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#And then they MAKE you explain why when you don’t even want to bc you know it’ll escalate it
kimetsu-chan · 1 day
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~playing in the snow headcanons~
A/N: so I asked five of my friends if I should have snow or instruments be the main focus on what I was gonna write, and four of em said snow :3 so we got some playing in the snow headcanons with some my fav bsd characters.
Characters: Akutagawa, Atsushi, Chuuya, Sigma, Nikolai, Ranpo, Kyouka, Lucy, and Tanizaki
TWs ⚠️: Uhh- I don’t think there are any, but it is important to note that Kyouka’s is the only one that is written to be strictly platonic. You can choose romantic or platonic for the others :D GN!Reader
I think there are slight spoilers in Sigma’s?
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Akutagawa Ryūnosuke
It would take a lot of convincing to get that man within five feet of the door. And I mean a lot.
Why would you want to go outside in the freezing cold when you can stay inside where it’s nice and cozy?!
Once you explain to him that you want to play in the snow, he gets even more confused.
Why-?
He’d be sitting in a chair, his feet propped up on something with a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other while staring up at you like you just grew two heads.
After you told him it was fun and something you really wanted to do, he stare for a second or two longer before spitting out a response.
“Okay….? Then go play in the snow..? What, do you need my permission??”
“No, I want you do come with me, Ryū!”
He would let silence envelope you so for a moment or so before saying a quick and simple “No.” and going back to reading.
After some puppy dog eyes and the best begging you could muster(alone with a deal that you’d leave him alone for at least six hours afterwards) he’d finally go with you.
And when he was dressed up and finally ready to go outside with you, he’d watch you excitedly start making a snowman with a fond look on his face.(he will deny enjoying this for the rest of time.)
Atsushi Nakajima
He is hopping out of his seat and putting five coats on at the mere mention of snow.
Heck yes he wants to go out and play in the snow with you!
Did you even have to ask?
You could tell him to put some warm clothes on and be ready to go outside and he’d do it in a heartbeat and with absolutely zero hesitation.
The first thing he wants to do when yall get outside is make snow angels. And he wants your snow angel to “hold hands” with his (they’re just next to each other)
He’ll let you choose what to do next, deeming it “only fair” since he got to choose first.
“No- [Name]-San-! You get to chose!”
“But I don’t know what I want to do, Atsu, you should pick!”
It would be just a bunch of giggly “no you”s back and forth until you finally relent and ask to make a snowman.
And you best believe that he is going to make that the most cozy looking snowman you’ve ever seen.
It is going to be even more fashionable than Chuuya Nakahara. (No it’s not.)
Chuuya Nakahara
Once again, a lot of convincing will be needed.
What did you expect? The man is extremely busy like 24/7, he doesn’t have time to play in the snow?
But he can’t just deny you when you come up to him to ask him so sweetly if he can please come play with you in the snow.
He wants nothing more than to accept and make you happy, but he really needs to finish his work.
So he sighs and comes up with an alternative.
“How about this, [Name]. I’ll work for about another thirty minutes, then we can go outside, okay?”
“That works! Thanks Chuuya!”
“You’re welco-“
He gets cut off when you roughly wrap your arms around him in a quick hug before running off to do who knows what.
He stares off after you for a few seconds before turning back to his work with a shake of his head and smile.
(Extra bc we can’t end Chuuya’s w/o him actually getting outside 🤭)
When he actually finishes his work, he exited his office to see you already playing outside.
He decided that it would be most fun to quickly get ready and sneak up on you, who was busily forming the base of a snow fort.
There was a yelp as cold snow fell on top of you, and you turned to glare at the ginger who was smirking smugly.
But don’t worry, you got him back by pushing him over into the snow and dropping some snow down his shirt.
Sigma
Poor boy-
Being three years old, the poor guy has never played with snow once in his entire life.
So when you ask him to go with you, you’ll have to explain to him what the heck snowmen and snowball fights were.
He’s mildly interested when you do explain, but he doesn’t quite understand the point.
Doesn't being outside in the cold for a long time give you the risk to get sick?
Overall, he’s rather confused about the purpose of playing with cold, wet snow, but he’d agree.
Once he was free, that is.
And that turned out to be a lot quicker than he thought it would, perhaps it’s because your “silly” wants have peaked his interest.
He would quickly finish his duties his duties within the sky casino, and go to find you and get ready.
When you guys step outside, Sigma immediately felt chilly. The high altitude of the casino only making it colder.
“[Name]… Are you sure this is a good idea-“
He grunted as a snowball landed square in his face.
You giggled as you saw him frozen as he processed what you just did.
Before you could ask if he was okay, he quickly picked up some snow and threw it back at you.
He had a small smirk on his face, oh it was game on.
Nikolai Gogol
Oh boy.
He was the one who initially proposed the idea of playing in the snow, because why wouldn’t he.
He doesn’t care if he’s supposed to be busy, he’s dragging you outside with him whether you like it or not.
You could be busy, you could be relaxing, and he’s suddenly ambushing you and struggling to get a coat over your head.
He will make sure you’re nicely dressed for being in the snow.
After all, you’re no fun if you’re sick.
As he’s yanking you to your feet and dressing you in so many layers, you may as well become a fur ball at this point, he’ll be running his mouth, explaining in grave detail what he wanted to do.
“Okay, so first, we’re gonna make little forts, then we’re gonna hide behind them and throw snowballs at each other. Now- I promise not to throw them too hard, okay?”(that’s a lie, he’ll throw them as hard as he pleases)
You could only watch and nod as he led you outside to begin building.
I sure hope you wrote out your will.
Ranpo Edogawa
He’s busy eating snacks working at his desk, when you came in.
He took one look at your face and flushed cheeks from already having been outside for a while, and knew exactly what you wanted.
He debated whether or not abandoning his precious sna— I uh- I mean work just to make you happy.
He thought it over for a second and decided he could go a little bit without his food, and could grace you with his wonderful presence.
He stood up from his seat with his usual smirk and pointed his unfinished lollipop in your direction.
You didn’t even get to ask him before he started bargaining with you.
“I’ll go outside with you on one condition, you gotta buy me lunch.”
You paused, that actually didn’t sound that bad, so you agreed.
You two quickly got dressed (after Ranpo put his snacks away) and headed out of the office to play in the snow, leaving a extremely frustrated Kunikida at the door yelling at you.
It wasn’t very long before all the grass/ground surrounding the agency was covered in snow angels.
Kyouka Izumi
To be honest, I see Kyouka getting rather excited.
Sure she hadn’t done it in a long time, but Kyouka used to love to play in the snow when she was younger.
It was kinda a bittersweet thing to her.
So when you asked, she was more than willing to go with you. She gently grabbed your hand and led you all the way to her and Atsushi’s dorm to get some warm clothes.
Seeing that she didn’t have enough to comfortably be outside, you took your scarf that was hanging loosely on your shoulders off and wrapped it around her neck to help her keep warm.
Kyouka smiled at you when you did so then with increased energy, she took your hand again and made her way outside.
She immediately opened her mouth and tried to catch a falling snowflake on her tongue, being successful in doing so.
She turned to you with wide eyes and pointed at where the now-melted snowflake had been.
“[Name], did you see that?”
“Mhm!”
“[Name], let’s go make snowmen..!”
Before you could even respond, Kyouka grabbed your hand and jogged to the nearest open space to make a snowman.
You guys ended up making two, a bigger one complete with its younger sister.
Lucy Maud Montgomery
Lucy, much like Akutagawa, would decline immediately at first.
She’s in the middle of a shift, she can’t just abandon her job as a waitress.
Or so she thought.
Until her boss gave her the go-ahead that she could take a break and go play in the snow.
Her next argument would be that she was “too mature” to go play in snow.
But then you turned that right back around at her and asked if that meant you were immature.
She stuttered and blushed from embarrassment as she denied what you said.
“N-No-! I didn’t mean you were immature! I just-“
“Then let’s go!”
Cue you grabbing her arm and running towards the building door and shoving her coat that you stole earlier into her arms.
Lucy sighed and reluctantly pulled her coat over her arms and stepped outside with you.
In the end, you guys had a lot of fun running around and pushing each other into the snow.
Tanizaki Jun’ichirō
Actually, Tanizaki was the one who suggested the idea.
He said it would be a fun way to get a break from all their work(totally not because he wanted to show off his snowball fight skills, nooo-)
He would offer to fetch your coat for you when you agreed, doing so anyway when you declined his offer.
He held your coat out for you as he put on his own on, happily suggesting the snowball fight he was planning.
You agreed, not thinking about how he could use his ability to his advantage.
And that’s exactly what he did.
He hid behind a tree and made his illusion self dash to hide somewhere else, effectively turning your attention away from where he actually was.
He hit you in the back of the head a little harder than he meant to, and immediately stood up to rush over and see if you were hurt.
“[Name]! I’m sorry, I didn’t me— AGH-“
Karma came so sweetly as he slipped and landed on his back.
There were no hard feelings though, you guys called a truce and laughed about it for the rest of the day
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A/N: these were so fun to write, omg-
I hope you liked it! Please consider liking/reblogging if you did :3
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kitskiis · 1 day
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I think the saddest part about secret life Joel is just how futile all of his actions are in that season. On a surface level i mean stuff like all of his more careful gameplay being cancelled out by a singular failed tnt trap but on a deeper level i specifically mean how that character contrasts with last life Joel. Joel is undoubtedly at his lowest point in the life series in Last Life. He goes down to red in session 2 and spends the majority of the rest of the season alone (and when he does have allies it’s only bc of a shared bloodlust). The red bloodlust completely takes over and this festers for nearly *8 sessions*. Not only that but the one time he is given a chance to restart and go back to yellow his old alliance member goes to red, leaving him alone again, and he is made boogeyman the next session. This, overall, has lasting consequences (he actually wanted to be fairly friendly at the beginning of LL, a stark contrast to how bloodthirsty he was at the beginning of DL or Lim L), and gained him a reputation that has never fully gone away. This is especially bad bc most people agree that LL was the most violent season (despite the lower kill counts in comparison to LimL) and was generally the worst and most traumatizing experience in the games for most people involved. Compare this to secret life, which everyone agrees was definitely the happiest season for Joel (or at least the most normal. His life is a tragedy no matter the season.) he has allies that (for the most part rip mumbo) stick with him until the end, he is friendlier with a larger group of people, and when he initially has to deal with the loss of some of them he has people who can ground him (bc as much as I adore the bad boys, grian was not qualified to do that). He was so hopeful that season, and was generally in a much healthier place mentally. And yet, despite how much he seemed to have grown, those 2 seasons ended so similarly for him it was almost comical. Joel engaged in a fight at the end, watched his ally get killed by scott, and is then forced into a 2v1 against Scott and another player that results in Scott taking his final life and him finishing 5th overall. I was describing both of those seasons here. After everything he did to grow, after all the improvements he had made, everything ended *exactly the same*
Making this about the bad boys for a second (because I’m me) they kinda suffer similar fates. Grian learned in the most tragic way possible that his allies were doomed to fail as long as he was with them no matter what, that this was not something that he could control by simply avoiding killing them himself. Even when he actively tries to save them (“let Tim do it he needs the time” “Joel you can kill me!”) he’ll still lose them in the end. I think this realization is also what made him stop trying to fight it, which resulted in him killing or almost killing his allies from previous seasons immediately afterwards (stabbing scar in the back and that one scene where grian kinda ominously jumps with a sword like he was about to crit and kill bigb after finding out he had 50 seconds left on his timer). It’s sorta like a way of telling the universe “fine. You win”
Similarly Jimmy. Well. I don’t think I need to explain that one. Even when he was given hope that things could be different, that he could break the curse, he died only a few minutes later. I still hold on to the narrative that the watchers only allowed that to happen to give Jimmy false hope that things can be different only to rip the rug out from under him and drive home the point that he is in a losing battle because by the time of secret life Jimmy was one of the only few people who genuinely still believed he had a chance. Obviously this is not something that can fully be a reality until he goes out first next season so if he doesn’t that’s a little awkward but just work with me here
TLDR; here is reason number 672 on why I believe the bad boys are the most doomed motherfuckers on this server and their alliance is a modern tragedy
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mossflower · 6 months
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loki season two has me screaming crying throwing up trying not to get dragged back into the mcu trenches
#i am stronger than this. i am better than this!!#by the trenches i mean consuming fanfiction at an unhealthy rate. fourteen year old me was insane i think i was on ao3 more than i slept#that’s not exaggeration. i was getting four hours of sleep on school nights and frequently went to bed at 5am on weekends#it is ONE good story. one. literally not worth it. i don’t even care about ninety percent of the mcu characters#i will ignore the little voice in my head reminding of the sheer amount of fanfiction. this was my pre-tumblr days#so my fandom interaction was like. youtube and ao3. maybe instagram posts sometimes. it was so much fun like. zero drama zero discourse#i was honestly living my best life. got less interested when i joined tumblr and went full doctor who mode#and after endgame i watched i think wandavision and loki and that was it. just didnt care anymore lol#i know exactly why this is happening tho. currently the thing i am insane about is my own damn project. which i am in the process of writin#for obvious reasons no fandom there. bc it lives in my mind twenty four fucking seven#i do wonder if i’m kind of growing away from fandom anyway? the closest i’ve got since toh ended was homestuck tbh#i want to feel obsessed with something again!! everything i’m into now - tma tlt and the like - i love them#but it doesnt hit like it used to. i don’t know it’s hard to explain#like video essays that i would have loved a few years ago!! the hour long ones about representation and queer media#they just irritate me now! i got halfway through one last week and had to bail i just could not care less#how did 2020 social media have me convinced that x character being gay was super important politically economically socially etc#ofc the answer is that i was a baby lesbian getting even less social interaction than normal#like representation is important obviously but also. sometimes it was not that deep#i don’t know if i’m making sense tbh but you get my drift#morganposting
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How to explain that going to church makes me hurt and angry, but not going to church makes me sad and depressed.
#I need to go to Mass. I need to get over the anxiety mental block and just go.#blue chatter#it’s just. I’ve only gone a couple times this semester and every time has left me feeling more empty and hurt than when I walked in#and I know Mass is more than just how you feel. and that it matters that I am there where God calls me to be#I know.#I wish nobody there knew me so they wouldn’t be so worried and ask questions about where I’ve been#it’s like. I cannot possibly explain to my church friends why I haven’t been showing up.#it’s not even scrupulosity anymore it’s just. I can’t be here. I don’t belong here.#and the new priest is trying *so hard*. I’ve been honest with him about how I’m struggling.#but it’s just. there’s something missing. he wants to include the congregation but fundamentally doesn’t understand what that means.#‘everyone is welcome. No I will not make an effort to include marginalized people. they’re welcome bc they can Walk In The Door.’#and I know it’s not that the church has changed#if anything I’d be having the same issues with the old priest. I’m the one who’s changed.#but instead of spending my Sundays with God I’m just. melting into a puddle of Sad. and that’s not good for my faith life.#I need to do *something*. I just. any time I think of trying a new church i feel exhausted.#God please help me.#I don’t know where to go from here. I don’t want to be alone and miserable and losing touch with my faith
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driftingballoons · 8 months
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nothing like being forced to explain why you did something wrong and then being screamed at for misremembering something in attempt to ‘distort the truth’
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pepprs · 1 year
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STILL wide awake! i did not put down my phone! and now im hungry. so i will not be sleeping tonight ♥️
#purrs#also… im gonna admit it. ive been up for hours cleaning out… my toyhouse accounts. not cleaning them out but cleaning them up. and im so#FUCKING mad at my 18 year old self for giving away characters that meant so much to me to 12 year olds on warriors amino who never finished#their half of the art trade… and now so many of them are like. completely out of my reach and i can never get them back. im trying to ask#for the characters ive been able to find and track them down. which for ppl who actually love and care for them im sure is predatory and#annoying bc it’s like ok you made that choice so live with it. but im so fucking mad at myself and i wish i could undo it. i know it doesn’t#matter bc i don’t do that kind of deviantart stuff anymore but like.. i gave away characters who were so special to me growing up and now so#many of them are like.. on locked / unauthorized toyhouses or deleted or the person already owns them and is never trading them and#imjust so SAD!!!!!! over pixels i know. PULLING AN ALL NIGHTER over pixels. but im so saddddd aughhhhh#delete later#(i also did clean out photos and do practice drivers tests btw. but ive mostly been doing toyhouse stuff)#also im so sad and angry charahub went down and i didn’t even know it and i can’t access my data at allll like so much precious info#on there is gone forever. pain and suffering. also it’s worth naming im not in this to like have the best most expensive whatever designs im#doing this bc i desperately want to salvage every piece of my childhood / adolescence and never let go of anything in my life ever and when#i was 18 i thought i could run away from deeply permanently hurting and betraying a friend by selling all of my characters starting w the#ones they made me and then branching off into baiscally all of them to not make it look like it was just abt them bc i couldn’t bear to be#reminded of what i had done. and now i live with the consequences. in more ways than just the characters obviously. so there’s that#(i had my reasons for doing what i had to do btw. but i will never stop feeling guilty about it or regretting how it must have felt for them#bc we were like best friends and then i turned cold and awful because i didn’t know how to communicate my needs so instead i just shut them#out and didn’t even have the decency to explain why. and it fucking sucked that i did that. lol)#* ​and still sucks. and i think abt it all the time and try not to talk about it for a lot of reasons but here i am so. lol
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crossbackpoke-check · 2 years
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bring a friend home today! adopt, don’t shop 🐶@metroitdetroitanimals 6.28.2022
#vladislav namestnikov#dallas stars#be the red wings content you want to see in the world i guess#absolutely devastated by these thanks. it’s been like a week and i’m finally able to post this because i had such an unreasonable reaction 😭#we don’t need to talk about the fact that i liked this it’s fine just ignore it & instead we can not talk abt how i went 🥹🥹 vladdy came home#realized. that i typed be the ‘red wings’ content you want to see right when i needed to type the tags & move them so they show up &. he’s.#i was trying to be clever with the caption but my entire brain just kept wailing ‘BRING HIM HOMEEEEEEE’ but actually now that i look w/ the#draft coming up… adopt don’t shop bring vladdy home we can buy a new little defenseman at the store we already have centers at the shelter#all of the terrible articles i have been reading that are like ‘why the red wings should acquire claude giroux’ and i’m like actually yeah#we can adopt that one guys!! adopt don’t shop!!! also should mention i was reading an article about what free agents yzerman should sign &#it wasn’t even about vladdy for the main one but it was some dude & at the bottom of each profile they had like ‘other options’ and for one#of them one of the other options was just ‘vladislav namestnikov’ & i did screenshot it & highlight it & cry bc i love him & i still forget#that vladdy isn’t a red wing anymore. like my brain simply REFUSES to acknowledge it every time it hits me all over again he’s in dallas now#dallas stop taking the men i love & ruining my narratives i want you to put them back#detroit ride or die forever & always#vladdy with DOGSSSS have y’all SEEN his little frenchie he and fabs are frenchie besties please you need to bring them back together#just like how aspen & millie are girlfriends & if you won’t bring moe back for the team’s sake do it for the dogs like what about ellie????#vladdy coming back to support the charity he picked back when he was still a wing makes me (oozing pile of tears in the middle of the marsh)#vibes of pk STILL being one of the biggest supporters of the montreal children’s hospital except it’s not little kids it’s an animal shelter#to explain to you the extent that i have not stopped thinking about this post the other day when i was at work i was thinking about how mtl#did like a ‘tourists in mtl’ thing & was like okay but i want them to take the mojoe show around to show people detroit but then i went wait#do you remember connor’s farm workout like what hockeys do i want to see on a farm & i immediately went ‘VLADDY’ like can’t you just see it#he would just be absolutely delighted to be on a farm & he’d be so excited to see all the animals & i want them all to take a trip to belle#isle & go to the aquarium & the conservancy & i just think that vladdy would love hanging out w/goats & then i had to go ‘hE’S nOt On ThE-’#what i’m saying is: detroit bring vladdy home so that i can see him hang out with cool animals. i want to take vladdy to the zoo#he seems really nice & he would sit at one enclosure with me for four hours & we would just watch them chill out & he should come home pls
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crpingdeath · 2 years
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i saw a psychic today and she told me something true right out of the gate so i’m inclined to believe the rest of what she told me too. which was. something else.
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a-nice-egg-offering · 4 months
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Being childish about media that has controversial themes or pick and choosing which controversial themes to acknowledge just tells me you’re unintelligent and have bad taste ngl
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satoruhour · 7 months
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I’m a satoru girl through and through but….I saw this headcanon post on tiktok saying that geto would grip the head board with one hand…and I’ve never been the same.
a/n: this got a little kick to it ngl! a little half assed bc i havent been writing properly these few days and rather just rambling. tagging my geto fuckers @na-t0 @crysugu @slttygeto
warnings: fem!reader, reader has a hand kink, fingering, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, sex in geto’s parents’ house, finger sucking, n*sfw under the cut
anyone who’s met geto suguru knows he has pretty hands and arms. when he explains the differences between his curses, you’re only looking at his hands, at how he summons them and absorbs them back into his being. when geto drives, the way his muscles tense and release against the black shirt make you clench your thighs together.
the winning thing to finally get you to release a breath is the hand on your thigh, squeezing and feeling around. it’s routine. he’s always done it, but you aren’t sure why the feeling is so vivid now.
“what is it, darling? you keep sighing.” your boyfriend’s eyes are still on the road, unaware of your predicament before he finally has the chance to turn to you: all hot and bothered and heaving. “are you okay? we can turn back around if you’re feeling nervous.”
you were meeting his parents, of course you were nervous! but all you do is reassure him with a hand to his and a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.
but dinner is as difficult as it is — “suguru, may i have a tissue?” his mother calls out, not wanting to bother you even though you were closer to the tissue box. geto reaches over your plate with an apology, muscled arm right up to your face that you suck in a breath. your lover takes four prawns, but you already know he’s on his way to peel two for you.
he digs at the prawn’s skin and pulls, rips out the legs and takes off the head, not even hearing his father’s question about what you’re majoring in because you were too hyper-fixated on suguru’s fingers. you pray that he never finds out about this, but he manages to tease it out of you later in his bedroom which his parents have kept clean. the bed fits you perfectly fine, geto’s fingers try their best.
“this why you were so distracted this evening?” geto laughs into your skin, enjoying the shyness you’re exhibiting. even now, you’re trying to hide the way your eyes flicker to his hands that pump in and out of you, mewling into your shirt.
“y—yeah . .” you mumble, grasping at his biceps to be close to geto.
he coos, “oh, baby . . could’ve just said so.” he indulges you, leaning forward to kiss you as his fingers move at a lazy pace, strictly for stretching you out before you’re left empty. you’re no stranger to geto’s cock, and yet the size always takes your breath away.
“now . . gotta be quiet, ya hear me?” geto nudges his tip past your folds and you’re taking quick breaths. you can barely hold his stare, legs coming around to hug his waist. “don’t want my parents hearing how the sweet girl they met just now is actually a filthy little thing.”
you nod.
“tha’s a good girl . .” geto sucks in a breath when he comes right up to the hilt and he thinks he might just cum with how much you’re clenching around him. you’re always so good to him, so pliant and so caring, little broken sputters of his name leaving your lips.
“su— gu— ru—!” he makes a statement with every accurate thrust, threatening you to let out louder sounds than now. he’s so so afraid of his parents walking in, because despite his instructions, he’s not exactly following. his grunts are getting louder and spiralling into moans, not to mention, your pussy is just crying for him.
“you’re so— wet, sweetheart.” suguru drags a hand down to your clit and plays with it, making you arch your back off the sheets and grind your hips back onto his. he tuts. “aht! down, baby. i know you’re eager, but i want you to— f-fuck . . let me do all the work.”
geto smiles a little when you obey, purposefully flexing his arms a little more to wind you up. if the hand on your clit wasn’t enough, the other works its way up your body, spanning the beauty of your stomach and just feeling you. they trail up even more to your face where you lean into his touch and then they’re above you.
you make the mistake of glancing up, seeing how his grips his headboard so damn tightly it’s clear that your cunt is the only cunt to make him feel this way — his biceps tense and move together with the headboard, the uncomfortable squeaking definitely giving you two away. well, the sounds of his balls slamming into your ass was also another indicator, coupled with the squelching of your pussy.
“eyes up here, sweetheart.” you’re caught. again. there’s a smug smirk on his face at your clueless face, having no chance to apologise before he uses the hand on your clit and sticks his fingers in your mouth. you moan around them, grabbing on his wrist immediately to suck on them. geto twitches in you at the sight, rough thrusts stammering just a little and you give him a smile back.
geto chuckles, “what a slut.”
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thank u for requesting! request something here ☆
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simpjaes · 28 days
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HARD CASH, EASY MONEY (p.js)
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Jay is rich-rich and likes to frequent the strip club you dance at. You know regulars tend to have their favorite dancers, but to become his favorite? Oh, well….you knew he’d rent out a private room sooner or later. 
Or the one where you tell jay that if breaks the rules, he’s going to have to fork up a very large sum of money and, well, he seems entirely ready to pay up. 
minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it.
WORDCOUNT― 5.4k
PAIRING― jay x afab reader
CONTENT― pussy drunk and rich as hell jay, stripper reader, jay is taller than reader.
NOTE: if u read this before no u didn’t bc i reworked a lot of it!!! just to cover my bases, hi i am ncteez and if you feel like this fic sounds too close to another one, its because i wrote them both!!! thank you!!! 
nsfw tags under cut:
nsfw tags: lap dancing, shy-ish jay, unprotected sex, cream pie, doggy style on a couch, thick cock jay, reader doesn’t cum lmfaooooo
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Having sex with a client is a big no-no in the industry you’ve grown to love. You are to be desired, eye-fucked, and paid to look sexy. The fact that you don’t have to give them any part of you outside of a show?  What’s not to love about it? 
There are men who try to get touchy, men who are too shy to make eye contact, and men who refuse to break eye contact. All three of these types of clients bring in the big bucks and tend to become regulars to either yourself or one of the other girls who make the men believe they are also an object of desire. 
It’s easy, really. After all, why not use the goods you were born with to make the big bucks?
Then you have those clients. The men with big-shot jobs, walking in and ordering the most expensive drink, quietly observing the women as if they aren’t even interested at all. The ones who have wives, children, and stresses that will weigh on them the moment they walk out of their homes for work. 
To them, you are their secret little stress relief and you often find yourself acting out towards them, letting them break a rule or two, perhaps. Dancing a little longer for them sometimes just to really rake in the dollars. Mostly because they’re the ones who pay your expensive rent. They’re the reason you can live on the high-end of the city and buy new, sexy, lingerie to wear each night you dance and bounce around on the stage. 
Jay was one of those men, so you assumed. A little young looking if you’re being honest, but who are you to pry when he’s throwing hundreds at you and the other dancers? 
 You remember the first time he walked through those doors. You thought he was going to be one of the shy men, avoiding eye contact and shuffling uncomfortably on his seat to hide the boner, presumably ashamed to know he could never have the women up on stage that are intentionally making him hard. 
He isn’t though, and you swear just last weekend he bought out the entire fucking club because he was the only one watching on a late saturday night, silently judging each dancer. You also remember when he made eye contact with you on that night. His eyes were sharp under the dimmed lighting and you swear he could hear the way your heart skipped a beat with the intimidation, mostly because the motherfucker smirked before throwing out five crisp hundred dollar bills.
Even on the first night he ever attended, the girls talked. You remember when your best friend ran back in her six inch pumps, jumping with glee and explaining that the new guy threw two hundred at her only a minute into her dance. 
Naturally, all the girls wanted to put on a show for him after that.
He appeared to be rich. And everyone was shocked, really, because even the richest of clients typically don’t give a bill over fifty to the dancers unless he pays for privacy. This man though? He was tipping with bills that showed his status. 
It was really only natural from that moment forward for each girl plus yourself to try and win him over. You’d stay near his side of the stage, directing the gyrating and pussy shots right at him just to see those bills flutter to the floor of the stage. 
In all honesty though, these types of clients never stay long. Usually they’re in the city on business and visit once, only to never come back. This one though? Oh, he keeps coming back. Every. Single. Saturday. 
Having no ring on his fingers only made it better because many of the married men do not feel the guilt of ogling women while married. Huge turn off. Like, hey, if they don’t touch, it’s not cheating right? Either way, eating fancy and living in your nice flat paid for by the lust of men is a perfect lifestyle for you. Even if you have to pretend to like the pigs pretending to love their wives.
You called dibs on this new man as quickly as you could, to the dismay of the other dancers. Calling dibs was never truly honored though, because who the man chooses is usually who ends up dancing for him and getting the most money. 
This guy never seemed to choose a girl though. He never pays for dances, never speaks, never so much as shivers in his seat at the image of a pussy sticking to panties in front of his face for his money. All he does is watch and throw bills.
You should be pleased. After all, he’s kind of a perfect client.
Weeks and months go by at this point and Jay keeps his regular Saturday night appearances. After what you and all the other dancers believe regarding him buying out the club last weekend, he’s a very welcome face to see. 
Tonight though, several dancers have come back into the lounge crying because this guy didn’t tip them a fucking dime. Given, a bouncer shows up not ten minutes after each crying face with a nice tray of drinks and an envelope with their stage names on it. 
It’s gotten to the point now that with how long he’s been visiting the club, some girls even roll their eyes at him. Wondering how desperate he must be, how privileged he must be to flaunt his money the way he does. 
Still, that doesn’t stop every single one of you from working your bodies for him in hopes of more, more, more money. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Same old, same old at the club half a year later. Saturday night, several regulars, several new faces, and of course, that young rich guy sitting front and center. 
You walked into work just as the sun began to set and there he was. At this point you can tell by the back of his head with that nice hair cut. So many other men show up disheveled, and half of them are already wasted by the time later shows even start. Still, you smile in knowing you’ll make rent again this month. After all, you just spent a bit too much money on some new shoes and outfits. 
Still, but this point regarding this rich ass guy, even you’re getting annoyed. Every saturday he tips you anywhere between five hundred to a thousand dollars. Given, you’re very aware that it’s much more than the other dancers get, and you kind of have been lying about the amount he tips you so they don’t feel bad. It’s the fact that he isn’t giving anyone a chance to really show him a good time. 
Private rooms and VIP services are highly sought after in this club and he can definitely afford it. It just appears that he doesn’t want to get personal with anyone.
Given, there’s no sex involved, of course. It’s just intimate lap dances, music of their choosing, sharing drinks, and occasionally just becoming a therapist for loser old men. Still, you wish he’d give you a chance to really get into your moves. 
And, well, would you look at that.
You’re in the back room settling into your seat to lace up your new shoes when one of the owners walks up to you. 
“You’ve got a dance.” He says to you, smiling. “You’ll never guess who it is.”
You look at yourself in the mirror, popping your lips with the pretty lipgloss before wiping some off that overlined your lips, and then shift your eyes to the owner through the glass. 
“Jake, again?” 
The owner shakes his head with a laugh. Surely Jake would be here soon to try and get you to dance for him again though. 
“Who, then?” You laugh, leaning back down to fix a strap on your shoe. 
“His name is Park Jongseong, goes by the name of Jay.”
“Okay?” You laugh, turning in your chair to face the man. “Is this his first time buying a dance?”
“Oh yeah.” The owner says brightly. “He bought you out for the entire night, head to room 11 when you’re dressed, he’s already made himself at home.” 
Nothing else is said by the owner as he turns and walks out. 
“The whole night?” One of the girls laughs at your situation. “You’d better hope he tips well.”
“Well, buying out the entire night sounds expensive, he must be one of the rich ones.” You laugh with a shrug, a little frustrated that your new shoes won’t be seen by the foot-fetish men. They’re always out and feral on Saturdays. 
“Maybe–” The other dancer laughs, looking at you with kind of a pitiful look. “Hope he’s not ugly.”
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You’ve done so many private dances before, but none that had ever taken the entire shift. To be fair, you didn’t even know they could do that. You assume that the owner took the offer because he decided the money was worth it. Wondering how much was offered to pay for your presence, you feel kind of good. 
This isn’t exactly a cheap club, surely this is a great opportunity. 
Whoever Jay is though, he’d better make this wasted shift worth your time.
“Hi,” You whisper without looking up, sauntering into room 11 with a small voice. They always like when you’d act smaller in terms of personality, submissive even. 
The lights are dimmer than usual when you walk in and you’ve only used this room once or twice during your entire career at this club. It was the most expensive room, one with its own pole, a large velvet couch, and more space to move around compared to the others. 
The man doesn’t respond to you as your eyes adjust to him, but then–Oh.
Oh.
Jackpot.
“Jay?” You look at the man who had spent thousands on you and the other dancers since he’d become a regular. “That’s the name of the man who spoils us?” 
He just nods at you, staring you up and down with the same sharp eyes he had the night you’d first seen him. 
“Not a man of many words?” You question, walking over to him slowly, swinging your hips like the way you always do when you’re on the clock. “So, I take it you won’t tell me why you picked me, huh?” You laugh playfully, looking over to the pole but parking yourself in front of him. 
“Why wouldn’t I have picked you?” He lets out, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re my favorite to watch.”
Hearing his voice felt surreal, somehow setting him apart from any other client you’ve had seated in front of you. His voice is smooth, but you can’t tell if you think that because he’d held your curiosity for the longest time, or because he just said you’re his favorite to watch.
“Oh yeah?” You smile at him with a tilt of your head. “Lucky me.” 
With that, you see how he relaxes against the couch to watch you. Business as usual. You don’t even ask how much he shelled out for this, because you know it had to be a lot. His first offer was probably much more than what the owner would have accepted to begin with. 
You do your job for him though, twirling and sliding yourself against and on the pole. The music is a lovely choice, one that is chill enough to move slowly, but upbeat enough to bounce and wiggle for him. 
The pole is cold as usual, allowing your nipples to perk enough to where, now, because he is closer to you than he had ever been, he can see them. You definitely see him watching too, still with that same bored expression despite the money he lends out just to experience it. You continue your routine, spreading your cheeks, pressing your tits together, making eye contact with him, smirking, and licking your lips. 
Jay mouths the lyrics to the songs sometimes, but his eyes never leave you even when he dips his head for a drink. His eyes are less sharp now compared to before, being replaced with a hazy kind of look as he drags his gaze up and down your mostly-exposed body. 
Noting that you’ve never seen his face shift before out in the main area, you believe that you are experiencing Jay actually reacting to a woman now. No longer looking uninterested but tipping as if he had cum in his pants during each dance. You feel entirely desired by him, and you kind of like it. 
“I think you’re the most handsome client I’ve ever danced for.” You say in a soft voice, slowly backing away from the pole as the song changes. After all, you always sweet talk clients when it’s a one on one like this, though usually you’re lying. You actually mean it this time. “Do you know the rules?” 
Jay nods as his legs spread a bit when you walk towards him. He knows you’re taking your time because he did pay for the entire night. 
“No touching.” You whisper as the bass picks up on the speakers. It’s lap-dance time at the moment, and like always, you recite the most important rule. 
He nods again, eyes glued to you as you turn around in front of him and begin to ghost your ass over his lap. 
Watching you, he is well aware of the rules and perfectly comfortable with them. He would never violate a woman regardless of how sexy he finds her. He can buy her time, but he knows he can’t buy her intimacy on any level higher than he already has. 
You dance against him for what feels like an hour, but only three songs come and go. Jay is stoic beneath you but you can see his facade break every now and then. He will shake his head to himself sometimes, or flutter his eyes closed when your tits are less than an inch from his face. 
Usually, he is great at composing himself in this kind of situation. He knew when he became a regular here that having you would be impossible but that didn’t stop him from showing up. He knows it’s your job, and you act this way with everyone, so he can’t just break composure and show you just how fucking badly he wants you. Truly, he can’t embarrass himself by being so obvious.
“I imagine you’re struggling, Jay–” You break him out of his thoughts by calling him out instantly,  turning and now spreading your legs across his lap to sit on him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, mostly because you know he’s going to tip you big time. “Don’t you want to touch?” 
He stutters out a laugh, and maybe believing he was one of the shy clients isn’t entirely untrue.
“It’s against the rules.” He deadpans, keeping his hands at his sides and glancing away from you, trying not to imagine the fact that he’s got the prettiest stripper in the club grinding against his cock right now. Though you’re not entirely grinding against it, he can feel a soft sort of friction every few seconds as you dance on top of him. 
“Do you want to break the rules?” You tilt your head, knowing that you’re already touching him by wrapping your arms around him and kind of like, being incredibly attracted to him. You’d probably let him break more than a few rules if he wants it, not just for the tips either.
When he looks up to make eye contact with you, you nod at him and he follows, nodding himself.
“If you break a rule and touch me, you will have to pay me a hefty fine not to tell on you.” You laugh cheekily, batting your lashes and bouting your lips at him. 
He could pay your rent for the next several months if he wanted to  just for fucking fun? Like hell you’d report him for touching you when you’re struggling yourself not to touch him more.
“How much?” He instantly says, smirking as if you could name any price. For him though, hearing you suddenly offer some sort of deal in order to let him touch you has his mind doing flips.
Rules, rules, fucking rules.
Fuck the rules, he can afford to break them.
You’re a little taken aback by his playing along. You were mostly joking, but the suggestion is still there if he’s the type to... y’know, wanna fool around with a stripper. 
“Half a mil.” You joke again, pulling back from his lap to slap against his arm, knowing the price is too high but flirting anyway. “Touch me and you lose”
You didn’t expect him to nod back at you. 
“Five hundred thousand.” He confirms, keeping his hands at his sides. “Go on then, try and win your money.”
You’re fucking floored. Half a million is really on the line right now? There’s no fucking way he thinks he can lose. No way would a man really put that much on the line just to see if you can seduce them into breaking a rule that you’d allow him to break for free. 
The game is on now though, it seems,  as you do everything in your power to tease the ever-loving fuck out of the rich man in front of you. You ruffle his hair, you ghost your lips over his and everywhere else, you dance against him, on him, around him. You spread your legs out for him, slapping your own clothed pussy, you tease your nipples at him as if you’d pull your breasts out. 
You can see him start to falter about two hours into the game. You had whispered into his ear and noted how he leaned into it. When you walked around the couch so that you could stand in front of him again, you saw how painfully hard he had become. Lowering yourself to your knees in front of him as if you would be in a position to swallow his cock whole, you look up at him innocently. “Is that for me?”
Jay groans, nodding shortly. He’s definitely breaking, and he’s starting to not care. 
“I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now–” He admits when he drops his hand from his hair and looks at you with a crooked smile. 
You smile at him, that half a mil is yours. 
“Oh yeah?” You run your hands up and down his thighs. “You’ve wanted to fuck me before?” 
Jay nods, watching how dangerously close your hands get to his cock, lending a twitch and hoping you notice it. 
“You’ll lose if you touch me though–” You’re cut off by him, seething out words in a deeper voice.
“You act like I didn’t intend to lose.” He says, leaning forward and pinching your chin between his fingers, lifting your head to look at him. 
When he lifts your chin, he pulls your face a bit closer, shifting your body in a way that allows him to slot a leg between yours from the floor. He stares at you, almost like he knows that even after giving you the prize money, he’d still be the one to win. 
“D-did you?” You say, a bit intimidated by him and his rough hand holding your face, he forces you to look at him. 
“I did.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone. “You’ve never moved your body like this on stage, was I wrong to think you’d let me fuck you?” 
You shake your head, sticking your tongue out a bit to lick the tip of his thumb, unintentionally rubbing your pussy against his shin. 
“But I don’t fuck clients.” You try to argue for the sake of it, despite Jay definitely being a client you want to fuck.
“Oh yeah?” He says, turning your face to the side and skewing his neck to see your ass. “Is that why you’re practically fucking my leg right now?” 
You bashfully shake your head out of his grip, halting your hips and pulling back from how close his face is to yours. “No?” He laughs, leaning back and crossing his arms as he looks down at you. 
“I mean…“ You go back on your own word. “You already touched me and–” You shrug. ”I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t wet right now.”
Jay’s cock instantly twitches against his pants as he smirks at you with a confident nod.
“Stand up then.” He says, nodding his head more as if to motion you to do as he says. His legs spread as you rise to your feet and he instantly adjusts himself when he goes to stand up in front of you too.
Fuck, he’s taller than you and the way he looks down at you feels so much more intimating than before. You are entirely silent when he towers over you and you flinch a bit when his arm wraps around your waist.
You’re a little shocked by how rough he is when he moves you around, twisting you to where you’re facing the couch and being shoved down against it. “This is what you wanted, right?” He seethes out as you hear his belt being unbuckled.
Almost in a whine, you whisper out a ‘yes’. He’s floored by the sound of it, because it almost sounds like a fucking plead. Lucky me, he thinks. 
After all, he’s watched you for months moving your body like you need a cock to fill it. Not just dancing like the other girls, you would fuck the stage for him and his money. And now? Oh, you’re gonna get fucked. 
Jay doesn’t hesitate after hearing you, the money he’s lost in the bet is so far in the back of his mind because to be fair, he would have paid far more just to look at you. The only reason he’s pulling his cock out right now is because you fucking want it. 
The bet was to not touch you. It appears you’d be pleased with both his cock and his money.
Not because it’s your job either, quite frankly, he knows it isn’t your job to fuck clients. He feels special, and he knows he damn well should be special. 
You were seeing stars from the moment he touched your face, but this? God, this is more than you could have imagined. Such a fit, attractive man throwing his money at you and slipping your panties to the side just to see what no one else in this club sees. You wonder if his mouth is watering, if his hands are trembling, if his cock is twitching. 
Jay slips a finger into you with ease and without warning, just to test and see if you really do want him to fuck you into the next dimension, and thankfully, you’re more wet than he could have imagined. 
“Goddamn, baby, you want it?” He asks, confirming for himself that this is all for him. 
You nod your face against the couch, arching in a way that props your ass up a little higher for him. 
“Good good.” He says, fucking his finger into you a bit more before taking another step forward and resting his cock between your cheeks for a moment. 
“Letting your clients fuck you?” His hand wraps around your middle and pulls you up and against, grunting into your ear. “You always do this?”
You couldn’t even answer when you feel him press his cock down and between your legs. So fucking thick. 
“Go on, look.” He demands against your ear, holding you still against him with his arm as he slides between your folds. You look down to see the head of his cock peeking from between your legs and the image alone had you feeling gagged.
When you moan out at the image, you hear him chuckle against your ear and then you feel him pull his hips back, angling himself perfectly so that he can slide his cock into you. 
In one long, languid thrust, you feel the entirety of him. You can hear his sigh against you, and feel his hand tighten around your middle when he bottoms out. 
His cock is so thick, pulsing inside of you and weeping out thick pre-cum, only offering more to the wet you drench him in. 
“Ah, listen to that–” He says, releasing your middle and slamming his hips back and forward just a few times to let the sound of how wet you are echo under the music. “So wet for the money, hm?” He continues, now pressing you into the cushions of the couch, knowing you’ll soon be biting against the fabric. 
You hum against the cushions, rolling your eyes back at the delicious feeling of him paired with his voice. 
“Or is it for me?” He asks now, voice coming out in a low rumble as he slams his hips into you repeatedly with deep pushes and sharp drags. 
You nod again, almost frantically as you lift yourself to grip onto the back of the couch, and when you turn your head to look behind you, Jay is almost glaring at you with that same devilish smirk on his face. 
Almost as if, even if he’s losing all that money, he’s fucking winning right now. 
 You watch his neck tense when he throws his head back with a drawn-out moan shortly after, and he doesn’t stop. He snaps his hips so quickly, and fucks into you so hard that all you can do is let out small whimpers each time the head of his cock hits a soft spot inside of you.
And when he doubles over you, using his other hand to stretch your panties impossibly far to the side, lying his head against your shoulder, you can tell he’s losing his composure too.
He’s so cocky, but goddamn is it nice to feel a man like this lose composure because of your pussy.
 His hips stutter in and out of you and his breathing is heavy, fingers gripping both of your ass cheeks and spreading them every few seconds only to release them and watch them bounce together before slapping hard against the flesh.
“Can’t believe you’re spread out for me right now,” He moans out as he reaches his hand up and swipes his hair out of his face, and then his hips snap back into you sharply. Almost pointed.
“Knew you would be too, I saw the way you looked at me baby– you wanted it too.” He breathes out with each thrust, as if he knew he would have you under him someday, you don’t argue. If you had met Jay on the street and he hit on you, you’d be far too easy for him to capture. 
“Don’t ever let another man do this for you–” He moans out now, amazed by how tight your cunt is around him. 
Truly, and not even trying to be rude, he genuinely didn’t think you’d feel this fucking strangled against his cock. It’s perfect. He wants to lay claim so fucking bad, and so, he fucks harder, quicker. 
“Don’t ever let another man pay for this pussy.” 
You nod with a strangled moan, struggling to keep your grip on the couch with his weight on you when he leans forward, pressing his chest to your back. 
“I’ll stop showing up.” He threatens. “Wouldn’t want that now, would we?” He continues to talk, hunched over you, fucking you just right while gripping both of your tips in that slutty bra you’re wearing. 
And before you can even answer in a whimper, a cry, or a moan, you feel his cock pulse inside of you. Seemingly fucking you until he’s empty only because you feel it happen. He releases himself inside of you, cumming spurts of thick white ropes against your quivering walls. 
Right then, he grabs you by the hair, pulling you back and against him and holding you so tightly in place. All you can do is sit still for him, cockwarming him through his orgasm as you try to speak. 
“You wouldn���t be able to stay away anyway–” You try to be snide through the pleasure of feeling his cum bubble out of you. “Look at how fast you came.”
He snarls first at your comment, only to chuckle as he orgasm comes to an end. Truly the sounds he made to your comment were so fucking erotic, you almost can’t imagine ever letting another man do this anyway. For some reason, having Jay act all possessive over you is much less offensive anyway, compared to the other men who would probably try this with you. 
You don’t see it as him assuming you’re a woman who would allow just any man to have sex with her for money, anyway. You think he knew he’d be able to pull it off. Though, if that weren’t the case, it wouldn’t be any of his fucking business anyway. 
If anything, you decide that he gets possessive when his cock is fucking, and you feel kinda glad that you were the one he picked. 
Not kinda. Actually, you’re fucking over the moon over it. 
The fact that the man cumming inside of you is the man all of the girls want to dance for makes you feel like you’re the prettiest woman in the world. His money is attractive, but god, the way he fucks is somehow more enticing. You wouldn’t mind doing it again, and again, and again. 
And when he finishes and pulls out of you, all he does is slide your panties back to their rightful place and gives your pussy a little tap, as if to comfort you into keeping his cum inside of you for safe keeping. 
And yeah, he knows you didn't cum but to be fair, as much as he would have loved giving you an orgasm, your pussy felt too good for him to stop. Perhaps you’ll call for him to return the favor? Who knows? (God, he hopes you do.)
By the time he’s sat back on the couch, allowing you to lounge against him as you catch your breath, he’s already pulling out his wallet.
“I don’t carry cash.” He says, pulling out a card. “At least not half a million worth, so, just take this.” 
He hopes you take note of what he’s doing. After all, the club has an ATM, he could always just make a couple of transactions for this. 
You look at him wide-eyed, seeing the black card he holds out to you.  He's actually paying you? You didn’t think he’d really give you half a million, seeing as how much you enjoyed that? Being paid for sex isn’t actually something you do. 
Then again, he’s paying for breaking the rules, not for fucking you. 
“You’re just going to give me your card?” You laugh, raising a brow in confusion. “I could go way over the limit?”
“You wouldn’t.” He shrugs first, and laughs second. “You won’t.”
Taking the card into your hand, it feels much heavier than any credit card you’ve ever held. 
“No, really. You can’t just give me your card.” You laugh, tossing it back at him.
“Says who?” He looks at you seriously this time. “If I don’t see you again, I’ll just report you for fraud.”
He’s being fucking serious? Genuinely? 
“Jay–” You try to scold him, but he doesn't let you.
“Just take the damn card.” He demands, standing to his feet and ruffling his hair with a breath. “Don’t embarrass me more by not taking it.” 
“Embarrass you?” You ask, looking at the card and the way he just leaves it lying against the couch. 
Almost as if, if you don’t take it, someone else will.
“Listen, I don’t normally do this.” He trails off, feeling the post-nut guilt. “The least I can do is hold up my end of the deal.”
“This is your credit card.” You still try to argue with him, turning to watch him walk towards the door. 
“Don’t use it then. Just give it back to me when I see you again.”
You watch him reach for the doorknob. 
“Saturday?” You ask.
“Saturday.”
And then he’s gone, and you’re five hundred thousand dollars richer, somehow.
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star-girl69 · 4 months
Text
In A Good Way
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
—-
sypnosis: basically episode two but if clarisse had a gf (so what should have been canon pretty much)
a/n: sorry dior is so fine i had to get the thoughts out this is kinda shitty also but anyways i hope you all enjoy!!
In A Good Way - Faye Webster
warnings: some violence, swearing, soft and ooc clarisse but only bc i wholeheartedly believe she is soft only for her gf and i love soft clarisse, also protective!clarisse my weakness, i’m insane, cringe, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
You watch Clarisse bump into the poor boy.
You’re sitting with your siblings, Tyla and Jackie, but your eyes were drawn to her even across the courtyard. Your eyes are always drawn to her.
She shoulders him hard, then immediately turns around and pushes him straight to the ground. Tyla gasps next to you as he crashes sharply into the dirt.
“Your girlfriend is a literal menace, Y/N,” Jackie scoffs.
“How do you think I feel having to deal with her?”
You really do feel bad for the boy, Percy, you think. Regardless of whether or not he really killed the Minotaur (Clar spent the entire night talking your ear off about how it simply can’t be true) it’s his first day at camp. He’s helpless, to say the least.
Feeling less than your whole life and then finally coming to a place where everyone else is like you, finally getting answers- it’s a shock.
You always feel bad for every new camper. Especially the young and tiny ones like him. Besides, you like his cute blonde hair.
“Oh, haha,” Jackie rolls her eyes. “You love her.”
You start to get up, faking a dramatic sigh, “I do.”
Tyla giggles as you walk away and come into earshot.
“Hey. Knock it off, Clarisse. It’s like his first day, come on.” Luke seems as unimpressed as he always does, slightly apathetic, as another Hermes cabin member tugs Percy up.
“Wait, so, this is the kid who killed the Minotaur. Is that right?” she takes a step forward, a misleading smile on her face.
“Yeah,” Percy says, awkwardly looking around.
“I’ll bet,” she smiles, her eyes lighting up in prospect of someone new to torture. “Look, you want attention around here, dummy? You better be ready for it when it comes.”
Her eyes meet yours.
“Clarisse!” you say in a sing-song voice, walking up to her and placing your hand on her shoulder. “He’s, like, twelve.”
“Oh, but he’s strong enough to kill a Minotaur?”
Your eyes lock, her hand brushes your hip, and you get those same cliche butterflies in your stomach you always do when you look at her.
You smile.
You see her eyes soften.
She turns back to Percy after a moment, faking forward, and he flinches so hard he almost falls back.
Her and her Ares siblings laugh, you roll your eyes, and push her away. She walks away, her siblings in tow, and you turn back to Luke.
On Luke, Thalia, and Annabeth’s last stretch to camp, they came across you. Your satyr protector had been killed by a monster protecting you, and Luke had held your hand and promised that all of you were going to make it to camp.
You’ll always have that bond with Luke, even though Clar hates his guts and his best swordsman in camp title.
You place your arm on his shoulder, he slings a loose arm around your waist.
Luke is pretty much the only person who can get away with touching you like this, or else they’ll receive a nice message from Clarisse in the form of a dagger barely missing their face.
“Ares kids,” Luke explains to Percy. “They come by it honestly. You got lucky today. If Y/N hadn’t come around, you probably would have gotten knocked over again.”
“Hi,” you say, sticking out your hand. “I’m Y/N.” Percy shakes your hand, smiling awkwardly.
“She’s Clarisse’s girlfriend and the only thing that stands between the camp and total destruction.”
“Oh,” Percy says, not quite able to hide his surprise and slight disgust. “She seems… nice.”
“Well, if you look like me, she’ll love you. But… I don’t think that’ll happen.”
Percy chuckles a bit.
“Why don’t they bother you?” he asks Luke.
“Ah, they know better,” he says, squeezing you closer to him.
“Yeah, Luke’s the best swordsman in camp,” one of Luke’s siblings says. You can see something in Percy’s eyes, a light that reminds you a bit of Clar.
“So, they stay away from you because, glory? So, if I get glory, Clarisse wouldn’t mess with me either?”
“Exactly,” Luke affirms. You look at him out of the corner of your eye. What the Hades is he teaching him?
“And people think I’m a big deal?”
“Well, sorta-”
“And my dad’s got no choice but to claim me.”
Oh. Your heart squeezes for him.
“You… you can’t force the Gods to do anything,” Luke says, trying not to hurt Percy too much.
“Well, yeah, but… it would make it a lot harder for him to pretend I don’t exist, right?”
“Maybe,” Luke concedes.
“Great. Where do we start?”
You laugh. “Ooh, I like the way you think.” You slip away from Luke, smiling at Percy. “Come find me if you wanna try your hand at some Aphrodite skills.”
—-
You find Clarisse sitting outside her cabin at a picnic table, polishing her spear, her favorite activity.
You sit down next to her.
“Hey, baby,” she murmurs, a bit too entranced with the gift from her father.
“I only have a few minutes before I go to archery, but… I think you’ll enjoy this.” She looks over at you for a second, then right back to the spear. “Don’t make me charmspeak you, La Rue.”
“Okay. Okay, sorry, what?” she sets the spear down in her lap, staring up at you with a smile as if she hadn’t been ignoring you a second ago.
“Percy Jackson wants to find glory so you’ll stop bothering him,” she snorts, “and so his father will have to claim him.”
She hums.
“Well, I like him. I think he’s cute.”
She shoots you a bored look.
“Don’t say horrible things like that.”
You play with a curl hanging over her shoulder. “We both know I’ll say whatever I want.”
“Oh, I know.”
—-
“What happened to you?”
You turn to look at Clarisse’s smirking face.
“What?”
She rolls her eyes. “C’mere,”
You lean forward, across the space between the Aphrodite cabin and the Ares cabin tables. Clarisse puts her hand to your face, thumb tracing along your cheekbone. She pulls back, and you stare at her dirt covered thumb.
“You’re covered in dirt, gorgeous.”
You hurriedly raise your hand up to your face, groaning when your palm does in fact come away covered in dirt.
“Percy is definitely not a child of Apollo,” you mutter.
“What d’you mean?” Clarisse asks, handing you a few extra napkins as you begin to wipe off your face, a spot on your shirt you had noticed.
“Luke’s taking him around, trying to figure out what he’s got a talent for. It was funny, actually, he shot the arrow over all of us on the side and we all went crashing into the ground.”
She doesn’t seem to find it as funny as you do.
“It was an accident, Clar!” you say, all sing-song again.
“Oh, I’m sure it was. Exactly why I don’t believe he killed that Minotaur.”
“Adrenaline makes even mortals do crazy things.”
“You don’t kill a Minotaur with adrenaline,” she hisses.
—-
Capture the Flag is held the next day. Clarisse and two of her siblings have been particularly pissed off all morning, and no matter how much you bug her, she only says “you’ll see” in this horribly nerve-wracking tone.
You have the same job you do every game. Sit in front of the flag, and charmspeak anyone who tries to come near it.
You’re decent with a bow, okay with a sword, but this is one area where you really shine, where you can really help.
After the first game, the blue team has learned to wear ear plugs when they come near you. But you’re like a siren, you come around and take out their ear plugs anyways. They’re scared to touch you, because one of the Ares kids will run right off to Clarisse, and she tells you all the time that she’d rather lose dessert privileges for a month then see you with one scratch.
Chiron stands imposingly on the large rock at the start of the small river that divides the two halves of the woods.
“The first team to retrieve the opposing flag and return it across the river shall be the victor.”
You know these rules by heart.
Ever since your first Game, the day you met Clarisse, you’ve loved them. You’re not the most violent person, nothing near Clar and her insatiable thirst for competition, but there’s just something about the game.
She walks forward through the sea of red-marked armor, digging her spear into the ground and glaring at what you can only assume to be Percy Jackson.
“Any magical items you may possess are permitted as well. Every camper who is not injured has to play. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged.”
You suppress a laugh at that rule. That one was only implemented a few games ago, right after the one where you had been taken prisoner and tied with vines to a tree. When Clar had heard, she actually almost murdered a few kids and maimed some more.
Although it made keeping prisoners a little awkward, Chiron had proclaimed it was in everyone’s best interests.
“Let the games begin!” he shouts, the conch blows, and the entire team screams in a terrifying war cry.
The blue team bangs their shields and weapons together, and now you have 20 minutes before game on.
Clarisse is the captain of your team, of course. She marches around barking orders to everyone, as if their positions aren’t already drilled into their heads.
“Hey Clar,” you say. You’re surrounded by a few Ares kids, a few other good fighters, ready to protect the flag and by extension you- with their lives.
Capture the flag games are taken seriously.
She looks at the red flag in your hands, smiling in that smug way she always does. She doesn’t smile this way when it’s just you and her, but you can still see the softness in her eyes even now. With Clarisse, her emotions are all about the eyes.
“You all know what you’re doing?” she asks. All the kids behind you nod. “Good,” she smirks, starting to walk away.
“Are you hunting in your usual woods today?” you ask, heading in the same direction as her.
She smiles, a full toothy grin.
“Oh, baby, I have something even better planned.”
Clarisse is not one to change the strategy.
You can’t get it out of your head what she’s been saying about Percy.
“If you kill someone, I’m killing you.”
She just smiles.
—-
One of the kids holds the flag from up on a rock, acting like a lookout. You lean against that rock, your armor digging into your thighs at the awkward angle, waiting for someone to come. Everyone else surrounds you in the flag, in battle stances.
The conch blew about 20 minutes ago, and you should be seeing someone soon.
“I think Luke’s coming,” Corey, the Apollo kid lookout says.
“Of course he is,” you mutter. He’s always in charge of getting the flag, because he’s not afraid to touch you. Clarisse knows he’s just your friend, or else he probably would have been dead by now. They emerge from the woods, not bothering to try for stealth, all in defensive positions.
Everyone lets you take the lead. You understand why Clarisse loves power. It’s addicting, it’s like lightening in your veins.
“Hi, Luke,” you smile.
He can’t hear you, but he returns the smile.
“You’re all going to turn around and walk 300 feet in the other direction.”
Luke sighs as one of the kids actually turns and walks away, heeding your command. Everyone else has their earplugs in tight, but it always gets one or two of them.
You roll your eyes. “You always make this so difficult, Luke.”
You walk towards him, maybe you can surprise him and rip the ear plugs out of your ear, but he suddenly springs his leg out so you trip, slamming into the ground and getting a face full of dirt.
“Bitch,” you mumble, ready to get up. Suddenly, a Hermes girl throws herself on top of you, slapping a hand over your mouth.
As soon as you hit the ground, the fight erupts around you.
“You can’t do this, Luke, it’s against the rules!” you screech, but it’s muffled through the girls thick leather gloves.
Matty, one of Clar’s siblings sighs heavily. “Fuckin’ hate this dude,” he mumbles. “Marjorie, go get Clarisse.”
The girl runs off, and Matty adjusts his helmet.
“Don’t know why you do this to yourself, man.”
Luke kneels down in front of you while you scream obscenities next to his name. He makes a big show of taking out his earplugs before ruffling your hair.
“Thanks, Y/N.”
He whips around and his sword immediately clashes with Matty’s, and they’re locked in a flurry of metal clashing and glinting in the sunlight. Matty is really good, probably bested only by Clarisse, but Luke is still the best swordsman in camp.
He puts up a valiant fight, but Luke disarms him.
Your back is really, really starting to hurt like this.
It’s whirlwind, but there were more blue team then red team, and sometimes sheer number beats out even the best of the Ares cabin.
They grab the flag and run for the beach.
The girl waits for another moment until one of the Ares kids points his sword at her.
“You’re really gonna want to let her go,” Matty says. She stands up and books it, following her team.
“Eat dirt!” you scream as she runs away, but she still has her earplugs in.
Matty helps you up.
“Clarisse’s gonna kill us all.”
“I hate Luke Castellan. I hate him, I hate him, I wish him nothing but pain and suffering.”
Matty claps your shoulder.
“Hey, at least we all get to watch Clarisse beat up the Hermes cabin at sword practice tomorrow.”
And you do like seeing Clar fight, the way she’s so focused and truly in her element, sweat making her skin glisten in the sunlight…
“That will be fun,” you concede. Matty laughs, and you all make your way down to the beach.
—-
The scream scares you.
All the kids around you jump up with their swords, thinking a monster had somehow made its way near camp, but you recognize that voice.
“Clarisse,” you mumble, feeling frozen.
“What?” Matty asks, his eyes scanning the forest. “What’d you say?”
“Clarisse,” you repeat, breaking off into a run towards the sound of it, towards the beach.
“Clar- wait, Y/N!”
But you’re already long gone.
—-
You make it to the beach a minute after the conch sounded, the blue team having won, making it just in time to see the blue trident appear over Percy’s head. You can barely even register the fact that he’s a forbidden child, your eyes immediately finding Clar’s siblings, the ones she was supposed to be hunting with today.
“Hey, hey,” you breathe out, almost slamming into one of them. “W-where’s Clarisse? I heard her scream-”
You love her so much it’s like your heart will break if you even think about her being hurt. It always seems like Clar is the one who loves you more, only because of her proud and overprotective nature, but really you love her just as much.
You just never have the opportunity to threaten to kill someone like she does for you. She does that all on her own.
“Oh, uh, she went that way,” he points in the direction of a barely there path, heading into the woods and back to camp.
“Great, thanks!” you shout, already running after her.
You catch up with her after a minute, your gaze landing on her practically stomping through the woods. She’s angry. She’s angry, why?
“Clar!” you shout, and she whips around, standing still while you sprint over to her. “Clarisse, Clarisse, are you hurt? I-I heard you scream-”
You run your hands up and down her arms, and after a tense second of her staring at the ground, she puts her hands on your hips.
“I’m not hurt, I’m fine.”
She looks like she’s about to cry. But you know she won’t ever let herself cry, won’t ever let herself be perceived as weak.
You wrap your arms and let her put her face in your neck. She’s almost shaking with how angry she is, her fingers digging into your hips, and she stops herself and lets go before she can hurt you.
“Oh, baby,” you murmur. You’re not sure what happened. But she screamed like that, not like she was scared, but like she had just lost something. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” She says into your neck, simple, and you respect it.
“Okay, well, let’s go back to your cabin. You’re not gonna believe the day I had. Will it make you happy to know I give you permission to beat up Luke?”
She looks up at you with skeptical eyes. You both ignore the tears staining her cheeks. “Really?” she asks, slightly hopeful, even through all her anger and sadness.
“Come on,” you smile, letting go of her and sliding you hand into hers. She meets your pace and wraps her arm around your waist. She doesn’t tell you she loves you, but you know.
—-
You flop down onto Clar’s bed. As the head counselor, she gets the best bunk. On the second floor loft, where there’s only enough space for single beds, meaning she doesn’t have to deal with bunk beds, all the way in the corner for a little privacy.
She stands in front of you, slipping off her shoes, and your reach forward to work at the knots of her breastplate.
She stares at you until the armor is lose around her, and she lifts it up over her head and leaves it haphazardly on the ground.
You lay flat, stretching your aching back, and Clar leans over you to help you take off your armor. You probably don’t even need armor, but Clarisse is overprotective by nature, by blood. It makes her feel better, and it really doesn’t bother you much. She lifts it over your head, letting the metal crash into the floor before laying down next to you.
“Sorry,” you mumble. “I’m supposed to be here for you but I’m so tired, and my back hurts so bad…”
She laughs. You smile, and it falls into comfortable silence.
“Can I really beat up Luke?” she says after a second.
You open your eyes and she’s laying on her side, propped up her arm and staring at you.
“Oh, you can.”
“Why?” she asks, still not quite believing you.
“Okay, so, Luke comes over, right. And you know, I try to charmspeak them but only one of them goes. I walk over to Luke and he fucking trips me! It was so embarrassing, baby, I literally ate shit.”
She smiles and puts her arm around your waist, tugging you closer to her.
“Then, some girl tackles me before I can get up, and puts her hand over my mouth so I can’t do anything. Which first of all, is completely against the rules, and second of all, it really hurt my back! Then, then, Luke has the audacity to say ‘Oh, thanks Y/N!’ and ruffles my hair, like? I swear to Gods, I just want him to… well, I don’t know. Suffer.”
“Don’t worry, gorgeous,” she mutters into the top of your head. “I’ll make sure he’s unrecognizable.”
You smile. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Clarisse. Who would defend my honor and fight my battles?”
She seems sort of placid, tired, like she’s just a still lake reacting to your body wading in deeper. It’s almost like she’s gonna fall asleep, and she’s always tired after capture the flag, so it’s not unusual.
“I’d be there,” she mutters, her eyes closed.
You’re both silent for a few more minutes, just the two of you together, her strong arm around you, the way it’s always meant to be.
“He’s a son of Poseidon. Did you see?”
“Yes,” you whisper. “I saw.”
“It’s not fair,” she says, like the child she never got to be. “I spend so much time, so much time trying to make him proud- it took months for him to claim me and he gets claimed on, what, his third day?”
Her head lands on your chest, your hands smoothing down her hair.
She touches the necklace she gave you months ago, bringing it out from under your shirt, the simple chain with the pretty charm that looks like a spear. More so an arrow, but it’s supposed to be her spear.
“He broke it,” she whispers.
“Broke what?”
She sits up a little higher, her hands reaching behind you and undoing the clasp on your necklace. You haven’t even taken it off since she put it on you, so of course she would be the one to take it off.
“He broke my spear.”
“Oh, Clarisse…” she stares at the necklace before folding it up tightly in her palm. She breathes out as she lays back down on your chest, her legs entwining with yours, your hand back in her curls.
“The Hephaestus kids can fix it, but it won’t be electrical anymore.”
You don’t say anything. Most people would say “it’s better than nothing” but you’re demigods with absent divine parents.
Clarisse didn’t tell you it was better than nothing to at least be claimed by Aphrodite when one of your siblings got a magic item from her. She didn’t try and tell you “maybe someday” when you cried in her arms.
Because more often then not, you’ll die before your godly parent even claims you. More kids die on their way to Camp Half-Blood then Chiron would like to admit.
And what would the Gods do? Nothing. They would do nothing about it, because they don’t care.
Clarisse doesn’t cry, but you know she wants to, and you let her know that she can cry if she wants to. She can, if she has to. You’d never turn her away.
If she hasn’t realized already, you’re in this for the long run.
—-
Clarisse fell asleep in your arms, then pulled you back when you tried to go back to your own cabin, and you figured Chiron wouldn’t mind this once.
She finally let you go after you screamed that she couldn’t kiss you before you brushed your teeth, mumbling about how you’re depriving her.
When you meet up with her again, she has her sword in hand and her armor strapped tight to her body.
It was just a great big coincidence that the Hermes, Aphrodite, Ares and Demeter cabins all had sword practice at the same times. Clarisse looked all too happy at being able to get out some anger from yesterday, because sparring is the only way Clar has to work out the intense feelings she inherited from her father.
“So, who should I metaphorically kill?”
“Ooh, big word,” you tease. She grabs your chin, making you look at her, but she’s smiling too much for it to be a threat.
“C’mon, baby, who?”
“Luke. And…” you point, “That’s the girl who tackled me. Oh, and that’s the boy who fought Corey and got the flag. I don’t know his name.”
“‘Cause he’s irrelevant,” she says. You hum. “You just wait right here, gorgeous, enjoy the show.” She winks before sauntering off in the girls direction, smiling in that misleading way, asking her if she wants to spar.
You beckon Jackie and Tyla over to you, who both seem unimpressed.
“Please don’t tell me you put Clarisse up to attacking the Hermes cabin,” Tyla sighs.
“I didn’t put her up to anything. She did it all on her own.”
“Oh, sure she did,” Jackie rolls her eyes.
“Don’t act like you all aren’t gonna enjoy it.”
Tyla meets your eyes, then Jackie’s.
“Sorry, Jacks, it’s, like, really entertaining!”
You all laugh as Clar leads the girl into the circle, laughing even harder when she disarms her after a minute. The boy who took the flag barely lasts 45 seconds.
When Luke walks up to her, she throws her sword down and tackles him. You give her a minute before you pull her off.
—-
clarisse, about to beat up percy
y/n: oh no no no no you don’t
clarisse: ok i won’t kill him rn 😍😍😍😍
—-
y/n: yeah like idk what i would do without you who would protect me and fight my battles
clarisse “i would be there” la rue: bitch our love transcends the laws of physics I WOULD BE THERE
—-
y/n giggling and kicking her feet watching clarisse beat up luke
—-
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coryosbaby · 4 months
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i need sejanus to cum inside me and coryo to eat it out of me bc he wants to taste sejanus so bad but hes too stubborn to ask to suck him off directly
Content warning . 18+, mdni
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When Sejanus pulls out of your raw fucked cunt, cooing to you about how precious you are, Coryo’s mouth waters at the sight of the fresh puddle of cum pooling out of you. He can’t seem to explain it, really, but he begins to drool at the sight of the white, creamy fluid. He doesn’t say anything at first— can’t say anything. It would ruin him and Sejanus’ arrangement for sure. Besides, he doesn’t think the other male swings that way.
Until he sees the look on the boy’s face.
He looks smug, a small smirk playing on his lips as he bares those puppy dog eyes into Coryo’s own icy blue ones.
The blonde’s face turns a dusty pink, and he shyly averts his eyes. He tries not to stare at the other man’s softening cock hanging heavy between his muscle-ey thighs, tries not to think about how badly he wants it in his mouth. He feels his own wave of insecurity slicing through him. It would take away his pride to be owned by another man.
But Sejanus slowly but surely rests his hand on the other boy’s smaller back, and smiles.
“It’s okay, Coryo,” he assures him, and Coriolanus doesn’t know what he means by that until he elaborates. “Cmon, why don’t you use her tongue on her?”
You look up at him with pleading eyes, still a desperate cockslut waiting for any type of touch to your sweet, aching cunt.
And fuck it. Coryo’s not doing anything remotely gay, right? After all, he’s only eating pussy.
His tongue nips at his bottom lip, and he slowly crawls in between your spread thighs. Seeing you up close, he can take note that your pussy is swollen and wet, and not just from Sejanus’ cum.
Oh, god. Sejanus’ cum. It isn’t even close to emptying out, still a thick, steady stream coming out of your used hole. Coryo can’t take it anymore— his tongue licks a long, lucid stripe up your throbbing pussy. He groans, your taste and Sejanus’ driving him crazy. He begin to lap at you eagerly, like a puppy getting rewarded a tasty treat. He can hear Sejanus chuckle behind him, amused. He’s too busy satisfying his hunger to care about Sejanus’ fingers slowly trailing up his back. They curl around his golden blonde hair, push him harder, deeper. His tongue slips into your hole with ease, and he slurps up Sejanus’ spend with a hunger he didn’t know he had. As Sejanus guides him up and down, he notices that he’s speaking to him, now.
“I bet you’d like more of my cum, wouldn’t you?” He teases, nearly against the shell of the boys ear. “Cmon, Coryo. Admit it. Wouldn’t it feel so good, having me in your mouth?”
And Coriolanus can’t control himself— he whimpers. Fucking whimpers, as he takes your clit in between his teeth, the heady scent of you and Sejanus and everything between making his head feel fuzzy. Sejanus presses a kiss to his shoulder blade, then, and it’s strangely soft. Strangely comforting.
“We could do that, if you want,” the brunette continues, humming. “I could get you down on your knees, all cute and pretty. Could get Y/N to suck your cock, too…”
Coryo shoves a finger inside you, groaning, rubbing his dick up against the sheets. He gasps when he feels a hand slither underneath his body and palm his bulge. He pulls away from you, ignoring your whine of disappointment.
“Sejanus..” he warns, his eyes nervous. He looks down, sees the hand resting on his crotch. He shivers.
The other boy just smiles at him, squeezing the bulge in his hand. Coryo lets out a tiny moan, and desperately humps into it. Cum drips down his chin, lips, neck. Your knee bumps his, and he sees your pleading face. Sejanus’ hand moves up, towards his waistband. He slips it in, feels the engorged skin there. Coryo lets out the most guttural noise.
“Keep licking her,” Sejanus grunts, beginning to stroke him. “Keep licking her, or I’ll stop.”
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watching ghost hunting shows as a skeptic is so funny bc like. humans are desperate for their theories to be validated. they’ll make shit up. it’s what they do. also the fact that these “tools” have no scientific backing
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