#It's one of the power suits that I'm very excited to see
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FLYING SQUIRREL POWER SUIT FLYING SQUIRREL POWER SUIT RAAAAHHHH
There are many species of animals that can appear in season seven ( or future seasons ) . The image was taken from the Wild Kratts wiki : https://wildkratts.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000000113678/r/4400000000000456785
and the original font of the images was skylairdusk0621 tiktok user ( i I couldn' find their account )
#wild kratts#martin kratt#chris kratt#kratt brothers#wild kratts news#wk season 7#It's one of the power suits that I'm very excited to see
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Bleed - the salesman x fem!reader
Chapter 2
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/1bafd2b6e6d8b99f07dd85fbb1092f77/b9636293f8578008-82/s540x810/24f78c25fd58032a8317452643b070da0bb0fe72.jpg)
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"What can I say?" His mouth curls into a soulless smile. "I like watching girls bleed."
summary - days after your first encounter, the two of you meet again, exactly as promised. This time, he’s eager for you to get to know him better. You play a game of two truths and a lie - with a twist: for every lie you miss, he gets to make you bleed.
tags - knifeplay, age gap, praise kink, degradation kink, blood as lube, bdsm, non-con, sadomasochism, sub!reader, dom!salesman, creampie, unprotected sex
a/n - thanks for the love on part 1! This is one of my first times writing nsfw stuff so I’m so grateful for the positive feedback :))
Series masterlist
4.3k words
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The days leading up to Friday were painfully slow. Your mind was plagued by thoughts of him, mostly denial about the entire situation. You were conflicted. The memory of him, so tall and utterly imposing - it sometimes made your heart skip, sometimes made it sink. You got the feeling you were only seeing a small part of him, a sample of his entire character. It filled you with dread. And excitement.
Friday came and there was no sign of him. You spent your whole day twiddling your thumbs and glancing out windows, searching for any sign of him. Occasionally, you would see a man in a suit walking past, and frantically stand up to see if it was him. But it was never him. You had memorised the curve of his back after nights of reminiscing, the exact slope of his jaw. It was ironic, really: with this information you could easily go to the police and explain the situation. You never did, though, and he must have known you wouldn't. That card - incredibly incriminating evidence, really - was just another symbol of the power he held over you.
On the way home, the reality of the situation becomes very real indeed. If you ran away, would he know where to find you? If you stayed at a friend's place for the night, or even in a hotel, would he seek you out? No. You aren't the sort of person to back out of something. Not now you're so close to finding out who this man really is.
You knock on the door of your apartment, expecting one of your parents to let you in. Usually, it stays locked during the day. But when you bring your hand to the door, it opens at your touch. You glance around. Then, step inside. The entire apartment is dark, every shutter closed and every light off. You don't turn them on, too afraid of what you might find if you do. Carefully, you search the place, trying to make your footsteps as silent as possible. But there's no sign of your parents.
Finally, you open your mouth to call their names. From behind, a hand claps over your face, muffling your voice. Your eyes widen in realisation, and you grab at the hand, attempting to pull it off. You recognise the smell of him. Something musky and expensive, though slightly metallic. The smell brings you to your senses, and your adrenaline kicks in. You scream against his hand, scratching at his fingers and kicking out your legs in an attempt to break free from his hold. He doesn't waver, just pulls another arm around you, holding you even firmer in place than before.
Eventually, you grow tired, and decide to do something you don't really want to. You bite his hand as hard as you can. He makes a pained noise and rips his hand away, staggering backwards. You jump forward, away from his hold, then turn to face him. He holds the wrist of his injured hand, studying it with a frustrated expression. When he looks up at you, eyes burning, fear sinks in.
You step backwards, anticipating his response. "I'm- I'm sorry, I didn't know-"
"Now, now," he shakes his head, a false smile on his face, "what did you do that for, sweetheart?"
You blink frantically, assessing your options. The only way out is the door, and in order to escape you would have to pass him, but he could grab you with ease. After a moment, he decides for you. He moves towards you, gripping your upper arm and wrenching your body toward him. His fingers easily curl around your entire arm. Your head rushes with regret. An assault like that can't go unpunished with him. You know it.
He pulls you through your own apartment and into the dining room, an action which indicates he already knows his way around. He pulls out a chair at the head of the table and pushes you into it. He wastes no time. Already set on the table are coils of binding; he grabs them and instantly starts tying your ankles. He then pulls your arms behind you with painful force, binding your wrists.
"I was really hoping we wouldn't have to do this," he says bitterly whilst tying the ropes.
"How did you get in here?" You ask him, tears thick in your throat. "Where are my parents?"
"Questions I can answer later. Be patient," he stands back once he finishes, and dusts off his hands like an artist that has just finished a project.
"Please-" you begin to say, but he cuts you off with a palm raised in the air. A ring of purple, angry teeth marks are imbedded in his skin.
"You talk far too much. Do I have to keep you quiet?" He lowers his hand carefully.
You press your lips together and shake your head frantically. That would only make the situation worse. He smiles approvingly, then lowers himself to his haunches, studying you from head to toe in a clinical manner. You feel scrutinised under his cold gaze.
"Need I remind you," he stands up, "you called me. I come here out of my own kindness, and this is how I am repaid?" He raises his hand again, showing the teeth marks. Then, he tuts and shakes his head as though he is greatly disappointed.
"I said I'm sorry," you watch him carefully, fighting back tears. His level voice seems more terrifying to you than any sort of outright aggression. When he is in control, he knows just how to make you scream.
He leans back against the wall and folds his arms. "I had something else planned for this little rendezvous, but I'm not sure it will suffice after that outburst. Something else, I think."
You watch him ponder. Everything about him is still a mystery to you. Why did he choose you? There are so many other girls. You scan him from head to toe, almost sizing him up. He wears a different suit this time: dark navy and paired with a black tie. His shoes are perfectly polished, and his hair is slicked back into its usual style. Memories of him rush past, flushed and sweating after practically violating you. That was someone else. You wonder if you will meet that man again tonight.
He seems to decide on something. "Well, I know so much about you, but you know nothing about me. It seems unfair, don't you think?"
"Everything about this seems unfair," you say bitterly, pulling at your ropes for effect.
"You're right, of course. But that's just the dynamic you'll have to get used to, sweetheart," his lips curl as he says the word. Nothing about him is sweet.
You eye him as he moves toward you and pulls out a chair. He sets it opposite you, closer than he was sitting last time. You instinctively shrink backwards as he lowers himself into the chair, leaning his elbows on his knees so he can be level with your eyes. "I have a proposition."
"What is it?" You say quietly, searching his eyes. Nothing.
"A game," his eye sparkles.
"Another one?" You whisper, breaking eye contact.
"Don't worry," he leans backwards, smirking, "no guns involved this time."
"How lucky for me," you say through gritted teeth.
"You're a very lucky girl," he smiles. "Something else - you probably played it in school."
You struggled to think of a school game that involved being tied down to a chair. "Peekaboo?"
"Funny," he doesn't laugh, "no, not that." He holds up two hands. On one hand, he raises his index finger, and on the other, he raises two more fingers. "Any guesses?"
You watch the gesture, thinking. Then it comes to you. "Two truths and a lie?"
His mouth breaks into a wide smile. "Good girl."
"But that's not fair," you say, voice raised, "I don't know anything about you! How am I supposed to win?"
"I'll make it easy for you," he clasps his hands together like a games-master on a TV show. "Round one, are you ready?"
You nod.
"Your parents are dead. Your parents are alive. Or your parents are in this apartment, right now."
Your eyes fly open. The mention of them was completely unexpected. You feel your heart rate pick up as you think of an answer. You so desperately want them to be alive - but would he even say it if they were? You decide to go for the most simple option: after all, you searched the whole place and saw no sign of them.
"You're lying. They aren't in this apartment." You say stoically, meeting his eyes.
He smirks. "Correct. So, dead or alive?"
"That's not how you play. I already found the lie-"
He darts out a hand and grips your thigh, making you cry out. "In case you haven't noticed," he squeezes your leg, "I don't play by the rules. Answer me."
Tears make your vision blurry. "They're alive," you choke, nearly sobbing, "that's the lie."
He pauses for a moment, not letting go of your thigh. "Incorrect."
"So they are alive? Oh-"
"You were wrong. You know what that means?" He dips a hand into his blazer pocket, pulling something out. You squint into the darkness, then freeze when you realise what it is.
"Oh god, no-" your whole body begins to tremble.
"Shh," he brings the blade towards your inner thigh, the metal reflecting your smooth skin, "if you try to win, this won't have to happen."
"I didn't know! You tricked me!" You whimper as he pushes back the material of your skirt and brings the blade to your thigh. There was no way for you to win that round, and he knows it. Once again, he uses you as a tool to show his own deception. He can’t be trusted.
"I'm shocked at how cruel you think I am," he says with fake surprise.
He presses the blade to your skin and you scream a bloodcurdling noise. Red-hot pain seeps from your thigh as he draws a deep line in your skin. You thrash around in the chair, but it only makes the pain worse. He makes a tutting noise, the noise an adult might make when a child falls and grazes their knee. When he raises the blade again, you look down to see a dripping line, like a crimson tally mark. One.
Your chest heaves as you try to console the pain. He pulls a cloth from his breast pocket and wipes the knife with one swipe. You meet his eyes and find that familiar mist clouding them again. He's finally hurt you now, and the cracks are beginning to show.
"Now you know the punishment for failure," he sets the blade on the table, raising his chin with a superior expression.
"I'm sorry- it hurts-" the words tumble from your mouth before you can stop them. You are only aware of the pain flooding your thigh. How deep did he go?
"I've barely touched you," he tilts his head, moving your thigh to assess the injury. "You're so fragile."
You just stare at him, chewing your lip in an attempt to distract from the pain.
He smirks. "Round two, are you ready?"
You hold eye contact, hoping he can see the utter hatred in your eyes. Like it would make any difference. He takes your silence as a sign to continue, and leans back, thinking. "I work as a messenger. I work in an office. Or I am a mass murderer. Which is the lie?" He says it with an amused smirk on his face, as though he already knows what you are going to pick.
You console yourself and try to think of an answer. Judging by his smug expression, he said must have said the last one as a joke - though, you wouldn't put it past him. "The last one. It's a lie."
His smile falls. His expression turns dark. "Wrong. Again."
Realisation falls on you like a ton of bricks. Slowly, as if it pains him to do so, he grabs the knife off the table. You scream again, tears falling too fast for you to stop them. You pull at the ropes, arching your entire body to escape his grasp, managing to shuffle the chair a few inches. It doesn't help. He grabs the bottom of the chair and wrenches you forwards with one hand, close enough that his knee is planted firmly between your legs.
"The more you scream, the deeper I go." He says, lip curling and his voice husky. You watch helplessly as he brings the blade back down, holding your legs back with his knee. The knife, now stained with the product of your failure, meets your skin. The pain is easier to handle this time, though still just as awful as before. Another thick, seeping line beside the last. Two marks. Two losses.
You hang your head, body heaving with sobs. He makes that same pitying noise, using one finger to lift your chin. You watch him through your eyelashes as he brings the blade to his mouth, running his tongue along the flat edge. Your blood stains his mouth and drips from his tongue. He makes a small, pleased noise, then sets the blade back down, now clean.
Unmistakable arousal clouds his eyes. You're really giving him a show this time. He leans back in his chair, adjusting his trousers. "You're on a bit of a losing streak, aren't you?" His voice is breathy as he rakes his eyes from your wounds to your face, savouring every inch.
"What is it, huh?" You speak up, voice broken. "What's your angle? Why are you doing this?" Desperation seeps into your words and you search his face for any sign of remorse.
"What can I say?" His mouth curls into a soulless smile. "I like watching girls bleed."
Your mouth falls open. Hopelessness overwhelms you. There it is. The confession. If he doesn't kill you tonight, he will leave you a bloody mess on this chair, alone and stained and scarred.
The game resumes for several rounds more. Each loss is marked with another line, and you feel yourself growing more distant with every tally mark. His dick pushes harder against his trousers every time he makes you bleed or scream, reminding you of your last meeting. He held out that time, however, and seemed satisfied just by making you cum. But not this time. You knew something was different.
By your fifth loss, he strikes a final line across your thigh, and you feel yourself getting faint. Blood pools on the seat of your chair, dripping from your leg so thickly you can barely distinguish the individual lines. His breath picks up, mouth open wide as you scream once more, leg trembling.
"Fuck it," he grunts. Suddenly, he rips off his blazer and throws it onto the table. It slides away to the other end, and you watch him, terrified at every movement he makes and his plan for you.
It's not what you expect. He bends down, ripping away the binding at your ankles so roughly that it hurts. Then, he moves behind you and tears off the rope at your wrists, too. You freeze for a moment, registering your freedom. You attempt to move, but wince when the pain in your leg overwhelms you. Instead, you rub your wrists, marvelling at the ring of purple bruises on each arm.
He moves back toward his chair, breath fast and heavy, then grabs your waist. He lifts you with ease. You cry out as he hooks two hands beneath your knees and pulls your legs around his torso. Scared that you might fall, you wrap your arms around his neck, holding on. He falls back into his chair and you realise the purpose of his hold on you. Your legs straddle his hips, and blood flows from your thigh to stain the fabric of his trousers.
"Fuck," he swear again, looking down at the mess. He releases his hold on you to unbutton his trousers, ripping down his zip quicker than you can see. You whimper, knowing what is to come. The pressure of your leg on his makes the pain worse and the room begins to spin.
You watch helplessly, loosening your grasp on him. His cock springs from his trousers, already hard and dripping with precum. Veins span from the base to his swollen tip. "Look what you've done," he tuts, watching the blood from your leg stain his hands. "Look at the mess you've made."
You sob quietly and watch as he runs a hand down his cock, painting it with your blood. You make a strangled noise when he swipes a finger over the deep slashes on your thigh. He sucks in his breath sharply. "I need to fuck you." He mumbles it so quietly you almost don't hear.
Your head falls back as he lifts you up, lining up his cock with your entrance. He moves your panties aside with one finger, already wet with your own arousal. More and more blood drips onto him and he grunts, gasping slightly as he eases himself inside you. You cry out at the size of him. He's bigger than the gun. Much bigger. He's barely inside you, but the blood on his cock makes it easier for him to slip inside.
"You're so tight," he grunts, gripping your waist with one hand and your thigh with the other. He's barely halfway inside you before he pulls out and rams himself back into you, using the hand on your waist to lift you up. You have no choice but to take him. Your walls tighten around him, and you squeeze your legs together, trying your hardest to fight the discomfort.
Tears fall from your eyes. Your senses are heightened in your last moments of clarity - you feel like you might faint. Somehow, the blood keeps pouring, turning his suit trousers black.
"Don't you dare fucking pass out," he says, gritting his teeth. He squeezes your thigh and you cry out, the pain too much to bear. Your body feels weak.
Still, he fucks you harder, slamming his cock inside you with every thrust. Somehow he goes deeper until you're sure he must be hitting some vital organ. You've never been fucked like this before. You almost forget the pain he just caused you as you buck your hips against him, desperate to take him even deeper.
"Such a whore. You want it, huh?" He squeezes your ass, lifting you so that you bounce on his lap. Pleasure builds in you, a jarring contrast to the utter agony you felt almost moments ago.
His head falls back hangs off the chair as he thrusts in and out of you. You lift a hand to his face, desperate for something to hold onto, not noticing your fingers are still marked with your own blood. He sees and grips your wrist, sticking a finger into his mouth. He sucks them clean.
"You taste even better than you look," he smirks. He can't hold the expression for long. His eyes roll back slightly when you move your hips over him, making wide circles. You press a hand to his chest, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, and he lets you keep your grip there, too distracted by the hypnotic movements of your hips. You notice that blood drips from the corner of his mouth, instinctively, you lean in and swipe it off with your tongue. He chuckles darkly.
"You're forgetting yourself," he says, slowing his pace. You make a desperate whimper, raising your hips again to continue the rhythm.
"I'm going to need more motivation than that," he mumbles, bringing his mouth to your collarbone. You slow down, unsure of his intentions.
Still inside you, he parts his lips and sucks at the skin of your neck. He applies intense pressure, sending shocks through your body and you cry out, dropping your head over his shoulder.
"That's it," he says, laughing breathily into your ear.
He doesn't stop despite the fact you wince away from him. He plants firm, harsh marks along your neck, leaving a dark line of bruises to your collarbone. Every time you make a noise, he presses harder, until you're biting your lip just to suppress your whimpers. Then, once he's satisfied, he plants two hands on each thigh, ramming his cock back into you. He grunts loudly with every thrust.
He's rougher this time. The flow of blood slows, but still makes his cock glisten red as he pumps in and out of you. The sound of your skin slapping together fills the room, along with his grunts and your faint whimpers. His increase in pace makes the warmth in your stomach more intense, and you feel yourself on the brink of release. You arch your back, gripping onto his shoulder to keep yourself steady.
He notices you nearing your orgasm and uses his last burst of energy to make you ride him even harder. His hips buck up and down until his cock fills you entirely. You grip onto his tie, finally reaching your climax. You nearly scream as you cum with him still inside you, intense warmth and euphoria rushing through your entire body. He does the same, gasping for breath as he cums inside you, still bouncing your ass on his lap whilst you ride it out.
Your entire body goes limp. You collapse over him, taking in lungfuls of air. The euphoria is quickly replaced by exhaustion and pain. Your entire leg feels sore despite the blood no longer flowing as freely as it did before. He slows to a stop, then pulls his cock out of you. It's still stained red and dripping with his cum, and he grunts at the sight of your cunt, glistening with your own blood and his cum. He has complete control of you now.
"You're fucking crazy," he says, panting. He swipes two fingers over the wounds on your thigh, making you wince as he wipes the last of the blood away. He leans back for a moment as he comes down from his high, pressing a hand to his forehead. Strands of black hair fall over his eyes, damp with sweat.
"Let's take care of these cuts, shall we?" He says, too gently for it to be genuine. He lifts you up, straddling each leg on his waist. He lowers you onto the table, letting your legs dangle over the edge.
He makes a gesture that suggests he will be right back, and leaves the room in the direction of your bathroom. His clear knowledge of the layout of your home is concerning, but you can't find the energy to care. You close your eyes, letting your head hang, trying to suppress the dull thudding pain in your leg.
He returns after a few minutes, holding a medical kit and looking a lot more composed. The lusting look in his eyes has disappeared, replaced by emptiness, and his tie - which you managed to almost pull off earlier - is centred again. Blood still spatters his shirt, and his hair glistens as though he has dampened it and swept it back. You almost feel flattered that he tries to look so presentable for you.
He moves before you, lowering onto one knee. He kneels between your legs and parts your legs gently. Too gently. You wonder for a moment if you're dreaming. If you passed out back there and this was just some fantasy you invented to console yourself. But no. He opens the box and lifts out some alcohol wipes. Absently, you lay a hand on his head, stirring the dark waves. He doesn't look up. Just brings a wipe to your wounds, wiping away the blood. It stings so badly that you grip his hair as tightly as you can. You feel the urge to cry again.
Before you even register it, he places a large plaster over the wounds and pats the site gently, as if congratulating you. He stands up and plants a soft kiss on your forehead. You don't even meet his eyes. Your vision is cloudy. Exhaustion threatens to overwhelm you, and you're dangerously close to passing out altogether.
You have a faint memory of him lifting you and carrying you to your bedroom. You recall grabbing his arm after he lowered you onto your bed. Then asking, "when will I see you again?"
You couldn't make out his face. His voice was low and gentle. "Call me."
Then he left.
—
You woke up to the sound of the front door opening. Jolting out of bed, you rush to the hallway, hoping against hope. It's your parents. They greet you, smiling, and ask how your day was. You can barely find the words to respond. Your entire body aches, and you nurse the wounds at your neck and wrists to find they're covered by a hoodie you don't remember wearing.
They apologise for leaving and ask if you got their message. You say no. Then you leave in the direction of the dining room to confirm some faint suspicion. The room is completely normal. No blood. No ropes. No knife. Not even a chair is out of place. You press a hand to your forehead.
Later that night, you stare at the plaster on your thigh, the only evidence that the entire situation happened. You peel it back and your head rushes with adrenaline. Five slashes. Still there. You collapse back onto your bed, ignoring the pain that is almost a comfort by now - at least it proves the whole thing was, in fact, real.
Your phone rings. Every normal, human part of you fights back the urge to pick up. But, of course, you do.
The human part of you is long gone by now.
#squid game fanfic#squid game#squid game fandom#the salesman x you#the salesman#the salesman smut#the salesman x reader#the recruiter x reader#the recruiter#the recruiter smut#gong yoo#knifeplay#knife k!nk#tw injury#tw knife#bd/sm kink#age g4p#fanfiction#18+ mdni#smut#squid game smut#seong gi hun#gi hun#in ho#gi hun x in ho
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Don't hide from me || Logan Howlett x Reader
summary: You get hurt on a mission and hide it from Logan. Safe to say he is not happy with you.
warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, talk of violence, blood, and injury
wc: 3k
a/n: Hi guys, tw for pet death but we had to put my childhood dog to sleep today. He was 16 and he had a good life but it's rough. Writing has always helped me so I just sat down and wrote today. I'm always a sucker for this kind of trope and I also have trouble asking for help so this was born. Idk if I like the ending but I always struggle with those so oopsie
This was not how you imagined your first mission to go. You had assumed it would be easy, boring in fact. It was supposed to be boring. Maybe a little fighting here or there but nothing serious.
Well you were sorely mistaken. Your hand puts pressure on your side as you lean against a tree. The rough bark digging into the cuts on your suit. You wince as you look down to see a massive gash right in your stomach.
"Fuck." Your breath is labored as you slowly slide down the tree. You don't heal like some of the other mutants can. In fact your powers were relatively tame compared to others but you were still an asset to the team.
You had been training for months and months. Learning to control your sparks into blasts of energy and manipulate the electricity around you. You had never been more excited to receive your suit. Handed to you by Logan himself after your final training day.
The proud look on his face made your whole body fill with butterflies. Logan had been your biggest help. He was a very distracting teacher though due to the fact that he's your boyfriend too but if anything that made him push you harder.
"Come on sweetheart, you need to do better than that." He says with a smirk. He's barely broken a sweat while you've been giving it a hundred and ten percent.
"Fuck off." You huff as you lay down on the mat. Body exhausted from the hours of training.
"You're getting better. Just need to keep working." He steps over you, bending down and holding out his hand.
"One more time and we're done." He helps you up and kisses your forehead. Walking back to his spot he raises his arms and braces himself.
"Hit me." Taking a deep breath you channel all your power to your fingertips. Feeling the jolts of power start to form. With all your strength you fire right at Logan. To your surprise it hits him square in the chest and sends him flying into the wall.
"Logan!" You run over to him but he's already up by the time you make it. A big smile on his face as he wraps his arms around you. A burst of pride in your chest as he kisses you sweetly.
"I knew you could do it."
It made it even sweeter when you were finally deemed ready to join them. You were ready. You wanted to prove to all of them that you could do it but most of all you wanted to show Logan.
Show him that all his extra training helped and that you were strong and you could do this on your own. He had always shown a slight worry about you joining the team. He says it's because he's worried and protective but a small part of your brain tells you it's because he thinks you can't do it. That you're not ready.
So this. Well it almost felt embarrassing. The mission was nothing new to the rest of the team but to you it was overwhelming. Fighting with everything you had and sometimes it felt like it wasn’t enough. You took out soldier after soldier but they kept coming. But you were fine. You never asked for backup. Convincing yourself that you could do this. Thinking back to all your long days in the simulation and wiping away any doubt that lingered in your head.
Logan had left your side early on much to his reluctance so you were on your own. You were too focused on the guy in front of you that you didn't notice the man sneaking behind you. You cried out in pain as he dug his knife into your side.
Without thinking you blast him far away, taking out the guy in front of you too. Pure adrenaline courses through you as you run to safety. Now you're here, the sounds of fighting still rage on behind you. Blood is seeping onto your hand at a faster rate than normal.
"Okay. Okay. Okay okay." Sorry Professor but you'll fix your suit later. Your sleeve was already torn so you tear the rest as much of it as you can off. Turning it into one long strip of fabric. You unzip the top of your suit to get to the wound. They briefly taught you how to patch up injuries more akin to scratches not stab wounds. You tie the fabric tightly around your waist. You groan as the pressure shoots a sharp pain through your body. The sounds of fighting were dying down.
You know you should tell someone but the last thing you wanted was to be taken off the team after your first mission. You wanted to make them proud. You loved being on the team.
The injury isn't that bad, if you could just make it back to the mansion you would be fine. Patch it up with the right material and then sleep it off. Thank god you and Logan didn't share a room. Fuck. Logan. He was going to kill you but what he didn't know won't hurt him.
Just this once.
Zipping up your suit again you take a few deep breaths to calm yourself. Just make it back to the mansion. You walk as best you can back to the jet. Your limping, favoring your non injured side and it's incredibly obvious. Still you put a smile on your face. The team clocks your ripped sleeve immediately. Logan scowls as you get closer making you shiver. Or maybe that was from the blood loss.
"So how was that for your first mission?" Scott beams as he walks over to you. He slaps his hand onto your shoulder and you wince.
"Good. Is it always like this?" He notices something's off but doesn't say anything. Instead he keeps his hand on your shoulder as he guides you back to the jet.
"You alright Sparks? What happened to your suit." He asks when you get closer.
"Long story, some guy ripped it and when I ran to the forest it got caught and just. tore away." You lie right through your teeth.
"Don't worry we'll fix it when we get back." Ororo smiles and you thank god they bought it. Well almost everyone bought it.
As you head up the ramp you feel a hand on your side. Your whole body tenses as pain shoots through your side. You bite your lip hard to keep yourself from screaming. You recognize the hand as Logan's as his wide chest bumps against your back.
"You alright sweetheart?" He asks, a skeptical look on his face as you wave his hand off.
"Yeah, just really tired." You sigh as you sit in a chair.
Some relief spreads through your body as you subtly press the arm of the chair into your side. Putting more pressure as you feel the blood soak through your makeshift bandage. He narrows his eyes as he inspects you like an animal. Your heart picks up as he places both hands on either arm rest, caging you in as he leans close.
"What are you doing?" You shrink under his intense look. He sniffs and a low growl emits from his throat.
"I smell blood. Somethings wrong." Fuck. He's caught you. The rest of the team starts to file back in.
"Yeah there's blood on everyone's suit, there's blood on you." You mumble as an excuse.
"Down boy, we're taking off so take a seat." Scott says. Logan stays put for just a moment longer before he finally backs off, flipping Scott the middle claw as he takes the seat behind you.
You can feel his eyes burning in the back of your head the whole flight home. You were sweating, body on fire as you focused on your breathing. The pain was getting worse and you wanted to cry for help. But you were determined to prove yourself here.
Your brain wasn't exactly working right either. Too focused on not throwing up to think logically. Finally the jet lands. You're so close. Just a little longer. Logan moves to go right back to your side but gets pulled away. You can vaguely hear him telling someone to fuck off as you stumble out of the jet.
You feel like a zombie as you walk back to your room. Stomach growing sick as you struggle to stay awake. Sweat pours down your face, body screaming for help as you barely make it to your room. Your vision goes in and out. The darkness calling to you as you swing open your door. That sounds nice, you can just close your eyes and sleep. Yeah. Then you can fix yourself up. Your vision goes black. The last thing you remember is someone yelling your name.
-
The first thing you notice when you come back to consciousness is how much your body hurts. The second thing was the hand that was holding yours tightly. Clearly you weren't in your room anymore. This bed is too uncomfortable and it smells too much like antiseptic.
The lab. You were in a hospital bed in the lab which means that someone found you which can only mean that Logan knew and you were in so much trouble. Maybe if you keep your eyes closed you can just go back to sleep. The urge to avoid the consequences of your actions was strong but you knew you couldn't. You lied and now you have to deal with it.
Surprisingly it's dim when you open your eyes. The ugly florescent lighting was off in favor of a few candles and a soft lamp. The hand holding yours twitched, holding you tighter. Looking to your side you see Logan laying his head on the bed. Guilt seeps into your soul when you see him there.
"Glad to see you awake." A soft voice says from the door.
"Jean." You sheepishly say. She flicks on the lights and you squint your eyes at the bright light.
"You're lucky that Logan found you when he did." Her voice is gentle but there's anger hidden behind it.
"I'm sorry. I thought." You sigh and look at Logan who was still sleeping.
"I thought I could handle it. I just wanted to be one of you guys." "You already were one of us, but we're just glad you're okay." She checks your vitals once more in silence.
"Am I in trouble?" You ask nervously.
"Yes." Another voice makes your heart jump, the monitor picking it up with a massive spike.
"Logan honey I-" He holds up his hand and silently asks Jean to leave. She gives you one last smile before leaving the two of you alone.
"Don't. Don't you dare." You shrink into the bed as speaks.
"What the hell were you thinking?"
"I-"
"Hiding a fucking stab wound? For what? Exactly what did you think would happen here!" He raises his voice and you look down in shame.
"You are benched. Permanently." He growls, standing up and storming towards the door.
"What! Logan you can't do that."
"Fuck yes I can. Do you understand how stupid it was for you to hide an injury like that? How irresponsible you were!"
"I thought I could handle it!" The machines near you started to go haywire as you yelled back.
"I thought you were dead!" You go silent as the anger fades, he clenches his fists tightly.
"I smelled the blood and I knew something was wrong. The whole time I knew it. There was a trail of blood to your room and I ran and ran and when I finally got there." He pauses. Not even wanting to say the next thought.
"I'm sorry." You whisper.
You reach out for him but he just stares at you. A painful expression on his face as his eyes zero in on the prominent scar on your side. He shakes his head, turning away and walking out the door.
"Logan please." You beg for him to come back but he doesn't.
The lab is silent and lonely. Jean comes back to check on you, comforting you as you silently cry. All you want is for Logan to come back but he never did.
At least not while you were awake. In the mornings there were traces of Logan. His jacket is left on your bed the one you always steal to cuddle with. Snacks are waiting by your table. Little things to show you had still been there. Just not when you were awake.
It was only a couple days later that you were finally discharged. The Professor had called you to his office, letting you know that you were benched until you had fully recovered and you nodded in understanding. You can feel the stares of the rest of the mansion on you as you walk back to your room.
You've apologized over and over to the team and they welcomed you back with open arms. Begging you to never scare them like that again. Your mind wanders and your feet seem to think on their own as you find yourself in front of Logan's door.
All you want is for him to hold you and to tell you it's okay. Before you can knock on the door it swings open. There he stands in all his glory. He stares at you for a moment before pulling you into a hug. It takes you by surprise but you hug him back tighter. You wince as he pushes a little too hard on your side and he lets go instantly. You don't want to let go, he's been gone for days and you need him.
"I'm here to apologize." You say.
"I'm sorry for not saying anything. I was afraid that you would think I'm weak." It hurts to admit but he needs to know the truth. Asking for help has never been your strong suit.
"That I wasn't strong enough and all I wanted was to prove to you that I could do it. I wanted you to be proud of me." You wait for any response but all he does is look at you. Silently he guides you to his bed. Wrapping a blanket around your shoulders that smells like him.
"When I found you, you weren't moving. There was so much blood. You were barely breathing." He shivers at the memory.
He doesn't think he'll ever get the smell of your blood and the sight of you sprawled out on the ground out of his mind. It's burned there. Every time he closes his eyes he sees it. He ran through the mansion. Begging for help with you in his arms.
They kicked him out once he brought you to the lab. He was close to breaking down the damn doors. He had super strength and a raging healing factor but he'd never felt so powerless before. When they finally let him back in he rushed to the bed. He never left your side. Watching and waiting for you to wake up. Begging you to wake up.
Was this his fault? If he had been by your side would he have been able to help? Or is this just the price of this life. To be a mutant and having to fight just to live. Losing you was not an option but it was becoming a reality he had to accept was possible.
"I'm always proud of you. Doesn't matter what you do. I'm always proud." You tug on his tank top and pull him close.
Kissing him with a soft passion, a desire, an apology. He carefully lowers you down to the bed. He lays you on your side as he deepens the kiss, hand ghosting over the scar as he tangles his limbs with yours.
"I'm so sorry Logan." You bury your head in his chest.
It feels so good to be by his side again. He tilts your head up to look at him. He grows serious as he brushes your cheek gently. You're alive but there's still a horrible worry inside of him. Though he doesn't think that will ever go away. Not as long as he loves you and he's never going to stop doing that.
"Don't ever do something like this again. I'm serious sweetheart, I can't lose you."
"You won't." You can't promise him that. Not at all. Bad things happen to those he loves but he'll be damned if he lets anything happen to you. You yawn and cuddle closer to his side.
"How can I still be so tired after sleeping for so long?"
"You really hurt yourself sweetheart," He glances at your side. Knowing that under the blanket was a scar that would never fade. A constant reminder of his own failure to protect you.
"I'm sorry for leaving," He knows it was a dick move to leave has he had done but he couldn't take it. He was so angry. So afraid.
"Just don't leave me again." You say sleepily. His arms wrap around you, his hand rubbing your back soothingly until you fall asleep. He watches you for a while. Not tired himself but keeping his promise of staying with you.
"I was so scared," He admits to no one but himself.
He rests his chin on your head. The sound of your heartbeat echoes in his ears. The sweet reminder that you're okay. He closes his eyes as the nightmares in his mind return. Seeing your lifeless body. The blood. All of it. He tries to shake them away but the thoughts still linger.
"Please, don't leave me. I love you too much to let you go." He whispers his plea to himself, to you, to whoever is listening.
He kisses the top of your head and you smile in your sleep. The comfort of Logan reaching your dreams. That's good enough for him, as long as you're okay. That's all he needs.
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SLUT! l MV1 imagine
a/n: hey! I’m alive, I hope some of you are alive as well and willing to read something 💘 this is short and just a random idea I had before diving into writing some longer pieces with more plot, but I really hope you like it and as you know, feedback is very very welcome!!! Also I’m sorry if it’s weird or any mistakes bc I wrote this on my phone 💘
Summary: this isn’t your first time being a WAG, but people don’t seem to like the idea of you ending your relationship with Joe Burrow and falling in love with Max.
Looking around, you could tell that this wasn't an ordinary place. The sound of engines revving, the vivid colors of various vehicles, and the hustle and bustle of multiple teams, engineers, sponsors, drivers, and fans walking around the paddock all added to the excitement. It was a truly remarkable sight to behold. The energy was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe taking it all in.
In your previous relationship, your boyfriend would make grand entrances at the stadium, sporting his fancy Cartier sunglasses and jamming to his favorite tunes. He wouldn't pay much attention to the photographers snapping away as he strolled past them, and you'd catch a glimpse of him from afar in a lavish suite. That was quite a contrast to your current situation, which you're still adjusting to.
You were greeted by a well-dressed individual who was sporting the logos of Red Bull, Oracle, and Honda all over their outfit. They handed you a VIP all-access paddock pass which had your name and headshot printed on it, along with details of whose guest you were. To top it off, they also put a Red Bull credential on your wrist. The assistant then guided you towards the power station, where you were hopping to finally catch Max after weeks of not seeing each other.
You never meant to be in this position. You were in a happy, stable, loving relationship, truly. But last year one night in Las Vegas, your boyfriend, Joe, was invited to the Las Vegas Grand Prix, and of course, you both attended, curious and excited about the event. Neither of you knew it would be the beginning of the end.
Your first meeting with Max was captured on camera.
Max and Joe, the reigning Formula 1 champion and the Cincinnati Bengals quarterback together was gold content for the Red Bull socials, and there you were in the back, knowing your place smiling at the interaction, but when you were least expecting it, the champion stretched his hand and introduced himself, catching you and your boyfriend off guard.
As soon as he spoke, I noticed his friendly yet polite tone. "Hi, I'm Max," he introduced himself with a warm smile. His simple gesture of introducing himself made him instantly likable and set him apart from the others in the crowd.
“Hi Max, I’m (y/n). Thanks for the invitation,” you shook the hand that wasn’t holding a can of Red Bull.
“Right. Max, this is my girlfriend. She’s the happiest here because she’s a Red Bull addict,” Joe added, earning a soft laugh from you and a smile from Max.
“Then you came to the right place, (y/n). The mini fridges are all yours, and I’m pretty sure the ones on the second floor have limited editions,”
You thought that was all you were going to see of him, barely catching him after his win to congratulate him, but oh were you wrong, seeing him with a warm gray pull-up hoodie and styled blond hair, sipping gin and tonic and waving his hand as people chanted his name to the tune of a song.
Tu Tu Du Du, Max Verstappen
Or something along those lines.
The moment he recognized you, a sudden rush of excitement and anticipation sent a buzz through your stomach that was impossible to ignore. You felt a mixture of nervousness and elation as he leaned in for a short cheek kiss, the scent of gin lingering on your nose as you briefly noticed the small mole on his upper lip. Despite the presence of your boyfriend standing behind you, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of emotions inside.
“I heard you ransacked the energy station,” A drunk Max Verstappen told you.
“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and at the same time you felt Joe’s arms tight around your waist.
“There weren't any Red Bulls left on the building after you left, maybe I'll have to send a PR package your way,” Max slurred, taking a new sip from his gin and tonic glass.
You couldn’t answer because Joe was faster: “we’ll sure enjoy that, thank you. Wanna go mingle, babe?”
That was almost five months ago as you made your way in sunny Melbourne, doing your best to avoid prying eyes who were aware of the events that took place last November and how you left Joe Burrow the quarterback for Max Verstappen the racing driver.
But it’s not like you wanted to.
After the first box full of sugar free Red Bull arrived with a note, you left a message on his Instagram before posting a story, tagging him and the team.
The he started sending silly memes, followed by the description of the Red Bull ingredients written in Arabic while on Abu Dhabi.
In February, things had reached a point where it was impossible to ignore any longer. You knew it was time to end things with Joe, and when you did, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Suddenly, you were free to do as you pleased, to go where you wanted to go. And so, when Max invited you to go to Bahrain for testing, you jumped at the opportunity.
It was on this trip that you experienced your first date with Max. You both had such a great time together, laughing until your stomachs hurt. You tried your best to hold back your wandering eyes, but you couldn't help noticing the adorable mole on his lip. And then, when the night sky had blanketed the Middle East, he leaned in and kissed you, sending shivers down your spine. It was a magical moment that you would never forget.
But the next day, your first day on the track, a random person recognized you and rumors went crazy, name-calling, attacks, fans carrying signs “What happened with #9”, grown men calling you a bitch, a whore, a gold digger, jumping from one dick to another. It was so much that Max decided to send you to his home in Monaco, not even caring if you were there for the first Grand Prix of the season, he just needed you to be okay.
As you walked towards the energy station, the ground beneath your feet felt firm, yet your steps were hesitant and shy. You were not alone, though, as someone from the team was following your every move, as per Max's orders. The team wanted to ensure that you were safe and secure as you made your way towards the Red Bull hospitality. Once you arrived, a collective sigh of relief was released, and you waited patiently for Max to arrive. The anticipation in the air was palpable as everyone eagerly awaited his arrival.
You vividly remember that moment when he finally arrived at the paddock, dressed in his Red Bull shirt, shorts, and cap, looking so handsome and sporty. You couldn't help but rush towards him, feeling a surge of excitement and joy. As you hugged him tightly, he smiled and hummed softly, clearly enjoying your touch and warmth. You noticed that he was trying to register your scent, perhaps to make the moment even more intimate and memorable.
You knew he was about to lean in for a cheek kiss, but something inside you urged you to do something bolder and more passionate. So, without hesitating, you turned around, making sure his larger frame was facing the outside, away from prying eyes. Then, you carefully grabbed his face with both hands, feeling his strong jawline and stubble under your fingers. You looked deeply into his eyes, savoring the moment, before leaning in and kissing his full lips.
The kiss was electrifying and unexpected, taking him by surprise, but he quickly responded with equal passion and tenderness. You felt his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, as you lost yourself in the blissful moment. It was a moment of pure connection and love, one that you would always treasure in your heart.
Despite being called all sorts of names by people, you refused to let it get to you. You were determined to continue showing your deep admiration and affection for Max, no matter what others thought or said. You believed that your feelings were genuine and authentic, and you were not going to let anyone else's opinion sway you. Despite the challenges and obstacles you faced, your love for Max remained unwavering and waiting to grow bigger.
#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen fic#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen x you#max verstappen au#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen blurb#max verstappen#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fics#f1 fluff#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow x you
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now im curious what yandere hongjoong does for a living hehe also joong gifted hwa legos for his good behavior right? could you write something like yn being jealous bcs joong gifted hwa present and nothing for you?
Alexa, play Will you be my 벗? (8:09 sec) by Ateez -> Wooyoung: bimil~
I'm kidding, but since I'm thinking of writing the fic in series, I want it to be a surprise loll. But it's a job that suits his yandere character very well, you can guess it, right?
And I would like to express my love and gratitude to my dear @matzrionette for helping me find a title🩷
Jealousy Left Unwrapped
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tw: jealousy!, yandere hongjoong, yan!seongjoong x reader
wc: 1540
taglist: @aim-blossom
"Why do you look so sad?" You swear he's doing it on purpose. He does it knowingly to make you jealous and drive you crazy. It doesn't take a genius to understand why you're upset.
"I am not." replied briefly and harshly. Your eyes were also on Seonghwa, who opened the gift package with excitement. "What's that tone of voice? Know your place." Your eye muscles had developed from rolling your eyes at Hongjoong during your stay here. After rolling your eyes at him, you were still hoping that he would give you a gift, too. After all, you were just as good as Hwa, okay you still didn't like Hongjoong but at least you tolerated him. Even this should have been rewarded.
"Joongie! You bought the set I wanted the most! Thank you so much!" Having finished unpacking, Seonghwa jumped on Hongjoong and hugged his neck. Your stomach dropped when Hongjoong said something to him like it was no big deal and kissed his cheek. For a moment, you thought that if Hongjoong was going to expect the same performance from you when he gave you a gift, you'd rather he didn't give a gift at all.
But then you thought again why he bought a gift for him and not for you. Why didn't he buy you anything? You've been behaving really well lately. You didn't try to escape, you were finishing your meals. Sometimes when Hongjoong hugged you, you didn't try to escape from his arms. You even wished him good night yesterday. Why didn't he buy you anything?
Was this jealousy? No way. You weren't crazy enough to be jealous that the man who kidnapped you was buying a gift for his other victim, who was just as crazy as himself, but not buying one for you.
Yes, you agreed. You were jealous. But how can you not be jealous? Hongjoong already had a favorite. His favorite of course, was Hwa, either because they spent more time together, or because he found Hwa and formed a bond with him at the peak of his sick impulses, or because he was a hundred times more loyal to Hongjoong than you. Yes, he loved you obsessively too, but look, he bought the gift for Seonghwa, not you.
Seonghwa looked at you as jealousy flared in your heart, forming a bigger and bigger ball. "Angel look, now we have a set to do together!" He looked very happy. And the fact that he included you in his gift made you feel ashamed of your jealous thoughts. But the problem wasn't Seonghwa, it was Hongjoong.
Of course, Hongjoong knew what he was doing. From time to time, in order to keep your relationship strong, he would give more attention to one of you than the other and ignore the other. This was one of his favorite manipulation tactics. The person who is ignored subconsciously thinks, "I must be as good as them, what can I do to make him love me as much?" he loved injecting this thoughts and seeing the flames of jealousy in both of your eyes. And he would definitely win. When he used this tactic on you, for a few days, without realizing it, you would act closer to Hongjoong, do whatever he said like a puppet, and try to win his love. Of course, you wouldn't do this consciously, but being the favorite person of the person who held power in his hands and the gifts or freedoms he showed you was very tempting.
After fake smiling at Seonghwa, you stood up. "I'm going to my room." As you turned around and went to your room, you heard Seonghwa say 'we were going to start this together, where are you going?' even though you heard his whining, Seonghwa was the last person you wanted to see right now.
You knew what you were doing was childish, but you couldn't help it. While jealousy was flowing through your veins, you were startled by the gentle knock on the room door. You knew it was Hwa, the only kind person here, who knocked your room.
"Did something happen?" You shook your head without looking at his face. Just as he was about to open his mouth again and say something, he closed his mouth when he heard Hongjoong's voice calling him from downstairs. "I'll start preparing dinner, if you want, you can watch TV with Hongjoong while I prepare it. I'll get his permission for you." It was starting to make you sick to your stomach at how nice he was to you. You sometimes wished he could treat you as cruelly and harshly as Hongjoong. This way, there would be nothing binding you here and you wouldn't start getting used to here. But sometimes, you wondered what would happen to Seonghwa if you managed to escape. You wouldn't forgive yourself if you couldn't save him from here and if his Hongjoong-like behavior progressed and he completely turned into Hongjoong.
"No need." You said without looking at him again. Seonghwa thought it would be better to close the door and leave you alone.
Dinner time also passed in silence. Since you didn't look at Seonghwa's face, you didn't see the new star necklace he had around his neck. Did he always have that necklace? No. You noticed it when it swayed as he took your empty plate, catching your eye with its metal reflection. "Since when did you have that necklace?" Hongjoong smiled at you subtly, as if expecting this question. "Ah, Hongjoong got this too. He gave it to me after you left. Beautiful, isn't it?" He told you with a big smile and playing with the star in his hand. He never meant to make you jealous, he was just very excited and wanted to show it off to the world. It was truly a great achievement and honor to receive a gift from Hongjoong.
Hongjoong saw the flaring jealousy in your eyes as you stood up from the table, and grabbed your arm before you could get too far. "What, you don't like it?" He was smiling at you so annoyingly that if he hadn't held your right hand, you would have tried to punch him. Unfortunately, you couldn't give the effect you wanted with your left hand. Maybe he was waiting for you to explode and punish you for it. You didn't know.
But you weren't going to give him what he wanted, he wasn't going to get that reaction from you. You put on a fake smile as you tried to pull your arm away from him. "I like it! It's beautiful! I loved it! It couldn't have been more beautiful!" You hated it when your emotions showed in your tone of voice. If you were stronger, could you stand up to him? "That tone of voice... Is it jealousy?" When he said it with a giggle, you felt yourself blushing from your ears to your cheeks. "Haha! Why are you jealous? After all, you hate this place and me, and it shouldn't matter if I buy him a gift and not you, right?" Ah, he's started again. Even if you denied it, he would continue this psychological torture until you agreed, so you would admit that you were jealous because you wanted it to end as soon as possible without tiring your brain any further. And also, yes, you were jealous.
"Yes, I'm jealous! So what?!" Seonghwa was watching you with wide eyes. Sometimes he was jealous of you too, but it wasn't because of the gifts Hongjoong bought you, it was because of the attention he gave you and didn't give him. "May I know why you're jealous, princess?" He knew why, but he enjoyed humiliating you this way. "Because... Because I've been so g-good lately too! Okay, even though I wasn't as good as Hwa, but I was s-still good! Why didn't you reward me too?" You cursed under your breath at your trembling and stuttering state. When he didn't say anything and looked at you, he looked at you for a long time, you felt uncomfortable and squirmed in your place. "Angel, we can do the lego set together-" "Seonghwa, shut up. Princess, if you were as obedient and loyal as Seonghwa, I would buy it for you too. But you still don't hug and kiss me of your own accord, it hurts my dignity." He looked at you and opened his arms a little, as if he expected you to jump into his lap, hug and kiss him right now. Even though you were jealous of the opportunities he offered Seonghwa, you were never going to give him what he wanted. You didn't move and looked at his arms for a while. Thinking you were hesitating, he said "Come here." to encourage you.
"In your dreams." You pulled your arm away from him harshly and headed back upstairs. "Then I won't buy you anything again!" His voice coming from downstairs got on your nerves. "You're not buying me anything anyway!" You shouted at him with the same tone of voice. Before slamming the door, you heard that Hongjoong mumbled something to Seonghwa about him banning you from watching TV for a week.
a/n: Again me and again yandere matz... Please keep sending me requests about yandere matz. I'm dying for them! Also, my next fic will be yandere yunho and lots of chaos! (I received the request you sent me but please give me some time to write it, dear anon♡♡)
#ateez#ateez imagines#ateez x reader#ateez yandere#yandere ateez#kpop yandere#yandere kpop#yandere hongjoong#yandere seonghwa#ateez reactions#ateez scenarios#ateez x you#ateez x y/n#kpop imagines#kim hongjoong x y/n#kim hongjoong x reader#kim hongjoong#park seonghwa x y/n#park seonghwa x reader#park seonghwa#yandere matz#matz x reader#seongjoong x reader#kpop x reader#kpop scenarios#run away together#kpop fanfic
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Fontaine, Sumeru , Inazuma boys + Zhongli and Xiao with a GN! Darling that has Newts Briefcase from fantastic beasts
Your blog looks beautiful btw
Awwe thank you so much!! <3 I hope you enjoy!
─⊰⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⊹ฺ🎃
{༻~Reader with a briefcase like Newts~༺}
CW: Fluffy and magical! (Pet names: Lyney: Mon amour)
(Includes: Lyney, Zhongli, Tighnari, Heizou, and Xiao!)
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
𑁍༄Lyney:
Lyney obviously didn't know every magic trick in Teyvat, that would be almost impossible, but he did know quite a few of them and he could usually figure out how others were done fairly quickly, but how your suitcase managed to hold a whole boar, crystalflies of every element, and tens more animals, some of which he'd never seen before, was beyond anything even he could imagine.
You'd left him speechless, mouth agape as he stared at you in awe, "Mon amour, how is this possible? How are you doing that?" You blushed slightly, seeing the way his eyes shun like that of child's when they see something magic for the first time, "I can't tell, it's a secret, but you're welcome to use it for one of your shows, just make sure to feed the scorpions, they get angry otherwise and they aren't very nice when they're angry."
𑁍༄Zhongli:
Zhongli stared at your happy face, your arms extended outwards, being used as a perch for at least 10 exotic birds...all of which had appeared from your suitcase. Originally he had assumed this was only possible because the work of an adepti, but upon closer inspection he saw no signs of adeptal power, infact it seemed completely foreign to him...which only made him more curious.
"You say it can hold as many animals as the forests of Liyue? That's certainly a incredible feat...may I asked how you've acquired such a unique and interesting treasure?" He smiled slightly at you, hoping you'd clear up the mysterious nature behind the briefcase, but you simply chuckled, "One day I'll tell you, but for now it would be far more fun to keep it a secret~"
𑁍༄Tighnari:
Tighnari was sitting in front of your suitcase with his eyes glued to it like at any moment it could actually explode, not because it was somehow holding more animals than he even knew of, but from the sheer amount power such a item would have to have. In all of his days of studying at the akademiya and traveling to other lands in search of new plant varieties, he'd never seen anything like it. "Does it contains exotic plants as well? Do each of the animals have their own ecosystems? If you shut the suitcase for to long does the oxygen run out or does the suit case somehow supply oxygen? Have you ever tried to go in the suit case?"
Your eyes widened at his many questions, more and more spilling from his lips before he could stop himself...frazzling you slightly. You hadn't expected him to get so excited about it, but even with his never ending questions, it was absolutely adorable to see him this way. It was like he'd found a miracle and he wanted to learn everything about it with you.
𑁍༄Heizou:
Heizou stuck his head into your suitcase, trying to find clues as to how it worked, but the detective was more than just stumped, he was simply baffled as to how something like it could even exist. "You weren't joking when you said you wanted to show me something beyond my imagination. I've seen Onis with horns fight beetles and gods who can make the air actually buzz with emotion, but I don't think I've ever seen anything that has come close to the mystery behind this. Do you think you could live in it?"
"I suppose you could, but I'm not exactly sure. You could be the test subject if you'd like." You winked at him teasingly and he smiled up at you, almost like he was actually considering it for moment, "I think I prefer the scenery in the outside world, but we could always take a romantic vacation together inside the suitcase~" Your cheeks turned a scarlett red as he giggled at you quietly, if you teased him, it was only fair he teased back.
𑁍༄Xiao:
Xiao kneeled down, softly scratching the underside of a mora weasels chin, unbothered by the fact the animal had just run out of your suitcase along side a fairly massive boar. You actually seemed more surprised by his reaction than he did of your suitcase, "So what do you think hmm?"
"I think,...it reminds of the teapots us adepti sometimes use. They appear normal on the outside, but on the inside it's a island specifically designed with our comfort in mind, I've never seen a suitcase version before though.." His eyes met yours and your heart skipped a beat, you responded without even thinking and it flustered you to no end, "Do you have a teapot? May I see it if you do?"
"...I...don't have one, maybe, one day...we can make one together?"
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
◥(•̀₩•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*.✧
#genshin impact#genshin headcanons#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin fluff#lyney x reader#lyney x you#lyney headcanons#lyneyfluff#lyney genshin#zhongli fluff#zhongli x reader#zhongli x you#zhongli headcanons#zhongli genshin impact#tighnari genshin#tighnari x reader#tighnari x you#tighnari headcanons#tighnari fluff#heizou x you#heizou genshin impact#heizou x reader#heizou fluff#heizou headcanons#xiao x reader#xiao fluff#xiao x you#xiao headcanons#xiao genshin impact
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𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u
Part: 9
Click here to read the first part.
Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.
Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader
Warnings: +18!(MINORS DNI), heavy angst, hurt, male masturbation, language, Soldier Boy is an asshole, PTSD, mention of drugs, mention of torture
Word Count: 4290
A/N: English is not my first language.
* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.
Ben's chest began to feel colder beneath your fingertips, and the intense glow gradually subsided. Ben continued to stare at you in a way that defied explanation. It amazed you both that you were able to prevent the dangerous warmth in his chest, or perhaps he was controlling it subconsciously. But you knew you were the one who diverted his attention. While the heat beneath his body seemed under control, one of his gloved hands held yours on his chest, giving you an intimate look.
You muttered, trying to figure out what was wrong with him. “What happened to you?” Until you were certain he was indeed alright, you ignored the firm grip he had on your hand. You realized that he was probably not the one who intentionally exploded New York and that there was something very wrong with him.
“Well, baby, I'm not sure.” He gently put his palm closer to yours and remarked, “It's probably just a side effect of the things that happened to me in that fucking lab in Russia.”
You persisted by stating, “This looks dangerous, Ben,” despite his attempts to downplay his predicament and his continuous holding of your hands as if you were going to push him at any moment. “You might continue harming innocent people if you don't find a way to stop.”
Ben felt a wave of uneasiness pass over him, and his fingers tightened around yours. Because he was unsure of how to use his newfound abilities, he felt like a freshly empowered teenager, and you treated him as though you were a parent cautioning a careless youngster, which disturbed him and caused a sense of insecurity to take over.
“It's not a big deal,” Ben muttered in a harsh voice, trying to give the impression that he was stronger than this—even though at the moment he didn't feel like it. “As you can see, nothing happened. I suppose you were able to handle this for me in some way.”
You pushed his hands away and withdrew immediately when you verified that his body temperature had returned to normal. Ben scowled at the fact that, in contrast to him, you weren't very excited to be near since you two met again, but he felt as though his body would explode if he didn't get to touch you right away. His balls felt particularly heavy under his supe suit, and he didn't jerk off
for days—actually, years. Maybe you just needed to be alone with him to make a step.
“I think it's best that we remain together for the time being,” you stated in a serious tone. “Ben, it won't be good if you blow up again and can't control yourself.”
When you finally agreed to stay with Ben, he felt a sense of satisfaction that kept him smiling nefariously. He reasoned that maybe his newfound abilities weren't all that useless after all.
Ben grinned slyly and replied, “Course, sweetheart, since you're persisting in being with me that much. It would be better if I didn't stay alone.”
As he scanned your upper body expectantly and dismissed the situation with humor, you rolled your eyes.
“I believe there's a problem with his powers,” you turned to Butcher after you pushed Ben aside before he trapped you again and you sat down on the coach. “It is better if I stay with him.”
“If that's what you want, of course. Because of the situation going on in his chest, his ass gave us all enough trouble.”
Sitting on a coach with a coke in his hands, Ben followed you while you had a small talk with Butcher, his jaw clenching with jealousy, but he didn’t say a thing to make you feel uncomfortable.
Ben said, “It's not a big deal,” with an unkind glare in Butcher's direction.
Butcher said irritably, “It might not be for you, but it's a fucking big deal for us and all the people out there. In addition, I was wondering if the two of you could convince your former buddies to kill Homelander.”
“What?” you exclaimed, stunned. He spoke as though your guys had not always held hostility toward Ben. When he abruptly vanished, they most likely celebrated his absence. “Why do you believe they would offer Ben any kind of support at all? Everyone despised him.”
“Are you able to track them down?” Ben asked abruptly.
“They would hate to see you,” you murmured, your eyes widening in disbelief.
“When I find them, they fucking better piss in their suits,” Ben stated in a stern tone. “Noir will be the first person I'll fucking slaughter out of all of them.”
You cut him off, glaring at him, saying, “You stay away from Earving. You caused enough suffering for them all.”
“Why do you defend those who betray pathetic losers with such devotion?”
Since you've already been through a lot, Ben tried not to lose his temper when he was speaking with you, but he couldn't help but become enraged when he saw you standing up for betraying shitheads over him. He had great intentions for the two of you and was the only one who truly cared about you.
“Not them, Ben, but Vought was the one who betrayed both of us.”
You sighed and tried to seem empathetic and nice so as not to get on Ben's nerves too much because his new powers were already causing difficulties.
“Where were Noir or others when you were in that lab while the doctors were torturing you?” Ben pointed a finger in your face and demanded furiously. “You continue to defend those bitches against me, even though I am the only one who fucking saved you.”
“Ben, I won't argue with you.” With a wink, you teased him, saying, “You seem too sensitive for a proper conversation right now.”
Ben responded, “You are not making me angry, sweetie,” glancing at your body as your smile vanished and your cheeks turned crimson. “I want to take my meat off and jerk off at the moment because of you.”
Butcher replied, “Not on my fucking coach,” as you crossed your arms over your chest and averted your gaze from Ben's keen gaze.
Ben stated, “You tell me,” in a serious manner. “Where am I going to spend a week with Y/N?”
Ben was kind of relieved that he and you were both saved, even though he had not trusted Butcher and the others at all. He would have the opportunity to express how much he missed you in every way and would definitely help you start a second time by spending an entire week with you. You could speak, fuck, and do all of that for an entire week.
Feeling his balls getting tighter under his suit, he shifted on the coach, thinking of you in nasty positions, just like in the good old days.
“The location is arranged. Despite the little place to stay, I believe the two of you can get by for a week without needing any extra care.”
“What about Homelander?” Ben confidently inquired, widening his legs and placing his arm up to the coach, his hardness visible through his supe suit.
He saw you glancing at him and smiling mischievously. You wanted to say something offensive, but you knew that he was utterly without shame right then and there and that he would say something nasty as soon as you talked about his bulge.
Butcher sighed. “He's probably scared the shit out of his pants. Let's give him and you two a short break until the thing that happened in New York and Ohio is forgotten completely.”
You said, uncomfortable, “I don't think it will ever be forgotten, Butcher. Vought will try their hardest to capture us once more since the harm is too immense. They may even be looking for us at this very moment.”
It concerned you that Vought wouldn't just let you and Ben live on your own, unaccountably. It was not what you wanted to return to the lab to be tormented and examined for the future of other supes. But you had no idea how to get out of this difficult dilemma. Ben and the rest of Butcher's squad were not people you would trust with your life, so you realized you needed a plan to protect yourself from what was happening.
You also didn't want Ben to be tortured in Russia again like you were, but his main goal was to take revenge and murder Homelander. Despite never having laid eyes on the man, he was prepared to slaughter him. They would never allow Ben to touch Homelander if Vought was that supportive of him. That meant you had to first convince Ben to cease his collaboration with Butcher.
“People in the modern world are easy to forget, I promise you. Also, they could've already found you two if they had wanted to,” Butcher mumbled, trying to soothe you. “Remember, a week is full of possibilities, so try not to dwell on it too much. They won't remember for very long, and Vought is currently dealing with its own issues.”
When Ben realized how terrified you were of having to deal with the fallout from his actions and everything that transpired, his heart began to melt with regret. He was aware of your constant need for a house, a place where you could feel secure and at home, so it disturbed you to know that you had nowhere to go while Vought looked for you and that you might fall prisoner once more.
Ben understood that it was his responsibility as a man to ensure that you were protected and to keep you away from danger. You needed to spend time together before he could help you forget the unpleasant and harsh things he had done to you. He intended to start over with you, and whatever happened was all in the past. Homelander and Vought weren't that big of a concern, and things would be considerably simpler if he learned to use his new abilities. You were needed by him for both.
You leaned back toward the coach and questioned, curiously, “Why do you want to kill Homelander that much?” placing one hand under your head.
Butcher's heart clenched as a mixture of regret and affection overtook his body as his thoughts were filled with Becca's memories. Not that he even knew if he would survive.
He quickly cleared his throat and replied, “He hurt my wife,” cutting it short.
You understood, judging by her voice, that she had passed away, and you were at a loss for words. Homelander must be Vought's newest evil toy, as they have a history of hurting people and getting away with it. Somehow, you wanted to soothe Butcher, but all you said was, “I'm sorry to hear that.”
Butcher turned to face you, perhaps trying to persuade you, saying, “She is not the only one he hurt and won't be the last. He must die.”
“Even if he dies and you take your revenge, there will always be a new one, and you know this,” you insisted. “When it came to supes, Vought always had a backup plan. In the same way that they treated Ben and me. Not even the power worries them. All they want is a toy that they can play with that is practical as well as obeyant.”
“And they'll fucking pay for it,” Ben exclaimed with hatred.
“Ben, this is not going to end well for us. We are unable simply to overthrow the government or whomever in charge.”
“We'll see about that, sweetheart.”
You sighed, realizing that Ben had already made up his mind and that you two would have to talk about it at another time. He would hurt you once more if he carried on acting recklessly, but based on his actions, it didn't appear like he gave a damn. Even though you knew he was always self-centered, you were disappointed to find that he didn't give a damn about what would happen to you if he kept acting like an enemy of the state.
“Everyone had been told that you were a traitor and that you would be placed in a lab to be tested for potential superpowers. How were you treated by them? What did they do to you?” Frenchie narrowed his eyes and asked with curiosity.
You moved in the coach, pushing back the images in your head as you recalled the horrible memories. But you didn't let others see you as powerless or fragile.
You wanted to smile at him, but the traumatic images were just too overwhelming.
“I guess they kind of wanted to take off my womb to create a natural supe baby, but they simply couldn't as they couldn't go through my skin with their needles and everything,” you said.
While Frenchie was obviously at a loss for words while attempting to comprehend the years of agony you had endured, his face turned white.
Ben tried to dismiss the images in his mind, which ranged from vicious hands on you to someone trying to rip your body apart and kill you, while his heart was filled with hate and fury. He vowed to kill anyone who even slightly assisted in your torture, regardless of whether they were Homelander or Vought.
“Every single of them will die,” he declared with assurance, as if guaranteeing you, his compassionate green eyes locked on yours. “I promise it to you.”
You were briefly stunned, speechless, by the intense expression on his face, but you soon gathered yourself and joked, “It's better if you just do nothing,” attempting to break off the seriousness of the moment.
After glancing at the supe woman next to him, Frenchie remarked, “It's getting late. Will they be staying here tonight?” He asked Butcher.
Butcher grumbled as he looked at his watch. “Yes, this is where we'll all spend the night. There are probably enough rooms for them.”
“How about Annie and Hughie?” Frenchie asked again, observing the supe woman make her way to the nearest room; she seemed weary and exhausted.
She said nothing since you entered the house, which confused you. Although you were eager to start up a conversation with the new supe women, it's possible that she felt unsafe in the same room as Ben. It wouldn't surprise you. Even though you felt a little uncomfortable, you decided to try talking to her later. They might realize that you were no different from them in this situation if they truly wanted to take down Homelander's tyranny and those people weren't supporting the Vought like you were.
“They'll stay too,” Butcher cut it short.
Frenchie shot you a hesitant glance as his hand ran through the top of his head. “Is it possible for you and your friend to share a room? It seems like Annie and Hughie appear to be staying. There would be enough rooms if they didn't.”
“Yeah,” Ben responded abruptly, getting up before you could reply. As it turned out, you just gave Frenchie a brief nod.
Butcher responded, “Perfect,” and stood up. “Good night, ladies.”
You thanked Frenchie when he showed you the room you'll be staying with Ben and took a quick look at the cramped, dim room filled with old pieces of furniture.
Ben slowly unfastened his belt while he observed you searching inside the wardrobe for something to wear. His blood had been burning in his veins for an hour now, and he just wouldn't stop coming toward you. He was about to go crazy from his desire to touch you. You were alone for the first time in a very long time, so it's been a fucking long time since you've fucked properly. Ben's balls hurt from missing your gentle moans and seeing you beneath his body. You were finally alone to speak, fuck, and discuss things tonight about your future and all.
You turned your back to Ben to change after finding a pink t-shirt. Just after removing it, anxiety and the chill in the room caused your nipples to harden, and you felt Ben's eyes on your back.
Ben turned you quickly, crushed his warm lips on yours, and began to kiss you frantically before you had even put on your shirt. He was moving too fast for you to react, and you were too shocked and perplexed to do anything. He urged you to kiss him back by pushing your back against the bed and climbing on top of you, aggressively using his tongue in your mouth. The moment the chilly material of his suit touched your bare chest, you shivered.
Ben kept kissing you, getting lost in his pleasure, not able to understand if you were responding to him or not. His hardness was hurting beneath his supe suit. He put his hands around one of your tits and gave it a firm squeeze, pressing his shaft firmly between your legs.
You were in shock at how quickly everything was escalating. Only when you heard Ben unzipping his pants as his mouth filled yours with low growling did you come to your senses.
You stopped his tough hands from reaching your underwear and saved your burning lips from his. As you struggled to catch your breath, his lips slid quickly over your body, finding one of your nipples and aggressively sucking it until you forgot how to breathe.
You finally managed to say, “Ben,” in a trembling voice. “Stop it.”
When you forced his mouth away from your tits, he continued to press his firm shaft between your legs. He irritably asked, “What the fuck? It's been fucking so long.”
Ben placed his strong arms over your head and stared at your nipples that were covered with his spit through darkened eyes for a long moment until you finally gasped out and exclaimed, “I can't fucking believe you.”
“What now?” he asked, speaking as though nothing was wrong between you and that everything was normal.
“Are you a fucking rabbit in heat?”
He questioned incredulously, “Why are you so mad?” as he continued to delicately rub against your pussy with his shaft through your sweatpants.
“Ben, it has been practically decades since our breakup. We didn't even end our relationship properly because you remained silent and basically cheated on me by dating Crimson.”
Ben frowned as you mentioned the past, stopping his motions on you and trying to maintain his composure.
He just stated “We can talk about such things later,” sounding displeased to hearing his relationship with the Countess. “Let us get off some steam first.”
You whispered, “No,” and used all of your effort to push him away from you. “There is nothing left to talk.”
Ben watched your tits disappear from sight while you took the pink t-shirt he threw onto the floor, and you hastily took it on from your head with trembling hands. As soon as you moved away from him, he eventually stood up.
“It's all in the past now,” he remarked, regretfully glancing at your fragile appearance. “We can fuck first and then talk it out.”
“I don't want you to ever touch me again.” You were enraged at how he continued to neglect everything else in favor of only wanting to fuck you and added, “I mean it.”
Ben said, “I know you don't mean this,” as he approached you with confidence. “You and I both have the same desires for this. We both want each other so badly. The way your body reacts to me even now makes it very clear to me.”
You glared at him angrily and ignored his idiotic, enormous ego, saying, “I don't want you in my life ever again.”
He touched your arms and asked, his voice annoyed, “Why have you suddenly gotten angry?”
Observing his continued blindness to you, you sighed. Though it didn't seem to be as essential as you anticipated for him, you hoped that at least he talked about all that happened. But he was the same selfish man who acted like he cared about you, then betrayed you and hurt you. There was no need to make your hopes up.
You said with an irritated tone, “I can't believe I'm so blind when it comes to you. You don't even care how much you cause me pain in every way possible, and all you want is to have fun. Am I just a fucking toy for you to play with as you like it?”
Ben abruptly interrupted you, saying in a serious tone, “Of course not,” as his powerful arms moved slowly over your shoulders. “I want to discuss and work out everything that went wrong between us. I simply..missed you so much.”
Even though you wanted to believe his sincerity, you felt nothing at all moved by it. It was difficult for you to believe him at all since he had so many lies to tell you and so much sorrow in his words. It was difficult for you to remember the joyful emotions you had for him in the past, but though you tried to recall the wonderful times you had together, they felt like memories belonging to someone else now. Something had died in your heart for him.
You softly pulled his hands off your arms and murmured in a solemn tone, “I wish I could believe you, but I don't.”
His voice was low as he questioned, “What do you mean?”
With a heavy heart, you stated, “Everything that happened between us is in the past. It is no longer there. You only want me by your side now because I was faithful to you the day I came to help you, even though you have really hurt me.”
Although it was difficult to acknowledge his selfishness, it was best to face the facts straight away and prevent him from hurting or abusing you in the future.
“It's not like that,” Ben cut you off right away in a harsh voice.
He felt confused, not knowing how to convince you of his seriousness. You were right to hold such low expectations of him; he would not deny it, but he also understood that nothing would change if you hadn't been there to save him that day.
You said, “I'm tired, Ben,” indicating that you didn't want to talk about it more. “I really need to sleep.”
He let it go and sighed, realizing you weren't all that keen on talking at the moment. After all, this was your first day in the modern world, so it was understandable that you were a little lost.
Ben muttered, “Okay, but this isn't the end. We'll discuss it afterwards. For now, you take a rest.”
As he watched you turn your back on him and slip under the sheets, you remained silent. Ben began removing his supe suit with a growl. The way you felt excited and moist at his slight touch told him you didn't mean any of it. He knew that you were nonetheless deeply in love with him. Every part of his body
felt the presence of it. However, he realized that before he fucked you, he had to convince you that he cared about you.
He went into the bathroom, growling angrily as he felt his bulge kicking his suit. Ben could finally touch himself because you were safe now. Knowing that you would find out what he was doing in the bathroom caused his lips to twist into a smile.
You tried to fall asleep, shifting on the bed to a more comfortable position as you heard Ben turn on the water. But as soon as you closed your eyes, you heard him growling low as he stroked himself under the water. He was touching himself furiously because he knew you would hear anything he was doing, even if you weren't trying to listen.
Ben was moaning your name and moving faster as you cursed your supe hearing. As you moved into the bed, your cheeks flushed, yet you kept quiet.
Ben noticed that you were pressing your legs together as though your body were trying to find relief, so he growled and beat his cock more.
Feeling closer, he passionately exclaimed, “Fucking touch yourself. I fucking missed you and your little pussy so much.”
As he continued to talk dirty about how hard he would fuck and how many times he would come inside of you if you let him, your cheeks grew red, and you finally muttered, “Stop it.”
He trembled and whispered while wet sounds filled the bathroom, “Almost there, sweetheart,” as if hearing your voice were to give him pleasure.
Ben groaned and began to cum while murmuring your name. Your walls were tightening around nothing, and even though your body was screaming for you to touch yourself, you ignored the aching between your legs as he kept spilling his thick white ropes in between his powerful strokes that filled the bathroom. It took him long to empty his heavy balls. It was only when he let out a satisfied moan that you realized you were holding your breath.
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿
Ben knew you still cared and desired him as much as he did, and he would fucking do everything to show to you that you and he were meant to be together.
Next Chapter
A/N: Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! -`♡´-
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Hello sir, you wouldn't happen to have a tie for sale would you? I just found out I need one for my upcoming job interview. I'll take any color or design of tie you have at this point, I'm desperate.
The Black Tie
It's a crisp morning, the kind that makes the air feel alive with possibility, and you're feeling pretty good about yourself. You've scored a decent black tie from a garage sale, which you're now wearing proudly as you step into the gleaming lobby of a high-rise building. The company you're interviewing with is one of those big, corporate giants, the kind that makes you feel like a tiny fish in a very large pond. But you're not just any tiny fish; you're one with a brain that's been honed to a sharp point by years of study, and a degree that proves it. You've got this interview in the bag, or so you think.
You wipe the beads of sweat from your forehead, feeling your heart race as you make your way to the correct floor. The walls seem to be closing in, a reminder of the pressure you've been under to land this job. You've always been the smart kid, the one who'd rather hit the books than the gym, and here you are, surrounded by men who look like they've stepped out of a fitness magazine. But you shrug it off, reminding yourself that brains got you this far. You went back to the elevator and pressed the correct floor.
As the elevator doors glide open, you step into a sea of corporate sameness. Suits and ties as far as the eye can see, you stand tall, the tie around your neck a symbol of your determination. The interviewer, a stern-faced woman with a clipboard, motions you to the waiting room. It's a small space filled with equally nervous candidates, all of them flipping through their resumes like they're reading a map to hidden treasure.
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You sit down in the chair, feeling the cool leather against your skin, and that's when it hits you. A warmth, starting in your chest and spreading like wildfire. The kind of warmth that could either be nerves or something more. You wipe the sweat from your brow, noticing the damp stain spreading across the fabric of your shirt. The heat pools in your stomach, a warm, sticky reminder of the extra pounds you've been carrying around. But as you look down, you realize something's not quite right. Your shirt, which was snug around your midsection just moments ago, is now baggy. You tentatively poke at the fabric and feel the firmness of a flat stomach beneath.
Panic sets in, but it's quickly overridden by something else. A strange, exhilarating sensation as your chest starts to rise, pushing against the fabric of your shirt. You grunt, the sound echoing a little too loudly in the quiet room. You glance around, but the other interviewees are too busy with their own nerves to pay you any mind. Your hand moves to your chest, feeling the firmness of muscles you've never had before. It's like someone's pumped you full of air, and your shirt is straining to contain the new you. Your shoulders follow suit, pushing through the sleeves of your now too-small coat. You can't help but stare, watching in a mix of shock and fascination as your body transforms before your very eyes.
The feeling spreads like a wildfire, igniting every muscle fiber in your arms. Your biceps balloon, your triceps pop, and your forearms thicken into ropes of power. Your back muscles start to stretch and bulge, pushing at the seams of your shirt. You can feel the fabric tearing, giving way to the new, more powerful version of you that's emerging.
The pain in your stomach is intense, but it's quickly replaced by a sense of awe as you feel your abs forming. The soft, squishy flesh of your belly is now a tight, chiseled landscape of definition. You can feel the ridges of each muscle, the way they knit together like a finely woven tapestry. Your obliques, those elusive lines that you've only seen on the most dedicated of gym-goers, are suddenly prominent, creating a V-shape that leads down to your waist.
Your mind races with excitement as you flex your arms again, this time harder, watching the muscles dance beneath your skin. The sleeves of your once baggy coat now hug your biceps like a lover, showcasing every bulge and curve. Your forearms, now thick and ropey, the veins pulsing with the beat of your heart. Your lats spread like wings, pulling the tails of your shirt taut across your broad back. The feeling is exhilarating, and you can't help but let out a soft growl of approval.
You catch a glimpse of your reflection in the polished glass of the conference room door. The sight of your new physique is like a punch to the gut, but instead of pain, you feel an overwhelming sense of pride. Gone is the shy, overweight man who used to dread taking his shirt off at the pool. In his place stands a muscular Adonis, a creature of power and beauty that you never knew existed. You can't help but strike a pose, one hand on your hip, the other flexed in front of you. You look like a Greek god who's been teleported into a corporate jungle, and it feels absolutely amazing.
The seams of your pants are screaming for mercy as your legs and calves swell to match your newfound upper body strength. Each flex of your quads sends a shockwave through the fabric, threatening to rip it apart at any moment. Your feet, now larger and more defined, feel like they're straining the confines of your shoes. You can't resist the urge to stand and stretch, feeling the material of your pants strain with each movement.
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You smirk, feeling the confidence suddenly growing on you. You can't help but revel in the power surging through your veins. The room seems to shrink as your presence grows, your muscles casting shadows on the walls.
But then it was not yet done. You felt something stirring in your pants, something that didn't quite fit the pattern of your transformation so far. Your cock began to elongate, stretching out like a firehose slowly being pulled from the base of your skin. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that made you moan and groan. It grew longer and thicker, pushing against the fabric of your boxer shorts, straining the elastic band to its limits.
As your newfound member reached its full potential, your mind was flooded with memories that didn't quite feel like your own. They were memories of your workouts at the gym, pushing weights until your muscles screamed, and early mornings spent measuring your meals down to the last gram. The numbers and formulas of accounting that once filled your thoughts were replaced by workout sets and protein shakes. The thrill of the grind, the desire to sculpt your body into something worthy of admiration, it was all there, as vivid as if you'd lived it yourself.
You couldn't help but let out a deep, guttural groan as your body finished its transformation shredding the remains of your clothes, leaving only black tie in your bulging neck and your black boxers with a bulging anaconda desperately containing it. The room was silent, all eyes on you as your muscles bulged through the shredded remnants of your once baggy shirt and pants. Your cock, now a monstrous extension of your newfound masculinity, stood tall and proud, the head poking out from the top of your boxers like a beacon. Your voice, once high-pitched and uncertain, was now a deep, commanding rumble, a testament to the power coursing through your veins.
The interviewer's jaw dropped as he took in the scene before him. He'd seen a lot of things in his line of work, but nothing quite like this. His eyes darted to the clock, then back to you, and a look of realization dawned on his face. "Oh, sir," he stammered, his eyes wide with shock, "you're in the wrong place. The modeling agency's interviews are on the floor below."
With a flex of your massive bicep, you grinned and said, "My bad, Ms.!" The room was silent, every eye in the place was on you, taking in the spectacle that was your transformed body. The other applicants, all so neatly packaged in their suits, looked positively puny in comparison. You could see the envy in their eyes, the way their gazes lingered on your chiseled abs and the thick, powerful muscles that now rippled with every movement.
You turned and strutted away from the room, each step a deliberate show of the new confidence that filled you to the brim. The stairs were just a few feet away, and you could feel the eyes of the other hopefuls boring into your back. The idea of being late for a modeling interview was almost laughable. You had the body of a god now, and you knew it.
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#muscle growth stories#personality change#jockification#jock tf#male transformation#ai generated#nerd to jock
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can you write 90s Axl Rose being all sweet to his girlfriend and they have bath sex in the jacuzzi in their hotel room?
A/n: the thought of this is really sweet but I just can’t stop thinking about how badly it would hurt like on your knees and stuff, man I’d fall and break my jaw power to you if you could survive bath sex
Also sorry that it’s short I kind of lost motivation halfway through, I hope you it’s still good <3
Warnings: smut, fingering (f receiving), bath sex, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!
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You were so happy that Axl finally brought you out on tour with him. You'd been seeing each other for almost a year and had always wanted to come with him.
Axl was hesitant, tours could be draining, but Guns was going to some of the most romantic places this tour and he was sure it would make a great trip for the both of you.
You'd been so excited for this trip, planning and packing a month in preparation for it. Axl didn't seemed stressed in the slightest, although you were the one packing for him and his trip planning was also done by a group manager. He did try to help you calm down a few times, it usually worked, at the very least it was helpful and a sweet gesture.
When the tour finally came he refused to leave your side, even if you were just going to the bathroom he'd wait outside for you.
With the way everyone was treating you you got the feeling he had given a speech to everyone, lecturing them on how to treat you.
Axl wanted to show you off, always helping you pick out more revealing clothes when it was just the two of you going out, making sure people saw when he brought you into his dressing room. He wanted people to know how lucky he was to have you and he wanted people to know he had you.
It was about a week into the tour, you'd just landed in Paris and were staying in a hotel room that had a window staring out directly onto the Eiffel Tower.
It was night and the city was glowing so beautifully, you couldn't help but stare out the big window.
Axl came up behind you, placing his hands on your hips and giving them a small squeeze. "Beautiful, isn't it?" You nodded. Axl opened his mouth to say something more but you interrupted him.
"No ruining it with something cheesy." Axl scoffed.
"It wasn't gonna say anything cheesy." You rolled your eyes. "I was just gonna say that it's not as beautiful as you." You groaned and walked off.
"Alright, you ruined it." Axl laughed. "I'm going to check out the place." You walked back into the living room area, a half kitchen by the front door. You noticed another door leading out to what you assumed to be a deck, and it was. A deck with a jacuzzi, that is. It was filled and ready to go so you immediately went to get in.
You went to change into a bathing suit but couldn't find one, even though you were sure you had brought one. You searched and searched but it simply wasn't in your suitcase, so you went looking for Axl.
You eventually found him on the deck setting up candles and tossing in rose petals. He smiled back at you when he heard the door open. "Where's my bathing suit?" You asked, coming to stand beside him and admire his work.
"Come on, you don't need a bathing suit." He assured, wrapping an arm around you and rubbing your side. You rolled your eyes at him. Axl shrugged and began to strip.
Your eyes widened as you looked out across the city. "What are you doing?" Axl was already getting in the water.
"Thought you could use some company." He said with a smile. "Now you won't be lonely. You chewed your cheek but you couldn't deny that it sounded nice so you stripped as well and got in with him.
The water was just right, it relaxed your muscles and smelled so good with the candles. Axl sat beside you, running his hands over your body, kissing down your neck and whispering in your ear.
His hands moved lower, rubbing your thighs, teasing your hole. You let out a soft sigh. "What are you doing?" You asked, voice low and airy.
"Just helping you relax." He said, deep voice raspy in your ear. You melted under his touch, head falling back and resting on his shoulder and he rubbed your clit in circles, drawing more moans out of you.
He slid a finger into you, groaning when he heard the noise that came from you. "You're so pretty, you know that?" You moaned in response, grinding down on his finger. "Don't worry, we're getting there." He kissed your cheek and pulled his finger out of you, you whined softly.
He pulled you up onto his lap, sinking you down onto his dick. His arms wrapped around your waist and he held you tight to his chest. He rolled his hips, you gasped softly and he did it again. You started grinding down on him and soon you both found a rhythm.
"Ah-ngh, Axl." You muttered. "Fuck, go faster." He chuckled and kissed your neck. He started moving faster and you matched his speed.
Axl pushed you off of him and turned you around. You were staring out to the cityscape below, all the bright lights scattered across the town, the Eiffel Tower looming not far away.
Your hands were on the edge of the jacuzzi, your knees resting on the seats, Axl was behind you with his hands on your hips. "Was this what you were thinking when I asked you to come on tour with me?" He asked, deep voice pulling you from your thoughts.
You shrugged. "Not the first thing that came to mind." He kissed the back of your neck and over your shoulders.
“But it’s pretty fucking nice, huh?” You inhaled deeply, moaning softly when he pushed into you once more.
“Hah, it’s perfect.” You sighed. “You make it more perfect.”
Axl laughed. “And I’m the cheesy one?” You waved him off and pushed your ass back on him.
#guns n roses#guns n roses fanfic#guns n roses x reader#gnr#guns n roses smut#gnr fic#guns n roses fluff#guns n roses imagine#gunsnroses#axl rose fluff#axl rose x reader#axl rose smut#axl rose imagine#axl rose fanfiction#axl rose gnr#axl gnr#axl rose
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New Soldier Skin
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f13ba8748b641bfa7fb1c86f4917b108/a7378eb08e0c316d-09/s540x810/e6ac023078947a9a89c21f6766cb950861662a0c.jpg)
Nick found it weird that the doctor was calling him again for a check up, he had done one early that month and they normally don't do twice a month. But he had no choice in the matter, he was just a soldier.
"I'm feeling perfectly fine doctor, there's no need for another check up, also I'm out of duty tomorrow"
"Nonsense, It's very important that we keep track of the health of our soldiers, now stand on the scale over there please. We just want to make sure that you are ready to return to your family, I bet you must be really excited right?"
"Yes I am, Doctor, It's been a long time, can't wait to see my wife and kids back at home" He said getting on the scale.
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The doctor's friendly expression changed drastically once Nick was standing on the scale with his back to him, now the doctor had a blank and emotionless expression. The doctor walked to his laptop on his table and pressed a key.
"My wife can't wait to see me back at home, and the kids are really...huh?" The soldier looked down at his feet confused, he could feel the scale vibrating beneath his feet, he tried to take his feet off the scale but he couldn't, his feet were stuck to the scale like a magnetic force was pulling them down "That's weird, I can't pull my feet off the scale, doctor?"
"Thank you for your service, Nick" It was all the Doctor said before pressing another key on the laptop.
"What? What is..." Before Nick could finish, he felt a strong electric shock run up from his feet and spread to the rest of his body, he could feel every cell in his body being hit by the eletrical charge. His body became rigid and he grunted for a few seconds, but then the humming of the scale stopped and he fell to the floor completely hollowed out. His hollow head on the floor with smoke coming out of his orifices.
The Doctor looked unfrazed at the lifeless bodysuit on the floor, actually, he looked even bored with the whole event.
"You can come out now, your new skin is ready" The doctor said and then the door opened and a humanoid alien entered the room. The white humanoid alien was wearing a visibly worn out and torn open human skin, it was very damaged with holes and scratches, and was also missing half the face, under the skin it displayed the alien true form, a white gelatinous goo.
"It was a shame that your last human skin was damaged in battle, you're always so careless with your skins. The General was furious." Said the Doctor.
"I know, I will be more carefull this time" The Alien said looking at the skinsuit lying on the floor, suddenly his true white form started to melt, hollowing out his current damaged skin, his gelatinous form crawled on the floor in the direction of Nick's skin and started to enter through the holes in his head, mouth, eyes, nose, ears, soon the hollow body of Nick started to inflate and gain life, Nick's flat muscles started to get bigger to their full power. The alien was filling every part of Nick with It's slimy form, filling it like a balloon.
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After a few seconds he stood up in his new human body, Nick's eyes were completely white with the gelatin alien body underneath, but they quickly started to turn into normal human eyes, now identical to Nick's eyes.
"Do you have any new assignments for me Doctor?"
"No, actually this was his last week of service before his break, you're going back to his family tomorrow"
"Are you serious? It's so boring to pretend to be a husband and a dad, You know I like the action, I want to go into combat!"
"Sorry, but I'm just following orders from the General." The Doctor said grabbing the deteriorated human skin from the floor and looking at it with a disgusted expression. "This was your fourth skin only this year" The doctor then threw the human suit inside a garbage chut on the wall, then he closed it "That's why we chose Nick to be your next skin. The General thinks it's better for you to spend some time out of combat. I know It's not fun to have to pretend to be our skins, but I guess it will be good for you to relax a little, besides you don't have to act exactly like Nick, you just have to not act too much out of character"
"Is being fucked by men too out of character for this hunky skin?" The soldier asked with a devious smile, looking at the doctor with hungry eyes.
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"As long as his wife doesn't find out..." The doctor said dropping his pants to the floor, exposing the jockstrap he was wearing.
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They both started to make out as Nick groped and squeezed the doctor's big package. Nick dropped to his knees and lowered the Doctor's jockstrap and was in awe to what he saw.
"Wow, your skin is so freaking hung!"
"He used this thing on a lot of women, but I didin't used it in a long time"
"Fill it up, I want to see how big it when completely filled"
The doctor member started to inflate like a modelling balloon in a fraction of seconds.
Nick then started to suck it while he jerked his own hard member. A few minutes later Nick was lying on the doctor's table with his burly legs up being roughly fucked by the doctor's thick cock.
"How is my health, doctor?" Asked Nick with a grin while having his hole stretched by the doctor's big member.
"You're fine... really fine. You are free to go to your new family. Just don't forget to smile and say sentimental words when you see them, like how much you missed them"
______________________
Monthly Report:
Doctor, I'm having a blast in Nick's skin, you were right, I needed a break from all the action, I can have as much action in here with a body like this, I lost count of how many guys fucked me already. Apart acting like a gay slut in the shadows, his wife and kids don't even suspect their beloved husband and daddy is just a skin now. I guess I'm doing a good job as Nick.
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End of report.
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I know they’re not an older man per se, but lately I’ve been thinking about Jason or Dick having a good cop-bad cop dynamic with Slade, where Slade is just incredibly mean to you but then Jay or Dick is there to coo sweet words at you
I know the obvious here is Bad cop Slade, good cop Dick or Jason. And I love that. Good cop Dick especially is MWAH! 💕 and I absolutely need to write actual smut for this, anon you beaut! Like Slade pistoning into your puffy, swollen, cum-filled sex, calling you ever name under the sun. Spanking your red raw ass, and calling you weak when you start to sob. But its okay baby, shh, shhhh. Dick is underneath you, kissing your tears, stroking your hair telling you how good your doing as if he's not contributing to your overstimulation, fuck!
But I implore you to stick with me here when I say, AK! Slade and Jason - bad cop, WORSE cop.
Specifically: AK!Jason/Bat!Reader/Slade
As per, Slade is loyal to the money, but this is definitely a darker portrayal of Jason.
Warnings: Dub-con, swearing, interrogation kinda, choking, restraints, humiliation. No smut, but maybe I’ll write an extension.
The first thing you notice is the smell, you're underground somewhere for sure. Then you feel the cold, a chill across your warm skin, making your hair stand on edge. From that, you register very quickly that you’ve been stripped down to your underwear.
Appalled, you shoot up, reaching to cover yourself but only manage to make it an inch before cold, hard metal cuts into your body. You're tied to a chair by a multitude of pressure points that both hurt and rouse something salacious.
Shit. Shit shit shit. You can’t believe you fucked up this bad. Bruce had told you to get out of the city but you’d refused. You had to be on your top game but you’d fucked it, caused more problems.
Accessing your surroundings your eyes dart around the room until they fall on your captor. Deathstroke is sat a few feet away, leaning back on his chair, seemingly examining something on a tablet. It's hard to tell, the one eye hole in his mask shrouded by shadow. You hadn’t expected him to be at the militia checkpoint. He’d taken you down easier than you’d like to admit, but you’d put up a fight. Tooth and nail. So seeing him so relaxed without so much as a chip in his armour is a little disheartening.
“Trackers in your suit, right?” His deep voice echoes through the room, making you jump. “I would’ve just patted you down, but the boss man didn't want to take any risks.”
His head turns, and you can feel his eye raking across your bound and exposed form. “Not that I'm complaining.”
You recoil into yourself, disgusted by his blatant perversion, and the warm flush it sends through your body.
“Tell your ‘boss’ to come face me himself.” You spit between gritted teeth. His response only adds to your unease.
“Don’t you worry, pet. He’s on his way.” It’s infuriating, the name, the way he words things so tenderly but laces it with obvious, sickly amused derision. If you could feel any smaller, that would do it. “And between you and me, I get the feeling he’s pretty excited to get his hands on you.”
As if on queue, the piercing sound of an opening door creaks behind you. Despite the squeaky warning, you nearly jump for a second time when it slams shut once more. Heavy boots forebodingly stamp against the concrete floor. As much as you want to, you refuse to crane your neck to get a better look. It’s all you can do to maintain even a little bit of power.
“Well, well, well.” The modulated voice is even more sinister in person. His hand grabs the back of your chair, pulling you back a few inches, no doubt just to prove that he could. To instil fear. He leans over you, close enough that the cold metal of his helmet brushes the side of your face, but still, you refuse to look at him. “If it isn’t Baby-Bat.”
“Don’t call me that.” Your venom surprises you. You haven’t heard that nickname in years and it brings out a visceral reaction. It’s what Jason used to call you in jest. Baby-Bird and Baby-Bat, heroes in training.
“Or what?” He challenges, shaking one of the wrist shackles, as though you’re not already well aware of your less-than-ideal predicament. “You’re in no position to be calling any shots, babe.”
“Not for long. Batman will save me, he’ll save the city.” He has too. “You won’t get away with this.”
“Ha.” Deathstroke’s sneer is dry. When you look over to him he gestures his head toward the top dog but you remain resolute in your refusal to look at him. “I’d keep that name out of your mouth, if you know what’s good for you.”
“Wh-“ The words are cut from you before you can get them out. The Arkham Knight, either pissed at your pitiful attempt at a power play, or the mention of Batman's name; lifts you and your chair completely by your throat, turning you mid-air, then placing you back down, precariously balancing you on the seats back legs before getting in your face. All the while his tight grasp on your neck never waivers.
Face hidden, tall, broad, he’s an intimidating sight. The whole display makes your heart race.
“He…” Red-hot rage drips from every word, and you feel your body temperature rising to meet it. “Can’t. Save. Shit.”
The sound of his ragged breathing is amplified by whatever tech he’s using to distort his voice. Each pant sends a shockwave through your body. And you press your legs together to suppress its effect.
“Get fucking comfy.” He barks as he releases you and stands back, watching as you heave for air and teeter wildly before willing the chair to balance on all fours. “Cause he’s not coming for you. Nobody is.”
“Case in point.” Deathstroke finally approaches. It takes his long legs less than 5 steps to reach your side. He stands about half a foot taller than the already gigantic Knight. The way in which they both tower almost impossibly tall makes you tremble, and you’ve no idea if they notice. You can’t stand the added authority they possess simply by being clothed and masked while you sit practically naked for them. Fear is one thing, you can handle being afraid, you’ve been trained for that, but their deliberate show of power, how they make you feel so fragile is awakening something you don’t know how to curb. “Take a look at your hero.”
A screen is thrust into your face, a live feed of a rooftop somewhere in Miagani Island. Batman is on his knees, fists pounding the floor. His mouth is moving but you can’t lip-read him from the angle. Clearly, he’s not okay. This isn’t like him, he must be dosed up on something. In the depths of your brain you know he’ll overcome it, he’ll save Barbara, you, everyone. But you can’t deny how dire things are beginning to look. The doubt must show on your face because The Arkham Knight's robotic voice lets out a short, cold laugh.
“Now you’re getting it.” The wicked pleasure he gets from teasing you is ten times worse than Deathstroke’s blatantly false niceties.
“W-why am I here?” You internally curse yourself for the way your voice breaks. It sparks you to muster a little more spunk as you keep questioning them. “You could have killed me, why didn't you? What do you want?”
“Bring us up to speed on what he knows.” Deathstroke poses. “His new hideout.”
“How he’s getting his gear patched up.” The Knight continues. Neither are looking at you, having turned the tablet back to themselves. “We know you know.”
When you don't respond The Knight slants his helmet upward to consider you, slowly cocking it to the side as you stare him down.
Eventually, Deathstroke follows suit. You wait until the device is tucked away, until you're certain you have their full attention to speak. “I won’t give in that easy.”
You keep your chin up as they turn to look at each other, but despite your bravado, you flinch when Deathstroke sharply drops into a crouched position. The rough fabric of his tactical gloves scratches the soft skin of your inner thigh as he wedges his fingers between your legs. You’d been pressing them closed, hiding how their interrogation had inadvertently been siring your arousal, but he pries them apart, shattering what little dignity you had left.
“Looks like he owes me another 10.” He nods at you before he turning back to the man in question. The Arkham Knight returns the look. Assholes, they’d bet on you. Now they’re having a silent conversation one in which you are the subject, but aren’t important enough to be privy to. Humiliating.
Finally, Deathstroke removes his hands, tracing them along your torso as he saunters behind you but before you can clasp your thighs back together The Knights boot comes down on your crotch, in a fast, precise motion. Pressing hard enough to make you keen and squirm. The chair rocks unsteadily beneath your withering.
“I thought you were better than this Baby-Bat.” No voice distortment can disguise his zeal. Something in the back of your brain suspects he’d been expecting, even hoping for this. And while you certainly hadn't been, you can't deny the sick intrigue you feel for whatever they have planned.
In shame you turn your head, screwing your eyes together as though blocking them out might make it all disappear. The grate of Deathstroke’s gloves on your face keeps you in the moment however, keeps your moral compass spinning.
“Gettin’ paid to break a cute thing like you.” He sounds wistful, gruff voice sinfully musing in your ear as he forces your head forward once more. “That’s a good day's work.”
“And you will break.” The determination in the Knight’s tone, the loudness of it has you peeking through your lids at his mask which is now inches from your face. Fear and excitement invoke a shiver that runs down your spine. “We’ll make you come apart, piece by piece, and we’ll enjoy every second.”
#anon#gilverranswers#thanks for the ask#jason todd/reader#jason todd x reader#ak jason todd#ak Jason todd/reader#arkham knight/reader#ak Jason Todd x Reader#arkham knight x reader#deathstroke/reader#deathstroke x reader#deathstroke#slade wilson/reader#slade wilson x reader#slade wilson#nsft#gilverrrambles#way more of a ramble than a fic#divider by @anitalenia#batbrat reader
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I'm a Grandpa! | Dad Alastor Headcannons
Familial! Alastor is Reader's Adopted Dad from life
Description: When you, Alastor's adopted child, end up in hell, he's surprised to find that you took in a kid of your own sometime after his death, making him a (not so enthusiastic) grandpa.
(Notes: CW Alastor, mentions of murder, death, violence) (gender neutral reader) (Reader is Alastor's adopted child) (Reader is an adult) (Reader has an adopted son in this)
Words: 1,249
♡ Alastor died before you did. You had been a young adult at the time, but you were still left pretty much on your own in the world after that
♡ Being the adopted kid of a now-known serial killer tended to be very isolating, so you moved to a new place and took on a new name and identity in order to avoid the negative effects of what your dad had done
♡ Being his child, Alastor had always loved you very much and you really looked up to him. While you'd never been a killer or committed any serious crimes, you liked to believe he'd had good reason for what he'd done, and so you'd continued looking up to him despite it all after his murders came to light
♡ Which is why, when one of the kids you were in charge of looking after at the daycare you worked at turned out to be in a bad home situation, you stepped up
♡ Alastor had adopted you at a very young age from a similar situation and you cared deeply about this child so you ended up taking them in yourself and becoming a parent that day
♡ Your kid was an absolute terror. Alastor had always said you reminded him so much of his mom with your sweet and calm nature, so you supposed it was only natural for your own son to remind you so much of his grandpa with his dramatic antics and slightly violent tendencies
♡ Luckily, you were very good at having the kid's behavior under control and he always listened to you. It was everyone else that needed to worry when he was around
♡ You always hoped that, wherever your dad had ended up after his death, he would have been proud of you for following in his footsteps like this and that he would have loved his grandson if he could have met him
♡ So when you and your son both died in a horrific accident and ended up in hell, one of the first things you did was go looking for your dad so the whole family could be together
♡ Alastor found you long before you would have found him and he happily reunited with you, his child, after so long
♡ Appeared out of nowhere, hugged you, began talking about how much he'd missed you and how good it was to see you again, only to then notice the little boy standing behind you and growling like a feral cat
♡ Assuming the kid had been planning to attack you, Alastor started using his powers to get rid of your son, who immediately fought back like the little animal he was, but you put a stop to it all before anyone could get hurt, shouting for both of them to cut it out
♡ They both froze and you took a deep breath before picking up your son and turning back to your dad, explaining that you'd adopted a child while alive and introducing them as grandfather and grandson
♡ Neither of them were happy about that reveal but since you seemed so excited about the family reunion, they both hid their disdain behind fake smiles
♡ "I see..." Alastor said as he wiped his hand on his suit after shaking your son's hand, "then I suppose it is a pleasure to meet you...Child."
♡ Your son barred his teeth at your dad and that became the start of a deep dislike between them
♡ After that, the three of you all moved into a home together within hell. Alastor had insisted on you living with him again, especially now that you 'had a charge of your own to support' and claimed he simply wanted the chance to spend more time with his child and new grandchild
♡ Yeah, right
♡ Alastor and your son are both very good at acting like they get along while in your presence, but the second your back is turned, they're at one another's throats
♡ He would never actually harm your kid because he knows you would kill him if he did. However, that doesn't mean he won't 'defend himself' if your son attacks him so he takes it upon himself to provoke the child as much as possible and is quite good at it
♡ Several times, you've left Alastor in charge of watching your son while you went out, only to come home to the house nearly on fire. When you find them, they act like they just got carried away baking some treats but it's not hard to tell that that's a lie
♡ You routinely remind them both of how much you want them to get along and they both always claim that they do but it's a complete lie
♡ For how much Alastor loves and adores you, his own kid, he finds that he probably hates your son just as much
♡ You mentioned it to Rosie once when the three of you came to visit her in Cannibal Town and she said it's probably because the two of them are just too similar. Your son, in many ways, is like a younger version of Alastor and that's probably what gets on his nerves so much. That, and the fact that he feels his grandchild takes up way too much of your time and attention
♡ It's not until the two of them gain a common enemy that they finally find a way to be civil
♡ You had never dated much in life, either because of your slightly overbearing father or, later, your slightly overbearing son. Maybe you were never interested in it anyway
♡ But now that you're in hell, you end up finding someone you like enough to make your partner (whether romantic, queerplatonic, or anything else) and then that person starts taking your time away from both of them
♡ Common Enemy: Unlocked
♡ Now Alastor and your son find that they both hate your partner and want them gone so they reluctantly begin working together to subtly get rid of/scare them off
♡ Whenever your partner is over, they'll split up so that one of them makes an excuse to spend time with you while the other goes to your partner. One makes sure to keep you distracted while the other promptly terrorizes your partner in ways no one will believe them if they tell
♡ This goes on for a while, and eventually, between their shared chaotic natures, it works and your partner breaks things off with you
♡ And guess who's there to support you as you mourn the loss of the relationship? Your two favorite men who definitely didn’t plan this at all
♡ Cue them both in a group hug with you but behind your back they exchange glances with one another and Alastor nods approvingly
♡ Even though he still doesn’t really like your kid and feels like he has to compete with him for your time, the kid’s earned his approval today
♡ And who knows? Maybe if your son cares almost as much (he could never beat your dad as far as how much he loves you) as him, maybe there will be more times in the future in which the two of them work together to ‘protect’ you
♡ Either way, your son is safe from the anger of his grandpa, at least for now, and vice versa
……….
One shot based on this
#dadastor#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbinhotel#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel headcanon#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel platonic#platonic reader insert#platonic x reader#platonic relationships#platonic alastor x reader#alastor x daughter reader#alastor#alastor x child reader#alastor x son reader#parent reader#father!alastor#grandpa alastor
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automattic vs wp engine mastterpost
adrienne's GitHub recap is probably the best place to see a comprehensive timeline of what's going down. it's been kept up to date. my (very out of date) previous writeup is here.
what's happened/other links
Matt has not logged off, just switched platforms, so there's lots on X/Twitter, Reddit, and Hacker News. it's really not worth wading through.
WP Engine actually filed suit.
the complaint includes some truly remarkable screenshots of Matt trying to blackmail the CEO of WP Engine.
which... personally i would not happily work for someone who just blackmailed me while not even my boss, but that's just me. he hasn't denied this at all, in fact confirming on Hacker News:
I haven't doxxed any private texts from other parties like they have. [source]
and, notably,
I even invited her to my 40th birthday on Jan 11, another text message she decided not to share. [source]
this gives me the creeps. in the context of the rest of the way he's talking to her, and the ways in which he's interacted with women in general, it's. not great.
also he slid into an ex-employee (also a woman)'s DMs asking why she was being mean to him bc he'd never been nothing but nice to her, while also making legal threats. so y'know, pattern of behaviour.
a good writeup of the social side of things
if you don't care so much about the open-source stuff, Steph Lundberg's writeup is, like her previous one on Matt's Tumblr meltdown, pretty solid and people-focused.
Mullenweg has already demonstrated egregious lapses in judgment and abuses of power, it’s just that up until now he’s wielded his power against vulnerable populations without access to high-powered lawyers and their own massive platforms.
a more technical writeup
this one is melodramatic in the same ways Matt was (uses war terminology), which i don't agree with, and which led to some... internal arguments at Automattic. that part's not my story to tell, but a little more on that later. it's a solid writeup of the actual WordPress side of things. there's some seriously dodgy trademark behaviour going on here.
of note: this blogger locked comments on his post:
and then Matt, uh, found a way around that:
wild!
10% of Automattic leaves
that's a link to Matt's blog post. here's an Internet Archive link.
in short, staff were offered a severance deal of the higher of $30k or six months' salary. while that's very generous, it's still very risky in today's tech market, especially (for the same reasons i mentioned when Matt was melting down on here) for people outside the US, people who need the health insurance, or people with young kids. despite that, 10% decided with very little notice (they had two days to decide) to leave.
However now, I feel much lighter. I’m grateful and thankful for all the people who took the offer, and even more excited to work with those who turned down $126M to stay. As the kids say, LFG!
i'm thrilled to see some of my ex-colleagues make it out. i'm keeping the rest who have stayed on in my thoughts. i don't know anyone who's wholesale shilling for Matt.
Matt's been pressuring staff to post in support of him, @-ing the entire company to vote on Twitter polls in his favor, and so on. many of the people who stayed have written blog posts about it, all starting with "I stayed". people on social media have pointed out the very clear pattern of Automatticians jumping into discourse to defend Matt, and it doesn't look good.
i don't have a lot to say about those posts, except to highlight Jeffrey Zeldman, whose "I stayed" post is perhaps one of the more honest ones. (his Rodney King reference was in poor taste, and he... i don't like his role at automattic, tbc) but like. he's nearly 70. he helped shape the modern internet and develop its accessibility standards. he has often put his neck on the line for disabled staff who don't have as much clout as he does. given the financial troubles he talks about and the state of this market and how old he is, i personally have read between the lines of what he's saying in a particular way.
fuck, man. i'm sad. i'm sad for all my friends who are creaking under the strain and watching others leave but who can't do that. i'm sad that many of them are left in teams which are half-empty or divisions where significant senior leadership are just gone, with no time to document what they had in progress.
i'm sad for Josepha Haden Chomphosy, the former executive director of the WordPress Foundation, who was dealing with a personal emergency and ended up having to miss WordCamp US (where Matt started publicly starting shit with WPE). she came back from that to a gigantic fire in the community she's invested a decade of careful, Matt-negotiating, stewardship to, and decided to take the severance offer. she deserved better.
other things Matt's been up to
mostly linking to comments or posts which compile things here, bc it's too scattered otherwise.
blocking people from the official WordPress X account if they disapprove of his actions.
publicly talking about a vulnerability in ACF, a plugin WPE maintains, which could put thousands of sites at risk. this is not normal, and he met with so much horror even from current staff that he deleted his post.
saying he comes across badly because he's "a little ASD", which is driving me personally up the fucking wall. he's never once said it before and he really is turning into Temu Elon.
generally bragging that he still has more planned. jesus fucking christ
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continually saying that WPE's suit is against WordPress.org and the community, which is not true. on which note, his pinned tweet is certainly something:
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his choice of lawyer is uh. the kind of guy to defend nestle against literal child slaves.
as always, while i think WordPress crumbling will disproportionately affect websites in poorer parts of the world, there are certainly tyrants who are causing much more immediate and potent suffering. if you've read this far, please do send anything you have spare to gazafunds.com.
#long post#automattic#tumblr meta#this is not a complete writeup. adrienne's link does better#but here's a few things of interest to tumblr probably ig#tony muses
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4th Batch: The Guardians!
[Blank Scripts AU (non-canonical)]
Inside the deeper layers of the Parable marches the sinister army of monsters, born from the flesh of the Dungeon itself.
Alongside them are human workers, learning to cooperate with these beasts and come together for one purpose.
To protect and nurture the Parable.
BATCH LIST:
- [1st Batch: The Inhabitants] - [2nd Batch: The Janitors] - [3rd Batch: The Citizens] - [4th Batch: The Guardians]
↓ [Thoughts and Credits below] ↓
The fourth illustration is complete after a long, long time!!
Excuse how long it took me to do this one by the way, I have things to do IRL and my own projects to complete [very excited to finish those by the way, it's been so long since I've posted a new AMV hehe] so it took me a while to have the spare time and come back to the OCs / Self Inserts!
Anyway, I'll try disciplining myself to draw more of the submitted characters! I have 4 more batches [19 characters] to draw, so please be patient with me! >﹏<
I swear I haven't forgotten about anyone! I've just been busy, hahaha.
Suru by @tsuru-yasunaga
ARRGHGHHH I REALLY LOVE THIS OMG?? I can totally see her working in the deeper layers of the Dungeon alongside the monsters ARGHH crazy I'm crazy [AND DON'T THINK I DON'T SEE THAT BLACK CAT LOGO ON HER SUIT ARGHHH SO COOL STOP]!!!?? I love that she has an axe, so badass...
Widget by @adventurecrimez
OUH??? Our little platelet doctor!! This reminds me so much about that one anime, Cells at Work... Anyway, I LOVE THEM!! They're so cute and helpful to have around <3
Axl by @tumbling-turmoil
AHEHEHE LITTLE GUY LITTLE GUY!!! For such a cute-looking thing, it sure has a very ominous-sounding title... The all-powerful Axl, decider of Fate.. bowing
Horns by @idunnowhattowriteheretbh
HWUAHE I LOVE THIS THING SO MUCH YOU HAVE NO IDEA this is making my creachure-loving brain go uueueueuw looking at this thing with big teary eyes btw I loved drawing their horns [haha funny name pun but yeah I actually did like drawing the horns btw :3]
Nugget by @thenamesmobu
This stinky old mannn, this creatuureee, this gruffy guuyyy hhehwuew he's so silly and he looks so cute but imagining him with a gruff old man voice will never not be funny to me
Abhorrence by @commit-vehicular-manslaughter
OOUHH?!??!! It's missing a leg... poor thing.. I also lived drawing this thing, it feels like a monster I'd see in the woods or something argh... a cryptid.. THE SKULL HEAD IS SO COOL PLEASE
Legal Distinct Bug by @test-url-please-ignore
hehehe little bug, I'm gonna make this thing into a marketable plushy, I will squish this thing very lovingly it's so BIG and it's so FLUFFY and it looks so CUTE I just wanna AGRHAWGGHAEGA let that thing crawl all over me please
#tsp blank scripts au#blank scripts oc#blank scripts self insert#tsp au#tsp oc#the stanley parable#the stanley parable ultra deluxe#tsp#tspud#tsp artists appreciation#my drawing museum
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♡ 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐛𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐧 ♡
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TW: ftm reader, afab anatomy, non con, v!sex, forced feminization, kidnapping, manipulation, praise, use of powers, power play, unprotected sex, degradation, fingering, hard sex, overstimulation, dark themes, breed!kink, porn plot.
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'Easily manipulated' was a word that summed up your persona for the grandmaster, he could see your gentle and sweet nature, which made him feel like it would be so easy to take advantage of you like that.
𝐓𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦.
Just thinking about it drove him crazy. Bi Han can feel that his pupils are dilating just by looking at you - This showed him how much you affect him, so his already corrupted mind thought of the safest and quickest plan of having your soul and body all to himself... Kidnapping.
It was easy to convince you to be alone with your kind leader... And right after a cup of green tea, everything went dark, and with an unbearable headache you woke up naked in a big, unfamiliar bed - with your breasts hanging out, and your wrists tied. over your head, wearing white lace panties, your body was hot and your mind was in a confusing blur - until you heard the door slam, and saw bi han walk in, but before you had any hope of the ninja being there to save you... You saw the crooked smile painted on his lips, you had no escape there - his gauze filled with dark desire as he continued to massage your soft skin, his hands caressing every inch of your exposed body. His touch was both gentle and possessive, like a predator savoring its prey.
"-You are so beautiful... a little prince, I did exactly what I wanted to do. I brought you here to indulge in your deepest desires," he whispered huskily, his breath tickling your ear. "-I can feel how hot you are, how wet and needy. It's as if your body is aching for my touch." His fingers trailed down your stomach, tracing circles around your navel before sliding lower, closer to your glistening heat.
"-I've fantasized about your moans, your desperate cries for more. And now, I'm going to make those fantasies a reality." With that, he dipped his fingers into your wetness, his eyes never leaving yours. He started with a slow, torturous pace, savoring every gasp and whimper that escaped your lips. His touch was expert, his fingers dancing skillfully over your swollen clit. "-You're so responsive," he purred, savoring the sweet sounds you made. "-Just like I imagined. Such a good little slut for me."
You moaned as your body betrayed your mind, you wanted to scream, cry and push the cyromancer away from you - but the bonds and his thick, cold fingers deliciously stretched every bit of your cunt. You mumbled a few words, feeling the lace fabric brush against your fingers, the pain and discomfort of being exposed were disappearing in your core.
"-You don't understand how much power you hold over me," he whispered, his voice filled with raw lust. "-Every time I see you, I ache to touch you, to taste you. Your body, your essence, it drives me wild." he added a second finger, stretching you to accommodate him - your moans growing louder as your orgasm built within you.
He watched your every reaction, his arousal evident in the bulge straining against his pants. You accumulated a little of your conscience, even with the eminent pleasure that accumulated there, closing your thighs and kicking the older man, but the dreaded 'sub zero' wasn't going to let a little boy like you deny him, on the contrary, that made him even more excited - after all, he was not one to shy away from his desires, nor was he afraid to manipulate the situation to suit his needs.
"-I can always take what I want... by force." He cupped your breasts in his hands, his touch possessive and demanding. He kneaded and squeezed, his fingers pinching your sensitive nipples. "-Do you really think you can outrun me, defy me? Your body, your very soul, calls out for my possession. I can feel it, just as surely as I can feel your wetness against my fingers." he tore your lacy panties apart, exposing your wet and swollen pussy to the cool air, his gaze locking onto your delicate folds.
"-I'll show you just how much of a prince you can be," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "-You crave my cock, don't you my little prince?" Bi Han positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock grazing against your folds. The anticipation was almost unbearable, both for him and for you. He relished in the knowledge that he could give you pleasure like no one else could.
"-You can resist me all you want, but I'll break down every wall, every defense you have until you're begging for more. You're mine, whether you like it or not." Without warning, he thrust into you with a powerful force, claiming your tight, wet heat in one swift movement - you feel him stretching you, filling you completely. He groaned in approval, his eyes locking with yours, as his hips began to move. The grandmaster smirked cruelly, relishing in the power and control he had over your delicate body - reveled in the lewd scene, watching as your pussy clenched and winked around his cock, he could see the need in your eyes, despite your attempts to resist.
Bi Han's thrusts quickened once again, his strength and stamina evident as he pounded into you, "-You're trying to resist, but your body betrays you. Your moans, the way your sweet pussy clenches around me, it screams surrender." He relished in the sounds of your moans and cries of pleasure, his own groans intertwining with yours.
"-I'm going to fuck you senseless, make you come untouched, until there's nothing left but a trembling, submissive mess." He paused mid-thrust, his cock still buried deep inside you, and leaned down towards your ear. His breath was cold against your skin, sending shivers of fear down your spine.
"-I can feel how wet you are, how close you are to breaking, my little slut..." he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "-And when you do, I want you to scream my name. Scream it loud enough for everyone to hear." The words hung in the air, heavy with their meaning. He wasn't just talking about sex; he was claiming ownership, marking you as his. And as if to emphasize his point, he thrust deeper than ever before, hitting an angle that made you cry out.
"-You see, my little boy? No matter how much you resist, no matter what lies you tell yourself, deep down, you crave this... You always wanted me to abuse that cute pussy of yours, didn't you?" Sub zero thrust deeper, his cock hitting an angle inside you that made everything around you blur. The sensation was overwhelming, but in the best possible way. It was like he had unlocked some hidden part of yourself, a dark and twisted desire that had been lying dormant until now. "-Tell me," he demanded, his voice rough with need. "-Do you want my seed inside you? Do you crave the thought of being pregnant by me?"
"Fuck no" was the last thing you said before your orgasm hit, a wave of pleasure so intense that it almost blinded you. But instead of repulsion or disgust, all you felt was a raw, primal need for more. "-Yes... You crave it. You want my seed inside you... Such a good boy." his voice filled with triumph.
His words were fuel to the fire, making your body tremble with unbridled lust. And as he spoke, he came too, his cum mixing with yours, creating a messy, wet bond between you two. As the intensity of your orgasms subsided, reality began to seep back into your minds. You found yourself wrapped in his arms, your body still wet from your combined fluids. And despite everything that had happened, despite the manipulation, there was an undeniable connection between you two.
"-I didn't mean for it to be like this... But I couldn't resist you…"
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🌸 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 "𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐧" 🌸
𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐨𝐦!𝐛𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐧
𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐮𝐩 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐧
𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐧
𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐧
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𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓼 𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓿𝓮𝓭 ©𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵 2024. 𝓭𝓸 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓬𝓸𝓹𝔂, 𝓻𝓮𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓼𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓮
#yanderestarangel#afab reader#tw smut#mortal kombat#mortal kombat fandom#mortal kombat fanfiction#mortal kombat x reader#mortal kombat smut#bi han x reader#mk1#bi han x ftm reader#bi han#bi han x male reader#bi han x afab reader#bi han x y/n#bi han smut#sub zero x reader#sub zero smut#sub zero x ftm reader#sub zero x male reader#yandere themes#dark smut#mk1 smut#mk1 x male reader#yandere bi han#yandere mortal kombat#yandere sub zero#yandere male#ftm!reader#yandere x male reader
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Reconnaissance
"You're gonna love the new office, man," Mike said, slapping his friend Alex on the back as they strolled through the early morning park.
Alex nodded, his eyes glazed with a blend of excitement and dread. "Just don't let it be anything like the last place. You remember how Janet from accounting always smelled like... burnt toast?"
Mike chuckled. "Yeah, but think of the perks! Free coffee and maybe a gym membership. Plus, we're moving up in the world, right?"
Alex forced a smile, his mind racing with the long list of potential horrors the new office might hold. "Right," he said, trying to sound more convincing than he felt.
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As they cut across Lafayette Park, the air grew thick with the scent of blooming flowers and the distant hum of city traffic. The sun had just begun to rise, casting a soft, warm glow across the dewy grass. They quickened their pace, their shoes crunching the gravel as they weaved through the quiet paths.
In the distance, Alex spotted a young twink walking a fluffy Pomeranian on a hot pink leash. The dog's prancing steps and cheerful yaps echoed through the stillness of the early hour. His owner's lithe frame and bouncy step mirrored the dog's energy, his blond hair reflecting the light like a halo around his head. Alex couldn't help but feel a pang of envy; the twink's carefree demeanor was a stark contrast to the knot in his own stomach.
Under the shade of a nearby grove of palm trees, two handsome gay men had laid out a picnic blanket. They sat cross-legged, sipping from matching travel mugs, their laughter spilling out like music as they shared stories and smiles. The scent of freshly baked bread and the faint aroma of a citrus fruit salad wafted through the air, making Alex's stomach rumble. One of them, a dark-haired Adonis with a five o'clock shadow, leaned over to kiss his partner's cheek, leaving a smudge of lip balm. The other, a fair-skinned man with a sculpted jaw, playfully swiped at his cheek with a napkin, his eyes sparkling with affection.
The muscular man doing calisthenics nearby was a vision of discipline and vitality. His t-shirt clung to his body like a second skin, revealing the contours of his chiseled abs as he executed perfect push-ups, his body moving with the grace of a dancer. Each grunt and exhale resonated through the park, a symphony of effort and strength that seemed to charge the very air around him. He paused briefly to wipe the sweat from his brow with the hem of his shirt, and Alex felt a strange attraction, a yearning to be that powerful, that unabashedly masculine.
Mike broke the silence with a sigh. "You know, I've been thinking..."
Alex looked at him expectantly, his eyes flicking from the calisthenics god back to his friend. "Yeah?"
Mike took a deep breath, his gaze drifting to the distant office buildings. "I think this job is gonna be a game-changer for us. It's like we're stepping into the big leagues."
Alex nodded in agreement, his eyes lingering on the glowing skyscrapers in the horizon. "It's just... I don't know, I'm a little nervous about starting over."
Mike clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll kill it, buddy. You're the smartest guy I know. And hey, if all else fails, at least you'll look great in a new suit."
Alex chuckled, trying to ignore the rustling he heard from the bushes by the park gates. It was probably just a squirrel or some early morning joggers. But as the sound grew louder, his heart began to race. He swallowed hard, his eyes darting towards the commotion.
"Mike, do you see that?" Alex whispered, pointing at the shadows that seemed to be moving with purpose.
Mike squinted, his eyes following the line of Alex's finger. "What? The bushes? Maybe it's just a raccoon."
Alex didn't take his eyes off the spot. The rustling grew louder, and the black outline grew more defined, shifting into the shape of a human figure. He swallowed hard. "I think we should go," he said, his voice quivering slightly.
Mike rolled his eyes. "You're seeing things, man. It's just the jitters." He slapped Alex on the back again, a bit too hard this time. "You're just nervous about the new gig. Relax."
But Alex couldn't shake off the unease. The sound grew closer, and suddenly, the man doing calisthenics by the palm trees was jolted mid-push-up. He glanced around, his eyes wide with surprise and confusion, before a flash of black engulfed him, and he was yanked into the bushes. The scene unfolded so swiftly that Alex could barely believe his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum.
"Mike, did you see that?" Alex hissed, his eyes wide with horror.
Mike, who had been scrolling through his phone, looked up with a frown. "See what?"
Alex pointed at the spot where the muscular man had been moments before, his finger trembling slightly. "The guy, the one doing push-ups," he whispered urgently.
Mike followed his gaze, his eyes squinting in confusion. "What about him?"
Alex's jaw dropped. "He's... changed." The man who'd been doing push-ups had emerged from the bushes, his muscles bulging, his skin gleaming with a sheen of sweat. The once-tight t-shirt looked painted on, stretched to its limits by his newfound size. The sleeves had been ripped clean off, and his biceps flexed with the power of a dozen men.
Mike squinted. "You're not serious, right? Did you have a little too much to drink last night?"
Alex's heart raced as he watched the bulked-up figure strut out of the foliage, a cocky smile on his changed face. "No, Mike, look!" Alex's voice was barely above a whisper, fear coating his words. But Mike was too absorbed in his screen to notice. Alex's eyes were glued to the man, who was now flexing his arms, the veins popping out like electric cords. The skin on the man's face was taut, as if it didn't quite fit. He used his fingers to smooth it out, stretching his cheeks and nose, his eyes flickering with something that wasn't entirely human. It was like watching someone put on a Halloween costume, except this costume was made of flesh and bone.
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Without warning, the man lifted his arm and sniffed his own pit. The gesture was so casual, so unexpectedly intimate in this bizarre context, that Alex felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment. But the man's reaction was anything but natural. His eyes lit up with something akin to hunger. He whistled sharply, the sound piercing the quiet morning air. Alex's blood turned to ice as he realized the whistle wasn't a mere signal—it was a call to arms.
Three figures bolted out of the bushes, each one more terrifying than the last. They were marines, or at least they looked like marines, but something was off. Their uniforms were a shiny, almost wet-looking black rubber, reflecting the early light like a trio of inky pools. Each one was as muscular as the man who'd first emerged, their bodies bulging and stretching the material to its limits. The smell hit Alex next—a heady mix of sweat, rubber, and something faintly chemical. It was overwhelmingly male, overwhelmingly potent.
Alex's instincts took over and he darted behind a park bench, his heart hammering in his chest. The twink with the Pomeranian was frozen in place, the dog barking frantically at the newcomers. The two lovers on the picnic blanket had gone silent, their laughter replaced by the clatter of their dropped mugs. Alex watched as the marines fanned out, their eyes scanning the park, searching.
Mike, still oblivious, was scrolling through his phone. "What's going on, Alex?"
Alex's voice was a choked whisper. "Hide!"
Mike looked up from his phone, his brows furrowed in confusion. "What are you—"
Before he could finish his sentence, a sinewy Latino marine with a buzzcut and a gleaming smile swooped down on him like a hawk on a field mouse. Alex's heart lurched into his throat as the marine's rubbery hands wrapped around Mike's shoulders, pulling him into a tight embrace. The marine's skin was stretched so tautly over his bulging muscles that it looked ready to tear at any moment, and the scent of him was intoxicating—like a mix of new rubber and a locker room after an intense workout. Alex's mind reeled, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.
The marine lifted one of his thick arms, bringing it under Mike's nose. Mike's eyes widened, his body stiffening as he took in the aroma. The twink looked on, his eyes wide with terror, his Pomeranian barking hysterically as it tried to pull him away. The marine's pit was a cavern of sweat and power, a scent so potent it seemed to silence the very air around them. Mike's struggling ceased, his eyes glazed over with a strange mix of fear and fascination. The marine's grin grew wider as he pushed his arm closer, the sound of fabric brushing against flesh muffling Mike's muffled protests.
The twink's eyes darted around, looking for an escape as the second marine approached him. The man was a mountain of muscle, his rubbery skin flexing with every step. The twink's lithe frame was no match for the marine's bulk, and he was easily picked up despite his flailing limbs. The marine brought his own bulging arm to the twink's nose, the musky scent of his armpit enveloping the smaller man's face. The twink's struggles grew weaker, his body going slack as he breathed in the heady fragrance.
With surprising agility, the marine hoisted the twink above his head. The twink's legs kicked wildly, his shorts riding up to expose a peek of his jockstrap. The marine took advantage of the moment, yanking the shorts down to reveal the twink's bare ass, pale and unblemished in the early light. Alex's heart raced as the marine leaned closer, his grin widening to reveal a mouthful of gleaming white teeth. The twink's eyes grew huge with fear as he realized what was happening.
The marine's arms grew wet, as if lubricated by some unseen substance, and he pushed both hands into the twink's gaping mouth. Alex watched, his stomach churning, as the marine's forearms stretched and distorted, sliding into the twink's hole with a series of obscene, wet sounds. The twink's eyes bulged, his cheeks puffed out like a blowfish as the marine's rubbery limbs disappeared into his body. The marine's shoulders and biceps followed, his skin stretching like taffy as it squeezed through the twink's tight opening.
Alex's gaze snapped back to Mike, who had dropped his phone, his eyes locked on Alex with a look of horror. The Latino marine had one hand wrapped around the back of Mike's neck, the other buried in his throat. Mike's face was reddening as the marine's arms pushed deeper into his body, his throat stretching and bulging with each sickening inch. Alex could see the outline of the marine's muscular forearms moving beneath Mike's skin, like a pair of serpents wriggling under a taut blanket. The marine's smile never wavered, his teeth gleaming as he pushed in further, his body seemingly compressing as it forced its way into Mike's.
The sound of the twink's moans grew louder, his body convulsing as the marine continued to stretch and squeeze himself inside. The rubbery limbs slithered and squelched, his massive boots disappearing into the twink's body with a wet pop. Alex's stomach churned, his mind reeling as he watched the two men be consumed by these monstrous intruders.
Mike's eyes grew wild, his hands grasping at the marine's arms as they bulged through his skin. The marine's boots slid into his mouth, the rubbery material stretching and suctioning into Mike's maw entirely. The smell hit Alex like a truck—sweat, rubber, and musk—as Mike's nose and mouth were filled with the soldier's scent. Alex's vision swam with horror as Mike's body grew taut, his shirt tearing at the seams as the marine's torso pushed into his.
The marine's legs began to slide downward, his rubbery thighs thickening as they squeezed into Mike's skinny legs. The fabric of Mike's pants split open as the marine's muscles bulged through, the sound of his shoes bursting echoing through the silent park. Mike's feet ballooned into the same gigantic size as the marine's, the stink of rubber and sweat now emanating from his soles.
Alex's horror grew as the marine's head started to stretch up into Mike's throat as his features stretched and distorted. The marine's hands, now fully inside Mike's, began to manipulate his body like a puppeteer, making him flex and pose unnaturally. Mike's eyes rolled back in his head, his face a mask of pain and bewilderment as his arms grew longer and bulkier, the marine filling him out like a balloon animal. Alex watched, frozen with fear, as the marine's hands slipped into Mike's, thick and powerful, his knuckles popping out like those of a heavyweight boxer.
The marine's head suctioned into Mike's, the skin of their faces merging like molten wax. Alex's stomach lurched as he saw Mike's nose flatten and widen, his cheekbones become more pronounced, and his jawline square off. His face grew more defined, the skin on Mike's body tightening over the new, more muscular structure beneath.
The transformation was complete when the marine's head disappeared entirely, and Mike's body jolted upright. The once-slender frame was now a powerhouse of bulging muscles and sinew, the new occupant flexing and stretching his new form. Mike's eyes snapped open, but they were no longer Mike's; they were the piercing, steely gaze of the marine. Across the park the twink's soft, pouty mouth was replaced by the marine's firm, commanding one, and his voice had deepened to a gruff growl. He looked down at his now-massive chest and flexed, the former twink's lithe body now a canvas of thick, bulging biceps and a washboard stomach. His legs had thickened into tree trunks, and his ass was now a round, muscular shelf that would make any gym-goer weep with envy.
The other marines, now fully inside their hosts, strutted over, their rubbery skin glinting in the early sun. The possessed civilian men had morphed into a pack of hyper-masculine soldiers, their movements coordinated and powerful. They gathered around the picnic blanket, where the two lovers were now bulging masses of muscle and sweat, their former selves indistinguishable. The dark-haired man, now a towering brute, flexed his arms, the fair-skinned man's delicate wrists and hands now thick and veined, his fingers curling into fists that could crush rocks.
Alex watched, his hand clamped over his mouth to stifle the scream building in his chest. He was transfixed by the transformation, his eyes flicking between the new marines. They slapped each other's backs, their high-fives reverberating through the silent park. The men's laughter was deep and gruff, the sound of a frat house after a workout montage. The twink, his body now a muscular behemoth, bent over, his massive glutes flexing as he picked up his tiny dog. The Pomeranian yipped in his new owner's oversized hand, tail wagging with excitement or fear, Alex couldn't tell.
He knew he had to do something, had to get help. His trembling hand reached into his pocket for his phone. But before he could even grasp it, a shadow fell over him, the scent of rubber and sweat overwhelming. He looked up to find the final marine towering over him, his grin wild and his eyes glinting with mischief. The man was the most muscular of the group, his rubbery skin stretched tight over bulging biceps and a chest that looked like it could stop a truck. The smell coming off him was far more pungent than the others—like a gym locker stuffed with week-old workout gear.
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"Looks like you're the last one," the marine said, his voice a gruff taunt. Alex felt a cold shiver of fear run down his spine, his hand tightening around his phone. But before he could even think of dialing, the marine grabbed him by the head, his thick, gloved fingers digging into his scalp.
"Take a deep breath, boy," the marine ordered, his voice a gravelly purr. Alex's nose was shoved into the damp bulge of his crotch, the smell of his sweat-drenched latex making him gag. The scent was a noxious cloud of cheesy funk, ripe and thick, and it filled Alex's nostrils like a punch. His eyes watered, and he tried to squirm away, but the marine's grip was like a vice.
"Good boy," the marine grunted, his calloused hands wrenching Alex's face closer to the damp crotch of his rubbery armor. Alex's nostrils flared as he was forced to inhale deeply, the cheesy reek of the marine's sweat so potent it seemed to coat the back of his throat. The scent was overpowering, a miasmic cloud of testosterone and rubber that filled the air around them. With every breath, Alex felt his panic ebbing, his muscles unclenching despite the horror of the situation. It was as if the very essence of this alien creature was seeping into him, calming him, dominating him. "Take another," the marine ordered, his voice a gruff rumble that seemed to resonate in Alex's very bones.
Alex obeyed, his eyes watering as he took another deep, shuddering inhale. The smell was thick, a heady mix of male pheromones and something... else. It was alien, yet strangely alluring, and his cock began to stir in his pants despite the fear coursing through his veins. The marine chuckled, his laughter a deep rumble that seemed to resonate through the very ground beneath them. "You like that, don't you?" he sneered, his grip tightening. "You're going to love what I've got in store for you."
The marine leaned in closer, his hot breath fanning across Alex's cheek. "You know, I've always wondered what it would be like to be inside a little queer like you." He whispered, his words dripping with malice. "I bet you're all about that musk, aren't you?" Alex couldn't form words, his brain fogging over with the overwhelming scent. His eyes glazed over, and his thoughts grew hazy, the only thing clear was the marine's smell.
With a grin that was all teeth and no kindness, the marine announced, "Alright, I'm going in." He didn't bother with finesse, shoving his arms into Alex's gaping mouth. Alex felt the stretch and burn of his throat widening, his body desperately trying to reject this intrusion, but it was no use. The rubbery limbs pushed deeper, the marine's skin sliding into his own with a wet, stretching sound that seemed to echo in his ears.
Panic set in as the marine's bulging biceps filled his mouth, his thick wrists brushing the back of his throat. The scent of rubber and sweat grew stronger, filling Alex's nose and throat, but instead of fear, he felt something else—a strange, overwhelming euphoria. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced, a warmth that spread from his core outwards, wrapping him in a blanket of pure, unadulterated pleasure. He tried to scream, to resist, but all that came out was a muffled moan, his voice lost to the thickness of the marine's arms.
The marine's grin grew wider, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light as he pushed further, his chest and abs slithering into Alex's body like a serpent made of muscle and sweat. Alex's own skin stretched and bulged, the marine's rubbery flesh seeping into him, filling him out with a newfound strength and power. His throat convulsed around the thick torso, his body betraying him with a shiver of pleasure.
The other marines watched with rapt attention, their eyes alight with excitement. One of them, a blond giant who'd been a middle-aged office worker mere moments ago, let out a low whistle. "Looks like Cap found a nice, snug fit," he quipped, his voice a deep bass that seemed to rumble through the ground.
Alex felt his throat stretch and expand to accommodate the marine's thick boots, the rubber squeaking and popping as it slithered down his gullet. The smell was indescribable—like a football field after a rainstorm, mixed with the pungency of a gym that hadn't been aired out in weeks. Yet, as the boots disappeared into his body, the feeling of power that had begun in his throat grew stronger, spreading through him like a wildfire. His eyes rolled back in his head as the marine's legs pushed into his, the fabric of his pants stretching to the point of tearing.
The captain chuckled, his voice a deep bass that seemed to resonate through Alex's very soul. "You're taking it like a champ," he murmured, his words vibrating through the rubber that was now Alex's flesh. The other marines had gathered around, their new, muscular forms flexing and stretching in the early morning light. They were like a pack of wolves, eager to see their alpha take his new form.
Alex's body convulsed as the captain's head pushed into his, the sound of skin stretching and popping like bubble wrap. His own eyes widened with terror as the captain's face pushed through his, his features distorting into something monstrous. The captain's eyes were cold, calculating, his smile a sadistic sneer as he took over Alex's terrified expression. "Ohhh fuck yeah, that's what I'm talking about," the captain groaned, his voice now a deep, resonant bass that seemed to shake the very air.
The Captain's new body was a cacophony of sensations—his skin tight and stretched, his muscles bulging and pulsing with unnatural power. The smell from the captain's pits was a potent cocktail of sweat and rubber, so intense it was almost tangible. It filled his nose and lungs, a scent so thick and overpowering that it was like breathing in pure male virility. His stomach churned with a mix of fear and arousal, his cock hardening against his will.
The other marines, their own host bodies now fully under their control, gathered around, their grins stretching from ear to ear. The blond giant that used to be Mike slapped the captain on the back, his hand landing with a wet slap against the rubbery flesh. "Looks like the captain's got himself a hard-on for the job," he jeered, his voice now a deep baritone that seemed to resonate through the air.
Alex felt his own cock stiffen against his will, the alien presence inside him controlling his body's responses. The captain chuckled darkly, his rubbery hands reaching down to palm the bulge that had formed in Alex's pants. "Oh, you like that, don't you?" he chided, his voice now a deep, gruff taunt that seemed to resonate through Alex's very soul. "You want a taste of this?"
The blond giant, who was once Mike, took a step closer, his own bulging muscles shifting and flexing with a grace that seemed almost inhuman. He leaned in and slapped the captain's bulging crotch playfully. "Hey, Cap," he drawled, a wicked glint in his eyes, "Don't go forgetting we gotta keep that tongue of yours for the ladies." The former twink's voice had deepened into a bass that seemed to rumble from the very earth.
The captain, now fully ensconced in Alex's body, grinned wickedly, his rubbery fingers still wrapped around Alex's thickening cock. "Don't worry, I'm just breaking it in," he said, his voice a deep growl that sent shivers down Alex's spine. "But once we're done here, I'm definitely going to be plowing some pussy with this queer cock."
Alex felt his body responding against his will, his dick growing harder and thicker with every twist of the captain's hand. His mind was a whirlwind of fear and confusion, but the alien presence inside him was growing stronger, overwhelming his thoughts with images of power and dominance. The other marines watched with hungry eyes, their own bulges growing as they awaited their orders.
The captain stepped back, his hand still wrapped around Alex's cock. "Alright, men," he barked, his voice a command that seemed to echo through the deserted park. "Recon mission begins now. Keep a low profile in those fleshsuits until we spot our target."
The other marines snapped to attention, their eyes gleaming with excitement. "Sir, yes sir!" they barked in unison, their deep, gruff voices bouncing off the surrounding trees. With a nod from the captain, they dispersed, their bulging muscles rippling as they moved in a coordinated fashion that seemed almost inhuman. They melded into the early-morning shadows, becoming a silent, lethal force of nature.
Alex's heart raced as he felt the alien presence in his body take control, his own thoughts receding into the background. He was just a passenger in his own flesh, a silent observer to the horror unfolding. The captain's gaze swept over the empty park before settling on the street beyond. A beautiful woman, her hips swaying in a tight skirt and her blonde hair bouncing in the early morning light, walked by, oblivious to the monstrosities hiding just out of sight.
The captain's smile grew hungry, his rubbery hand squeezing Alex's cock with a newfound gusto. "Well, gay boy," he murmured, his voice a deep, guttural purr that seemed to resonate in Alex's very soul, "Let's make you a man, shall we?" The words sent a shiver down Alex's spine, a mix of terror and arousal that made him feel sick.
With a grunt, the captain began to strut Alex's body over toward the unsuspecting woman, his rubbery legs moving with a confidence that Alex had never felt before. Each step sent waves of power through Alex's body, his muscles bulging and flexing with every movement. The woman looked up, her eyes widening at the sight of the hulking figure approaching her. The captain's gaze locked onto her, his eyes gleaming with a predatory lust that made Alex's stomach drop.
As they got closer, the woman's eyes flickered with attraction. The captain leaned in, his nose brushing against her cheek as he whispered something in her ear. Alex's mind screamed for him to stop, but his body was no longer his own. He watched in horror as his new, monstrous self bent her over the hood of a nearby car, hiking her skirt up to reveal her naked ass with a lustful smile. The captain's hands roamed over her body, his touch leaving a trail of sticky wetness that made her skin shine in the morning light. "Yeah, just like that," he murmured, his voice a gruff, animalistic growl that seemed to make the woman quiver with anticipation and Alex in silent horror.
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#male possession#male bodysuit#male tf#male transformation#soldier#rubber#male merging#male takeover#breeder tf
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