#imagine someone recording it lmao

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ Baby, you know that you won ❞ [part 2/2]

Peter Parker x male!superhero!reader | light angst, comfort, peter gets a panic attack, make-up s*x | dom. bttm. reader (AMAB) | wc: 3K

warnings: overstimulation, light degradation (slut, whore), subspace (Peter), light dacryphilia

masterlist; part 1; part 2

(Y/N)'s comforting words manage to make Peter's tears cease; (Y/N)'s degrading, possessive, words restart the waterworks.

New York could be burning to the ground right now and Peter couldn't find it in himself to care. He had his head in his hands, hidden further from view by his knees. Peter desperately tried to get oxygen into his lungs with his lips wet with spit. (Y/N) wasn't faring any better. He was standing, sure, but he was just as breathless as his ex-boyfriend. (Y/N) wiped the drool that had messily trailed down his chin with the back of his hand, finding his footing as he leaned his shoulder on the wall. "Two superheroes rendered helpless from a kiss" (Y/N) chuckled. "Is the public truly safe?" he slid down to settle right beside Peter who flinched. "Woah, hey" (Y/N) lifted his hands beside his head with his knees now turning away from the still panting Spiderman. "Talk to me, Pete. What's wrong?" he would've made a joke about how he surely wasn't that good of a kisser - followed by how flattered he was if Peter quipped back like he usually did. But the situation had no room for light-hearted humour. Against his better judgement, Peter ripped his mask away from his face and furiously wiped his tears away. Unable to keep himself from comforting him, (Y/N) grasped onto the sides of his face so he could take a proper look at his Peter.

What a pitiful expression. His cheeks were all blotchy and flushed, fat tears rolling down from his eyes that were rimmed with red. "Oh, baby" (Y/N)'s thumb brushed his tears away and Peter sniffled as he turned his nose into his palm. "Breathe with me, Peter, breathe with me", it wasn't often Peter cried until breathing became an arduous task. There were a few times when both of them were younger and their emotions were just as tumultuous as their lives. There were even times when he screams awake from the night terror of losing (Y/N) to an enemy. But, whenever they do happen, (Y/N) is there just like he is now. He brings Peter's ear to his chest, carefully arranging his limbs to not overwhelm the boy but holds him firmly against him. There it was. That beautiful thud, thud, thud of (Y/N)'s chest makes Peter's heart want to leap out of his ribcage and bury itself next to his. "Fuck" Peter finally catches his breath, his heartbeat steadying as (Y/N)'s fingers card through his brown hair. "Language, mister, kids look up to you, ya' know" tutted (Y/N) and Peter guffaws. Their limbs unravel. The two heroes sat across from each other, their ankles bashfully pressed against each other. Brief silence. The city's ambience muffles it. (Y/N) places his arm on his knee, then his chin on top of it; just watching Peter as he catches his bearings. "You're not gonna ask?" he wipes the remains of his tears, sniffling and turning away to awkwardly fold his mask around on his lap. "Why you were crying?" Peter nods and (Y/N) shrugs his answer. Silence again. Peter pursed his lips. "I had reoccurring nightmares about losing you, not being able to save you while you". The breath he exhales is a shudder, his poor mask suffocating between his fingers. "You were dying, (Y/N). Right in my arms and wuh-while...while we were kissing, I thought about our fight, how the last time we would've seen each other would've been screaming and yelling." "I'm scared, I'm scared this is a dream," he says in one breath, tears brimming his eyes again though he manages to blink them away. (Y/N) wants to gather Peter in his arms again. But Peter curls up further and (Y/N) opts to speak; "Pretty sure you don't get hangover symptoms while you dream, Peter". It was a weak reassurance but Peter smiles and (Y/N) returns it. "What did we even fight about, (Y/N)?" Peter sounds oblivious, very much needing an answer from the man in front of him. (Y/N)'s eyes widen and he seems just as oblivious as Peter was. He breaks their gaze and shrugs. "Stupid shit, I think I got mad that you forgot a date". "I got mad that you keep digging into Wilson Fisk's shit" (Y/N)'s eyes seemed defiant as they glanced at Peter's but then they soften, and he nods. "You forgot it was your turn to fold laundry" (Y/N) continued. "I told you that you never liked how I folded anyways". "S'not the point, dumbass" (Y/N) rolls his eyes, still smiling. "Snapped at me for rounding up 'your villain'" Peter retells with a snort while (Y/N) pouts. "You let my laptop get stolen because you webbed it to a random alleyway when an assignment was due that night" Peter huffs. "I told you to upload your shit on a cloud". His sharp glare makes Peter raise his hand in surrender. "Right, sorry, sorry," said Peter.

"I'm sorry" (Y/N) confesses. "I guess things just...piled up?" he leans back on his hands again and stupid, hormonal, Peter can't get that picture out of his head. "We ended up nit-picking and it just got worse. I should've said something instead of bottling it up".

Peter mused the thought, of what could've happened if the two of them simply communicated instead of going through weeks of unnecessary heartache all over fucking laundry and petty superhero turf-wars. If they'd just opened their mouths, Peter wouldn't have to antagonize the dip in their mattress like a crazy person. They would've laid together, sweaty bodies grinding, wet lips opened in silent screams, backs arching and nails scratching against the skin. Peter could only imagine the bliss of (Y/N) on his lap, moving those sinful hips of his as he moans about how big and deep Peter's cock was. The very fact that he could not recall any recent memory of (Y/N) riding him like a professional made his dick incredibly angry. "...Yeah," came Peter's belated reply. (Y/N) tilts his head and reaches a foot forward to lightly poke at Peter's shin. "That's your apology?" Peter is blushing now, (Y/N) realizes, but as he drifts his eyes lower he sees it's for an entirely different reason. "Wow". Peter brings his knees together, groaning as he tossed his head back with enough momentum to also bring his body down. At least he has the decency to cover his face. "Don't" warns Peter but his voice is wavering and (Y/N)'s laugh is especially cruel as he refuses to heed it. "Man, Spiderman is a wreck tonight" he purrs. "Fuck off, I'm not the one watching my ex sleep, ya' pervert" (Y/N) unabashedly settles himself on top of Peter's lap despite his pathetic whines. "Yeah, yeah" he dismisses whilst Peter chews on his lower lip when (Y/N) settles his ass on his crotch. "I'm the pervert? Your boner's twitching against my ass but I'm the pervert?" (Y/N) squeezes his inner thighs and his hips move forward - Peter whimpers at the friction. Cocking a brow, (vigilante name) braces his hands next to Spiderman's head and leans down. "What a slut" he coos. Peter scoffs at him while his hands find their home on (Y/N)'s waist, gloved fingers smoothing down the globes of his ass as he grabs a handful of each cheek. Peter spreads what he can and (Y/N) sighs in bliss at his incessant kneading. "I wasn't the one taking nudes of myself on a public rooftop to lure my ex back" and (Y/N) pauses as he takes in Peter's absolutely, tomato-envying, red blush that was accompanied by a shit-eating grin. "Do you think your villains know the reason you wear that mask is because you blush like a bitch in heat every time you get all cocky? Like some sort of adrenaline rush. Seriously, a minute ago you were crying over making out with me" "Hey" Peter pouts, pushing himself up and resting on his elbows but he doesn't relent. (Y/N) just grabs his cheeks - not at all gentle like he was before, his grip was firmer now and Peter's seen how much strength he has behind it. "Now you're pretending you're some macho man, shaming me when you probably jacked off to that picture before you came here" Peter's body betrays him in several ways. His cock twitches and he darts his eyes faster than he can stop himself - damn, that mask really does save him a lot of humiliation. (Y/N)'s grin makes Peter gulp.

"You did" purrs (Y/N) "Filthy little cretin. I wonder what would they think if they saw you like this" "T-They?" (Y/N) motions his head to the ledge. "The people that think you're ever so noble" he leans to kiss at the spot between Peter's ear and jaw, pressing his teeth there just to feel him shudder. "What would they think of you?" Peter quips, giving a harsh spank to his ass, earning him a stuttering gasp. "(vigilante name), the slut that stoops low enough to use his body to get his boyfriend to do this" For a second, Peter thinks he's said something wrong as (Y/N) stiffens above him. Perhaps he'd crossed a line. But (Y/N) smashes his lips against his, relieved and elated that Peter had called him his boyfriend. Even if it was a slip of the tongue, (Y/N) felt his heart swooning. "Pretty sure they'd understand if they knew you were my boyfriend" Peter hears the rustling of clothes and (Y/N) top half is bare, so naturally he assists in removing it all before he scrambles to get naked himself. "Brr..." Peter pauses mid-strip, his own costume awkwardly bunched below his armpits. "Cold, baby?" he asks, (Y/N) nods.

“Warm me up?" Peter laughs at the cheesiness but hey, he was in his boxer briefs in less than a minute so it worked. Now with less constricting layers out of the way, they collided with each other in a heated embrace. A mess of tongue, teeth, and hands desperate and hungry to feel the expanses and curves of their bodies. It was all bordering on animalistic - the sounds of their panting muffling everything else as their heads moved to and fro, crotches bumping and grinding.

Peter's costume was used as a makeshift pillow for his head as he bucked his hips making (Y/N) moan, the wet patches on their underwear left them with little to no shame. "You're so fucking hard" (Y/N) groaned, reaching between them to grab Peter's clothed cock which elicits a moan. "Shit, forget about the foreplay, I need to be inside you" Peter sucks on his fingers and although (Y/N) would tease he was just as desperate. He yelps as Peter's fingers find his hole, chuckling after gaining some composure. "Easy, I'm not going anywhere - ah!" his eyebrow slopes all prettily again and Peter can't find it in himself to have some decorum. He slips one finger in, just lightly slicked with saliva. "You're..." he slips in another with ease and (Y/N)'s thighs twitch, his hips move away from those slender digits but Peter chases. "Christ, you are a slut - you're already stretched out. There's still lube!" his boyfriend shushes him by gripping the head of his cock. "Announce it to the whole of New York why don't ya'" A few skilful flicks of (Y/N)'s wrists and Peter's eyes flutter closed, fingers still pumping in and out dutifully.

For a moment, Peter wonders if it’d been another that had found themselves inside of (Y/N) and his heart squeezes at the very possibility. “D-Did you, with anyone?” (Y/N) whispers a ‘no’ that makes Peter more gleeful than he’d like to admit.

“So you have no right mocking me for jacking off” Peter might as well have stuck his tongue out at (Y/N) like a child.

“Are you seriously -- Goddammit! Yeah! Right there” his hole clenches tight around Peter’s fingers as his prostrate was found, effectively shutting him up. "E-Enough, enough, fuck, let me pound you already" In a graceful swoop, Peter has (Y/N) on his back with his thighs resting over Peter's hips. This wasn't completely unusual for the couple - their trysts haven't always been in the comfort of their mattress which was a given considering their double lives as superheroes. They weren't strangers to doing it on rooftops, alleyways, and occasionally abandoned/half-finished buildings. Honestly, they could fill a whole book with their sex adventures. But this particular rooftop was a favourite because it'd been the first time they'd done it after revealing their identities to each other. (Y/N) exhales a quick laugh while Peter grumbles, pulling his cock out. It twitches from the brisk air but then its head catches on (Y/N)'s rim and his cock starts leaking precum, the tip peeking out from his ruffled-up underwear that's a little too tight but neither noticed to care. "You do remember how to use the little guy don't you?" Peter squeezes (Y/N) thigh in warning as he wets his lips, murmuring a 'shut up' as he grips the base. Sighing in relief when it finally gets past the ring of muscle. He braces his hands near (Y/N)'s waist and moans, half-lidded eyes taking in the sight of pure ecstasy on his boyfriend's face. (Y/N) can't think. He's convinced Peter's cock was made for him because when Peter fills him it makes his toes curl. Every delicious drag of his dick makes (Y/N) groan in pleasure, that sweet bundle of nerves getting rammed into whenever Peter's balls slap against his skin. "Fuckkk" The brunette smiles dopily and that scrunched expression on (Y/N) urges him to claim his lips. Arms wrap around his neck and Peter presses his thighs down until his knees touch his chest when he pulls away from the kiss. "Ready?" "Give it to me, baby". The power behind those hips reveals itself in slow but harsh thrusts. He builds a steady pace, slowly gaining more speed and it makes (Y/N) bare his neck and arch his back, his nails digging into Peter's back. "Th-That's it" (Y/N) groans. Peter feels his fingers crawling up his neck before gasping as his hair was grabbed. "Fuck me just like that, pretty boy - Ngh! Shiiit, yeah, come on, fuck this ass, it's yours, all yours" Peter's blush worsens at the vulgar words. As if he'd never heard them before or gotten painfully hard because of them. "Your mouth s'filthy" he grunts with a sharp thrust that has the boy on his dick squealing. "You - ah! Like it" he kisses Peter, nipping at his bottom lip before the incessant pressure on his dick becomes too much and suddenly he's tightening. Peter inhales sharply, stuttering out (Y/N)'s name. Peter cums. Hard. Without much warning. He stills with a few jerky shakes of his hips and they pant to catch their breaths. Embarrassment pools in his stomach but before he can completely register it, he's back on his back and (Y/N)'s putting his dick back inside that sloppy hole.

"M'not done yet, Petey" he sighs then he starts moving. Peter hisses, attempting to get the upper hand by grasping at his hips.

"Wuh-Wait, (Y/N), baby -" They slam down hard enough to make a smacking sound, ass jiggling as gravity helps (Y/N) ride Peter's already hardening dick. Peter chokes with his eyes rolling back as he tilts his head back, Adam's apple bobbing thickly. "Fuuckkk" he whines, the sound high in his throat. His stamina is usually something to be marvelled at but it's been weeks and honestly, he'd come into his fist way too many times. Shirt in his mouth, Polaroid in his right hand while his left works to undo him. But (Y/N) isn't complaining. He loves seeing his pretty boy gasp and whine about it being 'too much please I can't' while those whorish moans spill from his lips. Peter's cum is leaking back onto his dick, a ring of white frothing at (Y/N)'s asshole as he squeeezes the cockhead while he's up and makes Peter groan out his name when he sliiides back down. "M'close" Peter warns, eyes hazily watching his boyfriend finally pull his cock out. He's greedy - he wants it in his mouth and the thoughts are so obvious in those coffee-brown eyes that it makes (Y/N) keen. "Me too, God, your cock feels so good, filling me up so well" Peter nods dumbly, not all there. "M'making you feel good?" (Y/N) nods, his chest being grabbed by Peter who suckles at his nipples like a big baby, his filthy hands groping and touching while (Y/N) trembles in his hold. His hands find themselves back in Peter's hair.

He slows to a stop, making Peter gasp out a series of 'nonono please don't stop'. "Shh, look at me, baby" It takes a few seconds for Peter to comprehend the command and a few more to sharpen his eyes to focus. He scratches his scalp comfortingly, lips pecking Peter's kiss-swollen ones. "Not gonna leave me again, right?" the tips of their noses brush against each other. Peter shakes his head, his hands rubbing circles on his hips. "Never, don't wanna be without you, just want you, like this, forever" he smiles, kissing Peter again as he moves his hips. "Cum in me again I wanna feel you inside" "I-I can do that" Peter whispers "M'so close" "Me too, mpfh, fuck, Peter - I love you so fuckin' much" That has Peter whining again. He kisses (Y/N), teeth clacking against each other while he messily bucks his hips up like a desperate animal. "Luh-love you too. Fuck, love you so muh-much, (Y/N), (Y/N)(Y/N)(Y/N)" Like a mantra, Peter keeps saying his name and the way it sounds as if he's in worship makes (Y/N) spurt cum right on their stomach and chest, and some reach their chin. Peter's groan has his voice breaking when he finishes inside his favourite hole. The warmth that fills (Y/N) has him going lax, sighing in pleasure as he leans against his pretty boy. "Never letting you go" he hears Peter murmur on his neck. "Mine, all mine..." (Y/N) smiles, holding his Peter close. "All yours, pretty baby".

[wannaeatramyeon]

....uhhh can I ask you a favor of photoshop Gun into a Sumo wrestlers the fit type on because I can't erase it in my mind, and yep I will try to draw it LOL.

I wonder if Goo also dress into that as a fun japan experience.

What like this?? Btw this was the most visibly muscular sumo wrestler I could find.

[pagesofkenna]

if i ever DO decide to move to the midwest, or just generally the US east, which is where the midwest is, ive got to start an influencer-style shortform video series where i try out non-Californian things for the first time from an extremely Californian-perspective

[lunar-years]

like 50 shades...where the crawdads sing...and now it ends with us...im hacking into the emails of the next atrocious book to film adaptation and deleting Austin Swift's contact information before it can reach them

[hyacinthsdiamonds]

Yeah somehow I think Michael's happy with who broke his record of most wins in a season <3

[captainimprobable]

Me: Oh boy, I can't wait to be a barista! Those guys are queer and quirky and I'm gonna fit right in! My coworkers, the most aggressively normal people I've ever met, IMMEDIATELY deciding they dislike me because I'm Too Much: lol

[amiharana]

A very loose prompt: a while ago I found a bunch of Stone tower temple theme covers (especially NostalgiCore's and TheNamelessBard's covers), and that got me in a Revalink mood: first, a pretty straightforward idea of Revali and BotW!Link somehow walking around Stone Tower ruins and wondering just what those ruins were in its prime, and second: the tunes living on, and Revali or Link dancing to one of them while the other is watching (also, the fact that one of the catchiest fan lyrics go "danger lurks around every bend, you cannot succed alone; sing the song, let go of your grief, solider comes whose heart is stone" could be pretty easily made to fit revalink: both Link and Revali have reasons to craft an image of themselves as an unsheakeble warrior (Link literally stopped talking out of fear of saying the wrong thing, and Revali tries to look like the most arrogant Rito to ever walk Hyrule, despite evidence to the countrary) as someone who may as well have a heart of stone, and both of them have things they grieve about, so them going together through Ikana valley - a place that requires putting ghosts to rest - would sound a lot like fulfilling the lyrics. Bonus points if they actually need to solve the Stone Tower puzzles together to go back to BotW and key Ikana characters are still around to help them(not really ship relevant, I just thought it would be lowkey funny when BotW boys would bump into Ikana undead and learn that one of the Hero incarnations had shown up here already).

anon i first want to sincerely apologize it took me so long to answer this ask because (1) i never finished playing majora's mask so i can't write a good enough fic to do justice to mm lore and (2) it was sent during a time when i was probably prepping for an exam. i'm still prepping for exams, i have another one next wednesday 😭

but i still took the time to go find and listen the covers you were mentioned! i hope these were the right ones, because they went kinda hard ☝️😩 they both made me think about a tangled au like flynn rider!revali x rapunzel!link, like that one scene where everyone is dancing together in the town center or whatever lol. i couldn't find the one you mentioned with fan lyrics though but if you'd like to send them, or if anyone else knows where it's from, please do!

iirc, termina is a completely different world from hyrule and oot!link somehow gets in after an altercation with skull kid who has the majora's mask. spoilers for people who haven't played mm? but i just read that termina was a creation of skull kid's own mind so it's not even a real world 😳 so i'm interested to know how link and revali got into the stone tower temple in the first place, or if another temple of the same name perhaps exists in hyrule analogous to the one in termina. like would they run into skull kid somewhere in botw's hyrule? or find the mask on their own (since majora's mask is available in botw as dlc) and somehow termina still exists within the mask? link why the fuck would you put on the mask what da hell?

i would assume that termina's existence relies on skull kid's active envisionment of it and link's constant resetting with the ocarina that causes the perpetual three-day time loop and prevents the moon from falling. and in addition, that termina was created with the purpose of being skull kid's plaything to . hurt and kill people out of his frustration? like i said, i never got to finish mm so i'm kind of iffy on the details of the story sawrryy ✋😭 but it's like. does termina go against the conventions of time? if we assume that termina is a creation of skull kid's imagination, will it be able to continue existing as its own world? will it always be in a three-day loop or after oot!link saves termina, does it continue in a regular continuous flow of time, therefore resulting in the ruins of the stone tower temple? would places like clock town still be thriving thousands of years later? like what if link and revali met skull kid somehow in botw, pissed him off, got dragged in termina, and had to go exactly through what oot!link did in order to escape LMAOOO

i could imagine revali and link bickering about how the other was the reason why they got into this mess, and then they step into clock town from within the clock tower and are completely shocked because they were just in the lost woods and now they're in the middle of a town??? you mentioned wanting to see them meet key mm characters specifically from ikana, but since i don't know any of them (i'm sorry again 😭), imagine link and revali meeting anju at the stockpot inn just trying to get a room to sleep and anju being like. huh. your name is link, too? and having to explain to revali n link that a child in green with the same name and disposition as botw!link had come to termina years ago and saved their town from the moon falling and destroying it. and revali and link are just like. The moon was WHAT? and a CHILD saved you????

link and revali joining in during the carnival of time, and maybe the carnival of time now has a segment where they retell the story of the child in green who saved termina through song and dance, and link gets roped into dancing with the townspeople during the stone temple tower piece. he doesn't know the dance at all, but one thing about link is that he picks up very quickly on everything 😙 so revali is off to the sides of the town center with everyone else crossing his arms, watching link as he begins to catch onto the choreography and keeping in step with the rest of the dancers. he spins and twirls and claps with the other dancers, a smile growing on his face as the song continues, and revali is completely enamored. link had always been beautiful to him, but he was constantly surprisingly revali. this might become one of revali's favorite aspects of link's beauty now.

by the end of the dance, link is panting, sweating, and his cheeks are flushed with a rosy glow. revali's eyes are still on him; they never left link at all. someone nudges revali with their elbow and he glances at them briefly. "that one yours?" they say with a smirk, pointing their chin at link. revali looks back at link, who's smiling brightly thanking and complimenting the other dancers. the little hylian then catches revali's eye, and his bright grin becomes a shy, but warm smile.

revali's gaze softens. "he's not a object to possess," he says to the stranger. he watches as link bows slightly to the other dancers in farewell, then begins to jog back over to revali. "but if there's any possession occuring, it would be his hold on my heart." the stranger says nothing, eyes wide.

once link approaches, his jog falters into a walk. "have fun?" revali says, rather softly.

link nods, smiling. "i didn't think i'd learn it that fast, but it was a really fun dance."

revali hums. "well, it looked like you had fun doing it. ready to turn in for the night?"

"mhm," link replies, and revali can hear the drowsiness beginning to seep into his ever-slumberous songbird's voice. the little hylian then moves forward to cling to revali's wing, and the rito glances at the stranger who's been watching their exchange the entire time.

"enjoy the rest of your evening," revali says primly to him. he tosses his braids over his shoulder as they turn away to walk back to the inn. while he didn't "own" link, it was true, at least, that his heart was for link to own.

i don't want this to get too long and end up misremembering details or something, but imagine some of the lyrics of the stone tower temple song resonating too deeply with revali and link after they think about it later, so they ask anju about it and she tells them about the actual stone tower temple in ikana valley that the song talks about and maybe that's how they end up traveling to the temple, exploring the ruins, somehow getting booby-trapped inside, and having to complete old-school dungeon puzzles to get out 😄

that's all from me for now. if anyone else is interested in writing for this prompt, go for it 🫣

[sentientsky]

my knuckles are all red and bloodied and it looks very much like i was in a fight but it's actually just the dry + icy canadian winter air mixed with my terrible fucking circulation <3

[risingsunresistance]

o h

[gideonnavsenormousbiceps]

imagine being a Greek or Roman in mythology because if you happen upon a little old lady while you're traveling she's probably a goddess in disguise and if I don't help her I get cursed for eternity but if I do help her I'll probably die in a brutal way and suffer unimaginable torment

But also imagine if this was still a concept that existed today so you were obligated to help every old lady that can't reach something in the grocery store or needs help crossing a road...just in case...can't risk those pesky goddesses cursing you for not helping them reach the top shelf

[mycological-mariner]

As it turns out, after being really impassioned to learn about my Nana’s side of the family that I am a descendant of one of my ‘historical enemies’

Rest in fucking peace.

[possibly-in-wonderland]

i have no private area in the house to actually record audio so the closest place i have is the car...

welp, why not

[jji-lee]

dreamies kinks .

(MDNI)

everything mentioned is consensual , unprotected sex (be smart) , everything is labelled before u read so be warned , idea by this lovely request !

❀༉‧₊˚. mark lee is needy all the time, all he every thinks about is fucking you

cock warming

the idea of just having you sit on his lap, cock buried deep inside you makes his head turn. only time during something sexual that mark will be calm. if he's stressed this is his go to. it's like meditating for him, feeling you pulse around him, warm and wet. by the end of it he'll have you face down ass up as he rams into you. "s' warm baby, sweet pussy hugging me so tight. feel good baby? feel me deep inside you?"

exhibitionism

the type where you fuck in places where you could possibly get caught. he doesn't care if you're at the mall or backstage of a concert, if he wants you he'll have you. gets turned on by the fact that someone (usually haechan) will walk in on you guys, fucks you harder so that your moans grow louder. it's his way of letting people know you're his. "shhh baby, wouldn't want someone to hear us right? wouldn't want everyone knowing how good i fuck you hm?"

recording

he will always take his phone out and start to record you. whenever he's on tour or just bored he'll open his hidden folder with all the pics and vids of you guys having sex. he might even use an audio of you moaning in one of his songs, if you let him ofc. "fuck baby, i wish you could see yourself right now, you look so hot, sound so pretty too, damn."

❀༉‧₊˚. huang renjun doesn't have sex he makes love, it's intimate and beautiful.

temperature play

whether it's wax or ice he gets turned on by seeing you squirm around from the feeling. sometimes he'll even blindfold you so you won't know what's coming. loves to hold the ice in his mouth as he traces it along your body. "like when i put ice here hm? look at how hard these pretty little nipples are baby."

marking

he always leaves marks on your body. it could be love bites on your chest, or slap marks on your ass. it's the possessive side of jun that can't help but see you painted in purple and pink. "fuck angel, you're all mine right? everyone's gonna know you're all mine."

bondage

hes the type to buy pretty ties and ropes to wrap you up in. will study kinbaku to do it with you. something about seeing you 100% vulnerable to him (and wrapped up with pretty rope) that makes him want to ravage you. "alright angel, put your hands behind your back, tell me if it's too tight okay?"

❀༉‧₊˚. lee jeno likes when you know he's in charge, sex with him is hot and rough

face fucking

loves to see you gag around him. he'll hold your head steady as he fucks himself into your mouth, barely letting you come up for air. "fuck, my pretty baby takes this cock so well. just a little bit more hm? you can do it baby."

breeding

this is a given tbh. the idea of getting you pregnant awakens the most possessive instinct in him. knowing that you trust him and only him to fill you up drives him crazy. "i'm the only one that can fill this pretty little pussy, right baby? only me."

size

another given. he alwaysss mentions how tiny you are compared to him during sex. makes you watch him as he fucks you, your tight cunt practically suffocating his cock. wraps his whole body around you, just to feel how much bigger he is than you. "fuck baby, this tight little pussy is squeezing me so good, barely fits baby, look."

❀༉‧₊˚. lee donghyuck doesn't want you to fuck him, he wants you to use him

breath play

he enjoys choking you but he loves when you choke him. your small hands wrapped around his neck as you ride him will actually drive him insane. his eyes roll back and his mouth hangs open as he feels himself losing oxygen. will literally make him finish every time. just imagine him with an opened mouth smirk as you choke him since he can't speak without air LMAO

overstimulation

that slight pain he feels as you keep fucking him after he's finished makes his toes curl. he's begging you to stop but you know deep down he loves being overstimulated. no matter how much he squirms and tries to push you off, his whiny little moans speak for themselves. "shit, shit, shit, baby, fuck, too much, s' too much, please, i can't, fuck baby i'm, i'm, fuckkk."

degradation

hyucks a dirty perv and he knows it, thats why he thinks it's so hot when you call him names, make fun of him, maybe even slap him around. hearing you talk down to him, telling him that you're better than him will have him on his knees. "fuck yes, i'm your dirty baby, shit, i'm so pathetic baby, keep using me please that's all i'm good for."

❀༉‧₊˚. na jaemin thinks you're perfect, thats why in bed all he wants to do is ruin you

face fucking

jaemin can't get enough of your mouth. all he ever wants to do is fuck your mouth until your mascaras running and drool is spilling from the sides of your lips. he does it mainly for the view tbh. his pretty girl with her mouth full of cock, yes please. "there you go princess, just like that, keep those pretty eyes on me baby, wanna see you when i stuff your mouth full of cum."

clothed sex

he takes you shopping just so he can help you pick out a cute outfit to fuck you in. he loves pushing your soaked panties to the side just to slip himself in, grabbing onto your crumpled skirt as he takes you from behind, pulling your shirt up just enough to have your tits peeking out the bottom. "look so pretty in this little skirt baby, can practically see all your ass. s' easy for me to just- slip right in."

dacryphilia

seeing that you're literally crying, cause the sex is that good is the biggest ego boost for jaemin. it'll just push him to go harder, a choked sob leaving your mouth as he fucks you at an inhumane pace. "look at you baby, fuck you so good you're crying? daddy making you feel good, hm? use your words princess."

❀༉‧₊˚. zhong chenle is a brat especially during sex, he can't help but tease you

cock warming

this little shit does this just to see you squirming. he'll have the calmest demeanor, acting completely unaffected by the fact that his cock is stuffed inside you. he's dying to just flip you over and fuck you but he'll wait till you're practically in tears begging him to fuck you. "dirty girl, can feel your pussy throbbing. can't even stay still for 5 minutes? i have no choice but to punish you hm?"

edging

literally can go hours teasing you. he'll use his cock, fingers, mouth, even toys to bring you to your orgasm, just so that he can tell you to hold it in. by the end of the night you're crying begging for release, but he's waiting for the right moment, if it ever comes... "wanna cum baby hm? i know you do, just hold on a little bit more okay? you're doing so good for me, so good, love seeing you like this beautiful."

forced orgasm

same concept different outcome, your whining and screaming is like a drug to him. i 100% believe that chenle is a pro at making girls squirt (srry not srry) the scenes almost pornographic as he rubs your clit at an inhumane pace, other hand occupied as he stuffs you full with his finger. your legs are shaking, body moist with sweat as you cum for the 5th time that night. "it's okay mama, you're okay. feel good right? let's go for one more hm?

❀༉‧₊˚. park jisung is a shy freak, blushing as he's 8 inches deep

size

jisung is big, and he knows it. big nose, big hands, big dick. he loves grabbing your tits and ass, no matter how big they are his hands make them look tiny. and he loves easing his cock into you watching as you tiny cunt sucks him in, his mouth wide open, shocked that you can take him. "oh my- baby, taking me so well, you're doing so good for me baby, just a little bit more okay? you can take it."

praise

he needs validation. hearing you say he's doing good makes him want to work harder. even if he's at his limit he'll hold it in just to keep fucking you, his priority is to make you feel good, so he loves when you reassure him "is this okay? tell me i'm doing good baby, fuck, just wanna make you feel good."

role play

i know this little freak likes when you dress up. you'd surprise him with new outfits: a nurse, a teacher, and his favorite a secretary. it gives him an excuse to put on a tie and his new glasses, and maybe just maybe, he likes the fact that he gets to be your boss, hearing you call him sir might just be the highlight of his night. "so fucking dirty, love it when your boss fills you up hm? taking you here in my office where anyone can walk in? fuck, naughty girl."

.

me when i lose my mind:

[simpjaes]

desecration. (s.j)

the one where no gods exist when you’re alone with jake sim.

minors dni !! | if you read it, reblog it. 

WORDCOUNT ― 6.4k

PAIRING ― jake sim x afab reader

GENRE ― top/dom jake sim, characters are in their twenties, sub/bratty reader, religious kink/fetish

WARNINGS― mild dub con, desecration of holy a relic, inaccurate descriptions of whatever religion this is– im not doing research for a 5k fic that’s mostly smut, sorry. 

NOTE― if you’ve read this before, it’s because I wrote it for mark lee over on my other blog [ncteez]. we wanted to make it jake, and by we i mean me. i wanted to read this as jake. sorry to religious ppl, don’t read this if you don’t wanna be railed by a hot guy wielding a cross. 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― DUB CON.  use of the words: whore, slut, for the record, the cross is not raw wood and has a smooth finish,  reader is first attempting to seduce the priest through confession lmao, she’s also just a massive whore just like me :), jake is the priest’s son, jerking off, penetration using a wooden cross, unprotected sex, spitting, choking on and/or sucking off a cross, degradation, and name-calling, he’s a godfearing man but also he likes sexual perversions, humiliation, explicitly getting fucked in a church, kind of fingering? 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake wonders why you’re always making confessions, time and time again, once a week, every single week….eagerly. Like you’re excited for your sin or something. 

Huh.

Then again, once a week his father is expected to listen to confessions from the other churchgoers, even Jake himself is expected to confess. Often he will make up sins that he has committed just to seem as though he has been learning from some sort of mistake. Never would Jake actually tell his father through a confession booth what he has done or is willing to do. He’s an adult, he can confess whatever he wants. 

You, on the other hand, you’re working his father to the bone in terms of forgiveness. 

Jake’s interest piques at the very idea of a young woman, around his age, wanting to confess so much. Did you  hurt someone? Does you hurt yourself? Did you kill someone? Or maybe you’re just caught up in a situation that makes you commit atrocities? He can’t even imagine what one person could be doing to elicit such an eager need of forgiveness so consistently. 

Always the first in the box, always with those inappropriate outfits too. 

 Jake makes his way to the back of the church to complete his duties and, of course, he isn’t surprised to see you enter the confession booth. After all, it is the start of a new week. 

Hushed whispers were echoing through the large space and only now does he realize that you almost always confess when the church is nearly empty. You must not be unaware of his presence at all, unaware that he is the son of the priest that you spill your sins to, and unaware that he can absolutely hear you when he walks closer.

He isn’t entirely sure why he is listening. The walls of this church echo any and every sound, and to be fair, the only reason his interest is piqued is because his father was silent from the moment you had entered the booth. All he heard was you. You didn’t seem to start the confession off in a proper manner either, so yeah, maybe it caught him off guard too.

His ears make attempts to adjust to the words coming from the booth, but your voice is coming out in a tone that he has never used himself when seeking salvation. Minutes pass and he still hasn’t heard his father speak a word back to you, not to encourage you, not to stop you. It’s just you, addressing dreams, visions, wants, and needs. 

Certainly not confession. In fact, you’re actively sinning, attempting to seduce. 

“I woke up shaking, Father. What should I do?” 

Jake notes how quiet his father is still, despite you asking him what to do about the dream. His face sours when you continue to speak, this time in a slightly louder tone. 

“I just can’t help myself sometimes, I–”

It’s not that it’s intentional, really, it isn’t. If anything at all, Jake is incredibly disgusted by your attempts to dirty talk during a confession. Disgusted that you’d do such a thing, and…maybe intrigued by what you may have said that he wasn’t quite able to catch before. He quietly moves to the other side of the booth, the side where you seem to be spouting off all sorts of things, and he raises his head to listen a bit more. 

“You were big, you know? I can’t get thoughts of you out of my head. Have you ever touched a woman, Father?”

Jake leans in further, his body reacting more than his disgust. Unfortunately, his length growing in his pants ceases the moment his father cuts you off. 

“Enough.” His father finally stops you from abusing the booth, from abusing him.

Not another word is spoken and Jake does his best to back away quickly and quietly as you exit the booth. Of course, he’s acting as though he is sweeping a corner when he turns to look at you. Eye contact is made and he can feel an intense rush of heat spread across his cheeks.

Ah, so you’re a whore.

His father stays inside of the booth for a long, drawn out, three or so minutes before exiting and all Jake can think about is if you walked out of the church soaked and warm between your legs. It’s not even that Jake is into sinning. He isn’t. His entire life was built around this church, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a man. He has needs just like you do, apparently.

Never would he get what he needs from a woman as dirty as yourself, though, it doesn’t stop him from thinking about it and how your voice sounds when you were actively trying to fuck his dad.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You’re disgusting.” Jake narrows his eyes at you when you pass by, spitting the words at you with a grimace. 

“Excuse me?” You ask, stopping in your tracks and looking back at him just as harshly. You didn’t provoke him to speak to you at all, let alone fucking insult you? 

“You think I can’t hear the way you speak to my dad during your little “confessions”?” He takes a step forward as he whispers at you, air quoting the word confession with a roll of his eyes.. “You really think he’s just going to take you up on the offer?” 

Narrowing your own eyes, you step closer to Jake to stop anyone else from hearing his little tantrum. 

“Wanna tell me why he always listens to my “confessions” then?” You question back, mimicking the air quotes and smirking as you walk away from him, not even letting him answer.

Jake watches as you leave, upset that he didn’t get a rise out of you at all and instead was offered a genuine question that sits in his mind. Why does his father allow you to make a confession after confession if all it is, is an attempt to seduce him? You’re even ashamed of it, it seems, and it pisses him off to no end. 

Rushing after you, he is quick to grab at your dress and pull you back.

“Might as well just show up naked with the way you act around here,” He starts with a bite in his tone, dragging you off, down the hall and into a side room that usually remains empty. 

He intends to put a stop to this because he’s heard several more of your confessions by his own will and learns that, apparently, your only sin is being a fucking slut. 

“You have no place here.” He adds as he closes the door behind the two of you. Unintentionally locking you into a space that he’s directly saying you don’t belong in.

“Acting like you don’t think about fucking. Hah. We both know I’m not the only one,” You laugh, walking across the room with a shrug. It’s not the first time you’ve been reprimanded in a church, and it probably won’t be the last. “Besides, your dad probably thinks about me late at night after tucking your grown ass into bed like a child.” 

Jake narrows his eyes even more at you.

“Bet that pisses you off.”

“You’re ridiculous to think he would even want someone like you.” Jake scoffs harshly at you, gut bubbling with annoyance. “To think about sex this often too? I can’t imagine anyone would want to touch such a slut.”

You watch him walk towards you, with his perfectly tucked shirt and his darkened and angry eyes. Being alone with him doesn’t help his argument though because, in all fairness, he’s just as hot, if not hotter than his father. 

“What about you then?” You ask, leaning against one of the shelves in the room, running your hand up your legs, and hiking your dress up a couple of inches. 

“Your dad with his lingering eyes won’t admit to having ever touched a woman. Yet here you are.” You call out the priest’s lie with a snide chuckle before continuing. Fingers massaging your own fleshy thighs, watching the way Jake struggles with his own lingering eyes. “What about you? You ever fuck anyone?”

Jake grimaces, wrinkling his nose as he watches you. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” He questions, stomping over to you and pushing your dress back down below your knees.

“Oh!” You laugh, ticking your tongue at him and tilting your head. “You said a bad word. Aren’t you going to ask for forgiveness?”

He stares at you for a few seconds, being face to face with a woman that seems so desperate for any touch has his heart racing. He’s trying to call you out, not turn you on.

“Can’t you act decent? I barely know you and you’re flaunting yourself at me.” Jake bellows, stumbling back from you and examining the way your body is relaxed.

 You really seem to be enjoying this. 

“You’re the one who pulled me in here. Was it really to argue with me, or were you trying to get to me before Father does?”

Thinking for a moment, Jake realizes he’s the reason this is happening. He could have just let you leave like everyone else, after all, you were attempting to go home. Here he is though, and there you are. 

“He would never.” Jake laughs, mocking your attempts to pretend his father would be interested in you. 

“And again, what about you?” You shoot back instantaneously, watching the way his words get caught in his throat. 

He’s a weak man, truly, because the very thought of what’s under your dress, the very idea that you’re so willing, fogs his brain to the point of almost malfunctioning. It would be so fucking easy if he wanted to. 

No one would even know. 

Before you even know it, you can feel the air in the room change as he storms closer to you and rips your dress upwards to your waist. Instantly, he’s shoving his hand straight between your legs. 

A small yelp leaves your throat followed by a laugh. Perfect. 

“I knew it.” You giggle,  bumping your head a bit against the shelf at the force of his movement. You can feel the way his palm cups your core and presses in harshly through his silent breaths. “I fucking knew you were dirty.”

“Stop,” Jake demands, bringing his other hand to cover your mouth. “Stop talking.” He continues, already pulling his hand from your core and second-guessing himself. 

“If you want it so bad, I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up.” 

You nod with a smile against his palm, breathing in when he pulls it back and trusts your ability to stay quiet. He’s staring directly into your eyes as if he’s threatening you. As if he will stop if you make a single peep. A promise that he will probably get you banned from the church if anyone were to find out what’s happening in this room right now.  At his darkened gaze, you poke your tongue out, licking his palm and watching him pull back in aroused shock at how unashamed you are regarding your arousal. But, you do stay true to your work and remain quiet once his eyes trail down. 

He looks at you as if you’re some sort of monstrous entity, and for him at this moment, you probably are. But even with that, you see what’s growing in his pants before he lowers himself onto the floor. Positioning his face right in front of your clothed pussy. 

What a dirty, dirty boy.

Jake can see the wet stain of your panties and all he can do is roll his eyes. 

“You’re insane.” He laughs, eyes darting up to your face, looking at you like he wants to shame you. “Getting so messy in such a place, all for men who don’t fucking want you?” 

You nod, wiggling your hips at him in an attempt to entice his lips to attach there. But he doesn’t. He just stands right back up to his feet and takes a step backwards. 

“I bet if I left you here, you’d chase after me.” He mocks. “I bet you think I’m gonna stick it in you, don’t you?”

Proudly, you smile with a nod. Of course he's going to stick it in. You can see how hard he’s gotten. Sin or not, you know when a man wants to fuck you. Jake won’t be able to resist sooner or later, son of the priest or not. 

“Wow,” He laughs quietly, shaking his head at you as he reaches behind a podium and pulls out a large, lacquered wooden cross. “You really are stupid.”

Great, you think as your face falls. He’s definitely about to start preaching to you with that stupid fucking cross. Maybe he will even attempt to perform an exorcism to expel the horny demons out of you.

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes, standing yourself up straight from against the shelf and patting your dress back down into position. “Don’t start this shit.” You’re already preparing to walk out without looking twice at him, but he laughs right back at you.

“You think you know everything.” He chuckles, walking towards the door and locking it. He stands in front of it now, crossing his arms and staring at you. 

“Don’t I?” You ask, eyeing the way he presents himself to you right now. 

“Did I not just imply that I wouldn’t use my cock on you?” He questions, twitching in his pants at the way you stand before him, much smaller in energy now. 

He can tell you’re still trying to act brave, and it delights him to see the realization spread across that pretty, silent mouth. 

Oh. Oh. 

“You’re going to–?” You swallow hard, realizing that of all the sins you could commit, the implication of being penetrated with a cross, solely so this man doesn’t have to fuck a whore isn’t one you ever thought of. 

This room doesn’t even feel like part of a church now as he holds the cross with more reason than praying. 

“Yeah,” He assures you. “I am.” Stepping forward toward you and looming down at your face. “Now get on the desk.” 

You don’t know why, but your body acts on instinct for him. Immediately walking to the desk and propping yourself onto it. 

“Take off your clothes.” He demands again, watching you intently as he stays in place, rubbing the long end of the cross much like he’d like to do for himself right now. 

God, watching such a stubborn woman do everything he says is…well, it’s new for him and it ignites a new type of arousal within him. 

And you watch him back as you begin to slip your dress from your shoulders, lifting your ass so that you can push it down and onto the floor. 

“Oh, now you wanna act shy?” He mocks, walking towards you as you attempt to tug at your panties. “And keep those on. No one wants to see that.”

Goddamn, you don’t even have the decency to wear a bra to service? Lucky for him though, your breasts are enough to drive him past the point of return. There’s no thought, fear, or prayer in his head right now as you reveal yourself to him. Going as far as trying to flash your pussy? Oh, he could laugh. 

You stay quiet, doing as you’re told and watching the way he examines you. He must feel so in control right now and you’re happy to let him, but you can see him falling apart behind his eyes. 

His cock is incredibly obvious beneath his nice dress pants, but you wouldn’t dare reach out to touch him, not yet at least. You’ll let him have his fun, despite the slight nervousness within you regarding that cross.

“Open your mouth.” He says, dragging the cross against your nipples and onto your chin. “Suck it.”

You almost shake your head at him. Such a hard wood sliding down your throat would surely hurt. It’ll bruise, it’ll fucking suffocate you.

Jake doesn’t seem to care about any of that though, because all he does in response to your widened and fear-stricken eyes is press the wood against your lips with a face of concentration. 

You purse your lips, muffling a displeased grunt at his acts.

“You scared?” He smiles first, pulling the cross away and now tracing his fingers along your lips before prying them inside and hooking your mouth open. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t know how to suck.”

You relent this time, feeling the cold and smooth tip of the cross enter past your lips when he resumes his previous assault. It’s not that you are against doing it, you just…haven’t done it before.

 You’re not exactly sure of how to respect a holy relic such as this one when you’re expected to choke on it. 

“That’s it.” Jake coos, pressing the cross further into your mouth. “Open up real wide.” 

You close your eyes at his voice, licking the smoothed object with an intensity you didn’t know you had. After all, it’s been so long since you’ve been intimate with a person, hence the constant wet dreams about your priest. This is somehow, incredibly hot to you. To have his son fucking your mouth, regardless of what object he’s using to do it. 

Still, it does hurt. The intricate edges of the cross bruises each time it hits the clenching walls of your throat and mouth, but Jake seems to like the sound of you choking and sobbing around it. After all, he just continues to press the cross further and further in. Probably relishing in the way you try to swallow around it and relax your throat. 

His eyes are so focused, seeing how much of it you can take and only imagining how good it would feel if it were his cock choking you right now. Despite your sputtering and crying eyes, you’re taking it so well. 

Yeah, you’ve definitely done this before. Probably swallowed up some guy’s cum and begged for more despite still having a cock wedged in your throat. How lucky for them to have someone so desperate to be gagged. 

“You’re filthy for doing this, you know that?” He laughs at your pain and how you don’t try to pull at his pushing hand, tipping the cross just a bit so that its hardened wood hits your throat in a way that hurts a bit too much.

You cough around it, only now pushing his hand back in protest. The tears are pouring from your eyes when the cross slides out of your mouth, and all you can do is blink up at him as you try to regain your breath. 

Half expecting him to immediately hold your head in place just to shove the cross back in, Jake pulls back instead, tilting his head down to look at your panties. 

Your legs instinctively cross to hide your arousal, but he prys your legs open regardless, forcing you to act as the whore you so wanted to be. For his father, for him, for anyone who would be willing, honestly. 

You’ve gotten wetter. 

“You’re so gross, I can’t believe you get off to this–” He laughs, feeling his cock begin to fucking ache. “You can take more, then.” 

No, no. You don’t want to keep sucking it, but your mouth opens anyway. Too turned on by the idea of seeing Jake’s reaction to watching you be so dirty, so blasphemous. 

The way he moans when you open your mouth willingly this time is…well, he looks fucking good. He sounds even better. 

You take it into your mouth without so much as a second thought this time, allowing him to slide the cross back and forth against your tongue and into your throat. You willingly swallow around the harsh edges, tears falling all the while, of course.  

You’re gagging so softly around it, he’s almost jealous over how you wanted his dad before you wanted him. Surely no one would do this for you, right? His father would never be with such a horny, needy, and dirty woman. 

Jake though….shamefully, is very into it. 

Into you, rather.

When he pulls it out this time, your saliva coats the cross in a way that nearly breaks his brain. Intensely, he stares at your lips, slack and waiting for him to continue his abuse. God, he’s so jealous. To think you would do this with someone else? With anyone? Anything? 

It turns him on beyond belief, but feeling jealous of the fucking cross isn’t exactly something Jake wants to admit. His father? Sure, whatever. But a relic he’s prayed to his whole life? Growing resentful of it just because you take it down your pretty and bruised throat? 

No. 

Jake shifts now, unable to satiate the arousal within him without grabbing your hand and forcing you to grope his hidden cock. So hard, so fucking hard, he nearly lets out his own sob at the euphoric touch when he actually does it. 

You’re a bit shocked that he’s letting you touch him, but you take the opportunity and run with it. You press your palm against him without any amount of shame, and all you can do is watch as he hangs his head, the saliva coated cross still gripped in his other hand. 

“Bet you wanted to fuck my mouth.” You croak out, your voice sounding just as raw at your throat. “Bet you wanted me to take all of it and beg for your cum.” 

His head shoots up in response to that as he grabs your face harshly, bucking against your hand at the same time. “Stop talking.” He seethes, releasing your face and inserting his fingers into your mouth instead. “Stick your tongue out.”

You do as he says, feeling his heavy cock twitching against your palm with each press. 

Jake seems like an expert at this, you aren’t sure, but when he presses your tongue down with his fingers to open your throat up, he spits into your mouth so easily that you have no choice but to swallow it.

Well, okay. He could probably get away with doing that a few more times if he wanted to.

You moan when you swallow, lending him a dopey smile that shocks him. You weren’t supposed to like that in his eyes, but when you grab his cock in response rather than just palm at it, he can’t help but moan back at you. 

His fingers continue to hold your tongue down as you jerk him off over his pants, and his hips stutter all the while until he loses all composure. Within a second, he stalks even closer, slamming both hands against the desk on either side of you and leaning forward to pin you there.

And then he grinds forward against your weak hand, pinned between him and the edge of the desk. 

Yet still, he’s gripping that fucking cross as he pins you here.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, I can see it.” He croaks, not even allowing you to offer him a nod before he’s got his lips attached to yours and he’s licking into your mouth. It feels impossibly better than that cross pressing against the back of your throat but you swallow his kiss just as easily. 

His hips continue to grind as he licks into your mouth like a man who doesn’t know how to kiss at all. So rough and messy with it, groaning more and more before he’s nearly a panting mess before you. He pulls back from the kiss only for a moment to stare at you, eye contact more fierce than it was before. 

“I think you’re the one who wants to fuck me.” You manage to slip out before he can silence you again, and his eyes narrow instantly. 

More than anything, that’s what he wants to do to you. He wants to shut you up in as many ways possible right now, and he definitely wants fucking you to be one of those ways. But he can’t, and he won't. 

“Hah–you’d love that.” He laughs, reaching his empty hand between the two of you to press his pants down enough to let his cock spring free. 

You can’t even get a good look at it, because he’s instantly grabbing himself and fucking his fist before looking back up at you. 

“Go on, look.” He says, leaning a bit so that you can watch him jerk off in full view now. “Bet you’d beg for it if I told you to.”

“Please?” You instantly let out, eyes staring at the angry head of his cock leaking and pulsing.

“I didn’t say to actually beg–” He groans, halting his hand and instead, thrusting his hips into the tightly formed hole he’s created. “I’m not going to fuck you.” He laughs again, now pulling the cross back and into your view with a wicked smirk. 

Of course. The cross. Well, at least you’re going to be fucked with something right?

 You eye the piece of wood and then go back to watching him. You’re not sure what it is about this situation but it feels like your body is on fire. Maybe it’s because hell is right beneath you, just a floorboard away from what the two of you have gotten yourselves into behind this locked door.

“Oh?” He halts his hips and licks his lips. “You actually want me to fuck you with this?”

You nod frantically, spreading your legs in front of him and showing off how large the spot on your panties has grown since he last inspected it. You watch as his eyes practically burn a hole through your pussy.

Only then does he release his own cock and look back into your eyes. More seriously this time when reality and guilt clicks in his head. 

“You are aware of what we are about to do, right?” His confidence falters blatantly as he glances at the cross. “Like, if you ever tell my dad about this, I will be disowned.” 

“You think I’d snitch on you?” You roll your eyes, body nearly shaking to get fucked. God, why does he have to stop now?

“Well, since you’re so inclined to confess every fucking day–”

“Jake, you literally just fucked my throat with it.” You deadpan, hooking your legs around him to pull him close enough to feel his cock hit your wet panties. “You’re the dirtiest one here, I’m not going to give that up just to see you get disowned.” 

He laughs at you for that. Because yeah, maybe he is. Maybe he’s the one who shouldn’t be in church, and maybe he’s the one who should have been confessing this whole time. Never in his life has he ever done this, or so much as imagined doing it, it’s so perverse. So, wrong. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what’s attractive about it. 

For some reason, his cock jumps when you say you’re not giving him up because he’s dirty. 

“And–” You soften your voice, trying to lure him. “You don’t have to use the cross, you know.” 

“No.” He barks out, pulling his hips back and pressing the cross against you instead. “Now, keep your legs open.” 

He gets right back into it without a second thought. He doesn’t care what he’s doing or what the repercussions of doing this will be. It’s not like he wasn’t going to hell before any of this, not based on the fantasies he’s had anyway.

Jake hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down your legs harshly, to the point that they’re stretching so far that it feels like they could cut through your skin. He backs away for a moment upon seeing you grimace at that, allowing you to slip them down your legs before positioning himself back between them.

“I’m dirty?” He says, looking at your pussy and the way it clenches around absolutely nothing. He sees the slick seeping out of you already, and it’s not only pathetic but so fucking desperate of you. “Fucking look at that.”

You smile at it, knowing that he’s degrading you but absolutely loving the view if his focused eyes are anything to go by.

Before the cross, he experimentally traces his fingers along your folds until he gets to your hole, and without hesitation, he slips one of them in. The grip of your walls alone could probably send him over the edge if he were to make a last-minute change and shove his cock into you, but he holds back. Instead, he traces the cross against you in the same way he did with his fingers, slowly inserting it alongside his digit. 

Pulling back, Jake watches your face as the cross opens you up, probably dragging against your walls uncomfortably as a reminder of the ultimate sin you’re committing with him right now. 

When your face doesn’t contort into that of pain, he pulls his finger out of you and places his hand back on his cock. Still staring at your face, he fucks the cross in and out of you. Relishing in the sound of how wet you are for this, and for him to give it to you.

 He does this until, finally, you moan.

Upon that little whimper of a moan, Jake is sent into a different headspace. One that quickens his pace with the object inside of you, one that tightens the grip on himself. 

Now, oh now, he’s playing for fun. He presses it in and then pulls it all the way out just to see your pussy beg for more. Holding back a moan over how fucking hot it is to see, he opts to coo out at you.

“Bet it would feel so good.” He breathes, trying to ignore the shiver that shoots through his body at the way you yearn for it. “Could shove my cock right in, you’d just take it, wouldn’t you?” 

Before you can answer, he’s thrusting the relic right back into you. In, out, in, out. Deeper, harder, fucking faster. And he offers the same for himself, tightening his fist, nearly abusing his own cock at the sight of your swollen hole swallow up the wood. Really, he makes a point to fuck himself just to imagine it’s you that’s squeezing him.  

If he thinks hard enough, it really is almost like he’s the one fucking you. 

He keeps this up for a few minutes, up until your legs are shaking around him and you begin to reach out with your hands. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s incredibly fucking horny right now, he’d probably be rushing for the altar to save you from whatever demon is possessing you.

 But, he knows that this is no demon, this is all his own doing. He’s loving it. Every single bit of this situation is being burned into his memory, and when your legs shake, it only urges him to fuck the object into you harder.

You whimper out strings of nonsense, almost begging for a release from this grasp he is holding over you both physically and mentally, but he doesn’t relent. Your pathetic cunt is being pounded by an object that should have you crying in fear, but instead, you’re so close to release you can only beg for more, more, fucking more. 

And god, he keeps giving it to you.

In an attempt to open your eyes, you feel dizzy with lust. Your hips buck up against the object with intent, and you can’t stop watching him. 

“Goddamn.” Jake stutters a sin, watching you fuck yourself against the holy relic. Thankful to rest his arm and be able to just…watch.

And oh, he’s watching and intensely imagining that it’s you on him. He can’t stop thinking about how fucking warm you must be, how tight, how sinfully delicious your pussy must be for you to be acting like this. And that thought is what forces him to lose it.

You were so focused, on the verge of your orgasm when you feel him practically tear the cross out of you, dropping it to the floor before – oh fuck.

You feel him. Something bigger, something thicker ramming into you. He’s prying you open more than he did previously, already pumping in and out at a frantic speed. Instantly, you cling onto him with a bruising grip, listening to his shameless moans as he realizes the lack of control he has over his own body or thoughts. 

Jake practically falls over you in euphoria as you cling, forcing you to fall back against the desk as he relentlessly plunges his hips. His breath is heavy against your neck as he loses himself, and all you can do is thank the same god you just disrespected for this cock that’s abusing your hole in all of the right ways.

“I can’t–” He groans out against your ear, his hips not stopping their relentless assault. “You’re so fucking dirty.” He insults, pushing you up the desk with each thrust. “So good.”

You can barely make a sound from the force behind his hips, only small yelps leaving your throat each time he slams in. And fuck, you want nothing more than to rub your clit right now. You could cum all over him, you could really make him feel good. 

And as if your prayers are answered, Jake apparently knows exactly how to pleasure a woman. Hm, curious. He knows how to do it fucking well too, as you feel his fingers rub against the swollen nub in the exact same way you would right now. Painful, intense.

The fact that he wants you to cum is delicious.

Your orgasm hits you almost instantly, pussy sucking in him each time he goes to thrust, and the sounds coming from your throat could be considered demonic by some, but he swallows them up with ease when he notes that you’re cumming all over him. 

Jake licks into your mouth, soothing you with dirty words when he pulls back to breathe. 

“You should see yourself–” He pants out, sticking his tongue out to lick against your lip. “Getting me all messy too?” He says again through a moan. “You’re beautiful.” He adds like a period at the end of a sentence. 

That alone makes you feel…different. In fact, it prolongs your orgasm far past sensitivity when he continues to thrust into you. You can’t tell if he said that because he’s close, or if it’s because he meant it. 

Quite frankly, you could give less of a fuck if he meant it. 

Jake stutters his hips when you lift your head just slightly, gripping his hair and skewing his head to the side so that you can whisper into his ear. 

“Want me to beg for your cum?” You whisper with a shaking voice. “You’d love that too, wouldn’t you? I know I would.”

His eyes squeeze shut as he aggressively turns his head and, once again, pries your mouth open with his tongue. A bruising kiss follows as he fucks his last few thrusts into you, doing just as you implied he should.

He pumps his cum into you relentlessly, thankful that it’s not all over his pants and entirely milked into that sinful cunt of yours. Thankful that you also got off around him instead of that forgotten cross on the floor. 

He wants nothing more than to remind you time and time again who got to you first. It was him, not his father. 

You smile at him when he pulls back out of breath, examining his pants before stuffing his sensitive cock back into them and reaching down for the cross.

“If you ever fucking tell my dad about this–” He seethes out of breath, trying to pretend that he can regain composure so soon after fucking you the way he just did. Still, he narrows his eyes at you much as he had done before. 

“Go on.” You say, voice shaking as you try to grasp back onto reality from whatever world his cock had sent you into. 

Jake is at a loss for words, because, what could he possibly do about it if you were to tell? He looks at you, still spread out against the desk, dress crumpled, his cum seeping out of you in a messy show of how much of an absolute whore he forced you to be.

“Just, don’t tell him.” He finally says, averting his eyes from you and looking at the cross in his hand. 

“Do you feel bad already?” You ask out, finally lifting to get off of the desk.

“Don’t you?” 

You shake your head, struggling to stand as the seething pain of having a wooden cross stuck into you shoots through your body. “Not really.” You try to laugh, but you wince instead.

“Yeah, I figured you’d probably be hurting after all of that.” He finally says in a somewhat apologetic tone, walking up to you with a soothing hand.

You’re a little shocked by his kindness. 

“Yeah, a little.” You laugh it off though because, at the moment, it felt good. You wouldn’t have wanted it any other way despite how blasphemous the act was.  

“Oh.” Jake seems sorrowful in his tone, but his gaze doesn't leave you. “I- um, I don’t know how to make it like, not hurt?” He scratches the back of his head.

In your attempt to put your dress back on, you do note that the pain inside of you isn’t unfamiliar. You’d been fucked hard before, but that was a long time ago. You missed this feeling, realizing that it was exactly what you think you needed. 

“It’ll pass.” You assure him, taking a deep breath and trying to stumble your way to the door. “I guess I’ll see you later, then?” 

Jake dips his head with a small nod, feeling guilty for what he’s done. Not because of the cross, not because of the sin, but because he’s unsure of how to pretend like he wouldn’t want to do it again.

[lylahammar]

People always talk about how Laios is a character who gives fat vibes even if he isn't technically fat in canon which is very true, and I have some thoughts on that!! (this will be a long post lol sorry)

There's a lot of material in the dunmeshi extras that show how fatness factors into dungeon exploration, which shows that only the most skilled adventurers are able to keep weight on while in the dungeon (thank you to @savaralyn2 for the translations! links to the individual posts these panels come from are added on the pics):

So we know, at the very least, that most of the characters are kept thinner than they would be naturally through the strain of death/revivification in the main dungeon. We also see that Laios has some fat on him, which through the text means that he's skilled enough to at least keep some of his weight (which makes sense, he doesn't die very often in canon).

(to be clear this ^ doesn't constitute as "fat," he is built as fuck here he just has some fat on his body which shows his prowess as a fighter in this universe) HOWEVER my personal little pet theory/headcanon is that Laios actually has a difficult relationship with food! I know that doesn't make much sense at first since he's shown to eat a lot in canon, but hear me out. In pre-canon, before he reunited with Falin, he's shown to be extremely gaunt:

But after partnering up with Falin, he gains weight and looks much more healthy very quickly. Part of this is definitely because of his unstable living situation/mental illness, but he and Falin still live in very poor conditions after this and he still manages to gain weight/get healthier, so I believe it's mainly due to her making sure he eats enough. We also know that Laios is. most certainly autistic. Nobody argue with me on that it's like pretty much widely accepted as canon for a lot of reasons lmao. So my theory is that he's actually food sensitive. He's shown to not really care about food that isn't monster-related. Even when he eats regular food, he's usually imagining it being a monster instead.

He has never eaten squid before, which is totally normal, but could also support my theory in a way :P it being a monster still can't save it from the autistic sensory bad experience in this case, though.

So I think that his adventurous eating during the course of the story isn't because he's actually an adventurous eater normally, it's purely because of his special interest (monsters, duh). During his journey to recover Falin, he's able to build up a healthier relationship with food through Senshi's guidance and the involvement of his special interest.

By the end of the story, after he's retired from dungeon exploration and living in comfort/safety, and with his newly healthy diet, he's finally able to gain a lot more weight. Imo, his is a story of someone who's naturally meant to be fat, but is only able to reach that point when in a stable and healthy environment.

(for the record I know he's not that fat in this post canon comic, but this is only a year and a bit after the end of the story so there's still time lol)

alright I'm goin back to drawing now just had to infodump for a minute ✌️ keep it sleazy

[intheholler]

the appalachian murder ballad <3 one of the most interesting elements of americana and american folk, imo!

my wife recently gave me A Look when i had one playing in the car and she was like, "why do all of these old folk songs talk about killing people lmao" and i realized i wanted to Talk About It at length.

nerd shit under the cut, and it's long. y'all been warned

so, as y'all probably know, a lot of appalachian folk music grew its roots in scottish folk (and then was heavily influenced by Black folks once it arrived here, but that's a post for another time).

they existed, as most folk music does, to deliver a narrative--to pass on a story orally, especially in communities where literacy was not widespread. their whole purpose was to get the news out there about current events, and everyone loves a good murder mystery!

as an aside, i saw someone liken the murder ballad to a ye olde true crime podcast and tbh, yeah lol.

the "original" murder ballads started back across the pond as news stories printed on broadsheets and penned in such a way that it was easy to put to melody.

they were meant to be passed on and keep the people informed about the goings-on in town. i imagine that because these songs were left up to their original orators to get them going, this would be why we have sooo many variations of old folk songs.

naturally then, almost always, they were based on real events, either sung from an outside perspective, from the killer's perspective and in some cases, from the victim's. of course, like most things from days of yore, they reek of social dogshit. the particular flavor of dogshit of the OG murder ballad was misogyny.

so, the murder ballad came over when the english and scots-irish settlers did. in fact, a lot of the current murder ballads are still telling stories from centuries ago, and, as is the way of folk, getting rewritten and given new names and melodies and evolving into the modern recordings we hear today.

305 such scottish and english ballads were noted and collected into what is famously known as the Child Ballads collected by a professor named francis james child in the 19th century. they have been reshaped and covered and recorded a million and one times, as is the folk way.

while newer ones continued to largely fit the formula of retelling real events and murder trials (such as one of my favorite ones, little sadie, about a murderer getting chased through the carolinas to have justice handed down), they also evolved into sometimes fictional, (often unfortunately misogynistic) cautionary tales.

perhaps the most famous examples of these are omie wise and pretty polly where the woman's death almost feels justified as if it's her fault (big shocker).

but i digress. in this way, the evolution of the murder ballad came to serve a similar purpose as the spooky legends of appalachia did/do now.

(why do we have those urban legends and oral traditions warning yall out of the woods? to keep babies from gettin lost n dying in them. i know it's a fun tiktok trend rn to tell tale of spooky scary woods like there's really more haints out here than there are anywhere else, but that's a rant for another time too ain't it)

so, the aforementioned little sadie (also known as "bad lee brown" in some cases) was first recorded in the 1920s. i'm also plugging my favorite female-vocaist cover of it there because it's superior when a woman does it, sorry.

it is a pretty straightforward murder ballad in its content--in the original version, the guy kills a woman, a stranger or his girlfriend sometimes depending on who is covering it.

but instead of it being a cautionary 'be careful and don't get pregnant or it's your fault' tale like omie wise and pretty polly, the guy doesn't get away with it, and he's not portrayed as sympathetic like the murderer is in so many ballads.

a few decades after, women started saying fuck you and writing their own murder ballads.

in the 40s, the femme fatale trope was in full swing with women flipping the script and killing their male lovers for slights against them instead.

men began to enter the "find out" phase in these songs and paid up for being abusive partners. women regained their agency and humanity by actually giving themselves an active voice instead of just being essentially 'fridged in the ballads of old.

her majesty dolly parton even covered plenty of old ballads herself but then went on to write the bridge, telling the pregnant-woman-in-the-murder-ballad's side of things for once. love her.

as a listener, i realized that i personally prefer these modern covers of appalachian murder ballads sung by women-led acts like dolly and gillian welch and even the super-recent crooked still especially, because there is a sense of reclamation, subverting its roots by giving it a woman's voice instead.

meaning that, like a lot else from the problematic past, the appalachian murder ballad is something to be enjoyed with critical ears. violence against women is an evergreen issue, of course, and you're going to encounter a lot of that in this branch of historical music.

but with folk songs, and especially the murder ballad, being such a foundational element of appalachian history and culture and fitting squarely into the appalachian gothic, i still find them important and so, so interesting

i do feel it's worth mentioning that there are "tamer" ones. with traditional and modern murder ballads alike, some of them are just for "fun," like a murder mystery novel is enjoyable to read; not all have a message or retell a historical trial.

(for instance, i'd even argue ultra-modern, popular americana songs like hell's comin' with me is a contemporary americana murder ballad--being sung by a male vocalist and having evolved from being at the expense of a woman to instead being directed at a harmful and corrupt church. that kind of thing)

in short: it continues to evolve, and i continue to eat that shit up.

anyway, to leave off, lemme share with yall my personal favorite murder ballad which fits squarely into murder mystery/horror novel territory imo.

it's the 10th child ballad and was originally known as "the twa sisters." it's been covered to hell n back and named and renamed.

but! if you listen to any flavor of americana, chances are high you already know it; popular names are "the dreadful wind and rain" and sometimes just "wind and rain."

in it, a jealous older sister pushes her other sister into a river (or stream, or sea, depending on who's covering it) over a dumbass man. the little sister's body floats away and a fiddle maker come upon her and took parts of her body to make a fiddle of his own. the only song the new fiddle plays is the tale about how it came to be, and it is the same song you have been listening to until then.

how's that for genuinely spooky-scary appalachia, y'all?