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#I have no idea how I lived like that it would drive me fucking insane as an adult
seilon · 20 days
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genuinely it is so depressing to spend money drinking just to end up doing nothing interesting and just sitting around
#i need friends who like. doing things.#i need more friends in general but i mean yeah.#would love to have an actual college experience one day. I’ve been in college 4 years or so and I’ve never been to a party and I’ve never#made lasting/close friendships. since pre-covid I haven’t really made friends at all#all my friends (all four of them) are from high school#it’s really fucking pathetic actually how incapable I am of making friends or having a life#and it just feels like a huge fucking waste of time and a waste of a college environment#part of me wishes I would rent at a place full of mostly other students and get a roommate I don’t know (as much as that’s a bad idea if#it’s anything like last time) just so I can be around people and be forced to meet people#also so I can avoid getting lowkey fucked over because my friends I’m supposed to be renting with eventually don’t want to pay a#significant amount of rent and I’d end up paying way more than them just because they supposedly can’t afford it (we all have about the same#income.)#gehsdhdhdhshhd#they also want to rent a place with four of us total and I just. really don’t want to live with that many people. like I think it would#drive me fucking insane. I need control over my surroundings and that leaves me with no control and I don’t like it#and a million other reasons I don’t like the idea#it was originally just supposed to be me and one friend. so. this was not the plan#hahsgshhshh anyway kill me#I’m in that post-drinking state where all pleasant affects of the alcohol have long since worn off and I’m just sort of left a hollow shell#depressed and disappointed.#and I have to go to work this afternoon woohoo awesome so cool#kibumblabs
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be-good-to-bugs · 10 days
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ughhh i hate packing and i hate knowing i cant bring most of my stuff with me
#the bin#and i especially hate not even knowing at all what i can bring bc i have no fucking clue how im even getting there :/#if i have to fly then i wont even be able to bring my art with me :( but i dont even know if flying is an option cause i have to be gone by#friday which is in 2 days so. how am i supposed to get a flight then? ugh. seems like if he cant drive on friday then ill be stiluck here#till he can drive. i hope not. i REALLY dont wanna spend my birthday is some strangers house who i dont know#but i have nowhere else to go. wish i knew what was happening :/ i dont even know if me staying there is an option bc they live with like 2#or 3 other people so. idk. ughhh#im so stressed. im trying to just pack everything up but ive been panicing nonstop since monday#idk what to do. even if i CAN stay what about my cats? they cant go there afaik. not even for a little bit. my snakes coukd for a time but#not the cats. im fairly sure thatbonw of the roommates has a cat allergy. i might be remembering wrong. idk.#not like flying is even really an option so. fucking. i dont know.#im hoping things can just go as they were planning but idk. i have no idea. im so stressed tho. ugh#well. at least i learned something helpful. seems like uber will work in the area my family is in bc they live close to my aunts house#i know uber works from there so its very helpful to know. yay. getting a job will be way easier that way.#if not for rewatching hbombeeguy and folding ideas videos i would have already gone insane trying to pack while panicing#whatever. if they can drive me it seems like ill be able to bring more or my stuff tho bc my mom is just gonna get a tank 4 lady there#its always good to have a spare tank anyway. and i can move baby into a bigger one which she has been needing anyway. thats nice.#but it doesnt matter if they cant even drive me. hhhh. whatever. i should go back to packing. or eat something. be productive#i only have a little time left so. hhh.
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baby-yongbok · 3 months
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Don't Go Insane
Neighbor!Bang Chan x afab!Reader
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✧Genre - Smut ✧Warnings: Unprotected piv (Wrap it up ya'll) ✧ Masterlist ✧
A/N: I have never ever written a fic in this format but it was the only was for my brain to process the idea😭This is a product of those fucking SINFUL photos that Chan took for Nylon Japan. I'm sorry if it sucks, I'm trying to get back into writing again so I might suck for a bit, sorry! Hope you enjoy! (not proofread)
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You weren't expecting to actually like your new neighbor since your previous one was such a dick but when you meet Chan he's more than kind to you. 
He always greets you in the hallway, helping you bring your bags up to your place when you get home from shopping and checks in on you when he hasn't seen you for a couple of days
You find yourself going out around the same time that he would usually get home from his morning workout just so you can talk to him. He's so sweet and charming and hot. Oh so hot. 
He brings you food when he's made too much dinner to fit in his fridge which is code for he wanted an excuse to talk to you and gave you 50% of his meal just to see your face. 
You invite him in to eat the first time that he brings you food and it quickly turns into spending Sunday nights eating together and laughing at his stories. It's your favorite day of the week now. 
You drop by his place to ask if he needs anything from the store every time that you go now. He's memorized the pattern of your knock and jumps to his feet every time he hears it. 
You're in line at the store one day when a magazine catches your eye. Is that…Chan!? You grab it, looking through with wide eyes before buying it and nearly forgetting about the rest of your items. 
You don't tell him that you saw it. He never said what he did for work and yeah he's hot - Oh so hot - but you never thought that this would be his occupation and you defiantly didn't think that this is how you'd find out.
You flip through the magazine all night. Staring at his beautiful chocolate gaze and his perfectly blushed lips. How is he even real?
You may have also stared at his shirtless pics for an hour too long. No one has to know that though.
He brings over a new recipe that he tried this Sunday. Setting up your usual spot on the living room floor when his eyes land on a familiar photo on your side table. It's him. You bought his magazine? He tries to act normal about it but his red ears and blushed cheeks give him away. 
You catch on when he glances at it for a second time and you internally body slam yourself for forgetting to put it away. You both eat quietly, blushing and trying to find the right thing to say next. 
“I'm sorry about that.” You speak first and he glances up quickly, straightening himself up with a shy smile. “It's fine, I'm just embarrassed I guess.” He's shy about being hot?? Why does that make him hotter?
“Are you always the shy type?” Your question was genuine but your tone was suggestive, almost teasing. It creates a shift in his demeanor that makes you shiver. “Not always, no.”
You don't know how it happened. It's all a blur. One second he was talking to you, confident and sweet. He was telling you about the shoot for the magazine when he got to the topic of the shirtless photos. The air around you thickened and the words that started it all slid off your tongue.
“You look so good it could drive me insane.” You chuckled but his eyes darkened in response. 
“Do you want me to?” His eyes are on yours, his gaze is heavy and intense. “What?” You drop your fork, swallowing hard. “Make you go insane?”
That's how you ended up with his lips on yours. He swallowed each and every strangled moan and replaced it with one of his own. His hands explored your body, fast yet cautious. A gentleman.
He pulls you into his lap, one of his large palms gripping your ass over your leggings and the other cupping your cheek to keep you still for him. He pulls you close, chest to chest. He's been waiting to feel you since the moment he first saw you. He feels like he's dreaming and he prays that he never wakes up. 
His breathing picks up when you plant sloppy kisses along his jawline. Mind numbing groans and hisses falling from his lips. “You're gonna make me go insane, fuck.”
His lips feel like heaven against your skin. Soft and all-consuming. He leaves marks along your collar bones, sucking and flicking his tongue over the delicate skin. Your head is spinning as you take him in. This beautiful man that you've been dreaming of for months finally has his hands on you. 
You grind against him, his fingers digging into your hips as he presses up into you. The way that he looks up at you with his lip caught between his teeth is intoxicating. “You're so fucking beautiful.” He smiles at your compliment, blinking a blush away and trying to keep his composure. “Took the words right outta my mouth.”
You pull back, sitting on the shaggy rug and frantically undressing. You're desperate, antsy, absolutely insatiable and Chan isn't too far behind but you could never tell by how composed he looks. How does he have that much self control?
He moves to sit on the couch and watches you as you strip. Taking in every beautiful inch of your body while he makes himself comfortable. You look up at him as he sits, man spreading at the edge of your couch and giving you the perfect view of his aching cock straining against his jeans. 
Fucking sinful
"Crawl to me, baby. Come here." He beckons you with two fingers that you're dying to be acquainted with. The smile on his face while you follow his order is enough to make you explode already.
He leans forward, cupping your face and kissing you with such soft hunger. So much passion and desire. A promise, like his kiss is asking you to be his. You palm him softly over his jeans earning a soft moan from him. "You want it?” He leans back, resting against the back of your sofa, giving you full access to his zipper and button. “Go ahead, take it, princess."
His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he watches you free his cock and his eyes roll back when you fist it confidently. Pumping him at a deliciously slow place. You want to drag this out. You don't ever want this to end. 
He puts his hand over yours once he gets fed up with your teasing. He loves how your hand feels around him but he needs more of you. He taps his leaking cock against your lips and you allow your spit to dribble down his shaft. "Stick that tongue out. There we go, baby. That's my girl. Look at that.”
He holds your hair back as you slide his length into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him. His fingers massage your scalp softly making you hum around him. He's a gentleman, a filthy one. 
He couldn’t wait to switch places with you, falling to his knees so fluidly that you couldn’t help but to groan at the sight of him. His gaze never left yours. His eyes were constantly asking for permission to continue and you eagerly granted it every time.
He ate your pussy like a fucking starved man. Lick and sucking the expanse of your cunt like he’d never see you again. Your moans encouraged him as he lapped at you, he wanted - no, needed - you to cum on his tongue. It’s all that he’s been dreaming of for the last month. 
He made you cum twice and had to hold back the urge to keep going. He’s definitely found his new favorite thing.
Nevermind, kissing you is his favorite thing. The way that you sigh into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue and biting his bottom lip drives him wild. 
You’re seeing stars as soon as he slips into you. His strong arms on either side of your head as he hovers, kissing you softly as you adjust to him. “Fuck, you’re a dream come true, ya know that? I’ve dreamt of this, princess.” You can hardly reply once he fills you to the hilt but you try to anyway, moaning out as your vision blurs. “Wanted you so bad, Channie.”
That was enough to break him. He snapped his hips into you, giving you everything that you ever wanted, ever needed, from him. He fucks you deep, speeding up gradually just to hear you moan his name a little louder. He wants to be gentle with you but with a cunt that feels this amazing he can’t help but want to make you fall apart underneath him.
You always imagined being on top when you finally got to be with Chan but it looks like that’ll have to be another day. The way that his cock is splitting you open makes you feel like you might have to call out of work tomorrow. 
“Look at me, babygirl. You liked seeing my pictures, huh? Did you touch this pretty cunt while looking at them?” You nod your head with such urgency that you’re positive that you look absolutely pathetic but Chan thinks that it’s cute, he’s in love with how fucked out you look drooling under him. “All you had to do was ask for the real thing.” He rolls his hips into you and your eyes roll back right after. 
He holds both of your hands as he slows down a bit, he wants to make love to you. Wants to treat you like the precious gem that he knows that you are but your cunt keeps fucking squeezing around him. He curses under his breath as he tries to compose himself but it’s no use. He watches as he disappears inside of you, groaning when he sees just how perfectly your pussy is taking him. “You’re gonna make me cum, baby. You’re too much. Too good.” 
Much to his surprise you cave before he does, chanting his name like a prayer while he rocks into you at the perfect angle. You feel dizzy as you unravel under him, nails digging into his strong arms and your legs wrapping around his waist in a desperate attempt to feel grounded. 
The way that you look cumming on his cock drives him over the edge. He picks up the pace, fucking you through your orgasm while he’s chasing his. The overstimulation draws out your climax causing a new wave of pleasure to hit you harder than the last. “Yeah yeah yeah, oh fuck such a pretty girl cumming on my cock like that, that's it baby.” He doesn’t even know what he’s saying but he doesn’t care he’s so close so so so close.
You forced your eyes open when he pulled out, you needed to watch him stroke himself over the edge and cover your stomach in his cum. You need to take in the way his eyes squeeze shut and his brows furrow while he moans for you. “Oh fuck fuck fuck.”
The giggles that you share after may be Chan’s new favorite part. He cleaned you up and wrapped his arms around you. Pressing kisses to your hair as you both talk about what just happened with smiles on your faces 
“This is a bit backwards but uh, can I take you out? Maybe next weekend?” The butterflies in your stomach go crazy as you blush into his chest, nodding happily and answering with a muffled ‘yes’ that makes Chan chuckle. “Maybe afterward I can fuck the sense back into ya, since I drove you insane tonight.”
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junkissed · 6 months
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love thy neighbor
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member — fwb! neighbor!joshua x f reader genre — smut, light angst, college au, idiots to lovers, happy ending word count — 5.1k synopsis — there's perks to having your fwb live next door to you, but there's also downsides. like the fact that it's really hard to hide that you're in love with him. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, one mention of periods, masturbation (both reader & joshua), the smut is REALLY quick, premature ejaculation sort of, a little bit of body worship, nicknames (baby, good girl), not really described but implied creampie, they are idiots and they are in love and it's gross and sweet notes — tysm to @wongyuseokie & @onlymingyus for help choosing the banner <3 and thanks to @petrichor-han for this idea !! fun fact this was originally going to be for skz han but i figured it would also make a great shua fic so i chose him instead. fun fact #2 i am addicted to giving shua's fics religious titles even when there's no mention of religion in the fic at all lmao. it gives me a giggle like how could i not when it fits so well?? also this is one of my few attempts at angst so if you liked this please reblog or send and ask and lmk how you liked it! hope you enjoy!!
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joshua should be asleep right now. 
really, he should. it’s 11pm on a sunday night and he’s got his chemistry lab at 8am tomorrow, and he’s still got a couple of assignments that he really needs to catch up on before the final next week. 
but then there's that bump against the wall that he’s grown so accustomed to, and his eyes fly open.
maybe becoming fuck buddies with your next-door neighbor isn't the smartest idea he's ever had, because this is the fourth time this week he's had to hear your moans as he tries to fall asleep.
the walls are thin, but he's certain that you must not realize just how thin they are, because he can hear every sound you make as clear as day. every whimper, every buzz of your vibrator, even every moan of his name, barely muffled by the wall separating his room from yours. especially every moan of his name. and it’s been driving him insane.
really, it’s his own fault for trying to be a polite neighbor. he almost wishes that he hadn’t run into you when you’d moved into the apartment next door at the beginning of the semester, because then he probably wouldn’t have recognized you at that party during homecoming weekend and got to talking with you. 
and because of that he probably wouldn’t have taken you home from said party and given you the best dicking down of your life (your words, not his), and then after that you probably wouldn’t have decided that you wanted to keep fucking him and agreed to become friends with benefits.
except he doesn’t actually wish that at all.
having your situationship live right next door is pretty convenient, after all. you’ll shoot him an “omw” text and be waiting at his front door seconds later. he forgot to bring condoms? it’ll just take a sec to run home and grab some. when you accidentally leave your panties in his apartment, he can drop them off the same day and then forget about it (he definitely won’t). 
he could probably even just bang on his side of the wall and you’d know to come over, but to him that’s a little too far, too impolite. he at least has the decency to send a text first.
a part of him wonders if that’s why you’re so noisy at night, if you’re doing it on purpose and knowing he’ll hear it, secretly hoping for him to come knocking at your door. but he doesn’t want to assume, doesn’t want to show up without asking and realize he’s been completely wrong this whole time and make himself look like a fool.
so he settles for earplugs instead. because there’s no way he can sit there and listen to the sounds you make and not start thinking about all the times he’s been in your bed with you just inches away. and by the time he’s cum all over his fist and he’s finally worn himself out enough to fall asleep, it’s 4am and he has class in the morning and he’s wasted an entire night yet again.
he’s been inside your apartment dozens of times, enough to know the layout by heart. enough to know that your bedroom sits directly next to his, enough to know that your bed is pushed against that very thin wall the same way his is and that your nightstand with the drawer full of toys is right next to the bed.
oh, he’s gotten to know more than just your apartment over the course of the semester. he knows which positions are your favorite (you’ve never told him outright, but you always cum harder when he fucks you in missionary). he knows the names you like to be called and the ones you like to call him. he can even tell which vibrator you’re using right now (the red one doesn’t buzz as loud, so you only use it when your favorite purple one is dead. tonight you’re using the purple one.)
but he’s also gotten to know the way you smile when you see a cat video, the way your forehead wrinkles when you talk about your calculus professor, and the way you like your pancakes in the morning (though he’s never been able to make them for you himself, he swears one day he will. one slice of butter, a ton of syrup, and a handful of cut up strawberries.)
so maybe that’s what makes these nights so unbearable. he can keep lying to himself that it doesn’t bother him, that it wouldn’t bother him as much as it does if he just… didn’t like you. 
but, unfortunately, he does like you. and he’s stuck with this problem until he finds a way to fix it, but just like in the lab analyses he has to write every week, he’s got no ideas. so he’ll have to settle for fucking his hand and biting his pillow so you don’t get suspicious of the noises he’s making, and hope that his silly little crush goes away on its own. 
after all, he isn’t anything to you. albeit a sexual one, he’s still just a friend. and he’s certain that’s all you want.
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god, you wish that joshua could see you right now. you’re certain he’d love it.
earlier tonight you’d had to physically force yourself to turn your phone off so that you wouldn’t be tempted to text him to come over. you’d already texted him on monday night and thursday afternoon, and you’d knocked on his door on saturday at practically the crack of dawn because you’d woken up thinking about him.
were you embarrassed about it? absolutely, but that wasn’t enough to stop you. okay, maybe sometimes it was, because the girl who lived across the hall had caught you (on multiple occasions) sneaking out of joshua’s apartment twice in one day and you refused to meet him again for nearly a week after that.
but joshua didn’t seem one bit embarrassed by your arrangement. he always gave you a friendly smile and offered to walk you to your door afterwards, which you always declined, and he always made sure to say he looked forward to seeing you again. you even saw him wave at the nosy neighbor girl when he’d left your apartment once (which you only remembered because you’d spent the rest of the night in tears about it, but not that you were jealous about it or anything).
you felt bad enough meeting up with him so often, but you felt even worse that you didn’t even have a label to show for it. you knew it was probably exactly what he’d wanted out of this, just somebody to call for a quick fuck, but it made you mad. it was why you got so angry about the girl across the hall; because you knew everybody loved joshua, so of course he couldn’t love only you. 
he was hot and he was in a frat and he probably had a hundred girls he could call if he wanted to. with how often you text him to fuck, plus the other people he’s probably seeing? he’s gotta be exhausted.
which is why most nights you opt for touching yourself instead. in the months since you first met joshua, your vibrators have been going through batteries a lot faster than usual, a fact you’re not exactly proud of but will own up to nonetheless.
it’s not your fault that the image of him leaning over you, his thin gold chain dangling in your face as he fucks you is burned into your head practically 24 hours of the day. or the fact that his voice plays on repeat in your brain, specifically that one time he called you “baby” and you came so hard you nearly passed out. 
so really, it’s actually his fault that he’s constantly on your mind. his fault for being sexy… or your fault for falling for him?
either way, you find yourself yet again with your pussy stuffed full of your own fingers and your favorite purple vibrator on your clit (you remembered to charge it last night, after you came to the thought of joshua fucking you on your kitchen counter), wishing he could be there to see it.
you close your eyes and picture him in front of you, holding the vibrator against your clit as he grins down at you. such a good girl, he’d say, brushing his thumb over your nipple with his free hand. you love this, don’t you?
“fuck, yes, joshua,” you reply, gasping as you push your fingers deeper inside. you arch off the bed a little, pushing your head back against your pillow. you’ve learned that he loves it when you call him by his full name instead of “shua” or “josh”; you don’t know why, but it always seems to drive him crazy, and you never fail to leave his apartment sore in all the best places afterwards.
you spread your legs a little wider and moan, rolling your cheek to the side as you imagine him fucking you with his fingers instead of your own. i can tell you’re getting close, imaginary joshua says with a smirk, his hand cupped against your pussy as he thrusts his fingers in and out at a bruising pace.
“mhm,” you whimper, curling your fingers and trying to convince yourself that it feels as good as when he does it. “please, joshua—”
you turn your vibrator up to the highest setting, your hips canting into the air as you squeeze your eyes tighter shut. you can feel the waves beginning to wash over you and you repeat his name like a plea, chanting it over and over until you can’t form words anymore.
cum for me, baby, all over my fingers, he says, and your mouth falls open as you let go, your knee accidentally smacking against the wall as your legs shake with pleasure. you keep your vibrator held firmly against your clit until it sends you over the edge again, still riding the high of your first orgasm as you struggle to breathe through it. joshua loves to overstimulate you, until all you can do is weakly push at his hands and beg him to leave your exhausted cunt alone.
the post-orgasm clarity soon starts to hit and you’re left with the realization that you just got off from pretending your neighbor is just as in love with you as you are with him. absolutely pathetic. 
but your eyes are starting to droop and you’re quickly finding that you’re too tired to stay awake to think about how much of a loser you are, so you tuck your favorite vibrator back into its spot in your drawer and put your pajamas back on and tuck yourself into bed, trying not to wish joshua was there beside you instead of infinitely far away on the other side of the wall.
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when joshua wakes up the next morning, he half expects you to be waiting outside his door again.
of course anyone would be annoyed at being woken up by their neighbor before 7am, but then you’d sheepishly told him that you’d had the most insane wet dream about him and he’d been more than happy to let you come in and bounce yourself on his lap while he watched the early morning sunlight stream through his bedroom window onto your cheeks. 
pretty much the perfect morning, in his eyes, except for the fact that you hadn’t slept in his bed with him. you never sleep over and it’s obvious why, but maybe it’s for good reason: he won’t get so attached to you.
unfortunately, though, this morning you aren’t waiting for him, so he trudges to his kitchen to make himself one lonely cup of coffee and one lonely stack of frozen waffles and get ready for his day.
he’s started noticing patterns about when and why you text him, and he finds himself checking his phone all day. 
on mondays, because you have all your classes on those days and you’re already exhausted so why not get fucked within an inch of your life before you settle in for the night?
on thursdays, usually in the afternoons because both your schedules happen to line up where he’s just finished his work shift and you’re on your break between classes so it leaves the perfect amount of time for him to eat you out.
if you have a particularly hectic morning you’ll text him right away and ask him if he’d come over once you get home that night, and he’ll reply that he can’t wait with a big red heart emoji.
in fact, most of the times you want to see him is when you’re stressed or upset, which makes sense to him but at the same time makes him a little disappointed. he hopes that you’d want to see him on your happiest days, because any day he gets to see you is automatically his happiest day. but he supposes that’s where you’ve drawn the line, and he’ll have to be okay with that.
joshua’s restless through his chem lab this morning, and then his english lecture, and then his shift at work, not-so patiently awaiting you to ask him about his plans tonight.
but you don’t text him at all on monday, and you don’t text him on tuesday, either. he catches you going into your apartment at the same time he’s leaving on wednesday, and he waves as usual but you just give him a small nod and hurriedly close your door behind you. he’s almost positive you’ll text him on thursday, but your lunch hour comes and goes without a word.
he almost never texts you first, because you text him so often and most of the time he’s already thinking about you anyway. so when sunday rolls around again and he still hasn’t heard anything from you, he thinks maybe you’re waiting for him to say something first this time.
he knows you’ve been home, because he’s heard your friends coming and going. maybe you’ve just been busy with other things and didn’t mean to ghost him. sure, you get together pretty often, but that doesn’t mean it’ll happen every single week. plans change and that’s fine, and it is right before finals week after all. 
but even when you’re on your period and aren’t in the mood to see him, you usually send a text as a heads up, and he’s definitely not keeping track or anything but this week shouldn’t be one of them. he’s going through every possibility he can think of as to why you’ve seemingly disappeared, but he just can’t find a reason why.
but then he realizes something else; he’s stopped hearing you at night, too. and then he really starts to worry, because he remembers how upset you looked when he saw you in the hall and maybe something really awful happened to you and he’s been pouting in his room like a selfish idiot this whole time.
so he pulls up your contact, cursor blinking over the text box as he tries to figure out what to say.
hey, he decides on, and he’s surprised but happy when you read the message right away. 
he waits a moment, but you don’t respond, so he texts again. you can talk to me, you know? about other stuff. i’m your friend.
he shakes his head and deletes that last sentence before pressing send. you read it immediately again, but it’s a long and agonizing few minutes before you reply.
okay
he frowns, not knowing what to say back. did i do something and make you mad? you seem upset and i’m sorry.
it’s nothing. don’t worry
joshua wants to say, but i do worry, but he knows that might be too far and he’s still not even sure what’s wrong. 
so instead he stands up and walks out his front door, leaving his phone on his bed. he may be an idiot, but the least he can do is try to act like your friend.
you don’t answer when he knocks, so he calls your name. “i know you’re home, i can hear you through the wall.”
finally the lock clicks, and you open your door just a crack. “what do you mean, you can hear through the wall?”
he pauses. “i can hear you… walking around, and stuff. making noise. the walls are thin.” so you really didn’t know? oh god, now he feels like an asshole for listening, even if he was trying not to.
“oh. well.” you sigh and close your eyes, inhaling. “that’s embarrassing.”
“can we talk?” joshua asks, suddenly feeling exposed. he’s plenty comfortable in large groups of people, but when he’s around you he wants to hold you tight and keep you secret and safe, out of sight of any wandering eyes. standing out in the hallway where anyone could hear is not how he’d like this to go.
“sure,” you mumble, swinging your door open for him to come inside.
you close the door but don’t move from behind it, standing like you’re waiting for him to say something. so he does.
“listen. i know whatever this is, is messy,” he starts, gesturing between the two of you. “but you’re my friend, and i care about you and i want you to be happy.” he sighs. “so please tell me what’s wrong, because not texting you has been really weird, and if you want to end this then that’s fine and i’ll leave you alone, but don’t just ghost me. we’re still neighbors and i’m not a fan of awkward hallway conversations.”
you crack a smile for a second, but it quickly fades. “do you want to end this?”
“no, not really. but i don’t want you to feel like you have to keep doing this if you don’t like it.”
“i thought it was pretty obvious i did like it,” you say with an almost laugh. 
he stares at you quietly. “then what’s going on?”
“i want to keep doing this, but i just… i don’t think i can,” you say, avoiding his eyes. “at least not like this.”
“what do you mean, ‘like this’?”
“joshua, because i like you. and i feel awful because i know we’re not on the same page and it feels like i’m taking advantage of you because you probably have a dozen other women telling you the exact same thing and it’s probably exhausting and it’s not what you want!”
his face contorts in shock at your words. “well, first, that’s not at all true. and second of all, stop trying to guess what i want without just talking to me. what is it that you want?”
“you! i don’t know. i don’t know what i want anymore,” you say, covering your face with your hands. 
joshua’s not sure if he should hug you or not, but he really, really wants to. “is that all that’s been bothering you this week?” he asks softly.
“yeah,” you say, moving your hands but still avoiding his eyes. “it’s stupid. i know, and i’m sorry.”
he laughs, and you look up at him like he’s crazy. “you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he says. “i’m sorry. because for months i’ve been wishing we could change this but i never said anything because this is what i thought you wanted.”
you keep staring at him, but he can’t read the emotion on your face. “so… what is this, then?”
“i’ll be whatever you want me to be for you. your fuck buddy, or your friend, or your boyfriend, whatever.”
“you really don’t see other people?” you ask, still unsure.
now it’s joshua’s turn to look at you like you’re crazy. “no, why would i want to? i don’t care if you do, but with how often you text me it sounds like you don’t, either.”
“i just figured— nevermind,” you sigh.
“can i give you a hug?” he asks after a minute. “we’ve been sleeping together the whole semester, and i don’t think i’ve ever given you a real, proper hug.”
you smile, and seeing that instantly makes his day. “yes, please.”
his arms feel secure around you, and his chest is warm against your cheek. with a sigh you close your eyes, breathing in the smell of his cologne that you’ve been trying to push out of your brain for weeks.
you stand there for a while, neither of you making any moves to pull away. it's been a really, really long week without joshua and you didn’t realize how badly you missed him until this moment.
“so about the walls thing—”
“hm?” he mumbles.
“—you can really hear everything?”
he laughs. “oh, yeah. your bedroom is right next to mine. been having trouble sleeping for so long because i kept hearing you moan my name and it got me hard every time.”
your cheeks burn in embarrassment. “joshua, i’m so sorry! if i had known—”
he shakes his head, cutting you off. “you can make it up to me by telling me everything you were thinking about.”
“probably nothing you don't already know,” you grin shyly.
“probably, but i wanna hear you say it anyway.”
you lean away from him a little bit, releasing your arms from around him to rest against his chest. “i should've known this is why you wanted to come over,” you say, pretending to be mad, but you can already feel the tingling feeling building up in your stomach at the thought.
“it's not,” he replies smoothly, “but i did miss waking up to you knocking on my door.”
you pout. “that was only that one time!”
“doesn't mean it has to be the last.”
heat creeps up into your cheeks and you glance away from him, gaze trained on his shoulder. 
“you really wanna know what i was thinking about?” you ask, finally building up the courage to look back up at his face.
“of course i do.” his eyes are sparkling as he watches you, and you can't exactly identify the emotion but you know it makes your heart flutter.
“well,” you start, “it was different every time, but most of the time it started like this.” you trail your hands down his torso, pausing when they reach his hips. he stays silent, eyes fixed on your movements and a little smile on his face that you don't think he even realizes he's doing.
“and then…” you look down, a little surprised to notice the bulge in his pants already there. you place your hand over him gently and look up, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't stop you.
you clear your throat and start again. “and then, you'd sit on the couch and let me gag on your cock for a while.”
you start to push on his hips, backing him into your living room. he’s enjoying this way more than he should be, but then again, you basically just confessed your love to him so it’s kind of the best day of his life.
the back of his thighs hits the arm rest of your couch, but before you can move him any further his hands pull you flush against his body, his bulge pressing into your stomach. 
“how about we skip that part for another day?” he says, his voice low. “tell me what happens after.”
you try your best to hold back a moan, suddenly losing your ability to speak. you can practically feel his cock throbbing through his clothes and it makes it impossible to come up with a coherent sentence.
“don’t get shy on me now, baby,” he hums, hands still firmly gripping your hips, and if your brain hadn’t short-circuited already then it definitely has now. “been hearing you in your room for weeks, i know how loud you like to be.”
“that’s not fair,” you finally manage, still trying to collect your thoughts.
joshua leans forward to kiss your neck, gently at first but quickly growing harsher, and you’re sure he can feel your pulse jump every time his teeth graze your skin. 
“fuck, just like that,” you whimper, “exactly like that, shua—”
after a minute he hums and glances up at you through his lashes, clearly waiting for you to keep talking.
“we’d make out for a while, and then you—you’d fuck me on the floor,” you gasp out. joshua moans against your skin, and it’s only then that you realize your hands have found their way to his hair, tugging on it to urge him on.
your fingers loosen and he pulls away, the corners of his lips wet with saliva. “on the floor? you deserve better than that, baby,” he tsks. “can i take you to bed instead?”
“please,” you whine softly, suddenly feeling unbearably eager to fuck him. all week you’ve been using every last ounce of your energy to avoid thinking about joshua, but now that he’s here in front of you and way too willing to play into your fantasies, all the emotions you’ve been holding in are spilling out, and you don’t feel like containing them anymore.
you grab his hand and it’s like you can’t make it to your room fast enough, falling onto your bed and pulling him down on top of you. by then you’ve both forgotten the conversation you were having before because you’re too busy desperately pressing your lips against his, barely remembering to breathe as he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you and what were you even talking about again?
your brain is clouded when he finally pulls away with a gasp, kissing your cheek and your neck once more. his hands slip beneath your shirt and tug it over your head, making his way between your breasts and down your stomach and leaving more kisses as he goes. your skin burns with each touch, gentle lips and not-so-gentle hands covering every inch of you until you feel like your whole body is on fire.
he sits up just long enough to pull his own shirt off and now it’s your turn to touch, your hands instantly finding his chest as you trace your fingertips down his abs.
“how do you want me?” joshua groans, his hands joining yours at his hips to help him push his pants to the ground.
“fuck… missionary? just like this?” you say as you kick your pants and panties off in a rush, wrapping your legs around his waist.
his cock brushes against your stomach and you sigh out a moan, your hands moving up to grab at his biceps. he doesn’t say another word as he runs his tip through your folds, his attention fixated on your pussy and how you’re already dripping for him. for a second he forgets where he is and what he’s doing, so engrossed with the sight of you and how fucking glad he is that he didn’t lose you because you’re both idiots that assume too much about what the other wants instead of communicating your feelings like normal adults.
you let out a little noise and his eyes flick back up to your face, his gaze immediately softening at the blissful expression on your face. to think, he could’ve been seeing you like this the whole time if he had the balls to admit how he felt sooner. but there’s plenty of time for him to pout about it later because right now you need him, and he needs you, too, so why waste time thinking about that when he can think about how good you look taking his cock?
he leans down because he can’t resist kissing your beautiful face one more time, and finally he pushes into you, letting out a loud whine at the same time you moan his name. the sound of your voices joined together goes straight to his dick as he pulls almost all the way out, thrusting back into you with renewed energy.
“baby— fuck,” he groans, his grip on your body tightening as his thrusts begin to grow faster and rougher. “so good to me.”
you clench hard around him at the nickname, clinging onto him as you squeeze your eyes shut.
and then without warning everything hits you all at once, and you go boneless in his arms as he whimpers and groans and gasps and holds you tight and he probably told you he loves you about a million times as he was cumming too but you can’t hear anything as you lay exhausted on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with your ears ringing.
even with his shaking hands you can still feel the gentleness in joshua’s touch as you start to come back down, the warmth of his breath on your cheek as his fingers lightly brush your hair out of your face, feeling him twitch inside you before he slowly pulls out. 
with his own orgasm following just barely after yours that was probably some kind of record for the fastest round ever, but you don’t even have the strength to care. so what if he usually fucks you for hours on end? all you care about is the fact that he’s tracing your collarbones with a fucked-out little smile on his face and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life.
with a soft grunt he stands up, and you call out his name with all the energy you have left.
“joshua?”
“mhm?”
“can you stay?” you ask, and somehow you both know you’re talking about more than just for the next few minutes.
he smiles. “wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.” and when he comes back with a towel and a wet wipe and apologizes for how fast it all was and promises to give you more whenever you want because he’s officially yours now, you know he’s telling the truth.
even when he’s doing nothing at all, joshua never fails to make your head spin. 
laying in the dark with you, his fingers absentmindedly twirling your hair as you snuggle into his chest, you can’t even begin to find the words to explain how good it feels knowing he loves you and you love him back. 
but it doesn’t seem like he needs words right now. all he needs is you.
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m0nsterqzzz · 2 months
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Something Stupid
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pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader
summary: and then she goes and spoils it all by saying something stupid like...."I love you."
content: absolute teeth rotting fluff. pining for each other but wandas is much more intense? tiniest bit of blackhill if you squint.
a/n: had this idea for a while, and I actually kinda like it??? idk. first time for everything. reader is referred to as "sweets" like twice just because I love the nickname. it's what my boyfriend calls me. anyway. love yall!!
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Wanda Maximoff loves you.
She’s known that for years.
She’s known it since she first became an avenger and felt a strange urge to gain your forgiveness over everyone else's after what her and her late-brother Pietro did during the battle against Ultron.
She knew it when you became her best friend, teaching her how to control her magic and really just how to enjoy life.
She knew it when she had to watch as you got ready for dates with people that would never live up to your standards. Not she thought she would live up to your standards- no, she knew she couldn't- but she did know she treat you better then any of those no good pigs who are just looking for a fuck buddy ever good. The witch wouldn’t go up against your suitors though, just standing on the sidelines as her heart slowly breaks faster and faster the more you don’t see her in the same light you do them.
Little she did she know, she was the only one you truly wanted.
So finally, Wanda worked up the courage to ask you out so she no longer had to cry into her pillow while you were out sucking face with someone else.
Surprisingly, you agreed easily. The only thing you had to say was that she had to promise it wouldn’t change anything between you guys for the worse. If it didn’t work, you guys couldn’t become like Natasha and Maria. (those girls can’t be in the same room as each other for more than 2 seconds without making a backhanded comment about their four week long situationship)
The Maximoff girl agreed, eagerly setting up a dinner date.
It had quickly gone wrong.
The reservation was somehow not in the book despite the fact that Wanda called the fancy dinner place with insane prices about six times in the hour-long drive there. So you told her it was fine, that you’d be happy with some food from the delicious Thai place down the road as long as you were with her. But they were out of your favorite and Wanda ate so much that she felt ready to barf as you guys walked out of the restaurant- that was before she actually did barf in the parking lot. 
Finally, you guys headed to a bar near the Avengers tower for a quick nightcap, but that quickly turned into you both downing two drinks each before stumbling onto the dance floor.
A sweet looking old man who’s been reading a comic book in the corner sees you two and decides to put his own change in the jukebox and press play on a slow, but peaceful song. He sends you guys a smile, winking Wanda's way before he continues to read about some cool looking superheroes.
Wanda’s hands fall to your waist, gently gripping them as you both sway. Your head falls to lay on her shoulder, arms wrapped around the back of her neck as the music fills your ears. Her breath is on the back of your neck, warm, but it doesn’t even begin to compare to the feeling of her lips as she places a gentle kiss in that same spot. 
Then she goes and spoils it all by saying something stupid like, “I love you, sweets.”
You roll your eyes, thinking back to how many times people have told you that during first dates just to get in your pants. Though you will admit that when you hear Wanda say it, it brings a small, warm, fluttering feeling to your chest, and you manage to let out a small giggle before you say, “No you don't. You don’t love me Wanda. You like me. There’s a difference.”
She fights the urge to tell you that she knows there is a difference between love and like. She knows that because she’s felt both those ways towards you. Why can’t you just understand that so she doesn’t have to find a way to put it into words?
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After a few days of her saying the same thing and you never believing her, the witch realizes she has to put it in words. Nothing else is capable of explaining how she feels about you. How she’s felt for so long.
So she recruits Natasha and Clint for help, and they spend the day working on some speeches. By 2pm, she has this;
“Are you from Tennessee? Cuz you’re the only ten-I-see.” - A line from Natasha which she used on Maria who was passing by at that moment just to prove to Wanda it works. (Natasha left and was found leaving the agents room an hour later. Apparently that’s back on)
“I love you.” - Clint Barton, the stupidest man on earth. There is a reason people call him bird brain. They were there because the three words are not enough to describe what she feels towards you. Did he even read what was on the brunch invitation? It clearly stated; “fixing Wanda's love life; no I love you’s, no magic town in which she controls so she can make Sweets fall in love with her against their will.”
“Hey, do you have wifi? Cuz I’m really feeling a connection.” - Natasha. She once again used it on Maria and was gone for another two hours. Can someone please address this?
“Start listing facts about the baby turtles you saved. Always gets the ladies.” - from Tony, who was walking by the living room and decided now was the best time to interrupt. He has never once gotten close enough to endangered animals to be able to ‘save’ them, but we can pretend if he wants too.
“Are you a beaver? Cuz dam.” - Natasha. (someone needs to restrain Maria from jumping the redheads bones. She is literally needed at this meeting.)
So, as we can see, no one is any help. 
She decides after that to just go with her gut, and her gut is telling her that you’ll know when the time is right, and hopefully will send her a sign.
Maybe the sign is sooner rather than later.
The witch spends about an hour in her bedroom in front of her mirror, trying on every outfit from sweats and a t-shirt to the 10,000 dollar dress Tony bought her for her birthday. Which clothes would draw your attention to her? She thinks about that alot, which is why she wears different outfits everyday simply in hopes of you sending her a small compliment. She always spends countless amounts of time planning the perfect outfit just to hear you say, “You look pretty Wans.”
Why is this happening to her?
It’s when she sets up a cute little picnic under the stars with all your favorite foods and snacks and a makeshift tv screen with a projector to watch your favorite film do you realize that you are deeply and utterly in love with Wanda Maximoff.
She’s sweet, and pretty. She can always make you laugh when you truly think you no longer can.
And besides all that, she’s your best friend. The one that will stick with you through thick and thin simply because she wants to be beside you.
You can’t help but feel your cheeks beginning to heat up every single time she even glances in your direction, let alone actually speak to you. You can feel your stomach flutter with a mix of excitement and nerves as she just… exists.
You don’t tell her that though, afraid of getting your feelings hurt.
You just sit down on the nice thick blanket with her, grabbing some grapes to give a few to her and a few to herself as she presses play on the movie. It’s silent other than the sound of the movie, but she can hear your thoughts louder than any film. It’s not like she’s trying to read your mind. The witch vowed to herself to never use her magic on you unless it was necessary or life saving. That includes mind reading. Your thoughts are too loud though, and even with the amount of control she has over her powers, they still fill her head as she tries to focus on the movie.
“I love her.”
“She says she loves you.”
“She doesn’t mean it.”
“Yes she does.”
“No she doesn’t.”
“It doesn’t matter. I love her.”
Your internal battle on if she truly does love you or not breaks her heart into a million pieces, though she doesn’t want to call you out on it and make you feel uncomfortable. So you guys continue silently watching the movie. She doesn’t mention your loud thoughts, and you don’t mention that you can feel her eyes burning into the side of your face as she stares.
When the movie is over and the projector turns off, you guys sit in the darkness of the night. There are stars dressing the night sky, so you silently look at them as Wanda turns on her side so she can gently pull you closer to her. 
The moment is perfect; looking up at the stars in each other's warm embrace, your back pressed against her front and she moves around until she snuggles her head into the crook of your neck, so close to you that your perfume fills her senses and puts her into a peaceful bliss. Your truly happy as is she, and this time, as she says the tree words, you find yourself believing her;
“I love you.”
She doesn’t regret it or cringe out of embarrassment when she says it like she did last time. The witch just lets the words hang in the air. If you choose to say them back, you do. If not, at least you'll understand how much she truly means it.
“I love you.” You whisper back with new found confidence, and her chest fills with warmth and pure happiness. You finally believe her. Her words sounded so sincere and simple, not like the drunk words she said a few days ago. It’s the only reason you feel okay telling her the truth. You love Wanda Maximoff.
“I love you.” She mumbles, leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek.
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
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2-dsimp · 3 months
Text
/—-//——/————\——\—
Praise
/—-//——/————————
(Fem reader)
🔞MDNI🔞
—-/—-//——/——————
Cw: deepthroating, creampie, praise kink, slight humiliation, oral m! Receiving, mention of overstimulation.
/—-//——/————\——\—
The Givers
“Fuck…Fuck me, Princess you’re blowing my brains out with how your soft lips keep sucking the ever living fuck outta my cock. Yeah, just like that keep going, you’re doing such a fantastic job fer me. Awe are you thirsty? Don’t worry doll I’m about to give you some jizz milk in just a second”
He groaned.
Feeling the heat of your slick saliva encompassing his foreskin while your tongue mapped out his shaft. Trailing your tongue flat alongside the prominent veins that pulsated underneath your attention. Which caused his heavy balls that were noisily slapping the base of your chin to tighten up ready to burst at any moment. A feral lopsided grin was present on his lips as he tugged on your hair, stuffing his fat dick meanly down your throat before letting out a loud audible growl. His shaft throbbing meanwhile he deposited his salty man milk, coating your esophagus in a creamy white hue.
/—-//——/————\——\—
The Overindulgent
“Please keep squeezing my cock with your sweet pussy baby! Uhn so delicious, feels sho wonderful I can’t stop… I can’t stop my hips. Don’t look at me like that, you know I can’t help it. It’s all your fault for being so tempting sweetheart! Haa the way your slick heat keeps suckling at my tip is driving me insane~”
He slurred.
Tears pricked his glistened eyes as he outwardly blamed you for how pent up he was. Sawing his long slender shaft in between your puffy pussy lips marinating it with your juices and left over cum he had spurted prematurely. Watching the way your gushy cunt suckled at his leaking blunted tip whenever he’d “accidentally” slip his cockhead inside. In a matter of seconds he became boneless at the sensitivity. And he whimpered bucking his hips while spraying bucket loads of his baby batter all over your simpering walls.
/—-//——/————\——\—
The Teasers
“Mhm you look so beautiful covered in my seed darling~ Hmm? What was that? You said you want to be full of my dick? Well don’t worry sweetness, keep being a good girl for me and I’ll fuck into your precious twat until all you can feel the phantom shape of my cock inside your tight walls. My pretty girl would love that wouldn’t she?”
He hummed.
Methodically torturing you, his eyes filled with sadistic mirth as he pinched and toyed with your nipples forcing you to arch your back. While he began rubbing against his half massed dick between the crease of your asscheeks smearing his precum against your puckered anus and your dripping pussy. He relished in having you under his control, at you begging for him to give you exactly what you needed while he humped your sweet ass. He momentarily adjusted his hips so that his thick shaft could slide in nicely between your moist quivering thighs. Aiding him in taunting you with the idea of him plunging his cock inside your spasming cunt. While he snickered cruelly into your ear as he kept purposefully knocking his fat tip against your pearl with each controlled thrust.
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leighsartworks216 · 8 months
Text
I Want Nothing More
Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Y'all that leg drives me nuts. Got stuck for at least five minutes just watching gifs of it. Here, go just as insane as me
This fic isn't explicit but there is mature content so have fun
Warnings: making out, grinding, swearing, references to voyeurism
Word Count: 682
Main Masterlist
Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist
AO3
Tag List Form
Astarion pushes you to lay back in the dirt. Just beneath the surface lay old bones and hungry maggots, and an empty coffin. The thrill of leaving his old self behind, down there, while the new man he became thrived above, free. Free to live unshackled. Free to find peace with himself. Free to love, for once in his gods-forsaken life.
He smiled down at you, a lightness in his chest he hasn't felt in much too long. He crawls over you, eyes never straying from yours. And you so easily accept him, wrapping an arm around him and tangling your fingers in his hair. It's addicting. His eyes fall shut as he finally meets your lips.
It's a kiss unlike any other you've shared before. It was not practiced. It was not hot and heavy. It was soft, almost reverent. He sighed quietly into it, taking his time experiencing you. How you followed the pace he set. How you didn't tug him closer without him leaning in first. You tasted like the best wine humanity could ever - and would ever - create.
He positioned himself fully above you, laying you completely back against the ground. He pressed his knee forward, hooking your leg over his hip. You sighed so sweetly when he did, tugging lightly at his hair as he pressed his pelvis to yours. There were far too many clothes between you, but he was lost in everything else. Sex could wait a moment longer - he just wanted this.
His tongue glided along your lip, asking for more. And you gave it to him in a heartbeat. You always did that; always gave so much of yourself to others, even when you owed them nothing. When he first met you, it was perfect, because it meant manipulating you would be even easier. But then, he worried. He couldn't tell, then, where or when the worry arose - it just did. He'd feared you'd be taken advantage of by every miscreant with a vaguely tragic backstory - ironic, considering his intentions at the time. And now, even after everything, you still gave up your everything. For him.
You slid your hand to his lower back, right near his hip. A quiet sign to show you wanted this for as long as he did. His wordless worship was over. He wanted this. He wanted to at least try, if nothing else. A life anew, where he no longer seduced people to the terrible fate Cazador planned for them. A life anew where Cazador could no longer harm him ever again.
He pressed further into you until you were groaning. Your leg over his wrapped around his hip, and you pressed the heel of your foot against his ass, trying to draw him even closer. He obliged as best he could by arching his body against yours. Chest to chest. Feeling you along his entire body was wonderful in a way he couldn't pin down. He pulled away from your mouth to trail kisses languidly along your jaw, behind your ear, down your neck - anywhere he could reach.
"What if we get caught?" you whisper, but you show no signs of discomfort at the thought. He could feel your heart racing. How scandalous of you.
He chuckled against your skin. "I almost wouldn't mind that," he admitted with a smirk. "Letting them watch as I fuck you on my grave."
A low sound, only audible to his sensitive ears and proximity to your chest, told him just how much you loved the idea as well. Seeing him so happy and excited to be "reborn" turned you on. He deserved this joy.
You tug at his hair again, pulling him away from your neck so you can cup his cheek and look him in the eye. Your pupils are already blown with lust, and he's certain his are, too. "Are you sure you want this?"
He smiles. He leans down to press a soft, chaste kiss to your lips. Your eyes don't leave him as he does, studying him. "My love," he breathes, "I want nothing more."
---
Tag List:
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johnnys-breastmilk · 2 months
Text
URGGGGGEEEEE!!!!!!!!!! | zed necrodopolis x male!reader
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a/n — putting this as male reader because it's implied. not explicitly stated but I don't want to misadvertise the fic lol, gender neutral pronouns and body parts used. I don't really like the smut in this but the idea was funny to me… this fic will definitely be non-canon by the time Z4 releases!!
summary — Zed goes to Mountain College and gets a sex toy, his roommate comes to their shared dorm at a bad time.
words — 3k
warnings — smut! 18+ | implications of sex and actual sex occur, uses of the word "gooning", zed zombies out and they fuck so... feral!Zed, slight dubcon!! - first zombies fic so it may be ooc or just poorly written
~~~
Fall was in full swing at Mountain College. Soon the tops of roofs would be snowcapped and walkways would be sprinkled with salt, but for now, everyone tried to enjoy the weather while it was still warm. Sloping sides brought the occasional gusts of wind that all of the early morning go-getters had to deal with. They had to learn the hard way to bundle up if they wanted to make it to class without becoming the next monster to roam the Earth—probably as a snow yeti or something similar. The lecture halls were grand to handle the kind of metamorphosis a lot of human and inhuman students would be going through over the course of their early adult years. The only place where people were forced to grow together were the dorm rooms—as a push for inclusivity at Mountain College left everyone in close quarters to someone—or something—they had no clue existed before college. It was another thing to learn about, to understand that the small circle of your hometown isn’t the only circle to exist. People have groups that come in all shapes and sizes, and not all of them are going to fit together nicely, but that doesn’t mean there can’t be an effort. But there was one unspoken rule that everyone had to learn, regardless of their major: don’t enter a room with a tie, sock, or anything hanging off the door handle. Not at parties, not in classrooms—if there was such a thing to happen, and especially not at your dorm.
When Zed arrived at Mountain College, he never expected anyone to be as pro-zombie as they were. His roommate was insanely warm and kind to him. No one really hid who they were here. They were at that stage where they left the conformities of high school and living with their parents to being so overwhelmed with freedom that they had no way to grasp everything they had. The freedom; the new flaws determined by society were still unclear. Zed was one of those people, being free from the shackles of Seabrook and Zombietown’s driving force in unity to being another student in a sea full of them. It wasn’t to the same extent that he had gone through, but the established scene of breaking free from your past to start something new is what really pushed him to start trying things. He wanted to be a part of the community and to do that, you have to understand the area first. 
Zed started by doing most of his workouts around campus, then transitioning over to the city that was built around Mountain College. The short drive down to the city below could be completed in a timely manner during a daring jog down the road leading to the developed area. He never wore more than a tank top and shorts for his morning runs. The college was north of the city, so he only ever rarely went into the downtown area during his morning runs. He decided to go farther on his run today since he had an upcoming game and needed to burn off the endless brain-fest for dinner from the night before. So many calories, so little scores during his big game was how he viewed it.
Most of the shops still weren’t open, but there was one on this block that was still open. It turns out that the shop was not opening early in the morning, but in fact, closing after a very late night. The neon signs had yet to be turned off, and one reading ‘OPEN’ in big illuminated letters drew his attention. Next to it was a red triple-X sign.
The fleshlight was cobbled together with scraps and carefully welded parts to resemble the repurposed items of Zombietown. It reminded him of home, and the clerk told him that the toy was advanced, deceiving the average person by appearing to only be made of scraps and to have the basic, archaic function of just fucking it. Inside it was a hidden set of magnetic coils that both provided the correct amount of electromagnetic pulses through the zombie’s dick to prevent them from turning into the much more unpleasant version of themselves and it heightened the feeling of jerking off while the machine made contact with the skin from the inside.
He listened to what the clerk had to say about remembering to take off his Z-Band so it wouldn’t overstimulate him to the point of numbness, and that the side effects of it were mainly just slowed brain activity from “too much gooning.” As Zed would be quick to learn, it was called going cockdumb. There was the opposite, too, where his zombie side would forfeit all rational thought and quickly take whatever the closest thing to fuck is around to poundtown.
He learned quickly, though, and did as he said when he got back to his dorm. The order of instructions was simple: get yourself ready—get your dick hard, is how he interpreted it, take off the Z-Band, and use the fleshlight to calm all of his zombie urges. Before he started any of that, though, he placed one of his ties around the door handle facing the hallway. Then he got undressed, stripping down until the full-body mirror over his closet’s sliding door reflected his pale figure and vibrant green hair. He stood in the frame, checking out his recent gains for a second—still eternally lanky, but he was starting to fill out in the places that mattered.
His hands roamed over his body until he got down to his nether regions. Zed rubbed his dick until he was hard enough to stick his dick in the fleshlight, then watched in the mirror as he took off his Z-Band. The area around his eyes started to darken and dark veins started coursing all over his body. He took a few deep breaths before reaching for the fleshlight, each breath drawn in becoming more raspy as his insides changed in a way he couldn’t see. Carefully, holding on to it with an intentionally lighter grip so as to not overuse his own strength, he guided it over his cock and watched his tip disappear into the slit. He moaned, it was tight. He moaned again, it was vibrating. And then he looked back up at his reflection, the monstrous features were gone. 
Zed never told you about his little reveries into sex and pleasure as the weeks went on. After that faithful day, he found that he came harder and started to crave the feeling of release more and more. The feeling was simply addictive to him: a mix of tingles from the electro-pulses and genuine pleasure from the stimulation. But with how frequently he did it, there was bound to be a day where mistiming or miscommunication would expose him in the act. Today was that day.
It was around two in the afternoon, the ground was covered in a thin layer of snow and Zed had stopped his morning runs in favor of a quick indoor exercise and then moved to jerking off while the sun rose—you were returning to your shared dorm with the zombie from a lecture, notably earlier than usual. It was a Gen-Ed for biology, something that Zed had learned when you approached him one night in the hopes of having him help you. If he remembered correctly, it was about zombies—a newly implemented unit in the curriculum, now finding its way into its own circle of life. New studies emerged about the carbon emission of their dead cells that Zed couldn’t help with, but he explained how he felt that he functioned and the way he and plants interacted. That was at the beginning of the semester and it was how he found out that your class ran until around two-thirty. Usually.
Zed was enjoying his time inside for a change. Having finished his classes for the day and feeling the testosterone of his morning workout preserved through it all, he decided the best thing to do during his alone time was to use his broken-in toy. Zed was confident enough to not hide his sex life—well, he was confident enough to act like he was having sex with someone else, not his sex toy or the fact that he edged himself until he literally couldn’t hold it in anymore. That part was thankfully undisclosed by everyone since they knew not to enter his dorm, but you entered without thinking. He was laid back on his bed, staring at the ceiling like the white ceiling was painted over with the limitless stream of thoughts flowing out of his head. His eyes were shut, soft moans slipped out and he barely shifted the fleshlight on his dick out of the fear of blowing his load too early.
His load threatening to come out dissipated quickly, though, when he heard the door handle click. Then the hydraulic mechanisms that would normally push the door shut started to whir as it opened. He reached for the blanket he slept under, letting the fleshlight hang off his dick so he could find something to cover himself up. He was mad at himself for slipping into the habit of playing with himself while naked, but it was so much easier to bunch his comforter up against the wall and lay in bed with easy access to all of his holes. In the seconds—which felt even shorter for him—he covered his lower half and just accepted that you would see his bare torso. With enough smooth talking, he could convince you that he had just woken up from a nap. 
“Don’t be mad.” You said, coming in, hoping that he wasn’t with a naked girl or anything. You tried keeping your view of the inside of the room as limited as possible by turning your head just in case. “But I got out early ‘cause of the weather and I saw the sock…”
The only issue was that his fleshlight was forming a bump in his sheets, meaning that he couldn’t be laid down without it looking like he had a huge dick—or what would be the more reasonable explanation: he had a sex toy. Either way, it looked unnatural. So while you were still acclimating to the sight of him, purposefully looking away to give him time to cover up. You were still under the impression that someone else was in there, but you heard the clatter of something hit the floor, followed by a hasty curse under his breath.
You decided that you had given him long enough and finally looked into your shared dorm room. On the floor was a machine made out of old zombie parts that seemed to have broken into pieces, scattered around a pair of bare feet that padded around the carpet in panic. Your eyes trailed up to see Zed, naked and with a raging hard dick. Still freshly coated from the lube he pumped into his fleshlight, still wet enough to glisten in the sunlight pouring in the window behind him. And to say he was naked didn’t mean much, because he was truly naked—no Z-Band in sight on his body. His dick was red for only a second before the veins on it darkened along with the rest of his body. 
Somehow, his dick looked to be bigger, more intimidating. The dark shade it turned caused it to look like anything but slimming. His chest started heaving and that drew you to his arms, bulging with thick black veins that trailed up his arms and increasingly curved arms. They started finding their way to his midsection until his hands reached his dick. Neither one touched his pulsing cock, but motioned around it as if he knew that the fleshlight was unusable. He started fucking the air like he knew the presence of it from his more conscious and tame state.
Incoherently, through a gust of grunts and growls, he started speaking. It sounded like the friendly words he used during your past exchanges but were blatantly needy and desperate. You couldn’t quite hear what he said, so you moved closer under the assumption that he still had some control. Some sense of sanity without his Z-Band on. But as soon as you were within his reach…
Zed grabbed you, pulling you closer to his naked form. You looked at the dark circles around his eyes before meeting his actual eyes. A few words slipped through—as if he could still recall the language he had used for years somewhere deep in his brain—slurring out a loose connection of words that sounded like: “You break it… I break you…”
Zed’s mind was everywhere yet nowhere at once. His feral side was feeling and processing all of the emotions from his “human” side. So many things in his head were whirring for the first time in a while, and nothing was shutting down to compensate for the rising new emotions of rapacity—the urge to have it all and take it all. His head was already running at one-hundred and ten percent so now he needed to claim things in the room. To make things his. His room; the little voice in the back of his head that he suppressed about being annoyed by the fact that he had to share a room with you was finally being heard. You’d walk out of this—or better yet, be carried—with a new perspective on ownership.
Sex with Zed was fast. The urges brought on by his true zombie nature allowed him to rip off the clothes you wore to attend class. They were in shreds, adding to scattered bits of his broken toy, some landing on the sharper parts of it so that you didn’t have to worry about stepping on something painful as he guided you to his bed. It was the closest one to him and the easiest to throw you down on since the sheets were all undone, unmade. He would make you a mess in the next few moments so it didn’t really matter to him.
But for the first time, Zed was faced with a challenge in his zombie brain. He had put you on his bed—the faint smells of sex and sweat emanating into your nose from how much he jerked off in his bed, typically covered by his comforter—but now he looked at you, laid on your back, head on his pillow, and he was faced with one of two choices: did he want to cum in your mouth or your ass? He wanted to do both, and he hit his head in frustration, grunting. The simple thoughts his undead brain was meant to handle couldn’t stomach this as easily as brains.
A feeling deep within him told him that your ass would bring him the greater amount of pleasure, so he hopped on the bed with you, kneeling. His increased strength allowed him to lift your legs easily and with an unmatched haste. Your hole was in clear sight, and he wasted no time in burying himself down into it and lapping away. It was another sensation he had, thanks to consuming a million videos of porn in his spare time. That, and he was still a zombie. Flesh was something that he wanted to taste during his feral frenzy. It was the only thing his tongue tasted: the saltiness of skin. He felt so good, and you wanted to bury your fingers in his vibrant green hair to push him deeper into you, but that seemed a little too risky in his current state. Besides, he didn’t stay down there long. His head reared up a few moments after going down on you, his clear intention to fuck you until he comes, not the other way around.
Thanks to already fucking his fleshlight, his dick was still coated in lube; still sheening with its slick surface reflecting the light. When he put his dick in, he didn’t feel any friction, and he wouldn’t have cared if he did. The friction didn’t bother him and if it didn’t bother him, then it shouldn’t bother you. It never became a problem, though.
Zed decided that the perfect position to keep you in was with your legs over each of his thin shoulders. He started thrusting, taking little to no time to go as fast as he could. He was desperate, uncaring if you needed time to adjust. But, like everything else about his zombie-heightened feelings, what it took to make him cum went up too—much higher than his regular edging point. 
Zed was a quick learner. He found which spots made you feel the best—well, which ones made your face twist and your head turn into his pillow as he fucked you. That seemed to make him climb to the peak faster than anything else. Your ass was tight and soft, sure, but it was your reaction to how he dominated you with his big dick that really made him get going. He unleashed a flurry of moans that were deeper than the voice you got used to hearing.
Wet sounds and slapping filled the room until he came for the first time. You could feel your ass burning from the rough slapping and the way he kept up the skin-to-skin contact—breeding you until he was out of breath. Just like when he first transformed into the beastly version of himself. 
Zed pulled his dick out and you could hear the wet gushing, as well as the feeling of your hole leaking with his cum. He must have been really pent-up because it was already ruining his sheets and still seeping out of the tip of his dick. You looked around for his Z-band, still gathering your surroundings and acclimating yourself to the point-of-view of his bed. It looked to be on his dresser and within arm’s reach, so you went to grab it. But Zed stopped you, guiding your hand to his dick that was still hard. This was going to be a long night…
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seilon · 1 year
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one of my number one pieces of advice for transmascs starting t or who want to start t is WASH YOUR FACE. when you wake up and when you go to bed. get a decent acne-preventing facial cleanser and an oil-free moisturizer or whatever works for you and have a routine– preferably before going on t so you’re already used to it. my doctor was really surprised that I hadnt gotten much acne since starting t (almost 2 years now) and though it’s also partly genetics, I know for a Fact based on how quickly my face gets oily now that it’d be infinitely worse if not for getting used to washing my face more often/thoroughly. remember. yes this is like Puberty 2 BUT you have the fuckin heads up this time and can plan accordingly and that makes a BIG difference
#kibumblabs#transmasc#trans man#advice#hrt#idk why I felt the need to make this PSA but. yeah its important#I also recommend using some tretanoin overnight if need be#I never had a legit skincare routine until starting t and now it’s like. a requirement#I need it to Survive#for reference I use aveeno clear complexion foam face cleanser and Trader Joe’s brand oil-free facial moisturizer#the latter i lowkey stole from my roommate cause she got it as a gift and never used it and probably it forgot it existed#not some specialized brand or anything but it’s surprisingly really nice- and I’m real picky about what I put on my face cause it’s real#easy for moisturizers to make me feel real greasy (and without any moisturizer my skin dries out and gets patchy dry spots)#it’s very light and odorless but it does it’s job and a little goes a long way#this sounds like a sponsored ad now but look. I’m just saying#honestly it’s a fucking miracle I didn’t get terrible breakouts in middle school during Puberty 1 cause man I. I didn’t take my eyeliner off#when I went to bed alot of the time. and I don’t think I really washed my face at all#I have no idea how I lived like that it would drive me fucking insane as an adult#half cause of skin being more sensitive to that sorta thing now but half because I’m just way more of a neatfreak for lack of a better word#now and it’s so easy for me to feel uncomfortable when things aren’t clean and cleaned in a certain way#anyway I’m rambling
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starswguru · 2 months
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❝ message in a bottle ; 마크이
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𖥻 pairing: college!mark lee x female reader
𖥻 contains: college!au, fluff, slight angst, second chance romance
𖥻 warnings: swearing, marijuana & alcohol consumption / english is not my first language and this is my first work ever on tumblr so i am sorry if there are any grammar mistakes or misspellings
word count — 4.06k
synopsis — you and mark were in a situationship for a few months before things ended poorly when you got too scared of your feelings and he had to leave the country for an exchange program in london. now, six months later, you were at a party with your friends and discovered mark was back in town.
🎀
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AND just like that, your whole world stopped spinning for a long and torturous minute. in the blink of an eye, you went from being over-the-moon excited — and slightly intoxicated — with the idea of partying with your friends during the first summer night before heading to your hometown in the next couple of days to being paralyzed, feeling all your blood get drained far away from where it should be in your body. in the blink of an eye, you went from being a happy girl with the arrival of the last member of your friend group to someone terrified with the sight of a ghost from the past. a quick glance, unintended by all means, in mark’s direction was all it took for the memories from that previous year to come flooding back to hit you like a lost train.
“hey, princess,” he said. his cheeks burning in a shade of shameful red, but something stronger than him was preventing his stare from going anywhere else other than your eyes. there was a blunt hanging between his teeth. “how you doing?”
“that’s it, guys; i’m done with this. i’m just gonna change my major or something like that! everything’s going terribly wrong, and i can’t keep torturing myself by studying this shit.”
you dropped your head and rested your forehead on your arm that lay on top of the desk in front of you right as the confession slipped from your lips like a dangerous poison that you should not have taken. it was the first time you’d ever said it out loud to someone else to hear — other than the mischievous voice inside your head — how you truly felt about the english major you were pursuing. the fear of judgment and of being too hasty about this decision was corroding every last bit of your emotional health, and because of it, you could sense that a storm was coming. what if you did change majors and ended up not adapting? how would you find a job, or better yet: how would you support living all by yourself if you couldn’t even pick an undergraduate academic path? time was running out, and the unbearable clock inside your mind wouldn’t give you a break. the tick-tacking of the goddamn thing was going to drive you to insanity at any point soon.
“hey, chill for once, okay? it’s normal to feel like that and to want something new. hell, i know i had to change my major twice before finding out what i actually wanted to do. jae did the same thing. you’re not alone.” jeno offered you a small yet reassuring smile or someone who didn’t quite know what to say but still wanted to see his friend more relaxed.
“exactly! take a deep breath and think things through with an easy heart. if you need help, we’re here to help you." swallowing the last bite of the sandwich he had bought earlier, renjun tapped the notebook in front of him. “how’s that linguistics project going?”
as you raised your head, you shook your head in a negative sign. “i mean, it’s good. too good, actually… and that’s sort of the problem. like, the dude i’m working with is super sweet and really fucking good at this class and so he’s kind of doing the whole thing by himself and dragging me along with it ever since we started. i feel terrible, even if he says it’s all good and stuff, but it is what it is, i guess.”
before either of the guys could express any opinion about what was just said, a guy with freshly cut black hair — it was even possible to see the drawing of a spiderweb on the left side of his undercut —, earphones in and a large yankees shirt approached the desk, more specifically you, and offered a genuine smile that wasn’t common to see between two colleagues who were only working on a school project together at you. the unknown man squatted so he could be at your height and unlocked his ipad’s screen to the word document the two of you were using to write notes together, or at least that was the initial idea because the reality was that mark was doing all of it alone, proudly.
“oh, hi, y/n, you good? just wanted to ask you a quick question… have you taken a look at this topic right here? i know we’re only supposed to work on it in two weeks but i was wondering if maybe you’ve come up with the same conclusion as me.”
feeling a thousand times more embarrassed than if a professor asked you to present a thirty-minute seminar alone in front of the whole class, you felt the tip of your fingers getting cold and a thin droplet of sweat rolling down your temple. “uhm, hey, mark. yeah, about that… look, i didn’t really have a chance to look at that yet, i’m sorry. i can barely manage this week’s assignments, let alone two weeks from now. i- i’ll text you when i read it, okay?”
you didn’t know it at the time — or if you did, you had an enviable ability of discretion — but every single time mark heard his name escape from your heavenly drawn lips, his heart would skip a beat or two and he felt like he was about to combust at any second. it was the first time in his whole life that he had ever felt that way about someone and dealing with feelings of that magnitude was both weird and extraordinary, which meant that the ravenette wasn’t completely aware of how to process them. mark’s solution for his overwhelming thoughts whenever you were around was to take charge of everything he could in that project, to make you feel relaxed about that one particular class. the canadian was terrible at linguistics, for his skills were much more reliable during literature classes: he could interpret and internalize poetry from the eighteenth century like it was nothing, and plays written in latin during the roman empire were of natural understanding for him; and yet, ever since the first day of that semester in which it was requested that both of you joined efforts to build the complicated assignment, it was impossible for mark to not pull all-nighters reading texts and more texts, watching one video class after another that broke down the subject of that class just so he could give his absolute best when the time came to work alongside you and you didn’t find him an idiot, as most people in that university usually did after meeting him for the first time.
mark just wanted to impress you and the last thing he could be worried about was doing all that alone, as long as it meant that he could still have the minimum interaction with you.
“yeah, sure, that’s cool. if you need anything let me know, alright?”
you were still in a state of complete shock. no words would come out of your mouth, making it impossible to answer properly the question directed at you by the boy that a year before was the reason for many sleepless nights and therapy sessions, through no fault of his, which was even worse, because mark was perfect and you hated yourself for how everything ended.
a cold breeze, too cold for a summer night, hit the both of you with enough strength to make you shiver and it was only then that you realized that none of your friends were around anymore. you were alone again with mark for what had felt like a lifetime since he left the country for an exchange program in london and with enough unspoken words to make the whole situation a million times more uncomfortable than it needed to be. what were you supposed to say right now? “oh, hi, mark, long time no see! listen, i’m really sorry for being horrible to you last year, i’ve spent the last six months torturing myself because i only woke up to the fact that i had let the perfect guy for me get away too late to try and fix everything”? you ran your fingers through your hair, knowing that there were no words of your knowledge that could make it easier, that could put together again the pieces of what had once been something magical that the two of them were building.
you couldn’t care less about all those times your therapist tried to be kinder to your heart than you had ever been, or how your friends always tried to distract your mind from the constant haunt of self-collection and, to be honest, didn’t really mind that yes, after all the effort and studying, you had managed to change your major to something you actually enjoyed if the price for it was to drop the perfect crystal piece that was mark’s precious heart. there were no words that could take that back, and going against every piece of advice that was given to you, you had imagined more times than you’d like to admit how this encounter would play out: what you would do, what you would say or not say, how it’d feel… but none of those scenarios inside your mind was anywhere near to the real sensation of being in front of him again.
mark looked taller — or maybe it was just the feeling of missing him crushing your soul and clouding your judgment —, the slim body now gave way to the body of a man who went to the gym and tried to truly take care of his health, his hair that previously used to be as dark as the t-shirts he used to enjoy wearing was now covered in a shade of red so bright that it reminded you of his favorite superhero’s suit. even still, the one thing that caught your attention the most were his eyes. before mark left, before the whole chaos, they were always big and full of life, like those of a curious cub and you could always feel a cozy warmth travel across your body when mark looked at you with such brightness; however, it seemed that ever since the canadian got back in town, they were opaque, closed off to the outer world as if his eyes were now carrying some kind of intense melancholy behind them. the familiar redness in his sclerae, months ago, used to always be accompanied by an excited and smiling version of mark lee, but that night the only thing apparent to you was that lee was holding on to weed like some kind of way to numb the break-up pain.
the redhead had lived a thousand different lives during his exchange: saw and learned things that he knew he would never have achieved if he hadn't accepted the opportunity to go to england and yet, his mind couldn’t recall any of those experiences with the genuine happiness he should’ve felt like any other normal and grateful person would if they were on his shoes; to mark, ever since you left him all alone, he had turned into nothing but an empty shell of what should’ve been the real mark lee. what were his experiences, his learnings, his funny stories if, at any moment, he was allowed to at least call the person he loved and share all of that with her?
“yeah, i guess i’m okay.” you answered, holding back a cry that was stuck in your throat before looking away. “you?”
a shiver went down the english student as he waited for his project partner to arrive at the coffee shop you two had agreed to meet at to finish for good the agonizing linguistics document. it didn’t even seem real that you were finally concluding the most stressful and endless project of your university career until that moment and despite the sweet taste of reaching the finish line, mark had on his lips a bitter one, because he knew that the very instant you pressed “send” on the body of that e-mail to your professor, all of his excuses to talk to you would come to an end. it was only the beginning of november, you should spend at least a few more weeks studying together if said professor were to follow a normal academic calendar like the rest of his fellow colleagues of the department.
mark would only have one last chance of making this work out and that chance was right there and then. anxiety and fear were destroying the boy with more strength than he himself was biting through his nails waiting for you to arrive.
“gosh, mark, i’m so sorry!” you said in a panting tone when you finally managed to get to the coffee shop and met the guy that, by that point, had already become your friend. “the bus took forever to get to the stop i needed and then the subway was also chaotic… anyways, i’m sorry that i’m late.”
the both of you stayed a long time in that coffee shop, not only finishing the assignment but also laughing together and watching a few episodes of modern family on his computer as a way to relax after all the constant flow of negative emotions the both of you were facing during that semester due to not only that particular class but also all the other ones with their enormous reading load. by the time you had indeed finished what you were supposed to do, you were feeling so comfortable in mark’s presence that you didn’t even notice when you heart started to race faster and faster before the mundane things the lee did: the way he smiled from ear to ear, or how kind he was to everyone around him. you were starting to fall in love with how mark explained all the different concepts he used to build his arguments across the paper like someone would explain the most basic things to a child, and you thought it was sweet the way he would say “dude” and “no way” every couple of sentences that fell from his lips. but, above all, unconsciously, the way mark seemed to glow every time he looked at you was ethereal to your eyes.
as soon as you sent the hated file, it started to rain on the outside of the coffee shop, but contrary to the ideal scenario, you couldn’t stay in there just waiting until the climate conditions became more favorable because the two of you had places to be at, on opposite directions. there would be no other alternative but to run to the nearest subway station, or in the brunette’s case, the bus stop.
mark immediately took off his hoodie to shield you as best as he could from the rain, in exchange for you protecting his backpack that contained his computer as if your life depended on it, the moment you two stepped outside the establishment and something of a thunderstorm was taking over the avenue. mark couldn’t help it and ended up laughing at the situation you two had found yourselves in, thinking about how he wished he was a little less broke and had a car to take the girl of his dreams back to her place without having to worry about the rain, or how he wished he was stronger to pick you up and carry you to the subway station and, with that, spare your shoes from coming in contact with the soaked surface of the sidewalk. before you could notice, you were right in front of the stairs that led to the station.
“bye, i think.” you said, giggling along with him while you tried to fix your hair that, despite mark’s hoodie’s protection, still got wet from the rain.
the lee was going to answer you like a decent and proper person, he really was, but in that very moment, a raindrop fell from the marquee above you and somehow managed to hit you right on the forehead, which made you close your eyes, but mark kept his wide open. with an automatic reaction of his body, almost like an involuntary movement that he was incapable of controlling — such as the beats of his accelerated heart — his left hand traveled to your neck while his right thumb was busy drying the solitary raindrop slowly, to give his mind time to analyze every little inch of your face so close to his. mark tried to respond with words to your farewell, but his impulse to kiss you was far stronger than any cohesive phrase that his brain could formulate in that moment.
the literature student, now in his final semester, nodded as he bit his lower lip and those opaque eyes fell to the floor beneath his feet after stepping on the remaining of his blunt. mark didn’t even know why he started that conversation in the first place, it was obvious that it was impossible for him to stand close to you without it affecting some part of him — whether for good or for bad — and even still, there he was, not managing to say a single word to you, nor being able to get closer, just feeding that giant gray and terrifying cloud that grew over both of your heads due to the impasse of what this was and what it should have been.
unlike his mind, that was only able to repeat tirelessly the day he finally built the confidence to kiss you, yours was in a hurricane of terrible memories that involved the brief, yet intense, relationship you two shared — or whatever the hell one could call it. how was it even possible that something that lasted only four months could leave such deep scars?
if mark was trying to hold back a smile remembering how it felt to have your lips on top of his, you were only torturing yourself with the replayed image of mark being crushed in front of you, by no fault other than your own. it was your fault that fear was allowed to consume every single good thing that the lee had ever given you; it was your fault that you’d thought that whole thing was a sick and sadistic joke from the universe and that, in reality, there was no way someone like him could've ever fallen in love with you. in the deepest, darkest, cruelest part of your soul, you were convinced that everything was your fault and not your mind trying to destroy you before something so pure and happy.
you were a sinking ship, navigating towards a port with not a single sight of a lighthouse’s spark to help you, not knowing how to reach the treasure that awaited your arrival because other people had already destroyed the lighthouse. the ability to grope around, trying to find yourself in the darkness you’d placed yourself, was stripped away from you the second you gave in to the bruises that were caused by third parties, and mark knew it wasn't your fault, although it was still difficult to try and be the guide to someone that wouldn't allow them to have access to the heat and light from the fire he tried to offer.
without even realizing it, the silenced cry stuck in your throat for months on end started to escape, not giving you any power to control it. you felt anger, sadness, frustration and you were missing mark… all at the very same time, in an endless swirl triggered by the mere vision of having mark back into your reality.
just like the first time you kissed, the unconscious answer of mark lee’s body to the sound of you crying after such a long time being away from you was to wrap his arms around your body without allowing himself to give too much thought to the action that just took place. if it was even possible, noticing you needing him in any way, shape or form was a true calling for him and it didn't matter how much time could've gone by, the lee couldn't ignore it. to love you and protect you was just as natural as breathing.
between the supplications for your tears to stop and hair strokes, mark then began to feel something that he thought was dead coming back to life inside the hollow box that was his chest. for months now, the redhead just knew that his heart was no longer there. instead, it must've been put inside a bottle and thrown away into the ocean that separated his emotions from his rational mind, as if he wasn't even the owner of his own feelings.
“please, princess, don't cry. i’m begging you.”
the cruelty of your mind wouldn't give you a break for not even a single second ever since the last time you've heart mark’s melodious voice so close to your ear, and the fact that it carried the same heavy tone of request didn't help with your genuine desire to stop your sobbings as your face was pressed against his chest. in that moment, the last thing on your mind were the looks that other people could be directing at the two of you; you could only see the desperation all over the face of the only man you've ever truly loved. he was in such pain that day — the day you told him you didn't want to see him anymore. soon, though, that image was replaced with the memory of the gut-wrenching feeling of chronic emptiness that filled your chest the following week and you came to your senses that you had make a mistake, but that it was also too late: mark was in another country, it was far too late to ask for forgiveness.
“i know you probably hate me right now. i shouldn't have done that, i shouldn't have said that, i was such an idiot, stupid… i'm sorry, mark, i don't know what was going on in my mind to treat like that, i-”
that sobbing wouldn't allow you to form coherent sentences properly and the way you were crying so helplessly was becoming melancholic instead of just sad to the man holding you. if only mark could get into your merciless head just how he would never be able to hate you, not in a million years, not when there was so much love, desire and adoration intrinsic to the image he had of you, then maybe that big gray cloud would disappear forever and the two of you could just live like he hoped for. all mark wanted was to have the privilege of loving you again.
“y/n, look at me” mark held the red and tear wet face of his beloved girl with kindness while his tone of voice was filled with all the firmness the moment could ask for. “for christ’s sake, y/n, i love you. i could never hate you. dude, really, for once just keep your head out of this and focus on what i’m telling you right now. i love you and this whole time i was thinking of you. only you.”
even if he knew you wouldn't answer anything for a few seconds, or maybe even minutes, mark just allowed a sweet smile to appear on his lips while he delighted himself with the feeling of being allowed to hold your face once again, to stroke your cheeks and to place small, delicate kisses all over your beautiful face — which he knew would force your breathing to slow down, giving you the chance to calm down again. the canadian was smelling like the combination of weed and beer, but somehow, your body knew how to identify the familiar and characteristic smell of his cologne; the same smell your searched for and ached for during the coldest nights, when missing him was too overwhelming it almost felt like a hole was being digged up in your chest. that familiarity was the reason for the shy smile that took over your lips, that opened a breach for light and happiness after all those tears while mark traced your lips with his thumb, admiring you like you were some kind of artwork created just for him.
“i was made to stay just like this with you, princess. and i’m not leaving this time.”
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chrollohearttags · 1 year
Note
high eren is always more aggressive in bed and y/n acting out for him? ten times worse. yeah he’s been cooped up in his studio for two days without paying his wife’s neediness any mind but a fat blunt and her attitude will definitely do the trick
yep, that’ll do it 😩 y’all know I love me some mean eren.
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cw: rough sex, eren is so mean omg :( weed use, choking, degradation and name calling, HEAVY breeding, some other things, porn w no plot and we getting straight into it 🤭
“..’Rennnn, slow downnn..fuck!” (Y/N)’s whiny breath exclaimed in a choked out moan. It was all you could even manage or muster at the moment, considering your husband was currently fucking you absolutely senseless! You had no idea what had incited this change in him but you were certain it could only be deduced to him being holed up in his workspace for forty eight hours, trying to complete an important deadline and you making it no better by being a brat. Annoying him every hour to come spend time with you and then giving him the silent treatment when it was too late. He was stressed..in need of an outlet and your little pussy seemed like the perfect source. Hence why he had you folded up on the couch, ass in the air as he hit you from the back..
“Shut the fuck up and take this dick…doing all this begging for it, now you wanna stop?” you had never heard your sweet Eren be so mean. But that’s how he was when he was not only in extreme duress but intoxicated! A firm hand planted to the center of your spine, the other pulling at your hair and an ignited blunt pursed between his pouty pink lips. His green eyes glossed over in a haze of euphoria from the potent weed and the ripple of your thick ass driving him insane. He didn’t care about your tears, how many times you claimed to not be able to come anymore or if you clawed the damn cotton from the sofa…this body was his until he couldn’t bust another nut! So he’d hopelessly thrust his hips forward, digging you out with this massive dick…letting the throbbing tip peck your g-spot and beyond with each stroke. Just then, you felt his hand collide with your asscheek once more and it was much harder than the last slap! Not to mention, a palm suddenly snaking around your throat! “And I told you to keep that back arched, didn’t I? What, you can’t fucking listen now? Or do you only hear what you want to?” Even still, it excited you a little..
taking you right there in the living room because he couldn’t even be bothered to carry you to the bed. Talking to you like nothing more than a toy…it brought out a feeling you never knew you liked. That much apparent by the way that tight cunt clamped around him each time he spat at you or called you out of your name..maybe you’d anger him more often! Mounted like a wild animal in heat, (y/n) would feel the strands of his long hair tickling your shoulder blade; tingling in several places as he hissed in your ear. “Mmm…I’m sorry, daddy. You’re just fucking me so g-good..I can’t help it.. ‘s too deep..” crying out with tear stained eyes and a trembling lip that done nothing more than make your man laugh and taunt you. “Awww, my little slut can’t take anymore?..can’t handle it, yeah?” His words like venom seeping through your veins and making your spine tingle. But before you could answer, he’d rut his hips even harder, completely planked atop you with his hand cupping the back of your neck to keep you pinned down. Feeling each deep thrust in the pit of your stomach. Along with the sloshing of him fucking his own seed out of you. “Then next time you’ll act like you have some goddamn sense and stop testing me..” muttering out of frustration with the rhythm of his pounding becoming much faster and your cries growing louder in return. Chocolate eyes trailing to the back of your skull as a result. “Baby…pleaseeee.” This man is going crazy…making you see stars and regret all of your bitching. When you felt him slow to sporadic strokes and hear the huffs heaving from his barreled chest, you knew he was close yet again. It’d be a matter of time before he stuffed you with more of that creamy mixture. Only furthering the mess of your previous orgasms below. Having already two knots prior..
“I swear you piss me off sometimes but this pussy feels so good, baby…fuck!” Drawing out in a long, whiny breath whilst he drilled further. Your legs had become all but useless by this point..causing (y/n) to collapse into the cushions, smothering your face into the pillows. Unable to silence you entirely or muffle the sounds of you begging to come and for him to do the same. In his mind, he wanted to keep going..relentlessly fucking the shit out of you all night until you learned your lesson. However, it wasn’t realistic, seeing as how you were tightening around his shaft. He didn’t have to tell you what to do, hell, he never did because you responded to his body on instinct..completely bound to him and instead, you’d both fall into those climaxes as one. “Shit….right there. Come on that dick, bitch..you can give me one more..” Fading into bliss as you hit your peak again. Your breath hitching in your chest and windpipe, making you gasp once you came back to..normally, he’d be rather attentive to your needs, making sure you were okay before going any further. However, your husband wasn’t bothering to be so kind tonight. It didn’t mean he loved you any less because he couldn’t even if he tried but your sassiness and this substance had awoken a different side of him. So the second you slathered him in your silky cream, he filled your fertile little womb more of his own seed. That swollen, battered pussy probably unable to house another droplet of his cum. He didn’t pull out right away though..he’d allow it to sink into you until he no longer could stay in it. Slapping that length between your bubbly cheeks and caressing your back as he chuckled. “I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to be so rough with you..just really stressed out but you did so good f’r me.” His praise being all but worth it. Seeming that whatever spell that had overcome him was lifted and he was back to his normal, sweet, doting self..but it did instill something in your brain..a lesson that you’d never forget:
make him mad more often!
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cuubism · 3 months
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I'd love something about Dream who's very aware that he's way too intense romantically while also being not intense enough sexually because he's ace. His partners usually prefer it the other way around. If that's something you'd be willing to write (if not that's okay too)
hmm yes, we can always do ace dream. though we didn't quite reach 'aware' 😂 human uni au is what popped to my mind
--
When Hob gets back from class, Dream is lying facedown on the couch, one long arm trailing morosely down to the floor, face smashed so deeply into a pillow that Hob can only see the tufts of his hair. He seems to have been there for some time, and doesn't move when Hob comes in.
"Horrors insurmountable today?" Hob asks as he puts down his bag and heads to the adjoining kitchen to grab a snack. He'll probably need to grab one for Dream, too, now that he thinks about it. Doubtful he's eaten.
Dream just makes an mmph sound against his pillow. Then, once Hob's returned to the living room with a plate of apple slices, Dream pops his head up, lines all over his cheek from the pillow, fluffy hair going every which way, and says, "How much do you care about sex?"
Hob nearly trips and flings his apple slices everywhere. "What?"
"In general," Dream persists, heedless of Hob's shock. "Do you subscribe to the belief that individuals past puberty, particularly men, think about sex constantly, or is that an exaggeration? Which do you think is more important in a partnership: compatible personalities, or compatible sex drives? And why?"
"What is this, a sociology assignment?"
"Answer, please," Dream insists.
Hob sighs and gives in to the mad questioning. Joke's on him for having an insane roommate. "I thought about sex all the time when I was thirteen, maybe. Right now I'm just thinking about how I haven't eaten since breakfast and I'm fucking starving but we're playing Twenty Questions instead of eating. And as to the second one, I don't know, Dream, I think both are probably important."
"So you think about sex an amount you would consider 'frequent'," Dream presses.
Hob's cheeks heat. Sex is not really a topic he wants to discuss with Dream of all people. Those two thoughts don't meld together into anything good for polite company. "I don't know, I guess!? Doesn't everyone?"
Dream lets out a despairing wail and thumps his head back into his pillow. "I am outnumbered."
Hob still has no idea what the hell he's on about. He finally gives up and just starts eating the apple slices. He offers one to Dream, holding it by the corner of his eye until he finally sees it and takes it, turns his head to the side just enough to start nibbling on it.
"You'll choke if you eat that lying down," Hob warns.
Dream begrudgingly pushes himself up, collapsing against the back of the couch, and goes back to nibbling on his apple slice.
"So," Hob continues, awkwardly, when Dream doesn't say anything else, "sex life not going so well, then?"
Dream glares at him, though it's not very intimidating considering the apple halfway into his mouth. "Too well, by most standards," he finally sniffs, and eats the rest of the slice.
"Oh, yeah?" Dream having sex is another thing Hob doesn't really like to think about. Why'd he bring that up again?
"Indeed. I have suitors falling over each other to bed me," Dream says.
Do all classic literature students talk the way Dream does? Hob doesn't know. It's been two years that they've lived together and he's still yet to definitively figure out if it's an affectation or just the way Dream is. He's leaning towards the latter.
Unfortunately, he can believe Dream's statement. Dream is a snitty little prick most of the time, but he's also unbearably beautiful.
"So what's the problem, then?" he asks.
"I don't want them to bed me," Dream says.
Hob's not following. "Say no, then?"
Dream rolls his eyes. "I don't want them to bed me, I want them to want me." His voice loses some of its determination halfway through the sentence, and he looks away.
Ouch. "Sounds like they do want you?"
Dream snorts. "Only so long as it suits them. Only so long as I fit their parameters. Today I spoke to Cori--"
Ah, yes, Cori, Dream's most recent ex-boyfriend. Dream's had a lot of ex-boyfriends, but Cori really tops the list, and not in a good way.
Now that Hob thinks about it, all of Dream's relationships kind of go the same way. Dream comes home after the first date bouncing off the walls with stars in his eyes insisting this person's the one, and within two months the thing's somehow torpedoed into the Underworld and Hob's scraping Dream up off the bathroom floor.
He's starting to see where the initial line of questioning might have come from.
"--and he, at last, was straightforward with me when no one else has bothered to be all this time. I demanded to know, truthfully, why he ended things, and he told me that I 'care too much, but won't put out'--"
Hob winces.
"--which does not make sense, as we had sex frequently? I do not know what else I am meant to be 'putting' and where. I said as much, and he laughed, and said--" he imitates Cori's voice with a surprisingly passable American accent-- "'It only counts if you at least pretend you want to be there, doll. Next time try initiating occasionally.' He left before I could question him further."
Hob doesn't like the picture this is painting. And Dream is looking at him beseechingly, like Hob might be able to explain the bizarre encounter. "So... now you're trying to figure out if your understanding of sex is wrong or something?"
"I felt that, as a neutral observer to the situation, you would be appropriate to survey," Dream says.
(Neutral is a stretch, Hob thinks.)
"So I ask you, Hob Gadling, as a man demonstrably unbothered by 'hookup culture'--"
"Are you calling me a slut?"
"--what do you think is the correct amount that one should care about sex? Because I--" he breaks off, twisting his fingers in his hair, suddenly anxious-- "I do not know what I am doing wrong."
Hob moves to sit beside him, lays a hand lightly on his arm. He's about to say, you're not doing anything wrong, except... that may not precisely be true. At least in terms of how Dream is actually handling it with his partners.
"How much do you care about sex?" he asks.
"Not as much as I am supposed to, evidently," Dream says. Hob just waits for him to elaborate. "Not very much. I prefer not to think about it." He looks at Hob, weary. "Now you will tell me that this is abnormal."
"I don't know what's 'normal'," Hob says. "But it does sound different from how Cori felt about it."
"I suppose," Dream says, sadly.
Hob doesn't particularly like where the intersection of 'I don't care about sex' and 'we had sex all the time' lands him. "If you don't care that much, why keep doing it?"
"It is what is done, is it not?" says Dream. "Besides. I do not mind so much. But even when I do participate, it is still not good enough. Or so it seems."
It's because they're picking up on the fact that you're not really enjoying it, Hob thinks. No one wants a partner who's not engaging. Least not anyone decent. But not saying anything and then just dipping out suddenly is kind of a dickish move, in his opinion.
"Do you want to participate?" he asks.
This seems to give Dream pause. "Mostly I would prefer to do other things. Like. Dates. Only that does not seem much appreciated either." He twists his hands together. "Perhaps Cori is right. I. Care too much."
"No." Hob takes Dream's hands and untwists them. "Cori's a dickhead. You just need to find someone who's on the same page as you, that's all."
"But it seems that book is rather empty," Dream says. He hasn't taken his hands back from Hob.
"Well, was there anyone that you did like having sex with? Or has it always just been--" he can't help but cringe-- "you just putting up with it because you thought you were supposed to?"
"Calliope," Dream says instantly, and Hob lets out a relieved breath. At least it's not all bad. "Because, no matter that it ended poorly... I felt that she truly liked me. And not. Just sex."
"Okay, see?" he says. "You just have to find someone like that."
It... hurts, to try to push Dream into someone else's path. But Hob's long accepted that Dream doesn't feel that way about him. Dream rarely seems hesitant about trying to date anyone he is interested in. Surely if he felt that way about Hob, he would have made it clear by now.
"Someone," Dream echoes, looking down at their joined hands.
"Just because what you want isn't common doesn't mean it's not out there," Hob says, trying to be encouraging. "And hey, if you know now, you can avoid the whole 'not on the same page' rigamarole, hm?"
"Yes," Dream says. "I suppose so." Finally he takes back his hands, instead taking another apple slice from the plate Hob's left on the coffee table and chewing on it slowly.
I would love you right, Hob thinks, unwanted, unbidden. It's not a productive thought, and it's a painful one, too.
"Perhaps I will take a break," Dream decides, though doesn't sound entirely happy about it.
"Could be good," Hob says. "Get your head on right."
"Yes," Dream agrees. "This has been. Illuminating. I thank you for your counsel. I suppose I will have to also thank Cori, 'dickhead' though he may be."
And with that he retreats to his room, still seeming a little off-kilter. And Hob can't help but feel like he's gone wrong somewhere, said something wrong, though he doesn't know where, or what.
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springseasonie · 10 months
Text
Auralism Pt. 2 | PJS (M)
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Voice actor Jisung x fem reader
Part 1. Part 3.
Summary: just another night of your nightly routine except you've become a little more delusional than before.
Warnings: sexual content, auralism (voice kink), masturbation, guided masturbation, praising, degrading, parasocalism (it's bad for you)
Word count: 1,2k
A/N: I'm very glad all of you liked the first one so much. I had no idea people liked the thought of erotic voice actor Jisung as much as I did but I'm glad y'all all also see the vison lmao. Feed back is loved an appreciated 🩷🩷
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"Hi baby."
"Jesus," you sighed breathlessly. Another night, you're laying in your bed on your back staring up at your ceiling. It's almost embarrassing how much you keep coming back to this specific audio. It's the first one you ever heard, but nothing will ever compare to it. "Stress relief" is what it's called, and it's exactly that. You only listen to it on your toughest days, and you're bound to have some tough days working a minimum wage job.
"For this audio, please calm your body down. Take a deep breath, okay? Close your eyes and feel the space around you."
You did just that, closing your eyes and sinking into your bed as you calmed your body down. At that moment you started to feel all the aches and pains from your day settle in.
"Try to forget about your day and just be present with me. I'm the only thing in your mind right now. I'm the only person you can hear. Focus on what I'm saying to you. You're gonna be a good girl and follow my directions like always aren't you?"
"Yeah, I'm gonna be a good girl," you mumbled quietly to yourself. You'd crawl in a hole and die if anyone had to bear witness to this exact moment. You're in a room by yourself responding to a man who's only making audio porn to pay his bills. But it's not your fault no one can live up to the expectations of his voice alone.
"Today, I just want you to relax. I want you to pull your clothes off for me. You can pause while you do so, I'll wait for you."
You paused it, taking everything off your body till you were on your bed completely bare. You quickly started it up, sighing when hearing his voice again.
"Now I need your undivided attention okay? Rile yourself for me. Run your hands all over your pretty body. Press your fingertips into your skin and feel yourself. Run your hands over your nipples. Pinch, squeeze them. Aren't they sensitive?"
That they were indeed. And so was your cunt. If there was a thing you needed to fuck more than right now it would be him despite not knowing what he looked like. You need that voice in your ear telling you that you touched him so well, that you made him feel good. It was going to drive you insane for the rest of your life probably. You pinched your nipples, hissing at the sting on the sensitive peaks. You did this every single time, listening to every word he said and it never got old.
"Move your hand to your mouth. Suck on those fingers for me. Yeah, just like that. You look so good, beautiful."
You put your fingers in your mouth, swirling your tongue over the digits coating them in your saliva. You were so turned on at the point you would probably burst.
"Take your fingers and put them between your legs. Rub your clit for me. Get it nice and wet. I bet that feels real good. Don't you wish it was me touching you? I bet you do."
You rubbed your clit slowly in a circular motion, deep breaths slowly quickening. Your legs spread wider as your other hand squeezed your breast, the ecstatic feeling spreading all over your body.
"Keep touching yourself for me. You're such a good girl you know that? Pretty, beautiful, good girl."
You kept going, soft moans now falling from your lips. All that was in your head was him, his voice. What else were you supposed to think about? Your brain had gone numb the moment you heard him say baby.
"Now I want you to finger yourself for me. I want you to stuff that pretty pussy with your fingers."
You did as he said, eyes rolling back at the stretch You've been aching to feel all day. It's been fucking with you all day, wanting to hear his voice even just for a second. You were addicted.
"Does my voice turn you on?" He chuckled softly, making your brain turn to mush like always. "Does my voice make your pretty pussy wet?"
"Yes, yes it does," you sighed as you fingered yourself. The sounds coming from your body were shameful. Panting and whimpering filled the room, your body getting hotter and hotter as your sheets stuck to your legs.
"Keep going. God, I wish I could see you right now. All cute and wet for me, legs spread wide. You're such a little slut for touching yourself to my voice, you know that? My little slut."
You nodded, a small smile tugging on your lips as his deep sultry voice landed on your ears. You wish you weren't so crazy and delusional but when he talks to you like that you turn to mush all over again. Your fingers grew in pace, palm of your hand also stimulating your swollen clit.
"You wanna cum pretty girl?"
"Yes, yes I do." You were whining, the sounds growing in pitch and volume the more you moved your hand. "F-fuck, oh my god.."
"You can cum. Cum as hard as you want, but don't you dare stop."
You kept going, fingering yourself harder and harder. The moment you curled your fingers inside of you, you came hard, vision turning blurry and mind going fuzzy. You were already so sensitive, but you were a good girl so you didn't stop. You wouldn't dare stop.
"I want you to cum for me again. I love it when you cum for me. I wish I could see it. I wish I could feel it. Feel that tight pussy around my cock squeezing me tight. I know you want that too. I know you want my big cock to stretch you good."
Your moans bounced off the walls, back arching off the bed as you kept thrusting your fingers. It was too much, but it felt so good. Too good. Your cunt was squeezing your fingers once again, wet squelches coming from between your legs.
"If I had you, I'd fuck you so good you wouldn't remember your name. You'd love that wouldn't you?"
"Yes, fuck yes.." You were gasping for air, eyebrows scrunched together right as you stared down at your hand, watching your fingers go in and out of you.
"But for now, I just need you to cum in your perfect, soft hands. Make a bigger mess for me. You can do it."
"J-Jisung, shit.." You came, and you said his name. You've never done that before. Maybe you're a little in too deep, but Jesus, there is no one that could make you see stars the way you did just now. There's no one who can make you shake by just talking the way you did just now.
"Do you feel better? Are you still stressed because if you are, I guess I didn't do my job. But when have I ever failed, hm? Now clean yourself up and get some rest for the next day, or the rest of your day. Bye beautiful."
The audio finished, leaving you heaving on top of your covers. Usually, you would just get up and clean up, but you felt different now. You moaned his name out loud like a crazy person. You were definitely in a little too deep. Maybe you needed to take a break from your nightly routine.
Just as you were about to close the app on your phone another notification popped up.
"surprise :)"
And just like that your night got a whole lot more interesting.
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shut-up-danny-kun · 1 month
Text
I've read hundreds of Star Trek TOS fics by now and it never ceases to amuse me how many different ways there are to fuck up Spock's characterization...now hold on just a minute - this post has a more interesting point than “fanfic writers stupid”, I promise you.
Every time, it's a spin on the massacre wheel. It's kind of amazing. Will he be overly emotional to the point where he's not himself anymore? Will he be so cold it's unpleasant and kind of hard to understand how he's lived to this point? Will he be extremely horny for no good reason? Will he speak in a way that sounds complety wrong?
I chuckle and shake my head. Of course, I KNOW what Spock is like, and MY interpretation of him is the most perfect and correct one. Obviously. He's just a very nuanced character, formed by many people in an unconventional way, with traits that seem to contradict each other at first but ultimately form a rich and unique character that so many people fell in love with specifically because he's so complicated...
Or...is he?
Let's entertain the idea that there isn't one correct interpretation of Spock, that all of these messy bits of characterization are not part of a bigger picture, but...just what they are: a product of many people with starkly different visions, working on a show that refuses to properly develop its characters. What then? Well, then Spock is a Rorschach test. Each viewer connects the random dots in their own way, and ignores the ones they don't like.
Let's use an example: me! In my interpretation of Spock (the most correct one, of course) he is, first of all, gay and on the asexual spectrum, reserved, largely uninterested in casual flirting or sex. When he is interested in the aforementioned things, he tends to be quite ashamed of it.
Makes sense, right? I can show you plenty of evidence for why that could be true. However, in the beginning of the first bloody season, Uhura sings a song about how Spock is actually kind of a heartthrob who likes to drive women insane with how hot he is, and Spock smiles. He smiles at her, as if agreeing and being very amused by all this! This interaction goes against pretty much everything I think about Spock. So what do I do? I explain it away in the most bizzare fucking way possible. See, Uhura and Spock are friends (there is no evidence for this), and Uhura knows everything I've just told you about him (through telepathy I guess? Not like he'd ever tell her!) and she's just trolling him (why would she do that? That is NOTHING like Uhura!). I need to do some Olympics-level mental gymnastics here, the opposite of Occam's razor.
“But Danny,” I hear you say, “it's just the start of the show! They hadn't figured out his character yet!”
To which I say: you can say that about anything! You can blame it all on a bad writer for that episode, and ignore virtually any scene that doesn't jive with your headcanons. It's there, and I can't ignore it.
So...how am I different from the people that want Spock to be thar heartthrob Uhura is singing about? That evidence is as much a part of canon as my favorite lines. Well, I'm not any different, that's the thing. And all those writers I complained about also have a point.
It's kind of a nihilistic take, I know, but maybe the reason Spock is such a cultural icon is because he is...whatever you want him to be: just concrete enough to spur on your imagination, yet vague and contradictory enough to let your brain fill in the gaps.
Don't get me wrong: I absolutely do not believe in this. In my mind, it just so happens that I'm one of the, like, 5 people ever who truly understood Spock (and one of them is Jim Kirk himself). But I still think it's something worth thinking about next time you're mad at a fic.
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20-th-centurygirl · 1 year
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watching you watching me
jude bellingham x fem!reader
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warnings: smut
a/n: written for my beloved @judeswhore , based on this ask by @judethluvr on her account. this idea has me dizzy and if i could live this life then i would happily become a gym rat x
this also ended up becoming way longer than i planned but yolo 🤭
masterlist
Dating an athlete came with numerous perks, and jude's figure was one of them. Being with jude had pushed you to become a self proclaimed gym rat but you'd never actually worked out with him. But in this moment you were questioning why.
You couldn't tear your eyes away from Jude, the way his skin was glistening with a thin layer of sweat, his biceps and the muscles in his thighs flexing in a way that made you dizzy. The thin, white top he was wearing was sticking to his skin and you could faintly see his abs through it, and his stupidly tiny shorts that displayed both his thighs and cock perfectly were making you feral. You couldn't focus, the sit ups you were doing had been long forgotten as the dirty thoughts running through your head took full control.
He'd noticed your staring out of the corner of his eye, a cocky grin plastered on his face. He turned to face you as he slowly lifted his shirt over his head and flinging it across the room. Without breaking eye contact with you he grabbed a bottle of water, taking a large gulp before pouring some on his head. Your jaw nearly hit the floor as you watched the water drip down his chest. "You're catching flies baby" he spoke, pulling you out of your trance.
You closed your mouth as you tried to shift your focus back onto the task you'd started but you just couldn't. The way his biceps moved everytime he curled a weight was driving you absolutely insane and you couldn't stop thinking about his muscles flexing like that by your head as he was ontop of you. "What's going on in that pretty little head of yours angel?" He questioned, moving to stand above you. The way he was towering over you somehow had your underwear even more soaked than it originally was.
He reached down with his hand out to help you stand as he guided you over to the bench on the other side of the room. He sat you down on his lap, both of you facing the large mirror opposite. He maintained eye contact with you through the mirror, his gaze burning holes into you. "I asked you a question" He said a little louder, squeezing your thigh gently. "I was thinking about how good your thighs looked, the way your arms looked, your abs with the water dripping down them, your hands, the way your fingers curled around the weights" you mumbled, your face flushing as jude still stared into your eyes, his cocky smirk growing impossibly larger.
"That all? Or did you have any other ideas?" His eyebrow raised. "I um, I was thinking about how your fingers would look and how good they'd feel in ms, how your thighs would feel if I was riding them and how good your arms would look by the side of my head" you whispered, your face flushing impossibly redder. Judes hand began to trace shapes on your bare thigh, nudging closer to where you so desperately wanted him. "Oh yeah?" He whispered into your ear making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. His hand travelled up to the waistband of your shorts, dipping in to rub small delicate circles on your clit over your underwear. "Yeah. Need you so bad jude" you whined. "I know, I can feel it" He teased and you pulled a face at him in the mirror. "Don't get all bratty with me sweetheart, I'm more than happy to just leave you here and carry on" His voice and gaze more stern as he halted his hands actions. "No please". The grin returned, the knowledge that he had complete control and could get you so worked up satisfying him immensely.
He slipped his middle finger into your underwear, groaning at how wet you were. "Fuck, you're so wet and I've not even touched you". You mewled in response as he continued circling your clit at an agonisingly slow pace. "Jude" you whined, his pace borderline torture. "What do you need baby?" "Need you to finger me. Please jude" you couldn't decide if you were more embarrassed or turned on but you went with the latter. "Anything you want angel. Take these off for me" he gestured to your shorts and underwear and for the third time your face went bright red.
You lifted your hips up so jude could pull them both down, leaving them pooling at your ankles. "You can keep this on, it still shows what I wanna see" He gestured to your small sports bra that admittedly covered very little. You sat in the middle of his spread legs with your own still clamped shut. You weren't sure why you felt so embarrassed, you and jude had seen eachother naked more times than you could count, but this was different and you felt alot more vulnerable.
Jude picked up on your hesitance "if you don't wanna you don't have to, we can do something else" He whispered, placing a featherlight kiss to the shell of your ear. "No it's okay, it's just different" you shot him a reassuring smile in the mirror and he leaned down to place several delicate kisses on your neck as he gently nudged your legs apart. He began sucking on your neck, occasionally biting before smoothing over the spot with his tongue.
His fingers flicked your clit a few times before he effortlessly slid his middle inside you. He swiftly added a second, curling them deep inside you. Your head lolled back against judes shoulder as you let out a loud moan of his name. He gripped your chin, lifting your head up "uh uh, watch yourself in the mirror baby. Watch yourself come undone on my fingers" you bit your lip, the eye contact he was strongly keeping was making you dizzy. His thumb rubbed at your clit as his grip on your chin stayed strong. "Fuck jude. Feels so good". You couldn't help but let your eyes flutter shut but they flew open when jude halted his actions. "What did I say? Keep your eyes on me or I stop" He grunted. " 'm sorry just keep going please" jude carried on, hitting the spots deep inside you that had your toes curling. You gripped his thigh "fuck jude 'm so close. don't stop please" you whined, a string of breathy moans tumbling from your lips. Jude went faster "you look so pretty right now, cum on my fingers baby, let go for me" your head tipped back and jude allowed it, his only goal now to make you feel good. He whispered string of praises in your ear, that combined with the way he was driving his fingers deep inside you and his now hard cock pressing against your back sent you into a frenzy and you came unexpectedly all over his hand, practically screaming judes name.
You stayed in that position, your eyes closed, chest heaving as you rested against him. Jude gently removed his fingers and brought them up to your mouth for you to suck on them. You took them in your mouth straight away, swirling your tongue around them gaining a moan from jude. "Fuck. Want you to do that around my cock". You smiled around his fingers, moving to straddle him. "No, I'd rather ride you". Jude bit his lip as you pulled down his shorts and boxers before pulling off your sports bra so you were both fully naked.
You sat yourself down on him, both of you gasping in unison. "Fuck, look at you in the mirror" Jude moaned out, the sight of you clinging onto him driving him insane. You rested your head in the crook of his neck, still sensitive from your last orgasm. His hands rested on your hips, gently moving you at a rhythm that he liked as you pressed your lips to his neck. "Jude fuck. Feels so good" you whimpered and jude groaned in response, bucking his hips up into you. Your nails clawing at his back and you clenching around him had jude seeing stars. "Fuck baby, 'm gonna cum" he mumbled directly into your ear and you could only moan in response, feeling your own orgasm approaching. Jude moved one of his hands down to rub your clit in an attempt to get you there faster. You let out a loud whimper of his name followed by a string of curses as you came for the second time, triggering judes orgasm as he bucked his hips up a few times before letting go inside you. His grip on your hips didn't let up, his hands holding you close to him as he peppered your hair with kisses.
"That's one way to workout" jude teased as he tickled your sides, you reaching up to flick the side of his head in retaliation. "Only joking, I find it hot when you workout too baby, especially in those shorts" He mumbled. "It's just those slutty shorts, not sure what you're expecting from me". Jude huffed out a small laugh "maybe I put them on just for you". You said nothing, instead nuzzling yourself further into jude, not wanting the closeness to end, ever.
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achillesuwu · 1 year
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I just think it would be HILARIOUS if Merlin dates someone for a loooooong time some centuries after Arthur's death and that someone is immortal.
Idk, just the idea of merlin having that ex vampire dude he dated for 276 years or something and they parted in good term. They are still good friends and it drives Arthur INSANE
More Merlin actually living for 1500+ years and meeting new people because you can NOT convince me that if someone live for more 1500 years in a world where there are others long-living beings they will not form bond that defy every social expectation
like (-still not dating merthur -)
Arthur : you dated him for nearly THREE centuries!?
Merlin : well, yeah?
Arthur : and you want to make me believe that you two cuddling on the couch was totally platonic!?!?
Merlin, 1500+ yo and very much know how to communicate with his friends and ex-partner: yeah??
Arthur I just noticed that I wanted to be the one sleeping on you on the couch and I don't know what to do with those feelings pendragon : YOU PLAYED WITH HIS HAIR AND KISSED HIS FOREHEAD
Merlin : WE BROKE UP FOUR HUNDRED YEARS AGO ARTHUR
Merlin that got married multiple times but is at the same time kind of married to Freya.
Merlin that blows Arthur mind because he has an orgy with his 5 immortal Friends-with-benefits and they is completely chill about it.
Arthur just can NOT understand how this isn't cheating.
Just, Arthur (freshly immortal btw) being incapable of understanding Merlin's centuries long relationships with other immortals.
Arthur being a tiny bit insecure because how the fuck can he try to win Merlin's heart when he is competing against a 1500 yo marriage, a 700 relationship that for him doesn't look platonic at ALL, 5 immortal "friend with benefits" and Gods know who else when he was "only" merlin's best friend for 10 years 1500 years ago :((((
Meanwhile, everybody else that know that now that Arthur came back there is no way that anything happen with anyone else: aaaaawwww, merlin!!! tell us everything!!!! And when is the wedding??? You better not elope like you did with Catheline. It was two hundreds years ago!!!! HE DIDIN'T SAY THAT NOTHING HAPPENED!!! NOTHING HAPPENED.
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