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oxymorayuri · 1 month

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❞𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞❝

Headcanons with my favorite boyssss [ Ace | Kid | Law | Doffy ] Wordcount » 1234 (lol no way... you see it? 1234...) Info » just cute things ;3

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: Ace: qmech | Kid: skxviii | Law: oyasumi_mofu | Doffy: Hijiki_DaiXt

𝑃𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑔𝑎𝑠 𝐷. 𝐴𝑐𝑒

You both get partner tattoos instead of wedding rings but not something lame like a circle around the ring finger rather something small and personal. You have a little flame on the side of your thigh and he has one on his chest that has something to do with you. Maybe you have a devil fruit or a special weapon? It's up to you :p

You never thought you'd cry at your wedding ceremony because Ace let the most beautiful vows EVER leave his lips. His words were typically Ace and in between your tears he made you laugh. You were almost ashamed when it was your turn because you just wanted to repeat a sentence he once said to you but you changed it a bit… "I'm not interested in living a thousand years, it's enough for me to survive today with you." You spoke. Ace recognized the words immediately and remembered the conversation you shared in the past with a broad grin. He almost yanked you to him and kissed your lips even though the priest hadn't even given his blessing yet. But he doesn't care, he doesn't need the priest's blessings when he has you.

He definitely had his own thoughts about the wedding. For example, he has looked into various traditions… but it seems like he got something wrong… Instead of carrying you bridal style over the doorstep, he carried you all day. As soon as you set foot on the floor to get a new drink, he picked you up in his arms. His statement? "Come on love, when will I have the chance to carry you in your wedding dress again?". Okay that's smooth.

𝐸𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑠 𝐾𝑖𝑑

Kid probably would never have proposed to you on his own. You've been together for so long now and every time you've seen a married couple your mood has soured. You were annoyed and also disgusted and one day Killer asked you about it and in the conversation you ironically realized that you also wanted to get married lol… when you were with Kid in his workshop you casually mentioned, that you thought it would be a good idea for the two of you to get married as he was working on one of his new creations. He froze at the word marriage and the next second his machine caught fire because he held the welding rod on it for too long. You both panicked and put out the fire and you realized that he found the topic unpleasant and unnecessary, but you are you and you get everything you want, even if you have to force him! Luckily for you, Killer told you that Kid likes the idea of you committing to him forever, but pshht… otherwise Killer will lose his life.

He will send you away if you want to ask him something about the wedding planning or want his opinion. He'll just tell you that you can do whatever you think is necessary (ugh). You think it's a bit of a shame but you don't mind, you just want him to feel comfortable at his own wedding. After all, it's not just yours. But if it were up to him, he would simply put the ring on your finger and seal your marriage with a big smooch on the lips. But later in the evening you notice that he has circled options he likes or left little notes on your wedding plans and that's when you know you're marrying the right one.

he forges your rings and is quite proud of his work, but secretly nags Killer that he is unsure whether you like the rings. When he saw the sparkle in your eyes and heard your words about how much you love the rings, his heart stopped for a moment only to beat extremely fast. He wanted to marry you right on the spot, but he knows how much love you put into the planning. Happy wife happy life lol.

𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑎𝑟 𝐷. 𝑊𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐿𝑎𝑤

A grand wedding with everyone (including the straw hats etc.) is planned, but he has other plans and takes you to the most romantic place to have a wedding ceremony just for the two of you. The party can still take place afterwards with everyone, you are a little social butterfly after all, but the wedding ceremony? That's between you and him <3

Law, similar to Ace, would want partner tattoos instead of real rings but rather in an intimate place where only both of you will see it… if you know what I mean ;) It's safe to say he'll shower your tattoo with kisses everytime when you're getting busy.

He has already seen you (without you knowing it) in your wedding dress. He knew exactly what was going on when you waltzed happily past him with a big package... And even if he hesitated for a moment, he followed you discreetly like a pretty good stalker… He peered through the gap of the door to the room you shared. You were apparently so excited that you hadn't even closed the door. He heard you squealing happily in the bathroom and without really realizing it, he held his breath until you came out of the bathroom. And then you stood there in your beautiful white dress. The feeling in his chest increased rapidly as he watched you twirl in front of the mirror like a princess. Your laughter makes him grin… "I guess she's just as happy as I am that we're getting married..." he thought to himself with a satisfied expression as he let go of the door and walked away. He leaves you a little moment for yourself and your joy, he'll see you walking towards him soon anyway. He is pretty sure that he will never forget that moment. The sight of you walking towards him will be engraved in his brain.

𝐷𝑜𝑛𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑡𝑒 𝐷𝑜𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑜

You want fireworks that paint your faces in the sky? A thousand white doves that are released when you kiss? A 10 meter high chocolate fountain? A wedding in pink? No problem. Your list is long and you get everything you want. Doflamingo will put together the perfect team to fulfill your every wish. Money doesn't matter, but you do.

You get a ring with a gemstone you've never seen before. Even if you express your doubts that you are afraid of losing this precious ring, Doffy reacts almost insulted. You are the rarest and most valuable gemstone in the world. If you lose the ring, he'll have a new one before you know it.

It's going to be a big big wedding BUT not many people are invited because there's a chance of someone ruining it. Whoever is invited is a big figure or part of the family. Everything is secured but not in an oppressive way. It all plays in the background, because if there were security guards everywhere it would ruin your perfect wedding picture. Nobody is allowed to ruin this day for you and him and if they do, they will pay for it. He also has the wedding broadcast live on TV so that everyone can see that he's marrying the most beautiful woman in the world. How extra.

Masterlist

I hope you enjoyed reading it. See you next time <3

𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒚𝒖𝒓𝒊 ♡

#trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #law x reader #one piece #headcanon #portgas d ace #ace x reader #eustass kid #eustass x reader #donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo x reader #one piece reader #eustass kid x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #portgas d ace x reader #donquixote doflamingo x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece x reader

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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months

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how would König react if wifey said I love you during fucking vs how freshly kidnapped darling said ily?

Would he be too delusional to see that freshly kidnapped girlie is doing it for her own benefit, whileas wifey kinda means it actually

Just a normal, plain I love you would catch his attention, obviously. He is a colonel, an elite soldier - he spends days and hours torturing people for information, beating the shit out of probably innocent people just to hear the info he needs. Konig might not be the best at social clues, being kinda lost every time a pretty girl opens her mouth, but he knows when people are saying just what he wants to hear, instead of what the actual truth is. He won't trust you these first few weeks - not because he doesn't want to believe that his pretty darling is falling for him so quickly(he would love for you to just never start fighting against him, making the whole transition into his housewife much easier). He won't trust you because he has a self-esteem problem that he covers with his massive ego, and he just can't believe you would actually love him and fall for him at first sight. It's not for guys like him. But when you're married and moved to the master bedroom, when you have been with him for a month, even going out and never trying to escape again...he will nearly break at the little confession. He said it to himself a thousand times, that he doesn't need you to love him back, that his love is enough for both of you - but when your face is heated, and you kiss him, hug him, when you say this to him as quietly as possible...he is falling for you all over again, finally knowing that he broke you into being his favorite little housewife, stuck in his house without a care in the world.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig

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mismatched-sockss · 2 months

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By your side

» Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader » Word count: 2,6k » Warnings: fluff with some angst, established relationship, mentions of reader wearing jewellery (necklace) and make up, pet names (honey, baby) » A/N: no body description --- pls take a look here for more info about my reader descriptions in general

Being in a relationship with an FBI agent - especially one working in the BAU - meant, dreading each phone call or text they got when they were off the clock and the both of you were spending time together. But it also meant, dreading each phone call you got, when they were out of town and / or state working on a case. The small heart attack you suffered every time the phone rang, the fear of hearing something happened or that they wouldn't be coming home... You prayed to who ever was listening, that you would never get the latter.

Sometimes, it meant dreading to get a call from them before they even had the chance to see you.

Your hands were still holding the clasp of your necklace between your fingers, just about to close it, when your cellphone rang. The screen lit up and for a second you closed your eyes, not quiet ready to confirm who it was.

For a second you wished the caller would be anyone else but - hell, you would even prefer it if it was your mother, who you had not spoken to in almost ten years.

A sigh left your lips when you opened your eyes and looked at the screen: Spence❤️

Well, looked like your evening plans would change.

You lowered your hands, still holding your necklace and placed it back on to the small glass bowl where you kept your most used jewellery in.

You cleared your throat before you answered the call, trying to keep even the slightest bit of disappointment from your voice. And then, you put on a smile and held your phone to your ear. "Hi, you."

"Hey." Spencer drew the greeting out, he sounded less enthusiastic then you had forced yourself to sound. This was the last piece you needed, to know that he wasn't just calling to tell you that he was excited to see you later.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, slightly gnawing on your lip.

"Where?", was all you asked. This time, you couldn't keep your tone light, no matter how hard you were trying.

After a short silence: "Oregon. Lakeview."

You nodded slowly, even though you knew he couldn't see it. "When-", you had to clear your throat again, "uh, when are you leaving?"

"We're about to get on the jet", Spencer answered. It pained him just as much as you, maybe even more, that he had to cancel on you. Again. On your one year anniversary of all days. And you didn't even have some time to at least talk on the phone for a couple of minutes before he had to go.

For a moment neither of you said a word. This wasn't the first time he had to cancel your plans due to his work and it sure as hell would not be the last time. You knew what you were getting yourself in to when Spencer and you started seeing each other. You knew that it would probably happen more times than not and you accepted it; you were more than understanding that the bad guys didn't care for nine-to-fives, weekends or holidays.

You were more than understanding that, while yes, you were a priority in his life, the job would have to come first. And you were fine with that, his job wasn't one he could just “pause” to spent more time with you. But no matter how okay you were with Spencer's unpredictable work hours, that didn't mean it didn't affect you. You couldn't help but feel sad and disappointed when ever he got called away, every time wishing he would stay.

You knew from the start, that it would be hard and it would take a lot of work. But he was worth all of this.

Over the phone you could hear another voice, too distant to make out what was being said, but you didn't need to. It was your cue: your time was up.

"I'm s- I have to go. I'm sorry, honey", Spencer apologized. He would apologise a hundred times more if you'd let him.

"It's okay", you say, a sad smile on your lips.

"I am so sorry, I promise I'll make it-"

But you interrupted him, knowing that he wanted to say that he would make it up to you; and knowing, that he would. "It's okay, baby. Go, they need you. Really, it's okay. I'm okay. I'll see you when you get back. Just... Be safe, okay?"

"I will", he promised, "I will... I love you."

"I love you too." Then, the call ended.

You took in a shaky breath to calm yourself down and wiped the single tear that had escaped from your cheek. Exhaling all the air in your lungs out at once, you squared your shoulders and made eye contact with yourself in the mirror. You had only gone through your skin care routine after you got out of the shower, so there was no make up you had to remove.

A tight lipped smile on your lips, you nodded at yourself. "Just gonna be you, some chinese take out and a nice relaxing horror movie tonight", you mumbled. You stood up, changed into some comfortable clothes and then walked into the kitchen to get the flyer of your favourite chinese restaurant out of the drawer.

It had been almost a week since then. He hadn't told you any details of course, but the simple textbook case that first landed on their desks had turned out to be much bigger than anyone could have imagined.

Spencer had called you every evening, and hearing his voice calmed your worries and fears of him getting hurt, but each phone call made you miss him more and more.

Tonight, he hadn't called you yet and it was getting pretty late. You had gotten a text from him not too long ago, a quick check in, so you knew he was okay.

While you waited, you had brought a book and cup of tea with you as you moved from the couch to your bed. With a pillow in your back, you were leaning against the headboard, your blanket draped over your legs, and your phone lay next to you on the bed.

You looked up from your book to check the time. It was close to one o'clock and it was getting hard to keep your eyes open, sleep already pulling at your conscience, but you didn't want to go to sleep without talking to Spencer. A couple of minutes would do it, you just wanted to hear his voice. You continued reading, but Morpheus had other plans for you, and so you drifted into a deep sleep, your book still in your hands.

A soft touch, first on your forehead and hair, then on your shoulder pulled you out of your dreams just enough for you to feel the bed dip behind you, followed by an arm sneaking around your waist. You hummed happily, when lips pressed against your shoulder and your neck in a few chaste kisses before you were pulled closer against a firm chest.

The smell of coffee and something sweet tickled your nose hours later, slowly stirring you awake. With your eyes still closed you inhaled through your nose, sniffing the air, trying to make out the different smells. If you weren't mistaken, Spencer had baked blueberry-pancakes. It smelled delicious, that was for sure.

Your attention was quickly drawn away though, when you became aware of the feathery kisses being planted on your neck; you vaguely remembered feeling the same kisses last night. A hand gently rubbed over your upper arm, from your elbow up to your shoulder where fingertips moved so softly over your shoulder blade it almost tickled, before the hand travelled back down to your elbow.

A smile spread on your lips as your heartbeat quickened and a warm, fuzzy feeling spread through your stomach. You sighed and slightly moved your head to make more room for the man behind you.

You could feel the lips on your skin stretching into a smile as well, could feel the low chuckle bubbling up in the chest that was pressed against your back. He scooted even closer, moulding his body to the silhouette of yours. Spencer planted one last kiss on the top of your shoulder before he rested his cheek against it and looked at you.

"Good morning", he said softly, his warm breath hit your ear and a shudder ran down your spine. He, obviously, had been up for a while already, but his voice still had that raw and rough undertone like it always had in the morning.

"Hey", you sighed as you stretched your tired muscles, then you turned around, bringing your hand up to touch his cheek. "You're back."

He hummed and leant into your touch, his eyes closed. You let your eyes wander over his face, checking for any cuts or bruises. Relief flooded through you when you didn't find any.

"You okay?", you asked.

He nodded and reached up to cover your hand with his. "Just tired."

"I bet. You didn't say you were coming back. Waited for you to call", you mumbled.

He kissed your wrist and gently squeezed your hand, then he opened his eyes again to meet your gaze. "Surprise?", he joked, but you could hear a hint of guilt in his tone. "I hope I didn't keep you up too long? I'm sorry, I should have at least texted you."

You shook your head. "Don't worry about it. I'm just glad your here now and that you are okay."

"But-", he started but you closed the space between you and kissed him.

"Shh, no buts. I'd stay awake and wait the whole night if it means that I get you back, unharmed and in one piece." You kissed him again, letting you lips linger a bit longer this time.

When you pulled away and saw his furrowed brows and the conflicted look in his eyes, you could almost hear the gears in Spencer's mind working.

He moved his hand to the back of your neck, threading his fingers through your hair and pulled you closer. He pressed his lips against your forehead, but not in the light hearted way he had kissed you before, then he tucked your head under his chin. And if he wouldn't have been so close, you might not have heard the words he whispered next.

"You deserve so much better..."

If someone would have stabbed you with a dull knife multiple times right into your heart, it wouldn't have hurt you as much as his muttered words just had.

"Don't say that", you said, your voice muffled with the way your face was so close to his neck.

In contradiction to what he was implying - or maybe especially because of what he was implying -, Spencer's hold on you tightened, leaving no room for you to put any distance between the both of you even if you wanted. "Why not? It's true... You don't deserve-"

"A sweet and loving boyfriend, who gets up to make breakfast even on days when he had about two hours of sleep at best, all after a whole week of working like 24h a day?" You did your best to sound light hearted. "Wow, that's harsh."

He huffed, but stayed silent for a moment.

"I mean it, you don't deserve someone who you can't even make plans with, without the possibility that they have to leave in the middle of it and who leaves you alone all the time", he mumbled against the crown of your head. It took everything in you not to start crying; for you, for him, for the possibility of an end to the future you wanted with him. "I hate that I have to cancel our dates all the time. I feel like I'm letting you down..." You felt his adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. "And I would understand if you wouldn't want to put up with that any more.”

You placed your hands on his chest and pushed slightly, just enough so you could lean your head back and look at him. Tears had not only welled up in your eyes, but his as well. To stop your lip from quivering you pulled it between your teeth. You slid one of your hands higher, over the side of his neck and up to the side of his face. For a moment you softly stroked your thumb over his cheek, but then went on to try and flatten out the space between his brows, to remove the deep frown on his face.

You took a deep breath. “Did you save some lives in Oregon?”, you asked him, you voice not much louder than a whisper.

“Huh? What?” Confusion was written all over his face.

“Did you?”

“Uh, yes.”

You smiled at him. “And did you catch the bad guy?”

“... Yes.”

“Good." You brushed a strand of hair that had fallen into his eyes behind his ear. "That's enough for me. Then there is nothing to feel bad about. You don't leave on purpose or with ill intentions. Then things don't always go as planned, so what? I know how much this job means to you, and I know how important it is for the people in need that you do it."

A tear escaped from the corner of your eye and landed on the pillow. You let your eyes wander over his face, before stopping to meet his gaze.

"And that's exactly why you deserve better", he whispered, his voice braking.

You shook your head. "I don't want anything or anyone else. I don't want what ever you mean by better." You leaned closer, kissing the corner of his mouth. "I want you. " Another kiss to the other side. "And only you." You planted a kiss on the tip of his nose next. "With or without a crazy and unpredictable work schedule. I'm not gonna lie, yes it's hard. And I need you by my side, too. But still, I wouldn't trade it for the world." You pressed your lips to his, before you whispered: "I love you. More than anything. And I'm gonna stay by your side, come hell or high water, for as long as you'll have me. So don't shut me out, or push me away and try to get me to leave. Because I won't."

Both of you were in tears by now, not even trying to stop it any more. Neither of you said anything else for a minute or two, instead you let your words settle.

Spencer cupped your cheek and wiped your tears away with his thumb. "I have no idea what I did to deserve you. How did I get so lucky?", he said softly and then brushed the pad of this thumb over your bottom lip.

You giggled. "That's my line."

He smiled and closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss. "I love you", he breathed out against your lips before he kissed you again.

You smiled into the kiss. “I love you too.”

For few minutes the both of you just basked in the bliss of the moment; laying warm and content in each others arms, the soft sound of birds chirping outside the bedroom window and the promise of a delicious breakfast that was waiting for you.

And there was only one question left to ask.

“Eat in the kitchen or breakfast in bed?”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #ghosts can write #💜 s.r.#--- mismatched🧦

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arkhammaid · 3 months

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— ˚₊‧⁺˖THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | THE GRID'S REACTION

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. the grid reacts to the news!

content warnings. some drivers are acting like assholes, some cursewords, 23!grid

notes. have another reaction chapter hehe

daniel ricciardo Guys

Guys wake up

IT'S IMPORTANT

lando norris ???

daniel it's 5am, why are you spamming rn

carlos sainz It's summer break, why can't you all shut up for once

daniel ricciardo Did no one see the news? Stark is coming to F1

carlos sainz To a race?

daniel ricciardo No you shithead, he's making a team

charles leclerc !!!!

lando norris at this point you'll never win monaco (because once stark joins, there no longer will BE monaco) charles leclerc Fuck you, nowins

daniel ricciardo This is serious... Tony fucking Stark wants to create an F1 team for the next season. @/max verstappen your winning streak will be over

charles leclerc Next season??? I thought for 26?

lewis hamilton Of course he would do that

charles leclerc Lewis, explain?? daniel ricciardo Yeah Lewis, please explain?

lewis hamilton Did any of you ever meet Tony? He will probably see the next season as test for the 2026 season. To train his mechanics and engineers and go all out. I bet many are saying it's a waste of money

carlos sainz It is a waste of money.

daniel ricciardo Yeah, they do. Reactions vary but 'experts' are saying that Tony is just wasting his time and should properly prepare for 26

lewis hamilton Knowing him, he already has a fully built car for 2026 and it's a beast.

fernando alonso Only the best for his daughter!

charles leclerc What. lando norris wdym his daughter??

george russell Why are you all awake at this bloody hour?

kevin magnussen Read the room. Everyone is in schock.

sergio perez Stupid. She will fail like every woman in motorsport with a rich father. Too dramatic.

lando norris i'm still confused???

oscar piastri Tony Stark has three children. Harley Keener-Stark, Y/n L/n-Stark, Peter Parker-Stark. Y/n is his only biological child and currently racing in Formula 3. She won Formula 4 last year.

charles leclerc I thought he only had sons?? When did Y/n appear? oscar piastri She 'appeared' the first time in January this year as Tony's daughter, no one knew before. lando norris how did you know? oscar piastri Google exists.

carlos sainz So daddy's money... great.

max verstappen I swear to god I will leave this chat the next time you all decide to fucking gossip at 6am like old women

daniel ricciardo It's important news!

max verstappen No it's not. Stark will be in F1 for a few years maximum and then leave again. It will pass

daniel ricciardo @/lewis hamilton you here? Don't you have anything else to add??

Fine, I'll guess I just ask the rest of the grid, you fucking bore.

daniel ricciardo @/everyone wakey wakey, it's time to wake up and talk!

mick schumacher Daniel? What's up?

george russell Ignore him. He has been annoying us because Tony Stark is coming to F1 and no one really cares. charles leclerc Lies and slander! I care!! lando norris yeah! me as well, idk what you're yapping abt

carlos sainz It's bullshit.

arthur leclerc Why do I have a bad feeling about Monaco...

ollie bearman THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN THINKING bianca bustamante It will be something for sure

lance stroll Well, I'm just happy to see another friendly face at the paddock :)

carlos sainz Of course you know Stark.

lance stroll You're just jealous esteban ocon As am I??? I'm your best friend AND MY BEST FRIEND HAS THE POTENTIAL OF KNOWING SPIDER-MAN???? AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME???????

daniel ricciardo I want everyone who knows anything related to Stark to immediately share with us because Lewis is ignoring me and I need to know. The only info we have right now, is that Stark will make a F1 team and that's it. I refuse to believe that's it. So, @/mick schumacher @/lance stroll spill the beans.

mick schumacher He didn't say anything last time I saw him, so I can't help you much.

lance stroll I know nothing, ask my dad.

daniel ricciardo I don't believe you.

pato o'ward If they say they don't know anything, then they don't? I don't know what's the problem, just wait for the next press release

max verstappen Do you even know Daniel. He's unable to wait for gossip. And he classifies this as gossip

daniel ricciardo Gee, thanks, feeling the love here

nico hülkenberg I wake up to 100+ notifications, why are you all like this?

kevin magnussen They're all idiots.

kevin magnussen @/tony stark could you please speed up with the press release? Daniel is setting all grid chats on fire and it's not funny anymore.

y/n stark ha, weak ass bitch kevin magnussen Watch your mouth missy

tony stark Should I tag Seb in a Tweet to announce it?

peter stark do it y/n stark do it harley stark do it

pepper potts-stark Don't do it. We will proceed with the plan. No matter how annoying the people in your private life are.

kevin magnussen Yes, ma'am, sorry for asking.

sebastian vettel I deserve more than a Tweet at 10am.

y/n stark speak your truth king peter stark sorry for suggesting otherwise (@/yn stark stop being such an attention seeker, we all know seb loves charles the most) y/n stark but charles is not here rn is he?

daniel ricciardo @/kevin magnussen EXPLAIN YOURSELF?!

carlos sainz What is going on now...

charles leclerc KMAG FOR STARK???? I didn't put this on my bingo card, now I lost 100 bucks. Fuck you Kevin

arthur leclerc Pay up bitch

oscar piastri Well done, man

nico hülkenberg And so he leaves he burning, ever sinking ship... the true hero- sorry, I meant coward

daniel ricciardo @/kevin magnussen I KNOW YOU'RE ONLINE YOU COWARD, COME HERE

I just want to talk to you

kevin magnussen No.

*kevin magnussen has left the chat*

fernando alonso There is your answer

several people are typing...

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ARKHAM MAID 2024

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 scenario #f1 x female reader #f1 female driver #fem!driver #female driver #kevin magnussen x reader #tony stark x reader #peter parker x reader #harley keener x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #f1 imagine #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ lightning on track

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salaciousdoll · 2 years

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"I Want That Hoe, She A Freak Hoe"

♡ ྀ =͟͟͞♡ The Gang Wants To Fuck Shion’s Slut of a girlfriend

Pairings ♡ ྀ =͟͟͞♡ : Kantou Manji Gang x Bimbo! Fem reader

Warnings ♡ ྀ =͟͟͞♡: Smut, exhibition, voyeurism, gangbang, spitting in mouth and other areas, chubby reader hints, doggy style, mating press, fucking in vehicles and other places, alternative Timeskip where kmg is two years in, unprotected and protected sex involved, cheater reader, double penetration, tit job, rough fucking, passionate fucking, breeding, small daddy kink on Koko’s part, Shion is a himbo to your Bimbo,overall nasty shit really

Word Count ♡ ྀ =͟͟͞♡: 3.0k

18+ Allowed

( so mad I can’t put my taglist opportunity no more so if you want to join to say it and it’s my first HC too so heads up!)

jjK Version Aot Version

⋆.ೃ࿔* Shion: Before the meeting, on the table

“ Is it- Mmgh fuck- okay to be doing this in here? Shion we could get caught.”, You moaned as you held him around the neck tightly while rocking your hips back and forth. His long pale fingers were digging into the plush of your ass under the fabric of your skirt you gladly wore for him, he hissed when you squeezed around his cock, “ Yeah, baby, I promise. It’s only you and me here at the headquarters to-aah do that againnn- day.”

He couldn’t even finish the sentence because you were bouncing your ass up and down while sucking on his long tattooed neck. You spoke too soon when someone clears their throat, “ Gotta say Shion, I always knew she was gorgeous, why don’t you share her with me? With us? Hmm.”

You froze but it didn’t last for long because of shion twirling his hips while digging into you like a caveman who haven’t had pussy in forever. His moans were louder now and you knew he was close so you milked him in the best way possible. You couldn’t stop fucking him as you yanked on his mullet. You didn’t care who was watching and who heard you.

⋆.ೃ࿔* Ran and Wakasa: In Wakasa’s studio

Wakasa was the first person who was willing to fuck you. Shion never said it was okay but he knew you couldn’t resist him as he was digging into your pussy while his arms hooked around your neck, “ Augh! Shit, this pussy is heaven, see why he didn’t want to share.” Ran wasn’t supposed to stumble upon you two but he had to be the one to give Wakasa info about the new business they’re heading into. When he did, he couldn’t resist fucking your mouth. That was the second thing he admired if your eyes weren’t included as the first, “ The fact that you probably kiss him on the lips is enough to make me cum inside of your wet mouth, leave an impression while you’re making out with him, yeah?”

Wakasa felt every bump of Ran’s cock inside of your throat as he choked you while fucking you from behind. He missed the feeling of pussy, haven’t had any in three days, so when you sucked him in with your walls, he couldn’t help but to stagger in his movement a bit. The little shakes and pumping of his cock inside you tells you everything you need to know. He was about to cum for sure. You made them weak and they wanted to make you weaker so they fucked into you even harder. You screams were muffled by Ran’s cock but their groans and whimpers were not. They had to take you away from him and either keep you for themselves or possibly share even if they didn’t like each other like that.

Ran heard the gulps, gags, and globs of spit lathering up his dick and couldn’t take the feeling of your mouth around him. Waka and Ran was an unexpected duo but both pairs of Lilac eyes were on you as they thrusted three or four times before yelling out your name while cumming inside the condom Waka had on and your mouth. Pants and exhaustion could be heard around the room before a quiet, “ let’s do it again” could be heard

⋆.ೃ࿔* Sanzu: In the HQ Garage

“ Sanzu please don’t make us, Uumph, fall.”, You moaned as Sanzu pulled your body towards him while his knees were denting the roof of the car he has no use for since he got a new one. You two were in the kantou Manji headquarters garage all because he wanted to show you his new car, only to fuck you on the roof of his old black car.

Sanzu choked out a moan as he lifted your ass to grab tightly into his hands. Your plump ass was in between his fingers as he fucked into you. His cock was reaching places you never thought were there. It was breathtaking even if you fucked waka and ran just two days ago. Sanzu’s cock dragged along your gummy walls in desperation and he loved every second of it, “ Fuck, your pussy is squeezing me so tightly, and don’t worry, I got you baby doll.”

You were trying to be quiet as he started pounding you into the roof of the car. The mating position was going so well that you were forgetting who your boyfriend is. You couldn’t help it the way Sanzu’s big balls slapped against the opening of your ass. His breath was ragged and you were panting and covering your mouth from trying not to scream.

Your orgasm hit like a tsunami causing your body to shake while your legs wrapped tightly around Sanzu’s waist. You were pretty sure that the car roof had a huge dent in it but when you looked out the side of your eyes at Sanzu, you figured he wouldn’t care. He was going to make you his because the way your pussy clamped down on him was enough to send him into a spiral and made him dumb enough to not realize he came inside of your pussy. He was pussy drunk and you could tell because of his eyes rolling back to his head in pure bliss as he came.

⋆.ೃ࿔* Koko and Hanma: In your room

This only happened because you wanted to be the Bimbo slut you were always meant to be. You only invited Koko over, but Hanma came too and now you are stuck in between them as they pounded inside of you with faint breaths over your lips and the nape of your neck. Your long nails raked down Hanma’s back as he pounded into you from the front while Koko was pounding your prepped ass from below you.

Your facial expressions were turning Hanma on even more because, God! , were you the prettiest girl he ever seen. Shion was fucking lucky to have a woman like you but were you lucky to have someone like shion?, “ Oh come on, butterfly, you can’t make me cum, we just got started so stop clenching me so hard, yeah?” Koko was whimpering into your back because he was at a loss of words. He has wanted you ever since Shion introduced you after two weeks of starting KMG. It’s now two years later and Koko wanted you for himself, just thinking about it made him thrust inside of your sloppy, puckering ass, “ S-shit, baby, I’m about to cum, you want me to cum deep inside this slutty ass hmm?”

You nodded as a strangled moan erupted from you while the sound of skin clapping and bed bbanging against the wall creating little cracks were heard, “ Mmhmm, fuck come inside of my ass, daddy. I want it so bad.” Hanma chuckled before holding his ‘punishment’ hand on the back of your head forcing your forehead on his while his ‘sin’ tattooed hand reached down to play with your clit, adding on to your upcoming orgasm. All three of your bodies shook as the three of you orgasmed at the same time. Hanma couldn’t help but to shut out your moans with a hungry kiss on your mouth while Koko bit into your back to suppress his moans, they both wanted to cum inside of you, but only one got the chance.

⋆.ೃ࿔* Kakucho: In your closet

Shion was in the bathroom down the hall showering. He still has no clue that you’ve been fucking his crew and you were glad. Although part of the reason is because he’s a Himbo to your Bimbo but you were a little bit smarter than him. The proof was in the pudding when Kakucho was now sliding your panties off with his teeth from behind as you sundress was hiked above your hips/ love handles, “ Fuck, are you sure he isn’t gonna come out the bathroom.” You nodded as you looked at him through the mirror on your closet door.

You were glad, shion put some money on you knocking down your walls to have a big walk in closet because man was that a blessing especially for shit like this, “ Yeah, he usually don’t, mmph, come in here to get dressed and plus he spends about an hour in the bathroom because of him taking care of his hair, oh that feels so good.” Kakucho smirked because he was only peppering you with wet kisses all around your legs and even your lower back. He then chuckled before standing up only to position you to look at the mirror while bending over, “ good because your pussy is fucking soaking and I need to be inside of it because from what the guys tell me, I’m sure to be satisfied by the end right?”

You smirked at him through the big mirror, only to stop when you heard his pants drop and felt his cock slap your inner thigh. You couldn’t even get words out as you were stunned due to the three taps of his fat head landing on the opening of your slit. When he pushed inside of you after reassuring you that he’s going to be careful, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He was the biggest and thickest so far and you didn’t think you could handle it. You were glad shion just had length compared to this monster of a cock inside of you.

Kakucho's deep throaty moan interrupted your thoughts, “ Oh! Yeah! This pussy is crying for me. F- F-Fuck.” The way he held your hips/love handles was enough to make you purr in excitement. He was so gentle when holding you but fucked and looked like a Greek god. Kakucho thrusted inside of you at a slow pace before lifting you up a little by your neck, “ Keep your eyes locked on mine as I fuck you like you should’ve been fucked by the man who occupy the bathroom down the hall, it’s obvious he’s not satisfying you because otherwise you wouldn’t be slutting yourself out to the men in the gang, yeah?” You were about to deny but his hips met your ass creating nonstop ripples as he fucked into you faster than before.

You tried to keep focus on his heterochromia eyes as he fucked your pussy like a brute, “ K-Kakucho I don’t think I could hold on, nngh! It hurts but feels so good.” He smirked because he knew he was making you feel good so he cooked up his pace not even carin gif shion catches you two since the room was filled with slaps, moans, and groans. “ Come on, pretty girl, don’t hold out on me, make me cum like you did the others and I want to hear it. Loud and clear. I want to feel you shake and fight to get away from me as I fuck you through your orgasm, let me fuck you like your mine, what do you say, hmm?”

⋆.ೃ࿔* Mochi and Benkei: in the hideout

The sound of your gags on Benkei's cock and hand stroking Mochi’s cock were heard throughout the empty area you three were occupied in. You accepted that you were a slut and couldn’t stop fucking everyone. This was now two different people and four days from when Kakucho fucked you into overstimulation. Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt a soft slap on your cheek from one hand and the second hand gripping your hair, “ Suck me right, y/n, I know you can do it so why are you playing on my dick right now?”

You laughed and that just pissed him off more so he decided to get you even more messy by taking his cock out off your tongue since you needed space to laugh and rubbed his dick all over your face, “ Now who’s laughing, slut. Suck me in with those glossy puckered lips will ya?” Benkei was one impatient fucker but you somehow admired it because it looked good on him meanwhile Mochi was shuddering at the feeling of your hands stroking him up and down, “ Shit, she’s good at what she does, so cut her some slack old fuck.” Benkei wanted to punch Mochi when he called him old but stopped when he felt your mouth taking his dick down your throat like a popsicle on a hot summer evening, “ Fuck! Yeah just like that, I want to fuck your mouth, fuck it, I’m gonna fuck your mouth like a pocket pussy now, are you ready?” You nodded through your long eyelashes as you had his dick inside of your mouth.

Benkei took off his jacket after you took his dick out of your mouth to wrap your lips around Mochi’s tip, sucking on him, making him cum inside of your mouth immediately. His moans and deep groans were so sexy to your ears and his cum tasted like salt but it was good inside of your mouth. You only knew he was close due to the redness of his round thick tip. You sucked him in even more before releasing him out of your mouth, kissing the tip of his cock afterwards with a wink to top it off. Mochi flushed a shade of red because you were just so beautiful on your knees, he just had to get you to open up your mouth by raising his Sharp eyebrows and tapping your cheek just to spit inside of your mouth.

Benkei snatched you by your hair and you gladly opened your mouth with your tongue out. He took that as an opportunity to lodge his long cock in your throat creating throat bulges as he fucked into your throat while you now was getting fingered by Mochi after he removed your own fingers. His happy trail was the only thing you could see and that excited you even more considering that it was trimmed down too. You were on cloud nine and they were, too. None of you saw the shadow in the corner watching you all, neither did y’all care.

⋆.ೃ࿔* Mikey: On his motorcycle

You and Mikey enever supposed to end up like this considering that you were scared to talk or even look at him. His eyes had a forbidden glint that made you freeze up every time you looked at him.

You were outside having a blunt to yourself thinking about how to break things off with Shion. You were only brought out of your thoughts when Mikey started up his bike in front of the hq garage. You gotta admit that he looked good as a 20 year old that’s successful as hell in the illegal business you wanted no part in. Shion told you about the war that caused him to be on the dark side and honestly you thought he just needed a good lay and somebody to vent to. Your eyes were fixated on him that you didn’t even realize you were walking to him. It was like you’re in a trance, “ Nice bike you got there.”

Mikey never heard you talk to him and he froze before turning to you with the dead look you feared, “ Thank you, wanna hop on?” To say you were surprised at the offer was an understatement but what was a bigger understatement was moving your hips back and forth with his thick, slightly curved cock inside of you. Mikey gripped your hips in want and need as you rode him with the vibrations of his motorcycle underneath you both. You both didn’t care that you were fucking in public or if shion would see.

“ Fuck Princess, you feel irreplaceable, ugh! I wanna make you mine so bad. Your fucking pouted lips, short skirts, dresses, and tight fitted suits always trigger me to fuck my fist thinking about you.”, Mikey moans as he holds your body close to him before he starts digging into you faster. You were surprised that somebody as little as him was able to move underneath you but nevertheless your moans were hidden inside of his neck while your nails raked down his shoulders and back. You two were enjoying each other more than you should have and didn't realize you two were cumming until your bodies shook against each other as your moans were beginning to muffle because you were too busy sloppy kissing each other

Mikey was glad that he managed to fuck somebody like you because he was never letting you go and he’ll gladly kill Shion if he ever think about taking you away from him. You were apart of him now since you let cum inside of your sweet pussy.

⋆.ೃ࿔* All of them: On the bed

When you wanted to break up with Shion because you broke promises, he wouldn’t let you. He wanted you to be his and if that meant sharing you with his gang so be it. You didn’t want to hurt him even more but he insisted because now he was pounding inside of your cunt while Sanzu was pounding into your ass. You couldn’t even moan because Wakasa was fucking into your mouth as your hands were getting fucked into by Rindou and Ran’s cocks.

“ Fuck, your pussy is swallowing my dick up baby, my girl felt good huh?”, Shion moans as he digs into your pussy. His dick was gliding along your walls like it belonged there, this is the best he ever fucked and you knew it was because he had competition now.

Moans and groans were heard around the room and the encourages of yes and slaps on the back by his peers was enough for him to fuck you like the mad dog he’s labeled as. Mochi couldn’t take anymore and fucked his hand to your moans and screams. He couldn’t wait to be inside you just like Mikey who was pushing your tiddies together to fuck them with his spit coaxed as lube.

“ Shit, this bitch is a fucking saint, Pussy like this, I wouldn’t let go either.” You couldn’t tell who said it but you had a few guesses considering the bass in his voice as he said it.

Your body went through trauma and overstimulation. The amount of cum you ingested and took inside of your body was enough to make you pass out. You felt so full and disgusting but it felt so good. You were still humiliated when you heard men laughing around the room. You were their whore now and it was indefinitely.

Taglist : @dejwrites @simpingforwakasa04 @happygoluckyalexis @nalyana @bontens-angel @bontensbabygirl @cryingchild83 @yooniluvbot444 @forwardpair @celi-xxmoon @cloudnitee @Marley @ushijimasslut @Little_nightowl

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wolfy1298 · 10 months

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Don’t you ever wonder what kind of secrets and plot points Venti keeps hidden? He claims to be the weakest amongst the Seven-and that could be true given his whole 500 year slumber and poison and all- but he’s still a god. AND one of the original Seven. You gotta be good at SOMETHING to survive for this long…

He’s also the only archon so far that doesn’t have a second story quest so what is he hiding?! We have accounts of him literally shaping the land with ease from both the Golden Apple Archipelago events and his character stories. We know that he has close relationships with the Hexenzirkel and somehow managed to avoid conflict with them??? And there’s also the fact from the skyward sword series that he was originally a catalyst user before picking up the bow in honor of Amos. He’s pulling a Childe when it comes to weapons he currently uses and the ones he’s proficient in.

And don’t even get me started on his connection with Istharoth and Celestia! Mondstadt already has the Thousands Winds Temple AND the nameless island where both Venti and Istharoth were once worshipped. And from Before Sun and Moon, we know that the Thousand Winds (which Venti IS A PART OF) were once called the Thousand Winds of TIME, all of whom were created and controlled by Istharoth. AND THEN you have Venti suspiciously appearing in the right place at the right time again and again and again. He even self proclaimed knowing every song: past, present, and future. Hell he’s probably one of the only few beings in Teyvat who can naturally bypass Irminsul because of his songs: Nahida already shown it’s possible to save deleted info if rearranged into fiction so the same should work for songs and poetry. And there’s also what the hydro fungus in Nahida’s second story quest said about changing forms. That you need time for growth to occur. And Nahida - an ARCHON- had trouble maintaining her fungus form for even the short period of time. She was even told that to do so for longer, one would need to bypass time itself which is near impossible. AND YET VENTI CHANGED INTO THE FORM OF HIS FRIEND IMMEDIATELY AFTER RECEIVING HIS GNOSIS AND HAS YET TO CHANGE BACK OR TIRE FROM FATIGUE (as we know it). HOW STRONG IS HE. Sure, the yokai in Inazuma and Adepti in Liyue can all change into a human form, but we know in game that it takes a long time and steady energy to take on a human shape, and the Adepti all seem to have that ability naturally: there’s no bending the laws of nature if it’s already natural to them. So what’s Venti’s excuse?!

As for Celestia: there’s already written in the statue of Barbatos “the gateway to Celestia” and what not. And Khanreia! In the chasm AND in the Caribert quest, Barbatos and Mondstadt keep getting named dropped. According to Dainself, the city in the chasm is supposedly OLDER than Khanreia and possibly the Seven, yet BARBATOS of all beings is mentioned in the records you find??? And in Caribert, it’s a Mondstadtian woman who that one bloke had a child with. Never mind that Mondstadt is where Kaeya and Albedo - the two characters with confirmed Khanreian origins- end up! There’s also the fact that Khanreia seems to base its gods and names and whatever around Norse mythology….which has strong ties to GERMANIC HISTORY. WHICH MONDSTADT IS BASED OFF OF. And Enkanomiya, which was once ruled by Istaroth, is Greek origin. Suspicious considering all the connections to HERMES Venti keeps portraying. (And then there’s also a connection to all three places with the hexenzerkel with their Chinese names? Like I think I read somewhere that Alice is Aries(?)/Eris(?) and Nicole is actually Nike in the Chinese version? Which are very much based in Roman/Greek origins)

Oh and something I forgot to mention earlier with the whole Istharoth connection. Mondstadt’s saying “seeds of stories, brought by the wind, and cultivated through time”. SUSPICIOUS

Anyways, this has been my nonsensical Venti theory rant

And you’re stuck with me @worldsokayestmagicalgirl

#theory rant #seriously this is me typing whatever comes to mind #I have questions and Mihoyo needs to give me answers #this isn’t even everything #mutual lore rant kidnapping #Alyssa and I take turns with the conspiracy boards #genshin impact

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

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AITA for outing my father at his old job?

I (M22) recently got a job hauling hazmat across the US in a semi. I had to take tests to not only receive my CDL, but to know what to do in case of an emergency when hauling things like explosives, flammables, corrosives, etc. The hazardous material part of the test was done on computer on site, however if you fail they let you log in and try again from home. But I passed that part right away because I already knew everything that would be on the test.

My father (M53) worked the same job for the same company and when I was in middle and high school, and pressured me into taking the hazardous material test for him so he could get the job. His reasoning was he had been out of school for so long he wasn't good at studying for tests, but I was used to it. Plus he was dyslexic and ADHD (both true), and he would probably fail the test no matter how many times he tried it because he couldn't read well or pay attention. I said it was probably important for him to know this stuff since it IS hazardous material, but he said he DID know everything he needed to, he was just bad at tests. And that if I didn't take it for him he would fail, and then he would be unemployed, and then we would be out on the street and it would be my fault. So I studied his hazardous materials booklet front to back and took the test for him and he passed.

It didn't stop there, though. With this job you're also required to take refresher safety courses online every week, and you can't get your next assignment till you pass. He used the same argument to get me to take those tests for him every week as well, until I knew everything about the placards and hazmat and road safety etc better than he did.

The trainer (M49) I was assigned was friends with my dad when he worked here, and said something like "If you're as quick a study as your dad then you'll be our best driver," and I said something like "I've been your best driver for almost a decade, you just didn't know it." He asked what I meant and I told him how I was the one taking those safety tests for my dad every week until he quit 3 years ago, and actually he quit because I was moving out and I said no to coming over to his house every week to keep taking the test for him.

I told the trainer because A) I thought it didn't matter because my dad didn't work there anymore, and B) Honestly? I've never really gotten along with my dad, and some part of me wanted to tell on him for one of the many things he pressured me into doing as a kid. I expected to make him lose a friend, maybe tarnish his "perfect" reputation a little bit, but it's gotten a lot bigger than that.

My dad doesn't work with hazmat anymore, but he did have a job delivering food to nearby grocery stores that he apparently lost because that trainer called and told his boss what I told him, and my dad called me and cussed me out and said because of me he probably would lose his CDL and not be able to be a truck driver anymore, and that's all he knows. He's not exactly rich, either, so he's probably just a couple missed paychecks away from being in serious trouble, and he also lost his health insurance. I for sure didn't mean for it to go this far. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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moonrisecoeur · 3 months

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compliance (how to brainwash your boyfriend) — leon kennedy

author’s note: this was written with re4r!leon in mind bc that’s my boyfriend! angel said so!! i have… so many hypno ideas, some considerably more palatable and some that are Much Worse, so pls let me know if you want more! also this is based off of an audio i listened to once by everdistant-utopia on reddit! the headset concept is kind of (extremely) goofy but i was into it idk. again, i'm aware that mind control isn't real and this is a silly ass concept. i had fun doing it anyway. no leons were hurt in the making of this fic. sorry for not posting it sooner even tho it was done i was extremely embarrassed lol. pls ignore any typos. love you!! thank u!!

wc: 5k

content: sub!leon x fem!reader, afab reader, oral reader receiving, orgasm control, mention of feet for like two seconds

warning: this is dark content. please do not read if the following topics are sensitive to you: noncon, hypnosis, mind control. i dont endorse or encourage this type of behavior irl, its just a fantasy!

—

as you walk down the street, you walk by a flier that’s sitting on the sidewalk. you don’t stop to read it, but one word caught your eye. mind control. it was probably something stupid, something completely made up by some lunatic who thinks mind control is real. mind control is maybe, technically real, in the ‘just relax and close your eyes, breathe deeply and let yourself be at peace’ kind of way. definitely not the ‘put on this headset and let me rewire your brain to make you my pet’ kind of way.

but… would it really hurt to look at the flier? you turn around to see it’s still there, and, against all your better judgment, you decide to walk up to it and pick it up.

it’s dirty, wet because of the rain from last night. even still, you can read the description of the advertised product clearly, along with some more info like a website and contact info for the designers. you take a brief moment to wonder who in the hell comes up with that stuff.

introducing you to the ultra brainwasher headset 3000! perfect for all of your mind control needs! simply place the device over the subjected head and choose what you’d like to do with them. need an obedient housewife? in search of a new pet? want them to be madly in love and obsessed with you? all of that and more is possible with the ultra brainwasher headset 3000! visit our website and order the headset today!

you blink. this is insane. who would do this? who would make this? why would anyone want to make someone do any of this against their will? you feel sick to your stomach as you crumple up the flier and toss it in the nearest trash can.

because that’s… that’s not consensual. that’s wrong in every possible way. unless they gave consent to be, what, turned into an ‘obedient housewife’? that’s really what it said? there’s just no way that’s right. how is that legal to sell? what even was that flier doing?

this feels like the kind of thing that would be sold on the black market, not openly advertised to people on the street. what if some lunatic saw it and just started brainwashing people? no one could stop them, it’s not exactly a crime in and of itself, and any crimes committed would be a little difficult to report if the ‘subject’ was too mindless to notice or to say anything.

whatever. you threw the flier away, you did your job as a good samaritan by tossing it so someone much much worse than you wouldn’t get a chance to look at it, and thus, you can forget all about the headset. pretend you never saw the flier or knew it existed and carry on with your life.

except, you can’t really. it permeates your thoughts, seeps inside of your subconscious until you begin to hypothesize that the headset wasn’t the real hypnosis, it was seeing that flier. you know you must be delusional. it’s not real, you’re not really mind controlled from just reading the flier, but… would it really hurt it buy it? you had the money for it and it’s not too expensive at all.

you hate yourself for it but you look on the website, just as hypnotic as the flier was, and you see multiple variations of the headset. some more suited towards different outcomes for ‘subjects’ and some just different stylistically.

you find the one you were looking at earlier. the ultra brainwasher 3000. it’s a stupid name, you’re aware. it just doesn’t really matter because who’s gonna know that you own this? you’ll keep it, maybe try it out on yourself to see what it’s like. you won’t do anything crazy, maybe like, hypnotize yourself to not be able to sit down until all your household chores are done, just for the day. the ultra brainwasher 3000 claims to have this functionality, and you’re… more or less, curious.

you order it and spend two weeks in absolute hell, making sure your boyfriend is never home alone when the package could arrive. you’re not worried he’d open it and see the device. he doesn’t look through your stuff, but the packing sticker ‘brainmelting industrial company’ would…. catch his eye for sure. try explaining that to your boyfriend, especially because even if you’re a good liar, you’re not to leon.

but, you get it, and it’s perfect because leon isn’t home right now, and you get to play with your new toy for a little bit. the box is smaller than you expected, only including the headset, a charging cord, and a set of instructions.

as you’re reading, the thought only just now hits you. it’s surprising that it’s taken you this long to have this idea, given how it would be someone else’s first instinct.

“should i…” you murmur to yourself, looking around nervously to see if anyone is in earshot, “… should i use this on leon..?”

i don’t know, should you use a mind control headset on your poor boyfriend that was just sent on a mission to save the fucking president’s daughter? maybe not.

you don’t know how it took you this long to come up with the concept. i mean, the flier did mention making someone your obedient housewife, but… they never said that someone had to be a girl…

it’s gross or actually more disgusting, honestly, how excited you get at the prospect of doing this to leon, but you decide that yeah, fuck it, you might as well brainwash your boyfriend. truthfully, what are the consequences? besides… ruining your relationship, betraying his trust, destroying him as a person… eh, it’s only temporary, right? there’s ways to make it only temporary.. and there’s no way he’d remember..

you fiddle with it, curious of all the different things you could do to him. the headset didn’t have presets, you could make up literally anything you wanted him to believe. you could make him the obedient housewife, but you could also make him a servant, maybe even dress him up all pretty as a maid. you could make sure of his loyalty and commitment, make him be so in love with you that even the thought of being with another woman makes him physically ill.

he gets home later that night, worn down and tired and exhausted in every possible way. and you know you’re going to have to put on your best acting skills. you’re not sure if you’re ready to do this, but you’re gonna have to be, so you press a sweet kiss to his lips, one he lingers on for just a moment too long. his lips chase after yours as his eyes open back up slowly, looking at you through his pretty lashes, an eyebrow raised, “what?”

you can’t help but adore him, his bluntness and gruff attitude, yet how soft he touches your waist as he pulls you closer. leon is nothing if not gentle and sweet, and you love that about him, “nothing, i just… i just wanted to look at you,” you say, and it reminds you just how easy leon is. just a couple of words and his eyes get a little glassy, his heart leaping out of his chest just a bit.

it sometimes helps that your boyfriend has been through every form of hell since that day in raccoon city, so sometimes just sweet words and little gestures get a bigger reaction than you’d expect. he’s traumatized and broken down, so the love you give him matters so much more.

in short, he’s easy. he gives in quickly and doesn’t like to fight, not with you. gives you everything you want, doesn’t protest, doesn’t ask for much besides your attention and love.

“you always stare at me,” he says awkwardly. god he’s so not charming that it makes him effortlessly likable.

that’s what’s so sucky about the idea of hypnosis. do you lose the person he used to be? sure, a mindless househusband would be great, helplessly obedient and passive and hardworking, but does this override his actual personality? that’s a bit too scary.

you make an effort to soak in these parts of his personality, enjoying every inch of his pretty little mind. you decide that no matter what you do to him, you can’t ruin him completely. you’d miss his heart, rough and guarded but nonetheless yours.

“i wanna try something,” you murmur to him, your heart pounding a little more than it should, “do you trust me?”

“of course i do,” he says. your heart almost aches, he trusts you so implicitly.

“close your eyes,” you say, and he complies easily.

you step away to grab the headset, and he’s so sweet and good that he doesn’t even peek. you take a deep breath, and commit to it.

you place it on his head, and he grumbles, but doesn’t object. poor thing. doesn’t even realize what’s happening to him.

—

the setting on the headset that you chose wasn’t anything flashy but it was labeled ‘semi-permanent’ and it stated that the subject would not remember anything from the moment of hypnosis to the moment they wake up next. so, all and all, even if you felt horrible, the damage wouldn’t be permanent, and leon wouldn’t even remember what happened.

truthfully, it felt like nothing could go wrong. it wouldn’t alter him too much, just… make him helplessly obedient for a couple hours. you could turn up the intensity if you wanted to, if it wasn’t quite enough to satisfy your curiosity.

you decide that it’s now or never, especially since being lost in your head while your boyfriend is cluelessly wearing what looks like a vr headset is kind of… odd.

you start the application, waiting for it to begin on his end.

“what are you up to?” he asks innocently, probably still not seeing anything while it loads. the question sounds like an accusation, but it’s really not. leon genuinely just wants to know what’s going on. it’s hard not to, but you don’t answer.

you notice the exact moment that it starts because grunts out of nowhere and his whole body tenses, and he clutches onto the fabric of the couch cushions, using that sense as a way to ground himself during an overload of audio and visual stimulation.

you reach to grab his hand, and his grasps yours tightly, desperately, as if physically pleading with you to make it stop.

you whisper to him, “shhh, nice and easy,” you’re not even sure if he can hear you, but you still feel the need to speak. you’re not sure if it’s your voice or your touch but he relaxes just slightly, his breath raggedy and tense. he’s trying like hell to keep himself together, but it’s so overwhelming that it’s hard for him to think, “hey… it’s okay. you’re okay, just… let it happen.”

a pathetic little whimper escapes his throat as his body goes slack, jaw hanging open and arms hanging limply by his sides, “wha… why?” his voice sounds small, weak, and if you weren’t so cruel, you’d immediately take it all back and apologize and just face the consequences.

but you’re too far deep to back out now, even if leon’s pitiful demeanor is almost swaying you to stop, you know you can’t. not now.

“i… i thought you…” he whines, body tensing and spasming as he tries to put some form of coherent thought together, “wha… why..?” he whimpers again, pathetically broken down in just a matter of minutes.

you sit there with him, holding his hand, waiting for the process to be done, and once it is, you take the headset off.

he seems agitated, but doesn’t seem to know what at. his muscles are tense, but he doesn’t make any sudden movements.

“hey,” you mutter gently, and he almost flinches at the sound, looking at you with those wide deer eyes again, scared. you reach out to touch his face, fingers caressing his cheek.

the cogs in his brain turn as he processes what’s happening, and the agitation seems to evaporate and become replaced by a sense of calm and relaxation. he looks into your eyes, and it seems like he’s deciding something.

“leon?”

“yes? how… can i serve you?” he asks, jaw dropping at his own words. he’s so stunned at what he’s saying and how he’s acting yet he can’t help it.

“…address me as… ma’am,” you say, and he shivers, eyes closing tensely as he tries to figure out what the hell is going on, “and go get me something. how about… a cup of coffee? yeah, let’s start there.”

it makes sense that he’s fading in and out, the programming would probably need more time to settle in before it was done and his personality obviously wouldn’t just disappear, but it was still a little bit heartbreaking to watch him fight the voice in his head that is desperate to obey you.

as he disappears into the kitchen, you sit where he was sitting on the couch to take a moment to think it all over.

leon has never been the most… dominant man. he has his moments of aggression and tension that turn into a roughness that his soul seems to often carry, but it’s never controlling. he’s not demanding, he asks nothing of you besides gracing him with your presence.

but due to his past, submission also doesn’t come easy to him. he likes to think he would lean more sub, just because he’s so malleable to your will, so easy to convince. anything you want is yours, and if you want his dignity laid out in the palm of your hand, then it’s yours to keep for eternity. he just struggles to fully give up control, especially since you know he’s not really had much of that in his life.

you kept his personality intact for the most part, but… he just seems so different. he responds pretty much the same, talks the same, acts the same. something just doesn’t seem right.

“here’s the coffee you asked for,” he mutters when he returns, his voice gruff but soft at the same time. he’s… definitely conflicted. the implanted urge to obey you mindlessly and the natural urge to protect his self-respect are fighting in his head. you watch curiously to see which will win.

leon has been through hell, and you can always see it when you look into his eyes. he’s been controlled by the government, a puppet on their strings, since he survived that night in raccoon city. he must be used to a lack of control in his life. but now he’s your puppet, and you have no interest in using him as a killing machine. you have… different plans for him.

“thanks,” you whisper, and he nods, quiet but obedient. just how you wanted him. he stands there beside you, not really knowing what to do with himself as you take a sip, “rub my feet now.”

“..what?”

“you heard me,” you say. and he did.

something in his stomach sinks at the command, a feeling of urgency to do as you say fills his entire being, but it just feels so wrong to him. you’re never this brazen, this demanding.

“come on, leon,” you say, almost condescendingly, pointing to the floor right in front of the couch, “on… your… knees.”

he breathes shakily, but kneels down in front of you, avoiding eye contact as he gives you your damn foot massage. there’s turmoil in his head, easily seen by that deer-like look in his eyes as he stares wide-eyed at the ground. despite his roughness, he’s always had these soft, fragile eyes, reminding you of who he really is. it would be truly heartbreaking to watch him go through this if it also wasn’t incredibly attractive to put him on his knees and order him around.

leon has always been relatively compliant, but now it’s on a whole other level. anything you ask for, despite some inner conflict, he’ll do. you wonder just how far you could push him, but… you don’t decide to test that just yet.

for a few minutes, or however long it takes for you to finish your coffee, you sit there with him. his touch is good but not very skilled. he gets the tension and soreness out though, and you’re sure you could train that into him over time.

“take off your shirt,” you say, and his throws off his t-shirt easily. it lands in the corner unimportantly, and your smirk radiates confidence and something else much more sinister, “stand up, bend over in front of me.”

he closes his eyes tightly, clearly fighting that inner battle but the part of him desperate to get away and to not obey you is losing. he slowly rises to his feet and does as you ask. he places his hands on the coffee table, legs spread slightly like he already knows what’s about to happen. funny, because he doesn’t seem to know much of anything right now.

you stand up, hands touching all over him but particularly grasping at his ass, pulling down his sweatpants and boxers and enjoying the way his muscles flex, tightening and hardening when you grab him, “you never let me spank you,” you muse, almost annoyed, “i get it. you get nervous with power play and letting me dom you or whatever, but i always wanted to hit it just once. just to satisfy the curiosity of what it would be like.”

your hand pulls back and slams against his butt with a loud smacking noise. he gasps, breathing out shakily after the hit, “i… i’m sorry, ma’am.”

“but now that we’re here… and i’ve already got a taste, i don’t think i ever want to stop. so, from now on, no more of that. if i want to slap your ass, i’m going to,” you murmur, “and you will not try to stop me or convince me not to.”

“i.. i…” he whimpers, and for a second you pause, nervously that the real leon, somehow deep down, heard that, “… yes, ma’am.”

“good,” you mutter, slapping it again, feeling the hit in your hand as you pull away, and if you can feel it so clearly then you’re sure he can, “now, be polite and say ‘thank you’. thank me for teaching you how to correctly behave.”

“tha… thank you, ma’am,” he whispers, eyes shutting slowly as his deep inner need to resist is weakening.

“i own you now,” you groan, grasping at his hips posessively, mouth pressing open kisses to his bare shoulder, “no, i… have always owned you. owned your body, you just didn’t realize it.”

he nods, incredibly turned on. his body aches to be claimed, to be made yours.

sure, leon has always been yours, but his body has been purely his. he’s… cautious with it. he’s been more or less just too busy for romantic partners, but somehow you snuck your way into his life and he happily lets you stay. he just… is slowly learning to trust you with himself.

he can do easy, comfortable, casual sex. what he can’t do is hand himself over to you like this, helplessly obedient, submissive in every possible way. as much as leon doesn’t have the energy to fight, tired and worn down, fighting is all he know.

your nails drag against the skin of his torso and back, leaving pretty red lines wherever they go, “no more fighting. no more stressing about it. all you have to do is be mine, unequivocally.”

“i… i am..” he mumbles, and you tilt your head, eyeing him curiously. he notices, shying away, “i… i am yours. unequivocally. you can… you can have me.”

manhandling has always been a little difficult, considering leon is all muscle and he’s a sturdy guy, but you spin him at the hips to face you, and he’s effortlessly moved, “can i… have your body just as much as i have your heart?”

“yes, i… yes, ma’am, it’s yours. do whatever you want with it, ma’am,” he says, a slight daze in his eyes, clearly he’s not all the way there. he's trying. he’s still so soft, so tender and malleable, so leon.

you lean in to press a kiss to his lips, and he melts into your touch, hands grasping him roughly, in a way that might hurt anyone else, but leon is strong. sure, your touch is bruising him, but… he doesn’t have enough

of his mind left to be bothered.

lips trail down his neck and shoulder, but move back up to his ear, sucking on his skin in a vampiric manner. you whisper to him, “you’re gonna only focus on my pleasure.”

“i… i am? i… i am…” he stutters, god it’s so damn cute.

“of course you are. you’d rather eat me out than have an orgasm yourself, wouldn’t you? if i was a crueler person, i would find a way to mind control your orgasms away completely. that way you could… focus on my pleasure, but i’m not that mean.”

he shudders, your lips pressing to the sensitive spot underneath his ear, teeth dragging down his skin, teasing him, taunting him.

“you wanna eat now?” you ask, lips pressed to his collarbone now, and he moans out an affirmative. you suck a hickey against the skin right atop of the bone, admiring the redness, the way you get to watch it turn a disgusting shade of purple. one that should make you nervous to have done to him, only turns you on.

instead of ordering him into his knees this time, you just push him, easily putting his head between your legs. his hands come up to hold your thighs, steadying himself as you half-stand half-sit on the counter. he pulls your pants down enough , but can’t even be bothered to take off your panties, just pushing them to the side.

“can.. i, ma’am?”

you chuckle, not really expecting him to be so polite, “go for it, sweet thing.”

he leans in, pressing a teasing kiss to your clit, just once, before his tongue meets your folds and he licks and sucks like tomorrow won’t come but he’ll make sure you will. he groans into your pussy like he’s the one being pleasured, and that honestly seems like a fair comparison. sure, he was physically pleasing you, but even just the act of giving oral is making his head spin with a satisfaction he has never felt before. he could get high off of this.

leon has always been good at giving head. much better than just good. he’s incredible. it’s the one thing where he can fully just zone out. if you’re too lost in your own pleasure, then you can’t focus on him and how he’s feeling, and there’s something oddly safe about the feeling of being, for all intents and purposes, alone with his thoughts. eating your pussy just comes so natural that it’s second nature.

but now? he can’t get lost in his thoughts if he doesn’t have any. doesn’t mean he’s enjoying it any less. he’s enjoying anything you ask him to do. you could tell him to go fold your laundry and then clean your bathroom and do your dishes and he’s do everything diligently and he’d be satisfied the whole time. god, maybe you do really want a househusband. besides, leon could use the emotional break from his job. he’s content enough serving you.

he makes you cum sooner than you expected, but it’s literally just because he’s that good with his tongue, and when he moved one his hands from your thigh to press two fingers into your cunt, fingering you in thick circular motions as he sucked on your clit, you were gone.

he continues, wet fingers gushing in a fast rhythm as you orgasm, grinding against his mouth, using him completely for your own pleasure. it was always a secret fantasy of his, and now it’s reality, even if his mind isn’t all the way there and the only thoughts running through his head are is she pleased with me? did i do a good job? do i deserve her praise? i should do better next time. i should serve her better. i only want to serve her.

and now that he’s completely helpless, servitude being the only concept he can comprehend, and you come down from a high so intense it took you a second to remember that leon was waiting patiently for your next command, next order.

“put… put me on the couch…” you gasp out in heavy breaths.

he’s strong, and he helps to guide you to the couch, body still part paralyzed from such an intense pleasure. you lay there, still breathing a little heavy.

“go get dressed and cleaned up…” you mutter to him, “and then come back out here and cuddle up next to me.”

he does as you ask, finding his clothes and getting dressed again, and then when he approaches the couch again, you reach out your arms for him. the smile he gives you is almost too real. too… really leon. you still feel that twinge of nervousness in your gut, but then he lays against you, head tucked into the crook of your neck, and you know he doesn’t know. for all that he’s good at, leon’s not a great actor.

you reach your hand up to run your fingers through his hair repeatedly, soft and soothing motions to lull him into a state of compliance.

“you’re mine,” you whisper, hoping he’ll confirm it back.

of course he does, softly, no longer feeling conflicted, “yours, ma’am.”

“you’ll be obedient and submissive from now on,” your voice is soft but carries a dominance he doesn’t quite think he could ever escape nor would he ever want to.

“i’ll be.. obedient and submissive.”

“you’ll only focus on my pleasure,” you say, knowing he’ll repeat it back obediently just like the ones previous, but you feel his rock hard cock against your leg and as much as you want to shove his cock inside of you in an instant, you can’t help but want to control him like that. keep his orgasms just out of reach until he goes mad from the teasing and edging you plan to do to him. keep him nice and horny and desperate, just how you like him. if he wasn’t submissive enough for you before, he is now.

“only yours, only ever yours, please…” his voice is soft and meek and god if you wanted to you could find a mind control that was permanent and just… leave him like this forever. let him take care of your home and future kids and do your household chores and tasks. keep him completely obedient, god it would be…

“you can’t resist,” you whisper, leaning into his hair,

resting your head against his in a soft intimate moment, “i can’t resist, ma’am.”

you nod gently, and after a moment, you sigh, running your fingers through his hair, “i’m.. i love you, leon. sorry about all of this..”

“… why are you apologizing, ma’am?” he asks, tilting his head slightly even in your grasp to show confusion. he really is just like a little puppy sometimes.

“you know.. about the mind control.”

he shrugs, the most unbothered happy smile on his face, “oh, that’s.. that’s okay, i’m fine with it. i.. already belonged to you.”

“but that was in a more… romantic way. an ‘i belong with you’ kind of way. not the kind i did to you,” you say, just a tinge of guilt holding you back, but you push it aside, “it’s nothing, don’t worry about it. i just.. just know i love you. even when i’m ordering you around.”

“i’ll remember that, ma’am,” he smiles up at you just a little softer, just a little more like his true self, just a little more leon. that heavy feeling of guilt in your gut will never quite go away, will it?

you fall asleep on the couch together, knowing or maybe just hoping you’ll wake up to leon not remembering anything. hopefully he doesn’t piece together that he has no memory of you giving him that hickey and those bruises on his hips were definitely not his job's doing.

—

you wake up to a fond smell of breakfast and a bright morning, sitting up off the couch as you look at your phone. leon’s not laying there next to you, which is odd but not completely uncommon. sometimes he goes out in the morning to work out or disappears in the middle of the night when he’s needed somewhere, but most of the time, and today included, he’s just in the kitchen.

you find him there, standing in front of the coffee pot, and you walk up to him to wrap your arms around his midsection, softly burying your face into his back to shyly hide from his gaze.

“awh, morning lovebug,” his sweet raspy morning voice says to you, a hand on your arms, holding you tight so there’s not even a chance you could let go, “missed ya yesterday. did you sleep alright?”

“...mhm,” you hum, pressing a sweet kiss to his shoulder blade.

it’s a sweet moment, full of love and warmth and tenderness and you could have almost forgotten what you did to leon last night had the smell of coffee not been hanging in the air. but hey, at least he doesn’t remember what really happened, though he’s kind of confused just how he forgot how he got all of these bruises and scratches.

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atinylittlepain · 1 month

Text

Little Pinch

nurse!marcus pike x f!reader

she needs to get bloodwork done. one small problem, getting bloodwork done never goes well for her, especially not when she's distracted by the very kind, very handsome nurse doing it.

wordcount | 3.3K

content info | 18+ discussions of getting bloodwork that includes needles, fainting, nausea, mostly fluff, nurse marcus to the rescue, this is just a fun time, also an un-beta'd time so like, be nice pls

a/n | shoutout to the girls (gn) that pass out every time they get blood work done (me). I have to get new labs tomorrow morning, and writing this is how I coped with that prospect :') this one is for the fainters, the thin veiners, the "just do it in my hand"-ers - i see you, i am you, gawd bless

..........................................................................

Here’s the thing, this never goes well. It wasn’t always like this though. She has a vague memory of being a kid and taking it like a perfect champ, testing for mono after a rash of cases at school. But then, well, something changed.

It runs in her family. Thin veins that are hard for even the best nurses to find, lots of oh, I just lost it, and well, let’s try your other arm, and always, ultimately, hands? Should we try the hands? No, the nurses never listen when she tells them to just start with the hands, and without fail, somewhere around the third or fourth time they try to get the needle in, a cold sweat breaks, and the room starts to filter through a fuzzy pinhole of vision. It’s embarrassing, she thinks, because, really, she has no problem with needles. Can watch it go in, no issues with piercings, et cetera, et cetera, but getting blood drawn? Yeah, forget about it. She usually comes to with paperwork around her feet that she had been holding, and a well-meaning nurse pressing a damp paper towel to her forehead and breathing the remnants of her lunch over her face and alright, hon? Usually a box of apple juice and an escort out to her car to make sure she doesn’t go offline again.

The other thing is, unfortunately, she’s pretty sure her little fainting, fading thing has gotten worse over the years. A conditioned response, she thinks, that cold sweat starts the second she walks into the waiting room, already anticipating what comes next. And today, well, even worse than some of the others. Twelve hours fasted, and no, that certainly won’t help her case, no matter how much water she downed before she came here, no matter how tight she squeezes her fist in the hopes of pumping even one vein up enough to be tenable. She looks at the woman sitting across from her in the waiting room, reading a back-ordered issue of Cosmo, flipping and flippant and really, why can’t she be like that? Why can’t she be normal like that? Instead, her heel is doing a frantic tap, whole leg jerking with it, and everytime she checks her watch she feels her heart creep a little further up into her throat.

If she’s being honest, she thought about canceling her labs. No, doc, all good, doc, don’t need to know, doc. And then a friend pointed out, frustratingly, that avoidance is only going to make it worse. Right, so, right, so right, so, here she is. And here’s the nurse opening the door and right, calling her name, and it’s a man nurse, male nurse, though she’s pretty sure she’s not being PC by making that specification in her mind because really, twenty-first century, and really, anyone can be a nurse. But not anyone, right? Lots of schooling, right? Right. She realizes a bit too late that she hadn’t responded to the nurse calling her name, jerking up out of her chair and trying for a smile that she thinks probably looks more like constipation. And that’s just great because now man nurse, sorry, just nurse, probably thinks she’s constipated and she’d rather not have the, actually, very handsome, just nurse, thinking that on top of whatever she’s got going on that necessitates lab work she also can’t take a shit. Right.

“We’re going to be in this room right here.” Handsome just nurse has a nice voice too, deep but kind, and a strong jawline, and a patchy beard but she likes that it’s patchy, and he’s tan and he’s got one of those big watches that tells you how hard your heart was beating on your run and he probably runs in the afternoon after clocking out of the needle-in-arms gig and that’s probably why he’s so tan, probably has a golden retriever who runs with him too, because he looks like a golden retriever guy, dark flop of wavy hair and that smile and oh, oh, he just asked her a question and now she’s supposed to answer it.

“I’m sorry, could you say that again?” He smiles, nods, being nice, at least, about her whole scared prey animal situation. She presses her palm down hard on her knee to keep it from bouncing any more.

“It says on this order that these labs need to be taken fasted. Can you confirm to me that you haven’t had anything to eat or drink besides water in the last twelve hours?” Oh yes, yep, she can confirm that for you, Marcus, his name is Marcus, says so on his little lanyard badge. Thanks for the easy one, Marcus, pitch right down the middle, Marcus, with your nice smile and your clipboard and your, well, needles and tubes. But before he can get started with his, well, needles and tubes, she makes a strangled, sort of despondent sound because in situations like these, she comes with a warning label.

“I should let you know I have, um, bad veins? Honestly, you can just start with my hands, I don’t mind it. And also, I’m a fainter, yeah, so, it happens every time, just so you know.” And usually, usually, her spiel is given very little notice, mmmokay, hon. Sure, they’ll lay her back, how merciful, so she doesn’t crack her skull open on the way out of conscious orbit. That’s about it, though. But this time, she thinks, might just be different.

“Okay, thank you for giving me the heads up. If you’re sure you’re alright with starting with the hands then it’s fine by me to get it done that way.” So, so fine, Marcus, and maybe, just maybe, she thinks she might not pass out this time. He sets the exam table at a reclined angle and she wills her rigid spine to settle against it, trying to find the balance between breathing so deeply she starts to get light headed, and not breathing at all. In case you were wondering, yes, she is on medication for anxiety, it just doesn’t seem to presently be working.

“Just gonna feel around a bit here for a good one.” She only feels a little insane for the kick and clench in her heart when he takes her one hand in both of his, because he’s just palpating the back of her hand to find, as he said, a good one. Yes, the word for it is palpating, and there is certainly nothing romantic nor, hello, sexual about anything that’s called palpating. But, hey, taking wins where she can get them, and even through the latex gloves, his hands are warm and big and very know what they’re doing about the whole thing. And she’s no expert, obviously, but he’s got a very nice, very visible vein in his forearm, and she bets phlebotomists love him, bets that when he gets blood drawn, he’s in and out no problem, bets that even she could draw blood from him. Nope, nothing sexual about that, nothing weird about that, right? Right. Nothing sexual either, when he ties off the tight band around her arm and she watches his one bicep flex a little with the effort.

“I can count you down, or you can look away and I’ll just get it done, whichever you prefer.”

“Uh, no preference, I’ll just look away and you can do whatever you want to me.” Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. She realizes exactly what she just said a bit too late, him, Marcus, nice nurse Marcus, letting out a laugh that fizzles out into a cough. Great, now she’s made her fucking phlebotomist uncomfortable, possibly one of the last people you want to make uncomfortable. But if that, whatever that was, lingers, he doesn’t show it, already swiping an antiseptic wipe over the back of her hand and pulling his little cart of tubes closer to himself. And she knows this part, she’s good at this part, letting her eyes sweep up and to the right, because he’s on her left, and willing whatever vein he decided is a good one to stay a good one. Little pinch, little prayer, she lets out a held breath when he says a quiet alright and keeps the needle exactly where it is. Hallelujah.

“This might take a little longer, just because we’re drawing from your hand.”

“I’ll bleed as fast as I can then.” At the very least, he laughs, even though she wishes she had kept that one to herself.

“Do you live around here?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Sorry, I’m trying to distract you.”

“Didn’t they teach you how to do that in like, phlebotomy school?” She still has her eyes turned up and away, only a little wince when he switches out one tube for another. He hums at her question.

“Not really, I could ask you about the weather, is that better?”

“It’s cloudy. Not much of a conversation starter.”

“Well, why don’t you ask me something, since you’re such an expert on starting conversations.”

“Do you have a golden retriever?”

“What?”

“Sorry, you just, you look like the kind of guy who’d have a golden retriever.” Another tube clicks into place, but she’s not paying any attention to that now.

“Uh, no, no golden retriever. I do however have a very old, very deaf pit mix named Lucille.” Goddamnit, somehow that’s hotter than the golden retriever.

“Great name.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. She came with it when I adopted her.” God. Fucking. Damn it. What next, is he a volunteer firefighter on the weekends?

“Alright, that’s the last one.”

“Wait, really?” She chances a skittish glance but, sure enough, the needle is out.

“Yep, just let me get a band-aid for you and you’re all set.” Is he? Is she? Really? Going to make it out of here with no blackout? She considers, very briefly, as Marcus is smoothing a band-aid over the back of her hand, whether it’s possible to put a phlebotomist on retainer.

“If you want to sit for a minute and make sure you’re feeling alright before getting up that’s totally fine. I can also get you water or juice if you’re getting lightheaded.”

“Oh, no, I’m fine actually. Which, hey, thanks for not making me faint and stuff– that’s a first for me in a very long–” Oh, oh, stops herself mid-compliment because oh, oh, maybe stood up too fast, because the room is going a little dark, a little sideways, cold prickle and nauseous and–

“Easy, easy, I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?” His voice is a little fuzzy around the edges. To be honest, he’s a little fuzzy around the edges, though she knows right away what happened. No, not her first rodeo, like she blinked and then came to in a strange sprawl on the end of the exam table. Marcus presents a dixie cup to her, holds it right in her line of sight because clearly, she’s still a little slumped, still a little vacant, and a little warm, actually, which is new, and a little pleasant, and, oh, it’s because his arm is curled around her shoulders, firm palm held there to help her sit up. Oh. He smells like clorox and something woodsy, and it shouldn’t, but it kind of works.

“You feeling okay?”

“Mmmhmm.” She’s afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she doesn’t keep her lips pressed in a thin line, mmhmms again when he asks if she can sit up on her own, only a little despondent when he takes his arm away.

“So, you really weren’t kidding about that happening every time, huh?”

“Nope, wish I was. It’s– I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“That you had to deal with that.”

“You don’t have to be sorry about that, it’s part of the job. And actually, you fainted about as perfectly as I could’ve asked you to.”

“I didn’t know you could faint like, well.”

“Right before you went down you said I’m gonna faint. That’s a lot better than getting no heads up and turning around to find my patient unresponsive on the ground.”

“Oh gee, I bet you say that to all your patients.” Lord, if there was ever a time to put her out of her misery it’d be now. She probably still looks green from her little trip to outer space but sure, flirt with Marcus, handsome nurse Marcus who just watched you absolutely eat it. Kick your feet and bat your eyelashes while you’re at it.

“I take it you’re feeling better then? Are you okay to walk out to the front desk?” And the rest is, mercifully, easy. He walks her to the front desk, squeezes her shoulder and gives her a good job today that she likes a little too much. She makes a mental note to herself to never come back to this clinic for any future bloodwork, lest she make a fool of herself all over again in front of a man who, with any luck, she will never see again.

…

“Yes, this is she speaking.” This is she speaking in the middle of the cereal aisle with a half-filled grocery basket at her feet. She sets her gaze on a hyper-realized image of a granola cluster (now with real strawberries!) while the woman on the other end of the phone tells her that her lab results came in and were sent over to her doctor.

“Oh, great, thank you for letting me know. Do you know– did things look okay?”

“We don’t interpret the results, ma’am. Your doctor will go over that with you.” She doesn’t quite catch that, doesn’t catch the woman’s ma’am? either, a little preoccupied with staring down the aisle, because is that? Is he? He looks good out of the scrubs.

“Ma’am?”

“Sorry, no, um, of course. Thanks again.” If the woman had anything else to tell her, it’s a little too late for it, already hung up, and she’s trying to decide if she wants him to see her, or if fleeing immediately is the best course of action. He probably wouldn’t even recognize her, she thinks. It’s been a couple of weeks since the whole ordeal. And actually, she’d prefer if he didn’t recognize her. Oh yeah, the one who, well, ate it. But it seems the choice has already been made for her, because he saw her, walking down the aisle toward her, with his chin tilted down and part of a smile like he isn’t sure, but he’s pretty sure. He says her name like a question. Guilty as charged.

“Marcus, right?” Like she forgot his name, ha. His smile stretches, a little brighter, palm to the nape of his neck, and while she got the golden retriever part wrong, she totally clocked the rest, watch on his wrist and nice-looking athletic shorts and just-right-tight t-shirt with the little swoosh on the chest. She thinks his hair might even be a little sweat-damp, curled ends nearly getting in his eyes. In other words, she’s a goner.

“How have you been since we– you, well–”

“Since I passed out on you?” Yeah, that, he laughs out and yeah, she likes him, sue her.

“Just for the record, I believe it was you who said I passed out perfectly, so.” Shrug, so, he takes a step closer, leans in a little like he’s going to tell her a secret. In the cereal aisle, of all places.

“Just for the record, I really don’t say that to all my patients.”

“No?”

“Nope, just the nervous, pretty ones.”

“I was not nervous.”

“You weren’t?”

“Nope.”

“Are you just gonna blow past the other thing?”

“What thing?”

“The pretty thing.”

“Yep.” Something a little giddy, like being back in high school, shared, shit-eating and smug grins. He shakes his head and she rolls her lips back in her mouth to stop her smile from getting any cheesier.

“So, you do live around here then?”

“Mm, yeah, I do. And so do you?”

“I do.”

“Nice, nice.”

“Lovely weather we’re having.”

“Wow.”

“What? I’m making conversation.”

“You’re still not very good at it.”

“I’ll keep working on it for you.”

“Sure, okay. What kind of cereal do you get?”

“What kind do you think I get?”

“You look like a Kashi guy, if I’m honest.”

“Somehow I feel insulted.”

“Well.”

“You’re not even right either.”

“No? What do you get then?” He just smiles, steps away and reaches up to the top of the shelf and she is very grateful to General Mills for being located on the top shelf because his shirt rides up just enough to see a bare hip. In cheerios we trust.

“Apple cinnamon, seriously?”

“What? It’s a classic.”

“Actually, you know what, that tracks.”

“What do you get?” She waggles her basket in front of him in response, goods already procured.

“Peanut butter chex, respectable choice.”

“Thank you, thank you.”

“You know, I’d say we’re pretty good at this conversation thing.”

“Yeah, we’re not bad.”

“Do you want to do this again sometime? Not in the cereal aisle?”

“What, you mean like in the produce section?” He smiles at that, rolls his eyes, his basket lightly bonking against hers.

“I was thinking more like dinner, or drinks if that’s your thing?”

“I might be free on Saturday.”

“I might also be free on Saturday.”

“Well, sounds like we’re both free on Saturday.”

“Can I get your number?” His lockscreen is a picture of a dog. Lucille, he tells her, before she was very old and very deaf. She can’t help how big her smile gets at that.

“Text me, and we’ll do this whole conversation thing again.” I will, he says, phone tucked back into his pocket, though he seems to think twice before asking her can I see something really quick. Not entirely sure what he means when she nods, but then his hand sort of hovers over her forearm, may I? He really does have nice hands, she doesn’t think twice about nodding again.

“Oh yeah, we didn’t have to use your hand. I could have totally gotten it from here.” His hand curled around her elbow and his thumb lightly pressing into what she can only assume is a vein, and he says it so earnestly that she can’t help the incredulous laugh that rises up in her chest.

“Really? You’re still stuck on that, huh?” He smiles something sheepish, pad of his thumb rubbing an apology into her skin before pulling away. She didn’t really want him to pull away.

“Sorry, occupational hazard, I guess.”

“Kinda weird, you know.”

“Did I just ruin this whole thing?”

“Mmm, no, I kinda like it.”

“So, Saturday?”

“Looking forward to it, Marcus.”

#marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike fic #marcus pike au #marcus pike angst #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you

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sunlightmurdock · 4 months

Text

Ceasefire | 1.2 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (18+)

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Synopsis: Bradley Bradshaw is in San Diego, summoned to Top Gun for the first time. Commander “Hyde” Simpson is his flight instructor, and she doesn’t have time for schoolboy crushes.

Warnings: ex-husband!beausimpson, divorce, age gap (rooster is somewhere between 26-28, reader is 38), power imbalance between instructor and student aviator, swearing, slight angst at the end, smut, handjobs, teasing, riding and creampies that are never addressed again, sub!rooster, bondage, probably very inaccurate flight info

…

Eleven weeks have never felt quite so long. At the same time, the memory of seeing Bradley Bradshaw staring at you with that dopey smile still feels so fresh. In one week, classes will officially be over. Rooster will no longer be your student. It’s almost pathetic, the way you’re already miserable at the thought of not seeing his face when you walk in every morning.

Still, in this moment, he’s still here and frowning down at his flight manual. It’s a storming afternoon and the air stuff got canceled, but with Beau’s mood swings lately, class remains to be in session. You’re perched on the edge of your desk, waiting patiently for whichever one of your star pupils can answer your question first.

“Minimum total hydroplaning speed of the main landing gear tires inflated to 250 pounds per square inch is 140 knots groundspeed and, for nose gear tires inflated to 150 per square inch, is 110 knots. Ma’am.” Flipping his toothpick in his mouth and offering you a dimpled grin that proves he knows he’s correct before you tell him, Jake Seresin is a fraction faster than Natasha Trace, who sits directly behind him. It’s not the hardest question. They all should know it. It’s just the rain outside that even made you think of it.

Offering Jake a small smile and a curt nod, you open your mouth to confirm that he is once again correct. To his left, you can’t help but glance across at your favourite thing to look at in this bleak little teaching room. Only, he isn’t smiling at you.

He’s staring down at his NATOPs, brows drawn together in something between frustration and confusion. Maybe embarrassment. You can’t pretend that it isn’t your initial impulse to discredit Jake to save Bradley’s feelings — but you don’t. That’s not your job, and it’s not what you’ve worked so hard to do.

“Good work, Hangman.” You tell him calmly. Bradley doesn’t dare look up from the page. Not once. Rain pours on outside and he spends the entire afternoon glaring at the manual like he wants to rip it to shreds.

As you dismiss the class, the thought looms of this all being over soon. With just one more week to go, there are lots of decisions hanging heavy. Maybe that’s what is getting to him.

“Rooster, hang back. I need to speak to you.”

Instantly, you can tell that this was not the right move. He turns towards you, his face sullen and his eyes dark. Your brows draw together, closing the door behind the last of your students and shutting him in there with you. Alone, he remains just as closed off.

“Are you okay? — You seem kind of—“ One step forwards, you reach out for him with a gentle touch, in a way that could still be mistaken for professionalism if someone were to walk in on the two of you. But, the second your hand grazes his bicep, he shrugs it off.

“I’m fine,” He mutters, gaze turned towards the floor. His usual sunny disposition seems to have gone away with the weather. Your eyes draw into a stern squint. “Am I dismissed?”

“Dis— Okay. No, Bradshaw,” You pretend that one didn’t sting, squaring your shoulders and inhaling slowly, stepping closer so that he has no choice but to see you finally standing in front of him. “No, you’re not dismissed. If you want to start acting like this is about rank, then that’s fine by me. I want you to talk to me either way.”

A muscle in his jaw ticks. His eyes dart towards the door, and then back to you. Finally, you watch him soften. His fingertips graze the inside of your palm, choosing to look down at that exchange rather than at you.

“Could you come over tonight?”

“On official Navy business?” You tease, poking softly at his ribs through the fabric of his flight suit. All you’re offered in return is a weak smile.

He links his fingers gently through yours. Slightly more incriminating, if you were to be walked in on. Still, it tugs at your heart strings as he sighs in resignation. “Please, Hyde?”

“Of course,” You tell him, giving his palm a quick squeeze. “I’ll be over just after seven.”

He has to wait for you to finish up your work before you’re able to leave. By the time you find him, he has already worked out and showered, and he has been sitting in his room wallowing for about forty minutes.

“Talk to me,” Even with his mood, there’s nothing he can do but drape his arms around your waist and tuck his head into the soft curve of your neck as you straddle his hips. “That’s what couples do.”

There’s a moment of silence, but not the same as earlier. His hands find the small of your back, tugging you closer as he sighs against your shoulder. You know that this time he’s just finding his words. It’s almost enough, having you here in his bedroom, draped around him, ready to listen.

In the meantime, you inhale the fresh scent of his cologne and turn your face towards his temple, pressing your lips to his damp curls.

“I’m just in my head about graduation,” He settles finally, curling his fingers around your hips, pulling back to look at you. “I knew I wasn’t going to graduate at the top of the class, but — I’m starting to wonder if I even deserve to be up there with all of them. You know?”

Your fingers are soft as they card through his hair, your expression much softer than it should be as his instructor. His fingers can’t sit still, pulling you closer, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“Of course you do,” The answer comes instantly, without hesitation. It’s followed by a chaste kiss. He turns his head and sighs again, readying to protest. “You knew the answer today. Doesn’t matter if you can find it in the book before Hangman or not, you knew it.”

“How’re you so sure that I did?” He challenges, frowning back at you. As much as he wants to believe you’re telling him this because you really believe in him, there’s still a voice in the back of his head telling him that you’re just trying to pacify him by giving him what he wants to hear.

You squint back at him, smoothing your fingers through his freshly washed curls.

“Because I know you better than I know anyone in that class, I’ve flown with you,” You tell him softly. He hums as you kiss his cheek. “I know your instincts up there are better than anyone else. Even if the answer isn’t in your head right away, I know that when you’re up there, you would know what to do.”

With that, he sighs and leans his head back. His fingers flex nervously around your hips. With his eyes closed, you used the moment to catch him by surprise. He sucks in a sharp breath as your palm dips between the two of you and grinds against his cock through his shorts.

“I trust you. Up there, and down here.”

His mouth twitches slightly, his eyes softening as he tries to pull back from you. “Hyde… come on, I don’t need you to baby me.”

You smile back at him, giving a curt nod of your head as you brush your palm more firmly against him. The way his throat contracts when he’s trying not to give in to you prickles along your skin, a rush of excitement.

He closes his eyes as you lean in and suck softly at the freckle on the left side of his neck. Your lips trail tantalizingly slowly along his throat until finally he shivers at the feeling of your breath against his earlobe, “Okay. You want me to make you prove it?”

“Make me?” He breathes out, fingers balling into the fabric of your T-shirt, brows knitting together. Already, his cock is standing to attention through the fabric of his shorts.

“That’s right,” It’s a gentle coo, so soft and sweet that Bradley really isn’t expecting it at all when you tug hard at his hair with your other hand. He inhales sharply, catching your hips and pulling you against him. His cheeks flush red, his eyes blown wide and desperate. You’ve never seen a man beg without even opening his mouth before. “Close your eyes for me.”

Another thick swallow, his throat squeezing around nothing as he closes his eyes, his dark lashes brushing against his cheek.

He’s so pliant, giving himself up to your more than capable touch. Lulling him into calmness that he’s powerless to fight against as your mouth kisses at his chest, pushing at the hem of his t-shirt and helping him out of it.

“Contrary to what you might have heard from Hangman, or from Pete Mitchell,” Bradley bites at the inside of his cheek as you lick at his freshly exposed chest, nipping at his pectoral. Even with his eyes closed, he’s red and embarrassed by how hard his nipples are in the chilled room. “Being a good aviator isn’t about confidence.”

If you’re going to keep talking as you head further south, he’s going to struggle to keep listening. His hands follow you as you slip out of his lap and settle between his knees, your tongue trailing along his middle.

“Instinct is everything.”

Bradley balls his hands into his bedsheets, lips parting just slightly as you suck firm kisses into his taut abdomen.

“Lay down.” You order, and without question, he obeys by scooting back and laying down flat with his legs still over the edge and bracketing you.

“Lay back for me.” You say sweetly, he obeys. To your right, you find the brown leather belt that you’ve been eyeing. Still looped through his jeans, discarded onto the chair in the corner of the room. Rooster fidgets in front of you, waiting to feel your touch again. “You trust me, right, Rooster?”

“Of course.” He exhales, his answer instant.

You push yourself up and he peeks an eye open, watching you free the belt and turn back towards him. Your smile grows as you find him even more red-faced than before, staring right at you.

“Lift your hands and hold your wrists together for me.”

“Really?” He whispers, his voice thick. You nod sweetly, nodding for him to shift further up the bed. He complies wordlessly, pushing himself to the top of the bed and presenting his wrists for you. His eyes darken and his brows raise, watching you climb up the bed with his belt in your hands.

“Don’t pull too hard, you’ll be sore.” You warn him, looping the belt around his wrists and through the wooden slats in his headboard. He gasps softly as you pull the leather tight and guide it through the buckle.

“Fucking hell…” He breathes out, his voice an excited whisper.

After the soft leather is secured, his wrists fastened to his headboard, you take a minute to sit back and observe. He’s watching you with such abject trust, desperation and excitement all at once. His stomach is quivering with each breath, stretched tight by the way his arms are raised.

Your tongue dips out to wet your bottom lip as your fingers reach for him, walking along the length of his thigh. Leaning over him again, you dip forwards and press a soft kiss to his lips.

“What do you want?”

“I want you to be naked.” Rooster rushes out, shifting uncomfortably and glancing towards his tied hands. When his eyes flicker back to you, he breaks into a bashful smile. Your lips twitch, looking back at him.

“Okay,” You agree sweetly, reaching for the bottom of your t-shirt. He watches the way your eyes darken, filling with mischief as you pull it up just enough to expose the soft skin of your stomach, then hold it there. “You’re at a cruise altitude of 35,000 feet, how do you know how to calculate your descent?”

Three miles per distance per thousand feet in altitude. Your mouth twitches watching him do the math in his head while staring at the sliver of exposed skin under your shirt.

“35,000 minus the last three zeroes — uh, thirty-five. Thirty-five multiplied by three… a hundred and five.” You narrow your eyes quizzically as he stumbles through the math, knowing that it comes more easily to him than he’s able to tell you. You’ve not seen him personally land on a carrier, but you know he can. You know that he’s done it a hundred times over. “You’d start the descent 105 nautical miles from the destination, maintaining a speed of 300 Knots-Indicated air speed… and a descent rate of 1,500 to 2,000 feet per minute, with thrust set at idle.”

You smile back at him, peeling your shirt up and over your head. He exhales, eyes falling down to the black bra covering your tits. Forgetting himself for a moment, he moves to sit, the buckle of his belt knocking into the woods and reminding him of his predicament.

“Feet per minute,” You continue, reaching for your own belt, slipping the leather from the buckle and pausing. “If you land on the carrier right, how does the hornet hit the deck?”

“800 feet per minute.” He exhales. Your mouth twists into a grin as you pop open your belt buckle.

By the time that he has rid you of your clothes, his answers are especially fast and you’ve noticed that his wrists are growing red under the hold of the leather.

Standing on your knees, you crawl your way up your, now completely naked, boyfriend and turn. Straddling his abdomen, your naked core sits just out of his reach. His mouth falls open and a dismayed, needy sound slips out.

Having freed him of his own shorts and boxers just moment before, his cock is red and swollen, angry from the lack of attention. Settling yourself with a sly wiggle of your hips, you take his cock in both of your hands and cover as much as you can with your mouth.

Soaking his length with a generous amount of saliva, you hear his head fall back and hit the headboard as your hands start to stroke him. Long strides coat his shaft in spit, your hands twisting loosely left from right. From this way, the way you’re straddling him, you’ve got a front-row view to the way his thighs have started to tremble.

Furthering his dismay, he has a front-row seat to your soaked pussy, inches from his face, but just out of reach. Your hands are steady, just as calm and skilled as they are when you’re in the cockpit. Not too fast, just guiding him steadily closer to his orgasm. Letting your spit soak him, adding more to the mix, squeezing him firmly every now and again. Craning your neck so that you can lick and suck softly at his balls. His moans are strangled, agonizingly desperate from behind you.

When you finally decide to grace him with a firmer, faster touch, his moans are so jagged and eager that you know Hangman and Coyote must be able to hear him. The heels of his feet press into the mattress, his hips bucking eagerly into your hands.

He tugs hard at his restraints and winces behind you. With each delighted sound from your lips as they’re wrapped around him, his own voice is growing more and more strained. For the life of him, he just can’t keep still. He’s putty in your hands. This wouldn’t be the first time he has made a mess all over your hands, but today, that isn’t the plan.

“Hyde, don’t — please don’t — I’m so fucking close…”

You hum, hands already withdrawn. He writhes under you as you turn to face him.

“You can hold on a little longer for me, right baby?”

His voice is getting more strained as you squeeze your hands around his twitching cock and just as he is about to erupt you retract your hands leaving his chest huffing in frustration and near euphoria.

You shift, straddling his hips. His eyes go wide and round, lips parted as you situate yourself right over him and sink down just barely. Your soaked core just grazes him as you rock back and forth softly. His eyes follow the curve of your waist, the slight movement of your tits as you taunt him.

“Can wait a little longer for me, right?”

“Oh, fuck.” Rooster whimpers.

You lower yourself gently onto him, palms braced against his shivering chest as his tip notches into you. He gasps and turns his head towards the pillow, pulling hard at the restraint.

You lean all the way forwards, your naked tits pushing against his chest, your lips mouthing softly at his neck. “It’s okay, I’m gonna take care of you.”

Finally, he’s fully sheathed into you, and he sighs out in relief, dropping his head forwards to rest against the curve of your shoulders.

“I still wanna see you cum,” He pants out, groaning softly as you lift up and sink slowly back down on him, digging his heels into the mattress. “If I can’t do it, I still wanna see it.”

Your mouth twitches at the thought.

“Yeah, you want to watch me get off?” You grin, kissing across his cheek and finally at his mouth. He whines softly, watching you rocking your hips into his gently, grinding yourself into him.

“You have to stop talking or I’m gonna cum.” He mutters with a stiff shake of his head, his eyes flickering up to you as you giggle above him. You purse your lips and lean forwards, pressing a sweet kiss to the tip of his nose and then sit back.

He watches, every muscle in his chest and arms constricting as he watches you sit back on his thighs, all full of him, lifting your fingers and miming a zip across your lips, and then a lock at the corner of your mouth. Finally, even though all of his focus is on trying not to bust, his lips stretch into an amused grin.

You settle back into the rhythm of bouncing on him, bracing one hand back against his thigh as the other dips between your own legs.

The angle is just right, your orgasm ebbs closer but remains just out of reach as he watches helplessly, dazed by the glow of you.

From the first day he saw you, he’d never imagined he would be as lucky as to be at your mercy like this. The thought dawns him and his hips twitch, snapping up to meet yours.

“Christ— wait, slow down, wait— oh, fuck.”

You gasp sharply as he drives himself into you just once more from below before he’s spilling hot and fast into you, groaning and gasping out loud with little regard for who might hear him.

His deep groans are music to your ears as your fingers work feverishly at your clit to keep up. His mouth hangs open, still buried inside of you as he watches you come apart in front of him, your eyes closed and your chest heaving, his name on the tip of your tongue.

Finally, you collapse forwards against his chest, lifting off of him and kissing at his neck.

“Fuck…” He breathes out.

“You feel better?” You whisper, catching your breath as your nails rake along his stomach. He hums in response, kissing softly at your temple.

He sighs in relief as you pull the belt apart and free his wrists, stretching out his arms and rubbing at the reddened skin.

“I can’t stay, Taylor’s getting dropped off home at nine.” You kiss his mouth softly, already starting to push off of his chest. He just groans and rolls onto his front, disgruntled by the idea of not having you in his bed tonight. “I’ll see you tomorrow at six?”

“Right. What should I wear?”

“A little more than you’re wearing now, preferably.”

He chuckles tiredly and considers grabbing his boxers, opting to instead just press his face into his pillow as he listens to you getting dressed again.

“Should I bring them like… a gift or something?”

“It’s a little early for bribery.”

He sighs and sits up swiftly, resting his elbows on his knees, his mouth creasing into a worried frown. “What are we going to do if they don’t like me?”

Really, there’s only one answer; you’d never put him before your kids and he knows that.

Pulling your shirt down over your body, there’s only one thing to do. You lean forwards and kiss his lips tenderly. “They’ll love you.”

Once you convince him to get dressed again, Bradley walks you down to your car. Jake and Coyote say their greetings and goodbyes swiftly and politely, not making you stop for small talk.

Then, as Rooster heads back upstairs with a reddened face and even more reddened wrists, they meet him in the living room, beaming.

”Don’t start.” He groans, trying to dismiss them and head back to his room before the ridicule starts. It’s a little late for that. It’s been a little late for that since they heard Rooster practically crying your name twenty minutes earlier.

As you return home to reunite with your children, you’re greeted with an onslaught of texts about how — to quote — ‘those idiots heard everything’. It should bother you, but the thought of Bradley all red-faced and squirming at their comments just makes you chuckle.

Meeting at a neutral place always seemed like the best option, until you’re sitting in the parking lot, staring at your kids in the backseat — feeling like you’re introducing cats. Well, it has been quite some time since your children got over their interest in scratching and biting, so hopefully this will go smoother than that.

”How are you guys feeling?” You ask them, turning in your seat finally. Dylan can see the worry on your face. Your brows are raised, your eyes are round and fleeting between them each, lips pursed.

”Yeah, fine, mom.” He offers you a polite, sincere smile. It’s the best that he has to give. He knows this means something big to you. He knows that you’ve started singing in the kitchen again, and reading Taylor the stories with the voices, laughing with him until you’re doubled over and crying.

”Do you think he likes cats better or dogs?” Taylor perks up, tucking her feet up onto the seat and quirking her head at you. Your lips twitch as your son rolls his eyes at her.

“You can ask him.” You decide, and she seems to accept this as good enough of an answer. She settles back in her booster seat, crosses her arms across her little knit sweater and smiles back at you. Poor Rooster doesn’t have a clue what he’s in for with this little chatterbox — but you know he’ll be glad to not have to sit in silence.

A beat passes as you look between their faces. They both smile back at you, for different reasons entirely.

“Okay, are we ready to go inside?”

After quick agreement, Taylor watches her shoes cast purple neon shadows across the puddles, flashing bright with each step as your heels clack across the ground ahead of her. A hand lands on her shoulder, guiding her along and making sure that she keeps up.

Swiftly, she looks up at her big brother, frowning curiously at him, ”So, do we have to call him Dad too?”

”Rooster.” You breathe out, lips stretching into a smile as you spot him walking over from his truck. He looks right past you as you wrap your arms around his neck. About five paces back, your kids are trailing you, deep in conversation. About him, no doubt.

Suddenly, his attention snaps back to you, his eyes going wide as you kiss his cheek. He untangles himself from you, aggressively platonic for a man who was begging to hold you yesterday.

“Hi.”

”Don’t be weird, they’re children, not the FBI.” You whisper to him, turning quickly as you hear the two of them approaching this. “Guys, this is Bradley. Bradley, this is my daughter, Taylor, and my son, Dylan.”

”Hello.” Bradley stiffens.

“Hey.” Dylan tries.

“You’re pretty tall. Women like that.” It would seem that you’re all caught off guard by your daughter’s comment. Luckily, it’s just enough of a surprise to make Bradley’s tight-lipped smile break into a wide-stretching grin.

He sits opposite her at the table, Dylan by his side and you opposite Dylan. She spent the afternoon with your mother and it would seem, the two of them spent their time preparing questions.

”So—“ Dylan manages to interrupt, earning himself a stern glare from the little girl who was just about to get into the favourite colours segment of her interview. Bradley turns his head and looks at your son. “What team do you follow?”

Bradley shoots a glance over at you, knowing full well that your son has been raised to be a die hard 49ers fan. He looks back to the thirteen year old and inhales— he can’t pretend to like that team, he just can’t do it—

“The Eagles.” He rushes out.

“Huh.” Dylan quirks an eyebrow, turns his head and shoots you a look. He smirks softly, bringing the rim of his Pepsi glass to his mouth. “And… how’s that working out for ya, big guy?”

Bradley’s mouth falls slack, and he looks quickly across the table for support, finding nothing but you smirking back at him and Taylor giggling in response.

“Hey, buddy, I’ll have you know—“ And once again, that seems to do the trick. That’s the straw, right before the appetizers come out, that gets Bradley really talking, and after that it just doesn’t stop.

Taylor quickly gets him onto the conversation of cats versus dogs — he seems to pass her test. Bradley turns the conversation on you, and winds up grinning ear to ear with the insight of how your children perceive you to be, how they love you. You turn the conversation on Bradley, and reveal to the children that he not only enjoys rum and raisin flavoured ice-cream, but that it’s his favourite.

The betrayal on his face after that one will keep you laughing for weeks to come. It’s almost enough for the children to change their minds about him, but he quickly gets things back on track by revealing that he once met the guy who plays Captain America on a flight.

That wins him some serious brownie points.

You know that, just as easily as he had with you, he had won them over.

He grins at you as he settles the bill — despite your insistence to split it, his nerves seeming to have finally calmed.

“Mom, why do you call him Bradley when his work name is Rooster?” Taylor asks, slipping her hand into you palm as you head for the exit.

“Because we aren’t at work right now.” You answer with a shrug, checking over your shoulder to see Rooster talking with Dylan about something behind you.

“Can I call him Rooster?” She asks, peering up at you.

“If he says you can.”

“Bradley?” She cranes her neck as she calls back to him, capturing his attention instantly. “Can I call you Rooster?”

“Sure. Either works.” He shrugs, tucking his wallet back into the pocket of his jeans, walking to catch up with the two of you.

She looks quickly back up to you, approval plastered across her little face. She gives your hand a quick squeeze and smiles.

…

Tags: @cherrycola27 @mak-32 @khaylin27 @stoncms @shanimallina87 @cool-ultra-nerd @angelmavmurdock @gingerbreadandpaper @mizzzpink @whisperofsong @throwinsauce @perpetuelledaydreaming @n3ssm0nique @thedroneranger @abaker74 @marantha @ghxst-heart @diamond-3 @shawnsblue

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster x you #top gun smut #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader

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euaphoric · 10 months

Text

lust.

✩‧₊˚ pairing — jungkook x f!reader, strangers to ??? (wtv they got going on in this dynamic)

✩‧₊˚ warnings — i was planning to make this way happier but i was in a sad mood so im sorry if it’s a little angsty? some fluff ig, sm*t, mentions of alcohol & smoking (cigs), dom!jk & sub!reader, hookup culture, slight corruption? oc cries a lot, spanking, ch*king, just a lot of freeky stuff, koo is a little mean in this oops

words: 3.2k // literally the longest thing i’ve wrote so far. also irdk what this is but i just kept going and couldn’t stop, kinda feels rushed toward the end cause i just wanted to get to the freaky parts sfsfjgs i’m sawry y’all

it happened 2 years ago, yet the memories of that fateful day still carry on with you as if it were yesterday. vibrant recollections of those slender, jewelled hands clasped around your neck as you cry out for him, body subconsciously submitting to all of him - breaking every barrier you’ve built up within. of all your years of existence, that night was the only time you’ve felt truly alive, shedding every ounce of innocence away in one night for a man whose name you didn’t even know.

do you regret losing your virginity to someone who only saw you as a temporary plaything? partly yes and partly no. you were conflicted on the fact you never exchanged info after he left but other than that, nothing regrettable came out of it. the only issue was that he’s set your standards far into oblivion, you’ve yet to find a lay as memorable as he was. it’s not as though you haven’t tried getting over it in the past - you’ve been desperately wishing to forget. suppressing your inner desires with all kinds of self pleasure methods; even going so far as to banging other hot strangers you meet from the bars/club - but even then, you couldn’t replicate how you felt with him and you still couldn’t reach your climax without thinking of your first time.

you catch yourself daydreaming of him daily. the raspy tone of his voice, the intoxicating scent of expensive cologne, the fluorescent, animated ink that adorned his arm along with a silver pierced lip and eyebrow, his sublime sense of style. everything you could’ve ever wanted, slipped away from your grasp forever. that was, until you were met face to face with him again - a total of 882 days later (yes you did the math). you went bar hopping downtown with all your girl friends, looking for an eventful weekend. little did you know you’d be running into him again, the nameless man that gave you a night to remember. you were definitely the first to notice him, it felt quite peculiar but as soon as you walked in you got struck with a weird deja vu moment. it all felt so familiar to you, even down to the symphonic melodies of jazz music playing in the distance, everything brought you back to that gloomy autumn night.

you’d try your dearest not to stare but your mind was not complying with any rationality, one look at his broad physique and it was endgame for all your sanity. it didn’t help that your body went inert, lost in a trance of him indefinitely, wanting nothing more than to worship him and give in to his every need. you reminisce about him telling you how much of a good girl you were for taking all of it, sucking on his fingers as you completely come undone underneath him. he left you begging for more that night, crying and pleading for at least a goodbye kiss - which you never got the pleasure of getting. “i told you this was a one time thing only.. besides, i’m leaving the city tomorrow for good so you’ll probably never see me again. it’s for the best anyway.”

his cold last words left more than a lasting impression on you. it sent you into an endless spiral of overthinking, analyzing any and everything you could’ve done wrong. did that night really mean absolutely nothing to him at all? all the countless times you’d touch yourself to vivid recounts of his face pressed into your thigh, plastering wet kisses all over them and sucking on your bruised skin. he’d spank each thigh one by one as a punishment, proudly smirking at the way you’d wince out in pain mixed with so much pleasure. he thrived off the idea that he was the first to corrupt you like this, a girl he hasn’t even known for a span of 24 hours willing to give up just about anything she had to offer. had you shamelessly wrapped around his finger like an brainless puppet.

you still don’t understand how someone can look so divine, even when doing nothing but just standing. you watch as he sips Viognier out of an oversized wine glass, gazing at the crowd, ruffling his fingers through his hair from time to time. then it became unreal when you locked eyes with him, catching him stealing a glance when he realizes who you were. you look almost exactly the same as you did a few years ago, the only part that’s different about you now is the recent butterfly tattoo you got on your lower back. that’ll be a pleasant surprise for him to find out. his eyes never drifted once they landed on you, he was in just as much shock as you were - maybe more. he’d made an internal promise to himself to keep you as a forever one time fling - nothing more just that, but if fate wasn’t real then why would the universe send you back into each other’s lives?

no, not a romantic kind of fate. the fate you get when someone you’ve mindlessly lusted over for ages has finally found its way to you again. a fate that doesn’t occur by chance, or coincidence, it was pure destiny awaiting to happen.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

“wow, you haven’t changed at all have you?” he says nonchalantly, acting as if you were an old friend he was catching up with. you weren’t sure how to respond, the surrealism of the moment brought you everywhere but reality. all you really could do was blink, fluttering your lashes at his towering figure over you. though there was a sea of people in this packed, lively bar, it felt like only you two existed in this confined space. he tried striking up the usual basic conversation with the typical, how’re your studies going? work’s been treating you well? anything exciting happen in your life recently? you gave as much of a vague answer as you could, barely putting any thought or effort, you were only giving him the same treatment that he gave back then. he would often come off as bored or condescending at times, it felt good to take back just the little bit of power you upheld.

you quietly observe as he orders another drink, two actually, not even bothering to ask what you wanted. he hands you a glass with a salted rim, the clear liquid made you believe it was either vodka or tequila, either way you gulped it down in no time and squeeze the lime on the side as chaser. you didn’t have much to drink but his presence alone was already enough to make you feel tipsy. “i thought you said you were never coming back to the city?” you blurt out, instantly scolding yourself for bringing up the past this quickly. it was just the undying curiosity of wanting to know the inner depths of him, not the stonewall of a persona he portrays to be. “i don’t know, guess i just felt like visiting. also had some unfinished business to attend to.” there he goes again with those subtle answers, toying with you so easily. his responses have always annoyed you to a certain extent but this feels even more strange for some reason. what’s the “unfinished business” he’s referring to?

“so” he pauses, never actually finishing his thought. “so..” you awkwardly mimic, hoping he’ll spit out whatever the hell he has to say. it took some time before he clears his throat and takes a sip of what seemed like his fiftieth drink tonight. “soo, do you…maybe wanna get out of here?” you’re not sure what’s with the shy act suddenly, he wasn’t this timid when you first met him. it’s like you’re meeting a whole new person. “uhm, sure i guess” you spoke hesitantly, taking his hand as he reaches out for yours. bumping into loads of drunk people while he weaved you through the crowd, it felt like multiple eternities before you’ve found the exit. he lights a cigarette before heading down the vintage spiral staircase, still hand in hand with you. “goddamn… look at your fine ass. still just as sexy as i remember you last time mamas.” he gracefully compliments, walking slightly behind in attempts of getting better sight at the back view of the form fitting dress you wore. his hand left yours in favor of wrapping around your waist. “t-thanks.” you reply sheepishly, hoping that he doesn’t notice how flushed your cheeks are.

before getting in his car, there was one more thing you needed closure with, the one thing that constantly kept you up at night. “i don’t mean to be this straightforward but, i want to know your name. i know this probably sounds really lame and pathetic but it’s been eating me up inside since the day we met and… i just- i think i deserve the right to know is all.” you wanted to scream at your poor delivery, sounding nowhere near as confident as you did in your head. the cigarette was still tucked between his lips, taking another long drag before answering you. “damn, even after all this time i still occupy your mind sweetheart? that’s adorable,” he teases, reveling in on your confession. “but i suppose i can agree with you since i did keep you guessing for so long. it’s only fair you should know, right?” that sly little smirk never left his face, he knows exactly how to mess with you. “it’s jungkook. and you are?” ah, so he really does have a name. “y/n.” you mutter, looking down at the pavement. “that’s pretty, i like it. suits you well.” his hand raises yours to his lips, kissing it gently, “nice to formally meet you y/n.” your eyes dart at him reluctantly, hoping your palms weren’t too clammy. “you too, jungkook.” none of this still felt real to you, you wanted to pinch yourself and wake up immediately. “it’s kinda hot the way you say my name.” he casually admits, the grin on his face deepens, “that won’t be the only thing you’ll be screaming at the top of your lungs tonight though.”

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

this certainly wasn’t the first (or last) time you found yourself like this. getting severe brush burn from the carpet by being obediently on your knees, swiftly bobbing your head as tears stream down your face, ruining your precious mascara. the only audible sounds were his groans echoing in the room of this giant suite at the four seasons. it gave a sense of familiarity, and oddly enough you found comfort in being in such a compromised situation. especially with him again. “fuck, you’re so pretty,” he grunts, grabbing a fistful of hair, never taking his eyes off you. “look even prettier with my cock stuffed deep in your mouth.” his words sent chills, all you wanted to do was keep pleasing him. your mind goes hazy from the end of his shaft hitting the back of your throat, other than the tears, you showed no outright emotion—you had to endure this, you’ve been praying for this moment since your first ever encounter. big doe eyes look up at him innocently as you suck the soul out of him, all the shiny gloss you wore on your lips now completely transferred onto him - in this perspective, you were utterly perfect.

“shit- you’re so good at this..” he hisses, watching as you kneel beneath him, saliva glistening on your chin as you gag all over his cock. you do the best you can to fit all of him, you did learn from the best after all. you hum against him in response, feeling his cock twitch from the sudden vibrations. if you keep going like this he’s bound to cum for sure, but he doesn’t want to give you that satisfaction - he wants to have all the power and control. “get up.” he spat harshly, if you swirl your tongue around him like that one more time he feels as tho he’s about to combust. the choice of only taking him further in made him even angrier. “did you not fucking hear me? i said get. the. fuck. up.” he pulls your hair tighter to yank your head back, forcing a semi-loud *pop* with your lips as you detach from his cock, swallowing the string of drool from the corner of your mouth. silly you for keep going, you should’ve listened the first time. now your forever fantasy of getting to suck him dry and drink his cum has sadly been cut short... “since you’re so damn greedy for this cock why don’t you go stand up against that window while i fuck you, hm?” your face becomes mortified when you haven’t realized just how big those windows truly were. it took up a quarter of the living room and the curtains were never closed which you also failed to notice. you were at the top floor of this 52 story building but still, you were rightfully nervous out of your mind.

the next thing you knew, your body’s pressed up to the cold glass, his big hands caressing both sides of your waist and trailing kisses to the exposed skin on your back. you watch the faint reflection of him toying with the hem of your mini dress, slowly pulling it up then stopping when he gets to a certain point. “oh.. what’s this here?” he asks, glancing down at your butterfly tattoo, his fingertips lightly brushing over the fresh ink. “guess you aren’t so innocent as i thought you were.” you shook your head, biting your lip when he gropes your ass, “n-never was i-innocent.” you quietly mewl. “oh yeah?” he breaths warmly against your neck, hiking the dress up further. “then be a good little slut for me and don’t speak unless i tell you to.” the palm of his hand slaps your cheek hard enough to leave a visible print, pushing you up against the window more. you were enjoying every single minute of this, you were so elated that you could cry again. you feel his touch down lower, grazing over your folds to feel how wet you are. “shit, you’re already dripping like this just from sucking me off? always knew you were such a filthy whore.” two fingers slid into your heat with ease, pumping them in and out. “nngh~” you moan lowly, “shh, quiet for me doll. wait ‘til i fill you with my cock then you can scream all you want.” when he pulls them out his chest collides with your back, rubbing himself between your folds and bringing his drenched fingers up to your mouth. of course, you open eagerly to suck on his sleek digits, you remember doing this exact thing last time. history truly does repeat itself.

once he fully settles in, the clench of you around him makes his brain all fuzzy, you feel so warm and inviting, could stay like this forever. “fuck.. so fucking tight” he husks, firmly gripping at your waist before he begins moving. first he goes at a normal pace, stuffing you nice and slow with delicate kisses to your shoulders. he soon built up more momentum, thrusting in and out of your soaking cunt as bodies clash together. you arch your back more as he his cock hits your walls deeper, mumbling a bunch of gibberish as he fucks you completely dumb. “what’s that doll? i can’t hear you, speak the fuck up.” he orders sternly, producing another harsh, loud slap to your ass - never letting up on his stamina. “ughh f-fuck! you’re so b-big, feels sso goood.” you whine, feeling nothing but cockdumb at this point. “yeah? you like the way i stretch this pussy out? gonna cream all over my cock just like you did for me last time baby?” his strokes get rougher with each question. “yes…yes.. oh fuck- jungkook! jungkookk!” you chant over and over like you’re casting a spell, the ring of his name slips on your tongue smoother than the pungent liquor you drank earlier. “only i can fuck you as good as this right? have you acting this obedient and submissive? bet you were manifesting this shit all long, just can’t enough of my cock can you?” the questions just won’t stop, and the waterworks soon start up again, you’re not sure how much more you can endure.

“don’t even fucking answer, i already know anyway.” his cockiness really pissed you off but at least he had the evidence to back his arrogance up. his pace grew relentless as he watches himself disappear in you, still gawking over the pretty design of the butterfly. you felt so close - that same knot tied in your stomach like you felt before; you haven’t had this feeling since the very first time, as if only he was the one to unlock this level of passion out of you. “g-gonna cum s-soonn.” you alert him, tasting the faint bitter saltiness from your tears pooling down. a pair of strong hands connect around your neck, wrapping tightly as he rams in harder, making your whole body tremble and shake. “go ahead, do it.” jungkook encourages supportively, “cum with me doll face.” those words were all you needed to hear to let go, screaming out his name and a slew of more curses. you feel your release drip down your leg, mind completely blank from the buzz taking over you. he quickly pulls out, dumping all his white seed onto your back as you whine from being empty again. you could honestly go for another round if he asked you to right now. it was fun while it lasted though, looking over at the skyline view while getting your back blown out - seemed like a literal dream come true.

the aftermath was quiet, you didn’t say much and neither did he, you reverted right back to your shy demeanor. when you cleaned up yourself in the bathroom you grabbed your purse to rummage for your house keys but he stops you mid action. “where’re you going?” that only confuses you more, where else would you be going? “uh, home?” you meekly respond, unsure of his real intentions. “don’t be like that, you can stay the night here.” he suggests, “my plane leaves in the morning though but you can sleep here for as long as you’d like, i’ll book this room for an extra day.” it was sweet of him to do that for you, it was the least he could do to mellow your sorrows. you were hoping to be with him for a bit longer but what were you expecting really? he’s just someone who comes and goes, taking everything you had to give, just to leave you high and dry all over again. “come here.” jungkook directs assertively, patting his thigh for you to sit on his lap, you waste no time in propping yourself onto him. “don’t be sad doll, cheer up. we’ll meet again sometime yeah?” you nod, feeling so hopeless and broken inside, he’s only saying this because he probably just wants to fuck again. that’s all you are to him, a fucktoy and nothing more. even though he sees you in that light, it still makes you feel validated in some twisted kind of way. at least right now you have all of his attention, it may just be momentarily but it felt so good. one thing was definitely made clear by him though - he was deeply, undeniably, in pure lust with you.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x female reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook fic

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darkmajesty-xo · 1 year

Text

Ready Player 1 ? - Shigaraki x reader

18+ MDNI | masturbation, praise , video chats, crack-humor

most would consider it unwise for a girl like you to be in these chat rooms due to the questionable discourse and rather infamous patrons, but girls just wanna have fun right ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: saw an old couple today, could be me and shig but he’s playing ☹️

user2345: i think you mean planning* as in planning world domination and torment of quirkless losers like you.

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: oh sweetheart you’ll never get any pussy if you keep acting like one

user3333: damn bro, you gonna take that ?

user2345: who gives a shit about some villain groupie ?

user2345: she keeps her mouth so full of cum that it’s starting to affect her whore brain.

user2345: do you really think the true leader of the new world would make time for some dumb cunt like you ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: there’s probably a higher chance of tomura shigaraki and i living happily ever after than there is of ANY woman even looking in your direction.

this was a normal friday night, you simping over shigaraki in the forums and clapping back at the misogynistic incels that hid behind their keyboards in their mothers’ basements. but there was one guy that always stood up for you whenever the idiots got too out of hand. he was also a moderator so he had no problems blocking them.

the two of you would dm off and on about life , thoughts on hero society, hobbies , etc. from your chats you gathered that he didn’t walk that straight and narrow but that didn’t mean much to you. he would sometimes tease your about your crush on shigaraki and your general taste in men.

finalboss: honestly, what kind of girl likes a criminal?; who knows what kind of twisted shit the guys into— you’re not even a villain.

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: you know nothing jon snow

finalboss: that reference just confirmed btw

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: i’ll have you know that my beloved is a certified otaku fantasy nerd.

finalboss: oh yeah ? and how’d you obtain such info ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: i run 3 stan accounts on twitter and i belong to a shiggy fan club 🥹

finalboss: 😃

finalboss: seek help

finalboss: 😃

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: you wound me ☹️

finalboss: i’ll just leave that too your Prince Charming lol

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: oh lord , did you see the footage of his latest attack ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: he was dressed like a whoreee 😩😩

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: tits just out for my viewing pleasure

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: shigaraki is my shepherd, he know what i want.

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: wanna suck on those sugar nips and call him mommy

finalboss: you get weirder and weirder every time we chat

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: that means we’re becoming besties ㅤ♡ ︎

finalboss: ♡ ︎

it was nice having someone to talk to about your secret obsession, it’s not like your “real life” friends would understand. the two of you had carved out your own little piece of the internet to goof around in. he never disclosed much information about himself and typically kept the conversations focused on you, but you still felt an undeniable bond to this faceless stranger.

then he ghosted you.

weeks went by without a word from your friend. he no longer defended you in the forums and he didn’t respond to any of your dms. you’d started to get worried that he may have been arrested or worse. and at the three month mark you’d finally given up hope that you’d ever hear from your friend again. but then the unexpected happened.

finalboss is requesting to video chat.

this was completely out of character but after months with no word, you were desperate to hear from your friend.

you were prepared to chew him him out for abandoning you. thinking of all the ways you could insult him while simultaneously expressing your need for his comfort and company. but your mind went blank when the grainy screen loaded into the pixelated image of your companion.

whispy tendrils fell from his bun, framing the sculpted planes of his handsome face. his lips were dry, slightly chapped, with the only lubrication being the sheen of saliva left by the slow drag of his tongue. bloodied eyes bore into your own leaving you breathless and dazed.

“hey bestie”

his voice was low and raspy, almost like a whisper. a deep rumbling that echoed in your ear drums. it was oddly hypnotic. he was absolutely mesmerizing.

tomura chuckled into the camera, showing flashes of perfectly white teeth. he leans back into the chair, a hand on the back of his neck showcasing a broad chest and toned abs.

“didn’t expect you to be this quiet, bestie. is my outfit not slutty enough for you ? i could always take these off…” his hand fell from his neck to rest and the waistband of his black jeans.

you remained speechless, eyes glued to the light dusting of hair below his belly button.

more laughter and shifting. now you were met with the glorious girth of shigaraki’s cock clenched tightly in his fist. the darkened tip oozed a sparkling trail of pre that spilled down his length. his thumb swiped the fluid to spread over his veiny member.

“c’mon , doll. don’t leave me hanging” he teased, squeezing his fist upwards to produce more pre. “i thought you wanted to be my ‘mc’ ? seems more like an npc if you ask me”.

“y-you’re him” you stammered, eyes following the slow drag of his fist. “you’re tomura shigaraki”.

“in the flesh” he teased, shooting a wink that went directly between your legs. “well kinda, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. sorry i’ve been away so long, but you’d wait forever for me won’t you , perfect girl ?”

your nod was automatic. robotic even. you’d moved closer to the screen, completely engrossed by his ministrations.

“anything for you beyon—shiggy”

you both laughed at that. he appreciated your humor, especially with all the drama in his day to day. even in def con simp mode and being ghosted didn’t stop you from being undeniably you. that’s probably why he was as obsessed with you as you were with him.

“i know we probably have alot to discuss but todays been kind of shitty and i’d really like to explore our final fantasies”.

you snorted, “that was really bad , shig”.

he shrugged, “i’m a villain, not a comedian, beloved. “now show me that perfect little pussy”.

#yandere shigaraki #shigaraki smut #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #tenko shimura #mha shigaraki #mha smut #shigaraki x black reader #shigaraki x chubby reader #mha x blackreader #mha x chubby reader #mha crack

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dollwritesarchive · 2 years

Text

𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 ⎹ 𝓑.𝓗.

fandom horror / brahms masterlist / @dollshorror-library

featuring brahms heelshire x chubby nanny!reader ( f! )

rating none of my work is meant to be viewed by minors (anyone under the age of eighteen), and i will happily block any that interact with my posts or my blog.

content warning dubcon, mention of head injury, rough fingering, squirting, brahms uses his little voice

summary you finally meet your ward

word count 3.1k / one shot

attention do not repost or translate, even with ‘credit’. just don’t do it. reblog instead of like. leave feedback if you enjoyed.

thanks so much @theluckychemist for another commission! ❤️

commission info & contact

you were locked in a fierce staring match with the open window. the window that hadn’t been open when you had just come downstairs to retrieve your laundry from the machine. it was the same window that had been plaguing you for days. you would close it, only to have it open again the next time you walked by. it must be the vicious winds during the past week’s merciless thunderstorms that were forcing it open at first, but today didn’t make any sense.

today, there were no storms.

the sun was shining, and there was a gentle breeze; nothing strong enough to force the old window as wide as it was.

just looking at it now made you feel queasy; now that you knew it couldn’t have been the storm.

both hands tight on the grips of the laundry basket filled to the brim with your freshly washed, wet clothes, you had to crane your neck to look up at the latch. you wouldn’t be able to reach it, not even on your tip toes. if you stood on top of one of the chairs from the dining room, and still pushed yourself up on to the balls of your feet, you might be able to stretch and reach, but you weren’t chomping at the bit to test the durability of an old, wooden chair that has been around nearly as long as the manor itself.

with a huff, you drop the basket by your feet and careen around it, stomping over to the window. you push it closed with both hands, applying pressure until you hear a faint creak, and a soft click. “Now, stay shut.” you mumbled under your breath, wishing that it was sentient and would obey your orders. you take a step back, looking over the glass for another moment. it’s streaked with dirt from the outside, which has turned to mud and caked itself in place. you should probably wash it next, you thought as you hoofed it back to the basket, hauling it outside to the clothesline.

you had been worried that this gig would be boring— watching an old house, a porcelain doll, and being alone all the time, but you had severely underestimated how much there would be to do. it was as if the manor was a living being, always needing to be tended in some way. you found peculiar messes here and there that you could swear hadn’t been there only days before, and your list of chores never seemed to end.

and, to tell the truth, you didn’t feel all that lonely, either. surprisingly, you felt like sometimes the little doll that was upstairs at this moment could actually understand what you were saying when you rambled on to it. you told little Brahms everything about your life, and how relieved you were to have some peace and quiet here for once. the faux child had become so comforting that you had eventually stopped putting him to bed in his own room, and opted for cuddling with it at night. your bedroom was also where you would put him down for naps, as strange as that may sound to anyone but you, and that’s where he was now. lying on your pillow with a soft throw blanket tucked in around him.

you thought about the little thing as you stretched a skirt, clipping the hem to the line. you were only supposed to watch him for a few days, but it had already been well into the following month, and still the Heelshires hadn’t come home. the strangest part was that you hadn’t heard a peep— not a phone call, nor a text, not even a note. and yet? yet, every Friday, there was an envelope on the floor by the front door, appearing to have been dropped through the mail slot, containing your pay for the week. how they managed to be so punctual and still so eerily silent was beyond your comprehension.

a particularly pesky blouse had you wishing that you had another pair of arms as you wrestle it on to the line, a pair of clips clenched between your teeth, and as you were clipping one sleeve, you catch a glimpse of something, a blur fading over the window. it startles you, and with a gasp, you drop the other sleeve and the clips into the basket. it was just a bird, you tried to tell yourself, a healthy crow had flown in front of the glass and you’d only caught the reflection. however, when you squinted against the harsh sunlight, you see the window— that damned window, is open again. “You’re shitting me.” you expel in a scoff with a shake of your head.

that was it.

you were locking that damn thing.

your footsteps were thunderous as you practically leapt up on to the porch and flung the screen door open. it slammed behind you, a loud testament to your annoyance with only you there to witness it. you hooked your arm under the backrest of the chair in the dining room and dragged it across the flawless, wooden panels in the floor, the legs hissing as if they were displeased to be treated so carelessly. unfortunately for the furniture, you couldn’t care less. you were at your wit’s end with this fucking window.

you slammed it shut. determined it would be the final time.

angling the chair in front of it, you grasp the back to pull yourself up on to it, and the legs creak. you were certainly not confident that the rickety thing could support you, but you thought it best not to think about it. get up there, lock the window, get down.

standing on the very tips of your toes, you had to stretch your arm until it nearly ached, and even then, only your fingertips could brush the lock. “Come on,” you whisper, before biting down on your lip.

the chair creaks again.

“Dammit…” even trying to bounce, you couldn’t grab the lock. “Almost…” cautiously, you push yourself on to one foot, hoping to propel yourself high enough to push the rusted bolt into place, but you were unsteady to say the least, and the chair had reached its limit. one leg cracks under the weight, throwing you backwards like a bronco that had just bucked you off. you hadn’t even the time to scream before you felt the back of your head connect with the hard floor, a white, hot shot of pain, the wind knocked from your lungs, and then… nothing at all.

complete.

utter.

blackness.

the first thing on your mind is how much your head hurts.

“Ah…” you groan, squinting as you reach for it. something pushes your hand away, and it falls limp. you expect it to hurt when your arm smacks against the floor, but that doesn’t happen. it hits soft, familiar warmth. your mattress? eyelids fluttering, you feel fingers, big ones with roughly calloused pads holding your chin, keeping your head angled. “Who…?”

“Shhh.” comes a soft voice. your lids part, your vision blurred, and you stare at a mass of red and white on the bedside table. it takes a moment for the haziness to fade, and you realize what you’re looking at. a bowl of water, tinted red, and a rag tossed over the rim, littered with red blotches. blood.

your blood.

your attention snaps from the bloodied rag to the body hunched over you. you smelled him long before you could make out his shape. it wasn’t an unpleasant smell, but the rather strong scent of sweat. you could feel his warmth— he was, after all, close enough to your limp frame.

“Who are you?” you blink, eyes trailing over the trousers, the damp, white undershirt strapped down with black suspenders. there’s a furious tufting of dark hair that sprouts from under the neckline, and it’s sparkling with beads of perspiration. “Who—“ you start to ask again, but your jaw hangs open as your eyes coruscate, higher and higher until you see his face.

no, not his face.

the doll’s face.

“Brahms?” it came out as a question, an incredulous one, although you already know it to be true, and the massive figure hesitates, before giving a little nod. he seemed to be inspecting the back of your head, you expected he had also cleaned the wound that must’ve been back there, if the bloodied water was any indication. “But… how—“

“It hurts?” you blink, startled. the voice is soft, childlike, and not at all what you would’ve expected from the mountain of a man lingering over you. “It still hurts?”

you suck your bottom lip into your mouth, chewing on it uncertainly, but shake your head, glancing to the bowl again. “No… Brahms, it doesn’t hurt anymore. Did you tend to it?” another, shy nod. Brahms gently poses your head back on the pillow, and you resist the urge to wince. then, his rough digits fall to your neck, where they rest. “Thank you…”

he doesn’t answer, but he also doesn’t move. he’s still hovered over you, fingers trembling against your throat, and you’re starting to notice how his chest rises and falls with heavy, muffled breathing behind the mask.

“Have… have you been hiding?” you ask, heart pounding against your chest, “All this time?”

“Mhm.” he answers, his fingertips dipping just under your neckline. they were timid to a certain extent, you could tell by the way he shook, but something else drove him to act beyond his sheepishness. starvation, perhaps? years without another person to touch. “But I don’t have to hide anymore.” he says, matter of factly, “Not from you. You didn’t leave me.”

“Brahms, I—“

“You’re mine.” those words sank deep into your bones, resonated like a pounding drum. his hand pushes deeper into your shirt, cradling your breast in his palm, and he lets out a blissful whine. you gasp, and reach for his wrist to stop him, but his other fist finds yours and pins it to the pillow above your head. “Mine.” he says again, this time much more desperate as he kneads your breast, snorting like a wild animal already. “Mine.”

you don’t want to moan, but you can’t help yourself. it feels good, despite Brahms’ roughness, and you whine as you squirm under his weight.

“Mine…” he moans, too, only fueled by your soft, heavenly sound, and squeezes harder, pulling at your nipple with his thumb and forefinger, “Mine!” only a moment later, he has your shirt ruffled up over your chest and tucked under your chin, exposing both of your breasts, and he’s straddling your legs to keep them down, both hands now focused on your heaving chest.

you’re confused, lost, because you know that you should fight back— try to push him off, at least, but you don’t. your arms stay where they are, up by your head, and your back arches when he gropes you particularly roughly. it had been a while since you’d been touched like this. “Brahms!” you gasped, breathless, “Easy, I’m sensitive…” but that only seemed to spur him to grab you more roughly, squeezing your supple skin in palms that felt like sandpaper until you’re writhing.

and his shoulders are bunched together, leaned forward to rub the porcelain mask against your bare flesh, inhaling deep so that he may smell the sweet aroma of your flesh through it, nesting the nose in your cleavage. “Please…” you mumble, but now you’ve soaked through your panties, just letting this strange man grab on you, and you no longer knew what you were begging for.

“Beg me,” Brahms grunted, husky, as he scooted off your legs, grasping the waistband of your pants and panties simultaneously to pull them down, too. “Beg me again!”

with your head spinning, you start to bring your knees up in defense once you’re bare from the waist down, but he grasps your ankles and pulls them straight, spreading your thighs with his knees to give him enough space to sit in between them. “Bra—hms—“ you stutter, uncertain, your hands shaking against the pillow behind your head. “P—please…”

he moans again, pathetic and soft, as if just hearing you say his name was edging him, and he cups your sticky sex with one, large paw. his movements are uncouth and base, driven by instinct alone. he forces one, thick finger into you without so much as a bat of an eyelash, and he whines into your chest, feeling just how warm and wet you are on the inside. “Feels good…” before you could even protest, another finger has joined the first, stretching you open. your nails dig into the fabric of the pillow and you cry out, squinting against the sensation. “So good!” Brahms mewls, pumping both of them knuckle deep. he doesn’t bother with being gentle— in fact, you didn’t think he could even if he wanted to, because every sound that you make is driving him crazier and crazier. “You… sound…. So pretty. Wanna hear more. I need more.” he’s mumbling to himself as he drives his fingers into you deeper, harder, trying to force the sounds from your throat.

“S—slow down, please!” you cry in desperation, eyes wide and focused on the dark ceiling. all of the tenderness of your skull fades to make room for the brutal finger fucking you’re getting. one of your hands flee to grab his wrist and try to force him into a slower rhythm, but he refuses, pumping even harder. “Too much!”

“I can’t.” Brahms whines, laying against your body until the smooth mask is smushed against your cheek. you can hear him now, breathing ragged and moaning, soaking your body with his sweat. “I can’t… Need to hear you…!”

if he hadn’t been pressing you into the mattress, you would’ve been thrown about the sea of blankets like a lifeless, rag doll with just how powerful his barrage to your sex was. your knees come up again, digging into his sides, trying to push him off, but he’s so much stronger than you that you can hardly believe it. the primal beast curls his fingers and you nearly come out of your skin. they’re just lengthy enough, and reach deep enough, to caress your sweet spot. you whimper, mouth hanging open. “That’s—“ you try to speak, but your mind goes blank.

that’s the spot.

keep going.

you don’t say the words, but luckily you don’t have to. the muscles in his arm tightens, and he drives those cruel fingers into the same spot, relentlessly, until you’re practically in tears. there’s a hard, thick lump in his trousers that he’s rubbed against you until he starts to soak through them, moaning and pleading, calling for you. you can imagine he’s already cum himself, just from fingering you. the thought alone is enough to turn your stomach, and somehow push you closer to your own downfall.

he wasn’t skillful, not in the slightest, but he was eager, and he knew the jackpot when he found it.

you can hear the sound of your cunt gushing before he’s even pulled back to marvel. a whiny, “Wait!” escapes your swollen lips, as if begging yourself not to come undone, but it was much too late for that. you were already swept away, your pent up frustration exploding in the form of a waterfall that drenches him from chest to groin when he sits back on his calves. you imagine it’s to marvel at you as you squirt for him; you can’t imagine he’s ever seen that before, and even through your slitted lids, you can see his eyes in the dark holes of the mask, as big as saucers. staring. your countenance scrunches in humiliation, but he’s still pumping his fingers, pushing your buttons from the inside, so you just keep spewing. “Brahms!” you cry, nails digging into his wrist, your body pushing itself in an arc off the bed, levitating, trying to escape him. “I— can’t—!”

you’re spent when he finally slows down, and you fall back against the bed and struggle to catch your fleeting breath, your whole body a sea of shivers and shakes. his head dips with a happy whimper, and he smears the expressionless mask over your dripping cunt, coating the porcelain in your cum. “Do it again.” he whines, amazed, nuzzling. you can hear his lips smacking, and you assume he’s managed to lap at some as it finds its way beneath the mask. “Please do it again. It’s… so yummy…” mortification begins to overtake the temporary bliss of your powerful orgasm and you’re stunned with it, face on fire as you listen to him beg for you to cum again.

“I… I can’t…”

“Why?” he sounds heartbroken.

swallowing hard, your shaking hands rest against the top of his head, digits combing through wild, chocolate tendrils. they’re damp with sweat— and, maybe your slick, as well— when you pet them, he seems to croon into your caress. “B—because… doing that makes me really tired.” you try to explain, convincing yourself that you’re not going to simply pass away from embarrassment. but gods, you felt like you would. “I have to… rest before I can do that again.”

his head snaps up at that, so abruptly that you jump, too, pulling your hands back. you were worried you’d done something he didn’t like. “But you will do it again, won’t you?”

you considered that question.

your stomach bunched up in knots.

“I—“

he nods, as if answering for you, snaking both big and powerful arms around your waist as he hugs your midriff tight, resting the side of his head against your navel. “You can only do that with me from now on. Until forever. Do you promise? You have to promise.”

“I… promise…”

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