#sex with herpes
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SPFPP 264: From Victim to Volunteer
Sarah, @Bloodswanmusic on Instagram shows up for a live podcast recording on Instagram if you want to watch. We initially began with her herpes story as we usually do. But then we went into discussing co-dependency vs interdependence in relationships, love addiction, disclosing celibacy, the difference in dating men vs women for her as a bisexual woman, and how all these other things in our lives with much more weight than herpes tend to not carry as much weight to us as an HSV diagnosis does.
Here's the Love Addiction Podcast I referenced: https://open.spotify.com/episode/4Nu9tF2AtwAGYMVNPtanwk?_authfailed=1
#spfpp 264 from victim to volunteer#spfpp celibacy#spfpp abuse#spfpp divorce#dating with herpes#living with herpes#sex with herpes#spfpp bisexual
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There's a lot of stigma associated with STIs like herpes. Here are some things you can do to help fight it:
Add “people with STIs, including herpes” to your mental list of groups that face discrimination (like GLBT folks, people with disabilities, women, Muslims, African Americans, Latino Americans, etc). Recognize their struggle and support them when you see discrimination happening.
Take a stand against herpes or other STI jokes that would make someone who has it feel ashamed or uncomfortable. Step in and say, "Dude, that’s not funny. How would you feel?"
Pay attention to language. Pay attention to metaphors like monster, leper, and dirty or clean. Try to stop using them yourself, and try to get your friends to stop as well.
Pay attention to stereotypes. Correct people when they try to say that being a slut means you probably have herpes, or that people with herpes are liars and cheaters.
Tell your story. If you have herpes, it may be too scary or too risky to come out about having herpes in public or to your friends and family. But you can share your story anonymously either online or using a pen name. Share your experience to help dispel the myths about herpes, and to let others know that they are not alone and that herpes is not the end of the world.
If you’re in college, investigate your health center and on campus sex ed resources. Pay attention to how they talk about herpes and whether or not their approach is reinforcing or rejecting stigma. If you don’t like what you see, try to change it.
(From This is About Genital Herpes)
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man i'm rearing up to FINALLY run curse of Strahd with a group of friends and I just,,, can not handle my friend's horniness LMAO It's not just the horniness though She's very insistent and believes that if she fucks the guy she'll get immunity to his bullshit I'm very close to just grappling her and telling her he's white cazador to get her to understand that this guy is a loon who is not going to fall head over heels for her pc and make her his vampyr queen (and even if he did that's... not a good fate.) He's too busy lusting after his dead not-wife anyways
#either that or he's just gonna kill her pc tbh#I have like 4 separate scenarios planned up to put her down if she crosses a boundary#because I have made it very clear there will be no vampyr sex#Be your own advocate and just nuke ur players if you need to.#that's my vet dm wisdom (i've run like 4 games and completed none)#because scheduling y'know?#curse of strahd#dnd#dnd rantings#gives her a vampirically-transmitted-disease#a vtd if you will#(it's herpes)
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I mean obviously I love the dedication to safe sex but they really made it sound like herpes was gonna be the end of the world. and then I get it by accident and I've had like. two flares since my infection years ago? and they're so minor now that the first one is over with that it's literally just. oh I took my vitamins and two days later my two little sores are gone.
#this isn't me saying go have unprotected sex and get herpes#just like. they really wanted us to believe in school that people with herpes are grotesque#and live in a constant state of like. melting and disease#i was only like that for two weeks thank you very much
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Is it normal for your throat to hurt the next day after kissing someone?
Like I’ve been seeing this guy for the past few months, and after every make out session we’ve had, the next day my throat is sore.
He has been sick twice, and I miraculously haven’t gotten sick (when he’s sick we don’t kiss, but we still cuddle). But like clockwork, the next day after I see him (even when he’s not sick), my throat hurts. It’s never anything but a sore throat, and it usually goes away in a few days, so I’ve never been too concerned about it; I am wondering if this is normal though?
i don’t think it’s normal. it’s never happened to me or any of my friends at least. i know sometimes lips or around the face can get sore or irritated from kissing so maybe it’s something like that? or he’s like always walking around with bacteria in his mouth he’s immunized to and he’s transmitting them😭 does it happen with just him?
oh google says you could be allergic to a protein in his saliva. maybe it’s that🤷♀️
it’s very unfortunate if it’s lasting DAYS though like you’re saying like it’s not a big deal but i would be fuming if i had a sore throat for days because of some guy
#i hope it gets fixed that sounds terrible😭#one time i woke up with a pimple on my lip after kissing a guy and i thought it was herpes and i was PISSED i ended things with him#it ended up just being a pimple😭#sorry guy🫶#ask#virgins anonymous#ur probs not a virgin but it’s got sex ed column vibes
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was reading a fic earlier that categorized “desire to kiss someone” as sexual attraction and i was like ??? i mean for me that’s romantic but you do you i guess
#kissing someone is NOT about fucking them for me#even if i find it difficult to imagine sex without kissing#which is funny bc i have had sex without kissing many many times due to. size difference and also herpes
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Image description: A graphic that's mostly a column of text. The heading says,
"What's that test for? There are different ways your doctor might check you for sexually transmitted infections (STIs), so here's what they could be checking for during each test."
Then it has several lists, which say:
Urine test (an illustration of a urine sample in a closed plastic jar)
Chlamydia
Gonorrhea
Blood test (an illustration of a blood sample in a test tube)
HIV
Syphilis
Herpes
Hepatitis B
Swab test (an illustration of a cotton swab and a closed plastic jar)
HPV
Herpes
Chlamydia
Bacterial vaginosis
Gonorrhea
Syphilis
Trichomoniasis
Oral (cheek) swab (an illustration of a cotton swab and a piece of gauze)
HIV
Physical exam (an illustration of a rubber glove)
Genital warts
Bacterial vaginosis
End description.
via Buzzfeed
#rated PG-13#originally posted on April 29 2016 by PlannedParenthood#sexually transmitted infections#sex education#blood#if you don't want to see this content from my blog: i always tag thoroughly so you can blacklist the tag 'sex education'#STI test#content warning#screen reader friendly#queue#HIV#herpes#syphilis#gonorrhea#HPV#HIV AIDS
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please don’t put posts like these on my dash ever again

#working at a cashier is shit hours and shit pay but hey at least im not risking all types stds like herpes or the clap invading my body#im sorry but normalizing sw does nothing but normalize and ultimately promote sex trafficking which is still a feminist problem everywhere#theres nothing empowering about having an of too it just normalizes the idea that access to women’s bodies can be bought and sold to men#look at my first world dawg we are never escaping the capitalist patriarchy system#if u send me ask about this i will delete it
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SPFPP 312: Kink as a Treatment for Trauma with Marla Stewart
I put Marla's bio below this description but let me tell ya'll, I came in with three talking points:
1. What is the Sex Down South Conference?
2. Speaking to the intersection of pleasure and safety when it comes to sex
3. Talking about kink as a treatment for trauma
I NEVER make outlines for episodes because typically the content deviates from the topic and I find myself trying too hard to stay on topic but we managed to get an hour of conversation going between us. Marla offers some examples of this with choking and I share some of my own experiences navigating not only the conference but how kink has been helpful to me navigating not just my ideas of sex, but with INTIMACY. If you've been listening to the last few episodes or following me on social media then you know I've been looking at my own relationship to sex and intimacy and invite you to do the same.
Don't forget the herpes survey: www.spfpp.org/survey
Don't forget weekly support group meetings but you gotta be a Patreon subscriber: www.patreon.com/spfpp
Marla (she/her) is a certified sexologist, author, and sexual strategist who runs her own sexuality education company, Velvet Lips. She is also a Co-Founder of the top- rated Sex Down South Conference. She has studied human sexuality for more than 22 years and has given over 600 workshops all over the world. She has been featured on a variety of media outlets, including Netflix’s Trigger Warning with Killer Mike and Love & HipHop Atlanta. She co-wrote her first book, The Ultimate Guide to Seduction & Foreplay with Dr. Jessica O’Reilly, which debuted in April 2020.
You can learn more about Sex Down South by visiting www.sexdownsouth..com and following SDS on social media at SDSCON.
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#spfpp 312 kink as a treatment for trauma with marla stewart#spfpp sex down south#spfpp sdscon#spfpp kink#spfpp kinky with herpes#herpes and kink#hsv and kink#kink and hsv#kinky with hsv#spfpp non monogamous#spfpp monogomish#spfpp kink as healing#spfpp healing through kink
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Image description: Many dental dams in various fun colors that have been neatly folded up like origami. They're arranged so that the overall impression is like what you might see decoratively printed on gift wrapping paper. Description ends.
+ What is a dental dam?
+ How can they be sexy?
+ Where do you buy them?
+ Who uses them?
Welcome to Lesbian Sex 101, Autostraddle’s series on how to have lesbian sex for queer women and anyone who finds this information applicable to their bodies or sexual activities. Sex ed almost never includes queer women or our experiences, so with this series we’re exploring pleasure, safety, relationships and more to make that information more accessible.
What Are Dental Dams, and How Do They Work?
#rated PG-13#sex education#lesbian#queer#safer sex#dental dam#queue#relevant for lesbians and bisexual women and any women who love women#relevant for women whether cisgender or transgender or intersex#screen reader friendly#Autostraddle#posted by Autostraddle on January 9 2018#gonorrhea#herpes#cervical cancer#HIV#relevant for butch women and transgender men and trans masculine people#relevant for transgender women and trans feminine nonbinary people and others on the male to female spectrum
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proud to be with stds
All STDs, herpes, hiv positive singles and couples, join us for more fun
https://www.PositiveSingles.com/i/dzt1
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I grew up with abstinence-only sex education, and it did a real number on me. But I’ve shaken off enough of my old cultural programming to realize that the transmission of bacteria and viruses is a thing that sometimes just happens when animals come together, no matter how stringently we might try to prevent it.
I have gotten urinary tract infections when a stray microbe found its way into my urethra after sex. Lube and bodily fluids have disturbed my vagina’s pH and caused a yeast infection many times. So has wearing a bathing suit for too long without drying it, yet another “risk” worth the pleasures of swimming along the sea wall.
Once or twice I’ve had an outbreak of cold sores, just like 80% of humans. If I’m like most people, I probably caught oral herpes when I was very young, sharing a sippy cup or rolling around at a sleepover.
None of this makes me disgusting, irresponsible, evil, or dangerous to others. It just makes me a living creature that exists in close contact with other creatures. I believe I have a responsibility to get tested regularly, to alert people who have been close to me when I get sick, and to use preventative measures like condoms, PreP, vaccines, toys, and masks to prevent the spread of infections as best I can. But I never imagine I can lead a life without risk — or that such a life would even be desirable.
There is no such thing as completely “safe” sex. A friend of mine can’t use condoms because they give her bacterial vaginosis. She chooses instead to fuck raw and take PreP and get anything else she catches treated. A guy I know who masks and tests religiously caught COVID while fisting someone (with a gloved hand!) at an air-filtered party. HPV is so prevalent that most sexual wellness clinics don’t bother testing for it, and can’t do much for a patient if they do have it. Our bodies are teeming at all times with various endemic viruses and microbes that we will never have the power to purge.
Then there are the possible costs of not having sex — vaginal atrophy, pelvic floor weakening, reduced access to endorphins, loneliness, touch starvation, the despair of harboring dreams that one never dares try. I can’t decide for anyone else which dangers loom the largest, but for me a gonorrhea shot is a fair trade for the hours of leg-cramping, bed-staining, hypno-kinky sex that led to it. There’s no guarantee that the next time I have sex it will be anywhere near as much fun, but the potential keeps me throwing the dice.
I hear quite frequently from sexually inexperienced Autistic people who crave an intimate connection, but desperately wish to remain responsible and “safe.” They want there to be a set of iron-tight rules they can follow that will guarantee they remain a virtuous person who never hurts anyone’s feelings, and never catches any sexually transmitted infection.
I understand why they want someone to impose order onto an unpredictable, terrifying world. But I can’t give that certainty to them, nor can anyone. All I can suggest is that they be honest with themselves about what they want, inform themselves of the costs and benefits to pursuing their desires, and then venture forward — proudly welcoming the correct risks into their life, rather than trying to avoid any risks at all.
Life is nothing but a negotiation of risk. If a person has gender dysphoria and they want to combat it, they must risk a transition they could one day regret. If an abolitionist wants to take a stand against the police state, they must plan for the possibility of arrest or political repression. When we open our hearts to love, we expose ourselves to grief — our partners will keep changing and growing, sometimes away from us. Each step that we take forward in life closes off potential paths. There is no avoiding this.
Instead of chasing after the false promise of “safety,” trying to remain completely insulated from harm and challenge forever, we must get better at admitting risk into our lives.
I wrote about all about the messy business of risk mitigation, and how the pursuit of perfect safety is used to justify isolation, theft of bodily autonomy, and political repression. It's free to read (or have narrated to you by the app!) at drdevonprice.substack.com
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sweeter than you ever knew. (pt. 1)
Series: pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 Pairing: Wade Wilson x Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6.8k Warnings: AFAB reader (uses she/her pronouns), 1st person POV, non-mutant Reader, some blood, Wade being too flirty for his own good, vaginal fingering, bathroom sex, dirty talking, the relationship with Logan is a "slow" burn in comparison. More smut to come, I swear. Author's note: Damn...it's been a while huh? My last comic related fic was in 2018, funny enough also because of a Deadpool movie. I was already sappy in a post before so I wont subject y'all to it. But this was intended to be a short little oneshot and has absolutely ballooned out of control. I'm thinking this will end up being five chapters. I will upload the second chapter concurrently with my ao3 upload, so if you prefer to read there, feel free! Also as a little aside: I am so unbelievably sorry that the reader's job working in outreach to help Al is barely described and is probably highly inaccurate. I was desperate not to get lost in the weeds of research on the subject. I needed something that would keep the reader out of the apartment most of the time and let the relationship grow differently, so neighbors was out of the question. If you work in community outreach (absolute angel), please just avert your eyes.
I used to think my life was boring. It was the same day in, day out. I never met anyone interesting or experienced new things. That changed when I knocked on an unassuming apartment door in a dingy building.
I worked in government outreach, providing assistance to elderly blind clients. I had been assigned to work with Althea Sanderson. Her file had listed her as combative and she didn’t disappoint. She absolutely hated my guts at first, grumbling about how she just needed her “disco dust” to keep going. She assured me that she had roommates and didn’t need me “thundering” around her small apartment.
For nearly two weeks, I thought her mind had to have been slipping, because no one else would come from that apartment besides me. Imagine my shock when I walked into the place and found a hulking mass of a man, only in his boxers, in the kitchen. His brown hair, streaked with white, was wet after a shower and he was half heartedly rubbing at his shoulder with a towel covered in sparkly unicorns. “Who the hell are you?” He snapped, voice gruff. He glared at me like I had personally insulted him by my mere presence. My eyes darted all over him, the thick ropes of muscles in his arms, the harsh planes of abs, the thin sheen of dark hair on his chest, the trail disappearing into his boxers. The man yanked the fridge door open and snapped me from my drooling.
I had barely stumbled my name out before Al, as she insisted I call her when she realized I wasn’t going anywhere, came around the corner, her hands guiding her along the wall. “Leave her alone Logan. She’s like herpes and I can’t get rid of her.” My lips pursed at the comparison. The man, Logan, huffed with either annoyance or laughter before padding away, beer clutched in his hand. For how big he was, I was shocked at how light on his feet he was. In comparison, I really did thunder around.
“Oh! Do we have a new roomie!?” The voice trembled in excitement. Its owner bounded around the corner, clad only in low slung sweatpants, nearly tripping over the scraggly dog at his feet. I drew back, sucking in a sharp breath. The new man was no less tall than the other, but lean in comparison, with a wide chest and firm arms. But I was far more distracted by his skin. It was a mixture of mottled pink and white, looking more like swirled bacon fat than anything else. He was completely hairless but I saw the skin of his forehead rise. “Al, you didn’t say you had a hot granddaughter!”
“Oh I’m not,” I said. While I was scheduled to be here for four hours, I was already contemplating how to escape the suddenly cramped apartment.
“Does she look like she’s related to me dick for brains?” Al growled at him. The man shrugged, a megawatt smile plastered on his face as he picked up the dog and let it lick at his face.
“She has the same wild sexual energy you do, my sweet black Betty White.” He walked closer, carelessly dropping the dog into Al’s lap just as she lowered herself into a creaky chair. The man theatrically bowed, snagging my hand to press a too wet kiss to my knuckles. His skin was unbelievably soft as it held mine, the grip light enough that I could pull away at any moment. “Wade Winston Wilson.”
He was so close to me that I took a half step back. I gave him my name, just my first, and wriggled my hand free. “Um, I'm assuming your Al’s roommates?”
“Roommates is such a safe for work word, I prefer to be her personal pommel horse.” A laugh bubbles up before I can stop it. Wade grinned at the sound and shit, his face softened in such a charming way that I felt my defenses come down just a little.
“I don’t think you understand what a pommel horse is.”
“Isn’t it something you ride? Get all flexable on?”
After that first awkward day, all four of us fell into an easy routine. Al seemed to warm to me more, though her sharp tongue never faltered. Wade was a vibrating ball of energy whenever I came over. He bounced around the kitchen as I made Al her coffee or insisted I sit with them to watch Golden Girls . I came to realize that only his right hand was so soft, the left was scratchy and blistered, which was something I refused to think about any deeper. Logan remained standoffish and reserved but he was there when I needed a break from Wade’s constant talking. I would occasionally find him sitting on the fire escape, smoking the cigar that seemed permanently stuck to his fingers. We often just sat in silence while Wade and Al argued about Ikea furniture.
I had always found their schedule strange. They would disappear for days, sometimes weeks, at a time with no rhyme or reason. I had originally thought they might be businessmen but Logan’s quick temper and Wade’s obnoxious energy clashed with the idea. Wade often talked about going to exotic places and had brought me back a diamond that he swears up and down is not only real, but is also the tip of a woman’s finger.
The day I found out their real profession had started horribly. The train line to Al’s apartment had broken, so I had to take a cab there. I was flustered, hungry, and in desperate need of caffeine when I trudged up the five flights of stairs to Al’s apartment, because, of course , her elevator had broken. It was customary for me to knock twice, allowing Al to respond before I used my key to come in. Today, my knocks were much shorter. “Good morning Al,” I called, slipping into the door before turning to close and lock it. I spun and nearly screamed.
“Oh hey,” Wade said, leaning against the wall of the kitchen, a mug clutched in his hand. I was far more distracted by three massive claw marks across his chest, blood oozing down his stomach, staining his plaid underwear.
“Oh my god! Wade!” My keys and purse clattered to the floor as I rushed to him, bracing my hands against his chest. “What happened?! Holy shit, oh fuck.” I was babbling now, distracted by how sticky and hot the blood was. But his chest rumbled under my shaking hands. I glanced up and saw a smile on his face as he failed to contain his laughter. “What are you fucking laughing at?! You’re dying here and you're laughing?!”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear. Miss good samaritan knows such nasty words.” I tried never to swear around patients but this was a worst fucking case scenario.
“Oh fuck off! You’re dying and you're laughing ‘cause I said a bad word?!” That only seemed to make him laugh harder.
“Calm down sweetheart,” came a rough voice behind me. Logan had started to call me that more often, but it always felt like he was insulting me with the word. It usually had a stinge of annoyance laced around it, now was no different. “He’s fine.” I peaked over my shoulder, hands still pressed against Wade’s firm chest, about to argue with the other man about how un fine Wade was. I nearly screamed again. A knife was embedded into Logan’s shoulder. There was blood everywhere . On his bare chest, his face, his hands and arms.
“Logan!” I wanted to reach for him but couldn’t without leaving Wade to bleed out.
“Now peanut,” Wade cooed and slid out from under my touch. “I told you, baby knife is just for the bedroom.” With that, Wade yanked the knife from Logan’s shoulder. The spurt of blood made my head woozy and I gripped the counter to hold myself steady. Logan barely reacted to the five inch blade being ripped from his skin, just a small grunt.
“What’s going on?” My voice was thick with confusion. They had clearly been mauled and attacked in their own home, yet they walked around like nothing traumatizing had just happened.
“Target practice,” Wade said, using a kitchen towel to clean baby knife. Logan turned and dropped on the worn couch, the springs screeching in protest.
“What?” I grabbed at his wrist before he could walk away. “Wade, please, I hope you understand how jarring that was. Now, please explain and cut all the punny bullshit out.” Wade pressed a dramatic hand to his chest like I had insulted him.
“We’re mutants.” My eyebrows knitted together as I stalked toward the living room. Logan sat there, whiskey already in hand. He seemingly hid a bottle everywhere. Wade followed behind before collapsing on top of Logan. The older man snapped his jaws like an animal and a little snarl escaped his throat. Wade grinned, tugged at his hair, before going to the other end of the couch.
“Mutants? Like the X-Men?” The scowl Logan shot me turned my blood to ice. Some of that shock must have shown on my face because Logan glanced away, taking a hefty swig of whiskey, and Wade tugged at my bloody pinky.
“Ignore him, the X-men are a touchy subject for him, and never touchy in the fun way.” He scratched at his chest, some of the blood smudging. The skin was…
“You’re healed?” I knelt before the couch, hands feeling his chest. “Holy shit I thought you were going to bleed out.” It was impossible. The wounds were deep , I could have sworn I saw bone before.
“God I’ve thought about you kneeling there for so long.” Logan’s fist cracked into Wade’s arm. My hands flinched away and I quickly stood. “Hurtful peanut. You know my arms always take too long to heal.”
“Stop being a fucking creep,” Logan hissed. I turned to him and saw that the wound in his shoulder was also gone. Without thinking, I bent to touch the smooth skin, as if I couldn’t believe it without feeling it as well. Logan went still under my touch. I knew Wade didn’t mind the physical contact, he practically threw himself at me whenever I was around, but Logan was always just out of reach. I was too frazzled to think correctly anymore.
“So you can heal,” I mumbled.
“Very fast,” Wade said. He grabbed the remote and clicked on the tv.
“You can stop touching me now sweetheart.” Once again, I snatched my hands back with a mumbled sorry , a faint flush burning my cheeks.
“Comes in real handy with our line of work.” Wade was bouncing his leg, the couch squeaking under him. Logan’s hand shot out to still him, knuckles showing white for a moment. Wade winced and I heard another snap.
“Which is…?”
Logan answered for me, “mercenaries.”
“Oh,” I plopped down on the rickety coffee table. The information settled like a lead weight in my stomach. My first instinct was fear. They killed people for money. Would they then turn on me now? Curiosity tugged at me as well. I couldn’t explain it but there was something so magnetic about them. The edge of danger had always been there, especially with Logan. I would have never guessed it was this. Ever since I first met them, I knew I would be fascinated. I guess I had my answer as to why they were as fit as models. “How come I’ve never seen anything? Do you guys not have…guns or whatever?”
“He didn’t want to scare you.” Logan jabbed his thumb Wade’s way. I cocked my head at Wade, a tiny smile pulling at my lips. He actually looked a little bashful.
“I’ve found that women don’t always respond very positively to my intestines hanging out.” My stomach flipped and I sat a little straighter.
“Has that happened?”
“No, but a fortune teller told me it will happen when I least expect it.” He stood with an excited jump, moving to stand in front of a small closet. There was only a faint limp in his movement. As he walked, I became incredibly aware that both men were nearly naked, only clad in thin boxers. With every step, Wade’s well defined back flexed and his legs tensed. I only allowed myself a moment to take him in before I drew my gaze away. He turned and flung the door open with flourish. “Behold! My batcave!” I glanced inside, and found a tall gun case, massive stacks of ammo, and two katanas balanced against a red suit. There was a yellow one tucked next to it as well. “Mine is the red one, a very flattering color I assure you.”
“The yellow one is yours?” Logan just gives me a curt nod. His face is stone again, clearly done with this conversation. “Do you use any of that?” I ask, motioning to the “batcave”, whatever the hell that means.
Snikt.
“Woah,” I whispered. The three blades protruding from between his knuckles were shiny and looked wicked sharp. I leaned forward and pressed the pad of my thumb against the middle blade. It immediately split the skin and a drop of blood oozed down my skin. Logan watched my warily, like I was liable to jump on the claws at any moment. “Do they hurt?” There were small beads of blood around where they had pierced through his skin. With a flex of his veiny forearm, the claws disappeared. The blades slid smoothly between the bones on the back of his hand.
“Yeah, everytime.” I watch his skin knit itself together again with rapt attention. Once it finished, I ran my injured thumb over the regrown skin, our blood smearing a thick stripe across his knuckles. Logan’s hand was relaxed as I held it. Wade flopped back onto the couch, his head in Logan’s lap, baby knife clutched in his hands. Logan seemed resigned, face relaxing just a bit, and allowed Wade to rest. He withdrew his hand from mine before resting his arm across Wade’s neck. The motion was surprisingly domestic and it made my heart warm. Behind me, the Golden Girls theme played.
“Isn’t Al in danger with you two here? Don’t you have enemies that could find her?” The briefest sad expression flashed across Wade’s face. I stood suddenly, “oh my god where is she? Did someone already grab her and that’s why you were fucked up?”
“She’s fine, probably wandering the streets or whatever women of her age do,” Wade made a dismissive wave of his hand.
“Wade!” I stepped on his foot in my mad dash to my fallen purse. I needed my phone to do…something. Call someone? The phone call would sound ridiculous. Hi, I help a blind woman and her two mutant roommates are mercenaries and got her kidnapped. Yeah, totally believable. I had just snatched my bag up when the door opened and Al herself appeared.
“Fucking Jesus,” she snapped as she ran into me. My body sagged in relief at seeing her. I gripped her shoulders, just to make sure she was actually there.
“Oh my god Al, don’t fucking scare my like that.” Her hands flew up and shook out from my touch.
“Well you were late!” I wasn’t. “Are those two done fucking yet?” I twisted to look at the men on the couch. Logan was half way out the window to smoke. I could have sworn I saw him lick at his bloody knuckles. Wade was studying me, the hint of a challenge in his eyes, daring me to say something about their relationship. I smiled, hoping it let him know I didn’t care. But that easy look might have been ruined when pieces fell together. The knife. The three slashes to Wade’s chest. Their near nakedness.
Huh.
“Uh yeah Al, I think I ruined the mood for them.” She scoffed and shoved a grocery bag into my hands. I dutifully turned to the kitchen and began to store away the random assortment of items. She guided herself over to the coffee maker and began to load the grounds into a filter.
“I think you are one of the biggest things that puts them in the mood honey.” I heard a growl float in from the window.
Wade and Logan stopped avoiding me after finding out their true occupation. It never got any easier seeing their bloody bodies strew around the apartment. I slipped on enough stray bullets that I learned to watch my feet. Wade was always cleaning his guns with a concentration I didn’t think he was capable of. One night he forced me to sit down, offering his lap first and whimpered pitifully when I took the chair, and made me hold the gun, showing me how to cock it and flick the safety on and off. The name Chekhov was stamped across the side in shiny gold letters. “Do I really need to know this?” He leaned closer, cheek pressed to mine. His warm hands slid over my own, guiding me to a button that would pop the magazine out and helped me click it back into place. He had grown much bolder in his touching and I couldn’t bring myself to stop him anymore.
“Never know when you’ll need to flip the badass switch.” His bubbly finger tapped the glittering name for emphasis. I shifted in my seat to face him, my lips ghosting over his cheek. He followed my lead and our noses brushed.
“I didn’t think I would need that with you around.” A beat passed as we looked at each other. There was something soft in his eyes that made my heart clench. “You’re going to protect me, right?” It wouldn’t take much to lean closer, to finally kiss him. I knew he was thinking the same thing and my eyelids fluttered closed in anticipation.
The alarm for my Al’s meds broke the moment.
I knew I was sliding into a sticky situation. I found myself staying later and later, well past my shift with Al had ended. It was absolutely forbidden for me to become involved with clients. The excuse that they weren’t technically my clients wouldn’t work on my boss. I needed to make a decision. Either stop working with Al or end any attachment to Wade, and Logan by extension.
***
I’m not sure how Wade and I ended up on that date. He and Logan had been away on a job for a week. It was finally peaceful in the apartment but I couldn’t lie to myself, I had missed them. So I didn’t fight Wade too much when he asked “nicely”, aka demanded , he tag along while I ran errands for Al. She was the last person I had to visit for the day so I allowed him to drag me to a bar after I dropped her meds off. Logan had a dark look in his eyes when he saw Wade clutch my hand. “The old man is just jealous. He wishes someone would take him out, but he doesn’t do well in crowds, very bitey.” I smirked and let Wade choose our destination. His hand was steady around mine, giving it occasional squeezes as we rushed across busy streets. The bar he picked was properly seedy, full to the brim with haggard men with face tattoos. Normally, I would have run screaming from a place like this. But Wade was clearly well liked. He moved through the room, smiling and waving at everyone. He tried introducing me to some people but it was hard to keep their names straight. We found an empty booth tucked behind the row of pool tables. I eased onto the sticky laminate bench as Wade headed to the bar to get our drinks. I listen to the men next to my seat argue over who was supposed to break for their next game of pool while I waited.
Wade returned with my drink, a neon green one for him, and two small shot glasses. I eyed them suspiciously as he passed me one of the whipped cream topped shots. “I thought it was only right to start our date with a blowjob.” I coughed on my laugh, examining the glass. He tapped his against mine before downing it and I followed his lead. It was pure sugar, nearly masking the burn of the alcohol.
“Whoever made this has clearly never given a blow job. Way too sweet.” Wade grinned in that mischievous way he always seemed to when he was going to be especially gross. I had no idea why I was being so forward. But I felt light, happy. All my worries from work had melted away as Wade held my hand on our way here.
“Oh yeah? I’ve been told my cum is rather delicious. It’s all the pineapple I eat.” I rolled my eyes and matched his grin, propping my elbows on the table, head cradled between my hands.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat a single fruit. Or a vegetable honestly.” Wade copied my pose, fluttering his nonexistent eyelashes.
“How about you taste mine and I taste yours?” I pretended to contemplate, eyes scrunching, head tilting from side to side. My hand inched across the table before I plucked the cherry from Wade’s drink. He saw me, I could tell by the minute flick of his gaze, but he let me take it regardless. I yanked it from the stem with my teeth and chewed thoughtfully.
“Hm, I’m not sure. Don’t you think Al would talk if you were moaning my name so much?” He grabbed my wrist and dragged my hand closer. My breath caught as his lips enveloped my index finger and thumb. His tongue lazed over them before he drew back, the cherry stem between his teeth.
“Sweetie pie, I moan it enough as is.” I blushed and my stomach grew warm. The stem disappeared, his jaw moving. “I haven’t been able to convince the old bastard to dress like you yet. But he lets me pretend.” I took a big gulp of my drink and glanced away. The patrons were starting to get more boisterous. Their shouts echoed off the peeling wallpapered walls as they called for more rounds or catcalled some of the working girls. I watched as a pretty blonde walked off with two men. Would Wade and Logan take turns? Or would they pin me between them, spreading me open on both of their- “Jealous?” My head whorled back to him but only found a knowing glint in his eyes.
“Shut up,” I growled and took another deep drink. Wade’s tongue lolled out, in the center was a perfectly knotted stem. I shifted in my seat. This was not how I had intended the night to go. I wanted just a drink, conversation, and then home for a long awaited rest. But here I was, squirming at the mere sight of Wade’s tongue. “Impressive,” I mumbled. I reached across the table and plucked the stem from him. It looked like he was going for another kiss but my hand drew back too fast.
“I know it’s impressive. Just spelling out my name gets it all twisted like that.” I rolled my eyes with a smirk.
“You didn't strike me as a guy who would spell his name out. I thought you might be a little more creative.” He leaned closer, eyes just a bit too wide.
“Oh? What were you imagining I would do? I have a lot of skills and I’ll use them all on you.” Damn it . I finished off my drink and the booze buzzed down my body as it settled inside me. A small voice in my head reminded me that I needed to pick. That if I went down this road with Wade, I needed to stop visiting Al. But fuck, I craved the feeling of his hands on me. I dreamt of him and Logan anytime I saw them. My brain became more and more depraved as the weeks went on. I could barely look at them sometimes without blushing.
“Wade,” I sighed, twirling my straw in the slowly melting ice. “If we do anything, I have to stop working with Al. It’s a conflict of-“ he held a scarred hand up and my voice died away.
“No work talk. It’s Friday, let me show you a good time.” I sighed again but nodded.
The night passed blissfully. Wade was a strangely great date, much better than any guy I’ve been with recently. He asked me a million questions, ranging from my childhood, food allergies, to my favorite Mexican food. He gave me half joke responses about his own childhood, but gave me enthusiastic answers to everything else . He bought me another drink after he finished his but I was careful to sip mine slowly. The last thing I needed was a hangover. He also brought some greasy fries and I dove into them gratefully. We played one round of pool, which he won by only a few points. Then he promptly annihilated me in darts. “So unfair,” I groaned. “You do this for a living, I would have never won.”
“I thought you being sexy would distract me enough. Strip, then you’ll win.” I had that pleasant buzz running through me so his words just made me giggle.
“Maybe I’ll take you up on that.” I held up my hand to cut off his next words. “Not now you horny bastard.” He pouted, lip stuck a full inch off his face. I playfully plucked at it. “Pout all you want. You gotta put more effort in to get me naked.”
That was perhaps the wrong choice of words because he bent down, his lips colliding with mine. I gasped but grabbed at his sweatshirt, clinging to him. He kissed like he wanted to eat me, all tongue and spit. He tasted as sweet as candy from the bright cocktails he had. It made my head swirl, skin heat. His hands moved to my hips and traced the sliver of exposed skin before they dove into my back pockets, and jerked me closer. I moaned into him as I felt the hard ridge in his pants pressed against my hip. The few whoops from our onlookers made me pause. “Probably not the best place.” Wade’s voice was a little husky, lips still close enough to mine that they moved with his words.
“No,” I mumbled. But neither of us disentangled from each other. “I should probably go home.” Wade sighed and straightened. He nodded, tucking a loose lock of hair behind my ear.
“Fuck you look gorgeous.” His voice was barely audible under the conversations and the music. I opened my mouth to say something but he cut me off. “I gotta hit the head then I’ll take you home.” He removed my hands from his sweatshirt, but still held one as he guided me to where the bathrooms were, situated at the end of a long hallway. “Wait here, don’t get too many men drooling over you.” Once he disappeared into the men’s room, I let out a breath. He was overwhelming, equal parts sweet, filthy, and ridiculous. The last thing I wanted to do was be responsible. To go home and ignore all the things he made me feel. I had already gone too far, what were a couple more steps? I bit at my thumb nail and watched the bathrooms intently. I didn’t see any women come or go into theirs. I scanned the bar and only found a handful of them. I knew I would have it mostly to myself.
Cautiously, as if I was somehow breaking a law, I walked down and into the women’s bathroom. It was empty, mostly clean, and smelled fine. Which I’m sure is more than I could say about the men’s. I propped myself against the wall in the hallway, waiting for Wade to emerge again. Two men passed before I saw him. “Aw, I don’t need an escort out of this creepy hallway.” I roughly grabbed his shirt, and backed into the still empty bathroom. “Oh wow, the promised land.”
I slammed him against the door, far too rough from nerves, but his face lit up nevertheless, a little excited laugh escaping him. “How about you show me those skills you talked about, yeah? Consider this a trial period before I let you fuck my brains out.” He didn’t need to be told twice. He hauled my body tight against his, lips crashing against mine again. This time, I gave into his kisses completely, his teeth tugging at my lips. There was a pinch of pain each time but it only made me claw at his neck harder. Judging by the groan he let out, I think I broke through skin. His tongue prodded its way into my mouth and I moaned loudly against him. His hands slid all over my body before they hooked behind my knees and he carried me to the counter. He lifted me like I weighed nothing. My head was beginning to grow fuzzy from our kiss but I refused to part, greedily sucking air from him instead.
Wade was the first to rear back, gulping down lungfuls of air. I wanted to drag him back and kiss him till I was lightheaded again. “Goddamn woman,” he mumbled. I just hummed, moving my desperate kisses to his jaw. My hands crawled up his shirt and littered his torso with scratches. He leaned closer, my head hitting the mirror behind me, as he gripped my hips and dragged me flush against him. My legs curled around his waist, craving the feeling of his hard cock against me.
“Wade,” I whined while I ground my hips against his. I found a particularly sensitive spot just below his ear that made him rasp my name. He cupped the back of my neck, leading me back to his greedy mouth. His thumb brushed along my jaw before his fingers delicately laid across my throat. I arched my neck to give his hand better access to the column of muscle. But his hands slipped from me entirely so he could shove my shirt over my breasts. He buried his face between them, peppering the skin with long, sucking kisses. “ Wade,” I moaned, hips bucking desperately against him, “I need you to fuck me.” His hand went to my jeans, pulling the button free and easing the zipper down. I yelped when his teeth captured a bit of flesh and bit down, hard . But the sting of pain only made me crave him more. Finally his hand plunged under my jeans and into my underwear.
“So wet all ready,” he hummed, biting at more of my skin. He drifted over my clit in loose, but firm circles. With his free hand, he worked the cup of my bra down and captured my nipple in his mouth. I thursted against his hand in an attempt to get him to do more, to bend me over this sink and fuck me like I knew he wanted to. Instead, he traced the tip of his finger over my entrance and had the nerve to chuckle when I tried to force it inside.
“ Jesus, Wade , stop teasing me.” My voice was airy, tinged with desire. His teeth glanced across my nipple and I nearly wailed. “Wade!” My nails went to his head and dug into his scalp, heels digging into his ass in annoyance.
“I love the way you say my name, pretty girl.” His finger drove into me, pumping in and out quickly. He sucked one last bruise onto the top of my breast before he was kissing and licking back up my neck.
“ More , Wade,” I panted, “you aren’t going to break me.” He laughed, the sound sending goosebumps across my feverish skin. Another finger worked its way into me and my eyes rolled back at the stretch, a sigh catching in my throat. His thumb moved into more controlled figure eights. My legs trembled around him as he crooked his fingers inside, hunting for that spongy spot inside me. “Wade, oh fuck.”
“God you moan so nice for daddy Wade.” Something between a laugh and a sob of pleasure bubbled up from my chest. Heat oozed through my body, settled deep in my stomach.
“I’m not gonna call you that. Ah, keeping doing that, so good.”
“Are you going to call Logan daddy when he makes you wiggle like this?” He found his mark and stroked the spot deep inside me with complete focus. My hips bore down on his hand, chasing for the orgasm I sensed. “ Aww seems like you like the idea. You’re sucking me in so much.” He bit more bruises on my neck, tongue lapping at the skin after to soothe the ache. “I can’t wait to see you stretched on his big dick.”
I whimper, the tension inside me near breaking point. “Yours first.” The coil finally snapped. My eyes squeezed shut as a stream of his name and half gasps fell from my chapped lips. His free hand pinned my hip to the counter to stop its wild jerks. He scattered soft kisses across my face and cheeks as he worked me through my orgasm. It seemed to last an eternity and the waves of bliss made my body tingly.
Eventually, my body relaxed and slumped against the mirror, chest heaving. Wade’s fingers remained in me, lazily plunging inside. Now that the haze had passed, I could hear just how wet I was. The lewd noises echo off the cramped bathroom’s tiles. “Wade,” I mumbled, tugging weakly at his wrist. “You should get to fucking me now.”
“ Ew , how about you guys don’t. Do you know how dirty it is in here?” I jumped at the voice, scrambling to cover myself. Wade shifted himself to block me from view as I did. His fingers withdrew with a pop that made my face heat even more. The woman idly scrolled on her phone to give us privacy. My bra was fixed, shirt back over my chest, in record time.
Wade was fine to let us wait it seemed. His sticky fingers lingered on my stomach, running over the curves and stretch marks, before he buttoned up my pants. “Okay sugar bean, let’s get you home.” He helped me off the counter, my weak legs wobbling just a bit. He kept his firm arm around me for support anyways. I had half a mind to think it was just to keep touching me. I didn’t mind and leaned into his side, head against his chest.
The night was cool, the slight bite of oncoming autumn in the crisp air, and I breathed it in. My head felt clearer with each one. I went to pull away first, to tell him that I would see him on Monday, but he kept walking. “Where are we going?”
“Gonna take you home.” I blinked.
“How do you know this is the way to my place?” He made a noncommittal noise and shrugged.
“Is some light stalking a turn off?” I knew I was crazy, absolutely insane, because all I did was beam up at him and cling closer. We made our way to my apartment in long winding segments. First the train where he pulled my legs over his and kissed at my wind whipped cheeks. Then a stop at a late night burger chain where Wade promptly drowned his in ketchup. We walked slowly to my apartment, hand in hand. Exhaustion had finally reached me and my feet dragged behind me. The night had only grown colder, breath misting in front of our faces. I was wearing a light jacket as I anticipated being home before the drop in temperature. I drew Wade’s arm closer, pressing it against my chest, clinging to the bit of heat. “You know, if we were both naked you would be warmer.” I rolled my eyes.
“That’s absolutely not how that works. Also, my place is just around the corner.” We only had to walk a few more steps before I saw the familiar entrance to my apartment. Wade followed me to my door, leaning against the rail, waiting for me to fish my keys out of my purse. Once I had them in hand, I also tugged my phone from my pocket. “I don’t have your number.” I oddly felt shy, like this was too much of a leap. It felt more official like this. When I held it out for him, he took it eagerly, fingers tapping quickly. Then he kept typing. I peered down at my phone and saw him adding information for Asshole GILF, surrounded by an assortment of hearts. Quite frankly, I didn’t even know Logan had a phone, I had never seen him with it.
My stomach dropped when I saw Wade open a conversation with Logan and began typing. I was only able to read the words horny and get it up before I snatched my phone back. “Oh my god Wade!” I rapidly deleted the text, refusing to read anymore of his nonsense sexting. “I would prefer Logan to not think I’m trying to jump his bones.”
“Aw come on! Live a little. Logan loves people who come on too strong, especially on his face.”
“I think you are probably the exception, Wade. Logan doesn’t seem to want much to do with me.” His cold palms cupped my cheeks and drew me closer.
“I’m gonna let you in on a little secret, just you and me, yeah?” I nod, arms encircling his waist. The warmth of his chest spread into mine. “Logan dreams about you. He growls your name. He humps me in his sleep like a teenage boy. Then he wakes up and fucks me for hours.” My face heated at his words. I could feel him getting hard against my hip. “He wants you so bad it makes him crazy.” He pushed against me, just the slightest bit. “ I want you so bad it makes me crazy.” I realized that I never repaid the favor at the bar before being interrupted.
“Do you want to come upstairs?” Wade smirked, kissing the apples of each cheek then my nose.
“No, I’m gonna surprise Logan. He’ll go nuts when he smells you on me.” I blinked in confusion. I didn’t smell that bad, did it? “He has enhanced senses,” he explained. “He’ll be able to smell your cum on my fingers from outside the apartment.”
“Oh god,” I mumbled, stuck between embarrassment and arousal. “Okay, well, don’t keep Al up.”
“She has ear muffs.” I shook my head, chuckling at the absurdity. Wade pecked at my lips but didn’t allow me more. “Goodnight baby girl. Make sure you text me so I know who you are. So many crazy fangirls, you wouldn’t believe it.”
“Uh huh,” I teased, finding the key fob for my building. Wade left one lingering kiss on my forehead before giving me a nudge toward my door. The scanner beeped, door releasing with a click. I wedged the door open before it could lock again. “Goodnight, see you Monday.” I blew him a kiss before the door clicked behind me as I went to the elevator. I reached for my phone and searched for Wade in my contact list. Of course I found him listed as Bootycall . Instead of solely hearts, his name was circled by eggplants and hearts.
Me: you have to send me a picture for your profile. I could have missed you
The elevator dinged and the door slid open. I traced my usual route to my apartment, jiggling the lock open with my key. My phone buzzed on the counter as I set it down to toe off my shoes and hang my coat up.
Bootycall: once I’m done with Logan, I’ll send pictures for the both of us.
Bootycall: Do you have other fuckbuddies? How could you? We should be the only ones for you
I woke up late the next day to two pictures. One was blurry, but the brown hair and a pointy white tooth told me it was Logan. It seemed Wade had tried to sneak it and was caught. The picture of Wade nearly made me faint. Pearly white beads of cum were splattered across his face and dripped off his exposed tongue.
Me: I can’t possibly make that your contact picture
Bootycall: you’re right! Make it your background!
#deadpool#deadpool x reader#deadpool smut#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine x reader#deadpool x wolverine x reader#deadpool fanfic#wolverine fanfic#marvel fanfic#marvel smut#wade wilson#wade wilson x reader#wade wilson smut#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#deadpool x you#deadpool x f! reader#deadpool x you smut#wolverine x you#wolverine x f! reader#logan howlett x fem!reader#wade wilson x fem!reader#deadpool 3#I had to do some literal market research to find out what people are tagging their fics as lmao#wolverine x fem!reader#deadpool x fem!reader#wolverine
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Image description: a lipstick print. Description ends.
Can you get STDs from kissing?
Someone asked us:
What STD’s/diseases are transmitted through JUST kissing? How can you prevent giving/receiving them?
Only one STD can be transmitted through regular ol’ smoochin’: oral herpes. There’s a lot of fear and misinformation floating around out there about herpes, but I promise it’s not as scary as it may sound.
There are two different, but similar, types of herpes: herpes simplex virus type 1 (HSV-1) and herpes simplex virus type 2 (HSV-2). HSV-1 is the type that usually causes oral herpes — also known as cold sores. When someone gets herpes through kissing, it’s almost always HSV-1. Nearly two-thirds of people on the planet have HSV-1 — that’s literally billions of people. Many get it as a kid from a peck on the lips from a family member.
One of the most important things to know is that, for almost everyone who is living with it, oral herpes is really not a big deal at all. Even though herpes stays in your body for life, the symptoms (if you have any) are harmless. You may get small sores in or around your mouth every once in a while, but that’s pretty much the only symptom. Many people find their outbreaks get shorter and less noticeable as time goes on. Some people only have one outbreak their whole life. And sometimes people don’t show or notice any symptoms at all — in fact, most people who have herpes don’t even know it.
As far as prevention goes, the only real way to guarantee that you’ll never get herpes through kissing is to … never kiss anybody on the lips, ever. Because herpes is SO common, and many people don’t even know they have it, it’s impossible to totally eliminate your herpes risk without avoiding kissing altogether. Obviously kissing is a pretty popular activity, so the choice is up to you if the risk of cold sores is worth it.
If you already have oral herpes, the best way to prevent passing it on is to avoid lip contact with others whenever you have cold sores or think you might be getting an outbreak. This means don’t kiss anybody on the lips, don’t share eating utensils, and avoid touching the sores (if you get fluid from the sores on your hands you can spread the virus to others or to different parts of your body). It’s also possible to pass HSV-1 to someone’s genitals. So if you have a cold sore, avoid giving oral sex to anyone or use a condom or dental dam. Herpes can spread even when you don’t have sores, so there’s no surefire way to guarantee for sure that you won’t give oral herpes to someone you kiss. But try not to stress out — so many people are living with oral herpes. The odds are high that the person you’re kissing already has it, too.
-Kendall at Planned Parenthood
#rated PG-13#originally posted on May 4 2018 by PlannedParenthood#PlannedParenthood#sexually transmitted infections#kissing#safer sex#screen reader friendly#queue#content warning#sex education#herpes#dental dam#condom
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I can't say I'm a fan of the increasing trend of romance novels and fanfic having characters bring the action to a screeching halt right before having sex to establish that they've recently been tested for STIs and came back negative, but if it's going to stick around I do think we should at least be realistic with it. statistically speaking, at least one of your protagonists probably has herpes and/or HPV. write like it!
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