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#which i can't now do anything about even if it's paid back because i can't put it in the ISA in under a year.
f4nd0m-fun · 2 days
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DPxDC - Mafia Ties
Good parents Fenton and redeemed Vlad escaping to another universe with Danny, Jordan, Ellie, Jazz, Tucker, and Sam because of GIW chaos getting so bad they literally need to go to another world to get help, only for the portal to close, and they can't open it from this side. Jordan is Jazz's age maybe a year older and Ellie accidentally got deaged to her actual age give or take which is probably about a year and a half old. Yes it's the Family Breakfast ship.
@hallowsden
Cue Vlad doing his whole possession stuff to not only get them new identities but carefully accumulate a small amount of wealth, not enough to be suspicious in his opinion but still.
The Fenton parents start looking to see if/where this world has ectoplasm because the kids, and maybe Vlad, need it. Hel, maybe the parents accidentally need it too after all those years of exposure.
I know everyone chooses Gotham for this stuff, but also that's about the most I know about DC and it has a Lazarus pit underground so we're using it.
Vlad doesn't get back into the proper businessman profile, too many eyes for him to feel safe after the GIW disaster, but he does end up a Mafia boss, or at least tries. Also, Hood becomes a new 'son' obsession for him, yeah he has Danny and Jordan and Ellie but this kid is also ghosty and probably hungry or something, right?
Hood doesn't get what's up with this weird older man who always has a baby with him, let alone why he'd even bring a baby along to mafia stuff.
Vlad thinks it's safer to have Ellie in mafia meetings than be left with the Fentons during their research obsession periods because they will literally not pay attention to anything else unless it's an emergency, it's not their fault, they're learning to manage it though.
Speaking of Fentons, they work on clean energy manufacturing topside, but underground they deal with weapons. Mostly they supply them to Vlad's crew, since that's basically their testing grounds, but they also don't make anything that's actually lethal. Vlad isn't a fan of guns though but he isn't about to bring out his plasma blasts if there isn't a good reason. (He pretends anyone who sees him cackling like a maniac hit their head, he did say he hates using guns after all).
Jordan and Jazz are probably about 17/18 now. Jazz is going to college, while Jordan slips his way into the kid's mafia (yes he knows he's a kid now too, shut up, he used to be 24). This is half to annoy Vlad and half because he's curious. Jazz, of course, with a little help from both Vlad and Tucker in getting her grades moved between universes, is in college soon, and manages a full scholarship (not that Vlad wouldn't have paid if he still had his old money, in fact he might even be a little jealous that he wasn't the one to pay for her schooling).
Jordan looks a little more like Vlad than he does Jack, due to the way the ghost half fusion effects everything, but he also looks more like Jack than Maddie because Jack is what Danny would have grown into anyway.
Ellie of course just looks like a nearly carbon copy of Danny of course, just baby and female.
Danny, Sam, and Tucker are all going to Gotham Prep, if Vlad can't pay for Jazz's schooling then he's paying at just some for theirs (they might have partial scholarships but not full ride). Danny still sneaks out at night because he can't stand sitting still after an hour time being a vigilante and ends up running into the Bat. He promptly apologizes for invading his haunt and flees.
If any ships, I'm thinking Jazz/Jason and Jordan/Dick, but I'm a sucker for everlasting Trio and Tim also has a trio of his own.
Back to Ellie and Vlad. He of course is trying to keep any 'Meta' rumors on the downlow, but she's just a baby. The harness she's in is ghost proof mostly so she can't just phase out of it, but you try changing a baby's diaper and they just turn intangible, or put then down to nap when they start floating. Hel, imagine setting her down for two seconds, she accidentally makes a shield, and now she's crying because she wants to be held. Sure, Vlad and Danny both, Jordan and Ellie too, can go through shields in human form, but that doesn't mean it doesn't sting or something. Eventually it gets figured out though.
I wonder how long it takes Jason to figure out that this Jordan fellow is related to Vlad. 😂
I also wonder what it would take for Vlad to actually use his ghost form outright, what kind of threat he'd expose himself to for the sake of his family. Just, shoving the kids at Jack - "Darling your aim is iced tea, let Maddie and myself handle this" - and doing what he has to.
And, yes, even as a Mafia boss he refuses to actually swear. Also, he probably still goes by Plasmius, the way his other form looks does NOT help the vampire rumors. Let alone the- well, I read a post on here a while ago where Ellie Danny and Jordan were deaged and needed his ectoplasm to survive. Imagine being a Plasmius goon in a meeting while he's trying to rock his baby to sleep and she's just sucking on his hand. You don't think much of it until you see he's bleeding and, even though it's technically red, your pretty sure it's glowing green and you're not sure if you want to ask (you won't but still). Plus, he's not even reacting to what must be a fair bit of pain, right?
Honestly, there's probably a betting pool about the whole weird family.
And of course I'm bringing in my Alfred Clockwork storyline. Flashpoint Thomas is Frighty, dead Thomas is Pariah, and Gotham is Martha. The moment Vlad finds out that Jason's grandparents are some of the most powerful ghosts in the realms (or at least this side of them in Gotham's case) he's like "okay I won't interfere, but maybe he'd like a friend? He doesn't seem to know a lot of ghosts.' (he tries to figure out which kid would be a better fit and that's when he finds out Jordan's been working for Hood this whole time. "You didn't tell me?" "You didn't know?!") 😂
Basically, give me a Mafia family who's major story plot isn't even the bats outright, it's just trying to survive after fleeing a world that may as well be destroyed at this point. Sure, they interact with the bats, cross paths, maybe even a couple relationships, but, overall, the Fenton-Masters are just outsiders in Gotham, learning to adjust to this new life.
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akookminsupporter · 3 days
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It's incredible frustrating to see the narrative shift from " mhj doing illegal shit with hybe having literal proof of it" to " apparently hybe is now in a cult and bts is at the center of it because reasons"?? Mhj dropping names left and right and getting their respective fandoms riled up against each other but more importantly against bts because we all know kpop fans don't care about anything else other than bashing on bts :) we have literal fans of disbanded groups crawling out of holes to try to insert themselves into this whole mess just so they can make a tweet about bts when their groups haven't been active for literal years. Saying bts paid their way to the top but then they kept saying bts will never succeed because they can't even afford to pay their producers.. so which is it :) I've met a lot of people in my life but nobody was as fucking stupid, dense, ignorant and sometimes borderline racist as kpop fans. And I know our fandom does the same and I'm not saying we don't have people like that. But holy fuck. Kpop fans are truly some of the stupidest people on earth.
BTS shouldn't even be in this mess in the first place if it wasn't for mhj name dropping them and admitting that shaman story. It took me a long time to realise that it was indeed a true story and not just some fabricated story because holy fuck who in their right mind does that. We literally had everything from accusing them of every single possible thing that is known to men to bighit going to court for them just because some people can't accept the PAST 10 YEARS. Like these hate campaigns are literally insane and if everyone could just take 5 seconds to think about them, we wouldn't be here: I mean imagine if Taylor swift or Beyonce or Coldplay had to go to court to prove that they didn't do illegal shit. But because it's BTS everyone just dismisses it with "oh they are very famous it's to be expected" and moves on. Meanwhile it's not to be expected and it's literally insane that some people are running these hate campaigns against 7 real life existing literal living breathing people and so many people don't even bat an eye.
Apparently the k-gp is siding with mhj rn because the overworked and tired office workers resonate with her sticking up to her boss - while she's also a literal CEO and reportedly has been horrible to her employees? Okay I guess.
I have my own problems with hybe and bighit and bang pd, I have A LOT of problems with them so I don't want to sound like someone who is siding with the company, but holy fuck can we just get back to the main point? Which is mhj doing illegal shit ?? And leave BTS and le sserafim and seventeen and txt and I don't fucking know who else out of this? I'm not even a fan of any of them and I have half of their fandoms blocked for stupid shit but they have nothing to do with this issue and still get dragged into this.
I sincerely hope bighit sues everyone.
THIS IS CRAZY? And why is BTS ALWAYS THE BAD GUY?! WTF?
Im so fucking tired of Kpoppies 🤬🤬🤬🤬
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y-rhywbeth2 · 1 day
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@leomonae Hmm. Were [judges] always chosen from the ranks of the patriars, even 200 years back?
That's actually a good point that I failed to factor in and just had to go research - the only aspect of it I'd considered prior was the fact that the new money minority amongst the Peers wouldn't count in this equation (whether Astarion would be from a Patriar family, and thus require human ancestry to make sense in the lore) because he died long before they were established. (I was also incorrect about lawyers: barristers are a rare (and insanely expensive to hire) minority within the city, though from what else I've seen on the topic of lawyers in the realms that is a very new evolution. As Astarion says himself though; he was a judge, he made rulings.)
By default the role of judge is performed by the Dukes, when a crime is too serious and under dispute (or a Patriar, or somebody in similar power (*cough*high ranking temple clergy*cough*) wants it taken to court) and can't be settled by officers of the Fist or the Watch. Within the Gate's legal system it's rare for a case to require a magister to rule on it, so there's not much call for judges in the first place. Rule of thumb: you just go straight to jail… or the gallows! Hm, I'm suddenly reminded of Angelo sentencing the party back in BG1: "I am commander of the Flaming Fist. I will be your judge, jury and executioner, pardon the cliché."
In the 15th century the Dukes may delegate to a member of the Parliament of Peers, but that itself raises some questions because the Peers exist because the Patriars saw an opportunity to grab power and took it*, and this power was not delegated… so it's quite possible that when Astarion was alive you had to be a Grand Duke to serve as a judge. Grand Duke Ancunín! The Gate is doomed. (I somehow don't think Astarion was ever a duke, I think that would've come up at some point.)
*"Hand all the power over the nobility". Even before the Peers the Patriars were using their money and influence - Dukes were voted for, and democracy held sway, but the nobility are still happy to try and game the system, though they weren't as successful before they could overrule the Council of Four. Nowadays they're doing it with the Peers, who will have a handful of non-Patriar members that got in by having money and (trades) Guild and Patriar connections. Dalyria, I have always mistrusted you even before finding out you were experimenting on 12 year olds, and I am staring very suspiciously at you right now. What were your connections, doctor? (The part of the systems that aren't rigged by the Patriars are usually rigged by the Flaming Fist.)
However there's nothing concrete about legal systems in the Gate in the late 13th century that I can find, only information for the 15th. So if you don't like the idea of Astarion being a Patriar here's your grounding (Which tbh, I don't necessarily like it. I see him as new money for some reason.) He would need connections and money for one of the city rulers to known him to declare him a proxy judge, if they did that back then (which, again, suggests Patriar), but there's nothing textual here to say anything concrete or say anyone's wrong.
Another tidbit of information: you don't get paid for sitting in as a judge unless you're taking bribes from interested parties. It is not a career, it's an occasional hobby. "I was a magister" = "Sometimes people bribed me to decide who lives and who dies and I probably decided based on the highest bidder and/or who was less likely to shank me for making this ruling."
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miyuhpapayuh · 2 days
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Can I be transparent for a sec? Mmkay.
I lost my job back in January over some racist ass mean girl shit and I haven't been able to find a job since then. It's almost may. By the grace of god, am I still held together but man if a bitch don't cry.
Bills never stop. Life don't stop. The fact that some over aged bully brought problems to her SECOND job and got an innocent black woman fired is crazy to me, I feel like they even blackballed me ya know? Nobody wants my ass.
Soon as I send the application off, it's coming back with a fat red NO on it. And I ain't never not do my job, so to pats that off as the THIRD and final excuse as to why you fired me is crazy.
Almost two years and still had that key in my possession til I brought it back to her ass, after she fired me. There's bitches that didn't even have codes to get in the building! I had that AND a key! Mind y'all, this was my second boss. First one got fired cause she truthfully ain't do her job, but me, always on time and ready to do my job.
We got paid $12 and hour! Who tf ain't finna do this silly shit? All I do and ring bitches up. So you saying I never rung a bitch up? Never opened/closed the store? Never cleaned my area? Never did a return? Never help a vendor? Never turn the fountain on/off? Never turned the lights on/off? Tv, either? Never put anything back? Never took something down for someone? Never carried something out for customers, which i eventually stopped on my own cause I ain't finna be no liability. This is not Lowe's. Never answered the phone? Nothing?! I just came to work and disappeared to narnia, apparently, and have y'all my ass to kiss? Yeah, okay. And how do y'all think that'll stand with no paper trail to back it up.
If I NEVER did anything, why was I still here and never written up a single time? You were my boss for five months and never wrote me up? Didn't confiscate my key? CONTINUED to let me open the store up? Tried to make me your errand girl? Picked a bitch who don't even clock ten hours a week your part time assistant manager but kept running to ME when shit would get weird and if redirect your ass to your OTHER assistant manager, because EYE do not get paid to be a secretary. Remember who you gave that job to, especially after being warned that she wouldn't be able to do the job.
Y'all, what the fuck is a part time assistant manager? Any other assistant manager we ever had clocked the full 40, cause it's a REQUIREMENT. Duh. Now part time and full time employees? Sure, but nothing else. Can't be a part time manager of a fucking establishment, that's so ass backwards.
So who would be asked to open the store a LOT if the other assistant was on vacation or whatever? Me.
If a bitch didn't ever do her job? Why call on me? Rely on me to fix problems with certain customers because you knew I'd handle it. Hell, I was helping this girl sell spaces in the store! If I never did my job? Why constantly ask me how many hours I wanted? Tell me about the other girls and how they're not doing what you want and yadda ya.
When girls started quitting, I took those long eight hour shifts to the chin to help you out. And you thanked me! Y'all she was on the phone talking to my assistant manager and they got me right before I left work to thank me for staying so late and being the only one to step up and be a team player and they appreciate me (mind yal I don't care about team player bs it just felt nice to hear that I was appreciated) and all that, just to turn around a MONTH later and say I never did my job?
I got fired over the phone because she knew how it woulda went down in person, but she also thought I wasn't smart enough to fight. First mistake.
This feels like a book lmao I'm knowing y'all prolly don't care but I just have to write this out somewhere, I just have felt so sad and angry.
Anyway. Painted tree is a boutique where people sale their wares, handmade jewelry, food, clothing items, candles, paintings, etc. you could either buy a kiosk or a booth and you were responsible for that and that alone!
So of course, there's vendors that sell shit outta their house cause they know nobody is paying attention, one of them any things this new manager was being brought in to fix cause it was starting to look like a hot mess, I'm not gonna lie to y'all, but I just worked there so whatever.
Of course me being me, I would also make a point to say something every now and again because you can't have us giving a spiel to the customers about the store, while not making sure that your current vendors are following those rules we're giving the new ones! Like???
Old manager was even telling her assistants to sale the spaces sight unseen and why make me privy to this cause you know ima tell y'all how illegal that is!
So the same part time assistant manager is involved in what ended up getting me fired. We started around the same time as cashiers and she's been trying her hardest to get this promotion at her other job, the full time job, but she's up against some sixty year old lady who's been in the company forever, so she's got seniority. Y'all already know how this ends up going. Shorty ain't get the promotion, right around the same time she gets promoted where we work.
On top of that, her husband should choke on something. I won't get into that but there was a point where she'd cry to us about him leaving her and even pimp herself to customers! I'm talking about"if y'all have any single daddies, older brothers, friends, tell 'em I'm ready to mingle!"
Inappropriate.
During the same time, Christmas Eve of 2022, to be exact, we get a text from our manager that the power was out and whoever was scheduled wouldn't have to worry about coming in. So I'm like sweet, see y'all Monday, merry new year whatever.
Of course this bitch gon text back and ask about the possibility of the lights coming back on and I'm like oh my god really. So managers like I'll let y'all know if I hear anything and get y'all to come in. Of course.
So what we ain't know was that this girl was camped out in the job parking lot, waiting to see if the lights came on.
Sure enough they did, cause why not?!?!? And she calls manager and tells HER that SHES gonna drop her kid off, change her clothes and come back to work! Told HER manager what the plan for the day was and you know it actually went down?!?? Cause she was a known snitch at head office, they don't like this girl! Our manager told us that they don't like her.
Anyway, so of course we have to come to work for like three hours and it's a waste because there was like 10 customers at most! My co worker and I are giving her shit because why were you in the parking lot waiting for the lights to come on?! You had nothing better to do cause your husband still hasn't come home?! DO NOT MAKE THAT MY FUCKING PROBLEM WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK?!
She's telling the customers that we're making her feel bad and I'm just saying "good, I hope you do feel bad" got our asses at work for nothing, yeah feel bad! I could still be in the bed! Last minute Christmas shopping my ass! I'm mad!
So why does she end saying she wants to leave early?
Not the same person who said we should thanking her for getting us more hours? Not the one who was trying to gain sympathy from the customers? NOT THE ONE WHO CAMPED OUT IN THE PARKING LOT?!!!!
When I say my head swivelllllllled, it almost came off. All my coworker did was stare at her but eyeeee had words for her ass.
No way you just said sumn bout leaving early??? You literally waited for the lights to come back on so you could get us to come to work! We're here and only been here for like 2 hours, maybe her 3, and you wanna leave early?! You ain't going nowhere. If anything ima hitch a ride with coworker and we gon leave you here to lock up. That was funny of you to think you were leaving early.
Shoulda seen her face, like dare you!
I said if our manager goes for it and you leave early, I got words for her too. I bet she ain't get work early.
My manager and I even agreed that she was being ridiculous to even ask that question, being the one who made us come to work!
Yeah she ain't like me ever since that, but she also ain't buck her shit after that either.
So when we get our new manager, she feels like she got someone on her side because let me make note that the old manager was the best friend of the assistant manager that she works alongside now. So the playing field is leveled now.
So my sister and I have a kiosk to share, my art and her baking. We get both of the week and I make it look all pretty with our candy jars and cookies and paintings and jewelry that my mom made and what have you.
I come in a day before my week is up and my stuff isn't there. In fact, that now part time assistant is standing in front of a table, taking down a coffee display.
Do we do this on Saturdays? Absolutely. Do we use the other side to display our coffee so these booths of the week can still be presented? Also, yes.
So why is mine the one you MAKE SURE you take down? Right.
So I clock in and tell my assistant manager that I needed to go to my booth. I go to my booth and our stuff is out back crazy! I call my sister while I'm putting everything back. I mean candy dishes on the edge of the shelves, my paintings on the floor, cookies put behind things. Like she just dropped it off and kept it moving.
So were upset and I call my manager and let her know what's happening and she's telling me head back up front cause conveniently both assistant managers were leaving early so I needed to watch the front so I'm like okay just call her and tell her that I don't appreciate her just throwing my stuff around and she assures that she will.
So that ended up being translated like something to brush off cause when I had to call her back cause I couldn't find one of my stand to my paintings, which I ended up finding in the office on a shelf?! Which also ended up not being a big deal to my manager which I noted was not cool, she just kinda passed off a message like we she didn't know where your things went.
She coulda left my shit where it was sitting and let me know to move it when I got in. Could moved it into the office and let me put it back myself. I got agreement on this from my manager. So I'm just like okay whatever just tell her not to touch my stuff anymore if that how she's gonna do me. That was the end of it for me, cause just let me get my money pls.
So the next day we work together again, and like any other day we do not speak to each other cause she's wishy washy and I don't get paid to speak to you nor do you get paid to speak to me. So I speak to my other coworker cause she's not an asshole to me and I go about my day.
Why does the next day roll around and my manager asks me what do we need to do to solve the tension? I'm like what tension? I'm good. When she wants to start treating me like a human, then maybe she'll get so here with me but EYE am not the problem here?? I didn't do anything to her??
She's like, well she told me that you came in and didn't speak to her but you spoke to everyone else.
I'm sorry, I'm we in high school? Didn't I tell y'all that we are not friends? I know I've told y'all that so what's this about?
I told her that I'm not rolling out a red carpet for this girl and making her feel comfortable cause she's definitely not doing that for me! Like be real! Be serious! If I told you every damn time she ain't speak to me, you woulda been tired of me long time ago! I don't come to work for that! Tell her come talk to me and I get a comment about my attitude and I shrug it off like okay haha cause I'm not confrontational all the time, it didn't cost for that ya know? So the comment was unnecessary.
So a couple days go by and I end up texting my manager to chat when I got to work later that day just letting her know that I needed to get everything off my chest about this while situation cause it was starting to bother me how the whole thing was being handled.
In that conversation, I pretty much reiterated that I just would like to continue doing my job and not worrying about catering to anyone's feelings, cause we do not get paid for that. This girl had been treating me like an outcast for a whirl and it feels racist sometimes and she's quick to defend her cause duh and I tell her that I don't need anyone to tell me what they think about it so pretty much like girl save it, I still think it's racist and she tells me to send part time assistant manager a message to say like here's where we stand and we don't gotta get along but we gotta get back to work and let it be.
So I'm like ok cool, I type it up in my notes and send it to my homegirl like girl read this and lmk what you think cause she privy to everything that's been going on!
She like that's cool but I don't think sending her that will make a difference, cause I agree with you that she should do her job just mediate or something instead of getting you do it! Remember, YOU didn't do anything to her!
So my sister came right around that time cause she was picking me up, also putting labels on her products cause again we own a kiosk, and so I tell her about it and she immediately is like do not send her anything cause they can use it against you.
So part time assistant manager ends up coming in and when I say she beelines straight for the office, she almost hurt herself getting in there.
So my assistant manager ends up telling me that if I wanted to go home early o could cause we were really slow so I was like yeah I'll see y'all tomorrow, byeee
So a couple hours later, I get a text from my manager asking me if she could call me. I already knew what it was but I'm like there's no reason why she would do that.
So she calls me and someone from corporate was on the other line! wtf? So she goes into this spiel about cutting hours and then abruptly says that here's where we part ways.
So I'm like why am I getting fired? She dances around the question and goes on to say something about an attitude, and so I ask her if it's about the situation between we and ptam (got tired of writing that out) and if it is about that situation, is she also getting fired? Cause never did I speak to that girl about any of this, it was my manager and I talking. And she doesn't answer any of what I asks, she just keeps going back to its best that we do it like this and I'm like why? She then goes on on to say she knows I wasn't happy and I'm like how?? Why would I come to work to take your shift, both assistant managers and my own in this mf if I hated my job? Girl shut up! Like not making any sense?
So the lady from corporate takes over and starts talking like an inspirational speaker about how she met me and I can go anywhere and be the best I can be and there's better opportunities and I end up zoning out cause I'm just like how tf am I gonna pay my bills now? I don't have a job lined up. I cannot believe I just got died and she didn't even give me a reason— she thought I hung up and I'm like nah I'm here but I don't wanna hear anything else or continue this conversation, you want your key back? Cool. Do I even have a shift still, tomorrow morning? No, of course not. K, you'll get it back, bye.
Immediately I send a long email to corporate and tell 'em everything that's gone on, even told em how my manager has her boyfriend/fiancé drive an hour back down the road to another location for some damn labels because ours hadn't shipped out yet. This man is NOT employed there so there's no reason why he should be being employed to do her job for her!
I also terminated the contract for my stand cause now I'm no longer there to watch my stuff and if bitch gets away with throwing shit around once, she gon do it again. Told her rip that shit up.
Now my sister was mad at me but not for long cause she knew i was upset but I was NOT talking outta anger, I mean what I said but she wanted to see if she could figure out what's going on cause I'm not the only owner of the kiosk which is fair, so we head up to the job and the assistant manager that I worked closely with was there, looking like a deer caught in headlights. This is her norm but it pissed me off more than usual.
She tried breaking bad on me, telling my sister that I called this person and that person and told em all types of shit, now me being me again, I'm asking wtf I said cause when we first started asking her questions, she wasn't aware of this and that and wasn't even allowed in the email anymore lmao and for an assistant manager, that's a bold face lie to tell cause how the emails get answered? It's just you here, dummy! YOU KNOW WHATA GOIN ON BITCH!
So when I asked her what I said in the email she just said she wasn't allowed in, she gon smirk at me and say "you know what you said"... nah! Since YOU know what's in the emails, you tell ME what I said. After that she sobered tf up and that smirk went bye bye. She even backed away from the counter cause I was getting so agitated, and she's scared of me. We've also had it out before so she knows her limits and me not being her coworker anymore, she knew better than to test me.
So I end up separating from my sister cause the conversation was going nowhere, only for us to find each other again and assistant manager told her that I never did my job. Crazy as hell.
When I say I sent a total of three emails and called corporate and only one person responded to my email— the chief of staff, mind y'all! I'm thinking she finna come with it, right? Wrong. Everybody full of hot ass.
She telling me that there were concerns— none of which were brought me but ok— about my work ethic and there's claims from SIX of my coworkers that support me being away and not ready for work but clocked in, also multiple screenshots that support the idea of me not being fond of my job.
I asked that bitch to send me this concrete ass evidence so EYE can see what EYE said and y'all know I ain't get shit back. Not even crickets. Not even a tumbleweed, bitch.
One thing about me, ima ask to see the evidence. Y'all not finna act like y'all got something on me and not share it with the class?!? Come on, where's the fun in that?!
Couldn't take the time to fabricate some text messages or print out a write up and forge my signature! Nothing!
So when it came time for me to get my unemployment, of course they tried making that difficult too! But ima fight for myself. I've come to far in that, not to.
Got them ppl sending me questionnaires and in ever text box they provided, I went into lengthy detail about this whole situation, I was so tired of telling mfs that I wasn't aware of why I was even fired, it made me literally ill.
It was like I was talking in circles and nobody was listening to me, which is something that makes me physically violent. So something needed to be done asap, cause if I gotta sit my black ass at home, I'm getting my duckets in the meantime!
So I got fired of the 16th of January, right? On the 17th of February, I log into DES and guess who was approved for their well deserved mf money cause them bitches ain't have no evidence to support me never doing my mf job?! Yeah! YEAH!!!! I cackled all morning long bitch, it was so funny and hilarious and delightful!!!
But I've been looking for a job for the last three months and it's about to be May. By the grace of god and my mama do I still have money in the bank, but the unemployment is on its last leg and it don't know what to do. I just feel like a failure a lot of the time, it really sucks to keep getting rejection letters in my email but ima keep trying. Just don't know how much try I have left in me.
So yeah, if y'all made it to the end of my long ass diary entry, I appreciate y'all and hope y'all take care of y'all selves at these jobs cause they give not one fuck about ya, k? K, stay lovely and spicy 😘😘😘😘
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thedreadvampy · 4 months
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everything around this housing shit basically boils down to: what I said would be fine 2+ years ago isn't necessarily what's fine now
#red said#we're planning on putting an offer in on a house.#we are 2.3k short on the deposit just now. 2 years ago i lent a loved one 1.8k which was earmarked to go in my ISA#my ISA adds 25% to everything in it when it comes to buying a house#but i can only put in £200 a month so it would take 9 months to dripfeed that £1800 in#actually it's a year cause i already put a minimum of £50 a month in#so back when i lent that money. i had 9 months of money still in my account dripfeeding in.#so i was like look. don't worry about it. it literally won't start affecting me until that money's already in the ISA.#but that was. over 2 years ago. the drip dried up in like mid 2022.#and so i am. upset. to find that the EXACT AMOUNT I'M SHORT BY is 2.3k. which is. 125% of £1800.#which i can't now do anything about even if it's paid back because i can't put it in the ISA in under a year.#which means I've functionally lost £450 and I'm gonna have to borrow the whole amount from other people#when i literally HAD THAT MONEY.#like it's fine. we will figure that out. and i don't regret making the loan. but it's just a mean trick the universe is playing#that I'm EXACTLY THAT AMOUNT SHORT#and it's kind of a kick in the teeth hot on the heels of Aimee's belief that saying 2.5 years ago under different circumstances#'I'll give you 2 months notice before i move' holds true now with no need to reassess#cause they're very different things but I'm both cases it's like. i said those things were fine THEN in a very SPECIFIC SET OF CIRCUMSTANCES#and now it's not then!!!! and circumstances are different!!!!#and good faith 'that's fine's in 2021 are fucking over me now because it's NOT 2021 ANY MORE AND IT'S NO LONGER FINE#it WAS legitimately fine and now it is NOT.
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Finally Together
When Jerry called, I could immediately tell something was very wrong. He was holding an ice pack up to his face and looked deranged overall.
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"Jerry? What the hell happened to you?"
"Oh, hey. Yeah. This." he pointed at his face. "That's a long story."
"Let me see!" I demanded. You see, Jerry was, most definitely, my bff - my very best, very gay friend. And he had a talent for getting into trouble, sadly.
He slowly lowered the ice pack and I gasped. His right eye was swollen shut, and his face was covered in bruises.
"How..."
"Well, there was this guy. He was kinda hot, and totally my type, but, you know, straight as an arrow. At least *now* I know that." Even despite his bruises, Jerry raised his eyebrows in the cutest way possible - one of the traits I admired about them.
Yes, I should mention, I kiiiind of had a tiny little crush on Jerry. Or perhaps a gigantic one. You always want the ones you can't have, right? In my case, I was a woman - which was enough to disqualify myself rather finally.
"...and? Did he hit you?" I asked, even though I already suspected the answer.
"Yeah. I was just talking to him, trying to subtly find out his orientation. You know how it goes. Apparently, I wasn't too subtle about it, though, and he kind of escalated all over my face. It's no big deal, now I know."
Jerry smiled, but I could clearly see that it caused him pain to do so. It nearly broke my heart.
"It is a big deal." I answered. "That's horrible. You are worth so much more than this. Where did it happen? Did you call the police?"
"It was in the gym. Keith - that's the guy - works there, so, I guess, I need a new gym." Jerry joked. "And no, I didn't call the police, it's just... it's alright, okay Mathilda?"
I was not convinced but decided to let it go. Jerry was just a so sweet and innocent guy, he wouldn't even cause someone trouble if that someone punched in his face. I, on the other hand, was fuming. That was not a way to treat my bff! I would have really liked to kick that Keith's ass right now.
I chatted a bit more with Jerry before he had to go and promised him to come over that evening.
To be quite honest, I didn't plan to do anything, but when I was walking to Jerry's apartment in the afternoon, I passed his gym. I didn't even know it was on the way, because I honestly never paid attention to it much. But now that I saw it on the way, I couldn't help it. I would go in there and just tell the manager that one of their employees was a homophobic asshole. Just a little push in the right direction.
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I entered the gym. It looked quite standard, but I couldn't see any manager or anyone else to talk to, for that matter, so I just went in there. It was quite empty, which was not surprising at this time of the day. There was, however, a young, muscular man doing push-ups. It was quite disgusting, actually, with all the sweat dripping down his body and a musky, penetrant smell was filling the room.
He stood up and greeted me.
"Hi, there. You're not a member, are you?"
"I'm not." I said. I felt like adding a "sorry" or something but decided against it. Instead, I clutched my handbag tighter.
"So, what can I do for you, ma'am?" He had that smug grin of an urge driven man who seemed to undress me with his gaze. I shuddered in disgust, but still, I straightened my back.
"Well, actually, I'm here to make a complaint."
"A complaint? About what?"
"Your staff."
"Oh? Do you have an issue with someone working here?"
"Well, yes. I just learned that one of your trainers, Keith was the name, I think, assaulted a customer. That is a terrible way to treat people, and I will not stand for it."
The guy laughed and flashed me a superior grin while he nonchalantly readjusted his groin. Free balling of course. Ugh. Can you spell 'toxic masculinity'?
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"Look, honey. Whoever told you that, they lied to you. Keith would never hit a girl, especially not a pretty one."
I felt my face reddening from anger.
"First off, I'm not your honey, and secondly, it wasn't a girl but a guy."
The guy raised his eyebrows. "Really? A guy, huh?"
"Yes. He is my very good friend, and it's not funny at all."
"Hmm. Yeah, I think I remember the guy, some fruity fag who needed to be told a lesson."
Then it dawned on me. The disgusting guy in front of me was the man that had hurt Jerry.
"You're the one who did it! How dare you!" I exclaimed and tried to slap his face.
Before I could land a hit, though, he grabbed my wrist with an iron grip and grinned like a predator.
"Ah, ah. I wouldn't try that, if I were you. Would be a shame, if something were to happen to your pretty face, too."
I withdrew my hand and trembled from disgust.
"Ugh. You're just such a disgusting... jock."
In hindsight, I had no idea what happened, but perhaps some benevolent spirit or sprite was listening. In any case, Keith all of a sudden got a really strange expression on his face and looked really pale for a moment. And then... he suddenly looked even paler, like white paper or cloth. I will never be able to forget the expression of surprise on his face, as his body kind of... collapsed in on himself. His muscular torso diminished, and his arms and legs twisted and fused into thin rubber strips. But his face... His face contorted into a white fabric pouch that was completely devoid of any features within seconds. It had only taken a few moments, but Keith had disappeared.
I looked around first, but nobody else was in the gym right now. I carefully stepped closer and inspected what was left of Keith. Inside his black, damp gym shorts that was lying on the ground, I could see a pair of men's underwear, I believe it was called a jockstrap: A large fabric pouch held by rubber bands - designed to just cover the genitals, although, judging by the size of the pouch, rather large genitals. Now, as Keith had demonstrated quite clearly just a few moments ago, he had certainly not be wearing any underwear - and I had seen what had happened to his face.
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With pointed fingers, careful not to touch the damp gym shorts and almost gagging from the strong smell, I picked up the piece of underwear. I had almost thrown it away again, when I noticed that it, too, was covered in sweat and stink. However, the piece of underwear that had once been a man held a strange fascination to me. I lifted it up to my face, to have a closer look, but didn't consider the consequences. When I breathed in, my nose was filled with the overwhelmingly strong and manly smell of sweaty, unwashed genitals, and it triggered something inside of me. All of a sudden, I felt tingly all over and groaned. My body felt weird all of a sudden. It was like that disgusting smell was all around me, enveloping me, pushing me to... change, somehow.
In horror, I felt my feet swelling up in my shoes. It wasn't painful, but it felt like I had been wearing boots that were way too small. The pressure was quickly getting unbearable and painful until my canvas shoes and thin socks couldn't take it anymore. First on the left and then, shortly after, on the right side, the toes of massive feet burst out from the footwear. The pressure subsided, and it felt fine again.
The changes didn't stop, though. Now that my feet had broken free from their restraints, my legs were the next to follow. A ripping sound heralded the death of my tights, as my legs gained mass and muscles. It looked almost comically how the threads of my tights were ripped apart, strand for strand. At the same time, I watched, as my hands grew larger. Gone were my delicate fingers, replaced by thick sausage-like appendages. Those new finger weren't carefully manicured but instead, I was now sporting short, ugly nails that would have been fitting for a lumberjack, rather than a girl.
While my legs were still growing, and I was getting visibly taller, my arms were next to follow. My blouse didn't even stand a chance as the arms did not only grew longer but most importantly, stronger. My biceps swelled like I visited the gym every day and, to my horror, I saw a tattoo forming on my right arm that reminded me a lot of the one Keith had had. I didn't have much time to think about it, though, as a new force practically ripped my blouse apart: My torso was pushing outward in all directions. My shoulders widened considerably, and my bra snapped from the strain. At first, I thought my boobs were growing, but it was quite the opposite. They were receding into my body, being replaced by even more massive and decidedly male pecs. Below them, a ripple went through my stomach, leaving behind the cobblestone road of abs.
The changes had met up at my midsection now and I was afraid of what was going to happen next. Sure enough, my skin-tight summer trousers bulged forward as something pressed against them from the inside.
"No..." I groaned, with a lower voice than I was used to, and tried to push whatever was appearing back into my midsection, but it was no use. With another ripping sound, a penis emerged from between my legs, quickly followed by a pair of testicles that pushed the ruined trousers down and settled in between my tree trunk-like thighs.
My head started swimming. That was wrong, that was so wrong. But the changes just went on. An Adam's apple formed in my throat, further lowering my voice, and my face reformed. It became squarer, and my jawbones became more pronounced. At the same time, my beautiful long hair receded into a short masculine cut. However, as hair disappeared on top of my head, it grew elsewhere. Or, should I say everywhere. Disgusting, wiry body hair grew in on my arms and legs and even on top of my enormous feet and the back of my hands. My chest was coated by a layer of short and coarse hair, and a treasure trail led down my midsection, where it disappeared into a thick pubic bush.
Speaking of bushes, two more formed in the large area of my armpits. Ugh. I was hairy like a fucking monkey. The only well-groomed bit of body hair was on my face, in the short beard that I could see in the gym mirror.
I could hardly believe my eyes. Staring back at me from the reflection was no one else but Keith. *I* was a splitting image of Keith now, only naked aside from the tatters of my clothes. I wanted to scream, but all that came out was a low grunt.
Okay, Mathilda, no reason for panic, I told myself. I would just... Go see a doctor. Yes. There had to be an explanation. This could be treated.
I took a step towards the exit and stumbled over the remains of my coughing. Oh, right, I was still naked.
The only piece of clothing was Keith's gym shorts. Well, his gym shorts and Keith himself, who was a piece of underwear now. I looked between the shorts and the underwear. On the one hand, I really didn't want to wear what had just been Keith, but on the other hand... I certainly wasn't going without any underwear. Everyone would be able to see the outline of my current genitals. Yuck.
So, lacking other options, I pulled on the white piece of underwear. It was, unsurprisingly, very sweaty, and it clung to my junk. I grimaced, but it was better than the alternative. My ass was still largely uncovered, but that was not as bad as the front side. I had to admit that my new equipment filled out the pouch pretty well.
I quickly shook my head and pulled on the gym shorts as well. It felt weird not to cover my chest, but that was probably acceptable in my current state.
Perhaps I could ask Jerry if I could borrow some men's clothing from him.
Oh my, Jerry. He was probably waiting for me. I grabbed my handbag and fled the gym.
Walking felt weird. Of course, regardless of my looks, I was still a woman, so I took small steps and refused to spread my legs too much while walking. It was very awkward. The sun was shining down and although it wasn't all *that* hot, I found myself starting to sweat. How disgusting was that? It was like those stupid mountains of muscle were producing so much heat that my skin was soon glistening with sweat and my armpits started to smell. I tested it by lifting an arm and taking a whiff. Ugh. I needed a shower, badly. I probably would be able to use Jerry's.
Jerry... I saw his face right in front of me in my mind. The cute smile, the adorable brown eyes, the cute little dimples on his cheeks when he grinned.
A strange feeling came over me from my groin area. What was going on down there? When I looked down, the ample bulge of my cock had become even bigger, probably tenting out the pouch that had been Keith's face. I groaned. Men were so primitive. All it took was one sexy thought and bam, erection.
Still, I couldn't deny that it felt pretty good. I checked it anyone on the street was looking before I felt the outline of the cock through the layers of clothing with my big hand. The touch made me moan, and I felt my member throb.
That's when I experienced the weirdest feeling. As the sweat from my groin mixed with the fluids seeping out of the cock head and were absorbed by the jockstrap, all of a sudden, I felt the presence of Keith - the real Keith. It was like a strong mental attack, to get his body back, but I fought back. It was not *his* body, it was mine, even though it may have looked like Keith right now.
It was the strangest experience. I could practically *feel* his thoughts and emotions. The humiliation from being wrapped around, well, *my* cock and balls, I could even taste and smell an echo of what he was tasting and smelling, including the weird taste of precum that had mixed into the face-pouch recently.
It wasn't easy, but I repelled Keith's mind and kind of stuffed it back into the underwear. When I continued my walk, I didn't even notice that I know walked like a man: With long, powerful strides and enough room for my balls.
Luckily, my cock had calmed down a bit by now, and I ran the rest of the way, just to make sure. I was glistening with more sweat when I finally arrived at Jerry's apartment and rang the bell. Ugh. That musk was so bad, I just hoped I could hop under the shower right away.
However, when Jerry opened the door, we were both stunned for a moment. I because Jerry looked even better in reality than when I imagined him. Foreign hormones flooded my system, coming from my balls and I just stood there for a moment. Of course, I had a crush on Jerry before, but right now, in this moment, I realized for the first time that now, Jerry wasn't quite as unreachable as before.
Jerry, on the other hand, backed away, an expression of fear on his face.
"Keith, what... Is this some kind of joke?"
I was taken aback by his reaction.
"No! It's not... It's me, Mathilda!"
"Who?"
"Mathilda, your best friend."
Jerry stared at me, confusion on his face.
"What are you talking about Keith? Wasn't it enough for you to bash my face in? Do you want to humiliate me now?"
"No, please. Listen, Jerry, you're my friend, and I would never hurt you."
He scoffed. "Oh really? My black eye says otherwise."
I could feel myself getting upset from all the testosterone and took a deep breath.
"I can explain. Please, Jerry, hear me out."
He looked at me skeptically.
"Fine. I'll listen."
With that, he let me into his apartment.
"Okay, first of all, can I take off these gym shorts? They are really really disgusting and sweaty, and they are clinging to my legs. Yuck!"
"Uh, oookay." Jerry looked even more confused but allowed it.
Gladly, I got rid of the stinking shorts and threw them at the ground, far away from me. Jerry frowned but was apparently more captured by my now only jockstrap-clad body that I sat down on his couch. I admit I wanted to get rid of the jockstrap, too, but then I would have been completely naked in my friend's living room.
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The thought was oddly exciting, and I felt my cock raise in reaction.
I just hoped that Jerry wouldn't notice my state of arousal, even though there wasn't much fabric left to hide it, but I quickly spoke.
"So, Jerry, it's really me. Remember the time when we watched Star Trek: Voyager and had a pillow fight, and you beat me easily, even though I am taller and stronger?"
"How would you know about that, Keith?" Jerry crossed his arms. He had obviously noticed my midsection problem, which was throbbing now, leading to another wet spot on the piece of underwear.
"I'm telling you, I am Ma..."
Suddenly, I grabbed my head. There it was again. Keith had reacted to my arousal and was fighting for control of *my* body again. It was weaker this time, though, and although it took me a few moments, I pushed him back between my legs, where he belonged.
Finally, I spread my legs, man-spreading without even thinking about it and giving the whole world in general and Jerry in particular a good view of my massive groin. A smirk formed on my face. Having such a big cock was something to be proud of.
"...Mathilda." I finished my sentence, although I found the name rather unfitting for a stud like me. "I just kind of... transformed into Keith's body, but it's still the same old man as always. Woman, I mean."
"Uh... what?"
I smiled and stood up, slowly, so he could see all the muscles I had gained. I was taller, too, taller than Jerry even.
"But tell me, do you like what you see?" My cock was throbbing like mad now. God, I needed to have this man!
"Uuuh... uhm... yes? Yes."
I chuckled. "Well, Jerry. I don't know how to get back to my original body yet, but do you want to... touch this one?" I gently took his hand and placed it on my chest.
Jerry didn't react at first, but then he started caressing my chest. It felt great, and he moaned, too.
Another small spurt of precum spilled into my underwear and again, Keith acted up. It was even weaker this time, and I had no trouble staying in control. I did notice something else though. Apparently, Keith was enjoying this a lot, way more than a straight man should. He was almost addicted to my cock fluids by now, and he mentally lapped at my organ submissively. And he exhibited a longing for Jerry that appeared to be too deep-rooted to have developed recently. Well, good for him, because as my jockstrap, he would have a front row seat in what happened next.
"Mathilda, is it really... okay?" Jerry asked, barely being able to restrain himself.
"Yes Jerry." I said while looking into his eyes. "It's more than okay. It's perfect. And it's Matthew from now on, okay?"
I took a deep breath, breathing in my wonderful musky smell, and I watched Jerry do the same. And when I kissed him, I couldn't wait to tear his clothes off and plow his cute little ass with my mighty cock while my lucky jockstrap was watching.
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emiko-matsui · 5 days
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Okay, I just need to get something out of the way when it comes to the Kipperlilly conversation nobody's brought up yet, which I think is insane. Almost all of The Bad Kids would be more powerful if they didn't have their tragedy porn tragic backstories.
First of all, this doesn't apply to Fig and Gorgug because if Fig wasn't Gorthalax's child she would be a lot like Kipperlilly and not the ruler of hell. I wouldn't say Gorgug has a tragic backstory, he's got a pretty normal growing up experience with ups and downs.
Let's start with her #1 nemesis, Riz Gukgak. She's so jealous that his dad was murdered and that gives him an advantage in the adventuring life. To be crude, no, it doesn't. What would give Riz an advantage in the adventuring life would be living with someone who has a direct contact to all the government's inner workings and conspiracies. Now that would be an advantage. That gives you connections and clues that no one else can get. This is not what happened. What happened was eating cereal with water for breakfast, what happened was not getting an opportunity at college, what happened was a 9 year old who stopped sleeping, what happened was not your secret agent dad giving you an advantage in the school conspiracy because he's dead. Otherwise he fucking would've.
And now Kipperlilly's new #1 nemesis, Kristen Applebees. She was ostracised from her religion for her sexuality, she achieved sainthood, and raised a dead god back to life. None of this would've happened if she hadn't been raised in The Harvestmen. No, it wouldn't, but what would have happened if Kristen had been straight? Disgusting thought, yes, I know, but let's talk about it. A Kristen who never left Helio behind would have so many more fucking advantages than the one with Cassandra has. If she had followed her birthright she would be the only chosen one of one of the world's most powerful gods. Sol is the biggest god in Spyre and Helio is his son. Helio does not have a chosen one anymore because Kristen left. It's not a title that's just given out, it could only have been Kristen. You know what's an advantage? Being the chosen one of one of the world's most powerful gods, being a god's spoken favourite, and deified by all of that god's followers. Now that would be an unfair advantage. You know what's not an advantage? Being homeless at 14 and being at the mercy of your ex-girlfriend's uncle for housing, dying and having absolutely no one there for you so you're only option to survive is to trust your own abilities enough to raise yourself from the dead, and failing school because of biased teachers.
And what of Adaine Abernant? The Elven Oracle? Her tragedy porn tragic backstory is surviving an abusive home. Now I just have to imagine that Adaine would have it a lot easier than most students, an incredible amount of unfair advantages, if her old money parents paid for every wizard whim she wanted, kept her diplomatic immunity so she could do literally anything she wanted without consequences, and gave her a direct contact into the heart of the Fallinell government. Now that is what I would call an insane amount of unfair advantage. I would be furious at this rich kid who's never had to work for anything myself. This is not even close to the case. She's barely passing classes because she can't afford the material you're required, she goes to the guidance counsellor for panic attacks, and she's being hunted by her home government. I'd say that's about every single thing in her life working against her having it easy.
Fabian Aramais Seacaster. He's complicated since he is very privileged already. He gets 5000 gold a month just for existing. He's the captain of the Owlbears because he killed the previous one. He lives alone in a mansion. Yeah, that's pretty privileged. His parents are also so severely fucked up that if they hadn't been filthy rich they would've been absolutely horrible for him. If he had parents who unconditionally supported him and stayed with him through everything, then we could talk about perhaps the most powerful person in Elmville. In Solace possibly. The most feared pirate in history who single-handedly dismantled a monarchy and fights against armies on his own is at your beck and call, does whatever you ask him to, and loves you more than anything. The greatest swordswoman in the world, that bested the most feared pirate in the world, the daughter of one of the most influential elven families and immortal will do anything you ask her, loves you to bits, and would cheat any rules for you. To have that would just be insane. You can argue that Fabian already has unfair advantages because of his social status and inheritance. This is true, but this is also true within his own adventuring party. Now his parents aren't helping him with anything and are determined that he reach his legendary status on his own. Otherwise talk about a fucking advantage.
All this to say is that if Kipperlilly got all of The Bad Kids tragedy porn like she wanted she wouldn't have been better, but she would've made them better. There is an adventuring party out there in the multiverse that has a secret agent at their disposal, the only chosen one of a Sol religion, Bill Seacaster and Hallariel Lomenelda unprompted in their corner, and a seer with unending resources and diplomatic immunity. These would've been people you start a platform about adventuring not being fair for everyone because of. The people you went against was a homeless kid, a kid with an anxiety disorder, a trust fund kid, and someone with PTSD.
I've seen your posts about Kipperlilly being wrong for her validation, but right in the fact that The Bad Kids have been given larger plots and mysteries because of their families and circumstances and I don’t want to fucking see another one. When you make that I want you to think about the adventuring party they would've been without their backstories. The insanely powerful and privileged adventuring party that almost happened. Their life got made worse, not easier because their life could have been so fucking easy. Kipperlilly can take all the tragedy porn she wants and then maybe realise that that's not what makes the adventurer. That the reason she's mad at The Bad Kids is the only reason she can even tangentially compete with them.
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dreamisols · 8 months
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permission ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
—your boyfriend has a cute but questionable habit —wc: 1,140 ; sleepy proofread —fluff, birthday fluff, rin is (squeezes him gently), some personal headcanons, and slight younger rinnie personality headcanons —rimi's ramble: happiest birthday to rin itoshi my boy uee i love him so much <3 also halfway into writing this i realized how soft i always make him but i'd gladly ramble about that too
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it's been well over a year into your relationship with rin itoshi.
and at this juncture, you could say that he's opened up to you about nearly everything. it took time, and you were as patient as ever in his eyes. he showed you everything about himself: the good, the bad, what he wants to be, and who he used to be. you can't be fooled by his grumpy persona and harsh body language, not when he finally bared his whole raw heart for you to hold and love. you two knew practically everything about each other.
which might be why you noticed rin slowly picking up some of his old habits from childhood.
for instance, he'd wake you up sometimes from your summer midday naps to offer going out and buying some popsicles from a convenience store nearby to battle the afternoon heat. despite your lazy protests, you'd drag your feet and go with him. and you'd watch as his teal eyes carefully scan the selection of icy treats inside the freezer despite knowing he'd always grab the blue twin pops.
another is when he'd take you to aquariums for dates more often. he once told you in passing that his brother used to love taking him to aquariums when they both couldn't sit and overlook the beach. and now because of how frequently you two have dates there, you two are practically regarded as regulars by the employees (they've joked to rin once about how he should propose to you in one of their scenic spots in the future; rin choked on the water he was drinking).
but the most prominent one is how rin would have this mindless habit of asking permission for the most no-brainer, useless, and quite frankly, idiotically endearing things.
you didn't question it at first. they were honestly all reasonable things to ask from someone who's in a relationship for the first time. albeit he was extremely awkward the first few times around, with him struggling to get the words out, you eventually got used to his small requests and questions.
a small "may i come in?" after every time he knocks on your door whenever he's over at your place.
a shy offer of "do you want me to brush your hair?" when he notices you dozing off a bit after a fresh evening shower.
even a "is it alright if i stay out late with the team?" text once every blue moon whenever he's dragged to their shenanigans (completely against his will).
rin may be struggling with socializing and understanding others' social cues well enough, but mama itoshi didn't raise a disrespectful boy.
you really haven't paid much attention to this habit of his until his birthday.
"i... i can do anything with you..?" rin questions, almost in disbelief. nodding, you parrot his words back, "yep! it's your special day today, so everything's your call!"
"anything...?" he asks again. and like earlier, you nod once more.
there was a beat of silence that accompanied the shocked look rin gave you.
"obviously, everything within reason..!" you cough nervously, afraid rin might've gotten the wrong idea or got too pressured by your supposed surprise, "we also don't have to go out or anything... like i said, whatever you-"
"can... we hold hands...?"
you stop your frantic rambling when your mind processed his words. your gaze is directly at him, but he's staring at the ground like he finally discovered something groundbreaking. the way he spoke sounded as if he was in utter disbelief. it was like if his crush told him that they liked him back, or like he was told that he won the grand prize of something big.
which is confusing.
"y-yes we can?" you quirk one of your brows with a rather unsure smile, "we often hold our hands together, rinnie. we even interlock fingers."
your boyfriend still has that dumb surprised look casted on the wooden floor, "oh.. yeah..."
you were about to question the tone of his voice when he perks up so suddenly and goes on a tangent,
"can we wear matching scarfs when we go out, then? it's practical for the temperature. can we use the one you bought us... that one with the sanrio dog you said reminded you of me because of soccer— pochacco?"
he sits upright and looks up at you with eyes filled with so much anticipation that you can't bear to look away, "we can wear that, right?"
you nod again, "yes rinnie, we can wear that out. like you said, it's cold anyways-"
your excited boyfriend cuts you off once more, like an overly excited child, "if it's cold, can we cuddle? oh, maybe we can also get a mini cake from the bakery nearby? or better yet a parfait— can we share? i don't like overly sweet food..." he gasps softly, like he's struck with the most genius idea, and looks up at you once more for permission.
"can i kiss you..? but.. like, a lot-"
you finally squish his cheeks to stop his mouth from blabbering more and more words that make you both want to squeal at his cuteness and shake him like a dog does with a chew toy because of how annoyingly stupidly adorable he is.
"rin itoshi." the man sits straight at the use of his full name. "i love you with all my heart but oh my god if you ask permission from me for yet another stupid thing i might kiss you and or muffle you with the couch pillow." as if for good measure that your point gets across, you flick rin's forehead softly.
"you know that you're free to spoil yourself, match anything with me, and indulge in any form of affection you're comfortable with." you leave a soft kiss on his cheek, which elicits a gasp from your boyfriend.
"so no more of these useless questions, okay?"
rin nods three times, still looking at you with all the love in the world. your black cat of a boyfriend has magically morphed into this puppy of a man, you can practically envision his imaginary tail wagging from excitement. but you don't mind this side of rin—the side of his that allows his inner emotions, his inner youth run free. if anything, it's a testament to how much he's grown comfortable with you.
your lips form a small smile, your eyes reflect all your love back at him.
just as you were about to change the topic, you catch his teal eyes drift to your lips, back up to your eyes, then down to the floor.
three seconds pass.
"can we-" "you just want the kiss on the lips, don't you?"
if it results in more opportunities for kisses, then yes, he doesn't mind asking all these stupid nonsensical questions.
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likes and reblogs are appreciated, but please don’t copy or repost my work!
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sanguineterrain · 24 days
Note
Hi Sanne! I'm not sure if requests are open, but if you're up to it I'd like to request red hood x reporter! Maybe reporter reader is getting too close to a case and is starting to become a target and hood takes her protection into his own hands? ((Including lots of midnight rendezvous and rooftop bump ins))
i love this prompt sm! i've been thinking about a reporter reader ever since i read task force z :) thanks for requesting!
jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. tw: reader is attacked (but they're okay), guns, violence, fighting, jason being both a force to be reckoned with and a big softie. 2.5k words
****
"I don't need protection."
The Red Hood crosses his arms. You cross yours right back.
"Yes, you do," he says.
"No, I don't. I've lived in Gotham my whole life. I can take care of myself."
"Living around and being in the thick of violence are very different. You're already chasing this story; they will come after you."
And what a story it is. The story of the decade, at the very least. A task force of formerly-dead Arkham patients wielded against Gotham by a mysterious benefactor.
It's terrifying. It's dangerous. It's sure to win you your first Pulitzer.
And it all means absolutely nothing if the Red Hood keeps wrapping you in red tape.
Your jaw ticks. "This is my story, Hood. You can't turn it in, so I will. And I won't be scared off by some slimeball."
"Oh, please. You wouldn't even have known about this story if it wasn't for me, smarty."
Smarty. His favorite moniker for you because, according to him, you think you know everything.
Working with the Red Hood has been an unfortunate side effect of chasing your prize-winning story. Not only is he wanted in twenty-six countries (you Googled it) and is a ruthless crime lord (supposedly formerly, but you're doubtful), but worst of all, he's got an attitude to match yours.
He's also built like a tank, which is why you can't just. Outrun him.
"I can't just not publish the story," you say.
"I don't want to stop you from publishing the story. Hence the protection."
"I can't afford a bodyguard."
"Well, it's a good thing I already paid my rent this month."
You scoff. "The Gotham Gazette has a strict 'no armed and dangerous' policy. I'm afraid we all have to leave our gun-toting vigilantes at home."
You open the driver's door of your car, ready to end the conversation here and now. Hood calmly closes the door with his hip and leans.
You glare. "Get off of my car."
"Fact." He holds up a finger. "These kinds of people always strike before the story comes out. They know you're scared and stressed, and they wanna do it before the story gets out. Otherwise, it's obvious who killed who."
"And where did you read this fact? Crime Lord's Digest? We don't even know if they know I'm the reporter who broke into the lab."
"Listen, smarty, I've been in this game a lot longer than you. I know how they operate," he says, finally getting off of your car, only to lean on the hood. Jerk. "It's only a matter of time before whoever's behind this snuffs you out."
"I am not letting a wanted criminal nest in my apartment!"
"That's why I'd be there."
"I was talking about you, Hood."
"Funny."
"I'm not joking. Look, I appreciate your... help." You try not to show your exasperation. "But there's no way I'm inviting you over to my apartment. That'll set off more alarms. If anything happens, I'll call you. Until then, stay away. Deal?"
Hood looks you over.
"Hm. You're awfully comfortable with giving me orders, smarty."
Your adrenaline spikes for a second. But it quickly calms. You've worked with Hood for a month now. Sure, you were petrified the first week, but it quickly dissipated. You've fallen into an odd camaraderie with him.
It's actually kind of nice, having him on your side. No one at the Gazette gives you the time of day. You've become used to having a partner. Not that you'd ever tell him that.
"You take orders so well, I can't help but dole them out," you say, only a little smirky.
"Watch it," Hood rumbles, only half-serious. Probably.
You beam and wrench open your car door, sliding into the seat.
"See?" you say, turning the ignition. "No snipers waiting to take me out. I'll be fine."
He shakes his head and slides off the hood. "Ten bucks says they'll try by the end of the week."
You close your door. "You're on."
****
As it turns out, Hood doesn't need the end of the week to earn his tenner. Trouble breaks down your door the very same night.
You're on your couch with some well-earned Lebanese takeout when your door is ripped off of your hinges. You shoot up from the couch, chest immediately tight.
Your assailant is masked and isn't that typical, giving masked men everywhere a bad name.
You run to the kitchen, hoping you can grab a knife. But you're grabbed before you can get there. You slip on the carpet and trip further into your assailant's arms.
"Keep still so I won't make a mess," is all he says.
You start screaming. He covers your mouth and you bite his hand. That earns you a thump on your cheek, so hard your vision blurs.
Bang!
You freeze, expecting the warm drip of blood and the excruciating pain to accompany it. Instead, your assailant falls to the floor, clutching his ribs. You stumble backwards and see Hood at your door, gun still aimed. He stalks over and kicks the assailant in the chest as he does. The assailant groans.
"You okay?"
You're still staring at the man who very nearly killed you a minute ago. Blood roars in your ears. You think you might be close to fainting.
"Hey." Big, gloved hands hold your face. You flinch and hold the owner's wrists. Hood comes into view once more.
"Are you okay?" he asks firmly. "Look at me, look at me, sweet. Breathe. 'S okay. Does anything hurt? Did he—"
Hood cuts himself off as he touches your cheek, where you were hit. He lightly runs a thumb over what is probably a budding bruise.
Hood lets you go and whirls onto your attacker. He hauls him up and presses a gun to his stomach.
"Go ahead, shoot me!" the attacker shouts.
"If I shoot you, it won't be out of mercy. You won't get a quick death. You don't deserve it," Hood snarls, and you suddenly remember all of your good reasons for fearing the Red Hood.
"I ain't telling ya shit!"
"I don't expect you to," Hood says, and fires again.
The man crumples to the ground, but he's clearly still breathing. Still alive. Hood drags him to the door by his collar.
"You go back to your boss. And you tell 'em that they're fucking with the Red Hood now. And, in case I'm not being perfectly fucking clear through all that blood loss—" Hood grabs the man by his hair and wrenches his head back. "If you come for my reporter again, you'll wish I was kind enough to put a bullet in your head."
Hood hauls your attacker outside. You hear a car start a minute later, and it tears down the street.
You look at your guardian angel, spattered in blood.
Not nearly as much blood as I expected, you think manically.
Your body aches and shakes with adrenaline. You can't even get enough control to move to the couch.
"How–how did you get here so fast?" you ask, staring at your now cracked coffee table.
"I've been monitoring your apartment since you got home. One of the traffic cameras picked up a stolen vehicle turning onto your block, so I came here."
You look at Hood. He seems very collected, all things considered.
"You—how did you find my apartment? Have you been stalking me?"
"Please. Lend me a little credit, smarty. I don't need to stalk you to find where you live," he says, holstering his gun.
"Are you insane?!" you burst. "That is such a gross invasion of privacy! What the hell is wrong with you?"
Hood looks at you.
"What's wrong with me is I just saved your life," he says evenly. "And on that note, you owe me ten bucks. Maybe even fifteen, considering it took less than a day for them to do exactly what I said they would."
Your lip wobbles. You don't know what triggers it; maybe it's your scratched up door or torn sofa or the fact that the Red Hood is in your living room right now with blood on his suit.
The tears form quickly. You can't stop them.
You cover your face but a sob claws out of your throat. Soon, you fall into big, heaving cries.
"Whoa, hey." The floorboards creak under Hood's unsure footsteps. "Hey, I didn't mean that. Shit. I was just kidding about the bet part. Aw, don't cry, smarty."
A hand lightly touches your shoulder. You lean in, but don't dare to initiate more contact. So Hood eases you into a side hug, awkwardly patting your other arm. He's extremely warm and solid with muscle, but his chest is soft enough to rest your head on. He unclips his holster so it doesn't dig into your body.
"I was just kidding," Hood says quietly in your ear. He rubs your arm. "'M sorry. Didn't mean to make y'cry."
You sniff and shake your head. "No, it–it's not that, I'm just—God, I'm t-terrified, Hood. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? They're gonna kill me! I'm gonna die before I win my first Pulitzer!"
You try to suck in deep breath but it's not working. Hood leads your unsteady feet to the couch. You sit, fingers gripping his jacket. Hood carefully loosens your grip.
"They're not gonna kill ya, smarty. I won't let 'em. C'mon, let's have a seat. Where's your kitchen?"
You point, lashes still thick with tears. Hood leaves and returns shortly. A glass of water is held to your lips. You drink it, breathing stilted.
"'S okay. Take it easy. Breathe. That's right."
You swallow half of the water, and he sets the glass down on the coffee table. Hood hands you a wad of tissues.
"This is pathetic," you say, wiping your tears. "Can't believe I'm being nursed by the Red Hood."
"I think nursed is a strong word. But it's more than I usually do for my informants. Then again, they don't usually burst into tears."
"Don't make fun of me. I'm fragile."
"I wasn't making fun of you," Hood says, gentler than you've ever heard him. He puts the tissues aside and rests a hand on your shoulder. You turn into it, appreciative of the weight. "You handled this better than most people would. You didn't even pass out. Hell, I've passed out."
You're sure that Hood is leaving out important details behind that anecdote, like fighting off a hundred men or being swallowed by a whale beforehand. You're grateful nonetheless.
You turn to him, fresh tears in your eyes. "They're gonna kill me, Red."
He shakes his head. "No. Listen to me. Nobody is gonna do anything to you, okay? I'm not gonna let 'em hurt you, smarty pie."
"That's an impossible promise," you say. "One of these days, something will happen. You can't be everywhere at once. Especially not while I'm at home."
Hood tilts his head. "Well..."
"Well, what?"
He rubs his throat. An old injury, he'd once told you. The pain flares up sometimes.
"I could call in a favor. Get you into a safehouse."
"You would do that for me?" you ask. You probably shouldn't ask. Shouldn't look a generous vigilante in the mouth. But you can't help it.
"I can't very well publish the story myself, can I?"
You shrug. "I doubt that. You have your ways. Once you have the evidence, you don't need me."
"That's not true," Hood says fiercely. "I do need you."
Your eyes widen. Hood fumbles for a moment.
"That—I mean for the case. Obviously. I don't have any journalistic links besides you. And I wouldn't want the story to fall into the wrong hands."
"Oh." You have a strong urge to wrap your arms around him. Weird. "Well, um, thank you. I appreciate it."
"Don't thank me yet. It'll take me a few days to get the safehouse," he says.
You deflate. "Oh. So I have to stay here until then?"
Hood is quiet for a long time. So long, you briefly revisit your original theory that the Red Hood is actually an AI remotely controlled by a billionaire.
"Hood?"
You reach to touch him. He flinches, a tiny movement. You immediately draw back.
Nope. Still a man.
"Sorry," he says, hand slipping from your shoulder. "I was, uh, going over options. No, your place is toast until we find whoever's behind this. But, um, it would be possible for you to—if you want to, 'cause if you don't, y'know, I understand, but I—it would be doable for you to, uh, stay with me. Until I get the safehouse."
"Stay... in your apartment?"
"'S not far from here. And it's a hell of a lot better protected than your place. And, y'know, I'd be there most of the time, so like..." Hood clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. It'd be safe. I promise."
"I wouldn't want to impose," you say, nervously scratching your arm.
"Mm. If you're scared of staying with me, y'can just say so. I won't take it personal."
He does kind of sound like he's taking it personally.
"No, Hood, it's not that. I don't... I'm not afraid of you. That, uh, went away a while back," you say. "I just... I don't want to burden you. After all, it's your space."
He makes a sound that tells you he's rolling his eyes behind his helmet.
"Saving your life is important, smarty. Why you don't think so, I'll never know."
You make a soft, pleased sound. "Got a real bleeding heart there, Red."
He sighs. "Yeah. I'm working on it."
You grin. "Thank you for rescuing me."
"Part of the job. If you don't wanna stay with me, I could..." Hood hesitates. "With your permission... I could get the Bats involved. Ask one of them to house you."
"You mean Batman?"
Hood grunts. "Preferably anyone but him, but yeah, if it comes to that. He'll probably get involved anyway. Fuckin' busybody."
"The Bats would protect me? But they don't know me."
"Don't matter. If I asked them to, they would. If that's something you want."
You think. Is it something you want?
Sure, any reasonable person would prefer Nightwing or Batman to protect them.
"I don't want to stay with them," you say. "I'd rather stay with you."
He jerks like you've told him the sky is falling.
"You do?" he asks.
"Well, yeah. I know you, Red. And I know you'll keep me safe."
"At any cost," he says.
That simultaneously frightens and thrills you.
"Then I'd like to go home with you," you say. "If you'll have me."
"'Course, smarty. Anything to keep you safe. Go pack some stuff. I'll be out here. You're okay?"
"I'm okay." You stand and turn before he can see what he does to you.
Yes, it's an odd thing, being partners with the Red Hood.
You're starting to fear that you can't have it any other way.
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oikasugayama · 4 months
Note
You can't escape from chuuya 😜 the same as with dazai with the reader with a short skirt nsfw I wanted the most chuuye😠
fiiiiine, fine. Have Chuuya smut that's twice as long as the Dazai one ;)
MDNI, NSFW, fem!reader in a short skirt, 5k of filthy dirty nasty smutttt, name calling, brat taming, spanking, daddy (only once), fingering, cum eating, blow job, all sorts of shit ok. MDNI MDNI MDNI
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You’re always professionally dressed at work. Members of the Port Mafia are paid handsomely, so you can all afford to dress to the nines, even for a simple day in the office or a dangerous tryst out in enemy territory. Like many of your coworkers, you prefer a polished, businessy look when conducting Port Mafia business. You have a closet full of perfectly tailored pantsuits, mostly in black though you do keep a few fun colors should you get the chance to wear them. 
On your days off, however, you’re more or less unrecognizable to your coworkers thanks to the difference in your business style and your personal style. You’re not just fond of bright and pastel colors, you’re obsessed with them. The girlier, prettier, and gaudier a piece of clothing is, the more you love it. You’re inspired by Harajuku, and pastel goth styles, as well as some frilly vintage vibes now and again. You even have a small collection of colorful wigs you like to wear out sometimes when an outfit calls for just the right one. 
One of your favorite outfits includes a black tube top, a cropped pastel pink cardigan that hangs off one shoulder, a black and pink plaid mini skirt over some fashionably ripped fishnet tights and a chunky pair of black platform boots. You like to accessorize of course, and typically go for a pastel pink dog collar choker with a heart pendant, chains hanging across your waist and down one side of your skirt, dangly earrings, and several rings. Depending on your mood, your makeup is either very sharp and black, or very soft and pink, and if you choose to wear a wig, its color is the opposite of the makeup you chose.
On the day you accidentally run into several of your coworkers in a bar, you’re in a pink wig with black eyeliner so sharp it could cut a man. 
You’re not surprised that they don’t recognize you. At work you have very plain, naturally colored hair, typically smoothed back into a bun, much like Higuchi and Gin do. In a plain black suit, it’s hard to show off your style. Besides, you wouldn’t want any of your fun clothes getting ruined in the line of duty. And it’s not like, on the rare occasion you hang out with your coworkers, that you’ve had time to go home and change. Typically if you go anywhere with them that isn’t for work, it’s just to lunch in the middle of the day, or to a bar at the end of a shift. They’ve never known you to look anything except professional.
This leads you to want to have a little fun with them all, to see how close you can get and what you can start saying before one of them catches on that it’s you.
You walk past the group a few times on the way to the bar or to the table you’re perched at. They don’t say anything about you at first, and they’re not talking about anything important from what you hear. On your third trip past, however, you do catch one of them mentioning you, and you use your ability-- which allows you to focus your hearing on anything you so choose within a certain radius-- to eavesdrop from across the loud room.
“--same chick has walked by like 5 times already,” Tachihara says.
“Are you sure?” Gin asks.
“Why does it matter? We’re in public,” Higuchi says. “People are going to walk by.”
“I know it’s definitely her because, I mean, look at her. Of course I noticed her.”
You pretend like you don’t notice when several curious heads turn your way.
“God, she’s hot,” Chuuya says, whistling under his breath. “Fucking Christ, those thighs.”
“Hey, I saw her first,” Tachihara says, while the others roll their eyes and tell the two to quiet down.
“I’d offer to share, but if I get a piece of that ass, it’s fucking mine.”
“Jesus Christ, Chuuya, you’ve had too much to drink already.”
“We’ve been here 20 minutes, I’ve barely had one glass!” he says defensively.
“Why don’t you ask her to dance if you’re so interested?” Akutagawa asks, disinterested but amused at the notion of Chuuya making a fool of himself.
“Nah,” he says, waving his hand at his group. “A hot piece of ass like that you’ve gotta chase a little. I’ve gotta buy her a drink, maybe, then ask her to dance later, then lay on the charm.”
“You’re a real ladies man, Chuuya,” Tachihara says sarcastically.
The conversation gradually turns to something else. You let it drift away since your focus isn’t exactly on them anymore, it’s suddenly on the pulsing desire burning in your crotch. “Holy shit,” you think. “Chuuya wants to fuck me so bad he’s making stupid ass plans for it.” Honestly, he could hit it any day of the week if he’d just ask, but he’s never seemed too interested in you at work. “This is what does it for him, I guess,” you think, downing the rest of your drink. You then decide to grab his attention again by stretching a little, arching your back and raising your arms over your head to make your cropped cardigan and your tube top expose a bit of your belly. It’s not a lot, but for someone already desperate to see more of you, it works.
“Fucking hell,” Chuuya mutters under his breath, eyes on you. You make eye contact with him and wink, and when he smirks instead of looking away, you run your hand up your thigh, pulling your short skirt up even higher. His eyebrows raise, giving you a look like “oh yeah?” and you smile. 
“His move,” you think, using your other hand to twirl your empty glass around a little bit. Chuuya excuses himself from the group and goes to the bar quickly.
You’ve got him hook, line, and sinker.
It’s then that the worst thing happens. Higuchi’s phone rings, then Gin’s, and Tachihara’s, and Akutagawa’s, and Chuuya’s, and yours. It’s an emergency alert from the PM. You’re all being called in, and you need to be there fast. You’re only a couple of blocks from the office. All of your coworkers will be there in less than 10 minutes. You don’t have time to go home and change. You have to go right now.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hiss under your breath, getting up and rushing for the door before the others do. Maybe if you get out ahead of them they won’t notice you--
“God dammit,” Chuuya groans. “I was just about to get her a fuckin’ drink.”
“She’s running out, too,” Higuchi points out.
“It’s weird that she’s going in the same direction as us, right?” Tachihara asks, unsure.
“There are a lot of other things out this way, dumbass,” Chuuya says.
Then you take a left, and the group takes a left. They get closer, and you try to walk faster.
Then you take a right, and they take a right. Then you approach the PM headquarter building.
“What the fuck?” Chuuya asks, rushing forward to try to stop you at the door, but you rush inside as soon as the door opens a crack.
“Hey!” Tachihara calls, rushing in after you. You hit the button to call an elevator, but realize the only available one is several floors away. You’re cornered. The jig is up.
Fuck.
“Heeeey,” you say, slowly turning around to greet the group as they gather. “Any of you know what the emergency is? I’m wondering if it’s about the Detective Agency’s involvement in our failed gun import. I was just telling Akutagawa-san yesterday that I had a feeling they’d end up losing the guns to some other organization stealing them before the Detectives could decide whether to turn us in over it.”
“Oh my god,” Higuchi gasps.
“It’s [Y/N],” Gin says.
“What?!” Chuuya and Tachihara both say, and Akutagawa is the only one to stay focused.
“It likely is exactly that,” he says. “Your foresight is spot on as usual.”
“What’s with this outfit?!” Higuchi asks, feeling your cardigan and grabbing the hem of your skirt. “It’s so short! Why are you dressed like this? You were at the same bar as us!”
“This is how I dress on my days off,” you answer honestly, shrugging. The elevator doors finally open and you all start to file in. “And yes, I’m well aware we were at the same bar,” you say, glancing at Chuuya as he shuffles past you. His cheeks blaze and his eyes lock onto the ground, refusing to meet your gaze.
So that’s how it is.
The emergency meeting goes on for two tense hours. It’s exactly what you and Akutagawa thought it would be about, and your group, as well as other Mafia and specifically Black Lizard leaders and members discuss action plans, potential repercussions, and viable reconnaissance missions. When Mori finally announces that you all deserve a break and that you’re meet again in an hour, you’re the first to get up and leave the room, feeling embarrassed to be in a work situation in your fun outfit.
Several footsteps follow you into the hallway, but they all patter off in different directions after a turn here, a turn there.
Only one set of steps follows you into the stairwell. It’s quiet, with very light steps, but you know it’s there thanks to your impeccable hearing.
The same footsteps follow you down two floors, three, four, five…
You feel like you’re being chased, but you think you know exactly who it is, and so the chase is more exciting than it is scary.
You finally get to the floor that your office is on and leave the stairwell. You walk quickly to your office, go in but leave the door cracked, and to test your theory that you’re being followed, you “accidentally” drop your phone after walking a few feet inside. You slowly bend over, letting your short skirt rise up over the curve of your ass, completely exposing your fishnet-covered ass and black thong to anyone who may be standing at the door. You grab your phone slowly, give a cheeky shake of your butt, then stand back up.
Your office door clicks closed behind you, and the lock engages loudly.
“That show for me?” Chuuya asks. You turn to find him leaning against your door. A quick glance down shows you that he’s already at least half-hard in his pants.
“Who else?” you ask softly, leaning against the edge of the desk. It’s cold on your mostly bare ass, but you act cool, crossing one ankle over the other. Your legs look long and sexy stretched out in front of you, and you can tell that Chuuya thinks so too because he can’t stop looking at them.
“It’s a shame we were called away,” you say to break the tension. “I was looking forward to that drink.”
“Were you?” he asks, slowly walking toward you. His hands are deep in his pockets like usual, always acting calm and cool. The look in his eye is different than normal, though. It’s hungry. “Nice to know.”
“You know, you’re not as forward as I thought you’d be,” you admit, leaning back on your hands. You’re on full display for him now. “I half expected you to be all over me as soon as you closed that door.”
“Tell me to leave,” he says, finally standing toe to toe with you. “Tell me to get the fuck out otherwise I will be all over you.”
“Why would I tell you to get the fuck out when I could tell you to come the fuck on already?”
Chuuya makes a noise between a moan and a growl and leaps forward, standing so both of his legs are over yours. He grabs your face with both of his hands and pulls you in for a hot, hard kiss. It’s all tongue and nipping at each other’s lips and hot panting into each other’s mouths.
Your hands shamelessly roam his body once you’ve sat up to meet him. You push his jackets back off of his shoulders so it falls onto the ground. You feel his muscular back and shoulders and arms. You slide your hands lower, feeling his sides and hips. You start messing with his belt by the time he even realizes he can touch you back.
“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he pants, yanking at your cardigan so you take it off. “Honestly good that you don’t fucking dress like this at work,” he says, yanking your tube top down too so your breasts are exposed. “I’d be fucking you every time I fucking see you.” He gropes your tits, squeezing them and massaging them in his hands. He tweaks your perked nipples, rolling them between his fingers, making them hard and sensitive. 
“Chuuya,” you whine, “why don’t you suck on them if you like them so much?” He looks up at you and smirks, temporarily grabbing you by the hips to push you further back on your desk so you can lay down comfortably. Once you’re flat he climbs on top, knees on either side of your hips, and leans down to your chest. He licks wet stripes across your tit, teasing your nipple with his tongue. He kisses open-mouthed around your boob, refusing to give you what you really want until you finally whine and shift under him, then he sucks your nipple into his mouth and keeps steady pressure on it for several seconds until finally releasing it with a wet smacking sound. He gives the other breast a similar treatment, teasing and sucking and licking. You reach a hand up into his hair, gently moaning his name while you card your fingers through.
He starts grinding his hard-on against your lower belly, just above your crotch given the way that he’s kneeled over you. You whimper and push your hips up, trying to meet him as he grinds. He’s thoroughly attached to your breasts, playing with one nipple while sucking on the other, trading, kissing, sucking hickies onto them. He works a stream of moans and pants and whines from you, getting you to moan his name several times, which makes him grind down onto you harder.
Finally, his hand leaves your chest and trails down your body, his slightly calloused fingers feeling rough on your soft skin. Chuuya flips your short skirt up, wasting no time in cupping your still-clothed cunt and stroking his fingers over it.
“God damn, you’re wet already,” he says, shifting so his face is against your neck.
“You’re fucking hot,” you admit, tugging on his hair. He bites not-so-gently, leaving an instant red and purple hickey on a very obvious spot. His fingers slowly spread, coming together again almost squeezing your pussy lips together. He does it again after you moan in his ear, adding more pressure to tease you with, and again, but this time his fingers dip under your panties and bunch the fabric up together. He pulls it up, several inches higher than your body, making the fabric squeeze in between your lips, leaving it pressing against your clit.
“Oh yeah?” he asks, chuckling when you grind up against his hand and your own panties, seeking stimulation. “That why you’re letting me touch your cunt? ‘Cause you think I’m hot?”
“Yeah,” you whine, still grinding upward. It’s working, your movements are giving you little shocks of pleasure as the damp fabric drags across your clit and also teases your pussy somewhat. “I’d let you fuck me too.” Your voice is breathy and unsteady, and Chuuya can tell just from the sound of it that you’re getting really worked up.
“I don’t know, doll,” he says, hovering over you by one hand pressed against the desk beside your head. “I kind of like the view watching you fuck yourself on my hand.”
“It’s not really ‘on your hand’ without your fingers in me.” You could swear that his eyes light up.
“What was that?” He teases you again, drifting his fingers over the extremely sensitive skin of your pussy. “Did you say something--” he dips a finger past your lips just enough to hook around your panties and pull them back, pushing them to the side-- “about my fingers?”
“Fucking tease,” you huff, reaching down to grab his hand, but he becomes an immovable force when you try to push his hand further down. “Oh and that stupid fucking ability of yours.” He laughs at that and tsks at you.
“You’ve got a dirty fuckin’ mouth,” he says. “Maybe you need something good in there to clean it out.” He gets off the desk and unbuckles his belt, unzips his pants, and kicks them to the floor. You sit up to see him in just his black underwear and white t-shirt, palming himself through the fabric. “C’mere and suck this dick.”
You obey, getting onto the ground with shaky thighs. He’d gotten you more worked up than you realized, and knowing yourself, sucking his dick is not going to calm you down, it’s going to get you closer to the edge.
You pull his boxers down and he steps out of them. His cock is thick and longer than your fist when you close it around his shaft. You give him a few pumps, spreading some pre-cum down his length, before leaning forward with an open mouth to take him in greedily. You start bobbing your head immediately, trying to take as much of him as possible. He stretches your mouth more than anyone else ever has, and you have a feeling your jaw is gonna get sore if you do this for too long.
Chuuya grabs fistfulls of your hair and uses it to guide you back and forth, setting a quicker pace than you already were. He works up to fucking your mouth, using your head like a sex toy. His tip bounces off the back of your throat multiple times, and you have to focus really hard on not gagging. You get messy, letting spit and drool fall out of the corners of your mouth. Tears also spring up in your eyes from him fucking your throat, but you don’t even try to stop them from falling. Your eyeliner is waterproof, but your mascara isn’t, so some black streaks may fall down your cheeks, but you don’t care. You honestly kind of want to see the fucked out look on your face when this is all over.
“You’re too good at this,” Chuuya moans. “Fucking cockslut, aren’t you? Gonna be my slut now, huh? Gonna let me fuck your throat some more, right? Whenever I want?”
You hum around him but can’t exactly nod given his cock in your mouth. He gets it though, and he also moans when you hum as the vibrations go straight into his sensitive tip when it touches the back of your mouth.
“Gonna cum in your mouth,” he grunts, “gonna make you eat it all.”
You try to shake your head, pushing back on his thighs, whining.
“No?” he asks, slowing down and stopping. “Why not, doll?” He lets you back up, finally letting go of your hair.
“That’s a waste,” you croak out, then clear your throat and try to make the fucked-out sound go away. “If you don’t bend me over my desk and fuck me until I scream I’m never fucking touching you again.”
“Oh, fuck yeah!” he says excitedly, reaching down for your arms. He picks you up effortlessly thanks to his ability, and for some reason that really does it for you. You moan just from that touch, feeling your pussy throb. Then he turns you around, pushes you down onto your desk, and smacks your ass hard. You yelp and then moan as he rubs the sting out.
“Where do you want me to cum? On your back?”
“In my cunt, dumbass.”
“Geez, you’re a fucking bitch, you know that?” he hisses, squeezing one hand around the base of his cock while the other swings and spanks you again. “And it’s so fucking hot.” He spanks you again. He refuses to tell you he felt his orgasm building from you telling him to cum inside, though his brain is being overrun by that thought now.
He flips your skirt up and rubs his hands on your ass, squeezing your cheeks and gently smacking them to make them jiggle.
“Are you having fun?” you ask him, earning another hard spank, which you moan loudly in response to, a fun smirk on your face. “I kinda like that,” you coo, wiggling your hips back toward him. “Spank me again, Chuuya-san. I’ve been very, very bad.” 
He spanks you hard and you yelp, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. “Oh, fuck,” you moan softly, torn between pleasure and pain. “You’re an asshole.” He spanks you again on the other cheek. “Will you fuck me already, asshole?”
“I would if you’d stop being a bitch.”
“Maybe you’ve gotta fuck the bitch out of me,” you say, trying to look at him over your shoulder. “You’ll never know until you try.”
“Amen,” he says flippantly, pulling your panties to the side again to make sure they’re still out of his way. He rubs his fingers over your wet pussy, dipping between the folds but never into your vagina. He spreads your wetness all over your folds, as if it wasn’t there already, but then he huffs and you hear a slight ripping.
“What was that?” you ask, turning to him.
“Stupid fucking lines are in my way.”
“Lines? My fishnets? You did not just rip my tights, you fucking douche.”
“So what if I did?” he asks, stroking himself with your wet.
“Are you serious? You fucking a-- ohhh, fuck!” You try to insult him again but get cut off by his thick cock skewering you in one swift movement. You’re so wet and ready that he slides straight in, your walls stretching to fit around his girth.
“Fuuuuuck,” he moans, throwing his head back as he bottoms out. “Your bitch pussy is the best shit I’ve ever felt, I swear to god,” he says, grabbing both sides of your hips as he withdraws and then snaps his hips forward again. “You’re so fucking hot.”
“Oh, shit, Chuuyaaa,” you whine, voice going high and strained. “You’re so big, what the fuck? What the-- fuuuck,” you moan as he sets a pace, hips snapping forward every second, filling the room with wet fucking sounds and the smack of his heavy balls against your thighs.
“I’ve gotta fuckin’ see you,” he says after only a minute, backing out of you. You grunt and groan, glaring at him over your shoulder until he once again grabs you with that ability of his and moves you around like you weigh nothing. He has you on your side, one leg hanging off the desk, the other hooked over his shoulder, and then he teases your pussy with the head of his cock, dragging it back and forth, up and down your lips, pushing in only near your clit, not near your hole.
“Chuuya, please,” you sigh, reaching down toward where your bodies meet, but he grabs your hand and pins it to the desk. “Please fuck me, don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what?” he asks cheekily, moving his hips as if thrusting, only letting his cock rub between your pussy lips.
“Don’t tease me,” you pant, trying to squirm your hips. “Put your cock back in me, now.”
“Now?” he asks, playing dumb.
“Now,” you insist. He rubs his tip against your clit.
“What about now?”
“Stop teasing me!”
“You know, that’s no way to ask for a favor,” he says. “Maybe I’ll just walk away. Then what would you do? Fuck yourself on your fingers?”
“I’ll find Akutagwa,” you huff, trying to loosen your hand from his grasp. He barks out a laugh, whole body shaking for a moment.
“Akutagawa?! He wouldn’t know what to do with a pussy like this, babe,” he smirks, finally moving his tip back toward your hole. “You really don’t think he could fuck you like I can, right?”
“What if I do?” You try to keep sounding tough, but the brat is being teased out of you, and you really, really want to be fucked dumb on his cock right now. “Maybe-- ahhh--” Chuuya enters you slowly, smirking down at you and the way your eyes roll back before fluttering closed. 
“Maybe what?” Chuuya asks, bottoming out.
“Maybe-- Akutagawa--” you stutter as Chuuya pulls back and snaps his hips forward again, spearing your g-spot as if he was locked on target.
“Akutagawa?” he asks, trying to lead you on as he slowly builds his pace. You try to babble something out, but as he starts properly fucking you, leaning over you and holding your leg up so he can press you into the desk, you just can’t think of anything except for Chuuya.
“Chuuya-- Chuuya-- Oh, fuck, right there-- Ohh, Chuuya!”
The sound alone is enough to make someone blush, your wet pussy gushing around him every time he goes balls deep, his body pressing against yours, getting wet and precum and sweat all over each other's crotches. You both get lost in it, moaning and swearing and giving stupid empath threats to each other.
“You better make me cum,” you say to him, and he responds “You better stop being such a bitch when I make this pussy squirt.”
He starts palming your tits again when he gets close, panting and fucking you as quickly as he can.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. You sure I can bust inside?” he manages to ask through his panting.
“Yes,” you moan, “oh fuck yeah. Cum in this pussy, daddy.”
“Daddy?!” he asks, and that’s what does it. You caught him so off guard that his whole body jerks and he hunches over you, cumming a big, hot load into your cunt. His face is burning red, and some sweat drips down his forehead. His eyes are squeezed shut, his mouth dropped open, a tiny bit of drool about to sneak out the corner of his mouth. “Fucking bitch,” he says, but it’s so high pitched and tense that it makes you laugh. Your pussy involuntarily contracts when you laugh, and your whole body slightly jiggles under him, and it makes him yelp and moan again, long and drawn out. “God damn,” he whines, pulling back as if he’s going to back out now.
“Hey, hey, hey,” you say, trying to stop him by the leg that’s thrown over his shoulder. “You didn’t make me cum yet. You’re not done here, Chuuya.”
“I’m not but my dick is,” he says, still kind of whiny. “I think you just sucked me dry, I really fucking think you did.” You can’t help but to laugh a little more as he lowers your leg and rolls you onto your back. “It’s only polite--” he says, dropping to his knees “--that I return the favor.” In a flash his tongue is on your pussy, lapping up his cum as it spills out of you. He swallows it without comment, and keeps lapping at your pussy, dipping his tongue into your hole while it’s still nice and open from his cock. You run your hand through his hair again, making sure he can’t pull back too far. You want his whole face in your cunt and you aren’t letting up on this. 
His fingers join his mouth, taking over for his tongue in prodding at your hole. They slip inside, twisting together at the same time as they pull in and out. He teases your g-spot every time this way, and the side of his fingers on your sensitive walls feels so so good. You start moaning his name when his tongue swirls around your clit, working relentless circles on it. He intersperses little sucks on it, and once he even dips his nose down and uses it to rub your clit since it’s a bit firmer than his tongue. He eats you out like an absolute fucking champ, shaking his head and blowing out to give you slight vibrating sensations, suckling to give you quick peaks of stimulation, and flicking his tongue back and forth and rolling it in circles to build your orgasm up higher and higher and higher until finally.
“Oh god, Chuuya-- I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-- oohhhh Chuuya!!” Your back arches up, your fists close tightly in his hair, and you force his face into your pussy as you cum on his mouth and his fingers, rolling your hips to meet his touches. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down, just keeps letting you use him as your orgasm rolls and rolls and finally starts to patter out. Only when you let go of his hair does he sit upright, pull his fingers out of you, and suck your cum off of his fingers.
“You’re a lot of fun, you know that?” he asks, standing up, stretching his somewhat sore muscles.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” you sigh happily. Your whole body feels weightless and blissful and you aren’t ready to get up yet, even as Chuuya starts getting dressed.
“You dress like this often?”
“Every day off,” you say, finally having enough energy to at least pull your tube top back up to cover your breasts.
“Good. You should come see me again then.”
“You came to see me. And yes, you should come see me again.” You sit up, tilting your head and smiling mischievously at him.
“Guess I didn’t fuck the brat out of you yet,” he mumbles, reaching up to grab your jaw in his hand. “Next time then.”
“I’d love to see you try.”
607 notes · View notes
momotorin · 4 months
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my phone fell, love lmao i posted it by accident ^^ @tozakimo
strawberry kisses
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farmer!momo x baker!reader | fluff, smut | men dni!
it's been an exhausting year, especially for you. you just graduated from your university, settled for a corporate job somewhere in the bustling and loud city of tokyo. it wasn't even related to your degree, for fucks sake, but you settled for it as it paid off really well.
but then, you got another offer later during the year. working for a small bakery at night just across your apartment. it was quiet, healing, with the smell of pastry and coffee pungent in the air— it was surely something you can't compare with anything.
your corporate job got too heavy, and it got to the point that it wasn't working well anymore. you kept your job at the bakery, now working full time.
unfortunately, before november came, the bakery shut down because of unprecedented reasons; which, the owner died of oldness, which you mourned as ms. sato was the kindest person to ever teach you about anything you know about baking now, she was like a second mother, one that you held really dear to your heart.
late november, your sister, mina, went to your apartment in tokyo.
all primed and cut into the right places, mina knocks on your door, three times, "y/n! open this goddamn door!" she shouted, and you revealed yourself, wrapped around a blanket, eyes puffed with tears. "oh," she hugs you immediately, taking your head to lay on her neck as you hugged her back. "tokyo must've been so unkind to you, huh?"
"i-it is," you sobbed as she held you in her arms. "i wanna go home, mina."
"well," she chuckles, rubbing your back in comfort and warmth. "i wouldn't be here if i didn't take you home."
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it was such a pleasant feeling; taking the train home to kobe, the regret and awfulness of the big city of tokyo being transported away from you. mina was kind enough to lend you the window seat, which you really enjoyed.
mina taps you on the hand, "hey," she smiled. "it's sana's birthday in a few days..."
"oh! really?" you perked up at the mention of her girlfriend's name. "what do you plan to do?"
"nothing that big," she chuckles, her head hanging down and her hands fiddling with the rings on her fingers. "i bought a ring already, though."
"what!?" you exclaimed, hands on your mouth, trying to make yourself as shocked as you looked. "i mean, you've known each other for what... like 6 years already? i'm glad for you two."
mina sighs, "i know you are," she said. "but i just don't know how to ask her, you know? i'm not the biggest romantic out there. she is. but she's so busy with the farm and all; i know momo's there to help her but i just don't want to add to her worry if i ever ask h-"
"mina," you held your sister by the shoulders and made her look at you. "i'm not really close with sana but i know she loves you. trust me, she's been waiting for you to pop the question."
"well," she blushes. "could you help me?"
"of course," you chuckled at her. "we have like... 20 more days. so no pressure. let's just get home first, hm?"
"yeah," mina sighs as she lies back on her seat. "you know, i'd like you to meet her best friend, though." mina chuckled. "momo. such a lovely person. the girl literally leaves a couple of her fruits for us when she supplies the flour."
you smiled, imagining what she was like, how she was like, going into your family bakery back home. "she sounds delightful."
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the next day, you got your being up to go and operate the family bakery, just a few streets away from your home. you went in with mina and briefed you about the different pastries that they still serve. you added a little bit of yours, but you let it out for a while, not confident enough to put it on the pastry shelves yet.
you sighed, taking a break from kneading, baking, mixing, and carrying the goods. it's around 6 'o clock am, just an hour before the bakery opens. mina was cleaning up the dining area thoroughly, as her jazz music blasted in the background.
the bell of the entrance rings, and you jolt up, "we're not yet ope-"
"oh," the woman chuckled, bags of flour on her toned shoulders, carried by muscled biceps. mina comes to lead the woman to the kitchen, where she puts down the flour on the supply area. "um," she says. "i-i need to get the fruits, hold on."
the woman rushes outside, and you stare at her as she goes to her truck.
"that's momo," mina chuckled at your obvious flush. it wasn't one of attraction, but one of embarrassment. you should've greeted her better. "she's cute isn't she?"
she looked delightful as she sounds.
"here," momo drops the fruits on the counter, bunched up in a plastic bag. "i- um, gotta go, mina."
"no, wait," you chuckled at her obvious shyness, her timidness making her cuter than she already was. "sit for a little while. i didn't greet you well so, wait-" you smiled at her as she sat on one of the seats in the dining area. you rushed to the baking area, where you stored the eclairs that you made, pulled out the little box, and stored it for her.
"here," you handed the box of eclairs to her. "just a little trade for the fruits you got us."
she smiles, "thank you," she bowed. "are you new here?"
"oh," you chuckled as you reached out your hand, urging her to shake hands with you. "i'm y/n. mina's sister."
she gently takes your hand, "momo," she says, looking into your eyes in an obvious flush as she spoke. "i- um, i'm mina's flour supplier."
"well, she told me already," you retracted your hand from her hold, but you admit, that was the greatest handshake of your life. she stands, putting the chair back on its old position. "see you around, i guess?"
"yeah, um," she looks down on her shoes as she takes the box of eclairs. "see you around, y/n."
momo leaves shortly after, leaves you in a haze, and mina nudges at you as she sees that little interaction when she is cleaning up the counter.
she laughs, "can't believe i saw two losers interacting with each other, oh my god," she chuckles. "i'm definitely going to ask sana to set you two up on a date because neither of you are going to do it."
"is she really that fucking buff?" you asked, albeit randomly.
"jesus," mina laughs further. "you stared at her arms the whole time?"
"damn," you palmed your face in the realization. "well it was out. if it had eyes, it'll be looking at me. but she's cute."
"can't believe that my sister thirsted in front of me," mina sighed. "anyways, she lives just right beside sana's. if you wanna know that sort of thing."
well, it's not useless, you thought. "i'm not some creep... i don't just want to show up at her door."
mina laughs as she arranges the trays of pastries ready to be lined up at the pastry shelves, "trust me, she wants you to."
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the next day, you and mina, with her girlfriend, came and visited sana's farm, somewhere up the countryside. sana grew vines of grapes, with her wine distillery up the hill.
as you went up the hill, you saw various other fruits, and it reminded you of what momo supplies to the bakery everyday. you've made a jam out of the strawberries she gave, and it was as red as what you're seeing now.
"ah, momo!" sana calls out, waving to the truck that was driving by.
"hey!" momo stopped the truck, coming down from it. you looked in her direction; her hair tied up into a nice bun, her black tank top, her worn out cargo pants, and some boots. god. she looks like she's straight out of your dream. "the deliveries this day was so fucking many-" she mumbles and suddenly stops as you made your way to mina's side. "oh, hi," she greets, in a small tone. "y/n, right?"
"yeah," you smiled. "the strawberries there," you pointed. "are they yours?"
"oh," she scratched her nape, her cheeks at an obvious blush. "yeah- um, yeah it's mine."
"we'll head to the distillery for a while," sana chuckles as she held mina's hand. "take it from here, momo. she hasn't seen your side of the place."
"sana," she sighs. "alright. okay. i'll go take care of it."
you chuckled, "so, strawberries," you said. "how come they're so plump here? they're beautiful."
"well," she went to your side as you viewed the row of freshly grown strawberries. "it's all grown naturally. no pesticides or anything, i make sure that even the soil's clean."
"oh, wow," you commented. "i made a jam out of the strawberries you've been giving us," you said. "it's the yummiest ones. you want to have some?"
"oh, of course," she smiles. you can't help but melt. "the eclairs were so good though," she commented. "how come you aren't selling them yet?"
"i- um," you went silent for a second. "i'm not that confident yet with how it can turn out, you know. that's the last recipe that i learned from someone."
"well," she sighs. "i totally understand. i'll wait for those, though!"
you smiled at her. "so," you looked at her. "what do you do besides farming, momo?"
"i- um," she looks down on her shoes once more, trying to hide her obviously red face. "play drums at the local bar."
"no way!" you said, exclaiming in amusement. "wow," you commented on her. "you seem so chill. didn't expect that you're one."
"well," she chuckled. "it's a jazz bar. nothing too hardcore."
"what do you mean nothing too hardcore?" you chuckled once more, and as you two progress in talking, the more you get amazed at how incredibly delightful this woman was. "i love jazz. where do you play? i wanna go drop by."
"santorini's," she says. "it's sana's bar, actually."
"that friend of yours is one big businesswoman here, huh," you commented. "well, she's perfect with mina."
"couldn't agree more," she says. "when your sister came to her life, it was like she had forgiven anything. i mean, i came late to an invitation once and she just said 'it's okay,' like it's the most normal thing. i guess your sister really did put a bunch of ice on her head to calm her down."
you laughed loudly, astounded by the way she spoke, "ah, you're so..."
"what?" she asks.
"nothing," you chuckled. "so," you clasped your hands at your back. "will you drop by us tomorrow, too?"
"well," she blushed. "of course. i have to deliver mina's orders."
"okay," you smiled. "you don't have to be so uptight around me, you know?"
"i- um-" momo stuttered as you held her hand.
"see," you had a tight grip around her hand, letting her feel the coldness of it against her warm ones. "you're kinda- too cute for this."
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it was a thursday, and you went to the bakery right after you took your workout, a new thing that you've been wanting to do.
well, you didn't have time to change, so you baked in your workout outfit, just switching the shirt into a spare, tight, tank top. the apron was clearly useless now, probably.
momo came into the kitchen while you were taking out the freshly baked buns, one that was baking underneath the bigger oven so you had to lean down.
"oh, careful." momo notes as she passes by you. she doesn't forget the sight. you bent down like that waiting for her to get over. god. it made momo go a little crazy while she went and dropped the flour at its usual spot in the bakery supply area. she let herself take that in for a while as she sat down, closing her eyes, feeling an uncomfortable state between her legs.
"momo?" you called out to her, and you went to the supply area, where you found her just.. there. "oh," you quickly went to get some water, as she stared a little too much on your backside on those purple leggings. "here," you said, cutting her out of her daze as you handed her some water. "tough day?"
"very," she said, gulping down the water with a couple of sips. you reached out to a certain drawer in the supply area, your perfectly shaped glutes on display for her. well, fuck. you handed over the strawberry jam to her. "oh, is this it?"
"yeah," you smiled. "try it out. just get a sourdough at the shelves. don't worry, i'll pay for it."
"nope, i have plenty of those at home," she chuckled as she stood up. "i- um," she stutters once more. "are you still going? i'm playing at saturday."
"oh," you smiled, wide enough to compete with the sun. "of course, momo. wouldn't miss that."
"great!" she smiles in happiness, clutching the strawberry jam next to her.
"i'll be cheering for you," you chuckled as you put a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it. "good luck!"
she chuckled. "yeah, thanks."
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saturday came by fast.
you hung out with momo last night at the market fair, along with mina and sana, who went around the carnival hand in hand.
you had your own delight with momo, who was chill at the carnival games, her winning at several ones, surprisingly as you two ate several snacks on the way. she won a big my melody plushie, which you will forever be thankful for.
you just like spending time with her. she has such immense warmth, though quite timid and shy sometimes, but she was beautiful in a way that you wanted to be consumed by her.
"god," you sigh against your bed, trying to settle into an outfit. "fuck."
"hey," mina says, her body leaning against the doorway. "having trouble?"
"yeah," you sighed as you sat up, and mina made her way to sit with you. "i've been struggling to find an outfit. i don't want something too fitting, too unrevealing, too tight, too everything- i just want something perfect for the night, mina."
mina laughs as she made way to your closet, and pulls out a specific dress. it was a black, suede, champagne dress with its straps thin just to hold the dress together.
"mina, you're a fucking genius," you sighed in comfort as you chuckled, taking the dress from mina's hands. "this is perfect, thank you."
mina laughs, "i know it is. date with momo?"
"hm, kinda like that. i'm seeing her play," you chuckled. "what about you? staying for the night?"
"i'll be at sana's," mina sighs. "she's not having the best time right now..."
"oh, like..." you stopped for a moment, understanding that her girlfriend was sick.
"she's been having a bad fever for the past few days." mina sighs.
"well," you sighed as well, but you remembered something. "i had some extra soup i made a few hours ago," you said. "maybe that could help her."
"you're a lifesaver," mina sighs in relief. "why'd you make it though?"
"just wanted something warm," you giggled. "anyways, i'll be leaving at 7."
"yeah, no worries," mina smiles. "good luck with your date!"
you arrived at the bar, a little past 7pm, perfectly in time in momo's set.
the previous band had only finished playing as you sat right in front, ordering a martini as the first drink of the night.
momo's band comes in as the dim light slowly gets stronger, you catch a sight of momo; in her signature tank top, arms out, with her pants, and a flannel tightly wrapping around the waistband of it. god. she looks so good.
the drums were, unusually, right on front and on the side, just a little beside you and she says 'hi,' with a little smile, her drumstick stuck to her fingers.
she was so cute, but then, she went on to test the tone of the drums, and it sounded great. but god, the way her muscles flexed as she took the drums to sound was so tempting that you just wanted to pull her out of the band and take her home.
but then, she catches a little glance at you again, as she sees you walk to the bathroom. she doesn't miss the subtle appearance of your cleavage, the way that the dress hugged your body so divine, and the way that your ass was so curved in it. it drove her fucking crazy.
you made your way back to your seat, as momo started the song with her band. you got another drink of the same kind.
they played really well, a couple of jazz hits, some requests, and some originals from their band were played.
momo looked at you from the crowd the whole time. you were so beautiful and irresistible in that fucking dress, that she wants to make you tell her to rip it off.
a few songs later, momo's band takes a bow, and the lights dim once more as a sign that their set was finished.
you wait for her silently at your table, now ordering your fourth drink of the night.
"hey," someone taps your shoulder from the back. "how was it?"
you saw momo in all of her glory, her flannel now covering her bare arms. she sits beside you, looking you in the eye.
"you're so great," you said. "you were so good at playing the drums!"
"well," she chuckled as she gestured to the waiter to get her the same drink. "someone important was watching, i didn't want to blow that up."
you chuckled at her, "hm, important, then? so, it's a date..."
"you could put it that way," she teased back. she leans closer to whisper to you, "you look beautiful tonight."
"thanks," you said as you put a hand on her thigh, getting her comfortable with your touches. "you're not so bad yourself. had your arms out and all on the stage."
momo laughs, "well, i didn't know you'd stare at that."
"i mean, i can help but to, you know," you confessed. "it's just so big-"
"something else is bigger- what?" she gets flustered by herself, saying the phrase. "no, oh my god, sorry, y/n... that was such a bad joke."
you just laughed and let yourself lean on her arm. "it's nothing, momo. it's okay," you placed a little kiss on her cheek. "you know, if you really wanna show it off," you slide your hands through her inner thighs, down to her crotch, feeling the material and her cock desperately straining against it. "do it, momo."
"fuck," she stands up, holding your hand, leaving the payment on the table as she makes a rush going out of the bar. "you're getting it."
"hm, let me." you chuckled as she went to open the car door for you, letting you sit down. she went and got into the other side of the car, and she drove away.
"such a little tease for me," she said, running her hand through your bare thigh. "wearing this tight fucking dress," she touches the hem of it as she drove off. "all for others to see."
you held onto your seatbelts as she creeped her fingers closer to your center. "momo-"
the teasing stopped once you arrived at her house, as she pulled you into a deep, breathless kiss. she lets you wrap your legs around her waist as she carries you inside, going to her room.
"fuck," she pulls away, closing her room's door, as she nipped on your neck, making sure that it's red enough for her. "you don't know how much i've been wanting you, baby."
you can't help but moan, and clutch your hand on her hair as she laid you down on her bed, nipping on the valley of your collarbones as she takes off your dress.
"so fucking pretty." she latches on your nipple, as she takes the other to knead with her hand.
"momo, ah- fuck," you rut your hips against her knee as she holds you by the waist. "i need you."
she pulls away from your breasts, as you kiss her, taking her flannel off, and pulling her tank top off. you held tightly to her bicep, as you gently tug on her pants, opening the button of it.
she kneels on top of you, her evident bulge just right on your face. it curved to the side of her calvin klein's, and she takes your hand to palm it.
"so warm, baby," she says, feeling the sensation of you touching it above her boxers. "take it off."
you took it off, and it springed right up, her cock red and hard, slapping up to her navel.
you took her length to your hand, pumping it up and down, as she thrusts. "so needy." you swiped your thumb on the sensitive head, making her squirm.
"wan' fuck your mouth," she whined, getting off of you for a second as she took the space beside you. "please?"
"so cute when you beg," you pumped her a couple of times, as you trailed your kisses from her chest to her stomach. she was whining, holding you by the hair as she makes you a makeshift ponytail. you licked the head of her cock, and she moans loudly. "so cute."
you finally let her fuck your mouth, the big length just sliding in and out of your throat, the tip reaching parts of your mouth you've never known before. momo knows that you were choking, but that doesn't stop her, as she pulled you down by the head to take on her 9 inch length.
"god," she stills, letting her cock pulse fully inside of your mouth. "you're so fucking good, baby."
she finally pulls out, flipping you over with her big strong arms as she kisses your neck once more. "tell me what you want, baby," she whispered. "i need you to let me fuck you like the little bitch you are."
"make me cum," you held onto her hand that was kneading your breast. "please, momo, i don't care how many times- just-"
she kisses you on the lips once more, making you shut up. "don't worry about it."
she trailed her kisses from your chest to the waistband of your panties, spreading your legs and putting it on her shoulders.
"needy little bitch, all for me," she tapped on your arousal that seeped through your panties a couple of times, which made you squirm, your thighs closing on her head. she spreads them once more, removing your panties, and now, the wetness of it glistens in front of her. she takes a long stripe from your hole to your clit, making you hold onto her hair. "and you're delicious. can't wait to eat you all night."
she latches her mouth on your clit, looking at you with utmost adoration and lust as you come apart on her tongue. she laps, circles, and plays around with it, making you moan and strut your hips to meet her tongue. she couldn't be more happier when you begged more.
"momo, fuck," you moaned out, her lips still closed and sucking your clit. "fingers, please."
she happily complies, her fingers teasing the outside of your folds, getting it wet enough to be inserted. she puts two of her fingers inside, licking at your clit, as she moves it in and out to hit your g-spot so deliciously.
"mmgh! holy shit, momo," you closed your eyes in the ecstasy of her pleasure. "more, fuck," you rutted your hips, her fingers going faster. "ah."
she pulls away, smirking as she pumps her fingers faster, now she latches on your nipple, stimulating the hard nub, as she makes you come apart on her fingers.
your juices were overflowing on her hand as she went and used her thumb to make circles on your clit. "momo!" you held onto her biceps as she kissed you on the neck. "fuck, fuck," you were becoming sensitive, with the way she was holding and fucking you with her fingers. "momo, i'm gonna-" you held onto her tightly, feeling the heat building up from your pussy.
"cum for me," she whispers, the thumb on your clit teasing you further. "cum, baby."
"fuck!" you screamed, squirting on her hand. you felt your arousal trickle on her hand, to her bed, but you felt something different. it was momo's cum, white, spurted, on your thigh. "did my baby cum untouched with that, huh?" you teased as you pumped her cock, and was surprised that it wasn't even half hard. it was still hard, ready to be inside of you.
"don't worry," you went on top of her, your hands directly touching her toned stomach, as you glide your wetness on her length. "can't wait to have your big cock inside of me," you moaned, lining up her wet cock to your hole. "mmgh," you slowly sit on it, the girth already stretching you out enough. "so fucking big, baby."
she held your arms, as you tried to sit down on her cock. slowly, you ride her, her length not fully in. she was getting impatient, so she rolled you two over, slamming her cock inside of you fully.
she lets you feel her cock inside of you, almost kissing your cervix with how big it is.
"so tight," she thrusts, holding you by the waist, fucking into you slowly to get you loosened up. "fuck, is it your first time?"
"no," you let yourself sway with her, already trembling with how big she was. "it's just that you're so big..."
"hmm, i know," she kisses you once more, a little gentle, as she tries to thrust in and out slowly. "just tell me if you're good already, hm? don't want to destroy my sweetheart like that."
you wrapped your arms around her and you smiled, "get rough with me," you whispered, your mouth forming into an 'o' as her thrusts fasten. "make me your bitch, come on- ah," you moaned, holding onto her biceps. "fuck, use that fucking cock."
"g'nna destroy your little cunt, baby," she moans, holding you by the waist, thrusting as your back arches to her touch. "i'm too big for you," she growls, putting her hand above the spot where she feels her cock bulge. "taking me so fucking well."
you continued to writhe below her, as she pumps her cock, in and out, your pleasure spot getting battered as you let out spurts of your arousal.
"you're so wet," she says, pulling out completely, and turning you over. she tucked a few pillows on your chest, letting you lean onto it as you're now positioned by her on fours. "i want you to stay like this. can you, baby?"
"hmm," you moaned, feeling your juices trickle down to the bedsheets. "fuck..."
"you're making a mess," she laughs, rubbing your folds languidly, as she inserted herself once more, shocking you. you were tighter, "you're gonna squirt on my cock, aren't you, messy girl?'
she went and rubbed your hardened clit, making you squirm and grip her sheets as you whined, screamed, and shouted her name.
she continues to thrust, fast, as she slaps your ass. "fucking slut, always having your ass out when you're at the bakery," she closes her eyes and remembered the times that your ass confined into your clothes too much as she squeezed on it, spreading it apart. "you've been wanting someone to fuck you like this, haven't you, hm?"
"yes, yes!" you screamed, holding onto her sheets as you slammed your hips back in time with hers. she pulls you to her by your hair, and she wrapped her arms around you as she thrusts, her fingers once again creating tight circles on your wet clit.
she huffs, kissing your neck once more, leaving a mark as she held you by the waist, thrusting uncontrollably when she felt your pussy walls pulse against her.
"momo," you moaned, weakly, as you leaned into her touch. "fuck, momo, fuck me more," you whined. "please-"
she pushed you gently again, making you go on fours, as she thrusts, faster than she was before, pumping her wet length in and out of you.
"am i fucking in you enough, huh," she asks in short breaths, her wet skin on your wet skin as you moaned onto her pillows. "so fucking tight, baby," she grunts, feeling your arousal grow by the minute. "cum for me."
you squirted as she continued to thrust, fucking your overused pussy as it pulsed.
"take it." she thrusts, slow, as she makes you feel her pulse. her warm liquid covers your inner walls, as she falls on top of you. "fuck," she pulls out, letting herself soften outside of you. she went and admired her work, your hole filled with her cum, dripping to your clit, but she was fast as she used her tongue to put it back in. she went back to you, making you come back to a laying position, and she makes you rest on her chest. "w's that good, baby?"
you nod against her warm chest, looking up at her. "so good," you smiled, kissing her cheek. "thank you, momo."
she chuckled, "that's nothing," she says. "how are you? did i get too rough? sorry if i d-"
"i told you, right?" you chuckled, holding her hand. "so no, you're not too much."
"well," she blushed still, as she Interlocked her fingers with yours. "what about a proper date?"
"maybe, that's too late to ask," you chuckled. "i mean, you already have me here, you know?"
she laughs, "just wanted to make sure." she kisses your forehead.
maybe, your year isn't that bad at all.
387 notes · View notes
patrophthia · 1 year
Text
red ears, and redder strings | theodore n.
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pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader
genre: red string soulmate!au, fluff, slight humor, slight very slight angst, confused feelings, unrequited love but also not really?, not beta read
wc: 7.2k
this is a request ! thank you anon!! it’s so cute i loved writing this :>
there’s two OC, one of them is named mark, hufflepuff (based off of nct mark, i love that lil canadian guy) and elio. i also wrote theodore based off of nct’s jaehyun and sungchan hehe.
taglist: @mersmoon @pleasingregulus @l--absinthe
"I'm going to need a favour from you," I say first, his eye brows rising slightly at my words. "I need you to keep us being soulmates a secret."
"It's not you, I promise," I added quickly. "I'm sure you're a great guy, you're very handsome too but I'm just— I can't just let faith decide on who I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. It's like I don't have a choice with what goes on in my life; and I can't ... have that."
"So I'm begging you, please," I plead. "Please, don't tell anyone about what we are."
"I can pay you." I offered. And If Nott wasn't so caught off guards by how I was able to say the exact things he had planned to say 30 minutes before, he would've laugh at the prospect of being paid when he already had a fortune in his hands. "I don't have much but I could also do your work for the year, just don't," I pause, "tell anyone until I'm ready, please."
Theodore won't admit it but he feels impress. Because deep down, the Slytherin in him would've never been able to beg for something the way I'd just beg of him. And if he wasn't so taken aback by how I basically read his mind, he would've said something more coherent than: "Okay."
"Okay." I repeated his words, nodding. And even though he didn't audibly give me a reason to trust him on it, I knew that he meant it.
A part of me thinks that that must've been why we were soulmates because why else would I so blindly trust him on this secret of ours.
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Tug. Tug. Tug. Blaise has been tugging at Theodore's pinky for the last five minutes now. Doing it over and over just to get a rise out of the brunet. But Theodore, quite honestly, couldn't care less as he watched the string tied around his pinky finger bounce with each pull of Zabini's hand.
Blaise, like the menace he is, enjoys bothering his best friend by pulling at the red string of his, but seeing as he couldn't actually see the string, the Slytherin has settled with just laying on Theodore's bed and repeatedly pulling at his pinky which sported the string instead.
"Honestly Nott, why are you so against finding your soulmate? We both know they're in this school so why won't you just make the effort to find them?" Blaise asks, pulling at his pale pinky once more. "Here I am, balls deep into finding mine and I find out that they're all the way in Durmstrang. Do you realise just how lucky you are?"
"Zabini stop," their other dorm mate, Elio, tsked. "Maybe he's just not ready to find them yet."
Blaise turns from his position on Theodore's bed to look at Elio. Retorting, "or maybe he just doesn't want to find them?"
"And that's okay," Elio replied with a roll of his eyes. "I'm sure he has a reason."
Blaise's attention shifts back to Theodore. "And that is?"
Theodore clears his throat, "I just don't want one."
Blaise squints his eyes, "uh huh," he lets out in disbelief. "Somehow I don't believe that."
"Okay," he murmurs, "I just don't like the concept of soulmates."
"And that's all to it?" Elio asks, fixing his tie as he listens into Theodore and Blaise's conversation.
"Yes." And when neither Blaise nor Elio seemed to believe him, he added. "And I'm tired of people pretending to be my soulmate despite the fact that I could clearly see they aren't."
"People have done that?" Elio asked, perplexed at the complex.
"For the right price people would do anything." Theodore mumbled, and when he noticed that Elio was heading out the door, he asked. "Where are you going?"
"I'm meeting Mark at the library," Elio says with a blissful smile. "I'll see you at dinner."
When Elio finally leaves, Blaise turns to Theodore with a dumbfounded look. "Mark?"
Theodore feels his pinky being pulled once more. "His soulmate."
On the other side of the castle, Mark watches as I throw my head on the table —albeit, dramatically, a groan slipping from my lips. Mark giggles, his nose scrunching along with it as he asks me what was wrong.
I lift my left hand up and into his line of sight, his giggles turning into a full blown laugh as my pinky pulls itself over and over in the same direction. "They're doing it again?"
"They're doing it again," I mumbled, lifting my head back up to look at my finger. "It's so annoying. I'm going to punch their face in the second I see them."
"That's a bit extreme," Mark says lightly. "Just tell them to stop doing it or something."
"Why do that when I can result to violence." I replied, tugging at the string as a sign for them to stop. "They do it all the time, it's so irritating."
"Well at least you know they're close by," Mark states, going back to his book. "Or else you wouldn't be able to even feel their pulls."
"Yeah." I nodded. "I guess that's something."
"What?" Mark asks, sensing a slight shift in the atmosphere. "Do you not want to find them?"
I shrug, "not really."
"Why not?" Mark follows up, abandoning his work completely.
"I just think that I shouldn't let the universe decide on who I spend the rest of my life with, is all," I say. "I want to make that decision myself."
Mark nods, humming, "I see where you're coming from." Understanding as ever. "But I also think it's nice that there's someone out there who will always be by your side no matter what, whether it be platonic or romantic, you know?"
"But that's not guaranteed, is it?" I counter. "I've heard stories where people found their soulmates but they didn't care for one another at all. I mean, at the end of the day, soulmates can't actually be soulmates if one doesn't reciprocate the other's feelings. So why try finding them at all if you're going to find out that they want nothing to do with you?"
"But what if they do," Mark argued.
"But what if they don't."
Mark sighs, "and if they do?"
"And if they don't—"
"Hi." I was cut off. "Shit! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you," says Elio, eyes wide and apologetic. "What were you guys talking about?"
"Soulmates actually," Mark says with a smile, his pupils dilating at the sight of Elio. "Why are you here?"
Mark and Elio found out that they were each other's soulmate on the train ride over. Elio couldn't find his friend's carriage on the Hogswart Express and we were lucky enough to have empty space for the Slytherin.
"I wanted to see if you wanted to have dinner with me," Elio says. "And I also wanted you to meet my friends."
Who were, if I remembered correctly, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott.
"Oh," Mark glances at me, then back at Elio. "This afternoon?"
"Yeah," Elio nodded. And I sense that he wanted to add 'when else' but held back against it. "At the Slytherin table, Is that okay?"
"Sure," Mark says, nodding quickly. "I'll see you."
Elio breaks into a smile, bidding a goodbye as he turns on his heels. "You're coming with me," Mark says the second Elio was far enough to not overhear us. "No arguments."
Two Hufflepuffs sitting idly chatting with four well known Slytherins must've been a weird sight for anyone that passes by. But Mark was having a fun time and that's all that matters.
Or to me at least. Mark sat to my left, with Elio sitting opposite him. Zabini was on my right, with Malfoy in front of him; leaving Nott right in front of me.
"Are you taking potions?" Zabini asks, trying to make conversation, seeing as Mark and Elio were the only people in this table who actually knew one another.
"Yep," I replied, placing my utensils down. "Are you?"
"The four of us are," Malfoy snickered. "At least there's two more tolerable people in that class with us."
Glad to know Malfoy found Mark and I tolerable. "So . . ." I drew out, thinking of anything we could chat about. "What did you guys do this summer?"
"Blaise dragged us to Europe to find his soulmate," Malfoy answered bitterly.
"Oh." The better part of me was intrigued, wanting to know if he did find them. I turned to Zabini beside me. "Did you find them?"
"No," he says, a slightly disappointed look on his face. "Too many students at Durmstrang and too little time."
"Well there's always next year," I say, trying to encourage him.
Zabini hums in agreement. "What about you? Have you found yours yet?"
Elio called out my name before I could answer his friend, and when I turned to him, he held out a goblet filled with pumpkin juice for me to take. Reaching for the glass, I felt a tug at my pinkie but paid no heed to it as I took the goblet from Elio's hand. Resting it on the table, my eyes caught onto a twinkle of red glowing right in front of me.
With furrowed brows, my line of sight found its way to the seat opposing mine, and along with it, the person who took the spot. Red string wrapped around his left pinkie, just like mine. Glowing slightly under the candle light.
Realisation settles in as I slowly look up at Nott, taking in his blank wide eyed expression that seemed to be processing the same information as I was.
Just to be sure, my hand reaches upwards to rub at my eyes before my vision falls back once more to my left pinkie, then the red string that connects me to the boy right in front of me.
Theodore Nott was my soulmate.
"Can you pass me the salt?" Malfoy asks Nott from his side, causing the brunet to break out of his trance.
Our eyes met for the briefest second, unspoken understanding warming up within me. And when Nott shifts his attention to where the salt currently resides, the tip of his ears shined as red as the string tethering us to one another.
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The Marauders map is a great stalker tool to have. I didn't have it per se, but I knew people who did and they were kind enough to lend it to me when I needed it. I owe Harry a favour for this.
My eyes glance between the footsteps on the map tagged: Theodore Nott, and the corridor in front of me. Trying to be as quiet as I could with each corner I turn, if I were to get caught chasing some guy who seemed to be coming my direction at eleven P.M at night then who knows the kind of punishment I would get.
Theodore was walking with purpose when I found him. He walked with enough purpose for me to need to jog after him just to catch up. A hand latches onto his wrist, pulling him into one of the many secret corridors Hogswart held.
"Hi," I said breathlessly, panting as I watched him decide between fighting or flighting. He seemed to have found me harmless, settling on just gazing down at me instead. "Just give me a second to catch my breath."
There were many things he didn't say, just observing as I tried to calm myself down. I noticed a few things then about him, he was tall, lanky even, his doe eyes and hair the direct contrast of his pale skin, and his jawline was sharp enough to cut through wood.
"Uhm—" I stood up to my full height and found that I had to peer up at him. Freakishly tall motherfucker. "—I'm not going to waste your time by beating around the bush, so I'm just going to spill it."
"Actually I needed to have a word with you," he murmurs. And I have to reel myself over because that must've been the first time I heard him speak.
"Well, I found you first so I speak first," I tell him with a tight lip smile. "You can speak after okay? Okay."
His eyes squinted and I could tell that he was frustrated with not being able to get his words in.
"I'm going to need a favour from you," I say first, his eye brows rising slightly at my words. "I need you to keep us being soulmates a secret."
"It's not you, I promise," I added quickly. "I'm sure you're a great guy, you're very handsome too but I'm just— I can't just let fate decide on who I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. It's like I don't have a choice with what goes on in my life; and I can't ... have that."
"So I'm begging you, please," I plead. "Please, don't tell anyone about what we are."
"I can pay you." I offered. And If Nott wasn't so caught off guard by how I was able to say the exact things he had planned to say 30 minutes before, he would've laughed at the prospect of being paid when he already had a fortune in his hands. "I don't have much but I could also do your work for the year, just don't," I pause, "tell anyone until I'm ready, please."
Theodore won't admit it but he feels impressed. Because deep down, the Slytherin in him would've never been able to beg for something the way I'd just beg of him. And if he wasn't so taken aback by how I basically read his mind, he would've said something more coherent than: "Okay."
"Okay." I repeated his words, nodding. And even though he didn't audibly give me a reason to trust him on it, I knew that he meant it.
A part of me thinks that that must've been why we were soulmates because why else would I so blindly trust him on this secret of ours.
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Platonic soulmates. That's what Theodore and I decided on. Well not really, Theodore had brought up the idea of cutting our soulmate ties completely with a spell he'd found but the Hufflepuff in me couldn't actually go through with the idea so we decided on platonic soulmates. Or just classmates who are hiding a secret that would blow up in their faces if anyone found out.
Hogsmeade weekend came faster this year; Mark and I (along with four other Slytherins who'd found their way into our friend group) were lucky enough to make the trip.
It hasn't begun snowing yet, although the weather sure felt like it. The temperature was warmer this morning, which was why I found it unnecessary to bring my jacket, and now, in hindsight, I see that that was a terrible idea.
It was getting late, and the weather was not getting warmer at all. "Dude, are you okay?" Mark asks. Dude must sound weird to the other four pure bloods. But dude, to me, was Mark showing that he cared for me. "You've been shivering for the past five minutes."
"I'm fine," I say, a clear lie and we all know it. "I'll just cast a warming spell, don't worry."
Mark's brow furrowed, "are you sure? Here—" he shrugs off his coat, "—just wear mine."
I didn't have to look around to know that the four Slytherin were watching us. And under any other circumstances I would gladly take Mark's jacket, but that was a somewhat intimate thing to do. Especially in front of his soulmate, so, like the civilised person I am, I shook my head and cast a warming spell on myself.
"Dude stop being stubborn, you're literally freezing."
"And I look good doing it so just take your coat, Mark." I argued.
"Okay then." He sighs. "If that's what you want."It's not. Mark pulls his coat back on as he continues walking down the Hogsmeade streets with the rest of us behind him and Elio. "So where should we go next?"
A grasp on my elbow, takes my attention away from Malfoy's answer to Mark's question. I look down, finding slim hands holding onto me. My gaze trails upward to find Theodore who had halted both our steps as he shrugs off his coat.
The brunet nudges it forward, wordlessly offering it for me to take. And when I shook my head, feeling uneasy at the prospect of making him suffer the harsh weather if I did take his jacket. He insists: "It's fine," he says, nudging it forward once more, the red string on his pinkie clear as ever. "I run hot."
"And is cold blooded," Zabini snickered to receive a glare from Nott. I stifled a giggle, finally feeling at ease with the two of them. Zabini's demeanour seems to soften at my half assed attempt to hide a laugh, and tells me to: "Just take it."
Okay. Fine. I will take it. The cold was biting my ass anyways. I reached out for the jacket but was pleasantly surprised when Nott helped me into it instead. "Thank you," I murmured.
Theodore, or at least his coat, smells like a combination of things that I could only assume he likes; things like: the sea, books whether it be old or new, earl grey tea, bearded irises, and vanilla.
Nott only hums at my gratitude, listening back into Mark's conversation with Malfoy.
"You never did tell me whether you found your soulmate yet," Zabini says suddenly. "Have you?"
"No," I answered, and unlike earlier, he actually believes in this lie of mine. "And I'm not really looking for one either."
"Funny," Blaise says with a mischievous smile. "That's what Nott also said." Not exactly, but it was something along that line. "Are you sure you're not each other's soulmate?"
From the corner of my eyes, I spy the tip of Theodore's ears flushing. The pink contrasting his dark features adorably. His face showed no emotion, his brown doe eyes rolling with feign annoyance. "I'm pretty sure I'd know my soulmate if I saw them as often as I see her, Zabini."
"Wish it were that easy," I mumbled, adding onto the illusion of us not being tied to each other.  "I'll let you know when I find out who they are though."
"Really?" He says testingly.
"If you're so invested in it then yes."
He smirks, "let's hope you keep your promise then, princess."
Little did Zabini know, his promise had already been broken.
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Faith must've been playing some kind of sick joke. I knew that I'd be taking potions with the four Slytherin, but for me to be studying a love potion on the first day I had class with my 'soulmate' was just plain evil.
And I think, something along the lines of Professor Slughorn making Nott and I be the first to take a gander at the potion, to smell it and to describe what it smelled like to us, was even more cruel.
A glance at Nott, and another at the brewing pot in front of us, had me taking in a deep breath as I prepared myself for what's to come. I took a step forward, Nott to my side, and leaned forward to take a sniff at the potion.
The first round of scents were pleasant, home cooked meals, the smell of my clean room after a tiring day, my favourite snack and the likes of it. Then the second waft of the potion hits and I wondered whether it was what I was actually attracted to or what I was supposed to be attracted to since all I could smell was nothing but Nott.
Or at least the scent of his coat; sea salt, books, vanilla and a hint of his (what I think is) argan oil shampoo, which I assumed I could only smell because he was so close by.
"So?" Professor Slughorn egged us on with a smile. "Tell us what you smell."
Nott and I shared a look and I knew then that we could only smell one another. "The sea," I took the initiative to speak first. "Vanilla."
"Is that all?" Asks the Professor. "Is there a special someone you smell?"
Yes. Is what I didn't say, only shaking my head as I nudged at Nott's side for him to speak next.
"I'm sorry Professor but I couldn't really smell anything." Nott says barely above a whisper.
Professor Slughorn's furrowed his brows in concern. Did Nott not have something he loved? "Nothing at all?"
"Not really," the Slytherin murmurs. "I could only smell her."
Her?
Oh.
Me. I'm her.
Okay.
"Really?" Slughorn murmurs, clearly fascinated. "Well isn't that interesting?"
Nott only hums, moving away from the pot and as I turned with him, my eyes caught onto the pink tinged on his ears. Cute.
I couldn't even take a step towards my desk when Zabini swept me away, Malfoy by his side. Zabini smiles widely at my curious expression, and I wonder for a second if Nott has broken his promise and told them about our secret. Cautiously, I asked him. "What?"
"We need a favour."
"No." Was my first and final answer. Zabini only frowns, not the slightest bit faltering his quest. "I need you to steal Theodore away for a day." He says, instead. I shook my head, repeating myself, "No."
"Oh come on," Blaise pouts, "his birthday's this Sunday and we want to throw him a small surprise party."
"Which won't be a surprise if he was there," Malfoy adds unnecessarily.
"Why can't you be the one to distract him or whatever you're planning on making me do?"
"Because he'll suspect it," Malfoy answers with a roll of his eyes. "Nott's smart, he'll get suspicious of us."
"And he won't get suspicious of me?" I retorted.
"I haven't thought that through actually," Blaise murmurs. "But! We need all hands on deck to plan the party and fill it up with things he likes."
"And I can't help with that?" I ask.
Malfoy rolls his eyes. "What do you know about Nott?"
That he is my soulmate. But besides that, quite literally nothing. Okay. One point to Malfoy and Zabini, I guess. I sigh, slowly accepting my defeat. "What about Mark?"
"Mark's going to help us set up with Elio."
"Why can't you ask for the house elves to set it up for you?"
"Why can't you stop asking us questions?" Malfoy snaps.
I turn to the blond, my expression sour. "Hey you're the one asking me for a favour here, I don't think you can afford to be a bitch to me right now."
Malfoy rolls his eyes again, more attitude than ever. "So you're going to do it?"
"I never said—"
"Great!" Blaise cuts me off. "Have Theo out by ten A.M and have him back by six P.M, okay?" He says excited, and yet not loud enough for Nott, who had been sitting three desks away from our conversation to hear. "Okay! And if you guys do anything, please use protection we're way to young to have kids—"
"Oh fuck off." With a chuckle, Zabini finally leaves me alone, dragging Malfoy with him. With the two Slytherins no longer in sight, my eyes drift towards the only empty desk left and make my way towards it.
One, two, table passes, until I finally reach an empty seat and I find myself meeting eyes with Theodore. His face remains stone cold as ever, only looking at me blankly. He didn't have to say it for me to know that was curious about what his friends had said to me.
Setting my stuff down, I sat beside him and I found myself mustering up the courage to go through with Zabini and Malfoy's favour. "Hey," I start, Nott now giving me his undivided attention. "Do you want to go out this weekend?"
His expression changes for the slightest second that if I hadn't been watching him, I'd have missed it. "I thought we agreed on keeping it platonic."
"Yeah," I agreed quickly. "And that's not going to change anytime soon. Think of this as us bonding as platonic soulmates."
He guessed he owed me that, which was why he stood outside of the Hufflepuff's Common Room idly, waiting for me to come out and get on with our soulmates bonding day.
A smile came across my lips when I spotted him, looking as out of place as possible. "Hi," I said, going up to him. Theodore didn't bother replying, only standing tall as he waited for me to lead the way.
The ride to Hogsmeade was awkward —as to be expected from two people who knew little to nothing about one another. Theodore climbed out of the carriage first, offering a hand to help me off of the ride.
Before we began our journey, Theodore caught onto my wrist with his right hand, his left reaching for his wand and wordlessly, he casted a warming up spell on me.
"Thank you." I'd be lying if I said that it didn't have an effect on me. "So where should we go?"
His lips pursed, thinking. "You didn't plan anything?"
"Not really." This favour was a last minute thing, I didn't have time to actually plan things out. "I thought we could just walk around and look at things."
Theodore wasn't the easiest to read, but I knew from the shift in his features that he was judging me. He then nudges his head to the side. "Let's get you something to eat."
Theodore took me to a bakery by the end of Hogsmeade, the shop was heavily vanilla scented, people coming in and out every second. Nott ordered a vanilla danish, then another when he looked at my face.
I ordered my pastries, and reached into my bag for the sickles I needed. Before I could actually get it out though, Theodore was already pulling me to the side, mumbling a "don't bother" as the next customer made their order.
I frown, handing out the few sickles I owed towards him, he took a glance at my hand, then back to my face. "What did I just say?"
"I can't just let you pay for me."
He didn't say anything, but his expression alone suggests that he won't be taking my money anytime soon.
"Seriously, dude, I can't just let you pay for me."
"Let's go," Theodore deflects, taking a parcel filled with our purchases when the shop's clerk handed it out to us.
I followed after him, not before attempting to shove my money into his pockets and failing to do so when he shifted away from me. "You're being rude."
"Oh I'm being rude?" Theodore scoffs, and I think that that must've been the first time I hear real emotions in his voice. "For paying for you?"
"Yeah," I replied. "Paying for someone is only nice when they want you to pay for them."
"Well," he murmurs. "What's so wrong with me paying for you when you want me to pay for you."
"Don't gaslight me!"
Theodore smiles at my word, a small laugh bubbling out of him. "I'm doing no such things." And then, he adds in a mocking manner, "dude."
What an ass.
I led Theodore towards The Three Broomsticks, if he wasn't going to take my money then I'll just have to get him something in return. I ordered two butterbeers as he began unwrapping our pastries.
He handed mine to me and dug into his vanilla danish. A minute passes, the two of us eating in silence and I wondered if I should've just taken him to a movie instead, maybe then it'd be less awkward.
The butter beer arrives and I took a sip, wiping my lips with the back of my hand right after. "You have a little something—" my finger points towards my upper lips "—there."
He made quick work in wiping it off, eyes casting down as he turned his head to pick up a tissue paper. His red ears made a reappearance then, embarrassed as ever.
After we finished our meals, Theodore excuses himself as he heads towards the bathroom. I think then that this was the perfect opportunity; I called out to one of the shop's clerks and when they approached, I asked for the check.
The shop clerk, an elderly lady, frowns, "what are you talking about, love? Your boyfriend already covered it."
What? "I'm sorry, you must've gotten me mixed up with another table, I haven't paid yet."
"No?" She frowns. "The brunet, pale, about ye height—" the woman gestures over her head "—isn't with you?"
With me, yes. Boyfriend, no. "Did he pay?"
"Yes," she smiles, "just a second ago really."
If I could scream out of frustration I would. I glared at Theodore when he returned, he seemed to know what had happened as he walked with pride.
"You're not as smart as you think you are," he says, grabbing his things. "I knew what you were thinking."
"Well." I stood up, gathering my things as well. "What am I thinking right now?"
"What an ass I am." Smart ass.
"Lucky guest." I murmur.
"Is it now?" He replied testingly, taking my things from my hands.
I squint my eyes, looking at him threateningly. "I will destroy you, Theodore Nott."
"I'd like to see you try." The amount of stuff in his hands made him look ridiculous, walking out of the inn with little to no expression at all when he adds: "soulmate."
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I returned Theodore to his friends by six, having snuck into the ladies room to send a patronus to Mark before doing so. Not a minute goes by when his patronus returns, a cheetah opening up its mouth to cheerfully say: "Okay dude, We're ready for you!"
I did what was asked of me and brought him to the room of requirements, Theodore trailed after me, clearly confused but never uttering a word about it.
Once we arrived in front of the door, I turn to meet his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me today was your birthday?"
He blinks. "It wasn't important."
"Your birthday isn't important to you?"
"No." He murmurs. "Why are we here?"
I push the door open, and it takes him a few seconds to realise what had happened. Elio jumps out, Mark by his side screaming as loudly as they could "happy birthday!"
Theodore stares at them for a bit before turning to me, "is that why you spent the day with me?" He asks first. "They put you up to this?"
If I heard disappointment in his tone, I didn't let it get to me. Mustering up a small smile, I push him towards his friends. "Enjoy your party, Theo."
Elio and Blaise swept him away, pulling him towards one of the corners where the snacks were placed. My expression must've been telling, of what exactly, I didn't know. But Mark seems to notice it, asking me in a quiet hush. "Are you okay?"
I nod distractedly. "Yup, why wouldn't I be?"
"I don't know," Mark frowns, "you look a little off."
I smile at him. Mark knows me better than I knew myself. "I'm fine," I reassured him, "just a little tired."
"Okay," Mark says, leaving it at that with a sceptical look. "Let's get you something to drink."
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"Was today just a ruse to get me away from the castle?"
Theodore had found me an hour after we arrived, looking distracted as ever when he handed over a slice of cake he'd saved for me.
"What?"
"You didn't actually want to bond with me, did you?"
I thought over my options, should I lie to him or just let him know the truth. Deciding on the latter, I tell him: "yeah, Zabini and Malfoy asked me to—" the clench in his jaw caught my attention "—wait, are you upset?"
Truthfully, Theodore says, "yes."
To say I was baffled was an understatement. "Why? What's wrong? Do you not like the party?"
"No," he counters. "It's not the party, the party's fine."
A beat passes by, Theodore hesitating. And then, finally, he says. "It's you."
"Me?" Have I done something to upset him? "Did I say something—"
"I thought you wanted to spend the day with me."
"I'm sorry." I'm not sure why exactly I was apologising but it felt like the right thing to do. "But to be fair, you didn't actually want to spend the day with me, did you?"
He avoids my eyes and I knew then that things can no longer be platonic. "I think you should leave before I do something idiotic."
"Like?"
"Kiss you."
How does one respond to that? His ears aren't red this time round. The look on his face is torn between hesitancy and distress. And I was stupid enough to reach up to him, a palm cradling his face, meeting his dark eyes.
A second passes and when he doesn't make to move away, I stand up to the tip of my toes and press my lips onto his. Theodore leans down, easing the strain of my neck as he kisses back without missing a beat.
A bump of the nose causes us to pull back, looking at one another with wide blown eyes before a subtle glow catches our attention. Tied to our pinkies, the string glows red, a shot of spark passing from his end towards mine only for it to lose its light when none comes from my side to ignite it.
What the spark means exactly, I didn't know. But I will not spend another second waiting around to see what it might meant. "That was a mistake," I say quickly, gathering my things. "Goodnight, Theodore."
I didn't know why I didn't notice it at first, but as I walked away, slice of cake in hand; the feel of plastic beneath the cake caught me off guard. I bring it into my eyesight, a vanilla danish neatly wrapped with a note attached to its side.
It seems like you've got me wrapped around your finger. Do me a favour and don't let it linger.
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Blaise had a theory. And that theory consists of his two friends who had yet to find their soulmates. Or so they say.
Gathered around the room of requirement were the same people who attended Theodore's birthday party, give or take five people less.
Blaise stands in the middle of the room, the rest of us lounging on the sofa as we watch him speak. "Come here you," he points at Theodore, then he turns to me, "you as well."
My nerves gets the better part of me, causing me to glance at Theodore for help despite knowing that we were both drowning in the same boat. Did Blaise know about us being soulmates? Did Theodore tell him about it? Maybe I shouldn't have trusted him so blindly.
"You two," he says loudly. "Have been lying to us!" And then, a few notches down, he adds, "I think."
My brows furrowed, feigning innocence. "How so?"
Like a magician, he lifts up his hand dramatically, then grabs Theodore's pale hand in it. And in my eyes, the string was as visible as ever. I think I know where he was going with this and there's nothing to prepare me for what's to come next.
"Pay attention to her fingers okay?" Blaise instructs. I feel faint, dizzy, all the adjectives for nauseousness as each second passes by. "Her soulmate pinkie to be exact."
This is it. This is when they find out and Mark hates me for the rest of his life because I didn't tell him I'd found my soulmate.
Mark frowns, his bottom lips caught in his teeth as he watches on sceptically.
Blaise pulls at Theodore's pinkie, the same exact motion he'd done on end for the last couple of months. And, just like it had before, my finger pulls to Theodore's direction. Blaise pulls at it again and the same set of motions repeats itself.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Elio spoke first.
"Well," I began, everyone's attention turning to me. "Because, it's not your fucking business." Mark stifles a laugh at my words. "Theodore and I chose to keep it a secret for a reason."
"And that reason is?" Malfoy chimes in.
I didn't have to say anything for Theodore to know what I wanted them to know. "We didn't want soulmates."
"And now?" Blaise follows up. "Do you still not want soulmates?"
"Honestly?" I say. "I don't know."
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It takes Theodore five seconds to note Mark's arrival at the Slytherin table. And it takes him another three seconds to notice that I wasn't there with them.
Mark chats animatedly with Elio, not once pausing to explain my lack of appearance at tonight's dinner.
Maybe they've grown too fond of me, or maybe Blaise likes me more than Theo thought he did, because he was quick to ask Mark where I was. "Doll's, not having dinner with us tonight?"
"No." Mark didn't even bat an eyelash at the pet name Blaise used. "She caught a cold and asked me to bring her something when I get back."
Theodore eyebrow's knit together curiously. "She's not in the infirmary?"
If the people at the table noticed the hint of concern in his voice, they didn't show it. Well —everyone except Mark that is. A gasp falls from his lips, staring at Theodore with wide eyes. Did he fancy his best friend?
Mark catches himself, shaking his head as he explained. "She said that it was just a common cold and that it'll go away soon. She didn't want to waste Madam Pomfrey's time when she could be focusing on something more pressing."
And when Theodore's eyes narrows. Mark feels the need to clarify himself. "Her words, not mine."
Theodore stands up then, excusing himself as he tells Mark not to worry about me and that he'll get something for me to eat. Mark didn't even get a chance to remind him about my meds before he slipped away and into the kitchens.
Mark didn't stress over it though, something in him knew that Theodore would not forget my medications.
A set of knocks lands on my door, approximately fifteen minutes later. And with a groggy "come in" from my bed; the door clicks open, Theodore standing behind it with a tray of food floating behind him.
"Theo?" I rub my eyes, unsure of what I was seeing. "What are you doing here?"
"Mark tells me you're sick." Did he? "So I brought you dinner." That's ... nice of him to do.
Theodore stands awkwardly by the door, not stepping an inch into a room. A part of me wonders if he was a vampire, waiting to be formally invited in before he could actually do anything. "You can come in."
The tray of food floats over first, resting just on top of my bedside table. Theodore follows in after it, staying a few feet away from my bed. "Wait, who let you in? Through the barrels and stuff?"
"No one in particular." He says. "They left the entrance open."
That was the hufflepuff way of doing things.
"Well thank you." My palm lays flat on my bed, pushing all of my body weight to a seating position. "For this. I know you'd rather spend the night doing something more fun than doing Mark a favour."
Theodore frowns, coming over to my side. "Mark didn't ask me to do this," he tells me; his hand carefully reaching for my arm, the other pressing against the small of my back to help me sit up properly. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
My attempt to resist teasing him was futile, even sick and on the verge of dying, I still think that Theodore's reaction to things —if there was one that is— was adorable. "Awh, did you miss me?"
Theodore didn't bother to say no. He didn't have to, it was clear by the hesitant look on his face that he did miss me. Even if I'd only just seen him yesterday.
"You should eat," he says instead, the glimpse of his tinging red ears not missed by me when he handed me a glass of water. "Drink this, eat, then take your medications."
A roll of my eyes paired with an 'I know' has him standing straight. And somehow, I get the feeling that he thinks he might've overstepped my boundaries. Not knowing what to say —or do for that matter, I settled on telling him: "thank you, again. I really appreciate it, Theo."
Theodore hums and we could both sense that our conversation was ending, but, strangely enough, despite never knowing what to say in front of him, I can't seem to just let him slip away tonight.
A glance at the tray Theo brought, then another back at him, had me asking a question I might be regretting minutes later. "Have you eaten, Theo?"
His eyes fell down onto my hand, the floor, anything but my face. The corner of his lips twists, a small dent in his cheek barely hiding his attempt to bite back a smile. He knew where I was going with this. "No."
A shift to the side, a pat on the empty seat besides me. "Good." I say first. "We can share."
The string tied to our pinkie glows, and this time, unlike the first, the sparks meets in the middle, igniting brighter than it has ever done before.
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Being sick gave me a lot of time to reflect. And even more time for me to realise that me saying 'I don't know' complicates things. Everyone seems to be walking around eggshells when the topic of Theodore and I came up and quite frankly I'm fucking tired of it.
Theodore likes me. We're soulmates. This should be easy. I know how I feel, I can make things work.
Like feels childish. Love feels too strong. Infatuated is what I'm not when it comes to Theodore. I care for him the same way he cares for me. That should say something shouldn't it?
What I recently learned about Theodore is that he takes up an entire table at the library. Just him alone, and the whole table that would usually host four students all because he works in a mess.
"Uhm—" he looks up at me. "—can I sit here?"
He nods and turns back to his book. Not moving a single thing to the side. I sigh, organising his mess to one side and making a mental note to tell him off about it later. But for now, I ought to get my feelings sorted out.
"I wanted to talk to you," I say first. Theo hums, signalling that he was listening to me. "Can you look at me, please?"
He looks up from his page and shoved his book to the side, giving me his full undivided attention.
"I thought about it and I don't want to be platonic soulmates anymore," I tell him.
He looks in thought. "So you came here to say that you want to sever the soulmates connection?"
"No!" I say quickly, eyes wide. "No, not that. At all."
He seems to know what was going to come next, the corner of his lips turning upwards but he stops himself, not wanting to get too excited. "What is it then?"
"I care for you," I tell him. "And if you still care for me, I want to give this soulmate thing a shot."
His eyes soften. "Of course, I still care for you." He replies. "And I'm assuming by care you mean love?"
I pursed my lips, going over what I wanted to say and being careful with how I choose to phrase it. Finally, I decided on: "Not love per se," I say first. "Just us taking a step towards it."
" 'course not," he replies. "Baby steps, right?"
"Right," I say, feeling awkward under his gaze. "Baby steps." And then, I added. "Now if we're going to make this soulmate thing work out we need to actually go out."
He nods. "I'll take you to dinner on Friday then."
"Sure." A smile creeps onto my face. "It's a date." The tip of his ears reddens at my words, cute as ever. "I can't wait to see your cute little butt then."
Theodore fixes me a look between amused and judging, he breaks after a bit, shaking his head with a small chuckle. Incredulously he says, "I can't believe I'm in love with you."
"Woah there dude, you're moving a little fast," I said with a small smile. "Slow it down a bit, will you?"
"Too late, my love." And if I had a small liking towards the guy, my feelings were definitely amplified by his stupidly dumb sense of humour. "I've already gotten your name tattooed on my buttocks."
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— from bee: i havent wrote in so long, this was so fun!! i always love writing theo so this was just a blast hehe
notes/reblog/feedbacks are greatly appreciated!!
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rougecreator1 · 13 days
Note
Hi! How are you doing? I was hoping I could request something with Poly!plastics x reader? After Cady gets brought into the plastics, the reader gets insecure and thinks that her girlfriends will replace her with Cady. She tries to hide it but after the three of talk about Cady on date night she snaps. How you end it is up to you, I was want Poly!plastics x reader to be endgame. Thank you 💘
Insecurities
omg im actually obsessed with this idea
|| poly!plastics x fem!reader
(i myself am poly)
|| Warnings: talks of insecurities, feeling leftout/replaced, some swearing, slight bullying of Cady (sorta?)
|| Summary: Reader feels left out when Cady joins the group: the girls don't notice right away. When date night rolls around and all they seem to talk about is Cady, Reader can't take it.
Requests open!
My requests are open, I'm just only writing when I have motivation to right now so it may take time for me to get to them. Like I think this fic almost took me a month to finish 🥲
~~~
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To say you weren't happy about Cady joining the group would be... an understatement. You felt like all your girlfriends attention was suddenly on the new girl. You hate feeling left out and that's exactly how they were making you feel, even if they didn't realize it.
The five of you sat together at your usual lunch seat, Gretchen and Cady were talking, Karen was kind of just listening to them and occasionally throwing in some comment, Regina was focused on her cheese fries. You? You sat there awkwardly. Awkward around your own girlfriends because of Cady. The fact that none of them were even trying to talk to you. You couldn't take it.
You suddenly stood, holding your lunch tray. Which got their attention. You were about to leave when Karen called your name.
"Y/N? Where are you going?" Karen asked, a slight frown on her lips. You try to hide your insecurities and force out a smile, Gretchen narrows her eyes at you. She could always tell when something was off.
"I was just going to the bathroom." You state.
"With your lunch?" Karen looked confused.
You looked down at the lunch tray in your hands and then glanced at Cady, who was looking at you with concern while you were trying to hide the jealousy in your eyes.
"Oh, um, no I'm not hungry so I was gonna go throw it out then go to the bathroom." You quickly came up with a response, racking your brain for something that made sense. Though now you had to actually throw out your lunch and, truthfully, you weren't really all that hungry. So you felt fine with the lie.
Regina raised an eyebrow at you and seemed to share some look with Gretchen.
You ignored them and followed through with your lie. Heading to the nearest garbage, dumping your tray then putting the now empty tray with the rest before going to the bathroom. There you locked yourself in one of the stalls and sighed deeply, leaning against the back of the door.
Maybe you could have tried a little more to be social. But you didn't feel like you could connect with anything they were talking about. Cady had mostly been leading the conversation. You didn't quite know how to interact with her yet. The two of you didn't have anything in common, that you knew of. So it just always felt awkward to even try.
~~~
It was later that night, you and your girlfriends had planned a date that you'd been working on for months. You were excited it was finally happening. You were going to the theatres and then after all of you would dine at a fancy five star restaurant, all paid for by Regina though the rest of you did chip in what you could. Much to Regina's disliking. She loves spoiling her girls. fight me
As the four of you sat at the table, waiting for your food you found yourself just listening to the conversation again. Not being apart of it. They were talking about Cady. On date night. Fucking Cady. It made your chest twist and heart ache. You couldn't help but feel like in the short amount of time that Cady's been there she's replaced you. The feeling was killing you. You couldn't sit with it anymore. Before you could stop yourself...
"Seriously? Can't you guys shut up about Cady for one second? It's date night! This is supposed to be about us. Not her." You snapped, the table went quiet and their eyes were on you. Confusion quickly replaced with concern. Which then made you the confused one until you realized you were crying. When did you start crying?
"Oh my God!" Gretchen says, quickly reaching across the table and grabbing your hands. The four of you were situated so Regina sat next to you, Karen across from Regina, Gretchen next to Karen and across from you." We're so sorry, we didn't even..." She looks at Karen and then at Regina with a frown, clearly none of them had realized how you felt. Gretchen thought she had picked up on something weird earlier today, she didn't know if she had been overthinking that look you gave Cady but it turns out she was right. Gretchen sighs.
Regina drapes an arm around your waist and pulls you in close to her side, her nails trailing through your hair as she looks at you with a look you couldn't quite figure out. "Are you jealous?" Regina was always more blunt. Even with you.
"I don't... well, it's not really jealousy.. jealousy is definitely a part of it but it's like- I feel like Cady's replacing me." You try to explain your thoughts with a little struggle. There were so many going through your head that it was hard to jump on a single train of thought. So they all mixed together a bit when you spoke.
The three glance around at each other, seeming to have some silent conversation. Regina speaks up first. Her hold on your waist tightening a little but not in a way that was uncomfortable to you.
"Why the fuck would we replace you with her?"
You pause and blink, looking at Regina in confusion. You thought her and the others had been really close with Cady. You were so sure of it too. To hear Regina immediately dismiss the thought, it definitely surprised you. Were they not as close as you had assumed?
"What?" You reply, your confusion showing on your face. By now the tears had stopped flowing but the streaks remained.
"Why do you think we would replace you with Cady? We don't actually like her. We've been making fun of her." Regina states simply. That was news to you. They never really included you in their kittle schemes because they knew it wasn't your style, they respected that. Though sometimes you'd hear the stories.
"But you gave Cady those shoes?" Your head was beginning to hurt trying to figure all this out. If they didn't like Cady why was she even in the group? It didn't make sense to you.
"Because we thought it would be hilarious watching her try to walk in them. And it was." Regina shrugged, a slight smirk on her face as she glanced over at Gretchen.
Karen looked about as confused as you," wait. We don't like Cady?"
"Honey..." Gretchen looked at Karen with a soft gaze and rested one of her hands on her lower back, keeping the other in your hand.
Regina brought her focus back to you and kissed you deeply, hand moving from your waist to rest under your chin before she breaks the kiss. Smirking against your lips as she looks into your eyes.
"Better?" She whispered, you nodded your head. A blush coated your cheeks as you stared back into the blonde's eyes. She always managed to leave you speechless.
The rest of the date went by smoothly, your girls focused on making sure you were the center of attention for the entire date. Including you in conversation, always finding some way to touch you. By the time the four of you got to Regina's room, you were exhausted as you let yourself collapse onto her bed. Gretchen giggled as she watched you and was the first to lay down beside you, wrapping you in her arms and pulling you close. Karen came down on your other side, doing the same. Making sure her arms wrapped around both you and Gretchen. Regina took a picture of the three of you and posted it to Insta before joining you guys in bed. Fully laying herself on top of you with her arms around your hips as she planted a soft kiss to your jawline; which got a hum out of you in response. The four of you remained cuddled up with each other until you feel asleep.
Feeling much better than you did at the start of the day.
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bluecollarmcandtf · 24 days
Text
Total Customer Service
My hotel famously caters to the whims of each and every guest, so I thought I'd highlight the insights of some of my staff. My "unique" recruitment process has helped me acquire an army of hard-working uniforms who are guaranteed to serve! Hopefully, this glimpse will make you want to book a visit...
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(Josh) The Bellhop
I love this job, but sometimes it kills my back! Who would've thought that being a porter would wear down my body more than hard labor ever did? Don't get me wrong: I'll gladly work here forever, but most of my days aren't a walk in the park. Honestly, none of them are.
When I was a construction worker, I got paid to be outside and occasionally hammer in a nail or two. My crew was pretty notorious for just standing around all day. We were doing that when my current boss approached us. I don't remember exactly what he said, but before I knew it, we were dropping our tool belts and hardhats and following him back to the hotel!
He hired me as a bellboy, so now I offer any guest the service of lugging their suitcases up to their rooms. Since I'm just staff, I obviously can't use the elevators, (those are reserved for the guests) so I carry their things up the service stairs in the back of the building. The temperature in the stairwell is always hot as hell, so I rarely end a shift without sweating through the pits of my uniform jacket. It sucks, but the AC is saved for spaces that make guests more comfortable.
Most of the customers are pleased to see me working so hard anyway. I'm usually panting by the time I deliver their luggage to their rooms. I'll always offer to unpack their things: it's a part of the hotel's five-star service.
Then I wait and see if they need anything else from me. A lot of times, I'm the first employee the guests are able to interact with, so they're usually pretty excited to take advantage of the "all-inclusive" service our hotel is famous for.
Some of them are shy about it at first and some of them are demanding from the get-go, but I'm always happy to do whatever they ask. Even if I don't particularly like what I have to do: it's just a part of the job...I love this job...I love my boss...I love that this work is my life...
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(Bill) The Housekeeper
Part of me cringes every time I get a look of myself in a mirror. Sure, I'm proud to be a housekeeper, but it's a real change of pace from back when I was a financial advisor. Part of me is nervous to think I could run into someone from my old life: a former colleague or an old customer perhaps. I'd still clean their room the same of course, but I can't help but wonder what they'd think of me while I did it.
I used to manage the hotel owner's finances. That's how we met. He persuaded me to grow his hotel as much as I could. It became an obsession of mine, and I'll have to admit that I tossed all my other customers to the side to focus on him. It was a bit out of character for me. I'm not really sure why I did that. Anyway, I was spending so much time at his hotel instead of my office that he offered me a job.
I can't recall his pitch, but it must have been a convincing one, because I dialed up my old former boss and quit. I just didn't want it anymore! It didn't even bother me that the only vacant position was in housekeeping!
I took it immediately.
I love cleaning up the messes our guests leave behind. Thinking about that is what gets me out of bed everyday, which is no easy feat since my shift starts at four in the morning. No matter how messy, gross, or bizarrely sticky a room is, I just love to get on my hands and knees and scrub every inch for them.
The best part is when a guest comes back to their room to find me making their bed or cleaning their shower. I can tell they're always pleasantly surprised to find me there.
I just keep my head lowered submissively like I'm supposed to and wait for them to take charge. They always do. Here at the hotel, us employees are completely at the customer's whim. I'll do anything they tell me to...I want to make them happy...I want to serve them...I want to obey.
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(Donavon) The Waiter
Who knew waiting could create such awful migraines. I work in the hotel bar, and every day is a new storm of hungry and entitled mouths. Each table has someone who isn't happy with their meal, and they love to express their discontent in the most ridiculous ways. Sometimes it's a glass of water in my face. Sometimes it's a slap on the ass, but it's always followed by a roar of laughter!
Usually, every guest in the restaurant joins in like it's all one sick joke.
I'm not used to being treated this way. I used co-own a nearby gym, and I always made it my mission to foster a welcoming culture of respect and familiarity. I know "the customer is always right," but sometimes it is a hard fact to swallow.
The hotel's owner helped me learn that. He approached me one night at the gym and pulled out this weird swinging medallion...
I don't remember much of what he said, but I knew I had to abandon my gym. I left my wife too. We were happy, but I couldn't work here and have other commitments.
That's how I got started waiting tables. I'd never done it before, but it's not hard when I'm constantly being told what to do. Between the customers and the boss, I spend the entire day running around fulfilling orders; table six wants more wine, table nine wants their food cut for them, table twelve wants a foot rub... you get the picture.
It's all pretty typical stuff for a restaurant, I think. The customers get full control over me and the rest of the wait staff. However, it does make serving food a little difficult at times. Last night, we had to work overtime because this one guy kept making full use of us waiters. A good chunk of my evening was spent under his table, so I had to sprint afterwards to catch up on everyone's food.
It might stress me out, but I try not to let it bother me. I'll put up with their abuse and treat them with the utmost respect like a good waiter should. I don't mind being groped and fondled by virtually every customer as I pass. Part of our service is complete access to the staff. They can do whatever they want to me...they can have me do whatever they want...they deserve that treatment...I'm meant to give them that treatment...
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(Ricardo) The Kitchen Staff
This job sucks. It's the truth, but I don't think I'll ever leave. The kitchens are so steamy and uncomfortable that I constantly think about walking out and getting a breath of fresh air. Still, my hands keep scrubbing countertops and chopping vegetables.
Sometimes I think of my life before I worked at this hotel, back when I was just an aimless twenty year old hanging out at the gas station. I had so much free time then. Now, I spend every waking moment in this sauna of a kitchen getting splashed with grease and oil.
Everything changed when that stranger came up to me and my buds one day. He talked really slow and dangled this weird necklace in front of our eyes. If I didn't know any better, I might think he was trying to hypnotize us!
Obviously, that's not what happened.
He was just offering us work. He made me realize how much I needed to work. I have to do this job! I need it! All my buddies agreed too. Some of them had jobs, but they didn't mind. It's been awhile since I saw them since I'm stuck down here in the kitchen. I think one of them might be a pool boy or something? I don't remember. Whatever it is, I'm sure it's more enjoyable than washing dishes down here.
The only break we get is when a customer comes in the kitchen.
One of them burst through the doors last night. We could all tell he'd had too much to drink, but that didn't change how we treated him. Like always, me and the rest of the staff stopped what we were doing and straightened our backs out of respect. He stumbled around, licking his lips as he looked us up and down. He wasn't afraid of groping us, which any guest is more than entitled to do.
Eventually, he got to me, burping in my face before covering my mouth with his slobbery lips. I'm not gay and he had a rank odor of beer on his breath, but I wasn't going to tell a customer no!
Before long, he was ordering me on the floor and crawling on top of me. The other chefs and kitchen staff got back to work, but I was left with the responsibility of keeping the guest entertained. I'd describe it as gross more than anything. I think he might've even pissed himself, but an order is an order.
His demands were the ridiculous kind only a drunk ass would make. Still, I did everything: no matter how uncomfortable, sick, or degrading they were. That's just the expectation for employees at this hotel...we are here to serve them... I'm here to serve them...I am at their whim.
...so now you understand.
My hotel is famous for its "uniquely unlimited" customer service. Stay here and you'll always be right. You'll always have someone to pick on, laugh at, play with, or use.
Get familiar with anyone that catches your eye. I can assure you that all of my employees are handsome and thoroughly conditioned. Order the waiter to pour your food over his head; tell the housekeeper to do a little dance; command the bellhop turn around and bend over. They'll do it all, and they'll thank you for it.
So what are you waiting for. Book your next vacation with us! I promise you'll enjoy meeting the rest of my staff...
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spidernuggets · 2 months
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Hi hope you’re having a good/night can you do a Jason Todd x detective fem reader. She meets Jason , but she meets him when he’s red hood at a crime scene.
Jason Todd x FemDetective!Reader
"So you're the guy that's making my paperwork pile up higher than the Empire State Building."
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"Christ, another one?" One of your coworkers said as the limp, dead body was zipped up into a body, and evidence collected and put away.
You shrug a shoulder, writing down in your notepad a list of suspects and witnesses involved in this new murder, which was also linked to other recent killings.
"Adam Matthews." You state the victim's name.
"Drug dealer?" Your coworker asks, looking at the substance that Matthews had on his person being bagged for evidence.
"Mm. He was a cook for a drug dealer who tested on homeless kids or orphans. But Matthews was also known for being an accessory for other murders, kidnappings, and was guilty for sexual assaults," you state, sighing, putting your notebook away.
Your coworker fell shocked. "How the fuck is he not locked up?!" He yells.
"Links with richies," you scoff. "Well, he's dead now. His long, overdue debt it now paid." You always believed these kinds of people never deserved a second chance. All the previous murder victims were similar to Adam Matthews. So, others may call you crazy, but you were thankful for this anonymous killer going out of their way, killing scumbags like Matthews.
"I'm going to scout around the area, Parks," you told your coworker as he nodded and went to discuss with the other officers around the area.
You shone your flashlight around the narrow alleys, searching for any clues or evidence you could use to help solve the crime and catch the murderer. Or in your eyes an anti-hero.
Just as you were about to turn around and return to the scene, you heard grunts and strings of profanity coming from behind one of the dumpsters.
Your hand hovered over your gun in your hip holster, walking towards the sounds.
You swiftly turned to see the source, hand on the handle of the gun, and saw a certain, outlawed vigilante leaning on the dumpster, holding his arm, his body stained with blood.
His helmet lay in between his legs, his domino mask remaining on his face.
"What the fu- Red Hood??" You exclaim.
"You mind?" He groans, holding his hand out, trying to avoid the flash shining in his eyes.
"Shit, sorry," you reoly, turning it off and placing it on your utility belt. Your head tilted to the side, seeing that Red Hood was struggling to wrap his arm up. "It's loose," you say, referring to the bandage- or rag that he was tying around his bicep.
"Wow, really? Didn't- fuck- didn't notice," he says, cursing once more when the bandage fell down.
You roll your eyes, crouching beside his and taking the bandage from his, unwrapping his arm and rewrapping it tighter as it should be.
"So you're the guy that's making my paperwork pile up higher than the Empire State Building." You mutter, tying the bandage to stay in place.
"Sorry, little cop lady. Just doing my job." He hisses.
"It's little detrctice lady to you. And I'd appreciate it if you made your little killing sprees a little more discreet. Eventually, the actual cops are gonna catch your ass," you snicker, getting up.
"As if I let them." He bites back.
"L/n. Where are you?" Parks says through your walkie. "Did you find anything?"
Red Hood gets up, putting his helmet back on, looking down at you, waiting for your response.
You click on the button to reply. "No. Nothing here. Coming back now."
The white glowing eyes pierce through yours as Red Hood chuckles. "Hiding a criminal? Haven't taken a look through the law book in a while, but isn't that illegal?" You couldn't see it, but Red Hood grinned, amised at this new encounter.
You shrugged. "I'm only doing this because I know I can't stop you, even if I wanted to. Besides. If these ass rat criminals kept scurrying around, the papaerwork would be much more than you're making." You smirk.
He laughs. "So you're saying you don't want to stop me?" He crosses his arms.
"Have a good night, Mr. Hood." You bid him goodbye, walking back to the crime scene.
"And to you too, little detective lady," he says, quietly hoping to run into again after he puts lead into the head of his next target.
"Jeez, I thought you died or something. You were gone for a while, are you sure you didn't find anything?" Parks quickly asks you.
You quickly wipe away the blood on your palms from Red Hood's wound onto your black jeans. "Save the interrogation for the suspects, Parks. Nothing there but dead rats and graffiti."
You walk off, almost missing the shine of a red helmet running off on the roof of a building in the distance as you smirk to yourself, also secretly hoping Red Hood would cause another casualty to meet him again.
Parks was about to walk off, too, almost missing the tiniest splotch of red on your white shirt as he raised an eyebrow.
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I'M SO SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN TO MAKE IT SO SHORT!!!
I didn't want to leave this ask in my inbox for too long and forget about it 😭😭
BUTTTT if you or anyone else wants!!! I can make a part 2 where Reader and Red Hood begin a constant meetup after every death Red Hood causes (only to those criminals who deserve it, obvi). And Parks becomes suspicious of Reader and threatens her or that Reader's job is put on the line!!!!
I was going to add this idea in, but I'm really bad at making long fics cuz I always wanna get it over and done with and I'm so impatient 😭
HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT ANYWAYS 🙏🙏
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emmettworld · 1 month
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hello, my beloved whump community. this is Emmett. but you probably know me better as this blog:
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or you may remember the blog before that:
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you may have even been here since this blog:
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...i'm not taking you farther than that. xD
my account was terminated without any warning today. March 25, 2024. all of my blogs are gone and i have lost everything i have on them. you won't even be able to see any comments or reblogs for me on any of your posts.
if you have commissioned me over Tumblr DMs and not Discord, please contact me here. i did not have a copy of my commission list saved. i do not know who hasn't paid and who already has. i do not remember who was on the list. i do not want anyone to be cheated out of their money.
i have no idea why this happened. i was not doing anything that could justify my account being terminated with no warning or explanation. i'm so paranoid about it that i won't even type the blog names; that's why they're images instead.
but at this point, most of you know the type of whump creator i am. one who creates whatever he wants, no matter how disturbing or explicit it may be. one who loves creating whump and content in general of the Not Safe For This Website kind.
getting one of my blogs flagged, and now losing everything, is not going to stop me. i'm not going anywhere. but i am going to be changing my approach to posting content.
this is my Language Key. i will be using a system of emojis for tagging instead of words, so please read this before you go on my blog and know which tags you need to block.
if you need to block my blog for any reason, go ahead. i don't want to disturb anyone by showing up in the tags.
all of my artwork that is Not Safe For This Website will be linked to an external storage website, MEGA. it is completely free to view and you do not need an account. there will be no cropped previews unless they are 100% Safe For This Website.
all of my writing that is Not Safe For This Website will be linked directly to where i post it on my AO3. it is completely free to view and you do not need an account. there will be no writing put under a read more unless it is 100% Safe For This Website.
trust me, i'll have a better pinned post up at some point explaining who i am and my multiverse of AUs, series, and OCs, and links to my commission page, and my Ko-Fi...and i'll do my best to finish the masterlists and, once again, build myself up from the ground up...
but i'm exhausted. i never saw this coming, and it's made me realize just how unsafe i am. i lost so much content that was only posted on Tumblr and not saved anywhere else.
believe me when i say that i am fucking devastated.
but i'm not going anywhere. i will die with this site when it eventually goes down, and not because it tried to kill me.
that being said, you can find me here on Cohost, which is where i'll migrate to when this place dies or where i'll communicate if i happen to get IP address banned (probably without warning) or something that prevents me from coming back.
if you don't want to refollow me here, i totally understand. i can't say how grateful i am to everyone who does, but like...i get it. it's tedious having to refollow me all the time, never knowing when a blog (or full ass account) is going to suddenly disappear. if you want to get off this crazy, unpredictable ride now, i don't blame you.
and if you decide to stick around, for however long, thank you. this day has been one of my worst nightmares and i don't think i would be handling this with nearly as much grace if it were not for my friends and everyone on my Discord server (which, by the way, is the only safe place where i share everything uncensored).
they were my first line of communication. they helped me get the word out. they rallied for me and kept me from having one massive breakdown over this, so my heartfelt thanks go out to them.
i'm using the whump community tags in hopes that more people will see this. i had hundreds of followers on my last blog, more than a thousand on the blog before that...i know this isn't going to reach everyone, but i hope it will reach some people.
thank you so much for reblogging this to help spread the word if you do. and thank you for reading. ❤️
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