#wlag

Kinks:

CNC

Kidnapping

Somno

Bondage/Gagging/Collaring

Sensory deprivation

Marking/Ownership/Possession/Jealousy

Voyeurism

Praise

Degradation

Free use

Edging/Denial

Blood

Spit

Masochism/Pain

Breeding

Knife play

Intox

Fauxcest cause I'm fucked up and I do what I want

Beliefs:

Trans rights are human rights

Trans women are women

Trans men are men

Black lives matter

Bi women are bi

Sex work is real work

Pro Palestine

Anons:

🌹, 🦋, 💭, 💋

DNI:

Terfs

HP Fans / JK supporters

Bigots

Feeble

He’s the kind of man that any woman would fall for. The tall, dark, handsome type. He’s the man that subtly glances at you from across the bar, the one who might order you a stiff drink if you’re lucky. His lips are a devilishly mysterious, like that of a Mona Lisa on a dark street corner.  He has those eyes of a curious color that glisten in the spotlight and make your heart turn into warm, sloppy mush. He’s the man that every woman dreams of.

It’s as if we are next door neighbors or best friends, lovers even. Just one look at that pure, ageless face causes me to glow the brightest shades of violet and lime. I pay careful attention to his every step, hanging on the edge of my seat wondering what he’ll do or where he’ll go next. I feel vulnerable whenever I laugh at his stupid jokes and ridiculous antics, but I can’t stop myself. He’s a manipulator; he controls my every feeling, thought, and spoken word. He has saved my life a million times over, and he doesn’t even know it.

We see each other as if for the first time. I melt. He is the way he looks in my dreams, poised and confident, so very sure of himself. His eyes pierce right into my soul, seeing my every weakness and calling out my every flaw. I am baffled by this dapper misfit of a gentleman. I fear saying the wrong thing.

I like your smile. You don’t show it enough.

He looks over his shoulder to an audience I’m not a part of. Eh, it’s just ok. He quickly opens his mouth to flash his perfectly straight teeth and thick, pink gums. It makes me smile that schoolgirl smile that I hate. I feel my cheeks blaze into a flush of red. Afraid of saying more, I shake his hand quickly as we part ways. His hand is firm, yet so smooth to the touch. He looks back at me one more time with crooked lips as I walk from him in shame. 

With that single glance, everything about me has changed. I am no longer the cool and confident woman I once imagined myself to be. Suddenly my face is paler, my breasts are smaller, my knees are stubby, and my feet become pigeon-toed. I am this coy, fragile human being, and I am growing weaker with every smile I reveal and every giggle I let out. I realize that I’ve fallen for someone more than twice my age, which is probably everything and nothing that he wants. He couldn’t buy me a drink or take me to a club yet, but I’m young and of age, which means he could practically do anything and everything he wants with me.

Would I give it up to him? Nah. But I would do it if I had the chance. It’d be that really raunchy, wild kind of sex, full of fierce passion and reckless banging against the wall. But even in my most fantastic of dreams, it’s never possible with him, because I know how he thinks of me without even saying it. I’m just another one of those girls desperately chasing after him like a puppy dog. He’s dealt with my type all his life, and he doesn’t want it. I am an ugly, insecure, immature creature who doesn’t even get a second thought. Part of me just wants to be fuckable in his eyes. That’d prove that I meant something to him, even if just for the night.

I really should give him up. But I want to forgive him, because I know how difficult I am to manage. He is a science that I will never understand, and his mystery will always make me regrettably crawl back to him. It is a shame that he will never understand what he does to me. How he makes me feeble, elated, and restless all at once. How he is everything to me, and I am nothing to him.