#his size changes at his own will so he could shrink down more; at least so u could see his face

[darabeatha]

/ L.ucifer being as big as a ship (can be even bigger than that or shrink much more, it depends) and holding ur muse in the palm of his hand and all u can see are huge blinding red eyes

[bibliophilesince2003]

Oplita Oneshot

This is based off of Transformers One. I've been itching to write something wholesome, and I absolutely adore Optimus and Elita as a couple. Normally, I put my writing on Wattpad. Then again, those are usually full-length stories. It just made sense to do this particular oneshot here. Perhaps I'll do more oneshots of my favorite fandoms in the future.

So, yeah, this is for my fellow die-hard Oplita fans.

Also... this takes place after the ending of Transformers One, maybe a few months or so after the ending. Sorry, I'm not sure what a month is in cybertronian terms; Google was unhelpful. If you have not seen Transformers One in its entirety, this one shot may not be as impactful as it could be.

-

Optimus ducked as he walked past the door frame, mumbling to himself. His eyes were glued to the data disks in his hands; he had grabbed far too many. A few dropped to the ground. He bent to pick them up, but only lost more in the process. Optimus shook his head and resorted to sitting on the ground, spreading out the data. Now he could read them better, though some of the works and markings were faded and illegible. He grunted, his legs getting in the way. Being taller and bulkier had its advantages in battle, but he couldn't exactly crawl through vents like he used to. Bee had joked that perhaps the Matrix of Leadership had a "switch" for shrinking, but Elita said that size didn't matter. Then, she promptly added, stupidity was sure to remain.

He was glad he didn't intimidate her, even after becoming a prime. Her suggestion to "adapt" to sudden change was both firm and helpful, though harsh. Now, it settled deep in his spark, and he began to overthink. What if he didn't adapt? Would she think less of him?

A memory flashed through his mind, eliminating his worries about Eilta. He may have been dying, but he remembered catching a glimpse of Elita leaning towards the edge of the well when he fell. It was both shocking and endearing, but he was glad Bee yanked her back. It warmed his heart before pain overtook it, pain so great that it rendered him unconscious. He hadn't mentioned it to her, and he didn't think he ever would. It would be a secret to hold on to, at least for the time being.

Optimus was so engrossed in his work he didn't hear the automatic doors open. When footfalls finally reached his ears, Optimus scrambled and gathered up the data disks to the best of his ability. Elita and a few of her soldiers in training turned the corner and walked down the hall. Elita put her hands on her hips.

"And here is our leader, on the ground and sorting through old data disks like a desperate scavenger. Don't worry; he's tougher than he looks."

"That's reassuring," said one of the trainees; a pink and white female cybertronian.

Optimus cleared his throat, gave a lop-sided grin, and backed up. He dumped the data disks on a table and apologized, though it was mostly for Elita's sake. When he returned to the group, Elita gave him an amused look, but waved a hand in front of the trainees.

"This is Arcee, Smoke, and Cliffjumper. It's part of their training to visit the archives. A tactical warrior is just as powerful as a physically strong one."

"Wheeljack was part of your training program, wasn't he?" Optimus asked.

Elita rolled her eyes, and Cliffjumper answered for her, holding back a laugh. "He got bored."

"He joked about starting his own group; a group that didn't mind going the extreme," Smoke said.

He paused, then added to his statement. "Maybe it wasn't a joke."

"It definitely wasn't a joke," Arcee said.

"I'll have a talk with him later," Elita said, and Optimus nodded.

He stared at the wall just above their heads, lost in thought. Elita straightened.

"You ok?" she asked.

"What?" Optimus snapped out of it. "Oh, I'm fine."

Elita turned to address her trainees. "Meal break. Get your energon and look over some of the data this place has to offer that you think will benefit you. I want you at the station in a couple of hours; no sooner, no later. Got it?"

They nodded and obeyed; heading down the hall and turning the corner. Silence fell as their chattering grew distant.

"I said I was fine," Optimus said, attempting a laugh.

It sounded hollow.

"What's wrong, Pax?"

Optimus' shoulders dropped in surrender. When she called him that, he always felt inclined to answer, as if he were a miner under her command again. "Pax" or "Orion" would only come from her, though, and she never used it in front of others. He was to be Optimus Prime to everyone else; a title that carried authority and a great deal of weight. All cybertronian citizens were aware that their life could never be the same; many were expected to train. Really, he wasn't the only one experiencing change.

"I don't know if I can do this," Optimus blurted, clenching his fists.

"You're going to have to be more specific," Elita said.

"I'm a prime, but I've never led. I'm expected to fight in a war that hasn't begun but haunts the future. I think we both know Megatron will be back; he will want to take my place. Maybe he should."

Elita sighed and took Optimus' hand. "Come on."

Dazed, Optimus nodded. They walked down the hall and through various rooms. Neither of them let go, fingers tightly intertwined.

"Find a place where we can talk, Pax. I haven't broken in here like you have."

"Commander's orders," Optimus said, picking up the pace.

They entered a dimly lit, musky room. Elita coughed, letting go of Optimus' hand to wave her hand in front of her face. "Couldn't you have picked a better place?"

"The worst places are often the best places," Optimus said.

"Is this vagueness going to be regular thing, now? I hate it."

Optimus braced his back against a shelving unit, though it didn't contain very many data disks. With a grunt he gave a few hard shoves, and the shelving unit moved to reveal a broken door that led to a precarious platform overlooking Iacon.

"Is this how you would get in?" Elita asked, coming closer to observe.

"No; there were more dangerous entry points with small ventilation systems. I got stuck for a full twenty minutes, once."

"And to think... if you had just stayed there, we could have avoided all this chaos."

"What... and have Cybertron miss this charm?" Optimus motioned to himself.

Elita rolled her eyes, but Optimus caught a small smile. He backed up, letting her go first, and Elita stepped onto the platform and approached the edge. She leaned forward, and Optimus sucked in an inward breath, squeezing past the door frame. She sat at the edge, legs dangling. As soon as Optimus sat beside her, she spoke.

"You won't know how to lead."

Great. Another one of her "encouraging" pep talks. Elita turned her head and waited until Optimus locked eyes with her.

"What I mean is... leading can never be mastered," Elita said. "So, you need to act like you have it all figured out. Voice your fears with the ones you trust, but don't put them on public display. You're right; Megatron is out there somewhere, plotting your demise."

"I don't like the thought of preparing citizens for war," Optimus said.

"It has to be done. The few already capable fighters we have don't stand a chance."

"I know."

"We have to win," Elita said.

Silence fell. They could both agree on that. Elita put a hand on his shoulder.

"You are nothing like Megatron."

"I... try to envision him as he was. He was my greatest friend, Elita. And yet, anyone is capable of betrayal."

"You may doubt yourself, but I would never betray you. Even when I seemed your enemy, yelled at you, and -"

"Punched me in the face?" Optimus offered.

"Yes, even then, I never hated you. You were just... too ambitious and eager for my taste."

"Interesting," Optimus said, looking upwards in thought.

Elita laughed and knocked him in the shoulder, and Optimus gasped dramatically and fell, rolling closer to the edge of the platform.

"I thought you would stop punching me," Optimus groaned, finally sitting up when Elita's eyes widened, no doubt worried he might fall, or perhaps having PTSD of when he had, in fact, fallen.

"Oh, come on! That wasn't a punch," Elita said.

Optimus laughed and stood up, offering a hand. Elita took it, and he helped her up.

"What were you doing rifling through the data disks, anyway?"

"I'm trying to find what remains of Alpha Trion's wisdom. The Matrix of Leadership offers many surprises, but I'm without a mentor. I wish he were here."

"You have everything and everyone you need," Elita said.

Optimus dipped his head, and Elita placed her hands on either side of his face, lifting it back up. "I expect you to be on the training grounds this afternoon. Maybe you can convince Wheeljack to join the group."

"Would they listen to me?"

"You have an axe for a hand. How could they not?"

Optimus laughed, and Elita lowered her hands, nodding in satisfaction.

"Thanks, Elita."

"Any time, Pax."

[hotchs-big-hands]

What did you call me?

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|8.3k words

Aaron Hotchner x plus size fem!reader

NSFW Minors dni please

Warning(s): fatphobia, angst, body insecurities, comfort, smut, fingering, daddy kink/sir kink, spanking, body worship, sex toys, unprotected sex, just generally very smutty lmao

When Dom/sub couples begin to show up murdered mid-coital, the BAU team is brought in to solve the case. But as more couples are found and the unsub remains undetected, it becomes an undercover mission. The posing Dom/sub couple in question? Your intimidating, attractive boss and you.

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Hiiiiiii 💖💖💖 just wanna say thank you so so much for enjoying this lil series, the response has been amazing!!! It really warms my heart so again thank you so much!! I really hope you enjoy this last chapter and here's to more fics in the future!! I hope you all enjoy 💖

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From the moment you arrived back at the station you could feel the stares from the officers around you, zeroing in on you like a pack of wolves. You wanted nothing more than to shrink into nothingness, anything to stop them staring at you. You remembered that you still had that damn collar on and made quick work of removing it, but now you had nowhere to put it. Your bag was in your hotel room.

Reluctantly, you approached Emily, who was chatting quietly to Spencer whilst waiting for your unit chief to... re-emerge. Spencer blinked as he caught sight of the lovebites that were starting to really set in on the bare skin of your chest and neck. Emily smirked at you when she spotted you but you tried to ignore it.

"Em... I was wondering if you could put this in your bag for now?" You asked, holding out the collar whilst your cheeks flushed. You kept your gaze elsewhere, anywhere but your two friends. She chuckled.

"I mean, you could just wear it."

You clenched your jaw and stepped closer, anxiety beginning to bubble inside you.

"Please, just put it in your bag! I'll take it back off you when we get back to the hotel, but for now please take it off me."

She stared at you for a moment, then a wide grin stretched across her face.

"Alright, alright I was just teasing. Save that begging for Hotch. I'll take it for now, alright?" She teased, making Spencer take a large gulp of his coffee, brows raised and eyes wide and you scrunched your own shut for a second.

"Could have worded that differently but... Thanks." You handed the collar to the raven haired woman and she shoved it into one of the side pockets of her bag. You exhaled and wrapped your arms around yourself again. There was a flurry of footsteps behind you and your shoulders tensed up, not daring to turn around at the risk of facing Hotch.

"-We'll have to start conducting the interrogation without him, I'm not waiting around forever." You heard the chief of police say and your eyes glanced towards Spencer and Emily, equally sharing an exasperated expression. Sighing quietly, you turned around and came face-to-face with the chief, Rossi, Derek and JJ, who looked a little stressed out.

"At the very least, allow us to do this. If you go in there hot-headed, she's going to just seize up and not say a word." Rossi said and you glanced at him, before quickly looking away.

"Are you suggesting I don't know what I'm doing?" The chief turned around to stare down the seasoned agent, who didn't even batter an eye.

"I'm telling you what you need to know. We know how to deal with these things. Yelling at a suspect like this isn't going to get you anywhere."

Clearly dissatisfied with this, the chief spun on his heel to storm away when he seemingly finally noticed you were there and the expression on his face when his eyes sharply analysed you from head to toe made your chest tighten.

"You couldn't have gotten changed before you got here?" He asked gruffly and you squared your shoulders.

"No, why would I? There would be no point in me going back to the hotel to change my clothes and then travelling back here." You said. He sneered at you.

"Well no-one here really wants to see you dressed like you're trying to be a tart. You don't have the body for it anyway."

You couldn't stop your mouth from falling open in shock and dismay, paralysed by the harsh words. The room around you seemed to move, but you couldn't register that your friends and colleagues were in motion, the chief suddenly out of sight. This wasn't the first time, nor would it be the last time on a case you'd face such things from disgruntled detectives, police officers and the like, but no one would be so daring as to say something like that in front of the others. You'd never spoken about it to anyone, feeling embarrassed that you were treated as lesser than them. But now... Now they all knew.

You felt a hand on your shoulder which made you flinch and snap out of your daze.

"Hey... Come on." It was Derek's voice. You slowly turned to him and saw the concern deep-set on his face. You sighed a little and fought back the ache in your throat, the stinging in your eyes and the tremble of your lower lip.

"I'm fine. Who's doing the questioning?"

With a slight shake of his head, Derek placed his other hand on your other shoulder.

"Don't worry about that right now. What he said to you; it's a load of shit, okay?"

You didn't know what to say, so you shrugged. His hands tightened slightly, his concern deepening. His eyes glanced behind you and he communicated wordlessly with whoever it was, then his eyes returned to you.

"Prentiss and Rossi are going in there for now. You and I are going to get you something warm to drink, okay? We'll see where's still open right now." He said with a gentle sternness. You knew there was no point in trying to debate him on this, so you offered a small smile.

"Alright."

Even with this little bit of respite from the humiliation and pain you felt, soon to be holding your favourite warm drink whilst your friend did his best to make you smile, you knew the moment you were alone in your hotel room there would be nothing to stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks and soaking into the pillows.

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Half an hour into the interrogation, Derek held the door open for you to slip into the viewing room to listen and watch. Your eyes darted around the room and your shoulders slumped; Hotch wasn't there still, but the chief was. He side-eyed you, looking a little pale and swallowing thickly before he returned to watching Rossi and Emily talk to Tanya. Why wasn't Hotch here still? Even if he had become...aroused during the undercover work, surely he would have returned to the station by now. You held back a sigh, instead sipping your drink as you analysed Tanya. There was no space for distractions, for silly thoughts. And yet...

Yet you couldn't stop thinking about him. Why he hadn't returned still. Was he avoiding you? Maybe he felt regretful for having to do those things with you. Maybe he was disgusted by you. Maybe-

Warmth surrounded you. Expensive fabric draped over your shoulders and suddenly your senses were overpowered. His cologne, his natural musk. Oh...

Cautiously, you peeked to the side and glanced up. Your mouth fell slightly open. Hotch gazed down at you, his eyes were already on you and your heart ached and your stomach felt fluttery. You noted that he was more well put together than earlier, as though nothing had ever happened. You turned away quickly, hoping the interrogation would be over soon so you could escape. This wasn't fair. Why...why did you allow yourself to let your guard down when you were doing the undercover work with him? You were embarrassed. Surely, he would have easily picked up on the fact that you weren't even acting, especially when the two of you made it to the bed and his lips were on your skin. At this point, you weren't so sure how you were going to return to work as normal after this.

"(L/n). Are you okay?" Hotch asked you quietly, pulling you from your thoughts. Shit, you hadn't realised tears were brimming in your eyes. You cleared your throat, refusing to turn from the viewing window.

"Oh yeah, I am. Just the adrenaline slowly dying down now." You said lamely. He laid a hand on your arm, willing you to turn to him. You tensed up at his touch, making him drop his hand and his brow to furrow.

"I'm not sure you are."

You couldn't do this, it was stupid. Stupid to be upset about a job, about your boss doing what you were supposed to be focussed on. You turned to the window again and looked down at the drink in your hand, delicate swirls of steam rising from the liquid.

"I think they're close to getting a confession from her."

"(L/n)." Hotch's voice sounded tight but you held firm.

"I just want to focus on this," you glanced at him and felt your heart clenching tightly, you almost hated the concern etched on his face. "Please."

Defeatedly, he sighed quietly and nodded.

"We'll have a talk later, then."

Your hands were trembling the next time you took a sip of your drink.

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There was no respite for you even when the interrogation was over. No, you'd made haste leaving the station after handing Hotch his jacket back, not giving him time to speak before you were rushing away, and even managed to travel with Rossi once again back to the hotel with Derek and Spencer in the back. And yet...

Yet your dear colleagues weren't about to let you wallow by yourself. All you wanted to do was change into your pjs and, frankly, cry yourself to sleep that night but JJ and Emily all but refused to return to their hotel rooms without making sure you were okay. It wasn't unwelcome, per say, but you wanted time to yourself to just process everything and let your emotions out alone.

And so you were curled up on your bed, still in the damn dress and lingerie, shoes long since kicked off at the door for the last time and pantyhose discarded in your bag, hugging one of your pillows to your chest. The two women watched you cautiously, both perched on the bed with you.

"Does it happen often?" Emily asked gently. You nodded glumly, eyes trained on the bedsheets.

"For about 70% of cases we go on I come across at least one person who treats me like that."

"Please try to tell one of us if it happens again in future, (Y/n)." JJ gazed at you and placed a hand on your arm. "I mean, if you told Hotch he would -"

"-no! I'm not telling him or would ever tell him about this!" You hissed, panic rising within you. "That's such a stupid thing to do. I'm an adult, there's no need for me to tell him people are being rude to me like he's a-a- a freakin' teacher or my dad or- Just no."

Before either of the women could say anything to counter this you glared. "And neither of you should tell him too. Keep him out of this."

"(Y/n), it's just important you don't let others to keep treating you like this. Hotch cares a lot about you. I mean, he's been asking about you because he worries about you. And that's only us that we know of him asking." The raven haired woman spoke softly, it made you grit your teeth and squeeze the pillow tighter.

"It's only because he's noticed I've not been focused enough at the moment." You muttered, not wanting to feel the flutter in your stomach. Maybe he did care, but not the same way as you cared for him.

Emily sighed quietly and lay a hand on your shoulder.

"Hey... Look, I'm sorry for teasing you about him. I don't mean any ill-will, I just think you both should get together."

You glanced at JJ, who smiled in agreement, it didn't stop the swirling thoughts in your head though.

"It's fine. I just..." You moved one of your hands to brush against one of the lovebites on your neck, unsure how to word what you wanted to say. "I guess I just, well, got too caught up in the moment that when the suspect burst into the hotel room I had to face reality. Hotch, he's my boss, nothing more. He's much older than me, I would just be too immature for him. I also just don't think I'd, yknow...be his type."

You stared intently at the bedsheets now, focusing hard to stop yourself from crying. The older women encased you in an embrace, letting you sniffle quietly as finally a few stray tears escaped your eyes.

"You need to talk to him, okay? If not tonight then maybe when we're back in Quantico." JJ suggested softly and as much as you hated the idea you nodded meekly, considering bringing up a request to either transfer to a different unit or resign. It was a good while before they let go of you, only doing so when you insisted you just wanted to get out of your clothing and put your pjs on. You were exhausted, not so much in dire need of sleep, just mentally and emotionally. With a gentle reminder they were both one message away from being there for you, Emily and JJ bid you good night and disappeared off down the corridor to their own rooms. Finally, you were in solitude. Now you could mourn a relationship that never would be and try to figure out where you'd go from here.

For a quarter of an hour you simply lay on your back with your arms sprawled out, staring at the ceiling as fresh tears streamed down your temples, every so often making your face twitch at the feeling. You didn't feel you even deserved to be so heartbroken over Aaron Hotchner. Neither of you were dating, he never showed any indication that he wanted to date you, nor would that be allowed anyway with his position as your boss. It was all in your head. Your lower lip trembled again as a new round of crying started up. At the very least you should get out of the clothes you were wearing before you gave up entirely on the evening. And so, very reluctantly, you pushed yourself to sit up and began the process of undoing your bra first through the dress.

The instant the clasp came undone you exhaled, feeling relieved. You pulled the garment out through the top of the dress once you'd moved it off your shoulders and dropped it next to you. Your hands drifted to the hem of the skirt, ready to pull it up over your head.

And then there was a firm knock on the door.

Instantly, you felt apprehension flood through you, bristling at the hollow sound. It was eerily familiar, but you weren't feeling in the mood to answer the door, whoever it was there. So you ignored it, opting to pull the skirt up again.

Another knock, more insistent now. With a groan, you rose up on your feet and stormed over to the door, just wishing to be left alone. You unlocked it, swung the door open and opened your mouth to speak.

"Please, just leave me alo-" Your voice died in your throat, eyes bulging wide and your stomach clenching. No... Surely, this was a joke.

"(L/n)." Hotch's voice was soft, deep. You slowly closed your mouth and cleared your throat.

"U-uhm. Good evening, sir." You managed to mumble. He stepped closer.

"May I come in?" He asked you cautiously, eyeing you. You barely managed to say yes to him whilst you stepped out of the way, pulling the door open wider as you retreated, then quietly closed the door behind him. You couldn't turn around just yet.

"C-can I help you, sir?"

"You've been crying."

Ouch. At that, you slowly faced him with your head bowed slightly.

"I may have been, yes."

He watched you, taking in your current state, trying to avoid lingering around certain areas after noticing a few changes since he last saw you. He stepped forward one step, hands at his sides loosely.

"Why?" He promoted you gently. You shrugged.

"It's nothing important."

"But it clearly is if it's making you cry. So please, tell me why you've been crying."

You felt your hands trembling when you slowly tilted your head up enough to gaze at him through wet lashes. He was so fucking gorgeous; the same button down shirt from earlier that night, the sleeves rolled up, those form-fitting dress pants, his beautiful brown eyes and beauty marks on his skin. You felt a fresh tear roll down your cheek.

"I.... I don't know what you want me to say." You finally said after a round of opening and closing your mouth. He frowned slightly, stepping closer to you enough for you to have to lift your head up more if you wanted to look him in the face.

"Dave told me what the chief of police said to you. I had....a word with him."

Your eyes widened and you stumbled further into the room, running a hand over your scalp.

"Oh fuck, that goddamn Italian man. I swear...." Your hands curled into fists and you closed your eyes for a second. "You didn't need to do that. I'm fine."

"Yes I did. I won't stand for anyone in my team being treated like that." He countered you, not breaking his stare. Your face fell, shoulders drooped slightly and you wrapped your arms around yourself.

"I... I'm tired, I was getting changed. Is it okay if we just talk about this another time?" You mumbled softly, refusing to look at the man in front of you.

"No."

You blinked, then looked up at Hotch wide-eyed.

"I'm sorry?"

He stepped closer still, eyes on yours as he gazed down at you through those gorgeous eyelashes.

"I said no. It's important I settle this now with you." He drew in a deep breath and rolled his shoulders back. You were entranced, you couldn't help it. "I need to make sure you know you did very well on this case, that you always do. But during this one you were exceptional."

You trembled a little, you could feel the warmth radiating off him and your brain felt slightly mushy from the praise.

"I..."

Hotch's eyes narrowed slightly. Your breath caught in your throat as you gazed up at him, blood rushing in your ears.

"You never seem to know what to say when given praise from me. Why is that?" He asked you firmly but not unkindly. You trembled.

"I... I don't think this is something we should be discussing, sir." You managed to mumble but he didn't waver.

"Ever since you joined my team you've always been shy and cautious around me. I originally thought it was just your personality but the way you interact with the others is very different." He was so close to you now that his scent melded into you, his warmth only posing to make you feel all the more hotter. "I began to have my suspicions of why, but it did become apparent to me what was happening. This...case only solidified that."

Oh god. He knew. He knew and still asked you to do the undercover job with him. The blood drained from your face and a coldness flooded your abdomen.

"W-wait, you've known I was into you all this time?!" You were mortified, staring wide eyed at Hotch. "You shouldn't have asked me to do that undercover job!"

You scrambled backwards from him and felt the back of your legs hitting the bed. Hotch watched you carefully, shifting his weight slightly to one hip.

"Perhaps not, no."

"So why? Why ask me to do it?" You pleaded softly, feeling your eyes prickle with tears. He followed you now and cupped your cheeks gently with his warm hands, stuttering your breaths.

"Because I'm a selfish man, (Y/n)." He spoke and you froze. Surely you were hearing him wrong.

"What?"

He smiled, one that you always loved seeing, as rare as it was. He leaned in closer to you, eyes on yours as he was now gazing through his long lashes.

"What I'm trying to say is I have feelings for you too."

No, there had to be a mistake. Your lower lip trembled slightly and your brows scrunched together.

"But...you're not into me... You've never been into me." You said quietly. He stroked your cheeks with his thumbs as he gazed down at you.

"I didn't want to overstep any boundaries. I'm your boss, it would affect you if it was not approved, not me. But also..." He swallowed thickly and glanced away. "I'm too old for you, I have a son, emotional baggage. But I decided to be selfish anyway and have you with me earlier, just so I could have even just a moment of pretending things were different between us. It's my fault, I want you. I need you so much, emotionally, physically, all of you."

You stared at him, stray tears rolling down your cheeks as you tried to process his words. It was unbelievable, never having felt so desired like this. And so you stepped away, turning from him and smoothing your hands over your dress self-consciously.

"Hotch, I... I'm not saying you're a liar but I just.... It doesn't seem realistic for someone like you to be into me." You let out a sad chuckle, moving to grab a shirt to pull on over your dress, expecting the conversation to continue for a while.

And then you heard it. A rumble from Hotch, almost a growl. Suddenly, you felt his hands on your wide, plump hips and he pulled you to him, your back to his heaving chest, a squeak of surprise escaping your lips.

"Does this feel like I'm not into you?" He hissed, pressing his crotch against your body where you could now feel the prominent hardness of his arousal against your lower back. His strong hands dug into the flesh of your plump hips hard enough to probably bruise you and you whimpered.

"H-Hotch?"

One of his hands loosened its grip on you, only to swat at your ass sharply.

"You know that's not how you address me, little girl." He sounded dangerous and it thrilled you to your core. Fuck, you reached behind you to grip onto his shirt.

"Sir?"

"Mhm you don't know how much it affects me when you call me that all the time." He rumbled, kissing the top of your head before turning you to face him again, smoothing his hands over your ass. "And when you called me daddy earlier this evening? I was ready to have my way with you immediately."

Your eyes were blown wide as your heart raced. Feeling his erection against your body... The coldness within melted away, leaving a burning hot need for him.

"I... I liked calling you that." Your voice was barely above a whisper, he smiled slightly.

"Oh?" He leaned closer, his mouth near yours now. You hesitated.

"Y-you really are into me, then?"

His gaze softened, setting your heart ablaze.

"Very much so. May I kiss you, sweet girl?"

You shivered.

"Please, please kiss me."

With a hum that vibrated through his very being, Aaron pressed his lips to yours softly, a feeling you'd been craving ever since earlier that evening. You tilted your head to deepen it, hands pressed against his broad chest whilst his own encouraged you to roll your hips against him. Your panties felt slick by this point, and he pulled away just enough to let you both breathe, a string of saliva connecting your mouthes.

"Sweetheart, let me prove to you what I say is the truth." He said softly, eyes boring into yours through heavy eyelids. You nodded slightly, earning a squeeze of your ass cheeks. "I need to hear you say it, little girl."

You gulped, cheeks hot.

"Please... Please show me, daddy."

He smiled, then pulled you over to the bed and laid you out.

"Such a pretty girl, all for me."

Climbing onto the bed, he crawled over to you and kissed you again, hands roaming over your cheeks and down your neck to your shoulders. As his hands crept to your chest you whimpered, pulling your lips back a little.

"I- before you came here I already took my-my bra off so... Uhm.." you trailed off awkwardly, earning a low chuckle.

"Oh, sweetheart, if I hadn't already noticed this the moment you opened your door to me I would be a fool. Will you let daddy touch them, hm? He's been wanting to touch your pretty tits for a very long time." He murmured against your lips and you nodded meekly, then quickly verbally said yes when a rumble vibrated through his chest.

"Please, daddy."

He groaned and his hands slid towards your chest. "Such a good girl."

God... His large hands cupped your breasts gently, thumbs brushing over your peaked nipples through the fabric of the dress. You gasped, thrusting your chest up into his touch, to which he chuckled again.

"So needy for daddy's touch. Don't worry, sweet girl, daddy is going to make sure you never miss his touch again."

You moaned quietly, shifting to spread your legs so he could slot between them, the dress riding up your thick thighs as the fabric stretched. He pressed his crotch to your clothed slit and you mewled at the throbbing heat from him. He became more handsy, squeezing your breasts and pressing his face down to the valley between them, inhaling your scent, kissing you, sucking the skin. Your head was swimming. This was real, not an act for work. He was rolling his hips into you, groaning against your skin as he left multiple lovebites all over your chest. Your hands played with his soft hair, strands sticking up in different directions now and driving you wild. He sucked harder on your skin with every whimper and moan that escaped your swollen lips.

He pulled back suddenly and his hands slipped down to the hem of your dress.

"I want to see you, sweetheart. Will you let daddy take your dress off of you?"

You froze. As briefly as you had been mostly unclothed before Hotch earlier, this felt different. You felt vulnerable, shy. You bit your lip, making his brow furrow slightly.

"Sweetheart?"

"I... I don't know if you'd wanna see me naked. I mean, what if you don't really...like what you see?"

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, but a frown had begun to make itself aware on his face.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me? Knowing you don't feel good enough for me makes me angry, sweetheart." He said, playing with the hem. "Not angry with you, but everyone who's made you feel as though no-one would desire seeing your body."

His fingers ghosted over your clothed pussy, making you tremble and gasp out. You knew he could feel how saturated your panties were from the way he prodded his finger more firmly against you, the thought made your slit clench. His finger was so big against you...

"I... Mmm, I have just dealt with some stuff in the past, but I won't let it ruin this for us." Hotch's frown didn't waver at your words, his finger against your pussy stilled.

"You don't have to take your dress off if you're not comfortable, sweetheart. Nothing will ruin this, you aren't ruining anything. I want you to feel good, to understand in your own time that I desire you so badly. It's not about just sex, I desire you in all aspects. But I don't want you to be uncomfortable, okay?"

You felt yourself smiling at his words, burying your face against his chest momentarily as you giggled.

"You're making me feel all bubbly. I'm comfortable with you very much, Aaron. I... I feel confident enough to let you take my dress off." You said lightly, leaning back again to smile up at him. His mouth was slightly agape, slowly returning the soft grin.

"You called me Aaron. I've never heard you call me that before."

You were beaming now, pulling him down again to kiss him.

"Well I've not had the opportunity to until now, it was Sir, Hotch or daddy-"

Aaron's thumb brushed against your clit suddenly, your body freezing up at the sensation. You gasped out, spreading your legs wider still and feeling him smile against your mouth.

"You can call me Aaron next time, sweetheart. I like the way it sounds coming from you." Your mind fixated on the words 'next time', until his hand moved from your slit to tug on your dress. "Now then, sweetheart, let's get you out of this dress." He said and began to pull the velvety garment up your body.

You resisted the urge to curl in on yourself when the expanse of your thighs was revealed, the rolls and squish of your stomach and waist, up, up, up and over your head until you lay bare besides your panties. His eyes remained on yours as your chest heaved, nervousness creeping back into you. And then slowly, his eyes drifted down your body, taking you in little by little. His hands smoothed over your trembling thighs to soothe you, thumbs brushing against the sensitive skin near the heat of your panties.

"So fucking gorgeous." He rumbled, pressing his hips against you again. "Can you feel that? Can you feel me twitching against your little pussy? You're so fucking sexy, I need to fuck you real good, sweetheart. Will you let daddy take your panties off you?"

You thrust your hips up against him, whining at the feeling of his clothed cock twitching in his tight dress pants. You pouted.

"Only if you take something off too, daddy."

Aaron chuckled as he leaned down to kiss your forehead before he slowly unbuttoned his black dress shirt, revealing the plains of his broad chest and slightly soft stomach to you. You couldn't help but follow his hands as they moved down, zeroing in on the thick, dark hair of his happy trail which poked out the top of his trousers. Faded pink scars from Foyet littered his torso, your chest tightening at the sight of them. Shakily, you reached out with your hands to press against his skin, hot to the touch. He was shaking ever so slightly.

"You're so beautiful, like...really fucking pretty, sir." You said softly, eyes slowly drifting up to his face when he let out a chuckle.

"Pretty girl, tonight is about you."

You pouted.

"You deserve to feel desired and admired too, sir."

He smiled gently, leaning down to kiss your lips tenderly. His bare chest was pressed against yours now, a sensation that made you shiver and your inner thighs throb. It was heavenly, he was so heavenly. Reluctantly, he pulled from the kiss and his hands moved to the buckle of his belt, ready to unbuckle it. Your heart leaped, feeling giddy as you moved to kneel up and your hands grabbed his wrists. Aaron raised a brow at you, making your cheeks flush.

"I- please, let me do it for you, daddy." You felt shy about your eagerness, but the look in Aaron's dark eyes made you squirm.

"Aww, my pretty girl wants to help daddy, hm? Well, since you asked so nicely.."

He dropped his hands now, letting you remove his expensive belt. Your hands trembled when your eyes flicked to the bulge straining against the zipper, your mind finally catching up with you. You were a couple garments of clothing away from seeing your boss' cock, something you'd only thought about in passing or dreamt about many times. But now... Now you were going to see it, touch it, feel it inside you. Maybe one day he would let you taste-

"Sweetheart? We don't need to do this if you're not comfortable." Aaron's voice brought you back to the present, gentle and reassuring and a little concerned. You blinked, then realised you'd been staring for a moment too long.

"O-oh! No, I want to! I, uhm, I got lost in thought. I didn't expect my night to go this way." You said sheepishly, gripping onto the waistband of the black dress pants. "N-not that this is bad! I'm actually embarrassed to admit this but I've only really dreamed about this happening so..."

You glanced away, cheeks feeling flushed and you slumped back a little bit, missing the way Aaron's eyes followed the movement of your body and the jiggle of your breasts.

"Oh? You've dreamt about me, have you? Dirty girl. You'll have to tell me about these dreams another time." He teased you, causing you to clench your thighs together. He took your hands and moved them to the zipper and catch on his trousers with a smirk. "Come now, sweetheart. You know what you want to do."

You bit your lip, humming quietly and your fingers worked quickly, albeit clumsily to unfasten the trousers. Aaron was more than eager helping you ease them down his hips, revealing more of that delicious happy trail and then you were face to face with his straining black boxers. You couldn't stop the whimper from bubbling out of your throat at the sight of a damp patch of precum in the fabric where the tip of his cock was, feeling shy but eager you were the reason for it. You wanted a taste, needed it, but as you leaned down to press your lips to the fabric Aaron moved his hips away, chuckling when you whined.

"Sweet girl, I'll let you have a taste next time. Tonight is about you, though." He cooed, cupping your cheeks and stroking his thumbs against them. You straightened up again to press your lips to his, hips swaying as his clothed cock slipped between your thighs snugly and rubbed against your tingling clit. His hands trailed down your shoulders and smoothed round to your ass, encouraging you to roll your hips into him. He moaned into the kiss, squishing your ass cheeks tightly. You could feel his cock twitching against you, making you shiver.

Aaron's fingers curled around the band of your panties and you squeaked, feeling his mouth smirk against yours. Carefully, he slipped them down your trembling thighs and helped you pull them off your legs. You let out a jittery breath, now completely naked before him. He lay you back again and took in your full figure, breathing heavily with a rumble deep in his chest. You bit your lip, tempted to cover yourself up with your arms.

"W-what- do you think?" You asked meekly, nervousness beginning to seep into you. He knelt between your thighs and stroked the skin soothingly again.

"Sweetheart, you're breathtaking. I could worship you all night if you'd let me, help you realise just how sexy you are." His words made you blush and slick to trickle out of your pussy. Your hands moved to cover your face, a high-pitched whine escaping you.

"Shush! You're making my brain feel fuzzy!"

You let out a cry when one of Aaron's hands lightly slapped your thigh, pressing his crotch up against your slit.

"Little girl, don't be a brat now. Daddy wants to make you feel good but he'll have to punish you if you're naughty." He hissed, gripping your thighs and squishing the flesh of them sensually. "Now, let daddy see your pretty little pussy."

You whimpered but didn't resist when he slowly spread your legs, revealing your puffy pussy to him. He hummed as his eyes trailed over the slick folds, smirking slightly when they twitched involuntary.

"So pretty, just like the rest of you." He murmured, hands creeping closed to your slit until he thumbs were able to pull the dewy lips apart, exposing your hole and clit to him. You couldn't take it anymore.

"Please..."

He raised a brow at you, the smirk only growing on his handsome face.

"Please what? You need to tell daddy what you want."

You wiggled your hips, inching closer to his bulge and moaned.

"Please touch my pussy, daddy! Need it so bad, want daddy inside me."

Aaron groaned, leaning down to press a rough kiss to your mouth and your hips jolted when you felt the fingers of his left hand slide against your slit directly, coating themselves in your slick juices.

"Fuck, you're going to be the death of me, sweetheart." He growled. You jolted again as his wet fingers brushed over your clit, gasping out when he swirled the digits around the sensitive bud.

The fingers moved further down, teasing your entrance and then he slipped his middle finger inside your tight walls, slowly thrusting it in and out. He hummed, his other hand grasping one of your nipples and pinching, kneading, melding it. His ring finger slipped inside you next, stretching you out more as he scissored the two fingers. He plunged them as deep as they could go until you were able to feel the back of his other fingers against you.

"Mmmh... So big..." You moaned, eyes fluttering shut as Aaron fingerfucked you gently. He chuckled.

"Daddy has to make sure you're prepped for his cock, sweetheart."

The fingers curled upwards inside, feeling around until you cried out, eyes blowing wide from the intense sensation that burned within.

"F-fuck!"

Aaron didn't let up, thrusting and curling his fingers into the same spot, coaxing moans and whines from you. His hand picked up speed, the sticky sounds of your slick entered your ears but you were too hazy to be embarrassed. The pleasurable burn within your lower abdomen only intensified as his hand slapped against your pussy, the palm bumping your clit. You tried to scrunch your eyes shut, but the twist of your nipple shocked you to keep them open.

"Eyes on me, sweetheart. Let daddy see you when you cum." Aaron commanded, his dark eyes ablaze with desire as your moans pitched higher and your hips rolled into his hand. It was all too much then, your eyes rolled back and with a cry of his name you cummed hard, clenching around his fingers as slick gushed out of you. His fingers didn't let up, prolonging your orgasm and making your legs shake. When your body began to spasm the fingers slowed down, sliding out of you carefully and letting you have a moment of reprieve. Your chest heaved, your eyes fluttered shut as you slowly came down from the mind-numbing pleasure.

"Good girl, such a good girl. You looked so beautiful cumming for daddy." You heard Aaron groan in his sensually deep voice, causing a smile to grace your lips. Your heart was racing, slowly calming down as you lay there and distantly you could hear rustling of fabric and feel the mattress moving beneath you.

But then you opened your eyes wide when you felt something smooth but unfamiliar touch your chest and you gasped when you realised what it was.

"A-Aaron?" You squeaked. Trailing across your skin in Aaron's hand was the fucking remote control vibrator. He chuckled quietly as he circled one of your nipples with it.

"I thought we could make use of it. You don't know how much I've been thinking about this little thing ever since I found it in the suitcase." He eyed you, stilling the movement with a slight crease in his brow. "If you're comfortable with this, of course."

You barely managed to nod at him and bit your lip, letting it slowly slip through your teeth.

"Mhm I would, daddy. Please." You whined, rolling your hips and gasping when you felt flesh instead of fabric against your mound. You didn't know how you'd not noticed his boxers had been removed and now your eyes focused on the deliciously girthy cock at the base of Aaron's dark pubic hair. It was lengthy as well and slightly curved upwards, with prominent veins trailed across the flushed shaft. "O-oh fuck, you're so big, daddy!"

Aaron hummed and moved the vibrator to swirl around one of your nipples, not switched on yet still.

"Little girl, now you see why daddy needed to prep you, huh?"

Your drooling hole clenched in anticipation and you reached to grasp his thighs as best you could.

"Mmmh, daddy please..." You mewled rolling your hips desperately. He smirked and the vibrator came to life. You gasped out again and thrust your chest out towards him, the vibrations against your nipple sending pleasure straight down to your lower abdomen.

"Does my sweet girl need daddy's cock inside her?" Aaron placed the small remote down beside him and grasped his length and stroked the tip around your swollen clit and you moaned softly, hands slipping from his thighs to grip onto the bedsheets.

"Please fuck me, daddy! Need to feel you inside mmh.." you begged him and spread your legs wider, so eager for him. A low groan vibrated through Aaron's throat as he leaned down to press a hungry kiss to your throat.

"I don't have a condom, I didn't really expect to need one." He admitted softly. You wrapped your arms around his body and angled your hips upwards.

"I'm clean, on the pill as well."

Another kiss to your throat, then Aaron was pulling away to tease the tip of his cock against your hole. You shivered, gazing up at him through slightly hazy eyes.

"Y-you really want to...yknow..." You trailed off, not wanting to say it. He stilled, tilting his head slightly.

"Of course I want this with you, sweetheart. We'll take it slow, but I promise you I want this so much." Aaron soothed you and you felt a wave of emotion wash over you, tears prickling in your eyes.

"Okay, I believe you."

He smiled softly, before the seductive smirk returned and you could feel a little pressure against your hole.

"Daddy's going to fuck you now, sweet girl. Try and stay relaxed for me, yeah?"

Slowly, inch by inch, you felt the tip of his cock pop inside your clenching hole and both of you gasped at the sensation. Fuck, he was already stretching you wide and this was only the tip. There was a slight burn accommodating the stretch as he slowly slid inside, the veins of his cock teasing you and making you moan softly.

"F-fuck!" You cried out when eventually his hips met yours, his big cock bottoming out inside you. You could feel it twitching.

"Oh, sweet girl. You're squeezing around me so tight." Aaron hissed through gritted teeth. His body was trembling slightly, struggling to maintain control all because of you. He moved the vibrator down your body from your breast and pressed it to your clit. You moaned at the new feeling of being stimulated whilst stuffed with cock, admittedly helping with the pain of the stretch until the discomfort faded, leaving behind a need.

"P-please, please move, daddy..."

Painfully slowly, Aaron pulled his cock out until only the tip remained, before thrusting his hips forward and bottoming out again. You gasped out, eyes blown wide and your hips bucked upwards. He groaned, repeatedly thrusting his cock in and out slowly now.

"Good girl, you're doing so well for me. You feel so good, so wet and soft."

His pace quickened, as did the vibrations of the toy against your clit and you whined, hands moving to cup your breasts and pulling at your nipples. Aaron swore, thrusting roughly when he watched your hands move.

"Fucking good girl, show daddy how you like your pretty tits being touched." He growled, holding the vibrator more firmly against you and with his free hand he grabbed your thigh to press it down into the bed. You matched the movement of your hips to his and continued stimulating your nipples.

"Y-you're so deep inside me, daddy! So big!" You wailed with every thrust, your moans and whimpers growing louder and louder. He growled again, thrusting faster still until you felt yourself closer and closer to cumming again. Aaron knew from the clenching of your walls around his cock, his mouth falling open slightly.

"Are you going to cum again, huh? Gonna cum for daddy again?"

You nodded as you moaned loudly, eyes unseeing as your mind grew hazy with pleasure.

"Yes! Gonna cum! Please let me cum!"

With a harsh few more thrusts stimulating your nerves you cried out loud, eyes focused on Aaron's as you cummed hard, slick dripping onto the bedsheets and coating his cock. You felt so twitchy but Aaron didn't let up, thrusting into you still but moving the vibrator down closer to where you body met his. It was unmoving at this point, however.

"That's it, such a good girl. Daddy wants to try one more thing though," he grunted with the force of his thrusts. You were bordering the line between cumming again and overstimulation, the removal of the vibrations holding you on the verge.

"Do whatever y-you want to me, daddy-" you choked out. You didn't care what he did, you trusted him. Wanted him to play your body in any way he wished at this point. And so when you felt him slow his thrusts down so he could slip in a finger inside you alongside his cock you whined loudly. The finger was gone after a moment, but you hadn't the time to protest when the vibrator replaced his finger, slipping inside you along the top of his cock until it was nestled against the spongy spot on the roof of your hole.

Your eyes widened, a broken moan tumbling from your mouth. Holy fuck, you didn't expect this from your boss of all people. And yet that made it all the more erotic to you. Aaron switched the vibrator back on and he thrusted roughly, teeth gritted and his body shuddering.

"Fuck, this thing is more strong than I expected-" he gritted, holding back from fucking into you again whilst he adjusted to the sensation of the vibrations stimulating him as well. You giggled, only to be cut off when he intentionally thrust forward. "Brat."

Gradually, he picked the pace up again and you became a writhing mess beneath him, moaning and pleading him to move deeper, faster. Aaron gripped your thighs now, both hands free to manhandle you. He pulled your legs up and pressed your knees to your chest, the new angle making your eyes roll back and your pussy to gush.

You were close, and you knew Aaron was reaching his own orgasm at this point with the ferocity of his cock fucking into you. You moved your hand to rub your clit rapidly, your noises pitching higher as you cried his name over and over.

"A-Aaron, I'm gonna cum! Gonna cum- oh!" You wailed, Aaron groaned as he pressed his lips to yours messily, hips stuttering slightly.

"So am I, sweetheart. Want me to pull out?"

"No!" You cried, eyes flicking to his as you grabbed him with the hand that wasn't rubbing your clit. "Want your cum inside me, please!"

It was enough to send you both over the edge, Aaron bottomed out as your back arched, breasts thrust up to his chest as your orgasm ripped through you violently. You heard him moan your name as his cock twitched inside you, ropes and ropes of his cum spurting out inside your clenched pussy. His hand clumsily fumbled for the remote and the vibrations stopped, allowing you both to slowly calm down. Aaron pulled the toy out of you, dropping it onto the bed next to you and made a move to roll off you. You whined in protest, wrapping your limbs around him and pulling him down to lay on top of you, his softening cock still inside.

"Stay..." You mumbled softly. Aaron hummed and kissed you, cupping your cheeks.

"Good girl, are you okay?" He whispered, pulling back just enough to smile at you. You smiled in return, eyes fluttering shut.

"Never felt better, Aaron."

"Good, I'm gonna need to clean you up now though, okay? Need to make sure you're okay."

You pouted, but knew he was right. Still...

"Just a moment more, please?" You opened one eye to look at him, at his beautiful smile. He chuckled and sighed.

"Alright. Only for a moment. Then when I've cleaned you up I'll be right back to cuddle you."

You were beaming now, feeling the happiest you'd been in a long time.

"Promise?"

"Promise. I do have to ask though," Aaron gazed down at you and you raised a brow, prompting him to continue. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

You squeaked and moved your hand to cover your eyes whilst you giggled.

"Yes! I'd love nothing more."

Things would be okay, you just knew it.

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

There was a change in you the next day, everyone could see it. You were so...cheery, a pep in your step as you boarded the plane with the others. You sat down at the table and curled up on the seat, a giddy smile twitching at the corner of your lips. Derek raised a brow.

"You're pretty happy this morning, sugar." He said. You grinned at him.

"I guess I am."

"Any reason as to why?" Emily cut in, smirking at you. At that moment Aaron approached the seat next to you and sat down, sending you a soft smile with a raised brow and you had to hold back a giggle, looking away from him.

"Nope." You responded. Under the table Aaron took hold of your hand and squeezed. You'd never expected an undercover job as intense as this would result in a new chapter in your life, but you wouldn't change a single thing.

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

And that's it! Thank you all so, so much for joining me for this lil series 😭💖 it's been a hell of a time writing it but it was so much fun! I really hope you all enjoyed this final installment 🥺🥺💖💖

Taglist: @cr1minalskies @modern-mermaid @aaronhotchnersgirlfriend @aaronhotchswife @emptybagofchips77 @crimeshowjunkie @igotanidea @gogococopuffs @prentissesredtanktop @louderfortheback @howabouticallyou @lalalove-56 @abbyschmaby @constantwritingblock @boredelle @powerlvr25 @aad199 @idkbubs @mrs-ssa-hotch @emptybagofchips77 @justarandommom @yourmomsmilfmistress @bellagomez-barriga @jesuisbenny @nplumb22 @supercriminalbean @elijahmikaelsonbitch @wowzabowza69 @frostingway @simpingfortoomanypeople @munsonsposts @marvelsmistress @babezawa @spenciesprincess @creepysweetie @bruhhvv @regulus-black-223048 @brasspistol @0nex-is-dead0 @livingdeadmak @myescapefromthislife @sebastiansstanswhore @bumblebea-xo @hangmandruigandmav @sareim123122 @magical-spit

[artificial-transmutations]

Hey! I really enjoy your stories! You're very talented. For an idea, was thinking a story where a girlfriend catches her boyfriend cheating and turns the two of them into gay lovers? In any event, thanks for all the content!

Cheating never pays

"Babe, please, let me explain! It's not what it looks like!" Gus was only wearing a towel around his waist as he stood before his girlfriend, Chrissy.

Chrissy was looking at him, hands on her hips, a disappointed frown on her face. "Oh, I don't think you need to explain anything, it is exactly what it looks like!", she shouts angrily, looking over to the open bedroom door, where she could see the other woman in the bed, pulling up the blanket to cover herself.

"Look, I'm really sorry about that, but I just can't help it." Gus said. He didn't look at Chrissy while he said that. Instead, he stared at the ground, biting his lip. "It's not like I feel anything for her, too, she's just some woman!" Gus quickly added. "You just can't help it?" Chrissy was fuming now. "What are you, some kind of animal?! Is it so hard to just keep your fucking dick in your pants?" "Calm down! I'm a man, you know that, and men have needs. It's not my fault you're never 'in the mood'!" Gus shot back. The other woman had climbed out of bed by now and was getting dressed. She couldn't help but smile a little at the fact that Gus was forced to explain himself to his girlfriend - a fact that was not lost on Chrissy. "And what about you?! Are you a man, too, with 'needs' and no self-control?" she yelled at her. "Oh, I have self-control, alright. I just have needs, too, you know? Besides, I think you're exaggerating. I didn't do anything wrong here! The name is Kelly by the way. "

"Great! Nice to meet you, Kelly! Would you like something to drink while my boyfriend fucks you?! " Chrissy shouted sarcastically. Kelly had difficulties closing her blouse. It was like it was at least two sizes too small in width, but too lose in the front. "Well, I guess not, seeing as you have nothing to offer!" she retorted. "You bitch!" Chrissy shouted. "Chrissy, please!" Gus said. "Kelly is just… someone. Some bitch I picked up, there's nothing to it!" Gus tried to salvage the situation. A mistake, clearly, as Kelly turned towards the man now. "I'm just 'some bitch'? Ha! If I remember correctly, the only bitch here is you." She had given up to close her blouse now, but it wasn't necessary to be decent anymore. Her once ample breasts had completely receded into her chest now, leaving her flat-chested like a slim man. "Really", she continued, "you with your constant whining and begging and excuses. It's pretty clear who the bitch is in this relationship." With each of her sharp words, Gus felt himself get weaker and smaller. He lost some of his height, a good deal of his muscles, some of his fat even, leaving him much smaller and slimmer by the end of Kelly's sentence. Kelly however seemingly absorbed everything that Gus lost. Her height shot up a good head, giving her a commanding presence, while the blouse finally fell off her frame, leaving her naked from the waist up. Her hair receded into her head until it was just a very short buzzcut. Her muscles inflated somewhat, adding to the intimidating look that was further pronounced by her face, which lost all feminine softness, only to be replaced by raw masculinity. "Hold on now!" Chrissy interrupted. "What do you mean by relationship? Gus here is certainly not much of a man, and you're right that he is a whiny bitch. But he is my sorry little bitch! I own his ass!" As Chrissy spoke, Gus changed further. He dropped the towel, as he could feel his manhood shrink down to half its former size. His build became even more lithe as his face softened somewhat and his hair turned into a non-menacing medium cut dyed blonde. Finally, as Chrissy mentioned his ass, this asset of his expanded to a juicy plump behind. At the same time, radical changes happened to Chrissy herself. The first thing to change was an obvious and huge bulge that formed between her legs. The growing male organ audibly snapped her panties and formed an obscene tent in her skirt. Her whole build changed according to her new gender: Her hips narrowed, and her chest became a set of muscular pecs, supported by a widening frame of shoulders. Her arms also grew thicker; they looked almost brutish compared to how slender hers used to be. Lastly, her face changed. She, too, became short-haired and while her face looked somewhat more brutish and less intelligent, it made up for in determination and anger. She… he was no longer hiding his emotions, but he was living them!

The change wasn't over yet, however, and Kelly smiled broadly at the transformation. "Well, you can tell yourself that you own Gussy here, but I'm pretty sure he would love to be mine. I'm more of a man than you will ever be!" With these words, a coating of manly hair swept over Kelly's body, and she too grew a cock worthy of the true alpha man she was becoming. She had stopped caring about her modesty and had let the blanket slide to the ground, revealing her very erect and large cock to the world.

Both new muscular men glared at each other for a moment, with Gussy fearfully looking between the two clearly superior men. "What did you say your name was?" Chris rumbled. "Ken." Ken growled back. Another moment of silence followed, and the only thing that moved were Gussie’s eyes and two large, throbbing cocks. Finally, Chris broke the silence. "Fine. I guess we can share." Ken nodded happily and shouted a command to Gussy. "Hey, bitch, suck me off, pronto!" As Gussy quickly got to work on Ken's mighty cock, he could feel Chris slapping his voluptuous ass. "I want a turn, too!", he rumbled. and lined up his own cock to Gussie’s ass. All of Chris' anger from before was unloaded by the merciless pounding that followed. Quickly, he and Ken got into a rhythm spit-roasting Gussy, who was overwhelmed by the experience. Every now and then, Ken and Chris kissed over the sweaty back of Gussy and, finally, with a simultaneous groan, both came into their little bitch. The three of them stayed together, after that. For the outside world, they were a polyamorous gay relationship. Internally, however, there was a clear hierarchy. Chris and Ken were together, and they shared their little cum-dump bitch Gussy, who loved to serve both of them and had no say in how he was going to get used.

If you enjoyed this story, be sure to visit my riot page! There's a slightly less censored version of this story and a lot of bonus content, like other picture candidates for this story!

[tercosh]

hey!!

I wanted to ask what you think of wriothesley in vore scenarios?? he has such good potential <3

one of my fav scenarios for him is with lyney! lyney sneaking around the duke’s office during the events of the 4.1 AQ, perhaps shrunken down or smth somehow (to be extra sneaky ofc not for any other reason), only to be found by wrio, who makes sure lyney keeps his silence by swallowing him.

Hello, my favorite blogger, I'm so glad to see a request from you!

And oh, yes, Wrio is simply the king of the vore. I'm sure he would constantly flirt with his naughty victims.

Since Lyney is the owner of the pyro element, digestion in someone else's tummy would not be fatal for him. Rather, it was simply an offensive and humiliating experience. Okay, I won’t delay any longer, get ready to read. SORRY FOR THE MISTAKES OUR COUNTRY DOESNT TEACH US ENGLISH

The soft soles of Lyney's shoes walked quietly on the floor in the duke's office. He planned to grow back in size at the very last moment and attack the thief of his brother and sister. Poor boy was so confident in himself that he was incredibly surprised when Wrio suddenly grabbed him with his palm and raised him to the level of his own face. Lyney got scared and began to look around, thinking how to quickly escape from someone else's gaze. Duke, however, squeezed the illusionist in his hand, bringing him closer to himself.

At this moment, Lyney could have sworn that he heard someone else's stomach growl. Not a good sign. However, Wrio acted quickly. Now Lyney was pushing the wet walls of someone else’s esophagus with his own face, hearing the approaching seething sounds. Finally, this long corridor ended and gravity literally began to push him into his tight stomach. And so, the gulps did not stop there, and duke realized with relief that he had reached that wonderful point of no return, when all he had to do was raise his head and straighten his throat so that the losing boy could very smoothly pass on. Wrio's belly has become noticeably rounder.

BbUuoORrp~

Wrio could now exhale calmly, beginning to feel how Lyney began to slowly change his position inside. As soon as Lyney started moving, the upper part of someone else's strong belly grabbed him and simply fixed him in this position, leaving him only able to scream, but not kick. Throughout the nearby district one could hear how actively Wrio's tummy began to work to overcome such a small victim.

Wrio belched loudly and uncontrollably again. There were a couple of slaps, and then there was an attempt to hide a very loud burp, which literally took out some of the air, forcing the victim to shrink even more tightly inside the impressive tummy. Although he didn’t look that big, as if the duke’s tummy or abs were stronger, which is why, in attempts to regain his size, he simply squeezes incredibly tightly everything that gets into his stomach.

Lyney did not give up trying to get out, for at least a long time he tried to spread the upper sphincter of the stomach in order to get back through the mouth, and even attacked the walls with all his might, but his arms, weakened from lack of oxygen, simply could not break through. He felt humiliated, but other people's rough pats and tummy rubs gave him the incentive to fight further.

Wrio was filled with the desire to tease the victim, so he began to drink tea without interruption, laughing, belching and massaging his belly.

I AM SO SORRY I AM REALLY BAD AT THIS

[blametheeditor]

A Little Bit Goes A Long Way

Run Down: To be faced with your own mortality, would it change you for the better, or worse? David never thought he'd have to answer such a question.

Content Warnings: Cursing. Death scenes. Slight gore. Mentions of death and murder. Peril. Calling someone 'it' or 'thing'. Experiments. If you're new to this household, only happy endings, but certainly a roller coaster

*Cough cough*

______________

One minute, David is storming into the kitchen to demand why it’s taking twice as long as usual for food to be delivered out into the dining room. 

The next, the suited man is nearly sent flying back into the hallway from the swinging door slamming into him. Barely gets out of the way in time before a shoe as big as a bus stomps on him. Feels his limbs lock up and refuse to move as he slowly realizes what’s in front of him. 

He’s still in the kitchen of Fazbear Entertainment Center, all too familiar with the layout he changed around after signing paperwork that made him the sole owner of this franchise restaurant, as well as the faces of those he hired who were competent enough to keep their jobs for more than a week. He had opened the door a few feet away only a few seconds ago. 

And yet, somehow, everyone and everything currently tower over him. David couldn’t move the door a single inch now no matter how hard he tried. A rolling counter has wheels that are as tall as him and easily provides a place for him to hide. Chefs and waiters seem more like skyscrapers than people he signs paychecks for. 

That’s not the worst part. The sounds of people talking and food being made are so loud it makes his head feel like it’s going to split open. Simple actions such as walking within ten feet of him cause earthquakes that shake him to his core.

David can’t help but stare. He can’t look away despite knowing he could be killed at any moment if he doesn’t get to safety. Feels himself begin to tremble as it becomes harder and harder to deny what’s in front of him is real. 

Even though it’s impossible for someone to suddenly shrink, there’s no denying the proof before him. Unless he’s simply having an incredibly vivid dream, or hallucination, or something because this can’t be real. 

“Are those pizza’s done?” 

“Careful, how many times do I have to tell you-!” 

“Door!” 

David feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and in that moment dives under the service cart that stands beside him. Groans from his ungraceful landing before staring in horror as the door opens and someone steps directly where he had been only a  few moments ago. The thought of what would’ve happened, the idea this isn’t a dream and that could’ve been the end decides he’ll be treating this like it’s life or death. 

The business man tries to ignore his heart thumping painfully against his chest as he watches the bustling kitchen, catastrophic giants unaware of his presence. Reminds himself he can’t get stepped on while he cowers under the service cart. He’s safe, at least for now. Unless someone realized what happened and are searching for him. Or the cart gets moved. Or something gets dropped and- 

“Nope,” David murmurs as he closed his eyes to block out the world, clenching his fists to focus on something other than the constant trembles through the ground. 

Those kinds of thoughts are not helpful. He needs to think about finding a safe place, then figure out a plan on how to get his proper height of six feet. But safety’s first. 

...where the hell would he be safe at a size where shoes can crush him like a spider. 

Taking a deep breath in the attempt to calm his nerves, David opens his eyes one at a time. Forces himself to look at the layout down at the ground. Ignoring the fact everything that’s familiar is now deadly, just focusing on places he can run and hide without putting himself in danger. 

Going anywhere near the door is completely off limits. But if he travels further into the kitchen, there’s potential for a safe place to at least wait until the restaurant closes. Such as the toe kick space under the counters, though there’s not much depth to it and someone could spot him from the right angle. There’s small space under the ovens that goes as far back as the wall and seems to have the most cover, but he wouldn’t know if it’s too hot to stay down there. Out of everything, the pantry might be the best option, with plenty of shelves to hide under, and he’d be the farthest away from any possible incidents prone to happen in busy kitchens. 

With that settled, now he just has to figure out how to get there. There’s no cover between where he is now and the pantry door, just a full mile of open air in which he’d be completely vulnerable to dropped items, shoes, and being spotted. 

An involuntary shiver runs down David’s spine at the thought of someone seeing him. That would open an entire can of worms, especially if it’s realized he’s human instead of a pest. Getting killed is one thing, but there’s no telling what someone would do if they get their hands on him. It could range from making him pay for screaming at them because they weren’t doing their job right, to selling him to make a quick buck. 

A glance is sent toward the wheels of the cart he’s currently using as shelter. Because while this could be moved, it doesn't necessarily mean it will be. It had been put here for a reason. He can’t remember if this is normally here every other day, meaning it’s a toss up if it’ll get moved again. 

Which one’s better, then? Taking a chance out in the open, or hoping no one moves the cart? 

...what if he moves the cart? 

David stares at the large wheels for a moment before walking closer, willing to at least give it a try no matter how ridiculous the idea seems. If this actually works, he’ll take it. Though, he does hesitate to actually touch the wheel once he’s close enough to see just how filthy it is. Flinches when it dawns on him he’ll be covered in dust and dirt by the end of this ordeal. 

He sighs long and hard with the reminder of yet another earthquake it’s either this, or an almost guarantee of getting crushed. Grits his teeth and tries to shove at the wheel with all his might. Growls when doesn’t budge, changing his position only to end up with the same results. Meaning he did that for absolutely nothing. 

David looks back out at the kitchen. Narrows his eyes when he realizes the large island is closer to him than the pantry. And if he runs from the island to the counter...he’ll be covered for almost the entire walk. 

It’ll be a lot more work, and shoes are constantly walking between all of the counters, but it’s certainly safer. 

Now there’s three options. He doesn’t like any of them, but he hadn’t asked to get shrunk so these are the cards he’s been dealt with. As shitty as they are, he just has to make the most of them. 

Honestly, taking the long path to the pantry seems like his best bet. It almost seems like he’s been taking too long, so he needs to- 

His train of thought is lost when he sees a pair of shoes suddenly begin to walk toward him. And then words are booming through the air almost directly above. 

“Hey, is the cart claimed?” 

Fuck. 

David freezes. Almost screams when the wheel beside him is suddenly turning, scrambling to get a safe distance away. Feels his blood run cold when the entire thing begins to move. And then David starts running. 

He runs after the cart. If there was time to think, he might’ve recognized that as the worst thing he could’ve done, but adrenaline had taken control. The only thing he knew was that his only shelter was being taken away, and there was nothing he could do about it except follow. 

It could’ve ended with him getting caught under a wheel. With it stopping abruptly and him slamming into it. Getting left behind and ending up underfoot from someone walking past. 

None of those happen. Somehow by some miracle David stays with the cart before almost colliding with the underside of the counter. As soon as he hits the wall, he collapses, legs trembling so harshly it’s impossible to stay standing. Arms and chest aching after taking the brunt of the impact. 

But he made it. He made it and that’s all that matters. 

The business man pants, choking on air a few times. Takes a few minutes to slow his breathing and calm his racing heart. Makes the promise to fire every single person on staff for not realizing someone’s peril despite it happening right in front of them. It would be seen as unfair, and he could be sued for a lot of money considering he most likely wouldn’t be able to prove anything, but the thought makes him feel a lot better considering everything. It’d also be worth it. 

David doesn’t know how long it takes to recover, just that it’s dangerous for him to stay any longer. So despite the fact his limbs are still shaking, he carefully pushes himself to a stand. Absolutely refuses to take off his suit jacket even though that would make running easier and help keep him from overheating. Like hell he’s loosing an expensive piece of clothing. He might be shrunk and fighting for his life, but he still has standards. Would rather die with dignity over living with a tarnished reputation. 

Call him shallow and egotistical. The train of thought was able to calm him down, however. Distracted him from the thundering footsteps walking right past him as he walks under the cabinet's toe kick. Hoping its true purpose is rarely used. Unsure if he should be glad he’s short enough he doesn’t have to worry about hitting his head on the overhanging wood, or miffed that he’s shorter than four inches tall. 

The conundrum is forgotten as he turns a corner and becomes face to face with clog, one that’s not blocking his way, but the toe of the shoe so close David could walk forward and shove at it. 

Of course that wouldn’t do anything. The owner of the shoe wouldn’t even notice the attempt. With such a catastrophic object that he’s been terrified of ever since shrinking just staying in one place, it’s almost a slap in the face just how small he really is. He’s not even the size of a mouse that can easily clamber over the shoe. More like a large insect that would need to laboriously climb if it blocked his path completely. 

...he didn’t even think about that. Giants are terrifying, but what if he encounters animals at this size? There’s no shooing away a rat or crushing a roach beneath his shoe, they’re now threats to him instead of nuisances. 

Good news, as long as he doesn’t leave the restaurant, he should be perfectly safe. He ensured all pest had been eliminated on the first day, and has an exterminator on speed dial whenever someone reports having seen so much as a shadow creeping along the ground. 

As for the giants, he can hope he doesn’t have to interact with one anytime soon. 

“Is an oven finally open?” 

“Everything that was cooking the previous round is done. Did you forget to pull the pizza’s out?” 

Part of David wants to yell about how much those he hired are dumbasses to not check if something was left in the oven. The other part slumps in relief as the person standing at the island quickly leaves. The only condolence is the fact it doesn’t smell like something’s burning. 

He needs to focus. Forget about what’s happening around him, concentrate on getting somewhere safe. Fire everyone later. 

David looks across the vast distance from where he stands to the line of cabinets that connect to the pantry. This time, there isn’t a service cart to act as cover as he runs across. It’ll just be him, completely exposed. 

He already feels himself begin to shake at the thought of making such a risky move. His muscles protest at running the large distance in which the only time he’d be able to stop is when he gets to the other side. 

What if he doesn’t make it? What if someone walks by and never notices a miniscule figure? What if they do notice and trap him inside a jar? And what happens if he stays here? The toe kick is only four inches deep, that’s not enough space to guarantee safety. 

David steels himself before carefully leaning out from under the counter. Looks up to barely make out the timer’s on the oven saying there’s ten minutes left. Glances at his left where the pantry sits, door shut tight with the lights currently off. Checks his right to see this area of the kitchen void of stomping shoes. 

Go.

He doesn’t hesitate, knowing this might be his only chance, and sprints. Without a single look back to make sure no one’s coming. There would be nothing he could do, so he runs. Never slows down even as his legs burn from overexertion and his lungs send sharp pains through his chest. 

Then the ground starts to jump. David can see he’s already past the halfway mark, but cover is still too far away. He can’t turn around and go back because that wouldn’t be any closer. And even as terror races up his spine and he feels his adrenaline kick in, it’s not enough. He would be an idiot to ever think he could outrun a giant. 

He doesn’t stop. Though the footsteps growing closer and closer attempt to trip him with the earthquakes they bring. It’s a miracle they haven’t gotten to him. 

Until someone gives a small gasp. 

“Shit, there’s a bug in here.” 

“Are you serious?” 

David doesn’t stop. The counters are only ten feet away he’s almost there. 

“I can’t tell what it is, but I need to finish this. Can someone take care of it?” 

“I’ll get it, where is it?” 

Just a few more- 

The business man crashes into the counters at full tilt, not realizing he had actually made it. He swears he broke something this time. But he’s alive. He’s alive he made it he didn’t get crushed. 

“It’s under the counters by the stove.” 

It takes just a little too long for David to realize what that means. Stares out at the kitchen, almost confused why one pair of shoes is pointed directly toward him. Are taking steps toward him. Because he’s safe, he made it. 

It finally clicks. That even though he is somewhere he deemed to be ���safe’, someone saw him, and they’re coming to take care of the pest infesting an area that needs to be sanitary. 

Once it finally processes David is far from safe, he scrambles to his feet even though he wants to do nothing more than to go limp. He doesn’t know what ‘take care of it’ means, but it can’t be anything good. Where is he supposed to go, though? 

If he was in the right state of mind, the idea of going for the pantry would’ve been recognized as the worst thing he could possibly do. Panic can do so many things, however, and the only thing he could think of was his original plan. Meaning it was the only logical thing to do. 

Yet just as he starts to turn and run in that direction, a hand grabs his wrist. Immediately has David turning to look at who it is, unable to remember why that shouldn’t be possible. 

A teenager stares up at David with wide eyes, tugging at his arm in the opposite direction than was previously chosen. “Follow me, hurry!” 

Any other time, David would refuse. This isn’t any other time, though. No, he was shrunk, had ran for his life, and is now being hunted down by a giant. So there’s not a single protest as he’s frantically led toward the ovens. Doesn’t hesitate a single second to continue following as he’s forced to hunch over to duck into the small area normally impossible to gain access to. Sends a look over his shoulder briefly to catch sight of someone searching all the wrong places for him. 

Then the entire kitchen completely leaves his sight, and he’s left with an alien landscape of metal over his head and a dusty floor. The worst part is how it gets dimmer and dimmer the further they walk. But David is now completely safe from becoming an exotic pet or being treated like an unwanted pest. The teenager who saved him from such a horrific fate never letting his arm go. 

That’s when everything starts to catch up with him. The terror of nearly dying. His limbs completely exhausted. No longer feeling dazed to finally process what just happened. 

“Wait,” David begins, breathless as he comes to a stop. As soon as he does, however, his knees buckle and he sits harshly on the ground. Sighs in relief he can finally rest without the threat of ending up dead. 

Instead of leaving him there, the kid immediately kneels down beside him. It’s almost impossible to make out features and expressions in the darkness, but a stranger wouldn’t be indifferent if the first instinct was to stay close. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” 

David shakes his head.  “Not hurt. Just...ran for my life.” 

“That’ll definitely do it,” the kid murmurs, his voice never raising above a whisper. “I have a safe place we can go, but we can stay here for a bit. We just need to be careful that we don’t overheat.” 

...now that something was said, the business man realizes it is a bit hot where they are. Not burning, but definitely uncomfortable. Especially with the running he previously did and his jacket acting as the main perpetrator for making him overheat quicker than usual. 

But he can survive a few minutes. By then he’ll be able to at the very least stand up again. 

“Here, drink some water.” 

David hadn’t noticed any movement until something is being offered to him. At the promise of it being water, he quicky accepts it, hesitating at the odd texture as his mind recognizes the shape of a cup. Decides it’s not worth making a fuss over and simply drinks. 

It’s water, clean if a bit warm, but he can’t get over just what the fuck he’s using as a cup. “What, is this?” 

“The wat- oh! The cup, it’s just aluminum foil.” 

David stares at the shadowy figure for a moment. Glances up at the metal ‘roof’ above their heads to confirm they’re both only a few inches tall.  “Where did you get aluminum foil?” 

“Long story,” the kid says. “I can tell it to you later. Are you okay to start walking again?” 

David doesn’t want to go anywhere with a complete stranger until he gets answers. Who is this kid? Why does he have supplies? Why was he in the kitchen near the ovens at this exact time? 

It’d be a stupid idea to get on the kid’s bad side now. It was promised there is a safe place to go. So instead of earning himself a death sentence by being left here after making an enemy with the only person who can help him, David bites his tongue to keep from yelling. 

Instead, he carefully stands up, nearly hitting his head on the oven after forgetting there’s not as much space as there was under the counters. “Lead the way.” 

Out of everything, he was not expecting his arm to be grabbed again. “Just to warn you, it’s going to be pretty dark. But I know the way, and I’ve kept the path clear of rodents and insects, so it's not dangerous. Just, terrifying.” 

Wonderful. 

David has to grit his teeth to keep from sprinting in the opposite direction as he’s led to a fairly wide hole in the back of the cabinets. One that’s pitch black and promises a death worst than being treated like a roach. 

Yet the kid doesn’t even stiffen before walking through it. Which means the business man isn’t declaring he’s not going anywhere near it if some teenager is able to be that courageous. Meaning he allows himself to be led down the tunnel without any objection, secretly glad the grip on his arm gets tighter to promise he won’t be let go. 

They walk in complete silence. It amplifies the sound of their footsteps, but it also means they’ll be able to hear something making its way toward them. And then a faint glow appears in the darkness. Getting brighter the closer they get. David feels his chest get lighter when he’s finally able to see there’s a wall to his right, the wooden cabinets to his left, and absolutely no signs of eyes reflecting in the darkness behind him. 

It’s also revealed their destination was a piece of cardboard. 

“Come inside,” the kid encourages. Before David can demand what’s meant by inside, the cardboard is pushed open like a door. 

Admittedly put off by it, David warily walks through the apparent doorway. Finds himself standing in what he can only describe as a third grader’s shitty attempt to make a diorama of their house for a school project. Complete with a bed that’s nothing but a pile of fabrics, a plastic pizza saver repurposed as a table, and odd $1 prizes the restaurant gives away in exchange for tickets scattered across the room that could be interpreted as anything. And he can’t forget to mention candles meant to be put on birthday cakes acting as lamps. 

When he imagined a safe place, an odd hideout tucked in a corner impossible to access from the outside wasn’t it. Then again, what was he expecting? 

After taking in the room, David turns back toward the person who brought him here, finally able to get a good look at the kid now that he isn’t fearing for his life. Looks over the mop of red hair, bright green eyes watching him nervously, the numerous freckles decorating the nose and cheeks. Gives a glance at the patched up clothes so dusty it’s hard to tell what their true colors are. 

“I need answers, and I need them now,” David growls. “Who the hell are you?” 

“My name’s Fritz,” the kid offers quietly. “You’re David, right?” 

“Mr. Harrison,” is automatically corrected. But then the implication has him glaring. “Have we met before?” 

“Briefly,” Fritz begins. “I...h-here, sit down and I’ll tell you everything.” 

David isn’t given a chance to protest. The kid closes the poor excuse for a door before taking off a bag that wasn’t noticed previously to place it on the floor. A cardboard stool for the lack of a better term is then pushed toward him. 

Fritz then grabs an odd vase that looks like it’s made of metal. Untwists the top before extending a hand toward David. “Would you like more water?” 

He's confused, until he realizes he’s still holding the cup from earlier, one that looks like it’s made from the same material of the odd pitcher. Sighs as he hands it over to be refilled, it being abundantly clear Fritz is going to take his sweet goddamn time. David then carefully sits down, genuinely surprised the crude seat holds his weight. Begins to tap his fingers impatiently. Doesn’t think about how his legs appreciate the rest and how grateful he is for the water after such an arduous adventure. 

“When and where did you shrink?” 

David gives a look at the explanation starting with a question. “Not too long ago, about an hour or so. It happened right as I walked into the kitchen.” 

“The same thing happened to me,” Fritz reveals as he stares down at the table. “I walked into the kitchen to take an order out to a table, and then I just...shrunk.” 

David freezes. So this is apparently a thing that just happens? How is that even possible? Have other people been shrunk as well? Why didn’t he notice employees disappearing? 

And why has Fritz stopped talking? 

A sigh is withheld at the teenager looking as if he’s remembering something unpleasant. “And when did that happen?” 

“A-A few months ago,” is barely said loud enough to be heard. 

...wait. Hold on. 

David wants to call bullshit. There’s no way someone only a few inches tall has managed to survive for a couple of months. David almost died within the first hour. Fritz has to be lying. 

Except, the kid can’t be. The pilfered items scattered around the room seems more than what could be collected in a single day, or even in a full week. Fritz also looks underfed and exhausted. The long term kind. Like he really hasn’t had access to proper care for a while. 

Suddenly, David feels sick to his stomach. At the thought someone could’ve been crushed under the sole of his own shoe, and he never would’ve known. At the realization that if Fritz shrank more than a month ago, and is still shrunk, then the business man’s future is bleak. 

“So you have no idea what caused this.” 

“Not a single clue.” 

Then he really is stuck at this size for the rest of his life. However long that is. 

David stares at Fritz. “What have you done during these past couple months?” 

The teenager shrugs, looking everywhere but at the business man. “Surviving. The kitchen wasn’t the worst place to end up since I have access to food and water. After a month I ventured out into the main area after the restaurant closed. I couldn’t really go far, though. The animatronics could spot me, or I wouldn’t get back to safety before someone came in for the morning shift.” 

A shiver travels down David’s spine at the thought of encountering the animatronics at this size. Quickly pushes the thought away for a different time. “And no one realized you were missing?” 

Fritz flinches at his question. Finally meets his gaze with glossy eyes. “Did you?” 

For the first time since he could remember, David feels remorse. For not knowing someone who worked for him vanished without a trace. A kid for that matter. Didn’t care because he fired people daily, what was one waiter out of the multiple he goes through in a single week. The worst part is that instead of someone going into debt or not being able to pay rent for the month, Fritz had been damned to this kind of hell. 

Even though David would never have thought someone shrunk, he should be able to say he at least looked for Fritz. Make a missing report, check the cameras. If he had, who’s to say he wouldn’t have found the kid. Because attempts were most likely made to get someone’s attention. If David had been looking, would he have noticed? 

David clears his throat. “I will not live like this.” 

Fritz shuffles nervously. “Um, is there someone you could call?” 

The business man almost scoffs before freezing. Because he does not like the idea at all. But it’s either call someone who can at least offer help, or live off of dropped crumbs in his own restaurant. And he’d rather die than take the second option. 

“How the hell would we call-” 

David cuts himself off. Doesn’t address Fritz’s confused look, too embarrassed to look the kid in the eye. Instead, he digs his phone out of his pocket. Blinks against the light much too artificial against what the candles emanate. Stares in disbelief he actually has service. 

“Does it-?” Fritz begins, voice filled with awe. There’s no response to his question. David allows the screen to turn off as he stares at it. 

Who should he call? 

David doesn’t trust a single person on this earth except himself. That means he would have to completely rely on someone he normally wouldn’t even at six feet tall. And considering just how small he is, trusting the wrong person could end with his demise, even if that wasn’t their intention. 

Alright, if he thinks about this logically, his best bet would be Scott. Because if anyone knows about dealing with the impossible, it’s the man who’s William’s lapdog. 

...fuck, William. 

David doesn’t know why it took him so long. His boss is a smart man, knows how to get what he wants. But he’s also created a monstrosity David wishes he never had the honor of meeting. And if William is capable of making something like a certain mutated grape he had first been told was a highly advanced AI, then shrinking someone wouldn’t be completely out of the question. 

Why the fuck did William shrink him! 

“Da- Mr. Harrison?” Fritz asks with a worried look at David’s hand clutching his phone like he wants to break it.  “Are you okay?” 

No, he is far from okay. Good thing he’s able to finally take his anger out. Scrolls through his contacts before selecting Scott’s phone number. 

It takes a few moments for the call to actually do through, but it’s picked up on the first ring. “Hello, hello, David.” 

“My restaurant, 8 o’clock sharp. William has given you quite the mess to clean up,” David snaps. Not in the mood for pleasantries. Even if Scott is a giant to him. 

“I’m not a dog,” the sandy haired man growls. “I would also appreciate a little bit more information.” 

“Come to the kitchen, watch where you step, and listen carefully. Is that enough information for you?” 

“David, are you serious? At least tell me what Afton apparently did.” 

“He apparently shrunk me so I’m shorter than four inches tall and currently hiding behind the cabinets,” the business man huffs. 

Scott suddenly goes silent on the other end. When a minute passes, David checks his phone to make sure the call wasn’t dropped. 

“I swear to God,” the older man breathes. “If you’re lying-” 

“I’m not,” David interrupts. “8 o’clock, kitchen, watch where you step.” 

“Stay safe until then.” 

With that, they both hang up. And David’s met with Fritz looking a mixture of horrified, hopeful, and another emotion he can’t quite identify. 

“I, I-I take it you know someone who can help?” the teenager asks. 

Right. Fritz doesn’t know anything about the truth around Fazbear’s. Granted, it took David a few months to have a proper initiation, but he’s not a small fry employee. He has a lengthy contract that ensures his safety while working for the company. The teenager, on the other hand, is as disposable as the other night guards. If he’s being honest, William might’ve assumed the kid would’ve died within a few hours. Might’ve used him as a guinea pig. 

Surviving multiple months at this size is something William would at least have to respect, right? Or, would that just prove the kid is a liability that needs to be silenced. 

Now David’s faced with a choice. Have Scott meet Fritz, and they both confront William on getting the kid back to his normal size. Or, they play it safe, and David promises to find and care for Fritz once the business man is at his proper height. 

One look at the resigned expression conquering Fritz’s face, and it seems like his thoughts were heard. 

“Th-There’s still a few hours until 8. Would you like to rest for a bit?” 

“You won’t leave this room, will you?” David finds himself asking. Not because he’s protective and genuinely worried for the kid who could get into trouble before help arrives. He’s certainly responsible over Fritz, though. Meaning he can’t let anything happen under his watch. 

Fritz thinks it over for a moment. Nods his head. “I’ll stay here.” 

David doesn’t say another word. He drinks the rest of the water, turns to the poor excuse of a bed, and flops heavily into it. Uncaring if the owner hadn’t meant to give him permission to claim it for a nap. 

And if there was any objections, the business man was already falling asleep before he could hear them. 

”You killed him.”

David whirls around to see Scott staring at him like he’s some kind of monster as they stand in a kitchen that’s all too familiar. 

Anger flairs up, and the want to punch the shorter man in the face rises like a tide. He’s being judged like he’s some kind of murderer? What about Scott being best friends to a literal monstrosity? What about him following the orders of someone like William? What about the night guards? 

“I haven’t killed anyone,” David snaps. 

“Oh really?” Scott growls. “Someone didn’t disappear during a shift inside your own restaurant?” 

The business man bristles. “How was I supposed to know! It’s not like I would’ve known he shrunk. And he’s a teenager, they always walk out without telling anyone and just refuse to show up for work the next day.” 

“Do you know how many times he tried to get your attention? Tried to ask for help? Do you know how many times you ignored him?” 

...is that true? Did Fritz make it all the way to his office at some point? Did David nearly crush him like an irate gnat? Unimportant and nothing but a distraction from his work? 

“What about you? Don’t act so high and mighty when you have actual blood on your hands. How many guards died because your recordings didn’t tell them how to survive?” 

“The difference,” Scott muses. “Is you feel guilty.” 

That’s an implication he doesn’t like for numerous reasons. The confirmation Scott doesn’t care people die despite it being his fault. The truth David is remorseful to not notice someone vanishing from his own staff. That he was close to playing a large part in William’s game without even knowing it. That his actions do have consequences. 

“I didn’t kill him.” 

“Don’t lie to yourself. He’s only alive because he fought for his life. You still pulled the plug.” 

“How was I supposed to know!” David shouts. “I didn’t ask for this! My job is to help the reputation of the company, nothing more! It’s not my fault William thrust this kind of responsibility on me!” 

“Neither did I,” Scott says so condescendingly David's fists clench automatically. “You don’t see me mourning every guard that gets killed, do you?” 

“You’re a sick bastard, you know that?” 

“And you’re any better? Tell me, David, what’s the real reason you don’t want to bring him to Afton?” 

“That’d be a death sentence.” 

“Or it’d be his only salvation,” Scott shrugs. “Let’s look at the savior complex you currently have. If you’re truly worried Afton would kill him to tie up loose ends, then what? Would you actually take care of someone you barely know?” 

David bristles. “Of course I would.” 

“Oh?” and he’s this close to giving in a punching Scott. “As a person, or as a toy.” 

He wouldn’t, no, David wouldn’t do that. He’s seen what it’s like being this small first hand. Nearly died numerous times, he wouldn’t offer Fritz help and only treat the kid like a desk trinket. Technically that would still be better than the way he’s currently living, but the business man wouldn’t do something like that. He’s an asshole but he’s not cruel. 

Yet he can’t help thinking about what will happen a month from now. When Fritz becomes more of a burden than anything. The one thing David can’t stand are people who contribute nothing to this world. It wouldn’t be the kid’s fault, he didn’t ask to be shrunk, but old habits would die hard. 

And David...he’ll forget what it’s like to be that small. Will stop being careful, won’t pay enough attention, and get upset if he’s told about his mistakes until- 

“Well?” Scott probes as David refuses to answer. Makes a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat after the silence stretches on. “They deserve more, David.” 

Now they’re talking about more than just Fritz. About the people he stepped on to get to where he is now. Everyone he’s fired from every business he’s helped in his career, uncaring about how it will affect their lives. 

Actually, you know what, he’s calling bullshit. David deserved getting to where he is. He’s done nothing wrong, and Scott of all people has absolutely no right to judge him. 

He gives into the temptation to wipe the goddamn smirk off the fossil’s face. Raises a hand as he steps forward to grab Scott’s shirt. 

Feels his heart stop when he hears a soft scream before it’s suddenly cut off. 

...no. 

He doesn’t dare look down at his shoe. Can only stare at Scott sighing long and hard with a sad shake of his head. “I tried to warn you, David.” 

No. 

“I didn’t.” Panic starts welling up inside him, his breathing getting shorter and shorter. “H-He’s not, I didn’t-” 

“You did.” 

No!

The words are only stated matter-of-factly. As if he didn’t just kill Fritz. After surviving on his own for months, and the kid’s fatal mistake was saving David’s life. 

”Was it worth it, David?”

“No!” 

David jolts awake, gasping for air before a panicked yell rises in his throat when all that greets him is pure darkness. Where is he, where’s Scott, and where’s- 

“David?” a voice suddenly calls. One the business man almost lunges at to confirm it’s real it has to be real he didn’t kill Fritz. “Oh, the light, sorry! Hold on, I’ll light one.” 

It sounds like actual footsteps and someone moving things around. But without being able to even see his own hands right in front of him, David can’t help but think his talk with Scott was reality and this is the dream. A sick and twisted nightmare where he’ll be forced to hear the kid, but never see him. 

Then there’s sparks, and a flame appears to reveal a corner of the room, as well as a short figure with red hair. 

Offers an apologetic smile before it turns into concern. “Dav- Mr. Harrison, are you okay?” 

Fritz is alive. Fritz is alive. 

David watches for a moment to ensure the kid doesn’t disappear. Once he determines it won’t happen, he flops back into the nest of fabric. Remembers lying down to take a nap. And the promise Fritz wouldn’t leave the room without him. 

“Just...wasn’t expecting to wake up to an empty void,” he manages to grumble. 

“Sorry,” Fritz repeats. “I just didn’t want to waste the light. But I forgot you wouldn’t be used to it.” 

David doesn’t respond. Too drained to do anything more than watch Fritz’s silhouette walk around the room. Almost looking like he’s packing things into the bag from earlier. Realizes he doesn’t know how long he slept for, reaching out to his right to tap on his phone screen. 

7:50pm. The restaurant is closed, everyone on staff should be on their way home after getting everything cleaned, and Scott will be arriving soon. 

Fritz clears his throat. “Would you like to head back to the kitchen to meet your friend?” 

David’s heart drops to the pit of his stomach for more reasons than one. But he forces himself to stand up. Glances at his phone’s battery at 50%. “I’ll lead the way this time.” 

That earns him an incredulous look before he turns on the phone’s flashlight. Fritz jumping back in surprise manages to make his lips curl up. After the scare, the kid beams. “That’s so much better then carrying a candle.” 

“Of course it- you've carried a lit candle around?” David demands once he processes the full sentence, sending a glare after the kid as he puts out the flame. 

“It was the only way to see until I got really familiar with the path,” Fritz explains. “I didn’t have a phone, and no one realizes when a pack of birthday candles from a box of hundreds goes missing.” 

Some people would be impressed by the lengths that were gone to adapt. David’s only thinking about how it’s a miracle Fritz didn’t accidentally kill himself by his own stupidity. 

Instead of validating what he was told with a response, the business man makes his way to the ‘door’, Fritz taking the initiative to open it and then close it behind them. Then they slowly walk down the dark path that’s barely illuminated by the week flashlight, but it keeps the darkness from becoming suffocating. It does nothing to calm David’s thoughts, however. Not just his terror on facing Scott at this size, but about what he should do concerning Fritz. 

“Fritz, did you ever try to get my attention after you shrunk?” 

“...a few times.” 

David suddenly stops. Feels Fritz bump into him before the teenager quickly steps back. He then turns so the light shines on both of them. 

Stares down at someone who has every right to yell and scream at him. Every right to hate David for not being there. For leaving him for dead when his life was on the line in the business man’s own restaurant. Failing to make up for his mistake when there were multiple opportunities if he just paid attention. 

Fritz doesn’t glare or even look upset now that the truth is out. The kid just looks...patient. Not entirely resigned, but not hopeful either. Just, waiting. 

“You recognized me when you saved me,” David says. Earns a nod for confirmation. “So why did you?” 

Fritz becomes panicked. “Why wouldn’t I? They could’ve killed you, I couldn’t let that happen!” 

And that’s when David realizes that even if Fritz was angry that his calls for help were never answered, the kid is nothing but selfless. Was willing to save someone who by every definition didn’t deserve it. Give up his resources even with no promise to be repaid for it. 

...unless he’s been hoping David is his only ticket out. 

“I don’t think there will be a way to grow you to your normal height.” 

There. He ripped the band-aid off. It was going to happen at some point. It’s best if the kid knows now so he doesn’t waste anymore of his time. Yell that he never should’ve saved David if he wasn’t at the very least going to finally escape from this hell. 

Fritz jolts like he was electrocuted. Stares at David for a moment as his green eyes well up with tears. Curls in on himself as he looks at the floor. “O-Oh.” 

Silence. 

The kid takes a deep breath, wiping his eyes before looking up again. “Um, would y-you...do you still have a chance?” 

...what? 

“I...I guess I had a feeling,” Fritz continues, voice shaky. “I mean, n-no one was looking for me, and after a week it seemed like this was...permanent. I-I didn’t want it to happen to anyone else, though. As terrifying as it’s been, no one deserves this. You don’t think you’re stuck too, do you?” 

It’s said with such a genuine tone of concern. Not for himself. Purely for David. 

“I don’t know,” the business man says. 

Fritz straightens up. “Th-Then we shouldn’t miss your friend if it’s your only chance!” 

David is a bit too stunned to do anything but allow the kid to grab his arm and guide him down the tunnel. Immediately ducks his head once they exit the hole and make their way into the main part of the kitchen from under the oven. 

“David?” 

Both of them freeze at the booming voice calling for the shrunken man. All at once, the terror he felt a few hours ago comes rushing up, and it demands he stays as still and quite as possible. 

“David, are you in here?” 

Fritz slowly comes back to life at the sound of Scott growing worried. Tugs at David’s arm until the business man starts to follow again. “Y-You trust him, right?” 

It’s a miracle the whispered words weren’t drowned out by the sound of fabric moving. “I-I do.” 

Not much. But enough. 

“David,” Scott rumbles, impatience seeping into his tone and causing the two to flinch. “I’m not in the mood for games.” 

They make it to the toe kick. Blink against the blinding light until they can finally make out the towering figure standing by the kitchen door. 

At this angle, David can see Scott entirely. From his sandy hair, to the obscure band t-shirt, to the black converse shoes. Despite the distance, there’s no denying the man normally half a foot shorter than him is a giant who’s shoes could crush him. Hands with fingers longer than he is tall. Hazel eyes similar to his own as big as his head. 

Ones that are narrowed in their direction. 

“David?” 

Oh shit.

Scott is suddenly walking toward them. Fritz immediately flattens himself against the counters. David, on the other hand, wasn’t quick enough and ends up falling onto his back from the earthquakes. 

“Please don’t be a large insect...” 

Look, David is genuinely terrified. But he can’t stop the feeling of indignation surging through him, finding himself sitting up with a glare meant for Scott for comparing him to a bug. 

It vanishes when a hand slams down a few feet away, a face the size of a billboard leaning down, the massive being going completely still when their eyes meet. 

“Oh my God,” has David recoil when the simple action of Scott talking ruffles his hair and suit. “David?” 

“Sc-Scott,” the business man manages. Feels his entire body trembling. “It’s me, I-” 

He hadn’t seen it coming. Even though Scott set his hand down close by, David thought he would be able to get out of the way in time. He didn’t even see it lift off the ground. One moment it seems harmless, the next fingers are curling around him. 

“No, don’t-!” 

David frantically attempts to scramble away as fear claws at his throat. But he's too slow, much too slow. A thumb the size of his torso settles on his chest at the same time another digit folds over his legs. He shoves with all his might to try and get the finger pinning him down away from him, gasping in pain when it only presses harder, forcing the air out of his lungs. 

Then vertigo makes his stomach flip. Meaning he’s being lifted up. Away from the ground, from safety, closer to the giant that’s staring at him like he’s the most interesting thing in the world. 

Don’t kill me, please don’t kill me.

“I can’t believe it,” Scott breathes. “He actually shrunk you.” 

David gasps as the grip gets tighter, shoving at the thumb and kicking his legs in the hope he can escape. “Scott...tight!” 

“S-Sir, you’re hurting him!” 

Everything freezes. 

“Wha-?” the giant mutters intelligently, and all David can see is Scott’s eyes looking at something down on the ground. Lets out a strangled yell when he’s squeezed suddenly. Pain erupting at the feeling like he was punched in the stomach and chest. 

“Open your hand!” 

David chokes on air as the thumb is finally lifted, curls onto his side as he just concentrates on breathing he can finally breathe. 

He sends a glare up at the giant watching him with a troubled look as soon as he can think again. “What, the fuck, Scott?” 

“I’m sorry,” the sandy haired man apologizes. As if it makes everything better. “I hadn’t realized. Are you hurt?” 

He chose the wrong person to trust. “Put me down!” 

Scott seems apprehensive. But then the hand is lowering, and David suddenly remembers Fritz once the kid comes into his line of sight. Had completely forgotten about everything that happened before a hand attempted to squeeze him to death. 

Bad news, his limbs are too shaky to get him away from the giant who’s proven himself to be deadly. Worse news, Fritz comes running over from the safety of the cabinets despite the fact Scott nearly killed David within the first five minutes. 

“Are you ok-k-kay?” the kid whispers, sending a fearful look up at Scott every other second. Offers a hand that’s immediately taken to help sit David up. Gently pats at his chest before recoiling at a painful groan. “Did anything break?” 

“Did anything break?” Scott repeats, at the very least sounding remorseful. 

“No, nothing broke. But I couldn’t, breathe for a good minute,” David snaps with a wheeze. “Now I owe Fritz for saving my life twice.” 

David was not expecting the weirdest part of his day to watch pupils dilate, unable to help watching in fascination as the brown ring seemingly retracts to reveal an almost gold color. 

Then cold fear races down his back at the realization Scott is looking at Fritz. “Twice?” 

The giant better not touch the kid. “It’s been a long day.” 

“I’ve got time to hear about it,” Scott says, doing a great impression of a thunder storm. Looks between them for a moment. Makes David curse and Fritz jump away when fingers curl in closer. “God, you make me feel like a monster.” 

“You almost crushed me!” 

“Your size,” the giant clarifies with a scowl. And despite the revelation of just how big the man is to them, Scott fails to connect the dots such a seemingly harmless expression only meant to show his frustration makes David shake from the thought there will be retaliation he’ll have no way to defend himself against. “But you’re right, I got grabby when I shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry. Let’s, start from the beginning.” 

“Fritz help me get down.” 

The kid slowly approaches Scott’s hand again. Grabs David’s arm even as he trembles to help the business man down the surprisingly high platform a palm makes. Nearly collapses onto Fritz when his legs give out because he’s still not at 100%. He’s on the fence whether to feel grateful or fearful of the finger offering assistance to get him standing upright. 

But Scott completely withdrawals his hand once David’s knees aren’t threatening to buckle. And with it, warmth the business man hadn’t realized was keeping the chill of the room at bay. 

David takes a deep breath. Well, as much as he can without it becoming painful. Looks up at Scott towering over them even while kneeling. “I shrunk the moment I walked into the kitchen, and apparently I wasn’t the first one. The same thing happened to Fritz a few months ago, and he managed to keep me from getting squashed because the staff mistook me for a roach.” 

Scott’s jaw drops. “Months?” 

Not what David thought the sandy haired man would latch onto. Then again, it’s not hard to see the kid is just a teenager. He thought the revelation of William shrinking any and all employees would be the most concerning part. But, this is only new to the business man. Scott’s been with the company long enough to be far too familiar with these kinds of scenarios. That anyone’s up for grabs with experiments, not the shrinking. 

David nods, because he has no reason to not believe the timeline. “Does that mean anything to you?” 

Scott hesitates. Looks at the kid cowering in his shadow. “It sounds like he was the first field test if I’m being honest. Did anyone come looking for you?” 

Fritz jumps when David elbows him, giving a small ‘oh!’ realizing the question was directed at him. “Um-m-m, no one called my name. Or, looked under the cabinets. I-I just, I remember a shadow when I first left the kitchen.” 

That sounds like Vincent. And Scott wincing just proves it. “So he was the guinea pig.” 

“He was,” Scott confirms. “I don't understand why Afton would make such a risky move. His parents would’ve-” 

David doesn't catch it until the giant stops talking. But Fritz’s head is...shaking. “Not my parents...” 

And that’s why David never received a phone call about someone missing while working a shift at his restaurant. Why Fritz vanished and no one really noticed. The kid was so unimportant no one would care if he was dead. 

David clears his throat. “Do you think William can grow Fritz back to his normal height?” 

“I-I’m okay Mr. Harrison,” is said at the same time Scott sighs. He pretends he didn’t hear it. 

“Even if he’d be willing to, I don’t think he can. If it took months to shrink you after shrinking him, it meant results he got in his lab weren’t the same as when Fritz shrunk. Meaning he had to make a few adjustments.” 

Meaning the kid is most likely permanently this size. 

Fritz doesn’t make a single sound. Scott’s careful not to betray any emotion. 

“Take us both to William,” David commands. 

“Mr-” 

“You are my responsibility,” the business man growls down at the kid. “Don’t be a dumbass. We’ll see if he can get you back to your proper height no matter how short it is. If he can’t, we’ll go from there. But you won’t be leaving my side to get crushed like a bug or end up as somethings dinner, understood?” 

Fritz stares up at him in shock. Like he was fully expecting to get left behind despite everything he’s done. And, if they’re being honest, that had been a genuine possibility. But David owes the kid his life. Besides, if he ever suggested not bringing Fritz along to fend for himself however long they’d be gone, Scott would kill him. 

That’s the only reason. 

A small but hopeful smile tugs on Fritz’s mouth. “Understood.” 

“Wonderful. Scott, set your hand down and we’ll walk on,” David directs. “Don’t grab us.” 

“I learned my lesson,” Scott murmurs as he sets a hand down palm up in front of them. 

He absolutely hates the idea of willingly putting his life in the hands of the giant. It’s the only way to get to William and demand their rightful size back, though. So with clenched teeth and fists, David steps up onto a middle finger almost as thick as he is. 

One that twitches and sends him tumbling. 

David scrambles to try and sit up, arms raising to protect himself from the bone crushing curling fingers. “Scott please don’t!” 

The hand opens again. “That was reflex, I apologize. I wasn’t trying to pin you, I swear.” 

David kicks at the nearest digit, sending a fierce glare up at Scott. “I’m starting to think even Fritz would be a better giant than you.” 

“I don’t have a guide on what to do when I find someone who was shrunk,” the sandy haired man defends. “This is new for both of us. And I don’t think you realize how ticklish you can be.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me. You feel like a large bug crawling into my hand,” Scott smirks. Before David can protest, the giant looks away, face softening. “He’s okay, Fritz. Just a little rumpled.” 

“Way to scare the kid,” the business man grumbles as he sits up. Sees Fritz shaking like a leaf with skin so pale his freckles look like they’ll jump right off of him. “It’s safe, Fritz, Scott’s just a dumbass.” 

A small step forward as the strap to the bag is held in a white-knuckle grip. A careful step up onto Scott’s first finger. A fearful glance at the giant before another tentative step. There’s a shuddering breath as Fritz continues onto the hand until he makes it to Scott’s palm and immediately sits down. Curls up in a tight ball as he looks around in terror, expecting the fingers to snap shut around them at any moment. 

David slaps at the giant’s thumb. “Why didn’t you trip him?” 

“I was expecting it that time,” Scott grouses. “Unlike some people, I learn from my mistakes.” 

He doesn’t try and refute the claim. Not when he latches onto the fact that Scott now holds both of them. To do whatever he wants with. Put them in a pocket to take home instead of William. Close his hand until he crushes them mercilessly. Trips while walking and let them fall a hundred feet to the unforgiving ground. 

“Ready?” shakes him to his very core. 

...Scott will keep them safe. 

David nods once. Gasps when the hand lifts up way too quickly, gravity flattening him against the palm. Yelps and the same time Fritz shrieks when the ride up suddenly stops, leaving both of them lifting into the air before falling back down. 

This was the worst idea he’s ever had why did they ever trust a giant. 

“Are you two okay?” Scott asks, sounding confused as to why he earned such terrified reactions. 

“You...have no idea how physics works, do you?” David breathes, trying to get his heart to calm back down from the scare. 

Scott stares before his eyes widen, making a soft ‘ah’. “Was I too fast?” 

"Both starting and stopping.” He looks over at Fritz, relieved the kid at least doesn’t seem traumatized. 

“I’ll go slower,” Scott reassures. This time, the giant doesn’t wait for confirmation they’re ready, instead starts to stand up without warning. 

It feels like David’s stomach got left far behind, and he doesn’t dare try to look over the edge of the hand. But to Scott’s credit, he’s much slower. Careful to not abruptly stop so it feels like they’ll go flying. When they don’t scream again, the giant takes it as a que to continue on his journey. Turns slowly, but wind still tussles their clothes and hair. Footsteps jostle them so harshly it feels like their teeth might crack. 

“Feeling okay?” Scott asks. 

“Fine,” David spits out, not wanting to be reminded he’s being held tens of feet above the ground, completely vulnerable to someone he barely trusts on a good day. Catches sight of Fritz looking ten times worse than him, eyes shut tight and holding his knees as close as possible like his life depends on it. “Fritz?” 

“H-H-Heights,” is all the kid can say. 

That must be the worst phobia to have while shrunk. Scott’s sympathetic look says the giant agrees. “If there’s anything I can do to make it better-” 

Scott doesn’t get to finish his sentence. Because the second he steps through the kitchen doorway, David’s falling. Lands before he can try to scream. Braces himself for nothing but blinding hot pain. 

Nothing happens. When he opens his eyes, he sees Scott sitting on the ground, hand on his head as he groans from pain. And the sandy haired man is his size. 

What the fuck just happened? 

David pats down his chest. Winces at the pain from it still tender from Scott squeezing him, but other than that, he’s perfectly fine. No broken bones. No ruptured organs. He’s unhurt, and most importantly, he’s six feet tall again. 

...where’s Fritz? 

“Fritz?” David calls. Looks to his right and left. Next to Scott. But the hallways void of the teenager. Meaning he didn’t grow back to his normal height. “Fritz?” 

“David?” Scott blinks. Gasps when it hits him David grew. “How-? 

“Where’s Fritz?” the business man demands. Looks at hands completely empty of miniscule figures. Feels his heart clench at the thought the kid fell. “Scott where’s Fritz?” 

The sandy haired man gapes at him. Once it processes, once he realizes what it means to not know where the kid is, his eyes dart across the floor. “I don’t know. I didn’t even see what happened, I was just knocked into the wall.” 

“Fritz,” David all but pleads. Not daring to move. Afraid he won’t see the kid if he does. Afraid what he might find. “Don’t be an idiot, tell us where you are, kid.” 

“M-M-M-” 

His eyes snap over to the kitchen door at the softest sound he’ll ever encounter. Stares unblinkingly at the tiny figure trying its hardest to become part of the wall. Breathes a sigh of relief when it doesn’t disappear and the familiar features of red hair and a bag over the shoulder confirms it’s Fritz. The kid’s alive, the kid’s alive. 

“You dumbass,” David berates as he turns toward Fritz, careful to go as slow as possible to not spook him, especially with how the poor kid looks like he’s going to bolt at any moment. Trembling so badly it’s impossible to miss despite how small he is. 

Was David really that size? So miniscule that a strong breeze could knock him over? Not even as tall as one of the checkered tiles on the floor? It makes him want to do nothing more than pick Fritz up so he’s safe from everything that could possibly hurt him. David is all too familiar with how dangerous it is to be alone on the ground. 

“Took you long enough.” 

The voice makes David’s skin crawl. After checking to make sure Fritz won't move, he looks down the hallway to see a living shadow standing a few feet away. 

“What the hell do you want?” the business man growls, not happy Vincent decided to show up. What a fantastic end to the worst day of his life. 

“I was just going to make sure you didn’t lock yourself in the kitchen all night,” the purple man shrugs. “I assumed you didn’t want to stay three inches tall for a full 24 hours.” 

That sick son of a bitch. “You mean to tell me that if I had gone right back through that goddamn door, I wouldn’t immediately grown again?” 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” 

David’s head snaps over to give Scott a seething glare, silently demanding he take responsibility over his mutated grape. The sandy haired man sighs, fixing Vincent with an unimpressed look. “Was Afton’s intention to put David’s life in danger?” 

“Not at all. But accidents happen, and David deciding to go into the kitchen in the middle of a rush instead of during his rounds after the restaurant's been locked up was just unfortunate timing.” 

“Unfortunate?” David seethes. “I was nearly killed! Several times! Why didn’t you come to save me!” 

“I wasn’t around to help,” Vincent smiles and fuck him. “Besides, it was a happy accident. We’ve been trying to get your companion to come out of hiding for a while now, so I’ll just be taking him and be on my way.” 

Companion? Who-? 

David’s hand hovers protectively over Fritz. “And what exactly will you do with him?” 

“A few tests, a physical, a questionnaire,” Vincent lists. “After that, he no longer has any use.” 

That means Fritz is disposable. After surviving for so long, and is only reward is to be killed once William gets all of the information he wants. 

“You won’t return him to his proper size?” David questions. 

“Can’t,” Vincent says. “Though, if it was possible, he’s a liability, and we can’t have that. You know that, David.” 

Maybe he does. Because that was why he was hesitant about bringing Fritz to William. The cruel man can’t let experiments wonder around. Not with the possibility it can be traced back to Fazbear’s. 

And maybe he doesn’t really give a shit what William wants. “Then he won’t be leaving with you.” 

“It’s not a choice, David.” 

“He’s not hurting anyone, Vince,” Scott pipes up, and the sandy haired man might not be as heartless as originally thought. “He’ll stay within the company, David and I will make sure no one gets their hands on him.” 

“It’s a bit too risky for William, Scotty. What he says goes.” 

“He’s my employee,” David counters. Barely holds back a flinch as amber eyes lock on him with a death stare. The kind that says he’s pushing it. “He got shrunk in my restaurant under my payroll. That means I have first say. And I say he’ll stay here, completely out of the public eye. No one will know he exists.” 

Vincent stares at him for a long moment. David is expecting a knife to slice his throat open at any second. 

The purple man hums. “I will inform William. I may return with orders that it’s your life, or his.” 

They can’t give a response, not when Vincent disappears into the shadows. He fucking hates that thing. 

“Afton’s going to make you pay for that,” Scott huffs. 

“I already can’t go into my own damn kitchen without shrinking,” David growls. “I think I’ve paid plenty.” 

He then ignores Scott completely, turns to Fritz cowering under his hand. Glad the kid didn’t make a break for it, because who knows if that would’ve triggered the mutated grape into hunting him down. 

“Back to you being a dumbass. If I call your name, you better answer, or else I think you’re dead. Are we clear?” 

Fritz seems to look down in shame, but he nods his head in agreement. “Yes, s-sir.” 

David sets his hand in front of the kid. Curls his fingers in twice as a command for Fritz to climb on. “We’re getting you some proper food, and then we’ll talk about arrangements.” 

There’s hesitation. “You...y-you’re letting me stay?” 

“And making sure you’re properly taken care of,” David says. “It won’t be perfect, but you won’t have to risk your neck just to survive.” 

It’s the least he can do. Fritz has more than earned it. And the kid doesn’t deserve to die by William’s hand after surviving against all the odds. 

Miniscule shoes walk across his fingers, David smirking at the fact Fritz isn’t even as tall as his thumb. And unlike Scott, there’s no twitching to send the kid tumbling. Slowly lifts his hand up until they’re eye level without any turbulence. 

If he didn’t know Fritz was there, it’d be hard to feel the miniscule weight of an entire person in his hand. But the kid is here. Terrified, refusing to look anywhere except the palm he’s sitting in, breathing short and quick, 

Instead of an overwhelming sense of power, all David feels is the need to protect. 

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t lift a finger to nudge at the kid, absolutely fascinated by the miniscule movements of surprise. He could definitely get used to this. 

With the confirmation Fritz is alright, David tucks his hand against his chest before carefully standing up. Looks over at Scott standing up as well and dusting himself off. “Scott, grab a pizza and meet us in the main area.” 

“You can’t grab one?” Scott questions. 

“Not unless you want me shrinking again,” the business man responds as he slowly walks down the hallway. 

He hears a soft ‘I might’, followed by the sound of his request being heeded. Leaving him to glance down to make sure he isn’t jostling Fritz too much. 

David didn’t expect the kid to be looking back at him. “I’m not as bad as Scott, am I?” 

Fritz jolts. “N-No! I mean, he wasn’t bad. Just not...cautious?” 

“He was the worst giant we could’ve asked for,” David declares. 

That earns him a smile. “I wanted to say thank you.” 

This isn't something that earns him a ‘thank you’. This is making up for not being there when Fritz needed him. But he will be working hard for it. 

“I should be thanking you.” 

[gizmocrate-werecrow]

What to do when you are a leafling: the one on the edge of sanity

(Can’t think of anything today)

Sagittarius, Libra and Virgo…another has fallen to the siren song of my SOS. An individual thought. They had an old cream coloured suit that was splotched with dirt and dark red stains. An indicator for life support cracked. They had light red leaves and their nose was poking through their leaves. They sighed, another one had fallen. 

The crashed had green hair and glasses, according to the id, he was called Santi. The leaf man watched as three ice pikmin carried the stranded soul to the onion.

He knew what would happen, next the crashed would have everything of who they once were gone. Stuck in a limbo of management and dandori. Changing the cave into their own playground to mindlessly waste time trying to save time. No cares, no hopes or dreams…was that fate worse than death?

The onion spat out the former man, his leaves were light blue tipped with ice. The leaf man hopped onto his dog and left the cave.

Riding on the companion that was an aid to this endless mission, the leaf man could only think about what could’ve been.

Time long ago was a time when he could grasp the chance at leaving, time long wasted on messing around at each and every moment. Time that he could only wish to go back and redo.

Maybe if he didn’t spend that time off before the mission his suit would have 30 days, maybe if he didn’t meet Moss he would go home, maybe if he didn’t write the logs he would’ve planned more effectively…maybe if he mastered Dandori…dandori…it all came back to that. That word, that concept gnawed at his will to keep on with the saving, clouding the memories that seemed to slip away with every day that passed on this death planet.

The leafman passes from the giant pink flowered trees of Blossoming Arcadia and into the empty desolation of Serene Shores. The tide was now down. 

Seeing this, the leafman held a hand to his head, struggling to recall something.

He was walking down with his wife, they were both young back then. Her name was…oh it seems he had forgotten that today…except for that he could see it. He held a box behind his back just as the twin suns touched the sea, giving the first hint of stars in the sky.

Words left his mouth and he opened the box, in it was a small note saying “would you marry me?”

Then she kissed him, a wild and passionate kiss of love.

At least he could still remember his wife’s face. The loss of her name was worrying but at least he still remembered, at least he still knew who he once was.

“I am Captain Olimar…” was what he said to himself. 

Moss nudged him a little, tilting her head with a worried expression.

“Moss, have I ever told you about the twin suns of Hocotate? Imagine the sun but split it into two.. shrink it to half its size... When both touched the horizon at sea, the sky would turn the most beautiful colors you would ever see in your life… purples and reds with blues and pinks bringing forth a cloak of darkness littered with stars…I wish I could go home..”

Moss whined and brought Olimar onto her back.

“Until then…I have you…Moss.” He said while feeling tears develop on his face. He touched them before looking up at the sky. The sky was growing dark but that was okay as long as he went home.

Or at least the thing that was close enough to home. (Should I do one more chapter with olimin? Also isn’t it surprising that despite his prominence, not much is explored? Should I go all out and make olimin slowly become evil or stick with the game?)

(edit: when I mean evil, I mean tragic corruption of a hero who still has a chance at redemption evil not character assassination)

[choco-cherry-chunk]

Will you write link stuff for your characters? Maybe that would help with asks

I assume you mean kink stuff? If so, absolutely! I’ve posted my own “tier list” thing about what I’m into in relation to this kind of kink and I’ll happily hit whatever within that list for any of my OCs and even create characters with other users if desired.

And if you’re interested too, I’ll try to write some here for one of them? You can look them up by name on my blog if interested.

Consider Cricket being kind of distracted while perfecting their next magic performance. Theyre bumbling some of their tricks; pulling crystals out of their hat when they meant to get doves, making more things appear when one thing is meant to disappear, their magic rings shrinking around their wrists instead of growing into hula hoops. They’re getting frustrated by the time Maurice offers to join in and help. He’s used to Cricket taking the lead with these things, but he doesn’t mind being a little bossy. He tells his partner that maybe the next trick should be the Aztec Lady or the Radium Girl, some kind of escapism trick. He figures that if it works, Cricket will feel more confident and they’ll be able to continue with the rest of the show’s plan. Cricket elects for one of the trick boxes, make Maurice disappear from the enormous box and reappear in the rafters of their stage, dangling on bars and strings.

Maurice gets into the box, waving tantalizingly before Cricket clicks the lid shut. Maurice can hear Cricket go through the usual spiel regarding the trick and he prepares for them to say the magic words that would indicate his movement to slip out of the box. Except when he hears them, he can’t get the back of the box open. He keeps trying to quietly tap at it with his foot, open the latch, and then slip through the floor. And while he’s fussing with it, he becomes vaguely aware of a different, familiar sensation.

A tingling in his middle. He’d described it at soda carbonation, just poured into a glass. Fizzling and popping somewhere deep inside, growing with time. The sensation, more intense, moving throughout his torso. Maurice drops a hand to his side and immediately can feel his flesh expanding under the rainbow fabric of his usual attire. Merde, Fancy Feet must have mixed up the trick again. He kept kicking at the trick door, trying to get it open as subtly as possible. He knew the trick Cricket was actually enacting well. His stomach swelled out further, becoming a proper belly in seconds. The usually billowed fabric of his top and pants didn’t hide the change for long, quick to hold onto his bloat. Soon, he could feel his hips widen, either side eventually brushing against either side of the box.

Cursing under his breath, Maurice starts to call out to Cricket for help, only to remember the next step in their act. Their little song-and-dance their so with the audience, their attempt to improv with those watching. Even with those big ass ears, there was no way they were paying attention. By the time he stopped shouting, Maurice looked down to see his tummy had swollen out to at least a full-term pregnancy. He could feel the subtlest of movements beneath his skin, familiar flutters that only drew his attention long enough for him to miss the moment his top and trousers separated. His watermelon-sized belly peeled out between the bright rainbow stripes, a bright white cloud of amidst the colors. It was just the slightly tinge of pink as he swelled, warm in the enclosed space.

Maurice continued his efforts to click open the back of the box with his heel, but it seemed to do little and even grew harder as the seconds ticked by. His back side pressed but against the handle for the box’s exit route, his ass slowly growing along with him. He tried to lean against the door, figuring the added weight would at least help to push it open, but the action just served to rub the sides of his corpulent growth against the walls. He watched as his stomach continued to grow, his innie popping into a perfectly poked out navel just before it swelled up enough to poke into the front of the box. The marionette gasped, not entirely out of concern; the sensation of his bloated body squashing against yet another wall sent shivers through him. He dropped his arms from the walls and that they had nowhere to go except to sit awkwardly on the crest of his stomach. He pulled at his top to give his middle more room to breathe. The box around him creaked, the sound barely audible over the gurgling of his belly, it’s size now close to that of being overdue with triplets. He rubbed his gloved hands over the paper white skin, the soft fabric tickling the sensitive bump. He found himself moaning, his fingers brushing over places where movements bubbled up, bumping and brushing more significantly the more the space of his stomach was encroached on. Maurice wasn’t sure what would give in first - his expanding tum or the box.

His arms looking to be rising, his stomach squished against the walls and swelling into what spaces it could. His back side and hips pushed up into what remained. Just as he felt the bottom of his abdomen brush the floor of the box, the door of the box popped open. Maurice gasped, his belly practically bursting through the open space, briefly jiggling from the force of the drop. Just over the top of his ballooned gut he could see Cricket’s wide eyes and perked up ears. A brief effort was made to get out of the box, but there was no give. The walls of the box pressed into his bloated side, jostling his bulge enough to send the babies within into a new fit of movement.

“I think that was the wrong spell, Fancy Feet.”

[shadowsshowdown]

Deus Ex: Human Revolution Shadow’s Showdown 62

The prototype special unit - RK800.

Detroit.

The world had stopped, shrinking to the size of the moment, frozen with terror on Connor's face and calmness in Laura's green eyes. The woman was resigned to the fact that in a moment she would cease to exist. She will leave on her own terms. If there is something on the other side, maybe she will meet Joe and Adam there, and maybe she will see her parents. There will be no pain, no sadness, and no Kratos. Nothingness opened its arms to close her in its embrace after a while. It was inviting, offering everything she wanted. The woman leaned slightly toward the precipice and just then heard a familiar voice.

"Laura, please don't do anything stupid. We'll get through this together," the man tried to stop her.

She managed to regain her balance and take a step in the direction from which the voice was coming. She couldn't explain why she gave up instead of jumping.

"Anything stupid?! Two people close to me and dozens or hundreds I didn't know died because of me," she replied.

The wind ruffled her hair, strands of which lined her cheeks. Tears solidified, burning her skin, and the woman trembled with cold and grief. Down below, sirens could be heard howling like a pack of wolves, lights flashing amidst the falling snow. Connor was increasingly afraid that if the police showed up here right away, Laura would surely jump. He had to do something, and fast.

"Don't you want to avenge Adam and Joe? Are you going to run away again? Are you just going to give up like that?" he tried appealing to her ambition and resolve.

"They don’t care now and so, am I. I'm tired. go home Connor I won't change my mind anyway," she replied. "You think you're the only one who suffers?!" Connor changed his tone of voice to a rougher and firmer one. "The world doesn't spin around you, you know." "Because of me, Kratos attacked the company!"

Connor laughed. "And you believe that?! Do you think he would throw himself to all that hell only for you to fall into his hands? You're ridiculous."

"Then why did all the show happen?" "He wanted to scare you, that's all. Since you can't be his at least he will stalk you..." "As long as I don't jump..." she finished the sentence for him. "Come to me, only slowly. We'll go home, you're very weak and freezing."

The woman took another step forward but immediately took a step back.

"No, Connor. For me, there is no more hope. There is no forgiveness. Let me go. Please." "No!" yelled the man.

She had never heard him be so resolute, never seen him so desperate with his fists clenching nervously again and again and his muscles ready to react.

"I killed a man! I put the barrel of the gun to his forehead and fired! I saw his head explode, and blood coat my body. Now, what do you say?!"

Connor looked at his shoes dirty from the mud and the puddle he was standing in. He closed his eyes. He so badly didn't want her to play this exact card because now he has to show his. Her life is more important than secrets. He has to protect her at all costs.

"You didn't kill him," he replied shortly.

Laura furrowed her eyebrows and looked at him more closely, not understanding what he meant.

"I was in Berlin at the time. I was standing across the street. Lemon-Lime was on fire, the flames were raging and even all the firefighting units in the area couldn't stop it. Sparks were shooting into the air, and you were standing with Damien. A man was kneeling in front of you, begging for mercy. You then said, "Damien, come on, we've already scared him off." Immediately after that..." "I pulled the trigger," she finished for him.

She was completely calm, not at all thinking about who Connor really is or how he knows the events of that evening. She should flood him with questions and doubts. Torpedo him so hard to leave him no way to avoid answers. Meanwhile, she blindly trusted him and took a step toward the man again. She wanted to take another but at the same moment, the police appeared on the roof. It seemed strange to Connor that for such an action they arrived in a group as if they were about to catch some dangerous criminal. They always send a negotiator and a psychologist. They were so loud that they scared Laura, who again increased the distance between her and Connor. She felt the solid ground disappear under her feet. She began falling into a bottomless, dark abyss disturbed by the flashes of police car lights and the pale light of neon signs. Connor turned his head away from the edge of the roof only for a moment, and when he looked again Laura was gone. All he heard was her scream. His reaction was immediate. He sprinted ahead. It was a perfectly coordinated movement, trained by years of practice, almost robotic. There was nothing random about it. Behind his back, he could hear the shouts of police officers dressed in winter polyamide jackets. Confused, they didn't know whether to shoot or wait to see what would happen. RK800 bounced off the concrete edge stretching out in a leap like a cat. He knew he would reveal his next cards too soon, but that wasn't the most important thing now. He arranged his arms along his torso to reduce air resistance and plunged further and further into the abyss. He fell like a meteorite, cutting like a katana blade through the air wheezing in his ears with an unbearable cacophony.

The hitherto narrow line of the street became wider and wider, and more and more details appeared on it. He could see Laura's petite silhouette, inertly falling into the darkness. Connor clenched his teeth, his heart galloping unnaturally fast in his chest. His mind was filled with fear that he would not make it, that he was too slow. The rush of air grew stronger when he decided to use his energy reserves. With this, he managed to catch up with Laura. He stretched out his arms catching her and wrapping her in the strong embrace of his arms. He was very lucky, but most of it was due to his skill. In flight, he turned his back toward the ground to soften his eventual fall if he ran out of energy. "Shield," he issued a command in his mind. "Glide," immediately followed by another. They visibly slowed down, flying now over the heads of onlookers. Some of them were horrified, others were in disbelief. Some drunk looked at the bottle held in his hand. A mother held in her arms an overjoyed child who had just seen a superhero. Connor wanted at all costs to be far enough away from the gathering. He hoped the police wouldn't be looking for them. They landed in one of the side alleys on an old mattress lying among a pile of garbage bags. The man tried to revive the unconscious woman with a few pats on the cheeks but in vain.

"Fuck," he growled, realizing that her blood was everywhere.

RK800 reached into his pants pocket. Fortunately, the phone was working so he sent a message from it.

"Code 7481. Status RED."

Location - Unknown. Time - Unknown.

"Fuck!" thundered the voice. "How could you screw up this task?! You were supposed to protect her, and she’s dying again!" "I couldn't predict..." replied Connor. "You're supposed to be one step ahead! I should gut you for that!" "It won't happen again," said Connor. "In addition, I have to clean up the whole mess after you. The local police are turning Detroit upside down. They ask many questions." "I will bear all the consequences."

The interlocutor wanted to respond but was interrupted before he could open his mouth.

"Everything is ready, we can begin," announced another voice through the loudspeaker.

The two walked down a narrow corridor, bathed in semi-darkness, to a small room towering over the operating room.

"It's good the signal arrived in time. There's a big chance she'll survive," informed the stranger, already somewhat more calmly. "Really, I'm not screwing up anymore." "I know. I'm sorry."

Connor had probably already anticipated every scenario, but not this one. In moments when someone's life was at stake, especially Laura's, the boss was unpredictable. He had also heard many opinions that he could be cruel, but it was hard to believe that when looking at the person standing next to him.

"They had to warm her up first, gradually, so she wouldn't go into shock. Now they're stitching her up again, but it's unclear what will happen next." "Maybe we should let her go?" asked Connor. "Out of the question!" the tone of voice changed again to stern and ruthless. "She has to live."

She was blinded by the white light seeping in under her eyelids. The image swam in her eyes, blurred and returned regaining its shape. Square panels on the ceiling, beige in places as if scratched with white. A wall with a panel hanging on it illuminating X-rays. Several cabinets, and a movable table at the foot of the bed. Soft sheets smelling of disinfectant, a piece of plastic on a finger, tubes going into the nose to allow breathing, a peripheral IV catheter in the right hand with a drip bag on a nearby hanger. This was not Connor's home but a hospital room. How did she get here? The woman turned her head to the right. On the nightstand stood a pitcher of water and a glass, and right next to it a vase with a white and pink magnolia flower. Someone came in and shone a flashlight into her eyes as if the harsh light coming from the ceiling was not enough. He checked the drip bag, then the card hanging on the bed rail, and left. Shortly after another person came in with a quite familiar scent of bergamot, ginger and sage. Laura blinked her eyes wanting the image to come into focus. The grey jacket, it had to be Connor's.

"You're finally awake. I was starting to panic," he said, carefully sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Where am I?" she asked, trying to raise herself to a sitting position. "Lie still. You're in the hospital." "But they will ask questions, after all, the police..." "Everything is fine. When you were unconscious, I took care of all the matters and gave an explanation. As soon as you're released, we'll get back to my place." "How did you accomplish this? After all, I fell off the roof." "You will get answers but after returning. Agreed?" "Agreed," she replied reluctantly.

The next day Connor performed another miracle because Laura was allowed to go home. She was still very weak so other than getting up from bed and getting dressed she doesn't remember anything else. On the one hand, she was not at all worried about this, but on the other hand, it was very strange. The feeling that Connor was hiding more from her than the average person was strong and vivid. Maybe she really shouldn't trust him? When they returned home, he did not bring up the subject of her suicide attempt at all, which awakened even more questions in her mind. Instead, he brought a bowl of hot broth and made sure she ate it.

"Will you finally explain to me what happened on the roof?" her words sounded more like a command than a question or a request.

The man sighed, intertwining the fingers of both hands together, and looked down at his feet. He noticed one of the grey socks was a tad less grey than the other.

"Let's start with the fact that I'm neither a programmer nor a hacker."

Laura furrowed her brow but decided not to interrupt him. Nervous knuckles cracking was apparently a sign that what he wanted to tell her was something difficult for him.

"I am an aug who was taken to work for the police as a prototype special unit. I don't know the details of this project except that I joined voluntarily. Before I left, I had investigated the Damien case."

Berlin 2017.

"Evie hurry up! We have a lot of work to do," Toby shouted from behind the bar. "I'm coming! The customers were terribly inquisitive," the girl excused herself. "Take it to eight. Just come right back with no delay."

Evie looked toward the indicated table. Seated at it was a man with short-cropped dark chocolate-coloured hair with a strand falling unruly on his forehead, which he kept correcting, and it still returned to its original place. He was wearing a black turtleneck sweater and was busy reading the newspaper. The girl approached the table setting a cup of black coffee and a plate with a piece of cherry pie on it.

"I'm sorry you had to wait. The terrible crowd today," she said smiling kindly. "That's okay," the man replied, closing the newspaper and folding it perfectly evenly in half. "For your delicious coffee and pie, it's worth the wait."

His brown gaze fixed on Evie's face. The man reciprocated the smile then raised his cup and inhaled the aroma of the coffee before taking a sip.

"Excellent," he murmured contentedly, setting the cup down on the saucer. He rolled up the sleeves of his sweater to elbow height and wanted to reach for the newspaper, but stopped in mid-motion. "If you would like anything else, I am at your disposal," he said. "Thank you for now, but it's possible I'll have two pieces of pie today," he announced, smiling broadly.

Evie returned to the bar and immediately got another order, so she had no time to think about the strange customer. He, in turn, reminded about himself a quarter of an hour later when he approached the bar. The girl was replacing Toby, who had gone to restock.

"I'll have another piece of cherry pie and green tea, please," he said in a consistently pleasant tone. "Of course, I'm already serving. You could have waited at the table and called me." "A walk hasn't hurt anyone yet," he replied. "Besides, I'm Dale, Dale Cooper," he added extending his hand toward her. “I’m Evie. Just Evie.”

The girl shook it, although his friendly behaviour seemed rather strange to her. Especially after Joe had warned her at least a few times to be careful when dealing with strangers. The man took his order and returned to his table, but left a distinct mark in the girl's mind.

Half an hour later, a monstrous bang of an explosion shook the entire club. The fire spread in the blink of an eye consuming room after room. Smaller explosions shot off fireworks of sparks from time to time. A crowd of terrified guests fell out into the street, and their screams could be heard in the distance. Lamps and square plates fell from the ceiling, raising clouds of dust into the air. Cables sizzling with electricity hung like snakes, and water gushed from broken pipes. Shattered glass and discarded purses, jackets or hats lay on the floor. Soon a thickening cloud of smoke made it hard to see anything. Evie, paralysed with fear, stood in the middle of the main hall, bumped by those fleeing. She didn't know where Joe, Toby or Alex was; she searched for them with her eyes but in vain. Smoke entered her lungs more and more intensely, irritating her eyes and leading to tears. Her gaze moved from point to point more and more nervously. She moved abruptly as if pushed by a premonition, toward the emergency stairs when she suddenly felt a sudden jerk and a robotic hand clenching tightly on her forearm. The first person she thought of was Joe, but her joy was quickly extinguished when she turned her head.

"Get out of here or you'll burn alive," Damien said in a firm tone.

The smoke didn't impress him in the least. His implants filtered the air he breathed, and the model of synthetic eyes he had could not produce tears.

"I have to find Joe!" shrieked the girl, pulling out. "We're leaving."

The grip was so firm that it caused her pain. The man pulled Evie along and soon they were outside. Only now did she hear the unbearable howling of the sirens of the fire department units, ambulances and police. Suddenly the strangest of thoughts nestled in her mind; Did Dale manage to escape?

All  chapters can be found: [AO3], [dA], [Wattpad] and [Tumblr]

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job, Post 379: The Tale of Queen Angie, p8

Alright, so you need me to explain? Okay, though you should have figured it all out anyway by this point, if you’ve been reading this crap, this is what I know. I’ll tell you if you need. I know not all of you weirdos pay attention.

Me? I pay attention, for sure. I listen, I ask around, I snoop. I’m able to see some of his emails. I know Melissa’s some sort of freak, that she gets studied by scientists at the drug company. I mean, I kinda knew it even back in high school. Things are way too easy for her. She changes, like physically, to get what she wants. Not just “go to the gym and get hot” kinda changes. She fucking evolves. Have a teacher that likes long legs, you need to pass American History? If you’re Melissa Monroe, a junior at Middlesex High, your legs get longer. Does your supervisor like big butts? Boom. Asszilla. Really helped at that dealership she worked at. And here, with this cretin of a doctor who wants to - what? - be a fucking worm like all you other guys these days and burrow into our fucking under-tits? She’s not just growing into some sort of Dolly Parton meets Pam Anderson the 4000cc porn star She-Hulk the Amazon Queen Kong, SHE’S MAKING HIM FUCKING SHRINK. And I think - no, I know - that it has to do with these chemicals coming off of her. They’re doing something to him, and they’re changing everyone else, all these other bimbos, too. They’re making them taller and stronger and bustier and some of them are getting fucking superpowers.

BUT WHY NOT ME?!?!!!?

I’m fucking pissed. I mean, I took this job in the first place because I wanted in. This stupid old-person medical practice is, like, ground zero for some of the shit going down. No one really tells us these things but I just know it.

This “Product” that they’re ‘studying’? ‘Testing’? What a joke. They know what it does, they’re just jumping through hoops that they could break into pieces, if they really wanted. This stuff they’re injecting is making all these study subjects into little fucking Melissas!! I’ve seen it, I’ve read some of the papers and documents that come through that are supposed to be classified or whatever. Shit that, for some reason, people like Morgan and Kathy have access to but he doesn’t?? And he’s the ‘principal investigator’? Red flag much?

I mean, I’m not a scientist but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that they’ve concocted some treatment from whatever it is that naturally makes Melissa a freak of nature and they’re trying to spread it around. So they can have a whole, what?, echelon of women that can breastfeed a small village or break spines with their bare hands?

Is “echelon” too big a word for you? Sorry. Yeah, the way I see it, Evolution Pharmaceuticals - or, probably rather, this big shadowy network of companies they’re calling 'The Collective'  is trying to create a bunch of these ‘Queen Bees’ from hand-picked women, each with their own little ‘hive’, like the thing Melissa has here with the girls (THAT I’M BEING EXCLUDED FROM). They want to make some sort of ruling class maybe, using like Melissa’s genetics or something. Is that it? Well, whatever the fuck it is I refuse to be left behind. I came here wanting to be part of this shit, but now I know too much. In fact. I don’t want to be a fucking worker bee anymore, even if it does mean growing six inches taller and knockers the size of zeppelins. I want to be a fucking Queen. The fucking Queen.

But nobody will talk to me. My calls to Evolution go unreturned. I’ve tried to weasel into, or at least listen in on, some of the meetings between these ones that I think are “agents” here - Morgan, Kathy, Karen (if that’s her real name), some of the others - but these chicks are pretty careful. My next thought is approaching the intern - Sammi. I think she knows more than she lets on, and is into something weird with the tall redhead Bianca and the big-boned one. Emily, yeah that’s her name. Even this new manager lady Olivia - the friend of his wife’s that’s never around - something’s up with her.

What else do you want to know? Oh yeah, about the prion? Didn’t think I knew about that, did you? I didn’t even know what a g-d prion was until I started reading some of the communications back and forth between these agent-girls here and Evolution. They didn’t explain too much themselves, but I did  some of my own snooping. It's been around for a while - I'm not sure how long, a few years, at least - and it changes people somehow. Not necessarily physically, but maybe it's what started everything on this…whatever. Path, trajectory that society’s taking.Like, ten years ago there’s no way most girls would have wanted to be taller than their boyfriends. Back when I was in high school guys always tended to be kinda in charge. But maybe it was around then that things started to change?

Anyway, for now, I have more important things to worry about. Like, I have his suit. Yeah, someone had bought it for him, brought it to the tailor to size it down for this photoshoot thing (he'd shrunk again since they measured him for the suit). They’re doing this press event crap over the weekend, and though it sounds like he’s more an afterthought at this point, they want him to at least look put-together. The news station was sending people over today to get some footage, take some pictures for a news piece they’re doing to cover the grand opening of the new wings, which - technically- wasn't until Monday but there’s like this little ceremony or whatever, some party with the new staff this Friday. So, yeah, I thought, if I hijacked his suit, I could get in on some more of the action.

“Heyyy! You’re awake!” I sang, busting into his office that morning with my friendliest, most bubbly office-girl voice. I wanted to make him comfortable, and I knew he’d basically been avoiding me since the party downtown where I’d come on maybe a little too strong for him to handle. So yeah I can play the bimbo when I need to. “So…I have your suit, and we need to get you dressed. It’s almost eleven and your photoshoot’s in a half hour!”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he answered, looking up from whatever he’d been doing on his computer. He didn’t look well, kinda squirrely. Immediately he started nervously smushing down the bed-head of hair that he was sporting. “And, uh, good morning Angie,” he finally said. 

“Good morning to you!” I sang back. Of course I noticed the cot in the corner with the rumpled sheets. The girls had snuck him some of Katarina’s breastmilk yesterday, I heard, and it had eventually knocked him out for more than twelve hours. I’d filed that under “another weird thing I’ve got to figure out” in my brain and moved on, but not until I’d grabbed the bottle of leftover milk still in the breakroom fridge and hid it away. 

“Speaking of good mornings, I haven’t had my daily kiss yet!” I chirped (yes I can chirp if I want to). I saw the look that came across his face but I moved in on him anyway, laying the suit I held on its hanger down flat on his desk and leaning over, towards him. I’d made the mistake of wearing this high-necked black sweaterdress today, with these crazy shoulder pad things; something with some cleavage would have been useful for this moment. “C’mon,” I said, “You know the rules!” My face was suddenly right in front of his, and I set my eyes to flash, egging him on.

For as dumb as Melissa is, this new policy of mandatory morning greetings was a win. Even though I could tell his heart wasn’t in it, just getting him to peck me on the lips gave me the chance to exert some dominance. My tongue danced over his lips and even though he pulled away quickly I could feel him shudder.

“Watcha working on?” I asked, leaning in a bit more to look at his computer screen, rotating it towards myself. He was writing to someone, and I saw him get nervous. Was this one to that “Anderson” guy? No, it looked like he was talking to someone else.  “Some emails?”

“Y-yeah…” he answered…

========================================

Thx to Elephantporn for the image and RiF for editing work

[decaydanceredacted]

sorry i just came to this fantasy so i might be extremely incoherent and rambly. cw omorashi and mutual desperation.

i wanna dom pete so badly and have us both need to pee at the start of the scene. i’m a sucker for outfit details so i’m imagining him in a tight white shirt with a long sleeve mesh shirt underneath, TIGHT light blue skinny jeans, and most importantly, satin underwear that can’t absorb anything at all. i’m imagining myself wearing a cute leather get up with a micro skirt, also very unabsorbant. he’s on his knees, hands behind his back, not allowed to touch himself and squirming desperately, partially because he’s too hard to function and partially because he’s fighting a losing battle against his bladder, the waistband of his pants pushing into his rock hard bladder and knowing that if he leaks, it'll show up on his pants almost immediately. i’m making a show of holding myself and whining how badly i need to pee, mostly to mock him not being able to touch himself but also because i’m on the verge of bursting too. he’s not allowed to piss himself until i do, so this is torture for him, but at least all the blood in his body is being directed towards his dick, making it marginally easier to hold. i start grinding against the edge of the bed he’s kneeling on, getting off on seeing him squirm and try not to whine with how close he is to bursting. he freezes and squeezes his eyes shut as a strong wave of desperation hits him like a freight train, and i tsk at him, telling him he needs to watch me so he doesn’t relieve himself too early. he reluctantly opens his eyes, tears just barely starting to form, but his cock is straining against that zipper, aching to be touched, either to help hold back piss or release cum. i teasingly let out a leak, but my bladder betrays me, and within a second i’m full force pissing against the bed post. i play it off like i meant to do that, moaning in only slightly exaggerated relief as it pours down the side, still dry humping the post the whole way through. he watches me, still being such a good boy, waiting until i’m fully empty before his own bladder finally forces a leak out. i’ve cum from just grinding the bed post, and i’m a little hazy, but i see the leak, a small wet spot on those impossibly tight jeans, the light color giving him no other excuse to what it could be. i crawl onto the bed behind him, trailing my finger down his neck, feather light, and he squirms even more now, finally breaking and begging me to let him piss himself. i giggle and tell him that he already seemed to be in the process of it, and since he was such a good boy waiting until i finished, he can pee too. a moan is ripped out of his throat as he finally gives into the urge and he pisses himself, light jeans rapidly darkening, rock hard bladder bulge softening and shrinking in size, the loud hissing as the completely clear piss soaks both legs of his jeans and the bed underneath him. he’s thanking me so profusely between moans of relief, thanking me for finally letting him go. i just giggle a bit, playing with his nipples through his shirt as he’s finally finishing, a good thirty seconds later. i joke that he really was holding for me all day, and he just thanks me for letting him go before his body decided for him. i get back in front of him, and i dry hump (wet hump?) him to a breathless orgasm, ruining the piss soaked pants even further with cum. he collapses into me, nails digging into me, trying to find some traction as he twitches through an orgasm, his body already spent from holding in all that piss for me all day. after i make sure he’s okay, he reassures me that he was so into it, he could barely think with how turned on he was. i tell him to change the sheets and clean himself up once i do, and once we make sure everything is clean, we have cuddly make outs where he fingers me to another, softer orgasm and i jerk him off slowly and lazily until he cums with barely a whine. we both drift off to sleep afterwards.

holy shit i am SO sorry for the short novella i wrote jesus.

.

[night-gay]

Into the Anthill pt 7 - Among Us Walks A Goliath

Taking a year off to focus on his research left Hank at a big disadvantage when he was finally forced to suit up again. Still unable to become Ant-Man and barely able to perform as Giant-Man, the strain of his first outing as Goliath caused him to be stuck at a height of 10 feet. During this time he had increasingly common swings of depression and rage that not even Janet could shake him out of, possibly our first real glimpse of Hank’s bipolar disorder. His mood stabilized some once Dr. Bill Foster helped him regain his full size-changing abilities, but his newfound temper left him quicker to snap and eager to brawl.

But hey, at least all that size changing finally mutated his superpowers into him.

🐜🐜🐜

Avengers vol 1 #28-33

Jan was captured by The Collector after escaping Attuma in Avengers #26, so Hank called the Avengers to ask for help, revealing his secret identity to them in the process. After not suiting up for so long Hank could only go between 25 feet and his standard size. Wanda gifted him a new uniform (that she made for him in her spare time for some reason) and they savd Jan, but due to overexertion Hank got stuck at 10ft tall and could not shrink further. Cap had some doctor he knew back in WW2 examine Hank. The doctor suggested that Hank would die instantly if he ever tried to return to normal size again, which threw him into a rage before he settled into just being miserable instead.

Desperate for a solution, Hank traveled to South America on his own to find a scientist that he hoped could help him return to normal. One high-tech mystical secret society later he had rescued the kidnapped scientist, who quickly explained that the only bio-chemist on Earth brilliant enough to save Goliath was Hank Pym. Go figure.

Hank kicked Jan out of his lab, insisting that he needed another bio-chemist as his assistant. At Tony’s recommendation he hired Bill Foster and the two of them got along swimmingly. The Sons of the Serpent then attacked Bill and abducted Cap, so the Avengers took them down with Black Widow’s help.

Tales of Suspense vol 1 #84

Cap brought AIM’s Super Adaptoid to Avengers HQ to have Hank study it, but as someone who had never built any robot more complicated than a remote-controlled ant (yet) he wasn’t able to determine much. The Adaptoid took this opportunity to copy all of their powers and attacked Cap once he was alone.

Amazing Spider-Man Annual #3

The Avengers (even Thor and Iron-Man) unanimously voted to offer Spider-Man membership if he could bring the Hulk to them (as a sort of field test). Spidey intentionally failed the test once he learned about Bruce Banner’s struggle, allowing Hulk to escape safely yet again.

Avengers vol 1 #34-40

The Living Laser became obsessed with Jan after seeing her at a bank. Laser successfully tricked Hawkeye and Cap into a laser cage so he could suck her into a jar and escape. He then attempted to overthrow a Central American government and trapped Cap and Hawkeye again. Hank’s work with Bill Foster finally paid off here, as he was able to shrink down to his former Ant-Man size again to break into Laser’s machine and cause it to explode.

Quicksilver was captured by Ixar and the Ultroids, so the rest of the team - along with Black Widow - traveled to Transia to free him. Ixar was able to get the full team trapped in capsules and planned to steal their powers. Hank shrank through a tube to set the team free.

After the Ixar incident the Avengers held a meeting to decide if Black Widow should be allowed to join, but Nick Fury got to her first and sent her on a deep cover mission to China. Just after the team noticed that Cap had gone MIA they were attacked by Hercules, who Enchantress had just hypnotized. He eventually snapped out of it, but Zeus ordered him to stay on Earth for one year as punishment for entering the mortal realm without permission. Hank invited him to stay at Avengers HQ, offering him Thor’s old room. Hercules would then save the Avengers from the Mad Thinker, Hammerhead, Piledriver, Thunder Boot, and a cosmic-cube-empowered Namor over the next two issues despite not officially joining the team yet.

Minor/Cameo appearances from this period:

Strange Tales vol 1 #156

[breaddragonette]

Bones of Dragon

Deprived of any gleams within the darkness, the great beast soared through the air with no hesitation or question as to where it was going. Clouds cluttered the sky above, shoving any possible star into the back with no room for them to slip by, grumbling often and low. Even though the air remained dry, exceedingly few would even wish to step out into the shadowy abyss engulfing the lands. But, as dangerous and terrifying as this would be for many others, the dragon accepted the child's play offered before them.

Certainty filled their mind more than the darkness filled the land. Others, even with a powerful source to scare off nearby darkness, would not have the same clarity. Their ability to see a couple feet ahead leaves them blind, for the dragon can tell precisely how far something is, almost as if it were pressing against the tip of their nostrils. Their navigation through the darkness was nothing to be impressed about; rather, the haste they make into it is what should be praised. They are flying at full speed, and have no intention of slowing down until they reach their unmarked destination.

The night may be dark, but they themselves were darker. By contrast, the shadowy abyss engulfing everything is to them as sunshine is to most living creatures. The void itself was not enough to hide anything from such a creature, their own shadow casting a darkness over the blanket itself. Grand in size, rougher than a mountain, and tougher than reinforced steel, the dragon was nothing short of a terror that pierced through what cannot be seen into.

In time, the immense dragon came upon the entrance of a cave, one that was quite too small compared to themself. They came to a quick landing, sending a small quake through the ground. They allowed a brief moment to stretch their limbs before folding in their wings, spitting out two separate objects from their maw onto the invisible ground. Soon after, they would rapidly shrink, their body changing alongside their size, becoming something else. Where once a large dragon stood was now someone the size of a man, and while he seemed nothing alike to what he was before, some dragon features remained, revealing who he really was.

Now that he was a size that could enter the cave entrance, the dragon bent over to take the large sacks he spat out moments prior, still drenched in saliva. Taking a large, heavy sack in each hand, the dragon man proceeded into the cave. It was as dark inside as it was outside, which, to say the least, meant it was just as bright outside as it was inside. They effortlessly wandered through the cave, avoiding stalagmites and stalactites alike, and would travel for a number of minutes before reaching what lay on the other end.

On the other side was a large room, simply as bright as anything else, with mounds of treasure lying in wait: gold coins that would twinkle, gems and valuable stones that would glisten, even valuable jewelry that would sparkle. Carved and expanded, the dragon's den held more wealth than what many nobles could spend, slowly and steadily growing larger as time went on. The dragon added to it, opening one sack to pour more over what was there, and simply left the sack itself on top.

Despite all of the valuables, not even so much as one measly little coin was of any value to the dragon.

Instead of marveling over the growing wealth, the dragon simply carried the second sack further into the den, walking around the mounds to reach an area in the back. Greeted by what seemed to be an ordinary wall, the dragon placed an open palm onto it, and simply used his strength to slide it over, revealing a hidden room. He stepped in, leaving the fake wall exposed, and came to face his true treasure.

Bones.

But just not any ordinary bones. The bones of his enemies, from those great to those forgettable. Yes, truly, this dragon had no interest in material wealth, or anything of the sort. Instead, he holds a great interest in the enemies he had encountered throughout the years. Stepping further, the dragon's purple eyes shone with revelry, recognizing various bones displayed, remembering many battles fought.

There were shelves, pedestals, and even a pile. The pile consisted of those either lackluster or irrelevant, used as nothing more than building material for those more worthwhile. And the worthwhile went onto the shelves, their skulls, some even just fragments, were placed as trophies of sorts. While none too remarkable, the owners were vaguely interesting in some way or another, be it respectable or despisable. But, the true collection pieces were the skulls set on top of pedestals, carved of stone as the base, and adorned with the remains of others. These were the remarkable ones, either having won their place through a valiant battle, or becoming such a hated foe that they could not leave the dragon's mind.

He took a moment to gaze over the skulls atop the pedestals, admiring the great battles, and despising the worst of the wretches. But, amongst them, sat an empty pedestal, yearning for its own decoration to display. The dragon set the sack down, and snatched out the latest skull that has marked their place to belong. While not the most impressive combatant, their wit stood out from many others, especially among the group they fought in. This one lone skull was allowed to rest atop the pedestal, while the bones of the other members were promptly tossed towards the pile without a second thought.

A fresh skull always brought a certain life to the unlit cave.

Dragons have treasure hoards for adventurers to target. Those are usually cover ups to hide what the dragons actually care for. Some run orphanages, others have meticulously tended gardens, some have the most well stocked libraries in the world etc.

[herofics]

found this from your tfp blog and I rlly gotta say love your writing!! I'm hoping to request something akin to the human with size-shifting powers that you did on your other blog, (reader has a quirk that lets them change the size of people and things) and just some hc's for Dabi, Bakugou, and Hawks? Like reader just shrinking them down and putting them on their shoulder if they're annoying them or something, but anyways luv your writing ok byeeeee!!!

Aaaw, thank you very much, this was fun to write btw. I did it as romantic, because I felt like that was a better fit for this. Tbh this was about to turn into some sort of fucking size kink thing at so many points but I resisted bravely lol. A bit of a violence tw for the Dabi one but it’s not bad so I decided not to tag it

~Hawks/Takami Keigo~

•Hawks thinks your quirk is quite cool and useful in everyday stuff

•You didn’t go into the hero business, but you’ve found other good uses for your quirk

•Like when you and Hawks moved in together, you could basically pack everything you owned into one bag, because you could just make everything super small

•He thought that was super handy

•Hawks has a bit of a thing for people who are bigger than him, so you pushing him against the wall and just towering over him is definitely something he likes

•You like to change your size depending on the situation, but you’re usually just your normal height, since it’s not usually necessary to change that

•A lot of your clothes are made from material that can accommodate you changing your size so them tearing isn’t usually a problem

•And of course you can just change the size of your clothes with your body if you feel like it

•Hawks doesn’t really mind if you make him small, it’s honestly kinda fun sometimes, but you’ve made a deal you only do it to him at home, so if something like a villain attack happens he doesn’t need to be changed back

•Hawks has a few of his feathers scattered around the apartment, so if he doesn’t feel like flying he can just sit on the feather and control it, getting around that way

•It’s honestly pretty adorable

•Also if he’s being really annoying and whiny like he can sometimes be, especially when he doesn’t get enough affection, you can just shrink him down and he sit on your shoulder

•When he’s sitting there, he likes to lean against your neck and play with your hair or whisper things into your ear

•You usually can’t stand that for very long, because his wings tickle your neck and ear so you just give in and return him to his normal size and go cuddle with him

~Dabi~

•Dabi thinks your quirk is pretty useless, at least until you got creative with it when you were doing some stuff for the League

•Let’s just say that the bottom of your boot is often pretty bloody and gorey

•If you shrink Dabi, at all, like even a little bit, he would most likely threaten you with a very painful death

•He doesn’t like when people have any kind of control over him, so being so small someone could step on him? Big fucking no

•It’s more often that you make yourself small and sit on his shoulder, though it’s pretty rare that he’d let you do that

•He does think it’s incredibly funny when you use your quirk on Spinner or Toga though

•If you want attention or he’s been a bitch you shrink his clothes sometimes, but you do it just enough that you can claim it shrunk in the wash

•Dabi of course doesn’t believe this and complains about it until you make his clothes the right size again

•Doing this to his shoes is also fucking funny, but then you’ll have to to be good at dodging said shoe when it comes flying at you, possibly burning

~Bakugou Katsuki~

•Bakugou is often a victim of a bit of a “time out”, which means he gets shrunk down to small enough to sit on your palm

•You can’t exactly just put him a high shelf, because his quirk would allow him to just basically fly down from there

•So what you do is you get the “time out shirt”, which is a shirt with a breast pocket, so he just has to sit in there until he calms down

•His head is just peeking out from the pocket and he’s glaring at everyone else

•It’s a miracle he actually agrees to stay in there, but miracles happen sometimes

•He can listen to your heartbeat when he puts his ear against your chest, which is actually the only reason why he doesn’t argue with you too much about the whole “time out” thing

•Afterwards he’s a bit huffy thought, because of course he has to act like he hates it

•He does love being so close to you though

•He’s strong of course, but your quirk makes moving and rearranging furniture a breeze

•You’re not exactly a hero, you’re more of a search and rescue worker if that makes sense, since you basically do hero work but you don’t actually have the qualifications to be called a pro-hero

•It’s easy for you to get into small places and search for people on collapsed buildings and such

•Bakugou also thinks it’s super cute when you make his shirts too big for you so you can just go around the apartment in a big hoodie or t-shirt

•Depending on the piece of clothing, you don’t even always need to change its size

[thesuperheroeater]

Top 10 Marvel Preys:

10 Hercules

After having fully digested Thor, and turning him into bellyfat, Hulk found that god meals was one of the best. He would love to have some more. Luckily for him, there's another god on the team, named Hercules. So during sparing session together, Hulk created his own rules, and gulped the God down his stomach, into the acid tank. Hulk was pleased with his new meal, laying down and letting him digest. The god struggles were a pleasure that couldn't be denied.

9 Ikaris

Star-lord and Ikaris were assined to work together for a mission through space. Peter was the jalous type and was irritated to work with such an awesome man on his ship. And on his side Ikaris isn't the most cooperative person either. This mission promised to by a failure. But when they were in the ship, Star-lord got hungry and when looking at Ikaris, knew how he could benefit from this teamwork. He swallowed the other one without thinking too much. Drooling all around it, savouring the muscles the superhuman has. When he came back home, Ikaris was no more than belly fat on Quill.

8 Thor Odinson

Thor know what it's like to feel hungry. He has a monsturous appetite and in consequence ate a lot of his teammates, Clint, Scott, Banner. But one day he discovered that his dear Captain, Steve Rogers, 'suffers' from the same appetite. He was suprised to see Spider-man halfway down the Captain's throat when he entered the room. Steve panicked at the sight of Thor and continued to gulp the kid down sending him straight to his acid gut, where screams followed as he get's digested. Rogers didn't know what to do as Thor discovered his secret. But Thor quickly get's a turn on as he tells Steve it's normal to feel so hungry, and he wouldn't mind be eaten by his Captain. Steve accepted the offer and send him down his throat, straight to the stomach. As Thor land in the acid pool he's welcomes by broken pieces of what Peter has become. Cap's enjoying his double meal, as Thor is trying his best to enjoy himself dispite the ripping of flesh and his broken bones...

7 Black Bolt aka Blackagar Boltagon

Meeting between leaders weren't the most fun part, but it must exist. This time only Black Bolt and Mister Fantastic were present, Cyclops and Cap being late. So it promised to be a very boring meeting, at least so it was until Reed dicides to have some fun. He swallowed Blackagar's head into his mouth, followed by the rest of the muscular body, closing his mouth when the prey's feet entered. The meal landed in the acid pool, and started to digest. Bones crushing, flesh ripping, Black Bolt was in pain, but he didn't scream. When he was completely digested and turned in a pile of bones in the middle of the meeting room, Cap and Cyclops arrived, soon following the same fate as their fellow teammate.

6 Ant-man aka Scott Lang

Sam always loved to go big, so when he had to work with ant-man, a man who can litteraly shrink to the size of an ant, he wasn't realy hyped. But it quickly changed when he discovered that Scott not only gets small but also giant, a giant that would be one of a challenge for his ass. When Ant-man turned into Giant-man during the battle, it didn't took long for the black man to get him fully up his ass. Now Sam's laying on a Giant-sized belly. Waiting for his meal to break down an turn into the biggest log of shit.

5 The Human Torch aka Johnny Storm

Spider-man and The Human Torch were close friends, and they knew they can have each others back. But there's a risk when one is a prey, just like Johnny. The risk being, that when Peter is hungry he highly will go for the handsome blond. Which he did. This time during patrol Peter couldn't resist anymore, he knows it's dirty to eat a friend, but he can't deny it anymore. He gulps Johnny all down his stomach, where he ends up in the acid pool, waiting to digest. As he's lying there, Johnny's pleading his friend to release him, not wanting to die, but he's a prey, he should accept his fate.

4 Quiksilver aka Pietro Maximoff

Pietro was kind of a brat. Always irritating Barton calling him of all names, 'old man' being his favorite. But when you never leave someone alone, even more if this someone is a pred, you shouldn't be surprised to end up in his ballsac. Now the 'old' man is laying in his bed, with a big smile on his face. ''That's what you deserve.'' He soon starts to masturbate, turning Pietro into jizz. Some up and downs later and Clint jerks the boy's remains all over his abs, pecs and face.

3 The Winter Soldier aka Bucky Barnes

Bucky and John didn't go along well. Bucky couldn't stand the other calling himself Captain America, and the other didn't like bucky not suporting him. Well the fact that he swallowed the previous Captain America up the ass didn't help. But Bucky has to accept that Steve is no more, well just a pile of bones now. Eventualy Walker will understand that it will probably never happen, well if he can't get Bucky by his side, he will get him inside. When they were both alone, John took his cock out and slurped Barnes in it, the figure of The Winter Soldier visible through it, sliding down the cock straight to the ballsac. Dispite his struggles Bucky will eventually end as a cumstain on the wall.

2 Spider-man aka Peter Parker

Peter trusted Quentin, deeply. But when he betrayed him and revealed himself as Mysterio, he felt bad, not because he trusted a criminal, but because he still likes him. He always found him atractive, he can't help it. That's why, when Quentin took his cock out and shoves the kid in it, during the confrontation, Peter let him do. He would lie if he says he doesn't like it. Spider-man is sliding deeper down Beck's giant cock, ending in his ballsac. Quentin is moaning as he's jerking of wildly, eager to turn this kid in his next load of cum. All while Peter has accepted his fate, closing his eyes forever.

1 Captain America aka Steve Rogers

Friends since forever, Bucky and Steve could always count on each other. They were often send together during mission, 'cause their complicity was unmatched. And so they were send to a mission to infiltrate some Hydra bases, like they often do. But this time it was different. Because this time Bucky had a powerfull hunger. Such things did happen in the past, and he would feast on a shield agent or a criminal, but now there was no one around, no one except Steve. He knowd he shouldn't but his hunger comes first. At an unexpected momment, during the infiltration. The Winter Soldier swallows his childhood friend. With big hungry, slobbery bites he gets first the head in, followed by his pecs, abs and legs. Bucky moans as the blond is getting deeper and deeper inside. Drool, all over his meal, and himself. He soon takes his last bite of his meal, locking him inside forever. Steve is struggling inside, trying to speak it out. But it's useless, he's isn't Bucky's chilhood friend anymore, but his meal. With a smirk on his face he gives his swollen belly a big slap, breaking Rogers into nothing.

After he burped Steve's bones and skull out, he goes back to his mission as if nothing ever happened.

[sarcasmic-skies]

the dead poets vs. laundry 🧺

based on this post by @tuskofthyme <3

i’ve worked in the laundry industry for 4+ yrs so i feel qualified to speak on the matter 😌✨(jokes!)

**i wrote these hcs under the assumption the welton boys are responsible for their own laundry & i tried to adjust to be accurate to 1959!! the first bullet points for charlie & knox i based on a guy my sister knew in college! he was from vermont & yes, that’s the god-honest truth. it makes me laugh every time i think abt it, which is at least once a day

charlie:

him & knox never learned how to do laundry so they just. buy new clothes whenever they run out of clean ones. meeks & todd are horrified.

purchases only name-brand garments. never looks at price tags (trust fund baby)

calls the laundromat a “laundry-mat”

charlie’s mother washes his clothes for him whenever he’s home. he always says thank-you and kisses her on the cheek <3 (he’s a mama’s boy)

after rowing practice he throws his dirty uniform in a pile in the corner of his & cameron’s room. the pile grows through the term, along with mold and mildew :)

favorite garment: a bright pink polo shirt he bought after reading ‘a separate peace’ (1959)

has really nice clothes but doesn’t take care of em (“i can’t put my leather jacket in the washing machine??! what do you mean i’m gonna ruin it?!? cows don’t get ruined when it rains!!!”)

once, charlie was trying to be funny and got stuck in one of the dryers at the laundromat. it took the combined efforts of pitts, meeks, todd, neil, and knox to pull him out.

neil:

watched his mother do the laundry growing up & learned by observation. his aunt taught him how to sew at the age of twelve

always lays his beloved wool sweaters flat to dry so they wont shrink in the dryer

hangs his pants with a crease. color-codes his closet. repairs any tears in his clothes with his travel-size mending kit

pairs & rolls his socks, most of which are argyle

embroiders tiny hearts on the inside of all his sweater sleeve cuffs for todd to find

goes with todd, meeks, and pitts to the laundromat every sunday after welton’s mass

gave up on trying to teach charlie proper garment care years ago (he refuses to learn)

always makes an effort to look polished and sharp. takes really good care of his clothes. mr. perry loves to remind neil that “appearances are everything”

likes to read the movie magazines at the laundromat. gossips with the older women about montgomery clift, rock hudson, and tab hunter

has to fight the urge to jump in one of the laundry carts and roll around the store every time he’s there bc carpe diem!

todd:

he’s helped his mom with the laundry from the time he could reach the dials on the washing machine. todd’s learned just about everything there is to know abt household laundry & can fold fitted sheets. perfectly <3

todd finds laundry very calming and satisfying. nice to turn his brain off and just focus on folding & hanging his clothes nicely :,)

jeff always said “thanks little man” when todd ‘delivered’ clean clothes to him. todd misses that. a lot. so does jeff.

wardrobe comprised of almost exclusively jeff’s hand-me-downs (they are a little big on him)

is a GOD when it comes to getting stains out. not even spilled ink can withstand his technique

hangs his pants with a crease, doesn’t fold em. ALWAYS checks the pockets before washing

enjoys the trips to the laundromat more than he lets on. helps him feel less homesick

pairs & rolls his socks, organizes them by color in his drawer

always checks garment tags for proper care instructions. hates having to pay for drycleaning

meeks:

neil taught him & pitts the art of laundry

measures out the detergent with the utmost precision. refuses to use bleach

does not separate darks from lights from whites (“after you’ve washed them a few times the colors shouldn’t bleed or transfer! i refuse to do multiple loads!”)

does pitts’ laundry for him helps pitts with his laundry

always brings extra change for the jukebox <3

keeps forgetting he has pens in his shirt pockets and they explode in the wash. ink ends up all over his clothes more than a few times. (todd comes to the rescue in these situations)

not fantastic at folding but better than some

washes everything on ‘cold’ (“it conserves energy & water”), dries everything on ‘low’ (meeks is terrified of starting a dryer fire)

helps the older women in the laundromat a lot. they always compliment him and try to set him up with their daughters, nieces, granddaughters, etc. (“such a nice boy!”)

pitts:

forgets to check the pockets of his clothes before loading them in the washing machine

washes everything on ‘hot’ (“it sanitizes the fabrics!”), dries everything on ‘high’ (then wonders why his pants keep getting shorter)

doesn’t fold his clean clothes, just puts em in a basket. refuses to pair his socks

is asked to help fold sheets, comforters, quilts, etc. by the older ladies in the laundromat all the time bc he is so TALL! pitts is always happy to assist <3

endlessly appreciative whenever meeks does laundry for him

made the mistake of putting a brand new pair of red socks in with the whites the first time he washed his clothes by himself. his undershirts, underwear, socks, & rowing sweater all came out bright pink, like marilyn monroe’s satin dress in ‘gentlemen prefer blondes’. charlie never let him hear the end of it.

cameron:

gets up early every morning to press his shirts & crease his pants with his personal clothes iron

uses sock garters to keep his nylon stretch socks up. sometimes forgets to unclip them & they go through the wash lol

for the longest time he was using shirt hangers for pants and pant hangers for shirts. charlie pointed it out. they argued about it for 20+ minutes (“how would you know? you don’t even do your own laundry!” “big deal! anyone can tell the difference! haven’t you ever picked up dry cleaning?!” “sure i have, but who pays attention to the hangers?!” “i want a divorce, richard”)

bleaches his whites to keep em ✨pristine✨

sometimes overfills the dryer. forgets to clean out the lint trap. gets his quarters stuck in the machines. a lot.

pretreats all stains. scrubs them out with his designated laundry toothbrush and powder soap (this is the most time-consuming part of cam’s laundering process). he’ll ask todd for advice if a stain is particular stubborn

pairs & folds his socks in half like a heathen

his mother hand-sews labels with his full name on em into every single article of clothing he owns. he refuses to be made fun of for this

knox:

no idea how to do laundry. absolutely no clue. like charlie, he buys new clothes whenever he runs out of clean ones

always forgets to cut the sale tags off and remove the big paper collar stays n shirt pins from his new clothes n dress shirts. neil helps.

knox overstreet alone keeps the town dry cleaners in business with the two-dozen cashmere cardigans he drops off each month

“i have nothing to wear!” “knoxious i swear to god if you say that one more time i am going to slap you into next week”

tagged along to help the poets with their laundry once. started a dryer fire. twice.

his dad bought him his first ever pair of blue jeans, the exact same as those worn by james dean in ‘rebel without a cause’ (“don’t tell your mother”). knoxious refuses to wash them, he’s convinced they’ll get ruined. knox & charlie start to call them his ‘james jeans’