#(I mean he obvs does anyways but still)
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Homelander + Milk Drinking
#Homie's got the strongest bones after all this milk#(I mean he obvs does anyways but still)#the boys#the boys edit#homelander#antony starr#my gifs#homelander edit#madelyn stillwell#firecracker#ryan butcher#cba to tag all the episodes
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that means his ability is inactive too now though right? everyone probably feels it. shit. shit shit shit. okay that thought hurt
#bsd#bsd spoilers#bsd 120.5#haven't read the chapter fully so obv this may have occurred already idk#like everyone feeling him fade yk#or not?#maybe they're like oh i still feel it? does this mean he is not dead??#anyways i'll just wait
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also "textless" versions of these, wahooo
#corned beef#joe iconis christmas extravaganza#bsol#speaking of >:3 & >:3 third time's the >:3 in successfully slammed both up against the window of joe iconis's car (twitter @'d & Seen)#which is really just a :3 but whom among us (orchestra hit) is not a little impish with it#first year i did fanart like wouldn't it be fun if joe saw & liked this. second yr like Same plus it did happen last time#then also recency Fun Times bias sure but he did make it a frame in his End Of Year Good Times Celebration video like >:'3#yes i draw exactly what i wanna draw b/c it's some specific thing i enjoy that much so Yep that is the xmas show to me#so powerfully i was moved like ooh fun xmas villain wrole?? in '19 when i was paying attention & relieved of some bmc closure malaise#by the xmas show but obv Least aware / knowledgable lol. technically showed up in '18 around nov/dec but no chance Right then of tuning in#i mean i had the capacity but did not know it existed / even Less helpful preexisting context. anyway so by the time the show returns#& i've done research in between & gone my god i am i live laugh loving like Yeah i'll do more fanart & omg cyril & omg krampusfucking#able to ramp it up this year & like just thanks to Drawing Experience i'm better at forging ahead through thee process even when it's#extra ambitious like my god am i in over my head? well keep swimming for the surface like only several times going [aaa....] only to yknow#not be that tripped up anyway but still go [(celebrate) christmas!!! (with me)] & be like Do It For The Krampusfucking Gift#one post for another like lighting up my life joe just coming out like ''who wants clips. first up Full Cyril Fucks The Krampus number''#like jeez made that happen And passed it along....it's always the like epitome of my art like i make the specific often really niche stuff#i really respond to; does anyone else enjoy this? if yes; Wheeee; sometimes this is also ppl Behind the really niche shit i enjoy#like i truly hope you do get that kick out of it as i slam it up to the window; worth a Highlight Of Your Year or not#the power of [i do like to Draw the things i latch on to] + [internet] for you#really the bsol design even More an event in ''how did i even do this'' b/c even when planning to make it slightly easier like well#fewer figures; i'll use ink pen so i hone the lineart less than i would to precisely get [line weight mostly irrelevant] Line Geometry#yet still going ruh oh i'm honing for sure. but then like did Most of the lineart all in one night + all the coloring the next round#when i draw quite slowly / the Honing is virtually always an inextricable part of my process like i do Nothing in less than Hours#like i think even my freewheeling bsol sketches posted just this morning took me at Least an hour; judging by vids i played in the bg lol#not quite calibrated to have Attuned Confidence In My Ability To Forge Ahead thusly like oh no if i don't have Momentum or it doesn't#happen to be one of those times things just spontaneously come out great right off without more honing / consideration we're fucked....#not actually the case but yknow still realizing this lol But still able to just pat myself on the shoulder like It's Manageable & it is/was
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hold on im still too mad at this one fucking guest to take a nap i need to be a hater for a minute
#so when i say hell on earth kinda day i mean HELL ON EARTH kinda day#we had a large bus travel group from slovakia and then some other guests and it was almost a hundred people for breakfast#the bus group all came at the same time they descended onto the buffet like fucking seagulls i swearrrrr#and i divided tasks like i had two helpers with me in the kitchen so one guys job was just to gather dirty dishes + washing + taking clean#ones back out#and the other guy running around the buffet checking whats needed + restockjng the cold food + telling me all the hot stuff that needs#refilling. so i was in the kitchen making all the hot foods on constant rotation + chopping fruits and making smoothies and shit#and like we managed. WE MANAGED. the buffet was never even half empty at any point like yes there was always something that was empty but#dude who cares if the vanilla yoghurt is empty for 5 mins just pick something else.#and everyone was happy with their breakfast and really nice when asking if we have more of this and that etc and then there was one lady#this ONE FUCKINGGGG lady i swear i almost threw hands#she was complaining about everythinggggggggggg#about there not being any more fried eggs (already in the pan. done in 2 mins. but when helper nr2 told her that she said well why did we#run put in the first place) about the bread station being full of crumbs like girl its BREAD. my giy was running up and down the buffet#wiping it off and cleaning as fast as he could but if you allow people to cut their own bread there will be fucking crumbs. the fuck.#then she also didnt like how the butter looked bc OBV people kept using the butter and no matter how many times you go in and make it look#neat again as soon as the next person takes some it will not look picture perfect anymore#like while i was running back and forth restocking stuff with my arms full she TOOK MY ARM and pointed at things and was like#'this looks shit' so does your fucking face but you dont see me getting physical about it#and then when i came out with a big tray of fresh glasses and cups she pointed to where someone had spilled some water at the dispenser and#went 'there is water on the buffet' (far away from any food + literally its just water) and i said 'yes i know' and she goes 'well it doesnt#look very appealing. this is the worst buffet ive ever seen' and i go 'well surely you have seen how busy we are' and she FUCKING GOES#'i dont care. i paid money for this.' and i go 'well that makes two of us for not caring. we'll get to it when we have the time.' and she#said something else idk what bc i was finished with my task and had SHIT TO DO BC PPL WERE STILL EATING#so i just turned and ran back to the kitchen to keep working#actually i got back to the kitchen and said to guy nr1 'i need to go punch something' and then went out the back and started kicking the#shit out of a pile of paper boxes and THEN i continued working#and then she started TAKING PICTURES of everything she didnt like of the buffet like full offense i hope she gets hit by a bus#like with some people you can just tell they never worked a day in the service industry and no matter what you do theyll keep complaining#anyways :) tag limit. apparently. so its nap time now. honk shoo snork mimimi and so forth <3
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Catching up to CSM is terrible because all it does is make me wish JJK was more like it
#Like. Obv they're different. But CSM is willing to really fucking Commit To The Bit of social commentary and horror and stuff#JJK has the bones of great world building but that's all they are. Bones. There's no MEAT#CSM has meat- sometimes its maybe rotten and festering but it's MEAT#Anyway. My real gripe w Gege isn't that they mishandle things as much as they seem like they aren't handling things well#(treatment of the girls & women in the story / lackluster criticism of power structures / weird random ableism / UI Ui / etc)#But they don't fuckin commit to the bit. Fujimoto uhhhhh. Well. He fucking writes. Good or bad you have to acknowledge he's saying SOMETHIN#Like I think that's what genuinely gets me. If fujimoto does weird shit you can See It because he makes it obvious.#When Gege does weird shit it's hard to notice bc it's just kinda brushed over in favor of other shit so it ends up feeling#Almost insidious. It's probably not intentional but it's still like ''hm I think people are internalizing aspects of this without#Realizing that it is in fact influencing the way they think''.#Vs with chainsaw man you can say ''what the fuck does this mean???'' and have actual discussion about the themes messages and implications#Of the shit being written. JJK is evil not just because it's kinda mediocre and disappointing but also because it genuinely makes me think#''i should reread fire punch'' which. Pros: I'm older and smarter and can maybe actually analyze the thematic elements logically#Also I get to see togata again. Cons: it's fucking fire punch
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ill have to look at the thing again but it's frustrating that i finished the episode and didn't quite understand what happened.
#arcane#ill watch it again when im ready obvs but rigth now#the alternate timelines and timeloops have me confused#like older viktor jesus where did he come from is he a different iteration of viktor that stayed hexxed but not machined heralded#when did whatever iteration of him decide to give every iteration of little jayce a rune when did he have the time to do that#im sorry im thtoopid i don't get ittt#i only understand why they didn't blow up cause i saw someone else explain it#ok im thinking about it now this is what im understanding:#wasn't that encounter what fascinated Jacy into wanting to create magic doesn't it mean that the whole machining#would precisely be avoided if that never happened so what is the point of creating that first meeting#(but if hes machine herald wouldn't he be unable to feel it? does he Not become machine heral in those? but jayce's machined corpse#is still on the roof so?? How does normal looking arcane mage viktor happen where does he come from how does he know what to do)#viktor in every timeline where he wins and fuckall years later hes liek ''hmmm don't like that''#so he goes back in time wiht his arcane powers and just gives different runes to jayce to see if something works?#he's known him for years so he kows this is a timeloop so eh only changes that every single rune and sees what happens??#until he gets to the acceleration rune that ekko uses to fuck up time and gives jayce enough time to be liek yo baby don't do this ur perfe#and jayce hugs him and victor is able to see what the world n his life is like in all those other timelines and hes like damn that sucks#and something something about them activating the acceleration + ekko¡s inversion of the rune of his device does some sciency thing#and they shoomp hand in unedited hand out of existence sacrificing themselves so that everything doesnt go boom#still though if jayce Had died in the snow wouldn't all this have been avoided#like sorry honey boo but also deos this mean that viktor is like yeah no im saving him anyway#or does it mean that it being a timeloop it just HAS to happen or the universe blows up or soemthing¿¿¿
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o i wanted to make a post that im honestly not smart enough to actually sit down and think out but i like the way meryls trauma doesnt completely woobify her character but does still affect her, it just feels nice to see a female charcater not be completely reduced to a wet soggy mess bc of trauma but also not to (very unrealistically) just Get Over It i think trigun has a nice balance and its refreshing
#also not saying its a secret feminist masterpiece or anything (coz ive seen ppl say that and. come on) but i still think it does well-#enough to be given an appreciative nod#i mean its clear nightow didnt know what to do w milly n meryl after a certain point bc there was just. So much goin on w vash and knives#so he just has the girls do some nomad stuff offscreen until he was ready to bring them back in and yknow what i dont hate that#i think its important to note the women in trigun are fucking amazing tho like. rem meryl luida elendira even lina#and yeah millys underdeveloped but still shes so good#so im not gnna sit here and criticise nightow for being just as misogynistic as some other male mangaka bc i think he does very well#and thats not even to say the bar is on the floor like i truly believe that. i love meryl for a reason#but. ppl can we maybe stop w the 'trigun is so feminist' praise bc lets be real nightow probably just has a thing for strong women#98 anime is a little different tho i was pullin some faces while rewatching some clips.#im obvs talking abt the manga#and stampede is still not done so i wont comment too much on that besides the fact i like where its going (girlwise)#i dont usually like viewing manga thru this lense bc its not the same culture and feminism looks different in japan than it does over here#but i saw a chart. it made me twist up my face and go hrrrrnnnmmmmmnnnnmmnnm..... nnhhnnhhjnnn... mmmmmmmm#jesus i didnt mean to go off in these tags i just wanted to make another 'meryl good' post for the pile#ig im still thinkin abt that chart idk i guess it stuck w me (regretfully)#anyway point is i love meryl for a reason trigun women are great thanks nightow but im not gnna praise him for bein a feminist icon
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call me a vampire the way i. cant look at the lights
#oououou autism is strong todayy#im coming home from work tiredy and they. have the big lamps turned on. how dare they.#/j OBVS. its fine.#it just sucks that i still had to eat which means. no escaping to warm cozy roomm =3=p#and then. my mom starts. sanding her crafts???#sanding and rough brushes like that are a major sensory issue to me. :) PLUS. all the fucking dust that could have gotten in my food??#dont ask why she does it on the dinner table i. dont know (i do its bc there isnt space elsewhere which. fair.)#sillyposting#ouoouou yay bed......#im glad im cozy againn =w=b#ooh i guess it was nice that my dad somehow talked me out of it.#im sure that if he wouldnt have talked to me i wouldve ran around in my head about it.#i just dont like. that things work that way.#why. why do things get better?#hm.#anyway. bed. gn. (not. i fucking wishh. no way im sleeping rn its not even 19.30 yett.)#(dont get me wrong id loove to sleep but also. then i wake up at 12am unable to get back to it. ever. and. =3=p)
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i once saw someone contrast miko.fuu by claiming that f.uuta’s individualistic while mi.koto is not, but i would argue that miko is the one who puts himself first in his mind in most situations…….??? ?
#lem text#🧯 cue-to-cue <3#🎞️#LIKE OK OK I KNOW THE WHOLE THING THAT PUSHED MIKO TO MURDER IN THE FIRST PLACE WAS LETTING HIMSELF BE USED BY OTHER PEOPLE#but LIKE in the grand scheme of things he was always doing all of it for his *own* future benefit. right. Y’KNOW#he ACKNOWLEDGES that his job is harmful to him but goes along w/ whatever’s asked of him with HIS career in mind . yaknow .#even when he worries about being a burden it’s more about his own pride & value of independence right??? yes???#f.uuta is also tricky because like. she’s Unable to fit in easily so she acts the opposite n pretends to be independent and uncaring#but all of her actions were; at their core; driven by her want for community? yes??#LIKE the First thing she does in mlgrm is try to rally everyone together to try and escape and she’s shut down so she becomes distant#liek take the timeline convo with k.azui where he gives f.uuta a bank robbery scenario and asks what she’d do#the exchange is obv meant to communicate ‘ooo f.uuta is reckless and acts without thinking’#BUT she says she’d try to take down the culprit *to protect everyone else* even if she wasn’t entirely sure it was safe#see if miko was in that situation he’d Run FNDKDN he’d be thinking about his own safety!!!!#they both try to connect with others in mlgrm; you CAN see that miko DOES enjoy being around the others but he also expresses-#multiple times that he also views it as ways to make liek. networking connections. and he acts polite and friendly for reputation’s sake#he IS a RIDICULOUS people-pleaser to the point where it RUINS his LIFE but he was doing it for his dream yaknow.#‘all i did was dream’ ‘my life wasn’t supposed to turn out this way’ blabla you understand are u seeing what i mean#i guess an important detail is that he’s prioritizing his *future* self instead of his *present* self but it is still himself#obviously they’re very complex characters and cannot be fit into black-n-white boxes of ‘Does Things For Other People/Does Things For Self’#but i think it’s important to see that miko’s actions are not one-to-one indicative of his mindset. or something. YOU GET IT? QUESTION MARK#anyway good morning EHFKNZ <33 shaking these two around at top speeds.
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read baizhu’s stories. he wins for most balanced character of all time
#and i mean this in terms of lore vs plot relevance and personality traits#i still haven't pulled him but thats fine (coping) sigh he's so idk enriched as a character#like his stories are obv focused on. well himself but they have a lot of nice lore details like his contract w changsheng and some immortali#immortality mentions ig. idk how to describe it also the elaboration on the r/ship between life and death >>>>>>#can't believe he goes to dinner at wfp sometimes lmao?? him and hu.tao be like 'cant stand this bitch 1 min later me and the bestie' /jjjjjj#just kidding i could never water down a nuanced relationship to a joke meme#when they mentioned how he hu tao and zhongli come together and only truly meet heart to heart when conducting last affairs... good stuff#anyways i like him. please come home now i dont want to have to go to 80 pulls for you#back to the lore relevance its nice that his story quest also elaborated on like how god remains affect people and callback to the chi of yo#yore world quest wayyy back#think im pretty satisfied for how his character personality etc turned out after 2 yrs of waiting like some of the hate was so bad lol just#bc of qiqi's stories but like his stories did a nice balance between selfless but sees all transactions as useful ones and does good but wit#with knowledge that it will also benefit his own reputation and image. selfishly selfless search for immortality clever but caring etc etc#he's got a solid head about him and now i want in depth character analysis fics when there are none on ao3 pensive pensive#ramblings!#baizhu
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SPOILERS FOR THE LEAKS in my ask
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Clari did you see the new reveal about Dabi’s quirk. I’m fucking dying. Screaming, crying, throwing up.
He was always perfect :,(
But we already knew that
bnha manga spoilers
i did, kind of! i honestly try not to look too far into them & make assumptions until i can read the whole chapter for myself (because sometimes i find the leaks summaries are misleading or poorly explained) so i’m not 100% sure how i feel about this! i have a lot of questions. for example, based on the summary we got, it says that new abilities are awoken only close to death. so how far, theoretically, would enji had had to push touya to get this to manifest/show up/come out of him? would he had to push him to the brink of death to get it? why didn’t it show up when touya was 13 and nearly burned to death? or did it show up then at age 13, somehow, and dabi’s just been conveniently hiding it until now? additionally, does this actually have any impact on neutralizing his flames and the fact that his body was not built for them? does it help in that aspect? can it help in that aspect? many many maaaany questions.
i said this last night in my little rant/vent post but if dabi ends up living i will be thoroughly and immensely disappointed. as much as i love dabi with every fiber of my being and my whole entire heart, and as much as i wish there was a way for him to continue living, him having a well written and impactful ending to his story matters more to me and it’s what he deserves as a character. he deserves a GOOD ending. dabi surviving this makes absolutely zero sense and would be such a horrid ending for his story as a whole, especially considering the fact that, logically, if he were to live the only place he’d end up is jail for life; he can’t claim insanity, not when they have a video of him fully and lucidly explaining and admitting to his crimes. he knew exactly what he was doing all along, obv. letting him off with a slap on the wrist because he has ~trauma~ (aw, boohoo, so do i and i don’t murder innocents) and is the number one hero’s son is so fucking stupid, not to mention extremely unfair and goes against pretty much all of dabi’s beliefs (false heroes, heroes being treated differently etc).
anyway sorry i went off on a tangent there HAHA i could write u an entire essay on why i think dabi’s end should be his (and enji’s!) death so i tried to keep it brief while still explaining myself properly but!! honestly, i’m extremely critical when it comes to dabi’s character arc/story, and him not getting the well written, heart wrenching ending he deserves has been a heavy fear of mine preeeetty much since i picked up this series.
in sum: not sure how i feel about the sudden ice quirk thing, trying not to overreact or make any serious judgements until this whole bit of the story has played out. trying v hard to have faith and trust in hori and his skills as a storyteller because i know he has the capacity to make this phenomenal and i hope to whatever god is out there that it doesn’t get fucked up by fan service.
#bnha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#tw death#just in case haha#sorry this probably wasn’t the answer u we’re looking for aaaah >.<#i’m just ?????? so so so critical when it comes to anything in his story#i am glad the family appears to be making good on their promise to ‘stop him as a family’#i just hope he doesn’t live LMAO#like i said last night what would *really* be gut wrenching would be if they all got to say goodbye before he passed#or if they all get to tell him what they’ve been meaning to tell him#ie ‘i love you’ ‘we forgive you’ ‘we’re sorry this happened’ etc#THAT would hurt and that would be a pretty decent ending for him#i’m also like still hung up on the frankenstein thing because i so desperately wanted this to end like frankenstein does#with creation + creator dying together#and obv it still might!!!!! i’m trying so hard not to overreact or make quick judgements without all the info!!!#anyway i’m rambling again haha#the thing is;;;; is that i don’t believe dabi’s story is meant to be one of redemption or forgiveness#that’s SHOUTO#i think dabi’s story is meant to be a cautionary tale#but i digress#hope ur having a good thursday my friend!!!#stay safe and drink lots of water <3#staple chan#clari gets mail
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okay ik that they needed to do like character redemption on gus by making him go from "power >>>>>> friendship" to "okay actually friendship is power or something" and ik gus isnt a good person, however did they have to make nv episode 39 so brutal. christ alive that episode fucks me up every time i watch it.
#i rewatch episode 39 a lot and like#its one of my absolute favourite episodes#and it does a very good job of showing that gus has a heart#and how evil zenoheld is#and like idk is rlly good w like. gus' running theme of loyalty by showing how his bakugan are loyal to him too#and that he doesn't only care abt spectra (altho thats rlly obvs if u pay attention like at all throughout nv)#but good lord jesus christ having two of his bakugan die in front of him?? one of which he's had from the beginning of the season????#VULCAN PROTECTING GUS DESPITE HIS ARMOUR BREAKING AND CRACKING?????#hexados taking a hit for vulcan even tho he wasnt even out on the field??? that especially fucks me up tbh#episode 39 also known as gus learning that other ppl are loyal to him as well but only finds out by them dying for him#AND DESPITE EVERYTHING BOTH HE AND VULCAN GOES THROUGH IN EPISODE 39#THEY STILL REFUSE TO BE DEFEATED RIGHT AS THEY STARE DEATH IN THE FACE#i mean they dont die in the end but god bless we all thought they did#anyway im insane about gus grav and vulcan hghgjhdkfienf#time to go watch this fucking episode again
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Weirdly i haven't seen ppl being mean abt Izuku this time around. My timeline everywhere is just
Bkdk from Jp artists. Izuku sensei. Bkdk from american artists. Izuku thirst trap. Kacchan thirst trap. Bnha movie/game. Izuku sensei. Izuku sensei. Izuku sensei. Porn of random character
The little i saw abt that collab are people being sad they can't get the burger combo or smth.
godbless
#didn't get#the girl#genuinely did not see the collab i just saw a post mentioning it#honestly i did find the fast food worker izuku joke funny the like. maybe first two times. and then i started getting incredibly annoyed#like most of us i fear? we're too invested obv (which isn't necessarily a bad thing but there's a reason why we're defending a fictional gu#so strongly lol)#idk it's like the people complaining about izuku losing his quirk and stuff#(disclaimer: IN CANON. i mean i am annoyed at people who genuinely think it's a bad thing that izuku lost one for all and became a hero wit#gadgets and stuff. like tell me you didn't understand a main plot point without telling me lmao.#i obviously don't care about people who just like izuku having one for all or who make fix its because they're sad about it or whatever#im inevitably going to have fics where izuku still has his quirk because <33 he deserves it<33 but yknow.#(i am also still a bit salty that izuku didn't actually lose his arms after all the build-up towards permanent arm injuries and the#symbolism that went with it etc so im glad he lost at least ONE thing lmfao))#enormous tangent sorry#tumblr is telling me to tag this as enormous breasts enormous ass now that ive used this word wonderful#anywayyyys in general im just annoyed at the peaked in high school jokes people blatantly ignoring the Actual Story (he does become a hero?#for a cheap joke bother me and the peaked in high school thing especially bothers me because it's both rooted in the misogynist thing#and also blatantly ignoring that apparently peaking in high school means almost losing most of your friends and family and having the entir#world rely on you (you're 17) to stop like Satan from killing everyone#like girl he saw his best friend's corpse on the floor. almost all his teachers died. his mentor almost died. his friends almost died.#HE LOST HIS FUCKASS ARMS#that is not PEAKING that's traumatizing#izuku at his most powerful was fucking depressed and so self-sacrificial he looked suicidal. he was not peaking#anyways i have a lot of thoughts about one for all and izuku but this is the. tags. send ask if you want more yapping#mad mha ramblings//#ask//#mha manga spoilers
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not enough people write stucky being married/having kids tbh
#and idk why like they could absolutely find their own version of normal#and domestic life does not mean they stop being themselves#like the closest we get is in pre-iw fics obvs pre-catfa fics have domesticity too but there's the secrecy aspect#or just pining and not even actually being together so#OBVS marriage and kids are not impt to everyone so i get why some authors wouldn't go that route#but there are others that i figure absolutely would? and it feels like it just shows#that even in fanfiction where people are trying to give these characters a break from superhero-ing#like fans can't seem to actually imagine a real end to the fighting and idgi tbh#like they'll occasionally give bucky an out bc he explicitly doesn't want to fight in cw and iw#but they don't give the same option to steve despite him considering getting out all the way back in catws#like granted that was more to do with shield and not a desire to stop fighting bad guys#i just think like. why can't there be a compromise#bc the only fics where he does fully retire he's doing stuff that's ENTIRELY different (and usually has disappeared entirely#varies whether he's still in contact with the people who matter)#like why can't he do stuff that's still helping the world without the captain america mantle#the WHOLE fucking point is he wants to do what's right regardless of the super-serum#idk it definitely gets into the idea of ~selfishness~ that people talked about wrt endgame#like yeah lol he did deserve to get the fuck out of being captain america after over a decade of saving the world#does not mean the answer was abandon everyone and everything for someone who does not have his morals lol ANYWAY
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Halloween [L.H.]
Logan Howlett x neighbour!reader
summary: You dress up as Wolverine for Wade’s Halloween party and it unleashes something in Logan. Him wearing a Ghostface mask also unleashes something in you. Or: Logan fucks you wearing a Ghostface mask.
warnings: smut 18+ (oral, unprotected (but inconsequential) p in v, creampie, doggy in front of a mirror, missionary, cum eating and also Logan spitting it into reader’s mouth, brief chasing kink, (Ghostface) mask kink obv, pet names: bub, baby, good girl), worst!Logan I guess but I couldn’t find a pic to use, Wade being Wade
word count: 3.8k
note: I didn’t have that much time to write this but I wanted to post something for Logan before Halloween so <3, inspired by that I want to be fucked for Halloween sound on tt lol you'll see what I mean, and some ideas me and @ethanhoewke talked about 🤭, also I’ve never watched Scream so all I can do is mention the mask lol | gorgeous dividers by @dollywons & @anitalenia <3
You meet your neighbours Logan and Wade in the laundry room of your building on Thursday night. They’re fighting over whether they’re going to do a couple’s costume for Wade’s Halloween party next week.
“We’re not a couple, Wade. We’re not doing a couple’s costume.”
Wade sighs as he stuffs his blood splattered clothes into the washing machine – you’ve learnt not to ask anymore.
“Hey,” Logan says when he sees you, and those three letters are enough to make your cheeks heat up. You wave at them both, busying yourself with your own washing.
Wade puts his hand on his hip, “Can you believe Logie won’t do a couple’s costume with me after I adopted him and put a roof over his head? He’s such an ungrateful brat.”
You giggle, meeting Logan’s gaze as he rolls his eyes at his roommate. He turns away to let you do your laundry in peace but Wade walks over to you, sitting down on the bench behind you.
“What do you want to be for Halloween? Sexy nurse? Sexy doctor? Sexy cop?”
You laugh, “Why do they all have to be sexy?”
“Because it’s you, so it’s impossible for the costume to not be sexy,” Wade raises his eyebrows and you smile at the compliment, sitting down next to him.
You sigh as you think about his question.
“Fucked, Wade. I want to be fucked for Halloween.”
You hear a chuckle from Logan a few feet away. You were hoping he wasn’t listening, but he does you the favour of keeping his head turnt in the other direction as he sorts through laundry. You’re closer with Wade – you didn’t necessarily want Logan knowing how badly you need to get laid.
Wade points to his own chest, “Wait, by moi?”
“I love you but I’d prefer someone who doesn’t look like a burnt chicken nugget.”
“You know what? Even though I look like a burnt chicken nugget, I still love myself. Learned that from the OG.”
You smile, “And anyway, I thought you and Vanessa were back together?”
“That we are,” Wade says, rising to his feet and twirling out of the room like a ballerina, calling out, “I’ll see you later for movie night!”
“He’s fucking crazy,” Logan says, chuckling, and you smile as you finish doing your laundry.
-
You’re late to Wade’s Halloween party the following week. You rush two floors up to their shared apartment, but your knocks go unnoticed through the loud music coming from inside and the door won’t open.
You’re about to get your phone out to call Wade but you realise you can’t. Your fake claws are in the way.
You’re dressed up as Logan. You recently saw some pictures of when he was younger, effortlessly hot in a tanktop and jeans, hair styled charmingly, almost like kitty ears.
Accordingly, you’ve got yourself a fitted tanktop, jeans that make you stop in front of every mirror to admire your backside, and a belt with a big buckle like the ones he used to wear. You’ve paired your outfit with kitty ears the colour of your hair and, of course, fake claws protruding between your fingers.
You hope Logan doesn’t take offence. In your rush to get ready for the party, you didn’t even consider that.
What if he doesn’t like your costume? What if he thinks it’s disrespectful? You know he’s struggled with his mutation, after all, hurt people he loved because of it. Wade told you the costume was a good idea when you showed him your outfit the other day, but Wade isn’t Logan.
Plus, it’s Halloween. Halloween is supposed to be scary, even if most people’s costumes aren’t scary nowadays. What if Logan thinks you’re calling him a scary monster? Oh god. You’re considering going downstairs and changing – into what, you don’t know, but the last thing you want is to offend Logan, and if there’s even just a small chance of it then you don’t want to do it after all. Suddenly, you see Logan.
He’s walking down the hallway where you’ve zoned out, arms folded awkwardly because of your claws. He stops in his tracks, a plastic shopping bag hanging from his hand, and he’s squinting at you; you wouldn’t say he looks mad but you’re not sure.
Logan comes closer, folding his arms. “Are you supposed to be me?”
A smile creeps on his face as you tentatively answer with a “…yeah?”
He looks you up and down and it makes your skin heat up as he takes a step forward, “Not sure if I should be offended, bub.”
Oh no–
He continues with a smirk, “Going around stealin’ a man’s look and doing it better than him? Can’t say that outfit used to look that good on me.” You sigh a breath of relief. He likes it. You smile at his compliment, and then he’s reaching out to give a light tug on the cat ears in your hair.
“I don’t get what these are supposed to be though.”
You push the plastic hair band back in place as you smile up at him, “You know exactly what they are.”
Logan shrugs. “You got something wrong though.”
He stands next to you with the side of his arm pressed against yours, and you gulp at the sudden contact with his warm, beefy arm. Logan makes a fist and unsheathes his claws, holding them next to yours, and they’re at least three times the length of your fake ones, metal sparkling even in the shitty light of the corridor.
“Should be much bigger,” he smirks, pulling them back in and unlocking the door for you. You don’t miss the implication behind his words, and you swallow as you step into the loud party in their apartment that is decorated to the nines for Halloween.
Wade runs over to you to hug you, wearing a sexy maid costume over his Deadpool suit.
“I love it,” you tell him while he simultaneously compliments your outfit. You look around for Logan and only just catch him closing the door to his bedroom, and he disappears behind it. You were too distracted just now to realise that he wasn’t even wearing a costume.
Your shoulders deflate as you realise he’s probably not coming back out. He was half of the reason you even came to the party. You were looking forward to spending some time with him, but now that you think about it, you wouldn’t expect him to be interested in a Halloween party, crafting an elaborate costume and hanging up corny decorations the way Wade did.
You try to shake off your disappointment and enjoy yourself nevertheless.
-
You’re stumbling back to the kitchen after dancing with Wade and Vanessa, getting yourself a drink. You’re softly humming to the music coming from the other room when you feel a presence behind you.
Your heart speeds up for a moment when you see someone in a Ghostface mask standing right beside you. He’s wearing the mask with a black, tight tanktop stretched over his broad chest. You smell Logan’s cologne as the scent swirls in the air around you, but you could have recognised him by the veins on his arms alone.
You try to keep your hopes at bay but you can’t help but wonder if he’s wearing the mask because of you. When you watched Scream with him and Wade the other night, Wade kept teasing you about your crush on the killer.
At the time you felt like disappearing, hoping that Logan was as disinterested as he claimed, that he wasn’t listening to anything you two were saying, but now you’re glad he heard. If he’s wearing the costume for your sake. Which he probably isn’t. You’ve tried to convince yourself that your crush is unrequited, just to protect yourself. It’s a common Halloween costume, nothing to do with you… probably.
“Hi,” Logan says. You can’t see his face but you can hear the smile in his voice.
“Hey…,” you reply, almost shakily, “didn’t think you were coming.”
“I wasn’t going to, couldn’t be bothered to think of a costume. But then I found this so I thought I’ll join you.”
You nod along as he tells you about going out to buy the mask only today, but you’re not paying attention. All you can focus on is how hot it is that you can’t see Logan’s face through the mask, but you still know it’s him. The way his voice is slightly muffled yet strong makes you shudder.
“So, has your wish for Halloween come true yet?”
You give him a confused smile, only just realising that he’s asking you something.
“You told Wade you wanted to get fucked for Halloween.”
Not able to stop a shy grin from spreading over your face, you say, “Oh. No, hasn’t happened yet. Not counting on it.”
“No one you like here?” Logan asks, and you look up at him, at the Ghostface mask, trying to think of a flirty reply when Wade’s voice cuts through the tension in the room.
Wade runs over to Logan, leaning his head to the side flirtily, “I told you it’d look hot, peanut. Are you gonna hunt me later, Mr. Ghostface?” Wade brings a finger to his lip, and, for once, Logan doesn’t get annoyed by his jokes.
“Ghostface only hunts good girls,” Logan says, and your heart starts to beat faster yet again when you realise Logan is looking down at you.
“Am I not a good girl?” Wade asks, and Logan just huffs, ignoring him. You can’t see his eyes, but you can still feel them on you. You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from moaning out loud.
It’s not much later that Logan is chasing you through the hallways of your building, with you giggling and squealing only a few feet ahead of him as the adrenaline pumps through you.
He gave you a headstart but you know he’ll catch you. You want him to catch you. You’re fumbling with the keys to your apartment when he reaches you, your heart hammering in your chest at the thrill of being chased.
Logan’s hands go to your waist as he pushes you against your front door.
“I got you.”
You reach up to gently tug the mask off but he stops you when only his lips are exposed, and he grins. You smile and lean up to kiss him, and you somehow manage to fit your key into the lock while you’re making out and push the door open.
Logan lifts you and throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing as he carries you to your bedroom.
With your claws and the rest of your clothes discarded on the floor minutes later, Logan is fucking you in front of the mirror by your bed. He’s taking you from behind, mask still on as he pulls and pushes at your hips with you fucking back against him as the mattress dips beneath you.
But as hot as it is to see the Ghostface mask looking down at you through the mirror, it’s also your first time having sex with Logan and you want to see him.
“Can I take the mask off?” you ask, looking back at him and Logan lifts you so that your back is flush with his chest. You turn around and pull the mask off over his head with a smile.
His hair is messy and a little bit sweaty, and as good as Logan usually looks you don’t think you’ve ever been quite this attracted to him. He holds your face to press a few sloppy kisses to your lips, and then he turns you back around to face the mirror.
Logan doesn’t push you back on all fours, but takes your arms and clasps them behind your back, holding them together with one big hand. He slides his cock back into your wet pussy and begins to rub your clit with his other hand.
“Look at you,” he nods towards the mirror, and you meet his eyes in it, watching as his gaze trails down your body, to where his hand disappears between your soft thighs, “So fucking pretty.”
You lean your head back against his shoulder as he continues to play with your pussy, but he can’t properly fuck you at this angle, so you buck back against him until he manoeuvres you onto your back.
His lips find yours again and your arm sneaks around the back of his neck, holding him close as you kiss him desperately. You whine when his lips leave yours. He kisses down your neck and over your collarbones, down over your tits and over your belly. He arrives between your legs with a smirk and licks through the wetness of your pussy.
He moans when he first makes contact, “tastes even better than I fucking imagined, baby.”
You smile down at Logan as he pulls your socked feet onto his shoulders, fingers grabbing your ankles. “You’ve imagined this?”
Logan looks up at you, “Every single fucking day. You haven’t?”
You smile bashfully despite his own admission, but he doesn’t let you answer anyway, moving his head back between your legs to make out with your pussy. He pushes two fingers inside you, the tips of his fingers rubbing up against your g-spot.
You begin to squirm as the heat builds up in your lower stomach, but Logan holds your hips down with his muscular forearm over your waist, “Stay still for me, baby, okay?”
Logan starts sucking on your clit, and you cum immediately, back arching as you grab onto his hair. Your pussy pulses and throbs around his fingers as pleasure floods your body. You grind up to meet his mouth and he lets you use him until you’re breathless.
He places a last, rough kiss on your pussy, getting back on his knees to fuck you, but you breathe out, “Give me a second.” You smile shyly, your pussy still squeezing around nothing every few seconds.
“Of course, bub.” He leans down to kiss you and you mumble a question against his lips.
“Can I go down on you?”
Logan smiles and sits up, “Me or…?” he nods over to the mask.
You shrug shyly, “Well, if you’re offering.”
“Why do you think I wore it?” Logan smirks, pulling the mask back on. You briefly pull it up to his forehead again to give him a small kiss of appreciation.
He holds your hand as you get off the bed, sinking down onto the carpeted floor. You smile as his hard cock bobs in front of your face, glistening with precum and your wetness.
You place your hands on his knees and softly trace a path down his cock with your tongue, gently sucking his balls as you look up. A thrill shoots through you when you only see the mask looking back at you, and you move to suck Logan’s dick into your mouth as deep as you can, tasting your own arousal on him.
He throbs hotly against your tongue as you let spit run down his length, slapping his cock against your tongue.
“Such a good girl,” Logan’s voice sounds from above you, and you look up at him, at the Ghostface mask, as you take his cock in your mouth again, your hands back on his knees for support.
You make out with the head of his cock, gently sucking on the skin down the side of him, licking your way up, playing with him.
“I’m close, baby,” he moans.
You mumble against his skin, telling him to take off the mask, and even though it comes out muffled he hears. Logan tugs off the mask in one quick movement, looking down at you with his eyebrows drawn together in pleasure and his lips bitten raw. His face glows with desire and a hint of sweat, and he hums when you suck him into your mouth.
You use your hand to jerk off the rest of him, moving your mouth down on him as far as you can, and your eyes flutter shut when you hear Logan moan, and he’s spilling the first ropes of his load down your throat. You keep sucking until you’ve swallowed all of his cum, and only then do you take your mouth off him.
Sitting back, suddenly shy, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand but Logan’s already tugging you up to the bed to kiss you.
“You got another orgasm in you?” he asks against your lips. You straddle him and feel his hard cock smack against your thigh as you tell him yes. He tips you onto your back, leaning down to press a wet kiss to your pussy.
When he gets between your legs and pushes his cock into you again it somehow feels even better than the first time as you gasp in pleasure.
“You’re so warm, bub. So perfect. Wanna stay here forever,” Logan says mindlessly as he bottoms out, and you whine into his mouth.
“Want you inside me forever too,” you babble, already fucked out. You wrap your legs around his waist as he fucks you. It feels like your wet pussy is sucking him in with the way you clech around him, and you both know you won’t take long for your next orgasms.
He slips a hand between your bodies to rub your clit as he begins to fucks you deeper. “You gonna cum for me again, bub? You make such a cute face when you cum. Let me see it again, baby.”
You’re nodding dumbly and letting the feeling of him take over, not just his big cock in your pussy and his slicked fingers on your clit, but the way his body feels on top of yours, warm skin against warm skin as he sloppily kisses your jaw and neck, and you cream around his cock as you cum, moaning his name.
“That’s it, baby, doin’ so well. Taking my big cock like a good girl, hm?” Logan’s voice is strained, and then he’s cumming too, filling you up with his warm release until your pussy is stuffed full with his cock and his cum. He pulls out slowly and rubs your sensitive clit a little more.
“So pretty,” he mumbles, fucking two fingers into you and when he pulls them out they’re coated in his sticky load.
You reach out to pull him down by his wrist and take his fingers into your mouth, sucking his cum off them as he smirks down at you, rubbing a hand over his face to calm himself for now.
You both come down from your highs with laboured breaths, and he pulls you to lie your head on the pillow. Logan wraps his arms around you, just cuddling you for a bit, when you realise something and smile up at him.
“So, are you that narcissistic that seeing me dressed up as you made you want to fuck me?”
Logan smirks. “Nah, wanted to fuck you way before that. And I’m just honoured you like me enough to dress up as me.”
You open your mouth for a rebuttal but he instead takes that opportunity to push his tongue back into your mouth as he holds the side of your face. You make out lazily for another few moments, slinging your leg over his hip, but then you drag his hand away from your face.
“Well, I’m honoured you like me enough to dress up for me.”
“Baby, there’s a lot more I’d do for you than just dress up in a horror mask.”
“Really?” you smile. Logan nods earnestly. He holds you in his arms for a few minutes as you relax into the comfortable silence.
He pulls your hand up to his lips and kisses your knuckles, “Will you go out with me?”
You giggle then, “Don’t think you have to ask me anymore.”
“What? I wanna be a gentleman.”
“Yeah, very gentlemanly what you just did to me.”
You feel some of Logan’s cum drip out of your pussy and onto his thigh in that moment.
Logan looks at you and gives you a silly smile, lifting your leg off him to sit up, “Yeah, baby, I am a gentleman, and a gentleman cleans up after himself.”
He spreads your thighs as he gets between them, and licks up your pussy, coating his tongue in his own cum. You smile at his words but soon you begin to pout in pleasure as he starts going down on you again.
You sigh when he stops and moves up to your face, but you smile when you realise what he’s doing, happily parting your lips for him. Logan leans over you and spits his cum into your mouth, “We taste good together, hm?” he asks.
You swallow your combined arousals eagerly, closing your eyes as you savour the taste, but a gentle pat on your clit makes you open them again.
“You got another one in you, right, baby? Just one.” You nod quickly, unable to form words with you needily spread open for Logan like this.
Lying back, you let Logan eat your pussy until you’re cumming again, your thighs pressing against his temples as he grabs at the flesh of your legs, licking your clit until you’re satisfied.
Logan lies back down next to you with his lips still shiny with your wetness, and you lean in for another kiss. He takes you in his arms to cuddle, when he asks you again.
“So, will you go on a date with me?”
“Only if it ends with you doing that thing with your mouth again,” you tease.
“Oh, trust me, I’m not going a day without it anymore.”
You giggle into his neck, relaxing against his muscular body.
Logan turns around when he gets a text, showing you his phone. It’s a message from Wade:
Everyone left and I’m about to give Vanessa a happy Halloweener if you know what I’m saying! So don’t come home tonight but I have a feeling you weren’t going to anyway ;)
Logan cringes while you laugh, ready to put his phone back when another message comes through.
And if you don’t treat her right I’ll cut off your Halloweener
Logan groans, switching off his phone. You laugh against his skin and let him hold you until you both sink into a warm, cozy sleep.
P.S. Logan thinks good girls reblog and comment on the fics they enjoy 🤭🙂↕️
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#wolverine x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x you#wolverine smut#fem!reader#deadpool and wolverine#selfcarecap
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SWEET LITTLE MONEY MAKER. ― S.JY
When your best friend quite literally gifts you an entire man, you realize that you’re in no place to pretend that you don’t love it. or the one where you’re very much an “i don’t need a man” type of person, and Jake shows you that you do, in fact, need a man….him, you specifically need him. Only because he needs you.
MDNI! reblogs help writers, so please show your support through a reblog! PAIRING ― stripper!sim jaeyun x rich!afab reader
WORDCOUNT― 13.6k
CONTENT― he’s a switch and desperately wants to be ur sugar baby, you’re a boring rich bitch who has no interest at first, masturbation, reader is kind of power-hungry, jake chokes her NOTE ― if you’ve read this before, specifically for jeno, hi. that was written by me back in 2022 except now it’s way better and not an absolute trash-fire. enjoy! not proof read kind of.
nsfw tags under cut::
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
NSFW TAGS― jake is a stripper so obv dancing and stripping, HE’S VERY SWITCH BUT MOSTLY SUBBY HERE, hand job, masturbation, choking without permission, finger fucking, making out, protected sex omg GASP, slight nipple play, riding, lil bit of stomach bulge, sensitive cock continues to get fucked lmfao
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
It was a gift, or rather, he was the gift.
A downpayment of six hundred dollars told you enough about the man. It’s obvious he offers his services to lonely, sad, rich women who have no one else to spend their money on. A parasite, a leech, is what he is. Yet, still, your best friend has been taunting you with the idea for months in an attempt to have you give the guy a try.
She had apparently heard of the infamous Jake through various means. All rich women, all lonely and unsatisfied women. Which, to you only seems like a fucking insult to be taunted with the very idea of hiring this man. What is she implying? That you’re lonely and unsatisfied? Please.
Some best friend. Then again, she has since experienced Jake herself, and now her taunting feels more like…promises.
“He’s so clean, toned, and oh god��” She had paused with a flush across her cheeks as she thought back to the heated night. “The way he moves, shit, he teases so much. I could have died right then and there if he were to–”
The expression of disinterest on your face did not halt her doting, nor did the blatant grimace you eventually shot at her. Genuinely, you cannot take her seriously. Already you know too much about her, which is nice and all, but you could do without the details of her little stripper friend and how “wet” he left her.
“I even heard that sometimes he even gives special treatments with his services…” She had rolled her eyes after she said that, almost looking offended. “Not that I'd know or anything, he took my cash and left when our session was up.”
You recall knowing exactly what that “treatment” probably entailed, and the reason your best friend didn’t get it was likely due to the fact that she’s, well, not that rich. You’d assume such an expensive man wouldn’t give special treatments to women who wouldn’t end up being repeat customers anyway. Or, maybe, he just wasn’t trying to drain her dry.
And even with all of the information being dangled in front of your face, practically force fed to you, the image should be more delicious than the century-old wine you have every night at dinner– for the entire duration of her doting compliments of Jake, you are simply not fucking interested. There’s other things to do in life, more to worry about than getting your body excited for someone who will never finish the job.
Last week was when your bestie told you all about her single night with him. In fact, her entire visit was just her speaking of him, of how great he is, of how alluring he is. Arguably, you see that she’s a bit obsessed. Does it make you curious? Maybe a little bit, but not enough to actually give him a go yourself. And so, after that visit, you watched her leave with a menacing, evil little glint in her eye. You ignored it, as per usual considering she’s always up to something, unaware that the visit she lends to you today is not a complimentary marketing campaign of a male stripper, no, it’s a fucking ambush.
When she appeared at your doorstep, she said nothing. She didn’t even look you in the eye, actually. Weird. She did, however, have an envelope in her hand and you were almost offended at how she threw it at you and trotted away without a single greeting or goodbye. No afternoon lunch over champagne, no gossip, no advertising. Just an envelope.
Suspicious.
Upon opening said envelope, you find that your bitch of a best friend dropped that six hundred dollar down payment, likely in an attempt to force you out of being the stick in the mud that you always are. There’s a note. Your name in bold letters, a date, a time, and a signature of none other than “Jake Sim” with a fucking website on the back.
Shortly after huffing and rolling your eyes, about two seconds from tossing her six hundred dollars in the trash, you feel your phone ping to show your best friend texting you.
Best Friend: I paid for it, you just have to tip him. a lot. tip him a lot. You: why the fuck would you buy a stripper for me?
Best Friend: you need it, trust me.
So, now here you are waiting for that knock on your door and wondering why you even tried to look nice for some dude that’s about to swing his meat in your face. Appearance, reputation, whatever. Fucking unbelievable, you think, that there’s a stripper out there that only does private parties and your own best friend thinks you need it? You could have any dick you want, why the fuck should you have to pay just to look?
He’s going to be expecting more than just you here, alone in your house. Surely, he won’t be expecting to waltz into someone’s home all oiled up only to find one very disinterested woman.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
To your dismay, Jake has apparently already been warned of you. Your best friend probably told him that you’re a nightmare, too difficult to fluster or gain an interest from. The first words out of his mouth when you opened your door was “She said you’d give me that look.”
Still, even so, your best friend wasn’t lying to him. You played the part of yourself all too well as you watched him saunter into your home as if he owned the place. You’re impressed actually, with the way he doesn’t seem to feel out of place in such a lavish room. He looks…comfortable here as he scopes out his stage for the night, like he belongs.
“Big place, looked smaller on the outside.” He says casually, filling the silence in the room since you make no attempt yourself to greet him.
You watch as he tosses his bag beside your living room couch and eyes the spacious area just in front of the large fireplace. His eyes flick to the windows, to the walls, counting the outlets and looking for shelves with space.
“The smaller the better, sometimes it feels too big in here for just me.” You finally speak, admitting a small weakness of yours almost immediately. You are lonely, despite never wanting to admit it. And you watch as he shrugs, now crouching to grab wires from his bag.
“Oh yeah?” He glances at you. “Must get lonely. What a good friend to purchase me to help you with that.”
You bite the inside of your cheek at that, noting his calm and cool tone as he talks his business. The little smirk at the corner of his lips is charming, but it’s all for show. He’s just a pretty man, that’s all he’s got going for him and you guess you can respect the hustle.
“This was not my doing.” You cross your arms, pretending to be unimpressed.
“Yeah, yeah–” He waves you off as he begins to set up, making space for small lights to set the mood, looking to see if you have a sound system he can use. “I already know that you’re new to this.” He’s still calm, still collected.
“Lucky for you, first-timers are my favorite to entertain.” He smirks again, now looking directly at you as he, now, fluffs some of your couch pillows.
Your curiosity spikes again only for a moment. You really did think that the initial meeting would be different, less casual. You half expected him to waltz in cock swinging. Wasn’t he, like, supposed to pretend to be a cop or something? You know, show up and press play on a magical stereo that didn’t exist beforehand and start vibrating on you?
Instead, he’s just setting up…fully clothed in a ratty sweater with jeans that hug his thighs. He doesn’t appear at all to be a man that gets paid to take his clothes off. It makes you wonder. Makes you want to ask questions. Then again, you still have no interest in learning about him considering you already know exactly what he will be doing soon enough.
“You’re good with the mood lighting, yeah? Or do you prefer the morgue lighting?” His eyes shoot up to the bright white lights on your ceiling as he goes for his laptop now, presumably to connect it to your very obvious sound system.
You only take slight offense to his comment on your living room lighting, considering you have a control panel that can make them way less blinding, but– he’s right. And now you’re a little insecure that you prefer such a drab color in your home. You make your way to the wall, clicking the buttons on the panel just to prove you have warm lighting too, and that you can adjust the brightness.
“Ah, perfect.” Jake hums from across the room, eyes focused on his laptop screen before glancing to you and your extravagant light switch. “A little lower.” He guides you, knowing exactly which lighting accentuates his toned body the best when paired with his own little LED colored lights.
You turn the knob slightly, wondering just how good he must be at dancing in houses like this one.
“Little more.” He smiles
You dim the lighting more, looking at him and his relaxed posture.
“Right there.” He finishes in a more gentle tone, eyes focusing back on his laptop as he prepares not only the playlist but the mood lighting from his end too. Red. Lots of red.
And you just watch, his voice ringing in your ears as you try to pretend that your best friend wasn’t right. Even with just this casual set up…he’s…goddamn, he’s alluring. In that ratty old sweater, with his messy hair and pretty smile.
Stunning.
This motherfucker is stunning.
“Go and sit–” Jake says now, nodding to your couch as he places his laptop down, presumably done with the set up. “Just tell me where I can get myself ready and I’ll be back out shortly.”
You point towards the guest bathroom as you take your seat on the couch, unsure as to why your hands feel so clammy. And by the time he rounds the corner and you can hear the bathroom door shut, you attempt to make yourself comfortable.
And goddammit, no matter how many times you’ve napped here on this plush and soft surface, you can’t find the comfort here right now. The curiosity of why you’re okay with this burns in your gut despite knowing exactly why. Despite the fact that your best friend can always see straight through you and know exactly what you are.
At the end of the day though, why the curiosity exists isn’t what matters. It’s the curiosity itself. You want to know how much money Jake makes doing this, if he likes doing it, how he got started, what he does to advertise himself in a way to only find women like you, and many other things. Countless things. He’s hot as hell, actually, and how he’s come to do this kind of work is either one of two things. One being that he’s using what the Gods gave him to the fullest. Two, being that he had no other choice.
If he’s going to be paid to give you attention, the least you can hope is that he does it because he enjoys it, not because he has to do it. And if it does end up being because he has to do it, then perhaps his tip would be even larger than what you’d give for the ladder.
You’re uncomfortable.
The fact looming that you genuinely could go out and find a man at any given moment, yet here you are with a man forced upon you because you simply won’t do it. The implications of this man being here, why he’s here, how he ended up in this situation.
You’ve never been one to care, so why start now?
“You overthink too much.” Your best friend had said to you once, twice, hundreds of times during your friendship. Maybe she’s right, maybe you should just enjoy the show without feeling entitled to a slutty man’s life story.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jake remains in the bathroom for a good thirty or so minutes, each of them passing like a nightmare in your head. Back and forth your brain goes, from not wanting to be in this situation to fighting yourself for being such a fucking bore. A very, very attractive man is primping himself for you to look at, he’s going to come out and do his best to turn you on, the least you can do is let yourself enjoy something for once. Enjoy him. Gawk and fawn over him. After all, at least you know there’s no promise to be had after he leaves.
No missed calls, no blocked numbers. This is business.
Fucking thankfully, the moment he comes out of your bathroom your mind has adjusted itself into the correct state of mind for this. A torturous adventure of thoughts, but you made it nonetheless. You actually can’t even look away from him now that he’s revealed himself, even when you tried. He isn’t dressed in anything that looks tacky or cheap. Hell, he doesn’t even look sexual. He just looks…
Expensive.
Jake genuinely looks like this is a place where he belongs. He smells like he belongs here, walks and murmurs like it too.
You feel yourself physically react to him in his blazer and dress pants. Business is what got you to where you are today, but never have you found the attire sexy in any way until now. The suit looks much like what your team would wear day to day in the office. Always all those shy men coming into your office, stuttering through their questions and need for approvals. Jake isn’t stuttering in his suit though, he’s standing confidently at his laptop as if he hasn’t even noticed you staring yet.
One look from him though is all he needed. Choosing this attire for someone like you is sure to mix both business and pleasure. It was a gamble of course, to bring your work home for you, but he does have the slight hope that you’ll never look at a man in a suit the same way again after this.
And goddamn the way his abs were glistening in the dim lighting before he had turned away from you. His blazer was partially open revealing nothing but skin when he walked into the room, and you honestly wonder if he even needed to do that. He could be fully clothed at this point and you think the room would still feel hotter than usual given your mind-state.
The way his belt held his pants on his hips was enough to have you thinking, looking as if it’s begging to be unbuckled just so the sound of it could fill your ears. The way the blazer widens his shoulders much more than the sweater from before. He looks bigger right now, both physically and in aura.
The scent of him wafted off of him in an even prettier way when paired with his image. He smells like a sweet type of musk, something you’d be interested in drinking alongside your dinner on special occasions. And under the assumption that the scent is why his abs are fucking glistening– fucking body oil. He uses body oil for this.
His hair rustles about when he turns to face you again, this time with the bass of whatever song he’s playing accentuating each step towards you. So…the talking is done then? Your cheeks heat up at how quickly he starts his session with you, even without a single roll of his body. Already, you could eat him alive, the smirk on his face leading your eyes straight to him.
Trailing down, down down. To his neck, that small glimpse of exposed chest, to the even more exposed lower abdomen section. His belt.
“Good?” He asks, leaning over you and placing his hands on either side of your head as he grips the couch.
You can’t look up at him, eyes training on his chest that you can now fully see through his single buttoned blazer. That same sweet musk assaulting your lungs.
Watching you from up here, Jake can tell you’re going to be fun to play with. A woman with such a harsh exterior now melting at the mere image of him when he’s got the right lights on him. To be fair, he really was warned and prepared by your friend, which didn’t seem the type to afford him on more than one occasion.
He thought it was nice that she paid for another session, shocking him to learn that it wasn’t for herself at all. What a wonderful friend, and what a bitch you’d be to have turned him away.
Finally, you nod to him, still eyeing his body in a shameful show of how much you genuinely did need this. What’s so bad about paying to look? Especially when the man is Jake, and he’s presenting himself like this.
“Rule number one.” Jake smiles, swaying in front of you as his grip tightens against the couch, wanting you to feel trapped and hopefully mesmerized by him, “I only accept bills of twenty, fifty, and one hundred. If you toss a fucking dollar, I’m leaving.”
That’s clearly not an issue you could fathom having, despite your internal protests. You only carry bigger bills anyway so you nod to him, quickly forgetting he even shared that ridiculous rule that would never apply to you by means of watching his hips swirl rather than sway. You see the heaviness in his pants, and you wonder if he gets himself hard for these little shows.
You fear looking up at his face now too, because you know he’s staring down at you, watching your every breath, every move.
“Rule number two,” He lends down now, lowering his voice and blowing against your ear in a short breath. “Don’t touch me without being invited, or without asking.”
Now, that’s a rule that applies to you only because you immediately want to defy it. There’s a knee jerk reaction almost that makes you want to reach out, to grip his flexing body and pull it closer. You wanted to feel how slick his skin is with that wonderfully scented oil. You wanted the scent on your fingers for later, you wanted to feel how warm he must be.
He doesn’t wait for your nod this time though, already noticing a familiar look on your face that he gets from most, if not all, of his clients. This is why he’s so in demand, after all. If he plays hard to get, sometimes he gets more out of his sessions. Sometimes he even gets a repeat client.
“And rule number three–” He continues, this time pulling back and positioning his face in front of yours. This rule appears to be an important one, the rule where you need to look at his face rather than his body. As if it needs to be heard. “I won’t touch you unless you ask– or beg.”
What you’re not realizing at this moment is that rule number three isn’t something he often speaks of. Sometimes, very rarely, Jake is in a mood when he goes out on a job. Condoms are always with him, just in case, but he never intends to use them or utter rule number three until meeting said client. They pay to look at him, not to touch him, however…if they pique his interest he surely offers the third rule.
And if a client never hears of it, they know that even if they ask to touch, he would never. Even if they want him to touch, he wouldn’t touch anywhere too pleasurable.
Meaning, you were right to assume what he was doing in your bathroom for so long. His hand felt better than usual against his length for the split second he had of tucking it into the most attractive position. He knew instantly that tonight was one of those nights, and you were to be a point of his own desire too. He played with himself for a bit, allowing himself to get half hard before coming out of the bathroom.
The way you looked at him finished the job, allowing his cock to grow to full attention at the mere sight of you fawning over him in silent discomfort. So– yeah, the third rule being for you was a given.
And when you swallow around a lump in your throat and look dead into his eyes, he thinks you know exactly what he means too. You’re lucky his cock is acting up, hell, he’s lucky it’s acting up. Look at you, fuck. Those tired eyes look ignited, and what luck the two of you have to have ever known your best friend.
“Deal?” He finally says, tilting his head cutely and waiting for you to nod. And you do nod, just as he suspected you would. Slowly, before glancing down at his body again.
He knows now that it’s time to start moving. Really moving.
“Is the song okay?” He asks, now pulling back and bracing himself against the back of your couch with all of his strength. “It was picked specifically for you.”
You’re not entirely what he means by that, but you assume your friend must have told him what she thinks you’d like.
“It’s fine.” You say, glancing away from his direct eye contact and suddenly feeling like a love-struck puppy in the way you feel so incredibly fucking shy because of him.
Jake notes that you didn’t ask what he meant by the song, but he doesn’t push. He’s better at talking with his body anyway. So, he begins to focus. Opting to start slowly and work his way up, specifically to work you up.
He steps back and away from the couch, centering himself in your living room as he closes his eyes and stretches his arms up to loosen his body a little more. Most of his clients love to see the way his muscles move as he stretches, and he suspects you’re of the same mind.
This entire playlist is chosen for clients like you. The ones he intends to let see all of him if they so wish to. The music is slow, the bass is strong, and each beat runs through the body in a way that makes him shiver. He can move as if he’s fucking you even from across the room without so much as a touch, and he knows you’ll realize it.
He’s at his best too, when this sort of thing happens to him. The eye contact is more intense, his hips are more pointed for a reason other than payment, and arguably he feels he’s most attractive like this too. Considering the countless times he’s been paid to dance and expose himself to women he’d never even look at twice, it always hits differently when a client is just his type.
And when he looks at you through the start of his dance, you appear to be painfully stiff against that soft couch. He smirks, a small chuckle rumbling from his chest. If only you knew how lucky you are, knowing his clients would be on their knees for a chance to experience him like this.
The fact that it’s your first time doing this…he’d be smart to not pull this shit on you. He’s never tried this with a new client, after all but–fuck, just look at you.
Jake’s hips move on their own for the most part, he doesn’t have to think much when he’s getting into it. He easily dances along to the music for you, as if it’s second nature to him despite not yet removing any clothing. It’s the build-up for him now, and he thinks it may be that for you too. Of course, if he leaves your house tonight with a large tip in his pocket and a hard, untouched cock, that’s fine too, though not preferable.
You watch him the same way he watches you, after all, the electricity for this to play out is there. It’s rare that he can feel goosebumps raise on his skin by a mere look from a woman that looks far too powerful despite sitting there helpless. He’s making you helpless, the dim lighting of this room accentuating his body is making you helpless.
And truly, you find yourself understanding with each shadow on his stomach as to why he’s so favored in the groups of lonely women. Arguably, you’re shocked your best friend decided to share him.
As the song begins to fade, Jake readjusts himself. He watches you during the brief silence, a sort of fondness in his eyes making you wonder if he’s looking at you or if he does this for everyone. It feels intimate with the way his eyes slowly scan your body in the quiet room. As if the silence doesn’t need to be filled with anything other than eye contact.
For him though, a woman has never met his eye between songs. Typically, their eyes are glued to his chest, cock, hands, and neck– never his eyes. They’re muttering, moaning, or shouting for him to hurry up, that the clock is ticking and they want to see more. But not you. Even as the next song plays, your eyes stay focused on his until he looks away and starts closing the distance. He skews his body now, allowing you to see him in profile.
In some ways, you have him feeling a bit flustered in the way you keep meeting his eye despite his body making a show for you. He’s never had to act with his face more than he has with you, even as he drops to his knees during a particular part in the song, thrusting his hips forward in an attempt to make you imagine yourself bent over on the floor in front of him.
He glances to his side, and still you’re searching his face.
He, now, looks back down for a moment, finding himself trying to guide yours somewhere else. He knows his job is to be looked at, to be seen, but this is far too seen for his liking. Thankfully, your eyes do follow his, and you gasp at the way he moves.
Your mouth falls open, gripping the hem of your dress as you imagine exactly what he intended.
The fact that this is your first time, Jake realizes this is new ground for him too. Typically, he speaks with his body and it appears now, he needs to portray some form of sexuality to you with his eyes. Like the roles are switched, he has to do to you what you’re supposed to be doing to him.
This is new, but warranted. Easy, even, for him to do it because he does want you.
You watch him intently, not fully realizing that you’re barely watching him fuck the air in front of him. Yeah, you see that too, but your eyes always go back to his and now, his own gaze is meeting yours. His gaze is searching your body, watching you move in reaction. From the way your fingers grip at the clothes he’d like to see on the floor later, to the way you slightly rub your legs together in a way that is almost too easy to miss. This alone is enough for him as his eyes burn their gaze into you. Much like you’re supposed to be doing to him.
He’s supposed to be able to look at you and know exactly what you’re thinking. So be it, the least he can do is let you know what he’s thinking.
Jake’s dance is more intentional now when he leans back on his arms, throwing his head back but keeping his head turned towards you. He tries to show you specifically what he would do to you. That bulge in his pants is large and blatant as he thrusts forward and back to the music. You glance to it, offering the same jittery reactions of arousal.
And this is when he allows his blazer to slide off of his shoulders, reaching to unbutton that single clasp for it to go sliding to the floor. He continues his movements through it, watching your eyes move to his arms and the strength used to hold himself up, his skin more and more visible to you. You do try to keep eye contact but…well, the way his abs flex when he presses forward, going concave with each inhale of those sensual lips that constantly smirk at you.
It’s a shame, really, to know that the bulge in his pants will remain there, unseen.
With his blazer now pooled at his wrists, he regains his focus. He wants you so badly by this point that it’s driving him crazy how hard he’s having to work for it. You’re supposed to be feeling this way, not him. Even if he can see that his routine is causing a reaction from you, he’s practically masturbating himself against the inseam of his pants just to get you to say something to him.
Meaning, he needs to work harder. The current song is soon to be replaced with another, his favorite to dance to, his favorite to fuck to. And to be fair, by the time this playlist gets to this song on this specific playlist, usually his clients are already shaking under him. Not you though, you’re holding yourself back and he can fucking see it.
He ignores the fact that it’s technically not time for him to move on to his next set of dancing, mostly because he almost never has to get to this part, he leaves his blazer on your floor as he positions himself back on his knees, turning towards you this time and looking you straight in the eyes. The fact that he’s hard and horny is enough to amplify the way he’s looking at you, confidence so high that he’s fine with being seen in any way you want.
He’s slow when he does it, crawling a few steps closer to you. You watch the way his shoulders move in the light, his eyes rounded and cheeky, his hair falling in front of them with a charming movement. It’s not intentional when you rub your legs together at the image yet again, very much wanting to spread them the closer he gets to you.
You can’t help but think he looks smaller on his hands and knees, eyes looking up at you as if he could eat you whole. You do wonder if your face reads the same for him, with the nervousness hitting you off and on.
“You’re hot when you look down at me like that.” Jake mutters out of nowhere under the veil of his music, stopping in place in front of you, planting himself right at your feet. “I’d like to touch you, is that okay?”
Nevermind the fact that Jake has never actually had to ask to touch a client before, he really can’t help it at this point. His cock is aching in his pants and he isn’t quite ready to wait an entire playlist worth of songs just to put his clothes back on and leave the door with pain between his legs. He very much wants to fuck something right now, preferably someone.
You.
On the other hand, he’s pleased to see how fucking fast you accept his request. Yes, he can touch you. Fuck, you want him to touch you.
And the whole idea that this is just him doing his job is so far in the back of your mind right now that you almost forget that he probably does this to most of the women he’s paid to entertain. Quite frankly, you don’t give a fuck. You can pretend that he only does this for you, you can live in a fantasy just for a night.
Jake lends you a smile as the current song finally fades out, the silence back except this time, you’re not looking into his eyes when you nod.
He’s slow when he places his hand on your knees, rubbing up, up, up until he’s able to lift himself and hover over you. He intentionally pushes your dress up your thighs, solely because he wanted to see you rub them together in full, shameless view for him. He wants to know what his body does for you. What it does to you.
And he stands, hovering over you for a moment with his hands glued to your thighs before he stares down at them. You just do as he expected, you rub your legs together, you look anywhere but at his eyes now, your hands grip the couch beneath you.
“I’m going to get on top of you,” Jake says now, dipping his head into your line of sight and forcing eye contact again, now gripping the back of the couch rather than your thighs, Just as he did when all of this started. “Would you like that?”
“Do you do this for all of your clients?” You suddenly ask with a smaller voice than you gave him upon opening your door. You breathe in sharply when he moves instead of answering your question immediately.
He spreads his legs, propping himself right on your lap, facing towards you, letting you feel the warmth of his chest radiating near your face.
“What kind of answer are you looking for?” He laughs fondly, grabbing your hands and placing them on his chest. “You should touch me, by the way.” He foregoes his own rule with that one, not wanting to wait any longer for you to maybe ask him yourself. “Just pull away if you don’t want to.” He adds, guiding your hands over his chest and down his abdomen.
“You didn’t answer my question–” You interrupt him, feeling the warmth pool and drip into your panties. “It’s a yes or no question.”
He chuckles sweetly, stopping your hands at his abs and holding them there.
“No,” he admits, moving his focus to the music now that he’s got your hands on him. “I don’t do this for all of my clients.”
Jake isn’t sure why he does it, but now he can’t bring himself to look at you. The eye contact feels more intimate than it should with you asking him such a question and demanding an answer. Even as he swirls his hips, feeling his clothed cock rub up and against you every few seconds, it feels almost too intimate.
“Oh, yeah?” You nervously chuckle back, feeling his muscles move beneath your hand as he thrusts his hips forward.
“You know,” He mutters, guiding your hands a bit lower despite his own confusion at how much he’s enjoying this moment with you. You feel the cold metal of his belt buckle against your palm and you think he’s going to stop there, like maybe this is just something he does to amp up the show or something, but no. He drags your hand down further until you feel the warmth of his cock under his pants..
Your pulse quickens as your ears start to ring. Your eyes avoid where your hand is right now, taking in a deep breath and looking up at him with question. He’s not looking back though, instead, his head is dropped and he’s staring at his pathetic bulge against your hand. He’s dancing into it, against it.
“I’ve never gotten this hard over a client that doesn’t want me.” He admits shamefully in a pathetic little laugh, bucking against your palm again to the beat of the song. “I can’t tell if I’m doing my job well enough.”
You feel shocked at that. A client that doesn’t want him? Is he fucking insane?! Then again, you need to be honest with yourself sometimes. You’ve tried to appear as uninterested as possible until he started crawling to you. There is clear attraction, obvious needs swirling in the air right now. You force yourself now to look at your hand with the hefty bulge rubbing desperately against it. The sheer size of him is something entirely different from what you were expecting out of him. This feels forbidden.
Wrong, even, But goddamn. The man is masquerading his dance solely so he can fuck against your right now. Maybe you should show some interest.
“You’re doing well, Jake,” You finally mutter to him, the first compliment you’ve given since he got here.
“Yeah?’ He sighs out, relieved as his hips press harder into your palm. Arguably, he’s not even dancing at this point, just trying to get off. “How well?”
Yeah, he’s a little desperate at this point for you to do something on your own. It’s so out of character for him to do all of this just to…well, get off.
“Show me,” He raises his brows, now removing his hands from yours and running them up his chest. His hips continue to move on you, and he watches you as you hold your hand in place. “Come on, the buckle is right there–” he nearly pleads. “You don’t have to be shy.”
Like a book, the two of you read the other at this moment. You’re not a woman of many words and he seems to understand that now, taking your single compliment and running with it. You do as he says, unbuckling his belt and now, sliding your hands up his body to meet his.
“There you go,” He stresses through another relieved sigh. Leaving your hands where they are against his chest and sliding the belt from his loops on his own. He tosses the belt behind him, relishing in that lost look in your eye.
You clearly have no fucking idea what you’re doing, but you seem to like it. And god, does he fucking love it. Especially when he motions his head back down, forcing your hands back to where they belong and helping you unbutton his pants.
“Take it out, go on.” He says in a rush, “I’m asking you to do it.”
To be fair, you’re going to do it despite the nervousness in your gut. It’s been so long since you’ve touched a man, and even longer since you wanted to. You could half argue that you feel like you’re about to lose your virginity right now despite all those hook-ups in college. Still, you don’t even nod at him when you do it. Carefully tugging his pants down and watching the weight of his cock do the rest of the work for you.
His legs spread wider as he points it up at you, a lewd scene, one that feels both disgustingly sexy and very, very, straight forward. You’ve never been like this with any other person. Or rather, no one has ever blatantly shown themselves like this to you.
And still, Jake just looks at you. So much eye contact becoming more and more comfortable as he learns what you seem to like. He can feel the air in your apartment against the head of his cock, the cool air rushing past his shaft and causing him to shiver with a very quiet moan. He still only looks at you during this moment, wondering why you’ve let your hands fall to his thighs. Then he sees a new look in your eyes.
Are you…waiting to be told what to do?
For some reason, he keeps forgetting that you’ve never had a stripper in your home before, let alone been seduced by one. Honestly though, he assumed you’d catch on by the point his cock was out. This isn’t for show anymore, he wants you.
“Touch me?” He asks gently, reaching back down to your hands and urging you to grab his cock. “You don’t even have to move, I can do the rest–” He chokes out a groan mid-sentence as he feels you grasp him in your fist.
Such a silent woman beneath him. He can only read you in specific moments, this one not at all being one of them. You’re hesitant but willing, perhaps? You leave him questioning himself and his own motives, still wondering if that compliment you gave him was genuine or just part of your own little show.
Yet still, you’re gripping him tightly and allow him to focus his hopes. Dancing beautifully into that little circle your hand creates for him. The best part is that when or if he ever actually dances to this song, it’s when he’s blatantly fucking someone. So the movements come naturally, just as they would if your legs were buckling and your pussy was spread open on him. So, basically, this dance is nothing short of fucking your fist, pretending to keep up an act that he so wishes you’d see through.
He keeps his face intense, moving his shoulders and arms as if it’s easy for him to turn the tables and position you to where your legs are on his shoulders and he’s rubbing his cock against your, hopefully, soaked panties.
It’s a struggle though, to not moan out in desperation when you tighten your grip on him. He watches your pupils blow out, and can see the way you’d now probably ask him to do just that. To put it on you, to shove it in you. And so, he slows his hips a bit and catches his breath, staring down at you in wait.
“You’re really expecting me to get off all on my own?” He finally says in an exasperated breath to your stillness and silence. He really is, trying to act as though he can’t see the look in your eyes and how it’s changed since he started dancing. “Baby, don’t you want it?” He adds, now waiting to see if you’ll move your hand away from him.
You don’t though, to his surprise, you actually start moving your hand on him. You’re jerking him off, staring up at him like you want it, squeezing the head of his cock before dragging those pretty fingers back down.
Instantly his eyes roll back. “Fuck, that’s good,” He compliments your hand, shaking a bit and shivering at the fact that you really just did that. “Can I stop pretending that I’m still dancing for you now?”
You find it in yourself to chuckle now, nodding with a confident sort of smile. It hit you fairly quickly, actually, as you watched him chase his pleasure all by himself. He’s so hard, and so incredibly thick in your hand, you’d be stupid to say it didn’t turn you on. It’s that fact that you’ve barely said anything to him and he’s begging you to look at him, to watch him, to touch him. All of your nervousness slowly disappeared because it was being replaced with power.
Now, that, you’re used to. You know what power feels like in all aspects of the working world, but never at home. Never when sex is involved. You’re always expected to play the part of a desperate woman in need of love, and that’s just not you. No, you’re a powerful woman with nerves that could kill you. And the way Jake parallels your working world, it’s almost too perfect. You’re used to men being beneath you, begging for your money, giving you all of their attention, apologizing for normal human errors.
Jake isn’t exactly begging you for money, but he’s still begging for your hands.
“No.” You finally say, relishing in the shock on Jake’s face. “Keep dancing, it’s what you’re being paid to do.”
His eyes fall a bit now as he nods his head. You almost feel his cock falter at the same time at your response, but you move your hand a bit faster. You grip a bit tighter, urging him to do whatever it is that’s on his mind. You want to see if he will actually do as he’s told now, considering you’re the one with the money to bring him back here.
It’s endearing how he does his best, and honestly, his best probably far surpasses some of the most notable dancers on the market if you had any idea of how they were. It’s just a bit hard to continue this act for him when you’re gripping his cock in such a beautiful way.
“You’re–” He pauses to hold in a moan, feeling the way you drag your hand in time with his dance. “You’re not going to ask me to touch you?” He finally adds, meeker than before, far less confidence.
In fact, he’s hiding his face.
You smile in response, looking up at him with dark and wide pupils as you swallow each movement his body makes for you. Your ears are still ringing, unable to comprehend the music blasting in your sound system. Your focus is solely on him, your hands are on him, your confidence is because of him.
The answer to that question should be a given, after all, shouldn’t he be well aware considering this little stunt he pulled that actions truly speak louder than words?
“No wonder she liked you so much.” You start, now loosening your grip on him just to see the way his hips frantically chase the warmth of your palm.
“Wait–” He asks slightly out of breath, cheeks flushed and bashful. “You really thought, I let her get me off like this?”
It almost pisses him off that you’d say that to him, then again, it’s not like you knew that this specific instance is rare and reserved for very few clients.
“You couldn’t even look at me properly thirty minutes ago, now you think you can make assumptions?” He argues, pushing away from you.
Your response is skewing an eyebrow at him, watching him fight for control as he pulls his hips back and shuffles off of you and onto his feet. You glance down at his cock and the way it stands painfully erect, twitching at the sudden lack of friction.
“Is it wrong to assume when you very clearly want me to make you cum?”
He stills himself, a blank expression turning to that of a devilish smile, eyes narrowing at you as he leans over you.
“Are you suggesting that you’ll get me off?”
You smile, spreading your legs a bit and feeling the stickiness drip through your panties now.
“She did tell me that some clients have gotten special treatment from you,” You mock him slightly, watching his eyes glue themselves to your thighs. You make a show to spread your legs a bit for him. “I also know that she was no such client.”
A small moment of silence as he devours you with his eyes, seemingly interested in the attitude you have towards him now.
“I also didn’t imagine your clients would be the ones getting you off.”
Honestly, it’s like he hit the fucking jackpot with you. Challenging him, mocking him with his cock out in front of you. If you so much as wiggled your cunt in front of him, he would instantly be back on his knees, letting you soak his face in whatever way you please.
“Normally they’d be jumping at the chance, you though–” Jake very nearly growls at you with a deepened voice. “You look like you’re the one who needs to get off, if anything to get that snarky grin off your face.”
“Go on then, dance.”
It’s almost like a game now, he feels. You know he’s trying to seduce you and it seems you’re enjoying the fact that you haven’t let him yet. He knows that you intend to let him, so yeah, fuck yeah, he’s going to play along.
He raises a brow at you as he steps back once more, trying to ignore the fact that his cock is aching to be touched again. You still want your show? Good. He’ll fucking give you a show.
Jake does as he’s told, finally kicking his pants off in full and keeping his eyes on you the entire time. He watches the way your legs spread when he rubs his hands down his naked chest, straight down to his cock where he only briefly tugs at himself. He can almost see under your dress as you continue to spread your legs more and more, but the lighting is far too dim to see what his act is doing to you just yet.
When he saunters behind you, dipping his head by your neck and whispering the dirtiest part of the song into your ear, he can see your sharp intake of air, and he watches the way your breasts move with each breath he forces out of you, and the way your nipples perk through the fabric.
So, he stays here behind you with his hips pressed to the back of your couch, ghosting his hands over your neck, moving down your arms, and then to your chest. He doesn’t touch, because you still haven't asked yet, but he knows hovering alone is enough. It’s like he can feel the electricity beneath his fingers somehow reaching your skin.
And he continues to sing against your ear, leaning further forward to plant his hands on your thighs again, mostly because he’s already been given permission to touch you there.
“More,” He gently demands between lyrics. “Spread them all the way.”
Jake watches for a moment from behind you, pressing his cock against the back of the couch the moment he sees your legs stretch open, your dress hiking up past your waist, enough now that he can at least see a glimpse of the skin closest to your pussy.
“Ask me to touch you.” He pleads against your ear, trailing his fingers up your thighs enough to where he would need you to tell him to stop otherwise. “Just tell me you want it.”
It’s silent save for the music playing, and his cock is aching so badly by this point that each time he rubs against the couch he’s almost breaking down to fucking beg you to let him touch you. That alone could make him cum, but god, you’re so good at playing hard to get even if it’s blatantly obvious that he’s already got you.
You’re fucking playing with him, and he can’t decide if he loves it or hates it.
Your silence is so damning to his dripping cock, and his skin feels so hot right now that he’s almost forgotten that he was paid to be doing anything that’s not this.
“No.” You playfully respond, dangling yourself just out of reach. You breathe in deep though, knowing you can’t keep denying him for much longer with the way his hands are rubbing at you. “I like it better when you’re the one asking for it.” You lean your head back and rest it against the cushions of the couch, and he instantly moves from your neck to look down at you.
Oh.
“Cute.” He says, having no issue at all to be the one to ask, beg, plead, or cry. Whatever it takes to get a feel of you at this point. It’s just…new to him.
Another long moment of eye contact has him trailing his hands higher than before, almost to the point that there’s no skin on your thighs to touch that doesn’t involve your panty line.
“May I?” He asks, leaning down a bit closer so that his face is mere inches from yours. “Will you take my fingers?”
You could mistake this distance as something that should not be crossed between the two of you. Barely hearing his question at this moment, the only thing you want to do is to kiss him, and it hit you so fucking fast that you almost forgot he’s doing anything you ask of him.
“Come again?” You smile, blinking up at him.
He breathes in, seemingly frustrated.
“My fingers. Take them.” He says rather than asking this time, already moving his hands to trace up your panties and feeling the wetness seep through onto his fingertips. “You’re already dripping–baby,” He stops to moan at it, amazed by how fucking soaked you are. “I can imagine they’d slide right in.”
Typically, you wouldn’t allow anyone to call you that. “Baby.” but coming from his mouth, it sounds fitting. It sounds seductive, sexy. It has your stomach in knots, actually, your hips bouncing up just slightly at his words with the pet name attached. Finally, you let him. Finally, you grind yourself against his fingers.
“I’ll make you feel so good–” He groans at your movements, loving how desperate you suddenly appear despite pretending you weren’t going to work for your own pleasure. He continues to trace his fingers up and down just to feel the mess of you, the one that he created, and the one that he intends to make messier.
“Moving your hips isn’t the answer though, baby.”
You swear he can read your mind, there’s no fucking way he would say it like that without knowing how you just internally admitted to liking it.
“Yes,” You let out shortly, darting your eyes away from him. “I’ll take them.”
That breathy laugh he releases sounds sweet, almost dripping like syrup when he lays his head beside your neck. His soft singing picks back up as he listens to you now more than the music, his fingers continuously ghosting where he promised to put them, not yet moving your panties.
Paired with it, his abdomen stays tense as he humps against your couch, his muscles locking up at the pleasure running through him in this position. Your hips lightly chase his fingers, up when his fingers move down, and he can’t help the shy smile that spreads across his lips. It’s one you don’t see, but the constant shift in your personality is something that keeps him on edge. Keeps him wanting more, to know more, to see and feel more of you.
And when he finally reaches around you with his other hand, pulling your panties to the side and exposing your pussy, he watches you take over for him and push them down instead, offering far more than he anticipated. He watches as you kick them off your ankles almost elegantly, as if you could do this job of dancing better than he can.
“Eager?” He teases, knowing you won’t respond to that. And you don’t. It pleases him to know that at least by now, he can kind of read you. Yet, still, there’s nothing more at this moment that would please him more than getting to see you in full. To wander back around this couch and get a real good, close up look at what he’s doing to you.
“You’re so wet right now.” He groans, knowing that you were soaked before and only hoping you’re dripping more and more for him now. His cock is weeping as much as he’d like for you to be, chasing any amount of friction he could have. And he can see his fingers slip and slide through your slick into places he wasn’t even attempting to touch just yet solely because of how wet you are.
“You held out for so long,” He coos now with a soft breath against your neck, feeling your cheek nuzzle against his flexing arm. “Look at that,” Two of his fingers tease at your hole before– “they slipped right in.”
Your breathing is labored by this point, feeling him play with you as if he has all the time in the world to fuck with your head. Which is…nice. No rushing despite the time limit on his session, proving time and time again that you’re getting more than others get from him. Lucky you, that you can moan out without shame for him.
And you do, grabbing his hand and practically fucking yourself with his fingers. That takes him by surprise as the warmth and sheer tightness envelopes his digits. You are excruciatingly sexy to him, he doesn’t even attempt to stop you.
In fact, he doesn’t even hold back now, meeting each chase of your hips with the force of his fingers plunging into you deeply, with full intention. He scissors them open, feeling your hole stretch around them beautifully enough to fit in a third. And god, you’re so fucking wet. He can hear the slapping of his soaked fingers inside of you pushing more and more of that arousal out.
He moans blatantly against your ear now, easing you into talking back to you.
“Bet you could take cock so well–” He murmurs, feeling you shiver against his grasp. “How long has it been? Hm?”
He’s talking to you, yes, but hyping himself up at the same time. The scent of your hair forcing a slight obsession with you in his mind. The way you feel, look, smell, move when you’re just inches from him like this. He knows you won’t respond to a goddamn thing he says too, but it doesn’t matter too much to him at this point. Because now, you’re whimpering.
Such a confident, well respected woman…fucking whimpering.
“What was that?” He asks playfully, running his other hand up your body until he gets to your neck. “Has it been that long?”
And for the first time, you were going to answer. For the first time, he doesn’t leave room for you to answer. Instead, you feel his palm resting flush against your neck, now pressing in and practically holding you down by the neck as he fucks his fingers into you faster.
Painfully faster.
“Cry for me again,” He encourages you, wincing as his own hips frantically chase the back of your couch. “You’re allowed, come on, do it again.”
And because he’s working for it, because he’s doing so fucking well, you let out another choked moan. His hand straining your neck so tightly that any sound coming out sounds strained and desperate, even the sound of yourself right now ignites a fire inside of you. You can feel that grasp tighten each time his fingers fuck into you with a painful jab, his palm placed so perfectly that you can feel your clit being rubbed each time he pulls his hand back.
It’s…overwhelming.
“Yes, fuck- again.” He groans, bucking his hips forward and frantically lifting his head from your shoulder, all so he can look down at you. He’s heard you, now he wants to fucking see how desperate you are when you cry out.
When you open your eyes again, wincing every few seconds at both the pleasure and pain of his desperate hands, all you can see is his face. All you can feel are those same long fingers threatening more and more cries from your chest. He’s hitting spots inside of you that haven't been touched in a long time. Feeling it now almost burns, even with the cold metal of that single ring on his finger against your neck.
And when he tightens that hand on your neck once more, not only do you cry out, but he matches you with his own stuttered gasp. You strain to keep your eyes on him through this moment, watching the way his teeth appear to scrape at his bottom lip when the sound of you envelopes his ears. So, you do it again, and again, and again.
His fingers only continue their aggressive assault inside of you, his palms still hitting your clit, and that other hand around your throat…honestly? You could fucking sing songs to him at this moment if he so wished it.
“You’re shaking.” He comments, eyes flicking to your body. “Can you even breathe right now?”
His smile looks so fucking mean, knowing full well that you can’t breathe and only tightening his hand harder against your throat. Nevermind the fact that you never discussed this type of thing with him, fucking wasn’t even in the agenda. But now? Fuck it. You do like it. Maybe you even love it. The way you’re moaning for him is all either of you need to know.
This time though, when you moan out and it’s sounding particularly raspy, he releases his hand from your throat and instantly leans down to your lips. He’s a bit shocked that you immediately strain your neck to kiss him. What he was going to do was degrade you. Now though, he’s just tasting the way you’re so desperate to kiss him. As if you’re wanting this to be real, to be intimate.
Arguably, your idea was better than his own because now he can’t bring himself to degrade you. In fact, he was stupid to even consider such a fucking thing. Despite never kissing his clients, things with you have already lasted far longer than he’d normally allow. Things have already surpassed the intimacy level he allows too, even with the very few lucky women who get to touch him. He’s never asked for it, and he’s never gotten this much of his own pleasure out of finger fucking them. Not once has he ever fucked himself against a couch to hold himself back for a woman either.
Maybe just this once, he can want it to be real too. Even if he leaves with a pocket full of cash, the fantasy right now is enough for him to accept it as is. If you want him to kiss you, he will fucking kiss you.
His pupils grow as his eyes close, slowing his fingers unintentionally as he focuses on your lips and tongue. Even his body against your couch relaxes and his hips slow to that of a sensual thrust forward, one that offers a long and painful drag against his already raw and reddened cock. You kiss him back better than he’s even been kissed before, and falling into it was terrifyingly easy.
His brain nearly short circuits at the softness of it, allowing his hands to move on their own accord, cupping your jaw with one hand and emptying your pussy to rub your clit with the other. He’s intentionally deepening the kiss far past his own comfort level.
But he is comfortable, and that’s precisely what’s uncomfortable about it.
“You can take it–” Jake mutters between kisses, more focused on your lips than the words he spilling to you. “You want more, right?” He continues, only now pulling back in a breath and waiting for you to adjust your eyes on his.
Immediately, when you open your eyes they widen at him. Goddamn, was he this sexy before? Did he even look this into you when he was on your lap fucking your fist? Out of all of his begging, this…this right here. Are you really about to fuck a stripper? The man you were so against meeting just this morning? The man who has $600 in his bank account from your lovely, fucking adored and beautiful best friend?
The man that you’re probably going to give the entirety of the contents in your purse to the moment he packs up and moves on as if this never happened?
Yes.
“I want more–” You say to him, blinking at his pretty eyes and intentionally rubbing your clit against his fingers, mostly because it appears as if he’s stopped functioning all together.
And before you can even blink, his fingers are pulled away and his presence is gone. You lift your head to watch him, cock still erect and heavy against his thigh as he goes directly to his bag. As if he knew it was going to happen, as if this was his plan before he even met you, he pulls out a condom and slips it on without so much as a sigh of relief.
After all, he does have to take precautions to be fucking an absolute stranger like this.
“Oh.” You huff in disappointment, not entirely meaning for him to hear it.
He raises his eyes to you as he pulls at the end of the condom, offering plenty of space for whatever release he intends to have soon, but his eyes don’t seem concerned nor bothered.
“What? You want it raw?” He asks playfully, wiggling his eyebrows briefly before making his way back to you. “That’ll require a bit more discussion, you know.”
Discussion that neither of you are willing to have solely because your pussy is throbbing and his cock appears to be more pathetic than it already was being strangled in that thin layer of latex. And without another word, allowing both of you to put that to rest for now, he’s right back over you, lifting your dress up and off of you.
“Fuck.” He breathes out as your tits falls from their perfect place within the dress. The sopping wet couch beneath you only soaking up more of your slick as his words force more out of you. God, you feel so wanted.
You keep your arms lifted to help him ease the dress entirely off of you, leaving you bare beneath him as he instantly goes to grab both tits, pressing them together before flicking both nipples with the tips of his fingers.
Your body jolts at the sensation, feeling it run through you and swell your clit more than it already was. The ache is worse, your hole is pulsing, yearning, wanting to be filled. Still though, he takes his precious expensive time, leaning down and sucking one erect nub into his mouth and flicking it all the same with his tongue.
“Right here?” He mouths from around your tit, eyes closed and tongue still focused elsewhere. “You want to be fucked here?” He mumbles again, realizing that his question will likely go unanswered. It’s very likely that he is going to fuck you right here, on your living room couch. Asking you such a thing was stupid, borderline cringe-worthy.
To his surprise though, you lend him a small “no.” as you lace your fingers in his hair, pushing his lips to your other nipple just to feel the warmth of his tongue.
“No?” He questions, blinking up at you from your chest before biting gently around the sensitive bud against his mouth. “Where then?”
To his dismay, your smile is still beautiful but the way you close your legs and sit yourself up from the slouched, relaxed position you were in disappoints him. Mostly because he’s now forced to stand up too, and even more so because he has to keep his head dipped in order to keep his mouth on that perfect nipple of yours.
His disappointment fades as you hold his head there, feeling your legs almost buckle against him when he moans around it, sending vibrations through your chest. You remain gentle though, wobbling on your legs and shuffling forward, allowing him to continue his antics. Slowly but surely, you turn him around and back him up against the couch.
Only now, when you push him back and his teeth graze your sensitive nub do you realize that he’s so, so much needier than you expected. Even with his begging, his little disappointed sound didn’t go unnoticed. His brows are still furrowed now, not even paying attention to the fact that you’ve just shoved him down so that you can be the one straddling him. It’s cute, actually. Noticing how he was so intimidating when he came into your house, walking with confidence, dancing with intention, finger fucking you and choking you as if he had a right to do it…only to now look at him and the way he’s melting.
The way he’s needy, borderline puppy-like to be near you.
His eyebrows shoot up from that little face of disappointment though, when you pull yourself from his mouth and instead plant yourself right on his lap, letting your pussy lips envelope the underside of his cock as you grind up immediately.
It’s the first slippery touch his cock has felt all night and honestly? He’s been on edge this entire time. You grind so fucking beautifully, and it’s a first for him to realize that he’s entirely speechless.
You’ve rendered him incapable of speaking.
“You’re cute, I don’t think you realize that.” You comment, gliding against his cock and watching his hands reach out to grip your waist, “Really cute.”
He doesn’t falter at your compliments, instead he just melts into it even more. His cheeks are permanently blushed as he leans forward to try and get your tits in his face again, and all you can do is grip his hair and let him. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt the head of a cock bumping your clit, and you’d never forgive yourself for not letting yourself have this kind of fun more often.
And Jake just gets whinier. His cock pulses and twitches to be inside of you all the while despite the discomfort of that latex layer likely needing to be replaced already. Still, his hands keep moving your waist, pushing and pulling you faster against him until– ah.
You angle yourself perfectly when he slides your upwards again. All you had to do was perk your ass out and wait for him to push you back down. Finally, he slides in without fully realizing that’s what was going to happen, and goddamn the sound he makes, fuck.
“Mmfuck,” He winces, digging his nails into your hips at the speed of which he bottomed out. The breath is knocked out of him and all you can do is stare down. Look at him now, so docile and sweet like he wasn’t fucking your livingroom floor prior to this.
And the grip of you on him, so strong. The slide was so easy, so fast, that he genuinely is seeing stars at how good you feel wrapped around him. The velvet walls inside of you pulsing, pushing and squeezing his cock all over. He can’t help the sounds he makes, grunting and feeling that grip you have in his hair intensify his pleasure.
Both of you now let out a long winded breathy groan at the sensation of your body adjusting to his, in all fairness, you had to grip onto something and his hair just so happened to be the best thing at the moment. He seems to love it though, so when you finally regain your senses of being absolutely fucking full, you pull at it again, tilting his head back so that you can see the expanse of his neck and the way it moves when he swallows.
“Bounce.” He croaks out at you, eyes glistening with pure fucking hope that you will.
And, well…when you feel his length pulse in place inside of you, you do exactly as he asked. You bounce, taking his full, thick cock each and every time. Not allowing a single inch of it to be neglected. All he can do in response is squint, trying to keep his eyes open through each breathy groan of praise and encouragement. He does lose himself entirely to the feeling of euphoria and the pain of how harshly you keep his head tilted back.
He really didn’t think you could get any sexier, honestly, and as far as he’s concerned…if he moves right now he’s going to cum. So, he doesn’t. Instead, he just lazily smiles at you and lets his eyes finally close so that he can fall right back into the state of seeing nothing but stars.
Frustrated, yet incredibly turned on by the way you’ve just completely lost him, you bounce harder, then you sit flush against him, twisting and swirling your hips. Grinding forward back, counting how he moans each time you do something that feels particularly sensitive for him. And you hang onto that, repeating those actions, lifting your ass and sliding back down. Again and again, until your legs shake and your fingers threaten to pull his hair too hard.
“Look at you now,” You half-chuckle out of breath, hearing the wet slaps of skin on skin paired with his blatant and sensual moans drowning out the playlist that has been long forgotten. “You can’t even move.”
All he does is nod his head, that same lazy and cocky smile appears as if to insinuate that you’re damn fucking right he can’t. Like he’s proud of it. And you’re not going to ignore the fact that his hands are still on your waist either, gripping onto you so tightly that you fear he could draw blood if you move the wrong way.
“Keep going, baby–” He somehow manages to say to you. “Don’t stop.”
There it is. This entire time he’s been begging to fuck you, and now he’s finally begging you to fuck him. His voice still sounds like honey, with that impressively hard cock inside of you pulsing so constantly that you could probably feel him in your stomach if you were to press against it.
“Mhm,” You answer him, promising that you won’t stop through just a half-moan and a long winded intake of air. Honestly? At this very moment, you feel like you’re sitting on a throne. Jake, obviously, being said throne but whatever. The fucking power he’s making you feel is nothing short of alluring.
And now, as that power goes to your head, you opt to grind rather than bounce for him now. Your hips aren’t as erratic, yet still he tenses up for you, forcing his cock to somehow feel even harder as you fuck it into yourself through lazy drags of your clit against his pelvis.
If you keep going like this, you could cum in an instant. But before you can even finish that thought, you look down at him on instinct due to his sudden silence.
His eyes are squeezed shut tightly, and his mouth is open in a silent moan. You can see that he’s not breathing, seemingly holding his breath even after you release his hair. His head lolls back with that same expression, and that’s when you feel his fingernails dig.
“Oh,” You moan, now resuming your grinding much harder now, making a point to bump your clit repeatedly against him. “Fuck, are you cumming right now?”
Still he doesn’t respond, you can only feel his hips stutter under you despite trying to remain entirely still and stiff for you. You know that now is when you need to be chasing, because you’ll be damned if you’re not going to cum with him inside of you.
You want to be full like this, you want to squeeze him, to play with his sensitive cock even if it starts to soften. He’s too pretty, too fucking pretty when he whimpers. And so, you continue grinding, up until you’re on the brink of your orgasm but not quite there yet. To the point his cock is only half in you with the way you’re angling your clit against him, chasing your own high so aggressively that you barely feel his fingers tightening on you again.
Jake shoots his head back up, eyes opening as the sensitivity hits him quicker than he would have liked, but you don’t relent. The pain is intense from how hard you’re riding him, but he can see how close you are, the image alone compliments that sensitivity he’s feeling right now.
He seethes out painful praises to you as your desperate cunt finally reaches orgasm, squeezing against his softening length so tightly that he can’t help but whimper with you. Still, he studies your face through his own winces, shuddering at the way you close your legs around him despite them being forced to stay open in this position. You try to curl into the pleasure, as if you wish you could disappear completely alongside it.
And god, the way you grip at his arms for leverage as you shake through it. Dare he say…he’s fond of you. It still hurts, but it kind of hurts more when he knows it’s over. Mostly because it feels like he’s been in this room with you for days, knowing that’s not true. Surely he’s stayed longer than your allotted time with him, but you seemed to have given him something worth staying for at least.
When you slump over him, he almost wants to cry from how fucking sensitive he is right now. Thankfully, you seem sensitive too as you wince before he does, remaining as gentle as you can when you reach down to the base of his cock and hold the condom, allowing him to slide out of you at his own pace.
And then, the playlist comes to an abrupt end at just the wrong moment, because it forces Jake to realize that he hadn’t stayed at all over his paid time frame. Now, all he can hear is the way his breath is entirely too uneven compared to any of his sessions with prior clients like this. He’s breathing much too fondly for you, or rather, not breathing well because of you. He can’t just…go home can he?
“You okay?” You ask to the slight panicked look on his face, seeing how he stares straight up at the ceiling, not blinking, no readable expression. “Jake?”
He shakes himself out of it, eyes slowly moving and blinking to look at you.
“That–” He tries to talk, genuinely, he does. “Um…”
The change in atmosphere almost freaks you out. Isn’t this what he wanted? You saw the way he lost himself there briefly though, you can admit. None of this was even that rough or kinky, so you’re a bit confused as to why he’s acting like this.
Maybe you even feel a bit guilty. Like you’re the problem. So, you silence yourself and lift onto weak legs to stumble and find your dress. You throw it on quickly, hiding your shame that he so wanted to see just fifteen minutes ago. Then, you head for your purse and grab every single bill you have folded neatly inside.
Just like that, you place the money in his shaking hand and can’t bare to look at him.
“Wha-” He starts, licking his dried lips and sitting up a bit too quickly. “Why are you giving me so much?”
“It’s your tip.” You try to say casually as you clear your throat. “You can shower too, if you’d like.”
Jake holds his breath, hoping you don’t genuinely think he did all of that for the money. He was already paid to be here, the whole…you know, fucking thing, was his doing. What happened was because he wanted it, and…he still does. Are you truly just strictly back to business like this? You literally just handed him his rent for the month and then some, it kind of amazes him. The audacity. As if he’s never been handed handsome sums of cash from drunken lonely women. You aren’t a woman who needs him, and yet you pay like you did.
“Shower with me?” He forces himself to ask, because he knows he’ll regret it if he doesn’t. After all, this tip feels like a rejection of what just happened. Hush money, even.
He doesn’t know what just crept into this room through the fucking silence, but he doesn’t like it. And it seems you don’t either, because you instantly comfort him with a smile and a step forward.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
He didn’t intend to spend the night, free of charge no less, but he did. All of that including some embarrassing talk involving the seriousness of how this is not normal for him.
Surprisingly, you believe him.
After the shower, the mood had shifted into something that felt natural and less rehearsed. He wasn’t just some stripper you could call over with a downpayment of $600, he was Jake, a man trying to make ends meet in a city far too expensive even for you if you’re being honest.
Jake, a man wanted by several women. You, on the other hand, feel the need to mend your lonely and stone-cold heart with him, however much that may cost. Not to fall in love, or to fill any type of voice. If anything, you want to be taken care of in specific ways, and you’d like to take care of him in turn.
So, when he grimaced at your joke, saying that he would practically be your sugar baby and that you’d run off all of his other business out of need to continuously be fucked by him and him alone, you almost stopped pressing the matter.
Because you would run off all his clients solely for keeping him too busy with you to go to them. You would be paying him every time, making damn sure he’s well taken care of and financially stable.
Jake did notice how you looked disappointed, quickly backtracking his grimace.
“Wait, you’re serious?”
You nod shyly, blinking at him.
“It’s not like we have to sleep together every time, you won’t even have to dance for me anymore.” You argue, knowing that’s at least a half-lie. “All I ask is that you don’t fuck your other clients if you’re still seeing me, and intending to..you know–”
Jake nods happily, without question even.
“So, what happens if I’m horny and you’re not available then?”
You narrow your eyes at him.
“Jerk off like a normal person?”
Fair enough.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
man, i forgot how lame this fic is but yknow what? good for me. jake is so fuckin’ fine fr I DON’T EVEN CAREEEEEEEEEEE. pls reblog and leave feedback on my work :D
#enhypen smut#sim jaeyun smut#jake smut#jake sim smut#jake x reader#enhypen x reader#enhypen hard hours
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