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mins-fins · 2 days

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☁︎ CHAPTER ONE : wait THATS the new guy!?

in which.. you are definitely not enjoying your first day at skyline highlights word count 1.2k

You truly want to die right now.

If you were to earn a nickel for every time you showed at a new job and you encountered two people arguing right in front of building, you would have a good twenty five cents! Five times! Five times this has happened to you! Your starting to think this exact situation has been programmed into your life, no matter where you go it always happens.

If you knew this was going to happen each and every time, you would've stopped trying a long time ago.

The two unknown guys arguing clearly don't notice you, and you feel your face burn as you stand there awkwardly, trying to figure out when you're supposed to start talking. "Um excuse me?"

Both men pause their shouting match and snap their heads towards you, and you swear you almost jump at the way they stare at you. "Oh hi! Do you need something?" The taller of the two asks, your eyes wander over to the ID wrapped around his neck, you are just barely able to read the name etched onto it, watching as it swings back and forth, his name is Kim Jungwoo.

"Oh I uh.. I'm a new hire".

Jungwoo and mystery boy, who you've now identified as Nakamoto Yuta both blink, seemingly puzzled by your words. You want to dig a hole, lay in it, and die, because they're staring at you so intensely that you think they might be trying to curse you. "Since when did we have a new hire?"

Yuta looks baffled by the question, turning to Jungwoo with a scowl leaving his lips. "I literally told you yesterday and kept reminding you a week before that a new product manager was coming after the last one got fired! You never listen to me!"

"Oh do you blame me for not listening you? Your the biggest liar around!"

"Was it because you didn't believe me? Or because your so airheaded you can't comprehend more than a paragraph of information?"

"You do this every time, no wonder Mark is the only one who can tolerate you.."

You blink as you stand between the two and watch their screaming match again occur, oh you're never going to get anywhere with the way everything is unfolding. You don't know how to exactly.. mediate this argument, so you sort of just stand there, watching as their voices get higher and higher.

"Are you two going to argue the whole time?"

The two again stop arguing when a third voice interjects, cutting them off midway through another snappy insult. They both roll their eyes like petty children, but they stop arguing. "Your making the poor guy nervous".

"Blame Yuu for that.."

Yuta wants to respond with another insult from the recesses of his mind, but he's stopped by a glare from the stranger. "You two, be quiet, you're so annoying" He then gives a smile as if he didn't just insult them.

He then turns to you, extending his hand out for a handshake. You reluctantly take his hand and shake it, why do you feel so awkward?

"Moon Taeil! Assistant manager, it's nice to meet you, Yn".

You were about to respond to his greeting, but you pause as he says your name. He notices your confusion, because he snickers. "I read your resume! It was very impressive.."

Your face heats up at the words, and you finally find your voice. "Oh was it? Thank you, thank you! It's nice to meet you too, Taeil".

"Alright! Yn, Yuta, Jungwoo, we still have like nine other people to introduce you too.. anyway, we have to start!"

Without asking, Taeil jolts you forward by the hand, making you squeak as you get tugged into the building.

"Are you nervous?"

Taeil's question makes you clear your throat, an exhale leaving your lips as you stare at the door in front of you. "Yeah" You respond, a pained smile on your face as you earn a hum from the man beside you.

"There's nothing to be nervous about, they all just don't know how to have a civil conversation without shouting".

"Yeah I can see that—"

"Maybe you should check your information before you try to correct me on something!"

"And maybe you should check your tone of voice before your position is taken away!"

You narrow your eyes judgmentally at the door, listening to the rising voices continuing to go back and forth. Taeil laughs at the look on your face, you don't think you've ever been met with so much arguing before, especially on the first day on the job. "What are they even fighting about?"

"Something stupid like if a hotdog is a sandwich or whatever.."

The answer makes you chuckle, and you look to the side as to not begin dying laughing. The door clicks open, and a stressed out employee steps out, sighing heavily. "At this point were never actually going to get to our achieved goal".

The stranger rolls his eyes, but the look of distaste on his face quickly disappears as he turns to you, smiling. "You must be Yn, Lee Taeyong, it's nice to meet you".

Jesus is everybody who works here some gorgeous angel? The question which crosses your mind amuses you, but you don't laugh in fear of looking crazy in front of your new coworkers. "It's nice to meet you too, are they.. okay in there?"

Taeyong blinks, then turns back towards the door, the shouts from inside piercing his ears. "I'm not— yeah I can't even tell anymore, you have nothing to worry about, though, they are all pretty much harmless for the most part" He waves a dismissive hand, placing his hand on the doorknob and turning it open.

You're not sure if that makes you any less nervous, but Taeil places a hand on your arm and gives you a reassuring squeeze. "Come on".

You almost want to immediately run away when you step into the room, the shouting is still there, it seems that these people enjoy throwing insults at each other like there's no tomorrow. You raise an eyebrow as you listen to their excessive swearing.

Taeyong sighs once again, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Everyone shut up!" His shout is enough to get most of the yelling to step, even with the distasteful murmurs that follow. "Thank you, this is Yn, the new product manager".

And suddenly, everyone is looking at you, staring you down and practically examining every part of you.

"Wait THATS the new guy!? I thought he was coming tomorrow!"

Yuta then lets out another scoff, punching the taller male beside him in the shoulder. "I told all of you he was coming today! You never listen to me!"

"Can you blame us?"

"Why do all of you say that!? At this point Mark is the only one I can trust".

Taeyong sighs, work is never going to get done. Taeil simply chuckles, amused by the shouting of his coworkers, he looks to you and pokes at your shoulder. "You'll get used to their.. stupidity, you've already met Yuta and Jungwoo, Taeyong is team leader, Johnny marketing coordinator, Doyoung works in finance, Jaehyun communications, Mark creative direction and Donghyuck is head of operations".

You think you mishear him when he points at Donghyuck, who looks like a teenager, you blink, then look back at Taeil. "Donghyuck?"

"Yes?"

"He's head of operations?" You ask, sounding much more judging than you want to. "He looks so.. young".

"Oh, yeah, he's the youngest of the bunch, he's only been here like two years!"

"So why is he head of operations then?"

Taeil simply stares at you, it seems he'd rather leave that question unanswered. "He's just good at his job, of course!"

You blink again, narrowing your eyes at him.

You might not survive your first day here.

previous masterlist next

taglist 𓏧 ↳ @junjiie, @freckledsunshin3

#☆ skyline highlights! 일이칠..#nct 127 #nct 127 au #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 drabbles #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 series #moon taeil #johnny suh #lee taeyong #nakamoto yuta #kim doyoung #jeong jaehyun #kim jungwoo #mark lee #lee donghyuck #nct 127 x male reader #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

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loveletterworm · 14 days

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like 8 hours into bloodborne i finally found out that you can press the r1 button to attack things and not just r2 which was the only one i was pressing on purpose for a really long time

#It took me a while to find out what the l1 button did as well.#I thought attacking was just really slow and kind of bad on purpose because the game was supposed to be hard.#i was just accepting it. i thought i figured out so much when i found out about the l1 button but now there's the r1 button too.#it's all very impressive that i managed to not notice these for such an extended period of time.#mypost

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upon-a-starry-night · 17 days

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Love Favors The Misfortunate

Natasha Romanoff x Gender-Neutral Reader

Natasha Masterlist Main Masterlist

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Minor Violence

Summary: Misfortune always seems to follow you no matter what you do. But where there’s trouble, Nat often follows, maybe love was on your side after all?

Disclaimer: This was part of a writing exercise I did so it’s kind of silly and unedited but enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Somehow you always managed to wind up in the worst situations that Earth could possibly experience. You wondered if you were just cursed or something considering last week you were present for not one but two bank robberies.

Maybe that was just the life of a delivery driver?

You hoped the lady behind the bank counters Caesar salad tasted better after death threats and salty tears of desperation.

This time, however, in the middle of checking the GPS during a stoplight, the sound of screams alerts you to the number of people ditching their cars and running past your motorcycle in fear.

Looking up you see the giant rip in Earth's atmosphere, monster-looking creatures spilling out of the hole.

Oh, Good.

You immediately kick your motorcycle into gear, walking the bike through the crowds of people until you can manage to make a U-turn and speed off, weaving your way through the panic.

You spare a few glances into your mirrors as more flying monsters spill out of the sky and it's during one of these glances that you fail to notice the giant alien who has just landed in the street a few feet ahead of you. By the time you notice him you only have enough time to attempt a full stop which results in your bike sliding from under you and skidding across the pavement. Ouch.

Much to your luck, however, the bike collides directly with the monster and sends it straight into its own spear. A weird purple liquid oozing slowly from underneath the unconscious body.

You frown, it was going to cost a pretty penny to get your bike fixed if it was even salvageable and now you definitely weren’t getting paid for the hamburger and fries that were probably still warm in your delivery bag.

Maybe you could see if french fries taste better after near-death and motorcycle debt.

Wincing, you feel your arms already bruising and your jeans have ripped through to your thigh, you're not bleeding as much as you probably should be from that slide but it still hurts like hell. Thank god you were wearing all your safety equipment.

A hand is extended out to you and you graciously take it, looking up to meet eyes with the prettiest redhead you’ve ever seen. She’s giving you an impressed smile and you feel like you could melt right then and there. Although that might also be from the burning pain in your leg.

You probably need to find a hospital. Or maybe you were dead and this was an angel.

You always figured they’d look like the horrendous abomination of eyes and wings that they were described as, not as pretty redheads with striking green eyes but you weren’t complaining.

“That was a good move” There are still people running past you screaming but it feels like time stops when she speaks to you.

“Yep. that was definitely something I did on purpose” Drumming your fingers on your thighs you watch her chuckle and give you a look that tells you she knows you did not, in fact, do that on purpose.

You glance between your bike and the woman in front of you, screaming civilians making the moment almost comical. You felt like you were in some kind of rom-com apocalypse.

Despite it being the last thing you should probably do, you extend your hand out to her and tell her your name. She gives you a very amused look and you shrug your shoulders as if to say ‘Why not? We’re here aren’t we?’

She chuckles again as she takes your hand, introducing herself.

Natasha. Derived from the Russian name Anastasia, which means resurrection. Maybe she was an angel. Damn.

Natasha nods her head in the direction of the crowd and smirks “Shouldn’t you be joining them?” You shrug. “Unless you know more moves like that?” She gestures toward your beat-up bike and you shake your head

“No. Unfortunately, I haven't mastered the art of more than one motorcycle trick yet” Not that you could get that thing to start back up again after that anyway.

She shakes her head with a laugh, glancing over her shoulder at the mess the city is becoming before turning back to you. “ Well I guess until you learn you should probably get running”

You nod, a little dejected, your calmness in relativity to the situation was likely the result of a concussion but you weren’t worried. Unless Nat was not real, in that case, you should be worried. Very Worried.

“Will we meet again?” it’s cliche and you immediately feel like a protagonist in a Disney movie but it’s a genuine question.

She smirks and looks around at the city again, gesturing to the absolute clusterfuck that New York had become “For your sake, I hope we don't”

You know she doesn’t mean anything bad by it and it’s your turn to smirk when you say “Knowing my luck, we will” You hope she finds herself near a few banks in the upcoming months…

She smiles at you and nods her head in the direction of the crowd and you understand what she’s trying to tell you. With one final wave and a small “good luck” you run in the direction of your fellow New Yorkers, occasionally glancing back to see her running in the direction of the main battle.

You didn't know who she was but Damn did you want to.

~~~

The next time you find yourself in a particularly unfavorable situation is not for months later. Minus that one time you witnessed two old ladies get mugged and that time you almost got hit by an ice-cream truck. But you got free ice cream from the second one so you weren't counting it.

You’d taken up a job in a small pizza place to pay for your bike repairs. It didn’t pay much but you didn’t have that many options after New York got attacked by aliens and half the businesses were destroyed or temporarily shut down. This is one of the few places still open which means on Friday nights you were busy as hell.

It was not a Friday night. It was a Tuesday afternoon and your coworker who was supposed to be on shift with you called out sick which meant you were manning the shop by yourself. Your stupid coworker was probably just off cheating on his girlfriend again but you didn’t care because the shop was empty which meant you could play games on your phone without his judgmental stare.

You’re struggling through level 5 of Candy Crush when the sound of breaking glass comes from the front of the shop and you sigh. You would be surprised but it was New York, more specifically it was your life in New York.

What you are surprised by, however, is the sight of familiar red hair covered in glass in the entryway, and you really want to rub your eyes with the squeaking sound effect like in the cartoons but the amount of microfibers that just got released into the air would suggest not doing that.

“Well well well” You realize you sound more like a supervillain than you intended and you freeze when she stands and sharply turns in your direction, gun pointed directly at you. You throw your hands up in surrender immediately. Goddamn supervillain catchphrases always making pretty girls turn their guns on you.

When she seems to recognize you she relaxes only for a man to jump through the already broken glass window and tackle her to the ground again. You want to help but considering you still haven't learned any more motorcycle tricks(or any tricks in general) you figure you would probably be useless.

You watch helplessly as she disarms and renders the guy unconscious in a matter of seconds and then stands and dusts herself off. The guy on the ground looks like some old-timey variation of Hitler and you're pretty glad she knocked him unconscious before he could even notice you.

You focus back on Nat who's looking at you like a wounded animal that could run away at any moment and It’s then that you realize that most people are not quite used to these kinds of situations. Clearly, you weren’t like most people. You point to the body in a trenchcoat on the ground as you crinkle your nose

“Are you taking that guy with you when you leave?” She huffs out a laugh and you feel yourself smile at successfully getting her to laugh again.

You, one.

Hitlerman, zero.

At least you were winning one game. Stupid Candy Crush.

She looks around the shabby pizza place and then zones in on your nametag, only them seeming to realize you worked there. She tilts her head, nodding to your flimsy little name pinned to your T-shirt.

“Why are you working here? Where’s the bike?” You sigh, you knew the question was coming but it’s still a sore subject for you. You internally punch a wall but on the outside, you frown just a little. It’s the saddest expression Nat’s seen on your face so far.

“She’s in the shop. Repairs are taking longer than I thought and now I’m forced to conform to my least favorite type of work just to get her back” Nat gives an understanding nod and then cringes a little, walking towards you until she’s right in front of you. She places a hand on your head and you inhale sharply.

A small frown forms on Nat’s face “You’re bleeding”

The feeling of her hand on your face confirms that she’s not an angel or a figment of your imagination and you don’t realize you’ve voiced that thought out loud until you hear Nat barking out a laugh.

“I’m flattered but, well-” She glances up, then behind her, then back towards you “I wouldn’t be so sure just yet” She smirks and removes her hand just as a ceiling panel falls from the roof. Dust flies into the air and you cover your face to avoid getting more shit in your eyes.

When the room finally settles Natasha is nowhere in sight but there’s a Captain America band-aid on the serving counter and you feel a small smile across your face. What a dramatic exit. Now who was the supervillain?

You take great notice of the fact that Hitlerman is also gone and you wonder how the fuck she managed to do that. But more importantly, you hoped this wasn’t coming out of your paycheck.

~~~

You can’t emphasize enough to most people how much you’re not even trying to be in the situations you get caught in. In fact, the one time you stayed home for a week you ended up catching the Flu. How the hell do you catch the flu from staying home? After that, you just accepted that you were a magnet for misfortune and there was nothing you could do about it.

Although, after meeting Nat you found yourself a little excited anytime something misfortunate happened and that was probably psychotic and you should definitely check yourself into a psych ward but you’d probably end up choking on a crayon and getting deemed a risk to those around you so what was the use?

Still, of all the robberies you’d been a witness to you’d never been a part of a hostage situation. Until now. Stupid Banks!

Usually, you’d assume that the police would handle a situation like this and you’d be stuck in this bank for hours until someone grew a dick and negotiated something but this time circumstances were a little different. To start, the guy who was currently robbing the bank was holding some type of gun that was the equivalent of real-life freeze tag.

Anyone who got zapped by the oddly blue glowing gun was frozen in place, which led you to problem number two.

The police had shown up nearly half an hour ago and someone must not have briefed them on this wacko holding you hostage because the second one of them snuck in the back door with a gun he was frozen in place looking like the idiot that he probably was.

You would attempt to grab his gun but you didn’t feel like doing that shit. Who were you to risk your life and try to be a hero for some money that this poor fellow probably needed considering New York's rent cost.

Maybe if the stupid fucker hadn’t frozen the one lady who knew the code to the very comically large bank safe he wouldn’t be stuck making stupid negotiations and holding people hostage.

Instead, you settled against a wall near a bunch of crying civilians and attempted once again to beat level 10 of Candy Crush. You give up after ten minutes and delete the app. Really you were just trying to kill the time until you-know-who showed up.

She and her band of merry men had grown a reputation for taking care of situations that the regular authorities couldn’t and that’s why you weren’t the least bit surprised when the room began to fill with a cloudy white smoke.

Others began panicking, fearing that it was some sort of poisonous gas and you rolled your eyes. This was not poisonous gas, you’d seen poisonous gas and this was not it.

This was a very dramatic entrance formulated by your absolute favorite redhead. God, you felt like you were in a spy movie. Any second now you’d see a faint figure slowly descending from the ceiling in all black with a gas mask on and spy music would start playing.

Any second now.

Aaaaaany second now-

A scream from beside you makes you jolt and you find the sobbing woman next to you with a hand over her mouth. A gruff-looking man is telling her to keep quiet and your eyes widen for a second as you think ‘Oh shit. Double robbery.’ But from behind the gruff-looking man walks a familiar figure and she pats him on the shoulder as she passes him.

You squint your eyes, what an oddly metal-looking shoulder. Perhaps you were hallucinating. Stress and all that.

By this point, enough white smoke has filled the room that the bank robber is wildly swinging around in fear as he squints to see. He’s probably more on edge after that woman's scream as well. Yeeeeah more of a horror movie than a spy movie now.

The reason you can see everyone so well is due to your superior eyesight and definitely not the science lab goggles that you had in your bag for no suspicious reasons. Hey, you had to be prepared for literally anything considering your luck.

Nat’s wearing some kind of night vision-looking goggles and a mask and when she passes you you poke her leg. She jumps a little, glaring at you until she seems to recognize you despite your flawless Lab Scientist disguise and her eyes widen. Her eyes seem to scream ‘What are you doing here’ but you feel it’s too obvious of a question to bother answering.

Instead, you give her the biggest smile you can muster and a friendly wave, mouthing “Hiiii Nat!”

She rolls her eyes but you can see the smile she’s hiding under her mask and you mentally fist pump. Three for three.

You point to the man wielding the gun and mouth to her “Go! Team go!”

She shakes her head, exasperated by your lack of fear and self-preservation but holds her finger up to her mouth telling you to be silent as she turns to sneak up on the man.

Your body does so love disobeying orders though, so it chooses that moment to sneeze, which has the man pointing the gun in your direction (not that he can see as his eyes are practically watering now) and Nat turns to you with a glare.

You raise your hands up in surrender and in an attempt to help, you throw the nearest object on the floor across the room. Oh, that was your phone- well, okay. Either way, it helps, the man swings back in that direction, blasting his gun in the air and Nat takes the moment to attack him from behind.

She disarms him easily, taking him to the ground and placing him in handcuffs. She inspects the device carefully, flipping a switch and aiming it at the closest frozen person. With a bolt of light, they unfreeze and gasp for breath. Good, at least the idiot had created some sort of Ctrl-Shift Undo button.

You're part of the first few escorted out of the building considering you weren’t frozen or in hysterics and the paramedics look at you a little funny but wrap a shock blanket around your shoulders.

Yes, shock. That's what you were experiencing. Normal people things. You twist back and forth and watch the shock blanket sway as you wait for Nat to be done with her serious business. God, serious business was boring and took forever.

When she finally emerges from the building she ignores the press and police that come up to talk to her and heads straight for you. Ha! Eat shit losers.

She doesn’t bother with formalities, why would she? It's you. Instead, she hands you a small black box as she takes in the shock blanket you’ve tied around your neck to look like a cape.

“Here’s your phone” You take the object from her hands and inspect it.

Oh wow, No cracks, that's great. Wait- “This is not my phone” You turn it over and inspect the Stark logo on the back of it. Yeeeeah definitely not yours.

“No, it’s not” She doesn't bother lying to you at least, and you hum in acknowledgment. Well, you weren’t one to pass up a free upgrade. You pocket the phone and stick your hands in your front pockets, flashing her a smile

“So… you come around here often?” She rolls her eyes at your stupid attempt at a joke. Or flirting. Either one works.

“How do you keep ending up in these situations?”

It’s your turn to smirk “Maybe it’s just an excuse to see you?”

She gives you a look that says ‘It better not be’ and you just shrug, your shock blanket falling to the ground. Fucker. Making you look uncool. You refuse to bend down and pick it up. Recovery blankets were for losers anyway.

Still, she smiles at you anyway and crosses her arms “I’m beginning to think the only way to keep you safe is to keep you with me”

Your heart leaps but you pretend to be nonchalant. You're only blushing because of shock or whatever. Play it cool “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea” A stupid smile forces its way onto your face despite your best attempts to repress it and Nat laughs at your stubbornness.

“But first I think we’ve got to teach you some self-defense” She nods her head indicating for you to follow her and you both begin walking in step to an unmarked black car.

Kidnapper car.

Cameras are flashing around you and you think about how cool you’ll look with Lab goggles atop your head and white smoke in your hair on the news tomorrow morning. The media was going to love you.

Turning to Nat on your way to the car, you have a question that’s been itching at you that you feel the need to ask

“Do you think your sugar daddy can help me fix my bike?”

She punches you in the arm.

A/n: This was initially a writing exercise to write the silliest short story I could think of, but I thought it was cute so I decided to post it~ Starry

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shineonyoucrazyyandere · 3 months

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Hello!!

I'm a bit new to the asking game, but I have a headcanon request! What if the Stardust Crusaders met the daughter of DIO, who had a bright and extremely sweet personality with a stand who has techomagic abilities (able to create advance technology, extended knowledge in technology). I apologize if this doesn't make sense! This would be platonic btw!

— 🧠 Anon!

I think I have a grasp of what to write for this ask finally. Darling is still a child of DIO it’s just that makes my title even wordier than it already is. Decided to do one character per bullet point btw

Platonic! Yandere! Stardust Crusaders w/ a technomagic stand darling.

You’re likely a huge help on the technological/engineering side of things for the crusaders. If you met them right at the start of trying to find DIO. Your first observation is probably akin of “Mr. Joestar you know you probably don’t need to break that expensive camera to use your stand right?”. Before long you have it repaired and ready to go, Joseph is wildly impressed and is quickly endeared to you. There is at least also one instance of him asking about fiddling around with a vending machine (for science of course), to maybe get something a little extra.

Avdol can see the trouble coming with you and Mr. Joestar a mile a way. Your eagerness towards technology is commendable and a little worrying if you get too caught up. Which is pretty often, and Joseph tends to be an enabler when it comes to anything he finds cool. He personally loves it himself but does his best to be your guide. He’s the one to most likely sit next to you in whatever transportation you’re in, it’s almost stifling but you barely notice most likely as you keep yourself entertained. There is quite a few times he does let you “loose” to do your thing, just because he enjoys your company so much.

Kakyoin is a bit more reserved in his reactions, the biggest thing that lures him to you is how well you utilize your stand in much of the technology you all run into. If you happen to bring up games out of boredom, his interest is piqued as you likely explain how you fixed a perfectly good console that was thrown in the trash. You tell him some people just don’t understand there’s things worth saving and there’s usually a fix that perfectly restores it. His feelings deepen when you tell him you believe him with the Death 13 fight. His hands are almost shaking, (In this scenario he is very likely to become a romantic yandere pretty quickly)

Polnareff bounces off your personality pretty easily, likes asking you a ton of questions and you manage to answer just about every one of them. He’d just wish you would relax a little bit and enjoy the smallest bit of relaxation (as you can when getting constantly chased by enemy stand users). So he usually nudges you with some kind of treat or even just doing something casually where it doesn’t seem that your brain is running on full power constantly. There’s a dozen times he’s even carrying you up the stairs, you deserve it. You saved his skin so he certainly has to return the favor. (This Frenchman would also be likely to end up a romantic yandere)

Jotaro is one who comes in when things go a little too far, especially if gramps or Polnareff are going what he considers over board, so if he wants to be around you he will find a way to do so. Not that he doesn’t occasionally indulge your tinkering with a little thunk to something with either his strength or Star Platinum’s. He definitely tells you to go to bed when you’re up too late for his liking while on the trip. Don’t ask why or how he got in your room, or even ponder if he was outside of your door guarding you. He can handle himself even if he is a bit hypocritical with some advice. Speaking of he is quick to tell you to lower your use of your stand, keeping it hidden so no potential danger catches everyone off guard. Especially when you’ve helped him out with Wheel of Fortune and Strength. He does let some of his eccentricities out with you and the others when it feels reasonable. But he’s still keeping one eye open at all times when he can.

If anyone’s wondering if there’s any worry about you being the daughter of DIO, I’d like to think Avdol was the one to keep an eye on you for trustworthiness before anything happened. (Even if none of them knew you were his daughter).

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere jjba #yandere jjba imagines #yandere jjba x reader #yandere headcanons #jjba imagines #yandere avdol #yandere Polnareff #yandere jotaro #yandere Kakyoin #Yandere Joseph joestar #platonic yandere #- 🧠 Anon

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beans-in-soup · 19 days

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.PUDDLE.

—————————————————

Warnings: These little demons are too silly..silliness overboard (also some slight sexual innuendos/references)

Syno: Helluva cast and what they’d do if there was a puddle or wet spot infront of you while you were walking to your date…(this is so stupid..)

(Suffering with severe writers block rn but I managed to juice this out of me, bare with me yall!!)

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Moxxie:

Moxxie is a die hard gentleman, and I will stand by that. So he will totally be prepared for this occasion (like he was in the Loo Loo land episode with his little Fanny filled with meds for Via) He’d most likely whip out some sort of plastic or cardboard like walk way for you to step on..and he just like had that..on hand, meanwhile you’re saying things like…”I can just walk around it”, but please let him be cautious and spoil you, he loves being prepared for such drastic situations to get his partner away from danger..even if the danger is just getting your shoes wet. Afterwards he’ll ask if you are alright..as if walking over a puddle is traumatic or like it took a toll on you.

Blitzø:

Blitzø probably won’t care or even notice the puddle in the first place. In fact if he does notice it, he’ll purposely push you into it so your feet get all wet, especially if you’re trying to avoid it in the first place, then he’ll laugh at you and your pouty face. But if you’re actually upset about it and don’t start laughing with him he’ll definitely be like “What..you mad your shoes are wet?” Once he realizes you’re pretty pissed about it he’ll say “Ok ok..sorry.” And will then join you in the puddle and make sure his feet end up equally as soaked or even more so just so you aren’t mad at him the whole night.

Stolas:

Stolas will most definitely see the puddle and he’s all for keeping his partner out of harms way especially the smallest ounce of it, and he knows that appearance is everything and so is comfortability, he doesn’t want your feet to be wet and soppy therefore uncomfortable for you. So he’ll do the reasonable things and use his powers to make you float over it…like Stolas..really? He’s one that likes to one up, and he really loves to show off, especially to his partner. So he will use his magic for the smaller things just to impress you, that includes making you float over a puddle just so your precious feet stay dry and warm.

Fizzarolli:

Our little froggy will do what he does best and leap! You don’t think he’ll extend the both of you over a mere puddle then you are wrong, Fizz is the king of Drama, and he will be super dramatic about this whether you like it or not, He’ll extend the both of you over thoroughly and will look very badass while doing so. And he’ll even ask too “didn’t I look so cool.” Sure Fizzy, the coolest.

Asmodeus:

This big boy will not hesitate to pick you up into his arms, and he IS strong enough to do so, all while he walks into the puddle himself, but you know anything to make sure his sweetheart is alright, and no no, he won’t be setting you down afterwards, he’ll just carry you the whole way to the date just because he feels like it..and you know what you’re much safer up there with him anyways…so why would he let you down?

Striker:

This mf cowboy (“save a horse” iykwim) will not hesitate to pull some dramatics as well, he’ll whip out his little lasso from his side and wrap it around you throughly while he pulls you away from the puddle in the last moments before you even get the chance to step on it and he’ll draw you in to send you spinning (or more like falling) straight towards him and into his chest..he’ll hold you mighty close to him as he walks the both of you to your date and he will keep the lasso on you…just incase there’s anymore danger up ahead, or he’ll totally lay down his jacket for you over the puddle, just like an old school gentleman would do.

Mammon:

Mammon will definitely pull a Blitzø where he’ll purposely push you into it and will laugh at your reaction but on the other hand he won’t join you in your wet shoe’d state, he’d rather just laugh at you and say that you should audition for his pageant because watching you in dreadful situations is funny to him. He will be kind enough to dry your feet up at home/or even the restaurant, and he’ll make sure your feet are dry.

—girls—

Millie:

This precious lady will honestly want to get into the puddle with you just to splash around, it doesn’t matter that you have reservations that you’re already 20 minutes late for, she’ll dead stop and be like “Baby look a puddle!!” and you’ll understand her and begin to jump in it with her, she loves just doing childish things with you even if some people might find it gross. But! if you don’t like puddles and won’t jump in it with her she understands completely and will quite literally pick you up over her head and carry you over it…doesn’t matter if you are taller or bigger than her, she’ll carry you anytime, anywhere.

Loona:

She’s another one who will pull you into her closer so you aren’t near the puddle but instead near her. She doesn’t want your feet wet and will try to protect you or prevent you from going into it, just because she knows how annoying wet socks are, But don’t even try to mention she did it or she’ll go back/find another puddle to push you into….the shell feel bad and will lend you her socks..don’t mention that either.

Verosika:

Hehe..Verosika really loves you she does, and that’s why she has high expectations of you. One of them being that you’ll carry her through the puddle instead of her carrying you. So she’ll see the puddle, purposely get closer to it and pause when she’s a step away from it..she’ll look down roll her eyes and say something about her shoes,…take the hint [reader]! And if you do take the bait and carry her (if you can) well..she’ll give you Tenfold for treating her so nicely and will peck your cheek after..but don’t think you’re putting her down immediately after..the fun has just started.

Stella:

Hello..??? She’s royalty and is lowkey a little bratty (she need a brat tamer..I’m here for her😏) so she’ll obviously expect you to do something for her to get her out of this drastic situation, do you want her new heels to be ruined by mud? She doesn’t think so. So she’ll pause before the puddle and eye you to see what you’ll do, you can do anything and she’ll absolutely love it, pull her out of the way, lay your jacket on it, or even carry her and she will laugh and grin smugly, kissing you before continuing to walk with you again. She likes when you treat her nicely..she’ll do the same for you coming back that way at the end of the date.

——

Hello my loves! I’m trying to write your requests, thank you all for being patient and supportive I love you all and you deserve your asks to be answered, you beautiful people!!🫶🏼🫶🏼!!

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crossdressingdeath · 11 months

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Y'know, it's wild to me that Nico's ability to pass completely unnoticed until he deliberately draws attention to himself is basically just dismissed as him being "creepy". ...I'm not talking about the whole "the Seven really did completely dismiss a very traumatized fourteen year old's obvious and serious issues as him being creepy huh" thing this time, I promise.

My point is that Nico can with no apparent difficulty completely conceal his location from a ship full of extremely stressed demigods and none of them ever notice he's there until he wants them to. A lot of attention is brought to how demigods are basically made for combat, and the Seven do kind of see Nico as an antagonistic presence (despite him never being a threat to them at any point- sorry, that's it, I promise); you'd expect their instincts to be honed to pick up on his presence! Especially with how often he's referred to as radiating death energy; that's the sort of thing you'd expect people to be aware of. But Nico can just... vanish. He can even vanish in pretty small and crowded spaces: the Argo II's a sizable vessel (200 feet long according to the wiki), it's possible that the Seven not generally having any idea where exactly on the ship Nico is just comes from it being a big space with very few people in it for its size, but the mess hall can't be all that big on its own considering everything else aboard the ship and Nico manages to go completely unnoticed in there while everyone else is also in the room until he deliberately calls attention to himself. That's a hell of a trick! And also might help explain how an untrained son of Hades managed to survive on his own for however long it took for Minos to track him down (and/or possibly how long it took him to find his father, since we don't actually know how he learned to control his powers); if his knack for staying hidden from people extends to monsters he'd have a huge advantage in terms of survival, and if he can hide from demigods he can absolutely hide from mortals, which would allow him to steal anything he needed to survive on the streets. And we know it can extend to very powerful beings, since back in TLO he heads to Mount Othrys and spies on the Titans with no evidence that they ever knew he was hiding close enough to them for him to watch and listen to what they were doing. But no one ever talks about his ability to hide himself so completely that the only time we've ever seen him get caught was in Tartarus (which is Tartarus, and doesn't follow the standard rules), and when his skill at concealment comes up people just call it creepy. That's actually a really impressive skill!

...Also I now want many many spy and/or assassin AUs featuring Nico's ability to easily conceal himself (and when in plain sight somehow managing to be beneath suspicion despite no one liking him, the fact that he gets away with going to Camp Jupiter with the only explanation being "Uhhhhhhhh, I'm an ambassador from Pluto" and no one seems to have seriously questioned that even though none of them like or particularly trust him is also something that I feel should get more attention).

#riordanverse #heroes of olympus #nico di angelo #still convinced it's some sort of hades power by the way

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autistichalsin · 5 months

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This is something between a headcanon, a fic idea, and a ficlet, but...

Summary: The Tadfools have realized something about Halsin- something even Halsin himself didn't know. Wyll gets volun-told to talk to him.

Halsin had grown up in a community of wood elves. And of course, this community of his was far from perfect, but it was his, and it was all he knew.

They were also very close to the local Druidic circles, and so no one was surprised when he expressed an early interest in joining them. As a show of goodwill/recruitment strategy, the local Archdruid offered little lessons to young children, showing them how they might manipulate their wildshape. As children, few of them managed; it was considered impressive (and adorable, to boot) if a child accomplished cat ears and a tail. Halsin managed this, proudly showing his parents his little ears the day of his first lesson.

The second lesson, he turned into a bear, to the bafflement of everyone- except his parents, who took aside the Archdruid for a quiet word.

Somehow, even though he could transform into the bear any time he wanted- and many times he didn't want to, at that- it would be a few more years before he could transform into anything else, only managing the partial transformations his peers had. In spite of this, the Archdruid seemed so faithful that he had great power within him; all the more so when Halsin spoke to him of his mysterious companion, a nature spirit who wouldn't reveal himself to any others.

No one said anything about Halsin's mysterious affinity for bears, and he thought nothing of it. He was kept too distracted with lessons to notice any patterns to it, whether those were triggers, or timing of his transformations.

it was just a part of him, and it stayed that way as he grew older, became an initiate, and mastered his wildshape faster than any of his peers- aside from lacking control over his bear. When he became a proper Druid, too, no one had anything to say.

It changed when he became Archdruid- people began to remark on how strange, and worrisome, it was for an Archdruid to lack control of himself. But there was little anyone could do about it, when the numbers of Druids had fallen so critically low. Even after a century, they had simply not recovered. It wasn't common for shorter-lived species to become Druids, and of course, the longer-lived ones weren't born as often. They'd simply have to wait for their numbers to replenish like a forest regrowing saplings after a wildfire.

So, really, Halsin couldn't be blamed for not knowing. It had always been treated as just a strange quirk of his, and though he had heard a certain word a few times in his studies, no one had ever given any indication it had applied to him. It was a word for others, not himself.

But then came Tav and their tadpoled companions, and with them came a remarkable amount of both insight and bluntness where their lives were concerned. Naturally, that extended to Halsin.

When he saw them approaching him, Wyll opening his mouth with a look that made it clear he'd lost an argument about who would have to speak- never a good sign- Halsin tensed reflexively, knowing he wasn't going to like what came next.

Sure enough, he didn't, as Wyll asked something completely illogical. "Halsin, were you going to ever... tell us what you are?" he asked, in a tone that made it clear they were all less than happy. "We don't judge you, of course- Astarion's a vampire! But we needed to know so we could prepare ourselves!"

Halsin stared, dumbfounded. "Prepare yourselves for what?" he asked, staring at them, more confused than he ever had been.

"... You truly don't know?" Wyll asked, sitting next to him. "How could you not? You even told us you couldn't control the bear!"

"Well, I cannot always," Halsin admitted, cheeks coloring a bit from embarrassment. Hells. When was the last time he had blushed? "As I said, sometimes, when blood runs hot-"

"-But we aren't talking about blood running hot, though, that probably is related," Wyll said patiently. "Halsin, last night was a full moon. Surely... surely you have some idea what you did? Even though you wouldn't remember directly, surely someone else told you before?"

Halsin shook his head. "Enlighten me," he requested, swallowing hard.

"... You really don't know," Wyll said again, rubbing his forehead. "Hells. Ah... You... transformed. Into a bear. None of us were hurt, but it was quite difficult to calm you. I know that generally, werebears don't remember what you d-"

"-Werebear?!" Halsin repeated, stunned. He shook his head, laughing. "My friend, I am not a were. I simply have hot blood running in my veins, and... well, little other outlet for my emotions, which love to make themselves known when they have been caged for too long."

"... Right." Wyll spoke slowly, disbelievingly. "... Halsin. You are an intelligent man. You know many other Druids, some of which with passions much more intense than your own. No other Druid struggles so. It is just you. It doesn't mean there is anything wrong with you! But if we hadn't been able to calm you- if you weren't happier as a bear than as an elf- one of us might have been hurt."

"I would never have attacked you, my friend." The mere implication stung, and Halsin's voice reflected that fact. "And I would not say I am happier as a bear. Merely... more like myself."

Wyll's grimace certainly didn't help, and Halsin groaned, rubbing his eyebrow in irritation. "My friend, I assure you, it is a mere coincidence. I have been like this since I was a child; my mother and father would have had no reason to keep this from me. It is simply another uncommon trait I possess, like my size." He looked down at his hands, flexing them.

"... Halsin." Wyll inhaled sharply. "I did not know your parents, so I cannot say what they thought, what they did, or why. I can simply tell you what we see. We see a man who, despite being an extraordinarily powerful Circle of the Moon druid, cannot control his actions in bear wildshape- but only in bear form, still capable of controlling himself in all others. We see a man who cannot control his transformations, either, when overcome with emotions. We see a man who speaks of his bear form as though it was a separate entity from himself. And we see a man who transformed at the full moon, with no memory of having done so." Wyll gazed down at the ground. "I enjoy a good gambling game every now and again, but even I would not bet on this being anything else, Halsin."

Halsin fell silent, and Wyll looked guilty now. "It does not change anything, you know, about who you... are." He reached up, touching his horns self-consciously. "You are still yourself, just as you were... a half an hour ago, before you knew any of this. This simply... lets you know so you may make the first step to controlling your wild side."

Halsin opened his mouth, but no sound came. He was staring into the fire, suddenly unsure, suddenly reliving his entire life through a new lens. It couldn't be... but Wyll was making a frightening amount of sense.

He just couldn't understand why. Why this was so. Why this had been kept from him. Why he had only discovered it now, and why it had taken this group of people to reveal it to him.

Fear and betrayal and something else he couldn't identify rose inside him. Before he was aware of it happening, much less able to stop it, his eyes flashed yellow, his body was engulfed in golden light, and his cave bear stood where the elf just had been.

Halsin could have changed back. He decided he didn't want to.

Instead, he let out a sad little noise, inched forward, and rested his big, fluffy head in Wyll's lap.

"... Okay. Okay. Cuddling. I can do that," Wyll muttered, petting Halsin's snout. "Look... sometimes parents make mistakes when they want to protect you. I mean, hells, you probably know that already, you're way older than me... but sometimes we need reminding. They were just trying to protect you, I think, but... sometimes, our attempts to help the ones we love hurt them more instead."

Halsin let out a little huff, and reached out a paw, gently patting Wyll's horns. Wyll nodded. "Precisely," he said, taking Halsin's paw in his hands. "So... look. I can't imagine it's fun to be you right now, realizing all this after 350 years and everything, but... Well. You were way too normal for our group anyway, my friend. You had to be more of a misfit to fit in with our group of misfits, see?" He laughed a little, and was rewarded with another huff of air, this one a little lighter, and what he swore was a smile. "Chin up, Halsin. We're here for you, like you have been for us, okay? And... don't... If this form makes you feel safer, you don't need to turn back any time soon. Not until you're ready."

Another bear-smile, and Halsin pressed closer, burying his face. Wyll smiled too. "You're welcome, my friend. You'd do the same for any of us."

#halsin #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #wyll #wyll ravengard #fic

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yourlocaldisneyvillain · 9 months

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...the dawn of ♥ kink!week ♥ is upon us...

(don't know what kink week is? click here!)

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

∼ those faint of heart, look away and shield thine eyes — miserable sinners, prepare; for we have entered the unholy week ∼

∼ day one brings us our beloved metallic lady ♥ Jane Murdstone ♥ ∼

∼ tags and the fic are under the cut ∼

♥ i've worked very hard on this series — it was a huge project to undertake and i would very much appreciate if you left me comments with your thoughts and impressions — you already know they make my heart sing ♥ (AO3 link — i prefer it to tumblr vastly)

tags: #alternate universe - modern setting #dominatrix #bdsm #bladder control #watersports #piss kink #mistress/slave #dom/sub play #fetish clothing #leather gloves #face slapping #degradation kink #humiliation #golden shower #masturbation #aftercare #kink!week

don't look away (as i bare my soul to you) (clicking on the title will lead you to ao3)

You will always remember the night you met her.

You were attending a house party organised by one of your good friends — very much a social butterfly, unlike yourself — and you weren't surprised there were all sorts of interesting people there, and that one of them just happened to be the tallest, most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen.

You could tell she was exceptionally bored as she sat on the couch alone, long legs crossed, typing on her phone and absentmindedly sipping her wine. You probably stared at her for a full minute, just awkwardly hanging by the door with your own drink, taken by her commanding presence and how stunning she looked just in her casual black slacks and blouse that was unbuttoned just enough that you could almost see her bra if you angled your head the right way.

You surely would have stared much longer had she not lifted her gaze and raised her eyebrow at you. You immediately felt your cheeks burn and your palms sweat, embarrassment overwhelming you, as if you’ve been caught doing something terribly wrong. You opened your mouth, wanting to say something, but you didn’t know what could be said after so rudely staring at someone, so you turned to leave.

What stopped you from fleeing in shame, with your tail between your legs, was that she smirked and gestured you to join her, tapping a spot next to her on the couch. You immediately obeyed. No other option even crossed your mind — something about this woman drew you in.

“Jane Murdstone,” she said with a delicious, velvety English accent, extending her arm towards you as you sat next to her. You noticed how piercingly blue her eyes are.

“My palms are sweaty,” you said stupidly, looking at her with your mouth slightly agape, feeling as if you were in the presence of a goddess.

“Then wipe them on your trousers,” she said calmly, cocking her head. The corner of her lips barely perceptibly curled upwards.

You wiped your palms on your trousers and went on to shake her hand. You immediately noticed how big it is compared to yours, and you didn’t know why it flustered you so much. She gave you a firm squeeze and lingered a second longer than necessary.

“Will I get a name, or just reports on the state of your palms?” she asked.

You stuttered while telling her your name, but she didn’t comment on it.

“Do I have something on my face?” she just asked, leaning back into the couch and swinging her arm over the headrest.

“Why?” you asked back, confused.

“You stared at me for a full minute,” she answered, smirking, and took a sip of her wine. She never once broke eye contact with you — it made you squirmy, but you couldn’t look away, as if under a spell. You felt as if she was looking at your very soul — bare and unprotected and vulnerable.

“I—I’m sorry, I just thought… I just thought you were beautiful,” you managed to utter.

“Did you, now?” she asked, looking very amused .

You nodded.

“Well, thank you. But don’t you know it’s quite rude to stare?”

That finally made you avert your gaze in shame. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh, don’t worry — I like making people flustered. I’m having a lot of fun right now.”

You looked up at her again. She was staring at you with that piercing gaze that made you feel completely naked, her blue eyes twinkling in amusement. “And what do you do for fun?” she asked.

Oh, you were completely enraptured by her.

You spent the entire evening talking about everything and nothing. You were surprised how comfortable you felt with her, despite her commanding presence — or maybe because of it. She never paid any attention to you stuttering, nor your blushing — she just sat there and waited until she got an answer to a question she asked. It made it hard to avoid talking about yourself — and oh, it felt so good to talk about yourself for once.

At one point you asked her what she did for work — and then choked on your drink when you heard the answer. It surprised you, even though her commanding presence could have been an inkling — but she just looked so normal, with her dark brown hair in a loose bun, her tasteful and minimal makeup, and her slacks, blouse and pumps that made her look like a businesswoman on her evening off.

“A dominatrix? That’s really cool,” you said, blushing, “I just didn’t expect it. Don’t get me wrong, but you just look very normal.”

She raised an eyebrow and took a sip of her wine. “Oh, and what did you expect? Latex? Or leather?”

You felt very silly because that is exactly what you expected. “Sorry, I just… I just never met a dominatrix before.”

“So, not familiar with that world, I presume?”

“Not really. But, I mean… I’m… interested. I mean, not interested interested, don’t get me wrong. I just, you know, had like, thoughts, and I’d never actually do it, but I think about, I mean not think about, just like… I wonder sometimes, you know, like what it’d be like, like, none of the hardcore stuff, but just, you know—”

She interrupted your pathetic rambling. “Would you want to try it?”

You froze. “What?”

“Would you want to try it?” she repeated. Her expression was completely calm and neutral, as if she just asked you about your favourite colour.

“I—I—I mean, that would make no sense. I was always… I’m boring. I just go to my job and then I go home. It couldn’t be into something like that, like, it’d be so out of character and it… it just makes no sense that I would, you know, be like…. into it,” you fumbled.

“I didn’t ask you if it would make sense. I asked if you’d like to try it.”

You spent the next couple of seconds just staring at her, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. She just sat there in silence, calmly sipping her wine, waiting for you to answer.

And finally, you did.

“Yes.”

You glance at the clock.

It’s 12pm — another five hours until the end of your work day, and you already can’t focus on anything else besides the pain in your bladder.

You press your thighs together — you can do this.

You take in a deep breath before turning your attention to the pile of paperwork laying on your desk — mocking you and waiting for you to go through it. And you will — you must. It has to be done by the end of the day. You won’t let yourself get fired — you’ll push through.

You wouldn’t want to disappoint your Mistress, after all.

Jane has been your Mistress for about six months now, and slowly you are starting to venture into kinks you never thought you’d admit being interested in — to anyone — ever. You were fully prepared to take those with you to the grave.

Truth be told, you once thought the same about trying out a BDSM lifestyle, and then… well. Then you sort of stumbled into it — and now it’s something you do on a Monday afternoon after working hours.

Or, in this case, during working hours.

Your belly tingles with excitement just thinking about it — no one knows you’re engaging in a sexual fantasy of yours right now.

You clench your thighs together again — both to help with the fact that you really need to pee right now and to give provide some friction. You know, however, that you absolutely cannot touch yourself, nor go to the bathroom — not until 6pm today, when your scheduled session takes place.

You smile and start sorting through the paperwork in front of you. You’re giddy with anticipation.

6pm can’t come soon enough.

You can barely stand when you get to her apartment and ring the doorbell. Your bladder hurts — you don’t think you can hold it in much longer.

She opens the door in a black, silken night-robe. Her long hair is loose and fluffy around her shoulders, she isn’t wearing any makeup, and she’s barefoot. She seems to be naked underneath the robe. It’s unusual — she normally puts on something more fitting for her role. however, you still think she looks gorgeous — perhaps even more so than usual.

She eyes you up and down. “Come in,” she says, face impassive, then turns around and walks towards the playroom. “Coat, bag, shoes,” she commands, not bothering to turn around or look at you as she disappears into the room on the right.

You quickly hang your coat and bag and take your shoes off before you follow her, pressing your thighs together and clenching your pelvic muscles as hard as you can.

She waits for you in the playroom, sitting on the big couch next to the window. She gestures for you to stand in the middle of the room.

“Stand here and don’t move. You’ll watch me get dressed. When I’m done, you can go to the bathroom.”

As much as the thought excites you, you don’t think you can last even another ten minutes.

“But, Mistress, I… I don’t think I can hold it in much longer. It’s been an entire day.”

“Well,” she says, tilting her head. She watches you squirm from the couch, lips curling in amusement. “If you can’t make it, you’ll just have to go right here.”

“R-right here?” you repeat. You can feel your cheeks starting to burn. “But… I can’t.”

“Well, if you can’t then you won’t,” she simply says and gets up from the couch. She walks towards the little vanity in the corner of the room and stars sorting through her makeup. “And if you can, you are welcome to. However — you don’t get to use the bathroom until I’m done.” She sits down on the little chair and starts applying moisturiser on her face.

“But—but—” you start, but she interrupts you.

“You will not give me attitude, or there will be consequences,” she says, looking at you through the mirror. The tone of her voice sends a shiver down your spine — cold, uncompromising, and so fucking hot.

“Yes, Mistress,” you say and your voice sounds squeakier than you intended.

“Poor little thing — always so flustered around me,” she coos while dabbing concealer under her eyes, saccharine condescension oozing from her voice. “You just need to be stepped on, don’t you? You need someone to tell you what to do and when to do it — even your bodily functions. Can’t even do that yourself.”

“No, Mistress,” you say, shuffling on your feet, pressing your thighs together. Your bladder really hurts.

“Stop squirming,” she says, dusting eyeshadow on her lids and glancing at you in the mirror. “You have one very simple task and it is to stand still. Or are you too incompetent even for that?”

“It really hurts, Mistress. May I sit down?” you ask.

“No.”

You try your best not to squirm. You press your thighs together as tightly as you can, trying to take deep breaths to soothe yourself and breathe through the pain. You somehow manage to zone out — you watch her do her makeup, as if in a trance, and you’re proud of yourself for doing rather well. You make it through powder, mascara, blush, eyeliner and lipstick, and before you know it, she’s done. She fluffs out her hair and checks her makeup in the mirror, and then she gets up and turns to look at you.

“You’re doing well,” she says. “A bit too well. Is this too easy, hm?” she asks, approaching you.

“No, Mistress.”

She stands in front of you — and fuck, she’s so tall. It makes you feel all fuzzy and tingly inside.

“Oh, I disagree,” she says. She throws the robe off of herself, revealing that she is, indeed, naked underneath. You mouth waters. “You’ll help me get into my corset.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She turns and walks towards the couch. Her ass and thighs jiggle as she walks. You lick your lips, and your belly tingles — you hope she lets you touch her today. You’d love to worship her.

Laying on the couch, you only now realise, is the outfit she picked for herself for today — a black corset, a leather harness, black stockings, and — your favourite — black leather gloves. Black heels are on the floor next to it. You see no panties of any kind, which is a bit unusual, but not unwelcome.

She takes the gloves first. She makes eye contact with you as she slowly puts them on, taking her time, wiggling her fingers and clenching her fist after she slides each of them on — and it’s so hot you almost forget abut the burning pain in your bladder. Your mouth gapes open and your heart beats faster.

“Close your mouth,” she says sternly before she moves on to the stockings, and you immediately obey.

She puts one long leg on the couch and slides the stocking on — painfully slowly — then does the same with the other one. You lick your lips and squirm again. “Don’t. Squirm,” she commands.

“Sorry, Mistress.”

She slides her feet into black heels, then grabs the corset before she slowly walks to you, swaying her hips. Her breasts bounce as she moves and you can’t help but stare. She’s even taller now with the heels on, and it makes you giddy. You feel so tiny next to her.

As soon as she reaches you, she slaps you across the face — hard. You gasp.

“You can’t even follow simple directions — stand still and keep your mouth closed. How many times to I need to say it, hm?” she says and grabs your jaw with her gloved hand. She presses her fingers into your cheeks so hard it hurts. “Answer me.”

“I—I’m sorry, Mistress, it won’t happen again,” you utter, eyes wide, chest slightly heaving. You have to crane your neck so far back to meet her gaze — you love it.

She lets go of your jaw, and then immediately slaps you again, making you suck in a sharp breath.

“How is your bladder?” she asks as she wraps the corset she’s holding around her torso. It’s already buckled in the front, but the laces on the back are loose.

“It hurts, Mistress.”

“Poor thing,” she says, her face stony, as she pokes your belly with her finger. You tense your muscles and clench your thighs together.

“Please, Mistress — it hurts,” you say. You’re doing so well — but if she does that again, you know you won’t be able to hold it in.

“Does it now?” she asks condescendingly.

“Yes, Mistress.”

She simply chuckles.

“Tie this. Make it tight.”

She turns around, holding the corset pressed to her stomach, and you immediately start working on the laces. The pain in your bladder is becoming worse by the minute, especially after her poking it. You can barely concentrate on your task, but somehow you manage to push through.

She turns back around to face you. “Only the harness left. Do you think you can make it?”

She reaches inside the corset to adjust her breasts. Your gaze wanders towards them. You bite your lip as you watch her gloved hand fondle her breast, cupping it and pushing upwards. “Eyes up.”

You look up. The intensity with which she looks at you makes you shiver — it always does. With her, you always feel like you’ve nowhere to hide. It’s like she can see inside your soul, like she truly sees you — pathetic and shivering and naked — and she never averts her eyes.

“I can make it, Mistress.”

“Are you quite sure?” she asks, and her blue eyes twinkle, but her face is otherwise unreadable.

“I think so, Mistress.”

It hurts — badly — but you don’t want to give up now that you’re so close to making it.

“Wait here,” she says and walks out of the room. You watch her ass wiggle and her hips sway as she leaves.

The moment she exits the room, you squirm and press your thighs together as hard as you can. You don’t know how to feel — on one hand, it would be really hot if she made you pee your pants, and on the other, you don’t think you could handle the shame you’d feel. You like humiliation — but this? You’ve never done something like this before. You decide you’ll try your best to hold it in until she lets you go to the bathroom.

She returns quickly, carrying a big water bottle. She hands it to you. Your heart sinks into your stomach.

“Drink,” she says. “All of it.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

You start drinking, and she watches. It’s a big bottle, and you aren’t sure you can drink it all. You can feel your belly filling with water, and the pressure in your bladder is unbearable. You try to lower the bottle, pace yourself, but she tilts it and pushes it into your mouth.

“I said, all of it.”

She reaches under your shirt and grabs your hips. You’re still drinking. She gentle runs her gloved hands over your stomach — lightly, teasingly — then under your bra. You continue drinking until you finish the bottle as she fondles you, sending tingles down your spine.

“All done?” she asks, running her fingers over your ribs.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Give it to me.”

She takes the bottle and puts it on the little table next to the couch, then returns to you.

“You must be so uncomfortable,” she says, sliding her hands under your shirt again, putting one on the small of your back and the other on your bloated belly.

“Yes, Mistress.” You’re sure you can’t make it at this point. “How long… until I can go to the bathroom, Mistress?” you ask.

She gently massages your belly and you whimper. “Oh, but you could go right now, and it would all stop.”

“But I can’t, I’m too embarrassed.”

“And what if I commanded you to go, hm? You wouldn’t disobey me, would you?” she asks, circling around you as she caresses your stomach, until she’s behind you and pressing her body into yours. She leans down and you feel her hot breath on your ear. You whimper.

“I can’t, Mistress, please, I—”

She grabs your neck from behind you, her gloved hand pressing against your windpipe. “Do not give me attitude.”

Suddenly, she grabs your hips and presses her fingers into your pelvis. You gasp and your muscles give in — and the next thing you know warm liquid is trickling down your thigh. Horrified, you watch a dark, wet spot form on your trousers.

Jane lets go of your waist and walks to stand in front of you as you continue to stare at your crotch, deep shame colouring your cheeks red. You can’t help but gasp in relief as the painful pressure bladder finally subsides, which makes you even more embarrassed. You hide your face into your hands and press your thighs together. It just keeps going — you have’t peed all day. You feel it trickle down your calves and onto your feet until it pools on the floor. Tears of shame prickle in your eyes.

“Look at me,” Jane says. You slowly lower your hands and clutch your shirt, breathing deeply and trying not to cry. You look at her. She’s standing a few feet away from you, watching you, her gaze as intense as ever. “Don’t avert your eyes.”

You watch her, tears streaming down your face, your underwear, your trousers and your socks uncomfortably wet, as she walks towards the couch and takes the harness. She puts it on, but it takes a while. You just stand there — embarrassed, blushing, crying and wet.

You aren’t wet just from your own piss, however.

Something about the humiliation makes you incredibly aroused, and Jane knows it — oh, she knows it well. She knew it from the first night you talked — you didn’t even have to tell her — and she pushes you, always pushes you just a bit further than the last time.

She walks back towards you, now clad in the elaborate harness that hugs her neck, her waist, her arms and her thighs, black leather belts crisscrossing. She looks like your dirtiest fantasy.

“Kneel,” she says.

You kneel into the puddle of your own piss, wetting your trousers even further.

You look up at her. As she isn’t wearing any underwear, your gaze wanders to her pussy — it looks pink and delicious and absolutely delectable. You wonder if she’s command you to eat her out, and you shiver in anticipation, heat pooling in your belly.

She lifts her leg and puts her heeled foot onto your shoulder. “Since you’re already so filthy,” she says, “it’ll make no difference if you’re even filthier.”

You stare at her pink, slick folds and your mouth waters. “Tilt your head back. Look me in the eyes,” she says. You do as you’re told and you meet her gaze. She watches you, her lips parted and her eyes dark with lust.

You gasp when warm liquid hits your chest. You feel her piss slowly wet your shirt and your bra and drip down your stomach into your underwear. She keeps eye contact the entire time. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she says. “Filthy girl.”

“Yes, Mistress,” you whimper, cheeks red, chest heaving.

“Nasty, dirty girl,” she says, her voice deep and thick with lust. “I bet your pussy is all wet, hm?”

“Yes, Mistress,” you breathe out. She looks like a goddess, looking down upon you. Your mind feels fuzzy and you feel as light as a feather. You’d do anything she asked of you right now. You just want to serve her.

She removes her foot from your shoulder, and you barely notice that the heel dug into your flesh — you only feel a sort of a euphoria.

“Stay on the floor and touch yourself. You can come.”

“Yes, Mistress,” you say and immediately slip your hand into your soaked underwear.

“Sit down, ass on the floor.”

You do as she tells you and sit down in the puddle of piss. Your trousers immediately soak through on your ass, but you don’t care.

She looks down on you as you start rubbing your clit. “Look at you. Nasty girl. You like sitting in your own filth, hm?”

“Yes, Mistress,” you moan, rubbing your clit faster.

“No wonder you need me to guide you. You can’t do anything yourself except rub your pussy like a bitch in heat.”

“Yes, Mistress,” you whine. You’re already getting close. “Ah, Mistress, you’re so good to me.”

“I’m too good to you. Nasty girls such as yourself only deserve a firm hand.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whimper. You slip your fingers inside of your dripping cunt and start pumping your them in and out — but your trousers are in the way, and you quickly unzip them and pull them down your thighs along with your underwear, and you’re now sitting bare in a pool of piss. You spread your legs as far as you can as you continue to fuck yourself, hitting your clit with your palm every time you pump your fingers into your aching pussy.

“Look at you — so desperate. I don’t even have to touch you for you to fall apart. Such a dirty fucking slut.”

“Ah — yes, yes, Mistress,” you whine. You’re so close.

“Look me in the eyes when you come. I want you to know who you belong to — every orgasm you have is mine, do you understand?”

“Y-yes, Mistress, ah—” you breathe out as your eyes meet her icy blue ones.

“Come for me,” she says, her voice cold and stern and uncompromising as she watches you, her gaze baring your soul. You are unable to hide from her — she is witnessing you at your lowest, in a puddle of piss rutting against your hand like an animal, and yet she never averts her gaze. She disarms you, renders you unable to do anything other than obey. You belong to her.

And you love it.

You keep eye contact as your orgasm washes over you, fast and hard and intense. For you, for you, it’s for you, you think as ecstasy overwhelms you and the only thing you’re aware of are her blue eyes, watching you, judging you and absolving you at the same time. You keep fucking yourself through the aftershocks, mumbling, “I’m yours, Mistress, it’s for you,” as you slowly come down from your high, unsure if anything you say is intelligible.

She is silent — she waits for you to come to your senses.

A wave of shame hits you as soon as the orgasmic euphoria is gone. Tears pool in your eyes and fall down your cheeks. You want to hide your face in your hands or your shirt, but you’re covered in piss and it disgusts you. “I’m disgusting,” you cry, tears blurring your vision. You can’t look her in the eye.

“You aren’t,” she says as she takes off her gloves, and you want to believe her, but you can’t.

You cry and you cry, and she helps you clean up. You shower together, and she wordlessly holds you while you cry, and then helps you put on clean spare clothes that you keep at her place for occasions such as this one. You cry some more, and she caresses your hair and lets you cling to her.

She isn’t a very gentle woman — you learned that quickly — but there is something about her presence that comforts you. You feel safe around her. She says few words, but they are picked carefully — and she won’t argue with the mean voices in your head. She says what she means exactly once.

“I’m glad you trusted me with this,” she says as she bids you goodbye at the door. You say nothing — you just hug her. She tenses up, not expecting it, but then she relaxes and hugs you tighter. She smells like citrus shower gel, and you know you do too. You look forward to lying in your bed tonight smelling like her.

“See you next week, Jane,” you murmur into her chest. She pulls back and kisses your forehead — a rare show of affection.

“Take care,” she says.

As you walk back home, you feel pleasantly light.

taglist (let me know if you want to be added or removed!): @opheliauniverse @dumbasslesbi @bychrissi @scream-queenlover @muffintopxs @bigolgay @gwenslucifer @weemswife @zephyr-is-tired @yourhauntedhead @carnivorousflowers @i-have-insane-that-i-am-paper @softshrimpy @willowshadenox @syrenacrainn @weemssapphic @dianneking @imprincipalweemspet @kimiinou @ninelesbien @i-love-nerdy-stuff @eveymay @myzzjolanda @pluied-ete @brienneswife @gwenzone @principal-weems09 @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu @gela123 @emilynissangtr @gwendolinechristieiscute @h-doodles @winterfireblond @alexusonfire @larissaoftarthweems @a-queen-and-her-throne @bikergurl5 @salems-spaghettios @theflashesoflove @catechristiesstuff @vendocrap8008 @billiedeansbitch @coffeemelko @lilfartbox1 @softshrimpy @amateurwritescm @daydream-cement @kaymariesworld

#kink!week #7 days of kink #jane murdstone #jane murdstone x reader #i will produce my own garbage and also consume it #gwendoline christie

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harrieatthemet · 1 year

Text

Pantry

In which Harry invents ‘fun day’ and Angel Baby tries to keep a secret.

You were very clear. At least you thought you were.

“Absolutely no more skipping school” and you stood your ground, despite the two sullen faces looking at back at you, “understand?”

The only thing you hate more than being the bad cop: being out of the loop. Which is exactly the position you found yourself in three weeks ago, twice, when Harry kept angel baby home from school for ‘fun day’. And ‘fun day’ typically leads to the principal phoning your cell to ask if she’s sick. She must be, since she’s out of school. And what you hate more than being out of the loop and being the tough parent is having to lie.

“Was fo’ a fun day,” he pleaded his case for hours afterwards, “and I was missing her so bad!”

“If you let her skip again, she’s gonna be the only one having any fun” and really you thought this threat would be enough, “your right hand isn’t as fun as my mouth.”

The look of fear in his eye, an exasperated reaction to the indefinite absence of blowjobs, gave you the impression that he’d put a pause on ‘fun day’ for a while. Which is exactly what he needed you to think. He’d even laid on a little extra moping last night; pouting about how ‘unfair’ it was that he was only home for three days and had to wait until school was over. Disneyland was in the cards all along, which was likely why he pushed you to enjoy your day with friends for ‘as long as you want’.

Clearly you were too quick to jump to conclusions. There was gonna be a ‘fun day’ whether you wanted it or not, and your friends have the photos to prove it.

“Harry’s such a good dad,” one of them gushes, phone attached to her hand, “he was definitely meant to have a little girl.”

You nod in agreement before swallowing a mouthful of iced tea, smiling when the rest of your friends glance at the phone and coo in unison. He is very good with her; very invested and attentive. And definitely meant to be a girl dad, you agree; he’s never shied away from wearing tutus or sloppy blue eyeshadow out of the house. You wait for your turn to gawk at the phone proudly, eager to see whatever article is praising Harry as dad of the year.

“Look at the second one,” your other friend chirps, “he’s having more fun than she is. (Y/N) look how cute these are!”

She extends her arm across the table with the phone in tow as she eagerly waits for you two swoon like they are.

Angel baby’s clad head to toe in Disney swag; the ears on her head are sandwiched between two braids, a light up balloon in one hand and Harry’s hand in her other. You’re looking at her colorful butterfly face paint before you notice her shoes; brand new Gucci ballet flats. The same ones Harry brought home from London yesterday and the same ones she wore this morning. For the first time.

“Fucking fun day.” You’re muttering as you tuck a few things away in your purse.

He was a little too keen on driving her to school this morning; a little too insistent you needed an afternoon out with friends. He was a little too excited to get you out of the house altogether. Harry’s a lot of things; a man of empathy being one of them. He wants to take care of everyone all the time and it’s admirable. But he’s also a sneaky son of a bitch, which is exactly all you manage to digress to your friends before excusing yourself from lunch.

It’s not like he wanted to lie. He didn’t want to be sneaky. If anything, it’s really your own fault. Had you jumped on the ‘fun day’ bandwagon he could’ve gotten tickets for three instead of two. You’re a ‘fun day hater’, he tells angel baby, so there was no other choice but to withhold his plans. So he needed to make sure that you were properly distracted, which meant being a little bit sneaky and swearing angel baby to complete secrecy. Which she was fine with; that little girl is a vault and whatever Harry tells her, he knows she’s good on keeping it locked away.

Not that it mattered because he beat you home. He’s smug when he pulls into the driveway. Your cars absent which reassures him he’s just that good. He’s about ready to relish in the victory when he shuts the front door behind him. And as he readies himself to ask angel baby if she enjoyed her day whilst following her into the kitchen, he hears it; the shutting of a car door.

How naive of him to think he had at least another hour; both him and angel baby lock widened eyes across the kitchen counter. He knows your’re about a handful of seconds away from hitting that front door and he becomes royally screwed. It’s not nearly enough time for angel baby to get upstairs; she can’t move those little legs that fast. A quick sweep across the room is all it takes for him before he lands on the door to the pantry, then glances back at the wide eyed toddler right across from him.

“Oi,” he scurries to her side of the kitchen, scooping her up and fast-pacing it to the door, “m’gonna hide y’from mummy, okay peach?”

This is somewhat amusing to her. Angel baby is just that; an angel. She knows she’d never catch any heat for this. Harry’s gonna fall on that sword like always, she’s just along for the ride. That’s why she lets one of those amused belly laughs out after catching the panicked look scribbled all over his face. When he puts her down before handing her a snack from one of the shelves to keep her occupied, she can’t help but giggle again.

“Just fo’ a minute, okay?” And he’s trying to shove in all the fucking toys he impulse bought as gently as possible, “Can y’be super quiet f’daddy?”

She’s giggling at how frantic he is, “you’re in troubleeee”

“Course not,” he whispers, backing out of the door before mumbling under his breath, “not yet, anyways.”

He refuses to close it all the way; instead just encouraging her to sit quietly underneath one of the shelves. It does dawn on him to pile up a few bags of chips to better fuse her in with the abundance of snacks, but he doesn’t have time. He can hear you call his name out from the hall before you spawn a few feet away from him.

“Helloooooo there,” it’s obvious in his tone that he’s up to something, “y’home a bit early.”

“I am,” and you’re onto him, he can see it in your face, “figured we could pick our girl up from school together.”

He insisted that he’d be the one to do school pick up - much like he insisted to be the one for morning dropping off, too. And you thought it was sweet; it’s just an excuse to spend a couple extra minutes with her when he could, give you a break and take on whatever responsibility possible now that’s he home for a few days. But now you feel like you finally have the upper hand; he thinks he’s so clever with his rouse when he smiles at you. It’s amusing to you how he’s got no idea your kid is somewhere hiding in this house. She’s probably still in her Disney t-shirt.

Honestly, whatever you summed it up to be was fine with him. He didn’t care; as long as he managed to finesse her out of school and into a Mickey Mouse hat without suspicion was all he needed. What he hadn’t taken into account was you flipping the script and cancelling your lunch plans. He also didn’t take into account the fact that this isn’t the Stone Age; he’s an A-list celebrity galavanting around the most crowded amusement park in a society where everyone has their phones out. Really, he should’ve thought of that beforehand.

Because now he’s got angel baby hidden in the snack closet with all 13 of her Disney souvenirs.

“No need,” he insists, watching you slide your purse onto the counter, “told y’I would.”

He awkwardly shuffles a little to his left in an attempt to divert your attention away from the pantry door. It’s almost like he’s walking funny; awkwardly dancing over to you to give you the hello kiss he assumed you were waiting for.

“I know,” you hum when he lays a kiss to your temple, “but I thought, y’know, since you’re home we could pull her out early.”

“When,” he blurts, “like, y’wanna grab her right now?”

“Why not,” you’re baiting him and he has no idea, “we could take her to the beach, do something fun.”

He’s squinting his eyes at you because, let’s be honest, he knows you well enough to figure out when you’ve got something cooking. Especially when it comes to prioritizing fun over academics. Yes, you know kindergarten is not college and she’s not learning the cure for cancer. He’s argued that point about fifty times. Which is why he remembers you very clearly reiterating that school is important. So why are you switching sides all of the sudden and so unprovoked?

“S’a good idea,” he nods a little too aggressively, “how ‘bout y’head upstairs ’n fish out some bathing suits while I sign her out, yeah?”

If he can just get you upstairs and out of the way, he thinks he’d have about a solid 3 and a half minutes to fish angel baby out from the closet and smuggle her to the car. He’ll worry about the toys later, but he can do a loop around the neighborhood once or twice and come back like he just snagged her out music class.

“No, no,” and of course you’ve pissed all over his get out of jail free plan, “we should go together.”

He exhales, shaking his head like somehow it’ll drudge up a good excuse for why he should probably go on his own. He can’t really think of anything; he’s lagging and you’re boring a stare so heavy at him he feels it burning a hole through his forehead. And he thinks he’s got something but as he opens his mouth to say it, he’s promptly interrupted by loud tousling coming from the pantry.

So you get serious and dart your eyes between Harry and the door, “What was that?”

“Weird,” he’s acting confused but really, it’s such horrible acting that you wonder how he landed three roles in three different movies, “don’t hear anything.”

Angel baby can’t for the life of her help him out here, because louder tousling erupts from the pantry. He knows she’s about elbow deep in a bag full of goldfish. All he needed, he thought, was just a few more minutes to throw you off. But you look at him, eyebrows raised, and he can’t ward off the look on his face; like he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“That bloody cat,” it was all he could think of under pressure, “real menace, he is, always getting into th’snack cabinet.”

The jig is up. He knows it, and you’re tired of playing the long game. So you stride past him before he shuts his eyes. He’s caught red handed and there’s no way he’ll drum up a good lie for why he tucked angel baby in between the tortilla chips and canisters of spaghetti. She tousles around in there a little more before your hand falls on the knob, blowing the door and his chance for another fun day wide open. He turns around apprehensively to size up your reaction; he wants to get an idea of how bad the outcome is gonna be.

But he melts at his little girl, her face painted as she sits aside all her toys and smirks innocently up at you and giggles, “I was hiding good, huh?”

“The snack closet,” you groan, cocking your head at Harry “Seriously?”

He’s got nothing to say; he knows what he did. It was just the most convenient place to put her on short notice. He looks right past you though and shoots angel baby a lopsided smile. You and him are in the same boat; she’s too wholesome to get stern with. Especially when she’s doing her toothy grin with a face painted like a butterfly. You tilt your head at her though before sighing. A good talk about lying can take place later; right now you’ve got another liar to deal with.

“Why don’t you take a few of these toys upstairs,” you encourage, gesturing the pile of trinkets she’s surrounded by, “put those away so I can talk t’daddy.”

She grabs as many as she can fit in her hand, which would be a solid two toys, and leaves the rest for you to manage before she embarks on her journey upstairs. Not before stopping by Harry, apologizing for not keeping his secret. And she also apologizes for snagging as many Oreos she could and stuffing them in her pocket to bring with her upstairs. She makes sure to keep that part hushed so it doesn’t fall on your ears. Then he’s left with you - not the ending he was hoping for after enjoying a day with angel baby. Your arms are folded, face flat in annoyance before you do that thing he fears most; that annoyed breath of air out before shifting your weight onto one hip. Seriously, it terrifies him.

“Know y’mad,” he puts both his hands up in surrender, “but m’leaving again soon and I thought, hey she hasn’t been t’Disney lately and-“

“That’s more important to you than going to school and learning?” Your tone tells him he’s not gonna maneuver out of this by being cheeky, “going to Disney? She’s not learning anything in Disney.”

“Sure she is!”

“Right,” oh now you’re being sarcastic, he’s really done it, “ because It’s A Small World and Mickey Mouses’ legacy is really gonna shape her educational development.”

“I mean,” where he’s gonna go with this, not even he’s so sure right now, “Mickey’s got his own franchise, could probably learn something there.”

He landed the point but it totally crashed and burned. Epically, because you roll your eyes and reach for one of the stuffed dolls angel baby left behind to hurl it at him. Really he’s not trying to make a joke out of this. And he swears he won’t do this again. Touring is coming to an end so there’s no need to honestly. But he doesn’t want his brief trip home to be infiltrated by hostility; he’s just trying to make light of the situation. You’re not biting though. For a minute he thinks you are because you uncross your arms and start to walk away. Not before breaking the bad news to him.

“I’m taking you off the pick up list indefinitely,” the words come so nonchalantly from you and he acts like you shot him, going to argue the unfairness before he’s swiftly cut off, “and if you argue that I’ll take you off for good. You know I will.”

“And I don’t get any blowies before I leave?” he exhales; he’s gotta ask to prepare himself for an answer, “how long am I being punished?”

“Long,” you nod affirmatively but he frowns in response, sighing as you stroll by and pat him on the back, “that right arm’ll be real strong.”

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psychedelic-ink · 2 years

Text

kinktober '22 ║ XVIII

pairing: din djarin x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, enemies to lovers

word count: 2k

summary: you have a bounty on your head, din takes the job.

warnings: hate fucking, a lil'bit of man handling, rough sex, feral!din, piv, creampie, dirty talk

MLISTS . LIBRARY. TAGLIST . KINKTOBER '22

When Din enters the bar, it doesn’t take him long to locate you. Your presence can take a hold of any room, let alone a dirty bar filled with questionable patrons. Din straightens his back, the hilt of the dark saber heavy in his hand, he didn’t want to but knew he had to wield more often if he wanted to control it. You laugh and giggle at one of the men who buys you another drink.

If someone other than him had gotten a hold of your tracking fob you would’ve been safe in this discreet planet, how very unfortunate for you that you had a high bounty, your crimes exceeding one of normal crooks and thugs and he needs the credit. His heavy steps finally attract the curious glances of the men, and a couple of women, surrounding you. You, being completely unaware or simply just didn’t care, take loud gulps of your free drink. The crowd dissipates, most of them leaving the bar all together. You sigh, your expression almost bored looking as you lift your legs to the table and cross them.

You eye him, lips twisting into a mischievous smile. Din knows that look well, a common thing supposedly powerful opponents did before he caught them. For the first time he can’t wait for that smug look to turn into fear.

“You know why I’m here,” he says, modulated voice calm as always. “I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold,”

Your gaze rakes across his armor, your comfort unbothered by his threat. The sound of you clicking your jaw reaches his ears, he feels himself getting hotter underneath the beskar. Then suddenly you raise your hands, the glass you held slipping from your fingers and shattering against the wooden floor.

“So let's say I want you to bring me in cold, what are you going to do big boy? I’m unarmed. Are you going to take that blade and cut me in half?”

Din’s grip tightens around the blade, silence follows.

“That doesn’t sound like it keeps within the Mandalorian creed now, does it?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

He wants to break you. Confusion swirls in his mind and sucks him down a deep dark hole, it feels like he’s drowning, his heavy armor making him sink faster. You confuse him. You’re unbothered, so sure of yourself, feelings that escape him in his own life. It aggravates him. Makes him livid.

Din’s dealt with smug bounties before, but they never managed to get under his skin quite like you did.

“I’ll bring you in warm then,”

“You’ll have to catch me first,”

“You say that as if that’s going to be hard–”

It happens as soon as he finishes his sentence. Before he can extend the blade, your feet are off the table and you’re nowhere insight. Only when he feels the ground slipping from underneath him that he notices that you’ve ducked, tripping him by hooking your right foot around his left ankle. As he starts to fall, you get up, the same smug appreciation perpetually etched into your face. His rage builds, hand reaching forward he grabs you by the collar and pulls you down with him. Din feels your face smack against his chest plate and you let out a choked out sound, groaning in pain. You attempt to jump away, hand already covering your nose, but he pushes you back with a solid grip curling around your nape, squeezing in warning as you struggle.

“For someone so cocky I expected more,” Din states, not being able to help his pettiness. “You might be the easiest bounty I’ve caught so far,”

“Screw you!”

“I don’t think you’ll be screwing anyone for a long time,” he grins, taking full advantage that his expression is invisible. He takes note of the way your fingers curl around the beskar. “You pissed off a lot of people. I’m impressed honestly, not a lot can steal so much…though maybe it was just sheer luck,”

Finally you look up to him, chin pressing snug against his chest plate. If looks could kill, he would be dead by now. Lucky him.

The air between you two crackles with loathing for one another, Din is highly aware of your body's proximity. You look like a caged animal, ready to strike and bite. There’s beauty in your anger, he doesn’t understand why.

Your brows knit together, a neat snarl forming against your lips.

“Nothing about what I achieved was due to luck,” you hiss. “I’m just that good,”

“Or the people you robbed lack proper security,”

The walk back to the ship is uneventful, which he’s mildly surprised by. Din was positive that he would have to knock you out or something, but he accepts this tranquility with open arms. The door of the Razor Crest closes behind you two and he pushes you further inside, he notices you subtly trying to get off the handcuffs that bind your hands in front of you. He knows that all your attempts will be futile, but hey, if you do end up removing them, kudos to you, he’ll just have to carbon-freeze you instead.

Din lets you go, allowing your curious filled glances to wander around the ship. You wrinkle your nose as you turn to face him.

“What the hell is this dump?”

He doesn’t dignify that with an answer. Din attempts to head to the cockpit but you block him, arms extended up as if he wasn’t already aware of the cuffs around your wrists.

“Aren’t you going to take these off?”

“No,”

“Asshole,”

Din, already exasperated, shakes his head.

“Why would I ever uncuff you? What part of that is even remotely logical?”

“This just proves that you’re intimidated by me,”

“Yeah, I’m intimidated by someone who can’t even put on a decent fight. Sure, whatever makes you sleep at night,”

“If you aren’t then let me go,”

“Do you think I was born yesterday?” he hisses out a breath. “Luring me into a pissing match isn’t going to make me free you– However I’m starting to understand how you operate,”

You ignore him, starting to walk around the ship as if you owned the place. Something hot climbs up Din’s spine, it burns his skin and makes him seethe silently. His jaw pulled taut, he watches as you rummage through the clutter. After seconds of you going through everything, he finally decides to leave you, if you attempt anything funny he’ll know anyway. Then he would have the satisfaction of freezing you.

He stands still when you straighten up, a piece of paper in your hand. Din recognizes it instantly, a badly drawn picture made my Grogu when he left him off at school–

Without a second thought he lashes forward, shoving you up against the wall. A loud thud echoes, and he sees the way you struggle for air. His forearms digs into your neck as he yanks the picture from between your loose fingers and delicately places it back.

“Don’t touch that,” he growls, pressing his arm further into your windpipe.

You gasp, a weak attempt to fill your lungs with oxygen, fingers claw at his beskar.

“What the fuck,” you hiss out, eyes tearing up. “Let me go, you’re choking me,”

Din blinks heavily and finally releases most of the pressure off of your neck, you take in heavy breaths, chest heaving, your gaze flickers to him. He doesn’t know what to make of this moment, whether he should leave without explanation or continue to keep you against the wall. His muscles contradict, still tense and ready for battle.

“You have a kid?” you ask in a tone that was meant to be soft but comes out accusatory.

“That’s none of your business,”

There’s a moment of stillness within the chaos. Din feels as motionless as the wall behind you. His own heart restless in his chest. Din’s body moves on its own, leaning closer. He notices the way your breathing hitches, the way your lips twitch and curl up, the way your pupils dilate. Heat radiates off of you and he doesn’t understand why.

It all comes to a boiling point, steam suffocating and urging both of you to seek the other out as if it’s the last drop of oxygen.

Din doesn’t know who initiated it first, but he finds himself buried deep inside you, your fingers spread across the steel wall as you brace yourself against it. He looks down, watching intently as his cock disappears into you again and again, pleasure needling its way into his skin. You’re so wet. A ring of slick glistening at the base of his cock each time he pulls back, a loud moan rips from your throat when he lifts his hand and strikes you.

“You like that?” he groans, fingers digging into your hips.

“Had– Had better,” you blurt out between pants. “Did you even see a woman naked before?”

Din sees red. His need to prove you wrong shows in the way he pounds into you, your cries getting louder each time his balls slap against your cunt. He growls at the way you squeeze around him, slick dripping down his length and making a mess of his cock. The pace he sets is hard and fast, his own chest heaving as modulated growns fill the Razor Crest. He lifts his hand again, it cuts through the air and a loud slap echoes. You scream out, his name falling from your lips, you slide down the wall from the force of his thrusts. A form of pride swells inside him and his gloved hand comes up to your neck, fingers forming a necklace.

“For someone who had better you sure do make a lotta noise,” he rasps, grinding his hips even deeper. “Or are you just that needy for cock, no matter who it is?”

“S-Shut up,”

Din ignores you, and squeezes your throat, a silent command for silence. He ruts inside of you, his cock begging to fill you up.

“You’re so fucking wet, were you already fucked full before I found you?” he hears you gasp in pleasure, he bites his lip instead of your skin. “Or were you just thinking about taking my fat cock from the start? You like it when I take you like this– You’re such a little brat, talking shit the moment we met–”

He pulls you up, your back now flush against his beskar. He feels your pretty cunt fluttering around him, squeezing him for everything he’s got. Din slips his fingers between your already parted lips, he groans at the way the muffled heat of your tongue swirls around the gloved digits. A fresh wave of arousal flares under his skin, he spills into you without warning, his cock buried deep. He groans, continuing to rut into you. He hears your moans, the way your pussy throbs and gushes around him, he breathes heavily realizing that you’re coming untouched.

“Good girl,” he groans, thrusting and pushing his cum in deeper. “That’s it, cum just like that,”

“Fuck you,” you answer, more affectionatly than intended. “Are you still going to collect that bounty money?”

“No,”

You scoff and he quickly adds.

“It’s not because I fucked you,” Din grunts, pulling out. “I’m trying to understand something,”

“Intriguing,”

While you’re catching your breath, Din uncuffs you and throws them to the floor. You slowly get up, his cock twitches at the way your legs tremble. You lean against the wall and he steps closer, his length brushing against the apex of your thigh.

“So what now?” you ask. “Are you going to keep me around…like a pet?”

“Depends on how you act,” his helmet touches your forehead, your eyes widens, slightly alarmed. “You’re free to go, but I still have your tracking fob. I’ll come after you again and I will catch you.”

“And if I stay?”

“You can use your very underwhelming skills to help me out.”

"You're still an ass, I hope you know that,"

Din shrugs and finally heads for the cockpit.

kinktober tags: @tusk89 , @amneris21 , @witchisenpai , @pedrito-friskito , @tom-whore-dleston , @lola766 , @batdarkladyvampir , @dindjarinswhore , @dnxgma , @eyelessfaces , @queenofthefaceless , @softtdaisy , @saintlike78 , @timpletance , @xdaddysprincessxx , @stardust-galaxies , @spacecowboyhotch, @queenofthecloudss , @prettyouttherethoughts , @reaperofmen , @partr1dge , @bbyanarchist , @alwaysdjarin , @thevoiceinyourheadx , @absurdthirst , @levi-llama , @damnyoupedro , @stardust-galaxies , @all-the-way-down-here , @welcometostayingawake, @bullet-prooflove , @rainbowcreepie

#din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x y/n #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fic #mando x you #mando fanfiction #mando x f!reader #mando x female reader #mando x reader #mando x y/n #kinktober '22 #kinktober 2022 #kinktober

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moving-wright-along · 9 months

Text

after mh everyone survives au? idk i found this in my drafts and finished it-

You wake up slowly, a sharp feeling in your abdomen causes you to moan in pain. Your eyes flutter open, but you shut them immediately when the light burns your retinas. Your pupils feel like they’re swimming beneath your eyelids. Somewhere, lost in the darkness, you pass out again.

It’s dark outside when you wake up again, and the pain in your side has faded to a dull thud. You shift your head to look around. You’re laying on a bare mattress with no bedframe, pushed into the corner of a room with concrete floors and stone walls. There’s something beneath your head, but it isn’t a pillow- you think it’s a balled up jacket, and your only source of warmth seems to be a thin sheet. There’s a window in the wall to your left, but the glass is gone and judging by the state of the rest of the room, it probably has been for a while. You can vaguely see plants and trees outside, but the warm yellow light of a camping lantern doesn’t extend far enough for you to see anything else.

Nearby there’s a man sitting on the floor, hunched over. There’s a bundle of black fabric clutched in his hands. As if the stranger felt your stare, he looks up. You think hazily that he looks familiar, but you can’t place where you’ve seen him. He has blue eyes and there’s a slight peek of sandy blonde hair underneath his yellow hood. The stranger’s mouth falls open.

“Jay?” He asks.

Jay... Is he referring to you? You don’t feel like a Jay, but you assume that’s your name. The man suddenly crawls closer. You want to shift away, but your body doesn’t move.

“Can you hear me? Jay?”

You manage a slow nod, and you notice that your brain kind of feels like jello.

“Okay, good...” The stranger leans back, and he shifts a little awkwardly, sitting at your side. “Wasn’t sure you were gonna pull through for a while there.”

Pull through? Oh, you suppose that means you almost died. That would explain the pain and the... well, everything about how you feel right now.

“Who...?” You intend to say more, but that’s all you manage to croak out. The man in front of you looks confused for a moment, like he doesn’t understand what you’re asking, then realization slowly dawns on his face.

“Oh.” He says, then remains quiet for a long moment. “I guess... you don’t recognize me?”

You just stare blankly.

“I’m uh-... I’m Brian.” He says. “You’re Jay.”

You nod.

“Here, hold on.” He mumbles, and pulls a phone out of his hoodie pocket. He sits there for a minute, fiddling with the device until he hums in triumph. He holds the phone out for you to see.

“Do you recognize him?” Brian asks. It’s a picture of another man. He has dark hair and pretty impressive sideburns and he’s smoking a cigarette. Just like Brian, he looks familiar, but no name in your mind matches with his face. You don’t understand why, but your heart hurts at the sight of him. You shake your head. Brian hums.

“That... I don’t know if that makes this easier, or harder.” Brian goes quiet for a few minutes. He looks back down at the phone and continues searching through it. The whole time, you think about the man in the picture. It’s starting to bother you now, a name is on the tip of your tongue but you just can’t force it out- it’s something short, something... familiar. You feel like you’ve forgotten a word you’ve spoken a hundred times before. You wonder how you know him, or how Brian knows him, or how Brian knows you yet you don’t even seem to know you. But your throat hurts at the very thought of trying to speak, so you keep it shut.

“How about him?”

Brian flips the screen around and holds it close to your face. The picture is slightly blurry with motion, like it was a screenshot from a video rather than an actual photo. The man with sideburns is leaned up against a wooden railing, and there’s another taller man looming over him. It looks like they’re arguing. If your heart warmed at the sight of the first man, it runs ice cold when you see the second. A shiver runs up your spine, making you jitter and twitch a little. However, like the first, you can’t remember his name.

When you don’t respond or react anymore, Brian leans back and pockets his phone again with a sigh.

“Well, I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. How are you feeling?”

Apparently your nonplussed expression is answer enough, because Brian immediately grins and laughs a bit.

“I’ll take that as a ‘not great’.” He says.

It seemed like he was about to do or say something, but he suddenly tenses, and stands up. You watch, confused, as Brian stalks over to the glass-less window, and peers out into the darkness. He seems like he’s looking for something. You look around a bit more yourself, since now it doesn’t hurt to keep your eyes open. You spot a table in the corner opposite to you that you didn’t see before. There’s a few orange prescription bottles strewn about it, and a few empty ones beneath it. There’s half full water bottles laying around and a few empty food wrappers. It makes you wonder just how long you two have been living here- or rather, how long Brian has been living here, and how long you’ve been asleep.

Brian steps away from the window slowly, and towards the table. He pops a few pills out onto his palm, grabs a water bottle and walks towards you. You tense.

“Here, take these.”

You don’t know why but there’s a clawing at your chest telling you not to take those pills. You’re scared, but just like everything else, you can’t place why. Brian doesn’t seem to notice your plight, or if he does he chooses to ignore it. In the end, you can’t deny them and Brian helps you take them without lifting your head too much. You hope that you’re just being paranoid.

Brian sits besides you heavily, but he winces when his body makes contact with the floor. His eyes stay screwed shut for a moment before he pulls them back open, one hand moving to rub the small of his back. Is he injured too?

"Try and rest up as much as you can. Once you can move, we’ll have to change locations.”

Brian shuffles, seemingly trying to get comfortable himself.

"I guess first on the agenda is finding Tim. Whether or not he'll want to see us is another story, but..." Brian trails off, shifting his shoulders, like he was trying to find a way to say something without knowing how. "First, it seems like there's a lot I need to catch you up on."

#jam marble hornets #jay merrick #brian thomas #marble hornets #My writing #tim wright #alex kralie

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niragisimp · 1 year

Text

The Pain Before - Reader x Niragi (Part One)

Part Two, Series Masterlist

Niragi Suguru is, by all definitions, a madman. Maybe that's part of the attraction; the feeling of danger when he walks past, the rush of adrenaline knowing you could die at any given moment. If he were to be the end of you, that would be more than acceptable.

When you first arrived at the Beach, you were alone. You arrived at this land with a group, recalling there being at least four others at some point. One of the first games had taken their lives or, more accurately, your winning was what took their lives. You remember just finishing up your tenth game or so, your body aching. 'Spade games aren't a joke...'

You held the card in your hand, glaring daggers at it. You tucked it away in your pouch, who knew fanny packs would become so handy? You took out the antiseptic you had, your hands burning from hitting the ground. Others tried to push you off balance, themselves getting knocked from the tilting floor. You cringed at the burning sensation and started making your way back to your home. Well, you called it home, but it was just an empty department store. You had your tent and a sleeping bag, better than most people.

You didn't get very far before being stopped by a rather beautiful girl. She tapped on your shoulder, and turning around you saw that she had her hand extended towards you. "Kuina. You really saved me back there." You took her hand and gave it a firm shake, "(Y/N), no problem. You seemed like you were in a pinch." She chuckled and smiled at you, "If by 'a pinch' you mean falling to my death, then yes, I was in a pinch." You smiled in return, your hand falling by your side. "Look, you have some good reflexes... I was wondering if you'd like to team up with us."

You gave a skeptical look, "Who is 'us?'" She continued to smile and grabbed your arm gently, leading you over to a car. "A running car? How'd you manage that?" The girl, Kuina, didn't answer but just opened the back door. You pulled away from her grip, "I don't really do teams. So, thanks I guess, but no thanks." You turned to walk away and bumped into a large man, with a scar running down the side of his face and a black tank top.

"Get in." 'Well that's not giving me much option, now is it?' You held back your words, this man would probably crush you like a bug. You turned back to Kuina and sighed, getting in the back of the car, her following suit and closing the door behind her. The car ride was silent despite your questions. "Where are we going?" "Who are you people?" Kuina just smiled and kept telling you over and over, "You'll see when we get there." Seeing as how it was getting nowhere, you stopped asking.

It was probably around 20 or so minutes until you arrived at the entrance. The words had been spray painted over, reading "The Beach." Kuina opened the door and got out as the car came to a stop, "Now, don't freak out." You followed her, closing the door behind you. "About what?" Suddenly your vision went dark, a bag being placed on your head. Your hands were quickly bound behind you with what felt like a zip tie. "What the fuck?!" Someone put a gag around the bag where your mouth was, muzzling any other further protests.

You were then in front of the leader. The bag was lifted and you squinted your eyes at the bright light. It wasn't natural light, but the lights inside somehow worked. Something you didn't miss, the LED bulbs that were everywhere. "Welcome - to the Beach!" He was wearing a floral silk kimono robe, paired with a plain pair of what seemed to be swim shorts. You took note of the people in the room; an average man with glasses, a woman with short black hair, and another with flowing hair and an outfit to kill. The girl, Kuina, was no longer with her, but the driver stood behind her.

The leader flashed around some cards, taking them all in. "Very impressive, ten cards are nothing to scoff at when you acquired them yourself." It was then you noticed everything was gone, no fanny pack, no weapons, hell they even got the knife in your boot. "My cards? What would you want with those?" The man looked up at you, "We are collecting them, of course! Here at the Beach, we work as a collective to gather all the cards in the deck. Our goal is, put simply, to go back to our world." You tilted your head at his words, curiosity surging through you. 'A way to go back home..'

He continued, "We only ask you to follow three rules. We will provide you with anything you could ever want. Electricity, food, running water, whatever you might need. Number one," he held up a single finger, locking your eyes in with his, "All members of the Beach will wear swimwear," he pulled back his robe, seeming to show off, "You can't hide any weapons this way."

"Number two, you are free to do whatever you want. Drink to your heart's content, drugs, sex. Whatever keeps you content." He smirked, seemingly proud of his first two rules. You could've sworn his face turned grim for just a moment before he continued, "And the third, most important. Death to traitors." You held your breath, 'No backing out now it seems.' You contemplated for a moment, holding your head to the ceiling and closing your eyes. You let out a sigh, turning back to the leader. "Sounds great. When do I start pool duty?"

He let out a small chuckle, "I like this one, she's got a bit of fire in her. Now, with cards like these," he held them up in his hand, then tossed them onto his desk, "Quite impressive, again. Seven of Spades, Six of Diamonds, and Seven of Hearts..." He looked your way again, "With this, you'll get a decent number. Woah," he stopped his speech, picking up one card in particular. He faced it forward for everyone to see, "A Nine of Hearts? I knew you had some fire!" He laughed and pulled back the card, gathering them and putting them in a pocket.

He nodded to the large man in the room, and suddenly you felt your hands release. You rubbed them both, the marks from the zip ties burning a bit from the pressure. "I'm the Hatter. This is Aguni," he gestured to the man from before. "This is Keiichi, Ann, and Mira," they all gave a slight nod of the head, not bothering with much else. "Kuina is right outside, she'll show you around." He smiled and gestured towards the door, "Enjoy your stay with us." You stood and made your way to the door, hand on the handle, "I'll do my best."

Holding back your sarcasm was a strong suit for you. It never went well in the real world, why would it be here? You saw Kuina leaning up against the wall, chewing on a piece of candy. "(Y/N), so I take it went well?" She smiled at you and grabbed both your hands, pulling you down the hall, "Well I was abducted, had my cards taken, and not really given much choice in the manner. So... Peachy, I guess?" Maybe holding back sarcasm wasn't as much of a strong suit as you thought it was.

Kuina led you to a large storage room. "You can take anything you want in here, have fun!~" She let out a giggle and turned her back for you to get changed. You could hear her chewing on the candy in her mouth as you began sorting through the clothes if you could call them that. You settled on a black one-piece with a floral design, it had a small diamond shape cut out over the stomach, and the sides were slit and tied together.

You looked for a cover-up and managed to find a white lace one. You grabbed it and flung it over yourself, making your way to Kuina. "Alright, all set for the ball." She smiled at your outfit, "Cute! Let's give you the tour." The pool was bigger than you thought it would be, and the bar was certainly something to ponder. She sat you down poolside, "Oh, another big thing, there are these guys that go around that patrol for anyone breaking the rules. If you can, avoid them at all costs." You nodded along, 'Whatever I can do to live a bit longer.' "Got it. What're these bracelets for by the way?" Kuina flipped yours over to reveal the number behind it, "27? Pretty good for a newcomer! They show your place in line for leaving." She held up her wrist to show, "I'm the eleventh in line, try not to be intimidated." She chuckled and nodded towards the bar, "A drink?" You glanced towards the stocked bar, "I'm game," you returned her smile and watched her get up.

You clasped your hands together and lowered your head to sigh, it's been a while since you got to relax. You felt the muscles in your back and shoulders release and the aches that came with it. The noise suddenly dropped and the near silence enveloped you. You could feel the change in the air and searched for the source. Your eyes landed on them, what you would assume were the militants Kuina had mentioned earlier.

You put your head back down, waiting for them to pass by. All of them carried some sort of weapon, 'So much for no weapons..' You heard the heavy footsteps stop behind you. You swallowed your breath, 'What're the odds?'

You felt a kick on the chair and glanced back. It was the man from earlier, Aguni, and a few others you had yet to know the names of. You could see Kuina at the bar with two drinks, stopped in her tracks watching the militants. "... Can I help you?" One of the men came forward, holding his rifle against his shoulder, "Why don't you help us?" He gave out a dark laugh, signaling another man forward.

Aguni held up his hand, stopping the man from coming any closer. "Niragi, not this one. Move on to another." The man, Niragi, seemed annoyed at this. "Yes, boss." He kicked at the chair again, following Aguni forward. He glared back at you, swirling his tongue through his lips. Kuina jogged toward you, both drinks still in hand. ".. You okay?" You nodded, taking the red drink from her hand. "Did I do something already to get on the shit list?"

Kuina shook her head, "No, just try not to catch Niragi's eye... Avoid him especially, he's fucking crazy." She shot her drink down quickly, "Aguni stopped him this time, can't guarantee he'll stop him twice." You turned behind you, looking at a blonde-haired man with a hoodie. Kuina piped up, "Chishiya! This is (Y/N)," he nodded his head once, "I heard," he turned to you, "Mind if I steal Kuina for a moment?"

"Not at all," you looked over at Kuina, "I'm gonna go check out my room, you guys have fun." You knocked back your drink, placing the glass on the ground and wiping the sides of your mouth of the sweetener. You could feel both their eyes on your back as you walked into the hotel, climbing the stairs to your room. Looking at the back of your wristband, you read the number, 'Room 213,' you glanced at the plaque in front of the hallway, following the arrows. 'Third door down on the right, easy enough.'

You opened the door, noticing the lock on the other side had been damaged, unable to lock. You sighed in defeat, 'So, not a lot of privacy here...' You were about to lie down when your stomach let out a heavy growl. With a sigh, you gathered yourself mentally and headed back out the door, not bothering to close it after yourself.

Making your way to the cafeteria, you heard shouting from inside. You contemplated entering, but your stomach won that battle. You head in quickly, staying by the sides to not draw as much attention. You caught the eye of the man on the ground, being kicked repeatedly. You stayed your course and found a shelf, not caring what you grabbed as long as you got out quickly. Ignoring the painful grunts in between pleading for the assault to stop and a string of sorry, you grabbed a bag of crackers and made for the door.

You felt a pull from your shoulder, "Where do you think you're going?” You turned to see Niragi holding you back. He spun you to face him and pushed you into the wall, his arm blocking the door. His face came closer, you could feel his warm breath on you. You brought his other hand to grasp your chin, holding you still for him to examine. "Such a delicate thing... I wonder if you'll break." He laughed as he grabbed onto your arm again, pulling you out of the cafeteria. The other men didn't follow, just kept kicking the man mercilessly.

You tried to pull your arm back, but his grip tightened on you. You began to pull back harder, trying to use your feet to gain some traction on the ground. Your attempts were proven useless as Niragi continued to pull you forward. It was then Chishiya rounded the corner, his eyes catching Niragi's immediately.

Chishiya stopped in his tracks, his monotone voice almost echoing through the halls, "Does Aguni know you're messing with her again?" Niragi stopped pulling but kept his hand locked around your arm. "Aguni should be faster if he wants a woman. You never know when they'll be riddled with holes." He looked back and smirked at you, making a show of the rifle on his shoulder. He looked back to Chishiya, a sour look on his face. "You should mind your business, snake. You might find a few extra holes in you before morning."

The blonde stepped back sarcastically, putting both hands in the air. "Wouldn't ever stand in your way. Hatter wants to see her." You could feel the grip on your arm tighten and stop as he shoved your arm away. "Tch... See you soon, Princess." He gave you one look over and swirled his tongue on his lips, "Really soon." He laughed and made his way down the hallway, bumping into Chishiya as he did, pushing him to the side. Chishiya didn't seem fazed and approached you, "Follow me."

You rubbed your arm, you could see the bruises already starting to form from Niragi's grip. 'He won't be easy to avoid now...' You followed Chishiya, stopping behind him. "I thought we were seeing the Hatter?" He gave you a small smile, "He's busy. So, I guess we'll just have to wait for him." You shot him a questioning look, "The Hatter never asked for me, did he?" Chishiya leaned up against the wall a grabbed his chest, "I would never lie." He gave another small smile, but it disappeared as quickly as the first. "Well, thanks anyways. I guess the whole 'do whatever you want' really goes for anything."

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gilbirda · 2 years

Text

Genderbent Anger Management (JazzxJason or more like JaycexJasper here). Not related to any other project.

Based on @anikuja 's drawing

------------

Jayce was very done with this party. She had wore the sexy black dress in hopes of upsetting her mother enough to kindly ask her to leave the gala; but despite a comment about taking a shawl in case she got cold, Bryce didn’t blink an eye to her choice of dress for the very formal and fancy gala.

Whatever.

Maybe she could find someone cute enough to take home tonight and kick out tomorrow morning. The men that attended these things would jump at the opportunity to sleep with one of the famous Wayne sisters and the chicks would giggle at her dangerous woman routine but fall for it anyway.

So far, no one had dared approach her. Maybe it was her scowl at not raising the kind of reaction she wanted on her mother, the way that in the past hour she had heard three comments about her ‘humble origins’ and two jabs at her selling her body for food, or the way the tiny food at the food table only made her hungrier. How could this be possible?

She grumbled as she shoved more food in her mouth, not caring about the intense red lipstick she chose for tonight smudging all over the place.

“I mean, I know how to do the Heimlich maneuver, but it has been a while since I studied it in school,” a new voice chuckled beside her. She turned, finding a shoulder. She looked up at a face smiling down at her. “I would hate to lose such a pretty girl because of my lack of practice.”

Jayce blushed.

She had been called many things - handsome, sexy, hot, you name it. Pretty girl wasn’t one of them.

“I-” Of fucking course, she choked on the canapé as she tried to speak, making a fool of herself.

She coughed, the stranger patting her on the back softly but with a strong hand. Tears gathered in her eyes as she finally coughed up the offending tiny food, but she was going to live another day. Also, it would be so humiliating if this was what killed her for good. Dahlia would somehow find her in the afterlife to mock her endlessly.

“Oops,” the stranger chuckled, rubbing his neck in a nervous gesture. “I think I made it worse.”

Jayce crossed her arms, noticing the way the stranger made an effort to keep looking at her in the eyes, despite having a very interesting view from his height.

“Hello. You almost killed me and I think you have to take responsibility.” She extended one hand. “I’m Jayce Todd, by the way.”

“Um. Yeah. I mean, I’m sorry?” His cheeks tinted a bit red, but he took her hand. His hand was soft and very warm. He was nervous, his pulse quick and erratic. “What I’m trying to say is, I apologize if my comment made you choke on absurd tiny gala food.”

“What if it bothered me to be called pretty without permission?” Jayce knew she was being mean, but she wanted to pick on this cute nervous wreck she could eat alive if she wanted, but made her want to protect him instead.

The stranger blushed harder, letting go of her hand to gesture madly. “I’m sorry! Was I too forward? My sister always tells me to try to meet new people but I never find a good topic to break the ice and apparently not everyone is into psychology around here and you look different from the rest and- and I’m rambling.” He deflated. “Please don’t hate me.”

What a himbo. I like it.

Jayce smiled wider, enjoying the way the stranger looked so put together and ready to impress people in this gala but messed up once he opened his mouth. He was clearly not from the same circles as everyone else - not rich, not an heir from a big company, not aristocracy.

Good.

“So I ‘look different’? How so?” By this time Jayce was fully messing with the man. She was enjoying how he dug a deeper grave.

“Hmm,” he thought about his answer for a bit. “Just different? Smart. You know you are hot but don’t dress to impress anyone. Also you are here at the food table instead of mingling and looking for a date, so it isn’t about that either. I think you hate being here but still made an appearance for someone else you care about, too.

“Also you are one of the Waynes but don’t care about making a good impression or networking, choosing to stick to your black sheep attitude, even if it’s a front to protect yourself from the people that wish to harm you by bringing up your past in the streets or the circumstances around your adoption into the family. They think it makes you an easy target, but they are all idiots anyway.” He shrugged.

Jayce was speechless.

This man got all of that by simply observing? Well, he may already know things since the Waynes were such a public figure, but still.

She was suddenly so annoyed, her fun ruined by the thoughtful analysis of a total stranger. She wanted to be mad at him, she wanted to kick him in the shins with her pointy heels, she wanted to kiss him right on the lips.

“That was too forward, was it?” He cringed when she didn’t respond. “Uh… please don’t hate me, I’ll just-”

Jayce stopped him from running away by grabbing the lapels of his suit jacket. She pulled so he was forced to lean and be at her level.

“You are too tall,” her voice held no hostility. The man chuckled, but waited to see what else she wanted to say. “Also, you never told me your name.”

“I knew I was forgetting something,” his lips curved in a very kissable smile. “I’m Jasper Fenton.”

#anger management ship #danny phantom #dp x dc #batman dc #jazz fenton #jason todd #jazz x jason #jazz/jason

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neoyi · 1 year

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No Straight Roads is an impressive First Good Try from a newcomer developer. It's a bit clunky (loose jump mechanics; weird fixed camera angles during stages prior to boss fights; some uh, choice voice acting, though the latter is largely relegated to NPCs), but it's visually surreal and enticing, and the game is a mastery of nuanced depths and inner secrets coming from each of the major characters.

Naturally, I was immediately drawn to the robot boy band, which, conceptually alone, is fantastic. This is such an evil thing for a major corporation to do. You have advanced machinery designed to be the perfect entertainment system, drawing in millions of fans and their money. They're completely ageless and can be exploited for however long is needed, and if one "dies", another can replace it. 1010 is diabolical.

But NSR one-ups this amusingly bizarre backdrop by adding 1010's manager and his contribution alone simultaneously explains a lot about the game's creativity and charm, AND his character. NSR isn't above emotional and heartbreaking moments, but it constantly maintains an upbeat, positive energy; fittingly Neon J's war background is portrayed as hammy and comical.

But they're not making fun of him for being a strait-laced soldier (well, a bit, but not in a mean-spirited way.) NSR is really good about laying out the cards and letting you find and piece together why these people act the way they do. And I'm just so damn bewildered and in awe that this man, clearly a war veteran and possibly enduring PTSD, decided the best way to cope is to take his toy-making skills and create a military-themed boy band. Art is therapeutic, after all.

And it somehow works? Like there is something absurd, but fitting about a former war vet addressing his band as soldiers and treating them as such. It's just another form of training, just replace guns with dancing, and any war fields with a stage platform. It's kind of fucked up, honestly.

I can see why fans have latched headcanons of this guy being a father to his boy band. Like in-game, he portrays the army-specific "Father to his Men" and hints of his backstory seem to imply that his robotic toys are very important to him. I mean, he's an artist, and a lot of artists extend a lot of themselves and a generous pouring of love (sometimes a little too much) into their crafts.

And then you see this and go, okay, yeah, I think the fans are onto something. He could have easily replaced any of these bots from an attack like that. Neon didn't have to get up front to try and protect them.

Of course, this could be another extensive of his military background; he's protecting his men because it's what he was trained to do. Maybe it's subconscious that way. Maybe he's already lost so many of his friends and brothers-in-arm that he just dived in. But I think it's abundantly clear 1010 aren't just soulless tools to him.

And like, the guy has, at least, a decent sense of morals. I'm not sure how he feels about associating with a capitalist company (and to be fair, NSR isn't really about that, though I guess I could argue that the people high up are as much victims in their own myopia that they failed to notice the greater issues as much as Bunk Bed Junction is), but he's one of the first to point out Bunk Bed Junction's chaotic method isn't exactly any better (he is correct, there wasn't any damn reason to break a nine-year-old kid's piano.)

This is kind of what I mean when I say NSR's characters has layers. So much that for a game I powered through in two days, it had a lot to say about its cast, and it does it with gusto. There's a lot I could probably talk about Neon J and 1010 (do the latter have self-awareness? Is he a cyborg because he suffered severe war wounds?)

Also holy shit, their Christmas upgrade. Words can't EVEN.

#no straight roads #neoyi talks #I recorded a video of Neon J's appearance because I wanted to show off his dance moves #but tumblr refuses to let me post this blog with it even though I met all the guidelines #tumblr ya gotta fix this shit #I hadn't had video uploading issues until this new blog format took over!

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cariantha · 2 years

Text

The Boyfriend Excuse

Book: Open Heart, Book 2 (sometime after the gala)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks)

Word count: 1.1K

Rating: Teen

Category: Fluff

Warning: A curse word or two.

Prompt: Ethan’s reaction to MC saying “I have a boyfriend” when he tries to hug/kiss her or something because she’s way too hammered. (prompt courtesy of @mvalentine)

Sawyer had been at Donahue's since happy hour started. The crew had all gathered there to celebrate Jackie's birthday. Given the occasion and who they were celebrating, tequila shots appeared in front of her one after the other.

Breaking into a sweat on the dance floor, Sawyer began to feel quite dizzy. She weaved and wobbled her way to a stool at the bar. Trying to regain equilibrium, she rested her elbows on the counter and buried her face into her hands.

A few moments later, a very tan and handsome man wearing a navy colored Hawaiian print shirt sidled up next to her.

"Hey there. How are you doing?" he asked, running fingers through his side swept hair. "Can I get you something, or maybe just take you home?"

"I'm fine, and no thank you," she replied politely, slowly lifting her head. She avoided making eye contact with him and kept her eyes trained behind the bar. She thought if she could get the bartender's attention and order two drinks that this guy would assume she wasn’t there alone.

She just managed to ask the bartender for the drinks when a towering figure who smelled like a mix of citrus and ocean breeze stepped up to the bar on her other side.

The men flanking her shared a gentlemanly nod of understanding. The taller of the two then leaned down and whispered near her ear.

"You look like you’re ready to get out of here. Do you want to come home with me tonight? Or should I take you back to your place?"

"Um, would you excuse me please?” As quickly as she could without falling over, Sawyer jumped up from the stool and started to walk away from the bar.

“Where are you going?” asked the man who had approached her first.

She whipped her head around in his direction, the quick movement making her feel like she was once again spinning in a teacup.

“I need to use the restroom.”

After locking the door, she propped herself against the sink for stability and pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans. She opened her most recent text exchange and began typing.

Sawyer took a minute to freshen up before returning to her spot at the bar. Remembering on her way back that she still needed to settle her tab, she flagged down the bartender and asked for her check. The two men shared another look over her head, this time one of amusement as Sawyer politely ignored them both.

The bartender extended the leather folder with her bill, but before she could reach it, the man in the green leather jacket grabbed it from the bartender’s hand. “Allow me.”

“That’s v-very generous. But I can’t accept,” she says, prying the folder away from him.

“And why not?” the man in the blue floral shirt interjected. He nudged her shoulder with his own. “He seems like a great guy. You should go for it,” he pretended to whisper. “And I clearly don’t stand a chance against a guy like that, so I’ll bow out.” He turned to the other man with a friendly tilt of the chin, “She’s all yours, man.”

Sawyer watched as he returned to the group of surgical interns who were setting up a new game of darts, then turned back to the man who still thought he had a chance. “I-I’m flattered really. It’s just that I have a boyfriend.”

“If you’re not interested, you can just say so. No need to use the ‘boyfriend’ excuse,” the man with the blue eyes that she has yet to even notice teased.

Looking around through squinted eyes to see if her knight in shining armor had arrived yet, she defended herself. “Honest to god, it’s not an excuse. He should be here any minute.”

“Well, if that’s really the case, then I’ll move along so he doesn’t get the wrong impression.”

“Thanks. He does tend to get a bit jealous sometimes.”

The stranger gave her an incredulous look, but resisted any rebuttal. He simply bid her goodnight and walked away.

Sawyer stepped out onto the sidewalk. She attempted to rub the fogginess from her eyes and scanned for someone that resembled Ethan.

“Rookie, over here,” he announced, meeting her halfway and wrapping his arm around her waist.

The familiarity of her nickname and his hand squeezing her side sobered her just enough to recognize him. “Boy am I glad to see you. It was like a meat factory in there tonight.”

“Is that so?” he chuckled. “Did you tell the piranhas to back off because you are already spoken for? And that I’d kick their asses if they tried to steal my woman away?”

“I did! But this one asshole didn’t believe me.”

Ethan couldn't help but laugh out loud. “An asshole, huh?”

As he guided her into the backseat of the cab, her voice got small as she nervously asked him a question.

“Ethan, can I just call you my boyfriend all the time from now on? Because ‘I have a boyfriend’ sounds a whole lot better than ‘I have a whatever.’”

As he slid into the backseat next to her, he gathered her in his arms. “You’re right, Rookie. ‘Boyfriend’ makes more sense. Let’s go with that from now on.” He kissed her forehead as a smile spread across her face. Her eyes fell shut and then she was out like a light.

A/N: In case it wasn't obvious, it was Bryce and Ethan that were "hitting" on her.

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @potionsprefect @jamespotterthefirst @annfg8 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @jerzwriter @quixoticdreamer16 @mysticalgalaxysstuff

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfic #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #ethan x sawyer #choices stories you play #choices open heart #playchoices #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

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dreams-and-drabbles · 1 year

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ur writing is really good ahhh if it's alright can i request a thoma fluff??? him surprising reader on their birthday and reader kinda tears up bc they're overwhelmed with the love and don't know if they're worth it 😭 tysm for your godly services!

Anon!!! Thank you so very much! You readers are what keep this blog alive, so thank you!!! I hope you enjoy this! :3

[F/N] sighed, making their way back to their house. They were tired. It had been a long day at work, and despite the well meaning wishes of their co workers, they hadn’t had the best day.

Ever since they’d moved away from their family home, Birthdays had grown to be almost mundane. Very rarely, did [F/N] celebrate.

It wasn’t that they didn’t want to, but more so they had very little time, and very few friends.

Although, they had gained a few new friends throughout the year.

Kamisato Ayaka, being the most surprising.

Having grown up in Natlan, [F/N] had been hesitant to move to Inazuma, and it had taken them almost two years to truly mesh in.

During this time, they met Ayaka.

She had intimidated [F/N] at first, as she was an important figure in Inazuma, and [F/N] had only just managed to fully get a grasp of the country’s culture.

This, was surprisingly what caused them to become friends.

Ayaka, despite [F/N]’s initial impression, was incredibly intrigued at the prospect of other cultures. The two of them had hit it off quickly, and [F/N] was considering extending an invitation to Ayaka, for the next time they visited home.

After befriending Ayaka, [F/N] slowly became friends with her elder brother, Ayato, as well as their housekeeper, Thoma.

Ayato had lacked his sister’s curiosity, but made up for it in his quick wit, which was something [F/N] strongly admired.

Having a strong mind was a value most from [F/N]’s home shared…

The three of them had become a breath of fresh air in [F/N]’s life, and gave [F/N] somewhere they genuinely felt they fit in.

Especially, Thoma.

He’d grown up in Mondstatd, [F/N] had learned, shortly after meeting him.

The two of them had bonded over growing up in different countries other than Inazuma, and had become incredibly close throughout the course of the year.

[F/N] and Thoma had even started dating, or at least, going on dates—

They hadn’t really put a name to their dynamic yet, though [F/N] definitely felt as though they were something a bit more…

[F/N] shook themselves from their musings, as they neared the street leading towards their house.

They paused, concern filling them, as they noticed something unusual…

Their light was on.

They rarely ever left their light on, though they may have left it, and just forgotten…

That wouldn’t surprise them, truthfully.

Although, for safety measures…

[F/N]’s gaze trailed to the ground searchingly, and they grabbed the nearest tree branch, before opening their door.

They raised the branch threateningly, their expression fierce.

“I will clobber you with this, if you take a single step towards me.”

A familiar figure stepped out from the kitchen, a large platter in their hands.

“Please don’t clobber me, I made cake? Surprise?”

[F/N] dropped the branch in shock, bringing a hand to their mouth in surprise.

“Thoma!!! You’re here?!”

[F/N] flipped the switch to turn on the lights, and their eyes widened as they took in the sight of several streamers, and a handful of packages on their kitchen counter.

Thoma sighed, running a hand through his honey locks, before giving you a small smile.

“I’d hoped to finish preparing before you got home, but knowing you, I figured you’d likely stay in this evening. I didn’t want you to be alone on your birthday, so I asked My Lady to help me set this all up. She agreed, of course, and even Lord Kamisato pitched in.”

He explained, gesturing to the scene around you.

[F/N]’s brain was struggling to keep up, as they took in the sight of the cake, and the packages on the counter.

“Why…? I mean… You didn’t have to do this. I don’t deserve all of this… You didn’t even know me a year ago!!”

They exclaimed, their eyes wide in shock, and their cheeks flushed in a mix of gratitude and embarrassment.

Thoma shook his head, a small smile on his face, as he set the cake down on the kitchen counter. He looked at [F/N], his expression kind.

“That doesn’t matter at all. You know as well as I, that sometimes bonds develop quickly. You’re important to the Kamisato family, and you’re important to me. Why wouldn’t I be here?”

[F/N]’s cheeks burned, and they averted their gaze, feeling a bit flustered.

“Ahh… I see… Thank you….Um… Will you be staying?” They stammered, fumbling over their words.

Tears stung their eyes, and they tried desperately to wipe them away.

They weren’t sad or anything!!!

Why were they crying?!

Thoma’s gaze landed on them, and it softened some.

“[F/N], why don’t you come and help me cut the cake?” He coaxed, his tone friendly.

[F/N] nodded, approaching the counter.

They glanced at the cake, feeling slightly in awe.

Thoma really was incredibly talented….

It looked absolutely gorgeous.

The cake itself was a dark velvet, and small candied roses lined its rim, the cake’s top being coated in buttercream frosting. [F/N]’s name was written on the cake’s centre in big loopy letters, the frosting used for it, being chocolate.

[F/N] stared at the cake a moment longer, before inhaling sharply, and glancing at Thoma.

“It’s so pretty… I’m…”

They murmured, their brain still slightly fuzzy.

Thoma laughed, cutting a slice, and grabbing a plate. He neatly placed the slice of cake on the plate, before handing it over to [F/N].

“Not as pretty as you, [F/N]. Happy birthday.”

He spoke, his eyes taking in [F/N]’s features.

[F/N] blushed, before sighing and taking a tiny bite of the cake. Their eyes widened as the flavor spread throughout their mouth.

It was rich, yet not overpowering, and the buttercream wasn’t overly sweet!!!

[F/N] sighed blissfully, before glancing at Thoma.

Thoma offered them a small smile, before his gaze landed on a small bit of frosting on their cheek.

He leaned his face close to theirs, pressing his lips against the spot with frosting.

“There. Now, you’re all neat.” He murmured, causing [F/N]’s cheeks to flare with heat.

They blushed, staring pointedly at their cake.

Thoma laughed, his voice light and airy.

“You’d think after we’ve been together for a while, you wouldn’t be so surprised. Still, it’s endearing. I’m glad I have you in my life, [F/N].”

Thoma said, his voice affectionate.

[F/N] met his gaze, a genuine smile forming on their lips.

“I’m glad I have you, as well. Here’s to many more years to come.” They said, their tone cheerful.

Thoma grinned, nodding enthusiastically.

“Here’s to us! Now, how are you feeling about another slice of cake?”

[ F/N] laughed, wiping a few tears from their eyes.

Their smile was blinding as they met Thoma’s gaze.

“I’m feeling pretty good.”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #thanks for the ask!#send asks #genshin reader insert #genshin thoma #thoma fluff #thoma x reader

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