#i was saying that money which was never going to be spent would be better used saving the ppl who die of tuberculosis
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Intimacy records
synopsis: what kinds of horny stuff they have in their phones and which is the favorite?
pairing and characters: Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Dr Ratio, Gallagher, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Loucha, Sampo, Sunday (separately) x fem!reader
tw: SMUT, established relationship (marriage/dating), consensual recording of lovemaking, nudes, oral, lingerie, fingering, masturbation, public sex, breast play, shibari/blindfold, sex machine, creampie
word count: 4.3k+ words
Aventurine
Undoubtedly this man has a whole separate folder for intimate stuff. Of course, he demands you send him something on a daily basis - doesnât matter if itâs a quick snap of your choice of lingerie in the morning, or recordings of touching yourself - but never enough to cum, itâs his job. Naturally he loves having reminders of you being at his mercy - thus there are also videos of you both (with primarily established consent). All that to say - he has quite the collection, so itâs really hard to pick a favorite, the most desire-arising one.
Maybe itâs a category actually - self-made media created out of bet. Whoâll cum first? Can you keep going without tearing up from pleasure for longer than 10 minutes? Is he patient enough not to touch your sexy self, while you masturbate in front of him? Who is going to be louder this time? These kinds.
âI hope you are ready to lose,â your lover smirks, making himself comfortable between your legs. Camera floats a little, as you chuckle behind it. With a momentary adjustment, the focus is on his face again and he winks, before turning to trail a little path of kisses across your thigh. The image jumps, when he sucks on the skin, and slightly trembles as you let out a sigh. Then itâs firm, as Aventurine wraps his arms around your thighs, his nose teasingly rubbing against your clit. Suddenly there is a lick, then your breath hitchesâŚ. And then he buries his mouth into your pussy. It doesnât take much time for the image to begin shaking wildly, almost matching your debauched noises. There is squelching, there are award-winning male moans, muffled by your heat, soon there is a hand, your hand, reaching down and grabbing his hair. Phone strangely angles, hardly supported by just one hand, until it falls camera down onto the sheets. After that, there are just delicious screams of yours, chanting the name of your lover and begging him to stop, while he doesnât listen, taking his reward for yet another win.
Yeah, he proved you canât keep the camera focused while he is eating you out in that one. Itâs truly a pity, that more than a half of what was going on, didnât get recorded in image. Maybe next time you'll do better - oh... That's actually not a bad idea at all⌠Looks like you are in for another bet.
Blade
His situation is⌠quite peculiar. First of all, he has so little care for his own phone outside using it to get info for the mission, to the point ANYONE from the Stellaron Hunters can just take it and do whatever with it (Silver Wolf and Kafka practice it a lot). Even your relationship doesnât change it much, he messages you rarely and quite shortly, preferring to save the conversation for personal interaction.Â
However recently, Kafka has been putting a plan into action - the first step of which was banning everyone from getting into his phone (herself excluded). Then sheâd start sending her colleague an occasional picture of a set of lingerie sheâs oh so sure would look wonderful on you. Blade never answers, but he doesnât tell her off either, and by the snooping she knows that the pictures get bookmarked, the links for the shops she attaches are visited, and sums of money are being spent.
Oh, and by checking the chat⌠She knows you get them delivered. Does she text you to shower you with compliments? She does. At first it was a little embarrassing and you asked Blade if he could, maybe, pay better attention to his phone??? But soon, when your lover started showing the telltale signs of jealousy... It became pretty hot (plus praise from THE Kafka? Ego-boosting).
Blade doesnât voice it, but more than seeing you all pretty for him, he loves seeing you ruined for him, and doesnât complain when you ask him to take a picture with your phone of whatever part of you, focusing on the marks, or the torn crotch of your panties, or something alike⌠There are times when he would text you with a simple âsend me pictures with torn stockingsâ or âyesterday. open nipples bra. nowâ , because he knows you have them, and you deliver, because you know he loves them.Â
Has his favorites:
Depicts your thighs, bitten and opened wide, while the black panties are pushed aside to let two thick, scar-covered fingers dive into your pussy.
Your body after one of the sessions - bra roughly pushed down under the mark-covered breasts, panties missing, one stocking still on the leg, but with multiple holes in it, and the other tying your wrists above your head.
A small video you insisted on recording of the man tugging onto your garter belt whenever he wanted your hips to push towards his thrust, threatening for the thin elastic material to snap.
Even though he doesnât save them, he knows how to get an easy access to them, so for Blade it works quite fine (and Kafkaâs plan does too, making Blade look less intimacy-repulsed and spicing up your relationship).
Boothill
A cyborg, whose only human part of the body is the head, and sex life⌠How can this be possible?Â
Oh, trust me, it can. Sure, his bodily reaction differs, but he still is excited to get nudes from you, finally able to express through the text what he really thinks with that foul mouth of his. A voice recording of you dirty talking to him? Awesome. A video? You can bet his engine is overheating and vents are whirring.
But in all honesty, the ones he truly loves and returns to are the recordings of him doing stuff to you. Call him self-conscious, itâs not like he can bite back with a swear, but the reminder that he can bring you pleasure even now is sometimes necessary.
The lights are intimately dimmed, not enough to bring the room into utter darkness. Two bodies are lying almost intertwined with your back turned to the camera. The metal arm of your lover has sneaked under your side and around your waist, fingers digging into the plush glob of your ass, tugging on it, to further the spread which is created by your leg thrown over his hip. Your pussy is perfectly presented to the camera, puffy and slick, with two gray plated fingers massaging it. Digits slide up and down your labia, occasionally staying on the clit, to rub tight circles on it and elicit some sweet moans out of you, only to return to their previous ministrations, dipping the tips juuust a little bit into the quivering hole. Your back arches and body deliciously shivers from the contrast of his cool and your heat, and you softly whine, when he releases your ass cheek to give it a spank and then grab it again, unwilling to let the sight of your cunt escape his phoneâs camera. You whimper something, muffled by his chest, but he remembers by heart what you were begging for. âPlease, put your mouth on me.â He will, in a minute, but right now he pushes both fingers to the second knuckle in, making you jolt in his hold, but not letting you go anywhere.
Itâs captivating, how his inhuman digits disappear and reappear with every thrust he makes; slick-covered they look shiny, as if you polished them, and the cyborg shudders, imagining your tongue running around them. Thatâs one dangerous video, he may just give in to his want to see you and abandon the mission he was assigned toâŚ
Dr Veritas Ratio
Unsurprisingly, Veritasâ phone doesnât contain that much stuff in general. Maybe some downloaded articles, notes to put down later, if he doesnât have a piece of paper at the moment, and very few pictures, mainly of his writings on the chalkboard. Donât be discouraged though, of course he has pictures of you. Some selfies you took after âborrowingâ his phone and ones he doesnât have a heart to delete (but he will scoff at you, should you decide to tease him), and some very well-thought images he took on his own accord - he needs reference for when he decides to let his mind rest from research and focus on sculpting.
And one might think that such a reserved and cold man will not entertain storing anything explicit on his phone. Well, he indeed does not have any pictures and videos saved - if he wants, he can either find what you sent him via your chat or just demand your assistance. However⌠There is something that strangely became his way of concentrating when doing his researchâŚ
âOh! Mh- *thrust* Veri- ohmygod! *thrust*â
âWait- Aaah! I canât! Iâm sore! MmmmMMM!â âNo, you can and you will. Now hold still, I canât eat you out if you keep thrashing around.â âOh Aeons!â
*Slick sounds of you going down on him, gurgling and choking on his girth, occasionally gasping to catch your breath, only to have his cock buried in your throat again*
âBaaaby⌠I miss you so much⌠Can I come to your office? I promise to be good⌠Just need to cockwarm you - nothing else I swear. Let me keep you company pleeease. Imagine how nicely it'd be to have your cock buried in my pussy, while you are working⌠Need to help you with stress-relief, it's gonna feel so-so good.â
âOh fuck, o-oh, love, I'm cumming, I'm cumming, IâmcumMIN-â âNgh, s-soâŚtightâŚâ âAaaaaaah~!â
âVeritas Ratio, if you come home in ten minutes, I will give you a nice massage and then ride you damn cock, till the only thing you can think about is not your work, but me. If you fail to do so though⌠I wonder if my threat to use some toys instead will work. Just know that your wife is very mad. And horny.â
It doesn't matter if the audio was taken while you were intimate or it was something you sent to him and he saved - he thoroughly enjoys everything your voice has to offer to him. And if instead of concentrated it accidentally makes him horny - he'll just play the next one, while undoing his pants.
Gallagher
Oh, this man is a menace. And a huge ass-lover. His gallery is full of pictures of your booty: clothed, just panty-clad or bare. There are shots with your body clearly being bent, ass up and back covered in his load. Videos of him fucking you from behind, with cock sliding in and out of your pussy? Obviously. Recordings of it jiggling as he spanks you? Wouldâve been strange if they werenât there.
However, in that vast collection of his, there is a video thatâs most peculiar - one might say scandalous. It was one of those nights when he took over the bar for Siobhan and you came over at some point, all enticing and so sexy in that little dress of yours⌠He could not resist taking you right there once the establishment was closed. And it got on security camera...
Moans so loud, that they are reaching the recording device, are still of the delicious kind. Your back is arched over the bar counter, arms lifted and wrists tied by none other but Gallagherâs wine-red tie, and held by his own hand for good measure. The front of your dress is pushed down, revealing your pretty breasts, jiggling with every thrust of the manâs hips, and the hem of it has ridden up, baring your stomach and mark-covered thighs. Your lover is barely unclothed, pants and boxers pushed down just enough to free his cock and the tie, obviously, missing. The hand that is not holding your wrists, is grabbing onto your leg, under the knee, lifting it for a better angle, and showing off a lewd detail - your black lace panties hanging on your shin. You are looking positively debauched, and he is no better, groaning and cursing, with an occasional exceptionally rough trust that makes you scream and whine. There are teeth-gritted âslutâs and huskily chuckled âbad girlâs with your pleading âsirâs and âGalâs, all of that deliciously seasoned with the clapping of the wet skin colliding. But nothing beats the moment of you cumming, depicted by no less than three cameras from all of the hottest anglesâŚ
Of course this footage was âconfiscatedâ by him with some dumb excuse for Siobhan (he doubts she believed it, given the knowing look and shit-eating grin she gave him), with all traces destroyed except just one copy thoroughly hidden on his phone. He thinks you two should repeat that - this time, however, heâd love to bend you over the counter with your back facing himâŚ
Gepard Landau
Gepard would die if someone took his phone and got into his gallery. Poor man has to change the password weekly to throw Serval off his case (she was only teasing, but that made her brother paranoid). There is a reason for such behavior - while he is way too sweet and gentlemanly to suggest making sexy pics or, Supreme Guardian forgive, videos, he can't help but to be too whipped for you.Â
This man dutifully saves every single photo and video of yours - nudes included.
You don't send them very often - you don't want to kill your darling husband. But sometimes the yearning is unbearable, and there is a suffocating need to show Gepard what he is missing while away on duty (you always leave a warning message though, so he could check it while alone and undisturbed).
No matter how red and embarrassed he gets, the man timidly admits that he enjoys this kind of attention. He is not beyond the earthly pleasures - he too has a favorite theme, that recently became more present in what you send himâŚ
At first you looked so absolutely cute and domestic with his huge sweater on, the one you personally knitted for him - the beginning of the video didnât look all that different from the photos you sent him just minutes before. But soon it becomes clear why you asked if he was alone, because once you position the phone and climb onto the bed, your full attire gets revealed. White stockings are replacing your usual home pants, and as your fingers grab the hem of the sweater and tug it up, the white panties from a matching set start peaking. The view is both pure and alluring, with the way your legs are spreading wide, and the sweater being pushed further up, baring your braless breasts. The hem gets secured between your teeth and both hands teasingly run down your sides, index fingers drawing circles around the tits, before squeezing them; as one remains right there, the other slowly slides down your stomach, disappearing under the hem of those flimsy panties. Imagination paints wild images - every next is hotter than the previous, and only your muffled moans of his name and rapidly rising chest are indicators of how good you feel with fingers pushing in and out of your pussy. And that damn sweater⌠You are not taking it off.
The Captain of the Silvermane Guards has one guilty pleasure - you, wearing his clothes. Domesticity, longing, finding comfort in something of his touches his heart and heightens his love and desire for you, almost making him consider taking a regular day off.
Jing Yuan
This man literally worships the ground his wife is walking on, so OF COURSE he wants to have as many pictures and videos of you as possible. It gets so boring and lonely when he is at work, after all. But donât be fooled by his sweet and innocent smile, there are not only cute shots of you both or just you, he has sexy stuff too.
Man is obsessed with your chest. Itâs his favorite pillow (thus so many pictures of him snuggling his face right between your breasts), his best stress-relief (photos and short videos of his big veiny hands cupping and squeezing your girls, with an occasional swipe of the thumbs over the erect nipples), his favorite place to leave marks on (no one can see them under the clothes, but just one tug of his finger on your collar and he is met with a delicious sight. Plus the photos he asks to send occasionally).
Loves, loves, loves, purchasing lingerie for you and when you demonstrate your bra-clad tits. He immediately wants them in his face, but there is the phone screen keeping him away.
But oh does he love recordings of playing with them.
Your body is steadily bouncing on your husbandâs lap, creating a beautiful melody of skin slapping against skin. There is an occasional peak of his thick cock, covered in your juices, that immediately disappears again, undoubtedly swallowed by your pussy. One strong arm is wrapped around your waist, supporting you, while the other hand is palming at your left breast. The right one has fallen victim to his eager mouth, lips wrapped around the nipple, sucking on it tenderly, tongue toying with the overstimulated nub. His eyes are half-lidded when he looks up at you, moaning around your breast, when you tug on his luscious locks, trying to push him away, to give you a small rest. He is drawing back indeed, planting a soft kiss to the valley between the jiggling globes, and you sigh in relief, deceived by his affectionate action. Only for you back to arch and mouth hang in a loud moan, when Jing Yuan brings your other breast to his awaiting tongue, dropping both hands to your hips to aid you in speeding up your riding, sensing your nearing orgasm.
Maybe next time you should try recording him making you cum by playing with your chest only⌠Ah, just the thought makes his cock swell.
Loucha
As much as Loucha enjoys your company and more often than not allows you to accompany him in his journeys, there are times when he canât take you with him. Which means he leaves for weeks, or sometimes a couple of months, going through the days without a single touch from you. Before getting into a relationship with you, he could survive without intimacy just fine, but now, since he knows the taste of affection and being spoiled by you, itâs getting hard.
Thatâs when recordings on his phone come in handy, especially when there is no opportunity of a video call to indulge. And there is one he most frequently returns toâŚ
Your chest is rising and falling, pretty breasts with perky nipples brought together by a wrap of a rope. Red and purple marks bloom on your skin akin flowers, some fresh, some from days before. Sweat shines on your hot skin, indicating just for how long the blonde has been torturing you with pleasure and denial. There is a small shake of the video, as your lover is establishing his phone, having just started the recording, and softly making you aware of how good you look - you wouldnât know with that blindfold covering your eyes. Once the angle is perfect - capturing your arms, tied above the head, the arch of your back and thighs pushed together for stimulation, the man is joining you on the bed. It is cock-hardening, how you lift your head to find his lips, when you sense him leaning down, needily allowing him to indulge in a kiss before the game of orgasm denial continues. His hand meanwhile is creeping down your body, starting with caressing your cheek, fingers sliding down your neck, over the swell of your breast, thumb pushing against the nipple, eliciting a moan out of you right into his mouth, and then palm splaying on your stomach, traveling even lower, before it disappears between your thighs.
Loucha is a man of foreplay. There is nothing more satisfying to him, than indulging into your body before sinking his cock into your warmth. He loves making you squirm, completely at his mercy, drawing you right to the edge, and then denying you the sweet release, just to make you yearn, just to stretch the process out.
Sampo Koski
Sampo is nasty and that is not a secret. I am sure, if you were up for it, heâd suggest filming porn just for the giggles (and extra cash, come on, you both are fucking hot). There are teasing nudes and intimate videos, and itâs not a rare occasion of either of you texting the other with some found porn with a caption âletâs try it?â and you do, frequently recording the process to compare later, and claiming that your performance is better.
However, sometimes it tends to not go according to the script (not like you usually have one). Sampo is chaotic and itâs not hard to lose focus with a lover like him, and these exact moments are Koskiâs favorite. Despite being a Masked Fool, during these times he himself looks so sincere, itâs as unnerving, as it is exciting. Rewatching such videos and seeing how you mirror the look in his eyes, giggle with him, even crack a joke, all without ruining the mood - makes him believe heâs found his soulmate (and if you did film porn with him, heâd never share this level of intimacy with your viewers, it solely belongs to you two).
You are giggling, shaking your head with a wide smile, all the while lying on your stomach between his toned mark-covered thighs and leisurely fisting his hard, leaking cock with an angrily red tip.Â
âSampo, please, be a little serious, we are trying to be sexy here.â
âWe are sexy! Whatâs not hot in shaping my and your pubic hairs into the lips?? They could kiss, when we fuck!â
âYou are unbelievable,â you snort, trying to save the last bits of your composure, and leaning forward to mouth at his tight balls. This makes your lover pornographically (how ironic) moan, throwing his head back.
âMmm, yes, right there~ Oooh⌠If am soooo unbelievable, it must mean I am dreamy? How about I bring you to a Penacony, to a Dreamscape? I bet in your dream Iâd be as good in bed as I am in reality.â
Your resolve snaps and you burst out laughing, letting go of his sack and pressing your face to his thigh, shaking, dropping the hand from around his cock. Sampo whines.
âCome ooooon, I was so close!â
âShu-ah-ha-t-ah-uh-p,â you manage through your laughter. The man pouts, but the gaze of mint green is summer-warm as he is looking down at your trembling form. Your voice is pretty, your cackles are pretty, and oh damn he is laughing too.
And these are just the first few minutes of the last video, the thing has a duration of half an hour, so, obviously, you didnât stop there. Thatâs what Sampo Koski loves - no matter how cringe you become, itâs never a reason to stop the whole process. If anything itâs something to spark an even longer and intimacy-filled one.
Sunday
Keeping personal stuff on his phone is quite dangerous, given Sundayâs position. Thatâs why he owns two phones - his work one, and one to mainly contact you, his sister, and a small circle of the most trusted people. He is extremely good at handling the owning of two separate devices, never mistaking one for another, that people are often convinced he has only one.
But itâs his personal cellphone that interests us. Oh, does he have a whole collection of photos and videos of you, one folder in particular hidden just for good measure. Sunday is a collected and regal man, yet it doesnât mean he has a hard time enjoying your teasing. Quite contrary, sometimes he welcomes it, loving the photos you send him from an outing, shopping for clothes, or better yet, lingerie, sending him multiple shots of different sets and asking him which he loves most, and which heâd like to see on you tonight.Â
There are videos too, especially when heâs been extremely busy, and you are oh so needy, sending him short recordings of touching yourself, sighing out his name, begging him to come and help you. However, there is one he particularly likesâŚ
Big silicone cock is being pushed in and out by the machine he purchased for you to quell your need when your husband canât be there for you. You are on your stomach, with hips slightly raised and pushed backwards, chasing the toy, and he can see the perfect outline of your pussy, outer lips swollen and puffy, covered in a sticky substance, opening and constricting in attempts to accommodate the girth. Your moans are sweet, so-so sweet, hitting a high pitch, when the dildo falls out and a thick glob of cum substitute escapes your pussy. And then another, and another, messing your thighs even more, ruining the towel underneath you. Yet you donât stop, reaching behind, and pushing the tip back into your tight warmth, making the toy pick its pace again. Itâs squelching, itâs so dirty, but itâs so hard to look away. You give yourself creampie, after creampie, sometimes stopping to collect the substance and push it inside with your digits, fingering, moaning and whining for your husband, wishing itâs his cum sploshing between your walls, breeding you.
Yes, itâs his favorite, almost 4-minute video. Ever the neat freak, he canât deny you look heavenly when ruined, on an equally ruined bed, begging for his attention and semen. You have to forget about the machine for some time, however, because since then Sunday has been truly devoted to breeding you.
#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#aventurine x reader#aventurine x fem!reader#blade x reader#blade x fem!reader#boothill x reader#boothill x fem!reader#dr ratio x reader#veritas ratio x reader#dr ratio x fem!reader#gallagher x reader#gallagher x fem!reader#gepard x reader#gepard landau x reader#gepard x fem!reader#jing yuan x reader#jing yuan x fem!reader#loucha x reader#loucha x fem!reader#sampo x reader#sampo koski x reader#sampo x fem!reader#sunday x reader#sunday x fem!reader#hsr sunday x reader#moonlit pearl stories
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in the time loop the only way out is to leave her there but you don't ever leave her there, never in the roughly one thousand years you have been in the same day. it is probably like "50 first dates" but you haven't stooped so low as to watch "50 first dates" yet. (but who is to say what another thousand years of the same media will bring to you, maybe you will develop a new taste).
you spent about 200 of these years sulking in a bathtub or on the couch or staring at the seaside. 300 of them have been spent slowly mapping the geographical distance you can actually get before the time loop restarts. you have a list of favorite places: one library in Western Massachusetts called "The Bookmill", which has weird hours and has never raised an eyebrow to you arriving out-of-breath and panting, asking to see a specific book on a specific shelf. There is one beach without a name in North Carolina; it is an accident of geography and ownership title disputes - and it is pristine, untouched, warm and cozy. you've taken her on a lot of picnics there. Acadia National Park. One specific birdhouse in the mountains.
you were stuck in the time loop with the money you entered it with: not enough to rent a private jet. you've robbed a bank a few times, you don't like the way it ends. maybe next century you'll get the hang of it. you don't like the look on her face when you say hang on i have to stop at the bank.
you just have to leave her, and you can go back to being a person again. you took 5 years just catching a flight and sitting in the Grand Canyon. if there's one thing you regret more than anything, it's that you hadn't gotten your passport renewed before this fucking time loop. maybe you should spend some time learning forgery - but also, like, you look like an english teacher. nobody is going to be cool about you asking to see their paper printing machines.
the world is very big. that is one of the things groundhog day gets wrong. there are no consequences, so you have literally all the time (or none of the time?) in the world. in groundhog day, he does a lot of very cool things, but in reality - your muscle memory never gets better. you can't necessarily learn how to play piano or sculpt ice, because your hands never remember the practice. but hey - maybe you'll try violin next. drums. synth.
you can open any door and walk into any conversation. money isn't really an object. you can try every meal off every menu, forever. take her on helicopter tours and into every museum and on every event that is happening right-now at-this-moment. parades and funerals and calligraphy classes.
but you are somewhat trapped by the limitations of your body. if you were reading a book, you still need to get up and go back to the library and find that book again when the day resets. (thank god for the internet). it still takes like 2 hours to board a plane, and then takeoff and landing and traffic. you've gotten off to run around on the freeway. one of the little thankful things: since your brain isn't actually developing (it's a muscle too), the days thankfully don't feel shorter to you. that would be agony.
all you have to do to leave the timeloop is let that man get away with it. that's all. in every version of yourself - forever - you have stopped him.
the problem is that this experience has convinced you of the existence of the human soul. after all, how else are you forming memories? your very cells reset. information has to be transferred somehow. and if timeloops are real, you can convince yourself other magic exists. so you have two choices here: this hell, or the next. there might be a millennia where you have been worn down to the point you can accept fate's decision. this is just not one of them. ironically - she is the one thing you have left.
and besides! if you can't always find something new in your partner, aren't you failing them? there is something new about her, every day with the same morning. every brutal day with the same orange sunset.
after all, you wanted to live with her in heaven, in eternity, and, well - isn't this second-best.
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if it's more Christian than right wing (and you havent revealed yourself to be otherwise) you mayyy gain some more traction by finding the basis for some of your socialism within The Beatitudes. just a suggestion!
It's equivalent parts Christian to Conservative. Generally speaking, I grind against them on both political and religious issues, but use their stance on whichever I'm not talking about to support what I am talking about, generally resulting in catch-22s for them.
#the q's n a's#anonymoose#i was talking just a few hours ago about limiting the wealth of CEOs and such right?#i was saying that money which was never going to be spent would be better used saving the ppl who die of tuberculosis#which a cheap vaccine exists for#than simply to just make a bank account have a bigger number in it#obviously the christian i was arguing against didn't want to go 'well people dont deserve to survive tuberculosis'#its generally things like that which i can use their belief about X to support my idea on Y. though i disagree on X as well#i gotta admit im like the fucken worst person to debate about shit because i LOVE evidence it is my BEST friend#i love having examples and studies and shit to work off of. tends to be people with generally bad idea tend not to be able to support them#not an invitation for any of yall to debate me on shit. im tired now. but just saying generally i debate good.#though because of this some people in that server refuse to talk to me (on spurious grounds - how would i blackmail them over their--#--definition of 'woke'? completely ridiculous reasons to refuse to respond to my questions but i go along with it)#they dont know my dad is trans yet i think#so im BURNING to drop that bombshell on them when they argue into that particular corner
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GOTHAM'S NEW ROGUE 4
Part 3
Danny looks at the guy skeptically. Last time someone approached him, they were Red Robin, Spoiler and Signal. This time, a dude that looks like an average office worker approaches him.
Trickster: Sure, why not?
???: Thank you.
Trickster: So, what do you want with me?
???: Let me introduce myself first. I am Clark Kent. A journalist from the Daily Planet. I would like to ask, is it true that you know Batman's secret identity?
Trickster: You mean those pictures I stole from his wallet? Yeah sure. Why do you wanna know?
Clark: As you know, I am a journalist. And it is our job to find out about news and share it with the general public. I am just thinking, what would you like to exchange for the real identity of Batman.
Trickster: Hmmm..... What price huh? Let me think for a moment.
Danny then continues to eat his food as he pretends to think about Clark's offer. Honestly, he doesn't give a damn about this Clark guy. He is also a vigilante once, so he knows the importance of their secret identities. While slurping away his last coke, Danny gains a very good idea (He thinks it is a good idea).
Trickster: Well, I don't think I would sell the pictures just yet since the card is still useful and I don't need money. However, I have a very interesting topic you can investigate.
Clark: Oh? What is it?
Trickster: Try searching for something called GIW. It is a government branch and I'm sure it will be a hit piece.
Clark: GIW? What is that?
Trickster: Well that's for you to figure out. Oh well. I'm pretty full now. Gotta go now. See you never.
Danny then disappears right in front of Clark before he can do anything. Clark can't even hear or see the kid anymore with his enhanced sense and x-ray vision further cementing that the kid probably has teleportation power.
Danny meanwhile is laying on his makeshift bed while watching the stars after he uses his power to clear the sky thinking what he just did is very smart. Unfortunately, he doesn't know this decision is as good as the previous time he thinks his idea is good.
-1 month later-
Danny is picking up scraps from the junkyard for his next prank. Collecting some toasters, some blenders and even some radios. Danny has spent a lot of time these past few months, tinkering with machines that he practically knows what component is in which appliances.
Suddenly, he sees a very familiar device among the junk. A sleek silver gun with a few green buttons on it. It doesn't have the usual designs that Danny used to see but Danny knows without a doubt in his mind that it is an ecto gun.
The problem is that, the gun is new. Very new. Like it is just created. And that means one thing. A GIW agent is here. Shit! Danny needs to run. But where? He has checked before this but the only place with enough ectoplasm to hide him is either Gotham or Amity Park. No where else in the world has as much ambience ectoplasm to hide him from the ecto detector.
But now that they are in Gotham, he might as well not hide since at such close proximity, the ambient ectoplasm can only hide him if they are not close. Danny is thinking very hard when his ears pick up something. A group of people is coming his way, and from the way they are all carrying heavy devices, they are probably GIW agents.
Danny against his better judgement turns invisible and flies high enough so that if the agents decide to shoot him, he will have time to dodge them. Danny watches quietly as the ecto detector bips faster and faster the more they go to where he is previously.
???: Damn it. I thought this is where Trickster is. But it's just the gun that you lost.
???: Hey, at least we don't need to file reports of missing weapons right? Also, didn't that thing already get set up by the Fentons to find Trickster?
???: It's probably them messing it up. It's not like them messing shit up is something new anyway.
???: Yeah. Let's just say it is a false alarm. I hear the higher ups are thinking of lowering our budgets next year if we don't produce any results soon.
???: Ugghh, don't remind me of that. Not only do they pressure us like that. I even heard that there is some guy that has been snooping around our base, taking pictures and stuff.
???: I hate those reporters. We are trying to do our job and save them from those savages, and yet here they are messing with us. Calling us genocidal maniacs and the second coming of Nazis.
???: If that is not bad enough, they even say that they feel like we should treat the ghost as if they are people. Ghosts are not people! They are merely beast pretending to be someone we used to know and love.
???: I would love to just punch those reporters to the face if not for the fact that Boss ordered us to stay put.
Suddenly their walky talky start to beep.
Walkie-talkie: Agent P, Agent Q. Return to the base of operation immediately. We are receiving visits from the higher ups.
Both of the agents reply with Roger and hurriedly run towards their van and drive off somewhere. Danny looks at them and decides, he has found what his next prank is going to be.
Part 5
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The Maid - Part 2
Socialite!Wanda Maximoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*
Maid!Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*
18+ only, read at your own risk
Word count: 4705
Summary: You are married to a wealthy socialite, but your newly hired housemaid doesnât approve of the marriage.
AN: Thank you so much for the response to part 1! And thank you to everyone who was so patient and understanding for this part taking a while to write. I hope you all like it.
*Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.
Wanda seems to be in a better mood lately, Natasha notices, probably because the two of you rekindled whatever complicated romance you had going on. And as sad and lonely as it had made Natasha feel, at least Wanda was being less rude to her, and that would always be a win in her book.
The grocery trips and errands she sends Natasha on are less demanding, although Natashaâs unsure if sheâs becoming more comfortable or Wandaâs gotten less picky. Wanda still requests Natashaâs help for her weekly meetings, and Natasha cannot understand why someone who is unemployed goes so out of her way to find the most mundane, meaningless things to participate in. But it keeps Natasha paid and busy, and she still gets to see you a few times a week.
âWhat are you doing this weekend, Natasha?â Wanda asks while the two of them are in the kitchen. Wanda is on her laptop while Natasha stands at the counter, cutting vegetables for dinner.
âUmâŚâ Natasha knows better than to tell Wanda the truth, which is that sheâll be sitting alone in her apartment for the next two days and eating ice cream on her couch. âSome friends invited me to go shopping with them at the mall,â she lies. She doesnât have friends and she certainly doesnât have the budget to shop at a mall after all the debt she still owes.
âIâll be gone all weekend with some girlfriends,â Wanda says, not even acknowledging Natashaâs plans, which makes her wonder why she had even bothered to ask in the first place. âIâm not into wine tasting much, but the girls go nuts for it. Iâm just going for the spa at the resort, between you and me.â
Natasha has no idea what to do with this information. But sheâs spared from answering when the garage door rumbles open.
Wanda slams her laptop shut. âOh, Y/N is home early.â She gets up to greet you. Natasha can hear your voices carry through the hall.
âYouâre early tonight,â Wanda says. âI was just telling Natasha about my weekend plans to Vermont with the girlsââ
âYour weekend plans?â you interrupt. âSince when did you have plans to go to Vermont?â Natasha has never heard you sound genuinely angry before. She stops cutting the carrots to focus on eavesdropping.
âCarol wanted to go for her birthday!â your wife says.
âWanda,â you say, your voice lowering. âOur anniversary is this weekend. I booked us a stay at the Ritz and got us tickets to see Wickedââ
âWell, just ask for a refund!â Wanda hisses. Natasha is stunned that this is her first response to forgetting about her entire anniversary with you. âAnd we can celebrate when I get backââ
ââGet back?ââ you repeat. âThatâs not the point, Wanda. Why donât you ask for a refund for your tripââ
âI canât do that to the girls,â Wanda says. âCarolâs been looking forward to this for months!â
You mumble something that Natasha canât hear. She feels awful for you. Clearly, you had spent a lot of money and time planning a nice outing, and your wife didnât seem to care one bit. In fact, she tried to put the blame on you for intruding on her plans. Natasha felt herself shaking with rage for you. You deserved so much better.
The two of you trudge into the kitchen and Natasha hastily goes back to cutting the carrots. Wanda is hanging onto your arm, tiptoeing to whisper into your ear but you shake her off and walk through the kitchen to the staircase. Natasha knows that Wanda is glaring at the back of her head, probably upset that she had overheard, but for once she doesnât say anything and disappears after you.
The mood is particularly subdued when Natasha serves up roasted salmon with a colorful vegetable medley and mashed potatoes.Â
âThank you, Natasha,â you say as she hands you a loaded plate.Â
Wanda doesnât say anything when Natasha gives her a plate.
While the two of you eat in awkward silence, Natasha cleans up the kitchen, her final task of the day. She grabs her purse and heads towards the door, when she hears footsteps behind her.
Itâs you.
âCan I walk you out to your car?â you ask. âI know itâs a safe neighborhood, but I donât want you walking out in the dark by yourself.â
Natasha is so flattered by your offer she doesnât stop to consider how Wanda might feel about this.
âSure, I really appreciate that. Thank you.â She leads the way out of your house.
âSorry you always have to park around the corner,â you add, maintaining a respectful distance from her on the sidewalk. âIâve told Wanda the whole neighborhood knows you work for us. But sheâsâŚâ you trail off, clearly not wanting to speak ill of your wife.
âIâm sorry she forgot your anniversary,â Natasha blurts out.Â
You seem startled that Natasha had been eavesdropping, but quickly recover. âWell, itâsâŚitâs not the first time sheâs done it,â you admit in a soft voice. âI donât know why I bother trying to do anything special anymore. Itâs just another day to her. And it seems like sheâd rather spend it with anyone but me.â
âSheâs missing out,â Natasha says, surprised by her own confidence. âYouâre a wonderful person and you deserve someone who will appreciate the efforts you go to celebrate important milestones like that.â She stops before she can offer herself up.
âOh. Well, thank you. Thatâs very kind of you to say.âÂ
The two of you stop at Natashaâs beat-up Nissan.Â
âThanks for walking me to my carââ she starts.
âAre you busy this weekend?â you ask suddenly, in a rushed whisper as if Wanda is around the corner listening. âIf youâre not, would you like to see Wicked with me at the Gershwin Theater? I told Wanda I could probably get a credit with the Ritz, but I donât want to deal with the hassle of exchanging the tickets, too. You can come over Saturday night and Iâll drive us?â
Natasha is so shocked by your proposal she doesnât even have the words to agree at first. Growing up, she had loved watching musical movies until the VHS tapes wore out, but she had never had the opportunity to see a live performance. Even now as an adult, she still didnât have the time nor the budget to see a show. To hear you ask that you wanted her to join you, when you had bought the tickets for you and your wife to enjoy on your anniversary she had forgotten, sounded almost too good to be true.
But if Wanda found out you had taken Natasha instead of herâŚNatasha shuddered at the thought. Maybe this was stepping over the line of professionalism. Natasha wanted to keep her job (and her head), and as much as the opportunity was a dream come true for her, she didnât want to take advantage of your kindness or weakness.
âUm, Iâm supposed to go shopping at the mall with some friends on Saturday,â Natasha says, cringing at the patheticness of her life. âBut reallyâthank you for inviting me. Iâm sure you have friends youâd rather take over your maid.â
âI donât have any friends,â you say, so deadpan that Natasha almost laughs but quickly turns it into a cough when she realizes youâre being serious. While you seemed more reserved than your wife, Natasha refused to believe you didnât have a strong social network. You were in charge of your own company and clearly doing well if you lived in this neighborhood and could afford a personal housemaid like her.
âGood evening!â The two of you startle when a cheery voice comes out of nowhere.
âHello, Mr. Vision,â Natasha says, spotting the eccentric man first as he walks by at a rapid pace.
âLate night walk, Vis?â you call out, and he nods with a wave, pumping his arms faster and milling away. The only thing Natasha knew about Vision was that he lived by himself at the end of the street. He had no wife or kids that she knew of, not even a job as he was constantly seen walking around the neighborhood at odd hours. But he never approached Natasha or made her feel uncomfortable, which was more than she could say for most of the people living here, so she was happy to ignore him.
When Vision moves out of sight, you say, âWell, if your plans happen to changeâŚâ You fumble in your pockets awkwardly, pulling out a bent business card and handing it to Natasha. âMy cell number is on there. Text me before Saturday if youâre still interested.â Â
âOkay.â Natasha doesnât want to get your hopes (or hers) up, but she still isnât convinced this is a good idea. âHave a good night, Y/N.â
âGood night, Natasha.â
She loves the way her name sounds coming out of your mouth.
***********************************************************************
Natasha is still unsure she made the right decision to turn down your offer to see Wicked. She even called her only friend, Clint, to ask if she shouldâve said yes.
âWell, youâre just seeing a show together. Think of it like a work bonus or something. Bosses give their employees nice stuff like that all the time,â Clint says as Natasha picks at a box of takeout in front of the television. Cooking at home was not her favorite chore after doing it all day for her clients.
âYes, but itâs just the two of us,â Natasha stresses. âY/N got the tickets to celebrate an anniversary and Wanda already hates me as it isââ
âNah, she doesnât hate you,â Clint says.
âYou havenât met her! You donât see the way she treats me.â
âExactly. Maybe this is Y/Nâs way of apologizing for her behavior,â Clint says.
âI donât knowâŚâ It was already Friday night. Natasha didnât have much time now to change her mind if she was going to.
âBe nice to yourself, Nat. Let someone do something for you,â Clint goes on. âYou work so hard for these people all the time. And I know how much youâve always wanted to see a live performance.â Natasha feels tears well up in her eyes. She wishes Clint was here in person so she could give him a hug. âNothing bad will happen. Just tell Y/N you want to go before someone else takes your spot.â
Natasha takes a steely breath. Clint is right. It wasnât a date. It just was her nice boss treating her out to a Broadway show. Never mind the fact that you had intended to take your wife initially. Wanda would never have to know, right?
âOkay. Thanks, Clint.â
âEnjoy!â
As soon as she hangs up, Natasha goes into her texts. She already created a contact for you the night you gave her your business card. Her anxiety is through the roof as she types out a message to you, then deletes it and starts over. She gets more and more frustrated trying to find the right words, before she finally throws in the towel and clicks âSend.â
Less than a minute later, you respond.
Happiness explodes inside of Natasha. She can hardly believe her luck. Not only does she get to see her first Broadway show, but she gets to see it with you, and have dinner on top of it. She darts over to her closet, looking for the nicest dress she owns.
Wanda be damned. Natasha was going to have a great night with you.Â
***********************************************************************
âTable for two, please.â
âDid you have a reservation?â the blonde woman at the podium asks.
âNo,â you respond.
âOh, well, Iâm so sorry, but weâre all booked out for the evening,â she apologizes.Â
Natasha stands behind you meekly. She canât even pronounce the name of the restaurant and doesnât know what kind of food they serve, but itâs probably far beyond anything she could ever afford. Sheâs wearing a dark green dress that almost reaches her ankles and is conservative in protecting her assets, and spent over an hour doing her makeup, and she wonders if strangers will look at the two of you and assume youâre a couple. She wouldnât go out of her way to correct them.  Â
âThatâs okay. This was a last-minute plan for us,â you explain. âIf Tony is working tonight, can you please tell him Y/N stopped by to say hello?â
âWait, you know Mr. Stark?â the woman pales. âDonât go anywhere. You said your name is Y/N?â
You smile and nod. The woman steps down from her podium and dashes into the back.Â
âI thought you said you didnât have any friends,â Natasha boldly teases.Â
You turn and wink at her.Â
âTony and I went to college together,â you explain, although this implies you shared a friendship of some kind. âAnd clearly, his business is doing better than mineââ
The woman quickly returns with a short bearded man wearing a gray suit with red-tinted glasses that match his tie.Â
âY/N!â Tony shouts, embracing you in a dramatic hug. âYou shouldâve told me you were coming tonight! I couldâve put together a private booth in the backââ
âIt was last-minute,â you say. âThis is Natasha, by the way. Sheâs a friend.â Natasha is thrilled at the way you associate her with you.
âHello, Natasha, Iâm Tony.â He takes her hand and gently kisses her knuckles. He doesnât seem surprised you havenât brought Wanda along instead. âI take it you havenât been here before, Miss Natasha? You wonât need a menu, Iâll have the chef bring out the best dishes we have tonight.â
âThatâs very kind of you,â you say.Â
âFollow me! You can have a table in our east wing. Whereâs Wanda?â Tony says rapid-fire, turning around and leading them deeper into the restaurant. You step out of the way and motion to let Natasha go first, and she feels your hand graze her back as she walks past you.Â
âSheâs out with her girlfriends for the weekend,â you answer from behind Natasha.Â
âYour anniversary is coming up, right?â Tony asks.
âYes,â you respond, your voice suddenly tense.
The restaurant is packed, every visible table filled with customers, until they turn around a corner to a quiet, completely empty area.
âPick any table. Iâll have a waiter come out with some drinks shortly,â Tony says.
âThanks, Tony.â
âThank you, Tony,â Natasha echoes, unsure if she likes this special treatment. You pick a table near the corner and pull her chair out for her. As soon as the two of you are seated, a waiter in a vested suit appears with a few bottles of wine, making suggestions and pouring samples into the glasses. Natasha doesnât have enough knowledge to understand what heâs saying or differentiate the tastes, but she enjoys the experience. It feels strange to have someone serve her, when sheâs normally the one waiting on peopleâs every demand.Â
The two of you share several appetizers together. Natasha feels like sheâs floating in a dream. You have been nothing but generous and respectful to her, but every time your left hand reaches across the table for the caviar, the wedding ring on your finger taunts her.Â
The dinner itself is a four-course affair, including a rich chocolate cake that Natasha devours faster than she can fully enjoy. When the bill arrives (which Tony has already chopped in half), Natasha still asks if she can chip in (despite knowing full well she doesnât have the money to cover even her portion), but you push her card away and give the waiter your black card.
The theater is three blocks from Tonyâs restaurant, so you leave your car in valet parking and ask Natasha if sheâs okay walking. She had not planned ahead very well, so she only has a thin cardigan to cover her shoulders. You notice her shivering and offer her your heavy black jacket that completely engulfs her frame. Your scent completely surrounds her now and Natasha swears she wonât wash this dress ever again.
The line into the theater moves quickly and Natasha follows you all the way down to the front, where your seats are perfectly center to the stage. She crawls over a few people, feeling a little smug about getting some of the best seats in the house. You had truly spoiled her tonight and she was never going to forget this.Â
She leans over to whisper to you before the show begins. âThank you for everything tonight. Iâve already had so much fun and the dinner was amazing.â
âYouâre very welcome. Thank you for joining me, and thank you for all the hard work you do for my family,â you say and Natasha beams. âMe and Wanda really appreciate it.â Natasha deflates a little at the mention of your wife, but she pushes her out of her mind to focus on her time with you.Â
As they wait, Natasha props her arm up on the armrest between you two so she can hold the playbill at a comfortable angle to read. Suddenly, your arm drops heavily on hers and she looks at you in confusion. Youâre reading your own playbill and donât seem to notice that your massive arm is practically crushing hers.
âUm, Y/N?â she prompts, clearing her throat.
âHmm? Oh!â You quickly move your arm off hers. âIâm so sorry, I thought that was Wandaâs arm,â you explain with a nervous chuckle. Natasha laughs too, although she isnât sure if she should be happy or worried that she reminds you of your wife. Sheâd be happy to take Wandaâs place any day, though.Â
The musical is amazing, impressive beyond anything Natasha had ever expected. She cries when Elphaba defies gravity, and after the whirlwind of the second act, she is among the first to give a standing ovation. Sheâs floating on cloud nine as she walks with you out of the theater back to the car.
The drive back to your home is quick at the late hour. Just as you're about to pull into the driveway, you slam hard on the brakes, jolting everyone forward. Vision power walks past the beams of your headlights, only breaking the pump of his arms to wave in thanks.
âWhat is he doing out so late?â you ask, and Natasha is relieved to know sheâs not the only one who thinks his habits are a bit odd.
âNo idea,â she mumbles, watching you pull onto the driveway and stop.
âThank you so much, Y/N,â Natasha says, still giddy with excitement.âThis was the best night of my life. Iâve always wanted to see a Broadway show, ever since I was a little girl. I never thought Iâd get the chance, even after I moved hereââ
âYouâre very welcome,â you interrupt, seeming almost shy with the praise.
âIâm sorry Wanda wasnât able to join you for your own anniversary,â she adds, although sheâs not sure why.
You shrug. âNothing we can do about it now. Besides, Iâm glad you were able to join me and had such a fun night. I donât think this would have been nearly as fun by myself.â
There is a pause and Natasha has to force herself to stop looking at your lips. If she had no self-restraint, it wouldnât have taken much for her to lean over the center console and kiss you.
âHave a good night, Natasha. Drive home safely,â you say as the two of you get out of the car.
âThank you again!â Natasha doesnât even listen to music on her way home, riding out the high of what was easily one of the most memorable nights of her life in over a decade.
***********************************************************************
A few weeks later, Natasha is working a double shift: the first one at Steveâs house, and the second at yours. Youâre away at work, as usual, but she knows youâll be home before she leaves for the day, and she never takes any glimpse of you for granted. Wanda is also back to being demanding and cranky, and Natasha has no idea if you told her about the night the two of you had together. She had felt the silent instruction from you not to blab about her taking Wandaâs place and was happy to keep the memories to herself.
Sheâs in the front hall, mopping while quietly humming âDefying Gravityâ to herself, when Wanda clacks by in high-heels.
âNatasha!â she hisses. âDidnât I tell you to start in the kitchen? If I slip out here because the floor is wetââ
âSo sorry!â Natasha apologizes, hoping that she doesnât finish her sentence. âIâll put a fan on.â She rests her mop against the wall and darts off for the $300 Dyson fan in the closet. After pointing it towards the gleaming floor, she pushes her cart into the kitchen and continues mopping. She makes sure to open the window to air out the smell, and notices Steve across the street mowing his lawn.Â
She stares at him, wondering if he can see her, and her question is quickly answered when Steve waves to her. She returns his wave with a smile, then goes back to her task before Wanda can complain she isnât working hard enough. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees him back away from his lawn mower and answer his phone; he disappears into his house hurriedly.Â
âNatasha! Always make sure you open a window when you mop!â Wandaâs screech comes out of nowhere. âThe chemicals you use give me a headache!â
âOh, but the window is openââ Natasha tries to explain, but Wanda silences her with a wave of her hand.
âIâm on the phone!â she says, pointing to the cell phone held up to her ear. Natasha bites her lip, but holds her tongue. âSorry, honey, what was that? No, I was talking to the maid,â she says. Natasha perks up despite the way Wanda titles her. Youâre clearly on the other line, and maybe youâll be home sooner than expected.
But Wanda disappears into a guest room (your house had so many of those), and Natasha can no longer hear her conversation. She dutifully continues to mop the floor, careful to fan the mop in a semi-circle pattern so as not to trap herself in a corner. She moves the chairs to the hallway one at a time, cursing their awkward shape that makes them difficult to carry and taking special care not to scrape the feet along the floor.Â
Wandaâs shrill voice carries through the house again, this time covering a topic that makes Natashaâs cheeks heat up.
âOh my God, yes, Iâm still thinking about last night,â Wanda says. âWhen you had my legs behind my headââ
Natasha tries not to picture Wanda folded up like a pretzel while you plow into her. But she can imagine herself in a similar position (sheâs not so confident in her own flexibility, but sheâd make it work for you). Your hands could probably fit around her whole thighs as you push her legs apart wider, thrusting your hips in long strokes to fit your big dick into her. Natasha is embarrassed to admit that the last time she had masturbated, she had thought of you the whole time.
How much more youâd fill her compared to the flimsy toy she was using. How you would feel throbbing inside her, your body pressed hot and heavy against hers as you beg for her permission to finish. Imagining having you like that, with that kind of control, brought Natasha to the most amazing orgasm of her life. If only you had been there to share it with her.Â
âI didnât know if youâd be able to go another round, but you proved me wrong,â Wanda continues, and Natasha picks up on how breathless she sounds. She wonders if sheâs touching herself right now, with Natasha mopping in the kitchen. Somehow, that wouldnât be shocking to her. âYou were still so hard when I put you down my throat.â
A lightning bolt of arousal strikes Natashaâs core. She canât focus on mopping anymore, staring blankly out the kitchen window, lost in the new filthy fantasy playing in her head, guided by Wandaâs narration.Â
Natasha lies between your legs, her lips barely brushing your hips as she takes your cock down her throat. She prays her gag reflex doesnât protest at the obstruction in her airway, but despite the slight discomfort, she wants to do this all day. Your pants and moans are like music in her ears, urging her on to suck harder and take you deeper.
âPlease Nat,â your voice wavers. The muscle fibers in your thighs are visibly tensed and your back arches off the bed when Natasha pushes your hips down, trying to maintain some kind of control over you. But your body seems to have a mind of its own, with only one goal in mind.Â
âItâs almost like I can still taste you.â
You poke at the back of her throat and Natasha can feel the hot throbbing of your cock in her mouth. Sheâs so eager to swallow anything youâll give her, sheâs almost embarrassed in her desperation, but when your hands cup the back of her head, pushing her down so she can fit the last inch down her throat, she knows the two of you are on equal planes of passion.
Your entire body flexes and the anticipation for Natasha is overwhelming. You finally inhale sharply as the first hot spurt lands on her tongue.Â
âBeing on your knees for me is a good look for you.â
Natasha tips her head back against the wall, her fingers tangling in your hair. One of her legs rests on your shoulder while the other is spread far apart so you can kneel between them, your mouth pressed against her heat. Your tongue swirls around her clit and Natasha fears she wonât be able to stay standing much longer.Â
âY/N,â she pants, clutching your head tighter and rocking her hips forward. âI need you.â
Your fingernails dig harder into her thigh to still her. You look up into her eyes and Natasha thinks sheâs going to finish right there. âYou have me, baby. Iâm all yours.â
âBut thereâs really only one place you belong.â
âFuck, youâre so tight,â you grunt, almost sending Natasha headfirst into the headboard with every one of your thrusts. âI could stay inside you forever.â
Natasha hums at the praise. Sheâs holding on the bedsheets for life, spasming and clenching around you, trying to pull you in deeper. You fill her so perfectly, sheâs convinced her body was made for yours.Â
âTell me Iâm better than her,â Natasha gasps, fighting to delay her own release.
âFuck Wanda,â you grunt, pulling back on Natashaâs hips at the same time you thrust forward, burying your entire length into her. âI love you, Natasha. Youâre the only one I ever want to be with.â
A noisy car engine pulls Natasha out of her head. Her face feels flushed with arousal, and she knows what sheâs doing the second she goes home. Your green car suddenly pulls into the driveway but stops. You get out and walk to the street, grabbing one of the trash bins and pulling it towards the house.
âI canât wait for you to fuck me again,â Wanda says in the background.
The realization crashes down on Natashaâs head like a cold shower. She watches you grab the second bin with both hands, carefully walking backwards with it.
Youâre not on the phone and youâre standing 30 feet away from Natasha. If Wandaâs not on the phone with you, then who is she talking to?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
AN: Who do you think Wanda was talking to? đ
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falling anyway / Aaron Hotchner
summary. hotch knows he shouldn't fall for the babysitter. but sometimes things are meant to be.
words count. 3 603
what to expect. fluffy and flirty, age gap but reader's age is not tell she's a student, jack is mentionned obivously
a/n. this is way longer that i thought it would be but i didn't want to say goodbye to this story, i want to write so many things about hotch and the babysitter so i hope you will love their story too đĽš
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There were different things that could make up for the terrible week youâve spent.
Spending a chill day watching your favorite TV show.Â
Seeing your friends for a coffee or a drink.
And taking care of Jack Hotchner was also a solution.
Youâve been babysitting Jack for six months now. You needed a new part-time job; Aaron Hotchner, one of your fatherâs colleagues, needed a new babysitter. The deal was done.Â
Youâve never seen a kid so easy to take care of. Usually, you and Jack shared the same routine: you helped him with his homework, and he helped you make dinner. You would play some games and then show him a movie from your list of favorites from your childhood. Harry Potter? Done. Narnia? Too. Back to the future? To be done.
You were this close to calling him your best friend at this point. To be honest, you missed him when you werenât babysitting him.
With Hotchâs job, your presence wasnât so linear. When he had to leave for a few days, Jack was staying with the family. Days when he was still paying you. âItâs my fault youâre not working; I donât want you to have financial issues,â he said when you fought to give him the money back. You felt like taking advantage of the situation, and you hated that. But you quickly learned that there was nothing you could do when Aaron Hotchner had decided something.Â
Not that you really mind the whole commanding trait.
âIâm sorry to ask you that,â you heard Hotch say on the phone. From the noises around, you guessed he was in his car.
Your Friday night plan was to stay home and forget about your week.Â
College was awful; you got bad grades in one of your favorite classes, and your date stood you up and ghosted you. But when Aaron Hotchner called you in a last-minute emergency, you found his plan way better than yours.
âThis is an important dinner; I canât excuse myself from going. I know itâs last minute, butâŚâ You put him on speaker. His voice becomes a part of your get-ready playlist.Â
âAaron,â you interrupted him. His name always felt like candy on your tongue. One that youâre not allowed to have, making it taste even sweeter. âIâll be there in twenty; is it good for you?â
Then there was a silence that made you wonder if he even heard you. Then two words. âThank you,â and silence again after he hung up.
You barely ever had any discussion with Hotch since you started working for him. Apart from the classic news from life, you never said much, and neither did he.
Jack, on the other hand, was a heavy speaker. It was thanks to him that you learned things from Hotchâs life: how work was taking much of his time and how he was barely going outside of it, which team he supported, or what kind of music he played in the carâbut only when Jack was there.
You could only guess what he told his father about you in exchange.
When you arrived at Hotchâs place, he was the first thing you saw. On the phone, he was leaning against his car. His open suit jacket was flying with the wind, opening to his muscular chest and dad bod you could see through his shirt. And thinking about that, you realized how clichĂŠ you were for dreaming about the father of the kid you were babysitting.
But youâve been on that road for so long now that you didnât know the path to go back. Nor did you want to take it.
When Hotch saw you, he gave you a very short smile. He put his hand up, asking you to wait for him. And you did. Of course you did. You tried to focus on something to not overhear what he was saying, but it was hard when his voice sounded like a melody in your head.
His âbyeâ sounded like a secret code, and you finally let yourself turn to him. âThank you again for coming.âÂ
Hotch never really knew how to act around you. He was your boss, technically, but he couldnât act as he was with the team. He didn't mean to sound too friendly or nice so you wouldnât imagine things. He didnât want you or your dad to hear that he was being flirty with his daughter or for Jack to lose you.
And this conflict was obvious in many situations. The way he moved his hand up showed he intended to shake yours before changing his mind and putting it on your shoulder. A greeting and thanking at the same time.Â
âI should be the one to thank you,â you replied with a laugh. âI needed something to change my mind, and Jack is perfect for this.âÂ
You noticed the change in his expression when you said that. Clearly putting him in the investigator mode. âAre you alright?â Maybe you dreamt it, but for a second or two, his fingers were holding your shoulder tighter.Â
From the little time you spent with Hotch these past months, you thought he didnât know you enough to care or to notice it anyway. Clearly putting aside the fact it was his work to see these kinds of things. So you simply brushed it off before he left, saying it was nothing important.
But Hotch did. He noticed the dark rings under your eyes or how you seemed to shine a little less than the other days. You were always so bubbly; sometimes you even made his day brighter with the little attention you seemed to give naturally. Like a much-needed smile, questioning him about his day or offering him a cookie from those you made with Jack earlier. Cookies that were staying at his place and that he could have taken himself. But you chose to offer it yourself.Â
And knowing you werenât going well, I stayed with him the whole night. Even during his dinner with high-level agents from the FBI. At some point, he probably even missed some conversations. Too busy trying to understand what could be wrong with you. Or what he could do to help.Â
He knew it wasnât really his place to help you in any way. But something he hated more than overstepping the line was being useless in front of someoneâs bad mood.Â
Hotch didnât come home until midnight. He wasnât surprised to feel the calm inside. Even if Jack was a heavy sleeper, you always put the TV on a quiet volume just to be sure it wouldnât wake him up. You always kept just the lamp beside the sofa to have a warm and cozy atmosphere. And since youâve cleaned the kitchen after dinner, he could smell a mix of dish soap and your perfume in the air.
And like he expected, you were laying on his couch, with a blanket covering your legs, reading the same book he was on.Â
That was a kind of secret but not so secret habit you had. When Hotch noticed once or twice that you were reading the book he inadvertently left on his coffee table, this became a routine. You never talked about it. You both just liked the idea of sharing the same interest.
He stayed in the back, appreciating how peaceful his place was. Until he felt bad about being there without your awareness. So he put his keys in the bowl you helped Jack create for Fatherâs Day, slowly but still loud enough so you can hear it. And it worked.
âDidnât mean to scare you.â Hotch, said, sitting next to you. He put his jacket on the back of the couch; his tie was slightly undone, and you tried not to focus on his undone cufflink too. You had a thing for the way his open sleeves were showing his muscled and hairy wrists.Â
âYou didnât,â you replied, bringing your knees up against your chest. âI'm getting used to hearing you coming back,â you added with a smile. It was only after the words left your mouth that you realized how domestic this sounded. And the little smile on his face let you know that he noticed too.
But that didnât seem to bother him. Or at least, he didnât say anything.
Instead, you watched as he put a doggy bag on the coffee table. âDonât tell Jack, but I brought back the dessert.â He sounded so innocent, like a kid hiding his secret from his parents and not the other way around. You couldnât contain your laugh when you watched him rub his hands before opening the box.
âEnjoy your dessert,â you said with a laugh. You also took that as a sign to leave. After such a long day, you guessed Hotch needed a moment for himself without the babysitter being underfoot. So you got up and took the blanket to fold it when he grabbed your hand softly. And showed you two spoons.Â
âIâm not eating that alone,â he offered, handing you one of the spoons with a shy smile. No words could explain the heat in your heart when you understood he wanted you around.Â
So you sat back, unintentionally closer to Hotch than you were before. So close that you even touched his thigh with yours. You both looked down, and the apologies left your lips quickly, taking enough distance so you werenât this closeto sit on his lap anymore.Â
Looking away, you missed the blush on his cheeks after he lost your contact.
To lighten the mood, you tilted your spoon next to him to toast. When you heard him laugh so softly, like he didnât even mean to, this felt like a victory. As hot as it can look on him, this serious look, you loved to make his day a little brighter.
But this victory was soon over when he turned to you. âWould you like to share whatâs on your mind?â when you frowned, having too much respect for him to talk with your mouth full. âYou said you needed to change your mind.âÂ
You took a moment to think about it. You didnât even remember telling him about that, making you wonder what other thoughts you slipped since you started working for him. Yet, talking to Hotch didnât seem a bad idea. He had this comforting look in his eyes, and you felt safer next to him than you did with most people in your life.
âThatâs stupid,â you started. You noticed the look he gave you; he didnât like the idea of you judging yourself before speaking. But you chose to ignore it and told him about your week. âAnd I think I finally lost hope in love for good.â You finished your story with a sad laugh. Because there was some truth in this.Â
You were met with a silence. But when you turned your head to look at him, you saw that his eyes never left you. âYou do?â he asked in a genuine and sincere tone. One that made you blush. Because a part of you still pretended like Hotch wasnât really listening. It would have been easier to accept that you were opening your heart like that. This explained why you started looking at your cake instead.
âItâs justâŚIâm tired of running after men who clearly donât appreciate me. I keep getting hopeless and sad because dating has become a joke for them. And itâs not one for me. And I just donât know what to do.âÂ
Before you noticed it, you were playing with your cake and reducing it to a pulp. Much like your heart these days.
âI just wished there were more men likeâŚâ You sighed, turning to look at Hotch. He was there, frowning, waiting to hear more. Not prepared for the last word missing from your sentence. âMore like you,â you added.
Hotch froze, his spoon close to his lips. So close you missed the way it curled into a small smile. Both flattered and curious to see where you were heading with this idea.Â
âYouâre great, youâre mature, youâre an amazing father, you know what you want, you take good care of you, of Jack, of this house. And Iâm convinced you can take good care of a woman too. Youâve never been anything but nice and gentle with me, so I can't imagine how great you must be with someone you love.âÂ
It has been a long time since Hotch heard that he might be a great man. Being a divorced, then widowed, single father working too much to the point he had to take a babysitter who was probably seeing his son more than he was wasnât the definition of a great man for him. But maybe he was too hard on himself.
Or maybe you were too kind about him.
And maybe that was the reason it hit him like that. You were the one who said that. Not any woman he might have brought on a date, and probably wonât see again because he didnât feel the connection he was craving for. You. Jackâs babysitter. The woman who hunted his dreams to the point he considered he might need to ask you to stop coming.Â
But he couldnât do that to Jack, who clearly appreciated you a lot.
And selfish, he couldnât do that to himself either. He loved seeing you around. He found some comfort in his crazy and not always so easy life knowing you would be there when he came home.
âIâŚIâm sorry.â You stuttered, getting up suddenly. You needed air. You needed to get out of here before proposing to Jackâs father and getting jobless. And maybe being removed from here, from the city, from the country even! Who knows what the BAU chief can do?Â
This time, you put the blanket away in a messy way. And soon, you were in the hallway, collecting your bag and even chose to put on your shoes after you passed the door to not waste another moment of his time.Â
But right when you were going to open the door, a big, hairy, somehow charismatic hand landed on the wood to prevent it. When you turned, you faced Hotch, who was closer to you than you imagined. âYou mean that?â he asked, confused.
This whole minute of preparing your escape, you imagined he was still sitting on the sofa. Probably eating the part of the cake you left on the table, not bothering about you leaving, and maybe even thinking about the text he would send you tomorrow to inform you of your dismissal.Â
But you certainly did not imagine Hotch would run after you.
âDo you mean that?â he asked again, moving just a little closer to you. But enough for you to feel the desire from his body. You had to tilt your head backward to look at him and suddenly got lost in the beauty of his face. It was the first time you were seeing him like that, and you could be sure that your subconscious would be looking forward to putting this beautiful face in each one of your dreams.
No words left your lips, at first. So you simply nodded. âSay it.â Hotch whispered, bringing his face closer again. You could taste the luxurious wine he drank that night and the sweet dessert you both ate in his breath. And for a second, the single thing on your mind was how good it must taste on his lips too.
âI do,â you finally replied, looking up at his eyes. But his were down on your lips this time.
And after whispering a âgoodâ that you almost missed, his lips finally tasted yours. In the softest and sweetest kiss youâve ever had. There was something in the way Hotch felt almost vulnerable against you, like he didnât know how to act. Yet, the experience was speaking too from the way he put you against the wall, how one of his hands ended up in your hair to grab them just with the right strength: enough to keep still and not hurting you. You were right; that man knew what he wanted and how to get it.
You let one of your hands run through his chest. You grabbed his loosened-up tie to gain a little height. Now that you got it, you wanted more of him.
But the reality hit you at the same time.
Or more exactly, when you heard little steps on the hallway coming to you.
Hotch was fast at stopping the kiss and putting a good distance between the two of you. Yet, he kept his hand on your waist longer. Long enough that when Jack finally appeared, you still felt the touch of his fingers on your skin.Â
âDaddy, youâre home.â Jack said in a sleepy voice, lazily walking to Hotch to hug him. You always loved how Hotchâs whole world seemed to light up every time his son was around. The love he had for him was undeniable.
âLetâs go back to sleep, buddy.â Hotch said, taking Jack in his arms to carry him back to his room. You watched as the little boy put his little hand on Hotchâs back, probably with no strength at all but just with the need to feel his dad with him. Every movement between the two of them seemed so natural.
But before leaving the living room, and probably reading your mind somehow, Hotch turned back to you and whispered, âWait for me, please,â with a tone that clearly indicated it was both an order and a pleading.
So you did. But instead of sitting back on the couch, like he probably expected you to, you took the empty plates and did the dishes. Something you were used to, you did that only a few hours ago. You needed to keep your mind occupied while he wasnât here; otherwise, you couldnât promise you wouldnât run away.Â
You were so focused on what you were doing that you didnât hear Hotch coming back. You just felt his chest against your back when he approached. Thrills grew on your arms when he put his hands on the counter, surrounding you. When you turned your head to look at him, you noticed he had let go of his tie and had opened up the first button of his shirt.Â
âI can call you a taxi,â he whispered in your ear. You lost it at the contact of his lips with your skin. So much that you didnât understand straight away what he said.
You then turned around to face him. âYou kissed me, and now youâre sending me away? You have a weird way to deal with women,â you replied, frowning. You discovered a new expression on his face. A sweet and mostly flirty smile. One that had reached immediately to the top 3 of your favorite looks on him. âI might take back what I said earlier,â you added, yet still placing your hand on his chest. It wasnât your fault; it was calling you.
âI just donât want you to regret what happened tonight and feel pressured to stay here if you donât want to.â Hotch felt like a high school boy who wanted to hide his girlfriend in his bedroom. And if he listened to his heart, he would. It was hard looking at you now that he knew this wasnât all in his head and fantasy.
When he brought a hand to your face to put a strand of hair behind your ear, you cuddled against it. And feeling his thumb brushing your cheek softly was worth it. âYou mean I have to go home knowing I can have this now?âÂ
âI mean, you can stay the following nights toâŚhave this.â He laughed, from the way you both worded it but also from the falsely menacing look you were giving him. You were making it harder for him to let you go.Â
This explained why you stayed longer like this, in the middle of the kitchen. Just talking and flirting until the driver was here. And you both lived through every minute like there was no tomorrow.
âPromise me you will tell me if you regret it.â Hotch said one last time when he opened the door for you. He had to be sure you got in the car safely. He also allowed him to have the option to keep you with him until the last second.
You replied with a kiss on his lips and a âI wonât,â said happily.Â
When he woke up the next morning, Hotch noticed he had a text from you. For a second, he got scared something happened after you went home. He was ready to jump out of bed. But when he opened it, he ended up giggling.Â
âI still donât regret it.â you wrote.
It has been months, probably years, since he felt this lighthearted at the idea of texting a woman. But you werenât any woman. You were you. Probably one of the few people to know him well, except from the team. So maybe it was meant to be. âI donât regret it either,â he replied back. And when he saw the heart you left on the text and the bubble indicating you were writing, he added a new goal to his life: spending more time with you. And who knows, maybe considering that life and love still had some surprises to offer him.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner criminal minds#thomas gibson#hotchner#hotch#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#aaron hotchner fluff#ssa aaron hotchner#bau#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner fic#hotchner x reader#hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner fanfic#thomas gibson x reader#thomas gibson fic#my writing
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Oh, just in passing: a couple of SPOCK'S WORLD notes
(from @magicalgirlcrazycatlady:
!!!!!!! AUDIOBOOK SPOCK'S WORLD!!!! EXISTS? READ BY THOSE TWO?????????
Yep. If you go over to, say, Ebay, you can usually find somebody selling the audiobook on cassette (and if you're very lucky, on CD).
It hasn't been reissued in decades, and I can't really be sure why. It may be that there are union-based (meaning SAG[-AFTRA]) issues with the way Nimoy and Takei were compensated for the original performances; so that if the audiobook was reissued in more modern media, the publisher would have to deal with the way union rules for such performances have changed. (Which might run into serious money.)
In any case, it's a shame it's not more readily available. Both of the gentlemen involved did a fabulous job. I've had the pleasure of telling George so, and I'm sad not to have been able to tell Nimoy the same. (sigh) Anyway, it was a pleasure and a privilege to be involved in the endeavor.
...Also, per @rightspocko:
#oh my god you did that in 2 weeks#and you rewrote it so quickly and itâs still superb!#i never wouldâve guessed because itâs so well structured and well written
The rewrite went as well as it did (and frankly as well as it could have done, under the circumstances) because before I ever started work on that book, I'd written a comprehensive outline.
It's not widely understood, I think, that when you're writing for a big IP owner / licensor, it is impossible to sell them a new project without first writing an outline that makes plain what it'll contain. Pantsingâhowever much some writers may enjoy that mode of novel writing, however much some may feel it to be the superior modeâhas no place in the licensed-universe sales process. No licensor is going to even agree in principle with your agent that you're going to be brought in to do an original novel, let alone write the contract to back up their intent, until you've submitted an outline that tells Corporate in considerable detail what they (and their stockholders) are going to be getting for their money.
In the case of Spock's World, this rule went double, perhaps tripleâregardless of the success of my previous work for Trek and Pocket. Spock's World was going to be their very first ever hardcover Star Trek novel. The whole project was a gamble... and the corporate Powers that Be therefore needed to know exactly what I was going to be giving them. So I did what I usually do for a book of the projected lengthâan outline somewhere in the neighborhood of 20-25 single-spaced pages. (ETA: For the hell of it, I just spent half an hour or so digging around for it, and [at the virtual "bottom" of a storage hard drive] found the ancient .arc file in which it'd been packed away. The outline is dated March 3rd, 1988, and comes to about 22 single-spaced pages. ...Call it 8K words and change.)
The outline, as always, was the "road map" I'd drawn for where I was going, to avoid wasting time in possibly getting lost along the way. All the structural work and serious plotting was already complete in the outline... ready to have the prose racked up in it, as a bookshelf's built ready to house its books.
And that's why the result, despite the near-disaster, still looks okay. All I had to do* was write again what "lost material" I'd already written, with the outline to guide me, or prompt me, where my memory failed. To this day I feel strongly that the book was significantly better because of that second write-through, however enforced. So this whole process turned into kind of a blessing in disguise (despite my poor lower back's more or less constant screams of protest).
That outline was what saved my butt... as others would, in years to come, further down the line. Those interested in having their own butts saved when necessary, and their writing life generally made less stressy, can look over here and see the outlining "blueprint" I use. C. J. Cherryh put me onto it; and what Carolyn doesn't know about writing a well- and tightly-plotted SF novel, seriously doesn't matter.
...And now I'm going to go make some spaghetti sauce. :)
*"All I had to do." CAN I EVEN HEAR MYSELF. (helpless laughter) It was like climbing hand over hand out of hell. But at least I could always see the light at the top of the tunnel...
#Spock's World#writing for licensors#and oh yeah#outlining#facilis descensus Averno#sed revocare gradum#hic opus#hic labor est#:)
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Friends for life

This Zack, my best childhood friend. When we were kids, we were basically inspereable. We spent so much time together. We slept over each tohers houses. Even better was the fact that our moms were best frinds. So not only they spend so much time together, but so did we. But that was 6 years ago. Everything changed when my dad died. Zack was there for me, but over time we grew apart. I had to help out my mum with my two sisters and she had to get another job to get enough money for us. Zack's mom on the other hand got divorced and found a new boyfriend. Who I heard didn't really get on well with Zack.
Me and Zack talked from time to time, but it was mainly superficial. Zack was now a very well respected guy in the school. He was always into sports. But now he was a swimmer, basketball and a football player as well. I don't know where he got all that time and energy. Even if we saw each other in the classroom we just smiled or waved at each other. Maybe even this very tiny friendship was the reason why no bullies dared to touch me. Not that Zack would every bully anyone, but if he knew that the other guys bullied someone, he always stood up for that person and ended it. And the bullies even apologized sometimes. That's how respected he was.
So yeah Zack's a jock and I am a classic nerd. Or maybe not classic. I don't really have much time to play games on the computer because of my job, but when I have some spare time I read comic books. So yeah, that makes me a nerd I suppose. And I do quite well at school too. Maybe not the PE, I kinda suck at that, but I get by.
Present time
Me and several other classmates were assigned to start decorating the halls for upcoming prom. Most of my classmates were really excited for that, but not me. I didn't have anyone to go with. Not anyone I wanted to atleast. Ok, I'll say it. I am gay, which complicates things a bit. And the person I would really like to go to prom with is Zack. But that will never happen. Zack is 100% striaght and it would totally ruin his reputation in the school.

But that doesn't stop me from obssessing about him. I saw him a few times in the locker rooms which gave me a pretty consistent image of how he changed over the years. He was pretty much the same Zack I grew up with, but I bet that his junk is much bigger than I remember. Truth be told, Zack was the first (and only) person who I had any sexual experience with. I know it sounds sus, but he only wanted to experiment jerking each other off as most boys do at their younger years. Back then I was really puzzled and didn't know what to do. Now I just wish I could go back to that moment once again.
I was one of the few remaining students. The rest headed to the shops to get their dresses and suits. I told them to leave and that I would finish it by myself, cause I wasn't planning on going anyway.
I entered the gym to get a ladder, to help me set up the last few letters over the door. And there he was, on the other side of the room. Zack was lifting some weights I didn't even know how to name. He noticed me battling with the ladder nd hurried up to help me. I mean... wouldn't you crush about him too?
Zack:"Hey, man. Nobody came to help you with this? It's pretty heavy."
Me:"Hey, no. They all left to get their suits and all. So it's just me now."
Zack:"Oh, that's sad. You need help with something?"
Me:"No, it's fine. It's just final touches. But thanks"
Zack:"All right, man. But if you need, don't hesitate to ask ok?"
He smiled and went back to finish his set.
I was basically drooling, As I was climbing the ladder and trying to reach the letters, I stumbled and grabbed onto a light. I must have been shocked or something cause then I found myself on the floor. But I wasn't on the ground, I was standing. And on the ground was my body, unconcious.
I looked at my hands and they were barely visible. I tried to reach my body but it wouldn't accept my soul. Fuck, am I dying? I tried to call out for Zack but he didn't hear me. I ran to him and saw him lifting his weights. I tried to reach for him, but before I did I felt a force pulling me towards him. And as I was pulled away I felt something being ejected out of his body.
I opened my eyes, looking in front of me. But Zack was gone now. I turned around but he wasn't anywhere. As I looked down, I noticed I was now wearing bright red shorts, and on top of that a very sweaty torso, which definitely wasn't mine. I reached out my hands. Fuck, is this really happening? I searched the pockets and found a phone. In its reflection I saw Zack's face. Oh my god. Did I really just possess Zack's body? And where is he?
The responsible flow of thoughts was now interrupted by the two huge sweaty biceps now in the way where I usually didn't mind them. I flexed and oh my god, the tightness, the strength. I felt amazing.
I knew it was bad, but I just had to give it a try. What if I might never have a chance to do this ever again, I stuck out my new tongue and licked my new shoulder all the way to my biceps. Which also allowed me now to inhale the scent of my sweaty armpit. "This is so amazing!"
I then proceeded to touch my new belly full off abs. "How the hell did he get these?"

"Lot of working out and calorie deficit" a voice called out from the other side of the room, where I was before. And there was my body. Standing.
"Zack? Is that you?"
"Yeah. Would you mind telling me how this happened?"
I wanted to be completely honest, I swear, but I think that he doesn't need to know the part where my soul travelled to his body and was pulled by it.
"So, are we gonna try to reverse it the same way? Cause your body is really hurting from the fall and my body needs to be ready for a game tommorow. So I'm not really sure about that"
"I'm really sorry about that Zack. I mean, you're right that maybe it was my near deth experience that caused this, but I don't know if endangering our lives would allow to swap us back. What if the other one dies and the remaining one will have to keep on living the other ones life?"
"Yeah, you're onto something. Well, we're gonna have to figure out how to pass on as each other."
We spoke some more about how we were gonna live our lives without anyone thinking we have gone crazy.
"Ok, Zack. Just one question. How about... you know. Private stuff?"
"You mean my personal things at home or phone? Well that shouldn't be so bad I think. I don't have many secrets to tell or something, haha"
"No, I mean. Eventually we're gonna have to take a shower or go to a toilet."
"Oh, right. I haven't thought of that. Well, than my body is your body? I mean, I don't really like to think about somebody else using my body like that, but I know you're a good person and all, so I know you'll treat my body well. Maybe just... no sex? Could you do that for me please?"
"Zach, I haven't had sex yet even in my body. I mean, your body is attractive and all so, I know I could get a date in your body or smth, but that's not something I would do."
"Ok, thanks man. Just making sure. And also another thing. I..."
"What is i Zack?"
"Give me a second, it's kind off embarasing for me. I have to jerk off in the evening everyday. If I don't I sometimes have wet dreams the next morning"
"Dude, that's nothing to be ashamed of. That happens, Zack"
"Thanks. I know you mean well, but I just know my body. So I know you'll have to take care of that now or you'll have a very unpleasant morning including the washing of the clothes and bed linens."
I felt Zack dick in my new shorts getting hard just by hearing about this. Not only am I in the body of my crush, but he himself gave me permission to jerk off his dick. How crazy is that?
"Ok, Zack. If that's what needs to be done, I'll do it." I said it in a way to make it sound like I wasn't thrilled to jerk off his dick
"And in exchange I'll get to jerk off your dick. Do you have any other secrets I should know about?"
OH FUCK NO I am not telling him "Well... not really. I think."
"Good, then let's get to it. In case you won't know what to do, just text me and I'll help you"
I was approaching Zack's house. The one where I basically grew up secondary to mine. I knew where all the rooms were. What stuff was placed where. But that was before the death of my dad and before the divorce. Who knows what's different
I entered the house anticipating horrible things. And then a strange man left the restroom. "Hey, dipshit. Back from school already? Jesus fuck. The kids these days. Why don't you get a job kid" he left for the kitchen to grab himself a cold beer and left for the living room.
Now I understand why Zack spent so much time at school doing sports. He didn't want to stay at home longer than necessary.
Anyway, up to Zack's room. His room was not filthy, it was kind of clean, but at the same time it was a but disorganized. Some of his used clothes were lying on the ground. I grabbed one of his boxers and grabbed it to my face. This is my smell now. The smell of my dick. I inhaled and held it to my nose.
As I felt my dick hardening, I didn't waste no time and started undressing myself. Zack's small mirror didn't do the trick for me so I left to the bathroom.
"Ok, modern shower. That's new. Gonna have to give it a go"
I took off all my remaining clothes. I left his necklace on and then just stared at my new reflection in the mirror. How amazing is this?
I touched his jawline, his already growing beard, scratching my hand. His lips, shivering underneath my touch. His beautiful nose. His eyes, that now contained my soul and not his looked a bit different, but same too. I took my right hand and place it on my neck while my left hand was already enjoying the hairtrail blow my stomach.
"Oh Zack, I think you'd be the type to shave. Might do that for you to fully embrace this massive beast" and with that I lowered my right hand that was before resting on my vibrating throat and now started jerking my new dick.

"Just doing what I had been told. Haha"
I jerked faster. I was slightly moaning but not loud enough to cause suspicion with Zack's step dad. I was observing the tense muscles just working hard to get me into the state of pure euphoria.
I was getting close. I couldn't stop myself from moaning. I jerked so hard that the cum flew out of my dick right to the mirror in front of me. Is I stood there, smiling with my semi-hard dick in my hand I just saw the door swung open.
I quickly covered my dick and whole self with a towel, but even the partial view could give the viewer enough information. His step dad was furious
"What the hell you fucker?!? You're jerking off here while you could do some usefull job instead? I will have a very long talk with your mother when she gets here!"
What the hell just happened. Why is he so mad at Zack all the time. He's a student and a busy one at that. I don't know what this guy's problem is
I cleaned up the bathroom and got ready for the next time. Just the fact that I got the privilege to smell Zack's scent all the time and sleep in his bed. But having his body was a whole new level. I never even dreamed of this
The next day was horrible. I started the day with PE at school and let me tell you, that having a great body full of muscles is one thing. But having a weak will to actually do it is another. I was exhausted. I felt like I wouldn't be able to get up again after finishing

I saw Zack aproaching me in my body with a concerned look. I was beggining to worry what was on his mind
Zack:"Hey... umm how was your first night as me?"
Me:"Gotta say that the stepdad you got there is an another level of douchebag. I can't believe how you can live with that"
Zack:"Yeah, he is like that all the time. I don't know what mom sees in him. He's actually super nice to her, but seems to hate me just for breathing"
Me:"Yeah. I'll tell you later. There has been a bit of embarassing encounter"
Zack:"Actually I might ask you about something else first. Last night as I was in the bed I was trying to jerk off your dick, very nice by the way"
Me:"Jesus, don't make it more awkward than it is"
Zack:"Sorry. We'll I was trying to jerk off as I normally would, watching porn and stuff, but I couldn't. Then my mind wandered over to the guy on the video... I have to ask you and don't be afraid to answer. Are you gay?"
Me:"Yeah... I've been meaning to tell you for a long time. Well... since we're already saying everything to each other. I'll just admit it right now. I... I have a crush on you Zack"
Zack:"That was my another question. I have my head filled with thoughts. Very naughty thoughts including my body, so I am happy that you cleared this up and I am not just another self centered weirdo. But the question is. Would you let me suck my dick?"
Oh man
Another story from the inbox: Can you do a classic swap story between a nerd and a straight jock? I always find those to be super hot
Hey guys. Sorry for the great break. I was finishing my exams (I passed them all, yay) and now I am in a different country on an externship trying to figure shit out. But I do have some free time during the day and I get to write a bit about my drafts and the stories in your inbox. And thanks to everyone who texted me all the supportive and kind words :) really appreciate it
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The big question is: Why now? âThe first thing that comes to mind is nostalgia,â Ford says. âNostalgia for better times, or a time when the United States and the West seemed more confident.â Indeed, there does seem to be a wistful longing for a type of normalcy just beyond our grasp in these clothes, a foundation of tradition and classicism that cannot be found in todayâs never-ending chaos. Avery Trufelmanâhost of the popular fashion podcast Articles of Interest, which spent an entire season digging deep into the long afterlife of prepâhas a theory. âIn some ways, I think itâs a backlash to trends,â she tells me. âIt reminds me of how, in the 1960s, Ivy style should have died, but it was revived because there were so many trends going on then, and people thought, Iâm just gonna go back to what I know, whatâs classy and whatâs safe. Which makes me think of the explosion of trends we saw after the pandemic.â Indeed, every time thereâs another -core to jump on, isnât it calming to just think of tossing on a navy blazer? Weiss thinks it's a post-pandemic reaction, too, but more connected to wanting to dress up again after wearing sweatpants and athleisure for years. âThere was this post-COVID thing of dressing up by choice,â he says. âIn a world where we used to be forced to dress up to go to work, now thereâs this idea of getting dressed up of your own volition.â Personally, I find it fascinating that young peopleâin the midst of unprecedented wealth inequality, told that theyâll never own a home, that the American dream promised to them may well be deadâare dressing up as the people who, in essence, ruined it all for them. I, for one, have noticed my TikTok feed filled with old money aesthetic slideshows of roguish types in Rolls-Royces alternating with vehement harangues of late-stage-capitalism, a perplexing juxtaposition. âThere is this phenomenon of ironic, slightly mocking uses of status symbols which does have a long history,â Ford says, mentioning the way Black and Latinx Americans once donned exaggerated Zoot suits as a retort to traditional menâs tailoring. âI would say the way people are adopting these things, itâs quasi-ironic [though] thereâs certainly a lot of affection for the look.â
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Grease and Oil

⨳Mechanic!Mingi⨳
TW: cursing, smut wrap it before you tap it
Word count: 5,6k
A/N: I don't think I'll ever let go of bleached spikey haired Mingi. It changed something in me, I'll never be the same. I have nothing to say except...why did I even write this? Song Mingi stop haunting me, thank you. It's not the best, but the best I can write lol. Feedback is very much appreciated!
           The smell of grease, oil, and gasoline werenât something unfamiliar to me, nor were they nauseating. It was something I was used to. These were familiar scents; scents which I have started associating with home. Cars, too, were something I associated with a feeling of familiarity, of something dear to me. Walking inside my fatherâs car service was like a second home, a place I knew like the back of my hand. I wasnât huge on fixing cars, but I knew a few things here and there. Despite my fatherâs attempts at making me a great mechanic one day, I struggled to understand the in-depth parts and mechanism of a car, therefore I settled on appreciating their beauty. Canât say my father was too happy about it, but his concerns faded away when I found a path for myself. I applied to a college, choosing to study literature as I struggled finding anything else I liked. Perhaps creative writing was a subjected I happened to enjoy too, but I had no idea where my degree would take me one day. I had no intentions of teaching English literature, the children these days were awful and very disrespectful. My short temper wouldâve surely gotten the worst of me if placed in a situation where I had to deal with rude kids. And so, I settled on reading my books and pouring my feelings out into short poems when I wasnât at college. Or by wasting my time away at my fatherâs car service. Itâs not like I had anything better to doâI actually did, but procrastination is my best friend. Besides, most of his employees are above the age of thirty-five, and two of them I have known since I was a little girl, they could be really fun to hang aroundâŚand itâs not like I would often stop by because my father has an employee who is barely a few years older than myself. And itâs definitely not because he is the hottest man alive I have ever seen. Heâs a tall and lean guy, his posture immaculate with his shoulders always pulled back, his long legs worth envying and shoulders so broad you could hide behind them and nobody would see you. In the summer, he usually wears tight tank tops, showing off his humble muscles, biceps finer than most guyâs of his age. And his pants, which are fireproof, cling onto his body, showing off his narrow waist. This guy was a sight for sore eyes and I couldnât blame the few ladies who would occasionally stop by, completely taken aback by this guyâs visuals. It wasnât fair that he had a perfect body, especially when his face was good-looking too. God sometimes had favorites and Song Mingi definitely was one of them with his long nose, sharp eyes and cherry red lips, a singular mole underneath his left eye decorating his flawless skin. His personality also made him desirable and that just made him a dangerously charming and handsome human being. Perhaps my frequent visits to the service during the summer were sort of his merit too, not just the want to spend some quality time with my father as he spent little time at home. I knew he was busy; I couldnât blame him. His service was one of the best in our little town and money didnât just magically appear, you had to work hard for it and thatâs what he did, he worked his ass off all the time. The fact that he has employed Song Mingi was just the cherry on top, the little motivation I needed to perhaps learn more about cars.
I was settled on top of my fatherâs working desk, tools pushed to the side, feet dangling as I watched him work on a carâs engine, getting more and more furious by the second as he couldnât find one missing screw. I watched quietly as his phone rang again, making him sigh loudly before he straightened himself up and took the call, eyebrows furrowed. It was a hot summer day, the AC did little to nothing inside the hot service, and the use of different electrical tools only created more heat inside the spacious room. I had started fanning myself, overhearing my father make an appointment as an obnoxiously loud engine whirled past the entrance to the service, making my heart skip an excited beat. It was lunch break, and Mingi had just returned from eating his meal. He was gone by the time I had arrived; I was rather lazy this morning and thus didnât bother getting out of bed before 12 pm. My father turned towards me as he finished his call, looking rather irritated. It wasnât directed at me; however, I still knew a lecturing would follow because I sat on his tool deskâŚagain.
âGet off, Y/N, I asked you so many times not to sit there,â He sighed tiredly as he headed for the exit, âI have to examine a car, are you coming to the front?â
Certainly not before I have seen Mingi, âIâll wash my hands first, they feel slimy, meet you at the reception, dad.â
He nodded once and hurried outside, phone already ringing once again. Summer seasons were always busy, work pilling up quickly. I started fanning myself with my hands as another heatwave hit me, making me sigh. Not even a tank top and shorts were enough to stop me from sweating buckets. I pushed my hair behind my shoulders and gripped the table, about to jump off it, when the man I stayed behind for finally showed up. He walked through the open garage door, having to duck as it wasnât raised enough for his towering height. He had his back to me as he walked inside, carrying two boxes, muscles of his arms bulging as a few guys greeted him, instructing him where to place the boxes. However, nothing couldâve prepared me for the wave of shook which rooted me to my spot. My mouth hung open as my eyes remained trained on Mingi, and I could only hope nobody noticed my shameless gaping. Three days ago, when I have stopped by last, the manâs hair reached his shoulders almost and was a faded light brown. Now, his hair was completely bleached blonde and stood up in all places, spikey. A hairstyle definitely shouldnât have made my tummy do flips, yet I had nothing to swallow as I watched Mingi laugh with a fellow mechanic, explaining something to him animatedly. His black tank top was tucked inside his beige pants, a black belt holding it against his hips securely. A black bandana was tied to his left bicep and I licked my lips as my eyes ran over his frame, stopping for a second too long on his ass. Perhaps crawling onto the wall sounded like the most normal thing to do right now. Just as I was about to look away, the man he was talking to briefly glanced at me and Mingi suddenly turned his head, eyes falling on me. Looking away right now would mean admitting that I had been staring at him, so I forced myself to smile nonchalantly at him and blame the flush on my cheeks on the extremely hot weatherâwhich combined with Mingiâs presence only made my body heat up even more. I didnât want to admit it to myself, but Iâd do anything to get railed by Mingi while he wore his working clothes with grease smeared on his cheek. My heart skipped a beat as a lazy smirk appeared on his lips as he took off towards me, making me gulp in panic as I straightened my posture.
âHello, princess.â He called once he was close enough and I rolled my eyes at the nickname, acting as if I totally hated it. It did bother me at the beginning when he started calling me that, but I didnât mind anymore. And it certainly shouldnât have made me blush.
âHi, Mingi.â I greeted him back, smiling as I crossed my legs and leaned forward, holding myself up by my hands. My knuckles hurt from the grip I had on the table, but I ignored that.
âWhat brings you here today?â He asked nonchalantly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. I didnât want to look, but his biceps were bulging and Iâm just a simple woman, âThought you washed your car when you stopped by last time.â
Ah, yes, the good old excuse of washing my car when it didnât need washing yet. To be fair, I had a cleaning problem so that was the main reason why I washed my car so often, Mingi being here was just another thing to motivate me to stop by more frequently.
âI did, Iâm not here for that.â I admitted, clearing my throat as Mingiâs sharp eyes narrowed slightly, mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. He hummed shortly, the sound deep in his throat, reminding me how hot I found his raspy and deep voice. He had once whispered in my ear as he snuck up on me, wanting to scare me, and I swear to God, I almost reached Heaven that day.
âAre you here for me then?â The cute pout of his lips and the finger he pushed against his cheek definitely didnât match the sultriness of his words and the look in his eyes. It made me take a deep breath as I forced myself to roll my eyes, embarrassed that he had a feeling I was only here to see him. I meanâŚI did wear my favorite off-shoulder top just because I knew we would see each other.
âWhy the sudden change of hairstyle?â I decided to change the subject, but it only made Mingi smirk as he looked at me almost victorious, almost as if he knew I didnât answer him because he was right. Mingi ruffled his already spikey hair with a shrug of his shoulders.
âJust wanted something new,â He answered, âbesides, itâs so hot these days, my long locks only made me sweat more. I feel like a new man right now. What do you think, do I look nice?â
Nice was little said, I wouldâve described him more like: hot, sexy, attractive, gorgeous, mouth-watering, âYeah, you look nice. It suits you.â
Mingi smiled happily and bowed lightly before his phone beeped. I didnât understand how a man like him could be so cute while looking like a Greek God. My eyebrows slightly furrowed as I watched Mingi chuckle and smile down at his phone, quickly typing something on it. Perhaps he was seeing someone? Of course, why would a man like him be single? It shouldnât come as a surprise; I should have thought about that sooner. But then again, he never mentioned a significant other. With a sigh, I jumped off the table and dusted off my shorts, running my hands through my hair. Mingi paused, looking up at me through his long lashes. I forced a smile on my face, suddenly discouraged by my own thoughts, as I grabbed my phone off the table.
âGot to go, dadâs waiting for me.â I mumbled as Mingiâs eyes slightly narrowed, eyes swiftly running over my body. He nodded wordlessly and I turned around, taking off towards the exit.
âThat top looks really nice on you.â My steps halted for a second as I looked back at him and chuckled before exiting the garage, walking towards the reception, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach at the simple compliment. I should probably download a dating app and find someone available to obsess over.
           The blaring music and blinding disco lights in the living room were becoming too much as my tipsy head swirled around like a disco ball, throat parched up and dry from the lack of water. Certainly the amount of alcohol I have had was enough for the night as I pushed people out of my way, slightly wobbling as I headed for the kitchen, desperately needing water. A super rich guy from college threw a huge ass party and invited some guys over from our college, one of them being one of my close friends. I wasnât one to turn down a good party, and when the alcohol was free, I would certainly attend it. Seonghwa and I had teamed up and played beer-pong together, kicking Wooyoung and Sanâs asses, but losing to Hongjoong and Yunho. We should have known better not to challenge those two competitive monsters. All in all, the night was fun and after having lost Sooyoung to some hot guy, I hit the dancefloor with Wooyoung and San, the three of us dancing our hearts out to every song. After a while, I grew concerned and started calling Sooyoung, making my two dancing companions almost take my phone away after six missed calls. But it didnât take long for Sooyoung to finally text me, telling me she was upstairs with a Yeosang named guy smoking some weed, and that sheâd be down in no time. I rolled my eyes at the text, huffing as I handed Wooyoung my phone to take care of. My skirt had no pockets and I forgot to bring a fanny-pack, I have grown tired of holding my phone, Wooyoungâs back pocket would do the trick until Sooyoung returned and I could give my phone for her to put in her little purse. The music wasnât as loud in the kitchen as it was in the living room and it was also less packed, which made me grateful as I walked over to the window and pushed it open, smiling contently at the cool air which hit my face. I certainly needed to cool down. I grabbed a red cup which looked relatively unused and filled it with tap water, downing it in mere seconds only to fill it up again and again until I felt satiated. I threw the cup away and leaned against the counter, holding my thumping head in my hands as I closed my eyes for a second, thinking it would help. But it only made me more nauseous and I quickly opened my eyes as I massaged my forehead, still leaning slightly over. Somebody next to me asked if I was okay and I quickly nodded, telling them that I just needed a moment to regain composure again, and Iâll be off dancing once again. However, a weirdly familiar deep voice suddenly filled the kitchen, some high-pitched giggle following straight after the ridiculous joke the guy told. My nose scrunched up at the very cheesy pickup line which followed and I snorted, unintentionally catching their attention as they didnât stand too far away.
âY/N?â The deep voice asked surprised and my eyebrows furrowed as I finally raised my head, smoothing down my hair as it fell in my face.
âOh, Mingi.â I muttered just a little surprised by his presence here. I wondered how he knew about the party, however, the black-haired girl by his side was a tell-tale. She was a student at my college and she was pretty as fuck. I sighed, and unintentionally glared at her, unimpressed by her presence next to Mingi. Itâs not like I knew her well to form an opinion about her, but personally, I didnât like her that much. Especially since Mingi seemed to be here with her. My eyes fall back onto him and my brain blanched for a second, never having seen him outside of the car service up until now. Him not wearing his tight-fitting clothes was something new and I couldnât help but let my eyes run all over his body, taking in the sight in front of me. He wore a loose-fitting white t-shirt, the front slightly tucked inside his grey ripped jeans which were baggy. He wore a black pair of convers, and a black fanny-pack was pushed around to his backside to not bother him. However, what made me take a second to process what I was seeing were his accessories. His necklaces were layered as he wore a red braided like material which sat snugly against the base of his neck, then a silver chain followed, and a silver cross which reached just bellow his collarbones. His wrists were decorated with silver chain bracelets, matching the chain around his neck and he wore various rings, some bigger than the other, his right-hand sporting four meanwhile his left three. If all of that combined with his hair wasnât enough, his fingernails were also painted black, albeit already coming off in some spots, but still painted black. He was a sight for sore eyes and it took everything in me to not grip his arm and walk us upstairs, completely disregarding the girl he was here with.
And she just had to speak up, âOh, you two know each other?â
âYeah, her dadâs my boss.â Mingi answered before I could and I raised an eyebrow as the girl took me in, unexpectedly smiling at me as she placed an arm around Mingiâs shoulders. My jaw tensed subconsciously and I licked my lips as I leaned back against the counter, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
âWe go to the same college,â She told Mingi, offering her hand to me, âI donât think weâve ever really introduced each other, though. My name is Jennie, Iâm Mingiâs cousin.â
âCousin?â My eyebrows raised as I shook Jennieâs hand, âIâm Y/N, by the way.â
âUnfortunately, yes.â Mingi playfully pushed Jennie off himself as he answered my question and Jennie just rolled her eyes.
âWhatever, giant, if I leave you alone with Y/N, will you behave?â She raised her eyebrows threateningly at Mingi and he just chuckled, raising his hands in surrender.
âI always behave.â He defended himself quickly, but sounded like he didnât mean it at all.
âNo, you donât.â Jennie rolled her eyes then looked back at me, âI have to find my boyfriend, heâs somewhere here around, probably drunk off his ass. If Mingi bothers you, just knee him in the stomach really hard and come and find me, Iâll kick his ass for youââ
âIâm right here, you know.â Mingi rolled his eyes and ruffled Jennieâs hair, âGet lost before I chase you away.â
Jennie scoffed but walked away after she waved at me, leaving me alone with Mingi. My hostile behavior slightly dropped, but I couldnât help look at Mingi with narrowed eyes. I knew what I heard while I was fighting the urge of throwing up. Why would anyone flirt with their cousin? That was disgusting.
âIf Jennie is your cousinâŚwhy would you say a pickup line to her?â I couldnât help but ask him accusingly. It made Mingi laugh as he stepped closer, smiling cheekily.
âEavesdropping, werenât you?â I opened my mouth to deny his claim, but Mingi didnât let me, âFirst of, ew, thatâs literally my cousin do I look like I fuck with family? And second, that pickup line was actually sent by someone whom I have been talking to, and I was just reading it to Jennie.â
âHow many girls are you talking to currently?â The question tumbled past my lips before I could even think about it. I only could blame the alcohol for making me so straightforward and embarrassing.
âWouldnât you like to knowâŚâ Mingi chuckled and stepped closer, invading my personal space. I gulped and pressed myself harder into the counter, hands coming to grip the edge of it. A smirk appeared on Mingiâs lips as he leaned down to be eye level with me, eyes searching my face before they settled on my lips briefly. My head was spinning and perhaps I was seeing things, but his tongue poked out for a second, âYou look really hot.â
I gulped and let out a quiet breath, looking down at myself. The leather skirt clung onto me like a second skin and the flower decorated corset did little to nothing to cover what I would usually hide. It was Sooyoungâs idea to dress up like this, she wore a matching set except her corset was green meanwhile mine pink.
âUh, thanks.â I whispered and didnât dare move as Mingi lowered his head even more, looking through his lashes as he looked me in the eyes. Heâs never stood this close to me before; it only now made me realize the height difference between us. And I couldnât help but faintly smell gasoline despite his strong cologne.
âDressed up for someone?â He muttered and I felt a warm finger lightly trace the skin of my right arm. I gulped nervously and ignored the goosebumps on my skin.
âI didnât know youâd be hereââ I tried changing the subject, it seemed to be a habit of mine lately.
âBut if you did know, would you have dressed up for me?â Mingiâs raspy voice whispered in my ear as he leaned closer, my mouth opening without a sound coming out. My tipsy brain didnât exactly know how to function in that moment and that meant I had nothing to say. But as he pulled back, we made eye contact, and his intimidating gaze pulled an answer out of me instantly.
âYes.â I would totally hate myself in the morning for admitting that, but I couldnât help myself. Not when he was standing so close and saying things like that. A smirk pulled onto Mingiâs lips and suddenly his hand raised as he gripped a strand of my hair lightly and twirled it around, brushing it behind my ear. I watched him mesmerized, body slightly trembling because of different things. The opened window brought in the chill breeze and we stood close to the it; Mingiâs closeness and touch made me want to crash my lips against his, and I was fighting every fiber in my body to stop myself from doing that, thankfully not tipsy enough to lose all rationality.
âI think I know about your little secret, princess.â Mingiâs tone was playful as he suddenly cupped my cheek and tilted my head back, hovering his face over mine, eyes tracing my features slowly. I hoped my red lipstick wasnât smudged and that it would be smudged in no time.
âWhat secret?â I asked confused, biting my lower lip as Mingiâs Adamâs apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, his fingers slipping towards my nape as his thumb pushed against my cheek.
âAbout your little crushââ He barely whispered, eyes on my lips as my mouth parted, heart beating like crazy, âon me.â
Before I could answer him, his teeth caught my lower lip between his and he sucked on the flesh, making my face flush as I mewled, hand holding onto his waist for more stability as the counter wasnât enough anymore. He held eye contact as he released my lip and I felt like crumbling onto my knees and giving him anything he wanted as my grip tightened on him, head pulled closer to his by the grip he had on my nape. Mingiâs lips barely brushed against mine and I tried to close the impossibly little distance between us, but he just tsked and smirked.
âGood girls eventually get what they want, princess, be a bit more patient.â I couldnât help but groan in frustration as Mingi released me and took a step back, smirking as he swiped his thumb over my lower lip, smudging my lipstick. I threw him a glare, but he just laughed and then turned around and walked off with a cup he grabbed off from the counter. I couldnât help but lick my lower lip, pressing a palm against my racing heart as I tapped the sweat off my forehead, needing another cup of water to cool off.
           And I didnât even have to wait for too long. Four days after the party, my father asked me to stop by the car service because he couldnât decide what color to choose for the tuning he was doing for one of his friendâs car. I couldnât have been happier to stop by as I made it my personal mission to stay away from that place for as long as possible, embarrassed by what happened between Mingi and I at the party, but also because I wanted to torture him a bit too. I could only hope he yearned to see me as much as I yearned for him. My father was out, having to pick up some pieces in the nearest city, which was half an hour away, so that meant heâd be gone for approximately an hour and a half. Everyone was gone by now from the car service as working hours were over, everyone except Mingi, of course. He had to catch up on his work as he had to skip a day for some undisclosed business. And yes, Mingi shouldâve been working right now on that old car nobody actually wanted to fix, but here he was, balls deep in my pussy, thrusting into me like his life depended on it. I guess he was just a simple man too, and he fell exactly into my trap as I walked through the garage door wearing my little sundress, high heels elongating my legs. It didnât take long for Mingi to stop whatever he was doing as he dragged me to the backroom, where there were no cameras, and pushed up on the table, wasting no time in undressing himself and working up the both of us. My head was thrown back from the constant pleasure his movements brought, his length reaching places no one else has before, my right hand gripping his bare waist as I rolled my hips to meet his thrusts. Mingi was biting his lips hard, holding onto my hips as I had to hold myself up with one arm, muscle straining with each strong thrust. Perhaps I should have expected him to be vocal, but the whines he would let out every now and then only turned me on even more, dragging my own moans out of me. Grease stuck to his left cheek, just underneath his mole and his already sweaty body from working was glistening once again, smelling strongly of the substance he has been working with to clean rims of the old car.
âI bet youâve been fantasizing about me fucking you covered in grease and all sweaty from the long day Iâve had.â My only answer was a loud moan as he hit the sweet spot which made me see stars, and for a second, all I could hear were his own pants and the table squeaking louder and louder with each thrust.
âYou have no ideaââ I moaned as I clenched around Mingi, mind blanching for a second as he hit that spot again, âHow fucking hot you lookâlike this.â
My fingertips dug into his hips and Mingi suddenly leaned down, pressing my back flat against the wooden table, rotating his hips as he suddenly slowed down. My mouth opened in a gasp and my legs went around his hips, one hand tangling in his blonde spikey hair as the other went around his shoulders to anchor myself. Mingi groaned in my ear as I clenched around his length again, his thrusts painfully slow on purpose, making me try to move my hips, but he had me pinned down by his heavier body.
âFuck, pleaseââ My whine was muffled by his lips as he pressed them against mine, pushing his tongue past my lips as I kissed him hungrily, wanting to feel more and more of him. Our lips moved messily against each other as Mingi slightly quickened his pace, but it still wasnât enough. My eyebrows were furrowed as it started becoming unbearable and I whined, pulling my head away and choking on my words for a second, âIâm going to fucking die if you donât go faster.â
I couldnât believe Mingi had the audacity to smirk as he bit my lower lip harshly, making me push his head away as he chuckled amused, fake pouting at me.
âThought I said good girls get what they wantââ He completely stilled, bringing tears into my eyes out of frustration as I gripped his nape, trying to move against him to no avail, âAnd youâre being rather impatient right now.â
But before I could say anything, the slightly stood up and pulled almost fully out before slamming in again, his pace relentless and thrusts sharp as he threw his head back, moaning, making me grip onto his lower arm as he hit my g-spot over and over again, making my back arch as broken moans left my lips, nails digging into his skin. I was going fucking insane as his thumb found my clit and he started rubbing circles on it, making me cry out as I felt my orgasm building up, ready to snap any second as Mingiâs moans got higher and higher, my walls clenching tightly around him, bringing him closer to the edge as well.
âFuck.â He hissed at a particular sharp thrust, his hips almost stuttering but I managed to meet his movements, desperate for my own release as I clawed at the wooden table, back arching as the pleasure became unbearable and the knot in my stomach snapped, making me let out a high-pitched moan, only for Mingiâs lips to muffle it as his hips stuttered, his own release following mine, filling me up. My body trembled and my lungs heaved for air as I came down from the high, our lips touching with Mingi as we both panted into each otherâs mouths. His scent was intoxicating and I couldnât help but burry my head into his neck and lightly bite down on his perfect skin, making him shudder. He didnât pull out yet and I felt him twitch slightly, making me chuckle.
âSo, Iâm hot when Iâm all sweaty and covered in grease?â He spoke up, voice raspy, and his words made me laugh as I allowed my head to rest against the wooden table, throwing an arm over my eyes. I could feel Mingiâs smile as he pressed a kiss against the corner of my mouth, swiftly pulling out.
âI said it once, I wonât say it again.â I peeked at him as he quickly pulled up his boxers and tight pants, adjusting his tank top.
âIf I knew all I had to do was change my hairstyle for you to finally let me fuck youââ Mingi shook his head as he helped me off the table, smirking when I had to lean against it for support, my legs having gone numb, âI wouldâve done it a lot earlier.â
âPerhaps if you werenât so oblivious,â I threw him a glare and pulled up my panties, adjusting my dress, âYou wouldâve noticed how badly I wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you, idiot.â
Mingi laughed and threw an arm around my shoulders as he pulled me into himself, âNow that thatâs out of the wayâŚdo you want to date or do you want us to just fuck?â
His question made me pause as I looked up in his eyes, biting my lower lip in thought, âYou want to go out with me?â
âI sure do.â Mingi said it like it was the most obvious thing, then he jutted his chin towards mine, âWhat about you?â
âWhat do you think?â I asked with a chuckle.
âThat we should go for a second roundââ
âMingi!â I pressed my palm over his mouth and threw him a little glare, âMy father could be back anytime, you know. And yes, I do want to date you. Unless youâre always this annoying.â
Mingi fake laughed as he pushed my hand off his mouth, âArenât you just so funny?â
I stuck my tongue out at him and he tried kissing it, making me yelp and push him away, which made Mingi giggle as he placed his hands in his pockets, âSo, tomorrow at six?â
âBut you better shower before you come pick me up.â I pointed a finger at him as we went to leave the room.
âI thought I smelled hotââ
âYou canât smell hot, so justââ I sighed and looked at him, âJustâdress up. YouâI mean, you know, you looked really good at the party. I havenât seen you out of your work clothes before.â
âAw, arenât you so shy right now and stuttering all of a sudden?â He cooed and poked my cheek, âAs if I wasnât inside youââ
âY/N, you still here?!â I heard my fatherâs voice shout from afar and I threw Mingi a warning look as I pushed him away. He walked towards the car he had to fix defeated, throwing me those sad puppy eyes and a pout as my father walked inside the garage.
âHi.â I waved at him and he smiled, glancing at Mingi.
âYou can fix it tomorrow too, you know?â My father said as he went to put his own utensils away. Mingi hummed but said he didnât have much until he was done, liar. My father glanced at me and I looked away from Mingi, smiling at my father innocently. He just shook his head and threw his keys at me, making me clumsily catch them.
âGo pick up your mother, Iâll stay behind and help Mingi fix the car.â He muttered tiredly as he walked up to my soon-to-be-boyfriend, oblivious to what Mingi would soon become to him as well. Not just an employee, but perhaps a part of our family too. I jokingly saluted my father as I stopped in the doorway, turning to look at Mingi, who was already watching me.
âGoodbye, Mingi.â
âBye, Y/N.â Mingi tried to fight the smile off his lips as I turned around and ran off with a giggle, cheeks burning suddenly with embarrassment.
Good girls eventually get what they want, donât they?
Masterlist
#bvidzsoo#cromernet#song mingi#mingi x reader#song mingi x reader#mingi smut#song mingi smut#mingi drabble#song mingi drabble#mingi scenarios#song mingi scenarios#mingi imagines#song mingi imagine#ateez drabbles#ateez x reader#ateez smut#ateez scenarios#ateez fanfic#ateez university au#ateez mechanic au
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The Nanny
Pairing: rafe x nanny reader
Summary: Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside is dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?
Warnings: 18+, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (Practice safe sex), cream pie, slapping, chocking, squirting, use of daddy
Wc: 5.3K
Chapter 3: Guess we're both broken
Waking up the next morning, you tossed over to the otherside, noticing the sheets were cold. Peaking through sleep coated eyes you realize that Rafe is gone. Sitting Up you look around the room, his shirt and shorts gone as well. Not surprised that he was gone, a sinking feeling is in your chest, he used you. Once again you are left knowing that you shouldnât have thought anything else. Should have known him being on his best behavior recently was just another ploy to sleep with you, knowing that he won.Â
The rest of the day was spent moping around Tannyhill, grateful that you didnât need to see him. Sarah being the only person you see when she stops by to get some of her things before running off again to stir up trouble. The day was so uneventful that you even decided to go to your parents cookout. Which turned out as awful as you expected it to go.
Reaching your childhood home you can see your neighbors scattered around the lawn. You notice your dad on the grill talking to one of the other dad, most likely talking about what rub or glaze he used this time. Walking around you greeted a few people who stopped you to ask how work is going. âThat Cameron boy is causing you any trouble is he?â If only you knew, you thought. âNo heâs not. They are all really respectful to me.â In hindsight it wasnât a lie, they have been really nice making you feel welcomed. If the past two nights hadnât happened you wouldnât be so apprehensive to say it, but they did happen.
Everything seemed to be going well until you reached your mom. She was talking to some of her friends when she saw you walking their way. âWell if it isnât my precious little angel. Hardly recognize you since we never see you.â She chuckles, trying to mask the insult with laughter. Taking a deep breath you give her a hug. âI know, Iâm sorry. Been trying to visit but itâs been hectic.â Saying hi to the rest of the group was met with few words, some of them not replying at all. âHow much work can it really be? The young one is practically an adult herself.â Your mom has a way of making everything you do seem insignificant or an inconvenience to her, your job being one of them.Â
âYouâd be surprised. Wheeze is a saint but she does give me a run for my money. I should go say hi to dad before he feels left out.â With that you walked off to greet your dad. The rest of the night was a never ending cycle of your parents making small jabs at you. Making you and the rest of the party uncomfortable every time they spoke. The cherry on the cake was when they pulled off to the side just as you were about to leave. âSweetie, we need to ask you something and before you start getting mad you need to agree to hear us out.â Your dad says sitting on the couch looking at you, your mom next to him nodding along to his words. âOkay.â
âSo you see we really need to fix up the house. You know how bad the AC is, you would have better luck keeping the fridge door open then that thing working.â Oh god you can already see where this is going, eyes rolling waiting for them to ask you for money. âDonât roll your eyes at us, we are your parents.â Your mother scolded. âAnyway.â your dad continues. âWe donât have the money to get it fixed. The mortgage is barely even being covered as it is, we just need you to spot us some money. Just enough to get us going.â Taking a deep breath and cooling your nerves. âHow much?â you ask.
â4,000.â Your eyes widen at the price, that's a whole month's worth of pay, let alone you donât have that on you right now due to helping them out. â4,000? You need me to give you 4,000 dollars? By when?â The questions shootout at them. âYes 4,000 and we need it now preferably.â So thatâs why they invited you today, not because they miss you like they claim but because they need money. âI donât have that kind of money on me or in my account.â âWhat do you mean you donât have that money? Whatâs the point of working for some kooks if they donât pay you well.â Your dad scoffs turning and looking at your mom. âWhat did I tell you? I told you she wouldnât help us.â
This really canât be happening right now. You have been working since you were 14 to contribute to the bills, every paycheck going straight into their hands. âI have been helping you. Iâve been helping you for the past six years with every bill in this house.â âWe never asked you to do that.â Your mother rebuttals, taking another sip from the glass of wine in her hand. âYes you have!.â you exclaim. âYou are literally asking me for 4,000 dollars as we speak. Every time you ask me for money I hand it over without making a fuss, but this I canât do. I have my own expenses, you know.â
âWhat expenses? All of a sudden you live in a fancy mansion and youâre too good to help out your parents.â Your dadâs words hurt you. You have tried to be their perfect daughter your whole life. The perfect grade, the scholarship, then declining the scholarship because they begged you not to go. Every life choice youâve made has been to cater them and their wants. âYes, dad, my expenses. I have my own car that I pay for by myself, a car loan as well, I even have to buy my own groceries. Then on top of that I send the both of you practically all of my paychecks. Iâve been scraping by trying to make it all work, why canât the two of you just realize I canât do this.â Your pleas fall onto deaf ears as they both get up from the couch. âIf you arenât willing to help us then thereâs nothing left to talk about. You know where the door is.â
Watching as the walk away tears threaten to spill from your eyes. The drive back to Tannyhill seemed longer than it usually did. The conversation played on repeat throughout the whole drive. Parking your car you rush to the front door, all you want to do is lay in your bed and cry. Tears are already falling from your eyes as you close the front door. âWell what do we have here, country club? This that nanny you keep hiding from me?â You recognize the voice, youâve seen and heard him around Tanny when Rose or Ward is gone. Barry is his name you think not really caring to find out you just walk down the hall. âNot much of a talker I see.â
âLeave her alone.â Rafeâs voice makes your ears perk up. Even though every muscle in your body is telling you to keep walking and not to look at him, you cave. Eyes meeting he can see the tears in them. âYou okay, sunny?â You canât do this right now, canât get caught up in him just for him to leave once again. Without saying a word you brush past him, bounding up the stairs to the second floor. But before you can slam your bedroom door you can hear Barry talk. âThe fuck you do to her?â
âśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâśâś
The next morning you had yourself locked in your room just thinking. First about your parents and then about Rafe, then your parents and Rafe once again. It was torture having to sit in the room replaying ever interaction to see where things went wrong. It didnât take a rocket scientist to tell you about the Rafe situation but it might for your parents.Â
Looking at the clock by the bed you see that it's almost one in the afternoon. Deciding that you canât sit her a mope for the rest of your life, you get up and get ready. Ward had given you a membership to the country club when you first started, he thought it would be better since you can accompany Wheezie when she goes. A nice relaxing day at the club, eating the fancy food is just what you needed.
It didnât take long to get there or to find a seat by the pool, most of the people are on the golf course anyway. The only people by the pool are the wives that have kids and the teens who were there for the lifeguard. Stripping from clothes you are left in the red bikini you wore, you put on some sunscreen before laying down on the lounge chair soaking up the rays.Â
The sun feels nice against your skin, the heat relaxing your tense muscles finally being given a break. After about thirty minutes you flip over allowing your back to tan, not wanting to be uneven. The sound of kids laughing and the busy club lull you into a peaceful mind. So what if your parents are upset? You have done more than enough to help them out over the years, you canât keep digging them out of their messes. Who even knows where most of the money you send them goes, itâs definitely not toward the house.
So what if Rafe is a dick who just uses girls and dumps them to the side? You canât control who he is and clearly he just wanted to hookup nothing more. All that you can do now is just keep to yourself, itâs better to protect your peace then being his new play thing. Then why does it hurt? Shaking off the thoughts you notice how hot you started to get.Â
The sun is beating down on you, sweat forming on your skin causing you to stick to the chair. Getting up you head into the pool, the cold warmer cooling you off as you float. You didnât know this but a few feet away on the dining patio sat Rafe with Topper and Kelce. Rafe was half listening while the two boys talked about something he didnât care about. His mind kept bringing back the picture of your crying face from last night.
As soon as Barry left he went straight to your room but the door was locked. He sat there for a second and heard nothing from the otherside of the door, assuming you went to bed he left for his room. When he woke up this morning it was all that he could think of, seeing you like that hurt him. You looked like he did after his dad made him feel less of, the thought of you feeling like that made his blood boil. But showing you he cared shows that he needs you, that he actually cares for, thatâs not who he is.
No Rafe is the type of guy that fucks everything in his life up, dropped out of school, is a failure to his dad and in relationships. That's what heâs good at, youâll see it eventually so why even try? Looking out to the course, he can see the pool from here, looking at all the bodies laying around. The red swimsuit draws his eyes down your body, recognizing you as you walk out the pool. The water drips down your stomach, down your legs, but the droplet in between your breasts has him staring.Â
Rafe isnât the only one staring, the few teen boys are staring, then thereâs the lifeguard. Rafe remembers him from school and doesnât like the fact heâs staring at you. He watches as you dry yourself off, putting the shirt and shirt you wore back on. Looking as you gather your things and escape his view as you leave, the boys gather his attention. âDude are you even listening?â His eyes move back to them âYeah.âÂ
You make your way through the halls, carding through your memory to remember how to get to the dining. As you walk, members of the club look at you, judging you for the way your shirt has wet spots from your swimsuit and hair. You decide to sit at the bar not wanting to deal with anyone today. âHow can I help you mâlady.â You put the menu down to meet JJâs gaze. âOh my god! Jayj hi.â You squeal, catching the attention of patrons including Rafe.Â
âI havenât seen you in a while. Joining the darkside has really changed you.â He looks around before leaning a bit closer. âHow is it on the other side? Miss us already?â He teases. âOf course I miss all of you.â You playful push his shoulder, JJ raises his hands up in surrender before resting his body weight on the bar counter arms next to yours. Rafe stares in shock at the scene playing in front of him. You, his girl, flirting with fucking Maybank of all people.
He sees JJ push a piece of hair behind your hair and you giggle. The chair scraping against the floor alerted the boys, he didnât even realize he was even up and walking over to the two of you. âWhere are you going?â Kelce calls out to him. âIâll be right back.â As he gets closer he can hear your conversation more clearly. âYou should come to the bonfire this week. Iâll make it worth your time.â JJ flirts, Rafe coming up right behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Looking over your shoulder you can see the look of anger on his face and the smirk painted on JJ's face.Â
âSunny! I didnât know you were going to be here. Maybank why donât you run along and get me another drink.â He says with a condescending tone, glaring at the blonde boy. âRafe.â You say as a warning, already seeing how this is going to end. âWhat? Iâm just asking the help to do his job. Right Maybank?â âI was actually helping out this beautiful customer. Ainât that right baby?â JJ remarks getting closer to you. The look on Rafeâs face could probably kill JJ if he tried hard enough.
Rafe leans against the counter, his body facing you. âYou really slumming it around with this loser? You like being around trash?â His comment made you see red. How fucking dare he? You knew he kinda took the kook and pogue thing seriously but to call them trash. Itâs like he forgets that you are also a pogue, that if it wasnât for his father you would still be living on the cut with the rest of them. Which is true, he doesn't see you as a pogue or the help.Â
To him youâre a kook, you belong with them, with him. âYes I do. Now this trash is going to take itself out like the âhelpâ do.â You say quoting help as a reminder that you also are the help. âIâll see you around Jayj.â You tell the blonde looking at you with worried eyes before storming off. âYeah see ya.â He calls out looking at Rafe for a moment. âMan I knew you were dumb but god damn. Thatâs the dumbest shit Iâve ever seen you do.â He laughs and walks away to go serve other customers. Rafe knows heâs right, potentially just fucked up whatever the two of you had before it actually really started. More than he has already done by ignoring you for the past day and a half.
He makes his way back to the table, the guys watching as he takes out a wad of cash and throwing it on the table. âI gotta go.â He exclaims, rushing to try and catch you before you have the chance to fully leave. Racing out of the building he sees you in the distance looking for your car. Jogging he catches up to you grabbing your arm and yanking you back to him. âLet go of of me!â You yell at him turning and pushing his chest hard. âNo! Come one just talk to me.â He exclaims fighting you to make you stay and hear him out. âAre you kidding me? Talk it out? You just insulted me and my friend.â âNo I insulted him. I wouldnât do that to you.âÂ
You scoff pulling your arm free from his grip. âSo calling him trash just because heâs a pogue doesnât insult me? I donât know if youâve noticed but Iâm also a pogue. I came from the cut just like he does. Does that shit actually really mean something to you? Are you that fucking stupid?â Rafeâs been called stupid many times in his life, from Ward, his sisters, hell even Rose has called him stupid. He knows that he makes things difficult and not many people like him. But hearing you call him stupid fills him with more rage then seeing Maybank think he can have his girl. âHey donât you fucking dare. Say whatever every the fuck you want but I ainât stupid you fucking hear me.âÂ
He grips your cheeks, pinching them together. âDonât you ever call be stupid again got it?â You should be scared, youâve seen his temper before, seen him throw shit around the house or get into a fight with people at parties. You donât know what to do being on the receiving end of his anger, then his words ring in your ear making you angry all over again. That ache in your pants is ignored as you wrench your head out of his hand. âI donât know what your problem is but if you put your hands on me again youâll regret it. You think just because everyone else is scared of you that I will be too? News flash buddy Iâm not.â âDonât call me buddy.â His voice was weaker than it was when he was yelling.Â
âYou donât get it.â He states turning away from you and letting you go. âYouâre right I donât. You donât talk to me for two days completely ignoring me after you got what you wanted. Then when Iâm catching up with a friend you come in guns blazing as if the world is about to end. Whatâs wro-â âHe was touching and flirting with you.â He cuts off your rant, stunning you into silence. âSo what if he was?â Rafeâs eyes darken hearing you defend him, telling him you actually enjoyed the attention that you were getting from another guy. âSo what?â He laughs differently from his normal one, darker than what you are used to.
 âYou really think I want some other guy touching you? Do you fuck him too?â âYouâre jealous?â You meant it as a statement but it came out more like a question. âYeah Iâm jealous. All those guys in there would give up all their money just to get a chance with you. You donât know them like I do, they would jump at the chance to get with a beautiful girl.â This is the third time heâs insinuated you are beautiful in some way. âWell maybe I should give them a shot. You obviouslyâ His lips crash to yours, not allowing you to finish. This is different from the other kisses youâve shared, more intense. Heâs trying to tell you heâs scared of losing you, a crazy thought considering you arenât even his.
How can he feel so strongly for you than he already did? Itâs no secret that heâs always had a thing for you but this is different. The thought of you leaving him for another person actually terrifies him. Everyone has left him and he canât stand the thought of you being another person who walks away. You try fighting him again but all efforts die when his tongue makes its way into your mouth. Rafe has this effect on you that you canât explain.
There was always this soft spot for him but now that the lines have muddled together itâs hard to separate your feelings. Arms wrap around his shoulder pulling the two of you closer to each other, bodies pressed together. He pulls away from you for a second allowing the two of you to catch your breaths. âGet in the car. Iâll meet you back at the house.â Fully pulling away you straighten out your clothes that got a little skewed from making out. He goes to walk to his truck, you stop him. âYou canât just get upset like that and make a scene. If this thing between us is going to work you have to talk to me, okay?â Eyes softening looking at your expression he takes a step forward placing a kiss on your forehead. âOkay.â With that he walks away leaving you standing in the middle of the parking lot wondering what the hell just happened.
The both of you race back to Tanny, Rafeâs truck behind your car. Reaching the house, you make your way inside waiting for him to get here, you lost him at a red light on the way over. You go to the kitchen to get water, the sound of the front door opens, Rafeâs footsteps echoing through the hall. âYou think you can just go around and flirt with people?â Heâs standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, white polo stretching around his biceps. âI thought we talk-â âNo Iâm not done.â He enters the room, staring at your body with dark eyes. âStrip.â
The grip on the water bottle tightens. âWhat?â Rafe is now in front of you, taking the water from your hands, whipping the stray drop on your lips. His thumb gently pulls your bottom lip before releasing it. âStrip and get on your knees. I need to teach you a lesson, I donât like people thinking they can have whatâs mine.â You look at him before following the instructions, staring up at him as he unbuttons his pants to take his dick out.
âOpen.â You do without a second thought. âGood girl.â He mumbles, forcing himself in and setting a brutal pace. You have to catch yourself on his thighs just so you donât fall, his hand holding you in place. Hips thrusting into you, your throat gladly accepts the intrusion, gargling on his length. Tears pooling on your bottom lashes, spilling down your cheeks, making Rafe go harder on you. âLook at you. A mess of spit and tears for my cock. Think maybank can do this for you?â
Heâs still on about what happened at the club, to tell the truth you were too. His jealousy causes mixed emotions in you. On one instance you like seeing how possessive he was for you, on the other he resorts to insults to get his way. You give him a rough suck, eyes meeting his. âFuck.â Rafe pulls out, yanking you up and bending you over the kitchen island. His body covering yours as he lines himself up, you're so wet that you arenât worried about the pain. You were sure that he would fit, no preparation needed. âTold you I would bend you over and fuck the shit out of you.â
With that he slammed into you, moaning at the feeling of your walls stretching to accommodate his size. He halts when heâs ball deep, giving you a moment to gather yourself, only a moment. His thrust pushes you further into the island, sure enough to leave marks on your hip tomorrow morning. You donât even care, he feels too good, the feeling of him stretching you is overwhelming. Whimpers keep leaving your mouth. Rafe grabs your arms, using them as leverage to fuck you harder as he keeps them pinned behind you back by one hand.
âHarder.â You moan out. Your body tingling from all the pleasure heâs giving you, your peak creeping around the corner embarrassingly fast. âYeah? My little slut wants me to fuck her faster?â The degradation goes straight to your clit, walls fluttering around his length. He goes harder for a few minutes before pulling out, a whine of protest leaving you. âYou donât get to cum yet.â Rafeâs hot breath in your ear, his body heat leaving you too.Â
He turns you around and hoists you onto the island, spreading your legs to step in between them. Left hand going to guide himself back into you, gliding across your fold to get you hip and bring you closer to the edge. In this angle he hits you deep, pushing against your cervix with each thrust.
Wrapping a hand around your neck, he squeezes lightly just enough to have your mind all fuzzy. You roll your eyes back grasping onto his bicep, manicured nails digging into his flesh leaving crest shaped marks. Rafe hisses at the sensation enjoying the flash of pain radiating in his arm. He starts fucking you hard, pounding into you having his dick spear into your g-spot. His unoccupied hand takes hold of your hair, pulling you till your foreheads are pressed together. His watch digging into the back of your neck, chested firmly pressed to each other, sharing each breath.
 âSqueezing my dick so fucking good baby. Can you hear how bad your pussy needs it?â Rafe moans out. You can, youâre so wet that every time he fucks into you squelching fills the room. You open your mouth but a particular thrust makes you moan instead. The hand in your hair retracts, your head leaning back slightly, it comes down on your cheek. It wasnât hard enough to really hurt but enough to have pain heat your face. You moan liking the feeling of the smack, mostly just enjoying the fact that he lost himself to the point of causing a bit of pain.Â
âYou like me hitting you baby?â When you moan he smacks you again, annoyed that you wonât speak. âUse your words.â Rafeâs hand cupping your jaw staring at your fucked out expression, the hand around your neck tightens as his pace increases. Youâre wetness mixing with his pre-cum leaking out of you, making a mess between you two. âI like it sir.â It comes out more like a breath but it counts. âMy good little girl. You gonna cum for me? Hmm cum for daddy.â The new nickname was the nail in the coffin, the tightness in your belly finally snapping.
 This feeling was a new thought. It was so intense and it didnât feel like an orgasim that youâve had before. Your walls squeeze rage so tight that it pushes him out of you, your release gushing out getting everything wet. âDid you just fucking squirt?â Rafe pushes his dick back in, fucking you harder than before. âSuch a dirty fucking slut, squirting and getting everything wet.â Moans keep getting pulled from you, pouring out into his mouth as he sloppily kisses you. âOh fu-fuck⌠Iâm gonna cum. Where do you want it.â âInside please.âÂ
If telling him to cum inside you didnât make him cum, it was the please that did it. Rafe ruts into you, hips stuttering as he fills you with each squirt of him cum. The warm feeling making you moan and flutter against him. He rides out both of your highs, hips finally stopping when they met yours, keeping you plugged. He want to stay there, wants to just feel you, wrapping his arms around your body. Heâs enjoying knowing you are stuffed full of him, that his cum is so deep that it's forced out around him. Pulling out slowly you both hiss, you at the feeling of him spilling from you, and him as heâs fixated watching it come out.Â
Kissing you for a moment, Rafe pulls away walking to the sink, wetting a rag before going back to clean you up. The touch is so gentle that it barely hurts. He helps you put your clothes back on dragging the both of you over to the living room. He throws himself down on the couch taking you along with him, pulling you closer . âWhat happened last night.â You hand playing with his shirt stops. âHuh?â Moving your head to his shoulder you look him in the eyes. âYou were crying last night. What happened?âÂ
âOhâ Trying to shift away from him, being blocked by his arms tightening keeping you in place. âIt was just some fight with my parents. Itâs nothing.â âIt is something, it made you cry.â You wish he would stop trying to pry, itâs not as if he cares. Honestly you expected him to flee once your clothes were back on. Pulling you to the couch was unexpected but asking you to talk about your parents was too much. Too personal. The lines of friendship and having feelings are already getting muddled as it is, this would just push it further.Â
âHey.â Itâs soft, lips brushing my forehead before he places a kiss there. âYou said we have to communicate, right? Talk to me.â With a sigh you tell him everything. How since you were barely able to work you gave them all your money last night. âThey expected me to just hand over 4,000 dollars like itâs nothing. Then when I finally put my foot down Iâm a disappointment. Nothing I do anymore is right.â Rafeâs hand rubs your arms trying to soothe you.Â
âYou arenât a disappointment. If they canât handle the fact you have your own life then fuck them.â You slap his chest lightly. âIâm serious. Youâve done more than enough for them, if they canât see that then itâs their loss." A moment of silence, his words soaking in as you both lay there. âThank you. Iâ You donât know what else to say, fingers tracing shapes along his chest.Â
âI know what youâre feeling. My dad um he always lets me know how much of a fuck up I am. I know what itâs like to be a disappointment, you donât even come close.â The confession felt foreign on his tongue. Rafe never opened up to anyone about his feelings, anytime he tried he was met with a âman upâ or âthis is how a man handles thingsâ, heâs scared of what you will say. He feels you slip from his arms, closing his eyes not wanting to see you leave him alone, trying to calm the burning behind his eyelids.Â
âI donât think youâre a failure.â Blue eyeâs open to meet yours, thereâs a hint of vulnerability from what you can see. You lean down pecking his lips, pulling away to get a better look of him. âYouâre more than what he sees. Itâs a shame he doesnât take the time to notice.â It was your turn to leave him without words. Heâs searching your eyes, your face, for any sign that you were lying. That you were pitying him after he devolved a hidden secret. He knows youâve heard his Dad yell at him but this is different.Â
He can put on a mask after talking to Ward when he has to see you. This time he tore the mask off, wanting you to see him without the facade. âI donât think that about you.â âHuh?â You respond with confusion filling your face. âI donât think that youâre trash. You are probably the best thing to come out of Outer Banks.â Heâs not lying or at least you donât think he is. The look in his eyes tells you that he actually means it so you smile down at him. âThe best thing huh.â You tease. âDonât push it.â
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Zayne x reader x Rafayel? Love triangle, jealousy.....
I wish you could be mine
notes: i hope you like it, and iâm sorry for the wait :) i didnât know for sure which one should be the jealous one so i made them both jealous.
contains: zayne x reader x rafayel, love triangle, jealousy, sfw.

Zayne has never considered himself a jealous person. He believed that jealousy is something temporary, which makes you waste time worrying, while you could solve that problem.
That is until, for the first time in his life, Zayne became jealous.
It all started with a conversation, you telling Zayne about the time you spent at Rafayel's house while he was painting. About his fabulous paintings and about the talent the man had.
Talent? Didn't he have talent? He was very talented with his hands, doing many difficult operations. Maybe it wasn't enough...
Jealousy is born from insecurities. Hearing about the time you spent with the other man in your life, Zayne wondered if he gave you too little time to make you fall in love with him. The hours spent at the hospital now seemed too long, and the desire to spend more time with you grew.
âIf I spend time with her, he won't have time to meet her,â he asked himself.
But that was almost impossible for a renowned surgeon. Operations upon operations, emergencies upon emergencies and many other cases, Zayne was forced to take his mind off the burning desire to be in your presence 24/7.
However, this did not stop him from fighting to win your heart. He invited you to dates more often, he left work faster than usual, and his gestures were sweeter, made with more love.
Late night dinners, candles, compliments. All this made you wonder if you were interpreting the situation correctly or if your mind had gone crazy. You knew Zayne wasn't good with words, his personality being much colder than other people's. However, you liked the warm feeling that dates with him give you.
âWe can stop by after work, what do you say? I heard that a new product was added to the menu.â he asked you on the phone, heart beating fast.Â
âYeah, of course. Let me finish here with Rafayel and Iâm coming.â
However, after so many attempts, this Rafayel did not disappear from the story. Who was he, so important to you?
Zayne saw him a few times on TV, the man was a well-known and rich artist. He was not so wow. Zayne could recognize, the man was handsome and had money, he was tall with an enviable physique. But he? He also had money, an enviable physique and was tall. And he was attractive, according to many of his colleagues. He was also smart and knew you much better than Rafayel did.
So why not him?
âSo why not me?â Rafayel asked himself, after hearing your conversation with Zayne.
He was hurt by your words. Now you were with him, why were you talking to someone else? Why were you planning to leave him and go to another one? Rafayel could not explain himself.
"Who was it?" he asked, looking at you, who was sitting on the couch with the phone in your hand.
"Zayne. He asked me out."
"Like a date?"
You didn't give him an answer. That made Rafayel lose his cool. The man was jealous of another man, both fighting for your affection. Is it worth it? 100%
Rafayel saw the doctor several times when he accompanied you for some tests at the hospital. He was tall, handsome and calm. It gave off a cold, robotic vibe.
Did you like this? A heart of ice?
He certainly didn't have it, his personality being the exact opposite of Zayne's, but he didn't feel like he was behind in the race to win your heart. You spent a lot of time with him, giving your opinion on the works he made, many being dedicated to you without knowing it.
Jealousy was a whore. He felt terrible, but if in the end it meant she would be his, he could resist. He promised himself that no matter what, the years spent waiting for the love of his life would not be in vain, so that he will win your love.
Without knowing it, Zayne made the same promise.
But well... When two fight, the third wins, right?
#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace#love and deepspace xavier#xavier love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#zayne fluff#zayne x you#zayne love and deepspace#zayne x reader#zayne#love and deepspace rafayel#rafayel x reader#rafayel#rafayel x you#love and deepspace zayne#love and deep space#love and deepspace fanart#xavier x reader#jealousy#jjk#headcanons#oneshot#one shot
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Being the older itoshi sister



Tagging @zendersenders
Rin:
đ Tsundere brother. Heâs your littlest brother so bear with him okay, heâs the youngest. He doesnât act like it though. He likes to think heâs way more mature for his age, which isnât necessarily true as he has lots of mood swings and outbursts. Will never admit it, but he also sometimes has temper tantrums. But he finds them embarrassed and will deny ever having them.
đ he said would trust you more than Sae, heâll tell you his secrets and feelings. But only if you promise to not snitch it to Sae. Heâll sometimes cry, but he doesnât find it as embarrassing since heâs with you.
đ If you follow school abroad heâll miss you dearly, heâs not one to text first or everyday but he will make time for it somewhere in his busy schedule. Heâll respond to your stories or just tell you things about his day
đHeâs more of a caller than texter. Or heâll send voice messages to you. Half of the time you can hear him out of breath since heâll probably sent the messages after soccer practice. He would probably walk home with his phone still open, hoping youâll see it sooner or later since he doesnât want to talk with you at home. Otherwise his parents are all nosy and up his business.
đ âsister! *pant pant*â âhey Rin, whatâs up?â â*pant* can you sent me money? I want to buy some snacks after practice.â âWhere are you now?â âIts break time. Can you sent me money?â âSure! Iâll sent you 20 bucks.â âThank you!â
đ He hopes you visit him a lot. Preferably more than Sae. But he also knows that the both of them are your brothers and doesnât push in that regard, he will get jealous if you spent more time with Sae than him. He doesnât want to be left out because you and Sae are both adults.
đ you two probably share a playlist, and most of it are english songs. It will help him with his English. He probably listens to the neighborhood and chase Atlantic. He would 100% stress about concert tickets if they were coming to japan. Ofcourse hell but you one too.
đ He will never admit it but it makes him happy if you go to his matches or practices. He sometimes searches the seats to see if he can spot you sitting in one of them, he hopes youâll see his important matches bo matter what. Whether itâs in real life or on tv.
đHe hopes that youâll see his matches before Saeâs. He knows that Sae is your brother too and that you love him but Rin wants to be your favorite and trustable brother. He feels as if heâs better than Sae if you love him more than him.
đ He sometimes has his emo phases where he shuts down and doesnât speak a lot, itâs mainly because of how he feels or it has to do with Sae. Heâs not one to tell his feelings to you, most of the time he does but not always. Sometimes he cried, but at least now he doesnât have to cry on his own, he can cry with you by his side. And that gives him some type of comfort.
đ be ready to have a clingy and rather possessive Rin if he finds out you have a partner. Rin wants to know everything. Why them? Are they good for you? Will they treat you well? He wants to meet them. Heâll wait. And if he doesnât approve he better not see them again. No scummy partner will ever enter your life.
đ Sometimes Rin becomes emotional, very emotional. Whether itâs sadness or anger. He expresses them very intensely, thatâs why he sometimes might say hurtful things or words. But at the end of the day he never means them. Doesnât take away that they hurt though. He does feel a lot of guilt and might end up crying and apologizing to you for it.
đ Heâll be your best friend. So please consider him yours. Youâre his sister, the only sibling still talking to him. He doesnât befriend others often nor does he talk to his parents. To him youâre currently the most important person in his life. He loves you a lot even if he doesnât show it. No questions asked.
Sae:
â¤ď¸ Sae is around your age, and way more mature than Rin. He doesnât really bother you because of that and because most of the time heâs in Spain. He also doesnât talk much, like as if heâs always sleepy. No he does not lack sleep itâs just how he looks so no worries sister.
â¤ď¸ Sae isnât the one who contacts you first nor tried to keep to conversation. Heâs busy with a lot of things. Itâs no question that he cares for you, there just is only so much time in one day. He has matches, interviews, contracts, practice and a lot more. He hopes you understand how busy he is and that itâs not intentional.
â¤ď¸ Unlike Rin, Sae isnât emotional but rather rational. He keeps his cool and thinks straight and logical. He does have a sharp tongue, but swallows his words when it comes to you. Youâre his elder sister and he respects you a lot, such words arenât meant for you.
â¤ď¸ Sae would rather see you in person than on texts. He watched your stories and sees youâre online but will not sent a message until you sent one first. Heâll often leave you on read. Itâs not meant to be offending, but rather that heâs busy or just doesnât wish to engage in the conversation further. Heâs tired okay? He hopes you understand.
â¤ď¸ it had been stated that Sae thinks that Rin is in his ârebelliousâ phase. That caused him to be rather confused if Rin snaps at him, which causes Sae to come to you. He often talks to you about Rin as Rin hinself doesnât even talk to Sae when heâs back in Japan.
â¤ď¸ As the older sister, you will have to deal with Sae not understanding what is up with Rin, and Rin hating Saeâs guts. This puts you in a rough spot. Both of them knows you love them very much. But in contrast to Rin, Sae doesnât seem to mind you spending more time with Rin. After all, Rin is the youngest and needs to most attention because heâs needy. At least thatâs what Sae thinks.
â¤ď¸ He does make an effort to see you. It might not always feel that way, but he does go on a plane and see you from time to time if his schedule is cooled off. To him the not everyday talking works great. That way the moment he sees you he has a lot to listen to and maybe talk back about some things happening in his life too.
â¤ď¸ Sae doesnât mind you having a partner. He thinks your old enough to know whats best for you and trusts you in that too. Ofcourse if it doesnât end up working heâll always be there for you. Only thing he wants is that you keep an eye out for yourself and that your partner isnât hurting you. He doesnât necessarily need to meet them but if you insist he wouldnât mind.
â¤ď¸ if you live abroad heâll also visit you, but then heâs more willing to go out and explore where you live. It feels rather fresh to him when heâs somewhere different than Japan, as if he can breath. He will avoid public spaces a lot because he doesnât want to be recognized. He might stay at your place for a few days before eventually going back to Spain.
â¤ď¸ He will give you random things from Spain, whether itâs a photo, a souvenir, typical spanish snacks or something else. Heâll always bring you something. Itâs one of the rare moments heâll text you and ask you what you want from Spain.
â¤ď¸ Unlike Rin, Sae doesnât seem to mind if you donât come to his matches. If you watch them on tv heâs happy. But if you donât he doesnât mind it. Seeing them irl is something he doesnât expect. Especially if you live abroad or in Japan. Flights and Hotel costs are expensive. His tickets always get paid by the manager, he will try to get them to also pay yours. But he also understands if you donât feel comfortable by it.
â¤ď¸ Sarcastic asf. It depends on how you take it but sometimes it just floops out. He doesnât want to be mean but itâs in his system. Itâs never curse words but more comments and he always seems to pause after he says it because he didnât mean to say it out loud. He usually says that to others and can be seen as harsh or rather blunt. He tries to watch his tongue, he really does
â¤ď¸ Sae loves you without a doubt, the same goed for Rin even though he might not show it. He doesnât see a need for friends or to actually regularly contact someone. But heâs happy that your the glue that sticks the bond with him and Rin. He knows youâre in a rough spot and tries to make it less harder for you. But he is grateful that youâre here to help him and the babiest of brothers, Rin.
Thatâs all yallđ
#bllk fanfic#blue lock#rin itoshi#itoshi sae#sae itoshi#bllk sae#bllk rin#blue lock itoshi rin#blue lock itoshi sae#itoshi siblings#itoshi rin#itoshi#rin itoshi x reader#sae itoshi x reader#itoshi brothers
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His Haven
Homelander x Psychiatrist!Reader Pt. 1?
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
When Homelander first met you, he just came in because Madelyn cooked up some scheme with Edgar to 'prove' that the members of The Seven were sound of mind and could pass a psychiatric evaluation similar to the one used in the army. Of course, you had been paid a lot of money to do the evaluations and even more money to ensure that these heroes passed no matter what they said. You were a respected psychiatrist in your field; thatâs why Madelyn wanted you specifically.
Homelander went to his appointment, planning on leaving until you said something that caught his attention. You said, 'I am here for you. I took this job because you all spend your days helping and saving people, but at the end of the day, who helps and saves you? Obviously, I couldnât physically save you, but I can be a place for you to talk if you need it. Nothing you say will leave this room.' Boy, did that stroke his ego in all the right ways. He decided to stay. Something about you was comforting, and he wanted to talk, so he started small with the obvious stuff. He led the conversation by making off-handed remarks about being better than everyone and having to be perfect for Vought. It was clear you didnât understand his pain, but you were listening to him. You were actually listening to him and responding.
You werenât like Madelyn, who seemed to argue with every other thing he said; you didnât respond with dismissive and uncaring responses like Queen Maeve, and you could actually keep up with the conversation, unlike The Deep.
Homelander surprised you and himself when he began attending regular scheduled sessions. You usually led the discussion by asking various questions. Some questions he would lie about, not feeling totally safe to dive into certain topics, or he would just dodge the question and change the subject. Homelander knew you noticed this because anytime he did either of those things, your body language would change, and you would write something down in your little notebook. That notebook had made Homelander incredibly nervous until he found out you were not in there calling him a useless pussy. You were just simply writing topics you two had discussed and what topics made him uncomfortable.
You seemed to actually care about Homelanderâs feelings, even the bad ones. Stan Edgar put Homelander in his place, and Homelander looked down avoiding Edgarâs pointed gaze like a child being scolded by their father. Homelander needed some reassurance, but he would never admit that willingly. Homelander felt weak and stupid for needing someone, but you didnât seem to mind even when he was ranting and raving, so he went to you. You had been his haven. The one person he could confide in and actually be himself.
He arrived at your office in the morning while you happened to be filling out some paperwork. He knew you didnât have any appointments today because this had been previously the day Vought scheduled for the evaluations of the heroes. Homelander spent the whole day pestering you. 'What are we doing now?' He asked, not entirely oblivious to your mild frustration. 'Still just filling out paperwork,' you replied. He rolled his eyes. 'God, your life is so boring. Go to work, talk to the crazies, fill out paperwork and go home, and you do that all alone? I forgot how boring normal people can be.'
You laughed before telling him, 'no one is keeping you here.' Homelanderâs jaw tightened. This pissed him off. Youâre not supposed to say that. Youâre supposed to offer to do something more fun. You seemed to notice that 1,000-yard stare he has as he retreats into his own mind. 'Look, I just mean that I have to finish work. I know itâs probably boring you to death just sitting here; you donât have to stay if you donât want to,' you told him, which seemed to make him feel a bit better, but heâs not entirely out of his head. 'Itâs fine, we can just talk while you work,' he tells you with a feigned smile.
Homelander begins to perk up while you finish your paperwork and finally asks you the million-dollar question, 'What are we doing when we get home?'
'I am going home to cook up some dinner and watch some television,' you told him, trying to hint that you were wanting to be alone. Homelander was undeterred. 'What are we eating? I could use a home-cooked meal. We could watch one of my movies. Iâve been told Iâm a great actor.' Homelander needs you to agree and compliment him. He desperately wants you to tell him he does a good job, even if youâre just talking about acting. 'Yeah? Your movies are pretty famous,' you say, accepting your fate that he isnât leaving you alone tonight.
The night is spent with him at your house. Homelander wastes no time making himself at home and pilfering through your things. He feels comfortable being so ensnared in your scent. He becomes more comfortable as the night carries on. You fix his plate and drink for dinner, and the two of you share a dinner that he perceives as romantic. Your food isnât as good as the private chefs at Vought, but Homelander loves it because he got to see the love you put into making it just for him.
You two clean up together. Itâs really you cleaning, and Homelander helps by talking about which movie of his you should watch tonight. Finally, you try to retire to your room, but he follows. 'I thought we were gonna watch a movie⌠it doesnât have to be one of mine,' Homelander tries not to sound too desperate, and he hated to say that last bit.
'I had planned on watching something in my room, but you can come lay with me if you want,' you tell him reluctantly. Homelander is excited but tries to keep that hidden. You two lay down and begin watching one of his movies. By the end, Homelander is 'asleep.' He knows you canât tell the difference in him and ignores you when you gently shake him trying to wake him. Heâs not the biggest fan of sleeping in strange beds, but for you, he can make an exception. Next time, he wants you in his bed though.
#homelander x you#reader x homelander#gender neutral reader#homelander x reader#homelander fanfiction#homelander#the boys fanfic#the boys#the seven#tw: homelander#psychiatrist!reader#psychiatrist x character#fem!reader#male!reader#nonbinary!reader
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Ë ŕźâĄ â・Ë
spoiled!reader who grew up going to a prestigious boarding school nestled between mountains in switzerland. breakfast at the dinning hall involved freshly baked pastries, aristinal breads, cheese boards, and locally sourced fruits that aren't even in seaosn. she gets taught latin on wednesdays and fridays, and horseback riding is part of the curriculum. fencing was optional, and the classes were always crowded, so she chose polo instead. the uniform was a crisp white blouse, tucked neatly into the pleats of italian cotton plaid skirt. the navy blazer, with the school crestâa silver eagle-- hand embroidered and shining proudly on the pocket. shoes had to be only the finest leather shoes, matte not shiny so no one stands out, and preferably with a inch or two heel for the girls. she detested the uniforms because it made everyone bland and constricted individual expression. also: her prada heels were not made to wear with an ugly plaid skirt.
as a result of being away from home so often for most of her childhood, she grows up quite detached from her parents. she's independent but because she really had no other choice. birthdays and christmases were always lavish, but never sentimental. every year she would get an email from her parents with a short, straight forward "happy birthday" and some more money added to her card that day. even though her family had a lot of it, money was always conditional. fatherâs greetings over the phone always start with âifâ and motherâs favourite word was âbutâ.
"if you continue to get full merits on your quarterly report cards then we'll buy you that bag you've been asking for" or "your teacher says you have gone down a rank-- from top of the class to third which isnât too bad but itâs disappointing" and "if you want to be home for Christmas, you'll finish and submit your project early or else Daddy won't pay for a flight"
as a result, spoiled!reader grew up thinking money was conditional. that whenever someone spent money on her, she needed to do something to earn it. but when she met leah that all changed. spoiled!reader will never forget their first date when she offered to split the bill (like she does with every single date she has ever been on), but leah adamantly refused. she waited for the condition to come, the "well since I payed you for you, owe me another date" because it always came sooner or later, but there was none. leah ended up getting that second date, and the third and the fourth...
so now as you ascend the stairs into the looming doors of the school entrance, it isn't as scary anymore. what used to be a place of dullness and routine, is now a mere memory tucked into the furthest places in your mind. you pull the hand that's holding leah, eagerly stepping into the grand foyer where you recognizes a few familiar faces. your pink Fendi heels, shiny not matte because you want to stand out, click clanking against the marble floor as you lead leah into the high school class reunion. some of the people in this room you have not seen once in 10 years.
"are you ready to meet the most pretentious, self-absorbed people you'll ever meet?" you whispers to your lover.
leah entwines your fingers together and gives you a grin. "remember, the safe word is apples"
in the middle of the conversation between acquaintances not friends, they speak about their current lives. subtle drags about how they can appear more fulfilled and better than the woman standing next to them. talks about law school and medical school, about how hard it's been to manage their careers. fruitless stories about how they were all busy these days that it was even a miracle they could attend the reunion. eventually, they turn their conversation to you. "what are you doing these days?"
swallowing the last sip of vintage white, you smile. "I still work at the magazine but part time now"
"oh."
you catch the note of pity in their voices, willing yourself to hold the smile threatening to crack on your face. you wanted to yank the tacky pearl necklace that rests against her collarbones. Veronica never liked you, even back then.
"Don't you want to do something with your life? You know, instead of wasting your days at some desk job"
Leah stiffens beside you, her grip on your hand tighter than it was a minute ago.
"I don't mind it, actually", your reply is curt. "My job allows flexibility for when I have to join Leah for away games and whenever I have to travel with her for work. One day we'll be in London and the next day we'll be in New York for fashion week events"
They nod along but they're obviously not too impressed. which is fine because you weren't here to impress them or participate in this little game they've invented about who has a better life post-high school. "I'm actually quite spoiled these days"
"Ahh still being spoilt by mummy and daddy?" she meant it teasingly probably but you caught the hint of scorn in her tone.
From your peripheral, you notice Leah talking a small step forward, positioning herself so that she is almost shielding you from the rest of them. her height towering slightly over the other women in your group. you notice the stiffness in her jaw and the way her eyebrows lift in mockery. she chuckles slightly into the rim of her wine glass "yeah her daddy definitely spoils her"
Ë ŕźâĄ â・Ë
idk what I just wrote but i typed out that last bit with the biggest cheesy grin on my face lol
I'm sorry if this wasn't exactly what you were asking for, anon. if you want something else please send me another prompt in my inbox <333333
*This work is my original creation. Please donât copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission. Thanks for respecting that!
#daddy leah#<- spread the agenda#spoiled!reader#leah williamson#woso#spoiled!reader stories#anon fic requests#woso community#woso fanfics#woso x reader#leah williamson x reader#woso imagine#leah williamson imagine#woso blurbs#awfc x reader#awfc imagine#blurbs
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may i please request florist!san who secretly likes a regular at his flower shop, then he learns that she finally recently broke up with her ex so he does all kinds of things to cheer her up like slipping in cute notes or chocolates in the flowers she buys and to also maybe shoot his shot đĽšđ
thank youuu and no need to rush! please do take all the time you need đŤś
San (ATZ) | Flower Shop AU + hidden notes fluff | 0.9k | gn!reader
The change wasnât immediately recognizable for what it truly was.Â
You mightâve missed a few weeks, which was concerning, but San understood that life happens and sometimes thereâs just not enough time, money, or even energy to come to the flower shop, to keep the house looking pretty.Â
And of course he spent the better part of those weeks worried if youâll ever show up again.
Some little part of him hoped that you wonât - the unselfish one, the one that only cared about your happiness as he tends to care about all strangers that come to his shop. If you never come again, then perhaps your manchild of a boyfriend has finally grown into a full fledged man and started buying you flowers like you deserve instead of leaving you to do it yourself.
It was just one of the few pieces of information he got from the limited amount of small conversations you had. Your boyfriend would give you a couple bucks and tell you to go buy yourself some red roses. An exact amount that would in no universe be covered by the money he gave you. Truly, San wonders why you bothered with that guy.Â
You deserve better. You deserve someone like him - but thatâs only what the selfish part of his heart keeps telling him.
Things are different now, though. Something changed. Youâre back to getting flowers, but theyâre not roses anymore, and the bouquets are smaller. They also suit you more. You seem genuinely happy getting them.
San feels torn about it, although heâs mostly curious.
Until one day he sees your phone light up just as youâre about to pay, a name briefly flashing on the screen. You decline the call with lips pressed into a thin line. Itâs not the time to be nosy, itâs not his place to ask-
âIs everything alright?â he asks carefully, then upon meeting your eyes he panics, âItâs just you seemed upset and youâve been missing beforeâŚâ
Heâs just making it worse, he knows, but he hopes you can just take it as him being concerned about his business and not creepy. You study his face for a moment before sighing.
âWe broke up,â you say simply, âAnd he keeps calling so thatâs a little annoying.â
âOh,â is all he can say.
And oh is all he can think for the rest of the day. Week, actually. And then he gets it together.
âTogetherâ in a way that is perhaps concerning in its own way.
It might be too much - it is too much and wholly inappropriate. But San feels like a madman on a mission, hyping himself before the final stretch as he looks at the handful of notes and another small pile of envelopes.
The notes should be fine - theyâre just generic words of encouragement, some may be a little too sweet for strangers, but not too much. The envelopes, well, they hold his heart. He must be in his right mind still if he thought to start with the notes and see how you accept them.
âŚAnd that doesnât apply anymore weeks later when heâs stealthily slipping the first envelope into the bouquet before wrapping it for you. His heart is about to burst and youâre looking at him with concern. His hands are shaking, but at least you only noticed now.Â
âAre you alright?â you ask, brows furrowed.
âYeah, of course,â he smiles. Itâs easy to make it genuine.Â
âIâŚâ you hesitate and he leans closer, nodding at you to continue, âI know I never said anything, but I wanted to thank you for the notes. I mean, you probably noticed I started coming in more. They just really helped me get through the hard times.â
He did notice. He also noticed you slowly opening up, lingering, gracing him with short conversation each time.
âIâm glad,â he says and he means it. Even if nothing comes out of this, making you happy is enough.
âSo I was wondering, would you like to go on a date with me?â you bite your lip, âIf youâre okay with going slow-â
âYes,â he interrupts before you can change your mind. He already saw you spiral into overthinking many times, heâs not gonna do it today. âAbsolutely. Just, uh, could you give that back to me?â
He points to the wrapped flowers in your hands. You look at him with a suspicion. âWhy?â
âI donât want to embarrass myself and make you change your mind, please?â he begs. Suddenly he canât remember whatâs written in the short letter. He only knows itâs sappy and pathetic.
âIs your number there?â you chuckle.
âAmong other things,â he admits. For once he doesnât like the way your smile grows bigger.
âThen if I like the other things I will text you,â you seem so satisfied with yourself, San is in love - and shambles, âIf not, Iâll come here again and pretend I didnât see anything. You can ask me on the date again if the note doesnât work.â
Thatâs not the issue, the note isnât asking you out, he wants to say, but youâre already turned away from him and walking out. He canât speak, his tongue feels too heavy and his mind is blank. Slowly, he feels a smile stretching his lips against his will.
Maybe you like losers, he hopes.
#ateez reactions#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#san x reader#ateez x reader#ateez fluff#san scenarios#san fluff#atz imagines#atz x reader#atz scenarios#drabble#requested
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