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lambilegs · 2 months ago

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I adore your best friend's older sister! Sevika headcanons, literally been rereading since last night 😫

I had a thought, a little crumb, a little ✨food for thought ✨, but what about Best friend's older sister! Sevika getting jealous. Maybe they aren't together yet and she spots reader getting a lil too cozy with another friend. Or maybe they are together and Sevika is not liking the way reader's coworker is gettin a lil too comfy 👀😤

I've truly thought about this too often lol, sorry for the rambles ♡

best friend's older sister!sevika getting jealous <3

note to anon: BAE DON'T APOLOGIZE THIS IDEA IS SOOOO <33 and omg thank you so so much!! I'm so happy you like it hehe. so, I decided to expand upon the first idea you gave because it's so so good, though I LOVE both. like, thank you so much for sending these thoughts AHHH <33

so, I totally agree with you that best friend's older sister!sevika would definitely be possessive. it's only worsened pre-confession because you're not hers yet, so she doesn't feel like she has much of a right to do anything about it. at least if you guys were together, she could wrap her arm around your waist or kiss your head, something silent to signify to others that you're hers.

but, as much as you two have teased and been pushing and pulling these past few months, that's all it's been. push, pull, push, pull. no confession, no asking out, no dates. and, listen, sevika doesn't mind the long game necessarily -- she knew from the get go that if she was gonna be pursuing you, it'd have to be serious. she wasn't about to get into some vague, unidentified shit with her sister's best friend. not only would her sister kill her for that, but it's not even what she's interested in in the first place. it's easy to talk to you, to trust you. it's easy to want something longterm with you. but, longterm means she needs to put in the work of trusting you. and for her, that takes a while. so, she doesn't mind the long game.

what she does mind, though, is that taking things slow means that in this whole getting-to-know-you phase, she doesn't know exactly where your head is at. if you want something serious, if you're ready for a relationship. she knows she should be asking you these questions, but as much as she hates to admit it, it makes her uncomfortable to think of being so honest about these feelings of hers. and what being honest could potentially lead to, like a pierce into your guys' relationship, whatever the hell it is.

but, goddammit, is it fucking hard to not grab you, drag you to her room and show you exactly how she feels when you're on the living room couch, canoodling up to one of the girls in yours and her sister's friend group. she knows how it is for you guys. no boundaries, endless amounts of teasing, flirting, nasty jokes. but, that doesn't make it any easier to see you nuzzling your head into one of their shoulders, the two of you swapping and laughing hysterically over suggestive comments about leaving the room to do some "private activities."

sevika grits her teeth from where she can hear the conversation, gripping the handle to the fridge hard. she sucks in a sharp breath, shakes her head, and grabs her bottle of water from the side shelf. shutting it close quietly, she makes her way to her bedroom, sock-clad feet heavy against the wood.

when she walks past your group, practically cuddled in the living room, she nods quietly at the group of you guys, feeling her shoulders tense up when you and her make eye contact. your head darts off your friend's shoulder, and she nearly snickers. you really aren't subtle when it comes to paying her attention. and today, she doesn't feel like returning it, her stomach clenched in anger over the unabashed flirting she just overheard.

she's in the middle of tinkering at her desk, tweaking some annoying shit that keeps making a scraping noise every few hours, when a knock comes to her room.

"yeah?" she mutters, trying not to throw the screwdriver right at the wall.

when you poke your head in, she glances at your momentarily before continuing her work. she hates how her stomach flips at your arrival, how she suddenly feels clumsy with the tools under your gaze.

"what?"

you start from where you lean on her doorframe. "I just, um, wanted to check if we're good?"

"just peachy," she huffs out, dragging her wrist past her brow, which is sticky with sweat. "why?"

"well, um..." you trail off, shifting on your feet. "you usually smile or say hi now, and right now, you didn't."

she feels a flash of irrational annoyance. she doesn't like the fact that you can read her so easily, as though you have her constantly under a microscope. she doesn't wanna have to deal with her jealousy, her feelings, but you cornering and confronting her like this doesn't make that easy.

"I'm fine."

she blinks hard at the gears when her bedroom door softly clicks shut.

"no, you're not. sevika, come on, what's wrong?" you trot over to her desk, standing right next to her, shoving your presence into her space. "tell me."

she sighs, her body stiff with embarrassment and irritation at your stubbornness. god, things would be so much easier if you weren't so damn feisty, always snapping back at her. but, at the same time, though she'd never tell you, she can't help but like your persistence.

"do you have to be so damn flirty with all your friends?" she bites, immediately regretting the words as soon as they shoot out. so much for subtlety.

your head jerks back. "that's why you're upset? sevika, I've always flirted with them, you know that. I'm sure you've seen your fair share of it for years now."

"yeah, well, now, it's different." she keeps her eyes locked onto the desk, and when she realizes just how thinly veiled the implication of her words are, she rushes to add, "now, I think it's risky shit. you know, someone could get the wrong idea."

you scoff. "it's been like this for years. no one will get the wrong idea."

she rolls her eyes, grumbling incoherent words. she knows you're right. she's made her own fair share of jokes like that with her buddies, even the ones she wouldn't be caught dead with in any lifetime. and you're right, your little gang has always been like this. but, none of that helps to dampen the burning irritation that grows in her stomach when she sees you being so touchy with someone who isn't her. with someone who may think they have a chance with you, no matter how slim. she doesn't want you to have options, she wants to be the only one you see in that way.

"and I don't want you to get the wrong idea, either."

she freezes at the words, her hand stilling.

you inch in closer and your warm palm rests on her shoulder. she feels something stir inside her at the touch, wishing you'd slide the rest of your hand down her arm. you guys have touched briefly, sure, but it's usually fleeting, teasing. this, though? this is tender, and -- it's intimate. you're trying to reassure her, she can tell. she knows it's a nice thing to do, but a part of her cringes at the fact that her feelings were so badly concealed that you even needed to comfort her at all. she should be better than this.

"I don't see anyone in my group like that, okay?" you pause, and the silence between you two thickens. right before it becomes suffocating to the point of sevika forcing herself to respond, you add, your voice quiet and shaky, "trust me, it's not my friends whose attention I want like that. just one other person... who's close by."

her nostrils flare, her breaths feeling tighter than before. are you saying what she thinks you are?

"okay," she manages to get out.

"okay." your hand slips from her shoulder, and she feels the cold of your absence as you turn to leave. without thinking, her hand flies up, catching yours.

your head whips to her in surprise, eyes wide and curious.

she thumbs at your pulse point, some of her confidence regaining through feeling how it spikes. but, still, there's an undercurrent of discomfort, so she tries to steady her voice before saying, "you know, I have a pretty good shoulder too."

you laugh, ducking your head down. sevika tries not to pull you in closer, coax you to look at her when she talks. "yes, I'm sure you do," you respond, a sarcastic lilt to your voice.

"well, obviously. you're always checking me out when I work out."

you splutter, eyebrows scrunched indignantly. "well, that's because you insist on working out in front of us always! for all I know, maybe you're the one who's into someone in our group."

your voice is mocking, but sevika hears the tremors of it towards the end. are you nervous that she maybe is into someone else but you? or are you hopeful it's you?

you gave her a bit of assurance, so she might as well return the favour.

"maybe there is someone I'm trying to impress. someone who'd maybe notice that more if they weren't always shoving their face in other people's chests."

she can see how your eyes bulge at the semi-confession, your palm slick with sweat in her hand. your mouth flaps open for a few seconds, before shakily saying, "well, you did offer yourself up as a substitute."

her cheeks ache with how hard she's trying not to grin too widely. "don't get too excited."

you wring your hand from her grip, smiling coyly as you reach for her doorknob. "I'll try to contain myself."

#WROTE THIS IN A RUSH BC I'M HEADING OUT SOON BUT I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY HEHE #not proofread I'm sorryyyy #s.writing #sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x you #arcane x you

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sleepingdiaryzzz · 3 months ago

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Yandere batfamily x neglected reader

From the moment you were ten, you had sought their attention like a moth drawn to a flame. But the flame was always too hot, always too far away, and with every desperate attempt to get close, they burned you. You had been a shadow in their world, hovering at the edges of their lives, wanting, needing. Needing. That word, so simple, yet it had been the curse of your existence. You needed them. You needed their time, their care, their love. But they never saw you, never acknowledged the pit of loneliness that gnawed at you every time you begged to be included.

They had brushed you aside, every single time.

The family, your family, was never really yours.

It started when you were just a kid. “Not now, kid,” they would say. Or “Go play somewhere else.” Every time you tried to insert yourself into their lives, they shoved you away, like a toy they’d grown tired of. They didn’t need you. Not when there were bigger things at stake. Not when Gotham was drowning in its own darkness, when the Batcave was filled with the hum of machinery and the rush of adrenaline.

You were just a distraction.

You were nothing.

The words didn’t change as you grew older. They only got sharper.

When you were twelve, you tried again—this time with more subtlety. You offered to help, to be something, anything that would make them notice you. I can be useful, I promise. But no. No, they couldn’t have you tagging along. Not when there were more important things to do, more important people to be with. You were only a child.

By the time you turned fifteen, the bitter reality had set in. You weren’t wanted. You weren’t needed. They were a family—their family—and you? You were the outcast, the inconvenience they only tolerated because they had no choice. They didn’t want you, but they had to keep you around. The occasional glance from Tim, a brief acknowledgment from Dick—enough to keep the illusion of familial love alive, but never enough to make you feel like you mattered.

It wasn’t just Bruce anymore. He had become an empty figure in your life, a distant authority figure who only spoke when there was something to be done. Do this. Do that. Don’t ask questions. That was how you learned to live under his roof—like a shadow. Like a nothing.

There were moments when you thought you might be able to break through. When you thought maybe—just maybe—they would see you for who you were, someone who could stand beside them, shoulder to shoulder, not as a burden but as a part of the family.

But those moments were fleeting. They were crumbs, pieces of hope that you clung to like a starving animal, only for them to be yanked away, leaving you empty once again.

By the time you turned sixteen, you no longer asked. No longer begged. You had learned that your needs were nothing but noise to them. So, you stayed quiet, retreating into the corners of their lives. You were there, but invisible. A ghost that haunted the edges of their family but was never invited to sit at the table.

But it wasn’t just the coldness that broke you. No. It was the sharpness of their words.

The day it all ended—the day your last shred of hope died—had come like a storm.

You were seventeen when you finally broke. You had asked, yet again, for something so simple. You wanted to hang out, to spend the evening together, just for once. No work. No patrols. Just them. Just family. But Dick—always so perfect, so composed—snapped.

“Stop nagging, goddammit!” His voice was low, but the venom was there. The venom that cut deeper than any blade. “I don’t have time for this. You’re not a kid anymore. You should know better.”

And it was in that moment, when the words hit you like fists to your chest, that you knew. It was over. They will never care about you.

No more pleading. No more silence. You were done.

You wanted to scream, to break down and tell him how it felt to always be ignored, to always be pushed aside. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. All you could do was stare at him, the person you had once looked up to, the brother who had made you feel like you belonged. And now? Now he hated you. He resented you. You were just a thorn in his side, something he couldn’t wait to get rid of.

The Batfamily didn’t need you. They didn’t even want you. You were just a memory in the background of their perfect little world.

And so, you left.

You packed your things and left Gotham without a second thought. You didn’t care anymore. You didn’t care about them. You didn’t care about the lies you had told yourself for years, that someday they would come to love you. No. You were done.

You found a small apartment in a city far, far away. The rent was cheap. The food was okay. It didn’t matter. For the first time in years, you felt a strange kind of peace. No more begging. No more hoping for something that was never going to come.

But the peace didn’t last long. It never does.

Months passed, and the Batfamily went on without you. It wasn’t like you expected them to notice, but they did. They always did.

It started slowly at first. A message from Bruce, terse and businesslike, asking how you were. A phone call from Dick, his voice hesitant, full of uncertainty. Tim sent an email—just a few lines, but still. He’d written “We miss you.”

You didn’t respond. The first few days, you let it sit there, those words ringing in your ears. We miss you. The words came so easily now, but where had they been all those years? You stared at the screen, a hollow laugh escaping your lips. Miss you? They had pushed you aside when you needed them most. They had ignored you, told you to shut up, told you to go away.

Now they missed you?

You threw your phone across the room and sat down, gripping your hair, letting the quiet take you over.

It wasn’t until the second month that they started to call. At first, it was Tim—his voice softer than it had been in years, like a penitent ghost, when he called you.

“Please… just talk to us. We’re… we’re worried about you.”

You didn’t pick up.

Then, Dick. His voice cracked when he asked if you were okay. Just talk to us. How many times had you told them that? How many times had you begged? And now, they were begging you? You felt the rage swell inside you, the bitterness of those years threatening to break you apart.

And that was when they came.

It wasn’t just a phone call. It wasn’t just messages anymore. They came looking for you.

Nightwing was the first. He showed up at your door, standing there in his familiar suit, but his smile was tight, his eyes uncertain.

“Please,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “We just want to talk.”

You stared at him, the same person who had once smiled at you like you meant the world to him. And now? Now he looked like a stranger. Someone who didn’t know who you were. And maybe, in a way, he didn’t.

“Why?” you asked, your voice rough from months of silence. “Why now? Where were you when I needed you?”

The guilt in his eyes only deepened. “We were wrong,” he said, the words fragile, like he was afraid they would break if spoken too loudly. “We… we miss you.”

The anger rose in your chest. They missed you?

The words sounded so hollow. What good was their love now?

They all came. One by one, each member of the family arrived at your door, apologizing, begging for forgiveness, for your attention, your love.

But it was too late.

They had pushed you away for too long, and now you could feel it: the suffocating weight of their regret, the twisting hunger of their need.

They needed you. They needed you so badly. They would never let you go again.

It wasn’t just about family anymore. It wasn’t just about reconciliation. Now, it was about possession.

And the family would do whatever it took to keep you close—no matter the cost.

Gotham had never felt farther away, yet the shadows of the family loomed larger than ever.

You weren’t sure if you were ready to go back, to reopen that door. But deep down, you knew one thing.

They would never let you leave again.

And now?

Now, they were willing to do anything to make sure of it.

(A/n: no part 2 becuz it's a one shot 😸)

#yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere batman #batfam x reader #yandere batman x reader #batfamily x reader #😹- drabble

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beloveds-embrace · 21 days ago

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(Part two of this: “house-trained” simon riley)

The second visit to Ghost’s cozy cottage started with the same mixture of disbelief and awe as the first. The team once again found themselves surrounded by pastel walls, cheerful flower boxes, and an overwhelming sense of warmth that clashed with every preconceived notion they’d had about their masked lieutenant, but at least this time it was a mere courtesy visit and without the worries of needing to stay hidden hanging over them.

The morning began with the usual spectacle: Simon quietly, happily obeying your every request without a care about his team’s amused stares.

“Si, love, could you grab the butter from the fridge?”

Simon stood immediately, massive frame moving through the delicate kitchen with surprising ease. He returned with the butter in hand and set it on the counter, earning a soft, “Thank you, darling.” And a gentle kiss to his temple.

Soap snorted from the couch, where he was wrapped in one of your soft, pastel-colored blankets. He loved them- had spent the entire time before having one on his shoulders, and this time it’d been the first thing he asked for. “Still can’t believe this is you, L.T.”

“Believe it.” Simon replied flatly, brushing his hand against the small of your back as he walked by.

But this time, you didn’t stop with Simon.

“Johnny?” You called sweetly, stepping into the living room with a tray in hand.

Soap looked up, a crumb of your delicious cookies already on his chin. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” You giggled, setting the tray on the coffee table. “Would you mind fluffing the pillows for me? They’re looking a bit flat.”

Soap blinked, still not sure he heard right. “You’re asking me to- ?”

“I would ask Simon, of course,” you said innocently, a little pout on your lips. “But he’s busy getting the sugar for tea. You’re not busy, are you?”

Caught in your warm, expectant gaze, Soap sighed, tossing the blanket aside (gently) with a dramatic groan. “Fine, fine, hen. I’ll fluff your bloody pillows.”

“Thank you, Johnny!” You beamed.

Gaz laughed as Soap began half-heartedly fluffing the floral cushions, grumbling under his breath the entire time- though they were all light grumbles.

“You’ll get used to it.” Simon said dryly, walking past with a jar of sugar in hand. “Good on her for not having you just sit on your arse.”

“Gaz,” you said brightly, then, turning your attention to him. “Do you mind helping me bring in the tea trays? I’ve got too much to carry, and I’d hate to make Simon do it all.”

Gaz stood at attention at your call of his name, caught off guard. “I- yes, Ma’am.”

You led him into the kitchen, where a tray laden with delicate china teacups and a teapot sat waiting. “Careful,” you said gently, placing another tray of sandwiches into his hands. “These teacups are my grandmother’s, and they’re quite old.”

You got them from a thrift shop, but who said you can’t have a little fun?

Gaz nodded earnestly, gripping the tray with the utmost care- as if it was a secret weapon, or a file with the most important information recorded on earth. He carried it like he was on a mission. When he re-entered the living room, Soap was still fluffing pillows, now with exaggerated vigor, muttering. “Is this fluffy enough for ya, lass?”

“Perfect, thank you.” You said as you placed a small vase of flowers on the coffee table. “Oh, Captain?”

Price looked up from where he’d been lounging by the window, his hands resting comfortably on his knees. He’d been amused at how you basically commanded his men, but now that your attention was on him…

“Would you mind slicing the lemon for the tea?” you asked softly and sweetly, holding out a small knife and a lemon. “Your hands look steady. I want good, even slices, please. You seem like the type to do it properly the first time.”

Caught between amusement and curiosity, Price rose from his seat and took the knife and lemon from you. He stood by the kitchen counter, slicing perfect, even rounds of lemon while Simon watched from his chair, clearly enjoying the sight of even his commanding officer being gently bossed around.

By the time the tea was ready, Soap had been roped into setting the table with floral plates and napkins (“Really? Floral?”

“Why not? The blankets you like so much also have floral designs!”)

Gaz was carrying plates of cheeses and olives with the care of a man defusing a bomb, and Price was pouring tea into delicate porcelain cups like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You floated through the room with a soft, effortless authority, gently directing each of them like it was second nature.

“Johnny, could you fetch the coasters from the drawer? I don’t want the table getting scratched.”

“Kyle, do you mind straightening that picture frame? It’s a little crooked.”

“Captain, would you light that candle? It’s my favorite scent, and I think you’d like it too.”

And somehow, none of them could say no to you. Not like they even considered it.

By the time everyone was seated, Simon pulled out your chair for you, his large hand resting briefly on your shoulder before he sat beside you. Soap stared at the table, now perfectly set and adorned with delicate tea accoutrements, and declared: “I think we just got outmaneuvered by a woman in a cardigan.”

“Outclassed, more like.” Gaz added, reaching for the olive oil and za’atar plate.

But when you turned that radiant smile on them, warmly thanking them for their help, none of them could bring themselves to mind. And with Simon watching as well, none of them even dared to mind.

#noona.writes #cod x reader #cod x you #cod #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 x you #tf 141 #cod imagines #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley imagines #simon riley imagines #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader

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rhaeheartzsquirrelz · 2 months ago

Text

Repay

Needy Ellie Williams x Reader (fluff)

Summary: Ellie needing attention and giving you some right back.

Warning: Sexual tension.

A/N: Short ahh fic 🤧

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Huddled up on the couch with Ellie’s dinosaur blanket over your legs, you scrolled on your phone. Your typical weekend was spent rotting in the living room and munching on snacks. You honestly had nothing better to do. Well, you could hang out with you friends. But what’s the point in that when you had Ellie? Who would drag you back home to cuddle. Due to your work schedule, the weeknd were the only time you and your girlfriend could hang out, spend time together. And, speaking of your girlfriend; where was she? In her room playing Call of Duty— or something like that?..

Mouth full of chips, you entertained yourself with social media. Like always. The time seemed to pass quickly and you raise your head to see Ellie appear from her cave of a room. A hand came up to scratch her head as she looked around for you before spotting you on the couch. Looking comfortable as ever. And, she, of course, came to snuggle up with you. Laying ontop of you, head on your stomach, hands to the sides of your waist, she hummed with content.

Both hands busy, you gave her a glance before returning to your screen. Distracted by the videos and blogs you were focused on, even minecraft videos seemed to interest you with those reddit strories. Which never seemed to have a part two. Ellie was growing more insistent on wanting your hands on her. With a tap on your waist, she shook her head to indicate she wanted her hair played with. You were sure she’d never stop being so needy for you, always fussing for reassurance, as her dramatic ass would describe it, that you still loved her. Rolling your eyes, you clap the crumbs off your hands before giving your girlfriend’s hair a pull.

“Hey!” She grumbled out, “that’s not what I meant!” Giving you a bratty glare, she mumbled something under her breath. You couldn’t help but laugh at her frustration, it was as cute as ever. After a stressful round of shooting at players, Ellie was a mess. Desperately needing you to touch the anxiety out of her. And you gave her what she wanted everytime. “I’m kidding! You don’t have to worry your ass of, damn.” Tone, both, mocking and playful, you run your hands through your girlfriend’s hair. Her auburn strands locked onto your slender fingers as you worked to play with them.

“Whatever..” She huffed, going back to resting her head on your stomach with a roll of her eyes. Ellie had a thing for the way you could ease her up in one touch, in one small interaction. All it took was your attention, which she craved at all times. A humm of approval would escape her lips as you kept in mind where and how to massage her scalp. The tips of your fingers working in circular motions to kneed away any remaining frustration. Occasionally pressing your thumbs against her flesh and running them down the back of her neck, you noticed the soft moan your girlfriend let out everytime.

“Someone’s enjoying themselves?” You grinned out, cupping her head before tilting your head to the side until it rested on the cushions of the couch. “Don’t stop, idiot..” Her demand made you giggle, and you guessed it was contagious because it made Ellie flash her cheeky grin. “Stop!” She huffed out, shaking your hands off her head and burrying her face into your stomach. She was trying not to seem embarrassed. “Stop what? You just told me not to!” The room was filled with your girlfriend’s heavenly chuckles and groans. “You asshole! You know what I meant!”

You did know what she meant, but seeing your girlfriend all flustered and annoyed was a precious ass sight. You soaked it all in before cupping her face and squishing her cheeks together. “I know exactly what you mean, but, maybe, I just wanna hear you being direct about it.” Knowing full well what you were doing to your girlfriend, you smiled with fondness.

“I hate you..” She let out quietly, eyes averting yours as she gathered her breath. “I want your attention, alright? No phone, no.. chips, just us.” And, for a second you were caught off guard. You didn’t think she’d actually admit something so.. sincere. Whenever Ellie wanted to, she could become as clingy as a koala. Never letting go, following you around, begging for attention and touch. But, this was one of the rare times you’d hear her being this open.

“Aaaand, what do I get in return?” Was your response, hiding your nervousness. “Kisses.” Ellie answered, an affectionate smile playing on her lips before her hands began slipping your shirt up and stopping under your chest. No intimacy needed when all your girlfriend needed was pure and innocent love. Or so you thought?

“Kisses fix everything.” For Ellie, hell yeah they did. If you happened to piss her off by placing her console in the wrong place, kiss the anger away. She’s crying over a sad cat video? Peck her freckles with and she’ll be blushing like some teenager. Need her to shut up? Give her a big ol’ smooch and you’ll get exactly that. All she’d crave was your touch, nothing more and nothing less.

With a squeeze on your waist, her lips pecked their way around your skin. Her kisses lingering a second too long before she’d move to another spot, your hand came to brush her hair away from her face, not wanting it to interrupt her delicious pecking. “See.. feels good, doesn’t it?”

Even though the moment was.. a bit intimate , you knew it was from the bottom of her heart. With her lips travelling up to your neck, she gave you the world’s best kisses. Brushing over your heated flesh with her rosy and scarred-up lips, she stopped by your own. Her breath shaky, cheeks flushed, and eyes full of adoration.

Ellie was something else.

With a short inhale, she pressed her lips against yours. Slow taps with the occasional tongue. You could feel her shaky breath on you, the desperation as she grasped onto your waist, and the neediness as she let slip soft whines. Was she trying to get laid?

With a final peck, your girlfriend pulled back. Her green eyes took their sweet time to open again, and when they did they landed straight on your lips. No doubt about it, she was still craving more.

“Well, aren’t you fussy today?” You breathlessly chuckled out. With a huff, Ellie rolled her eyes and shifted to burrying her face into the crook of your perfectly heated neck. “Shut up..” Was her grumbled out response.

“Like hell I will, El.”

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saetoru · 1 year ago

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Tee…

I’m now on my hands and knees BEGGING for bully Gojo who is (secretly) DISGUSTINGLY IN LOVE over the reader PLEASE ANY CRUMBS I WILL TAKE

(you don’t actually have to write this it was just a nice thought)

idkkkkk if it’s rly bully gojo—but he’s definitely a real cunt for sure.

i just think about an asshole! gojo a lot like he’s ur lab partners or something and he does that stereotypical jerk move where he’s like “seriously ?? her ??” when he’s first paired with you. and he’s just naturally an douche, yk ?? wears sunglasses indoors and makes jokes at the professors expense under his breath that gets him snickers and snorts from his frat guys in his class. has to be asked more than once to “please keep it down in the middle of class” by wtv prof he’s in class with.

and he ofc makes u do all the work bc he can’t be bothered—and on the rare occasion that he is bothered, he just does a poor job that’s the bare minimum and sloppy enough that ur like wtv i’ll just do it myself. and then ofc sometimes u don’t have a choice but to meet up to finish something after class every now and then—he wouldn’t care to, but he actually needs to know the stuff for the final report he has to write individually, so he begrudgingly meets up with you, and sometimes you notice his friends give you an amused look when he walks up with them. they snicker before they leave as he sits with you. sometimes they make a snide comment here and there like “have fun with ur super hot date” that makes him roll his eyes—he doesn’t do much to hide the look of distaste on his face.

but then—and he doesn’t even know when it happens—you start to slowly grow on him. because ur actually pretty snarky urself, sometimes making a dry comment here and there about the professor and his stupid bald headed self. sometimes a girl in the distance laughs too hard a group of guys that u roll ur eyes and mumble how “if i had a voice like that i’d never laugh in public” and it makes him snort a bit without meaning to. sometimes you stare daggers at the person who has their music so loud thru their headphones they can’t help but notice u and turn it down in embarrassment. ur actually not as much of a pushover as he thought—you just genuinely think he’s too incapable to help u out that you’ve just shrugged him off and started doing his part. it’s an easy weekly lab class anyway, you don’t need him—and then he realizes that u rly just don’t care for him. his little snickers at u with his friends and their snide comments roll off ur back bc well…he’s him—an asshole little frat boy and u didn’t expect anything better from him. so it makes him a little intrigued—maybe a little wounded in his pride, deep down, because no one has ever been indifferent to him before. they’re either madly in love, or they hate his guts, or they follow his lead. either works—he still gets the attention he craves.

but u just don’t rly care. and ur actually pretty cool, and kinda sorta funny in a way no one else is. he likes it…and fuck, now he’s starting to like you. he can tell bc when his friends ask how his little date with you went, he starts getting a bit huffy ab it bc they don’t need to talk about you. they don’t even know you…but also….its not a date. and that’s the worst part. sometimes it feels like a date. almost—sometimes you both decide to take a break in between and go get a coffee or a light snack. sometimes he’s even paid (to which you look mildly shocked before politely thanking him) and you both walk back to the library while u make light banter and it’s…well, fun. and nice. and your laugh is pretty. and your smile is kinda cute and he (though he hates to admit it) rly likes it when u laugh because of him.

and then things start to get messy—really, he didn’t mean for it to start this way. he really was meaning to ask you in a genuine manner to see u again once the semester was finished. because he’s actually started pulling his weight—he wants u to see him for someone who’s smart. satoru is actually rly rly smart and no one knows it because he doesn’t rly show it but he is. he wants u to see that side of him—somehow there’s some sick validation he rly needs from you knowing he’s not a dense frat guy who drinks and fucks until 3 am every night. so he starts doing his parts and actually communicates with u about sections. so starts ur texting routine—sometimes a little longer than u rly need to for just doing a lab together. sometimes it’s “did u hear ab that girl in our class getting dumped in front of the kfc ??” and sometimes it’s “god our prof rly needs to get some pussy” and other times it’s “look what the guy who sits behind us just posted on his story” and it leads to a few long convos that admittedly…are rly fun. ur so fun. he likes it. he rly does like u and he thinks maybe….maybe he’s grown on u too and you know what ?? satoru’s always a jerk but ur nice and who’s to say he can’t be nice too ?? just for one person. for u, he can be a nice guy—u carried lab all on ur own long enough that u deserve it anyway.

until he gets swayed in that way only a coward can. in that way you do when ur used to being “the man” around ur friends and ur too pressured to keep up that energy for appearances sake bc u don’t wanna be the laughing stock who softened up for “some nerdy chick who’s a nobody.” so he laughs when they laugh at the fact that ur probably “still a virgin who’s never touched a guy before” and then they’re patting gojo on the back and shoving at his shoulder as they laugh harder and suggest that “y’know what would be so funny man ?? if u took her virginity. you could probably do it.”

the thought is sickening because…satoru wouldn’t want to fuck you like that. god, you have him caring about when and how he fucks you—in fact, just thinking about you lewdly makes him feel guilty. disrespectful, even. you’re more than a fleshlight for his dick. since when did he become so respectful ?? but he doesn’t know how to say no, especially when everyone starts agreeing one after the other—and oh no, now they’re betting on how quickly he can do it….and oh, now it’s not just fucking. now it’s “how long until you think she’s head over heels for you? man, that would be a sight, huh ??”

and….well, satoru decides it couldn’t hurt, right ?? he does want to be romantically involved so that would include you being head over heels. hopefully. fingers crossed. and he doesn’t rly want to seem lame in front of the guys either, so he gets to keep both sides of the coin, so is it really that bad ?? maybe not the right idea but certainly the right execution. he’ll treat you well—that much he’s confident of. so he forces out a laugh and says “gimme a month or two, you’ll see.”

and a month or two they give him. and a month or two it takes—but not for you to be head over heels. it’s him who’s utterly and completely obsessed and fallen head first and whatever else they say to describe love because wow. this must be what it is. this must be that stupid fairytale shit they always talk about because fuck, no one has ever looked at him like that. like he’s some miracle to this earth and some wonder only you know of—like you hope it stays that way and that he’s yours and yours alone and no one else comes in to take him away. satoru really likes being yours, it kinda feels better than you being his. being yours means you hold him like that at night and wake him up to a kiss between his brows and sometimes, when he gets those migraines he’s prone to getting, you always seem to know. always seem to understand when to close the blinds and keep quiet and wrap him up in the covers as you rub your thumbs over his temples soothingly.

he almost forgets about that silly little bet he made two months ago when he’s around you. actually, he forgets everything when he’s around you. he’s only ever thinking about you, you, you. when he comes back to his frat house, on the other hand, they’re all gathered around waiting for the newest details. how you must’ve been so pathetically star struck by him. how you must be embarrassingly bad at kissing. how you must stutter over every other word around him. how you must be making a complete and utter fool of urself trying to impress him and be someone you’re not bc the real you would never pique his interest.

they’re wrong ofc. if anyone’s star struck, it’s satoru bc how the hell are u so…cool ?? and so funny and witty and carefree ?? and you’re good at kissing—have him chasing your lips with a whine every time. sometimes you even chuckle at him when he does and make him blush a bit. he’s the one who stutters over his words when he sees you in your little date night outfits. sometimes he watches you drink from your straw and his brain short circuits a little until you snap at him and ask him in confusion if he’s alright. but the real kicker ?? it’s that if anyone’s pretending, it’s satoru. you’re always just you—unapologetically so, that it’s endearing and beautiful and so unearthly he wonders how he got so lucky. but him ?? he’s always acting like some guy he’s not. some chivalrous guy who opens doors and pushes out seats and kisses the back of hands and waits at least a few dates before even considering fucking. some nice, sweet, genuine guy who’s deserving.

he’s not that—never was. if you knew the real him, you’d leave in a heartbeat. it’s a scary thought. a raw feeling he doesn’t like. makes him feel all self conscious and insecure and all that weird shit he never thought he’d feel.

he tries. so hard, he tries to make them forget about that silly little bet and just slowly drop it and maybe even forget ur dating so he can just stay living this peaceful little fantasy with you—but that’s stupid. that’s naive. it’s been 4 months and enough is enough—the guys need to see the look on ur face when u realize what a fool ur being and satoru is “being a lazy ass who’s too comfortable not having for work for pussy these days.” so then there’s a video going around. it’s everyone gathered around on the couch drunk and talking about you. and satoru. you both, in fact. how it’s been two months and u seem desperate for his attention with the shrill little voice you use to call him toru, baby! it’s so, so fucking embarrassing, they say. how you think he likes it. (he does. god he does so much, it hurts. he loves it, actually, when you call him that. makes him feel special in a way he never has.) but then, the worst, most disgustingly nauseous part of the whole thing is when satoru laughs along and plays into their awful words. just lets them talk about you like you’re some piece of meat. something for him to chew up and spit out after he has a taste or you. not even worth savoring and enjoying. he laughs along and agrees—you’re nothing special and he can’t wait until he’s free of you.

that part hurts. that part sucks the most—when he acts like he didn’t tremble under your touch every time you kissed him. like he didn’t beg you to stay just five more minutes! before walking out the door to go home. he acts one way in front of you and one way in front of them and what’s worse ?? you don’t know which one is real. couldn’t tell even if your life was on the line to decide. because there’s no way he’s that good at pretending to be desperately in love, no fucking way. but there’s also no way he can be in love if he’s talking about you like that. that’s not what love is—that’s not what love feels like. that’s not what it means to someone.

you don’t know which satoru is the real one, but you know that neither is worth your time. not if he can’t stick to it.

it’s terrible thing—the way you break up. it’s messy and teary and he’s begging, he’s actually begging. he never thought he’d do that. but he doesn’t even hesitate to plead for you to hear him out. baby, please let me explain. wait, please don’t walk away—please just listen! i can explain.

he can’t explain, though when you as him to. stands there with a bitten bottom lip and teary eyes that are pleading you to just stay with him. to overlook this and just … ignore it like it’s nothing. like what he did and said was just nothing and you can shrug it off like you’re nothing too. like your feelings are nothing and so is your worth and that’s why you should just ignore the way he absolutely destroyed your pride and reputation and dignity and worse….every ounce of your love.

such deep, raw, pure love—it’s almost enough to heal every dry crack and crevice of this earth and bring it back to life.

you look at him with teary eyes and something so broken, it makes him feel like dirt beneath your feet.

“it’s embarrassing, satoru,” you hiss that night through tears, “you’re in your twenties getting a degree and you’re still just a high school bully. life’s really gonna kick you in the ass some day.”

life’s already kicking him in the ass as soon as you walk out. the air is colder. the world is dimmer. food doesn’t taste as good and fuck—there is just so much loneliness when you have no one to be yourself with. when there’s no you.

but he supposes you’re right though—he is just a bully. it’s pathetic, really. and maybe it’s for the best. maybe you don’t deserve someone who’s only ever known how to feel good because someone else doesn’t.

#bye #this is so obnoxiously long for a silly little jumble of thoughts #maybe i’ll flesh it out and make it an actual fic tho #bully! gojo tag

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shy-writer-999 · 19 days ago

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Subby Ace + aphrodisiacs: your top turned bottom!

Summary: Poor Ace has gotten into something with sex pollen in it. He's a mess and you're the only person who can help him. There's something delightful about seeing your very dominant boyfriend reduced to begging, whining, and even crying for a crumb of your pleasure. CW: straight up SMUT. very very pathetic needy filthy whiny ace. afab reader w/gendered language ('princess'); sex, edging, masturbation, blow job, hand job, dacryphilia, overstimulation, you name it. countless orgasms from ace, use of 'good boy' and 'pretty boy.' minors do not interact - nsfw content!

Ace is so dramatic and sensitive in bed. It gets worse when he goes on an outing by himself, and just so happens to get exposed to some form of sex pollen. He staggers back to the ship and comes straight to you.

He just won’t stop cumming. He can’t stop cumming.

His face is twisted up in anguish and he’s frowning, genuinely so miserable you think he’s about to cry.

“Baby, please help me, I’m going crazy.”

His erection looks bigger than usual—you didn’t think that was possible, and for a split second you’re worried that it won’t fit at all. But of course it will. It has fit countless times before.

“I need you. I’m begging you, sweetheart, please.” He frowns and does puppy dog eyes at you. Your heart melts, but you have to set him straight.

“Ace,” you tut. “You don’t ever need to beg for me.”

“Can I, though?” He smiles back, and it looks like a bit of a grimace.

“I’ll allow it. But you have to do what I say, okay?”

Ace nods. “Of course.” He’s thrilled at the idea of you being in control.

You sit down on the bed next to him and rest a hand on his thigh. He flinches.

“Fuck.” You can see his cock jump through the fabric of his underwear.

A simple hand on his skin like this is enough to make him squirm? It’s going to be a fun night. He looks pathetic and miserable right now. His brows are bent at the middle and he’s doing the cutest, saddest little pout you’ve ever seen.

“Touch me more, beautiful,” he murmurs and closes his eyes, mouth hanging open in concentration. His mind is fixated how your cool skin feels against his, how soft your hand is, how close you are to his throbbing hard on.

Your fingers wander over his skin, conjuring goosebumps and shudders, eliciting whimpering sounds from Ace’s pretty lips. The whimpers quickly turn into muted sounds of pleasure.

Precum seeps through the fabric of his underwear and you pity him, reaching your fingers upwards to pull the waistband down. When his cock springs out, sure enough, it’s bigger than usual, a fact which is both troubling and tantalizing.

The tip of his long shaft is red, inflamed, and defined. It glistens in the light from the dim lamp in the corner of his cabin, highlighting the precum that smears his head and continues to seep out—it’s a ridiculous amount of precum. You’ve never seen this much before.

You take a moment to admire him. Your eyes wander from his erection to his defined abs and dark, thin happy trail. Your eyes meet his. His pupils are huge and there’s a visible sheen of sweat on his forehead that mats down the hair around his temples.

Ace is trying not to be impatient, but it’s hard because his body is screaming for attention.

“Please, princess. Use me. Do anything you want to me.” His voice comes out as a whisper, tinted in reverence, and bathed in lust.

When you hum in reply, you stand up, slipping off your underwear and bra. He scoots back onto the pillows and his thighs widen while you get on top of him. Your lower yourself down to sit on top of his erection. You don’t fuck him yet, though. You just lay his shaft flat on your core and stay there for a second.

Some teasing couldn’t hurt. So, you slowly start to roll your hips, rubbing yourself on Ace’s wet shaft. It’s starting to get you worked up, too, and before you know it, you’re soaking wet.

Gasp after gasp tumbles out of his mouth and no less than thirty seconds later, he starts to seize up below you, cumming on his lower abdomen. His breaths are shallow and ragged, and he’s lying there panting.

“Don’t stop,” he chokes out, again begging for something he knows he’ll get if he only waits patiently. “Please don’t stop.”

“Poor thing.” You lean down and kiss him. Even the mere feeling of your lips on his makes him let out the softest groan. He feels like his whole body is on fire, but it’s in a way he’s never felt before, different from the logia fire he’s so accustomed to.

His kisses quickly turn greedy and sloppy, and every drag of your aching core over his cock makes him let out repressed puffs of air in your mouth. Soon, he’s moaning straight into your mouth.

God, he’s so worked up it’s starting to be more fun than you imagined.

Lining up his sticky wet tip with your entrance, you finally start to sink down onto his cock, going deliberately slow so he doesn’t cum again (yet). But when he bottoms out, his hips buck up inadvertently, hitting your gooey hot spot inside.

“F-fuck, fuck,” Ace groans again. “Feels, ah, feels so good.”

He’s practically keening at this point, back almost arching off the bed, fingers digging into the skin of your hips.

You start to ride him slowly. Whatever way feels best. Sometimes you pull yourself up his shaft so only the tip is inside and plunge it back in, other times you keep him inside of you and grind your hips back and forth. One moment, you brace your hands on his chest for more leverage; the next moment, you lean in and kiss his neck, leaving love bites in a trail from his neck to his shoulder. The contact draws out a body-wracking moan from the dark-haired man beneath you—the sounds he’s making are delicious.

He cums aggressively again, hips jerking upwards. Each press of his cock up hits your g-spot and when he feels your body shift in response it drives him crazier.

Ace’s fingers are pulling you downwards, pushing himself deeper inside of you.

“Need more,” he chokes out.

When your legs start to burn, he does all the work for you. Muscly, rough hands come under your thighs, moving you effortlessly up and down until you’re the one cumming, writhing in ecstasy on top of him.

But Ace still doesn’t want to stop. “Keep going, please.”

He has the habit of saying please in bed. It’s endearing. When he asks so nicely, it’s hard to say no.

So, your hips move more. And more. And more. Until they’re numb and he’s fucking you stupid.

You’ve collapsed on top of him now, mewling in his neck from each thrust. “C’mon baby, give me another.” You murmur in his ear, voice seductive and honeyed. It’s all he needs to hear before he literally cums on command.

He’s usually an animal in bed. Buy boy, whatever sex pollen or aphrodisiac he ran into today is doing a number on him. You, very obviously, have no issue with it.

Feral sounds escape his lips while Ace pumps more of his hot seed inside. It’s seeping out of you, creeping down the sides of his body, and saturating the fabric of the bedspread below him. It’s going to leave a massive, milky-white stain. And he isn’t done yet.

“Keep going,” he looks absolutely pathetic. “Please, please, I—I’m going crazy.” He can barely get the words out, so pussydrunk and out of it that he’s on the verge of drooling.

You smile and kiss him on the cheek. “Missionary. But you’re going to go nice and slow, okay?”

Ace nods vigorously in return. He repositions. One of his warm hands is on your waist now, while the other gropes upwards to massage and caress your chest.

He takes his time, just like you told him. From this angle, you can see his face more—and it’s glistening, evidently he’s been crying. He’s been crying because of how good it feels. Something about the idea is wildly erotic. He wants pleasure so badly that he’s begging and crying over it, literal tears from those pretty brown eyes.

Every orgasm feels better than the last. He shoots more seed inside of you again, quickly, almost immediately upon entering you. But there’s a rebound period before his second orgasm where you decide to be a bit cruel.

“Slower, Ace.”

He complies, hips shaking, moving centimeters at a time. There’s so much cum inside of you that it’s almost sloshing out, squelching so loud you’re thankful no one is around to hear. His eyes are glued to where the cum seeps out of you, drinking up the sight of his cock disappearing inside of you with every pass.

Gravelly, obscene groans tumble out from him every second—it’s almost a constant stream.

“Wanna go faster,” he rasps, eyes snapping up to yours. You see more tears gathering on his lash line.

“Not yet, baby. Be a good boy and wait for it, okay?”

When he hears you call him that—good boy—a strangled sounding gasp erupts from his lips and his hips shudder. “Fuuuuhhhccckkk.”

Desperate, heaving breaths accompany his extreme efforts. He’s trying not to cum, trying not to buck and rut haphazardly and mindlessly into your cunt like some animal in heat.

A couple more moments of agonizing slowness pass. When you’ve decided he’s behaved, and when you’re similarly desperate enough, you give him the go ahead.

“Faster.”

His hips snap into action and he’s cumming again within a couple seconds. It’s amazing that he still has cum to give, that he’s not completely shooting blanks at this point, that he hasn’t drained his balls completely yet. But, surely, he’ll get there.

“Mmmpppphhhh,” he moans, deafeningly loud. “Ah, ah, fuck, f-feels so good, fuck.”

“Keep going, ‘m close,” you keen his name and his hips pick up the pace. Each time his cock pushes on your sweet spot it makes you see stars. You’re getting close and he’s getting overstimulated.

When you cum again the pleasure is white-hot and euphoric, buzzing every nerve in your body. Ace does the same—he’s too sensitive, can’t handle the feeling of your walls squeezing and milking him for long before he’s careening into his own wave of euphoria.

He slows down and starts to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. He’s sweaty and his body is hot. Looks like the sex pollen is making his devil fruit powers a bit harder to control.

“You want some more, handsome?” You ask, and he nods eagerly. When you move from underneath him, you ask him to lay on his back. Rifling through a bedside drawer, you bring out your vibrator. You usually keep it in his cabin because that’s where you get the most use out of it. But today, instead of using it on yourself, you’re going to try something new.

While you’re grabbing the toy, Ace reaches a hand down to start touching himself but you tell him to knock it off.

“You need to sit there and be good for me. Don’t touch yourself and don’t cum unless I say so, okay?”

When he hears your stern tone, Ace puts his hands behind his head, and peers down to see what happens next. It’s hard for him to stay still, but he tries his very best.

Situating yourself between his thick thighs, you turn the vibrator on and bring it to the head of Ace’s cock. He almost immediately starts to seize up. He’s going to cum again. But where would the fun be if you just let him?

You take the vibrator away and frown. “Do I need to tell you again? Don’t cum until I say so, sweetheart.”

He pouts and nods. You bring the vibrator back and put it on the lowest setting setting. He’s hardly holding on as is, but when you turn the vibrator’s speed up, he starts to writhe in pleasure.

“’m close,” he whines, biting his lip.

You take the vibrator off again, met with a strangled sounding cry of frustration from Ace. He takes a few minutes to cool back down until he’s ready for you to start again.

Twenty, no, thirty minutes pass like this until he’s on the verge of tears again. When you finally let him have it, he asks so nicely. It’s not like he hasn’t been asking nicely before, but this time his voice cracks and you can see the tears in his lash line.

“C-can I please, please cum?” He’s being so sweet and needy. It’s crazy to think this is the strong, courageous man who has protected you countless times. Reduced to a sniveling mess, asking for another orgasm.

You say yes. He’s being so polite, so why not?

After this orgasm, he’s almost ready to tap out. He can use his safe word, obviously but… he really doesn’t want to. It feels too good. He’ll keep going for as long as he physically can.

“You still have another couple to give me, right? Don’t you want to be good for me and keep going?” You say, looking up from between his thighs. The tip of his cock is inflamed from the relentless vibrating, and his abdomen is coated in a sheen of his own cum. He’s at the point where he doesn’t care about anything, fucked-out with his mind empty.

When he nods his head mindlessly, you take your turn. You sink down on his cock (again) and ride him for as long as it takes you to orgasm. For the record, it doesn’t take long, but Ace has lost track of time.

He’s being louder than usual. Every few seconds he lets out some form of a whine, a whimper, a “fuck,” a “please,” or a “’s too much.” His cheeks are bright red, accentuating those cute freckles, and his eyes are half-lidded. He’s so handsome it makes your stomach flip. He’s falling apart with minimal effort, and he’s all hands, too. He grabs handfuls of the plush skin of your hips and ass, kneading and getting himself more wound up.

Ace cums once while you’re working up to your own orgasm, then again when you’re cumming on his cock, and then a third time, when you pull yourself off his length and wrap a hand around his shaft. Every time he cums, you encourage and praise him. It drives him crazier.

“There’s a good boy,” you say. “Keep going for me. Don’t stop.”

You talk dirty to him while you give him one very long hand job. He eats it up, loves the idea of you speaking filth to nobody but him. Before you started seeing each other, he couldn’t imagine you had this sort of mouth on you—not in his wildest dreams. It’s his delight every time you’re in bed that you feel comfortable enough with him to talk like this.

“You’re just too sweet I can’t stop Ace,” your voice oozes in desire. “And you’re being so good for me.”

“’s good?” He slurs, holding your eye contact as much as he can manage.

“Mmmhm. Tell me what it feels like. Use your words, okay?”

His eyes flutter and his voice comes out as a whisper. “So good. F-feels so fucking good.”

You coo in his ear and bite his earlobe softly. “Don’t I always make you feel so good?” He nods in a silent reply, rocking his hips up to fuck himself with your fist.

As you milk more cum from him, he reaches a hand up—you initially think he’s going for your chest, but his hand falls on your cheek and he attempts to pull you into a kiss. He’s a bit weak in his current state, so you oblige him by leaning in.

It’s just gut-wrenchingly cute of him to be fucked dumb like this and still want to get kisses from you. He’s just thanking his lucky stars that you, of all people, is who he ended up with.

While you explore his mouth with your tongue, and cup his face with your free hand, his heart feels like it’s going to burst.

He cums again. The fact that he still has cum to give is preposterous in itself. You’ve lost track of time at this point, too.

You make him eat you out and he’s (understandingly) sloppy with it. His hot mouth feels just right on your core, and he pays just enough attention to your clit. Feeling you pull on his hair makes him feel more aroused than he thought possible.

So, he’s ready to fuck you again. He goes for another round in missionary, then puts you into a mating press. Afterwards, he gets tuckered out and you figure that he has one good one left in him, or, rather, he probably has more to give but he really should give it a rest after that. It would be way too cruel to make him keep going after this one, right? You’ll decide the answer to this question after he cums for you again.

“One more, Ace,” you pet his ruffled up hair and grace him with kisses. “You can do that for me, can’t you, pretty boy?”

He nods obediently.

“There you go,” you purr and start to trace your lips down his abdomen, licking up a small portion of the very large mess he’s made on himself.

His eyes widen as he realizes he’s about to get one of his very favorite things—a blowjob from none other than yourself.

He lifts his head up and watches in awe as you lick a long stripe up his shaft and then take him whole, hollowing your cheeks before you start to suck him off. You’re gentle at first, until he starts moaning louder, then you figure fuck it, he can cum. You let him off easy this time. He’s just been so good for you.

When you look up from your position between his legs, you make eye contact, nod, and then hum. It sends him over the edge. Ace’s fingers snake into your hair and he holds your head down as he cums down your throat.

“C-cumming, ‘m cumming, ah, fuck, fuhhhcckkk that feels good,” his groans are harsh and loud.

He’s so sweet afterwards that it’s heart melting. You know that he must be tired, but he doesn’t act the part. Not when you’ve been so good to him, when you’ve praised him, taken your time with him, coddled and kissed him. It almost makes you feel guilty how affectionate he is.

Pulling into you a long, tender kiss, he so sweetly says, “fuck, you’re perfect. I can’t believe someone like me gets to be with someone like you.”

You cup his cheeks and tell him to cut it out. Of course someone like him gets to be with someone like you. He’s perfect, after all. You cuddle him in bed for a while before he, again, very politely, asks if you’d help clean him up. He’s positively covered in cum and doesn’t want to stain anything else more than he already has. Seems like this is another pair of bedsheets that can be considered properly soiled. Not like that will stop you from doing the same thing in the future.

Now, where did he come across that sex pollen again?

this style of writing for me (when i just write straight up smut with no plot) is akin to a sort of slop. i am the lunch lady handing out scoops of questionable and most likely unsatisfying mush BUT sometimes on a good day it is delicious... i can only hope the slop today did not disappoint... >_> cant say this one is my absolute fave so apologies if it's trash T-T but i love the idea of him being so whiny like this..!!

check out my masterlist and also the best piece i've written on ace so far, if you liked this one!

dividers by @cafekitsune

taglist @eggrollforyou

#very proud of the ace collage i made #HUZZAH for calling ace a pretty boy #i would do sinful heinous filthy things to this man if i could #portgas d ace smut #portgas ace smut #one piece smut #portgas d ace x you #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace x y/n #op ace x reader #ace x you #ace x reader

642 notes · View notes

leclercsainzz · 8 months ago

Note

Can I request a reader x wolff one please? where reader and non f1 male were the ultimate couple, so it came as a shock when they broke up. With many people being sad about their split, since they seemed perfect for each other. However recent rumors have surfaced that maybe she might be seeing toto, which causes quite a stir among fans, who are now speculating about the potential new relationship?

NEW ROMANTICS

PARINGS: toto wolff x fem!reader

TYPE: social media au

yourusername

liked by jaredpadalecki, lewishamilton and 567,738 others

yourusername: @vanityfair oscar date night

view 4,748 comments

genpadalecki: 😍 stunning as always!

↳ yourusername: i love youuu 😘

user: can jensen fight?!??

user: MOTHER OMG

user: where’s jen?

user: stunning 😍

user: she does NOT age, i swear 😩

misha: 😃

↳ user: castiel energy frr

user: did jensen go with her??!?

user: mom where’s dad?!???

user: she’s soooo mother, omgg 😍

user: @jensenackles can you fight, bro?

user: lewis, what are you doing here?!?? 👀

user: the definition of MOTHER

user: has anyone noticed jensen hasn’t liked/comment?

↳ user: what are you insinuating??!? 🙄

↳ user: haven’t seen them together for quite a while, actually

↳ user: obviously they won’t be out in public 24/7

user: kindly step on me 😩

user: did her and jensen break up or something?!? 😭😭

user: anyone else noticed the mercedes boys in the likes?

user: 😍😍 gorgeous!

user: jensen’s one lucky ass mf 😩

user: waiting for jensen’s comment and like

user: ATE and left NO CRUMBS

sofiavergara: 😍 wow

user: mother is mothering 😍

user: why are ppl saying her and dad are broken up?!!?

user: 😍😍😍😍 goddess

jensenackles

liked by jaredpadalecki, misha and 788,825 others

jensenackles: a little bts of yesterday’s photo shoot

view 5,736 comments

user: the man that you are, oml 😮‍💨

user: the fact that yn’s getting this everyday 😭😭

user: they’re still together right?!!??

jaredpadecki: 😘

user: so fine

user: apparently he might be single again sooooo 😏

user: he’s fine and he knows it

user: WHAT A MAN 😍😍

↳ user: indeed 😩

user: are yn and jensen still together?!??!??

↳ user: of course, why wouldn’t they be?!?

↳ user: there’s been rumors going on about them breaking up

↳ user: they better not be true 😭 wtf

user: why are people saying jensen and yn broke up??!?

user: father of my kids (im kidding) (im not)

user: aged like fine wineeeee 😮‍💨

↳ user: he gets sexier each year 😍

user: SEXIEST MAN ALIVE

user: @yourusername is so luckyyy

↳ user: supposedly, they broke up 🤷🏻‍♀️

↳ user: sAy SIKE RN

user: how can i get his attention? 😩

user: another day another slay

user: finest man ever 🥵

user: that’s my dean winchester

user: i need to know if mom and dad are still together or not

↳ user: girl, frrr 😭😭 it’s been weeks

user: where’s yn??!?? she hasn’t liked nor commented 🤨

user: sirrrrrr 😍

user: so sexyyyy of him

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, evalongoria and 600,839 others

yourusername: life lately

view 5,746 comments

user: YN A MERCEDES FAN?!!??!???

| liked by yourusername

user: is thAt toto wolff?!??

user: gorgeous 😍

user: missing dad hours 😓

↳ user: we’re ALL going through it right now:’(

user: mercedes?! lewis liking all her post?!? tell me u all see it?

↳ user: we all see it, i assure you 👀

genpadalecki: gorgg 😍

↳ yourusername: ❤️

mercedesamgf1: thanks for coming, pretty lady 😘

↳ user: ADMIN?!!??? WHAT IS THIS?!!?

↳ user: lewis is definitely behind all this, i just know it

user: WHERE’S JENSEN???? 😭😭😭

user: lewis is great and all but jensen?!!?!?

user: can we talk about toto’s back? 😩

↳ user: she really got the best angle

user: who got you smiling like that? 🤨

user: the most beautiful woman ever, i swear

ruthie_connell: 😍😍😍 beautiful!

user: get back with jensen, please 🙏🏼

user: please tell me you’re dining with dad in the 5th slide

user: your beauty is unreal 😩

user: wait— who’s lewis?!!?

↳ user: formula one driver

↳ user: 8x world champion

↳ user: 7* but okay 🙄

user: mother 😍

user: yn being a mercedes fan is everything to me

user: mad i didn’t see her at the race 😭😭

yourusername

liked by realmarksheppard, pierregasly and 679,738 others

yourusername: 💗

tagged: @genpadalecki

view 4,846 comments

user: tHAT DOES NOT LOOK LIKE LEWIS?

user: who is that?!??

jaredpadalecki: @genpadalecki 😍

↳ yourusername: our wife’s gorgeous, isn’t she, moose?

↳ user: nOt moose 😭

user: that ain’t lewis?!??

user: i’m just going to pretend that’s jensen for my sake

user: missing jensen:((((

user: her friendship with gen is everything

user: gen and yn are the female version of sam and dean

feliciadays: beautiful ladies 😍

user: and everyone thought it was that hamilton guy LMAO

user: still not over her and jensen 😭😭 they were perfect

user: MOM, WE WANT DAD BACK 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

user: anyone else think that looks like toto wolff??

↳ user: tHat’s what i Said!

misha: thanks for the invite btw 🙂

lewishamilton: 👀

↳ user: sIR, wHAT DO YOU KNOW?!??!?

↳ user: mind sharing with us??

carmenmmundt: 😍😍😍 gorggg

user: IS SHE DATING TOTO?!!?!????

user: lewis AND george liked? 👀

↳ user: even gasly’s nosy ass liked

↳ user: that’s why his forehead so big 😭 he knows it allllll

user: her side profile, omg 😍😍

user: he definitely screams toto wolff

user: idk who this wolff guy is but i want jensen back

user: her and jensen were supposed to be endgame 😭😭

user: ngl but her and toto would definitely make a cute couple

user: i love how everyone just assumes she’s with toto now

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, sofiavergara and 687,863 others

yourusername: ft a small photo dump

view 6,527 comments

user: THAT BACK LOOKS SO FAMILIAR

user: tHat’s TOTO OMG

user: toto?!?!?? 😮

genpadalecki: my loveeee 😍

↳ yourusername: 😘 love yaaa, girlfriend

user: oooh to be yn

user: ynjensen is really over 😞😞

user: toto, that’s a nice back you’ve got;)

user: toto’s one lucky mf

user: I MISS JENSEN 😭😭😭

user: yn, babe, this ain’t you, get back with dad

user: that’s a hot back

user: lordddddddd 😍

user: TOTO?!!??

user: mother 😍

user: IS THAT TOTO, OMG?!??

↳ user: yessss

lewishamilton: 👀

user: ariana (lewis) what are you doing here?

georgerussell63: nice back there, mate

comment has been deleted

user: we saw thAt comment george

user: toto is so fine omg 😩

user: my man is so fine

user: her side profile is everything

user: oNE CHANCE, YN, PLEASE 🙏🏼

user: toto’s soo lucky huh? 😭😭

user: did anyone else see george’s comment?!?!?

↳ user: what comment???

user: MOM MOM MOM MOM

user: you cannot tell me that isn’t toto

user: his back bro 🥵

user: what about jensen???? 😭😭😭

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, pierregasly and 678,629 others

yourusername: life lately <33

view 6,510 comments

user: “life lately” and post THE TOTO WOLFF?!! 😮

user: bitcH OMG

user: yn pulls the hottest men ever 😩

↳ user: nah frr — first jensen now toto??

user: idk if i want to be yn or be with her

user: can i be your sugar baby?

mercedesamgf1: finest couple ever! 😮‍💨

↳ user: admin— you’re so real for this omg

↳ user: admin knows what’s up

user: can toto fight?

↳ user: can’t fight for a championship that’s for sure

mercedesamgf1: the boss says you’re gorgeous

↳ user: GIVE THIS PERSON A RAISE FOR THEIR HARD WORK

genpadalecki: wifeee 😍

↳ yourusername: love yaaaaa 🫦

user: nooo, i miss jensen 😭😭

user: i KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT

user: okay but how did toto bag her??? like come on

user: gorgeous ladyyy 😍

ruthie_connell: 😍😍😍

user: nOt pierre being in the likes

↳ user: loves the gossip lmao

jensenackles: @misha @jaredpadalecki told you

↳ user: DAD?!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!!

↳ user: told them what?!!?

↳ yourusername: 😭 leave me alone, i love my chocolate

↳ jaredpadalecki: it’s always the chocolate

↳ genpadecki: chocolate is addicting okay

user: JENSEN COMMENTED?!???

↳ user: glad to know they ended on good terms 😩

user: yn, you’re sooo gorgeous

user: the woman that you are, omggg 😍

user: mother frrr

user: they make such a hot couple

user: yntoto 😮‍💨

user: i just need to know you and jensen are still friends

↳ yourusername: always <3

lewishamilton: gorgeous - toto wolff

lewishamilton: i don’t have instagram - toto wolff

↳ yourusername: text me, love 😘

↳ user: please this is so cute

user: nOt the sign off by toto himself 😭😭

christianhorner: 🫡

2K notes · View notes

wonderjanga · 2 months ago

Text

Perch-Man

Captain Marvel is tall. Extremely tall. A whopping eight feet and five inches tall. He’s a good head taller than most. He didn’t realize how much of a human jungle gym this made him to the younger heroes who like to hang off him like monkeys. Like, all of the Robins have at some point done this. That included the current one who continued this tradition on their first meeting.

Robin!Damian: *cranes his neck to look up at Marvel* “I detest your height.”

Marvel: *feels bad* “Sorry… Do you wanna come up here and have that height too?”

Robin!Damian: “I’ll grow into being tall on my own. I have no need for your help.”

Five minutes later…

Marvel: “You like the view from up there?”

Robin!Damian: “…Yes.” *is on Marvel’s shoulders with a death grip on Marvel’s hair*

Eventually after a bit of walking, Marvel somehow convinced Damian that he was like the chef kid from Ratatouille and that he could be steered and controlled whenever Dami pulled his hair in a certain way. This led to Robin using this newfound height and control to literally look down on others just because he could.

Speaking of Damian, his father also perches on Marvel.

Marvel: *walks past Flash with Batman perched on his shoulder*

Flash: “Hey, Cap. Hey, B-” *does a double take when he sees that*

Marvel: *keeps walking like nothings wrong*

Batman: *doesn’t even notice Flash because he’s doing something on a tablet* “Hey, chum.” *pats Marvel’s head to get his attention without sparing a glance*

Marvel: “Yes?”

Batman: “Take me to the monitor room.”

Marvel: “Okay!”

That was how Flash found out that Marvel would willingly let grown ass adult men sit on his shoulders. Naturally, he took advantage of this.

Marvel: “Guys, I don’t think this is a good idea.” *has GL on one shoulder and Flash on the other*

GL: “Sure it is. Now onward!” *points*

Marvel: *starts running while silently praying neither of them falls off*

Halfway through the run, Hal, in fact, fell off and face planted. They did this again after he floated back onto Marvel’s shoulder only this time Barry fell. The third time they tried this, Martian Manhunter (MM) stopped them.

An hour later…

Marvel: *sitting and watching tv in a rec room*

MM: *sitting on Marvel’s head, emphasis on head, and eating Oreos*

J’onn was getting crumbs in Billy’s hair but Billy didn’t have the heart to tell him because he didn’t want him to leave.

#billy batson #shazam #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #fawcett city #fawcett #fawcett comics #martian manhunter #j’onn j’onzz

828 notes · View notes

pseudowho · 8 months ago

Note

okay here’s me getting all cocky and confident because you answered my ask once (ily for that seriously i think i screamed and fainted and sobbed and climbed up the walls a little) and once again asking you for….. for crumbs………. so my horny self was sitting and thinking…………… nanami sees you reading absolute filth and porn and you end up in biig trouble.. (i.e him doing that exact thing to you 😭) or perhaps you going up to nanami after reading absolute filth and being all needy with him bcs that straight porn made you a liittle…….. yk… 🌚🌚🌚

anyways i literally love you and ur my favorite writer ever and im gonna stop now before i burst

SMUT [smuht] (noun)

In which Nanami Kento catches you reading dirty literature...and punishes you with a performative reading.

Warnings: The anon who keeps targeting me like this needs a warning label...but otherwise: roleplay, erotic literature (*laughs and laughs in Tumblr*) being read to you while you're systematically destroyed, performative Bad!Nanami, Kento fucks you wearing a mask and leather gloves, Pleasure Dom!Kento who gets lost in the sauce, reader way out of her depth, bondage, the usual spicy goodness, couple of cheeky movie references

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

The one she knew only as the Man in the Mask swept over to her, delighting in her capture, having evaded him for so long.

"Ahhh..." he sighed, his breath sweeping over the swell of her breasts, and sending shivers down her spine. "Finally...the little mouse who has wreaked havoc on my dreams for too many lonely nights. How does it feel? To be trapped here with me like this?"

Her heart stalled in her chest, and she gasped, his grazing touch to her belly leaving embers in its wake. The Man in the Mask saw her nipples pebble beneath her shirt, and felt something snap inside him as he loomed over her with a whisper; "I know. I feel it too."

With little warning, he lowered his barely covered mouth to her neck, hungry against her, and--

The door opened, and you leapt out of your skin, dropping your phone to the floor. You sat bolt upright in bed, your other hand coming up guiltily from beneath the covers as Kento leaned into the bedroom to greet you. You interrupted him.

"You're home early," you said, offering an unconvincing smile. Kento looked at you, flatly. He let the statement hang for a moment. His shrewd eyes flicked, taking in the glossy subtleties he saw from you only in foreplay.

"...well I thought you'd be pleased, but I'll just go back then shall I--"

You hesitated, words caught in your throat. Your eyes flickered to your phone. So did Kento's. His eyes narrowed.

"...what are you read--"

"Nothing! It's nothing." You lied, unconvincing. You both hesitated for a moment more, before Kento darted. You cursed at him for being faster than you, and Kento's fingers closed around your phone, sitting beside you on the bed in one swift movement. You smothered a pillow over your face, screaming silently, wanting the duvet to grow great maws and swallow you whole.

Kento read silently for a moment, scrolling, before reading aloud; "...she didn't want to fight anymore, as his fingers slid between her puffy lips...goodness me...his cock strained against the fabric of his clothes, begging for attention...I bet it did..."

You had begun to crawl away down the bed, just a maggot, unworthy of the sun and all its glories.

You felt a hand clasp around your ankle, and you squeaked as Kento dragged you back up the bed, without even taking his eyes off your phone.

"I don't think so, where are you going--"

"--oh god Kento just give me something for the cringe and let me die--"

"--no no no I'm blessed to be a part of my wife's interests--"

"--I am less than human, we need a divorce, I can't look you in the eye ever again--"

Kento scoffed, dark and derisive. "As if I'd let you divorce me. As if you'd even want to...now, where did I put that..."

Kento stood, still holding your phone as he rummaged in his dresser. You laid flat to the bed, trying to wiggle away again, still embarrassingly wet, your mortification laced with undeniable arousal.

"Stay exactly where you are, or I'll damn well make you."

You stopped. You looked up at Kento, unusually meek, as he approached you. He stood by the bed, looming and powerful, a god made flesh. He unbuttoned his shirt to the navel, not bothering to remove his harness. He undid his belt with a clink-clink. He let his tie hang loose...and pulled a black balaclava down to beneath his collar. He finished off with a pair of soft, black leather gloves.

Something imploded inside you; a dial-up noise in your mind. Kento prowled over to you, looming over you and chasing you up the bed, caging you beneath him, and reading through the smut on your phone screen.

"Be honest," Kento read aloud, his honey-brown eyes swirling with something altogether darker and more dangerous, "if you'd wanted to escape me...you could have."

You panted, breathless, your pupils blown into inky black as you lay splayed beneath Kento. You couldn't help but be captivated, lost in his insidious pull. You felt your heartbeat between your legs.

"Did you stay because you dream of me, too?" Kento intoned. You bit the poisoned apple, trembling as you nodded up at him. "Did you stay...because you wondered if hatred was as erotic a passion as love?"

"--Kento, I-- let me go, I--"

"That's the spirit." Laughed Kento, his voice booming through you, the vibrations crackling across every nerve, and you whimpered. Kento grasped your hands together with his own, gloved and powerful, pinning them above your head with the whole weight of his body. He pulled his tie loose with the hand holding your phone.

"I can't let you leave...not now. Fuck...you have no idea what you do to me, do you?" Kento growled. Being the villain seemed so effortless to him. Your safe word had never been further from your mind, your attempts to leave so paltry and insincere. The way Kento looked down at you, waiting to see if you would make him stop, sent shivers down your spine. Kento released his tie, eyes skimming across your phone for confirmation.

"I'd apologise, for trapping you here like this..." Kento intoned, tying your bound wrists to the head of the bed as you squirmed, crying out in anguish, "...but I'll show you...how you've craved my touch, just as I have craved yours." You strained against the bonds, in just the silky chemise you wore for bed, and it didn't take much for your breasts to fall free of the fine little straps.

In truth, Kento had never been harder in his life. Seeing you battle against primal desire beneath him, feeling your half-hearted embarrassed squirms brushing your bare mound against his aching, thick cock...and your nipples, hard as diamonds and covered by a thin veneer of lace. His breaths were heavy, chest heaving as he continued his performative reading.

"Just one taste, and we can return to how it was before." Kento groaned, his mouth suckling at your neck, licking, tasting, biting. You cringed against the assault on your senses, afraid to lose yourself to such diabolical pleasure. Kento pinned your bucking hips down with his own, the tip of his cock trapped beneath his waistband against his belly. "Just once...and we can rest easy at night, knowing how it feels for me to spend myself inside you."

You keened, mewling as Kento rested the phone on the pillow beside your head, and took your nipple into his mouth, ragging it around beneath his tongue with a fractured growl. Your head spun with the weight of him, totally captured, so wildly out of control. The suckling pleasure he gave to your nipples, connected in a fine thread to your clit, making it pulse with vicarious bliss.

"I can't...can't take it anymore...Ken--" You moaned, squeaking as his teeth closed in barely hinged warning around your breast.

"Unless it's to tell me to fuck you, I won't have you mewl like a kitten at me any longer." Kento rumbled against your breast, wet with his spit and the marks he left behind as he took what he was owed. "I hope you can take it. I'm...no small man. If you are ruined, after, I know you will bear the scars with grace, just as you have bore your hatred of me."

You were already so steeped in the hot rush of being pleasured, you did not notice how Kento's eyes glowered, lathering down your body and darting occasionally back to your phone. He continued his pilgrimage down your body. Kento growled in frustration at the chemise blocking him, and he rucked it up, spitting curses as you squeaked, wriggling against him.

"At least fight like you mean it." Kento laughed, and you blushed, eyes squeezed shut, mortified by how obviously faked your resistance was. Kento kissed his way down your belly, settling at your mound. He hovered, silent, giving your desperate clit nought but the breath from his lips.

"Do you want my fingers...or my mouth?" You whimpered again, babbling nonsense, such a rough and ruined heroine. Kento laughed again, dark and delicious, raising his mask just enough to free his mouth. "No words? No matter. You shall have both."

With little warning, Kento sunk his tongue between your folds, ragging his mouth and nose from side to side again to bury himself in the heat of you. You cried out as he growled into your heat, hitting a high note as he sunk two thick, gloved fingers into your fluttering pussy, slamming inside all the way to his knuckles.

Kento swore against your pussy, grunting and moaning as he lapped at your clit and entrance with animalistic rage. Quite canonically to his role, his cock wept against his belly, pre-cum leaking down onto his waistband until the fabric was cloying and sticky, the friction against his tip sending him spiralling. He couldn't help but fuck against the bed as you melted beneath him, writhing against his tongue.

Panting, letting his gloved fingers fuck into you and imagining it was his cock instead, Kento chuckled against your clit, at just how easily he had snapped. He pulled his fingers out of you for a moment, wickedly obsessed by the stark contrast of your creamy white arousal on the black leather.

He could smell you on the balaclava, the fabric over his nose soaking with your essence. Kento felt lightheaded with the blooming, heady scent of you. His cock twitched, aching and neglected, and so close to spilling thick spurts of seed all over its owner.

You risked looking down for just a moment. The eyes of a villain pierced through you, as Kento licked his gloves clean, not breaking eye contact once. You whimpered. He laughed, and curled his fingers back into you, continuing his relentless attack on your poor, aching cunt. Your moans reached a fever pitch, and Kento felt the creep of his own orgasm through his belly as he rutted against the bed with total abandon.

"Sing for me." He groaned, lifting your hips off the bed as he knelt, sucking your clit into his mouth in a devastating final move. You tipped violently over the edge, bucking against his tongue and crying his name, a stream of nonsensical babbles. Kento was quite sure you came harder than the girl in the story.

By the time you came back to earth, being licked in slow, languid movements through your peak, you saw Kento kneeling between your legs, stroking his cock in long, jerking pumps.

"You've reduced me to this." Kento forced, his teeth gritted and his mask back in place over his mouth. "To this...this boy, fucking his own fist just from the taste of you." Kento cursed, his gloved fist wet with pre-cum, cracking his neck from side to side and growling through his lurid tale. You lay, fucked out, bound, a fascinated by how Kento's whiskey-rich voice could fill you with fumes, warm and drunk one minute, but cold and piercing the next. You swung, manoeuvred across his harsh dichotomy.

Kento loomed over you, trapping you beneath him again, blocking the light from your eyes, a bad moon rising. "You did this to me." He hissed, accusatory in his possession of you. "You started this sordid fight. But I'll finish it. No more fisting my cock at night just to the thought of you. No more dreaming about bending you to my will."

You felt Kento's tip press through your entrance, thick and insistent enough that you squirmed up the bed, crying out as he yanked you back, his hands closing around your waist. Kento plaited his fingers in your tied hands, the ghost of affection, and readying himself to slam into your quivering heat. He was falling apart, he could barely contain himself, overcome by the raw power of making you pliable, shaping you to his desires--

Kento whispered in your ear, his voice shaking, gravelly; "And when you submit...know that it was entirely your fault."

You felt your delicate petals forced aside, crying out to be filled to the brim by Kento in one slick thrust. Kento could barely suppress a roar beneath his mask, throwing his head back in ecstasy. His enormous hands cuffed your waist, making it squidge down against your hips every time he dragged your hips, moving your pussy around him like a cock sleeve.

Kento's strength made manhandling you look easy. You lay ruined beneath him, your head lolling against the inside of your own bound arm. The image of him unbuttoned, masked, gloved and still almost fully dressed above you, grunting and groaning as he used your pussy for his own pleasure, burned onto your retinas.

Kento barely moved his own hips, his eyes fixed feverishly on where he dragged your swollen pussy around the length of his cock, twitching and burning inside you. He couldn't contain himself. The hook behind his navel, all scorched steel and selfishness, beseeched him to drag his pleasure from you.

"Fucking-- ruin you-- never be satisfied...by another man again-- keep running from me, and I'll hunt you down...and take you like this every-- fucking-- time--"

As Kento's pleasure roared over him, he punctuated his thrusts against your belly with the written word in action. Making nothing more than jolted, pitiful moans as he fucked repeatedly against your sensitive cervix and soft-spot, you clambered for purchase, sobbing your pleasure as his gloved fingers rolled your clit between them.

Kento came with a string of curses, his thighs cramping beneath him with the force of it. Feeling his seed begin to pump and spurt into you, he dragged you aggressively to another orgasm with his leathered fingers. He had to feel you clench around him, sucking his seed deep inside you. He had just enough forethought to recall his final, toxic line as he gasped, groaning and bucking with the force of his ejaculation.

You could barely hear him through the fog of pleasure, faint in the distance; "If you have the nerve...to crawl back to me...full and swollen-- know we can be enemies in matrimony, as well as battle."

The room was hushed and dark, the gloom broken only by your mingled, heavy breaths, and the earthy smell of sex. You reached up pulling Kento's balaclava up and pressing a breathless little kiss at the corner of his mouth.

"...but...we still have to get a divorce. I just-- couldn't live with you knowing what I read--"

Kento laughed, his shoulders aching from the weight of the villain, slipping away with his gloves and mask.

1K notes · View notes

cobrakaisb · 9 months ago

Text

come one, come all

summary: percy jackson has finally arrived at camp half-blood, so why is he so shocked to see that people have genuine relationships here? aka, the four times percy thought you were dating luke, and the one time he actually asked.

word count: 3.2k

featuring: percy pov!!, 4+1, vaping (again), sassy man apocalypse in the form of luke castellan, reader straight up not giving a fuck, percabeth crumbs (but you gotta squint)

author's note: i am so sorry for the delay with this one!! i was studying for finals, but now that i'm home from college for the summer, hopefully the updates will be more frequent 🤞

series masterlist ||| previous ||| next

hermes cabin, day one, early afternoon

“this is the hermes cabin, home to both his children and the unclaimed,” chiron explains, walking up to the very loud and very rambunctious building.

percy peers inside, and he’s immediately filled with dread. there’s barely enough room in the cabin for the people that actually live there, let alone him. why couldn’t his father claim him already? if anything, percy thought losing his mother would have been enough; clearly it wasn’t. his dread only intensifies, however, when chiron starts clapping his hands, calling the attention of all the campers.

“woah wait a minute,” percy mumbles, but it’s too late.

“this is percy jackson, i trust you will see to whatever he needs,” chiron announces.

it takes the campers approximately two seconds to go back to whatever they were doing beforehand. some campers’ eyes linger a little bit longer on him, but for the most part, they’re all indifferent to his presence. finding a spot proves to be difficult, as every nook and cranny is inhabited.

“you can sleep over there,” a girl says, annoyed.

“thanks,” percy mumbles, but it falls on deaf ears.

the spot isn’t half bad, but it isn’t great either. he’s stuck in between two sets of bunk beds, on a sleeping bag. a sleeping bag. one would think the gods could splurge a little for an air mattress, but percy guesses they must be selfish, at least based on the signs of this cabin: overrun, overfilled, and underdeveloped. he’s unpacking his backpack, the last remnants of his life before his mom explained his paternal lineage, when the whispers start.

“that’s the kid. i think he’s the one that killed the minotaur,” someone whispers, or at least they try to, but percy hears the whole thing.

he turns around, and comes face to face with a group of older campers, all boys. they’ve clearly been here a while (in the hermes cabin, or at camp, percy isn’t sure) based solely on the fact that they’re so comfortable in this environment. a tall, curly black-haired boy steps forward, so percy stands up. he tries to size up the older boy, but if it comes to a fight, he doesn’t think he’ll win.

“look, if you guys want to start something, can you just…do it tomorrow?” he asks.

the older boy doesn’t say anything. instead, he just takes a moment to look at percy, up and down. percy’s breath catches in his throat when he catches sight of the long scar running from the corner of his right eye to his jaw. he’s intimidating, to say the least.

“i’m..” the boy starts to say, but he’s cut off by the sound of loud laughter.

percy turns to face the door, following the older boy’s lead, and sees two girls walk into the cabin. they’re both in workout gear, clearly just coming from a training session, but only one of them moves to drop her stuff on a bed — a bottom bunk in the left hand corner — and the other walks right up to the guy in front of him.

percy wants to warn her, tell her that she shouldn’t mess with this kid. but the grumpy guy smiles at her, completely forgetting about percy.

“busy day?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

“something like that,” the boy mumbles, throwing a sideways glance in percy’s direction.

“oh i see,” she answers slowly, and now both of their eyes are on him.

“luke treating you okay?” she asks.

percy gulps, unsure how to answer her. girls don’t really talk to him, but there’s a first time for everything, he understands that especially well now.

“he literally just got here,” luke says, shoving your shoulder.

you smile at the older boy, and there’s something more behind that stare, but percy can’t really figure out what.

“if he steps out of line, you let me know,” she instructs, jabbing her thumb in luke’s direction.

percy nods, “yeah sure.”

she smiles at him, before walking towards the exit of the cabin. as she’s at the threshold between the inside and the outdoors, she turns around with a mischievous look in her eyes.

“meet me later?” she asks.

“i’ll be there,” luke answers.

she nods, satisfied, and leaves. percy watches luke, who continues to watch her. his eyebrows furrow. maybe he just doesn’t understand teenagers?

hermes cabin, day two, morning

percy’s startled awake. the deep, guttural voice from his dream still haunting him. the darkness from the nightmare is looming over him like a dark cloud. his gasps and heavy breathing draw the attention of luke and his friends, the former leaving his bottom bunk to walk over to percy’s sleeping bag.

“you okay?” luke asks.

percy wonders if he’s genuinely concerned. “super,” he replies.

“we all get them, y’know. deep, intense nightmares. comes with being a demigod,” luke explains, watching percy struggle to get up from his bed.

“so does adhd and dyslexia. they’re your battle instincts talking. everything that’s made you different, an outcast, is normal here,” luke continues to explain, now standing toe to toe with percy.

there’s silence between the two. percy wants to ask him about his godly parent. it’s been weighing on him since he spoke with luke briefly yesterday. for some reason, however, he feels like the question is out of line, too personal for someone he just met.

yet, he can’t help himself: “so are you also…do you not know…are you…”

“am i unclaimed? no, hermes is my father, but that doesn’t matter. we’re all family here,” luke replies, giving percy’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“and the girl from last night…is she…?” percy asks.

luke chuckles at his uncertainty, clearly finding humor in his embarrassing situation. “no. she knows who her mother is. you should ask her about it.”

percy nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. he feels angry all of a sudden looking around the hermes cabin. it’s filled to the brim with campers, some who know who their parents are, and others who don’t. he doesn’t think anyone should have to live like this; it’s not fair.

“how can the gods just bring us here and ignore us? how is that fair?” percy asks.

luke shakes his head, “spend all your time trying to figure out why the gods do what they do and you’ll go crazy. besides, you haven’t even experienced the best thing that camp has to offer.”

“what’s that?” percy asks.

“glory.”

percy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. he vaguely remembers hearing mr. bruner, or chiron, talk about glory in class, but he can’t pinpoint the exact memory. the way luke talks about it, however, makes percy think that it must be important. there has to be some reason why everyone is fighting for glory, why they deal with all the dangers of being a demigod.

“demigods used to fight for glory. they called it kleos. it attaches meaning to your name, making you bigger, scarier, and more important,” luke explains, leading percy outside of the hermes cabin, along with a handful of his friends.

“it puts respect on your name,” luke’s friend, chris barges in.

percy’s smiles at that. he likes the sound of glory, especially when some girl shoulders past him, pushing his body right into luke’s. percy stumbles, turning to face the back of the girl. he wasn’t going to deal with this bullying crap at summer camp of all places.

“hey,” he shouts, getting her attention.

she turns around, immediately shoving him into the ground. percy gasps, staring up at her in shock, but before she can get a word in, the girl from last night is standing in front of him.

“knock it off clarisse. it’s like his first day,” luke mumbles.

the girl from last night helps him up, and he smiles at her in thanks. she nods, giving him a once over, ensuring that he’s okay before she turns back to clarisse. it’s like a switch flipped inside her. those same eyes, the ones showing kindness towards him just a mere second ago, are now filled with cold, hard, anger.

clarisse says something to taunt him, but the girl just shakes her head, crossing her arms against her chest.

“jealous that it wasn’t you?” she taunts, stepping into clarisse’s personal space.

“no,” clarisse snaps, facing the other girl head on.

“really? cause it sounds like you wish you were standing in his shoes right now. maybe then daddy would give you a little bit of attention, huh?” she replies.

luke whispers her name in a seething tone, hand pulling on her shoulder to move her away from clarisse. however, she jerks out of his grip, continuing to stare head on at the curly haired girl with a satisfied smirk playing at her lips.

“you better watch your back,” clarisse snaps, looking at percy once again before storming off.

“and you better watch yours,” the girl, who’s still standing in front of percy protectively answers.

clarisse doesn’t respond, and so luke takes the time to reprimand you. his voice is soft, and percy can barely hear, let alone register, the words coming out of his mouth. you roll your eyes at whatever he’s saying, barely paying attention. instead, percy notices that your eyes aren’t leaving luke’s lips, and he’s again left wondering what’s going on between the two of you.

“but if i wasn’t here, who was gonna play hero?” you ask, a soft pout on your lips.

percy can tell you’re teasing luke, trying to get a rise out of him, but the older boy just shakes his head in response. percy watches as your finger reaches under his bright orange shirt, looping through one of the belt loops of his cargoes. luke leans down slightly, and percy thinks he might kiss you, but you step away from him in a fit of giggles.

“i’ll see you later, counselor luke,” you tease, walking backwards so everyone can see the teasing smile on your face.

percy makes a mental note not to get on your bad side.

dining pavilion, day two, evening

“is there a greek god of disappointment, maybe someone should ask if he’s missing a kid,” percy grumbles, taking a seat at the table across from luke and chris.

after a long day of training, with little to no rewards, percy felt utterly defeated. there was some good that came out of the day’s events, however, as he realized his lack of coordination did not make him a strong candidate for the apollo cabin. similarly, setting fire to the already burning forges had luke and chris ruling out hephaestus. regardless, he just wanted his dad to recognize him. after a life of torment and the loss of his mom, the one person who loved him, he could use the validation.

luke opens his mouth, ready to answer his previous question, but chris beats him to it.

“oizys…but she’s a goddess and her whole thing isn’t really disappointment, it’s failure,” chris mumbles, pushing around the salad on his plate.

“oh my gods chris, don’t scare the kid,” you shout, shoving his shoulder as you take a seat next to percy.

another girl follows behind you, taking the seat on the other side of percy. he feels himself going rigid, why are these two older girls sitting by his side? he feels nervous all of a sudden, and wonders if this is normal. he looks nervously to luke, who seems to be the only one capable of providing actual guidance in these types of situations.

luke doesn’t say anything, instead he’s too busy looking at you.

“having daddy issues?” the girl on his right, who’s not you, asks.

“um i guess,” percy answers, but he’s not confident in his words at all.

the girl chuckles at him, a hand coming up to ruffle his blonde hair, and percy watches as her eyes twinkle with something akin to childish mischief.

“maybe you’re her step-brother,” she says, gesturing towards you with a tip of her chin.

“are you a child of aphrodite?” percy asks, because maybe this nice girl is referring to ares as his father.

you stop chewing your dinner, shock crossing your features. the other three teens all burst into laughter, and percy doesn’t understand what’s wrong with his question. you’re pretty enough, and you seem to possess a tiny bit of mean girl energy (cause only regina george would have demolished clarisse like that). therefore, the logical conclusion is that you’re related to aphrodite. besides, aren’t ares and aphrodite secretly dating? so he’d be your step-brother?

“what?” he asks, looking around.

“aphrodite is not my mother,” you answer, white-knuckling the fork.

“oh,” he says, “so who is?”

percy watches as your jaw clenches, and you flash a dangerous look in luke’s direction. luke lifts his hands up in a state of defense, as if to say that he didn’t put percy up to this. you, however, don’t seem to believe him as you take one of the green grapes on your plate and chuck it at him. luke catches the grape in his mouth, chewing slowly with a smirk on his face.

“almost sweetheart,” he taunts.

you scoff before getting up from the table, with your plate, and walking towards the firepit in the middle of the pavilion. on your way over, you stick your fingers through luke’s curls, and shove his face down towards his mashed potatoes.

“did i do something wrong?” he asks, looking at the remaining girl to his right.

“nah, she’s always like that,” she answers.

“yeah,” chris mumbles, “if anyone knows it’s katrina.”

they jump into their own conversation and percy watches as you drop your entire dinner into the fire pit. the flames turn a deep purple and you nod in satisfaction before walking off towards the cabins.

he can’t figure out who likes the color purple, but wonders if it had anything to do with luke. however, he knows not to ask.

hermes cabin, day two, night

percy was supposed to be asleep twenty minutes ago, at least that’s when luke called for lights out and everyone crawled into bed. but, he really needs to use the bathroom. poor planning on his part, not going before bed time, but he knows he’ll never make it until morning. so, he gets up as quietly as possible, slips on his blue hoodie, and tip-toes towards the door of the hermes cabin.

he hesitates for a moment, hearing two people talking quietly outside the door. he waits patiently, hoping that they’ll leave, but their conversation only keeps going.

“and annabeth’s sure about this?” someone asks, and percy realizes that it’s you.

the other person scoffs, “you doubting my sister?”, and percy pinpoints the voice as luke’s.

“never. i’m doubting him,” you answer.

“c’mon, you know clarisse picks on everybody,” luke mumbles.

there’s a pause in the conversation, and percy thinks maybe you’ve left or moved on, but then your voice rings out into the quiet of the night:

“i have this feeling that he’s important, but i can’t figure out why.”

another pause.

“we’ll see when he gets claimed,” luke answers.

“if he gets claimed,” you reply.

“he will, even if it’s hera style,” luke says, and percy can’t help himself from opening the door.

“your mom’s hera? i thought she didn’t have kids!” percy shouts, shocking both you and luke.

you jump, and percy watches as you move to hide the bright orange vape in your hand. you wave away some of the smoke, and luke steps slightly in front of you, blocking your body from percy’s view. he notices the protective edge in luke’s posture, and how there was already very little space between you two.

“what are you doing out past curfew?” luke asks, staring percy down.

“i could ask you the same thing, but for the record, i’m going to the bathroom,” percy explains, standing his guard.

“just be quick, and watch out for the harpies,” you advise, tugging on the back of luke’s camp counselor shirt.

percy nods before walking by the two of you to head down the stairs. once he’s a little ways away, he risks a glance back at the hermes cabin porch. you’re still standing there with luke, his palms resting on your waist as he rubs circles with his thumb on your exposed skin. you two are whispering about something, but he can’t figure out what. he sees you slip luke your vape, but looks away when the older boy takes a hit.

that seemed oddly intimate.

lakeshore, day three, post-capture the flag

he’s in for it now, at least that’s what he assumes when he sees half of clarisse’s spear in his fist. she screams loudly, and percy hopes that you’ll hear and come to his rescue. thankfully, his saving grace comes in the form of the head counselor of the hermes cabin.

luke comes rushing down the side lines, holding the red flag high above his head. several people are following him, the entire blue team in fact, but percy can easily pinpoint you in the crowd. you don’t have a helmet on, which isn’t surprising to him; it fits your character. he notices how the baby hairs stick to your sweaty forehead, yet your eyes are bright and happy. this has to be the happiest he’s seen you.

your eyes never leave luke, even as he accepts hugs, handshakes, and overall congratulations from the other members of the team. finally, after the novelty of winning wears off, and his siblings finally give luke some space, you walk over to him. you shoulder check him, causing him to stumble a little on his feet, but the happiness doesn’t leave either of your eyes.

percy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. you’re mean to luke, but you’re also not mean to luke.

“where’s my hug at?” luke asks, opening his arms wide for you.

you snort at him, shoving him backwards with a firm hand on his chestplate. luke doesn’t seem to mind, however, as his smile widens and he pulls off his helmet. he shakes his head back and forth, letting his curls loose after being confined for so long. percy watches you watch him, bottom lip between your teeth. luke opens his mouth, ready to say something, but you prevent him from even doing so. instead, you grab onto the brown leather straps of his armor, and pull his lips down to yours.

all the campers ring out in cheers. some of them even clap at the display of affection from the two of you.

“so they’re dating?” he asks no one in particular.

“yes,” annabeth answers from beside him.

he turns to look at her, understanding washing over him. you and luke are perfect for each other, balancing each other out. percy hopes he’ll find something like that with someone. he looks around camp, and his eyes land on annabeth, who magically appeared next to him.

“hey wait…were you here the whole time?” percy asks her, feeling a little angry that she basically watched him get his ass kicked by clarisse.

“percy,” she starts, “i’m really sorry about this,” and she pushes him into the water.

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