Sex.

If you have time, please check out my story “rape.” Its a weirdcore story that I’m very passionate about so if you would take a look at it that would mean the world to me. Thank you <3

Sex… right? What is sex… sex is something shameful, something dirty… an act so forbidden but so appealing. An act in which he owns you, he leaves bite marks all over your porcelain skin, rough fucks you in the dark. An ordeal during which you become a mess, during which you can’t control yourself, you lose humanity and become a sex deprived animal in heat. Your eyes roll back, the word “no” suddenly loses its meaning, your name becomes a slur. It stains you forever, a mark on you, a label of a slut, an object for the entertainment of others. The rougher the better, the animalistic nature of it brings it its appeal. Sex is not a simple word, it carries things within it, concealed by the three simple letters it hides shame, it hides a label, and it conceals animalistic desires of creatures that tend to place themselves above mere animals.

He looks at me in the dimly lit space of the small room, it smells like fabric softener and gentle lavender perfume. His eyes shine through the darkness. “Are you alright?”, his gentle voice makes me shiver, we sit on the bed in awkward silence, I move my hand to subtly touch his pinky with mine. “honestly… I am afraid”, I reply simply, my voice is calm and quiet. I feel his big, green eyes find my face in the dark, his gaze lingering somewhere on the silhouette of my head. He moves his hand closer, hesitantly putting his big, rough palm over the back of my hand: “Me too…”, his voice is oddly soothing, I tilt my head to the side gently, looking into his big, green eyes. “You’re afraid?”, I ask him calmly, it feels oddly easy to speak, I move my thumb slowly, softly stroking his hand in small, gentle movements. “I don’t know how to describe it… I am just a bit uneasy”, he responds in the same, calm, soothing manner. His voice is low and slightly raspy, but the undertone is always gentle and kind. “What are you uneasy about?”, I fidget with the bottom of my top slightly, his voice makes me calm down slightly, but the uneasiness, the nervousness and uncertainty still linger in the back of my mind. “Honestly? It’s odd trying to put it into words…”, he sighs gently, his kind, soothing voice slowly devours the silence, “it’s pretty silly, but maybe of disappointing you? Not meeting the standard? I don’t know… not being attractive enough? Hurting you? Making mistakes? Embarrassing myself? It feels really odd…”, he softly brings my hand up to his face, kissing the back of my palm softly, “I’m sorry, that must sound pretty pathetic”. His deep, low chuckle carries the undertone of anxiety, a nervous laugh. Somehow it makes me smile, isn’t that odd.

“Honestly I’m nervous too”, I also let out a nervous chuckle, we are like two idiots, sitting awkwardly on the king-sized bed in the warm darkness, subtly holding each others’s hands, talking about our own inability to fit in. But it oddly makes me feel at ease, the feeling of it not going in the direction in which it is supposed to is scary, but at the same time a little liberating. Like everything in life, the unknown scares me a little, but there is a certain extent of dread that can be overcome by biting your tongue and pushing yourself forward. So, I look closer at his freckled face in the foggy dimmer, big, green, doll eyes… the eyes, so beautiful. Green irises with explosive accents of yellow and fireworks of blue and grey inside the landscape of his gaze. Behind the black voids of his pupils hides warmth, kindness, love, reminding me of the reason I fell in love with that man to begin with. His shy, anxious expression and that slight half smile to conceal it, adorable. Looking into him, into his eyes, I have decided for myself that this was a level of dread, that I was willing to push through, so I take a deep breath: “I want to… do you?” His pretty face, the core of his being betrayed through the black voids of his pupils, a window into his soul, God, this will drive me crazy.

“… Yeah… I want it too”, his voice is quiet, hitching slightly between words. Feeling especially audacious I hold onto all of my courage, leaning forward, kissing his lips. He smells like freshly washed and ironed clothes, like citrus and cinnamon, like a place at which I oddly enough will feel alright no matter what. His warm, rough palm hesitantly, gently lands on my waist, pulling me into his frame softly. He is panting slightly as I pull away, I am too, he leans forward again, kissing the corner of my mouth with utmost care and love. He plants kisses all over my face, my soft jawline, my neck, slowly arriving at my collarbones. His kisses are gentle, careful, as if my skin was ceramic, as if I would break if he had overdone it. I let my finger gently trace little hearts on his thigh through the thick fabric of his jeans, he huffs adorably, softly, in his usual manner, God do I love this man. His ridiculously adorable, big eyes stare into mine. I am so far under his skin, so deep inside his ribcage, I can feel his worries on a personal level, I know his thoughts and I just want to make him feel okay. My hands on his cheeks, I press my forehead against his, brushing my thumbs gently and carefully over his cheek, planting little kisses over his forehead, nose, corners of his eyes and mouth. I can’t help but smile at the way my hands cup the face of the one and only person I will ever love as much as my heart is capable of loving anyone including myself. He lives inside my ribcage, in the depths of it, he is gently holding my heart in his anxious, kind, big palms.

The urge to make him feel comes naturally after I got the first taste of what’s it like. The natural urge to touch him, to look at him, to see him. It feels like I am relentlessly drowning in his soul, and I don’t want to stop. I let my hands slip down, resting on his hips, I kiss his ears as gently as I can, “I love you; I love you; I love you; I love you”, I quietly whisper as many times as I can, until I’m out of breath, until I interrupt myself by planting another kiss on his skin. “I love you too”, he mumbles quietly back, his gentle hands lie me down, his frame hovers over me, his hands press into the sheets next to my head, he looks down at me, before letting himself sink on me, burying his face into the nape of my neck, another soft kiss “I love you so much”, he murmurs quietly into my skin…

*Edit from the author: This little story was more of a joke, than a serious project. But looking at the amount of engagement it is getting (I can’t believe it, seriously, thank you so, so much) I might continue with it, to really write out the rest of the scene. Again, thank you all so, so much for all the engagement and support, I’m really happy about it))))