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opinated-user · 2 years

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WHY does Lily think people get off to hurting female characters? There's "beat them to death with a fucking rock because they're vile human beings who get off to the suffering of women and non white people." from her last video but there's also her freakout from her video on The Legend of Korra where she says that 1. only Korra is shown being beaten up in the series (a lie if you watched even a handful of episodes) and 2. the only reason she gets beaten up in fights instead of coming out without injuries is because the writers get off to it.

I don't know how to explain it to her but sometimes bad shit happens to characters and no one is masturbating to it. It is, in fact, extremely unusual for anyone to masturbate to or be aroused by these things. So why does she keep acting like this is NORMAL?

Anecdotal evidence for my point: even super misogynistic men I know were incredibly uncomfortable in my Public Speaking class when I talked about a subgenre of porn, ryona, that's currently getting banned off of most websites. In ryona porn, the sex does not make up the majority of the video, beating up a woman does - and even the fucking INCELS in my class looked ready to vomit. There are very, very, VERY few people who get off to violence and suffering. I won't say they don't exist, but even people who hate women are usually not into it and even people who are in favor of consensual rough sex are repulsed by the concept of beating someone up being an arousing thing in and of itself.

For once it's not projection since there's no ryona in Lily's Sankaku faves, but that just makes me more confused, not less. Where the fuck is she getting this from?

this is going to be pure especulation from my part, full tinfoil moment... but i do think that she's projecting. remember all the times we spoke about how LO always had to slip something abusive on whatever relationship she's writing and then tries to gaslight the audience into thinking that it's wholesome? well, the modern example of that is clearly whatever is happening between G and CLO but before that was stockholm. i know that when talking about that series most people immediately jump to Rainbow Dash being written as an offending pedophile but there's actually a b plot that is the whole reason why the story is called stockholm: that of Ascentia and Twilight. their conflict is that twilight is horribly agressive with ascentia, slapping her around, raping her multiple times, kicking her, and she does it publicly and never faces any consequences for it because Ascentia has developed stockholm and the physical abuse is what she has come to expect, so twilight essentially is encouraged by the narrative to keep abusing. the other day i was talking with someone about stockholm and they showed me a post where the co-author, Nintengogal55, talked about a particular scene that was so extreme that actually brought her to tears.

Okay, this other one was for a shot we currently haven’t released yet. Without going into too much details, it involved the CMC and it was so awful. I would read all of my original fanfics from ten years ago than ever write or read that again! I didn’t just hate how the scene became, I felt physically uncomfortable reading it and writing it. It wasn’t just uncomfortable, it was painful. All throughout Stockholm, the worst I ever felt was sad. Now sad, I can handle that perfectly fine. Even the descriptions of the domestic abuse, while unnerving, weren’t graphically written and didn’t affect me that badly. Yes, Ascentia terrified me in the story, but I can also handle fear. But physical discomfort from writing/reading something so terribly uncomfortable and painful? No way. I was, honestly, on the verge of TEARS. Thankfully, Bhaalspawn understood and offered that we make it less…like that. It turned out so much better after that. I am forever thankful for his compassion and letting us re-do that scene. <3

it was LO's idea to make that scene. i don't know what scene was, i don't want to imagine it, but if it had such a strong reaction on the co-author, who already was up for the most disturbing aspects of this story then it had to be graphic, it had to be visceral and it had to be a especial kind of awful. the CMC are a group of literal children on the story so this scene, whatever it was, it would have involved children going through something so graphically horrible that the co-author couldn't handle it. in stockholm there's a lot of reference to the abuse that ascentia goes through. she winces she has to sit because twilight literally made a tear on her ass, she gets an arm broken so it has to be put on a cast and there is a scene where twilight goes feral on her, breaking her nose and her ribs. ascentia goes through hell and in my opinion it's not made any better by the fact that it's "off screen" because we still read about the results of that extreme abuse. to what i have been told, something similar happens on her fanfic previous to stockholm. on the ones where she introduces Matt Ryder (her self insert, remember that) there's many one scenes where Meg (only Meg, never Matt) gets abused as well and it's treated like a joke or a minor thing not worth paying attention. you could say that LO back then was trying to imitate the "humor" of FG by constantly bashing Meg, her favourite character, but considering that she just kept doing that with later works? i don't know. broken champions, the fanfiction that LO wrote about anevay and only shared for a server? the exact same thing happens, although for one the abuser of anevay wasn't her love interest and those abusers are cartoonisly evil before they get punished. but the fic still spend so much time describing all the different ways in which anevay was tortured, raped, branded, mocked and broken down. one scene could have been enough, but it happened so many times i had to skip entire parragraphs because it was making me so uncomfortable. someone could potentially say that was a survivor of abuse venting about their experience and using a fictional character in order to live through something horrible and get the desired comfort at the end. i can see that point of view. fiction can be a great tool for therapy that way. but it just hit me right now, as i was reading your ask, that could also just an excuse. why else would she keep sliding abusive dynamics into her "wholesome" works? why does she keep accusing others of specifically "getting off" to scenes of women suffering or being beaten? there's a lot of abuse and rape on her sankaku account, so why this kind of interest would be out of place? see the thing in common between all these characters (CLO, ascentia, meg, anevay)... these are all characters LO claims to care about and love. LO multiple times directly says that she makes anevay suffer the worst just because. i believe she's projecting and we can see that on her writing more than on her porn accounts. i'll admit i could be seeing something that's not really there and there isn't any real evidence for what i'm saying, but i believe there's a coherent pattern here and it makes sense with all we know about LO.

#lily orchard

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vinbee631 · 10 months

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Prologue/1 - I’m Never Gonna Not Dance Again

Prodigal Sons and Daughters Alike

"Sanders’ Academy of Arts is one of the top schools for artistically talented students. Many hopeful children spend years preparing for auditions and working on portfolios, yet few receive the acceptance letters they dream of. The amount of rejection letters distributed annually is devastating.

Roman and Remus Malik, like many hopeful others, were attempting to not be in the unfortunate majority of rejected candidates."

Welcom in, chapter one! Title is, obviously, from the song by P!nk and yes all the chapter titles are songs, I am a music nerd and quite proud of it! :)

Art had been a crucial part of the twins’ lives since they knew what it was. Over the years, Remus’ talents in drawing and painting flourished, and Roman picked up and maintained the art of dance from just about the moment he could walk.

His first dance class, a silly thing consisting of a small bunch of confused four-year-olds, made Roman cry when it ended. Remus spent every recess in kindergarten, first grade, and second grade making art. It was only when his teachers intervened, concerned he wasn’t getting enough physical activity in the day, that he was forced to stop.

From then on, their parents put a lot of time (and money) into the boys’ dance recitals and art showcases. They found the best thrift stores for costumes and even went to real costume stores when Roman got old enough. They spent what seemed like hours debating the best kinds of oil paints and canvases, most of which they still didn’t understand.

And after all of that, the twins still kept their motivation for the arts. The only thing stopping them from doing what they loved all the time was mandatory public school.

Remus quickly provided a solution to that problem.

Because of his participation in a particularly prestigious art deco, he was introduced to the idea of attending a specialty arts academy. While the sponsor he’d talked to had recommended a school in the area, not two days later he did a bit of research on the idea nd stumbled across Sanders Academy in Ocala, Florida.

As soon as Remus showed his brother their website and the application criteria, they were both set on getting in.

Thankfully, their parents were more than supportive of their idea to attend a private art school. They encouraged an application to a less impossible-to-get-in school as a backup plan, but they knew the twins would be perfect for this school.

Or, well, Remus would be perfect for it.

Not that they didn’t support Roman! He was overjoyed that they had taken the time and money to send him to just about daily dance classes, and he couldn’t be more grateful for it. It was just…

They saw Roman’s interest as more of a hobby. In Remus, they saw the potential for a career, a successful lifestyle.

With Remus, any art project for an exhibition or just for fun was encouraged. The practice was moving him towards more and more success, after all.

When Roman needed to pay for another dance class or put together a costume for his solo performances, there was a little more resistance.

“Still persistent about this dance thing? I figured you would have grown out of it by now.”

“For just a hobby, you seem to be very invested in this. Wouldn’t you rather spend time with your friends this weekend?

“That’s great honey, but you need to finish your homework before we go out. School takes priority over shopping.”

Ever so slowly, they began to push back on the one thing Roman loved.

So, whenever Remus rushed into his room one night with his completed application for Roman’s approval, asking how much work he had done on his own, Roman realized this was what he needed to convince his parents about his abilities.

It seemed like every second sped past far too quickly after that, the weeks of choreographing and re-choreographing and paperwork and categorizing all his former dance classes gone in a flash.

It had been weeks, yet it felt like a day, and it was time for his audition.

Remus and Roman spent hours, both the night before and the day of, barely sleeping in between, preparing everything they could possibly need. Backup paperwork was signed, transcripts were triple-checked, and Roman finished programming an edited version of his audition song so it matched his dance exactly.

Remus, the lucky bastard, didn’t have a true ‘audition’ but compiling one portfolio of ten pieces was no easy feat. Despite the touch of jealousy that he didn’t have to deal with a presentation, Roman admired his twin’s work, as always.

That didn’t make it any easier to stop completely stressing out when he realized they had to leave in an hour.

As they ran around the house, making sure nothing was forgotten and that everyone would be prepared to leave in order to not be late, Remus took it upon himself to oversee Keep-Roman-Calm duty.

Currently, the aforementioned brother was trying to convince himself he had definitely forgotten something, and that very something was going to be the downfall of his audition.

“Alright, enough, Ro. Look at me. You’ve checked over all this shit at least sixteen times now and made me and Pop check it again at least four more times.” Roman scoffed and averted eye contact at the reminder. “I’m serious, Ro-bro. We’ve got everything under control. It’s gonna be fine.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” Roman huffed, “but I- maybe I should just check again. ‘Cuz, ‘cuz I gotta make sure I have all this stuff. If something happens and I’m unprepared, I’m gonna make a terrible impression!”

“I mean, I guess first impressions are pretty important, but not checking-a-seventeenth-time kind of important. These people understand mistakes happen, and at the end of the day, if you nail the dancing shit, they’re not gonna care about that. You- do know your dance, right?”

“Of course, I know the dance,” Roman scoffed. “I made it.”

“Exactly! Then you got nothing to worry about! C’mon, let’s go watch something mindless until we actually have to get ready. Sound good?” Roman reluctantly agreed, following as his brother tugged him excitedly downstairs and flopped on top of him on the couch to keep him there.

After half an hour of Roman staring blankly at the wall instead of watching TV with Remus, he sighed and sat up, pulling his brother up with him.

“Alright, look,” Remus started, tapping Roman’s nose to get his attention, ““this clearly isn’t working. You wanna talk about what’s really on your mind or should I get off your case and let you get ready to go?”

Roman looked conflicted for a beat, biting his lip in thought. “Do you think I’m- cut out for all this?” He blurted out after a moment.

Remus blinked at him, staring like he’d grown another set of eyes. “What? Of-fucking-course you are!! Why wouldn’t you be? Have you seen yourself dance before? It’s amazing! You’re so passionate Ro, they’d be crazy to say no.”

Roman frowned “I guess. I just… Mom and Pop don’t seem to like the idea of me doing the dance stuff full-time. They think it’s just a hobby. And… maybe they’re onto something.”

“Aw, Ro,” Remus sighed, “if that’s the case, they don’t know what they’re talking about! If I can do painting and shit for the rest of my life, you can do dance. And besides, I’m not going to this fancy school by myself, I’d die of loneliness!”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine without me. Besides, we don’t even know if I’ve gotten in yet. There’s no guarantee I’m coming with you,” Roman pointed out.

“Uh, yeah there is,” Remus countered, “because I’m not leaving without you, that’s stupid. And if we don’t go to Sanders’ together, we’ll go somewhere else! We gotta… I can’t be famous by myself! You have to come with me! We’ll be art buddies! The- the…. The Creativitwins!!”

Roman laughed, leaning against his brother. “The Creativitwins, huh? I guess I like the sound of that. Sounds like a plan, then, if you’re sure.

His twin grinned, flopping on top of him with a content sigh. “Uh, of course, I’m sure! Now, you feelin’ a little better about this thing? You’re gonna do awesome, by the way. Gonna fucking crush it. Cooler than anything I’ve ever done!”

Roman rolled his eyes fondly. “Maybe not that cool, but I get the point. I… thanks, for this. I guess I really needed it.”

“Yeah, well, there’s nothing wrong with needing help. And hey, when we’re both going to this fancy-pants school, we can help each other with whatever, anytime! ‘Kay? We’re gonna do great together, I’m sure of it.”

“Okay, okay, I get it, thank you. God, you’re so cheesy sometimes, it’s terrible. I dunno how I put up with you,” he joked

“Maybe a little cheesy,” Remus agreed, “but I’m not that unbearable! Why else would you hang out with me all the time?”

“Because I live with you, I’m, like, forced to be in your presence,” he deadpanned, but a giggle at the end gave him away. “D-dammit.”

Remus snickered, sitting up so he could properly tackle his brother. “Now you’re just being an ass on purpose!”

“Ree!” Roman laughed, pushing at his shoulders. “Stop it! You are terrible, I was just messing with you!”

“And so I enact my revenge! Now you really are stuck with me!” Roman continued to laugh along with his brother and eventually gave up on trying to wrestle with him, settling into being trapped again.

“So, how long you gonna hold me here?” Remus shrugged, keeping a tight hold around his waist. “Eh, however long I feel like, but I’ll let up when it’s time to leave… How much time do we have by the way?”

“Oh, about fifteen minutes,” their father interjected, seemingly amused by the two’s antics he must have seen. “That is, if you still want to leave a bit early.”

The two made frazzled eye contact before scrambling in unison off the couch, rushing to their rooms to get all the stuff they needed piled into the car.

“Alright, alright we got my portfolio, both of our paperwork. Uhh, lemme look… here’s yours, uhh… transcript, essay, painting timelapse, and letters of recommendation. Hey, you got all your paperwork stuff?” Remus listed off.

“Uhh, yeah, got the… transcript, essay, dance recording, score recording, and… letters! Oh, and the speaker and cords, and the CD. We’re good!”

Finally, after everything was sorted and emotional problems dealt with for the time being, they were on their way out. Ten minutes early for leaving early.

Well, it was good to be prepared, right?

Surprisingly, despite arriving nearly 20 minutes before his audition was supposed to happen, the proctor was already there. He greeted them as soon as the twins bounced out of the car.

“Hello, boys. Er, one of you is Remus and one is Roman, pleasure to meet both of you… whichever one you are,” he joked with a smile.

Roman was already starting to feel better about this.

He set his things up, and yes, he did end up remembering everything he needed, what a shocker! (Okay, you don’t have to pick on him! He was just being certain! This was a pretty damn prestigious school, okay? He had a lot at stake.)

Then, the dance started.

The song was fast-paced but manageable. With the help of one of his close friends from class, he’d come up with an equal blend of hip-hop style, and a more modern interpretation of ballet moves.

In short, it was fucking awesome.

He spun across the stage, a wide grin on his face at his favorite parts. His limbs flowed with the beat, movements as sharp as the snare hits. He lost himself in the moment, there was no one else here. It was just him and the story his dance was telling.

And yet, as soon as it started, the music stopped, and Roman’s dance was done. He heard someone clapping, but as he began to climb off the stage to see how he did, Remus rushed up to him and tackled him in a hug.

“Dude! That was so sick! What the hell were ya nervous for, huh?” Remus teased with a bright smile, picking Roman up and swinging him around. “R-Re! Jesus, put me down! Thank you, I guess, but- jeez, let go!”

Remus eventually conceded, ruffling his hair. “Alright, we’re in, right?” He turned to the proctor with a teasing smirk.

“If only it was that easy. That would save us both a significant amount of time, but you did an amazing job, Roman. And, I’m very excited to look at your artistry, Remus. We will try to let you know as soon as possible what our decision is, alright?”

Remus grumbled a bit, but there was no arguing. Of course, there wasn’t. They would just have to wait, the hard way.

The hard way was really fucking hard though.

Three weeks! The two boys sat around, barely paying attention in school (well, that wasn’t necessarily new), and barely having the focus to do the arts they enjoyed, their minds overtaken by the stress of the wait.

The letters finally arrived while they were at school.

Their parents, in their cruelty, waited until the boys were settled for dinner to present them.

“Well, boys, something exciting happened today.” The two of them glanced at their parents, confused. “Are we getting another dog or something?” Remus piped up. “Can we get a snake instead?”

Their Pop chuckled. “No, Remus, no more pets for a while. No, the exciting news has more to do with you two than it does with us. Here.” He handed the two boys each a letter, addressed to them with a clean stamp, from-

“Holy shit, these are the audition decision letters!!” To Roman’s surprise, neither of their parents criticized his brother’s language as the two excitedly ripped the letters open.

“Wait, wait, wait! We gotta read at the same time, okay?” Roman quickly nodded in agreement. He just wanted to see his, any previous frustration from math or his brother’s comments about it long forgotten.

“Okay, on three! …three!!” Roman rolled his eyes at Remus’s antics, quickly flipping open the letter and reading as fast as his brain could process.

Dear Mr. Roman Malik,

Here at Sanders’ Academy of Arts, we seek out the extraordinary, those that have worked at their talents continuously and excel at them. Through the short time we’ve known you, we’ve been able to experience a glimpse of your tenacity and talents.

That being said, we are more than pleased to accept you into our Dance and Performance Art program, beginning this coming Fall-

Roman stopped reading in favor of glancing up at his brother with a bright smile on his face. When Remus met his eyes with an identical expression, the two leaped at each other, hugging just about tightly as they could accomplish without completely falling over.

“We got in!!”

#sanders sides fanfiction #tss storytime 2023 #cw cursing #roman sanders #remus sanders #tumblr fanfic

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kevinstarck · 1 year

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How Content Consolidation Benefits in Improving Your SEO Performance

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#Content Consolidation #SEO #content marketing #content writing

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jovnie · 3 years

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Artificial Intelligence | Namjoon

Summary

Namjoon after wondering the internet, came across a website Ad for a personalized A.I made for him and only for his viewing pleasure.

Words 3k

Cyber namjoon au! College namjoon! A.i reader!

Warnings: smut, masturbation, virtual reality, moaning and heavily, medium amount of plot, kind of vanilla, riding, dirty talk, muscular joon. Oral (f), heavy whining, begging, dom joon, verbal joon.

With his eyes glued tiredly to the computer, his hand moved the curser to press play. This was his third year in college, being who knew what at the end. After years of tiredness from research papers to fieldwork, being a chemistry major wasn’t paying off one bit. Not his student debt either. Yawning, his arms stretched up and then out before returning them back to the slightly chipped computer to type the URL in.

With each little tap and click, he answered the questions before being brought back to the previous page. Groaning in utter frustration, he closed his computer and put his head on the computer before meantly screaming. He was half way through the questions and it took him out and how knows if he had 200+ more to do. Sighing, he lifted his head uttering, “at least its not the actual test”

With slight relief, he lifted the mac screen and saw he exited everything on accident. Giving up, he searched for a virtual teacher. With no luck, he stumbled across and Ad for an A.I. with an obvious lack of how the cyber world was or knowledge on A.I, he opened a new tab. With searching the key word. ‘A.I’ a small little text box appeared.

A.I ( Artificial Intelligence )

is an intelligence demonstrated by machines, as opposed to the natural intelligence displayed by humans or animals

After looking up the word and its definition, he thought he had a solid idea of what it was. Therefore he exited the tab and searched the subject and then Ai. After doing so he scrolled and clicked what he assumed to be a cite and looked at what it had to offer.

“This is neat. Ah, Let’s see where this goes! Maybe if I do this I can study with a human, I think?” He spoke aloud, looking at the options. Waking up a bit from the sudden excitement, he stretched his body and looked around for a notepad and pen. While doing so, a pop up appeared.

Stacy is single and is 65 miles away from you, wanna interact

Once namjoon returned, he saw the women and clicked off. He figured this wasn’t an appropriate or free ran website. Itching the back of his head, he continued until another pop up this time an ad appeared.

Create your own human A.I with unlimited uses here

Curiously he clicked the ad and saw you had to buy it, immediately he got up from his desk. Legs numb a bit from the lack of moment, he grabbed his wallet and took out his student card. Shopping he looked at the computer than a card. “Yeah no,” he laughed to himself, knowing he could catch a case he didn’t want so he grabbed his credit card before swiveling the chair to sit down. After blindly trusting the site, he was taken to the tutorial and saw a fully naked man on the screen. In shock, he shut the computer down to realize it wasn’t that A. I he needed. Sighing, he flipped the top back up and immediately felt hopeless with the exam. Seeing there’s a female version, he looked around to make sure none on the body was there. He knew he had the room to himself, but it’s still worth it. You never knew, who could be watching.

From there he closed his blinds, turned off the lights, and got back to the computer. He started to create your body down to the smallest detail. He had time as his classes for the week were canceled for finals and other school-related activities like college tours etc.

“Finally, you’re done and now we give you a name!” he smirked softly, rubbing his palm over his jeans on accident. With a few glances and searches, he named you y/n. Smiling, he pressed continue and saw there was an outfit room and spent a few more moments picking something cute, casual and sexy for your body frame. After that was done, he pressed continue. Suddenly there was timer and another pop up.

TIME REMAINING: 23hours 59mins and 23seconds

Thank you for ordering “Y/n” the A.I, everything is processing as you read. While you wait, please pick from the available voices and chose which one suits your needs “Namjoon!”

He had no clue what to expect, but it was worth the wait. Meanwhile, he spent an hour going through the types of voices he wanted you to have, till he could find your voice a perfect match for his needs. After pressing finish, he plugged his computer in and left his computer on as he got out of the chair and brought himself to his bed to sleep. Thankfully, he took a shower hours ago and was already more steps to sleeping than ever. Soon after, his head laid softly on the white pillow and his eyes began to close asleep.

The next day, around 5minuets, until it was time to see what he had gotten himself into. He moved his viewing location to his bed as it was simply more comfortable. Beforehand, he ate and cleaned out items he thought might me helpful with what he thought he’d get into in any minute now. While waiting with pain, he watched the minutes drop one by one until it was less than a minute and he grabbed his seanna drift, a virtual reality set made for his computer and recommended from an email sent to him earlier. He figured it came with more than just the yearly plan he paid for.

As his wallet cried, he read the direction of the screen ok how to connect the device to the website and began following the video instructions. As they told him where to find things and hook it up, he saw that it needed to charge and groaned loudly in annoyance. So he spent that saddened hour, cleaning his room till he saw green and followed the instructions once again.

“Okay ready!” he said, as the Vr headset and earbuds sat softly on his head. With wow and o’s he saw you in this basic room with the lights off and sudden shoe-making noises. Turning his head, he saw you turn on the lights and sat on the bed in front of him. Looking around he took note of his virtual surroundings before grabbing his flashlight and pouring lube he had trouble finding on the table and poor it inside the toy.

Waiting for you to make a move, he got up and placed his computer on the bedside table, and laid on his back. As shirtless and gray sweatpants he was, he still felt clothed. In that moment he took off his sweats, leaving his boxers on he noticed the screen changed onto the bed and it spoked him slowly. With you laying on his chest, he grabbed a free pillow and hugged it as if you were there.

“You feel warm” you chuckled, as namjoon blushed in the shock.

“Thanks, I guess you can see and hear me?” He asked, rubbing you “the pillow softly”

“I can, my system works like an actual person” you mentioned look g him in the eyes. Confused, he hummed in agreement. Whining, he was very pleased with how human you were and a bit concerned as well. He was amused and amazed at how advanced society had become.

After small talk, he warmed up to your very realistic body, voice and actions. Not to mention his hands moving slowly up and down his length as he watched you shower and how cute you looked when you did. Moving a bit faster, you looked and the system told you he was jerking off.

In a surprise you turned around and looked at him, covering your body. With him in tune with idea, he smirked. “what’s wrong baby? You don’t like when I view your body like this?” He asked, grinding his hips against the pillow.

“Well, um I do. Its just new to me okay” your system lies, as it registered grunts from namjoon.

“Well can you turn around for me?” He adds, taking his toy and liking it up to his actual length. Nodding, you turned around and bent over. As namjoon said his movements as listed in the tutorial earlier, you opened your legs as if he was spreading them for you. Holding onto the wall, he said more commands, and eventually, it looked like he was fucking you and it caused an involuntary grunt from his mouth.

“Fuck!” He cursed, sliding the toy up and down in a slow pace as he watched how his camera was moving. Looking at you he got up from a lying position, to his knees and moved the pillow into a u shape and placed his toy so it could feel more real to him.

Hearing your soft moans and a good view of your ass, he began to thrust faster into the toy, holding the pillow down as if he was your back and began moaning curse words. Luckley his head gear caught that and made your moans shift to match his rhythm.

“Ah! Ah! Please don’t stop!” You moaned, griping the shower walls looking back as his eyes wondered your body and all heard from him were grunts. Keeping your ask, he tried pacing himself so he wouldn’t cum too soon as the feeling was slowly building the more he got more into it.

“God! Fuck” he cursed again, as his head went back imaging you bounce back on him. Moving the toy to the desired speed, he kept going closing his eyes and listening to your moans as he reached his end. Jerking forward once more, his cock twitched as his cum spilled inside the toy. After coming down from the slight high, he looked at you who was hard breathing, body slightly shaking and a stream of cum laced your ass with grace.

After today’s use of the A.I he unplugged the device and let it charge. Shortly after, he exited the screen you were on and went to take a shower. Reflecting and thinking how could he make this experience even better and with that thought, he googled the company and saw they made Bluetooth connected toys. Browsing he found a torso toy and paid the extra $15 for the next day delivery. Smiling, he closed his computer and went to beg shortly after.

The next night, he had the box that contained the sex toy. He took it out and realized he picked the right color and body for you. As he read the directions he plugged it to charge and went to do some light reading verire coming back. Seeing the full bars on the side of the torso toy, he grabbed his headset and plugged everything in and made sure the section was secured.

You have connected toy 1251819, your system will now function off of movements from the toy and vr audio. Please speak select the place you wish to be in

After reading namjoon said “library” soon after, you showed up in the same outfit as he picked, sitting in the chair.

“Oh hi namjoon! What are you doing here?” You asked, smiling and putting the book down?

“Well I’m light studying for our test, mind if I join you?* he tells, as the vr moves his view next to you. While he looks around in his vr set, he notices your in a secluded area. As his hands move around the half thigh it registers and you blush slight.

"Sorry” he apologized, looking you up and down. As you told him it was okay, the screen of consent popped up and he knew it was okay to touch you. In that moment, he got on his knees again this time with a body like toy underneath. He instructed you to strip and as he watched you take off your clothes he rubbed his length in his bare hands.

“Good girl now gets on your back for me on the table,” he praised, watching you as your legs reminded closed. Opening them on the toy, you followed. He rubbed his hands around your thigh and rubbed around your lips till he found your clit and gently rubbed you in circles as you began moaning for him.

“You want me to stop?” He smirked, nodding no he stopped.

“Then tell me what you want” he adds, rubbing and teasing the area slowly. After explaining that you want him badly and would do anything, he removed his hand and rubbed his tip around your entrance.

“Please, please namjoon. I want it badly. You felt so good the last time” you told whining softly.

“Oh, you liked that?” He smirked chuckling softly under his breath. Nodding, he lubed you up hearing you moan to his touched, and soon began softly thrusting into you. Griping your shoulder softly, he stuped down your breast. As he began sucking on them soft, he moved in deeper feeling the toy clench on him. Surprised he jerked forward and went faster. It really felt similar to phaycal and actual human body. He continued thrusting, leaning over the you and the sting harder as grunts and your moaning filled his ear.

“S-so big namjoon, it feels-” you interrupted with a moan and he groaned feeling the toys warmness and the wetness of the amount of lube in you.

“Mm keep talking baby, tell me how good it feels!” He demanded, groaning and curing as he went harder. After a few words, his body started going faster as it started to feel too good on him. He told you to just moan and take him as he began chasing his high, which was beyond what he knew. As you moaned his name and reacted to his length and speed, namjoons grunts turned into soft whines and moans as he enjoyed himself with you.

“Oh you feel so good baby” he breathed out heavily. “Ah don’t stop cumming for me” he added, as the system didn’t stop cumming on him causing namjoon to thrust harder as the machine started releasing water already put in the toy on him. Feeling even more organic, he rubbed your clit getting you to choke on your moan as he went harder. Groaning deep and now at an animalistic speed the bed started speaking and his body kept going as he became more vocal with the feeling.

“OH GOD IN CUMMING!” he announced yelling, cumming so hard he started feeling sick and breathing so deep it made the feeling even more unbearable. Coming once more, he fell on top of the toy and laid there till he was able to come down from his high and plug his stuff back up. Looking he saw that not only did his toy break, but his computer was also malfunction with errors on the screen.

With not a lot of energy, he closed his computer and sat the now broken toy beside him as he breathed heavily. Not to mentioned the multiple knocks at his door, he assumed where from one of his neighbors.

“Just his luck” he whispered as he softly passed out sleep.

#bts fanfction #bts x reader #bts smut #bts #bts fics #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon fanfic #kim namjoon #namjoon #au #bts fanfic #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x y/n

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chaoticpuff17 · 3 years

Text

Suga We’re Going Down

part 5

masterlist

alright my darlings! here it is, and its a long one! and I have some links for you today! you can visit the National Palace Museum here! The website allows you to virtually explore this beautiful museum! as well as a link to the song she plays later in the chapter here. Enjoy, my darlings!--- chaotic puff

Everything was better when she was with Eun Jae. Her little guy was her favorite person in the world. Halmeoni was confused as to why she was spending a Monday night at the house, but she allowed it without too many questions. It was one of the things that Y/N loved the most about the old woman. She knew when to push, and when to let things lie. Halmeoni knew that she was knew that Y/N would talk to her when she was ready, and Eun Jae was happy to have his mother there with him.

He was a sweet kid. He really was, and there was nothing she loved more than cuddling up with him, but their little bubble had to burst eventually. The next day came too quickly for her, and much to her horror, Jackson was waiting for her outside when she and Eun Jae left the house both with their backpacks on.

“Miss Kang.” He greeted smile bright on his face until he caught sight of the toddler hanging onto her hand. His expression dropped into one of shock before a softer smile crept across his features. “Hi, buddy.” He greeted bowing slightly to the toddler who immediately hid behind his mother’s leg. Jackson was unphased though. “My name is Jackson. What’s yours?”

Eun Jae looked up at her as if asking for confirmation that it was okay to interact with this stranger. She nodded giving him a soft smile of her own as she gently pushed him forward. “Go on.” She encouraged not wanting to be rude. It was important to her that Eun Jae grew up with good manners. She did not want him to end up like his parents or her parents for that matter.

“I’m Eun Jae.” The toddler muttered ducking his head quickly before burying his face in her leg again.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Eun Jae.” Jackson stood up rubbing his neck as he glanced back at the car. “We’re going to need to get a car seat installed.”

Y/N froze. “You’re not going to have to tell Mr. Min about this, are you?”

Jackson’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Mr. Min doesn’t know?” She shook her head. “I don’t…”

She glanced down at Eun Jae making sure he was distracted before she started speaking to Jackson her voice low and rushed. “He’s my sister’s kid. She walked out, so he’s mine now. Mr. Min doesn’t need to know about him. My family doesn’t affect him.”

Jackson nodded in understanding. Family was family. Business was business. He could respect her wish to keep her family out of it, and the fierce spark in her eye was enough to convince him that he didn’t want to mess with her when it came to her family.

“I won’t lie to him, but I won’t tell him either.” He promised. “Do you have a car seat we can use for now?” She shook her head no. “Okay…” He thought for a moment. “We could….”

“I’m not taking him in that car without a car seat.” She snapped seeing the direction his thoughts were going. “We’ll take the bus like we normally do, and if you really want to drive us, you can come pick us up, with a car seat, at the end of the day.” She nodded giving him a firm glare before she smile turning back to the toddler. “Let’s go to the bus stop, buddy. Say bye-bye to, Mr. Wang.”

Eun Jae unburied his head from her leg and waved goodbye shyly.

“Bye, Eun Jae.” Jackson waved with a smile of his own as Y/N led the little one away a little more quickly than she would have normally.

She just wanted everything to go back to normal, but it was too late for that now. She’d already signed the deal, and everything else would have to wait until they were back on their feet and far away enough from financial ruin that there was no need for her to be signed away to Min Yoongi. But that was a long way off as of yet. For now, she’d focus on Eun Jae and classes. There was no use worrying over things she couldn’t change.

She dropped Eun Jae off at his preschool and then made her way to her own school. She’d see him later. She’d promised Halmeoni that she would drop him back off, as she had a doctor’s appointment today and couldn’t pick him up herself, and neither of them trusted her father to get him from school. If they did that, Eun Jae would never get picked up, and they would receive a very angry phone call from the preschool wondering why no one had come for Eun Jae.

Thankfully the day passed much as it always did up until her classes were over, and then there was Jackson waiting for her with that damned car.

Despite her sour look, he met her with a smile.

��I got the car seat!” He announced proudly as he opened the door to the backseat for her.

“I can see that.” She sighed as she slipped inside. “It’s a bit early to pick up Eun Jae yet.” She informed him. “I usually go home after class, but Halmeoni can’t pick him up today.” She explained.

“Well, what would you like to do in the mean time?” He asked as they pulled away from her university. She was silent thinking it over, and Jackson was suddenly struck by how young she was. She looked a little lost sitting there in the back of a car that was much too large for just one person. “Perhaps, we could go to spoil you for a moment.” He suggested.

“What do you mean?” She asked staring at him in the rear view mirror.

“Well, you have to go meet Mr. Min eventually, and he would want you to treat yourself.” He shrugged. “Get your hair done, your nails. Go buy yourself something nice. It’s on his dime.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “I really don’t think…?”

“You’re Agust D’s girl now. You have to look like Agust D’s girl. And you never know when he’s gonna call for your first date. Don’t worry. He’ll pay for it.”

She hadn’t thought about that. Technically, Yoongi was responsible for her clothing budget, but would it be added onto her payment like a reimbursement or did it only cover the things he wanted her to wear? But then again, Jackson said it was covered, and he’d been so nice. Maybe it would be okay to do something for herself. She was meant to look a certain way, she supposed.

“So what’s it gonna be, chickadee?” He asked flashing her a smile in the mirror.

“Nails maybe?” She fidgeted uncomfortably not knowing what to do. It felt odd to have access to someone else’s bank account.

“Nails it is.” Jackson nodded driving them off in the direction of the nearest nail salon.

As weird as it all was, she had to admit it was nice to get her nails done. She never had them done before, not professionally at least, and this was better than anything she’d ever been able to do on herself. She was musically inclined, not artistically, but there was still a feeling of guilt, of spending money on herself when her family needed the money far more than she needed a manicure. Her nails were never long anyway. Musicians didn’t normally keep long nails. It was odd to see them painted so prettily.

Staring down at her nails she had to wonder if this was going to be her life now. Would she have to look all put together all the time? Would she be constantly worrying that Yoongi would find out about Eun Jae? She didn’t want to be constantly worrying. She knew worry. She already had too much to worry about, and worry was exhausting. She couldn’t afford to be any more exhausted than she already was. There was too much to do these days.

She glanced down at her phone wondering when her first summons would come in. He had promised she’d be seeing him soon, but when was soon? Did they start having their meetings this week or next week? Either way she was expected to meet with him at least three times a week, not counting extra meetings he could ask for. Those at least she could refuse so long as she had a good reason, but she was smart. She was sure she could get out of a good majority of the extra meetings so long as Yoongi didn’t catch onto her dodging him.

She knew she wouldn’t be able to avoid all extra meetings, but she could dodge some of them. She’d have to. She needed time with Eun Jae, and she knew that weekends would be hard to balance between Yongi and Eun Jae especially when she hadn’t told Yoongi about Eun Jae’s existence. They were the two men in her life even if Yoongi’s stay was only temporary. That did not make him any less a part of her life though. For now, at least, he was quite a major part of her life, and she’d have to treat him as such.

“Where to now, miss?” Jackson asked pulling her out of her thoughts.

“The preschool.” She gave him the address with a strained smile as she began to wonder how she was going to balance everything out. She had other jobs. She had school. She had Eun Jae. She knew this was the best way to settle their debts, but what had she been thinking when she’d agreed to this? How was she ever going to make this work?

Jackson took her home after they dropped off Eun Jae with Halmeoni. She rather unfortunately had a date to prepare for. She’d gotten the text while she’d been signing Eun Jae out of preschool. It was short, precise, a simple message saying for her to be ready by seven o’clock and the promise that appropriate attire would be delivered to her home. Other than that and a promise from Jackson Yoongi and his driver would pick her up later, she knew nothing.

When she arrived home, she was met with a package on her doorstep. She had to give it to him, he was nothing if not efficient. There was still hours before she expected him, but it at least gave her time to get ready even if he hadn’t told her where they were going.

The box contained a modernized hanbok. The top was done in layers. The first was white, and undershirt. The second was in a lovely shade of purple that trailed down towards her knees, and the last layer was a black jacket type piece. There was a black pair of pants to match, and a thick traditional style belt to tie everything together. There was also a pair of ankle boots which to her immense relief looked comfortable. The heel was thick and not too high. She could actually walk in them. Anything too tall or with a stiletto was always a bit of a challenge for her. The next thing she picked out where the two smaller boxes that contained her jewelry for the evening. One was a pair of lovely earrings, the other was a hair pin. It was a lovely piece with the main part crafted too look like a branch while the decorative piece at the end was fashioned into tiny silver leaves and little off shooting branches that surrounded a smooth round piece of jade with a silver stripe slashed through the middle. It reminded her of the moon.

There was one final thing in the box that caused her to laugh in disbelief. There sitting in the bottom of the box was something she had skipped over when she was looking at the hanbok and the shoes and jewelry, but there sitting at the bottom of the box, was a coat. It was a long thick wool coat that would hang down to her mid-calf. At the very bottom of the box, underneath the coat there was a note written in short quick strokes. The letters scrunched together slightly. It was the handwriting of someone who was used to writing in a hurry.

Because you won’t wear mine.

She had to laugh at that. He was respecting her wish not to wear his coat while at the same time taking care of his worry over her own coat. It was as sneaky as it was caring, and even she had to admit that it was a better coat than the one she had. It was warmer and better quality. And she very begrudgingly had to admit that she loved the entire outfit especially the coat.

She passed the first few hours till her date on homework. She had to get it done at some point after all. Even if she was a sugar baby now, school came first. School what was going to help in the long run, not Yoongi, but that didn’t mean she detested lesson planning any less. It was a necessary evil even if it left her wondering for the thousandth time why she had chosen to go into education.

Homework could only keep her occupied for so long though. Eventually, she had to get ready. It was simple enough. All she had to do was throw on the provided outfit, slap on some makeup, and pull her hair up into a bun sticking the hair pin through it, but then she was left to twiddle her thumbs as the minutes ticked by until Yoongi’s arrival.

In hindsight, she had begun getting ready too early. Now she had all this time on her hands to sit and think about what she was about to do. She had always been a worrier, and years of experience had taught her it wasn’t good to sit with her thoughts when she was nervous. The pent up nervous energy had her pacing the floor as she revisited the urge to tear her hair out from the roots. She hated that feeling, the feeling that your stomach is trying to crawl out of your throat. Worse than that, she felt as though she was going to crawl out of her own skin. She was buzzing with nerves.

Part of her couldn’t wait for Yoongi to arrive just to get this first date over with, but another more prominent part of her hoped that he would never arrive. But it was too late for thoughts like that, wasn’t it? She’d already signed the contract, and she was bound to it for a year. She could survive a year. It wasn’t like Yoongi was a creepy old man. He was young and handsome too. He was even kind, from what she had seen at least, and yet something just wasn’t right. He made her just the tiniest bit uneasy, and she couldn’t place her finger on why.

There was nothing about Yoongi that should have made her uneasy. He had been nothing but kind to her so far, but that didn’t stop that spark of unease telling her something was not quite right. She was determined to brush it off as nerves though. It had to be nerves just jumping to the worst case scenario as her mind was prone to do. She could blame that lovely habit on her wonderful parents. They hadn’t been a shining example of a good life. Something was always wrong when it came to them, and they’d taught her to expect the worst. It was almost a relief really that her mother was gone. She didn’t show up often, but when she did, she always brought trouble with her, and they really couldn’t afford any more trouble at the moment.

There was a knock on her door that pulled her out of her thoughts with a jump. That had to be him. With a deep steadying breath she got up and made her way to the door making sure to pull the coat closed around her before she did. There was nothing revealing about the outfit that he’d picked out, but she still felt exposed, but that had to be nerves as well. He made her nervous in a way that was completely different than the unease he gave her.

It was his eyes. Those eyes seemed to see straight through her without ever revealing anything about himself. They were almost catlike. He reminded her of a stray that used to hang outside of the restaurant. He was an old ornery creature, scruffed up from one too many fights with the other cats, but he had those same eyes. He’d stare at you as though he knew everything about you, and as a child, Y/N really believed it. She had been convinced that the cat knew all the secrets of the universe. Halmeoni had done nothing to dispel that belief either. She’d treated that scruffy old tomcat as though he was a prince. She’d told her that cats were bad luck, and that the old tomcat was a bad spirit. She kept the animal fed and watered as a way to appease the bad spirit. Now as an adult, Y/N wasn’t so sure that the cat hadn’t been a bad spirit. Her family certainly hadn’t had much good luck over the years, but it also wasn’t as bad as it could be.

Yoongi was like that cat. He, or at the very least the situation, was bad, but it wasn’t as bad as it could be. She doubted though that Yoongi was a bad spirit come to torment her family. He was honestly the best luck they had had in a while even if it wasn’t in an ideal way.

She opened the door with a smile and was met with Yoongi standing there waiting for her with his hands tucked into his coat pockets.

“Hi.” She murmured shuffling her feet awkwardly.

“Hi.” He murmured back offering her his arm with a small almost imperceptible smile of his own. “Let’s go.”

“Lead the way.”

She took Yoongi’s arm and let him lead her towards the elevator. “I see you got the coat.”

“I did.” She agreed suppressing an awkward smile not sure what to say or do with herself. “It’s very nice, thank you.”

“Well, you didn’t seem to want mine.”

“Oh!” She groaned before looking at him apologetically. “I completely forgot to give that back to you. I can run back up…”

“It’s fine.” He interrupted his lips quirking up a little bit on edges. “You should keep it.”

“It’s really fine!” She rushed. “I can just take the elevator back up. It’ll only take a minute.”

“Keep it.” He insisted his first actual smile of the evening stretching across his lips. “It looked good on you.”

He found the stunned expression on her face cute. Everything about her was cute, especially the blush that heated up her cheeks as she averted her eyes. She was just so innocent. How could anyone not like her? How could all those people in her life leave her in the mess that was her life? How could her family have put her in this position to begin with? On the one hand he was grateful that they had. It meant that he got her. But on the other hand, he was just so angry on her behalf. She was too sweet to for her family. They didn’t deserve her, sweet soul that she was.

“So, where are we going?” She asked as they walked out to the car.

“It’s a surprise.”

The drive wasn’t terribly long, but it was quiet. Neither she nor Yoongi were much for small talk. He didn’t seem the kind for small talk, and the jitters had left her grasping at straws for something to say. Coming up empty, she settled on silence. It was mercifully not an awkward silence though. She kept her attention on the city going by outside the window, and Yoongi, unbeknownst to her, kept his attention on her until they reached their destination.

“The museum?” She asked as Yoongi helped her out of the car. “It closes at six doesn’t it?” She turned to him in confusion, tugging her coat tighter around herself to ward of the evening chill.

“I rented it.” He shrugged wrapping an arm around her waist as he saw her shiver. He couldn’t do much for her until they got inside, but he could offer her what little body heat he could with a simple gesture.

“You rented the National Palace Museum?” She asked staring at him with wide eyes as he steered them towards the steps leading up to the entrance.

“Yep.”

“Just like that?” “Just like that.” He nodded leading her up the stairs. “I need to do some research for an upcoming mv. Thought it would be more fun with company.”

“So you rented the museum?”

The concept was mind boggling for her. Who rented a museum? She knew he was famous, but couldn’t he go to the museum like a normal person? Plenty of celebrities went out. A hat and a face mask worked well as a disguise, and no one would be expecting Agust d at the National Palace Museum. It didn’t exactly fit his image. The big tough rapper going to the museum? She didn’t think so. His fans wouldn’t exactly be looking for him there.

“Seemed like a nice date, and you don’t seem like the kind of girl who goes to clubs.” He shrugged again as the climbed the steps.

She bristled at that. “I go where you want me to go.” She sniffed straightening her spine. She knew she shouldn’t be offended. She wasn’t the kind of girl that went to clubs, but she was bristling anyway.

“I didn’t mean it badly.” He chuckled looking down at her fondly. “But this seemed like a better option, and I’d appreciate the company.”

She sighed forcing herself to relax as they reached the top of the stairs. “So what kind of mv are you making that needs research at the National Palace Museum?”

“It’s for a track called Daechwita. I wanted a historical vibe for it.”

“Daechwita is a traditional type of music.” She nodded understandingly. “Military march or royal procession type of vibe?” She asked as Yoongi helped her out of her coat once they got inside.

“Bit of both.” His eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of her in the outfit he had picked out for her. It looked better than he had imagined it would.

The layers of the hanbok draped around her elegantly while the colors complimented her skin and hair wonderfully. It wasn’t sexy per say, but it was extremely hot to see her in something he had bought for her. His mind was already whirring with the possibility of all the things he could fill their wardrobe with. He planned on spoiling her rotten.

He liked seeing her hair pulled up as well. It exposed the length of her neck to him. He couldn’t wait to mark up that neck. She’d look so good covered in his marks, but she wasn’t ready for that yet, but soon.

“Then we’d better start researching.” She smiled eyes sparkling with excitement as Yoongi shed his own coat.

She couldn’t lie. She really did prefer the museum to the club, and the idea of being able to wander the museum after hours with no one else around was too exciting to pass up.

Yoongi grinned following after her as she wandered off into the first exhibition room.

He didn’t have to follow for long though as he found her just past the doors examining the first of the exhibits, a painted screen and a throne.

“Joseon Dynasty.” She said her arms folded comfortably around her. “The museum focuses mostly on the Joseon Dynasty. This screen, well the scene on the screen there are two more upstairs, traditionally sat behind the throne of the king.” She explained her eyes glued to the painted silk in front of them.

“It’s not a very intimidating throne.” He commented stepping up next to her. “Doesn’t look comfortable either.”

“Well, if you were king, you could make your throne look however you wanted.” She shrugged. “There’s been more than one throne, but the screen is traditional.”

“Why?” He asked wanting to hear her talk more. She was relaxed for once. She was never relaxed with him, and he didn’t want it to end. It was also cute to him how she seemed to know so much about the exhibit. She’d probably been before, but she was looking at the exhibit as though it was the first time.

“It represents harmony and balance. See how everything is symmetrical, fitting of the perfection of the king?” She motioned towards the screen drawing his attention from her and back to the exhibit. “Everything in it is long lasting, the mountains, the trees, the waterfalls. It’s supposed to represent the benevolence of the royals.”

“Even if the royal wasn’t benevolent?”

“Even if they weren’t benevolent.” She agreed.

“I’d pick a more comfortable throne.” He mused eyeing the wooden seat.

“Well, it’s not for lounging on.” She laughed looking at him with a bright smile.

“It could be.”

“Lazy king. Lounging on his throne instead of ruling.”

“Maybe he was a tyrant.”

“Maybe.” She agreed. “But look how beautiful it is. The detail that went into it.”

“It’s beautiful.” He agreed looking at the golden creatures drawn all over the panels of the throne, visions for his mv already taking hold in his head. “Why the screen though?”

She shrugged. “Screens normally sat behind the seats of the powerful. You see them in every historical drama. Sometimes more than one. Royalty needs to hold a sense of divinity and majesty. Everything from the clothes to the jewelry to the throne needed to display that.” She explained her tone soft, respectful. “It’s why the throne was always on a dais and why the king and queen always had opulent robes.”

“You know a lot about history.”

She startled a little blushing sheepishly. “It was always my favorite subject in school.”

He hummed nodding his head as he turned his attention back to the throne. “So the king should definitely have a screen.”

She nodded gently. “And lots of things in gold.”

He held out a hand to her, palm up. “Shall we?”

She eyed his hand for a moment, trying to decide if she wanted to take his hand or not. It was such a simple thing, holding someone’s hand, but it was such an intimate thing as well. Friendship, romance, comfort. Those were all things that could be conveyed in the simple act of holding another person’s hand. She’d have to do things that were much more intimate in this arrangement though, so she placed her hand delicately in his allowing his much larger hand to envelop hers as he led her to her next exhibit.

It was a case full of seals, all shaped like turtles. Each seal had a corresponding piece of paper stamped in red ink to show what the seal looked like when it was stamped.

“Why are they all turtles?” Yoongi asked staring down at the seals.

“Because they’re like dragons.” It was his turn to stare at her incredulously. Turtles like dragons?

“How is a turtle like a dragon?”

“They rule over all the bugs, and they live a long time, longer than anything else around them usually, like a dragon.” She explained smiling softly. “And turtles are cute.” She added on her smile stretching into a grin her nose scrunching up in a way that Yoongi found absolutely adorable.

“I still don’t think turtles are like dragons.” He shook his head repressing a grin of his own. It was so good to see her smiling though, not nervous smiles real happy smiles.

“Agree to disagree.” She shrugged before tugging on his hand leading him further into the exhibit. “That seal across from us is King Taejo’s seal.” She explained pointing across the room. “It’s why it gets its own case.”

“How do you know so much about all this?” He asked as they moved further into the exhibit.

“My grandfather was a history teacher.” She explained her smile dimming becoming softer, sadder. “He used to take me here when I was little.” He hummed in understanding waiting for her to continue. “He died when I was seven, but I’ve always loved history because of him, and he loved this place.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“He was a great man.” She hummed tilting her head as she thought. She shook her head slightly before a bright smile lit up her features, bright but a little strained. “Come on. There’s a lot more to see.”

And that’s how they went through the museum. Yoongi kept her hand safely tucked around hers. She pointed out her favorite exhibits, laughing about how uncomfortable the royal women’s palanquin looked compared to the king’s, and Yoongi hung off her every word, attentively taking note of the things that he could incorporate into his music video. He found her knowledge of the museum and its artifacts endearing. Her eyes would light up when she showed him her favorite exhibits. She’d been so tense and hesitant when she’d first taken his hand, but now every time they slipped apart for even a moment, she didn’t even flinch when they rejoined their hands. She had even been the one to grab his hand at one point, and Yoongi was practically beaming.

He had wanted something more secluded and easy for their first date, but he had never expected it to go as well as it had. The museum, the dinner for two he had set up for them on the second floor, it was all more perfect than he could ever imagine. She was perfect. He never wanted her to stop smiling. He loved that smile of hers. Just from this one night he had a million ideas, songs he wanted to write for her, places he wanted to take her. She liked hanok houses? He would buy her one. He’d buy her a piano and a cello too, the nicest cello he could find to fill the house with music. He’d buy her anything she wanted so long as she kept smiling at him like that.

It wasn’t nearly as bad as she expected either. Y/N actually found herself having a good time. Yoongi wasn’t so intimidating after all. She still had a lingering sense of unease at the back of her head, but it was easier to ignore now. Even if the intimate nature of the outing was a little too close to a date for her liking, she could actually see herself getting through the year now. It wasn’t going to be so bad. It helped that he was a gentleman. He pulled out her chair, helped her with her coat, opened doors, all those things that gentlemen are supposed to do. The happy atmosphere of the evening came crashing down though when Yoongi drove her home, but it wasn’t her home.

All the nerves came back with a fury. She was inexperienced, but she wasn’t naïve. She knew what was expected in their arrangement, but she that didn’t mean that she wasn’t horribly nervous. Yoongi could see it too. He watched all the color drain from her face as they pulled up to his building, but he squeezed her hand reassuringly as he led her into the building dismissing his driver for the night.

“It’s okay.” He assured her gently ushering her into the building as the escape route drove away leaving her stranded with Yoongi.

She nodded nervously, looking back at the entrance as though the car would magically appear to take her back to her own home.

Okay. Everything was okay. That was what she kept telling herself over and over again. It had to be okay, but she couldn’t stop the way her hands were trembling, and she was sure that Yoongi could feel it. Her hand was still enveloped by his own. She knew he’d noticed. He squeezed her hand reassuringly as he took her up to his penthouse apartment.

She had to admit that his home was beautiful, but it was too large for just one person. The apartment was done in shades of warm gray, and even though it was large, it still had the appearance of being lived in. Shoes were scattered by the door not having made it into the shoe rack. He flung their coats haphazardly across the table in the entryway before giving her a pair of guest slippers to wear. There was a coffee cup left out on the coffee table, and sheet music spread over the piano nestled in the corner of the living room.

It was the piano that drew her in. It was a gorgeous instrument. Coming closer she realized that a lot of the sheet music spread across the instrument was hand written.

“Did you write these?” She asked turning back to look at him where he stood a few feet away.

“Yeah.” He nodded moving forward a little.

“For the same album that the new mv is going to?” She asked picking up a few of the papers to look over the notes scribbled down in the same scrunched up scrawl that the note from the box had been in.

“Some of them.” He nodded coming up next to her to look at the particular song she was holding. “That one is for something else though.”

“What is it for?” She asked looking over to him.

“Not sure yet.” He shrugged.

“Can I try?” She asked tilting her head towards the piano, and a gummy grin spread across the man’s face.

“Please.”

She took a seat at the bench as Yoongi helped her arrange the sheets properly. “You’re sure this is okay?” She asked her fingers hovering over the keys.

He nodded again, and she turned her attention to the music.

“What tempo?” She asked noticing the lack of instruction. But it was hand written, and that was to be expected.

“Andante at the beginning. It builds up to be allegro around here.” He pointed out a particular measure and she nodded in understanding before putting her fingers to the keys.

Hand written notes were always a little harder to read, but his hand writing was neat enough if not a little scrunched. Her fingers drifted across the keys filling the room with the sound of his music. Yoongi thought his heart would stop. Hearing her play his music, in his home, it was like a dream, and she was as beautiful of a pianist as she was a cellist.

Her fingers danced across the keys, her attention fully on the music. It was enchanting, and Yoongi knew he had made the right decision as he watched her play.

She filled him with the desire to compose as well as an intense urge to protect her. She was such a sweet soul, and he hated that she’d been driven to this even if it brought him her. He would protect her though. He would always protect her.

When she finished she folded her hands gently in her lap.

“You play beautifully.”

She laughed smiling up at him contentedly. “You compose beautifully.” She complimented before looking down with a blushed. “It’s late. I should head home.” She stood up skirting around the piano bench.

“Stay.”

She froze looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights. “What?”

“Stay.” He repeated. “It’s late. Stay the night.”

He could see the panic setting in as her eyes darted across the room searching for an exit. “I really should…”

He huffed amused a smirk playing on his lips as he watched her. “No funny business. It was a busy day, and I’m tired. Stay.”

He watched as she debated her option her eyes flitting between him and the door. “I don’t…”

“I’d like you to stay, but you don’t have to.” He assured her slowly making his way towards her.

“Just sleep?” She asked her voice shaking slightly.

“Just sleep.”

She waited a minute, debating her options before sighing. “Okay.”

part 6

#bts #bts fic #yandere bts #bts suga #bts yoongi #yandere #yandere suga #yandere yoongi #suga we're going down #suga #suga x reader #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #rapper yoongi #agust d #bts fanfic

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owo-shenanigans · 3 years

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Hajime, Korekiyo and Ibuki with a fem reader who’s the ultimate love interest? Basically is really good at being the perfect soulmate both platonically and romantically? I feel like these three would be interesting!!!!

This is so interesting????? Wtf man. Gender ambiguous reader, though I did write this from the perspective of the perfect female love interest at times. It might come across as me dissing your idea and I promise I don't mean it in that way- I just took it in the most interesting way that I could. I loved writing these so, so much- I wouldn’t be opposed to writing more, honestly. If anyone needs a CW or TW on this, let me know please.

Hajime, Korekiyo, and Ibuki with an Ultimate Love Interest S/O

HAJIME HINATA

You were scouted because one of the board members saw you and thought you were the cutest little thing he’d ever seen, and after the board investigated, they saw how everyone you meet can’t help but at least like you as a friend.

When you were told this, you were terrified. These creeps stalked you? For some stupid talent that no one can even quantify?! You were only 15, for god’s sake!

You… Don’t like practicing your ultimate. You try to stay away from the other ultimates, too. You don’t want to brainwash people! Or force them to be your friend!

Hajime came across you hiding in the library from the teacher attempting to make you go to your Talent Development class. He helped you keep a lookout, and, well, your relationship evolved from there.

Contrary to belief, Hajime doesn’t hate ultimates- he hates how the school feels like it only cares about the ultimates and not the reserve course students.

Your relationship develops slowly, and you only tell him your talent after a few months of friendship. How do they even tell you’re the Ultimate Love Interest? So many people have such different standards for their crush…

You probably confess your feelings to him when they try to take him away for the Kamakura project. You just saw red- first they force you into a little box and pick at any part that isn’t pretty and lovable, and now they want to take one of your only friends away?! Absolutely not. Thankfully (or not), your talent was able to save him from the project- this had the potential to gather more data about your talent, after all, if you have a partner.

Hajime probably helps you study at online school, after you confided that the main course barely taught anything actually useful. What could the Ultimate Love Interest do after high school with no new knowledge and a worthless scrap of paper? The Ultimate Mechanic could open a shop, the Ultimate Nurse work in a hospital- what could you do, write blog posts advocating for deeper characters in dating sims?

You make him reevaluate his perspective on Hope’s Peak, for sure.

KOREKIYO SHINGUJI

You were a lab grown specimen- the brain baby senior project by a whole group of ultimates, directed by the school directors. Could they create a person who holds the ultimate talent of something so subjective as Love? The students were directed to make an artificial intelligence that could make anyone love it. They were directed to make a body that would make no one unhappy. They were directed to make a creature that no one could hate.

You were born.

From the moment you opened your softly colored eyes, you were consuming data from dozens of the top dating sims, romance novels, online websites- carefully vetted by your parents so as not to corrupt you. You downloaded the latest fashion trends and taught how to make everyone happy without being wishy washy. You were perfect.

Your parents graduated, and weren’t allowed to take you with them. You were dressed in a cute school uniform and directed to act as human as possible- if you were revealed as an AI, the directors would pull you from your classes.

You joined the 79th class, and made fast friends with every one of them. Kokichi liked you because you liked his jokes, Miu liked you because you never made fun of her, Himiko liked you because you defended her lazy personality… Everyone liked you.

A month into the school year, your classmate Korekiyo tapped you on the shoulder and asked to interview you.

He asked you dozens of questions about your talent, how it worked, why you were chosen and why others weren’t. It was stressful. But it was the first time anyone had cared about you, yourself, as a person, and not what you did for them. You were hooked.

You spoke to him every day, unable to help yourself. Korekiyo, for his part, was happy to talk to you. Your classmates grew jealous as you spent less time with them and more with Korekiyo. The directors were confused- had they programmed in the ability to love? Or the emotion of curiosity?

They held off taking you in to examine you- if worst came to worst and you weren’t gathering enough data, they could always pull you out and wipe your memories of him.

IBUKI MIODA

You were human, yes, but sometimes you didn’t feel as if you were.

You were blessed with a beautiful, flawless face, and your body was one in a million. You were scouted to be an actor at the tender age of 12, and your life evolved into one of constant watch, constant judgement, constant etiquette classes and diets and everything to make you the darling of the media. You were quickly dubbed the cutest kid in film, which evolved into the Ultimate Love Interest before you hit the age of 14. Your life wasn’t your own. You weren’t allowed to consume anything that hadn’t been vetted for bad influences, you were severely punished for any words that weren’t kind and sweet.

You were a sweet dream living a nightmare. When the invitation to Hope’s Peak came in, you almost weren’t allowed to go- Hope’s Peak was notorious for not allowing outside influences in unless under strict supervision. What if you were corrupted?! You only managed to go because the paparazzi had seen the Hope’s Peak crest on your mail and raised a media storm about it, crying how the Ultimate Love Interest was attending the esteemed Hope’s Peak Academy.

Your manager was forced to let you go. But not without piling up the lessons even more, to make sure you wouldn’t be ruined.

Your first day at Hope’s Peak, you had a breakdown in your bedroom. Your schedule only had 4 things on the agenda- what were you supposed to do? Your purity would be ruined if you did anything wrong.

That was when Ibuki knocked softly on your door. You had never heard of her- you weren’t allowed to know of uncultured things such as rock music. She had heard you crying and offered to help if she could.

Ibuki became your emotional rock, and she helped you organize a schedule for yourself. Her peppy cheeriness was a stark contrast to your deep neuroticism. The rest of your class didn’t know your issues, but Ibuki helped you slowly look out from the walls that your media assigned talent had built around you.

When the photo of you laughing and smiling with Ibuki broke to the media, she helped you weather the storm that your fans sent, and barricaded your room from your manager when they stormed Hope’s Peak to get you out.

After a year at Hope’s Peak, you lost your talent of Ultimate Love Interest. And with it, you lost the cage that had trapped you within your own mind ever since you were 12.

#danganronpa x reader #danganronpa imagines #hajime x reader #korekiyo x reader #ibuki x reader #korekiyo shinguuji x reader

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thetravelerwrites · 3 years

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Dr. Mael Halvorg (Part 3) Lemon

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Male Part-Fae/Female Part-Fae Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Fae, Naga, Reader Insert, Genetics Content Warnings: Children, Pregnancy, Incubation, Oviposition, Egg Laying, Birth, Surgery, Male Infertility Words: 4029

Dr. Halvorg learns what could be causing his infertility and makes arrangements to try and correct it. He and the reader become closer, and the reader attempts to do something to help him feel less lonely and unfulfilled. Please reblog and leave feedback!

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Halvorg went in for the tests that same week, returning afterwards subdued and blushing slightly. You assumed he’d never given a… sample… before.

“How’d it go?” You asked him.

He rubbed his neck bashfully. “It was… thorough.”

You snickered. “At least it wasn’t a biopsy after an abnormal pap smear. Those are traumatic.”

He looked aghast. “I can only imagine.”

“Did they say when the results would be in?”

He shook his head. “No, they’re supposed to call me when they come back. Could be a week or so.”

You patted his arm softly. “How are you feeling?”

He sighed heavily. “Worried. This could change my life or confirm my worst fear. Either way, I’m… well, to be honest, I’m a little scared.”

“I understand,” You replied. “Well, no, I don’t. My family is disgustingly fertile. If I ever tried to get pregnant, I’m sure it wouldn’t take me long.” You looked up at him with sympathy. “But I do feel for you.”

“I appreciate that,” He said solemnly. He looked at you curiously. “If I might ask, how old are you?”

“I’ll be one hundred and seventy four years in August,” You said.

“And you’ve never considered having children in that time?” He asked.

“Not really. I figured I had enough nieces and nephews that I didn’t think it was necessary. I mean, I’m not against the idea of having children, I’ve just been career oriented for most of my life and never really settled down in any place for very long. I’ve never been married, never had any serious relationships, never dating with the intent on finding ‘the one.’ I figured if I wanted that, it would come in time and I would let it happen naturally and there was no need to rush it. Does that make sense?”

“It does,” He said. “That’s how I used to be for a good three centuries. It wasn’t until I did marry and tried to make a family and failed, again and again, that I sort of became… obsessed.”

“How many times have you been married?”

“Thirty times, I believe.”

“Were they all human?”

“Most of them were,” He said. “There were a couple of tieflings, a half-orc woman, a faun, a selkie, and a dryad. I stayed with them all until the end of their lives, except the last one who left me. I’m nothing if not devoted.” He cocked his head. “Well, I divorced the dryad. She wasn’t happy that I couldn’t conceive children and berated me for it.”

“Oh, jeez, what a bitch,” You said, frowning.

He snorted. “I may have used similar language at the time.”

“I can’t imagine you calling someone a bitch,” You said, side-eyeing him.

“I was a different man in my youth,” He said, smiling. “I’ve got some papers to file. I’ll see you later.”

You waved him off, watching him walk briskly and frowned. He’d lost so much, been disappointed so often, given up on the things he wanted for himself to help others. He was using what he had to give others what he wanted, and as noble a pursuit as that was, it was also rather sad. And what if he got the news he was dreading the most. He’d be devastated.

Was there anything you could do to make him feel better? Was there something you could give him that would make him feel less… incomplete? The only time he seemed genuinely happy was when he was with the children. What else could give him the same joy?

The boy. It came to you suddenly. What about the boy he thought was his son? The one he raised until his mother left with him? Could you find him? Was he alive?

At lunchtime, you sat down with Amai in the cafeteria.

“Can I ask a favor of you?” You asked.

“Sure, what is it?” She responded, sipping her coffee. She always craved coffee when she was incubating and downed gallons of it after laying.

“The boy Halvorg raised, what was his name?”

“Robert, I think?” She said. “I can ask Yenuno, he knows.”

“What year was he born?”

“Uhhh… 1901 or around there.”

“What was his mother’s name?”

“Martha--why are you asking about this?”

You sighed. “I want to find Halvorg’s son. He may be dead now, but I have to try. Halvorg is so unhappy, he’s just gotten really good at hiding it. I want to give him some kind of closure.”

Amai winced in sympathy. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Spending all these years around him, I can see how much he’s hurting, even if he tries to mask it.” She sighed. “I have some contacts at the census archives and I can make some inquiries. I’ll check the lineages websites and find as many records as I can.” Amai snorted. “Maybe he’ll be less uptight.”

“Amai!” You retorted.

“Sorry, sorry!” Amai held her hands up. “I’m sorry, it’s a reflex by now, sorry. This is serious. I’ll look into it.”

“Thank you,” You said with a warning tone. “This is serious.”

“I know,” Amai said, her face more solemn. “I’ll do what I can.”

“Thank you,” You repeated. “I’m sorry to put more work on you, though.”

She tsked at you. “Please, I always take maternity leave during Yenuno’s time incubating. I generally have nothing to do but keep the big guy company while he’s stuck in one place. It’ll give me something to do.”

Halvorg got the call a few days later and informed you of the appointment time. You offered to drive him, and he gratefully accepted.

“Are you alright?” You asked him.

He took a deep breath and blew it out through pursed lips. “I don’t know. This is either a new beginning or the end of the road. I don’t know how to feel.”

“I’ll be with you, no matter what,” You told him.

He grimaced in a failed attempt to smile. “Thank you.”

The two of you sat in the waiting room for a moment before being called back into an exam room. He sat there in his chair and fidgeted nervously. You put your hand on his and held it. He looked up at you with fear in his eyes and didn’t shake you off.

The doctor knocked on the door and let himself in. Halvorg straightened up, releasing your hand.

“Alright, Dr. Halvorg,” He said, sitting at the table. “We Have your results back. Blood and urine came back normal, and there’s nothing abnormal on your x-rays.” He flipped on the computer screen on the desk in front of him and pulled up Halvorg’s file. “However, there was abnormalities in your sperm sample and the MRI.”

“What type of abnormalities?”

“Well, first of all, your semen sample didn’t have any sperm in it.”

Halvorg looked confused. “What?”

“It’s a condition known as Azoospermia. It’s basically when there’s a blockage somewhere that’s trapping the sperm, which is why there weren’t any little swimmers in your sample.” The doctor clicked on one of the tabs and opened an MRI of Halvorg’s pelvic area and pointed out the anomalies. “The MRI confirms it. There doesn’t appear to be a connection between your epididymus and your vas diferens, and without that connection, the sperm is completely blocked. There’s also a blockage from your testes to the urethra. You appear to have been born with all of these blockages.”

“How does that happen?”

“As to that,” The doctor said, looking at the paperwork he came in with. “Your genetics test came back, and it appears that you have a mutation of Cystic Fibrosis. Thankfully, with this mutation, there are no other typical symptoms of Cystic Fibrosis besides the infertility.”

“Can it be corrected?” Halvorg asked anxiously.

“Yes, microsurgery can correct it. Before we do that, we’ll need to take a sample directly from the testicle with a needle to see if you’re producing sperm at all and look at the count. If we determine that the general sperm production is not the problem, then we’ll proceed with surgery.”

Halvorg sat in a stunned silence, gripping his knees tightly.

“So… it’s possible that I could have children?” He asked.

“There is a possibility,” The doctor said. “We would have to wait until after the surgery and take another sample. I don’t want to get your hopes up too soon, the sperm count could be low, they could be abnormal. There are a bunch of things that could go wrong.”

“But there’s a chance?” Halvorg asked, his eyes as wide and vulnerable as a puppy.

“There’s a chance,” The doctor replied.

As the two of you left the clinic and headed to your car, before you could get to your door, Halvorg gently took your arm, swung you around, took your face in his hands, and kissed you full on the mouth. You made a sound of surprise, but you didn’t push him away.

He lingered for a moment or two before breaking away and saying, “I’m sorry, I know that was extremely unprofessional and probably unwanted, but I don’t know how to thank you. I owe you so much, I can’t begin to express how grateful I am.” He gulped and looked at you earnestly, breathing out a shaky breath. “Do you remember when you asked me to dinner?”

“Yeah?” You asked, confused but intrigued by the sudden softening of his prickly exterior.

“Does the offer still stand?”

You smiled at him slowly and took his hands. They were trembling. This was the first time in a century he’d asked a woman out, after all.

“Yeah,” You replied, stepping closer so that your body lightly brushed his. “Yeah, it does.”

He smiled wide and kissed you again.

Maël went in the next day to have a sample taken, and was thrilled to learn that he did have a decent amount of sperm production. He scheduled the surgery immediately. The recovery time would be at least six weeks, and it was advised that he didn’t try to have sexual relations for another two weeks after that. Plenty of time to feel out your new blooming relationship and get more comfortable with each other.

Thankfully, you had a week to actually go on a few dates before he went under the knife. He took you to Dunmountain on a weekend trip to the museum and the opera. It was the first time you’d done anything like this recreationally in a really long time, and you loved every second of it.

Even though you were sharing a hotel room and a bed, he didn’t attempt to be intimate with you, and you didn’t push him. It had been a century since he last took a woman to bed, and you imagined he felt a little nervous about it.

You didn’t go out of your way to tell people that you were together, but it wasn’t a big secret either. Yenuno and Amai were overjoyed for the two of you. Maël had told Yenuno and Amai about the surgery, but he claimed it was a hernia. You weren’t sure if he would tell them the whole truth. Not unless he got the results he wanted.

By the time he healed completely, it would be about time for the eggs to hatch. Yenuno was already restless and it had only been a month.

You drove Maël to the surgical clinic on the day of his surgery, sat with him in pre-op while he waited nervously and just talked him through his anxiety, holding his hand when they put the IV in. They gave him some medicine to help calm his nerves, and he began to grow sleepy. You stroked his head and watched his eyes fluttered closed. They wheeled him into surgery while he was still snoozing.

The procedure didn’t take very long, only about an hour, and you waited to be called back. A nurse came to retrieve you and took you to his room.

He lay there in bed, drifting in and out.

“Hey, sweetie,” You said, rubbing his arm. “How are we feeling?”

“Sore and thirsty,” He croaked.

You picked up the cup with water in it the nurse had provided and helped him take a sip.

“I’m not surprised you’re sore,” You remarked, setting the cup back down. “A whole bunch of people fondled your balls for an hour.”

He wheezed a laugh. You loved it when he laughed. It changed his whole face. “Did they say when they’d release me?”

“As soon as you can pee on your own, they’ll let you out of here. They said there would be swelling so it might be a while before you’re able to do it, though. I’ll wait.”

He held his hand out for yours and you took it.

“I feel like all I do these days is thank you,” He said. “I wish I could do as much for you as you’ve done for me.”

“You don’t have to do anything for me,” You said. “I’m a strong, independent woman who don’t need no man. But I’ll keep you around. You’re cute.”

He breathed another laugh through his nose. “I’m glad. I’ve become rather fond of you.”

You kissed his knuckles. “Likewise.”

He managed to relieve himself right after dinnertime, and was declared clear to go home. You drove him back to the facility and helped him to bed. He was asleep before you left his apartment.

Heading back into your own apartment for the night and sat heavily on your couch. God, you needed to do laundry. It had been a chaotic few weeks.

You started picking up clothes that were strewn haphazardly over furniture, and while picking up a pair of jeans, a small book fell out.

Oh. Right. Maël’s research notes. You’d meant to give it back. Well, Maël was going to be recovering in bed for a few days and likely sleeping most of that time. You could give it back when he was back on his feet. You placed it in the drawer of your nightstand, stared at it for a minute, and went on to start laundry.

And promptly forgot about it for a second time.

Maël slowly healed, though he walked a little stiffly for a few weeks and was careful when sitting. He was a little more irritable than normal, but you imagined he was trying to adjust and was also still worried about whether or not the surgery had worked. He wouldn’t know for another several weeks.

The children kept bringing him flowers they found in the forest to cheer him up, which always seemed to lift his spirits. You spent the evenings with him, talking and cuddling and kissing. You felt like a teenager again, and you hadn’t been a teenager in over one hundred and fifty years.

You were starting to regret the timing of the surgery, though. Sometimes the making out would get pretty hot and heavy, and you had to force yourselves to stop for fear of injuring him.

One night after you’d been dating for just under two months, he was kissing your neck and began to unbutton your shirt. You stopped him.

“You haven’t been cleared for intercourse, have you?” You asked him.

“No, not yet,” He said, breathing heavily and biting his lip. His white-blonde hair was out of it’s normal clean braid and falling around his face. “But I can do something for you.” His hand drifted down your abdomen and between your thighs.

“Oh,” You said, smiling a little. “Are you sure?”

He slipped his hand into your panties and stroked you, and your breath caught in your throat.

“I haven’t done it in a while,” He said, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach. “But I think I still know how to do this.”

He got up from the couch and pulled you by your legs gently so that you were laying flat, pushing up your skirt and pulling off your panties. He knelt back down on the couch, yanking off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. He slowly spread your legs and pushed your knees upward. He started kissing and sucking the inside of your thigh while circling your bud with his thumb. You moaned and lay back into the cushions, giving over to the sensations.

As he kissed his way toward the apex, he slipped his middle finger inside you and thrust it gently in and out. You whimpered and gripped the couch, your hips grinding against his hand.

“Maël, please,” You breathed.

He growled low in his throat, sending a shockwave through your spine.

“Since you said please,” He whispered teasingly, and pressed his tongue to your clit. Your toes curled at the contact and you grabbed a handful of his hair.

“Oh god,” You whispered. “Maël.”

He placed his whole mouth over you, licking and sucking, adding another finger inside you. He certainly did remember how to do this.

“Fuck!” You said through gritted teeth, followed up by a shuddering moan, raising your head to watch him. He looked up at you through his long lashes and doubled his efforts, sucking your labia into his mouth and pulling, adding a third finger. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

Still sucking, he grinned up at you and quirked an eyebrow. He withdrew his fingers and used his hands to push your knees into your chest to open you up wider. You grabbed his head with both hands and rocked your clit against his tongue.

You came as though hit by a bus, loud and violent. Your butt lifted off of the couch as you pulsed in ecstasy, screaming. You hoped the walls of his apartment were soundproof. You couldn’t believe that he’d made you come in under a minute.

“How? How did you do that?” You wheezed.

He chuckled darkly. “I was married thirty times, darling. If I don’t know what I’m doing by now, I shouldn’t be dating at all.”

You just sort of laid there like a starfish while you got your breath back and cooled down. Maël went to fetch you some water and a snack. Eventually, you found your underwear and put it back on. Once your heart rate had slowed, he pulled you into his lap and kissed you slowly until you fell asleep. The next morning, you woke up next to him in his bed. You were tucked up under his arm and he was sleeping peacefully, a small smile on his face.

Suddenly, both of your cellphones buzzed at once. Maël snorted awake and untangled himself from you, picking up his phone, looking at it, and jumping out of bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“The eggs are hatching!” He exclaimed hastily, pulling clothes out of drawers and putting them on hurriedly. You threw your clothes on and joined Maël’s mad dash for the door.

When you got to the receiving area, the kids were milling around inside, instructed to stay away from the cottage until the babies were born, but they were craning their necks to see what was happening.

Amai was in the shelter with Yenuno and several members of the hatching team, looking into the circle of his tail. She looked up and saw the two of you running up and shouted: “Hurry! They’re almost out!”

You and Maël darted up the ramp and looked down into the coil. All three of the eggs were cracked open and little arms and tails were poking out.

“Vitals?” Maël asked, donning a surgeon’s paper outfit and instructing you to do the same.

“Vitals are elevated but within acceptable range,” One of the nurses said.

“Good,” Maël said. “Alright, we just have to stand back. They’ll do most of the work.

Amai and Yenuno were watching the eggs hatch with awe on their faces. You supposed watching this never got old for them. You wondered if they would miss this now that they decided to stop laying.

Slowly, the little wiggling figures freed themselves from their shells and were crawling around on their hands, looking up at their parents. Maël used that distraction to examine them.

“No way…” He said in a hushed tone. “I don’t believe it.”

“What?” Amai asked a little shrilly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Maël said, grinning up at her. “They’re all girls.”

“What?!” Yenuno and Amai said in unison, looking at their new little ones.

From what Maël had told you, the ratio of male to female births of Blue Gill Nagas was disproportionately skewed in favor of males. One in twenty eggs contained a female. Having an entire clutch of females was extremely rare.

Yenuno and Amai cried with joy and excitement. They’d been hoping to have at least one more little girl. To get three in one go was overwhelming.

Maël supervised the clean up process, and when they were ready, Yenuno and Amai brought the three baby girls out and introduced them to their siblings. You watched on the ramp with Maël, smiling, and took his hand. He squeezed yours in return. Looking up at his face, you could see he was crying, too.

This is what Maël wanted. He wanted to be the first to say hello to his own child, to be the first to hold them, to be the first to tell them he loved them. He wanted to kiss their brow and dance with them when they were crying and sing them to sleep at night. To get on the floor and play with them and put bandaids on their knees when they scraped them. He was desperate to experience that again, like he had with his son.

After the hatching, Maël went to file the new birth paperwork and Amai and Yenuno and their children were spending the next few days together. That left you with nothing to do.

Back in your apartment, you lay in your bed, thinking about that morning over and over. The babies busting out of their shells, the look of joy on their parents’ faces, the mix of happiness and pain on Maël’s.

You sat up to get your lip balm from your night table, and again found the book. You really ought to give it back. You’d been absent-minded about this for too long.

You opened it, flipping through pages until you landed on the date you first arrived at the facility. Intrigued, you read it.

“Amai’s friend finally made it today. It was exciting to meet her; I’ve been following her career for so long. She’s done so much for the non-human community. Amai didn’t tell me how breathtakingly beautiful she was. My heart stopped when I saw her out of the window. I haven’t felt attraction like this in centuries.”

Oh. Oh god. This was his personal diary. You knew you should stop reading it, but couldn’t. You had no idea he’d felt this way.

“I think I’m flirting with her, but I’m not trying to. I can’t help it. She’s funny and intelligent and everything I love in a woman. She’s gorgeous. I don’t know what to do. I’m trying so hard to stay professional, but I can seem to stop smiling around her.”

The next entry was the day you asked him to dinner.

“She asked me out on a date tonight. It was so hard to say no, but there’s no point, is there? She won’t want me if she knows I can’t have children. She’ll either leave me or mock me. There’s no point. I’ll avoid her. That’s all I can do. It’s best if I don’t get closer to her. Even friendship is dangerous. I’m already half in love with her, and I don’t think I could take it if we started a relationship and she ended up pitying me or disgusted. I can’t do it again.”

There were no more mentions of you in the book after that. You didn’t realize you were crying until the tears hit the page.

It was then that you made a decision.

You took out your phone and dialed your gynecologist’s office. “Hi, Grace, I’d like to schedule a consultation with the doctor about canceling my next birth control injection.”

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

#Exophilia #Monster Boyfriend #Fae

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minchanslut · 4 years

Text

At Your Service

Pairing: F!Reader x Escort!MinChan Word count: 2.4K

You sighed deeply, feeling the warm water cascade down your shoulders, taking some of the tension you had built up on your muscles along with it, but that alone wasn’t enough. The immense stress that your job put on you along with so many nights of sleeping alone had started to get to you. You wouldn’t say that you were one to feel incomplete while not in the company of a significant other, but as your needs grew, you found it harder to satiate them yourself, often leaving yourself feeling unsatisfied. You craved the touch of someone else.

Of course, you attempted to follow the trend of meeting people on dating apps and engaging in one night stands, but you were quick to realise that it simply wasn’t for you after having two separate experiences which left you deeply disappointed, and wondering whether men were even able to make women orgasm anymore. After telling your friend of your encounters and how you’ve given up hope on dating apps she suggested you hire an escort, if what you were looking for was just great sex. You dismissed her idea, saying that such a service would only be a waste of money and that you were bound to find someone who would be able to give you what you need, for free at that. But you had no such luck, not even after four months. It was almost as frustrating for your friend as it was for you, seeing as she had to put up with your constant whining and complaining. Even after months had passed she was still adamant about how you should at least try her suggestion, claiming that she heard of an extremely luxurious escort lounge through a coworker. It took some time, but eventually you gave in and decided to test the waters, though still quite skeptical, you had little hopes for what was to come. You had made an “appointment”, as they called it, about a week before, telling yourself you needed time to prepare, both physically and mentally. The website, which insured complete secrecy, offered a wide variety of escorts to choose from, which only made it harder for you to take your pick. After spending hours scrolling on your phone, reading the description provided of each escort and thoroughly analyzing their photos, you decided to go for a guy named Chris. His photo provided a glimpse of his toned muscles and charming smile, but not much else. You chose not to dwindle on your decision for too long, fearing that you would change your mind and end up back at square one.

A week later you found yourself walking through the doors of a lavish club which seemed more like a 5-star hotel. There were both men and women dressed in expensive attire throughout the room. You timidly searched for the front desk, hoping whoever was there wouldn’t poke fun at your anxious state. Thankfully you were greeted with an understanding smile by a woman named Mia, who gave you a brief explanation of how everything worked. She would tell you which room your escort would be waiting in, and would announce to them that you were on your way and all you had to do was make it there in one piece. Seemed simple enough. Before you left she assured you that you had nothing to be worried about and that you were in good hands.

“It’s not too late to turn back.” you told yourself, but if you did so you would lose both the experience and your deposit. Before you knew it you were already standing in front of Chris’ room, realizing then there really was no turning back. Chris was already standing at the door frame by the time you arrived. He greeted you with a smile, and allowed you to come inside, immediately offering you something to drink. You admitted to being too nervous to drink anything and he nodded in understanding.

“Is there anything I can do to help ease your nerves? You know, before we start?”

You could only shrug, scratching your head awkwardly.

“Okay how about, I eat your pussy? Would that calm you down a bit?”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his coarseness, but you went along with it nonetheless. That is why you were here after all.

Chris approached you slowly, sitting down on the bed beside you, helping you out of both your bottoms before ridding himself of his shirt. You couldn’t help but stare at his toned arms and defined abs, and you would’ve stared at them for much longer if his touch hadn’t pulled you away from your thoughts. He instructed you to straddle him as he laid down. He chuckled when you gave him a confused look.

“This way you can set your own pace, is that alright?”

You decided to go along with it,as you figured that he would know what he’s doing. He guided you towards his face, your aching pussy spread out in front of him.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

You took a deep breath and lowered yourself, providing Chris with direct access to your heat. He placed kitten licks on your clit, allowing you to get accustomed to the situation before wrapping his lips around the small bud and sucking harshly. You got the impression that Chris was enjoying himself just as much as you were, as he was moaning against your clit, the vibrations making your legs shake in pleasure. Chris’ hands found themselves holding onto your waist, helping you maintain balance as you grinded against his tongue, practically fucking his face. Your moans grew louder as your orgasm approached, your toes curled up as you pulled away, your pussy convulsing vigorously. You collapsed beside him as he sat up, wiping your juices from his chin with the back of his hand.

“Do you need a minute or do you wanna go again?”

You asked yourself if he was insane, how could you go again after cumming that intensely. And yet no more than 5 minutes after your first orgasm you found yourself on all fours in front of Chris, who was thrusting into you at an incredible speed. He had his chest pressed against your back and you could feel his chiseled abs on your skin. He had one hand supporting his weight and the other rubbing your clit. Every so often he would plant chaste kisses on your back and shoulders, followed by praise that made you melt.

“You feel so good, I won’t last much longer, shit.”

And he really didn’t, though neither did you. But mere moments later you were right back where you started, ready for another round.

From then on you found yourself seeing Chris once a month, twice if you were lucky.

You felt your muscles contort, an evident frown forming on your face as you refreshed the page once more only to receive the same notification. Due to your busy schedule the days you could make an appointment to see Chris were very limited, but luck had always been on your side and you were able to see him on the days you were free without any difficulties, until now that is. Your frustration grew as you continuously refreshed the website but were still met with the words “No slots available”

You could easily be considered a regular there, but you hadn’t been with anyone other than Chris. You were unsure whether to just give up and visit the following month, maybe even making an appointment several weeks in advance this time, or to simply go for someone else. You really didn’t feel like going through the trouble of searching for someone else, seeing as it was already difficult for you to pick the first time. You were close to giving up on your search until you discovered a rather convenient quiz the website provided, which claimed to help you find the perfect sexual partner for you. After hesitantly clicking on the link you were redirected to a page with various questions regarding your kinks, desires and fantasies. It was a rather quick quiz that certainly didn’t beat around the bush. After calculating your results you were met with the name Minho in bold letters, along with a short description of him right beside his photo. You opted to trust their recommendation and booked a session with Minho for later that week.

You walked into the building with less confidence than in the recent months, yet still not as apprehensive as the first time. You were nervous about what this new experience might be like, but you were excited nonetheless, wondering what Minho would do differently than Chris. Heading over to the front desk you greeted the receptionist whom you’ve grown fairly friendly with over the recent months. You made casual small talk as she typed away on her computer before stopping abruptly and looking up at you with a puzzled look on her face.

“Do you not have a session with Chris tonight?”

Your cheeks flushed as you avoided her gaze, announcing that you were, in fact, there to see Minho. She cocked her eyebrow at you, smirking slightly and continued without another word. You shrugged it off, bidding her a farewell as you began heading towards the room you had been assigned, rolling your eyes when she shouted “Have fun!” from behind you.

You knocked twice and Minho opened the door almost immediately, clearly expecting you.

He was dressed simply, button up and black dress pants. His hair was pushed back, slightly damp from what you assumed was gel. He invited you inside and was quick to comment about how he had seen you before but never expected you to go for anyone other than Chris.

“It’s quite an honor, actually, to have some fun with Chris’ plaything. Or is it the other way around, hm?”

There was only silence, which caused Minho to sigh. He made his way behind you, helping you slip off your coat as he whispered in your ear.

“No need to be so tense, I’m here to help you unwind after all.”

He ran his hands up and down your arms as he nipped and sucked on the exposed area of your neck. His hands then traveled to your sides, fingers gently tugging at the hem of your shirt before pulling it over your head. His fingers softly traced the skin of your abdomen while he walked forward, leading you towards the bed. He planted wet kisses down your spine, getting lower with each kiss and pulling down your pants in the process. Once you were left in nothing but your undergarments he gently pushed you down onto the bed. You were at a 90 degree angle, your upper body laying on the bed as your knees pressed onto the floor supporting your lower half. Minho ran his hand up and down your back, humming at your reaction.

“Eager, aren’t we? Maybe I should just give you what you want.”

He wasted no time waiting for an answer as he placed a small kiss on your pussy through your panties. He moved onto your inner thighs, leaving chaste kisses on the supple skin. He could feel your legs beginning to shake with anticipation and he was quick to return his attention to your aching pussy, licking a long stripe up your clothed folds. Minho pushed your panties aside as he pressed his finger against your entrance.

“Shit, you’re already getting wet, but you can do better than that, right?”

He slid his finger in deeper, curling it upwards as his lips found their way around your clit, sucking on the bundle of nerves. He pumped his finger in and out of you at a slow pace, taking care to give enough attention to your clit. He withdrew his finger, only to collect your juices with his index and middle finger before sliding them back in, groaning in satisfaction.

“You’re taking my fingers so well, can’t believe you’re so tight after being such a whore for Chris”

You felt yourself clench at his words, burying your face in the sheets to muffle your whine.

Your relationship with Chris was purely one of give and take. He provided you with a service which you paid for. You had no feelings for him and were sure he had none for you. Yet, choosing Minho over him this one time felt as if you were being unfaithful, but it also made your pussy ache with need for Minho’s touch. You wanted to feel him inside you, and you desperately wanted him to be the one to make you cum over and over again. He picked up his pace and had replaced his mouth with his thumb, which was now rubbing circles on your clit.

Minho caught on to your attempt at trying to keep yourself quiet and clicked his tongue. With his free hand he grabbed hold of your hair, raising your head slightly so that your face was no longer against the mattress. His new position meant that it was now harder for him to reach your clit, but his index and middle finger never once stopped pumping in and out of you.

“Now, now, if you don’t make any sound how am I supposed to know whether or not I’m doing a good job. Just for that I might not allow you to cum.”

“No, please, I’m so close.”

Your words caused him to smirk, seemingly strengthening his ego.

“Well, if that’s the case, I’d much rather have you cum on my cock, what do you say?” he said, removing his fingers from your heat. He helped you up, allowing you to sit on the bed properly. You eyed him closely as he removed his belt, his pants following soon after. He was left in only his white button up, of which half the buttons were now undone, and his boxers, the shape of his hard cock clearly visible. Minho unclasped your bra and helped you out of your panties, before slipping out of his boxers himself. He took the time to roll a condom onto his length, spreading your wetness onto the head of his dick. He pulled away for a moment, rubbing his thumb over your clit, followed but his palm slapping your pussy a few times. You felt your legs twitch as you ached to be filled up once more. He lined himself up at your entrance, but to your dismay stopping halfway to look over at the door which had previously been locked, swing open.

You glanced over Minho’s shoulder to see Chris, who still hadn’t finished his sentence, come through the door calling your name, clearly not knowing you would be preoccupied with Minho.

“Mia told me that you’d be in this room, my session got canceled so I figured we could have some fun. Oh, am I interrupting?”

#bang chan smut #lee know smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #chris bang smut #lee minho smut #stray kids lee minho smut #bang chan scenarios #skz chan smut #skz chris smut #stray kids chan smut #stray kids chris smut #skz lee minho smut #skz lee know smut #stray kids lee know smut #lee minho scenarios #lee know scenarios #skz scenarios

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topweeklyupdate · 3 years

Text

TØP Weekly Update #142: A Formidable Album (5/21/21)

So... how 'bout that album release week?

There's so much to cover; the release of nine new songs, the hype that's building for the World's Best Band to return to the stage, and (if we're able to come up for air) the massive speculation of what the future brings for our band.

I'm gonna get right into it, laying out my thoughts regarding this bold new album and covering all the most notable news from the week. I'll be sharing my (mostly) positive opinions about Scaled and Icy under the Read More line; I hope they're the start of a fun conversation with all of y'all who have stuck around through this last year.

Scaled and Icy Review

First, my general thoughts on the album: It's good! Really good. Do I think it's a no-skip like Vessel or a cohesive piece of art like Trench? Absolutely not! But it's also not the potential misfire that I worried that we might be getting when I first heard "Saturday" (more on that later); I think all of the songs are at least good, and some of them are downright great tracks that hold up with anything else that our band has ever released. It is also indisputably very different, but I think that generally works pretty well. Many of the songs evoke '60s rock or Britpop sounds and structures that you can tell Tyler is still trying to navigate, but I think he does a very solid job at adapting them to suit his strengths- namely his lyricism and knack for melody- rather than change to suit them. Unfortunately, this does result in a bit of square-peg-in-round-hole syndrome at times; most of the rap verses on the album feel like they're here just to fulfill an obligation to fans who would be mad if they weren't here, and most of the songs that use them are the weakest ones in the project.

"Good Day" plays a major role in getting the rest of the album to work as well as it does. Its gradual ramp-up, introducing the sound that will be used throughout the rest of the album. Its playfulness belies its message about how one can project a somewhat false optimism for oneself in the midst of tragedy: the type of dark stuff in a bright package that Tyler is so so good at. It's perhaps not an instant classic, but I am excited to see how it comes across when it's eventually used as a show-opener. 9/10

I've of course already discussed "Shy Away"; an anthemic, inimitably catchy track that I just wish had a bit more going on under the hood. Still going to be so good to hear thousands of voices scream "An 'I LOVE YOU' that isn't words!" someday. 9.5/10

"Choker" definitely took a little bit to grow on me. I think part of that was a bit of disappointment from over-inflated expectations and the environment I was in when I first heard it. With further listens, I fall more and more in love with the melody of the song... well, most of it. Like the rest of this album, the biggest weakness in the song is when Tyler tries to tick the box of having a rap verse; it just feels really out of place, unfinished, and almost amateurish, and it doesn't end the song on the note that it really should. Without it, it'd be one of my favorites on the album; with it, "Choker" is a solid 8.5/10.

Speaking of unfinished-sounding songs really hurt by their rap verse: "The Outside". There's a definite something to the vibe of the song, but that seemingly nonsensical verse is one of the two weakest parts of the entire project for me. The way the song meanders only adds to the feeling that there wasn't as much energy and attention paid to it compared to other parts of the project. It's pretty easily my least favorite track on Scaled and Icy, and the only one I might regularly skip. I've also seen plenty of people saying it's the best song on the album, so please tell me why I'm wrong! 6.5/10

"Saturday", as mentioned above, had me really nervous about this album. Like "Choker", it's grown on me a bit since I first heard it, in part because it fits better with the context of the rest of the album. However, this one really does feel undercooked lyrically and overreliant on the novelty of using a disco-inspired sound that seems to chase trends more than almost any other TØP track. The inclusion of that very sweet audio clip from Jenna boosts the song in some ways, but also adds to the disappointment in others; there are many other songs on this project that would be more worth surrendering time watching Friends. Thankfully, those come next. 7/10

"Never Take It" is fascinating. I never thought I'd hear a Rolling Stones-style song from Tyler Joseph featuring a gd guitar solo of all things, and it actually sounds pretty great. However, I also predict that this song will see some of the greatest critical scrutiny out of all the songs on the album. The lyrics seem to be Tyler's criticism of the media for playing up division in our society, but he's extremely vague when discussing which entities are spreading said division and ultimately recommends that people "educate yourself, but never too much". I'll be honest: maybe it's the fact that it sounds like something my dad would listen to, but it feels like this would get tons of play on Fox News. Since it makes specific reference to the events of last summer, it's hard not to feel like song is at least partially inspired by Tyler's brush with cancellation last year. Maybe I'm reading too deeply into it, but those reservations come from the song's lack of specificity, which is an issue of songwriting more than politics. They hold me back from truly loving a song that still manages to be one of the most exciting the band has ever put out. 8.5/10

"Mulberry Street" seems like the perfect realization of the entire album's intended tone. It is so pleasant, so lush while also simply produced, full of great lyrics, metaphors, and imagery. It really brings the whole project together, even if it's missing That One Line to really move this up to the top tier of the canon. 9.5/10

"Formidable" is the best song on the album and one of two songs I would truly rank in the top tier of the band's canon. Extremely pleasant and brimming with well-crafted lines to make your heart swoon. Jenna (and Rosie) is (are) a lucky gal(s). Or is it about Josh? Who's to say? 10/10

"Bounce Man" is just plain wild. I think Tyler's smuggling someone to Mexico to escape the feds? The playfulness of it all really covers up any frustration I might have with the clarity; it makes it clear that there's not really stakes here, just vibes. 8.5/10

"No Chances" sees the album take a turn that I'm sure the Reddit Clique is going to have an absolute field day with; it and "Redecorate" both sound quite different from the rest of the album and evoke enough elements of Trench to make me think that's it's actually possible that all this 'SAI is Propaganda' stuff might actually have something to it... until I actually pick apart the lyrics, then I'm even more confused. The song has some of the best rapping on the album, though that's not saying much (the feng shui line is a groaner right out the gate) and the gentle pre-chorus is really pleasant. I still haven't made up my mind on whether the chorus is effective or just plain goofy. This one might get worse or better on repeat listens, impossible to say for now. 7.5/10

"Redecorate" rounds out the album by opening with a Clancy quote (Tyler, you bastard), firmly setting this as a coda to Trench more than the album we just listened to. The rest of the song is really storytelling, with Tyler describing a bunch of people who are struggling deeply. The idea of "redecorating" here stands for how they are faced with the option to clean and resort their own spaces and lives or leave that to their loved ones to do after they're gone. By the time it gets to the album's name drop, you begin to wonder how much of this is potential autobiographical of the last year. It's moving stuff, a callback to some of the great strengths of the band's discography. 10/10

If I average those scores all up, this project ranks below almost every album among the Pilots discography on my rating scale, very narrowly edging out Self-Titled. That's still a very solid 8.6. Scaled and Icy is a very good album on first listen. We'll see how I feel about it after having a little more time to sit with it, but I've rambled enough: let's move through the rest of the week's news.

Other News

Of course, there was a lot else going on this week! To accompany the release of "Saturday", Zane Lowe over at Apple Music dropped an interview with Tyler. As usual, Zane did a pretty solid job of getting to the heart of the craft and the creation process. However, Tyler also wound up skirting a lot of the questions to just talk more about how much he loves being a dad, which makes me happy; if the cost of getting a little less attention and mental energy devoted to the music is that little girl getting all of his attention, that's honestly preferable for me.

The album rollout is not even close to over. Later today, the concert will be streamed live. It's our first real performance that we've gotten from the band since 2019, but the previews that we've seen have completely exceeded any of my expectations, and really anything that we've seen from the band. It appears that they've transformed the entire arena (which I think is the ol' Schott at Ohio State) into a whole TØP world, with different sets laden with Easter eggs and a cast of backup dancers. If the website can hold up to the traffic (and I acknowledge that might be a big ask), this could really live up to Tyler's promise of this being the best livestreamed concert ever.

Oh, and this guy dyed his hair pink.

What a time to be a fan. Catch you all tomorrow.

Power to the local dreamer.

|-/

#twenty one pilots #scaled and icy #tyler joseph #josh dun #good day #shy away #choker #the outside #saturday #never take it #mulberry street #formidable #bounce man #no chances #redecorate #top weekly update

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demonwifey · 3 years

Text

Mommy’s Kissing Who?🎄🎅🏻

Hey guys! Hope you all had a safe and amazing holiday! So this idea literally came to me right after listening to “I Saw Mommy Kissing Beetlejuice” and knew I had to post it for you guys to see. While you’re reading this just keep in mind I didn’t make the reader’s daughter Skye even though she was the one signing it. I’m bad at names so you’ll see the daughter go by she and her for the entire thing. Think about if you had a daughter and what you would name her. Hope you guys enjoy!💚💜🖤

Beetlejuice x black+fem!reader

Warnings: cursing, hints of sexual themes

Word count: 3,688

“I can’t believe I’m gonna ask this but, Beej, just please try to be on your best behavior.” You practically begged, clasping your hands together near your chest for added effect.

The demon man let out a hearty laugh before snapping his suspenders against his chest. His costume was like a mix between his normal suit and an actual Santa costume: red and white striped, his regular boots, and a Santa hat to top it off. You thought his overgrown green beard would’ve been a giveaway to your child at least.

“Come on, babes. Give me a little credit! I’m gonna be the best damn Santa these twerps have ever seen.” He reassured you. His confidence should’ve made you feel at ease but it didn’t. No that it mattered, it was too late to turn back now. You both looked up as the Scout Leader announced his arrival from outside the small room you two were in, basically queuing him to come out.

“It’s Showtime, babes.” He said to you and gave a flirtatious wink before walking out to the young girls yelling in excitement.

You watched as they all scurried to huddle around him. You watched your daughter closely, thankfully she didn’t recognize Beej and the other girls didn’t notice anything off. Maybe he was right, you should’ve given him more credit. You straightened your dress and fixed your hair out before making your way over the other parents as they all watched with joy.

“HO HO HO! Merry Christmas, you little shits!” You heard him yell loudly across the room.

You stopped in your tracks and your eyes widened almost comically at the sentence you just heard. You prayed to any other worldly being out there that it was only your imagination. When you looked up at the other parents, you could see it wasn’t. Their faces matched yours and they quickly turned their eyes towards you. Yeah, this was going to be one long night.

****

You didn’t know how you could’ve ended up in a worse position. You were in charge of one thing for the Girl Scout’s Christmas party: get someone to play Santa Claus and have him hand out the girls merit badges. All the other parent’s handled things like food, decorations, etc. It’s not like it was a hard task for you to do. Hell, you found and booked a guy at the beginning of the month. Everything was fine on your end, until two days ago. Your Santa Claus called saying he was sick with the flu. You’d already had a few mishaps with Girl Scout events in the past, so this was your chance to show the other parents that you weren’t a total screw up. Yet here you were on your laptop, scrambling through different websites to try and find a new person to play Santa.

“Hey Mommy, which shoes should I wear for the party tomorrow?” You heard your daughter’s perky voice ask from behind you. As a reflex, you quickly slammed your laptop screen down and looked at her with wide eyes. She stood behind the couch with each hand holding one shoe from a different pair.

“Hmm, I think I like the black ones better. They’ll match your badge belt.” You faked a casual tone.

She looked at the shoe you chose, like she was thinking for a moment, before nodding in excited agreement and running back to her room. You strained a smile as you watched her go before letting out a frustrated sigh and once you heard her door close. You were doing this, not just for the other girls, but for her as well. Your daughter always got so excited when someone mentioned Santa. How shitty would you feel if you had to watch her face turn to disappointment when they were all told Santa wasn’t coming? The mental image alone made your heart sink to the floor. You leaned forward to drop your head into your hands and let out another sigh; this one being much louder.

“Hey, keep making noises like that and I’m gonna get turned on, babes.” You heard a familiar voice coming from the side of you.

You didn’t even need to move your head to know it was Beetlejuice. You loved the demon to death but right now, you were in no mood to joke around. You could tell he sensed that when you didn’t respond. You didn’t see, but he awkwardly scratched the back of his head before sitting next to you. He placed an equally awkward hand on your back and started rubbing circles on it.

“Uh, you’re not gonna start crying are you? I’ve always been bad with that sort of thing. I mean, I had to watch The Notebook with Adam and Barbara one time and I had no idea what to do. They just started sobbing and saying “If you’re a bird, I’m a bird” to each other and it was the stupidest thing I’d seen-” And you stopped him before he could finish.

“No, Beej, I’m not gonna start crying. But, God, do I want to.” You said while sitting up, his hand still rubbing circles on your back. “It’s like I had one job and it went straight to shit in one day. I’ve looked everywhere for someone to play Santa last minute but they’re all booked! And I don’t have any family members or friends that are free either. Ugh, as if they’d actually do it.”

The room fell silent for a moment. There was no point in even opening up your laptop again. Not to say you gave up...but you basically gave up.

“What about the kid’s sperm donor? Maybe the Christmas spirit has him feeling less like a piece of shit.” Beetlejuice spoke; half joking, half serious. You scoffed but then let out an actual laugh. He moved his hand to around your shoulder before and you laid his chest. Your fingers started absentmindedly playing with his tie.

“If you’re referring to her father, he hasn’t been around since she was one. I doubt anything would make him less of a piece of shit.” You responded. You hated the guy for running out on you and your daughter but you’d never have him around Beetlejuice. You already knew Beej would have murder in his eyes as soon as he’d walk through the door. You moved your neck upward to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, showing that you appreciated his attempt to make you feel better.

“Well, at least this'll be an excuse to ruin Santa for her. Just walk in and say “SANTA ISN’T COMING BECAUSE SANTA ISN’T REAL!”. Rip the band aid off. It’ll be great.” He joked, looking down at you with a sinister grin on his face. There was no doubt in your mind that he wasn’t joking.

You let out a defeated giggle before flipping his tie up to hit him in the face. You were about to give him another kiss before you heard your daughter’s voice again.

“Beetlejuice!” She screamed before running around the couch to jump between you two. You both laughed at her sudden presence before Beetlejuice placed a hand on her head.

“What’s up, anklebiter? Have too many sugar packets before bed?” He joked and her own laughter wasn’t far behind. She quickly climbed on top of his lap and pulled out two of her favorite scrunchies from her pocket.

“No, silly! I need your opinion. Which scrunchie would look better for my hair tomorrow?” She asked, much like asked you about the shoes before.

Beetlejuice was always so good around your daughter. Most guys you knew ran for the hills when they found out you had a kid, but somehow, this rude and crude demon didn’t. Maybe it was all the time he’d spent with Lydia but he fell into the ‘cool dad/uncle’ role very quickly. Not that you were begging to have that figure in her life, it was still nice to watch them interact so naturally. You laughed as Beetlejuice plucked the different color scrunchies out of her hand and examined them closely.

“Nope, neither one will do.” He twisted his face at them before tossing them both to the side. Your daughter only blinked in confusion as she watched Beetlejuice reach into one of his jacket pockets.

“This one is way more suitable!” Suddenly he pulled out a black and white striped scrunchie with a glitter covered green and black tulle bow at the center. You’d been with Beetlejuice for a while so thankfully the both of you were used to his magic. Your daughter squealed in excitement and grabbed the scrunchie out of his hand.

“Beej, you can’t keep giving her presents before Christmas.” You laughed, still watching her as she gawked at her new accessory. The demon man ignored you, knowing he was only winning her heart more and more each day. “Alright, now what do we say?” You asked, giving her a knowing look.

“Thank you, so much BJ! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” The child didn’t hold back her enthusiasm as she jumped to give him a tight hug. Beetlejuice let out his usual scratchy laugh while giving her a few pats on the back.

You watched their interaction before squinting, an idea popping into your head.

“There’s no way...” You thought to yourself, but the image stuck in your head. Once you saw it, you couldn’t unsee it. From his perfect chubby body to his earthy laugh, you could tell he was the perfect fit for your idea.

“Alright, mini me, time for bed.” You shook yourself away from your thoughts and placed a hand on her head. She turned to face you with a large pout on her face. You stopped her before she could even protest. “Teeth and pajamas, now. I’ll be in to help with your hair in a minute.” You said softly but sternly.

The girl turned to Beej for help but he only shrugged, already knowing not to protest against you. She dropped her shoulders in defeat before saying thank you one last time and giving him her own cheek kiss. She soon shuffled away to get ready for bed, still giggling about the scrunchie.

“Ya’know, doll. I like it when you get tough. It really does something to me.” The demon man wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. You rolled your eyes before making your way over to him. You swung one leg over his lap and straddled him, using your hands to hold and squish his cheeks together. Beetlejuice didn’t waste time using one hand to hold your thigh and the other to grab your ass.

“Beej....” You started, staring into his golden eyes with a look that was nothing less than seductive. It didn’t take long for Beetlejuice to be wrapped around your finger. His hands started rubbing slowly in their respective spots as you moved down to pace soft kisses on his neck. “....how would you like to do me a BIG favor?” You asked.

****

Being the amazing boyfriend that he was, Beetlejuice said yes to your favor of him being the replacement Santa, at the cost of you being a wreck the entire event. Did you ever stop sweating? No. You were so used to Beej’s crass behavior at home that you didn’t think about how bad it would be to have him around other people. He started telling you all the ‘fun’ party tricks he had planned for the night. As soon as he mentioned giving the girls candy bags full of dead bugs, you realized the mistake you might’ve made.

There were more lows than highs throughout the night. Beetlejuice would make crude jokes every chance he got. Most of these jokes went over the girls heads, but their parents didn't find them very amusing. Even in your panicked state, you would have to divert Beetlejuice back to his original task. God, don’t even mention when you got close to him. It’s like he’d lose track of what was even happening to openly flirt and make lewd comments about you, in front of everyone. You lost count of how many times you had to say “haha Santa I don’t think Mrs. Claus would like that” before pinching him and making him get back on track. When it was time for food, he ate the scouts’ precious trope hamster. He played it up as a gimmick but you knew the gruesome reality of it all. The glares and stares from the adults in the room burned deep holes into your back. If you had the option to let the ground swallow you whole, you would’ve taken it.

When it finally came time to pass out the Scouts’ merit badges, that surprisingly went with minimal ease. Again, he was making odd jokes but it wasn’t the worst thing to happen all night. When he got down to your daughter, he was a lot more kind with his words than he was with the other girls. You thought he would’ve blown his cover to her as he went on a 10 minute long speech about how great and deserving she was. He was eventually stopped by the scout leader who cleared her throat to get her attention. You weren’t sure if it was the anxiety you’d been feeling all night, the sweet gesture from Beej, or the look of joy on your daughter’s face, but you were just about on the verge of tears. Despite the craziness of the night and the emotions that were flooding your brain, seeing the two of them laugh together made it all worth it.

****

After a long night out, you were finally back to your apartment. You shuffled through the door with her fast asleep on your shoulder. As soon as you got her in the car, she was out like a light. Now all you had to do was get her into pajamas and put her to bed. As you tucked her in, you could already hear Beej calling in his invisible state.

“Babydoll~ Told ya’ I was gonna be the best Santa ever. Come on, say my name. Say it so you can sit on Santa’s lap and tell him what you want for Christmas~” His scratchy voice echoed from behind you.

It took everything in you not to roll your eyes. Thankfully your daughter was fast asleep so she wouldn’t hear anymore of Beej’s lewd humor for the night. You stroked her hair for a second before getting up to walk out of her room, making sure to leave a slight crack in the door. You weren’t free from Beej’s voice as you put some things away and tidied up your living room. He was practically begging for you to say his name. Sure, you were being petty but he put you through hell tonight. A little payback never hurt anyone. Especially when you knew it helped fuel a little feral anger him. Angry Beej was your favorite Beej.

After about 30 minutes, you could feel the air in the room growing a little warm. You smiled to yourself, finally feeling as though you’d tortured him enough. You whispered his name slowly and sensual as you possibly could. As soon as you finished with the last syllable, you didn’t have time to swat away the thick green smoke surrounding your face before you felt his arms wrap around your waist. His nose was practically touching yours and you noticed the mischievous grin on his face. It didn’t surprise you that he still had on the Santa costume and soon you felt him pepper quick kisses on your neck.

“So tell me little girl, have you been naughty or nice this year?” He asked in between kisses. You let out a light giggle as the hairs on his beard tickles your neck.

“Aren’t you supposed to know that already, Santa?” You asked with added sarcasm on the name. He ignored you as he started nipping at your neck. “Anyway,” You stopped him by grabbing his cheeks with your hands. The way his face looked squished between your hands was too adorable for you to handle.

“Even though you were giving me anxiety all night, I still wanna say thank you for doing me this favor. It really means a lot.” With your words, you used one thumb to gently rub against his cheek. He didn’t even try to hide the goofy smile that filled his face. The only thing missing from his costume was the Santa hat so you could see the baby pink color that started to creep up strands of his hair.

“Aw, don’t sweat it, doll. You know I’d do anything for you and the kid.” He said so nonchalantly. It wasn’t until you gave him a fond smile that he realized what he said. It was rare for Beetlejuice to be anything less than crass. Whenever he showed moments of sincerity, it made your heart feel warm. His hair only got pinker as you looked at him with hearts in your eyes.

“I still want to show my appreciation. Seriously, what can I do to say thanks?” You asked, already knowing the type of answer he’d give. You watched as he acted like he was thinking for a moment. Just as his lip twisted back until an evil smirk, you felt one of his cold hands make his way down to your ass and give a gentle squeeze.

“Wellllll, how about a kiss under the mistletoe, babes?” He leaned in closer to your face.

You assumed he would’ve made one appear over you because you didn’t have one hanging anywhere in your apartment. A small puff of green smoke appeared in front of you but when you looked above, there wasn’t mistletoe to be found. Beej still had the arrogant smirk on his face as he watched you look around in confusion. After a second, it finally hit you. You made the mistake of looking down to see said mistletoe resting on the belt above his crotch. When you looked back at him, he wiggled his eyebrows. The annoyed sigh you let out could’ve been heard throughout the whole building. God, this guy was such a dumbass.

“Well? You gonna thank me or what?” The demon man asked, giving your ass a harder squeeze. You ignored his question and reached down. He seemed to get excited, but you disregarded his expectations that when you plucked the mistletoe off of his belt and held it above your heads.

“Don’t get too cocky, dweeb.” You saw that he was about to protest but you pushed your lips against his before he could.

Kissing Beetlejuice was nothing new but somehow this was a little different. You just remembered how sweet he was to your daughter and the interactions they’ve had. You thought about how you loved seeing them together. You thought about how much you loved the three of you being together like a family, like the family you’ve secretly wanted for so long. You put all of those thoughts into the kiss. All the love you had for Beetlejuice, you put into your kiss.

He was a little flustered at first, but eventually got in sync with you. He could tell you were putting your all into the kiss and was determined to do the same. You dropped the mistletoe to the floor and wrapped your arms around the man’s neck, pulling your bodies closer together. Beej let out a small grunt as you let your tongue slip it’s way into his mouth. You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into with that. Not long after did Beetlejuice shove his own freakishly large tongue until your mouth, and later down your throat. You tried your hardest not to let out a loud moan once you felt the wetness fill up your mouth, but you knew that’s exactly what Beej wanted to hear.

Even though you wanted to go longer, it would’ve been easier to finish what you started in the bedroom. Your daughter never caught you and Beej in the act, thank God, but there have been times where it was a close call. You hesitantly pulled away from the demon man, and it took a second for his tongue to leave from your throat. You gasped for air as your hands rested on his chest. You could see the ready-to-go feral look on his face as he rested his forehead on yours.

“Was that a good enough thank you?” You asked, letting out a slight laugh. Beetlejuice let out a heartier laugh as his golden eyes glowed bright like stars.

“I think I could use a little more convincing.” His scratchy voice echoed through your ears as he leaned down to wrap his arms around your thighs. You didn’t have a second to think as he lifted your body off of the ground and threw you over his shoulder with ease; one hand rested on your thigh and the other held a tight grip on your ass. You tried not to laugh too loudly as he carried your to your bedroom, ending the night in hours and hours of lovemaking.

With being so wrapped up in each other, you didn’t see your daughter peeking from around the hallway corner. Even though you thought she was fast asleep, Beetlejuice’s presence had woken her up while she tucked you in. She snuck out to watch in both joy and disgust as you two basically made out in the living room. She was glad to see you happy but it was still gross to see her parental figures kissing at all. With Beetlejuice still being in his Santa costume, she was able to put two and two together. She didn’t necessarily stop believing in Santa but she was glad Beetlejuice played the part for her.

The young girl scurried her way back into her room and gently closed the door so you two wouldn’t hear. Boy, was she gonna have a story to tell her fellow Girl Scouts.

Thank you guys so much for reading! See you guys in the New Year!💚💜🖤 🎉

#beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice fanfiction #Beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical

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send-me-your-hcs · 4 years

Note

okay. for some reason mob boss tony kidnaps peter and it turns out peter is a little. (he gets so scared and couldn't help but get into the littlespace as a defence mechanism???) and tony freaks out because he doesn't know how to take care of a little.

This is literally so funny to me. Like just the thought of Tony going from “You belong to me now, baby boy” to “oh God why is it making that noise, Happy make it stop” is so fucking hilarious?? But damn if I’m not intrigued.

…

......am I doing it?

…….fuck me I’m doing it. Damn you, anon.

Warnings: mentions of human trafficking and abuse, ageplay, underage (but Peter’s age is unspecified and can be envisioned however you’d like).

The compound crumbles in less than an hour.

For all his bravado, Justin Hammer goes down almost too easily. Tony feels tempted to whistle as he walks through the compound’s warehouse, stepping over the slain bodies of Hammer’s underpaid cronies.

His team is just finishing up the last of the clean-up. The occasional gunshot echoes off the walls as Tony takes stock of all the merchandise he just inherited, debating what to do with Hammer once they get home. It almost feels like a waste of effort and time to torture the man before killing him, even with all the trouble he stirred up with the police. Tony’s tempted to just put a bullet in his brain and be done with it.

But, well. He isn’t called The Merchant of Death for nothing, and he does have a certain image to maintain. Plus, with Hammer keeping him company tonight, he’ll at least be partially spared from the usual tedium that comes with being the biggest mafia don on the east coast.

It’s as he’s wondering just what exactly he should do to Hammer first that Happy finally arrives, looking a little disheveled, but no worse for wear. “Boss,” he says, stumbling over the array of corpses with a muted curse, “compound’s clear. We’re ready to pack this all up and move out.”

Tony wipes the toe of his shoe off on some unnamed man’s bullethole-patterned sleeve. “Good. And Hammer?”

“On his way back to base as we speak, sir. I’ll have him ready for you when you arrive.”

Tony nods in approval, then notices the pronounced, telltale crease in Happy’s brow. Always a good sign.

“Something else you wanna tell me, Hap?”

Happy grimaces, deepening his forehead wrinkle. “There was an unexpected...uh...hiccup, sir.”

Tony lifts an eyebrow at the other man, equal parts curious and incredulous. “A hiccup,” he repeats, slowly, watching Happy’s face grow increasingly sour. “What sort of hiccup?”

“The, um...the teenaged boy kind?”

---

There are only two bodies littering the floor outside Hammer’s office: his enforcer, and his bodyguard. Happy scowls at the sight and starts clumsily rolling them out of the way, glaring at Bucky while he does.

Bucky smirks at Happy, pointedly not moving to help clear away the bodies lying between them. “Kid hasn’t stopped crying since you took Hammer,” he says to him, standing in the doorway like a sentry.

“Probably in relief,” Tony says, straightening his tie as Happy finishes kicking over the second body. “Who is he? Do we know?”

“My guess is a trafficking vic,” Bucky says with a shrug. “He’s got bruises. Seems kinda...out of it.”

Tony hums. “Well, I suppose we’re about to find out.”

Bucky steps aside and Tony strolls into the room, sparing a disinterested glance at Hammer’s shameful choice of interior decorating. The throw pillows are haphazardly strewn across the floor from the sofa; one of the grommet drapes is missing from the window. It’s a mess, but that’s not entirely unexpected.

Happy follows close behind him as he makes his way to the corner of the room, where the soft sound of pitiful sobs is coming from underneath the large desk. Tony peeks his head beneath the desktop just enough to confirm the kid doesn’t have a loaded weapon before he crouches down.

The little thing is balled up tight, wrapped in the missing window drapery and clutching one of the stolen throw pillows like his life depends on it. He seems naked underneath it, which confirms Bucky’s human trafficking theory and gives Tony almost an instant headache. There are bruises spanning the boy’s wrists and ankles that look new and swollen, standing out brightly against the boy’s very pale skin.

Tony clears his throat. “As comfortable as that looks, perhaps I could convince you to stand up so we can chat face to face, hm?”

The kid flinches, whimpering into the pillow he has pressed over his face. Tony sighs like an overburdened parent and says, “I don’t have all day. You have till the count of three to come out on your own before I come in there and make you. You hear me? One. Two…”

The boy’s soft-looking head of curls slowly lifts, and the next thing Tony knows, he’s staring into the biggest pair of honey-brown eyes he’s ever seen. They’re red-rimmed and brimming with tears, swollen from how long the kid’s been crying, but they stay obediently and nervously fixed on Tony as the boy slowly uncurls his limbs and crawls out from under the desk.

Tony’s somewhat surprised that the boy clings to his pillow religiously enough to let the curtain slip down to his waist, held up by only a single tiny, shaking fist. The boy won’t spare either hand to hold the drape up properly so it pools around his hips, revealing his slim, narrow torso, his perfectly unblemished skin.

There aren’t any other bruises, though more could be hiding under the curtain. Tony appraises the kid for a long, tense moment before he asks, “What’s your name?”

Thin arms squeeze the throw pillow tight enough to strangle it. The boy is still looking up at him with that damned pair of Disney eyes. He hasn’t stopped crying.

“‘m Peter,” he mumbles, sniffling.

His voice is cute. A little high for a kid his age, but in an endearing way. “Peter.” Tony nods, pleased. “I’m Tony. Tell me, Pete, how long have you been here?”

Peter glances at Happy, then at Bucky in the doorway, before shyly lowering his gaze to the pillow in his arms. He hugs it tighter and says, “Um...don’t...don’t know what day it is.”

“It’s Tuesday,” Happy says, sounding put out in that wonderful way he always does. “June 16th.”

The boy blinks, looking nervous and unsure as he says, “Since...two days.”

“Okay,” Tony says, “And where were you before that?”

Peter’s shoulders droop. He looks down at the floor with wet eyes, mumbling, “With bad guys.”

It takes everything Tony has not to smirk. “Bad guys? Worse than these ones?”

Peter nods. “They took me,” he says, his little voice completely heartbroken, “from Miss Jones’s place. They waited till she was asleep and they took me. S’been…” Confusion washes over his face, like he’s trying to access some memory that isn’t there. “It was winter. There was still snow outside.”

Before Tony can decide how to respond to that, Happy tactfully pipes up with, “Who the hell is Miss Jones?”

“Michelle Jones Adoption Center,” Bucky says, reading aloud as he stares down at his phone. “Looks like a non-profit adoption agency. Website says the founder also runs a foster home. Is that the one?”

All three men turn to look at Peter, who nods, staring at Bucky hopefully. “Uh-huh. They sent me there when my aunt and uncle died.”

Part of Tony is scared to ask. “What happened to your parents?”

“They died when I was little.”

“Yikes,” Happy says quietly under his breath, though not quietly enough. Tony gives him a reproachful look, then turns back to the boy, whose face is once again soaked in tears, clinging to his throw pillow like it’s a teddy bear.

Tony bites the bullet and says, “I hate to be the one to tell you this, kid, but now that you’ve seen our faces, I can’t let you go back to Miss Jones’ place.”

If the kid’s surprised, he doesn’t show it. He just keeps staring down at his pillow, letting his tears drip down off his cheeks and soak into the fabric. “I just...I want…” His lower lip wobbles, and then the sobs come. “I don’t know. I don’t know. ‘m so - so c-confused. I just want my D-Daddy.”

For the first time in longer than Tony can remember, he’s at a loss for words.

“Want Daddy,” Peter says again, babbling, like a child. The crying is really doing nothing for Tony’s budding headache. “‘m scared.”

“I’m praying this isn’t what it sounds like, but, please tell me Justin Hammer wasn’t your Daddy. Ugh, Jesus, I’m never going to get the taste of those words out of my mouth. Blech.”

Thankfully, Peter shakes his head no, looking just as disgusted as Tony feels. Thank God. “I don’t...I don’t think so. I-I don’t know. They said I had to be good for Daddy. They said I couldn’t go home unless it was with h-him.”

Bucky jokingly says, “I’ll be his Daddy,” but he mutes himself when Tony lifts a hand to silence him, before turning to give Happy a helpless look. The man stares back, then silently gestures to his gun, the question clear as day on his face. Tony immediately shakes his head, waving the man’s hand away from his holster with a steely glare.

Okay, so. That’s interesting. Apparently mercy-killing the boy isn’t an option. Giving him back to gentle-hearted, law-abiding-citizen Miss Jones isn’t an option, either.

So where does that leave him?

Tony watches the boy cry a moment longer before resignedly asking, “Peter, how old are you?”

Peter wipes his wet face on the pillow, refusing to let neither it nor the curtain go long enough to use his hands. “Don’t...know,” he says, after a moment, his brows furrowed like he’s thinking it over hard. “They s-said that was up to my Daddy.”

Stellar. Great big help, that is.

Sighing, Tony rubs his temple to soothe his headache, taking a moment to really look at the boy in front of him. Peter is...well. It’s fair to say he isn’t unattractive. Hammer’s poor taste in interior design apparently doesn’t extend to sex slaves.

Tony’s done horrible, truly vile things in his career, but children are usually where he draws his thin, arguably nonexistent moral line. They’re rarely intelligent enough to interest him in any fashion, but Peter - for what it’s worth - has managed to pique his interest just enough that he finds himself actually opening his mouth and saying:

“Peter. Since I can’t let you go back to your foster home, tell me: would you rather come home with me instead?”

He lets the ‘instead of killing you’ go unsaid, since the boy is already having trouble wiping away his tears. Peter stares up at him with a frightened, mistrustful look that makes Tony’s hands twitch. There’s innocence in those eyes, sure. But there’s brightness too. For all the babbling and childish baby-speak Peter’s given him, Tony gets the very distinct impression that he’s far from stupid.

“With you?” the boy asks, hardly louder than a whisper. His tone is soft and wary, sounding every bit the child he believes he is. “You...you’ll be my Daddy?”

It’s a strange thing, to be fifty years old and still learning such intimate things about himself, like how fucked up he is for liking it when this sweet, baby-faced teenage boy calls him Daddy in his soft, childish little voice. Part of him can’t wait to turn around and see the looks on Happy and Bucky’s faces; the rest of him doesn’t want to take his eyes off Peter for even a moment.

He nods, giving Peter what he hopes is a reassuring smile as he steps forward, offering his hand for the boy to take. “That’s right, honey,” he says, his tone syrupy sweet. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. Daddy’s here now.”

Peter looks between Tony’s outstretched hand and his smiling face, deliberating on what they both know is his only real option. Finally, he lets the curtain drop from around his hips to pool at his feet, revealing his slender legs and freshly-shaven pubic area. Tony’s brain momentarily goes white and fuzzy until Peter’s slim, soft hand hesitantly takes his own, still clutching that hideous throw pillow to his chest like a teddy bear.

Tony grants himself another long look over Peter’s gorgeous frame as he slips his suit jacket off and drapes it over the boy’s shoulders. Peter smiles gratefully and pushes his arms through the sleeves, his face darkening with a blush as Tony starts fastening the buttons. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Fuck. Forcing himself to swallow the growl building in his throat, Tony takes the boy’s hand again and leads him to the door. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you home.”

Peter clings to him as they step through the threshold. Well, Tony thinks to himself, his hand tightening around Peter’s own, at least things won’t be boring from now on.

#starker #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #ru answers #anonymous

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avian-writes · 3 years

Text

The day we found solitude

The Days: Part 2

Content warnings: anxiety

words: 2,026

You would think after what happened last time, Darian and I would never open that damn Randonautica app again. That we would delete it from his phone, block any website with articles on it, turn off app location completely. That we would suppress that memory deep, deep down until brought up years later in therapy. You would also think wrong.

Did we want something similar to happen? Proof that what we experienced was real and not just a dual hallucination? Or maybe we wanted a normal experience as proof that it wasn’t real. Or maybe we were just idiots with not enough time on our hands and desperate for something more stimulating than sleeping all day.

We chose attractor this time. A more dense area should mean not in the middle of the woods again which was honestly our main priority. What could go wrong in a more localized place?

Well, what could go worse?

Manifest what you want

What did we want this time? We glanced at each other and didn’t say a word. I don’t even believe I thought of anything. Just complete blankness, manifesting the void dwelling over our space.

Before we could react, it dinged and a map pulled up. A red flag pinpointed a location neither of us recognized. We took the coordinates to Google maps and waited.

One of the local high schools. Thankfully the nearest one. As much as I loved driving normally, lately all it did was tire me out. But Darian did it last time so it was my turn. We grabbed our bags, now more fully stocked than normal complete with pocket knives and pepper spray, and jumped into my debilitating car.

The sun started to set during the 20 minute drive there, casting an orange glow across the dashboard where Darian laid his head. Just like I wanted to, but I kept my eyes on the road and ears open for any suspicious sounds my car made, a constant and nerve wracking weight on my chest.

“What do you think we’ll find?” Darian asked, eyes moving from staring out the window at the dwindling sun to me.

I shrugged. “This time? Hopefully not a dead animal on school grounds.”

“I’m not the one calling the police if we do.”

“Eh, we can just leave it for the seniors to find in the morning.” Darian chuckled but there was something heavy behind it. I waited a moment but when he didn’t elaborate on his undertoning misery, I reached over and poked his arm. “Hey, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

He was quiet for a few more seconds, staring down at his lap. “Should we have a plan? Or...something grounding? Just in case something happens again?”

I looked over at him. His small eyes were now wide with what I recognized as potential worry and fear. Did I feel it as well? It was hard to tell past all the nerves running me down. “We do have something grounding: each other.” I held the gruff of his sleeve and shook it, not taking my own eyes off the road. “We’ll be fine as long as we don’t lose track of each other again.”

Darian smiled weakly and laughed. “Sappy but yeah, alright. Whatever you say.”

The gate into the parking lot was left open, probably by a school cop who wasn’t paid enough to care. We easily drove in and around the cracked, gray top pavement to the senior lot. Neither of us went to that school; we were both from out of town. But the lot was fairly easy to navigate.

After parking where we hoped was out of sight of the cameras, we got out and stared down at my phone where the map blinked back up at us. We looked at each other and he gestured for me to go first. Traitor.

Following the small dot on the screen, we vultured out of the lot and down the grassy hill towards the stadium. It was completely surrounded by a chain link fence. I looped my frail fingers through the metal bearings and pushed myself up, vaulting over the top and carefully avoiding the circlets at the top. Darian, a known climber of school buildings, easily got up and over. We dropped down on the other side and continued skirting around the hill.

We ended up at the top, hoping over the knee-high bar that was poorly meant to keep kids off the grass during games. The ticket entrances were just holes in the cement walls for people to come and go. The snack bar was in the middle of them. We wandered over and Darian said nothing as I hoisted myself up onto the counter.

I leaned back so I could look at the inside in all its upside down glory. Nothing there. Why would there be in Spring?

I heaved back up, grunting as I did so. “Wanna see if there’s anything in the storage room?”

But Darian wasn’t paying attention to me. He was staring towards a concrete box standing above the seats, two doors leading no doubt to stairs going up. The announcer’s box.

“Darian?” I lightly kicked his leg and he jumped. “You okay there?”

He waved me off. “Yeah, just fazed out there for a moment. What’s back there?”

I swiveled around and hopped off the counter. “Nothing at all. They must’ve cleared it out once football season was over.”

“Were you hoping for some months old candy or something?”

“Candy never goes bad, Darian! We’ve been over this!” We started to laugh but it quickly dimmed to light huffs of breath. The atmosphere was something odd, breaking it seemed like hammering down a barrier to somewhere we didn’t know. Like we were doing something incredibly wrong by even speaking, much less laughing.

We headed down towards the football field, taking the large stone steps two at a time. Jumping down and giving the illusion of shattering our ankles in the process. We ended up at the 50 yard line. Right in the middle.

I turned in circles, gazing in confused wonder at the empty concrete seats on one side and the bleachers on the other, designated home and visitor sides respectfully. I had never gone there before, but I felt a strange sense of nostalgia nevertheless. It was like any other high school stadium.

I would always sit with my family at football games, subtly curling up against the nearest family member as we were surrounded by hundreds of strangers yelling, either cheering happily or screaming in anger.

Either way, it was overwhelming. I could still feel the cold breath of every surrounding person dragging down my back, their eyes darting to me with every small movement I made. Scrutinizing and judging a life they didn’t know and motives they couldn’t understand.

That’s when a high-pitched shriek broke through the air.

The sound pierced my eardrums, shaking my head, brain, mind, everything. I collapsed to my knees and held my hands over my ears in a poor attempt to block out the skull shattering screeching. Nails dug into my hair follicles to rip them from my bare head to overrun the pain searing through my body right then.

My chest didn’t hurt. It was burning. Fire was trekking its way down my throat, chest cavity, all the way until its journey ended in my legs that were tucked underneath me in a tight ball.

Then started the roaring sounds, a rumbling scan over the field and steamrolling right over me into the freshly mowed grass. All the wind was knocked out of me and I coughed and choked on purely nothing. My throat hurt but I didn’t dare remove my hands in favor of holding it. I forced myself to look up and nearly passed out.

The previously empty stands were filled with spectators. I turned around, still pressing my hands over my ears as the piercing sound was gradually replaced with roaring voices. Thunderous speaking over one another as if every person was right next to me, each attempting to be heard over everyone else.

Something covered my hands and I jumped before realizing they were just Darian. I turned my head to see him staring at me confused but alarmed. “Don’t you hear them?” I shouted.

He shook his head and pressed his hands tighter to my head. My cheeks were hot, my face was hot, every muscle in my body was heat running over deep coals. It was agonizing and all I wanted was for it to stop.

“Jake!” Darian moved his hands to my face and forced me to look at him. “Just focus on me, okay?”

I could feel something wet running down my cheeks and I shut my eyes. Shaking my head back and forth, side to side, trying to shake out the spectators’ voice drilling their way into me. The shrieking merged with theirs and everything became a bubble of sound, bouncing off the outside and growing louder.

Darian suddenly took hold of my hand and started running. I was forced to take it off my ear and the sounds grew louder in my head as they took advantage of the entryway into my mind. We ran across the grass and up the concrete steps amongst the spectators. As we climbed past, they reached out almost skeletal like arms at us, grabbing at our legs.

One successfully nabbed my ankle and I tripped on the stairs, banging my knee into the solid stone. Sharp pain erupted in my shin and more tears threatened to prick at my eyes. The hand tugged on my ankle and I started to slide down towards the sourced man.

“Jake!” Darian pulled on my hand but it did little to nothing as I slid down the step, harshly scraping my knee against the concrete. He leapt down next to me and wrapped an arm behind and under my shoulders. “Let him go!”

He yanked and this time, the skeletal hand let go. He got me to my feet and we ran the rest of the way to the top. As soon as we hit the flat landing, the cheering for our demise got louder.

I staggered to my knees under the sheer weight of their chaos, but Darian shook his head. “Nope, nope. It’s not doing this again!” He pulled me back up and looked around feverishly. Eyes landing on the announcer’s box, he dragged me along to one of the doors and threw it open.

He shoved me through and the door slammed shut behind us. The sound dulled but the ringing didn’t. It throbbed my brain cells to smithereens, sending them to combustion inside my small skull.

“How are you feeling? Can you still hear...whatever it is?”

He couldn’t hear them. He wasn’t in extreme mental pain from the phantom spectators. But he did believe me and that was all I needed to know. “I can hear them, but not as bad. It just hurts, so much.” I groaned and held my head in my hands, closing my eyes and trying to block out my own pain receptors.

Darian nodded but judging from his face, he far from understood what was happening. I knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t really registering anything going on, just going through the motions to get out on the other side somewhat intact.

Diluted and weak, we trudged up the stairs further into the actual announcer’s box. It was a small room with a board nailed to either side up against the far wall to act as a desk. Windows were on all the other three walls and I could see clearly through them that the stands were completely empty.

My sore knees buckled underneath me and I collapsed to the ground. Darian was at my side instantly and instead of forcing me to stand up again, he helped me lean against the wall and sat down next to me. “Let’s just, stay here for a little while. Then we’ll get out of here.”

I nodded. “Sounds like a good idea….wanna play sticks?”

“Sure.”

#wip #writeblr #anxiety #the days #wtwcommunity #the day we found solitude #part two

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isthisthingeven0n · 4 years

Text

not taking advantage : d.d

brief summary: during a night out, you end up too drunk to handle yourself so david offers to drive you home. there’s always been something between you two, but with sobriety out of the window, you finally have the confidence to say something

word count: 1.8k requested: yes by a really lovely anon and this idea melts my heart warnings: none that i’m aware of!

* masterlistin’ / masterlistin’ 2.0

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it isn’t me nor do they have my permission. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

“Come on, you gotta get in the car.” Two pairs of arms take yours as they attempt to remove you from the club and up the flight of stairs.

Giggling, you fall heavy in their arms as they groan. “God, she’s being a real deadweight tonight.” Jeff states and you shoot him a look.

“Are you calling me fat?” You slur, struggling to focus on him as he looks past you and over to David. “‘Cause that’s rude and I hate you.” You comment, hearing David giggle beside you.

“Look if we get her in the car I can get her home. She’ll be asleep before she knows it.” David states to Jeff as they manage to get you out of the club, the cool air hitting you as you start to shiver drastically.

“Where did my jacket go?” You speak up as you’re somehow able to stand up straight with a lot of help from the boys.

David’s eyes widen as he looks back at everyone else, seeing confused expressions and shoulders shrugging in response. “Erm, you didn’t bring a jacket, Y/n.” Carly calls out, and you giggle to yourself.

“Oh yeah.” You state dumbfounded before leaning more onto David as you mumble the lyrics to one of the songs you heard throughout the night. “Where are we going now?” You pout as you turn back, seeing everyone going into separate cars.

“Where’s my baby gone?” Zane yells out whilst you’re being escorted into David’s car, hidden from his view.

Much to David’s dismay, you didn’t miss Zane’s comment. “Zane, I’ll see you at the house?!” You yell as Jeff lifts you up, sliding his arms under your legs as he helps you into the passenger seat.

“They’ll see you there, Y/n.” Jeff tells you with a smile as you roll your head to the side, almost falling across and onto David’s lap as he slides into the driver's seat.

Closing the doors, David starts the car whilst you curl up against the window.

He glances over, checking to make sure you’ve not passed out. But he can see your eyes flickering as you follow the flashing lights and street lamps. Under the illumination, he can’t deny how beautiful you are, even if he won’t say it aloud it’s always a thought floating through his mind.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You snap him from his daze, watching as a pink tint crosses his cheeks making you laugh under your breath.

David relaxes his grip on the wheel, leaning back in his chair as he looks your way, seeing you’re looking right back at him curiously.

“How come you got so drunk tonight?” He questions with concern, seeing how much you drank in the space of mere minutes whereas you normally pace yourself, enjoy the night. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you so wasted.” He tries to joke, but he can see you sinking into the chair.

“Just some shit I have goin’ on.” You mumble, not wanting to get into it. “But that doesn’t matter, I’m having fun, alright.” You whine as you look back out of the window, ignoring his eyes on you through the reflection.

“I’m only asking because I care.” He comments, shrugging a shoulder as you turn back to face him, an eyebrow raised.

You shuffle closer, seeing the corners of his lips rise into a small smile. “I’m sorry, you have to repeat that I didn’t quite hear it.” You manage to joke coherently and despite the tequila on your breath, David doesn’t mind you being quite so close.

“You heard me, Y/n/n.” He teases, reaching out as he rests his hand on yours, giving it a light squeeze before returning it to the wheel, leaving you to look down at your empty hand.

“Wait where are we?” You realise as you look outside of the window this isn’t the route to David’s house. A sense of panic fills your systems as your eyes widen and breathing becomes heavy.

“Hey, hey,” He calls out, resting his hand on your thigh as he strokes it slowly, watching as your breathing slows back down to a normal rate. “we’re taking you home.”

Shaking your head in protest you cross your arms. “But I don’t wanna go home.” You state, slouching in the passenger seat as David shrugs his shoulders.

“I’m only following orders.” David admits, holding his hands up in defence. You shoot him a look and he sighs. “Okay so they’re my orders, but still gotta follow them.”

He watches as you roll your eyes before he pulls up outside of your driveway, parking his car behind yours. “Oh good my cars still here.” You sound surprised as the doors open and you fall out.

“Shit.” David states as he climbs over, seeing you lying on your back with your legs in the air, laughter leaving your lips.

“I’m good.” You mutter between chuckles as he holds a hand out, helping you to your feet as you stumble into his arms.

He pauses, looking down to your lips before refocusing on your eyes and how clouded over they seem. “Come on then,” He breaks the moment, resting his arm around your waist as you make your way to your front door.

As you manage to unlock your front door, you immediately slip off your boots and let out a long sigh of relief. “God nothing has ever felt so good!” You exclaim as you sway from wall to wall, nearly tripping over your own feet in the process.

David hovers by your doorway, hesitant to leave you now whilst you’re still drunk. He turns around to close the front door, only to hear a loud crash coming from your living room.

“Y/n!” He yells before running through your hallway and into your living room, finding you on the floor once again but this time you’ve taken your glass side table with you, shattering it into pieces.

“I made a boo-boo.” You tell him sadly, looking down at your hand as it is covered in blood. “Oh fuck I cut myself too.” You add and David slowly helps you up.

“Okay, just jump for me, yeah?” He rests his hands on your waist, helping you over the small shards of glass covering your floorboards. “Let’s get this cleaned up.”

Sitting down on your closed toilet, David kneels in front of you with his brows knitted together. He focuses on your hand and thankfully, it’s not a deep cut. “Now I’m needin’ stitches,” You sing quietly under your breath, hearing David chuckle.

“Luckily you won’t this time, Y/n. Not as bad as Zane I’ll admit.” He tells you, glancing up with a smile as you sleepily smile back, your eyes starting to drop.

“Dave?” You speak up and he hums in response. “How come you’ve never kissed me?” Your question catches him by surprise as he secures the gauze across your hand and stands upright.

“I, what?” He stutters over his words, looking down at you, but you remain focused on him, waiting for a response. “What’d you mean?”

You sigh loudly as you uneasily stand up in front of him. “Is there something wrong with me?” You ask sadly, averting your gaze from him and to the floor as you slide your feet across the small bath mat.

“No, no not at all, Y/n.” He reassures you, resting his hands on your arms as you look up with tears in your eyes. “I just, I don’t want to hurt you.” He mutters, focusing on you as his eyes flicker from yours to your lips once more.

“You won’t hurt me, Dave. I can handle myself.” You whisper as you edge closer, and for a moment David finds himself falling for this.

“Wait, no.” He interrupts, pulling away as he pinches the bridge of his nose, deep in thought. “I can’t, not now. You’re, you’re drunk Y/n and I don’t want this to be how it happens.” David sighs under his breath, walking out from your bathroom as you remain still.

Lifting your fingers to your lips, you can feel where his lips ghosted yours mere seconds ago. But now he’s wandering through your house, trying to calm himself down.

Walking out from the bathroom, you head down the stairs to find him in the kitchen, nursing a glass of water. “David, I, I’m sorry.” You speak up, and he turns to face you.

“No, you don’t have to be.” He tells you, remaining by the sink whilst you stay equidistance away at the doorway. “I just, I don’t want to take advantage of you like this.” He repeats himself and you nod, feeling the tension rising between you.

“I get it. I’m drunk, it’ll be some mistake and we’ll always feel weird ‘bout it.” You shrug your shoulder, trying to make the sting less intense.

David places the glass down as he walks toward you, leaning against the opposite frame with his hands resting in his pockets. “Y/n, I’ll be honest.” He starts and you nod, preparing yourself for the worst. “I, I really like you, and I don’t want to ruin what we have.” He explains and you lift your head up, evidently caught by surprise.

“Wait, you like me?” You blurt out as he chuckles under his breath, nodding to you. “Since when?” You question and David lifts his hand out from his pocket, scratching the back of his neck.

“Erm, for a while. But, I just don’t want to do this whilst you’re still drunk. I don’t want you to wake up and be confused as I’ve been there and it’s shit.” He rambles, seeing you nod along.

“I get it, Dave.” You smile softly to him. “We can talk about it tomorrow, yeah?” You suggest and he smiles back.

“That sounds good.” He answers, feeling his heart swell as you push yourself from the door frame and turn toward your stairs. “Wait, Y/n?”

Turning back around, you can feel yourself sobering up, but you know it’s not the right time. “What’s up?” You ask quietly as David holds his keys in his hand.

He places his keys on the key hook before moving toward you.

Before you realise it, he’s on the stairs and his lips are on yours, his hands on your cheeks as you finally react.

Pulling away, you rest your forehead against his. “Well,” You let out a breathless chuckle. “that I didn’t expect.” You admit and David chuckles too.

“I knew I’d regret it if I didn’t.” He admits before lifting his head up. “I, I’ll go now.” He tells you, but you reach out, taking his hand.

“Will you stay, please?” You quietly ask and David turns back around, not needing to be asked twice.

“I’ll always stay if you ask, Y/n.” He rests his arm around you and helps you up the stairs, never wanting to let go again.

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