#unconventional restraint

[loonybun]

Two-dimensional prisons

- I’ve had the idea of somehow putting a whumpee in a computer for a really long time. confined to a single digital room, only able to interact with a few things, going from human to being bound by programming. The touch starvation that comes with that. Interacting with a cursor is nothing like interacting with another person. basically yeah tamagotchify them.

- Phones with the same concept^

- keeping whumpee trapped in a mirror, only ever able to gaze out at the real world.

- if you’re feeling really mean, make it a compact mirror. There’s hardly even enough space to shift around. A whole world just out of their reach from that claustrophobic little space they’re stuck in. They’re completely portable.

- Doesn’t have to be 2D, but a book or a journal. Being able to script whatever events they want for whumpee. Whether they’re aware of it all or not is also a fun thing to keep in mind.

- A painting overlooking a grand room. They’re allowed to move around in the frame. Being marveled at and spectated, or instructed to stay in a certain pose. That frame can always get smaller if they disobey.

- i know i already said mirrors, but basically any reflective surfaces work well. maybe a jewel or a puddle.

[aceofwhump]

Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves (2023)

[whumppromptoftheday]

barbed wire cuts into whumpee's skin, leaving some very interesting and hard to explain scars. what happens when, after so many years of being rid of whumper, someone sees the scars and asks about them?

[whumpisgoodwhumpislife]

Febuwhump day 3

Pinned down

Masterlist

Am I gonna be late every day ? Likely.

CW: vampire whumpee, starvation, mention of burning and staking.

Whumpee ran fast, as fast as he could, faster than he had ever run. But he was starved, his inhuman body weakened from the need of blood. It had been so long since his captor had last allowed him blood. He ran fast, but it was not enough. He screamed as he was tackled from behind, tumbling on the floor of the forest. The vampire immediately tried to start sprinting again, ignoring the weakness in his muscles, but was sent back on the floor by a violent kick to his side.

Whumpee wheezed as whumper knelt on his emaciated chest, the broken ribs caving under the hunter's weight. Pinning him down, hindering his pathetic escape attempts. The vampire strained against him, unable to repress tears of rage and anguish. Just a few months ago, he wouldn't have had any problem getting out of whumper's grip. Now ? He was as weak and helpless as a toddler. Whumper grinned.

"Poor boy. You wanted out, uh ? Well you'll get that. No need to thank me."

Whumpee had no idea what he meant by that, but it couldn't be anything good. When the hunter used his left hand to grab the stake on the back of his belt, the vampire's heart skipped a beat.

"No. No please. I won't..."

He barely managed to croak out a few, desperate words before the end of the stake was pressed firmly to his midsection, where the skin was so obviously sinking due to starvation. Whumpee's scream tore through his throat as the long, sturdy piece of wood was hammered through skin, organs and bones, tearing everything in its path, until it met dirt. He didn't have the energy to curse or struggle anymore, only writhing like a dying animal as whumper stood up, satisfied.

"You're lucky, boy, I've heard that we're gonna have a sunny weekend. How about I leave you here to enjoy it and come to pick you up monday ? Great idea."

The vampire's eyes widened in horror, and he raised a shaking hand to the stake, desperate to pull it out, to free himself. But the thing was buried too deeply, he was stuck there. Pinned down, waiting for the sunrise.

@febuwhump

[ssomagni]

@kryptonite-week Day two Red & Blue - Captured by the enemy, Calling for backup, unconventional restraints, Secret identities.

@yearoftheotpevent Crack treated seriously

Pairing: Superbat

C/W: None

Story Summary: When Clark Kent starts speaking an dead language, when his hands shake with powers that rival a gods, when his eyes lose their blue, become unnaturally red, there's only one thing his boyfriend Bruce can think to do to save him, hold an exorcism.

Story link: Now you're speaking my language

requests Open: Yes

[jov1ii]

Mine, All Mine

♡⃕.pairing: Husband!Salesman x Wife!Reader ♡⃕.synopsis: life with your husband. ♡⃕.word count: 1.4k+ ♡⃕.content warning: a little suggestive if you squint, arranged marriage.

The corner of his lips twitched as a hint of a smirk danced upon his lips. He had been watching you since the onset of morning. There was just something so…so captivating about the way you moved, the subtle grace of your mannerisms.

He supposed, it was the simple things that enticed him the most.

Tearing his gaze away, he rose and crossed the room to the mahogany desk; a silent cue for you to do the same.

"I suppose we shall get to know each other better?" You propose.

He watched silently as you stood and approached the desk. This arrangement, it was strange, unconventional. And yet, he couldn’t quite find it in himself to abhor the idea of spending every day, every hour in your company.

"Oh yeah? Is that what you want?" He was somewhat bemused by your suggestion.

You were hardly the type inclined toward the idea of matrimony, and neither was he. But here you were, his wife. His wife—the term sounded foreign upon his tongue.

He regarded you with a stoic eye, head canted slightly to the side. He was trying to figure you out, to understand the machinations of your mind. Such a task was seemingly monumental, no doubt, by the way of your closed off demeanor, a quiet, stoic disposition. But that was all the more reason he wished to figure you out.

You were... intriguing.

Days had come and gone since their first conversation.

He had, for the most part, settled into this married life quite well.

There was something soothing, peaceful, about the quiet domesticity of it all. Both you and him became acutely aware of each other's presence.

They say familiarity bred contempt, but for you and him, it bred something much different.

Every now and then, he would recall the subtle slope of your nose, the elegant dip of your shoulders, the way the sunlight pooled upon your skin… It took every bit of self-restraint he possessed not to ravish you there and then.

He had always thought of himself as an individual who could not possess emotions such but it wasn’t just carnal desire that he felt, rather, there was a certain depth to this feeling. A feeling he wasn’t quite able to place.

He tried to push away those thoughts as best as he could, but in the hours at night when he laid in bed, with you so close, it became harder to shut you out.

He laid awake, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep and plagued with the memory of your smile, the way you laughed, the scent of your hair- Wait.

"Can't sleep?" You ask, looking back at him.

The abrupt voice broke him from his trance. And then he groaned for the second time that night. He remained motionless for a few moments and then he rolls over, only to find you staring back at him from the other side of the bed.

”Clearly, neither can you…” He said, raking a hand through his rumpled hair which earned a chuckle from you.

The corner of his lips quirked into a smirk as the sound of your laughter reached his ears. He propped himself up on one elbow, studying you in the dim light. There was something rather enthralling about seeing you like this, all relaxed and vulnerable in the quiet night.

“I’d ask why you can’t sleep, but I think I already know the answer,” He teased.

"Oh yeah? What do you think is the cause?" You ask, smiling softly.

“You don’t seem to have much trouble sleeping during the day, when the sun is out. But come night time, suddenly there’s a change." He responded without a bit of hesitation. He wasn’t one to sugarcoat after all.

“You’re nervous about this new... condition, and about the future, and, if I’m not mistaken…a little scared of me,” He said, glancing back at you.

His words earned a huff from you. "Scared of you?"

His smirk widens into a sly smile as he props himself up on an elbow. He meets your gaze, regarding you with a keen eye.

“You are,” He states bluntly, reaching out and tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“I can see that little shiver that goes through your spine every time I touch you. That little bit of hesitation in your movements whenever I’m around.”

Oh.

When he suggested leaving the house “to get some air” on a Friday evening, you didn’t think much of it.

After all, for the first few weeks after marriage, he had spent his days working and evenings on the armchair by the fire. However, the last thing you had expected was to be led out the door and into his black car.

A date—was, and is, the furthest thing you had expected from a reserved man like your husband.

As much as he hated to admit it, he was nervous. A man as stoic and reserved as he, nervous for a date? Who would’ve thought. He had never been the romantic sort, too occupied in work and realistic for the idea of romance.

You tried to catch a glimpse of his expression from the passenger seat, but he was avoiding your gaze at all costs. Not a word was spoken, only the steady hum of the engine was heard as the scenery passed by.

Eventually, he pulled into a secluded spot overlooking a shimmering lake. A modest family-run restaurant on the edge of town.

He gets out of the car and comes around to your side, opening the door for you after. And as you get out of the car, you are quick to glance around and take in your surroundings. Expensive.

The restaurant looked modest and homey, quaint even. You watch as he speaks a word to the waiter who leads the two of you to a secluded table.

He gestures to the table and pulls out your chair for you.

A soft “thank you” escapes your lips in response as you sink into the seat, before he takes his own seat across from you. He reaches for the wine list, scanning it before ordering a bottle of red.

"Do you plan on staying this quiet, or...?" You ask, biting back a teasing smile.

So she hasn't quite lost her bite, then. He leans back in the chair and crosses one leg over the other, a sign of feigned aloofness. "Perhaps I'll save my tongue for our food." He said.

"Boring." You comment, watching as the waiter approached with a bottle of wine and a pair of glasses.

You took the glass, now filled with wine and brought it towards your lips, glancing at him.

"Boring, eh?" He asks. "Maybe I should order a second round of drinks just to shut you up," he retorts with a smirk.

"You look a tad too cocky for my liking."

....

It did not take long before the drinks started to get you. You were laughing louder, talking more freely, and your cheeks had taken on a rosy flush. It would almost be cute, were it not so annoying- or so he liked to believe.

He sets the glass down on the table and his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. Perhaps one drink too many.

He watched you from across the table, the smile never leaving your lips, the glint in your eyes all the more noticeable when your guard was down like this.

"Don't look at me like that." You whispered, swirling the liquid in the glass, your voice slurred.

"And how exactly am I looking at you?" He asked in a low voice, leaning forward ever so slightly.

"Like you want to rip my dress right here, right now." You said, smirking.

He blinked, that little remark sending an involuntary shiver down his spine. He tried his damned best not to react, but the words had an immediate effect on him.

"Don’t be ridiculous." He mumbled. But your words were doing all kinds of things him, in all the right places.

And he could only take so much.

And just like that, one last drink, a ride home, a few fumbled steps in the doorway and a heated night later, when you woke up the next morning, you think all of it had been a dream- the dinner date, the alcohol, the lust-filled return home... But the sight of a slender arm curled around your hip said otherwise.

You can't help it, a smile starts to form on your own face. If this was how married life was supposed to be, then you were more than ready to welcome it with open arms.

[the-cosmic-cauldron]

Your Venus sign can reveal a lot about how you handle money, from your spending habits to the state of your bank account. Let’s get into it.

Fire Venus (Aries, Leo, Sagittarius) Happy Spenders

Fire Venus individuals experience major fluctuations in their finances. Their bank accounts can swing from being in the negatives to thriving in no time. They tend to be frugal at times, but they are also natural splurgers—especially when their income increases. When they have money, they enjoy spending it on things they desire, often without much restraint. However, one thing about Fire Venus is that their bounce-back game is strong. Even if they hit financial lows, they quickly find ways to recover. Their money flow is inconsistent, but they always manage to get back on their feet.

Earth Venus (Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn) I WANT & I NEED SPENDERS

Earth Venus individuals value financial stability and practicality. They may not always have large amounts of money, but they usually have a plan to maintain financial security. When their bank accounts grow, they do have the urge to splurge—but only on items they truly want or see as valuable. They are naturally frugal and prefer to make purchases that make financial sense, often looking for bargains and deals. While they are not immune to financial struggles, they are also the type to actively work on fixing any financial setbacks. If they fall into debt, they are likely to develop a structured plan to get back on track.

Air Venus (Gemini, Libra, Aquarius) What The Fuck Did I Spend My Money On Spenders

Air Venus individuals tend to be financially savvy and resourceful. They often know budgeting hacks, use financial apps, and have innovative ways of making and managing money. However, their restless nature can sometimes lead them to spend impulsively. One week their bank account looks great, and the next, they have no idea where all their money went. They are skilled at making money, but because they know they can always earn more, they may not be the best at maintaining consistency. Air Venus individuals can also be secretive about their finances, sometimes engaging in unconventional or even slightly “sketchy” ways to secure funds.

Water Venus (Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces) I’m Not Spending Shit Until I Want To Spenders

Water Venus individuals seek financial security but tend to have an emotional relationship with money. They may be frugal and try to hold onto their wealth, but their spending habits can shift dramatically based on their emotional state. If they are going through heartbreak, stress, or depression, they may spend excessively in an attempt to lift their spirits. While they can save and maintain financial stability, emotional hardships can quickly drain their bank accounts. Additionally, Water Venus individuals can be overly cautious with money, sometimes holding onto it too tightly out of fear of loss.

[l1tw1ck]

The Fall of Spider-Man

bottom!ftm Miguel x top!masc!villain reader

🕷️ Word Count: 1,897 🕷️

AFAB Language Used

CW: Non-Con, Kidnapping, Lingerie, Fingering, Squirting, Cunnilingus, Overstimulation, Crying, Corruption, Creampie, Nipple Play, Pregnancy Mention, Stockholm Syndrome (Kinda?)

Miguel’s eyes shoot open. He immediately analyzes his surroundings. He’s tied up and on the floor. He can't see anything but he can tell he’s wearing lingerie. He feels sick. His first instinct is to try and get out of his restraints but no matter how hard he tries, nothing happens. He’s powerless. How? Why? When? Where the hell is he? He looks around the dark room, stopping to look at a door. There's light coming from behind it and he can hear movements. Footsteps. Getting closer and closer.

“You’re awake! Good morning, Miguel.” You smile, turning the lights on before walking towards him. “How are you feeling?”

“Who are you?” He asks.

You give him your name. “The person who's going to defeat Spider-Man once and for all.” You grin. “Although my methods are a bit unconventional.” You chuckle.

Miguel keeps his mouth shut, waiting to hear what you have to say next. Your confidence scares him. It's not like he's never met a confident villain before, it's honestly less likely to meet an insecure one, but your confidence is scary. You know something he doesn't. He knows you're dangerous. He always chooses to fight but everything inside him is screaming to run away. It's not like he has the choice now though.

“Pretty soon, you’ll be my beautiful husband and the father of our children.” You kiss his forehead. His heart drops. “But first, I’m gonna have some fun with you.” You kneel down and caress his cheek. He grimaces in disgust. “Let me give you the play by play.” You push his lacy red panties aside. “First, I’m gonna play with this pretty pussy of yours and give it a lot of love.” You rub his clit. “Then, once I’m done, I’m gonna slide my cock inside of you. I’ll make sure to go real slow, make you feel every inch of my cock.” You bring your fingers down to his entrance and push two of them in.

“Yo- you're sick.” He spits on you.

You wipe your cheek. “I didn't give you permission to speak, or spit.” You slap his cunt, earning a moan from him. “Watch yourself, Miguel.”

He looks at you angrily but doesn't say anything, too ashamed of the sound he just made and too afraid of the consequences to do so. You push your fingers in and out of his cunt, giving Miguel unwelcomed pleasure. “You like that?” You smirk, moving faster. He bites his lip to silence his moans. “I know you do. Even if you try to deny it, your body doesn't lie.”

He hates this so much.

“And then, I’ll pick up the pace. I’ll fuck you rough and hard. So rough that you won't be able to think. So hard that you’ll cry.” You push your fingers all the way in and thumb his clit, moving your fingers inside of him absentmindedly. He tries to fight against the pleasure but it's no use. He’s going to come.

“I’d love to see you cry.” You grin. He’s not going to cry. He might do a plethora of shameful things tonight but one thing he isn't going to do is cry. He refuses to. “I know you think it's impossible but it's not. And I can't wait to see you break.” You punctuate your last word with a hit to his g-spot. Miguel gasps, hips raising in the air as he squirts. Miguel looks down at himself in shame, cheeks burning hotter than a flame. He’s never done that before. He hates that you're the reason it happened. “Oh Miguel…” You let out a sharp breath.

You move in between his legs and dig into his wet cunt, slurping up his slick before tonguing his sensitive hole. Miguel squirms around in protest. Why does this feel so good? He wants to curse you out but he's worried about what you’ll do if he acts out. He feels terrible and so fucking good at the same time. He wants to kill you but he also doesn't want you to stop. He rolls his eyes back and squirts again, feeling extremely exhausted.

You pull away and stand up, stripping down to nothing. Miguel looks at your cock in horror. That's not going to fit! He desperately tries to get away but he can't do much in the position he's in.

“You’re really boosting my ego, Miguel.” You chuckle, kneeling back down and grabbing his waist. You pull him close to you so his thighs are on yours and your shaft is right against his cunt. “I’m going to enjoy this.” You look at him like the 5 star meal he is. You move him so that his pussy is sliding up and down your length, bringing the both of you pleasure.

He bares his fangs, showing you how angry he is without speaking. “Aw, you don't like this?” You frown, faking sympathy. “Or is it that you want something else?” You grin. “You want me to fuck you, is that it? You want me to finally fuck you?”

Miguel shakes his head rapidly. You move him backwards, just enough for you to be able to make an easier entrance. You point your tip against his clit, smearing pre cum over it and sliding down in between his folds. You tease him with your entrance, you're gently thrusting into him but only the tip is entering him. He can't stand the feeling. You eventually stop and slowly push your cock inside of him. You weren't exaggerating when you said he’d feel every inch of you. You’re practically tearing him apart with the way you’re stretching him out. You bite your lip, thoroughly enjoying his pussy. “I think I’m in heaven.”

If you’re in heaven, then Miguel’s in hell. You slowly slide in and out of him, reveling in his wet warmth. “That's right baby, sit back and take it like the pretty little slut you are.” You place your hand over the bulge of your cock on his stomach, enjoying the way it feels as you move and how sexy he looks with his tummy bulging. “You’re doing so good for me, you know that? Doing so well…”

He doesn't want to be good for you. He doesn't want you to enjoy this. If he wasn't afraid of the consequences he’d curse you out. You rub his clit gently, causing his breathing to turn shallow. “I wanna feel you come..” You mutter. “Come for me, baby.”

He grits his teeth, trying to stop himself from giving you what you want but it's too difficult. He can't hold back. It all feels too good, his pussy feels way too good, he can't do anything to prevent this. He shuts his eyes and comes, walls fluttering around your length. “You’re such a good boy, Miguel. You may be prickly but at least you know how to follow orders.” You caress his cheek. He turns away from your touch. “Even after all that…you're still trying to keep up this facade?” You pull away and turn him onto his stomach. “You won't be able to pretend any longer, Miguel.” You raise his ass in the air and plunge your length fully into him. He gasps. Miguel doesn't even get a minute to adjust to the new position thanks to you suddenly pounding into him. He rolls his eyes back, letting out uncontrollable moans as you fuck the shame out of him. He can barely think over the explicit sounds of your hips snapping against his ass and the loud wet sounds of your cock sliding in and out of his sensitive pussy. You're going too fast for him to even try and act like he doesn't like it. He’s always had a thing for being treated roughly and you're fulfilling his need for it. You pull on his hair, causing him to let out an almost scream-like moan as he squirts.

“Fu- fuck-” He feels tears welling up in his eyes as you continue fucking him through his orgasm.

“‘M gonna give you the child you always wanted, Miguel.” You fuck him even rougher than before, chasing your orgasm. Tears flow rapidly from Miguel’s eyes, as if there was a blockage that contained all his tears and prevented him from crying all these years. He sobs, crying loudly as you overwhelm him with pleasure. It feels good but it's too much, he can't handle it. He loves it but he needs it to stop. “Ah, I love hearing you cry..” You slow down your thrusts and dump your load inside of him. Miguel uses this break to finally catch his breath and calm down.

“Aw, was it too much for you, baby?” You coo, rubbing your hand down his back.

Miguel nods. “Ple- please..” He whimpers.

You pull out and turn him around. You pick him up and sink him down on your cock. You place your hands on his waist and kiss his cheek. “You’re so pretty when you cry, you know that?” You caress his face gently. He sniffles, not sure how to feel about that. You press your lips against his, kissing him slowly and sensually. Miguel reciprocates the kiss, following your tongue movements and subconsciously grinding down on your cock. He feels a little less stimulated than before. He feels like he's about to have an orgasm that’ll never come and somehow it feels good. He doesn't know how he feels about you now but you make him feel good, and thanks to the current state of mind he's in now, that's all that matters.

You pull away from the kiss and pepper kisses down his throat and to his chest. You undo the clip in the middle of his bra, causing the two cups to separate and reveal his breasts. You latch onto his nipple, sucking it gently while your hand goes to pull and twist on the other one. Miguel whimpers in pleasure. His nipples are so sensitive, he’ll definitely come from this. “mmh..” Miguel grinds down harder as he orgasms, his pussy clenching and unclenching around your length. You pull away from his nipple, your saliva dripping down the brown bud.

He still despises you but he knows he'll be stuck with you from now on. He’ll eventually learn to love you.

Miguel turns on the radio as he starts cooking breakfast. The reporter talks about all the crime going on in the city and he doesn't seem to care, even though he’s back to normal and completely autonomous, he has no intention of going out to fight. He wants to stay home with you. The Spider Society’s been trying to contact him but he's ignored all their calls. He only leaves the house for dates and groceries, why would he go anywhere without you? He loves you so much, he wants to stay by your side as much as he can. Nobody seems to understand it but he doesn't care to explain it to them. Peter B. and Jessica have been trying to convince Miguel to come back and many spider people have tried to kill you but to no avail. He doesn't want to come back, especially not when they're trying to kill his beloved. He’s perfectly content with where he is now and he can't wait to have his first child with you.

[sadseungmin]

♡ sex with psychotic hyung-line ♡

psychotic hyung-line x reader | gender neutral | dead dove | nsfw (MDNI)

⚠︎ Bang Chan ⚠︎

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!chan is possessive & intensely passionate during sex *✧･ﾟ:*

During sex, Chan's possessiveness translates into an intense, almost primal passion. He wants to mark your skin--his territory--with dark love bites and bruises, ensuring you know that you belong to him and only him. Expect a lot of eye contact, biting, and gripping hands as if he's afraid you might disappear. Chan's intensity borders on roughness, but it's all driven by a deep, obsessive love.

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!chan is obsessively devoted & tender during sex *✧･ﾟ:*

Chan believes sex is an act of worship. He lavishes attention on every part of your body, wanting to memorize and own every inch. His touches are gentle but possessive, his kisses long and lingering. He whispers sweet nothings and reassurances, reminding you constantly of his undying love and your irreplaceable place in his life.

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!chan is dominating & controlling during sex *✧･ﾟ:*

Chan craves control, and this desire extends to the bedroom. He takes on a dominant role, orchestrating the entire experience to his liking. His commands are firm but laced with a dark, seductive tone that makes obedience almost irresistible. Chan enjoys teasing, edging you until you're begging for release, savoring the power he holds. Despite the control, there's a twisted care in his action, ensuring your pleasure is paramount, albeit on his terms.

"Face down, ass up--I don't care if you're tired. I need to fuck you until your insides are in the shape of my cock. Do you understand, baby? Be good for me, yeah?"

⚠︎ Lee Minho ⚠︎

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!minho is manipulative & teasing during sex *✧･ﾟ:*

Minho enjoys having complete control over your pleasure, playing with you until you're pleading and crying for release. His teasing is relentless and borderline cruel, pushing you to the edge again and again without allowing you to climax until he decides. This control satisfies his darker impulses, making him feel powerful and in command. You will be left in a state of heightened desire, completely at his mercy.

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!minho is protective & intense during sex *✧･ﾟ:*

Minho wants to ensure you feel safe and cherished, albeit in his own intense way. His touches are both possessive and tender, a mix of roughness and gentleness. He's vocal about his need to protect you, whispering assurances and praises a he brings you pleasure. This duality of protectiveness and intensity makes the experience deeply emotional and physically overwhelming.

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!minho aims to fulfill his dark fantasies during sex *✧･ﾟ:*

Minho wants to explore darker fantasies with you. He enjoys pushing boundaries, indulging in role-play and scenarios that are as thrilling as they are intense. You are the center of these unconventional fantasies, and Minho ensures your experiences are as immersive as possible. This could involve sex toys, blindfolds, restraints, and detailed role-play scenarios that feed his darker desires while ensuring you are always a willing participant, fully immersed in the shared fantasy.

"Awe, my poor little kitten. Did I put the vibrator on the highest setting? Be careful, thrashing about will only make the restraints tighter! You just gotta take it like the good kitty I trained you to be. And don't you dare fucking cum."

⚠︎ Seo Changbin ⚠︎

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!changbin is overwhelmingly dominant during sex *✧･ﾟ:*

Changbin's psychotic tendencies amplify his need for dominance, resulting in overwhelming and commanding sexual encounters. Changbin takes full control, ensuring you know who is in charge. His dominant nature means he likes to assert his power physically, using his strength to pin you down or lift you effortlessly. His intensity is matched by his deep desire to see you submit completely, finding pleasure in your surrender and the raw power he holds over you.

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!changbin is fiercely passionate & obsessive during sex *✧･ﾟ:*

Changbin is intensely focused on you during sex, handling you with rough and tender touches. His passion is overwhelming, driven by an obsessive need to make you feel pleasure like never before. He's quite loud while fucking you, expressing his love and desire with a mix of growls and whispered confessions, ensuring you know just how deeply obsessed he is with you.

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!changbin is sadistic & controlling during sex *✧･ﾟ:*

Changbin's psychotic nature includes a sadistic streak, taking pleasure in the control he has over your pleasure and pain. He enjoys mixing pleasure with a hint of pain, such as using light bondage or impact play, always ensuring it's pleasurable. Your reactions to this mix of sensations drive him feral, and he takes careful note of what brings you to the edge, pushing boundaries to keep things exciting and intense.

"See, sweetie? I told you I'd make it fit! Doesn't it feel good to be split open on my cock like this? Oh, don't mind the blood, sweetie; it just means your hole is adjusting to become my perfect fleshlight. Fuck, I'm so in love with you!"

⚠︎ Hwang Hyunjin ⚠︎

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!hyunjin is unpredictable & wild during sex *✧･ﾟ:*

Sex with Hyunjin would be wild and spontaneous. Hyunjin is driven by sudden impulses and desires, making each encounter different from the last. One moment, he's gentle and sweet, and the next, he's rough and demanding. This unpredictability keeps you on edge, never quite knowing what to expect but always thrillingly intense. During sex, his actions are driven by a chaotic mix of love and obsession.

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!hyunjin is obsessively attentive to detail during sex *✧･ﾟ:*

Hyunjin is fixated on every reaction you make, memorizing every gasp and moan. His goal is to drive you to the brink of ecstasy and back, learning exactly what makes you tick. This can mean prolonged foreplay, where he explores every inch of your body with a meticulous, almost clinical precision, ensuring they're completely overwhelmed by pleasure.

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!hyunjin is darkly & possessively affectionate during sex *✧･ﾟ:*

Hyunjin's affection is dark and possessive, and during sex, this manifests in thrilling, yet terrifying way. He likes to remind you that you're his and his alone, using a mix of physical restraint and verbal affirmation. Hyunjin will bind your hands, whispering in your ear about how no else can have you, all while driving you to the heights of pleasure. His touch is a mix of rough and tender, balancing his darker impulses with genuine care.

"Your body is my favorite canvas, angel. Every inch of you is mine and mine alone. Every mark I leave on your skin, every drop of my cum that paints the inside of your walls is just a testament to that."

[moonstruckme]

I absolutely love your writing!! Could I request some hurt/comfort poly!marauders? Like maybe people are judging/really rude to reader about their relationship and the boys defend her and their relationship and make her feel better 🥹

Absolutely you can! Hope this is what you were looking for babe <3

cw: bullying, sexual shaming

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

“Whore,” Lucius hisses as he brushes past you in the hall. 

You hear James’ inhale beside you a second before you whirl. “What was that, Malfoy?”

“Too fucked out to hear me?” he sneers, coming to a stop and turning to face you. Your heart stutters at his words, but you’re careful not to let anything show on your face. “Don’t suppose you’re good for much except sucking dick, but I have to say, I’m impressed those Gryffindors caught onto it before the rest of us. I mean, why else would they bring you in on their precious trio?” His lip curls, and while there’s amusement there, there’s also genuine disgust that makes some small, pathetic part of you shrivel up in shame. “Slut.” 

“Sweetheart?” James asks, and you wonder if the restraint in his voice is as obvious to everyone else as it is to you. Want me to step in here?

You shake your head at him, but your stare is zeroed in on Lucius. You pout at him sympathetically. “I know it must be hard for you to understand. How’d I get three hot people interested in me, when you can't even get one to look your way?” You shoot him your best impression of Sirius’ wolfish grin. “Don’t worry, Malfoy, someone will come along who’s into all your inbred, Nazi bullshit one day. Maybe even a cousin, if you’re lucky!”

You continue back on your way, pretending you don’t need the steadying hand James rests at the small of your back as you stride down the hall. You make it through the common room, up the stairs, and into the boys’ dorm room before you lose momentum, releasing a shell-shocked, tremulous breath. 

James’ arms are around you in an instant, though it takes you a second longer to melt into his embrace. 

“Are you okay? You seemed like you wanted to handle it yourself, but I wasn’t sure.” 

You take a deep breath. “No, you were right. Thanks, Jamie. It just would have made it worse if it looked like I couldn’t defend myself.” 

There’s a shuffling of sheets, and you turn your head to find you’d been so distracted you hadn’t noticed Remus on his bed, studying. He sits up to look at the pair of you with concerned amber eyes, a question evident in his face. 

James saves you from responding, clutching you tighter and pressing a kiss to your head. “Had a run-in with Malfoy.” 

Remus sighs, the sound knowing. “That’s never good, is it?” His gaze falls squarely on you. “You alright, lovely?” 

You nod automatically, though your hands are trembling slightly. You’ve never been good at conflict, but pricks like Malfoy sometimes require you to rise to the occasion. It bothers you that someone like him, whom you don’t respect and whose opinion you couldn’t value less, can still rattle you like this. You know your relationship is unconventional, but it’s good. You haven’t been dating for very long, but you feel the rightness of it every day. Your boyfriends treat you better than anyone can reasonably deserve. You love them. Still…

“Do you think that’s what everyone thinks?” You extricate yourself from James, trying not to sound as pathetic as you feel. At Remus’ bemused expression, you add, “That you guys are only dating me because I put out, I mean.” 

James looks horrified. “Do you think that?”

“No,” you say, apparently too quickly, because neither boy looks like they believe you. “I don’t. I just…I don’t know, it’s stupid to care what people think, right?”

James bites his lip, and Remus looks at you consideringly. “I wouldn’t call it stupid,” he says after a moment. “It may not be the best guiding principle to always do what people want you to, but they’re not usually easy to ignore either.”

You heave a sigh, collapsing onto Sirius’ empty bed. “Exactly. I don’t want everyone calling me a slut all the time now.” 

Remus’ eyebrows shoot up. “What exactly did Malfoy say to you?”

You hesitate, looking to James in the hopes he’ll answer for you again, but before either of you can say anything, Sirius whooshes in the door. 

He completely fails to read the room, all bright eyes and good spirits as he struts over to his bed and leans down over you, his forearms on either side of your head. 

“I just heard about your Malfoy kerfuffle from Marlene,” he says, kissing you with a smack. “That’s my girl.” 

You can’t help but smile a little, his energy infectious. James gets in on the action too, patting your cheek as he sits down beside the two of you. “She was pretty amazing,” he says. “I thought Malfoy was going to shit the stick right out of his ass.” 

“Alright,” Remus says, the tiniest hint of impatience in his tone, “apparently I need to be caught up. What happened?”

“Our sweet angel said that Malfoy gets no bitches,” Sirius proclaimed proudly. “And then she told him to fuck one of his cousins.” 

“Well,” you say sheepishly, sitting up, “that’s not exactly word-for-word.” 

Remus quirks an eyebrow, but he’s smiling. “No? Give me the summary, then.”

“Basically, Malfoy said you guys only brought me in on your relationship because I put out, and uh, something about me only being good for sucking dick,” you say hesitantly, as if every word he uttered isn’t going to be seared into your memory forever. “So then I said he was jealous that I got three people to like me while he has no one, but…um, I did say something like maybe if he was lucky, he’d find a cousin that was into him.” 

All three of the boys are grinning at you, and Sirius plants another smacker on your cheek. 

“Attagirl,” Remus says, nodding approvingly. 

“Thanks.” You hope your face isn’t as red as it feels. “I guess now, I’m just a little worried that Lucius was just the only one who would say something? Like, what if everyone else is thinking the same thing?”

“Sweetheart,” James says, reaching around you to rub your upper arm comfortingly, “anyone who’s spoken to you for, like, point five seconds is gonna know that’s not true.” 

“Wait.” Sirius shakes his head, working to catch up to the conversation that started when he wasn’t in the room. “Are you really worried about what that prick said?”

You shrug, sheepish and a bit ashamed. “It’s not him, it’s more like…my classmates, and my professors. I wonder who agrees with him.” 

“Baby, anyone who agrees with Lucius Malfoy is just placing themselves in the same camp of idiots he’s in,” Sirius insists. His tone is light, but his eyes lock in on yours, feeling out how serious you are about this. “Our relationship isn’t anybody’s business, but our friends already know how you are, and they’ll defend you to anyone who asks.”

Remus nods. “Agreed. If anyone wants to believe that sort of baseless, cruel gossip, they’re probably not the lot you want to be around anyways. Just like Malfoy, yeah? If you cared what he thought,” Remus pauses to raise a playful eyebrow at you, “you probably wouldn’t be suggesting he fuck his cousins.” 

You grin. “Please, like he needed my encouragement on that one. You’re right, though, thanks.” 

James squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t let him get in your head, sweetheart. Everyone who matters already knows he’s full of shit.” 

“Yeah, and you should’ve heard Marl boasting about you in the common room,” Sirius adds. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she buys your butterbeers next time we’re in Hogsmeade.” 

You laugh, but stop when Remus levels you with a serious look. “Anyone talks like that to you again, you come straight to us, understand?”

You nod, and Sirius drags you into his side, eager to lighten the mood again. “Yeah,” he declares, “if anyone’s calling you a slut, it needs to be consensual, and it ought to be me.”

[love-bitesx]

May I request a hobie x fem reader

Reader is also a spider person and dating hobie. she gets in a fight with other spider people that been talking about hobie behind his back, And he just comfort her and help with her injuries.

: ̗̀➛ HONOUR. hobie brown x fem!reader

summary: after hearing fellow spider-people talking rudely about hobie, y/n defends him, taking a couples punches in the process. words: 1.6k warnings: fem reader, she/her pronouns used, mentions of blood & injury, miguels pissy like always, general mentions of fighting/violence

thank you sm for the request!! i hope i did it justice. im getting through all the asks, so pls be patient! ily all sm

"he's just a bit freaky, you know."

shoulders tensing, you eavesdropped on a pair of haphazard spider-people, their snark voices carrying through the reverberant room. you were sitting by the 'go-home machine' – aptly named – waiting for miguel to arrive and dish out orders, listening to them tattle about hobie brown.

"literally," a second voice tagged themselves in, jumping on the wagon of comments, "just turns up, acts like a prick and somehow everyone puts up with him."

chest burning, you tried to grasp your composure, gripping onto it with white knuckles – similar treatment given to the metallic desk you sat on.

first hand, you saw how hard hobie worked – having been dating him for a while now. though he lived to deny it, saying he was only in the spider society to look after you, gwen and pavitr - you constantly experienced his passion for keeping you all safe. even if its unconventional, he deserved his place here more than anyone.

"don't know what miguel was thinking bringing him here," the first spider snarled, a hint of a smirk lacing his tone, "he's useless."

stomach twisting, you physically bit down on your tongue - miguel would kill you in broad daylight if you started a fight in the headquarters (ironic, you thought, but you didn't want to bite the hand that fed you).

"freakshow, honestly," the other muttered, followed by a cold-hearted guffaw that made your blood spurt past the boiling point, "he doesn't even belong here."

as though someone had physically flipped your restraint, severing your ties, you turned to the duo, taking them by surprise when you shot a web in their direction, sticking the second man's mouth shut.

"what the hell?" the free one spun to you, stance ready.

you kept your posture strong, enraged eyes trained on him, "don’t be such a prick,” you spat through a clenched jaw. wrist aching at the urge to web him to the wall, your fingers itched.

he scoffed, stepping up to you, “i don’t think it’s any of your business, sweetheart.”

in your peripheral, your eyes caught the sight of the second spider clawing at the webs smothering his face, and you shot again – his hands now clasped together against his chest like a prayer.

a second audacious scoff sounded from the man in front of you, and a threatening tingle vibrated each and every bone of your spine – your spidey-senses alive with caution. it quickly became apparent why, when a fist flew towards the side of your head – an aggressive muttering of “oi, what do you think you’re doing?” accompanying it.

an inch before it connected, you ducked your head, crouching to the floor and kicking at the man’s knees. he buckled, falling to the ground and your fist collided with his jaw. your rage clouded your vision, adrenaline pumping through your veins like a poison. knuckles aching, pulled back, you webbed him to the concrete.

“y/n?” margo called from behind you, and you turned to see her. eyes wide like saucers, she looked at you with confusion.

“they start—” you couldn’t even finish your sentence when a powerful blow hit the side of your cheek, knocking you to the side, hip smashing into the corner of a desk.

shielding yourself with your arms, you caught vision of your attacker; the first man you webbed had freed himself, pouncing to you in defence. yelling something ending in “bitch”, he swung again, crashing into your ribs and you groaned in pain, connecting your web to a beam just behind him, pulling yourself away from his towering stance. with your new advantage, though winded, you raised your wrist to web him once more, when the huge, mechanical doors swung open.

“what the hell is going on in here?” miguel’s booming voice thundered across each vibrating wall, and you both froze, your arm gripped around your aching ribcage.

accompanying him was a cluster of spider-people, excluding your boyfriend. they took a second to adjust to the darkness of the room, before they halted at the scene in front of him.

“she went crazy, miguel!” the man on the floor shouted in defence, and your chest was heaving so heavily, you were at a loss for words.

“y/n, what happened?” gwen’s tone was soft, you could feel them approaching, your adrenaline draining through your body – taking any comprehensible inhibition with it.

“he swung at me!” you barked back, and the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you made your chest swell in anger, “don’t spin this on me when they’re the ones who started it.”

“we didn’t do anything!” unwebbing themselves from the floor, you stared at them, your eyes alive with rage, “she just came at us for no reason. she’s crazy, man.”

“i’m not—”

“enough! all of you!” miguel’s voice was heavy with anger, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t send a shot of fear to pierce your chest, breaking through the bone.

“i don’t care what happened,” he spat, looking at you like you were dirt on his shoe, “you two,” he pointed at your attackers, “get out.”

without a word of complaint, they filtered out behind your petrifying boss, and his enraged eyes fell on you.

"you," he paused, stepping until his lofty stature towered you, "you're one of our best, and you're picking stupid fights?"

"you don't understand, they–" you tried, grasping desperately at your side.

"i don't care what happened," he repeated his earlier quip, "it's not happening again, got it?"

reluctantly, you nodded, and he could practically see the flames in your iris, it burnt you to give over.

"go home, y/n."

"miguel–" gwen tried to intervene, but miguel wasn't paying attention.

"go home."

sitting on your bathroom counter, you struggled with the first-aid kit, hands trembling in pain as you attempted to patch up the skin that sat split open on your cheekbone. frustrated, you slammed the bandages and compact mirror down on the hard surface, chest burning with annoyance.

spine fuzzing, you felt the empty space change in your apartment, the tingling of static air putting you on edge.

"darlin'? you in 'ere?" hobie's rich voice carried through the walls, and you sighed in relief.

"hobie?" the bathroom door creaked open and he was standing there, dark eyes taking in your wounded appearance.

"fucking 'ell," he muttered, booted feet taking him to you, calloused hands gentle against your cheeks.

"you should see the other guy," a half-hearted smile played at your lips and you were melting into him, your anger subsiding, "well, guys."

"i heard," his expression didn't change, but his eyes scanned your open wound, "gwen wanted me to tell you she thinks you're badass."

a chuckle resonated in your throat, and you immediately regretted it as the vibration shot a bullet of pain through your bruised ribs. that's what hobie's mood shifted, his brows furrowed in worry and lifting your chin to him.

"what 'appened, pretty?" he reached for the first-aid kit, pushing your legs open to step between them – he tended to your wound softly, "can you tell me?"

hesitation brung you to a halt and you bit your lip. you had fought over him, defending him when he couldn't, but part of you wasn't sure how he would react. he saw this, sensing the tension in your chest, and longed to catch a glimpse inside your mind.

"look, i can't 'ave my girl get done up and not tell me what 'appened," a flash of his teeth as he smiled, and you reflected this, a tired grin on your lips.

"it was just," you sighed, wincing as he pressed a cloth to your cut, "they were being so rude."

"about you, darlin'? good on ya, defending yourself," he muttered affirmingly, dabbing the blood away.

"about you."

he stopped then. your eyes darted across his face for any signs of a reaction, nerves building in your throat. seconds of silence followed, and the air between you both almost dissipated as the tension grew. hobie squashed it, though.

pulling your face to his, he kissed you. lips warm with passion and respect, they melted together. hand falling to your waist, you were flush against him, the heat of his body overwhelming any of the pain pulsing in your skin. relief washed over you instantly. stress from the day just withering away at the power of his adoration.

breaking the kiss, hobie rested his forehead against yours, both chests heaving in tandem.

"you didn't 'ave to do that, darlin'," he muttered, and his brain was so conflicted. whilst his heart raced at the thought of you putting yourself in harms way to defend him, he felt guilty at how much pain it put you in to do so.

"you know i'd do anything for you, hobie." and his heart settled at that statement, nuzzling itself in the all-encompassing feeling of love overcoming him.

not feeling the need to do anything else, he kissed you again, this time with such a force you leaned back under the weight of him, shoulders pressed into the mirror. he was gripping your thighs, as to not tamper with the swelling bruise on your hip, and you succumbed to your boyfriend, lost in his touch, pouting when he pulled away.

"miguel's well pissed at you, by the way," he chuckled, cheeks flushed, massaging the skin of your thigh.

"i'm surprised it didn't happen earlier," you giggled, not excited to return to hq and see him again when needed.

placing a trail of kisses from your forehead to your lips, hobie's eyes softened.

"so proud of you, pretty."

[wreckingtickles]

Ruffling Their Feathers

Bakugo and Todoroki are captured by the double-crossing Hawks, and they happen to have the second half of a code he and Dabi want. Hawks has a very... unconventional idea on how to get them to talk.

Characters: Lees Baku + Todo, ler Hawks (minor ler Dabi)

Words: 7,312

Couldn't find a similar picture for Todoroki (I need an archive of MHA characters looking might ticklish), so Bakugo's footer will have to do.

That frown's going away real soon.

Very intense and barely SFW foot tickles below the cut!

“It’s your fault!”

“It’s no one’s fault. We couldn’t have known that there was a traitor in the squad.”

Bakugo and Todoroki’s latest one-sided argument, a staple of their relationship since the provisional license course, was caused by their capture at the hands of the League of Villains.

It had all begun with a typo. They were supposed to be at the agency by 15:15, but the message they received instructed them to be there at 14:15. So they’d arrived just in time to see Hawks download the codes to the heroes’ secret communications channel, only half of which was given to each team.

They didn’t remember much else prior to waking up in that square, empty room, seated side by side facing the door that would usher in who knew what horrors.

The irritation at being taken out so easily was compounded by their inability to access their Quirks, which had them more than a little worried, as did their restraints: their wrists were fitted through two holes in the middle of a set of stocks that also held their ankles, one at either side of their hands, so they were hunched forward with their knees bent. The most concerning part, however, was the fact that on top of every part of their costumes that could be used as a weapon or contain hidden gadgets, their boots had also been removed and each of their toes pulled back and restrained individually, just barely out of reach of their fingers. It didn’t need a genius to surmise that if they couldn’t break out soon, they would be tortured.

Bakugo badly needed someone to blame, and Todoroki was the perfect anvil to his hammer. But the half-and-half hero wouldn’t need to wait for his crabby companion to run out of steam as Dabi and Hawks walked into the room.

“Hello, boys!” said Hawks cheerfully, greeting them as if they’d just come across each other in a shopping center.

“Fuck you, you disgusting two-faced piece of shit!”

“Traitor,” greeted Todoroki.

“I appreciate you’re angry and disappointed, but understand that, from my perspective, your good intentions are getting in the way of true justice,” explained Hawks, mostly to Todoroki, as Bakugo’s barrage of epithets made conversation with him impossible.

Dabi leaned against the wall next to the door, both glaring at Todoroki.

“Now, let me reassure you that your Quirks aren’t gone forever. We only take drastic measures if they’re strictly necessary,” explained the feathered villain.

“Your father will still have a use for you,” uttered Dabi with a venomous grin. “That is, unless we choose to ruin you for good.”

“Come on, Dabi, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar!”

“And you kill more moths with fire.” A blue flame appeared in his palm, the sight of which finally silenced Bakugo. “So?”

“If my methods don’t work, you’re free to have your way with them,” conceded Hawks. “But I know it will. I tested them. Leave this to me.”

“Forget it. You’re an idiot and you’re wasting everybody’s time. The only reason we’re doing it your way for now is that Shigaraki put you in charge of their interrogation, and that’s only because he doesn’t know about your ridiculous plan.”

“Shouldn’t you have had this discussion before coming in here?” interjected Todoroki.

Dabi glared, taking a step towards Todoroki, who gave a start.

Bakugo gave him the side eye. He shouldn’t be showing fear. But Dabi had stopped his advance, a nonplussed look on his face, while Todoroki kept fidgeting next to Bakugo.

Before Bakugo could wonder what was happening, his head whipped forward with alarm as he felt something on his right foot. A light, insistent pressure moving up his sole, heel to toes, then back down. He hafted in place, but no matter how much he stretched his fingers, he couldn’t even reach his toes.

What was that?!

“As I was saying,” resumed Hawks, stepping closer to the captives, wings beginning to unfurl, “I need the second half of the code for the agency’s comms, and you guys will give it to us.”

“Or?” spat Bakugo, Todoroki growing more restless next to him. He saw a red feather detach itself from the top of Hawks’s left wing and fly through the air towards him, specifically towards his left foot, where it began to move erratically, dragging its plumes across his arch. But even though Bakugo now understood what the pressure on both of his soles was, it didn’t click for him until Hawks said, “I’ll tickle it out of you.”

Bakugo should have been relieved. They weren’t going to hurt them, at least for the time being. But all he could feel was outraged, outraged that Hawks seriously thought that they’d sell out the pros over something so childish, so insignificant. “Are you fucking kidding me?! Just because it’s so easy for you to sell out, do you really think--"

And then he heard it. A chuckle. Not from Hawks, not even from Dabi. From Todoroki. To his left, Todoroki was jerking his legs, his face scrunched in an attempt to stifle an obvious smile and the sounds of mirth that were trying to spill out of his mouth.

Bakugo felt betrayed for the second time that day. “You gotta be shitting me.” 

Todoroki could feel every plume, every tiny barb on the tip of each of those two feathers as it bent to fit the curve of his sole, dozens, hundreds of them being dragged up and down the bottom of his straight, slim feet.

Hawks smirked while Dabi looked transfixed, almost as speechless as Bakugo. “Well, well, look at Endeavor’s prized spawn now,” he commented as he allowed the corner of his lip to curl up ever so slightly.

“Dude, for real?!” whined Bakugo, but Todoroki couldn’t answer, as he kept squirming and whipping his head side to side, his eyes scrunched shut.

“I, I cahan’t h-hehelp it!” whine the half-and-half hero, instantly regretting trying to speak as he had to double his efforts to prevent any even more embarrassing sounds from coming out. Having grown up with a criminally abusive father and having been separated from his siblings, the only person who had tickled him for most of his life was his mother, and a long time had gone by since the last time. Then, when he began attending UA, first Deku and then Kirishima allowed Todoroki to discover that he was, in fact, still ticklish, and very much so, as if he had never been inured to it, which also led to another crucial difference between him and Bakugo: while the latter wouldn’t allow himself to laugh unless his very worst spots were targeted (though his poker face was terrible), Todoroki was completely unable to cope with the sensation and stifle his reactions.

And the two feathers were barely trying at all.

“Your ‘method’ doesn’t seem to be working on the other one,” observed Dabi. Sure, watching Endeavor’s son squirm from something so silly was entertaining, but they were supposed to move out as soon as Shigaraki called them, and to have the information by then.

“Of course it doesn’t fucking work, who do you think you’re dealing with?!”

Hawks shrugged. “I can also do this.”

“Like this stupid fucking thing is going to work oHOn--!” 

Bakugo bit his tongue when the plume ends of the feathers were replaced by their sharp quills.

“That silenced him? Good,” remarked Dabi.

“D-Don’t be an idiot, t-this is nothing!!” protested Bakugo, wincing when the feathers scratched at the ball of his foot.

Next to him, Todoroki went on eeping with his eyes scrunched shut. He didn’t have so strong an opinion as Bakugo on which method was worse yet, but both were proving quite effective, especially when the feathers trailed up and down his arches.

“I think you heard him,” Dabi told Hawks, suddenly appearing a lot more into it than before.

“I sure did,” claimed Hawks as he grinned at Bakugo a moment before a flock of feathers flew off his wings and swarmed the captives’ soles.

“TCH!!” escaped Bakugo’s lips, his cheeks puffed up and becoming a deeper shade of red every second.

Todoroki skipped the giggling phase entirely. “Noahahahahahahahahahahahahhaaha!!!! Iihihihhihit tihihihicklehehehehehsss!!!!” he protested, a surprisingly innocent expression of mirthful suffering on his face that would have melted anyone’s heart. Anyone’s, but his current tickler’s.

“You really should have kept your mouth shut,” commented Dabi as he shot the beet-red, thrashing Bakugo an amused grin, voicing Todoroki’s thoughts while the trainee was too busy failing to cope with the onslaught of sensation.

Hawks was thorough. There was a feather sawing between the heroes’ toes and swiping at the stems, while the tip of another ran left and right across their base. There was a quill scratching at the center of the ball and spiraling outward and another outlining the underside. Plumes teased the inner part of the instep while another feather ran up and down the arch, and two more focused on the heel and its conjunction with the arch.

The feathers on Bakugo’s feet all used their quill end, save for the ones sawing between his toes, while the ones working Todoroki over mixed and matched approaches. It was the weirdest and most humiliating display of masterful control over one’s Quirk that either trainee had ever experienced.

Unbridled laughter spilled forth from Todoroki, the variety of methods and the multiplicity of spots under fire subjecting him to a sensation that he’d only started to reacquaint himself with a few months prior thanks to his classmates, who’d been delighted to discover that the serious golden child was super ticklish and didn’t know how to handle it in the slightest. 

His left foot was proving to be once again more sensitive than the right, though even just the latter would have been enough to turn him into a hysterical mess. The colder sole was not as vulnerable to the plumes as the left, upon which plumes and quills wreaked twinned havoc.

Seeing the trainee writhe like he was experiencing actual torture sparked a miasma of disgust in the pit of Dabi’s stomach. “Endeavor’s son just gave up, uh,” he mocked. “I’m kind of disappointed.” Yet the amused twinkle in his eye gave the lie to his bored tone.

“He really laughs like he’s never been tickled before,” chuckled Hawks, effortlessly multitasking while putting the two aspiring heroes through their paces. “Guess his home life wasn’t the best. Well, we’re going to make him real happy unless he fesses up.”

The miasma began to lift as Dabi contemplated Todoroki’s helplessness in the face of the ridiculous torment. But if his laughter sparked conflicting feelings of contempt and morbid fascination in the villain, Bakugo was far less ambivalent about how he felt about it.

He loathed it. He truly did. He wanted to punch the hero for letting those degenerates think that… that preposterous, humiliating method would work. Todoroki’s hilarity was peer-pressuring him into giving in as well, surrendering to the overpowering invitation of the over a dozen quills searing his nerves, loosening the locks on his lungs and lips from which a cacophony of grunts, snorts, and even embarrassing yelps slipped out, but no laughter, no, no laughter, it if was the last thing he did!!

What Dabi and Hawks saw was an extremely ticklish guy bellowing and writhing like he was being electrocuted.

“He really hates it,” deadpanned Dabi.

Having an already solid grasp on what made the short-fused trainee tic despite having known him for a few days only, Hawks took that chance to say, “I don’t know if I should be impressed that he’s not laughing his head off despite being so ticklish, or pity him for thinking that he’s fooling anyone.”

“KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! GHHHHHHHH!!! SH-SHHUUUUUUUTTT-- NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!” Nope, no talking.

Hawks’s smirk grew a little wider. It’d be so easy to crack him. But… “It would be healthier if you let it out, you look like you’re about to pop a vein,” he recommended as he had his feathers move slightly faster. Dabi didn’t notice the shift except through the rise in pitch in Todoroki’s laughter and Bakugo’s pointless struggling growing even more desperate.

If only they could reach their feet, shield them from the pesky feathers, they were right there, just out of reach!!

Suddenly, the tickling slowed down. None of the feathers left their post, but they eased up enough that the terribly ticklish captives would be able to understand Hawks’s next words.

“M-Motherf--" Bakugo tried to say while catching his breath, allowing some of his contracted muscles to relax, but he couldn’t risk getting the entire word out.

Todoroki’s laughter decreased to a steady stream of breathless giggles. The tears at the corners of his half-closed eyes, the blush on his cheeks, the forced yet carefree-looking smile… Hawks had to admit that he looked precious.

“Now, let’s practice loosening your tongues a little,” Hawks started, pacing around them like a drill sergeant. “I assume neither of you wants to spill the beans yet?”

Bakugo lunged at him with a bite, but Hawks was out of reach.

“Baby steps. So I’ll make you an offer. If you tell me where it tickles the most I promise I will be nice…r.”

Dabi quirked an eyebrow. Really?

Hawks nodded back confidently, stopping in front of the two trainees. “You don’t want me to find out on my own.”

Bakugo and Todoroki glared as well as they could under their present circumstances.

“Any takers?” Hawks asked nonchalantly.

Even Todoroki made a show of clenching his jaw, although sputtering giggles soon leaked out.

“Too bad,” sighed Hawks. “For you, I mean.”

Without warning, the eight feathers tormenting each foot converged on the heel, scribbling madly at and all around the mound.

“Nohohoht agahahahahaahhaahinnn!!!” giggled Todoroki, his shoulders rising and falling as he tried and failed to pull his feet back through the stocks, scrunch up his soles, cover them with his hands, anything.

“TCH! F-Fuhuck t-thihis!!!” snarled Bakugo, his restlessness mirroring Todoroki’s but with a more irate tinge.

“Hey Dabi, wanna compare and contrast?” asked Hawks.

“Leave me out of it.”

“I thought Todoroki was the most ticklish of the two, but I’m not so sure anymore,” said Hawks, knowing how to push Bakugo’s buttons.

“GGGGGGGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!”

“I can’t really tell. Let’s try the arch.”

The avian congregation climbed a little higher, up the slope of the arch. About half of the feathers harassing Todoroki switched to sawing their plumes up and down his arch, left and right, while Bakugo, whom Hawks knew to be less responsive to this method, got the full sixteen quills.

“Ohohohohohoh nohohoOOOOOOOOOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHA!!! NOOOOHAHHAHAHAAT THEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEREEEEE!!!”

Todoroki’s giggling once again morphed into full-blown laughter, the loudest as of yet. Though the strength behind his attempts to break free seemed to have waned before, he redoubled his futile efforts, pulling at his wrists and ankles as if it would save him, or somehow make the sensation more bearable.

“Looks like I’ve found a sweet spot,” gloated Hawks, but he wasn’t content with that apparent victory. He carefully observed Todoroki’s body language, noticing that every few seconds, he would lean to the right, until his energy ebbed and he slumped forward again, only to repeat the maneuver moments later as the feathers completed another pass. He didn’t seem to be trying to lean closer to Bakugo, no, there was something else… afoot. And Hawks thought he knew exactly what that was.

But that wasn’t all that he noticed. Bakugo had lowered his head, no doubt to prevent the villains from seeing his expression - as if his body wasn't eloquent enough. That position would only hinder his breathing, depleting his stamina faster and making it even harder to endure a prolonged attack. Hawks wondered if he was even aware of the high-pitched whine, like the wind-up to a scream, that he was emitting as he desperately tried to keep his mouth closed. But the most interesting part was how Bakugo would occasionally freeze up for a moment when the quills hit the very top of the arch, only for him to kick with both legs an instant later.

Hawks tested his theory by having the feathers linger on that spot a couple of seconds longer than they did during previous passes. Sure enough, Bakugo’s purple face shot up for a moment, the curses he wanted to utter dying into a defeated growl.

Hawks knew he could have broken him simply by staying there, but he had a flair for the dramatic. So he moved the feathers to the center of the arch, renewing Todoroki’s hysterical fit, before abruptly moving all the feathers to the balls of the heroes’ feet.

Bakugo’s head shot up again, this time to hurl a fiery glare at Hawks, equal parts incredulity and betrayal, but really, a recognition that breaking had always been inevitable.

“Three…” chanted Hawks, smiling at Bakugo, whose face looked like it was about to burst open.

“Tw--"

“FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHCCCCCKKKKKKKK!!!! IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILLLLL KIIIIIHIHIHIILLLL YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUHUHUHUHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAAA!!”

“Oh wow. When he breaks, he breaks hard,” remarked Hawks, pretending to cover one of his ears. Dabi ignored him, though he caught him sneaking glances at Todoroki, whose hysteria was eclipsed by the violence with which Bakugo’s damn had burst, but ever-present nonetheless.

There was no overselling the all-encompassing loathing that Bakugo felt at that moment, having fallen short of his own self-serving standards. It simply did not compute that a traitor who had everything Bakugo wanted would torture them in such a childish way, and that Bakugo would be unable to shrug it off.

The quills pricked and scratched at the sensitive pads, with a special regards for the very center as Hawks had immediately figured out it was one of the most sensitive parts, lavishing plenty of attention on the underside too, the perfect recipe to keep the resentful laughter flowing.

“FUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHCCKKK!!! YOHOHOUUHUHUHU BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASTAHAHAHAHARD!!! ILL KIIIIII-- STOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAPPPP THAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHATTTT!!!”

“This is great,” chuckled Hawks.

“You’re weird.”

Hawks shrugged. “Eh, it’s just fun to take them down a peg. Especially that one. Hey, are you laughing too hard to hear me? ‘Cause later, we’re spending plenty of time on that spot that you seem to like so much.”

Sadly, Bakugo could hear him, but any retort he tried to cook up got swallowed by the involuntary gales that those tiny, harmless feathers kept pumping out of him.

Though the journey from the ball of his foot to the toes was a very short one, Bakugo could tell Hawks was trying to drag it out as much as possible, slowly dragging the quills as well. There was an understanding that he wasn’t done.

The feathers then began sawing between and across the trainees’ toes. This method proved especially effective on Todoroki, the obvious jolt running through him confirming that that was a more sensitive spot than the ball, so Hawk kept five feathers per foot swishing between and along his toes while three more scratched at the base, occasionally poking the tips too.

But Hawks knew that he could do better with Bakugo, so he kept one quill poking and scribbling under the base of each toe, with the plume end of just one feather swishing across the stems, one quill planted firmly in the center of his big toe, and one more poking each of the other tips in turn.

The trainees didn’t have the chance to marvel at Hawks’s unmatched coordination, the combination of precision and effectiveness he was unleashing on them, but they certainly did feel its effects.

“Hahahaha HAHAHAAHAH!!! Nohohohohhoho moHOHOHohohahahahahaharrEHEHEHEHE!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHhahaahahahahahahhaahahahahahahahaha!!!” pleaded Todoroki, ticklish tears pouring down his cheeks and collecting on his seat between his legs. He felt as if he’d been abducted by aliens, unable to comprehend what was happening to him or why. Part of him probably felt embarrassed, but the shock, the absurdity of it all, removed his ego from the equation, leaving him alone before a sensation he’d only experienced a handful of times through his classmates, and through his mother so many years prior.

Bakugo wasn’t faring that much better. He was naturally louder than Todoroki, but for the first time in his life, he was trying to keep it down, and failing. Hawks couldn’t have devised a better method to tickle that area.

“HAHAHahahaahahahahaha!!! FIHIHIHIHght mehehEHEHEHE liiiihihihiKEEEHEHEH AAHAHAHA maaaahahahahahahahAAAAAHAHAHAHANNN!! OHOHOHO hahahahahahaha!!!”

“You want to fight me?” Hawks snickered. “I don’t fight widdle tickly babies.”

“SHHUUUUUUHAHAHAHAHAT!! UUHUHUUHAHAHAHAHAHHAPPP!!!!”

Oh, the sheer frustration Bakugo felt at his own ticklishness preventing him from discharging his anger was immense, but the imposed hilarity sapped even that.

Hawks walked around to his side. “It tickles less than before, right? I’m sure you can stop laughing if you really try. Come on!”

Bakugo was trying, he was trying so hard, and Hawks’s mockery messed even more with his concentration. But the genie was out of the bottle.

“HaahahahaHAHAHAHAHAH!!! ………….PPPPPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! HAHAHAahaahahahahahaha!!! NNNNNNNNGGGggggghhhhhh…………. ggggghAHHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Hawks began to circle around them, removing his black leather gloves as he did so. “Remember that this all will stop if you give me the code.”

He stopped in front of the stocks, throwing his gloves to Dabi, who reflexively caught them in mid-air and then dropped them.

He wiggled his fingers mere inches away from their feet. He waited long enough for them to see it, his left hand approaching Bakugo’s left sole, his right nearing Todoroki’s right, only to drift further to the side, to the left sole he’d determined to be more sensitive.

 “Don’t forget, this hawk has talons too.” And he struck.

Dabi nearly gave a start as the room got a lot louder than he’d expected.

“NOOOAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHHAHAHAAAAAAA!!! IHIHIHIHIHITT TIHIHIHHICKLEHEHEHESSSS!!! DOOOHOHOHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHN’T!!!”

“SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIHIHIHIHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHTTT!!! KEEHEHEHP YOUHUR FUHUHUHUHCKING HAHAHAHAHANDS… NAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!”

True to his word, Hawks had chosen violence. His short, dull nails scratched expertly at the ball of Bakugo’s foot and at the arch of Todoroki’s, having identified them as their weakest spots.

The volume and desperation of their laughter was all the confirmation he needed.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAH!!! STAAAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHPPP!!! YOUHUHUHHUHU CAHAHAHAHAAAAHAHAHAHANNN’T!!! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

“BWAHAHAHWHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! IHIHIHHILL KIHIHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!! CUHUHUT THAHAHAHAHAT OOOOOHUHUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHA!!! I SAHAHAHAHD-- NAHAHAHAHAHAHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!”

The feathers didn’t remain idle either. He left five on Todoroki’s right foot to complement the motions of his fingers, so they’d target his toes when he was busy with the arch, and the arch when he was busy with his toes, while the eleven on the left flitted back and forth between those two spots, skidding up and down the ball as well as they changed posts.

Hawks was no kinder to Bakugo, his wiggling fingers focusing on the ball and the base of his toes together with three feathers. The remaining fifteen ravaged the same two spots on his right foot, especially the center and underside of the pad. Naturally, all used their quill end.

It was pinpoint torment neither trainee knew how to deal with, Hawks’s dexterous touches appearing to raise the temperature and depleting their stamina and sanity alike while they felt their dignity slowly but sonorously leak out in the form of laughter they couldn’t control, the traitor having completely hijacked their ability to express themselves.

“As you can see, I’m a man of my word,” began Hawks. “Am I not?”

“EHEHEHHNOHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHGH!!! PLEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHASEEE!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! GHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHHAHAHHA!!! FUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHCK!!!”

“You gotta say it if you want me to stop. I’m a man of my word, am I not?”

Todoroki wasn’t completely opposed to indulging villains in case it made them complacent, while Bakugo’s ego was bound to get in the way of any concession. However, Todoroki’s reply was not the result of a calculation, but mere reflex.

“HAHAHAHAHHAHA!!! YEEEHAHAHAHAHAHHASSSS!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAAA!!!”

“He needs to say it too,” hummed Hawks, nodding his head toward Bakugo while his fingers picked up the pace.

Bakugo too was operating on reflex alone, and his instincts were inimical to their predicament.

“GHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!! EHEHEHEHHAT SHHAHHAHAHAAHHAAHT!!! FUUHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAAHHAHHAHAHAHACCCK!!!!”

“You hear that, Todoroki? My hands are tied. Well, yours are. And your feet too. Which makes it so easy for me to do this,” he explained as the feathers also began to move faster and the motions of his hands grew more unpredictable.

Todoroki all but howled. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!! BAHAHAHAHAHAAHKUUUUGOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! PLEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHASEEE!!!”

“SHIHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAATTTTT!!! FUHAHAHAHAHAHAHCKIHIHING TRAHAHAHAHAHITAHAHAHAHHAAR!!! STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAPPP!!!”

“Listen to your friend. Help him help you.” His nails moved to the ball of Bakugo’s right foot, the feathers instantly moving to compensate. 

Bakugo arched his back with such force the stocks creaked. “GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAH!!! SHIHIHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHTTT!!!! STAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAAPP! YOOOHUHU GOOHAHAHAHAHAHTTTTAAAAA STOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAPPP!!”

“I don’t gotta do anything. Say it. I’m a man of my word.”

“NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!!!!”

“Suit yourself. I’ll try again in 10 more minutes.”

The horror in their teary eyes and strained laughter was instantly apparent.

“SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAT!!! YEEEEEEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSSSS!!! YOHAHAHAHAH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHHAAHHAHHAHAREEEHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! GHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! STAHAHAHAHHAHAHAP STAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAPPP!!!”

And Hawks did. He stepped away from them while the feathers floated to a safer distance.

The trainees heaved and panted, their lungs burning and their throats parched, Bakugo slumped backwards, Todoroki forward as if he was collapsing in on himself.

“This is pathetic. The whole thing,” remarked Dabi.

Hawks shrugged. “I don’t enjoy needless violence. And pathetic or not, it seems to be working wonders.”

“If - no, when you fail and Shigaraki hears this is how you’ve been wasting our time…”

“I won't fail. Just look at them,” claimed Hawks, though one corner of his smile was frozen. He clapped his hands, addressing the flushed heroes again. “Now, listen close. I’m going to start tickling you again soon.”

Bakugo winced and shot a feeble glare at hawks, a pitiful attempt to disguise fear as intimidation, while Todoroki’s shoulders slumped as he prepared himself for the inevitable.

“That’s the stick. Now, here’s the carrot. I’ll stop tickling whichever of you gives me the code. The other gets these,” he announced as he began to rummage in his costume, a ruse to give both trainees time to focus on him once again and grew more apprehensive.

He then pulled out two mundane items: a fork, and Bakugo’s orange hairbrush.

“I got these while I was waiting for Dabi,” he said, moving the two items slightly, the trainees’ eyes following them with wariness. Too easy.

“The one who spills the beans doesn’t have to find out how much they tickle. The other…”

He put the two tools back inside his utility belt.

“Anyone got anything to say?”

Bakugo and Todoroki looked at each other. Todoroki looked like he’d been running for an hour, endurance having never been his strong suit, but Bakugo begin to wonder whether he would actually cave. There was something in the half-and-half hero’s stare, some kind of request maybe. He couldn’t be about to come clean, could he? Or… was he trying to encourage him to resist?

The thought made Bakugo’s blood boil even though a rivulet of sweat already drenched the back of his costume. Did Todoroki really think that he might call it quits? That he was that weak?

But Bakugo didn’t have the energy to fight, so he just averted his gaze, fixing it on the stocks on the other side of which were his all too tender feet and useless hands.

Hawks tutted. “Too bad. Hawks, would you set a 10-minute timer? We’re getting serious now.”

He didn’t give the trainees time to brace themselves before striking.

His fingers got to work on the same spots as before, though he targeted Todoroki’s right foot rather than his left, and the sixteen feathers he’d been using on each trainee struck at every vulnerable part of that same foot as two horrifying new implements joined the interrogation: Hawks’s wings.

Todoroki shrieked. The amalgamation of feathers which Hawks could animate at will was an ebullient blanket of ticklishness, the plumes coming alive to tease the entirety of Todoroki’s sole in an all-encompassing attack that effortlessly reached between his toes and the sides and even the top of his foot as well. Hundreds or thousands of feathers, exponentially more barbs, and Todoroki could feel them all.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

Hawks had threatened the trainees with the hairbrush and fork, but he knew his wing would be just as if not more devastating to the criminal No. 1’s son. He also stiffened the feathers of his left wing since Bakugo was not as sensitive to light touches, and he lacked the bandwidth to remotely control any more feathers without sacrificing accuracy…

Which is why, not even a minute in, the hawk turned 90° and swished at Todoroki’s soles with both wings, while both of his talons pounced on the balls of Bakugo’s feet.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!! YOU FUHAHAHAHAHHAHACKHEHEHHEHR THAHAHAHAT’S UNFAAFAFAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Bakugo’s unprecedented cackling was met with Todoroki falling into a choked silence. Sensory overload.

Not even that was able to shut Bakugo up, but the dedicated fingers, accompanied by the sixteen that had been hounding him for a while plus the extra sixteen that migrated over from Todoroki, melted his protests into desperate incoherence, about half the quills matching the movements of Hawks’s fingers to crowd his weakest spots as much as possible.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!!! YOOOOOOOHUHUHUHUHU!!!! SHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-- I CAAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! HAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!”

Despite what he’d told Dabi, Hawks couldn’t believe how well the two trainees were responding. He was relieved that this harmless method might actually buy him enough time. He just hoped--

Todoroki’s own laughter returned as a whine, which only served to remind Hawks to divide his attention more equally between the two of them. Though by virtue of being the only one he could see from his position, Bakugo was bound to get the shorter end of the stick. He could stand to be taken down a peg, Hawks told himself as he looked into the young hero’s bulging, tear-filled eyes, fractured babble interspersing the hysterical peals.

Those eternal ten minutes weren’t simply meant to break them, no. Hawks’s Quirk wasn’t merely about moving his feathers: he could feel through them. He noticed that Todoroki’s left foot was warmer than usual, and his right colder, which gave him an idea; and he also noticed that Bakugo’s feet were getting damper and slicker the more he tickled him, which gave him another. He’d keep them safe from Dabi even if he had to tickle them into unconsciousness to do it.

“Time’s up,” muttered Dabi, more invested than he’d ever admit.

“Is it? Eh, I’ll just keep going,” yelled Hawks to give the trainees a chance to hear him. Todoroki let out something that vaguely sounded like a sob, while Bakugo was too preoccupied with the fingers and feathers to respond.

But when he noticed Dabi getting more impatient, Hawks did finally take a step back and allowed the trainees to breathe. Their chests heaving, their hair weighed down by perspiration, the fight had been tickled out of Bakugo, while Todoroki looked like he was about to pass out from exhaustion.

“You know, I’ve gone about this all wrong,” he announced. “Dabi, I’m going to need your help.”

“Forget it.”

“I need your Quirk.” He pointed his thumb at Bakugo, who made an effort to listen and was rewarded with a shiver. “I need you to keep his feet close to the fire.”

“Finally,” huffed Dabi as he began to stride toward Bakugo, who recoiled in horror.

“You aren’t hurting him. There’s one last thing I want to try,” explained Hawks. “See, I remember that his Quirk is based around sweat, and he seems to keep getting more ticklish over time. So I just need a little bit of heat.”

“You’re joking.”

“They’re about to cave, and I’ll give you all the credit. By the way, I suspect your Quirk would also do wonders on his right side,” he added, pointing at Todoroki this time.

“Unbelievable,” scoffed Dabi. Yet, sure enough, two small blue flames appeared in his palms. Bakugo winced.

“Farther,” commanded Hawks. Dabi rolled his eyes, but complied again. 

It was warm, very warm, but not painful. Bakugo had followed a word in three, but he knew he shouldn’t be too happy about the heat displacing the phantom tickles that still tormented his soles.

“Now, where was I? Right. I’ve gone about this all wrong, because there’s two of you, and one code. I’ve been splitting my attention, but I only need to break one of you. So…”

He rested a hand on the top of Todoroki’s shoulder, the exhausted hero regarding him with… Bakugo hadn’t expected it, but there were embers of defiance left in Todoroki’s alarmed scowl.

“I’m going to focus on you, and only you, until one of you fesses up or, frankly, you pass out. Would be a first, but I kind of want to see that. And if that happens, luckily we have a spare.”

“You’re not… going to get… away with this,” panted Todoroki. Bakugo had definitely underestimated him.

Hawks gave him an empty smile. “You’d better hope I do, ‘cause if I don’t, Dabi gets to have fun with you, and he likes his meat well done.”

He clapped a hand on Todoroki’s back, who recoiled under his touch. “If you’re worried about saving face, maybe your friend will speak up for you. He looks like the empathetic kind,” jested Hawks.

Todoroki glanced at Bakugo, currently in the process of glaring at Dabi. He took a deep breath to brace himself.

Hawks walked around him, a solid half of each wing detaching itself and floating to the other side of the stocks. “Last chance,” he whispered in Todoroki’s ear.

“Drop dead,” spat Todoroki.

So Hawks struck. Not with the feathers, however. No, while Todoroki was distracted by the wings positioning themselves right in front of his feet, the tips of the feathers already grazing his soles, Hawks’s hands slipped under Todoroki’s jacket and find purchase in the skin of his sides underneath.

Bakugo saw a look of utter bewilderment cross Todoroki’s face before hysteria overwrote his features completely.

“HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! THAHAHAHHAHAT’S NOHOHOT… OH MY HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA!!! THAHAHAHAHAT’S NOHOHOOOOHOHOT FAAAAAAHAHAHHAHAAIIIRR!!!” he screamed, accidentally echoing Bakugo.

“I thought I remembered this!” said a self-satisfied Hawks. “Two for two, uh? Man, did the doctors just take the two most ticklish halves of you and glued them together?” he teased as his fingers kept kneading into Todoroki’s swimmer-like flanks, the thumb pressing deep into the soft tissue and discovering the muscle underneath that stretched all the way to his toned stomach.

“GHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHPPP!!! EHEHEHEHENOOOOOOOOOOOOOAHHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHGHHH!!!”

He squirmed in his seat with newfound vigor, though he wasn’t getting away from Hawks’s prying fingers, sometimes digging hard into his sides, sometimes gently brushing his nails up and down. He leaned so hard to the left that for a moment Bakugo worried he might dislodge his shoulder.

“Look at you trying to squirm away,” cooed Hawks. “Is it because your right side is more sensitive? I think it is. Let’s see if I can find another jackpot up here on the left side,” he continued as he began clawing at the left side of Todoroki’s stomach ,who sucked it in and remained breathless for a moment, but just a moment before laughter poured out again.

“Umh, maybe a bit better, but not a homerun… How about here?”

He spidered his fingers up and down the trainee’s ribcage, a view that despite being partially concealed by Todoroki’s jacket, which rode up to show the lower part of his stomach, caused Bakugo to instinctively lean forward to shield his own ribs with his elbows.

Todoroki’s laughter was still positively frantic as Hawks’s other hand never left his right side, but he didn’t seem satisfied. “Maybe here?” he ventured as he pushed his fingers further up, squeezing his way into Todoroki’s damp underarm.

The trainee recoiled.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHHAAHAHHAHAAHT THHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEHEHHEHEHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHRRREEEEE!!! TOOOOOOHOHOHOH!!! GHAHAHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAH!!!”

“And here it is!” gloated Hawks, Todoroki trying to clamp down his arms and only succeeding in trapping the offending fingers where he really didn’t want them.

“HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHHAAHAHHAAHHAHAHAAHA!!!”

“That’s close enough, I’d say!”

“You’ll pay for this,” hissed Bakugo, undeterred by the heat that lapped at his soles, making them more sensitive by the minute.

Without looking away from his handiwork, Hawks retorted, “You should worry about you, because I think he’s about to get smart.”

“NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!! IIIIIIIIIIII WOOOHOHOHOHN’T TEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEHEHHEHEHEHLLL!!! STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHSEEEE!!!”

“What use is begging? You know what I want. Or maybe you’re asking for more?”

“GHAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOAHAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAH PLEEEEHAHAHAHAHAHAHSE PLEEEEHAHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAASE!!!”

“I have been neglecting your feet, that’s true. I think they’re feeling lonely.”

“NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!! NOOOOOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHT THEHEHEHEHEHEHRE TOOOOOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAH!!!”

“Well, they shall cry no longer! Here I gooo!” exclaimed Hawks as his severed wings fully enveloped Todoroki’s feet.

Bakugo saw Todoroki whip his head to the sky, a lunatic grin frozen on his face, eyes bulging and dripping with tears, and gently swaying back and forth in that position without even being able to make a single sound.

Insane. He looked insane. Driven to insanity by fingers and a bunch of feathers. Bakugo couldn’t believe it. He even considered giving them the code for a fleeting moment out of concern for his… classmate. But he couldn’t, Todoroki wouldn’t have wanted him to either.

But even deeper at the back of his mind, there was a reminder, a reminder that if Todoroki passed out, or that if he confessed, then Bakugo would be next.

Dabi was also staring unabashedly. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Something that childish, tearing down Endeavor’s heir like that. His fingers itched.

Todoroki wasn’t even aware of the fingers tormenting his upper body or the feathers that had taken total hold of his feet. It was as if the sensation had seeped deep into his core, and from there had radiated outward, breaking down his sense of self and severing his mind from his body to keep it afloat in an ocean of overwhelming giddiness. Later, he wouldn’t even recall whether he’d laughed in the end or not.

He just remembered his consciousness resurfacing at one point, and uttering the six fabled digits as if in a dream.

“NO!!” screeched a costernated Bakugo.

“Thank you kindly,” said Hawks as he stepped away from Todoroki and called back his feathers. “Way to confirm the code, by the way,” he told Bakugo.

But as he was making his way toward the exit…

“Wait.”

Dabi was holding up his burner phone. “It’s not time for our meet-up yet. And I seem to recall you’re a man of his word,” he said, eyeing Bakugo.

Hawks stopped. “I am,” he conceded as he walked towards Bakugo, whose heart was sinking into his stomach for an additional reason now.

“Don’t you fucking get any closer!” warned Bakugo without anything to back up his threat, his implicit plea.

“Won’t you get bored?” Hawks asked Dabi, ignoring his cursing target.

“I’ll manage. His right side is the ice one, right?” he asked as Dabi stopped between Todoroki and Bakugo, reaching one hand on the other side of the stocks. “I want to see fire and ice mix,” he stated before making his fingers slightly warmer and jolting Todoroki out of his stupor.

But Bakugo was unable to pay him any mind, transfixed by Hawks’s single finger inching closer and closer to his left sole. It curled gently.

“FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFU--” exploded out of Bakugo, any hope of rebuilding his façade thanks to the break flying out of the window as that one finger made him acutely aware of how much more impossibly sensitive the heat had made him.

Hawks went on scratching delicately, bringing the finger to the center of the ball as Bakugo flailed left and right. He only stopped long enough to retrieve the brush and the fork. “I love being right.”

“GGGGGGGGGHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHA!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!”

No, it couldn’t tickle that much, it just couldn’t. The fork traveled from the bottom of his arch all the way to the base of his toes, then down, then up again. The hairbrush was large enough to perfectly scrub the upper half of Bakugo’s foot, the part that Hawks was naturally focusing on, the two tools gliding harmlessly on the impossibly tender surface thanks to the offshoot of Bakugo’s Quirk.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHA!!! SSSSSSSSSSSSSSTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAA!!!!! STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHHA!! STASTATSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHHAHAAHHAHA!!!”

“Nah, you had your chance,” said Hawks as he switched the two torture instruments.

Bakugo whipped his head back and forth, if he could he might have banged it on the stocks just to feel something else. And Hawks was unrelenting. Skilled, and unrelenting.

“Weren’t you going to kill me? How are you going to do that? By giggling yourself to death?”

The hard bristles and tines would have scrubbed Bakugo raw if not for his Quirk, but his nerves weren’t any less on fire for it, every ounce of pain having been traded for a different sensation that Bakugo despised even more. But he had no ego left to be bruised, as his entire self was concentrated in his superhumanly sensitive feet, tenderized by the Quirk he was so proud of.

“Now this is an explosion! Oh, you think I’m moving away from the ball? Right where it tickles the most? Oh no no no! I’ll just tickle everywhere else to!”

The part of Bakugo that realized what was about to happen clawed its way to the surface. “NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAH! NONONONONOHHHHHH!!!! PLEASESTOPPLEAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHSEE!!!”

But the myriad quills that descended on every part of his soles not ravaged by the hellish tools didn’t heed his final plea.

With one last boom of maddened laughter, Bakugo was thrust into the same pit that he’d watched Todoroki sink into, utterly, thoroughly destroyed, drooling, crying, but unable to string enough sounds together to grovel.

Humiliation, embarrassment, disappointment were fictions that had been shattered, as the tickling cut to something primal, genuine within him. Who knew that tickling his feet really hard was the key.

“GHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!! GGGGGGHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHA!!!”

At some point, Bakugo felt himself float up toward the harsh neon light overhead, gurgling nonsense as the room faded back into focus.

“...ease… nno… moohore…”

But Hawks was already on the threshold, with Dabi having already left the room. Bakugo’s head lolled to the side, allowing him to encounter Todoroki’s dim, concerned gaze.

“Thank you boys!” said Hawks cheerfully. “Someone will come pick you up soon. Pleasure doing business with you!”

He slammed the door behind him, leaving the two tickle-drunk trainees in the room alone. 

As his circumstances flooded back to the forefront, Todoroki’s concern pissed him off. “How–” his voice cracked. Water. “How could you?!” He wasn’t quite sure if he was referring to the code, or to what Hawks had put him through after.

Todoroki didn’t respond, but looked at the door. “Ssh.”

He’d… shushed him? That guy had shushed him–

Bakugo’s eyes bulged out of his sockets when he saw Todoroki lift the upper portion of the stocks and slide his sore wrists and ankles out. To safety, to freedom.

Bakugo forgot everything he wanted to yell. “How… When…?!”

“Hawks did it,” whispered Todoroki as he stretched his sore limbs. Bakugo tried to lift his own stocks, and lo and behold, they opened. There was a feather in the lock, which Todoroki grabbed.

Bakugo’s shock was plain on his expression, his smile muscles stiff.

“Didn’t you notice… what Hawks was writing… with his feathers?” asked Todoroki. He took a deep breath as he shuffled towards the door. “He’s on our side. He wants… us to escape and… tell the agency… to change the code.”

Bakugo was still incredulous as the hallway opened up before him.

“Come on,” said Todoroki as he started out of the room.

Bakugo followed him, to be sure. But he was thinking. He hadn’t noticed anything. And if Todoroki knew all along, how much of it had been an act? And if he had put up a show for their captors, so he could convincingly give up the code later… did he think that Bakugo was weak?

Bakugo grunted. Todoroki shot him a puzzled look, but didn’t stop.

He couldn’t allow the half and half bastard to think of him that way. To feel superior. He had to show him who was really the most ticklish.

[cypressvs]

HEAD EMPTY, JUST WANNA FUCK YOU PT. 1

pairing: blade/f!reader, luocha/f!reader, sampo/f!reader (separate)

cw: (all) sexual fantasies, unconventional turn-ons, they’re all pervs, established sexual relationship, (blade) biting, marking, dry humping, man handling, fingering, mean dom!blade, he calls you ‘sweetheart,’ pussy slapping, (luocha) finger sucking, hypersexualizing water?, m!receiving oral, m!masturbation, hand job, off-screen p in v sex, (sampo) public sex, size kink, clothed sex, nipple play

wc: 1.3k, 400~ each | join the taglist

minors do not interact

BLADE's expression doesn't change when you abruptly barged into his room looking absolutely disheveled and you do not think twice before voicing your complaints. You have been temporarily stationed in the Luofu and much to your luck, the synthetic summertime season was at its peak. Doing the most minimal of movements has caused sweat to bead over your heated skin, sliding down in little streaks and disappearing between the valley of your chest. Ever observant, the tiny phenomena didn't go unnoticed by your partner as he immediately zeroes in on the sight, completely ignoring your rambling in favor of indulging in his descending thoughts. You think he's unbothered—uncaring even—but if only you knew that it's all a calm front over the brewing storm that sends sparks and blood rushing to his cock. It's instinctual; the way he comes alive as his brain began conjuring images of the nights you shared buried under the sheets. It's salty on his tongue but he licks a fine strip over the crook of your neck anyway before sinking his teeth in you. You moan and he digs his dull fingernails into your hips a tad bit deeper, urging you to rut into his clothed dick again. Blinking out of his delirious reverie, Blade stands up from his side of the bed to approach you. Sweet, innocent you were too busy bending over your drawer to notice that he was already close enough to roll his hips against your ass. He's so generous with it too, letting you get a clear feel of his raging hard-on before pushing you forward by the nape and shoving his face into your moist skin. Your complaints about being dirty go unheard because sweetheart, that's how he likes you and he makes sure that you know that as he growls out all the things he'd do to you while sliding his palms over your thighs tauntingly. He pushes the flimsy fabric of your ruined panties aside before rubbing small circles over your throbbing clit. You whimper and he asks if you like it, grinning into your exposed neck as he breathes in your scent and the way your perfume becomes washed out by sweat—so alike the air he breathes in sex. It's almost enough to break his restraint but Blade just adores the tiny, pathetic whimpers that spill out of you when he goes agonizingly slow so cut him some slack if he ignores your begging to suck a bruise over your pulse or if he slaps your pussy when you start grinding into his hand for more friction. Be patient, he whispers mockingly before he nibbles on your ear, or else you won't be cumming at all tonight. And you know—you have to know that Blade never lets anything come out of his mouth if he didn't mean it at all.

LUOCHA hates himself for the lewd, debauched way his cock springs to life as you moan through a yawn. You have only just woken up and thoughts of shoving his fingers into your mouth and pressing them against your tongue and telling you to suck and— Luocha, snap out of it! He chastises himself for acting so needy first thing in the morning but he just can't help it! He offers you a glass of water and while you gulp it down, all he could see is the way it spills at the side of your lips, dripping teasingly slow and staining the dress shirt you stole from his closet. You thank him with an ignorant, little smile but his eyes can only see the moistness of your mouth. It's so eerily similar to when you lick your lips at the sight of his cock, flushed and leaking fluid at the mere sight of you on your knees ready to devour him for all that he's worth. Clearing his throat, Luocha excuses himself under the guise of wanting a morning shower. If only you knew that behind the steamy fog in your bathroom, your pretty lover was sliding his hand up and down, up and down over his throbbing dick. He goes slow, gasping with his air knocked out of him as he rubs his thumb over the slit on the head but continuing to edge himself over that lustful cliff of pleasure. Droplets of water from the showerhead slide down his skin, tracing past his strong abdominals and making his hair stick so prettily over his pale skin but it does little to bring clarity over his hazy mind and his dick. It's so vivid and whenever he closes his eyes, he sees you pumping him instead, lips parting before suctioning around the bulb and rolling your tongue around it. Slowly—the same rhythm of his hand—before you're suddenly sliding further and further down. You twist your soft palms around what you cannot take and he swears that he'd loop the unholy sound of the slick and gags that come out of your mouth forever if he could. Luocha imagines your teeth grazing his sensitive skin lightly and he comes, pearls of white coating his hand only to be swiftly down the drain washed by the shower. It's better that you don't know what went on behind the bathroom walls because what you don't know can't hurt you—or your pussy that's still recovering from his madness the night before.

SAMPO ignites, from nerve to flesh, when he hears you mumble a curse. It's heavy with emotion, a need that should be quelled before you erupt into an uncontrollable fit of anger. He feels bad for the salesman who tried to scam you; feels bad for the people who began looking your direction out of curiosity. But above all, Sampo feels bad because he can't bring himself to sincerely feel bad about the way blood rushed into his cock, throbbing with need underneath his tight pants. It's so uncomfortable but he could only watch with half-lidded eyes as you argued with the stranger. Oh, how your voice drives him crazy! It knocks all thought out of his head as he's overcome with the urge to fuck. It's such a nasty little word but the way you ennuciate it, the way your lips press and part to say it...Sampo's dick jumps at the thought. It was only what... an hour ago that he was forcing a "F-fuck... Hah... Mhmm...Feels so good—! It feels so good, Sampo!" out of you and he already wants more. He's so greedy but he knows what he wants and how to get it so Sampo wraps an innocent arm around your waist with a sly, little smile. "Don't worry," he says, "your reliable man Sampo will take all your worries away." And Sampo Koski always keeps his promises. Unbeknownst to you, Sampo just promised to fuck all your anger out of you. He'll take you to a back alley and push your panties aside to shove his hot, heavy cock inside your twitchy hole. He'll use his big, strong body to keep you against the wall, no escaping until your cute mouth can only babble naughty curses about how he's so good at melting your brain with pleasure. You'd like it a lot, won't you, especially when he tugs your bra down to tweak at your hardened nipples, coaxing sweet moans out of you when he suddenly shoves them in his mouth, coating it with his drool as he continues rutting into you like an animal in heat. You're just so cute, he thinks, as he shushes you lightly. So ignorant of his plans and so heated over such petty matters. You don't know a single thing about how easily you can make him act out like a virgin all over again but don't you worry your pretty head. Your big man Sampo Koski is about to change all that.

© 2023 CYPRESSVS. all rights reserved. do not copy, claim, repost or translate in any platforms.

[geeky-politics-46]

Kinktober 2023 - Day 6

Sex Tape with Doctor Stephen Strange

"A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words"

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Summary: You are feeling self-concious & down on your appearance, but Stephen has an unconventional idea of how to make you realize how sexy & beautiful you really are.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - body image issues, voyeurism & exhibitionism via photo & video, dirty talk, swearing, pet names, oral sex, creampie, vaginal sex, slight daddy kink, a bit of fluff & a little angst.

You weren't even sure what had triggered your self-image issues at the moment. Honest to God, you were just sitting in bed watching a YouTube video, pursuing the sidebar recommended videos when you started comparing yourself to other people.

It didn't matter if it was just a random ad or a promo for a TV show. You started sizing yourself up to all the actresses, models, and even some normal people. No matter who it was, you felt you couldn't compare.

Your stomach was too big. Your butt was too small. You were too short. Too plain looking. Hell, sometimes you weren't even sure how you compared to average. You didn't think you were hideous, but you forever felt like the ugly duckling. Like the potential to be beautiful was there. It just never blossomed. Or, like you sabotaged being pretty by not having enough restraint to eat better or lose weight. 

For once in your life, you wanted to be the bombshell. You were too weird to be the girl next door. You always fell into the quirky/cute and funny category. People fell for you once they got to know your personality, but you knew that never once had you stopped a guy dead in his tracks across the room. 

In an effort to make yourself feel smaller, you dug around for your massive old sweatshirt. The one you wore whenever you were feeling sad. The material had piled up in places, and it was starting to get holes in others, but the super stretchy material still felt just as big and cozy as if it was brand new. The dark eggplant purple color was also somehow soothing compared to the mostly blacks and grays of your daily wardrobe.

You had settled back in, deep in your own thoughts, when your partner entered the bedroom. You had been with Doctor Stephen Strange for a while now. Long enough that you had more or less informally moved into the Sanctum. You got to spend more time with Stephen and didn't have to pay rent. It was a win-win. The only downside was that you couldn't hide from him when your inner demons reared up. 

You didn't even realize he had been talking to you as he changed out of his sorcerer's robes and into his sweats for bed. It wasn't until he sat down in front of you and lifted your chin up to look directly at him that you realized you weren't paying any attention to a thing he was saying. 

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

You hated the genuine concern on his face. He spent his days literally saving the universe, and here you were trapped inside your own spiraling thoughts. 

"Nothing is wrong."

You said it while staring down at your hands. You were never good at hiding things from Stephen when you were face to face.

"Even if I wasn't a brilliant doctor, MD, and PhD, I know that's your 'I'm sad' sweatshirt. So something is definitely wrong." 

You closed your eyes and shook your head, trying to jiggle loose the thoughts that were waying you down. Not wanting to waste Stephen's time with your shallow worries. Yeah, he was your boyfriend, but he had plenty more vastly important things to do than talk you off a self-image cliff.

"It's stupid, Stephen."

"Don't care. You've listened to me say stupid stuff plenty of times. This just makes us one closer to even."

You rolled your eyes at him, and you knew he wasn't about to give up. Stephen was the most stubborn person you had ever met. In fact, his stubbornness was part of why he pursued you for so long before you finally agreed to go out with him. If he was set on finding out what was bothering you, nothing would stop him until you told him.

So after another moment of trying to get him off the topic, you finally relented and told him what had you feeling down. Shrinking down farther into your sweatshirt as you spoke, fumbling for the right words. Letting the cozy fabric serve as its own kind of armor.

"I don't even know what got me thinking it, but I'm just feeling down on myself. That there just isn't anything about me physically that is special. I don't think I'm ugly, I just don't get why you bothered to even give me a second glance. Let alone what keeps you interested. You are the great Doctor Strange. You are so hot, Stephen, and I'm just me. I'm just plain. I'm chubby with stretch marks. You are gorgeous. You could literally be with the most beautiful women in the world."

You could see him almost flinch when you called yourself plain and that you doubted how enamored he was with you. Even if he knew it was only a passing thought, he never wanted you to question his love for you. Ever.

When it took a few moments for him to say anything in response, you immediately started to take it all back. Not wanting to drag him down into your funk with you.

"See, I shouldn't have said anything, I'm just having a bad night and -" 

Stephen cut you off with a passionate kiss. The kind of kiss that could make you forget your own name. Cupping your face in both of his hands before pulling away from your lips to place several more small kisses on your forehead and in your hairline. Gradually adjusting so he could pull you closer and wrap his arms tighter around you.

"First of all, I love you so much you don't even know. So don't think for one second I would rather be with anyone else. Second of all, I know that you don't necessarily see what I see when you look in the mirror, and you don't even have to believe me, but you are gorgeous. Do you not see that half the other guys practically trail you around like puppies? Rogers turns bright red when you smile at him, and it's a wonder Barnes and Wilson haven't followed you home like strays yet."

That made you laugh. You did know Steve had harbored a crush on you before you started dating Stephen. Tony had let that spill one night after a party. Both Sam and Bucky were such flirts all the time with everyone. Of course, they always acted sweet on you. You assumed it was just them or their way of being nice. You would have to pay better attention next time you saw them, though. Just to see. 

"If one of them does follow me home, can I keep him?" 

You squinted your eyes and pouted your lips at Stephen. You loved giving him a hard time, and he loved giving you one right back.

"Absolutely not. Even if they scratch and howl at the door all night long. I'm the only one who gets to keep strays, and that only applies to America. On a good day, maybe Parker."

You giggled and shook your head in agreement. America was definitely a great addition to your little family. It did lift your spirits a little thinking about all of that, but it still didn't leave you feeling better about yourself. 

Stephen could see the way you were picking at the skin on your hands. Like you were trying to pick away the self-consciousness or what you felt were imperfections. It was a habit he noticed you fell into when you were extra hard on yourself. So, in an effort to distract you and stop you from picking at your skin, he took one of your hands in both of his.

"Do you remember the day you held my hand the first time? Do you have any idea how terrified I was? I was terrified that you were suddenly going to realize how broken and ugly my hands are. How damaged I am, and realize just how below your own league you were dating. Still are, by the way, so maybe I shouldn't say anything. You are the sexiest most beautiful woman I have ever met, inside and out. Every inch of you is incredible and perfect to me. I thought that before you even said a word to me, and getting to know you, and falling in love with you has only made me more sure. There is no one in this universe I could ever find sexier or more special."

"Tell you what, I have an idea..." 

Stephen stood up from the bed, moving over to shut the bedroom door. Throwing the lock, too. Now that you had a teenager running about the Sanctum, it was better safe than sorry. Then, he pulled his phone from his pocket. Setting it on airplane mode as he walked back over to you.

"How about I show you what I see? Give you some actual physical proof of how beautiful you are? A picture is worth a thousand words. I imagine some more revealing, naughty photos would be worth even more."

You chuffed at him and raised a questioning brow at his suggestion. 

"Stephen, are you seriously suggesting that I let you take naked photos of me as a way of making me feel better about myself? Are you sure that isn't just gonna make you feel better?" 

His signature cheeky grin was plastered on his face, and his bright blue eyes were twinkling with mischief.

"Can't it do both? Besides, you know I've asked before for something I can enjoy when I can't have you with me, and I think you look perfect right now. Already in our bed. Already cozy and dressed for bed. Few layers to take off. This is the you I want to see when I'm not here with you."

He came over to where you were still sitting on the bed. An extra swagger in his step and a grin because of the blush you were now sporting. He started to pull teasingly at the hem of your sweatshirt with the hand he didn't have his phone in.

"Come on, take this off. I want you to see how sexy you are. I promise I will let you delete them if you want, although I certainly wouldn't mind keeping a couple for myself, but I want you to see how you look when it's just you and me. Right here, in this bed. The version of you that only I get to see, at least I do hope it's only me. A woman who puts all those supermodels and Playmates to shame. Even first thing in the morning. A goddess if one ever existed, even with bedhead and morning breath." 

Layer by layer, you let Stephen slowly strip off your clothes and arrange you on the bed. His fingers and lips adoring every new inch of skin that he exposed before proceeding to take picture after picture. Lovingly caressing every spot you deemed less than perfect. Letting him talk you through pose after pose. Some were simple and basic, normal poses. Some a bit more sultry with little left to imagine. The less clothing remained, the more bold he got with your poses. 

As your impromptu photoshoot went on, he also tried to distract you from feeling self-conscious about your body coming into view. Sometimes, by making you laugh. Sometimes, by getting a goofy look on his face as he just kind of stared at you. Almost awestruck. 

"You really have no idea how much I fantasize about you, do you? How much of my day I spend trying not to think about you? How when we first started dating, I felt like a teenager trying to control his raging hormones because all I could think of was this. What it would be like if I got the privilege to get this beautiful, incredible woman naked in my bed. That I swore if I got you here, I would never let you leave. I hate that someone ever made you feel like you are anything less than gorgeous, whether in your ratty sad sweatshirt or all dressed up. Although, this, no clothes at all, is definitely my personal favorite."

You tried not to tear up at his genuine sweetness. You could feel your cheeks blushing at his statement, too. You buried your face into the pillow you were holding before softly turning and peeking out at him from the side. Only to find him waiting for the moment you locked eyes with him to take a photo. 

In a sudden burst of confidence, you bit your bottom lip and rolled onto your back. Letting the entirety of your body be on display. Laying back and resting your head on the pillow and stretching your arms up overhead, your legs spreading on their own. You closed your eyes and arched your back as you inhaled deeply. Like you were a cat basking in the warmth of the sun. 

Your mind was completely clear of all thought until you heard a stuttered breath from your lover. It was a sound you had never heard Stephen make before. It sounded like he was looking at a priceless piece of art or one of the seven wonders. He sounded like he was in awe. Like he was in awe at the sight of your body and your beauty.

You were about to dismiss his, what you were sure had to be, over embellished praise, but then you opened your eyes. You were rendered speechless by the look of utter wonder on his face as he let his cerulean blue eyes wash over every inch of you. For possibly the first time, you saw him really seeing you, and it melted any remaining self-doubt you had in that moment.

You immediately reached out to pull Stephen to you. Wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him sweetly. Rubbing your nose against his and whispering loving thanks against his lips.

"Thank you, Stephen. I love you, and even though I don't necessarily see what you see, you always make me feel beautiful. Why don't we take a few pictures together, or maybe a video or two? Maybe I want something for when you aren't here too." 

Stephen's eyes darkened at the suggestion. You had your suspicion that Stephen had a bit of an exhibition kink. You had sent each other pics before, a short video clip or two, and sexted all the time. You knew the idea of filming the two of you fucking would intrigue him. A wicked smile found it's way to his face. 

"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea how many times I've thought of you asking that or that I've thought of asking. Are you really okay with filming us fucking? Of course it's just for the two of us. Sorcerer's honor. " 

Stephen started trying to fiddle with the phone, trying to figure out the best way to set it up to film the two of you. Finding it hard to concentrate after you started leaving kisses on his neck. Stopping to bite and suck at the spot just below his earlobe before continuing to whisper his darkest desires in his ear.

"Well, Stephen, actually the idea does get me a little hot. Maybe if the video turns out really good, a few seconds or minutes can get leaked to a naughty site or two. Anonymously, of course. I don't want to share you with any other woman, but I wouldn't mind showing off all the ways I worship you. Let everyone see how lucky I am. Maybe get some outside opinions of how we look together." 

Stephen's eyes practically rolled back in his head at the thought. He never would suggest it himself, but he kind of loved the sound of that. Of the world getting to see how good the two of you looked together. Of seeing how well you both fit together. How your bodies were made for each other.

He scrambled off the bed using the pile of books on the dresser to create a tripod to set up the phone. Hitting record and making sure the bed was centered in the frame before coming back to join you in the sheets again. He used his magic to strip himself of his clothes. If you two were going to make a sex tape, he was gonna put some extra showmanship in it.

You couldn't help but giggle as you reach your arms out towards him. Stepben didn't waste a minute before he started crawling up your body. Teasing and nipping at your bare skin and making sure to snuggle and rub his goatee against you. Your hands immediately grabbed in his dark brown hair, loving how soft and full it felt in your fingers. 

As your lips connected, you both groaned in pleasure. Your bodies grinding and rubbing. Letting your hands roam all over Stephen's body now that you had plenty of him to touch. You could feel Stephen's cock already erect between you. Truth be told, taking those photos of you had essentially acted as foreplay for him. He was ready to go by the time he was setting up the camera. 

You moaned when you felt his hard shaft slide against the crease of your hip, so close to your sex that was starting to ache for him. Your legs reflexively spread even more on the large bed, and your nails scraped down Stephen's sides. 

"Is there something you want, baby? Tell Daddy what you need."

A sly smile on his face as he spoke. Loud enough to make sure the camera heard. Descending back on you and starting to kiss your neck. Sucking a patch or skin into his mouth hard enough to ensure you would bear a mark the next day.

Your brain finally coming back into focus when he playfully bit the same sensitive spot. His bright blue eyes met yours, and he gave you a cheeky wink. 

"Come on, pretty baby. Don't get all shy on me now. Not after you let me take all those naughty pictures of you. Plus, this part was your idea, after all. So you better speak up."

A soft groan pulled from your throat as you arched your back and ran your hands up his strong arms. Letting your fingernails scrape along his shoulders. Leaving little red scratches marking him as yours. 

"Want you, Stephen. Want you to fuck me. Pretty please, Stephen. Fuck me like only you can, baby."

He rewarded you with a deep kiss, letting his teeth nip at your bottom lip before he started working his way down your neck. Stopping to whisper a "that's my good girl" in your ear before continuing down to your collarbones. Raising his voice once again so it would be audible on the video when he started speaking again.

"You know you are the only one I want to fuck right? This is the only body that gets me this fucking hard. Your's is the only pretty little pussy I dream about filling up every chance I get. Want you full of my cum all the time. Want everyone to know you're mine." 

You felt over the moon as Stephen started to kiss his way down your body. Stopping and spending a little bit of extra attention every time he hit a spot that elicited a gasp or moan. Making you arch your back to give him access to every inch of bare skin you could.

He momentarily popped back up to kiss your lips. Suddenly taking your hand in his and lowering it so you were cupping his hard length. Letting his hips rut forward as you started to eagerly massage his hard cock. Already moving to sit up, anticipating taking him in your mouth, only for him to push you back down on the bed.

"Nope, I'm not done with you, baby, lay back. Just wanted you to feel how hard you got me. Feel how much taking those naughty photos of you turned me on? And they are all mine to enjoy, just like my cock is all yours to enjoy."

With that, he promptly began working his way back down your body. Coming to rest between your thighs, pulling your legs up over his shoulders. Leaving small nips on the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh and rubbing his facial hair against your skin to tease you.

A soft "Stephen, please!" escaped from your lips as you impatiently waited for his lips and tongue to work their magic on you. Feeling your hips thrust on their own when you felt him blow against your wet cunt. Making your sex flutter and clench. One of his favorite sights. 

"Make sure you don't hold back any of those pretty noises darling, want to make sure everyone can hear. Look at the camera as I eat you out, baby." 

You followed his instructions and let your head turn to the side. Keeping your eyes open as you stared into the lens. Trying to fight the inkling of self-consciousness tugging at the back of your mind. 

Those thoughts vanished completely the moment you felt Stephen's warm tongue make its first pass through your folds. All you could focus on was the feeling of his mouth on you. The scratch of his goatee against your most sensitive spots. He was taking his time. Lavishing your cunt with long licks and sucking kisses.

Stephen was a perfectionist, and that translated into every aspect of his life. Including sex. His photographic memory helping to make sure he knew exactly what way to lick and suck at your pussy to bring you to climax in record time. Only using his fingers on occasion. He could get you there with his mouth alone. Tonight was clearly going to be one of those nights.

Your back arched as he suckled on your clit. Keeping your gaze locked on the camera lens. Making sure to give Stephen the sights and sounds he wanted for your video. A long moan falling when you felt his tongue thrusting in and out of you. Hitching your legs up higher and farther apart so he could go deeper while letting your hips start to rut against his face.

As soon as he could feel you getting close to orgasm, Stephen pulled away and pounced on you once again. Wasting no time before he started to slowly thrust his hard cock into you. His lips biting at your neck.

He growled when you whimpered at the feeling of his cock bottoming out inside you. Holding perfectly still and letting you start to squirm beneath him. Wanting you to beg him to move. 

"Tell me what you want. Want you to say it again. Say it to the camera, sweetheart. Tell them why you're whimpering."

Your face now contorted into a pout as you tried so hard to get any sort of friction. Stephen's hips pushed flush to yours, holding you firmly in place.

"Want you to fuck me, Stephen. Need you to fuck me hard. Make me feel good, daddy. Please make me cum. Please."

He smiled and kissed you deeply. Bringing his hands to cup your face and giving you another moment of sweet intimacy before he gave you what you wanted. Pulling away and pulling your legs up over his shoulders. Scooting you just a little so the camera would be able to see his cock stretching and filling you. Once he had you right where he wanted you he began thrusting. 

"You asked for it, sweetheart. You turn me on so fucking much. This is just gonna be the first time I make you cum tonight. I'm not gonna stop until you feel like a goddess. My goddess." 

You reached up to intertwine you fingers with his as he started fucking you harder. Leaning forward so your ass was slightly lifted up off of the bed and his tip was pummeling that sweet spongy spot on your front wall. Making you clench around him each time he hit it. Your voice coming out in little squeaks and the sound of skin slapping punctuating Stephen's movements. 

You could already feel your orgasm building when Stephen moved to bring one hand down to begin rubbing at your clit. Pulling his cock out long enough to smear some of your wetness on the swollen bundle of nerves. Your cunt immediately clenching around him as he started tracing small circles there with his thumb. 

"That's it, my love. Can feel you getting close. You better cum soon because I'm not gonna be able to hold on much longer. Wanna fill you up every day. Mark you as mine. Inside and out. Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum."

Stephen's own dirty talk getting the best of him. His head dropping down to watch his cock slamming in and out of your drenched cunt. Your pussy gripping tight around him sending him over the edge. His thrusts getting faster and his fingers on your clit mirroring his hips.

He let out a deep groan as he started cumming inside you. The feeling of his warm thick cum filling you triggering your own orgasm. Your cunt drenching his cock and his cum filling you completely. Your moans mingling in harmony with Stephen's. Your hands that were still clasped gripping each other tighter. 

Stephen's body falling onto yours and your lips meeting for slow, sweet kisses as your highs continued to ebb and flow. The sensations slowly fading as you came back down together. The feeling of Stephen's weight on top of you lulling you closer to sleep. All worries and neuroses disappearing and receding back into the depths of your mind. 

You were with Stephen, and Stephen loved you exactly as you were. He only had eyes for you, and he would love you no matter what. Even on days when you couldn't see your beauty, you knew he would help you to see it. Even when you didn't love yourself, he would give you enough love for both of you.

Eventually, Stephen rolled to the side and pulled you with him. Settling you under the covers and holding you close. Pressing kisses all over your face as you floated in the twilight space between waking and sleep. Not moving or pulling away until your breath settled into a steady rhythm that told him you were close to sleep.

Then Stephen stood up and went over to the phone. Stopping the recording and bringing the phone back over to the bed. Setting it down on his nightstand and purposely not setting his usual morning alarm. He wanted to sleep in with you tomorrow. He would deal with Wong later.

You were too exhausted to review the products of your photoshoot right now, but the next time you were feeling down or self-conscious, Stephen would be ready to show you just how beautiful you really were. If you still didn't believe him, maybe he would bring up the idea of an outside opinion like you suggested. You would have the world drooling over you, and he would get to gloat that you were all his.

--------------------------------

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Stephen Strange Taglist: @starkiller-queen @glitterylokislut @verycollectivecreator @chatampr @maskmare931 @lovecleastrange @wheredafandomat @mkixx @evelynrosestuff @katefullerrr @littlepinknightmare @foofarny @stygianoir @moonroyalt @saturnsbabe69 @blaxdet @blackrose-92 @ironstrange1991 @ghxul-x @nancy-thompsons @wolfatheartandsoul @dangerouslittlefairy @n0obmaster-69 @oliveoilthoughts @onebatch--twobatch @yourmajesty13 @blondekel77 @lil-sweater-slut @gwephen @taramaria @sinceimetyou @slashersrus @coeurgrenaty @cc13723things @just--a-magpie @supervengerslock @strangelockd @dont-feel-so-good-peter @kingsmanperfecthartwin @ghost-lantern @inlovewithloki16 @thefalconandthewinterwidowshield @itssmaugtheterrible @katherinemaximoff @veryfancydoilies @cute-angi @mochacake2016 @prix19 @alexfanficnook @anotheroddfish @namor-is-the-way @xourownsidee @baes-x @dreamingsmile @negar77rd @imaginesfreetotake @ppatricia34me @rougepetale @tis-vereon @divinearchangel @sherlux @hiddlechive @ginnykate @thatesqcrush @friendofplenti @yuugenmomo @holdmyowos @the-royal-petals @lokislov3 @captaincarmel164 @lucimorningst4r @mydearalmira @petalcranberry @singhfae @emotionsareforuglypeople @trappedinlimbo15 @veryladyqueen @icytrickster17 @kentucky-criedfricken @briefhandsstudenttoad @calamityismyspecialty @sinisterstrange616 @patbrdac @trojanaurora @azu21 @massivehahaao3tree @strangesgirls @tobios-shawty @evelyn-kingsley @rmoonstoner

[cenorii]

Headcanons about Oldsker

I drew him quite a lot, so I managed to form an opinion about him. Yes, officially Oldsker exists only in our heads, but that doesn't stop us from coming up with something about him. Who is he? Read here.

— Of course, my main hedcanon is his appearance:

— I think Oldsker is the perfect version of Wesker, the final stage of his personal evolution. It's not only the result of his personal growth, but also the result of Capcom's labors to make a complete and final version of the character that will include all the notes and previous games, creating a coherent image out of all the vast information there is about him.

— Having limited himself all his life, Wesker was able to go all out after the volcano. Now that he wasn't bound by the confines of Spencer's upbringing, nor held back by the fulfillment of his dreams, he felt free. Now he was like a child who had been told by his parents to "do whatever you want." Wesker, who had never used foul language before, might start doing it. Wesker, who previously didn't drink and despised bad habits, might try them. Long hair and a different clothing style? He's just getting started. He's free and will probe that feeling in absolutely everything. Acting like a silly joker on the street? Easy. Create the image of the urban lunatic around him as a disguise? Oh yes, he likes that. He's free and his name no longer constrains him, because he'll change it too.

— I think Wesker got tired of having the same hairstyle for 50 years, styling his hair every morning, and so on. And he's already 61. Feeling completely free, like a teenager craving self-expression, he will grow his hair out and not care about styling at all. The only thing he will do with his hair is wash it. He doesn't even need a blow dryer anymore, just a towel, because now he loves himself any way he can. And he no longer needs to be "perfect" to like himself.

— He hasn't gotten rid of the habit of wearing sunglasses, but he really needs it to fit in with society. His eyes still tend to glow with emotion, and basically have an unconventional look. It's unlikely that colored contact lenses can override something so unusual.

— He doesn't forget about Chris. For Chris, Wesker's "death" means a lot, thanks to this event Chris realized that his fight was worth the lives saved. But for Wesker, this event is also very important. He has revised absolutely his entire life, changing the way he approaches it.

— Chris is his obsession. Wesker admires him, hates him, loves him, despises him, loves him, and so it is every day… every day is his struggle with feelings he is not familiar with, but tries to understand. Wesker has become free of any restraints, but the walls that were erected around his feelings still stand. And that's why he's such a noob in feelings, he doesn't know what he's feeling or how to describe it. That's why his relationship with Chris is so confused… He created Chris clones for some new purpose, but the purpose is just an excuse for his real attitude towards Chris.

— He continues to pursue his hobby and creates various weapons and names them after himself, paying homage to his "past life". Thanks to "Albert Wesker" he realized what he wanted out of life, and because of him he became the man he is today.

— I like the name Michael Baxter from this theory. I think that even though it's a weird nickname, it would be a great fit for Oldsker instead of his past name that was given to him by Umbrella and Spencer. He'd obviously want to stop being associated with "Wesker" because it's a dirty and disgusting project. But would he want to stop being Albert? Perhaps the name is too catchy and would expose his whole new image. So he would want to change his name completely, renouncing his past self.

— Oldsker hasn't changed, he's just become liberated and free. Perhaps there are scars on his body that have not been healed by regeneration, due to his powers becoming weaker.

— He probably knows Karl Heisenberg. It's unlikely to be any kind of close acquaintance, but they could very well turn out to be conversation partners by correspondence. Karl could be telling Oldsker about Miranda's plans, and Oldsker could be chattering unrestrainedly about Chris and his plans for him.

— Perhaps freedom would turn his head a little and he'd look for himself in completely unexpected directions. How about…writing a novel? Can this Wesker write NSFW about him and Chris? 😳

[coochellati]

Bruno Bucciarati: The Perfect Dominant

Have you ever imagined what it would be like to get dommed by Bruno Bucciarati?

Whether you’ve thought about it or not, take a moment to picture it.

Bruno is:

Confident.

Authoritative.

Assertive.

Empathetic.

…Isn’t it perfect?

It makes sense a leader like Bruno would naturally gravitate toward a more dominant role. Not to mention, his career has given him plenty of practice.

But it gets better. Bruno isn’t just someone who can play the part—he’s uniquely equipped with talents that make him second to none at bedroom dominance.

Keep reading for an in-depth analysis (with headcanons!) on why our beloved Zipper Daddy would be the dom of your dreams!

(If it wasn’t clear already—this is definitely 18+)

Bruno: The Sadistic Side

Before diving in, let’s clarify: not every dom is a sadist. However, I headcanon Bruno as one.

Even though this was (very much) not intended, Hirohiko Araki has made it clear that Bruno is quite capable of donning the mindset needed for this role.

Well, not only is Bruno “quite capable”—he’s a goddamn professional.

When interrogating Giorno, Bruno effortlessly adopts the role of a cold, ruthless interrogator. There’s a calculated cruelty in his actions as if he’s playing a game rather than conducting torture.

This isn’t surprising. Intimidation is part of his job, and years of experience have made Bruno exceptionally skilled at it.

In the bedroom, that sadistic edge translates to Bruno reveling in his partner’s reactions. He thrives on his partner’s surrender, growing more intoxicated as his dominance intensifies. (He may even make his partner call him by his last name as a way to “respect” his authority.) Bruno’s self-restraint would quickly slip away, no doubt this making lasting a challenging task for him.

The Human Lie Detector

Bruno Bucciarati is no ordinary dom. His unique skill set makes him exceptional— nobody possesses a toolkit quite like his.

No, I don’t mean “toolkit” like that—(heh.)

I’m talking about the range of enthralling tricks he has up his sleeve!

The self-proclaimed human lie detector can discern a liar using multiple methods, one such being his keen ability to read body language.

It’s clear he’s fluent in non-verbal communication—In the interrogation scene with Giorno, Bruno knew Giorno was lying before resorting to more… unconventional methods. After all, would he have placed Luca’s eye into an innocent person’s hand? (Which of course happened before Bruno licked him.)

And speaking of unconventional methods—yes, we have to talk about the sweat thing. ;)

Bruno’s ability to detect lies by taste is, let’s say, niche. The fact that he so casually licked Giorno implies it’s not his first time using this technique.

Maybe I’m a freak, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say that the thought of Bruno dragging his tongue against my skin by really fucking hot. (I know I’m not the only person who feels this way—after all, you chose to read this…) Hoo boy—especially when you remember that your face isn’t the only body part that sweats.

(And according to MatPat, your face isn’t even the best part of your body to sample stress sweat from—It’s, uh… in other places. 😉)

Endowed with a sharp mind, Bruno has no trouble finding kinky uses for his lie detection, and because he’s skilled at torture, he knows just how to discipline a filthy liar. ;)

Here’s an excerpt from a drabble I wrote imagining how this scenario might go down:

He chuckles softly again and fixes his gaze on you, akin to that of a hungry predator. "Perfect," he purrs. "And of course, there'll be consequences if you're anything less than entirely truthful."

You feel your cheeks growing warm. "What kind of consequences?"

"I haven't decided yet," he wickedly smiles, the dancing spark in his eyes having ignited into a blazing flame. "It'll depend on the severity of your lie." 

A surge of adrenaline floods your veins, quickening your heartbeat. The bed shifts slightly as Bruno leans in dizzyingly close, stopping when his face is but an inch from yours.

"How does that make you feel?" he teases, his voice lowering to a seductive murmur. His warm breath kisses your skin. "Does this excite you?"

(read the full drabble here)

Kinky Fingers: The Ultimate Dom Tool

No discussion of Bruno’s dom potential is complete without addressing the elephant in the room:

That’s right! It’s his stand, 「Sticky Fingers.」

…Are you aware of how fucking much you can do with this stand ability? (Or how much fucking you can do!! ahahaha!!!… I’ll see myself out…)

No, really—I cannot emphasize enough how large the bedroom the potential is on this one. His stand opens up an entirely new realm of possibilities.

As you know, Sticky Fingers creates zippers on any surface it touches, allowing Bruno to attach, detach, and reconfigure objects (and people). We’ve already seen him use it to “restrain” Mario Zucchero by unzipping his head from his body.

Now think about how this ability translates to bondage.

Who needs ropes or cuffs when you can create custom restraints with zippers? Whether it’s immobilizing you to a surface, hogtying you with a flick of his wrist, or inventing entirely new ways to keep you at his mercy—Bruno’s creativity is unmatched.

And it doesn’t stop there. Sticky Fingers—I mean, Kinky Fingers—opens the door to a genre of kink that only Bruno could offer: zipper play.

With absolute control over his stand, Bruno could tease, restrain, or overwhelm his partner in ways that are impossible for anyone else. Once those zippers appear, no one else can remove them—your submission would be entirely his.

And now, I am proud to present a list of many kinky uses for Sticky Fingers:

Wouldn’t it be crazy to have your head zipped off only for your mouth to be used as a fleshlight? (Can you even begin to imagine that?)

My personal favorite use would have to be how he can disassemble your entire body… and then do whatever the fuck he wants. ;)

Again, maybe I’m a freak—but it sounds hot!

(I’ve also written an entire one shot about this, so if you’re interested in it, here’s the link! It’s kind of long and jam-packed with lots of Kinky Fingers action.)

Empathy and Non-Verbal Communication

Bruno Bucciarati isn’t just a skilled dom—what truly sets him apart is his empathy and attentiveness to his partner.

Being a good dom isn’t just about playing the role or mastering techniques; it’s about understanding and prioritizing your partner’s needs.

A great dom has the emotional awareness to recognize what their partner wants and ensures the experience is enjoyable for both parties—because if it’s not fun for both, it’s not fun at all.

Empathy is central to Bruno’s character. It’s his greatest strength and, at times, his greatest vulnerability. Without it, he simply wouldn’t be Bruno.

This deep empathy is perfectly complemented by his ability to read non-verbal communication—another crucial skill for a dom. You can’t create a fulfilling experience without understanding what your partner feels, even when they don’t say it aloud.

As discussed earlier, Bruno’s “human lie detector” instincts rely on sharp observation, especially his talent for reading body language.

Imagine how this skill would translate to the bedroom. Bruno would pick up on every subtle cue—every shift, hesitation, or unspoken need. Whether it’s meeting his partner’s desire or teasing out their secrets, this man would masterfully ensure the experience is as intense as it is unforgettable.

As you know, Bruno Bucciarati isn’t just any dom. His empathy, authority, and one-of-a-kind abilities make him an unmatched partner in both leadership and intimacy. Whether it’s through his sharp intuition or the limitless potential of Sticky Fingers, Bruno’s dominance would leave you both exhilarated and utterly spent.

Zipper Daddy supremacy.

Thank you for reading. I hope that my sermon has enlightened you. 💕

P.S. Thank you to @moody-bloos for suggesting this! I know this wasn’t probably what you had in mind, but since I am so incredibly passionate about this topic I wanted to go above and beyond…

The only thing I like more than sub Bruno is dom Bruno.