#despite being non-explicit
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pattern-recognition · 1 year ago
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the rainbow kufiya hirbawi made, and continues the effort to make despite the situation, feels like a more profound symbol of good will towards gay people than any student organization or group or whatever i’ve experienced in the west
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talaricula · 1 year ago
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Things I've seen tumblr memeing about James Somerton doing à la "How did no one see how bigoted he was!" as if those things haven't been a significant part of tumblr culture for over a decade :
Presenting untrue and bordering on conspiratorial versions of (queer or otherwise marginalised) history without any sources
Completely disregarding and disrespecting any expertise on socio-cultural topics/humanities and distrusting academics and historians (incl. acting as if no academics or historians could be queer or marginalised)
Downplaying the role misogyny played in the historical oppression of queer women and concluding that queer men must have been more oppressed than queer women
Bi women are, at best, not as queer as "real" queer ppl, and at worst, simply equivalent to straight women
Despite nominal trans inclusivity, transmasculine ppl are functionally women when convenient (combined with the above, bi transmascs are functionally straight women)
Despite nominal trans inclusivity (bis), shamelessly attacking, threatening and actively endangering any trans woman who questions them or smth they find important (often by unfairly presenting her as violent or as a threat)
Having absolutely fucking wild and reductive takes about ace ppl, the oppression they face and their place in the queer community
Stating that marriage equality is an assimilationist fight while completely ignoring its direct roots in the horrifying consequences of the AIDS crisis for partners of ppl who died of AIDS
Praising western media creators from the past for queer coding even under censure and in the same breath condemning current non western media creators for being homophobic bc their representation isn't explicit enough
Blaming China for all existing homophobic censoring in western media
Assuming all queer media would be better told by western creators and by western standards
Only out queer ppl get to tell queer stories
Heavily criticising almost all queer media created by women or ppl they see as such (see above points about trans ppl) or involving/starring a significant amount of women for any perceived or real amount of "problematicness", but fawning over and praising and negating criticism of queer media created by and starring mostly or even functionally exclusively men (even when it could be argued that, you know, not involving/seriously sidelining women is a pretty clear example of misogyny which should probably be considered "problematic")
And I'm probably forgetting stuff or there's stuff I have internalised myself and don't recognise as an issue
Like idk but I feel like the takeaway from Hbomberguy and Toddintheshadow's videos should maybe be "be aware of such patterns in your communities bc they definitely exist" and not "this guy is uniquely awful" and I feel like a lot of the discussion I've seen surrounding this has been severely failing at that. Most ppl who've spent any significant amount of time on tumblr prob either have internalised at least one of those thought patterns, have had to de-internalise them, or have had to be extremely vigilant to not internalise them (which is done by, you know, seeking out other sources, which also seemed like an important takeaway from the videos)
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itsdabatt · 13 days ago
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Can i interest you in some snibor (reverse robins)
(Descriptions + close ups under cut)
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Damian Al Ghul-Wayne AKA “Nighthawk”
Age 26. Formerly known as “Mantis”, Damian was Batman’s partner and sidekick from ages 10-18. During this time he makes a handful of similar-aged allies (and eventual friends) but is ultimately one of few child vigilantes for a while. Tension builds over the years, as Damian is desperate to prove himself worthy of the Batman mantle and Bruce is hesitant to sentence his son to such a bleak legacy. Damian dies and is resurrected at age 18. Shortly after being stripped of his title, he returns as Nighthawk, an aggressive but resolutely non-lethal hero. Over time he and Bruce relearn to coexist, thought not without great difficulty amidst the conflict of Tim’s emergence as Cricket. Damian still feels his father’s rejection and dreadfully anticipates the day he is cast away yet again, but he does his best to include himself in Bruce’s chosen children’s lives, having grown to know it’s not their fault. Nighthawk is now known as Gotham’s most merciful vigilante.
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Timothy Drake-Wayne AKA “Draken”
Age 21. Formerly known as “Cricket”, Tim convinced Batman at age 14 to let him join his crusade by leveraging his knowledge of his and Damian’s identities (gained through a mix of process of elimination & a hunch regarding damian’s relation to the league of assassins, his time of conception, and bruce’s travel records). Feeling Damian’s absence, Bruce accepts his proposal, inaccurately assuming he wouldn’t grow as attached to a child who shared no blood relation to him. When Tim’s parents die, he’s adopted at age 16. Troubled by their death, he becomes Draken at age 17. Bruce notices a few concerning statistics in Tim’s patrols but is unable to confront him as he adopts Jason and then Dick soon after. When Bruce is reported to be dead, he left explicit instructions to not allow Damian to become Batman, leaving Tim as his successor. Not long after this, Tim runs off to look for Bruce, leaving Dick and Gotham to fend for themselves. During this period it is known that Tim was exposed to a lazarus pit, but he has done extensive work to conceal the events that took place during his search. Tim eventually returns with evidence of Bruce’s survival, seemingly unchanged by his journey beyond a strip of white hair and green eyes.
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Jason Todd-Wayne AKA “The Red Hood”
Age 16. Formerly known as “Firefly”, Jason was adopted at age 12 after being caught stealing the tires off the batmobile. Unwilling to trust Bruce Wayne, Jason was promised the opportunity to become batman’s sidekick, just as Tim (who jason admired) had. At 13 Jason is thought to be dead. In actuality, he was held in an abandoned wing of Arkham Asylum being tortured by the joker for over a year and a half. There have been recent reports of a Red Hood operating in gotham, and while few details are known at this time it is of note that Dick seems to be quite avoidant of any conversation regarding him. Interestingly, the Red Hood has shown a steep decline in fatalities following his initial hostile takeover of the gotham drug trade. While his presence is felt, the Red Hood is rarely seen. Despite this, the Red Hood has been known to protect the children of Crime Alley, and reportedly has only ever spoken directly to children.
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Richard “Dick” Grayson AKA “Nightwing”
Age 13. Formerly known as “Robin”, Dick was adopted at age 10 when Tim and Bruce were in the audience as he watched his parents die in an orchestrated trapeze incident. Although Dick is determined to track down his parents’ murderer, Damian and Bruce try their best to convince him otherwise. Before they can break through to him, Tony Zucco is found dead in the harbor with no known cause or motivation behind his death. With the choice taken from him, Dick ultimately accepts Bruce’s terms and chooses to become Robin, being Batman’s sidekick alongside Jason for a little under a year. When Bruce dies, Dick is justifiably upset by the division of the family and Damian does his best to support him alone after Tim disappears. Still reeling from the loss of his parents, then Jason, then Bruce, and now the sting of Tim’s abandonment, he begins to lash out and question the sanctity of the no kill rule. He becomes Nightwing at age 13 soon after Bruce’s return to life, having begun to associate the name “Robin” with death and betrayal. Dick claims he has had no contact with the Red Hood. In an attempt to socialize Dick with non-crimelord vigilantes his age, Damian and Jon formed the Teen Titans, which, in hindsight, may have been more trouble than it was worth.
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11thfempachi · 2 months ago
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"People expect us to be small and quiet and innocent" Kim Petras makes every single one of his songs about being a whore, being a bitch, getting fucked, being an object in a female form and gets treated like a genius of pop industry and a queer icon. Ayesha Erotica made a song about a woman who enjoyed anal rape and is considered funny and silly despite an entire list of controversies. Lily Orchard known for SU video essay used to write graphic incest and pedophilic abuse MLP fanfiction in his TWENTIES. Ezra Miller - a "non binary" man - assaulted a child. Ethel Cain made religious abuse and incest his aesthetic and literally uses slurs and no one bats an eye. Hunter Schafer posted a psychopathic manifesto about how being a woman is being an object and everyone praises him. Chris Chan raped his mother and he's seen as a victim of bullying first. Eli erlick has a massive following on Tumblr despite being a rapist. You tried to close the Vancouver rape shelter leaving women escaping abuse basically homeless and everyone supported you. A man with several porn accounts with explicit urls got banned for posting said porn and ceo of Tumblr got harrassed for weeks over it. When jkr said trans males sent her porn and she didn't engage with them she got harrassed for "not taking action" despite her saying she literally reported said porn.
Who the fuck expects you to be dainty and demure? All you do is mock, harass and abuse women and the entire world save for like a couple women on Twitter finds an excuse for you. Shut the fuck up
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split-spectrum · 15 days ago
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YOU'VE GOT TO LEARN
Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Tags: extremely dubious consent, non-con elements, explicit sexual content, exhibitionism, age gap, established relationship, jealousy, possessive!joel, softdom!joel, unprotected sex, alcohol, hair pulling
Length: 3.3K
Summary: At a client's house party, you catch yourself getting jealous of other eyes on Joel. Joel pulls you aside to show you exactly what he thinks of that.
This is my first time writing for Joel Miller, so please go easy on me <3
☆☆☆
What is it about Joel that makes him most attractive when he's stuck somewhere he doesn't want to be?
You tip back the last of your whiskey sour, gazing at the tight creases in the corners of his eyes as he nods along with the blond guy who's been talking for twenty painful minutes about the crypto market. Joel is leaning back, arms folded over his chest, his big shoulders pushing at the seams of his denim shirt.
He once told you that no one besides you could tell his emotions on his face. You'd laughed and called bullshit at the time, telling him every thought in that pretty head of his showed up plain as day on his face, but right now it doesn't seem to matter. He's been looking like he'd swallowed glass since this guy started talking, and it doesn't seem to make a bit of difference to him.
When Joel had asked if you wanted to come along to the holiday party one of his clients was having at his house, you'd said yes even after hearing that the guy was 'kind of an idiot' and you'd probably be 'bored to tears'. Joel would have skipped it, but unfortunately it was one of his biggest clients, and the invitation wasn't one he could politely decline.
Right now, though, you're sort of wishing you'd listened to him. The party stopped being fun somewhere around the second MLM scheme that had been pitched to you, and you're now counting the minutes until you'll hit the mark Joel set on the drive there: "Least a couple hours - then we can head out."
The guy takes a short pause, then launches into another tirade on bitcoin, and you realize you're going to need another drink to get through it. Joel's arm slips from around your waist as you pull away.
"Be right back, fellas. I'm going to get a refill."
Joel's brows lift as you leave him behind. "Now hold on there. Wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I let you get your own drink-"
You wave him off, trying to hold in a smirk. "No really, I need to take a lap. Stretch my legs."
He licks his lips, looks off to the side for a second before calling after you, "Grab me one on your way back, will ya?"
You smile innocently. "You got it."
After your host declines your offer to get him something, you head to the kitchen, making a little chit chat on your way to the well-stocked fridge. You decide to get Joel's beer before you return to the open bar to ask for another drink of your own. You hook your knuckles around the neck of a Modelo, no sooner closing the door to the fridge before you glance back in Joel's direction, seeing he's been joined by a few more people.
It isn't surprising. Joel's the type of guy who tends to draw attention, and not just because of his looks. He's the guy who's in charge, even when he's not in charge. People gravitate toward him; just something about his presence that makes him the most interesting thing in every room.
In spite of that, your attention isn't on him at the moment. It's on the girl making moon eyes beside him. She's tossing a long, shiny ponytail behind her shoulder and grinning ear to ear despite the fact that bitcoin boy hasn't stopped talking.
Picking up a bottle opener, you pop the cap off the beer in your hand by muscle memory, not able to tear your eyes off of them. Joel's attention is still on the host, but when she says something to him, you watch him pull his chin back to nod, holding her in the corner of his eye to give a quick smile.
Kelly, you remember. That's her name. She's the receptionist at the client's office, and she's probably seen more of Joel this month than you have.
You watch as she cranks up her smile another thousand watts, laughing at something one of the other guys in the group has said. Kelly, you think. No. Probably spells it with an i. Kelli. Probably dots it with a heart.
Your face is starting to warm up, and when someone on the other side of the kitchen counter gently asks if you're alright, you clear your throat, then reply that you're fine as you quickly open the fridge for a second Modelo. It's time for you to slow down on the whiskey.
As you make your way back to the group, you catch Kelly/Kelli's eyes and give her a subdued smile. She blinks and smiles back, suddenly looking very shy.
"Now what did I miss?" you ask, when the men dissolve into laughter.
Henry, one of the contractors under Joel, shakes his head. "It ain't worth repeating in the presence of a lady."
The host interjects, "So what do you call Kelly?"
Henry puts an arm around her shoulder. "Aw, she's heard it all before, haven'tcha?"
"That don't mean she wants to hear it from you!" one of the other men shouts, and there's another round of laughter while you bite your lip, watching Joel's eyes as they dip to Henry's arm.
You wrap your lips around the tip of the bottle in your hand, letting the taste of the beer give your mouth an excuse to look sour. Henry's hand is dropping from Kelly's shoulder down to her waist, and while the conversation carries on, Joel leans in close so that only Henry - and you - can hear.
"Cool it, Henry."
"Huh?" comes the slow reply, as he pretends not to have understood him.
Joel just lifts his brows, and that's all it takes for Henry to back off, looking a little sheepish as he unwinds himself from Kelly, who looks more than a little relieved.
Henry turns to you, suddenly trying to make small talk, to save face. "Have you two met? This's our girl Kelly. She takes good care of us, don'tcha, sweetheart?"
You give a polite smile. "We've met. Nice to see you, again. Both of you."
"Uh huh," Henry answers half-heartedly before he wanders off, perhaps to join another conversation, or just to find another drink.
Kelly gives you another polite smile, then as the host starts to back away, bringing the rest of the group with him, she goes along with the crowd. Before she leaves, though, she softly murmurs to Joel, "Thanks for that."
He answers with a stiff nod, but it's more than enough to put the stars back in her eyes as she walks away, leaving the two of you alone.
You're biting your lip again, practically chewing on it, as you dangle Joel's beer by the throat, handing it over to him.
"Thank you," he says, then tips it back immediately.
You don't reply, lost in thought, but pretending nonchalance as you watch the group leave.
"Meant what I said, though," Joel adds in your silence. "Shoulda let me get it. I don't like to have you wanderin' around on your own. Not with this bunch of degenerates."
You smirk. "What, like Henry?"
"For one, yeah," he says, turning to face you now that the sounds of the party are fading into the background. "Lookin' the way you do, won't be able to keep their eyes or their hands off ya."
You laugh him off, but can't pretend that his voice isn't settling right in the bottom of your stomach. He's standing a little closer, now, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, mixed with the spice of his cologne. Something about him talking this way puts some boldness into you, and your words come out a bit more reckless than they should.
"Well, maybe you should have asked Kelly to get your drink, then."
He looks dumbfounded for a moment, and you widen your smile to show you're joking.
"I mean, I'm sure she would have," you go on, digging yourself deeper even as your heart kicks up faster. If you'd switched to beer two drinks ago, you probably would have explained yourself better. You would have insisted it was just a joke, because she so clearly has a crush on him. But your words are just swimming in all that whiskey.
"Cute little thing like that," you say, shrugging. "Probably don't mind her 'taking care of you', do ya?"
Joel's eyes are fixed on you, voice easing down into his chest when he asks softly, warningly, "What did you just say?"
He's turned all the way toward you, and all at once the room feels so much smaller, your face so much hotter. He's waiting for an answer, and your breath is caught high in your throat. "I-uh... it was just... nothing."
He's very slowly setting down his beer, looking down to a side table. "Wasn't nothing; I heard it." He looks back up at you, pinning you hard where you stand. "Now repeat it. Wanna make sure I heard you right."
You swallow, mouth dry. "I nn-nothing, I just said..." You force a crooked smile that you know he isn't buying for a second. "Y'know... she's- she's pretty cute, and maybe you... maybe she oughta... 'cause maybe you want her to..."
Your babbling doesn't impress him. He's just staring at you under a darkened brow. He opens his mouth to say something, but the motion of someone else entering the room catches your eye and you snap defensively before he can say anything.
"Joel, I didn't mean-"
He follows your gaze, then turns away and shuts you up with a wide, heavy palm sliding to the small of your back. "C'mere," he says. "C'mon." And the way he breathes it as he guides you out of the room and down the hall, you don't argue.
He finds a bathroom and pushes you inside. While you're looking over his shoulder to make sure no one sees you going in together, he's staring straight ahead, and he closes the door with one hand, still holding you with the other.
"I'm... sorry," you confess as soon as the door closes. "That was stupid. I don't know why I said it."
"Yeah," he grunts, crowding you up against the closed door. "You do."
The way he has you held close, arm around your waist and words warm against your mouth, you'd normally try to kiss him right about now. But looking into his eyes, you know there's no kiss waiting for you on his lips.
He's mad, and you're a little scared. Not scared of him, but scared of what he might do at a party where people might hear. People that he has to work with on Monday.
He isn't drunk, but he's had a few, and your fear ratchets up when his hand slides to your backside, gripping your ass and kneading it as he growls, "You think I give a goddamn about some teenager?"
Despite the way he's manhandling you through your dress, you can't help but roll your eyes. "She's not a teenager."
She isn't really that much younger than you are. And with Joel in his fifties, the thought has crossed your mind that he might just be keeping you around because he got a thing for younger women. You'd just never said anything out loud. Until tonight.
He stops, pulls back. "Alright, guess I'm not bein' clear enough."
He takes you by both arms, pushes you against the sink so you're looking at yourself in the mirror. Behind you, he starts unbuckling his belt.
"Joel..." you whisper, heat pulsing through you just from the sound of the metal clinking. You know you should ask him to stop - is the door even fucking locked? - but you can't get any other words out besides his name.
He slides a hand under your dress, pushing it up and over the swell of your ass. He doesn't slow down, doesn't even run his hand over your skin. He just pushes your panties to the side, pressing the head of his cock right up against your pussy, holding it there as he grits against your ear, "Guess I gotta show you where I want to be."
He pushes the thick head inside you, wrapping one arm around your stomach to keep you from falling forward. His other hand is flat on the sink, not playing with you, not easing anything. He doesn't give you any prep, just shoves in slowly, his cock stretching you all in one go.
You hiss, brow pinching. He didn't even let you get wet enough to take him. You can feel every damn move he makes inside you as he shifts his hips closer to pin you hard against the cold edge of the sink. When he's all the way in, you watch your mouth pop open in the mirror as you take a few panting breaths. The stretch is almost unbearable, but feeling so full of him, you don't want to stop.
He eases out, just a couple inches to coat himself in your slick, then presses back in even harder. You feel like your lungs are going to give out from how tight your gasps are getting.
"Fuck, Joel... hurts," you whine.
He slowly slides you off of him, then feeds it right back in.
"I know it does, honey," he breathes against your neck. "I know it does."
His deep voice makes you pulse around his cock and he drags his big, calloused hand down to the front of your dress, lifting it up just far enough to see your pussy, stuffed full of him. You're leaking down the sides of his cock, glistening in the dim light of the bathroom.
"See that?" he asks, unmoving. "That's where I wanna be. You hear me?"
Giving a shaky nod of your head, you whimper, "Yes."
He starts to piston in and out of you, and you can only watch. You close your eyes tight when he speeds up a little. "It's... mm- it's too much."
He doesn't change his pace. "Ain't about feelin' good. You've got to learn."
He groans when your pussy clenches around him, and you follow with an answering moan as the tension in your muscles starts to fade. You're soaking down both sides of your inner thighs as he opens you up further.
When you've dissolved into whimpering his name, he hooks one arm around your leg from behind, lifting it up so that you're spread wider. His other hand is still holding up your dress.
"Look at that," he grunts, making an obscene display of his cock fucking into your pussy. "Look how fucking hard you make me, baby."
You whine again, struck dumb by how good he feels with every snap of his hips. "God, feels so good... please..."
He's dragging his teeth against your neck when he replies, "Please?"
"Please, Joel. Feels so fucking good," you repeat, eyes closed.
You want him to fuck you properly, to bend you over and make you take him, to use his fingers - to let you use yours - anything; it doesn't matter. You're so worked up, you just need a little more.
"M'not gonna give you what you want, darlin'," he answers. "Don't work like that."
You can't help but loose a plaintive moan, even knowing you deserve it. "Baby, please-"
He drops your knee, letting your leg come down to the floor as he bends you over the sink. When he starts to fuck you for real, you can't hold it together anymore, softly pleading and whining for more, begging him not to stop, opening your eyes to watch him in the mirror as he starts to lose himself, too.
Until a knock at the door jars you right out of it.
"Is anybody in there?"
Joel doesn't even slow down. Just flattens his palm along your lower back to bend you back over after you jolt up.
"Joel-" you hiss. But he keeps giving you exactly what you need, and your eyes roll back.
"Hello?"
He slides a warm hand down the open neckline of your dress, kneading your breast as he looks at you in the mirror. His brown eyes are stern and steady. "Answer."
He keeps feeding you his cock, and you hiccup, legs shaking as you whisper, "I- I don't..."
"Go on and tell 'em. You're busy."
Fuck fuck fuck. "Uhh, s-someone's in here!"
Your voice comes out strained and airy, and you wait for the reply while Joel kisses the skin of your shoulder, sliding the front of your dress down.
"Joel, it's... somebody is..."
"Nothin' in here that I wanna hide," he growls, pushing his hips right up against your ass as he circles a thumb around one of your nipples.
"Fuck, Joel..." The silence outside has been long enough that the person is probably gone, but your pulse is still pounding, and he's making it so fucking hard to think. "Oh my god, yes..."
He's quietly panting, lifts his head long enough to say, "Understand now, pretty girl?"
"Mm..."
"This here's right where I wanna be. Nowhere else," he grunts, pressing his weight down on you, the squelching sounds between your bodies getting louder than your moans. Your eyes are drawn up to the mirror, watching the veins in his neck tighten as he fucks into you harder and harder. "You got it?"
You frantically nod, desperately near the edge of coming. "Fuck, yes, mhm..."
"Maybe I oughta fill you up right here, leave you with somethin' to think about."
"N-no," you stutter, almost sounding like you're sobbing your words. "P-please, I get it. I heard what you s-said."
He has to let you come. You don't care that you were acting up, making something out of nothing. You don't care what got him mad at you. All you can think about is how flushed his chest is beneath the open collar of his shirt, how tight his grip is, how stiff his jaw is set. You just want to listen to that throaty growl, feel him mercilessly fucking you a little while longer. That's all it would take. Just a little bit...
"Fuck-"
Joel pulls out, hand tightening into a fist around himself. You slump against the sink.
"Goddamn, baby. Almost got me, there."
You're on the verge of tears, shuddering with wild breaths. "No, fuck, Joel, please please please-"
He grips a handful of your ass, fingers brushing through your wetness and making you whimper.
"Told you, I ain't giving you what you want."
You hear him zip up his jeans, and then his hand is back at your ass, but this time he's pulling your panties back into place and tugging your dress down.
"Never gonna learn that way."
You whine pitifully, knowing you brought this on yourself, but still pleading under your breath, face drawn tight with frustration.
He helps you stand up properly, giving you his arm to steady yourself. You straighten your dress, cleaning up your appearance in the mirror, and eventually you're able to leave the bathroom, walking out on trembling legs.
He gives you a smirk as you leave the hallway, and something in you finally snaps. Maybe it's a little unfair, but you know exactly what to say to knock that smirk off his face.
You lean in and whisper in his ear, "Guess you didn't want me that bad after all, or you would have finished."
And all of ten minutes later, you're in the cab of his truck. You're screaming his name as you come all over his cock, hands fisted in his hair, tugging it hard while he pumps you full of his cum, cursing you the whole time.
Turns out, he's the one who's never gonna learn.
--
A/N: Thanks for reading! I don't have a taglist for Joel, but I'll add one if I ever write for him again. Hope you enjoyed! :)
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aromantic-pantyanarchy · 11 months ago
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It's me. I'm the cis, heterosexual, aromantic man. I will never marry, I will never be married, I will grow into middle age and elder age and I will die unmarried. I will be forced to support a household of myself on only my wages alone for the rest of my life. I will be asked about women and marriage and children by my family for the rest of my life (or men, the progressive ones might say). I may not ever come out to them. I feel like I burned my coming out on something stupid. I don't want to explain it. I don't want to run them through the definitions and intricacies. I don't want the acceptance without understanding, placating me with ceased questions and poor explanations to other, drunk adults.
I like my hair to be long, I spent a year with it dyed a golden blonde with dark roots because I like the trashy party girl aesthetic. I want to dye it again with pink tips. I like painting my nails, black and blue are my favorite colors. I like wearing chokers. I also like wearing baggy jeans and ratty hoodies. I like having stubble. I like having chest hair. I like having a square jaw and broad shoulders. I wish I had a flatter stomach and a thinner profile frame. I don't know what this makes me, perhaps this is something no more GNC than Machine Gun Kelly. I think about this a lot, how queer my appearance truly is. I should think about it less. I have thought long and hard about if I could be trans or if I could be non-binary or if I could be genderqueer and the conclusion I ultimately came to is that I most enjoy being a man open to whatever self-expression I want.
I don't date, but I've thought about it. I would like to meet people, and I would like to have sex with them. But I don't want to hurt them. I fear if I explain what I am beforehand it'll scare them away. I fear if I explain after they'll feel manipulated or abused. I don't know how many people in the dating scene want what I want. I fear my own lack of experience will make me a bad lay, an embarrassing story to tell to confidants in hindsight. I fear my own virginity, a boundary to those I wish to be like. All of these fears are baseless, as I've not been able to even begin a single relationship in my life. Despite this I still heavily identify with terms like "slut" and "manwhore" and "thot" because my interests lay so deeply within casual sex, sex without great intimacy or emotion. This may be some form of stolen valor. I hope the true sluts are not too mad at me.
I made this blog several years ago because a mutual of mine reblogged memes making fun of aro and ace people, making fun of the concept of aphobia, and in addition well known aphobes. I didn't feel comfortable talking about aro stuff on my main blog, for as little as I talk about it. Living through the ace discourse of the 2016 era has largely caused me to cringe in embarrassment any time I am forced to discuss my orientation with people who aren't aro or ace themselves. I no longer follow this person. I unfollowed many people I was mutuals with from that time, most of them because they posted too often about how much they hated men and I didn't want to see that, some because our interests simply drifted too far apart, only one for explicit aphobia reasons. (Also one because they became a "both sides are bad, any vote is wasted" libertarian, but that's unrelated.)
I guess at this point I don't care deeply about what strangers on the internet think of me. If a trusted friend told me that they don't think I'm truly queer that may hurt. But I am going to continue to use the word for myself. I take up no resources. I go to events that are open to me. If an event was not open to me, I think I'd not want to go anyways. I am not a hypothetical, I am not a strawman, I am a person with lived experiences both within and exterior to the queer community. If you hate me, I will permit you to continue to do so. But ultimately, I am who I am, I cannot change these facts, and I would not choose to do so even if I could.
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artytaeh · 2 months ago
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as promised, here's a treat for my mattheo riddle girlies ‹3 i hope you like it and feels ?? canon ?? because i honestly think that this is sooo matt coded. anyways! tysm for all the love and support. 🌷
warnings : obvious explicit mentions of sexual content, meant for +18 readers; read at your own risk.
’⭑ 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 : 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌.﹙★﹚
﹙★﹚ in one word, mattheo riddle is messy. that's the way that mattheo loves the most: messy, passionate, nasty, almost impulsive. a mess of feelings and urges alone.
despite seeking for his own pleasure, mattheo prides himself as someone who can satisfy both himself and his partner.
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WHEN EATING YOU OUT, mattheo doesn't hold back. incapable of sticking to something for a long moment, he's a mess— running his flat tongue between your lips, then kissing your nub with a loud wet sound; mattheo doesn't care at all if the lewd sound of his lips and mouth on you rival your own moans. he's here to ravish you, so take it without complains, yeah?
more often than not, mattheo is one to use both his fingers and mouth. languidly kissing your core, almost messily making out with your clit, mattheo stretches you out with his fingers, scissoring the tight walls before curling upwards— you swear that each time he does this, you can feel him smirking against your sensitive skin.
empty bedroom, broom closet, locker rooms aftee quidditch practice; mattheo riddle doesn't give a flying fuck.
he's loud and vocal, deal with it. what's there to be embarrassed about? let the whole school know how much mattheo loves to drop to his knees for his girl.
honorable mention that no one has the balls to make a clownery comment about it. mattheo sent assholes with broken noses to the infirmary wing for much less.
mattheo isn't one to spread your legs while eating you out. he wouldn't make your legs tired right in the beginning— the slytherin needs them strong, not sore, to keep up with the way he'll manhandle you afterwards.
besides, mattheo is insanely addicted to the feeling of your thighs clenching around his head, making him feel the warm and smooth skin of those inner thighs almost suffocate him, from his place between your legs.
non ironically jokes about that being the most heavenly way to die. mentioned it once during a conversation with his friends— about dying like this. with honor—, his smug expression deeply contrasting with your embarrassed one.
whenever possible, nevermind if he's having you sat on a desk, chair, or standing up against a wall with him on his knees for you— mattheo finds a way to have one hand pleasuring you, in sync with his eager tongue, and the other sneakily on your chest.
his fingers barely give attention to your nipples; he's so not sorry, but there's no way that mattheo can help himself— his hand cups your bare breast, yanking the bothersome bra downwards or pushing it upwards, anything to have his palm on that soft skin that drives him insane.
groaning, with his face buried in your middle, mattheo squeezes your chest with a greedy touch. damn right that all of you belongs to him.
﹙★﹚ : SOME KINKS OF HIS, might include:
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⋆ spitting : mattheo has heard and ignored comments that refer to this as something disgusting; he can't help it— to him, this is so hot. definitely has a thing for spitting inside your mouth, whenever you're facing him, underneath his heavy body. would also spit on your core before being inside you, or eating you out. prefers to be the one giving, instead of receiving; even so, mattheo would find it hot if you did so on his cock, before giving him a handjob or using your mouth.
⋆ biting : all i say is, good luck. mattheo riddle can't properly put it into words, however, his love for bodies who look a bit more chubby, where his hands can grab and squeeze, are also enthralling to him because there's a lot of room to bite. thighs? he'll spend a long time there, even if mattheo doesn't have the intention to take it further— he just likes the feeling of your skin inside his mouth, biting into it! neck too, which can be a nuisance sometimes; you never know if mattheo is burying his face on the crook of your neck because he's sleepy or in the mood of creating more bruises there. hard bites. like, the ones that hurt like a bruise after a few days.
⋆ choking : this man loves to have a hand around your neck, as if it is a collar that dictates his ownership over you. his hand there, fingers curling around the skin of your neck that he positively filled with bruises, so easily cups your jaw, keeping your face on his direction, facing him. this same hand is the one that is quick to slap your face a couple of times, hitting your cheek with his fingertips— enough to make it sting for brief seconds, not really bruising your face.
well, the same can't be said about your hips, thighs and ass. mattheo doesn't hold back there.
⋆ anal : would do his best to convince, or at least tempt you into trying it once with you. even so, should you not feel comfortable with it, mattheo would happily hold on to what he can do instead— if your limit are plugs, and you accept to wear it sometimes, mattheo is already over the moon.
hungrily licks over it while using his fingers on you, his wet muscle feeling the skin of your rim and the cold metal of your plug, pressuring his fingers on it. would want to do it in positions that gives him a good vision of the plug inside you, thumbs brushing over the skin of your asscheeks and the toy deep inside your other hole. it drives him crazy.
however! if even plugs aren't something that you'd feel comfortable with or want to try, mattheo accepts that he wasn't able to make the idea tempting for you. and, like a good loser— which doesn't apply to quidditch— mattheo will be more than happy with what he can get. which means, leaving a mess of handprints, finger marks, vicious bites and hickeys on your asscheeks.
⋆ not a rope bunny : even though being tied up or doing so to his partner is something that some people view as, well, something to spice up a relationship— mattheo doesn't perceive it that way at all. even the thought of having you tied up isn't charming to him; if anything, mattheo might pin down your wrists with his hand for a moment, but that's as far as it goes, with restricting touches; because mattheo, too, loves the feeling of your hands on him.
and let me tell you: this man would hate being tied up. what do you mean he can't touch you? mattheo can promise to hold back from thrusting up or switching positions, to be in control— but please don't prevent him from touching you. mattheo would look at you so genuinely sad, that he can't cup your chest or feel the skin of your thighs, much less get your ass squeezed by his greedy, warm hands. :(
⋆ biggest victim of cockwarming : no, not even for a bet. mattheo wouldn't be able to resist the temptation. for starters, why would he entertain the idea of not moving at all? mattheo is all too starved and hungry for you to be still; he might hold on for a few moments just to satisfy your requests, but ultimately, his patience will run out and he'll show you how it's a hundred times better to do something about it.
⋆ ¹overstimulation : believe it or not, mattheo wouldn't purposefully overstimulate his partner. however, when intentional, only happens if mattheo wants to prove a point, usually fueld by jealousy— because whatever guy you were laughing with, couldn't possibly making you tremble and fall apart on his arms like this, right? and yet, mattheo might also be tempted to use this as a punishment for bratty behavior.
⋆ ²edging : rarely ever does this to his partner; mattheo enjoys bringing pleasure to you, not finding satisfaction on depriving you from an orgasm if he's got you so close, so high for his touch alone. rather than torturing you, mattheo finds more enjoyment on the sight of having you coming undone on his fingers, tongue, or cock. coaxes and encourages you to do so as well, having little to no care over clothes, sheets or surfaces getting wet.
HOWEVER, mattheo is one to dealy his own release. mattheo riddle is addicted to the feeling of pleasure given by you; your hands, mouth, the feeling of slipping inside you— mattheo never wants it to end.
strategically finds ways to last longer with you, by switching positions, giving him a few seconds to calm down, if he feels like he's almost there. won't ever leave you unsatisfied; even if he finishes before you, and can't go on, then mattheo is more than happy to make you come in another way.
⋆ experimentalist : mattheo let's you do anything and everything to him— leaving little room to things that he would never be tempted to try out. is there something you want to try? perhaps a new kink in the list? he's all for it, like a puppy trailing right behind you.
so you want to use him like a toy? suit yourself; mattheo is already on the process of stripping out his clothes, moving to lay down on the bed. something more risky? his fingers intertwine with yours, that devilish mind of his already thinking about time, place, and what he'd love to do with you. unironically, mattheo riddle would even let you put a bow on it, if you so much as asked him to do it. there's practically nothing that he shies away from doing with you.
⋆ blood / knife play : listen. if mattheo's kinks were to be explain with an iceberg, this one would be on the bottom of it. mattheo knows how bad this sounds— that the sight of blood can spark some worse assumptions about him, that are already as bad as they can get. even worse if he explains how charming it sounds for him, how it gets him hot and bothered, the idea of carving his initials on that pretty smooth skin of yours.
m.r. two letters, ones that he traces in random trees around school, when he's feeling bored of his friends' conversation. m.r., easy to write, due to previous practice.
it's a terribly territorial, even possessive craving of his; mattheo riddle can't excuse that urge that resonates deeply within him. and if you indulge this fantasy of his, or ask to do the same to him? mattheo wouldn't live for the embarrassment of how hard that would instantly get him.
﹙★﹚: FAVORITE POSITIONS. .ᐟ
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⋆ REVERSE COWGIRL is a favorite of his, specifically for the heavenly sight of you, watching you struggle as he relaxes against the mattress. enjoying the show, his eyes darken as he watches you struggle to bounce on his shaft— feeling, admiring each time that your ass harshly meets the skin of his groin, prominent with each movement of your hips. no doubts that mattheo will smack your ass if your rhythm falters even for a second.
⋆ PRONE BONE, as soon as mattheo gets you as comfortable as you can get. fixing a pillow under your hips to make it easier for the two of you— not only getting you to arch your back, presenting your rear to him, but also to improve your comfort before he takes it all on you.
⋆ AGAINST A WALL works all too well for mattheo, as someone who prides himself on his strength and muscles, having a build that allows those obvious lines marking his four pack abs.
( mattheo would die right there and then, if you ever used them. as in, giving up on using any pillows to rub and grind against him instead, letting mattheo feel how wet he gets you over his firm skin. would have the best smoke of his life as he watches you, murmuring praises and encouraging you to use him as a toy. )
(...) ⋆ not just in bed, but in general— mattheo riddle loves displaying how strong he is; how much weight he can take and strength he has. the first he showcases with you on his arms; the latter he wordlessly brags with each dislocated jaw that comes from his doing. so carrying you and lifting you off the floor is a favorite, almost instinctive, action for mattheo.
sometimes he's so into this, that he won't seek for a surface— not even a bloody desk, much less the comfort of a sofa or bed— pinning you against the wall. his hands lower down your body, feeling the curve of your waist, giving a greedy squeeze to your bottom, until his hands settle for the back of your thighs, easily hoisting you up from the floor. it's nothing for mattheo to have you in this position for a while— he's bloody thankful for it. his hands greedily squeeze the skin at hand, pressing himself between your legs, grinding your middle with his bulge.
⋆ not really a position itself, but mattheo goes INSANE for DRY HUMPING. this man loves nasty, messy sex; creaming his pants as you grind on his clothed bulge, feeling you getting wetter and wetter until your underwear becomes a mess on top of him— it gets mattheo every. single. time.
﹙★﹚: PREFERRED PLACES. .ᐟ
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the privacy of a bedroom is one that mattheo can't ignore, or deny, given his previous experiences. doesn't really mind if the two of you do it in yours, or his dorm— however, mattheo has a slight preference for his dorm room, because he knows where to find what he needs, which drawer, which nightstand, reaching for it blindly.
HOWEVER, mattheo isn't one to pass an opportunity, and being one to indulge his desire and need over you, passing by as an exhibitionist isn't something that mattheo is scared to do.
⋆ locker rooms, specifically right after practice or a quidditch match. if mattheo had to choose a place, then he wouldn't need to think a lot about this one. as someone who has a lot of pent up energy, there's something about him being all sweaty from giving his all as slytherin's beater, then riding the adrenaline off on — in — you.
⋆ ... bonus points if it happens inside a shower stall, the two of you hidden by a single curtain, moans and groans muffled by the sound of water falling down your bodies.
⋆ empty classrooms, strategically used during key moments of day or nightime, when there's the reassurance that it won't be used anytime soon in the next couple of hours. mostly during meal time, given that even professors would be too busy on the other side of the castle. there's something about bending you over an abandoned desk or getting you sat up on the currently unused professor's desk, for mattheo— he can't exactly say if it's about the thrill of breaking unwritten rules, or the way it somehow challenges their authority.
⋆ broom closets, which mattheo would preferably only use for the sake of a make out, during those days that your routines don't seem to match, for some cruel reason. if he misses you too much, separated due to different classes, different schedules, mattheo will steal you for a few minutes to get much deserved kisses. aching for the feeling of his skin against his again. however, it rarely develops into sex— the most it might get to, is giving him a blowjob or mattheo using his fingers on you; otherwise, broom closets are too tiny, too uncomfortable for more.
which mattheo had to accept, after almost getting caught because in the middle of his enthusiasm, mattheo knocked off a few brooms on the floor.
﹙★﹚ MORE RANDOM HEADCANONS :
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if you asked him whether mattheo prefers ass or boobs, he'd say that HE CHOOSES BOTH. now, if you pressured him into choosing just one— mattheo seriously takes long minutes to decide. full on blank stare into nothingness, barely blinking as his mind uses all of his concentration to do the mathematics of which part of your body he prefers. after long minutes of indecision, chooses your ass, almost mourning it, as if mattheo would wake up to never stare at your chest again.
THE TYPE OF SLAP YOUR ASS AT ANY GIVEN CHANCE. mattheo riddle loses his life, but never a joke. mattheo riddle might be yelled at by you, but won't miss the opportunity to indulge that guilty pleasure of landing a smack on your ass.
TALKS YOU THROUGH IT. doesn't shut up for the life of him; vocal, because he wants you to know how good you make him feel, and would love it if you do the same.
would learn HOW TO BE GENTLE now that he's dating, given that mattheo loses himself to the intense feelings of craving and desiring you. you blink, and suddenly mattheo is carrying you to the bed, about to remove your shirt and already on his third hickey.
SO INTO THE IDEA OF BEING SLAPPED. initially, mattheo thinks that he'd be fucking pissed if a girl dared to lay a hand on him — he can sent bigger assholes flying through the astronomy tower, who the hell are you to hit him, chipmunk? — but then. then he gets a slap from you.
dark eyes become wide, staring at a spot on the floor as his face barely moves to the side, feeling the tingle of a slight pain on his cheek. mattheo looks back to you; instead of yelling at you or being pissed at what you did—
he's horny. seriously, mattheo might find reasons to make you angry at him, so that he can marvel at how hot you look while you're furious at him, craving another slap like a bloody giggling teenager.
RARELY ACTS SUBMISSIVE, yet would let you take control if you wanted to be the one leading this time. however, mattheo has the hardest time to keep his hands to himself, or be the one to set the pace.
⋆ wouldn't tell a soul, but he jerks off the most at the memory of that time you rode him, and while bouncing on his cock, your hand hit his cheek, giving him a slap for trying to hurry the pace. you could swear you saw his pupils dilate.
doesn't mind for QUICKIES, AND HONESTLY LIKES THEM ALL THE SAME. there's something about being hidden by your skirt, and pulling your panties to the side, only to know that he's probably dripping right to that soft fabric, preventing it from lewdly trailing down your thighs. call him a pervert— mattheo is just a man with some territorial issues.
and that's probably why MATTHEO THINKS THAT IT'S SO ATTRACTIVE to still have some clothes on. he's obsessed for the sight of your body, at any given chance, and yet— ripping most of the buttons from your shirt, clothes are pushed and pulled up, down or to the side. your bra is tugged upwards so that his mouth can tease the now bare chest, fingers already on their way to lift your skirt and pull your underwear to the side. mattheo craves the sight of you so desperate for him, the same way that he's desperate for you too, both not wanting to wait any moment longer.
A WHORE FOR TOUCHES ON HIS HAIR AND SCALP. mattheo didn't care much for his hair before, until the curly shape of his dark hair became pretty to his eyes, and wanted to take the chance of such genetics to make himself look handsome. with that said, mattheo riddle wants to leave your bed with a mess of a hair— from tugging, pulling, pushing, having your fingers running through it, or massages, rubs on his scalp. having your nails scratching (not painfully. have mercy?!) on his scalp makes this man whimper.
speaking of things that make mattheo riddle whimper: KISS OR LICK OVER THE SCARS ON HIS CHEST, and you'll see how much of a mess he'll be under your lips. the skin there is so sensible, not to mention how intimate it feels, to have his previous injuries being the center of your attention, pampered and kissed so gently.
GOES INSANE IF YOU TRACE his v-lines with your tongue. literally has to grip something to hold back.
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﹙★﹚ ANGRY SEX, is something that once in a while, mattheo would like to have with his partner.
mattheo is amused at the sight of his partner angry at something, whenever it doesn't root from a confrontation with mattheo that got him annoyed as well.
the argument would escalate until he's almost yelling at your face— the moment your noses almost brush together, so close, with anger radiating from both of you— mattheo loses it and shuts you up with a kiss, putting an end to the argument. after this first heated kiss, mattheo pulls away, staring into your eyes for any hint that you are too angry to kiss him, or if you don't want him to touch you / continue what you were doing.
it's hard to insist on keeping up the argument given that between yelling at each other for another ten minutes, or having him roughly thrusting into that spot that makes you see stars— well, usually, you choose the latter.
becomes missionary if the argument continues, nevermind how the pleasure makes his mind dazed with foggy thoughts. it's doggy with his hand on the back of your head, pushing your face to bury on the mattress or the comfort of a pillow, whenever mattheo can't deal with your attitude, or has had enough of the argument. doggy it is, when it's to shut you up.
even if the argument still gnaws an ugly feeling inside yours or his mind, mattheo will pull you closer to him anyways, head over his heart, fingers running through your hair. a silent way to reassure you, and mostly himself, that it'll be okay, and a fight isn't what's going to separate the two of you.
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it's a terrible terrible idea to tease mattheo by keeping your underwear on. oh, so you think it's funny to grind on him with those panties of yours? that's so funny, that mattheo will rip them too. during those days that he's too dizzy with need for you, you can anticipate grief over the underwear you're wearing. and mattheo is not apologetic at all— he keeps all of these conquered prizes on the last drawer of his desk. throwing those panties away? no, no. mattheo has a better use for them.
should anyone ever touch them or find out his dirty secret, mattheo might just be tempted to break someone's fingers. what? those are his and your panties! comunism! only between the two of you!
this man has no money left for cigarettes; mattheo will be begging theodore to share them with him, because guess what! he does have to pay for property damages.
which means, giving you money for each damaged underwear from his impatient, greedy hands. sometimes, going out to hogsmeade involves shopping for more underwear— this, while mattheo is just outside the store, smoking a cigarette as he waits for you.
he'd tell his friends that it's because he wouldn't be caught inside a lingerie store. the truth is that you have forbidden mattheo from entering one with you— this man is a tall child. a tall, menacing child.
panties would be flying, his hands would cup bras and say in a way too loud tone that: 'babe! these are your size! trust my hands, i know how your pretty tits feel like.'
worse than that, mattheo would try to speed up the process. such a thing means that he'd have a pair of panties hanging on his index finger —imagine the tiniest piece of cloth, in the most vibrant, awful tone possible— as he yells: 'princess, what about these?' with the stupidest smile because mattheo thinks that he's really funny.
so, yeah. no shopping together for underwear and lingeries. mattheo is on timeout from those.
🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.
the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷
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lubdubology · 2 months ago
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SYNOPSIS: Logan doesn't know how to relax. So you help him.
PAIRING: Worst!Wolverine x fem!reader (Although minus the quick blip mention about the Void, you could imagine any Logan you'd like)
WC: 2K
WARNINGS: sexually suggestive innuendos; non-explicit descriptions of nakedness; playful banter; kissing; mild swearing; feeeeeelings; honestly, just tooth rotting fluff
A/N: I haven't written anything four hundred and eighty years seven years and I'm honestly kind of nervous about this. I thought my writing muse was long dead and buried. But here it is, seemingly revived. The idea for this story kind of just fell out of my head when I should have been napping while my toddler napped. The story won out. I hope you like it! <3
You wake with a jolt to the sound of Logan’s alarm blaring from his phone. From beside you comes Logan’s low, “Ah, fuck,” before silence reclaims the room. 
It’s early, the first rays of morning light just barely peeking above the horizon. You roll over and peer over your pillow to find Logan pulling on a pair of jeans. 
“I thought you were off today,” you mumble sleepily, laying your head back down and admiring the way his muscles move as he slips a shirt over his shoulders. 
He looks back at you with a soft smile. “Didn’t mean to wake you,” he says, continuing to dress. “Picked up an extra shift at the yard.”
Since returning from the Void, Logan had picked up a smattering of odd jobs to earn money. A couple of months working at a quarry. A per diem for a local contracting company. Currently a lumber yard thirty minutes outside of town. Despite notoriety for helping save the entirety of existence, some employers still had qualms about hiring someone from another universe. Not that he cared. You think he was just happy being useful. 
You reach for him and pull him down for a kiss. You can feel the curve of his smile against your lips and it’s these soft moments about him you love the most. “Do you even know how to relax?” you ask, snuggling back down against the rumpled sheets. 
“I relax,” he replies, standing up to grab his boots at the end of the bed. 
You can’t help the snort that escapes from you. “Name one thing you to do relax,” you counter, watching through half lidded eyes as he sits back down on the bed to lace up his boots. 
Logan pretends to think about it and then smirks. “You.”
He chuckles as you whip his pillow at him, your aim off as it sails harmlessly past his head and onto the floor. You hide your smile as he looks down at you, his eyes warm but still tired. “Relaxing really ain’t my style, sweetheart.” 
“You deserve it though,” you say, stifling a yawn. 
Logan looks down at you for a moment, his smirk fading as something softer settles in his expression, but he doesn’t respond to your statement. He stands and shrugs on his jacket, straightening out the collar before leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. 
“Go back to sleep,” he murmurs.
You watch him leave and as you settle down to steal a couple more hours of sleep, you hatch a plan to show him just how nice relaxing can be. 
+++
You hum to yourself as you cook, the aroma of roasted potatoes and chicken filling the apartment. You’re just about to start on the green beans when you hear the jingle of Logan’s keys in the lock and the door swings open with a heavy creak. 
“In here, babe!” you call from the kitchen. 
“I could smell this all the way downstairs,” he comments, tossing his keys on the counter. “What’s this for?”
Logan wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you tight against his frame, nuzzling his nose where your neck and shoulder meet. With a smile, you reach back and lightly scratch your nails through the scruff along his jaw. He smells like sawdust and smoke as you press a light kiss to his cheek. 
You savor these moments with him. When you’d first met him, he was distant and wary, years of trauma causing him to be guarded. He warmed up slowly, his touches lingering longer and his words spilling more freely. But now, moments like this—where he’s soft and affectionate—have become more frequent. Logan craves touch and you are more than willing to reciprocate. 
“I thought you could use a nice dinner,” you say, your hand still tracing the line of his jaw. “Long day?”
Logan lets out a low grunt in response, his forehead resting against your shoulder. “One of those days where every idiot with a hammer thinks he can DIY,” he mutters, his breath warm against your skin. 
You smile and give his head an affectionate pat. “Well, you’re home now and I’ve got everything handled here. Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes.”
He pulls back just enough to look down at you, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Sure you don’t need help?”
“You try and help me, and I’ll beat you with this spoon,” you tease. 
Logan laughs and raises his eyebrow. “Promise?”
You smirk, giving him a playful nudge to the ribs with your elbow. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Logan.”
Logan’s eyes crinkle at the corners, the kind of smile that softens all his sharp edges. He gives your waist a gentle squeeze before stepping back, his fingers lingering just a beat longer. “Alright, alright,” he says holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll just go wash up.” 
As Logan retreats to the bathroom, you hear the rustle of him changing out of his work clothes and the thud of his boots as he tosses them to the floor. You finish dinner, resuming your quiet humming as you set the table. You finish plating everything when Logan emerges, work clothes changed for a fresh t-shirt and jeans. 
“Come eat, Lo.”
He joins you at the table and gives you an appreciative look as he sits down. “This smells incredible.”
You sit across from, watching as he takes the first bite, a prickle of anxiety setting along your spine as you wait for his reaction. A low groan of pleasure rumbles in his throat. “Fuck, this is good.”
A grin spreads across your face as he takes several more bites like a man starved. “I experimented with the cast iron skillet,” you comment as you watch him. “Looks like it was a solid impulse purchase.”
The two of you settle into a comfortable rhythm, enjoying the meal and sharing small pieces of conversation. Logan helps himself to seconds and as he finishes, he wipes his mouth with a napkin and sets his gaze on you. “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” he says, his voice low and warm. 
“I wanted to,” you reply simply. “And, like I told you this morning, you deserve it. Let me help you relax, Logan.”
There’s a pause, his expression softening as your words settle over him. You know he’s not one to ask for much and you can tell his savoring this moment. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” His voice is gruff but there’s a tenderness there that makes your chest ache. 
“A good something?”
He smiles. “The best somethin’.”
You finish dinner, swatting him away when he offers to help clean up and banishing him to the living room. Dishwasher loaded and leftovers put away, you join him on the couch. “Care to indulge me once more?”
He quirks his eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”
+++
Logan stares at you dubiously as you lead him to the bathroom and gesture towards the tub. You flash him a grin as a frown tugs at the corner of his mouth. “It’s just a bath, Logan.”
He eyes the tub as if he’s waiting for it to swallow him whole. He crosses his arms across his chest. “I don’t do baths,” he mutters. 
You roll your eyes and place your hand on his chest, gently pushing him further into the bathroom. “Yeah, and you don’t relax either. Just humor me.”
Logan gives you a look—half amused, half reluctant—as he allows you to continue to nudge him closer. He reaches up and scratches at the back of his neck and blows out a sigh. “Fine,” he grumbles, “but only if you join me.”
You laugh softly, leaning up to press a kiss to his chin. “Tough bargain, but I accept.”
You turn from him and run the faucet, letting the tap run until you find the temperature sweet spot. Satisfied, you toss in some bath salts, the scent of eucalyptus quickly filling the room. The tension in Logan’s posture eases as you finish preparing the bath, but he still eyes you like he’s not entirely sure what comes next. 
Once the tub is filled, you shut off the tap and turn back towards him. “Okay, now strip.”
Logan smirks and raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so this is what you really wanted.”
“You’re not that hard to get naked, Logan,” you say with a laugh. 
He chuckles, but follows your instruction, pulling his shirt over his head. As you join him in undressing, you can’t help but admire his physique, his muscles flexing and gliding beneath his skin. You shimmy your panties down your hips as he kicks off his pants, leaving you both bare. 
You feel his gaze heavy on your skin as you step into the tub and beckon him to join you. He steps in, sitting down so his back is against your chest and he lets out a low groan as the warm water envelopes him.  Wrapping your legs around his hips, you cradle him and feel the tension ease from his muscles. 
“See?” you say, leaning to press a kiss to his temple. “Isn’t this nice?”
Logan peeks up at you and smirks. “The naked woman helps.”
You grab a washcloth and dip into the water to dampen it before running it over his chest. “You don’t have to admit you like it,” you say, rubbing the cloth in gentle circles along his collarbones. “You’re basically a wet noodle in my arms.”
He makes a wordless noise in the back of his throat and closes his eyes as you continue to wash him. A comfortable silence surrounds you, soft drops and splashes of water and the faint background hum of your apartment the only noises interrupting your space. You continue to wash him, gently massaging his shoulders, arms, down to the long fingers that know how to play you so well. A deep groan rumbles through his chest as you rub your fingers across the skin in between his knuckles. 
You eventually let the washcloth sink and wrap your arms Logan’s chest. He molds his arms against yours, lacing your fingers together. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. 
You shake your head and hold him just a little tighter. “You do, Logan. Despite your past, you’re a good man and you deserve someone to help shoulder your burdens.” Your voice is sincere as you press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Or least help you relax every once in a while.”
You soak until the water cools just enough to chill your skin. Reluctantly, you untangle yourself from him and nudge him to stand. He’s already got a towel slung low across his hips as you step out and he doesn’t even let you grab your own before pulling you close. 
A yelp dies on your lips as he cradles your face in his hands, thumbs pressing into the corners of your jaw as he tilts your mouth up to him. He inhales deeply through his nose, his lips moving expertly over yours, his tongue seeking the warmth of your kiss. 
You lean into him, your fingers trailing along his ribs and pressing into the damp of his skin. Logan kisses you once more, a gentle press to the corner of your mouth before he lets you go. 
“So,” he starts slowly, “Now that you’ve shown me how you relax, can I return the favor?”
A mischievous gleam dances in his eyes and he doesn’t give you time to answer before slinging you over this shoulder. Your giggles echo down the hallway as he carries you and he kicks open the bedroom door before setting you down on the bed. You scoot back and stare up at him with an expectant glance.
“Alright, sweetheart,” he says with a grin, “My turn.”
1K notes · View notes
belovedcloud · 5 months ago
Text
Such A Sweetheart
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pairing: sugar daddy! leon kennedy x fem! reader
✎ synopsis: you need money quick, and what's a good way of getting quick money? a sugar daddy. you find a man but he treats you so good that maybe this may blossom into something other than a transactional relationship?
✎ notes: this is a longgggg one, i decided to try making a long one and writing this up at work every day for weeks was a struggle but i did it! if only sugar daddy leon was real :(
➤ WC: 10K
➤ CW: age gap, reader is in low 20's whilst leon is low 40's, talks about leon's alcohol struggles and practically his life, reader wears a dress, oral, fingering, dirty talk kinda??? not really, lots of kisses, maybe something more than a sugar daddy and sugar baby relationship, p in v, cumming on you, fluff at the end.
MINORS DNI!
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Leon Scott Kennedy was a dirty man. That's how he saw himself. The masses of bioweapons he killed every mission tarnished his being. There was no escape for him. Nothing could save him from what he saw fit for his life. All he could ever be was tool for the government, someone who they could rely on each time to discard the tragedies of the world. They didn't care who they affected, as long as the government were safe that's all that mattered.
Leon knew that. He knew he wouldn't be able to leave. Leaving the job behind was a massive no. What if something happened? What if another incident like Raccoon City occurred?
He was bound to everything of horror. Gore, blood, death. He had seen it all, he had experienced it all. The killings of his superior, Jack Krauser alongside the dumpster of death that trailed beside Leon. It was his shadow. All he could do was bare with it. Nothing could save him, until you came around.
You needed money - just being able to live was costly and jobs were going left, right and centre. No matter what you did, you couldn't grab a job. It was out of your reach. You flooded every company with applications; they were bound to have known you by now. Despite that, an interview was never handed to you. Rent was coming up and what else could you do?
Find a sugar daddy? It was your only choice so... yeah. You were going to find a sugar daddy.
Doing some research and finding out that there were multiple sites to find one. Clicking on the top site, sugardaddykwiky.com, brought you to profiles of many men. Many older men. You weren't going to be picky, there was no time to pick and choose who you wanted.
Clicking on your profile, you start to upload pictures of yourself. No explicit ones, just ones of your face and a safe for work full body image of yourself. Furthermore, to try and attract more men you type a little description about you. This would entice for men right? Soon enough, your little question was answered. Yes. Men flooded your messages, nearly all of them sending the same message of 'Hey' with a pet name in front of it. Maybe you were going to be picky, they all weren't that attractive. Extremely plain and non-lovable.
Reminding yourself that this wasn't a dating site but a site of seeking money you required, your fingers continued to scroll until a request popped up at the top of the screen.
['LSKENNEDY' wants to chat!]
Leon was shitting himself. He didn't know why or how he was so nervous but it was linked to you. You looked so sweet and innocent, no explicit images nor anything sexual of the sort. It wasn't his type of thing to see tits shoved in his face or somebodies legs spread across the camera. You were different. It was as though you weren't just selling your body to get quick cash.
Scrolling down he read your interests. His eager eyes scanning through your description once then again, and again. Continuously reading before taking a glance at the few pictures he was granted to see of you. He drank in your face, such pretty features plastered on you made his heart flutter.
If you were to take him as your sugar daddy, he made a mental promise to himself that he would take you out on countless dates. Spoil you rotten until you couldn't take it anymore. All it came down to was luck.
Leon was lonely. He was a lonely man. The thought of you brought a sliver of solace into his body. Perhaps you could distract him from chaotic life he lived in. Leon craved love not lust. A deep groan left his lips as he knocked back another glass of whiskey. The malty liquid seeping into the lines of his lips, travelling down his throat. His phone was no longer bright, it was pitch black. A reminder of how his life was.
Before Raccoon City, Leon dreamt one day he would find a love that would course though his life. A deep affection that would last for many years. Decades even. The proposal of a family was always deep in Leon's mind when he was younger. Sure, it was stored away as he didn't find himself to be fit for family life at such a young age... But he knew he would want one some day.
That suggestion slowly dissipated when he gradually got older. He still kept some of his features, that being his dirty blonde hair or his baby blue eyes. But they were permanent. His youthful skin creased and aged overtime and a stern look was etched into face. Completely juxtaposing what he looked like 20 years ago. Yet, your face lingered in his mind as he downed another glass of whiskey.
His phone still remained off as he stared into the wall in front of him. To any normal person it would have been a blank chantry coloured wall. Leon saw it differently as depictions of you clouded his head and vision.
What the fuck was going on with him?
Was this a joke? He believed it was his mind playing tricks on him due to excessive amount of alcohol he consumed. Even after chugging a glass of water to try and sober himself, he still saw you. It annoyed him but not only annoyance filled him. A sense of peace too. The two feelings juxtaposed each other, as if they were fighting to see who would win.
Leon got up, trying to distract the inner conflict he faced. Closing the curtains and sitting in a room of absolute darkness. To no avail the image of you popped up. A growl scrapped his lips as he rubbed his face. His body slouched on the couch, rolling his head back as another noise vacated from him.
He had to do something.
Smacking down the couch he sat on with his calloused hand, he yearned to find his phone. The device jumped up slightly from the force of Leon's actions - soon enough he snatched it up. His thumbpad drummed the screen twice, the light penetrating his eyes as he staggered to find the power button.
"Fucking hell.." A squinted look appeared on his face whilst he scrolled the brightness down. Leon's dull eyes pried at his device, swiping up just to see you again. Fuck. He didn't delete the tab.
You looked gorgeous. An angel in his eyes. Even though you were young and in your low 20's. His mind processed the information once again. Should he feel ashamed? Disgusted? Was he at fault for wanting something romantic with you - even if you were 2 decades younger than him? Surely not, you were of legal age and willing put yourself on the website. The underlying feeling of guilt was questionable to him.
This wasn't wrong per se. It just felt like it.
His leg quivered slightly, his calve continuously smacking the bottom of his couch. Leon's eyes peered into the screen. Why was he so nervous? Get a grip, he thought to himself. A deep sigh left his lips as minutes passed - no response from you.
Your eyes flickered on his profile, an older man of course but... God was he handsome. His blue eyes called out to you, alluring you in to look at his other features. How was a man so beautiful? Early 40's nor did his description have anything sexual. It was quite basic - the perception of secrecy interweaved in it.
Nervously, the pads of your fingers moved subconsciously. Your body scrambled into your bed. The comfort of it didn't ease your heart as you clicked [Accept Request].
Leon's fingers kept refreshing the website to see if you had accepted his request. To his surprise and pleasure, you did. His heart pounded deeply within him, his shaky movements transferred himself into the chat. The miniature profile icon of your face made him go into awe. Your face was truly hypnotic. His lips pressed against the rim of his glass, shakily holding it to his lips to a point where the glass clattered against his teeth.
Leon decided the best option was to at least start the conversation off. What could he say? Perhaps the best option would to go down the basic route, however, by now you must have had multiple men just saying the same thing over and over again. His gaze focused on his phone, his eyes practically burning through the keyboard glazing over the letters trying to figure out a way to wow you.
The constant overthinking led him to not even figuring out a message to send you as your chat-box appeared on his mobile. Frowning to himself, he thought he was pathetic to a point where he couldn't even type to you. He wasn't this nervous in real life so what was going on now? In others eyes, he had charisma even when talking to a few women... But even a simple text message to you and he was about to piss himself.
Your fingers swiftly left a message, you even felt yourself getting nervous. The other chats you faced with different men usually led to the route of using your body to please them. Or they sent their half limped dick positioned in the middle of their palm trying to turn you on. It could be that this Leon Kennedy guy would contrast them. A twinge of hope stay put in your heart to hope so.
After all, he was hot.
You: hi! :)
Leon: Hey sweetheart, how are you?
It was a basic way to start of the conversation. Pretty pathetic in Leon's eyes but he had no idea on what else he could say. A shaky breath left his lips, adjusting himself on his couch trying to get cozy. The pads of his fingers tapping impatiently on the phone case. The inkling of worry still lingered within him as his mind reminded him of your age.
Instantly, a message came through on his behalf. Leon wasted no time to read over your message, he felt like a teenage boy again.
'For Christ sake... Keep it together.'
You: i'm alright, i saw that you aren't really like those other men on here. you're not like showing your dick in your profile or something.
A low laugh erupted from Leon's lips. You did see him different and honestly good. He wasn't one for going straight into the sexual stuff. Even at his age, early 40's and all, he still craved the affection you would receive in a normal relationship. He knew the love would be dependent on the money he sent you - it was better than no love at all.
Typing back with a small smile on his face, his legs uncontrollably stood him up. He walked over to his room, the light thud following him ominously. A dim light covered his figure as he sat down on the edge of his bed, hitting send.
Leon: We'd only get into that if you want to, but I prefer us to know each other a bit more. Don't you?
To say Leon was correct was an understatement, it was like a breath of fresh air. Whilst you wouldn't mind getting in his pants, for a man to not want sex sex sex was refreshing. Yes, it was the bare minimum. Did it make you way more interested though? Absolutely.
A giddy wave of happiness spread into your veins as you kicked your legs up and down. An actual conversation! You could even feel yourself becoming slightly turned on. A little wet patch forming in the middle of your panties. God.. Was this really happening now? Getting turned on by the bare minimum a man could offer?
You: yeah, i would honestly :) it's really refreshing to see someone wanting to talk
The conversation prolonged for an hour or two, both of you understanding the boundaries that Leon and you put place to make this agreement as comfortable as possible. Nonetheless, you were happy with how he was and Leon was ecstatic to know you better. Regardless of the cost that came with it.
He believed that a person like you deserved to spoilt rotten. Just the way you acted with such grace - you were heavenly. Someone who he was happy enough to show you the wonders that money could give you. Alongside his love, but Leon was nervous. He was nervous that you wouldn't understand why he would be gone for days at a time with no response. There was no way in hell he would be able to just tell you straight up that he worked for the DSO. Let alone that he killed B.O.W's.
He pushed his thoughts aside realizing he hadn't even told you how much he would pay you for your time with him. Texting a quick message, he chewed on his bottom lip. The dull ache of it pumping, giving it a faux heartbeat. Pressing send, he groaned into his pillow. The scent of soft linen contrasted the smell of alcohol that loitered on his bedside table. His backup bottle of whiskey awaiting for him to gulp it down like usual.
Instead he resisted, not relying on the alcohol to knock him out. Leon didn't want to drink himself to sleep like usual, he wanted to chat to you a little longer.
It was hard for him to get used to the slang and language you used, back in the 90's the way of communication was way different. After a few key points of explaining he got the meaning of it all. Reminiscing on what you both were talking about moments before - he read back his last message.
Leon: So how much money do you want for your time?
A very simple question for a very simple answer. Wrong. Not in your eyes anyways. You felt bad if you requested too much, you didn't even know how much he made nor how much he had currently. This in itself was the riskiest part of the deal. Would he think you were just a gold digger? Genuine fear paced around you, he wasn't a man who you just wanted to fuck to get money from. Perhaps you were being delusional but you seriously wanted to get to know him. Even perhaps have a relationship blossom between the both of you. Or was that too much to ask for?
Being a sugar baby wasn't toilsome. Whilst you would make him happy, he would reward you with gifts, money.. deep down you even wanted some pleasure. Plausibly, you began to think that Leon would think you were some brat. Even to a point where he'd believe you were some dumb bimbo cock slut who needed cash.
Shit. You needed to reply quick.
Leon was wondering to himself if he did something wrong. Was his question too straight-forward? Too dry? He was always told he wasn't the best at texting. That his texting habits seemed as though he was uninterested at any topic he would text about. He blinked continuously at the screen, this was his first time even trying to get a sugar baby. Were you no longer interested?
He needed your attention, after getting to know you over text he longed to understand more of you. What was it you really wanted? Cash or love? Was it that you were corroded with lust and needed to get dicked down or did you want something romantic? In all honestly both options together sounded like the perfect relationship to Leon. A couple who would love each other both ways, sexually and romantically. That's how a relationship works right? In his eyes anyways.
Leon's mind was clouded with random scenarios of you and him both. He wanted to try all of them out, some less naughty than others but all of them were good in his eyes. Shopping dates getting what you wanted or his head between your thighs giving you what you needed. He felt his jeans tighten around his crotch area. Fuck. Was he really getting off to the idea of just making you happy? Leon's hand travelled down to his bulge. A light squeeze only makes it harden more - can you blame him? You were so beautiful and all he wanted was to treat you right.
A heavy groan elicited out of Leon's throat, waiting for you to respond as he tried to calm himself down. He yearned for your answer. The bouncing of the 3 dots encased around a text bubble enabled Leon to let out a sigh of relief. Taking a deep breath, he eagerly watched for the message he needed.
You: i really don't mind, i don't want to seem greedy or anything so you can choose how much to give me! :)
Shit. How sweet could a girl be? Not only did you agree to be his sugar baby but you didn't mind how much he would pay you for your time? Leon's throat was dry as he took in another breath, trying to calm the bundle of nerves rising inside of his body. His fingers lightly tapped the glass screen in front of him, juxtaposing his thudding heart.
Being a government agent, despite all the trauma from his missions and the devastating events such as in Spain or in China. It gives a hefty sum of money. With the title of 'Government Agent' hung over him, he could afford to spend thousands on you. And he would.
Leon: Don't worry love, how about $1000 for our first meet up? Plus I'll get you whatever you want after a nice lunch. How does that sound?
$1000?! That was basically your rent done minus some utility bills. For one day? Not even a day, a few hours! That was more than what any job paid you for 2 weeks. Shuffling to lay comfortable in your bed, your fingers uncontrollably type a message to Leon showing your thanks to his generosity.
You: $1000?? you really don't have to give me that much but if you do then i really appreciate it! when are you next free?
A small smile appeared on Leon's lips as he read your text back, his body slightly shook from excitement as his eyes traced over your message. He was free most of the time... Well, when he wasn't fighting for his life that is. Leon's missions were quite sporadic at times, not allowing him to have a proper work schedule. In this situation, it was an annoying thing to explain - nonetheless, he wouldn't be able to tell you about it just yet.
His job was risky. Risky business that he didn't want to get you involved in.
Something always hung above Leon's head. Never once in his life after 1998 did he get any peace of mind. It was pure torture to live sometimes. A straight bullet in the head would have ended everything for him. Within Leon, there was a feeling of perseverance. He wasn't allowed to die. Who else could kill the bioweapons and destructive beings that tormented the planet? If only he didn't sign up to go to Raccoon City. That fateful night changed his whole perspective on life. A renewed thought process that could kill the normal human. He himself didn't understand how he could cope. The only answer to him was alcohol, day and night. Bottles stashed in places to feed into his intoxicated addiction.
It saved him; it killed him.
You could perhaps cure the chaos and wreck that occurred in his mind. He was fixated on you. Purely you. He would guide you through the sugar baby life, hand you anything you wanted. Just for your love. Whether or not it was real love, Leon didn't seem to mind. Well - not on the surface at least.
Alone in his apartment, slowly becoming uncomfortable with the solitude that laid next to him. He typed out a message, hoping to see you tomorrow. Next week at the latest. Leon needed a change from his mundane life. Only you could expedite a change within his character.
You were the answer.
Leon: I'm free tomorrow, I can pick you up at noon.
Trailing over the message, you couldn't wait to see him. The whole purpose of tonight was to find a sugar daddy, you got one but he seemed different. Separate from the other lustful men you met on this site. In fact he was different from any man you have ever met. The long hours of the night that you usually had was replaced with a conversation that uplifted your mood and your bank.
Nimble fingers tapped on the keyboard, the phone screen lighting up your face - highlighting the little upturned expression you had plastered on. Impatient to see Leon, you send a fast response back. Demonstrating your need to meet him.
You: okay! i'll see you then, goodnight <3
Feeling happy in your heart, it seemed as though he filled a little hole in your heart. As well as the dissipating view of constant stress you had thinking about your rent due for the month. Things finally started lifting up for you. Maybe now you wouldn't think that you were going to develop wrinkles and grey hairs at such an early age. Being a sugar baby didn't seem all that bad. Flourishing at such a young age without the worry of lack of money seemed good in your books. Granted that others may think lowly of you, who were you to care about someone else's opinion when you prosper in the generosity that Leon was going to bring to you.
A impending thought built within you. This was morally right... right? Taking a lonely mans money didn't really feel like the best idea especially when reading back on the conversation you realized he wasn't some sex freak. He just craved to love and be loved. Were you able to bring him that satisfaction?
A soft smile appeared on Leon's face as he read your message, tomorrow he would be able to meet you. See that pretty face that he's been thirsting to look at for the past few hours of chatting. His fingers constantly tapping on the mini picture next to your chats to zoom into your face. He couldn't get enough of you. His mind purely fixated on you and only you. Was this a curse or a blessing?
Once switching off his phone, he again sat in isolation. Dejection spread all over him as a deep sigh scraped his throat. Why was he always so alone? Even laying in bed for an hour never made it warm, his side cold and the empty space next to him was practically frozen. Leon was going through a rough patch in his life - this patch being 20 years was excessive but he honestly couldn't get out of it. Chained down to his own solitude and remoteness of his home was too much.
Too much for a singular man who just wanted a family of his own one day.
Laying in his own self loathing, Leon breaths slowly mellowed. Keeping himself calm, taking his mind off you slightly - attempting to sleep. To no avail, he still couldn't tranquil his racing heart. A shaky breath soon followed as he crumbled into the soft sheets he bought for himself. Rich and silky cloth immersed his silhouette, his hand over his chest. Leon could feel his heart. Pumping and pumping, the skittish irregular heart embodied his attitude to the situation at hand. Fluttering his eyelids shut, the scenarios of you and him started all over again. Just this time, they felt more real. You were within his reach as his mind continue to run with excitement, love and pure unadulterated desire.
That night, he didn't have a nightmare. No horror; no fear. There wasn't a dream per se, it was just a night of sleep.
Leon's face wasn't twisted with a frown, his lips were slightly parted. Slowly drying as he huffed out a few breaths in his sleep. Dirty blonde locks covering his eyes as a peaceful expression smothered him. The recurring night terrors of Raccoon City didn't appear tonight. Nightmarish prospects didn't shine through his soundless mind to haunt him. The zombies? Gone. The blood? Gone. All remained was a man who just deserved tranquility.
Tonight, he got what he was entitled to.
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The blinding sun peeked through Leon's blinds, his body thanked him for the rest. No aching muscles like usual, he leisurely pried his eyes open, a quiet yawn eliciting out of his mouth. God, how late was it? Leon stretched his body whilst he adjusted himself to the light shining through, practically blinding him at first. His fingers tapped against the smooth wood nightstand as he searched for his phone wearily. Clasping his hand around the device he held it to his chest, switching it on to check the time. The bold numbers spoke to him, highlighting 09:30 AM.
Groaning to himself, he got up rubbing his eyes tiredly. Leon got a full nights rest. Unusual but needed a small smile laced his face as he realized what he had to do today. He was going to see you for the first time.
Swinging his legs out of bed, cracking a few places in his bed. A sigh of relief left his lips. Getting up was always the hardest part of his day but today it was the easiest knowing he was looking forward to something which wasn't work related. This time, it was to seek your love, to treat you to whatever you wanted - he was happy to do that. Overjoyed even.
For you it was no different, well except your rapid heartbeat when you realized that this was real. That you were going to see your sugar daddy. Could you even call him that right now? You had to ensure that you looked your greatest for today, it was the least you could do as this man was literally paying you for being there.
Doing your casual routine was normal as usual, your fingers just a little bit shaky from the nerves that coursed through your veins. Hindering your movements slightly as you felt yourself get jumpier by the second. Going through your closet, you choose something you don't really seem to wear often. A dress. A flowy one, he'd like that right? Taking a wild guess and praying to whoever is above you threw it on and fixed up your hair. Midway through, the mobile device on the counter buzzed, catching your attention.
Rinsing and drying your hands, you snatched the phone up and inspected the notification that stood out to you. It was him. You felt your body heating up, your eyes tracing the message.
Leon: I'm outside sweetheart, hope you sent me the right address. :)
Fuck. Outside already? You retract that statement as you swiped down to check the time. Oh. It was already noon. Checking yourself in the mirror, your legs rush downstairs as you put on a pair of heels. You had psych yourself up to even see him. Looking through the little peephole, you saw him.
He was just as handsome as he was online. Even more so in real life. Your heart was pounding, he could probably hear it across the door. Tremulously, your fingers wrapped around your door handle, slightly pushing it down to open the door. Fuck, you got this. It was only a date, and all you had to do was act normal. Normal and sweet. Leon picked you for a reason!
The moment he saw you, his breath hitched. He nearly choked with the air that stood in his throat, his eyes travelling down your figure with the dress that hugged your curves but still flowed with the slight current hitting your body. Leon couldn't believe it, seeing you was heaven right in front of him. A sense of desire permeated his body, longing to touch you. To make you his - he had to stay put. For his own sake.
"Wow, uh hi." A mumble left Leon's throat soon after he cleared it. Nervous couldn't even elucidate his very being after being blessed to even look at you. It wasn't only him with a stomach full of knots wondering if this day was going to turn south.
"Hey, you look... good?" You chuckled out awkwardly. Great start. Embarrassed within yourself, you try and think of something else to say but Leon's words cut through your thoughts. His voice is smooth and rich, like honey, a slight rasp laced in the tone which allures you in.
"Thank you sweetheart, you look beautiful." Too beautiful. His hands slightly twitched, a hunger in Leon wanting to ravish you as his eyes inadvertently trailed down your figure again. Heat bloomed in both of you, eyes practically fucking each other but who was going to act first?
Taking you to his car, Leon's hand glided over the passenger door handle, opening it up for you. A small smile plastered on his lips as his gravelly voice welcomed you in. The leather feel of the car seat hugged your body, adjusting yourself to strap yourself in. Leon soon entered after as he pulled the seatbelt over himself - turning on the ignition at the same time. A comfortable silence hung in the air as the vehicle took you to where Leon wanted to treat you. One hand on the wheel and the other clasping the gearshift to make the ride as smooth as possible.
"Do you want lunch first or do you want to go shopping?" His voice sliced through the tranquility that once lay around you both. Oh wow, so he was serious on treating you? Fiddling with your thumbs you wondered to yourself how you should answer him. Your stomach answered for you very quietly as you looked out the window.
"Lunch, if that's okay?" Your response back made Leon smile as he took a swift turn left, rolling into a small family owned diner. The aesthetically pleasing restaurant enticed you as he guided you inside. Opening the door for you and making the cliché comment 'Ladies first.' The place itself was cozy and warm, a welcoming aura embedded within it as you sat down at one of the booths. Leon, sat across from you, couldn't help but flicker his gaze on you every once in a while as you looked on the menu.
"Found anything you like?" He asked as he flipped through the menu himself, eyeing on the steak pictured in the booklet. His blue eyes soon bored into yours when you met his gaze. A soft smile resting on your face.
"Yeah, I think I know what I want." The softness of your voice was a melody to Leon. A voice that could calm him down even when he felt so nervous just seeing you. A channel of peace that he needed, a tune that could calm him even through the horrors that he faced.
Lunch went smoothly, the chatter amongst you two eased out into a blossoming relationship. Far better than just texting over two measly devices. Leon's gaze wondered over you as you spoke, completely in awe as he thanked himself for going on the website yesterday night. Your beauty surpassed all beings, inside and out you were gorgeous in his eyes. The interests you both shared in music tastes, hobbies and whatnot brought you both together. As if there was chemistry between you two, that idea that you already knew each other so well. You didn't just seem like a sugar baby in his eyes - you were someone who he sought love in. A person who Leon wanted to cherish in every way. The same concept lingered within you too, his presence calmed you down but comforted you in ways you didn't know were possible. He was your sugar daddy, yours.
Still, you and Leon wanted something more with each other. Desires that needed to be satiated soon.
Leon's card pinged as he paid for the meal, the waiter giving his thanks for the generous tip he left. Seeing him waltz off with the tray in his hand. Love filled your body watching Leon treat others so nicely. Fuck. You were falling fast. Too fast that it was scarily fun. His dirty blonde hair covering his eyes ever so slightly, his clean hands slotting the card back into his wallet. The slight veins protruding out, allowing your eyes to travel up his exposed forearms. Moles littered all over them alongside some arm hair.
His watch gleamed from the LED lights above you both, your eyes trailed all over him. This didn't go unnoticed as a little smirk plastered Leon's face. He was about to speak until the waiter came back.
"Here, it's on the house. Candy bags for both of you." The waiter grinned, placing two bags of candy in front of you. Candy? I mean, free candy is always nice. Thank you's left your mouth and Leon inspected the candy inside. Lollipops, hard candy, chewy... Before he looked up, he heard a wrapper rustle.
Your fingers tugged on the wrapper of the lollipop, undressing it for the ball of sugar that stood on a stick. His eyes gazed as you popped it in your mouth. A soft hum of approval muffled between the lollipop and your lips. Those soft plump lips that Leon kept looking at. A pang of jealousy flowed in his veins as he saw the way your tongue swirled the lollipop.
This was going to be a long day.
The ride to the mall was short, the same lollipop in your mouth as your tongue slowly was painted it's colour. You knew the effect you had on him, your head went crazy seeing his eyes glance at you often. No longer to your body, but to those pretty lips you had wrapped around your lollipop. Teasing him a bit more, a quick kitten lick around it made Leon suppress back a groan. Biting his lip hard and snapping his head the other way - pleading to whoever was up there to help him breathe a little.
Delving back into the bag, you grabbed two more lollipops as the mall was close. A small smirk thinning out your lips. Putting them into your purse, the drive came to a close. Leon shifted slightly to ease the stress in his pants. A bit too tight for his liking. Clicking the button, the seatbelt unraveled itself as he got out of his car. Walking over to the passenger side, opening the door up for you.
Taking your hand into his, he guided you out the vehicle, his other arm wrapping around your waist - his hand lightly squeezing it. The large establishment shadowed over you both whilst you walked towards it. Your heart pacing quickening with each step, Leon's hold on you was comforting yet enchanting. An immeasurable thirst building within you.
Shop after shop, Leon's hands started to become full of strings that held up the bags of clothing, makeup and whatnot you decided to get. No objections left him as you picked up something. You want it? You get it. Being treated to that sweet smile you gave him when he said 'yes' was all he could ever want. False. He needed your lips around his cock as he saw you continuously licking and sucking on your second lollipop of the day. That sugary rush secreting in your body, making you a little more hyper than usual.
Leon found himself mentally shouting at his thoughts. The grip on the strings that held the pretty clothes you got for yourself became tight as he scrutinized you. Unable to control himself, a huff left his lips as he continued to see you sucking on the sugary ball.
Fantasizing about you for so long led him to forget what you both were actually doing. Snapping back into reality, he looked away from you and saw you walk into a lingerie shop. Hold on. Wait, what the fuck? Lingerie shop. Leon's breath hitched as he walked in, seeing all the different mannequins brandish the laced items of clothing. He could picture you in the multitude of lingerie pieces that surrounded him - he honestly believed he was going insane. Your arm interlaced with his as you escorted him to the mass amount of fabric beautifully designed for your body.
A smug smile sketched itself on your face as you saw a set of lingerie, grabbing your attention immediately. Taking the lollipop out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting you both together - you turn your head to Leon.
"What about this set?" A faux innocence entangled in your tone as your eyelashes flutter at him, the lollipop glistening under the light. Leon forced down a groan as he looked at you - seems like this first meeting was going to turn south at this point. His dick was basically throbbing imagining you in it. How pretty your tits would be, the way he would worship every curve on you.
Damn it. He couldn't think straight.
"Get it." A demanding tone elicited out of his throat, an almost growl as he saw your fingers pick at what cup size you were. The tips of your fingers rubbing against the material, weaving your way through it all. Grabbing what you needed, you looked at him - hunger was apparent in his eyes. He feasted on you, his eyes fucking you once again. Leon couldn't wait anymore, he led you to the till point. His fingers taking out a wad of cash, passing the notes over to the cashier. Not bothering to get his change, he ushered you out.
You could feel yourself getting wet again. What was this spell he had on you? He could just magically cast on you a haze of desire strictly for him. The grip of his hand on yours was tight as he paved the way towards his car. One hand held yours as the other carried the bundle of bags you accumulated in a few hours. Reaching his destination, you stood beside him as he situated the bags in the back of the vehicle, Leon's face in immense concentration as he imagined you in the set. The bulge in his pants becoming heavier and more apparent whilst he led you into the passenger seat. Although he was tense with endless longing for you, his hands were gentle as his fingers lingered on your body for a little while longer than usual. With you in the car, he slammed the car door shut, hurrying over to his side - entering in swiftly.
"You're a damn tease." Leon's voice was hoarse as he started the ignition, his head turned side to side as he reversed. Looking at you from the corner of his eye, he concentrated on that little smile you had on for him. That fucking lollipop still in your mouth. You were a minx.
"I don't know what you're talking about." A teasing tone left your throat, finishing the lollipop and licking your lips to get that sugar coating off. He couldn't help but groan at the sight. His hand slowly wandered off the gearshift and onto your thigh. You could feel a gentle squeezing sensation travel up to your heat. Leon's palm gradually nearing closer and closer - reminding you who was in control.
The sounds of gravel mushing against the wheels of the vehicle alerted you of the end of the journey. However the house in front of you was not one you knew. Leon's house stood proud as the exterior design bestowed a sensation of luxury. Parking the car, he turned his attention to you - looking at you with the same message of need and lust.
"Do me a favour sweetheart," he spoke gravelly, turning to grab a bag from the backseat. "Put this on for me will you?" The tips of your fingers grazed his whilst he passed you the bag. The lingerie combination awaiting to be clung to your body. A nimble nod left you as your throat felt dry. Compressing your thighs together to relieve yourself of the ache for a few seconds, you view Leon as he gets out of the car - going to open your side for you. A slight shake in your legs was visible when you walked towards the front door. The sound of keys jangling looped your ears as your eyes laid upon the inside of the building.
It was beautiful.
The tidiness of the place was outstanding as you walked in. Looking at the place was short-lived as Leon took you into the master bathroom. Your fingers weaved between the strings of the bag gradually opening it up and taking out the prized object. He gave your waist a squeeze and left you inside to change out of your outfit into the revealing piece he bought you.
Leon's heart was racing, his steps to his bedroom was heavy. Opening the door he was welcomed into the familiar room, the scent of freshness coming from his humidifier. Straightening out the sheets, closing the blinds and dimming the lights he palmed his erection slightly. Light pants vacated him, trying to get his thoughts together. You were doing things to him that he hadn't felt in a long time. Looking around the room to make sure everything was perfect, his thoughts were cut short hearing the creaking sound next to him.
There you stood. Your curves accentuated by the set, your bare skin captivating Leon. You felt your breath hitch, awaiting for him to say something. But actions spoke louder than words, his hands slowly caressing your sides.
"Beautiful..." A soft mumble came from him, eying you down with passion. His calloused hands brushing over the smoothness of your skin. This sight only for him. A view that nobody else was lucky enough to see. He reached out, his hand coming to rest on your hip, his fingers digging into you. Pulling you closer, his body pressed up against yours - you fit so snug against him. Leon bent down, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck as he steered you both to the bed. The covers hugging your body as you plopped down, his knee propped in-between both of your legs.
The pressure of your clothed clit against his knee elicited a moan out of you. Dripping onto the fabric of his jeans, creating a darker colour on them. The smudge of your essence spread quickly as his knee continued to slightly rub up and down. Whimpers could be heard from you whilst your body pleaded for more. More of him.
"Please..." A choked whisper came from you, pleading with him to give you more. To reward you more of his touch. Leon looked at you, already so needy for him. Such a pretty sight glancing down at his knee, your panties clinging onto your puffy pussy. His hand stroked your side as he peppered kisses on your neck. Leon's teeth nipping at your delicate flesh - making a deep mark on you.
"Patience love, I want to take my time with you." He mumbled into your neck, his voice vibrating against your skin - tickling you ever so slightly. How could he call you a tease when he was prolonging this for so long?
Your hips stuttered, trying to push yourself over the edge as you rode out his knee impatiently. Your slick made it easier for you to get the sensation you longed for. His wet kisses travelled down from your neck to your collarbone - sucking and nibbling to mark you as his. Pornographic moans drew out of your throat, nearly bringing Leon over the edge already. He couldn't get enough of you. It was like you were some succubus drawing him in with every sound that became trapped in the four walls that confided you both. Addictive.
Lifting himself off you slightly, he removed the straps off your body, slipping the material down slightly. Your tits bouncing slightly from the action. A twinge of embarrassment loomed over your face - your hands shying him away as you covered yourself up.
"Sweetheart, what are you doing?" His eyes flickered up to meet yours - seeing your face he knew damn well what you were thinking. "Don't cover yourself up, you're gorgeous..." His thumbs caressed both of your hands. Avoiding his gaze, which Leon didn't like, you stutter out a response.
"M'just nervous." Feeling self conscious within yourself, you expected Leon to get frustrated. Contradicting your thought process, he placed a tender kiss on your soft lips.
"It's okay to be nervous, do you wanna stop?" His fingers held your chin, pulling you to look at him. A slight shake of your head signaled you didn't want him to stop. His kiss made you feel warm. Safe. Hesitating slightly, you pulled your hands away - allowing him to see your upper chest fully.
"Thank you love," He fondled with your breasts, his fingers leisurely rubbing the nubs on them. "All this f'me... So fucking pretty." Without warning, his lips wrapped around one of your nipples. Swirling around the hard bud clingily. He practically drooled over your tits as he looked up - seeing your scrunched up face in pure bliss. The sensitivity of your nipples caused you to shiver slightly. A small smirk grew on his face as he continued his ministrations on your boobs. Appreciating them, kissing them, sucking them. He couldn't have enough.
The cold air hit your skin as he unlatched his lips, kissing down your stomach. He could cum just from doing this. His fingers hooked under the fabric, prying it off you until he took the top half off. He pinched your nipple whilst littering your body with his soft kisses. A gasp leaving your lips, your nipples hardening from the coldness. Leon moaned as he felt his hips buck subconsciously into the bed, he was so needy for you. His body dependent on yours - the heat radiating from your frame made his cock throb with an ache that needed to be sated.
But no. He needed to make you cum on his tongue. God. Leon has to taste your essence. A craving that he could attain now that he shifted you further up the mattress. Propping himself to dive into your slick cunt. Manicured nails feathered through the locks of his hair, a shudder leaving him as he glanced up at you one last time. Telepathically asking for your consent when he removed your soaked panties.
"Mhm..." The mumble was quiet, but he heard nonetheless. You knew he did as he licked the slit of your pussy, a growl like groan leaving him whilst he sunk his head back down the apex of your thighs.
Skillful movements of his tongue became unmistakable, flicking it up and down on your clit. Mixing it along with a few kisses and sucking motions - it brought tears to your eyes.
Your heart and mind craving more, juxtaposing your movements as you were out of control.
Trying to push him away - feeling your orgasm slowly build up. To no avail, Leon pressed his hands down, suppressing you to the quilt and him. Sandwiched in what was going to give you an enchanting release, your fingers bunched up his hair to pull on it. Giving you some sort of control in the situation. This granted you a moan from Leon, still persevering to make you cum.
The bridge of his nose rocking into your clit, multiple wet sounds coming out of his mouth. Your pussy gushing at his experience, Leon needed you to cum. Hearing your gasping moans whilst his mouth transferred itself to your clit made him double take if he even needed to fuck you to cum. Just pleasuring you was getting him off to a point where he thought he would cum in his boxers if you carried on spoiling him with the gratification of giving you oral.
"Leon, m'so close!" The whine fleeing out of your mouth did it for him. He lifted his mouth off you; meanwhile your head shot up no longer feeling his tongue anymore. Before you could protest, Leon spat on his fingers, coating them well in order to put them inside of you. Your walls tightened whilst he would piston them deep - curling them so good at your g-spot. Alongside with his mouth returning back to your bundle of nerves.
An otherworldly feeling rose within you as you sputtered out filthy moans. Leon's lips curled into a smile, feeling that you were about to cum on his fingers. Muffled since he was sandwiched between both of your thighs he spoke out, a sultry tone laced with it.
"Cum f'me baby, come on." Those words sent you over the edge. The crispiness of his voice echoed in your ears as you felt that impending orgasm finally release. Screaming his name, embedding chants of thanks, he rubbed soft circles on your clit. Slowing his movements to grant you a moment's peace allowing you to come down from your high. With his chin soaked, his fingers coated, he licked them clean whilst looking at your erotic blissed out expression.
"Such a good girl, a pretty one at that." He kissed your thigh, getting up from in between your legs. A deep kiss shared amongst the two of you, you were tasting yourself on his tongue. Leon's hands no longer clung on your skin as he removed his shirt.
You saw the scars that littered his body, a dark mark highlighted on his left shoulder. Some sort of bullet wound. To pry in this situation would be bad, it would just kill the mood. However, you could feel yourself getting hot once again when your eyes trailed over him again. Prominent abs shining through with his biceps putting you in an non existent chokehold. The light veins protruding through, showcasing his whole body. All that came from you was a breathy pant, you couldn't speak. Not when he was this handsome.
"You're staring sweetheart." He kissed your forehead, allowing you to snap out of your trance.
"Sorry..." A sheepish murmur left you. Still, you couldn't turn away as your eyes zoomed around his body once again. Fuck.
A chuckle brought you to look at his hands as they capably undid his belt. The leather shining snapping your attention to very clear bulge in his pants. Feeling proud of yourself for making him hard, you meet his gaze on you. His expression was unreadable... besides the fact his stare on you was longing. That's all you could read off him. Who was he? What did he do for a living?
All of those thoughts were lost as he took off his pants, his precum already seeped through his boxers making a distinguished mark. Without thinking, your hands replaced his. Pulling the boxers off him in a flash to see the flushed red tip. Leon let out a choked gasp, unaware of your movements. Your stare didn't help him regain his composure at all, a roseate colour burning on his cheeks.
"Don't look at it like that..." He moaned softly. It was pretty. Minor veins travelling up to the tip, showcasing off the large one that curved slightly. The base of him neatly trimmed - he was clean. Thank fuck.
It wasn't long before Leon positioned himself to your cunt. Practically drooling for him. His touch gentle as he rubbed your sides - easing you to be less nervous.
"You okay? We can stop if you want." He mellowly asked whilst brushing away a few stray hairs from your face. His fingers lingering on your cheek as he caressed it softly. Seeing you shake your head back at him with a sweet smile reminding him of your consent in the situation gave him a sense of comfort. You saw him as a person. Not a tool, not a man who killed abhorrent things. But a guy who could make you feel good.
Pushing into you was with ease. Your sloppy pussy taking him in so well that his hips sputtered slightly feeling you tighten around him. Leon couldn't resist slowly rocking his hips, craving more of this sensation you happily gave him.
"You can go faster, m'okay..." Reassurance was all Leon needed in this. Hearing your words and consent to fuck you good snapped something within him. His thighs slapping against yours slightly, creating a soft 'plap plap plap' made the scene more erotic then it was. This was pure filth.
His thrusts becoming deeper he threw his head back. You felt so good wrapped around his dick. Leon felt your nails scratch his sides, you tried to cling onto something as he pumped himself again and again. Needing to feel your skin on his lips, he pressed himself closer to you - his kisses gently fluttering on your neck. The tighter you squeezed the closer he was. Smothering your skin with marks that shown you were his. He made you his by forming his cock shape inside of you.
The base of his cock had a ring of cum forming around it. Displaying your last orgasm whilst he was soon to bring you to your next. His hips didn't stop the everlasting assault against yours, bucking into you helplessly. Leon hadn't felt this alive in ages. This horny mess he was encapsulated in brought him to his memories of when he was young. A young adult pumping with energy once again but this time he was older, more mature. Much more experienced. You were the lucky one to feel his experience. To feel him let go of himself in you.
He propped himself back up, the sheer sheet of sweat highlighting his abs in the dim light alongside the beads of sweat that covered his forehead. "Good fucking girl... take it." Dirty words left his lips and flowed into your ears. Words that make you shiver, blush and shake slightly in his grasp.
A growl escaped Leon when he felt your legs wrap around his hips. Fuck, did you want him to cum inside? His mind went crazy at the thought. Calloused hands gripped you tightly whilst he looked at you. So beautiful. You were gorgeous. The mewls that scratched your throat as you shot your eyes open when you felt like you could see stars. Only to meet Leon's gaze once again - just this time, you both were so close to the brink of release.
The way the scene held such love. A sugar baby and sugar daddy wouldn't have this with each other. Maybe this was different. Both of your foreheads clung to each other. Gasps leaving your mouth, groans leaving his. Passionate kisses being traded between you two as his thick cock stuffed your sobbing pussy full.
"Love, fuck, you have to unwrap... your legs." He managed to gasp out. Leon's dick was throbbing, aching for the sweet release he craved for. You were in a state of bliss, your body nearly becoming limp as you obeyed with his instruction. The bundle of nerves tingled. You were so close. So close to cumming around him. Leon could feel it. He could see it. Shakily, his thumb reached that precious, sensitive clit that longed to be rubbed. His ministrations on it brought the loudest of screams from you.
"Leon! I-I can't..." Your wails only made him dizzier. Dizzy from how fucking pretty you were for him.
"You can sweetheart, come on... cum on my cock. Be a, shit so tight... Be a good girl and cum f'me baby." Leon moaned out, he was about to fill you up if you weren't quick. Lucky enough, a bit more pressure on your clit caused you to shake uncontrollably. The same feeling as before washing over you - just a lot stronger. His eyes watched everything. How your body shook in his arms, the way your eyes rolled back as his name slipped from your tongue. Looking down, he could see your tits bounce whilst he carried on fucking you. Marks strewn all over you.
Leon's hips stuttered, he swiftly pulled out of you - cumming instantly on your pussy. The white, glossy substance coating your slit. Some spurts shot up and landed on your tummy. His head thrown back as he came down from his high, his endorphins going mental.
"Fuck..." He held himself up slightly, trying not to crush you with his body weight. A deep chuckle abandoning his throat as he saw you pant. Your fingers clutching onto his bicep whilst you tried to steady yourself.
Cute.
"You okay?" A deep voice knocked you out of your trance, looking at him dizzily. "Mm..." Your nods spoke louder than your mumble as you held onto him. His fingers latched onto a few tissues from the box on his bedside table. Wiping gently the mess he created on you. Mellow kisses on your stomach, tickling you a little.
He wanted something more. A relationship even. But a long term relationship would mean you would see the nightmares that taunted him. The crying, the hurt, the horror. He didn't want you to see that just yet. So this 'agreement', was enough for now. But everyone would know he was yours and you were his. He would make sure of it. Even if it meant marking you up or perhaps putting a placement ring on your finger before the real deal. Anything to make you happy, you were his happiness.
He guided you into the master bathroom again. Just for a different reason. Running the bath, it filled up rather quickly. Leon's hands wondering over your skin whilst massaging any parts he may have clutched onto a bit too tightly. Soft kisses on your face, lips and neck carried on. Not out of lust - it was love. His love for you met no limits.
The smile that would creep up his face when he heard you giggle made his heart flutter. That hole that was punctured so deep from his job was filled by your presence.
"Thank you..." Your voice was melodic. Bringing Leon to look at you with heart shaped eyes. A deeper kiss shared amongst the both of you whilst he got you both in the bath. The warm water soaking into your muscles, easing them up from the pleasure you both faced.
"Of course, anything for you." His words held such comfort that it could make you cry. Who knew a sugar daddy could bring you happiness in the romance department? Or maybe he was just separate from the others. You didn't care. All you cared about was him, and you wanted to know more about him. Trailing your eyes up to him, you see him remember something.
"Hm? What's up?" The inquiry you had made him chuckle. Confused, you prod him to give you an answer. His lips pressed against your forehead before he spoke.
"Is $2000 enough for tonight?"
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jayparked · 1 month ago
Text
relief switch | sim jaeyun | m
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pairing: switch! sim jaeyun x switch! female reader
genre: smut
au: established relationship
rating: explicit/18+, minors dni
word count: 7k
sexual warnings: switch/soft dom jake and switch y/n, oral (male receiving), fingering, dirty talk, head pusher jake, unprotective sex, non penetrative and penetrative sex, whiny jake, begging, swearing, slight size kink???, thigh riding, hair pulling, lots of praise (praise kink???), spanking, naked dry humping(??? idk what else to call it), pet names (useful girl, sweet boy, good boy/girl, sweetheart, babe, baby, my love etc i practically used them all), body worship, marking, biting, edging, choking, overstimulation, forced orgasm, creampie, a bit of nipple play, roleplay for like .02 seconds, lots of moaning/whimpering/whining, a smidge of degradation, jake is down horrendous, they're so in love it makes me sick, good aftercare :]
a/n: sorry idk what demon possessed me. also shoutout to my best friend @sungbeams this one is for you ♡ and no i am not jayunki biased i dont wanna hear it anymore k thanks ♡
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Groans and jangling keys fill your small apartment as you and your boyfriend return home from your prospective jobs at the same time. No words are spoken as you both remove your shoes, throwing them haphazardly with a pout towards the shoe stand near the front entryway. Neither of you bothers to turn on the light, leaving your apartment in a calming darkness as the sun sets outside.
“Today sucked.” Jake finally breaks the silence, leaning against the front door. His eyes shut for a moment as he loosens his tie from his neck. 
“Yeah, tell me about it,” you grumble, hanging up your jacket and sticking your hand out for his without a glance. 
He hands it to you with a sigh. “I’m honestly in a terrible mood. Just a fair warning in case I say something a little mean. I just genuinely do not have an ounce of joy in my body right now.”
Normally, you would be comforting your boyfriend without letting another moment pass by; guiding him to the plump couch and putting on his favorite show, making him his favorite food, snuggling up with him and whispering sweet words in his ear while you run your fingers through his hair until he falls asleep. It’s a foolproof plan for when he’s having a bad day or just needs some extra comfort. 
But, like him, you also do not feel even an ounce of happiness in your own body. And a part of you feels guilty for not being able to swallow it down so you can be there for him properly.
Noticing the difference in your behavior, Jake straightens himself, tilting his head to the side while he looks at you with furrowed brows. 
“You okay, babe? Work doesn’t usually get to you like this. Do you want to talk about it?” He speaks to you with a low softened voice, despite his earlier proclamation.
Vigorously, you shake your head. “It’s just dumb stuff and I know I’m overreacting slightly. I just…I don't know…I kinda wanna just be in a bad mood? Does that make sense?” you chuckle, “I know it sounds dumb but-“
“No, I get it,” stepping towards you, Jake pinches your chin gently between his thumb and pointer finger, “Hell, take it out on me if you need to.”
It might be the way his thumb is lingering along your jawline now, hovering so his skin is only slightly grazing against yours, or the way his eyes darken as he looks at your lips, but something in his words sounds more like a plea than a simple comedic suggestion. 
You narrow your eyes at your boyfriend, trying your best not to convey how instantaneously he takes over your mind and body. It’s dizzying the way he looks you up and down, consuming how you can feel the heat from every slight touch of his hand. 
“How would you like me to take it out on you?” You question with a lowered voice, tilting your head down slightly to flick your eyes more up at him, batting your eye lashes in a way you know he can’t resist. 
His thumb stops moving just below your bottom lip where his eyes also rest. “Well, depends on the type of day you had. Do you need to let out your anger? Pretend I’m your boss and raise your voice, say some absurd things? Or do you need to feel useful?” The more he talks, the lower his tone and volume go, his voice growing softer while his speech slows. To make it worse, at the end of his sentence he releases your lips from his gaze, his deep brown eyes flicking up ever so slightly to meet your own. And you instantly become putty in his hands. 
“Useful,” you mutter, averting your gaze to the side to avoid the smirk you know is displayed on his handsome face.
“Oh, I can put you to use, my love. Knees. Now.” Jake commands with a snap of his finger before pointing it down at the ground and using his other hand to give your bottom lip a quick swipe with his thumb. 
“Right here? In the entryway? What about the bedro-“
“I thought,” he cuts you off, removing his hand from your face to slowly start undoing his belt, “you wanted,” the belt’s on the floor, his hands now unbuttoning his slacks, “to be,” his eyes are locked on yours, “useful,” he growls.
Placing a hand on the back of your head, he leans you forward, giving you a swift tender kiss on the forehead before pushing your head down. 
You fall to your knees quickly, your hands sliding down his torso until they rest at his hips where his slacks are barely hanging on by his growing bulge that you’re now eye level with. 
Between clenched teeth and a sharp inhale of his breath, Jake commands, “Don’t make me have to ask you twice.”
Your hands move without any further hesitation to push his slacks and underwear down from his hips, his hardened member bouncing at the release of the constraints. How is he already this hard? Jake’s weeping cock is already fully stiff and alert, a small bead of precum glistening at his tip, begging for contact. 
Looking straight up at your man, wanting to hold his gaze, you stick your tongue out and give him a long lick from the base of his member to just below the bulbous part of his tip. Jake’s head falls back against the door, his eyes fluttering to the back of his head as one of his hands reaches for your hair. He strokes it gently at first before giving a warning tug. 
“Please,” he whines softly with an airy gasp, eyes still closed, “not today. Don’t tease me today, Y/n.”
Even though he’s not looking, you still smile up at him fondly. Just for a moment, savoring the desperate look on his face before swirling your tongue along his tip. 
Jake’s body trembles, mouth open slightly as he sucks in a breath. Then suddenly, he opens his eyes. They narrow down at you with a darkness that loudly tells you he is not planning on warning you again. Jake places both of his hands around your head, palms brushing your temples as he lines your mouth to his cock. 
You hold his eye contact as you open your mouth and wait for him. 
You don’t have to wait long. Jake has never been the patient type. And when it comes to you sucking him off? He was never really good at playing around and teasing and for sure did not like to have that patience tested.
Slowly, but steadily, Jake pushes himself into your mouth until your nose brushes his abdomen. Stifling a gag, you moan against his body and try to maintain your focus. His entire body shivers as he holds you in place, hands still cupping your face lightly as your eyes flutter shut. It takes everything in you to try to remember to breathe through your nose, or really, to remember to breathe at all. Which seems ridiculous but, in this moment, every cell of your body is consumed by him. 
Jake’s head falls back against the doorframe yet again, an intense inhale goes in through his nose and his lips form in a tight line. He may have tried to contain his moans but couldn’t suppress a deep, guttural groan from ripping out deep within his throat.
“Fuuuckkk, baby. How do you always take me so well?” His thumbs brush at the tears welling up under your eyes, a soft, fond smile forming on his face. 
The softness of his features only lasts for a moment before he starts moving his hips with a perfect cadence, relentlessly fucking your throat.
“That’s my good, useful girl,” Jake slowly groans. With each thrust that has him hitting the back of your throat, you try to focus on your breathing even more. Your goal is to not gag, no matter how much your body wants to, no matter how much you know he would love it. He’s claimed in the past that hearing you gag on him alone gives him an insane ego boost. But feeling it? Oh he couldn’t contain himself. Knowing he’s too big for his perfect girl but she tries her best to please him anyways? One of the best feelings a guy could ever hope to experience.
And because of this, Jake knows exactly when you’re on the brink of hitting your limit. As much as he would love to chase his own pleasure, he’s choosing to think outside of himself and knows you need this more than he does.
One of Jake’s hands moves to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back and your mouth off of his slick cock, leaving a string of saliva connecting the two of your bodies together. 
Jake kneels down until he’s face to face with you, holding your face in his hands as he looks in your eyes. “That’s all I needed. Now, let me get a good look at you.”
His grip makes it impossible for you to look away. All you can muster out is a slight moan in protest, your bottom lip jutting out as you furrow your eyebrows. Thumbs catching some runaway tears from under your eyes, Jake lets out a low chuckle, peppering quick kisses along your face.
“As good as you make me feel,” he starts, guiding you up to your feet and leading you towards the bedroom, “it’s not how I want to come.”
“But I barely even-”
“Shhh,” Jake abruptly pushes you up against the wall in the hallway, his lust filled eyes combing over the spots where his hands roam all over your body, “it’s okay, baby. That’s all the use I needed from you. You did amazing. Let me make you feel good now.”
Gently and slowly, at first, he kisses your lips, moving your arms so they wrap around his neck. Muscle memory has your hands interlocking in his hair at his nape, giving a slight tug which elicits a sweet groan from your man. It doesn’t take long after that for the kiss to deepen, Jake moving one his knees to press against your clothed heat. He pulls away from you briefly to look in your eyes, looks down at his knee then back up at you, giving you an encouraging nod, his eyes wide and eager, swimming with excited anticipation.
You look deeply into Jake’s eyes as you lower your core down to his thigh, holding his gaze as you slowly move yourself along his muscle. You can’t hold in the soft whine that comes out as you finally feel some friction on your needy clit. Jake loves and hates when you hold eye contact and moan like this, claiming it’s an unfair use of power. He shakes slightly under your touch, gripping your hips tightly enough to surely leave some marks. He tries to hold your eye contact, but can’t help as his eyes roll back, his body moving closer to yours to grind with you.
“Fuuckkk, baby,” Jake lulls out, “you really needed me this badly?” He continues to grip your hips, now guiding you along his thigh. His assistance reveals his own desperation. Jake pushes you down harder against him while simultaneously moving you back and forth at a faster pace. Pretty little desperate whines come out of him as he stares hazeley at your lips.
“Mmmm, sweet boy, look at you. So desperate to make me feel good, hm?” It was hard to talk like this in this position you’re in. Too easy it would be to give into your boyfriend’s ministrations, too easy it would be to give in to your own wants and pleasures. 
“Please use me now.” Jake’s grip on your hips tighten. Your wincing muddles amongst his moans as he grinds you harder against his thigh. 
“Please, baby,” he begs again, his yearning glossed over eyes meet your gaze once more. A lightning shock shoots down to your already throbbing core, “Please need me.”
That is your last straw. 
“Oh my- I need you so badly, Jake. I can't take this teasing foreplay anymore. I need to feel you inside me. Baby, please.” 
Switch flipping yet again, Jake doesn’t hesitate and wraps both of your legs around his waist, now carrying you to the bedroom while you feverishly kiss along his neck and jawline, leaving a pretty trail of love marks as you go.
He walks towards the room with long confident strides, holding you up easily with one hand as he opens the door. And once you’re both inside, he closes the door behind him with a simple kick of his foot, not even bothering to look back as he does so. 
Laying you down softly on the bed, Jake’s jaw clenches as he works to fully undress himself. As he’s unbuttoning his shirt, he smiles softly at you and leans forward, connecting his lips with yours yet again. The kiss is soft, delicate, as his fingers continue to work against the stiff buttons of his shirt. Your body relaxes against the kiss, your mouths molding together with familiarity, tongues swimming messily with each other in a familiar dance. 
Finally, his top is fully undone but he doesn’t take it off. As for his pants, he’s long forgotten those somewhere near the front door of your shared apartment. Jake doesn’t hesitate with removing your clothes, practically ripping them from your body. He’s fueled by his need to see you naked and needs to see you now.
Your chest rises even faster as your skin is now exposed, your boyfriend taking a moment to marvel at your physic. 
“You are so damn beautiful,” he grumbles as he gets on all fours, crawling on the bed until he’s hovering over you, using one hand to pump his length a few times for good measure. He bites his bottom lip as he looks down at himself and back up at you, the sparkle in his eyes all too telling how excited he is to dive right in and ruin you.
“Are you ready for me, sweetheart?” He holds himself at your entrance, body frozen in place as he looks into your eyes with those big pleading puppy dog eyes of his that always has you on your knees. You could never say no to him when he looks at you like this. How he manages to look so adorable and sexy at the same time will forever be a mystery to you.
“If we wait any longer I might actually lose my mind,” you huff, leaning forward to cup both of your hands on his cheeks, pulling him forward into a savory deep kiss. Jake’s eyes immediately flutter shut as you guide him down with you, his lips hungrily chasing after your own. Before your head even hits the pillows, Jake blindly inserts his tip inside your cunt, the sensation making you gasp against him.
Jake chuckles against your mouth, taking the chance to quickly pepper sweet kisses around your entire face. “Hmm? Didn’t think I’d be able to do it without looking? Darling I know your body better than anyone else. I could find this pussy anywhere.” The confident smirk on his face pulls you in even deeper to his charms.
His words make you clench around him, making your boyfriend wince slightly.
“So tight. Even though it’s just my tip. I guess I should have taken the time to prep you properly. I’m sorry, darling, this might sting.”
And, without another word, Jake pushes himself forward, his cock sliding into you painfully slow. Each inch stretching you further and further as your body desperately tries to adjust as quickly as it can. A mix between a choked moan and a gasp leaves your lips while Jake turns his head to the side to sink his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder, small whimpers coming from him in return.
Wanting to hear more from him, you take one hand and intertwine your fingers in his wavy black locks, tugging slightly so his head is lifted from the crook of your neck. Now that he’s facing you, you can properly look him in the eyes while he whimpers again, this time from the tugging on his scalp. Jake’s bottom lip juts out at you, his puppy eyes are back, pleading for something unknown to you. 
Despite his pouty demeanor, Jake is still rocking his hips back and forth, pounding into you at a satiable rhythm. The dynamic between you two might seem confusing to anyone on the outside looking in, but the satisfaction from being with someone who’s both submissive and dominant all at the same time is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. Plus, it allows you the space to give the same in return. Taking turns between caring for each others needs to then be the one receiving fulfills you in more ways than you can even begin to explain.
“Aw don’t give me those eyes, pretty boy. You know how it makes me melt,” you sigh, eyes rolling back as you roll your hips in time with his thrusts.
“Let me leave marks on you then.” Jake doesn’t wait for a response. He quickly grabs your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging softly before sucking. Words completely escape your brain as he releases you, smirking before diving back down against your neck. Your brain starts to feel dizzy as he adjusts his hips, fixing the angle of his thrusts ever so slightly to where he knows he’ll hit your g-spot. He nips at the flesh below your ear, right in the spot that sends chills down your entire body. At this point, your clit is throbbing and it’s your turn to become a pouty, moany mess.
“Use your words, Y/n,” Jake chuckles against your neck, giving one last bite before flatting his tongue on the sensitive area. 
When he doesn’t hear you say anything in response to his command, he sits himself up so he’s looking in your eyes. One of his eyebrows quirks up, waiting for your response. When you still won’t give it to him, he stops his languid movements and slowly pulls himself out of you with a tsk tsk tsk.
“I know you know better than to ignore me.” He licks his lips slowly and leans forward, his face now hovering directly over yours. Your chest is rising and falling quickly, not realizing how out of breath you were from only such a short time of contact with him. Jake’s head tilts to the side, his eyes darkening ever so slightly as his impatience takes over. Suddenly, one of his hands is lingering over your throat, his thumb lightly brushing against your esophagus. 
“Now, beautiful. Why are we being so stubborn all of a sudden? Why aren’t you talking to me?” He releases your throat by moving his hand upward just a bit, his thumb moves along your jawline then up some more to trace along the outside of your bottom lip. Tingles and chills naturally erupt throughout your body with every soft touch he leaves on your skin. It doesn’t matter how much time has passed since you two have been together, Jake still has this unwavering affect on your mind, body and soul. Subconsciously your body communicates with his, going well beyond needing words at times.
But that doesn’t mean Jake doesn’t want to hear them still.
“I know you want something. It’s so easy to tell with the way you’re moaning and the way your hips are bucking up against me. Just say the words and it’s yours.”
It’s stupid to try to compete with him. No matter how hard of a stubborn fight you could try to conjure up, Jake always wins. 
Always.
“I want you to play with my clit while you fuck me,” you whine, drawing out the last syllables in an unmistakably ‘you can’t say no to me’ way, shaking your shoulders, closing your eyes and jutting out your lower lip for extra affect. He might be the one to win every time it comes to stubbornness, but no one can deny the fight you put up when it comes to pouting, begging, and pleading.
“Ugh, baby don’t give me that look, please,” Jake rolls off of you, now on his back beside you with one arm covering his eyes, “I just want to hear you say what you want. I love listening to your demands. It's so sexy when you tell me what you need.”
“Would it be even sexier if I just do it?”
Jake moves his arm slightly to look at you with a questioning yet excited gaze. His hesitation and agape mouth is all the answer you needed.
Without letting another second pass, in one swift motion you’re now on top of him; both legs straddling either side of his thighs and your core hovering dangerously close to his cock.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, hands up in the air somewhat similar to a surrender pose. Jake’s eyes dart all across your body, genuinely not knowing what to do. His mind races with all the places he wants to put his hands on you, all the things he wants to do and say to you. It’s happening so fast that he’s stuck in a frozen state.
You place one hand confidently on his chest, making sure he stays put. It’s your turn to hover your face over his, taunting him with what looks like is going to be a kiss, but you pull back at the last second, smirking at the dumbfounded look on your boyfriend’s face.
“Haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘actions speak louder than words’?” You tease.
“Oh yes, I have,” he nods quickly, eyes wide as he licks his lips hungrily, his hands now resting comfortably (and cockily) behind his head, “but I think I could still use a demonstration.”
With a smirk, you lean down and kiss his plump lips. It’s slow and intentional, setting the pace of not wanting to get too lost in the moment. After a few languid exchanges, you lower your hips down until finally, finally, your still sopping cunt makes contact with his length. You know he expects you to be just as impatient as him, to just grind against him a couple times before finally letting him back inside you.
But that would just be too easy.
You slowly start to grind against him, moving back and forth slowly. You press down harder against him when you get close to his tip, making the poor boy moan louder and louder each time you do so. Almost immediately your slick is coating him, the friction now even more satisfying the more you grind against him.
“Ugh…Y/n…baby…put me in already,” he begs, his eyes clenched tightly shut, “Put me in so I can start playing with your clit like you wanted.” Beads of sweat start to trickle down his temples, his cheeks flushed a glowing shade of pink. You silently ignore his pleas, wordlessly picking up your pace and pressure. Jake’s hands fly to your hips, nails digging into your skin at a satisfying grip. At first, you thought he was going to attempt to stop your movements. But, to your amusement, he’s only assisting you more. He guides your hips along his length while bucking his hips upward. You’re desperately trying to revel in the absolute mess of a sight your boyfriend is below you, but the friction against your clit is getting harder and harder to ignore. Jake’s eyes are still shut tight, his bottom lip now quivering as a slew of please’s and an array of petnames leave those pretty lips of his. At this point, your brain is so hazy you can’t even make out anything he’s saying.
Eyes focusing on those quivering lips, you lean in once again, this time more hungry and desperate than before. Going straight for that bottom lip of his, you pull it between your teeth, groaning with him as you feel his cock twitch between your other lips. 
“Baby, please. If you don’t slow down I’m going to come.” His legs are starting to tremble beneath you as he desperately tries to find relief and restraint in the same action. His composure is cracking more and more. 
And you only want to do as you're told.
So, with a smirk, you slow your pace to a painstakingly slow one. From quick and harsh movements to slow, drawn out romantic ones, Jake is immediately regretting his word choice.
If it’s any consolation at all, it’s just as torturous for you as it is for him. The moans and whines you’ve been trying to trap within yourself are letting loose and competing with the whimpering man beneath you. The longer you draw this out, the harder it is for you to keep your own composure, quickly forgetting the punchline to the joke you’re playing on him.
“Fu-fuck, oh my god. I can’t- I can’t take this anymore, baby. Please, let me come. I need to come,” he pleads with a shaking voice, head thrown back against the pillows so that the muscles in his neck strain. In this position he’s proudly displaying the bright love marks you’ve left along his delicate skin. Seeing those marks ignites something truly primal within you, knowing that he is all yours and everyone, stranger or familiar, will know it without a doubt. Jake always wears your marks proudly after the fact too, claiming that if anyone has an issue with it they’re just immature and jealous that he gets fucked so well and they don’t. It’s a part of what makes marking him up even more arousingly special. Plus, it’s not like he doesn’t do the same to you. The running joke at both of your places of employment is that whenever either of you come in with a new scarf or turtle neck it’s to maintain what little bit of professionalism you have left. But if anyone asks about it…neither you nor Jake are shy of pulling down the garments and displaying the pretty bruises in any coloring stage they may currently be in.
“You want to come now?” You finally speak up. Jake’s muscles start to twitch all throughout his body at the sound of your sultry tone. You watch as he bites down on his bottom lip hard, gripping your hips even tighter as he desperately tries to hang on for just a little bit longer.
Jake finally opens his eyes to give you that irresistible pleading stare. “Yes, please.”
“Such a needy boy, all ready to come without even being inside of me,” you coo and Jake just whimpers in response. You lean your head down next to his ear, making sure he feels the warmth of your shaky breath as you tell your sweet boy to come for you, eliciting a quick bite on his earlobe.
Of course, you do this while guiding your cunt only along the tip of his cock now, thankfully (in Jake’s mind at least) picking up speed once again. Jake’s mouth falls open in the perfect ‘O’ shape, his moans coming out in gasps and he looks in your eyes. Mere moments later you feel his cock spasm beneath you, his hips bucking up as he sits up slightly, spurts of cum shooting past your folds and onto his stomach.
He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close against him as his chest rises and falls quickly. Jake whimpers and nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, leaving soft desperate kisses where he can. In turn you wrap your arms around his shoulders and rest your head against his. Soft murmurs of praise and comfort leave your lips as you rub your thumb in small circles against his bare skin. You both stay like this for a moment, you not caring about the pause in intimate physical action. In your relationship, this moment of sex is the most intimate you can be with one another and it’s something you cherish deeply. Knowing that the both of you put the other person's needs and comforts before their own is something unique to you both.
The heartfelt moment doesn’t last as long as it usually does though, because before you can even blink you find yourself with your back now on the bed and Jake with a devilish smirk looming above you.
“My turn,” he snarls, grabbing your hips roughly and flipping you onto your stomach. Time isn’t wasted with your impatient man as he pulls your hips towards him, placing a hand between your shoulder blades to keep your head down.
A loud smack followed by your body wincing, Jake rubs his hand soothingly on the mound of your ass that he just spanked. He’s cooing something under his breath, but your heart beating loudly in your ears keeps you from hearing what he’s saying exactly.
You’re about to ask him to repeat himself, turning your head so you can see him properly, when he smacks his hand across your butt harder than before. 
“Did I say you can move? Face back down.”
The growl in his undertone sends shivers down your spine, eyes widening as you turn back and do as you're told. 
Not long after that you feel three of Jake’s fingers push deep into your cunt, pistoning in and out at an insane speed, especially considering he hasn’t properly warmed you up. 
You cry out in surprise, gasping into the bedsheets while the friction and lack of proper build up confuses your body. All the tension from before blooms inside you and you can't believe you’re already feeling that white heat about to burst inside you. 
“You’re already clenching around my fingers,” Jake chuckles in surprise, not relenting on his speed as he continues to scissor his digits inside of you, “oh my poor needy baby, you’re absolutely soaking me.”
You shut your eyes tightly, trying to think of anything to hold onto your sanity. You absolutely cannot come this quickly, you’ll never hear the end of it from Jake. You wouldn’t put it past him to brag to everyone and anyone he knows about it too, it must be some kind of record, right? Making your girlfriend come in less than a minute? Maybe even less than thirty seconds? Yeah there’s no way you can let him have this one. But fuck, he really knows how to curl those fingers perfectly within you, beckoning your release with aggressive tender strokes.
Tears prick your eyes and you can’t stay still, grasping at the bedsheets frantically while you try to adjust your body to avoid the inevitable. 
“Not so funny when the tables are turned, huh?” Jake chuckles menacingly, speeding up his pace and flicking his thumb against your throbbing clit. It feels like he’s about to split you in two with his fingers alone and your entire body is at war with itself – unsure if it loves the contact or wants to get away.
“As soon as you come I’ll give you my cock again. That’s all you gotta do.” He states plainly, almost nonchalantly, eyes focused as he watches his fingers drill in and out of your hole, unknowingly pushing you right over the edge and perfectly into his trap.
Everything blurs as your release erupts. Moans of pleasure and surprise fill the room while Jake grabs ahold of your hips, rooting you in place. 
“That’s it, baby. I’ve got you. Just needed to hear my voice to get you to come undone, hmm?” His one hand roams over the mound of your ass while he murmurs to you, fingers still languidly pumping in and out of you. Your muscles are finally starting to relax, legs still shaking as your breath catches up with you. Just as you’re about to collapse into the bed, Jake says one word that has your eyes opening wide in surprise.
“Ready?”
You open your mouth to ask ‘Ready for what?’ but before you can get the words out your cunt is deliciously stretched, now filled to the brim with your boyfriend’s throbbing cock. 
“Ah-aahhh,” Jake sighs, “you’re still so tight holy shit.”
You jolt forward as you feel his tip kiss the edges of your walls. Pulsing around him, you’re still sore from the damage his fingers did just moments before. Jake’s hands move from your hips and roam your body, admiring everything about you as he gives you a moment to adjust to his girth. His hair tickles between your shoulder blades as he leans forward to plant chaste kisses across your skin, groans singing out between each one that he leaves. His cock twitches inside of you and you know it’s taking everything in him to keep calm and still. Even his breathing is becoming rigid and off beat.
Wordlessly, he lifts himself up and slowly pulls himself away from you until just his tip is inside. It’s like you can hear his brain churning with thoughts and ideas, but you know his brain fog can get just as bad as yours and he’s probably lost in the moment.
Now that you’ve had a taste of him, though, you’re not letting him off so easily.
“Jaakkeeee,” you whine, wiggling your ass slightly to get his attention, which only backfires and makes your body flinch with the feeling of him still partially inside of you.
“I’m trying not to go crazy here.” He laughs. You turn your head to look over your shoulder and see your boyfriend's eyes glued to where you’re both connected.
With a warning bite to your tone, you mutter his name again and he groans in response, biting down hard on his bottom lip before chuckling to himself.
“Alright. You asked for it.” He snaps his hips forward and slams his cock deep into you again. Instead of starting a slow rhythmic pace he thrusts quick and hard. Your body is pressed firmly into the mattress with the way he’s holding you down, his grip stronger than you’ve ever felt in the past.
The pace he’s set is dizzying, pounding you deep into the mattress as the sounds of your squelching wetness fills the room. Your body doesn’t even get a chance to fully appreciate the bliss he’s bringing you before your system is shocked again and again and again.
“Gonna fuck you till you’re good and dumb, all you’ll be able to say is my name,” he grunts, giving a deep smack to your ass before grabbing your hips and pulling you back and forth with his thrusts.
Normally you’d giggle at him in response, but fuck he might actually be fucking you stupid. Moans, whines, and his name is truly all your lips can form. You want to scream out how good he’s making you feel, but each time his cock slams against your sweet spot your eyes roll to the back of your head and you lose any coherent thought that was trying to form inside your brain.
None of it goes unnoticed, of course. Jake is a very observant and attentive boyfriend in every sense. 
“What? Five seconds with my dick inside you and you lose your mind? Who knew you would be such a cock hungry little slut.”
“Just…just for you.” Is all you manage to gasp out knowing how much Jake loves to hear how you only go crazy for him.
“Fuck.” His thrusts quicken despite his already relentless pace. Jake pulls your hips upwards ever so slightly, but it’s enough to change the angle, his tip now hitting a perfect bullseye against your sweet spot. The force of his body slamming into yours doesn’t give you a chance. Before you know it, you’re coming undone yet again, body shaking as you gush all over his cock.
“You’re coming so quickly tonight, baby. Work really has had you all pent up. Don’t worry, just hang on a little bit longer and then you can rest, okay?” Jake kisses the spot between your shoulder blades again, one of his hands reaching around to grab at your breasts. He tweaks at your perked nipple as his pace becomes sloppy and uneven, his head resting on your back as his hips continue to snap back and forth. Small whimpers leave his lips as he chases his second release that he’s been holding onto for so long now.
“Mmm, fuck, baby, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he whines, lifting his head up and placing his hands back on your hips.
Three more thrusts is all he has left in him. On the final thrust he grinds his hips harshly against you, making sure his cock is as deep in your cunt as it can possibly be as he spills his seed deep within your clenching walls.
The warmth weirdly soothes you through your overstimulated body. Being full of him like this makes you feel even closer to him and it’s something you’ll never get tired of. Feeling his cock twitch relentlessly inside you is addicting, your body trembles with satiated pleasure around him, wishing this feeling never had to end.
“Fuck that was a lot,” Jake mutters to himself. You feel him spilling out of you even with his cock still stuffed inside of you. You chance a look back at your boyfriend and marvel at the sight of him; wavy hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, his eyes fluttering slightly from bliss and tiredness, and his beautifully plump lips parted slightly as he tries to regain his breath. It’s a breathtaking sight, and one you’ll never truly get used to seeing.
All too soon, Jake slowly pulls himself out of you. The loss of contact from him has you wanting to throw a mini fit, but you’re too tired to fight for it. Plus, it’s not like you’ll be feeling this emptiness for long. The likelihood of you being woken up in the middle of the night with your boyfriend between your thighs, lapping up the previous night's leftover reminiscence, is very high. Once is never enough when it comes to Sim Jaeyun.
After a moment, your boyfriend helps you flip over onto your back, nessling himself against your warm body as you try to catch your breath. Your arm wraps around him automatically, holding him as close to your beating heart as you can muster.
Silent minutes pass by. Both of your chests finally fall into a calm and matching rhythmic beat and his skin isn’t feeling as hot to the touch as it was moments ago.
With a groan, Jake sits himself up and stretches his arms over his head, letting out a satisfied sigh as he brings them back down.
Turning to you, Jake leans down and presses a light kiss to your forehead, his lips quivering slightly as his body still recovers from the intense orgasm. Wobbling slightly, Jake leaves the bedroom and flicks on the bathroom light, returning in a short minute with a paper towel. Wordlessly, he tilts your chin up with a delicate hand, fingers tracing outlines of your skin as he carefully collects the sweat from your face. And he continues this down your entire body, even opening your legs to gain access so he can clean the cum from between your legs.
He leaves again, probably throwing out the paper towel, obviously. Jake doesn’t return empty handed though. Water droplets intertwine between his fingers as the condensation slips from the water bottle he has in hand. He sits down on the bed again, smiling at you softly as he uncaps the water bottle, motioning with his head for you to sit up.
You do as you're told, wincing slightly as you truly get a feel for how sore you are. Everything hurts. The muscles in your legs, your still pulsating clit, your insides, literally everything. You scoot backwards so you can rest against the headboard and reach for the water bottle in Jake’s hand. He pulls it away, shaking his head as he tells you to open your mouth.
How could you not smile slightly as you tilt your head back, water dribbling down the sides of your chin as your boyfriend giggles next to you, cupping his hand under your face to catch the escaping water, as if that would do anything.
Cheeks full of water and eyes twinkling, you take a moment to look into Jake’s eyes. Something pangs lovingly deep within your chest as you’re met with the same look of adoration on his own face. It’s a moment where it feels like time has stopped, the world spinning by as you two live comfortably in your own little world.
Jake sighs as he tilts his head, a sweet innocent smile painted on his face while his shoulders relaxe, still holding your gaze. “I love you.”
All you can do to keep yourself from getting too teary eyed is jut out your bottom lip and hold out your arms to him. Jake smiles again and crawls towards you, the water bottle now resting on the nightstand, his head finding solace on your chest while the rest of his body sits like a weighted blanket between your legs.
Like magnets, your fingers instantly go to his hair, softly running along his scalp while lightly tugging on the wavy strands. Jake sighs with relief and you just know his eyes are already closed. His arms wrap around your waist, squeezing slightly as he buries his face upward to rest in the crook of your neck.
“I love you too,” you whisper back followed by a gentle kiss to the top of his head. You feel his lips brush against your neck in a lazy and comforting reply.
Your hands move lower, massaging the muscles of his back as you both go back and forth mumbling and murmuring about how you appreciate each other. The horrid day long forgotten as you lay peacefully within each other’s arms, knowing no matter what tomorrow or any future day may bring, you’ll always have a safe home with one another.
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a/n: ♡ pls like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed! ♡ masterlist all rights reserved jayparked 10/18/24 do not copy, repost, or translate want to be added to my tag list? click here
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hoshigray · 1 year ago
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𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 | choso kamo
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Finding out your boyfriend's a vampire was far from the chill evening you planned with him. But you can't lie, imagining those fangs sinking down on and sucking on your skin....it's kinda hot.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: vampire bf! Choso x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern! au - oral (m! receiving) - handjob - fingering (f! receiving) - nipple play (licking, sucking, tweezing, fangs grazing) - piercings (nape and frenum) - biting (wrist, shoulder, breast, implied more afterwards) - Choso got a long schlong, rip - missionary position - overstimulation - clitoral play (swiping) - cervix fucking - the first time you and Choso have sex + you two being nervy/cute - pet names (angel, baby, princess) - Choso takes blood supplements + drinks pigs blood - Yuuji is his half-brother - mention of blood (duh) and saliva/spit - proofread but will check for more l8r.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.4k (bro, wtf???)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: y'all watched that new ep, right? right. anywaysss, in celebration of choso [and yuuji]'s big fight being animated, i was thinking of vampy bf! choso for a few days and how cute/hot that would be! soooooo, enjoy~~ ☆ and tysm for 2.6k!!
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“Sooo, you two gonna like fuck tonight?”
“Whatever happened to ‘How’s your day,’ ‘You doing okay,’ or ‘You still haven’t offed yourself after midterms,’ Nobara?”
“Yeah, my day is going fine, but answer the question.” 
“I swear to Christ…” you sigh heavily as you walk down the sidewalk. 
The month of October brings more dread to your being than anything else. As much as you want to be festive, order a pumpkin latte, and chill watching the leaves fall gracefully with the autumn times, college life does whatever it takes to prevent that. And what better way to do that than have you suffer with midterm exams. 
You and your roommate, Nobara, have experienced the worst, especially this week. Having to study and pull all-nighters so much that you two can count with four fingers at max how many hours of sleep you get daily. Whatever gets the work done. However, it shouldn’t cost you your necessary slumber. Even your other best friends, Yuuji and Megumi, are victims of the tests. Hell, Yuuji found out he had an exam the day BEFORE and had to come in clutch by spending the entire day finishing the two-page study guide!  
All four of you are depleted of fun; it’s non-existent as you try to navigate out of this academic hell…Despite that, though, there’s one thing you’re always looking forward to during the week: the weekend! Oh, yes, today is finally Friday. You’ve been anticipating this day throughout the week, finally done with your exams and ready to relax with your friends after so much schoolwork. But that’s not the only thing you’re looking forward to…
Because this weekend, you’ll finally be with your boyfriend, whom you haven’t seen since the start of midterms. Choso Kamo, Yuuji’s older half-brother and the man of your life, is the only person you’d love to see sweep you off your feet and take you in his loving arms, away from all the stress and discomfort from your college life. The two of you have been dating for almost a year, and he’s, without a doubt, the sweetest guy you ever got lucky with. 
Since the start of this semester, it’s been hard for you two to meet at one place, let alone get on the phone. With you on campus and he outside with his job as a piercer, there have been times when you thought you’d never see him until winter break. Yet, it is now fall break, and Yuuji invited you and the gang to have a relaxing weekend at Choso’s place (with his permission). You accepted the invitation with a gleeful heart, practically bouncing and giggling at the thought of being in the same place as your partner again. And that’s where you’re heading now, walking down the sidewalk to his townhouse with a duffle bag full of your stuff, and you on the phone with Nobara to keep you company. 
“All I’m saying is,” the brunette starts on the other side of the line. “If there’s ever a good time for you two to get it on, it would be this weekend.”
“I’m sorry, since when has my sex life been on your mind instead of studying for the exam you have in ten minutes?” You hear your roommate suck her teeth, and you grin with satisfaction. “Besides, he and I are waiting for the perfect time to do it, no rush. And seeing as you, Megumi, and Yuuji will be in the same place as us, I highly doubt we’d ever think of having sex.”
“Hmm, fair point —KNOCK KNOCK— WHO IS IT!!?” You almost remove the device from your ear from Nobara’s abrupt yelling. “Sorry, Y/n. Megumi is here and says we gotta head to the classroom right now.” 
“That’s fine. I’m already at Choso’s place, anyway. See you guys later, and good luck with the exam.”
“‘Kay, see ya later.” She bids you farewell. “Also, if you two ever do it this weekend and you don’t tell me, as your best-est friend, I have legal rights to make sure all your cute underwear gets thrown out next time I take out the trash.”
“Good-fucking-bye, Nobara.” You scoff, your thumb already pressing the end call button and stuffing the phone in the pocket of your leggings. 
In just the nick of time, you make it to Choso’s townhome and climb up the stairs to knock on the door. Within seconds, Yuuji opens the door and greets you with a hug. 
“Y/n!” He’s always so eager and chipper when he sees you. “I was just about to text you; gotta run to the grocery store, then head to the pizza shop to place the order.”
You enter the foyer to remove your shoes while the salmon-haired other rushes to put his on. “Oh, how come?”
“The phones and websites seem to be down, so I gotta head there in person to place the order. But don’t worry, I’ll be right back before Megumi and Nobara.” He stands to open the door again before grabbing his car keys from the rack. “Choso’s up in his room right now, so you can say hi and chill with him while I’m gone.”
“All right,” You watch Yuuji run down to the sidewalk before he stops to shout something in your direction.
“Don’t do anything too crazy, ya lovebirds!” He sends you a cheeky grin, and you give him a playful glare with puffed cheeks.
“I won’t; go get the pizza!” He laughs at your response as he jogs down the street to his car, and you close the door when you see him drive off. 
Alone with Choso…The thought of being alone with your boyfriend for a few hours has the butterflies in your stomach become active, fighting the urge to smile with warm cheeks. It’s been a hellish month thus far. Finally, after all this time, being in your boyfriend’s arms is enough to wash off all the stress you’ve pent up for the past couple of weeks.
With glee in your steps, you tip-toe up the stairs with wholesome thoughts of you and your boyfriend. I wonder if he’s been eating right these days. Same with getting sleep, he has a bad habit of sleeping at ungodly hours…Oh my God, wait, are we going to sleep together? If so, it'll be the first time we share a bed together. Does that mean—
You mentally slap yourself out of your delusion when you stop at his bedroom door. Oh, snap out of it, Y/n! That’s just Nobara getting into your head. Plus, it’s not like you two will be by yourselves for the entire night —  the other three will be here. Hell, his own younger brother will be across the exact hallway! Don’t think such horny shit, for God’s sake…
You shake your head to abolish the impure thoughts, raising your fist to knock on your boyfriend’s door. “Chocho?" You greet with a nickname. "It’s me, Y/n. I just got here and—“ 
CRASH!!
The sound makes you jump, halting you from finishing that sentence. Rushed footsteps and another noise that something was bumped into follow along. “Ch-Choso? Everything all right?”
“Y-Yeah, I’m good,” you can tell even from outside the room his voice had an unsure tone; he was, in fact, not good. “Just wait, I gotta—Ow!!”
You know you shouldn’t have done what you’re about to do as it goes against basic etiquette; however, when you hear sudden cries of pain from your boyfriend, how in the world would you stay still!? With a chewed lip, you grab the door handle and bust it open to enter his room.
You know you shouldn’t have done that. Because what you see before you is way beyond your comprehension. 
The carpeted floor had items all over the place. There are packets filled with what appear to be red liquids and tiny red pills contrasted with the white carpet. They must’ve been knocked over and made that noise. Suddenly, you notice a stain on the white mat in a bright red color. That was the thing that alerted your nerves, immediately searching for the figure standing behind the bed. It was your boyfriend, Choso Kamo.
But was it him? Because what on earth were you looking at!?? He still had the same face, light brown hair that was usually tied up now fell to his neck, his black “tattoo” on his face now red and leaking down to his chin. And his mouth was agape, your eyes noting that his canines were extended out more than usual with red fluid at the ends. Not to mention that the man was now shirtless! His bare chest and abdomen out for you, covered with smeared….Is…Is that blood?
Choso slowly moves his hands up in defense. “Y/n…Just stay calm for me, okay?”
The entire scene was too much for your brain to grasp, your breathing increasing to an unstable pattern, and your eyes looking at every jarring detail doesn’t help ease the thoughts going way too fast for you. The worried expression of your boyfriend has your body at a standstill, and your limbs quiver as if you’re about to give way. So, what are you left to do?
You faint.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
He stares at you, and you stare at him.
He averts his gaze shyly away from you, and you keep yours fixated on his.
Brown orbs teeter meekly to your figure sitting on his bed before reverting back to the other side, and yours refuse to leave his face, practically sinking holes into his forehead. 
This has been going on for five minutes ever since your consciousness returned, and Choso cleaned up the mess in his room and himself — now, he wears a black tank top after cleaning the red stains off his body. After giving you an explanation as to what happened, you haven’t said a single word to him. You only stare at him while pondering questions of your own. And you can tell the lack of communication makes the poor man uncomfortable in the confines of his bedroom. So, for his sake (and your headache-inducing curiosity), you eventually uttered something.
“So,” you say the first word with a long pause, treading carefully on which questions to ask. “Those pills…are filled with blood?”
“Yes…” He admits with his gaze still not away from you. 
“And you take them every day?”
“Twice a day…”
Okay…Next question, “And those small packets,” you point to the dresser where a pile of said red packets stack upon one another. “Also blood?” He nods slowly. “Human blood?”
He finally brings his eyesight to you but with a hurried shake to the head. “No, no! It’s pig’s blood.”
Is that worse or better?? Never mind— You then point to your set of canines. “And your teeth, I’ve never seen them that long...”
“They only get like that when I don’t drink blood for a while. So, when you knocked on my door, I was just about to open a packet. But then I heard your name and kinda panicked…”
“Oh my God…” Everything comes together and hits you all at once. From his pale skin contrasting yours, the unusual tattoo across his face now revealed as a blood mark, or all those times you caught him drinking his super red "beet juice." It all comes down to the only acceptable truth that feels foreign to leave your lips. “…..My boyfriend is a vampire.” 
Choso cringes internally at the words you uttered. The truth has finally come, and he didn’t even mean for it to happen, at least not like this. Who in their right mind would want to reveal to their partner that they’re a blood-sucking monster? It’s the most dreadful talk of his life that Choso has done all his years avoiding. And now you, his sweet, perfect thing, have discovered his abnormal existence.
“That’s…” He cringes harder when you say more words. “So...” Anxiety pools his stomach, mind filled with uneasy guesses on what you’d think of him now. He could only assume the worst; it’s only natural. “...Cool!!”
Wait, what? That’s not what he expected. Way off, actually.
He feels the dent of the bed when you move closer to him, your face merely inches away from his as you examine every single feature of him. It takes the vampiric man aback, holding his breath while watching your face stare at him intensely with your beautiful eyes, beaming with excitement and wonder. And his vision slowly drifts to your lips, watching them move as you ask questions. And he keeps staring until, “—so…Choso!!” He snaps his orbs back to yours, his cheeks blossoming pink. “I’m asking you a question. So, since you’re a vampire, how come you’re not melting or sparkling when the sun touches you? Is that why you wear black all the time?”
“You mean that stuff from the books and movies?” He questions your logic, but it’s not your fault; he’s sure many others would’ve asked the same. “I don’t know about melting, but my skin gets dry if I stay out too long.”
You hum along to his answer, nodding as if you were in a lecture. “How come Yuuji isn’t a vampire, or at least half? Wait, does he know!?”
“No! No, he doesn’t. I became a vampire because my father was a vampire and turned me and my mother into one. I think I was around the age of twenty. After she died and my dad found Itadori’s mom, he didn’t change her into one. So, with that luck, I guess he isn’t fully a vampire. But I wouldn’t blow past it if he has some characteristics…”
“I see.” Again, you nod along. That might explain some things, like why he’s so fricken fast when he plays sports and that crazy-like strength he has… “So, how long have you been like this?”
“Almost a hundred and thirty.” 
Woah. “And when have—I’m sorry, how long have you tasted human blood?”
Choso ponders on that question for a few seconds before answering. “I started when I became one. I try not to have it as I did back then; the last time I had it was around two years ago. But even then, I switched more into donated or pig’s blood for the past four decades.” 
“Do you ever have cravings for human blood?” Was that too much to ask? It possibly was because Choso makes a face that conveys slight objection. Yet your mind genuinely wanted to know.
“I do, but I try not to act on them. Especially now that I have a human brother, and you…I guess it doesn’t feel right that I do so, ya know.”
His response replays in your mind, not because you were confused but because you understood where he was coming from. You’re sure it wasn’t easy for him to go around and sink his fangs into human flesh back then; modern times should make the task a lot easier with so many people on this earth. Although, you can imagine how hard it must have been for Choso to ignore an urge like that, specifically when it caters to his whole being. Alternatives such as pills and blood packets can only do so much.
“..…Have you ever thought of biting me?” 
The question came out on its own as your curiosity got the best of you. Yet you don’t regret asking because it’s not impossible to think of ever happening.
Choso’s brown eyes look into yours sincerely, releasing a heavy sigh as if the truth was weighing him down. “…Yes.” 
Your expression doesn’t change, remaining neutral. There’s no point in asking why because you can practically answer that yourself: he doesn’t want to hurt you. He’s very considerate, so no wonder he’d put your health and well-being above all else. So, why not do the same for him? “…Would you like to taste mine?”
His eyes widen at your proposal, surveying your face to see any twinges or crack soft a smile that entails a joke. There were none, your expression exhibiting nothing but honesty. “A-Are you sure??”
You nod with a smile. “Yup. I mean, it’s not every day someone gets to have a vampire taste their blood — let alone see a vampire, period. Besides,” you stretch out your arm, your wrist stationed in front of Choso. “If it were any other random vampire, I’d probably throw garlic their way.” 
The man scoffs at your comment. “Something also you see in books and movies, Y/n.”
“Whatever,” the two of you laugh at your silliness. “But I’m serious, Chocho. I’m fine as long you’re the one doing it. So, go on.” 
A moment of hesitation keeps him in his thoughts, the mental cogs of his brain deciphering what course of action he should take. But he does take your wrist with a large hand, bringing it towards his mouth. And before you know it, the vampiric man unsheathes his fangs out for display and sinks them into your flesh, tearing the skin as they pierce through. 
The sharp pain was expected, but you still forced your eyes shut and took in a big inhale. Choso watches your reaction as his fangs take in a sample of your blood for him to taste. The familiar texture of the body fluid courses through him, and drips of it slide down to his tongue. You exhale through your mouth, pursed lips blowing out cool air. It felt as though two needles were simultaneously stabbing your wrist, your hand forming into a fist to situate yourself through the hurtful sensation. 
And Choso just keeps watching you as he drinks your red fluid, taking in your graceful reaction. He knows it hurts, but you don’t say anything, pushing through it for the sake of him. He examines your steady breathing, eyes sewn shut, and plump limps agape for inhalation. You looked so good like this — tasted good as well, very sweet with a floral scent; it must have been your signature perfume. It intoxicates him, thinking of your body and fragrance on him and your sweet taste on his tastebuds. It ignites something inside him. Something that he hadn’t experienced in a long time…
“Choso?” You call out to him as his blinks signal that he heard you. “You done there? Don’t want you sucking my arm dry.” You jest to him.
He takes the hint and removes his teeth from your wrist, licking the two pierced holes of excess blood that seeps out. “My bad.”
You tease him some more. “Do I taste that good to you?” You didn’t expect him to give you a curt nod, a silent compliment from your boyfriend. “O–Oh…That’s good to know…” You say timidly, gaze averting downwards. Then, you notice something in the crotch of his pants. You gasp: a pinched tent. Choso follows your sight, finding out about his predicament to his horror. He opens his mouth to explain himself, but you beat him. “Can I take care of it?” 
Again, Choso tries to say something, but no words dare to come out as you crawl up towards him. His brain short circuits at your movement, his back hitting the headboard of his bed. His blush creeps around to his ears, contrasting his pale skin and chocolate-colored hair. You smile at him; he’s so adorable and shy about this. “Mind I take the lead for a minute?” You ask for permission, even though the answer is quite clear when he peers at your lips. He nods, your face drawing inward and your soft lips landing on his.
One kiss. Two kisses and a moan. Three kisses pass, and it’s at this point that you two can’t get off each other. As his hand snakes to the back of your head to deepen the kiss, he takes your mewls with his lips, the insertion of his tongue making your toes curl. 
Taking the lead as promised, you bring a hand down to the zipper of his ripped jeans, bringing the zipper and the clothing down to throw on the floor. Your fingers curl around the band of his black boxer briefs, pulling them down to reveal his lo— WHAT THE FUCK!!??
His erection springs out from his underwear, and what you’re met with is a fucking behemoth. For one, the thing was way longer than you anticipated — most definitely the longest you’ve had within reach. And because of its length, it looked so pretty to look at. The way his precum trickles down his glans to the underside is so magnificent to your eyes that you’re practically stuck looking at it. And…Is that a piercing right at his frenulum? Oh, wow. Vampire dick, huh.
“Heh, you like what you see, princess?” Suddenly, you feel so small from being called out with that little tease from your boyfriend. You give him a condescending expression, making him chuckle to himself. And who told him to call you that cute nickname!?… Keep going.
Back to the matter, you ogle at his dick again and mentally prep yourself by slowly moving your hand toward it. Your fingers curl around the base and unhurriedly stroke him to figure out a good pace to start. A moan from Choso entails that you know what you’re doing, so you dial up the speed and go further up, stopping your strokes from his piercing down to the base.
He becomes more vocal as your friction becomes more confident, spitting on your hand and tightening your grip to make it easier for his rough skin to slide across your palm. Sticking with a firm and consistent rhythm, you watch your hand go to work on his shaft, watching more of his precum leak and slide down to your fingers. It was so lewd yet so arousing; you feel the throbbing heat between your legs begins to form, swaying your ass to ease the pleasurable sensation while instructing a pornographic act.
“Ahhh, ahhnn, oh shit…” He stammers to give you a proper response, your hand feeling too good. “Oh fuck, your hand feels so good, angel, so goo—Nhhhh!!”
“Really?” You can’t deny the pride you feel for yourself, so you move down to situate between his legs. “That’s all that matters, then.” You bring your free hand to massage his testicles and cover more surface, and more of Choso’s whines and croaks fill the space, his hips bucking to ensure more friction and pleasure on his end.
With the rate this is going, more of his essence leaks out from his urethra, and the raunchy image playing right in front of you has your lips quiver. An intrusive thought roams around your brain while looking at his pink glans. You chew on your lips as you decide on what to do. And when you finally do, it’s now or never.
With a gulp, you bring the tip of his cock to your lips, and the man sharply gasps at the wet sensation of your tongue on his glans. The precum leaves a salty aftertaste on your tastebuds, proving that this is happening: you’re giving your vampiric boyfriend a blowjob right now. Deciding to take things to the next level, you intake more of his inches as much as you can. Not the whole thing because you know you’d probably choke, so you take your time inhaling his length at a comfortable pace and manner. And once you bob your head, the hisses and groans from Choso should give you an idea that he’s feeling elated.
“Haahh…Mmmph…Y/n, your mouth feels so good—Oh shit…” He brings a hand down to the top of your head, a sign you can guess that he wants you to keep going. And so you do, speeding up your motions. Your mouth sucks and teases the underside of his dick, your tongue curves and licks around the piercing of his frenulum, and he jerks when you slowly teasingly lick from the base to the tip. You bring your hand to the rest of the inches you couldn’t cover, your pretty fingers sliding up and down his dick while your free hand comes to his balls for you to massage. The sudden contact of your hands wasn’t expected, his body jolting to the sensations of your tongue and fingers around him, kneading his scrotum as you playfully lick on his cockhead. “—Khhh, ohhhh, fuck…Y/n, baby, I’m—Ahahhh!!”
From the sound of it, he was bound to release his load. So you prepare and bring the tip back into your warm mouth, urging the man to climax. With a few more pumps from your hands coinciding with the laps and sucks of your plump lips, he ruts his groin to your face as his essence spreads inside your oral cavity. And you take it like a champ, sucking every pump to your throat, not letting the tip go until he finished. So, once his body calms down, you release him, wiping off the trail of saliva from your mouth.
Yet it doesn’t stop there; of course, it doesn’t.  Because Choso’s cock is very much still sprung and active from your blowjob, meaning it’s inevitable that you’re going to move on to the next phase. And judging by the sheer length of this thing, you have no idea how that shit is gonna fit inside of you. Damn, vampire dick sure is something…
“Y/n?” You snap back from your thoughts when Choso calls out to you, noticing you gawking at his size. “You don’t have to do the rest if you don’t want, baby. I can take care of it.”He’s so sweet looking out for you as he’s aware that you’re a little worried. 
But you surprise him when you exit off the bed for a quick second, removing your leggings and underwear for the carpet to keep for you. The same thing goes for your matching bra. And as you crawl back to bed, his wide eyes never leave your lower figure, watching you lie on your back with your head on a pillow and your legs spread wide. “As long as you take the lead, I’ll be fine, Chocho.”
It’s his turn to gulp and ease his dry throat before getting on his knees and positioning himself between your legs, dark brown orbs intaking every detail of your cunt that’s exposed for him. You chew on your lip, “It’s embarrassing if you stare so hard at it, ya know…”
“S-Sorry,” He apologizes while getting back to the task. He grabs ahold of his length and aligns the tip to your wet entrance, and your breath hitches at the contact. “I’ll go real slow, okay?”You give a couple of honest nods for confirmation, and he watches your breathing. When he notes your inhales and exhales, he pushes into your folds. With every inhale you take, he nudges further into you. The pain gets bitter and bitter by the second, and your hands grip the sheets beneath you. “Relax for me, angel, relax.” He comes down to whisper those words to ear; swear to God, you could’ve moaned right there and then. However, you switch your focus to following his advice, reminding your body to stop resisting the unfamiliar limb making entry. The pain is still present, but you count your breaths to distract your mind until the tip finally makes it in, a sharp gasp sneaking past you and a hiss from Choso when you involuntarily grasp around him while he pushes more of him inside.  
However, he doesn’t move right away, giving you as much time as you need to catch a steady pattern to breathe along with. Your head already feels too hot, and your chest feels too tight to breathe. You peer down to find that he is only halfway in, and there’s no amount of words to describe the disbelief you’re experiencing at this moment. “I feel…so full already…” You nearly choke on your words. You can practically feel his piercing scrape your insides.
“I know, princess,” he comforted you with a kiss on the forehead while lifting your shirt, your chest meeting his cold, slender fingers that massaged your mounds. All the while, he pushes his cock further into your chasm, and your breathing goes shaky as you try and take every inch of him. Then all of a sudden, your body jolts upward when you feel the tip of his cock hit your cervix; you can only guess now that everything’s entirely inside you. Oh yeah, vampire dick is most definitely something else. Tears start to water your eyes, and your hands come around Chos’s neck, the coldness of his nape piercing greeting your skin. “—Mmmm, fuckin’ Christ…I’m gonna go start moving now, Y/n.”
You appreciate the warning because, with the way his hips start to create a motion to and fro from your entrance, it’s surreal that his shaft is churning your inner wall with minimal effort. Shivers crawl up your spine every time the base meets your southern lips, grazes to your most tender spots result in you chewing on your bottom lip, and God, the occasional jab to your cervix is something you’ll have to get used to. He sucks on one nipple while the other hand tends to the other, the laps of his tongue on the bud of your breast feel so good, and you gasp when his fangs lightly graze it. So exhilaratingly dangerous. 
“Choso—Ohhhh…” you coo, your head thrown back when he tweezes your nipple simultaneously with the jab to your cervix. The pace of his thrusts increases a tad, and your voice becomes more vocal than before, filling his bedroom with your breathy whimpers. “So big, you’re so big for me—Ohooo!”
“—Mmfhh!! Fuck, you feel so good for me, princess…Shiiiit—” The way your cunt wraps around him so tightly causes him to rut into you harder and faster, evoking spine-chilling whines from your puffy, bitten lips. Your disheveled figure squirms on the sheets, holding onto Choso for dear life as he churns your tummy insides. Your fragrance attacks his nose when he kisses your neck, nibbling the skin to listen to your cute gasps more. Then, the urge rises. He opens his mouth for his fangs to scrape your neck.
“Ahahhnn!! Ch–Chosooo!!” 
Your voice halts his unconscious, realizing what he was about to do and quickly withdrawing his teeth from your neck. No, not now… He thinks to himself, moving his fangs to your shoulder instead. The bite elicits a sharp shriek from your unbeknownst self. Your nails dig into his shoulders, the pain motivating him to explore more of your body with your mouth. 
You can feel his kisses trail down your collarbone and breast, sucking on your nipples once more before leaving a tiny bite. You clamp around his girth as a response, which jabs into your cervix repeatedly with precision. More kisses and licks later, and he leaves a bite mark by your collarbone, sucking on the spot to taste more of your sweet blood. Your mind goes dizzy with the constant of his lips and teeth, and the commotion down south has you wrap your legs around him, caging him in as your climax is soon to come.
“—Nnaahh! Ahaahhnn!! Oh, God, Ohmyfuckin’Go—Hhmmff!!” Choso leads a hand down to your clitoris, and you see stars in no time. “Chosooo!! Yer handsss, you’re gonna make me cummm!! Ooooh, shhahhh!!”
Choso listens to your pleas with attentive ears, his fingers swiping rampantly on your clit. Your choked sobs are so beautiful to hear. The way your walls grasp around his length entails you’re about to come on him any second now. “Go on, my angel. Ring me out—Hnnghh!! So fuckin’ tight…”
Erratic ruts to your sloppy cunt cause wet noises to fill your eardrums, and the heat in your face is unbearable while your head pounds harshly. With the swipes on your clit and him grinding his cock to your tender spot, it’s apparent that you two come concurrently. He fills your cunt with his anticipated load while your velvety walls contract around him euphorically, and exchanged pants fill the space between your sweaty bodies. 
The two of you experience shocks of your own as your heaving bodies rest on each other, Choso nuzzling his face to your neck as his hand softly massages your breast. Your body calms down, gradually exiting your blissful haze. But it tenses again when you feel another sharp pain in your shoulder, and you snicker while pulling his ear to tease. 
“Let you have a taste, now you’re already hooked, huh…”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Choso uses a washcloth to dab on the bite marks around your body, gently pressing down on it and wiping off any blood that leaves your newly added markings. The warm cloth feels good on your cold skin — as if the stinging sensation subsides in seconds. 
“You know,” You hum along as he takes care of your body. “I didn’t think you’d be that much of a biter.”
“Sorry,” he moves to your front, dabbing the teeth marks on your breasts and shoulders. You can see the hint of pink that flushes his cheeks and ears. “Got a little carried away…”
You giggle. “No need to apologize, Chocho.” The nickname has him blush harder. He’s so cute when he’s flustered. “Just goes to show that you were enjoying the moment.”
His hands suddenly stop moving, the washcloth now around your wrist. “…Did you?” Caramel eyes dare to peek at yours. “Did you enjoy it?”
You could tell that the question carried a deep-rooted meaning. Not only was this the first time you and Choso had sex, but it was also within the same day you found out he was a vampire. If you were in his shoes, you could guess he’d probably think you didn’t like the experience or found it heavily discomforting. Yet that wasn’t the case at all. So, you have to communicate that to him. 
With a warm smile, you let him know, “Yes, I did. I had a great time.” Before you can say more, a random thought prompts you to ask a question. “Hey, I felt you were about to bite my neck, but you didn’t.”
 “Hmm? Oh, umm, yeah, I did. The only way for someone to become a vampire is by biting the neck,” He confirms, his gaze drifting down to your wrist as he uses the wet cloth to dab on the mark. “But I don’t want you becoming one now. At least, not without you telling me.”
“Wait, you don't want me to be a vampire?”
“I mean, that’s up to you, honestly. As much as I love you and would love the idea of spending my life with you, that’s only my selfish wish at the end of the day. The choice should be yours to make, not mine.”
You remove your hand from his hold and place it on his cold cheek. The other hand comes up to cup the other, provoking your boyfriend to look directly at you. 
“You’re so sweet, you know that?” You have never seen his face change into a flash of pink so quickly; it makes you giggle at him. “Chocho, I appreciate you telling me the truth about yourself. I’m sure it’s been hard on you to carry this burden of pretending to be something you’re not, especially with me. So, again, thank you…However, I can’t really see myself as a vampire, at least right now. My life seems to be at a good place right now, and I want to experience it first-hand, ya know. With you by my side.”
You know Choso is listening to you word-for-word; his brown eyes never leaving your face is evidence of such. So you continue: “So, until then, let me be human for a while longer. When the time is right, I’ll let you know. Sounds good?”
The brown-haired man gives you a smile before answering, resulting in yours broadening. “I’m cool with that.”
You nod. “Cool.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…You want more of my blood, huh.”
“…..I’m sorry,” you laugh at his awkwardness. “You just smell so good. And you taste sweet…”
“In that case,” you withdraw your hands from his cheek and extend an arm out for him. “Have one last taste.”
There’s hesitance when his hand grabs ahold of your wrist. But when he knows you’re complying and on board with this, Choso brings your wrist to his lips, his fangs pierce down on your skin, and he sucks your blood. The pain this time around wasn’t too excruciating. Maybe with all the bites you have on your body right now, you came around and got used to it. 
And who knows? Perhaps you’ll grow to love the sensation soon enough.
“Yo! I’m back!” The two of you freeze. A familiar voice from the other side of the hallway brings you back to the present moment. You then remember that Yuuji promised to return from the store and pizza place. And seeing as though time has passed enough for him to be done, the warmth of your body shifts to a disturbing shiver when the bedroom door opens up. “I got the pizzas and left them on top of the oven—“
The salmon-haired other stopped mid-sentence when his eyesight landed in your direction. You can only imagine what’s going through his mind when he looks at you and Choso because that was the same experience you went through a few hours back.
Yuuji looks at the two of you on top of the bed. Clothes decorating the carpeted floor, both your bodies free and nude, your tits out for him to see crystal clear. One of your hands holds a washcloth that harbors red, bloody stains. The other hand stretched out towards Choso’s mouth, where the younger notices fangs withdrew from your wrist. The newly drawn blood from your new mark connects to the sharp teeth of his older brother.
Thirty seconds go by where no one says anything, just three pairs of eyes and figures falling victim to the discomfiting silence of this situation. Until Yuuji starts to uncomfortably laugh at the sight before him for a few seconds. And then suddenly, he stops, and his balance gives way for his body to meet with the floor beneath him.
He fainted.
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♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly <3 header art by rororogi mogera + dividers by the amazing @/cafekitsune!!
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on-leatheredwings · 8 months ago
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Remedial Lesson (18+)
Yandere ! Dick Grayson x (AFAB) Reader
> romantic, 18+ > request: non-con for dick grayson? maybe him abusing his power as the titans leader to be a little flirty/touchy with reader before tricking them into letting him inside of their bedroom under false pretenses? > tw/cw: explicit non-con, baby trapping, yandere behaviors, abusive power dynamic > a/n: i just love writing a manipulative dick! And i love writing a manipulative Dick! (ba dum tss) emphasis on non-con in tw's, its not dubcon! > word count: 2545
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Stupid, stupid. 
At that thought, the logical, respectable half of your brain admonishes you.
You aren’t stupid. You just were unlucky, you correct softly. You’re plenty capable, and an asset to the team. It could’ve happened to anybody. 
Recently, you’ve been trying to stop your self-deprecation, in an attempt to bolster your self-esteem, solidify your confidence, and quell negative self-talk. 
… Therapist’s orders. 
Being the ever-so-capable superhero you are, today you got blasted by some hypnotizing ray. And then promptly went on a murderous rampage on your teammates. 
You don’t recall anything that happened, only waking up from what felt like a deep sleep to the outstretched hand of Nightwing. Koriand’r told you on the way back to the Tower that you almost killed him – making you stiffen in horror. You almost killed him, and apparently the only thing he had been worried about was you. At the thought, you feel heat swarm in your cheeks.
Despite not having any powers, Nightwing is plenty formidable. You were in complete awe of him today; the way he moves is so effortless, and he’s not even a metahuman. 
You clench your fist with determination. You aren’t a metahuman either, but you pale in comparison to him. You want to be just as formidable as he is. Be just as deserving of the title “Titan.”
On the subject of Nightwing, your mind wanders… He had been quite… hands-on with you today. Shaking you by the shoulders, hand on your cheeks lightly slapping you awake. Encouraging you back to your feet, hand brushing your waist. When the battle was over, you nearly collapsed to your knees, spent. But he caught you, appearing from out of nowhere. 
“Easy,” he had said into your ear, which made you shiver. 
You sigh. 
Okay. So maybe you had a crush. It wasn’t like you were going to do anything about it. He’s your boss – the Titans’ illustrious captain. He was simply helping you along, watching out for a teammate. Mentoring a new hero. After all, you are the Titans’ newest recruit, a post that months later still feels unreal. 
You walk amongst them through the doors of the Tower, conversation and chatter flowing around you. You don’t join in, still ashamed from today’s blunder. How many of them had you tried to hurt? The team has just finished a mission, and it seems a pizza party is in order for tonight. You smile gingerly as Garfield announces vibrantly that you’re invited. (A no-brainer to anyone else since you literally live here, but to you, it means a lot.)
Your secret identity known to the team, you dismiss yourself to change out of your suit and into your civvies. “Hurry back soon,” they say, and the sentiment warms you. You indeed jog to your bedroom, eager to return to the festivities. You’re one of them. You’re really one of them.
You slip into your room, tossing the door back without a second glance. Your fingers pull on the bottom of your shirt. You’re about to peel off your suit, when you hear a shallow thud. That was not the sound your door makes once it's been closed. 
You whip around, and see–
“Nightwing?”
Your leader stands in the doorway, foot acting as an impromptu door stopper. You take him in. His hair cascades in gentle dark waves, curling by the ears. If you didn’t know better, you’d think his suit was painted on. Despite being lightly armored and fortified, it stretches across his body like plastic wrap. You could trace every muscle under his skin– okay, relax. Christ. 
Hey, you think back, mentally wagging a finger. No thought policing.
At the sound of your name being called, you realize you’ve been gawking like an idiot while he stands in your doorframe. You straighten.
“Oh! Y-yes!?”
“Can I come in?” he asks. You nod so fervently that your head is a blur of color.
Nightwing does so, the slightest amicable smile on his lips. Around friends and allies, it seems to be a default expression of his. Still, you’ve spent enough time around him to note that he looks quite… serious. Concerned.
“... Is there anything I can do for you?” you ask, eager to rectify whatever was upsetting him. You so want to impress him. Badly. 
He holds up his hands, as if saying, At ease. “All you can do for me is let me know that you’re alright.”  
You offer a pitiable smile, warmth swirling in your chest. “I am. Thanks for asking– and I’m so, so sorry about today–” 
Nightwing waves you off, approaching you. He places a hand on your shoulder in consolation. “Hey, it could’ve–”
“--Happened to anyone,” you finish, nodding. You look down.
“... Although I admit…” 
Your head snaps to attention. “Yes?”
Nightwing then sighs. His gaze falls to the floor. He tuts and shakes his head as if troubled. You swallow drily. So focused on him, you don’t even notice the circles his thumb kneads into your shoulder.
“Your performance today.” Your throat clenches. Nightwing’s gaze returns to you, hard and critical behind his mask. “Well, frankly, it left much to be desired.”
Your heart plummets, hitting the pit of your stomach. You’re mortified. You haven’t been meeting his standards? Did everyone else think that? Were their hopes misplaced? You feel the thrum of anxiety jitter underneath your skin as you bow your head. Your gaze now captures the two feet keeping you upright.
There’s a stroke to your cheek, to which you flinch. 
“Hey.” Your head whips up. You look up at him, into white lenses that have the ghost of his eyes behind them. “It’s okay. I’m here to help.” 
His face is gentle and consoling. You exhale. He’s just being honest, you think. He’s just being honest. Nothing wrong with some constructive criticism. You let him sit you down on the edge of your bed.
“H-how can I improve?” you ask, voice croaking. “I know I fucked up today. I should’ve seen it coming. I’m so, so sorry if I hurt you or anybody else–”
“Hey,” he says again, soft and delicately. “Listen, it’s alright. I’m going to teach you some things. How to resist better.” 
You nod, slowly, anticipating some verbal advice. 
You watch him with anticipation, giving him your full attention– and then, he kneels before you. You instinctively feel alarm at the increased proximity, before you swat it down. His head is level with your lower abdomen, uncomfortably close to your lap. You don’t have to make it weird, you scoff at yourself.
“... Y-yes?” you say. 
“I’m going to take off your pants.”
You stare. 
Did you hear him right? Was he… joking? 
Clearly not. His hands land on your thighs, effectively drawing a sharp inhale from you. You both lock eyes. His face still holds the same vaguely amicable grin, but it’s now a leer. Your heart quickens. You don’t feel right. 
“... Nightwing?” you ask, feeling suddenly quite small. You don’t know what���s happening. What’s going on?
“You need to be able to withstand a lot more than you currently can,” he continues, talking as casually as if you’re speaking about the weather. You are shell shocked, frozen into submission at the touch of his hands pulling your pants off. His nails scrape along your skin when he has to use more force to jerk it free from under your ass, to which you still don’t react. 
What’s going on? your mind cycles on loop.
It’s when he pulls down your underwear you finally jolt, clumsily kicking at him. Which he catches of course. What a poor move, because your kick only enables him to spread your legs at his leisure. Heat rages to your cheeks. Though not entirely off, your panties do a pitiful job of concealing the tangle of hair nestled between your thighs. The mortification racing through your bloodstream makes you croak. It makes you keep throwing kicks and swats and punches until Nightwing is forced to sandwich your body against your bed. He pins your hands down to the bed, and you know by now it’s a lost cause.
“Help–” you begin, but Nightwing adeptly slips your wrists into one hand, and uses the other to silence you. He smiles bashfully, as if he hadn’t just stripped you without consent or fanfare.
“This is all for you–” At the furrow of your brow, he says, indignantly, “I’m serious! How easy was it for that guy to hypnotize you today?” The question throws a knife into your heart. “Or when last week you were apprehended? Or the week before that?” Each instance makes the burning building in your eyes more and more unbearable. He isn't wrong. Your tears build. He’s not wrong.
Nightwing slowly removes his hand off your mouth, anticipating another yell. You squirm, but don’t make a sound aside from shuddering breaths. 
His grin loses all its flirty qualities. It widens, self-satisfied and predatory. With his teeth he peels off his free hand’s glove, slides it down your torso to the apex between your thighs.
“No,” you whimper, to which he hushes you, lips by the shell of your ear for the second time today. His fingers explore without warning, tracing your labia and brushing against your clit. You gasp, but you don’t scream.
Nightwing tuts, shaking his head. “You’re already wet, I see.”
You tremble, filled with humiliation. “No, I’m not.” One digit delves deeper, experimentally. You grit your teeth.
“You want this,” he says, and you fill with dread at the condescension of his tone. Like this was expected. Like you had so much to learn.
“No, I don’t.”
“But you do. You’re telling me you do.” His fingers – the pair that when gloved, there would’ve been two cobalt blue stripes – scissor inside you, and your breath hitches. “Your body’s telling me you do.”
“I-it’s a biological response.” At the feeling of his fingers swimming inside you, you whimper. This is insane. It can’t be happening. Yet you jerk and twitch with each of his motions. “P-please, I would… Please stop, now…” He doesn’t, pumping his sinful fingers into you. Teases you by dragging them out. 
You throw your head back, biting your lip. He’s panting into your ear – you’d think you were doing something to him, the way he sounds. Your overhead light beams into your gaze, dizzying. It burns, so you close your eyes, hoping this is some humiliating dream. This can’t be real. This can’t be real.
“So you say– Hey.” He nips at your ear and you stir. “Look at me. Look at me.” You do so, and find him staring up at you. His mask is not enough of a barrier. Even if you can’t see them, you know his eyes are scraping over you, peeling your skin back, seeing you whole. Your embarrassment, your weakness, your shame.
“Please stop,” you whisper, eyes stinging. Your thighs tremble, to which he places his free hand on them to steady them. This is wrong. He shouldn’t be doing this. You’re teammates. He’s your captain. 
Nightwing sighs, looking disappointed. Oh no, your mind spirals. He’s disappointed in you. Despite you being desperately uncomfortable– violated– he’s at fault– he’s the one doing something wrong– 
Despite your logical brain asserting itself, you are flooded with a tidal wave of anxiety.
“That’s not good, you know,” he says, and he looks mournful. “Whining is just what they want to hear.” His fingers disappear from your body, and their absence leaves you in shock. Wanting.
Wanting? Do I want this? you think.
Nightwing is reaching behind his neck, tugging and pulling. Before you know it, he’s bare-chested. You don’t marvel at his body, like you would have just an hour before.
“Bad guys aren’t going to listen to you just because you beg.” A tear slips down your face. You swipe at it, but not quick enough for him to miss it. “And they won’t care if you cry… Maybe you don’t need to learn how to resist. You’re not cut out for it, I think,” he tsks. “Maybe, you need to learn how to endure.”
You feel something blunt and wet prod at your entrance, and that’s when the last remains of your primal fight-or-flight instincts kick in. You start to squirm, back arching off the bed. “Please, please, please– no– stop– I don’t want this–” His hand clamps down on your mouth once more, and hard. You push him with all your might, but it’s not enough. You aren’t strong enough.
“Just the tip,” he whispers in the shell of your ear. Just the tip. You can handle at least that. Just the tip.
He repeats it for himself, not you. This you realize as he enters anyway, despite your teary complaints. It is not just the tip; he bottoms out. “You can handle this. I know you can.” 
You’re so confused. You’re so, so confused. You merely clench your eyes shut, nodding at his encouragement. You don’t know what else to do. 
“I know, I know,” he comforts. “Don’t worry, you’re taking it really well. You take it perfect.” You cling onto his words of reassurance, no matter how twisted it feels. It’s the only anchor you’ve got. Each thrust makes you see stars behind your eyelids, bed rocking. The ding of your bed frame hitting the wall is enough to make you finally quiet. The last thing you want is for the others to hear. To walk in and see you utterly helpless. Powerless. Incapable. 
You swallow your sobs, but let the tears stream freely.
“It’d be better if I just got you pregnant right now.”
You feel a cold knife of fear pierce your chest. He can’t. He can’t. You wouldn’t be able to be a hero anymore. 
“You’d be better suited for it,” he hums. You can tell he’s near, his hips snapping more frenetically, his words cut off with his own moans. You’re ashamed to admit moans of your own may have slipped out. You don’t even bother resisting at this point, hoping that if not your strength, then your body can satisfy him. Hoping at least that your body will meet his standards.
“Fuck,” you hear, and not a moment later you feel him shoot ropes of cum into your cunt. You can feel both his cock that throbs with each spray and the warmth spreading into you. You don’t know why you’re shocked at the sensation – it wasn’t as if he seemed keen on using a condom. Nightwing’s hands release you, having gripped you so hard you’re sure you’ve bruised.
He dots sweet kisses along your neck, your collarbone, your cheek. It should be all very sweet, but you can't ignore the poison of the circumstance. “You did so good, you did perfect,” are amongst the accolades he whispers into your clammy skin. You nod weakly, letting him kiss your tears away.
Nightwing dives in for a kiss, desperate to take even more than you’ve already given him. You return it, heart palpitating. You bat away the negative thoughts that threaten to swarm your mind whole. No more negative self-talk, after all. No self-deprecation. It’s okay. You took it well. You endured, like he said.
You did perfect.
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ghcstao3 · 8 months ago
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streamer bfs ghost and soap
ghost who does faceless, minimal talking gaming streams. sometimes watch parties if there’s something interesting (and non-copyrightable). who at most has maybe a couple hundred viewers, but even then that’s a rare number. and who only ever raids soap because duh.
then his viewers being in for a surprise, expecting more quiet, only to be met with a very talkative soap, who usually has a million and one things going on but somehow manages to make it work. who will do drawing streams or gaming or cooking or just about anything requested of him (within reason). who sometimes has a mysterious figure in the background of his face-cam but seldom acknowledges it, even on the rare occasion that said figure wanders up and wraps their arms around soap’s shoulders, face remaining carefully out of frame.
and despite soap garnering a larger following, he almost always only raids ghost, too. and while they’ve never stated anything explicit, haven’t even really acknowledged one another on stream beyond a just sending you guys over—the viewers speculate. whether they’re friends, dating, if it’s just a coincidence. it’s fun.
idk. just streamer au ghoap :)
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super-ultra-mega-deluxe · 9 days ago
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Despite now being the obvious time to criticize the Democrats in light of their obvious recent electoral failure, the vote blue no matter who diehards have redoubled their position that Harris and the Democrats represented a moderate, reasonable genocide, while Trump and the republicans represent an excessive, non-counterable genocide. This is a very blatantly idiotic, condescending, and generally insulting line of reasoning which deliberately ignores the objectives of the bourgeois of the US in pursuing a policy of genocide. There's also a particular bit of chauvinism about it, an implicit- and sometimes explicit- statement that the US military is omnipotent and infinitely capable of rendering anything anywhere to rubble and it is only by the good graces of this or that party in power that they refrain from doing so to every corner of the earth. This is also obviously incorrect; of the multitudinous genocidal conflicts the US has been party to since WWII, only a fraction have resulted in a strategic victory for the US. Palestine will be free in the near future, and it will not be because of the Democrats or the Republicans or any of their supporters, it will be because of the resistance of Palestinians.
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kingofbodyrolls · 9 months ago
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Say I Do (m) | jjk
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Summary: you and Jungkook tease each other at your wedding reception.
Pairing: jungkook x female reader (no Y/N and unnamed)
AUs: non-idol!au, wedding!au
Genres: smut– like it’s just smut, nothing else 🤣
Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!
Word count: 5,2k
Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
Warnings/tag: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex, handjob, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, slightly rough sex, choking, biting, spitting, ass grabbing, impreg kink, degrading names (whore used once).
Author’s note: I made this for my lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7)!!!! SURPRISE!!!! I hope you like it! I was inspired to make this because of our chat, and I just want to say that you are so fucking lovely, sweet and kind 💖 I really hope this isn’t too much, but I just had too 🥹 I really wanted to make it dirty, but it ended up being more sweet instead, I’m sorry! I love talking to you and I just wanted to let you know that I adore and treasure you 😘 
Honestly Lua, I just wrote this to tell you how beautiful you are– mind, body and soul. Thank you Lua, I love ya 💜
This is just something very short while I work on ‘My Heart’s Home’. But I hope you like it, and please let me know what you think: my inbox is always open, and I love to hear from you, even a reblog/comment will put a big smile on my face 💜
Also!!! This is written from Jungkook’s POV (well I tried, lol). And normally I don’t describe the reader/MC, but she does have a tiny bit description in this, but I still feel it’s vague enough. But if that isn’t your thing, it’s completely fine 🙂 This is not proofread (because I’m too lazy for that right now).
This has nothing to do with my other fic 'say that again (I dare you)', but if you want to read that I'm not opposed (it's also a jjk fic) ✨
Fancy reading on AO3? 😉 
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Rising gracefully to his feet, Taehyung's infectious enthusiasm fills the room as he declares, “I propose a toast!” His radiant smile sweeps over the myriad of guests you meticulously invited to your wedding—more than a hundred souls sharing in the joy of your love story. 
As he prepares to speak, Jungkook can't help but marvel at the grandeur of the occasion. Despite his personal inclination towards a more intimate celebration, he wouldn't dream of denying you this moment, surrounded by the warmth of friends and family who have come together to witness the union of two hearts.
Despite Taehyung's earnest attempt to capture Jungkook's attention with a throat-clearing preamble, Jungkook finds himself inexplicably entranced elsewhere. Even in the midst of one of his closest friends delivering a heartfelt wedding speech—something he should be wholeheartedly absorbing—but it’s hard. As hard as his dick that you’re palming over his dress pants.
The tantalizing dance of your hand sends ripples of pleasure through him, an intoxicating distraction that eclipses all other thoughts. It's an artful symphony of sensation, each movement crafting a masterpiece of desire within him. The struggle to concentrate on anything else becomes an exhilarating battle. Fuck. 
You, the mischievous enchantress, wield your allure like a potent spell. 
A tantalizing awareness of your own danger courses through your veins, and you wield it with an expert finesse. Every knowing glance, every sly smile, is a calculated move in the game you effortlessly play. You've mastered the art of ensnaring him, wrapping him around your finger with a magnetic force that compels him to dance to your whims. It's a dangerous dance, but he willingly succumbs to the intoxication of your charm, embracing the thrill as much as he cherishes the intoxicating love he feels for you.
What the fuck is Taehyung saying?
Taehyung’s words dissolve into a meaningless buzz, drowned out by the illicit symphony you're orchestrating beneath the table. The audacious zipper sliding down and the tantalizing exploration of your hand over the fabric of his boxer briefs command all of Jungkook's attention.
Profanity trembles on the edge of his tongue, but it's lost in the overwhelming sensation that eclipses any coherent thought. Your stealthy touch renders him blissfully oblivious to everything else unfolding around him.
Suppressing a low, guttural sound, he clenches his teeth, using every ounce of willpower to stifle the moan building in his throat. As desire courses through him like a wildfire, he willingly parts his legs, a silent invitation for you to explore more boldly, granting ample space for the electrifying touch of your hand over the hardened length of his cock.
He marvels at your audacity, finding it both exhilarating and daring that you'd embark on such a provocative escapade during your wedding reception. Yet, deep down, he acknowledges that it's a reflection of the wild spirit that has always defined your relationship. It's a shared affinity for dancing on the edge, reveling in the allure of danger, and delighting in the thrill of engaging in activities that should, by all accounts, remain private. It's a facet of your relationship that has always been magnetic, drawing you both into a world where the risk of being caught only adds to the intoxicating excitement.
In the blink of an eye, your hand deftly maneuvers beneath the fabric of his boxers, sending a shiver down his spine. A hiss escapes his lips as your long, slender fingers confidently envelop his cock. The warmth of your touch is both a balm and an inferno, and he instinctively tilts his head back in the chair, a silent plea for discretion. 
As he surrenders to the delicious sensation, he can't help but cast a furtive glance around, fervently hoping that the clandestine ballet unfolding beneath the table remains a tantalizing secret shared only between you.
Despite the uproarious laughter echoing through the room in response to Taehyung's speech, Jungkook remains oblivious to its contents, ensnared the choreography of your hand beneath the table. 
The mirthful ambiance only fuels his curiosity, surmising that Taehyung must have delivered a punchline or shared a humorous anecdote. Meanwhile, beneath the table's concealment, your hand skillfully traces a tantalizing path along his hardened cock, drawing a hushed hiss from Jungkook's lips. 
With a steely resolve, he masks any trace of emotion, locking his features in a stoic facade and maintaining an impressive silence. His determined effort is not just to conceal the electrifying sensations your actions are evoking, but also to safeguard the clandestine intimacy you both share from the prying eyes of the unsuspecting guests. 
Every fiber of his being is a coiled spring, resisting the urge to yield to the pleasure that threatens to unravel beneath the veneer of his restrained expression. 
As his gaze shifts towards you, he's met with an unexpected sight—there you sit, an image of demure elegance in your exquisite white gown. 
The fabric caresses your curves in all the right places, accentuating the allure of your figure. The daringly low neckline teases a glimpse of the captivating silhouette of your bosom, leaving him momentarily breathless. The off-the-shoulder design unveils a generous expanse of your soft, tender skin, a tantalizing sight that aligns perfectly with his preferences. 
Despite the provocative allure of your attire, your outward appearance betrays no hint of the illicit affair transpiring beneath the table. If he didn't intimately know the secret you were concealing—your hand discreetly exploring the realm beneath his pants—he'd be fooled by the serene facade you present, seemingly absorbed in the captivating rhythm of Taehyung's speech.
In a silent plea of gratitude, Jungkook revels in the fact that the attention of the guests is fixed on Taehyung's speech, sparing him the scrutiny of prying eyes. 
Little do they know, the real spectacle unfolds beneath the table, where your touch becomes an exquisite torment. 
Every movement of your hand is a tantalizing dance, a blend of ecstasy and torture that threatens to unravel him. With a teasing finesse, your soft fingers caress his frenulum, tracing a path towards the depths of pleasure. The deliberate slide over his slit elicits a shiver of pure ecstasy, leaving Jungkook teetering on the precipice of desire that you expertly navigate.
Your hand envelops him, a cocoon of warmth that intensifies with each skillful stroke. The pleasure coursing through him is undeniably exquisite, a testament to the mastery of your touch. Yet, a lingering awareness tugs at the edges of his consciousness—an impending climax that threatens to unravel the careful threads of restraint. The exquisite sensations you evoke compel him to desperately anchor his thoughts, to redirect the intoxicating focus from the captivating dance beneath the table to Taehyung's speech.
The challenge lies not just in resisting the magnetic pull of pleasure but in maintaining a semblance of composure, navigating the delicate balance between the ecstasy you're orchestrating beneath the table and the public façade demanded by the occasion.
“We’ve been friends for so long, how many years is it now, Gguk?” As Taehyung poses the question, a hushed anticipation envelops the room, and all eyes converge on Jungkook. 
Fuck. 
All eyes are on him and he can’t think— he’s mind is clouded with thoughts of you. 
Taehyung– Fuck. How long have they been friends? 
In a sudden stumble of recollection, he breathes out, “17 years,” the weight of the shared history resonating in the room. Yet, the gravity of the moment is unexpectedly intensified as you administer an assertive squeeze around cock. Fuck.
With a chuckle that slices through the tension, Taehyung seamlessly continues his discourse, effortlessly reclaiming the attention of the room and redirecting every wandering gaze back to him. A collective exhale echoes in Jungkook's mind, a silent gratitude for the timely diversion that spares the clandestine spectacle beneath the table from becoming the unwitting center of attention. 
Relentless, you maintain the rhythm on his dick, displaying an unwavering determination that hints at an intention to push him to the brink, right under the unsuspecting gaze of the gathered guests. 
As the divine caress of your hand propels him perilously close to the edge, a surge of urgency overtakes him. Desperate, he turns his face towards you, eyes silently pleading for respite, but your gaze remains steadfastly elsewhere. 
Frustration wells within him, and he attempts to use his hands to guide yours away, only to find your grip tightening in response. The conflicting forces of pleasure and restraint collide within him, his muscles tensing as a hitch in his breath betrays the precarious precipice upon which he teeters.
Leaning in, you bring with you a halo of your natural sweet scent, an intoxicating allure that wraps around him, overwhelming his senses and leaving him slightly dizzy. 
Your lips, soft and plush, delicately find his cheek in what appears to be a tender gesture to the outside world. To the unsuspecting onlookers, it's a simple, sweet kiss on the cheek. 
Little do they know, in that same moment, your daring move involves not just the gentle press of your lips but the subtle exploration of your other hand slipping under his boxers to fondle his balls.
Fucking hell he’s gonna come.
Ecstasy courses through him like a wildfire, an imminent eruption fueled by the intoxicating cocktail of your skillful touch on his balls, warm breath teasing his ear, and the relentless grip on his pulsating desire. The threshold between pleasure and release narrows to a perilous edge, and he finds himself teetering on the brink, held captive by the maddening symphony of sensations you've orchestrated. 
Despite his valiant efforts to remain attentive to his friend's speech, the sheer mastery of your pleasure-inducing touch proves insurmountable. Every deliberate stroke, every strategic squeeze of his balls, propels him further into the abyss of ecstasy. In a moment of surrender, he can no longer contain the torrent of desire, and ropes of his essence surge forth from his throbbing dick. His lips bear the weight of a stifled moan, as you keep stroking him through his orgasm.
Beside him, your chuckle is a symphony of sweetness interwoven with a hint of mischief, a melodic backdrop to the ongoing crescendo of pleasure you expertly administer through his orgasm. 
As he traverses the realm of oversensitivity, a low, guttural grunt escapes him, drawing the curious gaze of Taehyung, engrossed in his ongoing speech. Though momentarily caught in a gaze of questioning inquiry, Taehyung forges ahead, resuming his speech with a peculiar stare, unwittingly oblivious to the spectacle unfolding beside him.
Thank fuck both of your parents aren’t seated right next to you. That would have been utterly mortifying and embarrassing.
With a deliberate finesse, you retract your hand from his crotch, guiding it gracefully over the table, where you nonchalantly employ a napkin to erase any lingering evidence. Seated there, you adopt an innocent facade, a picture of angelic composure that conceals the fact that, mere seconds ago, your hand delved into the forbidden realm beneath his pants. 
With an audible exhale, he reaches for a napkin, hastily attending to the aftermath on his pants. The damage is fortunately minimal, thanks to your deft intervention that efficiently captured most of his release. Smart girl.
But a mischievous spark ignites in his eyes, a silent vow echoing beneath the surface - oh, he's going to get back at you for that, you little minx. 
As the notes of the classic wedding waltz envelop the room, Jungkook marvels at the surreal reality—he gets to call you his wife now. The ethereal glow surrounding you transcends the physical, a radiant aura that has always defined you. Despite your humble protestations about your own beauty, he's captivated by the undeniable truth: you've always been, and continue to be, an enchanting vision. Countless times you've confessed to feeling otherwise, but in his eyes, you're a masterpiece. In this moment, as you dance together, you're not just a part of his world; you are his entire universe.
Gazing into the pools of your sweet, doe-like eyes, their exquisite almond shape captivates him, holding his attention in an unbreakable trance. He contemplates the nuances of your beauty, from the enchanting curvature of your slightly upturned nose to the endearing moments when he can't resist playfully poking it during your teasing exchanges. Every inch of you, in his eyes, is a masterpiece, and he pledges to vocalize his admiration every day, a ritual aimed at etching your beauty into your own consciousness. 
He dreams that with each affirming word, he'll weave a tapestry of self-love around you, until the day you see yourself as he does—undeniably, breathtakingly beautiful.
As you dance, your eyes ablaze with an unmistakable love, he luxuriates in the intensity of your gaze. A daring current of desire propels his hand, gliding with deliberate intent down your body until it boldly claims your ass. 
Uninhibited, he seizes it with audacious confidence, the bold move oblivious to the watchful eyes surrounding you. A soft, mischievous squeeze elicits a sweet chuckle from you, a harmonious note in the symphony of shared amusement that reverberates through the party, as the crowd collectively succumbs to the captivating allure of your uninhibited dance.
As the soft strains of the music envelop you both in a waltz, your heads draw nearer, the enchanting melody echoing the tender dance of your hearts. With the song nearing its end, he seizes the moment, leaning in intimately close to your ear. The hushed promise that escapes his lips carries a tantalizing undercurrent, his warm breath grazing your skin as he vows, “I'm going to get you back for earlier, babe.”
He senses the subtle shiver coursing through you as his touch lingers, a silent testament to the shared electricity between you. As the final notes of the song fade into the applause and cheers of the crowd, seizing the perfect moment, he leans in, embracing you in a sweet and passionate kiss. 
As the rhythm of a more upbeat song invigorates the dance floor, he seizes the opportunity to whisk you away from the lively crowd. Amidst the pulsating beats and the vivacious laughter of the guests, he guides you outside the building, their merriment gradually fading into the background.
In the crisp night air, he asserts a sudden dominance, pressing you against the sturdy wall. His gaze, infused with an unmistakable hunger and need, locks onto your beautiful eyes, creating a magnetic tension that reverberates between you. 
“You are a little minx, you know that?” His words, not laced with anger but rather a dangerous undercurrent of arousal, hang in the charged air. Your chuckle, a sweet symphony that further stirs the tempest within him, prompts a hiss as he succumbs to the magnetic pull, diving fervently into the captivating abyss of your mouth.
The kiss intensifies, a collision of passion that is both hard and rough, fueled by an undeniable need. In the urgency of the moment, he can't afford to wait, the impatience palpable in every fervent press of lips. 
You envelop him in the embrace of your arms, fingers intertwining at the nape of his neck, while your gaze rises to meet his. In the depths of his eyes, once warm brown orbs now transformed into pools of near-black intensity, a reflection of the potent arousal coursing through his veins. 
Your hand embarks on a daring journey, descending to the front of his pants once more, and the response is instantaneous – hardness reignites, a testament to the insatiable flame you kindle within him. Desire for you pulses like a constant current, an almost permanent state of arousal that defies logical explanation. Whatever enchantment you cast upon him, it's an irresistible force that weaves a tantalizing spell, leaving him perpetually captivated by the mystique of your touch.
Breaking away from the embrace of your soft lips, he wears a smirk laden with both warning and allure. “You're playing with fire, babe,” he remarks, the subtle edge in his voice echoing the intoxicating dance of danger and desire that swirls between you.
In a hushed whisper that flutters against your ear, he breathes, “You've been a naughty girl.” 
The words, laden with an undercurrent of sultry authority, send a shiver down your spine, awakening a cascade of tingles that traverse the landscape of your entire body. 
Descending to the delicate expanse of your neck, he peppers it with soft, almost teasing kisses, each touch a prelude to the symphony of sensations. Then, in an abrupt shift from gentle caresses, he bites down, coaxing from you a loud moan that resonates through the air—an intoxicating sound that echoes in the depths of his desire, a melody he'll never tire of hearing. 
Continuing his explorative journey, he ventures further south, his lips descending to the curve of your breasts. With a deliberate tenderness, he places a kiss atop the soft expanse of your tender tits.
Gracefully sinking to his knees, he gazes up at you with a mischievous smirk, the air thick with a heady mixture of desire and anticipation. His tongue darts out, grazing his lips in a provocative dance of anticipation, signaling the imminent exploration of pleasures yet to unfold. 
With an assertive grip, he seizes the front of your dress, drawing it away in a swift, purposeful motion. Despite the abundance of fabric, he deftly bunches it up with ease. “Hold your dress, please,” he directs, handing you the end of the gathered fabric. 
“Hmm. Nice lace stockings, and that girdle—what are you doing to me?” he murmurs, his voice a tantalizing blend of desire and fascination. His gaze lingers appreciatively on your beautiful thighs encased in nude stockings adorned with lace at the top, fastened to a concealed girdle on your waist.
His eyes widen with a mix of surprise and arousal as they land on your wet and glistening pussy, the evidence of desire trickling down your thigh. “Oh my god. You're not wearing panties?” he breathes out, his voice carrying the weight of both revelation and anticipation. A subtle lick of his lips betrays the intensity of his reaction.
A playful chuckle escapes your lips as you hover above him, and without a moment's hesitation, he immerses himself in the intoxicating warmth of your desire. His lips eagerly find their destination, tracing a decadent path from the delicate folds to the pulsating essence of your clit. 
The sensation ripples through your body, igniting a shiver that becomes an involuntary response to the electrifying dance between tongues, pleasure, and the shared yearning that binds you together.
He embarks on a tantalizing journey of tongue and suction, starting with teasing caresses that send tremors of anticipation through your body. His hands, strong and purposeful, find purchase on your thighs, holding you in a firm grip as he orchestrates a symphony of pleasure with his skillful tongue, creating an intoxicating dance that blurs the lines between sensation and desire.
A throaty moan escapes your lips as his nose delicately brushes against your pulsating cl*t, his tongue delving as deep as its voracious hunger allows. The exquisite sensation of his exploration elicits an involuntary clenching around him, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.
Your thighs, unable to withstand the intensity, succumb to a tremor, trembling beneath the intoxicating caress of pleasure that consumes you.
His dexterous fingers ascend to your throbbing clit, and with a skillful touch, he sets in motion a rapid dance of pleasure, causing your entire body to quiver with newfound intensity. The quickened rhythm of your breath becomes a symphony of desire, a telltale sign for him that you're teetering on the precipice of ecstasy.
Eager to reciprocate the pleasure you bestowed upon him within the confines of the reception, he fervently laps at your tender folds. Simultaneously, his fingers engage in a deft dance around your throbbing clit, orchestrating a symphony of sensations that echoes the pulsating rhythm of desire between you.
With the harmonious fusion of his skilled tongue and nimble fingers, he orchestrates the unraveling of your senses. As ecstasy courses through you, your body convulses in euphoria, your walls clenching around his tongue, and the pulsating rhythm of your clit intensifying under the spell of his fingers. 
Waves of pleasure surge through you, causing your body to quake, and in the throes of ecstasy, you release a high-pitched, strained moan that bears his name—an intimate symphony of pleasure that lingers in the air.
Breathless and overwhelmed, you gasp out his name, a plea woven into the words, “Fuck, Jungkook. I can't stand up anymore.” As he gracefully withdraws from your core, his gaze rises to meet yours, locking in a shared moment of intensity.
He chuckles, the rich timbre of his laughter lingering in the charged air. “I know, babe. Do you want me to fuck you against the wall?”
You draw in a sharp breath, and he keenly observes the subtle clench of your hand, the fabric of the dress tightly gathered within your grasp. 
“Fuck yeah,” An unbridled affirmation escapes your lips, a primal declaration of desire. As he rises to his feet, a surge of urgency propels him to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss. The taste of your own release lingers on his lips, creating an intimate communion of shared pleasure that binds you together in the aftermath of passion.
As he engulfs you in a fervent kiss, the symphony of desire playing out between you, his hands deftly navigate the zipper of his dress pants. With a purposeful movement, he unveils his throbbing cock, stroking it in rhythmic cadence. 
His hands, driven by a primal urgency, seek out the contours of your a*s with a possessive intent. “Jump up, babe,” he commands, the resonance of his voice weaving a spell of anticipation. As you obediently jump, he effortlessly lifts you, cocooning you against the wall. 
In a brief struggle against the bulk of your dress, both of you grapple with the fabric, pushing it away from the front of your entwined bodies. A shared chuckle hangs in the air, a lighthearted interlude in the midst of fervor. But as the fabric yields to your efforts, Jungkook seizes the opportunity, moving in with an insatiable hunger to bite at your neck once more. 
With a sultry whisper, he breathes, “I'm gonna fuck a baby into you, would you like that, hmm?” 
The words, pregnant with promise, glide against your ear, and the responsive clench of your legs around his waist speaks volumes. A knowing chuckle escapes him as you endeavor to pull him even closer, the shared desire resonating between you in the charged space.
“Please,” your plea, a desperate yet fervent entreaty, escapes your lips, a poignant melody of desire that resonates in the charged air. The subtle smirk that graces his lips is both a testament to your undeniable need for him and an acknowledgment of the power he holds over your cravings.
With a deliberate touch, he locates his throbbing cock with one hand and skillfully aligns it with your dripping entrance. The tantalizing dance begins as he teases your slick folds with the head of his pulsating dick, creating an electrifying friction that amplifies the anticipation between you two. 
“Gguk, please,” you plead with a mixture of desire and frustration, your voice echoing the urgent need for him to bridge the gap between anticipation and fulfillment. However, he remains steadfast, skillfully teasing your slick folds without granting the entry your body craves. 
With a desperate plea escaping your lips once more, he finally relents. The moment stretches with anticipation before he forcefully thrusts his thick cock into your eager pussy. The collision is met with an audible impact as your back forcefully meets the wall.
He forgoes the customary pause for adjustment, intuitively aware that you relish the exquisite stretch when he enters you so abruptly. Without hesitation, he plunges deep into your core, reaching the furthest recesses, his thick length grazing against your cervix. 
“You’re so big, the stretch feels so good!” 
You gasp breathlessly against his body, overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. The intoxicating stretch sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, a visceral reminder of the intensity between you two. Determined to fully immerse yourself in the sensation, you pant against him, actively striving to ride the wave of pleasure, desperate to fuck yourself on him, the relentless pursuit of ecstasy evident in every ardent movement.
He establishes a relentless rhythm, driving into you with a force that resonates against the unyielding wall of the building. The symphony of your combined panting echoes in the air, a melodic accompaniment to the unbridled passion unfolding. Jungkook, captivated by the primal symphony, savors every delightful noise escaping your lips—a harmonious blend of desire and surrender, heightening the intensity of the fervent connection shared between you.
As he thrusts into you, each powerful motion striking your cervix, he elevates the intensity by trailing one hand up to your neck. With a gentle yet possessive touch, he wraps his fingers around your throat.
He knows you like it dirty and rough, and fuck he does too. 
His taunting words, laced with a playful yet provocative tone, cut through the charged air. “Did you enjoy the little game with your fingers down my pants while Tae was making his speech?” The rhetorical question hangs between you, a teasing challenge that elicits a subtle clenching reaction around him. 
In a sultry revelation, he whispers, “'Next to your bridesmaid and your parents. You naughty girl.” The hand steadying against the wall takes a firm hold of your ass, squeezing the soft flesh with deliberate intent. A resonant moan of pleasure escapes your lips, harmonizing with the rhythmic cadence of his thrusts as he skillfully targets your sweet spot. 
“So naughty,” he breathes, punctuating each fervent thrust with a rhythmic intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “You enjoy getting off in front of your friends, huh?” His words, infused with a seductive blend of desire and provocation, become a tantalizing soundtrack to the relentless grind of his dick into you.
“And getting me off too? Whore,” he seethes into your ear, the heated accusation leaving a scorching trail of desire in its wake. Your response, a shiver against his body, fuels the intensity of the moment. 
As he continues to fuck you with an unrestrained force, your breasts bounce in a mesmerizing rhythm that captivates him. So fucking perfect.
“Stick your tongue out,” he commands, his eyes intently fixed on you as you obediently roll out your tongue, anticipating the act you relish. The charged moment lingers, pregnant with expectation. With a deliberate move, he spits on your waiting tongue, and you, the embodiment of submission, dutifully swallow it.
Damn it, he knows he won't last much longer if he continues to be entranced by the rhythmic bounce of your enticing breasts—they possess an almost hypnotic allure over him. And that tongue of yours, oh, it's pure seduction. 
“And you can't even wait until we reach our hotel suite to be fucked. So fucking needy, and I love it,” he declares, a blend of admiration and desire lacing his words. The deliberate clench of his fingers around your throat follows, a subtle yet potent assertion of control. His gaze remains fixed on your eyes, watching with a predatory intensity as they dilate even more.
As he tightens his grip, the sensation of his fingers constricting around your throat elicits a primal response—your walls clenching around his cock. The synchronized symphony of pleasure and control intertwines, and a guttural groan escapes him, an audible testament to the ecstasy coursing through his veins. 
Driven by an insatiable desire, he redoubles his efforts to fuck you even deeper.
“My filthy wife,” he pants into your ear, the possessive term dripping with desire, a declaration that ignites a primal response within you. The sultry proclamation elicits a moan of his name from your lips, a vocal affirmation of the all-encompassing pleasure coursing through your body. His acute awareness of your nearing climax manifests in the rhythmic clenching around his dick, a tangible sign of the intimate dance between you two.
“Fuck, Gguk. I'm so close again. Fuck!” you pant fervently against the curve of his neck, the words laced with desperation and desire. He senses the mounting intensity in your voice, a symphony of passion reaching its crescendo. 
Yet, he's attuned to the nuances, recognizing the subtle signs that your body, though on the brink of ecstasy, bears the weight of fatigue, having navigated the day in those tantalizing heels. 
“You crave an audience, don't you? Want people to watch you, to hear you,” he moans into your ear, the words a sultry declaration that fans the flames of desire between you two. The acknowledgment of your shared exhibitionist desires ignites a fresh surge of pleasure, prompting an instinctive clench around him.
“Then scream my name, let everyone in the damn party know how damn good I'm fucking you,” he commands, the intensity of his voice sending shivers down your spine. As your walls clench with even greater fervor, pulsating around his dick, a wave of your liquid envelops him, transforming the intimate connection into a slippery dance of shared pleasure.
You unleash his name with a primal scream, the sheer force of your ecstasy reverberating through the open air outside. Your head drops against the curve of his neck, seeking refuge in the haven of his embrace as the waves of pleasure cascade over you.
He relentlessly thrusts his dick into you, the urgency palpable as he seeks his own release. “I'm gonna give you a baby, just like we've always dreamed of.”
“Ahhh, fuck, yes!” The exclamation bursts from your lips, a little too loud, as an uncontrollable surge of pleasure courses through you. Your teeth instinctively seek refuge on his shoulder, sinking into the firm flesh in an unbridled act of both ecstasy and restraint.
“Fuck, babe, I'm gonna come,” he confesses with a guttural moan, each subsequent thrust punctuated with the desperation of impending release. His rhythm stumbles, an involuntary response to the intensity building within him as he hurtles towards the precipice of his orgasm. And then it hits him.
The rhythmic bounce of your tits in his face, the soft and sweet scent that envelops him, and the melodic cadence of your voice—all converge to cast a spell on his senses. In the midst of your lovely moans, he succumbs to the intoxicating blend of sensations, unleashing a torrent of white-hot semen deep inside your spent pussy. 
Panting and gasping, you both struggle for precious breaths, bodies slick with the sheen of sweat acquired in the throes of passion. Amidst the shared exhaustion, a mutual chuckle reverberates between you, an intimate exchange that encapsulates the postcoital atmosphere.
With your head nestled against his, you gaze into the depth of his eyes and confess, “I love you, Gukkie.” The words, tender and raw, bridge the physical intimacy you've just shared with the emotional vulnerability of a heartfelt declaration.
“I love you too. Every damn inch of you, you're so beautiful,” he pants, a declaration infused with both desire and admiration. As he smiles at you, the post-passion glow accentuates the sincerity in his eyes, turning the exchange into a powerful affirmation.
He'll never tire of professing his boundless love and adoration for you, vowing to weave those sentiments into the fabric of each passing day. The promise to remind you, with unwavering devotion, echoes in his commitment to articulate his love every damn day.
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Please let me know if you liked it with a comment, reblog, and ask or whatever 💜
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is-the-thing-actually-jewish · 10 months ago
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is Jewish Voice for Peace actually Jewish? I've heard a couple different things about that but no sources
@gryphistheantlerqueen also asked:
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Whooo boy. So this has been sitting in the inbox for a few months, I wrote up a draft, and then it just sat... until this past week, when some new JVP BS hit the fan and gave me the kick to finish it.
Sooooo...
Verdict: Not Actually Jewish
(updated verdict after finding out about the “self-managed conversion” and “teacup mikvah”) Jewish, technically, and that "technically" is doing a lot of heavy lifting, and is actively debatable without access to a detailed breakdown of JVP’s actual membership rolls. 
In general summation, JVP is a far-left radical antizionist group that is headed by a few visibly antizionist Jews and whose membership rolls are either a strong minority or outright majority of non-Jews, based on variable statistics that they've released. Although they claim that the “majority of their members and staff are Jewish”, this seems to be both statistically unlikely and actively suspicious due to their noted tendency to instruct even non-Jewish members to speak #AsAJew on social media, and their instructions to do “self-managed conversions”.  However, due to their title, they are very popular with people who want a Jewish Stamp Of Approval for demonizing Israelis and Zionist Jews as a result. In effect, they are Jewish in the same way that people like Candace Owens and Hershel Walker are Black—as self-tokenizing minorities who throw the rest of their ethnic group under the bus in exchange for power and political access.
And despite the claims that they are “inspired by Jewish values and traditions” (as put on their website) and “oppose anti-Jewish hatred,” JVP routinely engages in antisemitic rhetoric, up to and including blood libel and antisemitic conspiracy theories, and acts as a shield against non-Jews who also engage in antisemitic rhetoric so long as the non-Jews in question remember to shout "For Palestine!" first. This is not an exaggeration. 
The primary example of their in-house antisemitic rhetoric is their "Deadly Exchange" program, where they explicitly and conspiratorially blame Israel as being responsible for American police brutality and militarization. However, for all of their fearmongering and blame-casting on the subject—as if American cops needed outside help in brutalizing minorities or gaining military-grade handmedowns from the Pentagon, both of which are explicit claims of the "Deadly Exchange" program—they have a hard time actually identifying specific deaths associated with the international training seminars they're holding up as responsible.
One of the the closest they've come to a specific allegation is claiming that "former St. Louis County police chief Timothy Fitch trained with the Israeli military three years before Michael Brown’s killing and the Ferguson uprising." (Note: this was in a video that appears to have since been made private.) But Darren Wilson worked for the Ferguson PD, not the St. Louis PD, and Fitch retired months before the killing. So he was in a completely different police department, and this is the closest JVP comes to pointing to specific deaths or acts of brutality that they blame on Israel. Everything else is literal fearmongering--up to and including the classic conspiratorial tropes of "secretive Jewish governmental influence".
JVP has also happily supported the words of white supremacists like Richard Spencer, taking his “You could say that I’m a white Zionist in the sense that I care about my people," statement at face value, using it as the basis for entire articles where they compared Zionism to White Supremacy as a deliberate misrepresentation of the ideology that is common on the extreme political Left (you can compare that treatment again with how Candace Owens treats the word "Woke" on the Right). Even when the Charlottesville "Unite the Right" march happened, JVP wasted no time in comparing Zionism with the very ideology fueling the people chanting "Jews Will Not Replace Us," saying that Zionism is "Jewish racial supremacy" and calling for a universal condemnation of the ideology as a form of White Supremacy... which was the exact sort of message that many of those same White Supremacists would have happily agreed with.  So JVP is essentially siding with literal White Supremacists,  even as they claim that "Jews are not the primary victims of White Supremacy."
JVP also engages in Holocaust revisionism, such as with this lovely quote from Cecilie Surasky, the deputy director of JVP, “I believe it is critical to situate the genocide of Jews in a broader context, and not as an exceptional, metaphysically unique event. Some 6 million Jews died, but another 5 million people were also targeted for annihilation.”
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(another quote, from an article by Surasky, which compares Netanyahu to Hitler.)
This is just straight revisionism of the entire Holocaust and the unique fixation the Nazis had on the Jews. Literally, even when they were losing, they were diverting resources from the war just to kill more Jews. Quote Hitler himself, "Jews must be prevented from intruding themselves among all the other nations as elements of internal disruption, under the mask of honest world-citizens, and thus gaining power over these nations." The very basis of the Nazi ideology paints Jews as an existential threat to the human race's peace and security—a far cry from JVP's claim that the Jewish suffering in the Holocaust wasn't unique or exceptional.
Additionally, JVP ignores or re-envisions Mizrachi Jewish history. They call the very term Mizrachi “Zionist rhetoric,” and refer to Mizrachi “immigrants,” (“Deadly Exchange,” pg. 16-17), and claim “the Israeli government facilitated a mass immigration of Mizrahim” (“Our Approach to Zionism”) as though those weren’t the direct result of the mass expulsion of and violence against Jews in MENA countries. These weren’t immigrants, these were refugees. 
And as for the question of “Are they Jewish?”, well...
Statistically, they are not representative of the Jewish population as a whole, 90% of whom identify as some degree of Zionist in the sense of “Supporting Jewish self-determination.”  One does not need to be Jewish to join JVP, as they proudly state on their website. Their membership rolls are also extremely obfuscated, and the fact that they encourage their followers, whether Jewish or not, to post and speak “as Jews” on social media makes it even more difficult to figure out what percentage of their membership is actually Jewish.  Furthermore, they have instructions for their members to engage in “self-conversions” that are not acceptable to Jewish law or tradition, and misuse/appropriate other sacred Jewish traditions to the point that “blasphemy” is an accurate description, with their instructions on the mikvah (a sacred bath) being outright offensive.  
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(note that one has to be completely nude and bare of any adornment or makeup to use the mikvah, which is a pure pool of collected rainwater to be immersed in, for context on the above... misuse.  Trying to claim this as being “in line with sacred Jewish tradition” is like trying to claim to be Catholic while also saying that the Pope is the Antichrist and that using beer and a doughnut for the Eucharist is acceptable. For more information on mikveh, see: The Jewish Virtual Library, Aish, myjewishlearning, or Chabad.
There's also no altar.
The irony of asking people not to appropriate while doing this is astonishing.)
It’s also telling that they straight up say they are “claiming” the practice as their own.
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Furthermore, JVP has hosted panels on “antisemitism” in the past... headed by people who are not only not Jewish, but who have been credibly accused of antisemitism in the past.  
JVP has also endorsed The Mapping Project Boston, which was a Boycott, Divest, and Sanction (BDS) subsidiary, listing every “Zionist” organization in Boston, Mass. This included Jewish schools, elder homes, community centers, disability centers, and more; all of them painted with scary and misleading “links” to non-Jewish organizations to insinuate Jewish control of the state and city governments, invoking age-old antisemitic tropes of a conspiracy of Jews as they did so:
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(first image is the Mapping Project, the second is a 1938 Nazi political cartoon)
The Mapping Project also, and this is my personal favorite, accused Harvard University of doing “racist science” for engaging in archeological and genetic studies of Jews and Jewish history.  Tellingly, BDS actually disavowed The Mapping Project (albeit for bad optics, not for the rank antisemitism they were promoting)... but JVP has not, even though the Mapping Project’s entry for the ADL reads as follows:
Masquerading as a “civil rights” group, the ADL is a counterinsurgency and espionage organization whose mission is to protect the mutual interests of the US and Israeli governments, and to eliminate solidarity among oppressed peoples, especially concerning Palestine. The ADL spies on and criminalizes activists (using its connections to governments, police, schools, and corporations) while undermining their work by pushing its own state-sanctioned, pro-“Israel” agenda. And while the ADL claims to represent Jews and to fight “antisemitism” on their behalf, the organization has supported anti-Jewish state violence and sanitized Nazis. The ADL cannot be reformed: it must be dismantled and whatever resources it has should go towards repairing the many harms it has done. (Emphasis added.)
Of course, JVP has also engaged in similar conspiracy-toned antisemitic dogwhistles, such as this fun bit from their first Deadly Exchange video:
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So clearly (to me at least), they have no problems with The Mapping Project’s tone and presentation.  
And this isn’t even going into JVP’s routine promotion of blood libel, their egregious double standards, their approving of pogroms, their active support for Hamas terrorists and demonization of Hamas’ victims, their attempted revisionism of Jewish history, their abject rejection of Jewish culture, and their other actions that show not just bias, but outright hatred for 90% of the world’s Jews.  
As one commentator put it, JVP as an organization is very much like Autism Speaks is to Autistic people--a thinly disguised hate group that views the people they’re supposedly speaking for as the problem, and themselves as promoting the Solution.  To this moderator, they’re the equivalent of the Association of German National Jews, who were also known as the Jews for Hitler; they wanted to abandon Judaism and embrace Naziism... and they got sent to the gas chambers anyway.  
Mod Joseph
Sources:
www.adl.org/resources/backgrounder/jewish-voice-peace
www.jewishvoiceforpeace.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/Mikveh-Guide-for-Jewish-Voice-for-Peace-Outlined.pdf
(and also just... a general experience/exposure to them on social media, where even the most progressive actions taken by Israel, such as the recent ruling regarding queer Palestinians being able to claim sanctuary in Israel, being labeled as “pinkwashing”)
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