#Purity of arms

[probablyasocialecologist]

In November, the Palestinian singer Hamada Nasrallah was shocked to discover a TikTok of a soldier playing the guitar that his father had bought him 15 years earlier. Other videos uploaded to social media in recent months show Israeli soldiers boasting about finding wristwatches; unboxing someone’s collection of soccer shirts; and stealing rugs, groceries, and jewelry. In a Facebook group for Israeli women comprising nearly 100,000 users, someone wondered what to do with the “gifts from Gaza” that her partner, a soldier, had brought back for her. Sharing a photo of cosmetic products, she wrote: “Everything is sealed except for one product. Would you use these? And does someone know the products or are they only in Gaza?” Indeed, since the start of Israel’s ground invasion in late October, soldiers have been taking whatever they can get their hands on from the homes of Palestinians who have been forced to flee. More than an open secret, the phenomenon has been widely — and uncritically — reported in the Israeli media, while rabbis from the Religious Zionist movement have been answering soldiers’ questions about what is permissible to loot according to Jewish law. Soldiers who returned from fighting in Gaza confirmed to +972 Magazine and Local Call that the phenomenon is ubiquitous, and that for the most part their commanders are allowing it to happen. “People took things — mugs, books, each one the souvenir that does it for him,” said one soldier, who admitted that he himself took a “souvenir” from one of the medical centers that the army occupied.

[papa-evershed]

Rob James-Collier ACT ON THIS June 27, 2024

[bogkeep]

read a very poetic post asking why doesn't christian imagery focus on the inherent horror of giving birth in a barn and virgin mary's hands coming away sticky with blood etc and i am focusing all my powers to not be pedantic directly at this person because i learnt about this in art history!!!!!!! i may be raised atheist in a mostly atheist culture, but it turns out western art history consists of 75% weird facts about medieval christianity. i even remember some of them!!!!

from what i can remember literally every single detail of any event in christian canon has been up for thorough debates, especially stuff like "how DID jesus get conceived?" "how DID mary give birth??" and usually there was some person receiving a vision from god who goes to tell the pope about it and becomes a saint as thanks. jesus got conceived like light shining through a window. he was born by simply appearing when mary raised her arms. thus mary remains a virgin three times over (she was a virgin before, during, and after the birth). what does this have to do with art history?? The Symbolisms. there's paintings of a single ray of light shining through a window and onto mary. baby jesus is always perfectly clean despite having just been born in a barn. holy mary wears her blue robes with three star pins, symbolizing her triple virginity. at least that was the symbolism for this particular strain of christianity at a particular time, i'm sure the agreement on what happened changed or split over time and place - it's not like there's a zillion different types of christianities out there with different takes hahaha

[doriandrifting]

People getting shamed for saying that they’re voting for Kamala Harris but still have criticisms of her is not it. What more do you want us to do? Eat her fucking box?

[thevalicemultiverse]

Unicorns are funny if you think about it. You put a horn on a horse and suddenly that makes it a symbol of purity and goodness.

Forgotten Vows

Victor: That -- is a bit bizarre, isn't it? Unfortunately, I don't know enough about the mythology of unicorns to know why that's the case...Alice, you know a unicorn in Wonderland, don't you?

Alice: Yes, but it's more of a symbol of what you'd expect from sticking a horn on a horse -- namely, unbridled violence.

[mildflower-writes]

i just think it would be funny if @ariibees and i’s guides and arms dealers met each other

[millimononym]

I think we SHOULD normalize calling out people in "cringe" fandoms who come onto other peoples posts/art about that same fandom and act all ashamed about liking that thing or interacting with it in any way because that shit is not ok and way too common

You move into OUR neighborhood, break into OUR house, and demean OUR SHARED INTEREST, FEELINGS and EFFORT because you can't keep your shame complex to yourself?? i am going to lock you in the basement and leave you to starve

[ariibees]

Posted another Purity Town one-shot to AO3! Malik’s perspective from when Andrew first comes into town, and how they’ve known each other since before Chris came into the picture.

[targentis]

the hate that the schrodinger's gender poll got is actually so astounding to me and really kind of shines a light on how there's still a lot of people out there who just. cannot handle nuance. the fact that there are still people (who are trans themselves!!) that think that the state of being transfem, transmasc, or nonbinary is all mutually exclusive....girl we're all transgender. the people with multiple genders won't hurt you. we can all see different representation in the same fictional characters and that doesn't "erase" their identity, or yours, for that matter, because let's be honest that's all this is about.

this is why it took so long for me to identify as transfem, because i knew people (mostly online) would be so affronted by it for no reason...it literally doesn't matter. how people identify does not invalidate your own identity, and how people choose to see representation in characters is not, for fuck's sake, worth sending death threats over??? like, go outside and talk to a trans person in real life, no one gives a shit except on our online echo chambers ✌

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

You are like the one blog I follow that doesn't whine about age gaps between Thai BL actors or characters, and bless you for it. So sick of the discourse.

Yeah, age gaps don't bother me one bit.

One of the family cousins married her own father's lifelong best friend, 35 year age gap, and they're perfectly happy.

As long as everyone is an adult, I really don't care.

[protobrieile]

also i know this is old news and we all know that this whole deal is a mix of untaught critical thinking/comprehension and overly taught and expanded puritan values but like. i literally saw a kid in the younger subsection of a fandom i’m in get “”cancelled”” because she *agreed with someone else* that one of the members of the band is hot. like. IS THAT NOT HALF THE POINT OF LIKING A BAND (AT LEAST AT A FANDOM LEVEL)??? IM LITERALLY AROACE AND I HAVENT EVER LIKED A BAND WHERE I DIDNT THINK AT LEAST ONE OF THE MEMBERS LOOKED ATTRACTIVE. But these people were hounding on her and being like “that is so disgusting you should never say stuff like that it would make (the member) so uncomfortable” and unfortunately re my prior post the kids are a lot more inclined to use personally attacking words nowadays than i’ve ever witnessed in my lifetime. i can’t believe it

[macbxth-pdf]

I’m gonna talk my shit rq:

The idea of bi women’s queerness is a state of limbo between lesbian and straight is some weird ass shit. Last month, I saw someone on twitter/shitter/x that Billie Ellish’s songs about admiring women felt forced and objectifying. It seems that the queer community has a tendency to view bisexuality in women has a nonexistent plane or forced like straight women have to walk to please men. Yall will scream from the roof tops “Sexuality and queerness are a journey of self discovery” until the person is a bi women and it gets worse if she’s BIPOC. Yall can’t seem to free yourself from the notion that bisexuality in women is dangerous or just a form of temptation for queer women and straight men. Yall are weird.

And another thing:

the purity culture shit in the sapphic community gotta stop. Idk bout yall but I’ve heard queer women talking about wanting to fuck. Not this hyper romanticized image of braiding flower crowns and frolicking in the grass. Like full blown, raunchy, kinky sex. Sapphic & lesbian sex arent these dirty concepts only meant for men’s viewing pleasure. Queer women like to fuck each other and they like to talk about it. That Megan and Lil Miami clip did LAPS in the blk community. We love Megan as a sapphic artist over here.

white queers are always so damned certain that "true" queerness is for them & them alone. expressions of queerness from Black people (most notably, Black women & those percieved as women) that don't center whiteness & aren't tailored for white audiences are always, always pegged as being unbelievable. all this plus a heaping dose of thay classic "all bi women are dirty attention seeking liars" brand of biphobia. fuck off man

[wttcsms]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ adore me, mark your territory !!

ᝰ.ᐟ after having to endure locker room conversation since his blue lock days all the way up to his pro days, yukimiya realizes that if he wants to show you just how serious he is about his thoughts on his relationship with you, he needs to make his mark on you. ( fem!reader )

pairing kenyu yukimiya x reader word count 3.6k content contains corruption kink/innocence kink, loss of virginity (both you and yukki), first time, creampie, breeding kink, slightly manipulative!yukki, you two attended the same private catholic high school, mentions of purity culture, coercion, very naive reader, talks of marriage, dark(ish) content kinktober masterlist

To love someone is to know them. 

You love Kenyu Yukimiya with all your heart; you know his hopes and his dreams, his fears and the tiny voice in his head that serves to either goad or encourage him. The two of you grew up together, attending all the same Catholic private schools up ‘til he went pro fresh out of high school graduation, and you decided to attend a tiny, private all girls university. 

You know that he’s kind and funny, much more outgoing and adventurous than you. You know that he can be gentle, and that he chooses to always be gentle with you. You know that he loves you just as much as you love him. 

But while distance makes the heart grow fonder, perhaps it’s the distance that has caused this newfound unfamiliarity between the two of you.

“Kenny, I don’t… I don’t understand.” You’re lying down on your painfully small twin-sized mattress in your dorm room. Kenyu’s on top of you, his body hovering over your own. He gives you that familiar, comforting smile of his as he asks you gently (your Kenyu’s always so gentle with you), 

“We love each other, don’t we?” 

“Of course we do.” You say softly. Your arms are by your side, and you’re playing with the frills on the oversized comforter of your bed. Your whole entire room still screams girl. Yukimiya finds it endearing; he finds everything about you so damn endearing. Your floral quilts, and the stuffed animals he’s won for you from claw machines and unfairly rigged carnival games. Your fluffy comforter, and the way you always love to wear dresses, even when it’s just to attend a lecture. 

And your unwavering innocence. 

Everyone knows that Catholic private schools aren’t as pristine as the parents of the students like to claim it is, but you’re the only one who remained devout. The only one who genuinely stayed true to the lessons taught. You didn’t drink, you didn’t smoke, you didn’t sneak out. The only parties you attended were birthday parties chaperoned by a trusted adult and held in the early afternoon. You always followed the dress code and never tried to get away with folding the waistband of your school-issued skirt to make it shorter, like some of the other girls did. Hell, Kenyu had to literally ask your father for permission to date you before he asked you out. 

And while Kenyu’s always been on his best behavior, it’s not like he’s unaware of the world. He’s not naive like you. And that’s okay. One of you has to know enough to lead the other; Yukimiya’s more than happy that he’s the one taking on that role. 

The thing is, Kenyu truly does love you. It’s why he doesn’t rush you, doesn’t try to force you to go further than what you think you’re capable of, than what you think you’re allowed to go. He ignores the hard on he gets every time you two make out, the way your hips sometimes move on their own, grinding against him with no thought to strip out of your clothes and let him finish. You’ve been together since the first year of high school, and now you’re in college, and he’s playing professional soccer, and he loves you, and he still hasn’t even seen your pussy. Honestly, his closest friends tell him he must be a saint. 

But the talks in the locker room, the snide comments from his least favorite teammates, the jokes and the teasing and the mocking, condescending tones — gotta protect Yukki’s ears, can’t let him Mr. Private School hear this, as if he’d even know what we’re talking about; damn virgin — all of it is chipping away at his pacifist, mild-mannered demeanor, revealing the feral, greedy egoist that lies underneath. 

You had been so excited to hear your beloved boyfriend was flying down to your college town this weekend, just to see you! Your roommate’s out on a holiday with her parents, leaving the dorm room all to yourselves. In your cute mind, this just means more room for the two of you to hang out.

For Yukimiya, it means he has no more obstacles to get in the way of him fucking you for the first time. 

“And you know what two people who love each other do, right?” He’s still using the same pacifying, soothing tone he always uses when he’s trying to calm you down. When you skinned your knees and cried from the sting of the alcohol wipes used to clean the cuts, he had used this voice on you. When you cried at the airport because he was leaving the country to meet the team who paid an exorbitant amount to have him on their starting lineup, he had used this voice on you. Right now, you can’t understand why he’s using this voice on you. You’re not hurt; just confused. 

“Kenyu, wh-what are you talking about?” 

“I’m talking about making love, [Name].” One large palm is rubbing up and down the smooth skin of your thigh. The movement causes the thin fabric of your sundress to rise up. Yukimiya’s never touched you down there before. You don’t know why his touch feels so good, but you do understand what he’s talking about now. 

“But Kenny—” Your voice is reduced to nothing more than a nervous whisper, almost as if you’re scared someone is listening in. “—we can’t. That’s for married couples.” 

Well, if it’s any consolation, Yukimiya’s always planned on marrying you. 

He kisses your forehead, his hand never relenting from its position on your thigh. Your dress remains lifted up at an angle on one side. He can see part of your cotton panties; plain and white. If he moves his fingers up a few more centimeters, he could tug at the waistband of them. 

“I know, sweetheart. But I’ve been thinking…” His hand travels from up your thigh to rest on your hip. The one side of your dress is now all the way up, and his thumb rests on the thin waistband of your panties, rubbing reassuring circles to get you to remain calm underneath him. “We’ll get married soon, anyway, right? I love you so much that I need an outlet to show you just how much I love you.” 

“Married? Soon?” Your eyes widen. You find yourself daydreaming about marrying Yukimiya, starting a family. Yukimiya’s smile stretches wide across his handsome face. His sweet girl, he knew you’d be putty in his hands after he mentioned that. 

“Of course.” He kisses you on your lips sweetly, his hand never leaving your hip. “And I want to give you all the love a husband has for his wife. Won’t you let me, [Name]?” 

Kenyu’s always been handsome. You have a collection of all his professional photoshoots, and you know that he has a bunch of fangirls from just his looks alone. It’s so unfair of him, really, to give you that imploring look of his. You can’t say no to Yukimiya, and you think you never want to.

And so you do let him. 

Kenyu’s quick. With the speed he normally reserves for on the field, Kenyu’s mouth meets your at the same time his other hand grips your neglected hip. Now both of his hands are bunching up the fabric of your dress, pulling the skirt up to reveal your simple, plain panties. 

“Mmph.” You moan into the kiss. This is a bit different than what you two normally engage in; somehow, everything feels a lot heavier, headier. You can’t seem to think straight. All you can focus on is chasing after his lips, matching his hungry pace. 

The heat radiating off the two of you is enough for Kenyu to separate from you momentarily. The lens of his glasses are fogged up, and he grins at you, satisfied at the progress you’re making, before taking his glasses off and setting them neatly on your nightstand. 

And then he’s back to kissing you passionately again. You’re lost in the pleasure of his kisses, unknowingly bucking your hips up, not knowing why your body is craving friction, for some attention, down there. Your hands reach up to grip the front of Kenyu’s shirt, tugging at him, trying to bring him closer. You’re getting desperate, and he finds it so cute. 

“Lift your arms up for me, sweetheart.” He mumbles against your lips, and your head’s too hazy for you to properly register his request. He repeats it, still as gentle as ever with you, and this time, you manage to comply. 

“Fuck.” You don’t hear Kenyu curse often; he says it’s impolite to do so in front of his girl. He breathes out the word, and you feel shy all of a sudden as his eyes roam over your body. He tossed your dress to the side unceremoniously, and because the dress itself had padding, you decided not to wear a bra. You’re laying on your bed, nothing to protect your modesty besides your cotton panties. 

“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. The only girl I see.” He praises you, and you don’t feel too shy anymore. 

“K-Kenyu—” You look up at him, all doe-eyed and sweet. You’re pressing your thighs together, drawing his attention to the plush of your thighs, the way hiding in between your legs is your special place that only Kenyu will be allowed to see, to touch, to taste, to love. “What do we do now?” 

He leans down, whispering in your ear in his familiar, kind voice, “Now, you lay down, and let me show you how much I love you.” 

You love Kenyu so much, you think it should be impossible for your heart to have so much room for him. You know Kenyu must feel the same way, but never before has his love for you ever felt so overwhelming. Kenyu pries your thighs apart, forcing you to open your legs for him, but you didn’t know showering you in his love meant that he was going to take his fingers and rub against the mound in your underwear. 

“W-wait, Kenny!” You yelp, trying to shut your legs, but he’s too big, too strong. He blocks the movement, keeps you nice and spread for him. “I—” You don’t know what to tell him, and you don’t know how to explain why there’s a tiny puddle gathering in the thin fabric of your panties. Sometimes, you feel funny and this starts to happen, usually after a long makeout session with your boyfriend. 

“You’re so wet for me, [Name].” He almost sounds in awe, staring down at your covered pussy almost as if in a trance. The pace he’s using is rather slow; he’s content, for now, with just stroking his fingers up and down your covered slit, fascinated with the way he can watch you slowly drench through the cotton. The wet spot only continues to grow; he bets he can get his fingers damp with your arousal soon, and he wouldn’t even have to take your panties off to do so. “Do you always get this wet for me?” 

You want to cry, and you can even feel the tears welling up in your eyes. He looks up, instantly stopping his ministrations, his concern written all over his expression. “Hey, hey.” He shushes you, peppering kisses all over your face. He’s not stroking you anymore, but his large hand is cupping your pussy, the heat of his hand encasing your special place. You’re practically throbbing against him, your cunt aching and hungry for his touch. He just has to get you to open up for him, to understand. “There’s nothing wrong with that. You’re supposed to get wet right here for me, you know that?” 

You sniffle, unsure if he’s just placating you. “Really?”

“Really.” His smile is so gentle, his tone so soothing and reassuring. He’s back to grazing his knuckles across your cunt, enjoying the way the fabric keeps on getting damper. “It means your body is happy, and it lets me know that you love me as much as I love you.” 

His other starts to tug at your waistband, dragging down your panties until he’s pulling them right off. His breath catches in his throat as he looks down and stares at your pussy for the first time. Your folds are glistening, your little clit peeking out at him, begging for him to suck on, to rub against. 

“Cute.” He tells you, tracing a finger curiously against your slit, the tip of his index finger so close to entering your clenching, unbreached hole. “I’m going to make you feel really good now, okay, [Name]? Tell me, have you ever played with yourself down here?” 

“Wha-?” You’re confused, appropriately so. The boys and girls were separated during sex education, but you remember your teacher drilling it into your heads that under no circumstances should a young girl ever touch herself. You had been confused at the time, confused as to why anyone would ever. You’ve been taught that only your husband should ever touch you right there. But Yukimiya loves you, and he’s going to be your husband, and now you’re starting to think you know why girls may want to touch themselves. You’ve felt this heat in between your thighs before, this mysterious hunger for something, but now you’re feeling it tenfold. You shake your head, too choked up to speak. 

“No? Not even like this?” You don’t expect Kenyu to insert his finger. The intrusion is foreign, but not entirely unwelcome. Your walls instinctively clench around his digit, and he has to remind himself to breathe, to remain collected, to take things slow so you can enjoy yourself properly. “You’re clamping down on just one finger.” He breathes out, curling his finger, moving it against your walls. He brushes against a spongy spot inside of you, one that has you jerking up, a shocked, pleasured moan escaping from your parted lips. “That feel good?” He asks, before adding a second finger, both of them bumping against that same sweet spot. 

Your legs feel like jelly, and you nod weakly. It does feel good. Too good. So overwhelmingly good that a foreign, euphoric sensation is taking over you. You can’t seem to control your body, and you can’t stop the flow of cute, pleasured mewls flowing from your mouth, and you manage to scream out a warning to Yuki. “S-something is—” 

A clear stream of liquid spurts out of you, splashes onto him, soaks your cute comforter. 

“Fuck, you’re amazing.” Your walls are too sensitive now, but throughout the whole process, Yukimiya never stops thrusting his fingers in and out of your inexperienced cunt. His eyes are wide, but the gleam in them is sharp, hungry, calculating. “I didn’t even get a chance to mess with your cute little clit. You came just from penetration?” He finally removes his fingers, examining the way your juices are dripping off his digits. “You didn’t just cum, you squirted.”

You turn your head, trying to bury your face in a pillow so he can’t see the embarrassed and debauched expression on your face, but he takes his dry hand and forces you to continue looking up at him.

“That’s a good thing, sweetheart.” He coos, sucking at his fingers obscenely before releasing them from his mouth with a pop!. “It means you’re perfect and all ready for me.” 

Kenyu knows that his cock is the first cock you’ve ever seen, and he’ll make damn certain that it’s the only one you’ll be seeing for the rest of your life. There’s no frame of reference for you to use, but you don’t think that men should be so big. When he frees his dick, making a show of squeezing tightly at the base and pumping it, showing off to you, you swallow hard. 

He taps the head of his cock against your swollen, needy clit, teasing the both of you. He’s losing all sense of restraint, and even rubbing the underside of his cock against your glistening folds, trying to slick up his cock so it’ll be easier to glide into your soaked cunt, is enough to make him want to cum. 

“I’m going to fuck you now, sweetheart.” His voice sounds strained, the gentle tone hanging on by a thread. “We’ll be making love for the first time. Aren’t you excited?” 

You nod. Excited and nervous. His cock much larger than his fingers, and maybe he should have prepped you more, but you came so easily. He always knew you were perfect for him. Pleasure is so unknown to you, the tiniest taste of it is enough to take you out. Perfect, perfect, perfect.

He holds your hand and kisses you to distract you from the sting of his cock breaching your virgin cunt. You gasp into the kiss, pain registering in your mind first, but Yukimiya is quick to take your breath away, to swallow up any potential protests that might have come. He keeps on kissing you, his fingers intertwined with your own, and he’s pushing himself as deep as he can go. He only lets up from the kiss the second he’s buried to the hilt, and you greedily swallow up the oxygen you’ve been deprived of. 

The feeling of a hard cock inside of you is foreign, but your body clings to his length. Unlike his fingers, with its dexterous ministrations that had you keening and squirting when he brushed them against a special spot, his cock fills you up, stuffs you full. Your cunt is greedily sucking him in, and when he whispers that he’s going to really start moving now, it’s not just one spot that he’s hitting.

You’re not sure what’s happening to your body, but it feels like Yukimiya is wringing out pleasure from you from every angle inside of you. 

“Ah, fuck, you feel so good for me, sweetheart. Such a tight pussy, so wet, so warm.” The heat encasing his cock is nothing like he’s ever experienced before. The wet warmth of your pussy is so inviting, so intensely pleasurable, that Kenyu doesn’t think he’ll be able to last. Cumming so soon might be embarrassing, but it’s not. Not when it’s his sweet girl’s pussy that’s begging for his cum. 

You wail out his name, your legs reflexively encircling around his waist, locking him in, keeping him close to you as you cum again. This orgasm is practically ripped out from you, your cunt way too sensitive, the repeated battering of his cock drilling into your hole too much for your inexperienced mind and body to handle. 

“Kenyu, Kenyu, Kenyu!” When you say his name like that, it makes it hard for him to not immediately bust a load inside of you. Gone is the gentle expression from your boyfriend’s face; in its place is something feral, dark. 

When he pulls out, he sees your white cream coating his cock. When he thrusts back in, he hears the lewd squelch of your wet, overstuffed pussy. It’s enough to drive a man insane with lust.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He grunts out, and your head struggles to remain straight, to not loll to the side and let yourself be used. You look up at him, but your eyes are glassy and your mind seems to be in a far away place, so far gone, so fucked out. “We’re going to get married soon. So it’s okay if I get you pregnant right now, right?” His bare cock fucking your virgin pussy raw. He’s going crazy. “I’m gonna fill you up, get you all nice and bred for me. Make you my wife, make you a mommy.” 

The domestic daydream makes you tighten up around him, even though your body is too weak to cum again. That’s alright. He’ll just have to cum enough for the both of you. 

“Hang onto me, sweetheart.” And you do. Your legs are still wrapped around him, but you weakly raise your arms, holding him close to you. He starts pounding at your pussy, his unrivaled speed and strength turning you into mush. You have to dig your nails into the muscled skin of his back, feeling like you’re on the edge of a cliff, about to crash. 

“Fuck, I’m about to put a baby in you, love. My sweet girl, my sweet wife.” He kisses you, messy and sloppy, and he stills. The aggressive thrusts stop, and you realize why. 

There’s a new heat entering inside of you; hot spurts of his cum are pouring into you, and he only moves his hips a bit to plug you up further, to make sure none of his seed can trickle out of you. 

You’re about to lose consciousness, your brain fried from pleasure and exhaustion. All you do is weakly mumble out his name before the world goes black.

You think if this is what making love is, you love love.

“Holy shit, Yukki.” Isagi gapes at his shirtless teammate. 

Yukimiya glances up, about to pull his jersey over his head. “What?” 

“What the hell happened to you?” 

“Hm?” He asks, before turning to try to examine his back. Across the pale muscles are thin, red scratches, fading slightly from the time it’s been etched onto his skin by your nails. He smiles serenely, his mild-mannered attitude ever present. “Oh, this? My fiancee likes me close to her at all times.” 

[runa-falls]

what a mess~

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader cw: smut, established relationship, superhuman stamina, overstimulation, cum EVERYWHERE, 'use a condom, it's too messy X(', 'bitch stfu i'll show you messy'..., so many sheets, reader is a pushover (bc I WOULD BE TOO) wc: 1k + a/n: i um... just take this and I'll go to a corner of a room and think ab what I've done.

---

Having a superhero boyfriend is great – he gets you discounts at your favorite restaurant, he easily carries you home after a long night out at the bar, he saves you from getting kidnapped by his arch-nemesis for the fourth time this month (though isn’t that his fault in the first place?....) – but there are aspects of the relationship that you didn’t consider before. 

Apparently, with great power comes great… stamina. 

To put it plainly, Miguel’s (sex) drive is unheard of. You better clear out your schedule for the whole day because he can go for hours. And most nights, you can barely sit up after he fucks you.

You like that – or you did when you could afford to be sore every other day. You like how enthusiastic he is – how much he wants you. It makes you feel desired and beautiful. But it’s not just the intense workout you risk every time you steal a kiss that turns into more – it’s the number of times he can…finish. 

Every time you think he’s finished, he’s still hard and thrusting into you, overstimulating you until black stars start to fill your vision. 

It’s a mess in the end. 

You lay on top of him, filled to the brim, dripping all over his lower stomach and onto the sheets under you, breathing so hard you’re sure you’d rupture a lung. You feel like you’re barely conscious on the bed as your heart beats harshly against your chest from how hard you came. Hair sticks graciously against your forehead as your eyes struggle to stay open to see Miguel, who gently pulls out and watches his mess spill out of you. 

He whispers sweetly of how well you took him, how pretty you look all fucked out, how much he loves that he can turn you into a blabbering – mindless whore. Being the possessive man he is, he attempts to shove it back in, using two of his thick fingers to gather and push his essence back into you, hoping that, against all odds, it’ll take, despite the fact you take your birth control religiously. 

Of course, when he sees how your thighs shake and squeeze around his hand from the overstimulation of him fucking his fingers into you after you just came, he immediately gets hard again. 

He gazes down at you with apologetic red eyes as he bites his lip under a sharp fang, “I can’t help it when I see how wrecked your pussy is for me…”

It’s nice – it’s hot – but you end up having to change the sheets 5 times a week. He’s insatiable… well ok, you’re just as thirsty as your boyfriend, but the amount of maintenance you need for each session is ridiculous. You basically gave up washing your sheets after every fuck, and instead ordered several identical sets of bedding to make the process easier. 

Many sheets have been destroyed beyond recognition. Okay, maybe you’re being a bit overdramatic, but the amount of cum-stained sheets in your linen closet is insane. How are you supposed to hide this if you were to have guests over?!

After staring at the layers of folded-up and stained sheets that you’ve accumulated over the past few months, you decided you were going to do something about it. 

You can still have fun without the mess.

…right?

—

Miguel has you on your back at the end of the bed with your legs resting on the crook of his arms. You have on a cute little nightgown – white to symbolize purity (though what you were about to do was far from pure) – with nothing underneath. It was one you bought just to get a reaction out of him – and now you got it. 

He holds you open for him, regarding you like he would a special gift – though there’s nothing to really celebrate (unless you count his raging erection). He breathes harshly against your neck as he paints your skin with kisses and nips. You’re nearly folded in half with how closely he’s pushed against you, but you can barely recognize the mere tinge of soreness in your legs with how fluidly pleasure seems to travel from his lips down to the apex of your thighs. 

Miguel O’Hara, the strong, independent Spider-Man, is truly a mess in front of you. His once neatly ironed tie now hangs loosely around his neck, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned halfway down, and his hair a tangle of unruly curls. His fingers, now caressing your body, are already dripping in your slick from when he forced a couple of orgasms out of you right when he got home. 

You find a sense of satisfaction in the disheveled state of his appearance, relishing how his once meticulously groomed demeanor has been disrupted – how his eyes transition from their usual chocolatey brown to a striking blood red, how his lips swell sweetly with lust. 

Miguel groans deeply as he grinds his clothed hardness against your wet center, “Mm…I want you so bad.” He unbuttons and unzips his pants, sighing as he releases himself from the tight fabric. No underwear? 

“Wait, Mig." he pauses his movements, waiting patiently – prepared to do whatever you want. “Get a condom.” …Except maybe…that. 

“Condom?” He could barely hold back his sneer, but you could faintly hear the growl vibrate from his chest. 

“Mhm, we’ve been too messy lately. We can’t just keep buying new sheets every week!”

“...We could…”

“Miguel!”

“I don’t see what the problem is… this is just how it is.”

“But it’s too messy.”

“I thought my baby likes to be filled up…”

“...I-I mean, I do sometimes, but –”

“Don’t you like it when I get you all messy?” He leans in close, distracting you from denying him. “Have you dripping with me for days?” He presses closer, and you can feel his hard cock slip against your wetness, dragging against your sensitive clit. 

“Miguel.” You whine.

It’s so hard to deny this man.

“How about we just try to be more careful, hm?” He presses against you gently, nearly entering you, but not quite. It feels so good, the tip of him barely stretching past your entrance. 

“Okay…j-just this once though…” You surrender with a whisper.

[anantaru]

⚝ DAY 5 — APHRODISIACS

kinktober 2024. — masterlist | ao3

— including. — gepard, luocha, jiaoqiu

— warnings. — fem! reader, aphrodisiacs, dub con, established relationship -> the both of you decide to take them before bed, petnames used: love, baby, sweetheart

⚝ — GEPARD

gepard sat beside you, his armor long since discarded and positioned on the floor, leaving him in a simple, white shirt that clung to his broad frame— yes, nothing happened yet, however, his cheeks were already flushed from the heat of the room, more or less because of you— or perhaps something else called excitement.

"you’re sure about this?" he looked at you, his entire attention drawn to your lips as his usual command softened by the intimacy of the moment and your body unbearably close to him.

you take his hand and nod, holding up the small bottle of aphrodisiacs you both had decided to take together, "only if you are," there wasn't necessarily a reason as to why you wanted to do this, if anything, the eagerness of what the thick liquid could bring forth was exhilarating.

with a soft sigh, you took the dose, first gepard and then you.

the effect was immediate, deeply engulfing your nervous system like a black hole swallowing you on instant, wrecking havoc— with heat, scorching hot sparks, spreading from your core outward, leaving you breathless.

you’re beginning to feel faint throbs settle under your skin and there's an unknown tingling that quells at the base of your spine— you begin to slightly panic, yet gepard took it upon himself to lead the both of you as he laid down next to you, his rough palms skimming up your hips, squeezing at the skin— strong, defined arms wrapped around you until your back was pressed tight against him.

his growing bulge nudges against your naked folds, but it only choses to make your want for your boyfriend burn hotter as he inserts himself slowly, you walls squeezing at the thick muscle when he gasps out, whimpering when he rests his heavy palm on your hip so he can feel the fever from your boiling skin.

this position was not only his favorite, but in this scenario it felt the absolute safest— you trusted gepard the most, knew he would put everything into consideration for it to feel good for you.

"i've never wanted anything so badly," you whine, breathing ragged as you begin to grind back at him. he slides his fingers towards your clit before spreading your liquids lewdly as everything around you turned dangerously intoxicating, dazed and like you lost absolute control of your cunt moulding and pushing him farther in.

gepard’s eyes darkened as he leaned into your shoulder and smirks, then grunts when your pussy milked him fiercely, forcing you to feel every little detail of his cock, heavy throbs, his thick load already splattering inside your thrumming spots, "i didn’t expect it to feel like this…"

he adds, "this ugh, good, fuck," the sensation was overwhelming, the world outside fading away as his hands roamed over your skin, each touch igniting something deeper— you feel dazed, yes, your movements lead by the purity of desire as his first actual, rough thrust of hips rewired the entirety of your brain, your lips parting to moan as your fingers twist into the pillows below you.

⚝ — LUOCHA

you felt electric, a quiet tension lingering between you as you messily made out with luocha, tongue's colliding as his golden eyes glimmer with intrigue, his usual mysterious demeanor giving a clear path-way to something more primal, more otherworldly.

it's been a couple of minutes after you've taken the aphrodisiac and fuck— it's surely working, you're sweating all over, hair a mess, your nipples erected and swollen— not only that but the way luocha dragged his cock out of you was slow, teasing, wet after he's given you a couple seconds to get used to the thickness of him, which only felt much bulgier due to the aphrodisiac doing its magic.

you cry out his name, your skin shaking and pussy so desperately in need to be touched more at the constant draw backs of his hips rocking you apart, like each thrust of his dripping dick lasted forever and ever, your cunt clasping around and making you melt into his flesh with every raw drag.

his hands were on your waist, your legs on his shoulders, and well, luocha wasn't cruel— no, but those positions felt the best, you were the tightest when he squeezed you together like a cute, little toy, finding you absolutely ravishing with your spasming cunt holding him in.

"my love, you look… breathtaking, like this," there's a carnal hint in his tone as he grunts, his voice rough and blurry, "so fucking tight, hah, i can barely move."

⚝ — JIAOQIU

"it seems the effect is… potent," jiaoqiu laughs into your skin, cheeks pinched up with champagne pink and his lips brushed against your neck with you slowly wrapping your palm around his length, stroking him, pressing him tight against your slick folds with every wet connection of his shaft.

the man jolts when you're teasing him with your entrance, he trembles when he curls over you deeper— his heavy weight automatically pressing his cock against your hole as he laps along your throat towards your jaw, "t-that feels nice, so much more intense," jiaoqiu pants, his fingers twitching in the flesh of your body.

his name fell from your lips like a plea, and his response was immediate— his grip tightening, it's just a little motion, yes, back and forth, back and forth, only inserting his tip and pulling out, not even anywhere near the good parts if it wasn't for the aphrodisiac,

it's nice, wet, and your pussy quivers as if he's already all the way in.

"i want you, baby, now," you babble against his lips, the repeated touch of his cock making goosebumps appear along the slopes of your body as you sigh out his name again, "you have me, sweetheart, you have me right there,"

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify