#Premature Ejaculation Does Not Exist

[fairyofshampgyu]

Super shy !

genre: smut, baker au, college au, crack

Pairing: shy loser virgin bakery worker ! soobin x college customer ! reader

Warnings: sub soobin, dom reader, clubbing, loss of virginity, riding, hand job, titty groping (can’t be a Soobin smut without him being obsessed with boobies be fr), premature ejaculation,

word count: 2.9k

As soon as you stepped into the newly established campus bakery, walking up to the counter and observing all the pastries, contemplating for a rather long time before you end up deciding on what you’d usually order anyway, Soobin couldn’t help feeling like his world got totally turned upside down. The sight of you rendering him completely speechless and unable to even think.

Time seemingly going by so slow like in the kdramas as your shiny hair majestically blows in the non existent wind inside, smile brightening up the entire bakery. He could practically see the roses blooming around your face like in the mangas. Was this love at first sight?!

Realistically, no.

But were you incredibly attractive to him and a breath of fresh air to the moody, stressed out college students that purchase a single coffee and stay for hours completing assignments with their backs concerningly hunched over? Hell yes.

And unfortunately for Soobin, he does not do well with pretty people. At all. Not realising you had even ordered, too in awe and preoccupied with taking in all your features until he’s snapped back to reality with the clearing of your throat and he can already feel his cheeks burning up horribly fast. Oh god. He really, really hopes it’s not evident right now.

“S-sorry…What did you say?” He begins apologising profusely to you, too embarrassed to even look you in the eyes, staring off more to the side. This was definitely not his best customer service.

With a chuckle, you brush it off and state your order again, “I said could I have the strawberry swirl cheesecake please?” If Soobin could look at himself in third person, he would so be face palming right now. Or better yet, maybe he could just go up and like, punch himself straight up or something for acting like such a loser.

“Ah right... That’s ₩7500. Cash or card?”

You pay with cash and Soobin, very nervously, fumbles around to garner the right amount of change to hand you, though doing it in the most awkward way possible and his palm makes direct contact with yours as he hands the money, making him blush even more and let out a small obvious gasp at the feeling of your soft hand. Oh my god. Why did he do that?! He really hopes you didn’t find that weird.

You only let out another chuckle, thanking him before you’re leaving the bakery in an elegant manner and Soobin is left to sigh and watch your back disappear. Damn it. He’ll probably never see you again. You were so pretty and so cute, too cute even-

“You’re such a virgin.”

His thoughts about you are abruptly dissipated by his coworker and unfortunately best friend, Choi Beomgyu who gives him the stupidest, most annoying grin he would definitely like to slap off his face right now.

“Just shut up.” Soobin grimaces and rolls his eyes at beomgyu, bringing a batch of freshly baked cookies out of the oven behind him and placing them into the display glass one by one.

"You’re pinker than the strawberry macarons we sell. That's saying something." Beomgyu raises an eyebrow at him with sass.

So does that mean you could see how flustered he was getting then? Oh no! Soobin clears his throat and narrows his eyes at beomgyu anyway. “Am not.”

“Are too! Anyway, all I’m saying is that interaction was painful to watch. You’re really giving pathetic, loser, virgin right now. I cant lie.” Beomgyu attempts to stifle in one of his obnoxious laughs.

Soobin is quick to snap back, "You've only ever slept with one person!"

"S-so!! At least im not a virgin!" Beomgyu’s cheeks also become the equivalent to the strawberry macarons as he scrambles to try and defend himself, brows furrowed and cheeks puffed.

“Well, the concept of a virgin is purely societal anyway. It doesn’t actually matter. It doesn’t mean anything really.” Soobin bitterly replies, continuing to work whilst his counterpart does completely nothing like most of the time. It's usually soobin that does work, remind him not to agree to beomyu's silly ideas of getting a job together ever again.

Beomgyu scoffs and snickers at this, "Whatever. You’re just saying all that to make yourself feel better because you’re a loser. LMAO"

"I’ll punch you right now."

"Then we'll both be fired~”

A poor customer still awaits at the counter to be served, standing in bewilderment and tiredness. Waiting for the two bakers to finish bickering and sighing as they don’t seem like they’re going to stop anytime soon.

Soobin doesn’t expect to see you again, in complete honesty, he’s almost forgotten you even exist after you never come again. But he’s in luck and more than pleasantly surprised when he hears the bell to the door go ding!, indicating a customer had walked in. He looks up from the cake he was decorating and in comes you looking cuter than the first time he saw you. He tries not to mess up the cake and he stands up straight almost instantly when he sees you, waiting for you to order and trying to remain calm.

You laugh and point at his cute nose when you come up to the counter. “You have like, icing all on your nose.”

“O-oh. I do?” He points at himself and you nod in reply. He feels himself going redder by the minute. He must look so stupid right now! And he urgently brings his sleeve up and tries to wipe the icing off his nose to not make himself look an even more of a complete fool in front of you .

“Ah wait no. Let me do it!” You lean over the counter as you see him struggling and wipe it off the top of his cute bunny like nose instead for him.

And that was the end of soobin. The end.

-

You become a regular at the bakery and soobin becomes a regular of embarrassing the absolute shit out of himself each time he sees you. He really doesn’t think he can top the previous comedic disaster that occurs when you enter, yet he always proves himself wrong, the awkwardness reaching new heights each time. From dropping trays of pastries, spilling drinks, nearly slipping in front of you, giving you a ₩50000 note when it was only ₩5000 change, the list goes on and on. He’s actually surprised he hasn’t lost his job yet.

And there’s also always a disappointed beomgyu shaking his head afterwards ready to make fun of him when Soobin promises to make a move but freezes every time you’re in sight, too much of a pussy.

“I’m calling an intervention.” Beomgyu declares and sighs after the nth time of soobin making absolutely no moves on you whatsoever, “Soobin, my man, my bro, you desperately need to get banged. It’s painful seeing the way you act. Your little crush is not gonna like you with the way you act. That’s it. We’re going clubbing tonight after this shift. No buts.”

“But-”

“I said no buts!”

“You know I hate clubbing.”

“You’ve never even been with me despite my constant pleads.” Beomgyu shakes his head and makes a dramatic pained face at his way.

“So? I know I’ll hate it.”

“You’re such a hater bro.”

“Yes I am. And I take pride in it. I’m a hater of everything.”

Beomgyu just sighs. He was utterly hopeless.

Unfortunately, there was no way Soobin could get out of this because beomgyu was having absolutely none of his protests and excuses and that’s how he ends up finding himself at the club anyway after his shift, sitting off to the side as he watches beomgyu disappear somewhere into the crowd. Soobin sighs as he downs his jack and coke. This was going to be a long fucking night.

-

In the dimly lit club, soobin’s discomfort was palpable, like a fish out of water and you noticed instantly upon arrival. It’s that cute tall baker boy who always serves you! You excitedly make your way and sit next to him, he looked a little lonely. “Hey! You work at that bakery on campus. I go there!”

Soobin’s eyes nearly fall out of his sockets at the sight of you sitting next to him and he nearly chokes on his drink as he splutters on his straw and nods. Act calm, act calm, act calm, act calm. Act cool and mysterious.

It’s you! You’re speaking to him?!

“So…these things not really your scene, huh?”

“Gee. How did you ever notice?” Soobin attempts to smile and joke with dry humour but it executes a little more awkward and nervous than how he would have liked.

You also try to carry on the conversation since this is the first time you’ve got to ever actually talk to the cute boy before. “I’m very intuitive. I can just sense things like that.”

He laughs at that too, feeling a bit more comfortable around you now. “No but yeah, I’d much rather be at home right now sleeping. Can’t say I’m much of an advocate for getting stupidly drunk with sweaty people you don’t even know with terrible rave music and flashing lights that should have an epilepsy warning”

“I get it.” You chuckle at how passionate he gets talking about how much he hates clubbing, frown on his cute face. “So why are you here then?”

“Friend wanted me to. Said I needed to finally get laid or whatever.” Soobin rolls his eyes and sips on his drink again, motioning his head to the direction of beomgyu on the dance floor, clearly drunk off his ass now.

“Oh, you’re a Virgin?”

Soobin’s ears go red when he realises what he said to you. “O-oh um y-yeah I guess…”

“Are you waiting for like marriage or the right person or something?” You question, genuinely surprised. He was tall and very attractive and it was rare for college boys to not hook up every single night these days.

“God no. Just never happened. I don’t really care for things like that. It’s probably overhyped anyway and doesn’t even feel that good. Like porn is highly unrealistic anyway.”

“You think so?” You chuckle at him and he nods, continuing to cutely sip on his drink with his straw. “Well maybe you should to try it out first and see for yourself.” Your words start to become a little flirty as you grow more confident talking with him and also because of the alcohol making you slightly tipsy now. “Sorry, but do you want to get out of here?”

“Yes please.” Soobin’s eyes widen even more at your suggestion and he’s more than happy to get out of here with you especially.

“Umm your friend is a bit….out of it right now.” You watch beomgyu drunk from afar, whipping his long hair back and forth claiming to everyone around he’ll be able to do it fast enough to lift off his feet and fly like a helicopter.

“He’ll be…he’ll be fine I’m sure”

Soobin has no idea what good stuff he must have done in his past life to get to this moment right now, in your room, making out with you, in your bed. Did he mention making out? With you?! The customer he’s been crushing on for months?! Holy, he might hyperventilate right now. It all feels like a dream. Is this real right now?

You cup his cheek and move into his lap, continuing to move your lips against his and soobin’s ears and face are all flushed, breathing loud of enough for you to hear and he looks all nervous and a little shaky.

You stop kissing him but he chases after your lips still and you stroke his cheek, “Are you okay Soobin?”

He’s only able to nod, lips parted and eyes all glazed over. He’s so out of it just from making out with you it’s crazy. But so cute too.

“C-can you…can we…just want…”

“What do you want, baby?” You chuckle and stroke his cheek as he manages to utter some words. The petname only makes his head go even more haywire.

“W-want you…”

“What do you want me to do?” You giggle and coo at him.

He shyly shows you the boner he’s had this entire time. You can’t believe he got a boner just from some kissing. “Can you-will you touch me…please? Need it…” He pleads at you nervously, so red in the face.

“Are you sure?”

He nods his head exceptionally fast and you begin to unbuckle his jeans as he watches you take his flushed and hard dick out, breathing only becoming heavier. Damn, you didn’t think he’d be that big.

You take him into your hands and his mouth his already agape, gasping when you slowly start to stroke him.

You pump his big cock at a steady pace so as not to overwhelm him too much, though twisting and thumbing at the tip occasionally that has him drooling at the corner of his mouth and beads of precum dribbling out heavily from his cock. It’s endearing how far gone he is just at you stroking his dick slow, shy whimpers and other noises eliciting from his mouth.

You unbutton you shirt with your other hand as you continue to pump him and his eyes go crazed at the sight of your tits, you guiding his own big inexperienced hands to grope at them and he does, slumping his head into your neck and shoulder moaning into it and still groping and squeezing at your tits.

With a sudden yelp you feel Soobin’s cum spurt up and leak into your hands, his eyes rolling back as he whimpers continuously from his premature orgasm.

He doesn’t lift his head from your shoulder yet, too embarrassed to face you but he eventually does, eyes still half lidded, trying to catch his breath and he’s hard again. “W-will you fuck me? Please please please. Wanna feel it, wanna feel you, please?” He practically begs, still panting out.

“Are you really sure, Soobin? With me?”

“Yes please! Only want you.”

You study his face for any hesitancy but it’s clear he’s so set on wanting you to fuck him. So you wrap your hands around both his wrists and bring him to lay down on your pillows instead, you still straddling his lap.

When you’ve undressed your lower half, you bring his dick and slide it over your entrance a few times, he moans out loud, hands coming up shyly to cover his face and then you sink down incredibly slowly on his massive length . Soobin’s jaw drops and breath hitches at the feeling of his dick finally in your warm pussy, a strangled moan ripping out of him. He could seriously cum just from being in you right now, but he tries so hard not to or you’ll be disappointed and he doesn’t want to see you disappointed or embarrass himself even more.

“You good, baby?”

“M’ f-fine. Just-Just need a minute.” Soobin shakes out.

You take his hands away from his face and lean down to softly kiss him instead, trying to calm him down and he effuses into your mouth, kissing back passionately with his eyes closed.

“I’m ready now…” He pulls away after a while and looks you in the eyes.

So you start to slowly move, riding him, going up and down on his virgin dick. Soobin’s mouth hangs open in endless moans and gasps and whimpers, face buried into your pillow to the side and his hair all messy now. Whole body flushed and shaking underneath you.

“Better than you thought, baby?” You grunt out, bouncing on top of his cock.

“So much better. O-oh my god, f-fuck…ah!” So maybe sex wasn’t overhyped after all. Because goddamn, you feel so fucking good. Maybe it was just you. But Soobin truly feels like he’s gliding on fluffy clouds right now. All the times he’s touched himself not even coming close to how he feels right now stuffed in your pussy as you fuck him, watching mesmerised as your tits bounce with each movement. He could die here right now in full contentment. Oh how he was so wrong.

It’s not long at all before Soobin can’t hold it anymore. His hips bucking up and breath hitching as a loud strangled mewl tumbles out of his mouth and you feel hot cum fill you up suddenly that makes you still your movements on him. He lets out a long slurred groan and then goes limp beneath you, eyes closing shut and open as he fades from conscious to not every now and then. Is he really that fucked out?

After a while, he finally somewhat recovers and comes back to you from his high, still panting out and chest rising up and down. He looks up at you with a small shy smile on his lips, arm thrown over his forehead.

“You know I literally only go to the bakery because of how cute and silly you are and how you always make a mess of yourself whenever I walk in” You chuckle and admit, drawing shapes into his chest.

“W-wait you knew I liked you?” Soobin asks, shocked and feeling embarrassed again.

You laugh, “Come on, you made it rather obvious.”

Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys 😭 if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s incredibly discouraging and irriating when fics have such little reblogs ☹️. At least send an anon in the inbox if you don’t want to rb, don’t just like. Feedback is always appreciated it make writers want to actually write :)

A/n: having serious writers block rn but forced myself to write this in practically one sitting (it was so painful) and has not been proof read at all so if it makes no sense I apologise 😭

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Fifteen Weeks

Din Djarin x Cam Girl Reader AU

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI)  Summary: It's been fifteen weeks since Din Djarin first entered your life, now you can't imagine it without him. You take a leap of faith in your relationship and visit him at his farm. Warnings: Smut, loss of virginity, face sitting, premature ejaculation, unprotected p in v sex (reader is tested and has an IUD, protect yourselves IRL), mentions of sex work, anxiety, Din is bad at feelings, farmhouse emotions, goats!, yes I made Din Djarin a schnauzer owner don't judge me. Words: 5,050

A/N: Here it is folks, the follow up to Fifteen Minutes, which I originally wrote as a standalone. Thank you to @goodwithcheese for speaking so highly about Fifteen Minutes thus making me revisit this draft and finally finish it. I also want to thank @frannyzooey for taking a look at the bare bones of this months ago. I really love these two and I’m so glad they finally get to eat soup together.

Masterlist

___

“So, where ya’ headed?” the Uber driver asks, turning toward the departures terminal.

“Just to see a... friend."

“Hm. Must be a special friend to catch a flight this early.” 

“I guess he is,” you smile through a yawn.

___

Waiting to board. Can’t wait to finally see you! xxxx🙂

Hitting the send button, you shake your head still finding it hard to believe you’re traveling almost halfway across the country to meet a man. A man you’ve fallen head over heels for.

Can’t wait to see you too. See you soon.

His response arrives just in time. A nervous rush of excitement courses through your body before turning your phone off for departure. 

You wonder if your seatmate can feel your leg shake as the nerves tap out against the plane floor. Sure, you’re excited, you’re ready to meet Din in person but there still is trepidation twisting inside of you. You’ve never done anything like this at all. You’ve never met a client and now you’re on a plane headed to one. You’ve known him for only four months, but the connection the two of you share is something you’ve never believed to be something you’d find. You’ve dealt with enough men wearing wedding bands who tell you they love you, that you’re the most beautiful woman they’ve seen, that you’re their whole world. Love is a ridiculous concept when you charge ten dollars a minute. 

With Din, it’s different, it’s something that can be named, can be felt, can be solved, and yet so many questions about it remain. What do you call the quiet silence that exists between the two of you, happy to be on the phone keeping each other company every night? The small laugh and head shake he does whenever you tell him he’s cute? The random texts of his life that always brightens your day? The way he nods with zero judgment when he hears the ding of your new client alert? What do you call the decision that got you here on this plane? 

You read the same page over and over in your book. Will you sleep in his bed tonight? 

You give up on reading and stare forward at the little map on the seat screen. What does he smell like?

You look out the window and watch the clouds disintegrate around you. Is he just as nervous as you?

You turn the volume up and try to drown out your racing thoughts. Will this all be worth it?

Two hours left to find out. 

___

You step off the escalator, eyes scanning the crowded baggage claim area for the reason why you’ve taken a six hour flight halfway across the country. Your hands grip the backpack strap tighter trying to calm the nerves overtaking your heart and brain.

There, right there, leaning against a column alone in the shadows is Din and the brown eyes you’ve only dreamt of seeing in real life. He straightens when you make eye contact, but makes zero attempt to move, still frozen against the column. You lose the fight to hide your smile and excitement hurriedly shuffling over to him, he smiles as you get closer, the same shy half grin he gives when he says good night. His hands slip out of his pockets as you approach. Goodness, he’s so big and handsome, he could be a heartbreaker of all sorts to anybody he sets his sights on. The phone doesn’t do his beauty any justice.

“Hi,” you smile.

“H-hey, I can’t believe you’re… here,” his voice sounds even smoother and deeper in person.

“I am,” you shuffle on your feet. Hug me, kiss me, let me hug you, let me kiss you.

He tucks his hands back into his hoodie pocket, his silent rejection shoots a pang of longing through you. 

You thought it’d play out like a grand romantic movie, you’d jump into his outstretched arms and he’d never let go. Din’s rejection fills you with jealousy… screw all of the happy couples. You hate those movies now.

Touch me.

Of course he’s nervous, you’re nervous too, you’re just better at hiding it. He still leans against the column, shielded by the liminal space.

“Do you have luggage?” He’s right in front of you and yet you’re too scared to touch him, too anxious you’ll scare him away. 

“Nope, just my backpack and carry-on.” 

Hug me, kiss me, let me hug you, let me kiss you.

“Oh, okay, did you want to leave then?”

“I didn’t come here to see the airport Din,” you place a hand on his hoodie clad arm. He looks down and stares. 

Did you overstep? You couldn’t have, you just watched this same man orgasm for you last night while chanting how he couldn’t wait to paint you with his cum. 

“Din,” you snap him out of his stare, “come on, I’m ready to leave.” 

You know he’s not trying to reject you, but his nervous aloofness is overwhelming when all you want is for him to touch you… just once. 

“I—uh, here, let me take your bags,” he mumbles, reaching past you to grab your suitcase. “It’s really cold, do you have a heavier jacket?” 

“No, but I’ll be okay,” you reassure. The cold won’t sting nearly as much as Din’s seemingly innocent rejection.  

“Here,” he pulls the collar of his hoodie over his head. “I’m used to this cold. You aren’t.” 

You take the bundle of black fabric from his outstretched hand, not realizing just how cold you were until you put the hoodie warmed by his body heat on. It smells of him. Faint hints of campfire, wood, leather, citrus, and cinnamon. You wish you were wrapped up in Din himself, touching him, smelling him, tasting him. Hug me, kiss me, let me hug you, let me kiss you.

“Thank you,” you whisper. Whatever is happening inside of him seems to be bleeding over into your mind. You’re now second guessing every decision to come here. He was excited last night, he texted you this morning how he couldn’t wait to see you, is he disappointed? 

“Yeah, of course,” he nods and turns towards the door, walking away in quick strides leaving you alone in the dark corner near that damn column he’d rather touch than you. He has your suitcase and backpack, so either this is a really expensive way to get robbed or he has zero clue how his actions are affecting you. 

He turns back to you as he reaches the automatic doors, his eyes wide with guilt when he spots you still standing in the same place he left you. Well, at least he feels bad. 

You let a deep breath out to steel yourself and walk to him.

“I-I’m sorry, just not used to ever having to… you know…”

“I know, it’s okay Din,” you gently smile. What in the world have you gotten yourself into?

“I’m just—“

“Nervous. I know Din, it’s okay. I understand this is a lot.”

“It is, but just… know that how I’m acting is not how I’m feeling. I’m really happy to have you here. You’re so… beautiful and I—thank you for being here with me.”

There it is. Everything is worth it now. The early morning Uber to the airport, the neverending TSA line, the cramped airplane seat, the nervousness you feel. You’d do it all again to hear that sentence. 

“Of course, I know. You’re okay,” you take his hand. If he’s not going to do it, you’ll do it. “Come on, let’s go.” 

His eyes stay downcast staring at your hand wrapped around his.

You clear your throat to get his attention, his eyes snap up to yours. “Din, let’s go.”

“R-right. Of course. Right.” 

He leads you out the door, gripping your hand harder when the bitter wind lashes against your skin. 

The two of you weave your way through the parking lot until you reach a large silver truck. It’s clean with a few dents and scratches. Well taken care of but old. 

Din opens the creaky door and helps you step up. The black leather seat is smooth as you slide across it.

Din places your luggage in the back before opening his door and deftly stepping in. 

You hide a deep exhale when he starts the engine.

He clears his throat and you look over. “It’s–uh nice to see you in here.”

“I’m glad,” you smile, turning and reaching your hand out to touch his cheek. Your thumb finds the little heart patch on the side of his face, you’ve been thinking about how it’d feel since you first saw it. You can’t help yourself, he looks so delicate, as if he’s aching to be touched but too scared to ask for it. You’re holding a scared fawn in your hands. Don’t scare him, don’t move too quickly, let him figure things out on his own. 

His lips part as he inhales, deep brown eyes staring into yours, the nervousness radiating off his skin fills the truck cabin. You wish you could just throw caution to the wind and force him to tell you exactly how he’s feeling, to slide across the bench seat and beg him to take you right here in this airport parking lot. You don’t. You pull your hand away and put your seatbelt on.

“I can’t wait to see your home. I’ve never been to an actual farm before.”

___

You’ve seen glimpses of Din’s home in random pictures he’s texted you or your nightly FaceTime sessions, but you never imagined just how picturesque it could be. A large white two story farmhouse situated in the middle of a vast expanse of green grass, a small tin roofed barn sits to the side with a herd of goats happily grazing. Din’s life must be so peaceful here, very different compared to your townhouse in the middle of suburbia.

“It’s beautiful,” you muse as he pulls into the driveway. “I can understand why you never wanted to leave.” 

The truck stops in front of his home, a german shepherd and a little schnauzer run down the porch steps and head for Din’s truck.

“They’ll be fine with you, but let me get out so I can control them.” 

Din gets out of the truck, you chuckle to yourself as his clipped directions to the dogs are drowned out by excited barks. 

He opens your door and reaches his hand out.

“Grogu! Boba! Back!” Din shouts as he helps you step down. His raised voice makes your heart skip a beat. You didn’t know he could ever be this loud.

“It’s okay, I like your dogs, you know I think they’re cute,” you bend down and tap on your knees to beckon them over. “This must be Grogu,” you scratch his soft ears. “He does have big ears.”

“They’re not that used to other people.”

“Hmm,” you stand up and pat the top of Boba’s head, “sounds like someone I know.”

He chuckles as he walks up the porch steps and unlocks the front door. 

Warmth fills your body as you walk over the threshold. White walls, worn floorboards, antique furniture, all of it taken care of and clean. Tidy and well kept up, a lot like his truck, aged but in better shape and made to last; a far change from your newbuild townhouse and IKEA furniture. 

“Diiin,” you breathe, “it’s beautiful in here. Like… I knew you lived in a nice house, but wow, between this and the farm… when do you sleep?”

“I sleep enough. I’ll go get your bags, make yourself… at home.”

You take a seat on his couch, it’s perfect for him. Beige, simple lines, nothing fancy, not too comfortable, but probably the height of cozy after a long day working on a farm. Grogu jumps up and sits next to you, his little bearded face panting happily next to yours. You scratch his chest and praise him as he inches closer towards you. Boba stays near the entry, waiting for Din.

“Think he likes you,” Din says as he places your bags by the steps. “Don’t take Boba’s standoffishness personally he’s–”

“Like you. I know,” you smile.

“Did– what would you like to do?”

“Can I see the computer where you first talked to me?”

“Um, yeah,” he walks down the hallway leaving you behind yet again, “it’s just in here.”

You shake your head and rise off the couch to follow, obviously he’s not used to company.

You walk into a small office, everything has a place, efficient and tidy, perfectly Din. Paperwork stacked in neat stacks, a calendar with his sharp writing all over it hung on the wall, today’s date circled with your name written in the box. 

A black monitor sits on a mahogany desk. 

“This is the computer, huh?” you ask, running your hands across the black keyboard,

“It is.”

“So this is where it all began? You sat there, clicked on my picture, and now look. I remember when I first heard your voice,” you face him taking both of his hands in yours, “it was so deep and warm, it lit something inside of me.”

You guide his arms to wrap around you, his hands rest on your lower back.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you after our first session ended. There was something so pure and mysterious about you, I knew you weren’t lying about wanting to know. It wasn’t some kink you had, I knew you needed help. I felt lucky to be the one to show you.” 

He sighs as you rest your head against his chest hearing the rhythm of his heart. “I closed that window so many times before finally agreeing and joining. I-I kept on thinking about how I could talk to someone as beautiful as you, all it would take is just a click. You were so pretty.” 

“Just a click,” you whisper, craning your neck up as Din lowers his head. His nose bumps against yours, his plush bottom lip is captured between your lips, another part of him you’ve wanted to touch since you first saw him. You finally kiss him, sweet and tender, his lips molding to yours perfectly. He pulls you in closer, his tongue hesitantly dipping into your mouth as you lick against him. The past fifteen weeks have finally led to this moment inside of this old farmhouse office in the middle of nowhere. Your Din and his soft lips, tense hands against your back, your soft coos mingling with his low groans, you could stay in this moment forever, if it wasn’t for Din’s phone beeping in his pocket. 

“I’m sorry,” he pulls away, a bashful smile adorns his face, “I need to go take care of the goats before sundown.”

“Of course.” 

He hugs you, planting a soft kiss against your forehead and inhaling your scent before leaving. He’s warming up…

___

Din loves soup. You know this by the nights you spend with him over the phone. The man eats soup almost every single night. Soup with bread, soup and a baked potato, soup and steak, soup, soup, soup. 

You can’t blame him, the stew and homemade rolls he serves you for dinner are delicious. He shyly tells you it’s his speciality when he places the porcelain bowl in front of you. 

You could get used to the farm life. A fire burns in the fireplace while the tv plays Din’s favorite movie he’s been wanting to show you, some film about a galaxy far far away and an unlikely hero. The man loves space. 

His arm slung across your shoulder lies heavily on you, warming you inside and out. Grogu sleeps on your lap, softly snoring as you pet his gray fur. Din occasionally sneaks a kiss against your hair, you don’t know if you’ve ever been more comfortable in your life. 

The movie ends, a grand symphonic score plays over the credits. 

“That was really good,” you smile towards Din. “I liked it.”

A grin slowly stretches across his face. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, thank you for showing me it.”

“You’re welcome,” he gazes at you, the same look he smolders through the phone, like he can’t believe his luck that you’re talking to him. 

You attempt to fight a yawn and lose. Your eyes blink tiredly at Din when he reaches and rubs his thumb against your cheek. 

“Did you want to,” he clears his throat, “sleep in my room with me tonight?”

“Only if you want me to Din.”

“I, uh, I do.”

“Okay, I’d like that.”

___

The airplane and long day washes off and rinses down Din’s shower drain. You use his washcloth and think of his hands touching you. You smell his soap and think of inhaling the scent as he holds you close. You don’t know what’s about to happen once you leave this room. If you’re this nervous, how does he feel? 

Din looks up from the book he’s reading and watches you step out of the bathroom shyly padding over and getting into bed.

“What are you reading?” you whisper.

“Some book about a cowboy warrior in space…”

“Sounds interesting.”

“It’s good.”

“You know,” you look around the simple bedroom, “I see this room all the time, but only the wall behind your bed, hardly anything else. It’s been really nice seeing more of your life.”

He nods, blinking back to his book. 

The night can’t end like this. 

You grab the book from his hands and place it on the table.

“What are you thinking about Din? I never know what’s going on inside of you.”

“H-how pretty you look wearing that.” 

You look down at the pink silk tank top and shorts and swallow down a smile. You specifically wore it because you know how Din’s eyes light up whenever you put it on. “It’s my favorite because it’s so soft. Do you want to feel it?” 

He turns to you wide-eyed and gives you a solitary nod. 

“Go ahead Din.”

His tan hand splays across your stomach, golden toned skin rests against the blushy silk of your tank.

“S’soft,” he murmurs to himself.

“Here,” you place your hand over his and press down, “really feel it.”

His eyes angle down watching your hand navigate his around your stomach to just below your breasts. His mouth sits slightly agape, thick brows furrowing in concentration as you slip his hand underneath the fabric, his trembling calloused fingers making contact with your skin. 

“Am I soft here Din?”

“Y-Yes,” he stammers. 

“Touch me, as little or as much as you want. Wherever you’re comfortable doing, okay?” you remove your hand from his. “I came here for you… whatever you want… I want..”

“I want to,” he gulps, “I want to touch you all over.”

“I’m all yours baby.” 

His shoulders deflate with a groan, he trails his hand higher to cup one of your breasts. The tips of his fingers peek out of the top of your tank. Tan, well worked strong hands lay against your smooth skin. The sight makes you moan, your teeth gnawing at your lip, trying to qualm the temptation to touch him further. 

“Take it off Din.” His dark brown eyes beam up to yours. “Go ahead baby.” 

He grabs the hem of your tank top, softly bundling it in his hands and lifting it over your head leaving you bare chested. 

“Kiss me and touch me baby,” you gently will. 

His lips form over yours, his hands return to your skin, petting and caressing your breasts before you cover them, pushing them farther down your stomach. His breaths quicken against your mouth when you slip his hands underneath the band of your shorts. 

“Fuck,” he pants against your lips when his hand meets the wetness seeping from your pussy. “Fuuuuuck.” 

“You feel me baby? That’s how wet you always make me, ever since the first time we talked and all you were was a black square with a sexy voice. It’s like we were destined in the stars.” 

“God damnit, you’re so soft,” Din’s hips buck into the air, his head thuds against the headboard when his thick finger slips in between your folds. “I-I-I oh god, I’m– I think I’m going to cum. I’m sorr–” 

“It’s okay baby, I’m here, cum for me.” Your hand reaches down and grips his hard cock through his black sweatpants. “Cum for me Din.” 

You feel a warm wet spot spread against your hand, pulling a moan from you.. 

“I’m--agh– sorry,” his big eyes stare at you, a hint of shame rounds them. “You feel so amazing.” He pulls his hand out of your shorts.

“No,” you whimper at the loss of contact. “I like it baby, I like that you like me so much that happened. Please don't apologize. Keep touching me if you want to. Do you?” 

“God,” his eyes shrink in determination, “yes I do.” 

“Okay baby.”

You sit in between his stretched out legs, lifting your hips to take off your shorts, spreading your legs wide, much the same way you do for your clients. 

He stares at your exposed skin, eyes mapping every dip, curve and dimple of your body. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. “I can’t believe you’re here… for me.”

“Of course I am baby.” 

His fingers trace the plains of your legs, moving their way up to your thighs. His face set in a determinative scowl, eyes fixated on your core as he inches closer to it, now aching and soaked for him. 

“I-I’ve never done this.”

“I know baby, you remember our first call?” 

He nods.

“Remember what I told you what I liked?”

Another nod.

“Do that for me baby, touch me. Make me feel good.” A thick finger meets your lips, tracing a line up from your entrance to your clit before softly rubbing a circle around your sensitive nub. He remembered.

“You’re so wet for me,” he breathes out, his eyes staying planted staring at your pussy beguiled by his own actions.

“I am Din, only for you. I think about you every time. I-I,” you moan when he sticks a finger inside, slowly pumping it in and out, “I only want you.” 

“Only want you too, baby. C-can I taste you?”

“Ye–oh my god, yes Din, I’m yours, do whatever you want to me.” 

“I’m yours, anything you wa–”

“Sit on my face,” he growls. 

“O-of course.” 

You crawl towards him, leaving a chaste kiss on his lips before straddling his face, your dripping cunt hovers right over his mouth. He grips your ass and pulls you down, smothering himself with all of your slickness. You cover him like a mask, he worships your taste like a religion, moaning and groaning into your sweet pussy. Your praises about how good he’s doing and how amazing you feel incant out of your mouth as he takes you to paradise. Plush lips suck and savor you, your hands grip the bed frame like a precious artifact, his devotion to you and your pleasure pulls a melting orgasm from you. 

“Din, Din, Din,” you pray at his altar, knees bowed and quaking against his ears as he drinks your offering down. You’re shattered, everything you’ve ever believed in replaced by Din and his idolatry of you. 

You move your lust drunk body off and lay down next to Din. His face shines with a gloss of you, his tongue peeks out and licks his lips, before sending you a shy smile.

“You’re amazing,” he incredulously mutters. 

“You are too,” a doting grin lights your face before pulling him in for a kiss. You can taste yourself on him, a moan leaves your throat at the realization. 

Strong arms envelop you, pulling you closer to him, his hard cock juts against the soft skin of your thigh. 

“Already?” you pull back and tease. 

“C-can I feel you?” 

“Feel me?” 

“Yes, c-can I… can we….?”

A rush of anticipation thrums through your body at the implication of his nervousness.

“Yes Din, we can. Are you sure this is what you want tonight? We can wait.”

“N-no. I want you, I-I want this,” he moves his sweatpants down, kicking them off. 

“Okay baby, okay,” you kiss him, grabbing his face, petting the soft hair of his sparse beard.

He rolls on top of you, cradling your head between his strong forearms, a heated kiss licks into your mouth as his naked weight covers you. Your legs open in a silent offer for Din to take everything you have. You can just feel the heft of his cock ghosting against your entrance. 

He looks down at you, brown eyes wide, plush mouth parted, brows softened with adoration. 

You send him a silent nod and smile when his cock enters you, feeling a sense of honor that you’re the one Din has chosen for this. You wouldn’t have it any other way. The green accept button, the reserved man dressed in all black, the deep voice, the connection between two screens. Now, you’re here with Din, moaning and rolling your hips to accept the length of him.

His neck strains when he sheathes his cock fully inside of you, panting and groaning as he slowly rocks back and forth.

“You … feel … like … heaven… I love your pussy… I love your body…. I… love you.”

He freezes at the divulgence, body locked in shock at his slip. 

Your face lifts in a reassuring grin. “I love you too,” your hand grabs his chin, bringing his lips to yours. 

You love him, you’ve known it for so long, but here in this farmhouse bed you can hear it, you can feel it. 

Your bodies meld, hips meeting, lips locked, he gives you everything, you give him everything. Your pussy clenches around his slow, full strokes. This is making love. 

“Baby, I-I.. I’m going t–” he strains. 

“Go ahead Din, I got you.” Your hands trail up and down the expanse of his smooth back. He grunts, burying his head into the crook of your neck, fevered breaths hit your skin as his cum fills you.

He rolls off, pulling you to his side and kissing the top of your hair. 

“Wow… I.. are you okay?”

“What?” your head perks up.

“You didn’t… uh–”

“I did when you fucked me with your tongue Din, I’m very happy and satisfied.” 

“Oh, I just… I want to make sure you’re good.”

“Baby, I am very good. Trust me.” 

“I love you,” he breathes.

“I love you too Din…” you rest your head against his chest, the exhaustion of the day settling in, quickly lulling you to sleep. This is the way to go to bed.

___

The faint sound of running water gently rouses you from the most peaceful slumber you’ve had. The sun has barely peaked over the horizon, the room’s still shrouded in a lazy darkness. 

Din’s long sigh echoes against the tiles of the shower like a siren song. 

You pad out of bed toward the bathroom, pushing the door wide open. 

Your mouth drops at the sight ahead of you… Din’s muscular, toned golden body shines underneath a glistening sheen of water. He runs a gray wash rag across his stomach, the mop of dark, curly hair right underneath his hand beckons you to look farther down. You’ve seen him so many times before, almost every night, but this is the first time you’ve been able to see all of him in person. Din is a big man, his cock matches his stature. Just as long, just as broad, just as golden. God, he’s gorgeous. 

You knock on the doorframe catching his attention, surprise tensing across his whole body. 

“Good morning,” you purr, “can I join you?”

He nods, his cock grows visibly hard when you walk over and get in. The warm steam, Din’s naked body, and the smell of Din’s cedar body wash engulfs you, this is the way to wake up. 

“Mmm, the hot water feels good,” you sigh, leaning your head against his chest. Din’s cock rests heavily in between you, tempting you to touch it. “Want me to wash you?”

He groans a yes. 

“You can wash me too,” you propose, squeezing a dollop of body wash onto your palm, running it across your chest before leaving suds on your hands. “Go ahead Din.”

Drops of water land against your skin as his trembling hands slowly reach for your breasts. He massages and kneads, both palms laying against your tits, his touch turns more searing when your hands land on his chest, rubbing in the soap along the dusting of hair stretched across his broad body. 

Your nipples pebble under his nervous, firm touch and undivided attention. He hisses when your hands slink farther down, running across the damp curls of his happy trail leading you to his cock standing between his thighs, thick and dripping. You wrap a fist around his length, his knees weaken causing his body to smash against the wall, his face grimacing in pleasured agony.

“Fuck,” he pants, water rains down into his wide open mouth, splashing out with every exclamation of your name he repeats as he cums all over your stomach. 

Your tongue runs up the column of his neck to his mouth, swallowing his rapid breaths. 

“You feel so good against me,” he gasps against your lips. “I can’t believe you’re here.” 

“I am baby, I am,” you coo, wrapping your arms around him, wishing you could live in this tiny shower forever. This is the way to wake up.

___

Din settles on the porch swing next to you, pulling your blanket wrapped body close to him. 

“Is this what you do every morning?” 

“Just about,” he says before taking a drink of his coffee. 

“It’s nice,” you yawn, “early but nice.” 

He chuckles, “You get used to it.” “Mm,” you rest your head on his chest, smelling the fresh dew and hay on his flannel jacket. 

“I really like you being here,” he softly says.

“I really like being here too.”

“You know,” he gulps, “you can do your job here… with me.”

___

A/N: Thank you for reading! This ending makes me feel:

[thriftedtchotchkes]

a matter of time

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel can't remember the last time he took things slow and let himself feel. you give him a gentle reminder.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, late boston qz era, joel's pov, smut, porn with a twist ending, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, slow/intimate sex, finger sucking, premature ejaculation, nostalgia, internal monologue, tess doesn't exist

word count: 2.4k

It's been a long time.

Joel's all but forgotten what it feels like when it's this gentle. There's almost a tenderness to it, even though he doesn't know much of anything about you at all. Not your name or how you ended up here in this hellhole of a safe haven.

Nothing but the sweet, tacky taste of your 20-year-old Lip Smacker gloss and the tang of sweat and something sweeter lingering on your skin. But he's learning.

And he likes this new knowledge. Even if he never gets the chance to use it again, he'll devour it hungrily because it's a worthy distraction from the monotony of life in a quarantine zone. Day in and day out, he returns to this shitty apartment with its peeling floral wallpaper and rotting mahogany furniture—memories of a distant past that aren't his own and, yet, sting just as viscerally.

Tonight, the space hums with a different energy. Highlighted by the soft rays of the setting sun, the room's only purpose is to serve as a backdrop to you, and that alone changes everything. Your beauty, your responsiveness, as he lays you across his moth-eaten duvet is reminiscent of a different time, and he'll happily accept that reminder.

It's one of the few pieces of nostalgia that doesn't ache or eat away at him the longer he lets it in. No, you feel good. You're warm against his fingertips, soft and pliant under the path his lips follow from the sticky smear across your cheek, past the breath hitching audibly in your bared throat, down to your soaked, coarse curls.

You want him. More than that, you want to take your time with him, and he's surprised at how much he wants that, too. Trapped within these walls, what else does he have but endless, empty time? And there's nothing he'd love more than to spend it taking care of you, just like you asked him to.

He hovers above you, refusing to part his lips from your body as he urges you up the bed to rest against his pillows. They're flattened and scratchy from years of use and abuse, but they smell like him, and you like it. He can tell. The moment your hair fans across them, rich and lively in contrast, you bury your face into the fabric to breathe him in, and your body's reaction is instantaneous.

Your back arches with a heavy sigh of contentment and your legs fall apart naturally, welcoming him closer, but he waits. Reverently, he slowly leans back onto his heels to appreciate the sight in front of him, and he can't help but feel grateful. You're already glistening for him, preening under his undivided attention as your delicate fingers trail up to your breast to tweak a nipple.

As your eyelashes flutter and a gasp escapes your parted lips, his hand quickly drops to squeeze his twitching cock over his boxers and he keens, nearly doubling over at the pleasure that overcomes him. A coy, knowing smile quirks at the corners of your mouth, and he decides he needs to taste you again. Now.

He lurches forward, and you let out a surprised squeal as he licks into your mouth and commits to memory the faint taste of artificial root beer and mint on your tongue. The familiar fight for dominance he's so used to after years of quick fucks and one-night stands isn't there, and, instead, you set a languid, passionate pace that makes his head spin. It's a slow, deep caress—wet and warm and all-encompassing—and it's everything he hopes fucking you will feel like.

He's so hard it hurts. God, when was the last time he was this fucking hard? He's leaking messily through his boxers, desperate to be touched and enveloped and claimed.

And how could he not be? He's kissing the perfect woman. A patient goddess who's leading his hands across every inch of bare skin, showing him exactly how you like to be stroked and gripped, sighing encouragingly when he heeds your lessons just right.

You're one hell of a teacher, and he thinks he might just be your favorite student. He separates from you with a lewd smack and a string of saliva keeps you connected for a fleeting second before you lean up to lick it off his bottom lip. Your eyes lock with his and they're dark, almost completely consumed by desire, and it's further encouragement to continue on to his next assignment.

This one might just send him over the edge. You guide his hand down to cup your wet heat and you're drenched, dribbling and smearing slick patterns onto his sheets that he'll probably trace with his tongue while he jerks off to the thought of you long after you're gone.

Bathed in the dwindling embers of twilight, your silhouette—the plush slope of your breasts and soft curve of your belly and thighs—is cast around the room in artful shapes and shadows, and he wishes you were a permanent fixture. That your visage covered these walls instead of false depictions of growth and life. It's a dangerous train of thought, but he's too lost in the haze of your warmth and wetness to think about anything else.

He needs to feel you. He needs to fuck you.

He barely even realizes he's already slipped inside you as if he's been there all along, stroking your walls with the rough tips of his middle and ring fingers and honing in on that hidden, spongy spot with such precision, you'd think he'd done it a million times before. Thick, cording veins strain against his forearms as he tenses with the effort of keeping his thrusts long and purposeful, and he watches, captivated, as your cunt sucks him in greedily and fruitlessly tries to hold him inside you.

Tight—fuck. You're so tight. He's bucking into his unoccupied hand, jerking himself off over his boxers, and he doesn't remember when he started, but he can't stop. It feels too good...you feel too good, and the steady, simultaneous rhythm he sets for both of you isn't nearly enough.

Faster. Harder. Still so goddamn tight. He'll never be able to stretch you out enough to take him, and he's starting to worry he'll cum before he even gets the chance to try. His cock throbs violently against his palm, and he bites back a groan at the vision beneath him. Christ, how did you get here?

You can't possibly be real. Your thighs are quaking on either side of his waist and your pussy clenches dangerously hard around his scissoring fingers. There's a thin sheen of sweat matting the wispy hairs around your temples and pooling everywhere your body connects with the mattress, your searingly hot skin an addictive, sticky trap he willingly and faithfully succumbed to.

And those sounds.

You need his cock. Fucking hell, you need it. Greedy, patient, needy fucking woman. He can hear it in your soft pants and hitched breaths. You're quiet and subtle in your pleasure, so unlike any other woman he's ever been with, but when you whimper—fuck. Fuck.

He's going to give it to you. Right now, after taking the time to map and explore and discover, he's going to use his newfound knowledge to hollow you out, then fill you up until you're overflowing with him.

He slows to a stop and pulls his glistening fingers from your cunt, and there's that faint, perfect sound again. A stuttered, broken whimper that lilts with each knuckle that catches on your entrance. He sucks his ring finger into his mouth and adds your taste to his list of all-time favorites, right alongside your Barq's root beer-flavored lip gloss.

Then, he offers you his middle finger, and he swears he can feel your lips sealing tightly around his cock as you wrap them around it. You work your mouth up and down, bobbing your head eagerly like he's about to blow his load down your throat, and—

He's going to fucking cum.

With his finger still nestled between your lips, he wrenches his boxers down his thighs and lines himself up with your entrance, ignoring how close he's suddenly teetering on the edge. His balls are already taut between his legs and it worsens as he inches in his aching, neglected tip.

"S'time, beautiful," he grits out, still tender in his touch as he splays his hand across your waist to stroke your heated skin. "You ready for me?"

You nod quickly, humming your affirmation around him, and he gives you another shallow inch. He was right. No amount of preparation was going to ease the stretch. You're gripping him so hard, it almost hurts, and the thought of how tight you'll be when you cum—he feels delirious with it.

Yes. Yes. Squeeze him. Let him feel you wringing him fucking dry. Let him pump you so full of his release, you'll be dripping him for days, an intimate, lingering reminder of this night. You have no fucking idea how long he's been waiting for this, for you. He doesn't even know your name, but that doesn't matter. Right now, all that matters is this.

This deep-seated, unspoken connection. It's been a long time. And, right now, his time is up.

He slides home in one long, deep thrust, the tip of his cock tenderly nudging your cervix, and your body struggles to accept him. He lights up every nerve ending like a live wire, drags against every sensitive pressure point in perfect succession, and your walls begin to mold around him as if they recognize the sensation. Like your body's remembering him.

Sharp nails dig into his side and drag from his shoulder down to his ass, urging him closer. You're trembling beneath him, your breasts thrumming with sharp, rapid breaths akin to a hummingbird as he fucks you further up the bed, one slow thrust at a time. You're fluttering around him, a delicate spasm and, then, an indicative clench, and it forces a sob from his chest that he barely recognizes.

That's it, beautiful. It's right there. C’mon, give it to me.

He doesn't speak it aloud. He hasn't coaxed or rushed you with his words this entire night and he's not about to start now. He knows, for some inexplicable reason, that he doesn't have to.

But you do. It's barely a whisper—a single, hushed syllable that trembles and passes your lips like a plea. A prayer only he can answer.

"Joel."

Christ. He knows you.

Christ, he's cumming.

His vision whites out, and he's only vaguely aware of his tightening grip on your hips and the long, drawn-out groan that tapers into something devastatingly familiar. Your name.

Now, it's his turn to pray. He repeats it like a mantra, breathing it into your lungs as his lips crash onto yours. It's almost as if he's afraid he'll forget it again if he stops, but your body's response quickly convinces him otherwise.

You bear down on him harder, driven closer and closer to your peak each time he calls out to you, for you. You're molten hot around him, searing each letter into his skin with every pulsing clench of your cunt, and he does the same, thick spurts coating your walls.

He can't help himself. He stays deep—he knows he shouldn't, knows how dangerous the consequences could be, but he needs to—and your ankles digging painfully into his back to hold him in place wordlessly tell him you need it, too.

So good, you're so good. You're perfect. You're his. You're—

Gushing, squeezing, finally moaning for him. You’re cumming.

With it, your orgasm brings every memory of you flooding back at once. Late summer afternoons spent in bed while Sarah visited her grandma. Champagne-flavored kisses on New Year's Eve, soundtracked by Dick Clark and cheers from the crowd in Times Square filtering through the plasma TV in his living room.

He loved you. He loved this. He should've known the moment he kissed you, the moment he saw you, but he's been surviving for so long. He can't remember the last time he lived.

Your limbs surround him, pulling his entire weight down to rest on top of you, and you continue to swivel your hips into his pelvis, riding out your high as his name falls breathily from your lips. He works you through it, frantically blinking away the sudden blur that engulfs his vision so he doesn't miss out on another moment with you. Not ever again.

He's...he's crying. He didn't even know he was capable of that anymore. Sensitivity starts to set in, in more ways than one, but he doesn't want to leave the heat of your embrace. He thinks he might break at the sight of his cum leaking out of you and seeping into the undeserving fabric of his co-opted sheets, far away from where it belongs.

But, then, your lips meet his tanned, weathered cheek—a stark contrast to the young man he was when he was yours—and you kiss away his tears. He feels more fragile than he has in decades, and that's surprisingly okay. Because you're here to protect him, now.

Trailing from the apple of his cheek to his lips, up to the years of tension creasing his forehead, back down to kiss him tenderly, you establish a comforting repetition. He chases you every time you part, but, after a while, he's struck with a realization. What you've been trying to convey with your actions all night.

You always return to him. So, maybe this was just a matter of time. A slow smile spreads across that beautiful face he hadn't allowed himself to think about since the outbreak, and you huff out an affectionate laugh, your fingertips curiously running across his back and tracing raised lines and jagged shapes you've never felt before.

"Hi, Joel," you murmur fondly, still close enough for the tacky remains of your gloss to catch his bottom lip, and his tongue darts out to taste you.

It's real—it's too vivid not to be real. His eyes dart between yours, and he can still see everything your future together was supposed to hold. He still sees forever.

"Hey, baby," he rasps, his voice thick with tears and disuse, and something unidentifiable that sounds a lot like hope.

He hasn't felt this way in a long time. Not since you.

thanks for reading!

[ki-yomii]

personal taste | jjk

➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader ➥ word count | 1.3k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; established relationship, teasing, bent in half, premature ejaculation, implied cum play, implied oral (f receiving), inexperienced!jk ➥ summary | jungkook gets a little too excited and cums early, but he's more than happy to make it up to you. ➥ notes | ✌️idk man, its 2 am. i hope you enjoy lol

💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚

It was safe to say Jungkook wasn’t the most experienced of lovers when you first get together. Idol life consumed his adolescence, and by the time he’s a young adult, too many eyes are on his every waking move.

A quick affair is rarely worth the effort, and the ones that are leave much to be desired. Relegated to liquor-soaked make-out sessions, and quick, dirty fucks that leave him filled with more sweat and regret than satisfaction.

You’d only been dating a few months when he divulged why he got so jumpy any time your hand grazed his thigh, why he broke off your kisses before they got too heated.

He was adorably shy when he expressed how anxious he was about his performance in the bedroom; how the reality might not live up to your expectations.

But he shouldn’t have worried, having more than made up for any shortcomings with his eager to please attitude and boundless enthusiasm.

The number of times you’ve had sex since getting together can be counted on one hand, but he’s leaps and bounds ahead of where he was when you first started being intimate.

It certainly helps that Jungkook is a dedicated student; throwing himself, as he does with everything in life, full throttle into any and all efforts to learn the secrets of your body.

A quick learner, it isn’t long before he can make you cum with a skillful twist of his fingers, a harsh rut of the hips that settles him so deep inside your pussy, your thighs tremble.

Not only is he able to wring orgasm after orgasm out of you, his stamina is insane. Almost to the point where you’re having trouble keeping up with him, having to take little breaks between rounds to gulp down water and catch your breath. 

So… when it happens, it’s altogether unexpected.

But so fucking filthy hot you’re pretty sure you astral project to a higher plane of existence. 

You’d been teasing him all day: the brush of your hand across his ass, the skim of your knuckles over the crotch of his pants, pressing close against the wide berth of his back and whispering soft, nasty little nothings into his ear.

Delighting in the blush that crept up the sides of his neck. The cherry red burn of his ears as he gulped, readjusting himself before shooting you a glare.

Jungkook lasts longer than you give him credit for, though that’s most likely due to his competitive streak. He breaks all the same; however, shoving you into his bedroom as soon as the door to his apartment closes behind you.

So needy and desperate he can’t wait any longer, even if the rest of the boys are due to arrive in an hour.

You only just got undressed, the bed creaking under the combination of your weights when he cages you beneath him. His chest flexes with every hurried breath, his ribs expanding with labored puffs of air. His cock bullies its way inside your pussy, hips slotting into place against yours.

“J-Jungkook,” you whine, your toes digging into his sides as your thighs fall open across his. “So deep, I - haaah -”

The fat head of his cock nudges against your cervix with every little rut, sparks of pain fissioning out and deepening the warmth fizzling behind your belly button.

Thick and long, he stuffs your pussy to the brim every time without fail, stretching you wide until tears cling to your lashes and your nails dig into his shoulders.

It hurts no matter how long he spends prepping you, but you like it better this way. The pain only enhances the pleasure; deepens, and darkens.

And knowing he has to force his cock those last few inches because your pussy can’t take it without assistance always riles you up.

Makes you needy and desperate to take everything he can give like a good girl.

“Mm, I know, baby,” Jungkook’s breath hitches as his teeth tug on his lip ring, his eyes - half lidded and greedy - shadowed by the sweaty curtain of his bangs, “Feels so ffuh - fucking good inside you.”

“Hhn!” Your fingers inch up the corded muscles of his forearms, caressing over the whorls of ink as they shackle themselves to his elbows as he bends you in half. “Right there, right there. Jus like - ohmygod! - like that.”

Jungkook grunts, rocking into the cradle of your hips harder, the shaft of his cock dragging almost completely out only to slide to the hilt in one thrust. His pelvis grinds against the swollen bud of your clit as he holds himself there, your slick smearing into his skin.

He curses under his breath when your walls flutter, trying to milk him for all he’s worth. “Shit! Don’t - don’t do that, baby. I can’t - hnggg - I can’t -”

And then his cock throbs hard once, twice.

A litany of soft, breathy exhalations of pure pleasure accompanies the slick echo of your bodies crashing together. Then his head bends low, the dark briar of his hair clinging to his temples. His jaw drops slack, and a devastated moan punches out of his throat.

Muscles ripple into a full body shiver, Jungkook’s sharp hips stuttering against the backs of your thighs. Sticky warmth floods your cunt, and his hazy, lust-blown eyes stare into yours as he pumps you full of cum.

You groan, blinking up at him, “Did you just-?”

Jungkook’s arms buckle.

Flopping down onto you, a sweaty, panting mess, he tucks his hot face into the crook of your neck. Moist breath puffs across your skin, a ticklish awareness skittering down your spine. Goosebumps rise along your arms.

His heartbeat hammers against your ribs.

“Yeah, I - I…” Jungkook huffs, his nose dragging over the length of your collarbone, tongue flicking over your skin when he licks his lips. “I did. ‘m sorry, baby.”

Breathing in through your nose, you card a hand through his sweaty hair. Swallow down the pleading whines sitting on the tip of your tongue. You don’t want to embarrass him any more than he probably is.

He hasn’t cum this quick since the early days, and you’d rather not ruin the evening by making him spiral.

So even when your pussy flutters, trapped on the edge of an orgasm as his cum leaks out of you, you bite down on your impulses. Resign yourself to being horny for the foreseeable future until you can sneak away and take care of yourself with a vibrator.

“It’s alright, Kook. It happens.”

Your eyes close, and you breathe through your nose, trying to calm the gallop of your heartbeat.

Relaxing seems almost impossible with Jungkook’s constant shifting, but you try your best to get your body on the same page as your mind.

Only for all efforts to go to waste when Jungkook shimmies down between your thighs. The tips of his hair tickle your skin, your lower belly jumping at the sensation.

Furrowing your brow, you peek down at your boyfriend. “Kook, what’re you--?”

Broad palms caress your hips, Jungkook using his thumbs to trace over the jut of bone. His chest glitters under the light, the muscles shifting under his skin almost mesmerizing as he settles on his belly. Forearms hook over the tops of your thighs, and his dark eyes flash with hunger.

His mouth pulls up into an impish smirk. “Can I?” he asks, dropping his gaze to the apex of your thighs. “Please?”

He giggles when he sees how flustered you get. Syrupy sweet, boyish; altogether too endearing for the current circumstances.

“...Are you serious?”

You can’t deny the fresh wave of desire the thought brings - Jungkook with his thick fingers, his tender mouth and soft tongue stroking over swollen, abused flesh - but flap a hand between your bodies in a vague gesture all the same.

“Isn’t that kind of - you just, y’know?”

You aren’t the only one affected by the idea, Jungkook’s cock jerking feebly where it rests against his thigh. A pink tongue flicks out to run along the length of his red-bitten bottom lip, toying with his lip ring as his teeth sink into the soft flesh.

He regards you with predatory anticipation.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “I’ve always wondered what we taste like. Please let me.”

Well… who are you to refuse?

[sadesluvr]

Kiss It Better

Seven minutes in heaven with Ethan Landry turns out to be the therapy you both needed.

(Ethan Landry x Reader)

A/N: My first (overdue) Ethan fic! Pre ejac with Ethan is one of my guiltiest pleasures…Minors/Ageless blogs DNI

Word count: 1.5K

Tags: SMUT / Fem! Reader / Enemies to lovers / Handjobs / Fingering / Premature ejaculation / Virgin! Ethan + Experienced! Reader / Dirty talk / Dom + Sub elements, if you squint

Ethan didn’t know how he’d gotten here; back pressed against the narrow walls of a shoe cupboard whilst he fought the process of perspiration, which seemed damn near impossible given the stuffiness of the frat house. 

His heart pounded in his chest as he squirmed uncomfortably, desperate not to look you in the face. You, the bane of his existence,  had become stuck together, counting the seconds as the time passed for the dreaded seven minutes.

It was a Friday night, and expectedly, Chad had dragged him to another party, filled with cheap alcohol and set to the aura of low, coloured lighting. He hadn’t expected you to show up - people usually only showed up to parties for one thing, and you were already dating Bryce, someone who happened to be his classmate. 

To put it simply, Bryce was an ass. He was a self entitled econ student, with a Fortune 500 father and a future budding stint in jail for fraud - should he ever be caught - though guys like Bryce never did.  

Two things made it worse - One, the fact that he seemed to target Ethan himself, and two, that you, his girlfriend, never seemed to do anything about it…to the point that it was encouraged.

There was never a moment where Bryce hadn’t threatened Ethan for ‘help’ (it was much, much more than that) to the latest assignment, or made a snide comment towards him in the hallways. He hated it, but he’d always been kind of a pushover.

So wasn’t it ironic that you’d ended up rolling him at a game of ‘Spin the Bottle?’

“I’m sorry,” Ethan said, clearing his throat. “I know you probably wanted someone like Chad…”

You snorted.

“He definitely wouldn’t have hurt,” you sighed, staring up at the ceiling, likely begging for someone to rescue you. “But I’ve been there, done that….plus, I’ve already got a man,”

Ethan raised his brows at your flippant admission. Chad hadn’t mentioned that before.

“…Does Bryce know you’re here?” he stammered.

“Yup,” you said nonchalantly, popping your tongue. “He didn’t stop me, so I guess our chapter’s closed,”

“Y-You broke up?” Ethan said, throat dry as he choked on his own words. This probably meant that the bastard would be even more of an ass to him, if that were even possible.

You nodded.

Ethan stared at you with wide eyes, about to speak when you raised a finger.

“I don’t need your pity. It’s just a college fling, I’ll move on to the next.”

He raised his brow and puffed his cheeks at that statement. He’d heard the exact opposite, but who was he to speak about someone else’s relationship?

It was silent for a few moments, with you finding a particular interest in your nails before you looked up at Ethan, studying him intently. He was rather big for a nerd; tall, with surprisingly wide shoulders and arms - a direct contrast to his boyish curly hair. He’d always been nothing but shy and polite - something even Bryce had echoed - but you’d never really taken him seriously. At most, he was just some dude from Econ who happened to room with one of your past flings.

Still, whether it was the liquor induced haze from cheap alcohol or the fact that you were moping over your breakup, the little dork seemed rather appealing. After all, what was a better way to get over a failed relationship?

“Look, I’m sorry for how that came out, okay?” You huffed, making eye contact with him. “I’m a little hurt, and I can be a total ass sometimes…Just like Bryce. I’m sorry for how he treated you. Totally not cool.”

You tried not to giggle at the way the boy's eyes widened.

“Y-You don’t have to apologise, it’s not really your fault!” the boy stammered. “Bryce is — He’s Bryce. And I actually liked doing his assignments, they’re kinda fun when you’re really into the topic…! I-I mean not to—“

His rambling was silenced by your lips on his, taking charge as you smeared the taste of your lipgloss across his lips, consuming every one of his stifled gasps. You pulled away, unable to hide a smirk as he ran a hand through his hair; face flushed and panting. He was so animated in his actions that it was hard to believe he was real.

“Y-You kissed me…”

“Sorry,” you hummed. “I won’t do it again,”

“No! No, I liked it…” Ethan said desperately. “A lot…” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t think you’d be into a guy like me…”

You smirked and shrugged your shoulders.

“You’re pretty cute for a nerd. Besides, it’s pointless to waste our time here, isn’t it?”

“I-I think time should be up soon —“ the boy continued to stammer, but you rolled your eyes and placed a finger to his lips, silencing him.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” you whispered, draping your arms around his neck before you began to kiss him again, this time running your fingers through his hair, your graceful fingertips sending chills down his spine. He reciprocated, opting not to go too far and settling with his hands on your waist, tracing the curve of your spine as he relaxed into the motions of your lips against his.

Was he dreaming? 

His somewhat emboldened move made you smirk, and you pressed your body against his, breasts pushing against his chest and thigh rubbing along his crotch, causing him to gasp. 

“Shit…” he mumbled, pulling away as he tried to adjust himself. “I’m sorry, I —“

“Ethan,” you sighed, cupping his cheeks. “You don’t have to be sorry, I like it. And as long as you do too, I’m down. Just relax, okay?”

He nodded, mesmerised as you took his hand, and interlocked your fingers, guiding them from the soft mounds of your breasts to past your thighs, eventually slipping them under your skirt. Ethan’s fingertips had pushed your panties to the side with ease, and the boy almost choked as he enveloped his digits in your folds.

You were warm and wet, and so his movements inside you came easy. If the fact that he was touching you weren’t mesmerising enough, it was your unwavering eye contact that made his heart clench. You were taking control, and yet you were still submissive enough to let him explore you - solidified by the entranced look in your eye. 

He must’ve been doing something right.

“Feel good?” you hummed, not really listening out for an answer. Ethan’s low, ragged breaths told you everything, and you almost took pity on him for what was to come.

Sliding your hands down his torso, you stopped at his jeans, cupping his bulge and giving it a gentle squeeze. He gasped; involuntarily pulling you towards him as his head draped slightly on your shoulder. He was practically keeling over and you’d barely even touched him.

Smirking, you skilfully unzipped his fly and dug around in his briefs, gripping your hands around his cock before pulling it out. His precum dripped tip grazed your thigh, twitching as you began to stroke the vessel, admiring its girth.

Ethan whimpered, shutting his eyes as he parted his lips, lost in the flurry of sensations. He’d just found your clit, and he revelled in the way you’d moaned as he rubbed it, causing your walls to clench on his fingers…and now here you were, jerking him off.

“Is this your first handjob, Eth?” you purred into his ear. He could barely fathom an answer, instead nodding vehemently, tousling his hair in the process.

“Aw,” you giggled, giving his balls a gentle squeeze as you kissed his reddening neck. “I’m so lucky to be your first…I bet you’ve been dreaming of this for a while, hm?”

Ethan squeezed his eyes shut, gasps slowly getting louder as he took deeper breaths. He withdrew his face from your shoulder to look at you, a beautiful devil, eyes clouded with lust as they glimmered in the dim lighting of the house around you. In this moment, nothing mattered, and he took the opportunity to kiss you - to which you eagerly returned.

His movements became more frantic as you squealed at his sudden aggression, your mixture of shock and fear somehow turning him on even more. It reminded him of all the screams of fear when he —

“Fuck, Eth,” you whined further, drawing him from his thoughts. “You’re so big, no wonder why Bryce hated you…” you mused before letting out a chuckle. “…You know, I’ve always secretly had a thing for nerds.”

Whether you were being genuine or not, Ethan immediately spilled his load at the statement, moaning loudly in your shoulder as his body convulsed and fingers twitched. His rich cum coated your fingers, and you laughed as he writhed against you, riding out his high. He’d only lasted three minutes, but they were the best three minutes of his life.

He hid his face shyly as he looked back up at you.

“That quick, hm?” you giggled, licking the excess off of your skin. “You continue to flatter me, Landry,”

“Let me make it up to you,” he said boldly, wholly serious as he stared you in the eye. You cocked a brow, expecting him to be apologetic, but you couldn’t help but admire his newfound confidence.

Fixing your clothes, you nodded and curved your lips into a smile.

“I think I will,” you hummed, taking his hand in yours. “Your place or mine?”

[vasiktomis]

Reverse Psychology (Reigen Arataka x GN!Reader, 18+)

Rating: Explicit (Minors do NOT interact). Word Count: ~2400. Tags/Warnings: No use of Reader pronouns. Negging. Office Sex. Pining. Service Submission. Confessions. Doggy-style. Creampie. (and it isn't a vasiktomis work without) Premature Ejaculation. Consensual Non-Consent. Read it on Ao3 Here!

“I’d had my suspicions, but I didn’t — ah — realise you were this into me.”

He’s such a loser, you think, gasping as he gracelessly gropes and grabs at your waist, your hips, your thighs. He’s such a scumbag. You want to bash his skull in. He’s adorable.

You won’t lie; you know he’s overestimating your infatuation with him. You’re sure he doesn’t actually believe what he’s saying — it’d just be mighty convenient for him if you believed it. Even when he’s got you pinned to the wall, body flush against yours, panting into your neck while he tries to recover from getting too lost in feverish kisses, he can’t drop a con when the opportunity presents itself.

Lucky for you, you know him too well to feel hurt over it, let alone fall for it. It’s always been like this between the two of you; Reigen, in all his arrogance, negging the shit out of you for as long as you’ve known him. Baiting you into seeking his approval, his attraction, when all he does behind your back is stare. You’d been wise to it from week one, but you hadn’t realised how bad he had it until you’d paid him to house-sit while you were on vacation with friends last year. When you’d come home to respectfully watered houseplants and a hamper full of underwear that weren’t crusted with cum and shamefully shoved to the bottom of the basket when you’d left it.

You’ve known as long as he has that he’s wanted you, but its just too fun, watching him make a fool of himself while he’s trying to bait you into throwing yourself at him.

It’s the little things that beckon your attention, and he probably hates that. The sincerity and care that creep out of the cracks when his apprentices arrive in a less than stellar mood. The underlying consideration he puts into not giving a shit about you. He’d never buy you dinner, no fucking way, but he sure has a running list of all your favourite foods specifically so he can have you pressure him into sharing a cold mouthful after an unnecessarily long monologue about fending for yourself.

He broke first. You knew he would. Finally, after all this time gloating about girlfriends that don’t exist and shoving unwarranted dating advice at you, he gave in. At the most boring moment too — not even during a fight or while one of you were inconsolably crying. You’d just gotten too close on your way past when you were leaving the agency for the day, and he just broke.

It must be a blow, after all that work he put into the facade. You’d heard the resigned sound in his throat when he’d rounded on you, hands finding your shoulders, kissing you open-mouthed before you’d even had a chance to kiss back. It just wouldn’t be like him to let that image slide.

He’s bolstering his ego with all this dominance, and you’re happy to let him. If you’re honest, you kind of like it; letting him believe he’s fooling you. He’s taking charge, but the power’s all yours. It’s your decision to call him out whenever you like, and if he wants to spend the first shot he’s had at you lying, it feels only reasonable to make him work for it.

You give him nothing. A blank canvas to project onto and a tongue in his mouth in lieu of something he might be able to hold against you later.

It's perfect. He pulls back, delighted.

“God, I knew it. You don’t even try to hide it.” Reigen mutters, frantically tugging at buttons and fabric to shift his attention to your chest. The kisses he smears on your clavicle, your sternum, over the swell of your tits, are hurried and sloppy, already not quite living up to how cool he’s trying to play this. “I bet you’re already ready for it.”

Bad performer’s trick: rush you through to the sex so you never have to find out he’s terrible at foreplay. Or, maybe he’s concerned he can’t hold his nut long enough.

God, he must be terrified beneath that facade.

You just have to fuck him.

You reach down, fumbling with his belt, and he gasps, at least before he squashes the sound into an elated little laugh. “You don’t have to go so fast.”

And there’s the gaslighting.

You don’t slow, but he’s parted from you enough to give you the space to do what you need to do, unbuckling and unbuttoning and unzipping, all while keeping your eyes on his. You watch his expression cloud with something little less controlled. More sincere. Boyish. Then, you take your hands away, and his throat bobs. Nervous. He’s sweet, under it all. And so, so scared of showing it.

It’s a shame.

Maybe if you do this a few more times you could coax it out of him.

“You’re not gonna make me beg, are you Arataka?” You purr, watching a bead of sweat form and slip on his brow in the time it takes for you to be forward enough to call him by his first name. “After keeping me waiting this long?”

“H-how long?” Reigen chokes, barely audible. Then, he clears his throat. A second try, peppered with a cocky little smile. “How long.” He dips his face back into the crook of your neck, resuming his assault, picking a wise time to hide his face.

Your hand slips down the front of his pants, palming him through the fabric of his underwear, and his whole body jolts. “You tell me.”

It’s like he can’t get close enough, anchoring himself to you. He fumbles to reach you the same way, but the position is already awkward standing this close. Momentarily, he’s at your mercy. “I don’t know. A little above average? I’m not the kind of insecure guy who needs to brag about that kind of thing.”

He’s so full of shit.

You guide his cock out of his underwear. Nothing to be very impressed by. Below average, if you’re honest. Not particularly girthy, either, but there’s a pleasant upward bend you’re sure you could have fun with. A slick pearl of pre-cum forms on the slit when your thumb traces up his already tugging foreskin. He was ready to go before you even started touching him.

Who are you to deny yourself the enjoyment of watching him embarrass himself?

You take his hand, and he watches, transfixed as you spit into his palm before turning yourself to face the wall.

“That’s-...really gross. You should probably ask people before you do that sort of thing.” There’s a shudder in his voice as he chides you. A slick sound and a hollow inhale as he works your saliva over his cock. You ignore him. The quaver in his breath gives his excitement away, and you help shove down your pants just enough to grant him access.

Reigen struggles, of course he struggles to line himself up at first. He takes a moment to tilt his hips the right way, to tug at yours. When he sinks into you, it’s all the way, fingers bunching your shirt to push just a little further. Just to make a point of it.

He pauses like that, holding his breath, one hand cupped over his mouth as he cranes over your shoulder. Savouring the feeling as much as you are, you assume — at least before you feel his cock throb inside you, and his whole body goes stiff. A choked gasp almost makes it past Reigen’s palm, diaphragm quaking against your back.

He’s absolutely coming, and if you weren’t too proud you’d admit, the angle of his acceptable cock throbbing against one particular bundle of nerves almost has you dizzy yourself. Utter fluke. It has to be.

Reigen’s body slackens a little. The orgasm passes. In your periphery, just over your shoulder, he looks downright horrified.

“Did you just-“

“What? No.”

The mask is back on in an instant. Reigen’s hand joins the other at your hips. He pulls out halfway. Sinks back in. The slide is thick. Gathering around your entrance, smearing the crux of your thighs. God, even his balls are wet against your ass. Just how much did he nut?

It’s -…kind of hot.

“Are you used to your partners not lasting?” He asks. You look down, tempted to see if he’s managed to make a mess of your underwear, and the bastard’s fingers snap to your jaw, angling your face back up for a kiss. He’s desperate for you not to know. Fine. You’ll play along. “Eyes up.” He breathes against your lips, punctuating with a thrust before he settles into a rhythm in you. It’s adorable, the dominant act. You can’t wait to smush him like a bug. “I asked you a question.”

“Arataka.” You attempt, shocked to find yourself choking on the word as he keeps going, wise enough to know not to stray once he’s found a spot that you respond well to. “Fuck, I-“

“It’s okay, I know.”

Something awful and delicious shakes through you. That shouldn’t have had such an effect on you as it does. What’s this guy’s deal?

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t have a damn clue. But he really goes the extra mile to convince you otherwise.

“You should — touch yourself.” Reigen grunts into your hair. “I don’t plan on finishing until you do.”

You wonder if that’s Reigen-talk for ’oh fuck I’m gonna blow again’. You wonder if you should take your time, just so you can find out.

Oh, but why would you ruin his good time? It doesn’t help that the idea of coming with him in you is a pretty enough thought that you’re doing what he tells you.

With only one free arm to cushion you against the wall while Reigen ruts into you, you manage to find enough space for the other to see to your own needs.

It’s humiliating, the sound that escapes you when your touch compliments his own. He must feel the same way when his breath hitches in-kind, groaning at the feeling of your own pleasure clenching around his cock.

“Keep talking.” You manage, burying your own face into the back of your hand. He’s too close. He’ll hear how much you’re actually enjoying this. He’ll see it on your face. “Keep talking to me, Arataka.”

“Fuck—“

Oh, of course he liked hearing that.

“I — I can’t —“ His words diminish to a whisper you’re not even sure you were supposed to hear. “I can’t believe you’re letting me do  all this to you.”

You can’t, either. And yet, here you are. Raising onto your tippy-toes, rolling your hips back to angle him deeper as if his balls aren’t already swiping you with each thrust. Big mistake, you realise. His cock drags against something that has you shuddering, hurtling toward your own end. There’s no helping it. No helping you. Not when Reigen’s arm coils around your waist, pulling you so close that you can’t chase his movements anymore. The other locks over your chest in a desperate embrace. He’s barely pulling out before he’s ramming back into you now, nearly folded over you at this point. Something drapes against your shoulder, and god help you, you surrender your bracing arm to grab at it, letting your face squish against the wall without anything to cushion it.

Your fingers wrap tight around that stupid tie, keeping his chin hooked over your shoulder. A yelp slips out of him. A new pitch. Your core burns from the awkward posture, from exertion, from the delight of having him come so undone by you despite all his efforts.

It’s —

“I’m close.” You pant. “I’m close — I”m so close—“

His grip on you is suffocating. Fingers wrench at your shirt.

Reigen lets out something akin to a sob. “God, please — I’m so fucking crazy about you. Please, come, please, please—“

It hits you without mercy, tearing through you with a helpless whine. Were it not for being sandwiched right now, your trembling legs would give out beneath you. Instead, you’re held in place by Reigen’s desperate little ruts, unwittingly drawing your orgasm out each time his cock hits that spot again, muscles chasing the motions. Constricting around him, spurring him on.

You’re shaking when it passes, paled thoughts only brought back to coherency by the increasing pitch of Reigen’s breaths. Mouthed words evolve into a barely comprehensible muttering of ’oh shit, oh fuck, oh shit—‘ before he’s finally aware he has the green light.

“Where?” He pants, “Where do you want it? Can I finish inside?”

Is this guy for real?

You can’t even form a response. You’re too busy drooling against the wall, face smearing against the wet spot with every thrust.

Reigen seems to take no news as good news. As if he ever had a choice. The pitch in his breath reaches a crescendo, and with your last rational thought, your last ounce of strength, you yank his tie, hard. His posture curls around yours, clinging to you with a delectable sound. His cock throbs again, and your face squishes into the wall even more as Reigen’s own legs tremble, forcing him to brace his weight forward as he empties himself into you.

For a while, he catches his breath, still holding you to him. You feel his lips ghost over the back of your neck like he’s considering a kiss — but suddenly he finds it too bold a move. He shakily steps back, and all of a sudden he’s folded onto his knees with a tired grunt.

Left without your counterweight, you sink to the floor with him, leaving a snail-trail of saliva in your wake as you slide down the wall and settle down. Weakly, you flip onto your ass, still too dazed to bother with the clean-up just yet.

Across from you, Reigen gingerly feels through his jacket pocket. "Great. My pants are ruined. You wanna go halves at the coin laundry?" The sweat stains in his armpits almost reach his waist, and his business shirt is so damp it's near-translucent. He can’t take his eyes off the cum that seeps out of you, onto the floor.

“That was a lot.” He comments, clearing his throat. He finds that cigarette and tucks the box away without offering you one. “Wouldn’t be surprised if that was like, two loads worth.”

You squint at him. “Man, would you shut the fuck up?”

[etfrin]

All Good Boys Go To Heaven — Sejanus Plinth ⁠♡

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | Losing virginity, pinv sex, fingering (f. receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, premature ejaculation | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: Virgin! Sejanus Plinth x Virgin! Fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: uhm... Just first times with each other <3

⇢☾A/N: this damn website needs more content about this man, and why is there NO ICONS of his character djjdksks

< masterlist > ⁠♡ < tag list >

Sejanus wanted to learn. He wanted to learn your thoughts, he wanted to learn every secret your soul hid. Most importantly he wanted to learn your body. Everything that made you heat, your breath hitch, your eyes widen and glaze and your lips moan. He wanted-, no, he needed to know.

His fingers ghost over your skin, his fingertips grazing your skin until it's just above your cunt. “Tell me what feels good, baby,” he whispered, breathless from the kissing that had occurred moments ago. “Everything, anything, Sajanus please,” you plead, your tone heated and needy.

Both of you were so new at this. Something sacred was going to take place. You would connect your bodies, and exchange your hearts and hopefully, it would be the start of forever.

You don't know how you end up under him when all both of you were doing was sharing your thoughts, which lead to confessions and messy kisses, disorganized thoughts with fumbling hands, a wet cunt, and a hard cock.

Seems like a perfect combo. A perfect night if you will. His room was lit up with moonlight, the lamp turned off long ago. Sajanus had you pinned down on his bed, looming over you, his breath hitting your lips as his fingers trace your cunt lips. He pulls at your pussy lips, before dipping his fingers onto your cunt, his digits getting soaked with your juices. He rubs his fingertips all over your aroused flesh, accidentally swiping over your clit several times. The action made you jolt and moan every time he did it. “Feels good? Gonna make you feel better. I swear, baby.” He groans into your ear, his lips placing a wet kiss on your cheek.

He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to find the source of your pleasure before he found the existence of your bud. “This here, right?” He questioned, his fingers curiously pinching the bud making you moan louder than previously. “Sev!” You gasp and you can hear him grin in his reply, “That's it, baby. Take it.” He rolls the bud between, relentlessly as your clit puffs and swells, if there was light you could have sworn it was getting red from stimulation.

Meanwhile, your cunt was attention deprived despite being a drooling mess. You sneak your hand onto your inner thigh, your fingers inching closer until it meets your wet cunt. You begin to swipe your fingers onto your heat, just like he had. The sensation makes your thighs twitch and your toes curl. Your fingers swipe with his, him now paying attention to your wet cunt while you play with your bud.

A whimper escapes when one of his fingers slips in and he lets out a groan as he feels your hot, wet walls surrounding his single digit. “Fuck, fuck, baby. This pussy is gonna make me a wild man,” he whispered, as he made his finger breach inside of you deeper, curious movements of his digits around your walls, trying to find that one spot he heard so much about.

You were becoming a mess of soft moans under him. Despite being a virgin, your pussy was not a stranger to pleasure (but you have never cum before). You knew how sensitive you were down there, even if Sejanus wasn't able to find your g-spot, it still felt so good with your sensitive walls clenching around his digit.

But, bless him he does it find it. The spongy spot that made him as curious as he was about your swollen clit (which you were playing with, and it hurt with how attention the bundle of nerves was getting but you couldn't stop). He begins to press on it, making you gasp and arch your back, your hip trying to ride his finger but stopped with the hold of his opposite hand pinning you down.

“That's it, isn't it? Hmm, baby,” he whispered, his face nuzzling into your neck, his tongue coming out to lick a strip of your skin. “It is! Fuck, Sej!” You whimper, your fingers abandoning your clit out of overwhelm and twisting the sheets instead, your opposite hand buried in his dark curls.

“Don't be too loud,” he whispered to you, his lips brushing against your skin. “They'll wake up,” he groans, as he adds in a second finger and a third (without even thinking that it might be too much for you) making you gasp and squeeze his fingers, your walls stretching to their limits.

“Too much,” you mewl, trying to get used to the feeling of being stuffed, “too much, Sej!” His fingers continue to twist and press against your walls, his finger pad grazing the spongy spot repeatedly making you gush juices onto his hands. “Sorry,” he said, his voice muffled as he continued to press his lips onto your neck, sucking the flesh like he was a vampire desperate for a drop of blood. “Gotta stretch you out for my cock, baby. It's big so please, please be patient, sweetheart. It's gonna feel good. I want to be good for you,” he pleads, his voice whiny and sending shocks to your core.

A heat that you knew all too well begins to form in your lower tummy. A heat that always faded before you could do anything about it. You didn't want it to fade, you wanted it to spread all over your body. “Yes, yes,” you purr, “Faster, Sejanus. Ah- deeper. Fuck. Fuck, press into it more.”

“Like that?” He inquired as his fingers pressed into the spot, he kept flexing them into the spot, not bothering with thrusting his digits into you anymore. “Yes, like that!” You moan, your body squirming, unable to be still from the pleasure, not even the looming comforting weight of Sajanus kept you in place.

Then it happened, your movements caused him to touch, barely, but his pads teased the deepest part of your insides. A hint of pain rushed in your veins but the ecstasy of cumming for the first time was so much better. Nothing could compare to it at all.

Even Sejanus groans as he feels your wet pussy gushing with juices and spasming around his thick digits. It was a miracle, a mercy from above that he hadn't come just from your sounds, from the way your gummy walls feel around his fingers, and how warm and snuggly your cunt will be for his cock when he finally fucks you.

“Need you to cum around my cock like this,” he whispered, as he kissed your lips. “Please,” he keens. “Can I? I can't- darling please.” He whines as his hand that was previously fucking you wraps itself around his cock. He begins to stroke his length, pre-cum being used a lube will each rough stroke.

“You can,” you said to him, confirming your consent. “I want this, Sejanus.” You reassure him by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer for a sloppy kiss. It didn't matter to either of you that there was no finesse, too much tongue and teeth, clumsily meeting and swirling around. But he tasted like the boy you loved and to him, you tasted like the forever he read about.

And that's enough.

He settled himself between your legs, your legs around his waist locking him in. The smell of sweet sex and salty sweat assaulted the air. He pressed his forehead against yours as he whispered, “Gonna push in, sweetheart. Tell me if there's anything wrong.”

You give a hum in response, your mind blanking out as you feel his thick cockhead popping inside your pussy. You whimper from the stretch, your walls taking him and begging for more. You could feel yourself clench involuntarily as inch by inch your cunt takes him. His cock getting hugged by your pussy. It was heaven for him. Sejanus bit his lower lip to stop his whimpers, his eyes watering because of this. . . Oh, this is perfect.

So. Fucking. Perfect.

You couldn't blame the boy for what happened next, he wasn't fully in, half of his girth left to be pushed inside you as he shattered. Thick, hot cum fills your womb as he finally whimpers. “Sorry, sorry,” he whines, “Thought I could- your pussy is so good.” Despite cumming, he was hard and his hips had begun to rut into you, his dick stroking your insides, deeper with each sloppy thrust.

You couldn't say anything, no words of reassurance nor words of praise of how good he made you feel could be uttered. Your lips were parted only to moan, saliva dripping down your chin as he went faster and faster. Sejanus doesn't even realize how brutal his pace is, he keeps going because it feels so good for him and you're moaning loudly so it must be good for you too.

Your blunt nails end up scratching his back as his thrusts get deeper and slower, his cock despite being sensitive getting used to slick, tight walls. “You're perfect. This is perfect,” he whines, his lips gliding against yours, tongues entangling for a slow, indulgent kiss. “You're doing amazing,” you manage to purr to him. His brown doe eyes look into yours for validation. “Yeah?” He whimpers, and one of your hands goes to caress his cheek, “Yeah.”

He lets out a groan and his hips begin to lose pace again. Clumsily, he keeps fucking into you, sometimes by luck his cockhead grazed your g-spot, making you jolt and moan louder. Even with a couple of hits and misses, you could feel tension coil up again, and so close to snapping.

He felt it too, your cunt twitching around his cock, tightening and becoming impossibly warm. “Please,” he grunts, “Cum on my cock.”

You whimper in response, your hand finding the way down your body where your clit is. You gasp when you begin to play with the bud, rolling the bundle of nerves between your fingers. You feel the coil getting tighter, tension getting stiffer as you get close to snapping.

With a particular thrust that pressed right onto your spongy spot, combined with your fingers with your sensitive bud. It was enough to have your gummy walls spasming around his walls. His hips stutter, his cock pressed deeply inside of you as he stops thrusting altogether, as he feels you cum around him. He lets out a groan as he feels his release wash over him, filling you up with his cum again.

“That's it, baby,” he whispered, “I love you.”

Current tag list: @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @@dollfacedalls @motley-baby @champomiel @slytherinholland @randomstuff2040 @justacaliforniandreamer @emmalinemalfoy @hyuk4s @theamuz @watercolorskyy @littlebiwitchsworld @eir964 @skywalker1dream @darkangelkathiecookiesmith @ben-has-arrived @bucksdonkey @xyzstar @ellie-luvsfics @sunny-deary @daughter1of2anita3dearly @eir964 @nowsyhozey @ayaya-aa @serving-targaryen-realness @hansbasement @louweasleymalfoy @lettersandwhiteroses @arzua10 @wotcherpeak @ever8ea @daughter-of-the-stars11 @blippys-blog @iguanagwen @moonlight-by-the-sea @snowlandstop @badbleep88 @hobireasns @fartinglaterxoxo

[pedge-page]

omg imagine PK x Plushies i love you so much girl you are amazing

Plushies x Piss Kink Crossover - Joel Miller x F!Reader

Notes: The crossover that was bound to happen and its HEREREEEEEEEE. This is more Plushies!verse setting and they discover a lil piss kink.

Warnings: PissKink, Plushies humping, yes we are peeing on the plush, premature ejaculation, assisted male masturbation, crying, jealous!Joel, and a HINT (just a bit) of sub!Joel at the end

18+ ONLY

- - - -

“What’s this one? Benny the Buffalo?” Joel asks, staring down at the brown fuzzy stuffed animal in his hands.

“No, dummy, that’s Biscuit, the Bison,” you retort, not even looking at him as you continue reading.

The two of you are lying down on your new “shared” bed, and Joel has decided its time he get to know his roommates on first name basis.

“Course. And this?” He snatches the white rabbit next. “BunBun?”

“Carrot.”

“Appropriate. How about Ghosty over here?”

“Casper.”

“How original. Aaaannnddd....?” He shoves the next one in your face to get your attention: a fat baby chick with an enormous orange bill.

“Mr Quakers,” you answer matter-of-factly.

“I bet he’s loads of fun on that little nub of yours,” he snickers. He tosses the poor chick like a free-throw basketball across the room.

He grabs the next one, buried waaaay in the back of your bed under all the rest. “Alright, Let me guess… Hammy the Hamster.”

“No that’s—“ you take one look at the one currently in his palms: a medium sized hamster with bitty hands and a large head as big as his squat body. Quickly hiding your shocked expressions, you go back to your book and say very casually, “Um…that’s… Frank.”

“Frank?”

“Mhm.”

“Just Frank.”

“Yup.”

“Frank the Hamster. How does that make sense?”

“Well I didn’t name him.”

“And who did?"

You swallow, wondering why Joel’s got so many goddamn questions about the naming conventions of your stuffed animals. “Um … Frank did…”

“Stuck up fella, naming the thing after him. Who was this “Frank” then. Your uncle? Was he as perverted as me?”

“No. Frank’s… my ex.”

Your face feels hot, avoiding his gaze and trying to look anywhere but at him. 

Joel stares at you with an unreadable expression, then back to the fisted squishy hamster plush. He contemplates for what feels like an eternity. There’s an uneasy silence hanging in the air, and your heart is beating out of your chest, wondering what he may be thinking about those word resonating in his ears.

He clenches his jaw, gritting his teeth into diamonds while looking at something so extremely soft and huggable. You hope maybe he’ll just dropkick it out the window at worst, but instead: 

“Hands and knees on the floor. We’re fucking Frankie the Hamster tonight.”

-

There was no “we”. What he really meant was YOU are fucking Frank the Hamster tonight, and he is pinning you down and forcing you to grind on it harder.

“Joel—that—feels… uncomfortable.”

He’s not rubbing his cock along your ass, or nudging your clit or kissing you. Instead, he’s caged you between the thick mass of his sold body and the hamster on the floor, your legs spread out with his knees along the inside of your calves to keep them open.

He keeps rubbing along your pelvis, palm digging into the squishy part right below your belly, pressing hard against your bladder.

“Joel,” you warn again. Your legs quiver with the rapid build, too afraid to push him off entirely. He’s steaming, that’s for sure, but why torture you above the little helpless guy?

“S’matter? You don’t like rubbing your slutty pussy over your ex’s face?”

“It’s just a stuffed animal—ow!” You cry as Joel pinches your nipple through your shirt.

“You grind on Frankie’s face before?”

“N-no. Never,” you swear. 

“Mmm. Not sure I believe you, sweet pea. Kept him all these years, didn’t ya?”

You shake your head, too afraid to face him. You really hadn’t been grinding on the hamster ever. In fact, you nearly forgetting of his existence until Joel fished him up while asking everyone’s name. 

He forces your back to arch even more drastically, putting more pressure between your naked cunt and the soft squish bellow you. You furrow your brows, fear creeping between your spread legs, unable to clench against something to brush off the mounting pressure in you.

“Joel please—I really need to go...” you didn't want to finish the sentences. He wasn't pleasuring with his hands you in the right places so much as building pressure in the wrong one.

“Go where? I’m all you need. Right. Here.” His fingers dig possessively into your side while his other hand pushes into your lower belly.

You shake your head again. Heart racing now that you no longer care about your pleasure and are more concerned with the mess of forbidden bodily fluids you’re about to rain all over your poor Frankie—

It hits you with burning desire mixed with an irksome bile. You gasp out angrily. 

This. Mother. Fucking. Asshole.

Joel smirks into your neck behind you, as if reading your mind figuring out his evil little plan. 

“S’wrong, angel? Would you rather be doing this with any of MY plushies I’ve spoiled you with?”

“I—you—“ you grit your teeth, eyes closing as a wave of panic washes deep through your core. You’re desperate not to make a mess, a fool of yourself to tame his sadistic need to own every inch of control over you.

He hears the little staggered pants from your lips. “Do it,” he commands softly but with finality, laced with a sadistic “win” for him.

A tear slips down your cheek as you moan sadly, your stomach giving up and unclenching as the walls of your bladder breaks, and hot urine spills into the stuffed animal’s face currently wedged so tightly against your entrance. 

“Shhhhhh,” he coos, finally grinding himself against your ass. He can hear the feint rushing liquid of your piss splatting into the cotton. 

He presses you further into its plush softness, suffocating every inch of your crotch so that it absorbs all the nasty warm juice squeezing out of you like a lemon. Your legs quiver violently as you can’t help but release more and more, flowing out as if by his demand and feeling the poor plush get heavy with the rush filling its cotton innards up.

"Naughty girl, am I making you piss all over your ex's face? Little Frankie doesn't deserve that does he?" He taunts, fully well intending for this to exactly happen as he wanred.

There’s so much, and another tear slips passed you, but this one because it feels so—relieving. It’s gross and nasty, embarrassing and heartbreaking all at once, and it makes you hump against him and the dampened hamster even more. 

Joel feel the quickened breaths coming out desperately from your nose as you grind down on the defiled thing all soaked up with your own piss. Your hips are frantic, smothering your cunt with the piss-logged plush desperately, as if you were trying to...

“Shit—are you…?”

You cry out in response, mouth agape with satisfied groans when you clit catches along the wet seams just right and you find yourself cumming on the sad wet thing drowned below you.

Joel clears his throat in surprise. His cock pulses on its own and floods the inside of his pants in white strings of his seed.

Did he think you would probably cry? Yes.

Did he want you to pee and destroy your ex’s little gift to you? Yes.

Did he expect you to fucking cum from it? Um.

Did he know HE would cum from it??? No. Definitely not. 

His teeth grind against one another trying not to think about how perverted he is, pulling away from you so you can’t feel his sticky spent through his trousers and on to your back. 

The squishy lump below you begins seeping the now cooled piss into the floor boards. You sigh deeply, not sure what to do now that your little punishment has turned into—something wilder.

You feel a gentle kiss along your cheek, his thumb caressing away your tears.

“That was hot,” He admits plainly.

You cover your face to hide your smile. It’s gross. It really is. Should be embarrassing. You don’t even want to think about the hamster on the floor, the memories you’ve just soddened with your own fucking piss. 

He helps you off the floor. Your thighs still shake, the uncomfortable feeling hanging there in disgust now that you’re mentally sober again.

He guides you to the shower where you both wash up quietly.

“Um—listen I didn’t… I don’t know why you would keep your ex’s stuff but…I mean I’m reasonably… it doesn’t make me feel great, so ya can’t blame me, for getting jealous—“

You shut him up but tugging against his half hard cock.

“First of all,” you say, the sudden boldness in your voice blanking his mind into submission under your touch.

“That plush, was from my first boyfriend—in high school. We dated for 2 months,” you continued, your fingers gripping his base with a gentle squeeze, feeling him swell to full mass, “and then he realized he liked boys. That was it. We laughed about it and stayed good friends. He gave me the stuffed animal as a parting gift to college for helping him through it all.”

You stop rubbing his cock and Joel opens his eyes. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“So…Frank’s just… a friend…”

You kiss his collarbone. “Just a friend,” you repeat.

The water coats his back soothingly. An ache that had formed in his muscles, the strain of aggression tickling his brain from the minute he heard you had a stuffed animal named after your ex, still in your bed after years, had suddenly vanished. 

“Why—why would you say hes your ex and not just your old friend? Why'd ya let me make you do that to it?” He asks, concerned now that he’s ruined something sentimental to you over his quickness to jealousy.

“Because—“ you nip along the swell of his chest, both hands working along his hardened cock. “You wanted it.” Your thumb swipes along his tip, the precum feeling sticky despite the shower water drenching you. 

He moans, head falling into your shoulder as he thrusts his length into your palm. 

As your wrist continues to jerk him off, your lips ghost the shell of his ear with a deadly, lascivious whisper: 

“And I’m too crazy for you to say no.”

- - - -

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[sp00kymulderr]

part 3 - Afterburn

series masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x afab reader (no pronouns)

Warnings: 18+, cursing, details of grief, survivors guilt, dealing with emotions badly, reader is dealing with death of a loved one, general sadness, kissing, m masturbation, premature ejaculation, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving). Please let me know if I missed any.

Word Count: 5.6k

Summary: “Do you remember what it’s like to be happy?”

A/N: I'm sorry it's taken so long to post. I'm really proud of this one. If you like it please please comment and/or reblog. To follow for fic updates only go to @sp00kyupdates​ or see taglist details on my masterlist. Credit to banner/divider maker.

Joel is not the same after you return from your short shower. Your packs are waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs as he stands by the door scanning the horizon, an impatient tut leaves him.

“We gotta go, you ready?” He grunts, not even bothering to look at you.

“Joel c’mon…” You respond, your voice a little hoarse.

“Just-” Joel snaps and then sighs, finishing the rest of the sentence in a slightly softer tone “Grab your stuff. Put on your boots”

He shoulders his pack and walks out the door, waiting on the porch. You mutter your frustration. He isn’t being fair and you’re pretty sure he knows it too. You want to understand why this is such a bad thing - the two of you - but he doesn’t seem to want to even acknowledge what happened.

You sit on the sagging couch and look once more around the old house. It’s always difficult to come to these places, but somehow it’s also difficult to leave them. Someone lived here, someone loved here, someone was happy here once – you hope at least. You look around the dusty living room once more and contemplate, as you always do. What has this place seen, what kind of people called it a home? What secrets does it keep?

Those thoughts bring you to your own home too, where you’d been until the outbreak. You’d never gone back but you’d often thought of returning, seeing if anything of your old life still existed. Since you’d lost your last connection to your past.

You shake your head and pull on the new boots lacing them tight, ready to put them to the test at least. Joel is waiting for you outside when you finally make your way to him and he’s already walking, apparently sure of the direction.

You follow in silence for a while. Your feet don’t hurt as bad as before and you’re grateful for that.

“Did you ever go home, Joel?” You ask eventually, hesitant.

“Huh?” he’s only half listening to you, looking around for any signs of imminent threat.

“You ever go back to your old home?”

“No” is all he says.

You leave it at that.

The last thing Joel wants to think about is home. Home is where his broken heart is. He’d never go back there, he’d pull the memory completely from his head if he could. 

There’s a lot of memories he wishes he didn’t have to have.

And now he has a new one; his head feels so all over the place because of you and your lips, your warmth, the disquieting solace he found in you. He knows he shouldn’t punish you for any of it; for what happened, for how he feels, for how he doesn’t understand his feelings. But he’s already punishing himself for everything else that’s ever happened, so you’ll have to take the brunt of this mistake.

And it was a mistake, he knows that. You don’t want him the way you think you do. He’s sure of it. It’s not about anything more than forgetting for you, for finding some distraction from your pain. He knows it too well. He’s been there. He’s still there in a way but at least after all these years he knows better than to chase that feeling. He has to keep away, help you know better too.

“Keep up” He mutters as he looks back at you, and he knows he sounds harsh but he can’t stop himself.

That deceitful monster in him wants more. He feels it. He won’t give in to it.

When you were younger you used to run free and happy in the green garden outside your house. You would spend all your time outside, climbing trees, scaling rocks, swimming in the lake by the forest. You had a treehouse in the garden and you'd climb up to it every summer night and watch the world from up there, free and happy and something more.

Alive in more ways than just surviving.

She'd been with you even then, you'd share secrets and tell stories cuddled up in your sleeping bags in the treehouse at night together. You lived for those moments when you and your best friend would live in your own world and everything else was just background noise.

Now you're climbing trees and scaling rocks but not for the same reasons the innocent child of your past would. You have to scope out the land, find a good place to stop. Joel helps boost you up to a branch so you can climb, to check out some noise in the distance of the forest, and when you snag your shirt on a twig you have this pang of gut-wrenching muscle memory of that time she fell from the treehouse and you thought for a moment of blind panic that you'd lost her.

You hate that every single thing reminds you of her. You despise the memories for making you misty eyed and weak. The more Joel ignores you as the time goes on, the worse it gets. The more you remember, the more everything reminds you of your dead best friend and the lives you'd lost to this world of horrors. Your life next, you know. That’s all there is now.

Just you.

And Joel. 

Joel, who was pulling away more and more with every passing second. His hesitant gaze on you lands regretful and forlorn.

Eventually up in the tree you're able to see far enough to know there's a camp of people further down the forest, so when you’re back down Joel decides on a detour that leads you both far in the opposite direction not wanting to take any risks. Your new boots are finally starting to rub after hours and hours of walking - nothing good lasts forever. You wonder if the person they belonged to before you ever got to wear them, if you shared the pain of blisters from the same shoes. If the people in that house used to go hiking in this vast forest every weekend. You wonder if they are dead now too, or just trying desperately to survive. Are they trying to make it back to their home, to find the memories they’d left behind?

You'd go home. You would. If you ever could. It's too far now, too dangerous and too much to ever think you could make it there. Besides, what would you do when you got there? Hope you had anything of yours left? Let yourself drown in the pain of distant memories, of things you knew you’d never get back? But there were things, all these trinkets you wanted to hold to your heart now you have nothing else. Photos; pictures printed and framed or posted on your walls with sticky tack since you were a teenager. Family and friends and pets and all the things you have lost. The things you’d never, ever get back.

The silence consumes you and you think you’d rather wallow in your grief and misery back at the place where you were once happy, instead of being here where your longing and guilt are driving you to insanity with every ticking second. You miss talking, you miss having a friend. She was everything you ever needed in life, she was the only thing that had made you happy in the years since the world ended. You need that, and you know Joel won’t give you any of the things you need. He doesn’t want to know you any more than he has now. You can’t see past his actions back at the house and he can’t see you in any way other than shamefully anymore.

You don’t even know what to say to him now. So you just walk, and ignore the aching and misery consuming you whole.

It’s a few hours later and your feet are starting to bleed through your socks, because all good things must come to an end in this empty horror of a world. Joel finally decides it’s time to stop and make camp. It’s getting dark after all and there’s the opportunity for cover while you’re still under the protection of the vast forest - you’re nearly at the edge now. 

“This should work” he mutters more to himself than you as he looks over the spot you’ve stopped at.

He briefly glances at you and it’s nothing but it’s more than he’s given you in hours so it makes you feel a little glint of that spark from before again. What if you just kissed him again, the way he let you before? Would he stop you? You know he likely would, but it doesn’t stop you wanting to try.

Like he knows, he’s stepping further from you acting like he’s inspecting the site he’s picked. There’s nothing to inspect - it’s a patch of mossy forest floor with a large rock on one side and what looks like an ancient tree on the other. You watch him momentarily and feel that misery all over. Touch would solve it all. His touch would solve everything just like it did before. The darkness above the trees could hold a secret if he could just give you something, a tiny thing to keep your sadness at bay.

And yet you are both wordless as you set up the small camp; no fire - that would potentially draw attention and the woods are never an entirely safe place to be - just your sleeping bags set up with an arm's length between the two like he’s worried you’ll somehow get the wrong idea if he gives you even the possibility of touching him again.

“Here” He mutters when you’re both sitting down and you almost laugh with the ridiculousness of how hard he’s trying to not even give you his gaze anymore. He hands you some of the jerky that’s been wrapped in his pack for a while. It’s dry and hard.

“We got all that stuff from the house” 

“Gonna split it, when we…” He mutters without finishing his sentence.

“Oh”

When we go our separate ways. That’s what he meant and he doesn’t have to say it. He’s gonna leave you. Leave you completely alone.

“You know where you’re gonna go?” Joel asks and maybe there’s the hint of guilt in his voice but more likely you’re imagining it.

Tears prick hot in your eyes and you try to blink them away. All this time you’d done so well at not letting him see you cry; the tears from your loss and your grief had only once fallen in his sight and now you were feeling them fall down your cheeks right in front of him all because he was finally sending you on your way.

Stupid. You’re so stupid. It was only ever temporary and he’d made it so clear he didn’t want anything from you. He was just doing a sad, lost person a momentary favor but you’d lost sight of that completely after these last couple days. The way he had kissed you…the way you know it would’ve gone further yesterday if there hadn’t been an interruption…but none of it means a thing in the wake of his words.

He’s looking at you now. Of course this would be the moment he finally decides to turn those beautiful eyes back on you - you can feel the weight of his gaze on your face and you want it to be dark and lustful like before but when you look over at him he’s frowning. You sniffle and clear your throat, and finally give him an answer.

“I- I want to go home” You say so sadly and his brow knits in confusion for a moment before he understands.

“You think that’s a good idea?” Joel sounds more judgemental than he probably means to. He’s still watching you, but he never addresses the tears that are silently falling from your sad eyes.

You shake your head and sigh. Chewing on the last of the jerky for a bit and it makes you feel sick. His gaze burns you now, like it’s melting through the cold of him ignoring you all day and scorching at your flesh. Why won’t he stop staring? Why suddenly is he so intent on giving you all this attention? Does he just pity you that much?

He’s still eating slowly when you lie down on your sleeping bag, staring up at the trees and the night sky just above them. You’d spent nights like this watching the stars before - your heart pangs at the memory and you feel bile rise up in your throat for a moment before you screw your eyes shut tight enough to see the dance of colourful light behind your lids.

“Do you remember what it’s like to be happy?” Your voice is a whisper, it shakes as you shove that memory back down.

You open your eyes and turn your head in time to see Joel's sudden pained look and the shake of his head. You can feel the misery around him like it’s an aura. That only makes your heart hurt more. Damn it, why does he have to make you feel more? It’s always those eyes; he can make himself as hard and distant as he wants but his beautiful brown eyes betray him every single time

“Yeah. Well, I do. I remember. I remember living” If it wasn’t clear you were crying before it’s obvious you are now, you sniffle and wipe tears that race from the corners of your eyes into your hair.

Joel remains quiet for a while after that. Perhaps he just doesn’t know what to say, or perhaps he’s trying not to comfort you. The trees above the two of you wave gently in a breeze that rushes quietly through the forest, and the stars above them shine like they always have - unchanged by the death of this world and the screaming of your souls. Between you and Joel there is a blanket of grief and despair and both of you seem to be wrapping yourselves tighter in it at every turn.

Eventually he clears his throat and there’s a slight shift in Joel’s body, angling more towards you. It makes you bolder - like before - and you reach your hand between your two sleeping bags. Just lay it there between the two of you.

“I don’t want to remember, Joel. Not right now. I just want to feel something else” 

He rubs his watering eyes and sighs deeply. He is wavering, you can tell. He’s holding back but there’s the twitch of his hands as he looks at you lying there and he slowly reaches out - rough, calloused and warm hand encompassing yours slowly. He lets out a long breath.

“It’s not gonna help. I- I’m not gonna help you like you need. Nothing’s that simple. I should know…”

“You’re scared”

“Maybe” Joel shrugs. 

His hand holds yours a little tighter. You’re still crying silent tears that glisten on your face in the starlight.

“Don’t you feel alone? Don’t you just feel so fucking alone all the time? Why do we have to feel alone, when we’re here together?” You’re actually pleading now. It’s pathetic really but you just need the incessant heartache to stop for even a moment.

Joel hums low and gives you a long stare. His eyes soften more. There’s a shred more sympathy than there has been and it’s enough for your body to ignite with that burning hope just like last time.

“Fuck” He mutters, and then “Come here” and he is letting go of your hand and laying on his side on the sleeping bag, it seems reluctant but he’s inviting you to him and you’re almost embarrassed when you move in a heartbeat and close that gap between you and him.

Your breath catches when you lie beside him on your side and his body curls around yours, his arm over you and he holds your hand again. He’s warm like a comforting blanket - it feels almost like he’s protecting you the way he holds you close. It’s the closest you’ve ever been; even when he’d kissed you, when he’d touched you he’d kept a distance. You had never gotten to feel all of his body against you like this. Only in your hopeless dreaming. His breath tickles on the back of your neck and the warmth of it lingers, his heart beating steady where his chest presses against your back. He lets out a nearly silent sigh that makes you think he’s feeling the same thing as you. 

You are not alone.

For a while it’s nothing, and Joel starts to think you’re sleeping. Your breathing is steady just like his and those sweet little sighs could just be the slumber taking hold. You don’t move and he’s so afraid to make even the slightest change to the position lest he starts you on that downward spiral again.

He knows it’s a mistake. Such a big mistake to let you feel close to him. It is only going to make everything worse in the long run but your words ring so true in his mind - he has been so damn alone. Ever since…for too long. He’s been alone. You draw him in like a magnet; a strange and shameful comfort that he’s denied himself all these years.

Maybe it’ll be fine. Maybe it’ll just be this, nothing more and nothing less. No guilt. No attachment. Maybe you’ll leave willingly and he’ll never once think about this moment again and neither will you. Maybe. 

He murmurs your name softly and buries his face against your neck. He just wants to feel. Something. It’s wrong. He’s leading you on. But he wants to escape his loneliness just as much as you want to escape your pain.

He hears the smallest moan escape you like a breath and it makes him tighten his arm around you a little, because it brings him back to what happened before. How he’d touched you, how he’d felt you. There’s a stirring in him at the memory. You both feel it.

Joel knows you’re not asleep now, your breathing is less steady and your hand squeezes his a little.

“Don’t let me feel alone” You murmur and fuck Joel wants to let that base part of himself take control all over again.

He hesitates but only for a second. 

“I won’t”

And then he’s turning your head, and he’s kissing you.

There’s a moment of guilt that rises from your chest slowly, but it’s gone again the moment your lips meet his.

It's not like the first kiss. It's not even like the kisses in the kitchen when he'd pressed you up against the fridge and touched you. It's not like any kiss you've ever felt; it's urgent and desperate but not forceful or rough - there's a subtle tenderness behind it like he's really genuinely trying to give you that feeling of togetherness you crave so much.

It makes your mind go blank after a moment, when you feel his tongue and he’s asking for a permission which you grant without a moment of hesitation. It makes you forget where you are, who you are, what you've been through. 

He's good at that. Making you forget.

He's good at it all.

He kisses you harder when you open your mouth to him and it turns from tender to intense. It becomes more. More and more of him and you and it's what you've thought about all day. Like he really wants you. You're still on your side with your head turned and him over you, your back pressed against his chest and his subtle shift of hips against your ass makes your breath hitch. 

Oh, he wants you. And you want him. 

And what else matters?

“Joel…” you whimper. Sickly sweet and full of urgency. 

“Yeah, I know,” He says. 

There’s something else there, something you don’t want to hear. Something he doesn’t want to share. He shakes it away in a moment of a blink. He’s well versed in brushing away those moments. You need to learn it from him.

“I know” He says again, and he kisses you once more. Your lips lock in a moment that fans the flames that have been burning all this time; these weeks the two of you have been traveling together, these moments you have been sharing that are more than just moments. He stokes the coals of your desire with his mouth on yours and then down, down. To your cheek, your jaw, he’s over you and pressing you on to your back half on the cold ground as his lips meet your neck and you keen in some kind of desperation to be alight with his touch again.

Your hands traverse the broad expanse of his chest, clinging to the rough fabric of his shirt as he kisses the spot right under your ear that makes your soul leave you for a moment.

“You won’t stop this time?” You ponder, looking for a promise

“No”.

Simple, straight. Joel. He needs it. You know it’s been a while, you can tell by the way his hot mouth latches on to your soft flesh as he ruts against you like he’s already chasing a release he’s waited too long for.

“Doesn’t mean anythin’, right?”

“Doesn’t mean anything,” you repeat. 

He means it. Do you?

“Fuck” He groans, deep and guttural when your wandering hands reach lower. It’s all so urgent. There’s no moment for softness. It’s lustful and intentional and greedy. Teeth and nails and need. No moment to waste as your nimble fingers find the opening of his faded jeans and make their way inside.

He’s still exploring with demanding grunts of appreciation at the taste of your skin. He’d liked it before. He likes it more now, after the long day of toil. You’re intoxicating in all the ways he never knew how to resist.

You think he feels the same as you. It’s been so long. You can’t remember the last time you felt such intimate touch, before Joel. It’s more addicting now than it ever was back then as his fingertips dance with burning brushes against the skin under your shirt.

There are no memories. No pain. No distant threat. No trees. No breeze. No stars. Just him and you in this blank space you have created for yourselves - outside of time and reality. It is a kiss that takes away life, that takes away loneliness. His touch breathes hope into you that you’d only ever felt with…no. It’s just him and you and nothing else.

Just that.

Your fingers trace down, past where buttons are undone and the zipper is open. You touch him, a slight squeeze that makes his breath hitch so damn gorgeously you feel it in your core.

He’s big. God, he’s big and he’s hard and it’s for you. It’s for you.

He breathes out and grits his teeth as you feel him, he has to stop kissing you for a moment as you ease his pants down and free his hardened length from its confines. He’s not gonna tell you to stop. Neither of you are going to end this until it has to be ended, you know that when you look in his eyes and they are dazed with lust and desire that he’s been holding back for too long.

There’s no call for modesty here in this darkened patch of forest floor where the only sounds are the rustle of leaves and your panting breaths. He watches you with a knitted brow trying so goddamn hard to hold on to at least a bit of himself when you lewdly spit into your hand and wrap it around his thick length.

“Shit” Joel grits his teeth, pressing his forehead against your shoulder. He murmurs your name. It’s never sounded as good as it does when spoken by him like that. Your hand moves, thumb swiping his leaking tip to smear on him. He feels good in your hand, heavy and smooth and he’s already shaking.

“I…sweetheart, I can’t…”

“Yeah, you can” You shush him with your lips against his, oddly soft and caring in this moment of heady lust.

“No I mean it’s…fuck” Joel pants out, his voice a gruff whisper that tickles your skin and makes you clench “Haven’t had- I can’t fu-” words tumble from his lips to the side of your neck as he devolves into mumbles you can’t quite make out. He trembles and bites back a loud groan, before spilling warm and sticky onto your fingers.

“Sorry” He murmurs with heavy breath and it’s the sweetest fucking thing in the world from this man who has been pushing you away for what feels like eternity.

Ah, you make sense of the words now.

“Haven’t had anyone touch you in a while?” You say, biting your lip as you look at him - he takes your breath away as the moonlight catches on the glint of his eyes, the trickle of sweat down his brow. His eyes are big and brown and there’s an apology in them that you don’t need.

“It’s okay. It’s okay” You assure with a soft smile. You kiss him, a sweet peck on the lips which he returns with another. It feels almost too intimate and you know you’re falling to somewhere you can’t crawl out of.

For a beat there’s a silence; Joel zips his fly and is catching his breath after his release whilst you drag your lips from his and down to his chin then his jaw. Drowning in the scent and taste of him. He is like nothing you’ve ever known and you want to be devoured by his presence.

You’re making do with wiping your hand off on your trousers when he moves you, pressing you down on to your back fully. There’s a hunger in him. He is starved and he craves. You shiver at that; he can slip from one moment to another like a changeling. His demeanour seems to shift with the wind.

“Gonna make it up to you, darlin’” He whispers with a dark desire as he goes back to kissing your neck and his hand moves down your body and to the button of your pants. Your mind flashes back to before - the way he’d made you shake back in the house - and your cunt throbs with need for that again. For him to take away your mind and your breath and your sanity if he wants.

You need him in ways you cannot fathom.

“Oh god”  You moan as he cups you through your underwear, mouth still attacking the curve where your neck meets your shoulder. 

You’re ready to feel that way again. And you’re about to beg him not to tease you when he pulls his hand away and detaches from your neck.

“Joel” the whine is so needy you should be embarrassed but you’re not capable of feeling that at the moment.

He shushes you softly and finishes unfastening your jeans, as he kneels between your legs. And then he’s taking them off; your jeans and underwear pulled down to your ankles and off, tossed to the side. He’s a man on a mission, and he licks his lips as he nudges your legs apart further and looks down at you.

Fuck. You might come from the sight alone. God…is he going to…

Joels calloused hands slide up your thighs and to your lower stomach and he settles himself right between your spread legs. You can’t look at him down there like that.

“This okay?” He asks, holding on to your thigh with one large hand while the other slips up under your shirt to palm at your warm skin.

You have to let out a huffed laugh at that. It’s definitely okay. It’s more than okay.

“Mhm” You answer, lips pressed together and you look up at the stars instead of the beautiful man currently kissing your inner thigh. Before he had wanted nothing to do with you and now he seems to want everything with you, you’d have whiplash if your brain wasn’t slowly melting out of your ear at the feel of his lips dragging higher.

He’s taking it so. So slow. Palming your breast now and kissing the other thigh You’re going to combust and be left nothing but a pile of embers if he keeps this up. You need so deeply that it hurts.

You card your fingers through his hair. It’s surprisingly soft and the sensation adds to the tension in you. He grunts as you give a little tug, but you think he gets the message without you having to use your words, your words probably wouldn’t make sense in this moment.

“Oh!” you gasp. 

Yes, he proves that he got the message loud and clear as he’s parting you with his tongue and licking a stripe that ends at your clit and makes your eyes roll back. He’s good.

He tastes you and moans deep at it. His tongue swipes again against your clit and your grip in his hair tightens a bit again but he doesn’t seem to mind or even notice as he explores and delves deeper. He swirls against your entrance, and then presses in for a moment and you’re going to lose it completely.

The noise of your whines and whimpers increase, a muffled cry against your hand as he moves up again and sucks against your clit with a softness which quickly becomes much more fervent when you respond well. You buck your hips against his face, so he holds one strong arm across you as he continues to alternate between using his tongue and his mouth to bring you closer.

Your mind is all but scrambled with the way you feel. You haven’t had anything like this in so long and he’s fulfilling needs you had almost forgotten you had. He’s not just giving you pleasure, he’s giving you back something you thought you’d lost. He’s making you feel on fire in every way possible; burning skin on burning skin, scorching heat between your legs and deep in your belly.

You're winding, tightening, as he continues. He delves a thick finger in to you and then another as he focuses his mouth on your sensitive bud, listening to the sounds of your heavy breath and knowing he’s doing right.

“Joel…Joel you’re…yes, like that…” You moan too loud, Joel grunts against you with a light slap to the thigh. Keep it down. Even now he’s aware, does he ever really let himself go fully?

Right, you’re out in the open. It feels like you’re in a world of just you and him…you have to try and keep some kind of sanity as he makes you see the stars behind your lids. It’s almost impossible, biting your lip to try and quiet yourself.

It’s…it’s incredible. The way his tongue moves. The crook of his fingers inside you. The pressure in you when he purses his lips around your clit. Your body is too hot, alive, more alive than you’ve felt in weeks. Too alive, all at once.

“Oh god…I’m…it’s….please…” babbles of incoherence which earn you a pinch to your skin, but he doesn’t let up on his ministrations. He doesn’t give you a chance to calm down.

Suddenly, your body ignites as the tight coil in your stomach snaps and it’s like there’s no yesterday, no tomorrow. You writhe, hips bucking, Joel holding you down and continuing until the very last moment of your orgasm. You’ve come before, of course, even if not with a partner in a while you’ve known this feeling many times and yet it’s like something you’ve never fully had before. He’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.

Fuck, your eyes are shut tight as you ride out the waves. Little aftershocks that make your body shiver. You can feel him - a final kiss to your clit, another to your inner right thigh and then he’s raising up, moving away from you and you can hear him catching his own breath like he nearly drowned in you.

“Jesus” You groan, limp and a mess. He breathes out a quiet, pleased laugh and you finally open your eyes and try to adjust them to see his face again. 

He’s looking at you. He’s all lines and splotches and coloured lights but he’s looking at you with something like a smile. 

Everything is blurred.

The lines are blurred. What does it mean? What does that soft kiss he places against your lips now actually mean? You feel sluggish from the climax but somehow your mind is racing still despite it. The lines are so damn blurred and it’s going to make you crazy, it’s going to make you lose it all.

“Alright?” He asks softly as he helps you put on your underwear and jeans again. Where did all his uncaring gruffness go? When will it come back and how will you live when it does?

“y-yeah…I think…yeah” You mutter dumbly. “Joel, I-”

Whatever you were going to say is cut off. He lays beside you again, arm going right around you pulling you flush against his chest. Your heart won't stop racing.

“You still feel alone?” Joel whispers in a deep grumble against your ear. You can feel it come from his chest. You shudder helplessly.

You shake your head. There’s a feeling of exhaustion from the day's movement settling in and you succumb to it swiftly, resting your head down on him and letting your breathing match to his. Letting him take you over completely.

No, you’re not lonely.

This fate is worse than loneliness.

[secularprolifeconspectus]

You were once a sperm.

Not really. But let's pretend you were for the sake of the argument, to debunk the pro-choice claim that if zygotes are people, then gametes must be people as well.

First for background, where does this claim come from? It stems from the idea that human beings cannot begin actualizing their potential as people until the material is formed that makes the manifestation of human cognition possible. In other words, until the brain is "born" so that a self-conscious mind may develop, humans are merely potential people.

For instance, premature infants don't have self-consciousness, but we give them the same rights as people, because they have the potential of people. We treat a premie as an actual person because we know that right now they are making their potential into their reality.

Premies actively manifest their potential in their present existence, which is called actualization. If we just protect and sustain them, then over time they will develop, ultimately reaching a target state of being in which we can definitely recognize them as actual people. They have potentiality, also known as active potential.

This is where pro-lifers will insist, but brain birth is not where the process of actualization begins! It's an arbitrary milestone along the continuum of development! If a premie who has undergone brain birth has the potential of a person, then so does the embryo from which the mind emerges!

And that's when pro-choicers will intuitively follow something like this line of reasoning: but zygotes are single-celled embryos, and they're not that different from sperm cells, and they come from sperm cells, so fertilization is also an arbitrary milestone! They'll then retort, if we must pick a milestone, it makes more sense to pick brain birth, because at least it's not just an empty body shell with no potential for a mind.

It's not a bad argument. In fact, on the surface, it appears common sense, so much so that anyone who thinks differently MUST be deluding themselves with some made-up belief, right? They can't prove their case, right?

Wrong. But I'm not going there yet. Let's go back to where we started and just accept hypothetically that the pro-choice position is right, and if you were once a zygote, then you were also once a lone sperm, because your zygote came from your sperm, right?

But where did your zygote come from? A germ cell. So you were a germ cell before you were a sperm. And because you are everything that once carried the potential of becoming you, you must have been an oocyte too. And you must also have been what the germ cells came from, which is your parents. So you were your parents.

This seems absurd! Surely, you think, this absurdity is only more proof that the pro-life position is untenable. But you'd be wrong about that, because this is only proof that you're wrong about what the pro-life position is.

To explain why, we have to examine the difference between possibility and potentiality, or between passive and active potential. And to best do that, let's continue to pretend you were once a sperm.

As a sperm, you had nearly unlimited potential. Every time your father interacted with a new female with a different set of ova you could fertilize, infinite potential paths into the future were generated, and your horizons expanded. Once you were ejaculated into your mother, anything that happened to you could open alternatives for your ultimate destiny, and prove consequential to any of an indefinite set of individuals.

As a fully developed sperm, you had already attained your peak form, and now you could become anyone. You were static, and your sole goal was to propel yourself forward. Your potential for progress was bounded by the space you happened to exist within, and your potential for change was constrained to your proximity to an ovum. If and when you changed, you'd cease to exist.

You could not activate your potential independently, so your potential was merely hypothetical possibilities. It was passive potential. The nature of your potential was generative, broadening your set of possible futures with every spatial relation. If kept alive and not killed, you would not self-actualize into a particular individual. You could be anyone.

By design of the process you were a part of — not of the kind of thing you are — you were impeded by your ovum. When you fertilized your ovum, the material of your sperm disintegrated and your RNA integrated to become DNA. You were no longer a part of your parent's bodies. You transformed into a fertilized egg, a zygote, a single-celled embryo: a new organism.

At this point many pro-lifers will exclaim — aha, proof! This is the radical change of nature needed to prove that your potentiality changed. It was at this moment that your latent humanity emerged, and you began the process of attaining its evident manifestation.

And they're wrong. This proves WHY your nature changed, but does nothing to prove HOW it did so do that. So it's not necessarily that they've picked the wrong milestone for the beginning of the process of actualization; it's that they've picked it for insufficient reasons. To find sufficient reason, we must now imagine you were once a zygote.

As a zygote, your potential became more and more limited with each passing moment. Every interaction with your mother not only brought new opportunities, but also sealed your fate further, defining your life course. New potential paths into the future were eliminated, and your horizons contracted. Once gastrulation determined which of four potential twin embryos you would be, your individual identity was set in stone. Anything that happened to you would be consequential to a finite set of individuals.

Now you were just some single one. You were dynamic, and your goal was to propel yourself to follow a body plan – to self-orchestrate your development. Your potential for progress was restricted by the time you happened to exist at, and your potential for change was chronic, inherent to your form by design of the kind of thing you are. You were constantly changing all on your own.

You would activate your potential independently, so you were actively attaining your peak form. It was active potential. The nature of your potential was eliminative, narrowing your set of possible futures with every temporal relation. If kept alive and not killed, you would self-actualize into a particular individual. You would be someone.

When you were a zygote, you would be someone in particular in the future, so you already were a specific someone now, and always would be. As a zygote, your material body constituted a whole and indivisible somebody. But when you were a sperm, you could become anyone, thus you were only ever no one. You were unspecific, a divisible part. Your material form constituted nobody. So actually, your sperm was never anybody, ergo it was never you.

Therefore, you were never a sperm.

So we've proven a sperm wasn't you, not just because sperms aren't organisms, and non-organisms typically aren't people. With that out of the way, finally, we can prove how a zygote was you, a person!

Earlier we found that in order to be a person, a human must be in a process of self-actualization, in which they actively manifest their potential to reach a target state of being – a peak form. The debate was therefore, when does such a process begin? Does it begin with the materialization of the brain, or the organism, or another milestone altogether? Let's analyze the process of actualization and see if it offers any hints.

Logic offers us three possible modes of manifesting latent potential into evident form: attainment, retainment, and reattainment. In other words, you're always either gaining, keeping, or getting back the version of you in which others best relate to you as a fellow person. If you stop self-actualizing, then your relation to humanity as kin becomes passive, you lose your active potential – your potentiality – and you've died.

And so we return to the question at hand: when does this potentiality begin? We know a premie is attaining the best version of themself. We also know for certain they are enminding – attaining a mind – because they have the brain material to do so. Now, based on what we imagined when you were a zygote earlier, we can also surmise that a zygote is attaining a best self – or, enselfing. Rationally, both zygotes and premies actually have potentiality.

But doesn't that just bring us back to the original problem? Because if we are to say that a zygote has potentiality, then who's to say that a sperm doesn't have it as well? Aren't sperm also in the process of attaining humanity? Did I walk you in a circle of reasoning?

Fortunately not. Remember we've already reasoned that sperm are broadening their potentials, while zygotes are narrowing their potentials. This means that sperm have passive potential – mere possibility – while zygotes have active potential – actual potentiality.

Further, actualization converts latent manifestations of potential to evident manifestations. Manifesting eliminates potential paths into the future by activating potential in the present. The process of attainment is a mode of manifesting that narrows potentials to a target state. Given that attainment is a process of narrowing, and the nature of the potential of sperm is a process of broadening, then it appears sperm are in a process contradictory to attainment.

That means, the physical nature of sperm is not only different from the physical nature of organisms, but the metaphysical process of sperm is paradoxical to that of embryos. Being paradoxical, it is impossible that sperm are actively attaining, and from this we may deduce that they do not actualize. At fertilization, the material of the gametes not only undergoes a marked shift in biological behavior, but also a paradigm shift in potential. Human gametes are unlike embryos because they are not manifesting humanity – but we are, so we are like embryos.

If the pro-choicers aren't totally lost yet, they're probably thinking, whoa buddy, hold your horses. I can think of a lot of reasons embryos are more like a brain-dead body than they are like us. For starters, they don't have a mind. Sure, they might be enselfing, but surely a being without a brain can't be enminding. Sure gametes don't have potentiality, but the potentiality to be a person must start at brain birth when the fetus gains the potential to have a mind.

Not so fast! You’re suggesting that when certain brain material arises, it will constitute the mind in the future. This would mean brain birth expands your potential infinitely. But didn’t we just find that attainment is a process of elimination of potentials? Then how can the process of attaining a mind start with an explosive generation of new potentials? This appears contradictory again!

Moreover, Dr. Thomas Verny states that “before the event of birth, before we have even had a glimmer of sight or sound in the womb, we record the experience and history of our lives in our cells,” and coined this process “bodywide memory”. Prior to your brain birth, the potentials for your mind were already being carved away by intrauterine stressors upon your body. This is distinct from epigenetics, in which stressors are inherited rather than imposed. The mental and physical health of your mom, as well as the impression of your dad’s health upon her, sculpted the path to how your mind is now.

This presents a new perspective to consider: the mind is a phenomenon that emerges as a consequence of a sequence of eliminations of potentials. This process began at fertilization, when your body began attaining your mind. Brain birth is just an arbitrary milestone, not just in the development of the fetus, but also along the continuum of your self-actualization.

Thus, your body began to enmind at fertilization. You, in all your potentiality – even the potential of your mind – emerged with your organism, a culmination of the possibility of two gametes. From thereon, you began eliminating potential as you set your course in life, defining your reality. Not only did the material that would constitute your mind begin making itself, but also the active potential that would define the boundaries of your individual mind began whittling itself down.

You, as a person, actually existed at conception. That's not arbitrary; it's the precise point at which the processes that define you began.

But the pro-choicer may still offer one last objection. Sure, they’ll concede, if I’d been aborted, I wouldn’t exist, in the same way as if my development had gone differently, or if my sperm fertilized a different ovum. That makes early human organisms more like sperm than people.

It’s true that had your sperm been bumped off its physical trajectory and into a different ovum, your present life course would not have been a possibility. That change would have caused your sperm’s future path to split toward new eventualities, and in this alternate reality, you as an individual never existed and that was not your sperm. The future would branch divergently into a set of indeterminate possibilities inconsistent with your conception. This is also how barrier contraception works: its physical diversion disintegrates most potential timelines of contact with an ovum.

In contrast, any change in your development could have set you on a completely different life course, eliminating your present timeline trajectory, and you’d not be the same version of the individual you are today. But abortion forces a merge of every potential future path upon a single eventuality: the dead version of you, which is a non-existent version of you. A set of indeterminate possible futures collapses convergently into the outcome consistent with abortion: your death. Abortion doesn’t prevent a potential version of you from coming to fruition; rather, it forcibly integrates all potentials to a reality in which you existed and now don’t, in the same way as killing a person.

This concludes my logical proof that the correct milestone for human personhood is fertilization. Embryos and fetuses are people. You don't have to have a sentient mind, or even a functional brain to be a person – you simply must have the active and inherent potential of getting one.

[da-gamingojichan]

Dick/Pussy Headcanons dropping when?

i wont lie guys i dont really know the variety of how genitalia can be different very well..... the most ive learned is when i went online and saw someone made a caard about their headcanons for the matusno brothers which included very detailed descriptions of each of their dicks (how i learned penises irl can have different amounts of curve) and their mental illness hcs (how i learned narcassism counts as a mental illness) and a bunch of other shit. but i have a little bit of headcanon for the characters i think a lot about

- germany has a penis that leans on the larger side and its terrible because he is never using it. its kinda ugly idk how because all genitals are ugly but he somehow has an ugly penis compared to other penises because germany is meant to be ugly to his core. it also turns super red like uncomfortably red (bright cherry red iphone 3) because i think he gets red really easily since hes freakishly pale. also his penis is abnormally sensitive but he doesnt know this because the only person to touch it is italy and italy has sex skills gifted by the lord so hes blessed because if anyone else gave him a handjob or blowie hed be like OWWW IT HURTS STAWP STAWP TOO HARD!!!!!

- italy has the most amazing awesomesauce pussy fucking ever. his pussy and strap on skills induce the same level of peace and prosperity as the shit those monks that live on the tops of mountains are aiming for. he literally has a talent thats gifted by god and it is in fact RIGHTEOUS of him to be banging bitches left and right because he needs to share his divine gift to the world. and thats why its fucking hilarious that hes wasting all this raw talent and perfect sex on hetalia "premature ejaculation king" germany. the mf that literally cant recieve a blow job without overstim because he always finishes before his penis makes contact with le mouf. germany would literally like anything from italy and italy is the sex god thats been cutrently saving our world from the nymphojinn. italy is the real life huniepop protagonist and hes retired to never have sex ever because his boyfriend is fucking scared and when he does its over with in 2 minutes.

- japan has a small penis. japanese men grower not show-er! i believe that japan wants to top but he never will because he cant be deadass enough to assert himself and say he wants to. also because if he tops the ship name has to have jap in it (IM JAPANESE I CAN SAY THE SLUR) and i think thats awesome and hilarious but people dont like that so hes banned from semeing forever because its racist. but i believe in his head he is a total kinky otaku sex freak who wants to seme so bad and use a jillion million sex toys you didnt even know could exist.

- prussia also has a slightly below average penis and hes very very very very very embarassed about it he will never admit its small he goes NO ITS GREAT AND MIGHTY OKAY. he calls his dick his "beautiful gleaming white saber of justice" sometimes and everybody fucking hates it. also its really sensitive so hes really picky about head and it pisses romano off because romano can tell when hes faking being comfortable (but it also would piss him off if prussia said his head wasnt good enough) and because of that he gives prussia head everytime they bang and its painful and prussia dreads it everytime and is like hahaha you dont have to if you dont want to... and romanos like "SHUT the fuck up and lay down you ungrateful piece of shit" but slowly he actually gets really fucking good and prussia likes it because hes refined his craft but now because prussia likes it romano stops and only gives head when prussia begs and pleads because giving head is disgusting.

- romano has a pretty good penis like idk what makes a penis pretty good. but its pretty good trust me on this guys its nothin to scoff at the ladies would love it if romano got any ladies (never ever). its regarded as a handsome penis i think like wow thats pretty good! its pretty average sized, maybe on the smaller end of the spectrum and that makes romano mad and incredibly insecure even though it doesnt really matter since romano is actually just a grower not a show-er. but yeah its good.

- benson regular show has a 6/10 gumhole.

[thesinglesjukebox]

KANE BROWN - "I CAN FEEL IT"

A sample that’s no stranger to you and me…

[5.18]

Taylor Alatorre: "Even though the song does draw a fair bit from Phil Collins's 1981 song, the tempo is much faster."[1] [1]

Ian Mathers: As is often the case with modern pop country, "I Can Feel It" evokes a rural area; here, it's the Uncanny Valley. [2]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: So dumb! I respect it more for not being coy about using its big sample – Kane Brown and Dann Huff (who actually played on hits from Phil Collins' contemporaries, wtf) hit that big drum fill button over and over again, especially during the second half of "I Can Feel It." Worst part is that it works every time – this is a meta-level arena jam, a crass play that goes beyond the normal nostalgia-worship of so much of the contemporary pop landscape (secularly, across nearly all subgenres in 2024) by virtue of sheer shamelessness. [6]

Isabel Cole: Nothing we haven't heard before, more literally than usual, and obviously it's dumb, but sometimes you don't want smart, you know? It hits all its marks cleanly, and I like the weirdly roiling, tempestuous drama the track brings to a lightweight song about a drunken hookup (possibly why the hilariously incongruous video contains neither whiskey nor dancing — just a mechanic with a past and a dream). [7]

Katherine St. Asaph: The annoying hackwork here isn't the Phil Collins sample. It's that songwriting affectation, rampant in modern country, of awkwardly wording things that are phrases -- in this case "this is turning into a we-should-probably-get-up-out-of-here." (Why does this exist? Is there a thinkpiece?) The Phil Collins sample is, in fact, what makes this not suck. [7]

Mark Sinker: Time for every single song ever released to get its talking-point kinda-cover version. Time for “Weird” Al to become a worm-man god-emperor and rule over the charts for 3,500 years. A Million Golden Hits on the Golden Path.  [5]

Alfred Soto: Kane Brown shows the apparently infinite ways in which "In the Air Tonight" adapts itself to whatever sized foot you stick into it: instead of a cheatin' anthem, "I Can Feel It" focuses on the nervousness of would-be lovers courtin' on the dance floor. Almost everything works except for the guitar solo, an example of premature ejaculation. [7]

TA Inskeep: Theoretically this fusion of banjo, big-ass drums, and an interpolation of Phil Collins' most iconic song should be a lot of fun -- and Brown's winking voice would seem to be the right fit for it. But it all feels awfully forced, especially when Brown actually sings that he "can feel it coming in the air tonight" in the bridge. It's too obvious by half, not remotely country save for that banjo (which would be fine except that it's being billed as, y'know, country), and even though it's a clever idea, never fully gels.  [4]

John S. Quinn-Puerta: I'm tired of interpolations that aren't interested in engaging with their source. It's just so blandly tactical to put on the trappings of a hit to ensure the boring ditty that you've done ten ways to Sunday gets airplay.  [3]

Hannah Jocelyn: Everyone misses the kicks between the toms when they do “In the Air Tonight”! That's what makes it distinctive! "One Mississippi" was legitimately incredible (would have been a [10] from me) and a massive step up, this is trying to be some kind of epic tough country song but that clashes with the uninspired, lovelorn lyrics. By the way, Kane, you’re no mister Kingston. [5]

Nortey Dowuona: Gabe Foust, songwriter/producer for "Trailer Park Barbie" and "Bake It," lets Aaron Sterling handle the drums, and man, does he handle them. His take on Phil Collins's iconic fill kicks the song in the ass and brings it swimming up to Kane's deep baritone, buoying it as the second verse begins, keeping the song steady as Rob McNelley's seething solo dives below the chorus and surfaces on the bridge. The song relies less on the kick of "here's the Phil Collins drum fill, please clap" and more on "here's Kane Brown using one of the best baritones in popular music; leave with him and go steal that money." And Brown is in fine form; his quick trot then strolling delivery of the first verse snatches you up and leads so smoothly into the chorus that you are swept away, your hair flying in the wind, your eyes full of the moon before you can blink. The bass, played by Mark Hill (yes, that Mark Hill !!!?) comfortably purrs below, interlocking with the kick. It pushes Brown into picking up the pace at first, then smoothing out and sliding during the chorus. He delivers spurts of melisma briefly but remains in control of his voice despite the rising waves of the mix. It drifts away into the sky, but you're on a string, lazily drifting behind it. [10]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[allareuniqueblogs]

Does Female Pre-Ejaculation Exist?

Exploring Female Sexual Response

1. Understanding Female Sexual Response

Female sexual response is more complex than the male cycle. While men have a clear pre-ejaculatory phase, women experience increased blood flow and vaginal lubrication during arousal. This lubrication serves to prepare for intercourse but isn't the same as male pre-ejaculation.

2. Is There a Female Equivalent?

There isn't a direct female counterpart to male pre-ejaculation. The secretion of fluid during arousal is primarily for comfort, not conception. Sexologists view female sexual arousal as a complex process influenced by various factors, making it different from male pre-ejaculation.

3. Addressing Misconceptions

Some women worry about their body's response during arousal. Consulting a sex therapist can help clarify that natural lubrication is a healthy part of the process and not premature ejaculation. Understanding these changes can lead to a more fulfilling sexual experience.

Embracing Female Sexual Health

While female pre-ejaculation doesn’t exist in the same way as in males, understanding and embracing the female sexual response is key to a healthy sexual life.

[imready4u2]

men and sex

Women feel intimacy and closeness when they talk, touch, and share their thoughts and feelings with a loved one. They are usually more interested in intimacy than in sex of and for itself.

A feeling of intimate closeness takes time to develop. Therefore, women want to take their time with a relationship. They want to go through the stages of getting to know the man, becoming friends, touching, kissing, hugging and showing affection. Eventually they get around to sex when they feel closeness and believe they are in love.

If women typically require closeness and intimacy before they experience "good sex," does that mean they can't and won't have sex before they feel intimate? No, it means that sex is often not satisfying, even when orgasm takes place, without that close feeling.

When some women feel pressure to have sex before they are ready, they think, They might even develop resentments toward men in general.

Men, Sex and Feelings

Women are probably even more of a puzzle to men than men are to women. Even though women are important to men, they live in this mysterious other world of menses and babies and rampant emotions and even tears that men can't or don't want to understand.

This man who is notoriously poor at figuring out his own feelings is even worse at figuring out the feelings of a woman. Just deciding what a woman wants from him in general is fraught with danger.

Many men see sex, though, as a way to get close to women, and possibly, even a way to please them. The fact that they are usually wrong, of course, doesn't stop a man from thinking sex can make everything right with his woman. A cure-all of great proportions... "All she needs is a good f___ ," is a common solution to male - female problems for many men.

Very seldom is that what she needs but that is another story...

"Don't Push Me So Hard For Sex" Women Want Time Before Sex

One young woman told me that she has to have time before sex to get to know and trust a man. She has to see him in different situations, with different people, and talk to him for hours before she will "allow" herself to even consider sex.

She continued, "One guy I dated pushed so hard for sex, that I gave in before I was ready. But that made sex basically unsatisfying. Even though chemistry was there at first, I lost interest sexually. Once I decided he wasn't a good lover, I was ready to move on. We never gave real love a chance."

Another women agreed that time is necessary to feel a real desire for sex. She said, "If a man pushes me to sex too quickly, the relationship rarely gets much further than a few trips to bed. Then they (men) are hurt and can't understand why I don't stay in love with them. They don't get it-I never was in love with them."

Most women agree that men who push for sex before the woman is ready had better be really good in bed. Unfortunately, this is unlikely to happen.

For whatever reason, women are a diverse group in terms of what produces pleasurable sex. It is a rare man that can be a good lover to a woman without a certain amount of experience with that particular woman.

Women can forgive fumbling, partial or non-existent erections, and premature ejaculations when they are in love. They can even call up a certain acting ability in the name of love. But when love has not been given the time it takes to grow for the woman, she often labels the man a poor lover and the relationship is stillborn in the bedroom.

Some women learn to look at sexual-timing incompatibilities with humor. One lady said, "I used to resent being pushed for sex. Now I get amused at all these guys and their gropings. Most of them end up providing me with a few funny stories to tell my girlfriends. I certainly don't fall in love with them, but I don't get mad at them anymore either."

And still others avoid sex. These women feel if they put themselves in the position to get what they want: affection, touching, and cuddling, they will have to do battle not to have sex.

So some women do without desired affection, particularly in the beginning of a relationship, to avoid pressure to have sex.

Why Women and Men Have Different Sex Timeframes

How can women and men have such different timeframes for the beginning of sex in a relationship? Two reasons stand out:

Our society teaches females that "nice girls don't." When society has taught this lesson for years, it is hard to suddenly feel sexual, even when hormones start raging in adolescence.

And, probably because of the lessons of their youth, women reach their sexual peak in their mid-to-late thirties or even later, rather than when teen-age hormones first kick-in.

Age is a leveler

As men and women get older, women usually become more interested in sex for the sake of sex, and most men learn to curb some of their sexual impatience, giving closeness and love a chance to flourish. So, for many single men and women, it can be true: love and sex are both more wonderful the second time around.

Without a doubt, the sexual revolution changed the sex scene for women. Fewer virgins at marriage; more women with multiple sex partners; more women having affairs; more women having sex openly, more women opting for sex only rather than marriage, etc.

Some women felt this was a change for the better. Others saw it as unfavorable.

The Changing Sexual Attitudes and Behaviors of Women

Working outside the home also changed women's attitudes toward sex.

The Janus Report on Sexual Behavior by Samuel Janus, Ph.D. and Cynthia Janus, M.D., copyright 1993, had some eye-opening observations along this line. They wrote, "Our study has documented many levels of sexual and social changes for both women and men in the early 1990s, but we acknowledge that women's, not men's, sexual attitudes and behavior have drastically changed within the past two decades.

"The enormous and ongoing change in women's social and sex lives has separated women into entirely different groups."

The Janus' write, "Work-life and a workplace outside the home have given a new focus to many women's lifestyles. The innovations transcend income earned or the nature of the work performed; more significantly, they involve a personal sense of identity that sets these women apart."

They continued, "In the women-C (career women) and the women-H (homemaker women) groups, we found that we had two distinctly different populations, regarding sex life and life-style in general.

"Women who work part-time outside the home offered responses that were almost always between those of the women-C and women-H groups."

Interesting

But more interesting still was another observation of The Janus Report, "One of the most striking indications of our data involves the unprecedented levels of agreement between men and women-C (those who work full-time outside of the home), as compared to women-H, who do not work outside of the home at all. New levels of sexual affinity and relatedness can also be observed, in sharp contrast to the stereotypical sexual roles men and women have had assigned to them in the past."

They concluded, "No longer does the man alone decide the mode of sexual gratification; most often, the couple decides together."

The sexual revolution was followed by the reality of Herpes and AIDS and the need for safe sex. Many experts predicted a slow down for sex in general and certainly a slow down for those out in the less-safe singles' world.

Dr. and Dr. Janus found the experts were wrong.

They reported, "Approximately one-quarter of the men (24%) and one-fifth of the women (20%) had much more sex activity. When we combined sex activity."

They continued, "Perhaps not too surprisingly, the homemakers increased their sexual activity more than the career women did (43% versus 37%). We felt justified in assuming that more homemakers than career women were in ongoing monogamous relationships."

Certainly a major sexual change has taken place in American society. Assertiveness regarding the "when, where, and why" of sex rather than passive acquiescence to sex is now a prerogative exercised by many American women.

If the Janus' observations are accurate, much of this sexual change was brought about by women taking jobs outside the home and acquiring a heightened sense of personal identity.

[unitedmeds]

WHAT IS TADAPOX 80MG?

WHAT IS TADAPOX 80MG?

Tadapox 80mg is a combination of Tadalafil 20 & Dapoxetine 60 used in men for the treatment of erectile dysfunction & premature ejaculation. Tadapox 80mg (Tadalafil 20mg + Dapoxetine 60mg) is a potent PDE-5 Inhibitor used to achieve long lasting erection during intercourse in men with erectile dysfunction / premature ejaculation. It works to promote the blood flow to the penis by expanding & relaxing the blood vessels & smooth muscles exists in the penile region.

Tadalafil present in Tadapox 80mg works by enhancing the blood flow to the male genitalia. It relaxes the smooth muscles in the penile region and widens blood arteries for better blood flow to the penis. Tadalafil also inhibits the erection preventive enzyme – PDE5 for the erection to remain firm and erect throughout the sexual intercourse.

Dapoxetine (Priligy) Tablets works as a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor. It delays the ejaculation time and acts like an orgasm control drug. Dapoxetine prevents premature ejaculation, thereby allowing you to partake in longer sexual intercourse. Click to find more generic Tadalafil (Cialis) tablets & Dapoxetine (Priligy) tablets.

It is in the form of an oral tablet. As a generic medication that effectively treats erection dysfunction and also premature ejaculation, it is an effective solution to the nightmarish problems that most men face. Tadapox 80mg is not only an ED pill it is also a potent vasodilator. The brand name version of Tadapox 80mg is sold under the names of Cialis, Adcirca, and also Priligy.

Tadapox 80mg is a medicine combined with two potent ingredient Dapoxetine & Tadalafil for the treatment of erectile dysfunction and premature ejaculation. It helps to achieve long lasting firm erection. Although both of them provide relief from penile issues they do not work against each other to produce harmful effects and are also approved by various medical authorities for commercial use. After careful consideration and planning, the new and unique medicine Tadapox 80mg is made available to us.

What is The Chemical Composition of Tadalafil and Dapoxetine?

Tadapox 80mg contains Tadalafil & Dapoxetine as an active powerful ingredients used for Erectile Dysfunction & Premature ejaculation. The chemical compositions of Tadalafil and Dapoxetine are similar but not the same. C21H23NO is the chemical structure of Dapoxetine while this is the chemical structure of tadalafil C22H19N3O4. The carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, and also oxygen remain the same. The only difference is in the amounts of atoms present in the ionic bond.

What are The Medical Uses of Tadapox 80mg ?

Tadapox 80mg is an effective premature ejaculation & erectile dysfunction treatment helps to achieve prolonged firm erection. The main uses in the penile region medicine are the treatment of Erectile Dysfunction and Premature Ejaculation. Many men suffer from penile issues that almost always cause breakups between their partners. Apart from the nether region problems, Tadapox 80mg also looks after prostate gland enlargement or medically known as Benign Prostate Hyperplasia. The longer half-life of Tadalafil over Sildenafil and Vardenafil also makes Tadapox with the power of 80 mg a natural choice for treating pulmonary hypertension disorders.

How Long does Tadapox 80mg Last in The Body?

The average time a Tadalafil 20 mg lasts is 36 hours. A longer erection is a joy for both partners in a relationship. The effect of Tadalafil lasts for more than a day and is one of the reasons why people celebrate it by calling them ‘le weekend pill’. Similarly, Tadapox 80mg takes 30 minutes to show visible results and it wears off after 36 hours.

Who makes Tadapox 80mg ?

RSM Enterprises provide a wide variety of generic medicines to the States, UK, and also Australia. They produce and market Tadapox 80mg. With global outreach and profits worth more than 100 million it is a company with a reputation for providing quality medicines.

How does Tadapox 80mg Tablet Work to Deal with Penile Issues?

PDE5 or Phosphodiesterase 5 is an enzyme that is present in the penile tissues. While serotonin is a chemical that nerve endings produce. Both have a different mechanism of working. While the PDE5 inhibition stops the functioning of cGMP (cyclic guanosine monophosphate), another enzyme that enables smooth muscle relaxation, serotonin is responsible for positive mood changes that motivate the consumers to outperform in all aspects of life. The erection is possible due to nitric oxide being released after the functioning of cGMP while serotonin helps to alter the ejaculatory latency or it helps prolong the ejaculation time. Therefore, once the inhibition of PDE5 starts, the whole cycle of Tadalafil results in better blood flow due to smooth muscle walls and longer erections. In this way, Tadalafil and also Dapoxetine and therefore Tadapox 80mg provide efficient erection time and treat erectile dysfunction and premature ejaculation.

Which Dosage Instructions to Follow When Taking Tadapox 80mg Tablet?

As a generic ED medicine, there are no outstanding requests from the medicine makers or the product itself for consumption. The dose value depends on various factors like height, the times you have sex in a week, age, weight, biological condition, and also how many partners you might have while having sex. All these factors may alter the regular dose values and hence we request you to be frank with your medical care provider so that they can help you make the right decision. Tadapox 80mg is a mixture of balance for erection dysfunction and premature ejaculation medicine into one.

How to Take Tadapox 80mg Tablet?

The correct way to have the ED pills is with water. A glass full of water or milk or any other light beverage is a good way to take the ED pills. Avoid breaking, crushing, or dissolving the Tadapox 80 mg pills in water. Also, make sure to stay away from certain fruits like grapefruit and its juice.

Customer can ask us for all / any Tadalafil tablets or Dapoxetine tablets.

[josephnewbrown]

Exploring The Dual Action Of Super Zhewitra: Treating ED And PE Simultaneously

In a world in which intimacy and private connection are loved, sexual health performs a pivotal position in preserving sturdy relationships. But, conditions like erectile dysfunction (ED) and premature ejaculation (PE) can wreak havoc on one's self-esteem and avoid a satisfying intercourse existence. In case you or your partner have ever confronted those challenges, you are now not alone. But there's a beacon of hope within the form of Super Zhewitra , a super medicinal drug designed to address both ED and PE simultaneously. Permits embark on an adventure to discover its transformative strength and how it can reignite your passion and intimacy.

Understanding erectile dysfunction (ED)

Erectile dysfunction, often shrouded in stigma, is a generic situation affecting hundreds of thousands of fellows international. It may be as a result of different factors, from stress and anxiety to underlying scientific situations. The effect of ED isn't restricted to the physical; it can seep into emotional properly-being and disrupt relationships. Conventional ED remedies offer some relief, however they regularly awareness on an unmarried factor of the problem. A Super Zhewitra, on the other hand, takes a twin-movement approach, promising a comprehensive approach to ED it's each modern and effective.

Grasping premature ejaculation (PE)

Premature ejaculation is any other not unusual problem, one that often accompanies erectile dysfunction or takes place independently. Premature ejaculation can result in sexual dissatisfaction and frustration, leaving both partners unhappy. Even as there are solutions to be had for PE, they have a tendency to deal with the trouble in isolation. Super Zhewitra doesn't play through the ones regulations; it recognizes the interconnectedness of ED and PE and provides a holistic remedy for both.

The power of Super Zhewitra

You might be thinking, "What makes Super Zhewitra one of a kind?" that is in which the magic happens. Super Zhewitra boasts a completely unique dual-action mechanism that targets both ED and PE. It is a recreation-changer because it does not simply mask the symptoms; it addresses the foundation reasons of these issues. Via enhancing blood go with the flow to the genitals and delaying ejaculation, it provides a complete answer that offers the nice of each worlds.

Safety and usage

Of direction, the hunt for intimacy shouldn't compromise safety. Super Zhewitra is designed with this in thoughts, providing clean dosage and usage instructions to make certain most effectiveness and minimal aspect results. But, it is vital to be aware about capability side effects and seek advice from a healthcare expert if important. We'll delve into these info to ensure your well-being is a pinnacle priority.

Specific promoting factors

As you discover Super Zhewitra, you will discover its unique promoting factors. How does it compare to different medicines for ED and PE? What about affordability and accessibility? We will wreck down why Super Zhewitra sticks out inside the crowd and why it is a beacon of desire for those seeking to decorate their great of lifestyles.

Real-international experiences

The real litmus check of any medicine lies inside the studies of those who have used it. We're going to percentage actual-international opinions, case research, and personal testimonies that exhibit the transformative capacity of Vardenafil Super Zhewitra. Those narratives offer perception into how this remedy has revitalized relationships and rekindled the flames of passion.

Conclusion

In Conclusion, Super Zhewitra isn't just a medicine; it is a lifeline for individuals facing the dual demanding situations of ED and PE. With a twin-action method that knows the interconnectedness of these issues, Super Zhewitra gives a unique answer which could reignite the spark in your intimate existence. Do not let ED and PE preserve you again; take movement and explore the possibilities that Super Zhewitra has to offer. Reclaim your intimacy and beef up your relationships with this groundbreaking answer.