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#glazy
therobotmonster · 2 years
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Fear Not, Commonwealth!
My robots will be patrolling the wasteland, traveling between major settlements to keep the people supplied and the roads clear of mutants, raiders, and rogue robots!
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So when you see Mr. Glazy's friendly face, know you are are in good hands.
Well, not hands exactly.
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itsukia · 6 months
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Back to experimenting w new glazes I'm alive agaiiiin
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roseglazedlens · 1 year
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Okay let's forget about all the agents Kennedy, alcohol and trauma in RC, Ada...ect,and turn to Leon s Kennedy as Your husband's policeman 36years is receiving a promotion to Chief Police Officer cuz I can't see my bbguy suffer more :(,you can add some nsfw if you want to
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thank you for requesting lovely! i'm sorry i write so much angst hahhaha, but here is a change of pace! i've never written anything purely fluff (lol) and so many characters, so this is a challenge! i hope you enjoy!
⦑ take me home ⦒✶.*
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pairing(s): leon kennedy x gn! reader synopsis: you throw a surprise party for your boyfriend's last day at work after his job promotion. content: pure fluff, established relationship, flirting, alcohol, leon is tipsy, but he's cute & not depressed ab it. claire, rebecca, jill & chris works in RPD. « 1 k words┇masterlist┇ao3┇reblogs appreciated! »
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Today is an unusual sight for the usually hectic police department in Raccoon City. The office is adorned with balloons, garlands, and laughter, celebrating not just the promotion of a well-loved officer, Leon S. Kennedy, but also his farewell as he relocates to a new precinct.
You should be happy for your boyfriend – and you are – but part of you will miss watching over his figure from your desk, casting flirtatious grins back and forth in attempts to distract each other from the rigorous paperwork.
A banner suspends between the light fixtures, observing the lopsided words ‘CONGRATULATIONS’, strings twisted into the knot. The culprit of this handiwork, Chris, puffs out his chest proudly, while Rebecca looks at him in disbelief.
“Chris, leave the decorations to Rebecca, please.” You break apart the squabble forming between them. Rebecca smirks as Chris descends the ladder, defeated. “Don’t forget everyone, this is supposed to be a surprise.”
“Claire, where is the card?” You interrogate the next person in your line of sight, who happens to be Claire. All whilst you signal Rebecca to tilt the banner slightly upwards. “Has everyone signed?”
“Yep. It’s just you left.” She hands over the card, before resuming to the case files on her computer.
The card scrawls with heartfelt blessings from your team, a lot of ‘good lucks’, ‘we’ll miss you’, and nostalgia when he was just a rookie. He worked hard for ten years to be a sergeant, and you know he deserves this.
You pick up your pen – contemplating the words to express how amazing he is, how you will love him forever, how you will miss the sneaky make-out sessions in the work janitor’s closet.
…Marvin will be so proud of you. Yours, ....
The vibration in your pocket cuts you off mid-sentence – Jill. She is supposed to be on the case with Leon for another thirty minutes. You read the text out loud.
“I can't hold him back much longer, we're on our way. ETA in five minutes!!”
The floor scrambles in panic to finalise their positions. Rebecca quickly secures the banner with some tape. Claire is passing party poppers. Chris is putting away the ladder to the storeroom.
As Jill enters the space with Leon following behind, all the confetti releases at once.
The rainbow plastic ribbons catching in his hair like stardust in sand. You catch a glimpse of surprise in his reaction, following with a light on the corner of his lips.
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“To Leon!” your team lifts their glasses high in the air, sipping beers and cocktails all night. Leon is the star tonight – you can barely talk to him without two other people buying him drinks all night along.
You catch him a whole two hours later in the circle booth, after some of the crowd has dispersed, his cheeks redden from the many drinks consumed all in a few hours. You squeeze yourself through three different people to sit yourself next to Leon.
“Having fun?” You try to get his attention by nudging at his forearm. “Don’t get too drunk though, I have to take you home.”
Leon lifts his gaze, when he sees you right by him, a grin tug at his face almost immediately. His cerulean eyes somehow more glazy than usual.
“Thank you for doing all of this. You are so good for me.” Despite the scent of beer merging with his breath, the grin on his face remains childlike. One that you only see in his drunkenness, which he lets down his guard to show more of his emotional side.
“Everyone helped. Not just me.” You are thinking how cute Leon looks when he’s drunk. “You are well-loved in here. I’m just the facilitator.”
“How about you work for me?” Leon brings the back of your palm to his lips. “I can pull some strings, now that I’m sergeant.”
“Sergeant Kennedy, using your influence for personal goals? It’s not even your first day.” You quip with a slight chuckle.
“And what if I am?” He peppers kisses from your palm to your fingers, the faint heat from his lips sizzle through your nerves. “Sure you’ll enjoy less time on the field, and more time in my office.”
“Well, if that’s the case.” You decide to let this banter go on a little further. “I expect to be well-compensated for my extra duties.”
“That will depend on your performance.” He raises a sassy eyebrow, pulling you closer until your noses touch.
“Good thing I always hit my KPI’s.”
“I do like a hardworking employee…”
Eyes fluttering shut slowly, you smile into the kiss. His lips lay gently on yours, sucking slightly at your cupid’s bow. Your bodies move closer, so close that you rests your hand on Leon’s thigh for support. The kiss deepens further, sloppier, tongues intertwined until…
“Ahem.” Chris clears his throat loudly, snapping you back to the present.
You open your eyes to find the whole table staring at the two of you. Your gaze finds its way to Jill, which she immediately, most awkwardly, rolls her eyes to the ceiling as if there is something to see there. Claire is nonchalant, sipping her beer and simply enjoying the scene.
You retract the tongue that is still shoved in Leon’s mouth. A hint of pink is running up your cheeks, you don’t need to see it to feel it. Leon, however, is unphased by the attention from his coworkers. Perhaps it’s the alcohol, perhaps it’s knowing that he won’t be seeing these guys next Monday.
“So… next rounds on me. Who’s in?” Chris attempts to diffuse the awkwardness, which earns a few curt nods from the table.
Leon holds you by the hand, picking you up from the seat. “Sorry Chris, we’re gonna call it. It’s been a long night. Thanks for the party, everyone.”
You two shuffle past Chris and Jill out of the booth, after a round of hugs with everyone, you can practically feel Leon sprinting out the bar.
“How ‘bout we continue where we left off at my place?”
Your cheeks turn a deeper red. It seems like he will be the one to take you home tonight instead.
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thanks for reading! come check out my other works. ––yours truly, rose. tags: @carlosgf @sporeghost (pm me for tags) © roseglazedlens - please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.
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wittlesissyb4by · 3 months
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Chapter 3 - The Study Group
Click HERE to read Chapter!
Click HERE to read Chapter 2!!
“I…I’m just really nervous.” Jack stammered, dipping his head and rubbing his face as he does any time he’s anxious. 
Marianne used a finger to lift her husband’s chin, looking into his eyes. “I know,” she said, trying to feign confidence, “I am too.”
She gave him a once over, sliding her hands along his shirt that was far too short to cover his belly, straightening it out and picking off any stray lint. 
Jack kept tugging the shirt down. “Can’t I at least wear shorts?” He whimpered. 
Marianne just shrugged, curling her fingers into the waistband of his diaper, gripping and pulling upward so it forced his legs a bit wider. “I don’t really see the point,” she said, tucking the flared edges back into his thighs like she’d been taught, apparently it helps prevent leaks, “they already know you’ll be wearing one, and they’re going to see it eventually. No reason to delay the inevitable.”
He blushed, knowing she was right, but that didn’t keep him from trembling. 
“Hey,” she said, bringing her hand back to his cheek, “you wanted this, remember? There’s no backing out now.” 
That seemed to settle him. He nodded and plopped his hands down to his sides for maybe the hundredth time. Marianne combed him over once more, she found herself uneasy too. There was no reason to be, they were all probably used to it, but Jack was still a reflection of her, and Marianne wanted to show that she was competent in diapering her husband. 
Still, she couldn’t help but gawk at how adorable he looked, like an innocent little one rubbing their eyes and face, tugging on their shirt, and crinkling in their little diaper. She was certainly starting to see the appeal to this whole thing, even if she originally didn’t think it would be her cup of tea when he first presented it to her.
“What time are they getting here?” Jack asked, still a bit flustered. 
Marianne leaned in close for a kiss, which he returned. When they released, she smiled, “they’re already here!”
******
The girls were giddy with excitement when Marianne came back into the living room. They’d been sitting around the couch, chairs, and tables. Notebooks and laptops open, pencils scratching, keys tapping. The sound of Marianne’s footsteps caused them all to stop collectively and look up from their studying. 
“Ladies…” Marianne cleared her throat, voice shaking nervously but trying to feign confidence, “meet…Jack!”
A round of applause broke out, but nothing (and no one) came from the hallway. At least, not for a few seconds. Finally, once the cheers died down, Jack came simpering into the room, hands relentlessly trying to tug down his shirt, only for it to spring back up and further expose the puffy pamper between his legs. “Oh my godd!!” Someone squealed, stomping their feet in hilarity. 
“Awww!! Look at his wittle pampurrs!!”
“Soo cuuute!!”
“Cute? More like ‘pathetic’!!”
The raucous laughter went on for what felt like several minutes. Even Marianne couldn’t help but smile to herself. Though the girls were probably embellishing, it was nice to see them so excited about seeing her husband in diapers. It was validating. 
“Turn around!”
“Give us a little spin!”
“Yea! Show us your diaper butt!”
“Don’t worry about that shirt, it’s not hiding anything. Trust us!”
“Bend over!”
“That’s it! Smack that ass!”
Jack was whimpering over the dull thud of his hand smacking the seat of his diaper. 
“Come here,” Claire said, snapping her fingers and pointing to the ground in front of her, the same carpet she herself used to crawl on when her Mom brought her over as a toddler, “let’s check your diaper.”
Marianne had never seen her husband move so fast. He was trembling all over, but his eyes had this sort of glazy effect to them, like he was in a different world, a different space. He dropped to his knees in front of the beautiful blonde college girl. 
“Make him tell us if he’s wet!” Trinity suggested. 
“Do you do that?” Brooke beckoned, “I always like to guess when I think they’re doing it. The way they try to keep their face from scrunching is so cute!”
“I just check them constantly,” said Valencia, “They get so huffy and puffy when I'm making them spread their legs so I can pinch their pamper every 5 minutes. It almost makes them force it out faster so they don’t have to keep getting all worked up inside of their clitty cage!”
“I like my methods, thank you very much!” Claire giggled. She closed her spiral notebook and set it to the side, tucking her hair behind her ear as she leaned forward to the quivering Jack. “How’s your diaper?” She asked, smacking her gum. “Are you wet?”
Before Jack could form any words that weren’t just stammering baby babble, Claire already had her hand on his diaper. “Hmm…hard to tell…” she said to the room, “What do you think girls? Can you check him?”
Marianne had given them permission to touch Jack and his diaper, as long as they didn’t go in and touch his penis. She wasn’t quite comfortable with that. 
Jack mewed as he went down the line, waddling side to side on his knees so each girl could pinch and squish and poke and prod him. “Hmm…he doesn’t feel wet…but I do feel something small and stiff!” Valencia giggled, tapping him on the hips. “Turn around! Let’s check for poop!”
Jack’s cheeks flushed red as Val used a finger to peel back the waistband of his diaper and peek inside. “Hmm, nope! No poo poo’s…yet! Maybe the little guy’s backed up!  What were the 4 P’s for easing constipation again, girls?”
“Prunes!”
“Pears!”
“Peaches! And…” Savannah flipped through her notes.
“Plums.” Marianne finished, she’d been studying hard the past few days. “I have all of them in the pantry!”
******
“Open wide!!”
“Heeerre comesss the airpwannnne!!!”
“And the Choo-choo train!!”
“Gotta put the car in the garage!! Vroom vroom!!”
Spoonfuls of mush were coming from so many directions that Jack could hardly keep up. Actually, he couldn’t keep up at all. Sweet slop ran down the sides of his stuffed mouth, down his chin, and onto the bib that someone took the liberty of bringing for him.  
“Open! Open!” Savannah encouraged, but didn’t even wait for him to swallow before shoveling another spoonful into his already full mouth. Jack tried to close his lips around it, but some ended up getting pushed out from being over capacity. Savannah deftly caught what dripped down his drooly chin, and brought it back up for a second attempt. 
Jack’s stomach was groaning from the onslaught. The pureed ‘P’s’ were slishing and sloshing, making it full almost to the point of bursting, and the jars still had plenty of food left in them. Did Marianne know she bought such big containers? Maybe she didn’t intend them to all be used at once, but she sure wasn’t doing anything to stop them. In fact, she almost encouraged it. 
“I’ve been trying to get him to eat healthier,” Marianne laughed, “guess I just need to invite pretty girls over in order to get him to eat his fruit and veggies!!”
Jack wriggled helplessly in his high chair. The same one he’d built for himself just a few weeks prior. Marianne didn’t understand why he wanted to add restraints to it until this very moment. The way he was tugging them and whining with all that mush in his mouth made it quite necessary. She couldn’t tell if he was struggling just for show, or if he genuinely was in turmoil, but he didn’t use the safeword, so Marianne assumed all was well one way or another. She had to admit, he did look pretty adorable squirming around in that chair covered in mush. His white shirt was no longer plain.
“Hold still, little one!” Claire cooed, holding his head still from behind the chair while the girls forced even more spoonfuls into his mouth. “It’ll help you feel better! Help get your poo poo’s out!”
When they’d finally exhausted all four jam-sized jars of food and the girls cheered “alll gone!!” Jack was leaning back in his chair, mouth agape, groaning over his bloated belly. Trinity used the bib to mop up his face, Brooke and Savannah removed the restraints from his wrists and ankles, and Val lifted the tabletop. 
“Uh oh, girls!” Claire exclaimed, hand between Jack’s legs. “Feels like we’ve got a wet diaper!!”
******
Jack sat on the floor in his pissy pamper while the girls went over the different types of enemas. 
“Sodium Phosphate, Glycerin, Bisacodyl, Mineral Oil and…” Savannah snapped her fingers over and over, searching for the words, “…and…and…”
“It’s easier than you think,” Val said over her notes, checking off Savannah’s answers. 
“Oh! Tap water!” Savannah exclaimed, smacking her head in her own stupidity. 
“Which one do you use to stimulate colon contractions?”
“Bisacodyl!” She replied immediately with a satisfied smile, “Easy.”
They continued to go through their notes, making sure to cover everything with detail and then some before moving on to a new topic. 
Jack pretended to play with the little blocks and stuffed animals they gave him. It was demeaning and humiliating, but he decided it was better than protesting. He didn’t want to cause a scene or put Marianne in a precarious position where she would be forced to reprimand him, or worse, become too overwhelmed and embarrass herself in front of her peers. He’d asked for all of this, he could deal with it. His diaper was still warm from the piss he added to it a half hour ago. It squished as he shifted, but so did something else. His stomach was churning, doing backflips and giving that noticeable heavy grumble. He thought about asking Marianne if he could excuse himself to the restroom, but she seemed so busy and stressed going through her studies. When he tried to leave the room earlier so they could have their time to study in peace, the girls immediately asked “Where are you going?” and plopped him right back down on the floor where they could “keep an eye on him.” He was stuck in here.
He glanced from side to side, the girls were going over the active ingredients in different suppositories, not paying much attention to him at all. Now was as good of a time as ever. As quietly as he could, he clambered around onto his hands and knees, his heavy diaper drooping between his legs. This wasn’t the first time he’d crawled since they’d been around, (they made him do several laps proclaiming he was a pamper pisser earlier) so they didn’t seem to notice when he slowly crawled over into the corner. 
He just wanted a bit of privacy. It would be weird doing it in front of them. He thought one last time about asking Marianne if he could use the bathroom, but she was so busy with the girls he didn’t want to interrupt, especially to tell them what he needed to do. Plus, he was pretty sure he knew what their answer would be. So, instead, he brought his legs up into a crouch, squatting in the corner and trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. 
“Watcha doin’ over there?” Trinity’s voice called. 
Jack immediately flushed red. 
“Oh! I know that look!”
“Awww!! Is somewon twying to make a pushy??”
“Oh my god! He is!!”
“He’s doing the good ‘ole ‘squatty potty’!!!”
“I love how they think they can get away with it…pooping in the corner like a little tottler.”
Marianne didn’t say anything, just smiled sheepishly at her husband’s antics. She’d never seen her husband so embarrassed before. 
“Get out from over there!” Claire called, snapping her fingers and pointing back at the rug in the center of the room. “If you need to do your business, you will do it right here where we can all see you!”
Jack looked to Marianne for help, his face stricken with horror, but she simply gave a curt nod, the edges of her lips curling upwards. This is what he asked for, she told herself. 
His bottom lip started to quiver, but he tucked it underneath his teeth as he made his way back to the center of the room in front of the gaggle of girls. Jack could feel every set of eyes on him while he crouched in his diaper. It was so wet and plump that it practically reached the floor. The girls giggled and smiled, some covering their grins with their hands so as not to be “rude”. 
“Go on Jack Jack!” Val said, taking charge. 
“Yea!” The other girls said, joining in now. 
“Poop your pampers!”
“Make a pushy!”
“Go on, diaper dumper! Let’s see what you got!”
Jack clamped his eyes shut, hoping to block out all the sights and sounds, but it was futile, their incessant cackling reverberated around the room. 
There was only one thing he could do at this point, he had to get it over with. 
“Oh look! His face is turning red! I think he’s doing it!”
Jack’s face was already red long before from the embarrassment of it all, but now that he was pushing, the veins were popping from his head. He couldn’t hold back a grunt as his muscles clenched, then relaxed. The warmth caught him off guard, he was used to expelling the waste and it dropping through the air and into the water below. Now, it didn’t drop far at all, it just pressed back into him as the mush spread through the inside of his padding. Somehow, the girls noticed, either from the smell, or the much saggier bulge of his diaper. 
“Uh oh!! I think somewon has poo poo’s!!”
“Let’s check him!!”
“Not yet, he’s still going! Let’s let the wittle baby finish his business!”
Jack begrudgingly harrumphed and pushed out the remainder of his excrement. He tried to avoid their giggling gazes, but the eyes boring into him were tangible. Finally, he finished, but he didn’t know what he needed to do to convey the message. 
Thankfully, Marianne stepped in: “All done?” She asked, as if being married to him all this time gave her experience on his bowel movements. 
Jack nodded, still unable to drain the color in his cheeks. Marianne could see he had the strangest mixture of embarrassment, discomfort, and arousal. She found that more than a bit intriguing, not the act of defecating himself, but the fact that he was willing to utterly humiliate himself by doing it in front of all of these attractive people. Had he no shame? Or did he just revel in it? Either way, she found it fascinating.
“Tell us what you did.” Val said, a sadistic grin on her face. “Tell us what you did in your diaper.”
Jack looked side to side for help, but none came, not even from Marianne, who just gave him a curt nod, lips curling into a smile. 
“I…” Jack squeaked in the tiniest of voices, he was so humiliated he brought his hands to his face, rubbing his cheeks and squirming like an embarrassed toddler. “I went poo poo’s…”
“Louder!” Trinity commanded. 
His bottom lip quivered, his eyes got a little misty. “I went poo poo’s!!”
“Where?”
“In…in my diaper…”
“We can’t hear you!”
“I WENT POO POO’S IN MY DIAPER!!” he shouted. 
The girls continued making him humiliate himself. Forcing him to say it like a baby. To turn around and wiggle his droopy diaper for them. To stand up and swish his hips from side to side, causing the load to swing like a wrecking ball. 
“Should we…” Savannah started, “should we make him…?”  
All the girls seemed to know exactly what she meant, all except Marianne, so Claire leaned over and whispered in her ear. 
Marianne’s eyes widened a bit, but she didn’t shake her head. She seemed to be weighing options, keeping her eyes on Jack, considering his well-being. Finally, she shrugged and gave a nod in the affirmative. 
The girls collectively giggled and clapped. 
“Okay loser,” Val said, taking the lead, “Tell us: do you like your dirty diaper?”
Jack shrugged, eyes continuing to dart back and forth searching for help as to what to say. His mouth hung agape, but he didn’t seem to notice, drool leaking down his lips, he was so deep in little space. 
“Y-yes…” he said in a voice way too high-pitched for his age. 
“Say it.”
He hung his head, speaking to the floor. “I…i like my dirty diaper…”
The girls all exchanged glances and giggles. 
“Show us.”
Jack looked up, confused. “Wha?”
“Show us how much you like it.” Claire said. “Right there, on the floor.”
It took Jack only a second to register what she meant. It would have taken Marianne ages if it hadn’t just been explained to her. 
“N-no…” Jack begged, face welling up with crimson again, “please…”
“What?” Val cooed, “does the wittle baybee not want to make cummies in his dirty diapy?”
Jack instinctively grabbed his crotch. Even through the padding, Marianne could tell he was hard. If you would have told her her husband would be getting an erection inside of a poopy diaper while a group of girls laughed and ridiculed him, she would have laughed and ridiculed you. But no matter how red Jack’s face got, he certainly seemed to be enjoying himself.
“Lay down, Jack Jack.” Savannah commanded, “on your tummy.”
Despite his hesitation, he worked his quaking legs behind him, then lowered himself down on his belly, the mushy diaper crinkling as it was pressed against the floor, he looked up with doe eyes as he awaited further instruction. 
“You know what to do.” Trinity teased over the laughter of the other girls. “Show us what a big boy you are while you hump your dirty diapers!!”
Jack hung his head in shame, but used his arms to pull himself forward, squishing the mess into himself as his diaper ground against the ground. He visibly cringed, groaning as he wriggled his hips back and forth. 
The girls cackled with delight, even Marianne smiled at Jack’s shame. 
“Hump those Huggies, loser!”
“Pump those poopy pampers!”
“Tell us what you’re doing, diaper dumper!”
Jack was sweating in a mixture of shame and exertion, “I'm humping my poopy diapers!” He repeated over and over as he ground his hips even harder. 
They clapped and cheered and teased him with every thrust. 
“He’s really getting after it!”
“So horny and desperate!”
“See? All these little losers are the same!”
The girls had discussed with Marianne beforehand that anything they said was purely for degradation purposes. They didn’t think ill of her husband, or even care for that matter, they were just playing their part. 
“Tell us when you’re going to cum, loser!”
“Ask us for permission!”
It didn’t take long. Less than 10 seconds since they’d given the command, Jack was blubbering in a pitiful puddle on the floor. “Can I cum? Can i cum please??”
“Call us ‘Goddesses’!”
“And it’s ‘goo goo’ to you!”
Jack moaned and mewed, digging his dirty diaper in the rug. “Nnghhh! Can i make a…goo goo…in my… diapy…Goddesses??”
“No.” Val said without the slightest hint of sympathy. “Lift up.”
Whining and whimpering, Jack reluctantly raised his filthy diaper off the floor. 
“Keep humping.” Savannah said. “But don’t touch the ground.”
Jack was on all fours, humping the air like a desperate bitch. Swishing his hips back and forth and making the dirty droopy diaper swing to and fro. The girls found this to be one of the funniest things they’d ever seen. They continued to make him put on this ridiculous display for almost a full minute. 
“Rub it!” They commanded, making him push his hand into his crotch and stroke it through his padding. 
“PLEASE may I cum, Goddesses?” He was desperate, shouting and whimpering with no regard for how pathetic he looked. 
If Marianne had it her way, she would have let him, but instead she decided to let the girls take the reins. 
“Absolutely not.” Trinity barked. “Get back on your belly.”
They let him simmer down for a bit before having him resume his humiliating humping. 
“Suck your thumb.”
“Babble like a baybee!”
Jack was a blubbering mess on the floor while he mushed his mess with his hips. 
“Turn over.”
He flipped on his back. 
“Raise your hips up. Hump the air.”
It seemed to be a never ending string of humiliations, one after the other. With each bout of Jack being brought to the edge, the girls made him stop and get in a different position. 
“Ple-he-hease!!” Jack begged, actual tears leaking down his face. “Can i make goo goo’s and get out of this dirty diapy?”
The girls seemed to show sympathy for the first time, if only slightly.
“On your back.” Trinity said once more. “You’re not making a goo goo. Not yet, anyway. But you can get out of that disgusting diaper.”
Jack sighed, but did as he was told. 
The girls all turned to Marianne. “Are you ready to change him?”
It was Marianne’s turn to flush. She’d never changed a dirty diaper before. Not that she didn’t know how, but because she never thought she was ready to take on such a task. 
Claire placed a comforting hand on hers, sensing Marianne’s trepidation. “It’s okay, we’ll be right here with you.”
Marianne took a long, steady breath, trying to find her courage. This was something her husband had wanted for a long time. She wanted to share that moment with him, even if she didn’t quite feel ready. But when would she ever be ready? It’s hard to get up the nerve to see your husband splayed out in his own filth, much less clean it up yourself. If there was a time to do it, it would be right now when she had her friends—if you could call them that—by her side, helping her through it. She let out a long, hefty sigh, putting on her Mommy voice. 
“Okay sweetheart!” She chimed, managing to keep her cadence from shaking, “it’s time to change your diaper!!”
To Be Continued
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lynk-zee · 4 months
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i've been looking at your posts recently and i am in LOVE. is there chance you could do a spanking scenario? like the main 3 possibly but if not then just one of them! don't stress if not 🩷
Sweet Peaches
Added ass grabbing so I don’t repeat myself too much! SPICY but marked NSFW
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You were being a brat again. Dancing on his nerves like a little ballerina, fluttering your eyelashes at him as if you weren’t acting up. Well this is what you get.
“Someone could have walked in…” He growls into your ear as he has you sprawled over his lap. You were in his office, wearing nothing but his lab coat, waiting for him in the most tantalizing pose he’s ever seen. What if he had a colleague with him? Perhaps a patient? What were you thinking, waiting in such scandalous attire. He had to teach you a lesson.
“Count.”
Before you could protest, he swung his hand down onto your ass, making you yelp. “I said count.”
Again. “O-One…”
Again and again. “T-Two…ThrEE-AH!”
“Speak clearly or you’ll have to start over.”
“F—OUR!! Five…S-Six…”
By the time you reached your twenties, you were so far gone.
“Twenty-four…..Ugh-huh….Twenty-five…”
“Good.”
He pulled you up to sit in his lap, tutting at the glazy look in your eyes, thumbing away your drool.
“Good…Let me reward you now, sweetheart…”
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I feel like Rafayel always has a hand on your ass anyways. It’s his favorite place to hold you when you hug, when you kiss, when you fuck… Spanking is kind of a given. At the worst possible moments. You could be at his art exhibition, doing your job as his body guard when he notices how good your ass looks in those pants. Like, mid-sentence, he will smack and squeeze your ass, continuing to converse with his patrons like nothings happened. And no, he will not be letting go anytime soon.
Also squeezes your ass like a stressball when he’s having a hard time concentrating on his art. He’ll be like “Baby can you come here?” just so he can fondle your ass as he tries to figure out what color would look best for his painting.
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Keep this man away from your ass!! I’m warning you! Letting Xavier know what it’s like to hold your ass can result in some intense consequences. Especially when he slaps it for the first time. It’s over. He doesn’t spank to punish, he spanks to mark.
Most of the time he uses his hand, he like the skin to skin contact despite the sting. It feels more personal. But, if your up for it, let him use a riding crop or a paddle. Maybe not a belt (baby doesn’t want to hurt you too bad), but it can get pretty intense with him (I tried to warn you). You just look so pretty covered in his marks.
No matter his weapon of choice, Xavier will always give you superb aftercare. You were so good for him, he has to be so good for you. He’ll rub a soothing balm on your skin as you whine into his chest, whispering praises in your ear.
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Nico Di Angelo never liked hugs.
He wasn't used to that sort of affection in a long time, yet he could never bring himself to hate Jason Grace's embrace. Jason would always pick nico's frail body up and squeeze him in a rib crushing bro hug. Whether it be after they won capture the flag, or if Nico was feeling down, or simply when Jason felt like it. It was a subconscious habit of his. Those hugs just had a healing effect in them, Jason's hugs were always sincere and filled with genuine affection.
Nico had grown to do more than just tolerate those hugs, he'd eventually learned to hug back. And each time Jason's face would brighten like a puppy, his chest would be filled with warmth. Is this what it felt like to have a friend? Is this what it felt like to have a loving older brother?
'See you later, Grace" Nico said, pulling away from the hug Jason had given him, except this time, the hug was unusually melancholic, As Jason still held on tight, for a few extra seconds, though for what reason, Nico didn't know. Jason merely smiled, with glazy eyes and patted Nico's head gently.
And here Nico was, sobbing and thrashing in the inky depths of the underworld, yelling for the damned sunshiney son of Jupiter, the son of Jupiter who totally wasn't dead. no. of course not. Nico hadn't been hugged yet, Jason can't just leave without a last hug. He would never do that, unless he had no other choice. Each time he took a jittery step forward, his mind would be plagued with gruesome images of Jason's chest leaking with blood as the spear pierced his heart.
Nico realized with a pang, why the last hug they shared was melancholic.
That damned Grace knew it would be their last.
Jason Grace's chest, where Nico used be squeezed into a hug, was now a chest covered with blood.
Nico yelled in despair as the cruel fates forced him to accept that Jason Grace had truly left Nico Di Angelo forever, without a final warm hug. Nico had never longed for that once annoying rib crushing hug any more than he did right now.
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heartcereql · 1 year
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a/n: i'm a slut for this man.
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war!tommy shelby x nurse!reader
chattering in the background. the faint smell of alcohol. but not that alcohol. not rum, not scotch. clean alcohol. hospital alcohol. more voices. cloth against his forehead. it was cold. ice cold. and then he remembered. the fire. the wound.
tommy's eyes shot open, upper body lifting slightly from the sudden action, though it was mere seconds before he fell again on his back, his body tired and hurt, unable to support him.
and then he saw you. his eyes must have been blurry from the time they spent closed because he could have sworn there was a glazy halo surrounding your figure, all dresses in white, hair pulled back from your features, allowing him to gaze upon your features. you looked like an angel.
before he could even process the woman before him, said woman was approaching where he laid.
"you're awake! how are you feeling?" you spoke in a sweet tone, a smile softening your face.
he just gaped at you for a moment. you were even more beautiful up close. how was he feeling. all the better now that you were here, certainly, but even in his shocked and dumbfounded state he could distinguish that he couldn't tell you that. he tried to check if his body hurt. he felt a bit numb, probably he was on some sedatives; besides a light headache, he didn't feel much.
even though all these had happened in a few seconds to him, you were getting worried at his lack of response. maybe he was worse than you thought.
"sir?" you called his attention, a frown clouding your expression.
this seemed to bring him back to earth.
"yes, i'm alright, yeah" he nodded, giving you a smile of his own.
adorable. sharp cheekbones, the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen, he was certainly delightful to look at. and he seemed like a sweetheart.
"that's great. let me check this..." you put your hand over his forehead to check his temperature. you were short on thermometers so you had to do it the old fashioned way for now.
his world stopped. breath caught in his throat, eyes widening in the tiniest bit- so that you couldn't notice, heart picking up its rate. your touch was feather-like, but lasted enough for him to feel the softness and warmth of your skin; the trace of your fingers still lingering on him when you pulled your hand again.
"not bad; the fever's going down... i'm going to change the bandages now, okay?" you said. you couldn't explain it, but you couldn't cease to smile.
he mumbled in agreement as your hands found his wounded arm, untying the now stained cloth. as you unwrapped his pained arm, your hands steadied on his bicep, making goosebumps arise on his skin.
once the wound was uncovered and fresh air hit the injury, tommy winced. you gave him an apologetical smile before turning to find a wet towel to clean the dried blood. his eyes never left your figure, studying your every move. when you returned and started washing the blood off, he forced himself to look away. he didn't want to creep you out.
but, on the other hand, nurses came and went easily; what if he never saw you again? so, on second thought, tommy's eyes returned to you, savouring every second.
as you finished, you looked at him, only to meet those enchanting icy orbs. you both smiled again, soft laughs, looking away shyly to hide your embarrasment.
you started to bandage his arm again. he wanted to ask you about yourself, find out about you. though knowing he was the reason you kept smiling made him feel all the better.
"um, so, you've been a nurse for long?" he asked, voice unsure, testing the waters.
he immediatly regretted it: you looked his age, 'been a nurse for long'? please.
but you didn't seem to share his thoughts, as your eyes glimmered a bit before answering.
"not really, no, but my mother and grandmother were nurses for the better part of their lives, so i know my way around" you answered, eyes suddenly too timid to meet his.
as the both of you engaged on a pure and warm conversation, bandages finished long ago, you lost track of time. your only focus was on him.
“y/n!” you were pulled out of the conversation as someone called for you.
“shit, uh, that’s me. i- i have to go.. but it was lovely to talk to you!, um…” you trailed off as you still hadn’t caught his name.
“tommy. tommy shelby” he replied with a smile.
“well, tommy shelby. you get better. and when you do, you look for y/n y/l/n” you offered him one last grin before sprinting off to where the voice came from.
y/n. oh he would definitely look for you. granted.
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© heartcereql, 2023 || thank you for reading ! 𓆩 ♱ 𓆪
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georgiarose · 7 months
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Glazy Valentine's morning 💕✨🍩
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blue-and-grey-army · 1 year
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- - C A R A M E L - - 5
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5. Cookies and Americano pt2
Genre: BTS, Idol AU, poly au, BTS x reader, OT7, OT7 x reader, Idol BTS, Dom BTS, sub reader, angst, fluff, eventual smut
Warnings: BTS x reader, very subby reader, innocent reader, power play, eventual smut, sexual and non sexual domination, a lot of skinship (but like lots) excessive pet names, sexism, anxiety, insecurities, possessive behavior, maybe BTS x BTS etc, MC gets a bit to hazy..
You freeze in your tracks and your eyes open wide. Oppa? Isn’t that term supposed to be for family and close people? Did that mean you two were close? How close? And why? You have known each other for way less than a month, and yet here you are, resting on a couch, with your arms around his neck and one of the most famous singers in the world nuzzling against your skin. Your head started to spiral, but a particular hard bite on your collarbone drew your attention back to him.
“Am I boring you, kitten?” Yoongi scolded, but his tone was relaxed and his words went out with a chuckle, lifting his head so he could look at your eyes.”I don’t want to share your attention…even with your own mind, I want all your focus on me, can you manage that, pretty one?” You are about to nod your head, but you stop yourself when you remember his words from earlier.
“Yes Oppa…I-I can do that” your voice quavers, but your wish for him not to stop is bigger. He smiles, bringing both hand to cup your cheeks and get you closer, to the point your forehead were touching.
“I knew you could, baby…such a good girl” and he moves forward.
He kissed you.
Your breath hitched for a second until you felt his lips barely brush the corner of your lip and rest on your cheek. It was perfectly measured so he wouldn’t touch your lips, but just tease you. And he knew he had gotten what he wanted when he noticed that those lips, he wanted to kiss so badly, were parted. Your breathing was heavy and your cheeks were hot and red. He was satisfied with his handy work until he noticed the way your leg was shaking, and not in a good way. Yoongi sighed, understanding what it meant, and he held your cheeks a little firmer.
“Hey, pretty girl? You with me?” His voice dropped both in tone and in volume and your glazy eyes encountered his. “Did I do something that made you upset? Did I overstep?” His voice was still firm but you could feel the worry in it. You could tell how concerned he was about you not being comfortable about his approach.
“No! N-no, no, i-its not that…” you were making your biggest effort to speak, resting your hands on his forearms so you could have something to grab onto and that kept contact with him. “I just…I guess I kinda felt…I-it was just…too much, a bit too much, and t-too quickly and I…” you tried to explain, but your words were getting tangled in your hazy like space and your nervousness.
You knew that when he kissed you, even though it was not on your lips but close enough, something changed in you. Your comfortable state went away and you felt your eyes burning just the way they do before filling with tears. And you don’t understand why! He didn’t do anything wrong! You were liking it…a lot actually. The way his touch felt so nice, how both his voice and actions were completely guiding you through everything, and taking control from you in a way that you felt safe and cared for. Everyone talked about his eyes often, how they were cat-like and he scrutinized everyone with his death stares, but you couldn’t agree. His eyes were soft and caring, adoring even. You kinda thought that Yoongi may even want the same, for you to trust him enough to relax and let him take the lead for you. You just felt warm, all through.
But somewhere in your head your couldn’t forget who he was, what could happen if you made him angry, if you made a false move. And it made you anxious. You had a hard time telling if you wanted to please him because you really felt good with him (and the others) or you were convincing yourself so you could keep this job. Your rent wasn’t cheap, and even though you did grocery’s and used services less than you were supposed to, you couldn’t afford being fired. The anxiety caught up to you when you felt his lips on your skin and you tensed, hoping he wouldn’t realize. But of course he did.
“Hmm…” he hums, using his thumbs to rub gently on your warm cheekbones “Did I make you overwhelmed, Kitten?” He whispers and you start to stutter, trying to explain yourself, he stops you “it’s not wrong or bad to feel overwhelmed, sweetheart. I just want you to tell me to know how you are feeling. That’s what’s important” he moves his hand to bop at your nose, but he stops himself “is it alright if I keep touching you now or you think you would like some time off?”
He tries to takes his hands off your cheeks before you can answer, but you hold onto his wrists for dear life, pushing them softly so they go back to your face. Yoongi releases a barely there sigh of relief, and moves his hands so he is cupping your cheeks and your jaw. You use your own to hold onto his fingers, rubbing on his knuckles since it’s grounding to you. You nuzzle against his warm hands, avoiding his eyes from your shyness. “I-I…I don’t want you to stop touching me, Oppa”
Yoongi stops his own mind before it can start to wander to dirtier places. He can see you are sensitive, not only physically but also emotionally. Your headspace was kinda easy to trigger, or maybe it’s because their guiding hands had a bigger impact on you, but it was there. So they had to be extra careful with you if they wanted you around. He wanted to take care of you so badly he felt like he was losing his mind. But he knew it may take sometime, specially if they all wanted you in their rooms, if you even accepted that.
“Alright, pet, then I won’t stop” he showed you his famous gummy smile, and before you could realize he scooped you up and sat on the couch, with you on his lap.
You gasped, startled from his sudden movement, but you relaxed as soon as you felt his hand tangle in your hair, starting to play with it softly. Your skin breaks out in goosebumps when his fingers get closer or you naps and a chill goes down your spine, making him chuckle from how sensitive you were and how easy it was to make you react.
“Is this alright, kitten?” he asks, tapping at your chin so you would put your eyes on him. You remembered your first encounter with him and what he told you a few minutes ago about how he wanted you to answer, so you used your words, wanting for him to tell you how good you were. “I’m relieved you are feeling better, pretty kitten…could you tell me why you started to feel overwhelmed? Where you not liking it?” Hd continued to play with your hair, his other hand caressing your face continuously.
“No…I actually liked it a lot…” you feel your cheeks burn heavily from your statement, doing your best to put your shyness away, and his smirk seemed to show he was pleased. “I just wasn’t expecting it…The kiss I mean! I-it’s new to me! I’m not used to such things and it just…surprised me”
Yoongi rested his chin on your shoulder, humming in agreement but also nosing the column of your neck, enjoying the path of goosebumps he left behind and the small shine that you left out. “Then we should get you used to it, don’t you think, Kitten? We want you happy and cared for, would you like that?”
You think it through a couple seconds. It’s not an explicit offer, but you understand to some point what it’s behind it. And you like the idea, so you nodded your head as well as a verbal response, and he caressed your lower lip with his thumb, sweetly.
“Good girl, so nice and sweet for her Oppa…” you can’t help but whine form how fuzzy and warm his words make you feel, a knot in your lower belly tightening and Yoongi can feel how your clench your thighs slightly. “Hmm, you feeling fuzzy kitten?” You nod your head softly, with a small pout on your lips that he fakes the gesture of biting, and you giggle a bit. “Yeah? Well, then take whatever you need from me kitten, whatever makes you feel steady and grounded…”
You don’t hesitate for too long, choosing to just rest your head on his collarbone and nuzzle his neck, drowning deeper into his scent and his warm skin.
“Yeah, that’s it, kitten…so good at listening, such a perfect little pet…”
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Taglist
@thebisexualonesworld @openup-yourmind @jewishmommy @sld88 @djodjom1 @whipwhoops @take-u-2-anOther-wOr1d @singukieee @promiseokza @passionandsuga @channiespup @bangtan4everr @kissme-ornot @sophiaj650 @delightfulmoonbanana @serendididy @queenofdragons12 @effielumiere @juju-227592
If you wanted to be added to the tag list please let me now!!
I had to give Yoongi a part 2!!
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sapphicbookclub · 9 months
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The Dos and Donuts of Love by Adiba Jaigirdar
Shireen Malik is still reeling from the breakup with her ex-girlfriend, Chris, when she receives news that she’s been accepted as a contestant on a new televised baking competition show. This is Shireen’s dream come true! Because winning will not only mean prize money, but it will also bring some much-needed attention to You Drive Me Glazy, her parents’ beloved donut shop.
Things get complicated, though, because Chris is also a contestant on the show. Then there’s the very outgoing Niamh, a fellow contestant who is becoming fast friends with Shireen. Things are heating up between them, and not just in the kitchen.
As the competition intensifies , Shireen will have to ignore all these factors and more― including potential sabotage―if she wants a sweet victory!
Genres: contemporary, romance
Order from Blackwell's here and get free worldwide shipping!
Listen to the book on audiobooks.com here!
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goodnitedrdead · 2 years
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miscalculated steps
Colonel Carrillo x Reader
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Summary: Horacio was a man of deliberate decisions. It’s one of the characteristics that got him to the position he held. When you came into his life, he threw all sense of premeditation out the window and knew he would follow you till the end of the world at a moment’s notice. The risk he took was calculated, but man, was he bad at math. 
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings: Shootings, bullet wounds, death. Not towards any main characters though. fluff <3. silly things here and there.
Author's Note: sometimes I get possessed by the gremlin spirit of creativity so I just type words and hope they make sense when it's finished. feedback is greatly appreciated and will earn you a kiss from me <3
It amused you every time to have any sort of interaction with him and pretend you did not know the type of person he was behind closed doors. In fact, you both quite enjoyed the game you had to play outside of your own little shared universe.
It’s not like you didn’t want to share it with anyone else, the fact that you two were together, but you didn’t want any infiltrations to knock down the foundations you two had built.
For Horacio, it was the excitement and pure love he never really knew he wanted. Most of the time, he felt like a love-sick puppy. He was quite surprised nobody else had brought it up to his attention. He could already hear Javier snickering at him for the lingering and glazy looks he’d give you whenever you were in his presence. 
Truth be told, he tried his hardest to treat you like the rest of his team. He tried so hard to talk to you in the same stern voice he’d use with everyone else. He tried so hard to make sure you were always aware of your surroundings. He tried so damn hard to make sure you didn’t get any sort of special treatment from him. He tried and tried and tried so hard but the best he could do was soften his tone whenever he’d address you. The best he could do was make sure you were always in his line of sight and within reach in case he had to cover you. The very best he could do was to make sure you were his number one priority in that team.
It wasn’t always like that. He remembers when you were first assigned to Search Bloc. He didn’t think much of you. For him, it was another person to deal with which meant more weight on his shoulders that would slow him down. That all changed when you knocked him off his feet…. quite literally. 
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It had been during a stakeout gone wrong. Carrillo and Peña were informed about an exchange that was taking place in an abandoned farm-house outside of Medellín. As the two of them were heading towards their shared vehicle, you were leaning on yours having a cigarette. Javier called you out, and you looked up to see him waving at you. You quickly put your cigarette out and jogged towards them. Carrillo would eventually have to thank Javier for this, as he was the one who invited you to join them. You agreed, and got in the backseat of the car. 
As the three of you drove with minimal conversation, you kept shifting in your seat. Carrillo noticed after a while, the way you couldn’t seem to sit still, the way you kept readjusting the seat belt strap that went across your torso. 
“Everything alright, agent?” he asked, starting to get bothered by your actions. Looking at you through the rearview mirror.
You gave him a quick smile before you replied, “yeah.. All good.”
He raised an eyebrow at you and kept driving, falling into conversation with Javier.
Carrillo noticed the change in demeanor when you reached your destination. You weren’t fidgeting anymore. Instead, he found you to be overly-observant. As he placed the car in park, he saw the way you looked out the window, one hand on your gun and the other on the handle of the door. Alert.
As the three of you exited the vehicle, he was about to make a comment on your behavior, but it all changed when the bullets started to rain on the three of you. 
His eyes immediately searched for Peña as he was quick to find cover from the gunfire. The shooting was coming from above. The street was clear of civilians, except for the three of you and the shooters. It was four men, positioned on different balconies from the houses on the street. He could only see two in front of him, and he quickly took one down with his pistol. The man fell from the balcony, colliding with the hard concrete beneath him. 
Adrenaline coursed through his veins. His breath was coming in a quick and shallow rhythm.  Carrillo took cover behind a car, ducking from the bullets that were dancing around him. He paid close attention to the sound of the gunfire, trying his best to count how many rounds were left in the other man’s weapon. It wasn’t long before he heard the shooting from that direction stop, the man more than likely meeting the same fate as his partner. The smell of gunpowder clung to the air, silence was quick to take over the atmosphere.
He scouted the area around him, slowly rising to his feet with his gun drawn and ready. At the lack of sight of you and Peña, Carrillo started to panic. He was quick to inspect his surroundings, looking for either of you. He had counted four men before, and two of them got taken down. Sure he could take on the other two by himself, but the problem was that he didn’t know where they had gone. They could ambush him at any minute.
As he came close to an old house down the street, he was about to call out for Peña when he felt an overpowering force plow against him. He was knocked out of his breath, his back making contact with the uneven pavement below him. He felt a few rocks dig into his back, his head grazing the ground. It all happened so quickly he didn’t have time to register the weight on top of him, shielding him from the bullets. 
Just as he was about to strike his attacker, he was stopped at the sight of you. Definitely not the person he expected. 
You were out of breath, panting above him. Your hair untamed, framing your face in a way that made you look much younger. Carrillo never took the time to really look at you until now. You were beautiful. A part of him that he didn’t even know was there started to awaken. Was it the rush of adrenaline? Was the loneliness catching up to him? Was it the way you saved his life? Whatever it was, those thoughts vanished as he saw you jump back to your feet, running to the sound of gunfire. He didn’t even know you had pushed him into an alleyway, hiding him away from the danger.
As he got out of the trance he was in, he got back up and followed you. Only to find out you and Peña had taken care of the other men that were still on the loose.
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It still amused him, knowing that in an instant moment his whole world changed because of you. Never in a million years did he think he’d end up sharing a home with you. Where you two would create your own sanctuary and your own world together, a world so perfect that he’d feel giddy to get out of work and home to you. He couldn’t need anything else as long as he was in your shared space.
The excitement to come back to you at the end of the day was always there. But sometimes he’d get so wrapped up in his own mind. The exhaustion of work following him and finding a home in his bones, aching and wearing him down as the minutes ticked by. And there was no one to blame for such a feeling. It came with the profession. The formidable belief that you were changing the world, even if it cost giving up your own sanity.
 He was so thankful you understood. And you were thankful he did as well. The mutual understanding was something neither of you had in previous relationships, at least not to this level. Sure, previous partners of  yours knew of your profession and what you did, but they never really knew the extent of it until they had witnessed it first-hand. And it wasn’t a problem until you’d withdraw from your own existence. You would lose interest in the smallest of things, sometimes to the point where food wasn’t even an option for you. Finding solace in the cigarettes and cheap coffee you’d consume on your way to the office or with your own colleagues. You pitted the opposing party in these situations. Your self-awareness sometimes failing you to see that you would neglect your partners from being so involved with your job. Only realizing once they’ve been long gone, leaving you confused and a tad disappointed with your behavior. 
Making you wonder if you were even meant to be loved.
But that was until you met Horacio. 
With him, things were unlike any other. He understood. He got it. He knew the game plan and he knew how to play it. Both of you wouldn’t even have to speak a word to understand it had been one of those days. You learned how to read each other based on the most simple microexpressions. Sometimes it was the way he’d breathe. He would hold his breath at times, almost as if he were restraining himself from unleashing the anger he suppressed. Anger at the world, anger at the people who would do their part to make the world a shitty place. Anger at Pablo Escobar. 
Horacio couldn’t even begin to understand a man like Escobar. Why build your empire above the souls of Colombia? Why paint the walls with the blood of those whose lives you felt entitled to take? Who was he to choose who got to live and who got to die? 
The thoughts faded as he walked inside the only place that managed to bring him tranquility. With a deep breath, he allowed himself to engulf the feeling of calmness. The warmth of your shared home embraced his very soul, settling in his bones and scaring away the ache and weariness that usually resided there. He couldn’t hold back the smile that formed on his face as he walked deeper inside, looking for you. 
He heard you before he could see you. A string of quiet curses that left your mouth, along with things hitting the floor. The faint melody that flowed from the radio got louder as he approached the bathroom. Finding you haunched over the edge of the bathtub, you're back facing the door. As much as he wanted to surprise you by wrapping his arms around your waist, he couldn’t bring himself to scare you like that. Fear was an ever present feeling in your field of work and he was not about to let it follow you home. Instead he just learned against the frame of the door, delightfully observing you. 
You were setting candles around the edge of the tub, trying to somehow make it look… romantic. Inviting? Relaxing? You weren’t even sure what you were going for. All you wanted was to do something nice for Horacio, you knew how hard of a time he was having lately. He wasn’t the only one, sure, but as the Colonel and head of Search Bloc, he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. You wanted to relieve some of that pressure he carried, at least for this moment. 
You checked your watch, lifting a fist in a celebratory manner as you managed to finish before Horacio arrived home. Or so you thought. You had completely forgotten to retrieve the matchsticks to light the candles. Challenging yourself to go downstairs and get the matchstick box in under ten seconds, you turned and tried to make a run for it when you collided with a goddamn human brick wall. Oof.
You instantly felt arms wrap around you, trapping you in place. A smile immediately appeared on your face as you looked at the man who embraced you. Horacio planted kisses all over your face, making the most exaggerated kissing sounds as he did so. You giggled before you gently shoved him away, suddenly realizing he was home and your surprise was ruined.
“Why are you here? You weren’t supposed to be home for another twenty minutes!” you couldn’t help but whine, you really wanted to surprise him with this.
Horacio smirked, walking towards you with his hands on his hips, “I can always go back to the office and crash there. Would you prefer that, mi amor?”
You walked backwards, rolling your eyes before they settled on his gaze. The back of your knees softly touching the side of the tub, coming to a stop. You mimicked his posture, hands on your hips and a playful look in your eyes. “You’re more than welcome to do so. You probably wouldn’t even last five minutes before complaining about–”
He caged you in between his body and the tub, towering over you and wrapping his arms around you once again. His fingers making contact with the parts of your body that were the most ticklish. Wanting to make you regret your words.
You laughed as he tickled you, trying to squirm and get out of his grasp before it could continue. You jerked back to try to avoid his hands from touching you, but he had grabbed you by the waist and you forgot where you were and you lost your balance and the next thing you knew, you were falling backwards into the full tub and on your attempt to grab onto something, you ended up grasping his biceps and pulling him down with you. 
Horacio was a man of deliberate decisions. It’s one of the characteristics that got him to the position he held. When you came into his life, he threw all sense of premeditation out the window and knew he would follow you till the end of the world at a moment’s notice. The risk he took was calculated, but man, was he bad at math. 
He tried to act quick and move so he wouldn’t fall completely on top of you and crush you, but that didn’t work out. You started laughing once again as his weight held you down, the look of oh shit we fucked up evident on his face and you couldn’t even look at him because you weren’t sure what was funnier, that look or the fact that both of you had fallen into the tub, his drenched military uniform clinging onto every part of his body. The usually military green turned even darker as the water made contact with it.
He stopped caring about what happened when he heard your laugh, and he couldn’t help himself from joining you. The both of you now looking at each other and finding humor in the fact that both of you were completely wet. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him in even further, not caring about the situation anymore. 
He looked down at you and let his laughter subside, the feeling of adoration taking over. He was completely enamored with you and couldn’t even tell you because he was sure there was not a word on the planet that could convey the feelings he had for you. Horacio placed a hand on your cheek, leaning in slowly and taking in all of your features. 
You pulled away just barely enough to miss his lips, a smirk settling on your face as you told him, “you’re definitely sleeping at the office from now on.” 
Whatever quick comeback he tried to come up with disappeared when he felt your lips press against his.
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astraystayyh · 9 months
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I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE HE'S SO GOOD LOOKING I FEEL LIKE THROWING UP ENOUGHHHHHHH STOP THIS MADNESSSS THE GLAZY LIPS AND THE EYEBROW PIERCING I FEEL LIKE IM BEING TORTURED
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its-my-whump · 6 months
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Whumpril 2024 - Day 8
Bloodshot
@whumpril
Tw: language!, vomit, helplessness, implied beating, anger
The door bell rang for the 4th time. "Bloody hell." Caretaker mumbled to himself, paddling the blanket away and crawled out of his bed. The room was chilly and a quick look, showed a blurry 2:48 am on his alarm clock. He brushed a hand through his own hair and over his sleepy face to get his bearings, while coming up to his legs.
Shuffling towards the front door it rang again. "Yeah, coming." He half loud mumbled again, naked feet left prints on the cold floor making a path to the door.
His hand grapped for the door handle. The moment he pulled and some weight started to press onto the doorleaf from the outside, the thought jumped in, that at this time of night, it could easily be some buglars.
Surprised by the weight on the door, he had to hold it strongly, so it wouldn't push him away.
A step to the side. No burglars! His hand automatically let go of the handle and he stepped forward to catch the limp body.
The door flew open, his own body was almost pulled down, when he took a hold of the dead weight now in his arms. "Johnny? Fuck!"
He grapped his friend under his limp arms and pulled him completely inside the appartement. An elbow against the lightswitch and a hard kick to the open door. It fell shut with a bang, at 2:49 am in the morning.
Caretaker pulled Johnny to the couch and laid him down on the cushions. Getting to his hunches, a few light slaps to the pale cheek. "Ey, Johnny. Can you open your eyes for me, man?"
Half a minute passed, some more light flaps and the limp form stired on the couch. Eyelids fluttered open, it looked exhausting, just watching the attempt. His eyes bloodshot, some veins dark red in glazy white, his iris too small for the semi dark room. His left eye already swelling shut.
"The fuck, man! What happened?"
Some undeceiferable movement in his ghostly white face. Dry lips weakly parted, to reveal bloody teeth. "T..th...they got m..." His jaw visibly clenched. Caretaker, yet shocked by the forming bruise on his left side of his face, but still quickly thinking on his feet, grapped for the bowl of some rubbish from the coffeetable and emptied it.
Johnny was already retching and weakly leaning towards the edge of the sofa. The bowl went under his face and Caretaker turned away. More out of respect as of disgusted. He studied Johnny shaking body from his kneeling position.
His friends short hair was sweaty, spiking in all directions. Only now Caretaker saw the blood on the back of Johnnys head. Sweat was glistening on his pale, almost translucent face. A stream of blood had painted a red line down into the back of his collar. He was shivering all of a sudden and Caretakers hand took a hold of his shoulder. Johnny flinched, wiggled in pain and a moan slipped out. Caretaker pulled carefully on the collar of his friends shirt and took a glimpse of the purple bruise, that was creeping up his back.
Johnnys fingers were digging into the couch, knuckles white from strain, but bloody from fighting back.
"Fuck!" Caretaker exhaled, then he got angry. "I'm gonna kill these cowards."
My masterlist
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btsxmalereaders · 2 years
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When it rains in your heart, I'll take you with me.
♡ pairing — lee minho x male reader
> genre — fluff | angst
> word count — 708
> summary — it's been a bad day and it starts to rain, but fortunately minho is there for you.
> a/n — hi. it's been a while but i'll hopefully keep up the next weeks and my writer's block will end. i miss tumblr and you guys a lot. hope you like this :-)
☆ Masterlist
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"Hey, wait, you're walking too fast!" Minho manages to say in one last breath before taking a big gulp of air and resting a bit, his hands resting on his knees and his back hunched over, catching a glimpse out of the corner of his eye that you follow at a hurried pace, oblivious to his request.
When you are a few meters away, he sighs and hurries to keep up with you, noticing that the sky is a little grayer than it was a few minutes ago and feeling a slight breeze on his face. "Come on, ____, could you calm down a bit? You look so upset that you look like you're walking around with a gray cloud over your head, do your emotions control the weather, perchance?" Minho tries to joke to at least get a smile out of you, but since you're still scowling and your hands forming fists, that's when he feels worried.
"____, honey, what's going on?" He pleads, grabbing you by your wrist, in an attempt to stop you. He, at first, thought you were just tired and desperate to get home, but he now notices the tears and your eyes and reddened cheeks. "Prince, please tell me something, why are you crying?"
You finally stop walking and take a deep breath, wanting to feel calm and stop you from crying, but your breath is shaky and it only provokes you to cry out even more. Minho doesn't hesitate to give you a hug, his left hand on your back and his right hand over your head as he holds you close to his body, your head resting on his shoulder. The breeze now has become a light rain.
Minho is careful, he caresses your back and lets you cry, feeling confused but not asking questions until you're ready to talk it out, even when he's worried sick. His mind starts imagining scenarios of what could've happened while you were taking your classes, but he has no idea, he just wants you to feel comfortable and safe.
The rain starts pouring hard as the minutes pass by, so he immediately grabs his backpack and places it over your heads, "Baby, let's go home, okay? I don't want you to get sick."
You nod and start walking right next to him, almost running to the crowded bus stop, but he makes sure you are feeling okay. He kisses the top of your head occasionally and once you're finally on the bus, he takes out a small towel from his backpack and helps you get your hair and face dry.
After a few minutes, you both arrive home, so he grabs your hand and run to the entrance, getting even more soaked, so the minute he gets to open the door he looks up for towels, wrapping you with them and not even caring he's soaked and dripping.
"Take off your shoes and let's go to our bedroom." He softly says as he sees you trembling. His heart aches when he sees your red eyes and a small pout on your face. "Come on, baby, I'll get you dry clothes."
Once you're in the room, you both slyly take off your clothes. Minho immediately takes your favorite pajamas from the closet and places them on the edge of the bed. You dry with the towel he just gave you and put on your clothes as Minho does the same afterwards.
It starts thundering and he knows it scares you a bit, so he doesn't hesitate to give you a tight hug and whisper sweet things to your ear.
"Wanna get into bed?" He asks as your breath and body is becoming heavier.
"Yes, please." You whisper and lay down, grabbing the blankets to cover you both.
"Alright, do you want to talk? Wanna watch something?" He asks, staring into your glazy eyes.
"No, I just... wanna sleep a bit. Is that okay?" You mumble, making him smile.
Minho presses a kiss on your forehead, "Of course, my prince. Let's sleep."
You close your eyes, not hearing anything but your boyfriend's heartbeat and calm breath, feeling safe in his warm embrace, feeling loved and happy to know there's not a thing he wouldn't do for you.
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isaut · 1 year
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𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒐 𝒄𝒖𝒑 — beidou x fem!reader. 1k. part of 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆, a southern au.
for @lorelune who asked: ophelia!! for the beidou country commentary drabble 👀 red solo cup or need you now? 👀💓💓💓 tw for alcohol, cookout at 2am, beidou likes banana pudding
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Drake— 12:02AM
I think it’s time for you to come and get your girl. 
[Attachment.mp4]
You open the attachment to see a shaking video— The shakes caused by Drake’s laughter. There are a few notable things about the video: the obvious flash, the way in Beidou’s stance, the Toby Keith’s ‘Red Solo Cup’ in the background. 
She has one arm slung around Kazuha’s neck, the other holding a tall can of Pabst Blue Ribbon in her hand. Upon seeing the light from the video, Beidou turns in its direction. 
Her words are slurred, but the correct lyrics are definitely leaving her lips. As the song shifts to the slower bit, where Toby Keith swears his lifelong friendship to a plastic, red cup, Beidou balances her can between her arm and her breast, and holds Kazuha’s face in her hands. 
There is nothing but sincerity and alcohol in her eyes. 
The video cuts out as the song picks back up and Beidou releases her friend in exchange for lifting up her can and continuing the joyful, goofy song. 
With a fond sigh, you collect yourself. Exchange your sleeping shirt for a large tshirt, one you stole from Beidou, and a set of sleep pants from the Walmart clearance rack. 
The drive over to where the party is happening— A crew member’s house that you’re able to locate thanks to Beidou’s smartphone location being shared with you— only feels long due to the lack of lighting. There are few times you wish you drove a truck instead of a small, cutely colored VW Bug, and now is one of those times. 
Pulling up, your headlights flash against the newly developed house and the underdeveloped back yard, where singing and loud music can be heard from. 
You leave the car running, wanting to be in and out as quickly as possible. You have reality TV to watch. You have a long evening of rejecting your drunken girlfriend’s advances ahead of you. 
You give hugs as greetings to those that you recognize– All vaguely from Beidou’s work. A few you’ve run into at the bar. A few have even been over to your place for a barbeque that you were solely in charge of drinks and decorations for. 
You make eye contact with Kazuha, who is mid removing the beer from Beidou’s hand and bringing it to his own lips. He claps her on the shoulder and points over at you with his beer-hand. 
“Oh, shit!” Beidou exclaims. “Shit, that’s gonna be my wife! Kazuha, d’ya see that?” 
Your face fills with warmth as you walk over towards your girlfriend. She releases Kazuha, in favor of walking over towards you. There’s only a little stumble in her walk. She crashes into you, pressing a messy, beer-flavored kiss to your lips. 
Letting her down gently, you pat her shoulder to push her away. 
“Hi, honey,” You say, “Ready to go home?” 
“With you?” Beidou asks, eye wide and glazy. 
“Course, with me. I would hope so,” You say, “C’mon, my car’s right over here. You have your phone on you? Your wallet?” 
Beidou dramatically pats her jeans and nods in affirmation. “You gonna make me pay gas money?” 
You laugh, shaking your head. “No, baby. We’re just going back to my place. Say bye to your friends, I’m ready to be in bed.” 
“With me though,” Beidou says, smiling happily. 
You give your girlfriend a soft smile. “Say bye to your friends, be polite.” 
Beidou wraps her arm around your shoulders and turns slightly to wave at her crew members. She points at you and shouts, “She wants to take me home tonight!” 
“Go home!” “You’re drunk!” “See you Monday!” Is chorused back to her. 
“Alright,” You say, patting Beidou’s hand. You open the passenger seat for her and make sure she’s buckled up before closing the door. 
Climbing into the driver’s seat, you discover Beidou is already going through your things. Examining your center console, the shader above the seat, and the snack basket you keep in the back of your car. 
There’s still music playing from your car’s speakers, and you glance over at Beidou. “If you want a snack baby, you should have one.”
Beidou looks up at you with her mouth slightly open and her eye wide. “Really?” 
You make good use of the dirt driveway to do a three point turn that’s more of an eight point turn out of the driveway. “Yeah, of course, honey. I don’t know what I’ve got still in there. It’s been a while since I’ve been drivin.’” 
Beidou grins. “I know why that is,” She says, resting her head against the headrest and looking over at you. “I’ve been drivin’ you around instead. As it should be.” 
“And I’m sure you’ll be drivin’ me around real soon again,” You say. 
“I hope so. Do you think we can go to Cookout?” Beidou asks. 
“Yeah, we can. Want a milkshake?” 
Beidou nods, reaching across the console to place her hand on your thigh. Just as she would have if she’d been driving. “Yeah. You wanna know somethin, baby?” 
“Sure,” You reply. 
“I’m gonna marry you one day. And not just cause you’re takin’ me to Cookout.” 
You laugh, “I’d hope you’re marryin’ me more for than a quick ride to Cookout.” 
Beidou hums, scrubbing her clothed eye gently. “I will be, don’t you worry. Ugh, my eye fuckin’ itches.” 
You glance over at her with a bit of pity for a moment before putting your attention back on the road. “I bet a milkshake and washin’ your face will fix you right up.” 
“Are you gonna get somethin’ too?” Beidou asks, shifting around in her seat to pull out her wallet. “I wanna make sure you’re eatin’ too.” 
“I had a big dinner,” You reply. 
When you pull up to the Cookout drive through, you place Beidou’s order for her. It’s a burger, cheese bites and hushpuppies with a banana pudding milkshake. When the cashier asks if there’s anything else y’all want (at least, that’s what you assume, as the microphone seems beyond disrepair), Beidou leans over and places your order for you. All with a smug grin on her face as she hands you her credit card. 
“You’re impossible,” You huff, taking the card from her. 
“You love me,” Beidou replies. 
Smiling, you look over at Beidou. “You love me, too.” 
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animedogoftheday · 1 year
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Today’s anime dog of the day is:
Glazy and Madeleine from Tenmaku Cinema (2023)
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