#Sitting and talking to him on days his mind isn't fully there so at least he's not alone. Giving him space if he needs it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yazmarina · 11 months ago

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dime, ¿esto es lo que tú quería'?

charles leclerc and oscar piastri x fem!reader

how about a reward for monaco's p1 and p2?

warnings/notes: smut, threesome, a blowjob, slight degradation, dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it up, people!!!), cumshot, creampie, gagging, light choking

a/n: very ambitious and would not set me free until i wrote it...so please enjoy <3

You really had no idea how you ended up here.

Arthur is a good friend of yours, having met him when you first came to work for Ferrari under the communication department, mostly being assigned to handle the Academy and development drivers' communication needs. You and Arthur got on well, and eventually, you were hanging out with him and his other friends on the weekends.

The two of you were strictly friendly, something you've had to clear out multiple times to work superiors, nosy colleagues, insistent reporters, you name it.

Arthur isn't your type, point blank, period.

His older brother was a different topic altogether.

Charles was sensitive, artistic, a prince charming in all aspects. Being in close proximity to Arthur meant you spent some time with Charles, too, but those were few and far between and every time you were within five feet of Charles, you were reduced to a tongue-tied mess.

Regardless, Arthur insisted you come along to the celebrations after Charles' most recent win in Monaco.

"Charles knows who you are and you're my friend. He won't mind," Arthur pleaded earlier that day as you were packing up after the podium celebrations.

"What if you go running off and I'm left alone?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I won't go running off," Arthur promised. "I'll be with you the whole night. I'll even help you look for a guy you can go home with!"

And yet you're here in the present, sitting on a couch in the VIP section, alone.

Well, not really. You're surrounded by people but none of them are talking to you. Arthur had gone to get more drinks half an hour ago and you know by now that he probably was sidetracked by other friends or something to that effect.

You have half a mind to call it a night, your hand already reaching for your purse, when you hear a voice call out.

"________! You're here!"

You look up and your heart seems to jump right into your throat.

Charles is beaming down at you, a flag of Monaco draped around his shoulders, his previously styled hair now sticking up in all directions.

You caught a glimpse of Charles earlier when you arrived with Arthur, but the race winner was too busy doing shots for you to have properly said hi.

But he's here now. And he's sliding into the space beside you.

"Where's Arthur?" Charles asks, reaching for an unopened Heineken on the table in front of you.

"I have no idea," you half-yell, leaning closer so Charles could hear. You feel goosebumps erupt on your skin when Charles lays a tentative hand on your back.

"You can spend time with me, then," Charles grins, moving his arm further so it fully wraps around your shoulders.

A nervous laugh escapes you but your instinct is to lean even further into Charles' touch. He's still smiling at you, though clearly inebriated with the way his eyes seem out of focus.

"Ah, Oscar!"

You turn your head to see the other third of the podium finishers, Osar Piastri himself.

"Hey!" he calls over the din of the music. "I can't find anyone! I think they just abandoned me," Oscar adds, laughing.

He takes the seat on your left, effectively sandwiching you between him and Charles. You smile politely at Oscar, reaching your hand out.

"Hi, I'm ______," you say, smiling wider as Oscar takes your hand in his and squeezes.

"I'm Oscar," he says then pauses, realizing that you probably already knew who he was if you were any friend of Charles'. He laughs, practically giggles, hiding his face in his hand.

"Sorry, I see you around the paddock sometimes, so I probably didn't need to do that," Oscar explains, cheeks turning pink, or at least you think they do, given that the lighting in this club is atrocious.

Oscar is still holding your hand and you can tell that he's tipsy too by the way he's smiling, eyes hooded and sleepy-looking.

"________ is part of communications in Ferrari," Charles explains, rubbing his thumb over the exposed skin of your shoulder. You turn to look at Charles, and the way he gazes back at you, a half smile on his lips, breath hot on your cheek, has your heart pounding incessantly against your chest.

"She's very efficient," Charles praises with a chuckle. "I like seeing her around when she works."

You make a move to swat at Charles' thigh as if to tell him off. "Stop it, I'm not at enough races for you to see me that often."

You're laughing, mostly in disbelief at the words that just came out of Charles' mouth. He likes seeing you around?

Charles shrugs. "But when you are, I notice."

You feel your neck heat up and even more so when Charles maneuvers you closer, seemingly protective. If you moved any more, you'd be on Charles' lap.

Oscar eyes the two of you and you'd give anything to read the thoughts in his head right now. The younger man locks eyes with you and smiles, sweetly at first, but then his pupils glance down briefly at your chest, barely covered by the tube top you decided to don for the evening.

The sweetness quickly melts away as Oscar bites his lip.

"You're close, then?" Oscar asks casually, scooting closer to you and Charles.

"Arthur and her are good friends," Charles points out.

"So I guess by default, _______ and I are good friends, too."

You laugh and Oscar is grinning once more at you, and god does he look handsome under these lights. You can tell that he wants to come even closer, his fingers tapping nervously on his knee. Some slow song is playing over the speakers, bass loaded and making the entire place vibrate.

You reach out, laying a hand on Oscar's thigh, squeezing just enough to get the point across.

Oscar looks over at Charles and you follow his line of sight, seeing some sort of unspoken agreement cross the two drivers.

Charles dips his head, moving even closer to you. He breathes out right next to your ear and you shiver.

"Ma chèrie," he begins. "I think we need to take this somewhere else."

You turn to look at Charles, blood roaring in your ears. "What?"

Charles looks straight into your eyes as if searching for something. He rubs a soothing hand down your back, letting it settle on your waist.

"You want to, no?" Charles asks, momentarily glancing up at Oscar. "With me and him?"

You feel a rush of excitement course through you. Surely, this isn't happening. The idea of Charles bringing you home crossed your mind briefly the moment he touched you earlier, but that's as far as you allowed yourself to imagine. But the remnants of alcohol in your system and the intoxicating atmosphere of the club must have gotten to you with the way you so brazenly made a move on Oscar.

And now you reap what you sow.

"We can hang out at my place," Oscar throws out nonchalantly as if he was simply inviting you and Charles to more drinks at his apartment.

"I just moved in and it could use a little...housewarming," Oscar adds with a pointed look.

Charles bursts out laughing, leaning down to press a kiss to your shoulder before nuzzling into the side of your neck. You glance around, hyperaware that all eyes have been on Charles the whole night, and for sure it isn't any different now.

"Andiamo," Charles whispers. "We'll make it good."

Let's go. Your months of Italian as a prerequisite to working in Ferrari barely register with you now.

Oscar slips his own hand over your thigh, his large palm covering an expanse of your skin.

"You'll love the view from my balcony," Oscar offers, tilting his head towards you. He smiles, innocent and sweet once more, simultaneously squeezing at the flesh of your thigh.

You bite your lip, suppressing whatever sounds that threatened to come out.

You thought you'd never make it out of the car ride to Oscar's place.

Oscar had brought his own ride and being much, much more sober than both you and Charles, he took the initiative to drive. You and Charles piled into the backseat, giggling.

"Not fair, you guys," Oscar teased from the front, eyeing you through the rearview mirror. Charles merely snickers, hands sneaking up over your chest as you settle on his lap.

"Eyes on the road, Oscar," Charles ordered, yanking your top down, exposing yourself fully to Oscar. You gasped, the cold air of the air-conditioning lending to the stiffening of your nipples. Charles began to toy with them, pinching and rolling them between his fingers, reducing you to a speechless mess. You noticed just how hard Oscar was gripping the steering wheel, tight enough that his knuckles were drained of color.

You barely had time to cover yourself back up once you got to Oscar's place, with Charles tugging you out of the car as soon as Oscar killed the ignition. The younger of the two comes around to your side of the car as you and Charles stumble out. Oscar takes your hand in his and leans down briefly to kiss you, tongue darting out to lick at the seam of your lips.

Oscar pulls away, sending Charles a look. "I was on the podium, too, mate."

"Ah, sorry Oscar," Charles says lightheartedly. "Sharing isn't really my strong suit. But for her, I will try."

Charles lands a smack on your ass, the sound loud enough to make you flinch. You involuntarily whine at the sting, tripping over your feet a bit. Oscar steadies you, laughing along with Charles.

"We're gonna have so much fun with you, chèrie," Charles teases, kissing your cheek.

The elevator ride is even worse. Or better. You can't decide.

It's just the three of you, and you're backed up into the corner, Charles being the handsier of the two, creeping both hands up your sides, his knee pushing between your legs.

"Ch-Charles, not here," you manage to warn. He increases the pressure against your core, grinning as he watches you shiver.

Oscar watches from the side, arms crossed, leaning casually against the elevator wall. You meet his gaze and he winks, smiling languidly just as Charles kisses down the side of your neck.

Soon enough, the elevator doors open and you push Charles away, startled to see a pair of middle-aged women waiting on the other side. You hurry past them out into the hallway, following Oscar who saunters down towards the end with an easy step.

"Right here," Oscar declares, unlocking a door at the very end. Charles guides you inside just as Oscar turns the light on.

The living room is spacious, with a single couch and coffee table occupying it. A deep blue rug breaks the cream flooring. Past the receiving area is the dining and kitchen, set against floor-to-ceiling windows, a staple of Monegasque apartments, as you've come to figure out. A hallway veers to the right.

"You weren't kidding about the view," you comment, taking in the night sky and the sprawling harbor.

Oscar turns back to you, and only now do you get a good look at him. The first three buttons of his shirt undone, his hair the right kind of messy, and his eyes, darker than what you're used to.

"The view in here is just as good," Oscar replies, eyes raking over your body. He reaches out, a hand resting on your waist.

"May I?" Charles whispers from behind you, tugging down the zip of your skirt. He gets it open and you let it fall to your feet, kicking it off to the side.

"So pretty," Charles adds, kissing along your upper back. Oscar hikes your top up and you let him pull it over your head, leaving you bare, save for your panties.

"I could see your tits through your shirt the whole night," Oscar comments, pointer fingers ghosting over your nipples. "Imagined what they might look like."

You gasp, leaning further back into Charles. You had no idea Oscar had that kind of mouth on him.

It turned you on to no end.

"Better than what you imagined?" You breathe out, Charles' fingers making their way over your mound, pressing over the wet spot on your underwear.

"Chèrie, you're so wet," Charles curses, rubbing you through the thin fabric. "Will you let me get a taste of you, hm?"

You nod frantically, already buckling under the lightest of touch from both men. You can only imagine how pathetic you look right now, stripped bare, with them still fully clothed.

"We should move this to the room," Oscar offers, delivering a final pinch to both of your nipples. You yelp as Oscar chuckles darkly, taking your hand in his.

It hasn't even fully started and you're already made to do the walk of shame.

Oscar's walls are still mostly bare but you feel exposed somehow, shivering despite the fairly warm temperature. He leads you and Charles to the door at the end of the hall, stepping inside while undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt.

You're met with large double doors on one side of the room, leading to, what you can only assume, is a large balcony.

"We can do it with a view, amour," Charles says, wrapping both arms around your waist.

Oscar shrugs his shirt off and you watch as his muscles flex beneath his skin, taut and defined.

"We sure can," Oscar agrees, flinging the doors to his balcony open. The cool night breeze blows past your face and you sigh, heart rate picking up even more.

Charles gently maneuvers you closer to the open doors and your hands start to clam up. Shit, are you really doing this?

"W-Wait," you mutter. "Won't anyone see?"

Oscar approaches you, pointer finger hooking into your underwear. He tugs at it harshly, yanking it halfway off.

"We don't have to do it outside if you don't want to," Oscar says, voice low. He looks at Charles. "Don't wanna get kicked out after I've just moved in."

Charles snickers. "The bed is right there. We'll leave the doors open and let them hear you, instead."

And it's true. The bed is directly in front of the balcony doors, moonlight spilling onto Oscar's navy blue sheets. Oscar grabs fully at your soiled panties now, ripping them clean off.

You gasp, but any shock is melted away when you see Oscar ball up the torn fabric in his hand, bringing it closer to your face. He raises his eyebrows as if questioning you.

"Yes? No?" He asks, tapping beneath your chin. It clicks a little late what Oscar is asking of you but you nod, parting your lips.

Oscar grins, pushing your panties into your mouth.

Fuck.

You hear the metal clang of a belt being unbuckled behind you, followed by the crinkle of fabric as Charles lets his pants and underwear pool around his ankles.

"You and I are going to have so much fun with her, no, Oscar?" Charles asks, a hint of mischief in his voice.

Oscar undoes the button of his pants as well. "Yes, we are."

"How do you want to do this, baby?" Charles addresses you, taking hold of your hips. "Tell us."

"And maybe if you're good, we'll give you what you want," Oscar adds, a hand sliding up your chest before resting around your neck. Your breath hitches as you feel Oscar test the waters, squeezing lightly.

"Oh, wait," Charles laughs condescendingly. "She can't talk."

There's a glint in Oscar's eyes as he adds pressure around your neck. "Guess we have to decide for her then."

You whimper, arms reaching out to wrap around Oscar's own neck. He smiles at you, almost warmly, but you can still see the bubbling desire in his irises.

"You can take the gag out any time you want," Oscar instructs softly, releasing your neck. You take in a big breath through your nose.

"And if you don't like anything we're doing, say 'Monte Carlo'," Oscar adds. He nods at Charles and you feel yourself being pulled backward.

"Get on the bed," Charles commands and you scramble to do so, crawling over the mattress before turning around and laying back on your elbows.

Charles and Oscar eye you intently and you're tempted to cover yourself, but with how they've been acting the whole night, you're not sure how that would be received.

"You wanna go first?" Oscar nudges Charles lightly. The Monegasque grins widely like a kid on Christmas.

"Oh, yes," Charles concedes, getting on the bed with you. He scoots down so his face is level with your cunt.

"Hold tight, my love," Charles says before licking a thick stripe up your core. Your whole body jerks and you cry around the gag in your mouth.

Charles continues to work on your dripping pussy, alternating between flicking against your clit and circling your hole. You moan and whine and whimper, eyes tearing up as you look pleadingly at Oscar.

"Look at you," Oscar laughs. "We've barely done anything."

Charles spreads your legs even wider, licking even deeper. You're fully crying now, the buildup proving too much as you feel your body shake at your approaching orgasm.

Oscar reaches over and toys with your boobs, brushing over your nipples just the way you like it. Without warning, Oscar dips his head down and takes one in his mouth, circling the nub with his own tongue.

The added sensation nearly drives you crazy. The pressure builds rapidly inside you and you're left incoherent as you beg without words.

Not yet, fuck, I can't cum that fast–

You twitch and involuntarily press your pussy harshly against Charles' mouth as you come undone, toes curling and body seizing up. Oscar pulls away and watches as you throw your head back, fingers twisting into the sheets.

"Already?" You hear Charles' voice through the ringing in your ears. "You must really want it."

You blink through your tears, momentarily confused as you see Oscar reach for your face. You cough as you feel the dry fabric being pulled out from your mouth. Oscar tosses your ruined underwear to the side.

"I think she deserves a reward for getting there so fast," Oscar suggests, turning to Charles.

"Which one do you want a taste of first? You get to pick, sweetheart," Oscar says, wiping a stray line of drool dripping down the side of your mouth.

"Ch-Charles," you croak, throat still dry.

Charles and Oscar share a curt nod and the former moves to the head of the bed.

"Hands and knees, my love," Charles orders and you follow, getting on all fours. He settles against the headboard, leaning back as you take his cock in your hand.

"Guess you want me here, then?" Oscar says from behind you. You turn to peek over your shoulder to see Oscar stroking languidly at his cock, one of his hands coming down to spread your ass apart.

"Fuck, this view," Oscar hisses, smacking your ass once.

"I reckon, you don't need me to prep you? I can just–"

You shriek as you feel Oscar push in without warning, and though it was a surprise, the obscene amount of arousal coming from your cunt aids in the stretch that Oscar's cock brings.

He fully sheathes himself inside and he groans, grabbing your hips with both hands.

"Chèrie." Charles' voice forces your attention back to him.

"Don't forget about me, hm?"

You try to compose yourself as best as you can as Oscar starts to fuck you at a relentless pace. You lower your mouth down to Charles' cock, wrapping your lips around the tip.

You take half of him in, coating him in your spit, going lower each time you come down. Charles is nearly as incoherent as you were earlier, curse words in three different languages falling from his lips.

You feel the tip of his cock reach the back of your throat and you stop, gagging around it. Charles threads his fingers through your hair, yanking you back up.

"Open your mouth," Charles says, tightening the grip on your hair.

You do as you're told and Charles angles himself better. He holds you in place as he fucks up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat each time. You will your breathing to slow, but the constant assault on your pussy muddles your brain and destroys your focus.

"She's so fucking tight," Oscar says through gritted teeth. You can feel his nails dig into your sides.

"Here as well," Charles agrees. "So warm and so wet."

All you can do is sob as you let the two of them use you, filled up on both sides, reduced to nothing but two holes.

"Fuck, I wanna cum on her face," Oscar says hurriedly, hips slowing down, probably in an attempt to keep his orgasm at bay.

Charles pulls you back off of him and he surveys you for a second.

"And I'll do it inside," Charles says. "Will you let me cum inside, chèrie?"

You nod, unconsciously clenching around Oscar. He curses, speeding up his movements again.

"Mate, I can't take it anymore," Oscar rushes, pulling out. You whine at the loss but Charles is quick to get off the bed, replacing Oscar's place behind you.

You feel the Charles' tip press against your hole and you plead, rocking back, desperate to be filled up.

"Charles, please, n-need your cum in me," you stutter. "Wanna be filled up, I need it, need you, please–"

Charles slides in one swift motion and your eyes roll all the way back in your head. He's thicker than Oscar and the stretch is almost painful but in the best way possible.

The older of the two wastes no time and starts pounding into you, rendering you speechless at how brutal his pace is. You're dizzy with arousal, spit and tears mixing on your chin and cheeks.

"Look here, sweetheart," comes Oscar's voice, rough around the edges, his hand cupping your chin.

He's stroking his cock at an impossible pace, bottom lip caught between his teeth. You look straight into his eyes as you stick your tongue out, waiting for him to release all over you.

"Fuck, you really are desperate for it," Oscar sneers, gripping harder at your face. "Open wide."

A warm spurt of liquid shoots straight onto your tongue, landing on your cheeks as well. You squint as it hits nearer to your eyes but you obediently lick up everything you can from your lips, swallowing Oscar's thick cum down.

"Oh god, baby," Charles warns. "Je vais bientôt jouir–"

Charles presses you closer to him, caging your hips against his own. He groans and you feel him twitch within you. You clench down as hard as you can around him, earning your hair a harsh tug from behind. Charles yanks you back against him as he gives a few more thrusts to ride his orgasm out.

"We are not done with you yet, amour," Charles warns.

Oscar's face comes into view and he's eyeing you up and down, his thumb swiping at a stain of himself on your cheek. He brings it to your lips and you lick his digit clean.

"Good girl," Oscar praises. "But he's right. You can give us a few more, right?"

You swallow.

You nod.

#f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #cl16 #op81 #charles leclerc x reader #oscar piastri x reader

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ssa-danhotchner · 3 months ago

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Happier | Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

summary: Years after their breakup, y/n struggles with seeing Hotch move on with his new partner, Beth, while still working alongside him every day.

cw: use of y/n, past relationship, heartbreak, angst?, themes of moving on, Haley mentioned. let me know if I missed anything

wc: 1k

note: English isn't my first language so please be kind. I had the entire sour album stuck in my head. Please give me some ideas to write

read part two here

The sound of laughter echoed faintly through the bullpen as the last of the team packed up for the night. You sat at your desk, staring blankly at the screen of your computer. The words of your report blurred together, the glowing monitor casting pale light over your exhausted face. You didn’t even know why you were still there; everyone else had gone home.

Everyone, except for him.

Aaron Hotchner.

It had been years since the two of you had ended things, but the wound never seemed to fully heal. Time had dulled the ache, sure, but it hadn’t erased the memories.

You could still see the way he’d smile when it was just the two of you, the way his hand would linger on yours longer than necessary, the way he whispered your name like it was the only word that mattered. Back then, it felt like you had something unshakable, something real. But life had a way of pulling people apart, and for you and Aaron, it had been no different.

It wasn’t a dramatic breakup. There were no screaming matches, no accusations hurled in the heat of the moment. It had been quiet, almost agonizingly so. You’d both known it was over before either of you said the words. The demands of his job, his grief over Haley, and the ever-present weight of being a single father—it was too much for him to bear. And you, despite loving him more than anything, hadn’t been enough to bridge the growing gap between you.

“I can’t give you what you deserve,” he’d said that night, his voice heavy with regret. “You deserve more than stolen moments and half-hearted promises.”

And that had been it.

You had cried, of course. For weeks, maybe months. But you told yourself you’d be fine, that you’d move on. You tried to convince yourself that his words weren’t true, that you could have made it work. But deep down, you knew he was right.

Still, knowing it was the right thing didn’t make it any easier.

Now, years later, you had settled into a new normal. Working alongside him every day was a constant reminder of what you’d lost, but you’d learned to compartmentalize. You had to. There was no room for personal feelings when lives were on the line.

Or at least, that was what you told yourself.

Your eyes drifted to his office, where the light was still on. Through the glass, you could see him sitting at his desk, his phone pressed to his ear. His face softened as he spoke, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You knew who he was talking to.

Beth.

The name tasted bitter on your tongue, though you hated yourself for it. She was kind, warm, and good for him. You’d never met her formally, but you’d heard enough to know she made him happy. And wasn’t that what you wanted? For him to be happy?

But it wasn’t that simple.

Because every time you saw him with her—every time you heard him mention her in passing—it felt like someone was twisting a knife in your chest. You wanted him to be happy, but not like this. Not with her.

I hope you’re happy, but not like how you were with me.

The lyrics played on a loop in your mind, echoing your most selfish thoughts. You wanted to believe he still thought of you, that some small part of him missed what you’d shared. But the rational part of you knew better. Aaron Hotchner wasn’t the type to dwell on the past. He had moved on.

“Hey.”

His voice startled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see him standing in front of your desk, his expression tinged with concern.

“You’re still here?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

“I could say the same to you” you replied, forcing a small smile.

He didn’t return it. “You should go home. It’s late.”

“I will” you said, though you had no intention of leaving just yet.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you felt heavy, weighed down by all the things left unsaid.

“Are you okay?” he asked finally, his dark eyes searching yours.

You hesitated. “Yeah. Just tired, I guess.”

He nodded, but you could tell he didn’t quite believe you.

“Goodnight, y/n” he said softly, his voice carrying an undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite place.

“Goodnight, Hotch”

You watched him walk away, the sound of his footsteps fading into the quiet of the bullpen.

Once he was gone, you let out a shaky breath, the weight in your chest threatening to crush you. You hated how much power he still had over you, how his presence could unravel you so completely.

Leaning back in your chair, you closed your eyes, letting the memories flood in despite the pain they brought. You thought of the nights you’d spent tangled together, whispering secrets in the dark. You thought of the way he’d kiss your forehead before leaving for work, murmuring promises to come back to you.

And you thought of the way it all ended, the way he walked out of your life without looking back.

It wasn’t fair.

You wanted to move on, to let go of the love that still clung to you like a ghost. But every time you tried, you found yourself pulled back to him, to the man who had once been your everything.

You sighed, grabbing your bag and shutting off your computer. As you walked to your car, the night air was cool against your skin, but it did little to soothe the ache in your heart.

Sitting behind the wheel, you gripped the steering wheel tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.

“I hope you’re happy,” you whispered to the empty car, your voice cracking. “But don’t be happier.”

The words hung in the air, a quiet confession to a love you could never fully let go of.

And as you drove away, the memories of him lingered, a bittersweet reminder of the love you once had—and the happiness you’d never find again.

#Spotify #criminal minds #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x y/n #aaron hotch x reader #angst #angst with a sad ending

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penkura · 11 months ago

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Zoro has come to want nothing more than for you and your children to be safe. He believes for the longest time that the three of you being on the Sunny, where he can protect you, is the safest place in the world, no village or city could be safer. Zoro believes that fully, up until your ship is attacked by enemy Pirates. No one is surprised when you take your children, who are barely two years old and nearly four months old, below deck for safety, even as they both cry from the sounds and you try to calm them down.

When it's all over and he goes to retrieve the three of you, there's a strange feeling in his chest and a thought in the back of his mind that hits him when he sees you coddling your toddler and infant, both of whom are still fussy and upset, but your son starts to relax when he sees Zoro there and knows everything is okay, quickly running to be held in his dad's arms. He lifts him easily, your two year old burying his face in his neck, still crying just a bit, and the face you give him tells Zoro you have the same thought.

This isn't a safe place for children.

The two of you have several discussions the days after, on what to do now that your two little ones have had to experience the reality of living on a pirate ship so early on. Eventually you decide that it's best if, at the next island you dock at, you take your children and leave for some time, to give them a chance to grow up without fearing for their lives. Most places you visit are receptive to your crew, they welcome you all happily, and you fully believe the next island will too, based on things you've heard about it. Zoro only agrees because he wants you to be safe, you and your babies, he doesn't want anything to happen to any of you, not now not ever.

He doesn't fully accept that idea until a few weeks later, when you've left the ship with Nami and Jinbei, and have Zoro stay with your napping babies. The thought has been nagging him ever since that last attack against your crew, since he's been watching your kids grow a little more. Your son has been attached to Zoro ever since, especially when he wakes in the night, calling for him like he's had a nightmare (he probably has, Zoro realizes), while your daughter has been fully calm ever since, sleeping and nursing normally, she doesn't understand what happened and won't for several more years.

When you get back later, you find Zoro still watching them sleep, like he hasn't moved at all, lost in thought as you sit beside him. You lean against his arm, and he acknowledges you with a slight grunt and nod, before you start talking.

"I found a place we can stay."

"Yeah?"

"A small house right inside the town, the landowner is willing to let us rent it."

"That's good..."

The rest of the crew helps you pack that night, Luffy has agreed to letting you and your children leave for a time, at least until they're old enough to defend themselves, though you aren't sure you'll return. He understands that too, saying they'll always come by no matter what, as often as they can, with a grin on his face that eases you. Zoro plans to stay with you a few days more, while the Sunny is docked, and even tells you he'll take leave until you're comfortable, but you don't want him to waste time. It's not fair to him, or the rest of your crew, so you promise him that you'll be fine, the three of you will be okay.

But when those few days are up and it's time for everyone to go, you're starting to regret your decision, especially as your son cries and holds onto Zoro's leg, telling him to stay. It breaks both your hearts, and your daughter starts to whine while in her carrier on your chest.

"No go! Dada stay!"

When he finally looks down at your son, Zoro gives him a small smile as the toddler looks up at him, tears and snot running down his red face, before he picks him up and starts to wipe the tears away.

"Now that's enough. I'll be back."

"No...no go!"

"Hey now, you're a big boy, aren't ya?" Your son starts to quiet, nodding just a little, before Zoro sets his forehead against your son’s, "I need you to do something for me, all right? I need you to take care of your mama and baby sister until I get back, okay?"

He sniffles but nods again, before hugging Zoro around the neck.

"Miss you..."

"Yeah...I'll miss you too, buddy."

Zoro sets your son back on the ground after a few more minutes, before leaning down to your daughter and kissing the top of her head.

"Gonna miss you too, princess, be good for mama," you've been trying not to cry, for your children really, but you almost join in the tears when Zoro hugs you next, "I'll miss you the most. Be safe, all right?"

Nodding, you smile just a bit, leaning up to give him one more kiss before he leaves.

"I love you, we'll see you when you get back."

"I love you, too. I'll be back as soon as possible."

"I know you will."

Your son waves the whole time he can see Zoro leaving, only stopping when he's no longer visible, then looking up to you.

"Dada back..."

"Yeah," you smile and take his hand, starting to lead him back inside your rented home, "Dada will come back, just like he said."

#one piece x reader #reader insert #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #fem!reader #light angst #I'M SORRY IT JUST CAME INTO MY HEAD AND I HAD TO #HAVE SOME ANGST TO START THE WEEK I GUESS MY BAD #yes this also because ch10 of last forever isn't done i apologize #no use of y/n #might do a part 2 later idk

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angel5ofp0rn · 1 year ago

Text

♡ part nine ♡

ExHusband!Price x f!reader

You and John have been pretty distant during the past two months, basically just coparenting in the same house.

You decided that depending on how this goes, how John and his ex wife interact, how the kids all get along, that's how you’ll decide the next step for the two of to get back together.

On the train from London to Bath, John holds your youngest in his lap and listen to her ooh's and ah's about being in a new country.

Meanwhile, you listen to every little question your oldest asks you about the new country, about the plane ride, about why everyone here “talks like daddy”.

After a while the train finally arrives at the station. John takes the lead out the door, carrying your oldest on his back as you carry the youngest on your hip.

The two of you are pretty silent, only talking to the children rather than each other.

The kids go crazy, suddenly getting a burst of energy as they explore the rental John booked for this trip.

They’re clearly more interested in the temporary house than anything else.

"So," you look at John as the kids giggle and wrestle on the floor. "When do we meet them?"

John takes a deep breath before he speaks. "Tomorrow morning. I thought the four of us could get breakfast and then head out to Nadia's house." He speaks carefully as if he’s trying not to say something that might upset you.

You just nod, turning your attention back to the kids.

He doesn’t say it, but he’s just as nervous as you. He doesn’t know what it’ll be like tomorrow, if the kids will all get along, if you and his other ex-wife will get along.

The kids definitely don’t sense any tension, that's for sure.

•••

You and John tucked the kids into bed in the larger room of the house, letting them share the king bed. It’s just John and you in the second room, separate beds, as had become the norm for the two of you.

John's quiet in his bed simply staring at the ceiling, his mind filled with thoughts of the following day.

"John..?" You sit up in your bed and look over at him.

John turns his head, a tiny bit surprised to see that you're still awake. He just gives you a small smile.

"Can't sleep?"

You shake your head. You’d been trying to sleep for the last two hours but the anxiety isn't letting you.

"Yeah... Neither can I..." John rubs his face and lets out a small sigh. He lifts his covers. "C'mon, love."

You should put your foot down or tell him off... But you don’t.

He has you. Divorce, secret family and all.

You slowly get out of your bed and crawl into his, instantly cuddling up to his warm body.

John wraps his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. He closes his eyes, savoring this moment with you.

You're in his arms, and although things between you two are still tense, you're at least here with each other.

Things are okay as long as you two are together, he thinks to himself before slowly starting to drift off to sleep.

•••

After breakfast the four of you head off. You have John park your rental car down the block hoping that the fresh air would help calm your nerves…

Or maybe you were just stalling.

John's leading the way, carrying your youngest in one arm and holding the oldest’s hand with the other.

The kids are both pretty excited to meet Theo. They took the news that their father has another child very well… That wasn’t surprising, as they're just kids and don't fully understand.

You, on the other hand, are a nervous wreck. You thought of what would happen if Nadia hates you, since John meeting you made him leave her, or what if Theo wants nothing to do with your kids, his half-siblings.

What if Nadia and John still have feelings for each other?

John looks over at you, noticing the slight panic and anxiety on your face even though you're trying to hide it from the kids. He keeps his expression calm, even when his heart feels like it's pounding out of his chest.

He knows you're going to have questions and feelings about this no matter what, but he just hopes the two of you can get through his visit with his other family without any more damage.

The four of you continue walking, the house that Nadia and Theo live in coming into full view. John's grip on your oldest’s hand tightens slightly, you could notice. He lets go of the five-year-old’s hand once you're all at the front door and he rings the doorbell.

After a moment Nadia stands in the doorway, her blonde hair pulled back in a claw clip, a small smile on her face...

Damn it, she's gorgeous.

She's older than you, John's age, with these gorgeous green eyes and the prettiest long eyelashes and full lips… She even has the cutest dimples in her cheeks.

You felt like couldn't even blame John if he decided today that he wants to go back to her.

John didn't really think much about Nadia's appearance. To him she was just an old flame of the past. She was beautiful, sure, but he had moved on years ago.

She was just his son’s mother.

But, seeing how you looked at her caused John a bit of pain. He knew it was bothering you. He wanted to assure you that there was nothing to worry about between the two of them, but he didn’t have a chance to do so just yet.

Instead, John smiles a bit as he starts to introduce you all.

"Nadia... Uh, this is Gabriel, my son.” Your oldest, just excited to see his older brother soon, waves a bit, "and this is Linnie, my little girl.” Your youngest, feeling shy around the stranger, buries her face into John’s chest.

John then gestures to you, turning his head towards you then glances back over at Nadia. "And this is Y/N... My, erm..."

"Ex-wife." You offer, blushing a bit. No need to complicate it. "It's really nice to meet you, Nadia. Thank you for letting us all be here."

Nadia smiles, genuinely. "Of course. I'm glad this is all finally happening. Come in, come in. Tea's on."

You follow behind John as we walk into Nadia's house, holding Gabriel's hand tightly.

John walks in with you and the kids, a lot of nervous energy still adiating from him. You sit at the table with everyone, holding your youngest in your lap now as your oldest sits between John and yourself.

"Where's my brother?" Your oldest whispers to John as Nadia sets tea in front of John and you, then herself as she sits across.

John looks down at your son and smiles, his nervousness temporarily gone when asked about Theo. "I'm sure he'll be out of his room in a moment."

Nadia just seems to be staring at John for a moment, her expression hard to read, before she smiles and gestures to the children. "These two are adorable."

"Thank you,” you laugh a bit. "They're a couple of little monkeys."

Nadia laughs as well, finding your description of your children funny. She takes a drink of her tea as she sets her cup down on the table. "They're beautiful. They really look like Theo when he was their ages."

As if on cue, Theo walks into the dining room.

Of course he’s gorgeous.

He looks like ten year old John.

He see's his dad and immediately runs up to him and hugs him tightly. You watch as John smiles widely, hugging his oldest son tightly.

Your oldest, upon seeing that John is now hugging his big brother, starts to get excited. He hops out of his seat and goes running towards Theo as well.

“Big brother!" The five year old’s arms immediately wrap around Theo and hugs him tightly as well. Theo hugs him back, unfazed, as if he's know him his entire life instead of this being their first time meeting.

"Oh my God…” You smile, the sight warming my heart.

Nadia seems to be having a similar reaction to you, grinning broadly as the two boys hug each other. She turns to look at your daughter for a moment, who just watches intently, taking in the sight of her brothers. She seems excited too, wiggling around in your lap to see them better.

"Do you want to meet Theo as well, little one?" Nadia asked her gently.

Your youngest nods shyly.

You put her on her feet, and the oldest child kneels down, anticipating a hug from the toddler.

Instead, the little one runs to Nadia and climbs into her lap for a hug instead. You and John both laugh, surprised by this.

Nadia smiles and wraps her arms around Linnie, hugging her tightly. Her embrace is comforting and reassuring to the bashful little one.

"It's nice to meet you, Theo." You finally smile at John and Nadia's son. "I'm Y/N."

Theo's smile grows as he sees you, his bright blue eyes studying you carefully almost like he's trying to memorize your appearance. "It's nice to meet you, too.”

"Can we play?!" Your oldest asked John’s oldest, then looked back to John for permission as well.

John nods quickly, giving him permission to play with his older brother. Nadia, meanwhile, just smiles and nods as well. "Theo has loads of Legos in his room. Go ahead. Get to know one another as well."

Your oldest smiles widely before following his “new” big brother to his room. Linnie just clings to Nadia's chest, looking between the two of you, trying to take everything in.

"I might just keep this little one." Nadia teased, hugging her a bit closer.

You can't help but smile. This isn't at all how you thought this would go.

It's so much better.

The boys are now playing in the room, building Legos and just enjoying each other's company. Your daughter seems content to be with Nadia, who's holding her in her lap, stroking her hair softly with her fingers and talking quietly with her.

You feel John take your hand under the table, squeezing it a bit as he sips his tea.

John leans in closely, whispering to you as Nadia speaks with your youngest. "Everything's goin’ well... right?"

You nod with a small smile, then sip at your tea as well. You watch as Nadia gets your little one to open up a bit, getting her to talk and giggle.

It only takes a few minutes before Nadia convinces the two year old to go into Theo's room and play with her big brothers, and to get to know Theo a bit. Now it's just her, John and you at the table.

John looks around and seems to sigh in relief, leaning back in his seat as he continues to squeeze your hand.

Nadia and you finally get a chance to have a proper conversation as the two of you continue to talk and sip on your tea.

Everything has gone so smoothly; especially now when Gabriel and Linnie seem to have just bonded with Theo like the three have known each other for years rather than just having met today.

John sighs a bit, smiling over at Nadia and you as she holds a conversation with you, seeming more than happy that things are working out.

For the first time in a long time, today he feels at ease, like everything's going just like it's supposed to go.

After spending the entire day together, You decide it's time to get the kiddos back to the rental and get them into bed.

John helps Nadia with the dishes after dinner while you help the kids clean up Theo's room after playing.

•••

You and John finish bathing the children after their long day and tuck them into the king bed once again.

John follows you into the other bedroom, shutting the door behind him as he goes over and sits on the edge of his bed. He just takes a deep breath in there, sighing as he rubs his face.

Today went well, sure. But that doesn’t exactly change anything between the two of you just yet.

You sit on John's lap, his arms instantly wrapping around your waist. It was just natural.

John just exhales. Your warmth against his chest helped him to feel at ease for a moment.

"Nadia is gorgeous." You sigh. "You didn't tell me that part."

John chuckles softly. "Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

"How can I not be?"

John rubs his thumb over the top of your thigh. "She's my past, love... We don't have... We've never had what you and I have."

You look at him, meeting his eyes. You try to find even a tiny hint of dishonestly.

That makes the next part harder.

“I don’t understand how you could have done that to them.” You start slowly. “The man I married isn’t a man that would just abandon his family for some random girl at a bar.”

You could feel John tense at your words. You stand up off of his lap now, pacing the room a bit.

“I didn’t abandon them-“

“You left your wife and child in a different country. What would you call that?” You retort.

“You don’t understand how things were between Nadia and I before I met you.” John insists. “It’s not like I left a happy marriage.”

“You still left your child.” You shake your head. “If you visit fucking Italy right now and meet a younger woman, would you leave Gabe and Linnie back in the states and only see them once a month? I always thought, ‘maybe John and I aren’t a good match, but at least he’s a good dad’… But I don’t know if I believe that anymore.”

“I’m a damn good dad. To all of them.” John defends himself through gritted teeth.

“You’ve been lying to my kids their whole lives!”

“Your kids?” John quirked an eyebrow at that.

“My kids.” You double down, arms crossed.

“I don’t wanna fight.” John sighs finally, rubbing his eyes. “Can we talk about this in the morning?”

“Fine.” You exit the room, going back to where the kids slept, leaving John alone.

<< prev next >>

#call of duty #captain john price #captain john price x reader #captain price #john price #cod smut #captain price smut #cod headcanons #cod mwii #cod x reader #price x reader #x reader #exhusband!price #dad!price #price headcannon #captain price fluff #price headcanons #anything for peepaw price 🙂‍↕️

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mrcrawly · 1 month ago

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House MD main cast headcanons

is most of this Wilson and House? yeah. do i feel bad about that? no.

House:

the biggest fucking music snob you have ever met in your entire life

collects CDs, vinyls, cassettes. has a really cool shelf/case for them too

says he hates animals but there is most definitely a stray cat in the alley by the hospital that he's always feeding

i get the feeling he was a kleptomaniac as a teenager

he's a huge asshole but sometimes he isn't actually trying to be one and will just say whatever comes to mind and forget that people can get offended

autistic and probably knows it

definitely makes the grandpa groaning noise every time he gets up from a sitting position

definitely pretends to sword fight with his cane

legitimately cannot stand to be touched 95% of the time. like it viscerally disgusts him or makes him physically uncomfortable like he's in pain (again: autism)

if he ever were to have a child he would be the world's biggest girl dad. im talking playing ponies and dress up with her and showing up to work with little smudges of nail polish on because she wanted to give him a makeover

would also be one of those fathers who is constantly showing off things their child did. his kid made him an ugly clay sculpture of an indeterminate animal? oh it's going on his desk. his kid made him a mug? he drinks out of it every day (or at the very least holding all his pens and pencils). his kid drew him a picture? it's getting framed in his office.

actually not bad with babies and infants. does he like them? no, but they like him. it's just not mutual

likes to sleep on people (Wilson)

his favorite movie is Rocky Horror Picture Show or some cheesy 80s film but definitely lies and pretends to be some fancy snot-nosed film critic

scared of clowns (don't question this one)

was an extremely sickly child but a very healthy and athletic adult which is why he was so adamant not to amputate his leg

got super drunk in his last year of med school and got a stupid tattoo on his ass. only Wilson knows about it

empathy doesn't come very naturally to him clearly but he hates it when Wilson is upset and even if he can't help he'll sit with him until he feels better

sugar fiend

Wilson:

listens mostly to 70s folk and soft rock but will listen to whatever House shows him too

also collects but it's something so stupid and insane and niche that no one understands what he's talking about when he brings it up

would be super ultra dedicated to it too. im talking he would go to conventions about his interests multiple times a year

has had multiple dogs, cats, and one or two reptiles

got the hyper-empathy autism instead of whatever the fuck House has going on

House tries to tell him all the time that he's autistic and he's unfortunately one of those people that's like "but i can't possibly be autistic im perfectly functional!"

is definitely one of those people that's like "my hip hurts...... storm's coming in" and House just stares at him like this 😐

is always the one that House is playing sword fighting

loves to be held as long as it's someone he's close to like im talking fully and entirely consumed with someone else's body

definitely finds relief from deep pressure (again: autism)

would also be a fantastic girl dad. there would be dozens of pictures of him passed out on the sofa with makeup smeared all over his face bc someone gave him a makeover when he was napping

actually very much wanted children and still wishes he had one

HORRIBLE hypochondriac. he understands it's irrational and won't speak about it out of embarrassment but he's especially like that about cancer. working in oncology does that to you unfortunately

loves babies and toddlers. im talking he does the stupid cooing baby voice and bounces and kisses them. babies also very much like Wilson

he has multiple siblings who all have multiple children so family reunions typically have a giant cuddle pile which is him being smothered half to death by his nieces and nephews

scared of heights

was a pretty sick child but spent like 60% of his time in college with a cold or some kind of bug

would love those stupid roadside tourist trap attractions. the biggest rubber band ball in the United States? oh he'd eat that shit up

has probably fished at least once in his life

whenever house tries to show him something on his phone he pulls out a pair of reading glasses and moves his head back and squints at the screen like a middle aged dad

cries about things a lot and gets a little embarrassed over it, usually goes to House if he's upset

would ask House if he would still be his friend if Wilson was a worm and gets very sad and pouty when House says no

Cameron:

dated a few women in college definitely

immune system of steel. has gone multiple years with literally nothing more than a little cough

carries around those little strawberry hard candies and chewy Werther's original caramels in her purse and offers them all the time

definitely kept a lot of her childhood stuffies

hates really bright lights because they give her bad headaches

would definitely fall victim to the "morning shed" trend but to a less extreme extent. like she buy a silk bonnet and mask and starts using a bunch of products before bed

wears rings because she likes to fidget with them

has super dry insanely frizzy hair so she oils it constantly

had super curly hair until she went to med school and it inexplicably became straight

fear of bugs

has a very extensive before-bed routine

has a cat but the cat has some weird stupid name that doesn't make any sense like Faucet or Pantaloons or something insane

has a really great metabolism but eats like a bird for lack of appetite

Chase:

in contrast has the weakest Victorian child immune system. he gets the flu or strep every year without fail and is incapacitated for at least a week

likes old American folk but likes pop and rap artists like Tyler the Creator and Frank Ocean, things like that

really sensitive skin so trying out any new product breaks him out sooooo bad

Mama's boy as a child (if there's something sad and heartbreaking about this in the show that i haven't seen yet REFRAIN!!!!!)

has a really extensive and exhausting hair routine but it gets oily anyway and is sooo pissed that Cameron has better hair than him

i have an inkling that he would be vegetarian or pescatarian (is that how you spell that i don't know) not for any health or environmental reason he just genuinely hates most meat except for fish and chicken

Foreman:

was a really big fat baby and didn't grow out of it until he was like 13

played some kind of sport in school but not like a mainstream one. like he swam or did lacrosse or something

became a neurologist because he's watched multiple aunts and uncles die of neurological conditions or stop functioning from loss of memory and cognition

VERY strict diet and takes lots of supplements that help carefully tracks his intake of

very hairy but was made fun of for it in high school so he shakes his entire body basically bald all the time

smells absolutely fucking fantastic. like coconut and sugar and vanilla and it lasts all day long

loves working with children and sometimes wishes he went into pediatrics

when House isn't in the room sometimes he cheers up the younger patients by doing dumb stuff, like blowing up a latex glove into a balloon or letting them write on his arm or something silly

hated needles as a kid and still has to turn his head away when he gets shots even though they don't make him that nervous anymore

also a sugar fiend so sometimes he bakes for the rest of the staff when there's a get together or some kind of function at the hospital

#cameron house md #house md #hmd #chase house md #foreman house md #dr foreman #dr cameron #gregory house #james wilson #robert chase #wilson house md #malpractice md #hatecrimes md #toxic old men yaoi #dr james wilson #more mouse bites #medicine drug

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popponn · 1 year ago

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so what if itoshi rin happens to stop by a cafe during a downpour, expecting it to be just another dingy cafe in the basement with a drink he doesn't even enjoy. fully prepared to book it out the moment the rain stops, rin doesn't pay attention at first to the person who goes up to the stage and sits, carrying a guitar.

but then, he hears your voice at the first pluck of string and he may have fallen in love a bit at the first melody.

of course, it doesn't hit him immediately at first. it begins with him sitting in silence until you finish the last song. then it's him visiting every time he could for two weeks straight. then it's him remembering that you play every wednesday and weekend, noon and evening. then it's you recognizing him after one show and then it's him learning your name as you do his.

and if his team and big brother wonder why he grows calmer and plays many untitled recordings—given by you, made by you—he will probably punch them out of panic. but, at least he owes them for making him realize that it's a crush, actually.

(or, rin falls in love with you, your song, and more.)

"...that's...you like someone...?" isagi speaks as if he is an incarnation of some demented fish. the moron even gapes like one.

rin tries his best not to reflexively throw the water bottle at hand. he would, if it isn't for a series of loud "the fuck"s and "no way"s that resound through the locker room. there is also a "bitch pay up! rinrin is in love, see?!" that suspiciously sounds like the blonde roach's voice, but honestly rin's biggest concern is his brother—who freezes like a statue and goes wide-eyed with a grace of a dying clam.

from the corner of his eyes, sae truly looks like he gets a heart attack and turns out rin still loves him enough to worry. but if the hunch that says that shitty brother is considering either giving pieces of advice or bees-and-birds talk there and then is right—rin is murdering him along with hiori yo who looks way too amused for his own good.

in the end, rin does end up throwing that bottle to isagi's face. rin revels in his pained squawk.

"i don't!" rin shouts, ignoring the creeping heat on his cheeks. for some reason he feels like he is lying but for now, he better socks sae in the face because that motherfucker looks like he is ready to speak.

you sit on the rough surface of the cement stairs. as you take your guitar out of its case, a train of thought walks through your mind. a few months ago, the thought of having someone to sit here with you, enjoying the sunset while you play is a bit too farfetched.

but then rin—the guy who keeps appearing at the cafe every time you play, the guy who is cool, the good-looking guy, the guy who always listens every time you speak or play—just enters your life.

rin sits one step below your feet and looks at you so attentively that it makes you feel special. as you adjust the instrument in your hand, you wonder if it's wrong for you to fall simply because of that.

it probably is—a part of you say. but, you know that part too was the one who made you doubt yourself weeks ago, before rin shuts it up with a simple admittance of his preference to your songs.

so, like a fool, you smile��lovesick, too honest, too obviously, "hey, have i ever played a love song for you?"

rin hums, filling in the silence as he seems to try to remember something. shifting his weight to lean on his elbow, he offers you a confident answer, "few times, in the cafe."

"but never in our solo shows, right?" you place your fingers on the strings. the word 'our' comfortably resting in your sentence.

you notice how rin's eyes soften and never have you ever wished that you didn't read things wrongly this much. "yeah," rin says, the orange of the sunset decorating his face in a way that makes you realize how pretty aquamarine suits him.

"then," you hope you will have courage, one day. "that shall be our song today."

notes: this hellsite ate this so out of spite i remade everything. also out of love because rinnie is babey. but yeah—rin who falls in love with musician you. the thought of a grumpy guy who listens to acoustic ballad played by his favorite person and cooking down immediately is cute to me. so here you have it, kinda post canon, kinda no plot just coming of age vibe kinda slice of life vibe. plus the thought of chance meeting in a cafe stage is cute. yeah i just think this idea is cute and i got bored in the train. this thing is a few weeks old actually, but. yeah. anyway another blurbs for now ❤ maybe i really should make masterlist for these stuffs 🐒 after the trip myb. but yeah, honestly rin feels soft for me since long ago. esp on the inside. and the thoughts of him getting "special" "only for him" stuffs feels good after all the "sae replacement" stuffs he went thru in canon. i think he is the type who will make you feel special because he really is all in for you. okay yeah my head kinda dizzy maybe i will add something more later. shout out to ms. lau/fey and mbak yu/ra yuni/ta for the songs that play in my head, it makes it better.

#bllk imagines #drabbles #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #blue lock fluff #blurbs #blue lock x reader #blue lock scenarios #bllk fluff #blue lock imagines #bllk scenarios #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #itoshi rin fluff #ARGH but yeah this published earlier than i thought have this #maybe one day soon #im fixing tags later skdhdh

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kypopkypop · 9 months ago

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"Your so beautiful" "I know isn't she" "I was talking about you"

Changbin fluff coming home from the hospital

Warning: Body insecurities, just gave birth, reader get really upset and doesn't feel totally better at the end (I don't know if that really a warning, mentions of nursing/breastfeeding a baby (tell me if I missed something)

She doesn't really feel that much better at the end because I think it's unrealistic for the reader to suddenly feel better after something someone else says. Sometimes your just upset and you need to be upset to make your self feel better in the future if that makes sense. Also don't mind what changbin says I'm bad at comforting people so I tried my best. I think it lacking a little something but I'll try and make it better as time goes on and I get more into writing.

You were sitting on your couch holding you 2 day old baby girl. You had just come home from the hospital a couple of hours ago.

Birth is a very painful, stressful, and interesting to say the least. Your body had changed so much during your pregnancy but it slowly changed over 9 months. Giving you some time to get used to it as your body got bigger.

Birth is nothing like that though. Even if your a little chubby everyone thinks your super cute when your pregnant. Whenever people look at a pregnant person you don't think "hmm I wonder how much weight she's gained" you usually think "aww she looks so good for being 9 months pregnant, her body's creating a life".

After birth everyone losses that mentality but your body doesn't change for at least a couple of weeks. Not to even mention all the different hormones and emotions going through your body during this time.

You think of how amazing your baby girl is and how you would go through labor a thousand time again to have her. Then you look in the mirror and see every part of your self that you liked before you got pregnant has changed.

After having your baby girl your anxiety and depression worsened. It was hard for you to think of one thing that liked about your self. Your self confidence before getting pregnant wasn't super strong or anything but you've never felt like this.

Your mama bear instincts came out. You got so anxious when ever someone else was holding your baby besides your husband Changbin of course. You loved seeing him with her. It almost felt like your only purpose in life was to take care of this baby. You know Changbin would never leave you but it scared you what he thought of you know that you thought your body was "ruined".

Looking at your wonderful baby girl as she's fast asleep in your arms your husband comes and sits next to you. He sits facing you with and arm next to your shoulders. He starts admiring you baby girl too.

Then he looks up at you. You get a little freaked out from how long he was looking at you. You were trying to figure out what would make him do that. Your scared to fully look at him. Scared he'll see how puffy your face is and your dark under eye circles.

"Your so beautiful" he says. You can really hear the emotion in his voice. It almost sounds like he could cry

"I know isn't she perfect"

"I was talking about you" even though you were scared you turned you face to see him. The love in his eyes and the smile that shows up on his face when he sees your full face

"I'm never gonna look the same though. What if my stomach always stays this big. What if....." you start tearing up and you stop talking before you fully start crying.

"Y/n I know you've changed a lot before you got pregnant vs now. But the way I see you will always be the same. I didn't fall in love with you because of your body. No physical changes would ever make me stop loving you. And I know your hormones is making things harder emotionally but I want you to know that I will always be there. And if you ever need a reminder of how gorgeous you are just tell me and I could go on and on. You think our daughter is beautiful and when I look at her I just see a mini you."

You had a lot of tears streaming down your face at this point. Everything was just so overwhelming you couldn't talk. All the emotions of how you felt about your self being contradicted by Changbins words made your head feel like it was gonna explode. But you were trying hard to not let out a sob because you didn't want to wake your daughter.

Almost as Changbin read your thoughts he picks up your baby and puts her in the baby swing. He comes back and scoots you over so your on his lap. "I know it gonna take more than just once for you to believe me but I'll say it as many times as you need." He said as he puts his head and hand on top of yours. You let out the sobs that you were holding in. You hid your face in the crook of his neck as he rocked you. It made you feel like the baby but it really did make you feel better.

After taking some deep breaths to calm down you pull away to look at your perfect husband. He wipes you tears and tells you some more how much he loves you.

He tells you to lay down and take a nap to help you calm down. And being tired wasn't helping with how stressed out you were. It scared you to leave taking care of the baby all to him but he assured you. Anytime you needed a nap during the day that he would take care of her. You have been up all night nursing her. He tries to do as much as he can during the night but when your the only one who can feed her there's not much he can do. So he wants to make it up to you.

He tucks you in on the couch. And as you almost fall asleep immediately you hear him say.

"I love you and good night beautiful"

Also this is my first time writing so don't judge me to hard 😄 also thank you for reading.

#stray kids #changbin stray kids #skz #skz changbin #changbin skz #stray kids changbin #changbin fluff #changbin imagines #changbin x reader #Dad skz #Skz dads #Dad changbin #Changbin would be such a good girl dad

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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 1 year ago

Text

comforting him

(cw: age gap 25/41; nightterrors, scars from injury, könig is having a shitty day, smoking, a bit of angst maybe, smut nsfw, mdni 18+)

the part before: going for a walk

It isn’t always fun and games, like the first time König had nightterrors while I was sleeping next to him.

The scream that woke me up. My disorientation until I knew what’s going on. His big body shaking next to mine. His arms trying to hold onto something. That something being me. And I talked to him, trying to get him grounded in reality again. Soft words, whatever came to mind.

After a while he calmed down, but he didn’t want to talk about it, which is… understandable.

And it happened again today, his pained shouts pulling me from my sleep. My smaller body hanging onto his bigger, trembling one, almost shoving me off me him when he snaps out of it.

I have to tell him at least five times that I’m okay, that he didn’t hurt me at all, that nothing happened to me. And even then, he doesn’t seem fully convinced.

We both don’t sleep the rest of the night. Just sitting in the living room, listening to music. I get up every time to change the vinyl or flip it to the B-side, then snuggling back into his lap.

He looks exhausted and I just want to take his discomfort away, but I don’t know how. So I just resort to softly stroking over his shoulders and back, calming him like that.

I try not to see the scars that adorn his body, cutting through the tattoos here and there. Sometimes destroying the motive that already was there. Sometimes seeming like they were worked into the design because they already were there before. My hands caress over his warm skin, trying not to linger too long in one spot. To not think about all the injuries, or about him going on another mission. Probably sooner than later.

He always holds me close to him when I sit on his lap. Just tonight it feels a little bit more like he’s holding onto me not the other way around. Not to slip away.

In the morning, I go to work, König slipping back under the covers while I get dressed.

"Get some more rest, hm?", I tell him, caressing over his cheek before giving it a little kiss. "If you can." I don't know what else to say.

He just looks so tired, dark circles under his eyes. For once looking his age – or even older.

He grabs my hand, pressing his lips to my knuckles, grunting softly instead of an answer. I press his fingers before slipping out of his hold and leaving the bedroom, quietly closing the door.

I drive myself to work, yawning a little more than usually while answering emails, getting myself an extra coffee. My mind coming back to him every so often, sighing. Remembering the panic on his face, the empty look in his eyes afterwards. Cut off, inwardly suffering, silent.

When I return home, looking to hug the big guy and give him a big kiss, ask him how he is doing, he is nowhere to be found.

"König?" I call out.

Where is he? I check all the rooms, kitchen and living room at first. There isn't a trace of him, no food cooking on the stove, his glasses set aside next to the book he's currently reading.

Mimi is sleeping on the couch, the little kitty basking in the sun that is falling in through the window.

I think for a moment, almost running upstairs, but no. He wouldn't be up there, he doesn't use the office and I can't hear the shower. So I head downstairs, to the home gym. Usually, he works out while I'm at work, already showered and fresh when I return. But I don't know where else he would be. He surely would have texted me if he had gone out.

I crack the door open a little, peaking my head in. And there he is, wrecking the punching bag that's hanging from the ceiling.

Thud thud thud.

Thwack.

His fists hitting the leather repeatedly, before smacking the palm into it.

The headset is sitting fast on his head, his hair loosely tied together. His shorts tight around his thighs, his muscle shirt sweaty like the rest of him. And I try to ignore how good he looks like that.

His movements come to a halt, seeing me in the corners of his eyes, only doing a half-turn in my direction.

"Hey, how are yo-", I start, but he interrupts me, pushing one of the headphones back.

"What?", he says, louder than necessary and the impatience in his voice startles me.

"I was just-", I repeat, but the look on his face shuts me up as he finally meets my gaze. I feel like I'm intruding, disturbing him when I shouldn't be, and for a moment I don't even know what to say. Startled.

He doesn’t say anything, just stares.

My mouth drops open, hoping the right words come out, but they don't. The way he looks at me... I can't deal with. The simmering anger, the arrogance the way his chin tilts up, the brows more furrowed than I've ever seen them before.

I shake my head, breaking the eye contact for a moment, just to get away from his stare. "Uh, just- I'm sorry for disturbing you.", I finally press out, slipping back, heading out the room again.

Before I turn around, I see the anger on his face dissipate into frustration and something else I can't put my finger on it.

I rush out the door and up to living room, pacing around until Mimi comes up to me, and I pick the kitty up. Snuggling the little furball. Contemplating if it might be better to pack up my stuff. Give him his space.

I shake my head. No, that would be shitty too. Running away because he has a shitty day.

I sigh. I feared that something like that might happen when I was hesitant to go stay with him. And it's not like he shouldn't be allowed to have shitty days. I just don't really know what to do about them. Yet.

I hear steps, heavy thuds on the stairs, coming to a halt, and I turn to look.

He just stands there, on the top stair, almost hitting his head on the staircase above. The headphones around his neck, his hair falling down into his face. Just looking at me, his arms hanging to his sides, his shoulders slumped down. The distance between us too great, but he doesn't dare come closer.

"I'm sorry, Liebes.", he says, his voice hoarse, the words quieter than I would have thought. Defeat and apology in his expression.

I just stand there, looking at him. I mean, I knew he had troubles. The self-imposed lonesomeness. And I'm not talking about staying home a lot, preferring to be by himself. The stuff about his work that he doesn't want to talk about. The nightterrors, just like today. I don't fully believe him when he says, he doesn't have them often.

The scowl on his face when he thinks I'm not looking. The simmering anger that's seemingly always there. Directed at himself rather than the people around him. Well, most of the time at least.

"It's okay.", I finally say.

He shakes his head, making a step forward, just a small one. "It's not." He sighs. "I'm usually better at hiding... it." Another step. "I'm not angry with you, I swear."

I sigh too. I knew that but apparently, I still needed to hear him say it. A soft sad smile stalks onto my face as I come closer until I'm standing before him.

"You shouldn't need to hide it.", I say, snuggling into his chest, pressing myself against him, still holding Mimi.

He closes his arms around me, embracing us both. He's sweaty, but I don't care right now. I need this closeness.

"You're here because I broke your bed, not to babysit a manchild.", he says flatly, but the edge in his words jabbing at himself is still obvious. And I don't want to point out the flaws in them. I’m not here because he broke my bed. This isn't at all what this is about, but he still seems to be in whatever spiral he was just moments ago.

"I'm not.", I answer. "Something is troubling you, that doesn't make you a child nor does me asking you about it make me a babysitter." He doesn't say anything, his arms only hugging me a little tighter. "So... You wanna talk about it?", I ask.

I can feel him hesitate and then shake his head. "No, I'm..." He breaks off. "I just have to deal with it, okay?" He softly strokes over my hair. "You don't need to worry about me."

"But I still do.", I say, softly, finally looking back up at him. I can't stand the defeated look on his face. He averts his eyes, hugging me closer.

And we just stand here in the living room. The three of us in a hug, only our soft breaths cutting through the silence.

Before he breaks it. "I actually got the information on the next mission.", he says, his voice steadier now.

I perk up. "And?"

"I'm leaving next week.", he answers.

I swallow, hard. "Which day?", I want to know, so I can count the days.

"Wednesday." So six days, including today. Shit.

"Okay." I press myself into him, Mimi still in between, and she meows. Tearing me from my dwindling thoughts.

"Oh, I'm sorry, baby.", I coo, pressing a kiss to her head, and she meows again, freeing herself from my hold, jumping down to the floor.

He takes the chance to pull me flush against him. "Me too.", he mumbles into my hair.

My arms wrap around his waist, my hands stroking down his back. Hugging him back, thinking about what to do.

If he doesn't wanna talk about it, then maybe a distraction will help ease his mind. Or at least take his mind off things. And mine too, now that I know he’ll be leaving.

"Some, uh, friends of mine asked if I wanna go out for some drinks.", I start. "We could join them if you want to." The tips of my fingers brushing over his lower back. "We can also stay home, of course, you know – whatever you prefer. But they actually wanted to go to the pub where we met." I smile up at him, remembering that moment when he got my attention with a simple compliment of my bandshirt.

"That..." He hesitates, but returns the smile then, although meekly. "That actually sounds like a good idea."

I get onto my tiptoes to finally get the kiss I came looking for earlier. He meets me halfway, kissing me, and the way his lips feel against mine sets me a little more at ease.

"Shower first?", he says then, his eyes intently on mine.

"Yes, stinky.", I quip which makes him laugh a little before I pull him with me up the stairs.

I hear him sigh behind me, a deep defeated tone, and I stop in my tracks again, but he just lifts me and carries me to the bathroom.

After the shower he looks refreshed, in a fresh band shirt and his favorite pair of cargo pants. Smelling like his usual shampoo, and he even put on a little bit of aftershave.

He's looking a bit more like himself. Especially when he puts on his leatherjacket, flicking his hair back with a trained move of his arm, so it isn't stuck in the collar, but falls down his shoulders.

The frown on his face is still a little more etched in than usually. It lightens up a bit when we sing along to Slipknot's "Before I forget" on the drive to the pub, and even more so when we join my friends there.

After the general introductions we get some drinks and settle down at the table. My hand in his, underneath the tabletop.

"Can I try? Just a sip." He points at my drink, an orangy-red liquid, more sweet than sour.

I pull one eyebrow up. "Sure, but I'm not sure you're gonna like it."

But he already took my glass and gulps half of it down.

My jaw drops. "You said just a sip!", I complain, loudly.

He smiles at me, a lop-sided apology, the smile that never lets me be mad at him, before his face contorts into a grimace. "You were right, I don't like it.", he comments.

The nerve. He sees my exasperated expression and laughs. His big hand grabs the back of my head and he pulls me in to press a big kiss to my cheek, and the public display of affection makes the butterflies in my stomach flutter and my exaggerated exasperation disappear.

"I'll buy you a new one, okay?", he says, pulling away, getting up and heading to the bar.

I shake my head, rolling my eyes, unable to keep the grin off my face. Looking after him, my eyes are panning from his broad shoulders down his back until they land on his tight ass as his hips sway. Blatantly ogling him, but I can't help it.

Robin’s hand on my forearms pulls my attention to them, and they start to tell me about their newest obsession: little, tiny octopuses. They’re showing me pictures and videos of the cute and small creatures when König gets back. He sets the new drink onto the table in front of me, I glance at him, mouthing 'thank you'. And he just winks.

It doesn't take long until he joins the conversation with the younger guys at the table which quickly turns into a trip to the billiard table. And my friends come in all shapes and sizes, still König towers over all of them. His tall stature bending down over the side of the table to line up the ball, sinking it in the right hole with precision. He is an insertion specialist after all.

Robin and I are laughing and giggling, making the stupid jokes we always do, and I’ve almost forgotten about the troubles today, getting myself another drink.

I look over to the guys again and König’s talking to Dan. Bits and pieces I pick up are telling me that they're talking about some soccer teams and matches. I grin to myself because I know how glad Dan must be that he finally got someone around who's interested in that, because none of us are.

He catches me staring at him, the corner of his mouth tipping up in a smirk. I blow him a little kiss before I take my jacket and head out the front door for a smoke.

Moments later, the door behind me croaks and I turn around. The big guy is standing in the entryway, the slightest hint of a smile on his lips.

“You smoke?” His deep voice fills the silence of the breezy night.

I sigh, juggling the bag of tobacco, rolling papers and filters in my hands. “Used to, but sometimes when I’m out with friends… or stressed… I still go for a smoke.”, I answer, a wry apologetic smile stalking onto my face.

He nods like he understands, putting his hand in his pocket, leaning beside me on the wall. A simple gesture, but when it comes to him, I find even the most minute of movements hot.

“Me too, especially when I’m at work… or having one of those days. Like today.”, he says, the smile turning lop-sided, and after a pause adds: “So… Can I have one as well?”

I chuckle, hiding my slight surprise. “Sure. Should I or do you know how to roll one?”, I ask in return.

His extended hand, the palm turned up, and a little tilt of his head are his only answer. I hand him a filter and a rolling paper with some tobacco, getting myself the same items before I put the tobacco baggie back into my purse.

When I turn to him again, my attention gets pulled in by his hands that softly take the little paper, putting the filter on the right side, pushing some of the tobacco in. Taking it between his middlefingers and thumbs, rolling it up in a swift trained motion. The ease with which he does it is impressive, even more so considering how tiny the cigarette is compared to his hands.

Then he lifts it to his mouth, his tongue darting out, licking over the paper in one swift go, to make it stick.

My eyes go wide, my breath halts in my throat, and I have to remember myself that I need to breathe.

He sees my expression which pulls a laugh from him. “Never thought you’d be jealous of a cigarette, hm?”

That pulls me from my trance, I laugh and playfully smack his arm. “Oh, stop it.” I shoot him a look, my eyes sparkling at him while I tease: “I know, I’ll be getting that as soon as we come home.”

He lights his cigarette with the zippo he always carries in the right outer pocket of his cargo pants, taking a drag and blowing the smoke into the air. “Don’t you know it.”, he says, the devilish smirk coming out. His hand drops down, pinching my butt playfully, and I yelp a little bit, almost dropping my unrolled cigarette.

“König!” But he just grins down at me.

Then I finally manage to roll it, stick the filter end between my lips and search for my lighter.

“Here, let me.”, he says, holding out the zippo in front of my face, the clank of metal and then the familiar snap, before a little flame burns at the top.

I shoot him a thankful look and lean forward until the flame catches on and the cigarette burns. I take the first drag, inhaling it deeply.

He puts the lighter away again, and I fall against him, resting my head against his chest while his arm drops around me, pulling me into him. Sharing this moment together while we smoke our cigarettes.

“To think that this all started because I complimented you on your shirt…”, he says, seeming a little bit caught up.

I laugh, the light sound getting carried away into the quiet night sky. “Is a little crazy, right?”

He sighs. “Yeah.”

We fall silent, puffs of smoke inhaled and exhaled. Soft noises from inside the bar making it less quiet. The air around us is thick with things we don’t say.

I think, I like you more than I ever thought I would.

I might even be falling in love with you.

And that scares me.

We excuse ourselves a little early because honestly, I'm tired from not having slept all that much tonight, and the few drinks I had made me a little tipsy. And he kind of promised to eat me out when we get home.

We get to the car and – as so often – he opens the door for me. I smile at him and climb into the seat, but he steals another kiss. One that has me panting a little harder. He pulls away and rounds the car to get into the driver side.

I sit back, turning on the music as he starts driving.

Looking at him. The streetlamps light up his face every so often, casting the one side in shadows.

Wondering what might be going on in his head, the stoic expression not giving anything away.

Whatever went on in his mind today seems forgotten about, he seems like his usual self again. But maybe he’s just hiding it? Or it helped going outside for once, and I ask myself if maybe the time we first met, he also went out to distract himself.

And I don’t even know why, but my heart starts hurting a bit.

How is it like when he is alone at home? Does he talk to nobody?

“What is it?”, he asks, not taking his eyes off the road.

I look away and shake my head. “Nothing.”

“I’ve been around long enough to know that it’s never nothing.”, he says with a little sigh, an understanding smile on his face.

“Just thinking.”, I say plainly.

The smile gets a little wider. “Hmm, thinking, that’s a dangerous thing.”, he says, sounding earnest and joking at the same time.

The corners of my mouth tilt up, of their own volition. “It is.”

His hand lands on my thigh, squeezing it, and the little gesture soothes me. Pushing the thoughts away as I relax into the leather seat.

His thumb grazes over the sensitive inside of my thigh, and I shoot him a look. The small grin is the only hint that he’s doing it on purpose, only getting wider as he brushes further up until his hand is between my thighs. My fingers clasp over his, but I don’t pull them away. Shamelessly grinding against the palm, relishing the delicious friction and paying him back for his cheeky move. Now it's his turn to shoot me a look.

The sleepiness is almost forgotten about, and the slight tipsiness does nothing but make me even hotter and hornier.

Parking the Mercedes at his usual spot in the garage, he cuts off the engine and I jump out the car before he can even get out and open the door for me.

I take a few steps back, biting my lip, trying to hide the grin that stalks onto my face as he makes his way around the car. His gaze is on me, looking at me from under his brows, unbridled desire in his eyes.

His broad shoulders seem even wider with his signature leatherjacket, his hair moves, the long strands falling down his shoulders, while he comes closer with long strides until his boots bump into my converse and his arms close around me. He almost towers over me, leaning me back in his embrace. His lips crash into mine while my hands grab him, trying to get even closer to him.

We don't say anything, but I can feel the simmering intensity as he deepens the kiss and picks me up, making the last few steps into the house. My legs close around his waist when he pushes through the door, and we're both not breaking the kiss, desperate for more.

I think back to the first time we hooked up, how he carried me upstairs to my flat. How the anticipation and excitement simmered in my veins back then, and his touches still consume me and make me wanna devour him, but it has become so familiar at the same time. How his fingers press into my thighs, grabbing the soft pillows. How his nose nudges against mine when we kiss. How he swallows up the soft noises I make, tasting every single one of them. His chest against mine, the plane of muscles warm and pillowy.

His scent, his taste. How the long strands of his hair feel as I run my fingers through them.

He sets me down on the dresser in the hallway, pulling my shoes off, kicking his boots away and getting rid of the leatherjacket. He doesn't have to say it, I know what he wants, and pop the button on my pants, lower the zipper. His hands grab the waistband, helping me get it off. My pants and panties fall to the floor before he drops to his knees, his eyes fixed on my pussy as he spreads my legs and places them over his broad shoulders.

He pushes his hair out of his face and dives in, his mouth pressing against my lips, and I moan as his tongue darts out and licks me for the first time.

My hands hold onto the surface beneath me, my body slumping back into the wall, the sensation of the cold brick against my shoulders,while he starts to eat me out. Soft groans and mewls drop from his lips, getting lost in the slick and warmth. His lids are closed, his lashes adorning his cheeks, seeming almost solemn. The stern expression he usually wears on his face nowhere to be found, the frustration that was plaguing him today slowly dissipated throughout the evening and I can't find any of it left in his eyes when he looks up at me. Finding mine, holding the gaze.

His nose is buried in the soft curls as his mouth closes around my clit, sucking, licking over it with his flat tongue, coaxing moan after moan from me.

My hands dart out, the one grabbing his fingers that press into my thigh, the other caressing down the side of his face.

"Fuck, can't get enough of you.", he breathes, licking me again. Lapping up the wetness, desperately tasting me.

My eyes turn up, breaking the eye contact, my thighs are starting to shake and I come on his tongue. His hands are steadying me, so I don't fall off the dresser, my body writhing, my head pressing against the hard wall behind me. My moans resound in the small space around us, the stimulation making me lose my mind.

He doesn't stop until I grab his hair, pulling him up to me. He grunts, reluctantly breaking away from my pussy, capturing my mouth in a searing kiss that I answer with the same frenzy. Tasting myself on his lips.

He hastily unbuckles his belt, freeing his erection that has been straining against the zipper, hard, the tip smeared with pre-cum. Breaking the kiss to look down between our bodies. He grabs himself by the base, slowly dragging it over my pussy. Finding the entrance and dipping into the wetness.

His eyes are intently on mine, my mouth falling open as he stretches me, my eyebrows turning up. His jaw drops, his expression mirroring mine.

He's so close, our panting breaths intermingling. A choked moan rising up my throat when he fills me, the tip pressing up against my cervix.

My legs close around his waist, pulling him closer. He lifts me off the dresser, but we don't get far as he presses me up against the wall, steadying me with his arms. Fucking into me, his hips pushing forward.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck.", he curses, the desperation in his voice sending a pang of need between my thighs.

I hold onto his shoulders, my back pressed against the wall behind me, meeting his movements.

"So tight, Liebes.", he grunts. "Driving me crazy."

A little laugh shakes me before him bottoming me out makes me moan again. "What should I say, huh?", I shoot back, teasing him.

He halts and captures my face between his thumb and pointer. "Oh, but you always take me so well.", he tells me, knowing what those words do to me. And they don’t miss their impact.

I shake my head, trying to ignore the tingle running down my spine. “Fitting together like two puzzle pieces.”, I joke, which pulls a deep hearty laugh from his throat.

“Well put.”, he says, with a twinkle in his eyes.

He hoists me up again, making our way to the bedroom. His dick moving inside me with every single one of his steps, and I sigh as I snuggle into the crook of his neck.

He slips out of me and almost throws me down into the mattress, quickly getting off his clothes, and I pull my shirt above my head, fully naked now. I lie down, my belly against the sheets.

The mattress dips down as he drapes his body over me, his warm skin against mine. I look back at him, propping myself up on my forearms. Inviting him in, and the hurry drops away again.

He brushes my hair out the way, looking into my eyes, as his dick slides between my thighs. My mouth falls open, little panting breaths dropping from my lips, when he drags him himself back and forth, his length pressing against my slick pussy.

He slips into me, filling me up again, and I relish the feeling, familiar but still intense every time. He pulls me up, his hand grabbing the back of my head, kissing me. His lips softly against mine as he backs off and presses into me again. Slowly, savouring how I take every inch, until he's fully seated inside me. Rolling his hips, almost lazily.

Soft, so soft.

“Feels so good.”, I mumble into the kiss, thrusting my ass back, meeting his languid strokes.

Losing myself in the hazy pleasure, the slow and sweet fuck. Moving in unison until his hips are rutting forward, stuttering, as he loses the rhythm. Still kissing me while he comes inside me.

"Ngh, Liebes...", he grunts against my lips, pushing in one last time, slumping down on me, and I feel his weight on me for a moment.

I cradle his face, my thumb coasting over his jaw, wiping away a drop of sweat. His panting breaths fill the room, and I can't help but smile. Pressing another kiss to his lips, a small sweet one.

It seems to stir him awake and he doesn't stay slumped over me, propping himself up on his hands again, smirking down at me.

He pushes into me again, my mouth shaping into an O, my eyebrows turning up, and I can feel the wetness seep out of me as his dick fills me up again.

The question on my face must be clear when I crane my neck to look up at him.

"Didn't think it was over, did you?", he drawls, starting to fuck me harder. "You can give me one more, Hexe."

"Oh fuck.", I mumble as his hips snap forward, colliding with my ass. I hold onto his arm, steadying myself, my nails burying into his muscly forearms.

I remember how he was careful with me at first, afraid to break me. How he doesn't have such reservations anymore. Thrusting into me at an almost punishing pace. Trusting that I would use my safeword if it in fact was too much.

And I remember how I imagined how fucking him must be before we did it for the first time, and how it compares to reality.

Me splayed out on the bed, my front to the mattress. Him kneeling over me, his knees framing my ass as he's buried balls deep in my pussy.

Grabbing my hips, positioning me to fuck me even deeper. Sliding in and out of me, bottoming me out which pulls whimpers from me every time. Making me lose my mind quickly.

His hair whipping back and forth when his hips snap forward, his groin pressing up against the soft pillows of my ass repeatedly.

“Good girl, oh fuck.”, he praises me. “Taking me so well…” He lets go of me, his hand coming down on my butt, and I cry out at the sting.

Alternating between my left and right cheek, reddening the skin with every slap.

My hands are fisting the sheets beneath me, and my eyes are rolling back, lewd sounds getting pulled from my throat, as he plunges his dick into me again and again.

"Fuck, König...", I sigh, his name getting swallowed up when my face gets pushed into the sheets again.

"Say it again.", he grunts, but the hard thrusts of his hips unintentionally shut me up as he leans forward again, pressing me into the mattress. "Need to hear you say it, Liebes."

And I do say his name as I come once again, the sounds turning into uncontrollable moans, and he is not stopping until I'm a writhing shivering mess beneath him and he is pressing sweet kisses to my face again.

He pulls me with him as he rolls off me, bringing my body close to his until I'm draped over him. Basking in the afterglow, pressing myself up against his warm chest, our heavy breaths intermingling.

I remember how we joked about him keeping up, him making a comment about how I should be concerned to keep up with him, and most of the time he's right, but seeing him a little out of breath after we just had sex. Just like right now. It makes me feel all kinds of things. Deliciously dirty and heartwarmingly fluffy ones.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, I'm feeling so sleepy.", I mumble into a yawn. The sleepiness caught up and is taking over me now.

He pulls me closer, pressing a kiss to my temple, his arms engulfing me. "That's okay, Liebes, just sleep.", he whispers, and I close my eyes, pressing my cheek to his pillowy chest.

"G'night..."

"Gute Nacht."

~ more in the Masterlist ~

#metalhead!könig #she likes the dark #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #könig x reader #tw: age gap

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hellisharchive · 1 year ago

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﹒﹒﹒saintly guardian

➤ Your life could be better, but you were alive, that's all that mattered. After an extremely shitty day, you were shocked as an angel appeared in your livingroom claiming to be your new guardian angel from Heaven. At least he was cute

➤ 18+, implied sex, accidental voyeurism

➤ Saint Peter x human!GN!reader

➤ This is a long one! Hope you enjoy! Also my shit is never beta read so forgive any mistakes

You sighed loudly as you collapsed on your couch, so glad to finally be home after one of the worst days you've had in a while. Digging into your food, you browsed Netflix trying to find something good to watch so you could just sit back, eat, and relax. Even though you had an entire watchlist, nothing seemed appealing as you just threw on a movie you already watched ages ago just to have something on.

After finishing your food, you walked into the kitchen that was just a few steps away as your apartment was a studio, you put the dishes in the sink to clean later and refilled your drink. As you poured the liquid into the cup, a bright light suddenly engulfed you, causing you to flinch and get your drink all over the counter and floor. Covering your eyes, you gripped the glass as you wondered what the hell was that? After a few seconds, you deemed it to be safe and slowly removed one hand and opened your eye. Turning around, you gasped as you saw what looked to be an angel with white blonde hair and a worried expression looking at you. You couldn't believe your eyes.

"I'm sorry if I scared you! I didn't mean to are you ok?" The last sentence was rushed as he panicked, quickly walking over and making sure you're alright as he gently grabbed your shoulders. What was going on? Removing your other hand and opening your other eye, you just stared in shock and awe. You were nervous, very nervous. Were you dreaming? Did you die somehow? Your breathing got heavy as your mind raced with a million different possibilities when the angel cupped your face and spoke to you again, making sure you were looking at him.

"Hey, hey don't be scared! Oh Peter it's your first day as a guardian angel and you already scared your human..." He spoke to himself, very scared himself that he scared you. Wait- guardian angel?

"You're my...guardian angel?" You stared at him in even more shock. Angels are real. Guardian angels are real. And he was yours. Who even was he? You placed your hands on his shoulders as he smiled, it was a soft and awkward smile.

"Yes! Angels are sent down to Earth to watch over humans every so often to make sure they're on a path set for Heaven! You just so happened to be my assignment this time!" His mood instantly switched to happy and excited to talk about why he was sent down. You still were in a state of shock, slowly calming down from the inital scare as he removed his hands from your face and grabbed yours from his shoulders, holding them. The hold was firm yet gentle.

"And if this isn't all some dream...what is your name? Can I know the name of my guardian angel?" You spoke carefully, almost as if speaking any louder would fracture this whole interaction and you would wake up passed out on the couch. He then let your hands go and you started to mess with your fingers, biting your lip as you waited for his answer.

"Saint Peter" Saint Peter...that name was familiar. Wait- was this the same Saint Peter from the bible? You were familiar with Christianity but wasn't a believer, however you still couldn't fully believe depsite an angel straight up holding you.

"Oh well...my name is ___. Although, you probably knew that" You cracked a small smile yourself, the tension finally snapping and you started to accept the fact that this was real. There was no way you were tripping, you never did any hard drugs and barely drank alcohol, you were completely sober.

"Yeah, I uh...I did. Sorry if that's weird! I just-"

"No, no! It's fine! I would expect Heaven to know everything about me...God at least...or the other angels. Honestly you appearing out of nowhere was the weirdest thing that happened in my entire life so, you knowing my name is nothing" You chuckled and you watched as he chuckled with. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, you realized that he was incredibly cute. He was adorable!

"I'm still so sorry about that! This is the first time I ever was assigned to someone so...I got a little excited! Is there anything I can do to make up for it?" God- can you still say that?- he was the cutest thing ever. Oh no, were you forming a crush on him? On an angel? Your guardian angel?

"Hello? Are you there?" Peter's voice awakened you from your thoughts, shaking your head, you realized he was only a few inches from your face. Flustering and face warming, you jumped back and held your chest, damn! He was close! Too close!

"Oh shit I'm so sorry again! You weren't responding and I got concerned because you were staring off into space and I can't believe I scared my human again and-" You placed a hand on his shoulder as he started to ramble and look at the floor and you gave him a warm smile.

"It's ok Peter! You just wanted to make sure I was alright and you're new at this. If it makes you feel better- I'm glad I was your first assignment" His face went from anxious to awe, he stared at you with wide eyes and pale face turning to gold. Did angels have gold blood? Was he blushing?

"I- t-thank you! But seriously, if there's anything I can do to make up for scaring you twice now, please let me know!" He was so insistent on making it up to you, it made your heart do flips and butterflies form in your stomach. He might have been the only angel you've met, but he was certainly the cutest.

"I'll get back to you on that"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━・

One month had passed since Saint Peter revealed himself as your guardian angel and your life hadn't gotten any better, well, it still sucked but he was always there to cheer you up. You couldn't help but slowly form an all-consuming crush on him, how couldn't you? He was the most pure being you ever met and he was always there to make you feel better after a bad day.

However, the crush didn't stop there. It turned into something so downright sinful you couldn't bear to let Peter know that you wanted to fuck him. But how could you not? He was so innocent and pure it made your heart do flips and butterflies always swarmed in your stomach when he was around. Honestly it was hard not to just grab him and kiss him and touch him. But you didn't want him to do things he wasn't comfortable with and without consent. And you also didn't want to risk going to hell. So you kept it secret and all your rather...intimate nights alone thinking about him.

The day was going normal, it was a day without Peter as he didn't stay with you 24/7 but that wasn't a big deal. Sure, you missed him a lot when he was gone, but you're sure he had duties back up in Heaven too. You sighed as you sat on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone before becoming bored of that and tossing it on the couch. You stare at it as you pick up the remote and try to find something on the TV to watch, also ending up being in a mindless state of searching. Then, you thought of Peter and how adorable he was, and then, you were horny.

"Fuck" You cursed at how easily you got horny, especially for him. You had a choice- be pent up and force yourself to not masturbate, or masturbate. "Shit," standing up, you tossed the remote on the counter and grabbed your phone, heading to your bedroom.

Shutting the door, you sighed and put your phone on the nightstand before opening the drawer to reveal the plethora of sex toys. It was a decent amount- you had needs that needed met. However shamefully, you had gotten a few more because of Peter. Laying down and leaning back on your pillows, you had grabbed one and placed it on your sex, turning it on and biting your lip as you started to masturbate. Moaning Peter's name, you thought of him and it made you feel so dirty.

Unfortunately, you didn't hear the door open until it was too late, the sound of gasping made you freeze. Wiping your head up, you saw as a panicking Peter had covered his eyes and turned away from you in the doorway.

"I'm so sorry I heard you call my name and I thought you were calling for me I'm so sorry!" The poor angel was entirely gold- he did mention that angels have gold blood- as he blushed at the fact that he caught you masturbating about him. Now you're the panicking one as you shove the toy away under your sheets. You couldn't bring yourself to say a single word before you watched him hurry away, however, you brought yourself to say one.

"Wait!" You held out your hand as he froze, breathing heavy, you said it again as you considered carefully about what you were going to say.

"I'm the one that should be sorry! I-I never should have thought about you like that...I...understand if you don't want to be my assignment anymore..." Shame flushed through your veins as the weight of the situation finally hit. This wasn't some silly crush for a normal human guy- it was of an angel who was the most purest being you had ever known. He probably thinks you're disgusting now, someone that does deserve to go Hell. It was silent for a good while, you're not sure for how long, but the one who broke it was Peter.

"I...you're not the only one. And it's wrong I know I know!" He turned and removed his hands from his face, causing you to stare at shock at what he said. He felt the same?

"Angels should never fall for humans but you were so cute and I just had these dirty thoughts I couldn't get rid of and-" He was speaking so fast but you managed to cut him off before he could ramble even more.

"And why can't you get rid of them?" You teased, confidence suddenly rising as you smirked at the angel. Crawling towards him on the bed, he stood completely still as you got closer, wearing nothing but your shirt.

"I-uhm you just do something to me I don't know why! You're adorable and attractive and I just...I shouldn't...pleasure myself it's wrong!" Bless his soul...you pat the bed and said "come here" Peter gulped as he obeyed, soon standing right up against the edge. He stared at you like a deer in headlights and it was the cutest thing. Then, you decided to be bold. You rushed up and grabbed his neck, pulling him into a kiss. At first he didn't move, then he started to kiss back a little. You could tell he didn't have much experience with other people if any at all. Your heart was beating as fast as can be as he shakily wrapped his arms around you. After a few minutes, you pulled away, completely out of breath and he was too. Taking his arms off of you, he looked down at his mouth before putting one of his hands up to lightly touch his lips.

"I think I'm in love with you" You barely heard it, but it made your heart swell. That was your key to grab him again and drag him down, kissing him even more than before running your hands through his hair. This time, he was more eager to kiss you back, he was ready.

"Call this the favor. You're not going to be able to walk after tonight"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━・

You awoke not with nobody by your side, but with your guardian angel all deshelved sleeping so soundly. That was the best sleep of your life. You had to untangle your body from his as you quietly shuffled to the bathroom to pee. You almost didn't want to leave him, but your bladder was too loud to ignore. Kissing his forehead, you made your way to the kitchen with only a large shirt on as you started to make breakfast.

The smell must have woken Peter up as he walked into the kitchen as well, yawning and rubbing his eye. Hair all down and messy, one wing up and one wing down, and his body was covered in your marks from last night and he was wearing nothing but his underwear he must have shrugged them on as they weren't even on all the way. Smiling, you watched as he sleepily slid into a dinning room chair.

"Good morning, my sweet angel"

#saint peter #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #saint peter x reader #adam x reader #lucifer x reader #vox x reader #valentino x reader

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screeblees · 2 years ago

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Yandere Manipulating Boyfriend x Kidnapped Reader Headcannons

Yandere Manipulating Boyfriend is Male and Kidnapped Reader is Gender Neutral

Been a bit since I've posted! I was in a bit of a slump and got hit with creative juices - definitely wrote way more than usual!

I hope this isn't too long, I kinda love this idea if you can't tell :3

Find my Masterlist here !

Please enjoy!!<33

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who pretends to be in a normal relationship.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who stalked you for months after his attention was captured, taking photos and videos all for blackmail (among other things…)

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who broke in and drugged you with some sleeping pills, he knew you hadn’t been sleeping well after all!

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who took most of your belongings with him once he kidnapped you, mixing everything with his home’s own décor to make it look like you’d lived there for months, ensuring details such as two toothbrushes, your hygiene products being in a similar place to where they were in your own home, two sets of dishes in the sink, any work documents or notes being scattered about the desk, any little detail he could think of to make it look like you had went about your day just the night prior.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who knew you wouldn’t believe it, but at the very least you would doubt your own mind, which was exactly what he wanted.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who assured he removed all sharp (or potential escape) objects from your shared bedroom, the windows are locked and tinted and you are laid in your bed while he cuddles you, waiting on you waking up.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who acted confused and worried from the moment you woke up, he really had no idea why you didn’t remember your loving boyfriend, you had been living with him for months!

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who would restrain you if you fight him, explaining it away by him being scared of you in your “amnesic” state and not wanting you to hurt yourself or go outside and get lost since you seemingly don’t remember anything about the largest part of your life.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who has written an entire book’s worth of stories to fully flesh out your relationship; how you met, how you kept bumping into one another, your first, second, third and-so-on dates, moving in together, the list goes on!

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who tells quite detailed (made up) stories of your time together, all taken from his previous writings which proving immensely helpful in avoiding contradicting himself and explaining why he knows everything about you!

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who crushes any pesky stray thoughts that may lead you to doubt him swiftly and completely. (“The lack of pictures? Oh, well, I’m pretty self conscious so I prefer taking pictures of you! My favourites are the candid ones, you just look so peaceful!”) You end the conversation glad that you asked, not realising that he had technically completely avoided the question and he later returns with a few pictures of important anniversaries which he commissioned from a very talented photoshopper.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who confiscates your phone, citing that you shouldn’t be on social media while recovering, all that negativity may impact your health! He may message your friends, family and workplace, just to let them know you’ll be unreachable for the time being, that’s all! (and then if you have a few people less in your contacts and a few more in your blocked list then who’s to say what happened?)

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who spoon-feeds you, refusing to let you do more than sit in bed, rest, and talk to him. For the time being he’s keeping you to soft foods; soup, porridge, mashed potatoes, pasta, scrambled eggs, applesauce, yoghurt and pudding for a treat! (It’s nobody’s business if he’s adding some medicine to make you hazy and docile to make you feel better and make you weaker since you seem to be getting sick).

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who slowly allows you to get better you to do more for yourself, although he still encourages you to stay in bed and enjoys feeding you himself, he’s allowed to be a little selfish - after all, he’s still worried for you!

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who begins the heavy guilt-tripping (as if he hadn’t already) once you start insisting on getting out of bed and doing things on your own; “I just want the best for you, why won’t you let me help you?” “Are you trying to hurt yourself? Straining yourself will only put you back, I know you don’t know me but can’t you see that I only want what’s best for you?” “I know you don’t remember me but I love you, can’t you at least appreciate my love for you if you can’t love me back?”

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who is always cheerful and sweet (sickeningly so) and suffocatingly affectionate, no matter how you resist his efforts the most upset he’ll get is a pitying or disappointed look. Anything he really doesn’t like is simply ignored, you didn’t mean to say that - obviously - so he just won’t hear it in the first place!

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who’s reactions grow twitchier the more you insist and fight against him, he’s extremely good at keeping his charming smile from slipping but he must admit it grows more and more difficult every day as you barrage him with your range of pleads and reasoning to demands and yelling - the former only causing him to say “Oh, honey…” in a pitiful manner and take you in his arms, rocking and shushing you like a parent would for a crying child - and the latter only receives a disappointed yet strict “I’ll leave you to calm down.” and a firmly shut door.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who’s patience has grown thin and his tolerance is reached as they are exhausted by the same song and dance every day, the same ungrateful tone, never thanking, only asking for more.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who finally snaps.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who screams at you “WHY CAN’T YOU JUST BE HAPPY?! WHY CAN’T YOU JUST APPRECIATE ME?!”

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who’s eyes are wide and bloodshot, his usually put-together appearance has been thrown to the wind, dishevelled clothes and messy hair taking its place. One hand grips the side of the bed frame above your bed as he leans over you. The silence is searing in the seconds after, you both stay frozen still, neither of you expected the outburst and neither know how to react or proceed.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who clears his throat and takes several steps back, unable to make eye contact as mutters an apology for his outburst and leaves with the excuse of making dinner, no matter your reaction. He’ll feel guilt in his throat for days to come but will never address what happened - and will shut you down with a loud and obvious change in subject if you ever try to - instead bringing you gifts such as stuffed toys, blankets, soothing drinks and a little more sugary food than he had previously given you (it doesn’t matter if you don’t like them, although he’ll adapt to your tastes, the nature of the gifts will remain the same).

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who restrains again you if you start being physical with him, clearly your amnesia has seriously affected you to make you act like this.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who allows you to work from home if your (previous) job accommodates it, of course you don’t need to work (really, he’d be able to support you without you lifting a finger) but he thinks it’ll give you something to do and keep your mind from wandering into dangerous territory (with limits, naturally).

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who still dotes like the day you woke up, still spoon-feeding and even carrying you from room to room (especially when you are not yet trusted, instead you are placed in your chair to have dinner together and are expected not to get up until you are carried back to your room afterwards) and even just having you sit on his lap as he plays with your hair.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who sometimes uses a baby-voice when talking to you, especially when you’re trying to have a serious conversation. (“Aww is someone’s feelings acting up? I think someone needs a cuddle and a nap, huh?”)

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who takes a very, very long time to really trust you (or rather, trust his manipulation and gaslighting have taken effect, maybe with a touch of stockholm syndrome) and when he does, expect to not have a moment without supervision. Once he lets you out of your room into the rest of your apartment, naturally there’s cameras covering every corner, sensors on all the doors and windows and a ring doorbell so you don’t interact with anyone when he’s not there. And maybe, if you’re really moved by his tactics, taking up the role of a loving partner, then you may be rewarded with rare dates - outside of your shared home - to places like the aquarium or zoo, an activity to keep your mind occupied.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who claims to only want what's best for you, to help you in your recovery and to settle into your new normal.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who spoils you, although dates outside the apartment are few and far between - even once you earn his trust - he tries to have a romantic evening at least once a week. Of course, he cooks almost every night - your boyfriend should be able to tend every need - but he puts in special effort on these date nights, maybe a more expensive meat (if that’s your preference, he’ll adapt for whatever your dietary habits are) the dish will be made with spices and oils to enhance the rich flavours of the dish to a mouth-watering extent - and naturally candles will surround where you eat and several vases of a mix of flowers all relating to the love he has for you, most of which in shades of red such as roses, chrysanthemums, carnations with the rare white alyssum or bergenia mixed into the array of bouquets around your home.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who loves you unlike anyone else ever could…

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wallofchynax · 2 months ago

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Bret 'The Hitman' Hart x Reader SFW Alphabet Headcanons

This was requested! Thank you so much. I need to do more stuff with Bret because I've been so obsessed with him recently

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Bret isn't the most openly affectionate man on the planet. He's not one for being flashy and over the top with his affections. He's more steady and quiet but still meaningful. He won't be the guy making a scene about you in public but he's always there showing his own ways of affection such as squeezing your hand, caring about your comfort and needs before his own, stepping in when someone disrespects you, giving you hugs that are firm and grounding, remembering little things like songs you like or your coffee order. Also, he won't say I love you all the time but when he does, he means it.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Bret Hart is the type of best friend who sticks around for life. He’s not the guy who collects a ton of casual acquaintances; if you’re his friend, you’re one of the few he truly trusts, and he’ll have your back no matter what. He's loyal to a fault and he notices little shifts in your personality to know when things are wrong. He's protective but allows you to fight your own battles. He's not someone who's going to call you all the time but if you need someone in an emergency, he's already there. Friendships with him tend to start with mutual respect and he values people who are genuine, grounded and don't play mind games. You won't get far with him if you make a career out of being fake.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Bret isn’t the biggest cuddler, at least not in a clingy way, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy it. He just prefers low-key, casual affection over anything overly dramatic. He’s more of a "relaxed but firm" cuddler, the kind that makes you feel safe without smothering you. He isn't the type to initiate all the time but he will not say no if you want to cuddle first. After a long day, he does enjoy physical closeness but he's normally not one for asking for it but if he's in the right mood, he will pull you in without saying a word, just holding you close.

He’s definitely the type to wrap an arm around you from behind and keep you close without being overbearing. If he’s feeling particularly soft, he might rest his forehead against the back of your neck for a second before settling in.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He is absolutely the kind of guy who wants to settle down. Family is so important to Bret and to be honest, he's not one for a life of fleeting connections. He wants a home that feels like home. Somewhere warm, comfortable, and private. He’s not the type to jump into something impulsively; he needs to trust that the relationship is solid before fully committing.

Once he’s in, he’s in. He takes commitment seriously and wants a real partnership, not just a fling. He dreams of coming home to someone who actually understands him, rather than someone who just likes the idea of being with him

E: Effort (How much effort do they put into a relationship?)

He doesn't do halfway. If he's in a relationship, he's going all in for real. He's not the most outwardly expressive person but his effort is there, especially in small ways. His way of providing care is always showing up for you. Bret is dependable and the kind of partner that you can count on through the thick and thin. He's not one for flowerily speeches but he does care. If there's tension, he won't storm off or give you the silent treatment, he will sit down and talk to you.

However, there are some things Bret struggles with. He isn't forthcoming with his emotions sometimes and believes showing up is sometimes just enough, he can be distant when he's stressed and sometimes he's more practical than poetic.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Bret is all about commitment but he doesn’t rush into it blindly. He’s the kind of person who takes relationships seriously and isn’t in it just for fun. If he’s with you, he’s already seeing the long-term potential, but he needs to be sure it’s right before making a major commitment.

He values stability and loyalty more than anything. He doesn’t do on-again, off-again relationships, if he commits, it’s because he genuinely sees a future. Trust is everything to him. He needs to know that you’re someone who won’t betray him or make him feel like he has to constantly prove himself. He doesn’t take marriage lightly, it’s not just a label to him; it’s a partnership that should last.

He wouldn't' rush into marriage with you. He needs to make sure the foundation is solid before he does that. He'd likely wait a few years before proposing just to be certain but once he's made his mind up, he's all in.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Bret is very care when he's with the people he loves. He's spent a lot of time in a rough physical industry but outside of the ring, he is surprisingly gentle. He won't throw you around playfully and his hugs are firm but never crushing. If you are upset, he won't crowd you but might place a hand on his back. When he’s tired or feeling sentimental, he might trace slow circles against your skin absentmindedly.

He's very emotionally intelligent but he's not always sure what to do with other people's emotions. If you're crying, he might not say too much but he will sit with you and hold your hand if you want that. He would never lose his temper or take anger out on you. If he's particularly angry about something, he might just step away but he won't lash out.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Answered this in cuddles ngl lmao.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Bret isn't one to throw around the L world carelessly. He takes those words seriously and he won't just say them randomly unless he absolutely means it. He’s not going to blurt it out early in a relationship just because it feels right in the moment.

It takes a while for him to be certain, months, maybe even longer, because once he says it, it’s real to him. He needs proof that the relationship is strong before he opens up like that. But, when he does, it's not dramatic. It's probably a quiet moment, like after a long day when you are just sitting together and he realises how much he means it.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He isn't the type to get openly possessive or insecure, but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel jealousy. He is just really good at controlling it, until he's not. He’s not the type to be jealous over every little thing. He trusts his partner and doesn’t feel the need to act territorial. If he sees something that genuinely bothers him, he'll notice, he doesn't always say something but you'll see it in his body language. If he's feeling a certain way, Bret won't say much - he'll just watch. And if someone is stepping over a line, they'll feel his presence before he even says a word. He won't make a scene but you will know because he'll casually wrap an arm around your waist.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are slow, deliberate and deeply meaningful. He's not the type to rush anything when it comes to affection, he takes his time making you feel every second of it. He doesn’t do half-hearted kisses. If he’s kissing you, it’s intentional and full of quiet intensity. He lets his lips linger just a little longer than necessary, like he’s committing the moment to memory. Even after the kiss, he stays close, forehead against yours or hands still resting on your waist.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Bret is great with kids in a way that is completely natural. He doesn't force it, kids just gravitate towards him, because he has this calm steady presence that tends to make kids feel safe. He's a cool and protective type of guy who kids tend to gravitate to him because he also had a really soft heart.

He really does want his own too but only when he's able to guarantee them a stable and loving home. He would be a protective but fair father. He doesn't believe in spoiling them but he'd always make sure they were loved. Wrestling would still be a big part of his life, his kids would always come first now.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Bret is not a morning person, but he forces himself to be one. Years of early training, traveling, and matches have made him used to waking up early, even if he doesn’t always like it. He likes the peace and quiet of slow mornings. No rush, no pressure, just the two of you existing in the same space. He’s not overly clingy in his sleep, but he always ends up facing toward you, his arm loosely draped over your waist. His voice is deeper, rougher in the morning. If he speaks at all, it’s in low murmurs. If he doesn’t have an early obligation, he likes slow mornings. Maybe he’ll lay in bed a little longer, letting you rest against his chest while he absentmindedly traces shapes on your back.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with Bret are calm, low-key and comfortable. He not the type for wild late nights; he prefers the comfort of quiet nights at home over big social outings. He doesn't need to fill every moment with conversation but he likes having you close in comfortable silence. He might start the night on his own side, but at some point, his arm will find its way around you, pulling you in.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Bret is naturally guarded, and it takes time for him to truly open up. He’s not necessarily closed off, but he’s selective about what he shares and with whom.

To begin with, most stories are surface level. Wrestling stories, road trips that aren't serious but anything that is deeply personal? That takes time. He starts revealing pieces of himself gradually, small passing comments rather than big reveals. If he trusts you, he lets you in slowly. He won’t sit you down for a big life story reveal; he’ll just start talking about things he never mentioned before, as if testing the waters.

He struggles with vulnerability. If he’s hurt or upset, his first instinct is to keep it to himself. He won’t vent unless he’s absolutely sure you won’t judge him for it.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He has a long fuse but sharp edge. When he gets angry, you'll know it. He won't lose his temper over small inconveniences, and he's good at keeping his cool under pressure. He doesn't yell, he gets cold. He won't raise his voice at you but his words become sharp, measured and impossible to argue with.

If he does get into an argument, he fights with facts, not emotion. He doesn’t resort to petty insults, but he knows exactly how to hit where it hurts if he has to.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Bret has an insane memory for the things that actually matter. He might not immediately react when you tell him something in passing but he remembers everything. et. Your favourite coffee order, the way you always hum a certain song when you're focused, or that one offhand comment you made about a book you'd been meaning to read? He won’t forget.

Even if you don’t say something outright, he notices patterns in your behaviour—how you fidget when you're nervous, how your mood shifts depending on the weather, or which side of the bed you prefer.

You never have to remind him of big milestones, anniversaries, or things you care about, he remembers without being told twice.

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

His favourite moments are not the flashy ones. It's the small moments where he felt he could trust you. The quiet nights where it is just the two of you and he realises this is the kind of peace he wants. He’ll never admit it, but he loves the first time you caught him off guard with something, maybe a joke that made him laugh when he didn’t want to, or the first time you stood up for him when he least expected it.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Bret is incredibly protective, but in a way that’s quiet and unwavering rather than loud or aggressive. He’s not going to make a big show of it, but the second he senses you’re in danger or being disrespected, he’s already stepping in. He often protects you though presence. If someone gives you a hard time, he doesn't need to through a punch, just being there gives him enough of presence. He won’t fly off the handle over small things, but if someone crosses a line? He’s got a steel-trap temper that doesn’t let things slide.

He won't ask for your protection EVER but he deeply appreciates it when you have his back. If someone insults him or disrespects him and you speak up first? It means more to him than words can say.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He prefers something low-key and intimate over big, over-the-top outings. A quiet dinner, a long drive with no destination, or just staying in and talking for hours, that’s his ideal way to spend time with you. He remembers every single anniversaries and will never forget an important date. He’s not the type to shower you in gifts, but he’ll always make sure to mark the occasion with something that means something to you both.

When it comes to gifts, He doesn’t give them often, but when he does, they’re deeply personal. Maybe it’s a book you mentioned once in passing, a vintage piece of merch from a band you love, or something small but significant that shows he really listens.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He is far from perfect and he's got a few different flaws.

Not always willing to talk to you when something is bothering him.

When he's mad, he stays mad. He has a hard time forgiving and if you annoy him, it might take a bit of convincing to get him to talk to you again.

If he thinks he’s right about something? Good luck changing his mind. Even if he realizes he’s wrong, he’ll take his sweet time admitting it.

If he doesn’t feel like dealing with something (or someone), he will completely disengage. He’s not rude about it, but you’ll know when he’s checked out.

Has workaholic tendencies, always thinking about what's happening next, not being able to fully shut off.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Bret cares about his appearance, but in a way that feels effortless rather than obsessive. He knows he looks good, but he doesn’t brag about it. He’s aware that he’s considered attractive, but he’s not the type to constantly check himself out in mirrors or fish for compliments. is personal style is clean, classic, and effortless. He doesn’t need flashy designer labels - he just knows how to make jeans, a leather jacket, and a simple shirt look damn good.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Bret is the kind of person who doesn’t need someone to complete him, but once he lets you in, you become part of his world in a way that’s hard to undo. He’s independent, but love changes things. He’s used to standing on his own, but if you’re a real part of his life, he adapts to having you there. If you were to leave, he wouldn’t crumble, but there’d be an undeniable gap in his life. He’s not the type to chase, but he won’t pretend he’s unaffected. If something happened between you, he wouldn’t be dramatic about it, but you’d see it in his actions.

He wouldn't call it incomplete but he would never do the same. He lost you, he'd still move on but he will always feel like something was missing.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Bret's sense of humour often catches you off-guard. He delivers absolutely deadpan jokes that make people pause for a second before realizing he was messing with them. He won’t laugh at his own joke, either, he just sits there, letting you figure it out.

When Bret genuinely laughs, it’s the kind that catches in his throat, makes his eyes crinkle, and shows a side of him not everyone gets to see and you love it.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

So in general, he cannot stand fakeness in people; if he even senses that someone is being disingenuous, manipulative, or playing both sides, he completely checks out.

He dislikes disloyalty whether its in friendships, work or relationships, betrayal is the fastest way of lose him forever. He prefers meaningful conversations so he would prefer people who value that rather just people who like to hear their own voice.

In terms of relationships, he cannot do toxicness. If someone thrives on picking fights for attention, he's done. If they disrespect wrestling, knowing it's his lives work, he's done, if you don't respect his boundaries, he's done.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

If you run cold, congrats! You are sleeping with a personal heater! No, for real, Bret runs warm at night to a point that he'll kick the blankets off of you both unconsciously in the night. He sometimes talks in his sleep and will deny this if you ever ask him about it.

#bret hart x reader #bret the hitman hart x reader #wwe #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #wwe x oc #wwe x reader #wwf #wwf fanfiction #90s wrestling #wwe fic #wwe headcanons

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waynewifey · 2 years ago

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dear mr. wayne — b.w

part one: dear mr. wayne

part two: aftermath

part three: aporia

epilogue

summary: it’s not easy being a politician’s wife. it’s even harder to love a vigilante. months of negligence make you an easy target to his enemies.

pairing: bruce wayne/battinson x reader

genre: angst romance & dark action

warnings: swearing; smoking; kidnapping; violence; a bit of gore; “you” is she/her; bruce is the worst husband ever btw

word count: 2.8k

A/N: i wrote this back in january 2022 when the batman movie had just premiered, so kinda off the hype here. i hope you enjoy it anyway. already working on part 2, let me know if you guys would like it! also, this has taken a path way darker than i had in mind so i’m sorry if it’s too much. comments are appreciated!

gotham city, USA.

it's late.

you have no clock nearby, but you feel it in your bones. in your muscles too. it's too late and bruce should be home already. laying in the sofa, only half conscious, you regret telling alfred to go to bed. at least you wouldn't be alone. of course, being married to the batman you knew he would patrol at night often. you were okay with it. but lately bruce had been too focused on his other, and recent, goal: running for mayor. at first it seemed out of character, he was never good with the public or the press. but he stared at thomas wayne's painting in the hall in such painful façade, it made sense all off sudden. you were supportive of it. you showed up to every event just to stay by his side, to show the people the lovable man he was. the man you loved. the man who couldn't even be home for dinner.

the penthouse's elevator dings, opening its doors at the end of the hallway you see perfectly from your seat. your head doesn't lift instantly, like in the first week. instead, a long sigh escapes from your lips as bruce reaches the living room.

"hello, darling." he says, still in motion as he walks the stairway up to the room you shared. not a single kiss, or a hug. you follow him, because what else is there to do? you need to go to bed anyway. by the time you get there, slowly, his suit is already on the floor and he's taking a shower.

"how was the meeting?" you ask, knowing he usually did his Wayne Enterprising meetings — which consisted of hanging out long hours in bars with business men — at night. recently, he started a complicated relationship with a real estate company he wanted to invest in.

"the usual." he stopped fully answering these questions three weeks ago, making the only time you ever talked even shorter. the city has gotten more violent than ever since his batman duties were put on standby.

"any closer to sealing the deal?" you sit on the bed, watching the open bathroom door.

"probably." it's not like he's being rude. well, maybe a little bit. he just doesn't want to talk any more, it's clear on his tone. but it's 2am and you brain isn't working too well.

"when is this gonna end, bruce?" you finally say, as he puts his boxers on. "when are we ever having dinner again? or going on a date? when are you gonna stop treating me like i'm some sort of home decor?" you almost vomit out the words that have been stuck on your throat for days. surprisingly, the heartache doesn't softens. instead, it gets worse. it's like admitting your abandonment.

six months ago, you started trying to get pregnant. it hadn't always been a dream of yours, but the idea of having an heir to all you've spent your life building is charming. you realised you were in the right time to do so, you had just turned 28, bruce was 32, and both had stable careers. a month later, bruce announced his candidacy. and so soon you gave up. you told yourself once he won the election everything would be fine. you would try again. but, realistically, being a mayor was already a lot of work on itself. he wouldn't want a pregnant wife or a child to take care of. after the four years, who knows? he might as well have a new life project. and your family would always stand on the side.

"i don't know what you're talking about..." he doesn't look into your eyes. hell, he barely looks at you. that feeling, the negligence, is enough to trigger the tears. you take a deep breath, making an effort to look composed.

"don't you, though?" your voice is shaken. look at me. look at me. look at me. look at me. he doesn't. "bruce." you call, finally getting his attention. however, the boredom on his face knocks you off your feet, legs trembling in pain and anger. "i just want you to make an effort on us..."

"really? cause that's all i ever done." he's leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed in a way you would find attractive in other circumstances. but now he's yelling and you fight back the urge to shrink into the mattress. "do you think i wanna have a kid on this fucked up town? i'm tryna fix this. fix everything!" his faces turns red-ish. something inside of you makes you want to leave the room. you've always been an avoider, that is one of the reasons you hadn't really had couple fights. so, basically, this is very new. "i've got the weight of the fucking world on my back."

"let's leave then" you manage to say, replacing the you chose this. it was true, however, that he was the one to put himself in this position. bruce wayne could've gotten his entire life without working if he wanted to. but he always needed to save everyone, to suffer for other's happiness. he was a giver. sometimes you wondered if he needed to be saved instead.

"you know i can't do that." he mumbles, in a defeated tone. a sigh escapes from his lips, suddenly the tiredness takes over his face. it's almost enough to make you let it go, to internalise your distress again. he really can't, you know that. he feels that the city is his liability, because it was the only thing he had since he became an orphan. but he had you, too. he just didn't acknowledge that.

"and i can't stay like this." it sounds like an whisper, but it's a plead. choose me. please. he seems to read it in your eyes, face contorting in agony when he realises what you're asking for. me or gotham? it's stupid to think he would ever choose you. but you hoped, so desperately, because you would choose him. always.

"let's not do this tonight, okay? i have to be in the office by the morning." tears instantly fall as he turns off the lights and lays on the bed, turning his back to where you slept. for a moment, you're static. his words were final. were you ever in control of something in your life? why were all of these decisions being made for you? mechanically, you stand on both feet and walk to the door. you don't even notice your movement until you're on the elevator. your husband didn't intervene either. this neighbourhood is one of the safest in town, which honestly isn't much but you had to get out. anyway, nowhere is totally safe at 3am.

you walk two blocks, clinging to the fluffy sweater you wore. the depressing air of gotham slows your pace, to a point you start wondering if it was really necessary to be aware. you could feel the city devouring you, starting with your hope. the blue 24h sign lights up the street, in a way that isn't welcoming, but you know the place well enough to not be scared to get in. a bell sounds over the door and wakes up the male behind the counter. he's got long black hair and seems to haven't seen a good night of sleep in weeks. same,you think.

"hi. can i get the blue one?" you point at the camel's behind the man. he nods, quickly putting a pack on the wooden board. the prices pops up on the cashier's display. you pay and go outside. smoking was an bad habit from your college days, when pressure got too excruciating. every now and then you would treat yourself to some cigarettes, for the confidence it gave you. the sense of control to be the one, for once, ruining yourself. the smoke burns your throat on the first inhale and you hold back a cough. you're too entertained by the cigar to notice the black van approaching. it stops right in front of you, and everything happens too quickly for your brain to process. it's all dark.

he's in a meeting, the boring kind.

the kind that has him seated in silence while a representative talks to his employees, who never get to listen to their actual boss. there's a chart being shown on a large tv on the other side of the room. he's not listening, though. he's writing down ideas for a thanksgiving speech. a head pops into the conference room.

"mr. wayne." it's one of the new assistants, hired especially for the election season. he didn't care to memorise her name, because temps usually don't last long. if she hadn't called him, he might've not even looked up. but the room is silent, expecting eyes on him. the girl at the door looks terrified. "you're urgently required outside, please."

he sighs as he gets up from his leather chair. the second the door closed behind him, chatter is heard again. in the corridor, the woman conducts him to his office and they get in. there's a bit of a commotion, four men lounge around his table, all their faces tense.

"mr. wayne, i'm afraid we don't have good news." the head of the marketing team speaks, a man called robert vance. he's probably said the same phrase to bruce about seven times this month, so that doesn't do much. the assistant approaches with an ipad, unpausing a video. "we received this from an anonymous email about forty minutes ago. we weren't able to get the ip address just yet."

the video starts with a black screen, zooming out to show a woman with a bag over her head. she has her hands on her back and is kneeling on the ground. bruce's heart skips a beat noticing the hair falling down her shoulders.

"bruce wayne..." an eerie voice whispers from behind the camera, breathing heavily. "i've robbed an egg from your basket, and you haven't even noticed!" there's a disturbing chuckle and the video shakes a bit. bruce doesn't move, eyes stuck on the screen. no one in the room has done anything other than breathing. someone gulps. "it's been long hours, but we're having fun, aren't we, darling?" a gloved hand reaches for the bag, pulling it out. her face - your face - is dripping blood. you're biting on a fabric, still in your home clothes. bruce's jaw clenches. you're crying, face beaten, in this degrading situation. your eyes pierce the screen right into his. suddenly, a gun is tapped on your forehead and you close your eyes into a sob. your lips mouth please. "i'm running out of patience here, you're running out of time. let's do business, shall we?" he laughs, knocking the pistol on the side of your head, making you fall laying on the floor, unconscious. the spot bleeds. "here's my proposal: you come clean about your father's deal with carmine falcone and maybe i don't shoot little mrs. wayne... or i do both. it's your choice, really. the clock is ticking. tick tock, wayne."

the video stops, the sight of a gun pointed at your unresponsive body burns into his mind. bruce is panting, the adrenaline rushes into his brain. there's a million of plans being built, but none of them seem viable.

"don't let media get this." he managed to say. one of the men in suits says it's too late. the tv flicks on showing a news report on the video. he kicks the side of his table, the contents being thrown across the room. "FUCK! you bastards wait forty fucking minutes to show me this?" he screams, no one can look him in the eyes. a hand runs through his black hair. "meanwhile my wife is out there with a gun on her head! and what have you done? i swear to god, if i don't find her alive and well i'm killing everyone in this goddamned room with my bare hands."

he storms out of there, reaching to his phone to call alfred and noticing the multiple missed calls. fucking silent mode. the sun is setting.

"i got the address." the butler says, instead of hello. a 'ding' sounds in his ear.

there has been pain for so long. you try to remember before the pain. but all is pain. he has to make it stop.

the floor is cold cement and you feel so small in this huge warehouse. the man in the mask knows you can't run. not only you're tied up, but the will had left you long before getting dragged into that van. he sees it in your eyes. so he strolls around, always in that ridiculous dark green overall. then he beats you up for fun. no cameras. just you and the devil himself. you find yourself praying, after all these years. you don't pray to get out, no. you pray so that it ends soon. you pray that the stab wound in your abdomen will get you an infection. you pray that when you close your eyes, you never have to open them again. but the divine has left you in the cold cement.

there's an explosion. your eyes open. there's smoke and dust taking over one of the walls. you're seeing everything horizontally, cheek on the floor. the man in green is just as scared as you were.

bruce wayne busted that fucking wall down. he expected a full team of psychopaths and maybe some more security. there was just one coward in the warehouse. the thing stares at him coming out of the smoke, fingers fidgeting. the batman steps forward. the freak steps back. then turns around, runs to a half broken wardrobe and grabs a gun from it. bruce walks slowly. there's a struggle loading the gun. he takes the opportunity to run and throw the thing on the floor. he bangs his head on it. the vermin screams. he takes one punch. two. tries to reach for the fallen gun. bruce steps on his hand and the loud crack echoes in the room. he screams again. three punches. the mask is taken off. his nose is bleeding. more punches. he holds the neck. the head is turning purple. oh how he wants to kill this little shit. bruce wayne will kill him. it will just take a few more seconds...

"baby, no" at first he thinks he's imagining it. it's so soft, so weak. but he looks up and there she is. his hands loose. right on the corner, chains on her legs. her face is ruined from blood and dirt. her wrists bleed too. the motherfucker chained her. hell is too good for this thing.

bang. on his shoulder. he looks down and the blood is dripping on the freak's face. he’s pushed to the side, holding the wound. tiny white dots obstruct his vision. he grunts through the pain. the man gets up and runs towards you. bruce can’t move. he arches his back, trying to roll and lay on his chest. it feels like he can’t move his arm anymore, like his bones had detached. when he finally does so, the man is escaping through a window. his hand searches for the adrenaline-boost in his belt, grabs it and quickly injects on his leg. it takes a second to get his blood rushing again. he crawls up and jumps through the window, which leads him to a metal balcony.

you’re almost standing, but he holds your chains and a gun to your face. the shooting sound had scared you awake. you can’t believe how close to bruce you finally are, but the conditions couldn’t be worse. you can hear water running below your feet, you don’t need daylight to show you the violent river you’re standing above. this is not good.

bruce has his hands up in the air and is holding himself back to not do anything stupid. the man’s face is contorting into the creepiest smile. no.

everything happens so slowly, yet he’s not quick enough to grab you in time. you’re falling in the air and he jumped after you. for a moment, the world is air. you can’t hold out your hand. your hair is flying in your face, he does not want to die without seeing you one last time. his cape holds him back and the distance between you only increases. you’re gone. the impact comes.

part two

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ofallthingsnasty · 1 year ago

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Okay, okay - I have to elaborate on the whole ‘your fave discovers you spank yourself’ thoughts because I’ve been rotating them in my mind for the last few days. It’s just too perfect… So. Some little thoughts.

tw: spanking, dubious consent & bad dom/sub dynamics for Crocodile and Doflamingo (Buggy is okay though), gn reader characters: Buggy, Crocodile, Doflamingo word count: 1.2k

I feel like Buggy is the type to catch you in the act. Probably doesn’t even know what he’s looking at for a hot second - and then he simply gapes and promptly walks out of the room again, not believing his eyes. It’s not that it’s that scandalous or that he’s a prude (he very much isn’t, we all know that) - he just really didn’t expect to walk in on you doing that. Pretty much everything else would have been okay, maybe even met with a stupid, saucy comment. But you giving yourself a thorough spanking with his wooden hairbrush out of all things is just something that never crossed his mind, and it leaves the clown entirely speechless. You’re probably just as mortified as him - but the worst thing about it all is that he simply won’t talk about it with you for days. No, the moment you see your boyfriend afterwards, he turns as red as his nose, sputters and flees the other way.

It’s not really mature, it’s really, really silly - but it’s Buggy in a nutshell. At least him avoiding you quickly turns your embarrassment into irritation, which certainly is one way to deal with those feelings. You simply want to talk it out instead of playing cat and mouse as a grown-ass adults and even though you should probably feel ashamed a little bit (or should you? Is this really worse than knowing that Buggy has blown himself at least once?), you soon find yourself grabbing him by the scruff of his neck to finally address it. It’s then that he confesses - stammering, sweating, avoiding eye contact entirely - that he hasn’t been able to get the mental image of you punishing yourself out of his head, hell, that he’s been fucking his fists to it (but you didn’t hear that part, is that clear!?)- Well, that explains a lot of his odd behavior. Caught somewhere between relief, embarrassment and that familiar flicker of heat in your belly, it’s now your turn to stutter as you answer. Tell him you don’t even need some corny roleplay to go along with it (or do, he’ll be giddy with excitement either way) and he’ll happily but shakily provide. Tell him to go all out and use you as a stress relief and when he really, really needs it and he’ll do just that. Whatever it is you seek, you’ll get it from him - but don’t forget, Buggy isn't someone who only gives, he’s curious about taking, too. So humor him and treat him just as he does you and you’ll both be happy with this little discovery.

Crocodile is nothing if not attentive. Gray eyes notice the way you shift while you sit yourself down, rake over the hand that you put on your still-hot skin to soothe any remaining stings, and register that you’re wearing briefs instead of shorter options when all he’s ever known you in are more risque pieces. A sports injury, a strain, any other harmless bruise that could have you in pain for a little bit, his brain comes up with a dozen answers to the question as to why your ass is tender - that you’ve doled out a generous punishment on yourself the night before is nothing that crosses his mind. He’s more than willing to let it slide, to let you escape into the night with a sore ass and him none the wiser but when you refuse to let him dress you down fully - that’s when he gets suspicious. Crocodile doesn’t like it when others are in on something he isn’t, and it’s even worse when that ‘other’ is you, his most prized possession. So he’ll demand an answer - and when you sputter and fidget underneath his watchful gaze, he’s not above asking you to strip in that tone you know very well, the one that doesn’t leave any room for discussions; just like the two of you agreed on when you started this relationship. And once he spots the reason (or more like reasons, because there are multiple of them almost splattered across your ass) for your out of line behavior- he has his answer. The revelation certainly raises an eyebrow. Or two. But most importantly, it begs the question: why didn’t you just tell him, ask him to implement it into the already existing dynamic? The more he thinks about it, the more he comes to the conclusion that this has been nothing but an incredibly big case of misbehavior on your part. He’s almost disappointed in you, little old always-so-good-for-him you, who never as much as blinks without his permission. Maybe there are remnants of brattiness in that thick head of yours, he muses. Remnants he’ll have to carefully scrape out, it seems. No matter; he’ll have to punish you now, anyways - because you harmed what’s his without his permission and he’ll have to show you just how unpleasant a thorough spanking can be. Your measly little hairbrush might leave you sore - his belt will leave you bloody and crying.

Doflamingo, however, is the one to spot the marks on you. That man has no sense for privacy or personal space - try as you might, he’ll barge in after you’ve taken a shower, straight up rips your underwear apart, gives you a wedgie just to get to the globes of your ass or grabs a full hand of your fat and laughs as you wince- There are a million ways for him to literally stick his nose where it doesn’t belong and they all end up with you beyond embarrassed and him laughing something awful at the revelation that his little favorite has a hang for masochism. My, why didn’t you tell him? He could have given you the beating of your life by now, if only he had known what desires you harbor. It’s cute to him, cute and hilarious and utterly tantalizing. The discovery makes his hands itch - the moment you fess up to your little ‘self made’ escapades, you’ll find the world spinning and you propped up rather uncomfortably right over his lap, his right hand already raised to deliver a just punishment. Doflamingo isn’t a man to ask for permission - you admitting that you like getting spanked is enough consent to him - and he isn’t afraid of rushing into things, either. You’ll get the most unorthodox, breathtaking punishment of your life right then and there, without any count, any broken rules or sobbing about anything you’ve done wrong. He just beats your ass as if it’s the most entertaining thing in the world, laughs like a maniac and all you can do is flail underneath him, never knowing when he’ll stop. If you were able to look at his face, you’d see nothing but unbridled joy, almost boyish amusement as he brings his palm down again and again, with varying degrees of intensity and strength. He loves surprises, loves entertainment more than anything - and you providing him with such a gift delights him, shows him just how perfect you are. You might be wailing and sobbing, begging him to stop, to give you a break - but he’s lost in those little sounds and jerks coming from you, in his imagination that is running wild with pictures of you spanking yourself while he didn't know all this time. How rotten you truly are, deep down to the core… He’ll make sure that your interior matches your exterior, don’t worry about it.

#tw.spanking #idk doffy's part could be read as dark - interpret however you want haha #crocodile x reader #doflamingo x reader #buggy x reader #one piece x reader #/buggy #/crocodile #/doflamingo #/one piece

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