Trained gymnast and martial artist [Full Name] just wanted a break from it all. Thirteen years old and overworked, he finds himself at his wits end when he discovers myths aren’t all that mythical. Even better, one of those (totally not) mythical figures is his father.
Which one? He doesn’t know, and he’s not all that determined to find out. Too bad for him, nobody asked what he wants.
Percy Jackson and The Olympians x Male Reader
(Title Inspired by but otherwise not related to Bjork's Venus As A Boy)
WARNINGS: Canonical Violence, Parental Neglect, Possible Abuse
STATUS: ONGOING
WORD COUNT: 424.8k~ words
UPDATE SCHEDULE: Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays
NOTES: Comment comment comment. That's the way to get more chapters. I really don't care about likes or reblogs. they're appreciated but with the amount of work I go through, and the fact that on update day I release at least three chapters, it's insane I can't get any meaningful comments. See here for official notice.
DISCLAIMER: I'm not trying to replace Percy as the MC, I'm just doing a reader insert in the pjo series, which means sometimes Percy takes the focus, but I add details that reference how [Name] changes the canon even in Percy's Perspective
Chapter Four: Percy & Annabeth Fight Each Other. I Fight The Echidna
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Note: if there is not at least one comment on either chapter two, three or four. I will not be uploading the rest until there is.
Percy POV
We spent two days on the Amtrak train, heading west through hills, over rivers, past amber waves of grain.
We weren’t attacked once, but I didn’t relax. I felt that we were traveling around in a display case, being watched from above and maybe from below, that something was waiting for the right opportunity.
I tried to keep a low profile because my name and picture were splattered over the front pages of several East Coast newspapers. The Trenton RegisterNews showed a photo taken by a tourist as I got off the Greyhound bus. I had a wild look in my eyes. My sword was a metallic blur in my hands. It might’ve been a baseball bat or a lacrosse stick.
The picture’s caption read:
Twelve-year-old Percy Jackson, wanted for questioning in the Long Island disappearance of his mother two weeks ago, is shown here fleeing from the bus where he accosted several elderly female passengers. The bus exploded on an east New Jersey roadside shortly after Jackson fled the scene. Based on eyewitness accounts, police believe the boy may be traveling with two teenage accomplices. His stepfather, Gabe Ugliano, has offered a cash reward for information leading to his capture.
“Don’t worry,” Annabeth told me. “Mortal police could never find us.” But she didn’t sound so sure.
[Name] must’ve seen the hesitation on my face becauseI felt a knuckle tap on my shoulder and when I went to look he winked before waving a hand in front of his face.
“Maybe ‘the mist’ will hide you or whatever”
I nodded but I wasn’t convinced
“Besides” he said “nobody in Jersey gives a rat’s A R S E about Trenton anyway. Who is reading Trenton Register News”
I decided I didn’t know enough about New Jersey to argue.
The rest of the day I spent alternately pacing the length of the train (because I had a really hard time sitting still) or looking out the windows.
Our reward money for returning Gladiola the poodle had only been enough to purchase tickets as far as Denver. We couldn’t get berths in the sleeper car, so we dozed in our seats. My neck got stiff. I tried not to drool in my sleep, since Annabeth was sitting right next to me.
I couldn’t quite place whether [Name] was asleep or not. Sometimes he came out of his shell and there was a charismatic, funny and smart guy. And other times, there was this, well..wall.
Grover kept snoring and bleating and waking me up. Once, he shuffled around and his fake foot fell off. Annabeth and I had to stick it back on before any of the other passengers noticed.
“So,” Annabeth asked me, once we’d gotten Grover’s sneaker readjusted. “Who wants your help?”
“What do you mean?”
“When you were asleep just now, you mumbled, ‘I won’t help you.’ Who were you dreaming about?”
I was reluctant to say anything. It was the second time I’d dreamed about the evil voice from the pit. But it bothered me so much I finally told her.
Annabeth was quiet for a long time. “That doesn’t sound like Hades. He always appears on a black throne, and he never laughs.”
“He offered my mother in trade. Who else could do that?”
“I guess…if he meant, ‘Help me rise from the Underworld.’ If he wants war with the Olympians. But why ask you to bring him the master bolt if he already has it?”
“Something bad is gonna happen” [Name] said eerily
Annabeth shot him a glare. “Don’t joke about that. You could jinx us”
“I’ll knock on as much wood as you want but we both know it’s not Hades.” He bit back “I mean he has to be involved somehow because of the…kindly ones as you call them but the rest of it…”
I shook my head, wishing I knew the answer. I thought about what Grover had told me, that the Furies on the bus seemed to have been looking for something.
Where is it? Where?
Maybe Grover sensed my emotions. He snorted in his sleep, muttered something about vegetables, and turned his head.
Annabeth readjusted his cap so it covered his horns. “Percy, you can’t barter with Hades. You know that, right? He’s deceitful, heartless, and greedy. I don’t care if his Kindly Ones weren’t as aggressive this time—”
“This time?” I asked. “You mean you’ve run into them before?”
Her hand crept up to her necklace. She fingered a glazed white bead painted with the image of a pine tree, one of her clay end-of-summer tokens. “Let’s just say I’ve got no love for the Lord of the Dead. You can’t be tempted to make a deal for your mom.”
“What would you do if it was your dad?”
“That’s easy,” she said. “I’d leave him to rot.”
“You’re not serious?”
Annabeth’s gray eyes fixed on me. She wore the same expression she’d worn in the woods at camp, the moment she drew her sword against the hellhound.
“My dad’s resented me since the day I was born, Percy,” she said. “He never wanted a baby. When he got me, he asked Athena to take me back and raise me on Olympus because he was too busy with his work. She wasn’t happy about that. She told him heroes had to be raised by their mortal parent.”
“But how…I mean, I guess you weren’t born in a hospital.…”
“I appeared on my father’s doorstep, in a golden cradle, carried down from Olympus by Zephyr the West Wind. You’d think my dad would remember that as a miracle, right? Like, maybe he’d take some digital photos or something. But he always talked about my arrival as if it were the most inconvenient thing that had ever happened to him. When I was five he got married and totally forgot about Athena. He got a ‘regular’ mortal wife, and had two ‘regular’ mortal kids, and tried to pretend I didn’t exist.”
I stared out the train window. The lights of a sleeping town were drifting by. I wanted to make Annabeth feel better, but I didn’t know how.
“My mom married a really awful guy,” I told her. “Grover said she did it to protect me, to hide me in the scent of a human family. Maybe that’s what your dad was thinking.”
Annabeth kept worrying at her necklace. She was pinching the gold college ring that hung with the beads. It occurred to me that the ring must be her father’s. I wondered why she wore it if she hated him so much.
“He doesn’t care about me,” she said. “His wife—my stepmom—treated me like a freak. She wouldn’t let me play with her children. My dad went along with her. Whenever something dangerous happened—you know, something with monsters—they would both look at me resentfully, like, ‘How dare you put our family at risk.’ Finally, I took the hint. I wasn’t wanted. I ran away.”
“How old were you?”
“Same age as when I started camp. Seven.”
“But…you couldn’t have gotten all the way to Half-Blood Hill by yourself.”
“Not alone, no. Athena watched over me, guided me toward help. I made a couple of unexpected friends who took care of me, for a short time, anyway.”
I wanted to ask what happened, but Annabeth seemed lost in sad memories. So I listened to the sound of Grover snoring and gazed out the train windows as the dark fields of Ohio raced by.
“What about you [Name]?” I asked the sleeping boy
“I don’t know. I didn’t exactly have the easiest childhood” he muttered with his eyes still closed
“Oh. Do you… do you want to talk about it?”
He gave me a strained smile “maybe later”
Toward the end of our second day on the train, June 13, eight days before the summer solstice, we passed through some golden hills and over the Mississippi River into St. Louis.
Annabeth craned her neck to see the Gateway Arch, which looked to me like a huge shopping bag handle stuck on the city.
“I want to do that,” she sighed.
“What?” I asked.
“Build something like that.” Annabeth said “You ever see the Parthenon, Percy?”
“Only in pictures.”
“Someday, I’m going to see it in person. I’m going to build the greatest monument to the gods, ever. Something that’ll last a thousand years.”
I laughed. “You? An architect?”
I don’t know why, but I found it funny. Just the idea of Annabeth trying to sit quietly and draw all day.
Her cheeks flushed. “Yes, an architect. Athena expects her children to create things, not just tear them down, like a certain god of earthquakes I could mention.”
I watched the churning brown water of the Mississippi below.
“Sorry,” Annabeth said. “That was mean.”
“Can’t we work together a little?” I pleaded. “I mean, didn’t Athena and Poseidon ever cooperate?”
Annabeth had to think about it. “I guess…the chariot,” she said tentatively. “My mom invented it, but Poseidon created horses out of the crests of waves. So they had to work together to make it complete.”
“Then we can cooperate, too. Right?”
We rode into the city, Annabeth watching as the Arch disappeared behind a hotel. “I suppose,” she said at last.
[Name] stopped pretending to be looking out the window so studiously. Actually he dropped any pretense that he wasn’t eavesdropping.
“Okay, an architect I get. Especially after the whole Athena explanation thing. But the parthenon? It’s genius architecture, absolutely but it’s a bit bland. Why not something baroque? Now the christians got something right with the later renaissance and baroque art! Bring Extravagance to the states! A version of St. Peter’s Basilica dedicated to Athena? The dome of les invalides dedicated to Apollo? It could quite literally be another renaissance for Greek Culture”
Annabeth looked a mixture of insulted and really impressed. She opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by the sound of the train pulling into a station downtown. The intercom told us we’d have a three-hour layover before departing for Denver.
Grover stretched. Before he was even fully awake, he said, “Food.”
“Come on, goat boy,” Annabeth said. “Sightseeing.”
“Sightseeing?”
“The Gateway Arch,” she said. “This may be my only chance to ride to the top. Are you coming or not?”
“I’m in” [Name] said “As long as we don’t argue about architecture the WHOLE time. I’m not as much interested in architecture as much as the flamboyance and distinctive nature of art”
Annabeth rolled her eyes but there was a hint of a smile on her lips.
Grover and I exchanged looks. I wanted to say no, but I figured that if Annabeth was going, we couldn’t very well let them go off on their own with exactly one knife between the two.
Grover shrugged. “As long as there’s a snack bar without monsters.”
The Arch was about a mile from the train station. Late in the day the lines to get in weren’t that long. We threaded our way through the underground museum, looking at covered wagons and other junk from the 1800s. It wasn’t all that thrilling, but Annabeth kept telling us interesting facts about how the Arch was built, and Grover kept passing me jelly beans, so I was okay.
I kept looking around, though, at the other people in line. “You smell anything?” I murmured to Grover.
He took his nose out of the jelly-bean bag long enough to sniff. “Underground,” he said distastefully. “Underground air always smells like monsters. Probably doesn’t mean anything.”
But something felt wrong to me. I had a feeling we shouldn’t be here. “Guys,” I said. “You know the gods’ symbols of power?”
Annabeth had been in the middle of reading about the construction equipment used to build the Arch, but she looked over. “Yeah?”
“Well, Hade—”
Grover cleared his throat. “We’re in a public place…You mean, our friend downstairs?”
“Lame” [Name] coughed into his fist
“Um, right,” I said. “Our friend way downstairs. Doesn’t he have a hat like Annabeth’s?”
“You mean the Helm of Darkness,” Annabeth said. “Yeah, that’s his symbol of power. I saw it next to his seat during the winter solstice council meeting.”
“He was there?” I asked. She nodded. “It’s the only time he’s allowed to visit Olympus—the darkest day of the year. But his helm is a lot more powerful than my invisibility hat, if what I’ve heard is true.…”
“It allows him to become darkness,” Grover confirmed. “He can melt into shadow or pass through walls. He can’t be touched, or seen, or heard. And he can radiate fear so intense it can drive you insane or stop your heart. Why do you think all rational creatures fear the dark?”
“But then…how do we know he’s not here right now, watching us?” I asked.
Annabeth and Grover exchanged looks. “We don’t,” Grover said.
“He’s not” [Name] rolled his eyes. He does that a lot when Grover says something ridiculous out of fear. Or when I say anything especially stupid. Normal stupid gets an amused shake of his head.
“Thanks, that makes me feel a lot better,” I said to Grover. “Got any blue jelly beans left?”
I’d almost mastered my jumpy nerves when I saw the tiny little elevator car we were going to ride to the top of the Arch, and I knew I was in trouble. I hate confined places. They make me nuts.
We got shoehorned into the car with this big fat lady and her dog, a Chihuahua with a rhinestone collar. I figured maybe the dog was a seeing-eye Chihuahua, because none of the guards said a word about it.
We started going up, inside the Arch. I’d never been in an elevator that went in a curve, and my stomach wasn’t too happy about it.
“No parents?” the fat lady asked us.
She had beady eyes; pointy, coffee-stained teeth; a floppy denim hat, and a denim dress that bulged so much, she looked like a blue-jean blimp.
“They’re below,” Annabeth told her. “Scared of heights.”
“Now that’s how you lie” [Name] mouthed to me.
I nudged him in the shoulder
“Oh, the poor darlings.”
The Chihuahua growled. The woman said, “Now, now, sonny. Behave.”
The dog had beady eyes like its owner, intelligent and vicious. I said, “Sonny. Is that his name?”
“No,” the lady told me. She smiled, as if that cleared everything up.
At the top of the Arch, the observation deck reminded me of a tin can with carpeting. Rows of tiny windows looked out over the city on one side and the river on the other. The view was okay, but if there’s anything I like less than a confined space, it’s a confined space six hundred feet in the air. I was ready to go pretty quick.
I thought [Name] was feeling similarly because his teeth were clenched and his fists were clenched around the straps of his backpack. He looked straight ahead and I tried to catch his eye to ask if he was okay but he only glanced at me and then his eyes flickered to the old lady before his gaze returned to the horizon.
Annabeth kept talking about structural supports, and how she would’ve made the windows bigger, and designed a see-through floor. She probably could’ve stayed up there for hours, but luckily for me the park ranger announced that the observation deck would be closing in a few minutes.
[Name] and I steered Grover and Annabeth toward the exit, loaded them into the elevator, and I was about to get in myself when I realized there were already two other tourists inside. No room for us.
The park ranger said, “Next car, sirs”
“We’ll get out,” Annabeth said. “We’ll wait with you.”
But that was going to mess everybody up and take even more time, so I said, “Naw, it’s okay. We’ll see you guys at the bottom.”
Grover and Annabeth both looked nervous, but they let the elevator door slide shut. Their car disappeared down the ramp.
Now the only people left on the observation deck were me, [Name] a little boy with his parents, the park ranger, and the fat lady with her Chihuahua.
I smiled uneasily at the fat lady.
She smiled back, her forked tongue flickering between her teeth.
Wait a minute.
Forked tongue? Before I could decide if I’d really seen that, her Chihuahua jumped down and started yapping at me. [Name] grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back.
“Now, now, sonny,” the lady said. “Does this look like a good time? We have all these nice people here.”
“Doggie!” said the little boy. “Look, a doggie!”
“Very much NOT a doggie”
I sent [Name] a confused look but the boy's parents seemed to listen to [Name] and pulled their son back.
The Chihuahua bared his teeth at me, foam dripping from his black lips.
“Well, son,” the fat lady sighed. “If you insist.”
Ice started forming in my stomach. “Um, did you just call that Chihuahua your son?”
“Chimera, dear,” the fat lady corrected. “Not a Chihuahua. It’s an easy mistake to make.”
She rolled up her denim sleeves, revealing that the skin of her arms was scaly and green. When she smiled, I saw that her teeth were fangs. The pupils of her eyes were sideways slits, like a reptile’s.
The Chihuahua barked louder, and with each bark, it grew. First to the size of a Doberman, then to a lion. The bark became a roar.
The little boy screamed. His parents pulled him back toward the exit, straight into the park ranger, who stood, paralyzed, gaping at the monster.
The Chimera was now so tall its back rubbed against the roof. It had the head of a lion with a blood-caked mane, the body and hooves of a giant goat, and a serpent for a tail, a ten-foot-long diamondback growing right out of its shaggy behind. The rhinestone dog collar still hung around its neck, and the plate-sized dog tag was now easy to read: CHIMERA—RABID, FIRE-BREATHING, POISONOUS—IF FOUND, PLEASE CALL TARTARUS—EXT. 954.
I realized I hadn’t even uncapped my sword. My hands were numb. I was ten feet away from the Chimera’s bloody maw, and I knew that as soon as I moved, the creature would lunge.
The snake lady made a hissing noise that might’ve been laughter. “Be honored, Percy Jackson. Lord Zeus rarely allows me to test a hero with one of my brood. For I am the Mother of Monsters, the terrible Echidna!”
I stared at her. All I could think to say was: “Isn’t that a kind of anteater?”
She howled, her reptilian face turning brown and green with rage. “I hate it when people say that! I hate Australia! Naming that ridiculous animal after me. For that, Percy Jackson, my son shall destroy you!”
The Chimera charged, its lion teeth gnashing. I managed to leap aside and dodge the bite.
I ended up next to the family and the park ranger, who were all screaming now, trying to pry open the emergency exit doors.
I couldn’t let them get hurt. I uncapped my sword, ran to the other side of the deck, and yelled, “Hey, Chihuahua!”
The Chimera turned faster than I would’ve thought possible.
Before I could swing my sword, it opened its mouth, emitting a stench like the world’s largest barbecue pit, and shot a column of flame straight at me.
I dove through the explosion. The carpet burst into flames; the heat was so intense, it nearly seared off my eyebrows.
Where I had been standing a moment before was a ragged hole in the side of the Arch, with melted metal steaming around the edges.
Great, I thought. We just blowtorched a national monument.
Riptide was now a shining bronze blade in my hands, and as the Chimera turned, I slashed at its neck.
That was my fatal mistake. The blade sparked harmlessly off the dog collar. I tried to regain my balance, but I was so worried about defending myself against the fiery lion’s mouth, I completely forgot about the serpent tail until it whipped around and sank its fangs into my calf.
My whole leg was on fire. I tried to jab Riptide into the Chimera’s mouth, but the serpent tail wrapped around my ankles and pulled me off balance, and my blade flew out of my hand, spinning out of the hole in the Arch and down toward the Mississippi River.
I managed to get to my feet, but I knew I had lost. I was weaponless. I could feel deadly poison racing up to my chest. I remembered Chiron saying that Anaklusmos would always return to me, but there was no pen in my pocket. Maybe it had fallen too far away. Maybe it only returned when it was in pen form. I didn’t know, and I wasn’t going to live long enough to figure it out.
I backed into the hole in the wall. The Chimera advanced, growling, smoke curling from its lips. The snake lady, Echidna, cackled. “They don’t make heroes like they used to, eh, son?”
The monster growled. It seemed in no hurry to finish me off now that I was beaten.
I glanced at the park ranger and the family. The little boy was hiding behind his father’s legs. I had to protect these people. I couldn’t just…die. I tried to think, but my whole body was on fire. My head felt dizzy. I had no sword. I was facing a massive, fire-breathing monster and its mother. And I was scared.
There was no place else to go, so I stepped to the edge of the hole. Far, far below, the river glittered. If I died, would the monsters go away? Would they leave the humans alone?
“If you are the son of Poseidon,” Echidna hissed, “you would not fear water. Jump, Percy Jackson. Show me that water will not harm you. Jump and retrieve your sword. Prove your bloodline.”
Yeah, right, I thought. I’d read somewhere that jumping into water from a couple of stories up was like jumping onto solid asphalt. From here, I’d splatter on impact.
The Chimera’s mouth glowed red, heating up for another blast. “You have no faith,” Echidna told me. “You do not trust the gods. I cannot blame you, little coward. Better you die now. The gods are faithless. The poison is in your heart.”
She was right: I was dying. I could feel my breath slowing down. Nobody could save me, not even the gods.
I backed up and looked down at the water. I remembered the warm glow of my father’s smile when I was a baby. He must have seen me. He must have visited me when I was in my cradle.
I remembered the swirling green trident that had appeared above my head the night of capture the flag, when Poseidon had claimed me as his son.
But this wasn’t the sea. This was the Mississippi, dead center of the USA. There was no Sea God here.
“Die, faithless one,” Echidna rasped, and the Chimera sent a column of flame toward my face.
“Father, help me,” I prayed.
Before I could even think to turn to jump I felt two hands on my shoulders and then–
I was falling.
[Name] POV
The Echidna seemed actually surprised to see Percy fall. I think he might’ve actually jumped himself but I didn’t really feel like waiting to see if the hesitation would kill him.
The Echidna turned in my direction and I froze. I don’t know how, but it was like she couldn’t see me.
“Dad, if you’re out there. I could really use some help.” I prayed. There was a sudden burst of wind and a smell of fresh fruit. My bag got heavier. I slowly and carefully slid my backpack off of my back and quietly thanked the gods I didn’t have to reach in the velcro pouch to get whatever the gift was.
Once I had it in my hand I adjusted my grip on the release of my weapon, a staff. My eyes blew wide and confident. Using my other hand I grabbed a rock from the rubble of Percy’s fight with the chimera and threw it in the opposite direction.
The Echidna whipped her head around and I used the opportunity to plant my staff in the ground and drop kicked her, using my grip on the staff to swing my body upward away from the jaws of the chimera.
“I usually bet on losing dogs” I said as I used the momentum to drive my heels into the eyes of the lion. “But in a fight? I always bet on me.”
The chimera let out a shrill cry and rolled away a few feet. I squared my stance and adjusted my grip on my staff.
Okay I thought to myself. It’s gonna launch itself at me again and then try and bite me with the tail
“Get him sonny,” The Echidna called out.
I risked a glance at her to see blood leaking from her temple but she otherwise looked fine. I turned back to the chimera just in time to slide under its attack but the tail struck at me slightly faster than I anticipated. The serpent’s fangs clasped over the staff in the small space between both my hands. It was much stronger than me, my feet were dragging as I was pulled closer to it. Widening my stance, I gripped the staff firmly and spun.
I wasn’t strong enough to rip the tail off, and I doubt I’d ever be honestly, so I focused on twisting it up until it couldn’t breathe. The serpent let go of the staff purely by instinct and I lifted my leg up above my head and brought my heel down on the head of the snake. Then I used it as a launching pad to get above the chimera.
Once in the air, I shifted my grip on the staff towards the middle when I heard a faint whisper. “Not yet…”
I waited.
“Now!”
I twisted my wrists inward revealing a hidden 7.5 inch blade at the tip. Now even Echidna looked scared. I winked at her and looked down at the chimera and stuck the blade into the crown of the goat’s head. It roared. I stood on the horns, pulled the staff out of its head and shoved the blade through the Lion’s head.
The Echidna roared in anger and turned to charge toward me. I was at my limit so I cocked my arm back and launched the staff like a spear. It went right through her, her body dissolving into gold mist around the staff.
“Another one bites the dust” I sighed. Then I looked around and realized I killed my first and second monsters back to back and all on my own “Hell yeah”
I covered my mouth and looked at the parents of the little boy from earlier. Sorry I mouthed. Then grabbed my bag and staff before catching the elevator back down. There I ran into Annabeth Percy and Grover all looking up at the arch worriedly.
“Yo.”
Note: if there is not at least one comment on either chapter two, three or four. I will not be uploading the rest until there is.
The bartender slid the drink across the counter without looking up—his attention glued to the hockey game flickering on the grainy TV above the shelves of cheap whiskey. A glass of something amber, mostly ice. The guy who'd ordered it hadn't said a word, just tapped the bar twice with scarred knuckles. Now he sat at the corner stool, shoulders hunched like he was carrying something too heavy to name.
"Rough night?" the bartender finally muttered, mostly out of obligation.
The stranger lifted his head just enough for the dim neon to catch the edge of his jaw—sharp, shadowed. His scent hit the air before he did: alpha, but restrained, coiled tight. Like a breath held too long. "You could say that," he said, voice gravel-low. His fingers tightened around the glass.
Across the room, the door swung open. A draft of cold air, then something warmer—another alpha, broader, sunlight-and-steel scent cutting through the stale beer. The first man didn't turn, but his shoulders tensed. "Took you long enough," he muttered. The newcomer slid onto the stool beside him, elbow brushing his sleeve. "Had a situation," Clark said, like that explained everything. Bruce's mouth twitched. Neither of them mentioned the third scent clinging to their clothes—sweet, fevered, theirs.
The bartender wisely retreated. Clark's thumb traced the rim of Bruce's untouched drink. "He's burning up," he said quietly. Bruce exhaled through his nose, the image flashing behind his eyelids: y/n spread across their sheets, sweat-damp and trembling, begging without words. His glass cracked under his grip. "I know."
Clark's hand covered his, steadying. "We shouldn't leave him waiting." The subtext vibrated between them—how long they'd waited too, restraining themselves, letting y/n adjust to the bond. Bruce stood abruptly, bills slapped on the counter. The hockey game buzzed static as Clark followed him out, their strides syncing in the alley's shadows.
Three blocks away, the penthouse windows glowed gold. Inside, the air hummed with need. Bruce inhaled sharply at the threshold; Clark's fingers dug into his waist. "Last chance to go slow," Clark murmured, but Bruce was already moving forward, drawn like a tide to the muffled whimper echoing down the hall.
They found him tangled in silk sheets, pupils blown wide. Y/n's scent—honey and salt—flooded the room as he arched off the mattress, fingers clawing at his own thighs. His gaze locked onto them, desperate. "Finally," he gasped, throat raw. Clark made a wounded noise, stripping off his jacket in one fluid motion while Bruce knelt on the bed, caging y/n's trembling body beneath him.
Bruce's lips brushed the omega's pulse point, tasting desperation. "Tell us what you need." The demand was rough, barely controlled. Y/n sobbed, hips jerking up. "Everything," he choked out—and Clark was there, pressing a broad palm against his bare stomach, grounding him. "We've got you," Clark promised, voice thick with want. "We'll give you everything."
Bruce's teeth grazed y/n's throat as Clark's hands mapped the omega's heated skin—slow, reverent, claiming. The bed creaked under shifting weight. Somewhere, a zipper hissed open. Y/n keened, thighs falling open wider. "Please," he begged, voice breaking on the syllable, and the alphas answered in unison: a growl, a kiss, the first searing press of skin against skin.
Clark's mouth found the flush blooming across y/n's chest, tongue tracing the arch of a collarbone. Bruce pinned one of y/n's wrists with effortless strength, murmuring filth against his ear—how he'd looked earlier, writhing alone; how much tighter he'd feel when they were inside him. Y/n shuddered violently, slick soaking the sheets beneath him. The scent of it punched through the room, heady and thick, and Bruce's restraint snapped.
Their coordination was seamless—Clark lifting y/n's hips while Bruce pressed in from behind, both of them groaning at the molten heat that welcomed them. Y/n's back arched like a bowstring, a broken cry tearing from his throat as they filled him completely. "God, you take us so well," Clark gritted out, fingers bruising on y/n's waist as Bruce began to move, each thrust perfectly synchronized with Clark's.
The omega sobbed, overwhelmed—every nerve alight, every inch of skin worshipped, their scents twining together in the sweat-slick air. Bruce's hand tangled in y/n's hair, tilting his head back for Clark's claiming kiss. Their rhythm built relentlessly, each snap of hips dragging ragged moans from y/n's lips. He could feel the coiling tension in both alphas, their control fraying—and that alone nearly undid him. "Don't stop," y/n gasped, nails scoring down Clark's biceps. "Don't ever stop."
Clark shuddered, pressing his forehead to y/n's as Bruce's pace turned punishing, the wet slap of skin echoing off the penthouse walls. The omega's vision whited out when Clark's thumb grazed his swollen tip—once, twice—before Bruce's teeth sank into his mating gland. The dual stimulation shattered him. Y/n screamed, back bowing off the bed as pleasure detonated through every vein, slick gushing between his thighs.
Bruce groaned, hips stuttering as y/n's pulsing walls milked him mercilessly. Clark followed, burying himself to the hilt with a roar. The omega whimpered, overstimulated but greedy—clenching around their still-hard lengths as they spilled inside him in hot, rhythmic spurts. The scent of their combined release filled the room, primal and intoxicating.
Bruce collapsed beside them, dragging y/n against his chest while Clark nuzzled the omega's damp throat. "Mine," Bruce rumbled, licking the bite mark he'd left. Clark growled agreement, lips brushing y/n's shoulder. The omega sighed, boneless and sated, their mingled scents wrapping around him like a promise. Outside, the city pulsed—but here, in their tangled embrace, nothing else existed.
Clark traced idle patterns on y/n's hip, watching moonlight gild the sweat on his skin. "Should've seen yourself," he murmured, thumb skating over a love bite. "Begging so pretty for us." Bruce exhaled sharply, fingers tightening on y/n's thigh—already half-hard again at the memory. Y/n whined, pressing back against Bruce's growing erection, but Clark pinned him gently. "Easy, sweetheart. Let us take care of you."
Bruce's laugh was dark as he rolled y/n onto his stomach, spreading him open with two fingers. "Still dripping with us," he observed, dragging his tongue along the omega's trembling spine. Clark's breath hitched, watching Bruce lap up their combined spend from y/n's swollen rim. The omega sobbed into the sheets, hips jerking helplessly when Bruce's tongue pressed inside—deeper this time, relentless.
Clark's hands framed y/n's face, forcing eye contact as Bruce fucked him open with his tongue. "Want another round?" Clark asked, though they already knew the answer—y/n's nodding frantically, his broken "yes" swallowed by Clark's kiss. Bruce's chuckle vibrated against y/n's skin as he pulled back, slick glistening on his chin. "Then beg for it," he ordered, pressing two fingers into that molten heat—slow, torturous. Y/n shattered again before they even started.
The room smelled like sex and salt when Clark finally flipped him onto his back, hitching y/n's thighs over his shoulders. Bruce loomed behind, guiding his cock back into y/n's overstimulated body with a groan. "Feel that?" Bruce growled, thrusting deep—the stretch bordering on painful as Clark lined up against his front. Y/n could only gasp, tears streaking his cheeks when they moved in tandem, filling him impossibly full.
Somewhere between Clark's teeth on his neck and Bruce's hand around his cock, y/n forgot his own name. The world narrowed to bruising grips and burning pleasure, to whispered praise and filthy promises. When Clark came with a shout, spilling inside him for the second time, Bruce followed—his knot swelling just enough to lock them together as y/n convulsed between them, his scream muffled against Clark's collarbone.
Later—much later—they'd find the sheets ripped, the headboard cracked against the wall. Now, Bruce just carded fingers through y/n's sweat-damp hair as Clark pressed kisses to his knuckles, their scents finally settled. The omega barely stirred when Clark murmured "love you" against his pulse—just sighed, curling tighter into them, safe in the circle of their arms. The city could wait.
* ੈ✩‧₊˚* * ੈ✩‧₊˚* * ੈ✩‧₊˚* * ੈ✩‧₊˚* * ੈ✩‧₊˚*
Authors note: heh just figured out that the banners are the issue…😢
pairings: Dick Grayson x single dad!reader
summary: Dick didn't think much of it when Haley befriended a six year old boy, happy his dog has one more way to let out all the energy. What he didn't know is that the boy's cute dad will take him from dog dad to a full time boy dad.
tags: haley and (name)'s son play matchmakers. (name) works at Blüdhaven Natural History Museum and I promise it will be relevant to the story, implied smut (nothing graphic probably, but there will be warnings), mentions of complicated past relationships,
status: coming soon
taglist: open
𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀
ch.01 my dog's new playmate
ch.02 my son befriended a dog and her owner wants to date me
ch.03 cute dad agreed to a date but I am a major idiot
ch.04 I became a chaperone for Damian's school trip so I can beg the cute dad for another chance
ch.05 I found out Dick's secret identity and tried to set boundaries (but Luke had other ideas)
ch.06 I might be the luckiest man alive
ch.07
ch.08
and more...
It was always a mess being the one omega in a base full off alphas. It felt like every couple of seconds, you were shaking off new advances from all the other members.
So what if you’re a guy? They’re tense from missions, it’s nothing personal. At least, that is what you try to tell yourself. But….
You know it’s really more. You feel it in the way their gaze lingers when your tending their wounds, the way the gentle caresses seem to linger a moment too long….
But you notice it the most when you’re in heat. They always tend to you gently, they always make sure not to tear you when knotting you, they always stayed after your main heat was over to make sure that you were completely okay.
Really you did know they were utterly in love with you. You always did, since the moment you joined. Especially now, laying down, heavy with god-knows-who’s pups in a cuddle pile a team of contented alphas, all tending tender care of you.
(;¬_¬) Alpha Tendencies - Clark Kent x Omega male reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Plot: Childhood best friends turn into something more when red kryponite forces out Clark's perverted thoughts
Featuring: Alpha (Smallville) Clark Kent x Omega male reader
Note: Presenting as A/B/O happens around 18 in this AU, not around regular puberty at 14!!!!!!
ALSO! Never watched this series(?) and I know nothing abt DC other than what I've read from fanfiction so pls excuse any continuity issues and such!
Warnings: amab m!reader / FDNI ~ Minors DNI!
Alpha!Clark who's been protective over you since childhood. The two of you had been best friends and 'neighbours' since you two learnt to walk 'n talk! You were the closest house to Clark's farm; still pretty much in the middle of nowhere, but close enough that the brunette would knock on your door every day to get you outside to play together. And even though you two hadn't even presented yet, it was like you both naturally knew to settle into that Alpha-Omega rhythm. Clark would always watch out for you, his blood pressure spiking and his little fangs baring whenever you hurt yourself whilst playing or a stranger approached.
Alpha!Clark who presented as an Alpha and literally couldn't stop thinkin' about you. During his entire first rut, his brain was consumed with thoughts of you. Thoughts of you being such a good omega and helping him with school work, thoughts of him scaring off your bullies who thought you were too flamboyant, thoughts of you beneath him, thoughts of you purring Clark's name into his ear...
It really affected Clark. He felt so full of shame once he'd come to after his rut had ended; he literally couldn't look you in the eye for a week!
Alpha!Clark who had discovered a new side of himself, a side he tried so hard to shove down and keep hidden. A side which would keep Clark up at night unless he jerked off to the thought of you, his innocent, perfect, sexy childhood best friend, in compromising positions and situations with the Alpha. A side to himself which made it so difficult for Clark to concentrate on what you were saying when you're eyes looked so pretty looking up at him, when your scent was making his brain feel fuzzy and his dick ache, oh and especially when your voice saying his name to get his attention sounded so sweet. But the superhuman kept this perverted side of himself bottled up. That was until he received a gift.
Alpha!Clark who couldn't turn down a gift from the Omega he'd been desperate to court since childhood. So, when you presented him with a silver band-like ring, how could he resist putting it on? Though both of you were unaware that the minuscule red gem encrusted into the ring, the one you thought was a plastic rhinestone, was actually one of the last tiny pieces of red kryptonite left on earth (excuse the lack of series knowledge). And you wouldn't find out for a while. After all, it was such a tiny piece that it affected Clark very minutely. Though it slowly but surely picked up speed.
Alpha!Clark who thought he just felt a bit braver recently. Maybe his brain had fully developed. Or perhaps he just stopped thinking about consequences or morals as much, but he was definitely acting differently...
Again, it started off slow and small. An out-of-pocket kinda sexual comment about you that you'd laugh off: "Your lips look good around that popsicle". Then it turned into more open courting; yeah, you and Clark had kind of been courting each other since childhood, but now the Alpha was carrying your bag around all day and giving you gifts every morning. Then came the jealousy; an alpha couldn't get a word in if Clark was around, whether the said alpha be a friend of yours or even sometimes a teacher, Clark would be on them like white on rice; holding back snarls as his arm snakes around your waist, baring his teeth, and making passive-aggressive comments.
Alpha!Clark who was still managing to put up a 'good Alpha' front despite the influence of the kryptonite. But behind closed doors, it was a very different story. The laundry basket in your room had tempted Clark many times, to the point it became routine for him to sneak a pair of your underwear and take it home with him, replacing it with a pair he'd stolen a couple of weeks past, which had lost your scent. Oh, and not to mention the way that any time you would sleep over at his house, share a bed with him, Clark would make sure you were asleep and jerk off until his dick felt like it would fall off. You just looked so fucking perfect and blissful next to (below) him, how could he resist? How could he stop?
Alpha!Clark who had reached his boiling point. It was a hot summer day, and Clark was being made to help out on his parents' farm while school was out. Of course you offered to help him out, and how could he say no? It was getting to a point that Clark could barely go a whole day without seeing you. But you were really doing the opposite of helping him. Sure, you were getting the jobs around the farm done, no complaints there. But you were rendering the young alpha practically inept with the way your skimpy summer clothes were showing off your skin, the way your body was shiny and sweaty from the hot summer air, and holy shit, the way your face was flushed along with your cute pants of exhaustion? Clark could feel the boner in his pants almost tear the seams of his briefs.
Alpha!Clark who finally submitted to the influence of the red kryptonite in his ring, meaning he finally gave into his desires, his basic Alphan needs. You don't even know how it happened, but one second you were moving around some haybales in the Kent's barn, and the next you were sitting atop said haybales with Clark standing between your legs, kissing you feverishly. His scent of mineral musk and small notes of grapefruit was all you could smell, making your head feel fuzzy as you reciprocated the kiss, the kiss from your childhood best friend. Clark, on the other hand, was greedily inhaling the sweet smell of vanilla bean and sandalwood that was leaking from your scent gland; the alpha literally huffing through his nose whilst moulding his lips against yours, you'd think Clark was addicted to your scent.
Alpha!Clark who had his (temporary) fix of your lips and started kissing down your neck, stopping to give your scent gland some attention, and all the way down to the waistline of your shorts. Before it even registered to you, mainly due to the Alpha pheremones weakening your frontal cortex to increase the chance of reproduction, Clark was on his knees below you; his strong, muscular arms holding your thighs up and his chiselled face between your asscheeks. Loud moans and desperate whines echoed throughout the barn and only worked to egg Clark on as he worked his warm, wet tongue into your hole; your gushing slick and his own spit literally flowing down his chin and perfect jawline like some lewd waterfall. Your fingers gripped the Alpha's brown locks with a force that to you felt like a lot, but to the absolute hunk of an Alpha beneath you felt like an adorable attempt. Your toes curled in the air above Clark's head as your thighs shook from the intense pleasure of an Alpha eating you out like he was starved, because after pinning for you for so many years, Clark may as well have been.
Alpha!Clark who felt his heart skip a beat and his inner alpha scream in pleasure when you came on his tongue as you moaned out Clark's name. But the Alpha fell in love with you even more (though that would be literally impossible) when, after basking in the afterglow of your earthshattering orgasm, you offered Clark the same treatment, explaining with an embarrassed blush that you didn't want him to feel left out. That's how you both ended up lying hayloft of Clark's barn; you on top of the muscular alpha in a sixty-nine position, his dick in your mouth and vice versa. To say that Clark had never felt so much pleasure before would be an understatement, 'cause the way you started to gently lap at the Alpha's musky, inhumanely large dick and then transitioned into head sloppier than Clark had seen in porno's? That shit made Clark wanna cum then and there. But don't think that just 'cause the brunnette was almost drunk on pleasure that he wasn't focusing on your pleasure too! No, no, Clark was having to wrap his muscular arms around your hips to keep them still; the top he was giving you was making you leak slick and pre like a tap left runnin'! Seriously though, Clark could fit your entire omegan prick inside his mouth with ease, and the way his tongue would rub your tip whilst his cheeks would hollow was making you see stars.
Alpha!Clark who held off his orgasm, perks of being Kryptonian, unlike you, who shot another load down the Alpha's throat and leaked so much slick that Clark could have drowned. Though Clark was more than happy to hold off his orgasm if it meant he could knot his Omega; yes, his Omega, 'cause at this point, marking and knotting you were formalities to claiming you.
By the time the aftershocks of your second orgasm had quietened down, Clark already had you in another position; kneeling behind you as your chest lay flat on the hayloft, your hips on the other hand, propped up and presenting for your Alpha. Clark gave you the grace of entering you slowly and giving you time to adjust to his ten-inch monster; though from the mewls and moans of pain and pleasure you were letting out, his soft approach barely helped.
Alpha!Clark who rocked your world the moment you gave him the green light. We're talking backshots that could be heard all the way in England; Clark's huge, masculine hands gripping your hips tight enough to move you on and off his cock but gently enough to let you know he cares. Your breathy moans loudly reverberated throughout the barn as Clark knocked the wind out of you with every thrust, and the Alpha's own groans and moans harmonised with yours so nicely. Your scents mixed in the air along with the smell of slick, spit, and sweat; the hot, humid summer air making even the open-plan barn stink of raw sex. The scene looked like it belonged in a VHR porno, and both of you couldn't get enough of it; your Omega keening and purring at the physical and emotional feeling of having an Alpha like Clark want you in this way, and Clark's alpha roaring in pleasure and pride from having his Omega beneath him and drunk on pleasure from his doing.
Alpha!Clark who checked in on you one last time before letting himself go, leaning down, his muscular chest to your arching back, and whispering in your ear 'you doin' good? Mind if I knot you, darling?'. Ugh and when you give the man a forced nod and moan out a 'yes please'? How could Clark help himself? He'd wrapping and arm around your waist and another around head, letting your head rest against his huge bicep as his hips start moving at a speed your body could barely register or handle. All you could remember other than your own lewd sounds and moans was Clark's groaned-out string of perverted, raw, Alphan comments as he knotted you.
"Fuck you're so tight" "So fuckin' good for me- the- NGH- perfect fucking Omega" "AH- Shit-! so wet and warm just for your- your alpha" "Fuck 'm gonna knot you 'n fill you with my pups, darlin' You want that, don't ya?"
That dirty talk, along with the feeling of Clark's thick knot pushing against your rim, was what sent you over the edge for a third time. You saw white, then black, then stars of white again as your vision came back in small spots. Your dick soaked the wood and hay below you with infertile Omegan cum, your breathy moans and whiny pants mixed with Clark's moans and croons as his knot kept him locked inside of you; his thick, warm, scarily fertile cum filling you to the brim. Every unconscious pulse of your walls coaxed and forced another shot of seed out of Clark; a natural push and pull from your inner Omega and Alpha. At the end of the day, no matter how much pleasure you get out of this, the end goal, whether you want it or not, is pups.
Alpha!Clark who would gently rub your hips and the side of your thighs as the intense aftershocks stop. The silence, accompanied by soft panting from both of you, was calming, and the feeling of Clark's hands rubbing your body and the marks left on it did wonders in relaxing you. Clark gently moved the two of you into a spooning position, mindful of his knot still keeping him rock hard and locked inside of you, and played with your hair as you both talked sweet nothings.
"Y'know... I think I fell for you the moment I laid eyes on you"
"Really? That quickly hmhm...? I think I fell for you when you carried me home when I scraped my knee"
"That happened quite often, you'll have to be more specific haha"
"Shut up... So... what did this mean?"
"If it were fully up to me... I'd of marked you and paraded you around the town as my Omega by now... But the deciding vote will always be yours, [name]"
"Hmhm~ I think we can take it a little slower than that... I think boyfriends is a good place to start~"
Request: Hello, I was wondering if I could request a Scott story. Could you write a dom!Scott one where he’s in heat because of his werewolf side and very horny? Thanks!
A/N: He didn’t end up as dom as what I’ve written before. It was oddly difficult for me to write dom scott. I struggled with this, but I hope you like it in the end :)
He didn’t know whether to curse his luck or bless it. You were too kind really, checkin in on him after noticing he’d missed school…again. Scott smelled you before he saw you, sweet cinnamon mixed with the thick, spicy scent of Old Spice. Scott never enjoyed the brand before but the moment he scented it on you, he swore it was heavenly. Now though, it filled him with dread as he mentally documented your ascent up the stairs, Scott pinned to his place in bed, from fear, or excitement, he wasn’t sure. There was a good chance that it was both that held him there though, the weight of these feelings crushing his chest and threatening to suffocate him as the sounds of your footsteps paused just outside of his bedroom door.
“Hey Scotty!” your voice was like music to his ears. Your scent burned as it flooded his system with pleasure. Fuck, this was so bad. Scot graced you with a pained smile, hating the way your smile faltered. You drew nearer, the alpha wolf tensing as a small grocery bag was plopped onto the bed.
“Brought you some stuff. Your mom said you were sick or something.”
“Or something,” Scott rasped without thinking. The scent of you was intoxicating, making it seriously difficult to concentrate.
“Hm?” you questioned, brows pinching and lips pursing in that confused pout you always had when you felt like you missed out on something. It was the same one that would never fail to make Scott’s heart do funny things in his chest. Who was he kidding though? Just your mere presence had his heart doing strange things.
Today was different though. Your presence didn’t elicit the same reactions. Today you made Scott hungry, ravenous even. Your scent burned him from the inside out. Your voice had him flushed and eager. Scott was in rut, an embarrassing side effect to the many benefits of his supernatural status. He’d been able to control himself at first. Alison usually helped every now and then. For the most part he was okay, though when he met you, it took everything he had not to jump you, which was why he planned to lock himself away. Alas, that plan had failed, and here you were, still waiting on his response.
Fuck, he needed to say something! Warm brown eyes flickered across your face, focusing on your lips. Bad move. Scott couldn’t think of anything else but how they’d feel against his own.
“Kiss,” he murmured, your brow furrowing deeper. Surely you had misheard him.
“Eh?”
“N-Nothing!” Scott quickly answered. He needed to get a grip! But it was so hard. You were right there. The object of his affections, so close. Scott wanted nothing more than to drag you down and ravage you, show you every pleasure known to man. Sadly, he couldn’t. He’d scare you away and he couldn’t lose you, not like that. So, Scott had resigned himself to a life of pining after you, a task easier said than done.
“Are you sure?” you pressed, Scott groaning inwardly. He didn’t want the subject pressed, fearful that you may see through him like glass. The wolf tensed as your hand reached out to take his temperature, fingers cool yet electrifying as a soft whimper escaped the alpha male. A single brow rose in curiosity, Scott’s face flaring a brilliant red as he realized what sound he’d made.
“I-I uh, it wasn’t…I was..um…” Scott fumbled with his words before giving up and clearing his throat. He had to think of some sort of excuse for his embarrassing sound, but when he looked up into those brilliant orbs, he’d forgotten everything. His mind went blank, lips parting as he gasped softly. He didn’t understand how one person could be so beautiful. Just the sight of you made his body ache, the evidence tenting painfully between his legs. Another whimper slipped from his lips, eyes falling back to full lips that he’d been craving for weeks, months even.
“Um..Scott?” you questioned, teeth dragging over your bottom lip nervously. You’d never seen the other act like this. Scott tensed at the sight, watching the skin pull before popping back into place, soft, wet and glistening. Your lips were calling to him, teasing him. Did you even understand what you were doing to him? He thought not, which only made it worse…or perhaps better. Fuck if he knew. All he wanted was you, beneath him, moaning, no..no, screaming his name. He needed it like he needed air to breathe yet, you knew nothing of it, dangled the proverbial meat before the starving wolf. Oh how innocent you could be at times. How badly Scott wanted to take you, ravage you, strip you of that inno-
“Scott!” Your voice snapped the wolf back to attention, heat crawling up his cheeks as he realized what path his mind had been venturing. Scott prayed that you didn’t glance down, that you wouldn’t notice the way his cock twitched in anticipation, in need for you, for your touch. His heart ached for it, his body begged, his wolf cried for it. The thing he wanted so badly, sat unknowingly right before him. “You okay? You’re really hot.”
“Uh, yeah? That’s uh…ahem,” Scott was dying, fingers digging into his bed sheets, claws ripping through the fabric. You had no idea what sort of torture you were putting him through as he watched the plump softness of your lips move with your words. It was hypnotizing, a soft growl rumbling from his chest. “It’s uh…” He was on the edge, teetering on giving in. Your eyes watched him, setting him on fire as they waited eagerly for his response. The way you were looking at him, he wanted so badly to make those beautiful orbs roll, those lips part and that warm voice of your cry out his name. The throbbing between his legs only grew, aching, between his thighs.
The straw that broke the camel’s back though, was the moment your cool touch smoothed down to his cheek, cupped his jaw. Brown orbs, threatening to glow the brilliant red of his alpha status, watched at you bent down, scent washing over him, invading everything thing that he was.
“(Y/n),” purred from his tongue. He couldn’t resist, clawed hand reaching up. In one smooth motion fingers wrapped around the back of your neck and yanked you down to meet the warm plushness of Scott’s lips.
The kiss was hungry, as if Scott had been starved from your touch. He didn’t even wait for permission before his tongue was pressing between your eager lips, and oh god…it was as if the holy lands had been opened to him. Hands grappled to hold you close, bodies molding together as if they were made to fit like this. Mewls rolled off your tongue, muffled by eager, passionate kisses. The way your tongue curled in Scott’s mouth, fought for your own dominance, it set the blaze inside of him burning brighter. He loved the game, basked in it, purred at the feeling of you trying to take charge, responding to him with fervor.
He wouldn’t lose to you though.
Bodies turned, Scott flipping on top of you, settling between your thighs. Lips dragged down your jaw, savoring the taste of your flesh beneath his tongue. Never had he ever tasted something so sweet in his life. It left him ravenous, lips latching to a sensitive piece of flesh just beneath your jawline. Oh and the way you whimpered in response, it took everything in him not to rip off your clothes and take you then and there. He wanted you, needed you, growling as hips pressed up against his own, hardened flesh rubbing together with the most delicious of friction blossoming between the two.
“Sco-Scott…wai-..oh god, Scott~” you tried, and failed, to get things to slow down. It’s not that you didn’t want this, god you wanted it so fucking badly it hurt, but it was so sudden. Scott had always been sweet to you and you had noticed a few lingering glances. Never had you thought it would turn into this though. Besides, you were fairly certain he had a girlfriend, though the way he was devouring your flesh, marking your neck with multiple, pleasurable, deep purple bruises were claiming something completely different.
“Wh…What-… fuck, abo-nnngh~….What about….ahhh~..A-Alli-…shit…Allison?” you gasped out, arching when teeth grazed your collarbone. How in the flying fuck did this boy know every weak spot you had? It was like they were ingrained into his senses, something he innately knew about your body. It wasn’t fair! A petulant jealousy growing inside of you as more marks blossomed over your skin and none marred that beautifully softly tanned flesh.
“What?” Scott pulled back, the mention of the female’s name having shot through his lust-clouded mind. It didn’t bring him back, not all the way at least, though he was able to think, somewhat, coherently. “Why are you talking about her?” he groaned, dipping back down to continue his assault to your flesh. The soft groan that he was rewarded pushed a smirk on to his lips, fingers working beneath your shirt. Whatever sense Scott had momentarily gained was quickly washed away by such a beautiful sound.
His touch made your skin burn, and the thought of his relationship, whatever it may be, with Allison soon faded from your mind. It’s not like you could help it! You were horny and the boy of your dreams was literally ravaging you. It would be foolish not to take Scott up on his gracious offer, arms rising to aid in the other removing your shirt. It was hot and heavy and fuck if it wasn’t every wet dream you ever had all wrapped up into one. Lips that had once been ravaging your throat eagerly moved on to small rosy buds. Teeth nipped and pleasure shot through every nerve ending in your body. Lips wrapped around the right bud, sucking it into his mouth, tongue flicking and sending jolts of bliss through you.
It was hard to think, hard to breath, heavy gasps dragged into burning lungs as fingers combed through dark hair. They wrapped around silk strands, tugging hard as teeth pinched your nipple. “Ffff-uck~! Scott,” you whimpered, heat pooling between your legs, stiffening an already eager rod to the point of near pain. “Please…pleasepleaseplease,” you whined, hips rutting up harshly, grinding hard against Scott’s own. You needed him. You needed him so badly it was causing pain, eyes fluttering open to find those brilliant chocolate brown eyes nearly black with lust. It made you tremble where you lay, heart racing in your chest. The smirk that formed from Scott hearing it made your toes curl and butterflies erupt in your chest. Fuck he was amazing.
“Please what?” Scott spoke, the growl in his voice practically orgasmic. He could smell it, the lust that poured from you. It was intoxicating, Scott lowering to press his face into the curve of your neck, inhaling deeply in bliss. This was…you were….”Holy hell you’re amazing.”
“Scott,” you whined, squirming beneath him, a combination of need and ticklishness from his breath fanning across your neck. Never in your life did you think that this would ever be possible. Scott being into men was…it was laughable. Ever since you had known him he was into women and yet, here you two were, rolling around in the sheets, so desperate for the other it was nearly unbearable. If he kept teasing you for one second longer, you were going to lose it.
“Yes~” Scott mused, nipping soft skin as lips worked their way lower. The wolf revelled in the way your chest rose and fell rapidly, panting heavy breaths all because of him. Kissing lower, hands caressed their way down, gripping slim thighs, massing soft jean-clad flesh as his mouth worked over a flat stomach. He reveled in the way your breath hitched, highly tempted to press his face against the tent in your jeans, though admittedly that would be a bit weird.
“I swear…to god…if you don’t hurry up….” your breathless voice pulled the alpha from his thoughts, the smirk on those hungry lips of his only growing. It only seemed to flush you with heat, cock twitching beneath the constraints of now far too tight jeans. He was messing with you, taking his sweet ole time in ravaging you but you weren’t having it. You need him, needed Scott to keep touching you and you him. You needed to taste him, to feel him. How many times had you dreamt of it before, only to wake up hot and bothered and without the soothing heat of your crush by your side. For a moment, the thought that this was just another dream flickered through your mind but, well, you didn’t remember falling asleep. If fate was kind enough, you were awake and this was very real.
“What?” Scott rasped, tongue lolling out to run along the form tented between your legs. The strangled cry of wanting frustration was like music to his ears. “What are you going to do about it?” he purred, chuckling at the flash of determination in your eyes. The next thing he knew, fingers were tight in his hair, yanking his head back before lips crashed upon his own. A moan tore from his throw, low and guttural as it vibrated through his chest. The burn of pain on his scalp was euphoric.
Distracted, lips focusing on ravaging your own, Scott didn’t realize the tables had been turned until it was too late. He was on his back, your warmth atop of him as lips worked down his jaw and throat. HIs skin prickled, tingling warmth left in the wake of soft nips and kisses. Hands grasped your waist, tugging your form closer, hips rolling once again as pleasure blossomed through his body. It was heaven and, to be honest, if he so happened to finish early just like this, he wouldn’t even be mad. You were…you were amazing.
“I’m going to blow your fucking mind,” the words whispered, hot and heavy, in Scott’s ear. The moan he gave had you giving one in return as you worked your way down his form. Clothes were haphazardly discarded, tongue tasting, greedy as it traversed the chiseled planes of his body. You were unaware of what he was, the change that he’d gone through freshman year, though were quite delighted by what they’d gifted. Jeans were made quick work of, leaving you to ogle the gift you’d given yourself.
He was very well endowed, eyes wide as they stared at Scott’s flushed, hard length. Teeth raked over your bottom lips, a swell of nervous energy building inside of you. This wasn’t exactly your first rodeo, so to speak, but you’d only ever gone so far. How far was this going to go, you had no clue but – glancing up at Scott, eyes met and you knew, then and there, that even if it did go that far, you’d never regret a thing.
There was a moment of breathless anticipation, a silent message passed between the two of you. You were asking for permission and he had given it. Swallowing down the nerves that had welled inside of you, lips parted to wrap around the thick heat in your hand. The sound Scott made was….there were no words. His moan vibrated through your senses, fogged over your mind and set desire newly ablaze within you. Eyes fluttered closed as Scott tapped the back of your throat but you weren’t willing to stop there. No, oh no. You’d waited far too long for this to wimp out at a full mouth.
With a deep breath, you relaxed your throat and allowed Scott deeper. The wolf nearly shot his load then and there, eyes flashing red as a growl rumbled loudly in his throat. Fingers dove into your hair, nails scraping over your scalp and eliciting a shiver. Scott needed more, nostrils flaring as he fisted your hair in his hand. He was gentle at first, pulling you up and pressing you down on his cock slowly, watching almost memorized as his length disappeared into your mouth. The pleasure tingled along his spine but it was soon proving not enough.
Eyes flashing with a predatory gleam that had your cock hardening between your legs to a near painful degree. Scott was using you – a usually gentle and caring sort of guy stared down at you as he fucked your pretty little mouth and you couldn’t get enough. His muscles rippled beneath his warm flesh, slicked with sweat as he gasped through the pleasure, hissing as he felt himself edge towards release. Scott was close, oh so fucking close, but he wasn’t ready to finish just yet.
Oh no. He needed far more than just your mouth.
With a rough jerk, your lips left Scott’s cock with a wet pop, leaving them wet and glistening as you gasped in much needed air. You barely took a gulp before lips were crashing against your and your back hit the sheets. It seemed that the brunette was done playing games and for that you were all too thankful. The sound of ripping cloth as your mouth agape, the wolf’s name bolting from your lips as the tattered remains of your jeans were tossed aside. “Scott!”
“They were in the way,” he muttered, hands dragging you down the bed by your hips. The look on your face was adorable - eyes wide in shock as you lay splayed out beneath him. “Gotta problem with that?” Scott mused, the growl that seemed to reside within it at all times sending a shiver racing along your spine.
“N….No,” you muttered, breathless. That crooked smirk took your breath away, arms linking around Scott’s neck as you pulled him down for a kiss. He eagerly returned it, tongue licking its way into your mouth and quickly taking control. You felt completely surrounded by your long time friend, preening as his teeth sank into your bottom lip and pulled. You needed him, the ache between your legs no longer able to be ignored. “Scott…please,” your words were soft but his keen ears were able to catch it easily.
Head lifting from where he was ravaging your neck, there was a flicker in those dark eyes, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but god did you want more of it. “Beg.” The command was simple and yet your voice caught in your throat.
Whoever this was, whatever side of Scott that had suddenly been unleashed, left you utterly speechless.
Fingers wrapped around your jaw, forcing your gazes together as hips rolled slowly against your own. A choked moan bubbled from your lips as you jerked to keep the friction only to find that Scott had moved just out of reach. “I. Said. Beg,” he ground out, daring you to disobey again.
“Please,” you whimpered, ready and willing to give anything to find your release now. “Please Scotty I-…..I need you. I need you so bad it hurts,” you whimpered, some very real tears beginning to prick the corners of your eyes. You’d never been this hard in your life. You needed his touch like you needed oxygen and that wasn’t even the slightest bit of an over-exaggeration.
“Good boy,” Scott mused, dragging you into a fiery kiss. The hand on your jaw slid down your exposed chest, slipping over the tent of your boxers. Hips jerked into the touch, earning a pleased chuckle from the boy above you. “So needy for me,” he cooed at you, fingers wrapping around your clothed shaft and-
“Fuck Scotty!” you choked out, arching into his grasp. “Please! Stop teasing I can’t…I can’t I need…” a tear rolled down your cheek as the need became too much. You squirmed beneath the wolf; gasping, red cheeks and in dire need of something, anything.
“You just had to ask,” Scott cooed as if he hadn’t just drove you to the brink of sanity. Hands made quick work of your boxers, thighs spread as he easily bent them towards your chest. Scott paused then, tongue flicking out to wet his lips at the sight of you exposed to him. Him and him alone. He was the only one allowed to see you like this from now on. “You’re mine you understand,” he demanded, eyes snapping to your own. The look in them had your cock jumping and your heart racing in your chest.
You couldn’t nod fast enough, eyes rolling as you felt a finger prod your entrance. “Say it,” Scott demanded, slowly easing the digit inside of you. For a moment your mind blanked, lips parting in a silent moan, walls fluttering around the intrusion. You’d waited far too long for it, a strangled breath the only answer the wolf was given. The digit curled, slipping out and jerking back in roughly, earning a deep, guttural moan from you.
“Say it y/n!” Scott demanded, plunging his finger sharply into you once more.
“I’m yours!” you shouted unabashedly, thighs quaking from even these simple touches. The smirk that graced the wolf’s face was worth it as Scott hovered above you, lips finding yours once more.
“That’s my good boy,” he cooed and you could have sworn your heart burst then and there. Lips molded together once again, his tongue wasting no time in tasting you. His finger was gentler now, working to stretch you. Between kisses, low grunts to beg and demands to voice Scott’s claim on you, he’d stretched you out enough to truly stake his claim.
With bated breath you waited as Scott lined himself up, shuddering as you felt his head press against you. For a moment there was a shift, the fog of heat lifting, and the Scott you knew and loved was there, eyes flickering over your face. “You want this right?” his voice soft, almost hesitant. You knew if you wanted to stop it now that he’d let you go, that he’d never force you into something you didn’t want, but you did want this. You’ve wanted this for years and finally you were going to get it.
“I want this, Scott,” you assured, a flicker of a smile shining on his features and in one slow, steady press of his hips, he was inside of you. In that moment you swear you had died and gone to heaven. That’s what this was, you were sure of it. There was just no way Scott was fucking you. No way that he had kissed you, claimed you as his and…”O…Oh my….Scott…fuck…oh wow,” you gasped between heavy breaths as fingers twisted in the sheets. Scott hadn’t even begun to move yet, but the simple feeling of him inside of you was just incredible.
Scott soon pulled out, slipping in slowly to test the water, growling in delight at the way you squeezed him. He’d never felt someone so tight, so hot - eyes flashing as his wolf demanded to crawl to the surface, to claim you properly, to mark you as his. There would be no mistaking who you belonged to after today.
The pace was quickly set, a harsh snapping of hips, thighs pressed to your hips as Scott growled in your ear. Arms were wrapped tightly around him, toes curled as you practically screamed his name. He was rough, wild and everything you could possibly dreamed but better. Sweat glistened on your skin, eyes closed as nails raked down the wolf’s back. “FUCK SCOTT!” his name bounced around the room, mixing with the sounds of his squeaking mattress and headboard against the wall, the feeling of your walls clamping down on him igniting pride inside of him. “THere! Right there please! Please Scott…Scotty I…I’m….cum, wanna cum,” you mumbled out barely coherent words.
“Say you’re mine,” Scott demanded, breathless, ravaging your body as you cried out in bliss. He was close, brows knit in concentration as his hips snapped against yours at an inhuman pace. “Say you belong to me.”
“Yours!” You moaned, hugging Scott as close as humanly possible. Your cock bounced between you from the force of his thrusts, a particular angle making you see stars. “FUck SCOTT PLEASE YES! YOURS! I…I’M YOURS! ALL YOURS BABY! PLEASE I’M…MAKE ME CUM PLEASE!” You screamed, voice rough from overuse.
“Alpha….call me alpha,” Scott rasped, nails clawing at the sheets as he fought for control over his wolf.
You didn’t even question the odd request, shouting the title as you felt your body tremble. “Alpha! I’M YOURS ALPHA!”
With one hard thrust you were toppling over the edge of bliss chanting “Alpha,” as each rope of cum splashed against you and Scott’s lower belly. A roar erupted from him, eyes burning red as Scott hit his high and spilled into you. It was warm, filling you quickly as he painted your insides a creamy white.
Gasping Scott collapsed on top of you, face tucking into the curve of your neck as your body melted into the dirtied sheets. “M’love you,” slurred sleepily from the brunette’s lips, barely registering in your dreary mind. Smiling softly, your tired arms linked tighter around Scott. “M’love you too, Scotty.”
PAIRING:
Clark Kent x Male Reader
SYNOPSIS:
Superman might be earth's greatest hero, but even he can't keep his composure when being sent dirty texts. Stuck in an interview and receiving lewd pictures, Clark barely holds himself together before flashing home to teach his boyfriend a lesson.
WARNING:
18+ SMUT AHEAD
Clark Kent prided himself on composure. He could stand in front of the President, face down world leaders, even negotiate with Justice League members who thought their egos outranked his. He could endure laser fire, collapsing skyscrapers, and entire alien armadas without breaking a sweat.
But you? You were going to be the death of him.
Clark adjusted his glasses, clearing his throat as he angled the notepad on his knee. His interview subject, a nervous city councilman, was rambling about budget reform. Clark offered his usual steady nods, scribbling in neat shorthand, voice warm and professional.
That was when his phone vibrated in his jacket pocket. Once, twice. He ignored it. Then again—longer this time. Clark flicked his gaze down, irritation tugging at the corner of his mouth. He never ignored you, not for long. Sliding the phone under the notepad, he peeked.
The text preview alone nearly made him drop his pen.
"Thinking about you under me right now. Shirt open, glasses on. Bet you’d blush when I grind down…"
Clark coughed into his fist. “Excuse me—could you repeat that last part about infrastructure?” he asked the councilman, voice only an octave too high.
His pocket buzzed again. Then again. And, against his better judgment, he checked. It was a photo. You in bed, nothing but his shirt hanging loose off your shoulders, collarbones exposed, lips parted in a mock-innocent pout. The caption:
"You coming home soon, reporter? I need you to fact check me."
Clark pressed his thighs together so hard the chair creaked. Heat pooled in his gut, and the councilman was still talking. He managed a tight smile, pen barely moving as the phone buzzed again. Another photo. This time your hand slid lower, teasing at skin he knew too well.
Clark’s ears burned. His glasses fogged at the corners. He could feel his control fraying.
“Mr. Kent? You look a little flushed.” the councilman said, pausing with a slightly concerned expression.
Clark forced a chuckle, voice strained. “Ah—just a little warm in here.”
By some miracle, he made it through the rest of the interview without combusting on the spot. The second he was dismissed, he offered a handshake, mumbled a polite farewell, and then he was gone in a blur of red and blue no one could see.
Clark didn’t even bother with keys or doors. He blurred into the apartment, suit jacket half-off before he reached the bedroom, glasses discarded somewhere in the hallway. By the time he reached you, sprawled on the sheets in nothing but his shirt, he was already half hard and flushed scarlet.
“You’re cruel,” he growled, hands gripping your wrists as he pressed you down into the mattress. “Do you know what you put me through?”
You smirked, voice low. “I saw the pictures I sent. Pretty sure you enjoyed them.”
Clark’s answering kiss was rough, hungry. His mouth devoured yours, tongue sliding against yours in messy desperation. His usually careful hands were frantic—tugging the shirt off your shoulders, yanking at his own tie until it snapped.
“You almost had me coming undone in front of a councilman,” he rasped against your throat. “I couldn’t think of anything but you spread out, touching yourself—” His teeth sank lightly into your collarbone, making you gasp. “—and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.”
You arched up against him, rolling your hips. “Well, you can now.”
That snapped the last of his control. Clark tore his shirt open, buttons scattering across the room, chest heaving. He stripped you bare in seconds, his large hands greedy as they mapped every inch of skin. He kissed down your chest, sucking marks over your ribs and biting your hip hard enough to bruise.
When he finally slid between your thighs, the sight alone made you moan. Clark’s pupils were blown wide, jaw tight as he pushed your legs open and settled in. He stroked himself once—thick, flushed, dripping already—before pressing the tip against you.
“Clark—” you gasped, clutching at his shoulders.
He leaned down, kissing you softer now, but no less intense. “Tell me you want this,” he whispered. “Tell me you need me as bad as I need you.”
Your reply was a moan into his mouth, grinding up against him. “God, yes. Please. I’ve been waiting all day.”
That was all he needed. He thrust forward slowly, stretching you open inch by inch until you cried out against his lips. His forehead pressed to yours, jaw clenched as he fought to keep control. “Fuck—you’re so tight—always so perfect for me.”
Once he bottomed out, his rhythm was relentless. Deep, hard thrusts that had you clawing at his back and crying out his name. Clark’s hands pinned your hips down, forcing you to take every inch as he pounded into you, the bedframe shaking with each movement.
“Wanted to bend you over that interview table,” he groaned, sweat beading at his temples. “Wanted to fuck you right there with my notepad on the floor. You have no idea what you do to me.”
Your eyes rolled back as he angled his hips, slamming into that spot that made you see stars. “Clark—fuck—right there—”
His thrusts grew faster, more desperate, his control unraveling with every sound you made. “That’s it—take me, just like that—” His hand slid between you, stroking you in time with his thrusts until your body trembled.
You came first, crying out as you spilled over your stomach and his chest, clenching so tight around him that Clark lost all rhythm. With a strangled groan, he buried himself deep one last time, spilling inside you with a force that made his whole body shudder.
Clark lay draped over you for a long moment, chest still heaving, his weight heavy but comforting. When your breathing evened out, he finally stirred, pressing one last kiss to your neck before pulling back with a sheepish little smile.
“You’re unbelievable,” he murmured, brushing your hair out of your eyes. “One of these days, you’re going to cost me my job.”
You smirked lazily, still catching your breath. “Pretty sure the Pulitzer Prize winner can survive one horny boyfriend.”
Clark laughed, low and warm, the sound vibrating against your skin. He kissed you again—slow, unhurried—before carefully slipping out of bed. In less than a second, he was back with a damp towel and a glass of water, moving with that gentle efficiency that made your chest ache.
“Here,” he said softly, wiping you clean with careful strokes, not a trace of the earlier frenzy left. He was meticulous, making sure you were comfortable before handing you the water. “Drink. You always forget.”
You rolled your eyes but obeyed, sipping as Clark slid back into bed. He pulled you into his arms immediately, tucking you against his broad chest like you were the only thing anchoring him.
For a while, there was only the sound of your heartbeats syncing together. Then Clark’s voice broke the quiet, playful but fond. “I should write my editor a resignation letter right now. Reason: my boyfriend is a menace to productivity.”
You snorted into his chest. “Admit it—you liked the distraction.”
His hand stroked lazily up and down your back, soothing. “Liked? I almost flew out of there mid-question. You make Superman sweat, you know that?”
You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, the corners of your lips curving. “That’s the goal.”
Clark shook his head, chuckling, then kissed your forehead, all softness now. “My goal is to make sure you never doubt how much I love you.” His voice was a whisper, thick with sincerity. “No matter how much trouble you cause me at work.”
You grinned, curling closer into him. “Guess we both win, then.”
And with Clark’s steady heartbeat under your ear, his arms holding you like you were his whole world, it was impossible to not fall asleep.
Warnings: MLM, AMAB Reader, fantasy au, double cock fisting (idk wtf to call it), edging, dacryphilia, petnames, Sylus just kind of thrusts it up in there (note that real anal takes so much prepwork, do NOT do this irl pls), masochism (if you squint), dumbification, scratching, Sylus is secretly a softie and desperate for love.
Listen with me! ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ
You had no idea how you ended up like this. In the dragon's lair, your armor strewn all over the place, and both his and your cock tightly fisted in his large palm. It was pathetic. You were a grown man. A knight for pete's sake! But instead of thrusting your sword into his chest, you were doing a different kind of sword fighting at the moment.
"Sylus..." You moan out his name for what was probably the fiftieth time as he lazily drags his palm over your lengths once more. "Yes, sweet boy?" He asks back, voice rumbling back in that teasing manner that made you want to shove your dick down his throat.
You roll your hips once again, desperately trying to build up more friction. Sylus had kept the two of you on the edge for what seemed like hours now. Every time you or him got close to cumming, he'd only stop his movements. Denying the both of you release, driving the two of you deeper and deeper into the haze of pleasure.
A whine tears from your throat as he rubs his thumb over yours, spreading the pre cum that was beading at your tip. "Such pretty noises." Sylus growls out, panting above you as he tries to restrain himself from rutting his cock against yours.
You choke a sob back as you feel your orgasm rise with you once again. "Please Sylus. I can't take much more of this." You plead, voice shaking as tears well in your eyes and threaten to roll down and stain your cheeks. Sylus chuckles a laugh that matches every single gold coin, precious gemstone, and priceless artifact in his hoard.
"Begging already, puppy?" He asks, his tone taunting as he smirks down at you and you don't know if you want to smack him or kiss it off his stupidly handsome fucking face. "F-ucking hell, Sylus. Fuck me already, will you?" You all but growl out, so close to snapping if he didn't give you release soon.
Sylus raises a brow, halting his hand, making your cock ache for more of his touch. "So demanding." He growls out, shoving your legs apart and gripping his cock at the base with one hand while his other hand spreads you open for his view, your hole clenching around nothing. "Yet your hole is clenching so sluttily." He muses out, making your cheeks warm with embaressment.
Sylus presses the tip of his dick to your entrance, slowly pushing his way inside. You moan out, the stretch burning your walls but the pain felt so good. He keeps pushing until he bottoms out inside you, exhaling heavily, warm breath washing over your ear as he groans at how tight you feel.
"Tell me when I can move, puppy." He breathes out, thumb rubbing circles on your hipbone as he patiently waits for your body to adjust to his size so that he can comfortably move without hurting you. You lay beneath him, whimpering softly and clutching onto him as you wait for the pain to subside.
Eventually, you give a nod and Sylus begins to move slowly, watch your reactions closely, searching for any sign of pain or discomfort. You moan out softly as he moves inside you, only feeling pleasure with each roll of his hips. "That's it, baby. Feels good, doesn't it?" He coos out softly, making you nod. "Mm. M-More. Please." You breathe out, making that smug smirk return to his face.
"As you wish, little knight." He purrs, thrusting faster and harder into you, his hand reaching to wrap back around your length and pump his hand in time with his thrusts, drawing more lewd noises from your pretty throat.
It doesn't take long for him to turn you into a mess, the hours of edging quickly making you dumb on his cock. Drool slipping out your mouth, pupils blown, and nails scratching down his skin and scales. Sylus thrusts deeper inside you, hitting your prostate and making you cry out.
A growl falls from the dragon's throat at the noise and he focuses his attention on the spot, bullying it with the tip of his cock and making you cry out over and over again. Each noise bounces off the walls of his lair and all Sylus can think about is how your worth more than any item in his entire hoard, about how he'd give it all to you if it meant making you happy, if it meant making you his.
"Stay with me. Please. Don't wanna let you go." He pants out, face burrowing into the crook of you neck and nipping at the flesh, hoping to leave marks on your skin. You let out a breathy laugh that gets cut off with a choked moan as he plunges his tip into your warm walls again. "I-I'm a knight, Sylus. I have duties." You manage to choke out between noises.
Sylus all but whines at that answer, making your heart ache. "Then visit me when you can, little knight. My heart is yours." He says, tone pleading, almost vulnerable as his spare hand grasps your waist tenderly.
"F-uck. Alright. I'll visit when I can." You answer, one hand tangling in his white tresses as he ruts up into you. "Mm I'm close." He pants out, his hips stuttering. "Cum with me, puppy." He says, thumb rubbing over your tip, making your hips buck. The two of you tumble into ecstasy together, crying out each others names before collapsing into a tangle of limbs.
Gentle touches and words of praise follow afterwards. Sylus cleans you up and brings you water and snacks and you feed him and press gentle kisses to his collarbone. "Don't go back yet." He pleads softly, holding you closely and you smile softly. "Big bad dragon can't let his new toy go?" You tease but he holds you closer.
"You're not a toy. You're more valuable than my entire hoard." He murmurs, nuzzling into you, scenting you. Your heart melts at his words, your gaze softening as you brush his hair back. "Alright. I guess I can afford to stay for awhile before the King starts to wonder if you ate me alive." You say, making him huff out a laugh of amusement.
"Mm deal." He says softly, tail sneaking to tug you closer as you relax into him, hearts synching as the two of you eventually drift off in the heart of his hoard. But all Sylus can think about is how you've wormed into his heart in such a short amount of time. And for once... he was okay with that.
Male (subbot) reader, some sort of aftercare, slight feminization (good girl, maus = mouse (fem. term)), squirting, r is smaller + lighter than him, size kink, L bomb + established relationship, scheiße = fuck, implied overtsim. + another round (possible dubcon(?) not really imo), lwk short lol mb, art credit: bokettox_x on insta
YEAH, YOU ALWAYS MAKE ME WEAK, WHEN WE’RE SKIN TIGHT AND THERE’S NOTHING IN BETWEEN ultraviolet, dutch melrose
“Good girl.”
“Ugh—don’t, call me that..” your hole tightening around him tells a different story, despite your words and hot face. His hand squeezes your ass, pulling the cheek further apart to get a better view of his girth spreading you out. Fuck, how does he even fit?
König hums and leans forward, pressing himself further into you as he tilts your head to the side. Contrary to his dominating demeanor, his eyes bleed desperation and need, a plea with no words. “Why not? Hmm, my maus is so tiny compared to me. I love it, love you.”
His lips capture yours in a deep kiss, swallowing your moans at every swipe of his tongue. Thrusts are slow and deep, tip grinding into your prostate at every chance he can get, like it’s second nature (it is). A thick hand reaches around your hip—ignoring your leaking cock—palm flat near your navel where he knows he’ll be and pressing hard.
The sudden orgasm wracks through you with a choked moan, body trembling as white squirts onto the bedsheets below. Fuck! Has all those porno bl’s gotten to your head? There’s no fuckin’ way you squirted—you thought that was only in fiction! You can feel your face heat up from embarrassment.
“Scheiße…” König breathes while slowing to a stop, eyes wide while watching your form tremble from the aftershocks. Could you get any hotter?
“D-don’t get bigger—!” The hand on your hips doesn’t stop you from weakly pulling yourself off him—globs of lube and precum slipping out with his still hard cock—the pressure on your prostate getting too much.
“Little maus,” he muses, a hand reaching out to grab hold of your weak leg, “where you off to now?” He tugs lightly—as if you weighed next to nothing—just enough to pull you back in place and guiding you back into an arch, ass pressed against hips as his red tip leaks. “I haven’t finished yet.”
“Can’t believe I fuckin’ squirted…” you mumble into the fresh cleaned sheets (courtesy of him), eyeing König as he looks away sheepishly, perverse his physique. He wrings a damp cloth out, forcing that image out of his head less he wants to get hard again.
König mumbles apologizes as the cloth unconsciously makes you flinch in spite of him soaking it in warm water. He’s gentle around your ass and perineum, turning a blind eye to the fingerprints and hickeys he’s made, a feeling akin to embarrassment or shame (and pride) at the sight. He can only hope it doesn’t hurt too much.
“Don’t worry, you’ve made me proud.” Almost as if sensing his thoughts, you reassure him. König hesitates for a mere second, cloth hanging from his idle hand as a smug shy smile forms on his reddened face at the praise. You can’t help but grab his jaw and pepper his face with kisses. “God, you’re fuckin’ adorable, how’d I manage to keep you for myself.”
tengen lets out a laugh, a deep one that you feel vibrate deeper in you than his cock was at this moment.
“t-ten! ‘m sorry!” you whine out and he chuckles and unfolds his arms from where they were behind his head to give your ass a smack and watching the way it jiggles.
“that’s what you get for getting all touchy on giyu. one hashira isn’t enough for you, is it?” he says and you shake your head. the man was making you stand while bouncing on his cock, and if you knew just how big this man’s dick is, you’d know it’s nearly impossible.
his dick was stirring up your insides and your legs turning to lead, making your movements harder and harder while his maroon eyes watched every move of your hips and every ripple of your ass.
Hello! I enjoyed the two pillars and Kagaya reacting to Kagaya's son giving them friendship bracelets, May I request Sanemi, Obanai and Tengen react to receiving a friendship bracelet as well? Thank you!
---
In all honesty, I didn't expect so many people liking that one so much, but damn, I'm happy you do
Demon Slayer Masterlist
I hope this is what you wanted & you enjoy reading!
Sign of friendship #1
Sign of friendship #3
Obanai Iguro x male! reader
Sanemi Shinazugawa x male! reader
Tengen Uzui x male! reader
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Sign of friendship #2
(Y/N) Ubuyashiki was known to be a little, gentle and kind bundle of sunshine. His bright personality could make anyone forget all the gruesome parts of the world at least for a little while, giving them an opportunity to rest and lower their guard.
That’s why everyone was so fond of him, especially the hashira and his father Kagaya.
(Y/N) would often play around the whole place, wether it’d be at his father’s side or wherever one of the hashira’s were training, eating or meditating. The boy truly loved every single one of them. They made him feel safe and secure.
So, one day, he decided to let them know in a special way.
"You called for me, young master?", Obanai kneeled down infront of his master's son, both out of respect and to be more on eye level with the child. (Y/N) nodded cheerfully, his impatience visible by the way he bobbed up and down on the spot, "I have a very important item to give you, mister Obanai. One you shall keep safe.", he said in feign seriousness.
Obanai tended to take (Y/N) serious, no matter how much his instincts told him it was all meant in a playful manner. He couldn't risk disrespecting the young boy, after all.
So he held out his hands, "Of course." The boy's happy giggle urged the black-haired to listen to his gut feeling more, and play along and only act like he was tasked with protecting a valuable artifact. Obanai wasn't one to be playful, though, so he refused.
He watched (Y/N) pull out something out of his sleeve. Mismatched eyes widened as he realised it was merely a bracelet, clearly handmade. The chriping of the birds around them was all that accompanied the silence between the two for a few long seconds.
Laughing at the older one, (Y/N) let the bracelet fall in Obanai's open palm, "A sign of our friendship!", he cheered, "So don't loose it, hehe."
The hashira inspected the accessory. Upon further inspection he made out two eyes on one of the white beads. The beads were supposed to be a snake, making it's way around in a circle until it met its tail.
"Look! I have a matching one!", the boy held his wrist next to Obanai's hand, which was, indeed adorned by an identical bracelet. The black-haired wasn't sure what the correct response to this act of affection was, so he just slid the bracelet on, "Thank you, young master."
Sadly, (Y/N) missed out on the sight of Obanai gliding his fingers over the head of the snake bracelet with a fond smile under his bandages.
"Hm?", a tug on Sanemi's haori made him stop in his tracks as he was leaving the meet up spot after a hashira meeting, locking eyes with (Y/N) who was grinning up to him. "You are not dismissed yet!", the boy tried to pout, but his smile broke through very clearly.
Sanemi could only nod with lightly furrowed brows while (Y/N) dragged him out of sight of any bystanders in the vicinity.
The hashira wasn't at all worried about anything, he knew the boy was a playfull little one. Someone who loved to drag him along, often to play, which is what Sanemi thought was his mission right then. "I can't stay for long, young master. There is a mission I need to prepare for."
(Y/N) nodded along, promising it wouldn't take even five minutes.
As soon as (Y/N) was satisfied with their location, he let go of the hashira. Giggling to himself, he fished out something out of his pockets, with his back turned to the older one.
He quickly hid both his hands behind his back when he turned around, "Which hand?"
A guessing game? Yeah, Sanemi wasn't really happy about being pulled from his important work for something like this, but he humored him nonetheless, it was his master's son, after all.
"Your left."
Giggling even louder than before, the (Y/HC)-haired revealed his left hand, opening his palm in the process. There was a bracelet with thin, silver beeds, as well as a few pinwheel shaped ones.
"A bracelet?", the man took the item out of the other's hand, inspecting it further.
That's when (Y/N) revealed his other hand from behind his back, holding an identical bracelet in his palm, "As a sign of our friendship!" He urged Sanemi to put it on, like he did himself, grasping both his scarred hands in his own small ones. "Do you like it??", if it weren't for Sanemi's sturdy body, the boy would've made him loose his balance from how hard he was shaking his arms out of excitement.
The silver-haired didn't dare to let a sweat drop roll down his face, "Yes, of course. Thank you, young master."
Satisfied with the older one's answer, (Y/N) let out yet another giggle and went in for a short hug, before disappearing.
Alright. Time to prepare for the upcoming mission.
...After making sure to put this gift somewhere safe and secure.
The hint of a smile was present on Tengen's lips, his eyes closed as he sat on the grass, arms and legs crossed. Someone was approaching, someone small. He could feel their presence, slowly sneaking up on him. And the hashira played along, letting them come closer and closer.
Just to dodge to the side when they went to jump on him, catching them with one arm.
"Eek!", (Y/N) yelped, making Tengen laugh, "Nice try, but there's still plenty of room for improvement." (Y/N) pouted at him halfheartedly, climbing up his arm to wrap his arms around the older one's neck, "You say that, not noticing I succeeded in my mission!", he giggled out.
"Oh?", only then Tengen noticed something shiny on his thigh. He blinked at it, stunned, "Wow. You made more process than I thought!", he sent the boy clinging on him a big grin.
"Is this for me?", he then asked, picking up the accessory and gliding the pad of his thumb over the diamond-like beads. (Y/N) nodded wildly, "I saw the beads and immediately thought of you!" Tengen chuckled, gently shaking of the kid to slide on the bracelet, "It's perfect! So flashy and vibrant! You have a good eye, little one."
(Y/N) giggled happily, as the hashira patted his head, "Thank you! I made a matching one for myself. See? It's a sign of our friendship, you know?", he tugged on his sleeve to show off another bracelet, matching Tengen's.
"A sign of our friendship, huh?", the man smiled fondly at the handmade bracelet around his wrist. He will show off this one for sure.
the blessing. . .✩₊˚.⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧. . . : android house keeper x male reader
the blessings words. . .☠︎︎ ⋆₊ ♱. . . projecting my janitor ai addiction onto a fic , very indepth sexual thoughts but no sex , jerking off , blue blowing cum , crushing too harshly , jealousy issues , over heating , shirt circuiting as an orgasm , drunk kisses and decisions
background knowledge of the prayer. . .⋆˚₊ 𖤓☽˚.⋆. . . you bought a housekeeping android for the sake of keeping things clean while you're out at work, you get too tired to clean due to your creepy boss wanting to keep you at work to stare at your ass. while the world despises androids, throwing them out and mistreating them..you don't. now his code is breaking and he doesn't know what to do. you were also scammed
angels notes. . .𓆩𓆪.˚⊹. ࣪𓉸 ࣪⊹˚.. . . YES im a clanker lover😂😂. thinking on more alien bf lore trust. i never proofread. italics is a sort of flashback for this fic
tick.
tick.
tick.
he sat, clicking his heel on the carpet covered floor. your favorite TV show was already playing, the house was clean, food made, and now all he had to do was wait for you. he was heating up more than usual, and that only ever happened due to too many things built up in his storage. yet his photos were only filled with..photos of you. he had "taken you out" for ice cream once, and he saved about five photos of you enjoying the ice cream. other times it was you sleeping, watching TV— and just one, only one of you leaving the shower with a towel around your waist.
he was ashamed but he could never bring himself to delete it.
he was very confused with his feelings about you, even now he could hear the human voices yelling and throwing around propaganda and false rhetoric that may be true. hell, only reason you still had your job was because your boss was a damn pervert. he squeezed his fist, the LED on the side of his head flickering yellow before it went back to green. he didn't like your job very much. he could remember it like it was yesterday.
it was yesterday.
you kicked off your shoes off, groaning and slouching before you were even fully inside. it let him indicate today would be a warm bubble bath with salts rather than a quick hot shower. "shit..what time is it?" he blinked, "it is about two in the morning, it is partly cloudy with a chance of rain in about thirty minutes. you came home at the right time." he came beside you, taking off your blazer and hanging it on the coat rack.
he adjusted your shoes, fluffed up a pillow before you sat down. "i assume something has happened today?" he was calm, with a monotone edge to his voice. it took only two seconds before you were pissed off. "you're damn right– stupid piece of shit." you said referring to your boss.
"the fucker is bold, so bold he thought he could squeeze my ass like im a whore on sale." your head came to your hands. "can you believe this shit?!" he could believe it unfortunately, this wasn't the first time. he gripped at his pants tightly, jaw twitching. "i apologize for him. you didn't deserve that, it's highly inappropriate." sure he's looked at your ass too, who wouldn't? but that's the thing, only he should.
he shook his head, huffing through his nose. you were still out, later than usual. hell, he may have some time to himself. he wasn't a human, he wasn't supposed to have time to himself hit he did and he has. to be fair, even he was a big fat scam. he was supposed to be a sex android, but housekeeping androids cost more. so, he was sold with a penis and a pretty big one at that.
you didn't need to know what he did with it, or that he even had it. no android except sex androids had mock genitals. sometimes he'd blame his original programming for the thoughts he had but that just wasn't it. even a sex android didn't have these feelings, the things they said and did was all just program.
but program wasn't him spreading his legs right now. wasn't him closing his eyes and going through his photo files of you and his mouth falling open when his dick twitched– fingers grazing the tip. "oh..oh my.." he sighed, eyes fluttering underneath closed lids as he stroked slowly. he would think of you so often when he couldn't have you. think of you bent over, him fucking you to oblivion but you praising him. praising him like you always did , fuck he loved for that.
"i would have never gotten to this with you, good job."
"you did well, thank you."
"such a good boy."
he flinched, knee twitching yet he couldn't stop. he wanted your nails marking his back, his blue blood could trace it and he would look at them just as proof of your love to him. your voice rang through—"mhm— mh! just like that, fuck yeah.." he would think of your voice like a constant practiced prayer. he had a dirty mind, and even loved when you would moan from bumping your hip into something. it was the closest he got, he couldn't help himself he was pathetic.
his hips bucked forward, your name whimpered from his lips needily. "so close , so close , please let me.." he pretended his hand was yours too. wanted you kneeling between his legs and controlling when he got to feel good and when he got to cum.
his body felt a big jolt, a snap of electricity and a bit of a shirt circuit. he stilled, eyes opening and flickering down at the drippy sort of blue goo that splurted from his tip. it was so difficult to clean up, he wasn't a big fan of the glowing sticky liquid but hell did it feel good.
the door clicked, a jingle of keys, and your tired voice.
I had this Idea for a PJO fanfic. Percy Jackson x son of Mnemosyne reader[Romantic]. Reader being the son of the god/titan of memories reader is able to manipulate others memories,But with that in others memories reader is essentially just a blur, He's there but not all too memorable. The thing is reader has been one of the most pivotal parts of all the quest percy has been on, yet no one seems to remember who he is and or appreciate what he has done to help, not even Percy
Make this especially angsty 😈. You can decide if theres a happy ending or not
This was inspired by Forget me not from X-men. Feel free to delete this if you dont want to do this
memories away
[ percy jackson x son of mnemosyne!reader ]
[ uncanon from the original // hopefully i write angst well …. also i adore this idea anon im begging you to come back sometime soon 🤤 // can you tell one of my biggest fears is being forgotten …. // trying a new writing style , if you can please give feedback !! // probably will turn this into a series cause i lowkey adore this idea ..! ]
[ mentions of suicide + attempted suicide ,, depressive, self deprecating thoughts ,, slight social anxiety ,, memory issues // memory loss ,, heavy angst with eventual comfort ,, internalized homophobia ( goes both ways ) ,, percy x annabeth briefly ,, mentions of sex and sex // wet dreams ,, HEAVY yearning ,, unreciprocated love ( at first ) ]
[ this author will cry if you put it’s work into ai — :-( ]
who were you really?
what makes a person a person other than the flesh on their bones and the blood that runs through their veins; what makes someone memorable?
you didn’t have an answer. often times you wonder what it would be like if people’s gaze didn’t glaze over you whenever they looked around. you likes the solitude, but the thought still lingers. you liked being alone, but the loneliness that came with was something that slowly gnawed at you from the inside out.
you still remember your first quest, trailing behind percy and annabeth, watching them talk as you existed to them as much as ghosts did. the world always seemed to float by slowly, almost taunting you and your lack of self.
you often linger. people never acknowledged you. never even mentioned you. never once that you’ve heard your name from anyone else but maybe chiron or even yourself. people speak of your cabin like a myth — people speak as though the only son of mnemosyne was a mere myth to be told by the camp’s blazing bonfire.
as lonely and rather miserable as you were, still fell in love. fell in love for a boy, no less.
could you even imagine yourself with him? your awkwardness, inability to join in conversation; people barely even remembered you — you doubted that percy, in all his memorable glory, would remember you of all people.
besides, he wasn’t into men. he was in a relationship with the athena girl — annabeth chase, you remember. you always did.
sometimes, you spent your days silently following percy. oh how desperately you wanted to go up to him. how desperate you wanted to feel his skin against your own; how you wished to stare into his beautiful sea green eyes. you wanted to lie with him, feeling him — all of him.
but you could never be her. her with the blond hair that she always seemed to have in a ponytail — her with those witty words of her, her gorgeously cloudy grey eyes.
he looked at her in a way that struck a nasty feeling of envy within you. to be looked at like that — people barely even looked at you in the first place.
no other gaze would matter, however, so long as it was percy’s.
you didn’t hate annabeth, per say, but the feeling was rather similar to it.
she sat surrounded, you sat alone. she was adored, you weren’t even a thought in people’s mind.
you sat alone, like always, in your lonesome cabin. you shed not a single tear. you thought not twice about your decision as you held on tightly to the sealed bottle in your hand.
a life unworthy living, is that truly a way to live?
a life not full of suffering but instead slight torture — is that really how you wanted to live?
your hands shook as you slowly uncapped the pill bottle in your hand. you took your time — not from hesitation, but to savor your last moments of the land if gaea.
forever, an eternal sprite, drifting aimlessly through the fields of asphodel sounded like a much better fate than to be forgotten. better to free in death rather than trapped in life.
this life you led, could it really even be considered a life? you awoke, your daily tasks past you in a painfully slow pace, and you slept. over. and over. and over again. bond to a life of nothing but drifting.
in a way, you were already like the spirits you longed to be like in asphodel, the only difference being your human body.
you were tired — yet you needed not physical sleep.
tiling the small, white capsules into your palm, you stared for a moment before setting the bottle down. "please," you began in a small prayer, voice weak and small, "if there are any after me, let their fate be unlike mine. may life be kind to them, may they live with joy and not this prison of solitude."
and yet just as you were just about to consume the white tablets, a rapping at your cabin door startled you. startled you so much the pills fell from your hands. quickly, you gathered the pills and hid both the fallen and not underneath your pillow.
confused and with trembling legs, you arose, taking slow steps towards the entrance. finding yourself at the door, a slight nervousness came over you. people rarely ever gave you a second thought even if they did remember, so why now? why now when you were about to rid yourself of all your pain.
taking a breath, you cracked the door open and your heart beat spiked once you saw percy at your door, clad in his armor for capture the flag. why was he here? why did he come so conveniently?
his messy brown hair curtained his face so perfectly, face having been sculpted aphrodite herself, his mother’s likeliness carved into every cell and yet his gorgeous eyes pierced through you in a way that reminded you of poseidon’s charm yet simultaneously the danger that lied within the veins and pumped through him.
"can you play capture the flag with us? my team needs just one more player — please.. not that you have to, though," he asked of you, and you stayed silent for a moment. then two. then it seemed like eternity had passed between the two of you.
"I.. I wouldn’t know what to do," you murmured finally, your eyes locking for not even a second before shifting your eyes away.
"it’s fine, don’t worry! just follow my lead, okay, I’ll show you how to play," he smiled, and you swore that your heart skipped a beat.
and then you remembered that you were just a last choice. only picked because you were the only to pick.
"okay.. just, just let me change," you told him before shutting the door and walking back to your bed and sitting on it.
the percy jackson at your door.
without missing a beat, you grabbing the pills from under your pillow and put them back in the bottle before going to look for more suitable clothing. maybe today was not your day after all.
call me rick riordan the way i be making cliff hangers …. part two is soon to come dearest reader :-) ,, genuinely i adored writing this, this is like one of my favorite writing projects now (others than that other one heh ….) but anyways, feel free to request other things about son of mnemosyne!reader .. this was much longer than i expected it to be geulp.
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