kulturalismellektermek

Latest Posts by kulturalismellektermek

The deep connection between your darkness and mine, between your desires and my hands.

I wanna feel dad slowly thrusting into me while I'm still asleep. With his lips on my neck, biting and chuckling when I whine in my sleep, his hand going to my mouth and whispering "Shhh baby, you looked so pretty, I couldn't resist. Daddy's got you doll, just be good for me." - right into my ear as I instinctively arch my back, lips pressing a sleepy kiss on his palm <3

A gentle caress..

need that

I need a series from this

on this Halloween i bring u this thought: figure skater gale au 🧎🏼‍♀️

Rich, pair figure skater Gale whose family moved to Wisconsin to further his skating career. Marge is his partner. He’s a bit of an ice princess (stoic, bitchy, very blunt) and dating his equally rich quarterback boyfriend. The boyfriend is a total self obsessed douche but they’re both dedicated to their sports so he never gets mad at Gale when Gale has to cancel or doesn’t text. He also makes his parents happy, because of his equal status and they’ve always been weird about him being gay so he figures why the fuck not. He keeps him around, even if the sex is shit.

Enter John. He’s a troublemaking burn out who has absolutely no interest in college, which is funny because he’s constantly hanging around their local college. And that’s only because his best friend Curt attends and someone has to save his ass from the rich pricks and nerds. they’re always at parties and hotboxing Curt’s dormroom (is Curt fucking the RA so he looks the other way? Probably) It’s hard not to be bitter when the whole town wrote him off before he even had the chance because of who his old man is, so he takes a special kind of pleasure in fucking with them and showing that he can be even worse.

They are absolute opposites in every way, and yet they can’t stay away from each other. They love arguing despite the fact that they shouldn’t even talk to each other because they’re in such different circles. Gale is constantly playing the “I’m better than you and you should be thankful I even look at you” card which backfires because it just makes John wanna hold him down and fuck him until he’s begging. Eventually the arguing becomes foreplay and the foreplay turns into them actually hatefucking. And he’s still definitely dating the douche quarterback, but honestly that just makes it hotter for both of them. The sneaking around, the fights in public where everyone thinks they hate each other, but secretly they’ll meet up in the some bedroom or bathroom of whatever house party they’re at and John will fuck Gale until he cries with a hand over his mouth because it turns out you never learn volume control when you don’t typically have a reason to moan or be loud.

(When Gale would have sex with his boyfriend, he would just lay there and get lost in his head, he’d go over the routines with Marge he wanted to improve, what assignments he had for class, he viewed it as his down time where he could get some mental housekeeping done. At least then they both got something out of it. Either way, he never got the urge to moan or make a single sound. And he often had the excuse of needing to be quiet so it worked anyway. The first time Bucky fucks Gale, he’s honestly expecting the same situation but thank fuck their first time manages to be somewhere they have time and is fairly private bc Gale is LOUD. At first Bucky thinks that he’s just faking it, and honestly gets kind of pissed, so he starts going deeper, harder, handling him rougher. But that just makes the noises and moans coming out of Gale even louder, more unhinged, his nails embedding themselves in John’s back and ass and he’s definitely going to end up with scars if they keep doing this. And he really fucking hopes they do. Gale sounds like he’s dying for John’s cock when he comes. He hasn’t even heard some of those noises in porn. Bucky never shuts up about it. Gale gets even bitchier when he’s embarrassed. It’s an endless feedback loop that leads to a lot of rough dirty sex.)

They get off on talking shit about each other to other people and seeing if it ends up getting to the other person. And if it does, repeating what was said during sex. “I wonder what everyone will think when they find out that you love being on your knees for me, since ya know, I’m such worthless trash” “begging for me? But I thought you wouldn’t touch me with a 10 foot pole since the frost would make your dick fall off” It becomes a thing. Until it doesn’t. Because at some point the hate fucking turns into deep emotional fucking where it’s pretty obvious they’re in love with each other. Instead of it being hot to sneak around on Gale’s idiot boyfriend, John wants to beat the shit out of him every time he sees him. Wants to tell him that he’ll never have Gale like John does. And when some guy or girl inevitably talks about how hot John is while Gale is within hearing distance, he wants to brag about how John would never touch them when he has Gale. So something has to give. Gale’s rich friends are shocked and appalled when they find out he’s dating Bucky. It’s honestly kind of a mini scandal at the college. Gale Cleven and John Egan? Unheard of.

But even when they’re in love and they’re dating, Gale is so bitchy. All the time. Constantly threatening Bucky that he won’t put out ever again bc Bucky didn’t respond to a text fast enough (the irony is not lost him) constantly smacking his hand away and turning his head when John tries to kiss him. Total brat. And John loves it. Is obsessed with it. The meaner Gale is to him, the harder he gets. And while Gale may be bitchy, all it takes is a few “princess” or “c’mon doll” in that voice and a hand sliding up under his shirt for Gale to cave and allow Bucky to touch him again.

They do have their sweet moments, especially after sex. if John fucks him just right, it’s like his brain reboots itself and he forgets that he’s supposed to be prickly. He’ll lay his head on John’s chest and shove his face into his neck and nuzzle. He’ll place soft kisses anywhere he can reach. He’ll say I love you while his fingers are tangled in John’s hair.

John loves that version of him just as much as the bitchy one. In fact, John would happily spend the rest of his life thawing his ice princess, just to let him refreeze and start all over.

Thots?

Same but i need punishment

"I wanna be your daddy 😏"

Okay, delicious, but would you:

1. Hold me through panic attacks

2. Remind me to eat

3. Remind me not to over eat

4. Not get bored of me

5. Understand that when I am a brat, it's not personal and I just need reassurance not punishment

6. Give me countless reminders that no you don't hate me, no you aren't using me for my body, no you won't turn into a ghost in the middle of the night, no you aren't only dating me for my personality, yes you love me and my body, no you don't mind my weight fluctuations, etc etc etc

7. Understand that I need an elephant amount of patience

8. Listen to me ranting over my hyperfications

9. Help me ignore the bad thoughts

10. Let me bite you

Serseri bi' çocuğum, o ise prensesim

I want a man who get‘s harder when I tell him to stop or how much he’s hurting me

I get so turned on by men crying, they are so beautiful, especially this one

Emotional

The path to your soul

Just yesterday I was watching this movie again and thinking how nice it would be to make a Clegan story out of it. And then I see this post and I have to share it in case someone gets inspired (I really hope so🤞) John is just Gregory, and Gale is the beautiful Italian temptress...

Just think of that moment when they promise not to fall in love... (btw: if you write it you have to give us details of this hot all night sex after which they both glow all day)

I need to make a post about Callum's movie "Divine" for several reasons:

Recent events. Since the movie is about a journalist who is supposed to cover the papal election in Rome, the movie couldn't be more up-to-date right now.

It´s a sweet movie that just wants to entertain. It´s funny and has great sceneries of a sunfilled Rome.

Callum is so cute in it. I do love his dramatic roles to pieces, but he also has a great comedic talent he can put to full use here. The way he´s able to go from confident charmer to lost puppy in the blink of an eye is brilliant. And the way he bestows everything strange that is thrown at him with that "wtf is happening here?"-look.

And finally one reason that I noticed just now after having watched the film already several times: The movie was partly shot in Cologne and vicinity, that I already knew. But today I noticed some props in the luxurious suite that I knew because the same props have also been used in our cinema for a TV production:

The props master for the shooting in our cinema was my brother and he has also once decorated exactly that luxurious room for another production and thus was able to tell me where it was shot - Castle Ehreshoven in Engelskirchen near Cologne. It's not much but I feel so connected to Cal and that movie right now... 😁

What if I pulled your panties to the side and fucked the stress out of you?

Men who slap your clit with their cock a few times before sliding it in go to heaven

I want someone utterly obsessed with me. I want their cock raising at my scent. I want it to hurt him so fucking bad when we're apart that he cant help but fuck my pretty brains out all over the house the moment we finally see each other again. I want him so addicted to me that every moment he's not inside of me, its torture. I want his urges for me to get so bad he pulls me into the nearest bathroom or dark corner and lose all recollection of what he's doing and how public of an area we're in. I want his cock buried deep in my pussy 24/7, pushing his cum inside of me and breeding me at every waking moment. Is it too much to ask for?

Unknown_Punk1

Take me camping.

Settle the Score

18+

After a hard day at work Callum wants to watch his team score, you want to score something else, so he makes you wait, patiently warming his cock until the game ends. 

Daddy kink, lap sitting, edging, cock warming, orgasm denial, spankings, girl in top, orgasm, cream pie

DT @kulturalismellektermek

Settle the Score

Callums living room is dim lit only by the flickering glow of the massive flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. Chelsea’s blue jerseys clash against Arsenal’s red and white, the roar of the crowd spilling through the speakers. 

It’s a crucial match, Champions League semi-final, ‘do or die’ for Callum’s beloved Blues. He’s sprawled on the plush gray couch, his broad frame sinking into the cushions, those wonderful thick thighs spread wide in his tailored black trousers. 

His tie is loosened, the top button of his crisp white shirt undone, and a glass of whisky sits within reach on the coffee table, the amber liquid catching the light.

His dark hair is slightly rustled from running his hands through it during a tense moment in the game, and his sharp jaw is set, blue eyes locked on the screen with an intensity that makes your stomach flutter.

You’re curled up beside him, legs tucked under you, wearing one of his old Chelsea jerseys that’s too big for you, the hem grazing your thighs. 

You’re bored out of your mind. Football’s never been your thing, and Callum’s obsession with it is the one thing about him that drives you up the wall. He’s been ignoring you for the past forty minutes, only humming in response to your attempts at conversation. 

You get it, he’s had a brutal day at work, some nightmare on the set of his latest film, and all he wanted was to come home, pour a drink, and lose himself in this game. 

But those thighs, straining against the fabric of his trousers, and the way his large hands rest on his knees, fingers twitching with every near-miss on the pitch, it’s doing things to you. Things you can’t ignore.

You shift closer, pressing your side against his, and trail your fingers lightly over his forearm. “Callum,” you murmur, your voice soft and teasing, “you sure you don’t want to take a break? Just for a minute?”

His eyes don’t leave the screen. “Love, it’s 1-1, and we’re in the 70th minute. Not a chance.” His deep British accent is clipped, distracted, but the way he leans into you, just a fraction, tells you he’s not completely immune.

You pout, resting your chin on his shoulder, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “But I’m so bored,” you whisper, letting your breath fan over his skin. You feel him tense, just for a second, before he exhales sharply through his nose.

“Behave,” he says, low and firm, but there’s a warmth in it, a warning that sends a shiver down your spine. He reaches for his whisky, taking a slow sip, and you watch the way his throat works, the bob of his Adam’s apple. 

Callum is gorgeous, even when he’s being infuriating and you can’t help yourself, sliding your hand onto his thigh, fingers tracing the hard muscle beneath the fabric. 

His thighs are a work of art, thick and powerful, and you squeeze gently, biting your lip as you imagine them flexing under you in an entirely different manner. 

“Callum,” you say again, voice dropping to a sultry purr, “I could make this so much more fun than the game.”

He finally glances at you, one brow arched, his expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. “You’re trouble, you know that?” But his hand covers yours, stopping your wandering fingers, and he gives them  a don’t test me squeeze. “I’m watching this. You’ll survive another hour without my undivided attention.”

You huff, pulling your hand back, but the heat pooling low in your core isn’t going anywhere. You nuzzle into his neck, lips grazing the sensitive spot just below his ear, and you feel him shift slightly, his breath hitching. “What if I don’t want to survive?” you whisper, letting your tongue dart out to taste his skin.

“Christ,” he mutters, gripping the armrest of the couch. “You’re not making this easy, are you?” His voice is rougher now, and you know you’re getting to him, chipping away at his focus.

You smile against his neck, emboldened, and slide your hand back to his thigh, higher this time, dangerously close to where you know he’s sensitive. “Just trying to help you relax, Daddy,” you whisper, the word slipping out as your secret weapon. He loves when you call him Daddy it always gets his attention, and sure enough, his head turns toward you, eyes darkening.

“Careful love,” he warns, voice low and gravelly, the kind of tone that makes your thighs clench. “You keep that up, and you’re not gonna like the consequences.”

But you’re past caring about consequences. You’re aching, restless, and the sight of him so composed, so in control only makes you want to unravel him. 

You climb onto his lap, straddling one of those glorious thighs, the jersey riding up to expose more of your skin. “Please, Daddy,” you say, pouting, your hands sliding up his chest to tug at his tie. “I just want to make you feel good.”

His hands settle on your hips, gripping hard enough to make you gasp, and he pulls you closer, his eyes flicking back to the screen for a split second before locking onto yours. 

“You’re pushing it,” he says, but there’s a heat in his gaze now, a hunger that wasn’t there before. “If you can’t behave, I’m going to have to find a way to keep you occupied, aren’t I?”

Your heart races, and you nod, biting your lip. “Yes, please.”

He smirks, slow and dangerous, and leans back, patting his lap. “Alright, love. Come here. You’re gonna sit on Daddy’s cock and keep it warm while I watch the game. But you’re gonna be quiet, yeah? Don’t want to hear a peep.”

Your breath catches, arousal spiking at his words, and you scramble to obey, fumbling with his belt and zipper. He helps you, lifting his hips just enough to free cock, and you nearly whimper at the sight of him—thick, hard, and already flushed a deep pink. 

You position yourself over him, sliding your panties aside to sink down on it slowly, and the stretch is exquisite, making your eyes flutter shut as you take him inch by inch.

“Fuck,” you breathe, unable to stop yourself, and his hand comes down on your ass with a sharp crack, the sting blooming across your skin.

“I said quiet,” he orders, his voice vibrating through you. “You gonna be a good girl for Daddy, or do I need to remind you again?”

“I’ll be good,” you whisper, cheeks flushing as you settle fully onto him, your hands gripping his shoulders. He feels so satisfying, filling you completely, but he’s still, not moving, his attention already drifting back to the game. 

His large hand rests on the back of your head, pulling you against his chest so your face is tucked into the crook of his neck, his other hand steadying your hip.

“Now be still,” he murmurs, “and let me watch the game. Make Daddy proud.”

You try, you really do, but the pressure of him inside you, the heat of his body, the faint scent of his cologne, it’s overwhelming. You start to move, just a subtle rock of your hips, chasing the friction, and a soft moan slips out before you can stop it.

Another crack against your ass, harder this time, and you yelp, the sound muffled against his skin. “I said be quiet,” he snaps, his hand tightening in your hair. “You’re testing my patience, love.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, biting your lip hard to keep silent. You force yourself to still, but it’s torture, the ache between your legs growing with every second. You can feel him twitching inside you, and you know he’s not as unaffected as he’s pretending to be.

Minutes pass, agonizingly slow, and you’re trembling with the effort of staying still. The game’s getting intense Chelsea’s pressing for a goal, the crowd’s roaring and Callum’s grip on you tightens, his thigh muscles flexing under you. 

You can’t take it anymore and you lift your head, eyes meeting his, and the desperate need in your expression must hit him hard, because his jaw clenches.

“Alright,” he says, voice rough. “You want to move? Fine. Kneel over Daddy’s thighs and ride me. But you do all the work, and you keep your eyes on me. I’m still watching the game.”

You nod eagerly, scrambling to reposition yourself, straddling him properly now, your knees sinking into the couch on either side of his hips. 

You start to move, slow at first, savoring the drag of his cock inside you, and his hand returns to the back of your head, holding you close your foreheads are almost touching, his eyes flicking between you and the screen.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, “just like that. Keep it steady, love.”

You bite your lip, fighting to stay silent as you pick up the pace, your hips rolling in a rhythm that has you teetering on the edge. 

It feels so good, too good, and despite your best efforts, a soft moan escapes.

His hand cracks against your ass again, and you gasp, tears pricking your eyes from the mix of pain and pleasure. 

“What did I say?” he demands, voice low and dangerous.

“I’m so sorry…” you whisper, your voice shaking. “It’s just… it feels so good.”

He grins darkly, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. “I know it does, baby. But you’re here for Daddy’s pleasure, not your own. You gonna behave, or do I need to stop you?”

“No, please,” you beg, desperation creeping into your voice. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Then keep going,” he says, his hand guiding your hips now, controlling the pace. “But don’t you dare come until I say so.”

You nod, swallowing hard, and focus on moving, your muscles burning with the effort of pleasing him while holding back your own release. You’re so close, every grind pushing you closer to the edge, and you can feel him watching you, his breath hot against your skin.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he mutters, almost to himself, his eyes flicking back to the screen as Chelsea’s striker lines up for a shot. 

“Keep going, love. Don’t stop.”

But it’s too much. Your rhythm falters, your body trembling as you teeter on the brink. You stop at the top of his cock, gasping, your hands clutching his shoulders. “I’m sorry,,” you whimper, “but if I keep going, I can’t—”

He cuts you off, his hands guiding you back down on his cock, rough and unrelenting. “I wasn’t asking,” he rasps, his hips bucking up to meet you, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through your core. “You don’t stop until I tell you to.”

“Yes, Sir,” you choke out, tears spilling down your cheeks as you force yourself to move again, your body screaming for release. You bite your lip until you taste copper, determined to stay silent, to make him proud.

He senses how close you are, his eyes narrowing as he watches you struggle. 

“Don’t even try it,” he warns, his voice a low command. “Not until the games finished,”

You nod, a broken whimper escaping as you fight to obey. The game’s reaching its climax Chelsea scores, the crowd erupts, and Callum’s grip on you tightens, his own control fraying. “Fuck, that’s it,” he mutters, whether to you or the team, you’re not sure. 

“Keep going, baby. Almost there.”

You’re a mess, shaking, gasping, but you don’t stop, your body moving on instinct now, driven by the need to please him. 

His hand slides between you, his thumb finding your clit, and you nearly scream, the sensation pushing you right to the edge.

“Callum Daddy, please,” you beg, your voice barely a whisper. “I can’t hold it—”

“Not yet,” he snaps, his thumb circling faster, deliberate, cruel in its precision. “You wait for me.”

The game ends and Chelsea wins, 2-1—and the second the final whistle blows Callum’s attention is fully on you. 

His eyes are piercing , his breath ragged, and he thrusts up into you, hard and deep, his thumb still working you. “Now,” he groans, “come for Daddy.”

You shatter, your vision whiting out as your orgasm crashes through you, wave after wave of pleasure that leaves you sobbing your head tilting back. He follows a moment later, his grip bruising as he spills inside you, a low groan rising from his throat.

For a moment, you’re both still, your bodies pressed together, the only sound your ragged breathing and the distant hum of the TV.

He strokes your hair, gentle now, and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Good girl,” he praises, his voice soft, warm. “You did so well for me.”

You smile, exhausted but sated, and nuzzle into his neck. “Worth it?” you ask, breathless. 

He laughs, low and rich, and pulls you closer. “Absolutely worth it.” He grins.

END

waking her up in the middle of the night to the pulse of my throbbing cock buried inside of her needy little cunt

"shhh, darling doll, don't worry you can go back to sleep, just let me use your body."

AU where Feyd is a poor college student looking for a job and ends up housekeeping for a pretty twink with perfect hair who has no friends. He finds out Paul is the god of hair after an argument where his loses all of his precious blonde locks.

And John is a pastry chef and he was like Will Poulter in Bear, and is sexy cooking always seduces Gale

Gale's ovulating rn in my fic goodness gracious John needs to wife him UP

I will now proceed to be extremely normal about this for about 4-7 business days

(they should fuck)