#Local Cable TV | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thefunkfactory · 1 month ago

Text

Jacque’s Gym

Ozzie was chilling at home alone in his living room after getting home from his local community college. He was bored and depressed and didn't want to think about what he was going to do after community college ended next semester because he had no clue what he wanted to do with his life. He didn’t want to go on some spiraling tangent about what was he supposed to do for the rest of his life so instead of doing that he was surfing through tv shows and movies trying to decide what to watch, he couldn’t find anything interesting on any streaming services so he just switched over to channel surfing through cable. Trashy reality tv, cartoons, straight to video movies, nothing was catching Ozzie’s interest. He finally had surfed his way to the sports channels, replays of NFL games, sports commentators talking endlessly about college basketball, channel after channel Ozzie was getting more and more restless and bored. That's when he suddenly flipped to a channel that was playing the strangest thing, it seemed like some cheesy advertisement for a gym he had never heard of. The odd thing was that the ad was absolutely silent as it kept showing footage of guys working out intercut with a black and green swirl taking up the entirety of the tv screen. Ozzie was about to keep on flipping through the channels when suddenly the ad had sound, “Come on down to Jacque’s Gym! Now through the end of the month we are offering a free month to any new guests! All you have to do is stop by and tour our state of the art gym!”. As the ad was playing the super scripted lines, Ozzie kept watching with eyes glued to the screen as the as just kept switching back and forth from images and panning wide shots of the gym to the green spiral. The ad began to conclude “Who wouldn’t wanna take advantage of this hypnotic deal?! So come on down to Jacque’s Gym located at…” Ozzie heard the sound fade away as he became more and more focused on just simply watching the hypnotic spiral. Just a few seconds later the channel resumed playing the baseball game that was on and Ozzie snapped out of his trance. He barely even remembered what he just watched, just that it left him with this odd feeling that he couldn’t place. He quickly forgot about it and hopped on his phone since channel surfing had proven to be incredibly boring.

Later that night as Ozzie got ready for bed he was just going about his routine when suddenly he remembered the ad for Jacque’s Gym that he had conveniently forgotten about. He was in the middle of brushing his teeth when he suddenly stopped as if he was frozen, his brother who was only a little younger than him noticed and waved his hand in front of Ozzie’s face and jokingly said “Hey? You in there? Earth to Ozzieeeee?” Upon hearing his name Ozzie snapped out of whatever trance he was just in and his brother, Austin, asked him “Yo where did you just go?” Ozzie replied “I..don’t know…” obviously confused himself.

Throughout the week Ozzie kept falling in and out of the trance, he never knew how long the trances lasted but by the end of the week he randomly fell into the trance when laying in bed around three in the afternoon and woke up from it around eight that evening wearing a tanktop, basketball shorts which were damp with sweat, and a beat up pair of converse all of which he hadn't worn since he used to workout a little for fun in high school. He only woke up that night to Austin coming into his room and loudly blurting out “EWWWWW OZ! Don’t you have any deodorant?!” Spurred out of the trance by his brother’s loud complaint, Ozzie sniffed the air and embarrassingly said “Uhhmmm…just uhh get out real quick!”. Ozzie had no recollection of the past 5 hours be he realized, via all the context clues, that somehow he was conscious enough to have dug up old clothes from deep in his closet that he didn’t even know he still had and had been actively working out to the point that him and his room now reeked of musty sweat and B.O. He knew that all of this had something to do with that weird ad he saw at the beginning of the week so he started doing some digging.

Ozzie took the next few days to find out what was going on with him. He scoured the cable channels looking and hoping that the weird ad would come back on so that he could try to understand what was causing this hypnotic affliction. He looked all over the internet and couldn't find anything. Then one night when searching he found this random reddit post he hadn’t found before, it was a post from someone talking about their friend. It stood out to Ozzie because the poster was talking about how he had a friend once who was a complete nerd, not a muscular bone in his body, then one day the friend started acting odd, like very spacey and kept disassociating for hours on end “almost like he was hypnotized” the redditor claimed. Then later on in the post Ozzie read something that made him feel like he was on the right path “He kept trying to get me to go to this new gym he was going to. It was something like Jake’s Gym or Jock Gym, something like that”. Ozzie knew that this had to be it and that the friend just must’ve misremembered the name of Jacque’s Gym. There was barely any traction on this week old post, but there was an update that the user posted it read “I haven’t heard from my friend in about a week despite me reaching out plenty of times. I'm a little worried but I remember that he sent me the location of the gym so that I could go with him if I wanted. I think I am gonna go and see if they have seen him at all.” The update was from just the other day. Ozzie sent the user a dm, asking about if he had found his friend and if his friend was doing any other weird trance-like things, and then he went to bed.

When Ozzie woke up in the morning he felt exhausted and quickly realized that he wasn’t in bed, he was wearing the same unwashed workout clothes he was wearing the other day and standing in the middle of his room with two 20lb. weights in his hands. Just like when Austin caught him like this, Ozzie’s natural musk hung heavy in the room. With his door and windows closed, who knows how long Ozzie was hypnotically working up a stench in the sealed room trapping all of his musk. Ozzie quickly put down the weights and stripped out of the sweat stained clothes, he ran to his windows and opened them all the way and turned on his ceiling fan in an attempt to air out his room. As soon as he did that he saw that he had a message from the user he reached out to, hoping to shed new light on the situation at hand Ozzie went to open it up when he realized that the message wasn't unread, it was sent to him at two in the morning and it had a read receipt showing that Ozzie opened it practically right after it was sent. Upon looking at what the user said, Ozzie read “Bro…you gotta come to Jacque’s its mind numbingly amazinnnnngggggg” and attached below it was a link that had already been clicked on. Ozzie, realizing that this is why he had a midnight workout sesh, weighed the risks and realized that he might get more answers if he could just sit through the video and not give in to the spiral.

He clicked on the link and it opened up the ad he saw. Ozzie made it through about thirty seconds of men working out interrupted by a green spiral when the script began “Come on down to Jacque’s Gym! Now through the end of the month we are offering a free month to any new guests! All you have to do is stop by and tour our state of the art gym!” Ozzie was keeping his mind occupied with thoughts so that he wouldn’t fall into another trance. “Who wouldn’t wanna take advantage of this hypnotic deal?! So come on down to Jacque’s Gym located at…” But just like the first time Ozzie couldn’t keep his mind together as it unraveled before he could find out where the gym was.

Ozzie came too sitting in his car in the parking lot of an old rundown strip mall, looking around he tried to orient himself. He looked down and saw that he was once again wearing the same dirty clothes infused with his sweat and B.O. that he kept waking up in, then once he looked up and in his rearview mirror he saw that perfectly framed in the mirror was a sign lit up a bright green that read, in huge block lettering, Jacque’s Gym. Ozzie rubbed his eyes and reopened them just to find that he wasn’t dreaming, he had wound up right where all the answers he was seeking were. Getting out of his car, just feet from the entrance he felt like this was a bad idea, he looked around and saw a small parking lot that could fit about fifty cars filled to the brim with every spot taken yet it seemed like every other store front around was completely abandoned. Ozzie composed himself and said “This ends now” as he began walking towards the building. With every step he took closer to the building he knew there was no going back, suddenly as if it appeared from thin air, a huge water bottle materialized out of thin air in his hand. He reached the doors and opened one, as he stepped in he felt his mind get fuzzy, a wave of stench engulfed the skinny twenty year old. It smelled as if a group of boys who have never showered a day in their lives hotboxed the gym with a barrage of farts and noxious gym socks. The wafting stench of feet, farts, B.O. and unwashed man ass was overwhelming for the tiny college student. He felt his knees go weak when suddenly he felt someone catch him, before he could react he was being carried away. Ozzie woke up in what appeared to be a dimly lit sauna room, it was about as big as a decently sized cubicle, he tried to move and realized it felt like his whole body was asleep. He heard a voice come out from what he assumed to be a speaker in the ceiling, “Looks like you found your way to your salvation boy” the deep voice from the ceiling said, “Are you ready to be the most disgusting version of yourself there is?”. Ozzie tried revolting, tried crying out for help, tried to command his body to escape but to no avail. The anonymous voice in the ceiling laughed and said “I love this part” as the sound of air slowly surged into the room. Ozzie made one last ditch effort to escape, knowing that it was in vain, as a mysterious green mist flooded into the tiny space. He caught a whiff of the green mist that was being pumped into the room, it somehow reeked worse than the stench when he walked into the gym. The green mist smelled like an eggy fart that lingers for eternity in your nose mixed with the reeking smell of a high school football team locker room on a hundred degree day. Ozzie felt something in him change almost as soon as the mist assaulted his nose, he felt that the smell he was experiencing wasn’t the revolting prison it was supposed to be but instead he felt like it smelled like��manhood. Ozzie’s brain was being taken over and rewired by the odor as more of the noxious aroma was pumped in the room, the stench of a bodybuilder’s smelly feet and the fumes from a brother’s musty unwashed pit became akin to smelling a little slice of heaven to Ozzie. He was pumped so full of the warm green mist that his body didn’t know how to handle it besides making him forever love the stenches that he was whiffing.

The green mist dissipated and Ozzie sat still exactly where he was as a door opened and a buff jock walked in wearing nothing more than a pair of electric blue shorts and Nike Air Force 1’s, he leaned down to Ozzie’s level, “You feel good lil bro? Feel the brostink flowing through you now?”. Ozzie just sat there, his mind too high on brostink to form words. The jock lifted Ozzie’s arm and stuck his head in it “PHEEEEEW OH YEAH! Bro you stink sooooooo good even if you dont have any meat on those lil bones lil brooooo!”. The jock kept Ozzie’s arm raised in the air and grabbed his head and forced Ozzie’s head into his own armpit, Ozzie was passively breathing in his own pit funk which would normally disgust him but now he just thought to himself “...me…stink…gooooood…”.

Ozzie left the sauna room and started working out for the next two hours, he left Jacque’s gym barely able to remember where he parked his car even though it was only ten steps away. He got in his car and headed home after his workout, stopping for a burrito on the way, “Gotta refuel after that…huhuh” he said to himself in his car. Getting home and throwing away the burrito wrapper he went up to his room to find his Austin rifling through Ozzie’s room, “...Bro whatcha…doin?” Ozzie dumbly questioned, “I am looking for that blue jacket I really like I think you have-” Austin stopped himself upon smelling the odor floating off of his scrawny older brother’s sweaty body, “Ozzie, when was the last time you showered?”. “Ion know…huhuhuh…you tell me…” Ozzie rushed Austin and grabbed his head, even with him being bigger Austin has a hard time fighting back as he kept getting whiffs of super potent brostink drawing the struggle. Eventually losing the grapple, Austin was held in the musty crevice of Ozzie’s armpit until he could barely breathe. Falling to the floor Austin couldn’t wrap his head around what happened to his normally clean and tidy older brother and why it felt like his mind was slowing down after being trapped in his brother’s pit prison. Crawling away Austin tried to escape before being flipped over onto his back by Ozzie, Austin helplessly cried out to his brother “...what…happened…Oz?” to which Ozzie responded simply by saying “Jacque’s happened lil broooo” before knocking out his brother with a massive butt blast.

PPPPPPPFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRBBBBBBBBBBBTTTTTTTTTTT

#stink #dumber #musk #armpits #farts #face farts #ttf

237 notes · View notes

morethanonepage · 1 year ago

Text

all three of those channels are cable, not broadcast anything, so they wouldn't be affected either way 🤷🏻‍♀️

Reintroducing a fairness doctrine would end FOX News. It would barely change CNN or MSNBC.

#broadcast FOX DOES exist but its the channel w like regular tv shows + local news #the people asking about the 1st amendment-- broadcast is a government utility nbc abc cbs & fox have licenses to use #as such the government is allowed to regulate what goes on the air waves #the existence of cable news actually strengthens that claim to constitutionality #bc it makes clear that any opinions that wouldnt be allowed one-sided by the fairness doctrine could still easily be disseminated #*the actual justification was that radio spectrum is a public good & the us govt believed it should be regulated so people wouk #*would have equal access

2K notes · View notes

jillsandwhichs · 1 month ago

Text

Joel Miller x Reader Smutshot Collection , Chap 5 , Distraction

Masterlist

Pairing: F!Reader x Joel Miller

Summary: You are cooking dinner for both you and Joel and he cannot keep his hands off of you. He'd rather have dessert before dinner

Status of your guy's relationship: Married

WC: 2.9k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: Smut, Breast play/sucking, Making out, Dirty talk, P in V & it's unprotected, Kitchen sex, Praising/Slapping kink, Soft/Dom Joel, He finishes inside of you, Some aftercare

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

Your eyes glanced over at the clock hosted up onto the beige wall in your kitchen. It is seven pm-finally. That means Joel will be home soon. On Wednesdays he tends to work overtime and doesn't get home until two hours later than usual. It's frustrating, yes, but it earns him more money and you'll take what you can get.

Before he gets home you'd like to have his dinner close to done. You want to have a plate and beer ready for him so he can just unwind and relax. He works so hard, he deserves it.

You're making a simple dinner tonight-grilled cheese and tomato soup. It won't take to long and it's perfect for the weather outside. That fall breeze and the crisp air pair well with a warm home cooked meal. Plus, Joel could eat damn near five sandwiches and two bowls of soup. That man can pack it. You just wanted to keep it easy tonight, especially since you're already getting fatigued.

Every other light in your home was turned off besides the kitchen & living room light. You had a candle on the coffee table in the rec room and one on the dining table just a few feet behind, both lit. They smell good. One is the scent of cinnamon and the other, the one in the dining room, is the scent of mahogany wood. The day you smelt it in a local city shop, it reminded of you of Joel. Anytime he's off of work, you'll sniff it periodically just to recall his scent-despite the fact you never forget it in the first place. His musk lingers all throughout your guy's home.

Instrumental folk music plays off of the TV. On one of the cable channels, they constantly play music such as this. You often play it when you're home alone so it's not too quiet. Once Joel's home, you turn it down or off completely.

Flipping over one of his grilled cheese's, the sound of the front door opening could be heard. No need to fret, it has to be him. The door has been locked all day and only him & your mother have a secondary key. The door leads into the living room and the kitchen is just across from it-Joel will spot you any second. You continued to focus on his sandwich and soup, wanting to cook and season them well.

Joel took off his work boots and socks, stuffing them into the rugged shoes. His jacket that he wore to and from work was also removed and tossed onto the white couch beside the TV. You saw Joel pick up the black remote to pause the music. He doesn't like it very much, he prefers country or rock. It was when Joel smirked and hummed when he saw you that you smiled as well. "Hey Darlin'." Joel said softly, making his way to you. "Hi baby." You responded, gazing at him before looking back at the meal.

"What're you makin'?" "Grilled cheese's with tomato soup-sound tasty to you?" "Sure does, thank you dear." Joel thanked you. He's always so grateful. Every night, even on weekends, you have dinner prepared for him. Sometimes he cooks for you but it's primarily you. You've never cared, it's a hobby anyways. "Damn, it does smell good." Joel sat down at the dining table, his eyes on your figure as you cooked. "Does it? Good to know." You chuckled, stirring the soup and seasoning it further.

"How was work?" "Normal, the usual. How was your day?" Joel questioned you back. "Also the usual aside from getting a call from my mother. She wants me to visit tomorrow so I can help her with yard work." "I can take the day off to help too." "No need baby." You shook your head. He needs to focus on real work. It's a bit of a pain that your mom needs you tomorrow but you're willing to do whatever for her so at the end of the day, you can't complain.

The food was really coming together. The aroma of the meal filled the kitchen and overall the entire home. You could even hear Joel smelling the air. "I love when you cook for me." He murmured, then stood up. "Well I love cooking for you." You giggled, setting one grilled cheese on the side to begin another. Your breath shuttered as you felt his burly arms wrap around your waist. Joel rested his head on your shoulder. He slowly swayed the two of you side to side. It felt relaxing.

"Missed you so much." Joel groaned, kissing the crease of your neck. You sighed deeply. "I missed you honey." You replied with a loving tone. His large, vein filled hands stroked your lower stomach through your fabricated tank top. "I think about you all day." "Oh yeah?" You giggled again, your eyes closing gently as he kissed up behind your ear. "Smell so good." He groaned, licking your earlobe slightly. You laughed-you are quite ticklish.

You flipped over the grilled cheese and patted it down to the pan. It was now becoming harder to cook with Joel up in your bubble. "My love? Do you want your dinner or no?" You snickered, hitting his thigh playfully with the spatula. "If you're my dinner, yeah I do." You nearly snorted by his corny comment. "Such a man." You murmured, stirring the soup once again and dialing the heat down somewhat. "I can be your dessert." You fed into his silly words. "Mmm." He groaned again, kissing your cheek and down to your neck.

His hands slid up your torso and to your tits where he caressed them and squeezed them. He's like a teenager during their first time-all about the boobs. "Once again, you're such a man." You teased him. You have a feeling you know what's going to happen, as a matter of a fact, it is bound to happen.

He continued to fondle your boobs through your tank top, squeezing them and rubbing them. "My little pretties." Joel kissed your ear. You hummed and nearly moaned once his hands vigorously slid down to your shorts. The shorts you are wearing are a bit loose on you, which gives Joel extremely easy access. You detoured your hands away from the stove, beginning to not really care about the dinner-despite being hungry. But your hunger has also changed it's route because now, you're hungry for him.

Joel's left hand remained on your waist whereas his right went into your shorts and straight into your panties. You seethed in pleasure as one singular finger slipped through your pink folds. You're dampened. "So fuckin' wet and I barley even touched you." Joel whispered in your ear. He ran his finger through your folds a few more times before pulling his hand out. "Let me fuck you," He mumbled, turning you around to face him. "I'll finish dinner once we're done." This man is so convincing. "Deal." You nodded your head eagerly.

You squealed as Joel picked you up into his arms. He brought you over to the wiped down counter and set you down on top of it. This position-oh it makes you cum so fast. You watched with vigor as he tossed his belt onto the ground. While he was messing with his lower half's clothing, you removed your shorts. Joel watched you as you did, his eyes never detaching to look somewhere else. "Beautiful." He put simply as he gazed at you.

You not only removed your shorts, but your shirt and bralette too-leaving you in only your panties. You just cleaned the counters today and they'll be right back to being a mess by the time this is finished with. Through Joel's underwear, you could see how hard he was. You couldn't wait to feel his cock inside of you, deep in you. You're just as horny as he is and yet, it only took him seconds to turn you into this feral animal. "Come here." You whined, holding onto his shoulders as he pressed himself into you. "My impatient girl." He teased, kissing your lips with utter passion.

As he kissed you, it was as if everything else surrounding you dissipated. You cupped his face with your soft hands. His incoming beard was scruffy and hairy, you found yourself running your fingers through it. "I need you." He growled, licking your lower lip. The taste of strawberry banana went into his mouth-it's from your chapstick. "Need you baby." You moaned, opening your mouth just the slightest bit. Joel shoved his tongue into your mouth, sliding it against yours as he pressed his manhood up against you. His hands were still cupping your tits.

Your hand went to the back of his head. You never want him to stop kissing you. Your eyes were closed as he kissed you lovingly. His tongue in your mouth made you even more wet-you need him now.

Joel pulled away and brought his head down to your tits where he then began to suckle on the left one. "Oh God..." You mumbled. Your hand remained on his head. You stroked his hair softly, holding his head against your boob. You felt his tongue flick your nipple and circle all around it. His other hand was pinching your right nipple. You are so sensitive on your breasts-it made you feel overstimulated as he went on. "Jesus." You called out, your head tossing back as he switched to your right breast.

"All mine." Joel said in a husky voice. He slapped your left tit and squeezed it, hard. "Love suckin' em." He added on. His entire mouth was covering it. Your fingers ran through his brown hair. You are obsessed with him, just as he is with you. "Baby." You moaned. "Hmm?" "Please just... Just fuck me." You are desperate. Joel pulled away from your nipple with a smile as he kissed you-it was more of a peck. "Scooch back a bit." He muttered, pulling his boxers down. You listened and giggled.

Your eyes shot down to his dick. It's so big. You need to feel him. His skin against yours, his dick deep in you, his semen filling you up-all of these dirty thoughts keep piling up in your mind.

He took ahold of the base of his cock, pumping it a couple times. His fingers went down to your panties to pull them to the side. He was speechless and breathless. Not only could he feel how wet you are but he can see it too-smell it even. The pheromones and scents you let off make him act like a dog. "So sexy." Joel whispered to you with a snicker. "All for you." You bit your lip. It took you time to get into dirty talking but being married to Joel has definitely lifted your confidence in doing it.

Lining it up with your dripping cunt, Joel, with care, pushed himself into you. You moaned whilst he moved into you. Your forehead was against his shoulder as you caught your breath. "You okay?" "I'm fine." You responded to him. It's been a bit since the two of you fucked. He's so big. He's already stretching your walls and he hasn't even moved yet. He kissed the top of your head and caressed your cheek as he began to move.

His hips started off slow. He understands how you're feeling. Joel will never hurt you. He loves it rough and despite that, he'll go any pace you want him too. "So fuckin' tight." Joel praised you, his hand now resting on your thigh, his other still on your face. Your head remained against his shoulder for a little while longer. "Love how wet you get for me. You're a good girl sweetheart." Joel whispered against your ear before he nibbled on the low part of your lobe. "You deserve to feel good baby." He continued. He's so gentle when he wants to be.

Joel gripped your chin and tilted it up, making you look at him. "Pretty girl." He pressed his forehead against yours as he began to pick up the pace, knowing you could take it good for him.

His hands quickly went to your lower waist as he pulled you forward, making it easier to fuck you. His hands remained on your waist. "Just wanna fill you up, make you feel all warm inside." You moaned at his words and finally moved your hands from his shoulders and to his face once again. He melted at your touch. Your foreheads stayed pressed together. He noticed your whiney face and how worn out you looked just by him dumbing you out on his cock. The way you were gazing at him nearly made him cum right then and there.

"Don't look at me like that, c'mon princess." Joel looked away, continuing to thrust into you. You giggled quietly to yourself. It makes you feel good knowing you can make him finish just by a look. "Look at me handsome." You caressed his chest through his shirt. "I'll cum baby." "I won't look at you like that then." You snickered, bringing your right hand up to his face to pull him back towards you. He chuckled and looked at you. You kept your word. "Harder." You panted. You spread your legs slightly, giving him more room.

His hands went to your thighs. He held onto to them as he began to move roughly in and out of you. Your eyes darted down to your pussy. Watching his member move inside of you was oddly satisfying. He took notice of your peaked interest. "You liking what you're seein'?" He teased, rubbing your warm thighs. "Mhm." You nodded. God, it was kind of hot. "That's how I'm able to make you feel so good-by fucking you like this." He said in a deep voice as his cock moved into you at a rapid pace. "Joel." You whimpered, tossing your head back as his pumps became more messy and uncoordinated.

Joel laughed at the sight of you. You're stunning. The way you unravel around him. It boosts his ego an unnecessary amount. "Keep takin' it beautiful." He hummed. His right hand slid up your body, starting from your thigh and slithering up to your face where he then cupped your cheek and made you look at him once again. Something about staring at each other whilst making love has always been sexy to the two of you. "Wanna see you when you cum." He whispered to you but his manly voice was still evident.

That dark look in his eyes as he watched you made you want to finish on the spot. The look he gives you when he's close is this one to a T.

You moaned softly, almost a whimper even, as he slapped your lower face slightly. He gripped it right afterwards. You remember the time you told Joel you were into it and ever since, it's became apart of your guy's sex life. God, it makes you feel so dirty and you fucking love it. He hit you again but this time kissed your cheek right afterwards. You tittered. "You tell me if I ever really hurt you when doin' that, alright?" "Of course baby." You replied in a low tone. His hips began to pick up speed again, moving more vigorously. "Gonna cum." He grunted, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

You took what he said to heart. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him against you, wanting him to finish inside of you. He groaned against your neck and his grip on your waist got tighter. "Such a good fuckin' girl, feel me fill you up." Were his last words before he then came inside of you.

Your moans filled the air. The feeling of his seed being milked by you inside you was comforting and you seriously needed it.

Soon after, you came as well. As you finished, Joel ran his fingers through your brushed hair and held the back of your neck. "You're squeezin' me darlin'." Joel chuckled, kissing your neck and cheek numerous times. "Mmm." You groaned, bringing your mouth to his. Joel kissed you right back, his thumbs rubbing your waist as he did.

Once the both of you came down from your highs, Joel pulled out. The counter was infact a mess now, along with the floor. You were so soaked that it literally dripped below you. "Dirty girl." Joel murmured to himself when he saw the mess. You chortled and attempted to stand up but were instantly humbled. "Haven't fucked you in a bit, want me to run us a bath baby?" Joel asked you. "What about dinner?" "We can eat afterwards." "Okay." He's so caring.

Joel walked back over to you and lifted you up into his arms gently. "You feel okay? Did it feel good?" He spoke as he carried you to your guy's master bathroom. "I'm okay and it felt great. Was it good for you?" "Always is babygirl." Joel patted your bum, earning a squeak from you.

You won't even be surprised if a round two occurs tonight.

#the last of us #the last of us show #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #tlou #the last of us fanfiction #smutshot #tumblr fyp

192 notes · View notes

mylittleredgirl · 4 months ago

Text

how did you get your tv growing up? (if you had multiple houses or technologies, pick the one you most identify with your formative childhood tv experience)

op's formative tv experience was in a rural area with rabbit ears in the 90s, but before 18 i lived in a place with every one of these except satellite. rotary antenna is its own category because i will never forget the day when a friend's family put one in. the sheer power of turning that knob and seeing a wholeass giant roof antenna turning around and then you can pick up the x-files?? fucking religious experience.

#i really did have only one channel and it was abc #i watched an awful lot of World News Tonight With Peter Jennings for a latchkey kid with a tv #we got cable in high school #looking something up for this reminded me about how like 15 years ago the laws changed in the usa #and stations couldn't broadcast analog signals anymore only digital ones #and it was a big thing for people with old tvs to get adapters...#tv #polls

315 notes · View notes

silverzoomies · 10 months ago

Text

Turkish Delight

peter maximoff x reader smut

chapter 1: sweet talkin'

link to chapter 2: here

warnings: shameless smut, porn without plot, phone sex, mutual masturbation, best friends, dirty talk

word count: 6,368

a/n: hiyaaa !! i'm back with more filth !! peter speaks russian in this one. i've seen people use russian in place of sokovian language before. and since i've been learning russian for a while, i thought i'd give it a shot !! if you're familiar with the language and anything seems off, please let know asap !! as usual, apologies if peter seems ooc, or if my writing isn't up to par !!

tag list (if i forgot you, please remind me !!): @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz @scene-and-dandylover @quickandsilvers @luttic @billielourdslays

■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

Chillaxing on the sofa in his mom’s basement, Peter drew out a sigh. His hooded eyes gaped at the TV screen. As he channel surfed, his thumb tapped lazily on the remote. Peter stopped to check each channel in abrupt intervals. Afternoon cable was boring as hell today. It failed to grasp his short lived attention span.

Seinfeld reruns? He saw just about all of ‘em. Soap Operas? Those were more his mom’s thing. Huge pass. Nature documentaries? Could be cool. Guess it depended on which one, though.

Oh. It was the one about the polar bear’s great journey across the arctic! Nifty enough. Except, Peter saw that one three or four times already now. Скучный (boring). Так скучно (So boring).

‘Kay, soooo…TV was kind of a no-go. Instead, Peter popped on the PS1 and settled for a game of Metal Gear Solid. The game’s opening intro was a little too slow for his liking, but Peter forced himself to focus. It sucked he was so antsy today, so fidgety and impatient. He needed some kind of distraction. Any distraction. And he needed one fast.

Peter bounced a leg, half invested in the game’s dialogue. His fingers absentmindedly flicked the controller buttons. Not even five minutes into playing, he found himself frustrated and bored again. This time around, he figured some company might ease his ennui.

He darted across the arm of the couch to a side table. Over a stack of comic books and empty cans of soda, he snatched the receiver to a Garfield phone. Peter dialed a number in less than a second. Too fast, at first. The phone didn’t even register his request. Rolling his eyes, he dialed the number again. Slower this time.

Peter kept the vibrant hunk of orange plastic between his cheek and shoulder. Buzzy ringing echoed on the other end of the line, as he waited for the recipient to pick up. The time it took for a voice to finally respond felt like fifty billion years. Your voice. One of Peter’s closest comrades. The pal he shared most, if not all, of his free time with.

There were days when you visited, and you laid back on the sofa with him. With your legs stretched over his lap and a magazine in your hands, you relaxed. Peter would always do his usual, playing whatever game he ‘bought’ from the local K-Mart. Every time he cursed himself for making a misstep, you giggled. You knew how frustrating it was for him, if he wasn't a hundred leaps ahead of everything. And just to get back at you - but also to hear you laugh again - he’d reach over and dig his fingers into your belly.

He loved that it took such minimal effort to make you laugh. You always had an easygoing warmth about you. And maybe you were also pretty cute too. Sometimes, the crook of your smile made him blush. Oh, and you didn't mind duking it out in Mario Kart sometimes. That was also kinda cool. What more could a lonesome guy ask for? Просто друзья. Ничего больше (Just friends. Nothing more). Yeah. He could be content with that. No problem.

Ten minutes into conversation with you, Peter breathed a yawn into the receiver.

“You know, I’m surprised you have the patience for talking on the phone.” You joked.

The speakers roared with a soft buzz in his ear. Peter didn’t register your words at first. Blinking lazily, he tapped the PS1 controller buttons at rapid speed. In the game, Snake fought off an onslaught of bad guys. Peter faked his offense with a scoff.

“Seriously? Man, what’s up with that? It’s like everyone thinks I can’t do stuff at normal speed without goin’ berserk.” He said, cursing under his breath as Snake got gunned down again.

A small part of him wished you were there, with your legs over his lap, cracking jokes at his expense. Over the phone, you emitted a gentle laugh.

“Because you have? Multiple times, dude!” You said.

Surely you could hear Peter’s eyes roll in his skull.

“Oh, yeah? Name five.” he pressed.

The fast paced clicking of the buttons echoed like a trill in the basement. He overheard the sound of rustling as you shifted in place. If Peter had to guess, he’d bet his left foot you were still lazing around in bed. It was a Saturday, after all. With the hour tipping on the edge of late afternoon. You always moved at the slowest of speeds on your off days.

“I’m just saying! I totally get it. Even I don’t have the patience for chats on the phone sometimes.” You said, and a squeaky yawn followed.

More rustles scuffed from your end, as if you moved to stretch. Keeping his gaze fixed on the flickering, CRT screen; Peter followed flashes of light from each grunt’s gun. His reaction time proved effortless as always. His methods, not so much.

“Nah, it’s cool.” Peter mumbled after a beat, “Doesn’t bother me much if I’m talkin’ to you. You’re not boring, first of all. And on the off chance I do get bored, I can just say - hey, babe, I’m gonna hang up. And you won’t get-uhhh…” He lingered on his next thought, distracted with gunning down more masked baddies, “You won’t get, like, butt hurt over it."

“Why would I?” You laughed, “Did someone seriously get offended by that?”

“My aunt did once. She got mad pissed ‘cuz I told her I was ‘kinda bored’ on the phone. She made me pass it to my mom, so she could rat me out. Said I showed a ‘lack of consideration'; ‘er whatever.” Peter paused, brows furrowed. In Metal Gear, Snake perished yet again. Peter rolled his eyes once more, “She’s kinda mental, though. это возмутительно (it’s outrageous).”

Your only response was a quiet hum of acknowledgement. Peter broke the silence that followed.

“Hey, you’re not busy today, are you? Wanna do somethin’ later?” He asked, knowing full well you had jack shit to do.

“I don’t know. I’m feeling soooooo lazy today.” You playfully teased.

The soft pattern of your breathing sent electric tingles down Peter’s neck. Shuddering, he shook off those unexpected chills. Another beat, and Peter groaned, as Snake perished over a low poly landscape. You gotta take it slow and stealthy, man - Peter reminded himself.

“Хорошо (okay)? So? Come be lazy over here then.” He replied, “Tell you what. If you do, I’ll go ‘n snag some of those Turkish delights you like. The same ones my mom gotcha for your birthday. Remember? From Sokovia?”

Your voice perked up instantly, bringing a cheesy smile to his face. Homely fondness simmered in his chest, and Peter felt himself blush. He pulled his lip between his teeth, pausing his game to focus more on conversation. Leaving Snake stranded in the middle of the snow.

“Oh my gosh!! No way?? I haven’t had those in forever! Seriously, the ones from Sokovia?” You chimed.

“Hell yeah! But you gotta get outta bed first, dingus. C’monnnn.” Peter whined, “I’m so bored here, babe. Oh! I totally forgot. I finally got my hands on a Gameboy Color too. Swear on my life I paid for it this time. You could come over ‘n try it ouuuuuut.” He teased in a sing-song voice, wiggling his brows.

“Gameboys and Turkish delights? You’re spoiling me today, Peter! What’s the occasion?” You joked over the line.

He shrugged, forgetting you couldn’t see him, “Bored outta my friggin’ skull. That’s what.” After a beat, he awkwardly added, “And maybe I like hangin’ with you? Do I even need a reason?”

“Well, I gotta admit…you had me at Turkish delights.” You feigned a dreamy tone.

Peter chuckled again. Under his breath, he muttered softly, “ Это все, что тебе нужно, да (That’s all you need, huh)?”

“Huh?” You asked, oblivious to his comment, “What’d you say? I didn’t catch that last part.”

Peter ran a hand through his silver locks, leaving his hair loose and messy. Cradling the phone in his other hand, he knitted his lips to one side.

“Nothin’. Don’t worry about it. You want me to come get you? ‘Cuz I can.” He checked his digital watch, decked out in a Star Wars theme, “I can right now, if you-”

“It’s fine. I love going out with you, but I really don’t wanna deal with motion sickness today. I just had lunch too. No offense!” Another yawn rang over the phone, hitching into a squeal at the end. Peter didn’t realize he was smiling so big until his cheeks started to hurt, “I’ll just drive over. Sound good?”

Peter rolled his eyes, sarcastically groaning. He threw his head back into the sofa cushions, playing up his fake frustrations.

“Auuuuuuugh! But that’ll take years.” He dragged a hand down his face, pulling his cheeks under his fingertips, “Is this ‘cuz you blew chunks last time?? You know that doesn’t bother me, right? Everyone does it, babe.”

You made a noise of disgust. Something like an eugh , “Please, don’t remind me. That sucked so much. Yeah, no, I’d rather not. I really need a break from it.” You sighed again. Kind of a bummer, but he could deal.

“It’s whatever you want, I guess. So, when are you gonna head out?” Peter asked, sitting up on the sofa and putting the controller aside.

He bounced a leg at rapid speed, his knee moving in a flesh tone blur of motion. Less from agitation, more due to anticipation.

“I’ll leave soon. Just give me a few minutes. Think you can wait?” You chuckled in that sweet, quirky way again. The melody gave Peter butterflies. Ignoring the fluttering in his belly, he pushed himself off the couch. Grabbing the base of the Garfield phone, Peter cradled the lil guy in an arm. He figured he may as well get dressed, and freshen up before you arrived, “It’s so cold today. I haven’t even gotten out of bed yet! I’m still bundled up in my undies. Got your jacket on too. You left a Game n Watch in the pocket, by the way. I didn’t even know they still made those!”

“Yeah. I totally called that one. Get up already, ya slacker.” Peter joked trapping the phone between his cheek and shoulder again. He scratched his bare chest. His fingertips grazed the sparse covering of white hairs there. Yawning, he nodded, “Okay. Okay. Okay. Sure, just-”

Something about your last statement finally clicked in Peter’s brain. He rapidly blinked, shaking his head fast enough to give himself whiplash. Peter did a quadruple take.

“Подожди (wait)! Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, waiiiiiit …hold on a sec.” He narrowed his eyes, “Say that again?”

“Say what again? The part about the Game n Watch?” You asked, and Peter’s brows furrowed.

“N-Nah. The…did you just…have you been lyin’ around in your underwear this whole time?”

“Uh, yeah? Why? Is this revolutionary information?” You chuckled.

“In my jacket? Like, I didn’t hear that wrong? What’d you like…sleep in it ‘er somethin’?” Peter arched a silver brow, pressing the phone handset closer to his cheek. As if doing so might somehow help him hear you more clearly.

It really wasn’t that big of a deal either way. You borrowed his jackets all the time. Peter never thought anything of it before this conversation. Aside from the fact that - when you did return them, he loved the sweet scent you left behind. The smell of your perfume, with the added bonus of your natural pheromones…

Ебать (Fuck)! Why was he even thinking about this? The two of you had such a casual thing goin’ on. But now, Peter thought of you in a different light. Something friskier. Not that he meant to. Maybe killer boredom + cute friend = horny speedster. Or perhaps the planets aligned in some totally off-the-wall way.

Whatever the case, Peter’s mind raced on autopilot. He pictured the way you might look right now. In your room, spread across your bed in nothing but your underwear and - Ебена мать (Holy shit) - his jacket. With your long legs bare, your knees bumping together as you squeezed your thighs shut. Tummy exposed. And your tits-

Woooooooah there! Slow down, casanova! Peter shouldn’t be…nah, he really shouldn’t be wondering what your breasts looked like. Ppfffbbbbt …’kay, so, maybe in the past he thought about it once or twice. But what dude wouldn't contemplate the hidden mystery of a pal's titties sometimes, ah?

“Well, so what if I did? That doesn’t weird you out, does it?” You asked, a careful waver in your voice.

“Uhhhh…nahhh, babe. Just…” Peter shifted in place, rerouting his thoughts, “Just…got one hell of an image in my head. Might’ve pictured you like that for no particular reason at all.”

Lucky for him, you didn’t seem to think anything of his confession.

“Not much to imagine…” You replied. Сомнительно (Doubtful).

“I mean…pffbbbttt…sure, yeah. Maybe not.” Peter awkwardly laughed, scratching the back of his neck. His voice dropped, a little more hushed, “Unless…you’re wearin’ some really cute panties over there.” Again, he laughed, rushing out a quick, “I’m kiddin’. I’m kiddin’. I’m kiddin’. I’m totally messin’. Just bustin’ your balls, babe.”

Except…he sorta wasn’t. Peter found himself oh-so curious. Twisting the phone's orange wire around his finger, he anticipated your reaction. Anxious you might think him weird for pushing things too far. Never had the two of you charted this kind of territory. It was a minefield, with a 95% chance neither one would make it out unscathed.

“I guess? I think they’re kind of cute.” You added, innocent as ever. Awesome. You weren’t peeved at him, at least. Peter brought the phone to his chest, exhaling an anxious breath to calm his racing heart. When he put the phone to his ear again, he figured you’d moved on. But your cadence shifted. To test the boundaries of your friendship, you teased, “They’re pretty small on me, though.”

Ah. Ah. Интересно. Очень интересно (Interesting. Very interesting). What an unexpected but totally wicked development. Peter lowered himself slowly onto the couch, setting the phone's base on the side table. He eased backwards into the cushions, and tightened his twisting of the phone wire. Swallowing hard, Peter found he had difficulty focusing. Especially with his imagination running so goddamn wild.

“Yeah? …How small is pretty small?” He dared to ask.

Long seconds of silence ticked by at the pace of a narcoleptic sloth. If Peter weren’t so eager to hear what you had to say, he may have torn his hair out. Over the line, you laughed.

“Small enough they barely cover my ass? Why are you so curious all of a sudden?” You cooed.

Peter fluttered his inky eyes, nibbling chapped skin on his lip. Fuzzy pink swarmed the rest of his face, as his mind conjured images of you so effortlessly. Clear as day. Heat stirred to life in his groin, and Peter pictured the way your plush cheeks might hold in tight painties. His breath hitched.

“I-uh…” Peter felt the heat in his cheeks creep down his neck, flustered at lightspeed, “Just thinkin’...maybe you should do somethin’ about that?” He gritted his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. What a lame response, “Черт возьми (damn it)!” He huffed under his breath, too quiet for you to hear.

Toying with this newly discovered sexual tension, Peter humorously asked-

“Sooooooo…what color?”

You giggled into the receiver, airy and light. His body registered the noise somewhere , down south of his belly. He wondered if you were as flustered as him. And the visual of your bashful face and shy smile had his heartbeat ramping up to mach 10.

“What? A-Are you for real asking me…oh my god, dude!” Your giggles turned into goofy snorts. Which he found so endearing. Once you composed yourself, you spoke again. Though, your tone came off as more flirtatious, “If you really wanna know so bad…then fine. They’re black. Lacy. With a little bow on the front.”

Дерьмо (Shit)...

His silver brows soared high, disappearing under his bangs. Paying little attention to his instinctive actions, Peter guided his free hand between his thighs. Inwardly, he told himself he was only adjusting his uncomfortable hard-on. ‘Cuz it’d be totally weird if he did anything else…right? Best to ignore the movement of his thumb, as it absentmindedly circled his bulge.

“Huh…that’s so…” Peter blinked, clearing his throat and masking his nerves with a chuckle, “‘Kay, I’ll be up front with you, babe. That sounds cute as hell. Very nice.”

“Really? Oh, please, Peter. They’d be cute on anybody.” You scoffed.

“Uh huh…” He smirked, dropping his tone even lower, “‘Cept, now that I’m really thinkin’ about it? I’m bettin’ they look criminally cute on you.” Peter lazily smirked.

You laughed, breathless like you ran a thousand miles, “Wh-...what are we even doing right now? Seriously, why am I talking to you about my-” The uneasiness in your voice bled through the line.

Your concern was for good reason. Nevertheless, Peter interrupted you mid-sentence.

“Easy there, chuckles. We’re just chatting. Nothin’ too unusual, right? We’ve had some seriously raunchy conversations before. Remember? That time I got laid on a golf course? You told me about that time some dude shot a load in your eye. What’s the difference, anyway?” Peter grimaced, as he recalled your story from eons ago.

You giggled yet again, “Peter, you know damn well what the difference is!” You clarified with a sigh, still playful. The phone wire went slack around his finger, as Peter second guessed himself. He parted his lips, on the cusp of apologizing. Bringing one hand up to the phone, he held it loosely. Your sugary voice chimed again, “I’m kinda wondering, though…what would you think if I told you I’m topless right now?”

His grip compressed around the handset.

“Topless, huh?” Peter cast a quick glance at his hard-on, twitching painfully under his boxers. His mind jumped straight to sinful places again. Peter thought about what your tits probably look like, embraced in his jacket. Nipples hard, grazing the inner-lining. He swallowed, “What’re you tryna tell me? You gonna drive over here in nothin’ but that?” Peter quipped.

A more sultry laugh melted through the receiver. Peter trembled, as your smooth voice coaxed him like a tempting song. His free palm squeezed his bulge, putting pressure to his length over fabric. Peter’s brows turned inward, and he fluttered his eyes shut.

“I guess that wouldn’t be so bad, if it wasn’t so cold outside. It’s freezing today. I don’t know how you can run as fast as you do when the weather’s like this.” Your tone disguised itself with lighthearted innocence again, “It’s not any warmer in my room either. My nipples could cut glass. They’re, like, soooo hard.”

Peter adjusted himself on the sofa, giving the swell of his bulge another teasing squeeze.

“ Ты маленькая соблазнительница (you little temptress)...” His hot breath fanned the phone.

“I love it when you talk like that…” You replied, “Even if I have no idea what you’re saying. It sounds really hot, to be totally honest.”

“Oh, yeah?” Peter teased his lip with his teeth, speaking in a more flirtatious voice; buttery smooth, “ Я забыл вынести мусор (I forgot to take out the trash)...” For added effect - just to embarrass you more - he tacked on a husky moan.

Peter made himself blush, as the sound came out far more pornagraphic than he intended. The rasp of his voice scraped through the line in a hushed, “ Oh, yeah, baby. ”

The erotic tension you felt from his teasing was palpable, even over the phone. Peter could sense the shift in the way you gasped. So faint, so shy, so cute.

“Oh…oh, wow...uhm…” You tried concealing your bashfulness with more of those candy coated giggles. But Peter could practically hear the blood racing to your cheeks, “What’s that mean? Something good, I hope.”

Peter bit his tongue, lips turning in a cheeky grin.

“It means you’re really turnin’ me on…”

Another hesitant pause fell between the two of you, before you scoffed.

“Oh my god, no it doesn’t! I can hear you laughing!” You griped, snickering along with Peter. A few more tension heavy beats pulsed over the line. You spoke again, “Hey…I’m sorry. Can I put things on pause for a sec? I just wanted to ask…are you okay with this?”

“Are you?” Peter gently asked, giving you ample time to think about it.

“I don’t know…maybe…” You whispered, “Isn’t this, like, super weird for you?”

“I mean…suuuuuuure. It’s totally weird. If you kept goin', I wouldn't be into it...at all...” He bullied you with a playful edge, hoping you could read the flirtatious undertone in his voice.

“Ohhhhh…you wouldn't be?” Judging by the saucy lilt in your voice, you most definitely caught on, “You know what would be even weirder?”

Peter adjusted on the sofa again. Getting comfortable, he laid on his back. His taut legs stretched across the cushions, and Peter propped his head on the couch’s arm.

“Whazzat? Enlighten me, babe. I’m listenin’. You got my full attention.” He teased.

“Your full attention, huh? I must be doing something right.” You snickered, “So…you know how I said I love it when you talk…like that?” Your voice wavered, “What I really meant was-uhm…when you do that on the phone…it makes me kind of horny.”

His brown hues burst open, wider than ever. Peter’s pupils dilated, expanding as far as the universe itself. He swallowed again, his mouth falling open. Your filthy confession set his arousal ablaze, making his dick twitch. As heated desire took over, Peter couldn’t restrain himself. He snuck his fingers under the waistband of his boxers, fingertips gliding over silver hairs. A small piece of him almost felt guilty for doing so.

“It does, huh? Хорошо знать (Good to know).” Peter whispered, tenderly grasping his shaft.

You made a naughty squeak of a noise in response, “Y-Yeah, Peter, I’m serious. You really have to stop doing that.”

“Почему (Why)? Are you soakin’ yourself over it? Gettin’ a lil wet? It’s cool. You can tell me…” Peter heckled, expelling a breath as he gave his dick a single tug.

“Oh, I bet you wanna know all about that, huh? You’re so bad, Quickie...” You teased, clicking your tongue.

Peter’s ears burned, turning pink as he took in the coquettish nature of your voice. Scoffing, he feigned his indignance.

“What?! Hey, nah nah nah! You started this! Это несправедливо, черт возьми (it’s not fair. Dammit)!” Peter laughed, carefree with you as always, “You can’t seriously drop a bombshell like that and expect me not to-”

“Not to come running?” You hummed, sweet tempered, “I’m just messing with you, baby. But since we’re on the topic…I made such a mess of these little panties. Just from listening to your voice.”

Peter couldn’t even pretend he didn’t like the sound of ‘baby’ on your tongue.

“Oh, man…anything but the panties…” He joked, “You should-uh…you should save yourself some trouble. Y’know…take ‘em off, maybe? Might be more comfortable.” Peter hinted, playing nonchalant, “Just tryna be a good friend. Give you some advice. You should for sure take it.”

“But I’m already so cold…” You whimpered, “Your jacket’s so warm. Smells good too. Really good. But it’s not enough to keep me covered.” You spoke with flirtatious innocence, and Peter played along.

“No harm done, принцесса (princess). I’ll warm you up if you need me to.” He reassured, sweet talking you over the phone, “Ты думаешь, что я не позабочусь о тебе? (Do you think I won't take care of you)?" Peter mumbled again. He listened to your sickly sweet laughs, before asking, “So…do you get like this every time we talk on the phone?”

“Mmmm…maybe.” You hummed, “What if I said yes?” You shuffled around again, and Peter’s mind jumped elsewhere. He imagined you shed yourself of damp, black lace. Leaving you wanton and needy in nothing but his jacket, “You know…we’ve been talking about me a lot this whole time. You wanna tell me what you’re wearing? I don’t really have a visual.”

“Oh…me?” Your request caught Peter off guard.

“Yeah, you. Who else, blockhead?” You playfully quipped, smoothing your voice to say, “You don’t have to be shy. I just wanna know, so I can think about taking it off of you.”

Peter didn’t know he could blush this much. Puffing a bashful laugh, he looked down at his body. Mostly nude and toned enough. He had his x-gene to thank for his pecs and hard abs. A fluffy bouquet of silver hairs peeked out from his boxers. Underneath, his dick throbbed, pressing eagerly into fabric.

“Uhm…I’m not wearin’ a lot? Nothin’ special. Just some black, boxer briefs, I guess. Wait, no-” Peter lifted a foot, his lips curling in a goofy smile, “Got my Star Wars socks on too.”

A sensual moan graced his ears, “That’s so hot.” You softly whined, “Star Wars socks? Peter, just take me now.”

Despite the fact you were totally messing with him, that playful comment made his chest tight.

“Nothing else though?” You pressed.

“Nnnnnnnnnnope.” He drew out the word, popping the P, “Just the-uh…yeah. Boxers ‘n sexy socks. Not much to take off.”

“And you’re pretty fit, aren’t you? You always looked really jacked to me, so-” You said.

Peter cocked a brow, snickering to cover his embarrassment.

“Wooooahhh…you been checkin’ me out, babe?” He asked, darting his dark hues across his athletic bod. Peter flexed an arm, “Sure, I guess I’m in decent shape.” He found he couldn’t dismiss your compliments. Peter looked good, and he knew it. But he preferred hearing it from you, “Hey, you wanna know somethin’, like, way crazy?”

“This? What we’re doing right now is so crazy, right?” You laughed, sounding as bashful as him.

Peter snickered, “True. Truuuue. But, uh…” He shrank in his spot on the couch, pressing the vibrant handset closer into his cheek. Pre-cum seeped through his boxers, as Peter tugged his dick steady and slow. Careful not to stimulate himself too much yet. He dropped his voice to a hushed rasp, “I’m kinda in the same spot you are right now. If you-uh…if you catch my drift.”

The two of you knew each other for a long time. Several years, in fact. But never once did Peter think he’d hear his closest pal say-

“Ohhhh. Are you hard right now, baby?”

Oh. Yeah, this buddy-buddy friendship was in major trouble. Doomed to crash and burn. As soon as the words fell from your lips, spoken in your honeyed voice; Peter’s breath hitched in his throat. He sank his teeth so hard into his lip, he almost broke skin.

“Y-Yeah. Since you-uh…started talkin’ about your panties. I’m sorry, babe. Just been kinda bored and worked up all day.” He sheepishly chuckled.

“You poor baby…” You coddled him over the phone. And while he should’ve been embarrassed, Peter had no problem with you talking like that, “Can I ask how big you are?”

Peter stalled for a moment, before pulling the front of his boxers down. His hardness flopped against his belly, pulsating and ruddy from his teasing. Taking his aching length in his hand, he rubbed the underside with his thumb.

“You mean my dick? It’s-uhhhh…like six, maybe seven inches almost?” He squeezed his cock, milking beads of pre-cum, “But size doesn’t matter, yeah? It’s the motion of the ocean, babe.”

“Noooooo, baby. You’re so perfect. Wish I could see how good you look like that…” You cooed over the phone.

Your kindly words and airy tone made the veins in his dick throb with electric heat. Peter clutched his cock tight, pumping the velvet skin a touch faster. Giving himself just a simple taste of relief. His stomach clenched, hardening his abs.

“Не так идеально, как ты выглядишь (Not as perfect as you look)...” Peter muttered, drawing in a shallow breath, “Babe, I gotta tell ya, I’m really feelin’ this. I’m so into you right now. W-Want you to keep talkin’ like-uh...”

His imagination took his depravity to the next level. Now, Peter thought about joining you in your room. He wondered how soft and smooth your skin would feel. Supple and hot under his fingertips. What might you look like writhing under him, whimpering as he played with you? As he teased you? Man, you were both so screwed.

“Never thought dirty talking with me would turn you on so much…” You giggled.

Peter secured the handset between his cheek and shoulder. With both hands free, he raised his palm to his lips. He drew a long stripe with his tongue, bringing his damp hand to his cock. The slick lubrication pulled a gentle moan from his throat.

“M-Maybe a little bit. Ебать (Fuck), maybe a lot.” Peter groaned, labored in his breathing, “Can you - Ебать (fuck) - you wanna do somethin’ for me? Just a little favor between friends? S’all I’m askin’, baby.”

“Anything you want, Peter.” You mewled.

“Can you- mmmmohgod -” Peter choked up. He almost chickened out, but pushed himself to ask, “Can you touch yourself for me? Please? Пожалуйста, моя маленькая принцесса (Please, my little princess)...” His foreign whispers weaved pretty whimpers from your lips.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that, if you want me to. But you have to do the same for me too. It’s only fair, right? Equal exchange?” You whispered, acting playful again.

Peter breathed a guilty chuckle, “Uhm…yeahhhhh…about that…”

You softly gasped, “Have you been-”

“Playin’ with my dick this whole time? Maybe.” Peter admitted. His thumb caught another pearl of pre, spreading the slickness over his sensitive head, “But I’m not, like, totally jerkin’ it yet…” He lied, pressing you to encourage him.

“Oh, you’re not, huh? What are you doing then?” You asked, “Are you being a bad boy, Pietro?” The abrupt drop of his given name shocked him into silence.

Peter felt his groin tighten, and an exhilarating rush electrified his nerves. For the thousandth time, you giggled. And for the thousandth time, Peter’s heart leapt. Dumbfounded, he gathered his composure and played along again.

“Y-Yeah. So bad. You gotta help me, babe. I’m just-...I’m so hard. Don’t think I can stop myself if you keep talkin’ like that.”

Through the receiver, Peter’s ears caught wind of a needy mewl. He gripped his cock hard, guiding his fist in firmer strokes. His legs quivered, and the heels of his Star Wars socks slid across the couch.

“Does it feel good when you touch your pretty cock like that, sweetheart?” You cooed.

Peter almost went straight into cardiac arrest. He jolted in place, feeling his cock stiffen in his grasp.

“Святой трах (Holy fuck)..." Peter suffocated on his own groans. For an instant, his words failed him, “Uhmmm…hah…wow-uh…Ебать (fuck). Feels good, yeah. Don’t think it’s enough. I need-...uhm…I want-uh…”

“Yeah? What do you want, baby. It’s okay.” You spoke so sugary sweet again.

“I-...Я просто хочу увидеть тебя (I just want to see you)...” Peter’s veins tingled under his touch, as he tugged his dick with more urgency, “Shit! I-...how come I never knew you could be like this-” And to Peter’s ultimate humiliation, he whimpered your name. Along with another whiny, “ Ебать (Fuck). ”

“Like what?” Your coy voice teased him over the line.

“I dunno…so-uh…so damn nasty.” He joked, and even through the phone; he knew he had you flustered again.

“I guess we all have our secrets, hmm? Tell me more, Pietro. When you touch yourself like that. With those big, strong hands…how’s it feel?” You asked, driving him to keep going.

Peter snorted a laugh, “Strong hands? What??” His endearing playfulness took a backseat, as he grunted into the receiver, “God…feels like my strong hand’s not enough. Мне реально тебе нужно прямо сейчас. Нужна так сильно (I really need you right now. I need you so much).” His voice fell to a whisper. Pumping his slick, crimson cock through his fist, he breathlessly pleaded, “Talk to me, baby. Please. Tell me-ohhh…tell me what you’re doin’ over there.”

You squealed a sultry giggle, further igniting Peter’s pleasured frenzy. He squirmed in his spot on the sofa, forcing himself to stay put. Battling the forces of the universe, it was all Peter could do not to race to your room. Just to spread your legs and hump you like a speedy bunny.

“Mmmm…I’m just doing what you asked me to…I’m being so good for you right now.” You whimpered.

“Oh. Okay…uhm…far out. Uh…wanna gimme the steamy details?” He heckled again, fumbling his words in his nervousness, “Please, don’t hold off on me, baby.”

“I’m…” Your precious voice wavered, teeming with awkwardness as your confidence dwindled, “I’m playing with my little pussy. Just for you. And I’m so wet. I can’t stop thinking about your hands…so big…”

“Боже мой (my god).” Peter muttered. Combating impatience brought upon by his genes, he willed himself to take things slow. His strokes became steady and teasing, as he edged his aching cock, “Holy shit, babe. Yeah? Keep goin’...”

You moaned soft squeals into the receiver, “I want you so bad, Quickie. Please, baby, don’t make me beg. Can you touch this little pussy for me? Please? Your fingers are so big. I don’t think they’d fit all at once. It’s been a while, and I’m so tight.” Your naughty voice pleaded.

“God, I wanna touch you so bad. Я хочу прикоснуться к этой сладкой киске (I want to touch that sweet pussy).” Peter’s impatience got the better of him, and he quickly gave in. He grasped his cock hard, wringing himself fast enough to make his balls bounce. Creasing his brows, he groaned, “Ohhh..What’re you tryna to do to me, babe? Talkin’ about how tight you are…Ебать…”

“But I ammmm.” You whined again, “I’m squeezing my tiny fingers so tight. It’s so soft and hot for you. Bet it’d feel really good if you stretched me. With your fingers, with your cock - fuck, Pietro. I just need you, baby.”

“Please, baby, oh, please? Wanna be inside you. Wanna feel you. I promise I won’t go too fast. Я обещаю (I promise).” Peter whimpered. But as you mewled again, another forceful wave of carnal heat crashed over Peter. In a quieter tone, he choked, “Нет, я могу. Я пойду так быстро (No, I can. I’ll go so fast).”

“Pietro, you can go as fast as you want, baby. I won’t stop you.” You pleaded, your broken voice so kittenish and wanton, “F-Fuck. I’m rubbing my clit. So sensitive. Thinking about you. Thinking about your mouth on me.”

“Ебать!!” Peter moaned through clenched teeth. His self control rapidly abandoned him. Speedily rutting his sore cock through the squeeze of his fist, his body refused to slow down, “Говоря о скорости (Speaking of speed)...” Peter craned his neck back, raising a hand to keep the handset to his ear, “You gotta stop makin’ all those cute noises, baby. Please…I can’t-”

As surges of horny pleasure circulated through his body, Peter thought of you again. He imagined you on your bed, caged under him between his arms. In his daydreams, he kissed you intimately, touching your pretty, naked body. Peter wanted to feel how wet you were for himself. And hell, the danger of pushing your friendship past its limits made you more tempting. Such a lewd, risky thought pushed him closer to the edge of something righteous.

“Baby, I wanna see you. Can I? Can I see you stroke that thick cock? Would you let me? Ohh, fuck, Pietro.” You whimpered. And your noises were so shamelessly lecherous, you could’ve made a pornstar blush, “Can I kiss it, please? Can I kiss your big cock?” You whimpered.

“О боже мой, пожалуйста (Oh my god, please)!” Peter choked, every word hitching in his throat, “Baby…babe, you can’t do this. Ya really can’t be-” He laughed lazily, his dark eyes falling half lidded. His cock throbbed, bright red and turning purple at the tip. He rutted in a speedy blur, “Stop. Stop. Stop. I’m gonna…babe, I’m gonna bust-” He slurred.

You squealed his name as loudly as your hushed voice would allow. And Peter swore he could hear the slick sound of your fingers. As they played with your pretty, little cunt.

“I’m gonna cum, baby. Please cum with me. Please? Pietro, OH~!”

“я кончаю, я кончаю (I’m cumming, I’m cumming)! ‘M Gonna-” Peter’s moans seeped through the receiver, his wet lips parting and mouth hanging open.

His swollen cock erupted in white-hot jets, coating his pecs and belly. With all his muscles tensed, Peter’s legs trembled. He rode out those lusty waves in tandem with you. The pleasure of orgasm sounded leagues more intense on your side. You took longer to cruise through it, whimpering and moaning Peter’s name. As you did, Peter basked in his momentary afterglow. Keeping the phone pressed to his ear, his head resting on the arm of the sofa; he listened to you with a smirk on his lips. At the end of your journey in ecstasy, your moans turned into flustered giggles.

Peter's thoughts reeled him in again. Imagining you, looking so sheepish and fine in his jacket. Now, he desperately wanted the real deal. To see you in all your post-nut glory. Mere seconds later, his sore cock pulsed to life again. As his hardness squirmed on his belly, Peter breathed another sigh.

On his end, you heard nothing but silence. You kept calling his name, your tired voice infused with anxiety.

“Uhm…Peter? Hey…are you there?” You asked.

And he didn't say a single word more.

#peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #txt #im terrified this is like...not as decent as my usual but whatever !!

852 notes · View notes

saijspellhart · 2 months ago

Text

Guys, buy physical media it’s dying. They are taking it from us.

My local Meijer (a regional variant of Walmart) has stopped selling physical media. Like outright. It’s now gift cards for streaming services, and online shit. They are phasing out physical video games too. They are phasing out laptops, DVDs players, blueray players.

I know, I know, streaming services are so easy and convenient. But like, you don’t own it. You are at the mercy of the services. Once they kill physical media completely they can hike up the prices as steep as they like, $30, $40, $50 and more a month. Because it will be the ONLY way (short of pirating) that you can watch shows and movies. They will make it cable and satellite premium levels of expensive. And you won’t be able to stop them. They’ll hold your favorite shows hostage behind paywalls and micro transactions. They’ll vault up shows and movies and make them unavailable for long periods of time. You’ll have to have 7 different streaming services all costing $40 bucks a pop to watch the things you want.

You’ll have access to NOTHING without paying a premium. And remember, you already pay money to have an internet connection. Are streaming services really as affordable as you think? Internet price + the price of each service? That adds up. And they keep raising the price, and will keep raising the prices, because they know you’ll keep paying.

Having physical media means you get to watch your favorite shows and movies anytime. With or without internet connection. Broke as fuck? You can still watch it, because it’s yours. Did they lock up your favorite show or movie to make it more exclusive? You can still watch it with physical media because you own it. Want to let your friend borrow it? You can lend it to them, or burn them a copy. No need to fret about stupid services cracking down on password sharing. Want to watch the movie or show with online friends? You can stream DVDs over Discord so friends can watch with you.

(Am currently streaming Teen Titans the original animated series with my best friend over Discord. It’s mine, so neither of us pay anything to watch it together.)

Companies are writing off physical media as unprofitable. They are culling it. Taking it out of stores, making it less accessible.

People around me talk about all these movies and tv series they’d love to watch, but have to buy another streaming service to access it. And I offer to let them borrow the DVDs or Blueray, and they straight up tell me they don’t own DVDs or dvd players. Why?! WHY!? They subscribe to 4 or 5 different service instead forking out $50+ a month. But they put themselves at the mercy of these services, at the mercy of internet connectivity and access. They can’t even borrow a movie or show from me, because they are so dependent on internet and streaming.

Did you know there are literally ways to save your movies digitally and take them on the go? Streaming should be a neat little thing that’s convenient, it has its perks and uses, but it should NOT the only way to watch media.

Save physical media.

Buy a dvd player.

Buy movies.

Buy shows.

Own your media.

Stop renting it. Streaming is just glorified rental.

Stop renting it.

Because soon that’s all you’ll ever be able to do.

#Netflix #hulu #Disney+#streaming services #streaming #physical media #movies #tv shows #shows #cartoons #dvds #Blueray #accessibility #affordability #concern #please save physical media

146 notes · View notes

undead-supernova · 8 months ago

Text

It's My Body and It Hates You / Masterlist

plot: memories are resurfacing. you thought that you were getting better. he wasn't haunting you now that you are with eddie. but, fuck, healing is just not that linear.

pairing: boyfriend!Eddie x afab!reader

important notes: this is about healing from previous sexual assault. this is as self-serving as it gets!!! and it can be HIGHLY TRIGGERING for other victims! but i thought maybe if someone else has gone through this before too, they could find comfort in it.

hate that I have to add this but please be respectful of my experiences. I have cowered away from posting this for months, but I think I should be allowed the right to shine a light on these issues and what intimacy looks like post-trauma.

wc: 3.4k

song reference: Everybody Loves You by Charlotte Lawrence (which has helped with my healing so so much over the last few years)

It starts the moment you wake up.

The remembering.

It’s his cerulean eyes you think about first, nearly glossed over with the glare of the morning light. The way it used to, at least. It made everything inside you soften; made everything slow down.

Back in the early days. Back when it didn’t fill you with melancholy. Back when you thought being in love meant to be in constant fear.

Way before you ever met someone like Eddie. Way before you knew that good men existed.

You look over to find Eddie gone already, having promised to help set up for a parade at the local middle school Nancy works at. He’s been teaching some of her students how to play guitar, even going so far as to buy them some cables and help update the sheet music they stashed in a closet.

Eddie’s good like that.

Generous. Observant. Selfless.

And it’s awful, but you wish he’d stayed home. Because something in you is starting to fall apart and it’s not pretty. It’s not palatable like they show on TV.

No, it’s something much more visceral.

It’s been almost four years since it started, since you fell into a not-so-serious relationship with some guy that turned into something sinister.

All of the running around and the secrets kept from your friend group that (not so surprisingly) doesn’t exist anymore. The ones who were so sure you were just obsessed with him. The ones who still talked to him after.

You were supposed to only have sex. That was it.

But, of course, what’s a little sex without his longing glances and soft embrace and sleeping over and early morning kisses? Sweet nothings, cuddles and hand holding?

But, no. He swore it to be friendship, just something casual. Even when he told you three separate times throughout your time together that he wanted something more. But it was fleeting, backtracking a day or two later to say he just wasn’t ready for a relationship. Ghosted you for two weeks, maybe a month at the most. Come back with a few sexts and suddenly you were fucking again.

No strings, he’d say. We can’t be in a relationship.

So you stayed that way. Kept everything inside the best you could. Stood in the mirror with your lips sewn shut, tears trickling down your cheeks as if every teardrop was another regret. Smiled as much as you could, waiting for him to look away before you allowed yourself to let it falter.

And then there was the sex. That’s all anyone cared about in relationships, right? Not the person, just the body. Just the sexual object, a mere paperweight for the other to use.

The sex hurt from the beginning, his fingers never fitting right. His mouth always just a little bit too rough. But, fuck, it just always seemed to hurt. So you never truly finished, always faking it and finishing in the shower afterwards.

But you loved him. You loved the way he held you afterwards, the way his back shone in the morning light whenever he slept over. The fun little bickering back and forth whenever he was coming down from the dopamine rush. Ordering in and laughing at each other when stealing fries became a full-on wrestling match.

And at some point.

Well.

You stopped receiving.

He’d try to arouse you, but ultimately it was always to please him. He was always too tired afterwards anyways. And though you wanted to stop, you just…did it anyways. You would sit there, reminding yourself that it would stop once you got him off.

When it ends, it’ll be okay. He’ll stay. He’ll finally tell you he loves you. Just hold on. Just keep doing that and he’ll finish and then you’ll be fine. Just a few more minutes. Just do this. Just do that.

Just, just, just…

It’s fine.

Until it didn’t feel fine. Until he berated you one day, saying that the two of you couldn’t have sex every day and that your “friendship” was getting out of hand. That you wanted too much from him even though he was the one who initiated.

Because, like with your emotions, you’d learned that if you attempted to initiate sex, the answer was no.

And so he yelled. And yelled. And yelled. Until you were sitting on the couch watching one of his lame TV shows and his hand ghosted over to your thigh. Stroked it. Gave you that look. Leaned in. Kissed you. Wrapped his fingers around your jaw and brought you back in unexpectedly.

This happened more times than you like to admit.

When he finally decided to commit, it lasted a month.

And, god, was it was a shitty month.

He introduced you to his mother who really didn’t care enough to ask you any questions about yourself and even made it a point to say that you and her son were very different—almost too different. When you told your friends, they weren’t happy for you. They were confused, even. He never talked about you, so how were you now suddenly dating?

He never wanted to go on dates, never gave you anything special that he hadn’t stolen. Only called you beautiful between the sheets and told you he loved you in whispers. Even told you that telling him you miss him was manipulation, guilt tripping him into feeling bad for being gone.

So you stopped saying it. Stopped thinking about it. Started telling yourself to be grateful that he was still there.

When he dumped you that final time, on April 1st of all days, you’d laughed hysterically. It was the moment you realized that this was all he’d ever be. All he’d ever do. You saw all the patterns and the seduction and the manipulation and the fucking fucking and knew that this was a vicious cycle that would never end unless you were the one to cut the cord.

And, well, you’d already snapped.

You thought that everything had been consensual. That you’d wanted it. Even though you didn’t, not one bit. You just wanted him to stay.

But it couldn’t have been rape. No, not at all.

But, like, you didn’t want it and you most definitely felt taken advantage of every single time and he definitely touched you whenever he wanted you to fuck him and get your arousal to distract you and the word coercion definitely sat in your mouth all funny and…

It had to be consensual.

Right?

For two years, you thought you’d never go near romance again.

When you met Eddie, a friend of a friend, you were so confused by how gentle he was. Always having a smile for you, always telling your friend that he enjoyed your presence. He gave you little presents, like stickers and rocks from conventions and comic book stores. A few amethysts after you told him they were your favorite. Learned your coffee order and your favorite foods.

If you were hanging out, you were playing video games or board games with his friends or laughing or giggling or swapping embarrassing secrets or, or or...

His friends would leak in every now and then, filling up cups and hosting potlucks galore. Steve, Robin, and Nancy made sure to affirm your solidified place in their lives while Gareth, Grant, and Jeff made sure you were a key member in campaigns.

And Eddie was always there at the end of those nights, washing your dishes and collecting trash just so you could catch some sleep.

It was such a stark contrast from the friend group you’d been in before.

And, fuck, you’d never felt so free.

A few months into your friendship, Eddie made it clear that he had feelings for you. Asked if you were feeling the same way and that he’d fuck off if you told him to. When you laughed and said you kind of liked him back, he asked you out on a proper date, something you hadn’t had before.

He did that whole thing with the flowers and the tie and the car door and the restaurant door and the chair and the laughter and the nice champagne and the walking you up to your apartment.

His arms were behind his back, keeping a safe distance. Under the dim flickering light of the hallway, his dark irises met yours. You searched them for any sign of danger.

But they were gentle. Kind.

Warm.

And you stood there, waiting for him to kiss you or try to come in.

But he didn’t.

He’d said, “Could we do this again?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

He turned to walk back down the stairs. But you touched his shoulder.

“Wait, you’re not going to try to come in?”

Eddie merely smiled at you, tugging at the stray hairs leaving his bun. “Oh, uh. That’s not how I want to do things.”

“Really?”

He shook his head, still smiling. “Really. Sorry to disappoint—”

“No!” you exclaimed, maybe a little too loud. “No, I just. Um, no one’s ever— Anyways, it’s not important. I’m sorry. I’d love to go on a second date.”

You sat in bed that night, trying to ward away the nightmares creeping up. Feeling locked in place, feeling scared. Felt it in your arms. Your spine. Your cracked chest.

Feeling terrified that Eddie was just lying.

Feeling doubtful that this would ever be more than some hookup.

And yet, it became anything but that.

On your sixth date, you finally told him about your ex, trying to explain why you were the way you were. Why you flinched at any casual touch and why the idea of being intimate was scary for you. Why you’d been so hesitant with Eddie in the first place.

You rambled on and on, from the way you couldn’t even masturbate half of the time to avoiding porn because you flashed back to those moments. The ones where everything always had to hurt. The ones where you had to make yourself into a sex doll just to be seen. Just to have worth that ultimately meant nothing.

It was like your body was stuck, like it was empty and full of cobwebs. It was just the strangest sensation, like your body knew something you didn’t.

“It’s silly, I know,” you’d said. “I don’t know why it’s all still so scary for me. It’s not even a big deal.”

Eddie whispered your name then, hesitantly reaching his fingers out to skim yours. “And you have no idea why you feel this way?” he asked, an eyebrow lifting.

Yours furrowed. Softly, you asked, “What are you trying to say?”

“I think…” Eddie took a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily before gazing at you again. “Um, I think he raped you.”

He watched your eyes widen then.

And as the waves of grief washed through you that night, Eddie held onto you. His strong arms anchored you to the life you had now, the one you were living in spite of this horror.

But it didn’t mean any of this made sense. What had you done to deserve this? Where was your fault?

But, fuck, how could you have even known?

And why would that be your fault anyways?

“You don’t need to see this,” you’d sobbed, shaking your head. “I-I—”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence, heaving another sob before his arms tightened around you.

“You’re not alone,” he whispered, kissing your temple. “I’m here, okay?”

“I’m here.”

You cried the first time he made you cum.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he’d cooed. “It’s okay. You’re safe with me, I promise. Let it out.”

You nodded then, taking your tired arms and wrapping them around his neck. Pulled him closer, closer than you’d been with anyone. Hugged him tight. Kept him inside you. Tried to remind yourself that he wasn’t going to walk away. He was here with you. He was present.

Not too long after that, you’d been under him again, breathlessly thanking him.

Eddie had stilled inside you, leaning back to look into your glassy eyes.

“What for?” he’d asked.

“For being so sweet to me,” you responded, sniffling. “For letting me feel good.”

“Sweetheart, I—” Eddie got choked up on the words, getting teary-eyed himself. “You never have to thank me for making sure you feel good, alright?” You nodded. “I want you to feel good. Always.”

Nodding again, you asked, “Would you…keep going? Please?”

He smiled then, wiping the sides of his eyes. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Anything you want.”

“Thank you,” you’d said, taking his hand in yours. “Thank you.”

After that, Eddie approached things a bit differently.

Even when he was fucking the shit out of you, which you didn’t even know could actually feel good, he was so gentle. Kissed your face after you came two, three times before praising you.

“You did so good, baby. So, so good.”

“So proud of you.”

“You’re so beautiful. I bet you knew that already, though. Absolutely perfect.”

It started to stitch back together something inside you that you didn’t know could be mended.

Somehow, within the last six months, you stopped being able to have sex.

It came out of nowhere—all the flashbacks and panic attacks. The moments of arousal that seem to wash away seconds after it’s felt. Hell, even the thought of masturbation has started to make you sad again.

Your body recoils from that kind of intimacy now, even Eddie’s touch being clouded with the memory of Him. And you’re working on it. You are. Sometimes you have therapy twice a week just to talk about it and undo whatever it is that’s starting to worm its way into your every day life.

Despite it all, you still try doing little things with him so that you can enjoy yourselves, like getting off while lying next to each other. It always ends in giddy laughter and gentle cuddling. Soft kisses and the promise for another round later.

But recently you can’t help but feel like you’re something that weighs him down, keeps him from experiencing true pleasure. That you’re just a tattered and torn tapestry that holds no image anymore.

By the time Eddie gets home that night, you’re on your third glass of wine, silently crying in your shared living room. It’s not the best sight, your white t-shirt gone after you’d spilled the drink while trying to sit down. You’re naked, chest stained with the scarlet liquid from shaky fingers.

Eddie immediately throws the keys on the counter and rushes over to you.

“Hey, what happened? What’s going on?” He gently runs his fingers through your hair. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

You shake your head. “He’s back. In my head. I can’t get him out, Eddie. I can’t get him out.”

“Hey, come here. It’s going to be—”

He tries to wrap his arms around you, but it’s seconds before you’re pushing him away from you. You can’t feel Eddie tonight. No. You only feel Him. That monster, that unforgivable personification of hell.

“Stop! Stop!” you plead. “There’s so much pain. Just so much. I can’t keep doing this. It’s so painful.”

There’s nothing but those cobwebs inside you with little insects scurrying about. Maggots squirming in and out of your flesh. The hands, His hands that disemboweled you from the start, are still clawing at your ribcage. After all, He left you for dead, disgusting and discarded. Poisoned. Tained.

You’re suffering.

And you don’t suffer beautifully. You’re not draped in silk sheets and clutching your pearls as your trauma washes over you in delicate, smudged mascara tears. No, your naked body shivers with the cold air and sticky spilled wine and your nails are crooked from the biting and the picking. Your eyes are sore and there’s something worse clawing at your throat.

“Baby, hey…” Eddie trails, lightly stroking your arm. “It’s okay. Just breathe for me, okay?”

“No, I’m so fucking done!” you scream, slamming your glass on the coffee table, watching as it cracks. “I can’t fucking believe this stupid thing happened to me and now I can’t do shit during sex and I’m just broken. I’m just fucking broken. And it’s all his fault!”

You choke on a sob, collapsing back onto the carpet. “It’s all his fault,” you whisper, overcome with sorrow.

“Hey, hey. Come here,” Eddie whispers, tentatively pulling you back into his arms.

“I want this to be over with.” Your voice comes out exasperated. Exhausted. Like even the thought of having to keep going through this is about to do you in. “I just want it to be over.”

“I know.”

“It’s so gross. It’s so gross! I feel so fucking tainted and like I’m full of toxic waste. Like goo, you know? Just fucking oozing with the stuff.”

Eddie simply nods, holding you tighter to his chest. “Did you, like, get triggered? Last time, you said it was that detergent at the store.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s like I woke up being assaulted or something. It’s absolute bullshit. I thought I was done with this. I thought it was over. I thought I’d been to therapy enough that it was letting me get back to having sex and being normal.”

“Ah, come on, sweetheart,” he cooed. “There’s no such thing as being normal, especially after something like that. You know that.” You let out a huff, one of your stubborn ones that leaves a small smile on Eddie’s lips. “Besides, you’re the only one punishing yourself for not being able to have sex right now.”

Sniffling, you look up to meet his eyes. “You’re not mad at me?”

His eyebrows furrow, shaking his head as he continues to smile at you. “Why would I be mad at you, hm? I don’t want to have sex if you’re not feeling it.”

“Oh,” you say simply. “Okay. Yeah.”

Arms tightening, he states, “That’s how it should always be.”

You nod. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“And we have our things we do,” he adds, fiddling with your fingers. “You know, getting off at the same time.”

“You don’t think it’s weird?” you ask.

“Not to get, like, vulgar right now, but I think it’s hot.” That gets a laugh out of you. “I’m really into it ‘cause you’re super into it.”

“I like it,” you agree, the haze starting to dissipate from your vision. “It makes me feel safe and I just…it’s nice.”

“Then we can keep doing that until you’re ready to do anything else, alright?”

You nod, still trying to clear the fog.

“I know what I signed up for, sweetheart,” he says, giving you a quick squeeze. “I knew it wasn’t going to be easy for you, no matter how much I wish it was.”

“I’m gonna get through this,” you say with a nod. “I know I can do this. I just need some time to figure out how to change what’s happening inside me.”

“See? That’s my girl,” he whispers, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “My strong, beautiful, brave girl.”

“How were the kids?”

It’s dark in your bed, the covers seemingly comfier than they’ve ever been. Eddie has you curled into his arms, hiding you away from the assailants and the monsters of the world. There’s no Him here. For now, you’re resting in the arms of solace.

“Absolutely terrible,” he says, causing you to chuckle. “But I think they had fun. Nance is good at the teaching thing, bossing the kids around, you know?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Would you keep talking to me?” you ask. “I want to hear more about your day.”

Eddie trails on, stroking your hair. He tells you about the tiny parade the classes had and how the mini float they made stopped moving halfway through. Steve came just in time to see it break down and they worked together to get it back up and running again.

He says you would’ve had fun.

Says it’s okay that you weren’t okay enough to come.

Says it’s okay that you’re struggling with this.

“You’re doing your best,” he whispers as your eyes start to get too difficult to open. “And I love you so much. I’m right here with you.”

Love doesn’t come easily after sexual assault. When there’s no one left to trust and the idea of sex is appealing but the follow through fills you with intense anxiety, the thought of a relationship is…tough. It’s easy until it’s hard and it’s hard until it’s easy. It’s like every day comes with something new, whether it be good or bad.

Eddie’s the exception that you never saw coming. And you’re so fucking glad you were able to see the day where you got to meet him. Fall in love with him. Stay with him.

And he tells you one last truth before you fall asleep.

“You aren’t broken, even if you feel like it. Just a little bent, baby. That’s all.”

shout out to @strangergraphics for her dividers...and a big thanks to her for encouraging me to share this when I was giving up.

if you are going through anything like this, know that you're not alone. it's a scary experience and people don't really talk about the way the body is just as affected by trauma as the brain is. healing is not linear and you will get through this.

stay strong.

#Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson/reader #Eddie munson x you #Eddie munson/you #boyfriend!eddie munson #Eddie x you #Eddie x reader #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson hurt/comfort

166 notes · View notes