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#please feel free to bully me off here
yanderenightmare · 5 months
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Gojo Satoru
TW: NSFW, dubcon, yandere, bully/mean Gojo
gn reader - fem clothing
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“Summer did you good, didn’t it?”
Your ears grate at the familiar voice. So smug you can feel the smirk before turning around to see it in all its pearly glory. 
“Leave me alone, Gojo.” You sigh, taking your drink before trying to slide passed him.
But he stands close – too close, still in the intimate club – so close his thigh brushes yours where you sit on the bar stool. “I’ll leave you alone… if you make it worth my while~”
Your nose scrunches. “Gross. I’d sooner fuck a curse.”
His smile doesn’t drop despite your insult. “I’ve got six eyes, you know…  You think I don’t see what you’re doing?”
Your eyes narrow, biting out a “What?” and his smile becomes a chuckle. 
“Short skirts and tight tops. Sitting here all alone.” His black shades dip when he looks down his nose at you, a knowing look in his loud blues. “You’re fishing- and lucky you got me hooked.”
Rolling your eyes at him, you smack your teeth. “And now I'm throwing you back out to sea.”
You try again to hop off your seat, but he leans a hand against the bar and traps you there.
“Who’re you dressin’ up for then, hm?” He continues, getting in closer, bearing down until his lips brush the shell of your ear, whispering, “You know~  all guys are pigs. I guess you’re happy being slop in a trough.”
You put a hand on his chest, but it doesn’t budge him – and when he leans back again on his own, he flashes an even wider grin at you.
“I mean, hell- If I knew you were such a needy slut, I’d mercy-fuck you sooner- shoulda just said so-”
“Shut up.” You snap.
He tilts his head, feeling undeterred – actually, the opposite, offering another snicker. “Oh? Grown some balls under that skirt, too, hm?”
You make another grimace at his crudeness, deliberating throwing your drink in his face.
“What? A couple of compliments and free drinks, and suddenly, you think you’re too good for me?”
You’re reminded of the gap in your rank – why you should hold your tongue.
You sigh – defeatedly now. “Just leave me alone, Gojo-”
But he’s not done having his fun. 
“You’re nothing.” He flicks his tongue off his smile. “You’re a curseless loser- and you don’t have to have six eyes to see it.”
Hints of hurt flicker through the anger on your face, and your scowl wavers – turning into a pout while you look up at him, trying to hold it together. His grin spreads when he sees it, and his words grow colder, cutting deeper.
“Don’t kid yourself- only reason anyone’s lookin’ at yah twice s’cause it’s real hilarious watching your pathetic ass think you’re anything but a-”
“I get it.” You cut him off, voice weak. “You’ve made your point…”
You slide off your stool, squeezing past him with your head bowed to hide the tears welling in the corner of your eyes – threatening to slip if you waited a second longer.
But before you’re able to disappear into the crowd, you’re stopped once again by a hand wrapped around your upper arm.
“Before you go, just know… if you ever decide to dress up like a little slut again- I’ll take it as an invitation.”
The tears slip while you look up at him. 
He takes a second to admire it before letting go. Watching you rush out.
You stand outside in the cold and catch your breath. Wiping your cheeks with hitched cries before a jacket is slumped over your shoulders.
“I don’t think I wanna roleplay this anymore, Toru- It’s too much-” You sniffle, curling yourself against his chest with tiny fists balled in his shirt.
“I know-” He coos, wrapping his arms around you while resting his chin off the top of your head, swaddling you. “But it makes me so fucking hard. Feel-” He groans, rubbing his fattened groin into your stomach.
“I’m not in the mood anymore-” You whine in return, trying to nudge him and his boner off.
But he keeps you in his arms, hugging you tight, a whine escaping his own lips. “No- please don’t. Don’t leave me all blue-balled, angel. Please~”
“You’re so selfish.” You pout, allowing it.
“Yeah~ I’m the worst~” He agrees with a snicker, releasing you – holding your hand as he begins leading you to the car, a hurried spring in his step. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“You’re not even listening.” You argue, getting dragged along.
He places you against the door. “Please, I need you. I’ll beg if that’s what you want.” He moans hotly while kissing up your neck – fiddling for the keys in his pocket before unlocking and popping open the back seat. 
You don’t fight him, getting overwhelmed when he lays you down – his kisses never-ending and hunting for all those soft spots he knows make you weak. 
“Can’t believe people dare look at you-” He breathes, almost in a growl, lifting your thighs up around his torso while nestling between them. Rocking his bump against the thin lace of your panties. Voice growing more and more rowdy. “I oughta go back in and level ‘em all.”
He sucks a hickey into your neck, then a small ring of teeth on your collar. You whine at the bruising but don’t do anything to make him stop. Instead, your small hands reach out to his belt – unbuckling it and unbuttoning him, tugging his pants down until they bunch around where he’s knelt.
He makes the last liberties and finds his place between your thighs with a sigh.
“Buncha small-fries… everybody knows you’re mine.”
You sit in his lap when you’re done. Naked with your dress bunched around your midriff. Nips stiff and perky – too cute to ignore, so every now and again, he bows his head to give them a kiss or two. It never fails to make you squeal.
“You think you can fit into your old school uniform?” He mouths against you, licking kisses from your chest up to your neck – sucking your cheek before placing a chaste peck on the corner of your mouth. “I wanna poor milk on yah like I used to~
He’s always so clingy after cumming. You try and wrench away from the neediness, but it’s obvious you don’t give it much effort – mostly just scrunching your face. “You’re such a jerk.”
He hums in agreeance, and you feel his smirk through his kisses and then in his laugh. “Don’t cry, it’s not the type of milk you’re thinking of.”
You blush at the comment, ushering out a curt “Pervert.”
But he only pushes, moaning out a “Please~” while kneading your hip and rubbing your thigh – pressing his face into your neck, nuzzling you with eyes closed and mouth open.
So clingy, you feel embarrassed and ticklish under all the attention. Shaking your head. “It won't fit- it’s years ago-”
He pouts with a grumble. But it doesn’t take long before the smirk returns, inching back onto his lips. “I bet you’d fit in mine, though~”
You grow even more shy at the suggestion. “You’re so weird.”
He only laughs. “And you’re so in love with me~ which means you’re even weirder. Hah, loser?”
You frown at the nickname, again making an effort to twist away from the myriad of kisses and lovebites. “You’re insane.”
But he catches your face in his hand. Squishing your cheeks and turning your head to look back at him. “Damn right, I am.” He agrees, then turns it into a playful threat. “So you’d better never leave me. ‘You think I was a bully in school? Just imagine what a nightmare I’d be now. I’m a god; I’d get away with anything.”
You giggle at his silly dramatics. 
“You laugh, but I’m not joking.” He continues, still with your face in his hands. His big round eyes peeled. “I wouldn’t just stalk and terrorize you. I’d destroy your life if you ever left me. I’d make you lose your job, your apartment, your friends, your clan- I’d make sure you had no one left to turn to, nowhere left to run but right back to me.”
Your giggles die down, leaving a small smile playing on your lips before you press them softly against his. 
“And here I was thinking you’d just settle for sending creepy letters…”
He chuckles under his breath, “Childsplay.” Then kisses you again – this time a little longer. Giving your cheeks a squeeze before releasing you softly. Resting his forehead against yours with your noses touching.
His voice is a little more solemn now, genuinely serious this time. 
“But you would never leave me, right?”
The wet traces of his kisses cool in the absence of his lips while his thumbs feather your flesh so delicately. Holding you as though you were the most precious thing in the entire world.
You tilt your head and kiss him again – chastely and sweet.
“Never.”
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ilsanslut · 5 months
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TREAT YOU BETTER! [2]
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♰ featuring: itoshi sae + itoshi rin [blue lock]
♰ note: do i even need to mention how anticipated this part was? i will mention though, that it did take me quite some time to write this and i tried to proofread it to the best of my ability, but i do apologize if there are some minor errors. lastly, sorry for putting it off for so long due to my hiatus, i hope you all enjoy!
sypnosis: the itoshi brothers punish you for your 'infidelity'. wc: 6.5k content/trigger warning(s): 18+. fem/fem-bodied reader. POST BLUE LOCK. rin is 19. sae is 21. sibling rivalry. implied thick/chubby!reader. EXTRA MEAN!RIN. possessive!rin. cocky!sae. bully!itoshi brothers. they are both assholes in this fic. PRIOR MENTIONS OF CHEATING. degradation. unprotected sex. fingering. squirting. rough sex. DUBIOUS CONTENT. spanking. dacryphilia. slut-shaming. groping. double-penetration. implied size kink. skull/throat-fucking. choking/borderline asphyxiation. minor angst. hair pulling. manhandling. breeding. excessive mentions of drool/spit + rin's focused mode. IMPACT PLAY (face slapping, tit slapping, cock/pussy slapping). basically, they really fuck you up but they swear it’s out of love. aftercare! ꒷꒦
view part one of TREAT YOU BETTER here: part one.
If purgatory was real, you were most certainly in it now. Penalized for your past life's sins and transgressions, you were chained and perched atop a platform before your accusers, between the heavens and the depths of hell. Except now, that platform was Rin’s bed, and the only eyes upon you were his and Sae’s—the latter of which continued to bore into your own as the rhythmic slapping of his hips against your ass refused to cease. And even now, there was that sickening twinkle in his eyes, full of sinister joy as he basked in the warped satisfaction of your psychological suffering. How lovely he found you, those plump tears streaming down your ruined cheeks—if he could, he would frame that photo for his foyer. How your plump brims continued to babble out pleas for him to stop, for him to slow down, to please let you catch your breath so that you could process the situation you found yourself in, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t. Not until you creamed around his cock in front of your pretty lil’ boyfriend, that is.
While you, on the other hand, were currently battling the inner turmoil the two demonic brothers were putting you through. In your head, Rin’s word’s played on a loop like a broken record, plagued to repeat that same damned phrase over and over again. ‘You told me you would wait, Nii-chan.’
They plotted against you, laid out the trap, and like the oblivious bunny you are, you stumbled right into the wolf’s den.
“Y’see this, Rinnie~?” Sae drawled breathlessly, using his free hand that wasn’t holding your hair to cup your jaw, manipulating your head in his sibling’s direction while he placed his chin atop your shoulder. Forced to once again meet the eyes of your lover, you would immediately notice the contemptuous and repulsed glare he used to stab into you like a searing, hot iron blade straight into your heart. But you could never miss the desire beneath his teal eyes—desire that almost turned his current enmity for you into lust. Should you venture to cast your eyes any lower, you would also observe the brewing tent inside his sweatpants, pushing the fabric to its absolute limit.
“What d’you think is making poor Y/N cry like this, hm? The fact that she’s been caught in her infidelity or this fat cock pummeling her tight cunt?” You could feel Sae’s wolfish grin against your flesh as he spoke, dragging sharp canines across the skin of your shoulder as his own teal oculars met his brother’s.
“Both.” Rin stated bluntly before his expression would twist sourly, his upper lip curling into a sneer while his eyes narrowed on you with malicious intent. “Though if I were to guess, I bet it’s your cock since she’s a little cockslut who can’t be satisfied with just one man’s dick.” He spat as he reached his hand up to undo the zipper on his windbreaker, pulling it down slowly to reveal his equally, if not more, built form than Sae’s.
“Oh~” Sae jeered much to your chagrin, slowing the pace of his hips so he could press himself flush against your ass and languidly hump his cock into you. Unfortunately, you were unable to keep your delighted mewls from slipping past your brims as his thick cock caressed your fluttering walls. “Y’hear that, princess? Even your boyfriend thinks that you’re a cock-addicted whore.” He used his grip on your hair and chin to mockingly shake your head back and forth, feigning pity in his tone to add more fuel to your smoldering fire.
He leaned into your ear, soft lips pressing right against your lobe as his teeth captured the soft flesh between his teeth, snarling lowly. “How d’you think he’d feel knowing that you were about to make a mess on my cock, huh?”
Amidst your whimpers and pleasured mewls, you frantically shook your head, trying your hardest to deny the accusation as Rin’s fixed glare on you only grew more scrutinizing. “M’not, m’not gonna—!” On the contrary, your body would deny your vehement retorts made prevalent by your quivering thighs, heightened moans, and the sinful way your walls clung to Sae's cock.
“Don’t fucking lie to me” Sae hissed in your ear, releasing his grip on your chin to quickly swat the fattened flesh of your breast, drawing a squeal from your lips. “Y’don’t think I can’t feel this greedy cunt sucking me in? Trying to milk me of everything I have, huh?”
“N-No! Ngh~! Sae, I-I can’t—”
Your cries were silenced when an opposing hand would soon grip your chin, forcing your gaze to meet the second set of teal eyes belonging to none other than Rin. He glowered down at you, his blunt nails digging into the soft flesh of your cheeks. Even with your strong reluctance to acknowledge it, Rin's intense gaze was enough to make you clamp harder around Sae.
“Cum on his cock, Y/N.” He ordered, his voice barely above a twisted growl. “It’s the only thing pretty sluts like you are good at, right?” His grip loosened for naught but a second to drag the pad of his thumb across your drooling and babbling brims. “Unless, you’re not . . . care to try and prove me wrong?”
You tried—you really, really tried—to hold back your orgasm, to prove Rin wrong, but the tantalizing way Sae pounded his length into you was intoxicating—tainting your mind with one need and one need only—your release. Your fists pounded against Sae's thighs behind you, trying to get midfeilder off of you, or at the very least to slow down—but it was futile. Your back rumbled from the vibrations in Sae's chest as he chuckled, his forearm caging itself around your neck and the crease of his other forearm pulling back his balled fist to effectively lock you in an unforgiving headlock, depriving your brain of precious oxygen. With your resolve all but diminished, you finally came undone before both your boyfriend and his elder brother.
All you could see was white as your vision blurred and your body seized as the coil in your tummy snapped, allowing your juices to flow out of you, fruitfully drenching both your and Sae's lower halves as well as the sheets beneath you. Your cries and pleas of euphoria filled the room, drowning out the lewd and now wet smacking sounds of Sae's pelvis against your ass, as well as he and his brother's mocking jeers. Without both of their grips on your body, you would have collapsed from the sheer intensity of it all, your body going limp as the ferocity of your orgasm nearly knocked you unconscious.
“Fuck yeah,” Sae groaned into your ear, though you were barely able to register it as he fucked you through your orgasm. “That’s it; that’s the stuff. Ngh, fuck. M’gonna cum too, gonna fill your pretty pussy to the brim.” He grunted as his thrusts grew sloppy from his impending orgasm.
But it never came. At least, not in the way you expected it.
At the last second before Sae finally came inside of you, your body cruelly hit the sheets as you were no longer supported by the strength of both men. On top of that, you suddenly felt horribly empty as the midfielder’s cock was wrenched out of you, leaving you to clench around nothing—though you were hardly in any state to utter a rebuttal.
In your daze, you heard the sounds of a struggle and Sae's enraged shout as you writhed between the sheets and something hot shot against your ass cheeks and lower back. Groggily, you mustered enough strength to push yourself up onto your elbows to glance over your shoulder, only to see a fucked-out and infuriated Sae forced back onto his haunches as Rin held his light auburn locks in a vice grip, equally, if not more, irate than his elder.
“What the fuck, Nii-chan.” Rin snarled, tugging Sae by his locks as if to enunciate his anger. “I thought we agreed that you weren’t allowed to cum inside of her, so what the fuck was that, huh?”
At first, Sae remained silent and merely opted to match Rin's glower with a quiet one of his own. Your weary eyes slid down, taking in his semi-hard cock that rested against his toned thighs, strings of yours and his arousal clinging to his girth, the thick lifts and falls of his chest, and the sweat trickling down his abs. Then your eyes shifted to Rin, where you noted the hardness of his angrily-clenched jaw, the furious downward pull of his thick brows over his captivating teal eyes, blazing with anger and betrayal, and the undeniable bulge that tugged at the material of his sweatpants.
The way your pussy clenched around nothing at the sight was unavoidable.
They were both too fucking hot for your own good.
“It’s not my fault that her greedy fuckhole wouldn’t let me go.” Sae snapped, smacking Rin’s fist from his locks. “And besides. . .” Something sinister arose on his features, tainting his expression with the need to torment the forward. “You heard her, didn’t you? She likes the way my cock fucks her more than yours anyway.”
You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed after Sae’s bombshell of a statement. As you lay there, your heart raced, and a sense of unease washed over you, causing a pit of guilt to form in the pits of your tummy. Rin said nothing in response, staggering back from his brother with an incredulous and infuriated look before his face twisted into a maddened snarl, which Sae countered with a smug look. Had you looked even further, you could see the aura of their monstrous egos swirling around them, threatening to rip one another limb from limb.
“You motherfucker.” He growled, fists clenching with pure unadulterated rage as he lunged for his sibling yet again, only this time, you stepped in.
“Rin, stop!” You shouted, lunging forward to grab your boyfriend’s wrist before he could get his hands on Sae once more.
Rin's focus finally shifted to you, his eyes wide as clarity dawned on him for a moment, before the disdain and anger he felt for you at the time zeroed in on your form, immobilizing you where you kneeled. His fury was like a searing wave. It washed over you in that instant, and it was so intense that it made your knees weaken and your heart race. You’d seen him look at others like this before, but never directed at you before. His opponents, Isagi Yoichi, Shidou Ryusei, and even Sae on occasions, sure, but you? Never before in your life.
“You.” His tone was gutteral and animalistic, unlike anything you’d ever heard from Rin before.
Sae took advantage of the situation at that precise moment to slide off the mattress and out of dodge, but not before giving you a knowing wink and a sly look. Rin didn’t even seem to react to this. In fact, now that Sae was out of the picture, his arm dropped to his side, and you became the new target of his wrath.
It was as though you were peering into the eyes of a savage beast—of a starving lion who had finally cornered a gazelle who continuously fled and eluded the beast from her fate. Before you could react, Rin’s hands were on you, a strong hand wrapped around your neck to lift you from your haunches and into a proper kneeling position so that he could glower at you at eye level.
“Don’t you think for a second, Y/N, that you’re innocent in all of this.” He was seething, hissing through clenched teeth as you could feel his breath wafting over your frightened visage. “You know, the only reason that I returned home early from my jog was because Nii-chan told me that he had just arrived home? Do you know that it only took me ten minutes to come back after that?” You could feel his grip trembling in your veins, like he was holding himself back from lashing out at you further. "You mean to tell me that it only took him 600 seconds to strip you down and fuck you stupid on his cock in the mere minutes that he was here, huh? For you to forget your loyalty and love for me in only 10 minutes, Y/N?"
Tears that you hadn’t even realized had begun to spill streamed down your cheeks. Your heart ached with the knowledge that your actions had shattered trust and betrayed the trust of someone who had placed faith in you. In the midst of your tears, you struggled to find the right words to express the depths of your remorse. You wanted to take back your choices and undo the damage you had done, but you knew that you couldn't erase the past. It was far too late for that.
“But you know what,” Rin continued, his grip on your throat as well as his expression softening. “I’m not mad.” He whispered, his voice suddenly sincere. His hand left your neck entirely in favor of stroking your hair lovingly with his other caressing your cheek, a stark contrast to the unbridled wrath he had displayed toward you only moments before.
You blinked, dumbfounded. But you could not help but lean into his tenderness and crave his affection after such a strenuous situation, especially when he offered such gentle touches and words.
“Y-You’re not?” You whispered, your voice hopeful, as tears welded up in your eyes for a different reason now—out of joy.
Rin shook his head with the faintest of smiles on his face. “I’m not . . .” His tone remained soft, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead that you found yourself falling into. Almost immediately, you were melting into him, graceful for your boyfriend’s compassion.
“I’m furious.”
In an instant, a switch had flipped, and once again, Rin turned the tables on you. Before you could respond, his fist became unbearably tight at the crown of your hair, pulling mercilessly at the roots before he tugged your gaze to meet his, ablaze with fury. Now, it was your turn to look betrayed as your pretty eyes widened with both incredulity and fear as you gaped at your lover and the sinister look in his eye.
“But don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll feel much, much better after I blow some steam off by using your pretty body.”
You could barely manage a squeal as you were soon manhandled atop Rin's bed until you were lying on your back with your head hanging over the edge. Your vision turned upside down, and you craned your neck to look up at Rin, who was busy ridding himself of his sweatpants and boxers until he was finally able to tug free his painfully hard cock right above your face. Your mouth watered at the sight of your lover’s well-endowed length at its full mast, thick, hot, and sweltering with a vein bulging along its otherwise smooth underside. His blushed tip drooled with pre, which he used to lube his hand as he pumped himself above you, unable to keep his gaze from wandering over your lewd, plump, and womanly body.
“Fuck,” He swore as he tossed his head back, allowing you to watch as his balls clenched and length twitched from the wave of pleasure that overcame him.
You noticed movement in the space between Rin's muscular thighs as you watched Sae sit in Rin's desk chair behind him, one arm resting on the arm rest while the other languidly stroked his semi-hard cock and one leg resting atop the other at the ankle. When he caught your gaze, he shot you a wolfish smirk, using your slick to roll his thumb around his reddened tip.
“Don’t look at me, princess. Look at your pretty boyfriend.”
At his command, your gaze rose, only to see Rin using his thumb to spread your lips and guide his cock into the warmth of your mouth. As you took inch by inch into your throat, you could hear your lover groaning above you, swearing something about you swallowing him down like it was nothing. Though it really wouldn’t be a punishment if he made things easy for you, would it?
Soon, he reached the hilt of your throat, and his balls were firmly nestled against your nose, allowing you to inhale his salty yet pleasant musk. Both of his large palms reached down to grab the sides of your head before his hips began to thrust himself in and out of your tight cavern, gradually picking up his pace until he was pistoning in and out of you without mercy. You spluttered and gagged, your eyes squeezing shut as you focused on breathing through your nose when you could as his balls pummeled relentlessly into your nose, making sure to smother you with his heavy orbs each time.
“Hngh, shit, Y/N!” Rin swore, his eyes torn between fixating on the sinful bounce of your large breasts from his unrelenting thrusts or the way his girth bulged your throat every time he bottomed out inside of you. “Taking this dick like it’s nothing, huh?” Rin hissed through clenched teeth as he grabbed both of your breasts in his palms and delivered merciless squeezes. “This is what sluts like you were made for, hm? Swallowing down cocks with no efforts, draining them of every last drop?” He paused, tossing his head back to groan as his balls churned beneath him. He had been pent up for so long that he knew he wouldn’t last any longer. “Never content with just one man’s dick inside of you, always craving more . . Fuck~!"
As 'effortlessly' as he described you accepting his length and brutish treatment, you still needed to breathe, which was proving to be an impossible task as his thrusts became more animalistic and sloppy. The harsh sounds of his tip bullying the end of your throat resonated off of the room, the wet “glrk, glrk, glrks” filling your ears and making your cheeks burn at the vulgarity of it all. Your hands reached up to his muscular thighs, seeking purchase from his lethal thrusts, only to have both of your wrists seized in one large hand and pinned atop your breasts. His other hand went to your nose and tightly pinched it, effectively stopping your only source of life—breathing—and adding to his savagery. The distinct pleasure moans he once emitted had devolved into almost feral snarls and grunts, as if you were being ravaged by a beast rather than your typically stoic boyfriend.
“Take it, fuckin’ take it.” He spat as his hips stuttered. Then, without warning, he pressed himself against your face, the base of his cock hilting at your lips as his balls smushed flush against your nose, further deepening your struggle to breathe. You soon found yourself preoccupied with not choking as Rin's hot, steaming cum shot down your throat, forcing you to swallow it all down. That did not stop you from flailing beneath Rin, though, and he effortlessly wrangled you down and made you take rope after rope of his seed into your spasming throat.
You whined aloud, attempting to yell out to him that if he didn’t let up, you were about to pass out, but it was clear that he didn’t give a damn if you remained conscious or not. That is, until a few more agonizing seconds passed and black spots started to obscure your vision when Rin freed himself from your throat, his semi-hard shaft hanging over your face with strings of your saliva and his seed still clinging to his length.
You gasped for air, greedily gulping down sweet, sweet breaths of pure oxygen, and your lungs were more than thankful for the reprieve. Despite your blood pumping furiously in your ears, you could still make out the sound of a chuckle from behind Rin, belonging to none other than Sae.
“Damn, Rinnie. I thought you were going to kill her.” He snickered, still lazily stroking at his dick, which twitched in his palm when your eyes met yet again.
But there was no use concentrating on him, because Rin retreated a few steps and blocked your view once more. Looking up at him with your thoroughly ruined visage, you nearly gasped at the untamed lust swimming within his eyes. It was the same expression he would have when his ego took over on the field—hungry and damn near starving.
“Not yet.”
You felt rough hands grabbing at your body again, tossing you about as though you were a ragdoll, until you found yourself in an all-too-familiar position on your hands and knees. Those same hands seized at your plump hips and snatched you back until your ankles hung off of the bed, forcing a squeal to rip from your lips. Your hips jumped as Rin's blunt cock tip touched your clit, and your toes curled as he gave you several sharp smacks of his cock to your cunt.
“R-Rinnie.” You whimpered, casting a sidelong glance at him, your mouth slightly open in defiance of his actions, pleading for a break, if only to catch your breath before he pummeled you until you couldn’t see straight. However, your voice was cut short when you felt his hands seize a handful of your hair and tug at your head until your back was hard against his chest.
“Sluts don’t talk, Y/N.” He spat against your cheek. “They moan, get their pussies used, their throats fucked, and only say, 'Yes, sir, give me more.’ Do you understand me?”
You nodded silently, knowing that trying to talk sense into his head when he was acting this way was a fruitless endeavor.
“Good girl.” His lips brushed against your cheek in a fleeting kiss. “I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth unless it’s begging me for me, understood?”
With the knowledge that answering out loud would be foolish, you nodded once more, suppressing a startled cry as he quickly brought you back down into his sheets, pressing your back into an almost painful arch with his hand planted firmly on your head. Rin seized his cock and sank it inch by inch into your tight cunt, evoking deep, guttural keens from you both without saying another word. He gave you a breathy, arousing laugh that curled your toes. He couldn’t believe that after all of this, your pretty pussy still proceeded to greedily suckle his cock as though it just couldn’t get enough.
He gave you no time to respond before he launched into his ferocious pace, pouring all of his anger, contempt, and hatred toward you into your abused hole in a way that left you feeling nothing but pure euphoria. Shouts and high-pitched cries of pleasure tore from your throat against your better judgment, partially muffled by the sheets he forced your head into. Your head was spinning, and your thoughts were focused only on how deliciously Rin pounded into you. His cock's mouth-watering curve made your thighs tremble and your knees weaken beneath you as he relentlessly pounded into your sweet spot. Observing your shaking limbs, Rin steadied your hips with both of his hands, using his improved grip to thrust more deliberately into your cunt, his thick girth bottoming out inside of you each time.
“Look a’that” Rin drawled breathlessly amidst the rhythmic clapping of his pelvis against your ass, the vulgar bouncing off of the walls. “My dick is so good you just can’t shut the fuck up, huh?”
“Ah, yes, yes, God, yes, Rin~!” You babbled, unable to stop the tears of ecstasy that squeezed from your pretty eyes.
“—But you love Nii-chan’s dick more than mine, right?”
Suddenly his ferocious pace turned into lackadaisical humps, ruining what immense pleasure had been building up within you and corrupting your mind with the need for more. You whined, one partially in desperation and the other in frustration. You moved your hips, trying to fuck yourself on Rin's cock, while craning your neck to get a better look at your boyfriend. Rin was no idiot, though. Having already sensed your intentions, his grip steeled on your hips, preventing you from moving further, much to your vexation.
“Ah, ah, Y/N.” Rin chided, the faintest hint of a smug smirk tugging at the corners of his lips with his eyes narrowed in amusement. He firmly pressed your ass against his hips, circling his length inside of you with agonizingly slow hip rotations that taunted you with just enough stimulation that it left you mewling for more. “Answer me first, you needy bitch.” A gleam of sadism twinkled in his eye, making your heart lurch in his chest at how closely he resembled his brother.
“N-No, God, Rin.” You whispered breathlessly, shaking your head in an attempt to think clearly amidst your cockdrunk haze. However, each subtle rotation of his hips against your ass stirred your thoughts in a way that only muddied them further. “I love your cock more, I-I swear—”
“—So you’re a cheater, a whore, and a dirty little liar, Y/N?”
Your breath hitched in your throat, pushing yourself up from the mattress to now see Sae standing in front of you, glowering down at you with the same, if not more, sadistic gleam in his eye. Not daring to break your gaze from his own, you watched through your peripheral vision as his fists pumped his hard shaft only mere inches away from your face.
“Here I was, thinking you had more shame than this.” Sae huffed, clicking his tongue as his thumb stroked over your swollen bottom lip. “Yet here you are, so desperate for yet another cock in your drooling fuckhole that you’d do anything—even lie—just to relive the feeling of having what’s left of your pretty lil’ brains fucked out, right?”
“I—I . . .”
Resonably, you were at a loss for words, but there was no need to worry as Rin spoke up for you, “And you can’t even answer him? Pathetic. I bet if we let all of those lukewarm fuckfaces from Blue Lock run a train on you, you’d love every second of it, huh, princess?” He further accentuated his point with a hard, trained thrust deep into your womb. You swear he even grazed your cervix.
“No, no! I-I only want you, Rin. I only want you, I love you!”
You squeezed your eyes shut, and, although you were oblivious to it, the brothers shared a look with one another. Their silence was deafening, and even Rin’s hips had stilled within you. However, before you were able to voice your confusion, you would feel sharp, phallic taps against your cheek. You didn’t even have to open your eyes to know what it was.
“Good girl.” Sae cooed condescendingly as though he were talking to a mutt worthy of praise.
“Probably the most truthful statement you said all night,” Rin followed, albeit far quieter than his sibling as his thrusts once again resumed, drawing tantalizing moans from your lips. “Then tell me after this, which one of us fucks you better, yeah? And don’t you dare.” He paused, using his large hand to rain down a set of smacks on both of your pillowy ass cheeks forcing a cry to rip from your lips. “Dream of lying to me.”
You nodded as best you could against the force of Sae pressing his cock against your face, using his thumb to hold his length taut as he literally fucked your face with it. Immediately, Rin’s brutal pace resumed again. Using his newly acquired leverage and his bruising grip on your hips, he pressed his foot against the mattress next to your knee and proceeded to fuck himself deeper into you. It felt like he was trying to pry you open with each thrust. Had it not been for Sae taking the opportunity to shove his cock into your mouth the moment you opened it to muffle your cry of ecstasy, you were certain that the neighbors would’ve thought you were being murdered.
In a way, though, it was almost like you were.
It was like you were being sandwiched between two killers, only instead of making you feel agony, they were both hellbent on delivering the most utmost pleasure to you—Rin rearranging your guts from behind and Sae feeding you inch after inch of his thick cock, neither one of them stopping until they were satisfied with having your belly pumped full of their cum.
My, the Itoshi brothers were truly the devil, weren’t they?
“Hngh, fuck. F-Fuck!” Rin snarled from behind you, his once quiet moans now morphing into beastly grunts and animalistic growls. You were certain that the blunt tips of his nails were now slicing into you from his strength, one of his hands dragging down your lower back to leave reddened marks in their wake until they marked your rippling ass, which was soon pelted with a few more furious swats.
“Stupid cumslut, grippin’ me so fuckin’ tight.” His voice grew raspy as his head tossed back in euphoria, carnal pants and heaves ripping from his throat so frequently that it almost did feel like you were being ravaged by a beast.
It was to the point where Sae's cock was slipping out of your mouth in favor of his palms holding your cheeks, and turning your head to look over your shoulder at your lover. Though still as eager for his release as Rin was, he continued to thrust his cock lazily against your face and pillowy brims.
“My god, princess. Look at what you’re turning him into.”
It was a sight to behold—one that you had only witnessed for yourself once before at the Blue Lock vs. U-20 game. Rin’s brows were raised, and his teal oculars were wide, swirling with untamable lust and desire as though he were being consumed by it. His lips were parted, his jaw dropped partially as his tongue dangled out of his mouth, and globs of crystalline drool pooled over his pink muscle, oozing down his chin and onto your abused cheeks below. He wasn’t looking at you. (You don’t know if you would be able to handle it if he did.) Instead, his gaze engrossed itself in the way your ass plapped against his pelvis, the sticky lines of your juices, and his drool connecting the two of you in a way that was beyond intimate. He was intoxicated, thoroughly pussy-drunk as the only thought in his mind was, ‘Get pregnant, get pregnant, get Y/N fucking pregnant.’
The sight alone was so arousing that you couldn’t help the way your pussy clenched around his cock, strangling it further to the point where a near feral snarl ripped through his now clenched teeth, bared at you in ferocity.
“Don’t fucking do that, fucking bitch.” He snapped, delivering another smack to your ass as his gaze finally raised to meet your own, promising lethality.
“M’sorry! I-I’m sorry, Rinnie!” You wailed against Sae’s cock as Rin’s hips slammed into you with such malice that you felt your legs going numb from the overwhelming pleasure.
“No th’fuck you’re not.” He slurred, just as drunk on the stimulation as you were. “This is what the fuck you’ve wanted this entire time, isn’t it? Wanted me to fuck you up? Make you scream from my ngh! From my cock ruining your pretty little pussy, isn’t it?”
“Y-Yes! God, yes, yes, Rin, please fuck me up more!”
“Yeah? Y’want me to put a pretty baby in you? Want me to make you a mommy, Y/N? Make that gorgeous tummy swollen with my kids, yeah?”
“Y-Yes, please! Please, please, make me a mommy! M-make me yours!”
“Silly, girl.” He snarled, delivering another quick swat to your ruined ass. “You were always mine.”
The idea of filling you to the brim with his seed and claiming you in a way that no man could ever claim—as the mother of his children—caused his erratic pace to falter and grow sloppier by the minute.
“Mine.” He growled. “Mine, mine, all fucking mine!”
Then, almost in perfect unison—pristine synchronization—you came together. Hips smothered firmly against your ass, he pumped rope after rope of his hot, thick cum inside of you, aiming deep into your womb with every intention of impregnating you. While you, on the otherhand, were unable to hold yourself up any longer, collapsing on the mattress as your orgasm washed over you. A barrage of your sweet juices fired over Rin’s cock, pelvis, thighs, and the poor sheets beneath you. Before you had any time to regain your bearings, you felt another tap on your cheek of the same phallic length from earlier.
“You forgot about me, pretty? C’mon, open that mouth for me one more time, yeah?”
Exhausted, you did as he asked without resistance, allowing your jaw to fall slack just enough for Sae to slip his cock into it. In a few pumps with his fist, the midfilder gladly fed you thick ropes of his seed, painting your mouth with his sticky release, which you wearily sucked down.
Then, unceremoniously, the two brothers collapsed beside you atop the ruined sheets.
The three of you lay there, completely depleted of all that you possessed. You were unquestionably the worst of the three, with deep teeth marks, scratches from blunt nails, bruises from fingerprints, and splotches of darkening hickies all over your body. Had anyone known any better, you appeared as though you had been mauled by savages—those very same savages who lay exhausted beside you.
After several much needed beats of deep silence, you felt the stirring of both of them pushing themselves up from the bed, and hands that were once so rough and unforgiving on your body were now handling you with the utmost care as though you were a porcelain doll made of the finest glass. As you walked the thin line bordering consciousness and unconsciousness, you felt warm, moist towels caressing your thighs, chest, and forehead, ridding you of any filth that tainted your once-supple skin. The sheets that had become beyond soiled from all of your fluids were gently lifted from beneath you and replaced with warm ones that had just come out of the dryer that had been running before Sae arrived. Just as you were about to fall asleep, your body was manipulated once more, this time into another equally warm one, causing your heavy lids to flutter open to focus on none other than your boyfriend—Rin's teal oculars.
“You still with me?” He inquired, his previously harsh tone softening to gentle and tender, as if speaking any louder would shatter your fragility.
You nodded weakly, seeking solace in his warmth and soft body, snuggling your petite frame into his. Rin quietly returned the favor, running his fingers through your hair and giving you occasional massages in the spots where he and Sae got too rough with you.
Speaking of, you heard Rin's door open and saw Sae standing in front of you, adorning a pair of black designer boxers.
“Here.” The midfeilder said plainly, passing a miniature carton of strawberry milk your way with a straw poked through the center.
Clearly in no position to receive such generosity, Rin accepted it for you, gently maneuvering you into a position where you could comfortably sip the much needed liquid into your dehydrated body. As you did so, Rin’s head rested atop your own, but not before he placed a tender, sweet kiss on your forehead full of love, unlike the one from earlier that was meant to lure you into a false sense of security. This is exactly what you needed after such arduous affairs, being held in your lover’s strong arms while enjoying the best strawberry milk you’ve ever had.
What should’ve been a cute moment was interrupted by Sae, who, with a look of disgust on his features, stated, “You two are disgusting.”
“Fuck you too, Nii-chan.” Rin shot over his shoulder, not missing the way Sae gave him the finger on his way out as he slammed his room door shut, leaving you and Rin in what should have been a comfortable silence.
But it was hampered by the sense of ambiguity that pervaded your relationship. The weight of past transgressions and tribulations weighed upon you both so heavily that it was nearly suffocating, threatening to take you both alive if it wasn’t for—
“I’m sorry.” The two of you stated in unison before, rather comically, whipping your heads to stare at one another, bewildered.
“Y/N.” Rin sighed heavily, shaking his head in denial. “You shouldn’t be the one apologizing. I should be. I made it seem like everything was all your fault when it was really Sae and I’s.” Another sigh drew from his lips as the realization dawned on him of the agreement he had made with his older brother to allow them to share you, one, without your prior consent, and two, without your knowledge. Not to mention, pinning the entire thing on you as though you were the infidelious one here.
“Y-Y/N.” His voice quivered. His gaze, too ashamed to look at you any further, drew to the ceiling. In the bright lights of his room, you watched as his eyes glazed over, tears that he refused to let fall clearly stinging at his irises. His face was etched with anguish; the weight of his actions had hit him like a sledgehammer, and his distress was palpable. “I-I’m sorry.” He whispered, daring himself to glance in your direction.
“Rinnie.” You uttered softly, biting back a wince as your sore arm rose to gently cup his cheek, the pad of your thumb swiping at his waterline to catch a straying tear. He wasn’t too good with words of sincerity, and you knew that—you wouldn’t press him for more. “I forgive you, so please don’t cry.” As you leaned in to give him a soft peck on the jaw, you noticed that you also felt the familiar sting of tears pricking your eyes. “You’re going to make me cry too, baby.”
Both of you were unable to control the gentle and quiet laughter that jostled your beings. And there it was—the moment of reprieve where the pressure of the unknown was lifted, replaced by a profound sense of reconciliation and renewal. Your eyes met with an intensity that conveyed unspoken apologies, forgiveness, and the promise of a fresh beginning. You two felt more intimate and connected to one another at that precise moment than you had ever experienced.
After you had finally finished the last of your drink, Rin took the empty carton from you and set it on his nightstand. You then proceed to curl into his chest, to which he ensared you in his grasp, entwining your limbs in his. With your head nestled against his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart soothed you and eased your mind or any lingering parasites. That is when you sensed it: the tranquil siren's song of sleep drawing you deeper and deeper into its pacifying depths.
However, before you could finally embrace slumber’s sweet call, Rin’s soft voice called out to you once more.
“Y/N?”
“Hm?”
“I love you.”
“. . . I love you too, Rinnie.”
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fangirl-dot-com · 5 months
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Reader Lore - Born to Break Records
So this is a little filler for between now and the next chapter. This chapter might have triggers for death, abusive parents, and brief mentions of bullying. If these make you uncomfortable, then please feel free to skip this chapter. The synopsis is the reader’s life up until her first race win in F2. 
Welcome to Reader-Lore
2003
The cry of a baby filled the sterile walls of the delivery room. Pants filled in the quiet moments, but were mostly covered. The wailing baby was placed into the arms of the waiting mother, the father looking down on the two. 
“It’s a girl,” the nurse told them, writing something down in a book. 
The atmosphere suddenly changed. The once hopeful air was dampened with disappointment. The father sighed loudly, turning his head to look out the window. The mother, who had held her baby tight, loosened her grip. Her nose was now scrunched in borderline disgust. 
The nurse, feeling the off energy, offered to take the baby girl. She made some excuse about needing to weigh her and make sure that she was healthy, things that could have waited until after the parents bonded. 
The mother was quick to hand her over, waiving her hand as though it wasn’t a big deal. The father had now moved farther away from the hospital bed. 
The baby had started to wail once more after being taken from the arms of her mother. Arms that she thought were safe. Arms connected to the body that had cared for her for 9 months. Arms that suddenly did not hold her tight. Arms that willingly gave her away to some stranger. 
Once the nurse and frightened infant left the from, the mother and father looked at each other. 
“I wanted a boy,” the male murmured.
The female rolled her eyes, “I know. And so did I. But we don’t have a choice anymore.” 
“We do. Could always leave her here. A boy would be able to break records. A girl is useless.” 
“And be arrested? No thank you.” The mother rolled on her side, arms around her front. The father just huffed. 
“Everything we talked about, our future, is now a wasted memory.” 
The mother looked at the door with a sliver of hope, although, it was too small for anyone to see it. “Maybe she can do everything that you wanted a boy to do.” 
“We can just have another baby,” the father persisted. 
“You heard the doctor. It would be too dangerous for me to have another. What’s done is done. You can walk out now if you can’t commit.” The woman went to say something else, but was interrupted by whimpers. 
The nurse had walked back in, now with a swaddled baby. Begrudgingly, the mother held her hands out to take the bundle of blankets. She looked down at the brand new baby, but her heart didn’t swell with pride like she read about. Her heart filled with distain, as if the baby were a Christmas present that she didn't want. But this time, she couldn’t return the baby like she’d return a gift at whatever store it was bought from. 
The father had taken a few steps closer to the bed, but kept his distance. There wasn’t a bone in his body that actually wanted the child. 
“We still need a name for her,” the nurse stated, clicking her pen. 
The mother glanced to the father before saying, “Y/n. Her name is Y/n.” 
2008 – Five years old 
The air was stuffy, filled with the scent of petrol and burnt rubber. The quiet that could have been was broken by the rattles of engines and throttles. You wished for silence. 
You wanted nothing to do with this. But, you’d rather get in a kart then flinch at your father’s hand. You had been allowed to wander around the track. The big boys were driving now. And by big boys, you meant 11- and 10-year-olds. They were bigger than you and drove karts that were so much faster than the little one that you had. 
You looked around. There was definitely not a shortage of girls hanging around, but none were dressed like you. Most were the older or younger sisters of the drivers. Their pink tops, paired with shorts or skirts, flowed in the wind. None of them were wearing an old itchy race suit that was two sized too big. They were allowed to wear sandals, while you had to endure the tight racing shoes that your dad had definitely yanked on the laces too much. It wasn’t your fault that you hadn’t learn to tie them yet. 
You watched their hair bounce in the tall pony tails tied on the tops of their heads. They didn’t need their hair to be wrapped in a bun at the base of their necks so that it could fit into a helmet. 
You wished that your mom and dad would allow you to cut it off so that you could be the boy that they wanted. You knew that they didn’t want you, your little mind was able to catch on to things like that. 
You understood patterns. Patterns on the track helped you know what areas to avoid. Patters on the kart taught you where to put your feet and hands. Patterns told you that moms and dads should be happy for their children, and not yell at them. Patters revealed that children did not flinch when their parents patted their heads or caressed their cheeks. 
The wind blew loud as the kart race came to a close. You knew that you needed to get back quickly to where you parents were waiting, but you wanted to see the winners, wanted to see them taste a victory that you were so desperate for. 
You squeezed past the other boys and looked up at the three on the podium. The one on the lowest step wasn’t rememberable. His hair looked the same as others. His height wasn’t tall or small, just in the middle. 
But the boys on the other two steps were. The one on the second pedestal had a shaggy hair cut, with bangs that pointed down. You had seen him before, surrounded by his family. A little brother, a big brother, mom and dad, and then a man who looked at the boy with stars in his eyes. 
You wished someone looked at you like that. 
“And in second place, Charles Leclerc.” So that was his name. Sharl. His eyes were bright green and filled with light and hope. But a sadness still glazed them as he looked up at the boy on the top step. 
The boy who towered over the crowd had blond sandy hair. For a winner, he didn’t look happy. His blue eyes didn’t hold the same brightness that the green eyes had. 
“And our winner, Max Verstappen!” 
That was a nice name. Max. You wanted to look at the boy winner for a few more moments. Engrave his image into your mind. Because, you didn’t know when the next time you’d be able to do this. Your dad would probably ban you from such things, saying something like you didn’t need to look at something you’d never achieve.
But you were hungry. 
You were taken out of your watching by the announcement that your own race was going to start soon. And you weren’t in your kart. 
You rushed through the crowd, trying to put on your bright pink helmet on. You could put your gloves on while you got into your kart. 
By the time you got there, your dad was already looking at you with a disappointed look. Your mother was nowhere to be found. 
“Where have you been,” he hissed, hitting your helmet. 
“I wanted to see the podiums,” you muttered, getting your gloves on. 
Your dad shook his head. “What have I told you about that?” 
“That I shouldn’t look at things that I can’t get.” 
“Exactly. Now get in your kart.” 
You did as he said. You heart was pounding as you taxied the little thing onto the smaller track. You were able to be seen by everyone, your helmet acting as a little flag. It seemed to say “look at me! I’m the only girl trying to be on par with all these boys! Watch me fail!” 
But you were determined to prove them all wrong. 
By the last lap, you were right behind one more kart. One more pass and you could win. Prove your dad wrong. Prove everyone wrong. 
You watched as he broke your pattern. The pattern that would help you win. 
He made a mistake, and you welcomed it with glee. 
You passed over the finish line with a significant gap behind you and that boy. At the stopping point, you parked your kart and stepped out, exhaling sharply. 
You thought that people would cheer and shout, but the silence that you had wished for earlier had come to haunt you. 
You won and there was nothing to celebrate. 
2015 – Twelve years old 
Everyone thought he was crazy. There was no way that he was going to sponsor a 12 year old in karting, a female none the less. 
He wasn’t crazy. How could he not want to sponsor you, a consecutive race winner in your league. He constantly watched you drive circles around the boys who would berate you in their free time. He watched as you would let their words roll right off your back. You didn’t let their words get to you.
But, he was your godfather and he had a sense of responsibility for you. He watched as you climbed out of the kart, looking around trying to find a familiar face. 
He could see your eyebrows raise through the visor when you caught sight of him. 
“LoLo!” you yelled, quickly sprinting over to him. He was ready to catch you, but not expecting the hit with your helmet. 
He let out an oof as you knocked him slightly off balance. 
“Hey kid! You did good!” He rubbed your helmet as if it were hair. You quickly unbuckled the pink contraption and took it off, hair sticking to your forehead. 
You looked around before your shoulders slumped. You kicked a rock as you spoke, “They didn’t come.” 
Lorenzo had noticed a lack of your parents as soon as he arrived. He would have come earlier to help you with your kart if he had known that they weren’t here. He looked down at you with sad eyes, and that’s the last thing you wanted. 
You always wished for someone to look at you with so much love and affection that it poured out of their soul. But you only ever got looks of hatred and pity. 
He rubbed your shoulder, “It’s ok kid. But you wanna know something?” He crouched down to your level, pant legs getting damp with moisture. You nodded your head. “LoLo gets to sponsor you!” 
You gasped, eyes tearing. Even though you were twelve, you knew the weight of the situation. Your parents had told you that because you were winning, you were embarrassing them. And because you were embarrassing them, they wouldn’t pay any more years of karting after this one. You wailed when you told Lorenzo the next time you saw him. And he saw your heart break into itty bitty pieces while you did. 
When you left, he looked into every possibly way that he could keep you in karting. The only option was to sponsor you.
And sponsor you he did. He emailed, texted, and called multiple companies, trying to get their support. He would get sponsorship to put on your kart so that you could carry the logos proudly. He had your new one sitting in the back of his old truck, but that was a surprise. It was blue with two proud bulls on the very front. He had done it. He found you a sponsor that would keep you going for a couple of years. 
His thoughts were interrupted by you actually knocking him over. He knew his sweater was getting damp, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to see you smile for the rest of his life. 
You were too busy whispering thank you after thank you for you to notice the weird looks that you were getting. Looks from the boys that you had just beaten. Looks from the parents who didn’t know the worries of paying for karting. 
He quickly picked you up and took you back over to get your cart. He helped you load it on the mover and rolled it over to his truck. You wouldn’t be needing this kart that was almost falling apart. You had a new one, and you’d be all right. 
You talked the whole way home, animatedly moving your hands around as you described your latest win. Your hands rolled over the other as you showed him how you turned the wheel, barely clipping the front of the kart who wanted to push you off. 
Lorenzo only looked at you with pure adoration. A look that you wanted so much, but were too busy to see due to your explanations of your imaginations. 
Maybe he was crazy, but he didn’t think so. 
2019 – Sixteen years old (F3)
Your eyes were pricked with tears as you read the letter you received in the mail. The big letters of DISOWNMENT flashed in the reflections. They had done it weeks ago, according to the date on the top of the paper. By now, your things were probably thrown away or burned.   
You had just finished the F4 category and were making a name for yourself in F3. You couldn’t deal with this now. One of the management people came and knocked on your door, telling you that the race was about to start. 
You crumpled the paper up and threw it in the trash. If they didn’t need you, you didn’t need them. That was the lie you continually told yourself. Of course a girl needed her parents. They were the people who were supposed to nurture you and help you. 
But they never did that in the first place. At least you didn’t have to constantly buy drug store foundation and concealer and try to explain the black and blue around your eyes after it melted off during the race. No more flinching. No more hiding. 
Just no more. 
You would call Lorenzo and see if you could stay with him for a bit during the break. You would have to or you wouldn’t have a place to sleep. 
Your breath shuddered at the thought. 
You told yourself that you knew this was coming. They had cut all contact with you months ago and weren’t spotted when you went home during the last break. 
You allowed the tears to fall as you got your helmet on. No one would see the streams as you placed your visor down. You were now hidden away from the weird looks that everyone sent you. No girl had ever made it this far. 
Sure as you grew, there were girls in karting. That number seemed to increase in F4. Most of them were from the driver academies. You were still able to participate due to multiple sponsorships that Lorenzo had gotten you. 
But with increase, there has to be a decrease. You were currently the only female in F3 and were set to be the only female to make it to F2. Well, that’s what everyone told you. Your stats reflected your need to prove yourself. 
Race win after race win helped thrust you through the blockades built by men. They wouldn’t stop you, and you didn’t want to stop. Not now, not ever. 
Each race win fueled your hunger in this world. And it only grew and grew. 
Your tears were brushed away by the wind brushing through your car. At that moment, you told yourself that you wouldn’t cry over your parents ever again. They didn’t deserve them. 
You could cry about other things. Such as passing over the finish line, marking your first win in F3. 
You constantly showed the world that you could do it. You wanted to cry again as you listened to your anthem. You wanted to cry when the boys celebrated with each other, leaving you out. You wanted to cry as you walked back to your “motor home,” knowing that it was put up quickly for you. 
The time you finally let yourself cry was when you were talking with Lorenzo on the phone. Your eyes were tired and dehydrated by the time you quit. Lorenzo was able to calm you down. He told you that he would take care of everything, take care of you. 
You knew you wouldn’t be able to see him much though. The F3 calendar was far busier than the F4 one had. And you knew the moment you entered F2, time for relaxation would be far and few between. 
But you had Lorenzo to fall back on when the times got hard. You could always count on him. 
2020 – Seventeen years old (F2)
It was too soon. Too too soon. It wasn’t fair either. Your tears had not stopped streaming down your face since you arrived. The sterile smell itched your nose, but you needed to be here. For him. 
He had gotten paler in the few moments since you had been there. His breath rattled with each inhale and exhale. And each breath brought more tears. You didn’t want to let him go. 
“Please LoLo. I can’t do this without you,” you whispered, knowing that he probably would not hear you. The doctors told you that he was far too gone for that, but you liked to believe that he was still listening. “You can’t leave me like everyone has. I can’t be alone. I need you.” You put your face down in the blankets, squeezing his hand. 
The nurses stood in the door, with tears of their own. They were watching a child lose the only family that she had left. 
You inhaled sharply, wiping your tears away.
“You know I’m going to do it. For you. It’s only ever been you. You’ve been my best friend and I don’t know how I’m going to get through this scary world without you.” You hiccupped. “But, I know that you need to go. And I’m being selfish for keeping you here.” 
You stood and kissed his forehead. 
“Thank you LoLo, for everything. I love you.” 
His chest rose, fell, rose, and fell. 
But didn’t rise again. The multiple beeps from the different machines let you know that he was gone. And he wasn’t coming back. 
One of the nurses came and rubbed your back as you sobbed, not caring who heard you. Your tears did not stop. 
They didn’t stop on the plane to Bahrain. They refused to dry up during the practices as you set record times. They let up as you gave post-practice interviews, saving you from being embarrassed. 
You cried as you put your helmet on. Stickers had been placed on it the night before with Lorenzo’s name and dates of birth and death to commemorate his legacy that would continue through you. 
You knew this race was important. You heard that multiple F1 drivers were there to watch. And you’d give them a spectacle, before hiding away to burry your dead godfather. You hoped that the blond kid with blue eyes that had grown up by now was there. He didn’t need to know that you looked up to him. You just hoped that he’d be there. And possibly the green eyed Justin Bieber look-a-like as well, you had followed him too. 
You had managed to score a P5 starting on the grid and you knew it would be tough to fight for the front. But you had a feeling that you’d be just fine. 
And just fine you were. 
You all hauled your F2 car over that finish line, finishing with a gap of 10 seconds. Your crew was screaming in your ear through the radio and congratulations were being thrown everywhere. You pulled into the number 1 spot and climbed onto the nose. You put your finger on the big numbers on the nose of your car, kissed the finger that touched it, and raised it, pointing at the sky. You had changed your driver number to the permanent 89 this season, and for the rest of your career. 
One time, Lorenzo had showed you pictures of when he used to kart. The big 89 was visible through the old photographs. He had trophies upon trophies, but was never picked up by anyone. You told him that if he had raced these days, he’d be able to skip everything and would be put into an F1 car immediately. He had just laughed and told you to do it for him. 
So that’s what you were doing. After you commemoration, you scrambled down the car and jumped into the crews waiting arms. These days, you did not flinch when they hit your helmet. You knew that these were celebrations for racers and you were thankful to partake. Two boys followed you up and went before you. You didn’t remember their names, only the Australian accent and the odd American accent. But they would remember your name. 
You carried your flag high as you walked onto the stage. The anthem sounded much sweeter this time around. The trophy felt a little heavier this time though. You looked up to see those blue eyes that you saw many years ago. Max said a quick congratulations before you raised it as though to almost offer it to the open sky. This time, you let the tears go. You quicky wiped them away and picked up the giant bottle of champagne. You hauled it over your shoulder and sprayed the others, absolutely drenching them. 
This time, they did it to you as well.  
You knew you made it. 
I’ll do it for you, LoLo. 
December 2024 – Twenty-one years old 
Christian Horner sat in the folding chair, as he did year after year. A camera was right in front of him, with an interviewer to the side. 
“Please state your name for the camera.” He rolled his eyes. 
“My name is Christian Horner, and I am the Team Principal of the Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula 1 Team.” 
“Let’s talk about your driver, Y/n L/n.” 
The screen cuts to the pace of your car, passing multiple others in one clean sweep. 
“She’s one of the best talents I’ve seen in a while.” 
A scene of you holding a trophy, high in the sky. 
“What is one thing that you admire about your driver. She has said a lot about you.” Christian smiled. Of course you had. You told him that you saw him as the dad you never had. 
“Almost everything she touches, she turns it to gold.” 
The scene changes to your first win. The crowds of red cheered your name. Something you didn’t think was possible. You had taken that win from their favorites and you were being praised for it. Slow-motion splashes of champagne hit you from either side as you wiped your face. 
The scene returns, but Max is in Christian’s spot. 
“She’s different. She’s the epitome of what a rookie should be. I’m just thankful that she’s my teammate and not working against me.” 
The screen fades to two Red Bull cars with an Aston Martin in between them. 
“Y/n, Max is currently behind the Aston. Gap to you is 1.237 seconds,” Mitch’s voice is heard off screen through the radio. 
“Tell Maxie that it’s time to do the old switcharoo!” 
Your car suddenly slowed down just enough on the turn, and the crowd cheered as Max’s car went wide, putting him before you. You quickly got in his slip stream and the two of you sped off, leaving the green car in the dust. 
Another driver, with green eyes, is now in the seat, answering the same question. 
Charles looked up in thought while blowing some air out his lips. “She’s fearless. You normally don’t see that anywhere. Sure, everyone gets scared if they have an impact, especially as big as the one she had, but not her.” 
The camera cuts to the violent scene of your first DNF. Your car flipped, you were trapped. People’s faces were adorned with tears including Christian, no one had been able to contact you. Yet, the focus is now on you, wiggling out from beneath the wreckage. You, in spite of it all, raised your fist as though you were celebrating a first win. 
The scene cuts to an Australian with a straight smile. He looks semi-uncomfortable in the seat.  
“It looked like you and L/n had a tussle in the beginning. Is that true?” 
Oscar shook his head. “There was never a tussle. We both made mistakes, but that’s racing. Wheels touch all the time: it doesn’t mean that we have the urge to take each other out.” 
The interviewer continued, “But she did take you out.” 
The screen fades to a clip of two cars dangerously close together, one orange and one navy. 
David Croft’s voice could be heard, “And there goes the Red Bull of Y/n L/n and the McLaren of Oscar Piastri! They are close together around that corner and they aren’t backing down. Are they going to make contact! And they do! Off the track they go, debris is everywhere. And I don’t think they are going to be able to continue.” 
You knew that you should not have “never backed down never what-ed.” But Oscar was going for it and so were you. And you felt terrible. You quickly used the halo to climb out. Looking over, Oscar was doing the same thing. 
The camera followed you as you made your way through the swarming stewards. You just knew that you needed to check on the Aussie. 
The crowds could hear David speak again, “Oh no. Looks like L/n is mad. Does Red Bull have a thing for drivers with anger issues?” 
Oscar looked up and saw you storming towards him, batting away the stewards hands. He stiffened, ready for anything. But what he didn’t expect was a giant hug. He could feel you shaking and he quickly put his hands around you. 
“I’m ok.”  
The screen flashes back to Oscar. 
He huffed, “She did. But the moment she got out of the car, she came to check on me. She batted away the stewards who were desperate to make sure that she was fine, since she took the brunt of the hit. If that doesn’t convince you that Y/n is a great friend and better driver, then I don’t know what will.” The Aussie looked livid. 
The scene cuts to now a new face, your manager. 
The interviewer asks, “What is something that people might not know about Y/n.” Vito put his hand to his chin. You had already given him the permission to talk about what might be discussed. 
He inhaled, “She’s strong. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well.” 
“Can you give us an example?” 
“The kid was disowned in 2019, right before her F3 debut. And you know what she did? She put that F3 car in the P1 spot. She never showed it though. She held her head high, and was squeezing into her place, that was waiting for her, in this sport.” 
A quick flash of 16 year old you, holding your first F3 trophy, was shown on screen. 
Vito kept talking as the scene changed to you walking around your motor home, greeting everyone who was there. They knew what had happened, and comforted you with words and hugs. You were thankful for them. 
“She also lost her godfather Lorenzo in January 2020. It was heartbreaking to hear her over the phone. Her debut in F2 was the next day. I told her that she didn’t have to, but she insisted that she needed to race, to win.” 
The camera followed 17 year old you, helmet on and visor down, as you walked to your F2 car, shining with your new number. 
“In less than 24 hours, she was back in the car.” 
Your car sped down the straight, over the finish line. 
“And she won.” 
The scene shifted to 23 year old Max Verstappen handing you the big F2 trophy. Tears could be seen in your eyes as you took the cup and thanked him. 
“Did you know?” 
Max looked at her in bewilderment. “I didn’t. And you would have never guessed it. Y/n has her heart on her sleeve, everywhere she goes, except when she races.” 
A quick cut now shows Christian back in the seat. 
“The last driver I saw with that mental strength was Charles Leclerc. He previously lost his godfather, and then lost his father. A few days later he won his race. Y/n lost the only family she had in less than a year.” Christian laughed. “These rookies are built different. You’d think they were made for the earlier days of racing, with how much they put into it. But Y/n, I don’t know. Her aura commands attention.” 
The scenes now shown are from multiple races. 
The camera followed you as you walked through the crowded paddock, trying to get back to hospitality. You thought that it would be different, that you’d have to squeeze through to get by. But with each step you took, the people parted like water. 
You flashed a smile at many fans who seemed awestruck to be in your presence. 
A new driver is now in the seat. 
“She’s almost like Charles, in a sense,” Lando said. “The two of them,” he looked around, “I don’t know. It’s hard to describe.” 
“Can you try?” Lando shot her a cheeky grin. “They are basically the F1 royalty. Any driver has a ‘celebrity image’ and people are excited to see us outside. They ask to take pictures, but they also do things against us.” 
The scene cuts to multiple instances of booing and pushing drivers. 
“And yet, Charles and Y/n bend them to their will almost. They listen to them. The King and Queen of Formula 1.” 
A video of you, Lando, Max, and Charles speaking before the Monaco Grand Prix plays. 
“Ah, Max. Did I tell you that we have to address them as your highness now?” 
Max looked up from his phone and followed Lando’s finger that was pointed at Charles and you, deep in conversation.
“No? Why?” Lando walked over and showed him the edit and comments on his phone. 
The caption read “Y/n L/n and Charles Leclerc are F1 royalty and we need to address them as such.” The video that played started with a clip of Charles in Monaco, with the grid and Monegasque royalty behind him. He looked so majestic. It switched over to you in your home country, with a crowd around your pedestal. You hadn’t even won yet, and they looked at you as though you hung the moon. You stretched out your arms and the crowd roared.
Max looked back at the two, who were ignorantly blissed. Max looked up at Lando. 
“You’re right.” 
The camera is back to Charles. 
His eyes were wide with eyebrows raised, “Lando really said that.” He smirked. Shuffling up to good posture he said, “I’m fine with that. Y/n has always been different, but in a good way. She knows what the people wants, but also doesn’t get caught up in all the PR. She’s herself.” 
A clip of you with fans plays. Your smile was mirrored with theirs. Everyone wanted to see you, hug you, feel you. And the waves that were emanating from you only made the crowd happier. 
Now, the seat is occupied by none other than Sir Lewis Hamilton. 
“What do I think about Y/n?” he questions back to himself. “I know that she is one of the best rookies to ever come across in the world of Formula 1. I’ve had the opportunity to share podiums with so many drivers, but her? There’s something different.”
The scene flashes to a podium shared with you, Lewis, and Max. Lewis had been able to take the win, leaving you on the third step. You had almost had the win, but a late safety car ruined it. Lewis looked over at you, expecting a disappointed face. But all he saw was a smile that rivaled the sun. 
“She never seems to be disappointed with anything. Even if she was to qualify in last place, she would still smile.” Lewis laughed. “And I think everyone loves her more than they realize.” 
A small clip of you and a bulldog flashes across the screen. Roscoe was licking all over your face. 
“Roscoe, stop!” But you were laughing, and the dog thought that he should continue. Lewis found the two of you in the middle of the floor in the Mercedes hospitality. A blanket was draped around your shoulders.  
“And what are you doing here kid?” Lewis put his hands on his sides. 
You shrugged. “Toto told me I could hang out here. Max is having one of those ‘adult meetings’ that Christian says my ears shouldn’t hear. I think they forget that I’m 21 now.” 
Lewis just laughed, thinking of how Toto must have let you in and had given you a blanket as well. He just ruffled your hair and sat on the ground with you.  
The scene changes one more time. You are now in the seat. 
The interviewer asks, “Please state your name and your occupation.” 
You smiled, “My name is Y/n L/n and I am a Formula 1 racer who drives for the Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula 1 Team. I also DJ,” you shot finger guns at the camera and clicked you mouth, “Thanks Lando.” 
“How was your first season in Formula 1. You obviously showed the world of what you could do.” 
You nodded before continuing, “The season went better than I expected. To place third in the driver’s championship as a rookie? Unheard of.” You smirked. “Until now.” 
The person behind the camera continued, “You were only 10 points away from Charles Leclerc. How does that make you feel?” 
You cocked your head. “It feels wonderful. Charles had a really good season.” You leaned in as though to tell a secret. “If anything, don’t tell Charles or Max I said this, but Max and I would rather lose to Charles than anyone else.” 
“And why is that?” 
You deadpanned. “Well Charles is Lightning McQueen incarnate and Max’s emotional support rival. Who else would we want?” People laughed in the background. 
“Now that you know you could win a championship…” 
You cut her off, “Oh I’ve always known I could win a championship. But I also know that I was born to break records. And right now, I’m on a path to help Max break the 7 streak.” 
“Ah yes, sorry. What would you do after winning a championship.” You hadn’t seen Max slip in. 
“I think I’d pull a Nico Rosenburg. Ya know? Retire while I’m ahead.” 
“You would not do that!” Max said behind the camera and you looked straight at him. 
“Yes I would.” 
“No you wouldn’t. Because you said you were born to break records. Well Kid, if I make a record championship, you need to be the one to break it.” 
Oh my gosh, I loved how this chapter turned out. And it is officially the longest chapter I have written so far – 6,077 words. Right now, I have to write the chapter for the last race of F2 and you readers have to pretend that it lands on a weekend that the F1 drivers can attend. 
Also! I am pleased to announce that the first few chapters of a new series will be out shortly! It is called “Besties for the Resties” and it’s how you got close with many of the drivers. Not all of them will have their own chapter and not all the drivers are being written about. So please be aware that this will not be going over 10 chapters! 
Thank you to all my readers and Happy Thanksgiving!  
Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne @leilanixx @angsthology @digitalizeduniqueness @topguncultleader @landosgirlxoxo @gods-menace @itsjustkhaos @thefandomswhre @alwaysboredsworld @vellicora @bintuabbas @sam-is-lost @empress-kimiko @assholeinatrenchcoat @kagatinkita @glitterquadricorn @zyonsay @tsukishimawhore @treehouse-mouse @ashy-kit @agent-curt-mega @julesbabey @lydialawrence @stopeatread @claudia5912 @nichmeddar @blueberry64857959 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @leptitlu @alessioayla @badassturtle13 @kaaale @wcnorris @cool-ultra-nerd @hockeyboysarehot @agent-curt-mega @myxticmoon @cmleitora @sam-is-lost
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luveline · 2 months
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hiii jadey <3 i’ve been having a bit of a rough time in college lately and i was wondering if you’d be willing to write some bombshell!reader where spencer talks about being bullied in high school and maybe bombshell can relate? even if not, just a lot of comfort please? i hope you’re doing well!! <333
ty for ur request!!! fem
It’s a blessing and a curse whenever you come around. Spencer’s thinking he hadn’t seen you in a while when your text lights up his screen, a summoning if there ever was one. 
Hi Spencer, I need some help with my laptop. It turns out for about ten seconds and then turns off again. Do you think you can fix it?
He has no idea. Probably. Do you want me to come by SCU? 
No need
“Spencer!” you say, practically glowing as you drop your messenger bag on his already crowded desk. “Sorry, that’s so heavy.”
“You’re here,” he says, surprised. 
You lean down to hug him in his chair. Spencer can’t ignore that he likes every part of you, your arms as they wrap around his shoulders, the perfume on your neck as you touch your cheek to his, even the soft exhale of your breath by his ear. “Hi, Dr. Reid,” you say gently. “Missed you. So happy my laptop isn’t working ‘cos now I get to see you.” 
You pull away with a grin. Your lips are a shade of pink that Spencer won’t soon forget.
“That was fast.” 
“So fast,” you say. “You know I love an excuse to see you and to not be at work.” 
You work very hard, but you’re like anyone. Stealing time is fun and free. “You’re not gonna get in trouble, right?” 
“With who? Hotch doesn’t care if I’m here and Sandy,” —you full body shiver at the mention of your boss— “won’t notice I’m gone for another hour. Besides, I can’t have a broken laptop. They’re pretty cool, right?”
“Laptops?” 
“Yeah, I like them. I just need the WiFi to work everywhere.” You squint at him. “Is that something you can do?” 
Spencer cannot make the WiFi work everywhere you go, but he can soft reset your laptop after a short investigation of the problem. It takes about five minutes, in which you steal Morgan’s chair and get comfortable next to him, legs crossed, hand resting open on your thigh. “You’re so smart. I bet you were very popular in high school.” 
He laughs, startled, a horrible sinking feeling moving through his chest. “What? Why would you think that?”
“‘Cos you’re a genius at everything, right? I bet you were always helping people with their homework.” 
His lips last. He doesn’t know what to say. “I don’t think I talked to anyone in high school who didn’t want to hang me at the top of a flag pole,” he says honestly. 
Your lovely smile falls flat. “What?” 
“I skipped a couple of grades, so I was younger than everybody, and I wasn’t well liked. I was actually bullied pretty badly.” He laughs again with that same brittle panic. He’s talking without thinking, it just spilled out, it’s spilling still, “I used to get beat up for breathing wrong.” 
You’re quiet. Spencer panics worse because why has he told you that? You’re so sweet to him but that doesn’t mean you wanted to know about his worst moments, he can practically feel the affection you had for him melting away as you realise he’s a loser, he’s pathetic–
“I was bullied too,” you say, giving him a tentative smile. “All the way through high school and a little bit after that, too. Maybe that’s why we get along so well, huh?” 
He looks at his hands. “You were?” 
“Yep.” He can hear the strain of wanting to sound normal. “I mean, I didn’t get beat up, Spencer, that’s awful and I’m– I’m so sorry.”
You’re the last person he’d ever want an apology from, because you’re one of the only people he’s ever met who likes him as he is. You could never make him hurt the way he did back then. High school was years ago and it lingers like it happened yesterday. “I can still remember the stuff they used to say to me,” he says. 
“I got made fun of for so much stuff,” you agree. “Boys I didn’t even know would berate me in the halls for just being there. I got called ugly so much I genuinely believed I was for years.” 
“You’re not ugly,” he says immediately. 
“I know.” 
He nods thoughtfully. “It’s hard trying to forget about it. I think if people knew how much I carry with me from then they’d tell me to let it go, but I can’t.” 
“You don’t have to let it go, Spence, so long as you know it’s not your fault it happened.” 
You offer your hand. Spencer stares at it. You wiggle your fingers and he thinks, Oh, grasping it quickly, before you change your mind. Your fingers slide between his and you rub the back of his hand with your thumb, smiling approvingly, eyes crinkled with pleasure. 
“They don’t know what they missed,” you say, a hint of shyness in your voice that’s swiftly covered by your usual confident drawling, “they had unfiltered and unadulterated access to the Spencer Reid, n’ I have to pretend my laptops broken just to see you. So crazy.” 
You give his hand a good squeeze.
“It was sort of broken,” he says as you take your hand back. He’s sure his brain is broken too. 
“Nah, it always does that. I just give it a love tap and it fixes it again.” 
“A what?” He laughs so loudly it turns heads. His crush on you turns to full blown infatuation.
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seelestia · 14 days
Text
in lieu of the boop fest: genshin men as boopers.
⎯ something made on a whim to commemorate the lovely booping chaos going on. may not be accurate but i tried!!! 🙏 which one are you?? tag yourself /j this is the silliest thing ever, forgive me. fluff & crack (and made with love).
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the harbinger of dedication (???): boop them once and oh, it's on. boops you back and will not stop booping you back — it's an all-out war! or at least, to them. they take this whole matter as an opportunity and certainly don't mind tiring their fingers out just tapping the button on repeat. does it for the fun and to get a reaction out of you. also, probably eats (sends) super boops for breakfast, lunch and dinner. it's their bread and butter.
childe (of course), arataki itto, cyno (has a desire to max out his boop-o-meter till the end - a completionist's habit).
the menace (as simple as that): they have no need to be booped because they're the one booping you first and a lot at that too. oh, you got 99+ notifs? yeah, that's an act of love and it's from them. they hoped you liked the gift because they had fun giving it. grab a handkerchief because you're gonna have to scrub that smirk off their face, literally.
wriothesley, kaeya, shikanoin heizou, lyney (he apologizes by treating you to a meal afterwards).
confusion (awkward ver.): ...what. what is this? what does 'boop' even mean? why does it sound so oddly menacing when uttered out loud? and why are you smiling at like that? it's a trend, you explain and they — reluctantly and nervously — send a boop back. they have no idea what they're doing but at least, seeing that proud look on your face amounts to something. maybe, they did well? they then proceed to send you another one just for good measure. how cute.
xiao, gorou.
confusion (boomer ver.): their first thought was that they're getting hacked by a... feline virus? how interesting (please explain). with some explanation from you, they'll eventually understand the concept! a passive booper at best, but has a proclivity to treat boops as a “i'm thinking about you” button. so just know one boop equals to one time you crossed their mind.
zhongli, neuvillette, dainsleif (still confused at the end of it), diluc (secretly because he has pride).
the 'humble' reciprocator (dark horse?): all is in perfect tandem. you give one boop, they give one back. you give two boops, they give two back. you squint your eyes at them from across the room suspiciously, they chuckle into their hand in response. is that an act of mischief or demureness? you wonder what will happen if you boop them one hundred times? well, let's find out. (they will give back the exact amount, no matter what.)
kaedehara kazuha, baizhu, kamisato ayato (a true hybrid between being humble and a menace, he is. starts off nice until he spams boops when you least expect it... with a smile, of course!).
the bystander with the popcorn: thanks for the boop, you get one back. yes, only one, sorry. they'd rather not participate in the chaos and prefer to keep their inbox clean. no offense meant, you're free to have your fun so go ahead. they're just here to observe because in their humblest opinion, it serves them well enough as participating does. oh, don't look at them like that. you did get one back, didn't you? rejoice in the fact that you're one of the few — if not, the only one — they gave a boop to. treat it as an approval badge. it means you're special (to them).
alhaitham, tighnari, albedo, wanderer (he thinks he's above this childish and pointless act of booping... or is he?).
the victim™: is getting booped left and right without rest. suffocating and drowning in them even. lady luck is not on their side; they swore they booped everyone back to infinity and beyond — surely, it's all repaid and they can take a break now, right? wrong. they rest for 5 minutes and come back to 99+ notifs every single time. (if you relate, you might be a victim of affectionate bullying. feel free to riot about it.)
kaveh, thoma.
the loser at the start line: sneezes whenever the paw comes up on screen, yikes. A+ for effort, though!
venti.
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— thanks for reading!
© seelestia on tumblr, apr 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.
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cranberryjuice-posts · 2 months
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Hi!!!!!
I need some more protective Clarisse kind of angst in my life. Maybe something when it’s not an established relationship, but it’s obvious Clarisse wants R. But since Clarisse isn’t doing anything about it R just goes on oblivious. Until one of Clarisses brothers starts hitting on R doing the bonfire. Clarisse comes up angrily and stills R away but then reader is mad. Anger confession core pls. Feel free to make it your own. I love your writing!
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- my flower -
Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Reader
An - im struggling so fucking much writing fics rn 😭😭 my recent works haven’t really been the best and I’m sorry abt that I’m just having major writers block rn
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Beauty was an important thing at camp. Being beautiful brought all sorts of things, from an extra s’more at the bonfire to having charmed guys around camp to do your bidding.
Charming guys wasn’t just the limit however: which is how clarisse found herself in your cabin watching you model different cut up camp shirts.
“What do You think of this one?” You asked wearing a shirt you had cut into a halter top. Posing yourself in-front of a mirror you hadn’t realized the daughter of ares over looking your curves and chest in the top.
“I think it looks just as fine as all the other shirts you showed me” she rolled her eyes leaning back on your bunk. You shot her a dirty look while mumbling something under your breath.
Taking the shirt off you tossed it in clarisses general direction. “You are the worst person to ask for clothing advice I swear” 
“First of all I know a lot about clothing”
“You wear camo military pants”
After a moment clarisse threw your shirt back at you causing you to laugh. Rummaging around through a pile of cut up shirts you eventually grabbed one that was off the shoulders.
Throwing it on and looking at it critically you just shrugged your shoulders. “This is Fine i guess”
“Thank god” Clarisse complained (much to your dismay) standing up, placing a hand around your waist she gestured her hand to the door. “Now can we please go to dinner”
You shook your head following her out. Breaking free from clarisse once you arrived to the dining hall, she kept her eyes on you.
Everyone knew she liked you, everyone also knew she wouldn’t do shit to ask you out but would beat down anyone else who tried to.
——
“Clarisse” silena tilted her head while rolling her fingers on the table beside the curly haired girl. Receiving a harsh stare the daughter of Aphrodite just smiled.
Sitting down beside clarisse , she took a moment to observe how the ares kids behaved. Half the table was arguing while the other half was debating up coming camp events and how to win them, though Henry a newer member to the cabin was over at your table. Sitting beside you and well to put it bluntly, flirting with you.
Silena looked back at clarisse. Having to resist laughing as she gave a hateful glare to her brother. “Who the hell does he think he is” she muttered under her breath. “I mean honestly how does he think he even stands a chance with her” sitting up straighter clarisse scoffed.
“Maybe he’s just trying to find a relationship here at camp” silena softly teased.
“He should already know that she’s off limits though”
“Is she though? You’re not dating her”
Silena had a point. You weren’t dating but still she didn’t want anyone else to be with you. As much as clarisse wanted to love you she couldn’t, take a look at her. She was known as the camp bully, arrogant and with the amount of pressure she received from her father clarisse knew she couldn’t contain her anger well and would ultimately lash out on.. clarisse didn’t want to think about that.
“I don’t need your smart ass mouth silena” pushing her plate forwards clarisse quickly mad her way out of the table.
——
It made her sick how causally you flirted with Henry. Crossing her arms she didn’t even bother paying attention to the bonfire, rather clarisse was more focused on you.
Your laugh, your hair, you. All things she knew Henry didn’t or couldn’t appreciate like her.
Once she saw him leading you away towards the woods most likely to make out. That was her final straw.
Making her way over to where you were clarisse grabbed Henry by his shoulder and shoved him back. “For fucks sake clarisse— what’s wrong with you”
“I could ask you the same question who do you think you are flirting with my girl”
“Your Girl? Pfft as if clarisse you wish she was yours”
Quickly stepping between the siblings you tried to deescalate the situation. Placing a hand on clarisses chest with the other on Henry’s arm you were starting to tell that the woman before you wasn’t going to back down anytime soon.
The two continued their argument, throwing petty insults at eachother. You let out an aggravated sigh before grabbing clarisses Hand dragging her away.
Quickly finding the ares cabin, you threw the door open before forcing clarisse in. Taking a moment to collect yourself you let out a deep breath.
Finally facing clarisse you held your hand up before she could speak. “What.. the fuck is wrong with you”
“Henry was being a creep”
“Not every guy I go off with is a perv!”
“Yeah but if their from my cabin they sure as hell are!”
The argument continued to grow louder and louder. Clarisse was determined to prove she was right and you the same.
“Why do You Care if I want to make out with someone? Every time I show Interest in someone you are always on my ass”
“Because nobody actually deserves someone like you!” She moved some your way. She tried to make her stance show that she was innocent, that she was right, and it pissed you off even more
“What is that even supposed to mean” scoffing you shook your head looking away. “And why in what situation did you think it was ok to call me your girl?! We’re not dating clarisse”
“But we could be!” She shouted back. The room went quiet.
You furrowed your eyebrows confused, now realizing how close both you and clarisse were it flustered you. “Clarisse do you like me” you mumbled.
She just nodded, huffing you wrapped your arms around her. Hugging her tight you spoke into her neck. “You’re the stupidest person at the camp I swear”
Pulling back and placing a hand over her mouth to keep her from responding; you tilted your head up softly kissing your hand. “I’m going back to my cabin. And tomorrow morning I expect you to be at the door ready to ask me out got it”
She nodded her head once again. “Good” you pulled your hand back but not before patting her cheek. Leaving the ares cabin clarisse walked to her bunk in shock, with how fast everything had moved it didn’t click in her mind that she now had a girlfriend.
———
Clarisse - so do You want to go out with me
YN - no
Clarisse - oh.. I Just thoug—
Yn - yes Dummy I want to go out with you 😭😭
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privitivium · 25 days
Note
i couldn't find any information if requests were open or not so I'm so sorry in advance if they're not-
could i just request more mean sadistic reader? any cute or pathetic yandere who just absolutely adores you and in return they get bullied and teased.
dont fret, if the button wasnt there then they would be closed. :3
submissive, "pathetic" yandere x mean, sadistic male reader.
both amab, tw;; ur a jerk, but he adores you. so. masturbation, degredation, somnophilia
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it was his own fault,,, being so whiny and annoying. it didnt help that he liked it either. being so mean to him... your little darling boyfriend - after finding out that he would go to such lengths for you, it would be wise to give him what he wants. you. it was awkward at first, knowing this guy has harmed people just because he was jealous they were spending time with you - but now.. youve gotten into the rhythm of giving it back to him. in a less... murderous way. bullying him. this little guy...! seemingly so helpless but so strong that he rivals you??!! it was cute. you couldn't deny that,,, yet you call him disgusting, never letting him know that you find him to be cute.
ㅡpushing him aside to get to the fridge, roughly... "fucking brat, get out of my way." this was toxic. you'd never treat someone, your lover like this forreal, right? of course not - but this guy, knowing his past, he's free game.
your boyfriend yelps softly, trembling before fixing himself up; "aauh,, sorry..." then giggling behind his dainty hand, all flustered. dont laugh at me you little twerp... ㅡ "yeah, yeah... whatever." waving him off, grunting in annoyance as you feel your face grow warm... fucking cutie. so irritating. following you around the house, still so enraptured with you that youre really here - dating him... but youre a little meaner than he remembers.
ㅡyou liked touching him, too. he loved that you did - he was a little creep. nearly like a ... dog if it was a human... so eager to please their master - whining that he'll be good for no apparent reason, fucking brat. nuzzling into your bicep and cuddling your arm, cooing to himself and getting all hard because it's you who he's touching.
"get the fuck off me!" smacking him lightly on the thigh, pushing him away. annoyed and erect as you felt his boner brush against your hand.
his eyes grow watery - and he nearly smiles before shyly hiding his face and nuzzling into you again, "mm-mmh.. m' sorryy..." he whimpers. such an annoying sound !! bad dog, you wanted to throw him on the bed and restrain him from bothering you. but you know he'd just break free and jerk off in the meantime..
ㅡmmm... catching him as he was trying to fondle you while you slept.
he yelps in surprise - eyes widening and face burning with embarrassment; rigid as your hand snatched his wrist and yanking him away from touching your soft cockㅡ"touching me while i'm sleeping? youre fucking sick." you snapped at him - nearly baring your teeth; gripping his wrist in your hand and yanking him over into your chest. "you're so tiny, how could someone as small as you be so damn deranged?" you continue to grumble, arms wrapping around his waist and burying your face in the crook of his neck,,, he trembles, breathing in shakily. offering no response - too dumbstruck, in awe... he couldn't help himself. popping a boner like a disgusting little virgin even though he wasn't... nerd.
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staycait · 2 months
Text
⊹   ﹒   ❝  a losers secret ⠀⊹⠀˚⠀ ౨ৎ
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𝜗𝜚 ┈ loser!scara x shy!fem!reader ㅤ ✦
𝐈. ──ㅤ youre the good and shy girl of the school, everyone knows you and everyone likes you, you consider everyone a friend, even the loser that sits in the back of the class. but what happens if you, the most well-liked good girl, gets paired up with the most hated loser in school ?
𝐈𝐈. ──ㅤ mentions of fingering , overstimulation , cream pie , raw sex , mentions of markings , little bits of degradation 'n praise, reader is very shy and gets nervous easily , reader is inexperienced , reader is innocent , breeding kink , && corruption kink .
𝐈𝐈𝐈. ──ㅤ nsfw , smut , english is not my first language, please forgive me , proofread , fluffy yet suggestive ending .
﹒ thoughts ; hope u guys enjoy this ,, its been months since i was active here and im trying to get back here because ive been starving yall </3 . btw , reqs are open ! feel free to req anything . :) what do we think of new theme tho? it keeps changing 😭 .. and ngl this fic kinda sucks. ☹️☹️ but yeah i hope u guys still like this even if it’s horrible!
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> story right under the cut <
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SCARAMOUCHE is the typical loner you’d see in your class, black jacket with the hoodie over his head, headphones on, is at the back of the class, and much more. there were rumors that he murdered someone, that he does drugs, and the list goes on. no one likes him—in fact, everyone hates him.. almost everyone hates him.
for your english project, you got paired up with scaramouche. after the teacher announced who would be paired with who, everyone in your class came up to you, telling you how much sympathy they have for you, that how sorry they are for you, and telling you ‘good luck with dealing with him’.
you were confused, what was so bad about scaramouche? sure there were rumors, but if they don’t evidence that they did those stuff, you have no reason to believe in the rumors. you felt so bad for him, he already had no one by his side, and the entire school hates him.
you went up to scaramouche, he immediately notices your presence and looks up at you with an indifferent expression on his face, yet he looked awfully tired.. he took off his headphones and he stared to speak,
“what? here to bully me for having no friends?” you hear him scoff, a frown plays on his lips as he brings his gaze to the floor.
hearing his words made you protest, you would never bully anyone, or even hurt a fly !
“n-no! of course not..” you stammered.
you fiddle with your fingers in nervousness. you always get nervous whenever you talk to new people or when people assume things about you, a slight blush creeps up your cheeks as you think about his words.
the indifference immediately leaves scaramouche’s face once he notices your blushing. he stares at you for a moment before a huge smirk appears on his face.
“ah, so you’re not like all the others?” scaramouche tilts his head back and chuckles.
“huh..?”
you take a seat next to scaramouche’s chair and you bring it closer to him.
“what do you mean by that..?”
“everyone else treats me like i’m sort of monster or freak. you, however, seem different from everyone.”scaramouche leans back in his chair.
“well, you don’t seem like a freak or a monster..”
you were growing increasingly nervous, and as an attempt to calm yourself down, you look down to your lap to hide your nervous and red face and grip the hem of your skirt. you never thought someone would assume you’d bully them— let alone think that you think of them as a freak or a monster!
you can’t help but notice that scaramouche’s eyes trail down to your legs. it’s quite unnerving, and your short skirt doesn’t help much with that either.
as a way to snap out of his thoughts, scaramouche shakes his head and sighs.
“are you just saying that to be nice? what about me isn’t freaky?”
“u-uhm… you seem like a normal person. you look.. um.. cool too..?”
scaramouche looks back at you and raises his eyebrows.
“oh yeah? you think I’m cool?”
you notice him shifting slightly, leaning toward you.
“then, you surely don’t mind me getting closer, right?”
your blush gets heavier the moment you feel scaramouche leaning in closer to you.
“no… not at all.”
scaramouche grins at your response and scoots even closer to you.
“then is it okay if…” he trails off, and his voice gets husky as he leans in. you feel something touch your leg, you look over to see his hand resting on your thigh.
“i suppose so..”
scaramouche’s eyes light up after hearing you agree. you could feel him plant his lips on your neck; a few gentle kisses on your skin.
“how about if i…” scaramouche places a finger along the hem of your short skirt.
a small whimper escapes your lips, you don’t know how to feel about being this close this to someone, you had never been this close or intimate with anyone.
“is it alright for me to… lift your skirt up?”
your eyes widened, you weren’t sure how you’d respond to that, but, if you were going to be honest, scaramouche was making you feel hot down there..
his words made you feel tingly and horny, but his gaze was what was making your panties damp and wet.
“can we.. go to a private room first?”
…who knew it was so easy for you to fall right into scaramouche’s trap?
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after successfully making the teacher believe that scaramouche he was taking you to the clinic, he brought you to his dorm, and next, to his bedroom.
SCARAMOUCHE had you on a tight mating press, your clothes on the floor with bits of your orgasm stained onto it. (it got to your clothes because scaramouche had fingered you until you squirted all over the place.)
how could scaramouche have resisted himself? you looked so innocent, and so corruptible, he just had to get his hands on you.
scaramouche groans as he feels your walls clamping down on him for the ‘nth time. it was a sign you were about to have another orgasm, another sign was when your moans get higher-pitched.
the feeling of scaramouche’s cock mercilessly ramming into you was agonizingly pleasurable. you couldn’t think of anything else but him and his cock, your body couldn’t help but just have orgasm after orgasm.
you held tightly onto his shoulders, clinging onto him as if your life had depended on it. scaramouche’s dick was bruising your cervix, fucking you into the mattress, and possibly trying to fuck your brains out.
“does it feel nice being reduced to nothing but a whore?”
scaramouche grabs a handful of your hair, staring at your messy and slutty state. the way you looked so disheveled, the way you were gasping for breath, the way you gave up trying to keep up with scaramouche’s quick and brutal pace.
you looked so helpless and vulnerable under him, his cock ramming into you and you have no choice but to take it like the good girl you are.
“answer me, you whore.”
scaramouche speaks to you with a stern voice, in which you immediately nod your head.
he smirks, letting go of your hair. he speeds up his thrusting, bringing one of his hands down from your waist to your clit, rubbing slow circles on it. you felt the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter until,
finally, with just one more snap of scaramouche’s hips, you both reach your intense climax and cum together.
scaramouche continues to sloppily thrust into you, however, it’s much much slower, he continues to thrust until he comes into a full stop.
“oh fuck, you felt so good..”
you both lay there panting, with scaramouche still on top of you. he stares at all the hickeys and bite marks he left on your neck (he also left a lot on your thighs.), feeling proud he had his markings left on you.
“scara..?”
scaramouche snaps out of the daze he was in while he was staring at the markings he left on you—he immediately looks up at you and responds back.
“what is it?”
“can we do things like this… more often?..”
scaramouche chuckles, finding your shyness even after all the rough sex you two just had adorable.
“hmm.. sure.”
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lovesickonmybed · 2 months
Text
to hands between legs | 18+
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masterlist | xo masterlist | info about palestine | donate to gaza
pairing | bully!ellie williams x loser!virgin!reader
synopsis | ellie williams made your high school experience a living hell, but once you got to college you thought you were finally free…until running into her at a frat party where she humiliates you just like it’s high school all over again.
warnings | 18+ MDNI! bullying, wedgies, dub-con, underage drinking, panty kink, degradation, humiliation, fingering, virgin reader, mommy kink.
word count | 4.4k
a/n | if wedgie kinks make you uncomfortable or seem cringe to you then please keep scrolling and let me indulge in my weird little kinks thank you! also i dropped out of college so if any of this is inaccurate i'm sorry!! i urge you to not buy any of the last of us games, including the remaster as the creator, neil druckmann is a zionist. the second game is based off of the israeli occupation in palestine and you can learn more about that here.
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“Dude you are not wearing those to the party tonight!” Your roommate Seline scoffs looking you up and down as you stand in your underwear looking through your clothes in an attempt to find something semi-decent for your first party of the year. You’ve got on a plain white bra and a pair of white hanes panties that sit high up on your waist. 
You turn back to look at her with an annoyed sneer on your face, “They’re called underwear for a reason, they’ll be under my clothes, where no one can see them. I doubt it’ll make a difference, I’m not exactly trying to get laid tonight, especially not by any of those guys.”
“Wearing granny panties at any time besides your time of the month is just…wrong! There’s no way those are comfortable, like seriously I see you pick your wedgie like 20 times a day, just grow up and switch to thongs already.” Your cheeks heat up with embarrassment and you slip on a black skort that stops at your mid thigh before turning back to face your roommate. 
“I do not pick that many wedgies, stop being so dramatic! A thong would just be worse, I don’t want a string up my ass all day…” You retort.
“So instead of a string you want that itchy fabric to bunch up and give you a cottontail? Got it…this is why you haven’t gotten laid yet…” Seline says, side eyeing you.
“I really don’t need this right now, I’m wearing my comfortable and reliable panties and you can have fun telling a frat guy to stop pulling on your thong strings when he’s had too much to drink.”
“My thong is getting taken off by a frat guy tonight, not pulled up, honey. Now hurry up and get dressed so we can go, maybe if you pick the right top someone can look past your choice in underwear,” Seline chuckles.
You roll your eyes playfully and decide on a cropped white tank top, you slip on a pair of black heeled boots and a light wash denim jacket to finish off the look. You want to look alright just in case, you haven’t had the best luck romantically and definitely not sexually since arriving at school. You’ve made out with a few girls at parties but due to your own nerves you haven’t done anything past feeling them up and trying to not cum immediately when their hand is on your thigh. You swear you got more action from your high school bully…
“Come on, if you make me even later than we already are then I’m gonna lose it!” Your roommate commands as you grab your bag from off your bed. You’re not exactly the party type and you sure as hell weren’t in high school, then again you never got a chance to go to parties in high school thanks to Ellie fucking Williams for making you a pariah. You still have no clue what you did to the girl for her to target you as viciously as you did, you barely knew her…maybe she wanted to establish dominance when she arrived in Jackson, sure being the new kid can be tough but it doesn’t exactly call for you to make someone miserable everyday of their life. It started with a shoulder check in the hallway and escalated to you having to budget out having to replace panties on an almost weekly basis due to the waistband ripping wedgies Ellie loved to dish out. 
College was a fresh start for you, a way to escape your past as ‘Wedgie Girl’ and to finally make some friends…but thanks to your busy class schedule and your social awkwardness it’s proven harder than you expected. Your roommate Seline was kind enough to introduce you to some of her friends and you’re pleading with whatever forces are out in the universe that some of them will be there tonight to hang with you when your roommate abandons you for some dick from a sweet, but ultimately brainless frat boy. 
“Do you know if anyone we know is gonna be at the party?” You ask Seline, nervously playing with the hem of your skirt as you both walk the path to the nearby frat house. 
“Uh, I think Taylor mentioned she might be there…I’m not sure when though. But hey, if she’s not I’m sure you’ll find someone to spend your night with if I disappear,” She smiles, nudging your arm with her shoulder playfully. 
“More like when you disappear…”
“Hey! I don’t always disappear!” Seline scoffs.
“If there’s dick from a himbo you do,” you retort.
“Can you blame me? They’re always the sweetest in and out of bed, I can’t help that I like a dumb guy who will actually take care of me after we fuck instead of some asshole who’ll just take my panties after!” On multiple occasions freshman year Seline had some of her favorite pairs stolen by business majors, it was truly unfortunate. 
“Dude I swear to god I’m on a mission to get your panties back tonight, you know I love stealing shit from frat guys. I’m gonna steal your panties back,” you joke to Seline.
“I don’t want them back, they’re probably crusted with cum by now!” Seline laughs.
“Oh my god! Why would you put that image in my head, jesus christ!”
“Sorry, sorry!” Seline is out of breath as she apologizes. 
You reach the lawn of the frat house and you and Seline look at one another.
“If you plan to hookup with someone and stay at their place, text me and share your location, deal?” You say to Seline, making sure to establish a plan for tonight.
“Deal. Same goes for you, babe,” she smirks.
“We both know I won’t be hooking up with anyone but the optimism is appreciated, Seline.”
Seline laughs and throws her arm around your waist as you walk into the party, music playing loudly, the house filled with college students with drinks in their hands. 
You comb the crowd to look for anyone you may recognize but you’re unsuccessful, you frown and pull yourself closer to Seline for comfort. You cup her ear, “I don’t see Taylor yet.” 
“Let me text her and see when she’ll be here,” Seline responds as she pulls out her phone and pulls up Taylor’s contact, she shoots her a text and while she waits on a response y’all go into the kitchen to find something to drink. 
You separate from Seline and look around at all your options, you decide to just grab a Whiteclaw, ignoring how douchey it makes you feel to be seen drinking one. You crack it open and take a sip as Seline pours herself a shot. You lean against the counter as people come up to greet Seline, you feel out of place at this party but you try to ignore the feeling and take another sip.
“Hey, is it okay if I go with them?” Seline motions to the two girls standing where she just was, “I don’t want to leave you alone but we’ve been meaning to catch up for awhile y’know?”
You sigh and bite the inside of your cheek, “Yeah…it’s okay. Go catch up,” you give her a fake smile and in response she gives you a real one.
“I appreciate it, I’m sorry. If you need anything just text me, okay?” 
“Got it. Go have fun for me,” you smile.
Seline gives you a quick hug and turns to the other girls, walking off to the backyard together.
You stay where you are in the kitchen, bobbing your head to the music and mostly aimlessly scrolling on your phone when people watching gets boring. You’re broken out of your trance by a familiar laugh, “Holy shit…you actually made it out of Jackson? I’m shocked, truly.” Even if you hadn’t looked up you’d know exactly who was talking to you. Standing in front of you, a beer in hand, is Ellie Williams. 
You gasp softly and take a long swig from your drink, “I-You-”
“I didn’t know you went here, how’d you even get in?” Ellie asks, taking a step towards you. You can smell the woodsy cologne that’s been her signature scent since high school, she’s wearing a dark green flannel over a black tank top and a pair of black jeans. 
“I-I’m smart…I guess…” You manage to say. You regret it instantly, face heating up when you realize how stupid you sound. 
“Mhm, yeah of course…” She steps closer to you, setting her hand next to your hip on your counter, trapping you slightly as she gets in your personal space, “You know,” she chuckles, “Your roommate is a real dick for letting you leave the dorm like this…”
“What? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You ask, instantly regressing back to the insecure high schooler you were just two years ago.
Ellie smirks, wetting her lips with her tongue, “Nothing, I’m just fucking with you, loser. You’re just as easy to mess with as you were in highschool…” 
You look down, avoiding eye contact, and shrink into yourself, “Why…why are you doing this? We’re not in highschool anymore, Ellie. I mean…who even bullies people in college?”
Ellie doesn’t appreciate your attempt to stand up for yourself, “Someone who sees a loser in desperate need of help…you still wear granny panties?” She bites her lip as she watches your face contort into an embarrassed look.
“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about…” You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to self soothe. 
Ellie pauses for a minute, turning around to scope out the house. She grabs your wrist and starts to pull you along with her.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!” You yell, trying to tug your wrist out of her grip, it’s a futile attempt as she’s always been much stronger than you. 
“Shut up,” Ellie commands, continuing to pull you along with her to the upstairs of the house. The partygoers hanging out on the staircase pay you no mind, continuing their conversations without a care in the world. Ellie pulls you down a hallway, opening one of the doors and pushing you inside, causing you to fall to your knees. Ellie locks the door as you scramble to your feet, mostly out of fear of what substances could be on this carpet.
Ellie turns around to face you, “Take your skirt off.”
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “What?”
“Are you stupid? Take your goddamn skirt off,” Ellie sneers.
“What? Why? I-I’m not taking off my skirt for you! And I’m not wearing granny panties!” 
“Then lift up your skirt and prove it. You’ve got a little cottontail poking out of the back of your skirt by the way…nice hanes,” She laughs and pushes you back, causing you to stumble.
“You’re a sadistic bitch!” You exclaim, backing up away from her.
Ellie walks towards you, backing you against a wall, “I think you meant sexy, but that’s alright sweetheart I still understand you.” Ellie grabs you by your shoulders and spins you around, using her arm to pin you against the wall, your face feeling squished against the plaster. She grabs the bottom of your skirt and pulls it up, groaning in disappointment when she realizes you’re wearing a skort. “Fuckin prude,” she mutters before grabbing the waistband of your skort and yanking it down, exposing your white hanes to her.
“Hey! What the fuc-” 
Ellie cuts you off, “Sorry did I tell you to speak?”
“N-No but-”
Ellie cuts you off again by grabbing you by the back of your head and shoving your face even harder against the wall, causing you to whine in pain. “You speak when I tell you to speak, until then shut your goddamn mouth before I gag you.” Ellie slaps your ass and chuckles when you yelp. “Do you still want to stand here and deny that this borderline geriatric pair of panties are granny panties? Huh? I mean, this sure as shit ain’t a thong, but if you’re really so deep in denial I guess I could be generous and turn it into one for you, honey.”
Before you can even think about protesting Ellie grabs your waistband and pulls it up teasingly slow, your eyes go wide as you’re transported back to highschool by the feeling of the cotton fabric sliding against your skin and situating itself between your cheeks. As the fabric begins to sink into your folds you’re transported back to a memory of Ellie giving you a wedgie in the locker room during senior year.
“Shut up and take it, loser! It’s your fault for pissing me off today!” Ellie whisper-yelled as she pulled the front of your panties violently, tears welled up in your eyes as the baby pink fabric was forced into the folds of your cunt.
“Stop! Come on, you really don’t have to do thi-”
Ellie cuts you off with another harsh tug of your panties, your mouth falls open as a sharp pain shoots up your ass. You try to reach back and tug your waistband away from Ellie but she’s quick to pin your wrists against your back, using her body weight to help pin you against the wall. “Don’t you fucking dare! You’re so goddamn defiant, I miss the helpless loser you were in highschool, this was so much easier back then. You knew how to shut up and take it.”
Ellie shoves her leg between your thighs and lets go of your waistband, she uses her now free hand to remove her belt and restrain your wrists with it. “There. Now you have no choice but to take it,” she laughs. You try to squirm out of her grasp but with her thigh pressed against your cunt all it does is make your face heat up and make you hold back a moan of pleasure. Ellie continues to hold you against the wall as she grabs your waistband again, “Ready for me, wedgie girl?” Ellie smirks as she starts to pull your waistband again, pulling harder than before, almost lifting you off the ground with her first pull.
You choke on nothing as she uses your old nickname, feeling you with even more shame as your brain floods with countless memories of your public humiliation at her hands. Your eyes screw shut as you feel the threads snapping against your skin, the painful friction against your most sensitive parts sends pained moans from your lips. 
“P-Please…h-hurts so bad,” you whimper, tears forming in your eyes as you rest your forehead against the wall.
“It’s supposed to, dumbass. I bet you like it though, don’t you? It’s the most attention your little virgin cunt has ever gotten, huh?” Ellie snickers. 
“I-I’m not a virgin!” You reply.
“Bullshit. I doubt you’ve even had an orgasm…poor thing, bet your poor little pussy just leaks from the slightest attention…I could breathe on it and you’d cum. It’s a miracle you haven’t cum yet, I’m pratically fucking you with these,” Ellie pulls harder, getting you onto your toes to emphasize her point. Ellie giggles, “You know what, you’re not a virgin I’ve already fucked you with your panties.”
You mewl with embarrassment which sends Ellie into a fit of laughter, once she calms herself she lets go of your waistband. You sigh in relief as you think she’ll let you go but once you feel her grasp on your leg holes your eyes go wide. You’re not getting off that easy. 
“You know what, let me rip these and I’ll give you a pity orgasm, how does that sound, loser?”
“No, come on! Ellie don’t rip these!” You plead.
“Oh come on, nerd. I’ve already stretched them out, they’re unwearable, just let me have my fun,” Ellie begins to lift you by the leg holes of your panties. You cry out in pain, your legs kicking out of instinct as you feel the fabric of your panties pulled back and through your cunt, the fabric scraping against your cunt in such a way that causes you to begin to cry.
“Can’t believe you’re already crying, you went fucking soft on me, nerd. Guess I gotta do this everyday and build your tolerance back up,” she says in a patronizing tone. 
“No, no, no, please…Ellie…” Your breath is ragged as she continues to split your ass with your panties, showing no mercy as she bounces you, the sound of threads ripping fills the room.
“Oh come on, baby, you can take it. Don’t tap out now, you’re so close,” Ellie coos, snaking one of her hands around to grab the front of your panties and begins pulling from the front too. You scream in pain and she lets go and begins to scold you, “Shut the fuck up! Are you trying to get caught? You want everyone to see you getting fucked with your panties?” 
You sniffle, “N-No…”
“Then shut. the. fuck. up. and take it. Got it, slut?” She questions.
“Got it…”
Ellie resumes and you bite your lip to hold back your pained noises as she bounces you by the front and back of your panties, making you feel like you’re being split in half. You can’t remember the last time you were in this much pain and you hate how soaked it gets you, a wide wet patch is very visible in the gusset of your panties. It doesn’t take many more pulls for the panties to finally rip, you moan loudly in pain and pleasure as you feel the fabric rip against your cunt. Ellie is quick to grab you by your waist, old hand holding the ripped pair of panties as she helps you to the floor. You sit against the wall and catch your breath, looking up at Ellie completely wrecked. Your mascara is smudged beneath your eyes and you have red marks on your hips. 
Ellie squats down to your level, “You okay?” She asks softly, reaching towards you to trace the marks on your hips. Her gentleness confuses you, when she bullied you in high school she would’ve just let you fall to the floor and leave you to deal with the aftermath.
“I-I think so…” You mumble.
She reaches up and cups your cheek, “Can I finger you?” She looks down at your red puffy cunt, licking her lips as she imagines you mewling for her as she stuffs your cunt. 
“I…No one has ever…y’know…touched me like that before…” You explain shamefully.
“I wanna make you cum, loser. Wanna feel your cunt clench around my fingers.”
You look up at Ellie with glassy eyes, whining at the thought, “Why?”
Ellie looks down, her cheeks turning red, “Because I think you’re hot…and I’ve been wanting this for years…”
“You have?” You ask, brows furrowed as you scan her face for any hint of a lie.
“Yeah…I…I like how you sound when I torture your pretty pussy, wanna make it feel good this time, wanna reward you for how you took that wedgie.”
You think it over for a minute before you nod, “I want your fingers inside of me, please.”
“You want it on the bed, baby girl?” She asks, nodding her head towards the bed of whatever poor boys room you two have only just begun to desecrate. 
“Yeah. Can you untie me too please,” you ask softly, lifting your restrained hands behind your back.
“Oh shit, I forgot I even did that. Let me get that off you,” Ellie helps turn you around and removes the belt restraining your hands and slips it back onto her jeans. She takes your wrists in her hands to check for marks, “They should only be a little sore…I’d wear long sleeves till the marks go away unless you feel like coming up with a story about how they got like that.”
You nod and let her help you onto the bed, you wince in pain as you sit on the bed, the soreness in your ass already kicking in.
Ellie tilts her head and leans towards you, looking down at your lips, “Can I kiss you?”
You nod, wetting your lips with your tongue. She leans in and presses her lips to yours, kissing you softer than you could’ve ever imagined from her. There’s a masochistic part of you that had always had a crush on Ellie, you had dreams of her fingering you, eating you out, hell even taking you on dates. But you had never imagined she’d really kiss you, especially not like this. You kiss her back and are quick to deepen the kiss, Ellie smirks against your lips at your eagerness and pulls you into her lap, spreading your legs and cupping your cunt. She uses you gasping at the sudden contact to slip her tongue into your mouth and you moan into her mouth once she starts to massage your clit. Your body feels like it’s on fire and you beg the universe to not let you cum before she can even get her fingers inside of you. 
She pulls away from your lips, a trail of saliva still connecting them as she moves her mouth down to your neck. She presses a kiss below your ear and whispers, “Gonna take off your shirt baby, wanna suck those pretty tits.”
That alone is enough to make you grip her hair tightly and whine. You help her remove your shirt and she’s quick to remove your bra as well, beginning to trail kisses down your neck. “You’re so fucking pretty, got perfect tits…for a loser…” She snickers. 
This time it doesn’t feel malicious, it makes your clit twitch and your breath hitch. 
“You like when I’m mean to you, don’t you? Bet you’d go home after school everyday and play with that pretty pussy of yours and think about what I did to you…Bet it got you wet once I got everyone calling you wedgie girl…” Ellie smirks at you, admiring the embarrassed expression on your face.
“Shut up…” You giggle.
She smiles and starts to leave hickeys on your neck and collarbones, drawing whines and whimpers out of you with ease. She pulls back to admire her work, “I’d suggest you invest in a turtleneck, sweetheart,” she chuckles.
“Shit…what’s my roommate gonna say?” You mutter, brushing your hair out of your face as you try and think of an excuse to give Seline.
“Are you with her or something?” Ellie asks.
You shake your head no, “God no…she just knows I haven’t done anything like this before…never came back to our dorm with a hickey before either.”
“You’re so innocent it’s fucking adorable,” Ellie says, leaning forward and kissing you again. She pulls away and leans down to press kisses to your tits, nibbling slightly here and there, making you whine once she takes one of your nipples into her mouth, tweaking the other with her hand. “Fuck…Ellie…” you whine, tilting your head back as she worships your tits.
She trails a hand down to your cunt, slapping it lightly, making you yelp. She laughs softly and presses her ring and middle finger against your folds, swiping up some of your slick and bringing her fingers up to her mouth to taste you. She takes her fingers into her mouth and sucks your slick off, moaning at the taste, “You taste as good as you look, sweet girl.”
She leans forward to kiss you and slowly slips two fingers inside of you, you gasp against her lips and buck your hips forward. “Oh fuck…”
“I haven’t even started baby,” she laughs. She begins to pump her fingers in and out of your cunt, whispering praises to you as she brushes her thumb against your cunt. She bites her lip as you whine her name, reaching out to grip the bed sheets. “You’re so tight, bet you’ve been needing this huh…”
“Y-Yes mommy, needed it so bad,” you mumble, too engrossed in your own pleasure to truly realize the words leaving your lips. 
Ellie stops and tilts her head, looking at you with her jaw dropped, “Did you…did you just call me mommy?”
“Fuck…I-I’m so sorry, it just sli-” Ellie cuts you off by resuming her pace, speeding up her movements quickly to make you fall apart.
“Tell mommy how fucking good it feels,” Ellie commands. 
You’re quick to follow her orders, muttering pathetically about how good she’s making you feel. “Mommy…I fucking…I’m so close, need to…”
“Need to cum, don’t you pretty girl? Gonna make you cum, gonna make my pretty baby make a mess all over my lap.” Ellie curves her fingers inside you, hitting right where you need until it sends you over the edge. You let out a string of moans as you collapse forward onto Ellie, burying your face in her neck and you moan incoherently. Ellie works you through your orgasm, rubbing your back whispering praises as you come down. She sucks your juices off her fingers, continuing to rub your back and praise you as you catch your breath.
“Fuck…thank you…” You whisper, your head still buried in the crook of her neck.
Ellie smiles and pulls you close to her, “Anytime, loser.”
You roll your eyes and giggle, the word no longer feels hurtful but instead playful. Ellie pulls you off her lap and grabs your ripped panties off the floor, using them to clean you up. “These are coming home with me,” Ellie says, holding the ripped fabric up in front of your face.
You try to snatch them away from her but she’s quicker than you, stuffing them in her back pocket. “Nuh uh, these are mine now, loser. Need something to help me get off when I think about this again.”
She helps you redress and tries to help fix your hair and smudged makeup, it’s all futile thanks to the hickeys she decorated your neck and collarbones with. “You know it’s pretty dark out there, I doubt anyone will notice,” Ellie says, motioning to your hickeys.
You roll your eyes and give her a look that says ‘really?’ “Ellie, these are impossible to miss, my roommate is never gonna let me live it down.”
“I can’t help that I’m so good at humiliating you,” Ellie giggles, wrapping her arms around your waist, nuzzling her face into your neck.
“Shut up and take me back to my dorm,” you say playfully, nudging her with your head.
“Round two?” She asks hopefully.
“I’ll consider it…”
561 notes · View notes
whore-ibly-hot · 10 months
Text
Yan!Bully x Gn!Reader x Yan!Loser
'Art-Project'
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18+ Minors DNI
Warnings: Bullying, name calling, degradation, violence, mentions of non-consensual photos, nonconsensual touching, male pronouns for the yans, mentions of school, general perversion, toxic behaviors, creep behavior.
(AN: Had a fun time with this one, really enjoyed toying with the dynamic between this two. I think I'll probably make a part two with these trainwrecks in the future)
Part 2 here
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The crashing of books and pens falling on the tile floor rings out through the boy's bathroom, as a young, dark-haired boy is thrown harshly onto the cold multi-colored tile. The boy lets out a cry as he hits the ground, and he scrambles away upon impact, pressing his back up against the wall as he looks up at his assaulter.
"F-fuck off, Patrick!" Ahmed exclaims, his frightened eyes never leaving the predatory gaze of the bully who stands over him. Ahmed's free hand wanders around the bathroom floor, grasping blindly to try and find his book bag. Ahmed's accent only becomes more prominent, as his voice shakes and cracks. "Fuck did you say to me, you little shit?" Patrick grabs the boy by his collar, yanking him up from the ground and sneering at him. Ahmed gulps when he feels Patricks breath tickle his neck, making him tremble. "I-I didn't, didn't mean it, c'mon. I was just shocked when you threw me on the floor, it just slipped out." Patrick rolls his eyes, and as he does, his gaze falls on Ahmed's bright red backpack, laying open on the floor. Patrick notices how Ahmed's eyes widen when Patrick looks at it, causing Patrick to raise an eyebrow.
"What's in the bag, freak?" Patrick whispers, and before the sentence has even fully left his lips, Ahmed is fiercely shaking his head. "Nothing, nothing! Just work, please-" He hits the floor again, and he's sure tomorrow he'll be bruised from the rough treatment. "Pick it up." Ahmed looks up. "What?" "C'mon, pick it up. You're all freaked out, freak... I wanna know why, so I'm gonna tell you one more time." Patrick crouches down, and nods in the direction of the cloth schoolbag. "Pick. It. Up." He pauses after each word, relishing the fear in Ahmed's eyes.
Since Ahmed transferred to Morrisville high, Patrick had made his life a living hell. Not that he wasn't already unpopular at his old school, but people at least tried to avoid him there. People did here at first, before Patrick set his sights on Ahmed. Patrick wasn't sure what drew him to the scrawny, quiet boy. Possibly the way everyone avoided him, or maybe it was how little everyone knew about the new kid. Most likely, it was the knowledge that no matter what he did to the boy, or what he made him do, no-one was going to stand up for the boy. Patrick picked on everybody, but god, Ahmed became his favorite. The way he'd squirm, and cry. The way he was able to convince the other kids at the school to pick on the lonely boy. Things only got worse when Patrick found out that everyone at Ahmed's old school thought he was a freak too. Suddenly, shoulder-checks in the hallway became full-on beatings, stolen homework became shoes and clothes being taken from Ahmed's locker, or even right off the poor boy. Patrick never hesitated to remind Ahmed that even if he reported him, or got away from this school, that he'd still be a freak, no matter where he went.
Ahmed's sobs snap Patrick out of his reveling, as the scrawny boy crawls over to the bag, his hands shaking as he tries to grip the red canvas of the backpack. Patrick huffs, but before he can open up the backpack and take a look, he hears footsteps outside the bathroom, coming from down the hall. "Get in the fuckin' stall, go." Patrick growls, pointy sharply at the large handicapped stall at the other end of the bathroom. Patrick steps outside of the bathroom, and Ahmed can hear Patrick greeting whoever is outside. A friend of Patrick's probably. Another member of his little delinquent gang. Ahmed shuts the lid of the toilet and sinks down to sit on the lid, afraid his knees may give out. The sound of heavy boots approaches, and Patrick fingers slid around the stall door, pulling it open as he slips into the stall, locking it behind him. Ahmed tries to steady his breathing.
"Alright, open it up. C'mon." Patrick nods in Ahmed's direction. Shaking hands pull out textbooks, pens, pencils, even the leftovers from Ahmed's lunch. The objects clatter to the floor, scattering across the bottom of the stall. "See, nothing in here, just my school stuff." Ahmed's trembling hands extend the now empty bag to Patrick, presenting it almost proudly. "What... there's no fucking way." Patrick huffs. He begins to dig through the objects, kicking away the writing utensils as he grasps at the textbooks. He flips through each of the pages, trying to find anything incriminating. His frown only deepens as he finds nothing. He's about to give up, as he reaches for a blue folder labeled 'Math'. When he does, Ahmed lets out an involuntary whimper, causing Patrick to freeze. A sick grin spreads across the blonde's face, as he slowly pivots his head to look at Ahmed.
"There we go, somethin' in here you don't want me seeing?" He asks. Ahmed nods, tears cascading down his cheeks. "Alright, I'll tell you what, freak..." Patrick stands straight up, leaning up against the wall behind him. "Tell me what's in the folder, and I won't even look, okay? Just get it off your chest, I'm open-minded." Patrick purrs at the boy, watching his resolve crack in real-time.
"It's-" Ahmed goes quiet towards the end, his words so soft Patrick can't hear. "What was that? You gotta speak up." He sighs. "Or, I guess I could just look-" He moves to flip open the folder with the edge of his boot, causing Ahmed to jolt forward. "N-no!" The boy yells, thrusting his hands out in front of him. Patrick scoffs, tossing his head back for a moment as he laughs, clutching at his stomach. "Jesus, Ahmed, what the hell is in here that's got you so spooked?" Patrick asks. Ahmed shivers. Somehow Patrick using his real name is worse than him calling him 'freak'. It feels more personal.
"It's nudes... nude photographs." Ahmed whimpers, a blush of shame spreading across his cheeks as his gaze falls to the floor. "Oh- yours?" Patrick asks. Ahmed doesn't respond, causing Patrick's brows to furrow, an amused and pleasantly surprised expression coming onto his face. "Not yours, huh." Patrick glances down at the folder. "Who the hell's been giving you pussy, freak? Who's been letting you take those pics?" He asks. Ahmed's hands are tense, gripping the fabric covering his knees so hard that he worries they might tear.
"I- they didn't, alright?" Ahmed cries, curling his knees up to his chest and burying his face in shame. "They didn't-" Patrick takes a moment to process this information. His eyes light up in realization. "You really are a little pervert, huh? I knew something was off about you." He puts his hand on his knees, leaning over so he can make eye contact with Ahmed's curled up form. "A sick little pervert. You get off on those photos?" Ahmed whines. "Some poor kid at this school doesn't know that the school freak strokes it every night to a picture of them... poor them." Patrick leans down and picks up the folder.
"Wait, w-what are you doing, you said you wouldn't look if I told you the truth about what was in there?" Ahmed coughs, almost full on hyper-ventilating at this point, eyes wide in panic. Patrick nods, keeping eye contact with Ahmed as he flips open the folder. "True, but..." He shakes his head, his blonde locks falling from his loose ponytail. "How do I know you're telling me the truth about what's in here if I don't look?" Ahmed scoffs. "Why would I lie about having a folder of some creep-shots?" Patrick shrugs. "I don't know, maybe something like that doesn't seem that serious to you, y'know, because you're a pervert." He suggests. Patrick sticks his tongue teasingly out at Ahmed, before looking down at the gritty Polaroids nestled behind some math notes.
The photos are taken from all sorts of places. The ones at the front are simple upskirts from behind, the subjects face not visible. As Patrick examines more of them, he notices they seem to get more invasive. The final photograph was clearly shot at night, a bedroom window visible. The subject of the photo lies nude, and Patrick's face falls when he sees the face. He looks up at Ahmed, his breath halted. "They... they are cute, huh?" Ahmed looks up from his knees, confused. "You know them?" Ahmed swallows harshly, then nods. "Sort of... we have English together." As Ahmed explains the nature of his relationship to you, Patrick flips through the photos once more. Now that he knows these photos are of you, they have an even greater allure. "Hmm, I have lunch period with them, gym too..." He muses. "Heh, you should see em' in those little gym shorts, shit..." Ahmed isn't sure where this is going, but Patrick's calm tone and hyper-focused expression stress him out even more than when Patrick is outwardly aggressive. At least then he's predictable. Right now, Ahmed is in new territory with his tormentor.
Patrick sighs, and tucks the photos back into Ahmed's folder. He smacks the folder into the center of Ahmed's chest, making him let out a grunt as his trembling hands grip the blue plastic. "Listen, freak." He whispers. He places a hand on the wall behind Ahmed, allowing him to move his face right up in front of the boys. Brown eyes look back at him with fear. "Nobody has to know about all this. I'm still gonna kick your ass, but nobody has to know about your..." He thinks. "Let's call it 'extracurricular art project', okay?" Ahmed, gulps, and asks. "What do you want in return, I know the way you are." Patrick chuckles. "You're pretty smart, huh? Alright, I'll tell ya. Get me some of those photos, some new ones. And copy that last one, that shot into their room." He says. "Why, y-you like them too?" Ahmed whimpers. Patrick shrugs. "I know they've got a sweet little body, and I wouldn't mind a closer look at it, that's all." Ahmed considers this. If he doesn't agree, who knows what Patrick would tell everyone. God, Ahmed might even have to change schools again, and if he did, he couldn't be near you. He shakes his head. He won't let that happen.
"Alright, you got it. I- I think I can get them to you by friday." Ahmed offers, and Patrick nods. Ahmed moves to stand, but Patrick pushes him back. "One more thing, freak." He whispers. Ahmed bites his lips in fear. Patrick slips his hand from the boy's shoulder, down past his waist, and to the front of his victims school shorts. He roughly palms Ahmed's limp cock through his pants, making the boy choke on his own spit in shock. Patrick sighs softly at his reaction, leaning in to whisper into his ear.
"Snap me a pic of yourself too, freak..."
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1K notes · View notes
m0llygunn · 10 months
Text
Same Old Song and Dance (Eddie Munson x Reader)
Summary: Eddie’s teased and taunted you for the last decade of your life but you’re not innocent. It’s always been a game, a dance if you will.
Tropes: bully!eddie (kind of), enemies to lovers (kind of). Warnings: 18+! mature language, hair pulling, ‘bullying’, pet names (princess, sweetheart), fingering, smut. Author’s note: There’s definitely a possibility for a part 2, possibly 3, but idk yet, we’ll see. wc: 5.4k
part 2 here
part 3 here
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Eddie yanked a little too hard this time, he knew it as soon as he did it and your hand drew to the back of your neck, cradling it in your hold. He just couldn’t resist. Your hair was pulled back into a ponytail with all those perfectly spun curls and it was hypnotizing, practical calling to him, just asking for him to pull it.
He waited for the back fire, for you to spin in your chair and yell at him but it didn’t come this time. This time you just let your hand rub at your neck before raising your other hand to get the teachers attention.
“Can I go to the bathroom, please?” You ask politely, hand still rubbing over the sore muscle. 
With approval, you scooted back your chair and quietly left the class.
Waiting around the corner of the hall it’s not long before you hear the scuff of running shoes on the linoleum floor. You knew he’d come after you. 
When you watch him pass the corner, heading straight in the hall towards the girls bathroom, you quickly catch up behind him, taking a handful of his hair in your fist and yanking him back.
He falls into you with a pained moan before catching himself, his own hand rubbing at his scalp. 
“What the fuck was that for?” He groans, standing straight, looming over you. 
“Doesn’t feel so good does it?” You scold, trying your best to keep your edge while Eddie stares you down. His lips curl into a smile, eyes lighting up.
“Princess, I’ll let you pull my hair any day. I just wasn’t expecting it is all.” He says, taking a step closer to you. 
You turn on the heels of your feet heading back to the class but a hand around your wrist stops you. 
“Princess, let me talk to you for a minute.” He says, a smile evident in his voice.
“No, I already wasted enough time coming out here.” You huff.
“C’mon, just one minute.” He says, pulling you towards him.
You pause, contemplating your decision and Eddie takes that as a yes before you can say anything. 
Your shoes drag along the floor, trying to slow Eddie down from his fast pace as he pulls you down the hall right into the girls bathroom. 
“What, Eddie?” You spit, finally pulling your wrist free from him after he checks that all the stalls are empty. You cross your arms over your chest so he knows you’re serious. 
“Aw princess, lighten up, would ya?” He says, hand reaching over your shoulder for your ponytail again. You turn your head away to stop him from grabbing it but he steps forward, invading your space, taking a strand of hair in his fingers and twirling it.
“What. Do. You. Want.” You bitterly spit, foot nearly stomping on the floor in the process.
Eddie’s eyes flicker over your face, smirk playing on his lips, clearly enjoying your annoyance. It’s always the same old song and dance with him. He pisses you off, and then revels in your anger. He practically lives for it. 
“Jus’ wanted to apologize.” He says, words sweet coming from his lips… too sweet. You furrow your brows, trying to figure out what he’s playing at.
“Apologize?” You question.
“Yes, ma’am. Pulled too hard this time, didn’t I?” He says softly, eyes flitting to where he twirls your hair before his fingers dance towards the back of your neck, warmth of his palm pressing into the sore muscle.
“Yeah.” You agree, your mouth going dry as your heart rate picks up. 
“I’ll remember for next time, sweetheart. Won’t pull that hard again unless you ask me to.” He says, fingers pressing into your neck in a gentle massage. 
You can’t lie, his touch feels nice on the strained muscle. It’s taking everything in you to not melt into the way his fingers rub over the affected area. 
“Want me to come over later? I can rub your neck just like this, make you feel real good.” He says, voice going low as he spins you to face away from him, both his hands going to your neck. His touch stays gentle, hands rubbing from the base of your neck to your shoulders. 
When you feel him step closer to you, his chest against your back, that's when your personal red flag alarm goes off, sending you in motion.
“Quit it!” You shrill, spinning to look at Eddie.
“What’s wrong? Thought you were enjoying it? You were practically moaning.” He teases smugly. “Oh Eddie. Come over and massage my neck for me. Oh, it feels so good.” He moans, pitching his voice up.
“I’m going back to class.” You say turning and swinging the door open. Eddie pulls the door open above your head, following you out.
“What a coincidence, I am too. Let’s walk together.” Eddie says, trying to grab at your hand but you swat him away, making him laugh.
When you get back to class, your stomach sinks as you notice everyone has changed places, sitting in groups of two, all scribbling away at worksheets.
Mrs. Ward snaps her fingers, motioning for you to take your seat, Eddie still trailing behind you.
“Since you two were off galavanting the school halls, you missed your opportunity to pick your partners for this assignment like everyone else. You’ll be working together.” Mrs. Ward says, dropping two worksheets onto your desk, motioning for you to pass one back to Eddie. 
You stare at the two blank worksheets. Mrs. Ward began the class by talking about a big project that would be replacing the midterm but you didn’t know that you’d be starting it today.
“Oh, princess. I believe one of those is for me.” Eddie sings from behind you. 
You grab your ponytail knowing that’s exactly what he’d go for when you don’t turn around and you meet him there just in time to be able to grab his hand in yours, spinning yourself to look at him.
“My neck is still sore from the last time, can you give it a fucking rest?” You seethe through your teeth, keeping your voice low.
“Princess, if you wanted to hold my hand you could have just asked.” Eddie says, making you look down to where your fingers are wrapped over the back of his hand.
“I don’t want to hold your hand.” You spit harshly, twisting his arm so he nearly falls out of his chair. He lets out a small yelp, twisting to the side before you let go. He looks around the room noticing how the incident has gathered a few looks but he takes it in stride, scooching his chair back into his desk, rolling his shoulder a few times to get the sting out. 
“Jesus Christ, princess. Just hand over the worksheet before you get me all riled up.” Eddie smirks after he rights himself in his chair, rolling the shoulder of the arm you twisted.
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“So it looks like I will be coming over later.” Eddie says startlingly as he comes up behind you, speaking far too closely into your ear. 
“Nope. We can go to the library.” You retort, grabbing the books you need for your final period out of your locker. 
“The library? Full of commoners? No way, I say we go back to your place, I can rub your neck for you a little, and you can start to do the project.” He says, fingertips walking over the slope of your neck until you swat him away, once again.
“Pass.”
“Sounds like a sweet deal to me, you should take it.”
“You’re helping with the project. I’m not gonna let you skip out on it.” You spin, shooting Eddie a glare so he knows you’re serious. 
“Oh yeah?” He says, eyebrows raising. You shrug your shoulders, losing your edge as his gaze dwindles into something you're not sure of.
“What are you gonna do? Gonna punish me if I don’t behave.” He says, stepping closer to you, dipping his face to yours.
His body looms over yours, cornering you in your locker. You’re left dumbfounded, not by his words, but by the way he’s looking at you, eyes dark yet inviting, drinking you in entirely. His lips curl into a smile and your eyes unwillingly flicker to them.
“Stop, Eddie.” You push him back by the chest, embarrassment spreading over you because you know he caught your glance at his lips by the way his eyes light up. 
“Fine. Fine. My princess wants to go to the library, we’ll go to the library. I’m just saying, we could get a lot more done if we were all alone.” He says, voice going low and suggestive.
“I’m not yours.” You argue, slamming your locker.
“Of course that’s the part that ticks you off.” Eddie laughs.
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Your last class of the day was uneventful but the flickering light in the back of the room left you with a headache and the desire to get home and lay down for the rest of the evening. Fuck the project with Eddie. You have a month to do it anyways you don’t really need to get started yet. 
“Ready to go?” Eddie says as he leans against the locker next to yours.
“No. I’m canceling, sorry.” You say flatly.
“Canceling?” He furrows his brows.
“Yup.” You say, popping the ‘p’.
“Why?” He asks, eyes flickering over you like he’s looking for your reason.
“None of your business.” You retort.
“It is my business.” He quips back. 
“Not really.” You say closing your locker and swinging your bag over your shoulder. You start walking away but just as you predicted, Eddie won’t let it go and he follows you.
“Princess, I agreed we could go to the library, let’s just go.” He says, as he does his best to keep up with you as you swerve your way through the students. 
“Yeah, but not today.” You groan, hands going to push open the door but Eddie beats you to it, pushing it open from over your head.
The bright light beaming from the sun makes you wince, shielding your eyes with your hands. It amplifies the pounding of your head and you pause, waiting for your eyes to adjust but it never comes. 
“What’s wrong?” He asks, stepping in front of you, blocking the sun but it’s totally coincidental, he’s just trying to get in your face again.
“Nothing.” You shrug, pushing past Eddie to walk to the school gates, hands still shielding your eyes from the sun.
“Yeah, something's wrong.” He says, pulling you back by your backpack, moving to stand in front of you again. You lower your hands, the sun not beaming into your eyes as harshly anymore as he stands in front of you. 
“My head hurts, Eddie. I want to go home, can you please just let me go home.” You plead.  
“Let me drive you.” He says without batting an eye. 
“No.” You say stubbornly. 
“You walk right? Just let me drive you. I won’t try anything, I swear.” Eddie says softly.
You pause contemplating your answer and that’s, once again, enough for Eddie to take it as a yes, pulling you by the wrist to the parking lot. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
“My head hurts Eddie, I’m still capable of buckling myself in, thank you very much.” You say, taking the belt from his hands and pressing it into the buckle yourself.
“Just giving you the 5 star treatment, making sure you’ll come back.” He smirks, closing your door for you. He rounds the van, pulling open his own door and hopping in. 
The drive goes by quickly with you giving quiet directions. At every corner, Eddie already has the blinker on before you can even tell him to turn. When you point out your house, he hums like he already knows. 
Before you hop out, the words ‘thank you’ sit on your tongue but they don’t come. You know he would twist it into something else. You give him an inch, he takes a mile. 
“Bye, Eddie.” You say, propping the door open after unbuckling yourself. He doesn’t say anything back.
When you shut the van door, you hear an identical slam from the other side of the vehicle. 
“You can’t come in.” You huff, now knowing taking the ride was just a trick of his.
“Let me walk my girl to her door, yeah?” Eddie says, strolling around the front of the van, stopping at your side. 
You roll your eyes and head to the front door, pulling out your keys. 
As soon as you push the door open, Eddie’s quick to slip in before you can even get a foot in the house.
“Hey!” You protest but it’s too late he’s already toeing his shoes off. “You said you wouldn’t try anything.” You say, words coming out weak and you feel your head pound. 
“I’m not trying anything. Just making sure you’re okay.” Eddie says matter of factly, his hand wrapping around your wrist, tugging you into the house. He pulls at your bag, making it fall from your shoulders and you glare at him, waiting for whatever he’s planning to happen. 
“Eddie, you have to go. My dad will be pissed if he has to park on the street when he gets home.” You say, trying your best to make it convincing.
“Sweetheart, that’s like a 6 car driveway he won’t have to park on the street.” Eddie laughs. “Where do you keep your advil, I’ll get you some.” He says, eyes connecting with yours and they almost look warm. It surprises you. His eyes are typically filled with amusement, taunting you, teasing you. Warmth is new and it makes your belly flutter with nerves. 
“Kitchen.” You say, narrowing your eyes, pushing past whatever you think you see in his. You should know better, he’s probably just working his way up to some big joke. 
He trudges through your house and you have no choice but to follow behind him, he’s not getting free reign of your living space. 
“It’s a nice house, princess. Daddy must work long hours, huh?” Eddie says with a teasing lilt. 
“Just when I thought you were being nice.” You mumble to yourself. He’s not wrong though, your dad does stay late at work most days. 
“This is me being nice, can’t you tell?” Eddie laughs. “Just take a seat, princess. Let me be real nice to you, let me make you feel better.” He says, voice holding the same reoccurring suggestiveness. You grimace as you watch him open cabinets. He grabs a glass as he comes across them and you take a tentative seat at the kitchen bar, watching him as he finally finds the advil.
“If you didn’t say weird stuff like that, I would think you were being nice.” You state flatly. 
“S’only weird if you make it weird.” He retorts, filling the glass with water.
“No. I think it’s objectively weird and sexual. I might have actually thought you were being sweet if you didn’t ruin it by talking.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“Well it’s a good thing you don’t think that because I’m not sweet.” Eddie laughs, setting down your water in front of you and slamming the bottle of advil a little too hard, making you wince.
“The way you slammed that, I think you're purposefully trying to not be sweet.” You say, tugging on his exposed nerve. He just gave you an edge to grab at and he doesn’t even realize it. 
“I think you don’t know what you're talking about so shut up and take the advil.” He says, sounding annoyed, jaw clenching. You smile, realizing you’re getting to him. After years of him tunneling his way under your skin, this is how you return the favor. This is your golden ticket. 
“My neck still hurts.” You state, seeing if he’ll take the bait.
“So?” He replies bluntly, leaning back against the counter, eyes burning into you as he continues clenching his jaw. Pursing your lips, you switch your tactic seeing as he didn’t take the bait.
Pulling off your sweater, leaving you in your tank top, you sigh dramatically. You can practically feel his eyes exploring your freshly exposed skin and you try to hold back your smile.
“So that was all talk earlier? Should have known.” You say making eye contact with him, his eyes quickly shooting to yours from wherever they were roaming your body. 
“Hm?” He asks, looking mildly confused but trying to hold onto some indifference.
“In the bathroom? When you apologized for pulling my hair too hard and hurting my neck?” You say, eyebrows raised waiting for him to clue in.
He smirks when he realizes what you’re getting at, his bad attitude lost in the wind. 
“You want me to rub your neck for you? That it, sweetheart?” He coos, pushing off the counter and taking a step closer to you.
You don’t reply, you just close your eyes, making a sad attempt at rubbing your own neck. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips when you feel his hands take over, pushing your own hands away. 
“Take your advil, princess. I’ll have you feeling better in no time.” He chides. You scoff, because of course he has to add some stupid comment. You take the advil, washing it back with the water, as Eddie’s fingertips press into your tender muscles, thumbs trailing up and down the length of your neck.
“This chair’s uncomfy, Eddie. Can we move to the couch?” You say, spinning on the stool to look at him, fluttering your eyelashes. He looks stunned at first, hands still hovering in the air where they were on your neck. He nods slowly, swallowing thickly. 
You jump off the seat, taking his wrist in your hand, leading him down the hall. 
“How do you want me, Eddie?” You say innocently, standing in front of the couch waiting for instructions. Eddie’s cheeks tinge pink and your excitement increases tenfold.
“M-maybe we can just sit?” He stutters, eyes avoiding yours. You revel in seeing him scattered like this.
“Oh, I thought for sure you’d want me laying down, but we can sit.” You say, taking a seat perching on the edge of the couch. You look up at Eddie through your lashes and he finally gets the hint to take a seat behind you.
His hands slowly take purchase on the back of your neck again, thumbs rubbing small circles on your skin.
“Feels really good, Eddie.” You say breathily, purposefully pitching your voice up.
“Yeah?” He asks, his voice almost shaking. 
The jangle of the chains on his jacket draws your attention as they ring in your ear with each movement, and that’s your next route of attack.
“Your jacket keeps scratching me though.” You huff, exhaling deeply. 
“Oh, sorry. Want me to take it off.” He apologizes, his movements halting. His voice comes out small and genuine, not at all like the boy that's teased and taunted you for the past decade of your life. 
“Yes, please.” You say in a sugary sweet voice. 
He pulls away enough to remove his jacket, and you turn to take it from him, tossing it to the other side of the couch, letting your hand rest on his thigh.
“Can I sit there?” You ask, pointing to the spot between his legs. Eddie swallows harshly and you swear you’ve never seen him so affected by anything you’ve ever done, even when you yell at him and he gets all smirky. 
“S’all yours.” He replies, clearing his throat, evidently trying to collect himself.
With your hand on his thigh, you pull his leg so there’s more of a gap for you to sit in, and you lift your bum enough to scoot over, his knees bracketed your hips now.
“There, that’s better.” You sigh.
Eddie’s hands continue to massage you, fingers working further and further away from your neck, moving down your shoulders as he exploringly lets his fingers slip under the straps of your bra and tank top. You can tell he’s pushing it now, you gave him an inch, he’s taking a mile. He just needed a minute to gather himself.
“You know you could just admit it?” You say, interrupting the silence of the room.
“Admit… what?” He laughs, his words rolling off his tongue in a manner that makes you sound stupid. 
“Instead of pulling my hair, stealing my things, sneaking up on me just to scare me, all that other stuff you do, it would just be so much easier.” You say, not backing down. 
“What would?” He asks again, voice the tiniest bit quieter.
“If you admitted it.” You say flatly.
“I’m.. I’m not following sweetheart.” He laughs again. 
“It’s really quite juvenile, Eddie. All those playground antics, it’s not fooling anyone.” You say, shifting backwards, closer to Eddie to up the ante. 
“I’m not trying to fool anyone, princess.” He says, getting defensive. You have him right where you want him.
“But I think you are, Eddie. I think you’re dying to be sweet to me. You want to so badly, I mean, look at you right now. Letting me sit between your legs so you can massage my neck, driving me home, making sure I’m feeling better.” You taunt.
“I’m not sweet. I told you already, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” He says, fingertips digging harshly into your shoulders. 
“What’s so wrong with being sweet, Eddie? What if I like it? Then what?” You say. His fingertips dig harshly into your skin, making you yelp and he eases instantly, fingers gently passing over the area as if to say sorry.
You think he’s about to pull away. You pushed him too far and his mile’s over, but you’re sorely mistaken. His fingertips leave your skin only to be replaced by scattered kisses on the crescent moon indents he left on your skin. 
“You tell me, sweetheart. You like it when I’m mean to you, don’t you?” He says lowly, breath tickling you as he presses another kiss to your shoulder. 
His hands move to your waist, fingertips grazing you gently like he’s waiting for you to stop him, but when you don’t, they find purchase on your hips, pulling your back, flush to his chest. 
“Don’t think I didn’t see you looking at my lips earlier. So why don’t you admit whatever it is you want to say? Then we can move past this little charade of yours.” 
“Charade of mine?” You laugh, but it comes out broken, distracted by the kisses he continues to lay on your skin. 
“That’s what I said, princess.” Eddie says cooly.
“Eddie, you pulled my hair.” You huff, trying to regain an edge to your words.
“You pulled my hair too, princess.” He says gently, mouth pressing up the side of your neck to your ear. 
“You tease me.” You add.
“And you yell at me.” He retaliates. “Princess, you sat in front of me. You could have sat anywhere in the class, but you picked the seat in front of mine. You like this little game.” He whispers, breath fanning over the shell of your ear giving you shivers down your spine. 
“Eddie.” You whisper back. You meant to add more to your point but every thought is pulled from you as he kisses a spot behind your ear, making a whine pull in your throat. 
“If I told you how much I wanted you, what would you say?” He whispers, pressing a kiss to the same spot, making you hum. 
“I wouldn’t say anything and you’d take that as a yes just like you always do.”
“I’d need a real answer from you princess, wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want, promise. If you told me to stop, I would.” He speaks with a tender and genuine voice, whispering his words into your skin, giving you more shivers up your spine.
“What if I didn't want you to stop?” You whisper, fully absorbed by his presence now. 
“Then I wouldn’t.” He punctuates his words with another kiss to your neck.
“Sounds like you’re sweet on me.” You say, reverting back to your old banter when you find yourself at a loss for words. 
“Kind of does, doesn’t it?” He laughs. 
“Might even like me?” You say, even though you know the answer already. You both know the answer already.
“Better watch yourself, princess.” He teases, not even a hint of malice behind his words. 
You slump into Eddie, your back molding perfect to his chest. His hands glide from your hips over your lower belly, fingertips dancing just above the button of your jeans.
“Do you want me to stop, princess?” He asks, chest vibrating with his words.
You swallow harshly, trying to find your words but you can’t do it, you just shake your head. 
“Gotta use your words, princess. I know you got ‘em in that smart mouth of yours.” He teases.
“Don’t stop, Eddie.” You say so breathily you almost don’t recognize your own voice. 
“Gonna let me touch you?” He says, fingers finding the button of your jeans finally, making your stomach flutter in anticipation. 
“Yeah, touch me.” You parrot back.
He undoes the button in one hand, zipper lowered with the other. He slips his fingers under the waistband of your panties gliding down on your skin until his hand rests over your mound. He places a chaste kiss to the side of your head before dipping his fingers into you, fingertips swirling in your wetness.
“Look at you princess, all hot and wet for me.” He groans. 
“Don’t do that.” You say, feeling embarrassed. He stills his movements, pulling from you slightly.
“Don’t do what?” He asks, voice becoming serious. 
“Don’t make fun of me.” You reply quietly.
“I’m not, princess.” He says sounding hurts. “I think it’s hot. I like how wet you are, wouldn’t make fun of you for it.” He says genuinely but you still feel a flash of embarrassment. 
“Sounds like you are.” You reply quietly. 
“Would you make fun of me for how hard I am right now?” He says, pushing his hips forward enough for you to feel him against your lower back. 
“Maybe.” You tease, smiling to yourself.
“Cruel, cruel girl.” He teases right back making you laugh. “Do you want to stop or keep going?” He offers.
“Keep going.” You say confidently, feeling better knowing you have a similar effect on him. 
His fingers slide between your folds again, fingertips passing over your clit, making your hips jolt as he returns to your wetness, gathering it before moving back to your bundle of nerves. 
With three fingers he begins rubbing slow, pleasure filled, circles against you making you sigh. His movements increase gradually until he has you moaning, hips bucking as you seek out more. 
Just like he can read your mind, he lets his fingers draw down, sinking two of them into you, the palm of his hand pressing onto your clit. 
His fingers stretch you, making you whine in the added friction that you needed. He pushes them in further, deeper than your own fingers can go, and he curves them, reaching a spot you’ve never even grazed before, a spot that has you canting your hips, pushing your back further against his chest as you arch. 
“Right there, princess? Is that the spot?” He coos and you nod your head dumbly, eyes squeezing shut as you let his voice hum in your ears.
“Mhhm, right there Eddie.” You gasp as his fingers wiggle, drawing back and pushing in right against it. 
He continues his daft movements, making you squirm against him until his other hand sprawls against your lower belly, holding you still against him.
“Eddie.” You moan, feeling lost in the pleasure. 
“Yeah, princess? Want me to keep doing that? You gonna cum like this?” He whispers lowly in your ear. His voice gives you butterflies, making your stomach twist and turn fiery hot as it adds to the pool of heat in your core. 
“Ke-keep going. G-gonna cum.” You cry as his palm grinds against your clit with each drag of his fingers against that spongy spot inside you. You grip harshly on his thighs, trying to steady yourself as you feel bubbling heat quickly rising inside of you. 
“Want you to cum for me. Need to see it, princess.” He groans, face pressing into the side of your head, hand pushing against your lower belly, adding to the impossibly tight tension growing there. 
With a final high pitched whine, you melt, all of the tension exploding before evaporating into a wash of pleasure. It’s red hot, yet light as a feather as it comes over you, making you feel like you’re floating and the only thing holding you down is Eddie’s arms wrapped around you.
You feel his breathing against your cheek and the rise and fall of his chest against your back. You hold onto the steadiness of it, matching each breath to your own as you gracefully fall from your high. You whimper, feeling his movements continue against you and he slows before coming to a halt. 
When you catch your breath, you shift against him and he draws his slicked fingers from you, resting his wrist against his thigh, careful not to make any more of a mess of you than he already has.
With a deep exhale, you really let your body relax into Eddie’s. Your tired eyes flutter shut as you turn your head to rest against his chest with a content sigh. 
“That good, sweetheart?” He whispers, and you should have known he’d be back to teasing you. 
“Why do you always have to ruin things by talking?” You huff, eyes still shut, not bothering to move your tired body. 
“Fine, I won’t talk.” He says and you can tell by his voice he’s smirking. It only takes a second before you feel his lips kissing your face, placing chaste kisses wherever he can reach from the way he’s dipping his head to yours.
“See, that’s sweet.” You reply with a teasing lilt, but he stays silent, remaining true to his words of not talking.
You shift in his lap, turning to face him. You try to move to the floor, to sink to your knees between his legs but his hold doesn’t let you.
“You don’t want me to?” You ask quietly. He shrugs, tugging you back to his chest but you resist, keeping your eyes on him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, clueing in that he’s still not talking. 
He shrugs again.
“Eddie. Speak.” You say harshly and he laughs, breaking his short lived silence. 
“Princess, it’s way too easy getting to you.” He amusedly huffs, shaking his head.
“Do you want me to suck your dick or not?” You ask with a scowl, not appreciating the way he’s purposefully pressing your buttons. 
“I do, but not right now.” He says, a smirk plastered on his face like he’s up to something.
His hand rubs against your back, soothing you in a way that you didn’t know he could.
“Well, what do you want to do right now?” You ask shyly.
“I’m gonna go home.” He says tilting his head to you, still smiling. You frown, narrowing your eyes on him. You didn't expect for him to say that.
“You’re going home?” You ask, never feeling more confused by Eddie in your life. 
“Yup. You know, the place I live?” He says, teasing you now.
“To do what?” You ask, frown etching deeper on your features. 
“Honestly? Probably rub one out while I think about all the pretty noises you just made for me.” He says matter of factly and now you’re really confused.
“Why don’t you want me to suck your dick then?” You say, heat rising to your face as you think about Eddie touching himself to the thought of you. 
“Can't give you everything you want at once, that’s how princesses get spoiled.” He teases with a smirk. “Besides, gotta give you a reason to come back.” He says, inching his face closer to yours, his eyes focusing where his fingers have risen to play with the strap of your tank top. 
“And what if I don’t?” You reply, inching your own face closer to his. 
“You will.” He says confidently. You purse your lips in a smile because you know he’s right. You know you’ll come back to him. You both know it, the same way you both know he’ll come back to you. 
It’s always the same old song and dance with Eddie, and what fun is it to dance by yourself? 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
2K notes · View notes
belleetoiles · 3 months
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pair. sukuna ryoumen x afab!reader
cw. edging (because i KNOW you've seen that scene), fingerfucking, clit smacking, pet names ("little girl" + "brat"), spit, brat taming
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how long has it been?
minutes? hours? you've lost track of time with the thick fog muddying your mind. you're not even sure how many times you've gotten so close to the edge just to be ripped away, no longer counting because what's the point?
after all, counting won't make sukuna any nicer to you. pity isn't in his repertoire.
all you know is this: the king of curses is merciless in his punishment, if you can even call it that anymore, with his fingers quickly withdrawing and taking your breath along with them every time he feels the familiar squeeze of your muscle—the pathetically desperate and ultimately helpless way you clamp your thighs together to try and make him stay buried in your warmth.
"please," you whine with the slightest tremor in your voice, weak and needy, going straight to his dick. he didn't think his ego could be stroked any more but here you are begging for him to help you; please, please, please. won't you?
he indulges you for a moment, just to see your face screw up in satisfaction thinking you'd finally won him over, only to pull his hand away and deliver a swift smack to your clit once more. you squeal, jolting from his relentless ministrations.
"quit teasing!"
his expression darkens, head tilting back to glare down at you. he free hand takes hold of your ankle and drives your knee up toward your chest, putting you in a more humiliating position than before.
"watch your mouth, little girl. know who you're talking to."
his fingers slide back into you with ease, slicked with your juices and he swears your cunt might be weeping even more than you are. your hands grasp at your pillow on either side of your head as you cry out. it's filthy. he hasn't had pussy this good in eons.
for good measure, he cranes down and spits on it, roughly fingerfucking it into you and purposefully slamming into your clit with the base of his palm.
you can only babble and mewl in response, fresh tears gathering in your lashes as he pushes you toward the cliff again. "need it— need it, please! i'll do anything!"
"aren't you nasty, hm?" he laughs as if considering your offer, a guttural sound deep and primal. a part of your brain screams at you to escape from this monster but the other part is already melting into mush with how good it feels. "go on then, try and cum. see what happens."
your hand shoots down to grab at his wrist and you desperately tug at it to urge him to keep fucking you with his fingers. it's cute, he thinks. adorable how greedy you've gotten to go so far as to defy him. so he allows it, just once even though he hates being told what to do, and curls his fingers until he can feel the pads abusing a spot that makes you keen.
"f-fu—" you breathe, mouth going dry and words dying on your tongue. he releases your ankle to hold you down firm, hand on your tummy to press you into the mattress. you squirm under him, a baby bunny caught by the big bad wolf, unable to get your spine off the mattress. he wouldn't give you that if he's already spoiling you by letting you cum—wouldn't that be too generous?
"not yet," he hisses, eyeing the way your cunt swallows his fingers whole and the way they emerge glistening in your sopping fluids. "not yet."
you're not sure how much longer you can take this, breaths coming shallow and ragged as he bullies himself into you. disobedience is what got you into this situation in the first place, who knows how mean he'll be if you do it a second time.
sukuna drinks in your expression a little longer, mouth hung open and eyes silently pleading him to finally let you cum. he's a monster driven by his own pleasures, and he's going to enjoy every moment of this until he's satisfied.
he leans down, lips smearing up your jaw until he can feel your racing pulse against his own throat, and grunts, "go on, brat. let me watch."
all it takes is a few more pumps of his fingers and you unravel completely, cries coming out as weak, choked noises that get swallowed by the air. he indeed watches, entirely amused with how easy it is to make modern day girls cum.
the way your pussy milks his fingers makes his straining dick throb. he frowns at how pleased you look, the adoration shining in your eyes.
he wants to ruin you.
"i hate you humans," he groans as his cockhead glides along your fold and pushes into your leaking hole. "never knowing when to quit."
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© BELLEETOILES 2023 — do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my work to other platforms.‏‏‏‏‎‏‏‎
852 notes · View notes
percygranate · 11 months
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⚠️PSA – ickybatz is back! Predators on AO3⚠️
⚠️TW for Mentions of Child Sexual Abuse, Child Abuse, Minor Sexual Content, Pedophilia, GROOMING, and Pedophile Conversations. PLEASE read and reblog if you can.
IMPORTANT UPDATE: Demobatz is NOT ickybatz, also known as batty-ruski, battyrusk.
I made a mistake by assuming due to the names, and after being in contact with Demobatz, I edited the post. I apologize for this but don't fully regret calling them out, as it helped Demobatz realize they made a mistake and it brought a lot of attention to the issue of predators on AO3 and Tumblr.
In-depth explanation [HERE]!
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This 13/16-year-old CHILD is out here asking for pedophilia requests and getting encouraged and groomed by predators.
I accidentally came across it, and I encourage you to report them and everyone interacting with their work. There is a difference between dark romance, dark fics, and straight-up romanticization of children being assaulted.
They write about these children actively partaking and enjoying it, hoping they can please the adult taking advantage of them. These works are clearly written for the type of person that gets off on it.
——— Update ———
Their way of writing to cope with past trauma was groomed and manipulated by predators on AO3.
——— Update ———
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——— False Information | Demobatz isn't Ickybatz ———
So much for “Oh, they are a traumatized child and made a mistake.” They now know it's wrong and continue doing it, even worse than before. And people continue to support it.
Their fucking apology was absolute bullshit. And everyone that came to their defense should be ashamed of themselves.
——— False Information | Demobatz isn't Ickybatz ———
↓ Here are AO3 accounts supporting this. ↓
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Yes, they put warnings on their work and say “Don’t Like It, Don’t Read It!” But I would like to show you what they are writing, and how they are getting the attention of predators. I am sure you have to agree with me that they and everyone supporting this need to lose any type of platform they own. Demobatz should NOT be in any contact with these men.
⚠️They encourage each others to write this and Demobatz, A 13/16-YEAR-OLD, is actively putting themselves in danger by making “friends” for roleplay, and exchanging social media, with very likely, PEDOPHILES. They are actively getting groomed by people that know what they are doing.⚠️
——————————————————
↓These are their two original works↓
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Financial Struggles — The summary says it all. But I feel like I should point out their conversation under their post.
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Mother’s Milk — Sexual Assault of a male baby.
——————————————————
↓This is their work in the Stranger Things Fandom↓
Their work “Deceit” which is taking requests and actively posting has, as of May 21st, 16 Chapters.
1 — “Using this as a coping mechanism for my own trauma. Please request, any age is allowed❤️”
2 — Eddie Munson, 25 y/o | Reader, 17 y/o
3 — Uncle Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson | Reader, 6 y/o
4 — Eddie Munson, 20 y/o | Reader, 12 y/o
5 — Steve, 19 y/o & Eddie, 20 y/o | Reader, 14 y/o
6 — Dad Steve | Reader, 8 y/o
7 — Dad Steve & Eddie | Reader, 8 y/o
8 — Big Brother Steve | Reader, 4 y/o
9 — Big Brother Billy Hargrove | Reader, 6 y/o
10 — “Posting this so that you all can give me ideas on what to post next❤️ Anything is allowed/ age can be whatever you want♡♡!”
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11 — Billy & Steve | Reader, 3 y/o
12 — Hopper & Joyce | Reader, 4 y/o
13 — !BILLY HARGROVE AND A NEWBORN BABY!
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14 — Billy | Reader, 6 y/o & Max, 7 y/o
15 — “It hasn't been a week and I'm almost at 2,000 reads! Thank you all so much♡♡ Feel free to drop suggestions, request or even ideas/blurbs♡♡”
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16 — Big Brother Eddie / Reader over the years, starting at 6 y/o
——————————————————
They actively encourage pedophilia and put themselves on a silver platter for predators.
If you are still trying to justify these types of works, please do it off anon and openly so you can be blocked since you are part of the problem.
Do not send threats, bullying, or harassment their way. Block and Report.
If you know one or more of the interacting blogs, call them out.
⚠️UPDATE: 22nd of May⚠️
Dear fellow Bloggers, Demobatz pedophilia fic “Deceit” has been taken down!
Yet their two original works (mentioned above) are still there. I ask you to keep reporting them!
Demobatz is currently using Wit as their social media to exchange ideas for their CSA & incest Erotica, and worse, to roleplay with potential predators.
⚠️Update: May 25th⚠️
AO3 has removed their account or they deleted it themselves. Their Wit profile has been deleted.
Due to this post, my blogs keep getting shadowbanned and reported.
⚠️Update: May 26th⚠️
DEMOBATZ CONTACTED ME AND I CAN CONFIRM THIS APOLOGY TO BE REAL!
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In-depth continuation and explanation [HERE]!
⚠️I turned off Reblogs as the original post with false information is still making rounds and therefore people are missing information.⚠️
1K notes · View notes
kira-fluff · 1 year
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"can you pretend to be my boyfriend?"
pairing: osamu miya x reader (haikyuu!!) a/n: unfortunately based off a true story. tw: anxiety, bullying, swearing, threatening
you sidled yourself in a seat next to your good friend. "heeeeey 'samu~" you grinned.
"what do ya want?"
"can i not just want to greet my amazing friend?"
he gave you a skeptical look and you blanched. "well, uhm..."
"if it's my food ya want, yer not gettin' it." he grumbled, selfishly sucking more milk through his straw.
"can you be my boyfriend?"
comically, osamu proceeded to spew the milk in his mouth out in shock, nearly missing atsumu who sat across the table, much to both of their dismay.
wiping some milk from his mouth, osamu managed to choke out a strained, "yer for real..?"
you blinked, then flushed, "i-i-i meant for pretend, i mean it!" you bit your lip, "there's this girl who recently decided she doesn't like me. i'm not sure why... but she started telling rumors and lies about me to other people.....including her boyfriend. and...and.. he's super intimidating..." you looked away, "'samu, he came up to me the other day and said that if i mess with 'his girl'... that i'd 'regret it'....'samu, i'm scared. it's silly, right? but.. but it would just make me feel safer.."
a warm hand fell on your shoulder, "'s not silly. 's a threat. do ya want me 'ta take care of him?"
you shook your head quickly, "n-no! i just... i need you to just.. pretend. i know it's weird, but it would mean a lot to me, okay?"
osamu eyed you up and down before saying, "why me?"
your eyes widened and you once again couldn't look him in the eye. after all, it'd be pretty lame to confess after he so blatantly shot you down a few minutes ago. "well, you're my best 'guy' friend. and you're pretty much built like a greek god--"
he smirked, amused, "ya think 'm built like a greek god?"
"i'm still here, guys, keep the flirting to a minimum," piped in atsumu.
you both turned in unison to him, identically saying, "shut up, 'tsumu."
you cleared your throat, "anyway, you're bulky and strong and could definitely beat him in a fight."
"obviously."
"so will you help me... please?"
osamu's resolve seemed to waver the longer your stared into his eyes with a begging expression. to be honest, the moment he'd heard that some guy was harassing you, he was beyond pissed off and was ready to agree to just about anything you asked of him. but, once he found out that you had also wanted to be his (albeit, pretend) girlfriend? it seemed like the perfect opportunity to show you what it could really be like.. and how much he loved you.
"i guess." he said, his cheeks slightly flushing.
it shocked you that he had agreed. after all, this is osamu you're talking about. he scarcely looked your way, much less harbored any idea of you being his girlfriend. and yet here you were, walking down the halls, holding hands. he avoided your gaze, though you knew him well enough to know he wasn't annoyed with you, just embarrassed, which you had expected.
what you hadn't expected, however, was that girl. you call her that girl because you honestly didn't know her name. only that she despised you. you frowned, recalling the numerous times your friends walked up to you telling you she'd said you were "annoying" or that she was surprised you were ever invited to anything what with the way you make everything about yourself. you knew your friends meant well but a part of you wished they'd never told you. you weren't exaggerating when you say that you are a "drama-free" person. you seemed to always be the last one to hear the gossip going around and certainly the last to spread anything. it upset you that despite your best efforts someone had decided that you were irritating enough to make comments to others about. you tried to not take things personally, you really did, but when you'd heard her talking about you while you were in a bathroom stall, it took all of your strength to hold back your tears. unfortunately, because you're drama-free, you also aren't the most confrontational person. rather, you preferred confrontation when the other people didn't seem to take anything anyone ever did personally. you thought back on yourself, searching for anything you could've done wrong to bother her but after much consolation from friends, turned up nothing. still, a part of you felt like it was all your fault. maybe you could've tried harder to be extra kind to her?
you were broken out of your thoughts by a squeeze to your hand. making eye contact with that girl, she rolled her eyes and turned, walking the other way. osamu looked down at you in concern as your brows furrowed in a hurt expression.
"do ya even know her?"
"..no."
"then why should you care what she says or thinks?"
"because, 'samu, it's not that easy. i can tell myself it doesn't matter and that i shouldn't care but that doesn't make it so. it doesn't rewire my brain to stop caring about what other people think. no matter how hard i try."
he was silent for a moment, contemplating something.
then, he lightly caressed your cheek with the palm of his hand, smiling softly. "i guess i can't change yer mind... but i can remind you that the people who are actually worth yer time won't make some round-about shitty way of telling ya they have a problem with ya."
you smiled warily, though he had to admit he said exactly what you needed to hear. besides that, you noticed you'd definitely chosen the right guy - his acting skills as your boyfriend were superior. your eyes wandered around to the gaze of your fellow peers as some cooed not-so-subtly at osamu's public display of affection.
your gaze returned to his as he eyed you up and down. "ya sure yer alright?"
"positive."
"ya know it's okay not to be fine all the time."
you laughed lightly, "thanks, 'samu. but really, I think I'm okay. i just can't think about it or it'll make me all upset again."
"wanna come over tonight? thankfully i'm makin' dinner and not atsumu," he grinned.
you conservation switched to various other topics as you both walked down the hall before he had to go to volleyball practice.
-
"didn't i tell you what happens to bitches who mess with my girl?" a gruff voice called behind you.
you froze, regretting the fact that you neglected to bring your phone with you during your lunch break and were subsequently now completely alone with some gorilla-faced man who spoke gravelly like he wasn't in high school at all. slowly turning, you cowered, "i-i don't think i did anything wrong.."
immediately his fist slammed against your locker. "obviously you fuckin' did if my girl is tellin' me you've been a fuckin' problem!"
"i-i-i don't even know who she is," you defended, moving your hands to shield your face in fear.
"bullshit."
you screamed as you felt a hand tightly grab your wrist and you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing yourself for the impact of a fist. after a few moments, you opened them, shocked to see osamu standing in front of you, shielding you from the gruff boyfriend.
"get a load of this guy," osamu smiled sardonically, "getting involved in his girlfriend's drama because she can't handle it herself? you must be her hero."
the man grit his teeth hard, winding up for a punch that osamu immediately countered, without breaking a sweat.
"you take that back you fuckin' piece of shit!" he growled, aiming for a blow to osamu's kneecap. "how the fuck does a prick like you even know this stupid bitch anyway." he continued, seemingly adding fuel to the fire.
osamu's eyes widened with a fiery rage, "you don't get to talk like that about my girlfriend." within seconds, the man was pummeled to the ground and osamu's fist connected against his face repeatedly until you pulled osamu away.
as if the situation wasn't already at its worst, that girl came running down the hall. "you BITCH! how dare you do this to my man! i fucking knew you were a rat." she paused for a moment before letting out a shriek of laughter, "oh? what's this? there's no fucking way you managed to get a boyfriend. what, you finally found someone willing to fuck you for a price?" she giggled, "osamu miya, was it? tell me, how much is she paying you to play pretend?"
osamu ground down on his teeth dangerously as he eyed the girl with contempt. "I'll have you know that i asked her out and was lucky enough for her to say yes."
she forced out another laugh, "then you're both pathetic! a match made in heaven."
you willed the tears to stay in your eyes, not wanting to give the girl the power of knowing that she hurt you, that she made you cry. you whispered something even you could barely hear.
"what was that? finally apologizing to me?"
you narrowed your eyes, looking her directly in her own as you raised your voice, "I said 'LEAVE US ALONE!'" you screamed with all you had in you.
she smirked, seemingly only a little fazed by your outburst. "fine, I'll leave. as soon as you prove you guys are actually dating. 'cause, like, there's no way, right babe?!" her boyfriend grunted out a laugh from his position on the floor.
this is the end. you thought. i'm gonna have to confess that i made this whole thing up and then i'm never going to hear the end of it. you sent a worried look to osamu who was already inches from your face. you tried to back away in shock, but his hand found purchase on the small of your back. he pulled you in tightly before taking your chin in between his index and thumb. his eyes conveyed a message you couldn't quite decifer.
yet, the next thing you knew, his lips were on yours. it wasn't at all the sort of chaste or reluctant kiss you were expecting, but one filled with hunger and desire. you returned in equal force, intertwining your fingers in his gray-brown locks. you could've sworn you'd heard a guttural groan as you shifted your leg in between his. when you at last separated, the girl and her boyfriend were gone. it was just the two of you.
osamu looked down at your lips once more before meeting your eyes. "hey."
you laughed breathily, "hey."
"do ya wanna date fer real?"
you answered with another eager kiss.
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rin-fukuroi · 3 months
Text
𝐖𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐌𝐞? [𝐀𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦]
Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.
The originals of my works can be read here
Fandom: Genshin Impact
Pairings: older brother!Alhaitham x fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW, modern AU, incest, loss of virginity, size kink, cockwarming, creampie.
▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. Tommee Profitt feat. Jung Youth - Who's Gonna Stop Me
Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq
Just let me be reborn as the younger sister of this divine man (っ˘ω˘ς )
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art: @eriimyon
You've never even thought about the fact that girls your age should be interested in guys. Every time you heard your friends enthusiastically discussing the looks of your classmates, you felt so far away from it. Your gaze has never clung to men passing by, and your heart has never even been touched by sympathy for anyone. That's how it was until it came to your brother.
«Your brother is so sexy! Does he have a girlfriend?»
Is it true? Perhaps… the only man you've ever looked at has always been him. Since childhood, you have secretly admired the success of your older brother, not missing the opportunity to ask him to pull you up in your studies when he had a free minute. It could hardly be said that Alhaitham enjoyed spending time with you when you were a child. This man is too difficult to understand. This stoically indifferent expression on his face, the cold gazes of emerald eyes and a monotonous low voice are what have accompanied you since birth.
As soon as Alhaitham saw tears welling up in your innocent eyes, he instantly silently left your room, before getting a clear answer who made you cry. You didn't know where he went or what he was doing, but any of your problems were solved the very next day, which gave rise to this feeling of unconditional security when you looked at his tall figure and heard these quiet sighs and banal phrases uttered in a quiet indifferent tone only to dismiss your obsessive questions about what suddenly happened to the classmates who bullied you. A certain modesty of your older brother has planted in your heart the belief that, no matter how distant Alhaitham may seem, he cares about you in his own way and will never allow his little sister to cope with difficulties alone, even if you'll hardly ever be able to hear words of support from him.
And now, ten years later, you still look at Alhaitham with unspoken gratitude and adoration, despite the fact that his presence in your life is barely noticeable. You always sneak a peek into your brother's room when he's not at home, carefully examining the few things he left on the table. Everything that belongs to Alhaitham always arouses your genuine interest, although the entire contents of his room, perhaps, can be classified as essential items and mountains of books filling the shelves of tall cabinets. Every time your fingers slide over the numerous book spines, and your eyes memorize several titles in order to secretly read them. Maybe this way you can get closer to him — that's what you always thought.
But still, is your obsession with him really normal? This question has been in your head since the image of Alhaitham began to pop up in your thoughts more often when you were alone with yourself. Loving your older brother is absolutely normal, isn't it? And remembering how you once saw Alhaitham tired after work, throwing off his shirt and exposing his muscular back and broad shoulders in his room while you were passing by the ajar door is also normal. You only had a moment to capture in your memory the elastic muscles of his chest and the V-shaped line of his abs disappearing behind his lowered trousers, but it was more than enough to keep this image in your thoughts for several weeks.
«Your brother is so sexy...»
Is this the real reason why a blush now sticks to your cheeks when your eyes meet Alhaitham's gaze? Is this the reason why you're touching yourself so obscenely for the first time, replaying over and over in your memory what you probably shouldn't have seen? But you comfort yourself with the thought that men often strip to the waist and there is nothing indecent about it. You've already seen him in this form as a child, but why does it bother you so much now and seem so wrong?
You need to stop this.
You've spent hours watching guys your age, trying to awaken those emotions that should torment a girl's heart when looking at admittedly attractive members of the opposite sex, but you don't feel anything. Just boredom.
You've also never heard of Alhaitham having a relationship with anyone. Of course, if you had asked him a question, he would have replied that he is too busy or that he isn't interested, but then what about you? Are you also not interested in relationships, or is there another reason why you can't keep up a conversation with friends who are so immersed in matters of the heart that you don't understand? The answer seemed so close, somewhere on the surface. You only have to stretch out your hand and you'll see what you are trying so desperately not to notice.
Therefore, now you try not to make noise, sneaking back to Alhaitham's door when you hear him enter his room late at night, probably tired after a hard day's work. You need to look at him again, but your heart is so restless every time you even try to imagine how you start a conversation with him. Since when did it become so difficult for you to communicate with your own brother?
You peek cautiously through the half-open door, noticing Alhaitham lounging in an armchair with a book in his hand. His long fingers cling to his black tie, getting rid of the suffocating pressure on his neck in one light practiced movement. His lips are slightly parted as your brother sighs heavily, unbuttoning the top couple of buttons on his slightly rumpled shirt before leaning back in his chair.
Long eyelashes barely touch the skin of Alhaitham's face when he closes his eyes, combing the unruly strands of silver bangs with his palm. He's really handsome, you can't deny that. But you've seen enough men that you could call beautiful, but just looking at Alhaitham causes a thrill in your chest, the nature of which you are so desperate to understand.
— How long are you going to stand in the doorway? If you need anything, come in.
Your eyes widen with fright, and your muscles seem to turn to stone, not allowing you to move from your place, when you hurriedly shift your gaze from Alhaitham's chest slightly peeking out from under the cotton fabric to the emerald irises looking at you with slight irritation.
— I, uh… I'm sorry, I don't need anything! — you almost take off, ready to run back to your room, when you notice Alhaitham getting up from his chair, approaching your confused figure.
It all happened so fast. You didn't even have time to understand anything, as Alhaitham's big hand wrapped around your shoulder, forcing you to go inside, when you heard the slam of the door behind you, to which your back is now pressed. Your brother's free hand presses into the wooden surface, enclosing you between him and the door, while the fingers of his other hand cling to the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning one by one and exposing the relief of Alhaitham's body right in front of your face.
— Wh-what are you doing?! — you turn away, blunting your gaze to the floor, trying to hide the way your cheeks instantly flushed when the pleasant scent of his perfume hit your nose.
— Huh? Isn't that what you were just looking at?
— I don't…
The words get stuck somewhere deep in your throat when Alhaitham's long fingers wrap around your wrist, guiding your hand to his chest. As soon as the pads touch your brother's skin, this aching pain comes back to your lower abdomen. He's so warm. You can feel the muscles tense under your touch, becoming even harder, you can feel his heart beating steadily, as if absolutely nothing unusual is happening right now. Alhaitham is calm, as always, carefully watching your funny reaction from his height. Your hand trembles in his grip, but your fingers lightly press on the elastic flesh, causing embarrassment to tingle the skin of your face even more.
— Do you think I don't notice the way you look at me? I always assumed that my sister was a diligent good girl, but what do I see now? — Alhaitham leans towards your ear, guiding your palm lower over his prominent abs as his hot breath touches your face. — Now you're just as spoiled as all adults.
His words make your stomach churn with fear. The way the pads of your fingers slide over every bump of his tense stomach, the way his lips are close to your face, the way Alhaitham's breathing becomes more ragged when your hand stops on the belt of his trousers, it seems so wrong, but for some reason you just stay silent, letting him do it to you. You can feel the heat rushing to the bottom of your stomach when Alhaitham guides your fingers to his groin. You've never touched anyone… there before. Even through the dense fabric, the warmth emanating from his dick touches your hand, which unconsciously wraps around the hard bulge, causing your heart to pound wildly, pulsating in your ears.
— H-Haitham, stop it, I don't understand what you want… — the volume of your voice drops to a whisper.
It's so damn hard. Your body heats up treacherously, and moisture begins to accumulate between your clenching thighs. You press against the door, trying to escape at least somewhere from the cage in which Alhaitham imprisoned you, but he sees how your legs are shaking and feels your pulse quicken, quietly grinning at how something your body tells him goes against the words that come unsteadily from your tongue.
— I don't remember teaching you to lie. Didn't you spy on me a few weeks ago because you wanted to? And that's what you came for today.
— No! I would never…
— You're too bad at hiding your desires for a girl who knows better than anyone that I'm observant enough. Can't any of your peers meet your needs, huh?
— How do you…
— I know everything I need to know. I even know you're still a virgin, but you still want me to fuck you. But it's reasonable.
— What are you talking about?! Is it okay to want something like this with own brother? — you pull your hand back, ostentatiously clenching your fingers into a fist and pulling away from Alhaitham's face, almost buried in the curve of your neck. Your brother straightens up, towering over you like a heavy shadow, now looking into your eyes, desperately trying not to break eye contact. What do you want to prove to him if your other hand is now nervously fiddling with the fabric of your nightgown, and your teeth are unconsciously biting your lower lip, trying hard to remain calm even when the fabric of your underwear is soaked with warm moisture?
— Yes, — your heart sank in your chest when you heard such a short and clear answer, uttered with a completely serious expression on your brother's face. — There's no one who knows you better than I do. It makes sense that you want your first time to be with me. Objectively, I think girls your age really find me attractive, so that doesn't raise any questions either. I don't understand why you're so puzzled, Y/N, given the fact that, obviously for both of us, you've wanted this for a long time, which means you've had time to weigh all the pros and cons since you came to me today.
His words sound like this… makes sense, but then why do you feel that your desires are so obscene? Is the problem that he's your brother? But Alhaitham is right, you spent almost every day of your life with him, shared your most intimate things with him, even if he wasn't interested, he was always there for you, and what's strange about the fact that you are... in love with him?
— I… I think I'm just confused… I need to be alone and think about this...
— There's no need for that.
The randomly scattered pieces of the puzzle finally came together in a clear picture. You can feel your brother's soft lips pressing against yours, the warmth of his palm sliding up your thigh, making its way under the fabric of your homemade shorts. And it doesn't seem wrong. It's so good. Finally, the warmth that your friends seemed to be talking about spread in your chest. When a loved one touches you, when he presses his lips to yours for the first time. Your body answered all the questions swarming in your head for you as your arms wrapped around Alhaitham's neck, deepening the kiss. So clumsily, but your tongue meets his, more insistently dominating your mouth. What an indescribable feeling.
It's so hot, it's so hard to breathe, but you want more when you pull your brother closer, and his knee settles so vulgarly between your legs, pressing into the heat of your crotch. You wanted to push Alhaitham away so as not to stain his trousers with the moisture that your shorts must have soaked through, but there was nothing you could do with how damn pleasant this friction feels caused by his knee pushing against your writhing body.
Alhaitham's fingertips hook into the waistband of your shorts, hastily sliding the soft fabric down your thighs until it crumples on the floor under your feet. A moan escapes from your chest, muffled by his lips, when you feel your toes lift off the floor, and your back presses harder against the door of your brother's room while he scoops you up in his arms, forcing you to wrap your legs around his hips. A hard cock presses against your crotch through the fabric separating you from the hot flesh.
It's only when his lips finally leave yours that you realize what's going on. Alhaitham's green eyes seemed to look as clouded as yours. You've never seen him like this before. Although his face still didn't express a single emotion, something had clearly changed. Your brother is looking at you with a desire you've never seen in anyone's eyes. It's so strange, so unusual, but the only thing you know is that you like it. You like to feel desired, you like to feel his dick throbbing with another unobtrusive thrust between your legs spread for him, you like to hold on to Alhaitham's muscular shoulders like this while he hastily unbuttons the belt and zipper of his trousers, then pushing aside the lace fabric of your underwear.
The hot head of the cock slides up your slippery crotch, covering the base with sticky moisture. Even without looking down, you could feel with your own body how impressive Alhaitham's dick is. If it weren't for the intoxicating pleasure caused by the delicious friction of his throbbing erection, you'd probably be terrified even at the thought of him entering you. But there was another good reason for your calmness. You know your brother will never hurt you. Perhaps he was right again, as always. You only want him because no one will take care of you like Alhaitham is.
Your throat is bursting with moans that you are desperately trying to hold back so that your parents on the ground floor won't hear you, and it gets even harder when you feel Alhaitham's cock slowly begin to stretch you, sinking inch by inch into your warm insides.
— You're damn tight, Y/N. I'm even flattered that you saved yourself for me.
— Haitham, stop embarrassing me! — you whisper loudly, barely managing to cover your mouth with your hand when his hips meet your ass in one sharp thrust. It… hurts a little, but how perfectly his cock filled your insides. You can feel the blood pulsing in the veins running along the base of his hard organ while he remains motionless, causing your walls to involuntarily contract.
— Why are you confused by such simple facts? I find such emotions inappropriate when my cock is already inside you.
— Just… move… — you look away, tightening your arms around his neck.
— Hm-m? You got used to it so quickly, it's commendable, — you feel Alhaitham's dick pushing even harder into your cervix, which seemed impossible when he pressed his hips even tighter against yours.
It's so unusual to feel him so deep inside. His cock is so huge that it feels like he's forced all the organs in your body to make room. But it's so damn little. Your walls spasm around the hard flesh over and over again, wanting to feel more stimulation, which Alhaitham deprives you of just watching you squirm in his arms, and tears come to your eyes.
— Haitham! — you scream, digging your nails into the skin of the back of his head, when footsteps begin to be heard approaching the door.
— Y/N! Y/N, are you at your brother's?
Shit. As soon as you hear your mother's voice, your stomach twists painfully, and you freeze, holding your breath, casting a frightened look at Alhaitham.
The corners of your brother's lips turn up in a slight smile as he brings his index finger to his lips, motioning for you to be quiet.
«What the hell is that supposed to mean?!»
— Yes, mom, she's in my room.
You exhale with relief, seeming to understand what he meant, but your calm is instantly disrupted when Alhaitham's cock abruptly bursts out of your insides, then stretching and filling you to the limit again. Your eyes widen in mute shock as you press your palm tightly to your mouth, trying to swallow any sound that intends to escape from your throat. Your back is pressed against the door over and over again, the only barrier between the dirty sight that is happening in your brother's room from the eyes of an unsuspecting mother, while Alhaitham's hips slam into your ass with a soft thud at a rough impatient pace.
— Oh, then I'll come to you now!
Your brother is silent, not stopping for a second, further terrifying your poor pounding heart. You tremble, shaking your head in panic, trying to convey to Alhaitham without words what he himself should understand, but for some reason his lips stretch into an even wider smile when one of his palms moves to your crotch, and his fingers press on your clitoris, sending a treacherous wave through your body pleasure.
The moment it took your mother to get to the door seemed to last forever, while your lower abdomen was bursting with delicious spasms that you couldn't resist. Your back arches and your hips shake as the knot in your stomach unties. This orgasm isn't comparable to the ones you brought yourself to on your own. The heat settling in every cell of your body is so intoxicating that it seems as if you are about to lose consciousness. The walls of your vagina clenched so tightly around Alhaitham's cock, still not slowing down, that even he couldn't restrain the quiet moan that escaped from his lips while his fingers continued to massage the sensitive bundle of nerves, only prolonging this magical feeling that causes addiction.
The handle twitches, and you feel a slight pressure from the other side of the door.
— Haitham? Is your door closed?
Your mother's worried voice dispels the fog that has enveloped your consciousness.
— I'll be down in a minute, mom! Brother, n-gh… Helps me with the preparation for the test, — you needed all the self-control you had left so that at least your voice didn't tremble, sounding confident enough without arousing suspicion.
— Are you all right? You sound kind of upset...
— Yes, it's all right! Just wait for me downstairs!
It's unbearable. You are so sensitive, but your brother's cock continues to persistently penetrate you, touching all the right points in your insides to make you feel that heady heat rushing to the bottom of your stomach again, even when his hand, covered with your moisture, returns to your thigh. You can hear your mother muttering to herself before you hear soft, retreating footsteps in the hallway.
— What the fuck, Haitham?! — you snap back, weakly slapping your brother, who is apparently amused by your outburst, on the shoulders.
— You did a great job. It would be awkward if she insisted on coming in.
— Awkward?! D-damn it! — you no longer hold back your moans, desperately biting your lower lip to somehow muffle your sounds, when your hands cling to Alhaitham's neck again, gaining an even more careless and rude pace.
The door knocks softly under the pressure of erratic thrusts. Your brother's cock seemed to get even bigger and harder, stretching your tight walls almost painfully. For the first time, the soft sounds of Alhaitham's hoarse moans cut into your ears, which sound even more beautiful than you could have imagined in your dirtiest fantasies. His lips are open, and the muscles of his forearms are so sexually tense when he literally hammers you into the door, chasing his own orgasm. You don't know how it should feel, but you're sure that he's as close as you are, teetering on the edge of a high that seems to drive you crazy.
A second orgasm hits your poor body just when you feel something warm and sticky spreading in your insides, and Alhaitham's hips are pressed tightly against your ass, remaining almost motionless. He rests his head on your shoulder, exhaling heavily from his lungs as you both try to relive the intense pleasure spreading somewhere under your skin.
You barely come to your senses when you feel your brother's cock leaving your insides, and he gently lowers you to the floor, barely standing on your feet and instantly grabbing his arm to keep from losing your balance. Sticky drops of semen trickle down the inside of your thighs, and you watch in fascination as they settle on the floor, gradually coming out of a state of intoxication and digesting what just happened.
— So you need help with the test? — Alhaitham's voice sounds as cold and indifferent as usual again, as if nothing unusual has happened right now, as he takes off his shirt and slides his trousers down his muscular, seductive thighs. You give an awkward glance at his cock as he walks past, heading to the closet to change into his home clothes. How did he fit in you anyway…
— Very funny… — you adjust your underwear, awkwardly trying to pick up the cream drops from your feet before you see your brother handing you a napkin. — Thanks.
Alhaitham silently turns away, pulling a T-shirt over his magnificent body, and you are mesmerized by watching him now at a close distance, and not hiding behind the door of his room.
— Listen… You're going to move away from here, aren't you? Well, someday.
— Huh? Why do you ask? — your brother turns around, looking at you through slightly narrowed eyelids. — Yes. I've only stayed in this house to keep an eye on you sometimes, but I guess my help won't be needed anymore.
— Take me with you! — you grab the soft fabric of his T-shirt, looking up at Alhaitham with a pleading look.
— Ho-oh, I didn't think you didn't like to be here so much, — your brother crosses his arms over his chest, taking in your petite figure with an appraising glance. — What if I ever get into a relationship?
You're sulking, hastily pulling your hand away, about to just leave, when Alhaitham's big palm touches your jaw, pulling your face down for a kiss. Now your beloved brother's lips are touching yours not with the same desire that they touched the first time. Is he kissing you now… tenderly?
As soon as his lips leave yours, you feel your face turn red again when your gaze meets his cold aquamarine eyes.
— If that's what you want, I don't mind.
375 notes · View notes
ameliora-j · 5 months
Note
Therapist!steddie x reader smut? (Naive reader) you can choose a storyline :)
𐐪𐑂 it’s twisted tuesday! send in ur requests ᵕ̈
content: smut, bully!eddie, therapist!steve, power imbalance, cnc, unprotected piv, size kink, loss of virginity, innocent!reader, naive!reader, degradation, pussy spanking, orgasm control, DARK CONTENT, THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG MDNI
“do you think that you’re learning, yn?” steve asks. “to forgive eddie, i mean.” he clarifies.
“yes, dr. harrington” you nod, smiling shyly. “i believe that i’ve forgiven him.” you say, looking to the curly-haired man who has a permanent smirk playing on his lips.
“alright then… we’ve got one more test of trust, and then we’ll be done with these forgiveness lessons” he smiles. “eddie, go and sit on the couch, please” he instructs. eddie follows orders quickly, sitting on the couch with his legs spread wide. “remove your panties, yn” steve orders.
you stand from the chair, shimmying your panties down your legs beneath your skirt as you hear eddie working his belt buckle. “today, i want you to sit on his cock. and let him use you as he pleases, okay?” dr. harrington smiles.
“okay” you nod, tucking your hair behind your ear. you turn and see eddie stroking his thick cock. he’s already leaking precum, and the tip is red and angry. you walk over to him, setting your knee on the couch as you move to straddle him.
“face me” steve corrects your positioning. you’re already nodding once more and turning around. eddie holds his cock in his right hand, grabbing your hip with his left to held guide you down on the thick shaft.
you whine as you sit slowly, squirming in slight discomfort at the burning stretch. “eddie…” you gasp around a soft moan as he’s fully bottomed out.
“oh fuck baby…” he groans, his head falling back against the couch. “your little cunt is so tight… are you a virgin, princess?” he teases, reaching to rub gently at your swollen little clit.
“yeah…” you mewl, nodding as your hips buck up against his hand. eddie and steve chuckle as the former kisses across your shoulder.
“that’s too bad…” eddie pouts. “cus ‘m not gonna be gentle” he growls. he takes your hips in a strong hold, holding you upright on his cock and forcing you to be still. “just gonna sit here and use you like my own little fleshlight… and you’re gonna take it like a good girl” he grunts.
“good girl” you moan dumbly as eddie begins moving you on his cock. true to his word, he uses you just like a fleshlight. his hands are gripping your hips tightly, doing all the work as he uses your pussy to massage his dick to an orgasm.
“you’re so fucking tight… perfect for this” he groans, his hips bucking up as he slams you down on his cock. you’re unable to help the loud cacophony of moans spilling over your lips as his cock pounds your gspot. “the perfect slut to use like a toy… i feel you clenching around me bitch” he grunts, slapping your clit roughly. “don’t you dare cum before me.”
“yes, sir!” you shriek, clenching tighter in an attempt to hold off your orgasm. it’s not long before eddie is moaning louder, lifting you on and off of his cock faster.
you feel the muscle twitching inside your cunt, beginning to leak precum as eddie lets out a pretty whine. “i’m gonna cum baby” he breathes in your ear, wrapping a hand around your throat as he pistons his hips into you. “gonna fill this slutty cunt up with my babies. take your panties home and make you leave here dripping with me” he growls.
“please…” you whimper softly, searching for something to hold onto as your body begins to shake with pleasure. “i need to… please…” you whine dumbly as you finally settle on gripping his forearm.
“cum, bitch” he growls, using his free hand to slap your clit once more. “soak my cock while i pump you full of my babies” he growls, fucking you impossibly harder.
you’re unable to stop your screams, tears falling down your face as your hips buck erratically as you squirt on him. eddie’s groans can be heard behind you as he holds you still, fucking you through your orgasm until he presses up against your cervix, spraying his cum directly into your awaiting womb.
you whine softly as you fall back against his chest lazily. “thank you, eddie…” you whisper softly.
“thank you, my little toy” he taunts, patting your clit roughly a few times.
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