Vaginal sex, no gendered terms other than named body parts
18+ below the cut, AO3 link here
Another night, another shift. For the past few nights you've been doing your job cleaning and watching cameras instead of being thoroughly entertained by Jestyn. He'd claimed he needed to "prepare a spectacle for you, my ruler" so during your free time you've been attempting to connect with other puppets. Knighter and Wizzy showed little to no engagement to you, so you tried Prieston. He'd always spoken to you at least, and you wouldn't say no to being flirted with.
Your hand touched the doorknob out of the security room when you heard Jestyn's signature jingle behind you. You startled and turned to face the Jester; he was in a different outfit from usual. No longer did he look so… enticing. Oh no, he appeared before you in nothing more than farmer's clothing, rugged and nowhere-near his size. It had been clearly ripped and stretched to fit his form, exposing large amounts of his.. skin? Wood? You still didn't quite know what he was.
"Jestyn..? Why the change of attire?" The doll grinned and leaned over to meet your wandering eyes.
Jestyn tilted his head and began to talk, his voice at a far more steady level than usual. "Why, I'm glad you asked. For I won't be your main show today. No my ruler, I'll be your audience. I do hope you enjoy Prieston's company as much as you enjoy mine."
You frowned and opened your mouth to respond as Jestyn snapped his fingers, and suddenly you were on stage yet again. You saw Jestyn in the audience, surprisingly hard to spot with his innocuous attire. Then you heard a small cough behind you, making you whizz around.
In front of you was… a feast, to put it lightly. Instead of the usual throne, there was an actual, intricate, marble priest altar. Behind it was Prieston of course, and he also had a change of costume. He now wore pure, white, suit pants and a button up - both adorned with intricate silver stitches and crosses. Over those, Prieston featured a long, white robe that was decorated with the same silver stitches, now forming a cloak of damask patterning over the holy piece. The clothing was tailored for Prieston and did not seem worn at all.
Atop the altar was an assortment of items and toys; a leash and collar, some wipes, belts and whips to one side, floggers and paddles to the other. Topped off with some unlit candles and a bible closer to the edge.
One of Prieston's white-gloved hands were tapping on the closed bible rhythmically, as though he were politely waiting for you to finish gawking at him and part of his collection. Once your eyes met his, he grinned, and paused his rapping to open the bible, and read aloud a verse
"Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." He paused, looking back up into your eyes. "And yet… you are not my wife. But I still love you, cherish you, adore you. I do wish to hold you in my arms whilst you cry. I wish to cater to your every wish, and to be catered to. I wish.." Prieston's eyes appeared to darken as he cleared his throat. "I wish to hurt you, to own you, and to heal you again." You trembled ever so slightly as he extended an arm to you, lightly grabbing your own to hold it as he spoke again. Your mouth felt dry, your heart heavy, and your mind beginning to crack. This could not be real.
Yet, it was.
"Will you allow me this pleasure, my child? Do you crave me as i crave you? Do you wish to aid me put on a show for our audience?" His breath was hot on your neck between his words, his body towering yours.
You were stunned. You'd not expected a Priest to be so forward, but here you were. You swallowed nothing and exhaled, shifting your head to meet his eyes again. "Yes, I do..."
He chuckled, pulling away from you to stand at his full height again. "Yes what?"
"Yes… father." Your words faltered, giving up your attempt at a confident masque. Your cheeks were burning, and all your clothes suddenly felt far too tight and your throat was closed like confessionals.
Prieston dismissively placed the bible off to the side of the altar as he circled about you, then came to a halt in front of you. He lifted his rosary from around his neck to place the cross and wooden beads into your hand, then closed your fingers around it to give the back of your hand a delicate kiss. His lips caressed your hands, slowly trailing up your arm and to your neck, softly kissing, biting, and suckling until he found jussst the right spot that made you react the most. His hands were tracing your stomach and your chest, ever so slightly steering you to sit on the altar for him.
Once you were sat you let your own hands feel the delicate clothing he wore. Your hands hovered above his holy cloak, silently asking permission. He hummed and nodded as he shifted to another part of your neck, biting and sucking hard enough to mark you. You pushed his cloak off him with the limited amount of movement that you had and went to undo a button; but he grabbed your hand and pulled away, almost growling as your misbehaviour. "Tut tut tut, my naughty child. You need to be taught to appreciate what you're given."
You whined at his departure, only to earn yourself a mocking laugh from the audience. Your eyes tried to find Jestyn, but you were soon tugged by the collar of your clothing. "No. Eyes away from the audience. You're only allowed to look at me. To feel my touch." Prieston was still growling into your ear as he pulled you to stand. "Bend over."
"Yes fa-" Prieston turned and pushed you over the altar. Too slow. You landed with a thud, nearly knocking the bible off the table. You felt as your clothing was yanked down, then your underwear. He chuckled at the revelation, refusing to touch you just yet. So you waited. And waited. And waited.
It felt like hours since he'd last touched you and you couldn't hear him anymore so you attempted to turn your head, only to be struck by a paddle. You squeaked and looked back down, shaking slightly from the shock and the mild sting on your bottom. Words poured from your mouth in a poor attempt to rectify the situation and your dignity, "I'm sorry! I didn't know if-"
Smack! And another squeak from you. He grunted, almost spitting his words at you. "You're sorry… what?"
"I'm sorry father! Please! I'm so sorry!" He chuckled and struck you again, now at the tender area just below your ass.
"Shhhh. Calm down my child. Just relax… and feel. Count for me."
You heard some small shuffles as he readjusted his own position, swapping the paddle for a belt, evidenced by the sudden crack of it on your skin. You shuddered and almost forgot to count for him, "o-one!"
You heard a hearty laugh from Jestyn as you were hit again, the pain already stinging from just how hard the priest was striking. "Two!"
A third one and Prieston had brought tears to your eyes, a fourth and a fifth and you were shaking. He kept swatting your ass no matter how your body reacted, experimenting with where and how he can hit you to get you to cry and moan and twitch just right. Just for him.
He paused after ten to admire the marks you now bore because of him, because of his movements. He softly caressed your bottom, kneading some of the sting away just to mockingly laugh at your audible wince. "Awww. Is it too much for my child? My sweet, innocent child can't bear to be hit? How cute." His voice was laced with something similar to contempt, but sweeter. Joy, maybe? Prieston chose to continue soon after, finding pleasure in your pain.
At twenty, he finally gave you mercy. You were too busy staring at the marble to notice that the abuse had stopped. Well, until you felt a collar clip around your neck and heard Prieston coo into your ears again.
"Suchhh a good child for me. You're a pretty toy, so sweet and delicate under me. Goood pet. Our audience is enjoying what you're showing off, puppy. I'm so proud of my puppy." His hands were stroking the tears from your cheeks, softly holding your face to his because to him; you were grandeur.
"As soon as pup wants me to stop anything, let your father know. Okay, pretty?" You nodded, your throat refusing to co-operate with your brain. "Goooood thing. Thank you for being so cute, so.. compliant. I don't like having to punish my children, pup. Understand me?" Another nod. Good.
Prieston reached across the table for the red leash, the same one you had used with Jestyn not too many days ago. God, if it looked good on Jestyn it must look just as good on you. Prieston gently guided you back up to standing with the leash, placing his hands on your hips. He turned you around and you leant into him, shoving your face into his still-clothed chest whilst you admired his eyes.
It didn't take long until he leant down to kiss your lips, aggressively claiming them has his own. He prodded his tongue at them, then slipped it in to explore your mouth once they had parted. His tongue was suffocating and dominating, controlling how you moved and breathed. Although it was thin, it was long. You could only begin to wonder how long certain other appendages were. Once you'd began to grow breathless he extracted his tongue and grinned, leaning you back on the altar.
The bible was knocked closer to the edge of the table as he leant over you, one hand placed beside your head and the other fumbling his pants. Your heavy breathing mirrored his own as you removed the final parts of your outfit whilst Prieston opted to stay mostly clothed, discounting the cloak.
He briefly stood back up to put a condom on and apply generous amounts of lube to you, then, leaning back over you, his gloved finger nimbly massaged your clit. He was rolling the nerves between his fingers to ensure you were sufficiently ready to take him, his thumb replacing his fingers, working in circles. His index found its way into you, fucking your hole slowly. You groaned, attempting to bury your skull further into the cold religious table you were trapped on. Your face turned away from him for just a moment before he yanked your leash, forcing you to look at him and him only. He added another finger, scissoring you open to account for the penis that had come out of his hole. It was certainly not human with how pointy and thick it was, its length another worry in and of itself.
After many minutes preparing you, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you empty and yearning. Your eyes widened after a short moment, the head of his cock pushing into you. You hissed at the stretch, instinctively biting at his arm, the softness of his clothes dipping at the pressure. Prieston ignored your attempt at self soothing, continuing to push into you despite your hisses. Every part of him was cold, including his dick. He eventually huffed and bottomed out, leaning on both his hands as he gave you a moment to get used to his size. It stung, so you took the chance to breath deep whilst you were briefly given mercy. He watched your facial expressions to attempt to judge when you were comfortable, so you gave him a nod when you felt ready. He pulled out slowly, leaving you empty for only a moment, before slamming back in. You whined, arms flying to his back and tugging at his shirt. Prieston really was trying to be gentle, almost shaking with restraint as he began rocking into you slowly. You grunted ever-so slightly as he stabilised his rhythm, murmuring into your ear, "so obedient for me, doll. Thank you god, oh heavenly father thank you." His pounding got rougher as he praised you, so much so that the bible was thrown off the altar.
Neither of you noticed, too focused on the movements of his cock and each-other's breathing. Jestyn was also dead silent in the audience, his bells occasionally jingling. You began shaking slightly from Prieston's relentlessness, his tip trying to bully its way to your cervix. His hips were bruising your own legs so you shifted your legs open slightly more, inadvertently allowing his dick deeper into you. Prieston huffed and pressed his face against yours, catching your dazed eyes and giving them something stable to focus on.
"My pretty thing is so out of it, so quiet... so compliant. Really are a doll aren't you?" You hummed and nodded slightly, just wanting to be a good puppy for Prieston and Jestyn. "It's okay, still love and cherish you, pup." You allowed yourself to smile, only to be pushed right out of it when he slowed himself down to push into you harder and deeper. He ran one of his hands down your body back to your clit, rubbing it as he allowed himself to lean on you for balance. You were crushed beneath him, and you felt your own pleasure begin to peak, but it wasn't truly enough. He kept you on the precipice, his eyes darkening at your desperation. "Beg."
You didn't process the words for a moment, your thoughts a fog of him and what he was doing to you. At one particularly rough thrust, it clicked, and words poured from your mouth. "Ohmygod please- please please please please let me cum father. Please, I'm so close. I'm-" he cut you off by giving you what you wanted, just that little bit of pressure you oh so craved. Your legs shook, your high hitting you hard, his movement never relenting as he worked you through it. It became overwhelming quickly, the priest finishing closely after you and pulling out to take the protection off. Jingling bells drew you gaze away, the priest allowing the action finally. Jestyn stood close, the white liquid running from the condom and into his mouth. His tongue dipped out, licking around his lips, catching any stray cum as it dripped down.
You didn't notice when your collar was unclipped, just that now the leash was nowhere to be seen. Prieston reached past Jestyn to grab some wipes to clean you both up, only to have Jestyn snap and have all three of you appear in the royal baths.
The room was mostly stone and wood, most of it designed for royalty. You'd been here before, you knew it was safe. Prieston helped you into the spring-like communal bath then aided Jestyn with his garments so that the jester could help you bathe. You were falling asleep in the pool, Jestyn holding and washing you gently. He whispered sweet nothings to you, doing his best to bring your reeling mind back to reality.
You only briefly closed your eyes, trying to give solace to your mind; you must have fallen asleep because the next thing you saw was Jestyn's chest. He had a vice grip on you and was whispering to Prieston. Once they noticed you were awake, Prieston sat at your other side and began to scratch your scalp.
Jestyn spoke first, "Sleep, my ruler. You were broken down today, and you need rest to rebuild."
"He's right. Go to sleep, sweet thing." You nodded, closing your eyes and letting your thoughts quiet down. All you could feel in that moment was Prieston's nails against your crown, Jestyn's heartbeat, and the wave of sleep that ebbed against your mind until you had eventually succumbed.
Price keeps a constant eye on you. He watches to see when you wince whilst walking, or for when you stretch a bit too far and you groan in pain. If he notices your pain is worse than usual on base, he'll have somebody (usually anybody who needs to be punished) take over the rest of your duties for the day whilst he ensures you get your rest and a nice hot bath. If he notices it during a mission, he expects you to push through... but he will have ibuprofen gel and some heating pads ready for you when you get to evac.
You go to Gaz for massages and preventative-stretching. He knows the right way to push and pull your joints for a normal stretch, and knows what excercises will strengthen some of your ligaments so you dont feel the pain as often. His massages help dull the pain, but don't help as much as Price's baths, so you only ask for massages on days with an.. inbetween amount of pain.
Soap slows his life down for you. He'll slow down when walking besides you so that you match his pace.. and all of a sudden your knees dont feel as tight. He'll eat slower so that you dont feel compelled to nearly choke on your food just to match the pace of the team. He'll remind you of things you need or may want to do during the day. Just because his actions are slower, doesnt mean his witty comments are.
Ghost advocates for you behind the scenes. Whenever a higher up has considered punishing you for a higher amount of "sick" days or medical supply use during the mission, he argues your case. Ghost makes sure you're comfortable around base, placing blankets and pillows on or near your favourite spots. He brings you a nice cuppa and a snack when you're resting, and sits with you for a while. He helps you feel seen. They all do.
Today sucked. None of the recruits bothered listening to your words, ending up in a fight and paperwork for you to do on both yours and their behalfs—so you coped, the only way you knew how. Music. It was perfect, it drowned out your thoughts and any irritating background noise that could distract you from your perfectly constructed daydream—only at the small risk of going deaf.
About halfway through a playlist, when your eyes were closed and you were so damn close to humming despite being sat in the somewhat-busy rec room, there was a tug at your headphones. You felt them fall and land right on your lap, head and eyes snapping up to the culprit, mouth opening to reactively scald whichever recruit was bothering you this time. Instead, you shut your mouth and felt your expression soften as your facade fell in an instant.
In front of you was, first and foremost, your boss. But he never felt like a boss, not to you. He was a charming face, a shoulder to lean on. A friend. Sure, you knew Graves was a dangerous man, but you were just friends. Nothing would happen.
"Y'alright darlin?" He smiled, hand holding your still held up arm and gently placing it on your lap as he sat beside you.
"Yeah I'm fine, just-" You avoided his gaze, deciding that the floor was far more attractive to look at in this moment.
"Don't lie to me." His tone picked up only slightly, but his accent became a whole lot more clear. It always did when he got louder.
"Sorry-"
"Don't say sorry." He squeezed your arm, urging you to look at him.
"Sor-" you closed your eyes and took a deep breathe. In and out. When you turned your head and reopened your eyes he was still there. You could trust him. "I'm stressed. The recruits got to me today."
He hummed, gently pulling you into him as he glared at another shadow who was staring. You didn't even notice her looking until then, but you were soon distracted by the sound of his heartbeat. It was soft and distant, a steady beat—far more relaxing than any song you had been listening to. "This 'bout the fight?"
"Yeah. It's frustrating."
"I 'ad the same troubles when i was jus' a Lieutenant." He paused, letting his own wall fall for just long enough for you to see into his mind. "Tell you what, leave the paperwork to me. I'll get it done. I'd say you need a break. A darn good one at that." His hand was absentmindedly rubbing your wrist now, attempting to soothe the pair of you. "How's a walk sound? Just until dinner's served."
You smiled and were about to nod, just barely stopped by the hint of his fingers holding your chin up to his face. You faltered, stunned by the sudden intensity of the eye contact. "Uh- yeah. Sure."
He smiled back as he stood, helping you up from the sofa despite your lack of injury. "Good. God knows you deserve it, my darlin'."
It was a pleasant walk, his hand in yours as he led you around the base that both of you had lived on for years by now. The pair of you paraded through base, glimpsing at the surprisingly healthy trees and general surroundings. You heard a crow, then another, and you even caught a glimpse of a very brave fox that scurried away once it saw you through the grated fence. You smiled, having forgotten about the recruits by now.
Once you were at the same bench that you’d spent so many breaks sitting upon, he placed himself by your side. You remained silent for a while, tracking shadows that walked past, watching as the crowd dipped in and out of the buildings; you saw one of your troublemakers half stumbling out of the med bay, a bandage or ten covering his arms and face. You hadn’t even noticed your mind wander back to work–just how much did you have to do? How many forms, how much training, how much exercise. It hardly left you any time for hobbies. He squeezed your hand - just enough to make you aware of the sigh you were in the middle of - and smiled. “‘Ave I ever told you tha’ yer writing's great? Real creative, entertained whatever i seen an’ i ain't read no books since… well since before the military darlin.”
"You've read my-"
He chuckled, looking into your thoughts, "hard to resist when i see them out and about. Its good work."
"Oh- thank you Phil."
He smiled as he wrapped his arm around you and chuckled, gently pulling you in as he spoke. "Darlin, there's no need to be so scared of me. I've seen you bloody, I've seen you killin, I've seen you sweaty, hell I've even seen you sleepin. Dont be any amount shy."
You smiled, letting him pull you in as your eyes fell and breathing slowed. He kept a firm hold on you, his chest rising and falling and radiating warmth. He was your safe space.
Just finished watching the Mario Movie and I am sick. And its midnight. And i am obsessed with big stupid DK. Sorry anybody who knows me.
Donkey Kong x ftm!reader headcanons
- if you don't want to train with him, he teaches you the basics of self defense (with a bit of his flourish added on)
- if you DO want to train with him, he does not apare you. Makes you do exactly what he does only... scaled down. Same amount of stretches for the same amount of time, same amount of excercises for the same reps and sets. It completely drains you, but DK is grinning from ear to stupid ear with pride, asking if he'll "see you tomorrow?"
- he's there when you take your T-shot, plaster and sharps bin in hand. Pats your back and knocks the wind out of you afterwards, but you've learned how to stay still when he does this by now.
- talks about how happy he is that you're as manly as himself. Mainly says it to boost his own confidence.
- realllyyy sore loser. You're about as good at kart racing as he is so every time you win he huffs and puffs until you hug him and give him a pep talk about how men like him shouldnt be petty. The reverse happens whenever he wins.
- behind his facade, he's actually... not too different. He's still very playful, and still mean and playful and imposing just to a lesser extent.
- his hugs are deadly. You have to swipe his face to get him to let go of you nearly every time so that you can breathe.
- in honour of the new DK game, you pick up his "oh, banana!" As a stim and once it starts neither of you can stop.
Graves cant turn his darlin' down. Cant say no to anything you want. You want an extra break? Sure, go ahead! You want a bit of extra food, some alcohol maybe. You want some extra funding for your workshop or office? Fine, that old thing needs an upgrade anways.
But if you want him?
Suddenly he's having his own fun with you; he's whispering and smirking and not giving you eye contact and just barely touching you. Graves plays games with you. He makes sure that the other shadows notice - he isnt giving you his brotherly hugs all of a sudden, nor is he engaging you in banter.
And they know. Most have them have had the same song and dance with their beloved commander, their man.
They also know that nothing will happen, except for you losing your privilege to some fresh blood.
He's waiting for the right person, and it isnt one of his shadows. Its not right. Never has been, and never will be right to have relationships with his own subordinates. It's one of the few strong social codes he lives by. It protects him, and it protects the people he loves the most.
Self indulgent drabble for today, yay! Need to redo this account too. Sigh.
Tf141 helping transmasc reader deal with dysphoria, barely any description. Not spell checked or beta read.
Gaz isnt sublte at all. Just makes constant comments throughout the day about how you're "his boy" and about how unusually strong and manly you look whilst eating a burger, all because he noticed the smallest look of self doubt that normally comes with days like these. He also has the habit of being more feminine than usual to prove to you that men aren't always aggressive and tough. You have to believe him, especially when he bats his eyelashes at you like he doesnt have a clue as to what he's doing.
Price who wraps an arm around your shoulders and tugs you into his side, roughing up your hair and grins, knowing just how much you'd been struggling with dysphoria today. He calls you son as he hands you a beer at the end of the day, looking proud as you finally manage to drink the whole thing in one go instead of maybe 2 or 3 extraordinarily large mouthfuls. He expects you to be just like him, soon enough; you will be.
Soap catches you mid workout. He doesnt let you leave the gym, doesnt let you hide anything. He paws at your pecs, your forearms, your waist and ass. Why would he let you go? He needs to remind you of how he sees you - as a man.
Ghost says and does nothing. He follows you around, always a few feet behind you even if he really shouldnt be. When you look at yourself in the mirror, clearly distressed about your body and your face, he gives you a glare that you only catch through the mirror. You both know he's right.
Info: Reader is hypermobile, mostly written for me.
Word count: 526
Tags: Fluff, do not read if squeamish?, mentions of bones, mentions of dislocation, gn!reader x poly!141
You groaned in boredom, the metal of the cuffs digging into the already raw skin of your wrists. You hadn’t been here too long, and none of the Konni had done anything too severe to harm you. It been a cycle of waking up, being given slop for breakfast, then hours of interrogation until it was time for you to sleep again.
This time though? There was an interruption mid-interrogation. You had no clue what it was, the only indicator for it being all of them leaving your cell swiftly, their indistinct chatter certainly panicked.
Probably just Makarov wanting to give a big speech.
The sound of an all too familiar voice brought you out of your mind-numbing thoughts, your mind returning to your body. “Bonnie!”You grinned and nodded upwards slightly, acknowledging Soap’s new presence in the room. He’s just… burst through the door as if it was paper.
If it meant him reaching you quicker, it was paper, as far as he was concerned.
Gaz came clambering behind him, the youngest of the team beaming at you. “Aight, luv?”“Yeah, I’m fine.”Johnny began fiddling with the cuffs that stuck you to the chair, the sound of his frustrated breathing distracting you from how much him doing so hurt. “Go ta’ find the keys will ya?”
Gaz sighed and left the room, your neck now straining so you could see the very annoyed Johnny behind you. “No need to get all in a huff about it, Soap.”“No, Bonnie, I need to get you out now-”“You should listen to him for once.” Your head snapped forward, Simon approaching you, his hand reaching out to gently hold your chin still. “The old man is the only thing between us and more bloody Konni gettin here, sweetpea. Listen to him”You shook your head (as much as you could, anyways) and frowned slightly. “Nonono, seriously. There is no need to worry about me.”
You clicked your thumb slightly into your palm, the feeling nothing but uncomfortable with how many times you had willingly dislocated it. It was almost like second nature to you now, your hyper mobility just allowing you to do these things. You merely grinned slightly as Gaz walked into the room, Price not too far behind him; they had the keys now.
Oh well.
You smiled guiltily and slid your hands out of the cuffs, the metal clanging on the concrete below you, landing on Soap’s foot. He frowned slightly and looked down, his brain connecting the lack of cuffs on your wrist with your now out of place thumbs. He audibly groaned, rubbing his forehead as if he was your babysitter. “Bonnie, you did not-”
“I did.”
You grinned, holding your hands in your lap as you looked down at your thumbs, casually popping them into place like butter. Gaz audibly whimpered, concern filling his face. He could almost feel it in his own body, whereas Ghost just let go of you and watched, his feelings about it unclear. Price just sighed and dropped the keys, turning back around to survey the hallway, “Jesus, darlin. No need for all that jazz.”
