#fuck this entire fucking business model

[pawzunyan]

I just got ☆ Fired ☆

i dont have money to fly home yet and theyre just gonna kick me out :D knowing i do not have the money to afford a flight home. fuck you Xanterra Travel Collection.

[ari-birdgod]

i think we should put whoever approved this discord ui update into a comically large blender

[drumlincountry]

If the entire internet went dark tomorrow, what would you lose? What would you lose that you can't afford to lose? How do you save it?

[lilyfreshwater]

ELON MUSK PUT A LIMIT OF HOW MANY POSTS YOU CAN READ A DAY ON TWITTER????? IS HE FUCKING CRAZY??????

[cemeterym]

i should be allowed to start maiming doctors

[prokopetz]

The whole Reddit thing is an especially striking example of corporate brain rot because, like, they managed to build their entire business model on the back of exploiting vast quantities of unpaid volunteer labour, and successfully convinced the entire Internet that this is a normal state of affairs. How do you fuck that up? How do you convince yourself that instituting a de facto demand for your very nearly 100% volunteer workforce to pay you for the ability to use the tools that are required to do their job is anything other than cutting your own throat?

[intersectionalpraxis]

Children as young as 6, working 12 hour days digging by hand, receiving $1 a day…think about it before you purchase your next laptop/electric vehicle

Free Congo🇨🇩 & end consumerism and wasteful consumption.

Apple Hub (not affiliated with Apple Official, but their account is influencial/popular among Apple users-adding this for context [01/07/24.]. They posted this a few days ago -it's about 2 different phone models (for fucking display changes).

Apple has been hyper-exploiting people in the Global South to mine for resources to make their products for YEARS, and I need more people to stop buying (unless necessity requires it -I waited 7-8 years before I had to change my phone, and next time I do it'll be a refurbished one) -until these entire systems are dismantled and made to be be ethical in every aspect of their businesses and not just on paper, boycott them.

I also know that Apple will change one spec and advertise like it's the greatest thing since sliced bread, so to speak -and this cult-following just eats this up time and again. If you're not already informed about this inherently violent and corrupt industry -then get to know. And stop supporting these companies.

[etls]

so fucking angry. why. why did my mum KNOWINGLY treat me worse because she knew some of what I had been through and knew she couldn't fix it. so she minimised everything I felt. ridiculed me for showing any emotion. still does so to this day. but she ADMITTED. that she fucking abused me my entire LIFE, because I was going through so much that my mental health wasn't fixable by her. so she chose to add to my issues? and now she gets fucking upset when I tell her I will never be her fucking friend? that we will never get along? you fucking CAUSED this jo-anne you did this to your fucking SELF.

[autolenaphilia]

It's funny how clearly uninformed a lot of criticism of Mozilla and its browser Firefox is. Like people say "it's just another corporation, out to make profit, just like Google." And that ordinary users promoting Firefox are just giving them free advertising.

It's in basically any post criticizing Mozilla, including on this site. Like using tumblr search I quickly found a post that was largely positive, but argued that Mozilla operates "under capitalist incentives" And outside tumblr I found a blog post out on the interwebs that criticized Mozilla and outright wondered "I don't know if Mozilla's business model ever made sense, it makes a lot more sense if it's something closer to a nonprofit rather than a commercial entity."

Well, let's research the Mozilla Corporation, see what that business model actually is. Let's begin that research by going to the wikipedia article, and read the two introductory paragraphs. And it turns out that it's "a wholly owned subsidiary of the Mozilla Foundation", which is a non-profit.

"The Mozilla Foundation will ultimately control the activities of the Mozilla Corporation and will retain its 100 percent ownership of the new subsidiary. Any profits made by the Mozilla Corporation will be invested back into the Mozilla project. There will be no shareholders, no stock options will be issued and no dividends will be paid. The Mozilla Corporation will not be floating on the stock market and it will be impossible for any company to take over or buy a stake in the subsidiary."

Turns out that it is not just "closer to a non-profit", it is literally a non-profit. Turns out you only needed two paragraphs on wikipedia to learn that, the most basic online research possible, which basically every post I found criticizing Mozilla failed to do.

This is entirely different from any other entity calling itself corporation, which is all about creating profit or money for its shareholders, the "capitalist incentives" spoken about earlier.

If you read further into that article, you will learn that the Mozilla corporation literally only exists separate from the foundation for tax and legal purposes, but it's still a non-profit operation.

This makes it reasonably immune from the enshittification process I've written about before. there is no incentive to fuck over the experience for end users for the sake of shareholder profits, like what tumblr is doing right now.

It means that Firefox is an exemption to the rule that "if something is free, you are the product", because there is no product to produce profits for shareholders, it's a charitable endeavour for a free and open internet, as laid out in the Mozilla manifesto.

This doesn't mean non-profits make corruption impossible, there is plenty of corruption in non-profit foundations. But unlike actual capitalist corporations, it doesn't have the greed and corruption built in. And if you are going to criticize Mozilla and Firefox, which it does sometimes deserve, you should have your basic facts straight before doing so, if you expect me to take you seriously.

[plutotheplum]

Socks and Kisses

leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: a spontaneous shopping trip has leon re-evaluating his friendship with you.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, p in v, spanking, oral sex, praise kink, fluff, friends/roommates to lovers, fantasizing

wc: 3.7k

also posted on ao3!

There’s a shriek leaving you when you trip over a bundle of shoes in the doorway. It nearly sends you hurtling towards the floor, but there’s an arm curling around your waist, tugging you up before you can fall. Leon.

You glare up at your roommate, shoving at his chest so it sends him stumbling.

“Seriously, Leon? How many times have I told you to put your shoes to the side of the doorway?” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.

He winces at your shrill voice, his hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I was busy,” he says, his eyes pleading with you, “you know with… with work.”

You’re shooting him an unimpressed look, pushing past him to put the groceries on the kitchen counter. It was your day to collect them anyways. Living with Leon had happened entirely by accident. One shittily written apartment listing later and the poor guy was standing outside your door, begging you to let him move in. It hadn’t been so bad. Leon had been nice, and you two had gotten along well, becoming friends even. The only thing you couldn’t stand was how messy the man was.

Empty boxes from delivered packages, stray parchment sheets from when he’d bake himself something and socks strewn haphazardly across the floor, much like his shoes. Leon had practically turned your apartment into a deathtrap. 

You don’t get to reminisce for much longer, not when he’s reaching for the pack of popsicles you’d bought. Leon lets out a low whine, like a kicked puppy, when you swat his hand away and shoot him an irritated glance. “I’m putting my foot down,” you tell him firmly, “no more unorganized socks, shoes or- or anything for that matter!”

Leon only tilts his head, blinking over at you. You glance towards the clock before your eyes are flitting back to meet his.

“Ikea,” you explain, “we’re going to Ikea to get you some organizers or whatever.” 

“ Now? ” Leon asks, raising his brows “but I was going to go to the gym with Chris and-” he’s shutting up when he sees your hardened glare.

Leon lets out an exasperated huff, and you’re smiling over at him, happy you’ve won this argument. Just to reward him, you’re digging out a popsicle from the pack and handing it to him. “So stubborn,” he mumbles under his breath, freeing the popsicle from its wrapper. 

“I heard that,” you reply, sticking your tongue out at him.

You both finish up your popsicles, and you’re tossing him his car keys while you pull your shoes on again. 

“Why do I have to drive?” he complains, leaning against the doorway.

“Because it’s your mess,” you retort, rolling your eyes, “and you’re paying as well.”

Leon lets out a scoff, “oh, fuck you.”

You smile back at him, patting him on the shoulder for some comfort. You manage to annoy him a little more during the drive to Ikea, and Leon’s contemplating whether he should just stuff your mouth with the rolled up catalog you’re currently holding

It’s when you both get to the kitchen area that Leon realizes something’s wrong. His eyes are watching the way you bend over the model kitchen counter, gaze trained on the way your skirt rides up slightly, exposing the backs of your thighs. He swallows harshly, wondering what it might be like to come up behind you, grab your hips and grind his cock against your ass. 

Your voice breaks him out of his dazed thoughts, your hand waving him over as you point to the price tag.

“Don’t you think this is a catch?” You ask him, head tilting back to meet his eyes.

“A catch?” He echoes, raising his brows, “it’s $2000 . Do you even have $2000?” 

You roll your eyes, elbowing him in the stomach. “Don’t be such a jerk, Leon. I think it’d look good in our apartment.”

There it is. Our apartment. The words are so comfortably domestic that it has Leon’s knuckles squeezing tight around the basket he’s holding. He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t imagined you two dating. Especially after that time he’d come home drunk one night. You’d taken care of him so sweetly, despite all of your grumbles and chastisements, that Leon felt like he was falling in love.

That had only happened once though, and Leon wasn’t prepared to make a big deal about his feelings so he buried them deep down and carried on with his life.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on his little crush any longer, brows furrowing when he feels the basket in his hand grow heavier. You’ve been milling about, dumping various little trays and organizational tidbits into the basket.

“At this point, I think you’re trying to max out my card,” he drawls, trailing after you.

“I’m helping you, Leon” you shoot back, bringing a candle up to your nose to smell its scent.

It’s not until you both get to the bedding area that Leon realizes he might actually be losing it. 

He’s sitting down on the edge of one of the beds, the basket settled on the floor with how heavy it’s become. 

You’re fluttering about, checking out the duvet covers and pillow cases. His eyes watch over you, letting you take a seat beside him on the bed when you find a duvet cover you like.

“Pretty, right?” You ask him, showing him the design.

“I guess,” he murmurs absentmindedly. 

He thinks you look prettier though. Besides, it’s not like he can tell you that he’s imagining taking you on this very bed. Your face pressed into the pillows, his cock stuffed into your pussy. You’d probably make cute noises too, clench around his cock while he thrusted into you. He’d let everyone watch, he thinks, make sure everyone knew that you were his. 

You’re snapping your fingers in his face, trying to get him to pay attention to you.

“Are you okay?” You ask, staring into his eyes “you keep getting distracted.”

“What?” Leon flushes, clearing his throat “yeah- yeah I’m fine… just had enough of you is all.”

You swat his shoulder and he rolls his eyes. Both of you manage to get to the checkout without any further bickering. Leon’s card doesn’t max out thankfully, but you wince when you see the total, ignoring Leon’s glower as he tears the receipt from the machine.

To make up for the spontaneous shopping spree, you buy him a soft serve and hand it to him with a smile. 

Leon takes it with a grumble, his eyes dropping to the way you lick at your soft serve. The icy treat smudges across your lips, and he’s reaching out before he can stop himself, his thumb swiping at the corner of your mouth to clean the mess. 

“Think you might be the messy one,” he mutters gruffly, drawing his hand back. 

“Your socks alone have nearly crippled me” you reply, nibbling at the cone to try and quell the race of your heart at his unexpected action. 

Leon lets out a loud sigh, shaking his head. The drive home is quiet, the soft sounds of the radio filling up the car’s space.

You help Leon with the stuff you bought, leaving the goods in his room before letting out a satisfied nod.

“There. Now you don’t have an excuse for being messy. Better start cleaning up, Leon” you chirp, giving him a snarky smile before tugging his door shut.

You sigh happily, mind feeling at ease. You’re sure that your apartment won’t be so messy anymore. The sounds of Leon rummaging inside his room almost make you feel bad, but this had been going on for months and you were glad you had done something about it. 

Deciding to grab some food, you reach for the can of peaches on the kitchen counter. By some misfortune, your hand accidentally knocks the can, sending it rolling towards the edge. Letting out an irritated huff, you’re reaching across the counter to grab the can before it falls off. 

While this happens, you’re blissfully unaware of the fact that your skirt is riding up. Leon feels his heart nearly jump out of his chest at the sight when he had wandered out of his room to grab a garbage bag. 

He can see the swell of your ass, your cheeks peeking out from your panties as you’re bent over, grabbing the can of peaches. 

“Have you made it some sort of mission to bend over every kitchen counter you see?” he asks dryly, his arms crossing over his chest.

You squeak in surprise, body jolting. The can of peaches slips from your hand pitifully, landing on the floor with a loud thunk .

“Why are you sneaking up on me?” You whine, turning to give him a glare.

Leon doesn’t reply, coming to a stop in front of you. His blue eyes are dark, dirty blonde hair hanging over his forehead.

“Um… Leon?” You wave your hand in front of his face. 

“I’m starting to think you’re doing it on purpose,” he murmurs, his hand catching yours.

“Hm?” he squeezes your hand, his head lowering so he can stare right into his eyes, “bending over every kitchen counter so I can see your pretty ass?” 

You manage to gather your wits, letting out a loud scoff and push at his chest.

“You’re such a perv, Leon!” you accuse, narrowing your eyes and placing your hands on your hips. 

“I’m not a perv if you keep bending over like that!” he shoots back, his hands grabbing at your forearms to tug you towards him. 

You swallow harshly when his calloused hands drift past your wrists, finding your hands and lacing his fingers with yours. The warmth of his body seeps into yours and your head is tilting, eyes finding his.

“We- we are not fucking,” you whisper, shaking your head.

“Who said anything about fucking?” Leon asks, his head lowering again. 

His body presses against yours, causing your breath to hitch. You’re biting your lip at the way it feels, the hard planes of his body molding against yours.

“One kiss,” he whispers, peering into your eyes, “please? Just one kiss and it’ll be over.”

You’d be doing yourself a disservice if you denied his request. Leon was stupidly handsome even if he was a little annoying at times, and you had maybe masturbated to the thought of your roommate before.

“Did you happen to forget that we’re roommates?” you raise your brows, trying to voice your concerns.

“Roommates kiss all the time,” he says, his nose nudging against yours gently, “now c’mon, gimme a kiss.”

You don't know what sort of roommates he’s been hanging around, but you’re almost certain that roommates don’t kiss or do whatever the hell you two are doing right now. 

Leon doesn’t know what he’s doing either. That one shopping trip had seriously messed up his brain, but he was here now so there was no going back. Your lips look so pretty, your eyes all starry. He wants to kiss you senseless and bend you over that stupid kitchen counter while he fucks into you until you’re crying on his cock.

As if to encourage you a little more, he nudges his nose against yours again. You send him a glare, eyes slipping shut as you rock up on the tips of your toes and brush your lips against his. The kiss is fleeting, a mere touch of your lips against his, and it’s safe to say Leon is not impressed.

“There,” you say, trying to hide the smirk that spreads across your face, “you got a kiss. Now leave me alone.”

Leon lets out a low groan, his head falling against your shoulder, “you’re a fuckin’ tease, you know that?”

You hum, pushing at his chest, taking the opportunity to free yourself from the confines of his grasp.

“Not so fast,” he murmurs, his hand snagging onto your shirt, “c’mere baby.”

His low voice has the butterflies in your stomach fluttering, your eyes widening when his hands cup your cheeks and he presses his lips against yours.

It doesn’t take you long to respond, arms wrapping around his neck as he kisses you fiercely. He groans into your mouth, his arms winding around your waist to pull you closer. 

You’re both flush against each other and you let out an irritated noise when he shoves you up against the kitchen counter, feeling the solid surface dig into your back.

“Drove me crazy at that Ikea,” he whispers against your lips, his hands sneaking under your skirt to give your ass an appreciative grope, “thought about fucking you on one of those beds.”

The idea of it is so obscene and indecent that you find yourself moaning out loud.

“Yeah? You like that, baby? Me fucking you in front of everyone, letting them know that you’re mine?” 

You’re nodding desperately at his filthy questions, trying to tug his shirt off so you can see his chest and abdomen. He obliges you, quickly shrugging off his shirt. Your teeth sink into your lower lip at the sight, eyes half-lidded. 

You can’t help the way your body leans forward, lips pressing soft kisses across his chest and his pecs. Leon sucks in a sharp breath, his hands moving to cradle the back of your head.

“Just kisses, huh?” he murmurs.

You nod, peering up at him “no fucking, remember?”

He hums, tilting your head so he can kiss you again. Leon kisses you over and over until you can’t breathe. You’re feeling so dazed that you don’t even notice he’s spinning you around, bending you over the kitchen counter. There’s a soft whine escaping you when he flips your skirt up, his hands squeezing at your ass before his fingers slip under your panties, tugging the fabric back and letting it snap back against you.

Your fingers are scrabbling at the counter top when you feel him drop to his knees, his lips pressing against the skin of your ass. He kisses your body so reverently, you think you might actually pass out.

“Wanna kiss your pussy too,” he mumbles, tugging your panties down. You shudder when you feel his breath hit your sensitive skin, hips swaying back to meet the kisses he places on your clit.

His tongue lolls out before long, lapping at your cunt, collecting the slick that drips from you. 

“That- that is not kissing,” you whimper out, head falling against the coolness of the counter.

“Sure it is,” he whispers, burying his face deeper into your pussy, “just dirty kisses, sweetheart.”

The way he eats you out is messy. Leon’s trying to shove his face deeper between your thighs, his lips suctioning around your pussy. You mewl when he draws back and spits on your cunt, his mouth latching on soon after. You’re not sure how much longer you can hold on, knees beginning to shake. Leon delivers a particularly toe-curling suck to your clit and you’re shuddering, letting out whines and whimpers when he lets out a low laugh, his tongue swiping over your cunt repeatedly.

“Leon- fuck! Leon, ‘m gonna-” you can barely speak properly. 

“Then come , baby,” he whispers, his tongue pressing into your fluttering hole.

You squeal at the unfamiliar sensation, knuckles turning white as you come on his tongue. He licks up your slick eagerly, his wet lips pressing soft kisses against the swell of your ass as you pant.

He stands up, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. You press your back against his chest, turning your head to kiss along his jaw. His eyes flutter shut, his hands smoothing along your back to undo the clasp of your bra. 

Your arms lift and Leon helps you take off your shirt and bra, letting out a soft sigh as your head falls back against his shoulder. Leon’s hands are restless, reaching for your breasts. 

He hums at the sight of your hard nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers before letting go to squeeze your tits. 

“You’re real pretty, sweetheart” he whispers, kissing your cheek.

You mewl, cheeks flushing. You hadn’t expected him to talk to you so sweetly. Leon feels your body lurch forward, tits pressing against his palms. He laughs, giving another firm grope to your tits and finds your lips to give you another filthy kiss. While he kisses you, Leon grinds his hips against your ass, and you gasp into his mouth, feeling the outline of his cock through his shorts.

“Think my cock wants to give your cute pussy some kisses too,” he says, his mouth pressed against your ear, “you up for it, baby?”

You could be a bobblehead with how fast your head is moving up and down. Leon grins against your ear, placing another kiss to your cheek before he’s bending you over the counter. The coolness of the counter startles you slightly, but Leon’s hand rubs up and down your back, warming your skin. 

Tits squished against the hard surface, your feet on the tips of your toes, pussy glistening with his spit and your arousal, Leon can hardly believe his fantasy has come to fruition. He wants to take a picture, keep it safe and jerk off to the sight of you when he’s alone. There’s no pictures taken though, instead Leon’s hand delivers a heavy slap to one of your ass cheeks.

You moan, back arching slightly as you try and chase the feeling. It hurts and you can feel the sting of his palm prickling across your skin, but you want him to spank you again so badly.

“L- Leon, want more,” you mumble, looking back at him.

Leon takes your request in stride, his hand coming down on your ass repeatedly. Your body slumps against the counter, soft noises escaping you as he rains slap after slap onto your reddening skin. 

“Shit, sweetheart” he whispers, his hands smoothing over the damage he’s done to your ass “so fuckin’ pretty.”

There’s a babbled noise escaping you. Mind feeling like mush, all you can think about is Leon. He smooths his hands over your sensitive skin a few more times, trying to soothe the pain before you feel him squeeze gently as he presses the head of his cock against your aching hole.

Leon pushes into your pussy with a groan, his hands squeezing at your hips. It almost feels like he’s trying to ground himself.

“Fuck-” he hisses, drawing his hips back to thrust back into you again, “ fuck - you’re so tight, baby.”

You whimper at the feeling of his cock stretching you out. Leon’s thrusts are beginning to pick up in speed and you’re whining, the force of his thrusts making your body rub against the kitchen counter.

“Leon, Leon, Leon,” you chant his name and his body is draping over yours, lips pressing kisses to your shoulder and back, “feels so good,” you slur. 

His hips are rutting against your ass, cock stuffing you full. You’re moaning so loudly that Leon has to slip his hand over your mouth in an effort to quieten your noises. His balls are slapping against your clit and the combined stimulation is making your head spin.

Soon, his hand is leaving your mouth to grip your hips again. 

“Take my fucking cock,” he grunts, each word punctuated with a harsh slap to your ass. 

“It’s too much!” you wail, nails clawing at the counter to try and crawl away.

He growls, grip tightening as he keeps you in place, “don’t you dare run. Take my cock like a good girl, baby.”

“You’re insane,” you cry, but there’s a cockdrunk smile spreading across your face as he fucks into you. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, his head lowering so he can whisper into your ear, “and it’s all for you, because- because I like you.” 

There’s a loud whine ripping out of you at that, wet heat clenching around him. No one’s confessed to you before, like ever . You suck in a sharp breath, trying to calm your heart and stop the excited flipping of your stomach that comes with his confession.

Leon moans when he feels the clench of your walls around his cock and he’s fucking into you with renewed fervor. 

“I like you,” he whispers again “like you so much, sweetheart. Always taking care of me, looking out for me, makes me feel special.” 

“Only do that ‘cause you’re an idiot, Leon” you mumble, swallowing back another moan that threatens to spill out. 

“But you do it anyway,” he murmurs, driving his cock into you.

You gasp, eyes squeezing shut as his fat tip grazes the spot deep inside of you. He grunts when he feels you getting tighter, feels you clenching hard around his cock.

“You gonna come for me?” he asks, sucking little love bites onto your neck, “hm? Can feel you clenching around me, baby.”

“Wanna- wanna come at the same time,” you babble “right, Leon? Since- since you like me, we gotta come at the same time.”

He’s letting out a hoarse laugh, kissing your shoulder again, “yeah baby, I’m right there with you.”

All of a sudden, he’s burying himself to the hilt inside of you and your mouth drops open, a sharp noise leaving you as you both come. Your body is limp against the counter, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat as you pant. Leon kisses your neck, letting out a whine as his cum spurts into you. It’s warm and thick, filling you up so perfectly that it has a serene smile settling on your face.

He helps you onto your feet, his hands rubbing up and down your sides to soothe your shaky legs. You feel him press a soft kiss to the side of your head and you’re rocking up on the tips of your toes, returning a kiss to his cheek.

“I like you too, Leon” you whisper, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him down for another kiss. 

You can feel him smile against your lips and he’s kissing you back sweetly. Leon keeps you there for a while as you both kiss, his hands petting across your tired body.

He takes you to his room later, his hand encasing yours. The moment is almost perfect, if not for the sock on the floor that sends you careening into his desk. “Leon!” you grit out.

He only laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist as he picks you up and tosses you onto his bed.

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

[anarchywoofwoof]

i feel like i'm going to vomit

raytheon, who is a salesperson on behalf of agony and death, casually unfolded their disgusting, exploitative blueprint of human destruction in their latest earnings call. raytheon executives, in suits soaked with the blood and sweat of global suffering, gaped at the "opportunity" unfolding re: the ongoing war crimes and horrific brutality being carried out Palestine.

while Palestinians watch everything they've ever loved get turned to rubble, raytheon stockholders see dollars in destruction, profit in pain, and business blooming on the battlefield. imagine, turning the tremors of traumatized, suffering people into a system of fuel for your war machine - this is their normal. this is the shit that sales people at raytheon live for 9 hours a day and then go home and sleep at night.

history bleeds from the pages of raytheon's diary, filled with tales of technologized terror, largely carried out against minority peoples with little means to fight back or defend themselves. tales where human lives are turned into rows and columns on spreadsheets and civilizations’ calamities are converted into cold, hard cash trails.

meanwhile, the boardroom buzzes and swarms with heartless vultures, circling the globe, eyes peeled for the next plot of despair to descend upon, beaks ready to peck at the literal carrion of communities in conflict.

oh, and Biden's Defense Secretary was on the Board

“see a benefit,” they have the fucking audacity to say, as if the orchestras of war are trumpeting some sort of symphony of success for their gross and disgusting contributions. raytheon's portfolios pulsate with the rhythms of air strikes and raids, and their balance sheets boom with the bass of bombs dropping on communities that have been traumatized so many times over that they have nothing left to give.

in the tragedy of others, raytheon finds triumph. in the heartbeats silenced by their symphonies of destruction, they find the rhythm of their entire revenue stream.

the engine of exploitation, oiled with oppression and fueled by the flames of conflict, roars at the center of raytheon's profit model. call it out when you see it: capitalism is incompatible with the preservation of human life.

[x]

[k-hotchoisan]

mmmmmm been thinkin abt photographer!san right nd he is know for his boudoir photography but his latest client’s got him in a chokehold like god how is she so fuckin sexy nd he can’t focus at all bc fuck all he wants to do is fuck her senseless— HELP

Your wish is my command Angel! Thank you for being patient 😘

As always, enjoy 🩷

snap.

<Choi san x fem!reader>

Synopsis: encouraged by your friend, you give boudoir photography a try after recovering from a break up, you find yourself doing more than just be a model.

Genres/warnings: smut, boudoir photographer!San x model!reader, sexual tension, unprotected sex, cream pies, mention of oral

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies

“Boudoir photography?” You reiterate. Your friend nods.

“A friend of a friend of a friend tried it recently and apparently she’s been full of confidence. Her boyfriend adores it too!” Your friend squeals.

You scrunch your eyebrows, wondering how semi-nude photos taken by a professional photographer in this niche would boost one’s confidence.

Your friend’s eyes dart to you again, and then your phone pings. You look at the link your friend sent you. It’s a referral code for a promotion. You turn to her, gaze still dripping with skepticism.

“Come on, just try it. You’re a lovely person and you deserve to see it for yourself! Boudoir photography might really help at not being constantly self critical.”

You weren’t an entirely insecure person, and you were sure of that. It’s just that, after the rough break up with your ex, and seeing them move on instantly (like two fuckin weeks) with a new partner, undoubtedly was a gut punch to your self esteem, while you were still stuck grieving over the lost relationship and wasted time.

You’ve heard of boudoir photography, but you’ve never actually understood the concept of it, considering that it was niche, and that you don’t really know the point of it. You glance down at the referral link before deciding to just fuck it and sign up.

San is working overtime again, meticulously editing and touching up the photos. It’s become a natural part of him to almost be a perfectionist, whether when on the ground taking photos of the model or the post editing process. But he never loses the sight of letting the women shine naturally through their photos. After all, in such a niche market, they picked him. Definitely, he has his mix of male boudoir models, but the women evidently take up a higher ratio. He understands that one of the most important aspects of boudoir photography is trust and comfort with his models, which has them coming back for more sessions, sometimes even with their partners.

Setting up his own business in such a niche market was difficult of course, and he’s grateful that he’s managed to make a name for himself. But sometimes he’s grateful that his good looks are an added bonus to drawing in his clients.

His email pings and it makes him pause his work. Maybe he should finish it tomorrow. San glances at the fresh email that sits in his inbox.

An appointment via referral.

He opens it, and looks through the client’s information. At the bottom box for comments, sits a short question.

[Just wondering, what should I expect for my appointment? Is there anything I should prepare?]

He takes a moment before he drafts a reply.

[Hey there! Nice to meet you. I’m Choi San, boudoir photographer of Woodie’s Studios. First of all, thank you for choosing our studio for your boudoir experience!

Regarding your question, come in with an open mind. For what to wear, you may bring a set of clothes/lingerie of whatever you feel confident in.

I don’t bite, I promise!]

He reads the reply a second time before he hits send. It’s not as if it’s the first time he’s gotten questions like these anyway. His train of concentration is broken, so he decides to call it a night.

You reach the opaque door of a clean-looking studio apartment. The sign has San’s studio name and logo imprinted on it, so you’re sure that you are at the right location.

You press the door bell and it chimes a lovely tune. There is a quiet pause, before the door handle clicks and the door itself pulls back. Before you stood a really, no, an insanely good looking, tall male. His glasses rest loosely on the bridge of his nose as his small eyes meet yours. His brunette hair is slightly messy. He wears an expression of confusion at first, but it turns into something unreadable. You think for a spilt second that he may have gotten the wrong client, but your rationale reminds you that you did send him photos of yourself so he’s able to recognise you. You blink once, then twice because you were starting to get lost at how handsome your photographer was.

“Choi San..?” you say, with a small tilt of your head.

Then it’s his turn to blink, and he snaps out of that small trance he seemed to be caught in for a few seconds. Then a smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he greets you.

“Hey! Y/n right? Sorry, was tryna recognise you. I promise I don’t usually take that long to process”, he chuckles, pulling the door wider as he ushers you in, reminding you to switch out your shoes for the apartment slippers.

The hallway San brings you down is brightly lit and spilt into a couple of sections which you assumed one of them would be the photo studio itself. A couple of posters of pin up girls hang on the walls, all of them beautiful and stunning.

He then stops at a glass door and pushes it, to what you assumed to be his office.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get you a cup of tea. Any preferences?”, he gestures. You shake your head as you let yourself sink into the velvet couch, gingerly leaving your bag of clothing beside you. San gives a polite nod and excuses himself to the pantry.

And the moment the door shuts behind him, he tears his glasses off the bridge of his nose and hooks the branch onto his collar.

His hand is placed over his heart.

San has photographed many different women over the course of his career, some breathtakingly beautiful. But none has ever made his heart skip a beat and caused his words to be stuck at the back of his throat, not like you did. He doesn’t know what has gotten into him. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how you looked like—the pictures you sent served that purpose. Maybe it was the fact that he never expected you to look like that in real life, and for once, he almost doesn’t know how to react. His thoughts are all over the place as he paces into the pantry to prepare your tea. As he’s dipping the tea bag into the piping hot water, he begins feeling self conscious—was his hair too shrivelled? Did he smell bad? Was there something on his face? He tightens his grip on the mug and hastily makes his way back to his office.

San returns, with a smile on his face as he settles the cup onto the coffee table before you, and he joins you, seated on a velvet armchair across you.

“Take your time”, he reassures. “We can start after this, if you’re feeling comfortable, or we can just talk a little to ease your nerves.” It doesn’t take you much to think—you opt for the latter of course.

San laughs and nods. “I get that a lot, especially from first time female clients. It’s valid of course, having a male being your photographer for boudoir can sound off-putting. Perhaps looking at my portfolio might put you slightly at ease?” He reaches out for a large and thick leather-bound photo album. You let it rest on your lap as you receive it with a soft “thank you”, and flip the album open, and you’re instantly awestruck—San’s work spoke for himself. The models were diverse, both in nationalities and body shapes, all equally stunning and sensual in their own expressive ways. The only common denominator was the glint of genuine emotion and confidence reflected in their eyes.

You wonder to yourself—could you look and feel as confident as them? As you skim through the pictures, you feel yourself falling in love with the models as well—their genuine smiles when they do and the gazes they give.

When San catches himself staring at you being absorbed in admiring his portfolios, he feels his cheeks flush and he looks down, wondering what you think of it all.

“I see why you have so many clients. The pictures are gorgeous”, you say, shutting the photo album and handing it back to him. San flashes a sheepish smile and mutters a “thank you” loud enough for you to hear. The silence in the room remains a for awhile as you sip the tea, letting it calm your nerves. You don’t even know it but the person with actual jittery nerves was San himself, a feeling that he never expected to feel since the last time he did was when he started out this business three years ago.

“So… what’s the goal of being a boudoir model, if you don’t mind me asking? Like was it a long time thing you wanted to try or was it something spontaneous?” He asks to break the silence.

“I broke up with my ex recently”, you respond curtly, before taking another sip of the tea. Damn, this is some good ass tea. San blinks at your reply, unsure of what to make out of the bluntness. Before he attempts to reply, you continue, “and my friend sent me a referral to your studio, and I thought to myself, why not? I want to feel confident in my own skin. Also, I think it’s an interesting way of self exploration.” Your gaze meets his, and it’s his turn to look awestruck. You try to ignore the flutter in your chest when he laughs softly, when his smile reaches his eyes. It’s the way that he’s confident of his craft, and it’s making you warm up to him even more.

Your fingertips tap on the mug softly. Your gaze lands on the photobook once more.

“Does taking such risqué pictures affect you when you first started out?” You ask before taking another sip. San ponders about the question for awhile. He has people asking him that before, but for some reason, he wants to be slightly more transparent with you.

“I don’t see about my clients in a sexual way, even if they physically look appealing to me. In the end, self confidence and comfort always comes first, and I think that’s what I enjoy seeing in my clients when they become more comfortable in their own skin. People don’t understand how difficult it is to fully love yourself”, he replies.

That’s when you understand why San’s photography studio had so many recurring clients.

“Why boudoir? I think sensuality and intimacy is a form of art. It’s beautiful—watching people discover parts of themselves they never knew existed and falling in love. You don’t have to be conventionally attractive to be a boudoir model.

The money’s good, of course, but the satisfaction of watching my clients giving me feedback of them realising they deserve to love themselves more, or discovering other sides of themselves is nothing short of rewarding.”

By the time he’s done explaining, you feel a rush of confidence in yourself. It’s only been about ten minutes since the both of you just sat and talked, but you see that he definitely prioritises your comfort before he even begins the sessions. You ball your fingers into a fist, meeting San’s gaze with determination, telling him, “I think I’m ready.”

San’s eyes brighten up. “Great! You can use the bathroom to the left, and I’ll meet you at the photo studio just opposite the office.” He stands up, opening the door for you, and you bow slightly in courtesy as you head to the washroom to change. San’s heart beats faster, wondering what you’re gonna wear for the shoot.

San is fixing the sheets of the bed, then the studio lights at the perfect angle he wants it to be. His heart is still racing as he walks over to the tripod, glancing over at the door from time to time, awaiting for your arrival.

He perks up when he sees you walk in with a bathrobe on and he greets you cheerfully again, trying to hide his excitement.

You wave back with a smile, letting the environment of the photo studio sink in. The basic package for first timers consisted of a bed shoot, so it’s no surprise you see a bed in the middle of the room, covered in white. The bed looks comfy and you giggle to yourself, wondering if you’d end up falling asleep mid-shoot from how nice the bed looks.

“Anytime you’re ready”, San reminds you, carrying the tripod in one hand, his biceps flexing as he does, and it makes you blush slightly, which was ridiculous. Why are you swooning over your handsome photographer carrying the tripod with one arm? Suddenly you’re self conscious again, your fingers clutching against the black bathrobe. It was frustrating that you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was making you nervous, but you weren’t about to back out.

San continues to adjust his camera on the tripod, and his gaze absentmindedly shifts towards you, and his breath gets stuck in his throat, watching you undress from the bathrobe, revealing a white button up over black lace lingerie. It’s not anything new, but for some reason he can’t seem to tear his eyes off you—the way the panties hugs your hips and the bra cups your breasts, the garter belt hugging your waist and the straps hanging past your panties. He watches you climb onto the bed, eyes shutting briefly as you sink into the mattress with a soft smile.

He’s not confident that he’s able to last through the shoot, not when you’re looking like that.

“Is it too cold here?” San asks, trying to divert his attention from his perverse thoughts. You pop up from the sheets, the collars of the shirt slipping past your shoulders, obviously too big for you. That does nothing to help him with his thoughts.

“No, I think the temperature’s okay. Shall we get started?” You ask, buttoning up your shirt, the white material pathetically sheer that San is able to see the black bra peeking through.

The sight of you in an oversized shirt on, with no pants, just your underwear on is like a meal for San’s eyes. He hides behind the camera to hide his flushing cheeks, only to face your body through the viewfinder, watching you preparing to pose as you position yourself at the end of the bed, turning your body slightly to the side with one leg up, your thighs in full view, with the sleeves of the shirt covering most of your fingers, and your gaze right into the camera lens.

San takes a deep breath. Forty five minutes. He can do this.

“Sure. Ready whenever you are, y/n.”

It turns out to be a very agonising forty five minutes. While the both of you were cracking jokes during the shoot, San finds himself getting more distracted when you gradually remove your shirt, and when your poses grow ever more risqué—at one point you remove your bra and fit your shirt over again, which definitely made San grow very restless when he’s unable to tear his eyes away from your bare chest.

Midway through the shoot, all that swarms his mind is wondering how your body would feel against his, how your bare skin would feel under his hands, what kind of faces you would make when you’re under him.

What kind of noises you would make for him when he fits his cock right into you. He wants to fuck you so hard that your mind goes blank—so good that you’ll never remember your ex.

San blinks, his finger still on the shutter button. He doesn’t know what washed over him, but what he does know is the taut feeling in his pants, and he internally heaves a sigh of relief that he decided to wear cargo pants. Nonetheless, he hopes that it isn’t obvious. Well, it shouldn’t be, as long as you don’t ask for close up shots.

“San! Could you come closer for my close ups?” You call out, letting the collar of your shirt fall off your shoulder once more, revealing your bare shoulders, and reminding him that you were still braless underneath the loose clothing article.

Fuck.

San forces a smile, unlatching his camera and trying to walk normally without letting his erection steal your attention.

He reaches to where you are, reminding himself to stay professional, but when he meets your playful gaze, all he wants to do is pin you down. Your eyes twinkle with allure as you prepare your next pose. You get it now—the confidence that slowly trickles into you after every photo taken. You’ve never realised that you had this side of yourself, not until now, and you love it.

The close up shots only spell another layer of doom for San—he adores the budding confidence that you exude, but it makes it even harder for him to hold back, watching you make sultry expressions and poses close up. Through the viewfinder, his eyes try to focus on taking the photo but he finds himself being entranced by your stare. He counts down, then taking a few shots, not missing the growing smile you had.

San puts his camera away, reaching forward to your face to remove a stray hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear, and his touch is warm on your face. It’s then you realise how physically close San is to you—you smell his cologne and it leaves your mind blank for a spilt second. He’s absorbed in fixing your hair, combing the strays off your face, the sound of his quiet breathing the only thing you hear. You look away, wondering if your heartbeat is loud enough for him to hear, and you hope it isn’t. San gives you a soft smile when his eyes finally meet yours.

He pulls back, preparing to take his camera for the next shot, but his leg gets tangled in the sheets.

Everything happens in a spilt second—his knee that shifts forward at first, pressing against the sheet that has unknowingly tangled around his other leg, then San trying to get up quickly with the tangled leg, realising a little too late by the time he falls right onto the bed.

Right onto you.

He almost squishes you. Almost. But he lands above you, supported by his elbows just in time before his body is in contact with yours.

Your heart races, way too quick for you to even process what just occurred. All knew you was:

One; San is right above you,

Two; his lips are hovering over yours,

Three; you feel something pressing against your pelvis.

And San stares down at you, his heart beating in his ears. He takes in the sight of you below him—eyes looking up at him through fluttered lashes, your heat radiating against his skin, your lips slightly parted in surprise.

As well as the strain in his pants when his eyes instinctively lower to your bare chest, your nipples peeking through your shirt, and that his little problem is just resting right on you.

“I’m sorry”, San whispers, breaking the silence that had hung between the both of you. “This usually doesn’t happen…”

You crack an amused smile. “Usually?”you reiterate teasingly. A tint of red flushes San’s cheeks and his clothed erection presses harder against your bare skin, and it makes you bite your lip.

“Fuck. I mean, this never happens. It’s just.. I’ve never felt this way about my boudoir models…”, he trails off. “I think you’re fucking stunning since you entered the studio, and I think you’re even more stunning now.”

Your heart flutters at his confession and this time, you feel yourself blush. A soft laugh escapes from the male above you when he sees you avoid eye contact from the shyness. His strings of rationale—yelling at him to stay professional—is snapping. He’s not lying. He’s never felt so attracted to any of his models before, until you, and now that he has you trapped under him, he doesn’t want to lose that chance.

“Should we end the session here?” San asks, with a quick glance at your pretty red lips.

Your fingers are playing with the dangling silver chain that he wears. He lets you, waiting for your response before he catches your gaze dances back to meet his again. Your hands shift to caress San’s jaw, and he takes it as a sign to make his move. You inhale softly as you feel his lips press onto yours, and it makes your head spin with glee. He tastes so heavenly, and your legs clench at the feeling that flutters between your thighs.

San slightly presses his body weight onto you, his erection only growing harder against your thigh. But it looks like he’s taking his time.

His fingertips warm your skin, and he lets them slip up your body, until he’s at your chest, barely covered by the sheer cotton material. His thumbs grazes against your nipples, and you gasp in between open mouthed kisses. You feel him smile, and he applies pressure, and the sensation goes right to your pussy.

He pulls back, watching your lip stick smudged, and your eyes dilate. You can’t help but feel entranced by San, and now you’re wondering how his face would look like when he falls apart.

And it makes you excited.

San lulls you back from your thoughts when you feel his lips suck softly against your neck, and now your fingers are playing with his soft locks of hair.

He’s slightly embarrassed at the way he’s growing even harder when he gingerly peels the white shirt away. His hands cup your bare tits, and he lowers himself to your left tit, giving it a couple of hungry licks and sucks, leaving your back arching and your mouth agape from how ticklish his tongue feels as he flicks your nipple. He doesn’t neglect the other nipple, giving it the same attention as he relishes in the way you fall apart for him. When he has his fun of sucking and making sure your nipples swell while you moan and tug his hair, he pulls away.

He sits up, pulls his shirt over his head and you’re left drooling at how chiseled his body looks. San unbuttons his pants and yanks it off, alongside his boxers, and you watch with awe as his cock springs out—hard and heavy against his abdomen. Your panties are tugged off you in no time, and you don’t miss the way his cock twitches when his eyes land on your slick covered cunt.

“You’re gonna be the death of me”, you hear him mutter before he collides his lips against yours once more. You squeal when you feel his fingers press onto your clit, giving it small rubs, watching and soaking your reactions—your whines and whimpers. There is a dull buzz in your mind every time your bundle of nerves get stimulated, and it builds up in your tummy.

“Oh god, you’re getting even wetter”, he sighs, his fingers completely soaked.

“It feels good. So good. Keep doing that”, you whisper, your fingers pressing against his arm. Your moans only grow louder as San picks up the speed on rubbing your clit, and it’s sending you over the edge way quicker than you wanted to.

San lowers himself to your head, and his husky voice vibrates in your ears.

“That’s it, keep coming undone. Let your mind shut off. You look so fucking beautiful like that.”

“San, San, fuck. I’m gonna cum. Oh fuck-“

Your eyes roll back as your orgasm washes over you, your body tensing as pleasure becomes the only thing you know. You barely catch onto the dirty things San is telling you, but you know he’s encouraging you to cum on his fingers like a good girl.

He makes sure he has your orgasm drawn out as long as possible, your mind completely blown out at that point. San sucks off your arousal on his fingers, before giving his cock a few pumps.

“You taste like heaven, babe. I’ll get a taste of that cunt soon, but right now, I really can’t wait”, San huffs, trying to keep himself composed as he slowly fucks his hand.

“San, hurry up, please. I need you, so fucking bad”, you whine, your fingers pulling your wet folds open for him.

His breathing goes heavy at your words. “Damn, the shoot really got you heated,” San teases.

“I can’t help it if my photographer makes me wet”, you reply with a playful smile.

Something seems to snap in San when he hears that—all he’s thinking about is wanting to drive his cock so deep into you that your mind completely blanks out.

So that’s what he does.

San lines up his cock to your entrance and pushes and inch in. His eyes dart to your face, licking the bottom of his lip when he watches your face contort into pleasure. His hands stroke your thighs as he pushes in a couple more inches, soaking in your broken moans as he stretches you out. He forces himself to stay composed despite the fact that you’re squeezing him with your warm and soft walls.

He manages to bury himself right to the hilt and he gasps at how perfectly fitted his cock is in you, an uncontrollable moan escaping his lips when he feels you convulse around his cock.

“San, you’re so big. I’m so filled”, you whimper through glazed eyes, his cock completely cutting off other senses as your thighs tremble. A smile tugs at his lips.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, pretty”, San tells you. Despite that, he waits for your green signal before he pulls out and drives his cock right into you.

Your mind switches off the moment his cock is fucking your pussy, because that’s all that matters. It’s so good. So fucking good.

His hands slither to your wrists, and has them pinned over your head as his cock pistons into you. You swear he’s driving you to be cock dumb by the end of this, but not like you fucking minded anyway.

“Look at you. Growing stupid over my cock already. So fucking adorable.”

You only nod in reply, biting your lip as his cock continues to render you speechless. Now San has completely flooded into the smallest crooks of your mind. San has his mind blank, his eyes darting from your fucked out expression to your bouncing tits.

Your cunt flutters once again and tears are pooling at the corner of eyes. The sounds of wet skin slapping echo around the studio.

“…wanna touch you”, you mutter. Despite the face that you loved that he was holding you down, you are feeling desperate to feel his skin as you dance on the fence of your orgasm. San releases your wrists, and he props himself better as he continues to pound into you, hitting the soft, spongy spot over and over again when he has your legs folded. When his pulls out, his cock is covered in a creamy mess. His head spins and his ego inflates at the thought him being the one who drove you to this point of mind blanking pleasure.

“No, no, I’m gonna cum again. So good. San!” His name leaving your lips as a whine. Your hands are gripping onto the loose unbuttoned sleeves of your shirt. His hands take yours and places them on his on his sides, and he groans at the way you’re clawing him.

“Shit. Fuck!” San curses when you cream on his cock even more on top of your walls hugging him tightly. You let go on his cock with a pleasured sob, legs twitching.

It’s not long before a long drawn out moan San releases as his warm cum completely floods your tight hole. He swears he wants to keep his cock tucked in your pussy because it feels that fucking good.

His face—oh, his fucking face when he orgasms. You barely recover from your second orgasm to watch San fall apart while he empties in your pussy, and it almost drives you to your third orgasm. Almost.

The both of you remain still for a moment, only breathing filling in the silence. Then, San slowly pulls out, watching the way his cum leaks out of your abused hole.

San pulls back, and he realises that he’s never seen a more beautiful sight—you, splayed out in nude, only covered by a measly white shirt that inevitably drives him crazy, with cum leaking out of your pretty hole while your body twitches against the white sheets.

He thinks that it’s a pity that his camera is out of reach, because it’s such a beautiful shot.

You glance at San with a shy smile as he hands you your panties. He hooks the your legs into the panties and pulls it up to your hips. You feel another load stain your panties while your thighs twitch.

San dresses himself quickly and extends his arm for you to take as he leads you off the bed. He knows he’s got extra work to wash the sheets but that’s the least of his worries.

What throws you off is when he pulls you into his arms and kisses your temple.

“I promise I’ve never done to any of my clients”, he reiterates.

“Unprofessional”, you tease, your hands sneaking up his shirt.

“Can’t fucking help it. I never knew fucking an Angel in my studio would be this exhilarating. It makes the thought of washing the bedsheets bearable”, he teases back, letting his fingers tangle in your hair.

Your mind goes completely blank when he tells you to wash out the loads in you, so he’ll fill you up once more when he brings you home, which earns him a slap on the chest. He gestures you to go change up, watching the way you remove your shirt to reveal your bare back, and he makes a mental note to start fucking you from behind.

And back at his place, he does. His eyes are hyper focused on the way your ass bounces on his cock. A loud slap reverberates in his room followed by a whimper.

He stills in you, spilling his load once more into your abused cunt as you cream all over him once again.

Then he has you wrapped up in his arms, peppering you with kisses as you’re teetering off your high.

“Stay over, won’t you?”, San requests, tucking a lock of hair behind your ears. You’re beginning to feel completely enamoured by the male. You nod as you melt into his arms.

San thinks it’s ridiculous how hard and fast he fell for you, but he’s confident that you’re his favourite model, ever.

[slvthrs]

can you do a vinnie x fem reader smut where she (reader) is stressed out and vinnie fucks her good on the balcony and they didn’t care anymore if they get caught of what 🙈

ofc my lovesss

BREATHE BABY | v.hacker

— MINORS PLEASE FUCK OFF FOR UR OWN GOOD —

stress never stood a chance against a tall blond with an unyielding love for you.

BSF!VINNIE X FEM!READER

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI, fucking in a pool over the city, vinnie LOVES u, praise kink, hickies n love bites

word count: 2.5k <3

a/n: idfk if vinnie has a pool in his apt, i added one for the plot 😭

Stress was one of the most constant presences in your life. University, friendships, family relationships. It was as if stress was an obsessive ex that you couldn’t get rid of creeping back into your life once it got good. 

The only thing that could keep it a bay was Vinnie, your best friend of 12 years, ever since you were nine years old the boy was like a walking calmer for you. His presence made you relax and he always reminded you when you needed to take a break.

Ever since he moved out to LA at 18 the stress slowly crept back into your life, and you had to adapt again. More friends in uni and new found appreciation of swimming. 

If you weren't studying or with your friends, you were swimming. Sometimes the water made you calm down, it felt as if all your stress floated away as the water touched your skin.

That’s where you were again, the pool attached to Vinnie's apartment. 

It was so odd, the lanky scruffy boy who you became friends with grew into the type of men you would see modeling- and you did.

Everything was so much more intimidating about the boy. His height, the tattoos littering his skin which make your skin turn hot. 

His new found fame which made your head dizzy the longer you thought about it. The idea of the boy you first became friends with turning into this man who had girls falling over him left in right made your stomach flip and you had no idea if it was good or bad. 

You had kept an eye on what he was up to in LA, his friends, his business, that one fight that made you nearly throw up out of fear. 

And of course who he was dating.

It always said he wasn’t seeing anyone but you were never convinced, no one looks like that and is single, you always thought to yourself.

But it wasn’t just him who had changed. 

Looking back, being stuck to one boy's side for all of elementary, middle, and high school was a hindrance.

Once you branched out in university you flourished.

You grew into a new woman.

Your features were sharper, your curves more defined, your entire face had what your friends called, ‘a glow up’. 

Regular visits to the gym and taking care of yourself made you stand out.

Also being more active in your sex and love life made you more in touch with your body. Your last ex boyfriend taught you so much about what you did and didn’t like, you got better and sex and the burst of confidence helped you in tremendous ways.

You walked with more purpose in your steps and it really did seem like you left Seattle and turned into a different woman.

But this new Vinnie made you feel like a little girl again. Floundering in the big kids pool, kicking your tiny legs for a chance to come up and breathe again.

All of your confidence was for show as when Vinnie walked in you returned into that stressful anxious girl again.

You relaxed lackadaisical at the edge of the pool looking over the edge. 

Everything looked so small, everyone down there had their own lives, your worries seemed miniscule compared to what everyone else down there had to go through. 

An ambulance rushed by and the only thought you had was someone was about to get the most devastating news of your life.

It was like a trance the city of LA put you into.

The city of angels. 

“You look deep in thought.” The velvety voice of the boy who the house belonged to piped in.

You turned and saw Vinnie resting against the sliding door of the balcony. His hands were in the pockets of his swim trunks whilst he had an unbuttoned linen shirt barely converting his ink filled torso. 

“I’m always deep in thought Vinne, you know that.” A small huff left your plump lips as you turned and said that.

“I know but especially today.” He explained whilst walking over to dip his feet in the pool, “Is LA freaking you out? I felt like that for the first year I was here.”

He always did that. Trying to figure out what made you uncomfortable and trying to fix that. He was always kind like that.

“No Vin, it’s everything. It’s so weird. You left Seattle as a scared boy and now you seem like someone I’d see plastered on magazines talking about how many girls he sleeps with in a year.” The crude stereotype aside, Vinnie laughed at your remark.

“I’m still the same guy, you know that.” He said and continued a second later, “Besides, look at you. You're like a different person.”

It was your turn to laugh now, “You can come in you know that? It’s like you're trying to stay away from me.”

He smiled, “Thanks for the invite into my own pool.”

Despite the sarcasm he took his shirt off and entered the pool, walking over to where you were floating. 

He towered over you.

“I don’t think I’ve changed that much.” You toyed with your bikini strap, “I’m still the same anxious girl you met.”

His hands rested on your waist, “Sure, but you're more confident, you're more talkative, plus you look so different.” 

It’s quiet until Vinnie breaks the silence again.

“I kept checking on your Instagram now and again. You seem happier.” You both know what he means when he says that.

“I am. Moving out of Seattle was hard but in the grand scheme of things I couldn’t stay there after you left, it felt empty.” You tell him as he pushes a strand of hair away from your face.

“M’ sorry, I had to leave but my biggest regret is that you couldn’t have come with me.” 

You laugh pulling away from him and turing back around, facing the city again, leaning over the edge of the pool.

“Even if you have asked I wouldn’t have come. I love you Vin, but I was always was gonna go to university. You were the unconventional one out of the 2 of us.” You sigh pulling you hair to one side and playing with the ends, a sort of nervous tick you developed after your first months in university.

“I know.” He breathes out, “That’s why I didn’t ask but a part of me always hoped you would come.” 

He comes closer to you, his hands wrap around your waist and now your back is hitting his chest. His head practically rests on top of yours.

You nearly start crying. 

You don’t know why. 

“You think anyone down there is going through the same thing were going through?” It’s a dumb question on your part but you like talking to the blond.

“Are any of them dealing with 2 friends you love each other and have been apart for so long that they don’t know what to do,” He pauses, “Also one of them if famous and the other is the most amazing person on earth? Nah I don’t think so.”

“Mhm that makes sense.”

It goes quiet again.

The wind rustles against the palm trees and if you really focused your ears you could hear the waves crashing along the shore.

“You keep tabs on my insta?” You ask with a smile creeping up on your face

He smiles him self letting a huff of laughter out, “Yeah, I was hoping you forgot I said that.”

“Why, whatd’ya see on there?” Another dumb question, you know exactly what he saw on there.

“You look happier, also you have new friends, ones I would like to meet,” His heart skips a beat, “Also y’know that guys on there.”

You laugh internally and turn around so you can see his face.

“Their some of my friends, I think you would like them.” You know he wouldn’t.

“What about Tyler?” 

Your ex-boyfriend, the one you meet during finals week of your sophomore year. You had dated for nearly 9 months before you broke it off. 

It wasn’t anything serious, he didn’t cheat, he didn’t lie- your lives were too different and you both knew that.

It was a mutual decision but Vinnie didn’t care. Anyone the broke up with you or even hurt you in anyways was evil in his eyes, how anyone could do that to you, he couldn’t explain to himself. 

“Tyler’s Tyler it doesn’t matter.” 

He blinks at you.

“What you want me to bring up all the girls your rumored to be dating?”

“Fuck off you know that isn’t the same thing. Half of those girls I only follow on tiktok and I haven’t been in a single committed relationship with any of them… Why the fuck did I find out about your long term relationship over fucking INSTAGRAM, I’m your best friend what hell?”

He steps back, with his hands in the air like he’s being accused of something.

“I don’t know Vin I just didn’t know how to tell you, everything was too much. I was so worried what you were gonna think and then it got to late. I felt like there was no point in telling you-” 

You ramble and he cuts you off.

“It’s fine, breathe pretty girl, just relax, I’m right here.” 

He pulls you closer to him and the moment you look into his eyes that calming effect he has on you just corses through your body.

Something just clicks inside the both of you and he’s kissing you so gently it’s like hes afraid of breaking you. 

His lips slot perfectly into your’s, it’s like you were made for him, his hands fall onto your ass as he pulls you closer, his eyebrows are knitted together in focus and he’s holding you as if he’s afraid to lose you.

It feels so fucking right. 

You the one that pulls him harder into you, your hands tangle into his hair, deepening the kiss.

Your nails rake the back of his neck and he hums in content. 

Your the one that pulls back, a trail of saliva linking the 2 of you and he looks at you so intently as if he’s studying you.

“Your so beautiful. I don’t think I tell you that enough.” And his lips are back on yours.

Your the one who pulls the strings of your bikini of and his lifting you up so your flush against his body, most likely so he can feel your tits pressed up against his chest. 

He’s grining in the kiss, as his hands grope your thighs and ass trailing up towards your hips. His hands are all over you and your ecstatic they are.

“More” you whisper into the kiss like it’s a secret only the two of you can share or else yoru lives would ruin.

“Please Vinnie I’m begging you.” You know your not telling him what you wnat but you pray he’ll save some of the embarrassment for you.

“Tell me what you want, I’ll do anything for you.” It’s like a prayer or promise of worship.

“Fuck me please, do whatever you want, I just need you.” It’s desperate and it turns Vinnie on so much more.

His fingers link around the straps of your bottoms and he pulls the down, your fully nude under him as he fiddles with his own shorts.

Your legs link around him as he slowly slides his dick in letting you get used to the size if anything. 

You head falls onto his shoulders as you sigh out, your eyebrows knit and you nearly loose your shit. 

He feels so much bigger than anyone else you’ve ever had sex with and your entire body feels like its getting shocked.

The sensation to crynearly hits you before you pull your self together, latching you lips onto Vinnie’s neck as he starts to move you.

It’sa rhythmic pace and it’s a kind one faring his size but you want more. You’ve waited years for this and you want more than him just being kind. 

“Vinnieee,” It comes out as a needy whine as you cry out his name, “More, harder, anything just please needa feel you everywhere.” 

You ramble but he knows what you want. He knows your body, he knows you better than you know yourself. 

His pace speeds up and he tries to keep kissing your but you keep writhing. He finds it adorable but your trying not to cum as quick to draw this out. 

You wanna feel him everywhere, you wanna be able to only see him.

“Vin,” You words are loosing power as he keeps thrusting into you, your thighs are sore and your mind is clouded with the thought of yoru impending orgasm. 

“Choke me please, need to feel you.” His pace falters as he tries to grapple with what you just admitted to him.

The look on your face proves your not joking but he swears he nearly came just by the sentence alone. 

His dick twitches inside you as his hands wrap around the base of your neck, he pulls yoru face up and you look into his eyes. 

You look drunk and delrious and he wants you to have his kids right there on the spot. 

He can’t even tell you what it is, he’s just so much more in love with you.

As his hands add pressure your hands comes to weakly wrap around his, not realy doing anything, just an unorthodox way of holding hands.

Your sense are flooded with just, Vinnie. 

The same boy practically trained to teach you how to breathe when your mind rabbles, cutting your breathe off, and the way he looks while doing it.

His pupils are blown out and his face looks like a mix of lust and love. The whole scene out of a porno but even his eyes can’t hide how deeply he’s in love with you.

When he lets your neck go you inhale so deeply you nearly start coughing and he pulls you closer to him as his thrusts become sporadic. 

Your forehead rests against his as you both cum, nearly blacking out as your vision goes white.

Your panting as he puts you down on the edge of the pool as he finds you a towl and the rest of your clothes floating around in the pool. 

You end up in the bath making sure the get the chlorine off and the residues of sex off the both of you.

Your lying ontop of his as his hands rake through your hair.

“Just breathe baby we’ll take about it tomorrow.” And thats what you do, breathing to the sund of his heartbeats. 

[thereweredragonshere]

No because if I was Viggo I’d ALSO be fucking pissed off?? Like you’re this mastermind dragon hunter that is running possibly the largest operation in the entire of the archipelago that is family owned and ran with your older brother with hundreds upon hundreds upon hundreds of henchmen to do your dirty work and whenever people even MENTION your name they get scared and you’re this big strong powerful dude in his like mid forties but then a group of mother fucking barely adult stupid ass kids show up and successfully threaten your entire business model? Everything was fine yesterday but then this gaggle of incompetent fools show up with their stupid reptiles and suddenly you’re in a war??? AND the fucking malnourished stick insect of a leader they have has the AUDACITY to steal an ancient relic off of one of your predecessors ships??? AND THEN THEY BLOW UP YOUR ONLY MODE OF LONG FORM TRANSPORTATION??? AND THEN THEY RELEASE A BUNCH OF YOUR STOCK AND SINK THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS OF YOUR PROFITS BY SAVING THE DRAGONS YOU CAPTURED??? WHAT??? MOTHER FUCKER HAD EVERY SINGLE RIGHT TO START A WAR. HICCUP AND HIS STUPID ASS FRIENDS SHOWING UP AND JUST TANKING YOUR WHOLE ASS LIFE??? IMAGINE BEING A FUCKING KING PIN CRIMINAL EXPERT IN DRAGON TRADING AND YOU LOSE AN ENTIRE WAR TO A GLORIFIED WALKING EMBODIMENT OF AWKWARDNESS AND HIS 5 WEIRD LITTLE CREATURES HE TAKES AROUND WITH HIM. IMAGINE HAVING TO SIT THERE IN YOUR COOL ASS DRAGON HUNTER EVIL LAIRE AND PLAN HOW YOU WERE GONNA FIGHT OFF THE LITTLE RUNT OF BERK HEIR GUY THAT WON’T GIVE UP. IMAGINE?? FUCKING IMAGINE????

WHO WOULD NOT BE PISSED??? THAT MAN HAD A VERY EXTREMELY RATIONAL REACTION BECAUSE THAT WAS LITERALLY THE FOUNDATION OF HIS LIFE??? HIS ENTIRE CAREER GOT NOT JUST ENDED BUT FORCEFULLY FUCKING SLAMMED INTO A WALL OF CONCRETE AND CURB STOMPED BY A FUCKING STEAM ROLLER RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM. I mean sure yeah he put up the biggest fight of the century and did his whole ‘I’m gonna mess with your head until you go insane and just fuck off and leave me alone you stupid little annoying boy get a life,’ thing BUT STILL HICCUP WON THAT WAR AND THE AGE OF 18. EIGHT GOD DAMN TEEN.

[brokenmenswhore]

Omg sooooo true about all the Jace fics being so soft!! But did you see that man this season! The sass, the angriness, the hatred for his enemies. He finally had a voice and it was so fucking hot!! Please give me more rough sex with Jace!! Bonus points for choking pretty please!!

don’t gotta ask me twice, this isn’t super long but i think you’ll still enjoy it ;) i also have another ask that just says more mean rough jace so here ya go

if you don’t leave soon | jacaerys velaryon

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

warnings: choking, smut (MDNI 18+), wax play

────── ☾ ──────

Jacaerys was always handsome to you, but lately, he was hot. Like really, really, hot.

When you were present at council meetings, you noticed that Jacaerys would actually speak up and make his voice heard. He was becoming more vocal toward his mother as well, and was truly asserting himself as heir to the throne. Ever since his business in Winterfell, he wore his hair down, his natural dark curls framing his exquisite bone structure perfectly.

He was always frustrated as of late, and the veins on the hand that rested on the hilt of his sword would tense and flex as he gripped it tighter and tighter. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

You couldn’t get him out of your head.

Even just being in the same room as him turned you on, your legs clenching together in your seat as your body instinctively turned toward him.

He was consuming your every thought, every move, and every dream. It became unbearable. Your desire for Jacaerys was controlling your entire life.

You needed air. You needed to spend the hours in the dead of night distracted, rather than in your chambers with your hand between your legs and Jacaerys on your mind.

You tied your robe closed around your nightdress, taking a deep breath as you snuck out of your chambers and headed toward the outdoor overlook, in desperate need of the nighttime air on your face to calm your desires down.

You slowly creaked open the door to the council room, intent on just passing through to arrive at your destination, when you saw Jacaerys seated at the council table.

He was slouched in his chair, an elbow resting on the table as leverage for him to rest his head in his palm. He was inspecting the table, deep in thought. So deep, in fact, that he didn’t even hear you come in.

You were a mere few feet behind him when you broke the silence. “Jace?”

Jace’s body jolted slightly when you spoke, violently snapping him out of his trance. “Hey.”

“Are you alright? It’s rather late,” you asked.

“Just thinking,” he answered, his eyes still transfixed to the table in front of him.

“I do not wish to disturb you,” you said, unsure of what else to say, but you didn’t make an effort to leave.

Jacaerys lifted his head and finally turned toward you. “You are not disturbing me.”

You gave him a small smile in response. The air was thick between you two, the silence awkward and deafening. The flames from the candles on the table flickered, illuminating his features as they danced. He looked so pretty. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t speak, and most importantly, you couldn’t look away.

You had to say something. You couldn’t just awkwardly stand somewhat behind him and stare at him forever, but you desperately didn’t want to leave. “Want some company?”

Jacaerys smiled at you. “Sure.”

You sat down in the chair closest to him. He was at the head of the table, and you were seated beside him, slightly around the bend. You were turned toward him, allowing you to watch him even more.

You sat in silence for several minutes. You were in awe of his beauty, his appearance in the late hour driving your hormones wild.

Jacaerys finally spoke first. “I secured a partnership in the Riverlands today.”

It was not at all what you expected him to say, but you were happy that he was finally speaking to you. “On your own?”

“Mhm,” he responded, toying with one of the model towers on the table, “I didn’t alert my mother I was leaving. I just went and did it.”

“She must have been very pleased with your initiative,” you told him.

“And yet she still refuses to utilize my talents,” he sighed, knocking over the piece he was toying with, his voice slightly raising at the end of his sentence as his frustrations made themselves known.

You looked to the piece rolling around the table, and then to him. “I’m sure she only wants to keep you safe.”

Jacaerys threw his head back, leaning on the chair and letting out a frustrated sigh. “She needs me if she wants to win this war.”

“I agree,” you said, the words coming out before you could think them through.

Jacaerys tilted his head down just enough to see you. “You do?”

You adjusted your robe in your lap. “Of course.”

Jace stayed looking at you for what felt like forever. “What are you doing up at this hour?” he asked you.

“I could not sleep,” you admitted, and it was the truth.

“Neither could I,” he reciprocated, “I have not been sleeping much as of late.”

“If you need to speak of what troubles you, I believe myself to be a rather good listener.”

You exchanged yet another look in a moment of silence before Jacaerys sighed, asking, “Do you think me capable of ruling?”

The question caught you off guard. “What?”

“As it is now, do you think I could rule?”

You swallowed nervously. You didn’t understand why he was asking you, and you were worried that you would give him the wrong answer. You figured the truth was always best. “I think we are much too young to assume such positions, but if you continue to grow the way you have as of late, I think you will make a wonderful ruler.”

Jacaerys leaned forward and placed a hand on your knee. You flinched in surprise, and your breathing caught in the back of your throat.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Of course, Jacaerys. You know I’ll always stand behind you.”

Jacaerys looked at you through hooded eyes. The moonlight was streaking into the room, and the only sound was the flickering of the candle wicks.

You did not expect him to speak, and if he did, you expected it to be about more insecurities regarding his position as the queen’s son. What he said was the very last thing you expected, but along the lines of the very first thing you often dreamed of.

“I’m quite pleased to have you in front of me.”

You blinked, expecting yourself to snap out of this dream and see where you truly were soon, but nothing changed. He was in front of you, and this was reality. You shuddered as Jacaerys began to rub your leg with his thumb.

“I-“

Words completely escaped you.

“May I be candid with you?” he asked, his voice gentle.

“Of course,” you said, your voice shaky.

“If you don’t leave soon, I won’t be able to stop myself from fucking you.”

You inhaled a sharp gasp. You didn’t intend to make noise, but you couldn’t help yourself. Your cheeks flushed as you stared into his eyes, searching for any sense that this was a joke or a test, but to no avail.

“W-what?”

“You have to leave, or I’m going to fuck you.”

“Jace-“ your voice trailed off.

“Get up.”

You stood immediately, your chair shifting slightly backward from the urgency of the move, your body responding to his demands as if it was second nature. He followed suit, stepping toward you so that your bodies were touching as he gazed down at you, his body looming over you.

He pushed your hair behind your shoulder, his fingers grazing against the nape of your neck as they moved to the back of your head. He gripped your hair and yanked your head backward.

“I don’t think I can control myself anymore,” he nearly whispered, dipping his head into the crook of your neck.

He fought with all of his self-control not to touch you, nervous he would overstep if you didn’t consent. He simply inhaled your scent, watching you swallow in anticipation and nervousness.

“Tell me to stop,” he said.

Your lips parted, but no words came out.

“Tell me to stop, Y/N,” he repeated.

You took a deep breath, Jacaerys placing a soft kiss on the side of your neck.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

Jace lifted his head to meet your gaze. “I don’t have the self control to be nice to you right now. I’m too frustrated.”

Your confidence grew as he spoke. The assurance that he wanted you too made you realize that this was now or never, and you were way too horny to get in your own way.

“So don’t be nice to me.”

Jacaerys yanked your hair backward even more, exposing more of your neck to him. He took a deep breath, connecting his lips to your neck again. He sucked the spot he landed on, his unoccupied hand pulling your waist against his hips.

He then bit down on the skin of your neck, pulling lightly with his teeth. You whined at the feeling, and you could suddenly feel his clothed cock throb against your thigh.

Jace’s hands traveled down your body until they reached the back of your thighs. He pushed and prompted you to jump, your legs wrapping around his waist. You instinctively placed your arms around his neck for balance.

He spun you around, dropping you gently onto the table.

“Kiss me,” he instructed.

Your fingers tangled in the hair on the back of his neck as you looked at him. This was all you’d been waiting for.

You pulled him closer to you, connecting your lips in a desperate kiss. His lips moved in sync with yours, his hands grabbing at your waist. He pulled you closer to the edge of the table, so that his hips could rub against yours. He grinded against you as the kiss heated up, your mutual eagerness coming to light.

You tested the waters, catching his bottom lip between your teeth and tugging slightly, disconnecting the kiss as you watched his face to garner his reaction.

He growled and pressed his lips to yours again, kissing you even harder as he vigorously untied your robe, bunching up the bottom of your nightdress and pushing it up your thighs.

His lips trailed down your jawline to your neck, sucking the slightly bruised spot from before as he pulled your small clothes down your legs enough to allow him access to your core. He immediately began to rub you, running a finger between your folds and circling around your bud.

You threw your head back, which only made Jacaerys suck harder on your neck.

He pulled away, leaning over you and using an arm to swipe away everything on the table directly behind you.

“Lay down,” he demanded.

You shifted your body until you were laying on the council table, your legs dangling off the edge as your current location dawned on you.

“Jace, what if someone walks in?” you asked, trying much too hard to sound coherent.

“Stay quiet and they won’t,” he replied, nearly a threat, untying his breeches and grabbing the seam of his small clothes, pulling both down to free himself.

“But-“

“Sh,” he said, kneeling down on the floor in front of you.

You were staring at the ceiling, completely at Jace’s mercy, and you loved it. You couldn’t see what he was doing, you could only feel him prop your legs up onto his shoulders.

Without warning, he licked from your hole to your bud, collecting the wetness as he pressed his mouth onto you, licking and sucking at your cunt. Your back arched off of the table, a low whine leaving your lips.

You peered down at him, and he was already looking up at you. One of his arms was shaking slightly, disappearing underneath the table, while his other arm held onto your hips. He was touching himself.

Even though it was happening right in front you, just the thought of Jace touching himself as he watched you react to him tasting you was too much for you. He looked so fucking pretty between your legs, his nose buried in your cunt, and his hair soft against your inner thighs.

Your hand moved down to hold onto the back of his head, lightly pulling at his hair to keep his tongue in a steady rhythm. It made Jacaerys moan into your core, and the feeling sent a shiver up your spine, causing your hole to convulse around nothing.

You continued to release soft, high-pitched moans as his tongue moved faster and faster. Your back arched again, and Jacaerys pressed his forearm into your lower stomach, forcing you to stay still against the table, but the stimulation was too overwhelming.

“Jace, I can’t-“ you tried to bargain, but it only made him stop. He stood up and towered over you.

“Can’t what, hm?” he taunted you.

He had you wrapped around his finger. You swallowed in anticipation, and Jacaerys watched the way your throat tensed from the nervousness.

He couldn’t help himself. He brought a hand up to your throat, running his pointer finger along the center before grabbing it, holding slight pressure on either side.

He gazed down at you in amusement, his cock throbbing against his stomach at the sight of you, laying down ready for him, with his hand around your throat.

Jace leaned down as far as he could toward your ear. “You gonna be good?” he whispered.

You nodded your head up and down, but that’s not what he wanted.

He squeezed your throat even tighter, your breathing now slightly obstructed. “It would be rude not to answer your future king when he asks you a question.”

You nearly gasped, “I’ll be good,” the words strained and nearly a whisper from the pressure on your throat.

Jacaerys stayed close to you, holding your neck down against the table as he lined himself up with your entrance, watching your face contort as he slowly pushed into you. Your head tried to turn away from his gaze, but you couldn’t move.

Watching you struggle, unable to do much due to his hand around your throat, amused Jacaerys. He peppered kisses along your jawline as he began to move in and out, not giving you much time to adjust to his size.

You whimpered nonstop as he fucked you, only keeping a tame pace for a few thrusts before he began to ruthlessly snap his hips. You cried out when he picked up the pace.

“I warned you I wouldn’t be nice,” he said.

You tried to respond, but the pressure against your vocal chords had you coughing instead. Your walls squeezed Jace’s cock, any reminder of his hand around your throat instantly heightening your arousal.

“Aweh,” Jace cooed, “you like it when I choke you, hm?”

“Y-yes,” you struggled out, using all your power to speak the word.

Jacaerys growled, standing tall, but never removing his hand from your throat. His unoccupied hand gripped your waist, keeping you close to him as he slammed into you.

He let his pent up anger take over his actions, watching you writhe and grab at nothing as he fucked you and, subsequently, knocking anything and everything off the table.

You knocked over one of the candles closest to you, and the wax ran for a moment, the hot liquid hitting your upper arm. You gasped at the sudden sting of pain, and Jacaerys noticed it wasn’t just a normal moan.

He scanned your body and caught the wax hitting you.

“Did that hurt?” he asked.

You wrapped your hand around his wrist, hoping he would let up on your throat and allow you to speak easier, but he wasn’t budging. “Only a little.”

Jacaerys removed his hand from your throat and watched as you gasped for air, coughing for a moment before you finally caught your breath.

He lifted one of the still-lit candles over your breasts, slowly tilting it further and further to the side until wax dripped directly onto the flesh of your breasts. You hissed at the pain, but it cooled the moment a drop hit your skin. He moved the candle back and forth, covering your cleavage in the wax.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, placing the candle back down and wiping away the cooled wax with his finger. There were red marks all along your upper breasts from the heat.

“Christ, Y/N,” he moaned. His cock was still inside of you.

You became self conscious, thinking you did something wrong. “I’m sorry,” you said, hoping he would apply it to whatever you did wrong.

“For what?”

“I don’t know.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he assured you, running his hand over your breasts, tracing your collarbone, and gripping your throat again, “except for plaguing every single dream I’ve had for weeks.”

He was dreaming of you?

He started to move again, immediately resuming his brutal pace. His hips knocked against yours with every thrust, and the tip of his cock hit the sweet spot inside of you.

“Jace- I-“

He could feel you beginning to squeeze him, your breathing quickening and your moans falling freely.

“Come for me, Y/N. You’re mine.”

You’re mine. That was all it took.

Your body jolted with release, cries of his name attempting to escape your throat but getting caught by the pressure from Jacaerys’s hand, which was now pressing even harder as you came, enhancing the pleasure of your climax.

“Fuck,” he cursed, feeling you squeeze him and further lubricate his cock, “you feel so fucking good.”

You were overstimulated, your body attempting to come down from one high while simultaneously chasing another as Jace continued to piston his cock in and out of you.

As dominant as he was being, you felt like you should do something to help him come, so you swallowed your pride and embarrassment and whispered in his ear, “Come in me, Jace, I wanna feel it inside of me.”

Jacaerys dropped his head into the crook of your neck, his eyes blown out with lust. He groaned at your words.

“Please, Your Grace.”

No one had ever called Jacaerys such a high-ranking title before. It was destined to be his, as he was the heir to the true queen, but it had never been spoken out loud. It added to his dominance, reminding him that he was in control over you.

He came on the spot.

His hips snapped harshly against yours a final few times as he spilled his seed deep within you. Your legs were shaking as he pressed his forehead to yours, catching his breath as he pulled out of you.

He stayed bent over for a while, enjoying being close to you.

“You alright?” he checked, disconnecting his hand from your neck.

“Mhm,” you hummed in response.

“You can breathe alright?” he continued.

“I can breathe just fine,” you assured him.

Jacaerys sighed and smiled at you. “Then I guess I didn’t do a good enough job.”

You blushed at his words, which only made his smile widen further. You covered your face with your hands, but Jacaerys grabbed your wrists, moving them away and kissing your knuckles.

He stood and clothed himself, holding out a hand for you to take as you jumped off of the table. You nearly collapsed, but Jacaerys wrapped an arm around your waist.

“What are you doing to me?” he asked genuinely.

“I could ask you the same question,” you replied, leaning upward to place a kiss on his cheek.

[steddieas-shegoes]

don't want to move on

for @steddiesmuttyseptember prompt 'make-up sex'

rated e | 18+, minors dni | 3165 words | read all tags on ao3

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

If Steve knows one thing, it’s that Eddie knows how to get under his skin and in his bed.

Ever since their breakup, a disaster of epic proportions for the entire friend group, Steve’s kept his distance from every possible interaction with Eddie. He’s made sure to find reasons to miss group outings and put himself on the schedule at work on the nights when he knew Eddie would be at movie nights or dinner. He purposely scheduled pool parties for days and times he knew Eddie would be busy.

But he couldn’t get out of this one.

And now he has Eddie’s eyes on him from across the room, staring into his soul, reading his mind probably.

It makes him want to hide. Or take his pants off.

He hasn’t quite decided yet.

“Are you gonna glare at him all night or go talk to him?” Jonathan asks from behind him.

Steve turns, feels ridiculous that he’s been caught, and crosses his arms across his chest defiantly.

“I’m gonna ignore him until he leaves and then excuse myself so I can sulk in peace,” Steve admits.

Robin was his platonic soulmate, but Jonathan has become a sort of unexpected best friend. He was there the morning after the breakup, barely holding Steve together with spoonfuls of peanut butter and reassuring words that didn’t stick quite as hard as the peanut butter. They got even closer after that, and hardly a day passed where Jonathan wasn’t texting Steve or showing up at his apartment with take out and stories from whatever modeling shoot he was working on.

“And you think he’s gonna let that happen?”

“If he knows what’s good for him.”

Jonathan snorts. “Okay. On that note, I’m gonna go check on Nancy. She got into the weed earlier and she’s probably at the stage where the walls are squiggly and she can feel her lungs touching her ribs.”

Steve’s eyes widen and he nods. He knows what she’s like at that point. Jonathan needs to get her home before everyone knows what she’s like at that point.

The moment Jonathan is gone, Eddie is walking towards him.

Steve’s never felt more like prey in his life, never seen Eddie strut like this. He’s frozen. He forgets how to breathe.

“Didn’t know you’d be here,” are the first words Eddie says to him in six months.

No hello. No awkward exchange of pleasantries.

Just a mild accusation and a piercing look.

“I wouldn’t be if I’d known you’d be here,” he retorts, deciding to match his energy. If Eddie is allowed to be at this party of a mutual friend’s mutual friend, then Steve is too. “Didn’t even know Ivy had your number.”

Ivy was one of Nancy’s friends from school, and Steve had been invited to quite a few of her parties over the last few years. When they were together, Steve always brought Eddie, but he didn’t know if Ivy and Eddie had ever even met.

“I know Ivy pretty well, actually,” Eddie says in a way that makes Steve pause.

What the fuck does that mean?

“So you’re…friends?” Steve asks even though he thinks he knows where this is going and he thinks he’s gonna be sick if he’s right.

“Yeah.” Eddie smirks. “Friends.”

“Oh.”

Steve has to abort whatever mission he thought he was on. This is gonna end with him crying in front of Eddie and everyone else at this stupid party that he came to because he’d had a rough week and just wanted to have a drink with friends and-

“Are you gonna be sick?” Eddie asks, reaching out to him as if that would even help.

“No!” Steve backs away. “I just need to head out. Got an early morning.”

“On a Sunday? You don’t work Sundays.”

“And how would you know?”

Steve needs to leave. He can’t engage in anything else with Eddie. He won’t recover.

“Because you wouldn’t have come at all if you had work in the morning. And everyone you would hang out with is here.” Eddie steps closer to him. “Unless something’s changed?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m not sure I owe you an explanation of my schedule.”

Eddie seems to realize that Steve’s right, taking a step back.

“Right. That’s true. I guess.”

And suddenly Steve can see how uncomfortable Eddie is, how much courage and energy it took him just to walk up to Steve at all. He’s always been pretty easy to read, at least for Steve, but right now it’s like he’s made of glass.

“How you been?” Steve asks, ignoring the pull he feels to the door for the pull he feels to Eddie.

“Um, good. Yeah, great. Fantastic. You?”

Steve raises a brow at the response. Eddie’s never been fantastic a day in his life.

Except maybe that one time he ate Steve out on a patio chair by the pool and then fucked him in his parent’s hot tub and claimed that he’d never been happier in his entire life.

“I’ve been fine.”

Not a lie. He has been fine most of the time. Fine isn’t anything special, or anything good.

“You look…good.” Eddie settles on, as if he was going to say something else entirely. “Still going to the gym?”

“Not as often as I should,” Steve admits. He’s about to call this quits when he sees Jonathan giving him a thumbs up from the doorway. “Uh. I should actually probably head out though.”

“Right. Yeah. Sure. Want me to let Ivy know you had to go?”

Steve shouldn’t fucking push. He knows he’s gonna end up hurt worse if he gets any form of confirmation on what he thinks is going on.

“I’ll just text her. But I guess if you see her before you go…”

“I mean, yeah, I’m kinda…living here right now?” Eddie rubs his hand along the back of his neck.

Steve thinks he might pass out.

He’s living with a woman not even six full months after he broke up with Steve because Steve wanted to take the next step and move in together?

He feels like he’s going crazy.

“With Ivy?” Steve can barely hear his own voice, doesn’t even know if Eddie hears him until he responds.

“I couldn’t renew my lease so she offered to let me stay here for a few months while I looked for something else,” he explains, as if that clears anything up. As if that helps the jealous fire in Steve’s heart calm. “That’s the only reason I’m even here tonight. I was off and she needed an extra pair of eyes to make sure no one tried to drive home after drinking.”

“Well, I haven’t even been drinking.”

“I know.”

“How do you know?”

“You think I’ve looked anywhere other than you since you walked in the door?”

Steve feels like his entire body is lifting above the floor, and he’s reminded that Eddie’s good at this. Flirting like he means it, using words but not wanting more than that.

That he may have feelings for Steve, but god forbid those feelings lead anywhere other than a bed or a date.

“Doesn’t seem appropriate to stare at me all night with your girlfriend in the next room.”

“Girlfriend? What? I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Eddie seems genuinely confused, his brows furrowing as he looks around the room and back at Steve.

“Isn’t Ivy your girlfriend?”

“Ivy?! Ivy Jane? The woman who told me on day one of me living here that if she even so much as accidentally saw my dick she’d cut it off?” Eddie laughs, unamused. “She’s a friend at most. More of a useful annoyance.”

Steve is confused. Why did Eddie make it seem like there was more to it than that? Why couldn’t Eddie renew his lease? Why didn’t anyone tell him about any of this?

“Look, you probably shouldn’t head home on your own. I know you didn’t drink, but it’s still pretty late, and I know you walked here.” Eddie sighs. “Can I at least get you an Uber?”

“To go less than a mile?”

“Or I could walk you.”

“And then walk back alone?”

“You don’t have to argue with everything, you know,” Eddie grumbles. “I’m just trying to make sure you’re safe.”

“I didn’t know ex-boyfriends cared that much.”

It’s a low blow and Eddie’s physical withdrawal is immediate. Steve instantly feels bad.

No matter what happened between them, he knows Eddie. He knows he’s trying to be nice and all Steve’s doing is making that task more difficult.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Steve sighs. “I’m just surprised that you’d care this much when we haven’t even talked in months.”

“Steve, I’ll always care about you.”

It’s a knife to his chest.

Because that’s not even remotely close to what Eddie had said to him months ago when he was throwing his shit in a bag and running as fast as he could. It’s not how he made Steve feel when he told him they were done.

”I’m not gonna keep pretending this can end well for either of us.”

He’d made it pretty obvious he had no intention of loving Steve beyond the year they spent together, and Steve had no choice but to assume he’d been faking feelings for him to try to get over him.

Steve doesn’t realize he’s let tears fall until Eddie’s thumbs are brushing them away, his touch so soft it makes Steve want to sob.

Before he can say anything or push Eddie away, Eddie’s hand is on his lower back, guiding him down the hallway of the apartment.

He doesn’t fight it, even though alarm bells are ringing in his head telling him to pause and go home, maybe try to talk to Eddie when he’s calmed down from the shock of seeing him. The warmth of Eddie next to him is enough to silence any fears he has.

He’s sitting on Eddie’s bed. The room is surprisingly plain for a room that belongs to Eddie, but the sheets on the bed are scattered and one pillow looks more like a ball, so he knows it’s his. Eddie sleeps the same way he talks: constantly moving, shuffling around, trying to find comfort in touch.

“I’ll take the couch once everyone leaves. You probably shouldn’t be alone right now,” Eddie says from in front of him, keeping his hands to himself.

He probably shouldn’t, but if Eddie’s on the couch, doesn’t that leave him alone anyway?

“You can come get me if you need anything,” Eddie explains further. “And I can come check on you.”

“Right,” Steve’s voice is shaky. “But you could stay?”

Eddie’s eyes are scanning his face, always trying to see what Steve isn’t saying. He’s always been good about reading Steve.

“Is that what you want?” Eddie eventually asks.

Steve nods because he can’t think of anything to say that won’t sound like he’s desperate for more of Eddie’s touch.

He lays down and waits for Eddie to join him, but he’s not sure what he’s hoping for anymore. The best thing to do would be to tell Eddie he changed his mind and send him to the couch, the second best would probably be to go home. But what ends up happening is Eddie locks the bedroom door and slips his shoes off, strips his jeans down his legs, and slides into bed with him.

He doesn’t touch him at first, though the bed isn’t quite big enough for them to not accidentally brush arms as they find comfortable positions.

Steve lets his eyes close, even though he’s never felt more awake, even though he feels every breath Eddie takes as if it’s his own.

“I love you.”

Steve’s eyes shoot open at Eddie’s whispered confession.

They were together for a year and Eddie never said it. Steve didn’t even say it for fear of Eddie running. And when he finally did say it, when he had the nerve to ask him to move in with him, Eddie ran.

So, he couldn’t have possibly heard what he thought he just heard.

“I know it’s too late. I should’ve told you six months ago.” Eddie scoffed at his own words. “Actually, I should’ve told you when I realized it on our third date. There’s no excuse. You told me why you were hesitant to tell people how you felt and I should’ve known it would be harder for you than it would be for me.”

Steve turns on his side, eyes wide as he takes in the way Eddie’s eyes are slowly blinking up at the ceiling, fingers tapping anxiously against his own stomach.

“Why did you leave, then? If you loved me, why did you let me think you didn’t?”

Steve’s impressed with his sudden ability not to cry when he’d so easily let tears fall earlier.

Eddie turns his head. His fingers still. The room is silent, but Steve can feel the vibrations of the music playing down the hall.

“I don’t know.”

It’s anticlimactic, and not good enough, but Steve believes him. He believes that Eddie truly doesn’t know his own thought process behind walking away from what could’ve been a good future for them.

“Why say it now?”

“Because I needed you to leave here in the morning knowing that what you were asking for wasn’t unreasonable. I needed you to know that your feelings were fine, and that nothing you did pushed me away. You deserve the chance to move on properly.”

Steve can feel his heart in every nerve ending of his body, pulsing to a wild beat, a dangerous tempo that he isn’t sure he wants to control. Eddie always made him feel like this, like he was one step away from jumping off a ledge, like he was flying through the air without a parachute.

“I don’t want to move on.”

Steve crushes his lips to Eddie’s, letting out a pained groan that’s muffled by Eddie’s lips pushing against his own. It’s not soft, not even gross the way their kisses got when they’d been sweaty and pushing each other to their limits for hours.

It was forgiveness and yearning and need wrapped into a single point of contact.

But once Eddie’s hands found Steve’s hips, all he wanted was to feel Eddie everywhere.

“Missed you,” he admits breathlessly.

“Missed you, too, Stevie. So much,” Eddie gasps against his mouth.

It doesn’t take long for them to strip out of their clothes, for Eddie’s mouth to find all of Steve’s sensitive spots, for bruises to be left in places that will be hard to cover up tomorrow. They’re both panting, trying to hide moans against the pillows and sweaty skin.

Steve laughs when Eddie’s lips trail down to the head of his leaking cock.

Eddie looks up, frowning as if he’s disappointed that he was interrupted.

“What could you possibly be laughing at?”

“How easy it was to get me in your bed. Did you know I was coming tonight?” He does his best not to sound accusatory, but a small part of him worries that Eddie’s plan all night has been to get him naked. It wouldn’t be the first time those were his intentions.

“I had no idea you’d be here,” Eddie nips at his thigh. “But if I did, I would’ve planned this exact outcome, yeah.”

Steve slaps at his shoulder but moans when Eddie’s lips wrap around the head of his cock, tongue lapping up the precum that had been gathering for a while.

They get lost in it, in being able to touch each other, in finally having what they’d both missed for so long. Steve’s hands hardly ever leave Eddie’s hair and Eddie’s tongue is like a magnet to every inch of his skin.

He kisses down his length, he sucks bruises into his thighs, he sucks his cock until Steve’s trembling under him, saying his name over and over. Begging, praying, he didn’t even know anymore.

Steve doesn’t even realize he’s close until Eddie’s asking if he wants to finish like this or with Eddie inside him.

“Want you inside, but I don’t know if I can last that long,” Steve pouts. Now that he feels the coil in his belly and the flush of his chest and neck, he knows there’s no way he’ll make it through Eddie stretching him. He’s half-tempted to just have Eddie fuck him with no prep, but Eddie will never go for it. “C’mere?”

Eddie kisses his way up Steve’s body, biting a nipple and licking sweat from his collarbone before settling perfectly between his legs. He’s smiling down at Steve like he could stay there all night, like he didn’t just get interrupted in the middle of one of the best blowjobs of Steve’s life.

“Can we just…” Steve tilts his hips up so his cock rubs against Eddie’s. Both of them groan as Eddie hangs his head. “Like this?”

Eddie nods before resting his forehead against Steve’s and letting out a breath.

“I’m not gonna last long,” he whispers, like it’s a secret that he’s been getting off making Steve feel good.

“Me either. ‘S okay.”

Their cocks brush together as Eddie leans down on his elbows. Steve lifts his legs up to wrap around Eddie’s waist, pulling him down so there’s a constant friction between them.

“Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you,” Steve’s breath catches on his words.

Eddie’s hips move faster, and Steve does his best to meet every thrust. They’re in sync as if they were never apart, and Steve thinks this is all he needs for the rest of his life.

He knew that before, when they were together, and after Eddie left. But feeling it now, with Eddie above him, surrounding him, practically sharing his breaths, he knows Eddie’s it for him.

That thought is what sends him over the edge.

He cups Eddie’s cheek in his hand and pulls him into a searing kiss, one that’s more tongue and teeth than lips, more passion than finesse.

But it sends Eddie over the edge, too.

After, when they’ve stopped shaking and Eddie used his t-shirt to wipe up their mess, Steve taps his fingers against Eddie’s chest in a familiar pattern.

“Since when do you know the beat to a Metallica song?” Eddie asks, smirking down at him.

“It’s what you always used to tap on my arm when we were falling asleep. I didn’t know it was Metallica,” Steve yawns as he speaks, exhaustion seeping through every pore of his body.

“You remembered that?”

“Mhm. Remember everything.” He yawns again and lets his eyes close.

He’s pretty sure Eddie starts tapping a new pattern on his arm as he drifts to sleep. He doesn’t recognize it, but he’ll have plenty of time to learn this one, and the next one, and whatever else the future brings for them.