#they’re not Close like they will be in the far future but for now this is a pretty good start | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rileyslibrary · 9 months

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pretty pretty please 🩶

imagine ghost is forced to speak at a school’s career fair because he’s out on medical, and reader gets sent with him to chaperone. (i.e. make sure he doesn’t scare any kids to 💀. and also maybe to feed him some slightly manipulative praises so he stays in a good mood lmao)

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You’re both standing in the principal’s office. The school was kind enough to offer you a private room since kids are a little rowdy today, and Ghost isn’t very fond of tiny hands tagging at his uniform and asking him “how many people he has killed”.

You’re holding two balaclavas; one is black, while the other is a deep shade of army green.

“It’s either this one or that one.” You say while raising both to his eye level.

He pushes your hands down and points to his skull mask. “No.” He states. “I’ll stick with the one I’m wearing.”

You frustratedly shake the balaclavas to your sides. “Come on, Lieutenant,” you plead, “you’ll scare the kids.”

“Have you seen kids these days?” he asks, raising his hands. “These fuckers are not afraid of anything!”

“Oh god,” You wince and toss the balaclavas on the principal’s desk. You shake your index finger at his face like a teacher disciplining a misbehaving student. “Don’t you dare to swear in front of them!”

“Have you heard, kids—”

“—these days.” You cut him off with a flick of the wrist. “Yes, but there’s no need to reinforce bad behaviour.”

He lets out a long exhale and places his hands on his waist. He begins pacing around the principal’s office, swearing under his breath. You’re trying to figure out whether he needs to let it all out before his big speech or if he’s cursing the moment he has agreed to do this.

He pauses in front of a painting hanging next to a window overlooking the school’s playground. He slouches and places one hand on his lower back, rubbing his injury.

You approach him from behind and gently grasp his forearm.

“Hey,” you whisper, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he replies sternly. “Never mind.”

“Are you in pain? Please talk to me.”

“I’m not in pain!” He protests. “In fact, I wasn’t in pain to begin with, when the medics decided that I was,” he makes air quotes with his fingers, “temporarily unfit for duty.”

You place a palm on his lower back and begin rubbing it. He relaxes at your touch and puts one hand on the wall to support his weight.

“You talk about not reinforcing bad behaviour,” he murmurs, “but I’m not the best role model either.”

“Bullshit!” You scowl.

“Seriously,” he insists, “I highly doubt I’d be here talking to kids about their future if I hadn’t been injured.”

He’s correct, but he doesn’t need to know that, especially now, as you wait to enter a classroom full of kids. Any other team member would be far more qualified for this role. Gaz is such a cool guy that most kids would deem him a god. Price feels like the father you wish you had when he talks, and Soap can adapt to anyone he speaks to. Even you would be a better fit for this year’s career fair. But, Ghost? No, not at all.

“Come on, Simon,” you say as you continue rubbing his back. “It’s less about ‘being a role model’ and more about relating to them.”

“How am I supposed to relate to them?” He wonders, “My childhood was nothing like theirs.”

“How do you know?”

He looks at you and motions towards the window. “Look at them,” he says, “they’re full of life.”

“Not all of them are like that, Ghost; some are putting on a show.” You explain, and he turns to look at you again. “They look all jolly, but they might struggle at home or school. Worse, they can’t admit what’s happening behind closed doors because they’re either ordered to remain silent or not understand it themselves.”

He huffs and shakes his head. “Now I can relate to that.” He murmurs.

“See? You need to spot these kids and indirectly talk to them.”

“Spot?” He asks. “How do I spot them?”

“You mean to tell me you’re trained to spot targets from miles away but can’t see when a child suffers in silence?” You ask back. “Plus, it takes one to know one.”

He nods. “And what should I communicate to these kids?” He asks. “How do I help them?”

“By showing them that there’s something better waiting for them out there.”

“Don’t be naive, Y/N. How is what we do better than what they’re going through right now?”

“It’s not about the military, Simon.” You elaborate. “It’s about giving them another chance. They deserve to know there are options other than turning into their drug-addicted mother or alcoholic father.” You lean forward so he can meet your gaze. “Someone gave you a second chance, right?”

He closes his eyes and ponders your words. You tilt your head at him, trying to predict what he’ll say next so you can respond quickly.

But he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he straightens up and takes a deep breath. “You know,” he begins, “I gave one of those speeches to a school a few years ago.”

“Oh!” You cheer and pat him on the back twice. “Did you, now?”

“Lysychansk, Ukraine.” He recalls, “I was being held hostage with a bunch of kids.”

“Tell me more about it,” you say, sitting on the principal’s desk and playing with a pink highlighter. He begins narrating his story, and you can tell he’s becoming more confident as he realises he’s spoken to children before, albeit in a very different context, but who cares? What matters is that he is becoming more at ease with his “previous experience.”

You, in turn, try to give him your full attention, but now that his doubts have subsided, your primary concern is that mask of his. He needs to take it off.

“See? You’re far more experienced than any of us!” you shout. “And in that setting? My god! None of us would have been able to do such a thing!”

He chuckles and looks proudly out the window at the children playing in the school’s playground. He seems to be looking forward to it now.

“Hey, um, sir?”

He shifts his focus to you.

“Your mask, sir; It’s dirty,” you say as you point to his cheek.

He puts his hands on his mask. “Where?” He yells.

“It’s right….” You get up from the desk and take a step closer to him, inspecting his mask. You raise the marker and draw a bright pink line across his cheek, “...there.”

He immediately places his hand on his cheek, looks at the highlighter in your hand, and then back at you.

“You... motherfucker...” he murmurs.

You move away from him and stand behind the desk.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t let you go out with that mask on; the parents will be furious.” You point to the balaclavas on the principal’s desk. “You do, however, have two other options! Take your pick, and I’ll see you in class in 5 minutes!” And with that, you rush out of the principal’s office and into the school’s corridor.

You enter the classroom and greet the kids with a smile, trying to hide your nervousness. Walking towards the back where the parents are seated, your mind starts racing; Is he trying to choose a mask, or is he cleaning up your mess? What if he’s so furious that he doesn’t show up, leaving you to give the speech? Worse, what if he enters the classroom and takes his anger out on you?

But, the door opens, and Ghost walks in. Your eyes widen, and your jaw drops. He’s not wearing any mask. Not the black one, not the green one, not the skull—with the pink streak—mask on. Nothing.

You observe him moving around; despite his lack of disguise, he maintains his composure. He greets everyone in the room, smiles, waves back at the kids and stands next to the teacher. You let out a relieved exhale through pierced lips. This is going well, thank god.

As the teacher introduces Ghost to the class, you turn to give him a thumbs up, and his eyes lock with yours. There’s a faint smirk playing on his lips, and your heart skips a beat as he silently mouths something in your direction: “You’ll pay for this.”

———————————————————————

A/N: YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS, ANON! I was forcing myself to take a break from writing, only to be slapped by an inspiration wave. Hope you liked it, though; I had fun making it.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley fic #simon ghost riley fanfiction #cod ghost #ghost cod mwii #ghost cod mw2 #ghost cod

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cheesiedomino · 2 months

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RentABoyfriend.com ꙳ ੭ * ‧

synopsis: you’re tired of being single so you to take an unusual route in helping with that— but what happens when you start catching real romantic feelings for your rental boyfriend?

genre: seo changbin x fem!reader | fake relationship/dating au wc: 5.1k tags/warnings: fluff, v minor angst, mild cursing, (kinda) nerdy changbin, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol usage, just overall very cute story dw <33

[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]

“I have a date tomorrow guys.”

Everyone’s head instantly lifts up from their phones at this sudden announcement, collectively drawing their attention at you. You weren’t expecting all of them to gasp and swap such looks of genuine confusion. It’s starting to make you think maybe this situation was a lot more serious than you’ve bargained it out to be.

You couldn’t fathom it either honestly, the realization of you going out with someone probably won’t settle in until you’re physically on the date. Based on their initial responses though, you might regret everything you’re about to say, but it’s far too late to retract any of your statements now.

“No way.. with who??” Danielle is the first out of everyone to ask.

Taehyung chimes in as well, “Yeah, who’s the lucky person? They’ve gotta be something seriously special to be talking to you.”

Well, you suppose you could put it that way.

You already have a preconceived notion of what they’re going to think of this “idea”. Mentally preparing yourself to receive a flood of questions and critique from your close friends.

“Actually… I rented him. For the week.”

Now they’re all looking at you like you’ve officially lost it. The room got scarily quiet, no one wanted to be the first to speak. You should’ve anticipated on their reactions being like this, it isn’t everyday someone just openly admits to buying a partner online. Nowadays there’s a lucrative market for just about anything, when you stumbled upon an ad for this service called ‘RentABoyfriend.com’ you didn’t think much of it. You laughed the concept off at first, thinking how lonely people must be to buy someone else’s time.

But the ads kept popping up, they wouldn’t stop showing in almost every YouTube video you were watching— even one of your favorite YouTubers promoted them before! So one day you finally decided to check this website out, you wanted to see what the hype’s all about so you signed up just for shits and giggles. You weren’t expecting to actually be somewhat interested in trying this thing out, but after going through a couple different profiles and reading hundreds of positive reviews you were practically sold.

“You rented out a boyfriend..? Seriously ___? I mean, I’m not judging but you’re a gorgeous girl you can easily get a boyfriend without paying for someone’s companionship, I don’t see why you need to rent one.” Mark bluntly expressed his opinion, he was probably the most outspoken out of all of you guys.

Taehyung and Danielle both agreed in unison, it’s practically 3 against 1 at this point. You knew you should’ve waited to tell them but you weren’t anticipating on them being this judgmental about it. You were hoping for a little more support, as they’re all way more experienced than you in the dating scene and could lend some helpful advice about your first date, ever.

See, the thing is you’ve never tried dating before so you wouldn’t know the first thing about it or what to expect from your future partner. You’ve never had a boyfriend, let alone held hands or kissed someone of the opposite sex. Being in your twenties it’s kind of embarrassing to say you’ve never done those things, but you thought what better way to try it out than renting a full-on experience that can give you just that? Well minus the kissing part, but you can make it work.

You were skeptical of doing this whole ‘rent-a-boyfriend’ thing at first because you didn’t think there’d be anyone you’d find suitable enough. A big part of the reason that you’re still single is because you’re extremely picky, you want to date a guy who’s so perfect that he must’ve came straight out of an indie romance film. Your friends would tease you for having such unrealistic standards when it came to dating but you were the all-or-nothing type, you’ll be single with fifty cats before you settle for less. Renting a boyfriend is definitely an unconventional idea of easing into dating but you thought it might be worth a try anyway.

What’s the worse that could happen?

( 1 day earlier )

Hovering your cursor over the bold red text of the website, you read over the main rules before going on to select the person you want for your date.

‘The rules are simple:

You are allowed to see only ONE person at a time, if you want to switch boyfriends you’ll have to pay a $50 fee.

MUST be over 18 to rent a boyfriend, we have implemented an age verification system before the date as we do not tolerate anyone under this age to use our services.

NO kissing, or sexual intimacy allowed. If this is found out later on by our agency we will terminate your contract and ban you from using our services in the future.

Remember to have fun !! ^_^ Our services are great for people who are new to dating or have never been in a relationship. We provide the ~ultimate~ boyfriend experience to all our clients. Customer satisfaction is 100% guaranteed ! (NO REFUNDS)’

Well jeez… they seemed a bit strict but you can deal with those rules and restrictions for the most part.

After hours of skimming through hundreds of profiles, you have a hard time choosing which you like most. Did you want an artsy, shy kind of guy? The tattooed, bad boy aesthetic type? You really couldn’t pick one until you stumble upon a particular profile that catches your eye almost immediately.

SEO CHANGBIN | 168 CM | PART-TIME LIFEGUARD | 24 | *POPULAR ↝

5 Facts About Me: I’ve traveled to over 50+ different countries and counting (ask me which my favorites are), I can speak 4 languages (working on my fifth), love to sing and used to have a rap trio with my buddies from college, I can & will easily lift you up ;) also have a secret talent for cooking, there’s nothing I can’t do!

Why Choose Me? First of all, why not choose me? I’m the best candidate for whatever kind of date you need, something casual, social gatherings, weddings, you name it! I’m very social and can make most people laugh (unless they’re the literal Grinch reincarnated), I’m able to get along well with anyone and just love to have a good time. I hope we can get to know each other and make great memories in the future :)

Going through his pictures you couldn’t believe someone was capable of being this humanely attractive. Don’t even get started on those impeccable muscles either… He really had to sport them in every other one of his photos, wearing the tightest shirts to show the outline of his insanely sculpted frame. You might have just been mesmerized from his godlike visuals alone. They even had a Valentine’s Day deluxe package that comes with seven dates in total for half the price, which they specified was for a limited time only.

$600 later you’ve got a full week of dates lined up with the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in all your years of living. You should’ve definitely went shopping before considering all this because now you actually have a reason to get dolled up for someone.

You were so nervous about going on this date you almost cancelled last minute out of fear. Typing out several different elaborate paragraphs to Changbin on why you couldn’t make it. You didn’t have his real phone number, it was all through an app facilitated by the rental company that was included in the package. Even though you were feeling overwhelmed and practically shaking with anxiety about meeting up with a guy, you still forced yourself to go anyway. You didn’t just dish out all that money just to not show up and waste his time on top of all that.

Your rental boyfriend texted you the location to meet at, it was near a train station so you both could see each other out in a public open space. The outfit you wore was fairly simple, a black mini skirt with warm tights underneath and a cropped turtleneck sweater. You accessorized the look with some dainty jewelry, a thin scarf, and knee high boots to pull everything together. It wasn’t something you usually wore but you had certain clothes you saved for a special occasion like this.

Upon your arrival, you notice him standing near a vending machine and waves over at you with the biggest smile plastered on his face. You awkwardly wave back, giving a soft smile as you slowly walk up to him. He looks even better in person, you don’t even feel adequate enough to be in such a gorgeous man’s presence. No wonder he’s so popular on the site, he’s practically unreal.

“Hi, you must be ___. It’s so nice to finally meet you, might I add you look really beautiful today, I think you’re making my heart race just by looking at you. Happy Valentine’s Day!” Changbin introduces himself, buttering you up with some sweet compliments before handing you the most insane bouquet of roses you’ve ever seen.

You take the flowers and almost stumble backwards from how heavy they were, “Wow, thank you!” Changbin prevents you from falling, quickly coming up behind you to get your balance back.

“Careful honey, can’t have you injured on our first date!” He voices with concern, “I hope you love the idea I came up with, I’ve only been to this place once before but I’m sure it’s still as fun as I remember it, let’s go!” Eagerly grabbing your hand to begin the journey, he turns around again to examine your body language.

“You seem a little tense babe? Do you need a massage?” He asks in a concerned tone again, this is all really beginning to freak you out. You know this is what you signed up for but this was all starting to feel a bit too personal, all the nicknames and sweet talk he’s giving is just something you aren’t used to.

“Uh, no! It’s o-okay.” You shook your head, denying anything suspicious going on. Truth be told you were barely able to contain your composure right now.

Changbin keeps on insisting, “The massage is included in the package so you don’t have to worry about getting charged extra.”

“N-no it’s okay, really. I’m just nervous that’s all, sorry I just don’t meet up with guys…” you shyly admit, finding it hard to look him in the eye.

He nods in understanding, “No need to be nervous with me sweetheart. I’m here to make you feel as comfortable as possible.” The smile he flashes at you instantly makes you warm on the inside, he seems like a genuine, caring person. You think things might go well for you after all.

The rest of the night was full of only good vibes and laughter by the end of it all. Changbin took you to an adult arcade that had old video games like Pac-Man, Super Mario, and Space Invaders, the other side was a bar where people could sit, drink, and socialize. He bought all your drinks that night, let you use up most of his tokens and overall had the most fun you could’ve ever had with someone. He was so easygoing but also knew when to act super caring and would be all lovey dovey with you. He was gentle, nurturing, and could have conversations about anything. You loved that he’d randomly drop some interesting fact you never knew about, or talked about a certain niche topic that he’d go on multiple rants over. It didn’t feel like you were renting someone out to date you, it felt natural— like you’ve known him for longer than a couple hours. Changbin walked you home and held your hand the entire time, along with the flowers he provided a teddy bear and a heart shaped box of chocolates. If that didn’t scream boyfriend goals then you don’t know what does.

The next day you wake up to Changbin blowing your phone up this morning. You had over 26 messages from him, which was pretty excessive in your humble opinion. The first thing he said was good morning then he goes on to express how fun yesterday was and he can’t wait to do it again. He even sent a couple mirror selfies of him at the gym, ‘conceited much?’ You thought. But then again, if you were Seo Changbin you’d probably be full of yourself too.

For today’s date you wore a pretty red sundress that made your skin glow in the sunlight. It’ll definitely get him to compliment you even more— which you secretly love when he does. Changbin calls you before he heads out to the date, letting you know how excited he is to see you again. You couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot on the train as you made your way to the destination, thinking about what he’s planned for you two next. This time you’ll be meeting up at a park but you still have no clue what you’re doing.

Changbin texts you where exactly he is in the park, it was pretty huge so it took you a while to get to him. As you get closer you see him sitting on a large blanket by the lake, on top of it were a bunch of different foods and snacks scattered all around that came out of a huge picnic basket. You were speed walking at this point trying to get to him. His arms opened out for a hug and you lean right into him, what you didn’t expect was for him to suddenly stand up and lift you in his arms to swing around you like a doll.

“Put me down I’m scared of heights!” You squeal out in fear of being too high up in the air. Maybe you really should’ve taken the bio on his profile more seriously when he mentioned certain things.

Finally putting you down after minutes go by of you protesting, Changbin sits you back onto the blanket. He brought an assortment of breads, cheese, fruits, lemonade that he made himself and a couple seltzers. You’ve never seen anyone put such time and effort into a date before, even being here with him is like living in a daydream. He was definitely succeeding in making you feel comfortable, which is something you never thought was possible with men. He actually took his time getting to know you and didn’t sound arrogant whenever he talked about himself, Changbin was so different than other guys who’ve tried hitting on you in the past. He was actually respectful, intelligent, and could easily carry a conversation without long, awkward pauses.

He was literally everything you’re looking for in a guy. But you’ll be seeing him for this week only then it’s bye bye forever. That revelation makes you a little upset, but you try pushing those thoughts in the back of your mind. It’s irrelevant and unnecessary to think about. Yet you can’t help but wonder about certain things though, wanting to know more about his job and what it’s like on a daily basis for him.

“Can I ask you something? I need you to answer it honestly.” You say out of nowhere, hoping that didn’t come out as weird as you thought.

Changbin nods, “of course, shoot.”

“How many clients do you usually get?”

This question definitely catches him off guard, he’s never really been asked this before and he’s debating on if he should as it might be a breach of privacy.

“I don’t think I can answer that, sorry.” He responds in the nicest way possible, but deep down he wants to know why you’d want to know how many other people he sees a day.

You were going to push him a bit more to try and get an answer but you decide to let it go and just enjoy the rest of the picnic. You didn’t want to bring the mood down with your odd questions and/or end up making him feel so uncomfortable that he won’t want to see you anymore. It was definitely something you shouldn’t have asked but you were curious to know anyway. Overall besides that small incident, you had another wonderful time with Changbin and couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come any faster.

Changbin had a foolproof way of getting you to blush like a giddy high school teen whenever he texted you. He’d always refer to you as ‘pretty girl’ or ‘princess’ which gave you insane amount of butterflies. You loved how clingy he could get and would double text when you don’t reply fast enough, always needing constant attention from you which you never minded giving.

He texted you at around three in the afternoon, proposing his next plan for today’s date.

‘Let’s go out for drinks tonight, it’s all on me ;)’

You liked his message, replying that you’ll be there and put a series of hearts at the end. Speaking of hearts, yours is fluttering at high altitudes from the way you can’t stop thinking about your “boyfriend” Changbin. This has been better than anything you could’ve expected, you never want this week to come to an end. It’s only been three days but you’ve begun to grow feelings for him, they weren’t too strong just yet but they were most definitely there. You couldn’t let that halt you from having a good time tonight, you’ll have to accept it soon enough he’s not your actual boyfriend. He’s doing this because you paid him to, if it wasn’t for your money he wouldn’t be here right now.

‘This relationship is purely transactional’ you unfortunately keep reminding yourself of the reality you’re in. Psyching yourself out of this sudden somber mood that’s consuming you, distracting your pessimism by raiding your closet for some cute clothes to wear tonight’s date. After what seemed like hours of tearing your entire room apart, you decide to settle on this sparkly black mini tube dress, pairing it with a leather jacket and more platform shoes because you’re obsessed with feeling tall. Once it’s 7 PM you head out to the bar you’re seeing Changbin at, he was already waiting for you inside the place. Eyes instantly lighting up when he sees you coming towards him, just like he always does he motions for a hug, pulling you in tightly like he hasn’t seen you in years.

His hugs felt so cozy, like sitting in front of the fireplace on a crisp, snowy winter’s evening. You never wanted to escape the warmth of his arms, it was one of those forms of physical touch that felt so overly personal to you. The thought of him hugging someone the same way he hugs you slightly enrages something in your spirit but again, it isn’t your place to get genuinely upset over him doing his job. You’re not entitled to him exclusively, but you feel like if you keep this up feelings will only continue to develop. This wasn’t something you considered when going into this and now you feel like you’ve just made a huge mistake.

“You okay babe?” Changbin notices you acting a bit strange, choosing not to pursue it after telling him you’re fine. He knows something’s wrong but doesn’t want to mess up the flow of the date, instead he orders a drink for the both of you and switches on to a lighter subject. “Let’s go shopping tomorrow at that new centre that just opened last week. I need to buy some new AirPods, I accidentally lost one of them in a taxi..”

“Sure,” you nod at his suggestion, in desperate need of some new clothes anyway. “Sorry about your AirPods, that sucks!”

He takes a sip of his bubbly drink that’s now on the table, “Eh, it’s okay this is probably the fourth time this has happened so far.” This has pretty much become a regular occurrence for him by now.

As the date progresses, things continue getting better. You’re both laughing, engaging in much deeper conversation than ever before. You definitely had more than enough alcohol in your system by now, feeling congested and claustrophobic as more people came into the bar. Changbin takes note of your discomfort and asks if you want to get some fresh air outside, you wasted absolutely no time to agree.

While you two were outside continuing your chat about some wild conspiracy he read about online, Changbin’s attention was soon drawn to a different building nearby. Gazing up in confusion at his sudden outburst of excitement, you wonder where he could be leading you next.

“Noraebang!” He shouts loud enough anyone miles away could’ve heard that, he’s now grabbing your hand to frantically drag you along with him.

You were never one to carry a tune but Changbin was actually very good at karaoke and singing in general, he had such a lovely voice. You could seriously listen to him sing all night— which you basically did since you kept begging for an encore until it hit 4 am. That’s when you both decided to finally call it a night, you wanted to pay for the Uber since he’s paid for all the drinks and every other expenses for today. You felt bad because you were the one renting him to be your boyfriend yet he’s constantly shelling out money left and right. He still insisted on paying and ultimately won the whole debacle, making you swallow your pride and get into the Uber with him. Changbin’s definitely not just someone you’re going to forget about after this week is over. You dread the day this all comes to an end, wishing there was a way to relive these moments again and again.

“I’m a little under the weather today, sorry I can’t make it Binnie.” Your voice is hoarse from coughing and unbearable throat pain. You’ve already consumed half a bag of cough drops, throat lozenges, and random cold medicine you’ve found in your cabinets.

He sounds mildly disappointed, but springs back up with a new proposal, “I can come over and bring some soup if you’d like!”

You appreciate his gesture but still refuse, you know he’s only saying all this because he has to, not because he wants to. “N-no you don’t have to, I’m sure you can go see other clients today. One less person to worry about right?”

The call went silent for a minute, he wasn’t quite sure how to respond to such a deprecating comment.

“I don’t want to see other clients, I want to see you ___.” He sighs, unwilling to give up so easily, “I’ll be at your place soon, m’kay?” He hangs up before you could even respond or say no again.

You had no choice but to wait for Changbin to show up now. Before you got sick, the last two dates you went on were debatably the best so far. You had gone out shopping together, accidentally wearing almost the same kind of outfit. Changbin was wearing a white graphic tee with blue baggy jeans and you wore something practically identical. The two of you looked like a real, official couple and people would stare as you walked hand in hand, it really did seem like the perfect relationship on the outside.

You got even closer when he came over the following day, resulting in you two cuddling while watching movies and baking cookies. He’s expressed that he’s never been to another client’s home before but it wasn’t “technically” against any rules. The more you kept hanging out together, the harder it was coming to terms with the fact you’re actually falling for Changbin. He made every experience with you more exciting than the last, which he did exactly that night. When the cookies were done you fed a piece to him, making little airplane sounds as you do it, he eagerly takes a bite of the chewy treat and compliments both your efforts.

“These taste way better than I thought, oh my god they literally melt in your mouth. Try it!” He takes another cookie from the tray and feeds it to you this time.

There was something so overly domestic about that moment you couldn’t shake the feelings of wanting to kiss him right then and there. But you can’t. If you did such a thing you’d never be allowed to see him again, plus you don’t want to be known as that one creepy client who just couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. As you were cuddling on the couch though, things may have taken a turn for the better… or worse?

Changbin would “yawn” at the movie and subtly wrap his arm around you, he’d subconsciously pull you in closer and it didn’t make it any better that you were under the same blanket. You weren’t complaining at any of this though, you were pretty much in heaven. It took everything in you not to look up and stare, gluing your eyes to the movie that was displayed on the TV. But as the night progressed you were practically snuggling up with him like he was your real boyfriend. The way he’d run his fingers gently down your back, soothing you in a way that could lull you asleep. His touch was the most relaxing thing ever, you were so calm with him and loved how he brought a side of you that’s never been shown. After this encounter you can no longer deny the way you feel— you are officially falling deeply in love your rental boyfriend, Seo Changbin.

The sound of your doorbell ringing alarms you of a new visitor, who was none other than your “boyfriend” waiting patiently outside the door for you. You feel and look like death itself, coming downstairs to answer the door still in your PJ’s and hair a disheveled mess. Every five seconds was interrupted with you coughing your lungs out, barely able to speak above a whisper. Changbin looks thrilled as ever to see you, even when you clearly don’t look your best he’s still coming up to hug you tightly. His hugs are always blocking off your airways from the way his muscles squeeze you, it’s even worse when you’re sick— practically gasping for air.

“Sorry babyy, I just missed you so much. I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day and soon as you said you’re sick I dropped everything to go make you this soup. It’s a specialty I make whenever my friends are sick, the perfect remedy to cure my princess.” He goes into your kitchen to heat up the soup in your microwave, making you wait patiently on the couch as you’re wrapped up in multiple blankets.

Your body feels like it’s -2 degrees, you were freezing. The crazy thing is your thermostat was set to 80 degrees, it was definitely you that was the problem. He propped your feet up on the table, rested a tray in your lap and set the bowl of soup on top. Brushing a couple strands of hair out your face he looks at you intently, examining your symptoms as if he’s a doctor.

“It’ll be okay soon love, I’m here to nurse you back to health again. Can’t see my pretty baby sick like this, makes me all sad.” He pouts, giving you a soft head pat like you’re a delicate kitten.

He takes a spoonful of the hot soup, slightly blowing on it before telling you to open up so you can eat. You don’t know what’s gotten into you but you feel like he’s gone too far with all this. It’s not fair for you to continue on if it’s just become torture now. He’s practically dangling in your face that you’ll never have a partner as perfect as him in your life.

“I- I can’t do this anymore Changbin..” you say lowly, refusing to eat the soup he made.

“What do you mean? I’m just feeding you soup, it’s my duty as your boyfriend to-”

“This isn’t real… none of it is. I’m stupid for even doing this but I was lonely.. I’m sorry but I’d prefer something that isn’t temporary.” You cut him off to express your pent up frustrations, ready to be let down and rejected by him as gently as possible.

“Then let’s make it real,” he proposes without any hesitation, “honestly I stopped faking it around our third date, it was all me after that. I never said anything because well… this is my job and I’ve never fallen for a client before so this is still all very new to me..”

You’d be screaming right now if you weren’t sick, instead you’re internally freaking out at this confession, it feels like your hearts doing cartwheels and somersaults.

“Seriously?” Eyes widening as you look at him, suddenly your body heat rises and you know it’s not because of the soup or the layers of blankets that’s covering you.

He nods, “I thought it was kinda obvious when we kissed yesterday..”

Oh yeah… you forgot that did happen. You thought it was another fever dream you might’ve just made up in your head. You shared your first kiss with someone you deemed so special and important to you, someone you never would’ve guessed could come into your life and shift the entirety of your world like magic. There was no one else in existence you wanted more than Changbin.

“Doesn’t that mean you’ll have to quit your job? I don’t want to be the reason you stop making such good income.. I’ll feel so bad.” You knew deep down you didn’t feel that badly about him quitting to date you instead. It was just the thought of him leaving something he’s been doing for years behind all for some girl he’s known for simply a week.

He shrugs at your comment, “I’ll be just fine, I was planning on finding a new job soon anyway. It gets kinda old after a while, I felt like I was on autopilot most of the time. You were able to get me to open up and show my true self, I could never thank you enough for that ___.” Changbin couldn’t resist the urge to plant a kiss to your forehead.

After everything that’s been said and done. What you’ve come to understand is that love is learned, a development that takes time to grow and blossom into something extraordinary. Just like learning a new language or a musical instrument, we learn love from society and cultures we’re raised in, it’s a beautiful thing once we know how to cherish it. Your newfound romance with Changbin is something you’ll learn to cherish forever and ever.

[End <3].

#skz fluff #skz x reader #changbin fluff #seo changbin fluff #stray kids imagines #skz drabbles #changbin x reader #changbin skz #changbin x female reader #seo changbin x reader #stray kids fluff #changbin scenarios #changbin drabbles #changbin imagines #skz au #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids drabbles #skz imagines

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transmascissues · 2 months

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i absolutely cannot believe people are trying to start discourse about whether nex benedict was actually nonbinary / whether it was okay for him to describe himself as nonbinary to some people if he didn’t actually identify that way as if he isn’t literally DEAD because he was KILLED. this is a MURDERED CHILD and these monsters are so busy getting mad at the possibility that he might have been a trans boy who described himself as nonbinary to his family because that was easier for them to take that they’re turning a CHILD who was MURDERED into fucking discourse. even when we die at the hands of cis people’s violence, our own community finds a way to make us the villains of the story.

and all of this bullshit on top of the ways that cis people are already trying to say our grief over his death is unjustified. all of this on top of people claiming he wasn’t murdered and speculating on other causes of death (i literally saw someone say he “clearly went home and took the coward’s way out” and i have never been more disgusted) or claiming that he started the fight as if any action on his part could’ve been enough to justify his death. i am haunted by the sound of his father screaming that his child was not filth because that is what people have been saying about this poor kid, that’s how cruelly his memory is being treated, and even the trans community can’t get it’s shit together enough to look past the stupid discourse and see the tragedy in front of us. did you all forget that it was supposed to be up to us to grieve him in the way he deserves when the rest of the world fails to care if people like him live or die? did you all forget that this child was our sibling, the future of our community, a life that we should have had the chance to know and treasure while he was still here but that we now have a responsibility to hold close to our hearts in his absence? nex’s life was precious and it was ended far too soon and if you truly believe that anything is more important than mourning his life and fighting for a world where no more trans people have to meet such an awful fate, you’re a traitor to this community and you do not deserve the place you occupy within it.

i’m so tired. i can’t even imagine how tired his family must be, to see the public treat the child they’re grieving so horribly, to see the world fail their baby again. leave him alone. he was already robbed of peace in life; the least you can do is let him finally have it in death.

#as a trans man whose family still uses they/them and neutral terms for me and would describe me as nonbinary #because that was how i initially came out to them and me being a man is a much bigger hurdle than i have the energy to help them get over #it’s SO deeply disturbing to know that if my life ended in violence #my own community would be more concerned with how my family referred to me in death than with the fact that i was killed #how fucking dare you turn this poor child’s existence into discourse fodder when they aren’t even here to defend themselves #when you only even know who he is in the first place because he was killed #tw transphobic violence #nex benedict #tbh it feels wrong to even add my usual tags to this but i need people to see it so. here we go #transandrophobia #transandromisia #transmisandry #virilmisia #virilphobia #anti transmasculinity #transmascphobia #exorsexism #trans men #transmascs

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sytoran · 6 months

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Could I request a Natasha x reader where R and Nat are driving home from a party but their car breaks down so they call someone to come help them fix it and while they’re waiting they fuck outside on the back of the car…strap on pls

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟎𝟏𝟎 — 𝐏𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐄𝐗

kinktober day 010 | milf!natasha x fem!mechanic!reader

natasha's had a completely shit day, and the last straw is when her car breaks down on the way home. the unbelievably sexy mechanic who shows up to fix her car makes it an unforgettable night.

note. i might've changed the plot so R is the mechanic. trust me on that decision.

cont. strap-on use, daddy kink, horniness, hot mechanic stuff

word count. 3435 (yall are getting fed)

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In her weathered thirties, Natasha had retired as an Avenger and chose a life that had always been nothing more than a distant dream.

By adopting two beautiful children and becoming a mother, it was almost like she was flipping off the Red Room for what they had done to her. It was an act of justice, a long sought-after victory, throwing away her past but embracing the lessons it had taught her.

However, despite how much the future she carved for herself had changed, one thing hadn’t — and that was the people who had been by her side throughout her journey to normalcy.

Kate, that human embodiment of a golden retriever, was all about ‘bringing the Avengers together, old and new’, and ‘forging stronger bonds in the pursuit of justice’. Hence came the monthly parties that involved the wealth of Bishop Security, too much alcohol, and one too many bad decisions.

For Natasha, the party had spun out of control like a series of unfortunate events: From the raspberry martini Thor had spilled on her, to the ripped dress from a stupid dare from Rocket to climb the fence, and the incredibly awkward seven minutes in heaven with Bruce.

Right now, the ex-Avenger wanted nothing more than to dive under the warm blankets and close her eyes and shut the world out. Go home to her two bundles of joy. Be engulfed in the warmth of comfort and release. Maybe even let Liho sleep on the bed for once.

She needs to get back home a little faster. Natasha accelerates.

Her eyes are on the road, gripping the steering wheel with a steely frown. The road is dark, the lamps are flickering. There’s a thought lingering in the back of her mind, like an itch that simply wouldn’t go away.

It was embarrassing to admit, but Natasha had done far worse: She was unarguably sexually frustrated. After saving the universe and transitioning into a life of motherhood, she hardly had any time to alleviate her stress in that kind of way.

Today was one of those days, then, where she would once again have to retreat into the confines of her shower and spend a little longer than she should. Or perhaps, dive under the sheets and reach into her bedside table for that plastic purple toy.

Natasha steps on the pedal a little harder. She accelerates again – the engine splutters.

"Fuck, shit, don't do this to me now," she growls, angrily slapping her steering wheel while a frown creases her eyebrows.

It only takes the car three more streetlamps to absolutely die out on her, coming to a screeching halt, in the dead of the night, in the middle of nowhere. Comically, the sound of something fusing inside her engine follows right after.

Natasha lets the groan of frustration fall freely, forehead hitting the centre of the steering wheel. The resounding sound of the car honking echoes in the emptiness of the place, like a mockery of Natasha’s misfortune.

She climbs out of the car reluctantly, slowly lifting the bonnet open and staring blankly at the mechanical parts before her.

Natasha was a woman of many capabilities, those of which included being able to assassinate three grown men with a pencil, speak fifteen languages fluently, raise two kids with an attitude more stubborn than hers, save the fucking world, in fact, but fixing cars was not one of them.

Gradually, the car parts in the engine began to look more and more like ancient hieroglyphs that Natasha would spend a lifetime trying to decipher.

She pulls out her cell phone to call someone for assistance, before realizing that basically all of her friends were likely piss-drunk at that stupid party, and would never pick up. (Okay, she also didn’t have a social life other than her ex-comrades in battle, but could you really blame Natasha?)

As the redhead closed her eyes, irritation danced in the darkness of her vision, flickering in specks of white and then burning red. Natasha resigns to her doomed fate.

Calling up the roadside assistance services would mean spending an insanely long amount of time waiting, then having her car towed to the auto-repair shop, henceforth allowing the mechanics there to actually fix up her car, and by the time she retreated into the warmth of her bedroom at home it would very much be far past midnight.

Pulling out her phone with a stately reluctance, Natasha searches up the nearest available mechanic services, dials in the designated number, and begins her wait for comfort and satisfaction.

***

If Natasha previously had any qualms or complaints about waiting for roadside assistance, her mouth was now sealed shut with lock and key. In fact, she would much rather let the mechanic that just arrived assist her in several other ways.

“Sorry for the wait, Ma’am, we were almost about to close shop,” you say, climbing out of the pickup truck then jumping down.

You flick your hair out of your eyes and send a bright smile to your last client of the day, seemingly oblivious to the effect you had on the woman. “I’m Y/N, happy to be at your service.”

Now, Natasha certainly had her own suspicions that she wasn’t entirely straight, but those queries had been confirmed within a good five seconds.

It was too cliche to be real, almost. Natasha swallows as her eyes rake over your tight-fitting white tank top that showed off the most stunning bodily anatomy she had ever seen, each muscle carved from a meticulous sculptor, dirtied cargo pants hanging loose to reveal the band of a pair of black boxers.

“Ma’am?” you repeat, lifting up a heavy toolbox with one hand, failing to notice that Natasha’s gaze is glued on to the flexed muscles of your right arm.

“O-oh,” the ex-Avenger mumbles in embarrassment – Oh, Yelena would cackle to see her like this – “Sorry, what was your question?”

You only tilt your head and give her a polite smile. “I was asking what seems to be the issue with your car.”

Natasha nods vigorously, then walks stiffly towards her car. Her clammy hands struggle to lift the bonnet for a moment, and in a second you’re next to her, single-handedly lifting the cover with a thoughtful smile.

Natasha feels the heat rush to her cheeks and she looks away quickly. She was acting like a lovesick high school girl, for God’s sakes. Get it together, she chides.

When she looks back up again, you have a wrench in hand, twirling it around. Natasha has her eyes glued to your tattoos and the way your fingers spin the tool.

“I’ll loosen this up a bit, see what we’re dealing with.” You say, fastening the wrench into place. Natasha barely has time to nod her acknowledgement before her breath gets stolen from her again.

The muscle of your forearm ripples like a satisfying wave when you jerk the wrench, and Natasha’s breath gets stolen away by the wind. She watches as your fingers expertly wrap around the tool, your other hand gripping the front of the car, and your next effort has Natasha getting wetter in places she shouldn’t.

“I think this part needs to be oiled,” you say, your even voice hauling Natasha out of her erotic fantasy. You look at your client curiously, innocently gesturing towards the toolbox next to her feet. “Would you be an angel and hand me the oiler?”

Angel.

Natasha’s heart races as she bends down to pick up your toolbox. (Okay, she definitely bends down a little too far, but she feels your eyes glued onto her ass, and she considers that a victory.) When she hands you the toolbox, your fingertips graze over her hand, and Natasha’s breath hitches a little too obviously.

By some holy deity’s work, you don’t comment or react to her squeak of surprise, and instead begin oiling up the engine of the car. Natasha flushes a dark red. Your grasp had been calloused, because of course it would be, experienced with handling cars and being rough—

The electricity that had run through her veins from that second of contact was comparable to Thor’s Mjolnir.

You have a little mishap when pouring the oil, the tube sliding in your grasp, and the car oil squirts from the nozzle and onto your front. You chuckle awkwardly, embarrassment tinging the tips of your ears.

Natasha thinks it’s the sweetest sound she’s ever heard, heart fluttering at your awkwardness. Once again, her libido catches up to her, and then Natasha’s eyeing your slick fingers (imagining it was a different type of slick), and the way your dampened shirt clung to your taut muscles.

Maybe you were doing it on purpose, too, facing Natasha as you lift up the hem of your shirt to squeeze out the oil. Her eyes feast on the hint of bare skin she can see, a defined V-line making itself known.

“You don’t mind me working like this, I suppose?” you ask, a grin on your face. “I may look filthy, but I promise I’m excellent with my hands.”

“Show me, then,” Natasha replies loftily, almost second-nature with how the one-sided smirk creeps on to her face. Her skill of seduction was something that was ingrained into her bloodstream.

When you lay down onto the under-car roller and shift underneath the car to begin fixing it up, Natasha’s gaze darkens several hues and she lets her eyes roam over your body again.

She couldn’t tear her eyes off if she tried. She wanted to rake her nails over your taut muscles, watch them flex and ripple under her touch, hook her fingers in the belt-loop of your pants and tug it down—

—to see the unmistakable bulge on a strap-on in your boxers. Natasha licks her lips, zeroing in on the tantalizing sight. It looked big, even while hidden under the confines of your pants. She would take you so good, down her throat or up her cunt, until either of you orgasmed.

Natasha gets lost in her thoughts, nearly drooling as she watched you work. Your tank top moved with every thrust of your arm into unscrewing a certain mechanical part, and the grease slid down the veins of your hands.

The redhead has to sink her teeth into her bottom lip when you spread your legs for a more comfortable position, to stop herself from moaning out load.

Natasha’s got it down bad, eyes once again on your bulge. Her panties are soaked, already, lewd thoughts flitting through her mind with every passing minute that you’re under there.

On the other hand, you were fighting a very different battle.

You weren’t stupid, no, not on any accounts. (Except for dating that one girlfriend who’d lit your auto-repair shop on fire when you broke up with her. But we don’t talk about past mistakes.) Right now, the woman you were attending to was none other than Natasha Romanoff.

Yes, the woman who had saved the universe. The woman who’d inspired you to say ‘fuck everyone else’ and chase your dreams. The woman on TV you’d spent more than a few nights thinking of, your hand in places you’d rather not specify.

More than that, you were quite sure that this woman, in a ripped dress that fucked your mind in ways it shouldn’t, wanted you to fuck her instead.

It was an uphill battle, your rationality versus your pathetic pretty-girl-want-to-fuck instinct. As you lay under Natasha’s car, working on the mechanical parts up there and getting grease all over your hands, you contemplated the reasons why logic was important.

Number One: Natasha Romanoff was an Avenger. If you pushed yourself onto her, she could very much knock you out before you could say ‘sorry’. As much as you prided yourself on your physique and brute force, you weren’t about to take on an ex-widow in a fight.

You look down for one second, as said woman steps a little closer to you, and you have to swallow to bite back an embarrassing sound. One of her hands was resting on your knee while you worked, and it took every cell of your existence not to start spasming under her touch.

Number Two: It was a violation of workplace guidelines. As much as the pay was shitty, you wouldn’t want to lose your job. You still had rent to pay, and you couldn’t keep hiding from your stick-in-the-ass landlord.

“Oh, that looks dirty,” Natasha comments, tone sultry as her hand creeps up higher on your leg. Your breath catches in your throat, grease staining your white shirt while your eyes quite nearly glaze over.

I can show you dirty, your brain unhelpfully supplies, and you shake your head in a futile attempt to clear your head.

Natasha, undetered, leans forward, chest grazing over your torso, the soft flesh of her breasts against your abdomen making your head spin.

Fuck, you just wanted to rip off her pretty dress and— Number Three: You were in public. Having sexual intercourse with your client right here and right now would likely end in a police report for vouyerism. Dingy apartment be gone, for you would be sleeping in a jail cell.

“M’kay, I’m done,” you announce, slapping the underside of the car as a sign of accomplishment. You purposefully slide out from under the car in one swift motion, allowing Natasha’s hand to graze over your muscled thigh.

Nothing could have prepared you for the sight that greeted you when you looked up, though.

There Natasha Romanoff leant over your body, one hand inches away from the bulge in your pants, the other tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. She was leaning forward, exposing a cleavage that hung right above your torso, dark eyes surveying you.

Fuck, dark couldn’t even begin to describe it. Natasha’s gaze was like an icy blast and molten lava all at the same time: Her pupils were severely dilated, a spark dancing within it. The deep colours of her eyes were like a kaleidoscope, pulling you in, entrapping you in a haze of lust.

It was entirely wanton, arousing, filthy. Her ruby-red lips curved into a vulture-like smirk, gaze trailing downwards to your body. Everywhere her eyes rested on lit a path of hellfire. Those sinful hands crept on to your bulge, splaying over your false cock as you exhale shakily.

Number Four: Natasha Romanoff was looking at you like you were a full banquet service, all five courses, free of charge, complimentary champagne included.

And honestly, was there really anything more important than that?

“Thanks for your help,” Natasha murmmurs, physically climbing onto you as you laid on the under-car roller. “Let me repay that kindness.”

You let out a strangled groan as Natasha pushes herself down onto you and kisses you, her hands sliding under your shirt to scrape at your abdomen.

Oh, finally.

“Fuck,” you gasp against her eager lips, hands flying to palm at her ass as you deepen the kiss. Your brain hasn’t quite caught up to yet, the only you were registering being the sweet mouth you were exploring and the intoxicating flowery scent of Natasha’s perfume.

Your hand cinches around Natasha’s neck like a vice-grip, your tongue invading the confines of her mouth, the rocking motions of your meeting mouths drawing long gasps and whines from Natasha.

Her hands, on the contrary, are relentless: From the sides of your face to your washboard abdomen, sharp nails marking you as if you’re hers.

Having relinquished your power for long enough, you grab handfuls of Natasha’s ass and lift her up; You get up, too, a mess of entangled limbs as you throw her over your shoulder, kicking away the roller and moving to the bed of your pickup truck.

Natasha’s left dripping at your display of effortless strength. You hoist the two of you up onto the pickup truck, paradoxically carefully laying her down, and you stall for a moment.

“We’re so gonna get caught,” Natasha whispers with a stupid grin on her face.

She looks up at you with a breathtaking smile, twilight reflecting off her eyes, dancing in the atmosphere that surrounded the two of you.

The pair of you were completely exposed to the midnight air, in the middle of nowhere, but if anyone were to drive past it would be blatantly obvious what was happening.

You smirk, tugging her dress off with an assured confidence. “Maybe,” you reason, thumbing at one of Natasha’s nipples so she arches off the surface with a breathy gasp. “Or maybe not,” you continue, a big hand sliding under Natasha’s lithe body to undo the clasp of her bra and toss it somewhere.

“Y/N!” Natasha squeaks, as your greedy hands massage the mounds of her breasts. “Did you throw my bra onto the road?”

You hum your approval cheekily, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses from the swell of her breasts and down to her soiled. “Yes, angel. I’ll pick it up later, bring it home with me to jerk off–”

“Oh my god—”

“Yeah, and I’ll— oh fuck, angel, your panties are fucking soaked. Not so innocent, hm?” You question with a dark smile, two fingers running over the outside of her undergarment, arousal sticking to your fingers.

You watch as the older woman before you flushes from head to toe. Strings of slick cling to your thick fingers, and you suck on them as Natasha moans lewdly.

“I’ll let you taste it later, don’t worry,” you add helpfully, shucking down your own pants and boxers. The strap-on springs out, and Natasha’s drooly lips open to push out a shaky breath of arousal.

“Daddy,” Natasha says, instinctually, at the sight of your gloried muscles and the ivory strap that hung between your legs like it was made to do so.

Your grip on Natasha’s hips bruise, the term nothing new to you but so entirely different when it came from Natasha fucking Romanoff. The sense of pride that washed over you was nothing compared to the carnal desire to fill her up and make her scream your name.

“Oh God!” Natasha wails out, fingernails digging into your forearms as you slide the head of your cock inside her. It wasn’t the longest, but it was girthy, and Natasha’s hole was stretched out as you pushed slowly.

“Not God,” you pant into Natasha’s ear, slapping her ass as she cries out loud. “Daddy, hm?”

“Yes!” Natasha moans, legs wrapping around your huge muscled back as you begin to thrust. Her hands try to interlock behind your back for support, but your shoulderblades are so wide that she can’t even fully wrap her hands around it, and that fact leaves her even hornier than before.

You’ve got Natahsa pinned to the ground under your body, pounding so hard that the whole truck shakes. The grease from your clothes goes all over, slick and sweat coating the two of you, pleasured cries and low grunts emanating from the pickup truck.

The squelching sounds of her pussy are absolutely filthy, as you pound into her spongy spot like your life depended on it.

“There, please!” Natasha wails, helplessly clinging on to your back as you bring her to a ferocious orgasm. Her legs kick under you, hook around the side of the truck as you jackhammer your hips into her pussy.

“Almost there already, angel?” You ask heatedly, mouth working on marking up her tits. One of your hands had both of Natasha’s wrist above her head, and the other was on her hips for support as you thrusted into her.

Your response comes in an earth-shattering orgasm.

“Daddy!” Natasha moans out, filthy and drenched with desire. Her pleasured cry is so loud that it scares a flock of birds out of a nearby tree, and you flinch violently at the sudden sound of nature’s rustling leaves, like you forgot you were in public.

Natasha breaks out into a laugh at the absurdity of the situation, then moans again when another wave of orgasmic pleasure washes over her. That causes you to join in on the laughter, your cock jostling inside Natasha. She whines again, and you pepper kisses over Natasha’s sweaty forehead with nothing short of amused affection.

And that’s how the two of you end up entangled on the back of your pickup truck like lovesick fools, a mesh of sweaty and slick bodies, sounds of pleasure and laughter scaring away any other creature that might disrupt Natasha’s sought-after comfort and satisfaction.

requests are NOT open... i just received this request all the way back in february, and so here it is haha..... im sorry to that one anon 😭 reblog to save a life xx

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jinjeriffic · 2 months

Text

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 5

Part 4

After collecting their bags from the library lockers Jazz led him down the hallway until she found a small, unlocked, empty classroom. The room was barren except for desks and a whiteboard. I guess they don’t bother locking it if there’s nothing worth stealing.

Jazz sat her messenger bag down on the teacher’s desk and pulled a whiteboard marker out of a side pocket.

“Right,” Jazz began, “I don’t know how much you know about ecto-entities and since, as you said, the reports on them tend to be pretty biased, I’m just going to start from scratch. Sounds good?” she rambled.

Tim hopped up onto the front row desk and tried his best to look like an attentive teacher’s pet.

“Yes, Ms Fenton,” he said cheekily.

Jazz gave him an amused look.

“Careful Mr Taylor, or you’ll end up in detention,” she said lightly. She turned to the whiteboard and gathered her thoughts for a moment, then wrote ECTO-ENTITIES in large block letters, “Many people refer to all ecto-entities as ghosts, but this is actually a misnomer. Ghosts as most people think of them, i.e. the restless spirits of the dead, are only a small subset of the ectoplasmic population. There’s plenty of them that were never human to begin with,” higher up on the board, she wrote INFINITE REALMS, “Ecto-entities originate from a parallel dimension to ours, which is called the Infinite Realms by its inhabitants. Though my parents refer to it as the Ghost Zone, that name is woefully inadequate.” Jazz paused and glanced at him.

“Kinda like foreigners renaming places instead of using the one in the native language, gotcha,” Tim nodded. They had dealt with alternate realities before, so this wasn’t completely out of left field. He would go along with it for now. Jazz gave him a small smile.

“That’s right!” she said and tapped the whiteboard, “Now, the Infinite Realms and our dimension are closely interconnected, like two sides of the same coin. Large scale damage to one would cause similar devastation on the opposite side and vice versa,” she gave him a serious look.

“Which makes the hostile attitude of the paranormal research community rather worrying,” Tim mused, “If someone did something stupid the blowback would hit us too,” If he wasn’t trained to read people he would have missed the slight tightening around Jazz’s eyes.

“That’s the theory anyway. And it’s not like the US government ever dropped bombs on people just to see what would happen,” she chirped with false cheeriness.

There’s a story there, Tim thought, and not the kind you would find in a history book. What the hell has been going on?

“I’m guessing getting access to the Infinite Realms isn’t as easy as calling an Uber though,” he joked.

“You’d be surprised,” Jazz said wryly, receiving a raised eyebrow in response, “there are places where the barrier between worlds is naturally thin, allowing temporary rifts to form more easily, but they can pop up pretty much anywhere in the world. It’s what allows ecto-entities to enter our dimension. It’s also not unheard of for humans to stumble into the Realms either, though they’re lucky to return at all,” she twirled the marker between her fingers, “Time doesn’t seem to work the same way in the Realms as it does here. Just in case you ever come across one, make sure to leave through the same portal you entered. Otherwise you might find yourself stranded in the Middle Ages, or far in the future with everyone you know and love long dead.”

Tim had to fight to keep down a wince. The whole Bruce Lost In Time Debacle was still an emotional scar for the family, they really didn’t need a repeat performance.

“Duly noted.”

“Some entities are able to open and close rifts at will,” Jazz continued, unfazed by Tim’s dry tone, ”though that ability seems to be pretty rare. It probably requires an unusual level of power or incursions would be much more common.”

“That would explain the little disappearing trick Damian’s delivery guy pulled,” Jason murmured through Tim’s earpiece, “But does that mean we’re dealing with a fucking super ghost?”

Tim gave a thoughtful hum and drummed his fingers against the edge of the desk.

“Do you think humans could open a portal to the Realms?”

Jazz gave him a wry smile.

“You just summed up the bulk of my parents’ research over the last two decades. They managed to build a functioning portal about two years ago.”

Tim choked. Jason swore.

“What?! But that’s-! How is that not all over the news?!” Tim sputtered. Jazz just sighed.

“My parents have been ranting about ghosts since they were in college,” she said wearily, ”Most of the scientific community had written them off as crackpots years ago. It doesn’t help that large concentrations of ectoplasm generate some kind of interference that messes with recording equipment. Short of kidnapping the naysayers and shoving them bodily through the Fenton Ghost Portal it’s hard to prove anything. And thankfully even my parents aren’t that crazy,” she finished with an eye roll.

Tim buried his face in his hands. An interdimensional portal. What the fuck. He thought back on everything Jazz had told him so far.

“What’s ectoplasm?”

“You’ve been paying attention!” she smiled and added some notes to the whiteboard, “Ectoplasm is the basic building block of everything in the Infinite Realms, and by extension ecto-entities. Hence the name. It’s the equivalent of matter in our dimension; atoms, protons, quarks, etcetera. I’m not a physicist, so I can’t tell you exactly how it works, but that’s why ecto-entities are able to interact with our physical world in such fascinating ways. Flight, intangibility and invisibility are all common abilities for them.”

“Wow, what a fucking security nightmare. B is gonna freak,” Jason groused. Tim tuned him out to focus on Jazz’s continued explanation.

“My parents have been experimenting with using ectoplasm for power generation, but it’s proven extremely volatile. It seems like it’s affected by things like belief and emotion which is absolutely fascinating,” she said with a gleam in her eye, “not to mention its effects on organic tissue. Have you ever had your dinner come to life and try to eat you?”

Tim had a sudden, horrible suspicion.

“Can’t say that I have,” he managed to squeeze out past the lump in his throat, “Um… Jazz, what does ectoplasm look like?”

“Well that depends on what it’s been affected and shaped by but in its raw form it looks like a bright green, glowing liquid,” she tilted her head, “Why do you ask?”

Over the comms, Jason made a sound like someone had kicked him in the crotch.

“Lazarus water?! Is she talking about the fucking pits?!” he choked out.

Tim made a valiant effort to keep his own reaction in check.

“Oh, just wondering how I’ll recognize a ghost- er, ecto-entity when I see one,” he lied with fake casualness, “You mentioned something about powers?”

“Yes! All the entities we’ve encountered so far have exhibited powers which are common to their species, as well as additional powers that seem to depend on the individual core. I’ve theorized that powers develop as a response to stress related to either their Obsession or death trauma…” Jazz trailed off, “aaaaaand I’ve lost you.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, I know I have a tendency to ramble,” she said sheepishly and considered the bullet points she had written so far, “Let me backtrack a bit. Not all ecto-entities are ghosts. There’s personifications of concepts, which I theorize are formed through the collective consciousness of living beings. They are entities which represent Hope or Justice or-”

“Time?” Tim interjected. Jazz gave him a calculating look.

“...sure. They are among the most powerful entities and have powers related to what they represent. I suspect they may have even been worshipped as gods at some point. You definitely wouldn’t want to mess with them,” at Tim’s nod, she continued, “There’s also the Neverborn, which are formed when ecto-entities choose to reproduce. They are entirely of the Infinite Realms, and thus were never ‘born’ into our world.”

“Ghosts can have children?” he said, surprised.

“Yes, although I’ve never been able to get the details on how it works. They don’t like to discuss it with outsiders. And considering they can look like dragons or disembodied floating eyeballs I’m not sure I’d want to know the exact mechanics,” she joked.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of people who’d disagree with you on that,” Tim muttered, then paused. “Wait, dragons?”

Jazz waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. The point is that there’s way more to the other side than most people realize. There’s probably lots of things I’ve never even heard of. It’s quite exciting, really!”

Tim worried about it. A lot. Jason had also gone suspiciously quiet.

“So, ghosts are just the tip of the iceberg?” Tim hedged.

“Exactly. What sets them apart from other ecto-entities is that they are usually created upon the death of someone or something from our dimension, which gives them motivation to come back here,” Jazz added more notes and arrows to the whiteboard. “All entities have something they call a core; think of it as their central organ or brain. It houses their consciousness, and its nature affects what powers they get. There’s all kinds of elemental cores like fire and water, but also more esoteric ones like shadow or technology. An ecto-entity’s body is composed of ectoplasm and moulded by their core. Their physical form is malleable and heavily based on their self-perception. With experience they can change shape to suit their needs.”

Tim mentally added shapeshifting to the growing list of powers to worry about. So far it sounded a lot like a Martian’s.

“So can ecto-entities grow and age?”

“It depends. The Neverborn usually do, but a lot of ghosts have a bit of a Peter Pan thing going on where they don’t want to. They are often ‘stuck’ at the age they were when they died, physically and mentally. Though there’s always exceptions.”

Tim hummed thoughtfully. Something had been bothering him since ghosts had first entered the equation.

“Jazz, if ghosts don’t age or die, why aren’t they all over the place? Even if rifts are rare, shouldn’t there be hundreds of thousands of years worth of dead folks wandering the Earth?”

She gave him a sad smile.

“I never said ghosts couldn’t die, Adam,” she said carefully, ”And not everyone who dies comes back as a ghost. The ones who do typically have some unfinished business holding them back. Like an obsession they never got to fulfill, or a loved one they are watching over. Once they are done, they are free to move on to whatever Afterlife awaits them,” she sighed and crossed her arms, “It also takes a lot of energy for a ghost to do anything in our world. I think a majority of them never hit that level, or can’t keep it up for any significant amount of time. It’s also part of the reason my parents are so biased against them.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Think about it. Most ecto-entities are just like regular people, going about their business and keeping their heads down. The ones who are both motivated to cross into our world, powerful enough to manifest and tend to make themselves known are the troublemakers. It would be like an alien looking at the population of Belle Reve and concluding that the majority of humans must be super villains! It’s sample bias.”

Tim bit his lip. This all sounded worryingly plausible, which would mean a literal world of trouble about to come down on their heads. Fuck, just what we needed.

“You mentioned that ghosts can die. I assume you don’t mean from old age, right?” he queried. Jazz looked at him wearily.

“You’d be right. If an ecto-entity’s core is too badly damaged, they will cease to exist,” she said cautiously, “It doesn’t help that ghosts tend to maintain a strength based social hierarchy and are fiercely protective of their territory. Ecto-entities usually have a lair within the Infinite Realms, and those who cross over to our dimension often establish a haunt to call their own. Any intruders would be met with violence,” she sighed and rubbed her forehead, “My parents have also been developing weapons to fight ghosts with… varying degrees of success. A lot of their tech runs on ectoplasm which makes it pretty temperamental.”

Seeing Jazz’s obvious discomfort with the topic, Tim decided to switch tracks.

“Is there any way to tell for sure if my brother came back as a ghost?”

Relieved at the change, Jazz made a see-sawing motion with her hand.

“Kind of? My parents tried for ages to build a ghost detector but they never got it to work quite right. Too much ambient ectoplasm in Amity I guess,” she shrugged as if that statement wasn’t extremely worrying. “You could always grab a ouija board or something and try asking. Just… don’t ask a ghost about their death. It’s a major trauma for most of them and there’s no better way to send them into a frothing rage. If they volunteer the information that’s one thing, but to ask about it is like the social faux pas among ecto-entities.”

Tim nodded and made a mental note to get his hands on some Fenton tech. He had a feeling it was going to be a long week for him.

Jason and Tim didn’t speak until they were safely back in the car. Tim was mentally composing the report they would have to make to Bruce. He was not looking forward to his reaction.

“So,” Jason began with fake casualness, “an interdimensional portal in Illinois.”

“Yep.”

“Creatures made of fucking Lazarus Water.”

“Sounds like it.”

“And we still don’t know if our mystery meta is Bruce’s dead kid or not.”

Tim groaned.

“It all adds up though, doesn’t it? The camera glitching, the powers, the portal…”

“And that damned prophecy. The personification of Time, huh?”

Tim pinched his nose to stave off the growing headache. They contemplated the fucked up situation they had stumbled into in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Jason sighed and started up the engine.

“Rock-paper-scissors for who has to tell B?”

Part 6

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman #batfamily #jazz fenton #tim drake #red robin #jason todd #red hood #prophecy universe #the one where clockwork uses prophecies to mess things up (and set things right)#no beta we die like danny #jazz gets to infodump and worldbuild whoo

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dumbseee · 8 months

Text

just friends, right?

when you and daniel are just friends, or maybe more?

daniel ricciardo x reader.

fc: kendall jenner.

liked by y/n, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1 729 991 others.

danielriccardo: happy birthday to the light of my life (and the bane of my existence.)

fan1: anthony bridgerton said the same thing about his future wife 🤭

fan2: the whole world knows except them

fan3: JUST DATE UGHHH

fan4: drop the act and get married omg

landonorris: mommy and daddy <3

fan5: not lando shipping them too

fan6: i just know his camera roll is full of her

maxverstappen1: @.fan6 it is.

fan7: AAAHAJJSOSLSOPXPCPC

fan8: not lando AND max exposing them

fan9: they’re so meant to be

fan10: "the light of my life" when is someone going to refer to me like this??

fan11: daniel is so sweet with y/n :(

fan12: mind you he posted that one minute before midnight so he could be the first one to wish her a happy birthday :((((

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you were dancing along the music with your girls when you suddenly felt a presence behind you. you were in a crowded club with some friends to celebrate daniel’s return to the grid as a driver for alpha tauri. you turned around to face the guy who clearly was seeking your attention and you smiled when you saw a cute blonde guy smiling back at you. the two of you started dancing together, his hands on your waist and yours around his neck. he was cute, and you could take him home with you but something was off. your mind tried to think of why but your heart already knew.

suddenly, the guy was ripped away from you and pushed far back. you blinked in confusion and saw daniel, now standing in front of you, he glared at the guy before returning his attention to you. his usual warm smile was gone and his eyes were now cold. "what is wrong with you?" you yelled over the music. he didn’t respond but instead he grabbed your wrist and dragged you out of the crowd. he ignored your complaints and finally stopped when you two were now in the parking lot. "care to explain what’s gotten into you, joseph?" you crossed your arms. he took a step closer to you which made you frown and almost take one back. "he was too close to you for my liking." you scoffed and laughed at his answer. "so what? you’re not my dad." you rolled your eyes and tried to go back inside the club but daniel blocked you again. "then what am i to you?" he asked in a low tone, sending shivers all over your body.

"daniel. you’re my-…" he cut you, closing his eyes and pinning you against the wall. "say that we’re just friends, i fucking dare you." you looked at him, completely lost, your cheeks were burning hot because of the way he was looking at you and how close the two of you were. your lips remained shut as you didn’t know what to say, you knew daniel your whole life, he was your best friend, your favorite person on earth, basically your soul mate. in all those years or friendship you did question your true feelings for him, but you never crossed the friendship line. what you had with daniel was too precious to ruin it because of your feelings. "say it, y/n." he repeated, you swallowed and closed your eyes, keeping the eye contact was way too hard for you. you couldn’t see it but seeing you being so flustered made daniel smile, he was happy to see the effect he had on you, and that his feelings weren’t one sided like he feared. "can i kiss you?" you opened your eyes and nodded slowly. daniel gently kissed your lips, his hands resting on your hips while you wrapped your arms around his neck, pushing yourself against him. the kiss grew more passionate, more eager.

you dreamed of that moment for years, you couldn’t believe that it was finally happening. you were kissing your best friend, and it felt right.

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, isahernaez and 729 019 others.

y/n: random dump because i still don’t have a jpg account to empty my camera roll

fan1: AAAAAAH THE CUTIES

fan2: the first couple pictures we get 🥺

fan3: that’s mom and dad right here

isahernaez: finally!!

maxverstappen1: @.charles_leclerc you owe me 100€ man

charles_leclerc: damn it

fan4: NOT THE BOYS MAKING BETS ON THEM

fan5: y/n was already the queen of wags even before she became a wag

fan6: their love story is the cutest ever

fan7: who said friends to lovers was a boring trope because look at THEM

fan8: the speech he did after his first race since his hiatus, when he thanked her was so cute tho

fan9: i just hope it won’t end badly bc their friendship was superior

fan10: now be happy

fan11: YESSSSSSSS

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taglist: @ferrariloverr

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 2 months

Text

My Favorite Pet

BDSM Preformer!Fem!Reader! X subby! Wanda

Summary: You've hit your limit when you can't find a partner to click with at work until a new plaything comes along.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI!, obviously BDSM themes at play, collar leash play, exhibitionism and voyeurism, pet play, pet names (R is referred by W as Mommy, W is referred by R as pet and plaything along with amor) degradation, praise, R uses strap on W, rope play, vibrator use, edge play, aftercare

Word count: 4.5K

A/N: I loved writing this, and I still have more I want to do with this, so if you like it, there could be a part 2 in the future

Having all eyes on you was something you normally dreaded. You hated knowing that people were looking or staring at you. Normally you’d want to be invisible, but not now; not on stage. Fuck did it feel good to have people watching you get degraded or degrade someone else. To toy and tease, bending to your pleasure.

You stood above him, cold as you played through your scene; distant. As soon as it ended, you were gone, far away from him and everyone else. Of course, though, he yells after you are trying to get you to stop. You hate it when anyone yells at you, but more specifically, men.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Y/N!?” He asked as you stopped. Everyone around had their eyes on you, and you shook in place. “Well? What the hell was that? There was nothing behind that! No feeling. No emotion! How are we supposed to give them a good show when it’s all fake?”

You kept walking, ignoring him and his words. It didn’t matter to you anymore. They’re all the same, and none of them are satisfying to you.

“Fuck this I’m done. Find yourself a new stage partner!” you started running until you went out the back door, out of breath as you fall down.

How are you supposed to keep this job when you can’t work with anyone here? You can’t do anything else. This is all you're good at. You are not going to go back to being a teacher again. You loved that, but this was on a whole other level of making you happy and paying the bills that’s for sure.

“Y/N/N?” You hear the familiar voice of your best friend, Kate, call out to you. You look up at her, and she realizes the tears in your eyes. “Oh Y/N, what happened?” She sits down next to you, the warm summer night air feeling good on your skin.

“I can’t work with any of them. There’s no feeling behind it and none of them want to work with me if I can’t do that, but I haven’t been able to do that since…” you shake your head trying not to think of bad thoughts, back to your last partner, well your last partner before Kate. You feel her arms wrap around you, pulling you close.

“Listen to me. She’s nothing. Got it? She’s a shit person, and she doesn’t control you.” You nod slowly, choosing to think of the better times with Kate. You sniffled a bit, and Kate held you tighter. You and Kate had dated for a bit, but you two realized you were better as friends.

“You’ll be okay, let’s go home.” She got up, pulling you up with her.

You hadn’t been to the club in a week even though the manager keeps calling you to ask if you want to do a performance. You can’t though…nobody wants you as their partner. You can’t put emotions into something that you have no emotion towards.

You're lying on Kate’s couch with a blanket pulled up to your chin and scrolling on your social media. You've been staying here instead of your house because you didn’t want to be alone. Kate’s wife, Yelena, is pretty amazing, too. The three of you get along really well. She’s at the end of the couch with your feet on her lap as she watches something on TV. Your phone buzzes again, and it’s your manager, Natasha, who is Yelena’s older sister; you sigh and get Yelena’s attention before answering it.

“Yes Tasha?” you asked, sounding exhausted even to yourself. You shifted onto your back and looked at Lena, who raised an eyebrow. Mouthing ‘Sestra?’ Which you nod to her.

“Can you come tonight? I need you to help out with a new girl. She’s going to be starting tonight. She’s a year younger than you and I think it’d be good for both of you.” You sigh again, not really wanting to go out tonight, especially not there where you have to dress up and put on a show.

“Domme or sub?” you ask, noticing Yelena’s smirking.

“Sub it seems.” Submissive boys are fun to play with, but girls are always a lot more fun to play with.

“Alright…what time?” you could hear her perk up.

“The usual time. Five to close.” You sigh again. After not being there for a week, you were not looking forward to a nine hour shift.

“I’ll be there, no promises on how good I’ll be.” You let her know and hung up. You closed your eyes, and Lena spoke,

“We going to the club tonight?” Lena wiggled her eyebrows at you. As if doesn’t visit her sister every night or work on the back end of the business with Kate.

“Yeah there’s a new girl they want me to show her the ropes, literally.” you both laugh at the pun as Kate comes in the front door.

“What’s so funny?” She asks setting her keys down in the bowl they keep by the entry way.

“Y/N’s gotta show a new girl the ropes.” Kate’s expression falls.

“You two are idiots.”

“We’re your idiots though~” you say and get up with a smile. “This could end up being a fun evening.”

You had Kate and Yelena take you back home so you could go choose an outfit. It was simple enough, just a red silk button-up with a black tie and a black button-up vest and some black dress pants as well as a pair of black loafers. You checked yourself over in the mirror and slicked your Y/H/C hair back.

Your phone vibrates multiple times in a row, and you know it’s Kate. You smile and roll your eyes as you grab your phone. Five new text messages from her.

“You’re still going right?”

“Don’t make me drag you there!”

“Hey!”

“Answer me!”

“Where are you??”

You type out a message to her, “Yes, I’m going. I’ll be there in five.” You barely get to set your phone down before another reply comes in from her,

“See you there ily <3” You smile at your phone and reply to it before sliding it into your pocket along with my other belongings.

≈≈≈

The club was always so quiet before hours as the three of you made your way inside past Bucky the bouncer who always loved to see you. Familiar faces on you, some happy and others not so much as you made my way to Tasha letting her know to send the new girl to your room and then headed there. Kate and Yelena stayed behind, grabbing a drink from the bartender, Scott.

You were putting the finishing touches on your make-up when there was a knock at your door. “Come in.” you called, when the door opened you looked through your mirror to see probably the most beautiful woman you had ever met, auburn hair, piercing emerald green eyes that you could see from across the room, she wore a short black dress with a red leather crop jacket, she wore knee high ripped stockings, and ankle cuff boots, the make-up around her green eyes was dark and smoky in a way that reminded me of high school.

“Hi you’re Y/N, right?” She asked and fuck she has an accent which is your biggest weakness. You love accents of all kinds and most of them turn you on.

“Yes that is me. I unfortunately wasn’t told your name, just that you’re new and would be my new partner.” She smiled at you.

“Wanda. Wanda Maximoff.” She told me.

“Wanda...” You tested the name on your lips. “Beautiful.” You smiled and noticed her blush. “Come here.” You beckoned, and she finally stepped in, sauntering over to you. “Spin around.” She does as told, spinning slowly as I looked her over, drinking up every inch of her. “Stop.” you commanded as she faced you again. “Kneel.” She got down without a word of protest, “Such a good girl.” You smirk. “Now tell me, is there anything I should know about you, Wanda?” you ask and she pulls out the forms that everyone has to fill out of their kinks, hard limits, soft limits, and some personal questions mainly about health issues that your play partner should be aware of, allergies, and if you have any STDs. The last question is about safe sex which Wanda takes birth control much like myself. Not that you ever actually do it with the guys.

As far as tastes go, Wanda and you are pretty much on the same page with your likes and dislikes, which makes you smile. “I can work with this.” You tilt her chin up using your fingers. She had been looking at the floor this whole time, “Now for my own personal questions for you, Wanda. Which name do you like better, pet, puppy, kitten, baby, or something else entirely?” You ask her.

“Pet is always a good one for me. I tend to have Doms that tell me what I am, why does it matter which I like best?” She tilts her head to the side so innocently.

“I want to get the best reaction out of you. The whole performance is you. All eyes on your reactions, and they need to be genuine. No form of play is good if you don’t follow one simple rule.” You tell her, and she tilts her head the opposite way. You lean down slightly, so you're eye level with her. “I may be the Domme, but you are in control of the whole scene. You’re the one who holds control over all of it.” You tell her, and she looks so confused.

“What are you talking about? I’m not in control at all. You control me. You tie me up, you degrade me, you turn me into a dumb slut because you’ve fucked me until I can’t even think how am I in control?” you bite your lip at the idea of everything she just said to you, soaking it in and remembering it for your performance.

“Safe word.” You start, “You hold all of the control because you hold the safe word. The thing that will end everything. Make me stop dead in my tracks and make sure you’re okay. Make sure you are safe.” You're looking into the deep emerald eyes, and she’s staring back into my own Y/E/C ones. “You really never had a good Dom who took care of you, did you?” You tilt your head.

“They took care of me in the way that mattered.” She tried defending, but I knew she didn't have a leg to stand on in this aspect.

“Aftercare.” You state simply, and she looks at you with her face contorting in confusion.

“What?”

“Have you ever had aftercare?”

“I...what is that?” Your heart sinks at her response.

“How many Dom/sub relationships have you been in?”

“Seven.” She swallows hard. Seven BDSM relationships and not one of them took care of this girl?

“Aftercare is what you do when the scene ends. This is where the Dom makes sure that you come back from subspace in a safe way and not crashing back; it can have bad effects on your mental and physical health. I always have my subs tell me what they like best, for me personally when I’m the sub I tend to ask for cuddles and I can just scroll on my phone watching tiktok and YouTube shorts that I can share with my partner. I’ve had subs that ask for cuddles and words of affirmation, I’ve had baths after a scene is done, surprisingly I even had one that just wanted to always go for a walk in the park after.” ypu shrug, “Everyone is different. What is something you think you’d like to do?” You ask, and she thinks for a moment.

“I really enjoy cooking, and I’m always hungry after sex. I’ve always just cooked by myself, making a meal for my Dom.” She confesses.

“Well then, after we finish our performance, you and I can go back to my place, it’s only a few blocks away, and we can cook dinner. Does that sound good?” She blushes and nods. You cup her cheeks, brushing the pads of your thumbs across her cheeks, loving the feeling of her smooth skin beneath your tips. “I’m going to take care of you, Wanda. We have a long night ahead of us. While others perform until it’s our turn, luckily they saved us for last, we’ll be going around the club and introducing you to our clientele. I’ll introduce you as my pet or plaything. You have no name to them, at least as a sub. Well, even as a Domme, I shouldn’t have a name, but they all know me out there, so they call me by my name.” You let her know, and she’s listening intently.

“Yes...uh...”

“Miss, Mistress, Master, Sir, Mommy. Whichever you prefer. I love all of them.”

“Yes...Mommy.” you smiled at her, running your fingers through her hair.

“My good baby.” I haven’t felt like this since her. It's been so long since you thought you'd never feel like this with a partner again. “How about we get you all dressed up, pretty girl. As much as I love this outfit you’ve chosen. I’d like you in something a little different.” You smirk, and she nods happily, ready and willing to follow.

You get her dressed in a red lace lingerie set with black accents and roses over it, along with garter belts and a pair of black thigh highs. You get her all fixed up and dolled up. “There’s a pretty girl.” You put your thumb and middle finger on either side of her chin. “I can’t wait to have you screaming later.” You tease as you grab a little lacey red and black collar for her to match that you put on her, a little tag hanging from it that says ‘Property of Y/N/N’

“Y/N/N?” Wanda questions.

“My nickname. It feels more personal than one that has my Domme title. Besides, I have like six that I rotate through. My nickname is always permanent.” You explain, and her biting her lip and blushing doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

≈≈≈

“Y/N, Miss. Romanoff wants you on stage for a solo.” MJ, Natasha’s ‘assistant’ tells me, you internally and externally groan, rolling your neck. You're about to throw a tantrum when Tasha rounds the corner, giving you her signature look.

“Yeah, no. I’m having none of your attitude after ghosting us for a week. You’ll go up there, and you WILL have a good time. You’ll show your pet just how much fun solos can be. Do I make myself clear? Unless you want a punishment tonight?” Tasha asks, and it just makes you want to groan more. She grabs your face tightly, nails digging in, making you hiss. You aren't in the head space for that as you pull away.

“Okay Tasha I get it. I’m not in a sub state of mind, so can you lay off.” You bite at her. Tasha was your oldest friend. Older than Kate and who you met in high school. Tasha and you go back to diapers, which is why she puts up with your bullshit at times and other times knowing when you need to be put in your place. Tasha and you have fucked around, you have for years, it was always a good time when you needed to not think for six or more hours.

“Then act like it. I set up your Playlist.”

“Okay fine. Let’s go, pet.” You tug on the leash that is attached to the collar around her neck. When you get in front of the stage, you turn to Wanda. “Sit.” She sits front and center on the floor. “Good girl. Watch me.”

“Who’s ready for some good entertainment!?” You call out, you're back to the crowd as they roar back as ‘Hey Look Ma, I Made it’ starts playing, and you're taking over the stage. Suddenly, you're a whole other person. Captivating everyone, locking eyes, you dance and sing around. Next plays ‘Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off’ and you smirk, looking at Wanda as you crawl over to her. So long as you don’t pull her up on the stage it’s still a solo performance. Tasha doesn’t have rules about involving audience members so long as they don’t come on the stage.

You fuck with her almost the whole song as you move around, touching yourself, moaning out as the crowd roars, money finding it’s way to the stage as you practically get yourself off in front of them. As the song crescendos, you feel an orgasm rack through your body as you lock eyes with Wanda, watching her squirm, thighs so tightly pressed against each other, and you smirk at her as your performance ends. Collecting your earnings and bowing as you get off the stage, grabbing Wanda’s leash and pulling her.

“Let’s go. Now.” You pull her back to your dressing room, locking the door behind you. “Strip. Now.” She seems taken aback by it as you start taking off the little clothes you had left after your performance. She starts doing the same, and once you're both undressed, you push her back onto the bed in your dressing room. Moving yourself between her thighs, which are covered in her juices, you can smell her, and you feel hazy from how good she smells. Without asking you dive right in, letting your tongue swipe over her folds as she moans out, you moan out at how good she tastes, so fucking sweet,

“Ah! M-Mommy!” You flick both your tongue and your eyes up at her. Watching as her face twists in pleasure, expertly working your tongue over her and sucking on her clit. “Please...”

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.” you smirk at her words.

“Oh you can do better than that pet. Go on, beg for it.”

“Please Mommy fuck me with your fingers! Please fill me up with your fingers and make me cum until I can’t think!” you do as asked and push two fingers inside making her moan out as she grabs your hair, rutting against your face as you lay your tongue out flat for her to ride against as you pump your fingers in her. “F-Faster..Harder...” She’s whimpering and so you add a third finger making it a little harder to move as her walls clench around your slender digits.

“Oh good girl, so tight for Mommy. Are you going to cum from Mommy’s fingers?”

“Yes Mommy!”

“Did you enjoy my performance pet?”

“Yes Mommy!”

“Did you want to touch yourself when you saw me like that?”

“Yes Mommy! I wanted to touch myself. I wanted to crawl on stage and eat you and please you and...ah...Mommy.” Her words sent fire to your core.

“Cum.” you tell her and moments later she’s unraveling in front of you. A moaning, whimpering, mewling mess. “Good girl...so good for Mommy.” you lick up what you can off your face, moaning once more at the taste as you move up, brushing your thumb across her bottom lip, “Open.” She opens her mouth allowing your fingers inside as she looks you in the eye, cleaning them. “Mmmm fuck...” you felt that familiar feeling in your chest as your eyes bore into each other, the feelings she was sending through you. You knew what this was and you don’t think you've ever fallen faster.

“More?” you laugh a bit at her request.

“Oh you’ll get plenty during our performance, pretty girl. Don’t worry Mommy’s going to take good care of you.”

≈≈≈

When Wanda stood, she was taller than you, which meant on stage she'd be kept on her knees. You made sure she had on knee pads since we'd be performing for over an hour.

“Hello out there to all you lovely people! Welcome to the last performance of the night here at The Red Room!” Of course, there were some people making disheartening noises. “Don't you worry my pet and I will make sure that this is a performance you can go home later and think about while you fuck yourselves!” you call out as you get things ready. “Now my pet is new. It is her first performance tonight. Shall I go easy on her?” A roar of no's came from the crowd. “Well I'm glad it's not up to you. I'm going to give her everything she wants and needs. When I'm done with her she's going to be a dumb slut with no thoughts.” you make a clicking noise with your mouth, signaling Wanda to come out, crawling as she makes her way to me. Before your performance you told her to keep her eyes on you unless you told her otherwise. Mostly to help with her nerves. When she got to your legs she nuzzled into them. Yoi ran your fingers through her hair.

“I'd like everyone to meet my new pet to those who didn't get the opportunity earlier. She's a sweet little plaything, and I'm going to break her so good before your eyes tonight.” You look down at Wanda and smile as you grip her hair, pulling as she mewls. You loved hearing her sounds. She looked up at you, eyes already blown with lust just from the eyes on her.

You get her up on the bed we have up on the stage. It has this amazing bathroom blanket for any messes that are made, which is amazing.

“Strip.” She does as told, taking off her lingerie set you put her in, leaving her in only your collar, you smiled down at her. “Tão bonita.(So beautiful)” You speak in Portuguese, which throws her off momentarily, not knowing what you've said to her.

You grab the ropes and start tying her up expertly. Doing your signature pentagram harness, whispering as you tighten the ropes down her arms, “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes Mommy.” You smile and kiss her neck, nibbling and making sure you mark her up. She's yours. No one else is taking her from you.

You have her kneeling for you, back arched perfectly as the vibrator sits against her clit and you pound into her with your 8 inch strap. “Who are you?” you ask, grabbing her hair, pulling her against your chest.

“Mommy’s dumb little cock slut!” She cries out. You’ve been edging her for just about an hour. Every time she's come close you stop everything and whisper sweet nothings in her ears. All the makeup she's put on is ruined and staining her cheeks from the tears in her eyes. “You look so cute when you cry, amor.”

“M-Mommy please…can't take n’more. Cum Mommy?” She was begging and mewling as you left marks over her back. You push all 8 inches back inside, bottoming out as you push her face down into the mattress.

“My fucking slut wants to cum?” you ask.

“Yes! Yes, Mommy! Please! Please, Mommy! Wan’cum on Mommy's cock!”

“Go on slut. Cum all over my cock.” Wanda cums on your command, shaking intensely as she squeezes so tight it's hard to move, but the friction is enough to get you off. “F-fuck!” you moan out as you bottom out inside her and rutt against her as she collapses beneath you. Completely engulfed in subspace as I slowly pull out of her.

“Thank you, everyone. I hope you enjoyed my pet's first performance and any further tips are always appreciated.” You say with a bow as various customers and clients leave us tips on the stage. You leave Steve, who cleans up the stage between performances to clean it up as you untie Wanda, the rope marks deep in her skin, more marks from me. You toss aside the strap after the curtain has closed and pick Wanda up. She's taller than you, but you're strong enough to do this much as you take her back to your dressing room. Laying her down on your bed as you grab comfy clothes of sweatpants and a baggy shirt for her. Throwing leggings and a sweatshirt on yourself, not bothering with anything else for us besides shoes. “Let's go to my house, amor. Can you walk?” You ask, and she nods, but almost falls when she tries to stand on her own. “I've got you. Come on, let's go get you that aftercare.” You have your arm around her waist as you walk out.

You set Wanda up on your countertop as she figured out a recipe to make and you counted out your tips dividing it in half.

“Here you go, amor. Your half.” You hand it to her,

“How much is it?” She asks, eyes coming off the screen as she looks at the wad I'm handing her.

“$750. Don't expect it every time. Our performance was new, and people were excited. I've had nights where I only make $50. Either way, though, just remember that there's always tomorrow.” You tell her.

“Y/N?”

“hmm?”

“How long have you done this for?” She asks, and you notice how she is now coming back fully as she looks around your penthouse.

“10 years.”

“How old are you?”

“28. I've been doing this since I was 18. Natasha and I go way back to being in diapers. Our parents were friends growing up. Tasha is a few years older than me and established the club while I finished up high school. Once I turned 18, she let me join the club.” Wanda nodded, listening.

“How many-”

“Too many. I'd rather not think about that, okay, amor?” You had cut her off. You didn't want to think about past partners. All you wanted was her at this moment.

You move between her legs, kissing gently over the marks you've left on her neck. “I only want to think about you right now.” You admit against her neck, and you feel her relax.

“I'm okay with that.” You smiled against her neck.

“How about we make some pasta? I've got a carb craving right now.” you ask, looking up at her. Though I'd be dominant all night, looking up at her from between her legs just felt right.

“Sounds good to me.” She cupped your cheeks and leaned down, pulling you up so your lips met, and you melted a bit. She was perfect.

The two of you were curled up on your couch watching sitcoms. You had found out they were Wanda's favorites. You were lying down. You were laying on her mainly because she pulled you in this way. “Shhh I wanna hold you.” Had been her response, and you didn't argue with her. Laying here with your head on her chest, hearing her heartbeat as she gently scratched my scalp eventually lulled you to sleep.

#ley speaks #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #ley writes #wanda x reader #wanda x you #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fluff #subby!wanda #dom!reader

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midnight-in-town · 1 year

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About Yor: she isn’t dense, but most likely indoctrinated by Garden

So I wanted to address this for a long while now, because I’ve seen one too many posts talking about Yor like she’s just an aloof assassin who doesn’t care about things outside her direct environment, which is why sometimes she says dense things.

I’m well aware that she’s a fan favorite so people don’t mean her harm, yet I think the whole story actually hints at way more than her being dense, especially considering her background and who she still works for.

In other words, since Yor was trained but also half raised by Garden’s leader, the Shopkeeper, it’s likely that, considering how they operate and what they’re about, they instilled in her a conditioned dependency since childhood or teenage years that would make her unable to learn things on her own without asking for their opinion, making it very hard for her to turn against them ever.

Want a striking example? Her encounter with Melinda Desmond.

Not only did she not know who Melinda was (but I mean, that at least could be understandable)...

...but she also didn’t know what a First Lady is.

Sure, it’s funny on first glance, but after thinking about it, what does it betray? That Garden probably made sure over years Yor would never get the slightest basic info and understanding on what politics of this country are all about. Because if their strong soldiers start to get opinions of their own, then they could start disagreeing with Garden and turning on them. So, “let’s prohibit people having free thinking, so that they can remain good little pawns” as we “fight for peace in our country”.

In fact, for Yor, until a short time ago (when she met Loid and Anya), all she did was thought and decided for her by Garden and, to this day, she still voluntarily asks them for their agreement when she opens up her close circle little by little: she asked them if it was okay to marry Loid and then she asked them if it was okay to befriend Melinda.

To be honest, that’s a scary ass thought process to envision, when Yor’s an independent working lady well into her 20s, but this shows how deep Garden’s indoctrination runs in Yor, since they got hold of her as a child/young teen.

Another striking example is the way she always describes her job, in an almost childish way. Her nickname “thorn princess” aside, I always found it interesting that Yor’s aware she’s an assassin but she isn’t morally anguished at all about killing people and never mentions or distinguishes any grey area in her missions. In fact...

... it’s all in black and white and she clearly thinks that the people she kills are all evildoers (which as we saw in the recent arc with the Red Circus isn’t always the case and begs the rhetorical question “why does Garden get to decide who’s evil?”), therefore “she’s not doing anything wrong”, which also pretty much betrays how she was pushed into it.

Long ago, Garden probably baited Yor with Yuri’s protection and told her that, since they’re “about peace”, Yor’s work would just help them to “fight against evil”. As a child, she wasn’t mentally fit to understand the deeper implications and then she was mentally conditioned to always do and think like Garden tells her to, which promotes this systematic childish description of her assassin’s job.

Finally, please take notice of the Shopkeeper’s reaction the first time she tries to argue about her work, in the ship arc:

Enough said, Garden’s awful. I’m sure there are more examples throughout the story, but I now want to talk about future character development.

After all, since the story obviously calls for Yor to ditch Garden, to protect what’s actually important to her (Yuri, Loid and Anya), we actually do see her changing little by little so far, thanks to her living with Loid and Anya. Her coworkers quickly mentioned that she’s more lively ever since she got married and the ship arc overall emphasizes that her family is starting to become more important to her than her job, so there is high hope for Yor. :D

Additionally, while she’s still far away from noticing that Garden mentally drove her into a corner, she now openly voices her concerns that “she’s not normal” but that she wants to understand why in order to learn how to change.

To be fair, fighting against indoctrination is tough and takes time so I’m very proud of her for slowly realizing that she ought to decide for herself from now on. :D

TL;DR Yor is not dense. She was indoctrinated as a child by Garden and can only (for now) see the world through the filters they taught her.

Ironically enough, the only character who knows about her real job and could, thus, notice that Yor isn’t being critical about Garden...... actually can’t because she’s a four year old who is too young to understand that Mama’s job is wrong. Well done, Endo-sensei!

#Spy x Family #yor forger #anya forger #loid forger #yuri briar #melinda desmond #garden #shopkeeper #sxf theory #my analysis

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faeriichaii · 3 months

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hi!! i’ve never requested smth before but your writing is so good im gonna give it a shot💫 could i request a legolas x human reader where she somehow accidentally touches his pointy ears not knowing that they’re sensitive for elves and legolas asks her to keep doing it (fluff/like half smut more like teasing maybe?) and legolas is just this soft baby who begs her for her touch 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Sensitive ~ Legolas x Human!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much!! You're like so sweet <33 Oh that sounds very interesting 🤭 I like the idea!! I think I once read like one with a bunch of the elves where the reader accidentally touches their ears and like!! So I hope you enjoy the story <33 (and ngl I was so close to turn it into a smut rip)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: fluff, lil bit smut (if you squint your eyes) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 875 ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (thank you <33) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Meleth Nin ~ My Love ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Aini Nin ~ My Angel ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Gi Melin ~ I love you ࿐ྂ

Summary: You knew that Legolas could endure quite a lot, but what you did not expect is his reaction to touching his pointy ears

You loved keeping watch during the night. Everything seemed so calm and quiet and it was the only time of the day where you really get the chance to be by yourself. Where you get the chance to think about everything that happened so far and everything that still has to come. Sometimes Legolas joins you during your watch times. These were your favourite moments with him. You always have the most wonderful talks and share your thoughts with each other.

Being alone with him fills you up with joy and warmth. One could almost say you get drunk by his intoxicating charm that he shares specifically with you. Both of you were once more sitting on the logs, around a fire that has been put out for quite some time now, talking about the future ahead. “Do you think your father will like me?” You suddenly asked him, using a stick to draw a heart onto the dirt beneath you. “There is no way he could not. He will adore you as much as I do Aini Nin.”

A bashful smile graced your lips, as you wrote your initial, as well as his into the heart. “I can’t wait to meet your hometown my love. And your father. I want to see everything and get to know all about Mirkwood.” Looking up at him, you caught him already staring at you. His eyes were shining with love and care for you. “And I wish to visit your hometown. Learn all about your family and the customs you share.”

His arm snaked around your waist, in order to pull you into his warm side. Dropping the stick you used for your small drawing, you leaned into him. “Do you think we should take Gimli with us?” A laugh escaped Legolas lips at the thought of the dwarf running around the palace grounds. “I think that would either end up in multiple deaths or banishment on his side.” Chuckling at his response, you leaned your head onto his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“I love you.” You said, gazing up at him lovingly. “Gi melin, Meleth Nin.” He gave you a soft kiss on the lips, which you immediately reciprocated. You still were looking at him, shining in the moonlight like an angel sent from heaven, as you noticed one of his braids getting loose. “Oh Legolas, can I re-braid your hair?” “Of course.” With that you stood up to take your place on his lap. His hands gently laid on your waist, as you undid his hairdo.

“I wish I had soft hair like you do.” You said, brushing your fingers through his white strands. “Your hair is already perfect as it is Aini Nin.” He softly whispered, as he leaned into your touch. A gentle smile graced your lips. Quickly giving him a loving kiss on his temple, you resumed your work on his hair. Parting the strand into a few sections, you began to weave your fingers through them. The quietness of the forest was interrupted, as Legolas let out a hitched breath. You raised an eyebrow at the sound that escaped him but continued to braid his hair.

His hands tightened around your hips, as your fingers accidentally brushed against his ear. You noticed that his ears slowly gained a red colour by the tips. A smirk played on your lips, as you let your hand brush against his pointy ear once more. Legolas let out another shaky sigh. “Are you alright my love?” You asked him, playfulness evident in your words. “Yes, it’s just… my ears. They are sensitive.” A little giggle left your lips, as you abandoned the braid and instead focused on his ear. You gently let your fingers trail along the pointy form. The elf underneath you let out a soft whine at your touch, slightly leaning into your hand.

His breathing got ragged, hips also moving up into you while pressing you down on him. “Should I stop Meleth Nin?” You innocently asked, playing with the tip of his ear. “No, please. Don’t stop.” A whine followed his words, as you put your other hand around his other ear, massaging both of them equally. Warmth spread through your body at the sounds that escaped your lover underneath you. The elven prince tried his best to keep as subtle and quiet as possible, in order to not wake up the others around you. “Do you love it when I play with your beautiful elven ears?” “Yes.” His breathy answer was muffled, as he hid his face in your neck. “Please don’t stop.” He whispered, giving you a gentle kiss on the exposed skin. Legolas cheeks were rosy and so were your own. You knew that elves could endure quite a lot, but you did not expect them to have wobbly knees after just a touch to the ears.

Suddenly you stopped your little ministration, making the prince underneath you whine sadly. “I am sorry my love, but you don’t want to wake the others now, do you?” You said, smirking slightly at his flustered expression. His hands tightened around your waist, as he brought you closer. His warm breath hit your ear. “You are going to regret this.”

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lynxgriffin · 11 months

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Eldritchrune - Story Setup and Character Info

Start | Next

Full text transcriptions under the read more:

Hometown was once a quiet, largely rural community…until, as often happens, much larger powers decided to move in. An expanding empire takes over the land around the small community, and the old town is now surrounded by a rapidly growing fortress and city. A more threatening military presence is felt, and poverty quickly creeps in as the expanding empire takes advantage of the residents still in Hometown.

[Image of a smaller, more rural Hometown with a much larger city and fortress walls behind it]

While the younger generation at least attempts to adapt to all the changes, the older generation deeply resents this intrusion into their old home. Many of the elders, including Asgore and Toriel Dreemurr, Father Alvin, Mayor Holiday and her husband Rudolph, form their own tight-knit group that soon spirals into a cult.They’re a small community with no means of standing up to an empire’s armies. But, there’s always been old whispers of things far more powerful and terrible…old gods and strange horrors that hail from a Dark World parallel to their own. The cult focuses their attention specifically on tales of a Dark Prince, a goatlike entity made of fire and shadow that can pacify any enemy. Surely, if they can gain the favor of something so dark and powerful, they’ll have a means of driving away all of these intruders and restoring Hometown to the way it used to be.

However, as everyone knows, trying to call up old gods demands sacrifices. Mayor Holiday, having gotten the group together, tries to take the brunt of this duty and first sacrifices her daughter, December. However, it seems to be a botched ritual, and nothing useful results from it, leaving the Mayor extremely bitter. The other elders are tasked with picking up vagrants or other troublemakers to try and successfully complete this ritual, but none seem to work.

Unwilling to offer up their own dutiful son, Asriel, the Dreemurrs instead adopt an orphan from the poverty-stricken streets of the encroaching city: Kris. However, they find that upon adopting them, Asriel quickly forms a close bond with Kris. Asriel, like most of the younger generation, is unaware of his parents and grandparents’ intentions. Kris is not easy to take care of sometimes…they have weird interests, aren’t very clean, and are often disobedient. Despite this, Toriel and Asgore find Kris growing on them, too. The thought of sacrificing them gets harder and harder to swallow. [Image of Kris and a human Asriel hanging out together and talking while Asriel sits at a writing desk. Toriel and Asgore look on the both of them from a nearby doorway.] However, the other elders start to pressure them, questioning why they’re so intent on keeping this weird orphan around. Aren’t they a symbol of everything going wrong with their little community, and with this invading modern future? Toriel continues to put it off, using the excuse that she is doing extensive research to make sure that they finally do this ritual correctly. While she is indeed conducting research, she also knows that they can’t do anything with Kris as long as Asriel is around with them.

However, when Asriel is offered an extended stay at the city’s new university to get advanced training as a scholar, the Dreemurrs don’t have an excuse anymore. At the other elders’ behest to do what’s necessary for the good of the town, they decide to conduct the ritual with Kris. The cult brings Kris to an underground shelter in the woods outside town, with Kris none the wiser about their intentions until they are incapacitated and unable to escape. Toriel’s extensive research pays off, and Kris is appropriately sacrificed to the Dark Prince. The ritual causes them to vanish from this plane, seemingly dead…but there’s still no sign of the old god they were trying to summon.

[Image of Asgore, Toriel and other older townsfolk, dressed in various goat or deer masks and robes, with Asgore carrying Kris towards an altar.]

The Dreemurrs are distraught at this seeming failure, after they worked so hard to ensure that they did this right. The remaining elders double down, though, insisting that they have to keep trying. Asriel returns from his training, and is devastated to find his sibling missing. Toriel and Asgore, unable to admit what they did, lie to Asriel and say that Kris had a huge argument and left home on their own. Asriel vows to search for them and bring them back home, and while his parents try to dissuade him from this, they’re unsuccessful.

[Image of Asriel stepping out the door of his home, a large backpack slung over his shoulder, and waving off Toriel and Asgore in the foreground. They stay indoors while he heads out into the world.]

Meanwhile, unknown to anyone in the Light World, the ritual was actually successful, and transported Kris to the Dark World…right into the home of Ralsei, the very Dark Prince they were trying to reach! Ralsei is delighted to finally have an actual human from the Light World visit him! Sure, he’s heard about all those previous sacrifices, but they never actually got to him. The Dark World and the afterlife aren’t really the same place, after all. [Image of Kris floating down into a new Dark World, where Dark Prince Ralsei stands next to a large cauldron and welcomes them.]

Kris, however, is infuriated and despondent…they’ve already had a very hard life as an orphan, and now just when it seemed like they had a new family they could trust, that trust was broken by adults who once again threw them away for their own purposes. Ralsei, ever cheerful, assures them that they must be here for a reason…and that he has a means for them to not only return to the Light World, but get retribution for what’s happened to them and their Hometown.

[Image of the silhouettes of many large eldritch beasts: Susie, Noelle, Berdly and Catti.]

The Dark World is full of eldritch beasts, strange demons and old gods, after all. He can grant them the forbidden knowledge and ability to speak to and even command these eldritch beasts. Once they form a strong enough bond with the beasts, and make it through the bound gods that may bar the way, they can bring them back to the world of light…and command them to do whatever Kris would like to the people living there. However, such power and ability comes at a high cost…Kris’s human soul.

[Image of Kris giving their soul to Ralsei; the soul emanates a red glow between them.]

Kris, seeing little other option and not feeling much attachment to their humanity anyway, agrees and sells their soul to the Dark Prince Ralsei. Ralsei excitedly promises that he’ll take extra good care of their soul, and that he’ll accompany them as they befriend the eldritch beasts lurking in the Dark World. This arrangement certainly has some other benefits for Kris, too…in addition to this forbidden knowledge, Ralsei’s control over their soul grants them a degree of invulnerability. If Kris dies or is somehow psychologically destroyed, Ralsei can use it to revive them completely.

[Image of Kris, now decked out with armor and a sword, standing on a cliffside looking out over the Dark World. Ralsei stands nearby.]

Ralsei gives Kris suitable armor and weaponry for this venture, and the two set out into a vast Dark Realm of strange horrors, lost cities and twisting paths in search of new friends and a means back to the Light World. While Kris is unsure about this journey at first, Ralsei is all smiles, excited for them to gain some friendships that they clearly desperately need! Of course, he’s excited for other reasons, too…those cultists have been calling out to him for such a long time, and now with Kris’s human soul, he can finally enter the Light World. Kris can forge the bonds they’ve been lacking, Ralsei and the eldritch beasts they find will finally have access to the human world, and the people clamoring for terrible things to happen will get exactly what they asked for. How could that not be a happy ending?

#lynx art #deltarune #deltarune au #Eldritchrune #okay I'm finally consolidating some of this!#a handy thread for reference!

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bangtanflirt · 8 months

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(Un)natural Instincts (Part 5)

*Series taglist is closed.

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property, future smut (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: brief mention of the lasting effects of performing sexual acts under the influence of the synthetic hormones (aka dubcon), slight daddy issues

____

Yoongi wakes up to the sound of his phone alarm blaring in his ear. It takes him a moment to remember he’s not in his room, the chandelier on the ceiling making that evident. No matter how many times he sleeps in this room, the extravagance of it will always startle him. You really were not one for subtlety when it came to home décor (or at least, twenty-one-year-old you wasn’t).

He looks at the door and remembers the reason he’s here…how there’s six wolf hybrids on the other side. Sure, they’re about as docile as a box of puppies at the moment, but it’s only a handful of more days until that changes. And worst of all, he still has to go to work and leave you alone with them for hours—especially now that you’ve paused housekeeping and chef visits. Even if you didn’t pause them, they’d stop coming on their own; no one sane would take a chance around a 40% wolf pack slowly remembering their natural instincts. Hell, the security services he’s looked at won’t even take that risk. No matter how many times he tells you how insane of a decision this is, your stubbornness will always win out in the end. He’s never been able to stop you when you’re determined to do something.

Yoongi wishes he could stay here with you, but he knows there’s no way you’d rest easy without him keeping you updated on business. He’s always been your right-hand, and while others might find the role burdensome, he prides himself on it. You don’t keep people close often, having your guard set up higher than the Great Wall of China, and it feels nice knowing he can see a side of you others don’t. Yes, it’s probably the feelings talking—feelings he’s tried to shoo away for a long time now—but that doesn’t make it any less true. He likes this job, and being by your side every day, far too much to risk it by trying anything. And he sure as hell won’t be put in the box of men who constantly hit on you during work, knowing far too well how much you hate their gazes and remarks.

It's when he’s making his way to the kitchen for his morning coffee does he lock eyes with Jimin, who’s already bright-eyed and making pancakes.

“Good morning, Sir! Would you like some pancakes and bacon?”

Yoongi doesn’t normally eat breakfast, but he does not have it in him to say no to the cheery wolf.

“Um…sure, thank you.”

“My pleasure. Anything else I can get you? Juice? Coffee?”

“I can make my own coffee but thank you for offering.”

“No please, I insist!”

He doesn’t leave any room for objections as he races over to the coffee machine, keeping a skillful eye on the pancake on the stove while brewing a new pot.

Yoongi watches awkwardly, not really knowing what to do in this situation. He’s never really talked to a hybrid before.

Do I just talk like I would to another person? Should I howl? No, dumbass, don’t howl. That’s weird.

He opts to stay silent as Jimin prepares his meal.

The wolf is in a visibly cheery mood, as evident by the soft whistling he does while making his way around the kitchen. The cause of this mood is simple: his hyung was still not in the room when he woke up. If you’re using Hoseok’s services, then that’s one step closer to getting you to use the whole pack. Which means they have a chance at staying here. Hoseok hyung did his part, now it’s Jimin’s turn. So he woke up early, memorized where everything in the kitchen was, and started working his magic.

And the fruit—or pancake—of his labor is sitting pretty on a plate, served with a cup of hot coffee on the side. He waits eagerly for Yoongi to take his first bite, which the man does quickly under the expecting gaze.

“This is really good, thank you.” He mumbles between mouthfuls, making the younger man break into a wide grin.

“Thank you for enjoying it Sir! I can make it again for breakfast tomorrow, or eggs, or toas—”

“Just Yoongi is fine. ‘Sir’ isn’t necessary. And thank you again for the food, but there’s no need to cook every morning. I usually prefer to make my own coffee and head out.”

“Oh…then I’ll just prepare the coffee for you! It’ll be in your hand right when you walk out your room!”

Yoongi waves his hand dismissively,

“No need. I’ll make it myself.”

Jimin looks for any sign of a trick. He remembers things like this from the lab, where they’d give him trick scenarios to see if he was smart enough to catch on. But Yoongi’s face doesn’t indicate anything.

He seems awkward, so maybe he just doesn’t know how to use a hybrid yet? I should let him know how to use me.

“But I’m here to serve y/n, and you’re y/n’s guest. This is what I’m made to do.”

Yoongi takes a deep breath, it’s too damn early in the morning for a conversation like this.

“Neither y/n nor I are expecting any services from you or the others. This house is a place for you to recover and rest.”

Now the wolf looks even more perplexed.

“But y/n is using our services. She let Jin hyung do the dishes yesterday, Jungkook helped move furniture around, and Hoseok hyung was with her all night. So why can’t I make you a cup of coffee every morning?”

Yoongi halts his motions, replaying what he just heard in his head.

Hoseok hyung was with her all night.

Hoseok…the “romantic” hybrid?

No. It couldn’t be.

You wouldn’t do something like that.

“What do you mean he was with her all night?”

“Hyung went over last night. He’s still in the room with her now.” He says if it’s most casual thing in the world.

Yoongi’s legs work faster than his brain at that moment, as he’s already rushing to your door in an instant, leaving an oblivious Jimin to clean up in the kitchen.

He knocks but you don’t answer, so he knocks louder. It’s Hoseok who delicately opens the door, making Yoongi feel like he’s about to vomit the entire breakfast he’s just had.

He practically bulldozes his way in, looking around for you before hearing the water running from the bathroom.

“Y-y/n is in the shower. D-did you need anything, Sir?”

“Don’t call me Sir.” He snaps.

Hoseok doesn’t know what to do. This is his first time talking to this man, and it’s clear he’s already in his bad graces. It feels as if his feet are stuck in one place.

“What happened last night, between the two of you?”

Hoseok knows it’s wrong to lie, especially to a guest brought by his owner. He knows he should say what really happened: how you and him slept on opposite sides of the bed and didn’t even touch the entire night, how he didn’t even have a single thought of touching you nor the desire to have sex with anyone anymore—but how could he, a romantic, trained to do just that, admit this? How could he admit it to himself, let alone Yoongi?

So he doesn’t.

“I-I w-was g-good for her the whole n-night. She was happy with my s-service.”

What the fuck y/n.

Yoongi’s seeing red, leaving the house as soon as possible and not sparing Jimin a single glance as the wolf exclaims a “Have a good day at work!” on his way out.

___

Something feels off when you text Yoongi this morning. He’s usually not the most expressive texter, but his tone feels cold even for him. So you ask if he’s free for a call, which he says he’s too busy for. That’s the second red flag. Yoongi never declines your calls unless he’s with his mother in the hospital.

Maybe there’s problems with her health again? Maybe it’s got him distracted at work?

Your worries keep you too occupied to realize how eagerly Jimin is standing there, waiting for praise for his creation. It’s only when the wolf’s nervous fidgeting becomes unavoidable do you look up and get the cue.

“Thank you so much for breakfast Jimin. It was delicious.”

His heart swells at the compliment.

“Did Yoongi eat this before he left?”

He nods.

“How did he seem? His mood, I mean.”

Jimin stares up for a moment, recalling the interaction.

“He seemed okay? He said he liked the food, but then he got up really quickly to go somewhere…back to his room I think? I’m not sure. Then he left the house really fast.”

“I see.”

You wrack your brain, trying to think of what could have happened in the morning. But you have to remind yourself that it’s Yoongi, and one thing about Yoongi is that he opens up on his own terms—something you both have in common—so all you can really do is wait until he’s ready to talk about whatever’s on his mind. Hopefully it’s something you can help out with.

“Is everyone else awake? Have they already had breakfast?”

“We’re allowed to have breakfast too?” His pupils dilate at the thought. No one thought breakfast would be on the table when you were already being so generous with lunch and dinner. He’s been staring at each pancake he’s flipped, desire in his eyes as thick as the maple syrup he drizzled.

“Yes Jimin, breakfast is for everyone here.”

“I’ll get the others right now! Thank you so much!”

You watch fondly as he does a half-walk half-skip out of sight.

“Guys! Y/n said we can eat breakfast, come on out!” It doesn’t take long until the four from the hybrid room come out, and Hoseok makes his way out from your room, instantly receiving proud looks and pats on the back from his packmates.

“What did she say about last night?!” Taehyung wastes no time in inquiring from his hyung.

Hoseok chuckles nervously, wanting nothing to get the five pairs of eyes off of him.

“She was very satisfied.” The words are bitter as they leave his mouth.

“I knew it! No one can resist our Hobi! Good job hyung!”

Namjoon is simultaneously relieved yet disappointed. Relieved that there’s a chance to stay, but disappointed with himself that he couldn’t step up and be the reason. He can’t help but feel like he let Hoseok down by relying on him. He’s the Alpha. He’s supposed to be the reliable one.

“Come on guys, let’s go eat.”

___

“Thank you so much for the meal y/n. We’ll wash up first then assist you in any way you need.”

“You can use the other three vacant bathrooms if you don’t want to wait on each other. There’s fresh towels under each sink.”

“Oh just one bathroom is enough. We’re used to showering together.”

You don’t miss the way Jungkook recoils at the mention of a shower.

“Jungkook doesn’t like showers. He prefers baths.” You state matter-of-factly, surprising Namjoon.

Has his pup been going around demanding things from you? He knows better than to do that.

Jungkook writhes under his Alpha’s gaze, unable to handle disappointing him.

He knows he’ll have to go back to showers with the others now, but there’s a selfish voice in the back of his head wishing he didn’t.

“He’s fine with showers, aren’t you Koo?”

Jungkook nods quick, but you’re not buying it.

“Jungkook, don’t lie to me. Are you sure you’re okay with taking a shower?”

His throat goes dry. He can’t lie to you but he also knows what he’s about to say will disappoint his packmates—make him look like a spoiled brat.

“N-not really. I-I’d like to take a bath please—if that’s allowed.”

“Jungkook. We are not going to waste y/n’s water by washing up separately. You know better.” Namjoon’s voice is low and solemn, making the other hybrids watch with bated breaths. He feels bad, knowing why Jungkook is so afraid. The labs used to only let them have freezing cold showers. The researchers didn’t like how he would shiver in the stall, something the rest were much better at controlling. They called it misbehaving and made him stay behind to hose him down with even colder water.

So, no one really blames Jungkook for not wanting to take a shower here, but it’s about principle. Sure, it seemed you were lenient enough to let Jungkook have his way on some matters, but that was when it was just the two of you. What if the others follow his example and start asking for special treatment? There’s only so much you’d allow before getting fed up with them. No, he has to snip it off at the bud, make sure everyone is behaving perfectly for you.

Jungkook’s floundering, looking for any way out, but thankfully you step in.

“It’s okay Namjoon, really. Everyone’s free to use either one, and please feel free to take individual showers. You could each take twelve hour showers and I’d still have more than enough money for the water bill, I promise.”

Namjoon examines your face carefully, seeing nothing but sincerity.

“Are you sure?”

“One thousand percent.”

The atmosphere lightens up enough for Taehyung to speak up from the back.

“W-what about warm water? Is that okay?”

“More than okay.”

Namjoon looks at you with a sliver of solace, but still on guard for the slightest hint of a trap.

___

The rest of the day goes by with the hybrids focusing on little tasks you’ve allocated.

Jungkook’s still making his way through Extraordinary Woo, Hoseok joining in with his own little notebook. You still can’t look the older one in the eye after last night, feeling like shit for even considering what he was offering you. Thank god you snapped out of it quick, or you could never forgive yourself. You still need to find a good time to sit them around and tell them nothing happened; as dumb of a decision you made to let him sleep over, the last thing you want is for anyone to actually think you did anything more than just sleeping. Every time you tried to bring up the topic at breakfast, however, Hoseok asked you some other question to distract you, never quite letting you get the words out.

Jin, Jimin, and Taehyung are tucked away in an abandoned study room, organizing your extensive book collection. It was Jin who suggested it, having his hands itching to clean the moment you showed the room during last night’s tour. It’s not hard labor, so you agree to appease them.

Namjoon prefers to keep by your side in your home office, working on a rather difficult puzzle you laid out for him. It’s endearing to watch his chin protrude as he scans the image on the box and the 250 pieces scattered on the table.

Even though you’re technically on vacation, work never really stops, as evident by the documents that need your approval piling in the database. Yoongi texts you updates of a couple of ventures, but it’s with the same stand-offish tone. It makes you more upset than you care to admit, not receiving his little sarcastic quips throughout the day.

You’re scanning through some current market trends when you receive the call you’ve been dreading: your father. You clear your throat before answering, trying to come off as confident as you can.

“Hello father.”

Namjoon’s ears perk up at that. He knows he shouldn’t use his hybrid hearing right now, keep everything filtered to his immediate surroundings like they taught at the lab (no one likes a nosy pet), but his curiosity gets the best of him. He almost jumps at the yelling on the other side of the phone, your father clearly not happy with you at the moment. He doesn’t make it obvious that he’s listening in, only sparing the shortest glances your way in between the puzzle. Your face is aloof through it all, showing no indication that you’re being so harshly berated at the moment; it’s an expression he’s all too familiar with. It’s one that was trained into him perfectly at the lab; stoic, statue-esque features to never show you’re scared—never show weakness. Namjoon, who’s had it beaten and drugged into him, can’t help but wonder what circumstances made you have the same expression.

You hang up just as calmly as you picked up, only indication of your actual mood being your nervously tapping foot.

“Is everything alright? Anything I can help with?”

He knows nothing is alright, considering you’ve spent the last fifteen minutes with your father telling you how spineless you’re being.

“The people at my company don’t like me right now. If you know how to change that, I’m very much all ears.”

He’s surprised to receive a real answer, expecting you to give him an unconvincing “Everything’s fine” at the best and a “None of your fucking business” at the worst. Not many people actually answer hybrids, he’s learned since entering captivity. In the wild, where no one would dare dismiss a wolf hybrid, he was used to having his thoughts valued at the highest regard. However, the human world taught him quickly that hybrids weren’t meant to be talked to as equals—it will always be a master/pet relationship.

It's been a while since someone other than his packmates have earnestly asked for his opinion.

“Can’t you fire them if they don’t agree with you?”

You smile at him, but not the mocking “that’s a stupid idea” smile he’s used to with humans, but rather a sad “I wish it was that simple” smile.

“As much as it is my company on paper, my father still impacts a lot of the decisions I make. I can’t really fire them for stuff he doesn’t think 'important'. If I do, he’ll fly out to the next shareholder meeting at literal superspeed, I’m sure. If they don’t violate any major laws or policies, I basically have my hands tied. Just have to pretend everything is okay.”

The wolf’s features soften, weirdly understanding where you’re coming from. He feels the same, with his “Alpha” position holding no real value anymore. He’s only the leader of his pack on paper, but it’s you who provides for them. It’s you who they follow.

“That sounds really rough, especially having to pretend you’re okay when you’re not.” He doesn’t know what else to say. He wishes he could give you some genius solution that would prove to you how useful he is, but that’s all that comes out.

“We both do that well, don’t we? I think that’s why I’m drawn to you the most.”

It’s evident on Namjoon’s face that that’s the last thing he was expecting to hear from you—or from anyone really. If you should be drawn to anyone it should be Jungkook with his doe eyes and unadulterated innocence, or Hoseok with his irresistible charisma, or Jin, Jimin, and Taehyung with their soft and loving temperaments. Not him. Not him who’s rough and rigid and the least fun. Not him who does nothing but worry all day yet put up a front that he’s strong and in-charge.

“You seem surprised to hear that.”

“I’m usually not what people are drawn to.”

“People like us never are, are we? I wouldn��t tell my worries so candidly to most people you know, but I see so much of myself in you.”

People like us. Not pet and owner…both people.

Again, he doesn’t know what the right thing to say is.

____

A/N: Hope you are liking the story so far! Please interact if you can 💞 have a great rest of your day!! 🫶🏽

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