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patrywoso · 3 months ago

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13. Kika Nazareth

+18 SMUT

Warnings: Teasing. Strap-Ons. Bondage. Light BDSM. Spanking

Kika hates breaking in new harnesses, but tonight it’s unavoidable, her trusty old one that she’s had for several years broke last week during a round of particularly vigorous fucking, and her tailoring skills are largely limited to sewing buttons back on pants and shirts. So she’d sighed and splurged on a fancy new one with cherry-red leather and brass fittings, but it’s been so long since she’s had to set up a new one that she’s forgotten how much of a pain in the ass it can be. But you had gotten that look in your eye as you both finished your dinner that night, and you’d beckoned Kika closer over your glass of champagne. As always, Kika had been helpless to resist.

“I want your strap,” you murmured.

“Do you seriously think it’s funny? saying shit like that while we are here?!” Kika says (although the restaurant had been buzzing at top volume that night). Kika darted a frantic glance around the room before throwing back the rest of her glass and then signaling for the check. She’d nearly had a heart attack while she thanked their waiter because she’d felt a toe running up her shin. After she recovered enough to stammer out an apology and hand him her credit card, she'd turned a red-faced glare on you. You had given her the most innocent look in your arsenal, as if you weren't currently exploring Kika’s inner thigh with your right foot.

It had seemed to take entirely too long for the check to come back, but after dashing off a hasty signature (and tipping nearly 40 percent, just in case the waiter had seen something), Kika had practically dragged you from the restaurant. Luckily, it was only a short walk back to Kika’s apartment. Kika thinks that if she'd had to drive, you both probably would have crashed because your hands were everywhere. You had the decency to remove them from Kika’s back pockets when they entered the lobby and returned the greeting of Wilson, the night doorman, but as soon as you both got into the elevator, you had practically attacked her. To complete Kika’s mortification, the doors had opened on the fourth floor to reveal little old Mrs. Lara, who had taken one look at you both and pressed the close button.

Now here you are, Kika struggling to make certain that all of the eight million straps are tight enough while having to deal with one end of a dildo pressing uncomfortably inside of her, and you are wriggling beneath her, doing your best to distract her. A sneaky hand reaches around to squeeze a firm handful of Kika’s ass, and one of the straps slips through her fingers as she attempts to tighten it. Kika recaptures it with a huff, attempting to slide the buckle into place with just one hand while using the other to pin your wrist to the mattress. You just giggle, you have another hand so you use it to grasp Kika’s breast and roll the tight bud of her nipple before leaning up to seize it between your teeth. Kika hisses as pleasure lances sharply through her body, making her pulse around the end of the strap seated inside of her.

Kika surges forward to press you to the bed, trapping your wrists above your head to keep your devilish hands from roaming, if anything, you look more delighted than ever at your new predicament. That makes a lightbulb flicker on in Kika’s brain, although she's a bit too preoccupied and lust-addled to discern what it’s illuminated just yet. She frowns at you. “You're awfully distracting for someone who says that wants my strap, and can't even wait to leave the restaurant before telling me so.”

You give her a big grin, eyes shining with excitement. “Well, you're taking too long.”

Kika growls at you, and those beautiful orbs flash. “If you can't be patient, I might just have to make it so you can’t distract me,” Kika says, low. That makes you let out a little moan and writhe even harder under her. Kika raises an eyebrow. “If I didn't know better, I'd say you wanted to be tied up.” An even louder moan, open-mouthed, and you arch your back to rub yourself against Kika’s torso, making sure that Kika’s abs know just how wet you are. Kika has to close her eyes and suppress a shudder, you are soaked.

When Kika’s gotten control of herself again, she raises the other eyebrow. “What's gotten into you, huh? It's been a while, but all I have to do is mention tying you up and you're acting crazy.”

“Well,” you fairly purrs, having abandoned your more wanton behavior for a slow and steady grind that, Kika knows, will ultimately drive her just as crazy, “remember when you let me use your laptop last week for my anatomy homework? You forgot to clear your browser history.”

Kika blushes, remembering: that last week she'd been shopping for the new harness, and had gotten distracted by the website’s sale on bondage equipment. That had led her to several products that, while extremely interesting, she had no clue how to use, which had led to a couple of hours spent watching extremely illuminating tutorials…and then you had come home from class, swearing up a storm, apparently, your trusty old MacBook had finally given up, and you had a paper due for your anatomy class in the morning. Kika had hastily closed the browser windows and offered her own computer for you to use, hoping that she wouldn't be inclined to do any snooping until that is, Kika had had time to figure out some of the techniques herself.

Well, she hadn't gotten the chance to work out the finer points of shibari bondage, but she had learned a couple of simple but effective knots. Narrowing her eyes at you, she growls, “Oh, so that's how you want to play it, huh?”

You nod enthusiastically, your grin getting even bigger. Kika gives you a bit of a smirk. “All right. Elbows and knees, ass in the air, face the headboard and if you can’t keep your hands to yourself, I'm calling the whole thing off.”

You know you’re being watched, and that never fails to make a rosy blush color your tawny skin. Kika thinks about slapping one of the perfect ass cheeks she can see waving tantalizingly at her, but manages to refrain. There'll be plenty of time for that when she's hilted inside the gorgeous pussy she knows is waiting for her. Instead, Kika turns towards the closet, where a small wooden chest contains her toy box. Pushing aside a couple of cascading shelves to get to the main compartment, she withdraws a length of glossy red rope, tightly coiled. She tests it in her hands, feeling its firm weave but soft material, and imagines how it'll feel to you when she’s done: just tight enough to dig into your skin a little when she writhes and thrashes in pleasure, but not rough enough to leave ligature marks. Grinning a little, she turns back to you, smacking the rope against her palm a couple of times.

Your eyes light up as soon as you see it, and your ass gives a little wiggle. Kika takes the invitation to slap the unruly area lightly with the coil in her hand and is rewarded with a groan. “Kika…”

“Yes baby?” she says, rounding the corner of the bed to take up a position near the headboard.

“You're taking too long,” you say. Your face is hidden in your hair, but Kika can hear the grin in your voice. Kika narrows her eyes and begins wrapping the rope around her wrists, which she's obligingly placed together in front of her (About the only obliging thing she's done this evening, Kika grumbles to herself).

“Are you really sure you want to be giving me attitude?” she says, injecting some growl into her tone.

Kika’s not really angry at you, the truth is, your excitement is infectious, and she feels herself starting to get into it too. While tying you up may not be Kika’s personal kink, pleasing you definitely is. And from the way you are writhing and squirming against the sheets, pushing your hips back as if in search of pressure, Kika is very pleased already. “It’s not too late to find you a gag, you know.”

“You don't have one,” you point out. Your tone is matter-of-fact, but the slight breathiness of your voice and the gleam in your eyes tells Kika that you find the suggestion very interesting.

Kika finishes tying off your bonds and invites you to test them with a light tug. You do it, leaning back until the ropes creek quietly. Evidently satisfied, you turn back to Kika, looking like a cat that ate the canary. “So…are you gonna fuck me or what?”

“Go on, fuck yourself on my strap” Kika responds and you started moving to do that but Kika just grins at you and pushes you back until you are again in position, all fours, giving her a beautiful view of you.

“Until you're sore,” Kika promises, as she gets behind you. Kika gives first one ass cheek a loud spank, then the other, pausing after each one to admire the blooms of red and the breathy moans they've elicited. She drapes herself along your back, feeling her nipples tighten as they brush against your smooth skin. Kika can't help rubbing the tip of her strap a couple of times against your soaked pussy, knowing that as much torment as it is for her to hold off on sinking it in, it’s twice as bad for you.

As she predicted, you moan and push your ass back, trying to take the hard length inside of you. “No,” Kika orders, taking a gentle but firm grip on the back of your neck and pulling her own hips away. “Not until I say so,” you whine a bit but stop struggling.

Kika leans back over you, her delight in your eagerness and clear enjoyment of your predicament tempered momentarily by a need to make absolutely certain that this is what you want. “The usual safeword?” Kika says gently, tempering the rough urgency in her voice.

“Bread,” you say, wrinkling your nose.

Kika rolls her eyes. “That's got to be the weirdest safeword I've ever heard.”

You shrug as best as you can in your restraints. “Hey, they say to pick the least sexy thing you can think of, so…”

Kika snorts and then says, “All right.” Leaning back, she gives your ass another pair of sharp slaps, more noise than force, but it’s enough to make your hips jerk back towards her again.

“Just remember, you asked for this,” Kika growls, rubbing her hand across the marks to soothe their sting. All you can manage in return is a low groan.

Kika takes a moment to line up the head of her strap with your entrance, then pushes all the way in with one long, smooth stroke. You respond beautifully, arching your back and moaning louder with every inch that slips inside. Soon Kika sheathed all the way inside of her, gasping at the sensation of your inner walls clinging to her, though she knew the best was yet to come. Kika pulls her hips back, dragging a whine out of you that turns into a whimper when the head of her strap brushes up against the full, throbbing spot along your inner wall. Kika holds herself there for a second, nearly trembling with the urge to thrust back in, but she’s got to get revenge for the merciless way you teased her somehow. Finally, just when she’s sure she can’t stand another moment of this and she’s just going to have to give you what you want, you let out a broken cry: “You can be a little rougher, y’know. I'm not exactly delicate.”

“Fuck,” Kika grunts, slamming her hips forward. Then she’s off like a shot, pounding at a harsh pace, the fastest she can manage, and still be sure that she’s hitting the right spot on every stroke. The way you’re writing and tugging against your bonds tells her that she’s succeeding, and Kika allows herself a small, triumphant grin. While finesse doesn’t matter nearly so much to you when she’s been teased and tormented to the very edge of orgasm, right now they’re just starting out, and a more disciplined approach is required. There will be plenty of time later for the brutal fucking that you’re currently demanding in between gasps.

Speaking of finesse, Kika lets go of her hold on one of your hips and reaches around to find your clit. She has to bite her lip against a moan when she feels how hard it is, straining out from beneath its hood, and she rubs it gently, knowing that when it’s like this it’s easy to overstimulate. Her efforts are very clearly appreciated: at the first touch of her fingers, your entire body gives a jolt, and Kika can feel your pussy clench down around her strap. The sudden tightness makes the shorter edge of the strap press against Kika’s inner walls, and the moan that she’d managed to curtail escapes her throat.

Annoyed at her own loss of control, Kika fucks you just a bit harder, while punishing you by removing her hand from your clit and using it to deliver a sharp smack to your ass. “If you can’t behave, I might have to stop altogether,” she growls, and that makes you writhe against her bonds.

“No!”

“Then stop trying to make me come before I’m ready,” Kika says, still in the same dark tone, although she can’t help but think that she might already be a lost cause. You’re just so fucking sexy like this, pushing your hips back to meet Kika’s every thrust and squeezing down so deliciously around her strap that every time Kika has to pull back is more agonizingly pleasurable than the last. She can feel her own clit pulsing with need, and as she reaches back down to resume toying with you, she also adjusts the angle of her strokes so that the base of the strap presses against it when she pushes back in.

Despite the wetness gushing out around the strap, your pussy is getting tighter and tighter, making thrusting harder but so much more wonderful. Kika has abandoned the attempt to keep quiet and is letting out low groans at nearly the same rate as your loud cries. You are thrashing against your bonds, desperate for more of the rough plunge of Kika’s strap and the increasingly harsh ministrations of Kika’s hand, and Kika knows that you're getting so, so close.

Abandoning your clit, Kika reaches forward to take a firm but gentle grip under your chin, trying to ignore the way that your frantically pounding pulse is making her inner walls flutter. She urges you to lift your head and then leans over you again, sacrificing force for the incredible sensation of your sweat-slicked bodies pressing together. “Tell me what you need,” Kika whispers roughly into your ear.

You only respond with a moan, and with the last ounce of willpower you possess, Kika forces her hips to still. The result is a louder moan, nearly a wail. “Kika!”

“Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you,” Kika repeats her voice anything but steady as her body fights against what she’s denying. “But I won’t give you anything if you can’t tell me.”

“Kika, please, just….fuck me!”

It’s not exactly the most articulate response, but it’s all that Kika needs. With a low, broken groan, Kika resumes pounding into you, no longer trying for anything but speed and force. You're so tight that it doesn’t matter at this point, every stroke is hitting the right spot. Kika lets go of her hold on your hips in order to brace both of her hands on the bed by your head, using the additional leverage to thrust all the harder she can. Kika’s rising to her own peak so quickly that she’s becoming seriously worried about her ability to last, but in the end, she doesn’t need to worry.

Your entire body stiffens into one taut arch, and you let out a full-throated scream as you come, your pussy clamping tightly around the strap splitting you open and releasing wave after wave of wetness to go pouring down your legs. Kika’s own release comes moments after, her entire body shaking with its intensity as she struggles to keep her hips moving, fucking you through the entirety of your orgasm and extending it as long as she can. But it’s too much, the sensations are too intense and eventually, she collapses against your back, panting hotly across your neck. For a while, that’s all you both can manage, quick, hoarse gasps as you both try to settle your breathing.

You regain your voice first, “That was…incredible,” you say, and while Kika can't see your face, your grin is dripping from your voice like honey. All Kika can manage is a tired huff of laughter in response, but she's sure you understand.

“However,” you continue, “do you think you could untie me? My hips are starting to cramp up.”

“Oh! Yeah, sorry,” Kika says, scrambling to do as you ask. It’s not easy at first, she’s still trembling from the force of her orgasm and her hands aren't inclined to be steady as she works to undo her knots, but she manages it, and you are soon free to stretch gratefully, letting out a satisfied hum as your back cracks.

“Mmm, yes. Now that is almost as good as sex.”

Kika looks up from where she’d been checking your wrists over for marks or bruising to give you a hurt look. You grin back at her playfully. “I said almost.”

Kika huffs, but she's too happy to even pretend to be grumpy. Once she's satisfied that you've suffered no lasting damage, she flops down against the pillows and then tickles you, “Serves you right,” Kika mumbles into your neck, pulling you into her arms.

You don’t even offer token resistance, you just melt against her as your bones have taken on the consistency of warm taffy. Kika feels happiness and the warm tingly glow of a supremely satisfying orgasm filling her up to the brim, and the girl in her arms is the person she loves most in the world, and she's going to get to fall asleep with you and wake up with you forever and ever.

You giggle, breaking the spell. Kika glares down at you. “What’s so funny?”

“Well, your strap is kind of poking me in the thigh.”

Kika groans, abruptly reminded that she's still wearing the strap-on. She attempts to free herself from the confusing mess of straps and buckles, but she doesn't have to struggle for long before she feels soft hands helping her. Together, you both get the whole thing off her hips and out of her and deposit it in the top drawer of the toy chest. “Probably should clean that,” you murmur, settling back against Kika.

“Probably should,” Kika replies, half asleep already, her hand stroking up and down the smooth line of your back lazily. “Not gonna do it tonight.”

Kika feels you shake in quiet laughter for a moment, then quiet. After a beat of silence, Kika hears you murmur drowsily, “Love you, baby.”

“Love you too,” Kika says and falls asleep with a soft smile on her face.

#woso smut #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso request #kika nazareth smut #kika nazareth x reader

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lohotine · 7 months ago

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AN: This is the Shadow Milk version of the Affogato post I made a while back- hahaha .-

(Fem again bc that's all I know how to write smut about. And if you saw me already post this on accident, no you didnt.)

Oh yeah, shout out to @vkxiraa again for help!! (They assisted with the start for this-)

Shadow Milk x Reader

Oneshot

Warnings: Sexual scenes, marking, oral, degrading, choking, swears, mirror fucking, overstimulation, creampie, NSFW, overall unholy,

-Obedience-

….Well, this situation is certainly interesting.

You were now Shadow Milk's 'puppet', as he likes to say.

His very own that would do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

You were like some sad excuse of a pet. He even gave you a collar and everything.

Suddenly, the room filled up with light as Shadow Milk Cookie entered, twirling around energetically.

“Doll~! I have a little gift for you!”

Finally; some real light... This is the first time you've seen it in a long time.

You could not screw this up...

"Ah, what is it?" You asked him.

Shadow Milk Cookie gave you his signature grin as he crawled in-between your legs.

A subtle blush would dust your cheeks, "What's this for-?" You asked, averting your gaze from Shadow Milk.

"Just rewarding you for your obedience.." He'd say, slowly slipping off your skirt and panties.

A cold breeze could be felt along your now exposed clit.

Shadow Milk gently pushes your legs apart with his hands before licking a long line over your entrance.

"You always taste so sweet.." he admitted before sucking on your already dripping cunt.

Shaky breaths escaped from your lips as Shadow Milk began to fuck you with his tongue.

"Come on love, let me hear you."

His voice sent a vibration that went up to your core, signaling a moan from you.

Your legs would twitch each time Shadow Milk swirled his tongue around in your insides.

His nails would dig into your plush thighs as he ate you out like he had been starved for weeks.

Loud exasperated moans spilled from your lips as he continued to suck and taste all of your liquids.

When it came the time for your orgasm to finally set into place, you'd leak all of your cum onto his tongue, to which he glady swallowed.

Just when you thought he had finished with you, he'd push you further onto the bed and flipped you over so that your knees and hands were pressed onto the bed.

Shadow Milk swiftly removes his pants before grabbing your hips.

He slowly pressed his tip into your swollen pussy, causing you to tighten around nothing at all.

"So eager for my cock?" He leans in towards your neck and whispered. "Such a needy slut.."

Shadow Milk Cookie finnaly presses fully into you, moving in and out, slowly and teasingly.

"Fuck, you're so tight.." He'd say before quickening his pace.

You pressed your face into the pillows as he'd thrust into you, muffling your moans.

He tugged on the back your collar, pulling your face out from the pillows below.

"Doll, make sure I can hear you while I rearrange your guts, yeah?"

Tears picked the corners of your eyes as he slammed into your already overstimulated self.

You could see yourself in the mirror infront of you, drooling and letting out unintelligible noises.

The pain would quickly turn into pleasure as he managed to hit all of your good-spots, and you'd hold onto the sheets like your life depended on it.

You kept cumming on his throbing cock, again and again, unable to say any words.

Shadow Milk placed a hand on your breast, rolling your nipple and sucking a hickey onto your neck.

You'd tighten around him with each thrust, taking him in deeper and deeper.

"Want me to cum inside of you?" Shadow Milk asked as tugged on the collar around your neck, causing it to become slightly harder to breathe.

"Y- yes-!" you chocked out between screams of pleasure.

You felt his cock twitch inside of you after you said that, before he released his seed deep inside of you.

Shadow Milk would flip you onto your back before pounding into you once more.

"We're not stopping until you've either drenched the sheets or pass out."

《☆》 Fin

#crk #cookie run kingdom #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run #smut #shadow milk cookie crk #shadow milk cookie x reader smut #cookie run kingdom shadow milk cookie x reader #shadow milk x reader #shadow milk #shadow milk cookie x reader crk oneshot #shadow milk cookie oneshot #shadow milk cookie x reader #ckr smut #cr kingdom #cookie run kingdom x reader smut #shadow milk cookie

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starry-bi-sky · 11 months ago

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I am procrastinating homework and finals studying so I'm making another DPxDC au -- or more accurately, I am making an au of an au. or combining two aus to make a third one, because I am Procastinating And thinking about it.

(the part two for my Danny is Jason Todd au is like,,, half-made and I will get around to finishing it, promiiissse)

So the two aus I had in mind were combining, of course, the two clone aus - the Danny Clone and the Damian Clone au. For folks who haven't seen either posts (or saw one but not the other) here are summaries of both:

Damian Clone Au: The LoA make a clone of Damian Wayne specifically to either kill Damian Wayne and have the clone take his place as the heir to the LoA, or to bring him back. At 6 years old though and through magical teleportation mishaps, Baby Damian ends up in the warehouse district of Amity Park and picked up (and later adopted) by Danny Fenton. They develop a brotherly dynamic with one another.

Danny Clone Au: Danny is straight up a clone of Bruce Wayne, doesn't find out until a year after he has his accident. And, for the fun of it, is also mostly-powerless (he retains his ghost sense and a semblance of a ghost core and signature, but no ghost form). His reasoning for becoming Phantom is because he has walked into the lab watching his parents dissecting ghosts post-portal working more times than he can count. And due to this, changes his beliefs from "ghosts are evil" to "ghosts are sentient and sapient beings who don't deserve this treatment". (masterpost pinned on my blog, its currently incomplete) He is also a little GNC, as a treat. Long-haired Danny ftw. Ellie is a halfa because of the ectoplasm that Vlad used, and also the same age as Danny. They call each other twins and she is viciously protective of him. He uses a baseball bat and brass knuckles that I call 'jawbreakers' to fight ghosts.

Now admittedly, not much probably changes with the combination of these aus other than the potential parallels between Damian and Danny, and Bruce and Damian - and of course, I am always a sucker for parallels. Plus Damian's running off would take Danny finding him much longer, since he can no longer fly, but all the more meaningful because he still took so much time to find him.

(It probably also makes their first meeting different as well - Danny wears a ROTTMNT Casey Jones Jr. esq. mask when he goes out, but Damian would recognize lazarus green anywhere. He'd probably try harder to kill him though once he sees his face, since he knows that its not his father but an imposter.)

It also includes what I consider a hilarious conversation: "Since I'm a clone of Bruce Wayne, does this make me your dad or your brother?" "Don't be an idiot, laeazir." "You didn't answer my question."

The biggest change that comes from this is, of course, the fact that Danny now no longer has a leg to stand on with the "you're a human, I am a ghost" excuse in order to prevent Damian to help him with ghost-fighting, because now Danny is also a squishy, fleshy and fragile human just like Damian. And a human who, arguably, has less combat training than Damian and no powers to make up for it.

Now, Danny in both aus are about 16-17-ish in age, so they've had time to adapt to their new vigilante-hero lifestyle, but its still not the same as Damian's training as an assassin. Damian, unlike in the original clone au, remains insistent on his want to help Danny.

And,,, eventually wears him down after weeks or months of sneaking out after him, helping in fights, interfering, arguing, etc. Danny eventually agrees, exhausted, but he makes Damian promise, promise, that he will be careful and to focus on dodging and distraction. At least until Danny can figure out a safer alternative. He wants him as far removed from the fight as he can, he's a child for ancient's sake, after all.

Which is another issue too - if we follow Damian Clone timeline, then Damian is six years old when this happens. I'll be point blank, I do not see Danny ever actually agreeing to let a literal 6 year old go with him. SO, solution, I bump Damian's age to 7 when he arrives in the Fenton Family, and make him freshly eight years old when he finally gets Danny to agree.

It still SUCKS. He is still very much an itty bitty child, but as someone who has seen the difference between a six year old and an eight year old due to working at a daycare, an eight year old is still... slightly feasible. And an 8 year old assassin even more so (even if he hasn't trained properly in nearly a year or so)

So Danny, reluctantly, agrees to let Damian come with him on patrols.

He ghost-proofs Damian's sword (as he has since learned to do with his bat and jawbreakers), makes him a grappling hook and a Fenton thermos, and reluctantly lets Damian come with in his old LoA uniform that he appeared in (with some tailoring and ghost-proofing, because he has since begun to grow out of the uniform).

(and Danny himself also finally starts looking into alternatives to improve his own "suit" - which is all but a hoodie and reinforced jeans and a hockey mask. He needs to set an example to his little brother, goddammit.)

Then, as they're planning for Damian's eventual (dreaded on Danny's part) debut, they sit in their shared room and brainstorm for what to call Damian. "Ellie already uses the name Spirit." Danny says, sitting criss-cross at his desk with the eraser nub of a pencil chewed between his teeth.

(Behind him he has an investigative corkboard set up -- his accident left him with the ability to see ghosts not capable of being seen on the visible plane. 'Stereotypical' ghosts. Between school work, his social life, and ghost fighting, some of his downtime is spent figuring out ways to help them move on. His most recent is a cold case.)

(Bc with Danny, I loove to have him have some sort of trait that ties him in with his original counterpart. Nature vs Nurture and all that. Investigative work can be part of that.)

"What about Wraith?" Damian suggests from the floor, leaning against the bed frame while he goes over one of his english books. They've been practicing his reading and writing.

Danny furrows his brows. "A ghost seen typically shortly after or before someone's death?"

Damian nods. "Yes, it's of a similar cadence to 'Batman and Robin'."

"What's with you and your thing with Batman and Robin?" Danny asks with a playful half-smile, Damian shrugs and looks at his books. Danny sticks the eraser back between his incisors. "Phantom and Wraith... that works, though."

The first night out together, Danny fusses over Damian, making sure every bit of uniform was secured and in place -- something Damian took mild offense over. His outfit was far more reinforced than the juvenile get-up that his older brother wore.

But he let him fuss anyways. It made him loved.

"Now remember, Wraith--"

Damian interrupts him: "Yes, I know, Dany. Avoid and distract. Stay situationally aware. I fear that is something I should be telling you, however. Mother would have your head if she ever saw what your training was like."

(It was, not for the first time, that Damian wondered how his,,, "mother",,, would react if she ever met Danyal. Not good, he knows.)

Danny's shoulders sag, and he sighs. "I believe that, what with that super-secret spy--"

"Assassin."

Danny sends him a half-hearted chagrined look, "Assassin," he corrects, "organization that made you. I'm sure I'd give your mother an aneurysm." When he's finally okay with whatever make-believe issues he found with his suit, Danny reaches for the nearby side table and carefully slips on a black domino mask over Damian's eyes. It was thin, flexible, and made with some kind of material that Danny reassured was environmentally safe.

("Some kind of matieral that Wayne Industries invented awhile ago, Sam bought it for me." Danny told him when he first showed it to him.)

It was also cold. But the chill was made up for, slightly, with Danny's warmer hands smoothing it out over his skin, and ridding of any ridges that could form. Damian isn't sure entirely what Danyal did to keep it stuck onto his face, but when he touches it with his fingers he feels a very faint seam at the edge, and it doesn't budge against his hands. It felt like a second skin.

"There we go." Danny smiles, pulling his hands back. He still looks nervous. "It's not the same as my hockey mask," which sat atop his head, ready to be pulled down, "but I think a domino mask will work better for you considering your background."

He was right, a hockey mask would only hurt Damian's peripheral vision. This mask was thin enough that it didn't.

"Ready to go, Wraith?"

"After you, Phantom."

+++

Damian has much issue with Danny's suit. He can think of a million ways to make it better. It is one of the things he and Samantha Manson can get along with, and the few times they have spent time together they have brainstormed suit ideas. He knows that since Danny took him on as Wraith, he has started to look into better suit alternatives.

However. They are both aware of the same thing:

Danny is not Batman, nor Superman, nor Wonder Woman, nor Aquaman, or the Flash, or Green Arrow, or Nightwing, or any single hero on the public roster. He is also not rich like Lex Luthor or Vlad Masters or Bruce Wayne himself.

He has no money and no contacts, and thus, no way of properly improving his suit to be something even half as safe as the other supers.

And he refuses to let Samantha Manson help him find a way to fix that - even with all that money, Samantha Manson is on an allowance from her parents, and also, despite her other range of abilities, not capable of getting those materials without putting herself on a list of some sort. They are at a standstill.

Damian knows this, because he has asked.

Until one day when Danny is talking about a case he is working on and telling Damian about old adventures he had in the Ghost Zone, does he see his brother get hit with a lightbulb.

He slaps a hand against his forehead and straightens up from his swivel seat. He huffs a laugh, "Of course! Why didn't I think of it sooner?" And he turns on his heel and hurries to his bookshelf, pulling down a notebook and flipping open to an empty page.

Damian frowns, "Laeazir?"

"I know you don't like my suit, Damian," Danny says, striding over to his desk and snatching a pencil out of a cup. He begins jotting something down on the notebook. "And there's nothing I can really do about it because, well, I'm poor in comparison to my facesake, and I don't have the resources to get my hands on someone who would make me a new suit."

"Yes, we have talked about this..." Damian nods slowly, still frowning, and trying to follow his brother's line of reasoning.

Danny shoots him a megawatt, half-tilt smile, his hair tied up into a half-bun. "But! I was thinking about it from the wrong angle. I don't have the living resources to help me get a suit, but..." he trails off, staring at Damian intently.

It dinged in Damian's brain to where he was going, "But you have the undead resources instead." He says, his eyes widening slowly. Of course, of course! Danyal was ridiculously charismatic by accident, and Damian has seen plenty of times where his heart-of-gold had one or two non-hostile ghosts be incredibly grateful to him.

His brother makes a loud, 'ding-ding-ding!' sound, pointing his pencil at Damian as his smile stretches further across his face. In a few quick strides, he was sat down next to Damian and showing him his notebook. "Correct! When I first started out as Phantom a few years ago, I managed to help a ghost who called herself Taylor, and apparently she was a seamstress both in and out of life."

Damian watches as Danny writes the name at the top of the paper, and creates bullet-points down the page. "She said that in return for saving her, I should come find her in the Ghost Zone if I ever need clothes made for me. It's a one-time thing, but I was thinking that she could perhaps help make me a new suit."

Danny turns a bit pink at the ears, and rubs his neck, "I never thought much of it because I didn't think I'd ever go into the Ghost Zone, or ever need ghost clothes, so I forgot about it up until now."

A scoff forces itself out of Damian's mouth, but he is smiling. "Danyal, you are the smartest idiot I have ever met."

For the next hour, both he and Danny make a bullet point list of what both of their suits would need. Reinforcement in certain areas, gauntlets with reinforced knuckles to replace Danyal's jawbreakers. A different weapon than a bat.... a utility belt, reinforced boots. Anything they could think of.

It was Damian's idea to add a cloak to both of their suits, asymmetrical and torn at the edges for a more 'ghostly' look. They have a theme, after all. It's quite fun.

Then Danyal calls up Sam for help in drafting up design ideas. And while Danyal steps mostly to the side when it comes to the design itself, Damian and Sam fill pages with designs until coming up with one they both agreed on and like.

"What about a lightning bolt on the chest?" "Why are we using my traumatic accident as a symbol of my identity?" "Ghosts do it all the time, Danny. Ember sings about her death." "I'm not dead?" "No that won't work, Manson. Shazam already has a giant lighting bolt emblem." "Okay, but I still want to use it somewhere." "How about this?" "...That could work. Okay, now onto your emblem--"

Last was the hard part: getting into the Ghost Zone without the Fenton parents noticing the disappearance of their precious Fenton Specter Speeder. They employed Jazz's help with that. She would get the Fentons out of the house long enough for him and Danny to get into the ghost zone, hopefully find the seamstress, and cash in that favor.

They went through with their plan that following weekend. Danny tossed Damian a small jumpsuit as they both climbed into the specter speeder, but did not grab his own. He had a small duffle bag on him that he threw under the seat.

"What is this?" Damian asks, nose scrunching up at the gaudy picture of Jack Fenton's face square at the center of the chest. He held it far away from it, as if it had a disease.

"Your hazmat suit." Danny replies, settling himself into the driver's seat as the door hissed shut and he began turning it on. He had some sort of gas mask on in his lap, too small to fit Danny's head, but certainly the right size to fit Damian's. "Normally you wouldn't need it since you'd stay in the speeder, but we're both getting out once we find Taylor. It's to protect you from the ectoplasm."

A scowl forces itself across Damian's face, "You don't have one." He points out, finding seat in the passenger chair next to Danny. His arms cross over his chest, and he was not pouting.

Danny looks at him amusedly, "I have enough ectoplasm in my body that I don't need one, you however, do not." He retorts, poking a finger into Damian's ribcage pointedly. "If you don't put it on now, you'll put it on when we find Taylor."

Damian's scowl deepens, feeling petulant as he sunk into his chair. Danny turns back to the console and flips a few more switches. "I will not, it looks ridiculous." He turns it around to show Danny the Jack Fenton Face.

The Specter Speeder hums to life, and there's a moment of turbulence as it lifts off the ground. While it does, Danny turns back to him blankly, stares at the emblem, and then reaches forward and yanks it off with a scriiiiich of the emblem. He crumples it up with one hand, and throws it into a small bin at his feet.

"There, fixed." He smiles. Then turns back to the controls, taking the yoke with both hands. "And I'm calling Dad Rights; you will put it on when we find Taylor or you'll stay in the speeder."

Damian sputters, sitting up incredulously. "You are not my father." He argues.

"Teeechnically, I am." Danny says, "I'm a clone of your father, and since I am fully his clone, that makes you my son by a technicality." He says cheerfully, pushing the specter speeder forward and into the swirling green portal.

Before Damian can retort, they're passing through the portal. This was his first time going into the Ghost Zone, and for a few seconds there was nothing but bright, swirling green filling his vision. His body felt like it was being twisted and pulled, his up and down reversing and returning. It was painless, but dizzying.

It only lasts for a few seconds, but it feels like a minute, and when they exit out the other side, Damian is holding his head while his vision spots and swims. Internally, he felt like those cartoon characters when their eyeballs rolled around in their head.

The dizziness fades away slowly, and as Damian regains his sight, he notices Danny's hand splayed over his sternum, gently keeping him pressed against his seat. It fell away when Danny saw that he was alright.

"Put your seatbelt on," Danny orders, nodding to his chair. Damian listens absently, before remembering their conversation before they went through the portal.

"That is not how it works." He scowls, and, annoyingly, only gets a challenged eyebrow raise from Danny. He could see the words written on his face without Danyal ever having to say it.

Because, dangit, he was technically right. Damian refuses to say this aloud. He screws his jaw shut, and crosses his arms back across his chest.

Danny chuckles under his breath, and turns his eyes back to the ghost zone. "My point still stands, either you wear the suit, or you don't leave the speeder."

"Fine."

+++

They eventually find where the seamstress is. Through quite a lot of Danny stopping to ask questions with any friendly ghost he came across, they eventually locate an island with a strange, urban city bustling with life on it. Massive, rocky stalagmites grew from the ground, and buildings were built on top of it or around it, with strange, warping architecture.

It was oddly beautiful.

Danny parked the speeder on the side of the street with a two hour parking sign on a nearby post. As he turned off the engine, he flipped a switch on the console that darkened the windows. He unbuckles his seat, and stood up, stretching out his back with a deep groan.

"Alright, put your suit on. The windows are tinted, so nobody should be able to see into the speeder." He orders, pulling out the duffle he brought in earlier and unzipping it. He pulls out his hockey mask and the hoodie he wore out for patrol, and the notebook they'd been using to jot down ideas for their suit.

Danny even had the hindsight to write in their respective heights, and with Tucker's help, some of their measurements. While he did that, Damian sourly pulled on his hazmat suit, irritated by the need to wear it.

Unfortunately, he also had to wear the boots and gloves for 'extra precaution'. Damian nearly bites out a grumpy 'you're as paranoid as father', but holds his tongue. He wasn't going to tell Danyal that secret.

Once he was done and Danny has his hockey mask and hoodie on, Danny grabs the gas mask and helps fit it over Damian's face. It was a sleek, simple design, shaped similarly to a regular face mask, with little filters on both sides of the mouth and a clear, protective covering around the eyes and forehead. Danyal improved it from the original his parents made.

He was smarter than he gave himself credit for.

Danny checks, then double checks that it the mask is tight, then smiles. Patting Damian's shoulders before standing up fully. "Taylor's shop should be somewhere nearby." He says, grabbing the notebook and tucking it under his arm.

Damian nods, and follows him out the door and onto the busy streets.

Finding Taylor becomes remarkably quick now that they were inside her city - something that Damian silently wondered was based loosely off NYC. Danny kept a firm arm around Damian's shoulders the entire time they walked down the street, keeping the both of them on the inside sidewalk.

Barely anyone passed them a second glance, spare the few odd looks shot at Damian. Danny whispers to him the first time it happens that it's because he has no ghost core, those more attune to their signatures might've been picking up on it.

They didn't notice Danny, because he had one, albeit a weak one.

Taylor's shop has a big sign on it in logographic writing that Damian has no idea how to read. The text shifts slowly, a jambled squiggle of lines, dots, and connected curves that look like a mix of messy cursive, gibberish, and logographic alphabets. He only knows its Taylor's shop because Danny pulls them towards it, stating that it was the place.

"You can read that?" He asks, incredulous as they draw closer to the door. Danny moves his arm off his shoulder, and wraps his fingers around Damian's instead.

"Yep," He replies, then scrunches his nose up, "sort of. It's - uh--" he stumbles over a word that Damian's ears cannot comprehend, but fills his head with slight static regardless. Danny winces. "It's the written form of ghostspeak, but since I'm not a ghost, I can only read some of it. Like uh, dyslexia."

"...I see." Damian says after a moment of silence, trying to replay the word in his head. His mind can't grasp the sound.

When they enter, the door doesn't ding with the sound of a bell, but rather it makes a low scream. Nobody bats an eye to the sound, keeping to their slow search through the racks of clothes.

At the counter was a woman talking quietly to another woman, one of whom Danny recognizes, as he walks over to her.

He doesn't need to say anything, because the woman behind the counter sees him coming, and her face positively lights up with delight. "Phantom!" She cries, and gestures to come over. "I was wondering when in the high ancients you were going to come see me!"

Danny's face is obscured by his mask, but Damian knows he's smiling sheepishly with the way he tilts his head and the way he tenses his shoulders. "My bad, Miss Taylor," he says, reaching the counter and standing beside the woman she was talking to, "It kinda... slipped my mind."

Taylor waves her hand dismissively, "Well you are here now!" She replies, grinning wide. Then her eyes pop open - literally - and she puts a hand over her chest. "Oh, how rude of me!" She turns and gestures between Phantom and the lady next to him, "Miss Mabam, this is Phantom. I told you about him a couple of years ago. He saved me from humans. Phantom, this is Gigi Mabam, she funds my shop. In return I make clothes for her and her staff."

The 'Gigi' woman turns just as Danny does, and smiles wide at him. Damian narrows his eyes at her, shuffling behind Danny legs as he looked her up and down. She had silvery-white hair and purple skin, and wore a darker purple business suit, a red gem cravat at her collar, and teal cat-eye glasses.

There was a lot of purple.

"So this is the ghost-touched you were telling me about, dear!" The woman, Mabam, said. Her voice was rich and low but she spoke in a whimsical cadence. It made Damian's skin crawl, and his narrowed eyes turned into a glare. "I must thank you for saving my seamstress, it would've been quite a fizzy-wink if she had been lost to those ghosty hunters."

What were those nonsense words? Damian hated it.

"Miss Mabam here runs a five-star hotel nearby," Taylor explains, her body turned to Danny, "she also is in charge of the city's Battle Nexus."

Danny is silent for a moment, and his free hand lifts and places itself on the back of Damian's head, keeping him close. "Battle Nexus...?"

Mabam claps cheerfully, laughing low, "Oh yes! Ghosts from all around the zone come to attend and watch as their fellow haunties are ripped from limbity-limb in a blood-curdling battle!"

Danny is still as stone. "I see." He says, careful. Damian wraps his fingers around his pant leg. "Well, I hate to interrupt your conversation, but I was hoping to cash in that favor, Miss Taylor?"

"Of course! What do you need?"

Danny looks down at Damian, and he looks up at him, locking eyes with the ominous green glowing from the eyeslits of his mask. He nods, and Danny looks back up. "Do you know how to make suits? Of the protective kind?"

+++

The seamstress it turns out, is capable of such a thing. And she ushers the both of them into one of the backrooms, sending off Mabam with a farewell and a promise to continue their conversation soon.

She flips through their design book, and immediately gets to work making their suits. In the end, with the help of her powers, she gets both done over the span of four hours. It's longer than both Danny and Damian want, but neither rush her.

Damian just hopes that Jasmine can keep the Fenton parents distracted for that long. She will have to.

The suits are better in real life than on paper, and Damian preens from the side in his own custom suit as Danny examines his own in front of the three mirrors. They were both dressed in all black, but whatever fabric Taylor used was of a blackest-black, turning Danyal - and Damian's - bodies into a black hole to look at. Both of them were fitted for agility, with reinforced padding around their shoulders and chests, as well as around the joints of their legs. Their boots were reinforced as well.

("It was hard to make your boots shock absorbent," Taylor explains, "since we all fly, but I applied similar stuff to what I did with your shoulders and chestplate.")

On the side of Danyal's legs were raised, black, lichtenberg-like figures that were contained to the seams and disappeared under his boots. There were similar designs going up his sleeves, with spiked gauntlets wrapped around his lower arm and hands. The knuckles were reinforced, just like he wanted.

Damian's favorite parts were their capes, however. Black like the rest of the outfit, but "wrapped" around their shoulders like an apocalyptic shawl with a back that went down to their knees, and at the hems the capes were torn and ripped like a wraith. Danyal's mask had gone through very little change. It was made of a stronger material, and Taylor had gone and made it more skull-like in its shape, with three large grills at the front, and the sides curving inward below the 'cheekbones' of the skull to better fit his face. It was still shock white, the only white part of Danyal's entire costume.

Damian's suit was almost identical. However, rather than having the seams of his suit resemble lichtenberg figures, the seams of his sleeves and upper torso were that of a black skeleton, with bone-y designs over his gauntlets and the fingers an ombre of dark red-to-black. And around his torso were raised lines that looked similar to a ribcage. The edge of his cloak was splatter a dark red as well. And he had a new domino mask that looked similar to the upper half of Danyal's mask, with the outer edges curved downward over his cheekbones. He was briefly allowed to take off the upper part of his gas mask to try on the mask.

The best part however, was that since the suits were made of material native to the ghost zone, they could also be taken off quickly and hidden in a small artifact. It was magic, is what it was. Danyal chose earrings, and Damian chose a ring.

When they got back to the Fenton house, Jazz demands a box of chocolate for her hard work. Damian thinks that's only fair as Danny takes them both out to get candy for Jazz.

+++

But other than vigilante stuff, not else much changes. Danny gets to pull a "Dad By Technicality Rule" card over Damian when he's being a brat. Danny doesn't have his run in with Rift (a ghost who portals him into Gotham) until after he meets Damian/lets Damian join him on patrol and when they get new suits.

My reason? Because I want it to happen after that point in time lol. It also makes the eventual "heyyyyy you have a clone" @ bruce much funnier to me because not only does he have a clone of HIMSELF but also THAT clone has a clone of Damian living with him.

Also when Danny destabilizes for the first time Damian is terrified for his safety. The fentons are surprisingly good at cloning, Danny hasn't had any issues up until this point in time, and that's only because he got hit with a new gun from Skulker that messed up the ectoplasm he had in his dna, which in term fucked with his own DNA.

Danny's destabilization, imo, is not "I cast you with Melt" he's not Ellie, he's not made of 50% ectoplasm. His parents surprisingly knew what they were doing, and he was human. So his destabilization should be unique to himself and different. Thus his destabilization is "I cast you with Compromised Immune System" his body slowly weakens over time as his cells destabilize. He becomes unnaturally frail and sick. Damian calls Ellie for help when Danny doesn't get up after being hit in a fight that he normally, and Ellie helps figure out that he's destabilizing. This is whats gonna happen in OG clone au too, but Ellie is going to be there rather than Damian.

It makes going to Wayne Manor after that slightly more interesting,,,

#dpxdc crossover #dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton is not the ghost king #danny fenton is a clone #damian clone au #i couldnt NOT describe their new suits. i just couldn't. they're leaning into the ghost culture of being scary as fuck looking #i feel a little cheesy for giving them magic jewelry that lets them hide their suits instantly #but i have to make up for danny's lack of ghost form SOMEHOW #damian just gets it too by association #if anyone is curious #Ellie's ghost form is identical to Danny's suit just the colors are inverted. so her suit is all white and her mask is all black #its not a starry au unless its got a read more #did anyone notice the Big Mama cameo from ROTTMNT #its because Danny's mask looks like Casey Jones Jr's mask from ROTTMNT without the red marks on the eyes #Danny and Damian's dynamic itches my brain #Danny: im calling Dad Rights - youre grounded #Damian: nnOOOO #also also. danny uses sign language if he's in view of the living since they could recognize his voice. damian does not yet know ASL #so thats on his 'languages to learn' list #although he is not seen by the public since he has school and ghost attacks happen around danny and not him #Red Huntress gives the Phantom so much shit when she sees his sidekick. Phantom tiredly explains that he had no choice - Wraith would have #come with anyways. truly a robin at heart.#“idc if you say no imma do vigilantism ANYWAY. i dont NEED ur permission” is robincore and bruce/danny going #“fine but i'm gonna make sure you dont DIE then”#clone^2

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yuoimia · 4 months ago

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OUR SUMMER DREAM

summary: beneath the radiance of cloudless skies, a summer memory is tied between the two of you. days with them - summer edition!

characters: wanderer, xiao, diluc, alhaitham, neuvillette, kazuha, ayato, zhongli

notes: gn! reader, soft and sweet, fluff, teasing, wc: 1.3k

soft splashes of aquamarine waves, sparklers in hand, the flash of a digital camera - wanderer, xiao.

“don’t wander too far.”

“oh c’mon,” you exasperated, tugging his arm a bit harder again, letting a humoured laugh escape from your lips. “if you’re so scared of getting lost, then you should hold my hand-“

“i know what you’re planning,” he replied knowingly, lightly elbowing your side with his free hand, a fierce gaze reflecting the flickering embers of the sparkler in his other hand, twinkling and incandescent with matching ferocity that was rapidly dissipating.

you sighed and shook your head with a tut, accompanied with a lazy gesture towards the horizon, now swallowed in breathtaking shades of rich indigo and navy, streaked with the last ribbons of daylight.

the waves tumbled one over the other, idly lapping at the golden shore sprinkled with pearly shells and tangled seaweed, each swash permeating a stinging scent of salt.

“i promise i won’t push you into the water,” you nodded solemnly, pulling him and his skepticism closer. “i promise,” you enunciated, putting on what seemed like a confident expression of benevolence before refocusing your attention on the smooth sand delivered by the ocean.

“that’s not what i was worried about,” he muttered under his breath, making his way down to where you were, seemingly inspecting something in the sand, two newly lit sparklers in his hand, softly illuminating a golden path.

“cute, isn’t it?” you grinned, smiling adoringly at the red crab, crouching down further. “look!”

he looked, trying to find what was so amusing, only releasing too late the trap he had fallen into.

“say cheese!” you exclaimed, pulling something out of your bag instantly recognisable by the quantity of cat stickers and its signature flash.

double cuteness. an upturned crab and a certain wide-eyed person illuminating them both with the light of burning stars.

low whirrs of a running fan, windows thrown open, a bowl of freshly cut watermelon between the two of you - diluc, alhaitham.

any agonising second now, you’d pathetically melt into a miserable puddle on the cool vinyl floor.

any second now, you’d make a suffering groan, thrust the electric fan closer, and aimlessly stab a fork into the bowl of perfectly cut watermelon and momentarily delight in its juice before staring disinterestedly through the sheer curtains of the opened window, hugging your knees with your arms. there wasn’t much to do on an afternoon in one of the most insufferable summer heatwaves ever.

“why does it have to be so hot,” you complained to nobody in particular, patting your cheeks and forehead. there’s hasn’t been a single breeze in the last five minutes.

“you should find something to do,” a voice swept from behind. snapping your head backwards. you revealed a look of contempt in his direction. “it’s too hot to move.”

he examined you from where he was dusting the bookshelf, his fingers tracing the books with great care. “you’re moving your mouth.”

“even talking makes me exhausted,” you turned to shove another bite of watermelon, a ghost of a pout resting on your lips. it wasn’t as cool anymore, but rather unpleasant now that it had reached room temperature.

“with a mind like yours, i’d expect you to be able to easily entertain yourself,” he cooed, now sitting on the end of the bed, just above where you sat. further tilting his head downward, he brushed the loose strands of your hair, eyelashes fluttering in your peripheral vision. “unless…” came a soothing whisper, “you wanted my attention all along?”

when met with no reply other than your tentative gaze and deep breaths, he laughed, removing his hand from your hair and sitting back on the bed. “i was just joking.”

from our favourite spot for sunsets, ice creams in hand, wistful thoughts and eyes - neuvillette, kazuha

if you could, you’d polish this memory until it was clearer and brighter than any bygone jewel and store it in a small box sealed within layers of dreamy clouds, tied with a chain of love.

away from the ambience of the blaring city, out into the forgotten outskirts that always looked so far away, hidden under vine-covered overhangs, between the sharp scent of evergreen pine trees, cold and invigorating. through blooming meadows and woods of delicate wildflowers, sometimes met with a plain of deer and foxes. up here, up high, breathing in the quiet beauty, the rays of sunset hugging you both in a comforting embrace.

“it’s been a while since i’ve done something like this,” he whispers before releasing a fond laugh, his face tinged with the slightest pale hue of cherry, spreading from the apple of his cheeks to the line of his jaw, either from the bountiful crispness of the fresh breeze whipping through the windswept grass you both laid on, adorned with dandelions, and the hum of the last hardworking bees.

“hm, really? we should do this more often,” you acknowledged warmly, turning to lie on your side, propped up with an elbow. pushing a loose strand of hair from his face, you watched with no particular intention but to just look. not in an uneasy way, something more unattached, more open for thoughts to run free and connect once again.

he smiled at the linger of your touch, bringing a hand to lock yours in place just below his ear, between his neck. “you always come up with such wonderful ideas,” he murmured, the gentleness far from innocent, chuckling at your sudden rapt attention. “your ice cream is melting.”

vibrant vivid lights, screams and smiles, the delicious aroma of buttered popcorn - ayato, zhongli.

one might assume that he was enjoying this more than you were.

“don’t you think it’s time to give up?” you proposed, eyeing him and the fluorescent vending machine with profound disapproval when he had simply sighed, the glass reflection exhibiting his contemplative face. “it’s been nearly half an hour, you know.”

he turned briefly to raise an eyebrow, his hand still on the joystick. “didn’t you say you wanted the panda?”

he’s concerned about that? you feel a sudden urge to burst into laughter, or maybe even slap his hand, still stuck onto the motionless joystick.

“i’ll be fine without it,” you shook your head, rubbing your forehead with a smile towards the ground. winning or losing, the earnestness with which he took your previous offhand comment made the butterflies in your stomach soar a bit too high for such a casual night.

for a few seconds, silence simmered in the cool air, your eyes scanning the striped tents, the constellations of bubbles drifting behind the faces of happy children, the cheerful vendors and their tied bags of coins, landing on a particular cluster of food stalls beneath an arched entryway lit by twinkling amber fairy lights, failing to notice the inconspicuous set of eyes still fixed on you.

“do you want to eat something?” he finally asked, easily noting your prolonged attention at the bustling entryway. he intertwined your hands together, before faintly tugging you forward, tightening his hold as you began to navigate the busy lane, stopping at the first stall.

“there are so many things i want to try,” you breathed, bending down to analyse the chalkboard menu with a cursive title reading: specials.

but which ones to pick? you chewed over it, edging closer to the list. which one..

“are you finished?” came a hushed voice behind your ear. “we need to find a table before they all get taken.”

“what do you mean? i haven’t-“

standing above to your left, he smiled with a small sense of pride, his hands filled with the menu of specials.

#genshin x reader #genshin fluff #wanderer x reader #xiao x reader #diluc x reader #alhaitham x reader #neuvillette x reader #kazuha x reader #zhongli x reader #ayato x reader #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#anya writes ᝰ.ᐟ

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peachiekeaneart · 9 months ago

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Yall. Sign and date your art.

I’m serious. Put your name on your art. Put your actual signature on it if you want. Write out the full date. Make it obvious and central so it can’t easily be cropped or edited out. Make it slightly fuzzy around the edges for good measure. Make it all sorts of colors, textures, make it hard to remove fromyour art. Ask yourself “if i was an art thief, how much time and effort would it take me to remove my signature?” If the answer is less than an hour than make it harder.

If ppl want a copy that isn’t covered in your name, make em sign a contract that it’s for non ai, personal use only and make em pay for it.

I don’t care how amateur you are. I’ve been physically signing and dating my artwork since I was 9 years old. Every single one. Bc my mom told me that was the best way to make sure everyone knew it was yours. It’s literally the only good advice my mother has ever given me.

Sign your art. Proudly put your name, username, date, what program you used, how much time it took, whatever you want. Make it part of the piece. Make it so obvious who made it. If your art is getting stolen anyway, why not make it as hard to steal as possible. If someone wants to steal your artwork that badly make em fucking WORK for it.

Put your name on it

#art #art theft #ai art

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f1goat · 1 year ago

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his teammate + lando norris x part nine

In which you find yourself getting closer to your brothers new teammate who's a dick.

lando norris x fem!verstappen (sister) + cursewords + smut

Y/N: fuck lan

Y/N: it’s insane how hot you look on the podium

Lando: meet me in my drivers room.

Y/N: sure? What if someone sees?

Lando: now babygirl.

Excited you walk towards Lando his drivers room. This was exactly the response you hoped for. The race has left you all worked up. You didn’t expect it to have such an impact on you. Last week you barely saw Lando and in the race weekend it was even harder to have time alone with him. But after seeing Lando on the podium looking like that, you seem to care a bit less about risks like this.

When you open the door, Lando is already standing close to you. He’s quick to pull you into the small room and shut the door behind. Before you know it, he is all over you. You feel Lando his lips onto your neck. He’s leaving small kisses everywhere.

“Fuck Lan,” you sigh when he sucks on a bit of your skin. He removes his lips from your skin, you’re quick to change your position. You drop on your knees, making your intentions quite obvious towards Lando. He smirks. You wait for him to pull of his race suit. Something that doesn’t take him too long. He’s standing in front of you in his briefs in no time.

You bring your hand to his briefs, slowly you palm his already hardened member through them. Lando lets out a soft groan. “Don’t tease,” he mutters. You show him a small smile before removing his briefs as well. His member springs free on instant. You bring your hand towards it, slowly you stroke him.

“You looked so hot on the podium,” you tell Lando again.

“Maybe I should fuck you on the podium once,” Lando replies boldly.

You laugh, “I’d like to see you try.”

Lando lets out a moan when you take the tip of his member into your mouth. You use a bit of spit to make sure you can slide easily around him with your mouth. Slowly you start to bob your head a bit and take him in and outside your mouth over and over again. Lando grunts. You use your hand to stroke the bit you can’t fit into your mouth. You increase your pace.

“Fuck babygirl,” Lando moans when you start to suck a bit more. He lets his hands slide through your hair, before grabbing a few loose strands. He pulls them softly. It causes you to look up at Lando. He shows you another signature smirk, something you start to grow fond of.

You increase your pace once more. If you’re right, Lando can come every moment now. You notice his short breaths and the soft moans that keep coming out of his mouth. You use your free hand to apply a bit of pressure onto his balls. Softly you knead them a bit. That was all Lando needed. The simple movement pulls him right into his orgasm.

Lando stays silent while he watches you. He sees the way you suck him empty and how you lick the last drop of his cum away. He realizes how different things are with you. Of course he had blowjobs before - a lot even, but not one of them felt like this. He almost worries about who caused you to be this good at it. He helps you stand up and guides you towards the small sofa in the room. Together you sit down in silence. Lando pulls you close towards himself, causing you to lay onto him. Not that you mind.

“If that was only a celebration for P3 I can’t wait to win a race,” Lando jokes to you.

“Was it okay?” You ask nervous, “I never did something like that before by someone else.”

“You never did that before?” Lando asks confused, he needs to make sure that he heard you right. He can’t believe his ears at this moment. He probably just heard what he wanted to hear.

“Only last time with you,” you answer, “and now.”

“Fucking hell babygirl,” Lando sighs relieved, “you’re a natural.”

It’s insane how good he feels now that he knows you have only done that for him. Only for him. That must be the best thing he has heard today. Even better then his third place. You look up at Lando and notice his smile. Without thinking about it you press a kiss against his lips. Lando pulls you even closer against himself.

+++

“Where were you?” Max asks you.

You try to think of some excuse. Fuck, you’re the worst right now. Max just won a race and you were busy with giving his teammate a blowjob. Lando shows up behind you.

“Sorry I stole her from you,” Lando tells your brother, “I had a question about a present.”

“A present for who?” Max asks him interested, “Have you found a girlfriend?”

Lando doesn’t answer anymore, he just winks at you and Max while he walks away. You let out a relieved sigh. He really saved you.

“I must confess, he’s really getting better,” Max tells you, “I even start to like him.”

“That’s great,” you reply to Max, “I think he’s trying.”

“I think so too,” Max says, “and maybe I need to try a bit more as well. I’ll ask him to come over for dinner when we’re back in Monaco.”

“That seems nice,” you answer. Fuck how are you going to manage a dinner with Lando and your brother without showing Max what’s happening between the two of you? You sigh.

“What kind of present was he looking for?” Max asks you.

“Uh, to be honest something for you,” you improvise. You almost slap yourself. That’s the worst answer ever. “For the win or something,” you continue to lie.

“That’s nice.”

Max walks off and you pull out your phone as soon as you can. Quickly you type a text to Lando.

Y/N: you might have to get Max a present

Lando: you’re the worst liar ever

Lando: you better help me think of something

+++

“I miss you,” Lando sighs.

You feel your cheeks reddening. At the moment your FaceTiming with Lando, something the two of you do quite often.

“And you look really cute when you blush,” Lando adds before you can respond to his earlier statement.

“I miss you too,” you tell him, “but in a few you’ll come for dinner, right?”

“Yeah, but that’ll be even harder,” Lando replies, “It’s hard for me to act like there’s nothing going on between us.”

“We really need to act tonight,” you say, “Kelly is also here and she notices those things way better then Max.”

“Yes, yes,” Lando laughs, “You have only told me that like a hundred times before.”

“Sorry,” you reply with a grin.

“I promise I’ll behave,” Lando says, “but only if no one starts about Pierre again.”

You get Lando his words. A few days ago you got another text from Pierre, asking you for a date once again. You kindly replied that you weren’t interested, but it seemed like the message wasn’t clear enough. He keeps reaching out to you every day. Not only by text, but also on other socials. He replies on your Instagram photo’s as well. Something Lando really dislikes. Fans are already starting rumors about Pierre and you. Dating rumors even.

“Even then you need to behave,” you tell Lando.

Lando groans annoyed. You laugh at him.

“When are you free to do something together?” Lando asks you, “Because I really want to see you without others around.”

“Tomorrow?” You suggest.

“Deal.”

“Now I really need to get ready,” you tell Lando, “so I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay babe, see you later.”

A small hour later you’re ready for the dinner. You couldn’t help yourself and dressed up a bit more then you’d do normally for a casual dinner. While looking at yourself in the mirror you spray a bit of perfume on. The dress you’re wearing fits you nicely, but is a bit more on the wide side then normally. The skirt is floating around your legs. It’s a dark blue color, something that reminds you of RedBull. Maybe you should wear it to a race once. Camera’s are on you a lot there and fashion is getting more and more important on track.

When you walk downstairs, you already hear the bell ringing.

“I’ll get it,” you yell to Max and Kelly. That will give you a small minute alone with Lando. You walk towards the door and open it. Lando is quick to look at you.

“Fuck you look good,” he tells you quickly.

“Does every compliment need a curse word?” You ask Lando jokingly.

“They show how much I mean it,” he replies.

You press a fast kiss against Lando his lips. Then you take him towards the dining room with you. Lando looks around while walking in Max his apartment. He notices different photos on the wall and is quick to spot you on a couple of those as well.

“No Jos?” He asks you while still looking at the photos, “At least not on the same photos as you’re on,” he adds.

“That’s a longer conversation,” you tell Lando, “but I’ll explain it to you, maybe tomorrow.”

Lando can’t reply to you anymore, Max and Kelly are already standing close by the two of you. Lando thinks about his own family issues, he only told his friend Max about those. Maybe it will be nice to talk about it with you as well? It seems like you also have some problems. It doesn’t surprise him a lot, he didn’t officially met Jos but he already has an opinion about the Verstappen father.

“Hey!” Max greets Lando enthusiastically. Kelly is quick to greet him the same way. Lando hands Max a gift bag. You almost laugh about it. He is saving your lie. You didn’t even think about that anymore.

“I uh,” Lando starts his sentence, but he’s quick to fall silent for a bit. This isn’t his thing, but he knows he needs to do this. “I wanted to thank you for the second chance,” he continues, “I know I’ve been an ass and don’t really deserve it. So thanks I guess.”

Max is stunned. Kelly also looks surprised.

“That’s unnecessary,” Max says eventually, “but I appreciate it man. It goes both ways, I’m glad we fixed things.”

Lando gives him a small smile. In the mean time Max unwraps the gift. You smirk when you notice it’s something for his cats. It seems like Lando picked out a present which you normally give to an old cat lady, but thank god you brother is one of those as well. Max instantly starts to smile. He unwraps the cat treats and toys while talking about how amazing it is.

Dinner flies by. You’re surprised by how much Lando and Max are talking with each other. It almost seems like they’re friends. You think about how Max will react when you’ll tell him about Lando and you. Maybe it’s better to wait a bit longer. Now Max is starting to like Lando, that’s better. If they keep this friendly with each other you could tell your brother.

When Lando leaves Max is talking full enthusiasm about him and how the evening went. Kelly beams and agrees with him as well. They both talk about how much Lando has changed in such a short time.

“I wonder for who,” Kelly says after a while.

“For the team I guess,” Max replies.

Kelly laughs loudly. “RedBull is great Max, but not that great,” she says, “this isn’t for the team, there’s someone else.”

“Someone else?” You ask surprised.

“A girl,” Kelly answers, “boys don’t change like that except when they’re in love with someone.”

“You think?” Max asks.

“Look at yourself Max, you changed a lot since we started dating,” Kelly explains, “I’m not saying it’s all for the girl, but she’s probably the reason behind his motivation.”

Could it be that Kelly is right? Then you should be that girl, right? Is Lando changing this much for you? He did tell you that he is trying to better himself for you. You start to blush when you think about it.

“Who can it be?” Max asks, “I haven’t seen him with a girl for a while.”

“It can be that he isn’t dating her, maybe he’s just in love,” Kelly replies.

“Maybe it’s you!” Max suddenly says while looking at you. “He’s always interested in you lately,” Max adds to explain himself, “like he asks about you a lot.”

“I don’t think so,” you stammer.

“I wouldn’t rule it out,” Kelly replies, “he looks at you a lot.”

“He does not,” you reply.

Max and Kelly share a glance with each other. They’re both thinking the same, but they’re not telling you about it. They know it will come later.

+++

Later that night you’re texting with Lando while making yourself ready for bed. When you pull of your dress, you notice a new text message from Lando popping up.

Lando: did I behave good enough?

Y/N: you were the best

Y/N: you should have heard them about you, they were really excited!

Lando: sooo how will you thank me?

Y/N: thank you?

Lando: i did something for you, so now you can do something for me ;)

Without giving it a second thought you look at yourself in the mirror. You look at your matching black lace lingerie set. Then you snap a photo of yourself. Quickly you send it to Lando.

Lando: fuuuuck princess

Lando: i can’t wait to have you for myself tomorrow

Y/N: ;)

part ten

taglist ; @whore8io & @chonkybonky & @love4lando & @eviethetheatrefreak

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris imagine #ln4 #formula one #f1 #lando norris imagines #lando norris smut

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adobe-outdesign · 3 months ago

Note

Have you reviewed the Bruce, and particularly my favorite variety of the Bruce (the ULTRA ultra UC version)?

(I don't have any Pokemon review requests in my inbox right now but I do have a few Neopet requests, so I'll go ahead and do one of those.)

I might as well talk about the history of the Bruce first, because while I don't normally bother going over past iterations for these reviews everyone should know that the first incarnation of the Bruce was a 150 x 150 photograph of esteemed British entertainer Bruce Forsyth sloppily recolored and slapped onto a circle. I literally could not make this up if I tried.

While the Bruce isn't the only Neopet that started off as a human, it A) was the only one to start with a realistic photograph instead of a caricature, and B) is also the only one to retain some aspects of its human design: namely the signature bow(tie) and the name (plus penguins already look like they're wearing suits in a way).

Visually, today's modern Bruce is pretty cute. It's mostly just a standard penguin, but they've got very appealing faces and a sort of plush chubbiness to them that not a lot of Neopets sport. While pets wearing clothes by default isn't always my favorite thing, the bow does work well with everything else and still makes sense in-universe for anthro Bruces (side note: the irony of an anthro Bruce is not lost on me).

The body is broken up with distinct markings that are based off of emperor penguins—though ironically, they're based on emperor chicks, to the point where the Baby Bruce is just a slightly smaller version of the regular Bruce. The Bruce does extend the face markings down into an underbelly however, which looks very natural and helps to break up the torso.

Visually, nothing really changed about the Bruce with customization other than it standing up and gaining a fist. I think I like the converted version a bit more, as while the original pose was cute it was also harder to see aspects of the design (like the tail). The flipper anatomy and general lineart/details have also been greatly approved. Also, the bow became removable, which is a bonus.

Favorite Colours:

Island: A surprisingly nice take on the colour, the island Bruce has an usually dark brown palette, which pops nicely with the white markings and compliments the flowers and greenery nicely. The markings are well-placed with good thought as to how they interact with the body shape and the green eyes are pretty and draw the color through the design well. The floral accents can also be removed, which provides a pretty nice base colour as well.

Wraith: The wraith Bruce is quite a bit different than most takes on the colour. Wraith pets are usually flat with intricate body shapes—think like a tattoo. However, the wraith Bruce opts for a more solid body shape that uses subtle gradients and very carefully placed highlights to give it a sense of depth. The face and beak look really good here, and the way the white highlights on the edge of the body fade off into nothing is really cool. My only minor quibble is that I wish there was one thin line indicating the underbelly markings, as the torso looks a bit too solid here.

Toy: The toy Bruce is slightly redundant because the plushie Bruce is already a thing, but between the two, I do like the toy design a bit more. The flocked and fluffy look is super cute and works great for the pet, and I like the contrast between the hard flippers and beak and the rest of the body. The penguin-like monotone body color is offset by the red bow, which has a nice subtle plaid pattern to it. My only nitpick is that I would've just dropped the single head feather entirely, as it looks out of place and doesn't really make logical sense. Still, good stuff all around.

#neopets #neotag #bruce #neopet reviews

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year ago

Note

How would Host react if one day I decided to dress up as and mimic him for a show

Just what are you up to today?

As a consumer of tricks and mischief himself, Host could tell you had a few up your sleeve from the smirk in your eyes down to the tiny hiccups between each word as you asked him to keep all eyes off your dressing room today. Cute. He decided to play along as he had full trust you wouldn't run off, and only a monster would resist such a harmless and innocent request. He was a tad disappointed to hear you wouldn't be there to start the show, but as long as you were there by its climax it'd be yet another smash hit. Host figured he'd do his part and hype up the crowd for your arrival. He hasn't been this excited since that corrupt politician you brought on the other week. His tie is grey today. That's an interesting development

The curtains draw and Host steps out on stage, welcomed by the cheers and appulse of your crowd. They're a rowdy lot today - right off the bat. What's got them so livened up already?

"Good-Day, Folks. Welcome to another exciting episode of your favorite show -"

"With your favorite host!"

Host taps his mic. He wasn't used to feedback unless for comedic effect. The crowd cheers and hollers all the same from the combined greeting - and from the unsteady click of heels on the title floor Host knew he was no longer alone. He twists his head to look back at the figure emerging from the cover of shadows - microphone in hand.

"Well, Well - what's this now? Surprised to see me?"

A confident smirk dawns their face; stride as professional and flashy as their bandaged eyes could lead guided by two stage hands. Their usual flare swapped out with a grey business suit. Hair slicked back to the best of their capabilities and voice carrying that boastful charm. His copy walks up to him, halted by one of their helpers. They whisper something in their ear and the copy's smile grows.

"If it isn't my doppelganger. Handsome devils, aren't we?"

Host does a doubletake at your attire; camera zoomed in on you from all angles. Posture to dress - you were a spitting image; eyes wrapped up with some bandages to complete his signature look. Feeling the relentless stares you've grown accustomed to, you tilt your head up at him. You swap your mic with his as you saulter over to his desk, kicking your feet up on the table as you take your seat. Your left leg missing the table due to your altered sight, but you pick yourself back up and swing it over your right.

"That's better. These shoes are killing me. Speaking of which, how are our dear guests?."

The stage goes dead quiet. Not even a whisper, or an awkward cough to clear the air. You lift your hand up to remove the bandages.

"Haha..."

Host's chest rises with a breath.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA."

He keels over, clutching his ribcage as he bellows a pitched laugh perfectly synced with the millions of voices in the crowd. He laughs harder, bending to his knees as he squeezes his chest tighter and tighter til theirs a faint crack!. He snickers; practically wheezing as he tries to get out a single word between his fit of hysterics. He scrapes black mucus from the corners of his mouth, shoulders bouncing with a silent giggle as he rises and stumbles over in your direction.

"Y/n... Your performance.. It's so spectacular, it's moved me to tears! I knew I picked the most excellent show host in the biz. I haven't laughed that hard in ages. I think I've fallen in love all over again! I knew you'd always upstage me, but if there's anyone who could successfully steal my show - it's you."

The overhead lights blind you as he carefully peals the wrappings from your face. "But if I can make one request, do be a me solid and don't cover up these pretty eyes of yours. Can't have a good show if every part of you isn't accounted for, and you'll need them to see the faces on our dear guests when we bring them out. Today, more than any, we'll knock'em for sure. I look forward to your full act."

#yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere x you #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere scenarios #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere #Host my oc #yandere god #yandere teratophilia #soft yandere

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jaemmphilia · 1 year ago

Text

★ mixtape: king of amarillo ★ || han j.s

★ summary: it's the next morning, and you and han are awoken by a certain puppy barging in and teasing the two of you after last night's activities. filming continues and you're left wondering what's next for you as the newest member of stray kids.

★ pairing: han jisung x 9th member!male!reader

★ warnings and rating: (16+ rating), language and mentions of a injury, mentions of surgery, reader was in a bad injury and has some long-term damage, mentions of possible nudity??

★ word count: 2.3k (2399)

★ binnie's thoughts: guys... this is the final part of the black diamonds series!! i'm a little sad that it's over, but i'm relieved because now i have time to bring you all more content!! also, i switched up the mission where they replicate each other's baby pictures just so i could fit in the reader. so, it doesn't follow the episode exactly.

★ requested?: X

★ disclaimer: this fic in absolutely NO WAY represents the stray kids members as people or as a group. this is simply just a work of fiction for entertainment, so enjoy!

“Stay, join me in waking up these rowdy members.” Seungmin whispers to his hand-held camera as he ventures through the house, going room to room waking up his members.

Once he makes his way to your room and he cracks the door open, peeking inside. He makes sure the camera can’t see inside the room, and he snickers at the sight of a naked, toned back. That has to be YN-hyung, he thinks to himself before turning off the camera. He slips into the room and hovers over the bed. He takes out his phone and snaps a few pictures and sends them to Lee Know, who he can hear gasp dramatically with a loud, “i knew it!” ringing through the house.

Seungmin shakes your bare shoulder, watching as you stir and pull Han’s sleeping body closer to you. Seungmin shakes you again but harder this time, smiling as you squint up at him.

“Seungmin-ah, what are you doing here? What time is it?” Your voice is deep with sleep, the raspines of it making Seungmin’s eyes widen a little.

He straightens up before answering you, “It’s almost eight in the morning. Everyone else is already awake. You and Hannie are the last ones, but it seems like you might need some extra time to, you know,” he snickers, “get decent and covered up wherever needed.”

You’re definitely smelling what he’s stepping in, and you’re already annoyed by it. You wave him off and remove your arms from Han’s sleeping form, earning a soft whine from him. You begin to sit up, making Seungmin’s eyes go wide as he notices the blanket falling off your naked body. He bolts out of the room. He doesn’t want his innocent eyes to land on anything they aren’t supposed to.

You roll your eyes and shake Han gently. You listen to him huff before he finally wakes up. “Was that Seungmin’s voice I heard?” He asks groggily, and you hum to confirm. You’re pulling on a fresh pair of boxers and a pair of sweatpants. You toss Han’s clothes at him blindly, not realizing the poor boy got pelted in the face. He lets out his signature strangled noise as he falls back onto the bed dramatically.

You turn to him simply and huff. “Han what are you doing? Stop fooling around and get dressed before anyone gets suspicious!” You bark out to him, slipping on a black and orange hoodie.

“I’m not fooling around, hyung! You just pelted me with my own clothes!” He cries out as he puts on the clothes you oh-so-rudely threw at him. “This is the thanks I get after last night? How rude.”

You snort and fix your hair in the vanity mirror. You glance at him through said mirror, watching as he covers his toned body. You watch as he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your shoulder loosely. He peppers light kisses against the side of your head, and you lean into his touch. You can’t help but like the way this feels. The way his warm hands touch you so gently, leaving your skin tingling when he pulls away.

But how long would it last?

The question had bounced around in your mind all night long, causing you to toss and turn in your sleep. It wasn’t until Han wrapped his arms around you that you calmed down enough to sleep fully. His presence alone had calmed your thoughts, lulling you into an enjoyable, soothing slumber.

“You’re pretty, hyung,” Jisung says, and your eyes snap up to look at him through the mirror in shock. You stare at him as if he had grown two heads, your mouth parted just a bit. “Why are you gaping at me like that? It’s true!”

“You can’t just say it so– so nonchalantly!” You sputter out, covering your rapidly warming cheeks with your hands, which makes Han chuckle.

“But you are pretty. Your lashes are long, and the way they lightly lay on your cheeks when your eyes are closed makes me feel all nice inside,” he starts his gaze not once leaving your face as he continues to look at you through the mirror. “don’t get me started on your lips– my god are they soft.”

You put your hand up to stop him from talking and flustering you any more than he already has. You’re relieved when he actually stops talking. “That’s enough, loverboy. Save it for when we’re alone and don’t have a group of people waiting on us.”

And with that, you and Han leave the room (at different times so as to not raise suspicion), and you both part ways for the first time since last night.

You’re sitting at the island in the kitchen, enjoying a pack of strawberries when one of the filming crew tells you to go outside and retrieve your mission. So, with a mouth full of strawberries, you go outside and pluck an envelope from the staff member’s hand. He tells you that whoever’s name is in the envelope, you have to replicate the baby picture and take a photo for proof. You think it should be easy, hopefully you don’t get one that’s intricate and difficult. You open the envelope and you take out the picture. You examine it and you realize that you picked Changbin. You let out a loud “awh, so cute!” and begin to laugh at the picture and you run off to find someone to show.

You find a very sleepy Chan slugging his way to the same staff member that explained the mission to you. You jog over to the oldest male and you hold the picture out to him. “Look, hyung! I picked Changbin!” You say, which earns you a chuckle in response. He then shows you the picture he picked.

“I picked Hyunjin, not sure how I’ll find a headband that looks similar to this one, though.” He says looking around his surroundings to find the right place to take the picture.

You hum with a nod, letting him know that you understood, “Yeah. I’m not sure how I’ll manage to find something similar to the ball in his hand..” you trail off, looking at the picture a bit harder. “Well, good luck, hyung!” You say and you make your way back inside to find an item that’s close enough to the ball in little Changbin’s arms.

When you walk inside, you see Hyunjin propped up on the couch, his legs all pretzeled up under his slim body– he looks mighty comfortable, you think to yourself as you spot a pack of balloons on the couch beside the long-haired male. You plop your body down on the opposite side of him, tearing open the pack of rubbery items.

“Who did you get?” Hyunjin asks, ripping you out of your balloon trance.

You continue to rummage around in the bag, trying to find one– just one, yellow balloon. “I got Changbin-hyung. What about you?” You ask in return, not looking up from your current task of yellow-balloon hunting.

“I got Minho-hyung. But I don’t even wanna do his picture! His post is all intricate and difficult!” Hyunjin whines, and he pushes the picture into your view. You examine the picture and you look at Hyunjin with a blank stare.

“Hyune, it’s really not that hard.” You say, and you finally find a yellow balloon. “Ah-ha! Found it!”

“But it is that hard, hyung! He’s all bent down and the angle has to be right!” Hyunjin continues to complain, and you have half a mind to just tune him out.

You begin to blow up the balloon, and in between breaths of air, you answer him, “I'll help you if you stop whining about it.”

And with that, Hyunjin’s whines were silenced.

After about twelve breaks for air, you tie the balloon at the end and take a look at your craft. You’re very proud, a little lightheaded, but still proud.

You and Hyunjin help each other with your pictures and you reveal them to the staff, who approve of both of you. You give each other a high five and make your way outside to see if anyone else needs any help.

Once all the missions were complete, it was time for breakfast. You all cooked a nice meal together, just as you did the day before. You all worked in tandem, not once getting jammed in the kitchen space. You danced around each other, getting shit done. You all sat down and ate breakfast, a multitude of moans and hums of how good the food tasted. You and Han sat next to each other, and his hand not once left your thigh under the table. You would get a shiver every time his slender fingers would draw little circles on your covered skin.

Those shivers did not go unnoticed by the remaining seven men at the table.

Once you all clean up the remains of breakfast, it was time for another game. This time it was soccer. You mentally groaned when the staff told you. You honestly don’t know if you’ll be able to participate this time around. Your left knee probably wouldn’t allow it, and you didn’t bring any tape for it.

Several years ago, you were in a car accident with your grandma, and your knee was completely shattered after being crushed under the weight of the crash. You had gone through multiple surgeries in the span of a year, just to get your bones back in order. Physical therapy was hell for you, endless nights of pain and suffering just wanting the pain to stop. You had to learn how to walk all over again, and even now you still have issues with it. One wrong step could end your idol life before it has the chance to even begin.

“Oi, YN-hyung! Wake up!” A voice calls out to you, a snapping noise accompanied by the voice.

You shake your head, blinking a few times. You look around you, eight pairs of eyes zeroed in on your frozen body. “Huh, what’s going on?” You ask, looking at them owlishly with a warm face.

“We’re gonna play soccer! Are you coming?” Jeongin asks, a bright smile on his face, his eyes disappearing behind his cheeks.

“Oh. Well, wouldn’t that make the teams uneven?” You ask, and everyone lets out an elongated ‘oh’. “Besides, I can’t move my knee like you guys can. I had a pretty nasty injury that really limits the movement of my left knee. Especially in this chilly weather.” You explained, lightly itching your cheek as you averted your eyes.

They all seemed to understand, because they hummed and nodded. All of you avert your attention to Felix, who snaps his fingers with a grin on his face. “Why don’t you play referee?”

A round of agreements goes around, and they all turn back to you to see your reaction.

You nod with a smile and you all rush outside to play some ball.

A few hours later and the game is over. You all had a great time, laughs and petty arguments keeping you all busy. You’re all left to do whatever you want, so you go to take a little nap on the couch. As you’re walking to the couch, you see Han spread out halfway on the couch, and he lets out this battle cry mixed with the screech of a dinosaur. You look at him sideways before you curl up on the arm of the couch. You happen to hear a small bit of the conversation between Han and Chan before you doze off.

“Han, come chat with me for a second.” Chan says, nodding his head towards an empty room away from any cameras and unwanted listening ears (a.k.a. Lee Minho and Kim Seungmin). Han quickly gets up and goes into the room, feeling like a little kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

The two sit on the bed, a light layer of awkwardness surrounding them. Chan speaks up first, “So, you and YN?” he asks, his arms crossed and his face very very serious.

Han gulps before replying, “Yeah. I think I really like him, hyung.” Han admits, looking down at his clasped hands. Chan just nods.

“I hope you know that if you plan on doing anything further with him, you’ll have to be extremely careful. I know our dating ban is lifted, but this is so much more than just dating,” Chan says, before he pauses, “this is dating a member, someone of the same sex. There could be a lot of backlash if the public finds out.”

Han lets out a deep breath he didn’t realize he was holding in, “I know. Shit, I don’t want to mess up our careers, we’re at the top right now, hyung.” Han says, wanting so desperately to bite his nails, one of his nervous habits.

“I’m just saying that you have to be really careful. You have my support, and I’m sure you have everyone else's, too.” Chan says, his hand coming up to pat Han’s back to try and comfort him a bit.

“We’ll be careful, I’ll be sure of it. I don’t mind hiding us from the public, as long as I’m his and only his.” Han says, finally looking at his oldest hyung, there’s wetness in his eyes, the idea of his career ending just because he fell in love with someone of the same gender, making his head hurt.

“Good, I’m rooting for you guys, just so you know,” Chan chuckles before wrapping his toned arms around Han.

A few hours later, you all are packed up, getting ready to head back to the dorms. The staff are putting all of your luggage away, and the nine of you are settling down on the bus. You and Han are seated next to each other, a blanket laid across your laps. Your hand is in his, your fingers intertwined as you share headphones connected to your phone.

You lay your head on his shoulder, your eyes closing as the bus begins to roll. You smile to yourself when you feel Han squeeze your hand. At first you had your doubts about joining Stray Kids, but now you think this could work out just fine.

#kpop x male reader #stray kids x male reader #kpop x reader #male reader #stray kids x reader #han jisung x male reader #han jisung #stray kids

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ladycrocy · 29 days ago

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Doffytober - Day 15 - Chains

Doflamingo X afabReader

Summary: You have defied your Master and he seeks to punish you accordingly. Since your master is Doflamingo, this is never a basic spanking. Instead, he forces you to push your body to its limits to keep yourself alive while he uses a bullwhip on your body. ((Please note that I cannot draw but I really REALLY wanted to contribute to my main man's month!))

Inspired to write this due to this post!

Content Warning: Master/Slave, Verbal Abuse, Impact play, life-threatening choking, Bondage, Chains

AO3

Word Count: 1005

You awoke in darkness.

Chained to a wall in only a button-up shirt that was unbuttoned and a pair of panties. The last thing you remembered was defying Master's request. Doflamingo had always stated that his punishment was severe, but you never took him seriously. Despite him being one of the most terrifying man you had ever met. Most even dubbing him the Heavenly Demon. Still, this never seemed to scare you enough to keep you away from him. You had easily gained his attention at one of the many festivals of Dressrosa. The power and challenge of him inticed you more than it should have.

The sound of his dress shoes echoed on the hard wood floors through the 'punishment room' until you heard

a click and then blinded by a single light in the middle of the room. Once your eyes were able to adjust, you saw your Master towering over you, silhouetted by the light behind him. His pink feathery coat only seemed to make him look that much bigger to someone small and vulnerable as you were right now. You were too scared to talk back this time. Doflamingo bent down and undid your chains, and with a massive hand, grabbed both of your wrists

roughly. With ease, the Warlord was able to lift you to your feet. His voice was domineering and deep as he gave you orders.

"Place your hands behind your back." Doflamingo's eyes seemed to pierce through his red tinted glasses into yours. Quickly, you did as you were told, and he bound them firmly with pink colored cuffs that were chained together. "You filthy cunt.. You forced my hand.. Now you will be punished. Do not worry, though. You will quickly learn how to be an obedient slave... or die trying.."

That last line sent chills down your spine. He led you to two stools that were two feet apart. Doflamingo gently assisted you to stand on top of them. Due to his height, he was able to reach your neck, where he placed a hook that clipped to the slave collar he had procured for you. Your heart began to pound as you realized exactly what was happening. Your legs were forced to spread a part on unbalanced stools with you forced to stand on the balls of your feet rather uncomfortably. If you were to lose balance, you would end up hanging yourself.

The chain was pulled tight at your neck. Doflamingo trailed his hand softly at your skin under the shirt before opening the shirt and revealing your perky breasts. His hands ran up your body, grazing the underside of your mounds and

crossing your hard nipples with his thumbs.

Your cheeks flushed, and you closed your eyes tight as you bit your lip. A smirk came to Doflamingo's lips as he stepped back from you, releasing his gentle caress. This caused you to open your eyes and watch the beast of a man you call Master.

The Warlord had stepped away with his back to you. He was grabbing something from the table. When he turned to you, you saw he was holding a pitch black leather bull whip. Your eyes instantly started to water as you began to plead. "M-Master no I... Please don't I promise.."

He held a finger to his lips and replied, "Shhhh... The more you plead, the harder I will swing. Now be a good girl and accept your punishment." Biting the whip in his teeth, with his predatory gaze, he removed his signature coat and rolled up his sleeves slowly. He snapped his wrist to the side, and the whip made a loud, terrifying crack. Your legs started to shake, causing the stools to wobble. The tug of the chain around your collar pulled at your neck, firm and uncomfortable.

Doflamingo swung back and let the whip fly. The first contact was at the side of your panties, which caused the material to give way to the impact and rip. His aim was perfect as the next three cracks caused the tattered fabric of your panties to fall from your body onto the floor. The next two hits crossed your nipples and you let out a loud scream. No matter the pain, your juices began to drip from your exposed womanhood. The juices pooled onto the floor next to the fallen fabric of the panties. Your screams pleased the Warlord, as his smile widened into a sadistic grin. His obscene tongue fell from his lips. "What a delicious looking mess you are creating, slave. I do love to see a needy cunt dripping for me and me alone~"

With every hit of the whip your legs shook and caused the stools to shake more. Then, the unthinkable happened. He reeled back and swung much harder. The whip made contact with your exposed womanhood. Your scream echoed throughout the palace. Your knees tried to buckle to instinctively close your legs to protect your most sensitive area. However, if you were to do that, the stools would fall, and you would hang yourself. So it took every ounce of control you could muster to force your legs to stay open and keep your pussy exposed.

Doflamingo smirked with a chuckle, watching your body squirm and shake. He swung again, directly hitting your overly sensitive clit. Your legs trembled, and the stools threatened to give way again. Your punishment went on like this for what seemed like hours. Even though it was more like minutes.

He paused to come over and placed his hand over your red and swollen area, roughly massaging the moist folds of your pussy. "You always were a masochistic little slut weren't you?~ I bet you are enjoying this... Beg me for more.~"

Your voice was shaky and you were gasping for air. Your body glistened with sweat, but you replied weakly, "P-Please Master... M-more... Punish my naughty pussy more...~"

Doflamingo chuckled and stood back. "Very well, Slut... I will stop going easy on you.~"

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#one piece #donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo #doffy #doflamingo x reader #one piece fanfiction #doffytober2024

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