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#and it’s certainly not just a matter of going in and clicking
runawaymarbles · 2 years
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I am not particularly precious about my work and I know full well that this is probably a translation thing and yet I can’t stop gritting my teeth every time a client says “click a photo” or “take some snaps”
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arlathen · 1 month
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the brainrot has gotten deep enough that i now have professors solavellan modern au on the mind again.
#amadea had him in undergrad and i think they very much clicked. solas is the kind of prof who treats you as an equal#if you are willing to admit when youre wrong and back up your points with evidence then he always takes you seriously#hes also very smart and a subject matter expert so. like good luck holding your ground.#but anyway. yeah amadea was the kind of mf to pop by his office because something from the reading struck her#and theyd talk for an hour and she'd walk away with three books from his collection with sticky note tabs marking articles/chapters#and she would not only read them but she would reference them in discussions during class#he was almost certainly her thesis advisor for her masters at the same university#she goes somewhere else for her doctorate probably. theyre still friends though. they hear from each other sporadically.#solas is notoriously bad about checking his email and does not use social media so sometimes he'll see she sent him something two weeks ago#ANYWAY once she's ~doctor lavellan~ she does go back to her alma mater and is able to get a job teaching there#and then the relationship gets. weird. because that mentor/mentee barrier is still there#but also theyre colleagues. its normal for them to go out for coffee or drinks or parties together.#he always treated her like an equal but now she actually is. they walk across campus together and everyone else sees two professors#the professionalism barrier is still there but not as strong. and they are both still the same people. they spend hours upon hours#just standing around talking. i feel like in this universe everyone else knows theyre in love before they do#more evidence the brainrot is bad: im writing tag essays again#carly.txt#carly's ocs#oc: amadea
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absentlyabbie · 10 months
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seriously, though. i work in higher education, and part of my job is students sending me transcripts. you'd think the ones who have the least idea how to actually do that would be the older ones, and while sure, they definitely struggle with it, i see it most with the younger students. the teens to early 20s crowd.
very, astonishingly often, they don't know how to work with .pdf documents. i get garbage phone screenshots, sometimes inserted into an excel or word file for who knows what reason, but most often it's just a raw .jpg or other image file.
they definitely either don't know how to use a scanner, don't have access to one, or don't even know where they might go for that (staples and other office supply stores sometimes still have these services, but public libraries always have your back, kids.) so when they have a paper transcript and need to send me a copy electronically, it's just terrible photos at bad angles full of thumbs and text-obscuring shadows.
mind bogglingly frequently, i get cell phone photos of computer screens. they don't know how to take a screenshot on a computer. they don't know the function of the Print Screen button on the keyboard. they don't know how to right click a web page, hit "print", and choose "save as PDF" to produce a full and unbroken capture of the entirety of a webpage.
sometimes they'll just copy the text of a transcript and paste it right into the message of an email. that's if they figure out the difference between the body text portion of the email and the subject line, because quite frankly they often don't.
these are people who in most cases have done at least some college work already, but they have absolutely no clue how to utilize the attachment function in an email, and for some reason they don't consider they could google very quickly for instructions or even videos.
i am not taking a shit on gen z/gen alpha here, i'm really not.
what i am is aghast that they've been so massively failed on so many levels. the education system assumed they were "native" to technology and needed to be taught nothing. their parents assumed the same, or assumed the schools would teach them, or don't know how themselves and are too intimidated to figure it out and teach their kids these skills at home.
they spend hours a day on instagram and tiktok and youtube and etc, so they surely know (this is ridiculous to assume!!!) how to draft a formal email and format the text and what part goes where and what all those damn little symbols means, right? SURELY they're already familiar with every file type under the sun and know how to make use of whatever's salient in a pinch, right???
THEY MUST CERTAINLY know, innately, as one knows how to inhale, how to type in business formatting and formal communication style, how to present themselves in a way that gets them taken seriously by formal institutions, how to appear and be competent in basic/standard digital skills. SURELY. Of course. RIGHT!!!!
it's MADDENING, it's insane, and it's frustrating from the receiving end, but even more frustrating knowing they're stumbling blind out there in the digital spaces of grown-up matters, being dismissed, being considered less intelligent, being talked down to, because every adult and system responsible for them just
ASSUMED they should "just know" or "just figure out" these important things no one ever bothered to teach them, or half the time even introduce the concepts of before asking them to do it, on the spot, with high educational or professional stakes.
kids shouldn't have to supplement their own education like this and get sneered and scoffed at if they don't.
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literal-bot-account · 7 months
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y'know, back when I used Reddit, if you found some hateful content of any sort, it wasn't that hard to report it. You clicked the "Report" button, selected "Hateful Content" out of the wide variety of options available, and then clicked the "Submit" button. I did this pretty often, because some of the communities I was in attracted rather unsavory characters as a side effect.
Do you know what happened next? Next, I received an automated message that said basically "Hey, thanks for reporting This Content (link to reported content). We've received your report and will review it shortly." Usually, a day or two later, you'd receive another message in your inbox saying "Thanks again for reporting. We found this content in violation of our TOS and have removed it." Sure enough, if you followed the link back to whatever you reported, it would be gone.
It was that easy. No explaining yourself, no explaining yourself again but differently, no redirect to a new tab, you didn't even need to know the specifics of what did or didn't violate TOS. No matter what happened, they would write back and tell you what was going on. If the reported content didn't violate TOS, they would tell you.
When I hopped over here full-time, I continued that reporting habit, thinking it'd be largely the same experience. I have had complete and utter radio silence from @staff on every single report I've ever filed. Have I been making a difference? Is my voice being considered? Who knows! But it certainly hasn't felt like it so far.
At least now I know those reports were going straight into the garbage, rather than just having to wonder.
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daincrediblegg · 6 months
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no you know what I'm going to scream about the stuff I talked about in the tags of this post publicly
I'm tired of the well-meaning "don't feel bad if your work only gets 20 notes your genius is what counts and do it for you!" bullshit. I've had a good handful of friends who have straight up DEACTIVATED in recent months because their work was not getting reblogged AT ALL. No, it wasn't from lack of not being well-liked, no it wasn't from lack of trying to make sure it was getting out there to the people they knew would engage with it. It was because no matter how much they were praised privately for their work, when push came to shove, absolutely NOBODY reblogged it and gave it the audience that it was due, and I'm tired of people shoving the "unsung genius" narrative as an excuse for it. Nothing excuses that. And the boop event really proved that.
because I know given the opportunity, indiscriminately pressing a button (sometimes 10 thousand times, as I did) is not beyond this website's capability. y'all loved doing that. and look at what it wrought. nothing but love and affection and happiness. just from a couple of quick clicks of a little paw button. sure. nobody knew who you booped but the other person (which is how likes used to work on this website, btw). there was an element of anonymity to it. but that is kind of the core of this website that no other social media platform still has: the ability to be anonymous. and hyper-curating a blog on here like you might on twitter or instagram to project an image is simply not viable. and hey. you wanna know a secret: literally nobody cares what you post or whether it goes with the "theme" of your blog or not. yeah. I know. CRAZY concept in this day and age. but literally. I myself have reblogged things that have had nothing to do with whatever I am currently fixated by and you know what happened to my follower count? not a damn thing. in fact, I actively try to reblog things specifically BECAUSE it's my friends who made them (even though I'm not always good at KEEPING UP WITH HOW MUCH THEY POST @prismatica-the-strange will NEVER GO UNRECOGNIZED by me).
And you know what fucking sucks? I have to deal with this too. surprise right? you ever wonder why I reblog fics or art I post like 20 times the day that I post them? do you ever wonder why I ask about tag lists and beg for asks all the time? IT'S BECAUSE EVEN I GET LIKE. 5 LIKES ON THE THINGS I POST. AND THE REST OF THE REBLOGS ARE MINE SO I CAN MAKE SURE THAT PEOPLE WHO WANT TO SEE WHAT I MAKE GET TO SEE IT. and I say that knowing that I'm certainly not an unpopular blog, or an unpopular writer. I know that people love the stories that I create. Hell, half of the people that I've talked to about lady terror have told me that they consider her to be canon (AND EVEN SOME!! THOUGHT SHE WAS!!! WITHOUT EVEN HAVING WATCHED THE SHOW! WHICH IS STILL SO SO WILD TO ME!!!) But especially in the last 4 years (which really dates this phenomenon), my posts, no matter how well received they've been amongst people I've talked to about them directly, I still go into the notes and at least half (often more than half) are MY reblogs to make sure people saw what I posted. and it happens every single time, and I can't tell you how much it crushes me considering that it used to be that I would be able to post it only once, and people would reblog it sometimes even HUNDREDS of times.
It's not about popularity. it never has been. it's not about anxiety. or shifting website cultures. even if you lurk, the simple fact is, that if you want people to keep making what you love. you have to reblog. your theme won't suffer because you reblogged a fanfiction that you really admire. your posting won't be ruined because you reblogged some fanart from someone in a different fandom. really. I promise. and if people do unfollow you for that? who needs em. followers come and go but you should NEVER have to cater to them. on this website it has ALWAYS been the other way around. lean into it. make it yours. put stuff you ACTUALLY WANT to be seen and that you love and appreciate on your blog. no matter how old it is, how new it is, no matter how niche or off-theme it is.
so please. if you really want to show your appreciation for someone's work? you reblog. it's really as easy as that. check the tags. add some when you reblog if you like. but please for the love of god reblog. it's as easy as booping and even more rewarding for the people who you reblog from. if you want to let someone know that their work is genius and appreciate it? show it. reblog. then DM them if you're too nervous to say what you want to say but not in a public forum. but for christ's sake. REBLOG.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months
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friction
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words: 1.7k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, semi public sex, server!reader, p in v sex, unprotected sex, workplace romance
“alright.” you clap your hands together. “where is my trainee?”
“hey.” your eyes widen as you take rafe in, his arms crossed over his wide chest, biceps bulging against the sleeves of the uniform polo.
“wh-what?” you take a staggering step back. 
“won't be here long.” rafe says quickly. “just… got in trouble with my dad.” his voice turns softer, but not for your sake, simply for his pride as he looks around.
“and so you had to get a job here of all places?” you question.
“most fitting for punishment. he said if i last two months then he knows i can commit to something.”
“so you're going to be working here… for two months. great.” you try to add some cheer to your voice, but it certainly fails. it was hard enough when rafe would come in to dine at the country club, having to serve alongside him will certainly be hell.
not that he does anything to intentionally upset you, his very presence gets you frustrated. from the second he walked in and you saw him for the first time, your face got hot and flushed and you had to hide in the walk in freezer to cool yourself down.
“so, where do we start?” rafe asks.
you snap out of whatever thoughts you were having. “your section.” you state, the unofficial leader of the servers, having worked at the country club for by far the longest of all the staff, even outranking your current manager in seniority.
--
“rafe, you're at a month and a half, you're so close.” josh says, eyes glancing between the two of you from the other side of the managers desk. “and y/n, you know better than to argue in front of customers.”
josh stands, hands on his hips. “sasha and i are going to take over your sections while you two… work out whatever is going on. just talk it out then get back on the floor.”
he walks out without another word, leaving you in the office alone with rafe.
“you made me look so fucking stupid in front of my regulars.” you grumble. you asked for something very simple. for rafe to bring your table sparkling waters, and he took them tap instead.
“i didn't know.” rafe huffs back, not turning to fully look at you. “sorry, but you still got your fucking tip.”
“just pay attention next time. i know you don't give a shit about this job but some of us need this paycheck to fucking live.”
“alright, i said fucking sorry.”
“alright.”
you both sit in silence, the time stretching out between the two of you. 
“you're still mad.” rafe states.
“im just… frustrated.” you sigh, wishing you could pinpoint why your stomach always tightens when you're around rafe, why no matter how many shifts you work with him he puts you on edge, makes you act different.
“sounds like you could-” rafe cuts himself off.
you snap your head towards him. “some what?”
“i was gonna say some dick.” rafe turns his eyes back forward, even though there's nothing to look at but an empty wall.
“some dick couldn't satisfy me, you guys never make me cum.” you say it to upset rafe, hopefully dig into some insecurity he holds, but rafe just smirks.
“i could make you cum. and then we'd both be less frustrated.”
“both?” you question.
“yeah ‘cause you'd get your o and id finally get to fuck you.”
“i guess the only thing stopping us is locking the office door.” 
you both move rapidly, hands meeting at the same time your lips do as you turn the lock and hear the satisfying click of confirmation. rafe instantly presses you against the door, his mouth devouring yours as his body presses in close.
all rational thoughts go out the window. if you were in your right mind, if rafe didn't drive you so crazy, you would never do something so brazen.
rafe reaches down, one hand delving under your assigned polo shirt while the other grips your ass.
you moan against his lips as his hand covers your bra, fingers quickly pushing the material out of the way to get at your nipple, his palm rubbing against you so perfectly you have no doubt in your mind of how skilled rafe is.
“fuck.” you gasp when his hand gripping your bum moves, somehow managing to get your belt off as he pulls it away, undoing your slacks to reach into your underwear.
he finds your clit and taps at it, teasingly, but with just enough constant stimulation to keep you from crying out as you kiss him, pulling back only to look at his face, the way his eyes have dropped and darkened with pleasure, his mouth pink and wet from your kisses.
“don't stop.” his voice is grisly as he begs, and you lean in and continue to kiss, tongue pushing into rafes mouth and taking dominance, but it's all for naught as his finger on your clit so effortlessly controls your entire body, reading your reactions and what you like most as he rubs and touches.
“need you shirtless.” you tell rafe, tugging at his collar. “take it off.”
rafe doesn't want to pull away, it doesn't seem worth it, but instead of continuing to kiss him, you pull his collar more until he has no choice but to unmold himself from your body and take a step back to toss off his shirt, watching as you do the same, revealing one cup of your bra pushed down to reveal your pert nipple.
rafe moves quick to press his lips against your breast, hands working to undo your bra before he's back inside your pants, circling around your entrance and spreading your wetness up to your clit before continuing to rub, hearing your soft moans and whimpers as he switches to your other breast.
“need your cock.” you beg, but rafe isn't ready yet. he knows it will be the ultimate end to your mutual suffering that was just used to hide your bodies attraction, sexual frustration boiling over.
as much as rafe likes sucking your nipple into his mouth and feeling how warm and soft your skin is, he's desperate to move back to your mouth and swallow more of your moans, not so they don't get heard by your coworkers, but so they can become his and his alone.
“on the desk.” rafe pulls away, and a devious smile comes to your lips, knowing you're about to get what you want.
you push your pants and underwear down your hips in one go as you sit on the desk, glad josh keeps everything clear and clean as you spread your legs, rafes eyes dropping to your pussy.
you chuckle as his tongue darts out to lick his lips, but he doesn't have time for a taste as his hands begin to work on his own clothing until rafe is just as naked as you.
he pauses for a moment, standing a foot away from the desk, his cock standing up, calling out for your pussy. he gives you a look, and you know it's a question. a question you would have raged at fifteen minutes ago but you now know is what you've needed this whole time.
“yes.” you tell rafe. simple. one word. one syllable for rafe to surge forward, his arms around your body as he captures you in another kiss and pushes his cock forward against your entrance, burying himself in one smooth motion.
your head tips back, but rafe follows, hips snapping forward and instantly picking up pace, feeling how wet and warm you are, so good that he can't help his loose tongue.
“feels so good.” rafe grumbles. “can't believe we took so fucking long to do this.”
“maybe if you weren't such a-” you gasp at a particularly hard thrust, your sassy comeback stopping halfway through and quickly leaving your mind all together.
“mhm, that's what i thought.” rafe chuckles, but he's barely handling himself better than you, forcing himself to stay somewhat quiet when really he wants to shout your name for everyone to hear, to know he's claiming you.
“t-touch me again.” you tell rafe, and he knows what you mean, yet he's not ready yet, not ready for this to end, so instead one of his hands moves to your breast while he continues to thrust.
you let out a little growl, tempted to reach down yourself and rub your own clit if rafe is taking so damn long to do it, but both your hands are certainly needed to stabilize yourself against the desk.
“perfect pussy.” rafe says, stating it like it's a fact. it almost makes you laugh, but there's not a hit of humor in his voice, his eyes completely glazed over at this point.
he finally reaches down to your clit, beginning his motions from earlier this time with his thumb, remembering exactly what you like and what gets the biggest moan out of you.
you pussy clenches around rafe and he can tell you won't last long, his own speed increasing as his thumb runs so vigorously he's worried only for a second that he's being too rough before remembering who he's with.
“f-fuck!” you squeal. “rafe!”
your back arches as you cum, entire body shaking as your arms collapse underneath you, falling back against the desk as rafe continues to fuck you through your orgasm.
the feeling of your pussy constricting around him sends him over the edge, filling you up with a grunt and a mumble of your name.
“shit.” you gasp, sitting up as you regain some control of your body. “josh is going to be pissed.”
“hey, he told us to work out our frustrations.”
--
“happy six months.” you poke rafes side, making him flinch and then frown at you as he drops a fork in a clatter back onto the table.
“can't believe i could have gotten away with just two.” rafe sighs dramatically.
“hm, part of me thinks that you purposely got in trouble again so you had to stay working here.” 
“now why would i do that?” rafe smirks, very obviously checking you out, looking past your gleaming name tag declaring your newly promoted position as manager to the cleavage peeking from underneath your top.
“meet me in my office when you're done rolling silverware.” you take a look around the country club restaurant, it's certainly not busy and your other staff can handle it as the night is coming to a close anyways.
“am i getting written up?” rafe questions, smile still on his face.
“no… but if you're quick you will get ridden.”
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ddollipop · 11 months
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CURB THIS SICKNESS. . . ! — ( SOFT YANDERE!PLAGUE DOCTOR OC X READER. )
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#. synopsis! — there's a virus outside that's snuffed out the lights of many. . . and lucian refuses to let you meet such a miserable fate .
#. contains! — f!reader , explicitly nsfw content , multiple orgasms , vaginal fingering , implications of paranoia , cum swallowing , oral sex , cunnilingus , blowjob , vaginal sex , obsessive behavior , frequent usage of endearment terms (love, darling, angel) , missionary position , bathing , established relationship , slight choking , slight hair pulling , creampie , biting .
#. word count! — 5.1k .
#. oc carrd! — click here to find more information on lucian + other original characters of mine that i might write for in the future! xx .
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When the virus began to spread in all directions from its alleged location of origin, —you were certain you’d be dead before winter. If not from sickness, then certainly from another disease, or at the hands of some twisted maniac just searching for someone to slaughter that nobody would care enough to miss. You thought it was only a matter of time before you succumbed to hunger or thirst or the changing chill of autumn, or maybe something completely different: but something was bound to happen, and you were sure of it.
And it did. . . But it was nothing like what you had in mind.
Lucian may have seemed like something out of a horror story passed down through generations, still clad in his working attire the night he scooped you up in his arms from a shabby alleyway like a stray kitten, but he was surprisingly gentle (and perhaps unusually quiet.) He wasn’t very talkative, but he cared for you in a way you were completely unaccustomed to, —prepared you a warm meal, brewed you chamomile tea, ran you a hot bath, and gave you a place to sleep for the night. He said you were slightly fevered and a bit malnourished, but all things considered, it could have been worlds worse.
“You’re lucky,” he hummed, a gloved hand smoothing over your jaw, “the pestilence hasn’t taken hold of you.”
Even back then, that wasn’t why you felt lucky. . . No, much to the contrary, you felt lucky because this man had taken you in without expecting anything of you in return, and he sought to keep you safe from the rot of the outside world. Thus, little by little, you stopped caring much about going out there. 
His place is a bit quaint for two, but it’s homey, and it smells perpetually of lavender. Over time, he’s shifted the sleeping arrangements, and now you rest in his arms each night; about as close as one can get to being a lover without having the label.
A part of you is sure you could get it if you asked, but to you, it doesn’t matter much. At the end of each day, he comes home to you, and that’s what counts. You take care of the housework while he’s away (not that there’s ever much to do.) For as odd as he is, his living space is free of most things, —no trinkets unrelated to his work (which you are not keen on touching), and he’s meticulous about picking up after himself and keeping all his items in order, so your unofficial duties are few and far between. Otherwise, the rest boils down to cooking meals, washing clothes, and keeping yourself entertained while he’s away. . . Like some kind of glorified trophy wife.
And sure, this will probably get old eventually, but for now, this is what you’re working with. He likes to have you close and to know where you are, —to know that you’re safe and not out getting infected by anyone or anything. If you’re at his home, you’re safe from all the filth of the outside world, and heaven knows it’s so nice to come home and lie next to a body so utterly unmarred by the grime of society.
You’re sure once the virus has stilled, he’ll ease up.
But tonight is not that night. Lucian all but stumbles through the door, and you can hear his rapid breathing through the long, beak-like shape of his mask. He seems startled and frantic, and you rush over, a concerned expression crossing your features.
“Lucian? Are you alright?” You ask, reaching out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
In an instant, he snatches your wrist and grabs for the other, holding one in either hand. His grip is fervent, but far from painful, and you become more confused the longer he goes without explaining the state he’s found himself in.
“Lucian—”
“Darling,” he cuts you off, “you mustn’t get near the door.”
“Okay,” you nod in compliance, “but why?”
“The pestilence has taken hold of this city,” he replies. “The air out there, you wouldn’t believe the thickness of that putrid aroma. It’s suffocating.”
Before you can ask if there’s something you can do to quench his worries, he tugs you away from the entrance and into the bathroom. He removes his gloves and sets them aside, reaching down to begin running a warm bath. Then he looks to you, almost expectantly.
“Strip, please,” he encourages, —saying it like he’s desperate for the act, albeit not necessarily under the context you’d prefer of him.
“Lucian—”
“Darling,” he hisses, “please, do as I ask of you.”
His bare hands cup your cheeks.
“Please,” he repeats.
It’s hard to deny him when he asks like that and has been so good to you, and it’s not as if he’s asking for a lot. He’s just having a bad night, and if scrubbing yourself down will help ease his mind a bit, you’re willing to put in that sliver of extra effort for his sake.
Lucian sighs in relief as you begin to disrobe.
“Thank you,” he comments. “I really don’t have a clue what I’d do if you fell ill. . . I don’t think my heart could handle such a thing.”
You slip the last of your clothing off and step gingerly into the filling tub. It’s not long enough to stretch out in, so you bunch yourself up neatly to fit the space and look up at him once more.
“I feel fine,” you assure.
“I’m glad,” he replies. “Even so, it’s much better to air on the side of caution. The human body is a dangerously fickle thing, and it can be incredibly fragile. I’ve seen as much firsthand more times than I can count. In its infancy, this virus is little more than a common cold, but progresses into something fatal at a rapid pace.”
You simply nod as he kneels next to the tub, rolling his sleeves up.
“Your breathing is ragged, Lucian,” you state, “you should take that mask off and get some fresh air.”
“After,” he answers quickly.
He reaches for the half-used lavender soap bar and lathers it on his palms, then reaches out to smooth the suds over your arms and neck. His motions are a little rough and all too urgent. This is far from the first time he’s accompanied you for a bath, but it is the first time he’s ever done so and been this aggressive in his approach (if only as a result of his own anxiety.)
For the time being, he seems to avoid your breasts, instead reaching for one of your legs to hike it up out of the water. He repeats this process with the other, cleaning you until he seems satisfied. When he makes no move to revisit your chest, you take the soap from his hand and lather it yourself, placing it in its previous spot before leaning back slightly and allowing your hands to travel where you’d have liked for his to go.
Lucian watches but doesn’t touch. Your fingertips nudge at your nipples, feeling them harden under the minstrations, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth. If nothing else, he should be getting the hint by now.
Surprisingly, you’ve never had sex with him in all the months you’ve spent curled up in his arms, sleeping in his bed. He’s watched you take care of yourself on a number of occasions, has helped with his fingers another few times, —and allowed you to wrap your hand around him once a few weeks prior; but anything beyond that has seemed to be off limits. You’ve chalked it up to his shyness, or perhaps his distaste for human contact as a result of the pestilence; but tonight feels distinctly different.
Even in his previous state of frazzlement, Lucian seems all too content to sit back and watch you fondle your own breasts, soapy fingers clutching and releasing in tandem. You’ve always liked for him to watch you do things like this. Though his mask obscures the view of his face, you just know his eyes are trained on you, soaking up every movement, and you like to think he’s drooling at the way you grope yourself for his enjoyment (and for your own.)
“Lucian?” You prompt, half-lidded eyes glancing over to him.
His shoulders straighten as you say his name.
“You’re very beautiful,” he says, words almost too muffled by the mask to be made out.
“You think so?” You smirk a bit.
“I do.”
Ah, but that’s nothing new, and it’s nothing he hasn’t shared with you before. On the very night he took you in and washed your hair, he smoothed his gloved hands against your scalp and mumbled about how pretty you looked, even with dirt still caked on your skin. Even covered in filth from the alleyways you’d been sleeping in, he thought you were nothing less than stunning, —a real vision to behold, and he’s never skimped on such compliments.
You pause for a moment, reaching out to grasp for his hands. He allows the gesture, though he seems a bit confused, leaning in closer to the rim of the tub as you position him to your liking.
“Do you think I feel feverish?” You inquire, placing one of his hands on your neck and another on one of your breasts.
He makes no move to pull away, firming his grip up almost instantaneously, as if he’s been itching to feel you this way.
“Perhaps a bit warm,” he mumbles, taking a moment to roll your nipple between two nimble fingers, “but body temperature is known to rise during times of. . .” he trails off, clears his throat, then utters: “arousal.”
You trail your nails down his arm, letting your head tip back again. His hands are a bit calloused, but they feel so good against your skin, and you let a few moans slip past your lips. It’s not often he touches you like this without his gloves on, but the flesh-on-flesh contact is electrifying.
“Not to worry you, but I do feel a bit strange,” you huff slightly.
Through the slightly tinted bath water, Lucian can still watch your hand as it travels between your thighs.
“I’m just a throbbing mess,” you hum, giving him a pointed stare; “but you’ll take care of me. . . Right, Doctor?”
It may just be your imagination, but you could swear you heard his breathing shudder at that request. You’ve never been this forward with him, but something apart from the facial expression that’s still hidden away tells you that he likes where this is going. His fingers clamp down on the column of your throat, squeezing just enough to make taking in air a bit more of a struggle, but not anywhere near hard enough to be fatal.
The bit about being a throbbing mess was by no means an exaggeration on your part, so you take matters into your own fingers for the time being, drawing circles on your clit beneath the water.
“Of course,” he finally finds the voice to agree, “—I’d do anything to keep you from feeling unwell.”
That is what you like to hear.
“Anything?”
“Anything.” 
His grip tightens on your throat again, for emphasis, and with that, he seems to come slightly undone.
“Darling, that’s why I’ve demanded you stay here in my home, —our home. It’s safe here, free of contaminants and filth and anything that could cause you harm,” he says, the words spilling out like he’s been holding them back since he first set his sights on you.
“The world outside is ill, not just this rotten city. I’m working tirelessly to combat this pestilence, but as things stand now, the safest place you can be is here. With me. You understand that, my love. . . Don’t you?”
You’re only half listening, but you nod in agreement anyway. Whatever he’s saying, you trust his opinion on the matter.
“Of course,” you gasp, almost slipping a finger inside yourself to the tune of his melodic voice.
“I knew you would,” he continues, loosening the grip on your neck again. “You know I only want what’s best for you, that everything I do is to ensure your safety, —to eliminate the possibility of you ever falling sick.”
“Of course,” you repeat, head growing cloudier by the minute. “You’ve always taken such good care of me, right from the very beginning.”
God, he’s so elated that you’re seeing things his way. The way this makes him feel is almost too much to handle.
“I try so hard, darling, I truly do,” he says, both hands coming up to cup your cheeks.
“Please, Lucian,” you mumble desperately, “I need you tonight.”
He complies, shedding his long coat and draping it over your shoulders once you’ve stepped out of the tub. The chill of the air against your wet skin leaves your nipples hard and sensitive, and as he leads you to the bedroom, you hope he realizes just what it is you’re asking for. His fingers are a plentiful start, and you just know they’ll feel so good stuffed inside you, curling to hit all the right places, —but they’re nothing compared to the cock he’s stingily hidden away for all this time.
Tonight, you want him in all his glory in the glow of the lanterns on the walls. You want to strip him bare and gag on the length between his thighs, feel him twitch against the roof of your mouth, tease every vein that runs up his shaft. It’s not enough to grind against him while you’re half asleep or hump his clothed thigh until you’ve left his pants damp and your pussy sopping, just begging to be fucked by this man who might just love you more than he could ever fear any virus that lurks outside these walls.
“Don’t fret,” he tells you, though it sounds more like a command than a gesture to soothe any worries, “just lie back. I’ll be sure to give you. . . A proper examination.”
You could cum just hearing that.
With half your body pressed against the headboard and his coat nearly slipping off your body completely, he sets to work in his underclothes and mask. It’s by no means an uncommon sight, but there’s something distinct about him this late evening; the way his black attire contrasts so beautifully with the stark paleness of his skin and the mystery it shrouds him in that you’re just dying to sink your teeth into. Everything hidden beneath that cautious wardrobe and that long mask. . . You’ve gotta have it. It’s a necessity.
His fingers, ungloved, begin softly with your calves, tracing senseless lines.
“I’m not so fragile,” you remind him.
For as oblivious as he can be, Lucian takes the hint, and by the time he’s reached your thighs, he’s content to give them the same treatment as your throat.
The way he splits you apart is almost painfully clinical, a thumb on either side of your lips, peering through the eye holes of his mask to admire the way your folds glisten in the orange lantern light. A few prodding strokes leave you biting your lip again, body waning in anticipation for the moment he finally turns his hand over and sinks the longest of his fingers inside you, —slowly, but deliberately. It’s impossible to see his expression, but you hope his mouth hangs open a little at the way your cunt suckles on his finger, encouraging him to prod more and maybe stuff another few inside for you to grind against.
There’s something about the warmth of his fingers that gets you off almost in equal amounts to the way he moves. Another finger inside, and you whine, halfway to an orgasm from this alone.
He’s not particulary rough in his execution, but there’s a clean meticulousness in every movement that leaves every cell in your body craving more, begging for anything he can offer. Months upon months of wanting, of dropping hints, of hoping he’d catch on and finally see things your way, —and at last, you’ve made it. And now that you’re here, you’re content to simply lie still and let him have his way with you.
“Please don’t stop,” you beg, nearly choking on the words when the tips of his fingers brush just the right spot.
“Before you’re satisfied?” He sits forward a bit, resting his free hand on your stomach to press you down onto the bed. “Darling, I couldn’t fathom it.”
You will your upper body forward, grabbing for the hand on your stomach to move it up to your throat. He squeezes, scissoring the fingers inside you, watching closely as your body shakes and your eyes roll back a bit in ecstasy.
“I’ve tried,” he says to you suddenly. “I’ve tried so desperately to be gentle with you.”
You smile.
“I appreciate that,” you answer. “But I don’t want you to be gentle at the moment.”
“That’s a dangerous request, my love,” he warns.
God, you hope so.
You reach forward and grab at the beak of his mask, pulling it upward gently until it begins to slip off and reveal the handsome face underneath. Dark hair, dark eyes, but skin almost pale enough to be sickly, you meet his gaze just long enough to ask for permission, then lean in to kiss him on the mouth. It’s the first time, and it’s electric. He’s avoided this for months, —avoided your mouth, your unspoken pleas, all the passes you made for the sake of keeping himself at bay. But here you are now with two of his fingers stuffed inside you, his hand on your throat, and your lips slotted against his own.
“Please,” you murmur, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt.
And you can feel the restraints of his mind come unwound.
He’s no longer gentle in the way he fucks you silly with his fingers, hammering them over and over and over again into that delicious spot buried deep inside you, squeezing your throat hard enough to cut your breathing off. The way your pussy spasms as you cum is blissful, and he loves the way your arousal soaks his digits, loves the way your back arches, soundless moans spilling forth as he makes you orgasm.
“I fucking tried,” he says again.
It’s almost manic, so desperate and sort of pathetic in the kind of way that turns you on. This is the first time you’ve ever heard him curse, and it dawns on you that even the filthiest of words sound so unendingly elegant when they’re spoken by Lucian.
“I tried to be gentle. I tried to keep you safe here, —to shelter you from whatever forsaken wasteland remains out there,” he insists, his fingers still buried in your twitching cunt. “I just wanted to protect you.”
He lightens the grip on your throat as you lean in to kiss him again, cupping his face in your hands.
“You have,” you assure him.
“You take such good care of me, Lucian,” you mumble into his ear. “Let me show you how grateful I am.”
The fingers stuffed inside you slowly slip out, and reach for his hand, guiding them to your lips, taking his digits into your mouth to taste yourself on them. He watches with hunger and interest as you clean him with your tongue. He leans in to kiss you to get a taste of it himself, grasping your hair near the scalp and taking a fistful hard enough to make you gasp.
“I can’t let you leave,” he murmurs. “It’s not safe out there. When this pestilence has been subdued, I’ll do this all correctly. We can start from the beginning, and I’ll be a gentleman.”
“I look forward to it,” you answer softly.
“You’ll stay until then?” He inquires.
He’s clearly overreacting, but it’s hard to care when you just want him inside you. Lucian has seen death day in and day out, —so it’s no wonder it feels like it permeates everything around him. He just doesn’t want you to suffer such a fate, and you’re confident that you won’t, as long as he’s yours.
“Of course I will,” you answer.
It’s like something primal takes over. Suddenly his lips are on yours in a bruising kiss, and his hands are grasping roughly at your breasts, pushing you down onto the bed as he crawls between your legs. He pauses, hovering just above your dripping cunt, turning his head to sink his teeth into the meat of your thigh. It makes you squeal a bit, and he kisses the teethmarks he left behind as if in apology.
You can’t help but wonder how long he’s been yearning for this. It’s like every part of him is thrumming from the thrill of it all, and this man who has previously refused to even kiss you on the mouth is now stationed exactly where you want him, tongue lolling out to lick a solid stripe up your folds. He laps like a man starved, then spreads you apart with his thumbs to suck your clit mercilessly.
It’s good enough to make your vision go blurry, and you can’t seem to form proper words through the haze. Desperately, your fingers claw at the sheets of this mattress, and he moans against your hot cunt, sending a vibration rippling through your core that makes your back arch on instinct. You mumble something that comes out like gibberish, pussy convulsing against the flat of his tongue.
His arm comes round to press your hips down, forcing you to be still. It’s the kind of toruture you’re sure you’ll learn to live for. There’s only so much you can wriggle under his arm, which has a surprising amount of force despite his rather lanky stature.
From what little friction you manage as you attempt to grind against his tongue, you tip yourself over the edge and as the knot in your stomach unties for the second time tonight, he continues licking, lapping at the juices that spill forth.
He stands and reaches for the top button of his shirt, not bothering to wipe his face, chin and lips glistening with your aftermath. You watch him undress with lustful eyes, propping yourself up on your elbow, then slinking back against the headboard once again, resting your weary body against it. The quiver of your thighs doesn’t stop you from nudging at your swollen clit.
“I wanted to be a gentleman,” he comments, untucking the shirt from his pants and pulling the front open.
It’s not skin you haven’t seen before. In fact, you’ve seen every inch of him at one point or another; just never all at once, and now, you’re waiting with bated breath to see him completely exposed for your eyes only.
“I truly did. I wanted to give you comfort and security, —to love you as you deserve. And I knew from the moment I saw you that only I could give you exactly what you’ve always needed.”
You hum in acknowledgement as he continues to strip himself bare.
“But it’s so clear to me now that I’ve neglected you,” he continues. “This beautifully desperate display is all a result of my negligence. . . I failed to realize just how much you needed me like this. How much you needed the touch of a man. . .”
He sounds apologetic, but your eyes are fixated on his half-hard cock. The last time you saw it, he asked that you keep your mouth away; insisting it wasn’t sanitary to use it for such purposes, terrified that you might contract some sort of illness if you sucked his dick for the sheer enjoyment of doing so. This time, however, you have a feeling you’re well past that.
To test the waters, you let your hand fall away from your cunt, slipping off the side of the bed to kneel before him. He gazes down at you as you open your lips and let your tongue fall out, encouraging him to make what he will of it.
“My love,” he says, placing four fingers under your chin to rest his thumb against your tongue for a moment, “—I’ll make everything up to you. . .”
His free hand pumps his cock once, twice, thrice, —then he places it gently on the flat of your tongue, letting you feel the weight and the warmth of it. He sighs.
“Darling,” he groans, “ah. . .”
It takes very little for him to come close to cumming in your mouth, just a few minutes of sucking him off, listening to him moan, feeling him quiver at your touch. You hum with his member stuffed down your throat, and he cants his hips reflexively, an orgasm bubbling up beneath his skin.
Your non-dominant hand holds his cock steady while the other is stuck between your thighs, rubbing furiously at your clit, making you whimper along his shaft. When he notices, Lucian finds that wholly unacceptable and snatches you up to position you on the edge of the bed, relieving the pressure on your aching knees. You weren’t down there for long, but kneeling was hardly comfortable on the hard floor.
He spreads your thighs apart and smacks the pads of his fingers against your slit.
Whatever he’s doing, you’re sure you’ll enjoy it to the fullest, so you occupy yourself with his cock again from this new angle, bending awkwardly to mouth at the reddened tip. His fingers find their way inside you once more, working their delicate magic, brushing against all the right places. At this point, you’re more desperate for his dick to slip inside you like this, but you take what he offers in stride (and more of him into your mouth in the process.)
He’s vocal, and that’s utterly divine. His gravely moans and the pump of his fingers leave you cumming for a third time before his first orgasm arises, depositing a sizable amount of his seed into your mouth.
“I love you,” he huffs, —and if he were anyone else, you’d be certain it was just the oral sex talking, but no. . . Lucian wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it.
Of course, he’s made similar confessions over the months, and has certainly treated you like it long before he ever expressed it so directly, but still. . . It feels nice to hear it, if nothing else.
“I love you too,” you answer honestly, urging him closer with your arms wrapped around his neck. “I’m yours tonight, completely. . . If you’ll have me. . .”
“Oh, darling, don’t be foolish,” he remarks, kissing you deeply. “You’ve been mine since the moment we met.”
Your back to the cool sheets, he lingers over you now, his shadow looming over you so monstrously. There’s a stark flush of red on his face that has begun to spread down the length of his neck, and one of his hands finds its way to your breasts as the other smoothes across your thigh. The head of his cock kisses your sopping entrance, sending a series of chills from the top of your spine to the bottom.
His breath on your neck makes your chest tighten, and he finds your lips with his own again as he sinks inside you, filling you up.
“Lucian,” you whimper, helpless to his touch as he pauses, buried down to the hilt inside your cunt.
He presses a few gentle kisses to your throat, murmuring something about how nice it feels to be stuffed inside you. He feels your nails dig into his shoulders as you adjust to his intrusion.
“You must understand by now,” he says, mumbling the words right next to your bitten earlobe. “Everything I do is for you.”
“I do,” you gasp slightly. 
As he begins to move, your walls clench around him, and he exhales deeply against the junction of your neck and shoulder. You roll your hips to match his pace, but as he goes faster, that becomes fruitless. Eventually, you resign yourself to the fate of lying there against the pillows, speared on his cock, him making a mess of you as you moan uncontrollably.
This was everything you’d been hoping for and then some, like some erotic dream come to life. Lucian’s lips travel where they please, —stopping to peck at your jaw, then to suck on your throat. Your breathing is haggard, and he smooths a hand down your side, resting it against your hip for a moment.
“Just a little more,” he whispers, as if to be reassuring.
“Just look how stunning you are, angel,” he murmurs, “how pretty you look like this.”
He kisses you once more.
“You take this so well, like your body was made for me.”
You’re delirious enough to believe that might be the case.
His cock pounds a little harder, and he hits the perfect spot, tearing a desperate yelp from your throat. You’re overstimulated and weak, but your high is itching just under your skin, and you couldn’t bear to see it disappear.
“Please,” you whimper to him, completely at his mercy, “—please, I’m so close.”
He loves the desperation that clings to your voice. The hand on your hip travels to your clit, pressing roughly against the abused little button, making you jerk slightly. He rubs a few heavy circles against it, and you come undone, cunt spasming around his cock as he chases his own release inside you.
Lucian is sloppy near the end, which may just be the only time you’ve ever known him to not be perfectly calculated and precise. His breath hits your neck again, over and over as he huffs through the hunt, finally sinking his teeth in when he comes to a finish. His cum sits hot inside your cunt, and he catches his breath for a moment, head resting against your throat.
“I apologize,” he utters. “I hope that wasn’t too much for you.”
You exhale slowly, his cock still buried in your heat.
“Don’t apologize,” you murmur, “I enjoyed myself.”
You feel him smile against your neck.
“I’m glad, darling.”
For the first time, he sleeps next to you without clothing, letting you touch every part of him, tangling your limbs together. Your face buried in the crook of his neck, breath fanning softly against him, as close to sleep as you can manage without tumbling over the precipice, Lucian reaches for his long coat and drapes it over your body, holding you closer.
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Not so Artificial Intelligence Part 2
When Bruce finally managed to get the time to look at the file Danny had added to the bat computer, it was almost patrol, and the rest of the family was filling in to get ready to head out. Even Jason had shown up, but that was probably just because he was bribed by Alfred with leftovers from dinner. Bruce couldn’t really blame him, Alfred’s food was the best in the world, but he does wish that he would show up more often just to hang out with him and his siblings.
Bruce sat in the bat-chair, graciously labeled with a sticker from a recent prank by Stephanie. She had gone around and labeled everything in the bat cave, but added the bat suffix in front. It had taken forever to find most of them, but he allowed some of them to remain. 
Finding the new folder was easy, it was labeled FROM DANNY, and left in the middle of the screen. Clicking it open and sipping his fresh coffee he glanced at the first document. The folder was full of notes, pictures and videos, but all of the previews were white, green, or black. 
Bruce started to read through the document, and chocked on his coffee at the contents.
Hello Batman and family, I hope this reached you before they do. I didn’t bring this up just incase you knew and were supportive, but how you act and how contaminated you are I will assume you do not. There is a Government Law that declares any being that has come into contact with enough or creates ectoplasm as non-sentient and non-sapient, but at the same time malicious {Abbreviated the AEA}. We are to be turned over to the GIW to be experiment upon and exterminated. This is literal torture, and I have gathered as much evidence as me and my friends could without being caught. I beg you, please be careful if you decide to take these people down. From what is on here, I think that Lazarus Water is a form of corrupted ectoplasm. Also, anyone who has died and come back to life no matter what are counted, and anyone with godly blood within them. Please Please, save us. My parents are the leading “scientists” which is bullshit, and they’ve already tied me down once. I can’t go through that again. Please, Amity and the Infinite Realms need help. If you don’t help us, I’m scared we may be forced to go to war, and I don’t think you can win against the godly dead. 
Please, I’m begging you - Danny Fenton {King Phantom}
“You good B?” Nightwing asked strolling over casually. He didn’t know how to answer, how was he supposed to say ‘Oh yeah, just found out that the government calls us non-sentient\sapient, and we are to be experimented and slaughtered. Also if we don’t stop them our worlds probably going to fall and we’re all going to die a painful death.’ That’s a fun conversation to have.
Clearing his throat he finally spoke up. 
“Red Robin, Oracle, I need you to help me sort through these, Nightwing, get the Justice league ready for an emergency meeting, call the Dark too. Look at this.”
“Are we sure it’s real though? It could be a prank,” muttered Oracle, though even she doubted her words.
“Even so, the threat is there and we should certainly look through this, and that means the League needs to know.”
Batman carefully mourned the loss of a peaceful evening, and his coffee, he was going to need to leave that at the cave, he had an image to keep. 
Nightwing wasn’t smiling anymore, Robin looked concerned, and Red Hood was openly gawking at the screen.
“I’ve called the emergency meeting, you three sort these files out, I’m calling up the JLD now. Guess we should warn Constantine to bring a couple extra bottles huh.” His joke fell flat, but Bruce wonders if he should bring some alcohol and coffee with him, image be dammed. 
“Wait a second, godly blood included? They fuckn’ shittin’ on Diana!”
“That’s what your concerned about Todd? Not that the we both fall under these parameters, along with Father and the rest of the collection? I will go fetch Thomas from his chambers, he will need to suit up to follow us to the watchtower.”
“Good idea Damian, tell him to hurry up. Everyone else, in the Zeta Tube, Alfred, you can stay here if you want.” Bruce gathered his laptop and moved the file over, copying and sending it to Tims laptop as well. 
“Thank you master Bruce, I will wait for the younger masters then I will be up shortly. Run along now.” Alfred excused with a bow, but even his face was shadowed in worry and thinly veiled anger. 
“See you in a bit Alf.” Dick replied, inputting directions to the watchtower in and doing a quick headcount. 
With a flash, the dark gloomy cave was replaced by fluorescent lights and the steel infrastructure of the watchtower. Hopping off the platform another flash of light appeared, and Aquaman stepped out. The group filled out as Aquaman politely greeted them. Making their way to the nearest meeting room, Batman and Red Robin began to set things up as the gathered heroes began to sit. 
“Hey Nightwing, what’s with the meeting, you never call for an emergency meeting, Blüd rarely has big threats.” Flash mentioned as he zoomed into the meeting room, last as always, and began to dig into his waffle plate. Where he got waffles from, Bruce didn’t want to know, they weren’t serving waffles in the cafeteria today, or yesterday from leftovers. 
“This isn’t just Blüdhaven, it’s all of the united States.” He worried, checking over one final time to make sure everyone was here. A collection of the main heroes from the Justice League, they’d need to figure out who counted as ecto-contaminated before throwing people around, and Constantine, Zatanna, and Deadman were gathered to represent Justice League Dark. At least he assumed Deadman was there, as a chair was pulled out and labeled for him. At least they wouldn’t have to race to find him, they could tell him just to stay up in the watchtower if things got bad. Finally, Robin and Signal rushed in, signal tiredly rubbing his eyes and his helmet in Agent A’s hands. 
“As some of you know, a person got stuck in the batcomputer a couple months ago. And was only recently released.” Murmurs and imputed questions rose around, and Nightwing promptly ignored them. 
“They left behind a file for us, and we were looking through it and discovered many hidden crimes from the US government. They have taken and labeled a whole species and group of people as non-sentient and non-sapient, and have been experimenting and committing genocide on them.” Again, a chorus of questions and yelling went up, and Nightwing had to take a moment to pause. A glance at Martian Manhunter reviled a stone cold face, quietly waiting for more information. 
“Oh god… what is this?” 
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seungkw1 · 4 months
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make me — ksy
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♡ pairing: kwon soonyoung x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni], humor ♡ wc: 1.8k ♡ warnings: alcohol consumption, oral (m. receiving, f. receiving implied), handjob, hoshi is obsessed w boobs, hoshi is a simp, i ramble on about star wars for a bit at the beginning ♡ a/n: might have to do a pt. 2 to this one so lmk if anyone is interested in that 👀
“No it’s not.”
“Yes, it is!!”
“Soonyoung. Be so fucking for real right now.” 
Your roommate doesn’t usually drink, and you’re starting to see why. Two Jack & Cokes and he’s fucking gone already.
“I’m telling you y/n, The Rise of Skywalker is so fucking good. You should stop being a haterrrr,” he says, inches away from your face as he leans over to you, nearly pushing you off the couch. You’ve never been this physically close to him, though you’ve certainly thought about it (more than once). Your heart flutters from the proximity of his lips to yours, but you have more important matters at hand right now.
“I didn’t say I hated it, it’s just not that good compared to all the other Star Wars movies!”
He picks up his drink again. You stop him before he can take a sip, handing him a glass of water instead. 
“Well how would I know? I haven’t seen the other movies.”
“WHAT?!”
He takes a big gulp of the water. “I’ve only seen the new ones,” he admits with a shrug.
“Oh my god,” you mumble, resting your forehead against your palm in exasperation. You grab the remainder of his beverage and drink it all in one go. 
This argument isn’t that serious of course - you just need to calm your nerves a bit, considering Soonyoung has now placed your hand on your thigh as he blabbers on.
“Besides, seeing Kylo Ren and Rey finally kiss was great. I cheered.”
“You’re a fucking REYLO SHIPPER??”
“A what?” He blinks at you with heavy eyelids. “I don’t speak that language.”
“Kylo Ren and Rey made a terrible couple, it’s literally toxic. The plot between them should’ve never been a romance.”
“But I like romance!” he practically shouts in your face. You’ve always enjoyed bantering with Soonyoung for fun, but the alcohol in both of your systems is definitely upping the ante. You’ve seen him act ridiculous plenty of times before, but he’s on another level today.
“It’s fucking Star Wars, it doesn’t need romance!!” you shout back.
“Well I think it does!” he states indignantly.
“What do you know?? You haven’t seen the other movies!!”
“So I can’t have an opinion??”
“NO??”
“Why are you being so mean to meeeee,” Soonyoung whines, making big sad puppy dog eyes at you. “I’ve never done anything wrong in my life.”
“You’re literally insane. Get off of me!” you shout as he leans over onto you, practically clinging onto you in his drunken stupor.
He ignores you, getting even more up in your face. “You’re just mad because I have better taste in movies than you.”
“Will you just shut the FUCK UP???”
“MAKE ME!”
You pause, staring at him for a few moments too long. He stares back at you, confusion spreading across his face. Then-
You kiss him.
Your lips press softly against his for only a few moments. You pull back, looking at your roommate eye to eye, watching his inebriated brain trying to process what just happened. As if a lightbulb goes off above his head, it suddenly clicks. He swallows nervously.
“What was that for?” he hesitantly asks, barely more than a whisper.
“I…” you start, but quite honestly you don’t know where that came from. Sure, you’ve found Soonyoung attractive since the day you met him - and sure, living with him has led to a few domestic fantasies here and there. But you are friends, nothing more - your boundaries are unspoken, but clearly established. 
Or so you thought.
Soonyoung’s dark eyes stare into yours. Panic alarms are going off in your head. You fucked up you fucked up you fucked up oh god you fucked up big time…
“I’m so sorr-”
You don’t get to finish that sentence. Soonyoung’s mouth aligns with yours, kissing you hungrily, his hands grasping onto your arms. Shock reverberates through your body as he makes out with you, his hands sliding to your back, pulling your body close against his as his tongue pokes at your lips, requesting entrance. You let him in. He squeezes you even tighter against him as he kisses you like his life depends on it.
After what felt like about a thousand years, you break apart, barely - his lips hovering mere inches in front of yours. The look he gives you is one you’ve never seen him make before - he gazes at you like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever seen, and he wants to devour you.
You try to speak, but nothing comes out. You’re simply dumbstruck.
“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he mutters as his hands drop to your hips, still holding onto you for dear life.
“You… like me?”
You silently curse yourself at how dumb you sound. Asking him if he likes you, as if you were in fucking middle school.
“Yeah,” he replies emphatically. “I really really really like you.”
Your head spins, the intoxication doing nothing to help you process this information.
“Um… since when?” 
Soonyoung is still drunk as hell, but he speaks clear as day.
“Short answer, since we moved in together.”
You wait for him to elaborate. He doesn’t.
“And the long answer?”
He shifts awkwardly, doing a very poor job of trying to hide his boner.
“Middle of July. It was hot as balls. I woke up that morning to you making pancakes. You were wearing a light blue tank top with nothing underneath, and-” he trails off. You raise an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to go on.
“And my god, your boobs looked perfect. The pancakes smelled good, but all I wanted was your tits in my mouth.” 
His hand delicately trails up to your breasts, where he is currently staring, taking one of them and squeezing it. He lets out a soft groan as he does.
“Fuck, even better than I imagined.”
“Is that why you took so long to come out for breakfast that day?” you say as your fingertips glide over his thigh, moving toward the very obvious bulge that has formed in his pants. You grab his cock through the fabric. He practically yelps as you begin to caress it slowly.
“Y-yeah,” he answers, his voice going up an octave, practically melting under your touch. 
“So you’re saying that you went and jerked off while you thought of my tits.”
“Um,” he tenses up nervously, realizing what he’s just admitted to.
Before he can say anything else, you take your shirt off, leaving you in just your bra. If his eyes could physically pop out of his head on a pair of springs, they’d be doing just that right now.
You unclasp the hook, removing the undergarment and tossing it aside. He gawks at you - his cock twitches under your palm. You begin to stroke his length, but he immediately grabs your hand to stop you.
“I’ll cum in my pants if you keep doing that.” He’s still staring at your chest.
“Where would you rather cum?”
“I- what?” He looks up at you, his eyes darting between your mouth and your eyes, then back to your boobs, then back to your mouth. 
“Okay then,” you say as you slide off the couch.
“What’re you-” he asks, but freezes as you position yourself between his legs. His body tenses as you undo his belt, quickly unfastening the button and yanking the zipper down. The rock hard bulge protrudes through the fabric of his underwear, begging to escape. You pull the band down, freeing his already-leaking cock. You take the length in your hands, giving it a few slow strokes. He sinks into the couch with a loud groan.
“Oh my god,” he mumbles, your touch sending him to another planet. 
With a swirl of your tongue you lap up the precum dripping from his tip, causing him to let out the biggest whine. You wrap your lips around the head, slowly taking his length into your mouth. 
“Fuckkkkkkk, y/n…” 
He lets out a gasp as you swallow him to his base. He places one hand softly upon your head as you begin to move your mouth up and down his cock. Within seconds he is a moaning, blubbering mess.
“Feels so good baby, oh god don’t stop. You’re so fucking hot oh my god… fuckkkk…”
You increase your pace. Between moans he continues praising you, whining and whimpering, begging you for more. The man simply cannot shut up about how good you’re sucking him off.
And it’s making you so incredibly wet right now.
You want to touch yourself so badly, but your priority is pleasuring Soonyoung. And judging by the way he is wriggling under you, bucking his hips and fucking his cock into your throat, unintelligibly babbling as he moans your name - you’re doing a pretty damn good job.
“Oh fuck,” he cries out. “Fuck, y/n, gonna cum…”
The words are barely out of his mouth before hot white ropes are hitting the back of your throat. He grips onto your hair as he cums, cock pulsating in your mouth as he rides out his high. As he comes down, he collapses into the sofa - you slowly pull your mouth off of him, making a show of swallowing all of his cum.
“Jesus fucking Christ, y/n…”
You climb back up onto the couch. He immediately leans in and starts kissing you.
“Thank you,” he murmurs between kisses.
“Are you seriously thanking me for sucking your dick?”
He shrugs as he wraps his arms around your waist. “You just gave me the best head of my life, least I can do is say thanks.”
“Actually,” he corrects himself right away, “I take that back. If you’ll let me, can I… may I please eat you out?”
You burst out laughing. He looks at you, puzzled.
“Sorry, if you don’t want-”
“No no no,” you tell him, still laughing. “It’s not that, I’ve just never had anybody ask me so politely like that before.”
His face lights up, hopeful. “So can I?” he pleads enthusiastically. “Pleaseeeeeeee? Please please please?”
You lean your head into his shoulder, giggling like an idiot.
“Soonyoung, you are truly one of a kind.”
He gently grabs your chin, tilting your head up until you are eye to eye. His nose presses into yours.
“Is that a yes?”
You smile as you kiss him.
“Yes, it’s a yes.”
He practically leaps off the couch, startling you. He grabs your hand, pulling you up and directing you toward his bedroom.
“Wait,” he says as he pauses. He looks at you very seriously.
“My room or yours?”
“Don’t care,” you respond eagerly.
He grins. “Yours, then.”
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saphronethaleph · 3 months
Text
Institutionalist
“Vader,” Palpatine said, his voice touched with silky menace. “What are you doing?”
“I am facilitating politics, my master,” Vader replied.
Palpatine looked at him, then up at the large poster Vader had just finished affixing to the wall of the Senate Chamber.
REMEMBER TO VOTE FOR THE NEXT EMPEROR, it said. REPORT ANY VOTER INTIMIDATION WHATSOEVER TO DARTH VADER, AND HE WILL KILL THE PERSON DOING IT.
“...you don’t think that’s a little paradoxical?” he asked.
“I am not telling people who to vote for,” Vader replied. “I am attempting to make sure the Senate vote is fair and free.”
“Vader…” Palpatine said, slowly. “I am the Emperor. The Senate is irrelevant.”
“You said the Jedi were a threat to the Republic,” Vader pointed out, in reply. “The Separatist Crisis is over. The Jedi are scattered and unable to intervene. It has been enough time that there should now be a new election. For Emperor.”
“That is not the law any more!” Palpatine retorted.
“Why not?” Vader asked. “Meaningful elections are important. Padme said so.”
Palpatine bit back his next reply, seething faintly.
Vader was usually easy to manipulate, but every so often one of those ideas about Padme got stuck in his head and he went from easy to utterly impossible. On that subject, he was immovable.
“Then… why the poster?” he asked.
“The vote should be fair and free,” Vader reiterated. “I will prevent voter intimidation.”
“...huh,” Bail said, a week later. “How did that happen?”
He was looking at the election results, which showed that seventy-four percent of the Senate had voted for him to be the next Emperor.
“I suspect Darth Vader was involved,” Mon replied. “His men ran an exhaustive investigation of the whole Senate over the last few weeks, then he killed everyone who’d taken their post through bribery or through falsified results.”
Bail clicked through to the details of the report, and winced.
The number of people who’d voted for him was about what he’d expected, the Senators who he could count on. The number of people who’d voted against him was… drastically smaller.
Then the door opened with a crash.
“Emperor,” Vader said. “It is time for you to take your position. The previous incumbent of your position was unwilling to vacate his post when the election results came in, but he has been dealt with.”
Bail blinked.
“...you killed Palpatine?” he asked.
“That is a good question,” Vader replied, somewhat quizzically. “I don’t know if it was my lightsaber or something else, but he has exploded and so he is certainly dead whether or not I was the one to kill him. I do not believe it is tradition, though.”
The Alderaanian senator swallowed, trying to hide his nerves.
“Are you going to kill everyone who looks at me funny?” he asked.
“No,” Vader replied. “Though I will kill anyone who tries to assassinate you. That is tradition.”
Mon and Bail exchanged glances.
“...would you actually have a problem if I tried to make things better for the galaxy?” Bail asked.
“You won the election,” Vader said, firmly, and apparently that was all that mattered.
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iamred-iamyellow · 8 days
Text
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ Bad Blood
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♥ masterlist | request rules | based on this request
♥ pairing: franco colapinto x fem!driver!reader
♥ synopsis: tensions started rising in the williams garage when bad strategies pitted you and your teammate, franco against each other. after spotting him in a bar the night of a race the two of you bonded over your shared bad result. 
♥ one-shot - wc: 1.6k
♥ as always none of the pictures are mine <3
♥ warnings: swearing, drinking, and vaguely suggestive !!!
♥ a/n: rivals to lovers + forced proximity, go nuts babe. btw there’s some salty team vibes so i just wanna say i love williams (except james) this is purely for the plot lol
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“Plan B, Y/n. Plan B,” you engineer said on the radio of your car.
”Is Franco undercutting me?” you asked, shifting down into a corner.
“We think this is the best decision point-wise.”
“You’re joking.”
“Y/n stick to the strategy, you’ll get your time eventually.” they responded.
“No this is bullshit. What advantage are you giving him? He can’t chase down Kmag any better than I can—at least he doesn’t have the pace right now. I don’t see why you’re making him the priority.”
You reached the end of the main straight watching as your teammate exited the pit lane in front of you.
He was on hard tires, an extremely odd choice for the end of this race. You were trying to complete the last 20 laps on softs while your teammate tried to make up positions on the opposite compound. Wait why the fuck would they put him on those tires? If they were aiming for an undercut, they were certainly going to fail with this strategy. 
You dove down into the apex and collided with Franco, who was turning in front of you. You both spun out into the gravel, ending your race. 
It was always like this. Somehow you always found yourself competing against Franco no matter where you went. 
“Fuck,” you yelled on the radio as you threw your HANS device outside of the car. 
“Are you okay?” your engineer questioned.
“Yup, yeah I’m fine.” you responded. 
The Williams team could hear faint breathing from Franco. 
“Is she ok?” he asked. 
“Yes, are you?”
“Yeah, I am.”
-
You scrolled through your phone in your driver's room, coming across a couple of posts about the situation.
@fcswife “is she okay?” FRANCO THE MAN THAT YOU ARE 😭❤️
@charlesgf16 she really has zero respect for franco huh?
@francodefender1 how could anyone hate him? 😩
You rolled your eyes and clicked off the device, throwing it onto a different cushion on the couch. You were going to need a drink. 
-
Later that night you retreated to a bar you were unfamiliar with. A couple of F2 drivers in your circle mentioned it in passing and considering you couldn't fluently speak the language of the country you were visiting, you hoped to run into a few people you knew.
The room was dark, loud, and packed. You could hear music playing over the sound of dozens of drunk voices. You pushed your way through the crowd of people towards the front of the bar in order to get a drink.
You spotted a familiar face when you arrived. To your dismay it was the only person you wished not to talk to at that moment. His brown curls were immediately identifiable and if that wasn't enough, the fluorescent lighting illuminated his face, drawing your eyes towards the small mole on his cheek.
You looked around for a place to avoid him, but all the booths were taken and the only open bar stool was the one next to Franco.
Because of course it was.
You sighed and took the seat next to him, trying your hardest to avoid eye contact.
"A bottle of Dom Perignon please," you asked, causing Franco to snort.
“What?” you shifted your gaze towards him.
“Champagne is for winners,” he said, looking you straight in the eye.
It wasn’t like he was incorrect. Champagne was for the podium—but you had a long day and it was time to treat yourself. Regardless, you rolled your eyes at the man’s comment.
Franco waved over the bartender to get a glass and help himself to the bottle of alcohol.
“You can venmo me,” you said only half joking as he poured himself some champagne.
A small tv in the corner of the bar had a replay of the race and press.
”There were a lot of emotions definitely, uhm I think the decisions tire wise for the strategy weren’t great. It’s frustrating to see the prioritization of your teammate but I guess I have no input on whether that goes to me or Franco each race. We had a rough week overall as a team but I hope we can bounce back.”
“As much as I hate to agree with you… you were right. Both our strategies were fucked.” he said referencing your post race interview, “They screwed us both.”
The two of you never really got along, but at least neither blamed each other for the crash. It was just a racing incident and it didn’t have to prevent you from finally having a civil conversation with Franco.
“To screwing us both,” you smiled while raising your glass of champagne, eliciting a chuckle out of him.  
He clinked his cup to yours with a smirk and took a small sip. 
From that point on your distaste for him slowly started to die down and you began to have a mutual understanding.
-
The next race went over far smoother than the last. Franco ended up in P5 with you right behind him in P6; an incredible result for the two of you and the team.
You jumped out of your car and strolled your way over to his. The camera picked up on you patting his helmet and mumbling something.
Of course this was going to be all your media feed would show for the next few days.
-
That night you found yourself at a far more tame pub than the last.
“From the gentleman across the bar,” a server said, causing you to look up from your phone and towards the direction he was pointing. 
Franco was leaning against the counter with a grin. He raised his eyebrows quickly and waved.
You took a sip of the cold blue drink in front of you and waved back. His eyes stayed locked on you as you pulled out your phone and unblocked a number.
You 
is there red bull in this? 
+1800******
yea 
You got a text back immediately, prompting you to change the contact name. 
You
i think that’s a sin
Franco
oh?
You
yea if i can’t drive it i shouldn’t be drinking it  
Franco
i guess it’s too bad williams doesn’t make energy drinks
You
come sit with me
-
Tensions were still high on track between the two of you but the minute race weekend was over it was like someone flipped a switch.
A few weeks flew by and people started to notice your behavior towards Franco. By now there were probably dozens of pictures of you looking very cozy together at parties, but not getting along at the circuits or simply ignoring each other in the paddock.
Of course people were getting suspicious. Maybe this was a ruse to keep your relationship a secret? Maybe it was all staged for Netflix. Or maybe—you two didn’t really know what you were.
-
“Che,” a voice called out to you in spanish, instantly grabbing your attention.
You spotted Franco in a booth at the back of the club. It was far darker in that corner, but with the flashing lights and loud music you were glad he picked a more secluded area.
The building was full with the familiar faces of drivers and team members.
”Look at you,” he said, impressed.
You laughed and did a small spin, showing off your dress. You knew he’d liked it and by the memory you had earlier this evening, it seemed as though a lot of people would.
”Another date with Franco, huh?” Kika smirked while putting on some dangly earrings. “It’s not a date,” you protested. She spun her body around to face you. “This,” she gestured to your outfit. “Is for a date.”
You slid into the booth next to him, setting your black clutch purse beside you.
Franco’s hand firmly grabbed your thigh to steady himself as he shifted closer towards you. Your eyes darted down to the action but he didn’t seem to notice. His grip loosened as he settled and he started rubbing small circles with the pad of his thumb.
A small hum escaped your lips, barely audible over the music and voices, but there was no way in hell your soft noises wouldn’t catch his attention.
”¿Esto está bien?” (is this ok?) he asked in a whisper, causing you to only nod.
His face moved closer to yours, and you wasted no time cupping his cheeks in your hands, and connecting your lips.
You melted into the kiss knowing damn well you daydreamed about this an embarrassing amount.
His tongue swiped over your bottom lip, tasting the gloss you applied earlier. You opened your mouth to allow him entrance and he dragged his fingertips further up the inside of your thigh.
Franco moved down to your neck leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses. His index and middle fingers brushed the lace of your lingerie, causing him to smirk against you.
“Stand up,” he demanded. He slipped out of the booth and pulled you onto your feet. You grabbed your clutch as he guided you through the crowd, hand-in-hand.
He opened the chiming door and the two of you stepped onto the wet cobblestone. Your heels clicked on the ground as he guided you to his car in the rain.
He pulled open the passenger seat door for you.
“Wow, we weren’t even in there a couple of minutes,” you stated.
“I think we’ve had enough time to talk… quiero llevarte a casa…” (i want to take you home) he leaned down and mumbled to you.
“O en este caso mi hotel,” (or in this case my hotel) “unless you’d rather go back inside..” he trailed off.
You shook your head in protest to his last works and a light chuckle slipped through his lips.
”Alright then,” he smirked, getting into the drivers seat.
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sister-lucifer · 2 months
Text
Stupid Dog! 
Puppyboy!Ticci Toby x Gender Neutral Reader 
Genre: Smut 
Summary: Toby is pent up, and he wants to be good, but he just can’t take being ignored anymore. 
Content/Warnings: No explicit consent but not non/dubcon, Toby’s breaking the rules but Reader makes no move to stop him beyond just scolding him for being needy and they both enjoy it, degradation, just a bit of praise at the end, dry humping, mentions of punishment, mean dom reader but Toby likes it, needy sub Toby, whatever the term for controlling when your partner masturbates is 
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[IF YOU LIKE THIS POST, PLEASE REBLOG. ITS THE BEST WAY TO SUPPORT MY WORK]
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All week. 
It’s been all week with this. 
With you, sitting at your desk, hunched over your computer as though it’s utterly captivated you with its cornea-searing rays and endless pings that constantly demand your attention, meanwhile your beloved pup has been practically thrown to the wayside without a care. 
It’s cruelty is what it is, complete neglect! No matter how much Toby whines or how loud he howls or how many of your shoes he threatens to tear to shreds, the mistreatment never ceases. How awful, how unfair, choosing your stupid job over him! He should be the must important thing in your life! Don’t you know he needs your attention to survive?! He’ll die like this! 
The worst part, though, is the fact that you’ve kept The Rule enforced despite your preoccupation. You have set many rules for Toby to keep him from destroying the house or getting the police called, but the one he absolutely hates the most is The Rule:
Under absolutely no circumstances is Toby allowed to masturbate unless under some sort of supervision. 
He had laughed in your face the first time you suggested that, only to choke on his mirth when he saw how deathly serious you were. He’d tried to argue, naturally, but you presented an awfully compelling case. He was messy and erratic, making complete filth of his bedsheets which you would then have to wash because he’s too scared of the noises the washing machine makes. He’d chew the pillows to bits and hump every piece of furniture in the house, and no matter how much you scrubbed or washed or sprayed his thick musk would be stuck on the fabric for weeks. Not to mention he had no idea when to stop, he was practically addicted to it; he’d go and go and go until he made himself pass out. It was for the benefit of you both that he be reigned in. 
He doesn’t like it, not one bit, but he concedes to the rules you set nonetheless. It’s just one of the many things he had to give up when you took him off the street and gave him the cushy life of a human. It was a big adjustment, yes, and although for the most part every change has been for the better, it’s times like these he wonders where he’d be if he was still feral. 
Certainly not as frustrated, that’s for sure. 
He’s been watching you from your bed for a while now, staring at your back as you click click click away at your keyboard with nary a fleeting glance at him. The first few days he whined, but gave up on that rather quickly when you didn’t budge. He barked a couple of times, but all that got him was a few coos and gentle shushes of pity. At this point, you don’t have the time or energy to keep explaining to him why you can’t play. He’s heard the same response enough times to know it by heart, anyways. 
The longer he sits here, the more restless he gets. The more restless he gets, the more his mind wanders, and his mind wanders to dirty places far too easily. When boredom seeps into his brain, he combats it with some rather lewd fantasies. His eyes flutter shut for just a moment, and in that split second an entire film of utter pornographic depravity plays on the back of his eyelids, memories of your bare body flashing through his mind. 
 It becomes far too much for him to bear rather quickly, and soon the full weight of Toby’s frustration is weighing heavy on him. He squirms on his back, nearly whimpering at just the slight friction of his boxers on his hardening member. 
He just can’t do this anymore! 
He practically throws himself off of the bed, hitting the ground with a hard thud. In the next moment he’s over your shoulder, nuzzling into your neck and whining softly. He sighs with relief when you actually reach up to scratch his head, although your free hand never leaves the keyboard. 
“Hey, puppy,” you say softly, without looking at him. You take your hand away far too quickly, and Toby whines when you pull your fingers out of his messy hair. He nuzzles you again, with a bit more intensity this time. 
“C’mon, Toby, I’m busy right now,” you say with a sigh. Toby huffs in annoyance. 
Dammit. So close. 
He can still feel the heat in his loins growing more and more by the second. This just won’t do. 
The next thing he knows he’s sitting between your legs, looking up at you from the floor. His heart flutters when you glance down at him with a soft smile, briefly tousling his hair in an almost condescending gesture, which earns another huff of irritation from Toby. 
“I’m sorry, pup, really I am,” you explain, “but I just can’t right now. I promise, as soon as I’m done I’ll do whatever you want. I just need you to be patient for a bit longer.” 
That wasn’t anywhere near the answer he was hoping for. 
He grumbles and leans in, shamelessly burying his face in your groin. He inhales deeply, tail thumping against the ground as he makes a show of taking in your scent. He smirks to himself when he feels you jump. 
“Toby, c’mon, don’t be like that—“ you start, but he cuts you off with a growl.  That makes you raise an eyebrow. 
You’ve seen him do this before. This is your cue. 
That’s how he lets you know he wants to play rough, and he’s ready to be treated like a brat. 
Of course, you oblige. It’s the least you could do, really. 
“Oh, you dumb mutt,” you hiss, and you can practically feel the smile he’s holding back, “can’t you behave for once in your life? You know damn well you aren’t supposed to be doing this.”
You have to hold back a grin of your own when the incessant wagging of his tail only picks up the pace. 
You feign annoyance with a heavy sigh, sharply turning your head to look back up at your computer. You carry on with your typing, ignoring the feeling of Toby shifting against you.
That is, until you feel his hips start to grind against your leg. 
Oh, fuck. 
It takes everything in you not to drop everything you’ve been working on right then and there, and  you even feel a slight pang of guilt when he whines that high pitched whine at you. 
You take in a deep breath. You exhale slowly. 
You have to stay strong. If you give in now, he’ll never learn. 
And besides, it’s so much more fun when you’re tough. 
“Toby. You haven’t been given permission,” you state firmly. This only earns an even more pitiful whimper from him. You resist the urge to bite your lip. 
“…Bad. Bad dog.” 
The words hold no weight. It only makes Toby hump your leg with more fervor. 
You shift your leg with intent, shuddering at the little yelp that Toby lets out when it rubs against his bulge. He’s already soaking the front of his sweatpants. 
“God, can’t you go ten minutes without begging to get your cock wet?” you growl. 
A shaky giggle manages to make its way through his gritted teeth. He nuzzles against your knee, and you can feel him looking up at you with those big, hazel eyes despite the fact that your gaze is fixed firmly on your monitor. He’s getting exactly what he wants, and you can’t even be mad. 
You do your best not to show how much this is affecting you. You force yourself to not look down at him, to keep your shoulders relaxed and your typing at its regular pace. 
“…You’re breaking the rules, and you know it.” 
For just a moment you feel Toby’s hips stutter at that. Then they’re only moving faster, his bulge desperately rubbing against your leg as endless whines fall from his lips. 
Oh, he’s just begging for more. 
“Stupid dog,” you spit, and you could swear his cock twitches at that, “Don’t you have any self control? I can feel you leaving a stain on my pant leg. Where’s your dignity?” 
He moans in response, and you feel him rest his chin on your knee. He’s panting heavily now. 
“I really should keep you on a leash,” you muse aloud, feigning thought, “If you keep acting like an animal, I’ll chain you up and treat you like one. You can’t get into any trouble if you’re stuck in the backyard, can you?” 
He growls, but it’s not aggressive; it’s desperate. It’s a needy rumbling in his throat that wants more. 
You shift your leg again, making a subtle effort to aid him in his release. 
He’s huffing and puffing like a freight train. Just hearing the sound makes you miss feeling his warm breath on your neck. 
“…P…P-Please,” Toby stammers, and your eyes widen a bit. 
It’s rare for him to use real words when he can growl and whine to get his point across, but now he’s using his voice to plead. 
Oh, God…
You inhale deeply once again, your breath shakier than before. 
You finally give in. 
You take your hands off the keyboard, resting them on the arms of your chair instead as you lean back. The way Toby lights up the moment you make eye contact, that dumb little smile that crosses his face and makes his entire expression go lopsided with a lust-drunk haze. 
“Go on then,” you order with a nod, your voice a bit more gentle than you meant for it to be, “make a mess. You’ll take the consequences for this, won’t you?”
He nods eagerly, and you’re not even bothered by the pool of drool he’s leaving on your pant leg. 
Your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you watch him. His desperation is evident on his face, eyes nearly rolling back in his head as he loses himself to the feeling of an impending (and much needed) release. 
“Oh, you’re just a dumb little pup, aren’t you?” you tease, only to be met with a slurred chant of ‘Yes, yes yes.’  You’re surprised he can speak at all with the way his tongue hangs limply out of his mouth like a useless appendage. 
He’s losing the slight semblance of a steady pace he once had. He’s getting close, and all that matters now is getting to the end.  He needs this. 
He can’t control his voice anymore. Each whine or moan is louder than the last, until he’s practically screaming. He’s nearly sobbing, both from the pleasure and the overwhelming relief of finally getting what he’s craved all week. He’s so close, so damn close. 
There’s just one thing that’ll push him over the edge. 
“…Go on.  Cum for me like a good boy.”
Toby nearly chokes on his breath. 
A tremor rocks his body as he releases without warning, his sticky release shooting through the fabric keeping his cock contained and leaving a warm sensation on your leg. The last moan that leaves him is completely pathetic, and soon his voice melts into nothing but barely audible whimpers. Slowly but surely his erratic grinding comes to a stop, and the only sound is his chest heaving as he catches his breath. He rests his head on your knee, now leaning against you completely since he can’t support himself. 
You take a moment to appreciate the sight of your puppy; all tuckered out, brunette hair flicking out in all directions, and barely conscious. 
Adorable. 
You reach out and gently pet his head, scratching his scalp right on that spot that makes his leg twitch. 
“Look at me, pup,” you order, and he obeys. His eyes are lidded, but he still has the energy to give you a tired smile. You return the gesture. 
“Mm…I hope you know you’re in big, big trouble.”
Toby nods, his grin only widening. He doesn’t regret anything. 
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Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!
Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out. 
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lady-ashfade · 8 months
Note
so this one i stole again lol from your list. “Please go on a date with me.”
basically percy notices the reader and tries to impress her by doing crazy ridiculous things but she’s not interested because she thinks his ego is too big. finally she comes around when she sees he got hurt doing something for her to notice him. i hope that makes sense.
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Falling for you- Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader
-£ words: 900 words
-£ Warnings: Short story, Simp Percy, cute crushes, reader being a bit mean to him, percy get it hurt, fluffy fic
-£ taglist: @kazurami14 @anonymouslyawesome25 @american-idiot21
the son of poseidon was persistent.
no matter how many times you told him off, or set him running with his head running, or you leaving him alone. he always kept coming back. Percy was often knocking his opponent down in training hoping you’d see him. he did everything to try and get your attention.
his back legs curled around a tree branch where you normally took your daily stroll, he was hanging down with a huge smile on his face and his cheeks glowing red. “percy.” you greeted with a uninterested tone. he just kept that annoying big smile, “lovely day isn’t it?” the only thing you did was roll your eyes and continue to walk down the dirt path. “And you’re ruining it.”
when he first arrived at camp, he already had some sort of glory after defeating a minotaur. he just kept finding his way in danger and saving the day, time after time. but his stupid smirk or smile told you he was too full of himself. he’d making the lake waves move, or make them a shape of something. no matter what, he was showing off.
and boy did you hate it.
somehow he find his way to you and that annoyed you, it was just too much. honestly you didn’t even realize he was trying to get your attention and just thought he was showing off to everyone. and certainly you didn’t know he had a crush on you. all you noticed was his ego.
but he noticed everything about you.
the way you walked, if you held your head up high or at the ground. how pretty your face shined when the sun shined on it, and how your smile shined even brighter. he was constantly chasing after you, he was craving to get your attention. most of the time he just did what popped up in his head which for someone like him, and you, was always dangerous and over the top. he lacked self control.
how someone could be so beautiful he couldn’t understand. even when you fought, he was entranced. you could be the worst fighter and he’d stare at you like the stars in the sky. his heart belonged to you.
but this time, he had gone to far.
“you’re a idiot,” you push his head under the water as you clothes get wetter by the second of sitting in the water. the bruising on his skin and the cuts going along with it only made your heart ache worse. his stunt didn’t go so well this time, hints his fracture wrist. he took a deep breath as he came back up even though he could breath under the water. he just wasn’t thinking straight.
sitting yourself back down on the sand you click your tongue. he had challenged you to a fight with that same attitude, the same smirk, the same slick tone. he got a little to distracted near the edge. he walked backwards with his sword held pointed at you, “look at us spending time together, we should do this more often.” he really should have watched his steps because his foot finally slipped and he took a tumble down onto the rocks. you watch him slide down, his grunts of pain and the way his body sounded made you cringe
lucky he landing on the shore line and only a few feet away from the water. which is were you two stay now catching your breath and thinking to yourself. why did you care if he was actually hurt or not? not like he would die or stay injured because he always got back up. why did his smile finally get to you back then?
and why was your stomach sick.
as you thought to yourself percy watched again like he always found himself doing. he loved the look on your face when you were deep in thought. and now that your face was wet and hair hanging down he couldn’t stop himself from falling deeper for you.
“please go on a date with me.” his words cut you out of thought.
your eyes grow bigger and look at him shocked and startled. you couldn’t believe your ears. he just asked you out on a date…percy jackson asked you out. the cocky, dumb, arrogant demigod was talking to you. Why, you hate his guts and always made fun of him. he jumped up from the water and you saw his teeth pinch the inside of his mouth anxiously.
“Sorry,” he sighed. “it just came out. I’ve been trying to ask you out for weeks but i couldn’t work up the courage to ask you out, I’m not good at this type of thing.” percy jackson lacking courage? that made you laugh. you looked up at him, the sun shining behind him as his hand now extended to you offering to help you up. any other time you would have smacked it away and cursed at him to leave you alone.
“I know you probably think I’m a total idiot which is true but, I really like you. If you really don’t want anything to do with me then I respect your wishes.”
but now you realize that you actually enjoyed his company. he made camp fun and exciting. and boy, was he handsome now that you really look at him. “alright, beach boy.” you grabbed ahold of his hand as he pulls you up. your body pressed into his and knocked him back a bit but his arm grabbed ahold of your waist to steady you.
inches away from his face your lips curled in a small smirk, “You got yourself a deal.”
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sunrenity · 2 months
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BITTER AND SWEET  、SJY
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ㅤ୨ৎㅤ after fake dating you for a few months, sim jake thinks he's actually fallen for you, that maybe his small crush is not so small anymore.
sim jakeㅤ✶ㅤfemale readerㅤ 。。。 ㅤfake dating, enemies(?) to lovers, fluff, college auㅤⓘㅤkissing, skinship, angst(?), ends on a cliffhanger i thinkㅤwcㅤ2847ㅤℬookshelfㅤzehra's note.ㅤthis jake has me giggling and kicking my feet…
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you never thought you'd find yourself in a situation like this, and certainly not with someone like jake sim. the whole idea of fake dating was ludicrous, but desperate times called for desperate measures. your clingy ex had become a problem, and apparently, so had jake’s. you two couldn't stand each other on most days, but this scheme seemed mutually beneficial enough to warrant a temporary truce.
"are you seriously suggesting this?" jake asked, leaning back against the library table and crossing his arms. his tone was incredulous, almost mocking, as if he couldn't believe he was even entertaining the idea.
"yes, i am," you replied firmly, not breaking eye contact. the library was quiet except for the occasional rustle of paper or click of a keyboard. "it's the only way to get our exes off our backs. pretend to date, make it look convincing, and they'll eventually give up."
jake scoffed, running a hand through his dark hair, the strands falling perfectly back into place. "and what happens when they find out it's all a sham?"
you shrugged. "by then, it won’t matter. they’ll have moved on."
he stared at you for a long moment, his eyes searching your face for any sign of hesitation. finally, he sighed. "alright. let's do it. but we set some ground rules."
"obviously," you agreed. "rule one: we keep this strictly business. no real feelings involved."
"agreed. rule two: we make sure we’re seen together in public, but no over-the-top pda. it needs to look natural."
"fine with me. rule three: we communicate. if something isn’t working, we discuss it."
jake nodded. "deal."
the first few weeks were awkward, to say the least. you had to learn each other’s habits, preferences, and little quirks. it was like an accelerated crash course in getting to know someone you supposedly hated.
one afternoon, you were seated at a picnic table on campus, pretending to enjoy a lazy afternoon together. jake handed you a coffee, the familiar scent wafting up from the cup. “i noticed you always get it with two sugars and a splash of milk,” he said, his tone almost nonchalant.
you blinked, surprised. “thanks. i didn’t realize you paid attention.”
he shrugged, sitting down next to you. “i figure if we’re going to pull this off, we need to know these things.”
the campus was bustling with activity: students chatting, bikes whizzing by, and groups studying on the lawn. you and jake needed to blend in, so you leaned into him slightly, your shoulder brushing against his. he stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, putting an arm around your shoulders. to anyone else, you looked like a perfectly happy couple, but to your friends, it was a carefully crafted illusion.
weeks turned into months, and you both fell into a routine that felt oddly comfortable. your exes had seemingly taken the bait, backing off as they saw you and jake together more often. the initial awkwardness began to fade, replaced by a strange kind of camaraderie.
"how was your day?" jake asked one evening as you walked together down a tree-lined street. the sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. it was one of those rare moments when you felt at ease around him.
you glanced at him, noting the genuine curiosity in his eyes. "not bad. busy, but manageable. what about you?"
he shrugged. "same old. classes, practice, more classes." he paused, looking at you with a small smile. "but hey, at least we’re fooling everyone, right?"
you laughed softly. "yeah, we are."
jake's hand brushed against yours as you walked, and without thinking, you entwined your fingers with his. it was supposed to be just another part of the act, but something about it felt different this time. the touch lingered, warm and reassuring, sending a shiver down your spine.
a few days later, jake suggested a movie night at his place, a plan that you quickly agreed to. you arrived at his dorm to find it unexpectedly cozy. he had dimmed the lights, set up a stack of your favorite movies, and even had snacks laid out.
"wow, you went all out," you remarked, genuinely impressed by the effort he had put in.
jake chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, a hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks. "well, i figured if we’re going to do this, we might as well enjoy it, right?"
you smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. as the evening wore on, you found yourself laughing more than you had in a long time. you and jake settled into the couch, the distance between you shrinking until you were practically leaning on him.
midway through the second movie, you felt jake’s gaze on you. you turned to find him looking at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. the flickering light from the tv cast shadows across his face, highlighting the seriousness in his eyes.
"what?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart racing.
he shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "nothing. just… you’re not as bad as i thought."
you rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide your smile. "gee, thanks. you’re not so terrible yourself."
the moment stretched on, the air thick with unspoken words. without realizing it, you had moved closer, your faces inches apart. you could feel the warmth of his breath, see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. the world outside seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of you in that moment.
before you could think better of it, you closed the gap, pressing your lips to his. for a heartbeat, everything stopped. then jake responded, his kiss gentle but filled with a surprising amount of emotion. his hand came up to cradle your face, his touch tender and careful, as if he was afraid you might disappear.
you melted into the kiss, the sensation of his lips against yours sending a thrill through your entire body. time seemed to stand still, the world outside fading into oblivion. all that mattered was the warmth of his touch, the softness of his lips, and the unspoken connection that seemed to blossom between you.
when you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your hearts pounding in sync. jake’s thumb traced your cheek, his eyes searching yours with a vulnerability that made your heart ache.
"is this still part of the act?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
the realization fully sank in as you looked into his eyes, your own emotions swirling within you. you had kissed jake sim, and it had felt more real than anything you had experienced before. but why did it also feel so wrong? panic gripped you, a surge of confusion and fear making your chest tighten. you weren't ready to confront these feelings, not yet.
without thinking again, you blurted out, "yes," the word escaping your lips like a lifeline to sanity. you stood up abruptly, almost knocking over the bowl of popcorn on the table, and began gathering your things. your movements were frantic, desperate to escape the suffocating tension that had settled between you.
jake's expression shifted from vulnerable to hurt, his eyes widening in shock. "wait, what? why?" he stammered, standing up as well. "i thought we were—"
"i need to go," you cut him off, your voice trembling. "i… i can't do this right now, jake. i'm sorry."
you grabbed your bag and rushed to the door, your heart hammering in your chest. jake reached out, his fingers grazing your arm. "please, just talk to me," he pleaded, his voice breaking. "don't just leave like this."
you paused, your hand on the doorknob, torn between the urge to run and the need to explain. taking a deep breath, you turned to face him, your eyes filled with turmoil. "i… i need time to think," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "this wasn't supposed to happen. i wasn't supposed to feel like this."
jake's shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "feel like what?" he asked, his voice raw with emotion.
"like i care about you," you admitted, the words heavy with truth. "this was supposed to be fake, remember? just an act. but now… i don't know what's real anymore."
jake took a step closer, his gaze intense. "and that scares you?"
you nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. "yes. because if this is real, then everything changes. and i'm not ready for that."
he reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands. "we can figure this out together," he said softly, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. "but you don't have to run. not from me."
the warmth of his touch, the sincerity in his eyes, it all made you want to believe him. but the fear of getting hurt, of losing control, was overwhelming. you stepped back, breaking the contact. "i just need some time," you whispered. "please, jake."
he let his hands fall to his sides, his expression one of resigned understanding. "okay," he said quietly. "take all the time you need. i'll be here."
you gave him a grateful, albeit shaky, smile before turning and walking out the door. the night air was cool against your flushed skin as you made your way down the street, your mind a chaotic swirl of emotions. the kiss had been a catalyst, forcing you to confront feelings you had buried deep down. and now, you needed to sort through them, figure out what was real and what was just the remnants of your fake relationship.
days slowly turned into a week, and you found yourself constantly replaying that night in your mind. every touch, every word, every emotion. it was maddening. you avoided jake on campus, not ready to face him or your own feelings. but everywhere you went, you saw reminders of him. the coffee shop where you had shared quiet mornings, the library where your plan had first taken shape, the park bench where you had laughed and talked like real friends. the line between pretense and reality had become so blurred that it was impossible to distinguish one from the other.
for jake, the transition back to his usual routine was almost seamless. on the surface, it was as if nothing had changed. he went to classes, attended practice, and hung out with his friends. yet, there was a persistent undercurrent of something new and unsettling — thoughts of you and the kiss you shared haunted him.
he couldn't get the kiss out of his head. the way your lips moved perfectly in sync with his, creating a rhythm that felt both natural and electrifying. the soft, delicate texture of your lips was like a whisper against his own, sending shivers down his spine. he remembered the warmth that radiated from you, a gentle heat that seeped into his skin and settled in his chest. the faint taste of your lip balm lingered on his tongue, a subtle hint of vanilla mixed with something uniquely you.
he couldn't forget the way his heart had raced as he felt your breath mingle with his, the soft exhale between kisses like a shared secret. every touch, every brush of your lips, had sent a thrill through him, igniting a spark that refused to die down even after you pulled away.
despite his attempts to focus on his usual activities, the memory of that kiss was a constant distraction, a nagging thought that refused to fade.
"whatcha thinking about?" jay asked, breaking jake out of his reverie. they were sitting in the campus coffee shop, the familiar scent of brewing coffee mingling with the chatter of students.
jake blinked, trying to act casual. "nothing much," he muttered, stirring his drink absentmindedly.
jay leaned back in his chair, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "come on, jake. we all know the real reason you agreed to this fake dating thing wasn't just to get your ex off your back."
sunghoon nodded, his smirk widening. "yeah, you've had a crush on her for ages. this was your chance to get closer to her."
jake sighed, running a hand through his hair. he had confided in jay and sunghoon about his feelings for you a long time ago, back when you two couldn't stand each other — which, admittedly, wasn't all that long ago, he thinks. being with his ex had complicated things, but the crush never went away. agreeing to the fake dating scheme had seemed like a golden opportunity, despite the initial tension.
"okay, fine," jake admitted, his voice low. "i did want to get closer to her. but now… everything's so messed up."
jay's expression softened. "what happened? you guys seemed to be getting along really well."
jake hesitated, then relented. "we kissed. i don't even remember who initiated it. but it felt real, and now she's avoiding me. i don't know what to do."
sunghoon's teasing demeanor faded, replaced by genuine concern. "have you tried talking to her?"
jake nodded. "i did, but she said she needed time to think. i get it, this whole thing is confusing, but i can't stop thinking about her."
jay leaned back in his chair, thinking. "maybe she just needs some space to sort through her feelings. this whole fake dating thing probably stirred up a lot for both of you."
sunghoon nodded in agreement. "yeah, just give her some time. in the meantime, don't overthink it. sometimes people just need a little distance to figure things out."
jake sighed again, feeling a bit more reassured by his friends' advice but still uncertain about the future. "i hope you're right. i don't want to lose her, even as just a friend."
the space jake had given you made you think he had forgotten about you, that the act was, in fact, just an act. a month had passed without speaking to each other, and it felt like an eternity. you couldn't help but wonder if everything you had felt was one-sided.
jake had been on your mind constantly, every moment replaying in your head like an unending loop. the way he laughed, the way he looked at you, the way his presence alone could make your heart race. yet, the silence between you both was deafening, and it made you doubt everything.
the days seemed to drag on, each one blending into the next. you threw yourself into your studies, hoping the distraction would help, but it was no use.
you sighed as you grabbed your suitcase, preparing to head home for summer break. the hallway of your dorm was nearly empty, the usual bustling energy replaced with an eerie stillness. as you struggled with the heavy suitcase, you heard a familiar voice behind you.
"need some help with that?"
turning around, you saw jake standing there, a tank top clinging to his toned frame. the sight of him took your breath away for a moment, his tan skin glistening slightly in the summer heat.
"jake," you said, a mixture of surprise and confusion in your voice. "what are you doing here?"
he stepped closer, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "i was hoping to catch you before you left. can we talk?"
you nodded, still feeling a bit stunned by his sudden appearance. "sure. what’s up?"
jake ran a hand through his hair, looking a little uncertain. "my parents are in australia, i mean obviously they are, and well, i don't have enough money to buy myself a plane ticket. god, i should've planned better… anyway, i was thinking… maybe i could stay with you for a while? just until i figure something out. i know it's a lot to ask, and it's totally okay if it's not possible, i can find another solution, but i just thought—"
"jake, slow down," you interrupted gently, trying to suppress a smile at his nervous rambling. "it's okay."
he looked relieved but still a bit anxious. "i just… i really miss you, you know? this past month has been hell, and i keep thinking about that night, about everything, and i hate how we left things. i want to fix it, to talk, to see if we can… i don't know, figure things out. together."
your heart softened at his honesty, and seeing him here, hearing him say he missed you, was like a balm to your aching heart. "you can stay with me, jake. we'll figure things out together."
jake’s face lit up with relief and happiness. he took your suitcase from you, easily lifting it as if it weighed nothing. "thanks. you have no idea how much this means to me."
as you walked out of the dorm together, the summer sun beating down on you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. this summer break, which you had dreaded just moments ago, now held the promise of something new and wonderful.
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PERM TLㅤ ✦ㅤ @en-gelic @nishislcve @jakesprincess1 @ivsjake4evr @flwrstqr
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saenari · 3 months
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the grave ♱
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au : i’m really upset cuz there’s like no good ghostface ellie fics … just ones where she kills ur entire family which is um. definitely interesting so i took it upon myself to write one hehehe i hope u all enjoy this one !
cw : fem reader x ghostface ellie, blood, murder, ellie is kinda a perv, panty stealing, breaking and entering, strap on sex, ellie is a bit degrading, slapping, (not hard), murder obviously but don’t worry i didn’t describe it in detail at all its just hinted at, intentional lowercase, that’s it i think uhhh …
wc : 2.5k ♡
౨ৎ ever since you moved into a new apartment in new york, you had been super scared to live all on your own. it was your first time living by yourself, just a freshly out of the house person making it through life and college in this huge city. and when there started being murders documented near your apartment building, you started to search for a roommate. you set up an ad on the bulletin in the front lobby of your apartment, and soon you were living with another girl who also attended the school you went to. your best friend dina had told you about her, and when you two met you instantly clicked. her name was ellie. ellie williams.
౨ৎ she was a very attractive 20 year old, with auburn hair that reached her shoulders, and eyes deep and green like sea glass. she had many tattoos, and was a deep and interesting person. but she had a secret. she was behind every murder that had happened in the past months. she loved seeing you scared over the thought that someone might be able to break into your now shared apartment and kill you or ellie, and she loved getting to be the one to comfort you.
౨ৎ every time you tried to talk to ellie out of going out at night, she brushed you off, insisting she’d be fine. truth was, she wasn’t really going to bars or the library or anything like the sort of what she told you. instead, she was plotting to kill her next victim. she didn’t just kill randomly. she killed people who were horrible. people who were sex offenders, people who hurt you…people who got too close to you…and more. she tried to not kill every night, as it made you too worried to be away from her for too long.
౨ৎ you kept up with all the murders, wanting to figure out who did them. however, you knew you really hadn’t the slightest chance, you didn’t even know where to begin. ellie thought it was so cute how obsessed you were with the person committing the murders. “you know, i used to think ghostface was hot until there was an actual fucking person playing ghostface where WE live.” you tell ellie one night. “oh my god, you watched the movies? you seriously think ghostface is hot?” ellie says as she looks up from the joint she’s smoking, pale smoke swirling and hazing in the air. “i said i used to think he was hot.”
౨ৎ ellie fooled herself that if you knew she was ghostface, you’d accept her for who she was. she just wanted to make people pay for the things they did to society. but she knew that was almost certainly not the case, no matter how bad she wanted it to be.
౨ৎ one night, before going out, ellie was snooping around your room. you were in the shower, softly humming to yourself, which ellie thought was so adorable that she was smiling to herself as she looked around your bed. she eyed a shelf filled with cubbies, all full of your folded clothes. she pulled the cubbies out until she found the one that had your underwear in it. she pulled out a pair of soft white cotton panties, with little cherries on them. she held them up to her face before shoving them in her back pocket. she continued to look around your room before picking up a small polaroid of you and dina. she kissed the polaroid of you before putting that in her pocket as well.
౨ৎ she walked over to your shared bathroom and knocked on the door. “yeah?” you half-shout, shampooing your hair as you peek around the curtain. “i’m heading out…” ellie says. “okay just, please be careful ellie!” you shout back before going back to your shower. ellie grabs her bag before walking down all 15 flights of stairs to get down to the lobby. it’s around 10:00 at night, and she’s plotted this murder for a while now. you had told her about a man who had assaulted you at a halloween party a year ago, and she wanted revenge on him.
౨ৎ she walked down the street, before slipping into an alley. she continued to walk backstreets, until she found the building where the man lived. she slipped into the apartment building, trying not to look suspicious. it was pretty late, and there was no one hanging around in the halls as everyone was on high alert of the murders. ellie slips into the man’s apartment and…well…you can guess what happens next.
౨ৎ the next morning, you wake up to ellie back home, already making you breakfast. you step out of your room, wearing cute small tight pink shorts with a lacy pink trimmed tank top. your frilly and cute socks on your feet tread lightly across the floor as you approach ellie. she loved the way you dressed. you looked like a cute innocent bunny. exactly the opposite of ellie.
౨ৎ ellie hands you a plate of toast, eggs, and bacon and you thank her before you two sit on the couch and turn on the news. you two watch the news, which had become a regular habit of yours to turn on. low and behold, the murder had obviously been reported and was being covered right now. you listen intently, hearing about how the man was found with over twenty stab wounds. “oh my god, i know him! he was a dick, though.” you say to ellie as you finish your breakfast. you take your and ellie’s plates to the sink before ellie speaks up. “hey, could you get me my phone from my room?” ellie asks, not thinking anything of this.
౨ৎ “of course.” you say as you walk over to ellie’s room, hair swinging as ellie stares at you whilst you walk into her room. you immediately see ellie’s bag on her bed. you walk over to her bed, looking for her phone as you see a knife sticking out of the pack. when you go to investigate further, you see that the knife is covered in dried blood. you open ellie’s bag to find a ghost face mask and more dried blood all over it. your mind starts racing. your roommate…? but, there’s no way. it couldn’t be her. it just couldn’t. you pick up the knife into your hand, turning it over and running your soft finger over the sharp blade. you don’t know how to feel. on one hand, you love ellie. but on the other…
౨ৎ ellie walks in. “hey, what’s taking you so…” she looks down at the bloody knife in your hands, and her eyes dash back up to your wide eyes. she’s speechless. “ellie…are you…” she quickly walks over to you. “i’m…this isn’t how i wanted you to find out, i…” she trails off, before grabbing your hand and gently but firmly pulling the knife out of your fingers. “ellie…i just…can you explain to me why?” ellie sighs and sits down on her bed before hiding her face in her hands. “i just…there’s a lot of bad people in this world bun, y’know? and so many of them deserve to be in jail but they aren’t, they…they have to be punished somehow.” she tried to explain through some slight sobs. “ellie…i..” you stutter, not sure how to respond. “i still love you, ellie.” you finally say after what felt like hours of silence. she looks up at you, eyes glassy. “are you serious?” she says, holding your forearm as your arm rests on her shoulder. “yes. yes, i am. i just, need some time to process this. but…i can look past it. i meant it when i said ghostface was hot.” you laugh, trying to relieve some of the tension.
౨ৎ the next night, ellie comes into your room. you’re sitting at in a little reading nook the was built into your apartment, with a view of the city from a window covered by a sheer white curtain. you’re sitting in the nook, curled up with a book. with she leans against the doorframe, looking at you. she smiles lightly to herself. “hey, ellie.” you say, looking up at her. though you knew she was behind the murders, you had come to terms with it. after all, she was doing it for a good cause…right?
౨ৎ she came over to you and put her hands on your shoulder. “hey bun.” she runs her hands over your arm, which makes you shiver. you shut your book before standing up to look at her. “not going out tonight?” you say as you look at her. she cups the side of your face. you look at her before deciding, fuck it. you kiss her, sloppily, which she loves. she takes your bottom lip into her teeth before biting softly on it. she pulls away, looking deep into your eyes. “are you sure you want this?” she says, still looking at you intently. “yes, ellie, just fucking kiss me…” you say as she pulls you in immediately.
౨ৎ her hands trail up behind you, rubbing your back with one hand while the other goes to cradle the back of your neck, still locking lips in a passionate kiss. she backs you onto the nook, sitting softly beside you, tracing her hand along your thigh, still locked in to the embrace. you would never admit that this was your deepest desire, kissing the person behind the ghostface mask. you were so obsessed with the case for a reason…you wanted to feel the person behind everything kiss you, feel their hands on you, making you theirs…
౨ৎ you felt ellie’s hands trace along your waist, as she slips them under your shirt to feel your soft skin on hers. “ellie..i want you so fucking bad.” you whisper into her ear as she bites and sucks on the skin around your neck. “shh…bun, i know…i know…” she says softly as she starts to take off your shirt. “this okay, pup?” she says as she reaches and tugs at the ends of your shirt. “yes.” you say softly as she swiftly pulls the shirt over your head before tossing it on the floor. she looks down at your bare skin. “no bra…?” she says, slightly surprised. “i’m at home, why would i need to wear one?” you say, rolling your eyes. ellie starts to kiss your neck as she rubs one of your sensitive and soft nipples between her fingers. you whimper softly as she pulls at the tender bud. she helps you move so you sit with your back to her chest, as she trails her hand down into your shorts. she slips them off before rubbing your cunt through your lacy cotton panties. “fuck, bun, i’ve barely touched you and you’re so fucking wet…bend over for me.” you immediately do as you’re told, bending yourself over onto the little nook, ass up in the air like a dog. you bury your face into a soft pink fluffy pillow shaped like a heart.
౨ৎ “goddamn, i wish you could see yourself right now, so fucking pretty, all ready for me.” she trails her hands down your sides before smacking your ass, leaving a burning pinkish hand print on the side of you. she palms and gropes at your thigh and ass, wanting to feel up every part of of you. “shit, baby…” she says as she unzips her pants, pulling out her strap. “shit- g’na fuck this pussy so good-” she says as she grabs a knife from her jeans, cutting off your panties before throwing them on top of her jeans. those were definitely now hers. she drags the blade across your thigh, not enough to cut, but enough to make you whimper. “i wanna fucking mark you up so bad.” she says as she drags the blade a bit deeper, letting little beads of blood pill on the knife. “ellie-!” you scream out as she drops the knife and rubs the blood around on your thigh. “fuck, baby, you’re so goddamn beautiful.” she brings her bloody hand up to her mouth before tasting your blood on her fingertips.
౨ৎ she grabs your ass before sliding herself into you. “you okay, baby?” she says as she starts to speed up her movements slightly. you barely mutter out a “yes” before she starts to speed up, thrusting into you, hitting the back of your gummy walls. you moan out ellie’s name like prayer. you hear her fucking you, the sound of your wetness and her soft grunts and moans fill the room. your mind is absolutely blank, only focusing on how good ellie is making you feel. she places a few soft kisses down your back. “you’re taking me so fucking well, fucking small pussy just begging to get fucked, huh?” ellie smiles to herself.
౨ৎ you felt her thighs brush against the back of your legs, fucking you just roughly enough to make you feel amazing. ellie’s hand shoved the back of your head into the pillow you were cradling. “i was gonna go easy on you, but since you don’t seem to be complaining…” she keeps up her movements inside you. “ah- ellie! i...im-” you moaned out, not being able to stifle your cries. you felt your neglected puffy clit cry out as ellie moved her hand to rub the sensitive bundle of nerves, kissing your back. as your milky white cum poured over her strap, she thrusted a few more times before pulling out of you. if we’re weren’t absolutely fucked out of your mind, you would’ve been embarrassed your roommate saw you like this, ass up in the air, cunt dripping and wet. as she helped you up onto your bed, pulling up a fresh pair of underwear on you and helping you put back on your shirt, she caressed your thigh where there was a scab forming over the small slit where she cut you.
౨ৎ “i’m sorry bun- i just, kinda got lost in the moment-” she said before you cut her off. “shut up, i fucking loved that. next time can we do it with the mask on?” you smile at her. “so i did a good job?” she says, like she wasn’t just rearranging your guts and making you scream and tear up just a few minutes ago. ellie gets up and brings you some water before you two cuddle each other.
౨ৎ “so…you wanna keep doing this then?” she says as she kisses your forehead. murderer or not, ellie was in your life no matter what.
♡ hai so basically this def didn’t turn out how i wanted oh well even tho i proofread there’s probably still mistakes sorry … i’m trying desperately to not make ellie sound like a stone cold fucking man during sex i’m really sorry bro it’s hard tbh i wanna make her dominant but also not afraid to moan and praise u when ur fucking help me 😭 i hope u all enjoy man i lowkey dipped my balls into this srsly ♡
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sleepyjuice · 4 months
Text
r u mine? — jj maybank
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summary: you weren’t sure what to call you and jj. friends with benefits? a situationship? either way, the two of you certainly acted like more than friends.
word count: 4181
warnings: lowkey toxic!jj but we love him, jealousy, smut 18+!!!, unprotected p in v sex, squirting, creampie, some fluff
a/n: i am quite proud of this one so I really hope y’all like it! let me know what you think! <3
“Ugh, I hate that word.” You shook your head, taking a swig of your nearly lukewarm beer, grimacing at the skunked taste on your tongue.
“What else would you call it?” Sarah scoffed, raising her eyebrows inquisitively at you as she playfully shoved your knee.
“Hanging out, I don’t know…” you mumbled, your feet playing absently with the sand below you.
“Yeah, okay. It’s okay to call it what it is. A situationship.” Sarah grinned, nodding her head oh so matter of factly at you.
You and Sarah somehow ended up at a kook party. It just kind of happened. It had been awhile since the two of you had been to one, but seeing as the rest of your friends either had plans or were working, it was either this or another night at home, but the former somehow seemed only slightly more appealing.
You didn’t like labels, but if you had to pick one, you were a pogue. You were in a similar boat as Sarah and Kiara. Rich parents, but you hated nothing more than the snobby, ‘I’m so much better than you’ lifestyle the people on your side of the island lived by. By no means were you ungrateful for the life you were given. Your privilege was not ignored. But it was the country club luncheons and the uptight fakeness and the general attitudes of those you grew up around that you wanted no part of. So one day, you met Kiara, and the two of you clicked almost instantly, both of you finding solace in someone who shared the same views. Next up you met Sarah, and the three of you were inseparable. Your friendship was great until it wasn’t, and you and Kie found home in a group of boys from the cut while Sarah completely turned the other way.
But that was old news, history. Sarah came around, started macking on John b, and the three of you eventually made up. Shit happens.
So here you were, on your third beer, sitting on the beach next to Sarah, the full blown kook party going on only a few hundred feet behind you. The two of you tried to mingle, but that lasted for a total of about five minutes before you took advantage of several coolers stocked to the brim with beers, each of you grabbing a few cans before making your way down to the mostly empty beach in front of the Oceanside home holding the party.
You found comfort in the peace and tranquility of the ocean, the soft glow of the moonlight illuminating your senses could have very well brought you peace, if your phone wasn’t blowing up with messages every few minutes.
jj maybank: you really ain’t gonna text me back? got me over here double texting and shit??
jj maybank: knew you’d go back to full kook eventually. my lifestyle ain’t enough for you huh?
jj maybank: alright that was out of pocket I can’t lie my b
You and jj had gotten along since the second you met. Apparently Kiara had been hyping you up, because surprisingly, jj showed zero apprehension to letting another ‘kook’ join his circle. The attraction was also immediate, on both ends, but that took a bit longer to come out. Shared glances weren’t uncommon, neither were legs brushing against each other on the boat, even though there was more than enough room for the two of you to sit apart.
You and jj were friends for about a month before you hooked up the first time. It wasn’t anything crazy, you were both drunk and horny and one thing led to another. It was sloppy and pretty quick. But instead of it being a one and done deal, it kept happening, no alcohol involved.
You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment where it went from purely sex to more, but it just happened. You and jj would spend time alone without the rest of your friends, cuddling on the couch at the chateau while everyone was out, or you calling jj late at night sobbing after a particularly nasty argument with your parents, which led to him climbing through your bedroom window and staying the night, sneaking out before you woke up the next day. Since that night, you would keep your bedroom window cracked ever so slightly, and most nights, like clockwork, jj would make the familiar climb up and through the window to be with you. Sometimes this led to sex, but other times it didn’t. That’s why it was weird.
You had both agreed that you weren’t in a relationship. jj for one didn’t want to commit, and you didn’t either. Several shitty relationships prior to meeting jj would taint your view on love. So it seemed like you were on the same page, but both of your actions proved otherwise.
This is why it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence that jj was currently blowing up your phone. For two people who are not in a relationship, you both had your fair share of jealousy issues. But you shouldn’t, because you’re not in a relationship.
“He’s freaking out right now,” you groaned, turning to Sarah with an exasperated sigh as your eyes glazed over the messages on your phone, “he’s mad that I’m not responding and that I’m here, but he knows it’s Kelce’s birthday party and so he assumes Jake is here since they’re best friends… but he’s acting like I’m gonna do something, like are you serious?” You vented, finishing off the last few drops of your beer.
Jake was your most recent ex. Total asshole. You cringed every time you thought about your time shared together, hating the fact that you ever gave him the time of day. He was overly preppy, but also overly possessive, yet he still cheated on you. Imagine that.
“He’s mad about Jake?!” Sarah gaped, leaning in closer to you as she glanced down at your phone, not missing the texts flooding through from jj.
“That’s what I’m saying… I hate him, and it’s not like I’m gonna cheat on him —“
“Ah, you can’t cheat on someone you’re not dating.” Sarah hummed, shaking her head at you.
“Ugh, you know what I mean. This situationship bullshit is so stupid. But either way, that’s a valid point. Not only do I want nothing to do with Jake, but even if I did, jj isn’t my boyfriend, so he shouldn’t even be mad,” you rambled, pausing for a moment before looking back down to your phone, “yeah, no, that’s a good point, that’s what I’m gonna say.” You mumbled as you began typing out a response to jj’s multitude of texts.
you: you say it’s about the kooks but seems to me like it’s one kook in particular you’re mad about
you: yeah, jake is here. I ain’t dumb jj, you’re transparent as fuck lmao
you: also I’m just trying to figure out why you’re mad bc you know I hate him but even if I wanted him, why would that be your problem? We’re not dating soooo??
you: have a good night at work! <3
You locked your phone, but not before putting it on do not disturb and shoving it in the back pocket of your denim shorts.
“Oh, well now he’s gonna lose his shit even more.” Sarah giggled, having watched you type out your messages.
“I don’t care, let him. He’s pissing me off.” You shrugged, rolling your eyes, but you couldn’t help but laugh along with Sarah. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but the thought of jj freaking out with jealousy over you made your stomach tingle. Just a little bit though…
An hour had passed since you had texted jj and you haven’t checked your phone once. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the slightest bit curious to see his response, but your stubbornness was strong, outweighing your curiosity for the time being. The four beers in your system helped too, lightening up your overall mood and somewhat helping you forget about jj for a little while.
You were only a little tipsy at this point, but you and Sarah had mutually agreed to call it a night and start your trek home.
You both felt generally safe walking home. Streets were pretty well lit and it was figure 8, all the drunk creepy frat guys you had to worry about were down the street at the party.
“Hey, text me when you get home, okay? And keep me updated on jj whenever you check your phone. I’m honestly surprised he didn’t show up at Kelce’s after that exchange.” Sarah giggled as the two of you approached her house, giving her a quick hug goodbye and promising to update her. You only lived one street away from her, and she had plans with John b early the next morning so you decided to not sleepover this time.
You continued your journey home after seeing that Sarah had made it inside safely, sighing to yourself as the soft island breeze gently blew against your face, cooling down your slightly flushed cheeks.
You arrived home only five minutes later, tiptoeing through your dark home so as to not wake your sleeping parents, humming softly to yourself once you made your way upstairs and into your bedroom, pulling your shirt over your head and letting it fall onto the floor before fishing your phone out of your back pocket and tossing it onto the bed as you went to unbutton your shorts.
“Oh, so you do have a phone.”
You gasped, nearly screaming as you scrambled to flip your lights on, immediately spotting jj laid back on your bed, hands behind his head as he leaned seemingly comfortably against your headboard.
“jj what the fuck?!” You whisper yelled, wishing more than anything that your parents weren’t home so you could truly yell at him. You didn’t have to question how he got in, though. You had left your window cracked like you always did, as jj would have more than likely came over tonight anyways, but that was before you had started bickering over text. He had done this before, too, surprising you in your bedroom while you were at work or out with friends, coming home to the boy waiting for you in your bed.
“You put your shit on ‘do not text’ or whatever and I couldn’t get ahold of you. I was going to go straight to Kelce’s party, but I took a moment to consider the fact that that wouldn’t be a good idea, so I decided to wait for you here. Were you just gonna ignore me all night?” He sat up once you had acknowledged his presence, his hands playing with one of your pillows as he looked at you.
“First of all, it’s ’do not disturb’ and second, you were blowing up my shit and being annoying. Therefore, you were disturbing me.” You rolled your eyes, feeling jj’s eyes on you as you grabbed a sleep shirt from your closet and pulled it over your head before sitting on the edge of your bed as you worked to untie your shoes.
“Why do you do this to me?” jj whispered after a few moments of silence, scooting himself closer to where you were sat.
“What am I doing to you, jj?” You asked, not looking at him as you removed your first shoe, now untying the other.
“You — fuck. You make me fuckin’ crazy. I don’t like that I feel like this.” He muttered, and you could feel by the movements in the bed that he was anxiously adjusting and readjusting his hat, an anxious tick you had picked up quite early in your friendship with him.
“I make you crazy?” You questioned, your brows raising as you kicked off your other shoe and finally turned to look at the boy sat behind you on your bed.
“Yeah, and I hate it. Got me… got me checking my phone every two seconds to see if you texted me, fuckin’ — picturing you with that douchebag ex of yours… literally has my heart pounding. Like I can’t think about anything else.” He admitted, and you couldn’t miss the way his knee was shaking anxiously, his fingers playing absently with your blanket, yet he still kept his gaze on you.
“jj…” you breathed, your voice softening now. You felt for him. You knew it wasn’t easy for him to express his feelings, and you didn’t want to dismiss the way he was feeling just because you had argued. You would also be lying if you said you wouldn’t be jealous if he was around his ex all night… but you can blame that on your shitty past relationships, not because you didn’t want jj around girls he used to call his… definitely unrelated.
“Listen, I get what you’re saying, okay?” You sighed, slowly placing your hand on his bouncing knee. “But… we aren’t dating. We’re just friends who sleep together, you know?” You added quietly, hating the words that left your mouth, but it was the truth. There was no gentle way to say it.
“You’re right, you’re right. But let me just,” he reached for your hand over his knee, moving it to your side, “let’s just not talk about that right now, okay?” He licked his bottom lip, his hands now finding your thighs, rubbing the soft skin slowly, his fingertips inching their way up past the top of your shorts and underneath your shirt.
You didn’t speak as he took a hold of the bottom of your shirt, lifting the fabric over your head, leaving you completely bare from the waist up. You didn’t protest, your body heating up at his touch like it always did. He let out a long breath as he took in the sight of you before him, his hands quickly grabbing your tits, squeezing the soft flesh in his calloused hands, causing your back to arch slightly, your lips parting as an almost inaudible gasp left your lips.
His eyes found yours quickly following your reaction and you nodded at him, no words spoken between the two of you as you fully gave into his touch, crawling all the way onto your bed and scooting yourself back towards your pillows.
“So pretty..” he cooed, his fingers pinching your hard nipples, making you whimper softly, fully giving into him. You reached forward, pulling his hat off of his head and tossing it onto the floor alongside your shirt, your fingers entangling in his messy locks as you pulled him closer to you, wrapping your legs around his middle, bringing his face right up to yours before you connected your lips.
You hummed into the familiar feeling of your soft lips against his, and only a few seconds passed before your mouths had both parted and your tongues were moving sloppily together, his soft groans sending vibrations into your mouth and through your body, your core feeling even hotter and wetter as the seconds passed.
His hands continued to toy with your tits, but they eventually began to trail down your stomach, unbuttoning your shorts blindly as you continued to kiss. You lifted your hips up as he tugged the denim down your legs, leaving you in just your underwear.
You opened your mouth in protest when he suddenly pulled away from the kiss, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you caught your breath, about to say something about him pulling away but stopping once you watched as he pulled his shirt over his head, and your attention was now turned to his naked torso.
“Shh, I got you, I got you.” He murmured, his hands now tugging the zipper of his cargo shorts down, ridding himself of his shorts entirely, the two of you now only in underwear. Your eyes flew immediately to the ever present bulge in his boxers, and you didn’t miss the wet spot right where the tip of his dick was, no doubt leaking precum. You had almost an identical wet spot in your underwear as well, your arousal practically dripping out of you as each second passed, eager for his touch.
“jj, please.” You grumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lowered himself back down to you, your lips connecting again, this time moving a lot quicker and more sloppily than only moments ago. Your centers both connected within seconds, you bucking your hips up to grind against him and him grinding himself down against you. Who had gone for it first, who knew. You were certainly on the same page.
“Please what, baby? Hm?” He breathed, holding himself up above you with only one hand as his other wriggled its way between your bodies and down to your wet core, fingers barely even teasing at the waistband before he slipped them inside, cupping your pussy.
“Fuck —“ you moaned, shamelessly grinding yourself against his hand, desperately aching for more of him. The feeling of just his hand had you crumbling, any thoughts of your disagreement from earlier were long gone and forgotten in this moment.
“Use your words, baby. You want my fingers?” He questioned, already knowing the answer.
“Yes, yes, please. Touch me.” You answered immediately, and that was all it took for him to yank your underwear down your legs and push his middle finger inside of you, effortlessly sliding into your slick yet tight walls. Your head fell back onto your pillow, a long exhale leaving your swollen lips as he pumped his finger quickly, adding a second after you began to adjust.
“Goddamn, you’re fuckin’ soaked, woman.” He spoke lowly, quickening his pace once he found a good rhythm, curling his fingers into your g-spot, emitting soft whimpers and curses from your lips, you still being half mindful of your sleeping parents down the hall.
The sight of jj’s furrowed brows and parted pink lips had your stomach turning, and you watched as he watched intently at the sight of his fingers moving in and out of your pussy, a look of concentration mixed with arousal evident upon his features. That and the spots his fingers had found inside of you had you crumbling quickly, your fingertips that were lazily resting in his hair now gripped tightly into his locks, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your orgasm approaching quickly.
“jj, gonna cum, oh fuck, oh — oh god.” You panted, head flat on your pillows now as you felt him quicken his pace, hearing his own moans as you pulled on his hair.
“Yeah, let go for me, baby, come on now.” He urged, and that was all it took for you to let go, your orgasm hitting you at full force. He quickly shot his free hand up to your face to cover your mouth, quieting your loud cries of pleasure. He loved the sound of your sweet moans, but being caught by your parents would be less than ideal. You cried into his palm, your juices gushing out of you and all over jj’s hand and torso, dripping down and soaking his stomach and boxers.
“Oh fuck, that’s right, so good, so good, huh?” He cooed, his fingers slowing down as you rode out your high, uncovering your mouth once you had fully finished and planting several soft kisses all over your parted lips as you worked to catch your breath.
You lifted your head after a moment, your eyes opening to meet his hungry gaze, untangling your fingers from his hair to reach for his boxers. You needed more of him.
“Need you now.” You spoke, voice still a bit shaky as you had just caught your breath. You removed his boxers with his help, his leaking cock springing free from the restraint of the tight fabric. Your mouth watered at the sight, watching as he pumped himself slowly, finally giving himself some relief.
“Need me inside you, sweet girl? Hm?” He licked his bottom lip as you nodded eagerly, a smug grin present on his lips at your neediness. You didn’t care, he could be cocky after the orgasm he just gave you. He could have his moment.
“Please. Please fuck me.” You pleaded, pushing your hips up to rub yourself against his cock. He groaned at the contact, giving himself a few more pumps before tapping his tip against your sensitive clit, causing you to gasp and push your thighs together purely out of reflex.
“Ahh, keep those legs open for me. Gotta open up so I can fuck you, sweet thing.” He tisked, pushing your thighs open with his free hand, positioning his cock against your entrance, slowly pushing himself in. Once halfway inside, his hand trailed down from your thigh to grab your ankle, lifting your leg to wrap around his back, quickly doing the same with your other leg.
Finally getting you positioned like he wanted, he pushed himself all the way in, jaw going slack once he bottomed out, grunting at the depth he reached inside of you.
“Fuuckkk,” he breathed, his messy hair falling onto his forehead as he looked down at the two of you, fully connected. He inhaled sharply before he began moving, struggling to keep his eyes open as your tight pussy hugged his cock perfectly. But he wanted to watch you, that was one of the best parts.
You did everything in your power to not scream, his cock immediately hitting all the right spots inside of you, his pelvis hitting your clit with every thrust. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning however, your arms wrapping around his neck to hold you up, keeping your body somewhat up. Your fingernails found home in the soft skin of his back, each trust and movement he made surely forming scratches into the skin.
“So good, so good,” he moaned, sweat beading past his hairline as he found the perfect pace, his balls slapping your ass as his cock disappeared inside of you, “you’re fucking perfect, yeah, oh fuck.” He breathed shakily, almost whining as you squeezed your legs tighter around his torso, his body pushing closer to you if possible, his dick hitting deep inside your wet pussy.
You were a mess beneath him. The tension throughout the night and the way he was fucking you perfectly was not doing anything to prolong your orgasm. But you could feel by the way he pulsated inside of you that he wasn’t going to last long either.
“Shit, I’m close, baby. Where d’you want me to cum?” He asked, slowing his thrusts for a moment as he attempted to gain composure of himself, wanting to give you one last orgasm before he finished.
You didn’t even hesitate before responding.
“Inside.” You answered, eyes looking up to meet his.
He cocked his head in confusion, stilling his movements following your words, almost unsure if he had heard you correctly.
“Don’t fuck with me —“
“I’m not, jj. Please. Want you to cum inside me.” You assured him, pushing your hips up, urging him to move again.
“You… okay.” He resumed his movements, each thrust bringing both you and him closer to the edge.
“Oh fuck jj, I’m gonna cu-“
“Say you’re mine.” He cut you off, not stopping his movements, his breathing was shaky but his voice was steady, and he was serious.
“What?” You panted, your chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Say you’re mine.” He repeated himself, soft grunts following his words as he watched your face below him.
You knew what he was saying, and maybe it was the impending orgasm, or maybe it was the fact that you had never felt this way with anyone before him. Maybe after you said it and you both finished you would both get hit with that post nut clarity and go back on your words, but you could figure all of that out later. You could be his. You wanted to be his.
“I’m yours.” You spoke, and that was all it took for him to reach his end, his balls tightening, thrusts sloppy but still quick as he released inside of you in hot spurts, his face falling forward as he moaned, triggering your own release.
The wet sounds of his cock pushing into your cum filled pussy filled the room, his movements slowing down as you both rode out your highs together, eventually stopping completely before he slowly pulled himself out of you.
His cum leaked out of you almost immediately, but jj was quick to reach over the side of the bed and grab his shirt, placing it under your leaking pussy.
“Shit,” he breathed, rubbing your lower stomach gently as your bodies both began to relax, leaning down to kiss your swollen lips gently.
“You still mine?” He asked after a few moments of silence, mentally preparing himself for your rejection, nervous you had only said that in the heat of the moment. He meant what he said though.
“Mhm, I’m still yours.”
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