#i love being embarrassed ⁄⁠(⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠-⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠)⁠⁄ i want to be embarrassed so bad | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whorelaud · 2 days ago

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OFF LIMITS – rafe cameron ¡ (02)

social media & irl AU !

pairing brother's best friend!rafe cameron x brat!reader summary you slide into a random boy's dms on instagram, anything but expecting him to end up being your brother's best friend, let alone the person you'll be spending your summer vacation with. while resisting Rafe and his lingering gazes was an option, you found yourself in the constant loop of crossing the line; said line being your brother. ch content sexual jokes, rafe being a tease !

NAVIGATION. series masterlist | 01 ¡ 02 ¡ 03

yourusername

liked by sarahcameron, rafecameron and 1,129 others yourusername me and gf on a mermaids date 🧜‍♀️

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sarahcameron GF 🙈🙈🙈 most beautiful girl ive ever seen ↳ yourusername BABYYY ily

sarahcameron do you want to be my wife ↳ johnroutledge Uhm ↳ yourusername leave little boy she doesnt want you 🧏‍♀️

sarahcameron cant believe we met its been SO long ↳ yourusername still in shock could you kiss me to make sure this is real? ↳ sarahcameron come to mama 💋

ryanontop God your ugly ↳ yourusername you’re*… spell right you illiterate fuck ↳ ryanontop Fuck off it was a typo ↳ yourusername you know damn well!!!!

cleoanderson WAIT WHAT

kiecarrera ??? HUH

kiecarrera IM SO CONFUSED ↳ cleoanderson ME TOO ☹️ ↳ sarahcameron hey 👋 ↳ cleoanderson girl you both got some explaining to do ↳ yourusername trust me i was as shocked as you are 😓

popeheyward Insane ↳ yourusername PIPE down fella (get it ahahaha) ↳ popeheyward That wasn't funny ↳ cleoanderson be nice to my girl >:( ↳ popeheyward Baby you're supposed to defend me ↳ yourusername YEAHHH CLOCK THAT HO

jjmaybanks whats for supper ↳ yourusername saltwater

user1 PRETTY!!!!

user2 so lovely 🥹

user3 DRESS ATE DOWN ↳ yourusername YEAHH tryna impress the hoes ↳ ryanontop Crickets ↳ sarahcameron not cool Ryan. ↳ ryanontop Sorry Sarah Cameron.

rafecameron Hey 👋🏼👋🏼👋🏼 ↳ yourusername uhhh uhmm ↳ rafecameron ??? What ↳ sarahcameron what are you doing here ↳ yourusername yeah get out of my comment section ↳ rafecameron I’m not even doing anything

rafecameron Sarah looks like a duck ↳ yourusername shes my little duckling 🐥 ↳ rafecameron Oh I didn't mean that in a cute way ↳ sarahcameron hey >:( ↳ yourusername insult my gf one more time and ill fuck you UP ↳ rafecameron Oh? ↳ ryanontop Uhh ↳ rafecameron Yo wsg baby ↳ yourusername flirt somewhere else please dont start sexting in my comment section ↳ rafecameron Awe man :( but it's way more fun in public ↳ yourusername pardon me! there's children in my comments, please refrain from having sex here ↳ rafecameron You're the one talking about sexting, not me...

Involving yourself with Rafe Cameron, whom you later found out was good friends with your brother, was definitely not a part of your plan.

Spending the next two months with him meant coming to terms with your actions, perhaps take responsibility for the mess you created out of this situation. Had you further dug into his information, paid attention to the last name splattered across your screen, you would not have ended up in the bathroom, contemplating whether going downstairs was a good idea.

Avoiding him could be an option right now, but you knew you'd have to face him one day, whether it was today, or another. And while he stayed oblivious to the incident, you couldn’t help the embarrassment that flushed your face everytime his eyes would lock with yours.

You somehow spent the afternoon together, his lingering gazes leaving you a nervous mess every time his eyes fell on you. He’d stare at you for a few seconds, letting tension heave through the air, almost as if it was the most casual thing ever, as if he’s not your brother’s best friend, someone so off limits, forbidden to the touch.

Besides that, it was nice, you got to spend more time with Sarah, catch up with the girl and everything you missed out on in the past few hours she was gone. It distracted you from your embarrassment, eternally grateful, because you don’t think you’ll be capable of spending another minute within Rafe’s presence without exploding.

Taking a deep breath, you mustered up the courage to head downstairs, taking each step with haste. Sarah perked up when the hardwood creaked underneath you, causing you to come to a halt. Sarah called out your name, addressing you with the hand she waved in your direction, her excitement instantly replacing the frown spread across your face with a smile.

“What took you so long?” Her lips jut into a pout, tucking her hair behind her ear. She welcomed you with open arms, chuckling when you accepted the embrace with a content hum “You know, I missed you.”

“You were jus’ talking to me.” You muffled out, relaxing as the blonde rocked your bodies back and forth.

“It’s not the same!” She exclaimed, pulling away for a moment. “It’s not everyday I get to see you in real life.”

Ryan cleared his throat, in an attempt to earn yours and Sarah’s attention. To his satisfaction, he did, causing your gaze to shift back to the latter, instantly detecting the disgusted expression he had splattered across his face.

“Can you save this for later, and please help me out?” Ryan questioned, making you roll your eyes. “You think I called you down so you could be all over each other?”

“Shut up.” Sarah stuck out her tongue, teasing the latter from where she stood.

You scrunched your nose, tensing when you sensed Rafe’s burning glare from the corner of your eyes. The boy’s glances were intense, almost as if he was staring at you for the purpose of undressing you with his gaze, and that, yeah, it never failed to knock a breath out of your chest, creating a flustered mess out of you.

Sarah returned to her old position, standing behind the counter with you following in her steps, striving to see what they were up to. Your lips formed into an ‘o’ shape, peaking with interest when you noticed the deviled eggs Ryan was plating.

“That looks good,” you hummed, turning in Ryan’s direction, who conceitedly nodded, proud of the dish they had displayed on the counter. “Don’t people usually make these for thanksgiving, though?”

“That’s what I said!” Sarah agreed, giggling when Ryan grumbled, disapproving of your statement.

“You’re acting like you’re not gonna eat them!” He elbowed your side, acknowledging you with his chin when you hissed, faking a pained expression. “Stop complaining and grab more plates, we need them for the mash potatoes.”

“The only thing missing is the turkey, at this point.” You scoffed, mumbling to yourself, though Ryan could still hear you. “Where’s the plates?”

“Uhh,” Sarah started, observing the cabinets behind you. She pointed to one of them with her finger, your eyes instantly following where her digit landed. “You can find some in there.”

With a nod, you shuffled to approach the stacked cabinets, aiming for the one Sarah was referring to. A groan instantly escaped your throat, gaze trailing up to the plates positioned on the top shelf.

“Why on earth are these cabinets so high?” You whined, standing on your tippy toes to grab the dishes, merely to end up with nothing in your grasp. “And why are you putting plates on the top shelf?! None of you could reach them!”

You extended your arm once again, stretching out your body in an attempt to seize the plates, losing your balance when you maintained the same position for a little too long, eventually failing to achieve what you were aiming for.

Ryan mumbled a few words of complaints, rushing you to grab the plates faster, though he noticed that you were struggling, not offering to step in and help you. You paused for a second, calculating how you were going to capture the plates without asking for help, as that was a no in your watch.

Right, you could use a chair, and although that was quite the embarrassment, it was the only option you had, even if it meant making a fool out of yourself.

“Here, lemme try.”

You tensed where you stood, breath hitching when Rafe shuffled behind you, his broad chest colliding against your back. Your vision blurred as you inhaled his scent, his musky cologne intoxicating your senses.

Your gaze trailed up his arm, where it hovered over your shoulder, the brief contact sending goosebumps down your spine. And if you weren’t aware before, you definitely are now, enjoying the sight of him towering over you a little too much for your liking.

The latter grunted as he reached for the plates, capturing them with a little difficulty. The sound instantly echoed through your ears, blinding you whole, that you had no right being this into it. Your mind wandered with thoughts you shouldn’t even ponder about, not as the boy was innocently stepping in to help, when your own brother couldn’t.

“There you go.” Rafe muttered, voice barely above a whisper. He placed the plates on the counter in front of you, moving to catch sight of your reaction, chuckling when he noticed how flustered you were, mouth slightly parting with an exhale. “Did I startle you? Sorry, I was jus’ tryin’ to help.”

“Right,” you said through a breath, blinking far too many times for your liking. “Thank you, I– that was really nice.”

“Mhm.” He leaned his arm over the counter, admiring you with a knowing smile tugging at his lips. He stood still for a moment, almost as if he was seeking something out of you, perchance a reply, if that was even appropriate in this situation.

“What?” You asked, cluelessly staring back at him, fingers clutching the plates you had in hand.

“Could you hurry up!” Ryan interrupted, causing you to jolt from where you stood, leaving Rafe hanging as you headed in your brother’s direction. “The food’s about to run cold.”

“You could’ve helped me grab them, dickhead.” You scoffed, failing to keep your eyes to yourself as you stole a glance in Rafe’s direction, breath catching in your throat when you spotted him yet staring at you, with the same mischievous smile he had from earlier.

He’s only helping, you’re acting like this because it caught you off guard, right? Fuck, you were totally screwed, how were you supposed to act normal when Rafe was behaving like a gentleman, doing everything in his power to make you comfortable, whether it’s him helping you grab the plates, or him offering you a drink with the scorching hot sun.

Either way, this was bad, for your mental being, and the boundaries you created for yourself. It’s only been a day, what will happen in the next few weeks you’re spending with him? You don’t know, but what you do know is that they’ll be hell, tortuous, even.

Sarah passed you the pot of mash, politely asking you to plate it, making it hard for you to refuse the request. You did as told, doing it as neatly as physically possible, with Ryan nagging over your head, telling you to be more cautious in the process.

You managed to get what you were asked for done, with the boy pestering you nonstop throughout it, creating a frustrated mess out of you. Rafe offered a helping hand, arranging the plates on the table, for each person they were serving.

The elders came through the front door, having been gone for most of the time they’ve been here, excusing themselves for what you assumed was a business meeting. You embraced your mom in a hug, presenting the food to her with your free arm, snickering when she squealed, taken aback by all the food displayed on the table.

Dinner was chaotic, filled with chatter and giggles as everyone bonded over the food, getting to catch up with each other. Ward was quite the man, and while you did dislike him, witnessing all the times he was harsh to Sarah, you couldn’t dodge his curious questions, not when everyone surrounding you thought of you as angel who wouldn’t hurt a fly.

You kept to yourself for most of the time, amused by Sarah and Ryan arguing over who cooked each dish, fighting to claim their credit. And as for Rafe, well, he was there, sitting besides Ryan, who was across from you.

“You’re oddly quiet, Bug.” Sarah suddenly started, talking over the elders, who were chatting about business. “Is everything okay?”

“Huh, yeah!” You nodded, flashing her an endearing smile, one Sarah contently returned.

“It’s only ‘cause there’s people around,” Ryan clicked his teeth, having heard the conversation. “Trust, she’s such a brat, don’t encourage her to keep talking, otherwise, she’ll never shut up.”

“Can you not?” You muffled through gritted teeth, kicking his foot from underneath the table. “Could you also move? You’re all up in my space.”

“That’s uh,” Rafe choked out, taking a sip off of the glass of water splattered across his side of the table. “That’s my leg.”

You froze your spot, eyes widening with shock when you peaked under the table, discerning that it was Rafe’s leg you were kicking, Ryan’s far back positioned inches away from his chair. Sarah mimicked your action, chuckling when she caught sight of the ridiculous sight, entertained by the situation.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” You apologized, eyebrows furrowing with concern. “I thought you were Ryan.”

“It’s okay.” He dismisses, flashing you a gentle smile. “Sorry for ruining your uh– plans.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Ryan jutted his lips into a pout, turning to glimpse at Rafe, whose face filled with concern. “You’re supposed to defend me. Why are you taking her side?”

“Mhm,” Rafe hummed, going along with the bit. His fingers found the curve of Ryan’s jaw, cupping his face in a teasing manner. “Did I hurt your feelings? I’m sorry, I’ll be more cautious next time. Do you want a kiss, sweetheart?”

Ryan nodded, nuzzling into the latter’s hand, letting his eyes fall shut when Rafe leaned forward, placing a chaste kiss to his forehead. The mere sight made you sick to your stomach, with Sarah just as cringed out as you were, grumbling with detest.

Looks like you had some competition.

“Can you not?” Sarah huffed, “We’re eating.”

“She doesn’t get it.” Ryan shook his head with disappointment, withdrawing from the touch. Rafe agreed by nodding, patting Ryan’s shoulder before he got back to eating, acting as if that was the normalest thing they’ve done over dinner.

Fancy plating was all fun and games until you had to do the dishes, and with the little work you did tonight, it did not look good on your watch. Ryan excused himself out of the list, with Sarah following behind, informing you that they made dinner, meaning it was your turn to do the dishes.

Which, truth be told was fair, you totally understood where they were coming from, because if that was you, you would’ve done the same thing.

“I’ll help out.” Rafe joined in, the suggestion creating a nervous mess out of you.

That’s how you ended up in front of the sink, watching as plates piled up with every dish Rafe brought, instantly joining your side after he tidied up the table, wiping it clean to ensure a disinfected setting.

Your contained giggles seeped through the silence, observing as Rafe clumsily scrubbed a plate, stumbling as it almost slipped from his hands. A sigh of relief escaped his parted lips, tightening his hold around it before it could further slither through his fingers.

“You don’t need to do it.” You uttered, catching Rafe’s attention, who turned to face you with a smug grin spread across his lips, oblivious to the teasing smile you flashed him.

“Why?” He curled one of his eyebrows with confusion, scrubbing the plate with all his might, though it was past its limit. “Do you not want my help?”

“It’s not that,” you playfully rolled your eyes, rinsing off the excess soap. “It just looks like you’re struggling.”

“‘That so?” He shot back, mimicking your action, copying your each move to make sure he’s doing it right.

“Mhm.” You mused, letting silence linger through the air, atmosphere heaving with tension.

“You know,” Rafe started, eyes glued to his gloved hands. “You’re different over text.”

You almost drop the plate in your hand, caught off guard by the latter’s statement. Rafe maintained a blank expression, continuing what he was doing while you tensed in your spot, too dumbfounded to move, or respond.

“I–” you stammered, abandoning the dishes piled in the sink, and focusing your whole attention on Rafe. “Why are you bringing that up?”

“Should I not?” He questioned, stealing a swift glance in your direction as he cocked his head to the side, intrigued by how the conversation was flowing. “I mean, you did text me this morning, am I supposed to pretend it didn’t happen?”

“You said it yourself,” you started, suddenly feeling your throat go dry. “Ryan’s my brother, it would be best if we didn’t discuss this.”

“Why not?” He muttered, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not like we’re doin’ anythin’ weird, y’know? I mean, you did leave an impression on me.”

“impression?” You repeated, jeered by his words as your mouth moved faster than your brain. “Did you know we’d be meeting here?”

“Well,” he replied, rinsing off the soapy dishes. “I can’t say I didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you say anything, then?” You whispered, afraid others would overhear your conversation. “Had you told me, I wouldn’t have continued speaking to you. Do you know how awkward things are now that you’re here?”

“Why?” Rafe hushed out, pausing for a second, before he turned to face you, now leveling his face with your own. “Am I making you nervous?”

Your throat ran dry, taken aback by the question. Was he flirting with you? And if not, why did it have such a big effect on you? Tolling you with temptation in ways you knew were impossible, out of reach, even.

“What?” You uttered through a breath, face flushing with heat. “No– no it’s just–”

“I’m just messing.” He snickered, amused by how flustered you grew, stuttering to mutter a coherent statement out.

“That wasn’t funny.” You grumbled out, fluttering your eyes at the latter, visibly embarrassed by the reaction the boy received from you.

“Right.” He chuckled, not sounding convinced at all.

The next few minutes filled with tension, as you both fell quiet, letting silence heave the air. Rafe didn’t seem as affected as you were, maintaining a blank expression the whole time you were a mess, too embarrassed to be in the boy’s presence, who seemed oblivious to the uncomfortable atmosphere he had created.

You instantly excused yourself to your room afterwards, telling the boy you were sleepy, though it was too early for bed. You needed a moment to yourself, even if it meant lying through your teeth.

Besides, you weren’t the only one who was gone, as Sarah was nowhere in sight, disappearing once you were done. She was probably talking to her boyfriend, hence you know how clingy they were with each other.

You took a quick shower, freshening up before bed, immediately followed with your skin care routine, playing soft music in the background while you did so. You dressed yourself in comfortable pajamas, instantly slipping under your covers, letting the warmness engulf your body whole.

Your eyes droswed with sleep, after a few hours of scrolling through your phone, not noticing the time, only acknowledging how late it was when you received a notification that earned your attention. Your breath almost hitched as you opened the DM, caught off guard by who it was from.

It was Rafe.

a/n THANK YOU FOR ALL THE SUPPORT ON THIS WTH!! i wasnt expectingt it ily mwahh!! & just a little fyi this story will have more irl parts, it wont be solely sm based as i alr have stated in the beginning! it will definitely have social media, but im not abandoning the irl part of it yk 😣 that being said, feel free to lmk if you want to be removed/added to the taglist :) (in order to stay on it, you need to interact with the posts)

TAGLIST @greyswaren @slut-4-gojo @depthsofdespairr @littlelamy @lilithblackkk @cnnamongrl @mattyskies @percysley @jaklvbub @inlovewithdob @ilovefiction4lmen @theeternaloptimistt @maybejj @icaqttt @idgasb @purplerose291 @shincidios @laniirackssss @malibuhearts @adulterated-cocaine @bugg06 @murdockcastleslut @drwstarkeys @pretymads @klmaaaoooo @wearemadeofstardust0 @urbrunettebombshell @stylestarkey @riverxsq @louxmcl @totalswag @cl4uus @simpforboys @tearsfromasliverwolf-blog @bilssturns @fandomhopped @strsdoulikedem @congratsloserr @dr3wstarkey @xoxo-ada @stvrligghtt @rafeswhoooreee @kythefangirl25 @chaneydoll @blushmimi @akobx @empath-bunny @flirtism @stopnala @rafecameronswifeyy

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x brat!reader #rafe cameron smau #rafe cameron social media au #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe obx #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey #outer banks

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ivysprophecy · 3 days ago

Text

bed chem

warnings; uhm sex lol? oral (male and femme recieving) very whorish thoughts, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it pls pls pls), brief mentions of bruising and hickeys, dirty talk. breeding kink if you squint

p. 1 | p. 3

word count; 2295

summary; jj and you have always been able to get along as long as it was in a nice comfy bed. what happens when you start to wonder if your chemistry goes beyond that?

divider by: @bernardsbendystraws

im being so for real when i say id let jj do just about anything he wanted to me.

and im not even being dramatic.

the second i can feel his lips make contact with that spot below my ear and his hands leaving finger prints on my hips, im a goner.

i dont necessarily know what it is about him specifically, and saying its our chemistry feels so icky to say but i dont know how else to describe it.

the way he hooks his thumbs through the belt loops on my shorts? like right now? yea im soaked already.

"mama you've been teasin me all night with that fucking idiot of a date- dont gotta do that baby you just gotta ask me for it."

"jj less talking more tongue."

"yes mama," he smirks up at me from his lap, his lips going back to my neck.

i have to interrupt him because i simply cant keep this shirt on my body. unfortunately i did have my cakes on so he just had to chuckle at them

"jj weve talked about this! they aren't funny!"

"baby theyre boob pancakes for your nipples its always gonna be hilarious."

" 'always' as if youre gonna see them again. how confident."

"sweetheart you say that every time. just let me give the girls some love and enjoy it, yea?" with that he starts peppering kisses all over my chest, his hands pawing at both of them.

"jesus-" the moans that come from my throat are honestly embarrassing but hes just too fucking good at this. he knows every sensitive inch on me.

its like he has me fucking memorized its insane. he feels insane.

and it doesnt help that he loves eye contact. i hate admitting that it flusters me, i dont want him knowing it takes everything in me to keep half of my dignity when he has me like this.

my fingers find the buckle of his belt doing my best to blindly work it off of his waist desperate to get whats under his pants.

im not ashamed to admit that.

"someones eager tonight," he pulls off of my chest with a noisy pop sound, smiling that signature cocky grin that i love to hate. "you gonna tell me what you want?"

i push him back onto the bed so i have easier access to his belt, more so his dick if im being honest.

"i want you to stop talking so i can get your pants off. why dont you work on that shirt for me baby?"

"well since you asked so sweetly," he chuckles throwing off his cut off while helping you get rid of his shorts. "only if you put your shorts on the floor next to mine."

"thats such a weird fucking thing to say jj what the fuck?"

"what? i thought thatd be cute."

"youre so freaking weird," you roll your eyes sliding off your shorts throwing them in whatever direction. they land next to his

jj sits there, head against the pillows watching me. i cant help but feel uneasy, im aware that i have no reason to be uncomfortable and that hes seen me this way plenty of times before but theres something in his eyes that makes me feel like hes drinking in every inch of me and its a but unsettling,

"youre so pretty. cant get enough of ya. ever," he gestures for me to come closer with his fingers before snapping and pointing to his face, "park it pretty mama."

"jj-" i start to interrupt him but he refuses any rebuttal.

"uh uh. weve talked about this. youre gonna sit on my face and im gonna eat it as much as i please. cmon now dont be shy. it doesnt suit you."

blush eats away at your cheeks as you crawl forward closer to his face, gripping the headboard for stability.

"im not shy."

"then act like it baby. now let me taste you, wanna warm you up good for me," and with those last words his arms wrap around my hips and he pulls me down so my weight is on his face.

the second his lips make contact his tongue is READY to work, and let me be clear he knows where the clit is okay? Sucking, licking, even nipping he does it all so fucking good.

all while looking up at me as i use his face like a damn chair.

my hips are desperately trying match the pace of his tongue, i can feel his nose rubbing against my clit giving me the best kind of friction im looking for.

oh my god and when he moans into me?? im done. finished. totaled. i cannot stop the sounds im making.

my legs shake beside his head, and hes staring up at me so smug, so proud of himself like his ability to make me cum was ever in question.

"see? so good for me mama was that so hard?"

i cant even get the words out, still clutching onto the headboard catching my breath. "jj-"

"ive got you dont worry," he picks me up by my waist and twists us so hes now hovering over me. "ill make you feel so good i promise."

"jj- i-" i try to take a deep breath and gather my thoughts, none of them holy obviously. "just gimme a second-"

"awe, someone overstimulated? already?"

i close my eyes and take a deep breath, because yes i do get easily overstimulated. "dont be a dick-"

"i havent even pulled it out yet."

"oh yea? lets see what you've got to say when ive got you all up in my mouth huh? lets find out baby."

i move out from underneath him and lay my head off the edge of the bed, looking at him with an excited glimmer in my eyes and my tongue sticking out.

"holy shit-" i giggle watching jj practically fall off the bed to take his boxers off, fumbling to do so. "are you serious?"

"yea jayj im serious," i say through a few laughs. "now cmere. remember you dont gotta hold back. i can take it."

"oh my god- shit. mama you keep talking like that and im not gonna last."

"i dont wanna talk jj i want your cock in my mouth," and with those final words his boxers drop to the floor. and i can see how ready is, honestly it looks painful. and i wanna make him feel all better.

my hand finds his, pulling him closer to the beds edge. once his length is over my mouth i run my tongue down his shaft, taking him into my hand and pumping what i cant reach.

"you ready for me baby?"

jj doesnt answer, he grabs my hair and tugs my head down further having me open my mouth before stuffing me full.

i can hear the groan he lets out, its guttural. and hot as fuck.

my tongue slides along his length almost asking to pull him in deeper. but he keeps still for a moment, gathering himself so he can continue.

but i know my boy. hes not gonna wait much longer to be inside me and i have no plans on arguing about it.

after a minute his hips buck forward a bit. "you good mama?"

and of course i cant really respond with his dick in my mouth. so naturally i try to take him deeper, urging him to move his hips again.

his grip on my hair tightened as he buried himself as deep as he could and slowly pulling back out.

poor guy is torturing himself! i havent even done anything, and he knows he doesnt have to go this slow.

he keeps his rhythm slow and steady, and i can feel the anticipation in his muscles restricting himself so i give his thigh a quick tap letting him know to pull away.

"jj you okay? you can go faster."

he lets a groan fall from his already pouty lips, "mama i cant handle going faster. need to be in ya when i bust."

i cant help but chuckle at his admission.

"oh baby. shouldve just said somethin. how you want me?"

i love making his eyes roll to the back of is head. but not like that weird anime shit. you know what i mean?

jj jumps back onto the mattress, back against the headboard patting his lap. "you know i want the girls all up in my face sweetheart. cmon and give me a good ride."

"yes captain," did i always say that jokingly? of course. did he always take it seriously? absolutely.

i climb over his lap, letting my knees rest against the bed sheets.

"youre still on the pill mama? or you still like the idea of me puttin a baby in ya" he looks up at me with pleading eyes, praying i am because he knows that means ill let him in bare. so fucking pussy whipped. i love it.

"jj you wouldn't be in this bed with me if i wasnt, now are you clean?" i have to ignore the baby comment because yea i really really really do.

"if you really believed i wasnt you wouldve have just tried to suck out my soul."

he does technically have a point there. "cant think straight when youre just standing there you know that jj. cmon are you clean or not?"

"youre the only one for me sweetheart. hop on, please. im beggin ya. need you so bad mama its killin me."

"'s gonna be a tight fit. 'm already so swollen down there."

"jesus," his head falls to rest on my chest and its like he all of a sudden remembers i have tits. peppering kisses all over my chest before wrapping his mouth over my nipple as i line him up. "baby you dont even know what youre saying. what its doin to me. got me so worked up im not gonna last long."

"good thing too because neither am i."

letting my weight lower onto him we moan out in unison, grabbing the hairs at the nape of his neck i hold tight as i let the sting of his size settle.

i do adjust rather quickly, seeing as hes been inside me plenty times before.

rocking my hips to start slow, i press small kisses on his hair as his grip on my hips tightens. part of me hopes i have little finger tip bruises tomorrow. they always show through my swimsuits. jj cant get enough of them.

"shit baby i need more.. cmon you can take it. its alright im not goin no where. give it to me."

fuck does he know how to talk me through it.

i raise myself a little only to leave a small drop, increasing the pace with each bounce. because holy shit he just hits that spot every damn time. sometimes i legit wonder if his dick was made for me.

then i roll my eyes at how fucking whipped i sound.

"yeaaa thats it mama. you keep that up, just how ya like it," thats the last thing he says before his thumbs starts toying with my clit and his mouth is once against attached to one of my breasts.

jjs the only guy that ive ever told that i need something else when hes inside me. never once made me feel insecure or guilty about it. in fact, i kind think he loves that he gets to play with me more.

"holy shit- jay- jay im close... you there baby?"

i can feel him nod against me so i move faster, harder, whatever i can do to chase that high im so desperately close to. and i can tell hes close to, hes got a little twitch whenever hes almost there and it feel soooo fucking good. takes me right over the edge.

"yeaaa gorgeous thats it. want me to fill you up? want me to make you my real mama?"

my head buries itself in his neck, covering it in small kisses to muffle my moans as i finish all over him.

and he's not close behind, thrusting up to meet me as i ride out mine, finishing just moments after me and i can feel him covering my insides.

and dammit if i dont wanna feel this way forever.

"so fucking good mama. made just for me i swear..." he mumbles against my chest leaving little hickeys as he catches his breath.

after a minute of just holding onto each other he slowly lowers me to the bed knowing that my legs feel like jelly.

he presses a kiss to my cheek before headed to the bathroom and grabbing us a wet washcloth. he rubs it over my thighs and my stomach and neck before cleaning me up carefully, knowing it helps me cool off afterwards.

"thank you jayj... always so sweet."

"shucks mama dont worry about it, you know ill always take care of you."

after cleaning the both of us up he grabs his muscle tank he was wearing before handing it to me so i can have some coverage while i sleep.

"want me to go out on the couch?" he wondered. always so thoughtful.

"dont be stupid. climb on in big boy."

his stupid sleepy smile is so freakin cute, i hate it.

"night jj."

"night sweetheart. love ya."

i know he says it every time. every night in fact. so why when he tells me that does it put a pit in my stomach?

and just like that, with his arms around me, hes peacefully asleep and im wide awake wondering what the fuck im doing.

#fic recs <3 #dic recs <3 #jj maybank need you by my side #mdni #my writing <3 #jj maybank fics #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #short n sweet

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amusedmuralist · 2 days ago

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alabastercloud:

cephiedvariable:

coelasquid:

rosalarian:

dresdencodak:

Seeing as how I’ve done both the top ten for best and worst superhero costume redesigns, I feel obligated to put my money where my artistic mouth is and take a stab at fixing or updating some of these costumes. I’ve picked five here based on:

It’s a particularly awful outfit that doesn’t fit the character, or

It’s a solid character who just needs some updating or tweaking

I’ll list these in order of “reboot depth:”

5. Starfire

What’s wrong: In the wake of DC’s “new 52” this felt like a no-brainer. Starfire is a decent character who’s always, in my opinion, gotten the short end of the costume stick. I get that she’s supposed to be sexually liberated and somewhat polyamorous, and that’s fine, but dressing like a John Carter’s Princess of Mars-themed stripper doesn’t cut it. Really, up until the Teen Titans cartoon she’s always been in the most awkward and impractical getups for someone fighting crime.

The Fix: I went for the simple route and took some notes from the cartoon (notably the skirt). I wanted to make sure it kept the bubbly, innocent feeling of the character while also hinting at some power (with the exposed arms here). The overall effect is meant to convey someone who’s tough, cheerful and comfortable flying around in the air.

4. Dr. Strange

What’s wrong: I love Dr. Strange, but he’s always had the worst outfits. For a guy who basically hangs out in his house in the West Village, he seems to always wear the most ostentatious getups. He’s not an alien from another planet or from some culture that would dress that way, he’s a grown man who became a wizard well into adulthood. Nothing wrong with having some style while you’re maintaining the balance of the mystic planes.

The Fix: Two parts Vincent Price, one part Christopher Lee and one part Dr. Orpheus, this Dr. Strange is still magical, but with a more coherent design direction.

3. Ms. Marvel

What’s Wrong: Simply put, I think it’s embarrassing for Marvel to showcase a prominent character like Ms. Marvel and have her wearing that outfit. It’s just so tacky, and tells us nothing about the character. Basically they just changed the colors of Jean Grey’s Phoenix costume and exposed more skin. Come on, guys.

The Fix: Since her origins are ostensibly tied with Captain Marvel, I decided to go a route that’s more along the lines of the Ultimate Marvel version of that character, where her abilities come from alien technology rather than vague space magic. The notion that she’s, for example, permanently bound with this technology that she doesn’t fully understand can make for some interesting stories. There can be some potential with this character again with just a little bit of tweaking.

2. Wonder Woman

What’s Wrong: Wonder Woman, in my opinion, is a character that’s always been on the cusp of being really neat but never quite making it like Superman or Batman. Although a feminist pop icon, her origins are too tied up with creator WIlliam Marston’s obsession with bondage. Because of this (and an all-too-frequent parade of poor or sexist writing), she’s never had a solid, progressive design. The 21st century can update this character.

The Fix: One part Thor, three parts Xena. I’d push the mythological angle further. Just as nobody thinks of Thor as “Superman with a hammer” I don’t want Wonder Woman to be “girl Superman,” as she’s sometimes seen. I’ve also tweaked her origin slightly, making her a more literal “statue come to life.” This isn’t as extreme as it seems: in regular canon, Wonder Woman’s origin was that she was formed out of clay by the queen of the Amazons, and imbued with the powers of the Greek Gods. This, I think offers more story possibilities if she’s less literally human, physically. Her personality would remain the same (nothing more fun than the perspective of an Amazon in the modern world), but we now have an added Pinnochio-style layer.

The costume change is mostly conservative. Because of the strong fetish associations (and overall impracticality for a fighting Amazon), I’ve removed the lasso in favor of more traditional Greek weapons. The overall effect is intended to push Wonder Woman’s core themes further while making her also stand out as more than just “the female superhero.”

1. Superman

What’s Wrong: Since his creation, Superman’s drifted from being a progressive champion for the common man to a patriotic middle-America boyscout who represents the establishment and traditional values. When he was developed in the 30s, Superman was very much a Depression-era hero, mostly going after villains like crooked money lenders and saving people who were being abused by the system. His superpowers came from the fact that he was from a more advanced society, and his morals too were because he was simply a brainier, more sophisticated guy. During and following WW2 and into the Cold War, though, he became an official symbol for American values in particular (it was originally “Truth and Justice,” without “the American Way”). He was now not just an alien, but an alien raised by simple Kansas farmers and his abilities had a more generic “superpower” explanation. This is all fine, really, but I think the original concept is more compelling these days.

The Fix: ”Superman: the Man of Tomorrow, Strange Visitor from Another World.” I really want to push that. First off, Kryptonians should actually look like aliens and not white people. Here I have Kal-El from a race of beings who are essentially post-human (in that they’ve long since merged with technology). They’re strange to our mortal eyes but mean well. I’d keep the “destroyed planet” origin but more heavily emphasize the “non-interference” part of Superman’s mission statement.

If you’ll remember from the 70s movie, his father Jor-El told him he was forbidden to interfere with the course of human history, but when you think about it, that’s kind of vague. What I’ve done is added a Star Trek or Uatu the Watcher kind of prime directive to all advanced species: Kal-El can’t let people know that he’s an alien, nor can he openly interact with them using advanced technology. Still, he’s a compassionate guy and wants to help, so he takes the form of “Superman” to inspire the mortals in a constructive way. Also, the notion that he can take on different forms means that the Clark Kent secret identity need not be as bad as it currently is.

The costume redesign holds to the basic themes but makes it a little more working class. The buttons at the top are meant to invoke overalls, and the sleeves are cut a little higher for someone working with their hands. I’ve removed the spandex and gone with looser fitting slacks, while keeping a short cape and boots, since he’s still an adventurer.

Overall I want to evoke a classic Superman feel while making it a little more modern in its exploration of the sci fi themes. He’s still basically the same guy: an alien from another world looking to fight injustice, but without the overt patriotism and a quirkier execution of the secret identity.

*********************

So there you have it. I’ve hope you’ve enjoyed my superhero costume trilogy!

Part 1: The Best Superhero/Villain Redesigns

Part 2: The Worst Superhero/Villain Redesigns

That Superman is… probably the best redo of Superman I have ever seen, both in looks and backstory. Bravo!

cool stuffff

The Starfire is a no brainer, the Dr. Strange is my new unrequited fictional crush, the Wonder Woman is breath-taking and that take on Superman is one thousand degrees of shit I didn’t know I wanted but I would be so comfortable if they uprooted over 70 years of comic book history to change him into this.

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 1 day ago

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BANG-ABLE | Jeon Jungkook | Drabble 1

Summary: When your very curious robot boyfriend finds all of your old sex toys. Pairing: f!reader x Sex Bot Jungkook Word Count: 2k~ Warnings: Smut but that goes without saying for this fic p.s. I put out a mini drabble as well right before this in case you didn't catch it hehe p.p.s I have another temperature play drabble request so keep an eye out for that one in the future 🤭 Requested by an anon 💜

"What are these?" Jungkook asks when he walks into the living room where I'm sat down watching Hidden Love for the fifth time, holding up my little black box that I had hidden away and had completely forgotten about.

"NOTHING!" I say hurriedly, scrambling to get off the couch and tripping over the blanket I was using in the process. I regain my footing, run up to him and reach for the box but he holds it over my head, completely out of my reach.

"Are you cheating on me?" he teases, the objects in the box being ones I used before I got him. "You seriously think I would use those anymore? Now give it here!" I jump but once my fingers just barely touch it he grabs onto my hips to keep me from trying again.

I glare, waiting for him to give them back and when all I'm given is a stupid smug smile I resort to threats. "Give that to me or I will turn you off and make you charge on the floor instead of in bed with me" his eyes widen, not expecting that and deciding to do as I say, handing me the box of various sex toys that could never truly satisfy me.

"Why do you have so many?" he asks, picking up one very elaborate and confusing looking one that I snatch out of his hand immediately and put back in the box, shoving it in the back of my closet.

"Because none of them did everything I wanted them to" I sigh and close the door in hopes to help change the subject. When I try to walk past him though he stops me by wrapping an arm around my waist and bringing me back to stand in front of him.

"I don't know why I asked since I know how needy my baby is" he says, his voice dropping a bit while he places kisses on my neck, knowing that'll help take the edge off.

"Why do you always have to go through my t-things?" I stutter, my resolve of trying to stay upset with him faltering. "Because I wanna know everything about you baby, and that includes all of your dirty little secrets" he says directly into my ear before sucking on the sensitive skin right below.

I shudder at the thought of letting him in that much and I know I will eventually but his want to figure out as many ways as he can to please me on his own is way too fun to experience, no matter how embarrassing it might seem.

"You like that huh? The thought of me knowing everything about you, all your deepest darkest desires that you haven't even dared to say out loud. My baby likes to hide that away huh? Too afraid to even tell me what she wants sometimes. That's pretty selfish don't you think?" he says, his grip on my waist tightening when he pulls me closer, his sensors picking up on my arousal and in turn hardening his length for me to use as I see fit.

"Why don't you let me use some of those on you tonight hm? Or better yet, let me watch you use them to get yourself off. I bet you'd look adorable, so frustrated and begging for release but never quite getting exactly what you wanted" he says but I shake my head.

"Too cold, want you" his presence tonight being one that drove me into submission so easily. I can't help but become putty in his hands sometimes. He was made for me and knows exactly what I like so why not give into what his programing is telling him to do to me.

"Aw, too cold for you? Needed me to warm you up?" he says, his condescending way of talking to me one of the easiest ways to tip me into that submissive headspace, only with him though. With him things are different. With him I know I'm safe.

I nod my head and my lip juts out the slightest bit leaving him running his thumb along it before I decide to open my mouth and run my tongue across it. His robotic pupils dilate as if they were human and the next second I'm on my back on my bed, him hovering over me with that sexy smug look on his face.

"Does my pretty baby want something?" he asks, caressing my cheek with a featherlight touch, and I blink up at him, still reeling from his sudden actions. He hums as a way to get my attention on him again, wanting me to answer his question.

"Want you" I say, hoping he'll accept my simple answer but I know he won't settle for that. "You've gotta be a little more specific love" he teases making me huff. "Oh come on, be a good girl for me and tell me what you want hm?" he mumbles and peppers kisses all along my neck and collarbone, having worn just a tank top and shorts today.

His hands heat up and run along my skin, warming me up just like he said he would but suddenly his hands turn ice cold, making me push him away but as always he doesn't budge at all.

"What the matter love?" he taunts, his hands quickly going back to a normal temperature. "Don't do that" I scowl, not liking the sudden change. "Lemme play around a bit yeah? Wanna try something" he says, clearly ignoring my scolding.

I squint my eyes at him when he looks down at me, a stupidly tempting look on his face. "Just trust me" he says, leaning down to mumble it against my lips, just barely kissing me before pulling back and looking at me again for confirmation.

After thinking for a couple more seconds I nod my head and he tongues his cheek, a habit that he picked up from who knows where but something that's become so sexy to me and he knows it.

He helps me strip out of my clothes and lets out a groan in approval, running his fingers through my folds.

"Baby is so wet for me already and I've barely done anything. How adorable. Been waiting all day for me to touch you huh?" he says, watching as my mouth falls open when he applies pressure on my clit just how I like it, tracing circles around it and alternating with just barely dipping a finger into my entrance, never giving me what I really want, playing with me just like he said he would.

When his fingers start to touch me with more precision, one finger pumping inside of me while his thumb circles my clit I feel that same chill run though my body and I realize his hands have gone cold inside me making me yelp and back away from him but he growls and uses his other hand to grip my hip pinning me down on the bed to keep me from moving.

"Stay still for me love, promise it'll feel good" he says and I decide to trust him. He knows what my body wants and what it can handle, the signs to look out for to know what's going on in my head.

"So good for me" he says, kissing me and starting to pump his fingers in and out of me again, adding a second one right away but switching the temperature back to a warmer one to help with the stretch.

Once he starts to feel that I've gotten used to the intrusion he changes the temperature just cold enough so I can feel it, my back arching as the only way I can move about since he's still got my hips pinned against the mattress.

"Shh I know I know. You can take it though, it's just a little cold love" he coaches, his cold fingers dragging along my warm walls making me wince. "This is w-why I stopped using them, t-too cold" I admit although I already had before, hoping that in some way that would make him stop but he doesn't.

"You know I'll take care of you though" he says, the temperature of his fingers changing back to normal now, giving me a bit of a breather but soon he's pulling them out of me making me wince for another reason.

"Where are you going?" I whine but he only laughs and gets off the bed to take off his clothes before crawling back on top of me. "My baby is so impatient, aren't you?" he chuckles, settling between my legs and dragging his tip along my folds, his brows furrowed in concentration while collecting my slick and rubbing it all over his cock.

"Just put it in already, please" I basically cry out, the temperature play leaving me incredible sensitive and he knows it, not letting up with this sick form of torture. He places his tip against my entrance, not pushing in and just teasing my hole and when I open my mouth to protest he shoves himself into me, knocking the wind out of me, his response a hum, clearly satisfied with the results of his actions.

"Couldn't even wait for me to fuck you like I wanted to, needed my cock in you so bad that you couldn't even shut up and wait. Thought you wanted to be good for me tonight" he grunts, slamming into me at a relentless pace, his robotic strength being unparalleled in bed. I sob, the intensity and the need to catch my breath overwhelming me in the best way possible but when he chances the temperature of his dick I'm screaming for him to change it back.

"Stop running" he growls, grabbing my hips and sitting back on his heels so he can fuck me onto him, pushing and pulling my hips so fast making my breasts bounce up and down. "Fuck play with your tits. Wanna ruin you but my baby can lend me a hand or two can't she?" he says, talking down to me like I'm fucking stupid when I clearly am, cock drunk and barely able to see straight.

I slowly bring my hands up my torso, ghosting my fingers along my breasts, "S-shit" he stutters, his programing really playing the part and making me moan at his reaction. "Play with your nipples baby, get them nice and hard for me" he says, his hands dragging my hips back and forth making his length disappear inside of me over and over, never ceasing making my cock drunk mind go blurry, my reaction speed severely diminished.

He decides to give me a breather, stopping his movements and putting his fingers in my mouth, my lips closing around them right away. "Make a mess baby" he say, encouraging me to get them as wet as possible, my tongue swirling around them, a pool of saliva now gathered and making a complete mess, exactly how he wanted.

He takes them out of my mouth and my brows furrow, not wanting to stop since the approving gaze he gave me while I did it being something I didn't want to give up just yet. He chuckles and rubs his fingers together, making sure his thumb, pointer and middle finger are covered before using them to play with my nipple making me whine at the harsh pressure.

"Shh it's okay, I got you" he coaches, the cold temperature making my nipples harden painfully, goosebumps now present all over my body.

"My baby gets so cold so easily. Want me to warm you up again?" he taunts and I nod my head, the rate of his thrusts though making it difficult to decipher but he knows and so he switches to a warmer temperature making me sigh in delight. It quickly goes from too cold to way too warm making me moan in delight, the scorching temperature being painfully pleasurable.

"Don't worry baby, it's not gonna leave a mark, I wouldn't hurt my pretty girl. Unless she wanted me to" he says, the offer enticing enough to make me think twice but I shake my head 'no' and he take it. "Baby doesn't wanna be branded? That's okay, I'll take good care of you" he coos and that he does.

Over and over and over.

Drabble Masterlist

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strawberryblue-blog · 3 days ago

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A to Z —Jude Bellingham.

summary: NSFW alphabet with Jude.

warning: YES. +18. smut, headcanon.

words count: +1k.

A - after care (what is it like after sex?)

Too clingy. He likes to hug, ask, laugh, play, touch your skin. He won't move from your side until you fall asleep on him.

B - body part (favorite part of your body and his)

On him, his back, shoulders or arms, he works them a lot and likes to show them off. His muscles are one of his most attractive features. On you, you little hands trying to hold on tight to him or your innocent look when you kneel for him. He loves it.

C - cum (anything about cumming)

He always prefers to come inside you while you are on birth control, he wouldn't like it any other way because he LOVES ending up inside you. That's why he usually accompanies you to checkups and reminds you to do everything right so you can feel close to each other, without jeopardizing any possibility.

D - dirty secret (some dirty secret).

Fucking you in public places, like the locker room or some part of the stadium, out of sight of people but knowing that they are in the vicinity.

E - experience (experience in sex)

Enough, he is still young and has a lifetime to learn. So he only knows the basics but that doesn't mean he's basic, he does a perfect job.

F - favorite position (to fuck you)

Missionary to have control of everything. Your tits, your clit, your eyes, your mouth, your neck, he likes to be in control.

G - goofy (how serious is he during sex?)

He could be a bit annoying at times, he likes to tease a lot and is usually quite playful.

H - hair (how do he/you take care of his/your privacy?)

He doesn't cut it off completely, he likes to have a little bit makes him feel more of a man according to him. In your, honestly he doesn't care as long as you feel comfortable.

I - intimacy (what is it like during sex?)

He's wild. He's brutish, desperate and not at all gentle. Literally, an ANIMAL.

J - jack off (masturbation, how much do he/you masturbate?)

He tends to do it often especially when you're not there. It helps him to lower stress and like any young man, he likes to get to know his own body.

K - kink (fetishes during sex)

Sticking his fingers in your mouth, spitting in your mouth, biting your mouth, anything involving your mouth and lips. He loves them.

L - location (places to have sex)

Any place for Jude. Bed, kitchen, couch, car, even small spaces. If he wants to fuck you, he'll do it anywhere.

M - motivation (what excites him/you?)

Because of his age and how hormonal he can be, he tends to turn you on pretty easily with the bare minimum. But if you walk around the house naked, wearing only his T-shirts, Jude won't be able to hold back and will end up fucking you.

N - no (what wouldn't he do with you?)

No to sharing you. He could never let anyone else touch you, or even look at you. He's kind of possessive and jealous.

O - oral (how does he like to give/receive?)

He likes to receive because he is obsessed with your mouth and the way you suck him off. He loves it when your eyes water and your throat chokes on his cock. But he's also a great giver, he really knows how to use his tongue.

P - pace (how do he like to do it?)

Hard, deep and without mercy. Nothing more to clarify.

Q - quickie (do he like quick sex?)

Yes. Anything that involves being inside you is a yes for Jude.

R - risk (would he take risks? which ones?)

He likes to feel the adrenaline rush of being discovered, he gets a little hot at the idea of someone discovering them but would be a little embarrassed. Although he prefers to try it and then they will see if they will take the risk again.

S - stamina (how long does it last during sex?)

Two or three rounds depending on how tired you are. Sometimes it can make you scream all night long, sometimes just one fuck will satisfy you.

T - toy (use toys)

No. As I said before he is quite jealous and anything that can give you more pleasure than him would piss him off. So he wouldn't use them and if he ever caught you with them he would punish you.

U - unfair (how much does he like to provoke you?)

Too much. He's a dirty boy, he likes to provoke you to the limit, make you beg, despair and scream for him.

V - volume (how loud is it during sex?)

It's a bit vocal because of how hard he can be, it's inevitable not to moan or gasp loudly while he fucks you like crazy. Obviously for you, it is too.

W - wild card (small random story)

“What is this?” the question reached your ears as you combed your hair in the bathroom. Jude appeared behind you with the red velvet square box, confused.

“It's nothing” you said trying to take it from his hands but he was quicker and put his hands up high. “Jude, give it to me” you mumbled embarrassed.

With your little hops you tried to take it but Jude opened it high up, pulling out the object inside. Her fingers held the sensual black lingerie you had ordered a few days ago.

Your mouth fell open wide as you noticed the tiny threads of the lingerie, only covered with thin black lace.

“Damn, baby” he gasped in surprise.

“It was a surprise!” you squealed crossing your arms across your chest as you pretended to be angry. “Now you've ruined everything!”

Jude's mischievous look made you blush, as he looked down at the contents in his hands again. So much so that it embarrassed you and you took it out of his hands walking out of the ante room.

“Bebeee” he moaned touching you from the waist as you tried to put the underwear away in your drawer. “Put it on” she asked in your ear.

His body pressed against yours and you felt his bulge in your ass. His lips licked your lobe making you bristle and gasp at the feel of his touch. You pulled them out again and pushed him down on the bed, walking to the bathroom to get dressed in your lingerie. When you finished putting it on, you looked at yourself in the mirror, feeling all the power and confidence in you. Then you walked back out of the bathroom.

Jude was just as you had left him, breathing heavy on the bed with his pants tight in his crotch. When he saw you, his eyes flashed like lights, he bit his lip and you can play you saw his cock jump in his pants.

“Fucking sexy in that lingerie” he moaned as you stood in front of him. His lips kissed your belly as they caressed his hair, he licked your skin and held your ass squeezing it tightly.

“Too bad they'll go too fast, baby” he murmured before grabbing the tiny strings and pulling them until they ripped, leaving you completely naked.

X - x-ray (how big is it and how?).

It's big. Thick, veiny, long. It's perfect and Jude knows exactly how to use it.

Y - yearning (how long can desire last?

He tends to have quite a high sexual appetite even more so when he comes home from big games, trips abroad or when they don't see each other much because of their respective jobs.

Z - zzz (how is his sleep after sex?)

He tends to be a little fussy before bed, he likes to cuddle, talk and play but he will fall asleep faster than you think if he is very tired. He'll probably try to wait for you but he'll fall asleep anyway, he needs to regain his energy after fucking you like he should.

#football imagines #imagine #football one shot #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagine #real madrid

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daisymbin · 3 days ago

Note

is it possible to request a combo from 2 of the suggestive prompts? 32 and 42 for mingyu x f!reader <3

yes you can!!! omg this is such a good combo...hopefully I did it justice 😅 thank you for requesting!!!

+ please MDNI!!!! this is quite...suggestive?

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // gyu's m.list

suggestive prompt #32: "I think we'd both be more comfortable if you took that off." +

suggestive prompt #42: "I love it when you get all worked up."

the apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional clink of a glass. you were sitting on mingyu's bed at his parent's place, scrolling through your phone when mingyu came in; shirtless with a towel around his waist, his hair still damp from the shower. he looked at you for a moment, his eyes soft but intense.

you barely noticed him at first, too focused on whatever was on your screen, until you heard his voice—low and teasing. “you look good in that,” he said, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk.

“hm?” you blinked, looking up to find him grinning at you. your eyes dropped to the loose, oversized t-shirt you were wearing. it wasn’t anything special, just something comfortable. “this old thing?”

mingyu nodded, pushing himself off the frame and walking toward you. “yeah.” his voice dropped an octave, and the way his eyes darken as they roamed your body made a shiver run down your spine.

you didn’t expect him to be so forward, not after just a simple shower. but his words stirred something in you. you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and desire swirling inside you.

“mingyu…” you started, feeling your pulse quicken as he moved closer. his hands brushed against the side of your knee as he knelt down in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours. his lips hovered just inches from your ear, warm breath making you shiver.

“what?” he murmured, a playful glint in his eye. “don’t tell me you’re shy now.” his hands slid up your legs, his thumbs rubbing small circles on the inside of your thighs.

you let out a soft breath, unable to form a response as his lips traced the line of your jaw. your body was already betraying you, heart racing, breath hitching with every subtle touch. “mingyu, please,” you whispered, a mix of want and hesitation in your voice. “your parents- we can’t…”

“can’t what?” he asked, pulling away slightly to look you in the eye, his expression full of challenge and something more. “tell me what you want, baby.” his thumb brushed against your lower lip, making you lean into his touch without thinking.

you swallowed, the desire bubbling inside you. “i want you,” you whispered, barely audible.

“good,” mingyu muttered as he let out a small smile, his lips crashing against yours before you could say another word. his kiss was deep, heated, the kind that left you breathless and wanting more. his hands roamed over your body, slipping underneath the hem of your shirt, his fingertips brushing against your skin, sending sparks of heat wherever he touched.

his kisses grew more insistent as he pulled you closer, your bodies pressing together, the only thing separating you being the thin fabric of your clothes. you could feel the tension building between you, the way his hands kept finding their way to places they shouldn’t be.

“gyu…” you gasped, trying to catch your breath, but his lips moved to your neck, and you couldn’t stop the quiet moan that escaped your lips.

“i love it when you get all worked up like this,” he said, his voice a mix of amusement and desire. “it drives me crazy.” his hands slid up to your back, tugging your shirt over your head as his hands move quickly; unhooking your bra effortlessly as if he’d done it a hundred times.

your breath hitched as the fabric fell away, leaving you exposed to him. his eyes darkened, his pupils blown wide with lust as he took in the sight of you. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his hands tracing your curves with an almost reverent touch.

you couldn’t help but lean into him, the heat between you both too much to ignore. “mingyu… we—”

“shh,” he cut you off with a soft press of his lips to yours, his body moving against yours in a way that made your thoughts scatter. his kisses were hot, demanding, as if he couldn’t get enough of you, and you were all too happy to give him more.

“i think we’d both be more comfortable if you took that off, don't you think?" mingyu said again, a playful smirk sneaks his way to the corner of his lips as his hands ran down your sides, tugging at your shorts.

you were about to protest, but before you could say anything, mingyu was kissing you again, his hands sliding down to your waist, tugging you closer. the moment felt too intense, too real, and you could feel every inch of him against you, every touch igniting something deep within.

his hands traveled lower, tracing the line of your hips, before pulling you onto his lap. your body shifted instinctively, feeling the heat from his chest radiating into yours, the tension crackling in the air between you.

“you have no idea how much i want you right now,” he breathed, his lips brushing against your ear as you tangled your fingers in his hair. you could feel the pulse of his heartbeat under your fingertips, the desire that was mirrored in your own.

“then show me,” you whispered, pressing your body closer to his.

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sugurusfavemonkey · 3 days ago

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A Helping Hand (Part 2) read part 1 here summary: after a long winding wait you and Gojo finally take your relationship to bed the next level. pairing: Satoru Gojo x reader word count: 4.5k warnings: MDNI; fluff and love confessions, cursing, oral (female receiving), creampie (this is a work of fiction, wrap it before you tap it irl!); rough s&x; canon divergence - both Gojo and reader are over 18 when Gojo takes in the Fushiguro siblings.

a/n: I lied, put your clothes back on... we're going on a fluff ride (roughly 1.6k words) before the sexy bits make an appearance (the other 2.9k), because, apparently, I cannot control myself once I start writing.

Unfortunately for you and Gojo, things did NOT progress as expected that night.

Tsumiki insisted they should help you with the cleaning after dinner and dessert and then launched into an animated retelling of the debate club happenings earlier that day as she dutifully dried the dishes you handed her.

It was many hours later before the kids finally were ready for bed.

You put both of them to their beds with a parting forehead kiss for each - the embarrassed blush on Megumi's cheeks never failing in making you chuckle.

By then you were exhausted, hand covering a big yawn that had Satoru laughing.

He threw his arm over your shoulders, using the leverage to pull you away from the kids' bedroom as he closed the door behind you with his other hand.

"Tired, sweets?"

"Completely wiped." you admitted, letting your head fall onto his shoulder, the realization of just how well you fit under his arm making you giddy "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Well, I guess I just wanted to have a wild night of rowdy pleasure with my new boyfriend, but I can't even fathom the idea of keeping up with his stamina right now."

"This boyfriend of yours sounds like a dream." Satoru's casual comment made you snort with constrained laughter. The man really had the greatest ego you'd ever seen.

"Except when he's being a self-centered dimwit." You tried to untangle yourself from under his arm, but Satoru had a different idea. You momentarily thought you were falling until the realization that he had reached his free arm underneath your knees and picked you up before you had time to protest set. A yelp of surprise the only noise you managed to release as you threw your own arms around his neck for support.

"I'm sure he has good reason to think so highly of himself." Satoru spoke as he rearranged his hold to support your weight with one arm under your rear in an impromptu display of strength, so he could open the door to the other bedroom.

"Stop praising yourself, Gojo." You chastised, but there was no heat behind your words.

He kicked the door shut behind yourselves as soon as you crossed the threshold. "Nuh-uh. That's Satoru to you. We went over that already."

"Not when you're being insufferable, no." Your words were barely discernible through the yawn you let out as you let yourself relax against him.

"Hmm. Let's get you to bed, sweets."

"Yeah? You gonna do unspeakable things to me in the master bedroom, Gojo?" Your words were slurred, breath fanning teasingly against his neck, eyelids heavy with sleep.

"It's Satoru," he insisted, "and no. Not tonight. Even though I'd like nothing else than just taking you, you're so sleepy you sound drunk right now."

"Look at you being all gentlemanly. I though Nanami was the last one left of those."

"Why are you bringing up Nanamin when we're talking about sex?!" Satoru sounded absolutely disgusted at the notion and you would probably have laughed at that if you had the energy to do so.

"You jealous?" you hummed, eyes already closed.

"Pfff! As if I had any reason to be jealous of that emo nerd."

"I don't know... I think he has his charms." just as you finished uttering the words Satoru unceremoniously dropped you on the bed, "what the fuck, Satoru?!"

"That's for talking about other men in my presence." He huffed, a cute pout on his lips.

"Oh my god, Satoru! Are you really going to be that much of a possessive boyfriend? What did I even get myself into?" There was no way you were letting him live his near tantrum at the mere mention of Nanami down.

"Too late to back off now, sweets." He playfully stated, leaning over you teasingly before dropping to the other side of the bed and making you bounce on the mattress again.

You turned your head, staring at his annoyingly perfect side profile as he brought his hands behind his head and crossed his ankles. You mused his words for a second, focusing specifically on the nickname he used. The pet name Satoru had always used when referring to you

"Why do you always call me that?" Though you always wondered the nickname's origins that was the first time you proffered the question aloud.

"You know how much I love my sweets." His matter-of-fact demeanor threw you in for a loop.

"Who would have thought you could be so corny? I'm serious, Satoru."

"So am I," he turned his head to face you as well, "I think I've loved from the moment we've met." his small confession has your heart stuttering in your chest, your smile faltering a bit at the vulnerability etched to that simple whispered phrase.

"Now, that just can't be true. If I remember correctly, you called me weak and said I'd never be able to keep up with you and Su-" you cut yourself off before you said something that would potentially strike a sour note in an otherwise wholesome occasion.

Still, you weren't fast enough. You saw the moment Satoru's face fell, his expression becoming somber. He looked away from you and cleared his throat.

"Yeah, well... everyone is weak compared to me."

You sighed bitterly, annoyed at yourself for spoiling the moment.

The heavy silence that fell over you begged to be ruptured, so you did just that:

"I shouldn't ha-"

"You're not-"

Apparently Satoru had the same idea because the both of you started at the same time, pausing once you realized the other was also talking. Satoru was the one to break the repeated tense quiet following the sudden standstill:

"I was wrong. You're not weak. You never were." his voice was quiet, serious. So different to his usual laidback disposition. It was a night for many firsts, it seemed.

"I mean, I'll never really get anywhere near your level." You shrugged, showing you understood his point.

"Still. You are strong. You're efficient and resourceful. And you care. You care so much sometimes I'm scared you'll wear yourself thin." Somehow you knew he wasn't just talking about your prowess as a sorcerer. "Just like- just like him."

"Satoru. Baby. Look at me." You pleaded, turned your entire body this time and tenderly grasped his chin, coaxing him into looking your way once more.

"I'm not leaving." You stared intently into his impossibly blue eyes as you made the vow. "You won't get rid of me that easily."

His hand found yours on his face and gently entwined your fingers before guiding them to his lips, where he placed a soft kiss to your knuckles.

You're not sure if he ever said anything in reply because you soon doze off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

Satoru was no longer in bed with you when you woke up the next morning to a chime on your phone.

You sighed and sprawled onto your back, hand skimming over your face to find creases in the shape of the ruffled pillowcase under your head and a bit of dried drool at the corner of your lips before finally picking up the offending gadget to find 4 new messages from one strongest hoe🫸🟣:

Leave it to Satoru to make you go from embarrassed to delighted in less than a minute.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

You spent the rest of your Saturday with Megumi and Tsumiki, thankful you weren't summoned for anything. You were suspicious that had something to do with Gojo, he probably took on more curses just to spare you - it would explain the two whole days of a job when he usually handled curses in less than a minute.

Sunday came around and Satoru called you by noon, letting you know he threatened the elders into leaving the two of you free at least up until Monday and also asked Shoko to watch over the kids for the night.

"Huh. The damn curse is tougher than I thought. Gotta go finish this. See ya tonight. Love ya, sweets!" He ended the call before you even processed his words, your heart skipping a beat.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

You had left Tsumiki and Megumi back at the apartment in Saitama with Shoko and went back to your own home in Tokyo to get ready for your first date with Satoru a few hours before.

The clock had just hit 7pm and you were anxiously pacing the living room back and forth when there was a knock to your door. Your feet carried you forward without you even noticing, still lost inside your own head.

"I love you." You snapped as soon as you opened the door for him, immediately regretting the outburst at Satoru's smug face.

"That would have been awkward if it wasn't me. What happened to hello?" He laughed extending the bouquet of red roses in his hands to you.

"You fucking hung up on me before I could say it back and this has been hammering in my head ever since." you explained with a small shrug, cheeks going warm in spite of your attempt at nonchalance as you took the offered flowers to arrange them in a vase.

You put the arrangement on the center of your dinning room table after filling a priori empty container with water from the kitchen sink and it wasn't until his hands found your waist and Satoru welded his chest you back that you realized he has followed close behind you as you moved.

"Say that again." his lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, warm breath causing a shiver to run down your spine, your hands falling to the table for support when your knees wobbled.

"Say what exactly?"

"Don't tease me, sweets." His warm lips leisurely glided down with each word. You gasped, head falling back against his shoulder and leaving your neck open to the butterfly kisses he purposefully left to the column of your throat.

"I l-love you, Satoru." You mumbled brokenly.

His grasp on your waist went impossibly tight, his breath stuttering and a low groan erupting from his chest.

"You have no idea what you do to me, sweets."

He sounded absolutely wrecked and the knowledge that you were the one causing Gojo Satoru to lose his cool made you throw your caution to the wind. You pushed your hips back against him and, sure enough, you can feel his hardness pressing back into you.

"Hmm. I think I may have an idea." You crooned teasingly.

"Brat!" He reward your taunt with a bite to the junction of your shoulder to your neck, immediately followed by his tongue lapping away at the harsh sting.

You stretched one arm backwards, hand reaching for the short hair on the nape of his neck as he relentlessly attacked your neck.

"I love you so fucking much, sweets. Have I mentioned how fucking stunning you look right now? I mean, you're always hot, but this look... I just wanna bend you over and fuck you right on this table." there was something nearly unhinged to the way he babbled, like those words had been stuck at his throat for too long and he was finally letting loose.

"And what's stopping you?"

"I don't know, maybe the reservation I made for our dinner in 30 minutes." Even though Satoru tried to stop your advances, the way his hips kept lazily rocking against yours sent a different message. He nuzzled against your neck, inhaling the sweet perfume you sprayed just for him and mumbling something about how you smell good enough to eat under his breath.

"I can't think of a lot of things we can accomplish in 30 minutes."

"Ugh! You'll be the death of me. I'm trying to be responsible for once here!" He nearly whined.

You turned around in his grasp and had to crane your head to look into his eyes with the way he looms over you "Gojo. I don't need you to be responsible or a fancy restaurant date to make this real. I think we're way past that anyway. I just need you."

He seemed conflicted, eyes searching yours through the dark lenses of the sunglasses still perched to his nose.

"Please."

"Fuck it." Your last plea was all it took to break his resolve.

In a flash, Satoru had hoisted you up and sat you at the edge of the table, slotting himself in between your parted legs and lips taking yours possessively, his tongue shoving itself into your mouth, savoring your taste. His hands were suddenly all over you, sliding and grabbing at you like he owns you. You readily opened up for him.

When you finally did part ways, you felt his thumb tracing your swollen bottom lip. He stared at the skin, glistening with your mixed saliva in a daze for a moment before his eyes flicked up to meet yours.

"I wanna taste you. Will you let me taste you, sweets?" Satoru's hands found and toyed with the button to your pants, eyes begging silently for your assent.

You nodded mutely, throat suddenly dry.

The green light you gave was all the encouragement he needed to drop to his knees, finger dexterously popping open the button and sliding down the zipper before nearly pawing the offending piece of clothing down your legs. Satoru didn't have the patience to remove your boots, so the cloth remained bunched up at your ankles. He nibbled at the skin of your inner thigh, slowly inching closer to where you needed him the most.

"'toru!" You whined, letting yourself fall back against the table, head knocking loudly against the wood.

"What is it, sweets? What do you want."

"Touch me!"

"But I am touching you."

"You little- Aw!" You complained when he bit into your thigh as a warning, head lifting from the table to glare half-heartedly at the man in between your thighs.

"Watch it." Satoru alerted, a dangerous glint to his electric blue eyes.

"Ugh. Fine." You relented, not wanting to test him that night. You'd have plenty of time for that on other occasion. "Touch my pussy, Satoru."

"Have you no manners?" He rested his cheek against your thigh, his earlier rush hidden beneath his commitment to have you begging for him.

"Pleas- Oh my god!" You bellowed when he finally dove in, practically french kissing your pussy. His tongue easily found your clit, making random shapes against the bundle of nerves that had you seeing stars behind closed eyelids.

He moaned loudly and shamelessly when your hand found purchase on his soft white hair, encouraging you to pull harder as his own fingers dug into the soft skin of your thighs.

Satoru let go of your hips to hitch your legs up, spread your thighs wider and then one of his hands roamed down until he's brushing your entrance, whining pathetically at the slick that gathered on the finger prodding at your hole. The muscles on your thighs tightened in response and you forced yourself up on your elbows so you could take the delicious show playing out down there.

His free hand reached underneath your sweater, slowly gliding upwards, finger teasing the edge of your bra while his mouth changed its path and traveled up and under your sweater, kissing, licking, nibbling at the skin of your tummy and ribs. The comical sight of his head disappearing beneath the warm fabric had a giggle bubbling up at his silliness, but the feeling of the pad of his thumb striking wet and sticky across your clit draws out a sound deep from your chest instead, something sweet and guttural that made Satoru wish he could record to hear over and over again.

Gojo pulled your bra down and didn't waste a second before taking one of your nipples in his warm mouth at the same time he pressed his ring and middle finger into you, curling them upwards to touch that sweet spot and thumb rocking against your clit with each thrust of his hand. You were squirming as he pressed down on your clit just hard enough. A cry left your lips as the fingers of his other hand pinched your nipple.

His actions made it seem as if he's not sure where to touch first, like a man starved, Satoru needs to feel all of you.

Without warning, he popped out from under the sweater, raising himself up and using both hands to reach for the offending piece of clothing and pulling it up and off of you before reaching behind your back for the clasp of your bra. You sat up again to help him remove it as he slid the straps down your arms.

"You're so hot." Satoru sounded winded, wide eyes traveling all over your body in awe.

"Toru. I need you, please." You begged when you could no longer take his gawking.

Satoru smirked deviously and you nearly regretted pleading with him, knowing he was scheming something.

"I Got you, sweets" was all he said before abruptly picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder, hand smacking your ass with a resounding slap sound. Your shriek only making him laugh. "Let's move this to bed so I can fuck you into the mattress."

Soon you joined in on his laughter even as he jolted you around. Just as it has always been, Satoru had a way of making any moment with you lighter.

When you reached your bedroom he thoughtfully placed you on the mattress, kneeling by the bed to help you with your boots and finally remove the pants and underwear that has still been stuck at your ankles up until then.

Once you were completely bare you expected him to do the same. Instead, he passed you by and sat down against the headboard, patting his lap excitedly when you twisted around to follow his movements with a curious gaze.

"You're still too dressed, Toru." You frowned.

"Yeah, and? Come here before I make you, brat."

Even though you were unsure of what he had planned, you trusted Satoru enough to do as he told you to. You got up and walked around the bed, slightly sheepish at your state of undress, but the astonished look on his face gave you enough confidence to move forward.

You went to sit on his lap, but Gojo was faster, hands picking you up by your waist and settling you down, knees on each side of his legs, so you have no choice but to settle your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself balanced.

Satoru hummed in delight as he pushed you back and forth until you got the idea. You braced your hands against his chest, your hips taking up the rocking against his hard length through his dress pants, your bare slit dripping all over his bulge.

“That’s it, sweets,” Satoru grunted, eyes hungrily following your movement “Get yourself nice and wet and ready for me. Rub your sweet little cunt all over my cock.” At his urging, you rolled your hips harder, eyes falling closed as you took your pleasure from his body.

Your knees spread even further so you could press down on him harder, your slick staining his pants.

When you opened your eyes, you found Satoru's blue stare already on you, an overjoyed smile etched onto his face.

"I'm gonna fuck you so deep you're gonna be feeling me for weeks."

You moaned at the dark promise, unconsciously speeding up your hips as your hands grasped the lapels of his shirt in tight fists.

"Does the thought turn you on, sweets?" His hips thrust up from below, forcing another moan from your lips. "Having your pussy so abused you can still feel it for days on end afterwards?"

“Oh god,” you moaned, letting your head loll back. But Satoru wasn’t having none of that. He brought his hand to your throat, tugging your head until you had no choice but to meet his blazing gaze.

"Hmmm... I wanna feel you, Toru." You sobbed, desperate for more. “I need it—I need you, please.”

In an instant, Satoru had pushed you onto your back, one of his hands pinning you to the bed by your throat as he forcefully snapped his hips against yours, your head towards the foot of the bed.

You reached up, yanking at the buttons of his shirt and pulling it free from his slacks with a hushed demanding "off."

"I should have know you would be bossy even when underneath me." He chuckled, letting go of you momentarily to shrug off the shirt. Meanwhile, you went for his belt, deft fingers unbuckling it before unbuttoning and pulling the zipper on his pants down. "Eager much?"

"Satoru. We've been dancing around each other for years, you can't blame me for being impatient now."

"Trust me. I get it." He licked his lips, eyes damn near burning a path through your skin as his gaze travelled your form. "You have no idea how many times I've pictured you just like that, naked and wet for me."

"Yeah? You jacked off to the thought of me?" Your pleased smile was not lost on him.

"Like I said, so many times." Satoru admitted unashamedly. "And I gotta say... the real thing is even better than I imagined."

You wanted to giggle at the notion the both of you had unknowingly been pining for each other at the same time for so long, but the sound got stuck in your throat when he finally bared himself to you.

Nothing could have prepared you for the sight of him bare. You watched intently as he hastily stood up to kick off his shoes before pushing his pants, underwear and socks down and throwing it all behind himself. Revealing corded thighs and a magnificent long, twitching cock, so big you were glad you were wet and ready for him.

A soft smirk played on your lips as he leaned over you, one knee between your legs, arms caging you in against the comforter.

He gripped his cock and rubbed the bulbous tip up and down your slit, teasing your clit and making you whimper. You rocked your hips up against his dick, trying to find the angle to take him inside you. When that didn’t work, you resorted to begging, whimpering, “I'm so empty. I need you inside me, please Toru."

"Yeah, want me to fill you up sweets?"

You nodded, tangling your legs behind him and attempting to draw him in. For once in your life, you cursed his superior strength, because he sure was having a great time making you desperate for his cock.

“Toru,” you cried with a gasp, your arms around his neck trying to pull him closer, "Please!”

"Since you asked so nicely..."

Satoru captured your lips, pouring his passion and desire for you into a searing kiss. As his lips slid against yours, he pressed the tip against your entrance.

He drank down your sounds of pleasure as he pushed inside you, inch by inch. You broke away with a gasp when it became too much.

"You're taking me so well, sweets." He mumbled almost incoherently.

Brows knitted and thighs trembling, your eyes didn’t leave his as you basked in the shattering, yet sublimely pleasurable sensation, slowly allowing yourself to relax around him.

Gentle caresses of his thumb to your tight nub made you feel like the smallest push could tip you over edge and into ecstasy. Tight circles that didn't relent until he could bury himself inside you entirely, the air getting punched out of your lungs once he bottomed out.

"Fuck. So tight for me." Satoru remarked with a low moan at the feeling of your walls firmly hugging his dick. "You good?" He checked when you didn't say anything.

"Y-yeah. You can move."

He started off slow but worked up to a gentle but intense rhythm soon enough, wanting you to be comfortable above anything else.

"You feel so fucking good." Satoru praised, one hand moving to hold onto your wrists and push them together against the bed above your head.

"Satoru. Don't stop. Please, don't stop." You begged.

"Don't worry." He rasped, "I don't plan to stop any time soon." timing the words with each frantic drive of his hips, gradually picking up speed until you felt his heavy sack slapping feverishly against you.

His girth stretched you out and filled you to the brink with each hard stroke until there were tears trickling down your cheeks as you drowned in the overwhelming pleasure of it.

"You crying?" Satoru quipped, peering down at you with a smirk.

You swore you would have slapped him if your hands weren't being held down by the very man torturing you with delectation. You couldn't even respond, only unintelligible garble spilling past your lips.

"What? Have a fucked you dumb, sweets?"

Instead of allowing you time to recoup, Satoru gave into whatever restraint had been holding him back and lost himself in the pleasure of your warmth, thrusting with abandon. He just kept going until your moans turned into cries, the lewd and sloppy sonance of your coupling reverberating throughout the otherwise quiet room. His free hand rubbing at your clit and, too fast for your liking, sending your body straight to cloud nine.

Satoru let his forehead rest against yours while he rutted into your body.

The pleasure you felt so grand it had you unconsciously trying to scoot away, but Satoru was unwavering in his foraging, "Nuh-uh, come back here." he mumbled, dropping kiss after kiss to your lips.

"I-I can't. It's too much. Too bi-big!"

"You can do it, sweets. You're doing so-" He moaned, "good. You can give me one more. C'mon."

The grasp keeping your hands in place relented as his fingers extended, entwining with yours and making the experience that much more meaningful.

Your free hand went straight to his back, nails finding residence sliding down his back, a move which rewarded you with a hiss from the white haired sorcerer. Your legs wrapped around the backs of his thighs helped you meet him thrust for thrust, the two of you writhing together in a frenzy.

He looked at you like you were something meant to be cherished, his lips finding yours with wordless devotion, his tongue slipping into your mouth to slide against yours decadently.

It wasn't long before your eyes were rolling back into your skull and you sensed your thighs begin to tremble once more as you fell over the edge, white heat running through your veins and stars exploding in your vision. Satoru let go once he felt your walls fluttering widely against his cock and buried himself inside with a final thrust forward, warm ropes of cum painting your insides as he traded the firm motions of his thumb with a gentle bit of contact and, finally, halting it all to a complete standstill.

He fell forward, but still made sure not to completely crush you against the bed in a sweaty and jumbled pile.

Your thighs were still quivering when Satoru slid out of you and turned the both of you around so you lied on top of him, his fingers brushing against the skin of your back soothingly.

"Holy fuck." it's all you can say at first.

"Second that."

And then you're both laughing breathlessly, because there's so much love and happiness and oxytocin laden in that moment that you just feel high on it.

"I can't believe we haven't done this before." Satoru chortled, dropping a tender kiss to your head. "How am I suppose to get anything done now?"

"Get your head out of the gutter!" You chastised half-heatedly "I need some time to recover in between sessions. Speaking of which... I'm kinda hungry right now. Is it too late for that reservation now?"

"By nearly two hours, I'd say."

"Whatever. We can just order in."

a/n: this was much harder than I thought it would be to write. How do smut writers do it regularly??

#mavi writes #gojo x reader #jjk fanfic #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fluff #jjk fluff

195 notes · View notes

gothghostiie · 3 days ago

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replaying some of mwii and price saying "slow and steady" has given me price teaching babysitter!reader how to suck cock brain worms

cw: oral/handjob (reader giving), Virgin/inexperienced! reader, implied age gap, facial, corruption kink if you squint, gn!reader

you're so fucking inexperienced, it almost makes him feel bad for getting as hard as he does when you look at him with those pretty eyes. you look at him with trust and admiration, his baby on your hip making it even worse. he wants to grab you, kiss you, manhandle you, fucking hell, if he could he'd press you face down into his pillow and take your innocence right then and there. but he had to go to some spontaneous meeting, he had to fucking leave you. he stays strong, smiling at you and ruffling your hair as he leaves. "behave, yea? both of ya." he says with a wink, your giggle making his cock twitch.

once in the car and on the road he's really debating jacking off so he doesn't have to go into the meeting with a boner, maybe it would even help him later so he doesn't get painfully hard the moment you say hi to him when he's back. he ultimately decides against it, he's a grown man for fucks sake, he needs to control himself. so he goes through the meeting, it gives him some distraction, at least until he's back in the car. it's already dark when he's coming back, quietly unlocking the door. he prays you're asleep so he can just put a blanket over you and let you sleep, but you're awake. you smile brightly as he comes in, a soft "hi Mr. Price!" coming from your lips.

"John." he corrects in a stern but gentle voice, taking off his jacket, it makes you chuckle.

"I'm sorry, John." you say in a teasing tone, sometimes he wonders if you really are this innocent or if you just act like it. but god, if he wasnt as stressed as he was from the god damn meeting his cock would already be hard again. he just sighs and drops on the couch next to you, head fallen back and body slack. you tilt your head with a frown. "whats wrong?" the words make his heart flutter.

"just stressed, is all. dont worry your little head, love." he murmurs, reaching out to gently pat you on the head. you hum a bit.

"is there anything i can do to help you relax?" you ask, his mind immediately down the gutter. he suddenly wants to tell you all the nasty things he wants to do to you, shove your face into his crotch to make you nuzzle his cock, but he just stares at the ceiling for what feels like hours before looking at you. he opens his mouth to speak, but the look on your face makes him stop. your eyes are wide and glued to the bulge in his jeans, your mouth hanging open. his cheeks turn pink in embarrassment, he fumbles with his words.

"bloody hell - fuck, 'm sorry, I-" he pauses as he looks at your face properly. the shock isnt mixed with disgust as he initially thought, oh no. it's the opposite. you look curious, almost intrigued. he holds his breath as you make eye contact, then asks quietly. "do you want to help?" he asks, voice low and husky, filled with anticipation and a bit of fear of rejection. "you don't have to, if you don't wanna." he says gently, making sure you don't feel forced.

"i.. I never.. did anything.." is all you can get out, voice tinged with embarrassment. despite already being very sure you're a Virgin he's still mildly surprised to hear you say it, eyebrows raising a bit.

"I can teach ya. if you want." you hesitate for just a second before nodding, his heart skips a beat.

"okay.." you say softly. he has to take a moment before he nods softly, hands going to his belt and trying to not just rip it open.

"I'll just show you, so you can get familiar with him, yea? if you wanna stop at any point you tell me. understood?" his tone is serious, he waits until you nod before letting his fat cock spring free, slipping his pants and underwear down just enough so you see his heavy balls. your face heats up, mouth dropping open again as you stare at it, the tight balls, the angry, red tip, all have been begging for release for hours, and finally they'll get it. he waits until you seem a bit more composed before reaching his hand to you. "gimme your hand darling." he orders gently, you put your hand into his. your skin feels like heaven under his calloused fingers, even better as he wraps it around his trembling cock. he groans, squeezing your hand as he holds it in place; your fingers can't even fully wrap around it. it twitches eagerly, tip weeping as he guides your hand up and down slowly. low moans escape his lips, eyes lidded as he holds back. "you okay bird?" he pants, his voice a bit more rough than usual.

you nod, your trembling hand slowly moving at your own pace, watching intently. it makes him chuckle, letting go of your hand and putting it on your head, petting you as a silent praise. "doin well, love. keep going for me, yea?" he murmurs, you nod again. his tip starts leaking precum, you bite your lip. "don't do that. your lips are so pretty darlin." he frowns, his own words burning the image of your lips wrapped around his dick into his brain. he hesitates before speaking again.

"want to try sucking it?" he asks gently, your eyes widen. you hesitate again, his hand cups your cheek softly. "don't worry. I'll help ya."

"..okay." you say, taking a breath. his hand slides to the back of your head, guiding you closer - kissing your forehead before guiding you down.

"open your mouth nice and wide. watch your teeth." you open up wide, tongue sticking out a bit, he guides you down just so the tip is in your mouth. "wrap your lips around it." you follow his order and he groans, straining to not cum right this second. he takes a breath before speaking again. "now suck a bit. start gently and slowly do more. run your tongue over it too." he instructs in a soft murmur. "it might taste a little funny." you suck softly and lick the tip, making a face and pulling back. he laughs, patting your head softly. "I warned you darling. that bad?" he grins as you lick your lips.

"no... just.. surprised me.." you admit in embarrassment, taking a deep breath before dipping your head and trying again. this time you don't pull back, John's hand rests on the back of your head as he breaths heavily.

"good job, sweetheart... thinking you can try bobbing ya head a bit?" his jaw is slack, eyes rolled back when you actually do it - way too fast and too deep for your first time. as much as he loves the feeling of his tip hitting the back of your throat, the immediate gag and your face scrunching up in discomfort break his heart. he grabs your head firmly but not roughly, pulling your head up just enough to make you look at him. "don't do that. who taught you that?" he asks sternly, you shrink a bit under his gaze.

he hums. "try again. do it slow and steady." he says lowly, the tone making you shiver. you nod softly, letting him push you down much, much slower, letting him guide your head as your lips wrap around his cock again. "there we go. just like that, bird." he groans, already closer than he wants to be. he slowly guides it deeper into your warm mouth, your adorable attempts at using your tongue making his tip leak again. it doesn't take long before his hips stutter. "fuck... gonna cum, angel..- " he grunts, voice strained as he pulls you back, free hand wrapping around the base of his cock to steady himself as he cums all over your face. you gasp loudly, eyes shut tied and mouth open in shock as the warm, sticky liquid hits your skin. his moans quickly turn into chuckle as he sees the state of you. "aw, sweetheart, are you alright?" he cackles, shaking his head.

still chuckling he reaches to the coffee table and grabs a tissue, wiping your face off quickly before pulling you to his chest, kissing your head. "there you are, good job darlin. you okay?" he asks again, rubbing your back as you nod. "good... I'll get you a cup of water."

───── ⋆⋅Taglist⋅⋆ ─────

@captainchrisstan @maplewhisk

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luveline · 3 days ago

Note

missing spencer x stripper reader these days

—Spencer visits the strip club unannounced. fem, 1.1k

Spencer can’t be clinical about it forever. You’re a sex worker. He doesn’t care, but he can’t ignore it when you look like that.

You’re standing by the bar slouched backward, your abdomen bent forward, an unsexy position if you were to ask a patron, but weirdly endearing from where Spencer’s standing. Your heels are completely clear. He can see your toes, their painted nails, and the bandaid on the back of your foot where you twist. “Can I have another water, please?” you ask.

The lingerie is blue. Spencer loves blue. Three pieces, a bra, underwear, and a suspender belt holding stockings the colour of your skin. He knows this is just work, that he’s not being a good friend thinking about how pretty you really look, but it’s not just pretty. His ears start burning the longer he sees it. You shift your weight from one foot to another and your thighs looks soft.

You take your new glass of water and press yourself flush to the wall. Then you level your gaze and see Spencer watching you, expression jumping from happy to confused to knowing.

“Hey, Spencer,” you call, hard to hear over the music pounding and the sound of men jeering at to the left near the big stage. “Are you here to see me, or is it a pleasure trip?”

He clears his throat as discreetly as possible and makes his way to you. The heels make you taller, your legs longer, and the lingerie reveals simple things he doesn’t often think about, the shapes of your breasts, the curve of your sides, your hips leading down… Oh, god, he thinks, feeling sorrier than sorry.

“You okay?”

“I came to ask you that.”

You frown, perturbed. “Why?”

“You didn’t answer your phone. I just wanted to make sure everyone was still being nice to you.”

Your frown softens but doesn’t fade. “It’s broken.”

See, he’d believe you, but you used to wear this Tiffany necklace with a soft bevelled heart around your neck until recently, when you told Spencer you lost it, and showed him your second tell. When you’re in pain, your hands tend to strain from you, pushed out and fingers curling. When you lie, you smile too soon, and your eyes catch on the freckles on his nose.

He pulls open his messenger back and sorts through papers for the black and silver mobile. It’s his emergency phone; should something ever happen to the first, he still wants to be able to contact the outside world. “Here,” he says, offering it to you.

You’re still. “I can’t take your phone.”

“It’s a spare. A burner phone? I bought it for emergencies, and this could be one.”

“Spencer, I can’t…”

“Please, will you? I’ll get another one.”

You need a phone. Maybe ten years ago you could get by without one, but you need a phone to arrange bills, talk to your landlord, your boss, your doctor, whatever. Being without one in an emergency could mean bad things.

You take it, biting the inside of your cheek.

“It’s not very fast,” he says. “There’s a prepaid sim in there for now, but I can get you a real one.”

“I can do that. Thank you, Spencer. I’ll pay you back.”

“I don’t want you to pay me back,” he says with a real smile.

“I could pay you back… with a dance?” You lean across to tap his elbow. “I saw you looking at me, Spencer Reid. We can go somewhere private.”

Suddenly, it’s like the air in the room is being sucked out, leaving him, and you, and your beautiful bare skin alone in a tight space.

He raises the arm you’ve tapped to tap you back. “You’re beautiful,” he says, sure you can see the blood in his cheeks, “but I don’t need anything from you. I want you to have the phone because I know you walk home by yourself most nights, it’s not so you owe me. You don’t owe me anything.”

He shouldn’t have added that last part. He’s worried you’ll be angry with him for saying something that might embarrass you, but you give him a softer smile. Real, and nothing like the playful fire you’d held when you were offering a dance. “You sure?” you ask quietly.

“I thought we were friends?”

“I think so too.”

“Can I ask you something unrelated?”

You squint with mock suspicion. “That depends.”

“Are you cold?”

You laugh, grabbing his arm as you do to steady yourself on your precarious footwear. “I’m surprised I haven’t got hypothermia,” you say, face tipping gently to your shoulder. “But I don’t think I’d make any money in a hoodie.”

Spencer doesn’t see how that could be true. You're one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen, if not the prettiest, and even if you were in a hoodie that would still leave your legs to make money. He’s sure they could. He’s also sure that he shouldn’t say that aloud, instead digging through his bag for the real thing he’d brought you. “Here,” he says, handing you a chocolate chip and strawberry protein bar, “for your rumbling stomach.”

Those few nights you’d stayed with him, you’d been a little shy and more afraid, probably worried he’d hurt you while you were vulnerable, though he had no intention, but you’d start to let pieces of you through the cracks. You like dancing but not men. You like fresh fruit, the smell of a new car, and buying new clothes. Stripping isn’t, like, easy, you’d said once, sitting cross-legged on his couch with a bowl of soup and that awful shiner, It probably looks easy. People think that the hardest part is being pretty, but it’s not.

What’s the hardest part? he’d asked, sympathetic and curious simultaneously. The hardest part statistically would be the high rates of femicide and assault.

It makes you so hungry. It’s like constantly working out every night.

“That’s for me?” you ask.

“So you can survive your workout.”

“Spencer, I think you’re the most romantic guy I’ve ever met.”

He presses the protein bar in the same hand as the phone, ducking his head just a bit, just to see you clearly. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

You seem to think this is the funniest thing he could’ve said, pressing your face briefly, heart-achingly to his shoulder, before pulling away to beam at him. “Don’t be sorry. You’re the best guy ever. And I had this investment banker come in a few days ago who gave me a hundred dollars to listen to him talk about his new kitten.”

“I’m surprised I beat that.”

You spread a hand over his heart. “I wouldn’t worry about competition, Dr. Reid.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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whoreforsexymen · 2 days ago

Note

This might be kind a kind of crazy request but hear me out, but feel free to ignore if your uncomfortable. So it's Jace Talis x reader SFW but it aludes to smut. Basicaly jayce wants to gets freaky with his girl or guy or whatever, but Jayce want to watch victor get freaky with the reader, Jayce's partner. I don't want to see any smut, but I just want to see the conversation go down between Jayce and Victor, of Jayce asking Victor if we would like to smash his partner and watch them lol.

Your wish is my command, darling. Sit back and let Mommy do her thing 🤍 (Also, tagging this as NSFW since it uses strong language, and heavily eludes to is directly about cucking.)

Jayce asking you to cuck him w/ Viktor | Flash

Pairings: Jayce Talis x Reader x Viktor

Pronouns: None used for Reader. Can be read as GN!!

Rating: NSFW, 18+ MDNI !!!!!

Word Count: 447

Tags: Cuckholding, Implied M/M (if you squint), Heavy implications of sex (duh), maybe slight OOC Jayce (also, if you squint), slight Sub!Jayce (if you REALLY REALLY SQUINT)

Notes: I have yet to watch S2 because I already can’t handle the heartbreak I know is waiting around the corner for me. So this is written with S1 Viktor and Jayce!!

Also, my first request!!! EEEE!! I hope you like it!! I wrote this so fast cause I was so excited and had nothing else to do hehehe xo

I ALSO KNOW YOU ASKED FOR THE CONVO TO BE BETWEEN VIKTOR AND JAYCE— WHICH ILL DO SOON, TOO, AS A PART 2!! But I liked this idea better ansjdkdkskkkkk for now!!

“…What?” You ask, bewildered.

“I know— I know it’s a weird request. But. I don’t know. I just think it would be hot to watch you… y’know… get fucked by someone else. And— I mean. It’s not like there’s anyone I trust more than Viktor—“ Jayce spoke quickly, a hint of embarrassment lacing his words as he let out a nervous chuckle, his fidgeting betraying his best efforts to exude a calm facade.

He swallowed tightly, his nerves making him feel exposed and helpless, like a child left alone in the dark.

“So. Let me get this straight. I just want to make sure I’m hearing you right. You want Me— And— Viktor, to fuck… While you watch?” You ask plainly.

Jayce swallowed once more, his nerves spiraling as he struggled to hold himself together.

“That is what I said… yes.” He mutters, scratching the back of his neck.

You stare at him, dumbfounded. The idea itself doesn’t catch you off guard—not really. In fact, it stirs something exciting within you. It’s a little unconventional, sure, but you’re not opposed to exploring what could lie ahead for your sex life with Jayce. You might enjoy letting him take the lead most of the time, but there’s something about the way he’s dancing around this topic in particular— too nervous to be bold—that sparks a fire in your gut.

“Hmm.” You hum softly, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“Is it just because you wanna see your boyfriend naked~?” You tease, your hands resting lightly on his chest as you look up at him, your gaze heavy with playfulness, smoldering as always.

Jayce stammers harder than before.

“I- wh- No. Pfft. It’s just- I just-..” He can’t even continue his stammering before you kiss him. It was a soft and chaste one, yet needy in its own way, and above all—understanding.

After several long seconds, once you sense his nerves start to settle, you slowly pull away, the tension lingering in the space between you.

“We can do that.” You say softly, giving him one extra peck to the lips.

“Really?” He queries, unsure of if you’re being truthful.

You emit a gentle chuckle.

“Yes, my love… I’m open to it.” You explain, running your hands along his chest… Over his vest… and down the length of his tie. You felt him shudder beneath your wandering hands.

“Why don’t you ask Viktor, and if he’s open to it, we can try… let’s see… tonight, hmm?” You ask, leaning in and nibbling his ear ever so teasingly.

After a long pause, Jayce finally speaks again, his voice quieter now, as if weighing his words more carefully.

“I already asked him. He said yes.”

#jayce talis #Viktor arcane #arcane #arcane smut #Jayce x reader smut #Jayce Talis x reader smut #Jayce Talis x Viktor #vikjayce #vikjayce smut #Viktor x reader smut #Viktor x reader smut arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x reader smut

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guiltyasdave · 3 days ago

Text

let them feel

pairing: Dave York x f!reader with a side of whichever Pedro boys you want x f!reader

word count: ~2k

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that can be grabbed, no use of y/n, dom!dave, exhibitionism, lowkey group sex tbh, rough oral sex (m receiving), fingering, degradation kink, praise kink

a/n: sooo... yesterday the lovely em @luxurychristmaspudding posted this poll with the compelling question in a room full of p boys, who is getting you off (in front of everyone else 👀)?, which led to the lovely daphne @sizzlingcloudmentality posting let them see (go read that asap!), which then led to me asking "hey do you mind if i continue this?" and then writing 2k words in a state that i can only describe as possessed. enjoy <3

dividers by @saradika-graphics <3

notifications blog -> @guiltyasdavenotifs & full masterlist -> here

“Such a good little slut for me, baby,” he croons and kisses your cheek. “Now get down and clean up.”

You’re still floating from your orgasm, all soft limbs and hazy thoughts, but when Dave speaks, you obey. Always.

The air is heavy with the scent of sex, the room filled with the sound of the others catching their breaths. You feel their eyes on you, burning on your skin. It’s heady, being bare in front of them, your whole body free for them to drink you in. The vulnerability of it is intoxicating you, humiliation swirling with excitement. They’re here to see you. You made them like this.

Dave tuts from behind you, teeth nipping at the lobe of your ear. “I said now.”

You shudder at the sharp bite, your ass grinding against him once more. Flames are already licking at your core again, still demanding more.

A low groan sounds when you turn around, position yourself on all fours in front of Dave. You’re on full display for them, and at the sound, you arch your back a little more, spread your thighs a little wider.

You feel his cum dribbling out of you, for all of them to see. See where he claimed you, made you his. Where he shared a small piece of you with them, and you let him.

Dave’s cock hangs heavy in front of you, coated in the combination of you. The scent engulfs you, musky and filthy. Your mouth waters.

Looking up, your eyes meet his. They’re burning with pride and possessiveness, as one hand cups your cheek, his thumb tracing gently over your skin.

“Not done yet, are you? You wanna show them more, show them how good of a girl you are for me?”

“Yes,” you breathe, locked into his gaze. You’d agree to anything he asks of you.

His lips curl into a smirk at your devotion. His thumb presses down on your bottom lip and slips into your eager mouth easily. You start sucking instinctually. His eyes darken, the smirk growing wider.

“Tell them,” he demands, pulling his thumb back and turning your head until you’re facing over your shoulder, towards them. “Go on.”

Your cheeks burn when you look at them, catch their eyes where they’re locked on you. Some on your face, some still on the mess between your spread legs.

“I want to show you that I’m a good girl,” you whisper, eyelids fluttering with embarrassment.

It earns you a few appreciative chuckles, a “go ahead, sugar,” that has you feeling shy. You turn back to Dave, silently pleading for his praise.

“So good,” he mouths at you as his fingers sink into your hair, directing your mouth to where he wants you.

You start with small kisses, pressed against his thighs, slowly moving closer. Inhaling his scent, the heady intensity of it when you’re so close to him.

You reach the underside of his cock, alternating between kisses and little kitten licks. His skin is sticky against your lips and tongue. The taste of his cum, mixed with the tang of your own arousal, floods your senses. A growl rumbles in his chest, his fingers digging into your scalp. But he doesn’t direct you, just holds onto you, soothing you by making sure you feel him close.

Whimpering at the taste, your tongue glides over his velvety skin. Taking your time, savoring each moment, every inch of him.

A new wave of arousal floods your pussy when you lower your head deeper, your tongue caressing his balls, coated with his cum just like you intended. Your ass rises higher with the shift in your position, and you hear Dave chuckle above you.

“You want to take a closer look? She doesn’t mind, do you, baby?” His fingers glide towards your neck, squeezing for just a moment. “You don’t mind showing them your slutty little hole, all wet just from licking my balls?”

You hum against his skin, the vibration causing him to suck air in through his teeth.

“Good girl.” A teasing slap lands against your ass, and you feel your pussy clench around nothing, more of his cum dripping out of you. “Spread your legs then, let them see. Wider.”

You hear the shuffle of footsteps, feel their eyes on you, so close to where arousal is spreading through you like wildfire. You could swear that you can feel someone’s breath ghost against your folds, the sensation enough to leave you trembling.

Dazed, you keep lapping at Dave’s skin. His balls are heavy on your tongue, cleaned of his cum and covered in your spit instead. It’s as far as you can go, to claim him like he claims you, to make him yours.

His grip in your hair tightens, pressing you into him, leaving you no choice but to lick and suck where you can reach. Your own saliva is soaking your face, his scent invading your nose, his taste filling your mouth, all your senses overwhelmed by him him him.

The flames keep licking at you, building up ready to consume you, and this is about him, you know it is, but you need more so badly. He lets up, pulling your head back slightly, grinning down at you. You can feel the others, their presence right behind you, close enough to touch. Yet, all you can see is Dave.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice dark. He runs a finger over your spit-slicked cheek, collecting the evidence of how completely and utterly he’s ruined you. “Such a messy slut, aren’t you?”

You nod, teeth digging into your lip to keep your arousal at bay, to keep from begging him to touch you.

“Tell them. Tell them what you are.” His hand connects with your cheek in a slap, not strong enough to hurt, but enough to send a moan tumbling from your lips that results in several chuckles from around you.

“Tell us, gorgeous,” one of them rasps, stoking the flames inside of you further.

“I’m—” you begin, shyly turning to face them. They’re towering over you, surrounding you, watching you intently, devouring you with their eyes. A deer in the headlights. You suppress a shudder, another wave of arousal crashing through you. “I’m a messy slut.”

Their cocks are hardening again, a few of them already touching themselves. Because of you.

“Yeah, you are,” Dave coos. Your head flies back to him at the sound of his voice, you can’t help it. It’s like you're tethered to him, like he’s the center of your universe. He’s taking you in, so calm, so patient, his lips pursed like he’s debating what to do with you.

His cock, fully hard again and leaking, is inches from your face. You want to taste him, licking your lips at the sight, saliva flooding your mouth. He can tell. He always can.

“Go ahead, put that whore mouth of yours to use.”

It’s all the permission, all the encouragement you need. You move forward, let your lips part around the swollen head, reveling in the fresh taste of his cum on your tastebuds. Your tongue traces the veins under his velvety skin, curls around the heavy weight of him before sucking him deeper into your mouth, sinking down on him.

It makes it harder for you, giving yourself no time to adjust, but it’s the way he likes it. He wants you slowly licking his balls, face pressed into his skin, debasing yourself, taking your time. But once you reach his cock, his patience runs thin.

Expecting you to give him what he wants. Taking it if you don��t.

“How’d you train her so well?” one of them asks. The longing unmistakable in his voice.

Dave chuckles, thrusting into your mouth particularly hard. He hits the back of your throat, a gargled sound escaping you. Holding himself there for a few seconds, he talks over you, like you’re not even there.

“It’s easy when they’re desperate for it, you just need to find the right girl.” He looks down, smiling at you in mock pity. “She was just asking for it. Weren’t you, baby?”

He doesn’t demand an answer this time, content with the choked hum that you manage to get out.

His cock sinks into your throat again and again, stretching your lips, making it hard to breathe, hard to think. Saliva is dribbling down your chin, tears flowing from your eyes. But this is what you wanted, what you needed, to let him use you, to show off how well you take him.

Your hips are humping the air in rhythm with his thrusts, desperate for friction, for something.

“Look at you.” His face is blurry through your tears, but his smile is evident in his voice. “My little slut needs to come again, huh? Insatiable, aren’t you?”

You manage a nod, gagging around him when the movement has him nudging against your throat again.

“Do you want them to touch you?”

It’s a genuine question, one that he’d let you say no to, but saying no is the last thing on your mind. You pull off of him with a gasp, greedily sucking air into your lungs.

“Please, yes! Please, please, please.”

He fills your mouth again instantly, holding your head still as he pounds into you with a new intensity.

“You heard her. Make my girl come.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, the tension thick around you, mounting high. Then, you’re overwhelmed with sensations. Their hands are all over you, so big, calloused fingers on your soft skin.

Nails scratch down your back, fingers roughly pinch both your nipples, already pebbled hard with your overwhelming need. It’s just on the right side of pain, racing through your body and mind, transforming into pleasure almost instantly.

Fingers swirl through the sticky mess between your thighs, teasing at your entrance. You buck your hips, trying to get closer while Dave still holds your head, not letting you move back an inch.

“Impatient,” someone chuckles behind you, and the fingers withdraw.

You whine around Dave’s cock, already able to taste your orgasm on your tongue, just a little bit more—

There’s a featherlight touch against your clit, barely there, but it’s like your body is set on fire. Mercifully, the fingers are back at your hole, or maybe they’re someone else’s, you can’t be sure, and you don’t care.

Finally, they sink into you, thick just like Dave’s, squelching with the overflowing wetness, and your eyes roll back into your head. They stretch your fluttering walls, fucking you slowly, deliberately, as you clench around them. Until they find the perfect spot, hitting it just right, over and over.

The touch on your clit intensifies, rubbing tight circles, catapulting you higher still, your whole body at a boiling point.

Then, you shatter. Dave’s cock in your mouth does nothing to muffle your scream, your fingers clawing at his thighs, holding on tight as you’re soaring. They don’t let up, pushing and pulling at you, while your orgasm keeps ripping through your body.

You’re drenched, wetness covering the entirety of your inner thighs, dripping from you when their fingers finally disappear from your cunt.

“Good girl,” Dave groans above you, thrusting into your throat one last time, before his seed spills into your waiting mouth. “My perfect fucking girl, you did so good.”

You’re blissfully hazy as he slowly lowers you down onto the sheets, stroking your head, your face. The others’ hands are still on you, but their demanding touch is gone, replaced with sugary sweet softness, more gentle than you had thought possible.

You close your eyes, content to let yourself sink into waiting arms.

thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are love <3

#janas fics #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #dave york x female reader #dave york smut #dave york x you #dave york x f!reader

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billysgirllol · 8 hours ago

Text

“that is true, i do get the best of both worlds now.” lucy gray winks, dying to laugh at this reaction. it’s better than she expected. “well maybe they do make peter pan, darlin’. they make mickey and he’s a disney character so why not?” maybe his mom just didn’t look in the right places. “that’s sweet of you.” voice coos, holding her fork and head tilting in affection as a loving look fills her eyes. she wants to kiss him for it, but can’t and scolds herself for even having those thoughts. but… why not think about it? it’s so kind of him to take care of her like that and she treasures honest, kind actions like that out of people. and then… he looks so handsome. her body wanting to attack him in kisses, studying his mouth again, has her annoyed she keeps doing this. IT keeps doing this. “you don’t like your salad?” she concernedly wonders, gaze falling down on his food. “oh, of course not.” voice drops in a disappointed tone, brows scrunching together because she’d never say her sweet little billy she met that day was beast. his outfit didn’t mean a thing to her. “for you, for takin’ care of me and ridiculously havin’ to brush my teeth, take my makeup off, give me a bath and put my jammas on,” she laughs affectionately, but somewhat feeling embarrassed. letting him have his bite, she grins once he takes it then eyes fall on his incoming fork with his dessert. curiously, she leans it and quickly steals the bite to see what it tastes like. confusion knits her brows then the second she tastes ice cream, eyes light up, being vocal about her love for the flavor once she swallows, “oh, that one’s delicious. i LOVE that one.” meringue stuck to her lip, she giggles and uses it an excuse to kiss him on the cheek to leave a sticky kiss.

no, it’s because she just loves him and if he suddenly turned into a girl she guesses she’d have to learn to like a girl. but she doesn’t want to tell him that, that she loves him in that way because she doesn’t want to jump right back in line with him. so while she’s thinking in the middle of eating her bread and spaghetti sauce, a little devious idea comes to mind. “maybe i’m figurin’ out i’m bisexual. after so many failed experiences with men.” smiling sweetly at him to lay it on extra convincing, stuffing a bite of noodles in her mouth. “what do you mean. you want tinker bell on your boxers? i think scooby doo, dinosaurs and spongebob’s adorable.” a small laugh sounds from her, dabbing at her face with a napkin. “you didn’t last night because it didn’t happen.” lucy gray decides, smiling innocently despite remembering other parts that make it sound true— that she probably did say or do some of those things. “why, of course i did. you had and have pretty dark wavy hair like cinderella’s prince or ariel’s.” that’s what stood out in her mind first as a child with a massive imagination first. “i love you, too.” a big smile curling her lips upwards that calling him a prince provokes an i love you out of him. love him in that caring way she always has. not i love you let’s be together right this second. because she remembers how that went last time and blair, there’s blair in the picture that she thinks he isn’t telling her the whole story too. “it was written in the stars, wasn’t it. you needin’ a little leech and me needin’ someone to leech to.” happy smile residing on her face, not even the idea of blair can ruin those memories. wiping her fork off and dipping it into a piece of cake, offering it to him to take once she brings the fork back up to his lips.

#verse: modern.#SHE DOES overestimate it 10/10 #😂#lg the paranoia queen

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yamumsyadadd · 2 days ago

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Las Blancas v Barca

teresa abelleira x barca!leon reader

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It wasn’t supposed to be a secret, or to come crashing down in the way it did.

Tere wasn’t that much older than you, just four years. It was less than AMC and Mapi’s age gap but to your big sister, Tere was ancient.

You officially met Tere when you were called up to the Spanish squad after the Las 15, at barely 18 years old it felt like a huge responsibility, and it was. Mapi had resigned from the team, as had fourteen other players. It look a lot of difficult conversations with Mapi, your parents, and Irene before you accepted. Even though Mapi had she she didn’t want to hold you back or hinder your career in anyway, you could tell there was a part of her that was disappointed. Not in you, but in the RFEF.

It was the beginning of the rift between the two of you and that’s why your relationship with the Las Blancas player was kept a secret. From everyone.

“Hi! I’m Tere, you’re Mapi’s little sister right?”

“Yeah, y/n. Nice to officially meet you.” We shook hands in the lobby of the RFEF accommodation quarters.

“Vilda asked me to show you around.” You walked around for a while, Tere showing you the lounge area, the cafeteria and the kitchen room. “It’ll be good to get to know you when we aren’t battling against each other on the field!” She laughed and you knew then you were in trouble.

Ever since that first day at camp, you were in deep. The curly haired, freckled face girl forced her way into your heart. No matter how hard you tried, she was always in your head, even when you were back in Barcelona and she was in Madrid.

It was in Australia after the World Cup final when all the feelings came out.

“Tere! We are world champions! World fucking champions!” The alcohol was coursing through your veins at the point, slightly aware of what you were thinking but the ability to stop yourself wasn’t there.

“We are! And there’s no one else I’d rather do it with.” The skin under her hands made you tingle.

“You’re so beautiful.” It was meant to be a whisper but it was the complete opposite.

Her lips came crashing down onto yours. It took a few seconds for your mind to register that this was a real thing and not just one of your many frequent dreams. Those few seconds was all it took for Tere to pull back, looking slightly horrified.

“Oh my god. I’m so sor-“ it was your lips that shut her up. The only way you could describe the feeling of kissing her was like coming home. You both got carried away before she gently stopped.

“Go on a date with me?” You agreed embarrassing fast.

The dates were hard to navigate once you were back in Spain but you made it work and now, almost a year later, you were happy in your relationship even if it was a secret.

It was the first camp back after the disappointing loss that followed the Olympics. Spains first, and potentially last. Finishing fourth and losing the bronze medal game was heartbreaking, for all those involved. There were photos that showed you and Tere looking a little more than teammates but not enough for anyone to truly say anything. But that didn’t apply to Jenni.

As much as you loved her, she irritated you more than anyone else. Her reasoning was that she was just as much your sister as Mapi was and since Mapi wasn’t there to give you shit, she did it on her behalf.

It was meant to be just gentle teasing, all in good nature. But after a while it got to you. Instead of being mature and actually discussing it with your girlfriend, you just completely ignored her.

“Y/n!” Her footsteps were getting closer so you started walking faster, “amor!” She caught up to you easily, grabbing your wrist to spin you around, “why are you ignoring me? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t deal with it anymore!”

“With what?”

“The-the teasing, the jokes, everything! At first it was whatever but now? Now they kept saying how much Mapi would hate it, ‘Barça v Real on the field but lovers in the bedroom’, not everything is about fucking sex.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I can ask Jenni to stop?”

“No, god no. Then she’ll know it’s true.” Tere dropped your hand, a look of hurt flashing across her face.

“Is that really so bad? People knowing that you’re my girlfriend?”

“Tere we both agreed, we wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Are you ashamed of me? Is that it? I know that Barça and Real have a huge rivalry but I didn’t realise you would be so ashamed to be seen with me.”

“Tere wait!” It was no use, she was already gone, “that wasn’t even what I meant.”

Begrudgingly, you decided to join the dinosaurs in the rec room. Jenni and Misa were playing pool and Alexia and Irene were on the couch. You forced yourself between your two captains, head following onto Alexia’s shoulder.

“You okay nena?” Irene poked your cheek.

“No I messed things up.” Both girls gave you a curious look, encouraging you to carry on, “I may have said something that I shouldn’t have to someone and it hurt their feelings but my feelings were hurt first and now they are mad at me.”

“Is this person someone who is important to you?”

“Very. I love her, so much and I want everyone to know how much but it’s hard.”

“There’s a difference between private and a secret. Which one does this girl fall under?”

“A secret.” You mumbled out, knowing that chastising you were going to receive.

“I’m going to take a wild stab in the dark here and say that you and this mystery girl agreed to keep your relationship a secret during the World Cup but now she wants to tell people?” Irene gave you a knowing smile, all you could do is nod your head.

“I think you’re overdue for a proper conversation with Tere.” Your head shot up at Alexia’s words, eyes wide as if you’d been caught with your hand in the cookie jar, “she’s a good person. I would say great but she plays for Real. Go talk to her.”

You shot up on your feet, quickly hugging and kissing both their cheeks and then you were off. It took a lot of grovelling and the promise to slowly start telling people.

There was a plan in place, it had been throughly discussed and agreed upon but that all turned to shit as soon as you entered the locker room after the first El Classico game of the season.

Everyone was extremely happy, as usual. Standing there, at the door way, you just blurted it out.

“I’m in love with Teresa Abelleria and we have been dating for a year.” The entire room fell silent, everyone slowly turning to look at you, but all you could do was stand there like a deer in headlights. That was definitely not the plan.

“What?” It was your sister’s voice that cut through the silence.

“I, um-“

“A year? An entire fucking year and you kept this from me?” Mapi had started to make her way towards you, fury filled her face.

“I was planning on telling you. I was. But I needed time to figure it out myself and not have anyone butt in with their unwanted opinions.”

“My opinion doesn’t matter to you? That’s a bit rough. Your opinion matters to me, y/n.”

“Mapi that’s not what I meant and you know that!”

“Then what did you mean! Use your fucking words!” She yelled. Everyone in the locker room was just watching it unfold.

“Ever since I got called up to the senior team you’ve been disappointed in me! After every single game you always tell me what I need to do better, never once have you said ‘you played well today’ it’s always critical! So I’m sorry that I didn’t want to give you something else to criticise me for.” You turned and slammed the door open.

After mindless walking, you found the Real Madrid locker room, you knocked before you entered, not wanting to walk in on anyone naked or worse, a useless pep talk. Tere noticed the dry tears straight away, pulling you into her chest and whispering reassurances in your ear. It took a while before you calmed down.

“Talk to her amor. Listen to her and talk to her. I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?” She kissed your cheek and squeezed your hand before leaving.

The bus ride was tense. Mapi and Ingrid were talking in hushed voices, occasionally glancing over towards you but you never noticed, too far in your own head.

“Y/n can we please talk?” Mapi asked nervously after you’d all gotten off the bus.

“I guess.” You shrugged your shoulders, following her line of sight to see Alexia and Ingrid looking over.

“I was mad at you for keeping a secret but that wasn’t fair of me. You have every right to keep your relationships private and not tell me.”

“Okay, good night.”

“No! Wait! You said, you said I have been disappointed in you since you were called up but that’s not true. Absolutely not true, I am so proud. I’m just scared, scared that they will treat you like they treated me and the others.” She took a deep breath before continuing, “you have always been the biggest light. You are so pure, so full of sunshine and I didn’t want them to take it away from you but in being scared, I didn’t realise I would be the reason that you lost your light. So I’m sorry, so incredibly sorry and I’ll spend everyday making it up to you.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow Tere and I are going out for breakfast. Do you and Ingrid want to come?”

“YES!” Mapi shouted, jumping onto you and wrapping her limbs around.

Breakfast the following morning was tense. Mapi looked angry, Ingrid just ignored her and continued to ask Tere questions to get to know her, actually caring about her answers.

“Mapi, I need to apologise to you.” Tere said nervously.

“What?” Mapi looked taken aback.

“Throughout the whole Las 15 issues I didn’t stand by you. I did things and said things that I regret. I am so sorry for that, if I could I would go back and change everything. Stand by all of you from day one. The club- they wouldn’t let us. It was them or you and I didn’t want to lose my position on the team.” You gave her hand a squeeze for reassurance. It was a conversation that you had both many times.

“Thanks for apologising. It hurt to know that my own national teammates didn’t have my back. Truly, I wish you all the best but I will never return. I hope you’re looking after my little sister when she’s there.”

“Of course!”

“Good because if you hurt her, I will ruin you.” She said it with a big smile on her face and Tere audibly gulped.

“Maria!”

It definitely took some time for Mapi to see you as a grown up in a relationship and there were some arguments about the age difference but all in all everything went smoothly. On camp, Mapi made the dinosaurs watch over the both of you. Never allowed to have time alone with Tere. The dinosaurs took her under their wing, just like they had with you.

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coquettepascal · 19 hours ago

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felicitas and her general

summary: general acacius has caught your attention after being the first mortal to worship you in decades. you only face one challenge: don't get too attached.

warnings: rated g, contains spoilers for gladiator ii, follows the timeline of the movie somewhat, reader is the goddess felicitas (who is the goddess of good luck,) this fic is basically just an add on to the movie.

tags: goddess!reader x general acacius, emotional infidelity, lots of roman mythology stuff, writer is basing all her knowledge out of what she remembers from PJO and HoO, worship, complicated feelings, marcus does not cheat on lucilla physically, yearning, pining, grieving, guilt, major character death(s), stalking (kind of), a lot of obsession/dedication, angst, hurt no comfort but also hurt with comfort.

a/n: i watched gladiator ii and then was too emotionally devastated to finish this fic the way i planned. i really hope you all like this!! also, this fic is also dedicated to my dear friend @pascalssbabyy because she is my biggest cheerleader and i love her <33

wc: 7.2k (not beta read)

It was he who woke you.

A quiet sacrifice in the evening that felt like the freshest breath of air you could have, more intense than what you could have atop any mountain, near any spring. The scent of burning meat and smokey vegetables grasped at your lungs, and you almost choked on it. How long had it been since someone had offered you something so kind? Real food, not just scraps of something they didn’t wish for.

You’d never complain about how difficult it is to be a minor Goddess, you know that you could be a mortal, but most don’t think of how Gods can fade. It’s a physical process, one where you’d notice how your fingertips passed through things like chalices and bowls, how a spoon slid through your hand once. The clatter of gold on the table was embarrassing, even though you were alone. Nothing about being forgotten, or fading, physically hurt. It was only mentally taxing, knowing that you weren’t as important as you once were, that mortals found you insignificant.

Generals used to come and offer things frequently sometime ago, but you couldn’t even begin to understand how long ago that was. When you’re immortal, or supposed to be, mortal lives seem fleeting. You had taken them for granted, and regret it now, for all you have now are the empty clouds above your temple.

The last offering you can gather was from a young boy, who wanted to win a board game against his sister the next day. He had given you half a bun with strips of meat. Sure, it was thoughtful, but this was something rich.

You finish inhaling the offering, and then hear the offerer's voice. But it’s muffled, and you want to see who it is anyways, so you swipe through the clouds and create a window to see. Then you can hear him clearly.

Someone who is clearly a general kneels at your altar, which is chipped and dirty. The ashes of the food are in front of him, smoking still, and you can taste the wealth in his meal. It can’t distract you from him though, he is striking.

Broad shoulders support a heavy, curly, grey, head of hair, which is bowed in honor of you. His body is widely built, sturdy for battle, and his voice is just as powerful. You’re so focused on hearing his voice you only catch the tail end of his request.

“... Allow me to come home safely, if not for Rome, then for my wife.”

Your heart squeezes, and you swear you can feel the ichor gushing through your veins. Scarcely when a General came to give you an offering all those years ago would he mention a wife, only ever wishing for luck in the upcoming battle or war. But here, now, you’ve been given a respectful request and offering. It isn’t a thought in your mind to not favor him now, your eyes closing and your mouth murmuring a blessing to him. It feels intoxicating to use some of your power again, especially on someone who asked for it. It also feels intoxicating to watch this General leave.

He looks around before he goes, seeming to note how degraded your small temple has become. The statue of you that lies ahead of your altar is yellowing, and ironically, multiple fingers have broken off. The General seems displeased by this, sighing as he exits the temple.

His gait is heavy, sandaled steps weighted as he walks down them and into the torch-lit night. You find yourself looking for him even after he’s disappeared from your sight, the warmth of gratefulness hugging around you. Part of you knows better than to play around with the thought, but still you wish to know more about him.

—

It worsens when he comes back. A few times a week he returns, offering rich foods. It’s been a month now, and you are coming back to life.

Fading didn’t feel like anything, but coming back feels like so much more. The first few offerings had your body feeling alight again, like the ichor in you was flowing again, but within the last two weeks you’ve gotten your fingertips back. They were tingling for a day and then the next you were able to properly grasp things again, nothing was slipping through you.

In that time you had also learned his name. A guard had come looking for him one night, and stood behind him whilst he prayed. You had found yourself smiling when he didn’t interrupt himself, instead acting aggravated once he had finished. The guard had apologized for interrupting and let him know that “Your wife wishes to speak to you, General Acacius.”

Acacius.

You still don’t know his first name, but it is enough. You can think of it when you feel lonely, when you are bored. Something to associate with the offerings, with the blessings. The fact he has been so consistent hints at a desperation, which would usually repel you from blessing him, but he is the only one who seems to recognize you. His efforts are not going to go unseen by you, not when you have so little to do.

You can feel yourself conceding to your need to know him more, but just as you begin to fight yourself again, he shows up.

Tonight he’s dressed a little nicer. Usually he arrives in a plain tunic but this one has golden trim on it, and his hair is a little more tousled. He stumbles into your altar holding something in a cloth, but he’s walking like he’s… drunk?

Acacius meanders to your altar, grabbing a torch along the way, and then empties the contents of the cloth. It produces a small dessert bun, a Libum, or honey cheesecake, and your mouth waters. So much of the food that is given to you is savory meats, masculine foods that are heavy on the senses, but this is sweet and delicate. You can, of course, eat whatever you’d like. You’re a Goddess, and though you aren’t major, you are still very fortunate.

But this feels thoughtful.

The General drops to his knees after lighting the bun ablaze, swaying slightly, and now you know he must be drunk.

“Goddess Felicitas,” he begins as normal, “I am sorry I am later than usual. Though I don’t know if Goddesses sleep. I was… caught up in other affairs, but I made it in time.”

He is less eloquent than usual and seems particularly focused on how it is nearly past midnight.

“I brought you this though,” he gestures to the half burnt bun. “I wanted to bring you something different than meat and… things. I thought a dessert would be fitting for that task.”

Acacius pauses now. His thoughts are probably muddled from whatever he drank, and you find yourself smiling. Foolery has never been so endearing to you.

“You have been listening to me, I suppose. My requests for luck in battle have been answered, as well as my safety being ensured. Your blessings have brought my wife peace of mind, something I could not previously afford to her.”

He looks so small in your temple tonight. Normally he is not so vulnerable, but his shoulders sag as he mentions his wife. Some sort of shame runs over him at the idea that he could not ease his wife’s worries, but it makes you feel better that you could help.

“Goddess Felicitas, I come here tonight bearing no requests, just gratitude. Your blessings have soothed wounds I could not see, and I feel like a young soldier again. You invigor me.”

Then, he leaves.

You watch helplessly as he stumbles back down the steps and away from your temple, and more than ever you wish to chase him. The love he has for his wife is clear, and you hold no jealousy of that, but you wish it were you. Something in you is deeply attached to this General now. He has awoken you so much more than rekindling your power as a goddess, more than releasing you from the grief that comes with fading. Yes, Acacius has made your heart beat again, your mind curious again, and you feel seen. Being worshipped is not the same as being loved, if that were true you’d have had many children by now,

But after so long being forgotten, this feels like what you remember being loved as.

—

You try not to interact with the other Gods for the most part. They tend to meddle in things they don’t need to, and are sensitive. You are not exempt from this stereotype, but that’s only more reason for the distance.

But today, you venture to meet another deity.

Morpheus is not hard to find. He is pretty stationery where he is, usually lounging on a rock or bench near his temple, or above it in the clouds. He is a bit…dramatic, from what you remember, but wise.

Today he is stretched out on a cloud above his temple, eyes shut. His pale skin stretches taut on his bones as his lean frame breathes deeply. But, he is not asleep.

“Morpheus,” you speak.

His body rolls toward your direction, eyes still shut, but a small smile on his face.

“O young goddess Felicitas, what brings you to me?” He questions.

It’s hard not to feel embarrassed. You’ve spoken to Morpheus on very rare occasions, but he’s always been somewhat helpful, though nosy. Dreams tell a lot about people, and when he’s the one giving them to people, it’s hard to hide anything at all.

You don’t want him to know of your true affection for General Acacius, just that he is… worthy of a visit.

And so you begin to describe it to Morpheus, your need to visit Acacius. He doesn’t open his eyes at all, but he raises his eyebrows a lot and seems bemused at your situation. You’re only halfway through your rambling before he raises a gangly limb and waves at your words.

“Felicitas, you think you are the only Goddess wishing to visit her admirer? You need no explanation,” he says jovially.

Morpheus reaches into the air and pulls 6 black berries into existence, then drops them into your open palm.

“When you know he is asleep, bite down on one of these and think of him,” he describes to you.

The berries smell like nothing, but a powdery residue is left on your skin as you roll them in your palm. It doesn’t repel you at all.

Tonight, you will visit him and express the same gratitude he did to you.

—

Marcus lays next to his wife, Lucilla, with her hand in his. She fell asleep sometime ago, leaving him to lie awake by himself.

He didn’t make it to her temple tonight and the guilt is festering in his body. Marcus knows that she is a Goddess, that he probably isn’t a thought in her mind. He knows that he is just another whiney mortal, giving her food that isn’t nearly as good as whatever Gods eat. His insignificance grows as he feeds into his guilt.

Stress has permeated his life for much of it, from his time as a young soldier up until now, as a General. Battles, politics, and his family, have created a breeding ground for him to be wracked with anxieties, but he stays strong. Thanks to his time in Felicitas temple, it’s been better.

Which is why failing to make it to her temple tonight is making him feel so bad.

He grabs at the linen sheets of his bed, stressing and trying to reassure himself until he falls asleep finally.

—

Being in a dream is weird. It feels much the same as it does when you disguise yourself as a mortal, the out of body experience is semi-familiar, but it’s weird because someone else is there.

You’ve been watching the General enjoy the lake in front of him for a few minutes now. He hasn’t slipped into it, but just walks along the waterline. It seems like he is looking for something. Surely his dreams usually contain more action, or perhaps are memories, so you assume it may be strangely understimulating for him.

The appearance you’ve chosen is one of modesty, but elegance. A seafoam green peplos hangs off your frame delicately, with golden clasps at the wrists and waist. You did your hair so it would be tucked out of your face. There is no guarantee that Acacius will recognize you like this, but you look much like your statue that’s within your temple.

Swallowing your nerves, you shimmer yourself into visibility. The grassy field is odd beneath your feet, and you walk toward him with uncertainty in each step. You’ve never met with a mortal before, and you haven’t stepped on anything earthy in a long while. His broad stature only becomes more daunting as you get closer, especially since he seems so focused.

You will have to speak first. You’re much too quiet in this environment, and you must act fast lest he wake before you get his attention.

“General Acacius,” you speak firmly, though your hands shake.

This is so unfamiliar to you. You’ve barely even seen his face, as he’s usually bowed at your altar. It is the first time you’ll see him at an equal level, the first time you’ll have brought yourself to him rather than him to you.

He turns quickly, an instinctual aggressiveness toward the unknown. You stand about 10 feet from him, eyes widening.

Acacius is striking. His nose is what you focus on first, strong in shape and line, but behind it are his eyes which look to you with wide acknowledgement. His hair curls around his head in greying ringlets, like a permanent laurel crowning him. The wide expanse of his back was once impressive, but now you can see the solid wall which he becomes when facing you. Nothing could push him over it seems, a man built to stand.

Your heart squeezes the way it did the first time he gave you a request, a tender rush tingling your whole body. No words come out of either of your mouths, and the General drops to one knee instantly.

He recognizes you.

“Goddess Felicitas,” he rushes out in a breath. His chest is heaving as he bows his head and no, no this isn’t how you want this.

Your feet are moving before you can focus on your anxiety, bringing you so close to him that you can kneel too. Maybe a goddess should not kneel before a mortal general, but you are just on your knees rather than putting yourself below him. Your peplos billows a little as air rushes through it when you hit the grass.

He is above you like this, and you tilt your head to see his face again. His strong brow is furrowed, eyes squeezed shut like he is afraid of you.

“Acacius,” you say softly, “I am not here for… for ill reason. Please relax yourself.”

You lean back as he relaxes, head tipping upwards as he kneels in front of you as well. Now you can meet his eyes, see the crinkles that are beside them, and really take him in.

An energy of anxiety is shared wordlessly, with him stiff from the sight of a literal goddess, and you with the fear of… something.

The identity of your anxieties isn’t something that you can figure out. Maybe it’s too much to see such a handsome mortal, or maybe it’s that you’re going to thank him for his offerings so personally. Maybe it’s humiliation from this act. What would other Gods think of this? Is it not degrading to become so attached to a mortal? Are you no better than Zeus or Hermes, the gods who interact too intimately with mortals?

The sound of his labored breathing alerts you, calls your attention back to the present moment.

“I wanted to thank you,” you admit meekly, “for your offerings. You have been very generous and… devoted.”

His eyes are shifty, and you can see the terror in him still. You don’t want him to fear you, but you can understand why. Visits from Gods or other deities can mean trouble, but you aren’t significant like that.

“General Acacius you are the first mortal who has acknowledged me in a long time,” you offer a vulnerability, perhaps trying to soothe him.

It feels so backwards for you to be kneeling in front of him, speaking. He has done so in front of your altar for many weeks now, but now the spots are switched, yet you are still in power. You avert your gaze as you speak up, wanting to request something of him.

“You’ve been so generous to me, General, I was hoping to know more about you.”

And now, rather than scared, he seems suspicious.

“To know me?” He clarifies.

You nod.

“I only know your last name. I think I could offer more luck and splendor if we were more… personal.”

Gods that felt awful to say. You’re no better than the whorish brutes on their thrones, offering petty glories for intimacy. Everything feels flirtatious but that’s not what you’re looking for. Acacius has a wife he clearly loves, you would never want to interrupt that.

He seems to hesitate, but he knows he cannot refuse you. So far your blessings have brought ease to his life, he wouldn’t want to lose that.

“Then… yes, I suppose I can offer myself if it would please you.” He responds stoically.

And it does please you, to know his name. Marcus Acacius, the one who woke you, the one who has saved you from being a fragmented memory within the temples.

Marcus Acacius, who you are too fond of.

—

You visit him 3 more times. In an attempt to space out the usage of the berries Morpheus gave you, you only visit him once a week. The bleak tasting berries are sour on your tongue, a rotten sour which lingers once you wake up, but it’s worth it.

The two of you have grown closer, with Marcus opening up more. He tells you about the stresses in his life, how much anxiety is buried in him. But, he’s confident for the sake of his wife. You’ve learned that her name is Lucilla, and much more about her. Marcus talks about her a lot, in passing or retelling something she told him. In the small amount of time you’ve gotten to know him, you’ve gotten to know her as well.

It burns you with a strange warmth, a desire and envy which makes your stomach growl. You are hungry for him to admire you in the same way, to speak of you, but doesn’t he already? Shame grips your throat when you think of it. You are a Goddess who he sacrifices to, who he wishes to have blessings from. What more do you need? A mortal couldn't offer you what another deity could.

After the fourth meeting, you found yourself lonely. Lazing back in the clouds above your temple, you woke with a deep hunger. Marcus is beautiful, an admirable man, and he loves passionately. You are already being such a glutton for even speaking with him, meeting with him repeatedly, so why must you yearn for him too?

Worship isn’t enough, you want what you will never let yourself to have.

Nothing hints that he might feel similarly. His starry gaze which lands on you is not due to your beauty, your personality, or anything more. You have blessed him, and that is why his eyes glitter. Goddess status has never made you feel so low and isolated. Still, you are happy to help him achieve what he wishes, even as it cripples your heart.

Tonight you plan on visiting him. That fourth visit was a week and a half ago, he may be wondering where you are. He still comes to your altar each night, but the prayers are less personal. Marcus saves his stories and ramblings for when the two of you are in the field, or near the lake, when the two of you are really alone.

—

You bite into the berry at around midnight. Its tangy yet death-tasting juice floods your mouth, clinging to the crevices between your teeth and staining your gums. Closing your eyes, you think of Marcus, and his curls, and his eyes, and his nose, and his strong hands.

And then you are there, and he is waiting.

It seems like his subconsciousness has picked to be at the lake today, and he’s sat in the sand at the edge of the water. You walk over to him, but notice how… down he appears to be.

“She is not happy with me,” Marcus confesses before you even sit down.

You stand a few feet back from him, looking at how his curls fall around his bowed head.

“Lucilla?” You ask softly.

He nods.

A wicked feeling begins to steep in your heart. She is upset with him, he is in need of you for something more than a blessing.

And so you listen.

It’s one of the longer meetings the two of you have had. Marcus doesn’t cry, but he seems truly upset. He’s been called to go off somewhere far again, to fight and kill. Reassurances that you will protect him as best you can only soothe him so much.

He doesn't care if he dies, he cares that his beloved is distraught over this.

The more the two of you talk, the closer you get. There are marks on the sand from where you originally sat, but now you kneel in front of him, with creased brows and worried eyes. This isn’t something you can fix, you aren’t familiar with love and its intricacies.

His knees were tucked closer to his chest before, but they’ve loosened now and his fists rest atop them, clenching. Frustration sits on his face like a mask, one you wish to take off him.

Touching is not… something either of you partake in. Sometimes your shoulders will brush when you sit together, but nothing more has ever been initiated.

That is why it doesn’t surprise you when he flinches as your hand reaches out to rest on top of his right clenched fist.

“Marcus,” you say softly, wanting to offer comfort, but he cuts you off.

“Don’t,” he replies swiftly.

At first it hurts, watching as he waves off your hand from his own, but then you look at his face rather than where your hands were joined. The frustrated look on his face is gone, replaced with something worse, something guilty. His eyes aren’t glittering at you like usual, nor are they hardened with anger.

They’re soft pools of conflict that mirror your own.

It doesn’t soothe your burn, satiate your envy. You can see in his eyes that maybe you aren’t alone in these feelings of admiration, of want, but maybe this is not what you want.

Maybe you want a different universe, one where he doesn’t have to be a mortal and you, a Goddess. So you wouldn’t have to worry about him dying, and have this friendship survive off death flavored berries. Maybe you want a universe where he isn’t married, where he could be yours and you wouldn’t feel like a spectator to his heart.

Maybe you want that, but you won’t get it.

Instead the flames of jealousy die in your chest and are replaced with tumors of guilt. Your whole body feels bloated, embarrassed, and ugly.

The pair of you stare at each other, a stupid realization between the both of you as you realize that your secrets have been spilled, even though it’s the same one.

His eyes don’t move from yours, so you move from his.

The sandy edge of the lake does not look so bright now, even though there are no clouds in Marcus’s dream.

“When do you leave?” You ask softly.

You will not follow him into whatever battle he’ll win. Don’t embarrass yourself, Goddess.

He tells you two weeks. You say you’ll see him before then.

Then you wake on a cloud again, with a cavity of guilt in your chest.

—

Marcus wakes alone.

Lucilla had not wanted to sleep with him that night, choosing to stay elsewhere. She didn’t tell him where, she left in a quiet flurry of tears and anguish.

It’s easier for him to feel guilt over his Goddess than it is to hurt his beloved, even if it is the same.

In a moment of frustration he grasps at the sheets, turning over and biting at his pillow. The bed is so cold, and the room smells like stale air even though the window is open, the night breezy.

He knows she is beautiful because she is a Goddess. All Goddesses are beautiful, ethereal beings that mortals cannot even comprehend at times. Marcus knows he is lucky to even perceive her, for her to have chosen to visit him.

Yet through all her blessings, he feels cursed.

A plague of emotional infidelity is crawling through his body, sticking to his bones and making him stiff. Everything he does has felt flat for so long, from pretending he is grateful to the Emperors, to now pretending nothing is wrong in his marriage. He’s scared, and exhausted.

Marcus rubs a hand over his face after rolling over and sitting up in bed, groaning into his palm.

At first he tried to blame her for it. What would a Goddess want from a successful General other than a demigod hero son? What could truly be so special about him? He assumed she was manipulating him, using some sort of power to morph his heart, but now he knows it is not true.

If she had wanted to, she would have had him by now, and he knows this. If she had wanted to, her hand would have stayed where it was tonight, and pushed him further. It isn’t unlike the Gods to force themselves on a mortal, but she didn’t.

Instead, his hand feels hot where hers rested, and his mind is spinning.

Marcus doesn’t fall asleep again, afraid that he’ll see her.

—

You wait for a full two weeks before you visit him again. He had been coming to your temple less, and you had assumed he was busy with preparations for the coming battle.

The stubbornness you felt that night has not left you. At first you did not leave your temple in fear that you would grow attached, now you remain there because you have grown attached.

“Enough is enough,” you had thought to yourself.

But it is hard not to miss him, and his soothing prayers. The way his offerings tasted of smoke and sweet, and how he’d always burn such a large portion. Marcus never gave you scraps, he seemed to refuse to.

However, you can only distance yourself so far.

It is quiet when you approach him. He is sitting in the field this time, the lake a distant glitter in your eyes. He does not face you, but his head isn’t bowed like before.

“Marcus,” you greet, your voice muted.

He raises his head, turning over his shoulder and nodding, as if to direct you to come closer, and so you do.

Tonight’s visit isn’t vulnerable, or even pleasant. Marcus seems so distant as he dryly tells you about how he’s preparing, and his wishes to return safely. His eyes barely meet your own as he talks, and he continuously twists the ring on his finger.

It grows tiring, watching him ramble about politics you could care less about, listening to him say things that have nothing to do with him. He’s so far from the friend you thought you had made. When the air between you goes quiet, you don’t fill it for a while. You listen to the sound of the wind in the grass as his eyes still will not meet yours. It’s breaking you apart.

This is the last night you’re able to visit him, unless you visit Morpheus again. You will not waste it like this.

“What is ailing you, General?” You ask, deciding to prod more than you usually do.

To your surprise, he scoffs in light laughter.

“You,” he responds quietly.

His words don’t hurt, at least not yet. You have the option to walk away now, wake yourself and leave him with his final blessings, but of course you don’t.

“Me?” You ask, “what have I done?”

Marcus rolls his shoulders back, lifting his head to look into the everblue sky above the both of you.

“You have made my life difficult, Goddess.”

Difficult? You have made his life difficult?

You have half a mind to tear him to pieces, curse him with something awful like snakes for toes, or spoons for teeth. After all that you’ve done for him, all the safety you’ve provided, he is telling you that you make things difficult? How dare he? Be outraged, Goddess, for he disrespects the holy luck which you bestowed to him.

That’s what you should think, that’s how most of you should feel.

But instead you feel small, and hurt. Yes, he is disrespecting all that you’ve given, but also you feel like a failure. Your physical existence is because of him, because he did not let you fade. All you wanted to do was make his life easier, help him to have an eased mind and a safer life.

But instead, he’s telling you you’re difficult.

It feels like your body is shrinking in the white peplos you’ve worn, the sheer fabrics swallowing you. Shame is flooding in the form of tears behind your eyes, wetting your orbs with an unexpected outburst of emotion.

“I am sorry,” you manage weakly.

Marcus does not look at you while you cry, and you want to believe it is because he cares too much to watch, but you cannot verify that.

The wind picks up again, but it does nothing to hide the soft cries you can’t hold back. Once you were a fading Goddess, now you are just a failing one.

There is no luck involved with love.

Eventually he speaks again, with his head turned away from you.

“I am sorry too,” he says. There’s a finality in his tone that makes you ache.

So much is said in such little words. He is sorry to you, for you, and with you. A sorrow is shared between the two of you, knowing that your hearts ache for one another as they are worlds apart yet on earth together.

This last berry was only supposed to mark the end of your visits, not the end of everything. It feels like this is all there is for the two of you, since it’s too complicated to continue on like this.

That’s why he doesn’t move away when you move closer and rest your head on his shoulder as tears leak down your cheeks, or at least that’s what you’ll believe.

—

Time moves weirdly when you’re immortal, but it all happens so quickly.

Marcus stopped coming to offer things for you, and so you were blessing him less. Admittedly you had kept an eye on him, but not a keen one. It didn’t feel right, not when you and him weren’t… friends anymore.

But this feels too soon, too fast, too unfamiliar. Has your sadness caused you to be blind?

You watch as a man kneels in front of Marcus, panting and bloody with a sword beside him on the ground.

The only reason you are here was because you had felt the roar of a crowd all the way at your own temple, a wide distance away. It had drawn you in, and instead you had found this.

That roaring which you had heard crescendos to a new height around you as you shimmer into existence, cloaking yourself to the mortal eyes in the stands of the coliseum, but existing enough to touch him.

Arrows stick out of his front, more crushed beneath his back, as he is slumped on the white, gravel, ground. His hair is curled with tacky blood streaking through it, and he is so, so, still.

You drag your hand across his forehead, feeling the remaining heat, and in the echo of the crowd you begin to sob.

Everything around you is moving, changing, fighting, and screaming, but you sit invisible in the center of the coliseum, running your hands over the now dead General Acacius. There is nothing you can do to bring him back, to ease Lucilla, to save him and apologize. He is dead beneath your fingers, with arrows lodged deep in his irreparable, mortal, flesh.

You were supposed to keep him safe.

Hot tears run down your cheeks as you keep grasping at his armor, unable to move him or yourself. The last visit felt official, but this feels final. There is nothing more for you here, no friendship in a corpse.

Thoughts are running through your mind at the rate that your breath is puffing from your chest. The question of where he will end up in the afterlife is overwhelming you, and the chance for him to go to Elysium feels reasonable. It’s where he should be, where he deserves to go, especially after all he had done for Rome. You don’t even care why he’s here, or why he seems to have been brutally killed, but after the time you spent with him, Elysium seems right for him.

—

It’s where he should be. Elysium is where he should be.

And it’s where you find him.

His place there is somewhat similar to his and Lucilla’s home back in the mortal world, with lush greenery and airy drapes that flutter in various colours. It seems like he has left space for Lucilla here too, with space left in the chests for her things, and a permanently made half of the bed.

Elysium offers a true celebration of life for heroes, demigodly or not, and you’re sure Marcus has been enjoying that. Anything that he had been shackled to in his mortal life was gone now, and it seems that all he would have to miss is his wife.

Most of your time is spent there, in his afterlife home. You peer from behind curtains when he comes back, hidden in drapes and keeping yourself small.

He is already dead, but after the last time you abandoned him, you cannot bear to leave him alone again.

The vision of him, bloodied and murdered on the coliseum floor, flickers into your mind every time you see him lying in his bed. It’s an obsession to be near him, to be looking after him. Pluto might not even know you’re down here anymore, but what does it matter?

Marcus Acacius was the last living mortal to worship you. In the underworld, you are beginning to fade. Your fingers are slipping from you again, which is making it easier to lurk near him, but it is a painful process.

You want to speak to him. No longer do you yearn for his love, not after being in his home and seeing how dedicated his heart truly is to Lucilla, but you yearn to speak to him again. A panicked emotion runs through you at the thought of fading alone, of being entirely forgotten.

It didn’t matter before he died, fading was just something bound to happen, but now it’s more. Is he forgetting you?

—

You’ve lost most of your arms by the time you work up the courage to speak up. Lucilla arrived sometime ago, joining Marcus in the afterlife. Watching them together brought some warmth to you, some kind of happiness that you couldn’t have for yourself, but seeing it for him was enough.

You sit on the terrace of their home, invisible to their eyes, and somewhat to your own. From the tips of your fingers to just below your elbows, you are a specter. Grey shadow fills where your limbs used to be, and they pass through all objects. You couldn’t tap his shoulder if you tried.

Oftentimes you sit, hidden, and ponder by yourself about more than Marcus. There were so many things you were adamant about when he was alive, and you regret it all now. Your determination to avoid your feelings, or at least not show them, and your need to not become attached… it bites at you now, a stinging, grieving, venom, that won’t leave. Your status as a Goddess blinded you to how tender that friendship could have been, and now you sit as a ghost spectator to his afterlife, obsessed with a mortal as a fading immortal.

The tips of your fingers pass through the glass you try to grab as you think of this on the terrace. You’re glad that you’re such a minor deity, so at least you do not have to feel so humiliated about fading. A smile has just graced your face as you feel blessed for being so unimportant you can essentially stalk this mortal, when suddenly his voice cuts through the humid air of the space.

“Felicitas?” Marcus’ voice asks.

It’s so hesitant that you think you’re imagining it. You thought you had their home to yourself right now, thinking they had gone to do… whatever souls do in Elysium, but when you turn your face, he is there.

Marcus has not worn fancy clothing in a long while now, and right now is no different. He stands before you in a plain looking tunic, which just graces his knees. To see him at ease has been so nice, but he looks distressed at your sudden appearance.

You cannot find your voice as you awkwardly stand up, trying to think quickly. There is no good way to explain what you’re doing here, hidden away in him and his wife’s home. You could just vanish into thin air, but that feels wrong. He has seen you already, any attempts at pretending you aren’t here would be ridiculous.

His eyes scroll from your face down to your arms, and the smoking shadows that used to be there. Concern pinches onto his face with knitted brows and pressed together lips.

Something in you wants him to turn away, so you don’t have to think about why he is worried for you, even after all the trouble you caused, but he doesn’t.

His sandaled steps are heavy as he comes to you, reaching for your hands but finding the gesture fruitless as his own slip right through yours.

“Dulcissima,” he speaks weakly, shock woven in his words.

You had told him about fading a little while ago, when the two of you were in that field. Now it seems the severity of it has hit him.

What is hitting you is the name. Dulcissima, or sweetest. How long had it been since you had been referred to so fondly? All at once you are being remembered, recognized, and shown some affection. It feels like too much and tears are falling out of your control.

“I’m sorry,” you manage, “I was supposed to– to keep you safe.”

Marcus is shaking his head already, refusing your apology.

“No, no. You did keep me safe, you did. I pushed you away, I couldn’t control myself and I caused this,” he argues.

It does not comfort you that you both blame yourselves. You wish to reach out to him and touch his face like you should have when he was warm and alive. You want to know if he is cold now, and it’s as if he hears you.

Marcus places a hand on your cheek, a softness in his eyes and hold that says that he missed you.

“I saw you,” he claims, “when I was on the ground. You were the last thing I saw.”

Somewhere between life and death for mortals, there are moments of godly clarity. Some see the light, others see their families and memories, but in that tiny glimpse of time, some see Gods.

He was able to see you as you knelt over him, sobbing as you were cloaked to any mortal's naked eye. You were the last thing he saw, and the last thing he truly regretted.

All you can do is stiltedly nod at him, feeling like you were in trouble even though it seems he’s not upset.

For a moment, his eyes flick away, contemplative, but then he meets your gaze again.

“I told Lucilla of you, before I died. Not– not of my feelings which I struggled with, but that you were a close friend, a blessing in many ways.”

A blessing in many ways.

Another choked sob is wracked from your chest, your bottom lip curling out embarrassingly as your face contorts. He almost coos at you, the thumb on your cheek rubbing away your tears.

“Goddess, I have missed you,” he admits.

Stupid nods are all you can offer, your voice imprisoned in your ever tightening throat which cries. When he was alive he was never this tender, too confused and insecure to ever touch you, but it seems he has been regretting things too.

“Felicitas,” he says quietly, “do you come here for ill reason?”

You shake your head this time, rather than nodding. You have no reason to be here, other than the fact that guilt has taken over your mind and heart since he died.

“Then relax, dulcissima. I have an offering for you.”

Marcus relaxes his stature, eyes still gazing over you. He looks at your fading palms and you watch him swallow nervously.

“I will worship you again, lending you offerings here, and all I ask in return is for our friendship again.”

It’s the opposite of how you met, almost completely, but it’s everything you need. You will not fade, he will not struggle in marriage, and you will have one another again.

Again, you are nodding stupidly, but soon you’re embraced by him and nodding into his chest. His hands grasp at your back as he tells you how much he missed you in his final weeks, how he regrets losing you entirely, how he requires you as a friend.

You are satiated in his arms as he comforts you, awakening you again there on the terrace. Unbeknownst to you, Marcus has let tears slip down too as he holds you close.

“You will keep me safe here?” he asks jokingly.

It makes you smile, the idea of offering luck to a man who already died.

“Yes, General. I will keep you safe here, from all the horrifying glory and splendor,” you assure.

The two of you laugh, breaking the embrace but staying close. A passionate connection is still between the two of you, but in a different way now. Maybe when he was alive it was romantic because it is all you could think of, but through his death the two of you have come to understand it more.

You require one another in a unique way, and leaning on one another does not have to be intimate the way he is with his wife. Marcus does need you, just as you need him, and now that you are both immortal in a way, you will never be separated again.

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tags (people who seemed excited for this) (sorry if these dont work)

@pascalssbabyy , @moonshapedflan , @gossipgirl-03 , @kyloispunk , @frannyzooey , @coocoolahh , @bug-boy32 , @honeymarvel , @magicalmorg , @1deakybass , @tuquoquebrute , @harryshousewhore , @teeagain, @chewie-bars , @vampyyweek , @queenslandlover-93 , @amijenn , @aquanatalie

#pedro pascal #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #gladiator ii spoilers #gladiator 2 spoilers #marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius #general acacius #general acacius x reader #lucilla x marcus #i just realized idk lucillas last name oops #pedroverse #ellie writes

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