#so I kind of. have no idea what's going on

[simpjaes]

SWEET LITTLE MONEY MAKER. ― S.JY

When your best friend quite literally gifts you an entire man, you realize that you’re in no place to pretend that you don’t love it.  or the one where you’re very much an “i don’t need a man” type of person, and Jake shows you that you do, in fact, need a man….him, you specifically need him. Only because he needs you. 

MDNI! reblogs help writers, so please show your support through a reblog! PAIRING ― stripper!sim jaeyun x rich!afab reader

WORDCOUNT― 13.6k

CONTENT―  he’s a switch and desperately wants to be ur sugar baby, you’re a boring rich bitch who has no interest at first, masturbation, reader is kind of power-hungry, jake chokes her NOTE ― if you’ve read this before, specifically for jeno, hi. that was written by me back in 2022 except now it’s way better and not an absolute trash-fire. enjoy! not proof read kind of.

nsfw tags under cut::

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

NSFW TAGS― jake is a stripper so obv dancing and stripping, HE’S VERY SWITCH BUT MOSTLY SUBBY HERE, hand job, masturbation, choking without permission, finger fucking, making out, protected sex omg GASP, slight nipple play, riding, lil bit of stomach bulge, sensitive cock continues to get fucked lmfao

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It was a gift, or rather, he was the gift.

A downpayment of six hundred dollars told you enough about the man. It’s obvious he offers his services to lonely, sad, rich women who have no one else to spend their money on. A parasite, a leech, is what he is. Yet, still, your best friend has been taunting you with the idea for months in an attempt to have you give the guy a try.

She had apparently heard of the infamous Jake through various means. All rich women, all lonely and unsatisfied women. Which, to you only seems like a fucking insult to be taunted with the very idea of hiring this man. What is she implying? That you’re lonely and unsatisfied? Please.

Some best friend. Then again, she has since experienced Jake herself, and now her taunting feels more like…promises. 

“He’s so clean, toned, and oh god–” She had paused with a flush across her cheeks as she thought back to the heated night. “The way he moves, shit, he teases so much. I could have died right then and there if he were to–” 

The expression of disinterest on your face did not halt her doting, nor did the blatant grimace you eventually shot at her. Genuinely, you cannot take her seriously. Already you know too much about her, which is nice and all, but you could do without the details of her little stripper friend and how “wet” he left her. 

“I even heard that sometimes he even gives special treatments with his services…” She had rolled her eyes after she said that, almost looking offended. “Not that I'd know or anything, he took my cash and left when our session was up.” 

You recall knowing exactly what that “treatment” probably entailed, and the reason your best friend didn’t get it was likely due to the fact that she’s, well, not that rich. You’d assume such an expensive man wouldn’t give special treatments to women who wouldn’t end up being repeat customers anyway. Or, maybe, he just wasn’t trying to drain her dry. 

And even with all of the information being dangled in front of your face, practically force fed to you, the image should be more delicious than the century-old wine you have every night at dinner– for the entire duration of her doting compliments of Jake, you are simply not fucking interested. There’s other things to do in life, more to worry about than getting your body excited for someone who will never finish the job. 

Last week was when your bestie told you all about her single night with him. In fact, her entire visit was just her speaking of him, of how great he is, of how alluring he is. Arguably, you see that she’s a bit obsessed. Does it make you curious? Maybe a little bit, but not enough to actually give him a go yourself. And so, after that visit, you watched her leave with a menacing, evil little glint in her eye. You ignored it, as per usual considering she’s always up to something, unaware that the visit she lends to you today is not a complimentary marketing campaign of a male stripper, no, it’s a fucking ambush. 

When she appeared at your doorstep, she said nothing. She didn’t even look you in the eye, actually. Weird.  She did, however, have an envelope in her hand and you were almost offended at how she threw it at you and trotted away without a single greeting or goodbye. No afternoon lunch over champagne, no gossip, no advertising. Just an envelope. 

Suspicious.

Upon opening said envelope, you find that your bitch of a best friend dropped that six hundred dollar down payment, likely in an attempt to force you out of being the stick in the mud that you always are. There’s a note. Your name in bold letters, a date, a time, and a signature of none other than “Jake Sim” with a fucking website on the back. 

Shortly after huffing and rolling your eyes, about two seconds from tossing her six hundred dollars in the trash, you feel your phone ping to show your best friend texting you. 

Best Friend: I paid for it, you just have to tip him. a lot. tip him a lot. You: why the fuck would you buy a stripper for me?

Best Friend: you need it, trust me. 

So, now here you are waiting for that knock on your door and wondering why you even tried to look nice for some dude that’s about to swing his meat in your face. Appearance, reputation, whatever. Fucking unbelievable, you think, that there’s a stripper out there that only does private parties and your own best friend thinks you need it? You could have any dick you want, why the fuck should you have to pay just to look? 

He’s going to be expecting more than just you here, alone in your house. Surely, he won’t be expecting to waltz into someone’s home all oiled up only to find one very disinterested woman. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

To your dismay, Jake has apparently already been warned of you. Your best friend probably told him that you’re a nightmare, too difficult to fluster or gain an interest from. The first words out of his mouth when you opened your door was “She said you’d give me that look.”

Still, even so, your best friend wasn’t lying to him. You played the part of yourself all too well as you watched him saunter into your home as if he owned the place. You’re impressed actually, with the way he doesn’t seem to feel out of place in such a lavish room. He looks…comfortable here as he scopes out his stage for the night, like he belongs. 

“Big place, looked smaller on the outside.” He says casually, filling the silence in the room since you make no attempt yourself to greet him. 

You watch as he tosses his bag beside your living room couch and eyes the spacious area just in front of the large fireplace. His eyes flick to the windows, to the walls, counting the outlets and looking for shelves with space. 

“The smaller the better, sometimes it feels too big in here for just me.” You finally speak, admitting a small weakness of yours almost immediately. You are lonely, despite never wanting to admit it. And you watch as he shrugs, now crouching to grab wires from his bag. 

“Oh yeah?” He glances at you. “Must get lonely. What a good friend to purchase me to help you with that.”

You bite the inside of your cheek at that, noting his calm and cool tone as he talks his business. The little smirk at the corner of his lips is charming, but it’s all for show. He’s just a pretty man, that’s all he’s got going for him and you guess you can respect the hustle. 

“This was not my doing.” You cross your arms, pretending to be unimpressed. 

“Yeah, yeah–” He waves you off as he begins to set up, making space for small lights to set the mood, looking to see if you have a sound system he can use. “I already know that you’re new to this.” He’s still calm, still collected.

“Lucky for you, first-timers are my favorite to entertain.” He smirks again, now looking directly at you as he, now, fluffs some of your couch pillows. 

Your curiosity spikes again only for a moment. You really did think that the initial meeting would be different, less casual. You half expected him to waltz in cock swinging. Wasn’t he, like, supposed to pretend to be a cop or something? You know, show up and press play on a magical stereo that didn’t exist beforehand and start vibrating on you? 

Instead, he’s just setting up…fully clothed in a ratty sweater with jeans that hug his thighs. He doesn’t appear at all to be a man that gets paid to take his clothes off. It makes you wonder. Makes you want to ask questions. Then again, you still have no interest in learning about him considering you already know exactly what he will be doing soon enough. 

“You’re good with the mood lighting, yeah? Or do you prefer the morgue lighting?” His eyes shoot up to the bright white lights on your ceiling as he goes for his laptop now, presumably to connect it to your very obvious sound system.

You only take slight offense to his comment on your living room lighting, considering you have a control panel that can make them way less blinding, but– he’s right. And now you’re a little insecure that you prefer such a drab color in your home. You make your way to the wall, clicking the buttons on the panel just to prove you have warm lighting too, and that you can adjust the brightness. 

“Ah, perfect.” Jake hums from across the room, eyes focused on his laptop screen before glancing to you and your extravagant light switch. “A little lower.” He guides you, knowing exactly which lighting accentuates his toned body the best when paired with his own little LED colored lights. 

You turn the knob slightly, wondering just how good he must be at dancing in houses like this one. 

“Little more.” He smiles

You dim the lighting more, looking at him and his relaxed posture. 

“Right there.” He finishes in a more gentle tone, eyes focusing back on his laptop as he prepares not only the playlist but the mood lighting from his end too. Red. Lots of red.

And you just watch, his voice ringing in your ears as you try to pretend that your best friend wasn’t right. Even with just this casual set up…he’s…goddamn, he’s alluring. In that ratty old sweater, with his messy hair and pretty smile. 

Stunning. 

This motherfucker is stunning. 

“Go and sit–” Jake says now, nodding to your couch as he places his laptop down, presumably done with the set up. “Just tell me where I can get myself ready and I’ll be back out shortly.” 

You point towards the guest bathroom as you take your seat on the couch, unsure as to why your hands feel so clammy. And by the time he rounds the corner and you can hear the bathroom door shut, you attempt to make yourself comfortable. 

And goddammit, no matter how many times you’ve napped here on this plush and soft surface, you can’t find the comfort here right now. The curiosity of why you’re okay with this burns in your gut despite knowing exactly why. Despite the fact that your best friend can always see straight through you and know exactly what you are. 

At the end of the day though, why the curiosity exists isn’t what matters. It’s the curiosity itself. You want to know how much money Jake makes doing this, if he likes doing it, how he got started, what he does to advertise himself in a way to only find women like you, and many other things. Countless things. He’s hot as hell, actually, and how he’s come to do this kind of work is either one of two things. One being that he’s using what the Gods gave him to the fullest. Two, being that he had no other choice. 

If he’s going to be paid to give you attention, the least you can hope is that he does it because he enjoys it, not because he has to do it. And if it does end up being because he has to do it, then perhaps his tip would be even larger than what you’d give for the ladder. 

You’re uncomfortable. 

The fact looming that you genuinely could go out and find a man at any given moment, yet here you are with a man forced upon you because you simply won’t do it. The implications of this man being here, why he’s here, how he ended up in this situation. 

You’ve never been one to care, so why start now? 

“You overthink too much.” Your best friend had said to you once, twice, hundreds of times during your friendship.  Maybe she’s right, maybe you should just enjoy the show without feeling entitled to a slutty man’s life story.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake remains in the bathroom for a good thirty or so minutes, each of them passing like a nightmare in your head. Back and forth your brain goes, from not wanting to be in this situation to fighting yourself for being such a fucking bore. A very, very attractive man is primping himself for you to look at, he’s going to come out and do his best to turn you on, the least you can do is let yourself enjoy something for once. Enjoy him. Gawk and fawn over him. After all, at least you know there’s no promise to be had after he leaves. 

No missed calls, no blocked numbers. This is business. 

Fucking thankfully, the moment he comes out of your bathroom your mind has adjusted itself into the correct state of mind for this. A torturous adventure of thoughts, but you made it nonetheless. You actually can’t even look away from him now that he’s revealed himself, even when you tried. He isn’t dressed in anything that looks tacky or cheap. Hell, he doesn’t even look sexual. He just looks…

Expensive. 

Jake genuinely looks like this is a place where he belongs. He smells like he belongs here, walks and murmurs like it too. 

You feel yourself physically react to him in his blazer and dress pants. Business is what got you to where you are today, but never have you found the attire sexy in any way until now. The suit looks much like what your team would wear day to day in the office. Always all those shy men coming into your office, stuttering through their questions and need for approvals. Jake isn’t stuttering in his suit though, he’s standing confidently at his laptop as if he hasn’t even noticed you staring yet. 

One look from him though is all he needed. Choosing this attire for someone like you is sure to mix both business and pleasure. It was a gamble of course, to bring your work home for you, but he does have the slight hope that you’ll never look at a man in a suit the same way again after this. 

And goddamn the way his abs were glistening in the dim lighting before he had turned away from you. His blazer was partially open revealing nothing but skin when he walked into the room, and you honestly wonder if he even needed to do that. He could be fully clothed at this point and you think the room would still feel hotter than usual given your mind-state. 

The way his belt held his pants on his hips was enough to have you thinking, looking as if it’s begging to be unbuckled just so the sound of it could fill your ears. The way the blazer widens his shoulders much more than the sweater from before. He looks bigger right now, both physically and in aura. 

The scent of him wafted off of him in an even prettier way when paired with his image. He smells like a sweet type of musk, something you’d be interested in drinking alongside your dinner on special occasions. And under the assumption that the scent is why his abs are fucking glistening– fucking body oil. He uses body oil for this.

His hair rustles about when he turns to face you again, this time with the bass of whatever song he’s playing accentuating each step towards you. So…the talking is done then? Your cheeks heat up at how quickly he starts his session with you, even without a single roll of his body. Already, you could eat him alive, the smirk on his face leading your eyes straight to him. 

Trailing down, down down. To his neck, that small glimpse of exposed chest, to the even more exposed lower abdomen section. His belt.

“Good?” He asks, leaning over you and placing his hands on either side of your head as he grips the couch.

You can’t look up at him, eyes training on his chest that you can now fully see through his single buttoned blazer. That same sweet musk assaulting your lungs. 

Watching you from up here, Jake can tell you’re going to be fun to play with. A woman with such a harsh exterior now melting at the mere image of him when he’s got the right lights on him. To be fair, he really was warned and prepared by your friend, which didn’t seem the type to afford him on more than one occasion.

He thought it was nice that she paid for another session, shocking him to learn that it wasn’t for herself at all. What a wonderful friend, and what a bitch you’d be to have turned him away. 

Finally, you nod to him, still eyeing his body in a shameful show of how much you genuinely did need this. What’s so bad about paying to look? Especially when the man is Jake, and he’s presenting himself like this.

“Rule number one.” Jake smiles, swaying in front of you as his grip tightens against the couch, wanting you to feel trapped and hopefully mesmerized by him, “I only accept bills of twenty, fifty, and one hundred. If you toss a fucking dollar, I’m leaving.” 

That’s clearly not an issue you could fathom having, despite your internal protests. You only carry bigger bills anyway so you nod to him, quickly forgetting he even shared that ridiculous rule that would never apply to you by means of watching his hips swirl rather than sway. You see the heaviness in his pants, and you wonder if he gets himself hard for these little shows. 

You fear looking up at his face now too, because you know he’s staring down at you, watching your every breath, every move. 

“Rule number two,” He lends down now, lowering his voice and blowing against your ear in a short breath. “Don’t touch me without being invited, or without asking.”

Now, that’s a rule that applies to you only because you immediately want to defy it. There’s a knee jerk reaction almost that makes you want to reach out, to grip his flexing body and pull it closer. You wanted to feel how slick his skin is with that wonderfully scented oil. You wanted the scent on your fingers for later, you wanted to feel how warm he must be. 

He doesn’t wait for your nod this time though, already noticing a familiar look on your face that he gets from most, if not all, of his clients. This is why he’s so in demand, after all. If he plays hard to get, sometimes he gets more out of his sessions. Sometimes he even gets a repeat client. 

“And rule number three–” He continues, this time pulling back and positioning his face in front of yours. This rule appears to be an important one, the rule where you need to look at his face rather than his body. As if it needs to be heard. “I won’t touch you unless you ask– or beg.” 

What you’re not realizing at this moment is that rule number three isn’t something he often speaks of. Sometimes, very rarely, Jake is in a mood when he goes out on a job. Condoms are always with him, just in case, but he never intends to use them or utter rule number three until meeting said client. They pay to look at him, not to touch him, however…if they pique his interest he surely offers the third rule. 

And if a client never hears of it, they know that even if they ask to touch, he would never. Even if they want him to touch, he wouldn’t touch anywhere too pleasurable. 

Meaning, you were right to assume what he was doing in your bathroom for so long. His hand felt better than usual against his length for the split second he had of tucking it into the most attractive position. He knew instantly that tonight was one of those nights, and you were to be a point of his own desire too. He played with himself for a bit, allowing himself to get half hard before coming out of the bathroom.

The way you looked at him finished the job, allowing his cock to grow to full attention at the mere sight of you fawning over him in silent discomfort. So– yeah, the third rule being for you was a given. 

And when you swallow around a lump in your throat and look dead into his eyes, he thinks you know exactly what he means too. You’re lucky his cock is acting up, hell, he’s lucky it’s acting up. Look at you, fuck. Those tired eyes look ignited, and what luck the two of you have to have ever known your best friend. 

“Deal?” He finally says, tilting his head cutely and waiting for you to nod. And you do nod, just as he suspected you would. Slowly, before glancing down at his body again. 

He knows now that it’s time to start moving. Really moving.

“Is the song okay?” He asks, now pulling back and bracing himself against the back of your couch with all of his strength. “It was picked specifically for you.”

You’re not entirely what he means by that, but you assume your friend must have told him what she thinks you’d like. 

“It’s fine.” You say, glancing away from his direct eye contact and suddenly feeling like a love-struck puppy in the way you feel so incredibly fucking shy because of him.

Jake notes that you didn’t ask what he meant by the song, but he doesn’t push. He’s better at talking with his body anyway. So, he begins to focus. Opting to start slowly and work his way up, specifically to work you up. 

He steps back and away from the couch, centering himself in your living room as he closes his eyes and stretches his arms up to loosen his body a little more. Most of his clients love to see the way his muscles move as he stretches, and he suspects you’re of the same mind. 

This entire playlist is chosen for clients like you. The ones he intends to let see all of him if they so wish to. The music is slow, the bass is strong, and each beat runs through the body in a way that makes him shiver. He can move as if he’s fucking you even from across the room without so much as a touch, and he knows you’ll realize it.

He’s at his best too, when this sort of thing happens to him. The eye contact is more intense, his hips are more pointed for a reason other than payment, and arguably he feels he’s most attractive like this too. Considering the countless times he’s been paid to dance and expose himself to women he’d never even look at twice, it always hits differently when a client is just his type. 

And when he looks at you through the start of his dance, you appear to be painfully stiff against that soft couch. He smirks, a small chuckle rumbling from his chest. If only you knew how lucky you are, knowing his clients would be on their knees for a chance to experience him like this. 

The fact that it’s your first time doing this…he’d be smart to not pull this shit on you. He’s never tried this with a new client, after all but–fuck, just look at you.

Jake’s hips move on their own for the most part, he doesn’t have to think much when he’s getting into it. He easily dances along to the music for you, as if it’s second nature to him despite not yet removing any clothing. It’s the build-up for him now, and he thinks it may be that for you too. Of course, if he leaves your house tonight with a large tip in his pocket and a hard, untouched cock, that’s fine too, though not preferable. 

You watch him the same way he watches you, after all, the electricity for this to play out is there. It’s rare that he can feel goosebumps raise on his skin by a mere look from a woman that looks far too powerful despite sitting there helpless. He’s making you helpless, the dim lighting of this room accentuating his body is making you helpless. 

And truly, you find yourself understanding with each shadow on his stomach as to why he’s so favored in the groups of lonely women. Arguably, you’re shocked your best friend decided to share him.

As the song begins to fade, Jake readjusts himself. He watches you during the brief silence, a sort of fondness in his eyes making you wonder if he’s looking at you or if he does this for everyone. It feels intimate with the way his eyes slowly scan your body in the quiet room. As if the silence doesn’t need to be filled with anything other than eye contact.

For him though, a woman has never met his eye between songs. Typically, their eyes are glued to his chest, cock, hands, and neck– never his eyes. They’re muttering, moaning, or shouting for him to hurry up, that the clock is ticking and they want to see more. But not you. Even as the next song plays, your eyes stay focused on his until he looks away and starts closing the distance. He skews his body now, allowing you to see him in profile. 

In some ways, you have him feeling a bit flustered in the way you keep meeting his eye despite his body making a show for you. He’s never had to act with his face more than he has with you, even as he drops to his knees during a particular part in the song, thrusting his hips forward in an attempt to make you imagine yourself bent over on the floor in front of him. 

He glances to his side, and still you’re searching his face.

He, now, looks back down for a moment, finding himself trying to guide yours somewhere else. He knows his job is to be looked at, to be seen, but this is far too seen for his liking. Thankfully, your eyes do follow his, and you gasp at the way he moves. 

Your mouth falls open, gripping the hem of your dress as you imagine exactly what he intended.

The fact that this is your first time, Jake realizes this is new ground for him too. Typically, he speaks with his body and it appears now, he needs to portray some form of sexuality to you with his eyes. Like the roles are switched, he has to do to you what you’re supposed to be doing to him.

This is new, but warranted. Easy, even, for him to do it because he does want you.

You watch him intently, not fully realizing that you’re barely watching him fuck the air in front of him. Yeah, you see that too, but your eyes always go back to his and now, his own gaze is meeting yours. His gaze is searching your body, watching you move in reaction. From the way your fingers grip at the clothes he’d like to see on the floor later, to the way you slightly rub your legs together in a way that is almost too easy to miss. This alone is enough for him as his eyes burn their gaze into you. Much like you’re supposed to be doing to him.

He’s supposed to be able to look at you and know exactly what you’re thinking. So be it, the least he can do is let you know what he’s thinking. 

Jake’s dance is more intentional now when he leans back on his arms, throwing his head back but keeping his head turned towards you. He tries to show you specifically what he would do to you. That bulge in his pants is large and blatant as he thrusts forward and back to the music. You glance to it, offering the same jittery reactions of arousal. 

And this is when he allows his blazer to slide off of his shoulders, reaching to unbutton that single clasp for it to go sliding to the floor. He continues his movements through it, watching your eyes move to his arms and the strength used to hold himself up, his skin more and more visible to you. You do try to keep eye contact but…well, the way his abs flex when he presses forward, going concave with each inhale of those sensual lips that constantly smirk at you. 

It’s a shame, really, to know that the bulge in his pants will remain there, unseen. 

With his blazer now pooled at his wrists, he regains his focus. He wants you so badly by this point that it’s driving him crazy how hard he’s having to work for it. You’re supposed to be feeling this way, not him. Even if he can see that his routine is causing a reaction from you, he’s practically masturbating himself against the inseam of his pants just to get you to say something to him. 

Meaning, he needs to work harder. The current song is soon to be replaced with another, his favorite to dance to, his favorite to fuck to. And to be fair, by the time this playlist gets to this song on this specific playlist, usually his clients are already shaking under him. Not you though, you’re holding yourself back and he can fucking see it.

He ignores the fact that it’s technically not time for him to move on to his next set of dancing, mostly because he almost never has to get to this part, he leaves his blazer on your floor as he positions himself back on his knees, turning towards you this time and looking you straight in the eyes. The fact that he’s hard and horny is enough to amplify the way he’s looking at you, confidence so high that he’s fine with being seen in any way you want.

He’s slow when he does it, crawling a few steps closer to you. You watch the way his shoulders move in the light, his eyes rounded and cheeky, his hair falling in front of them with a charming movement. It’s not intentional when you rub your legs together at the image yet again, very much wanting to spread them the closer he gets to you. 

You can’t help but think he looks smaller on his hands and knees, eyes looking up at you as if he could eat you whole. You do wonder if your face reads the same for him, with the nervousness hitting you off and on. 

“You’re hot when you look down at me like that.” Jake mutters out of nowhere under the veil of his music, stopping in place in front of you, planting himself right at your feet. “I’d like to touch you, is that okay?”

Nevermind the fact that Jake has never actually had to ask to touch a client before, he really can’t help it at this point. His cock is aching in his pants and he isn’t quite ready to wait an entire playlist worth of songs just to put his clothes back on and leave the door with pain between his legs. He very much wants to fuck something right now, preferably someone.

You.

On the other hand, he’s pleased to see how fucking fast you accept his request. Yes, he can touch you. Fuck, you want him to touch you.

And the whole idea that this is just him doing his job is so far in the back of your mind right now that you almost forget that he probably does this to most of the women he’s paid to entertain. Quite frankly, you don’t give a fuck. You can pretend that he only does this for you, you can live in a fantasy just for a night. 

Jake lends you a smile as the current song finally fades out, the silence back except this time, you’re not looking into his eyes when you nod. 

He’s slow when he places his hand on your knees, rubbing up, up, up until he’s able to lift himself and hover over you. He intentionally pushes your dress up your thighs, solely because he wanted to see you rub them together in full, shameless view for him. He wants to know what his body does for you. What it does to you. 

And he stands, hovering over you for a moment with his hands glued to your thighs before he stares down at them. You just do as he expected, you rub your legs together, you look anywhere but at his eyes now, your hands grip the couch beneath you.

“I’m going to get on top of you,” Jake says now, dipping his head into your line of sight and forcing eye contact again, now gripping the back of the couch rather than your thighs, Just as he did when all of this started. “Would you like that?”

“Do you do this for all of your clients?” You suddenly ask with a smaller voice than you gave him upon opening your door. You breathe in sharply when he moves instead of answering your question immediately. 

He spreads his legs, propping himself right on your lap, facing towards you, letting you feel the warmth of his chest radiating near your face. 

“What kind of answer are you looking for?” He laughs fondly, grabbing your hands and placing them on his chest. “You should touch me, by the way.” He foregoes his own rule with that one, not wanting to wait any longer for you to maybe ask him yourself. “Just pull away if you don’t want to.” He adds, guiding your hands over his chest and down his abdomen.

“You didn’t answer my question–” You interrupt him, feeling the warmth pool and drip into your panties. “It’s a yes or no question.”

He chuckles sweetly, stopping your hands at his abs and holding them there. 

“No,” he admits, moving his focus to the music now that he’s got your hands on him. “I don’t do this for all  of my clients.” 

Jake isn’t sure why he does it, but now he can’t bring himself to look at you. The eye contact feels more intimate than it should with you asking him such a question and demanding an answer. Even as he swirls his hips, feeling his clothed cock rub up and against you every few seconds, it feels almost too intimate. 

“Oh, yeah?” You nervously chuckle back, feeling his muscles move beneath your hand as he thrusts his hips forward. 

“You know,” He mutters, guiding your hands a bit lower despite his own confusion at how much he’s enjoying this moment with you. You feel the cold metal of his belt buckle against your palm and you think he’s going to stop there, like maybe this is just something he does to amp up the show or something, but no. He drags your hand down further until you feel the warmth of his cock under his pants..  

Your pulse quickens as your ears start to ring. Your eyes avoid where your hand is right now, taking in a deep breath and looking up at him with question. He’s not looking back though, instead, his head is dropped and he’s staring at his pathetic bulge against your hand. He’s dancing into it, against it.

“I’ve never gotten this hard over a client that doesn’t want me.” He admits shamefully in a pathetic little laugh, bucking against your palm again to the beat of the song. “I can’t tell if I’m doing my job well enough.”

You feel shocked at that. A client that doesn’t want him? Is he fucking insane?! Then again, you need to be honest with yourself sometimes. You’ve tried to appear as uninterested as possible until he started crawling to you. There is clear attraction, obvious needs swirling in the air right now. You force yourself now to look at your hand with the hefty bulge rubbing desperately against it. The sheer size of him is something entirely different from what you were expecting out of him. This feels forbidden.

Wrong, even, But goddamn. The man is masquerading his dance solely so he can fuck against your right now. Maybe you should show some interest. 

“You’re doing well, Jake,” You finally mutter to him, the first compliment you’ve given since he got here. 

“Yeah?’ He sighs out, relieved as his hips press harder into your palm. Arguably, he’s not even dancing at this point, just trying to get off. “How well?”

Yeah, he’s a little desperate at this point for you to do something on your own. It’s so out of character for him to do all of this just to…well, get off.

“Show me,” He raises his brows, now removing his hands from yours and running them up his chest. His hips continue to move on you, and he watches you as you hold your hand in place. “Come on, the buckle is right there–” he nearly pleads. “You don’t have to be shy.”

Like a book, the two of you read the other at this moment. You’re not a woman of many words and he seems to understand that now, taking your single compliment and running with it. You do as he says, unbuckling his belt and now, sliding your hands up his body to meet his. 

“There you go,” He stresses through another relieved sigh. Leaving your hands where they are against his chest and sliding the belt from his loops on his own. He tosses the belt behind him, relishing in that lost look in your eye.

You clearly have no fucking idea what you’re doing, but you seem to like it. And god, does he fucking love it. Especially when he motions his head back down, forcing your hands back to where they belong and helping you unbutton his pants. 

“Take it out, go on.” He says in a rush, “I’m asking you to do it.”

To be fair, you’re going to do it despite the nervousness in your gut. It’s been so long since you’ve touched a man, and even longer since you wanted to. You could half argue that you feel like you’re about to lose your virginity right now despite all those hook-ups in college. Still, you don’t even nod at him when you do it. Carefully tugging his pants down and watching the weight of his cock do the rest of the work for you. 

His legs spread wider as he points it up at you, a lewd scene, one that feels both disgustingly sexy and very, very, straight forward. You’ve never been like this with any other person. Or rather, no one has ever blatantly shown themselves like this to you. 

And still, Jake just looks at you. So much eye contact becoming more and more comfortable as he learns what you seem to like. He can feel the air in your apartment against the head of his cock, the cool air rushing past his shaft and causing him to shiver with a very quiet moan. He still only looks at you during this moment, wondering why you’ve let your hands fall to his thighs. Then he sees a new look in your eyes.

Are you…waiting to be told what to do? 

For some reason, he keeps forgetting that you’ve never had a stripper in your home before, let alone been seduced by one. Honestly though, he assumed you’d catch on by the point his cock was out. This isn’t for show anymore, he wants you. 

“Touch me?” He asks gently, reaching back down to your hands and urging you to grab his cock. “You don’t even have to move, I can do the rest–” He chokes out a groan mid-sentence as he feels you grasp him in your fist.

Such a silent woman beneath him. He can only read you in specific moments, this one not at all being one of them. You’re hesitant but willing, perhaps? You leave him questioning himself and his own motives, still wondering if that compliment you gave him was genuine or just part of your own little show. 

Yet still, you’re gripping him tightly and allow him to focus his hopes. Dancing beautifully into that little circle your hand creates for him. The best part is that when or if he ever actually dances to this song, it’s when he’s blatantly fucking someone. So the movements come naturally, just as they would if your legs were buckling and your pussy was spread open on him. So, basically, this dance is nothing short of fucking your fist, pretending to keep up an act that he so wishes you’d see through. 

He keeps his face intense, moving his shoulders and arms as if it’s easy for him to turn the tables and position you to where your legs are on his shoulders and he’s rubbing his cock against your, hopefully, soaked panties.  

It’s a struggle though, to not moan out in desperation when you tighten your grip on him. He watches your pupils blow out, and can see the way you’d now probably ask him to do just that. To put it on you, to shove it in you. And so, he slows his hips a bit and catches his breath, staring down at you in wait. 

“You’re really expecting me to get off all on my own?” He finally says in an exasperated breath to your stillness and silence. He really is, trying to act as though he can’t see the look in your eyes and how it’s changed since he started dancing. “Baby, don’t you want it?” He adds, now waiting to see if you’ll move your hand away from him.

You don’t though, to his surprise, you actually start moving your hand on him. You’re jerking him off, staring up at him like you want it, squeezing the head of his cock before dragging those pretty fingers back down. 

Instantly his eyes roll back. “Fuck, that’s good,” He compliments your hand, shaking a bit and shivering at the fact that you really just did that. “Can I stop pretending that I’m still dancing for you now?”  

You find it in yourself to chuckle now, nodding with a confident sort of smile. It hit you fairly quickly, actually, as you watched him chase his pleasure all by himself. He’s so hard, and so incredibly thick in your hand, you’d be stupid to say it didn’t turn you on. It’s that fact that you’ve barely said anything to him and he’s begging you to look at him, to watch him, to touch him. All of your nervousness slowly disappeared because it was being replaced with power. 

Now, that, you’re used to. You know what power feels like in all aspects of the working world, but never at home. Never when sex is involved. You’re always expected to play the part of a desperate woman in need of love, and that’s just not you. No, you’re a powerful woman with nerves that could kill you. And the way Jake parallels your working world, it’s almost too perfect. You’re used to men being beneath you, begging for your money, giving you all of their attention, apologizing for normal human errors. 

Jake isn’t exactly begging you for money, but he’s still begging for your hands. 

“No.” You finally say, relishing in the shock on Jake’s face. “Keep dancing, it’s what you’re being paid to do.”

His eyes fall a bit now as he nods his head. You almost feel his cock falter at the same time at your response, but you move your hand a bit faster. You grip a bit tighter, urging him to do whatever it is that’s on his mind. You want to see if he will actually do as he’s told now, considering you’re the one with the money to bring him back here. 

It’s endearing how he does his best, and honestly, his best probably far surpasses some of the most notable dancers on the market if you had any idea of how they were. It’s just a bit hard to continue this act for him when you’re gripping his cock in such a beautiful way. 

“You’re–” He pauses to hold in a moan, feeling the way you drag your hand in time with his dance. “You’re not going to ask me to touch you?” He finally adds, meeker than before, far less confidence. 

In fact, he’s hiding his face.

You smile in response, looking up at him with dark and wide pupils as you swallow each movement his body makes for you. Your ears are still ringing, unable to comprehend the music blasting in your sound system. Your focus is solely on him, your hands are on him, your confidence is because of him. 

The answer to that question should be a given, after all, shouldn’t he be well aware considering this little stunt he pulled that actions truly speak louder than words?

“No wonder she liked you so much.” You start, now loosening your grip on him just to see the way his hips frantically chase the warmth of your palm.

“Wait–” He asks slightly out of breath, cheeks flushed and bashful. “You really thought, I let her get me off like this?” 

It almost pisses him off that you’d say that to him, then again, it’s not like you knew that this specific instance is rare and reserved for very few clients. 

“You couldn’t even look at me properly thirty minutes ago, now you think you can make assumptions?” He argues, pushing away from you.

Your response is skewing an eyebrow at him, watching him fight for control as he pulls his hips back and shuffles off of you and onto his feet. You glance down at his cock and the way it stands painfully erect, twitching at the sudden lack of friction. 

“Is it wrong to assume when you very clearly want me to make you cum?” 

He stills himself, a blank expression turning to that of a devilish smile, eyes narrowing at you as he leans over you. 

“Are you suggesting that you’ll get me off?”

You smile, spreading your legs a bit and feeling the stickiness drip through your panties now. 

“She did tell me that some clients have gotten special treatment from you,” You mock him slightly, watching his eyes glue themselves to your thighs. You make a show to spread your legs a bit for him. “I also know that she was no such client.”

A small moment of silence as he devours you with his eyes, seemingly interested in the attitude you have towards him now.

“I also didn’t imagine your clients would be the ones getting you off.” 

Honestly, it’s like he hit the fucking jackpot with you. Challenging him, mocking him with his cock out in front of you. If you so much as wiggled your cunt in front of him, he would instantly be back on his knees, letting you soak his face in whatever way you please. 

“Normally they’d be jumping at the chance, you though–” Jake very nearly growls at you with a deepened voice. “You look like you’re the one who needs to get off, if anything to get that snarky grin off your face.”

“Go on then, dance.”

It’s almost like a game now, he feels. You know he’s trying to seduce you and it seems you’re enjoying the fact that you haven’t let him yet. He knows that you intend to let him, so yeah, fuck yeah, he’s going to play along. 

He raises a brow at you as he steps back once more, trying to ignore the fact that his cock is aching to be touched again. You still want your show? Good. He’ll fucking give you a show.

Jake does as he’s told, finally kicking his pants off in full and keeping his eyes on you the entire time. He watches the way your legs spread when he rubs his hands down his naked chest, straight down to his cock where he only briefly tugs at himself. He can almost see under your dress as you continue to spread your legs more and more, but the lighting is far too dim to see what his act is doing to you just yet.

When he saunters behind you, dipping his head by your neck and whispering the dirtiest part of the song into your ear, he can see your sharp intake of air, and he watches the way your breasts move with each breath he forces out of you, and the way your nipples perk through the fabric.

So, he stays here behind you with his hips pressed to the back of your couch, ghosting his hands over your neck, moving down your arms, and then to your chest. He doesn’t touch, because you still haven't asked yet, but he knows hovering alone is enough. It’s like he can feel the electricity beneath his fingers somehow reaching your skin. 

  And he continues to sing against your ear, leaning further forward to plant his hands on your thighs again, mostly because he’s already been given permission to touch you there. 

“More,” He gently demands between lyrics. “Spread them all the way.”

Jake watches for a moment from behind you, pressing his cock against the back of the couch the moment he sees your legs stretch open, your dress hiking up past your waist, enough now that he can at least see a glimpse of the skin closest to your pussy. 

“Ask me to touch you.” He pleads against your ear, trailing his fingers up your thighs enough to where he would need you to tell him to stop otherwise. “Just tell me you want it.” 

It’s silent save for the music playing, and his cock is aching so badly by this point that each time he rubs against the couch he’s almost breaking down to fucking beg you to let him touch you. That alone could make him cum, but god, you’re so good at playing hard to get even if it’s blatantly obvious that he’s already got you. 

You’re fucking playing with him, and he can’t decide if he loves it or hates it. 

Your silence is so damning to his dripping cock, and his skin feels so hot right now that he’s almost forgotten that he was paid to be doing anything that’s not this. 

“No.” You playfully respond, dangling yourself just out of reach. You breathe in deep though, knowing you can’t keep denying him for much longer with the way his hands are rubbing at you. “I like it better when you’re the one asking for it.” You lean your head back and rest it against the cushions of the couch, and he instantly moves from your neck to look down at you. 

Oh. 

“Cute.” He says, having no issue at all to be the one to ask, beg, plead, or cry. Whatever it takes to get a feel of you at this point. It’s just…new to him.

Another long moment of eye contact has him trailing his hands higher than before, almost to the point that there’s no skin on your thighs to touch that doesn’t involve your panty line. 

“May I?” He asks, leaning down a bit closer so that his face is mere inches from yours. “Will you take my fingers?” 

You could mistake this distance as something that should not be crossed between the two of you. Barely hearing his question at this moment, the only thing you want to do is to kiss him, and it hit you so fucking fast that you almost forgot he’s doing anything you ask of him. 

“Come again?” You smile, blinking up at him. 

He breathes in, seemingly frustrated.

“My fingers. Take them.” He says rather than asking this time, already moving his hands to trace up your panties and feeling the wetness seep through onto his fingertips. “You’re already dripping–baby,” He stops to moan at it, amazed by how fucking soaked you are. “I can imagine they’d slide right in.” 

Typically, you wouldn’t allow anyone to call you that. “Baby.” but coming from his mouth, it sounds fitting. It sounds seductive, sexy. It has your stomach in knots, actually, your hips bouncing up just slightly at his words with the pet name attached. Finally, you let him. Finally, you grind yourself against his fingers. 

“I’ll make you feel so good–” He groans at your movements, loving how desperate you suddenly appear despite pretending you weren’t going to work for your own pleasure. He continues to trace his fingers up and down just to feel the mess of you, the one that he created, and the one that he intends to make messier. 

“Moving your hips isn’t the answer though, baby.”

You swear he can read your mind, there’s no fucking way he would say it like that without knowing how you just internally admitted to liking it. 

“Yes,” You let out shortly, darting your eyes away from him. “I’ll take them.”

That breathy laugh he releases sounds sweet, almost dripping like syrup when he lays his head beside your neck. His soft singing picks back up as he listens to you now more than the music, his fingers continuously ghosting where he promised to put them, not yet moving your panties. 

Paired with it, his abdomen stays tense as he humps against your couch, his muscles locking up at the pleasure running through him in this position. Your hips lightly chase his fingers, up when his fingers move down, and he can’t help the shy smile that spreads across his lips. It’s one you don’t see, but the constant shift in your personality is something that keeps him on edge. Keeps him wanting more, to know more, to see and feel more of you. 

And when he finally reaches around you with his other hand, pulling your panties to the side and exposing your pussy, he watches you take over for him and push them down instead, offering far more than he anticipated. He watches as you kick them off your ankles almost elegantly, as if you could do this job of dancing better than he can.

“Eager?” He teases, knowing you won’t respond to that. And you don’t. It pleases him to know that at least by now, he can kind of read you. Yet, still, there’s nothing more at this moment that would please him more than getting to see you in full. To wander back around this couch and get a real good, close up look at what he’s doing to you. 

“You’re so wet right now.” He groans, knowing that you were soaked before and only hoping you’re dripping more and more for him now. His cock is weeping as much as he’d like for you to be, chasing any amount of friction he could have. And he can see his fingers slip and slide through your slick into places he wasn’t even attempting to touch just yet solely because of how wet you are. 

“You held out for so long,” He coos now with a soft breath against your neck, feeling your cheek nuzzle against his flexing arm. “Look at that,” Two of his fingers tease at your hole before– “they slipped right in.”

Your breathing is labored by this point, feeling him play with you as if he has all the time in the world to fuck with your head. Which is…nice. No rushing despite the time limit on his session, proving time and time again that you’re getting more than others get from him. Lucky you, that you can moan out without shame for him. 

And you do, grabbing his hand and practically fucking yourself with his fingers. That takes him by surprise as the warmth and sheer tightness envelopes his digits. You are excruciatingly sexy to him, he doesn’t even attempt to stop you.

In fact, he doesn’t even hold back now, meeting each chase of your hips with the force of his fingers plunging into you deeply, with full intention. He scissors them open, feeling your hole stretch around them beautifully enough to fit in a third. And god, you’re so fucking wet. He can hear the slapping of his soaked fingers inside of you pushing more and more of that arousal out. 

He moans blatantly against your ear now, easing you into talking back to you. 

“Bet you could take cock so well–” He murmurs, feeling you shiver against his grasp. “How long has it been? Hm?”

He’s talking to you, yes, but hyping himself up at the same time. The scent of your hair forcing a slight obsession with you in his mind. The way you feel, look, smell, move when you’re just inches from him like this. He knows you won’t respond to a goddamn thing he says too, but it doesn’t matter too much to him at this point. Because now, you’re whimpering.

Such a confident, well respected woman…fucking whimpering.

“What was that?” He asks playfully, running his other hand up your body until he gets to your neck. “Has it been that long?”

And for the first time, you were going to answer. For the first time, he doesn’t leave room for you to answer. Instead, you feel his palm resting flush against your neck, now pressing in and practically holding you down by the neck as he fucks his fingers into you faster. 

Painfully faster.

“Cry for me again,” He encourages you, wincing as his own hips frantically chase the back of your couch. “You’re allowed, come on, do it again.”

And because he’s working for it, because he’s doing so fucking well, you let out another choked moan. His hand straining your neck so tightly that any sound coming out sounds strained and desperate, even the sound of yourself right now ignites a fire inside of you. You can feel that grasp tighten each time his fingers fuck into you with a painful jab, his palm placed so perfectly that you can feel your clit being rubbed each time he pulls his hand back.

It’s…overwhelming.

“Yes, fuck- again.” He groans, bucking his hips forward and frantically lifting his head from your shoulder, all so he can look down at you. He’s heard you, now he wants to fucking see how desperate you are when you cry out. 

When you open your eyes again, wincing every few seconds at both the pleasure and pain of his desperate hands, all you can see is his face. All you can feel are those same long fingers threatening more and more cries from your chest. He’s hitting spots inside of you that haven't been touched in a long time. Feeling it now almost burns, even with the cold metal of that single ring on his finger against your neck. 

And when he tightens that hand on your neck once more, not only do you cry out, but he matches you with his own stuttered gasp. You strain to keep your eyes on him through this moment, watching the way his teeth appear to scrape at his bottom lip when the sound of you envelopes his ears. So, you do it again, and again, and again. 

His fingers only continue their aggressive assault inside of you, his palms still hitting your clit, and that other hand around your throat…honestly? You could fucking sing songs to him at this moment if he so wished it. 

“You’re shaking.” He comments, eyes flicking to your body. “Can you even breathe right now?”

His smile looks so fucking mean, knowing full well that you can’t breathe and only tightening his hand harder against your throat. Nevermind the fact that you never discussed this type of thing with him, fucking wasn’t even in the agenda. But now? Fuck it. You do like it. Maybe you even love it. The way you’re moaning for him is all either of you need to know. 

This time though, when you moan out and it’s sounding particularly raspy, he releases his hand from your throat and instantly leans down to your lips. He’s a bit shocked that you immediately strain your neck to kiss him. What he was going to do was degrade you. Now though, he’s just tasting the way you’re so desperate to kiss him. As if you’re wanting this to be real, to be intimate. 

Arguably, your idea was better than his own because now he can’t bring himself to degrade you. In fact, he was stupid to even consider such a fucking thing. Despite never kissing his clients, things with you have already lasted far longer than he’d normally allow. Things have already surpassed the intimacy level he allows too, even with the very few lucky women who get to touch him. He’s never asked for it, and he’s never gotten this much of his own pleasure out of finger fucking them. Not once has he ever fucked himself against a couch to hold himself back for a woman either. 

Maybe just this once, he can want it to be real too. Even if he leaves with a pocket full of cash, the fantasy right now is enough for him to accept it as is. If you want him to kiss you, he will fucking kiss you.

His pupils grow as his eyes close, slowing his fingers unintentionally as he focuses on your lips and tongue. Even his body against your couch relaxes and his hips slow to that of a sensual thrust forward, one that offers a long and painful drag against his already raw and reddened cock. You kiss him back better than he’s even been kissed before, and falling into it was terrifyingly easy. 

His brain nearly short circuits at the softness of it, allowing his hands to move on their own accord, cupping your jaw with one hand and emptying your pussy to rub your clit with the other. He’s intentionally deepening the kiss far past his own comfort level.

But he is comfortable, and that’s precisely what’s uncomfortable about it. 

“You can take it–” Jake mutters between kisses, more focused on your lips than the words he spilling to you. “You want more, right?” He continues, only now pulling back in a breath and waiting for you to adjust your eyes on his. 

Immediately, when you open your eyes they widen at him. Goddamn, was he this sexy before? Did he even look this into you when he was on your lap fucking your fist? Out of all of his begging, this…this right here. Are you really about to fuck a stripper? The man you were so against meeting just this morning? The man who has $600 in his bank account from your lovely, fucking adored and beautiful best friend? 

The man that you’re probably going to give the entirety of the contents in your purse to the moment he packs up and moves on as if this never happened?

Yes.

“I want more–” You say to him, blinking at his pretty eyes and intentionally rubbing your clit against his fingers, mostly because it appears as if he’s stopped functioning all together.

And before you can even blink, his fingers are pulled away and his presence is gone. You lift your head to watch him, cock still erect and heavy against his thigh as he goes directly to his bag. As if he knew it was going to happen, as if this was his plan before he even met you, he pulls out a condom and slips it on without so much as a sigh of relief.

After all, he does have to take precautions to be fucking an absolute stranger like this.

“Oh.” You huff in disappointment, not entirely meaning for him to hear it. 

He raises his eyes to you as he pulls at the end of the condom, offering plenty of space for whatever release he intends to have soon, but his eyes don’t seem concerned nor bothered. 

“What? You want it raw?” He asks playfully, wiggling his eyebrows briefly before making his way back to you. “That’ll require a bit more discussion, you know.”

Discussion that neither of you are willing to have solely because your pussy is throbbing and his cock appears to be more pathetic than it already was being strangled in that thin layer of latex. And without another word, allowing both of you to put that to rest for now, he’s right back over you, lifting your dress up and off of you. 

“Fuck.” He breathes out as your tits falls from their perfect place within the dress. The sopping wet couch beneath you only soaking up more of your slick as his words force more out of you. God, you feel so wanted. 

You keep your arms lifted to help him ease the dress entirely off of you, leaving you bare beneath him as he instantly goes to grab both tits, pressing them together before flicking both nipples with the tips of his fingers. 

Your body jolts at the sensation, feeling it run through you and swell your clit more than it already was. The ache is worse, your hole is pulsing, yearning, wanting to be filled. Still though, he takes his precious expensive time, leaning down and sucking one erect nub into his mouth and flicking it all the same with his tongue. 

“Right here?” He mouths from around your tit, eyes closed and tongue still focused elsewhere. “You want to be fucked here?” He mumbles again, realizing that his question will likely go unanswered. It’s very likely that he is going to fuck you right here, on your living room couch. Asking you such a thing was stupid, borderline cringe-worthy. 

To his surprise though, you lend him a small “no.” as you lace your fingers in his hair, pushing his lips to your other nipple just to feel the warmth of his tongue.

“No?” He questions, blinking up at you from your chest before biting gently around the sensitive bud against his mouth. “Where then?” 

To his dismay, your smile is still beautiful but the way you close your legs and sit yourself up from the slouched, relaxed position you were in disappoints him. Mostly because he’s now forced to stand up too, and even more so because he has to keep his head dipped in order to keep his mouth on that perfect nipple of yours. 

His disappointment fades as you hold his head there, feeling your legs almost buckle against him when he moans around it, sending vibrations through your chest. You remain gentle though, wobbling on your legs and shuffling forward, allowing him to continue his antics. Slowly but surely, you turn him around and back him up against the couch.

Only now, when you push him back and his teeth graze your sensitive nub do you realize that he’s so, so much needier than you expected. Even with his begging, his little disappointed sound didn’t go unnoticed. His brows are still furrowed now, not even paying attention to the fact that you’ve just shoved him down so that you can be the one straddling him. It’s cute, actually. Noticing how he was so intimidating when he came into your house, walking with confidence, dancing with intention, finger fucking you and choking you as if he had a right to do it…only to now look at him and the way he’s melting.

The way he’s needy, borderline puppy-like to be near you.

His eyebrows shoot up from that little face of disappointment though, when you pull yourself from his mouth and instead plant yourself right on his lap, letting your pussy lips envelope the underside of his cock as you grind up immediately.

It’s the first slippery touch his cock has felt all night and honestly? He’s been on edge this entire time. You grind so fucking beautifully, and it’s a first for him to realize that he’s entirely speechless.

You’ve rendered him incapable of speaking. 

“You’re cute, I don’t think you realize that.” You comment, gliding against his cock and watching his hands reach out to grip your waist, “Really cute.”

He doesn’t falter at your compliments, instead he just melts into it even more. His cheeks are permanently blushed as he leans forward to try and get your tits in his face again, and all you can do is grip his hair and let him. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt the head of a cock bumping your clit, and you’d never forgive yourself for not letting yourself have this kind of fun more often. 

And Jake just gets whinier. His cock pulses and twitches to be inside of you all the while despite the discomfort of that latex layer likely needing to be replaced already. Still, his hands keep moving your waist, pushing and pulling you faster against him until– ah.

You angle yourself perfectly when he slides your upwards again. All you had to do was perk your ass out and wait for him to push you back down. Finally, he slides in without fully realizing that’s what was going to happen, and goddamn the sound he makes, fuck.

“Mmfuck,” He winces, digging his nails into your hips at the speed of which he bottomed out. The breath is knocked out of him and all you can do is stare down. Look at him now, so docile and sweet like he wasn’t fucking your livingroom floor prior to this. 

And the grip of you on him, so strong. The slide was so easy, so fast, that he genuinely is seeing stars at how good you feel wrapped around him. The velvet walls inside of you pulsing, pushing and squeezing his cock all over. He can’t help the sounds he makes, grunting and feeling that grip you have in his hair intensify his pleasure. 

Both of you now let out a long winded breathy groan at the sensation of your body adjusting to his, in all fairness, you had to grip onto something and his hair just so happened to be the best thing at the moment. He seems to love it though, so when you finally regain your senses of being absolutely fucking full, you pull at it again, tilting his head back so that you can see the expanse of his neck and the way it moves when he swallows. 

“Bounce.” He croaks out at you, eyes glistening with pure fucking hope that you will. 

And, well…when you feel his length pulse in place inside of you, you do exactly as he asked. You bounce, taking his full, thick cock each and every time. Not allowing a single inch of it to be neglected. All he can do in response is squint, trying to keep his eyes open through each breathy groan of praise and encouragement. He does lose himself entirely to the feeling of euphoria and the pain of how harshly you keep his head tilted back. 

He really didn’t think you could get any sexier, honestly, and as far as he’s concerned…if he moves right now he’s going to cum. So, he doesn’t. Instead, he just lazily smiles at you and lets his eyes finally close so that he can fall right back into the state of seeing nothing but stars.

Frustrated, yet incredibly turned on by the way you’ve just completely lost him, you bounce harder, then you sit flush against him, twisting and swirling your hips. Grinding forward back, counting how he moans each time you do something that feels particularly sensitive for him. And you hang onto that, repeating those actions, lifting your ass and sliding back down. Again and again, until your legs shake and your fingers threaten to pull his hair too hard.

“Look at you now,” You half-chuckle out of breath, hearing the wet slaps of skin on skin paired with his blatant and sensual moans drowning out the playlist that has been long forgotten. “You can’t even move.”

All he does is nod his head, that same lazy and cocky smile appears as if to insinuate that you’re damn fucking right he can’t. Like he’s proud of it. And you’re not going to ignore the fact that his hands are still on your waist either, gripping onto you so tightly that you fear he could draw blood if you move the wrong way.

“Keep going, baby–” He somehow manages to say to you. “Don’t stop.”

There it is. This entire time he’s been begging to fuck you, and now he’s finally begging you to fuck him. His voice still sounds like honey, with that impressively hard cock inside of you pulsing so constantly that you could probably feel him in your stomach if you were to press against it. 

“Mhm,” You answer him, promising that you won’t stop through just a half-moan and a long winded intake of air. Honestly? At this very moment, you feel like you’re sitting on a throne. Jake, obviously, being said throne but whatever. The fucking power he’s making you feel is nothing short of alluring. 

And now, as that power goes to your head, you opt to grind rather than bounce for him now. Your hips aren’t as erratic, yet still he tenses up for you, forcing his cock to somehow feel even harder as you fuck it into yourself through lazy drags of your clit against his pelvis. 

If you keep going like this, you could cum in an instant. But before you can even finish that thought, you look down at him on instinct due to his sudden silence. 

His eyes are squeezed shut tightly, and his mouth is open in a silent moan. You can see that he’s not breathing, seemingly holding his breath even after you release his hair. His head lolls back with that same expression, and that’s when you feel his fingernails dig.

“Oh,” You moan, now resuming your grinding much harder now, making a point to bump your clit repeatedly against him. “Fuck, are you cumming right now?”

Still he doesn’t respond, you can only feel his hips stutter under you despite trying to remain entirely still and stiff for you. You know that now is when you need to be chasing, because you’ll be damned if you’re not going to cum with him inside of you. 

You want to be full like this, you want to squeeze him, to play with his sensitive cock even if it starts to soften. He’s too pretty, too fucking pretty when he whimpers. And so, you continue grinding, up until you’re on the brink of your orgasm but not quite there yet. To the point his cock is only half in you with the way you’re angling your clit against him, chasing your own high so aggressively that you barely feel his fingers tightening on you again. 

Jake shoots his head back up, eyes opening as the sensitivity hits him quicker than he would have liked, but you don’t relent. The pain is intense from how hard you’re riding him, but he can see how close you are, the image alone compliments that sensitivity he’s feeling right now. 

He seethes out painful praises to you as your desperate cunt finally reaches orgasm, squeezing against his softening length so tightly that he can’t help but whimper with you. Still, he studies your face through his own winces, shuddering at the way you close your legs around him despite them being forced to stay open in this position. You try to curl into the pleasure, as if you wish you could disappear completely alongside it. 

And god, the way you grip at his arms for leverage as you shake through it. Dare he say…he’s fond of you. It still hurts, but it kind of hurts more when he knows it’s over. Mostly because it feels like he’s been in this room with you for days, knowing that’s not true. Surely he’s stayed longer than your allotted time with him, but you seemed to have given him something worth staying for at least.

When you slump over him, he almost wants to cry from how fucking sensitive he is right now. Thankfully, you seem sensitive too as you wince before he does, remaining as gentle as you can when you reach down to the base of his cock and hold the condom, allowing him to slide out of you at his own pace. 

And then, the playlist comes to an abrupt end at just the wrong moment, because it forces Jake to realize that he hadn’t stayed at all over his paid time frame. Now, all he can hear is the way his breath is entirely too uneven compared to any of his sessions with prior clients like this. He’s breathing much too fondly for you, or rather, not breathing well because of you. He can’t just…go home can he?

“You okay?” You ask to the slight panicked look on his face, seeing how he stares straight up at the ceiling, not blinking, no readable expression. “Jake?”

He shakes himself out of it, eyes slowly moving and blinking to look at you.

“That–” He tries to talk, genuinely, he does. “Um…”

The change in atmosphere almost freaks you out. Isn’t this what he wanted? You saw the way he lost himself there briefly though, you can admit. None of this was even that rough or kinky, so you’re a bit confused as to why he’s acting like this.

Maybe you even feel a bit guilty. Like you’re the problem. So, you silence yourself and lift onto weak legs to stumble and find your dress. You throw it on quickly, hiding your shame that he so wanted to see just fifteen minutes ago. Then, you head for your purse and grab every single bill you have folded neatly inside. 

Just like that, you place the money in his shaking hand and can’t bare to look at him.

“Wha-” He starts, licking his dried lips and sitting up a bit too quickly. “Why are you giving me so much?”

“It’s your tip.” You try to say casually as you clear your throat. “You can shower too, if you’d like.” 

Jake holds his breath, hoping you don’t genuinely think he did all of that for the money. He was already paid to be here, the whole…you know, fucking thing, was his doing. What happened was because he wanted it, and…he still does. Are you truly just strictly back to business like this? You literally just handed him his rent for the month and then some, it kind of amazes him. The audacity. As if he’s never been handed handsome sums of cash from drunken lonely women. You aren’t a woman who needs him, and yet you pay like you did. 

“Shower with me?” He forces himself to ask, because he knows he’ll regret it if he doesn’t. After all, this tip feels like a rejection of what just happened. Hush money, even. 

He doesn’t know what just crept into this room through the fucking silence, but he doesn’t like it. And it seems you don’t either, because you instantly comfort him with a smile and a step forward. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

He didn’t intend to spend the night, free of charge no less, but he did. All of that including some embarrassing talk involving the seriousness of how this is not normal for him. 

Surprisingly, you believe him. 

After the shower, the mood had shifted into something that felt natural and less rehearsed. He wasn’t just some stripper you could call over with a downpayment of $600, he was Jake, a man trying to make ends meet in a city far too expensive even for you if you’re being honest. 

Jake, a man wanted by several women. You, on the other hand, feel the need to mend your lonely and stone-cold heart with him, however much that may cost. Not to fall in love, or to fill any type of voice. If anything, you want to be taken care of in specific ways, and you’d like to take care of him in turn. 

So, when he grimaced at your joke, saying that he would practically be your sugar baby and that you’d run off all of his other business out of need to continuously be fucked by him and him alone, you almost stopped pressing the matter.

Because you would run off all his clients solely for keeping him too busy with you to go to them. You would be paying him every time, making damn sure he’s well taken care of and financially stable. 

Jake did notice how you looked disappointed, quickly backtracking his grimace.

“Wait, you’re serious?” 

You nod shyly, blinking at him.

“It’s not like we have to sleep together every time, you won’t even have to dance for me anymore.” You argue, knowing that’s at least a half-lie. “All I ask is that you don’t fuck your other clients if you’re still seeing me, and intending to..you know–”

Jake nods happily, without question even.

“So, what happens if I’m horny and you’re not available then?”

You narrow your eyes at him. 

“Jerk off like a normal person?”

Fair enough.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

man, i forgot how lame this fic is but yknow what? good for me. jake is so fuckin’ fine fr I DON’T EVEN CAREEEEEEEEEEE. pls reblog and leave feedback on my work :D

[prokopetz]

As someone who follows a lot of webcomics, including some very long running ones, I'm suddenly curious: have you any thoughts on the decline and fall of Sinfest?

I was there when Sinfest went off the rails, and it's kind of hilarious because it didn't go at all the way most folks assume it did. A lot of people have only seen the comic's early days and what it's doing this week and conclude it must have been a straight line from the former to the latter – which honestly isn't a bad guess! – but it actually went through a milquetoast liberal feminist phase somewhere in the middle, if you can believe it.

The trouble is, the comic's author had this whole Grand Philosopher of the Internet shtick going, and this was back when just having a regularly updating website made you kind of a big deal, so they were accustomed to being treated as an authority on whatever subject they saw fit to shoot their mouth off about. However, when the comic took a turn from edgy T&A pop culture parody to didactic feminist allegory, practically no one was prepared to take it seriously; the comic's established readership was broadly unreceptive, and whatever new readership the comic was trying to court found the idea of suddenly treating the Calvin-and-Hobbes-with-tiddies guy as an authority on the topic of feminism laughable.

Of course, I said practically no one. There was, in fact, one notable group who were perfectly willing to kiss the Calvin-and-Hobbes-with-tiddies guy's ass. I'm sure you can guess who.

(To be 100% clear, I'm not saying "oh, Sinfest's author was forced to go down the transphobic radfem pipeline because we nasty leftists were mean to them". They're a colossally entitled twerp who voluntarily got in bed with fascists because couldn't deal with not being taken seriously as an authority figure, and they made their own choices. I'm just remarking on the particulars of that trajectory!)

[voxslays]

BREEDING — HWANG IN-HO

WARNINGS: Soft In-ho, slightly OOC, mentions of sex, pregnancy, the baby is a boy (for plot reasons), Breeding kink. A/N: I am eating, sleeping, and breathing squid games rn. It’s in my blood stream. Please give me more ideas y’all.

ꨄ After the loss of his first wife and unborn child, In-ho was completely destroyed. He thought he would never find love or have the chance to have a child of his own again…until he met you.

ꨄ While you probably fell first, In-ho would fall harder. Someone who sees a different side of him? Someone who isn’t a cold-blooded killer? He is completely whipped.

ꨄ You probably met outside the games, having no idea what your lover does for work—which he wants to stay that way…kind of. While In-ho doesn’t want you involved in his work at all, you deserve to know the truth, right?

ꨄ Will eventually tell you the truth, and couldn’t be happier when you accept him anyways. He vows to never show you the cold heartless frontman he has to be for the games.

ꨄ Once the two of you are married, In-ho goes crazy for your body. I mean you two had sex before marriage…but now? Man, he absolutely worships your body, as if you’re a goddess.

ꨄ In-ho fucks his cum into you, making sure not to waste a precious drop. He wants it to take after all. Will tell you how beautiful you would look carrying his children while he pounds into you.

ꨄ Really wants to get you pregnant and have a child with you, more than anything. So when he hears the news after returning from one of his ‘trips’ to the island, he is overjoyed.

ꨄ Makes sure your every need is met. If he can’t cater to you, he’s making sure his servants or the circle guards are waiting on your hand and foot. Only the best for his queen.

ꨄ Might even bring you to the island to keep you safe through your pregnancy. He is going to make sure both you and your baby surivive the best he can.

ꨄ Once your son is born, he can’t stop holding him. He lets the little baby wrap its hands around his finger as he gently cradles him in his arms. He may be a cold-blooded killer, but to you, he is just your warm and caring husband.

EXTRA: Your son definitely becomes the next frontman whether you like it or not. In-ho can’t help it. It runs in the family.

[jadeshifting]

— SCRIPTING YOUR FAMILY. ( i swear it can work even if they’re not dead )

　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　

— DISCLAIMER. script what you want !! this isn’t judgement or an attempt to convince you of anything. i still have ded family in some realities, don’t worry :^)

alright, so a lot of shifters skip right to scripting their DR families straight into the afterlife. gone, nonexistent, dead and buried. this is for a myriad of reasons, though for me and everyone i know, it has a lot to do with backstory, or the idea that family ties are going to cramp our style or get in the way of our dream life and the plot. but, for anyone who’s interested, let’s flip the script (pun intended) and talk about why creating an original, unique family for your desired reality can actually make your experience richer, more meaningful, and a whole lot more fun !!

WHY KEEP THE FAMILY DRAMA?

first off, let’s address the elephant in the room: family can be a lot. but scripting them out entirely can be like throwing the baby out with the bathwater !! there’s tons of potential to consider there. a family offers plenty of opportunities to add depth, lore, and a whole bunch of emotional layers to your DR. think about it—what’s a life without a little family drama, a bit of cozy love, or even a quirky aunt who always brings the laughs? it doesn’t have to be a big, happy family—it can be whatever you feel like you need, whatever fits

HOW TO BUILD YOUR DR FAMILY

　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　

— SIZE MATTERS ( but not really ) .　　. 　 ˚　. when scripting your DR family, start with size. do you want a big, loud, chaotic family with siblings running around, or something closer to a small, tight-knit crew? maybe you’re an only child who’s the apple of your parents’ eyes, or perhaps you’re in the middle of a bustling household where everyone’s got a role to play. there’s no right or wrong—just what feels right for you, and what you feel like you need in that specific DR

— CHOOSE YOUR ROLES .　　. 　 ˚　. who’s in your family? a loving, supportive mom who’s your biggest cheerleader? a cool dad who’s kind of your best friend? maybe a set of grandparents who tell you the most insane stories about their youth, or a mouthy sibling who keeps you on your toes. think about the roles that would enrich your life in your DR. remember, these people are there to support your life, not unnecessarily complicate it

— CONNECTIONS .　　. 　 ˚　. now, here’s where it gets fun (in my opinion): your relationships. are you super close with your mom, the kind of close where you can endlessly gossip and have deep life talks? is your dad the type to give you space but always manages to have your back when it counts? maybe you have an insane sibling rivalry that spans over a decade. the relationships you script can add so much flavor to your DR—it’s all about creating connections that resonate with you, and support you in all the ways you want to be supported

FITTING INTO THE LORE ( making it make sense )

if your DR has a specific lore or world-building element ( Hogwarts, Marvel, etc. you know ), weave your family into it !! maybe your mom’s a legendary witch, or your dad’s a top Auror. perhaps your family runs a magical bakery, or you’re part of an ancient lineage with a complex magical or academic heritage. the point is, your family should feel at home in your DR, adding to the story rather than feeling like an afterthought that detracts from it

SOME IDEAS FOR YOUR DR FAMILY

　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　

( just to get you started )

— MAGICAL LINEAGE .　　. 　 ˚　. your family has a rich history tied to your DR’s lore—maybe you’re descendants of a powerful wizard, or you’ve got a long-standing feud with another powerful family. drama

— ECCENTRIC GROUP .　　. 　 ˚　. a family full of eccentric or seemingly ridiculous people—a dad who invents magical gadgets, a mom who’s an expert potion maker, siblings who are always concocting some mischievous or downright strange plans

— TIGHT-KNIT TEAM .　　. 　 ˚　. quiet and likely unassuming—just a small, close family who’s been through everything together together. you lot might not be flashy, but their love and support are solid and you know you can always count on them

— CHAOTIC CLAN .　　. 　 ˚　. a massive, bustling family where everyone’s got their own unique role. maybe you’ve got siblings with vastly different personalities, parents that always have something insane to say, or aunts and uncles hailing from faraway places. family gatherings are always an ordeal

DON’T STRESS THE DETAILS

here’s the deal: scripting your DR family is about enhancing your experience, not stressing you out or detracting from all the things you wanna do. whether you want to create a sprawling family tree or just script a few key members, it’s all up to you. and remember—at the end of the day, your DR is personal to you. it’s about what makes you feel connected, supported, and ready to dive into the adventure of a lifetime

so, build that dream family !! whether they’re magical, mundane, or somewhere in between, totally supportive or bringing never-ending drama to spice things up, at the end of the day they’re there to add richness and depth to your DR. and trust me, it’ll make your journey all the more special if you let it !!

　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　

[just-another-hippie]

OKAY LETS DO IT

1. It's super fucking complicated !!

2. @decomposing-atm <3

3. An awful lot, way too much to list here and basically all about my childhood :(

4. Ehh 50/50

5. Taken <3

6. I've been debating this for ages and I'm still not sure

7. Uhhh homemade wild berry compote on Greek yoghurt (fuckin fancy ik)

8. Yep! I was very athletic when I was younger but then illnesses and eds SLAPPED me so I stopped for a while, but I'm getting into bouldering and weightlifting now that I'm recovered :]

9. HELL NO

10. Uhh when my older stepsister was round last weekend because she likes to hurt me totally unprompted ://

11. My boyfie hehe

12. Uhhhh maybe?? I've pulled so many all-nighters I can't remember

13. I don't hate people because I believe it's bad for my mental health, I tend to set boundaries and burn bridges if people are bad to me, then wish them the best and hope that one day they will truly find happiness and become a better person

14. A lot of people :(

15. YES!! My cat hermione hehe I'll post a pic of her cause she's super duper cute

16. Ehh a bit mixed atm, I'm just making sure I keep fighting because I'm sure as shit gonna make it out alive.

17. No and as "sexy" as it seems I am also a MASSIVE germaphobe so please can we do it somewhere nicer /silly

18. VERY VERY VERY FUCKING MUCH GOD DAMN

19. Definitely, and I know exactly when in my childhood :/

20. Uhhh I think his room HAHA

21. Yikes umm

22. I don't plan to have bio kids because I'm anti-natalist, but if I was in the right headspace then I would adopt older kids which got left in the system

23. I have 5 piercings, double lobe piercings in both ears and a septum piercing! I'm getting snakebites next year and I'll think about what else after that!

24. Uhhh idk I hate school so bad >:(

25. Very very much so :(

26. Chocolate HAHA

27. N/A

28. N/A

29. N/A

30. The state of the world, my home life, my lack of organisation??

31. Yes!!

32. I think green, but I love colours so I'm not sure, I'm more about vibes

33. DEFO

34. Uhh last night it was hugging @strawberri-bomb-bomb which was hella sweet because I miss them

35. Unfortunately my mother

36. I used to an awful lot, but I absolutely don't anymore

37. I may forgive but I never forget

38. Fuck yeah it will be

39. 14 <3

40. I fear not /silly

(Apparently they skipped some)

51. Man I love food so much I literally couldn't pick LMAO

52. I used to, but I lost my faith last year, I'm trying to get back to that sense of peace I had in knowing that what will be will be

53. Talk to my boyfie and drink chamomile tea

54. Absolutely fucking not!! unless you're trapped in an abusive relationship that you've tried to leave, any other circumstance go fuck yourself

55. No!! My whole thing is about peace, love, and kindness!!

56. Uhh not too many I hope

57. Absolutely 100000000%

58. SUNSHINE!!!!!

59. Hell yes, I wish we had it more where I live i love it sm :((

60. Yes!!

61. YES!!

62. So much that it deserves its own list

63. I already have socially but I will legally on my birthday!! If we mean change my name from my name now then I'm not inclined to, but I wish I chose a cooler name /j

64. The only challenge is distance /j

65. Then I'd tell them no thank you let's stay friends!!

66. Uhh I pick my friends very wisely so I'm comfortable around all of them I think, but some more than others

67. I have no idea I've slept for ages and it was like a coma /silly

68. Uhhhh I don't know maybe my boyfie??

69. ABSOLUTELY

70. The people closest to my heart

I did itttt!!

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[fairestwriting]

Oooooooo I have a idea- what about Pomefiore with a cat beastman S/O who was given catnip?

i. swear i tried to make this sound like its not cat weed but i just couldnt escape that. it Is cat weed. also this turned out so long good god. lost in the sauce

Vil Schoenheit

It was an accident, he was working on a potion for one of his classes and you just happened to be in the laboratory at the first time. Since you had gotten together it became kind of a thing between you two. Since he can't always make time to see you, and your catlike traits make you sleepy often, the compromise you reach together is that he lets you sit around and nap while he's busy with other things. It's comforting for you both, and even helps him focus.

But, much to his own dismay, Vil isn't perfect, and even though slip-ups are rare, they do still happen. Maybe he was just tired that day, and unluckily (luckily?) it happened right when you opened your eyes — He was too focused on measuring a certain ingredient, the bottle was right next to something like a catnip extract, he knocks it over and hardly notices it. You very much do, though.

He can't really smell it the way you do for obvious reasons, but even when he's so focused on getting to the next ingredient, it's impossible to ignore you hazily walking up to him and nuzzling into his shoulder with big, dilated eyes, asking him how the project is going as soon as he puts the bottle down.

It startles him, he's about to scold you in that tone you've grown so familiar with, then he notices what actually happened. And you're just all lovey-dovey and giggly, and you two are alone right now, could anyone really stay cold and calculated in that situation? Needless to say, the project will have to be started over. You end up laying on his lap, purring while he pets you and exasperatedly sighs, embarrassed at the mishap. And easily swayed by how cozy you seem to be, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to take a break right now…

Rook Hunt

Unlike in Vil's case, Rook's "catnip incident" is very intentional. And not just that, it's thoroughly planned. Maybe way too thoroughly, but, well, you're dating Rook. You knew what you were signing up for, he was never quiet about his fascination about the habits you had that differ you from humans.

You didn't think too much of it when he brought up catnip. He's already asked you so many questions related to your beastperson status. Really, you're almost surprised it never came up before. You shrug and tell him you wouldn't know how you'd react to it, you never really went anywhere near the thing. He smiles and you get the feeling that this will be changed soon. Your suspicions feel very confirmed when he asks you if you're not also curious about it, chuckling as he fawns over the way your cat ears twitch with his words.

Then it's just kind of a given that he'd eventually get you some to see how you react, it's just not a scheduled thing — at least not on your end, because he definitely had the timing in mind down to the exact second — and you're not exactly sure how he'd even manage to get the thing. It might even take long enough for you to forget the conversation until the day he finds you at the courtyard after class, all by yourself, and asks you to smell his wrist with the biggest smile on his face. One would easily assume he was just showing off some new perfume Vil made him try…

But, again, it's Rook. Intrigued, and suspicious or not, you can't resist getting closer, he's sly enough to have only gotten a tiny bit of the thing on himself, not enough for you to smell it from afar despite your sharp senses. Then, the effect hits you, and you'd think he was the catperson with how he seems to melt along with you, finding your reaction just so endearing. He doesn't shut up for the next half hour or so, going on and on about just how cute you are when you're so relaxed, scratching under your chin and behind your ears. He'll definitely never forget it, nor will he easily let you forget it, bringing it up to tease you whenever possible.

Epel Felmier

Also another one who might do it intentionally, but with a completely different approach. To Epel, it's a way simpler thing. He's curious about how it's like to be a catperson, definitely did not expect things like fangs or purring even though, in the near future, he thinks he was silly for being so surprised at them. Basically, every little quirk of yours is something new, kind of exciting even, and definitely really cute.

He's had cats back at his family's farms, not exactly owned animals, more like strays he would feed on his mom's request so they stuck around and took care of the rats. Catnip was something he heard about before, when they discussed about how to keep and care for the cats, but not really easy to access in that sleepy, rural town. He gets the idea when he learns about it being an ingredient in certain potions.

He asks you about it the next day a little nervously. You can probably tell he snuck the bottle out of the Pomefiore lab and has it in his hands just from his odd posture. He talks about the things he heard, how it could make cats really happy and relaxed, then asks if you knew whether the effect also worked on catpeople. Regardless if you just say you're not sure, or if you want to cut to the chase and ask what he's holding, he presents the bottle to you right next. Saying he was wondering if you'd like to maybe try it. Followed up with how he's not sure about whether it'd be allowed or not, so you two should probably find somewhere secluded or something—

Epel quickly realizes how that sounds, but can't take back the words. He swears he has no second intentions, he just thought you might like it (not mentioning if he really wanted to know if you'd get all cuddly like the cats from commercials he saw) and in one way or another, off you are to a supply closet or something like that. It does not help his case of looking like he has second intentions, but you do know him well enough. He's giggling from the mischief when he shows you the bottle, and almost drops it in surprise when you end up getting too close and taking a too strong whiff off the stuff—

…Your eyes get huge, and you're giggling too, blinking in surprise at how the world shifts in just a second. Epel asks you how it feels. You say it's actually pretty good, leaning into him cozily. He gets flustered and tries (fails) to not show it, staring at your tail while it sways. He reaches out to pet your head and you lean in. You get caught very quickly and lectured for an amount of time that you do not recall at all, and he has no intention of actually listening to it, because you were being cute and you two got interrupted… Next time will have to be actually planned, though.

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

[muzansfangs]

Nsfw alphabet – the Salesman (letters f, k, q, t, w)

Starring: the Salesman x f!reader;

Format: head canons;

Warnings: nsfw, vaginal sex, creampie, unprotected sex, sadism, gagging, masturbation, public sex, toxic traits, humiliation, dacryphilia, spanking, impact playing, slapping, dom!salesman, sub!reader, gun playing, handcuffing, mention to pregnancy, anal sex;

Plot: some nsfw head canons about the Salesman aka the Recruiter, based on some letters of the alphabet;

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

The Salesman has manhandled you in positions you did not even think were humanly manageable. Out of them, however, the salesman loves to have you either on your hands and knees, head pressed down in the pillow, or the good old mating press.

You could say it depends mostly on his mood. If he keeps the eye-contact with you, he is feeling somewhat more romantic, more human. Even if his cock brushes against your cervix unforgivingly every now and then. Your legs, pressed to your chest, make you look vulnerable and he loves that.

And, damn, is he not talkative when he messes you up like that?

“Fuck, I was thinking that fucking you raw is like playing the Russian Roulette. If I hit the nail on the head, we are screwed” he growled next to your ear, not minding the risk of impregnating you.

If he encloses the back of your neck with his hand and pushes your face down on the mattress, my dear, he is going to ravage you until you are sore. But he loves the way your ass ripple with each brutal thrust he gives you. The words falling from his mouth are far less loving than the possibility of getting you pregnant.

“Slut, you’re dripping like a cat in heat”.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

This man probably has a tattoo somewhere on his body reciting ‘kinky bastard’ in capital letters. The first one is dacryphilia. To some extent, he may care for your well-being during sex. It is rough, mindblowing. Obviously, it leaves you shaking, copious tears streaming down your cheeks. You have no idea how hard he gets, when you sob underneath him, needy, hapless and on the brink of breaking down.

Spanking and face slapping are a must. He does not hit you as hard as he does to the potential players he meets at the station. However, he does not go easy on you. You are bruised, at the end of the day.

If he is upset, expect him to lure you to have some anal sex. Your whimpers when he stretch you out himself are a manna from heaven. Unfortunately, it may last not as long as it does when he is messying up your pussy. It is all about pain. The more desperate you are, the faster he spurts into you.

The mention of honor goes to gun play. He never tells you if it is really loaded, or not, when he presses it against your temple. What you know is that you are still alive.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Our dear recruiter is a busy man, especially when that time of the year comes. When he comes back home, it is so late you are already alseep. Do not think he would have remorses in waking you up, if he needs to fuck you dumb, because he would.

The thing is he needs to rest too. Quickies are not his thing, but they are necessary. He is a sneaky bastard, not sticking to have them early in the morning, or when he is about to leave.

He may stalk you down the streets, easily becoming your shadow until you end up nearing an alley. My dear, this is when he clasps his hand over your mouth and shoves you against the wall. You are used to his antics by now. You do not feel ashame to walk off with a limp, afterwards. Not anymore, at least.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

This man has probably owns an arsenal of toys. And, no, we are not talking about his weapons. He is not the type to indulge in plain vanilla sex. There is always going to be some kind of an object among the bedsheets, when he pins you underneath him and reels at the lewd faces you make for him.

He is a sadist inclined to use the toys on his favorite victim: you.

Do not be surprised, if he handcuffs you to the bedpost, or involves ropes in the particularly intense sessions awaiting for you, when he had a bad day. You cry out in pleasure and pain and it is irking him? Fine. Gags it is.

He sees you as a small pet eager to please him. Drool for him, whilst he uses nipple clamps on your already sensitive buds. If you wince, when he is deep inside of you, he may just shoot his load deep in your bowels. Nothing excites him more than your teary eyes and wobbling lower lip.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He is definitely territorial. His jealousy takes over easily and, along with hickeys hard, if not impossible, to camouflage with a scarf and some make up, he jerks off with your panties. He does not see the necessity to make you wear your now cum-covered underwear, if he is by your side, though.

Yet, expect him to demand you to parade around the city, unable to hide the squelching sounds of your thighs brushing together, when the cum seeps from the fabric and stains the inside of your legs, if you are going out alone. Your boss, your friends, the men you cross paths with throughout the day, well, they just have to know you have a boyfriend and that you comply to his excessively unhinged and demeaning requests to please him.

When you reunite at home, he expects you to sit on his lap and narrate the mortifying experience of talking to strangers, or coworkers whilst entirely soaked and smelling of his semen.

Author note.

Hello there! This is my first time writing for the Squid Game fandom. Hopefully, I did not disappoint the audience! Let’s just say that my brainrot for this man was eating me alive and I had to write a little something for him. Your impressions and comments are greatly appreciated!

Love,

– Luce

[xxcrumbxx]

Hey so this is a miny chereiter analises of how i see fool and sol.

Man oh man I love this shit too. ,tbh Fool and Sol are who I look most forword to "talkin to " masuta is amazing and lovely ,I wanna know more about that sweet little bag of represd past trama named Sunspot,

Therorising about Fool

but the talks with fool and knowing more about him is so mesmerizing. like duse he have 2 outhers and he uses his staff to alow them "out" becuse his body was not desighd to switch outwordly ?( and duse he resent that fact and duse he feel further outcasted and potenchally lookd down on becuse he is a non fazbare made animatronic and in lesse nice words a bootleg? Like he shows pride in his stature and indurance but he could be masking those feelings useing pride as a sheld )

Character study / what im seeing in Fool

Fool wishes to lean more in to his performance becuse its what he was made for and its a perfictly well made chericacher of his self, put up to make all ideas of his inharent displacement in the group and the world less known, becuse to onlookers he is just as his name sake a fool,he canot posabuly be smart enughf or sorrowfull and desperit longing for something outher then the meta phisical cage he is forced to dwell with in. Running the same programs and prosseses to a maddaning dagree. Wishing to excpireance what he was made for agin but also needing to be more then the experiences he's had. He has to cover up all of it ,in fear that if he duse not purform even with out a proper audeance he will be sent back to the subliminal time warping hellscape that is storige. storage he him self has no idea how long he will be there or if he is lost to the sans of time, Forgotton by the humans that made him. So instead he has to drip every last drop out of the cup of attintion he's finnaly resiving from the potential last chance of captovating an adiance and heving a new excperiance a life line for his scentse of self and worth as a performor becuse he is still stuck.traped and lonely hes still an a sort of storage a colection not to be used but looked at and injoyed ,its like bing in a mental prison like being in storage but with a different name but what makes this kind worse and most hart braking is he. Can see and contantly here the world out side of his invisabule box its always there taugnting him and he duse not have to be alone there are outhers in this wide opan cage that are just as traped, gratefull to not be lost to time but still traped,he wants oh so badly to be wanted for his company to be seeked out but becuse of his own self image and trubles he puts up a wall a barrior anouther thing they wave to cross and go out of there way to acheve to show they acctuly whant to be around him, and wish to injoy his company and to simply just hang out and none but masuta have even tryed. fool oh boy well he alredy had his well timed heart bleed like he did it in that moment to geet eyes of masuta an y/n but he Ty miment also perfictly highy lighted what hes been heeding to get off his chest.he is the embody ment of fools like the fools Journey ( from his conseption and life at the fair to his inprisonment as a thing and now his fleeting fredom where the luxures of retierment are surrounded by the reminders that he is a thing and all just like all that is collected with him he may never be givin the opertunity to shine agin and the lingering threat of a smaller box is always near hes in a cage a pretty one he can play in and decoret but he is not truly free. He has been shown something new and wonderusly blinding to his prosesers and so he is chasing this new feeling of whimsy heven to his own potential detrament but atlest its interesting.) as well as historical ones ,knowing to mutch but being overlooked becuse he is protraid as to cought up in the bit an to joyus to know sorrow or to hold fear.he is the kings clisest adviser hearing all and speeking non playig his role, he is a mask on a mask a lovely showing how how smart you have to be to even play his role. a role thet is never giviin full credit becuse on lookers have only the out side to worry about. Whitch he is fine with but quietly longs for a companion to truly understand him and that is why he flurts with masuta and tryes to drag him in to his flights of fancy becuse as afellow perfurformer he hopes masuta will indalge in him and finaly see him threw his gratest act, the act that never gets a curtan call and never an aplause. Even threw his prossesing his programing forces him to pause for the audeance so keenly aware of everything but aloud to disregard and disclose nouthing.

Therorising about Sol

did sol the beach/chimicaly burn his "skin" to rid of the moon but missed a spot / couldent get to it gefor he was stoped and that is why he wares a glove, like did his moon hurt someone verry badly and he "ruiend"his casing with clening suplise trying to get the blood off? And thats why hes so " every moon is a monsture hell bent on hurting people" and " ruins aI is dangerus distroy it befor it hurts you" aswell as " dont be stupid ware gloves whal working with chimicals or else" becus hes projecting and wishes he wasis he still a dul ai but his moon is perma damiged and there body wont swtch back and forth orr did he ... Kill his moon ??) orrr is he moon like he took over his sun in a way and that arm is the only remander of who he use to look like ?? Idk but im sooo down to know also I bet he secritly wishes y/n would feel comftorbull enughf to come visit him in his room like they have with masuta. If they can sleep with what he vews as a moster why won't they have the audasity to visit anouther.

Character study / what im seeing in Sol

he wishes he was decomishond.he wishes he never knew he was more then just a machean becuse the act of having a electric sole is to daunting and he is not a performer. he feels like he must "get rid " of his own and every outher DCA in the houses electric sole / scenteance to save them from this silly game there playing ,becuse the idea of them having feelings and wants outside of there primary derective inharently means he can as well.A nany turnd turn untrustworthy grapaling wth self hate and lothing for himself and a disregard for his own sentiance still secritly wishing to be chosen agin, still needing to care for something all whal being stuck in a loop of self hatred and the lothing of outhers that are a mirror up to his mirror. Scared to get close but not realy wanting to be alone.he talks down to outhers to feel a miniscule amoutnt of control he. Treats outhers like childeren as a way to indalge in his primary functon but lothes tjat he even duse that. He can never truly fufill his purpos agin with out outside help and i think that upsets him to. He is the parent he is the adalt he knows better he is surrounded by ideots stuck in lala land never seeing or admiting how bleck there situashion is becuse when hinory dies ether theyre selled agin and who knows who would buy them or ther put in a box in a box inside anouther box. So to save himself the trubble he barys all his feelings diwn and bathes in lonely ness and poorly descised resentment and sorrow.

Sorry for my poor spelling and ocashinal run on scetences im not a wrighter and may have poorly wirded some things but i hope someone injoys this little blirb of thoughts

( also im saupose to be folding lawdry not going all introspective on @venomous-qwille 's lovely charictors and wrighting lol.) anyway i love these fellas and am excited to know,read and feel more:]

Love love love characters that present themselves as emotionally open social butterflies but the more you see of them the more obvious it is that they’re the most closed off fuckers in the story. Sure, they want to help you with your personal problems and messy emotions, but if you turn that shit back on them, they’ll shut down or deflect every time. Why are you sticking your nose in their business anyway? It’s not like it matters. They’re not a person, they’re just a role being played. They’re the guy who fixes things and saves people. Please ignore the man behind the mask, he’s fine. Everything’s fine.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hey sex / Batman witch I have (what may be) a kinda silly and (sorta gross) question.

So I know romance novels and fan fiction especially erotica centered stuff is meant to arouse, it’s not meant to be realistic, but my question is....

Like when characters have anal, esp when it’s spontaneous, is that typically/realistically a thing?? Like esp in more horror / dark erotica, the idea of “surprise anal”, that just seems like a bad idea to me (aside from the moral and legal issues that is)??? Because you don’t know that person’s bathroom habits???? You don’t know what’s in there????

Am I nuts for thinking this? Or am I not alone in this boat? Do you not have to prep for anal? Are these characters not worried about things getting messy? Or is my worry about sex being messy an indication I’m not ready for that kind of sex?

((Healthline says stool sits higher up in the rectum but I’ve had instances where it’s been sitting at the outer sphincter ready to go. Maybe that’s yet another me thing (or in’s thing) but the question has been bugging me lately.))

idk what to tell you man some people aren't afraid of a little mess

[velvetvexations]

Chiming in on the whole "do tmascs/the transandrophobia community actually harass tfems on the scale that is claimed" thing, I've been wondering that for a while too, especially since back when [Popular Trans Blogger] was dealing with The Most Normal CEO Ever I saw literally EVERY SINGLE major voice in transandrophobia circles immediately drop everything, put aside all the harassment and hate they had faced, make it clear that trans people being harmed by cishet society comes before discussing deeper theory, and basically non-stop post about how she didn't deserve that and openly critique tumblr's transphobia and how it hurts tfems despite the fact that that user and her followers had been consistently vile to transmascs. Like they all jumped up to add their voices against the banning, it was so fucking clear they were able to prioritize protecting trans people no matter what, and no one ever really talks about it because they also don't gloat about putting the swords down for the greater good. It's just something they know needs to be done and they won't paint themselves as heroes or martyr for it.

On the other hand, I've never in my entire life seen a big TRF or anyone who travels in those circles ever stick their neck out when tmascs are experiencing harassment and transphobia, not once. Not even when it leads to the same unjust bans that tfems face(which do happen, at similar rates to tfem bloggers like the idea that the trans bans are a tfem only thing is simply not true). Like I've blogs that are constantly posting about how "if you never post anything about supporting trans women then you're probably a secret transmisognist" turn around and respond to people pointing out that they never post anything even vaguely supportive of tmascs(not even talking about discourse just the usual "trans men are valid and deserve support" positivity stuff that goes around) who are on their "side" by saying "um I'm a trans woman and this is my personal blog so I don't have to say nice things about trans men ever and it says absolutely nothing about me that I never have anything kind or nice to say about even the transmascs that are on my side/valid in my opinion and actually it's bigoted for you to demand I say nice things about other trans people fuck you kthxbye" and I just. What??

I know that there have been some cases of tmasc/transandrophobia bloggers harassing a trans woman, but like. It's pretty rare and usually only a couple of people. And that's still bad ofc but the scale is different for sure. In terms of big, influential tumblr users I swear every single time a popular tfem gets deactivated all the transandrophobia bloggers jump to their defense, meanwhile TRFs just gleefully go around attacking every trans guy who so much as breathes in their direction and calls you a transmisognist if you point out that it's fucked of them to have a double standard about trans rights. Or acts like "I said something bigoted and other members of my community got mad" is harassment. Like [Popular Tfem Musician] was def getting Harassed but I watched the whole thing unfold and while there were a few shitty tmascs chiming in, overall the harassment was led by an entirely different group who was mad about something unrelated, they just happened at the same time so everyone figured ALL the harassment was coming from tmascs when it very much was not.

(Also tmasc/transandrophobia bloggers are also constantly adding "if you're a follower and I see you bothering the person I'm talking about I'll report and block you myself" they like care a lot about all trans people and will show tf up for even ones they disagree with or who have directly harmed them when push comes to shove. [Popular MLP Tfem Artist] is still getting accused of harassing other trans women despite her constantly instructing her audience to leave everyone alone. And I have def seen way more transandrophobia bloggers call out any tmascs or other trans people on "their" side get ignored and deplatformed if they prove to be bad actors. I don't see TRFs doing that like. Ever. Like they go "take our the trash in your community" to tmascs but pretend they can't read when someone asks them to denounce people who openly harasses tmascs. Or just makes excuses for them because surely we can't actually harm a trans man, it doesn't count.)

But yeah I fully assume the reason TRFs say no one ever harasses tmascs but that they harass tfems all the time is because they simply do not think harassing trans people is wrong so long as it's directed at the correct target. I mean why would the "trans men don't have real problems" crowd ever actually say anything nice about them or help them when they're being harassed or tell their followers to leave them alone? It's just really sad to watch, big tmasc bloggers are not harassing people the way the TRFs want everyone to think, and they certainly don't harass other trans people the way TRFs do, but they get burdened with the harassment accusations and no one thinks to even check if that's actually what's happening.

10/10, I have nothing to add.

[angelicqsa]

𝘾𝙍𝙐𝙎𝙃.

︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 | 𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦.

𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨 | 𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩! 𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨.

You have just moved to the outer banks, some may call it the paradise on earth but you don't exactly see why people call it that since many of your interactions have been with stuck up bitches.

There's also these names being thrown around, "kook" and "pogue" you have no idea what either of them are but from what you can tell being a pogue isn't to good.

You move to the figure 8 a real beautiful place in the outer banks, rich cars, big mansions, mini mansions and golf courses. After you move you often visit the huge community garden.

It's been about a month since you moved, your days usually consisting of reading, tanning, visiting the garden and sometimes swimming. You didn't really have any friends. Until about a few day ago a girl named Sarah Cameron sees you in the garden and pursues a conversation with you...

"Those are probably the most beautiful hydrangeas i've seen." Her feminine voice cuts through the sudden silence and murmurs of the garden.

You gasp with a panicked looked and whip your head back, startled from the sudden voice.

"Im so sorry! i didnt mean to startle you! are you okay?" Sarah jumbles out with guilt.

You are slightly surprised she was even talking to you, but decide to smile softly and shyly say "Its okay, you didn't mean to."

She smiles with you and holds out her hand, "Im Sarah by the way, i love that top of yours it's so gorgeous"

"Thank you! i love your shorts! the bows add a nice touch" You hear a deep masculine voice call out for Sarah, the voice didn't sound too far, Sarah heard the voice then turns around and say "Over here!"

You look around awkwardly, a random girl randomly comes and talks to you, if you didn't know any better you would think it's a setup of some kind, but you gave her and her... friends.. the benefit of the doubt and turn around and continue gazing at the hydrangeas.

After a few seconds you hear a pair of footsteps, your back is to them so you continue minding your business.

"Who's your friend?" Another deep voice says, his was higher than the one before.

Them calling out your presence causes you to turn around slightly panicked and feeling slightly ambushed by the attention.

You see a Sarah standing next to a tall guy with slightly slicked back blonde hair and a buttoned up shirt.. a bit fancy for a garden but whatever, on the other side of him theres this gorgeous man..

Tall, buzzed cut brunette hair, beautiful blue eyes, sunkissed and one hell of a smile.

You were at a lost for words, completely frozen just staring at this man, and he was staring right back at you with the same amount of maybe admiration..? lust? you didn't know, but you gazed right back into his slim blue eyes.

"This is uh.. uhm.. i didnt catch her name.." Sarah says sheepishly with a small smile.

She wait a few minutes as her, and both mystery men were staring at you.

The mystery guy with blonde hair looks at the blue eyed boy then looks at you catching on to what was happening and snickers. Sarah, completely oblivious then waves her hands "Helloooo? Earth to mystery girl".

This causes you to snap out of the i guess you could say.. trance? you were in and look at her and blonde boy, "Sorry! Im Y/N!"

Sarah smiles and says "Well this is my boyfriend Topper" She looks up at the blonde dude and he just smiles and extends his hand for you to shake . He gave off a vibe of one of those douchebags who act innocent.

You shake his hand and smile, you then look at the buzzed brunette waiting to get his name, you were excited even.

"Im Rafe, Rafe Cameron." He says with a full smile, perfectly white teeth. 'Jesus he's like my dream man' you thought.

Eager, you go to shake his hand quicker than you did with the others.

It was safe to say you were intrigued with Rafe and his presence.

They ask if you wanted to join them to see the rest of the flowers, little did they know you already saw them all and really enjoyed going to the garden. Nonetheless you still agree deeming them kind with pure intentions.

Here you are now, back in the garden, your new safe haven in the crazy world. A picture of the gorgeous boy pops in your head, his smirk, his eyes.. his big veiny hands you imagine him touching you in all the right places with them. You squeeze your legs at the thought, praying no one noticed.

"Well well well.. if it isnt new girl in town, with a slight staring problem" That familiar deep voice murmurs from behind you.

You turn around, surprised to hear his voice again.

"Seems like you also have a staring problem from what i recall?" You say with a slight smirk.

He grins at you and nods, 'he looks fucking perfect' you thought. Sunkissed skin, a nice baby blue button up, khaki shorts and a glimmering silver chain.

You were admiring him once again which he notices immediately and smirks.

"You are adorable" He says.

This catches you off guard and snaps you immediately out of the trance, adorable?? 'is he flirting with me right now??, what should i say??' you panic. You immedietly recover.

"Adorable you say? why's that hm?" You say with false confidence.

"Your little cute dress and bows." He says while moving his hands towards your bow and his smirk forming into a smile.

You smile and blush at the compliment at a loss of words. You didnt exactly know what to do or how to react, you didnt exactly have much experience with stuff like this.

Noticing your pause, he lunges towards the hibiscus bush and plucks one off the leafy bush, then proceeds to put it in your hair which pulls your bang back.

You two were close, extremely close. You look up at him with a smile, still blushing profusely.

He looks down at you with a small smirk.

So much tension was in the air. You only just met this guy.. how could you feel this way about him after one interaction. You felt a little embarrassed, but the way he looks at you, the way his hand felt with yours, the way his presence alone speaks volumes was more than enough to override the embarrassment.

"Thank you.." You squeak out nervously with a smile.

"No problem" He murmurs, his icy blue eyes still boring into yours. After a few moments and the whispers of the wind, he backs away slightly.

You couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed, which was pathetic considering you just met him and dont exactly know him.

But that adds to the intrigue you have.

Rafe on the other hand couldnt believe his eyes. When he first walked into the garden he immediately spotted you, 'The gorgeous girl from last week'.

Before he had a chance to go up and speak to you, you were already off and walking away towards the bush area of the garden.

He decided to pursue you and walk in your direction.

When he met you for the first time he couldn't believe his eyes. You didnt look anywhere taller than 5'2 or 5'3, luscious blonde hair that when kissed by the sunlight seemed to glow, gorgeous green eyes and a cute little pink dress.

He knew the moment he laid eyes on you, he had to have you, despite you being new to the island and typically tried to avoid the 'newbies'.

When your pretty green doe eyes first gazed into his and made eye contact, he felt his heart beat fast. 'Jesus she's making me feel things.. we only just met' He thought.

When you spoke in that soft and sweet tone, he was on a mission to hear that voice again.. and again.. and again.. he'd never get tired of hearing it.

After the first interaction, he was eager to run into you again, so he thought 'There a chance i could catch her at the garden again, you cant see everything after one visit...'

And he was sure right, he laid eyes on you and immediately felt giddy, which was something that doesn't happen often.

Now here you two were, with smiles on your faces. And you decide to speak up.

"How's Sarah?"

"She okay, i think you should hang with us, last time you did it was pretty fun" Rafe says with a smile.

You feel like jumping up and down with excitement but obviously you couldnt so you just grin and say "Well thank you, you guys were pretty fun to! and i'd love to hang with yall again!"

He smiles and nods. He pauses for a second seeming like he was contemplating.

He then says, "How about we hang one on one? You and I?"

You are completely caught off guard but nonetheless you were extremely happy that he suggested that.

You nod your head and softly say "I'd love that. When would you like to?"

He smiles and looks around, "Now sounds perfect. Is that okay?"

You say 'yes of course' embarrassingly fast and eager.

You both persue the garden looking at different bushes and flowers and facts about them you didnt focus to much on it since you've been there a lot. You mainly focus on the conversations you have with Rafe.

The similarities you both have, your hobbies and what makes you happy. You both bonded greatly.

You couldn't stop grinning and having a feeling of luck.

You both eventually get tired of walking and he offers to take you to a restaurant called 'The Wreck' and you obviously agree.

You two had a great time and you got to know him very well and you both clicked. You felt happy, light and airy once he dropped you off home. You were really starting to feel glad to be in the Outer Banks. Thanks to Rafe Cameron.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 ☄. *. ⋆

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐яєqυєѕт!

─────⋆˚࿔𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐪𝐬𝐚𝜗𝜚˚⋆─────

[schattenhonig]

As someone whose parents grew up and were politically active in GDR (German Democratic Republic, a socialist surveillance regime) and taught me most of these when I was a child, I'd like to add:

Be very, VERY careful what you post on social media, as every post contains information about you, even if it's something you don't think is important. They can and will collect every snippet and put them together like a puzzle, and you never know to what conclusions they might come

Don't discuss sensitive topics in front of children. No matter how often you tell them to keep quiet about it, they will probably mess up. Not because they're stupid or can't fathom the importance, but because they cannot recognise questioning techniques. Hell, even grown-ups can't, that's the whole point!

Build a public persona that isn't too far from the truth so you don't have to put in so much effort. This is a long game, and consistency is key. You have no strong preferences for the next four years. You become Norman McNormalpants.

Do not discuss politics. Ever.

If you know someone who is part of a resistance group, no, you don't. You haven't heard from them in months. Even if you're part of that group, too.

Nothing ever is free. If an app or service says it is, no, they're not. They're going to sell your data, and they don't care who is buying. Morality will always lose to the right leverage.

You have no idea how much data they can get about you. They can and will use anything they can find, from locating you via the pictures you take with your phone and uploading them to a cloud to what you bought on which day via payback cards and your Alexa shopping list

You have no idea how much and which information they already have about you, and you have no idea how much references to others they can find in your data.

You have no idea how they will get information about you. Everyone and everything could be a spy. Yes, even your granny, definitely your phone and Alexa, and I wouldn't trust the fridge or the roomba either.

Bravery and stupidity look very much the same, so don't do anything stupid. Taking risks will get you in trouble sooner rather than later. You're no use to any resistance or your family and friends when you're incarcerated or shot down. Small acts of kindness and defiance go a long way, but always calculate the risks first.

I know this sounds really paranoid, and maybe it is, and although I definitely don't want to scare anyone, those next four years might get tough. It's good to know a few things, and keep them in mind, when shit hits the fan. Do whatever you have to do to keep your loved ones and yourselves safe. Being considerate and careful is no cowardice.

reminders for today:

if you or someone you know might need it in the next few years, purchase plan b. the shelf life of plan b is 4 years, and we might not be able to access it as easily as we can now in the days ahead.

if you are larger/plus size: go online and purchase ella instead of plan b. plan b is less effective if you aren’t under 160 pounds.

if you can, purchase books that project 2025 is looking to ban.

mass deportations are starting. if you see ice vehicles or agents, yell ice raid and la migra as loud as you can.

if someone asks who you voted for, keep your mouth shut. they’re fishing for traitors.

if anyone, anyone at all asks about your neighbors or their legal status in the us, you know nothing. don’t be the reason that their family is separated.

if anyone asks about your religion or lack thereof, keep it vague. this administration will look for any excuse to persecute you.

your friends are trans or queer? for the next four years they’re not. don’t expose anyone’s status as a trans or queer person to anyone else, even if you think you can trust them.

did someone you know get an abortion? no, they didn’t. they were never pregnant.

in short, don’t be a snitch, and keep to yourself these next four years. we’ll make it through this even if it seems hopeless at times.

this is all i can think of at the moment, but i’ll be adding on to this as the day continues.

we can survive this. we’ve survived before, and we’ll survive again.

[tossawary]

It's very common for sports-centric original fiction to make up teams and players from scratch, so as to avoid writing even adjacent Real Person Fiction and any potential difficulties that might come from that.

The author goes: "This romance novel takes place in an AU where the Toronto Blue Jays don't exist and the main character plays for the only baseball team that Toronto has ever had, the Beavermooses, so that I don't get sued into the ground." And the readers go: "👍 Understood. Have a nice day."

I was browsing through my local library's online catalogue the other day and happened across "The Foxhole Court", which I vaguely remembered being a somewhat popular sports-based series on here about 10 years ago, so I clicked on it out of curiosity. Had a bit of a journey that started with "Oh, there's serious organized crime in this college sports story???" and continued on with "There is A Lot Happening here all of the time, huh..." and ultimately ended with "Okay, I see how that was originally conceived as a sports anime type of thing!" Quite violent! Entertaining in a "I would want to know none of you messy, tragically abused and traumatized people in real life" kind of way.

But what tickles me most about this book is that this is the first time I've encountered a novel just make up a sport from scratch for plot reasons and fun. That's such a delightfully funny writing choice. "AU where the U.S.A. got reeeeeaaaaally into Squash Lacrosse Fight Ball!" I had no idea. It's already funny in sports anime when high schoolers are saying shit like, "But curling is my entire life!!! I'd DIE for curling!!!" but it's even funnier seeing a main character actually risk his life to play [stickball sport made up for this series].

[tahbhie]

The Act of Writing Psychotic Characters 

Part 1: Attention vs Intention

It's been a while since I received this request, and I ensured I took my time with the thoughts, evaluation, and analysis. This topic will be covered in three parts, so here's the first.

Before we proceed, please note that I am not a psychiatrist, psychologist, or any professional in that field. This is just an insight into how this kind of concept can fit into your novels.

Okay, let's begin.

The Attention vs Intention part of this topic will discuss two ways of portraying these type of characters in scenes. 

First, you need to understand that psychotic characters aren't psychotic based solely on their speeches or actions. If that's all you have in mind before approaching a story, you might leave a huge gap in the execution.

Rather, it's how they feel—the desire to satisfy their current emotions.

They have drives and motives, but most especially beliefs which, in most cases, are hardly understandable by other people. It's wrong and unacceptable by society, but to them, they wouldn't do it any differently.

That's why most psychotic characters have no remorse. You simply can't apologize or feel sorry if you don't 'believe' that you're in the wrong.

➜ Attention Psychosis

Psychotic characters whose main purpose in a story is limited to presence (i.e., showing up in scenes and visibly serving the role of a psychotic character) are attention psychotics. You don't flesh out their backstory or why they are who they are.

Their drives and motives aren't talked about enough to the point of justification. Readers hardly care about them, but the action they bring to the scene creates a rich narrative with the purpose of psychosis.

In summary, their role is minor. We see such cases in movies like The Babysitter.

Let's agree that none of the cult characters in that movie are exactly sane, as their main aim is to end their victims’ lives in the sickest ways possible. However, there's a certain character, Max, who simply enjoys the idea of "killing and seeing people bleed."

That has exceeded the central idea of being a cultist who gets involved in blood sacrifice to achieve their 'dream life' like the rest of the characters. It's now something more and different.

Something that has to do with homicidal ideation.

Max worked in a diner where he dealt with people that annoyed him so greatly that he wanted to kill them. So he got the opportunity to join a cult and do just that.

It was plain clear this guy had something else going on for him, but throughout the movie, his character had no special attention or even a peek into his thoughts. Although, it still worried the audience. Job done.

➜ Intention Psychosis

When a story is centered around a character's mental state, their motives, drives, beliefs, actions, and the story actually unfolds by going deeper into this concept, you have intention psychosis.

If not entirely, at least mostly, it defines the entire plot surrounding that character. People get to understand why they are who they are, their mode of action, what drives them, and even a peek into how they perceive the world around them.

Such scenarios are seen in movies like The Joker and Pyramid game (Korea). The audience gets a glimpse into their overall life and understands at least to an extent why they are the way they are.

Their beliefs get twisted for certain reasons, and there was just no stopping them. Here the characters were more than a presence; they were a central core.

In the movie Joker, we watched Arthur’s impoverished life unfold, with every event and incident worsening his condition further.

Baek Ha-rin in Pyramid Game literally created an entire game system to watch a student, who happened to be her old friend, suffer both physically and mentally. She went to great lengths to carry out this nefarious act under the guise of the game. Although this movie encompassed more than just this storyline, it was hard to ignore the unhealthy drive and actions of the young lady with an innocent face.

Before incorporating a psychotic character in your novel, determine their form of portrayal and appearance in the overall story. Are they going to serve as an attention psychotic or an intention psychotic?

Inspired by @sothera

Stay tuned for the next part!

۝ Before you go! ۝

My Characters and I is an extensive one-on-one coaching session designed to create characters that leap off the pages and become best friends with your readers.

What's a great story without remarkable characters? Spots are filling up fast, so grab yours now and get ahead of millions of writers out there.

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[cupcakedieabetes]

Dumpster Baby Part 3

<<First, <-Previous

Dick, as Robin, huffed in anger, scouting out the rooftops alone as he had ran from Batman after an argument.

Batman thought he was so incompetent because he was still young, Dick would show him for sure when he finds THE kidnapper.

The kidnapper had been showing mostly in poorer parts. Nobody knew if it was a group, but most testimonies either didn't want to talk about it, or they didn't even know that their children disappeared in the first place.

Dick thought, it would be a great idea to show Batman that he was competent by being bait without his help. Dick was still young enough to be one of the targets, either as his civilian form or as Robin, so he could go as either, anyways.

Despite being alone, Dick knows that Batman still has trackers and cameras on Robin, so he could use this as proof so that Batman didn't have to be so annoying with his nagging.

It was kind of chilly in the middle of the night, so Robin huddled on a rooftop, peering below to observe a potential kidnapping.

"B̸̫̐̚á̶̝͝b̶̦͌̔ẙ̸̢͈???"

Robin whirled around, eyes widened, and screamed

-------------------------------------------------------

Batman rushed to the area where Robin was, having just observed him from far when the cameras on him, both visual and audio went fuzzy.

But what he can tell last was Robin screaming in terror. Batman didn't know what exactly did Robin encountered, but whatever it was, he didn't want to be too late for whatever it is.

This was why he kept trying to bench Robin. He didn't want a dead child on his hand, something that was entirely preventable if he was stricter..

The tracker on Robin was also untrackable, so Batman went the classic way of tracing his last whereabouts through the cameras, finding the fuzzyness that lead him to a warehouse.

He slammed open the door to the entrance, weapons ready to attack, but found it empty. But not quite.

Batman cautiously entered into the warehouse, finding transparent glowing people ignoring him. Apparitions? There were so many, and what fo-

He whirled around, feeling that someone was staring at him, only to see an eyeball staring at him.

He threw a Batarang at the eyeball, only for it to pass through. So he decided to launch himself at it, kicking it and punching it, but still it went through the eyeball.

Long glowing green hands extended from the floor and restricted his movements. Batman struggled against the hands, even resorting to biting it, but found that he could not get out of the bindings.

The hands started bringing him somewhere with the eyeball leading. Eyeballs. More and more eyeball started appearing, all to stare at him.

"BATMAN!!!" His head whirled around to spot Robin, safe and unharmed, and most of all, FREE, running towards him.

"It's okay!! Batman is just worried about me!!!" Dick looked at an eyeball.

The eyeball just kept on staring alongside the other eyeballs, but the hands slowly removed itselves from him.

"Batman! I found the kidnapper! And you wouldn't believe it!!!" Dick dragged Batman by the arm, but the adult was firm in place.

"Explain. Otherwise, I'll be telling this to Agent A."

Robin winced and whined.

"That's why!!! I'm dragging youuuuu to show youuuuuu." Robin tilted back while hanging onto his arms.

Batman let himself be led by Robin to a room. And for the first time in a while since his debut as Batman, did he get shocked at something he had never encountered before.

I wrote this in a way that Dick still isn't able to separate himself from 'Robin' and 'Dick' while Batman is able to separate the identities completely.

[renthony]

Normally I'd just delete this comment and block this blatant troll blog, but this is the kind of shit I need allies to see and recognize as hateful.

The scare quotes around the word intersex, and the insistence that intersex people are still "really" male or female is an attempt to deny intersex people our very existence.

The fixation on chromosomes is textbook intersexism and transphobia rolled into one. There are many, many ways to be intersex. Relying on chromosomes as the ultimate definer of sex is just as asinine as relying on genitals.

The "both genders" shit is also classic intersexism and transphobia rolled into one. Sex and gender are not the same thing. There are more than two sexes. There are more than two genders. Intersex people can be any gender. Some intersex people are cis, some intersex people are trans, some intersex people identify outside the cis/trans binary entirely.

The fixation on intersex traits being a medical condition and a "birth defect" is a way to other us and medically abuse us. The idea that being intersex can't be its own identity, and intersex people are just "disordered," is the foundation of horrific amounts of medical torture. The idea that we have to be medically "corrected" to our "true" sex is why intersexist doctors get away with horrific abuse and why many intersex people have been subjected to nonconsensual surgeries and medical rape.

Many intersex people are forcibly assigned a binary sex. Some intersex variations are not visible at birth, so we get assigned a sex based on visible genitals, only for our intersex traits to present at puberty. The intersex variations that are visible at birth are often surgically altered by doctors, frequently without the parents' knowledge or informed consent. Sometimes the parents are in on it, too, because intersex people are widely treated as having "defects" that have to be "corrected," regardless of whether those intersex traits actually pose a threat to our health.

Intersex people are not trying to "push" into LGBT spaces. We are already here. We have been here the entire fucking time. Many of us are queer in ways other than our intersex identity, but even if someone only identifies as intersex, they are queer. Trying to rigidly define queer identity and police what identities are "allowed" in queer spaces is cop shit. ACAB. Go fuck yourself if you're involved in any kind of "who counts as LGBT?!" discourse.

Intersex people are not inherently transgender, but we are hugely impacted by many of the same bigotry and legal challenges that trans people are. People who shut down calls for solidarity between transgender and intersex people are only interested in keeping us divided so we're easier to destroy.

Be an ally to intersex people. Listen to us, learn our struggles, and fight for us. We are being targeted, and almost nobody gives a shit--even people who should be our strongest allies.

I grit my teeth and read the entire executive order regarding trans people, and I just want to take the opportunity to remind folks not to forget intersex people. One of the rescinded documents is “Supporting Intersex Students: A Resource for Students, Families, and Educators," and there is a huge emphasis on legally enshrining "only two sexes."

Yes, this affects trans people, but with the way intersex voices often get ignored in trans spaces, I just want to remind folks not to shut us out. Don't forget us. Don't keep talking over us. Don't act like we aren't on the front lines. Don't act like this is just about you. Please.