#���� . rue talks

[rebelpeas]

i miss c!quackity

[ruellakuma]

his rage throughout this chapter was so quiet, it was definitely a slow build up of rage til the end. for him to have this as a last resort for sukuna, in trying to make him feel sympathy even if he knew it wasn't gonna work felt desperate to me. but that's kind of the beauty in it too, like after everything, the chaos and the deaths of all he loved. ofc he was gonna be desperate and at least he tried. i dont think it was useless. he made sure sukuna heard everything and i think this chapter was a nice one.

yuji :( everybody is cheering you on boy, you tried your best and you did such a good job. im so proud of him

[melonsharks]

rewatched a court of fey and flowers and god i LOVE this season. squeezed out a lineup to figure out how to draw the pack of pixies!

[sovksluv]

seven minutes in hell

𖤐 . pairing - fratboy!Luke Castellan x fem!reader

𖤐 . summary - a stupid game of spin the bottle/seven minutes in heaven gone… wrong?

𖤐 . content includes - smut MDNI🔞, bad interpretations of frat parties/boys

𖤐 . word count - 1014

𖤐 . taglist - @perseus-jackass @niktwazny303 @st4rzl7

𖤐 . a/n - i randomly got this idea and was very motivated idk why. anyways, hope you enjoy !!

“you are so. mph~ infuriating,” you struggled out.

he chuckled, speeding up his erratic movements, forcefully slamming your body into the wall with each thrust.

“yeah, keep saying that like my dick- fuuck~ like my fuckin’ dick isn’t in ya’ right now,” Luke teased, slowing his movements to add to the annoyance, protruding a half whimper-groan from you.

he scoffed, a dumb smirk on his face as his hips resumed their work, thrusting his fat cock into you even faster — desperate to finish you both off before the timer finished.

his sudden pounding forced a choked moan from you, panic flooding your eyes. Luke’s smirk widened, he motioned to one of your hands with his head.

you took the sign, gratefully covering your mouth the second his calloused fingertips met your clit, which erupted yet another squeak from you.

he practically had you bent in half against the closet wall, the tight space not leaving much room for the two of you.

you were at some stupid frat party — which you did not want to go to. your friend Silena insisted you needed some time out, and just about dragged you to said party.

with a few drinks in, you were grumbling as she dragged you to a cliché game of seven minutes in heaven, consisting of a circle of other students all drunk or high or both.

despite your tipsy state, you recognized a few people;

Charles Beckendorf — aka Silena’s never-ending crush that is too sweet for his own good.

Clarisse La Rue — aka the girl that typically wouldn’t be caught dead anywhere near a frat house, yet here she was.

Chris Rodriguez — aka the lame douchebag with hopeful heart eyes towards our dear Clarisse, and who also happens to be best friends with the boy that’s pounding your pussy into oblivion.

of course, the second it’s your turn to spin the bottle, it lands on probably the worst person in the group — Luke Castellan.

thank the Gods that the blaring lights of the party hid the blush on your cheeks, with a little help from the annoyed groan that left your mouth.

Silena giggled into her red solo cup, pushing you to stand up next to Luke, who was already standing, a smirk on his stupid face.

and that’s how you got here — folded in half against the closet wall, knees by your face and calves hanging over his shoulders, desperately screaming into your hand as Luke drilled his cock into you.

the fact that you got in this position during a seven minute game should’ve been on your mind, but the feeling of his cock head poking around your cunt had your eyes rolling back, head empty.

you wrapped your other arm around his neck, bringing him closer to you. uncovering your mouth and wrapping your other arm around him, your lips were close — but not touching.

you moaned into his mouth, feeling his warm breath as he pounded you, his own groans only fueling your arousal.

your eye trailed up, left hand coming up to knock away his stupid backwards cap, fingers immediately running through his curls, pulling and scratching at them.

he almost whimpered, lips trailing around your collarbone, moving up with kisses and leaving marks in his path.

“w-why do you we-ar that stupid c-cap?” you stuttered out, moaning breathlessly as his lips ceased their attack.

he chuckled again at you, hips stuttering and eyes fluttering. “will you shut up? m’ trying to fuck you.”

you moaned out, head falling back against the wall, his cock and fingers together draw you closer to the edge.

warmth spills and spreads through your bodies, feeling the effect of both your orgasms hitting at the same time.

you forced Luke’s head to yours, shoving your lips on his as you moaned in each other's mouths, sloppy and wet kisses following his slowing thrusts.

Luke carefully let you down, a hand on your waist to keep you up right. he hastily pulled up his jeans, putting himself away as he helped you redress.

you kept your arms around his neck as he pulled your panties up, fixing your dress and your hair.

face flushed, you watch as he bent down to get his cap, instead placing it backwards on your head, laughing at your annoyance.

moving to take it off, he gently grabbed your wrist.

“keep it.”

you raised your eyebrows but listened, lowering your hand. you went to speak again but were interrupted by a knock at the closet door.

in frantic movements, Luke had you shoved against the wall, breathing heavily as his head was turned towards the door, his tall frame blocking you from being seen if it were to open.

“seven minutes are up!” shouted Chris through the door, rustling could be heard from the other side as he moved away the chair that locked it. “you guys can come out now!”

Luke turned towards you, using his finger tips to tilt your chin up. with his fingers still touching you, he slightly bent down to capture your lips again in a searing kiss.

when he pulled away you were left almost breathless as he took your hand, opening the door and leading the two of you out.

whistling was heard from the game circle as you guys exited the smaller space. instead of going back to your spot next to Silena, Luke pulled your sore body down with him, sitting you right on his lap.

you made eye contact with Silena, who raised her eyebrows with a knowing smirk on her face.

everyone in the group knew what you had done in the closet, the stumbling of your walk, flushed face, and Luke’s stupid cap on your head hinted at it.

also the fact that you were sitting on his lap, head on his shoulder with his arms around your middle and his hickeys littered on your neck.

no one said anything though, they all just smirked into their own cups, continuing to play the game.

you still hated frat parties though. just maybe not this one.

© sovksluv 2024, please do not repost or translate my work!

[rxseinbloom]

I think misspelling the tag for a story about a dyslexic demigod and then that tag trending is something that can be so personal

[finalgirlmoment]

Noteworthy details about the first two PJOTV episodes (spoilers)

First of all, every single of them ATE DOWN. just wanted to throw that out there, i'm so so impressed with the cast, everyone was perfect and gorgeous and i'm completely sat for any and all future installments. A fine piece of media. Let's begin.

Percy's confusion and bewilderment finding out that he's a demigod. "You fell in love with God.... like, Jesus????" LMFAO but seriously his frustration in this moment, thinking there's something actually wrong with his brain, feeling lost and confused and hurt and BROKEN. the struggle in that moment is so relatable to people discovering they have some sort of mental illness or neurodivergence, especially when they weren't believed/listened to etc and i think walker played this part beautifully

GROVER AND PERCY PLAYING MYTHOMAGIC TOGETHER. GROVER AND PERCY PLAYING MYTHOMAGIC TO TRAIN PERCY. I AM LITERALLY SCREAMING OFF ROOFTOPS THE IMPLICATIONS THAT THIS HAS???? ARE YOU ACTUALLY JOKING??????? IMAGINE SEASON 3 PERCY FINDS NICO AND THEY HAVE THIS IN COMMON???????????!?!?!?!?!? FEELING SEVERELY FRANTIC AND MASSIVELY UNWELL ABOUT THIS

luke's empathy towards Percy throughout-- his apologies for what happened to his mother at the bottom of Half Blood Hill, him telling P that he relates to the nightmares, the restlessness, the ADHD..... so fucking sick and fucking twisted, I will be sobbing at the ending, gorgeous job on both ends on making this relationship feel very warm and authentic and the trust starting to build. this will H U R T.

CLARISSE. she's so gorgeous and vindictive. Her beauty took me off guard initially, but she's such a spiteful little badass that I completely fell in love with her. I CANNOT WAIT to see more of her characterization, especially into season two. perfection.

Percy burning the blue jelly beans- the thing he'd miss most- out in the middle of the woods at night in a damn can, just to pray to his MOTHER. *sobbing intensifies* i couldn't ask for a more sweet, heartfelt, honest moment. the perfect addition. 10s across the board

Percy's ANGER. OH BOY this was one of my most favorite parts. I feel like we see Percy as a very happy-go-lucky kid altogether but I loved, LOVED to see his frustration and agitation from the very beginning. Everything is so confusing and foreign and all he knows is that 1. he's been betrayed or left behind by everyone he knows and 2. he's been ignored his whole life by his godly parent. His mission is to MAKE HIS DAD SEE PERCY, at ANY COST. Before he even knows who his dad is. He is entitled to feel ALL of this anger and hurt and resentment!!!!!!!

Annabeth calling Percy "sunshine". TOTAL CULTURAL RESET. I gasped. The dawn of a new age of Percabeth. I will be screaming into my pillow about this for the foreseeable future.

The entire characterization of Percy throughout the capture the flag scene. His contrast of being just a kid- flossing (lol), peeing the woods, petting a gecko, just vibing and hanging out VS. being thrown suddenly into attack from his peers that don't care about the rules, surprising himself and everyone around him with his finesse in battle, quick instincts, swordsmanship..... i'm weak fr. I can't wait to see him grow, train, become stronger and more confident.

Overall, I'm entirely floored and beyond happy. I can't wait to see more. 10/10

[thaliasthunder]

IM SORRY HUH,,,,,,, DIOR ?????????????

[demigods-posts]

imagine during the third book where percy gets his final recommendation letter. he is approached by a god or goddess who asks him to reconcile past relationships. because to move forward, you can't let the things of the past hold you back. so percy gets closure with the side characters from the pjo og series. clarisse, nico, thalia, and rachel. and it just gets progressively more intimate until he has to confront one final person: the ghost of luke castellan.

[arataka-reigen]

Clarisse with a tshirt that says "I survived a codependent homoerotic teenage friendship"

Silena with a matching tshirt that says "I didn't"

[thestarstoasun]

See, most people want a Will Solace appearance in the show for Solangelo content. We are not the same. Don't get me wrong, I love them. However, I want a Will Solace appearance to get a glimpse of his friendships w/ Annabeth & Clarisse & the other campers.

[annadiplosis]

Rue

Their outfits

Their SHAPES

all very important to me

[rebelpeas]

sorry you just “cant see” aromantic headcanons for your blorbo. sorry your eyes never evolved to behold true color. im like a shrimp i can see every shade of the aromantic spectrum but you’ve got stupid human eyes and you can’t keep up with my beautiful shrimp colors. sorry that i know your blorbo better than you

[swirlingyouintomypoems]

”lilly stop saying clarisse is gay she literally gets w Chris” SHUT UP OK JUST SHUT UP‼️‼️‼️‼️

y’all saw what she was wearing too, right??? The costume department isn’t stupid they know straight girls don’t wear CAMO CARGO PANTS AND LOOK GOOD IN THEM

[pynkhues]

I would LOVE to read your analysis of louis as byronic hero as apposed to his reading as gothic heroine. lots of the latter and zero of the former in the fandom.

Sure! Mmm, okay, so –

What are we talking about when we talk about Gothic Heroes?  

When we talk about gothic heroes, we’re really talking about three pretty different character archetypes. All three are vital to the genre, but some are more popular in certain subgenres i.e. your Prometheus Hero may be more common in gothic horror, whereas your Byronic Hero might be more likely to be found in gothic romance. That’s not to say they’re exclusive to those subgenres at all, and there is an argument that these archetypes themselves are gendered (in many ways, I think people confuse Anne being an author of the female gothic with Louis being a gothic heroine, but I’ll get into that later), but this is also not necessarily something that’s exclusive.

Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself, haha, so the three gothic hero archetypes are:

Milton’s Satan who is the classic gothic hero-villain. You can probably guess from the name, but he was originated in John Milton’s 1667 poem, Paradise Lost. He is God’s favourite angel, but God is forced to cast him out of heaven when he rebels against him. As an archetype, he’s a man pretty much defined by his pride, vanity and self-love, usually fucks his way through whatever book or poem he’s in, has a perverted, incestuous family, and a desire to corrupt other people. He’s also defined as being “too weak to choose what is moral and right, and instead chooses what is pleasurable only to him” and his greatest character flaw, in spite of all The Horrors, is that he’s usually easily misguided or led astray. (I would argue that Lestat fits into this archetype pretty neatly, but that’s a whole other post.)

Prometheus who was established as a gothic archetype by Mary Shelley with Frankenstein in 1818. Your Prometheus Hero is basically represented by the quest for knowledge and the overreach of that quest to bring on unintended consequences. He’s tied, of course, to the Prometheus of Greek myth, so you can get elements of that in this character design too in that he can be devious or a trickster, but the most important part of him is that he is split between his extreme intelligence and his sense of rebellion, and that his sense of rebellion and boundary pushing overtakes his intelligence and basically leads to All The Gothic Horrors.

And the Byronic Hero, who as the name implies, was both created by and inspired by the romantic poet, Lord Byron in his semi-autobiographical poem, Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage which was published between 1812-1818. The archetype is kind of an idealized version of himself, and as historian and critic Lord Macaulay wrote, the character is “a man proud, moody, cynical, with defiance on his brow and misery in his heart, a scorner of his kind, implacable in revenge, yet capable of deep and strong affection.” Adding to that, he’s often called ‘the gloomy egoist’ as a protagonist type, hates society, is often self-destructive and lives either exiled or in a self-exile, and is a stalwart of gothic literature, but especially gothic romance. Interestingly too, in his most iconic depictions he’s often a) darkly featured and/or not white (Heathcliff being the most obvious example of this given Emily Bronte clearly writes him as either Black or South Asian), and b) is often used to explore queer identity, with Byron himself having been bisexual.

Okay, but what about the Gothic Heroine?

Gothic heroines are less delineated and have had more of an evolution over time, which makes sense, given women have consistently been the main audience of gothic literature and have frequently been the most influential writers of the genre too. The gothic genre sort of ‘officially’ started with Horace Walpole’s 1764 novel, The Castle of Otranto and Isabella is largely regarded as the first gothic heroine and the foundation of the archetype, and the book opens even with one of the key defining traits – an innocent, chaste woman without the protection of a family being pursued and persecuted by a man on the rampage.

The gothic heroine was, for years, defined by her lack of agency. She was innocent, chaste, beautiful, curious, plagued by tragedy and often, ultimately, tragic. Isabella survives in The Castle of Otranto, but she’s one of the lucky ones – Cathy dies in Wuthering Heights, Sybil dies in The Picture of Dorian Gray, Justine and Elizabeth both die in Frankenstein, Mina survives in Dracula, but Lucy doesn’t. There’s an argument frequently posited that the gothic genre was, and is, about dead women and the men who mourn them, and Interview with the Vampire certainly lends itself to that pretty neatly.

Of course, the genre has evolved, and in particular by the late 1800s, there was a notable shift in how the Gothic Heroine was depicted. The house became a place of imprisonment where they were further constrained and disempowered, she was infantilized and pathologized and diagnosed as hysterical, and as Avril Horner puts it in her excellent paper, Women, Power and Conflict: the Gothic heroine and ‘Chocolate-box Gothic’, gothic literature of this era “explores “the constraints enforced [by] a patriarchal society that is becoming increasingly nervous about the demands of the ‘New Woman’.”

This was an era where marriage was increasingly understood in feminist circles to be a civil death where women were further subjugated and became the property of their husbands. This was explored through gothic literature as the domestic space evolved into a symbol of patriarchal control in the Female Gothic.

Female Gothic vs Male Gothic

Because here’s the thing – the female gothic and the male gothic are generally understood to be two different subgenres of gothic literature.

While there are plenty of arguments as to what this entails, the basics is that the male gothic is written by men, and usually features graphic horror, rape and the masculine domination of women and often utilises the invasion of women’s spaces as a symbol of further penetrating their bodies, while the female gothic is written by women, and usually features graphic terror, as opposed to horror, while delving more specifically into gender politics. More than that though, its heroines are usually victimized, virginial and powerless while being pursued by villainous men.

The Female Gothic as a genre is also specifically interested in the passage from girlhood to female maturity, and does view the house as a place of entrapment, but she is usually suddenly “threatened with imprisonment in a castle or a great house under the control of a powerful male figure who gave her no chance to escape.”

That’s not Louis’ arc, that’s Claudia’s arc twice over, first with the house at Rue Royale, then with the Paris Coven, and Lestat and Armand aren’t the only powerful male figures who imprison her.

Claudia as the Gothic Heroine

Claudia in many ways is the absolute embodiment of the classic gothic heroine. Even the moment of their meeting is a product of Louis’ Byronic heroism – his act of implacable revenge against the Alderman Fenwick which prompts the rioting that almost kills her. She’s a victim of Louis’ monstrousness before they’ve even met, and while he saves her, he arguably does something worse in trapping her in the house with both himself and Lestat, holding her in an ever-virginal, ever-chaste eternal girlhood, playing into Lestat’s Milton-Satan by enhancing the perversion of family and ultimately infantilizing her out of his own desire for familial closeness.

Claudia has no family protection before Louis and Lestat – a staple of the gothic heroine – she is completely dependent on them in her actual girlhood, and again in adulthood, never developing the strength to be able to turn a companion, to say nothing about the sly lines here and there that further diminish and pathologise her (Lestat calling her histrionic, Louis making her out to be a burden, etc.). This is all further compounded again with the Coven, and when the tragedy of her life ultimately leads to the tragedy of her death.  

Louis as the Byronic Hero

Not to start with a quote, but here’s one from The Literary Icon of the Byronic Hero and its Reincarnation in Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights:

“Generally speaking, the Byronic hero exhibits several particular characteristics. He does not possess heroic virtues in the usual, traditional sense. He is a well-educated, intelligent and sophisticated young man, sometimes a nobleman by birth, who at the same time manifests signs of rebellion against all fundamental values and moral codes of the society. Despite his obvious charm and attractiveness, the Byronic hero often shows a great deal of disrespect for any figure of authority. He was considered "the supreme embodiment [...] standing not only against a dehumanized system of labor but also against traditionally repressive religious, social, and familial institutions" (Moglen, 1976: 28).

The Byronic hero is usually a social outcast, a wanderer, or is in exile of some kind, one imposed upon him by some external forces or self-imposed. He also shows an obvious tendency to be arrogant, cunning, cynical, and unrepentant for his faults. He often indulges himself in self destructive activities that bring him to the point of nihilism resulting in his rebellion against life itself. He is hypersensitive, melancholic, introspective, emotionally conflicted, but at the same time mysterious, charismatic, seductive and sexually attractive.”

Louis as he exists in the show to me is pretty much all of those things, and I think to argue that he’s a gothic heroine not only diminishes Claudia’s arc, but robs Louis of his agency within his own story. Louis chooses Lestat, over and over again, he’s not imprisoned by the monster in the domestic sphere, he is one of the monsters who’s controlling the household, including making decisions of when they bring a child into it and when Lestat gets to live in it – he wanted to be turned, he wanted to live with Lestat in Rue Royale, and while there are certainly arguments to be made about their power dynamic within the household in the NOLA era, importantly Louis actually gained social power through his marriage to Lestat, particularly through The Azaelia, he didn’t lose it in the way that’s vital to the story of the gothic heroine.

Daniel Hart even said it in a recent twitter thread about Long Face, but there is an element of Lestat and Louis’ relationship that is transactional, and to me, for that to exist, they both have to have a degree of control over their circumstances and choices in order to negotiate those transactions. Claudia is the one who can’t, she’s the one who’s treated effectively as property, and she’s the one who lacks control over her circumstances.

While you could perhaps argue the constraints of the apartment in Dubai lend more to the gothic heroine archetype, I’d argue it as furthering the Byronic trope again by being representative both of Louis’ self-destruction and self-imposed exile. As Jacob has said a few times, Louis does seem to have known to a degree that Armand was involved in Claudia’s death on some level, and it’s that guilt and misery that has him allowing Armand his degree of control. The fact that Louis was able to leave Armand as easily and as definitively as he was I think demonstrates that distinction too – after all, to compare that ending to Claudia’s multiple attempts to leave the confines of the patriarchal house, both in Rue Royale and Paris, which were punished at every turn – first by her rape, then by Lestat dragging her back off the train, and then by the Coven orchestrating her murder.

Louis gets to leave because Louis can leave, he has both the social and narrative power to, and the fact that he does is, to me, completely at odds with the gothic heroine. Louis can, and does advocate for himself, Louis is proud, moody, cynical. Defiance is a key part of his character, just as his exile from NOLA society due to his race, and his chosen rejection of vampire society in Paris, is. He’s intelligent and sophisticated, travels the world, and has misery in his heart, guilt that eats him up, and self-destructive tendencies. That’s a Byronic Hero, baby!  

[sovksluv]

Here me out, luke being like greedily obsessed with the reader who's like all cute and more soft aesthetic, he just can't help himself but to corrupt her sweetness and fuck her stupid :(

dove

𖤐 . pairing - Luke Castellan x bimbo!fem!reader

𖤐 . summary - Luke finally got to show his pretty dove just how much he loves her

𖤐 . content includes - smut MDNI!

𖤐 . word count - 993

𖤐 . taglist - @perseus-jackass @niktwazny303 @st4rzl7

𖤐 . a/n- first time writing tumblr smut pls be nice 😓 (and be honest !! tell me if it’s bad or not)

from the moment he saw you, Luke knew he had to have you. with your short, pretty little skirts, plump, glossed lips, and pretty bows in your hair. 

you were just so perfect and soso innocent that he absolutely needed to have every part of you. he would watch you from afar, inching to touch you – to feel you.

you’d be laughing, sitting at the wooden table with your siblings, pure and unaware, lashes batting and plush thighs sitting so pretty on the bench. 

you poor, sweet thing. Luke wondered if you even noticed all the prying eyes on you – his prying eyes.

he wished he could be as close to you as they were, smelling your fruity perfume, feeling your perfect body pressed right up to his. 

he wanted to ruin you. he wanted to have your mascara running down your sweaty face, your eyes puffy from crying, the pounding of his fat cock just being too much for you.

a pathetic little cry left your lips, your arm desperately searching behind your back for anything to grab onto. 

Luke chuckled from behind you, grabbing your frenzied arm and reaching for your other one as well. 

he held both your arms behind your back, pulling your body up slightly, using the new advantage to shove his leaky cock deeper into your sopping cunt.

his dream had come true. you were bent over on his bed, eyes and pussy soaked, hands held tightly behind your back as he mercilessly pounded into you like there was no tomorrow. 

your whine drew his attention back to you, a chuckle leaving his raw and bitten lips. “mhm, dove – fuck. y’feel me?” he groans, eyes rolling back from the feeling of your sloppy pussy. 

you yelped after a particularly hard thrust to a certain spot, walls tightening around his stuttering cock. “Lu-uke-” you stuttered, drooling and breathless.

“such a pretty little pussy, dove- mine.” he groaned, your tight cunt making his unrelentless motions falter. “all for me right? s’all f’me?” 

you whimpered and cried, frantically nodding your head at his words. “y-yours, Luke.”

“mhm, mine.” he muttered, grinning and speeding up his movements, pride surging through his body at the visibly loud change in your sounds at his actions.

you felt one of his hands leave your arms, it disappeared from your body before it made harsh contact with the soft plush of your ass. it stung and left your skin red, a loud scream leaving your chapped lips when he did it again.

“a little freak aren’t you, dove? n’ i thought you were all innocent.”

Luke’s hand moved away again, and you were excited, craving to feel the sting of the slap once again.

but his hand didn’t come back down on your skin – instead, it grabbed at your hair, pulling your head up and your back flush against his searing chest.

you cried and moaned at the sudden angle change, suddenly feeling much more full.

your right arm moved up behind Luke, threading through his matted curls, pretty pink manicured nails sharp and scratching and pulling at his hair.

his breath got caught in his throat, his own hand trailing down your plush body, between your thighs, fingers finding your puffy, disregarded clit.

you leaned your head back onto his shoulder, almost silent noises falling from your lips at each deep thrust of his hips. 

Luke turned his head towards you, trailing sloppy kisses down your neck and sucking large, noticeable bruises onto your skin. 

your body was on fire – being stimulated from so many different feelings. his fat cock, the sloppy circles he left on your clit, his wet and cool lips on your warm skin. 

“mhm – my pretty dove,” he whispered in your ear, voice shaking with the ferocity of his own thrusts, sending goosebumps down your body. “y’were made for me.”

he moaned in your ear, practically whimpering. your pussy gripping him like a vice – a feeling he’d dreamt of for months.

“Luke i- c-an’t.” you whimpered, voice high and whiney and fucking pathetic.

“yes you can, dove, f’me, right?” his eyes fluttered closed, hands and hips working simultaneously to please you and your pretty body.

his cock pistoned into you, on the verge of bullying your cervix. “fo-or y-ou, Lukey.”

he relished in the feeling of your tight, warm cunt, hips stuttering. he was close, desperate to feel you finish before him.

“all mine, dove. mine mine mine.” 

you tried to wonder if he was saying it for you or for him, but you were too braindead to come up with a conclusion.

together, the pounding of his hips and the circling of his fingers practically threw you over the edge. 

you screamed, eyes screwing shut and mouth falling open, white hot pleasure flushing throughout your veins. 

“fuck, fuck fuuuuck-” he groaned, hips pistoning as he filled you up, warm heat flooded your pussy, his pace never faultering as he made sure you got every drip of pleasure you deserved.

Luke turned your head towards his, capturing your lips with his own, thrusts and fingers slowing. 

you whimpered into his kiss, mind hazy and pussy fluttering. you felt his lips turn upwards, the kiss deepening. 

his hips finally slowed to a stop as he let your spent body lay back down on his bed. he carefully pulled out of you, falling beside you, searching for his breath. 

you whimpered beside him, heaving and eyes fluttering closed. you were half on your side, back facing him.

Luke’s arm slithered towards you, wrapping around your waist and pulling your used body against his. 

he held you close, face shoved in your neck, mouth close to your ear as he whispered, “pretty, dove. all mine.” he kissed behind your ear, nipping at the skin there. you whimpered.

“you were mine from the start, weren’t you, dove?” his hand slowly trailed around your body, up your thigh and up your chest.

“mine, mine, mine.”

© sovksluv 2024, please do not repost or translate my work!

[nnoodlewhale]

boy dinner