Tumgik
#like... i just want to be blatantly honest
jonathanbiers · 2 years
Note
Argyle never gets frustrated with Steve when he doesn’t understand something. He doesn’t roll his eyes, or give That Sigh. He explains things patiently, if a bit abstractly, and when Steve is way off base Argyle runs with it. Is Vecna a vampire? Whoa that would be wild, man! Do you think he can’t have garlic? We could just take him out with a gnarly garlic pie, my dude!
the way you're seeing into my mind.... argyle being really soft with steve and taking the time to make sure he doesn't feel stupid when he's confused is something i've considered AT LENGTH (specifically in dms with @himbohohoharringtxn who has the unfortunate luck of being on the receiving end of Most of my argyle thoughts fdjghkdfj)
i would like to preface this by saying that i am firmly in "argyle and steve are both genuinely smart" territory. i think steve is very neurodivergent coded (i see the arguments for adhd/autism/dyslexia/ocd and as someone who might be autistic but is diagnosed with the other three....i see these arguments and i agree on all fronts) and there's also the head trauma of it all, though that's not what this is about. he's not fucking dumb, he just needs things broken down and explained to him in a very specific way. nothing wrong with that!
as far as argyle is concerned - we've literally seen him in action noticing small details no one else has(one of my fav parallels between them), which ends up being the reason the cali group finds nina and el. he's not fucking dumb either, just delivered to us as a comic relief stoner character with little dimension because the duffers need to be fucking stopped
BUT ANYWAY! you're so right! argyle would see the way steve sometimes gets brushed off and spoken over. the rest don't mean it to be hurtful and steve tries not to show that it does sometimes sting (because it's really not that big of a deal to him and it's not like they're being outright mean) but he would ABSOLUTELY "yes and-" whatever steve's off the wall question or idea was, if anything just to make him laugh, relieve some of the tension. AND IT WORKS is the thing.
it's not just, "duuuude, what if we just lure vecna into the sun? he'll be TOAST in five seconds flat, no fighting necessary. nancy, you can put the gun down, we're gonna hurl garlic cloves at him with a slingshot!" in one fell swoop, argyle is 1. making sure steve feels heard and not spoken over; 2. acknowledging steve's input and effort in a way that, let's be honest, the others don't do very often; 3. putting a smile on the group's faces for a while because fuck they're kids in a stressful situation and need a laugh; 4. putting himself in the line of fire so the others can rag on him instead.
argyle would do this when they aren't even dating yet and steve definitely would not be normal about it, he'd be smiling so big and soft and then argyle would catch his eye and smile back and they'd have this little quiet moment between them amidst all the chaos and dread.
after they're dating though? oh, they'd be INSUFFERABLE. they'd be such a pda couple, with the ridiculous pet names("what the fuck did you just call me?" "don't worry about it, my lil sweet potato pie."), and the open flirting until their friends are fake-retching, the whole nine yards. argyle is hanging off of steve's back with his arms around his waist and not even acknowledging it as he makes his argument to the rest of the group that, "no, no, listen. steve is onto something here, i just know. what if-"
and when they're alone, it'd be less of the theatrics and silliness and more of the gentle patience. they're both smart in really different ways and when argyle gets something steve doesn't and steve is getting a little frustrated about it, he'd take his hand or pull him close and just distract him with a little bit of affection to get him to cool down because he knows being frustrated isn't going to help steve figure out whatever it is. conversely, steve does the same when he's trying to explain something to argyle - though he's less likely to get as frustrated when confused, and more likely to pretend to take longer to get it than he actually does because listening to steve explain a subject he's knowledgeable about is fucking hot, can you blame him? they're just soft with each other, okay
268 notes · View notes
incesthemes · 7 months
Note
hey girlie it’s me, sam winchesters gay lover, your mootie 🥰🥰🥰 i just wanted to let you know, that your tags on the post about that wincest video are based and i agree with every word, hashtag slay couldn’t agree more i loved reading your essay in those tags heart ❤️
omg thank you!!! i'm basically only capable of talking in essays whether people want me to or not, unfortunately
i just have a lot of feelings on this topic and the whole "canon or not canon" argument is weird to me; the themes are pretty darn clear in supernatural (it is NOT known for its subtlety) so idk man. they don't have to kiss to be canon. and they don't have to have a romantic relationship to be canon either. how many times do they get into relationships with other people only for it to be treated as cheating/betrayal/abandonment, only for them have to give up that relationship in order to reaffirm their devotion to their brother
that's just what the text says. i'm not under any kind of delusion that they have some secret sexual or romantic relationship, but that doesn't change that sam and dean are each other's most important person regardless of that. which is really awesome imo, that romance isn't treated as more important than whatever horrible thing they have with each other, and that they don't have to consummate their relationship with romance/sex in order for it to be the most important one they have
(and of course there's romantic/sexual subtext, like parallels and metaphors and misunderstandings and jokes, but to me that just provides a solid foundation for presenting this relationship between them as the most important even though it's not romantic or sexual—because this language of romance is the only one we know, really, when it comes to writing important relationships between characters. it's the only one we know in our own personal lives, to a large extent. so you use the romance/sexuality to symbolize the actual bond they have. which is so much worse lmao)
anyway i think spn is fairly unique in this way because of how no other relationships can really ever stand parallel to the one they share; even in other shows that center male friendship, romance is allowed to coexist with brotherhood. for sam and dean, it's not, and that becomes a point of tension and conflict and resolution many, many times over the course of the show. so like yeah!!! just because it's not romantic or sexual doesn't mean it's not canon, in the sense that their relationship is the point of the show, and it is the most important relationship they have. they chose each other above all else, every single time. yknow, it's "the epic love story of sam and dean" and all that
#ask#sorry. i did not intend to write another essay about this#but as i said i am only capable of talking in essays. my apologies#to be honest the only reason i have so much to say about this is because i have seen some truly baffling takes about what sam and dean are#and every time i see one i have to sit here and think about it. like how did you arrive at that conclusion. what are you watching#mostly in terms of like. people saying sam and dean are not weird and codependent and enmeshed with each other#that's just blatantly not true because again. this show is about sam and dean and their relationship. textually subtextually metatextually#the concept of even having to defend their relationship as canon is as confusing to me as having to defend umm rubysam is canon#or something#like it happened. they were together in canon. we saw them have sex. you can't say rubysam isn't canon because it's right there#same thing with sam and dean. the difference is the nature of their relationship and the fact that i guess people don't want to like#think of it as canon when it's not romantic????#it's such a no-brainer kind of thing. like the fact that i'm sitting here trying to explain myself is embarrassing me bc it's like#no shit sherlock#but again the only reason i am thinking about this so much is because i keep seeing people trying to deny or downplay their relationship#in the first place#which is BIZARRE to me#like idk i don't see people trying to deny that ummmm fuck. killua and gon hxh aren't canon friends#that they don't even like each other#wow i'm seriously rambling. apparently i have more to say about this topic than i originally conceived#idk man i get people are uncomfortable with incest but the point is that it's like. not. their canon-ness is not related to incest#they're just insane about each other and they are each other's most important person. they are more important than romantic pursuits#the uniqueness is that it trumps all other relationships and cannot coexist with any others. that's what's so canon about it#it's not just friendship. it's not just brothers. it's not just husbands. it's everything and nothing and so much more all at once#shrugs. sorry for rambling AGAIN#i hope i'm making sense here#supernatural#wincest#spn posting
14 notes · View notes
withacapitalp · 1 year
Text
Here have a snippet of the next chapter for HTRAJ y'all :D I'm mid write and I'm vibin' with what I have so far
“He’s long gone, Eds. Can we go back inside now? It’s fucking freezing out here,” Gareth asked, rubbing at his bare arms and shivering as the frigid winter wind raced past them. Eddie could barely feel his own body, but he ignored both the cold and Gareth’s words, walking towards his van. 
Steve was there. He had to be. He had to be, or else Eddie was going to lose his mind worrying over what was probably nothing, and he might say something incredibly stupid when they actually found Steve, and that would ruin everything they had worked so hard to build.
Luckily for Eddie’s increasingly fragile heart and mind, he spotted a familiar pair of beat up old converse poking out, attached to dark wash jeans that he instantly recognized. Eddie practically melted in relief, jogging around to the other side, needing to see Steve’s face. 
He opened his mouth to spout off some stupid quip about dining and dashing, but he stopped short the second he saw Steve’s state. All of the relief instantly vanished, replaced by a bone deep dread that overtook Eddie’s entire being. 
Steve was sitting on the ground, his knees pulled close to his chest and his eyes staring firmly at the pavement. He was as still as a statue and just as silent, barely even blinking as he took shallow uneven breaths. Eddie could see him shaking from where he stood, trembling like a leaf in the wind as he continued to just stare at nothing. 
Something was wrong. 
78 notes · View notes
motherforthefamicom · 2 months
Text
impulsively changed my icon hi guys
4 notes · View notes
aztr0punk · 6 months
Text
twitter feels so fucking unsafe its insane😭
1 note · View note
inkskinned · 1 year
Text
so while i was writing the book, i became violently suicidal.
this was mostly due to the fact that i had a very bad reaction to some meds and my brain stopped producing any serotonin. also i was in the last semester of grad school where it's actually illegal to feel anything but dread. so it wasn't going well.
somewhere in the fog of it i became aware i needed help. nobody was taking clients or my insurance. i didn't want to do inpatient care - it wasn't right for my needs. there's not really an "in between" stage between "inpatient" and "no care," but i was trying to do the right thing. i was trying to activate the chain of command that was my emergency plan. i knew i needed help now.
i used betterhelp.
i know, i know. i'm a straight-A student and so smart and so clever, how could i ever use something so blatantly bad. to be honest with you, i didn't feel particularly keen on it from the getgo - things that seem too good to be true usually are. also, if something online is free, the price is usually your privacy.
the thing is that there was kind of a global pandemic happening at the time and i worked 5 jobs alongside of being a fulltime student and also like writing a book on the side. it is a miracle that i even thought about getting help. i would love to tell you i had the mental wherewithal to like, process whether this was the right choice for me. mostly i was desperate. i was so suicidal that i was trying to find a reason to stay inside of fortune cookies. i was the kind of suicidal that looks like splatterpaint. i hadn't been that bad in an entire decade.
they took my data. i gave them it freely. somewhere out there, they have a dossier on me. on everything i survived. my story in little datapoints, scattergraphed beautifully.
the first woman told me that really i should be grateful, because (and this is a direct quote): "at least you're not anne frank." i said that i felt that statement was antisemitic, as anne frank's life and experience shouldn't be compared to like, a nonbinary lesbian in western massachusetts. the therapist said that i should try to use lucid dreaming to try to picture myself in an actually scary situation, like running from nazis.
i applied for another therapist. i was willing to accept the possibility that there was a bad apple in the bunch. the next therapist and i even laughed about how inappropriate that statement was. and then, in our next session: the new therapist said if i was struggling with body image issues, i should just work harder on my appearance. she spent 3 sessions in a row talking about how she was grieving, and made me memorize facts about her grandmother so "she can live on through my clients."
i am a three's-a-charm kind of person. okay, so what if the last person made me uncomfortable. i figured it was just a misunderstanding of priorities - she had felt she was sharing with me, i had felt like i had to take care of her. i applied for another therapist.
the last woman asked me to help her pray. she bowed her head. i stared at her, frozen, while she said: lord, i beg you: cure her. take the pain of being gay away from her.
i spent somewhere between 2.5 and 3 months on betterhelp. in that whole time, i was not getting the professional help i so desperately needed, even though i was fucking trying.
in the end, i survived this because i finally could get off the meds that were literally killing me. a request for a real therapist finally went through. i survived because my friends saved my life. because nick let me sob myself dry in his arms. because maddie took the razors out of my room when i asked them to. because grace slept over in my bed for like 3 weeks in a row since nobody trusted me not to hurt myself when i was alone. i survived because i got fucking lucky. because even when i was desperately suicidal, i was too old and too self-aware to take "you need to be prettier" as good advice.
the thing is that there's a 19 year old me who isn't like that. who would have heard "just think about how grateful you should be" and said - oh, i see. i would have assumed that is what it means to be in therapy: the same thing my abusers used to tell me. that i am just pretending and lazy. that i am ugly and unworthy.
betterhelp positioned itself to take advantage of an incredibly vulnerable community. it preys on desperation. it knows it is serving people who are not doing well mentally. it saw that there is a huge need for real, immediate, compassionate mental health care: and then it fucking takes your money and privacy.
i still get their ads on instagram. last night i watched as a woman in a pool pretends to talk to a different woman. they discuss her anxiety.
there's a 19 year old version of me, and she didn't survive this. she was too tired, and drowning. i almost fucking died. this thing almost fucking killed me.
in the ad, the woman playing the therapist takes a note on a clipboard and then nods once, sagely.
i have to admit it's a pretty scene. the steam and light coming off the pool water lands on the actresses. like this, it almost looks baptismal, holy.
10K notes · View notes
sh1-n0bu · 2 months
Text
♡︎ 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙! ♡︎
characters: sub!yandere!AFAB!characters x dom!gn!reader
warnings: character uses he/him pronouns but has female genitalia/tcock (words such as pussy, vagina, cunt will be used), character is transmale, reader has you/your pronouns, cock/strap, yandere character, established relationship, protected sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that folks), breeding, creampie, belly bulge, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of death and light torture
notes: you can think of any character you want with this fic, i just had a wild thought during a car ride at my vacation. divider from @/cafekitsune
Tumblr media
yandere! husband who has been in love with you since they first met you. what started out as a simple fascination developed into an unhealthy obsession until he finally got the courage to ask you out on an official date
yandere! husband who gets surprised when you accept his ask for a date, sheepishly smiling as you tell him that you found him pretty and had been building up the courage to do the same. who nearly fall into his knees right then and there with sheer nervousness yet also giddiness at your confession, finding the wobbly smile on your face endearing
yandere! husband who gradually built a stable relationship with you over time. there were moments where he thought of just drugging you up and stealing you away to keep you all to himself but he chastised himself for such thoughts when you have been nothing but loyal and honest. he thought of killing those annoying bitches and assholes who tried to hit on you or blatantly flirted with you in front of him, imagining cutting out their tongue and burning their eyes with scolding hot iron only to snap back to the present when your hand wound around his waist, introducing him as your lover excitedly
yandere! husband who got scared when you accidentally walked in while he was changing after a shower, terrified that you will leave him after having seen his top scars and cunt. who could hear his heartbeat in his own ears, rapidly beating like a frightened bird thrown into a cage while he waited your reaction. who try to apologize only to be cut off with your comforting words and accepting hug
yandere! husband who proposed to you first, getting on both of his knees as he presented you the ring in the box. who lets out a sweet laugh when you kneel down in return, showing your own ring that you bought for him
yandere! husband who definitely cried on your wedding, wiping away his tears silently as he turns his back to you, not wanting you to see him in such a weak and vulnerable state. turning back to you with the wet handkerchief still in his hand, who can feel the tears coming back once again as he sees your knowing look and comforting smile
yandere! husband who is happy with your married life. the new adventures of moving into a new house, decorating it to your liking and modifying your rooms being an exciting life for him. he loved the moments where you two put paint of each other’s faces instead of painting the walls, choosing the colors on complete random with an eeny, meeny, mini, mo game, dancing with you bare feet in the kitchen as you both wait for the water to boil for the cup ramen at midnight. he would want to hold your hand in his own, the wedding rings clicking against each other softly as he giggles
yandere! husband who wants to try for a baby after years into the marriage. it was a surprise to him how he managed to wait patiently for so long after your marriage. while he wanted desperately to get himself knocked up at the night of consummation of your marriage, he understood your wishes to wait until the perfect time. finally, he thinks it is the perfect timing, after years of protected sex and daydreams of feeling his cunt get filled, tells you of his plan
yandere! husband who purposefully poked a tiny hole into every condom there is at your home, who huffs a fake annoyed noise whenever the material tears as you try to put it around your strap. he may have a pout on his face and talk about trying it raw on the outside but on the inside he is fucking giddy. he wants to feel your cock constantly pushing into his wet pussy walls so bad and he couldn’t help but curse silently under his breath when you take out a lone condom that was thankfully reserved in the pockets of one of your pants
yandere! husband who suggests on riding you instead of taking it as usual. a sudden change in your usual sex life but you didn’t mind trying new things out. laying on your back, you watch and let out occasional groans and low moans as you see how his sweet pussy swallows you whole, the fat of his ass higgling every time he bounces himself on your strap, asking you to slap and squeeze it. which you do gladly, lightly slapping as the jiggling flesh, making your husband giggle
yandere! husband who gets annoyed as the feeling of the condom around your cock, skillfully bouncing himself until he ‘accidentally’ slips your strap out. he swears it was the amount of lube you used, grabbing your cock with his hand and tapping his dripping pussy with the tip. your husband who makes a show, wiggling his hips as he slides the tip inside and sinking down until he feels full again. not yet, he thinks to himself, knowing that you would get suspicious if he tries his plan too early on
yandere! husband who keeps ‘accidentally’ slipping your strap out of his gushing cunt, whining until his patience finally ends. the next time it slips out, his fingers pinch at the tip of the wet condom, pulling on the material with a pout and a mumbled “it’s in the way..” until it comes off with a lewd pop!
yandere! husband who disregards your frantic words of protection and taking a second for you to put on another one, turning around to face you now as he sinks down onto your strap with one move. the feeling of your own cock, without any annoying latex in the way making him cream around your fat cockhead instantly, a drawn out satisfied whine falling from his lips
yandere! husband who clenches around your strap on purpose every time he moves. his hands guiding yours to touch his chest, the top scars that healed beautifully and to squeeze and fondle his nipples “u-until i sta—anngh ah haagh mmgh♡︎! start to lactate, just like your sweet baby momma uungh♥︎!!” while his pretty pussy squeezes your strap like a vice, unwilling to let go or not even daring to think so. he wanted to feel your cum, hot seeds painting his walls white and making his legs shake
yandere! husband who silences your weak protests for a protection with a messy kiss. noses knocking together, tongue immediately pushing into your mouth and wanting to ‘connect’ with you on a deeper level. he wanted everything you have to offer and seeing the small trail of saliva left behind as you pulled back for a gasping breath made him giggle deliriously
yandere! husband who increases his pace when he hears you struggling to talk, words of cumming together coming out in a jumbled mess as he sits himself fully in your lap. pushing your pelvises together until no gap was between them, throwing his head back with a satisfied mewl when he finally feels it. that warmth he’s been craving so long, filling up his womb, mixing with his love juice as the excessive mixed cum drops down your strap
yandere! husband who gets pushed into his back, legs pushed up and over until his knees were beside his head. put into a mating press with your annoyed face staring down at him just made him clench around you, a drunk giggle of your name falling from his lips. he gladly spreads his weeping pussy open further, with you still inside him, letting you see the mess you two made
yandere! husband who drops his act entirely, wiggling his hips with heart shaped pupils as he asks you to breed him. cum inside him as many times as you want, he wants a baby with you, it’s about time you two take your relationship to the next level. “i’ll be a good baby momma… and you’re already a wonderful lover who would become a wonderful parent. come on [name], breed me full of your seeds♥︎”
yandere! husband who gets fucked thoroughly to his wish. crying out all sorts of filthy words every time your cock sinks back into his cunt. thin drools on his chin, old tear stains constantly being replaced by new ones as his pussy clenches around you for the nth time, forcing you to cum earlier than you usually does. overwhelming amount of your mixed cum wetting the bedsheets, your thighs and his own as well as his butt. not like he cared, he wanted to make sure he gets knocked up, that you get him knocked up as he creams around you again, creating an even thicker halo of white around your strap
yandere! husband who shows his filthier side, holding your head against his chest and asking you to suck on his nipples, who place your hand over his tcock, telling you to “s-stroke! my cock too ahh haagh♡︎ mgh n-not fair that mmuungh uunghk my cock is being left alone♡︎!”
yandere! husband who lets out one last hoarse wail, the wetness of his cunt making you groan as your strap cums inside him for the nth time that night before collapsing on top of him. he had passed out, tired from the continuous pounding he received as he lay there peacefully with flushed red cheeks, tearstains and drools on his chin and cheeks while pretty bruises and lovebites cover his skin. the most notable bruises being the ones on his hips and thighs, making you grimace at the painful wound you saw. but hey, the small bulge in his belly from your excessive cum inside his womb made you happy. it definitely made him happy too
yandere! husband who occasionally regains consciousness during your aftercare for him. who groans and refuses to let you pull out for bath, straddling your lap inside the warm water filled bathtub. he couldn’t help but slur out a “noo… don’t pull out” as you push his pelvic away from yours, feeling the cum inside his pussy to drip down his legs
yandere! husband who now eagerly wait for the signs of pregnancy with a full boxes of pregnancy test at his side of the nightstand, who still poke secret holes into your condoms because when did he said he wanted only one baby with you?
⇨ characters i think fits: jing yuan, dan feng, yingxing, sunday, aventurine, argenti, dan heng il, gepard, sampo, luocha, caelus, luka, jiaoqui, itto, baizhu, ayato, thoma, childe, pantalone, dottore, kaeya, kaveh, lyney, neuvillette, sethos, heizou, venti, rubedo, aalto, xiangli yao, scar, yoriichi, haganezuka, douma, kaigaku, jyugo, uno, kiji, honey, trois, kenshirou yozakura, musashi, houzuki sanzou, ruka gojou, seitarou, tsukumo, mitsuru, sinbad, sharkkan, spartos, koumei, titus, muu alexius, sphintus, rafayel, mammon, asmodeus, mephistopheles, diavolo, belphegor, simeon, solomon, satan + anyone you like
1K notes · View notes
metranart · 4 months
Text
Jealous! Gojo Satoru
Tumblr media
jealous! Gojo who ignores Geto's advice, to give you time to adapt and be friends first before starting to woo you.
jealous! Gojo who practically melts every time you bite the tip of your pencil while trying to understand something particularly difficult in class. 
jealous! Gojo who growls under his breath when he finds you in Nanami's arms after receiving some distressing news. Unable to think straight, gets dangerously close to lash out at the goodhearted blonde just to become an utterly inoffensive kitten, the moment he sees the tears in your eyes.
jealous! Gojo who not so discreetly asks for your number and pretends that it is for another reason other than his torrid crush on you but ends up sending you good morning and goodnight messages and all kinds of cat memes where he replaces the head with Suguru's photo.
jealous! Gojo who goes through your socials as soon as he has the chance and can’t help but grin like a maniac when he sees a picture of you. You have him at your mercy. You’re gorgeous, no! you are perfect to him! he just wants you all to himself.
jealous! Gojo who always tries to be one step ahead so that your missions are always with him, not with Suguru, not with Nanami, not with Yu...only with him, since if he is honest, he does not trust them around you.
jealous! Gojo who believes that he is slowly making his way into your heart, but he only ends up more madly in love with you, until one day he can't resist it anymore and holds your hand... and to his surprise, you don't ask him to let you go but just say adorably blushing: Your hands are so big and warm, Satoru.
jealous! Gojo who now walks hand in hand with you almost all the time, when you go to class, when he takes you to your dorm at night and even when Geto claims he's delusional, he insists, you guys are already dating.
jealous! Gojo who finally confesses his feelings for you and refuses to let you answer by kissing you, igniting a steamy hot make out session which leaves you breathless, whatever negative reply you had, its lost and even your reluctance goes to the back of your head, in order, to give him a chance.
jealous! Gojo who is over the moon, elated you ‘agreed’ and now you let him hold you whenever he wants. “Satoru, don’t be so clingy” Geto had said but he only stuck his tongue at him, every time the raven-haired tried to latch his hands away from you another came to replace it. Making Satoru smirk, wickedly. “God. Suguru, are you jealous?”
jealous! Gojo who slowly begins to let out his true possessive self, making comments about the most random things, like your skirt: "Isn't it too short, beautiful? I love it but I would hate for you to attract the attention of unwanted people" about your classmates: "I know that Nanami and Yu are your besties but with me by your side, do you really need to be so close to them?" slowly monopolizing your time for himself, after all he is not only your boyfriend but also your upper classmate, surely he only wants the best for you.
jealous! Gojo who literally breaks Naoya's nose when he blatantly hits on you at a meeting. "Back off, Zenin!" His eyes glowed ferally, to which Naoya just indifferently wiped the traces of blood with the back of his hand, tsking his tongue, nonchalantly. "She's not even THAT pretty, Gojo." All the available sorcerers had to separate them to prevent them from killing each other. You remember there being so much blood.
jealous! Gojo Who becomes even more jealous after that incident, scaring off any male that gets too close to you but claiming it's for your own safety, only those closest to him are allowed around but not for a long time.
jealous! Gojo who changes your mind with sex feats that blow your fucking mind away. "Nanami is my best friend, I’m going to the movies with him, period!" Gojo is bending you on his knee to spank that attitude out of you and when hears the first attempt of a sob, he pulls your panties down and massages the sore skin gently as he eats your pretty tight cunt until you are a shivering, moaning mess. "Suguru told me he saw you flirting with the girl tending the mochi shop" Gojo's pummeling his hips against your thighs, deep and steady, to make you forget his attempt to get free stuff, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh so loud and lewd that you even forget what you were complaining about, he’s fucking pounding your sensitive pussy till it’s puffy and leaking with his cum. He’s a little toxic like that.
jealous! Gojo who likes having you all to himself, he doesn't want to share you with anyone, not even Shoko or Mei, he loves you so damn much he could explode. He loves having you with him, having you on top of him, under him, against him. He's not your favorite sitting place but sure as hell, he always makes himself the only seat available. You actually don't remember how it feels to sit on something other than his muscular thighs… Shoko once said that he loves you more than is probably healthy to him.
jealous! Gojo who becomes more possessive with each passing day, growing more toxic and more aggressive when he believes that someone wants to take you away from him but loves you so, SO much that you can't help but forgive him every time, since he always promises that his blue eyes only see you, and so it will be FOREVER. You're not sure how you feel about the eternal part of that promise, but it certainly makes you feel like the most protected person in the entire planet.
I MADE SOME SICK SFW/NSFW ARTS FOR THIS DRABBLE, YOU CAN CHECK THEM OUT IN MY PATREON. ;)
976 notes · View notes
bluebugjay · 3 months
Text
A lot of people aren't vibing with Charles and Crystal's romance and honestly i think it's because it's not necessarily supposed to be a full-fledged, endgame romance.
I think it's written to be a fling.
Charles is a flirt; one of the first things he thinks about when Edwin tells him ghosts can't feel is that he would miss kissing, he says himself it's nice to be seen by someone his own age, he calls Crystal fit, etc. Assumably between cases he has a very small social circle of literally just Edwin so it makes sense that this girl who he gets on with and finds attractive immediately becomes a bit of a crush for him.
Then Crystal picks up on his flirting almost immediately, again they get on, etc. She says if he wasn't dead and she wasn't dealing with the aftermath of her toxic relationship with David he would be a good addition to her body count, i.e. just a fling. She doesn't say they'd date or she could fall for him just that they'd probably hook up.
Their first kiss happens when they're both dealing with some heavy stuff, Charles is angry, continuing to push down his trauma with his father and his past, Crystal is annoyed about not being any closer to getting her memories back whilst trying to deal with the trauma her last relationship caused her. They find comfort in each other in that moment. Crystal says she wants something real and the care they have for each other is real, there's no manipulation, no secrets. It's honest and it's innocent.
The song that plays in that scene is called Young Blood (White Sea Remix) by The Naked and Famous and has lyrics such as 'we're only young and naive still' and 'can't help myself but count the flaws, claw my way out of these walls, one temporary escape' and 'we lie beneath the stars at night, our hands gripping each other tight, you keep my secrets hope to die' - It does align with the idea that they're what each other wants in the moment, a distraction, to be able to pretend everything is normal and ok (keep each others secrets)
Crystal in the next episode, the next morning after their kiss, literally calls Charles a 'cute distraction' and says they should be friends. This time both of their issues and trauma are the reason for them not continuing the relationship. Blatantly, Crystal isn't ready for another relationship so soon after David, she wakes up with a nightmare about him and Charles. They bring up Charles fighting the Night Nurse and Charles says that he thought they were on the same page about it and 'at least that's how it seemed last night' which again leans into the fact they were both looking for comfort. Charles and Crystal kissing had nothing explicitly to do with her supporting his actions fighting the Night Nurse and yet that's how he took it because that's what he was searching for comfort from and acceptance on. Which is most likely why he seems to take the rejection harder than Crystal, seemingly agreeing to be friends more out of respect for her choice than the want to call it quits himself.
Charles tells Edwin later on about the kiss (right after Edwin is complaining about having to cancel plans with Monty) and says though he didn't physically feel it, he did feel it 'up here' and points to his head. The mind is generally not the place you feel love, I feel that's a given. (reminds me of the starfish on the beach that Niko says are in love, Edwin points out starfish have no brain and Niko says love doesn't require logic, meaning: love is not stored in the mind.) Charles and Edwin's conversation veers off to being about there own relationship, with Charles saying he wouldn't want to be dead with anyone else - not even the girl you just kissed? No? Ok.
The way that episode goes (The case of the two dead dragons) Crystal and Charles end up arguing about the very reasons they decided to not continue their relationship. Crystal likens Hunter and Brad to David, and Charles defends them saying not everyone is her demon ex-boyfriend which seems like he's projecting and really defending himself. Then Crystal calls him out on his 'rage problem' and what happened with the Night Nurse. So though they comforted each other the night before, their real feelings for each others issues are surfacing and they're not so on the same page. Of course they get over this and apologise soon enough. Though in the end, it's Edwin Charles opens up to and actually talks to about how he's feeling rather than pushing it aside and looking for a distraction. And after that, Charles gives Crystal genuine comfort not just a distraction by listening to her talk about her nightmares/visions about David. (immediately followed by the scene of Edwin and Monty on the swings in which Edwin suggests they don't see each other anymore, then back tracks, they kiss followed by rejection which definitely has... parallels)
After that, Crystal and Charles are still an obvious source of comfort for one another, they talk to each other about their stresses, they stick close together a lot of the time but there's nothing inherently romantic to their actions aside from the fact we know they have kissed which gives their actions a depth that, for example Edwin and Niko's don't, despite them also being affectionate and spending time together alone.
Then in the last episode as Crystal is attempting to leave for London, her and Charles share another kiss. When she tries to say bye to Charles, he says it feels like a 'good-bye good-bye' rather than a 'see you back in London good-bye' and Crystal doesn't correct him, essentially confirming it was supposed to be a forever goodbye. She instead kisses him. It's a good-bye kiss. A (supposed to be) final kiss. A 'we had a good run' type of kiss. Crystal kisses him because she thinks she'll never see him again. It's similar to the first in which the kiss itself is the beginning and end, and it doesn't mean much past that. It's a kiss as a secret again, like their first kiss. A kiss to fill the space left by things they don't want to talk about. She doesn't want to admit she's planning on leaving for good so she kisses him instead, it's a comfort and it's a distraction. (and its consistent)
When Crystal decides to stay in the end, Charles says it'll be great, then specifies that 'solving cases together' will be great, not anything else that could of implied. Which could either be them just being awkward, or a flip in their dynamic that now Crystal is the one more involved in their relationship and Charles is the one setting boundaries.
Overall I think they have a really interesting dynamic. They are exactly what each other needs in moments and then the opposite in the next, they care about each other so much yet are possibly the people that unearth each others insecurities and traumas the most. They're both looking for a new, different kind of relationship and find it within the other but inherently once the novelty fades they fall more into being friends than anything more. I think like most of the relationships in this show, they're supposed to be complicated, they're supposed to be more of a journey than a destination. They learn and grow from their interactions together and I think that's something really beautiful.
463 notes · View notes
thesoftestpunk · 2 years
Text
I want you, Baby I need you
Summary: your friend tells you someone may like you and so stupidly, you begin to think about them a little differently
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Word count: 5.2k
A/N: I feel like my brain fog made the pacing weird :/
Warnings: bullying, girls being mean :(, lots of fluff and pining!!
Main Masterlist
Pt.2
Tumblr media
“Guess what?” One of your teammates, Christina, asks the second you place your tray down on the table, looking too smug for your liking. Before you can even ask, she’s talking over you. “The freak has a crush on you.”
“Who?” You genuinely forget who she’s referring to for a second, but her scoff seems to jog your memory. “Oh. Eddie Munson?” 
“Who else?” She sneers, and everyone else around you laughs like it’s some huge joke, but you’re certain she isn’t joking. “God, how embarrassing.”
Your cheeks burn as they laugh even harder. You let out a weak chuckle, feeling the world around you shrink and become suffocating. 
“Yeah,” you let out, trying to play along. “Could you imagine? Me and him?” 
You blatantly refuse to call him a freak. Since moving into town two years ago, you quickly learned city life and small town life were completely different worlds. Despite falling in with the semi-popular crowd by joining the swimming team, you understood the struggle Eddie and his friends had to go through. You weren’t freak status back home, but you weren’t popular either. Not always well known, but always well liked, and your new friends teasing him about the rumor makes you worry about it spreading. For your sake and not his. You don’t want to deal with any sort of teasing from anyone.
Guilt crawls up your throat as you steal a glance toward his table, catching his eye as he curiously looks on at the boisterous scene going on around you. You give a quick smile, which probably comes off as more of a wince, and turn back around. In all honesty, he hasn’t been on your radar. You don’t know much about him other than the fact that he’s loud, labeled The Freak of Hawkins High, and has made a scene or two in class. 
“Oh god,” Christina sighs out, wiping nonexistent tears from her eyes. “Pathetic.” 
Humming half heartedly, you focus on shoving your shitty school food around your tray instead of eating it, a sudden pit sitting heavy in your stomach. Because Eddie having a crush on you actually felt flattering. 
You choose to sit next to him in English, even give a small smile when you sit. There’s still time before the bell rings, and you find yourself glancing over at him. You open and close your mouth, uncertain of what to say until the words suddenly come tumbling out.
“How many tattoos do you have?”
For a second he doesn’t realize you’re talking to him until the silence makes him look up and realize you’re staring straight at him, expectantly. He points to himself as if asking ‘me?’ eyebrows raised and his already wide doe eyes getting even wider. And you nod while fighting off a smile. 
“Why d’you wanna know?” He eyes you suspiciously, certain that whatever information you’re about to get out of him is going to get back to your friends and fuel the constant fire over his head. 
“I dunno,” you shrug a shoulder, but you’re honest. What the fuck were you supposed to say to Eddie Munson anyway? He was intimidating as hell because he put himself in the spotlight like it was nothing. It isn’t like you hate attention, but too much makes you nauseous. “Thinking about getting one, I guess?”
“You guess?” His head tilts, causing his hair to cascade over his shoulder. Of course he would be defensive. Christina was just making fun of him less than an hour ago. 
“It’s- forget it,” you shake your head. You can’t believe you would trust your nasty, mean friends when they said he had a crush on you. 
Turning back to the front of the classroom, you wait painfully for the bell to ring, and once it does, the room fills quickly with slightly out of breath students. A couple of your teammates wave at you until you finally break and they gesture wildly, asking ‘what the fuck are you doing sitting next to him?’ All you can do is give an apologetic shrug and decide you’ll lie to them later and say it was the only seat you could find. They just roll their eyes and pull out their textbooks. 
“Five.” Eddie’s voice surprises you. 
Turning your head, you hope no one sees when you ask. “Did they hurt?”
“No, ‘course not.” He bites back a smile, trying to act all tough. 
“Liar.” Your nose scrunches and it makes him laugh at how cute it is. 
You don’t mean to, truly, but now you look out for Eddie in the halls, stare at him during class, and hope for one more conversation. One that’s less embarrassing, but you do hope. Despite your friend's relentless teasing after English class the other day, you give a small wave back anytime he gives you one. You never initiate first, too shy and afraid it’ll lead to more teasing. This way you can just say you’re being polite when you wave back and they see, but more often than not, they’re too caught up in their own little worlds. Even though you’re scared they’ll tease, you keep an eye out for him and you learn more than you ever knew before. He’s polite. He lets the cheerleaders walk ahead if they bump into each other at a corner in the hall. One arm is tucked behind his back as he sweeps the other out and he bows a little. They give him weird looks respectively, but he just smiles and moves on. He might joke around with his friends, but if you listen closely, you can hear the kindness and compliments hidden underneath the meaning of his words. The group is small, but he holds the same amount of care for each and every one of them. Including his ‘little sheepies’ which you don’t fully understand, but he used a lot of words you don’t understand, and you thought you were smart. After a little investigating, you learn some of them are made up, but you seem to like the fact that he’s nerdy and into this series called Lord of the Rings. 
You’re starting to like Eddie.
“Oh my God,” Christina moves in your line of sight, in front of him. You’d positioned yourself at the cafeteria table so you didn’t have to turn around to subtly watch him anymore. “Are you staring at the freaks?”
“Stop calling them that,” you roll your eyes. “You know I hate that.”
She crosses her arms defensively. “Just, you know, being honest. What’s so interesting about them anyway?”
“Nothing.” You mutter, going back to nibbling on the shitty cardboard pizza they served today. 
She turns around and gets the biggest shit eating grin you’ve ever seen from her when her eyes connect with Eddie’s. 
“Holy shit. You’ve got a crush on The freak!”
“Christina!” You swat at her, but it’s too late. Everyone else at your table already heard and is staring at you incredulously. “I- I do not.”
“Puh-lease. You’ve been making googly eyes at him for weeks at this point!”
“It hasn’t been weeks,” you mutter under your breath.
“Ew!” Another one of the girls scrunches her nose and jabs a thumb in his direction. “Him?”
“Better be careful, Y/N,” another taunts. “Don’t wanna find you in the woods. I heard he, like, sacrificed a girl out there last year. No one’s heard from her since.”
“Oh my god, me too!” Christina pretends to look concerned. “You think that’s what happened to Nancy’s friend too? What was her name? Bev?”
“Didn’t he like…” the girl to your left leans in and stage whispers, but she could be heard from across the room if you listened hard enough. None of them understood the concept of speaking at a normal volume. “Bite a bat's head off?” 
“That was actually Ozzy Ozbourne!” Eddie leans so far back in the chair that the two front legs don’t touch the ground, one of his legs lifted so the bottom of his dirty Reebok’s supports his weight against the table. 
You’re mortified at the idea that Eddie has heard every single word, but he was at the other end of the long table today. 
“Ugh,” Christina rolls her eyes again before turning to face him. “As if we know that freak either!”
“Tina,” you hiss, not wanting to start a scene over this nonsense. 
“Whatever. You don’t have a crush.” She fully faces the table again and starts talking about the party at Jason’s after the game on Friday. 
You go to throw an apologetic look at Eddie, but find him missing from the table, and a couple of his friends send glares your way, making you shrink in shame. 
Eddie isn’t in English, or History, and you find out through the grapevine he skips the rest of the day entirely. It wasn’t uncommon for him to do, but you feel like it’s your fault. The days leading up to the party, he seems to avoid you, eyes darting away quickly and showing up late enough to class that it’s guaranteed there’s no free seats around you. Christina seems to take notice of your sour mood, but only asks once. You lie and say you’re fine, but you feel sick to your stomach. You never actively partook in the bullying, but you never stopped it either. 
The day of the game finally rolls around, filled with school spirit and a pep rally, but once again Eddie is nowhere to be found. Not that he’d ever attended a pep rally in his whole high school career, but you at least expected to spot him at lunch. He’s even absent from your shared classes. After school, you hang around in the parking lot, wasting time before you all have to go home and get ready for the game. You frown as you observe his friends, chatting away aimlessly and occasionally throwing candy around. They hang around what you think is Eddie’s van, but if he skipped all day, why would he be here now? 
“Hey,” Christina’s voice surprises you, quiet and genuine. “Just us girls… you have a crush on Munson?”
“I…” you trail off, surprised she isn’t faking her valley girl voice, and you feel like you can trust her once again since you met her two years ago. She wasn’t your first friend in Hawkins, but you had been close when you first joined the team. “I dunno. He’s actually kinda sweet. Maybe?”
“Seriously?” And then she guffaws, catching you off guard once more. “Ugh, grody! Guys, Y/N actually has a crush on Munson!”
“I- I didn’t say that!” You can’t believe Christina would do something like that. As you watch them all laugh and tease, you wonder when they all got so mean and why you started letting them get away with it. 
“You said maybe. That’s, like, totally a yes!”
“Like it’s such a bad thing to have a crush on me?” 
Everyone quiets as you slowly turn around to find Eddie standing there, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket. 
“Eddie, I…” you aren’t even sure what to say as he glares down at you. 
“I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging around you, Munson.” Christina’s voice makes you squeeze your eyes shut in frustrated embarrassment. “Even your parents couldn’t stand to stay around. Must be hard having a cultist son. Fucking embarrassing.”
The lot gets so quiet, you can hear the grinding of his teeth as he sets his jaw. He doesn’t even dignify her with a response, turning and walking away before anyone can see the red staining his cheeks. 
“Tina… that was major harsh.” One of the girls breaks the silence. 
“Oh, eat my shorts, Janice. Are we getting ready at my house or not?” 
Everyone seems to hesitate but Christina was captain of the team. No one was going to say no. Well, no one but you. 
“I’ve, um, got a thing. I’ll meet you guys at the game.” You glance over toward Eddie, watching as he harshly shoves his shoulder back to avoid one of his friends' hands. 
You shouldn’t go to the game, but you do.
Janice called you from Christina’s house, sounding hopeful. You promised to be there, despite your whole body screaming at you to just stay home. Janice promises the whole thing will blow over by Monday, and something else will come along. But it won’t just blow over with Eddie. You know that. He had looked so hurt when you turned around to face him. In all the years of getting bullied, that was the first time he showed anyone what their words did to him. And it was your fault. 
You had promised Janice you’d be there, but when you stand outside the gymnasium, you can’t make yourself go in. Can’t make yourself face who you thought were your friends. So, you walk down a path between the large building and the school and take out a key. The pool was somewhat separated, but you could still hear the muffled band playing when you entered the echoey room. You keep a spare swimsuit in your locker for this exact situation. The sport helped clear your mind and you needed to get rid of the image of Eddie’s broken look.
You swim even after the cheering and the band stops. You swim until you feel like your limbs are going to fall off, and even though you don’t want to, you shower off the chlorine. As you step out into the somewhat cool autumn air, a double door bursts open, and the kids that come spilling out make you stop. 
His little sheepies. Which means… 
Fuck. 
Eddie is the last one out, smile so wide you can’t help but wonder if it hurts. They all talk over each other, but Eddie just seems to watch over in pride. You take a step back into the shadows, hoping your bright multicolored windbreaker doesn’t give you away. 
“Hey!” Is that… Steve Harrington? “You guys were supposed to be done an hour ago.”
“The campaign ends when it ends, Steve!” One of them retorts back. 
“Yeah, well, I don’t have all night Henderson. Let’s go!” 
All three freshmen rush to Steve’s BMW and scramble inside. He and Eddie share a nod before he gets in and peels out of the lot, and you can still hear all of them shouting in excitement. The other three seniors exchange goodbyes before parting ways, but Eddie sticks behind. Neither of you move until all the cars are gone except for his van and yours. Why the fuck hasn’t he moved? 
“Is it just you?” Eddie finally speaks, turning toward your piss poor excuse of a hiding spot. “Or is the rest of the team waiting somewhere?”
“I’m- I’m alone.” It scares you once you realize you’re the only two on the property. Probably the only two within a few miles at this point. “Look, I’m really sorry about them. Christina especially. I don’t know when she got so…”
“Bitchy?”
That makes you breathe out a laugh, not realizing you were holding your breath. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
It’s quiet for a moment as he shifts his weight to his other leg, observing you and the whole situation. 
“Do you want to sit by the pool and talk?” It’s starting to feel pretty creepy outside, and the cold night wasn’t helping your wet hair.
“I thought it was locked after hours.” 
You hold up the bronze key, but offer up an explanation anyway. “My uncle is actually the coach. He got me into swimming competitively in the first place. Technically I’m not allowed to bring friends in but…”
“Good thing I’m not really a friend.” He walks past you and you’re a bit frozen in place, not believing he accepted. 
You’re nervous as you unlock the door once more and wave him inside like he would but you give an awkward curtsy. As he’s turning in a small circle to take in how the water reflects off the walls and ceiling, you slip off your shoes and roll up your jeans as far as you can go. He begins to do the same when he sees you sticking your feet in the water. 
“Jesus Chri-! That’s cold!” His voice bounces off the walls, and your laughter follows. 
“Well, yeah, most pools are.” You tuck your hands underneath your thighs and move your right leg around in small circles, disrupting the water. “Didn’t see you at the game.” 
“That kind of stuff is bullshit. Forced conformity.” Before he goes on a rant, he looks at the sly smile on your face, as if you were going to enjoy this topic of conversation. But he knew you’d react either of two ways if he kept on. Confused, or freaked out. So he leans back on his palms and tries to act casual. “And if I’m guessing right, you weren’t there either.”
“Didn’t feel like it.” You give a halfhearted shrug. “Christina really… what she said about your parents— I just don’t see her the same anymore. I don’t know how it happened, but she just got so mean, and everyone’s too scared to say anything because she's the captain. Sorry, I’m- ranting.”
“Christina wasn’t far off.” 
The admission bounces around as you look at him.
“Eddie…”
“It was forever ago.” He kicks the water, causing a small splash. “Aren’t you co-captain anyway?”
“Yeah? So?” You didn’t think he would know that, and it makes you feel all mushy inside that he knows something so simple about you. 
“So don’t you have us much say as her?”
“With her tyrannical rule? No way.” 
“No shame in running, but sometimes you gotta be the hero.”
“Yeah,” you scoff. “I’m sure getting to Mordor would be easier than standing up to Christina.” 
“You’ve read…?”
“No.” That’s a half lie. “Well, sorta. I haven’t gotten very far. I don’t know if it’s my thing, but you talk about it so much, I wanted to check out all the hype.”
Eddie looks taken aback, mouth hung open. 
“Is that what dungeons and dragons is?” You ask curiously, which seems to take him back even more. “I mean everybody says it’s bad, but it’s just nerd shit, right? Sorry, I didn’t mean—“
“It is nerd shit.” He straightens his back at the new topic of conversation. “All it is, is tabletop fantasy role play. Doesn’t have to be like Lord of the Rings. You could have a whole western fantasy campaign. Maybe even in space.” He’s ranting, and god does he know it, but you lean in instead of awkwardly looking away like everyone else does.
“Campaign…?” 
“Well, it’s…” Eddie thinks for a moment before explaining in the most simple of terms how a campaign works. You nod along, enthralled by every detail, even when he derails and starts rambling about character class and stats. He rambles on about their current campaign to help explain better, and he uses silly voices and moves animatedly. You laugh, but not at him. He continues to tease, loving your laugh and that you aren’t making fun of him. His arms flail a bit and he gives a few teasing nudges, but in his excitement he forgets his strength. 
“Wait, Eddie-!” You fall in the water, grabbing on to him in an attempt to stop, but end up pulling him down with you. The both of you come up spluttering, but you end up laughing at the mop of hair on his head. 
“Shit,” he laughs nervously. “It’s deep.”
“Wait. Can you swim?”
“Well, I’m no athlete, but yeah. I can swim.” 
“Well…” you swim forward, a sly smile creeping its way onto your face. “Might as well, right? We’re already in here. You’ll want your jacket off, though. It’s gonna be too much dead weight.”
“Right, I’ll uh…”
“Here, I’ll keep us afloat while you get it off.” 
Before he can understand what’s happening, you wrap your arms around his waist, your face entirely too close to his. With what little space you have, you can see freckles splashing across his face, and you chew on the inside of your cheek to keep your composure. He avoids eye contact as he struggles out of the leather, the tip of his tongue making a surprise appearance, before tossing the jacket aside and it lands with a loud wet slap. 
“Cool. Now good luck catching me!” You splash him a little harsher than you had intended, but you make a dash to escape.
“You’re gonna regret that!” 
You’re a lot better at swimming than he is, almost too fast to be caught, but you slow down after awhile on purpose. As his hand wraps around your ankle, making you squeal, you tell yourself you did it to not wear him out and frustrate him. That you didn’t want to anger him, as he’s pulling you into him and dunking both of you under water. You struggle against his arms, but he’s strong. You can feel the unexpected muscle against your hands, but he lets you go too soon and you both come up gasping for air. 
“Told ya.” water sprays a bit from his mouth as his chest heaves. 
“You cheated.” 
“I never cheat, sweetheart.” He wades toward you slowly, dropping down just until his mouth sinks into the water. 
“Eddie Munson, don’t you dare,” you warn but your tone is too light. “You dunk me again, I’ll- I’ll make sure you smell like chlorine for a week.” 
He doesn’t listen, and you swim backward until your back crashes into the tiled wall. The cold sends a shiver down your spine. Definitely not the way Eddie comes back up, water dripping from his chin and his arms blocking you in on either side of you. His eyes drop to your lips and you find yourself breathing heavily for a completely different reason, your chest brushing against his with every inhale. Neither of you make a move, just admiring every detail you can while breathing each other's air. Just when you think he might, a loud bang comes from one of the locker rooms, making you both jump and look around frantically. You find yourself gripping one of his forearms tightly in shock. 
“We should- we should probably get out.” No one else had access to the pool except your uncle, but you doubted he would come by at midnight. He trusted you to not fool around, and you really hadn’t let him down until now. “I swear the locker rooms are haunted.” 
Still, you don’t move until he does, and swim to the nearest ladder to get out. The only sound is the water from your clothes dripping on the floor, and suddenly you feel exhausted. Your clothes feel heavy as they cling to your skin. Without discussing it, you both start peeling your clothes off, slightly turned away to give each other privacy. As you’re wringing out your shirt, you can’t help but glance over your shoulder at Eddie, and catch the way his shoulder blades move while he does the same. His eyes catch yours and you smile sheepishly before turning back around. You’re both down to your underwear, unsure of how to proceed. 
“We should shower. Alone I mean. You can go to the boys’. There’s towels.” You speed walk away, too self conscious to hang around too long. 
“Wait!” He follows you quickly, careful not to slip. “You’re just gonna drop the fact that the locker rooms are haunted and then leave me alone to fend for myself?”
Your footsteps slow, and you let out a small huff because you know you know you’ll feel guilty until the end of time if you do that to him. 
“There’s going to be rules, Munson.”
“Oh, of course.” He agrees quietly.
“We go in at the same time and undress fully in our own shower. You’re not to come out until I have, and even then, you’re not to look anywhere but your own shower. When I say it’s okay, you can leave, got it?”
“I think you forgot the part about the towels.”
“Do not make me regret this.” 
You’ve never been so self conscious showering until now. Even with a zero percent chance of Eddie seeing you naked, you worry, but you also think about the fact that he’s in the same exact state you’re in right now. That somehow makes the whole thing feel way too intimate, and you can’t believe the first time you got to hang out with your -possible- crush, you both end up naked. If that basic, no detailed rumor got out, you’d surely die of embarrassment. Turning around, you place your face underneath the stream of water, trying so hard to not think about the small glimpse of his torso that you got. The dark patch of hair sneaking underneath his boxers that clung to his thighs from the water. 
“So, are you from Hawkins?” His voice brings you out of your wandering thoughts. You quickly turn the knob from hot to cold in hopes that it keeps you calm.
“My parents are.” Looking down, you watch the water swirl around at your feet. “My grandmother got sick and my uncle couldn’t take care of her by himself. So, we packed up and moved back here, but I can tell my parents are happy to be back home. It’s less demanding than the city.”
“The uncle being coach thing makes a lot more sense now.”
“Not a lot of people know actually.” You turn the water off completely, and wrap your arms around your torso self consciously. “I’m getting out now.”
It isn’t the easiest topic of conversation, but when she had first gotten sick two years ago, your mother went to stay with her for the three months she had been told she would live. When it was clear she was going to hang on longer than expected, they decided it would just be better to move permanently and the old lady was still sticking around. Despite being so sick, you liked hanging out with her most afternoons. Even if she forgot who you were.
You carefully walk out of the shower, towel wrapped around yourself tightly, and as you pass by the stall that Eddie is in, you catch a glimpse in the crack between the curtain and wall. All you manage to catch is the back of his head, arms extended upward to wash out whatever shampoo you’d let him borrow. He begins to turn and you look away with your cheeks burning. You attempt to dry your hair underneath one of the hand dryers, and it isn't long when Eddie comes out, damp boxers back on and using the towel you gave him to rub his hair dry. He pauses seeing you kneeled down, holding the towel to your chest so that nothing gets exposed and he realizes he forgot to wait for your okay, but you don’t seem to mind as you give a soft smile. 
“I’ll grab our clothes.” He says when the dryer finally turns off and leaves you to get somewhat decent. 
He’s suddenly so quiet as he hands over your clothes, no witty comment or joke as the two of you get dressed. All there is between you are stolen glances and nervous smiles. Once fully clothed again, you walk beside him, feeling a little stiff. Not from how your cold clothes stick to you, but from nerves. The soft lights from the pool make his face glow, and your stomach drops in the best way possible. He gets the door for you, and waits with his hands stuffed in his jacket as you lock up. The grass crunches underneath your footsteps, dry from the temperature and lack of rain. Neither of you speak, until you hit the parking lot, cars too far from each other to continue walking together.
“Were they right?” You ask before he gets a chance to escape, arms anxiously crossed over your chest. “My friends. ‘Cause if they were… I think I have one too.”
“Have what?”
Shit. You were too vague.
“A crush, dummy.” 
Realization dawns on his face as he absorbs your confession. He can’t believe it, and the worst smallest part of him thinks you’ve done this whole thing as a joke, and someone is going to pop out with a camera to capture how big of an idiot he’s been. All that happens is you chew on your bottom lip, anxiously waiting for an answer, and he's leaving your heart out in the open for too long. 
“Yes, yeah, they were right.” He watches how you smile and takes a mental image to last forever. “I’m not really quiet about anything.” 
“I just never expected…” you shake your head and look at your feet. “You. You’ve just so suddenly become this big thing in my life.” 
Eddie barely has to take a step to be close enough to take your face in his hands and lift your head up to pull you into a searing kiss. It’s so unexpected that you laugh in surprise against his lips, but he smiles at the sound. When you’ve settled down, you move your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, eager to feel his heartbeat slow to match the rhythm of your own. He kisses you so sweetly, you really do think he’s a gentleman. A quick slip of his tongue doesn’t change your mind either.
“If you don’t stop me,” he gets out between kisses. “We’ll be here all night sweetheart.”
“I like that idea,” you tease as his lips move along your jawline, and down your neck. Your eyelids flutter closed, and you focus on every feeling.
Eddie pulls back, showing some self restraint and you almost whine at the loss of contact.
“You’re gonna get a cold if you stay out here.”
“So will you!”
“I’m going to walk you to your car, and you’re going to go home and get all snuggled in bed, okay?” He traces your bottom lip with his thumb, the ghost of a smile ever present.
“Fine.”
Eddie takes your hand, intertwining your fingers together, and walks the short distance to your car. You make no move to enter, back pressed against the driver side door, and grab him by his jacket. He braces himself with one arm, looking down at you, his other hand stroking your cheek with the back of his pointer finger. The featherlight touch makes you shiver, and you find yourself getting lost in his almost pitch black eyes. Those eyes that are so beautiful and full of lashes, that a cow would be jealous. You pull him in for another kiss, arms wrapping underneath his jacket and around his small waist. He groans into your mouth, not wanting to leave if you were going to kiss him slowly like that.
“I’m personally thanking Christina on Monday.” He gives your knuckles a quick kiss before taking a few steps backwards, not wanting to look away, and turning for his own vehicle.
Christina’s head almost explodes when he does exactly that and plants a kiss on your lips in the cafeteria, but you just act innocent when you take his outstretched hand and move to sit with him at his table. It felt good, and it felt even better when you give her the finger when she wouldn’t stop staring.
6K notes · View notes
diorchids · 5 months
Text
after-class, simon ‘ghost’ riley.
cw; professor!simon, age gap, teacher-student, manipulation, oral, impact (spanking), size kink, degradation, rough sex.
Tumblr media
your professor was harsh. grading-wise, he never let the smallest things slide. he docked points pettily, even for minor errors. 
“thank you for your participation today, class dismissed.” as your classmates began to pack up, preparing for an exhausting day tomorrow. “but you,” he looks at you, standing in that small dress, in one of the front rows. “you will stay.” 
your mouth was left slightly agape, brushing the hair out of your face as you questioned yourself. did you forget to submit an assignment? a discussion post overdue?
you nod slowly as the last people begin to make their way out the doors. he spoke from his desk, sitting on it as he motioned for you to come down, “what are you waiting for? here, come here.” he said it in a way that made you feel dumb. you made your way to him, fingernails digging into your palm, sure to leave marks. 
you stood a few feet away from him, keeping an appropriate distance from simon. after all; he’s your professor. 
“your research paper; it was lousy. i wouldn’t have expected it from you, to be honest,” he said bluntly, emotions weren’t very visible. he was just… neutral. 
your face—on the other hand—was hot, a soft frown crept onto it as your head filled with thoughts. this was bad, but you couldn’t help but think of how long he must’ve thought about you and your paper. “i… professor riley, i honestly thought it was my best work,” you continued, “the writing was—” 
he interrupted blatantly, and you slowly inched closer subconsciously. “simon. call me simon.” your fingers fiddled with your dress before nodding. “yes, sir—simon.”
you stood in front of him as you two sat in an awkward silence, while he examined your body. your dress was just too short, not appropriate for class, too much showing. his big hand reached out to your dress, gripping and tugging it as you watched silently. your eyes were wide, his eyes were half-lidded as he sat back. “dress code.” 
it wasn’t a dress code. you have no dress code—he just wanted to touch you. 
he exhaled and pinched his temples, “y’know,” he sighed, “you’re a great writer, you know what you’re doing. but this… it’s unacceptable,” you’re not used to letting him down like this, always making sure to do your best in all of your courses. 
“you’re a big girl now. you’re borderline failing my course.” 
you blink back tears as you dig your nails deeper into your palm. you’re so sensitive, can’t even take a bit of criticism. he continued speaking as you listened intently. his hand slowly crept its way to your leg as you watched shamefully, failing to stop the man. 
“this could be bad for you, hm?” he asked, tilting his head. “i’m sure you wanna write in the future, don’t you?” he stood up, your tall professor towering over you, “you let me finish what i’ve started, and i could up your grade a bit.” he took advantage of the size difference, your height in comparison to him was, at the very least, small. 
you hesitated to nod your head. he was a professor wanting to take advantage of a student; how vile is that? 
“perfect.” 
you stood there aimlessly before he gently took one of your hands into his own and guided it toward his zipper. he held your hand against his bulge, urging you to squeeze and give him a good rub. 
simon lets out a low groan as you take his cock into your mouth. he cups your head gently, holding you in place as you begin to suck and lick on him.
his cock was thick, dragging in and out of your mouth as he pushed his hips back and forth, your warm throat taking him so well. he held the sides of your head, and you gagged around his ridiculous length each time he pushed into your mouth fully. 
“disgusting. look at you.” he pistoned his cock deeper as your eyes welled with tears before they down your face. his fingers tangle in your hair before pushing your head further down, your nose nestled in the short hairs along the base of his girthy cock. 
you needed air, you pulled off him abruptly as you coughed messily, catching your breath. your lips wrapped around his red, swollen tip perfectly while your hand stroked the base softly. 
his hips start to move rhythmically, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth roughly. he grabs your head tightly and starts thrusting deeper into your throat, pushing past the back of your mouth. “take it all. just like that.” he continued to use your throat as a fleshlight.
simon’s cock throbs in your throat, his balls slapping against your chin. your head is pounding by now, your legs burn and your neck hurts. don’t forget what you’re doing this for. 
“fuckin’ delicious, fuck.” he grinds against your face harder, his hips moving at a rapid pace as he approaches his climax. 
he groans loudly, his hot seed shooting down your throat in powerful spurts. he pumps his thick cum deep into your mouth, filling it to the brim. he continues to hold you in place, his cock twitching as he unloads it all into your mouth. “swallow it all,” he said in between labored breaths, still softly thrusting himself into your mouth.
“what an angel you are, hm?” you choke and gag as he pulls out, a thick string of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. he pants heavily with a smile plastered on his face while looking down at you in satisfaction. 
you’re bent over his desk as he delivers another painful strike across your ass, dress driven up to your hips as you squirmed. “you’re almost ready.” he said, big hand soothing your burning cheek. 
“hurts s’bad, sir—simon!” you cried out while his thick fingers made its way to your cunt. his thumb sat on your slit as he massaged your clit through your panties, small cherries on all over them. his finger dipped into your underwear, running over your wetness as you felt shame wash over you. 
doing all this just to not fail? letting your professor touch you like this—sucking him off while your friends were probably asleep. desperate was an understatement.
he played with your cunt ‘till you came all over him, poor thing can’t control your body, huh?
his thick cockhead tapped against your flush cunt, all sensitive and puffy from the abuse it’s suffered. you felt how big his cock was as it poked at your hole, his large hand guiding it up and dragging it all over your hole. he pushed into you as you cried in pain, tears rolling as he bottomed out inside of you. at least tried to.
his hands rest on your waist, gripping your hips as he fills you up to the hilt, groaning out disgusting degrading words, mumbling ‘bout how tight you are. 
“god, you’re tight. such a little thing—takin’ your teacher like this,” he delivers a harsh strike to your soft ass, “knew you’d be up for it.”
he dragged his heavy cock out of you just to plunge it back in, deeper. “mr. ri—simon! s’too big! n-no, no, no, slow down!” you cried out loudly as he held you in place, making sure you took him all the way. 
he chuckles softly and begins to thrust faster, his cock stretching you open as it slides in and out. he leans down to capture one of your nipples in between his index thumb, rolling and pinching harshly as he fucks you. “it's okay, you can take it. you’re gonna take it. you want a good grade.” his words reassuring, but also bits of condescension poked through. 
salty tears fell onto his desk as your legs trembled from the overstimulating heat in your tummy. 
simon picks up the pace, his hips slapping against you as he takes you harder and faster. he continues to roll your nipple, his free hand moving to grope your ass cheek. “tell your—tell your teacher how much you love his dick, tell me.” 
this was odd. he knows it’s wrong, to do this with a student. he acknowledges it, yet he loves the power he has over you. you’re like a puppet. 
you act like you don’t want it. you do. the way you suck him right back in, the way your gummy walls grip and squeeze his thick cock, you need this. 
“love it… love it s’much! feels so good, simon…” you cried loudly, making sure he heard you. 
his thrusts become deeper and harder, his cock hitting your deepest spots with each powerful stroke. simon’s free hand leaves your ass cheek to wrap around your throbbing clit, rubbing it roughly against your sensitive folds. each time his finger runs over your puffy clit, your walls tensed around him, practically choking his length. “that’s it… that’s it, cum for me.” 
with a final, rough thrust, simon groans loudly as he empties himself deep inside you. he slows his movements, his cock pulsating rhythmically inside you. he looks down at you, affectionately stroking your hair. he holds you tightly, your bodies moving in a rhythm as he continues to pump his seed into you.
he thrusts a few more times, getting those last spurts of cum out. 
“we can—we can discuss your grade tomorrow. how’s that sound?” his hand soothed your ass as you nodded. 
Tumblr media
682 notes · View notes
starsforselene · 6 months
Text
Prove it - Mingyu x Reader
Tumblr media
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x Afab reader
Rating: explicit MDNI
Contains: Fingering, breast play, light ass smacking, doggy style, little dirty talk, unprotected sex, coming on body
Word count: 2.7k
Summary: During a late night hangout session, you and your friend Mingyu get into a discuss over whether all guys fall into the "boob man" or "ass man" category. Mingyu insists he's both. Naturally, further exploration is required.
Note: This is just Mingyu smut I have no excuse.
--
“Oh, c’mon! Be honest with yourself and with me!”
“I am being honest! I swear it, I don’t have a preference!” Mingyu exclaims as he leans forward on the couch, eyes bright with laughter.
You huff and shake your head as you fold your legs up on the couch, fighting your own laughter.
“Kim Mingyu, every man is either an ass man or a boobs man. The whole ‘I don’t have a preference’ thing is just a way to seem like a sensitive guy. In touch with your feminine side or whatever they say.”
Mingyu rolls his eyes and leans back again. He’s not annoyed, not truly, the smirk on his face gives him away. You’re half a pizza and two soju bottles deep into your routine weekend hang out and the conversation has somehow ended up here. Some would think it strange to ask your best friend what he prefers on a woman but after years of being friends nothing is off limits anymore; you know nearly everything about each other. Maybe part of you just wants to finally know everything about each other.
“I know that you have a strict preference for douchebags who pretend they’re more mature than they are to get into your pants but, I promise you that I genuinely don’t prefer one over the other. I-” he pauses and looks at you, suddenly a little more flushed. “I don’t have to prove myself to you, you know.”
His hesitation peaks your interest, now you have to know. You sit up and lean closer to him, gaze boring into him. He chuckles but doesn’t break eye contact, heat searing through you as his dark eyes meet yours. You inhale sharply, taken aback by the sudden pulsing between your thighs, fighting the urge to bite your lip when you see him lick his momentarily.
“So what were you going to say? That you don’t have a preference ‘cause it’s all just so great?”
He laughs and runs a hand down his face, leaning his head back against the sofa. He’s splayed out almost fully across it now, leaving you just enough space to still be sharing the couch with him. Typically, the fact that he’s sitting there in just a tank top and some shorts doesn’t bother you–he’s just a friend, after all–but his broad shoulders and large arms are just so…there tonight. He’s gotten bigger lately and you’ve enjoyed teasing him on his new hobby but now your body is reacting to the results of his hard work in ways you find surprising. The silence pulls you out of your thoughts, realizing a little too late that you were blatantly staring at the way his pecs stretch the material of his tank top.
“See something you like?” he says, raising his eyebrows comically as he flexes his chest.
“Stop it! Don’t change the subject!” You swat his arm–his very firm arm–and laugh.
“The answer is yes, okay? I don’t have a preference because it’s all great and I love every single inch of a woman’s body. As all men should by the way, even though they don’t.”
The way he holds your gaze as he replies shoots heat down your spine and into your core. Arousal floods your panties, causing you to clench your thighs together. You’re confused at how your best friend is managing to turn you on like this.
Mingyu’s eyes widen the smallest amount as he drops his gaze down to your mouth. In a panic you gasp, releasing your bottom lip in the process. Shit, were you just lustfully biting your lip at your best friend…and he…seems to like it? You search his face for hints of disgust or humor but find nothing but his widened pupils. You sit back against the couch, putting distance between you and whatever the fuck is happening right now.
“Did my answer satisfy you?” he asks, voice husky.
“Satisfy me? It takes a lot more than a response to do that, Gyu.” It amazes you how well you act unaffected when in reality you’re coming apart at the seams.
“I’m sure it takes plenty to satisfy you,” he retorts with a chuckle as he sits up straighter with what you think is a sly attempt on his part to adjust himself.
When he catches you looking he smirks; you played right into it–he wanted you to look. You take a breath in hopes that it looks like you’re annoyed when you’re pretty riled up.
“Oh? Are you trying to say something?”
“Yeah, actually. I am.”
You laugh despite the heat radiating under your skin. If he wants to play this game you can match his energy; that’s not a problem. You square your shoulders and stare him down, willing your heartbeat to settle even though your pulse has been racing since he mentioned you being satisfied.
“Are you insinuating that you can satisfy me?”
Mingyu swallows hard and you preen with satisfaction at how you’ve affected him. It’s short lived, however, as he leans forward to bridge the gap between you. The air feels charged, his eyes meeting yours with a fire you’re not quite used to seeing from him.
“I just want to show you that I really don’t have a preference, that’s all. Plus, I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about what it would be like to satisfy you,” he says with a sly smile.
All bravado leaves you along with the air in your lungs, you blink a few times to make sure you’re not dreaming. It takes only a few seconds to gather yourself enough to respond, the words leaving your mouth before you can begin to question it.
“Fine, prove it.”
He closes the distance between you with a low growl, capturing your mouth with his in a kiss that leaves you reeling. You wrap your hands around his neck, tugging him closer as he deepens the kiss, tongue claiming your mouth. With a groan, he pulls you by your waist until you’re straddling him. You can feel how hard he is already, his clothed cock pressing against your aching core.
Your hips grind against him, seeking friction to quell the aching between your thighs, moaning into the kiss as you feel his cock twitch in response. His grip tightens on your waist, moving your hips faster in time to his own grind against you. It should feel silly to be dry humping like desperate teenagers but hearing Mingyu’s whimpers and his body reacting to yours is intoxicating. Without giving it much thought you’re clawing at his shirt to get it off him, tugging at the material until you’re forced to break apart to take it off. He returns the favor and rids you of your shirt, eyes locked on yours, lips swollen from kissing—he looks downright sinful.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” He asks.
“I need to know if you’re full of shit so, yeah, I’m down.”
Mingyu chuckles and rolls his eyes; he grabs you by the back of the knee and before you can protest you’re on your back. He hovers over you, slotting between your legs with ease. You can feel him, hot and heavy against your core; you can’t help but roll your hips up to seek more, making him hiss and tut at you.
“I’m not surprised that you’re an impatient little brat. Sadly, you’re going to have to wait. I have a point to prove.”
Before you can retort, Mingyu shuts you up with a searing kiss. His hand moves down your side to still your hips, squeezing you once in a warning. You groan into his mouth, your hands sliding up his back to drag your nails down his skin. He shivers against you and you love how you can affect him just as much as he does you.
He starts trailing sloppy kisses down your jaw, stopping to nip just behind your ear, making you gasp and whimper. He smirks against your skin as he continues his way down with other small kisses, bites and soothing licks. You’re panting by now, core throbbing with need with every touch of his lips on your hot skin. His hands expertly snake behind your back until they reach your bra clasp, undoing it with the ease of someone who’s had the practice. You shimmy the straps down your arms and toss the garment aside.
You half expect him to attack you like some kind of over-excited teenager but he doesn’t; he drinks in your form with an almost reverent awe, making you shiver. Mingyu smirks when he catches you watching him, huffing a laugh before kissing you again.
It’s too brief of a kiss, his lips leave yours to trail down the column of your neck as he makes his way down to your breasts. He eagerly sucks a pebbled nipple into his mouth with a groan as his other hand kneads at your other breast. Your back arches in response, soft moans making way to more desperate whimpers and pleads when he tugs playfully on your nipple.
“You sound so pretty like that. Can’t wait to hear you come for me,” he mumbles against your skin as he makes his way over to your other breast.
Your only response is another strangled groan as you tangle your fingers in his hair to tug him closer. Not that you need to because he doesn’t seem to have anywhere else to be; he takes his time licking and sucking on your sensitive buds, never neglecting either breast as he moans along with you. He’s painfully hard against your cunt, cock twitching every time his name leaves your lips, he grinds into you as he ravishes you and it’s nearly driving you over the edge. You’re starting to get overstimulated, half-crazed and desperately wet when you finally beg for mercy.
“Gyu, please, please, I need you. Please,” you breathe as your legs wrap around him.
Mingyu looks up at you, lips deliciously swollen and dark, and laughs. For a moment, you think he’s going to shrug and ignore you but he doesn’t. He sits up and starts tugging your shorts and panties off, you lift yourself off the couch to help him take them off and pretty soon they’re somewhere on the living room floor.
He looks at you, eyes dark with need and runs his hand down your stomach, caressing your skin until he reaches where you need him most. You gasp as his finger dips between your folds, finding your swollen clit and circling it gently as he watches the way his hand moves. You watch him as he sucks in a breath and bites his lip, mesmerized that he’s just so into you. Your lids flutter closed with a groan when he slips a finger inside you, pressing it against your front wall until you’re grinding your hips into his hand with pathetic mewls and whimpers of his name.
Stars explode behind your eyes when he adds another finger, moving them in and out in time with each roll of your hips, scissoring you open for him. He’s moaning with you, low grunts of appreciation every time your walls squeeze around his fingers and how good he sounds is making the room spin and your release draw closer. Mingyu doesn’t miss a beat, using his other hand to circle your clit until you’re gripping the side of the couch and chanting his name like it’s the only word you know how to say, your climax bursting through you in quick waves. You’re left panting and floaty on the couch, but not for long.
“Turn around,” he growls as he undoes the tie on his sweatpants.
You oblige, flipping over and getting on all fours, backing your hips up until they met his. You notice he’s still wearing clothes and you pout, grinding against him until he grabs your waist and stops you.
“Can you learn to be just a little bit patient? I’m enjoying the view,” he teases as he grabs a handful of your ass.
“I promise the view is better once you’re fucking me. I’ll let you smack my ass, too just so you can prove yourself.”
This earns you a huffed laugh from him and soon you can feel his hard cock sliding between your folds, teasing your clit before lining up with your entrance, hands gripping your waist. He’s still long enough that you open your mouth to say something but just as you’re about to say something he finally penetrates you, sliding inside you slow enough to make your shiver as he stretches your walls.
Mingyu sucks in a breath through clenched teeth when he bottoms out, gripping you tighter like he knows that you already want to start moving, craving the sweet friction of him. Your walls pulse around him and you both moan; your head drops forward as you whine, circling your hips despite his hold on you.
“This is so much better than what I imagined. You feel so fucking amazing,” he groans as he starts rocking his hips, slowly, like he’s wanting to savor it.
“I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about this, too. Not like this though but it’s fine,” you reply with a smirk.
Mingyu stills, you can hear the head tilt in his voice. “Oh? Like how then?”
“Mmmm…you’re usually fucking me faster, harder. But if this is more your speed–oh fuck–”
He smacks your ass before gripping your hips again, picking up his pace until the room fills with the lewd sounds of his hips slamming into you repeatedly. He’s angled himself perfectly, each thrust in hitting your front wall hard enough that you’re breathless and dizzy, the rope in your belly already impossibly tight. You’re gripping the couch cushions for dear life, moaning his name every time his palm connects with the soft flesh of your backside, stars beginning to float in your vision as your walls start to clench around him.
“You gonna come already, baby? You talked such big game about taking me hard, what happened? Too much?” he coos as he continues to fuck you relentlessly.
The only thing you can respond with is a drawn out whine as he continues to fuck you, deep thrusts that hit exactly where you need. You can’t string words–let alone thoughts–together to retort, all you can manage is pathetic begging and pleading for more. Mingyu’s happy to oblige, hands gripping your ass cheeks as he kneads them to ease some of the sting from earlier. You start meeting his thrusts, lost in the feeling of him filling you completely, incoherent praises and pleas falling from your lips as your release draws closer.
“That’s it baby, feels so good. Keep fucking yourself like that, wanna feel you come around my cock,” Mingyu groans as his fingers find your neglected clit to rub tight, fast circles.
You come, eyes squeezed shut as fireworks burst in your vision, your body shaking with every contraction that rolls up from your toes and crashes over you. If it wasn’t for Mingyu holding you up against him as he fucks you through it, you’d collapse onto the couch from the dizzying release that rocks through you. He’s not far behind, hips jerking erratically as he tries to prolong your pleasure, deep moans and pathetic whimpers falling from his lips as he pumps into you wildly.
He pulls out without warning, the emptiness a little jarring as he groans behind you, hand on your ass to stop you from moving. You feel the warm ropes of his come against your skin as he groans your name breathlessly between deep moans.
He’s up before you have time to make a comment about your situation, disappearing into the bathroom down the hall and coming back with a washcloth.
“Sorry I didn’t ask, felt it was a better option than the alternative,” he comments as he wipes you down.
“I’m on birth control but I guess you wouldn’t know. Thanks for uh, cleaning up the mess for me.”
“Would be rude if I didn’t, you know? Anyway, hope that you believe me now,” Mingyu chides with a smile.
“I’m not convinced, if I’m honest. I’ll need further research to come to a clear conclusion,” you say as you get up to get dressed.
“Oh, you’ll be coming, alright.”
815 notes · View notes
simpjaes · 6 months
Note
currently thinking about frat!jayke fucking u in the hot tub infront of a major crowd of people… 😣 sitting ontop of jake whilst taking it in the back from jay as music (preferably “all the time” by jeremiah >_<) blasts loudly amongst the speakers, just to add a lil smth smth to such a sensual moment
not sure why but the thought of having sex in a bikini is so hot :// the fondling of straps and jaykes veiny hands in general 💗
i am speaking from my grave.
warnings: anal with no prep // drunk fucking @ party
ah, you're wearing your bikini with the ties intentionally so whoever you have your eye on can have the easiest access possible at this shitty and trashy college party.
what you weren't expecting what having an eye for two people. Jay and Jake, the two guys you've seen occasionally on campus. They were always together, best friends or some shit.
you wouldn't know, your best friend chose to go to a different college out of state, but whatever.
what you also weren't expecting was for the two dudes who are always together to....share a girl??? publicly? as if laying claim to you blatantly showed their status over everyone else?
it kind of did, if you're being honest, because you cannot hold in the moans even when you fucking try. right here, shamelessly moaning for all ears to hear and all eyes to ogle at.
all cameras to record.
whatever.
what started with five or so people in this hot tub ended with just the three of you, where jay worked his magic through his hands and jake works his through words.
you were a goner, with or without the alcohol in your system to be honest. if jay were to untie the side of your bottoms the same way he just did when you were sober? you'd probably have untied the other side for him.
and when jake pulls you onto his lap? making you feel weightless in the bubbling hot water as you sat directly on it, and slid right down on him without so much as noticing when he pulled it out of his shorts? ah, made it even easier to not be shocked when you felt jay against your back.
his chest wet, dripping with that same warm water as he made sure you were right where you needed to be for his best friend.
your arousal that hit you like a ton a bricks within seconds, paired with jay's cock teasing you right against your ass? whatever, at this point you want to be fucked in all possible ways by the two men against you right now.
and they do just that. jay soothing you against your ear through the pain of him sliding straight into your ass with words of "aw, you're just gonna take him?", pretending like you definitely didn't need prep. jake, under you with his own words of "fuck, relax. squeezing me so tight-", holding your waist with a white knuckled grip, forcing both you and himself to try and adjust to the feeling of jay's thick cock forcing it's way into too-tight of a space.
ah, all three of you are panting by the time your body relaxes for both cocks, overheated, overstuffed, and there for all eyes to see within the span of a few minutes. not that you care. surely you will by the time monday comes around though.
except you don't. Because now you have two hot guys???? walking beside you??????? all the fucking time???????? constantly trying to get inside of you again?????????????????????
ah, college life. where you thought the grades would fuck you harder than any man could. And that would be 100% correct if it weren't for the fact that you didn't exactly factor in two hot guys :/
545 notes · View notes
romancerepulsed · 9 months
Text
maybe this is a "hot take," but it's something i genuinely believe is true. aphobes can broadly be sorted into 3 categories: the uninformed, the bigot, and the bully. there is overlap between all 3, and i'm sure there are some people out there who are aphobic in a fun new way that i can't possibly conceive of yet, but i think these categories are fairly accurate and helpful for an aspec to recognize.
the uninformed aphobe is what it sounds like– they either don't know anything about the aspectrum or they've been fed false information about it. this is the only type of aphobe that is ever worth engaging with, and only to politely correct them and point them towards resources that would help them broaden their understanding. i'll be completely honest though: you'd be pretty damn lucky if you managed to actually singlehandedly change their mind. if they're not receptive to your corrections, simply move on. it's not worth the headache. you at least gave them something to think about.
the bigot, in contrast, is absolutely never worth engaging with. the bigoted aphobe is aphobic simply because aspec people are queer and they hate queer people. terfs famously used (and still continue to use) aphobic rhetoric as a sort of gateway drug for transphobia. the people who will argue that aspec folks aren't queer are often the same people who despise us because they associate us with queerness.
the third aphobe is actually the most common on this website, i think, and they're the reason i'm making this post. the aphobic bully may know full well the fundamentals of the aspectrum, but they will simplify and misrepresent it on purpose in an attempt to make aspec people look bad. aspec people have long been "acceptable targets" of bullying on this site for a reason that is fairly obvious to me but one i haven't seen anyone else point out: aspec people are largely neurodivergent. it's really no coincidence that ace discourse and cringe culture peaked at around the same time– they were one in the same, and the treatment aspec and autistic people received were (and still are) damn near identical. portraying aspec people as cringey teenagers who watched too many cartoons and are just too socially awkward for anyone to love them or whatever... it's a sentiment thats existed for years and years now. it took me a while to realize it, but this is why so many "tumblr funnymen" and other assorted popular blogs were/are aphobes too– they've got egos the size of china but they know they can't get away with blatantly picking on autistic people. so they'll hide behind a guise of aspec exclusionism, something that's unfortunately viewed as a real and valid ideology for someone to have. even aside from the thinly veiled ableism, bullies are always coming from a place of insecurity and projecting it onto other people. i've found that a lot of the most vicious aphobes are people who are struggling romantically or sexually. you can see them post about it, you can see even in the most recent discourse so many of these people are deeply stressed and hurt from whatever romantic or sexual struggles they're facing. to them, someone being unconcerned with those sorts of things is almost offensive because it means so much to them. they read it as a challenge to their own allo identity. so, why not take out that frustration on the aspecs?
it goes without saying that the bully isn't worth engaging with, either. they want to rile you up because it makes them feel better about themselves. don't give them that satisfaction.
1K notes · View notes
wqnwoos · 8 months
Text
jeonghan is staring at you from across the room with unnatural intensity, and you don’t know how to point it out without being rude.
because, on the off chance that you’re mistaken and he’s actually transfixed by the appealingly blank wall above your head, it would be embarrassing. horrendously, irremediably embarrassing.
but you know yoon jeonghan like the back of your hand, and so you don’t think you’re mistaken. in fact, you think you know him better than the back of your hand, because if someone actually asked you to describe the back of your hand, you’d be fucked — but if someone asked you to describe jeonghan, you could wax lyrical.
you could tell them about how you met, three years ago. (freshman orientation, a haze of embarrassment and icebreakers.) you could tell them about his coffee order (black) and his favourite colour (also black) and the classes he hates and the classes he loves. you could tell them about how his eyes have a certain light to them, something you’ve never seen in anyone before, animated and effulgent and brilliant. you could tell them about his family; his friends; the way his fingers slot between yours; the way he laughs when he means it and the way he laughs when he doesn’t.
you could also tell this hypothetical someone that you’ve been in love with jeonghan for the past two years. and that he is totally, completely, utterly oblivious.
“your apartment’s ugly.”
(you could also tell them that he has a knack for being honest at entirely the wrong time, and you’re pretty sure he does it on purpose.)
“you know,” you say, dragging yourself out of your thoughts, “when most people want to break a silence, they ask a question or something.”
he doesn’t deign to respond.
“insults tend to be a last resort,” you add helpfully.
“not an insult,” he returns leisurely, sprawling across your couch, draping his legs over your lap. “you just need some life in here.”
“i’m alive. you’re alive. we’re both in here.” you shove his legs off. “besides. i just moved in.”
“you should get a lizard.”
your lack of surprise is a testament to how long you’ve been friends. “i’m not getting a lizard. are you hungry?”
“you could call it… barney.”
“i feel like having pizza.”
“or maybe lola, if it’s a girl. lola is nice.”
“i think we’re having two completely different conversations here,” you decide. and push his legs off you. again.
but this time, in a fluid movement you don’t fully comprehend the mechanics of, he swivels his body so his head rests in your lap.
it’s the simplest of movements, and somehow you feel like you can’t breathe. time slows and speeds all at once — heart in your throat, eyes on his for all of a moment and a half. you almost hate when he does this; such casual affection sends you reeling.
it takes you a moment to recover, and you realise he’s talking; “what?” you blurt. “i didn’t hear you.”
he casts you a strange look, but doesn’t comment. “pizza is fine, i said.”
“okay,” you reply, a second too late. “i’ll, uh. order that. now, i mean.”
jeonghan gazes intently up at you, long hair splayed on your thighs, brown eyes tinged with the faintest concern. “you’re being weird,” he says, but soft enough to come out worried — caring, more than anything. “is everything okay?”
you think back to him staring at you, just a few minutes ago. you think back to his legs on your lap with casual familiarity. you think back to freshman orientation too, the memory of his easy smile and shorter hair.
you try to think back to the moment you fell in love with him, but you can’t pinpoint that. that was less of a fall, more of a slow, inevitable realisation.
you force a smile. “everything’s fine.”
“your pants, ___,” he says, a wry smile tugging up his lips. “they are on fire.”
“i’m not lying,” you say, in a way that is so obviously and blatantly a lie. there’s a reason you’re not majoring in theatre, and it lies in your inability to keep up a facade when pressed.
jeonghan usually doesn’t press, so you’re not sure why he’s like this now — laid across your lap so you can’t look away, only breaking his gaze for those slow, lazy blinks.
“i’m gonna order that pizza.” your voice sounds hollow, even to you, so it’s not really a surprise when jeonghan sits up and takes your hand to stop you moving away.
“wait a bit,” he says, tenderness — softness, even — seeping into his voice. “i just want to say. i know.”
fuck.
your voice quavers ever so slightly. “you know? what do you know?”
as if it isn’t obvious. as if you aren’t obvious. it’s only taken two years of pining for you to get to this point; for him to get to this realisation; for you to face this rejection.
“i know,” he says softly, carefully, “about your feelings. for me, i mean.”
there’s a silence that seems to stretch forever. but it’s not more than three seconds, maximum.
“feelings of strong hatred and ill will, maybe,” you finally say, a swift rebuttal of the conversation you think he wants to have. i’m sorry, i didn’t know you felt that way, i didn’t mean to…. you’re not doing this — not with him.
jeonghan still has your hand encased in his, fiddling with your fingers, tracing palm lines as he speaks. “i’m being serious. i just don’t know how to say — how to say what i want. not well enough.”
“jeonghan,” you sigh, because it seems that you are doing this. “you don’t have to — ”
“i love you.”
it’s odd, what three simple words can do to a person. time doesn’t quite slow down, but suddenly you are so acutely aware of everything. the clock on your wall that’s been stuck on 3:52pm since you put it up. the lightbulb jeonghan has promised to change for you is flickering. his hand is warm and soft and comfortable, and it’s still holding onto yours.
there’s a small smile working its way up your face. you don’t feel breathless, like you imagined you might. you feel like a weight has been eased off your ribcage; and under it, your heart feels full, so incredibly full. “you’re serious?”
jeonghan smiles back at you, that inexpressible light filling his eyes. “am i ever not?”
“you never are,” you say, but you’re laughing, recklessly leaning into him, curling against him in a way you’ve done a million times before, but never quite like this. you’ve never been able to press a kiss to the side of his jaw, never been able to feel him reciprocate with one on your temple — until now.
“are you not going to say it back?” he murmurs, smiling against your hair.
“do i need to?” you ask, angling back to look at him with mirth in your eyes. “you know, don’t you?”
Tumblr media
an / i have finally written (and posted) something and i HATE it i’m sorry.
perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @wondering-out-loud @graybaeismytae @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin @icyminghao @smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars @immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts @astrozuya @doublasting @yepimthatonequirkyteenager @qaramu @weird-bookworm @phenomenalgirl9 @lightnjng @strnsvt @onlyyjeonghan @athanasiasakura
644 notes · View notes
daistea · 4 months
Note
I love love love the scenarios of Kabru with a person who is oblivious, but what about someone who is hyper aware of how other people feel towards them as a defense mechanism? Someone who is constantly aware of everything that's going on and it's something they can't turn off but as a result hates guessing games and won't act unless the other person is genuinely forward. They aren't bad and are polite but will blatantly ignore hints. I think there's another layer of hilarity in that one.
Ya! I don't know if I captured what you're looking for, to be honest. But I tried my best, and I hope you like it!
1600 words !
no tw or spoilers I don't think
Cracks - Kabru x reader
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Tumblr media
Your heart was a fortress. There were moats and ballistas and canons aimed straight at anyone who dared approach. You weren’t sure when the fortress walls raised, but you knew when another stone was added, when they grew higher. 
And Kabru’s charming smile only piled more stones atop the wall. 
That smile was intended for another purpose, you knew. He’d realize that soon enough, but until then, you would maintain eye contact and nod along with his conversations. He didn’t talk about himself often, but he had stories to tell, anecdotes, theories. And he wanted your opinion on every single one. 
“What do you think?” Kabru asked. It was a line cast into the water with bait on the hook. It was the sliding of a chess piece across the board. And he didn’t mean to play these games, you also knew that. It was just how he was. 
“I don’t know,” was all you gave him. 
Kabru nodded to himself. He was good at covering up his disappointment, but you could practically see the gears turning in his pretty head. The only thing you weren’t sure of was why, exactly, he had wanted to see you today. 
Finally, he returned his attention to you, “Do I make you uncomfortable?”
You felt yourself tense. Your shoulders slumped a little and you uncrossed your arms— he was probably reading your closed-off body language, but that was all simply habit, not a result of discomfort. 
“No, you don’t,” and you meant it. You weren’t about to inform him of why you never took the bait, but you’d throw him a bone. “You really don’t. I just… Wait, that was a very straightforward question, Kabru. How uncharacteristic of you.”
“I can be straightforward when I want to be,” He sent you another brilliant smile, though the look in his eyes told you that it was genuine. 
“Why do you want to be at this moment?”
Kabru looked away. He stared at his barely-touched mug of ale, doing his best not to shift uncomfortably on the bar stool. Yet, you saw it; the slight bounce of his knee, how his nose wrinkled. 
Finally: “I’m figuring something out,” he said. 
“Aren’t you always?” You teased. 
And he sent you another genuine smile with a hint of something, you weren’t sure. How annoying. Was it affection? You decided to push the thought aside for the sake of your sanity. 
“Yeah, you’ve got me,” he put his hands up and laughed, then took a sip of his ale as if needing something to do with himself to ease the tension that was slowly seeping between you. Tension: a noxious, invisible gas. It was about to give you a headache. 
You turned on the stool to face him, “What’s on your mind?”
Kabru’s smile turned wry, “Now you’re the one prying.” Your heart clenched. That was another stone on the wall. He knew you and it made you want to run away as fast as you could. 
“I guess,” you said, “Yeah, I do that sometimes.”
“I don’t mind,” Kabru murmured. 
What a lie. 
˚ · • . ° .
“Why are you two like this?” Rin asked. Her eyes were narrowed and her hands pressed down on her hips. Both you and Kabru took in the sight and began silently reaching conclusions. 
Kabru was the first to answer. “What do you mean? What’re we like?” He wasn’t confused in the least but made a good show of it. 
“Like this!” She gestured at you both, how close you were sitting with thighs and shoulders brushing. “You’re constantly dancing around each other and, frankly, it’s obnoxious.”
She was right. One step towards each other always resulted in two steps back. Kabru would create a verbal maze that you would instantly get lost in. You knew the general layout and that you should go a certain direction, but you never did find the exit. 
“Sorry,” you offered, hoping it would quell Rin’s annoyance. (It did not.)
“Are you two aware that…” Rin paused. She seemed to choke on her words as her cheeks slowly went pink. You and Kabru both stared. And stared. And Stared. Finally, Rin groaned, “Nevermind! This is your problem to figure out. Not mine.”
True enough. 
“She’s right,” Kabru murmured after she left. He lowered his head and looked at you, trapping you beneath his spotlight. Unfortunately, you had stage fright. 
“Right about what?” You asked, standing up to create distance; that spotlight was uncomfortably warm. But the lack of that warmth from Kabru’s body next to yours only created a gaping hole in your chest. (You'd have to fill that hole with sweets and distractions later.)
Kabru pursued your attention, “About our feelings, of course.”
Your feelings? At that moment, you were feeling quite shaken as cracks began to run up your fortress walls. 
“What feelings?” You asked flatly. 
His hopeful little smile instantly fell and he started to shift uncomfortably, “Our feelings.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Don’t make me say it.”
“I’m not making you say anything,” you corrected, taking a step backward, preparing your retreat. 
“Yes you are,” Kabru began to argue desperately, “I’ve spent months trying to give you hints! I told you ‘the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?’ and you started talking about how the craters kind of looked like Laois’s face. I compared our hand sizes together as an excuse to touch you, and all you said was that I have girlish hands!”
“You do.”
“You know me,” he grit his teeth, standing up from the bench, “you know how hard this is for me. I’ve given you so many hints, so many opportunities, but you’ve ignored them all!”
Hints. Even the word made you frown. Kabru wanted to play guessing games all day, while all you wanted was a simple game of truth and dare where everybody only picked truth. 
Sometimes, you couldn’t help but wonder why you loved this man. He always banged at the walls of your fortress and, recently, some stones had begun to crumble. You added more, but they would only fall when he decided to say something outright on rare occasion.
“I don’t like games,” was all you said. 
“I know,” Kabru exhaled and ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes, “I know. I’m trying, really. Usually, I’m pretty adaptable, but this is just… Different.”
“And… You don’t like it?”
“I–” his mouth opened and closed before he looked at you straight on, “I don’t hate it, honestly. It’s different in a good way, as if it’s forcing me to be better with my words.”
“You’re already good with your words. You’re too good with them, that’s the problem.”
Kabru watched you for a moment. You allowed him to analyze you despite how it made your skin tingle. After a bit, he nodded to himself. “Do you want to get a drink?” He asked. 
“...I brought my water canteen with me, so I really don’t—
“You’re just blatantly ignoring my hints, aren’t you?” Kabru announced. His eyes widened and he threw his hands into the air. Whirling away, he gripped his hair and groaned. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. 
“Maybe you should try a new method,” you offered, patting his back, “one that doesn’t involve implications and guesses.”
Slowly, he lifted his head. He looked a bit dead inside, and his jaw tensed. You felt as if you were watching him force himself to eat a monster out of a sheer need to please. It endeared him to you, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the guy. The things Kabru put himself through simply to maintain good graces were endless and difficult. 
“I…” he paused, blinking a few times before he finally looked at you, “Would that work?”
Probably. “Think of it like therapy,” you said as you led him back to the bench and sat down beside him. “Try to be blunt with me. Practice.”
“Practice,” he echoed under his breath.
“Come on.”
His eyes narrowed, “Fine. Where do I start? Give me a prompt.”
Good question. You gave it a moment of thought, “Alright, try asking me on a date.”
“I just did a few minutes ago.”
“No, be blunt about it.”
A heavy pause. Kabru slumped forward a little, an intense look in his eyes. “Alright. Fine. Will you go on a date with me?”
“...Why?”
“Why?” Fear and horror and exasperation filled his eyes, "Shouldn't you already know?"
“I don't. So, why?”
“Because—” just like Rin did earlier, Kabru choked on his words. His hands went up and he made meaningless gestures with them as if that would assist in the process of being blunt. “Because I would like that?”
“Good job!” You patted him on the shoulder. “Now, bluntly tell me how you feel about me.”
The horror on his face, you wanted a picture of it so you would always have something to laugh at. “Really?”
“Really,” you sang. 
“Fine. I—” another meaningless gesture as he cleared his throat, brows furrowing, “You really want me to be blunt?”
“Yeah. Tell me the truth, the whole truth, don’t dance around it.”
“Okay,” Kabru snorted, “Okay… I want to kiss you, I want to hold you, I want your attention, I want to pin you down on the couch and—”
“That’s enough,” you put up a hand— your cheeks were burning— and smiled, “we’re in a public place. But I get the point, thank you.”
Kabru sighed in relief. He closed his eyes and fell forward, burying his face in your shoulder. You couldn’t help but laugh and pat his back. 
There was a lot of work to do. He still had another layer of walls to break through, but he’d learn how to defeat and conquer. He’d learn how to stop building mazes for you. And it would be good for him, if it didn’t drive him insane first. 
You buried your nose into his hair. He groaned, slack in your arms. Part of you wanted to run, retreat. The other part of you rejoiced in the moment. You weren’t sure which one to listen to, but you and Kabru would figure it out with time. 
You and Kabru would figure a lot of things out together from now on. 
369 notes · View notes