#i can't even get the FIRST BADGE what the FUCK.

[madetrial]

peeking out of my depression hole to say that run & bun is breaking me in a way that radical red & emerald kaizo absolutely did not

#( pokebloggin. ) #i can't even get the FIRST BADGE what the FUCK. #it's wild that i'm in a position where i'm kicking myself for not catching a BUTTERFREE when i had the chance. #anyway if anyone beat brawly in run & bun pls let me know

[heartfullofleeches]

What would happen if fast food reader tried to quit?

"I quit!"

Fourty minutes in - that's a new record. You're in the middle of a transition with a customer when the newest in a line of new hires comes storming from the back, apron and badge on hand.

"In the single hour I've worked here I've been yelled at till my ears bled, pelted with plastic balls, saw my reflection drown itself in the toilets, and had my wallet and keys stolen."

"I'd say you had an okay start...." You pause for a moment, centered on the task at hand. ".....So will that be cash or card?"

Your coworker stares at you like you've grown antlers which probably wouldn't be the weirdest thing they've seen, but still up there in rankings.

"You're staying?!"

"I can't quit."

Pity flashes briefly in their eyes. "Being jobless is better than whatever this is, but I'm sure there's something else out there."

"You don't understand. I literally can't quit."

Your ex-coworker scoffs. "I know the job market is pretty rough these days, but come on..."

Sighing heavily, you carefully remove your apron- folding and setting at atop the counter along with your hat and badge. Glancing apologetically at the customer, you mutter.

"I quit."

Really, it only took the first syllable for what happened next, but it felt weird not to finish the sentence.

The entrace doors swing to a loud shut. Music playing over the speakers descends into static. Caution tape peals and tears from the walls as management's door pries it from position. Darkness oozes from the cracks as a body presses against the frame. A hand reaches out - pointing behind you.

"So!"

Your ex-coworker and the customer scream. You look over your shoulder at your manager's grinning face as they grip your shoulders.

"Please don't touch me."

Your manager laughs. "Oh, you and your silly jokes. So, I hear someone isn't having the best time. Your little friend is free to go, but you are a valued member of our team, Y/n. Anything we can do to make you stay?"

"No."

Your manager hands their head in sadness, immediately perking back up as they remove their touch from your shoulders. "I see..... Well! We'll all miss you dearly, but we respect your decision. Allow us to give you a portion of your severance in hand as thanks for your service."

"Please don't."

"Lambchop!"

The lights flicker as the freezer door slams into the adjacent wall. They continue to flicker with every heavy click of hooves on titled floors. The hulking figure ducks beneath menu signs, narrowly missing its curving horns getting stuck as it rises to full high. The reds of it beady eyes cast you in eerie glow as it stares - pupils shrunk as it turns. It seems to blink away tears as it snorts.

In a flash, the store mascot picks your ex-coworker by the throat and slams them to down on the counter. It reaches for its belt, sorting the sharpest cleaver of its artillery and sporting it against its prey's neck. Your coworker shrieks and flails, ceasing all movement as warm blood runs down their neck. As your eyes meet, you remain perfectly calm - brows raised in a sort of "I told you so look".

They pathetically beat at the goat demon's arm. "What the fuck.... what the fuck?!"

Your manager clicks their tongue. "I do apologize, but it's in their contract. Money is important, but we value something more here. As payment for self-termination from our team, Y/n here is to receive the beating hearts of everyone in the building in loo of breaking our own unless... they've changed their mind."

You shrug. "Long as you're still cool with my taking cash from the registers."

"Wonderful! Lambchop, could you please let the spoiled meat go? I'm afraid they won't be any good trying to posion our dear Y/n like that and I doubt they'll even make it out of the parking lot."

Your coworker scrambles for the door as soon as they're freed. Their blood, which you refuse to clean, paints the front door seconds later. Your manager sighs.

"Now that that's out of the way, please see to comforting Lambchop. You know how they get when you threaten to leave."

You look over at the mascot would bleats softly as they knock their head gently against the side of yours. You pet their horns as you throw your hat back on.

"Come on, Choppy. You can feed me fries in the breakroom."

Lambchop throws you over their shoulder and heads for the back as your manager takes their leave as well - leaving the customer alone in the main lobby.

"They... never gave back my card."

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere blurb #yandere insert #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #Fast food reader

[r0-boat]

Hiii, I just noticed your blog and really impressed by your... spicy stuff 👀 Hope that you can accept this request hehe 👉👈 (oh and sorry for any grammar, English is not my first language 🥹)

I absolutely love your headcanons about demons in WHB is animalistic, so what if the kings (and Lucifer) have that time of the month where they completely act like an animal (biting, marking,...) and MC didn't know about that, so MC got tricked by the nobles and being lead (?) to the room where their kings are destroying everything because they cannot find their human (maybe the kings got tied down too or just be sealed inside the room).

Okay I really wanna know what will happen after that 👀 Hope that it will be spicy 😋 Thank you and have a great day ❤️

Demon Rut headcannons

Whb Demon Lords x Gn!reader

Nsfw

Cw: everyone's a slut, The demons are yours and they want you. Slight mentions of demons fucking other demons just to let off steam, demon gangbang.

You know that little private room that looks like it's in a club on the summoning screen? I think that's where their sessions take place, where they're all dressed up in nice for you, only to rip off their clothes seconds later and make a beeline to your body.

That room in that special club for elites only are reserved for the seven lords and you to be used as they please.

I totally think demons have rut, they can fuck and cum whenever they want but during that time of the month when the sexual appetite is heightened to a point where they can't even think clearly. The sense of smell and taste. They will use toys, their subordinates anything! to get them off but it's not enough they need you. From your time you've been in hell and from maternity waiting for you, they've been holding off, and now that you're here... And they can sense you, smell your sweet scent of human and sex they can no longer hold back.

Bold of you to assume that the Lords would share. Some of them wouldn't mind but Satan and Levi who are notoriously more possessive??

Perhaps if they just need you so much that they are willing to share you just to have you at the moment. Without help with potions or magic, You will not survive Even with just the five of them at once. I don't even think you'll survive Mammon with just him during rut.

At first, they'd hate the idea of sharing you, but after the first time. They would kind of like seeing you squirm on another demon's cock. Seeing you get ruined and covered in demon seed would be a sight to purged in their minds, something they would jerk to when you're not here. Something that they'll definitely start doing more often. Not only as a way to prove their worth to you but for their own pleasurable benefit of seeing you soaked with tears, cum, and your own juices. As well as bragging rights to the other lords the next time they see them.

Expect clashing of horns and claws and teeth because only a test of their strength can determine who gets the fuck you first. And using you to test their virality and stamina will determine who gets to keep you for their rut. These demons will go for hours, days until they are tired, until they throw in the towel to the other. They use how many times you come how many orgasms they could milk out of your human body as a dick-measuring contest. Even after bragging about how many times you squeezed their cock while cumming as a badge of pride as their subordinates look at them in awe.

"oh yeah? Well fuck you Satan because last rut I made them cum this many times."

*cue Satan lunging at them with their teeth and claws*

That teasing and play fighting is all in good fun because they know they share a similar interest in being excited to see you next time in another demon's lap, squirming for their touch. Cooing about how much you like their cock and how human cock isn't good enough for you, huh? How they're so lucky to have someone so hungry for demon cock, have delicious your juices taste, how cute you cry for them.

Maybe they'll even start asking you to wear little pretty Lacey lingerie so they can tear off or play with their tongues and teeth. Maybe there's subordinates will catch wind of their lords escapades with you. An excitedly wait for one day their Lord will ask them to come with them. They know that the Lord is in control, and they are just there to be your toy.

And after every rut session, you're treated like a literal princess with aftercare; why do you have to lift a finger. They know that they pushed you beyond your human limits. And they are eternally grateful You indulged their sinful desires and gave up their body to be used and destroyed.

This sex dungeon-like club also doubling as a little hotel room with a full bathroom with a huge pool of bathtub as well as another bedroom with a giant bed for sleeping or other sexual escapades if the Lord's desire. If they ever want alcohol, sex toys, or condoms, they will be brought to them in a care package like basket. And as well as to their dislike, a little locker for the human for other demons store their presents in. It's like you don't already have a permanent residence in hell with a mailbox chocked full of flowers and chocolates and anything you desire.

#smut #whb #what in hell is bad #what in 'hell' is bad #whb x reader #whb satan #whb imagines #whb mammon #whb lucifer #whb leviathan #wihib #pretty busy what in hell is bad #whb x mc #whb headcanons #smut otome

[delphi-shield]

on the exhale // leon s. kennedy

Leon x Reader Fluff wc: ~2.5k shoutout to dana for wedging this idea into my brain, i also need leon to praise me for doing the bare minimum.

summary: After your home gets broken into, Leon insists on teaching you how to shoot.

content: mentions of a break-in, extensive discussion and use of firearms, leon being a big nerd (i can't NOT fuck him energy), established relationship, gender neutral reader.

You gave him a scare. Came back home from grocery shopping to find your door busted in and called him, all blubbery and panicked. You were lucky that you hadn’t been home when it happened. Crying to your boyfriend for help made you feel silly now, but at the time it had been the only thing that had made sense. It should have been cops first, Leon second, and he would tell you as much later.

“I’m gonna come home,” he’d told you. That only made you cry harder. Through your tears, he managed to make out the reason - you didn’t want him to get in trouble at work.

Bullshit, he’d thought. After all he gave to this place, they could stand to let him cut out early for an emergency. Thank God - that useless bastard - he wasn’t on deployment when all of this had happened. He rattled off instructions for you. Don’t go in the house, call the cops, wait for him to show up.

Leon doesn’t get frazzled often, but you saw the urgency in how he moved then, hopping out of his car before he even cut the engine. He hadn't thought to tell the cops he was your boyfriend, just flashed his badge at the officer who tried to stop him, teeth bared when he told the officer to move. He doesn't usually swing around the weight of his position like that, tries to leave who he is during his working hours at the door and shoulder who he wants to be when he's with you instead - but damn, if it wasn't effective.

He'd slid his arm around your waist, pressed a kiss to your hair and said, "You okay, baby?" and it was probably only then that the officer pieced together that Leon wasn't here on official business.

You were starting to think this whole thing scared him more than it scared you. It was damn near an argument. He made it clear that he wanted you comfortable enough to know how to shoot if it came down to that. He seems convinced, privately, that it would come down to that eventually. Like an attack is inevitable. You had laughed at the idea. After all, who would target you?

Leon doesn't want to give you the long, long list of answers to that, but his silence says enough.

That was that. He was teaching you how to shoot. No more avoiding it. If it buys him some peace, you’ll fire off a few rounds. Maybe it will even be fun. After all, Leon had almost seemed excited when he insisted he teach you. It's an excuse for him to take you out in his Jeep and drive around the countryside if nothing else.

“Are you sure I'm allowed to be here?” You ask, poking your head out the window of his Jeep.

Leon doesn't even turn around. “I’m sure.”

 A man shouldn’t look so good hunched over a rusty padlock, ugly boot propped up on the bottom bar. He swings the gate open, spinning the padlock on his index finger. Wrangler’s shouldn’t be that appealing, either, like they’re molded to him. Maybe it’s just the way he walks. The confident sway of his hips could make anything look good.

He swings himself back into the driver’s seat, pulls through the gate, and asks you to shut it behind you. You take the padlock from him. It’s hard to imagine you have the same confident stride Leon had. You feel like you’re shuffling your feet in the dirt, like the gate is so much heavier and your fingers so much clumsier. Leon’s eyes are on you the whole way, even when you clamber back into the passenger seat. Not that you notice.

The range is little more than a grassy field ringed with shooting bays. You don’t know what you had expected - maybe something a little more clinical. A quick look around fills you with relief. It looks like you’re the only ones here right now. 

Leon pulls up in front of one of the pistol bays, already explaining range etiquette to you. You help him unload, picking up a bag that you nearly drop with a muffled whoa.

“What the hell did you pack?”

“Ammo.” 

Jesus. Was he planning on forming a militia?

You don’t know why you’re surprised. Leon doesn’t do anything casually. You haul the ammo over to the closest table, hefting it up and thunking it down. Your hands settle onto your hips.

The bay is roughly 50 feet deep, the berms healed over with grass. The flat of the bay is tracked with dirt paths, clearly worn over time. A line hangs at the far end, where Leon clips two targets. He trods his own path back and unpacks his assortment of handguns on the picnic table. At his direction, you unload cartons of ammunition, organizing them by their different packaging. 9mm. .45.

The handguns look, for the most part, the same. Some are slick, carbon black, others dull, burnished metal. Your eyes are drawn to a boxy handgun, all sharp angles, the grip pebbled.

“You look nervous,” Leon notes. He straddles a bench, gesturing for you to join him.

“I am.”

Leon laughs. He nudges a magazine towards you, picking up one himself. “Don’t be. I’ll show you. Here - watch me.”

He thumbs rounds into the magazine. He makes it look easy, like he's loading a pez dispenser. You try to do the same and your thumbs come away sore and raw.

“It comes with practice.” He shrugs. He already has another two magazines loaded by the time you’ve finished your first. You hope he’s right, but you have a feeling your hands are going to ache after this.

He pulls one more gun from its case. It's worn, clearly seen plenty of use. The polymer is dulled and scuffed compared to some of the other weapons that he's laid out for you. It looks like someone took a file to the barrel and sanded it at an angle. He handles it with care, looks it over twice before he sets it away from the other pistols.

“What’s that?”

“This?” He says, laying out a stock next to it. That makes you arch a brow as well - a stock for a handgun. “She’s more of a novelty, honestly.”

“She?” You grin.

Leon rolls his eyes. He really should have known you’d tease him for that one. He flips the gun over and draws his finger across the engraving at the bottom of the grip. ‘Matilda’.

Before you can make some smart-ass comment, he clarifies. “She’s a novelty. My first gun. Can’t get rid of her, even though I probably should.”

“Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“Quicker to tell you what’s not wrong,” he says, loading the magazine fondly. “The trigger is heavy as hell. There’s no rear sight. This is a military model, so if I attach the stock it fires in a three-round burst, but the way the barrel is cut slows down the way it cycles, so you lose a lot of -”

Yeah, he’s lost you. He looks so passionate when he speaks, though, you can't help but stare. You cushion your cheek on your fist just to watch him for a moment. You can't remember the last time you saw his eyes light up like this. You ask questions just so he'll keep talking – “Double action - what does that mean?”

And he's off talking again, showing you the difference on two different pistols.

He catches on to your game after the third question, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He sets Matilda aside, warning you off of trying her for now. His hand nestles home in the small of your back, urging you closer.

“Try this one first,” Leon says. It's smaller than the others, glimmers with a sheen that seems to have worn off the rest. You miss the full name - the something-or-other Shield. He runs you through the gun, shows you the safety and hands you the magazine.

It’s the basics he’s been telling you since before you even got to the range - finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot. Only point the gun at something if you intend to shoot it. He shows you proper stance, flexes his knees to emphasize his stance, and you can’t help the little laugh that slips out of you. His brow furrows.

“C’mon, this is serious.” Your laughter dies quick. You quiet, start taking it a little more seriously, chase the hearts from your eyes for the moment.

It feels like you should be taking notes with the amount of information he’s telling you. You nod along, trying to mimic his stance as best you can. Finally, Leon presses the gun to your palm, his hands covering yours to adjust your grip. His touch lingers, fingers sliding along your wrist as he steps away.

“Remember,” he says, loud enough for you to hear over your hearing protection. “Squeeze.”

Squeeze. Okay. You can do that. Just squeeze. You try, curling your index finger. You tense in anticipation of the shot.

The gun snaps in your hand. The grip sears into the soft skin of your palm. The ejected shell casing sizzles past your ear. You swallow the lump in your throat. You’d squeezed the trigger just how Leon had told you to, and you’d still jumped, pulling your shot up and away from where you had been aiming.

You look over to him, about to say you’re doing this wrong, you’ve got to be messing something up - you can’t even tell if you hit the target. Leon’s giving you a thumbs up and a dorky smile when you look over, though, and any thought of backing out splinters into a laugh. His voice is muffled by your earmuffs, but you think you hear him say ‘keep going’.

The rest of the magazine goes by quicker. You never quite get used to the bark of the gun, but you manage to hit the target more than once, letting out a surprised oh! each time. The slide kicks back and you barely notice - you try to fire again and it only clicks limply.

"Not bad," Leon says. You snort, but you’re smiling despite it, removing your earmuffs. Your shots are all over the place. He stares down range, hip cocked against the bench, arms folded across his chest. “You're pulling up and to the right - see?" He says, pacing down the range, gesturing for you to follow him. You trod over spent casings, catching up quick. He points to the groupings, circling them for you as if you were having trouble seeing the holes you had put all over the place.

He walks you back, talking you through pointers while you try to cram that information in along with everything else. You slide another magazine into place and try to get back into position. Your feet shuffle uncertainly on the concrete slab. Something about this is so embarrassing, being so wet behind the ears at something he’s so passionate about - you can hardly swallow around the lump in your throat.

“Hang on.” Leon’s voice cuts through your nerves. You move to lower the gun, but he stops you with a feather-light touch at your elbows.

He moves you into position, his leg wedging between yours, kicking your feet where he wants them. His touch is a suggestion, guiding you into proper form with the faintest press.

“There you go,” he rumbles. He’s pressed so close you can feel it vibrate down your back. His hands slide down your sides, fingers curling into your hips.“Nice and slow. Take your time. When you’re ready - exhale and squeeze.”

How the fuck are you supposed to breath deep and slow, concentrate on firing on the exhale, when his hands are gripping your hips like that? His breath puffs hot against the back of your neck. His voice drifts to you through your earmuffs, cloudy and dreamlike.

“Nice and slow. Squeeze.”

His hands press your hips, kneading - and then he steps back. You take a moment, let your breathing even, find your rhythm. In and out - on the exhale. You squeeze the trigger again, just like he showed you. The gun jumps, but you’re ready for it this time, the shock absorbed in the roll of your shoulders.

Center mass. On target, roughly where you had been aiming. You lean back into Leon’s chest, grinning.

“Good job,” he says. His hands slide up your arms, squeezing your shoulders. “Much better. I’m proud of you.”

A little thrill rattles up your chest. You’re going to have to unpack all of that later.

“Can I see you do it?” You ask, stepping away from the bay. You drop the magazine just like he showed you earlier. All right- maybe not just like he showed you. You fumble with it, just a little, and he does have to remind you to fish out the chambered round.

“I wasn’t going to let you have all the fun.” He says, subduing a grin. He gestures for you to put your earmuffs back on and takes Matilda in hand.

It’s a night and day difference from the way you had shot. He’s quick and precise, comfortable even with the gun he had spent minutes telling you was ungainly. A tight cluster of shots in the chest of the target, two rounds in the head - just to show off, you’re sure. It’s a blink and you miss it exhibition.

And yet, Leon clicks his tongue. “I’m pulling left. See?”

“Mm…” you pop your head to the side, pretending you see what he does. You step up to him, chest pressed against his back and hands at his hips, tormenting him the way he had just done to you. “Maybe if you just…”

Your hands slide to his front, coasting up his chest. He huffs a laugh and it presses his pecs into your hands.

“I don’t think you’re taking this seriously,” he says, laughter wobbling his voice.

“I’m taking it just as seriously as you are.”

There’s no arguing with that. He sets Matilda aside and turns to face you. “People pay good money for lessons like these.”

“Yeah? You’re a really hands-on instructor.”

He doesn’t bother hiding his laugh this time. “C’mon. Let's shoot through a couple boxes, get you comfortable. I’ll take you to lunch when we’re done.”

“I thought you packed lunch.”

“Yeah, well. I wanna treat you.”

“You spoil me.”

“I know,” he says, affecting an exasperated sigh. He disentangles himself from you, quickly loading the magazine for your pistol and sliding it over to you. He nods towards the gun you had fired earlier. “That’s why I bought that for you.”

That little shit. You should have known he’d pull something like this.

You open your mouth to argue, but Leon seats a magazine into Matilda and turns to face the target again. “Going down. Earmuffs on.”

Bastard won’t even let you argue about it.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagine #resident evil x reader #resident evil fluff #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil #leon kennedy #x reader

[star-anise]

This is what the fight is like

Sooo, apparently the extremely tenuous and recent nature of the LGBTQ+ community's legal right to exist was not actually super widely known to a lot of people on Tumblr?

Which clarifies some stuff in retrospect. I have so often wanted to grab people by their lapels and shout, "Stop picking on someone for not meeting your entry requirements! We need everyone we can get, you asshole! DON'T YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THEY HATE US OUT THERE?"

Aaaapparently... no, they did not know. Or they knew and were a conservative psyop preparing the ground for our loss of legal rights. Fun times!

So: Look, it is bad. Shit is scary. They really do hate us out there. You're not wrong.

But: This is what we've always fought. This boat we're in with its antique fittings and strange markings on the floor is a battleship. Work has always been going on in the basements, and when shit gets tough, we clear away clutter and roll out the cannons.

I found this chart a couple weeks ago and hung onto it because it felt like the map to my first 25 years on this earth:

[Image description: A graph titled "Same Sex Marriage: Public Polls since 1988." It is from FiveThirtyEight's NYT column. It records the percentage of US Americans polled who would say yes or no to legalizing same-sex marriage, from 1988 to 2011.

The two lines begin with roughly 10% saying yes in 1988, and 70% saying no; the two lines gradually draw closer over the years, until by 2011, the percent saying finally dips under 50%, and the group saying yes makes a tentative reach for the majority. End of image description.]

After some great social change has happened, when everyone has admitted that gay marriage is very cute and Pride is a colourful parade, hooray, people like to pretend that it was just natural and inevitable and happened on its own. People just became less prejudiced! Courts just decided on a case! Governments just passed a law!

In reality, it was a vicious fucking fight, every fucking time. Every fucking where. There are a lot of people who deeply, sincerely believe that a hundred years ago, society had good rules about sex and gender and intercourse and marriage, and that changing those rules has made the world worse. They don't always agree on the specifics, but they can work together far enough to fight anyone with new ideas.

This is why we are a community. Even when we don't have the same experiences of attraction or identity, even when we don't do the same things, even when we have wildly different ideas of a good time. Because when these groups take aim, we're all under fire, and none of us is responsible for why they hate us.

In some ways I think it's a miracle that there seems to be a generation that did not grow up, as I grew up, constantly glued to news reports about What Percentage of Society Hates Us this month. I can't imagine who I'd be if my brain and heart and soul hadn't been tied up, that whole time, in the political question of whether I'd get to dream of a decent future.

I think that it will give us strength to have people who can imagine a world where no one hates us. Who believe in it so strongly they can taste it. That's my prediction: If you didn't know this was coming, you'll be a boon to us, because we have always needed joy so fiercely, in this fight, to keep us going on. We have needed drag queens and punk bands and "her wife" and safe space stickers. Parade floats and wedding days and little dogs with rainbow collars, badges and banners and meetups, because more than anything else we need to fight our own despair, and our fear that the world will never get any better than this.

It will. We know it will. We can taste it.

Look up to the history, organizations, and people who've got us this far for information on what forms of activism will actually advance our political goals. Look to the side to make sure the comrades within reach are keeping their heads above water, and that you're keeping enough joy going to stay alive. Look back to see who's more vulnerable than you are that you might have forgotten or been tempted to leave behind. Look after each other. Look after yourself.

We can do this.

To your battle stations.

#lgbt discourse #staranise original

[peachesofteal]

How would Soap react if he saw that Cypher was being harassed or stalked by some other individual on base? This individual is completely unaware of Soap's fascination with and control over Cypher. Maybe she is being preyed upon by some stereotypically young and horny meathead and his buddies or an older officer who has never served in a combat role. What would Soap do to that person? What would he say to Cypher about it, if anything?

18+ mdni / dark and twisty themes / no smut, Johnny beats the shit out of someone / soap x cypher masterlist

Early morning is one of Johnny's favorite times. He enjoys the quiet pace, the peace before chaos, the relaxed, subtle silence that slowly gets washed away as people start their days.

He particularly enjoys you in the early mornings, watching you make your way across base before any of your counterparts, settling into your work without turning on most of the lights, tweaking the nuances of your new routine. Cup of coffee, speciality keyboard, water bottle, your favorite jacket. Every morning, he marvels at how stunning you are, how perfect, beautiful in every way, down to each individual strand of your hair. He watches how you tackle the things thrown your way head on, sinking into your expertise that surpasses, he suspects, every one else in the room, sees how you treat everyone kindly, how you work so passionately and diligently. It makes his heart glow in his chest, love and obsession and possession burning in his blood, always pushing him closer to get a better look, encouraging him to linger where he can't be seen.

But this morning, something is different. You're late, far later than normal, and you seem... off. There's something off balance in your steps, something in your face that unsettles him, worries him. You power up your work station, arranging your belongings as you like, but instead of appearing happy, healthy like you normally do when you're about to settle into your day.... you look distressed.

He badges into the building without another thought. Anxiety is churning through him now, mixing with fear until his steps are more than hurried, and people are throwing him bewildered looks as he barrels down the hallway. Whatever it is, he'll fix it. He'll make it okay. He'll take care of you.

He stops short just inside the room where you work. Some people look his way curiously, but when he returns their probing eyes, they flinch away in a panic, burying their noses back in their computers, pretending he's not there. Good.

He's about to start towards your console when someone else does the same, a private that doesn't even work in this building, his eyes narrowed and hungry on where your elegant fingers fly across a keyboard. What the fuck?

You don't notice the private at first, which irks him, makes him even more worried, your lack of situational awareness scratching at him beneath his skull. It's a danger to be here in the first place, so close to an engagement zone, and the fact that you're less than aware does not make him feel good.

When you do, finally, look up and spot the oversized low rank that's heading your way, you stiffen, fingers slowing to a stop, throat bobbing with a swallow. He says your name, informal as all get out, and you shift in your seat, fingers coming together, one of your many tells. You're uncomfortable, he realizes. This bloke has been making you uncomfortable. He's chatting you up, or trying to, brushing his hand against your arm, the motion making Johnny see red, and the way his face twists, like he's in on some sick joke, tells Johnny all he needs to know. Slimy git.

"Private. What's yer business on this floor?" Johnny barks, louder than necessary coming to stand beside your chair, across from where the private lurks, chatter around the room dying out as you stare up at him, wide eyed and... relieved.

"Sergeant MacTavish, I wasn't aware the 141-"

"I didnae ask ye what ye're aware of, private. I asked ye what business ye have here." He repeats, inflection flat, and the private gulps, stammering out some bullshit excuse until Johnny is excusing him, encouraging him to make himself scarce.

Once he's gone, you release a long breath, shoulders slumping. He wants to take you in his arms, and hold you. Wants to comfort you, tell you he'd never let anything happen to you, that you'll always be safe, as long as he lives.

But he can't. He knows what a brazen display of affection would do to you, in this setting. How it would harm, instead of help. So, instead-

"Are ye alright, wee sweet?" He keeps his voice low, and your eyes slip closed.

"Yes. Thank you... Sergeant." You whisper.

"Do ye need a break?" He'll take you back to your room, if you do. Or his. Make up some excuse for Price and get you out of work for the day, in a blink. You shake your head.

"No, sir." He nods, squeezing your shoulder with slow, gentle touch, before giving you a long look, and taking his leave.

The pub that everyone frequents off base is a dingy thing. It's dark, and dirty, just the way Johnny likes it. Simon can smoke inside here, right at the bar, and he's just putting his first cigarette out when Johnny's target stumbles, half drunk from the toilets.

"That him?" His LT grunts, and Johnny nods, swallowing the rest of his beer in one go. Simon slaps a folded bill down next to the ashtray. "See you in five."

It's not hard, to get the private outside. He's more drunk than Johnny originally thought, and ushering him towards the back door is as simple as telling him he wants to have a chat, keeping his tone light and easy.

The private doesn't realize the danger he's in until he gets to the alley, and sees Ghost stepping out from the dark.

"Wh-what is this?"

"This-" Johnny hums, removing his jacket as Ghost grabs the private by the back of the neck, turning him. "is a lesson for ye."

"A lesson?"

"The civilian specialist. Cypher." Ghost tells him, removing his hand, letting him shift fully to face Johnny, stricken.

"She doesnae like ye. She doesnae want ye, and she never will. Dinnae ever, ever, touch my girl again." He pushes him, just a little, as a pre cursor, a warning for what's next. The private's eyes are wide, and scared, and Johnny smirks. "If I ever see you-" He swings, landing his fist across his jaw, hard enough that he knows the private is seeing stars, and Ghost steadies him for the next. "looking at her again-" he swings, again. There's a satisfying crack this time, the private's nose, blood spurting from the wound like a fountain, and the injured man howls, loud enough that Ghost is clamping a hand over his mouth to shut him up. "or talking to her-" he lands two more punches to his face, a jawbone hit, and eye socket. Nothing breaks, which is ideal, but he puts enough force behind them that he knows the eye will swell shut, for days. "even breathing near her-" His last punch is the knockout. It sends the private stumbling backwards, and Ghost slides out of the way, letting him fall, his body sprawling across the pavement like he's fallen from the roof. "I'll fucking kill ye. I'll kill ye, and bury ye in a nameless pit. Do ye understand?" He spits, and the private tries to say yes, but it comes out as a cry.

"Nod your head." Ghost instructs, and he does, miserably. "You tell anyone about this, I'll do worse than what Sergeant MacTavish is promising. We were never here. Copy?"

"Yes sir." The private blubbers, and Johnny shakes out some of the tension between his shoulders. Much better.

You're still awake. He's on edge, and was hoping to have a few hours in your room, watching you sleep, listening to the rise and fall of your chest, soothing himself with your presence, but instead, you're still awake, and he's at a loss before he accepts he can't fight it, and knocks on your door.

"Sergeant?" You're surprised to see him, caught off guard, and he's driven to soothe you, stepping forward inside your room, clicking the lock behind him.

"That private won't be bothering ye anymore." He tells you lowly, and your eyes go wide.

"I- What? Sir?" He pulls you into his body easily, your nose in his neck, his cheek pressed to the top of your head. He can feel the tension slowly leaking from you, his hand working broad strokes up and down your back, murmuring to you about he'll always keep ye safe, how he'll always take care of ye, and upon pulling away, he's incredibly pleased to see that you seem happy... even relieved. "Thank you, sir." You whisper, and he rubs a thumb across your cheek.

"I want ye to call me Johnny, Cy. Instead of Sergeant." Not instead of sir, but he doesn't think he needs to tell you that. He presses a kiss to your forehead. "It's late, ye should be in bed."

"I couldn't sleep." You confess, and he nods.

"I know. C'mon. I'll help ye."

#soap x reader #soap x cypher #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish #peaches writes

[vavaxx]

Safety first

Nikolai x reader (+ Fyodor)

[ !! : nsfw, afab reader, DUBIOUS CONSENT, groping, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, degrading, hair pulling, choking kink, praising, voyeurism, some kind of aftercare ] wc: 1.4k

beware of the tags!! this could be DISTURBING for some readers, consent is stated mid act!

(basically cop Nikolai fucks you on a car and you agree to it halfway trough)

﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉

A soft breeze brushed over your exposed legs as you were returning home from your shift late at night.

Walking in the dark streets of the city was always a little worrying, never knowing what or who you could bump into, but seeing some policemen around was reassuring. They were there for people's safety, right?

Turning into a darker alleyway, you noticed a young white-haired cop leaning against his car, looking gently at you.

As you approached him, he immediately got closer to you, towering your figure with his tall body.

"Having a good night, miss? May I help you?" he said in a soft tone, looking at you directly in the eyes.

"Good evening sir" you said turning your head to the side, avoiding eye contact no, I don't need anything, thanks".

Suddenly his gloved hand came up to grab your chin and he made you turn to look at him.

"Are you sure, pretty? It's my job to help a young lady in need. I can take you home safely, you know the city is dangerous at this time..."

Your face showed your doubts. Trusting a random man, even if he called himself a cop, was still risky, but his appearance was inviting to say the least. He seemed to be around his late 20s, with snowy hair, beautiful eyes and a charming smile, to say the least.

"No need to worry angel, look! I am a policeman" he said, removing his hand from your face and pointing at a badge where you could read the name 'Nikolai'. "If you don't believe me, call the station, they'll confirm it!"

Too tired to investigate, you agreed to Nikolai's nice invitation, and with an imperceptible smirk on his face, he let you sit in the backseat. He then started driving to the address you gave him.

But as you were letting yourself relax, you saw a big hand appear from a hole in space and brush over your chest, in the tentative of unbuttoning your shirt. Gasping in surprise, you quickly tried to move away.

Panic started running through your body as he successfully opened your shirt and found its way under your bra. Ignoring your "No"s and pleas, he started toying with one of your nipples. The feeling of his fingers pinching your sensitive spot sent shivers all around your body, and the idea of how things could've continued further made your panties get wet. Why was your body reacting this way?!

"Can't you stay still back there? Driving is difficult with such chaos in the car, y'know." and as you looked at him, you could see his arm disappear under a black cloak on the passenger seat.

You didn't answer, too occupied in getting away from his hand when it disappeared to immediately materialized onto your thighs, gripping the soft flesh and smacking his palm here and there.

"Mh just stop, please" was all that could escape from your mouth before his hand lifted your skirt and pushed your damp panties aside.

"Ohh, and why would I listen to you begging when your wet cunt is telling me otherwise?" with that he pushed his finger further, with his thumb playing with your sensitive clit and the rest spreading your folds. You couldn't keep your mouth shut, at least not when his big hand was pleasuring you that much.

"I can't believe I brought in this car such filthy whore like you" he laughed at your moans, and, still panicking, you looked out the window only to see dark fields and not a soul within miles.

Looking down at your crotch, you felt two fingers enter your hole and get out full of slick, then he started pumping them in and out. The stretch felt so good and painful at the same time, and the biggest relief was the constant stimulation of your puffy bud.

"I see you can't wait any longer, can you?" he said smiling, turning the steering wheel around and stopping on the side of an empty road, where the only light source was a nearby street lamp.

Suddenly his hand between your thighs disappeared through his portal. Being your brain already dizzy, you couldn't follow his fast motions, and you soon found yourself out, bent with your stomach on the car hood with two big hands holding your waist.

He clicked his tongue, taking a view of your exposed ass and thighs touching against his bulge. You tried in vain to get up, to somehow escape his grip, scared of how things could've gone further, but his grip was too firm and you fell back down with your cheek on the cold metal.

"Don't try too hard pretty, I don't want you to tire yourself too much," he paused, removing some hair that covered your face. "Well, at least not this early."

"Now that we're here, do I have your consent to proceed, miss?"

The first thought you had was, why would he ask this now? How could he care now, when in that backseat it could still be seen the wet spot you left?

"I-, uh yes but m-" your words were immediately interrupted.

"Wonderful! I promise you'll enjoy my show as much as I will." One of his hands travelled down your back, sliding over your pulled-up skirt and teasing your entrance.

Then you heard him pull his trousers down to his knees and turned your head to take a look at him. Under his boxers there was a big bulge, which made you widen your eyes for a moment. "Like what you see?"

And getting rid of his underwear he revealed a 7 or so inches cock, already hard from your sounds and feeling only.

"What a whore, mouth watering over a stranger's dick, who's about to fuck you on a car hood." He leaned over you, getting closer to your ear to whisper "get as loud as you want darling, it's not like we're gonna getcaught."

That's what sent shivers through your body, more than the cold metal that pressed against your stomach. The thought of getting used, alone, lost in the dark by a stranger (a really attractive one), was a weird turn on surprisingly.

What brought you back from your thoughts was a deep thrust of his cock into your hole, pushing your body even harder on that coldness. His girth stretched you out so well that you could feel his tip slide against your warm walls.

"Mhpf" and other blabbering escaped your mouth when he started setting a merciless pace into your pussy, letting his balls hit your folds every time.

"God, how I love lost girls like you, ngh! Pretty girls so willing..." A sharp thrust made you whine loudly and your eyes closed shut. "...to get helped!"

His tip reached your sweet spot everytime, leaving you fucked out and pleasuring perfectly.

Big hands wrapped around your bust and neck, squeezing slightly on the side of it like you weren't already dizzy enough from his treatment. Soon the other hand slid down to your clit, brushing over it to feel your pussy clench and let out other slick, which was already mixing to the policeman's precum.

As you sightly opened your eyes, you saw two lights on the street get closer, and you realised in horrendous shock it was a car.

"Oh look! Ahh, we have a visitor!" Nikolai said, grabbing you by the hair and forcing your head up.

The car slowed down as it passed in front of you, a man with shoulder-length black hair and dark eyes gave a perverted smirk at the two of you, taking a mental image of your situation.

You made eye contact with him with half-lidded eyes and mouth hung open in pleasure, probably trying to whimper out something like 'get away' or 'please', but the way Nikolai was still pushing himself deep into you made it impossible.

The car eventually proceeded its way and you were left again with the policeman.

Hm, is my pretty slut on the pill?" and as you dizzily nodded, gripping your waist with both of his hands, he came in you, deep and filling you up to the brim with his cum.

You lied tired and dirty on the car hood, and after some minutes he grabbed you with his strong arms and let you rest inside the car.

You woke up in your apartment, lying on your bed with a clean pair of underwear, but still sticky inside, your brain still too foggy to understand how all of that could've happened.

#bsd smut #nikolai gogol #nikolai smut #nikolai gogol smut #bsd x reader #bsd #bungo stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #nikolai bsd #bsd nikolai #decay of angels #smut #smut x reader

[artificial-transmutations]

Anger Issues

When Owen first came to this new city, in this new and foreign country, he was full of hope. A fresh start in an unfamiliar land. It was an adventure! The world was his oyster, and the possibilities were endless! He had just finished university and had a degree in art history, which should make it easy for him to find work.

As it turns out, that was a lie.

For three long, grueling months, Owen tried everything to make a living in the big city. The truth was that his degree often wasn't recognized, and even when it was, he wasn't considered qualified to do the job, often without any obvious reason. The financial reserves he had were draining quickly and his hopes of finding good and fulfilling work in the new city were getting smaller and smaller every day.

"You need experience to get a job, and you can't get a job without experience". Owen never realized how true this saying was until he had stumbled into that very situation. Desperate to get out of it, he finally found an unpaid internship in a museum for ancient art. It was a really interesting field for Owen, but it turned out his tasks were mundane and not related to the exhibits at all. Instead, he was confined to a small office room to scan and sort invoices - a tedious job and hardly what Owen had studied for.

So, one day, in his break, when he went through the exhibition as usual, a wooden figure caught his eye that was apparently brought here this morning. It depicted the torso of a man, showing a sculpted chest. The figure was cut off below the upper arms and above the legs. The face of the man was symmetrical and angelic, although frowning. Above the hair, it showed either a thick halo or some kind of hat.

Owen was inexplicably drawn towards the figure. It was well-preserved and Owen couldn't quite assign it a region or time period. Looking at the sign, Owen realized it had no information about this either. Clearly a curiosity!

Driven by his own desire for knowledge, Owen stepped closer, hoping to get a more detailed look. It was as if a faint whisper was coming from the grim statue, but that must have been his imagination. He reached out with his hand to touch the wooden surface, only to hesitate again. It was, of course, forbidden to touch the exhibits, but perhaps feeling the structure of the wood would help him understand the piece more.

As soon as he touched the surface, the whispers grew louder all of a sudden, and his fingers felt a slight jolt - but both sensations stopped immediately again.

Someone behind him was clearing his throat.

"Ahem. Owen. Do I need to remind you not to touch the exhibit?", Mr. Hastings, the director of the museum, said, looking sternly at Owen.

"Oh, no, Sir, I just thought... it might give me some better understanding..."

"Rules are rules." Mr. Hastings said, but he was smiling again.

Owen however felt a most unusual feeling bubbling up in him. At first, he didn't quite know where to put it, but it soon became very clear to him. He was angry! The rational part of his mind tried to understand why - there was no real reason. Mr. Hastings was right of course and judging by his smile, Owen really didn't have a problem. Regardless, he felt as if he had just been insulted the worst possible way. Before he could stop himself, he burst out:

"Do you know where you can put your precious rules? Fuck them! Fuck you! Fuck this whole place! You don't want me to do real work here?! Fine! I quit!"

Head steaming, Owen removed his museum badge from his jacket and threw it to the ground with such force that the plastic shattered. With another loud "Fuck you!", he ran off, leaving the befuddled Mr. Hastings behind, as well as the museum.

Only after he had walked a few blocks, Owens anger subsided somewhat. What has he been thinking? He should turn around and apologize at once!

Then again, it was an unpaid internship. Even though the way to quit this job hasn't been too professional, what was done was done - and perhaps for the better, too. He could focus on finding a better job now. There surely had to be something.

There wasn't. Owen had no better luck then before, but inexplicably, his tolerance for frustration had diminished. After the third denied application, Owen had become so angry that he actually punched a hole into the thin walls of his apartment. Alongside the anger, there had been some changes to Owen's body, as well: He seemed overall fitter and filled out his clothes better. He also found his libido increased somewhat. Where before he had jerked off perhaps once a week, he found himself hard now more and more often, and his hand was drawn to his cock even more.

Jerking off helped to cool the red hot anger somewhat that he found himself quite often in, so it was quickly becoming a daily thing. However, being constantly torn between being angry and being horny didn't leave much space for patience. His money was running dry, too, so, Owen finally accepted a job in a field that was far below his academic standards: He started a job as a fast-food cashier.

The red "FST" uniform, as the fast food chain was called, was tight on Owen's chest, when he started his first work day. They had probably given him a smaller size, even though they said it was XL. Owen was already feeling angry about that obvious mistake, but he swallowed his anger and let himself be introduced to the cash register.

The system was overwhelmingly complex. It had like a hundred different buttons, and Owen quickly felt his head swimming. It shouldn't be so hard to understand a fast food cash register, but apparently, this one was extra complex. Just his luck!

At some point, he just nodded as the manager showed him the functions of the device. The introduction wasn't very long, only ten minutes, but Owen didn't understand a thing. You really needed a degree for that monstrosity! Still, he was expected to serve his first customer right away, pure insanity.

The first order was easy enough, a plain hamburger and a coke, and after searching the right buttons for a good two minutes, Owen managed to put in the order. However, the second customer wanted a milkshake, too, and that was the final straw. They really couldn't expect Owen to juggle such complex orders in his mind AND put them into the machine. Angrily, he shouted out in frustration and let his fist come down on the cash register with full force, again and again. Of course, the thin metal and plastic yielded to his rage and the machine broke.

"FUCK THIS FUCKING JOB!"

This was the breaking point for Owen. Everything had gone wrong since he had moved to this fucking city. No job, no money, no nothing! He tried to wriggle out of the way-too-small uniform top but ended up ripping it apart instead.

The manager ran over and pulled him from behind.

"Stop that! Stop that right now!"

"LET ME GO! I QUIT!"

"You're going nowhere! You can't leave after what you've done!"

With an angry roar, the now half-naked Owen shoved the manager against the counter with full force and stormed off. He didn't care if the manager wanted to call the police, or sue him, or whatever.

As soon as he arrived at his shabby apartment, Owen took out his laptop and started looking for jobs. He didn't get very far, though. The computer was confusing, and Owen was still feeling angry from his last job. He finally managed to pull up his favorite porn site and started watching videos.

The normal porn he usually consumed didn't do a good job of calming him down today. He needed something rougher, something more primal. The female porn stars were too weak for the sex to be stimulating, he decided.

After clicking through a few more videos, he spied a thumbnail of two guys getting at it roughly. Brilliant. When there were only men involved, the sex would be much better. They wouldn't take shit from the girls, and they'd be strong. Much more satisfying.

Seeing two men having sex brought back his cock to full erection and soon enough, Owen splattered his cum all over his muscular torso.

As the post-nut-clarity set in, Owen realized he had a problem. He needed something to channel all that rage into before it destroyed his life entirely. After some research, he decided to join a Krav Maga club.

The raw brutality of the sport helped Owen to tune off the complicated world around him and made him feel happy for the first time in weeks. He trained often and hard, quickly stacking even more muscles on his already impressive frame. Of course, Owen wasn't clever enough to grasp the techniques of the sport, so he just substituted it by raw strength. A lot of kicks and hits found their way into his face, but he was healing quickly as well. Over the course of a few weeks however, the brutality left its marks in his face. His nose looked crooked as if it had been broken and his jaw looked manly, but not exactly beautiful.

Still, joining the club was the best decision he could have made. He met some new friends, who set him up with a new job as a warehouse worker. Carrying crates and heavy barrels from one place to another was the perfect job for Owen. He didn't need to understand what he was moving, nor did he have to do any paperwork (not that he would have been able to - Owen had his trouble with letters and numbers, which left him pretty much illiterate). He just needed to do what his manager said, and he was happy for it.

Besides the Krav Maga, he found another outlet for his anger issues. Since he couldn't afford his flat anymore, Owen moved in with a couple of garbage workers he met at the warehouse. As it turned out, they, too, were gay and enjoyed it quite a lot when Owen split their cheeks roughly, not holding back one bit.

#male transformation #muscle transformation #dumbing down #straight to gay

[sunnebeam]

backstreet buildings.

A 'CITY OF LIGHTS' DRABBLE.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

warnings: smut (minors do not interact), wet humping, fighting (not physical, but they have a big argument), cheating (kinda, the first col drabble explains it better so it's better to read that first!), gangster squad au

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: our col!couple is back at it (like rabbits) again! there'll probably be another drabble or two after this to complete the au ^^

— previous: city of lights. | next: neon lights.

You thought it would be a one-time thing.

But one night of pleasure turned into several nights of passion. One night of secrecy turned into several nights of indulgence.

It's not far-fetched to say that this arrangement with Jungkook, like many other things in your life, is going out of your control.

But you aren't complaining.

“Fuck!”

Jungkook says the word breathlessly, his hands on your waist as the both of you stand under the shower head. It's one of those rare morning-afters when you don't have to rush back home at dawn, so the both of you are making the most out of it.

“Jungkook, mmm,” you moan, shifting your weight on your feet and arching your back to get a better angle. “Wait— Just...”

His hands grip your ass to pull you flush against his body. Slowly but surely, he rocks back and forth, rubbing your pussy lips with the length of his dick, fucking you but not really fucking you at the same time.

"Don't worry,” Jungkook says, grunting when you cross your legs with his cock right between your puffy pussy lips, your juices making him glide deliciously back and forth. "Not inside, okay?" he tells you as you moan again, wiggling your hips to stimulate both of your pleasures.

“You’re so pretty,” he groans. “And so wet, fuck.”

“And you’re so big," you whimper. “Want you inside me."

“I know, doll, but you're still sore from last night, remember? Shit, just like that—” A roll of his hips. “Besides, We don't have much time. Taehyung's coming back at noon, right?"

Again with the 'Taehyung.' It's always 'Taehyung this, Taehyung that.'

Of course, you've known all along that Jungkook and his crew are planning something against your mob boss boyfriend. You've known all along how much of a pawn you are in the grand scheme of things. You've known all along that what you and Jungkook have right now has a hidden motive behind it.

You've known all that, and yet you can't help but be disappointed.

If you were just a pawn, Jungkook didn't have to bring you soup and heating pads that one time you had cramps. If you were just a pawn, he didn't have to be content just snuggling with you that one night you weren't in the mood for sex.

If you were just a pawn, he doesn't have to care if you're sore or not.

You halt his movements, pulling away from him to turn around with your back against his chest. “You know I’m Taehyung's girl, right? Not you? You're awfully more up to date with him than I am,” you point out, reaching between your legs to place his dick back between your legs and wet-humping it.

“Well, that sounds like a you problem,” he teases, reaching around to play with your clit. “Maybe I should be the one dating him, then.”

“You'd love that, wouldn't you?” You reply, his fingers and your hips moving even faster and moments later, the both of you reach your highs, with your hole clenching around nothing and him finishing on your pussy.

After a few breaths, he kisses you tenderly before wrapping towels around you and himself, and leading you back to the bedroom. As he's turning away to put on his clothes, you notice something shiny peaking out from one of his pockets. Your heart stops when you see something gold.

A police badge.

Much later when you're both seated at his breakfast table, you're holding in your doubts and questions, choosing not to say anything yet as you finish your makeup and put on the earrings Taehyung got for you.

Maybe Jungkook notices how you've spaced out. Or maybe he notices how you've gone a bit distant. Either way, the shift in the air is noticeable and the tension is undeniably thick.

"Do you have to do that in front of me?" he asks, scowling through a mouthful of cereal.

You stop and stare at him.

"Do you have to make yourself pretty for him in front of me?" he spits out.

"What's the matter?" you ask him blankly.

"Why are you dressing up so much for him?"

"Why didn't you tell me you were a cop?"

Silence. The cat's out of the bag and there's no turning back now.

After a few tense beats, he tries to placate you. "I hid it to protect you," he sighs, his hand reaching out to touch yours. "Trust me."

You pull your hand away.

"No," you scoff. "I don't trust you, Jungkook, the bible salesman." You add, "I should've known life would do me dirty again."

"Hold on," he bites back. "You knew we were planning something. You knew I was trying to bring Taehyung down."

"I thought you were just like all the others who tried! You think you're the first one, Jungkook? You're not special," you say angrily. "How was I supposed to know you were the fucking police?"

He doesn't answer. Or more appropriately, he can't answer. His mouth opens and closes, no sound coming out.

"So if you're a cop," you start slowly, softly, your eyes on the table, "and your goal is to have Taehyung arrested... Where does that leave me?"

You look up at him.

"I'm in too deep," you continue. "My association with Taehyung runs too deep for me not to be implicated. If you arrest him..."

"Doll..."

"...will you arrest me, too?"

His silence tells you everything you need to know.

You stand up hurriedly, packing your things mindlessly and heading out the door.

Storming out of his place, you leave your disappointed heart and wistful dreams behind.

COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

#bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #bts smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook smut #bts fic #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook fic #jeon jeongguk x reader #jeongguk x reader #bts x you #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook x you #jeon jeongguk x you #jeongguk x you #cat.writes

[gtsdreamer2]

As much as you loved the thrill of being with Stacy, you had to break it off. The last straw was finding her rummaging through your research papers after she had forced your briefcase open.

"I couldn't help it!" she whined. "You never talk about your work and working is all you've been doing! I just wanted to see if it was almost done!"

"I told you, this is very secret, sensitive government information. The fact that I trusted you with the details of what my team is even working on should be enough for you!" You rubbed the sides of your head, a slight headache forming. Stacy fidgeted at being scolded before finding her spine.

"You're my boyfriend! Of course you should be able to tell me all about this! You should be proud of your work! I want you to open up about it! I want to see what you've been working on!" Her domineering attitude always surfaced when she was confronted.

"No. You're way too invested in this Stacy. You need to pack up whatever stuff you brought over since you've been staying here and go. I cant have you around when the project starts practical testing on monday." Her ears perked up.

"So it's almost done then?" She asked, trying to get info out of you.

"GET OUT!" You grabbed a handful of her stuff and pushed it into her arms ushering her out the door.

Stacy's mind was racing as she walked back to her car, hands full of personal items from her now ex's apartment. She was trying to collect her thoughts and formulate a plan. 'The device is almost done.' She thought to herself, starting to make a bullet point list of what to do next with what information she had. 'I have a spare key to Brad's apartment that he doesn't know I made. I copied his keycard for the lab, but I don't know if that's enough to get me in. Even if i do get my hands on it, I don't know how to work it since he caught me while I was still trying to make heads or tails of the schematics. 'I think I only have one shot at this and I need to act fast.' Stacy thought to herself. She opened her trunk and threw all her junk into it before speeding off towards the lab.

Stacy sat in her car in the parking lot of the lab, trying to manifest the will to enact her master plan. She took a deep breath before leaving the car to stride towards the lab. Her strides weren't very long. She was only five foot four in her heels that made a loud clack against the pavement. Her small breasts didn't so much as jiggle in her sports bra as she powerwalked to the door. Another deep breath and she was ready. 'Here goes everything.' She thought to herself before flashing her ex's badge over the reader. It turned green and the door lock clicked. She was in.

Meanwhile, you were trying to put all of your notes back together. You quickly realized that your keycard was missing. "Fuck!" You cursed out loud, realizing that she must be on her way to the lab. Knowing that phones don't work once you're in the building, you grabbed your keys so you could warn your coworkers who were hopefully in the building. You sped after your ex, hoping it wasn't too late.

Stacy confidently walked through the foyer past the empty front desk and into the lab area. She was trying to strut about the place as if she belonged there, but her heart rate was spiking. She reached the lab and finally laid eyes on the device for the first time. It sat in a glass case, the designated name GRP-MK1 on a little title card next to it. 'This is it!' She thought to herself, salivating at the thought of getting her hands on her prize. 'The Growth Ray Prototype Mark One.' She reached her hands out towards it.

"Hey, you can't be in here!" A male voice called out. She recognized it. It was your coworker Shawn. 'Shit shit shit shit shit!" She thought, before turning around and beaming the biggest, fakest smile she could muster.

"Shawn!" She exclaimed warmly, trying to act as if nothing was amiss.

"Stacy, what are you doing here?" He said puzzled. "You shouldn't be in here. "Where's Brad?"

"I thought he was here!" She said innocently. "He gave me his keycard and told me to bring him lunch so we could have a little date before he had to go back to work." She made big puppy eyes at her ex's coworker. "Maybe he forgot about me. He always seems to be forgetting about me. Do you think he could be cheating on me Shawn?" She started to force tears to well up in her eyes, forcing a wave of empathy to wash over the man that could make or break this whole operation.

"He said he was so excited to show me the first stages of the practical testing too!" She made sure to use the same terminology that Brad has used so Shawn would think she came by this information in a morally acceptable way.

"Well..." Shawn started, "I don't think he's cheating on you Stace. He talks you up all the time. You're his little firecracker of a girlfriend." She bristled at the word 'little' but tried not to show it. "Maybe he gave you the wrong day? Practical testing isn't supposed to start until tomorrow. Today is Sunday. There's no one here but me, and I'm just going over all the specifics so that everything will be ready by then."

Her eyes lit up with all this new information. Knowing it was just her and him, her demeanor shifted. "That's really too bad." She pouted, walking over to Shawn. "I really really wanted to see the device work. Stupid Brad was so excited to show me that he gave me the wrong day. And I'm busy tomorrow, so I'll never get another chance to see it. After he talked it up so much to me and everything.."

"I'm sorry Stacy. I wish there was something I could do to help." She gave him her best pleading face at this point.

"Well it's ready isn't it? Can't you just give me a teensy demonstration? Pretty please? No one has to know." She put her hand on his chest now. "Besides, don't you want to see that it works before tomorrow? I would hate for you to be doing all this work alone tonight and for something to not work tomorrow. They could blame you." He immediately saw her point.

"Well...I was going to say no and kick you out of here since you don't have any kind of clearance, but its nice to talk to a girl once in a while. You're right though, I should make sure it's calibrated correctly and ready for the real demonstration tomorrow. Just sit right over there behind the blast shield and I'll get it all set up. You're in for a treat." Shawn's ego began to flare and he was getting excited about showing this little cutie what they've been working on. 'Sure she's Brad's girl, but he isn't here.' He thought.

He grabbed an apple from the break room and brought it back to the lab. Stacy was sitting right where he told her to like a good listener. He set the apple on a pedestal. He than carefully picked up the GRP. He fiddled with the settings far away enough from Stacy where she couldn't see what he was doing. She cursed under her breath. "Almost ready?" She said in her cutesiest voice.

"Ya, we're there." Shawn replied. "Standby." He lowered his safety goggles a and walked back behind a line that was a certain distance away from the apple. "Ok. We're recording. On my mark in three, two, one. Engage." He fired a soft green light from the gun that hit the apple spot on. Once it found its mark, the beam locked and began to pulse into it. Stacy watched in awe as each pulse caused the apple to in turn pulse larger. It trippled in size in a matter of thirty seconds. She could feel a wet spot forming between her legs wishing that she could trade places with that apple. "Disengage in three, two, one. Power off." He switched the gun to off and the beam thinned and ended its connection to the hulking fruit.

"Is it safe to come over there now?" You said, not even trying to hide your manic excitement. He nodded and you quickly walked over to him. "That was incredible! It works even better than Brad said it would! I bet that's because you were the last one working on it! You're such a genius! And a stud!" Shawn was blushing now. He cleared his throat.

"Yes...well that was what you wanted to see and all I needed to test before tomorrow. I hope you're satisfied now." He began to put the gun back where it went.

"Wait!" She blurted, louder and more desperate than she intended. Shawn was taken aback. "I mean..." She said mousily. "Did it work? I can tell it looks bigger, but is it safe? Is it gonna blow up or something? Is that as big as you meant to make it? Can you make it small again? Sorry, I'm kind of dumb and don't really understand how it works or any of the science behind it. Could a smart guy like you make me feel at ease and explain it to a silly girl like me?" Shawn's ego flared again.

He held the device in his hands and turned to face her, delaying the return of the ray to its home. "That's a lot of questions for someone who isn't even supposed to be here." He paused. "Hell you seem just as interested in this stuff as your boyfriend. But I'm in such a good mood after the test worked, what the hell. First off, it worked just like it was supposed to. We had done the calibrations for this specific fruit with the hopes that the energy input over the time we alloted for would result in about a three times gain in overall mass. It looks like we've achieved that. Secondly, it's totally safe. All this GRP has done is deliver the proper nutrients and signals to tell the apple to 'grow' in a sense. The ray signals the cells in the organic material to accept the nutrients in the beam, get absorbed, and the cells then go through forced mitosis. The longer the beam stays on the organic matter, the longer the cells continue to go through the multiplication. So healthy cells make more healthy cells and result in growth. There are settings to localize the beam on different parts of the organic matter, so like you can make a giant banana without having a peel that's thicker than tree bark. It's just all in the settings." He seems so proud of his work. "Oh, and no, we can't shrink it down. We haven't worked even a little on the hypothesis of sucking the nutrients back out. Once it's big, it's big. Which is good for what we need it for." She liked that answer.

While her mind was racing with all the new information that had just been mansplained to her, Shawn twirled the raygun around like a six-shooter and pretended to fire a shot at Stacy before blowing on the tip, mimicking a cowboy in an old western. She opened her arms wide as if pretending (hoping) to be shot. Shawn just stared her down and gave her a puzzled look. "I wasn't gonna use it on you, Stace. Don't worry." Worry was the last thing on her mind as she gave a nervous giggle in reply.

"I know that. Of course you're not. You wouldn't want me to become more woman than you could handle." She batted her eyelashes at him and gave another silly giggle. "But..." She pressed on, "...what would have happened if you did?"

"Well trials on animals don't start for another few months at least. I mean, I've been tinkering with the settings for it sure, but we'd have to start with like bugs and mice and stuff first." Stacy stuck out her bottom lip.

"And here I thought you could help me get a little bit...bigger." She said accentuating the last word as she stuck out her tiny chest towards Shawn. "How about just a teensy bit? I could be the perfect test subject. I'm right here and I'm ready and we don't have to tell anybody. You said the apple was safe and you've been fiddling with the settings for animals. I'm an animal Shawn. Shoot me. Show me what that big brain of yours can do with that gun you've got there. Pretty please?" She laced her fingers together and pleaded her best.

"I guess it couldn't hurt." Shawn replied nervously. "I know it'll work and as long as I'm only growing you the smallest bit, no one should know. Stacy squealed with delight as she skipped over to the pedestal the apple was resting on. She picked it up with both hands and hefted it's weight a few times before gingerly setting it down and taking its place in the blast zone. She kicked her feet back and forth like am excited school girl while Shawn fiddled with the settings.

Meanwhile, you were tearing up the road doing eighty-five trying to get to the lab as quickly as possible. You had finally pulled up as Shawn had finished dialing in the machine.

"Alright, I've set it to all the proper specifications. It should work just fine on you and it should only add an inch. Two at the most. Are you ready?" Shawn seemed overconfident in his abilities, but after growing the fruit and also being spurred on by this small cutie in front of him, he couldn't not be.

"You have no idea." She replied, feeling the arousal flood her body at the prospect of finally getting to grow. "Hit me!" She demanded, opening her arms wide like before.

"Standby." Shawn began. "We're recording. First animal subject. Set for twenty seconds at one to two inches. On my mark in three, two, one. Engage." Pulling the trigger, the beam shot out and hit Stacy square in the chest. Immediately her whole body was flooded with an intense euphoria as each cell drank in the nutrients and received the signal to divide and multiply. 'Fuck. It's happening! It's really happening! I feel it!' Her whole body felt hot. Every nerve vibrating with pleasure, every neuron screaming for more. Her time was almost out though. She was too lost in the pleasure to hear Shawn counting down. "Disengage in three, two on-" just then you threw open the door to the lab after using the backup access panel to get in.

"Shawn, what the fuck are you doing?!" You screamed. Shawn meanwhile was focused on you now and failed to switch off the device after the alloted time. Stacy squirmed in pleasure as she felt her clothing grow tight against her expanding body. She tried as hard as she could not to moan or cry out or draw any attention to herself so she could grow as long as possible.

"I can explain! I wanted to make sure that everything was ready for the demonstration tomorrow so I was going to try it out and then your girl wanted me to make her a little bigger and

.." Shawn returned his focus to Stacy now, who has been basking in the beam for upwards of a minute by now. "Disengage!" He said frantically as he turned off the beam.

Stacy was taking up a considerable amount more of the pedestal than before. Even sitting, you could tell that your ex had grown substantially. "Mmmmph. Thanks Shawn. That was incredible. Even better than I could have imagined. She stood up and the seams on her jeans split. "Fuck that's hot. I outgrew my damn pants. Oh hi Brad." She said nonchalant as she strutted with her new, longer legs over to Shawn. She had grow. About a whole foot and was now slightly taller than the man holding the gun. "What do you think?" She asked, giving him a little twirl.

"I think I messed up and made you too big. I'm sorry! You only wanted to be a teensy bit bigger and now you're taller your boyfriend." He looked so small and pitiful to her while apologizing.

"Who, him?" She gestured over to you. "Oh he broke up with me earlier today. I'm actually single now if you think you can handle all this, big boy." She was still incredibly aroused, but she wanted so much more. "Oh and don't worry about holding down the trigger for longer on accident. I think that was for the best. After all, I'm not done. I want you to turn it up and hit me again."

"Stacy, what are you-" you began, but she quickly cut you off.

"Shut the fuck up Brad. I've been waiting years for this little project of yours to finally become a reality. I've always dreamed about becoming bigger. I've fantasized about it since I was a little girl. And up until now I've never felt like anything more than a little girl and certainly never been treated as anything more than such. But now you've finally helped me become so much more! Too bad we aren't together anymore though. Truly. This new body of mine feels like it could have really given you a good time. Growing has really turned me on!" She rubbed her hand over the remains of her denims before tearing them away to reavel the tightest soaked pair of pink panties, holding on for dear life. She then turned her attention back to Shawn. "Now Shawn, I'm not going to tell you again. Hit me." She took another step closer to him as he tried to back away but found himself cornered against a wall of the lab. Stacy struck like a snake and placed her hand over Shawn's on the gun. She placed the nozzle straight against her top, which could barely contain her still hardly sizable bust, and squeezed his hand against the trigger.

The beam shot out directly into her chest as the pleasure exploded once more through her cells. "Mmmph! Yes! There it is again! I don't have to hold back about how fucking good this feels now!" She let out a loud moan as the growth resumed. Panting and pressing against Shawn, she humped the air as her cells responded to the beam. You ran over to try and break the connection, but Stacy was too strong now. In her euphoric state, adrenaline surging through her, she kicked you clear across the room, knocking the air out of your lungs. As she lifted her leg to send you flying, her panties tore away, utterly defeated by her growing hips.

At eight feet, the pleasure had finally built up to be too much. Stacy released her grasp on the ray and fell backwards, spasming in orgasmic bliss as the beam was finally shut off from Shawn. She topped out at nine feet tall, taking up a significant amount of the floor as she came down from her high. Meanwhile you looked on from the other side of the room as your ex lover shook and cooed at her own magnificence.

This was your one chance you thought to yourself. "Shawn!" You croaked with what little air remained in your lungs. He broke away from his fixation on the post climax giant before him to look at his floored coworker. You made a key turning gesture towards him to signal him to lock the device away. He quickly turned away from Stacy and made a dash for the case. As soon as she realized what was happening and shot to her feet.

"No!" She screamed, lunging after Shawn as he shut and locked the device away inside a metal gun safe. "Open it! I'm not finished!" She roared trying to intimidate Shawn with her sheer magnitude.

"No way!" Shawn said, clearly oblivious to the predicament that you were both currently in. "We outnumber you two to one, and now that the GRP is safely locked away, we wont let you get any bigger than you already are! Look at you! You're like ten feet tall!"

"I know! Stacy bellowed with glee, "It's amazing! I feel so so good! No more 'little firecracker.' No more submissive pixie girlfriend. No more shy reserved daughter." She swung her arm into Shawn then as you were finally gaining the ability to breathe again. He only flew a few feet, but he hit the ground with a hard thud. As you began to crawl towards her, she put both of her arms on the gun safe, violently pulling at the handle to no avail. Then she spotted you.

"Help me open this, wont you honey?" She said, feigning sweetness. She picked you up with two hands by the back of your shirt and pressed your face against the cold steel front of the safe. She put her face right next to your ear as she whispered. "Don't make me make you. You know I can."

You felt her big strong hand pressing into your back. You knew she was strong enough to break you at this point. You were cursing Shawn under your breath for letting things get this out of hand. You were cursing yourself for letting her trick you out of your keycard in the first place. She increased the pressure against your back again in an attempt to force you into compliance. And then you did. "Ok." you muttered, defeated. You pressed the code into the safe and the light on it turned from red to green as you heard the lock click open. Stacy tossed you aside like rubbish and then opened the safe. Now, for the first time, she held the gun solely in her hands. You and Shawn were both struggling to get back on your feet as the mini giantess fussed with the settings.

"It's really intuitive once you get into it." She said out loud as she started turning all the dials way up past their recommended limits. "It does help that I got to skim through your notes honey." She smirked, looking down at you. She was getting aroused again at how much further she would be looking down at you very shortly. "And adjust this for my tits. This for my muscle mass. This for...well all of me. Setting the timer to automatically shut off after...never." She giggled as she rigged the gun to never stop after it was switched on. "Now I just set it up here out of the boys' reach aaaaand." She got into position and flipped the switch. Immediately the whole room glowed with the brightness emanating from the gun as it funneled an otherworldly amount of energy directly into Stacy's chest.

Her whole body burned in an inferno of pleasure as her cells struggled to take in the nutrients and information from the beam. "Aaaah, it feels so good! Fuck! I feel like my each of my cells is getting themselves off to this fucking feeling! All of her muscles contracted as the cells drank in enough energy to burst. Her whole body glowed the color of the beam as she felt her orgasm start to build. Then, in recognition of the beams orders, all her cells started to multiply at an exponential rate. Her body doubled to twenty feet as she doubled over to not break though the roof. Then she doubled again, lifting the gun and cradling it in her hand as she destroyed the building that previously caged her. Shawn was crushed by the debris, but a steel girder protected you as the sides of the building collapsed around you. All you could see was smoke and falling rubble, but your ears were ringing with the laughter and moans of your power-drunk ex girlfriend.

"More more more! She screamed as she stood up to her full height of 50 feet, the GRP shooting out from her hands at her as she held it gingerly away from herself. She doubled again to one hundred feet and took a few steps in the opposite direction from where you were trapped, crushing everything underfoot. 'She doesn't even feel the lives she's taking' You thought to yourself as your manic pixie giant doubled again.

"Bigger!" She cried as she doubled again to two-hundred feet now before the gun sputtered out and stopped. Dropping the gun and then dropping on her ass, Stacy began to vigorously touch herself, making sure to relish in the pleasure of her new size before the euphoria wore off. She cupped her finally stable breasts, squirming and moaning as her juices flooded the crushed city in front of her.

Finally coming back to reality, Stacy looked around. "Oh boyfriend!" She called out lovingly. "Where are you? I need you to make me another one of those rayguns because that one broke. I'm still not done!" She gave a giant pout before looking at the rubble, picking you out of it, and bringing you close to her face. "You don't have a problem with that, right dear? Not that you have a choice either."

#short brunette #gts #giantess #size kink #sizetumblr #macro #size difference #minigiantess #mega giantess #growth #gts story #gts writing

[tranquil-ivy]

Violet would bring Leon to her show and tell day at school, practically bragging about how her daddy’s was a high government official. She’d give a brief description of his job, all while little ‘Wow!’ And ‘Ooo’s!’ Echoed throughout the classroom.

Everyone found it cool—especially the boys. They’d ask him questions, he’d show his cool little DSO badge, tell them stories that won’t traumatize a set of 7/8 year olds. The boys in the class would obviously ask if he has a gun, he just laughs it off and says ‘Maybe.’

After that day; all of her classmates were convinced that she had the coolest daddy in the world.

- Anon! 🎀

(P.S. Love you too pookie <3)

Also, all the kids ask if he has a cruiser like a cop does to which he just responds "No, but I do drive a motorcycle."

Insert room full of gasps here

Violet has kids begging to be invited to her house for playdates constantly and kids fighting over party invites for birthdays, sleepovers or just little get togethers.

But that's when Leon and her mom have to sit her down and talk about what real friends are like because some kids are mean. Very mean...

I'd imagine some kid in her class would start picking on her out of jealousy from so many people thinking her dad is cool. And wanting to be her friend.

This kid... He's a massive asshole for a 7-8 year old.

Now Leon is a pretty docile parent. Would much rather sit down and talk it out with the kids parents but his wife.... Mama bear. Do. No. FUCK. With her family...

Has definitely had Leon had to drag her away at PTA meetings or school functions to not fight this kids dad. She doesn't give a shit if he's a grown man or twice her size. She's not scared to fight a man.

As often as Leon has had to haul his wife away he still appreciates her being a strong woman. This is the kind of woman he wants their daughters to become. People who defend others and fight for their beliefs. Even if he can't always do that himself he values those who do.

It's part of the reason why he fell in love with you in the first place. (I'm gonna make myself cry...)

Eventually this kid becomes a nuisance and Violet gets permission to tell this kid off without censoring herself. And my God does that little lady have a mouth on her...

A WEEKS WORTH OF DETENTION!

But her parents fight with the school to get it off her record because the kid comes clean about being a little dick.

When Violet got home and told her parents what happened they both make sure she knows she did the right thing. Reassure her and reward her for sticking up for herself by taking her and baby Cecilia for ice cream. And she gets a toy.

They honestly can't not spoil her...

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon s kennedy #🏡 domestic life with leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #🌿 ivy replies #🌿 ivy writes

[strangeshoepatrolbandit]

Batfam x GN!Bat!Reader.

Summary: Bruce had another kid in Arkham asylum that nobody knows about.

Warnings: Murder, Arkham asylum, Reader can see the dead, Bruce being a bad father, hallucinations, delusions

Yes, I know that a psychiatric visit wouldn't go like this, I also know that hallucinations don't normally work like this, but it's a fictional world with a bat inspired vigilante, use your imagination.

Part one

~☆~

"Bruce, what the fuck!" Tim had yelled as he ran into the Manor.

Dick had abandoned the thought of taking Damian and going to get both Tim and Jason. Even if they showed up at the asylum with proof that they were your adoptive siblings and half sibling, they would still have a slim chance of getting to meet you.

"Calm down, Matster Timothy.." Alfred had tried his best to make the tension die down. He himself only knew of you from the brief explanation Bruce gave him five years ago.

"Calm down?!"

"Listen, I mean I could go in there with my badge and get to at least meet them." Dick proposed, searching his brain for a way to meet you.

"Yeah, we all could with our reputations." Jason made himself known by talking about their vigilante personas. He was weirdly calm throughout this entire thing. "Why have you never mentioned them?" Oh, now they could see it. He was acting... he's seething.

"I-" Bruce thought of something to say. "When they were fourteen, their mother was murdered. I was asked to survey the scene, and they had told me about how they weren't even there-"

"Where is this going, father?" Damian interrupted.

"And then we looked inside one of M/N's journals. Y/N has a history of delusions that they fully believe."

"So you shut them out because of that?" Tim asked, genuinely trying to grasp ahold of what was going on.

"I know that they wouldn't want me in their life, M/N didn't, so why would Y/N?" Bruce sighed.

Jason opened his mouth to speak but was beat by Dick speaking first. "We're going up there. We are going to meet them!"

×

"So you're Y/N's family." Dr. Conley spoke. "Bruce Wayne... I would not have called that."

"Can we see Y/N or not?" Damian asked, boredom evident on his face.

Dr. Conley took in a breath before setting a file on the table in front of herself. "Y/N is plagued by hallucinatory delusions. They believe that they can see the dead."

"Can they? I mean, we have aliens roaming around." It was Dicks turn to speak.

"No, they can't. They claim that two of the "people" they see are named Alice and Mathew, old residents of the asylum." Dr. Conley sighed. "We've never had any residents named Alice and Mathew Hallows."

"Are those her friends?" Tim asked.

"Yes."

×

"Y/N, you have some visitors." Dr. Conley told you, a small smile tugging at her dark skin.

You got up from where you sat, silently gesturing both Alice and Mathew to follow you. Dr. Conley guided you out of the main building and into a sanctuary that you had never been in.

"I'm still in isolation." You told her, afraid that you would get in trouble for being out of your room.

"We've made an exception." She smiled again, now opening up a door for you. As you walked in, you immediately noticed the one face you hoped you'd never see. Bruce Wayne.

And his little ducklings all sitting with him.

Dr. Conley pulled out a chair for you to sit in, but you never noticed that. All you could focus on was Bruce avoiding eye contact.

"Y/N." She snapped you out of your daze, finally letting you sit down. All seven of you sat awkwardly, not muttering a single thing. The boys just gave you small smiles.

Just as Dick was about to say something you spoke.

"You think I killed her, don't you?"

The room remained silent, offering Bruce's avoidance on a silver plater. "I would never, I loved her."

"You don't know what it was like out there, I was hungry, and so was she...I was getting us food-" You cut yourself off as you began shouting. "and when I came back, she was....dead."

Tears had started to unwillingly fall from your eyes, something that Bruce noticed as he finally looked up at you. "And I'm not crazy." You whispered.

You noticed the weary looks that everyone around the room shared. "What?" You asked.

When none of them answered you turned to look at Dr. Conley, taking notice of her frown.

"Y/N.." She whispered, "There are no records of an Alice and Mathew Hallows."

"What?" You laughed.

"We've looked at computer documents and paper documents... they just aren't real."

You looked at everybody in the room, hoping to find a smile on one of their faces, signifying that this was all a joke.

You whipped your body around to face Alice and Mathew. The young man, whom you've grown to know very well, only looked at you with a sorry look, and Alice stared at Dr. Conley with wide eyes.

This couldn't be real. She was lying.

You quickly turned to look at Dr. Conley, before going back to look at Alice and Mathew. This time, Mathew was nowhere to be seen, seemingly having turned to air.

"Y/N, no, she's lying, I'm real!" Alice yelled, grabbing at her face to convince herself.

"I know, I know!" You tried to make her feel better, but the hysteria under your skin started to break free.

"No, I'm real!" She was crying now. "I'm real!"

You turned to look at everyone in the room, about to ask them for help, only to stop yourself when you noticed their wide eyes. You heard Alice's cries die down but never turned to face her again. You were sitting there just staring at the people around the room.

When you came back to your senses you tried to mutter out, "We need to he-" you paused, "-lp her?"

Alice was gone.

~☆~

I know that people wanted a "holy shit you can see the dead" reaction, but I strive to suprise.

Also, I think I'm going to post a follow-up of this fic, just to see how Y/N's dealing with it and how their relationship with the batbros turns out.

I have another two part Asylum!bat!Reader in the works if you're interested.

Taglist:

@godknows-shetried @cookielovesbook-akie

@kinkmaster96 @sen-nes @bbnny

[ixexile]

Mrs. Officer

I made this for my best friend and had nowhere else to post this so sorry if it's shitty the last time I wrote fan fiction was in 2012 about One Direction (I also don't know how to add the cool pics yall do)

**Hardly proof read**

“I make her wear nothing but handcuffs & heels and I beat it like a cop”

y/n’s POV

It’s been five months since Nate ended things with me and by this point I thought I would be healed from everything he put me through but I still find myself missing parts of him. I miss the status it gave me, I miss the chaos, I miss the holidays back in Boston and being surrounded by his family and friends. Well, except Chris, I do not miss Chris. Chris has been in Nate’s life since they were small and was always around throughout our two year relationship - I tried so hard to gain a connection with my ex's best friend but no matter what Chris was standoffish and cold. We all go to the same small university in Pennsylvania and my sorority and their fraternity always have events together so keeping away from them has been challenging. Lately I have been mostly keeping to myself and trying to stay away from any mixers or events because I can not face them and honestly it’s not even Nate who gets under my skin the most it’s Chris. When he sees me around campus he acts like he has never met me or rolls his eyes at me or makes some snide comment about what I am wearing. I am sure Nate has told him that I do not care for him but he is the one who was a dick to me first and at this point he needs to grow up. Tonight is Halloween and I have decided I am finally going out tonight. I am known as the party girl in my sorority and my absence has not gone unnoticed and I can not give Chris Sturniolo the satisfaction of thinking he is controlling me and I will make sure to wear a costume that will really piss Chris off.

Chris’ POV

“Do you think y/n is coming tonight?” I asked while mindlessly scrolling on my phone. 

“For the tenth time Chris I have no fucking clue if she is coming tonight. Why do you keep asking me? If you care so much, text her” Nate rants. 

“Assuming I care about that bitch is really bold kid” I mutter, still not looking up from my phone.

 “I mean you were the one who was interested first until I slid in and stole her from you” Nate teases. 

“That was almost two years ago” I roll my eyes. ”I am just happy you are the one who got stuck with her” I smirk at Nate.

I can't grasp what exactly makes me tick about y/n. Was it the fact Nate purposefully went after her once I showed interest? Was it the slutty outfits she paraded around on campus? Her smart mouth? I can’t figure it out but all I knew was she drove me crazy and made my dick twitch.

“Let’s get ready for the party, people will probably start getting here soon” Nate says, startling me out of my train of thought.

“Yeah, okay” I nod, getting up from the couch. 

y/n’s POV

“Are you sure this looks okay?” I say while staring at the full length mirror looking at myself in every angle possible. It’s not that I’m not confident I just want my comeback to be memorable. I decided on being a sexy cop wearing a crop top, a badge, short shorts, a hat and functional handcuffs. 

“Yes y/n you are slaying! Nate is going to be so pissed.” Madi beams back at me in the mirror. I shake my head and stifle a smile. As much as I don’t want to see him it would be fun to remind him of what he had. 

“I don’t want this night to be about him” I say, turning to Madi, looking into her eyes. Madi is dressed as the corpse bride. “I am honestly going to do my best to steer clear from him and his douchebag of a friend.” 

“No no I agree, you just look really good” she squeezes my hand. " I wish Chris wasn’t such a douche, I mean he is pretty hot.” Madi giggles.

“I would never.”

As we start nearing the Fraternity house my nerves start getting the best of me and my stomach starts to turn. I slow down walking, trying to catch my breath and Madi notices. 

“Y/n I love you but I am not letting you talk your way out of this one. You can not let them control your life. After a couple of drinks I am sure that you will relax and this house will be packed. You might not even see them.” Madi assured me. I nod my head, run my hands over my face and let out a deep breath.

“Okay..fuck..okay let’s go” I say while grabbing her hand and we take off towards the house. 

Chris’ POV

The music is so loud and my head is swimming..I think I may have pre gamed too hard. My nerves are shot at the thought I may see y/n tonight after what feels like months without properly seeing her. She hasn’t been around much and I would know because I scope out every event looking for her but I know Halloween is her favorite. She would always make Nate carve pumpkins and bring her to haunted houses. He complained to me the whole time but I would have done anything to be in position. To watch how scared she would get and hold her and make her feel safe. No matter how hard I tried I was always a dick to her while she dated my best friend..I was just so fucking jealous and couldn’t stand the way he treated her and she just let him. Fuck, I need to get some fresh air. I start making my way out the house when some girl I am pretty sure I hooked up with last semester stops me.

“Oh my god are you supposed to be Steve Harrington from Stranger Things?” she slurs.

“Yeah and I am guessing you’re supposed to be Eleven?” I ask flatly. 

“How did you know?! Yes! Can we please take a picture together?” she smiles.

“Yeah whatever” I put my sunglasses up on my head and bring my bat up.

“Thaaaannkk you Chrisss” she says hardly being able to stand. I just nod and try to find the nearest exit of the house. I step out onto the porch and close my eyes. Maybe y/n won’t come tonight. 

“Madi please stop walking so fast these shoes are not meant to do fucking track and field” I hear y/n yell and my eyes fly open. 

“Sooorrry y/n” I hear Madi sing while skipping.  

Before I can retreat back into the house, y/n spots me. Madi grabs her hand and they start making their way up the stairs to the front door.

“Chrisropher” Madi snaps.

“Madi” I snap back. 

Y/n walks past me without looking in my direction. Of course she would be wearing some slutty costume. I absent-mindedly adjust myself before saying “Come y/n it’s been so long, haven’t you missed me? No hello?” I smirk.

“Fuck you Chris” y/n spits. 

y/n’s POV

“Okay I hate to laugh but the fact that Chris was the first person we saw is kind of crazy” Madi laughs once we enter the packed living room. I laugh and roll my eyes.

“I definitely need a drink after that, do you want one Madi?”

“Yes please”

 I walk towards the keg and wait in line. I’m actually not as shaken up as I thought I would be after seeing Chris. I will just never understand his issue with me but I am not letting myself ruminate on it. I fill Madi and I’s cups up and as I turn around I can feel the liquid spill down the front of me. 

“Oh shit sorry…wait y/n! A little birdy told me you were here I guess I didn’t believe them” Nate says.

“Hello Nate. Yeah I’m here and now my costume is ruined thanks to you.” I grumble as I grab napkins to wipe myself off. 

“How are you?” Nate slurs. “I am sorry for all the like shit I put you through y/n really I am” he pouts while putting his hand over his heart.

“All the shit? Do you mean cheating on me for two years with multiple girls? You mean humiliating me in front of everyone? Is that the ‘shit’ you are referring to?” I snarl.

“You know Chris always told me that you were just some dumb girl and I really should have listened to him. You can't even take a sincere apology from the man who made you who you are.” Nate boasts.

“Made me who I am?” I laugh. “Nate you are a president of a Fraternity get the fuck over yourself my god.” I yell. I make my way back to Madi with two half filled cups.

“Umm..what happened to you?” Madi asks, scanning my face while grabbing her cup.

“I don’t even know it’s so packed in here. I just kept getting bumped into! I am going to go to the bathroom and clean myself up!.” I can’t let Madi know what happened between Nate and I. I don’t want to ruin her night but I just need to have a little bit of alone time.

“I can come with you if you want! Maybe help you with your costume?” Madi offers.

“I’m okay, thank you” I offer her a smile.

“Keep your phone with you y/n, I mean it” she says sternly. I salute her and she rolls her eyes. 

Chris’ POV

“Wait you spilled a drink on y/n? Purposefully?” I ask Nate while standing in the kitchen.

“Not purposefully but whatever she deserved it” Nate states. “You should’ve seen the look on her face once she realized it was me.” Nate laughs.

“You do realize that you are the one that cheated on her and made her life a living hell?” I ask, feeling my face get hot.

“What? Now you suddenly care about y/n’s feelings? Didn’t seem like you cared too much when you were trying to convince me to break up with her for two years” Nate responds while putting his hand to his chin while pretending to think hard. “But you know I could always tell you wanted her” he wags his finger at me.  “You wanted to feel her mouth around you didn’t you? You wanted to hear her moaning your name, right?” Nate taunts.

“You better fucking watch it kid” I say while shoving Nate. 

“Okay enough let’s break it up” some random guy yells while getting in between Nate and I. I decided to head to the bathroom to try to cool off. I don’t know why I have been such a prick to y/n when Nate is obviously the issue. Great, no line to the bathroom. I try the door and it's locked. Of course. I knock loudly on the door.

“Yo, is anyone there?” No response. “Hello? Come on bro I have to go” I yell over the loud music. I put my ear to the door and I can hear the water running and sniffing. 

y/n’s POV

I feel like such an idiot while I stand in front of the mirror trying to desperately get this sticky beer off of me and fix my makeup. Why am I even crying? This is such a pathetic state to be in at a party.

“Yo, is anyone there?” someone yells. “Hello? Come on bro I have to go.” 

I freeze. It’s Chris. Of course it’s Chris, why wouldn’t it be Chris? Please god get me out of here. The excessive knocking is making my head hurt.

“WHAT?” I yell throwing the door open to be met with a startled Chris.

“Were you crying in there? Chris asked with his eyebrow slightly raised.

“Nothing gets past you huh?” I say while trying to get past him.

“Oh no you are going nowhere” he says while pushing me back in the bathroom and locking the door behind him.

“What is your fucking issue with me Chris?” I snap.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about y/n '' he starts.

“Spare me the bullshit you haven’t liked me since the day we met and I haven’t done anything to you!”

“Haven’t liked you that's rich” Chris mocks. “Haven’t liked you y/n? You have been all I thought about for two fucking years but you chose Nate.”

“What? What are you talking about?” I ask wondering if I heard him right. Chris sits on the side of the bathtub and puts his face in his hands. Chris sighs.

“I don’t know what I am saying” he mumbles through his hands.

“I mean you can start off with a sorry perhaps” I say while prying his hands away from his face. He looks up at me and smiles and rolls his eyes. 

“I am sorry y/n I really am. I don’t know why I have treated you the way I have for so long. I think I may have been jealous of you know like your relationship or whatever” Chris confesses.

“What? Did you think I was trying to get in between you and Nate? I never wanted that” I say while putting my hands up defensively. Chris giggles.

“You really are dense, aren’t you?” he stands up towering over me. “I wanted you y/n..just you” he stares down at me. I feel like I am being pranked, is there a camera in this bathroom? Is Nate outside listening? 

“Don’t fuck with me Chris” I whisper and shove his chest. “This isn’t funny at all. You act like you don’t even know me anymore. It’s been five months and this is the first time we’ve held a conversation and you want me to trust you? I can’t.” I say holding back tears. I have felt so alone after the breakup and I can’t handle being taunted.

“No I get that” he says while tucking a hair behind my ear “I have been really shitty towards you and I guess if I was you I wouldn’t trust me either but I am serious “ he tips my chin up forcing me to look into his eyes “I have wanted you for so long, Ma” he licks his lips. I involuntarily squeeze my thighs together looking for any type of friction.

“Chris” I whisper.

“And that fucking outfit jesus christ y/n” he smirks down at me. “Turn around for me baby..bend down in front of the sink” he whispers in my ear. I’m fucked. I turn around slowly and see my flushed face in the mirror and bend down. Chris tuts.

“No, don’t get all shy on me y/n. I have heard you in Nate’s dorm. Look in the mirror.” Chris demands. 

Chris’ POV

I look in the mirror and see y/n’s flushed face. I can tell she’s breathing heavily with the way her breath is fogging up the mirror. I press my clothed hard on against her and she bucks her hips back. “You’re such a needy girl aren’t you? I have been waiting for this for so long Ma you have no idea. We are going to take our time. Can you be a good girl for daddy?” Y/n nods her head. “Words baby”

“I’m going to be a good girl Chris” Y/n says breathlessly. I back away from her and she whimpers. My hand meets her ass with a loud crack which makes her jolt. “Who are you going to be a good girl for?” I tease. 

“A good girl for you daddy..always a good girl for you” she whimpers. I can tell she’s embarrassed with the way she keeps trying to hide her face. 

“And I want you to watch y/n I want you to watch yourself while I touch you okay? I want you to see all the pretty faces you make” I lean over and whisper in her ear. She nods again. “Words y/n. I’m not going to tell you again.”

“Yes daddy,” she moans. 

“Pull your shorts down.” I watch as she pulls her shorts down as I palm myself through my jeans. No underwear. I lock eyes with her in the mirror. “No underwear y/n? You’re such a slut huh? Look at you clenching around nothing” I tut. “I bet you wanted me to find you like this with your shorts off bent over the sink with your pussy soaked” I laugh. 

“Please” she whines. 

“Please what baby?” I taunt. 

“Please daddy please touch me I need you so bad”

y/n’s POV

I never would have thought I would be begging Chris Sturniolo to touch me but here I am bent over a sink with my pussy on full display for him. I have never experienced anything like this before. Sure Nate and I had sex but never like this and I’m almost scared I won’t be able to take it. Chris gets on his knees and starts kissing up the back of the thighs and I can feel myself dripping down my legs. 

“God look at you Ma, you look so pretty” Chris says and while wiping up my slick and putting his fingers in his mouth letting out a satisfied moan. I clench begging for something, anything at this point. “And look at how you respond to me, you're such a good girl.” Chris spreads my legs and buries his face in my pussy and focuses on my clit. 

“Fuuck Chr…Daddy.” I moan out. He swirls his tongue around my entrance before plunging it fully in making my buck my hips against his face. “S-Sorry Daddy I didn’t mean to move.” I plead. 

“No baby it’s okay I want you to fuck my face like the little slut you are” Chris says while grabbing my ass. I start fucking myself against his tongue and I can feel my legs start to shake. 

“I’m close..I’m so close” I pant and Chris snakes his arm through my legs and starts drawing lazy circles around my clit. “Yes please just like that…nghhh..fuck fuck I am going to cum” I scream out and I see stars while I ride out my orgasm all over Chris’ face. 

Chris’ POV 

Y/n turns her head to face me and giggles. 

“What?” I smirk. 

“You still have all of your clothes on” she laughs. I stand up and she turns to face me and grabs the back of my neck. Our lips smash together and I let out and moan as she bites my lip and runs her hands through my hair. She grabs my sunglasses off of the top of my head and places them on her eyes, breaking the kiss. 

“Against the wall Daddy” she barks at me trying not to laugh. 

“Oh are you giving orders now?” I smirk. I can feel a wet spot sticking to the tip of my cock. 

“Well I am the cop you know? So..against the wall” she stands on her toes and whispers in my ear. I back up against the wall and watch her unbuckle my belt. 

“Shirt off” I whisper while taking her police hat off her head and running my hands through her hair. She surprisingly listens, taking her shirt off. “Bra too” I say. I watch in awe as her tits bounce. “Fuck y/n. You are stunning.” She pulls my boxers down and my cock springs out hitting her face. I hiss at the cool air. 

“You’re so big daddy” she looks up at me through my sunglasses. I just nod and lick my lips. I don’t know how long I am going to last if she keeps looking at me like that. She kitten licks the tip of my cock and I can’t help but buck my hips forward burying my cock in her throat. She hums around my cock making me throw my head back. 

“You’re taking me so well fuck. I want you to get yourself ready for me okay baby? Stretch yourself out for daddy” I instruct her while I watch her finger her pussy. I grab her hair fucking her throat and watch her gag and spit on my cock. She grabs my balls and gives them a firm a squeeze. “Fuck yeah Ma, just like that. You going to swallow all of me y/n?” I moan out. She nods and looks up at me through her wet eyelashes. My hips stutter as I squeeze my eyes shut and cum down her throat. 

y/n’s POV

I make sure to lap any cum with my tongue as Chris winces at the sensitivity. 

“You are fucking unreal y/n” Chris laughs. 

“Oh I know” I wink back at him. 

“Are those handcuffs real?” Chris nods at the handcuffs left on the top of the toilet already getting hard again. 

“Yeah” I smile shyly back at chris. “They’re real” 

“Stand up, turn around and hands behind your back” Chris demands and I do as I’m told. I know he had me stretch myself out but I can’t help being a little nervous considering he is way larger than Nate. Chris walks over, grabs the handcuffs and cuffs my hands behind my back. 

“Bend”

I bend over the sink and glance up at Chris who is just staring at me. 

“What?” I ask nervously looking at his reflection in the mirror. 

“You just look so good I can’t even believe my eyes bro” Chris says dumbfounded. 

“Calling me bro right now is crazy” I say rolling my eyes.

“Right..sorry officer” Chris winks at me and lines up with my entrance and grabbing my hips. He slids into me slowly without breaking eye contact. He is so fucking huge. 

“Jesus y/n your pussy was fucking made for me” Chris moans and bottoms out. I can feel him in my stomach. “You tell me when to move baby…you’re taking me so well, such a good girl for me” he soothes me while rubbing my back. 

“S..slow please move slow.” I whine out. Chris starts moving slowly and I rock my hips back starting fuck myself back on his cock.

“Yeah baby, you're doing so good. You look so pretty fucking yourself on my cock for me. Can I go faster?” Chris breathes out. 

“Please daddy” I moan. Chris wastes no time and starts to pound into my pussy. 

“Deep breaths baby you can take me, fuck you’re so wet” Chris mumbles and lifts my leg up until my knee is on the sink. “Fucking look at you Ma so fucking good for me” he pants. I just nod my head. “Have I fucked you dumb baby? Too tired to talk to your daddy?” Chris laughs.

“Gonna cum” I mumble out, hardly able to talk.

“Go ahead baby cum all over my cock make a mess all over me y/n” Chris grunts. I scream out cumming all over him while babbling. Chris continues to pound into me.

“Dad..dy too sensitive” I whimper.

“I know baby I’m almost there, so good for me” Chris huffs out. “Can I cum in you baby?” he questions.

“Please daddy please come in me” I beg.

“Yeah want me to fuck my baby into you? Want everyone to know you’re mine you dirty slut” Chris’ hips stutter filling me with his hot cum. We both hiss while he pulls out of me. 

“Here let me get those cuffs off of you, do your arms hurt?” he says, looking concerned.

“Just a little but I’m okay though” I smile at him. Chris helps me clean myself up and presses a kiss to my forehead.

“I really hope this isn’t it. I’d really like to hang out more, you know? I have a lot to make up to you” Chris says.

“I don’t think this will be the last time Chris but I really have to go find Madi” I laugh. 

“She’s going to kill you” he says while shaking his head.

“I know I have 40 missed calls”

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #smut #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo

[pastanest]

A/N: unbelievably, this is the first actual piece of Doctor Who writing not counting the dogshit on my wattpad account we’ll all pretend that doesnt exist fr so please be nice x

Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve x gender neutral!reader

The Doctor x Short!Reader

- is cheeky about it but not outright mean, unless he’s in one of his God-humans-are-the-fucking-worst moods

“Honestly, it’s like you idiots are TRYING to wipe your own planet out of existence, and you, well, you can't even reach the top of your own cupboards! What use are any of you?!”

- you’re literally on his side and think the human race sucks but ok go off, way to throw us all under the bus lol

- he’ll apologize afterwards if you’re clearly upset or if he thinks he went too far

- most of the time it’s very lighthearted jabs at your height

- always waits a few seconds before helping you reach something because he thinks it’s funny and also very sweet but he won't dare admit that

- as much as he convinces himself and everyone he encounters that your height is solely something he finds hilarious on occasion, he can't help feeling a little more protective of you, like your smaller form makes you more likely to break

- very much still recovering from the Time War, he’s prone to overthinking disaster scenarios, especially when it comes to you

“Stay behind me. These creatures can't be trusted at the best of times.”

- but you always find a way to spin it into something more lighthearted, to ease his mind

“I’m a smaller target than you, so I like my chances! Perhaps it’s you that should stay behind me?”

- won't make fun unless he knows for a fact you’re comfortable with it

- as soon as he finds out you are, he makes jokes only in a very lighthearted way

- also comes up with cute nicknames to use when you’ve done something that’s impressed him, like saved a civilization or two while he was busy being broody and hot or something

“Oh, you little star!”

- generally speaking, he doesnt really care about your height, but he does find it endearing

- he’ll never see it as a point of weakness

- if he ever finds you struggling to reach something or down in the dumps about clothes not fitting you right because of your smaller proportions, he’s always right there to lift your chin back up and remind you of the wonderful person you are, that your stature holds no sway over how brilliant you are, especially not to him

“Some of the most mighty species in all the galaxies are the smallest ones you’ll find, some don't even have physical bodies big enough to detect with the human eye! Each and every one is perfectly unique in their own way, and you are no different. The stars you’ve seen in the night skies all your life, are they any less magical for appearing so small?”

“No…”

“Exactly! And, you know, the more humans I meet, the more I realize how similar you are to Time Lords.”

“In what way?”

- and then he’s grinning down at you, all giddy about getting to use the line he loves hearing more than any other

“You’re all so much bigger on the inside.”

- will make a joke about your height to test the water

- if your reaction tells him you’re not okay with it, he’ll feel guilty for the rest of eternity and never do it again

- but if you laugh with him or roll your eyes with a smile, he’ll grin like he’s accomplished something great, cracked some impossible code, and he will wear that like a badge of honor

- regardless of the fact you’ve made it clear he is allowed to make fun of your height, if anyone else does it in front of him, he doesn't like it

“Well, surely the smallest one should be sent in first, their loss would be the least noticeable!”

- and the Doctor is straight up, clapping his hands together and pointing in all directions as he lays out the plan of action very clearly to all involved, ending it by pointing at the man who dared make fun of you

“Now, you. From what I gather, jokes are supposed to be funny- supposed to land laughs with the nearest crowd; clearly you missed that memo, but that’s fine. Depending on (Y/N)’s reaction to your poor excuse for a joke, I’ve got a snowglobe with a blackhole suspended within it that I think you’d fit just perfectly in. (Y/N)?”

- the man looks terrified, and you try your best to refrain from laughing at him as you raise an eyebrow in dramatic silence

“Jury’s still out, see if he survives this first.”

the Doctor claps his hands again. “Cool! I’m never saying that again, but it would be very uncool of me to have to trap you inside a snowglobe that would tear you atom from atom in a continuous, brutal cycle, so consider that a warning.”

- takes the ABSOLUTE piss, don't ever think he won't

- will 110% pretend he can't see you and stare right over your head

- will 1000% make up short-based nicknames all the time

“Hello there, Short Round.”

“Really showing your age with that one.”

“Oh, what was that? A tiny and insignificant mouse, or perhaps it was the wind, arguing with me?”

- you’d think in all his whimsical, magical, time-travelling glory with his constant bustling about and his mind going a mile a minute in the most erratic fashion possible, he wouldn't notice your height, let alone find the time to make a joke in literally any setting, but oh boy, does he

“Is everyone clear on their roles in my carefully laid out plan, because I know that the accent can be difficult, but if I have to explain it again I think I’d rather do everything myself and you can all sit here with (Y/N) and applaud me when I get back.”

“Wait, sit here with me? Why aren't I coming with you?!”

“Because you’re-”

- he gestures to you with his hands, up and down, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you’re sighing because you already know what he’s referring to

“What does my height have to do with anything?!”

“You’re all compact, like a foldable deckchair or one of those raincoats that turns into a conveniently sized pouch. It’s frankly distracting and my pockets are full so you cant sit in any of them.”

- he never laughs at his own jokes but sometimes he makes you WHEEZE with the inventive short jokes he comes up with

- similarly to Nine, though, he also can't help viewing you as more breakable, not only because you’re a human, but a very short one, too

- despite him completely understanding the biology of humans, he is convinced that a papercut on you is the same as an average-sized person getting stabbed

- so yes, he takes the piss at absolutely every chance he gets, but if he sees someone else trip you up by accident or hand you a piece of paper and it cuts your finger in the most barely noticeable way, he will be a GRUMP

- consider the paper in your hands stolen, read very passive aggressively, then scrunched up into a ball, possibly chewed or ripped apart or even thrown on the floor and stamped on

- consider the person who accidentally hurt you the subject of his rage until they are out of his sight. every time they speak, they’re met with a “Shut it!”

- and you’re like “Doctor, there’s really no need-”

“That IMBECILE tripped you up approximately 3 AND A HALF HOURS AGO, and you think I’m overreacting? You could have DIED!”

- such a drama queen

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #tenth doctor #10th doctor #x reader #eleventh doctor #11th doctor #ninth doctor #9th doctor #12th doctor #twelfth doctor #the doctor x reader #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon #headcannons

[lolahasmoxie]

you don't need to say anything (j.t)

I finally finished Ted Lasso this summer, and oh man, was I not prepared to fall in love with Jamie Tartt. This takes place after S2E8 Man City.

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Physio Reader

Length:

Warnings: mentions of child abuse, but there is comfort. I just want to hug our little Mancunian bean.

You sighed heavily as you approached the bus idling in the stadium parking lot. You were trying to erase the images from your mind of Jamie striking his father and his father ready to knock his own son's teeth out in return. You see Roy by the door, arms crossed across his chest.

"Oy," his gruff voice called out to you.

"Sorry," you offer an apology. "Had to make sure that we have all our medical equipment."

"Tartt's not here," Roy says curtly.

"What do you mean he's not here?"

"I mean," he says as he steps closer to you. "we're at the bus, and Jamie is fucking not."

"Shit," you reply as you sigh again.

"Isaac said he last saw him in the locker room." He gives you a look, waiting for you to put the pieces together.

"Why can't you do it?"

"Because I'm not the one he has fucking heart eyes over." You immediately cringe, not only at the implication that he knows you have a soft spot for Jamie but that his volume has alerted the entire bus to that fact.

"Don't tease." You say quietly, and Roy's expression softens slightly.

"Just go find him so we can get the fuck home." You give Roy the finger as you head back inside Wembley. You flash your badge to an older gentleman, telling him you forgot a bag. He smiles at you as he waves you inside. There's another sigh as you think about the man you're being sent to retrieve.

When you had come to Richmond with Ted and Beard, you and Jamie had hated each other on sight. He was a massive prick to everyone, and when he came in for treatments, it wasn't unusual for you to go harder than you needed to just because you could.

There may have been a moment after the bonfire to clear the hex from the treatment room. You had wanted it to be a moment, but there was never a chance to explore it further because Jamie was sent back to Manchester the next day without a word to you.

Then, just as quickly, he was back. You had steeled yourself for his cruel tongue and prickish attitude, but when he found you in the med room, the first words out of his mouth were an apology. And it was a real one, too. You had just stood there stunned before you could speak. After that, you couldn't help but fall for him more each day.

You stood outside the locker room doors, taking a deep breath before opening the door and poking your head inside. There Jamie sat, elbows on his knees, head resting in his hands. He had changed into sweats, his Gucci slides on his feet. You knocked gently, watching as his head popped up. You try to ignore the short flash of fear in his eyes before he realizes it is only you.

"Roy sent me," He nodded, and when he didn't speak, you quietly walked into the empty room. "You alright?"

"No," he says shortly, avoiding your eye contact. "You know what's funny? As a kid, I only wanted my dad to be there. All my friends had a dad; why couldn't mine be there? Then, when I got good, he showed up. Then I wondered why couldn't he be like the other dads." You said nothing; just sat next to him while he sniffled quietly.

"I really don't know what to say to you," you admit honestly. "I'm just sorry that you had to go through that." Jamie nods before his lip begins to quiver anew. You didn't hesitate to guide him to you, and Jamie didn't hesitate to follow. Your torsos twist as you let him hug you, his arms around your waist as he buries his face into your neck. Your arms wind around his neck, and one of your hands rests in his walnut mist hair.

His body, which feels so solid in your hold, eventually relaxes and melts into yours. His tears are wet against your skin, his hands balling your shirt into his fists as he tries to make sense of the evening. He's holding you like you're a lifeline, and you let him because he deserves one, after all. Eventually, his tears slow, and his hold loosens ever so slightly.

Your heart nearly stops when he pulls back to look at you, gray eyes searching your own as he studies you before he leans in and gently rests his forehead against yours, a content sigh leaving his lips. Your hand caresses his cheek of its own accord, and when your thumb grazes over his cheek, you can swear that he begins to purr in contentment.

"We should probably go, right?"

"That or Roy will send out a search party." You have a slight smile when you stand to face Jamie. "C'mon, we'll be home soon."

It could be your mind playing tricks, but you could swear that Jamie's eyes light up when reach out a hand, and it takes a heartbeat before he's taking it with his own. You try to focus on something other than how well your hand fits into his.

When you approach the bus Roy of course, says it's about fucking time. But there's no real anger there. He pats Jamie on the shoulder as you both climb aboard, and it's then that you notice that Dani and Isaac, whom you and Jamie had respectively sat with on the way to Wembley, are now sitting together. Which conveniently leaves two unoccupied seats at the back of the bus.

The bus is quiet; most of the lads are either asleep or listening to music. When you pass Ted and Beard, they both give you a knowing look, and it's then that you realize that Jamie is still holding your hand. He pulls you to the back and offers you the window seat. He takes just a moment to make himself comfortable before he rests his head on your shoulder and takes your hand in his.

"You know," he begins softly as the bus pulls out of the stadium. "I may be reading this whole situation wrong, but would you want to come over? For sleep," he adds quickly. "I just can't stomach being alone tonight."

You imagined this scenario in many ways as you ran a thumb over the back of Jaime's hand. You were pleasantly surprised that this was better than anything your mind had previously conjured.

"Sleep," you say as you bring his hand up to your lips to kiss his knuckles. "Sleep, and we'll talk in the morning." When you turn to look at Jamie, he has a blush on his cheeks and a smile that could light up London. There's a quick kiss on your forehead before he places his head back on your shoulder, shuffling to make himself more comfortable as the bus merges on the highway to take you home.

You both are asleep within minutes, not hearing the hushed giggles of the team or the sound of phone cameras clicking as they revel in the fact that you two are finally on the verge of becoming something. Dani, in particular, can't help but smile fondly at the picture he's taken, noting how your bodies are turned towards each other with mirrored expressions of contentment. He will wait until tomorrow to send it to Jamie. After all, it would be a shame to wake you both right now.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n

[bonniepop]

character: sawamura daichi words: 1,100+ warnings: nsfw; mdni. reader has depression. angst and comfort. notes: i was looking through my old fic and found this and it made me cry wtf is wrong with me

—

you had a particularly bad day today.

it feels dumb to keep carrying the weight of that as you went over to your fiancé’s, to your safe place, but the regret and disappointment and the angry voice in your head that’s been mean to you all day are making your skin crawl. this isn’t the first time you’ve turned to daichi for comfort, but it’s the first time that you feel like it's a waste of his time, like you don’t deserve it.

but still, you want to hear it. you want him to tell you that you’re so good for him, so beautiful, that you’re made for him and him alone. how your body is the most perfect thing in the world for him, how he can't stop himself from touching you, from finding pleasure with you, how he wants you so much he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

but you can’t. you don’t know what it is, but you can't—your body feels stiff and icky and gross, and the words that spill out of daichi’s mouth feel like lies.

his cock feels so good when he slides into you, hitting the spot inside of you that makes you want to grip the sheets and keen, when his hips sink down to meet yours.

but the feeling in your chest is ugly and gross, and your stomach feels like it's going to turn inside out. it's turning something beautiful into something terrifying and disgusting, you realize that you can’t do this. not right now.

“b-badge,” you force yourself to mutter—the safe word you’d chosen—but it comes out weak and soft and pathetic. you don’t know if you can take any more, if you can—

he can't hear you over the sound of his own pleasure. “i can't—fucking—agh,” he grunts, hips slamming into yours, and it feels so good, but you feel so sick.

“badge,” you say a little louder, voice a little thicker, and the hands gripping your wrists almost instantly loosen, the heavy weight hovering above you pulling away. daichi takes his warmth with him, and you feel empty and unwanted.

the look on daichi’s face, earlier a haze of lust and desire, has been replaced by confused yet nervous fear, and god. you hate yourself for this.

you hate yourself.

“are you okay, baby?” he asks, concerned. his voice is deep and raspy, and you don’t know how and why it makes you hate yourself even more. “did i hurt you?”

words don’t come out, but tears spill out of your eyes. you gently shove his shoulder—he gently pulls out of you—and you curl unto your side.

with heavy breaths, he leaves the bed, and you can hear him get a washcloth from your shared bathroom. he runs it under the tap for a bit before twisting the knob closed, and you hear his footfalls as he returns to you. he sits by your back and places a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“come on, sweetheart,” he murmurs gently, rubbing your arm. “i know you’ll feel better when you’re a little cleaner. up, up.”

you don't fight back. you acquiesce with a shaky breath, letting him pull you up. he gently runs the cloth over your arms, shoulders, and neck, through your torso with soft strokes of the damp fabric. you say nothing when he pulls you close, and you settle into his lap, bare skin against skin. your arms tentatively wrap around him, and you press your face against his shoulder.

you ready your apologize with a pitifully small voice. “i’m sor—”

“i’m sorry,” daichi says softly before you can finish, pausing in running the cloth over your back. “i… i should’ve been able to tell that—should’ve known that this was the last thing you needed. but i didn’t. i was selfish, and i’m sorry.”

you curl around him tighter. “it's not your fault."

"it's not yours, either," he tells you gently.

you shake your head, hair curling against his skin. "i was being dumb.”

“hey,” he says with a frown, pushing you away to tilt your face up. your wet eyes meet his. “you’re not that.”

you can’t help your sobs and fall into him, and he tosses the washcloth aside to take you in his arms. he maneuvers you to the bed, and you cry against him.

“i don’t know why,” you wail in anguish. “i don’t why i’m like this!”

daichi lets you cry against his collar, stroking your hair as he listens, face turned to the ceiling.

“you’re amazing and wonderful, daichi, and i’m just—i’m just no one, and i don’t deserve you, but i'm ugly and gross and selfish because i don’t want to ever, ever let you go,” you sob.

he closes his eyes and his chest aches. he wants to get rid of this, he does, but he knows he’s powerless against the mean voice in your head, waiting in the dark corners of your mind that he can’t reach.

you huddle closer into his chest when he turns to wrap his arms around you and pull you close. ���i’m so sorry,” you cry, “you don’t deserve this. you don’t deserve someone—someone like me.”

“that’s not true,” he murmurs against your hair, but he knows you can’t hear it through your pained sobs.

it takes a while, but your cries die down, and all that’s left is your puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. you hiccup and sniffle and push yourself away, and daichi lets you.

you sit up and look down at your lap, taking deep breaths, staring at the glinting engagement ring on your hand. unbidden, the voice in your head asks, he regrets asking you, doesn’t he?

the bed creaks when daichi sits up next to you, reaching over your lap to take one of your hands in his.

it's a while before he speaks. “our hands look good together, huh?” he mumbles over your shoulder. you hiccup out a laugh, watching his fingers trail over your palm. he threads them together with yours, and he gives your hand a soft squeeze.

“i wish i knew what to say,” he tells you honestly, his voice near your ear and the warm of his chest pressed to your back. “i wish i knew what to say to keep that voice in your head quiet. i wish... i wish i could protect you from it. i wish i could hear them first, before you do, so i could take them away and hide them from you so you'll never have to be hurt by them ever again.”

he kisses your shoulder. “you’re the most important person in the world to me,” he murmurs against your skin, and your eyes slide shut before the heat behind them turns into water. “i love you with everything that i have. and in this moment, i want you to know that that’s the truth."

you sniffle, not saying anything.

“if i could get rid of this feeling for you every time, i would,” he continues. “i would do anything to make you happy. but i can’t. and i hate that i can’t. i can't do a lot of things because i'm just human and all i can do is love you and tell you over and over again. i love you, i love you, i love you," he says, punctuating each declaration of love with a kiss on your skin.

"i love you, too," you say, voice broken.

"i don't think i could ever stop," he admits with a shaky breath. "i don't want to stop. but when you apologize for being with me, it... it destroys me.

"please,” he says, almost begs, “please never apologize for being with me.”

you can’t help the sob that escapes you.

he lets go of your hand to tilt your face towards his. “we chose each other,” he reminds you, eyes shiny with unshed tears. “and i’ll choose you every time. no matter what anyone says. not even you.”

you shakily grasp his hand and lean up to kiss him, tears trailing down your cheeks once more. he grips your face in his hands and presses into you, and you’re falling against the bed in a haze of love and comfort and sadness and warmth.

you both pull away and you huddle against daichi’s side, hand on his warm chest. his arm is wrapped around your waist, his lips pressed against your hairline.

“i love you,” he whispers earnestly into your hair, and your heart swells, the beating of it ringing louder than the hatred in your mind. “i hope that… i hope it’s enough, even if it's just for today.”

your eyes drift shut and your body sinks closer to him. the voice in your head is much quieter now, almost nonexistent.

he kisses your forehead and pulls you closer.

#hq smut #haikyuu smut #daichi smut #hq x reader smut #daichi x reader #hq x reader #x reader smut #x reader #📝 — my writing #🍋 — my smut #sawamura daichi #daichi sawamura