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#they might actually be partially clothed in this one
wingedcat13 · 3 hours
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Siren Call: 3
[We’ve had past and present Minerva, but what about future?]
One day, Minerva will be familiar with the island’s crags and shelves. She’ll know the way the shore slope becomes a drop off and where the sandbars are, the color and density of all the coral, the migratory patterns of the species who pass by.
Today, she knows enough to avoid triggering the sensors. Even pauses to adjust one that’s started sagging out of place.
Minerva chooses not to walk up the beach, not wanting to track sand into the - house? Facility? Building? - not wanting to get sand caked to her feet and legs. Jumping straight up to the roof in a waterspout is also unnecessarily dramatic when there isn’t a fight to get to. So she just gathers herself, waits for a wave, and urges it a little higher, placing herself at its apex.
It gets her high enough that she can reach the railing of the overlooking balcony, with enough momentum to curl and tuck her body, cartwheeling over the rail partially just for the joy of motion. Even the smooth tiles feel rough compared to the water, strangely unyielding, and she wobbles just a little as she catches her bearings. Belatedly, she realizes she almost kicked the crap out of one of the balcony’s chairs. The little swerve she does is automatic. At least there wasn’t an audience-
“Minerva.” Says Synovus, sitting on the table because they’re deranged. There’s a surprised tilt to the end of her name, like half a question answering itself. They’re wearing civilian clothes again, and some part of Minerva’s mind can’t help noting that their arms are bare. “Welcome - back.”
One day, Minerva won’t scowl at them on reflex.
Today, she demands immediately, “Were you waiting for me?”
“Y-es?” Synovus hedges, not moving. “But also no? I was - I thought you’d be coming up from the shore.”
They sound almost abashed. But that’s too close to ‘embarrassed’ and Minerva is well aware that Synovus has no shame. She may have genuinely surprised them - they’re perched on the edge of the table, and had leaned away slightly. Synovus wanting to be a problem would have chosen a much more… blatant posture. Or at least to sit further back in the shadows. The absence of either a gaudy attention grabber or deliberate stealth indicated this middle ground was not an act. Or perhaps that’s what she’s meant to think.
One day, Minerva will not have to consciously pick aside the paranoia to see what is in front of her.
Today, it takes effort - but she does it.
With a sigh, she closes her eyes, and focuses on each part of her body, bringing herself down from the mild surge of adrenaline. One hand draws back the wet strands of her hair. The other removes the mask that was a gift. She leaves her eyes closed while she rubs the red marks out of her skin.
With her eyes closed, it’s easier to skip past the defensive retort, and say instead, “You could’ve at least had a coffee waiting for me.”
“I don’t actually know your preferences in that regard.” Synovus admits, and for a heartbeat Minerva is worried this will turn into a far too blunt conversation about homecomings, but - “Do you take it black? Iced? Green?”
Minerva scoffs, but it might have just been a laugh. Even she’s not sure. “White chocolate mocha.” She answers. “One shot espresso, oat milk.”
“Ah,” Synovus says, as Minerva opens her eyes. They seem to have had a revelation. “So that’s why Alexandria likes those Unicorn frappes so much. Hm. And here I usually go for the cider.”
A smile tugs at one corner of her mouth at the thought - Synovus, dread assassin, going to a coffee shop and ordering hot apple juice with whipped cream.
Minerva sets her mask on the table. “Stand up a minute.” She tells Synovus quietly, her voice nearly lost in the sound of the waves below.
“I don’t take direction well.” Synovus replies, even as they slide off the table and to their feet, turning to face her. There’s a caution to their movements, but also curiosity, written far more liberally across the unobscured face Minerva once never thought to see.
If Minerva meets their eyes too long, she’ll lose her nerve, so she winds up staring somewhere around Synovus’s collarbone instead. There’s a scar there, hidden for now by a high-necked top, and Minerva knows that because she put it there. It had been a targeted move: Synovus had broken her collarbone the fight before.
She wants to be better at giving back things other than pain.
“Just - give me a moment. Don’t move, please.” She’s pretty sure it’s the ‘please’ that gets them. Synovus goes so statue-still that Minerva’s not sure they’re blinking. But they don’t protest. And they certainly don’t move as Minerva steps forward.
And in one of the most awkward movements of her life, slides her arms around Synovus’s ribcage, setting her chin gently on their shoulder.
This is instantly easier when she no longer has to look at Synovus’s face. Well. When she can’t look. Can’t fixate on finding and parsing the smallest of expressions, assigning meaning to the specific tilt of a chin or speed of a blink. She’s still bad at it - hugging - because she usually just lets other people hug her, and initiating it is weird, but she can’t imagine Synovus is particularly good at it either.
After all, they’re still standing stock-still, and if Minerva wasn’t currently very aware of their breathing, she might even think they were panicking.
“Not a trap.” She mutters, and feels as much as hears Synovus’s responding huff. But their arms slowly, cautiously, hesitantly come up to return the embrace, hands resting lightly on her back. The side of Synovus’s head tips gently into hers.
One day, Minerva might not feel awkward about body contact and physical affection. One day, she may find herself as familiar with Synovus’s scars as she is her own. And she just might reach a point, eventually, where one of them could make a joke about this just being an excuse to get Synovus wet and not immediately both perish from the agony of an accidental allusion to arousal.
For today, this awkward embrace is enough.
———————————————————
Minerva probably won’t ever see a crowd as something other than a threat to be monitored.
Large groups have always made her tense, and that instinct had only gotten worse over the years. Most villains respect the ad hoc agreement about making an entrance, but there are a distinct few who would kill from a crowd. And there are those who are not villains in the distinct, identity sense, but would wreak havoc nonetheless.
So she scans the mall’s sheltered internal colonnade from behind her sunglasses, and listens to her daughter tell her about her day.
“- I just told him that I’d come from further South, and he didn’t ask me any more questions after that, but then freaking Brad asked me if I was an ‘illegal’ and I know what you mean now, about temptation to cram people into lockers. He’s lucky he’s so tall; I couldn’t fold him up to fit without taking some limbs off.”
Alexandria huffs, taking an aggressive pull from her milkshake. The stress of her life is getting to her - no teenager should have worry lines, or bags under their eyes that deep - but she insists this is what she wants. Even if Minerva sometimes wonders whether Alexandria sees herself as a member of the school’s attendees, or just a spectator who sometimes catches a stray ball.
“Did you tell Brad that?” Minerva asks mildly, mostly curious.
Alexandria sighs again, “No.” She says sullenly, shoulders slumping. “I asked him if he thought the government should determine who gets to live where, and then when he started to argue with me I told him I hoped his yacht sank with him on it.”
“Alexandria.” Minerva was still learning to find the right tone. The right amount of reproach, without exasperation or accusation. She must’ve gotten close, because Alexandria just lifts one hand in a ‘not me’ gesture.
“Specifically so he’d wash up in Mexico or Hawaii and get to be illegal himself.” She clarifies. “I don’t think that convinced anyone I wasn’t an immigrant, though. Til Seanna pointed out my grades in Spanish would probably be better.”
Minerva’s sigh is more restrained, but she points out, “There are other languages in South America. Brazilian Portuguese, for example.”
She’s not sure why she’s entertaining this, really.
“That’s true.” Alexandria ponders that for a moment, drinking more of her milkshake. “I mostly just meant to imply I was from one of the towns that got fu- uhhhh, screwed up by the power grabs.”
Minerva briefly leaves the conversation, remembering that shell of a place. The layouts, the dressings of a town, not quite abandoned yet but with nothing else to bleed.
Judging by the nudge she receives under the table, Alexandria isn’t totally oblivious to her distraction. She’s also changed the subject.
“So.” Alexandria is saying, drawing one syllable into three, “How are you and my godparent getting along?”
‘Godparent’ has become Alexandria’s favored way of referring to Synovus in public. It’s a joke on multiple levels, some of which Synovus seems to appreciate. But Minerva thinks it also makes them slightly uncomfortable, in a way they refuse to express to Alexandria.
“It’s fine.” Minerva replies, on rote. Her eyes flick to Alexandria, then back to the crowds. “What is it?”
“What do you mean, ‘what is it,’?”
“You wouldn’t have asked if you didn’t want something in particular.”
Alexandria’s mouth twists down, “Can I just get an answer without fishing for it, for once?”
Startled, Minerva looks at her again. Takes a better assessment of her daughter’s body language, the tension there. She knows she’s also gone tense.
Anger creeps into Alexandria’s voice, replacing the annoyance. “I’m not going to lose control. I’m not-“
She cuts herself off, abruptly looking away. Her fingers relax around the plastic cup, deliberately demonstrating that her strength won’t get away from her.
Minerva has a suspicion of how that sentence might have ended. I’m not like you and dad.
Reaching out physically feels like the wrong move here. So does stiffening up further and refusing to talk about it. Be better, she thinks to herself desperately, her mind flicking back to an image of a person with one foot in the water, one on dry land.
“We still… disagree, on some things. Some major things.” Minerva makes herself say. She still doesn’t like that Synovus kills people. She doesn’t like that Synovus has ostensibly killed for her, or for Alexandria. But she also feels relief that Synovus did, and a sense of gratitude she can’t quite smother. It makes her feel dirty, oily, and she hasn’t found it’s root.
Taking a breath, Minerva continues, “But… I don’t think they mean either of us harm.”
Alexandria has relaxed a little, absorbed by what Minerva’s saying. And probably having to pick through it for what she isn’t saying either.
“Would you say that you, I don’t know, maybe, trust them?” Alexandria prompts.
Minerva’s grimace is answer enough.
Alexandria sighs, “Mom.”
“It’s complicated, Alexandria.” She says, but it’s not the abrupt conversation-closer it would have once been. More… beseeching.
“Do you trust anyone?” Alexandria asks, “And like, I don’t even really mean me, here, but like. Anyone?”
Minerva remains silent.
“Do you trust yourself?” Alexandria asks, sounding a little alarmed.
Minerva hesitates - but she can’t really answer that one either.
They sit in silence for a few minutes, just the background roar of the mall’s crowds between them. Minerva hates this. She hates feeling like she can’t actually control herself, can’t master the emotional impulses she’s forcibly crammed into a box for years. She hates that Alexandria is having to pick up the conversation, make the overtures, do the work.
But any time she tries to think of a way to do it herself, her mind shies away from it. The words wilt and die in her throat. Because what if she gets it wrong?
What if she has more to lose?
Eventually, Alexandria looks at the melted remnants of her milkshake, and asks, “Can we stop at the Hot Topic before we leave.”
One day.
———————————
A week later, Rosie pokes her head into the common room Minerva’s reading in. “Minerva?”
She’d finally been asked point blank by one of them what she wanted to be called, because Athena no longer seemed accurate. Committing to Naiad hadn’t felt right either, so she’d given up her civilian name. Synovus already knew it, what was the point?
(It had occurred to her, later, that the small thrill she felt at being addressed by it was possibly what Alexandria felt at being addressed by her chosen name.)
(Also, it would’ve made Albion furious.)
“What is it?” Minerva asks now, letting one finger hold her place in the book as she sits up.
“There’s a fight drifting our way - Zephyr and a few others against the Eye. He’s made another floating platform again.” Rosie rolled her eyes, providing her professional opinion.
Minerva tilted her head, hesitating. Zephyr was a hero she’d worked with before, though they had never gotten along. He’d offered to take her flying, she’d taken that as flirting and shut it down, they’d never really overcome the resulting awkwardness. She had no idea who he’d be working with.
Eye, in contrast, was Eye in the Sky - a villain obsessed mostly with surveillance, and not being observed himself. He was a center point of several conspiracy theories involving the NRA, CIA, and a number of international organizations. She’d never fought him before, just heard the stories.
“What’s the protocol?” Minerva asks, rather than offer any of that information. She was certain this group of people knew far more about everyone involved anyway.
Rosie smiles, “Not much of one, just a lower alert status. Doll and I will make the rounds and check on everyone, Synovus is going to suit up just in case, but we won’t get involved unless territory agreements are breached.” She added, “Alexandria’s still on the mainland, we’ve made sure she knows to be suited if she makes her own way home.”
Minerva taps at the cover of her book, thinking. She feels adrift, still. This isn’t an actual fight, unless she wants to go and be Athena, and the idea of that is physically uncomfortable. It would also invite too many questions. Naiad would-
Hm. “Does Synovus want me in uniform?” She asks, sardonic.
“I didn’t ask and don’t plan to.” Rosie replies flippantly. “If they want you to do something, I imagine you’ll hear about it directly.”
Somehow, that isn’t the response she wants. “I don’t-“
“They also haven’t given any orders that you’re to be stopped.” Rosie points out, cutting her off. “The rest of us will be either in the operations room or up on the roof to watch. Klaxon if there’s trouble.”
She gave Minerva another smile, twiddled her fingers, and withdrew. Minerva shifted, and opened her book again.
She made it through two more paragraphs, then left it unceremoniously on the floor.
———————————-
On the roof, Synovus was pacing.
In a way, that’s reassuring, because even Minerva knew by now that if there was imminent danger, Synovus would be stock-still. The sun glints off the dark helmet, and threw the matte black of the rest of the suit into stark relief against the sandy-colored rooftop. Wind off the sea ripples through the cape, keeping it blown back, perpendicular to the path Synovus is walking.
The sun is kinder to Minerva’s costume, and there is no cape to blow. The dark mask helps keep her from being blinded by the sun. Athena wouldn’t be of much use here; Naiad might be.
Doll - the larger, Russian man who Minerva thought of as Synovus’s second in command - stood up here too, a viewfinder raised to cover his face. He’s looking into the direction of the wind, angled out and up, and Minerva follows that direction.
There it is - flashes of distant, shimmering silver in a cloud bank that’s thinning. Some masking device, most likely, now disabled. There’s tiny flashes of what must be powers or weaponry at use, but she can’t make out more than that.
“How bad is it?” She asks anyway, brisk and businesslike.
“The wind isn’t in our favor.” Doll comments. He’s always answered her as if she’s a coworker, and she appreciates that. “I can’t tell how much of it is powered and how much of it drifts. If there’s been damage to it -“ He lowers the viewfinder to make a hand gesture. “It might not be able to control its direction anymore.”
“Sloppy.” The comment is out of Minerva’s mouth before she can stop it. It draws Doll’s attention, if not Synovus’s. At the slightly raised eyebrow, she sighs and continues, “Disabling propulsion or navigation creates unnecessary risk to everyone involved. The only time it becomes necessary is when there’s weaponry that absolutely must be disabled, and you don’t have either the training or the time to sort out different power systems.”
Doll nods, offering her the viewfinder. “It could be self-inflicted,” he points out.
“Possible, but suicidal. That would require an exit strategy. Do you think Eye has one?”
“He’ll have three, only two of them will work, and none of them will be enough to keep him from getting captured.” Synovus breaks into the conversation abruptly, annoyed. Or perhaps professionally offended. “They’ll be personal craft.”
Meaning the rest of the platform’s crew would be left to die. Incentive for the heroes to try and rescue them rather than pursue, but what a waste.
The viewfinder lets Minerva get a better sense of the platform’s size, and also an estimate of its height and distance. She can make out a glimpse of a gray-shaded costume, diving through the clouds: Zephyr.
“If you interfere,” She asks, while her view is disconnected from her surroundings, “What would that look like?”
There’s a hesitation. A gust of wind snaps at Synovus’s cape. The distant battle continues.
“If they cross the boundaries, there must be consequences.” Synovus says reluctantly. “I will destroy the platform. Survivors will become my prisoners. If the heroes protest, I’ll fight them.”
Minerva lowers the viewfinder, and returns it to Doll. Synovus has stopped pacing. “You don’t have the facilities for a mass casualty event.”
“No.” Synovus agrees. “I don’t.”
————————————
Rosie has come out to join them on the roof by the time there’s significant change. The wind has died down some - likely a marker of Zephyr changing it, finally reaching their shores. The air feels thick and dead without it.
They’ve mostly stood in silence, watching. It feels longer than it has been, and Minerva knows it’ll be worse for those actually fighting. She’s surprised she hasn’t felt more of an urge to intervene.
Though she has been keeping watch for anyone falling to the water below.
It’s hard to say which of them notices first - their attention is collectively on the sky platform, and not each other. But there’s a decided tilt to the mostly-exposed metal monstrosity now, and in very short order, it begins to fall.
“Catch it.” Minerva finds herself murmuring. “Catch it. At least slow it-“
But no one does.
The platform hits the water at the full speed gained from a several thousand foot drop, slamming into the ocean. Those watching know that the metal will crumple on impact, water at that height and velocity worse than slamming into concrete. The surface area only makes it worse; tilted in at a slight angle, it displaces the water in a specific direction.
Towards the island.
Minerva had studied the ocean as much as she could. She knows this phenomena, and can cite times in the past it’s occurred. Not caused by the shifting of the ocean floor or tectonic plates, but by a sudden mass displacement.
They call it a super-tsunami.
Synovus is a statue beside her from the moment the platform starts to fall. Doll catches on once the surface of the water rises - and then doesn’t fall again.
“Three minutes.” Minerva calculates, based on distance and the probable speed of the wave. As many miles to cross. Much taller. “Evacuation?”
“The Jet is under repair, we can’t get it into the air in time.” Rosie answers, grim.
“Seals on the inner portions of the facility might hold, but we don’t know how long we’d be underwater.” Doll says, hitting the klaxon anyway. “The fridges?”
“Only as good as long as the power lasts.” Rosie replies. “Alexandria?”
“Still on the mainland.” Doll growls, running a hand through his hair. “Even if she could reach us in time, we’d have to get everyone onto the plane-“
Synovus has, so far, said nothing. Minerva is the only one close enough to catch when they choke out a strangled, “-fucking submarine -“
Minerva had expected Synovus to have a plan. A power, a strength, a defense mechanism. The realization that they don’t is like a fire’s been lit at the base of her spine.
She doesn’t remember grabbing Synovus’s collar, or dragging them to face her. She does remember saying, “I can stop it.”
Synovus doesn’t hesitate. “What do you need?”
There is no questioning of if she’s sure, or recommendation that she go into the waves to ride it out. No suggestion of running.
“Get me in front of it.”
Immediately, Synovus has one arm under her knees, the other around her shoulders, and they’re running. Off the edge of the roof, not quite flying, flickers of shadow beneath their feet. Minerva doesn’t have time to question it, because her attention is on the big damn wave.
When she had said she could stop it, she had spoken with a bone-deep certainty. But she’d never actually tried to divert a tsunami before, let alone one of this size. The largest amount of water she’s worked with has always been as much as she needs to accomplish her goal, and nothing more. Diverting some rain-induced flooding is nothing compared to the power of the tides.
But she can feel the ocean beneath them, as Synovus clears the island’s coast. She can sense the oncoming wave, so fast to them, but to the ocean like a flinch in slow motion. The ocean doesn’t know how to control a fall.
But Minerva does.
The trick is in grasping the majority of the wave without over extending. She doesn’t need every droplet, every molecule, but she does need the vast majority of them.
It’s like trying to get a grip on something flat with only the pads of her fingers. It’s like misjudging a stair and finding herself both plummeting and ramming into an outside force. It’s like taking the first breath of rain-rich air in the early morning, and feeling life enter her lungs again.
Minerva twists the top back over itself, breaking the wave in the wrong direction. She cuts it down the middle, diverting it off to the sides. She forbids it to go forward, as though it’s met a cliff. And as the water falls, the wave collapsing, so does she.
It takes a brief second to put together that the body that had been holding her aloft is now limp, twisted slightly as though to put itself between her and the wave. Synovus is unresponsive, the shadows gone, only the cape whipping around them as they fall. Minerva is able to catch them, now, grabbing on before they can drift away.
She reaches for the water below them, calling it up to catch them with less than bone-breaking force. It’s easier, somehow, but also harder, and she’s having trouble fixing a direction in her mind for where the wave was and where the shore should be. Hot air, harsh wind, cool water and the dimming depths as they’re both drawn down.
And she remembers, finally, that Synovus can’t swim.
—————
The disorientation has mostly worn off by the time Synovus wakes up.
Minerva had managed to follow the upset currents, but hadn’t wanted to risk trying to shape and change them. Or to fight them overmuch, with her cargo. So they’d wound up washed not to shore, but to a small opening into one of the partial lava tubes at the island’s base.
Outside, saltwater rain is still falling, though it will stop soon. The ocean’s roar sounds, to her ears, slightly confused. The sun is still shining, and the wind has picked up again. ‘Calm’ is a subjective definition, but they’re approaching it.
Minerva had been relieved to find that Synovus’s helmet was intact, even with the impact to the water. She’d managed to find its clasps, and to remove it, making sure the seals had also held and that Synovus wasn’t drowning in their own personal fishbowl. They’re propped up against her legs, which are folded beneath her, and she’s prepared for a violent awakening.
But Synovus’s eyes blink open, and Minerva is able to watch their facial muscles work as they come to terms with their surroundings.
“You fainted.” Minerva informs them.
Synovus squints at her, but doesn’t immediately protest. They also don’t try to move much, other than a slight squirm that Minerva recognizes as a full body check. Do I still have my appendages? Do my fingers and toes all work?
“Yeah.” Synovus concedes. Their voice is raspy with saltwater, even though they didn’t get much of a chance to drown. This time.
Minerva should probably start somewhere else - like making certain they’re okay, or assuring them about the conditions outside, that the wave had been averted. Instead, she all but demands, “If you’re so terrified of water, why in the hells did you build on an island?”
She can see the balk in Synovus’s expression: a furrowing of their brow, a twitch of the nose. Synovus lifts a hand to consider covering their face, eyes the sand on their glove, and lowers it again.
“I already know you can’t swim.” Minerva says flatly.
“I can swim.” Synovus shoots back, annoyed. “I cannot swim well, there’s a difference.”
They sigh, and move to sit up. Minerva doesn’t stop them. She doesn’t expect an answer, at least not without further prompting, but Synovus continues:
“It’s… easier. The isolation. Clearly defined borders. This is mine, everyone else fuck off. And it…” Synovus shakes their head. “It serves its purpose.”
Once, Minerva would’ve accused them of grandstanding. Of the island being a show of wealth and status. She knows better now - knows that while that is true, there’s other reasons, layered beneath.
And she thinks about everything Synovus has ever told her about self control.
“It contains you.”
Synovus hesitates, partially grimacing, but nods. “Serves its purpose.” They repeat quietly.
The two of them sit in silence, in the dark shadow of the cave. They listen to the water, and the waves as they return to normal.
“Thank you.” Synovus says, into the silence.
“I don’t require thanks.”
“But I feel you deserve it, and it’s mine to give.”
“And if I don’t want it?”
“Refuse it. I will survive the disappointment.”
Minerva has the uncomfortable feeling that they are not discussing only gratitude. Rather than address that, or continue the discussion, she says instead: “I don’t know what I believe anymore.”
Synovus doesn’t reply. They tilt their head, studying her in the dark. Minerva’s dragged them into a cave and confronted them with truths after they passed out from fear doing something on her word, she should give them a break. She doesn’t.
“I should be out there looking for survivors, or recovering the dead. I don’t want to. I should’ve involved myself in the fight, reminded them to be careful of the platform’s vulnerabilities. I didn’t. I don’t feel guilt. I feel… annoyed. Angry. Because they should’ve known better.”
Synovus just turns a bit, to rest their back against a rock. “And that in turn makes you feel..?”
“Foolish. Arrogant. A bad hero, and a worse teacher. I should be patient. Forgiving.”
“They nearly killed you.” Synovus points out dryly. “You’re allowed to be angry about that.”
“And more would’ve died if the wave had reached the coast.” Minerva grits her teeth. “But that anger should be - I can’t control them. I cannot fix them. But I didn’t even try to intervene until it was almost too late.”
“But you did intervene.”
Minerva gestures, attempts to pinpoint the logic fruitless and frustrated. “Am I a hero or not?” She demands. “Do I act for others or only my own skin? I’ve spent years - decades - so sure of the answer but now -“
She raises her hands, half-fisting them in her hair. The sensation provides a little bit of grounding, enough of a distraction she doesn’t think about the words before she says them. “- now you make sense to me, and the things I thought I believed in enough to die for are - are hollow or gone or dead. And I let you kill them. I let you kill him.”
Abruptly, she draws her knees up, burying her face in them. “I let - I made - my child - our child -“
Minerva can’t tell if she’s crying or not. Her breath is coming in gasps, and her face feels hot, and this was always the part of weeping that she hated the most; the lack of control, the inability to communicate. Her eyes burn. So does the center of her chest, her stomach.
And Synovus is here, as her witness. Why not? They’ve seen every other ugly part of her, every other failure. She’s spent a good portion of her adult life fighting this person, exchanging scars, only for them to pick up the pieces and try to protect her. She’s finally had the upper hand, proven that she does have power, that Synovus now owes her in the brutal calculus of lives, and instead of reassuring her it’s broken her.
Because Synovus doesn’t trust themself either.
But Synovus trusts her.
“Do you wish I wouldn’t have killed Albion?” Synovus asks quietly.
The answer is as simple and certain as the water. “No.” She says honestly. “No I - I don’t.”
There’s a pause. Then, “Do you wish I would’ve killed you too?”
That answer isn’t as clear to find. “I - some days.” She says hoarsely. “I committed the same crimes.”
Synovus exhales, across from her, and it isn’t quite a sigh. “Alexandria feels differently.”
Minerva stops breathing.
Of all the answers Synovus could’ve given, that’s the one she can’t counter. She can’t afford to do this. To wallow in self recrimination. Her daughter is out there. And while maybe - maybe her morals are falling to pieces, and she doesn’t know who she is, but she knows that whoever she is loves Alexandria.
“Is it pathetic?” She asks Synovus, in the dark she can’t see through and Synovus can. “To need someone else to determine who I am. What I believe.”
She can hear the twist in Synovus’s expression as they reply, “That’s… inherently not a question I can answer. But, Minerva?” Synovus doesn’t hesitate, so much as pick their way across uncertain footing, “I don’t think you would’ve been able to turn back that wave if you weren’t… as much as you are.”
It’s clumsily phrased. Wavering and uncertain. But Minerva, whether because she’s reading what she wants to from it, or because it’s actually Synovus’s intention, understands.
She takes a deep breath. Then another. Then she stands, and offers a hand in Synovus’s general direction. Her voice is much more certain, calm, when she says, “I need to go organize a search party.”
——————
Minerva may not ever come to terms with her role in her ex-husband’s death, or the harm she caused her daughter. She might not ever find the rock-solid beliefs that she once thought she had.
But she might - just might - come to terms with that uncertainty. The ocean doesn’t have roots either.
She’ll have good days and bad days. She’ll need to make decisions about who she wants to become, and how she feels about who she is. But as both Naiad, and Minerva, she has that freedom.
She’ll never touch the Athena costume again.
And one day, while she’s working on a laptop in one of the common rooms, Synovus on one of the other couches and Alexandria sprawled on the floor, Minerva will say, “I have an idea. Something I’d like to do about the Pacific garbage patch.”
And Alexandria will roll over to look at her, and Synovus will glance up. And Minerva will add, “It’s not precisely legal.”
And Synovus will say, “I’m listening.”
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[And so ends Siren Call! This took much longer than it’s other pieces, and there were things I debated including and things I wanted to cut, but in the end, this was the flow the story took. I’m not saying I’m *done* with Synovus and co, but I will say that I’m glad to have this chapter closed and tied off.]
[As per usual, a copy of this will go up on Ao3 soon, and I’ll find out how long it is, because I’ve once again written directly into tumblr drafts. It’s where the Synovus muse lives, apparently.]
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otaku553 · 21 days
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Straw hat women redesigns :) I was trying to doodle some of the crew and came to the realization that I just Could Not with Nami so I wanted to play around with it a little bit
Some more design notes below:
Nami’s design actually went a lot smoother for me than Robin’s! I think canon post timeskip Nami is a very low bar. While you can argue that to some extent Nami being vain and seductive is part of her character, I do feel that there are many more integral parts of her character that can be highlighted in her design, namely map making and her combat. Though not one of the stronger straw hats, Nami does seem to be well practiced with her staff outside of its use for weather manipulation, and I think her being a physical combatant, even slightly, can be better reflected with more loose clothing for better mobility.
For her mapmaking, I wanted her to have constant easy access to her tools and to information about the locale, so around her waist she has one large pouch at the back for books and scrolls and maps in progress and one small pouch to the side for writing utensils and measurement tools. As backup she also has 2 pens in her bun, which also act as pins for keeping her hair up if she ever needs to move a lot.
I’m not sure how clearly it shows up in the notes, but Nami’s shoe soles are also made from whatever artificial cloud material makes up the weather island she stayed on during the timeskip, so that it both pads her steps to make them soundless and bounces for better mobility. The shoes are naturally shaped like heels but without the actual heel, since she tends to move around on tiptoes anyways- a nod to her epithet as cat burglar and her past as a thief.
I made her shoulders a bit broader because I think they probably get a lot of exercise with her staff, and changed out the bikini top for a more supportive chest wrap, with a loose tank over it for breathability. The compression socks and sleeve are more stylistic than anything, since I like layers, but they might come in handy for her if she spends extended amounts of time sitting down making maps for the crew.
Robin’s was a bit more difficult for me to figure out, and I might go back and revisit it at some point. For Nami, it was a bit easier to imagine what would pair well with her combat methods and her needs as a mapmaker, but with Robin, she’s an academic who fights almost completely hands off, without a specific weapon to her name. Because her strength lies mostly in her devil fruit, she has a bit more room for style over functionality, but I also still wanted her to have something that made sense with what she was. I don’t really think I succeeded in that regard, but it’s also hard to convey what she does visually— she’s more of like a professor than a field archaeologist I think.
I really really enjoy her cowboy hat but I didn’t think it would match with the rest of the outfit so I switched it out for a wider brimmed hat and kept the orange sunglasses on it, as a nod to the revolutionaries with the combination of headwear and eyewear. She deserves a trench coat. I don’t make the rules. And the rest of the fit mostly came down to things I think I would enjoy wearing, haha
The trench coat is partially a nod to the scholars of ohara, who seem to wear white coats like lab coats in some screenshots of robin’s backstory. I think also the reading glasses help to make her seem a bit more academic, but aren’t prominent enough to leave a strong impression. All in all I do wish robin’s design had more functionality in it but I also think that robin is a character who probably enjoys dressing up nicely like this, especially in the comfort and stability of the straw hats.
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sytoran · 7 months
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𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟎𝟎𝟑 — 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇-𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆
kinktober day 003 | IW!wife!wanda x gn!reader
you've always loved writing stories since young, but the tale of you and your wife writes itself, and it ends with a sweet happy-ever-after.
cont. soft sex, established relationship, romance + fluff
word count. 1477
kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
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You’ve always had a thing for writing stories.
From the most devastating tragedies of a sapphic couple in medieval times, to the spiciest of female homoerotic tension during a zombie apocalypse, there were no words beyond the coaxing grasp of your vivid intelligence.
Encompassing was what it was, how the words flowed from the edge of your mindwires to the tips of your fingers, spilling onto page after page of literary beauty. You could get lost in it for days on end, spinning that marionette with a poetic dexterity, making her dance to your stories until her legs could take no more.
It was no secret that writing had been an extraordinary talent of yours, that would later take shape in the path of your future career. 
So there you were, sitting at your study desk on a lazy Saturday morning, nimble fingers flying over your keyboard in an intricate dance, each pausable breath, each rush of words that woved into the fabric of your story.
It’s quite picturesque, if you’re being frank; what with freshly brewed coffee in a steaming hot mug that read ‘Pride not Prejudice’ (Yes, there was an overload of rainbows decorating its surface,) and a breathtakingly idyllic view of the morning sky.
Of course, the skyline would never quite compare to the sight of your lady stepping out of the bedroom. The only causation to cease your words.
“Y/N?”
It’s a beautiful calling, tainted with a sleep-dragged croak of the throat. Brown doe eyes slowly blink to meet your gaze, soft feet making tentative contact with smooth marble.
“Hi, sweetheart,” you respond softly, eyes savouring the sight that is your wife in one of your cream Oxford shirts. Wanda's beauty is underlying and unsaid, beyond the boundaries of conventional and beyond your dictionaried words.
Certainly, Wanda has the traits of what define beauty: your shirt on her is partially unbuttoned to tease at a tantalizing cleavage, the hem of the clothing is high enough to show off the expanse of her porcelain legs.
But it's also the way the sunlight falls on Wanda's skin, like she's a descendant of the Gods that crafted the essence of light, like she was made to dance and roam in the beauty of the day.
It's the way the morning glow accidentally highlights her Grecian-sculpted cheekbones, and the way her light-brown freckles casually pop in that light. It's her collarbone scattered with your marks of violet hues, and that fading scar on her right thigh you never fail to kiss.
A sleepy sigh escapes from Wanda’s lips, and she runs a hand through her perfectly dishevelled hair. You don’t have to say anything, only nod your head in the slightest. The rest is second nature: Wanda slides herself into your lap, arms hooking around the back of your neck, head tucked into the crook of your neck.
Perhaps it was second nature, truthfully, because Wanda didn’t need control when she was around you. You were her control, her steadfast pillar, her rising sun. You were a constant in her ever-changing world, always by her side regardless of whatever insurmountable task might be in her way.
You let an imperceptible sigh of content slip through your lips, but you never stop typing for a second. Emotion was difficult for you to convey, paradoxically, considering the amount of feeling you could put into words. In actuality, it was hard for you to laugh carelessly or have an outburst of fury. Your emotion was quiet and unspoken, much like in the present moment.
Wanda, however, seemed to have other plans in mind.
It started off innocent, because you truthfully believed she was just being affectionate and physically in need of human warmth. And maybe it was, as your girlfriend eased into your lap, nuzzling adorably into your comforting scent.
But when Wanda’s hips begin moving unsubtly, breath growing more delicate on to the curve of your neck, you’re sure without a doubt that this is another one of those times Wanda sought a different kind of fulfillment, the kind that lay adjacent to her pretty thighs.
Your hands dance a little faster on the keyboard. Your eyes are still gazing over the top of Wanda’s head, firmly determined to complete this part of the novel you were working on. 
“Y/N…” Wanda says, reverently softly, pressing up into the warmth of your bodily heat. “Mhm?” you hum absent-mindedly, tucking your forearms in a little closer to entrap Wanda in your embrace.
You replace a comma with a fullstop just as Wanda shifts uncomfortably in your lap. Your wife’s legs fall open and slides her centre around the muscle of your right thigh. Something rises in your chest at the sensation of bare centre meeting your warm skin. 
She cranes her pale neck like a swan, pressing her warm mouth against your neck. You shift imperceptibly, switching a three-letter phrase into a subject-verb concord. When Wanda’s tongue pokes out between her ruby lips, when her sharp teeth scrape over the pulse point of your neck, when her curled hair brushes your exposed skin, an uncontrollable shudder runs through your body.
Backspace. Backspace. Backspace. Your spelling is becoming sloppy, almost like there’s a distraction.
Almost in retaliation, you jerk your knee up, the one that had been situated between Wanda’s thighs, and the mewl that leaves her mouth breaks her porcelain-doll composure. Satisfaction pools in your hips.
Words don’t need to be said between the two of you, as a slight shift in the atmosphere of the dining room sets itself. Wanda’s pants become shallower and quicker, the undulation of her hips speeding up, her legs clenching tighter around your thigh.
Your hands are flying over the keyboard now, your fingers twitching with bridled electricity, having need of some alleviation to express your ever-increasing libido. It’s a wonder how your eyes aren’t yet completely glazed over; yet, they’re moving in mechanical function to type, like you’re clinging on to a fragment of sanity. 
Because honestly, remaining sane while your wife let out the most pitiful whines into your ear certainly wasn’t an easy task. 
“Y/N,” Wanda cries, finally, emitting a sound as she clutches onto the soft fabric of your collared shirt. You can see, in your peripheral vision, the way Wanda’s face morphs into an expression of pleasure, the lines in nose-bridge forming a scrunch. 
Wanda is, without a doubt, the most breathtaking woman you’d ever laid your eyes upon. Reverent devotion bleeds from your mindwires and on to the page, staining it a crimson red as she nears her high. 
Your right thigh is moving in sync with each of Wanda’s humps, and she’s chasing that pleasure for all it’s worth: The clenching of your thigh muscles, the harsh jerks of your thigh as she struggles to ride it properly. 
Leaning down, your lips caress the shell of your wife’s ear, and from your mouth flows the words that are the final seal of acquiescence.
“Come for me, sweetheart.”
Just like that, something snaps inside Wanda, and the edge of your brainwaves fray like an old rope. In that moment, you know your words can take a rest. 
The movement of your fingers come to a halt. There was an unfinished story before you, the plot unfolding but not quite complete. But with Wanda by your side, she writes your story for you, carves the path towards a bittersweet ending. 
She takes the words from the deepest depths of your heart and lets it pour out her mouth, unashamedly, unapologetically, indescribable emotion overflowing from those blossomed lips into her trembling figure, her flushed cheeks.
“Y/N,” Wanda moans, and her sounds raise in pitch when you buck your hips up in a moment of your fractured composure. Her hips grind shamelessly onto the muscle of your thigh, chasing that stimulation.
It’s far from the most intense orgasms you’d brought Wanda to, because she can’t ever reach that level of ecstasy without your prodding fingers or your devil-tongued mouth. Perhaps that’s half of its beauty, though, that the two of you were incomplete without the other.
Wanda curls in your lap as she recovers from her high, enclosed within your forearms and the desk, face buried into your chest to engulf her senses in your scent. There’s sacred solace in the way you tilt your head down to press a fluttering kiss on her neck.
Your word document remains open but unfinished, the coffee in your mug grows cold. Sweet nothings and promised everythings are exchanged between the two of you until the sun has fully risen, hues of amber and gold painting the room.
The only story that mattered was the one before you, the one waiting to be explored.
You’ve had a thing for writing stories since young, and this particular one ends with a happy-ever-after.
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this fic is really special to me. i think it's probably some of the best writing i've put out there, so i'd be incredibly grateful if you could give it a reblog ♥
kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
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angelltheninth · 3 months
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No Penetration Sex with Daemon Targaryen
Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, cunnilingus, beneath the dress, grinding, secret relationship
A/N: I got this idea while writing my previous Daemon peace.
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It wasn't that Daemon didn't want to fuck you. Oh he did, he very much did. The bulge pressing against your ass told you so every time. But your relationship was a secret, a not very well kept one. No one knew yet but they suspected. He could protect you but he knew what people would say about you if they discovered you've been taken by him before you got married.
Which is why he always kept thigs in the outside, he rolled his clothed cock against you like a madman, he played with your pussy, spread your folds apart and rubbed your clit, cupped you and teased the entrance with the tips of his fingers but never let himself go inside. He never even rubbed his bare cock against you because he didn't think he had enough self control not to make you his.
"Daemon please, if you don't get inside me in some way I will lose my mind." You bucked your hips into his hand and backwards, feeling his swelling cock against your ass.
"You know I can't do... wait... I might actually be able to." He thought about it for a moment. "Yes, that should work. Turn around." You regretted the loss of his hand almost instantly but were also lured in by the promise of him being inside you. You turned to face him only for Daemon to get on his knees, "Lift your dress up, darling."
You weren't about to ask what he was playing at, you were far past the point of horny to think that much. As soon as you lifted your dress up he dove underneath it, his body partially obscured from your view. Somehow not seeing him, not knowing what he'll do made it more exciting for you, worthy of all the anticipation.
His fingers spread you again, down to your entrance but instead of his fingers you felt his thick tongue pushing in. He couldn't get far with this angle, you would probably need to straddle his face if you wanted that but he was trying his best with the position he had.
"I may grow addicted to your taste." He spoke against your wet cunt, lapping at your juices, almost like he was trying to plug you up with it. And you could feel yourself dripping down his chin, making it wet, the combination of your cum and his spit dripping onto the floor beneath your shaking legs.
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goodiegoddesselle · 2 months
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my favorite pair | L. DH
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pairing: enemy roommate!haechan x reader
genre: smut, sir/daddy dom, unprotected sex, degradation, pervert haechan lol, enemies to lovers, uses doll/toy as a nickname
summary: you see one day that your annoying roommate, haechan, hasn't done his laundry and just left his basket by the washing machine. sure, this is irritating, but it reminded you to do your own. when you finally start getting your own clothing, you notice that your favorite pair of underwear is missing. on top of noticing that, you notice that your roommate, who moves around the apartment a lot normally, hasn't left his room at all that day either.
wc: 3k
minors dni. dont like, dont read.
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You were tired of him. Tired of the dishes constantly sitting in the sink. Tired of his friends constantly being piled up on the couch, like you didn’t live there too. Tired of all the noise from his gaming—finally, it truly occurred to you just how tired you were of your roommate Lee Haechan.
For the most part, he didn’t do much but sit around and annoy you, whether or not he actually did his chores. It was almost like he messed with you on purpose. Despite all of this, however, you couldn’t help yourself from still having a partially hidden crush on him.
Yes, sadly, you did have a crush on him. You did, but there’s only so much you can do about having a crush on someone that doesn’t really get along with you the way you truly would’ve liked. It was almost impossible not to, nonetheless, seeing as Haechan was one of the most gorgeous men out there. His hair was long, golden and wavy, his eyes glowed a glistening honey color, and his voice was sultry with the perfect tenor tone. And with the amount of talents this man had, there really wasn’t anything you couldn’t like him for.
Did Haechan know about this crush, though? Never in a million years. You figured you would die before he even came close to knowing about it, let alone actually knowing. Especially since he was so irritating to you, even at that moment.
“Ugh, can you actually do your damn chores Haechan? I would like to take a break too, y’know!” you called out. You were in your room, digging through your clothes after seeing his laundry basket lying next to the washing machine. You figured you might as well do the laundry anyway, since he wasn’t getting around to it and your clothing was beginning to pile up inside your room.
A deep sigh left you as you dug through your underwear and recognized that something was wrong. It was gone—your favorite pair of panties was missing, and oddly enough, this was the first time that has ever happened to you. Your eyebrows scrunched in complete confusion. Where the hell could they have possibly gone?
You searched a little further, peeking under your pillows and through the rest of the drawers until Haechan’s lack of movement started making you curious. Sure, he was annoying, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t another human, and he typically moved around the apartment a lot more than he was that day.
Immediately you turned around, walked out of your room, and headed to the bedroom next to yours. It wouldn’t take much to get in his room anyway, seeing as he was either playing a game or sleeping with all the grunting he was letting out.
At least, you thought so.
You simply knocked on his door twice before letting yourself in, ready to talk about his laundry until your eyes landed on your roommate, who rushed to pull his blanket over his completely nude body. The squat you would have to do to pick up your jaw would probably give you the strongest legs on Earth.
“Woah!” he yelled, his eyes wide as he scrambled to hide his hands under the blanket as well. “I, um—I was just, uh, I-I…”
“There’s no need to explain, Haechan,” you interrupted, a smirk slowly spreading across your face, “I already saw them. Really? That’s what you’ve been doing?” The laugh that left you made his face turn the hottest shade of red.
It wasn’t hard to see Haechan holding your favorite panties in his hand. For once, you weren’t angry about it either. It was, however, a teeny bit shocking instead. You didn’t know that he was like this at all, seeing as every time one of your pairs would go missing, you would find it somewhere in your room the day after. The whole time you just figured it was you making them disappear. At least, until now.
You walked a little closer to him, closing the door behind you and giggling lowly. “Lee Haechan, when were you ever going to tell me that you are the world's most hidden pervert?” you asked. It was like he was frozen in place, internally freaking out as you leaned in and ran your thumb across his chin, his breath completely silent. “Well? What are you going to say about all this?”
“You know what, I was going to find an excuse, but since you want the truth so bad…” Haechan sat up, suddenly grabbing your wrist and pulling it away from his chin while pulling you closer. Your eyes widened as he held up your underwear again. His lips rose into a cocky grin as he waved them back and forth, watching the annoyance cover your face all over again. “It’s one thing to want you this badly, y’know, but you make it really easy to come and get these. And if you want them back, babe, this time you’re going to have to work for it.”
You scoffed. “Work for it? When it belongs to me? Guess you’re always like this, huh?”
“Like what, Y/N?”
“So goddamn infuriating!” you answered, rolling your eyes. Haechan laughed and leaned closer and closer to you, all the way to the point where your lips were almost touching, but not quite yet.
“Do you know you only get hotter and hotter the angrier you get?” Haechan replied. “If you didn’t want me to be so ‘goddamn infuriating’, then stop being so goddamn hot.”
He closed the distance between you two, tilting his head and pressing his lips to yours. It took no time at all for you to respond to it. You kissed him back fervently and climbed further onto his lap, sliding your hands onto his shoulders and taking his words and actions as an invitation to fight back. It was hard to reject him, after all, especially after feeling his teeth graze against your bottom lip several times.
The feeling of Haechan’s arms wrapping around your hips brought you into a high you didn’t even know you could reach, only getting higher and higher as he leaned down to your neck, slowly leaving kisses and sucking marks onto your warm skin. Crowds of moans left your lips, making him bite even harder. Out of nowhere, he flipped the two of you over and shoved you onto his mattress.
“I don’t care what anyone else thinks or how much I infuriate you, babe,” Haechan whispered into your ear, licking the shell of it, “you’re mine whether you like it or not.” He tossed the panties away from the bed and went back to leaving hot kisses on your lips and neck. But this time, you could feel his fingers sliding down your torso, all the way until he reached your pajama shorts and pushed under them. Another chuckle left him, and you could feel your face scorching from embarrassment, knowing damn well that he was laughing because you weren’t wearing anything under them. Your lips separated for a moment, but shut shortly after, shyness killing your effort to say something before he did. Haechan, however, already knew where you were headed with that.
“Oh? What, do you only wear your favorite ones?” Despite knowing it was a genuine question on his end, you really couldn’t find it in you to answer him. You even looked away, but that had no point, especially since he grabbed your jawline and immediately pulled your head back into facing him.
“Look at me when I speak to you, and don’t make me tell you again,” Haechan ordered. “You can use your words, doll. In fact, I’d like it better if you did.”
“Um, n-no, I don’t,” you stuttered back. Haechan’s gaze alone was intimidating you, which only made the situation ten times better than when it began. In fact, it got even better than that, right when his fingers started lazily rubbing at your cunt, slipping between your lips and toying with your clit. A loud groan filled the room the moment he began.
Haechan slid two of his fingers into you while keeping his eyes on yours. “For someone that loves talking about how annoying I am, you’re pretty wet right now. Soaked, even,” he teased, fingers massaging at your sweet spot gently. “It’s real cute.”
A frown crossed your face. You wanted so badly to say something back to that, but there wasn’t much to say back to the truth, really. However, as he picked up the speed of his fingers, the frown died within a few seconds, followed by his name being pulled out of you. Each second after, you could feel yourself getting closer to finishing, and you were completely ready for it—until he ripped his hand out of you. At first you were upset about it, but then you saw him licking your essense off of his fingers with an evil grin on his face, and that settled right away, being replaced with the need for him to put something much bigger back where his hand was.
Haechan pulled his fingers out of his mouth and chuckled, saying, “don’t think I can’t tell when you’re almost there; you made that face like you were ready to explode.”
Another pout crossed your face. “Then why didn’t you let me get there?” you asked. His face straightened out as he looked at you like you truly didn’t understand the situation you put yourself in at the moment. Again, he grabbed your chin and made you face him, his eyes flaring now instead of swirling with honey like usual.
“Did you really think I was just going to let you cum and we’d be done here? When you haven’t even thought about what you need to do for me too? Get up.” His hand slipped away as he climbed off of you, gesturing for you to rise up as well and take your shorts off. Despite being ordered to, another thought came to your mind and you figured things would definitely get different if you followed it. This time, a smirk crossed your face instead, and you crossed your arms.
“If you want me to get up, make me, then,” you baited, watching a look of surprise spread across his face before disappearing quickly. Before you could even see what he was planning to do, his hand shot across the bed like lightning and grasped your wrist again, startling you. Somehow you knew where this was headed for you.
“Last I checked, doll, I told you not to make me have to tell you again,” Haechan growled, ripping you off of the bed and in front of him, “but if you’re going to make me, you’re going to find out why I warned you to begin with. Shorts, off. Now.”
Completely filled with intimidation, you wasted no time in pulling your pajama shorts off this time, being completely nude from the waist down. Haechan’s gaze swept over you before he lifted your shirt up and leaned in, lips heading for your chest, right below your neck this time. He began leaving spots all over it, suckling onto your skin and heading lower and lower each time. You couldn’t help yourself from whining as he did it, grabbing at his shoulders again as your legs shook.
“H-Hae…” you mumbled, grip tightening around him. Haechan’s teeth grazed across your right breast before his head lifted. “Is there something my little toy wants?” he interrupted. With a tight throat, you simply nodded, hoping you could find it in you to answer him with words this time, but it didn’t take long for you to find out that those words wouldn’t matter either way. He lowered his head again and bit on your nipple, making you cry out into the room.
“Remember what I said earlier? Disrespectful playthings like you don’t get what they want either way,” Haechan said, sliding his hands under your thighs and lifting you up. “Learn how to act right next time and maybe I’ll reconsider.”
“Yes…” you moaned.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, sir…”
Haechan hummed in response and turned around, pinning you against the wall next to the door. “Now it’s my turn to play with my little toy,” he muttered. It didn’t take much time at all for you to feel it—the feeling of Haechan stretching you out with his size alone, making you wonder if you could even take someone as big as that. Your face froze with your mouth open, facing the ceiling in complete shock, your soul escaping your body more and more the deeper he got into you. Haechan himself let out a long, smooth moan as he pressed into you.
“God, I never knew you’d be this tight, Y/N,” he said, pulling out a little before thrusting himself back in roughly. “So, so good…” The two of you stayed still for a moment as he let you get used to his size. After a few moments, Haechan began again, pushing and pulling himself in and out of you at a slow pace at first.
“Sir,” you finally spoke, “can you speed up a little bit?”
“I will if you ask me nicely,” he responded, still moving slowly just to mess with you.
“Sir, please speed up,” you pleaded. Haechan leaned down and left a quick kiss on your neck before speeding up to a pace more hasty, more rough and harder to handle. Part of you regretted asking him to get faster, but most of you couldn’t even focus on that. You were enjoying the sensation of his cock hitting your sweet spot full force each time he slammed into you, your back pressing against the wall as he fucked you.
“Look at my pretty little doll, taking it like she should be,” Haechan teased, going harder and harder into you. At this point, you could barely handle what he was giving you, but every part of you wanted it. Needed it, even. You could even feel your orgasm coming toward you full speed, like a car on the highway at night. With how loud you were moaning, too, everything in you knew that he could tell as well.
“I’m so close,” you breathed, your arms tightening around his neck as your cunt tightened around him.
“Really? Is my doll already so close? How bad do you want it?” Haechan asked mockingly.
“So bad,” you replied, “really, really bad…”
“Yeah? Then beg for it.”
“Please, sir, please let me cum; I need this so badly…”
Haechan reached his hand down and began stroking at your clit. “Keep going, babe.”
“I’m so close, please let me cum, I’m begging! I-I’ve been doing good, please, I’ve been a good girl,” you continued pleading as a shock of what felt like lightning passed through you. If he didn’t decide now, you were going to release either way, and you didn’t want to disobey him all over again just to get another punishment.
“Hmm,” Haechan hummed decisively, almost jokingly. “You have been doing pretty well so far… I think you’ve earned it. You know what to do; cum for me, now.”
Immediately you released, his order cutting the tie for you. You were squeezing his cock as your juices leaked out, spreading all over him as he continued to thrust into you. It was amazing, but the overstimulation was starting to hit you not too long after.
“S-Sir, I can’t take this anymore,” you cried, legs weakening around his waist as he continued.
“Yes you can, doll,” Haechan responded, grunting lowly, “because good girls take what they’re given. And I’ve got something for you to take.”
Your nails were clawing into his skin at this point. Tears rolled down your cheeks as the intensity increased. You could feel another orgasm coming for you, and your whole body was ready to implode all over again. Haechan pressed his face into your neck again, taking a deep breath in before moaning at full volume, picking up speed as he pounded into you.
Not too long after, Haechan’s teeth sunk into your collarbone again as he moaned, “now take everything Daddy gives you.” Instantly, you were filled with more and more of his cum as he came, pushing you harder against the wall and leaning up instead to kiss you on your lips instead. The two of you made out even after he finished, even after both of you noticed that his release was starting to drip out of you, and even after you noticed you had also came while he was getting off. After a while, the two of you finally pulled away from each other, Haechan still carrying you but just not against the wall anymore.
Soon after, the high started fading away, replacing itself with a different level or nervousness. The reality that you just slept with your crush-slash-enemy hit you like a full-force train. At some point, you decided that since you already did all of this, you might as well just let him know anyway. “I just wanted to say, Haechan,” you began nervously, “that I do actually like you… I just didn’t really have a way to let you know, I guess…”
The nervousness began peaking when all Haechan did was watch you in silence while blinking. Then, out of nowhere, another gentle laugh escaped him. “You think I didn’t know that, Y/N? What did you think I bothered you so damn much for?”
“You what?” you gasped. “You fucking knew that already and didn’t ask me out or something like that instead?” He shrugged.
“Just wanted to play with my toy first. You should already know that you’re mine. I’m just glad everyone else gets to know now, too,” he said. 
You sighed. “You’re so freaking annoying.” Haechan leaned in right by your face again.
“Doesn’t matter; either way you’re mine. Aren’t you, doll?”
741 notes · View notes
vixstarria · 3 months
Text
A night at the inn (part 3)
Vampire bites as an aphrodisiac edition
Part 1 (fluff to smut) ~ Part 2 (just smut) (Is it required reading? Ehh... But you might as well, no?)
This one gets a bit deranged.
Astarion x F!Tav/F!Reader x Halsin
18+, smut, threesome, porn no plot, dirty talk, oral sex, PIV, blood drinking, soft dom Astarion, Astarion being a little shit, Halsin being rudely awakened in order to fuck nasty style again
Approx. 3,000 words this time (I uh... I don't know)
The first thought in your mind when you regained consciousness was “did that really happen?”, along with a flashback to the two elves in and around you. Halsin’s gentle, towering bulk. And Astarion finally allowing you to pleasure him, if only a little bit.  
You picked up the sound of Halsin snoring on the other bed. His favoured wildshape was all too fitting - he certainly sounded like a bear now. Weren’t elves supposed to trance? Silently? 
...So it happened. It really happened. ...It was going to be an interesting day.  
You opened your eyes. 
Astarion was already awake, lying beside you and admiring you through his lashes, a light smile on his face. It deepened when you met his gaze.  
Your immediate impulse was to ask him about last night, but you held your tongue, instead looking for answers in his eyes.  
No darkness, nothing that resembled shame or regret... Only warmth and affection as he softly ran the back of his fingers down your cheek until they reached your chin, to gently tilt it towards him, drawing you for a kiss.  
It was soft at first. Just your lips brushing and lingering on each other’s, until with a soft sigh he drew you in deeper. 
He traced the inner edge of your upper lip with his tongue. It tickled, and you parted your lips, letting him in. You tried to brush your tongue against his, but he retracted it as soon as you moved. Only once you held still did he return with his tongue, running it in circles around the tip of yours, running it up your tongue’s underside, teasing. It was so distinct, it was almost... 
You gasped with a sharp intake of breath when you realised what he was doing.  
These were the motions of your tongue on the head of his cock last night. This whole kiss was a vulgar, teasing reminder of what you’d done for him. His way of showing you that he hadn’t forgotten about it, that it’s been on his mind. 
Gods... It felt so obscene. 
You moaned as he brought your naked body closer to his partially clothed form, holding you close, a fire starting to reignite between your legs already.  
His lips split into a grin in the knowledge that you’d caught on, and he broke the kiss, giving you an unabashed look full of lust. 
“Will you let me do it again?” you whisper, hoarsely. 
“In time...” he replied. “For now there’s more I want to do to you.” 
“To me?” 
He grinned, mischievously, then glanced at Halsin’s sleeping mass.  
“For both of us to do to you, actually. If you want to try something new?” 
“Now?” 
“Why not?” 
“For one, Halsin's still asleep,” you said. Astarion rolled his eyes at you.  
“Psst, Halsin. ...Halsin. ...Halsin! ...HALSIN!” Astarion hurled a pillow at the groggy druid, who somehow managed to catch it in midair before it smashed into his face. 
“Hmm?” a low rumble reverberated in his chest as he stirred awake.  
“Do you want to try something?” 
“...What?” 
“It’s a yes or no question.” 
“...Yes.” 
Halsin, still half-asleep, opened his eyes to observe the two of you as Astarion turned back to you, rolling on top and continuing in a louder voice.  
“See? Problem solved. Anyway. I was thinking... You say your body stays sensitive around the puncture wounds for a long time after I bite you,” he said, running his fingers delicately along the wounds on your neck. 
“It’s still tender,” you nodded, relishing his touch. 
“Tender how?” he asked softly, lowering his lips to the marks on your neck.  
“It feels... sweet. Like I don’t want you to ever stop touching it,” you said, closing your eyes and revelling in the sensation. “I don’t know how else to describe it.” 
“A vampire’s bite has aphrodisiac properties,” offered Halsin. “It is well-known.” 
“What if I were to bite you somewhere more... interesting.” Astarion began to kiss further down, grazing you with his fangs without drawing blood. Halsin, more awake now, propped himself up on his elbow to lie on his side.  
“Where?” you breathed as Astarion continued on his way down, pausing to suck on a nipple. He only smiled and kept trailing soft kisses down your stomach, gradually pulling the covers off you as he went lower, until he reached your upper inner thighs.  
“What if...” he purred, starting to run his tongue along your outer folds, making you moan and spread your legs wider for him. “I left a gentle little bite right here...” He continued to run his tongue on your skin, just between your opening and your thigh. “Do you think you would like that..?” Before you could answer, he added: “Oh, and it’s incredibly distracting when you’re so wet while I’m trying to talk to you,” before plunging his tongue inside you as you gasped.  
“Did you wake me merely so I could watch?” Halsin asked, reaching down to stroke his growing erection. 
Astarion gestured for him to wait. 
“Do it,” you moaned. “Bite me there.” 
Astarion continued to lap at your hole, running his hands along your thighs, holding them open.  
“Stop teasing, damn you!” you hissed. 
Astarion chuckled and moved his head to lick you just outside your opening, sucking your lip into his mouth. Suddenly his grip on your thighs tightened and before you knew it, you felt a sharp icy pang. You whined as he continued to suck, this time drawing blood. The pain quickly dissipated and turned into a titillating sensation that spread throughout your sex.  
Astarion lifted his head, sitting up and inserting two fingers into you.  
“Now how does that feel, darling?” 
“Good... So good...” you groaned, spreading your legs wider for him, bucking your hips to ride his fingers. It felt like an insatiable, throbbing itch, his fingers your only salvation. 
“I must tell you,” you heard Halsin. “I overheard some of your remarks about wood elves earlier. And you would do well to trust me that few of my brethren are as depraved as you.” 
Astarion ignored the druid, absorbed in watching you writhe.  
“Do you like it? Do you want more? You do, don’t you... We can give you more...” You whimpered as Astarion continued to slowly fuck you with his fingers. “But first... What if I bite you somewhere else?”  
His tongue returned between your legs, licking higher and higher, until it circled your bundle of nerves.  
“Just a tiny little nick, right above your sweet nub. I’ll be very careful, I promise,” he murmured right against your clit, in between licks, as you mewled. “I’ll be gentle... And then I’ll kiss it better. I’ll kiss it, lick it, suck it better...” 
“I stand corrected... None of my people can rival you in perversion,” said Halsin. 
Meanwhile, your fingers were tangled in Astarion’s hair as he continued to tease you with his fingers and tongue. As good as it felt, the only word in your mind was ‘more’.  
“Do it,” you say, hoarsely. “I want to know how it feels.” 
Astarion chuckled, turning to Halsin. 
“You druids have an intrinsic urge to tend to helpless creatures in need, do you not?” Astarion said, as Halsin continued to stroke himself. “This helpless creature is about to be in great need.” He looked up at you, hungrily. “Try to hold still, my love.” 
This time the pang made you yelp and lurch up in shock, your hands grabbing at the bedsheets. But the pain subsided as quickly as it came on, replaced by an unquenchable burning need.  
It throbbed. It pulsed. It begged to be touched.  
Astarion did as he promised licking and sucking on your clit, his cool tongue like a salve, but before you could find any kind of release, he abruptly rose, pinning your arms above your head as you groaned in protest. 
“My, look at this predicament you’ve gotten yourself into again, pet...” 
“Please... please... anything... I’ll do anything you say.” you begged. Your need could not be ignored like this. You tried to squeeze your legs together for some friction, but he was keeping your legs spread open with his own thighs. Maybe if you told him what you wanted he would cut this agony short..? “Touch me... Fuck me... Anything..!” 
“What did I tell you?” he said, turning to Halsin. “But my sweet,” he said turning back to you. “You said you wanted to know what it felt like. Maybe we should leave you like this so you can study and savour the sensation.” 
“Astarion?” you managed, swallowing hard. 
“Yes, darling?” 
“Fuck you, Astarion,” you hissed through your teeth. You turned to the druid, looking him in the eyes and bucking your hips in desperation. “Halsin..?”  
“Give her to me,” the druid growled. 
“Oh no! There will be no mutiny! Make no mistake, I’m still the one calling the shots here,” Astarion laughed. “...But seeing as you’re all so eager – sure.” He released your hands and raised you into a sitting position. “On the edge of the bed,” he gestured to Halsin, the druid complying without another word. “And you...” he held you by your jaw, his voice lowering. “I’ll let that slip by, but if you want me to allow you any relief, you will behave.” 
You nodded, whimpering. 
“Now do you want to ride his cock?” 
“Yes,” you panted. Astarion just raised an eyebrow and didn’t make a move. “Yes, please, can I?” 
“She’s yours,” he said to Halsin, with a smirk. 
Suddenly you were lifted and found yourself on the druid’s lap on the opposite bed, your back against him, both of you facing Astarion.  
“You can fuck that needy hole of hers all you want, but don’t touch her between her legs,” he said, reclining to admire his handiwork. 
You were gliding your slit along Halsin’s shaft, covering his erection with your juices. It was something, but not nearly enough. 
Halsin lifted you and began to ease you onto his cock, once again slowly, inch by inch.  
“You don’t need to be so gentle,” you groaned.  
“No no, slow and gentle is exactly what she deserves right now,” Astarion interjected, as you swore under your breath. “And don’t you dare touch yourself,” he said to you. You knew better than to defy him, and clutched at Halsin instead. 
Halsin’s hands remained on the undersides of your thighs, your legs opened wide for Astarion’s devouring eyes, gripping you as he worked his cock inside you, raising and lowering your body along his length. It was agonisingly slow, and though it appeased the itch from Astarion’s lower bite, somewhat, it did nothing for your throbbing clit.  
“You said you’d kiss it better, you fucking liar,” you threw at Astarion, your voice thick.  
“What did I say about behaving?” said Astarion.  
“Astarion, it hurts without you,” you groaned. “Please? My love..? I’m begging you.” 
Astarion sighed dramatically, finally getting off the bed to kneel on the floor in front of you. 
“Well we don’t want you in pain,” he murmured.  
Finally, you felt Astarion’s mouth on your swollen sex, as he stroked your clit with his tongue. A moan tore from your throat as Halsin sped up the bucking of his hips, his thrusts in time with the strokes of Astarion’s tongue. This. This was what you had been craving so badly. The druid stretched and filled you completely, while Astarion’s tongue brought you to the edge of madness. And you could do absolutely nothing but accept and embrace what was happening to you. It wasn’t long before your whole body convulsed with the force of your orgasm, Halsin holding you tightly against him.  
Once you’d regained your senses, you noticed that somewhere along the way Astarion had completely discarded his pants, and was now stroking himself with one hand, as he rubbed a thumb over your oversensitive clit.  
“Hmm,” he hummed, studying it. “I don’t think it’s better yet.” 
You nearly screamed as he went right back to sucking on it, alternating that with quick flicks of his tongue. 
“Shh, sweet one...” Halsin breathed in your ear, placing a hand over your mouth, and lifting your hand into his hair with the other. “Yank on it hard if it’s too much. Can you do that?” You whimpered a ‘mmhmm’ as you grabbed a fistful. 
Halsin leaned back on the bed so you were half-lying on top of him, your head thrown over his shoulder, as Astarion held your thighs open. 
Astarion showed you no mercy as he lapped at you. Halsin sped up again, as you let out keening moans into his hand, losing your mind. There was no easing and relaxing into this - this orgasm was forced out of you, and you loved every second of it. Within a minute you came again, your thighs twitching violently.  
Halsin groaned as you spasmed around him again. 
“I cannot do this anymore... If she clenches around me like that again I will lose it.” 
The druid slipped out of you and you were once again gliding along the length of his shaft, rubbing yourself against it.  
Astarion lifted his mouth from you, wiping your wetness from his chin, as Halsin raised you back into a sitting position. 
“He’s been so very patient with you, pet. Do you want to show your appreciation?” 
“How?” you whispered, licking your lips. 
“I think you already know how,” he murmured. “Come here. On your knees.” 
You all but collapsed on the floor next to Astarion, your legs unsteady, looking up at Halsin.  
“Taste him,” Astarion encouraged you. “You haven’t yet.” 
“Oakfather preserve me,” Halsin groaned as you took his engorged, leaking cock into your hand. You were facing a dilemma. You didn’t think you could fit him into your mouth without dislocating your jaw. Instead you began by licking your juices off his length, savouring your own taste.  
“Good girl,” Astarion purred next to you, sliding two fingers into your still throbbing pussy, as he stroked himself with his other hand.  
You moaned and moved up to the head of Halsin’s cock with your mouth, licking up his precum, as the druid brushed your hair off your face and held it back for you. No, this wasn’t going to work. Instead you worked him with your hand as you moved down to lick and suck on his balls.  
“I’m close,” Halsin groaned, throwing his head back, his fingernails scraping against your scalp. 
“Suck on the head,” Astarion whispered beside you, continuing to dig his fingers into you, rougher now. “You can manage it.” 
You moaned as you worked the tip of his penis into your mouth, slurping and sucking around it, wetly. This much you could do.  
“Good...” Astarion whispered hoarsely, moving behind you. He was starting to shudder as he bit down on your shoulder, not hard enough to draw blood, continuing his efforts to tear another orgasm out of you. He couldn’t have been far himself. “Make him come.” 
Halsin’s cock twitched and pulsed in warning as you continued, the druid’s grip on your hair tightening.  
“Swallow,” Astarion commanded, just as the druid finally spilled in your mouth. You glimpsed a few more strokes of Astarion’s hand from the corner of your eye, and you felt Astarion’s spend land in spurts on your back.  
You sat back with a frustrated groan. His fingers inside you hadn’t been enough. 
“My poor little minx...” Astarion murmured, catching his breath, kissing your neck up to your ear from behind you. “I know what you need. You’ve earned it.” He moved his hand to finally rub your clit again, massaging it roughly and deliberately. “Can you come for me one more time?” he whispered in your ear. “And here, let me taste him too.” 
You came completely undone once Astarion’s tongue swirled hungrily against yours, as he continued to methodically work on your swollen clit, moaning and whimpering into his mouth through your climax.  
“I don’t think I can walk,” you said a short while later, relaxing in Astarion’s embrace after he'd cleaned the better part of your combined cum from your body. It was mid-morning by then. Miraculously, no one had come to bang on your door to try to get a move on, but then again anyone in the vicinity of the room would’ve immediately understood what was happening inside. 
“Shall I go tell everyone you’re unwell, darling?” Astarion asked with a grin. 
“Don’t you fucking dare speak to anyone about this or me, you’re staying right here,” you said as he laughed “...I don’t think they will be impressed that we’re all delayed because I’ve been fucked into incapacity,” you added.  
“Oh on the contrary, I think they will be VERY impressed,“ said Astarion. 
“I’ll go tell them you’re currently indisposed. ...A tad more tactfully. And I’ll see to it that a bath is prepared for you,” said Halsin, getting up and getting dressed. 
“Thank you, Halsin... You are a blessing,” you said, shutting your eyes and falling back against Astarion as he left kisses along the side of your face.  
Halsin hesitated at the door.  
“Before I leave this room, I must know... Once this door shuts behind me, is... this-” he gestured at the three of you, “staying behind as well? Or can the future hold something for us?” The druid would accept whichever answer you gave him, but you could tell he was a hair’s breadth from a pained expression.  
You and Astarion exchanged a look. You had gotten good at silent communication. It was Astarion who finally spoke.  
“It doesn’t have to stay behind. You’ve been better for us than you might realize,” he shook his head with a small smile. “But let’s talk about that later.”  
“I am glad,” Halsin said, smiling, before leaving. 
“You think catnip is difficult to live down?” You groaned again, once Halsin was gone, twisting and hiding your face in Astarion’s neck. 
“You should be proud,” he chuckled, hugging you tighter. “How do you feel..?” 
“Fine, right now... It still throbs a bit, but I can ignore it. But it's been coming on in waves, I don’t know if there’s another coming or how big it might be.” 
“Let me know if one does, I’ll take care of you,” he whispered, kissing you.  
“Astarion?” you murmured, breaking the kiss. 
“Hmm?” 
“Can we do this again? Just the two of us? Later.”  
You both knew what you meant by ‘later’. 
“Greedy...” he smiled. “But yes. Once all this is behind us and we can just lounge in bed all day and night.” 
“I can’t wait,” you whispered. 
~~~~~
AO3
Next in series
Series masterlist
~~~~~
Tags: @twirlywhirlywriting - Hi! You are the reason this happened. I wasn't really planning on a part 3, but it clicked in my brain. Hope it's close enough to what you had in mind. I couldn't really give Halsin a more dom role though, as I think Astarion would lose his shit at this point.
@littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy
967 notes · View notes
molsno · 5 months
Text
I find the notion that trans women's oppression is at least partially based on a systemic hatred of men and masculinity troubling for many reasons. the biggest reason, of course, is that misandry is not real no matter how you attempt to label or define it. but moreover, it's just flat out wrong.
it is true that many forms of transmisogyny consist of some form of misgendering. however, it's ludicrous to call it misandry just because the underlying implication is that the trans woman in question is really a man; if that were the case, then cis men and trans men would be subjected to the same oppression on the basis of their manhood. but no, the misgendering is always simply a cover for something else - something far more insidious.
if a trans woman is loud, outspoken, and argumentative, then she's accused of demonstrating her "male socialization". she's told she's guilty of "mansplaining". when a trans woman is jealous or clingy with her partner, she's accused of expressing "male entitlement" over them, and being "manipulative" and "controlling". when a trans woman is attracted to cis women and talks about her desire to have sex with them, she's accused of being "creepy" or "predatory". she's told she's being "misogynistic" by reducing women (cis women, or "real women" as is usually the implication in this scenario) to just their bodies and valuing them only for their worthiness as sex objects.
if you think about it, though, these arguments mirror regular old misogyny pretty closely! if a cis woman is loud, outspoken, and argumentative, then she's a "bitch", she's "bossy". she's told she needs to "know her place". when a cis woman is jealous or clingy with her partner, she's accused of being "crazy" and "obsessive". and indeed, when a cis woman is attracted to other cis women and talks about her desire to have sex with them, she's accused of being "creepy" or "predatory"!
so why, then, if these statements are really a form of misogyny, does the justification for them hinge on trans women's supposed "maleness"? the answer is simple: biological essentialism. this ideology, in no small part popularized in feminist and queer spaces by terfs, states that "biological males" are predestined by their very nature to prey on and dominate "biological females". and since trans women are "biologically male", it follows then that they are wolves in sheeps' clothing. any presumption of innocence or harmlessness is discarded, and trans women's actions are painted in a new light.
if you accuse a trans woman of being an infiltrator in women's spaces due to her supposed "maleness", then what you've effectively accomplished is the subjugation of an underclass of women. trans women are not considered deserving of respect, compassion, or dignity whatsoever. if you paint a trans woman as a threat to other women, then you can drum up as much outrage and violence against her as you want, and she will have no recourse. and the simple fact of the matter is that the easiest way to do this is to draw attention to her alleged proximity to "maleness".
perhaps you might be thinking that proximity to maleness being used as a justification for oppression implies that misandry actually is real. after all, aren't women of color, butch lesbians, and even black men also subjected to violence due to their perceived proximity to "maleness"?
I understand how one could make that mistake, but that notion fails to engage with the actual material reasoning behind the forms of oppression these groups face: they pose a threat to the cishet white man's absolute dominion. the root of these disparate but related forms of oppression, biological essentialism, is inherently a white supremacist, misogynistic, and conservative ideology. its purpose, much like its ilk, eugenics and phrenology, is to establish a hierarchy in society that places cishet white christian men at the top by asserting that they are inherently biologically superior to all others in every respect.
if you observe people's behavior, you can see that this ideology permeates almost every level of society. cishet white men are elevated to positions of authority without question; their motives are never scrutinized and criticized in the same way that trans women's are, or any of the other oppressed groups mentioned above. if one of these men is misogynistic, if he views women as mere sex objects to be controlled to suit his liking, he will not be punished for it; he is exercising the right that has been given to him by the society people like him have created through centuries of colonialism. even in queer spaces, men are regularly coddled, their misdeeds forgiven or excused for no real reason other than that many queer people have not questioned the assumptions they've internalized.
the notion that trans women are oppressed by misandry is laughable, really, because we are constantly made aware that, due to biological essentialism, TME people will always trust a man over us.
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iateyourparents · 5 months
Text
baby i think i'm gay | c.b.
pairing: colby brock x fem!reader (and sam golbach x katrina stuart)
summary: You, Katrina and boredom = disaster
warnings: fake cheating, faking change of sexuality(?), terrible writing and grammar(I'm sorry, english is not my first language), use of y/n
an: IMPORTANT!! If you aren’t comfortable with with idea of prank cheating or faking sexuality for a prank, don’t read it!
pictures are from pinterest:)
Tumblr media
Yesterday Sam and Colby were exploring some haunted place and today they were supposed to be coming home.
Which means you're alone with Katrina in your home and as much as you love her company, and she loves yours, you both can't help but feel bored.
It's raining so you can't do much outside and your lazy moods doesn't help this situation.
Currently you are both laying on the couch watching some reality show, when suddenly Katrina kicks you.
"We should do something for boys. Maybe dinner?" she offered.
"Ooh that's a good idea." you agreed and you both stood up and went to the kitchen.
"Spaghetti?" she asked and you eagerly nodded. You were craving spaghetti this morning so that's a good opportunity to make it, plus Katrina's cooking is just delicious.
"You know what Kat?" you started after a moment of thinking when the other girl was gathering products. "We should prank Sam and Colby. Revenge for leaving us in this awful weather."
Kat stopped what she was doing and looked you in the eyes with a mischievous smirk and you just knew that she had some genius(probably not) idea.
"What are you thinking about?" you asked with a smile.
"Do you remember my ex, Damien?" she asked and you nodded. Of course you wouldn't forget the biggest asshole you ever met. "I broke up with him saying I'm lesbian. Do you see where I'm going?"
"You want to prank boys into thinking we're lesbians and we are cheating on them with each other?" you furrowed your brows and smirked "that's fucked up but I'm in."
"Actually I just wanted to prank one of them that one of us is gay but that's even better!" she hugged you with excitement.
"We should still make this dinner as an apology." you laughed and she agreed so you started working on the food.
|||
When you got a message from Colby saying they would be home in ten, you excitedly told Katrina about it.
You both ran to your and Colby’s room where she asked “Should we get naked?”
You narrowed your eyebrows thinking about it. “That might be a little too much but we could take off tops and get under covers so they wouldn’t see we have pants on.”
“Good idea.” she agreed. You both took off your shirts and you laid them on the floor to make it seem like you threw it carelessly in heat of the moment. You also took some random pants from your closet and also laid it on the floor.
Then you both got onto your bed and covered your bottom parts with sheets so boys wouldn’t notice that you’re actually clothed.
“We should hug.” she stated and you just laid partially on her body placing your head on her shoulder so it looked like you were kissing her neck.
“Wait.” she thought about something “Doesn’t Colby can see you saw his message?”
“I didn’t open it, just read from notification.” you assured and she nodded with relief. After few moments you stated “They will hate us.”
“Oh definitely.” you both laughed “Do you think they will try to revange?”
“I don’t know but what can they do? Also pretend to be gay?” you snorted.
“Their fans would be delighted.” she laughed and then you both heard the front door opening so you immediately got silent and just exchanged looks smiling mischievously.
You heard boys coming up the stairs, probably looking for both of you to say hello, so you again placed your head in Kat’s neck trying not to laugh while she closed her eyes to make it seem like she was enjoying presence of your lips on her neck.
Few seconds later door to your room opened and you could hear Colby stopping walking but you both pretended to not hear it.
Moment later Sam started walking toward standing in shock Colby “Did they go out? I can’t find Kat…?
You and Kat looked at them with wide eyes pretending to be surprised and not knowing what to say. Both of boys just stood in the door frame with wide eyes and open mouths trying to comprehend what was going on.
“What the hell?!” Colby was the first one to shake off the shock “Y/n?!”
“Colby…” you faked a gasp and both, you and Kat, sat up holding covers to your chests.
“Sam, it’s not what it looks like.” you barely held back a laugh from escaping your lips at her words. Sam looked petrified with shock while Colby was almost shaking, you weren’t sure if because of anger or shock.
“Do you mind explaining yourself?” Colby asked in low tone and Sam nodded to him also wanting to know what’s going on.
“Baby, I think i’m gay.” you just said.
“We’re so sorry you had to get to know it like that.” Katrina sighed.
“What?” both boys said in the same time. Colby’s voice was choked and you felt your heart squeezing and suddenly you didn’t like this prank anymore. You knew they wouldn’t be happy but that was worse than you imagined. You knew this tone, Colby was trying to held back tears and you could already see Sam’s eyes watering.
You exchanged looks with Kat, both of yours eyes were full of guilt and concern. That was definitely a good moment to stop it.
“Okay boys, we’re really sorry. This was supposed to be a funny prank but I guess we didn’t think it through. That’s not as funny as we thought it would, actually it’s not funny at all.” you quickly explained and got out of the bed to let them see you weren’t naked and Kat followed your moves. You both took your shirts to wear them while boys were just silently observing your moves trying to understand your words.
“It…it’s just a prank?” Sam asked and you clearly saw a hope in his eyes and that made you feel even more guilty.
“Yes” Kat quickly nodded and you both approached them slowly.
“I could never cheat on you.” you said looking into Colbys eyes and carefully taking his hand giving him time to retreat it if he doesn’t feel like touching you. You felt relieved when he only squeezed it.
“We’re so sorry. We didn’t really thought about how bad you could feel.” Kat hugged Sam who closed his eyes with relief and reciprocated the hug.
Kat looked at you and took Sam’s hand to lead him to their room, closing doors after them.
“I’m so sorry. Are you very mad?” you asked Colby with concern leading him to sit on the bed.
“I…I just don’t know what to say.” he squeezed your hand again “I’m not mad…I mean, I am but I’m also happy it was just a prank. I really thought for a moment I would lose you.”
You felt your heart breaking at his words, his tone and his slightly watered eyes and you quickly hugged him repeatedly saying sorry.
You felt his hands hugging you back.
“What can I do to make you feel better?” you were ready to do anything just to make him feel better.
“Can we just hug in bed for some time?” you just nodded at that and you both laid back still hugging.
And if the next day you and Kat woke up with water all over yourselves, you couldn’t even be mad because that was nothing comparing to your prank
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junipernight · 2 months
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I redesigned Yangchen's outfit!
... I actually designed a lot of outfits for her, because I am Extremely Normal about these books, and also I like costume design and learning about historical clothing.
Short disclaimer: These fantasy clothes aren't culturally or historically accurate, just historically and culturally influenced. I don't have any expertise in East or Central Asian culture or clothing, I've just been clicking around on the internet a lot the last two weeks learning things because that's my idea of fun lol. If you wanted to talk to people who actually know things you should check out @atlaculture or like @ziseviolet, both of whom's blogs I referenced while drawing.
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I only designed two alternates for the outer robes. The first is based loosely off the robes Buddhist monks wear (loosely, because drawing draped fabric is hard ^^') especially the Tibetan zhen robe. This garment is just a long wide rectangle of cloth which can be draped across the body in lots of ways (versatility ftw!).
The other garment I drew is a Chuba, a traditional garment from Tibet and the Himalayas. It's a robe, but it highkey reminds me of kilts and hoodies, in that it a) can be worn over one or both shoulders or just as a skirt and b) it makes a giant pocket over the stomach. The long sleeves can be folded up or tied back btw.
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I spent the most time on the middle layer, because I was thinking it has to be something she could comfortably fight in while also being suitable for diplomatic meetings, meditating, espionage, and possibly sleeping.
And like. You can fight and hike and whatnot in loose skirts, but it's annoying how twisted up they can get while sleeping. ALSO, YC does a lot of flying and leaping, so my girl needs pants. My faves are definitely the Xiaolin monk pants and the yellow wrap pants Aang wears. I tried dhoti (Indian wrap pants) because that kind of looks like what the giant statue of Yangchen meditating might be wearing, but I think it looks odd paired with a highwaisted shirt instead of a long tunic. Maybe I'll do some more drawings with her in a tunic and dhoti or a monk's dhonka and shemdap later, idk.
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As any good historical fashion nerd knows, foundational garments are everything (◡‿◡✿).
But also, there's a scene where Yangchen and Kavik pretend to be lovers, and are "discovered" by a maid sleeping in the same room, with Yangchen in a state of partial undress (gasp!)
I am living for this fake drama; I need to know how scandalized the maid was lmao.
When the maid walks in, Yangchen immediately wraps herself in a bedsheet before ushering the maid back out the door. Maybe all she did was take off her outer robe... but why would she need to wrap herself in a sheet if she was wearing a long-sleeved high-necked gown? I got the sense from both the book and cursory research about buddhist monks that walking around without your outer robes was socially acceptable, at least in casual settings. I think it more likely she was in her underclothes, which historically (in the west anyway) would also double as sleeping clothes.
"The Aang" is censored because this is Tumblr-dot-com. Its mostly a joke, but also, I know other countries are less uptight about bººbies, so like, maybe it's a valid option ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
The ~Water Tribe~ look is based off Sokka's swimwear and not Katara's, mostly because chest binding seems antithetical to airbending.
All the other undergarment designs are based on hanfu neiyi, because that's what I could find reference photos and romanized names for.
I'm tired of typing now. Lemme know if you have questions about something, or want me to post a larger version of a specific outfit. I am open to feedback and tentatively open to requests.
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zonigiri · 1 year
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎'𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓
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pairing: gojo x f!reader
summary: inspired by this post by @gojoest and tags/addition by @kagelun. i have nothing to say for myself (sorry)
wc: 1.2k
cw: fluff, gojo being gojo & divider credits to @saradika!
a/n: wrote the outline for this fic in my 20mins break at work and finished it mostly on bus rides to and from work. felt like i needed that to be mentioned somewhere
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"I hate when you do that," Gojo whined from his place on the bed, lying with his limbs spread out. He had a habit of making the queen sized bed look like a single whenever he was even partially horizontal on it.
"Do what?" you ask absentmindedly, in the middle of putting your clothes back on.
"That." 
"Toru we've been over this, I'm not moving in with you. Living with you would drive me actually insane."
You're facing away but you can feel his pout deepen. You hear the tell tale sounds of the bed squeaking and you know the menace you call your boyfriend, is making his way over to you with an impassioned defense. He might as well have flashcards with him and sometimes you wonder how if he wasn't a man-child with such ridiculous hills to die on, or the strongest sorcerer in this world, in an alternate universe he would've made a decent lawyer. 
"That's not what I was talking about but now that you've brought it up, I can think of at least 5 reasons why-" 
"Gojo," you turn to face him with a pointed stare. He withers under your gaze and your use of his formal name and you go back trying to get the clasps of your bra to get to stick to the intended hooks, instead of the one above or the one below. After a few moments of fiddling, you give up fighting a losing battle.
"Can you do my clasps?"
You look over your shoulder at Gojo, glance at your hands and look back at him expectantly. He shifts to stand behind you, fingers gentle and unsure as you feel them on your back. You let go of the straps in your hand and wait patiently. 
"This is what I meant, you know."
You tilt your head to the side a little and because over months Gojo has learned to read your little gestures like a book, he knows that despite your silence that's a sign for him to continue. Not that he ever needed one anyway.
"Why do you need to wear when you have all the support you need right here?"
Gojo cups your breasts with his large hands. You lightly smack his hands with yours but all that makes him do is give them a little squeeze. 
"Look at how much better I am at this! I can hold them exactly the way you want them to!" 
Like a child at a science fair demonstrating his beloved project, Gojo proceeds to squeeze your breasts closer together along with his words. You let out a sigh and a little shake of your head, and you decide to humour him to try and beat him at his game. 
"...plus my hands are so much warmer! And they're definitely more comfortable than some of these godawful ones." 
He glares dirtily at your open lingerie drawer. 
"That's not what you called them when I wore them for you last Friday."
"You're not playing fair," he mumbles into your neck. 
You give it some time, basking momentarily in the warmth of Gojo's body so close to yours, before you place your hands over the ones covering your breasts and kiss his fingertips. 
"Toru, I'm going to miss my bus, will you please do my clasps?" 
"Hai," he says in a drained monotone like a school child being asked to do something dreadfully boring. 
Satoru keeps his word this time and you hear the little click of the hooks attaching in place. Tugging your bra to make yourself comfortable, you turn around in his arms to place a sweet kiss on Gojo's lips, "Thank you baby."
Leaving him standing, you walk over to pick up your jumper and you quickly slip into it. While pulling up your jeans you noticed Gojo's attention had shifted and he was now inspecting the contents of your drawer. Picking up the straps of cloth and lace and trying to figure them out with the face of someone trying to solve a nuclear equation with utmost concentration.
You don't have to wait for long to know what he's thinking, you hardly do. Gojo never shies away from voicing his opinions. All of them, no matter how inane or inappropriate.
"You know, I think I'd be better at designing these."
"Yeah?" 
"Yeah! I mean you keep saying the wire hurts and…" you hear bits and pieces of what he says , his voice full of robust conviction while you finish getting ready. In the meantime, Gojo appears to have taken a serious interest in the construction of female lingerie. You didn't have the heart to explain the intricacies of women's fashion and how since ages, pain and discomfort was woven into the very fabric and principle. Not right now anyway, while you were already running late for a bus with a temperamental schedule and a history of not following it. You looked into the mirror for a last quick check to make sure everything was in place and you walked over to your boyfriend, still somewhat lost in thought. You took his face between your hands, squished him gently and kissed him after letting go.
"Bye baby, love you!"
As always Gojo's lips stay on yours for a little longer, even after you pull away. Ending kisses is not something Gojo excels at, especially not when they're with you. He pulls away reluctantly and with that, you're gone. The door behind you shuts with a little click and Gojo's left to his own devices for the day.
Later that night you're cuddled in bed with him, his limbs wrapped around you like a blanket, the only way he knows how. Gojo's voice pipes up in the dark, "You know, I think I've figured out how to make it work."
"Hm?"
"How to make the bras work without hurting. I even came up with designs, I think you'd like them." 
There's silence, but he knows you're awake and you're listening. He knows the rhythm of the way your chest rises and falls when you're asleep in his arms.
"I even came up with the name of the company."
You shuffle a little in his hold to turn to face him. Even when lying down, his face is a whole head above yours.
"Yeah? What is it?"
"Gojo's secret."
It takes a while for it to sink in and then your laughter rings out in the dead of the night. A genuine, hearty outburst at his very earnest response. It gets you an offended, "Hey! It's a good name! I mean I might run into copyright issues but I…" and Gojo pulls you closer to him in efforts to get you to listen to him seriously but you don't hear the rest of it very clearly over the sound of your own laugh. With every next word that comes out of his mouth you collapse into a fresh fit of giggles and Gojo complains that you're not listening to his flawless 7-step-plan to take over the whole industry that he spent all day thinking up. Pouty that you're not taking him seriously, despite the fact that you almost never do, Gojo untangles you (gently) from his grasp and turns around to face the other way. 
" 'm not talking to you."
You're used to his antics by now so you turn to spoon him, throwing your leg over his with abandon and slipping your hand over his chest. You hear a little "hmph" uttered under his breath without any real malice but all it does is make you squeeze him a little tighter (lovingly).
"Goodnight Toru, love you."
You press a kiss to his shoulder and shuffle in closer to him to make yourself comfortable to go to sleep. The next morning when you wake up, and you wake up earlier than Gojo does, you realize the two of you are in exactly the opposite position from when you went to bed. You're curled up against Gojo, back to his chest, and one of his hands has somehow made its way through the night to loosely cup your left breast in his large hand. 
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desolationtimstoker · 17 days
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gerry keay (classic flavor):
skinny. not in a way most people notice off the bat, because he's quite tall and very good at looking big, but leitner hunting burns a lot of calories and he's been chronically underfed for most of his life
eye tattoos on each of his joints, placed there by supernatural means as a protective ward against other powers
his hair always looks like shit for several reasons, including but not limited to:
- he doesn't like to dye it when his mother is around, both because of the vulnerability of the position and because he doesn't like to be Perceived by her while doing anything he actually. ya know. enjoys. this means that it has a lot of time to fade and his roots grow out.
- if she's around too often for a stretch of time, he has to find a local business he hasn't already been banned from and rinse it out in one of their sinks. this leaves it looking understandably patchy and rushed.
- the dye he uses is cheap as hell -- having his own money is an occasional luxury which cannot be taken for granted.
- he just. generally doesn't take care of himself and his hair suffers overall as a result. he doesn't shower often enough and when he does he uses precisely one (1) type of soap. and it's like. if they have irish springs bar soaps in england then it's that and if they don't then it's the closest equivalent.
he isn't actually like. goth. as we would think of it.
black clothes don't show bloodstains and they made him feel safe edgy and dangerous as a teenager.
we're talking thrift store jeans purchased when he was 16 an never replaced. maybe some band tees. boots for marching into a den of hunt avatars.
the leather jacket is also secondhand and while yes he does feel very badass and cool in it it's also a practical piece. good for fighting. especially when the people you're fighting might have claws or want to set you on fire.
sewing needle piercings with visible scarring around them.
he just generally looks. kinda sick all the time? again, not something that usually registers because he's also good at being intimidating but if you're looking for it there's all kinds of evidence of chronic sleep deprivation and malnutrition. he looks unhealthy, concerning.
gerry keay (tmagp):
goth. like, real goth. like buying from thrift stores still but more often and having fun with it now.
we're talking fishnets. we're talking eyeliner. we're talking black lipstick. we're talking absurd and impractical jewelry. we're talking dabbles in lacy skirts and definitely owns a corset. and yes he still wears a leather jacket but exclusively because it feels cool and badass. he's goth babey!
no longer skinny. precise body type is whatever your heart tells you is true but three square meals agree with him and he's gained a very noticeable amount of weight.
the hair dye is still not professional, his roots grow in occasionally and it's still a bit patchy, because he's still doing it at home, but also. he's doing it at home. it's fun, and he has fun with it. the dye is better quality. gertrude helps him with touchups. black is still a favorite but he's dabbled in other colors, dark purples and greens and blues.
loves to be covered in stuff. when he's baking, he will intentionally smear flour on his black pants and make it look accidental, and when he paints he doesn't wash his hands. this is partially so he can see the evidence himself, and partially because he wants people to notice it and ask. he wants to say, "oops, i was baking earlier, i must've wiped my hands on my pants."
he still has shitty irresponsible piercings from when he was a teenager. the more recent ones are more professional.
his tattoos are pretty and useless. he designed most of them himself.
there's color in his face. sleeping gets a little easier every night.
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just-mint-to-be · 1 year
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Many requests for our favourite masked macho, made them nice and long for that reason. Hope I did him justice!
Yandere! Ghost/Simon Riley Headcanons
- There exists two sides to this man; Ghost and Simon. In many ways they’re one and the same, a major part being how downright enamoured he is with you.
- Ghost is tactical on all fronts-he identifies you as a target immediately, assesses the situation, and begins putting together a plan of attack.
- He begins by learning your routine and what makes you tick. It starts off basic, a few simple facts to get a better idea of how to make his move. Where you work, what hours, what you do for fun etc.
- But then, his strategy delved into one of perfectionism. You were his most important objective ever; he had to know, adore and memorise every facet of your being to even entertain the thought of successfully winning you over.
- Alas, he’s forced to make a split decision one day. You bringing home a new partner, someone speaking to you in a way he doesn’t approve of… anything that at last ignites the raging need to become something more than a shadow or bump in the night in your world.
- He’s awfully efficient at taking you, even better at keeping you contained.
- It’s after awhile, even after you see his face, that Simon becomes apparent. He’ll show you kindness in every way, but it’s only when he grows to trust you won’t (or rather, can’t) leave him that he displays any true vulnerability.
- This is when he becomes even more intimidating, even stricter in his ways. It’s when he realises just how human, how alive you make him feel that he chastises his own negligence.
- He’ll make you watch on as he trains; honing in hand to hand combat and all handgun skills. Partially to prepare for anyone that should try to take you from him, and to discourage you from trying to leave (not that he’d ever dream of actually hurting you.)
- He might even go as far as acquiring a highly trained guard dog or two, a selfish remedy for you should you complain of being lonely when he’s not there.
- Simon is more physically affectionate than spoken, awfully fond of keeping a possessive hand on your waist (or alternatively ass) whenever you’re in company or out.
- Hickeys are dime a dozen; the more clear the better, even if he’s the only one to see them.
- That doesn’t mean he neglects a smoky, loving nickname when hugging you from behind, a pastime of his enjoying the reaction of sneaking up on you.
- ‘Ya’ cute when ya’ scared gorgeous, but I’m here for a kiss…’
NSFW
- A dom through and through. He’s too paranoid to ever fully loose control, even in the bedroom.
- He’s a bit more vocal during sex, dirty talking and swearing quite freely.
- ‘Fuck y/n,’ giving your hips a squeeze, ‘you’re fucking perfect.’
- If you’ve been particularly difficult, the mask stays on during. It’s a subtle nod to his preparedness; if you want to put up a fight, he’ll dress for the occasion.
- What better way to keep your attitude in check with nothing but an icy gaze cloaked by a skull graphic staring at you as you go down on him?
- Definitely cradles your cheek during oral, a few encouraging praises following.
- ‘That’s a good little darlin, you must’ve been bloody made for me’
- As aforementioned, he’s fond of leaving his mark. Hickeys, bites deep enough to leave an indent but not scar etc.
- Will sometimes forbid you from getting your clothes back on after, even if he is no longer naked. Too cold, or complaining?
- Simple, he’ll enjoy the way you look clad in nothing but one of his oversized shirts for the next 24 hours.
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pinkanonwrites · 1 month
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Thinking about the concept of cloth or soft things in general being considered luxury to cybertronians, and just imagining one using their holoform to enter a bedroom for the first time. There a big soft berth that sinks under their weight, an entire pile of warm insulating plush fabric, and even more small soft pads that they put their heads on! Could you imagine their reaction to a carpeted room? They even put soft things on the ground they walk on! It would be like looking at one of ridiculously luxurious mansions that are so loaded up with fancy things that it almost looks like a parody
This conjured up a little idea in me with ROTB Mirage, enjoy!
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"Watch your shoulders on the-!"
CRUNCH
"...Door frame." So much for getting your deposit back. Mirage shot you a crooked grin, brushing some of the sheet-rock dust off of his shoulder pauldron.
"Sorry 'bout that, sweetspark. No big deal, you can patch that up no problem!"
When Noah had told you that Mirage was able to change his size you had only partially believed him. After all, according to his own stories, the Mirage that was barely larger than Noah in Peru had also had several significant pieces blasted off of his gargantuan frame. And yet, here he was. Fully repaired, mass-shifted to a mere seven-and-a-half feet tall. And sure, he still had to stoop to avoid taking out your ceiling fan. But here he was, in your meager apartment.
It was an equally unfamiliar locale for Mirage himself, having only caught peeks of your living quarters from the alleyway outside. The shag carpet was plush under his pedes, ridiculously soft to the touch. And sure, he'd owned a few of his own garments back in the Towers, in pre-war time, but it still paled in comparison to your room with its thick curtains, fluffy carpeting, and the dozen or so plush organic creatures littering your bed.
"Do you wanna listen to something? You can sit on the bed, if you want. You're probably too big for my desk chair." You were already rifling through your tapes, gesturing to the bed with your free hand and currently oblivious to Mirage's wide-optic stare. He took a careful seat on the edge and Primus, the entire mattress sunk and molded around his bulky frame. It was heavenly. He took one of your stuffed animals between his servos and squeezed, marveling at the squish.
"Man, I can't believe y'all live like this!" He laughed, draping himself backwards onto your bed with a warning creak. "It's comfy, that's for sure. But I don't think I could sleep on somethin' like this. It might swallow me up mid-recharge. And what's with all these little soft organics?"
"Says the guy who sleeps on the floor of a garage. I'd have aches in muscles I didn't even know existed." You pressed Talking Heads 'Speaking In Tongues' into the player with a familiar click, the beginning lick of Burning Down The House echoing through the tinny speaker as you flopped down next to Mirage. "And you're strangling Hello Kitty. They're cute, and soft, and that's kind of all there is to it? Kids like to play with them, too."
"Huh! Cute. Seems like your style. The whole hab seems like your style, actually. All soft and shit. " He handed you back your slightly-dented Hello Kitty, letting out a lazy ex-vent as his arm wrapped around your shoulders. "Well what should we do now?~ You got me all the way up into your berth, aren't you gonna do somethin' about it?"
You barked out a laugh, turning your head to see Mirage's playfully smarmy grin aimed down at you. "Was that your ploy? Show off your cool alien shape-shifting just so you could get in my bed?"
"That depends. Is it working?~"
"Maybe.~"
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heavyhitterheaux · 1 month
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Got Me Thinking
Part 5: From Paris With Love (Slight NSFW)
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Synopsis: After spending time with Jack, the two of you end up in an argument, which leads to you not wanting to speak to him. He then surprises you with a trip to Paris, but is the love that you have for one another enough to survive the whirlwind of events that come after?
Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader
Series Masterlist 💕
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
The conversation with Neelam that you had earlier was distracting you from focusing on you actually being able to spend time with Jack since the two of you would have to go weeks at a time without seeing one another.
Those facetime calls didn't cut it all the time.
Waiting until the crowd died down after the show, Jack volunteered to walk you out to your car but made sure to wear a hoodie in order to cover his curly hair in the hopes that no one would notice him. Jack knew that you could read him like a book, but reading you was a completely different ballgame and at times could be difficult for him. He could tell that something was on your mind and quickly got to the point to ask you about it.
“What's on your mind Buttercup?” He asked while starting to play with the ends of your hair.
“Hmm just thinking how much I'm going to miss you after I leave and how bad I want to kiss you, but we’re out in the open and there's too many eyes.”
All Jack did was look at you because he knew you were lying through your teeth.
“Hmm, that's definitely a lie. That might be partially true, but there's something else more to it. I'll let it slide for now, but don't think I'm going to forget.”
When you were silent, he quickly spoke again.
“I want you to stay with me tonight. My hotel isn't far from here. That way I feel that I can give you my undivided attention without us being interrupted.”
“Uhh? Isn't your wife here with you?” You asked, looking at him dumbfounded.
“That's why I booked two rooms. Yours is on a completely different floor so the two of you won't cross paths. And you weren't concerned when you had my dick in your mouth in my dressing room earlier knowing that she was here.”
“Isn't she going to notice you aren't next to her during the night? And you obviously didn't have a problem either since your face was between my thighs.” You shot back and all he did was smirk at you.
“Nope. And even if she does, I'll make up an excuse. So what do you say? And my favorite place to be is in-between your thighs.”
All you could do was roll your eyes and laugh.
“I didn't even bring any of my clothes and this is not going to be comfortable to sleep in.”
“Babe, what we're going to be doing doesn't involve clothes so that should be the least of your worries.”
“JACKMAN!”
“What!? What'd I say?!”
“Meaning in the morning, I'm not leaving in the same outfit I came in.”
“I have everything that you need already in your hotel room and all you have to do is bring yourself. Your husband can do without having you at home for one night.”
“He’s not even at home.”
“See? Even better. I just want to love up on my girl and give her the attention that she deserves. I have the key with me and was going to let you leave first so we don’t run the risk of anyone seeing you.”
“Looks like I’ll see you soon then.” You replied while smirking as he slipped you the hotel key.
“I shouldn’t be too much longer, and I’m going to wait until she falls asleep. And usually when she’s out, she’s out because she needs all her strength the next morning to stress me the fuck out.” Jack muttered, but you couldn’t help but to laugh.
“I’m serious, I don’t know if a switch finally went off in my brain but overall she’s not a nice person and not a good person. She is literally the definition of what you would call a mean girl.”
“You just finally realized that you deserved better and that definitely isn’t with her.”
“But enough about that. I just can’t wait to have you whimpering my name underneath me.”
Once you had gotten to the hotel and parked your car in the parking lot that was on the side of the building, you made your way to the room that Jack set aside for you and when you opened the door, the first thing you did was kick off your shoes.
He hadn’t just gotten you a simple hotel room, but an entire suite and your jaw was on the floor looking around it in awe.
You immediately grabbed your phone and sent him a text letting him know that you were there.
You- Now, Jackson…. An entire suite for just one night? You didn’t need to do all this.
Jack Jack- Yes I did because I want you to be comfortable. My baby girl deserves the best and who's to say that we’re only going to be there for one night?
All you did was laugh to yourself once you finished reading his text and went to explore the other parts of the suite.
Before you knew it, you had dozed off on the couch with the television on simply for background noise waiting for Jack and was woken up by him placing kisses all over your face before reaching the final destination of your lips.
“Hmm? What time is it?” You asked him while looking around for your phone.
“It’s around two, I’m sorry I didn’t think it would take this long.”
“No need to apologize, I got to go to sleep for a little bit so I don’t mind.”
“Mmm hmm, because you’re going to need it. If you aren’t too tired for me, I’m going to need for you to lose these clothes.” He said while helping you stand up and reaching underneath your skirt as he met your lips with yours.
“That can be arranged, but only if you take them off me.” You whispered against his lips when you broke the kiss and all he did was nod.
Jack was now holding onto your hips and eased his way in as he entered you from behind and you were leaning down against the pillow and biting down on your lip hard as you tried your best in order to keep quiet.
You had lost count of how many different positions that he had you in and just knew that he didn’t plan on stopping anytime soon and it wouldn’t surprise you if it started to get light outside either.
As you were whimpering and quietly moaning his name as he pounded into you, all he did was smirk before leaning down to place kisses all along your spine and whisper in your ear.
“My baby is taking me so well, are you going to cum for me?”
You couldn’t form an answer with words and simply nodded.
“Damn, this dick so good it got you speechless?” Jack spoke again and laughed and you couldn’t help but to roll your eyes.
Feeling him pull out, you were left confused until you felt his tongue run against your folds as he started eating you out from the back.
“Oh fuck, babe.”
“Stay still, why are you moving away from me?” He asked before going back to his task of making you come undone in front of him.
A few minutes later, you felt him stop once more and he quickly heard your protests before he slid underneath you so that you were now sitting on his face and he wrapped his arms around your thighs in order to keep you in place.
“Be patient because I have all night.” Was the last thing you heard him say before you felt him start to suck on your clit which led to you moaning his name.
You were now laying your head on Jack’s chest as he was drawing shapes on your back and the two of you were in a comfortable silence. You felt yourself dozing off to sleep when you suddenly heard his voice.
“Buttercup?”
“Yes, babe?” You sleepily answered with your eyes still closed.
“I have a question.”
“Go ahead and ask me then.”
“Why don’t you just file for divorce now? You told me that the baby has been born so what is even left for you in that marriage?”
“I just want to make sure that I do it the right way by making sure everything is in place before I do.”
“Babe, money is not an issue because you know I’m going to get you anything that you need or anything that you want. I just don’t like seeing you upset about him all the time. You know that you deserve better so I don’t have to tell you that, but…”
“Money definitely isn’t an issue. I just don’t want anything to happen that would make him want to retaliate against me.”
“Retaliate against you for what? He has a side chick and a baby, so why would he even do that?”
“That’s just how he is, and that’s why he’s such a good businessman. Sadly to say, he’s cut throat and doesn’t show any mercy and I know for a fact it’s to the point where he won’t hesitate to make me miserable. I was never on the receiving end of that, but I feel like once I file for divorce I will be.”
“Baby, all the more reason to get the fuck away from him so we can be together like we want to be. Why do I feel like you’re hesitating? Isn’t this what we talked about and isn’t this what we want? For you to finally move back to Louisville and live with me?”
“I’m not hesitating.”
“Yes you are and you keep giving me excuses. You’re a damn CRNA for fucks sake but moving back you will definitely have a pay cut but right now, you can afford the lawyer and all the fees, but I will pay for you to divorce that asshole, so what excuse are you going to give me now?”
Your eyes were now open as you sat up and looked at him.
“Why are you rushing me?”
“Buttercup, I’m not by any means rushing you. I just don’t want to see you upset all the time about what he’s doing to you.”
“Why are we only talking about me in this situation? You’re asking me what the hold up is on my end, but what is the hold up on yours? You have an entire wife that you need to divorce too, do you not?”
“I do and it’s going to happen, but unlike you I’m not making excuses and hesitating. I’m ready to file for divorce and get away from her, but I’m also waiting on you so hopefully they can be finalized at the same time. I made her sign a prenup, well, Neelam made her sign one so she isn’t getting a damn thing from me. How could you still love someone like that who has fucked you over a countless number of times? He literally got another woman pregnant.”
“And I don’t know that? How many times are you going to remind me? I already feel stupid about still loving someone like that and this conversation isn’t making it any better.”
“I want to be all in with you, but we can’t do that unless some changes are made. I want for you to experience this life with me. This is literally what we talked about when we were seventeen. There is NOTHING left for you and him. If we would have stayed together, I know for a damn fact that we would have been married by now.”
“But would we? You would have probably had to hide me once Gen Now signed you to push that single narrative.”
“What the? Where is that coming from? The first thing that I would have wanted to do was fucking protect you because this life I live isn’t easy and the last thing I would want is you getting hurt by it. Y/N, why can’t you see how much I STILL love you?”
“I… need to leave.”
“What?! It’s six in the morning and you’ve hardly gotten any sleep. I don’t want you driving anywhere and we’re not done talking about this. Why are you running from me? What are you scared of? You know that I’m going to love and protect you and treat you how you deserve to be treated. If anything, I’m the one who should be mad at you because it honestly feels like you’re making it seem like I’m a second choice to Xavier when I for damn sure treat you better than he does.”
“That is NOT fucking fair and you KNOW it. What was I supposed to do? Wait for you? It's not like I intended on him doing that to me!”
“YES!”
“So now I’m being guilt tripped into falling in love with someone else? You had every single opportunity to reach out to me if you really wanted us to be together, but you didn’t. So, why the fuck did you get married in the first place?”
“How was I supposed to know that I would get a second chance? Or at least I’m trying to get a second chance with you, but you are making it so got damn difficult.”
“Then let me help make this easier for you since I’m so difficult. I’m leaving and don’t even bother fucking calling me again.”
“Baby, baby wait. Hold on, just please. Let’s back up for a second.” He pleaded with you as you got up and made your way into the bathroom, but he beat you to it and ended up blocking the doorway. You simply crossed your arms over your chest and looked at him.
“Jackman Thomas, get the fuck out of my way.”
“I’m not losing you for a second time!”
“Too late, because you already did.”
Once you had left the suite, Jack then took the long walk back to his room with Kelsey and was praying that she wasn’t awake quite yet. But once he opened the door, he silently cursed to himself because she was wide awake and looking at him.
“Where were you?” She asked without bothering to say good morning to him.
“I went for a walk, I wasn’t gone long.”
“Hmm, I need to ask you something.”
“Can it wait?”
“No, it can't wait. Who is Y/N to you?”
Now, he wasn’t quite sure what the two of you were anymore.
“I told you that we knew each other in high school, so what’s the big deal?” He asked before sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Well, I don’t like her and I don’t want you around her anymore.”
Jack whipped his head around to stare at her in disbelief.
“And who the hell are you to think that you can tell me who I can have around me? And how do you not like her when you don’t know her?”
“I’m your wife and she makes me uncomfortable and you should respect that.”
“She literally didn’t even do anything.”
“Were the two of you just friends in high school or more?”
“Why are you so pressed about this?”
“Answer my damn question.”
“I’m not answering shit until you lose that attitude. It’s like you just wake up and decide how the hell can I get on Jack’s nerves today?”
“You get on my last nerve, do you know how lucky you are to have me as your wife? Other men would jump at the opportunity to have me if I was single.”
“Then go ahead and be single, no one’s fucking stopping you. And I’m lucky? Explain that because I’m not quite understanding.”
“I just want to know what she is to you.”
“She’s my friend and she’s my ex-girlfriend. Are you happy now?”
“WAIT, your ex-girlfriend?!”
“Did I stutter? Now, I’m going to sleep if you don’t mind because I’m still tired.”
“We aren’t done with this!”
“Yes we are because I answered your question and since any man would be lucky to have you, go out and find them and stop bothering me.”
“Well she needs to get the message that you’re my husband and not hers.”
“Hmm, am I?”
“What the hell is wrong with you this morning? You act like I went out and cheated on you.”
“Kelsey, let’s not go there because you did and I took your ass back despite you doing that. But you best believe that if I had known on our wedding day what you had done, we would not be married right now. Truth be told, I should have left your ass at the altar if I knew.”
“I… I apologized about that and I regret it. Why are you still holding it against me?”
“Seriously? You literally cheated on me hours before we said our vows so you can save it.”
It had been over a month since you last talked to Jack and you had simply been going through the motions. You were upset how the two of you ended things, but still felt as if he was rushing you. You had been back to Louisville a few times since you were slowly moving things out of your house that you wanted to take with you and of course, Xavier hadn't noticed anything. Which you weren’t the least bit surprised by.
Urban had been calling you
Clay had been calling you
Neelam had been calling you
And you told each of them the same thing, for right now, you and him were done.
Jack called you nonstop for the first two weeks and then his calls just stopped altogether right along with the texts as well. Thinking about the situation, both of you could have handled the conversation differently and it didn’t have to end with you leaving. But as of right now, you were in a weird headspace. In order to not think too deeply about your feelings about the entire situation, you drowned yourself into working and uploading content to your TikTok that was centered around nursing and working as a CRNA.
Your best friend Taina who you also worked with could tell that something was bothering you and without a second thought you said yes to her asking you out for brunch one day that the two of you had off. You met in nursing school and also went on to get your CRNA certification together and she had been your rock through the entire mess that had been going down with Xavier. However, she didn’t know too much about you and Jack reuniting and after seeing your instagram post a while back, she made note to ask you about it but never did. So she figured now was her opportunity.
The two of you were sitting across from one another and you were sipping on your orange juice as she was eyeing you.
“Y/N….”
“Yes?”
“What has been going on because you haven’t been yourself lately. I get everything with Xavier, and I offered to cut his balls off and feed them to him, but you declined. However, I feel that it’s something else.”
“Hmm, been sleeping with my ex-boyfriend since March.” You casually told her as you were scanning the menu and trying to decide what you were going to eat.
“Hold on, back up. Which ex-boyfriend?” Tania asked because there had been a few of them when the two of you were in college.
“The one I was with when I was in Louisville.” You answered and suddenly her eyes went wide with a realization.
“Hmm, would his name happen to be Jack?”
“Not so loud!” You exclaimed as you shushed her, but all she did was smirk.
“Okay… so? How’s that going? When can I meet him?”
“Well we got into an argument and we haven’t talked to each other in about a month.”
“What? Why?”
“Long story short, both of us are supposed to get divorced and then be together, but it turned into an argument because he said he felt like I was hesitating even though he also has an entire wife.”
“But, let’s be real. What are you waiting for exactly?” Tania asked and all you did was look at her because it seemed like now you didn’t have an answer.
“Y/N, from what you’ve told me over the years about him, he is head over heels in love with you and he wants to be with you so kick Xavier’s ass to the curb and be with someone who you know is going to love you and treat you how you’re supposed to be treated.”
“You’re right, I just don’t know. I’ve gotten comfortable in this life as stupid as that may sound. I know I deserve better, but I cannot open my heart again because I’m scared. What if we break up and we truly end up hating each other? He truly does mean the world to me and I would never in a million years want to hurt him.”
“You say that, but however, the way you two left off with each other made me think that you did hurt him and hurt his feelings. Not saying that he didn’t do the same thing to you, but just talk it out with him. I’m sure he wants to hear from you. He is not Xavier and never will be.”
“I don’t know, he stopped calling me after the first two weeks when I didn’t answer and hasn’t called since.”
“Then you call him and see if he wants to talk. Y/N, the people around you want so much better for you and I’m sad that Xavier has you so brainwashed that you can’t see it.”
“There’s something else….” You started to say as you looked down and started to play with your bracelet.
“What is it?”
“I miss my period and think I might be pregnant.”
“I…. Y/N! When we leave here, the first thing you are going to do is call that man! And I want an update after you do.”
It had been a total of two hours that you had been staring at your phone contemplating on if you were going to pick it up and call Jack.
But once again you were scared. Scared that he was going to reject you and not want to have anything to do with you anymore. But, you knew that you had to try.
You decided to facetime him and it rang for a while before he finally answered.
When you saw him, your breath hitched in your throat and your heart was now beating a mile a minute as you were the first to speak.
“Hi.” Was all you said and you couldn’t quite read his expression.
“Did you need something?” He asked and skipped over the greeting entirely.
“I… just want to talk. I didn’t like how it ended the last time we saw each other.”
“I consistently tried to call you and talk to you for fourteen days, so why do you want to talk now?”
“Because I was mad at you. You were right… about some things and I just wasn’t quite ready to hear it.”
It was quiet for a few seconds as Jack was simply looking at you and you saw Clay walk behind him.
“Look, meet me on the tarmac at LAX around 7 tomorrow morning.” Jack finally spoke up and you looked at him with wide eyes.
“Wait, what?”
“A car will come and pick you up. Pack a few casual outfits, but other than that I got it handled. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Um, okay.”
Without another word the two of you hung up and you simply sat there unsure about what just happened. He seemed annoyed with you which you could understand, but obviously he still wants this just as bad as you do because he answered the phone. You sat there for a few more minutes before you hopped up to run into your walk-in closet to drag out your suitcase.
The next morning, you were now pulling up to the private jet in the car that Jack had sent for you and the butterflies you had been feeling the entire ride on the way here, had now been doubled. He obviously wanted to see you, because why else would he tell you to meet him here? The driver opened the door for you and helped you out of the car as your suitcase was loaded onto the plane. The first one to pop up and greet you was Neelam who quickly went in for a hug.
“I’m so happy you came. He definitely needs a little pick me up. He’s already on the plane so come on.” She said as she squeezed your hand and started to lead you to the steps of the jet, but you stopped walking and she turned back to look at you confused.
“Y/N? Are you okay?”
Your eyes simply started to water before giving her an answer, but she saw them and quickly reassured you.
“He’s missed you just as much as you’ve missed him. Don’t worry about what may have happened before, just move forward.
You nodded your head towards her as she went up the steps first as you followed behind her. Once the two of you were on the jet, she went straight to Urban and hit him across the back of his head because he had apparently been eating her fries which you laughed at.
Your eyes were searching for him and saw that he was simply in the back by himself gazing out the window and you started to make your way towards him. Once you reached him, he seemed to be deep in thought and didn’t notice you standing next to him until you ran your hand through his curls. Startled, he looked up at you before standing up and placing you in a giant bear hug.
“I’m sorry.” He quietly said as his head rested on top of yours.
“I am too.” You whispered as you held onto him tighter.
Once the two of you broke apart, he leaned down to place several kisses on your lips which you gladly accepted and that instantly put a smile on your face.
All you heard was whistling and turned around to see Clay and Urban smirking at both of you as Neelam was trying to eat the rest of her fries before Urban got to them.
“It’s about time the lovebirds reunited.”
Everyone got settled and it was soon time for takeoff. You and Jack were cuddled up with each other in the back with him stealing kisses every few minutes and everyone else was scattered throughout the plane.
“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going?” You finally asked when the plane had been in the air for a few hours at this point.
“Give me another kiss and I might tell you.”
All you did was shake your head at him before smirking and pulling his face towards yours to grant his wish.
“Okay, so now tell me.”
“You’re coming to Fashion Week with me.”
“Okay?”
“In Paris.” He added on and knew that your facial expression was about to be priceless.
Your eyes then went as big as saucers as you looked at him and all he did was laugh.
“And I got Givenchy to make you a dress that was specially made just for you. We’re getting there a day early just in case adjustments need to be made.”
“Babe…”
“I mean it when I said that I would do anything for you. I just want you to know that.”
You nodded your head at him to acknowledge what he said and he held you tighter as you laid your head on his chest.
“I have to tell you something.” You said as you glanced up at him and he nodded.
“I…. may or may not be pregnant. I missed my period, but I haven’t gotten a chance to take a test yet.” You whispered and all he did was lean down to place a kiss on your forehead.
“Whatever comes our way, we’re going to get through it together.”
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Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, neelamthadhani, cozane, givenchy, claybornharlow, quiiso, and 415,271 others
anesthesiabae: Paris is always a good idea. Thank you givenchy 💖
jackharlow: 😍😍😍 neelamthadhani: DAMN, if you weren't married and if I was into girls 👀👀 claybornharlow: OH, my good sis ATE! jackharlow: that dress was made for you, LITERALLY tainathecrna: you look so beautiful! my gorgeous girl! urbanwyatt: neelamthadhani I think you might have to fight a couple people to get next to her first neelamthadhani: urbanwyatt all I have to do is distract you with weed, clay with chic-fil-a and jack with a cigar. I'll make it happen.
It was now day three of you being in Paris with Jack and the two of you were on the balcony of your hotel room sitting in a comfortable silence when you finally broke it.
“Are we ever going to talk about that conversation and what was said?” You asked him as you looked at him and he took a deep sigh before nodding.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel as if I was rushing you, that is literally the last thing I want. But, I also need to be honest about my feelings, if neither of us were married, we literally would have gone to Vegas in March and eloped.” Jack honestly said and you couldn’t help but to laugh. 
“At the end of the day, I just want you to be happy. Aren’t you happy when you’re with me?” He asked you as you started to play with his Private Garden ring. 
“Y/N, look at me.” Jack told you as he placed his finger underneath your chin to guide it upwards.
“Jack I….”
“No, you don't have anywhere to be right now, especially anywhere that he is. You are right where you need to be and that’s here with me. Why do you keep running back to him when we both know he's not any good for you? It should have always been the two of us.”
“It's not that simple.”
“But it is that simple, baby and we’ve been through this. I know you’re scared, but it’s going to be okay. I’m not him and will never be. Look me in my eyes and tell me right now that you don't have feelings for me and I promise to never bother you again after this trip is over.”
All you did was stay silent as you were trying to regulate your breathing with him being so incredibly close to you. Your heart was beating a mile a minute as he moved a curl out of your face. Your thoughts were running rampant remembering all those times when your body was under Jack’s and for the first time in many years, you felt that someone actually loved and cared for you.
But you've always felt that way when you were around him.
Jack chuckled to himself when you couldn’t answer him and simply placed a soft kiss on your lips which you eagerly returned. You had your back towards the street and was hoping that no one had seen the two of you. 
“It sure is telling when I fly you out all over the world to experience this life with me when he can't even remember your fucking favorite color or your Starbucks order. Not to mention how you told me last night that you hadn't been fucked that good in years and you only feel that way towards me. Leave him so I can give you the life you deserved. The life that we talked about when we were in high school. Baby, let me take care of you the way I promised you that I would.”
You sat there as you listened to him and knew that he was good at keeping promises and keeping his word. So, what did you have to lose?
This is what you wanted and what you deserved.
“You've gotten so comfortable in being mistreated by him and that ends right now. So, are you going to give me an answer? Because you know you won't want for anything.”
“When I file for divorce, he's going to want half.”
“Let him have it. I have more than enough to take care of you.”
“So, we're really doing this?” You whispered as you placed your arms around him to hug him tighter.
“We’re doing this.” He answered while leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead.
“Hmm, the only question now is how your gold digging wife is going to take it.”
“She’ll get over it. She already knows that we dated because she was asking me about you and she kept nagging and of course she got an upset look on her face afterwards. But enough about that. When we both get back home, we’re filing for divorce.”
“And I can’t wait to be with you all the time.” You said as you looked up at him.
He leaned down to kiss you, but you stopped him, figuring that paparazzi were still out and about since it was Fashion Week.
“Babe, let’s go in the suite and off the balcony. We can’t risk anyone seeing us.”
“It’s fine, baby. No one is out here and it’s three in the morning. Just kiss me.”
You woke up in Jack’s arms because you heard your phone repeatedly going off in your ear and quickly heard his protests.
“Baby, turn it off.” You heard him say as he squeezed you tighter.
“I am, give me a minute!” You responded by laughing, but once you saw the numerous notifications your heart dropped.
Jack Harlow seen in Paris at Fashion Week making out with a mysterious woman who is NOT his wife Kelsey!
Your heart rate suddenly increased and you felt like it was getting harder to breathe. Jack noticed that you hadn’t laid back down yet and simply sat up to ask you what was wrong. 
“Baby?”
All you did was shove your phone towards him and he quietly uttered ‘fuck’ under his breath.
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jimblejamblewritings · 2 months
Text
the fake date plot | part 7.
Summary: Gryffindors, seventh years, classmates, unrequited love. Just a few things Y/N and James Potter had in common. When a brilliantly dumb plan is hatched the two end up getting something a little different than what they wanted.
Warnings for the Series: oh, this is a slowburn now. Or at least that's the plan.
Pairing: James Potter x reader
Word Count: 2.4k
A/N: yeah I know I've been gone for a year... I have no words, my bad
Previous Part | (Series Chapter List)
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You walked into James’ dorm on Wednesday afternoon, seeing only the other three marauders. They gave you cautious hellos as they watched you rifle through your boyfriend’s drawer. You lifted your head, looking at one of the other drawers. Maybe it was in the other one. James stepped out of the bathroom as you started digging through the second to last drawer in his writing desk. The steam from his shower rolled out into the dorm and made the room both hot and humid. 
“What are you looking for, bug?” 
“The bag of candy I gave you, I left my money pouch in it… I think, I hope so.” 
James, white towel still slung around his waist, moved to the top drawer of his writing desk. “I saw it last night but it was really late and then I got distracted with homework and practice. Here.” 
“Thank you…” you trailed off as you noticed a bead of water roll down James’ neck and continue down his body. 
“Distracted, love?” 
You looked up to see a stupid grin plastered on James’ face. The two of you had agreed that while everything was fake, shameless flirting was in fact allowed. A way for you to practice your skills. And clearly James was enjoying your reaction to the fullest. He wiggled his eyebrows making you roll your eyes. 
“Whatever, Potter.” 
“We’re on a last name basis now?” 
“Yes.” 
“Oh you wound me so, my darling.” He grabbed at his heart and pretended to stumble back. 
“You act like I’m in love with you.” 
“Y/N, you’re dating me.” 
You put your hand on his abs to shove him but James grabbed your hand, keeping it on his body. Sirius, Remus, and Peter exchanged looks. Remus, especially, was ready to set down his book and leave the room if you two needed some space. You let your hand linger for a moment longer before pushing off of James and taking your money pouch. Instead of leaving, you made yourself comfortable on his bed. 
“Dating you, James Potter, doesn’t mean I like you.” 
James leaned partially on his bed, mouth inches away from yours. “Bug, I don’t think you can date me if you don’t like me.” 
“Ah, ah.” You put your finger to his lip. “No kisses until you aren’t naked.” 
The laugh that came from James was light — a sound that his friends had never heard before. He got off of the bed to go find clothes like you asked, complaining the entire time that wearing a towel meant he wasn’t naked. The other marauders crept slowly to Remus’ bed. Sirius was so sure that you and James weren’t dating. He didn’t know why you two would lie about that but he was sure it was a lie. Now, he didn’t know. You might have still been a new friend to them but he was James’ brother. However, standing right in front of him, James looked so happy and genuine. 
Sirius watched as James put on only sweatpants before practically jumping on the bed and smothering you in kisses while you complained the entire time that not wearing a shirt or boxers still meant he was somewhat naked. Eventually James calmed down, thinking that going on for too long would look suspicious. 
You decided to stay for the night, getting up to go take a shower. James leaned over his bed to look for a spare shirt in his trunk, not wanting to get out of bed completely. He chuckled as you started your scream singing. For someone who could actually sing, he wasn’t sure why you chose to scream the songs when taking a shower. He closed his eyes for a moment of relaxation when one of the boys called his name. He looked back down to see it was Wormtail. The other three marauders beckoned him over. James wasn’t sure what they wanted but he had a feeling that he needed to turn his acting on. 
Remus was the first to breach the topic. “Y/N is a major part of our group now, we just want to make sure that you’re both okay.” 
“Why wouldn’t we be okay?” 
“I mean if you two break up th—” 
“We aren’t breaking up.” 
Peter sighed. “Mate, even if you like Y/N, you were in love with Lily for like seven years. I know it can’t be easy to just get over her. We don’t want Y/N or you to get hurt.” 
“I get it. But I would never hurt her. We’re together and I am committed to that.” 
“And your feelings for Lily?” 
“What do you want me to say to you guys? Yes, I still have some lingering feelings for Lily, of course. Y/N knows that and it’s going to take some time for them to go away but I really like her okay. My feelings for Lily get smaller by the week.” 
James had to stop the corners of his mouth from curling upwards. He had overheard them in the corridors when they thought he wasn’t around. Lily had tried to be casual when asking about the two of you. The rest of your friends had been trying to put all their situations with the two of you together and figure out if it was serious or not. James knew the boys were just snooping something to report back to Lily. 
“I know that Y/N and I aren’t serious yet b—” 
“You aren’t serious?” Remus asked. 
“I mean she still has feelings for Xenophilius, I’m not the only one having to get over someone. So we aren’t serious, but we are exclusive. I wouldn’t even think of snogging let alone sleeping with another girl if we’re exclusive. And we’ve decided that we will be currently.” 
“Currently?” 
“It might be easier to get serious if we are exclusive but no labels. We still need to sort our feelings out and maybe we’ll go on dates with other people to figure it out but that’s too much for either of us right now. And I’m not ready at all so, yeah, we’re exclusive currently.”  
“But not serious?” 
“Moony, are you deaf?” 
“Well,” Sirius interrupted. “Speaking of snogging. Have you? We’ve seen you kiss but have you snogged her.” 
“No.” 
The marauders left him alone after that, having gathered all the information needed. You came back out and flopped on James’ bed once more. He got up to cuddle with you. If anything happened afterwards, you didn’t know because you had fallen asleep. You were kind of excited for tomorrow. It was supposed to be a surprise but James told you that he had a date planned for you during your free time right after breakfast. Fake dates were still nice.
While you were having the sleep of your life, James’ brain was causing him to toss and turn. Lily actually seemed interested. He couldn’t believe it. This was the closest he’s ever been before. Maybe his plan wasn’t so dumb after all. You’d get Xeno, he’d get Lily and you both would be very happy. 
Morning rolled around. You tried to wiggle yourself out of James’ death grip, complaining quietly so you wouldn’t wake him. You could almost laugh as he whispered Lily’s name before remembering where you were. If any of the other boys heard him then there could be issues.
Although, you heard them last night. You sighed. Maybe you were only worried because if James got Lily too soon then you wouldn’t get Xeno. But you didn’t want to stop him from the love of his life, already understanding the feeling too well. They needed another plan. But at the moment, you needed to pee and get dressed in the last clean uniform you have before laundry needs to be done.  
To your surprise, the girls were up when you reached your shared dorm. You smiled sheepishly as you went to grab a washcloth from your wardrobe drawer so you could wash your face. Knowing they’d probably hound you if they were awake this early, you left the bathroom door open after using the toilet. It was nice to know they worried about you but also awkward at times. 
The girls looked at your outfit as they tried to figure out where the hell you came from. You had no shoes on, just slippers so you had to have stayed in the castle. But you were wearing sweatpants so you could have slept anywhere and been comfortable. Dorcas was the first to notice. 
“Is that James’?” she pointed to the cream colored thermal shirt you were wearing. 
You nodded with the toothbrush still in your mouth. The girls looked at each other. Honestly, they expected you to be at Alice’s dorm like you sometimes were. Lily, Marlene, and Mary decided to let Dorcas continue the line of questioning. 
“So you slept over at his dorm?” 
“Yeah,” you said before washing the rest of the soap suds off of your face and standing up straight again. “I thought I lost my money pouch but then I remembered I bought James candy at Honeydukes and was hoping I left it in the bag. Thank God I did. I just ended up crashing there because I got too lazy to move.” 
“You two are pretty serious it seems.” 
Hook. Line. And sinker. Part of you wanted to deviate from the plan because you just weren’t sure where you and Xeno stood but you couldn’t do that to James. Not when you had become good friends. So you snorted instead. 
“Not really. We’re just exclusive,” you repeated the thing you overheard James say to the boys. “I think it’s important to be when we’re trying to figure each other out.” 
“What’s there to figure out? You two like each other, don’t you?” Marlene asked. 
“Feelings are weird.” You finished changing and grabbed your bag. “Look, James are I are just talking. I know we’ve had some moments but it’s not like either one of us meant to be naked around each other. I was drunk once and then Sirius barged in a—” 
“Wait, James wasn’t in the shower already?” Mary interrupted. 
“Uh, no.” 
“So that was a lie?” 
“Do you know how embarrassing it is to admit that we hid from Sirius and he turned into a deer.” 
The girls started laughing so hard their sides were hurting. That sounded more like the James Potter they knew and something about the entire scenario seemed more endearing than the first story you told them. Lily stopped laughing and started smiling. One, because listening to the real story made James seem like a derpy sweetheart and two because you said you weren’t serious. Exclusive was in fact very different from serious. Everyone knew that. You all turned at the knock on the door and Lily’s smile faded a bit when James stepped in after being told he could enter. You put on your best surprised face. 
“Hi.” 
“Hey, bug, you left your money pouch again.” 
“I did?” 
“You need to enchant this thing… Hey, you’re free after breakfast right?” 
“Yes I am.” 
“Brilliant. Can I take you out on a date?” 
“Really?” 
“Yeah, we haven’t done that yet and we probably should.” 
You chuckled. “We probably should.” 
“Yeah,” he repeated himself. “Yeah, dates are good. Especially having a real date before your birthday. I can’t believe you have a Halloween birthday by the way. I’ve never met someone with that birthday before.” 
“James Potter, are you nervous?” 
“Nervous? No. It’s just a first date. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“I’m assuming you don’t want me to answer that.” 
“Please don’t.” 
You grabbed a purse before walking up to James and holding his hand. “Let’s go. No matter what happens, promise we’ll have fun.” 
“That I can do.” 
You and James sat on the top level of Three Broomsticks in the very back corner of the place. He opted to get the two of you food at the cafe portion instead of asking for a waiter so no one could interrupt you or worse overhear something they shouldn’t have. 
A sigh left your mouth. “Lily likes you and I don’t think we should drag that out before she loses interest again.” 
“But what about you and Xeno?” 
“What about us? He’s lost interest because I don’t have any experience so there’s no point in anything. Let’s just get you your girl and let me wallow in peace.” 
James set down your hot chocolate and looked you in the eye. “Do you really like Xeno? Like how I love Lily?” 
“Yes,” you answered from the depths of your heart. 
“Then we aren’t giving up. We’ll make him interested again. We need to be a whirlwind of passion and fiery breakup but nothing that can’t be mended either because I actually like being friends with you.” 
You and James finished eating breakfast and decided to stroll around Hogsmeade for the remainder of your free time. The two of you needed a plan with set dates and no deviations. You just wanted to be done with everything in no more than a week but James insisted on three months. In the end, you both compromised and decided on two months. Just until the end of the year and then you’d quit whether you got the guy or not. 
“But what are we going to do?” you asked. 
“Maybe we don’t work out… No, that’s not interesting enough.” 
You stopped walking, making James stop as well. “The jumper curse!” 
“What?” 
“The jumper curse, it’s a perfect way to break up. You, James Potter, will make me a jumper and later I will break up with you. In front of everybody.” 
“But why a jumper? What curse?” 
“You’re so daft sometimes.” 
“Hey!” 
“It’s true.” 
“Less insulting and more telling me about this curse.” 
“It’s an old wives tale but it happens enough that people don’t really question its truth if it does happen. It’s when one person makes the other a jumper and pretty soon after they break up.” 
“Why though?” 
“A host of reasons. The person that got the sweater thinks it’s too intimate too quick into the relationship so they end it, or the person doesn’t appreciate the maker enough, or the maker spends too much time with the jumper and not enough with the receiver. There’s probably way more I’m forgetting.” 
“Hmmm, not a bad idea at all, bug. Let’s do it.” 
The two of you made a plan to reconvene before the end of the day when there was time and to finalize details of the elaborate skit.
(part 8)...
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weebsinstash · 3 months
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Imagine just fckn tasering Valentino because he tries to touch you.
Like look at when he died! He's an old fuck! He's not gonna expect the small taser on the key chain to keep the pervs away.
Taser Valentino.
The future is now, old man!
You know this actually got me thinking about a different idea. Could you imagine being so terrified from his increasingly intense behavior that you get yourself a taser to carry around, and eventually you're grabbed by him and you're going to taser Valentino and, with a taser, you have to go for kind of a weak point, there are prongs that have to make contact, so you go for his neck since everywhere else is like, his coat
...but his neck fur is way too thick and the taser just gets caught and maybe even causes a spark on his fur and CATCHES IT ABLAZE
You're being shoved away while he's like FREAKING OUT, SHOUTING SCREAMING HOLLERING, trying to put it out, little embers become a flame, shit shit shit shit he never knew he was so FLAMMABLE--
It gets put out maybe even by someone DUMPING WATER ON HIM and now he's soaking wet, clothes ruined, missing a LARGE, VISIBLY LARGE portion of fur on one side of his neck and the fur around it is singed and damaged. now he's BEYOND FURIOUS because from HIS perspective, he was just, swiping you up to give you a little kiss, maybe slip some tongue in there, maybe bite your neck and shoulders a little, and you respond to his generous flirting and complimenting of you by ASSAULTING HIM, ruining his beautiful snow white fur like DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD IT IS TO KEEP THIS CLEAN--
You'd be getting such an awful punishment. A prolonged punishment really, besides a potential paddling (because i feel like yandere valentino goes for sexually painful punishments instead of beatings since um, that's a little hardcore for me, although i do think he'd still slap you in the face). He might make you do extra hard work for WEEKS, or he might get drunk and furious and even do something to YOUR hair. Furious coked up Valentino just appearing out of nowhere when your guard is down, grabbing you by your hair and you suddenly hear the ZZZZZZZ of ELECTRIC CLIPPERS and he's shaving your fucking head and POORLY and then afterwards when he's sobered up and calmed down he'll laugh at how ugly you look (and then force you to wear some kind of wig because 1 you're kinda uggo now and 2 MAYBE JUST MAYBE he doesn't like looking at the reminder he hurt you and you're upset with him
Like I'm sorry I think he'd really have to put in some fucking work to earn any affection back if he touched my fucking hair let alone left me partially or fully BALD like. Reader finally quits and runs away and now Val has to chase you down and uses you running away as a reason for further punishment, or he love bombs you and apologizes instead, makes you lower your guard so he can hurt you all over again
Separate idea. Can you imagine you're doing your whole "no one understands how you work for him without fucking him or being a sex worker" thing, and you're like, riding home or to work or somewhere with him and his other employees, and you're fishing things out of your purse or your bag or your pockets or whatever, and Valentino sees you briefly set aside a self defense weapon like a switchblade or a taser and he has a really immediate negative reaction about it, like "why the fuck are you carrying that around? You better not be having that on you at my clubs or in my fucking studio!" And he can immediately tell by your expression that you do, and maybe he even DEMANDS you hand it over, and Angel sitting beside him gets This LOOK on his face as he realizes that, Val doesn't want you to have something on you to defend yourself from HIM
You just look scared and confused and can't understand why Valentino's so angry and he plays it off as you're going to ruin his image if you're causing fights and acting wild, that he'll fire you and throw you out on the streets, meanwhile Angel knows his boss is still feeling paranoid after that one stripper Candy pulled a knife on him during sex after he threatened to make her do a donkey show last week (and also did you guys know that term is literal 💀💀💀 I thought it was horseplay bdsm 😅 Valentino literally canonically threatened Angel with making him film zoo porn and now I'm just wondering if he films EVERY kink genre because some of that gets.... reeeeeeal messed up....)
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