What people who do reverse age gap AU fail to take into consideration is that Gerran has babyface so he always looks wayyy younger than he is, like most people think he's in his early twenty's but he's 35 , so an older Whitaker would actually be just about the same but grey hair and a bit of crowsfeet , young Robby would see him and think "oh poor guy he's greying prematurely from stress or genetics" also mistake him for a senior student then be shocked when Whitaker reveals that he's actually 50 and his attending (quick edit I threw together for visual:
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warnings: reader is older than Jake, reverse age gap, this is pure SMUT 18+!, porn without a plot tbh, subby jake, oral sex (m. & f rec), blowjob, face riding, begging, unprotected sex, riding jake, single use of the word "mommy", more begging, crying, orgasm denial, overstimulation, light/insinuation of aftercare, lemme know if I missed any!
a/n: this is a beautiful combination of this request + some headcanons from a group chat + help from my dear friend Liv! i am kinda excited but nervous about this one, idk if i've ever done subby jake before but i love him.
Masterlist
You knew better.
He's younger, only a few years, but enough to make you want to clutch your pearls.
You're not uninterested. Just… almost hesitant. He's probably the most handsome thing you've ever seen. And confident in a way that borders cocky, but isn't.
You knew better than to go to the bar to see him. You knew it could end one of two ways. You'd either end up drunk and making an ass out of yourself, or you'd end up taking him home.
But it didn't stop you.
And now here you were, standing outside the bar, leaning against the brick wall waiting on your Uber. He's a few feet away, a lit cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers as he watches you.
You eye him for a moment, looking away when you speak, “Those are bad for you, Jake.”
You can hear the grin in his voice, “A lot of things are bad for me, sweetheart.”
You huff a laugh, turning your head back to him, “You'll learn one day.”
He steps closer, closing the distance, still not touching you, “Are you gonna teach me?” He asks, his voice lowering, rasping sweetly as it curls into your ears.
You take a moment to run your eyes over him, slow and deliberate, like your heart wasn't pounding out of your chest, “Depends,” you say softly, “Are you a good learner?”
He looks almost pained, his tongue running over his lips, “I can be. For you.”
Your only response is a smile, your eyes moving away when the car pulls up. He takes a deep breath, and you smile to yourself when you hear his shaky exhale.
—
It doesn't take long for you to end up kissing him.
He asked first, his hands steady as he held your face. Gentle, almost unsure, but experienced and knowing.
He has you against the wall, like holding you there is the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
You pull back, your hands falling to his belt, and his eyes widen almost imperceptibly. You peck a single kiss to the corner of his mouth, “May I?” You ask softly, your eyes half-lidded as you bite at your lip. His eyes are on your mouth as he nods, allowing you to move him backward. You unbuckle his belt as you walk him to the couch, pushing his chest lightly when you reach it.
He sits without a second thought, his pupils blown as he takes uneven breaths through his parted lips. You lower to your knees, unbuttoning his jeans before you tap his thigh, “Lift your hips, baby.”
He lets out a quiet sound through tightened lips, lifting his hips for you to tug his jeans down. He isn't wearing any underwear, something you're grateful for as you grin up at him, “Eager, are we?”
He nods, cheeks flushing, “Yeah,” he says, soft and quiet. You wrap your fingers around his length, taking a selfish moment to stare at him.
“Bigger than I expected,” you say, leaning in and pressing a single kiss to the tip. He hums, his fingers tightening into his thighs. You tilt your head, licking a thick stripe from the base of him, slowly, until you reach the head, where you lightly flick your tongue.
“Fuck,” he breathes, his fingers twitching.
His head falls back when you wrap your lips around him, lolling your tongue along the ridges and curve of him.
You hold him in your mouth, just the head, teasing him slowly with your tongue for a bit, eyes raking over his heaving chest. You can see the sweat beading along his hairline, his throat bobbing as he swallows.
“Please,” he whispers, letting his head fall to look at you once more.
You pull off of him, stroking him slowly in your fist, “Please what, Jakey?” You ask, voice deceptively sweet.
“Put me in your mouth,” he says, hips bucking lightly.
“I was,” you say, a teasing tilt to your tone.
“All the way– Fuck, all the way in,” he says, eyebrows tilted just slightly, “Please.”
You hum, leaning back in to kiss at the spongy head once more, “Begging so soon?”
“Fuck,” he says through gritted teeth, “Y/n, please.”
You smile, before you open your mouth once more, your eyes falling to his hands grabbing the couch like his life depended on it, “You wanna pull my hair, baby?”
He nods, “Yes,” he says, his voice weak.
“Make you feel like you're just a little bit in control?” You ask, grabbing his hand and moving it to your hair as he nods despondently, “Yeah? But we both know better, don't we?”
Before he can respond, you take him back into your mouth, swallowing him down until your nose brushes against the light trail of hair at his lower stomach. He mutters a curse, his fingers tightening in your hair. You hollow your cheeks as you draw back, suctioning lightly enough to make his eyes roll back as his head drops once more.
Part of you wants to stop, to pull off and make him look at you.
The other part of you loves seeing him like this.
The confident, charismatic guitar player was like putty in your hands. It made your head spin and your lower half ache. Who would've thought?
You begin to bob your head, still working your tongue as best you could around him. You had to give him credit, he was big. Probably the biggest you'd been with, and humble about it, which made it even better. And he smelled and tasted good. Clean and just absolutely pretty.
You pull off of him, moving your hand off of him as you stand.
His head jerks up, heartbreak written clearly across his face until he sees your fingers go to your own pants.
He sits up, his hands grabbing your shirt and tugging it off of you eagerly. You can't help but almost laugh, his excitement to get you naked has pushed away any hint of insecurity you might have had.
You're left in your bra and panties, gasping when he tugs you forward, his hands smoothing up your ribs before slipping behind you to the clasp of your bra. His lips attach themselves to your stomach, leaving open mouth kisses as he unhook your bra with expert fingers.
You let it fall away, your hand tangling in his hair as he nips at your heated skin. You pull him back by his hair, tracing your fingers over his lips. He kisses the pads of your fingers, and you lean in pressing a chaste kiss to his mouth.
“I love your mouth,” you whisper, fingers tracing over the heart shape of his lips once more.
His tongue peeks out, licking lightly at your fingers. “Let me taste you,” he breathes, moving his head until your fingers are pressed against his tongue. “Please,” he says muffled, before he wraps his lips around your fingers.
“You want to?” You ask, pushing your fingers just a little further in, lightly smiling when he nods, humming a pathetic sounding mm-hmm.
You nod, and his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your thighs. You step out of them, gasping when he grabs you by your hips.
It takes little effort on his part before he's laying back on the couch, and you're straddling his face, hovering over him as he settles in.
His eyes are hooded as he stares at your slick center, his tongue running along his bottom lip as he pulls you down to him.
You let out a soft sigh the second his lips touch your core. You'd never done this– never sat on someone's face– you'd always been worried about if they could breathe or what might happen, but now you're almost upset you'd been missing out.
You moan when his tongue presses against your weeping hole, and his nose nudges your clit just right. Your hand wraps around his hair, grounding yourself as he licks into you.
He hums against you, his hands at your hips moving your lower half against him. He speaks against you, sending a tingling heat through your body, “Ride my face,” he says, “C'mon.”
You nod, rocking your hips against him, your head falling back. His hand leaves your hip, and you can feel his arm move down.
You tilt your head back, watching as he wraps his hand around himself, squeezing lightly before moving up and down in time with your body.
You almost want to let him, it makes your skin prickle and your clit throb to watch him work at himself, but you reach a hand back, pulling his hand away, “No touching,” you murmur.
You trail your nails lightly up his stomach when he reluctantly moves his hand back to your hip, not without groaning against you. You grind down just a little harder, your eyes fluttering when he wraps his lips around your clit. He suckles lightly before he sticks his tongue out, holding it still as you rock your hips.
“Oh, fuck,” you moan, your movements speeding up as your orgasm builds.
He hums against you, the sound desperate. He pulls you impossibly tighter against him, and you briefly worry he can't breathe, but he's eating at you in earnest, moving you faster against his mouth, and your ending crashes into you.
You ride out your high with broken sobs, rocking against him until you can't, your body pulling away as you grow sensitive.
He continues to kiss you, mindful of your aching clit, as you recover. You swallow, your mouth dry, before you lift yourself up onto shaky limbs.
He raises up, ensuring you've got your footing, before your eyes meet. He tugs you to him once again, pulling you over him until you're straddling his waist now.
“Fuck me,” he says softly, “Please fuck me.”
You huff a laugh, raising up as you wrap a fist around him, “What if I get tired?” You ask, stroking along his length slowly.
“Then I'll fuck you,” he says quickly, “Whatever you want– I'll do it.”
You hum, angling him to press against your entrance, “Whatever I want?” You repeat, lowering until just the tip is inside of you.
He nods rapidly, his eyes blown wide as he stares at where you're greedily taking him in, “Anything.”
You sigh, lowering yourself until your backside is pressed against his thighs, completely full. His jaw is tightened, his head is resting against the couch cushion, his nostrils flaring as he tries to settle himself.
You rock your hips and his hands grabbing your waist frantically. “Don't–”
You freeze, “Are you okay?” You ask, eyes wide.
He nods, fast and certain, “I'm– I'll come,” he says, cheeks flushing as his eyes shut tight, “Just– Gimme a minute, please.”
You grin at that, “No, you won't,” you say, moving your hips despite his request, “Not until I say so.”
“Fuck– Y/n, please,” his voice breaks, sounding like music to your ears. You lift your hips, lowering back down painfully slow, your heart pounding as he lets out a pathetic whimper.
“Look at me,” you say softly. You tighten around him when he starts to shake his head, “Look at me, Jake.”
His eyes flutter open, and the sight nearly wrecks you. You thought about how he'd look like this for far too long. Since you met him, really. A few months back, when he immediately charmed you with his soft brown eyes and his crooked smile. It hits differently when it's real, not something you're imagining.
He looks ruined already, his hair plastered to his forehead, damp and unruly, his eyebrows tilted up in desperation. His lips are pretty, swollen and pink, parted as his sounds fall out freely.
You cup his face in your hands, slowly working up to a steady rhythm, “Look at you,” you coo. “So fucking pretty.” You bite your lip as the head nudges against your walls just right, “You're being such a good boy– Behaving so well for me, aren't you?”
He whines softly, his thumbs rubbing lightly over the skin of your hips.
“You've got such a nice cock, Jakey,” you say sweetly, pressing a kiss to his nose, “So fucking big,” you accentuate your words with a roll of your hips, “Maybe I should keep you, huh? Keep you as my little plaything,” you moan, your head falling back, “My little pet.”
“Yeah,” he breathes, his hands tightening on you, “Fuck– Please,” the eagerness in his voice makes you laugh quietly, “I'll make you feel so good. Please.”
You have to pretend that didn't take the breath from your lungs. “I know you will,” you say airily.
He whimpers quietly, his jaw tightening when you squeeze around him.
You can't lie to yourself, you're getting exhausted. Your thighs ache and burn, and you're tired of putting in the work, to be quite honest.
You slow to a stop, pressing your finger to his lips when you see the desperation on his face. “Fuck me, Jakey,” you demand softly, “Make me feel good, sweet boy.”
He grabs you tightly, wasting no time in fucking up into you. He leans back, pulling you against him, before pistoning his hips. It's relentless, harsh and fast and desperate, like his only goal in mind is to make you feel good.
Your eyes flutter shut, your mouth falling open as your second orgasm threatens you. “Touch me, baby,” you demand, voice soft.
He holds you with one arm around your waist, holding you in place, and his other hand immediately moves to your clit. He rubs at you with expert fingers. Quick, firm circles that make you cry out.
“Fuck, that's it,” you whine, “Make me come, Jake.”
He groans, fucking into you with reckless abandon, his fingers speeding up, “C'mon,” he pleads, “Please–”
It's almost enough. You're almost there, but it's hanging just barely out of reach. He moves just enough to where you're almost laying on him, and his mouth goes to your ear.
“Fuck– Mommy, please, let me have it,” he whispers, “Come on my cock, please. I need it so bad.”
It hits you like a freight train. No warning as you cry out, your entire body tightening as it crashes through you. You can hear him stuttering praises, cursing as he fucks you through it.
You collapse into him, your chest heaving as he slows to a stop. You take a moment to breathe, your body trembling and quivering as you recover.
His hands lightly trail over your skin, his lips kiss your hair softly.
“Can I come?” He asks quietly, “Please?”
“No,” you manage, “Not yet.”
He lets out a quiet whine, his nails digging into your skin lightly, “Please.”
“No, baby,” you repeat, firmer.
“Fuck,” he says, heated as his hands fall to the couch with a light thud.
You lift up, pushing his hair away from his face, taking in the desperate frustration written clearly as day across his features, “Lose that attitude,” you say, your voice light, “Or I'll leave you here, hard and aching. And you won't come at all tonight.” You rock your hips, earning a whimper from his swollen lips, “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” he breathes, eyes rolling when you lift your hips slowly, before sinking back down over him.
“Good boy,” you murmur, tracing a finger along his jaw, “You're behaving so well tonight,” you add, “Keep being good for me, yeah?”
He nods, his eyes shutting when you rock against him. You take a moment to collect yourself, lifting up until just the tip was nestled inside of you once again, “Look at me, baby.”
His eyes open, tears beading along his lashline, and you pout at him, “Oh, you sweet thing. Don't cry, honey,” your hands cradle his face, “I'll let you come, you just gotta be patient, sweetheart.”
He nods again, broken and defeated, “Please,” he says, barely audible. “I– Fuck, I wanna fill you up. Please let me.”
“Yeah?” You ask, “You want to?”
He nods for the countless time, “So bad– Please–”
A tear spills over, falling down his temple as his head presses into the cushion. You lean over, pressing your lips to where the tear had just trailed, “Fill me up, Jakey. Make that pretty cock come for me.”
You watch with a smile as his hips bucking up, once, twice, three times, before they stutter, and he's painting your sensitive walls with his release.
It's warm, filling you even more as he stills. You rock your hips, working him along as you whisper praise to him.
“That's it, baby– Fuck, that's it,” you rake your hands through his hair, “Look at you, pretty boy.”
He whines, broken sounds falling from his lips as you fuck him through his release, “Yeah, sweetheart, keep coming,” you murmur, his grip on your hips telling you he was verging overstimulation, “Such a good boy, Jakey.”
He whines, bucking his hips as he cries out something unintelligible.
You slow your hips, squeezing around him as you still, “Too much?” You ask sweetly.
“Sensitive,” he says, voice whimpery.
“Yeah?” You ask, lifting up as if you're gonna pull off of him, before you lower back down.
“Fuck!” He cries out, his nails digging into your skin, “Please– I can't–”
“You wanted to come so bad, Jakey,” you say, your tone saccharine, “I'm just helping out.”
“I did–” He gasps, his breath shaky as he melts into this couch. Your heart and your pussy throbs when you see the tears falling more freely from his eyes, “Please, I can't–”
You still completely, shushing him as you lean in, pressing your lips to his. “You did so good,” you murmur against his mouth, “Made me feel so good, Jakey. Such a good boy, aren't you?”
He hums, nodding mindlessly as his eyes fall shut, “Thank you,” he breathes, his voice uneven. “Fuck, thank you.”
“Thank you, baby,” you return.
He still lets out the occasionally sound, soft and weak, as you both come down from the high of it all.
“Let's get cleaned up, honey,” you say, softly nudging him.
His eyes are still shut when he responds, “Okay,” he says, groaning quietly when you lift up off of him.
You stand on shaky legs, leaning over him to press another kiss to his lips, “C'mon, sweet boy,” you say, smiling when he opens his eyes.
He pushes himself up, his eyes trailing over you slowly.
“You were right, by the way,” you say, moving around the couch to head to your bathroom.
He clears his throat, pushing himself up to stand, “About what?” His voice is rough.
You wait until you're in the bathroom before you respond, knowing how quick he could be to switch up. Knowing he could easily have you pinned over the counter.
“You are a good learner,” you call behind you, “Somewhat.”
had to explain what BDSM was to a 50 year old man the other night and i almost came on the spot. how do you get to 50 and remain so innocent and corruptible?
he made so many condescending remarks about how i'm too young to be so jaded, so now i'm going to make sure to press into him how little my age = my life expirience.
like buddy, you may be 20 years older and a full foot taller, but i'm still about to 'good boy' you through your midlife crisis.
The Other Woman or the Other Victim? (Ari’s Story in Tears on a Withered Flower)
Ari, in my opinion, is a painfully realistic representation of how young women are manipulated and used by men who don't respect them as human beings.
Whenever we're introduced to a mistress/side chick in every piece of media, typically, we all automatically villainise her. Or in damn near every case, the mistress is portrayed as the villainess/antagonist. A good example I can think of is Yena Ban from Muse on Fame.
Then we have the mistresses/side chicks who are villainises, but the only thing they're good for is to make the female lead good. Some good examples I can think of are Sumin from Marry My Husband and Aisha from Divorcing My Tyrant Husband.
And a lot of the time, these women go after or pursue taken men knowingly, and a lot of the times, these men give into the temptation and end up cheating on the female leads with these mistresses.
And who receives the most backlash and hate and becomes the punching bag? The mistress, of course. Because she knowingly pursued a man who's already in a relationship and is the homewrecker - as if the man wasn't an active participant in the affair/cheating.
But then we have Ari - a 25 year old young woman who works at the same company as Mincheol, develops feelings for him but unknowingly becomes his mistress, and has no idea the mofo is married. She then finds out about it, gets pissed (rightfully so) at Mincheol for lying to her and leaves him, only for her to take him back after he sweet talks her enough to give him another chance.
"Then she doesn't have an excuse since she's taking him back after knowing he's got a whole wife."
You'd be right. I also thought the same thing and was like: GIRL WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!
But here's the thing:
Ari is a perfect example and representation of young women who get preyed on and manipulated by grown ass men, especially married grown as men.
I would know coz I had TWO grown ass married men attempt to make moves on me (gag). One of them was a work colleague and the other was a family friend who've I've known since I was 8 years old (mind you, I've known his wife around the same time as him before they got married and have met their kids). And I'll be 26 this year.
These men don't even view these young women as people. Like we've seen and read the way Mincheol describes Ari when he's with her and when he thinks about her. A toy that he can pick up and play with then throw away when his bored. Not to mention, Ari is everything Mincheol wishes Haesoo were. You see this through the way he criticises Haesoo for not making herself pretty and being tired all the time. (Even though he knows she works three jobs to pay back the debt HE PUT HER IN and CLEARLY sees her coming home tired, exhausted and damn near lifeless.) But she's NOT Haesoo.
And I honestly and genuinely feel bad for Ari coz she's in her 20s, a period in her life where she's trying to find her place in the world, figure out who she is and what she wants. So obviously, she's entering into the real world with a bit of a naive perspective and experiencing a lot of things for the first time, and that's what men like Mincheol prey on.
She is genuinely in love with this man. Like baby girl already sees him as her future husband and is already picturing a life with him. Meanwhile, this mofo is lying in bed next to her, wondering when Haesoo is going to call him and take him back.
And one thing about men like Mincheol is that no matter how many times they cheat, they will NEVER leave their wives for young women like Ari. That's the sad and harsh truth. And I wouldn't put it past Mincheol wanting to win back Haesoo so he can pull the same shit again.
And I personally find it refreshing that there's a story that doesn't villainise the mistress or make her the stereotypical mean girl out to ruin and bully the female lead even though the readers are still going to villainise the mistress just coz she's not the protagonist.
Coz stuff like this DOES happen in real life. Young women fall prey and get manipulated by these men who whisper sweet nothings and make promises they will NEVER keep just to trap them to be their toys whenever they want something their wives can't and won't give them.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
okay putting out feelers for a fic i'm working on:
alicent is 19, working as an office assistant in the crownlands museum of art to fund her education after being cut off by her conservative father. rhaenyra is 30, wealthy beyond measure and bored with it. when she's invited to be the chair of the museum's glamorous fundraising gala, she meets and takes an immediate interest in the pretty young thing with the long auburn hair. rhaenyra sees a conquest, alicent sees an opportunity, but they both end up with more than they bargained for.
