#but i see cis people kink and i hard pass on everything | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

unholyplumpprincess · 4 years ago

Text

Speak Up

A commission for @mintocchi ! Thank you so very much for your patience while I moved everything around :D

Summary: You and Crypto have been in a relationship for awhile now, and he's still got issues when trying to speak up for things that he wants. You always try to get him to voice his opinions and concerns, and somehow this leads to training him how via the bedroom. Or! In which Crypto needs to learn to stop being an actions over words guy or else you'll make him beg over and over again for what he wants.

Reblogs > Likes. Please Reblog if you hit Like :D

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked!!!

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Crypto/Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Reader is gender neutral and written with a vulva, they were originally supposed to be a cis gal but there’s no real language depicting them as strictly a gal!, Denial and forcing Crypto to beg and use his big boy words, P tame kink wise!

Words: 5k

___________________

Starstruck.

That’s how you had first felt when you had met Crypto.

You were a new camera operator on the set of the Apex games, someone who got all the good angles and made sure the drone cameras could really catch all the action. You’d met him the same season he’d been introduced, noting how he’d been cold and disregarding, yet appeared confident in himself. But his eyes, they’d been so...paranoid. Especially when you approached to introduce yourself as one of the camera operators.

He’d regarded you with a short, quick nod. Odd, you’d thought. But that had quickly vanished when Elliott had taken you aside and chatted you up, an arm slung around your shoulder and a grin on his face. “Hey, don’t mind the kid, probably still jet lagged, dropships, bein�� legends and all- anyway sooooo I hear you operate those cameras now, huh? Make sure you get all my good angles- not that any of them are bad, just, you know, keep that attention on the money maker you feel me? The money maker being me, of course-”

~Rest under the cut~

“Mirage.” Crypto’s voice had cut in between you two, watching as you both had turned and you could note his irritated look at Elliott before a much more apologetic one was glanced your way. “Apologies. He does not understand personal boundaries-”

Elliott feigns a dramatic gasp, cutting Crypto off with his free hand against his own chest as if wounded.

You stifle your laugh when Elliott keeps up the act, sputtering before pointing at Crypto accusingly. “Woah, woah, woah, I’ll have you know that I know this lovely thing. Used to be the tech head up iiiiiiin- audio, right?” He turns towards you after that, squeezing his arm around your shoulders in a friendly way as you beam at being remembered.

“That’s right! I was actually hoping to speak to you, Crypto,” You gesture at him, noting Crypto’s light surprise of raised eyebrows before confusion and worry passes his features. Quick to overthink, huh?

You’re quick to follow up to ease his possible fears. “N-not! Not as an employee, I mean, I just- your, uh, your drone. They kinda remind me of an old camera used back in the day and I was wondering if you had any tips or tricks I might be able to pick up on?”

That’s what started the relationship in the first place. Crypto, that day, had offered merely a one shouldered shrug, but after Mirage giving him a look and whining to him like a puppy, he’d agreed. Resulting in you having your own private session with him as he helped you learn a few tips. You were already trained in operating the newer models, but having a few pointers never hurt.

The entire time he’d asked questions about you, it almost felt like he was interrogating you rather than trying to start up curious small talk. But, to ease any fears he might have had about you having ulterior motives, you answered as honestly as possible to each one. Judging by his more paranoid nature, you didn’t ask any in turn for fear of him shying away.

The least you wanted to do was make Crypto feel as though you were untrustworthy.

As you two grew closer, the more relaxed he became around you. No more tips were to be given, so that excuse flew out the window, so you’d offered hang outs. It took a few tries until he finally mumbled he’d feel more comfortable in his room, which is where you two ended up being and you learned he had a sweet little cat named Isabella-Marie.

You had smiled at her name, asking where he got the idea from, and he’d smiled softly- almost sadly when he’d said she was his sister’s cat he took in, but no more information. Said cat took to you nicely, and just as she had, Crypto started warming up to you as well.

It was a slow, slow process. You took your time with him and learned that the personality he put on was nothing but a front. Something to keep more hidden. In private, he’s so soft, almost shy in his approach to you. He’s still got his sarcastic tongue, but he’s more playful when in private with you. Much like a cat. You see him opening up the slightest bit to people he’s starting to enjoy too- Elliott and Natalie both seem to have won some sort of favor with him.

That friendship slowly worked its way into romantic.

The first time you kissed him is with your hand cupping his cheek and his cheeks flushed red as his dark eyes flickered to your lips multiple times until you took initiative. It took a bit of coaxing to even get him to rest his hands on your waist, but once that had happened, it’s like he’d been so touch starved all his life. Clinging to you and sighing into your mouth as if he’d just sunken into bed after a long day.

His need for touch didn’t surprise you considering when you offered hugs and snuggles that he’d melt into you and cling to you so tightly. Your height difference, with you being much shorter, made that kind of funny when he’d lean down to bury his face in your neck and you’d stand on your tiptoes to make it easier. All within a private setting- outside of these rooms, you were both strictly professional.

Crypto’s name had been revealed to you not long after. Tae Joon Park. You both agreed that if you used it frequently that you might yell it in public, so it was reserved for more intimate moments or serious when you two were alone. You were mindful about switching his name, so you kept to using ‘Crypto’ in your head to ensure you wouldn’t fuck it up.

Though, it never failed to delight you in hearing him sigh fondly when you’d mumble his name by his ear after a sweet kiss.

Dates were more reserved for the bedrooms as well. You never minded that either, but sometimes on rare occasions, he’d don a mask and a hood so you two could go out. You could only imagine the type of anxiety those outings brought, but it always warmed your heart that he was willing to take a breath and push himself out to do these things for you. In turn, you would spend the nights with him, with his head on your chest and his arms squeezing around your middle.

Crypto, you quickly find however, is really bad at vocalizing his desires.

He’s a man of action, hardly using his words and if he did it was one worded or quick. You’ve been trying to help him on communication skills for both your sakes, but it’s more difficult on him. It doesn’t help that he’s quiet either, so sneaking up behind you to snake his arms around you normally results in you jumping and making a squeak sound.

But it also meant that for more...bedroom activities, that he would use actions. You always knew when he wanted something, you weren’t blind to it, you just wanted to make 100% sure of what he wanted. Normally resulting in you straddling his lap, a hand around his neck and speaking low for him to tell you what he wanted.

Crypto always got the cutest face anytime you took the reins and control. A healthy flush over his cheeks, his breathing heavier and his eyes pleading, but his mouth refusing.

Stubborn was a good way to put it. How his eyebrows would furrow and he’d whimper and buck his hips up, but not tell you what he wanted. It took a lot of trial and error to even get him to utter ‘please’ at times. Your poor baby.

You especially found you liked teasing him. Learning quick that he liked nicknames like ‘Good boy’ and ‘Baby boy’. You enjoyed edging him, tying him up or even just making him cling to the sheets or his own hair as his hips humped the air and he sobbed without begging for you. Always trying so hard to convey in his body language what he wanted you to do.

You found yourself mesmerized by his desperation at a lot of times. Where Crypto’s kiss flushed lips would part, his eyebrows knitted and his eyes frantic on you. His own hands gripping his hair to follow instructions on not to touch you as his hips thrust into the air and made his thick cock bob.

Sometimes you wondered if he could cum just by humping the air alone.

Another time, you’d always tell yourself, always so eager to hear that final sobbed out word of ‘Please’ before you would swing your legs over him and ride him hard and fast. Normally fit with cruel croons about what a sweet, pathetic little thing he looked like. Your very good boy.

That’s what you were thinking of now as you sat on the couch in his quarters, waiting for him to return from his match in the arena.

Isabella-Marie is happily purring in your lap as your hand strokes through her soft, strawberry blonde fur. You’ve set up there with a blanket over your lap that she’s kneading happily, the match Crypto had been in having ended about an hour ago. You could tell he was struggling, too much talking around him that was reflecting in his steps.

He’d been in a team with Mirage and Wattson, both people you knew he liked being around, but unfortunately, they kept striking up conversation. Leading to Crypto being off his rhythm. But it was nice to hear him breathe out in amusement at their antics sometimes, caught on the audio feed with the announcers crooning about how it looked like he made some friends finally.

They at least made it to the top three. Fighting valiantly to maintain their location on World’s Edge in the city. Mirage had gotten cocky when they’d knocked two of the opposite team, going up to finish them off and ending up with a shotgun in the back and a cracking snarl in the sky of Bloodhound.

The rest is history. But, at least you knew Bloodhound wouldn’t be the type to gloat and act cocky if they caught Crypto- at least out loud. You’re glad it was them rather than Caustic. Bad blood ran deep between them, not to mention Natalie struggling herself with it all. You were glad her and Crypto could solve whatever issue it was that ran between them- one that not even you were aware of.

Security and secrecy, Crypto had told you with apology in his eyes. You understood, some things were best kept secret. Especially in case you accidentally got caught up in a mess, you could genuinely say you had no idea what was happening in all the legends’ lives.

The beep of the door being unlocked makes Isabella-Marie awaken, doing a stretch across your lap before she chirps and hurries to the door to greet Crypto. She curls around his feet as he removes his shoes at the door before entering any further into the room in the rest of his gear.

“Hello, sweetheart,” You hear him tiredly coo downwards, hearing Isabella-Marie's delighted chirp as she’s scooped up, quickly followed by her loud motor engine of a purr.

You slide off the couch, dressed in your lounging outfit of soft black sweatpants covered with cliché little green alien heads and a loose gray sweater with a green Apex symbol over the right breast, the collar falling off your shoulders. Crypto looks worse for wear, his eyes are tired and he’s got dirt smudged on his cheek and smells heavy of sweat. Not that Isabella-Marie minds. Nor you.

“Hey,” You greet him, a smile on your face as his eyes rest on you whilst his cat presses her cheek in insistent strokes against his chin, cradled in his arms.

“Hey,” He murmurs back to you, adjusting Isabella-Marie in his arms when you reach for him. Despite his tired expression, his cheeks flush when he leans down and to the side for you to cup his cheeks and peck a kiss on his lips in greeting.

“You need a shower. You go wash up and I’ll order dinner.” You tell him, offering your arms out for Isabella-Marie to be transferred to your arms in all her purring glory. “What were you thinking tonight?”

“Mmh.” Is his only reply, leaning down to rest his cheek on the top of your head in a small nuzzle. Affectionate boy. You laugh a bit, gently nudging him with your hip as Isabella-Marie jumps out of your arms. Giving you time to hook your arms around his waist and shove your hands into his back pockets under his jacket to draw him close and make him blush.

“Tae Jooooon,” You tease his name, enjoying how he hums low in his throat in response and turning his head to press his lips against the top of your head in a kiss. “We’ve talked about this. You can’t go your whole life being a one worded man.”

“Mmh.” He responds again, this time with a smile that you feel.

You shove at him playfully to shoo him off for the shower, calling out after his back when he goes dutifully towards the bathroom. “Fine! But if you don’t like what I picked because you didn’t give any options, I don’t wanna hear you complain!”

Not that he ever did complain. If he was picky this would be a bigger concern. But thankfully you two seemed to be on the same page a lot of times, especially when it came to food.

The food you order is Chinese takeout, getting here just in time for when Crypto emerges from his long shower looking a lot more awake and less grouchy. He’s dressed in his thick framed glasses, his normally slicked back hair nice and slick, some black sweatpants and a loose white crop-top, something you appreciate very greatly to be able to see his fit frame.

Like a nerdy jock.

You show your enjoyment when you wrap your arms around him from behind when he goes to look at what you got for dinner. Running your nails up his exposed beauty-marked, warm skin on his abdomen to feel him squirm and lean back against you with this flustered huff falling from his lips.

Eventually you two make it to the couch where you have dinner and watch one of the K-dramas he liked to indulge in. Sometimes Crypto will pause it to explain a verbal pun that wasn’t caught via the subtitles for you, something that always makes you smile and appreciate when he takes the time to pause and explain for you.

Though you’re sure he doesn’t appreciate when you wait for his most distracted point in time to steal a piece of his food and shove it in your mouth too quickly for him to stop you. Resulting in him poking at you until you squeal from being tickled and he can take a piece off your food in retaliation as you whine at him after.

Domestic. That’s the best way you could describe yours and Crypto’s relationship.

Home.

After dinner is put away and teeth are brushed, you two settle back onto the couch. You curl up on the corner, Crypto following you to cuddle up to your side. His cheek rests against your shoulder, kind of tilting his body into you as you rest your arm behind him, your hand resting on his nape to slide up to pet at the shaved portion of his head. Another hum from him of appreciation, but not verbalizing his like of it.

Crypto softly adjusts, but you take it as nothing more than him getting closer to you with the soft sound of the TV in front of you. You’ve got your phone in your lap to play a puzzle game while he watches his show, very much like a cat as he rubs his cheek against your shoulder affectionately.

Another squirm, another adjustment is felt after a moment of him pressing his thigh to yours. You take it as him wanting to be closer, only sliding your fingers higher along his scalp to the coarse hair atop his head to lightly scratch at the root like he likes.

You don’t notice his mouth starting to part, quickly cut off with the ringing of your phone and you groaning aloud. “Really? Right now?” Before you’re answering it with a polite ‘Hello?’ that makes Crypto snort at your tone change.

He watches as you chat, watching your lips move and hearing you discuss footage and what your boss must have wanted you to edit or someone else. He’s not really paying attention when you’re still petting his hair. He tries to nudge closer to you, near flush with your side as his hand now rests on your thigh, hoping to catch your attention. You only offer him a quick smile before returning back to your conversation.

After five minutes, it’s clear this isn’t going to be a short call either.

A sigh is heard from Crypto before he’s leaning up to start pecking soft, brushing kisses on your neck. Your head tilts for him, only a light flutter of your lashes as you go ‘Mmhm yeah’ to whoever you are on the phone with. Your nails press lightly at his scalp, letting him know you feel him as his teeth lightly nip at your neck like you like.

You’re damned good at keeping your composure verbally, and now Crypto’s beginning to wonder if you’ve ever done anything on the phone with him without his knowledge. Even the mental image of you spread out and touching yourself while on the phone near making him whine, something he swallows down.

You clearly can feel him and see him. You offer a little smile when he peeks up at you, catching your gaze. Emboldened by you sparing even a little attention to him, his hand slides down to your wrist in hopes you’ll catch up to what he’s saying. Gently drawing it to his thigh and towards his inner thigh. And yet, you still chat on the phone, but now you’re squeezing and massaging his thigh, your pinkie lightly skimming over his crotch and making Crypto’s breath hitch against your shoulder.

His brows are furrowed, looking ever so frustrated as you now purposefully lengthen the conversation out by bringing back a point from the last game played. Crypto’s head tips lightly up to you, his eyes pleading with you when your knuckles brush over the bulge in his sweatpants.

Your eyes meet his and you quirk a brow with a light smirk on your face. Your eyes say enough for him, you’re sure, judging by how his face flushes and his brows furrow once again. You can see and feel how he squirms, realizing he’s not going to get anything until he uses his words.

He’s stubborn. He’s always so stubborn. Squirming in his place and getting more frustrated as you keep chatting. Only after three minutes does he finally give in when he realizes this isn’t going to work and you’re only going to keep teasing him through his pants.

“Please?” He all but whispers, his mouth felt quivering on your bare shoulder and his hot breath felt in a shaky exhale. “Please touch me, please?”

You smirk.

“Oh! Hey, boss, looks like I’ll have to chat with you tomorrow morning about that- uhuh, yeah, yeah, getting,” -You pause there to let out a feigned yawn- “Oof, yeah, getting real tired....uhuh, yeah, sounds good! Buh-bye.” Before you’re ending the call and practically pouncing on him.

You end up in his lap, straddling him and cupping his cheeks, brushing some of his hair from his face before you lean in to kiss him. Crypto’s hands find your waist, hovering at first before gripping you when you lick into his mouth after biting his lip to make him gasp.

You sit up higher to press him back into the couch, letting your hands slide into his hair for him to tip his head back when you pull at it. His moan is low and vibrates his chest when your tongue licks over his own, feeling his hips jerk lightly up and against your ass needily.

“I like when you beg,” You breathe as you part from the kiss, moving the kisses down his jawline and towards his ear where you lightly nip. “Do it again for me?”

“Nnh-” Is the only response he manages at first, his fingers shaking as they slide down to grip your hips when you start grinding across his lap. Back and forth to your own rhythm and feeling just how hard he is. Bless whoever made sweatpants.

Crypto’s so cute when you pull back to look at him. Where his head is tipped back and to the side, his lips parted and letting out ragged breaths with each drag of your hips across his lap. How his brows knit together when you grind low and slow downwards to catch his attention and his mouth falls closed to hiss.

But. He still wasn’t speaking.

“Be a good boy and tell me what you want, hm?” You try to encourage him, letting your hands fall down to his exposed abdomen to slide your hands up and under his crop top. Slipping your hands over his chest to thumb at his sensitive nipples, gently pinching and rolling them. Crypto whimpers sharply, his head rolling to the opposite side and looking more stubborn by the second as he strains to come up with words.

“I-I-” His voice comes out in a whine, framed by how his lips quiver and his blunt nails cling to your hips when you stop grinding to encourage him further. “I...I want your mouth. On- o-on my cock. Please?”

“Awww, baby, when you look that cute? I’d do just about anything for you.”

You move down his body, kissing your way down until you can slink in between his knees onto the floor. You waste no time in hooking your fingers under his sweatpants, your mouth watering as you follow his happy trail downwards as it gets more exposed. You tug them completely off with his underwear, watching his thick cock bounce with a satisfying bob and a drool of pre-cum from the flushed head peaking from foreskin.

Crypto covers his face with his hands to hide his burning red flush that edges down to his chest when you hum at him approvingly. But, judging by how his cock throbs, you already know that as he likes being watched and praised without words.

You take your sweet time kissing up his length and down his balls, letting your tongue run over the sensitive skin. Your hand holds the base, stroking downwards to pull back his foreskin, mouthing at the flushed head and letting your tongue slide against the slit in teasing dips until a whimper falls from his lips.

You tease him like this for a good enough amount of time before you even take him into your mouth fully. Suckling and bobbing your head, your free hand holding his hip to squeeze to remind him to keep his hips down when he starts trying to hump upwards into your mouth.

Anytime you feel how his cock jerks and you hear his breathing quicken; You stop. Pulling your mouth off to kiss at his hips and thighs instead. Squeezing on his legs soothingly and rubbing at his skin when Crypto whines and rolls his hips up with not a single word peeping from his lips. Even if now his arm is thrown over his forehead, able to see how he peeks open one eye to look down at you pleadingly.

You smile up at him each time before you take him in again. Suckling, licking, your nails sliding down his thigh until your hand can cup his balls and lightly squeeze. And each time you feel him get close, you pull back. The same bite of pain of your nails on his skin, same edging, the same denial even as pre-cum spills from his cock and it mixes with your drool to connect you with a sliver that makes him near sob when he sees you.

You know he liked it messy. Liked seeing the mess you could make.

The mess you could make of him.

You’re about to remind him that he needs to use his big boy words if he wants to get anywhere tonight. But, seems Crypto gets the memo when he starts pleading.

“Let me cum inside you, please, please, please- please let me cum i-inside you, please, I’ll be good-” His voice is breathy, a high whimper as his hips try to fuck up into the loose grip you have on his shaft. He just looks so pathetic for you right now. Just a teary, drooly, humpy mess.

You like how desperate looks on him.

“Mmmhhh, I dunno, baby,” You let your voice elongate your words, your breath fanning across his sensitive skin and causing his dick to jerk, lightly tapping your lower lip and making you smile. “You look awfully cute. Can’t you hold it a bit longer? C’mon, you can be my good boy and hold it, can’t you?”

Each end of your questions is punctuated with a drag of your lips across his cock, letting him feel how you murmur across his reddened skin.

Crypto sobs out again, his body jerking in sensitivity as both his hands come back up to hide his red face and teary eyes. His nod allows you to continue, continuing your teasing kisses and licks. Making sure to bite pain into his thighs to cause his mind to either associate the pain with pleasure or to back off his pleasure. Judging by the way he sobs out and twitches each time you scratch or bite him, you’re guessing it’s your prior guess.

“Please, please, please-” Crypto starts to sob when you deny him again, his cock jerking heavily and spilling pre-cum on his lower abdomen. His hands have fallen to grip the couch as best as he can, his teary gaze looking down at you and his lips quivering with his shaky breaths. So cute. “Please, I-I cannot take it anymore, please, please let me cum in you, I want to cum in you-”

You’ll give him credit. This is the most he’s ever spoken during sex, let alone been so clear in his needs and desires. Something you’ll praise him for later. For now, you smile up at him, wiping your mouth off on the back of your hand before standing to wriggle out of your lounge clothing.

Crypto’s quick to help you, hooking fingers in your sweater to help you out of it. It’s fit with your laughter as you nearly fall on him, lots of giggling when his mouth presses a kiss to your abdomen when you get halfway stuck through your sweater and pants. “Tae Joon-” You laugh out his name when you feel him smile against your abdomen, “C’mon, lil help here?”

Eventually you escape your clothing prison, able to set the mood again when your straddle his lap. You’re plenty wet enough, but you still take the time to tease him a bit more by reaching down to stretch yourself while hovering over his cock. You feel flustered as he watches you, sitting under you and looking up at you with such love in his eyes while you make soft sounds yourself.

It takes a few tries to line up correctly, but soon you’re bouncing your hips on him with your fingers in his hair and your mouth on his neck. He always sounds so pretty the way he cries out, clinging to your hips at first before his arms wind around you to hug you to his trembling frame. You pepper kisses all over his face, cupping his cheeks adoringly as you rest your foreheads together.

He cums rather quickly, clinging so hard to you as his hips frantically hump up against you. He ends up accidentally holding you still so he can thrust up into you, resulting in you clinging to him in turn with your lips parted and murmuring praise as he fucks you through his orgasm. He’s swearing in his mother tongue, something you can only catch bits and pieces of.

When Crypto’s done cumming, one of his hands quickly goes down to between both your bodies to rub at your clit as you hump against his cock still lodged inside you. He finds your lips to capture when you whimper out his name when you begin to cum, your nails biting into his shoulders as he rubs you through it.

By the time you’re both satisfied, you slump against his frame, burying your face into his neck as your sweaty bodies press together on the couch, still connected.

When both of your breathing settles, he presses a kiss to the top of your head, nuzzling himself there as his hands slide up and down your sides. You smile softly, adjusting your hips a bit and laughing a bit when he grunts in this little oversensitive way.

When you lift your head to meet his gaze, you smile a bit brighter, gently bumping your noses together. “Hey,”

“Hey,” He murmurs back just as fondly.

“You need a shower.”

He smiles when he realizes you’re replaying your interaction from earlier that day, reaching up to brush your frazzled hair from your face. “Mmh.”

“You need a shower with me?”

“Mmh.” He repeats, moving to rest his cheek atop your head as you laugh at him when you feel his chest shake with a quiet laugh in turn.

“Alright fine. Guess I’ll be getting a shower first and you’ll be left out here with your dick out and cold-”

That gets him. Pushing you off him and to the couch with a yelp from you as you fall gracelessly on your side and gasp as he takes off towards the shower and you quickly following after him with a playful swat to his ass when you catch up.

Yeah. You would say your guys’ relationship was domestic.

#Crypto #Crypto x Reader #Apex legends #apex lemons #nsft #lemon #commissions #princess writing

158 notes · View notes

normal-thoughts-official · 3 years ago

Text

With a little help from your friends (the help is praise kink and the friend is your boyfriend)

Who would have thought that fucking your boyfriend senseless cures dysphoria.

Alternatively: being a dom is actually something that can be so gender,

Fandom: It Lives (Visual Novels)

Pairing: Andy Kang/Tom Sato

Additional tags: let's see, mild mentions of transphobic and racist comments, Comfort Sex, the filthiest comfort sex uve ever seen but WHATEVER, dom andy kang, sub tom sato, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Dom/sub Play, Collars, Praise Kink, basically someone says transphobic shit and then tom rides him and talks about how wonderful andy is, except tom has also been in denial for a few days and he's super horny, and andy gets in domspace and everything is great and nothing hurts, Fluff and Smut, Humor, cuz u know these two are incapable of taking anything too seriously, Established Relationship, oh they're both in college and they go to the same college cuz i said so, set after the events of it lives beneath, that's it I think, trans author if that matters to you

Read it on Ao3

Andy isn't having a great day. It's not a terrible, clawing-at-his-chest-trying-to-deal-with-dysphoria kind of day, but he's been trying out this "not comparing everything to the worst possible scenario" thing his therapist has been talking about, so still, not a great day.

The thing is, he thought college would be easier. And it is, in a lot of ways. For starters, there is no evil monster spectre trying to kill him, which gives college at least 5 points over high school. And his uni has a pretty solid queer club, so he knows other trans people there. Some of them are even non-white. Some of them he even actually, truly likes. And most of the time, he feels like he has a place to turn to, and people to support him. He's not alone. He has people who get him. And that makes all the difference.

But basketball is still a nightmare, and his knee still hurts when it's cold, and winter is officially starting now.

People still hesitate to pass the ball to him, and it's frustrating, because Andy fought so hard to earn his old team's trust and now he's back at square zero. And well, Andy has been gaining this team's trust, because he's good, goddamn it, and his team owes at least the last three victories to him. He's not hesitant to say that, especially because otherwise no one will. And he can see that they look at him differently now - nod at him in the hallways, at least, talk to him in the locker room, pass him the fucking ball if his position is very, very open.

But if he weren't trans and Asian, he wouldn't have had to work so hard to get all of that - or well, just that, really. He has a full sports scholarship despite the fact that he had a broken leg, had to retake his last year of high school, and doesn't even have the body type for basketball. If he weren't Asian, if he weren't trans, his team would have assumed his greatness from day one. Instead, he has to show it to them time and time again only to get them to reluctantly admit maybe he's not bad. No one calls him "triple threat" anymore, but he still has to work three times harder than anyone else, and it's frustrating.

And usually Andy can deal with it, but right now his knee hurts, and he can't afford that because he'll lose everything he's worked for if his teammates know that his fucking knee hurts. So, he braved training and then he got the fuck out of there without even changing so no one would see him wince. Which means he's still in basketball shorts, which are short, in the cold, which means his leg hurts more.

At times like these, he's thankful he never got the chance to go through with his promise to break his other leg kicking Noah's ass. Because he would have, and then both his legs would be hurting right now, and two legs that hurt every time it's cold is just too many legs.

No comparing to the worst possible scenario, he tells himself. Therapy is so hard. If he had known there would be homework, he would have thought twice about going.

And that's, apparently, the cue for his phone to go off. Andy smiles, knowing who it is even before he opens the message, because only one person messages him during class, and it's the only person he wants to hear from right now.

Tom <3 sent you a message

Grinning like a fool, he opens it.

Tom <3: dude, im horny af rn. the fuck

Finally, good news, Andy thinks, smiling. Then he remembers why Tom is so horny, and suddenly this day is great, actually.

He quickly types a reply.

You: who wouldve thought that 3 days of denial would make this happen

Tom <3: ill have u kno i was very good at holding it together before today

You: yeah, dw. soon u wont have to hold it anymore ;)

Tom <3: that flirt was terrible, dude

You: said the guy whos calling me dude for the second time in this conversation

Tom <3: what else should i call u? 😩

Andy thinks for a second. Tom and him do longer-term denial every once in a while, but they aren't in a 24/7 relationship. Does Andy really want to go there right now? Yes. Well, that was fast. Okay then.

You: how about "sir"

Tom's reply comes fast as lightning.

Tom <3: Yes, Sir.

Andy smirks at himself.

You: uve been hoping that id say that, havent u?

Tom types for just a little longer this time.

Tom <3: Yes, Sir.

----

Many things are wrong with the world, and Andy doesn't mean to make light of the other things, but the fact that Andy can't simply go and fuck his boyfriend whenever he wants is definitely one of them. It should be, like, financial compensation or something. We're so sorry the school environment is transphobic, here, have a free sex pass. Sounds fair to him. But instead, he still has two hours of classes to go through, and Andy is a better guy than he wishes he was, so he tells Tom to pay attention to class instead of sexting him, because he doesn't want Tom to struggle even more with his course when he had already had to leave it once. God damn true love or whatever.

The point is, by the time classes are finally over, his day is back to not being that great; he's tired, and his leg hurts. He gets to their car after Tom does, and Tom takes one look at him, and says, "I'm driving".

Andy crosses his arms. "Why?"

"Because your leg hurts," Tom answers, rolling his eyes and taking Andy's bag from him and putting it in the trunk.

Andy looks down at his legs. He wasn't limping. There aren't any bruises. How the hell-

"It's cold and you're in shorts. I'm not an idiot, dude."

Right. Yeah. Right. Of course. Tom knows. It's… It's alright.

"Bad day at training?" Tom asks, slowly, sympathetically, and Andy feels himself settle in his skin a little bit.

"The usual," he answers, getting inside, and, as always, Tom gets the hint.

---

Their uni's dorms are gender-segregated because these guys have still not gotten the memo that people of the same gender fuck; and Andy wasn't willing to deal with cis college guys' bullshit, much less cis college girls' bullshit; and the uni wouldn't let him simply pick Tom as his roommate. So, they rented out a beat up apartment right next to it instead. It took a little longer to get there, but it wasn't a lot longer, and well, it was worth it.

Tom gets inside, still carrying Andy's bag because he's transphobic and unfair and had taken it and bolted up running so Andy wouldn't have a chance to argue with him. And Andy can't run after him with his leg hurting, which kind of proves Tom's point that he should carry Andy's bag. All in all, Tom is the worst, and he turns up the heat as soon as he gets inside and sits Andy down on the bed, kneeling in front of him to take a look at Andy's knee.

He's silent for a while, massaging his knee until Andy sighs and throws his head back, before Tom plants a little kiss on his knee and looks up at him. Andy's knee always stops hurting when Tom kisses it better. It's a little embarrassing, if Andy is being honest, but still- nice. Really nice.

They stay for a little longer like this, Tom humming and massaging his knee and Andy not meeting his eyes, until the question inevitably comes.

"What happened?" Tom asks, not letting up with the smooth movements of his hands, his eyes big and sincere with worry.

"Nothing. Just the cold. You know how my knee gets."

"I meant, for you to leave practice without putting some warmer clothes on."

Andy looks away. "It was nothing."

"Dude, are you expecting me to go, 'okay, yeah, that totally makes sense and I believe you', or…?"

Andy laughs, despite himself, and throws his good leg up in an almost-kick to pretend he's retaliating. "Don't be an ass."

"I'm not. Come on, Andy. You know you can tell me."

"It's nothing, it's just- Kyle-"

"Oh boy."

Andy laughs. "Yeah." But then he grows serious, "the thing is, he doesn't mean any harm, you know? I know he's not saying it to hurt me, and so that just means that, like... that it's true."

Tom's hands stop their movements, rubbing soothing circles around his knee instead. "What did he say?"

Andy doesn't look at him. "He asked me why I didn't stay on the women's team. Said that I could have an advantage, cuz Asian people are androgynous anyway, so no one would notice that I was taking hormones."

Tom just stares at him in shock for a moment.

"And I was like, 'dude, I've been on T for three years, I'm pretty sure they would notice the changes'. And he was like, 'yeah, but you still look like a lot of Asian girls with short hair, you could write it off if you wanted', and I just…" He trails off.

Tom waits in silence for a second, seeing if Andy finds his words, before asking, "Is Kyle, like, okay?"

Andy scoffs. "I didn't try and fight him, if that's what you're asking."

"No, I mean, does this dude have a screw loose or something?"

"He's very bad at figuring out what is or isn't offensive, yeah, but it's not like he really cares, he just won't go out of his way to antagonize me."

"No, I just- Andy, even when you were a little kid with huge pigtails, anyone would have to be crazy to see you as a girl."

Andy bites the inside of his lip. "You're just saying that."

"I'm not. It's just wrong, man. It was so obvious that it was wrong. Anyone could tell. There's nothing about you that says 'girl' to anyone who's looking."

Andy sighs, finally risking looking at Tom's eyes. There's overwhelming sincerity there, and Andy instinctively looks away. "I guess. Maybe. I don't know. It just got me thinking... Maybe T didn't change anything. Maybe I look exactly the same, maybe it was just hopeful thinking that had me thinking it would change anything, maybe it's just- pointless to even try-"

"No, no, come on," Tom says, and the interruption is so sudden it makes Andy look at him again, just in time to see Tom shaking his head vigorously. "There's no way you believe that. What about this bad boy over here?" He smiles, reaching out softly to caress Andy's neck. "You have more of an Adam's Apple than me, dude. And we both know you don't need T to be a guy, but thinking it made no difference is just crazy and you know it. What about those dry pecs? These broad shoulders of yours? Your voice, I mean, come on. You even smell different, man. How can it be pointless, if even your scent is different?"

Andy looks to the side again, but he can feel himself smile. "Well, when you put it like that..."

Tom gets up, but stays close, putting his hand on Andy's cheek, slowly, as if testing the waters, before turning him slightly to look at him. "Andy. Kyle is an idiot and a transphobic racist who's too damn lazy to realize how fucked up he is. And you shouldn't have to deal with that, and I'm sorry, and I will set him on fire."

Andy laughs. "You can't keep threatening to set every shitty teammate I have on fire."

"I can, because it keeps making you laugh," Tom says, smiling. Well. Andy can't argue with that. "My point is, you wouldn't listen to a word this dude says if it were about anyone else, so don't listen to him when he talks about you, okay? T or no T, you're no girl, and you don't look like a girl, and regardless of whether or not Kyle's dumb ass noticed it, your transition has been doing you good. Remember when your voice started to crack and get all weird? I've never seen anyone be that happy about it."

Andy laughs. "It was pretty awful."

"No, it was great, 'cause you loved it. Do you want me to pull out the 'before' pictures we took in case this happened? Look at yourself, dude. You fit so much better in your own skin, you know? And like, you've always been gorgeous, but-"

"Come here," Andy interrupts, pulling him down because Tom is standing and Andy is sitting and Andy is already height-challenged. And Tom goes willingly, carefully straddling Andy's lap and meeting him in a kiss. Finally, Andy thinks.

Tom kisses him softly, slowly, one hand resting on the back of Andy's head and the other draped lazily over his shoulder, as he usually does, all gentle and a little hesitant, and Andy is having none of that. So he grabs Tom's hair and deepens the kiss, bringing him closer until their chests are flushed together and he can feel Tom's hips mindlessly making little circles against Andy's belly.

They separate - or well, stop kissing, really, because Tom is still as close to Andy as physically possible, and Andy feels about ready to shoot anyone who tries to push him further away. Tom's a little breathless, and his hips are still making these almost imperceptible movements against Andy, and Andy realizes that he's still grabbing Tom's hair and that he's a little breathless, too.

Tom looks down at him for a second, as if debating something with himself, before saying, "and like, not to be horny during a serious moment, but since we're talking about the effects of T... Andy. Andy. Your clit. Fuck. It's so huge now, and it's got a visible head and you can fuck my face and everything, and I could sing it praises for a week and probably will if you don't stop me right now."

"Hmm, but I like it when you sing me praises," he smiles. "Keep going."

"God, I was hoping you'd say that. Do you have any idea how much I've been thinking about it today? I didn't hear a single word anyone said to me, all I could think about was you fucking my face, pulling my hair, making me worship you and beg to be allowed to suck you off, I wanna serve you like you're my God." Tom's hips start to jerk up, more visibly this time, shameless, and see, this is why Andy's been really, really liking this whole denial thing - Tom has only started to explore his subby side recently, a little ashamed of it to admit it to anyone, even himself. But when he's horny enough, he gets shameless and desperate about what he wants, and god, nothing is more beautiful than Tom when he asks for what he wants. He feels something growing inside of him, not sure if it's warmth or heat, but seeing Tom like that, wanting him, needing him, definitely makes him feel so much better.

"Yeah?" Andy asks, tracing a finger over Tom's shoulder, close to his neck, just to give him goosebumps.

"Fuck yes, I want it so bad, and you deserve it too, Andy… Sir. You're the best Sir I could ask for, I just want… Want you to use me, want you to cum on me, want to kiss you all over and worship you and pleasure you, you're so gorgeous..." He hides his face in Andy's shoulder for a bit, but his hips don't stop moving. He whines, "Andy..."

"Address me properly," Andy snaps, feeling the edges of worry clear from his mind and giving way to that wonderful feeling of clear-mindedness, of power, where nothing matters but his own pleasure. "And maybe I'll give you what you want, if you earn it."

Tom nods, hips full on thrusting now, and Andy snaps again. "Stay still."

And he does, immediately, without question, biting his lip and keeping his eyes shut with effort. Andy can feel his thighs clenching and spasming over his, trying to keep himself from moving, trying to be good. He hums in appreciation, but doesn't praise him for it, not yet.

"I'll get you ready," Andy explains, before reaching to Tom's hair, and starts to undo his bun, as slow as possible, just to watch him squirm. He gets so impatient when Andy undresses him, which is why Andy never misses a chance to drag it out.

He begins by removing Tom's jacket, sliding his hands slowly over his shoulders, then down his back, feeling the firm muscle there, digging his nails just a little bit so he can see Tom's eyes flutter in bliss. When the jacket falls to the floor, Andy begins circling the hem of his shirt, sliding until his hands are back on front, fingers just close enough to Tom's cock for him to feel Tom tense in his hands, so damn sensitive to his touch, so needy. God, he can't get enough of this, but he pretends that he doesn't notice, lets Tom try and keep himself together as Andy's hands slide over his belly, then chest, over the shirt, collarbone, wrapping and resting on Tom's throat just so he feels the threat of it, before Andy finally grabs the back of the shirt's collar and tugs, taking it off. Then he slides his hands back down, making sure to run a finger just over the sensitive spot where his pecs end, then lower, over his ribcage, belly, hips, next to the bruises where Andy had grabbed him the night before, then back to the middle, just over the bulge in his pants, and Tom finally breaks and jerks up slightly, letting out a little moan.

"Sir," he whines, "please, please, I-" Andy continues to circle the head of his cock with his finger, "please!"

"Patience," is all he says, before going back to his painfully light movements, imagining Tom's needy cock twitching under his fingers, imagining the effort Tom makes not to thrust up or keep begging for more, just because Andy told him not to. "You know how much I like playing with your pretty little cock. You said you wanted to serve me, didn't you?"

"Yes- yes, Sir."

He hums, noncommittally, not looking at him. "Good." He teases the tip of his clothed cock some more, enjoying the way his mind zeroes on that, the way he feels like he has all the power and the time in the world. Finally, he pats Tom's thigh once. "Get off, and take off the rest of your clothes. Get the lube and a condom."

Tom gets up, a little shaky, and does as instructed, while Andy reaches down to the drawer under the bed where he keeps his dick's spine and a few of their toys. He gets the spine, then adjusts his packer briefs so he can put it on - best purchase of his life, really, those briefs. So much easier to use than a regular strap-on and it makes the packer sit over his clit just right, making a little suction and pressure. Andy couldn't be happier that he was already wearing them.

Tom gets back with everything he asked right in time for Andy to finish making his dick hard, and goes on to put the condom on and cover Andy's cock in lube with the kind of attention that makes Andy hold his breath. Tom's so careful, yet eager, and adoring, about it. Andy feels like the hottest guy in the world.

Once he gets permission, Tom sits on his cock, slowly, getting adjusted to it - admittedly, Andy went a little overboard when he bought his first cock. Andy waits until Tom is fully seated, littering his neck with little kisses and praise for how well he's taking him, how pretty he looks, until Tom looks fully comfortable and ready to start complaining if Andy doesn't start fucking him in earnest soon. That's when Andy shows him the other item he pulled from the drawer - Tom's favorite collar.

Tom's reaction is instantaneous. He throws his head back, moving over Andy's cock as he lets out a breathless, almost choked moan; the hands he had resting on Andy's shoulders suddenly squeezing full force in his need.

"God, you're such a whore," Andy says, casually, and Tom nods, even as he flushes. The collar is just a simple black one, with a little hoop for the leash, but inside they had it engraved with the words Andy's whore, and it left visible marks that could be seen for a few hours after they took it off. It never failed to drive Tom crazy, so it always drove Andy crazy, too. "Stay still," he warns, and Tom nods, breathing heavily, gripping Andy's shoulder as tight as he can as he stays frozen in place. Andy slowly puts it around his neck, checking with his finger to make sure it's not too tight, and the second he clasps it in place, Tom's whole body relaxes, a content little sigh escaping his lips, his face slack and blissed out. He likes being owned, so much. Andy can't get enough of it. "Good?" he asks, just to make sure it's not too tight.

"Perfect," Tom answers, the words leaving him in a sigh. Andy then ties the leash to the headboard, making sure that they're just far enough from it that he'll be feeling its pull the whole time. Tom lets out a moan. "Thank you, Sir."

Andy smirks. "Now, here's what I want you to do," he says, "you're going to ride me, just like that, and you're not going to come until I tell you to. You're definitely not going to come before I do. If you come close, you'll have to tell me. I want to hear you scream, so make as much noise as you want. Do you understand?"

Tom nods again, almost dizzyingly quick. "Yes, Sir."

"Good, then get to it."

Tom doesn't need to be told twice. He starts riding him, slowly at first, trying to find the perfect angle for Andy - not himself, Andy notices, pleased. Once it's perfect, Andy orders, "faster, slut,” and Tom obeys, as always, working up speed as he tries to keep himself upright, feeling the tug of his leash with every movement, moaning the whole time. “Good boy,” Andy says, and Tom’s responding whine is high pitched, embarrassing, needy. He gets even faster then, starting to babble as he keeps on working, and Andy just stays casually in place, not having to do a single thing while Tom works to give him pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so perfect, did you know that?" Tom asks, quickly sliding down on Andy's cock, making sure he puts all this weight in the end so Andy's cock will press down against his clit just the way he likes, making sure to go as deep as possible, "I've been dreaming of your cock for days, god, Sir, nothing's better than this," he hides his face in Andy's shoulder, speeding up even more, thighs shaking with the effort, and Andy puts a fist in his hair and pulls, watching as Tom throws his head back and lets out a scream, working even faster on Andy's cock. "Sir!," he whines, "oh, thank you, thank you, feels so good, oh my god, please, I'm gonna-"

"No, you won't," Andy interrupts, "I'm not even close to coming yet. Keep working, slut."

"Y-yes, Sir," he whines, going faster, deeper, and Andy makes it harder for him, keeps pulling at his hair to expose his neck, litters kisses and bites on his exposed throat, grabs his thigh and squeezes hard enough to bruise so Tom remembers he's his, his whore, his toy.

"I love it when you get like this," Andy says, doing his best to keep his tone even, even as he's a little breathless from pleasure, from power, "I bet you want to come so bad, don't you? If I'd just give you the word, you'd be making a mess of yourself, coming on my cock right now-"

"Fuck! Yes, yes, Sir, please, I'm so close."

Andy smiles. "No."

Tom whines, so cute, adorable, and Andy is nice enough to leave a little kiss on his shoulder, grounding, calming him down. Before going right back to torturing him, "no, you don't get to come for a long time yet. I want you just like this, on edge, tasting it…" Andy grins. "Tell me how close you are, baby."

"I'm- I'm so close-"

Andy slaps him in the face. "You can do better than that."

"Fuck, I feel like I'm going to explode, I'm so close, I want it so bad, and you feel so good, God, you have no idea what you do to me, Sir, your cock is so perfect, it hurts, I need it- need to cum on your cock, Sir, please-"

"No."

Tom chokes on a moan, and starts to go even faster. He lets out a little whine, something Andy thinks was supposed to be a word, but doesn't come close.

"See," Andy says, "this is why I won't let you come. Look at you - every time I tell you no, you get so desperate, so obedient - it's what you want, isn't it? You want me to keep telling you no, you want to know your pleasure doesn't matter, that you're just here to serve me."

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes-"

"Good, then keep going. And beg all you want- I like telling you no, too."

Tom does. He begs, and he says thank you when Andy denies him, again and again and again. Thank you, Sir, thank you for using me, for putting me in my place, I'm yours, I'm yours. And he keeps on praising Andy, praising his cock, his body, the way he fucks him and uses him, no one else makes me feel like this, no one deserves to be worshipped and served like you, Sir, I want to make you feel good-... Until even the clear-minded state of domspace begins to crumble and Andy feels nothing but pleasure, and confidence, and power, and he cums to the sound of Tom praising him and begging, once, twice, three times, until his head is clear again and everything, even the need to chase his own pleasure, is gone, and he just feels perfect.

"Stop," he orders Tom, who's still babbling more and more incoherently, endless praise and worship, and Andy finds that he worships Tom right back. "I want you to get my cock as deep inside you as you can, and stay still. I'm going to play with your dick for a while, and when I tell you to, you can come. You did well today, baby."

Tom nods, suddenly struggling to use his words. "T-thank you, Sir," he says, already frozen in place, thighs clenching with the effort not to move and also shaking with all the effort he did before.

Andy coos. "Poor baby. You were so good to me today. Let me take care of you."

"You always- always do, Sir," Tom replies, and Andy smiles.

He gives Tom a long, slow handjob, making sure Tom stays still through it, enjoying the way his thighs shake on top of Andy's, the pressure of Tom sitting tight on his cock, the way his arms also shake with effort where they rest around Andy's neck; Tom's pretty, exposed throat all marked up around his collar, his breathless little whines as Andy makes sure to do it just the way he likes it, makes his cock turn red with need; watches Tom bite his lip, because when he has to keep still he becomes so quiet and needy, even as the little whines go through his lips… Until Andy finally says, "come for me, baby," and Tom screams through an orgasm that lasts almost a minute, hanging on to Andy as tightly as he can to keep himself anchored through the pleasure.

And then Andy holds him, and Tom holds him back, and they hold each other.

----

A while later, they've cleaned up Tom's cum so it doesn't get all sticky on Andy's chest, and Andy's finally taken off those damn briefs - they're great for sex, but get pretty tight when you wear them for a long time - and Andy holds Tom against his chest. He's humming, contently, and if anyone had told him at the beginning of the day that he'd be comfortable enough to have someone close to him while he's fully naked, he'd - well, probably assume they meant Tom, but still be skeptical.

"How do you feel?" Tom asks after a little while, finally opening up his eyes and saying hello to the world.

"That's supposed to be my line," Andy laughs.

"I feel great. Perfect. Next time, I wanna do it for longer. A week? Let's try a week. Or two weeks…?"

Andy laughs. "Let's not make too big of a leap yet."

"Fine. A week sounds good. Great. And now that we've established that denial is totally bomb for me, how are you feeling?"

"Honestly? I'm feeling great, too," Andy admits, playing with a little stray of Tom's hair, swirling it around his finger, "I think I needed that, a little bit. Who'd have thought that having you ride me and praise my cock cures dysphoria."

"Every trans top on every forum I've ever visited."

"Let me have my moment of realization," Andy mumbles, faux-annoyed. Tom just laughs, holding him closer.

"I'm just glad I could help," he says.

"Please tell me you didn't ride my cock just to help."

"Well, no, in case you hadn't noticed, I was horny as fuck. I just tried to, you know. Use that to give you a little push. Since you wanted to. Y'know. Also, it was all true. So..."

"Thanks, love," Andy says, earnestly. "I love you."

"I love you more."

They bicker about it, and Andy's smiling the rest of the day.

#it lives #tom sato #tomoichi sato #andy kang #tom x andy #andy x tom #it lives in the woods #ilitw #it lives beneath #ilb #it lives anthology #smut #i am back on my bullshit ig

9 notes · View notes

cagestark · 5 years ago

Text

-Proxy Chapter 2-

Chapter One | Chapter Two

Warning: for some reason not of my italics have transferred over from AO3. My heart aches. Now you can’t imagine the wild inflections in my voice, if I were narrating this to you. i’m truly sorry. Thanks

Read here on AO3.

Whatever the hell that was—Tony can’t seem to put it behind him. It should be easy. All he did was hook up the young man he’s mad for with a beautiful woman. That’s normal. People do that all the time. So what if he watched them suck each other’s souls out. So what if he saw the kid hard. Big deal. Not the weirdest thing to ever happen to Tony. Not by far.

But he can’t stop thinking about it. The number of inappropriate erections (and really, there is no appropriate erection when it comes to pining after your nineteen-year-old mentee and teammate) he’s found himself sporting at all hours of the day increases exponentially. The seedy part of his mind that files away Peter’s orgasmic sounds is now teeming with new data: the flash of the young man's pearly teeth, the glimpse of pink tongue, the whine—

Tony is having more wet dreams now than he has in the last fifteen years combined. He fixes that by not sleeping. Genius solution.

He almost convinces himself that it’s sleep deprivation on Saturday when Peter returns from university, when he raises his chin and sets his jaw and asks if Tony knows like, anyone who would be willing to have sex with him.

“FRIDAY—”

“No stroke, boss.”

“Is that crazy to ask?” Peter says, pulling at his hair. “Who am I kidding, that’s like, totally crazy. Oh my God. I’m so sorry Mr. Stark. Please pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“I’m actually not completely convinced that I heard you correctly in the first place, so run it by me one more time.”

“I just—the kissing lesson, it worked out really well. But, I’ve still got no other experience. I mean, obviously I’m a—a virgin,” Peter says. His face is red as a tomato. “There’s so much pressure! Everybody says that the first time has to be with someone special and it’s going to mean so much and all the build up has me so nervous I just want to be sick. I want to get it over with.”

“So.”

“So I was wondering if, you knew anybody who would be willing to be my…my first. Time. You know.”

Tony rubs at his forehead. Stroke or not, he’s getting a headache. His mind feels fit to bursting, and the whole thing makes him vaguely sick. What the fuck is he supposed to say to this? Part of him wants to tell Peter to go out the old-fashioned way: pick up a person at a fucking bar or something for God’s sake. But this is Peter. His Peter. Not his Peter—but totally his Peter. Does he want the kid in a bar, buying some stranger drinks? Does he want Peter’s first time (and yeah, maybe it’s not such a big deal as some people make it out to be, but it’s all relative anyway, and the point is that Peter feels vulnerable about it), does he want to leave it up to some fumbling college student?

“I—I’ll make a call.”

But ten seconds with his phone in his hand has him coming back into the room. He gets the briefest glimpse of Peter sitting hunched over with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, muttering something under his breath before the kid looks up, eyes wide and wild.

“What kind of genitals are we talking about?” asks Tony.

“What?”

“I literally don’t know how to be more straightforward than that. Gender—sex—personal preferences for genitals and orientations. Because, to be perfectly honest, right now Natasha is at the top of my list again. What do you think?”

“Actually, I—I want a man. A cis man, I guess—the, you know, the penis—”

“You want a penis.”

“I mean, yeah, ideally. I’m pansexual but, I kind of want to—” Peter trails off, mumbling.

“I’m getting old, Peter, speak up—”

“I want to bottom. Oh my God, could I like, drop dead right now? Please?”

Tony is wondering the same thing—about himself. Peter wants a dick in his ass. Okay. Nothing wrong with that. Not like Tony hasn't taken a few himself in his time. Tony has a perfectly functioning sex organ that could absolutely fit the parameters that Peter is looking to fill, but there’s no reason to bring that up. Because surely if the kid was interested in Tony, he’d come out and say something.

“And sex workers, are you yay, nay—?”

“I mean, MJ says that s-sex is a service—”

“Got it. Go get some water. Lay down. Are you about to pass out right now? Jesus, kid, take a breath.”

Tony makes some calls. Sex work is still illegal in New York City, but Tony knows plenty of people who indulge. As long as everything is safe and consensual, Tony could care less; he figures he has real crimes to worry about. A friend leads him to a friend who recommends a man closer to Peter’s age than either of them are to Tony, and the description is, well, everything Tony could hope for, for Peter’s partner: blonde, built, flexible (“and I mean that in many ways, Tony, many ways,” his friend had guaranteed), and talented enough.

He can be at the penthouse in two hours.

Upstairs, Peter is literally shaking.

“You don’t have to do this,” Tony says. “I can call him off. You can call him off, at any time. There’s nothing wrong with waiting, kid, and there’s nothing wrong with being nervous about your first time. That just means it’s important to you.”

“I’m not backing out,” Peter says. His eyes are ablaze, even if they can’t catch on Tony’s for longer than a few moments at a time.

Tony feels like he’s leading the kid to the gallows. He turns away to plant his hands flat on the glossy wood of the bar and berate himself. “This is not normal,” Tony mutters.

“Nothing about my life ever is,” Peter says. When Tony glances over his shoulder, the kid gives a smile that (while it is shaky) is genuine. It hits Tony then, that this young man he’s infatuated with is actually going to fuck someone else, thanks to Tony. Of all the stupid, convoluted plans that Tony has cooked up or carried out, this one is truly up there with the worst of them. His self-destructive strategies are downright legendary. This is one for the goddamn books.

“Boss?” FRIDAY says. “A Mr. Finch is here. Shall I direct him to the penthouse?”

Tony looks to Peter. Peter nods.

“Go ahead, baby,” Tony says to her.

He braces a hand on the kid’s shoulder, lest he blow away in the draft from the air conditioning vent. Peter leans into the touch. This is Tony’s life. He gets to put warm fatherly hands on the kid’s shoulder while the man who fucks him rides up in the elevator.

When the doors part, there is a very handsome twenty-eight-year-old on the other side. He is taller than Tony and Peter, obviously well taken care of: dressed nicely, groomed, with soft looking hair and eyes cornflower blue. His clothes are well tailored to display his fit body, and Tony stands them side by side internally, measures them up so he can see all the ways that he falls short. This is the best choice for Peter. Peter deserves someone like this, not some broken old man.

“I take it you’re Peter?” the guy says. He’s got a bag slung over his shoulder that he shifts to reach out and shake Peter’s hand, and the size difference between the two makes Tony swallow. The man flashes Tony a smile. He teases warmly: “I know who you are.”

“Most do,” Tony says. Tony ignores the outstretched hand. Still, he feels slimy. "Tony."

“I’m Daniel. Are you joining us?”

Tony nearly chokes. “No—just handing him off into your expert hands—”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter says lowly. “Could I, could I talk to you about something?”

They leave Daniel on the sofa and convene behind the bar, standing close enough to whisper without being overheard. Tony literally can’t imagine what else Peter could want from him, maybe a blood oath, maybe Tony’s heart or head on a platter. But what the kid asks for is actually so, so much worse.

“Will you stay, Mr. Stark?” Peter looks at him with huge, swimming eyes. “I’m—I’m nervous. I’d just feel better if I wasn’t alone.”

“You want me to stay.”

“I mean. Yeah.”

“You want me to be in the room while you fuck Abercrombie and Finch over there?”

Peter groans, pressing his palm to his eyes. “Okay, never mind, you’re right, that’s way too much. You’ve already done so much for me, and of course you wouldn’t want to be there, that’s, like, that’s gross right? It’s just, I know you’d never let anything happen to me, and—”

The problem is that Tony can’t ever tell the kid no.

That’s how he ends up in the armchair of his largest guest bedroom watching Steve Roger’s Jr. and Peter sitting on the bed together, talking.

“A virgin? Oh, that’s awesome,” Daniel says. He's got a surfer vibe going to him, much better suited for Malibu than New York City.

“Really?” Peter asks flatly.

“Yeah. Virgins are really great partners: very teachable, very thoughtful. You get a guy who’s been having sex for years and they think they’re sex Gods or something, they think the way they’ve been doing it is the right way, just because they’ve been doing it for so long,” Daniel blathers. Tony squints. This punk isn’t talking about him, right? He’s not even glancing at Tony (except for sometimes, when he smiles soft and sweet). Surely, it’s just Tony’s own raging insecurities. He’s not like those people. He’s fucking Tony Stark. Adaptation is his middle name.

“That, actually that makes me feel a little better. Thanks,” Peter says. His hands are clasped in his lap, knuckles white. “Do we need to talk about anything else, like, like protection and stuff?”

“Condoms are a must, and I brought my own, I hope that’s okay.”

“Yeah, of course—”

“I’m down for giving or receiving oral and anal, down for any light kink. No means no—if one of us says no, we stop. You trust me to do that and I trust you, that’s what this partnership is all about.”

“That sounds fair,” Peter says. Tony agrees from where he’s wishing to become a ghost in the corner. He idly wishes that maybe the floor will open up and swallow him whole, but Tony has never been so lucky. “I kind of want to receive, I guess. If that’s okay.”

“Of course. Don’t worry, Peter, I’ll do all the heavy lifting. You just relax and have a good time. Do you want to get started?”

“I mean, okay.”

Daniel ducks his neck, takes Peter’s chin in his hand and kisses him. This is worse, so much worse than watching him be with Natasha, because at least Tony likes Natasha, knows and trusts her. At least Tony knows the kind of person she is and that she wouldn’t take Peter’s vulnerability for granted. This stranger doesn’t even know the kind of gift Peter is giving him.

Peter seems receptive enough. Tony can almost see the cogs in Peter’s mind working while he remembers everything he learned with Natasha. Delicately, his hand comes up to rest on Daniel’s jaw, and the blond man hums. Their heads turn more, cheeks hollowing as their lips part and tongues touch. Suddenly Peter breaks off the kiss, pulling back a little, eyes fluttering open. He goes back in—but then he breaks off again, a little furrow forming between his eyebrows.

“Too much tongue,” Tony mutters, more to himself than anyone else.

Daniel breaks the kiss, glancing over to the shadows where Tony is gathering dust like a perverted, decrepit vampire. The guy’s lips are slick and pink from how rough he’s been, and they’ve only been kissing for a minute or two. “Sorry, did you say something?”

Tony clears his throat. He waves a hand towards them. “You’re using too much tongue—the kid’s not into it.”

Daniel blanches. He looks to Peter who ducks his head, face red.

“It was great,” Peter says. “Just—wet.”

“Okay,” Daniel says, slow. “Less tongue. Got it.”

When they resume kissing, it’s obvious that the blond is taking Tony’s advice to heart. The kissing seems softer, more sensual, and Peter begins to shift on the lush bedspread like he’s antsy and can’t keep still. The erection he’s sporting might have something to do with that. Tony can’t help but be a little hard himself after a while, when the kid starts making these cute little noises in the back of his throat that Daniel swallows whole, when Peter shifts and kneels up a little until the two are equal height and Daniel pulls him onto his lap. He looks so tiny there, probably resting flush up against Daniel’s hard cock—because of course the guy will be hard, who wouldn’t get hard with such a sweet young man in their lap kissing them so feverishly?

Daniel coaxes Peter onto his back. His dark clothes blend into the dark bedspread, but Tony knows that when he’s naked (and okay, okay, somehow Tony didn’t even think of that, didn’t think that he’d been seeing the kid naked which now that he acknowledges it is quite obvious but also both terrifying and arousing), anyway, when the kid is naked, his skin is going to glow it will be so pale spread against the black sheets.

Tony lifts one leg to rest the ankle on his knee and hopefully obscure his hard on, because for some reason the kid keeps glancing over to Tony with this look on his face, like he’s wondering, Am I doing okay? Is this okay? Tony has no answers for those questions, because Daniel is pushing up the hem of Peter’s t-shirt exposing that pale midriff, the light pink nipples that are already pebbled from arousal. On his back like this, Peter’s erection is more obvious, a nice average sized bulge in his skinny jeans that makes him hiss whenever Daniel brushes against it.

The jealousy is intense. Worse is just the longing, the desperation to cross that room and push the blond aside and place the most sensual, sucking kisses along that torso, to feel the weight of the Peter’s cock against his palm.

This will ruin Tony; he knows it. There will never be a chance of recovery from this, not when he knows how the kid looks and sounds in the throws of passion.

This will change everything.

Daniel reaches Peter’s nipples and licks across one with the flat of his tongue. Peter keens, his hips jerking upward desperate for friction. God, Peter’s so sensitive (and couldn't Tony have already guessed that from 'senses dialed to eleven'?), tangling his fingers in the bedsheets, eyes squeezed shut, mouth fallen open just from someone tonguing at his nipples. Tony can’t help but watch his expression as he pants—but then the furrow between his flat brows is back, mouth pinching together. Tony flicks his eyes down to Daniel who is biting at what is surely one of Peter’s most sensitive places—

“Stop,” Tony says.

Daniel jerks back like he’s been stung, glancing over his shoulder at Tony, face exasperated. Beyond him, Tony sees Peter’s face though, and it is relieved. It is grateful. It is trusting, those whiskey eyes burning into Tony’s, mouth curling up a little. “What is it now?” Daniel asks.

“He’s sensitive—”

“Are you sure you don’t want to join us?”

“—just be gentler with him, look at him, he doesn't like it when you—”

“He’s liking it just fine,” Daniel says, reaching down to squeeze at Peter’s cock pointedly. The kid yelps.

Tony stands up, one heartbeat away from activating his suit, because that did not sound like a yelp of pleasure—the blond must see the expression on Tony’s face because his hands fly upwards. Stop, don’t shoot!

“I get it,” Daniel says quickly. “More gentle. Sensitive. Noted.”

Immediately Tony feels like a fucking idiot. What was he going to do, blow the guy away with one of his gauntlets? He resumes his seat, determined not to say another word. He’s just supposed to be here for moral support, a flower on the wall.

“I like it,” Peter pants. His face is bright red even in the dim lighting.

“You like what, baby?” Daniel asks. The guy glances over his shoulder at Tony, brow raised, a pointed see? that makes Tony want to light him up. “Me being a little rough?”

Peter blushes. “No—um. When Mr. Stark tells you how to do it.”

That revelation silences the room and holds it in anticipation for several long moments. Tony’s mouth goes dry, cock aching between his legs. Daniel looks baffled, glancing from Peter sprawled on the bed to Tony in the armchair with all the caution of a man walking a minefield.

“I—okay?” Daniel says. He looks to Tony, shrugging a shoulder. “You cool with that?”

Tony rubs at the space between his eyebrows. How to say that no he’s not fucking okay with it! but also, it's going to make him harder than he's ever been. He’s yet to perfect how to say two opposing things in the same breath, though. This is all too much, it’s crossing lines he never even imagined approaching (alright, there might have been some imagining, but certainly no concrete steps taken). As he opens his mouth to say no, he spots the look on the kid’s face: anxious, eager, imploring.

And he can’t tell this kid no.

“Alright,” says Tony.

“Are you sure, Mr. Stark?” Peter breaths. He’s still hard. “I know this is so, so weird.”

“It’s like you said, kid, our whole lives are weird. Okay—well—go on, I guess. Action?” Tony claps his hands like a fucking clapperboard.

Daniel’s mouth twitches. “What should I do? Mr. Stark.”

In for a penny, in for a pound, Tony thinks. “Put your mouth back on his nipples, but be gentle with him this time. He’s sensitive. Whatever you’re thinking of as sensitive, you probably aren’t even close. It won’t take much just—” Daniel is following his direction, leaning down to lick a sweet, soft line over Peter’s left nipple. He takes it into his mouth and suckles at it, all soft and sweetness, and Peter whines, his hands coming up to clutch at the blond strands of hair. “There you go. See? That’s—that’s how he likes it.

“Switch, don’t overstimulate him too soon. He's likely to get overwhelmed by new stimulus. Use your hand to flick—yes, there you go. Gentle. He’s—” Precious, Tony thinks. He swallows. “He’s delicate.”

“Am not,” Peter moans, drawing the words out. His hips arch upwards, but Daniel is to the side of him and not looming over him, so there’s nothing for Peter’s aching cock to rub against.

“Shirt off,” Tony says. His mouth is so dry, he’d kill for a whiskey, neat. “It’s getting in the way.”

They sit up, puppets under his control. Let no one say that Tony doesn’t have control issues, that he doesn’t enjoy people following his explicit instructions, because all of this has him even harder than he thought himself possible to be without any physical stimulus, leaking precum in his pants, balls throbbing in time with his heart. Peter’s head disappears and then reappears as the shirt is tugged up and off, his curls rustled and messy. His eyes are heavy lidded—looking over Daniel’s shoulder at Tony.

“Kiss his neck,” Tony says, hopeful to get the kid to shut his eyes. That gaze is doing nothing healthy to him. “You know the drill. If you suck, suck softly. He bruises easily.”

Peter does shut his eyes, his head tilting back, mouth open in a silent sigh of pleasure. He shudders when Daniel kisses at the spot behind his ear, nipples beading to tiny aching points on his chest. “Please,” Peter breathes.

Tony inhales sharply. His hands are shaking where he clutches at the armrests of the chair to keep from palming his own cock. “Press him back down into the bed—lay over him. Give him something to grind up against. He’s needy.”

“What if he cums?” Daniel asks, already following instructions. Peter keens, his hips rutting up, ankles coming around to hook behind the older man's legs. Daniel mirrors him with a long groan, their hard cocks rubbing together, dry humping like two desperate teenagers instead of one. Meanwhile, Tony sits with the Eiffel Tower between his legs, trying to pretend like it isn’t even there.

“Hold off, Peter,” Tony says. His voice comes out a little harder than he intends it to, but the kid just nods furiously, eyes squeezed shut.

Peter whines unhappily, slowing his hips and letting his ankles come down from around the blond's legs until his feet are flat on the bed, toes curled. He shakes with the effort to hold himself still, teeth clenched. His eyes are misty and dazed when he opens them and searches for Tony’s face. “Yes Mr. Stark,” he says through his teeth. “I—I’ll try—”

Daniel snorts a little where he’s got his head in the crook of Peter’s neck, still placing wet kisses. “It really is like that, isn’t it?”

“What?” Peter breathes, distracted.

“You wish it was Tony Stark fucking you.”

Tony blinks. Peter shudders, eyes popping open.

“What?” Peter gasps. “I—what?”

Daniel resumes the grinding of his hips, the shock of his announcement waning the erection in the younger man’s pants. It’s simulated sex, the way he thrusts down, like they’re already undressed, like he’s stretched the kid open with his fingers and is balls deep inside him, thrusting to touch his belly button from the inside. The whole time, Peter’s eyes stare at the ceiling, wide and unseeing. “Yeah, that’s what gets you off, doesn’t it, baby? You like imagining dirty old men touching you and taking you, don’t you? It might as well be Tony fucking you right now, isn’t that right?”

Peter bursts into tears.

Tony crosses the room in three steps, planting a hand on Daniel’s shoulder and wrenching him off the bed. The younger man sprawls across the floor, tailbone thudding against the carpet, still dressed save for his shoes that he dropped off at the door. “Get out,” Tony says coldly.

“Jesus, man, you’re not allowed to touch me like that—”

“Get out, before I have you escorted off my property.”

“Fuck, I’m going. Christ. I don’t need all this Shakespearean bullshit anyway.” Daniel grabs his bag that he’d left at the foot of the bed, the one with the condoms and lube that he never got the chance to use. He gives Tony a cold look. “By the way, my fee is non-refundable. Don’t ever ask for me again.”

“Be thankful if it’s just the door that hits you on the way out,” Tony says.

Peter is sitting on the bed cross-legged, weeping into his hands. His shirt rests abandoned on the floor somewhere near Tony’s armchair. Carefully, he edges to the bed and gingerly sits on the dark bedspread. Jesus, what a shitshow this turned out to be, he thinks to himself. He goes to place a hand on the kid’s shoulder but thinks twice, not wanting to touch the bare skin, not after what Banana Republic said to upset him so much. “Peter—I won’t ask if you’re okay, because I do have eyes and clearly you aren’t, but—are you hurt?”

Peter shakes his head. Tony breaths a small sigh of relief.

“Want me to chase him down and let him kiss my gauntlet? I can have FRIDAY stop the elevator with him in it.”

Peter gives a wet laugh. He draws his palms away from his face, and his eyes are red and tender, cheeks damp with tears. Wiping at them with the back of his hand, he shakes his head again. “No—that’s illegal, Mr. Stark. He was just doing his job.”

“The offensive dirty talk? That wasn’t in his job description. I’m sorry, kid. He shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

The young man won’t even look at him, staring down at where his bare ankles cross, sniffing. “It wasn’t offensive,” Peter mutters, stopping Tony mid-sentence.

“Then—?”

“Mr. Stark, I’m so sorry,” Peter says, fresh tears dripping down his cheeks and off of his pointed little chin. He wrings his hands, knuckles white. “I really messed things up. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Peter, it’s okay,” promises Tony. “If anything, this is my fault. You just wanted more experience, and you trusted me to find someone—”

Peter looks him in the eye. There's a heat there, angry coals stoked back to blazing. “God, Mr. Stark. You’re so stupid. Natasha warned me, but I said there was no way you’d be this stupid.”

“Excuse me?”

“Daniel was right,” Peter says, voice raising with every word. “When, when I touch myself—I imagine it’s you. When I was with him, I just wanted to pretend he was you. When I asked you if you knew anyone who would help me with, with kissing and sex, I wanted you to offer, you dummy!”

#starker #nff #cagewrites #longfic

218 notes · View notes

guilianafms · 5 years ago

Text

new york’s very own guiliana rasananda was spotted on broadway street in gucci marmont logo - embellished leather sandals . your resemblance to lalisa manoban is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty third birthday bash . while living in nyc , you’ve been labeled as being doctrinaire , but also pragmatic . i guess being an aquarius explains that . three things that would paint a better picture of you would be the lingering scent of her perfume after she’s long gone , a fenty beauty gloss bomb as her staple to any makeup look , and the glitter of diamond encrusted jewelry on tanned skin .

hello ladies , gents , and nonbinary pals ! my name’s jin and i’m super stoked to be here ! i’ve seen this group in the tags over the years , and i decided that it was high time for me to slide in ( and now that my school’s closed .... indefinitely .... i’ve got the time ) . giuliana is fairly new so i’m still working out some kinks that may arise , but i have a pretty good idea of the direction i want her to go in ! i can’t believe that this is my first time playing lalisa in a couple of years , but since the chance arose , i decided to take it . i won’t chat too much , and i need to make a new d.iscord since i forgot the password to my old one but if anyone wants to plot , feel free to slide into my dms ( or i’ll slide into yours ! )

basic information .

FULL NAME : guiliana kanya rasananda .

NICKNAME(S) : gigi , lia , liana , ana .

BIRTHDATE + AGE : february 12th + 23 .

ZODIAC : aquarius .

HOMETOWN : new york , ny .

GENDER : cis female .

NATIONALITY : thai - american .

ETHNICITY : thai .

HEIGHT : 5′6″ .

LABEL(S) : the amaranth , the vixen , the trust fund baby , and the princess .

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : biromantic .

SEXUAL ORIENTATION : bisexual .

LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN : english , thai , japanese , and learning spanish .

OCCUPATION : socialite , ‘ model ’ , and youtuber / social media influencer .

POSITIVES : clear - headed , assiduous , self - reliant , pragmatic , and cosmopolitan .

NEGATIVES : disputatious , exigent , doctrinaire , selfish , and unscrupulous .

PLAYLIST : roxanne / arizona zervas , bad guy / billie eilish , body / loud luxury ft. brando , nasa / ariana grande , mother’s daughter / miley cyrus , sway with me / saweetie w. galxara , say so / doja cat , mad at me. / kiana ledé , apeshit / the carters , elastic / joey purp , watermelon sugar / harry styles , ain’t my fault / zara larsson , lemon / n.e.r.d. ft. rihanna / nice for what / drake , sugar / brockhampton , icon / jaden smith , zimzalabim / red velvet , come thru / joji , in my head / ariana grande , broke bitch / tiny meat gang , honey / lay , deserve / kris wu ft. travis scott .

biography .

let’s see if we can keep this short , am i right ladies ?

ratana saelim has humble beginnings in bangkok . her parents owned a small restaurant in their neighborhood , and they lived comfortably , but ratana still had to work hard to ensure that she got into college and could stay in college . she often did her homework behind the counter of the restaurant , and eventually went on to attend bangkok university .

she met her future husband at bangkok university , a fellow student named kamnan rasananda . he was studying business while she was studying law . in contrast to ratana , kamnan grew up in an extremely affluent home and was set to inherit his family’s company . he was a year older than ratana , and the two got married after her graduation with her master’s degree . they settled in bangkok following their wedding .

the years passed , and the couple established themselves in their respective fields . kamnan started his own business in real estate and construction , so they decided to expand out of asia and into the states . they made their home new york city , and settled easily into a multi - million dollar penthouse on the upper east side . since they were to focused on their careers , it wasn’t until they reached their mid - thirties when they had their first and only child , a daughter they named guiliana .

guiliana was a beautiful little baby who has an infectious personality while growing up . ratana and kamnan may have been busy people , but they never had an issue with putting work on pause to spend time with their daughter . the couple supported their daughter in everything that she did , and that even included when she turned fourteen and decided that she wanted to start doing youtube videos .

going through high school , guiliana had been a member of the photography and yearbook clubs , and this was at the same time that she started to truly focus on her channel . of course , her content at the time was quite cringy ( shoutout to that one song that everyone used in morning routines ) . as the years passed , she obtained the right equipment to make her content better .

by her senior year of high school , her channel grew to massive numbers . she dropped the makeup videos since she found that she was more interested in fashion than makeup , and was comfortable with sharing her personal style . she got a lot of backlash because she grew up rich and people often felt that she was ‘ flaunting ’ her lifestyle , but really , most of her clothes from the places that were often the rage at the time ( urban outfitters , brandy , etc ) with the occasional luxury piece like a purse or something .

now , she isn’t that active on youtube anymore since she’s grown into more of a socialite , but she’ll still do weekly vlogs , catching up videos , and her fashion videos . despite not being that active , her channel is still growing and has now amassed five million subscribers .

personality .

guiliana has been a part of youtube since she was a fourteen year old , so she’s been able to start ignoring the haters ! quite honestly has the most idgaf attitude towards people who have anything to say about her only showing luxury outfits and such on her channel . that’s all she knows since she grew up in that , but quite frankly she doesn’t care !

out of all of her labels , i’d say she mostly resonates with the trust fund baby . outside of her youtube channel , guiliana doesn’t do much other than spend money and sleep until eleven so don’t expect her to be out there making businesswoman moves .

don’t give her a compliment because what’s the saying ... give her an inch and she’ll take a mile ? that’s guiliana to a T ! she knows that she’s cute and her parents have only ever praised her , so she’s got something of an over inflated ego at times . she can go on and on , so please tell her ass to shut up if she starts taking it too far !

headcanons .

a born and bred new yorker , guiliana doesn’t possess a driver’s license . she gets driven around in a bentley bentayga and when her driver’s not available , she exclusively uses uber black to get around the city .

her style is pretty similar to lisa’s where one day she’s exclusively wearing streetwear , another day she’s a bit more feminine , and then sometimes she’s wearing pieces straight off the runway ! when it comes to her more feminine style i think of the youtuber kerina wang .

she’s most comfortable when she’s in her apartment . usually , she’s only wearing a lingerie set ( not the entire thing ) and lounging around . she’ll throw on a robe or something to answer the door , so just call her ahead of time .

i can’t make up my mind on how guiliana usually has her hair ( since lisa switches between long and short ) so we’ll just say that she gets extensions a lot ! currently , i love her long brown hair so click for reference here .

she has no real plans for the future ? she’s kinda of taking it day by day and enjoying her twenties while she has them . right now her main focus is her instagram and her youtube , and she has no real aspirations to do anything outside of that at the moment .

never leaves the house without wearing a pair of heels ? even when it’s cold outside , she’s wearing ankle boots with a heel or the ever elegant over - the - knee boots .

her go - to drink from starbucks is a cold brew with vanilla sweet cream . she doesn’t drink coffee with sugar .

wanted connections .

i’ll more than likely end up reblogging things into the tag i made for these , but since there’s nothing there right now , i’ll just list off some specifics that i’d love to have ! if none of these are to your taste , we could always brainstorm , work off chemistry , or let me know if there’s something that you think guiliana could fill !

i might end up sending this in to the main , but i’d love to have the fiancé that she left at the altar ! truth be told , i kind of feel as though she may have done it simply because she finally realized that things were moving too fast and she kinda of needed to pump the breaks ? she definitely didn’t do it in the best way , but it could be an interesting relationship / dynamic to explore .

she’s been in new york since forever so i just imagine there being a slew of connections stemming from that ? friendships , rivalries , and romantic connections ! idk why i love them so much , but i’d really love for her to have an ex best friend . we can determine why their friendship ended , but i really love exploring the demise of relationships .

my brain is blanking so 🤠 .

#wealthyhq:intro #shout out to the tnu / swt albums #really got me through this FNJSDBFHDS

15 notes · View notes

malachibrooks · 4 years ago

Text

MALACHI INTRODUCTION

( michael b jordan, cis male, he/him ) malachi brooks just strolled through the quad, the 33 year old English professor has been at the university for six years. rumor has it they are intelligent & domineering. i also hear they are heterosexual and they’re pretty into anal sex & daddy kink.

BASIC INFORMATION:

Full Name: Malachi James Brooks, Jr. Birthday: September 12 Age: 33 Gender: Cis Male Pronouns: He/Him Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Romantic Orientation: Heteroromantic Occupation: English Professor

PHYSICAL:

Height: 6’0 Weight: 180lbs. Eyes: Brown Hair: Black Distinguishing Features: His dimple when he smiles, his lips Face: Michael B. Jordan

MENTAL:

Positive: Intelligent, well-read, family-oriented Negative: Domineering, Impatient, Intolerant, brutally honest

MISC:

Kinks: public sex, threesomes, edging(giving), dirty talk, car sex, anal play/sex(giving), rimming(giving), oral sex(receiving and giving), daddy kink Anti-Kinks: race play/fetishization, water sports, scat, blood play, vore, age play, musk

BIOGRAPHY:

Education has always been important in the Brooks family. Malachi’s parents instilled it into him and his older sister from the moment they came out of the womb. While his sister took a liking to mathematics and science, books have always been Malachi’s forte. He didn’t care to watch tv that much or play with toys, he’d rather sit in his favorite wing-back chair near the window in the living room and read until the sunlight faded away and he had to strain his eyes to see the words on the page.

Growing up, Malachi was always quiet, a man of very few words. He’s always been that way though, introverted, doesn’t talk very much in crowds or social situations unless he’s being spoken to. He prefers alone time or time spent with just him and one or two other people. He didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, his friends were his books (and even embarrassingly, some of his friends were teachers).

Of course, this led to Malachi being very misunderstood growing up. He was small, while the other boys were hitting growth spurts, gaining muscles and playing sports, Malachi was stagnant — sitting in the library during lunch and reading during free periods. He was an outcast, most people just thought he was weird, and even a few of them picked on him. Malachi didn’t let it bother him too much though, he was far too smart for that.

His mother passed away in a car accident when he was a sophomore in high school, one that Malachi was also involved in, in fact, he was the one driving the car — which greatly impacted Malachi. His mother was everything, and for a while, Malachi didn’t really see the point in moving forward and growing. Luckily, his father recognized that and also recognized the important of therapy, and so Malachi was able to talk through that grief and guilt. He still carries the weight of that around with him to this day.

It wasn’t until after high school and during college that Malachi really started to bulk up. He found a few new ways to relieve some of the stress that came along with classes and the darkness that comes along with the guilt of what happened to his mother — working out and sex. Malachi lost his virginity in college, and he hasn’t looked back since. He works out every day now, he’s grown into his face and body, he carries himself with way more confidence than he once did, the man had a glow up — the man is fine as hell — his students even say he’s “sex on legs”.

Malachi got a teaching job right out of college, worked his way up to getting his PhD in English literature, which ultimately led him to the place he is now — Pinecrest, where his class has a reputation for being hard, and Malachi has a reputation for being a hardass. If you have to take Dr. Brooks, well, good luck with that.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

fellow professors and faculty — Malachi doesn’t have a lot of friends, but he’s friendly. He’s probably even carrying on an affair with a few of them, because processors can hookup like students, right?

Students — though he tries to refrain, even he — the moral statue that he is — can’t say no to someone who comes to his office offering something in exchange for a better grade in his class.

I’m always down for more connections of course! Just like this or hit me up if you’d like to plot!

@pinecrestrb

#❝ ━ intro.#phq.intros

1 note · View note

nandalorian · 6 years ago

Text

Since I posted my thoughts about how Roswell has adequately represented queer men on the show and completely shit the bed on their representation of most everything else, I need to address the epically fucked-up treatment of female queerness and the queer female gaze in the context of Isobel and Rosa. This has been bugging me for a few weeks, and the reveal of Noah as the fourth alien pretty much cemented my feelings on the matter. I know there are people who feel the way I do about it, but if there’s another post on the subject I just haven’t seen, please link me. And if you disagree completely about this too, that’s cool. Let’s discuss.

While in my last post I applauded the show on its treatment of Michael’s bisexuality, I still don’t feel great about the introduction of a Michael/Alex/Maria love triangle. It’s one thing for Carina to double down on her defense of love triangles and insist they are not an overused and biphobic trope in popular media--news flash, it is, and in this case it’s also potentially damaging to the one black woman on the show, who will almost certainly bear the brunt of fans’ ire for “stealing Michael away” if they go through with a Maria/Michael relationship. I’m sorry if I don’t take a random straight white woman’s insistence to the contrary as gospel. Saying your formative years were shaped by straight love triangles doesn’t change the fact that it’s an insulting trope to women and an outright damaging one to queers, not even taking into consideration how the two intersect, or further when you consider POC characters, etc. You can’t compare straight relationships with queer ones, in the same way you can’t compare white experiences with nonwhite ones. To insist otherwise denies a whole system of privilege that drastically shapes and influences people’s lived experiences.

But that isn’t what I want to address, because it’s another thing altogether to come for female sexuality and queerness. If I was willing to maybe give Malex a pass on the good-intentions-written-badly front, this is a hill I’m ready to die on. Isobel’s arc in season 1 of RNM demonstrates a lack of understanding that these are identities equally vulnerable to attack, exploitation, and misrepresentation--maybe even more so--as male queerness. That the outrage about Malex drowns out this other but no less important conversation kind of reaffirms the point I’m trying to make.

More under the cut.

Female sexuality has always struggled to find positive representation in popular media, no matter the time period or culture. Compared to male sexuality, it is not taken seriously, always played against the male gaze, or disregarded altogether because it excludes men. Queer female desire challenges societal structures around male desire and sexuality because it just… doesn’t require men to function and in fact actively rejects them. This is obviously a problem because the patriarchy loves it when men are shown to be extraneous and irrelevant.

A lot of us know what it is to be invalidated as queer women, socially and sexually. Put your hand up if you’re a woman (in which I include cis and trans women, of course) or nonbinary individual who desires women and has been told, oh, you just haven’t met the right man yet, or oh, you’re just putting on a show for male attention. We have all been there and experienced this kind of erasure to various degrees of aggressiveness. This refrain is especially loud for bisexual women, who suffer erasure and ridicule from queer and straight communities alike, but the fact is, women’s sexuality has always been portrayed as less than or dependent upon that of a man’s. That isn’t to say bisexual men don’t also experience bi erasure. They do, and this is as much a product of homophobia as it is the primacy of the queer male gaze even within queer spaces and contexts. But in this case I’m addressing that of female and nonbinary bi-erasure and biphobia.

Furthermore, the role of queer women in society and popular media has always been underrepresented compared to that of gay men, or seen as more harmless or less significant, groundbreaking, or offensive for a couple of reasons: namely that a lot of people have played down or played off the existence of female sexuality and desire because they doubt its validity to begin with, or it’s “allowed” because it’s desirable to the male gaze. In some ways this has worked in our favour because subversive or queer female behaviour and desire in media have been able to fly beneath the radar, but it’s still a symptom of a greater problem.

I include this preamble because the writers of Roswell New Mexico have stunningly managed to ignore or remain ignorant to this context. The straight women on the show are shown to express their sexuality in upfront or positive ways, even opening up conversations about kink and reversing gender roles, but often in problematic ways too. The show sometimes fails the Bechdel Test or reduces characters, especially WOC like Maria, to having no purpose but to desire male characters and be desired by them, or portrays them as unable to want sex without quickly falling in love the way Maria seemingly has done with Michael. They’ve known each other for over a decade, and yet Maria only catches feelings after they’ve had sex, a night that, supposedly, meant nothing to her but quickly is revealed not to be the case. Interesting.

But beyond even that, my beef is with the whole Isobel-might-be-bisexual-and-in-love-with-Rosa-Ortecho storyline. I was excited about it at first; I couldn’t believe our luck that we had not one, but two bisexual characters on the show, and one of them was a bisexual woman married to a really awesome and seemingly caring South Asian man. But it was not to be, and this to me is ridiculously tone deaf and offensive in light of the fact that she was possessed by a male alien the whole goddamn time.

This tells us two equally disturbing things about the writers’ take on the queer female gaze and queer female sexuality: a) according to them, in this context, it literally doesn’t exist, and b) it is wholly a product of and subject to the male gaze.

From the promo for 1x12 it looks like they are going to delve a little bit into the mindfuck around consent due to Noah effectively brainwashing/tricking Isobel into marrying him, but one aspect of this I’d be surprised if they acknowledge is how he has also robbed Isobel of agency over her own sexuality. Not only has she been in a nonconsensual relationship with Noah this whole time, but he’s stripped her of the ability to discern whether her desires are her own, including the possibility that she is bisexual. As a woman, how can Isobel take her own sexuality seriously/see it as valid when she’s been forced to reconcile with the fact that, until now, it hasn’t been?

And that’s not even scratching the surface of the fact that a man used a woman, against her will and without her knowledge, to kill another woman. All over the simple fact that Rosa didn’t desire him/Isobel by extension. This stupid-as-fuck storyline is literally about weaponizing queer female sexuality in order to do violence against women.

Just think about that for a second.

To make matters worse, Noah is a South Asian man and represents a community that is already marginalized in white media and society. Brown men have, in white culture, been relegated to two-dimensional stereotypes, rejected as love interests, and often portrayed as villains, and instead of positively developing an Indian character in a multiracial relationship and using that representation for good, he’s been made to violate his wife and use her to kill another woman. My girl @insidious-intent has written a really fantastic post to that end and I’d encourage you to read it. According to Carina, hiring Karan Oberoi to play Noah was colourblind casting. But viewers aren’t naive enough to buy that it’s ever that simple, or it shouldn’t be. I don’t see how you can write a nonwhite character the same as you would a white one and not expect it to have deeper or more damaging implications.

So my point, or at least one of them, is this: the failure of Roswell New Mexico to its queer viewers isn’t just that they’ve desecrated a ship as sacred as Malex or, at best, totally failed to do it justice. Roswell has failed us by invalidating and retconning female sexuality, and if this isn’t something we should all be angry about, straight and queer viewers alike, I don’t know what to tell you. While people are justified in expressing their anger to Carina about Malex, I think it’s also important to acknowledge and protest JUST AS LOUDLY the queer female angle. When you are thinking about how to represent, express, and phrase your disappointment to the production team, remember this goes far deeper than Malex. She has let us all down in ways that have nothing to do with our ship potentially not becoming a reality by the end of this season. She’s let POC viewers down just as resoundingly hard, both distinctly and factoring in the intersectionality of their writing choices.

All writers make mistakes. I want to put that out there. And I also want to put it out there that the issues around queer and POC representation are serious and disappointing, but not insurmountable if the writing team shows a willingness to learn, improve, and listen if the show is greenlit for season 2. But that isn’t what they’re doing. Carina has taken a stand, via Twitter, that they’ve done nothing wrong, and that is a big red flag that the writing team isn’t as woke as it likes to pretend and definitely not interested in listening to criticisms about their politics or how they try to convey them. So are her efforts of trying to silence bisexual viewers with legitimate criticism, or POC viewers doing the same thing. She and the writers would rather praise themselves for their token representation than acknowledge, listen to, and learn from real people expressing real concerns and sharing lived experiences.

#roswell new mexico #isobel evans #queer representation #female sexuality #meta

100 notes · View notes

satans-tiddies · 6 years ago

Text

themintycupcake replied to your post “Do antis even realize that the original anti-yaoi/anti-fujoshi...”

This is interesting because it shows us how out-of-touch the queer community is on a generational level. There's a big vilification of gay sex in younger circles that isn't hard to see if you look closely enough, even in intracommunity discourse outside of fujoshi discourse. Just this big generational gap WRT sex that we haven't closed yet.

That’s very true. There’s a huge vilification of anything sexual in the current generation of queer teens/young adults, but gay and trans sexuality and kink are always hit the hardest. The pressure to conform to heteronormative societal expectations is enormous.

I read an article a few years ago about the reason why LGBTQ+ youth these days seem so much more conservative and regressive, and it has a lot to do with improving the optics of our community in the push for specific goals: gay marriage, and to a lesser extent, legally changing your gender marker for trans people.

To gain the acceptance/support of straight cis people in these specific causes, the queer community gave up (or at least quieted down) on causes considered more radical, such as sexual liberation, questioning gender roles and the gender binary, etc. I remember that between 2000-2015, the overwhelmingly dominant narrative pushed by activists was “we [gay people] are just like you [straight people]”, and the image of a couple of middle-class white, cis, perisex, able-bodied, conventionally attractive men with a house, white picket fence, a dog and 2.5 kids was largely favoured. It’s the image that conservative cishet people would find the most appealing: nothing about it is transgressive except that both members of the couple are men.

While more “radical” queer people were quiet, their ideas weren’t being passed down and expanded upon by the newest generation of queer youth, and that gave an opening for radical feminists to influence them. Radfem ideals were particularly popular on the internet during the early 2010′s; you couldn’t browse a few gay-positive twitter or tumblr accounts without encountering at least one radfem.

And that’s how we get the current backlash to the sex-positive movement—including people saying that sex-positivity forces people to engage in kink (???) even though informed consent is the CORE of the movement—and the resurgence of TERFs and lesbian separatists.

I cannot for the life of me find that article now, but from my experience, it seems to be onto something.

Some of the people reading this might be thinking that I’m a conspiracy theorist, and mindlessly blaming everything on TERFs, to which I would recommend doing a bit of research and seeing just how much radical feminism has infiltrated feminist academia, and how influential it is in politics.

There is an article on Feminist Current (a radfem/TERF/SWERF blog) that describes how there are a lot of radfems professors in colleges/universities and how they subtly expose their students to radical feminist and trans/sex-worker exclusionary ideals; the author describes it as the “invisible labour” of radfem academics.

Radfem organizations such as the Women’s Liberation Front (WoLF) receive funding and support from right-wing, conservative Christian groups like the Heritage Foundation (right-wing think tank) and Focus on the Family (anti-LGBTQ+ organization).

So no, it’s not a stretch to consider that the conservatism of current LGBTQ+ youth might have something to do with their influence.

#themintycupcake #sex negativity #purity culture #radfem #TERF #SWERF #homophobia #transphobia #reply #my words #history #queer

18 notes · View notes

bitegore · 6 years ago

Note

About Pride- you aren't wrong, but there's a difference between someone wearing leather gear and someone practicing other parts of a kink. Wearing a collar is fine, being on all fours on a leash is really not for public spaces. Because that's involving non-consenting strangers in your kink. Sure, it's good for people to know kink isn't wrong, but something not being wrong doesn't mean it's appropriate for public spaces. Just like sex isn't wrong, but having sex where minors and nonconsenting (1)

(2) strangers can come upon you without warning isn't a good idea. If there's an area that's specifically designated as an area where there will be sex and full kinkplay, great! Mark it clearly and go nuts. But if it's somewhere people could just come up without realizing, that's not a good idea. There are people who don't want to see strangers engaged in sexual activity, and there are parents who would immediately snatch their questioning kid away from any event like that.

(3) There's nothing wrong with indicators of kink in public. Leather gear, badges, flags, that kind of thing. But actual kink /play/ is too much for places where someone could accidentally walk into it. And I really don't think Pride should be designated a place where you should expect to find people performing sex acts randomly scattered about. Not because it's shameful, but because it's something that you need to get people's consent to involve them in.

(4) And I know kink isn't innately sexual, but a lot of it is going to be interpreted that way to someone unfamiliar with the exact scene. Besides, even the nonsexual kink requires consent from all involved. In short: anything that says or demonstrates "I'm into kink" is great, good for people to see, and often stylish. Actually /doing/ that kink, except in areas that are (literally or not) surrounded by "here be kink" signs, is not so great. Because, again, consent. Nothing to do with shame.

-----

This is long, so I’m sticking a cut on it.

Okay, before I start I want to preface this with: I do actually see your point. I’m going to be arguing with you, but I really want that to be clear. For the most part, I agree with you. You’re just arguing a point that I didn’t try to make, and I kind of want to clear that up.

Second: my head is hurting worse than usual today (an explanation, not meant as points or to give me a pass if i’m wrong, lol) so if anything seems unclear or hard to understand, please point it out, and i’ll try and correct it/make it clearer.

Point 1: involving nonconsenting strangers in kink. I agree, that’s bad! But no one was actually talking about doing kinkplay in public at Pride. From what I understood*, it was more about having leather pride at kink, as in like- people wearing leather gear and/or kink gear that isn’t made of leather, and wearing leather pride pins and stuff. Not actually engaging in kinkplay. “There's nothing wrong with indicators of kink in public. Leather gear, badges, flags, that kind of thing.“ That’s exactly what I was referring to, in all honesty. Anything beyond that point is, as you said, involving strangers in your kink without their consent.

However, there’s one thing you said in there that I disagree with. “Wearing a collar is fine, being on all fours on a leash is really not for public spaces.“

I’d argue that a leash is fine, honestly. Maybe not to be at, I don’t know, a coffeeshop, but at a big busy festival like Pride with a ton of people around, I think something like that has a much higher chance of getting lost in the shuffle. Hands and knees don’t work because, crowds and being at knee height is unsafe, and if I were to take my sub to a place like that I’d be worried she’d get kicked in the face.

Point 2: “ And I know kink isn't innately sexual, but a lot of it is going to be interpreted that way to someone unfamiliar with the exact scene.“ Again, I get where you’re coming from, but I don’t agree with this either. There’s a lot of elements of kink that people connect with sex, but I think there are also a lot that the vast majority of people haven’t really thought about.** The vast majority of people are not very well educated on kink, and therefore there are a lot of elements of kink that absolutely fly under the radar to vanilla people.

Also, a secondary aspect of this is that queer people in general tend to be reduced to their sex lives as well, not just kinky people. Straight cis people- especially older people, from my parents’ generation and older- have a tendency to reduce gay men to ‘ew, they have gay sex!’ and lesbians to ‘but how do they have sex? there’s no penis’ and trans people to ‘but how do you have sex with them?’ Reducing kinky people to ‘but they have sex like that?’ is pretty much what they’ve done to the entire rest of the queer community anyway. So I don’t love that argument for the same reason I don’t like things like ‘trans people shouldn’t be allowed at pride, because what if parents of gay or lesbian or bisexual kids see those weirdos and drag their kids off’. It seems like it’s missing a very large part of the history of the community as a whole*** in that particular respect.

Last point: i just want to call attention to it, I’m not arguing.

“I really don't think Pride should be designated a place where you should expect to find people performing sex acts randomly scattered about. Not because it's shameful, but because it's something that you need to get people's consent to involve them in.” It’s also illegal to have sex in public. It’s indecent exposure in New York, my home state, and it’s classified as a misdemeanor in many others****. So, you’re definitely not wrong there.

However, there’s a difference between performing sex acts and making it clear you engage in them without actually having sex. There are a lot of posts around talking about people walking around wearing nothing but pasties over their nipples and thongs and nothing else, or people wearing shirts explicitly talking about sex, or whatever. If you google “pride NYC,” which is what I did because i didnt want to just google “pride parade” and get a ton of canned stock images, you see a lot of pictures of half-naked individuals wearing rainbows. I don’t think that if those people are perfectly alright to do that (and i do believe it should be allowed for people to do so! Pride is for having fun and being proud of your sexuality, so that kind of thing being policed would be a little weird to me) someone wearing a puppy mask or a leash and collar are also just following the trend in their own way. People making sexual assumptions about someone because they’re dressing in a sexual manner or wearing things that imply sexual actions are the ones making those assumptions. The people wearing those things could have chosen not to, but I don’t think they should be barred for choosing to wear them.

Again, I’m not sure I covered everything, so feel free to point it out if I fucked something up, and I also am not sure any of this is going to make even a little bit of sense to anyone that’s not me, lol, so if this is a whole bunch of completely confusing ramblings, feel free to let me know and I’ll take another stab at it tomorrow when my head hopefully feels less foggy.

----

*And I might have been wrong. I’m not discounting that. I can be wrong, I’m only human, and my understanding of things might not be 100% accurate.

**By this I mean like the difference between calling someone Daddy (overtly kinky overtones because it’s become a wildly popular thing in media) vs things like asking for permission for small things or waiting for their Dom to give them a go ahead before taking an action, which is more inherently kinky than just using a title (in my opinion, again, this is all in my opinion) but tends to just strike as a little weird

***i wasn’t around for very much of it. I was born in 2001. But I’ve spent a long time following a bunch of angry older folks on here who every now and again go ‘wow you guys clearly dont remember what it was like in the 80s/90s/are being incredibly reductive, read these pieces from the 50s and 60s’, and I feel like i have a slightly better view on some of these things than a lot of the people I see on here. Naturally, though, I might be wrong about parts, and if I’m misrepresenting something, feel free to send me reading materials

****I did a google search, and the first thing i saw said, verbatim, “ Public Sex is a Misdemeanor. In most states, the laws that criminalize public sex make it a misdemeanor crime. Some state laws explicitly criminalize public sexual activity. Other laws are broader and cover a variety of indecent or lewd conduct.“ The full source can be found here: [x]

#long post #red replies #leather/bdsm at pride discourse

1 note · View note