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wrongwiredmind · 4 years

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Before I start saying anything I'd like to warn that the content of this post is both gore and contains suicidal thoughts, if any of that triggers you, please do not read, I care about whoever is reading but I can't hold any responsibility for anything that might follow, stay safe, and remember that no matter what, what comes next in your life will be better, one way or another.

This post is rather long, but that's kinda the point of this page, here we go, then.

So, I had almost my weirdest dream to date, right now, and then I thought, to heck with it!! Let's share something!

So first of all, I need to set some points straight before writing so it might explain a few things, hopefully, without giving a lot away about my personality:

(I have no idea how to put them on order, so they're pretty much a mumbo jumbo. Ah~ My favourite type of writing~. Kidding, of course, I actually prefer reading well written stories and articles)

Anyhow:. 1- I have a really deep unexplainable fear of the vast beast called an ocean (or a sea, or really anytype of deep water), I still go to the beach and pools and whatever, but there's always some sort of an icy grip tightening around my non-existent heart.

2- I love IronMan! So so much, and I kinda adopted Tony Stark!! (no one tell him, please!).

3- my adoration of a certain supernatural series made me love batman! (well, not entirely true, I always loved him, but kinda from afar, you get me?)

4- want me to get hooked on something? Give me a fanfic of it!! (of course like a series or a book, not a substance, you bad bad people!!), that's how I loved Bilbo!! (imagine me saying it in my adorable voice, the one I use when I try to sound cute 😉)

5- I binge read a certain fanfic about those two amazing superheroes saving the world, and themselves!! (I refuse to give up the name since if you think this is me oversharing? You've got another thing coming, honey!) that had a cruise and another prototype of the IronMan suit (don't ask which mark it is but it's so fast it broke the sound barrier!!)

6- I'm a little bit under the weather, (not corona, folks!) and my throat is kinda itchy, to the point that I lost all my vocal prowess for a little more than 24 hours a few days ago, still kinda annoying, and my stomach rebelled so much yesterday (before and during sleeping) that I thought she should take the rebellion symbol from Mr. Che Jivara!! (with all due respect to him, I'm only joking, so please no one takes it seriously).

7- I'm a little bit of a spacetoon (and all that's good and beautiful in our childhood) encyclopedia, want a name of a cartoon or a song you can't remember? I'm usually your best bet, after the second mother, google, of course!!

8- this week is so dead that if you want to see zombies come to our lectures any time in it, seriously we're so under a lot of exams, thank God and the doctors for postponing our tasks and assignments' due-date.

9- if I was a little more of an extrovert I might not have had to write most of these strange snippets about me in a freaking post!!!

And finally, on with the dream! (another thing you probably know by now, that I kinda take you around and under and left and right before I say what I want to say).

So, it was an assignment to some sort of subject (don't ask me which, since as far as I know, not a single thing in our curriculum will make me do what I'm about to do here, or at least, I hope so!!!), we made some type of fall-body suit that needed analysing (who am I kidding, it was the IronMan suit!!), and guess who was picked as a pilot? That's right! Yours truly!!

Anyway, good thing to bad, we had to make the prototype test in the middle of the (as I said above) the vast beast! Mr. Oceanus (I know that that is a Mr. Titan, but who am I, the lowly mortal, to deny his decision to appear in my paragraphs? And no, he didn't show up in the dream, thank God! [ours, not any of the others]),

So, I was put in the cruise, in the middle of the ocean, with the IronMan suit, and a seriously sick stomach, can you guess where we're going with this? (I'm actually kinda enjoying writing this since it reminds me of a certain mad superhero/not superhero who finally joined the XMen!, of course he joined a few years ago but I only watch the second movie circa a month ago) no? let me tell you, a bit of dizziness, seasickness, and an already rebellious stomach? Not a good combination, and remember that I really, really fear the ocean (just remembering the dream and the images in my head is traumatising, let alone living it vividly for a few hours), so, I fell, and strangely enough, I was a good swimmer (ah~ I really count my blessings here since no matter who or when someone taught me to swim, I still can't manage), I was able to stay close to the ship, but couldn't really pull myself up, so all I could do was keep a good hold on a rope tied around the ship and keep my legs in a calculated, slow what feels like a walking-in-place exercise,, (I can still feel the water around me, and the gentle waves of the ocean, it was both a calming feeling and a horrible one) and then...

Something touched the soles of my feet, and it kinda hurt, and it continued to move under me till something hit my toes, it was a shark fin, that's right, a shark choose me as his next meal, how honoured I was!!! Kidding i was kinda terrified, but all that YouTube survival videos came to mind, I left the rope of the ship and kinda dipped under water (triple scare, here, yikes!) and I... pushed.. his muzzle?

Yeah, so not really what they taught you in the videos, my polite nature rears its ugly head again (politeness is not as good as it seems, people! actually once a stray dog entered our home and jumped on the couch, and I was asking nicely and politely if "Mr. Dog would pretty please leave us be", and no, I wasn't scared but mom told me not to touch it, and it kinda was a cute, if a mangy mutt)

I didn't really want to punch the shark, even if my life kinda depended on it here, for a few reasons and actually at least one of them was pretty reasonable, which is, my punch is pretty weak, guys!!

Anyway, of course since its skin kinda scratched my feet there was blood, so it didn't leave me alone, two things I concluded here, first, Mr. Shark was either a lazy guy since he was coming to me slowly as if he either was a giant cat coming for pets no matter how many times you push her, or he was playing with his food, aka, me.

The second thing I discovered was that I was really sick in real life since my imagination couldn't conjure another family member of my guest here (again with the small mercies, can you imagine being alone around all these carnivores? And I bet not all of them will be moving so leisurely!!)

So, I finally decided to be the champ of my cruise and punch the thing in the face, so I pulled up all the power I can in my fist and punched him in his snout!!!

And let me tell you, it's not as easy is they make it sound, first, his nose is actually pretty hard, not the sensitive area they led us to believe, second, my hand really hurt and his skin scratched my knuckles, and I believe it kinda broke a bone in my hand, third, and worse, it actually enraged the mister so much that it left me, J-squared again and this time, flew! in my direction and I swear I still feel his teeth sinking in the shin of my right leg, but before he tore it apart, I actually did the right thing to defend myself, I (and I apologise, Mr. Dream shark, but you really hurt both my leg and my feelings!!) poked his eyes, which made for a very awkward stretch to my body, but finally, I was left alone!! With a mangled leg, of course, but hey!! It's not real life, so let's be glad.

The saltwater stinging my feet, still sick, and more dizzy from blood loss, you have no idea how glad was I that I was still near the ship, a little bit more than a meter but still floating, and then, the bad became worse, I actually goT SWALLOWED WHOLE BY A WHALE!!!!!!!!, YUP!! THE WHALE IN THE PICTURE!!!

And then god with his mercies again, it swallowed the ship but opened his mouth for me to leave, neat, ain't it?

But let me tell you what happened in a little more details, I felt a ripple in the water beneath and around me, and the ship started to sway, and a faint sound of something between a roar and strange song-like-sound, feeling the rumble under me was what made me look, and lo and behold!! The mighty animal wanted the meal that the shark didn't get, bye bye world!! Bye bye the suit that I still didn't to get to wear! And bye bye the report I needed to write for this freaking assignment that because of it I might fail and my friends will rail me when they see me!!

The ship and I couldn't help but enter the mouth of the humongous fish, the sounds of the wood, metal, glass and whatever is the cruise was made of was deafening, so loud and cruel, and I got a more than a few bruises and abrasions, and the feel of his teeth behind my back, sharp and huge and bigger than my own size, was something I don't know how to describe, and suddenly between all the breaking and suffocating water and absolute darkness, something caught my eyes, the slits in the helmet of the suit were lit, I'm sure it was a malfunction because of all the destruction on Mark, but it took all my fear, as if sucking it from my own eyes, and as sudden as it glowed, it vanished, but the calm remained, I closed my eyes, since it didn't matter, and just stopped everything, even trying to hold my breath, but not breathing as well, as if all body functions just... Stopped.

And then my eyes flew open again, not because I woke up, but because of an almost crushing change in the water pressure, it just pushed me forward more inside the huge mouth, and when I thought that this is it, I found the whale mouth moving further away from me, taking the ship and Mark with it, and leaving me alone, in the middle of the ocean that I wanted to say "c'mon!! If you ate me it'll be a win-win situation!!!!" but the second I opened my mouth water rushed inside that I tried swimming up to breath (even though not knowing which way is up was problematic, since something similar happened in real life before I wasn't worried, but that's a story for another time), breaking the surface was a godsend, I tell you! But my misery wasn't in any way over, I was so thirsty I actually wanted to drink salt water a again (and then death, oh wow, how smart?), and once the adrenaline deserted me, my leg returned to trying to kill me, and I don't know if it was a real thing if it happened in real life but it actually stopped bleeding, which was both fantastic, since it means that I won't die of bloodloss, and horrifying since I'm not going to die because of bloodloss, at least then I would have been able to calculate an approximate time for my death, but no, I have to wait and see what kills me next, I almost wished that I just had my previous stomachache and be done with.

Anyway, moving was not really an option, and staying was not either, and the breeze was making me so cold my teeth almost broke from all the shattering they were doing, I wasn't really sure when the others might decide to check on me, and I'm not really sure if I was still in the place they left me at, and I really didn't know what to do, I was so helpless, and cold, and thirsty, in so much pain and so so tired.

I cursed the whale again for not ending my misery, and cursed the shark for being a coward and not finishing what he started and cursing the assignment for being so impossible yet important, and most of all cursing myself, though I don't know why, but my self-loathing decided that now is the time to remember how horrible I am.

As physics does, the water raised me till I was floating on my back, which made me feel even more cold but I didn't have any energy to do anything about it, and strangely, I fell into some sort of doze, not asleep yet not really awake and aware, my whole body half above half into the water, though my right, injured leg, was bend in the knee into the water, which made my pained scream when something took hold of it in its mouth the more agonizing since it made my upper body enter the water, and the thing holding my leg left it alone, and I was able to right myself and look around me for the next threat, the fear was immense that I thought I might get a heartattack, which, admittedly would be better than the pain going to be inflicted upon me any second now, looking around finally led me to what attacked me, and for a moment, with my blurry, and fear filled eyes looked like Mr. Shark has indeed returned to finish what he started, he even returned to his play-with-my-food attitude, but when my eyes finally focused they detected differences, from the lighter shade of colors, to the more smooth curves of the fin and snout, and the gentle, warm (even if it looked sleepy) strange brown tone of the mammels eyes,

The dolphin was about two meters away, and looking at me with intense, twinkling eyes (if they were blue and he wore glasses, or at least marking that looks like it, I would have thought that the dolphin was Dumbledore' animagus and I really wouldn't have hesitated this time to punch his already crocked nose.. err.. snout [which it isn't, the dolphin's snout was perfect] with my broken hand!!) and moved slowly towards me, he pushed me gently with his nose in my abdomen, swam back a few inches, then entered the water and moved towards my leg, not touching it, but he was close enough to feel with my already almost destroyed sensitive nerves, he did all of that while I'm standing/floating, stupefied, hardly even breathing, and then he left, and pushed me again with his snout on my back, this time with more pressure that my body couldn't help but move to the dolphin's right side to let him pass, with my hand just above his back, when my hand touched his prominent back fin, he pushed my hip gently, as if telling me something, and pushed his fin into my hand again, it felt like rubber, and I couldn't help but ask "you want me to hold you?" he made a strange clicking noise then kinda slapped the water with his side fin in the other side of me, and bizarrely, his actions made me feel as if he was saying "are you stupid? Why else would I offer you my magnificent dorsal?!!" I stared, flummoxed, at the creature and couldn't help but throw my head back and laugh, I'm certain that it was the tension, fear and hysteria that made me do it, but for me, the whole situation was so hilarious that it seemed like it made Mr. Dolphin look at me and think "alright, the pathetic, hurt, star-shaped blemish is, indeed, stupid and needs help from my majesty" and then, using his right fin, slapped me non-too-gently on the side of my left hip, squeaking something as well and pushed his dorsal in my left hand again, but when he noticed my wince, he actually kinda rubbed his slippery appendage on my thigh while honest-to-god cooed at me that I couldn't help but smile at him, "it's okay, big guy, and thanks; you know, you kinda remind me of flipper!" and then I petted him a couple of times (which he purred at, I think I need a cat! 🤔🤔) then grabbed his fin in a tight but non constricting grip, my right hand was swollen by now so my only hope was to keep holding using my left hand, after shaking his body a little as if to check my hold, he dove with me into the water!! I almost screamed in fright but then he broke the surface and jumped about three meters high into the air!!!

Hello, there, adrenaline, didn't see you since a few!!

He dove again into the water and this time gradually moved towards the surface, with the water flowing into my hair and pushing me from my saviour, my left leg moved on its own violation and moved around the body as if I was riding a horse,

"WOOHOO!!", I shouted once we were in the air again, it was exhilarating; cold, but thrilling, though the warm body beneath me was perfect, he took me in a straight if slightly curvy line, and when I noticed that, I also noticed that his right fin was not moving as his left, I even thought he was injured for a second, but then a sharp sting in my leg and a slight jerk from him made me understand, my injured leg was beneath his wing-like appendage, and he was being considerate, as a solution, I flattened myself on his back, kept my left leg dangling as if in the horse saddle, my right one, as gently as possible, bend on the knee above the dolphin's back, my left hand gripping the top fin with it touching my shoulder, and my broken right hand above Mr. Flipper's cousin head, and then I came into a a sudden realization!! "does that mean I'm Lopaka????" I asked Flipper the second, and he made a sound suspiciously almost like a snort, but my change of position made him move in a much more pronounced straight line; the speed decreased as I started to doze again, as if he was worried about dislodging me, though the annoying feeling of the salt crusting on my skin woke me up, no idea how much time had past, except that the sun was on either the verge of descending or rising, and finally, finally, I saw land and buildings and what not from afar, and I certainly moved to another continent all together, let alone another country, after reaching the area where I could stand comfortably on the ground beneath the water, people started to come to see what was happening, I ignored them for the sake of my silent companion, suddenly he actually stood on his tail fin, and kinda sort of awkwardly leaned on me without trying to put too much pressure, I didn't understand what was happening though it seemed sorta like a hug?

Anyway, I pat his back again, (and again with the weird purring noise), when he released me I felt buzzing in the back pocket of my jeans, I actually still have my phone!!!

Pulling it out and snorting that after everything that happened my phone was still working!! all I could say is "well, it seems like the time of a picture, Mr. Flipper, sir!" and after an awkward kneeling so I could put my injured arm around him and trying to stretch my bloody leg (both meanings are accurate here, tbh) so it wouldn't interfere with the selfie, I positioned my left hand.

And the last thing I remember is the picture of my (Lopaka the second 😂) wide mouth grin and an equally wonderful grin from Mr. Flipper the second!!!

The End.

It really was a dream I had, with all these details, the only thing that's not entirely true about this post, is saying that this is the weirdest dream I had.

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peachyteabuck · 6 years

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study buddy, pt iii

series summary: after crushing on you since freshman orientation, Natasha finally gets the guts to ask you help you pass her postmodern lit midterm, to which you agree.

chapter summary: after an eventful night, there are things you have to accomplish at the library...alone.

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

words: 4,365

trigger warnings: explicit talk of sex work, heavy sexting, smut (incl. fingering, oral sex (F receiving), strap ons, mdlg, humiliation), angst if you REALLY squint

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

part one, part two

You and Natasha stayed like that, her entire body wrapped tightly around you. After sleeping alone for basically the entirety of college, you enjoyed the closeness. It was hard to fall asleep, given how intimate you were to someone you’ve been fantasizing about for, you know, forever. Natasha fell asleep first, mouth pressed onto the back of your neck and hand laying across your waist. When her breath evened against your burning skin and you found the perfect angle to admire the posters on her wall, your own eyes droop closed (what can you say, being the little spoon makes you feel...safe. Also, you hadn’t had sex in a long time and you’re very tired of the mix of solitude and the post-orgasm haze).

When your weekend morning alarm went off, it took everything inside of you not to throw it against the far wall. You played softball for one season in eighth grade and still had pretty good aim, you could probably hit the very center of a beat-up dart board about four feet up from the round. Luckily, you were able to constrain yourself enough to just hit snooze a few times.

Natasha, annoyed by your overly-adorable alarm song (hey, Ed Sheeran is a great artist to wake up to! The guitar calms you as the reality of the crushing weight of your own self-expectations crashes upon you), pushed you to get out of bed. “C’mon, babe you definitely have something to do. And that’s like, one of his worst songs and I need it to stop.”

You shrugged. The Google calendar alert that flashed across your screen notifies that you did, indeed, have to get up and do something. You groaned at the thought of being productive, flopping back down while you told yourself that Zizek would want you to do stay in bed.

Isn’t the only way to defeat capitalism to become unproductive? You’re studying for the next quiz, you tell yourself, even as Natasha starts pushing at the bottom of your spine to get you off the mattress. You’re just experimenting with different ways of destroying the most invasive and deadly economic system. Wait...is capitalism just an economic system, or is it more of a way of life? Can capitalism merely be described as an organizational system and a way to categorize the exchange of goods and services for monetary compensation without influence from government(s)? And like, do humans control the market, or the does the market simply own us like little pawns or a bunch of dumb, yappy puppies? What even is the market? Is the market a finite thing or is it some indescribable, infinite theory? Is it, like the universe, becoming infinitely larger by the minute?

Finally, you sat up, discontented by your own incredibly existential train of thought. As you got up and stretched, you could feel your worn muscles aching and joints popping obscenely loudly. As you bent to crack your back, a dull but satisfying pain started to spread through your body. You couldn’t tell if it was Natasha’s sub-par bed frame or her extraordinary sex kills; either way, though, you’re going to need some painkillers before you leave.

Searching for clothes was...much harder than you anticipated. The pink cotton underwear and matching lace bralette you had pulled on in the middle of the night stood out against the grey cinder block walls, the smoke stains on the ceiling, the deep brown floors. Starkest of all, you were an anomaly amongst the piles and piles of dark clothes. Like a sunflower that’s sunken down to the bottom of the ocean, a ray of sunshine deep within a cave, a small baby animal stuck in a concrete cage.

Still - for whatever reason - you couldn’t find your clothes from the day previous. You would’ve screamed if it wouldn’t further disturb the half-asleep Nat. Why didn’t you just bring clothes with you, you knew were going to be staying over! You even thought far ahead enough to wear a matching underwear set. But no! No, of course you couldn’t just pack an extra skirt and tank or top or something else in your bag. Or even just a toothbrush, or floss, or some fucking gum, because of course you were out of gum. Of course, you were.

Good job, scholar.

After ten minutes of desperate, fruitless searching, you finally accepted your fate of wearing Natasha’s clothes for the day. Sighing, you grabbed a pair of (hopefully) clean workout shorts and a worn hoodie from a band you’ve never heard of and take them into the bathroom to shower.

It was stereotypical, something out of a scene in a shitty romance movie: You wear her clothes as a sign you’re really in love or something, and then she sees how hot you look in clothes you’d normally never be caught dead in, then she fucks you nice and slow with one of those cute white strap ons while she moans into your ear everything she wants to do to you.

Maybe she won’t be fucking you, maybe you’ll ride her dick, or thigh, or her fingers so she can maintain a good look at your in her soft sweatshirt, or maybe-

Fuck, the short and hot shower needed to turn into a long and cold one real quick. A long one. A very, very long one. That also needs to be cold. Did you mention that it needed to be long? And freezing?

When you trekked into the kitchen, you found the cupboards mostly empty. You were able to track down some bread to make toast and discover an egg in the back of the fridge, so you shouldn’t have been be excruciatingly hungry until you could get back to your food-filled apartment. You could pick up a snack on the way to the library if you get hungrier, anyway. Everything should be fine. It’s fine! Everything is fine. You even found some pepper and rosemary, that had to be a good sign.

About halfway through your tiny (and minimally satisfying) meal, Natasha emerges from the bathroom (that’s weird, considering you never noticed her come out of the bedroom). Her sides were fixed, and she had makeup on. Nice makeup on. The soft orange eyeshadow, white eyeliner, blush, bright highlighter, and pink lipstick made her look...sweet, kind, approachable. Her usual outfit had been replaced with black dress pants, black heels, a black dress shirt, and a burnt orange cardigan. You’d guess she’d be dressing for work, or an internship. You watch her closely as she moved behind you and wraps her arms around your waist. Natasha rested her chin on your elbow and pouts, silently asking for a bite of your breakfast like a pitiful dog. .

Reluctantly, you broke off a piece and fed it to her. She grinned as she chews, then kissed your fingertips as she swallowed. “That’s good,” she mumbled.

“Th-thanks,” you managed to get out, still inert at the feeling of her lips on such sensitive skin. In that moment parts of that night flashed in front of your eyes, including when she shoved four fingers into your mouth and told you to prep them for when they’d be inside you. You stuff the last of the bread and egg into your mouth to stop yourself from saying something stupid, sexual, or both. Also, from moaning. But mostly from talking and embarrassing yourself.

Sweet Jesus, you needed to get out of there.

Natasha still hadn’t moved from behind you and pressed her crotch into your bruised ass as she speaks. “You look amazing in my clothes,” she whispered in your ear, nibbling at your earlobes. It was hard to moan and chew at the same time, but she still got the picture as you choked on your half-chewed breakfast. Natasha giggled, a stark contrast to the heat behind her voice. “Look almost as pretty as you did last night,” it sent shivers down your spine. “All spread out and begging for me to touch you.”

You swallowed and whimpered, reminded of the night you two spent together. More memories flooded your brain all at once:

Her standing over you as you babbled for her to “take it, take it Natasha it’s yours it’s all yours please take it.” Her barely touching you with a vibrator while she mumbles how cute you look when you’re a struggling, desperate mess. Her complimenting your high-pitched whines when you’re begging for her to fuck you again, and again, and again and...

“Natasha, please,” you pleaded. You didn’t want to pull away, too entranced with the thought of more time along with Natasha. Still, if you had a sliver of a chance of getting done what needed to be done that day, Natasha would’ve had to let you go first. “I need to go study at the library.”

Natasha stopped peppering kisses on your neck and shoulder to smirk. “Oh, please. You have a whole day off, and I don’t have to leave for work for another hour. We can afford to spend a little more together.”

You sighed as you scrunched your eyes shut and bite your bottom lip. You wanted that so much, so fucking much, but that study session wasn’t a regular one that you can just blow off. You couldn’t just push this work aside and make up the time missed the next day.

That day was that time where you look at all the commissions people have applied for and pick the ones you want to do. You normally only did it once a month, but your rent was almost due, along with student loans and some repairs required around your apartment and you were anticipating your mother’s birthday gift costing a lot (on account of your guilt) and you were hoping to buy some new sticky notes and your favorite pens were almost out of ink and-

In short, you needed money and you needed it now.

That was usually a thing you make into a little time with just yourself; you made some sort of day of it. You’d go to the library, pick one of those secluded rooms where no one can bug you for a few hours, put on the large headphones you only use for when you get super intense in your studying, and listen to your favorite music. You’d track everything in gorgeous marble-patterned notebook you use especially for planning commissions, with some inspiration quote in golden lettering along the front. In it, you’d track stuff props needed, when you’d do the commissions, how much money you’d charge, if there was anything that money needed to go to, if you have to spend anything to buy something specific, and so on.

It was like the calm before the storm of which is taking lots of lots of nude photos and videos of yourself.

All of this means you had to put your foot down and turn down whatever Natasha wanted so you could leave. “Nat, seriously. I’ll be back by,” you checked the clock on your phone. Fuck, it was already nine fifteen. You wanted to be out of here ten minutes ago. “What time does your shift end?”

She shrugged, a little taken aback. “I dunno, like one or two this afternoon. Two fifteen at the latest.”

“I’ll be back before two, I promise.”

Natasha looked you up and down, eyebrows furrowed with concern. She’d never seen you like this in the short time she’d known you. She could feel you were tense, incredibly tense. Sensing something was off, she dropped it and backed off. “O-okay. I’ll see you then.”

You smiled, grateful for her not pressing you on why you seem so pressed. At some point, you’d need to explain to her what you were doing, what you did for a living - especially if this relationship was going where you thought (hoped) it is. But not right then. You’d know when the right time is, and that wasn’t in Natasha’s kitchen with your heart racing. Maybe once you figured out her stance on sex work. But how could you weave that into a conversation?

Hey babe, before we start officially dating, I just wanted to ask you about SESTA/FOSTA, the decriminalization of sex work, and material autonomy? What’s your stance on camming as sex work?

Maybe you could relate this back to what you were supposed to be teaching her, sneak it into a mini-lesson or something like that. Butler’s talked about sex work, so have a bunch of other people. Maybe those people were queer theorists or media studies scholars, but they were still people talking about sex work in a context at least loosely related to post-modernism! Just because those people wrote obscure papers or dissertations from small college in the middle of nowhere didn’t mean their opinions on sex work didn’t matter! But those papers were all probably about prostitution, or escorting, or the phrase “sex work.” None of them about camming or selling private Snapchats and nudes or being commissioned for special videos (which included anything from getting yourself off with a hairbrush or eating cheeseburgers until you throw up). None of them exactly matched up to what you needed to know, making your inquiry that much more complicated.

Still, you could almost imagine the short-answer questions now:

What would [insert author here] say about “modern” sex work verses “old school” sex work? What does newer forms of sex work say about the way capitalism forces us to adapt the ways in which we are productive? What has changed in sex work since its origin? What hasn’t? Why do some disagree with postmodernists stance that the dollar is the most powerful force in the world, whether dissenters believe that racism, sex, or gendered violence is more powerful? How does the frequent use of “porn” as a metaphor show how postmodernists view porn and the way we relate to it? Should porn ever be used as a metaphor? If no, what should take its place?

Grabbing your backpack and phone on the way out the door, you started on the twenty-minute walk to the library. The commute was mostly barren of people, leaving you to the thoughts whirring around your brain.

By the time you’d tripped five (5) times, you’re cursing yourself for nothing taking the bus. Why would you ever need so much time to think? It’s just thinking!

Process might be a better word, though. That girl back there fucked you so good you’d never be able to sleep with anyone else again without measuring them against the night before. You’d never be able to get yourself off without seeing her when your eyelids flutter closed from pleasure. That type of experience just doesn’t happen without changing a woman. Worse, you’d gotten this little baby ache in your sternum and shakiness in your hands that always happened when you had a crush. Why couldn’t you ever see pretty girls without reconsidering your entire life story?

As you kicked a rock over a tree stump, you tried to remember that she seemed into you too. This wasn’t like in tenth grade when you were drooling over that super popular senior girl and it turned out she just wanted to use you for an AP Calc project. This wasn’t some unrequited love story. So why are you so fucking nervous?

Oh. Right. Your profession (or, “profession” as some people have called it in poorly-worded anonymous messages on Tumblr or with fake emails).

Once you stepped inside the library, you found your favorite spot (close to the vending machines and bathrooms) and started working. Once the door had been locked and the headphones were on, you opened your laptop. Slowly, as your email loaded, you saw a notification of a text from Natasha.

You looked behind you on instinct, even though you were completely alone. When all your eyes saw was a wall covered in poorly-applicated beige paint, you sighed and clicked on the little grey box.

As the text loaded, all you could see is that there’s an attachment, and it caused your heart rate to increase dramatically. It felt like a forever later when you finally opened your scrunched eyes, and another trillion years until the photo loaded.

It was a picture of her holding the pink panties you forgot to grab (in your defense, the shorts you snatched from her bedroom floor had built in underwear) back at Natasha’s apartment with the caption “Looks like you forgot something...you gonna come back and get it?”

God, you hadn’t even opened a single commission email, which is the only thing you had intended on doing that day. You should answer at least a few before you text her back…

But a hot girl was flirting with you! Money and paying your rent be damned, you needed to focus on getting laid again.

You hold your breath as your typed, as if filling your lungs would cause your fingers to lose the ability to type.

I don’t know.

You bit your lip as you texted her again.

Why don’t you keep them as a trophy?

You opened one email while you wait for her reply. It was about scat. You specifically said that you don’t do that. Deleted. Immediately after you got a reply from Natasha.

Don’t be naughty with me or I’ll gag you with them.

Before you could reply you get another text.

Or is that what you want?

Um, yes. It was what you wanted. It’s all you wanted. You mean, it’s one of many things you wanted. But you did want it. Since you weren’t physically with Natasha, it’s easy to make your replies a little bolder.

If I did want it, would you give it to me?

You quickly opened another email. This one was easy, just some really artful nudes with your stretch marks on display. Maybe some cool-colored mood lighting. You replied with the normal stuff (the payment, when you’ll have them done, etc). Once that email was sent, you saw another text.

I can give you anything you want, princess

That made you shiver, your hands shaking and breath hitching as you reply.

Anything?

You didn’t have time to open another email before you saw Natasha’s next texts.

Anything at all, Princess

You just gotta tell me what you want.

You felt like God is speaking to you directly. Surely this woman was Heaven sent, given to you by the Holy Father as a gift for all your hard work over the years, or something.

But how am I supposed to talk if I’m gagged?

With that sent, received, and read, you closed the chat before Natasha could reply. If you just opened five more emails, then you could answer. That’s good, right? That’s a good way to keep yourself focused. Four answered emails, two replies from customers, and one blocked user later, you found it in yourself to open the texts from Natasha again.

Oh, really? Is that what you want?

Not gonna answer me?

Looks like you’re actually studying

what a good girl you are

Bad news:

I have nothing to do without you here bc I finished everything early

so I guess I’ll text you what I want

A sharp inhale of breath pierced the stale air, scaring you. Oh wait, you realized. That was you.

Want so much from you. Wanna sit on your face, I bet you’re the champ of eating pussy, aren’t you? So pretty and eager to please. I’d love to see you blow a strap on. Had a girl do that once a while ago, it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. She wasn’t nearly as pretty as you, though. Bet you’d look a billion times better with spit dripping down your face while I shove my cock down your throat. Maybe tie your hands behind your back with those panties you left me. You look so cute tied up.

You nearly choked on the water you started chugging in an empty effort to make yourself calm down. Oh fuck.

That’s when you saw another message from her.

I know you’re reading these, little one. Don’t run from Mommy.

You sucked in a breath, unable to respond. It took forever for you to craft your text, in the meantime you tried to switch back to your inbox to see if there was anything you could do to ground yourself.

No such luck, though.

Tell me more, Mommy. Please.

Natasha happily obliged.

You know what my absolute biggest fantasy is? Me and some other top just domming the hell out of you. Passing you around, leaving bruises all of your pretty little body. You’d be so cute, just mewling and whining under us. Maybe we’d both fuck you at the same time, stretching your pretty little holes to the max.

This woman was about to be the death of you.

I’d love that, Mommy

After you saw that message had been sent, you started to pack up your stuff. You texted her you were about to start your walk home, but before you could stash your phone in your backpack you saw another text.

Don’t worry baby. Mommy’s got you. I’m right outside.

And when you stepped out the front doors, she was. You blushed when you saw her, clamoring into the front seat with your knees nervously knocking themselves together. You were about to stutter out a “thank you” before she lunged forward to kiss you deeply. It was hard, aggressive, dominating. As she pulled away, she bit your bottom lip before she turned back to the wheel. “You’ve been bad, baby. So bad.”

You didn’t speak as she sped away, making your way back to her apartment in record time. Each stop light, her fingers seemed to worm their way up your thighs and tease at the hem of your shorts; each time the light went back to green, and she pulled away, you’d whimper as loudly and lewdly as possible. In all honesty, you were hoping to get her attention. Whether or not it would end how you wanted it to be questionable, but it was worth a shot. You would try anything at that point, to be close to her. To feel the softness of her cardigan, to unbutton her shirt, to unzip her pants.

When you made it her front door, you could barely make it inside before Natasha had you pressed against a wall. She slipped your backpack onto the slightly-warped hard wood carefully, not wanting your laptop to break.

You gasped as she ripped the shorts from your body. “Oh, God, Nat- “

She placed her left pointer finger over your lips as two fingers from her right slid into your dripping center. “Sh, baby girl, call me Mommy,” she whispered before she dropped to her knees.

Natasha didn’t start with any niceties, no prepping, rather she immediately began sucking on your clit and curling the now-three fingers inside of you. You wanted to scream, wanted to cry, wanted to do something, but the combination of shock and the proximity to the front door made your mouth silent as you shook violently. You’d stuffed the sleeve in Natasha’s hoodie as you shrieked from your almost-too-quick orgasms, the fabric muffled your hearty screams as Natasha continued to fuck her fingers into you.

“N- Mommy, mommy please stop,” you begged. “Please stop I can’t, Mommy I can’t take it!”

Nat just laughed, never slowing down. “C’mon, princess. If you come one more time like this for me, I’ll stop. Okay, baby girl? Just one more…”

You’d had both hands covering your face now, your cheeks hotter than the face of the sun as your whole body convulsed. For a moment the feeling you had to piss cuts through the fog that had flooded your meninges, and then you felt a wash of pleasure wave through you that made you collapse against the wall.

“Hey, baby girl,” you heard Natasha coo in a metaphysical plane not your own. “Hey, princess it’s okay, I’ve got you.”

It took a few moments for you to come back, for your vision to stabilize. When you were finally able to see the woman in front of you, the first thing you noticed was her cheeks and lips and chin and nose glistening wet. While you looked confused, a shit-eating grin broke out on Natasha’s face.

“Was that your first time squirting?” She asked, her voice just above a whisper and full of excitement.

You nodded. “Y-yeah.”

Her grin only got bigger as she picked you up and brought you into her bedroom, sheets just as messy as when you had left them that morning. The uneven fabric was uncomfortable as she dropped you onto them, but then was no time to complain. No, you were smart enough to know as Nat held up a toy in each hand that you were not in a position to grumble about the sex-dirty sheets or protest to being thrown or grumble that this woman seduced you into coming home from the library early that day.

“Which toy you want, sweetheart?”

They were both silicone cocks, the one in her right hand a glittery pink while the toy in her left a matte black. The pink one was sleek and long, but the black one was truly the one that caught your attention. It was girthy, veiny. Your pussy already ached looking at it, and you squeezed your thighs together for relief as you imagined Natasha fucking it in and out of you at a pace that would leave you bruised and breathless.

Natasha noticed this right away. “Aw, is my little princess feeling greedy today?” She crawled on top of you after pulling on the strap and securing the toy in place. “You sure you want this one baby girl? You sure you want me to fuck you with something so big…could your tiny little cunt even take it?”

All you could do was whimper.

“Good girl,” she purred. “This is gonna look so cute covered in your cum.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff lemons #black widow x reader #lukis writes stuff #study buddy

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jelanisaeed · 5 years

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Writing Prompt #123 – Enchantress

“Is this a joke?” She said, looking down at the toy gun pointed at her.

Enchantress didn’t expect an answer from the strange girl. Though an explanation would satisfy her boiling curiosity. Most criminals staged museum robbery in the dead of night when security became their only worry. Especially when they targeted Orchid Ocean’s prestigious Museum of Fine Arts of all places. Even the most basic of thieves abided by these rules!

Enchantress had only been inside the grand building once for a school trip and regretted it. Millions of bodies clustered together in a sticky, sweat mess. She loathed the experience and wished anything for a refund.

Though, he thanked the kiinbies she wasn’t claustrophobic. Still, that day haunted her dreams for a month!

Regardless, she didn’t understand the appeal. Don’t get her own, she loved the artwork. Many of the best painters and sculptors had their work showcased there. The only highlight of that horrid trip was chance to see the critically acclaimed painter, Dijonay Walker. Even received her autograph! But would she stage a theft in broad daylight?

I mean I wouldn’t fight me, she smirked and folded her arms. Everyone knew of the might Enchantress wielded. And no criminal proved themselves a worthy contender.

Yet here she stood, facing off with a child.

The little girl maintained her cool smirk as she tapped the trigger of her toy gun. Eyes concealed by the shadow of her bright red visor. Though, her auburn hair billowed out the back and danced at her waist in a single, thick braid. For the occasion, she decked herself out in a turquoise armored catsuit that glowed against her carob skin.

“Does this look like a joke?” The girl spoke with a husky tone people died for. Well-fitted for her petite form. She flexed her finger before bringing it rest against the trigger again.

She had gall, Enchantress gave her that. Though, the toy failed to match her attitude—no matter how atrocious the red and yellow paint job was.

“Listen kid, you’re embarrassing yourself,” Enchantress chuckled. “Maybe you’re new ‘round here, but I’m Enchantress. Kinda a big deal, ya know?”

“Camo don’t care,” she scoffed. “Now, surrender or Camo’ll blow yer heart out, girlie.”

Bold. Oh, how she loathed bold criminals. Though, if Enchantress had an army of thirty men maybe she’d be bold two. All decked out in matching armor with high-powered rifles she only saw in old pictures. Unitech weapons. And the plot thickens. Mommy wasn’t going to like this.

In her peripherals, she saw them powerup their guns. Smart. Rarely did she encounter gunmen with braincells. But it took more than rifles to intimidate her.

“Adorable,” Enchantress scoffed and turned up her nose. “But attitude won’t get you far with me. Stand down and maybe I’ll put in a good word for ya.”

“Heh, same to you, girlie,” this brat—Camo, if she understood right—maintained her smirk as she nodded to her men. Footsteps rampaged around her until they faded into the distance. “Now, back off and we’ll be on our way.”

Well, diplomacy failed. At least she confirmed she could talk to criminals. Now Kayode could leave her be!

Enchantress slapped the toy away. Lavender light crackled and kindled against her leather gloves worse than embers from a campfire. “Enchantress Love Burst,” bolts of lavender light shot from her hands and knocked out several of the gunmen. But the rest turned on her, readying their weapons. Shame they never had a chance. “Halt,” she commanded, oozing magic through her voice. And the men froze in space.

Nothing like a little persuasion to finish the job.

Now, to handle the brat. “Camo will only repeat herself once,” Enchantress froze, staring down at the toy angled at her skull. When did she— “Stand down,” she scowled, leveling her toy at Enchantress’s chest. “Or die.”

Die? She couldn’t help but laugh. Who did this brat think she was? Only a few managed to harm her, let alone come close to killing her. Unfortunately for her, toy guns ranked astronomically low on that list. Nonexistent at that.

“Kill me? I’d love to see you try, darlin’.”

No way would she, daughter of Titaness and Huntsman, lose to a brat half her size. Especially not one harmed with a toy gun.

But the brat just smirked. “Camo hoped you’d say that, girlie.”

{Brandy, move!} Kayode voice screeched through her mind and she jerked, stumbling to the side.

And just in time. Blinding pain flared up her arm worse than a hailstorm of knives. She screamed, gripping her injured right as she kicked off into the air. High above the brat, she sighed. A dirty trick. There had to be a sniper somewhere. Though she owed Kayode big time for the warning. Shame that brat duh her grave—

Wait, why’s my glove wet? Her eyes fell to her injury and widened. Twin rivulets oozed down her ebony skin, staining it an eerie, dark red. Is that…? With great deliberation, she removed her hand.

Blood.

Thick, sticky, painfilled blood.

But how? Lavender eyes scanned the room, but she found nothing. No knife, blade—just a thin layer of smoke streaking through the air.

Smoke?

There it was. A smoking gun barrel.

A smoking toy gun barrel.

What the hell?

“Fire!”

Gunshots exploded through her sensitive eardrums, slicing through the air faster than anticipated. One even smacked her across her forehead. Only to ricochet through the floorboards. Seriously, she scowled, crossing her forearms. Lavender light embraced her like wings, blocking those irritating metal metals before they reached before.

The light of dove prevented any darkness from reaching her heart.

Not that she needed it. Bullets never deterred her in a fight. These foolhardy men only wasted their time and ammo.

No, the brat was the real threat. Whatever that toy of hers did, it broke through her skin. And only highly condensed magical shots achieved this feat. However, she couldn’t sense any magical vibrations from the toy. Or even the bullet it shot! No magical weapon possessed vibrations as stagnant as that toy.

I guess it doesn’t matter. These thirty gunmen took immediate priority. Enchantress doubted the brat could steal anything without them.

Lavender light filled her senses as she inhaled. Calm. A cool mind solved all problems. Or so her mother said. With a cool mind, the red strings of fate became more apparent. She didn’t need to see the shuffling men to hone onto their location. Checkmate, she lifted her uninjured arm and set it ablaze with lavender light.

“Enchantress Searing Kiss!”

With a single swipe, she unleashed an onslaught of flaming hearts. Screams echoed through the museum as bodies flew. The gunmen? Defeated bodies riddled with scorch mark across their armor. Their rifles now melted piles of black ooze scattered across the titled floor. She smirked and lowered herself to the floor. Now, that brat deserved her undivided attention—

Bang!

Enchantress shrieked and ducked for cover. Magical vibrations or not, that toy operated like any pistol she knew. She rolled to her feet and countered the bullets with a fury of lavender hearts. Explosions filled the air with burst of magical lights. The perfect distraction. She kicked off into the air and flew passed any stray bullets.

During high-speed flight, most mages couldn’t keep up with their surroundings. Their bodies moved faster than their mind could keep up. Scenarios like those made airborne fights uncomfortable for many fighters.

Then again, most mages didn’t have Titaness for a mother.

Despite her speed, Enchantress maintained an eagle-eyed view of the floor. And while she couldn’t see Camo’s physical form, she saw the light trail of the bullets. Though they were…sporadic. Fired from angles and directions only a master markswoman achieved. Still, they painted a great picture.

It’s her, she scowled, soaring underneath another onslaught. Heart-shaped daggers exploded the pesky bullets before another wave forced her to soar higher. But why can’t I—

Movement. Right in her peripheral, a shimmer patch of air ran passed a colorful painting. Gotcha now! A heart chain jutted out her jacket sleeve and tore through the tiles. Debris rained from above. of hearts shot out of her jacket sleeve and stabbed the tiles without hesitation. Debris hovered in the air.

Until a patch came to rest midair.

Invisibility! Of course. No wonder she couldn’t find that brat! She scowled and u-turned from an onslaught. Only to wince soon after. Another bullet grazed her injured arm. And then another tore through her tore and bruised her side.

“Nngh,” she groaned, unleashing another array of flaming hearts. “The cat and mouse game ends!” She dug deep inside and stroked her soul-stone. A surge of love blossomed through her veins. And the flames burned its way to her mind. It chanted a phrase to her, awakening the dove dwelling inside. Within a burst of spiraling hearts, her trusty war-fan materialized before her.

“Enchantress Heartache Scorn!”

People told tales of violent love. How it ravaged the land worse than a cyclone. Destroyed homes and severed familial bonds with nary a care. At its worst, love became a toxic, abusive force with only one purpose. Nothing like the passion flames burning through her soul. Instead, it sucked the life out of its host and left the hollowed husks for a new body.

Mommy taught many proverbs on the winds of love. How treacherous they were when they tore through the heart and left only a bloody mess.

Teachings she took to heart.

Enchantress whipped her fan. And she unleashed violent winds. A powerful storm tore through the room, ripping bodies from the floor and tossing around artwork. She only thanked the kiinbies her magic failed to damage them. Though she bet Kayode had something to do with that. But those men and the brat? They weren’t so lucky.

The brat’s screams overwhelmed the powerful winds. Her men no better as scorned winds tossed their battered bodies around like ragdolls. Thus became the power of a tortured heart drowned in bloodlust. The brutal windstorm carried the girl off into a display of the hunting man. A broken doll littered in lacerations as she hung from a fake spear.

Poor kid, she sighed. She hated it came to this, but she had her mission. As a hero of Orchid Ocean, she couldn’t allow her emotions to get the better of her. But it pained her to see a proud, silent girl reduced to battered heap.

A girl young enough to be her sister.

Bile rose in her throat, but she pulled herself together. The brat would be fine, she recited. Only confirmed by the slow rise and fall of her chest. Just unconscious. Enchantress could live with that.

{Brandy!} A solid force smashed into her, latching his arms around her. Kayode? Her twin brother squeezed her, a clear reminder of the impressive strength they shared. She floated to two to ground and ran a hand through his twisted hair. Poor Kayode looked worse for wear, but nothing like she feared. Though it must’ve been tough for him to lose his magician’s hat.

But the questions could wait. She only pulled him and sighed as he hid his face in her long, chestnut brown dreadlocks. This time, he wouldn’t slip her fingers.

#Writing Prompt #Enchantress #Philos Universe #Philos #Black Girl Magic

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