Tumgik
#let's pretend he's fictional
wengenn · 4 months
Text
Depuis hier j'ai une obsession naissante pour les vidéos/chansons de feldup et je suis en train de développer un crush MONUMENTAL comme quoi mon coeur restera jamais vide bien longtemps.
C'est fou comment j'ai l'impression que la vie m'aide de manière inattendue à chaque fois que je vais mal pour combler mon manque et me faire oublier mes problèmes. La dernière fois c'était avec Good Omens, encore avant avec les Beatles et encore encore avant Sherlock BBC.
Ma vie entière se résume à obsess over un truc bien spécifique pendant 1 semaine à 3 mois et après passer à autre chose comme si rien ne s'était passé. Je sais pas si c'est normal, si c'est un symptôme de quelque chose ou même si c'est bon ou mauvais pour la santé, mais j'aime bien. Ça me donne une petite zone de confort, une bulle où je peux me réfugier pendant un temps et ça me rend heureux et c'est cool.
J'ai beaucoup trop dit de trucs. Je suis pas là pour le faire. Mais bref. J'aime tellement internet :')
0 notes
jasontoddenthusiastt · 7 months
Text
Observing peoples reactions to morally gray or black actions committed by different characters is so funny. Throughout all of G. War the character tags were chock-full of people unironically enraged claiming “Bruce isn’t even capable of doing something bad like that.” about an action that is pretty well in line with his character journey thus far, meanwhile there are still new posts that gain traction that open with lines like “I know Jason has committed his fair share of sins/crimes but” like bro when. In 2010?
Also. The whole premise of the b*tfamily™ that you so love is built on the load bearing wall being that they are a crime family. Hell, do people just collectively forget the part where Bruce manufactures and freely uses weapons with his own furry brand logo plastered all over them, causing all sorts of 'explosions and more!' property damage all over the streets of Gotham? Pretty sure that makes him a terrorist but you people don't feel the need to go around reminding fandom of that every five minutes.
#as someone who loves post crisis Jason more than the average person who considers themselves a Jason fan:#how much longer are we going to pretend that’s still where we are today#to all the people who get so fucking worked up anytime Jason does something other than sit there and look pretty#what exactly do you want to see him do in comics anyway? vacuum his apartment?#like please let him fuck shit up for people whose plans were messed up anyway please let him have opinions and act on them#kelseethe#these people assume fans like Jason *despite* all his ‘wrongdoings'#when we repeatedly post about why Jason fucking with people was epic and cool and justified#while they sit there being upset that their traumatized problematic fav with a god complex#acts like a traumatized problematic bitch with a god complex lol#‘do Jason fans even know why they like his character’ seems like someone is in need of some introspection#disclaimer: l'm not a bruce anti. you know that liking a problematic character doesn't mean wanting to erase#every atrocity he committed and putting him through a redemption arc#I just have low tolerance for the utter ignorance of some of his fans lol#and that of his writers who market him as the agreeable voice of reason#while simultaneously portraying him as an abusive father + war criminal lol#the way I used the terms ‘morally gray/black’ here is subjective.#personally I don’t consider killing drug dealers/kingpins in a fictional universe morally gray because I’m not a fucking narc lol#but abusing your son for over a decade then literally breaking his brain is undeniably morally black in & out of universe
21 notes · View notes
pinkmirth · 1 year
Text
y’all I’m sorry, but I feel like eren would be a criminal in a modern universe 😭 not a full blown murderer or anything, just petty crimes here and there because he don’t got common sense! he’s probably set something on fire or beat someone’s ass in a bar before
58 notes · View notes
unladielike · 11 days
Text
Tumblr media
After watching Act II of NiER: Reincarnation, I can't stop thinking of an AU where instead of Yuzuki and Hina, it's Vivian and @spiritpyro's Hayate who were both transported from their universes (Chiba, Japan) to the Cage. Of course, Vivian would be tasked with fixing the sun while Hayate would be tasked with fixing the moon, but due to the fact their timeline follows the private verse (aka Vivian losing her memories before becoming neighbours with Hayate) and their revolving theme is 'not quite lovers, yet not quite friends', I feel like the companions assigned to them would be different while the characters unlocked would still remain the same (meaning they will all get to witness Yudil, Sarafa, Saryu, Marie, Priyet, and Yurie's memories).
Whereas Hina had Papa as her guide, I headcanon Vivian's companion would be called 'Gent' and he'll have this particular design, which I badly edited to have a dapper feel to it. As her guide, he would take on the role of what an ideal boyfriend and perfect gentleman should be like (and because Carrier had canonically once ranted about his wife being a nag/having elderly parents that need care, I can see Gent going as far as to claim he works as a rental boyfriend on the side), so I can see him calling her 'darling' and 'Ms. Vivian'. I also have this idea he'll hold onto Jude (the crocheted butterfly she always carries with her) for Vivian every time she needs to enter a Dark Scarecrow, which are these black statues in NiER: Reincarnation that blocks the player's path and contains memories of characters' backstories. Furthermore, Gent would have taken her hand with one of his weird black arms and lifted it to where his mouth should be after he first introduces himself to Vivian, but considering he looks like a ghostly apparition, she finds it hard to really take him or his suave remarks all that seriously most of the time.
As for Hayate, his companion wouldn't be Mama/Babe the same it way had been with Yuzuki, but a pink one called 'Lady' that I headcanon would have this appearance. As his guide, she's supposed to take on the role of what a kind, caring girlfriend should be like and similarly to Gent, would mention to Hayate she works as a rental girlfriend on the side. While Gent uses 'darling' with Vivian, however, Lady prefers 'honey' as her go to term of endearment for Hayate. She'll also offer him massages/pats on the head and remind him to not push himself too much and that it's fine to take breaks if he's tired from traversing the Cage.
Anyways, in true Yoko Taro fashion, Vivian would end up seeing a memory of her huge falling out with Hayate that led to her eventual suicide attempt at some point, which would understandably break her all over again... yet thanks to Gent calming her down/preventing her from ripping apart Jude, she would somehow have enough strength to keep going. Then somewhere along the way, it's later revealed from her point of view that Hayate one day started dating someone else (that's definitely not Hideaki), and to make matters worse, this person was a scumbag. Not only did they secretly record them having sex without his permission just to taunt her and rub further salt in her wound, they also hurled ableist slurs at Vivian whenever Hayate wasn't around, to the point where months later, she ended up snapping and killing them instead of asking Hayate to just dump them.
And Hayate, upon not knowing this, would angrily lash out at Vivian, which resulted in him accidentally killing her before learning what had truly happened... yet because he still cared about her, knowing he was responsible for her death would cause him great anguish at the same time. Regardless, it would seem she killed his lover out of jealousy from his point of view, which is meant to make the player sympathize more with Hayate if they're playing as him and not Vivian. Anyways, they both became isekai-ed to the Cage afterwards (or in Vivian's case, reincarnated within the Cage), where they were each promised a wish by Gent/Lady if they ended up acquiring the necessary Fragments to fix the broken Sun and Moon.
Honestly, though, I feel like Vivian would wish she had never fallen in love with Hayate due to all the suffering he caused her while Hayate would wish he had never been an asshole to her; however, compared to Vivian, who would be angry enough at him to throw hands and yell at him that he pretty much ruined her life, I feel like Hayate would just want to talk/de-escalate things.
...In fact, he'd pretty much be the only one who would actually not want to to kill Vivian to fulfill his wish, so the options would be A) Vivian should get her revenge, B) Vivian and Hayate shouldn't fight, or C) Vivian and Hayate should talk things out (which can only be unlocked after completing one of the prior endings). Unlike with Yuzuki and Hina, though, there does exist a reality where they're happy together, so instead of staying in the Cage, I could see them having an actual heart to heart during Ending B and wish that in another life, they could have stayed true to themselves back then... causing them to be transported to another reality, where they became girlfriend/boyfriend.
Meanwhile, in Ending C, Vivian would acknowledge she's still in love with Hayate but would no longer desire a romantic relationship with him due to trauma... and since wishing for a different reality would be the same as running away from the sins they committed, they decide to live out the rest of their lives in the Cage together. Honestly, I wanna say that since Hayate is immortal, the only reason Vivian would be able to kill him in Ending A is because she has the power of the Sol Fragments on her side.
But anyways, I definitely think one of Vivian's stories would revolve around her ex-girlfriend, Esmé, but I'll never add a proper NiER: Reincarnation AU to her verses page (despite having self-indulgently designed Companions for her and Hayate) because I doubt people have actually played the gacha let alone heard of it (especially after it was announced the game will be ending it's service) and as far as I could tell, nobody on tumblr roleplays characters from NiER: Reincarnation... so it shall forever remain a brainrot AU of mine.
4 notes · View notes
pizzazz-party · 1 year
Text
trying to formulate my opinions on The Spot by holding my sister as a captive audience while i loudly rant around her apartment
#it is a cold fucking day in hell when i let a middleaged white man take credit for a black teenager’s accomplishments and choices.#i don’t care if he’s fictional#i can’t believe some of you are eating what he’s saying. if we’re rejecting miguel o’haras idea of destiny then why are we accepting#this monologue from a dumbass who can’t accept that he’s the way that he is because of his own fucking choices#you CHOSE to work for those labs YOU CHOSE not to evacuate sooner#he couldn’t have predicted what happened next. but don’t pretend you didn’t choose this#anyone can be spiderman but miles had to CHOOSE this#your fake ass had nothing to do with his leap of faith in the first movie…#miles is made of everyone he has ever loved and respected#fuck this destiny nonsense. the spot sees Miles spark and CHOOSES to mold himself into its shadow in a desperate bid#to feel like his miserable life has any meaning#he’s a threat he’s a narrative foil he’s got the insane visuals to mirror miles. but he is NOT destiny incarnate.#the next movie is going to be about Miles rejecting The Spot as much as he rejects O’haras rules#he said it himself he’s sick of other people telling him what his story’s supposed to be about#damn what is it about writing in the tags that makes things more cohesive.#across the spiderverse spoilers#atsv spoilers#spiderverse spoilers#pizzazz meta#edit: for the record i think The Spot is a great villain and i do appreciate what he does for the narrative#but i dont believe him like i believe in miles
27 notes · View notes
darabeatha · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
ANYWAYS- I don't have much energy in general but I just wanted to drop by and say I had a thought in regards to the rather unique shape of the scar on his forehead in his fate design (which is a reference to the oftentimes more commonly known version of his story that recounts the motif of his death being by dying from his people throwing rocks at him which is the version f.ate seems to have followed) that it's not just there to represent this version of the story but could also be a reference to an iconographic pre-Hispanic attribute from Tezcatlipoca itself that is called the Ezpitzal, which is this:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
(though in this piece, Tezca is shown under the guise of Tepeyollotl, it's still tezca) The Ezpitzal is often shown as a stream of blood that emanates from Tezcatlipoca's head. Professor Batalla pointed out that this term also relates to the Nahuatl concept of expressing anger
'it’s worth remembering that Tezcatlipoca was a god notorious for sowing discord and deceit'
So I just thought of how fitting it would be for Montezuma to have this and how similar it looks to his scar (or well, how fitting it would be to a fictional stylized version of course) as Moctezuma's name is basically a compound of the noun 'lord' and the verb that means 'to frown in anger' which altogether gets interpreted as 'he who frowns like a lord' or 'he who is angry in a noble manner' and well, how this ties back to the Ezpitzal as a symbol that expresses anger
NOW IT COULD just be the shape of his scar and there's no deep meaning behind it but I still think it would be a nice little detail about his design if that was the case (if not then its just me overthinking symbolisms again), not to mention that even after the Spanish conquest took place and how as a consequence, a lot of characteristic traits and symbolisms were lost in regards to images, even then the Ezpitzal was still depicted (though barely there) with these protruding rounded edges
Tumblr media
4 notes · View notes
agoddamn · 1 year
Text
The popular story narrative is "I have so many emotions about [plot] that I WILL NOT STOP WORKING" and as much as I like exhaustion as a whump trope, man.
There's really something about a character learning the bittersweet lesson that vomiting their feelings everywhere won't help (might make things worse!). There's something about a character knowing that the most useful decision isn't the one that'll make them feel good (ie going to sleep on time to be fully capable for the next day's work). There's something about a character making that decision, feeling that's the best way they can help, making that choice even as they know that other people might expect them to be a frantic mess moving nonstop and will judge them for not being a frantic mess moving nonstop.
Maybe this is an autism brain thing? It's just such a compelling struggle to me, "I truly think [x] is the best way to help but everyone will think I'm an unfeeling alien if I don't perform [y]." Making the choice to sacrifice your social standing, personal relationships because you truly do care that much. That hits me so much harder than, "I worked for four days without sleeping and produced garbage quality research and slowed everyone else down for having to look after me" drama. Right in the balls.
Anyway, more fiction should involve cocaine when the writer wants to pull some "character worked for days without sleep" shenanigans.
15 notes · View notes
dylanconrique · 2 years
Text
it's been far too long since i last had a parking garage scene.
25 notes · View notes
phyllosilicate-s · 2 years
Text
Hear me out: firefighter!Eddie
16 notes · View notes
demadogs · 2 years
Text
i never post tiktoks anymore and i have a big following bc i made videos of my cats like talking to each other with the text to speech thing and i hyped up that id be home for summer to post but i havent been creative so ive barely made any and i feel guilty like im depriving 600k people of wholesome cat content but i cant get myself to make one
8 notes · View notes
bobtheacorn · 1 year
Note
If anon is throwing rocks at your window in the middle of the night, I am bringing you baked goods of your choice at a decent hour. Actually it rules that you're proship. Keep up the good work (minding your own business, not being a bully, not falling for reactionary nonsense, thinking for yourself, having common sense, and so on and so forth)
Genuinely, THANK U I appreciate that!! I'm doing my best!! I'm just tryin'a write my silly lil fanfics and vibe and everybody else should be allowed to do the same.
Tumblr media
#asked#i'm trying not to be a DOWNER but my god#I keep accidentally getting into fandoms that seem to have a high BS rate??#there's a tiny niche of ppl minding their own business and then a huge swatch of ppl that are like...........#aggressively yelling abt pretend threats to their Pure and Superior Thoughts on Fictional Characters#i don't know how to tell them that Jesus Christ is not gonna kiss them on the forehead for being hate mongering goblins#im just sayin#he would probably be the first to throw a table into the thick of y'all#like i get it u don't like incest that's valid#if u hate it so much why do you keep bringing it up?????????????????#tcest was literally trending on twitter a while ago bc baby antis were hollering abt it and the Algorithm was like U Want?? Here.#and then they took psychic damage abt it#i had to laugh#i guess i'm built different#nothing desensitizes you to stuff you don't want to see quicker than being 10 years old on the brand new interwebs#and googling your favorite digimon bc u want a cool desktop pic#NO search filters NO tags#just u as a kid fighting for ur life in google images sweeping past pages of weird grown up shit with ur eyes the size of dinner plates#let me just wave my cane and rant for a minute!!!!!!!!!! sorry!!!!!!! lmao#i'm just Old and Tired and I think ppl should be thankful for tumblr and ao3 and their fantastic fucking tagging systems and no algorithm#u can literally block things u dont wanna see#also u can just mind ur own business abt it
2 notes · View notes
maxinejacobfriedman · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
0 notes
sammydem0n64 · 1 year
Text
Sometimes ... a character doesn’t need to become some kickass numb angry bastard to be seen as strong... sometimes a lack of bloodshed is strong...
1 note · View note
allurilove · 24 days
Text
Yandere Husband x you
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Rated 18 + — mature short content !
Includes: possessive behavior, manipulation, pregnancy/ baby trapping, cunnilingus, fem reader, p in v sex, dry humping, stalking, he’s a very deceptive man
*Thank you to everyone who enjoyed my last post of yan!husband 😭🩵 This is a continuation off of my last post, and he’s only referred to as “your husband.” his only existence is to be obsessed with the reader, and without you, he ceases to exist. Here is the third part! This is purely fictional writing!*
Synopsis: Your husband is over the moon. He infiltrated your life, and he will make sure you never forget it. His obsession love for you is taken to new heights, a newest edition blessing your family.
You hated being pregnant as much as you hated being lied too. After learning he’s been stalking you, and purposefully feeding you lies about your whole interactions just being “fate,” he finds ways to make you forgive him.
What a fucking creep. Your husband thought as he watched the realtor get too handsy with you. Actually, everyone was trying to put their hands on you. You were carrying his baby, but others would put their hand on your stomach, acting as if it was theirs. He stiffened as the realtor tried to make a lame joke about the master bedroom.
He automatically appeared by your side, removing the realtors hands on your baby bump. He was in a bad mood the whole entire day. When you two go back home, he pulled you to the bedroom. He’s more careful with your body now, and he gently pushed you down onto the bed. He crawled next to you.
His arms wrapped around you possessively, his face digging into your neck, and you hear him whisper sweet things into your skin. He pressed kisses onto your shoulder, his hands wandering around your body before he groped at your chest.
You’ve gained weight, which was natural and just a part of the process. He loved to fondle your thighs, and his hands start to move upwards. Your husband slipped his hand underneath your dress, his hands touching your inner thigh and near your warmth. He was always the big spoon, loving how you feel in his arms.
“Oh dear…” Your husband whispered in delight, his eyes glancing down to see his hardened dick.
Your husband would always be erect around you, his hands revealing your plump ass to him and he gently smacked it. You scoff and push him away. You still haven’t forgotten…. you thought you found a friend, a guy to talk to about your stresses and worries in life. But he was the perpetrator.
“I said I was sorry…” Your husband frowned. “You sure know how to hold a grudge…”
When you shoot him a glare and make it clear you were still upset, he raised his hands in surrender. “Alright… let me make it up to you.”
Your husband pulled your legs apart, and his hands automatically went for your panties.
You remember a time when he first went down on you. You were in a vulnerable position at the time, as you ran and ran from your stalker, however you couldn’t help feel a bit of happiness. This was a confirmation that you weren’t hallucinating, and all of your friends that didn’t believe you, could suck it. But it also meant you weren’t just delusional, and someone was actually following you. Fatigue settled into your body, and you rested on the wall as you try to catch your breath.
Your husband, who was just a friend at the time, conveniently was walking past. He looked worried, and he feigned innocence when he pretended that he didn’t see a man following you. He walked you back home that night, and he got you so comfortable around him- that his fingers were easily slipping inside you. His tongue lapping up any juices that flowed out of you, and he pressed kisses on your folds.
He was a vessel of safety, and at the time you thought you would be fine for awhile. Completely unaware that your stalker was now sleeping in the same bed as you.
Your husband moaned as his mouth latched onto your cunt, his hands now trailing upwards to feel your stomach. His heart fluttered, and his mind was plagued of ways to keep you by his side forever. Spilling his seed inside you was one thing, and marrying you was another… but he needed something more binding.
He was a bit afraid of hurting the baby, and he always tried different ways of pleasing you than using his dick. He pulled down his pants and he lowered his hips, just enough to be rubbing against your wet core. You feel the soft fabric of his boxers touching your clit, and his lips connect with yours. You can taste yourself on his tongue.
You remember the time when you found out you were pregnant. You were suddenly sick, and your husband was by your side, just mindlessly playing with your tits. He did that often as he read his newspapers, his hand would crawl underneath your shirt, and his excuse was that he just needs something to fondle. That was when you found out he was not who he said he was. That the times he “bumped” into you, was him finding out your schedule, your routine, and months of stalking.
“What are you thinking about, hmm?” Your husband whispered in your ear, one of his hand grabbed onto your ass to help you follow his rhythm. He continues to grind himself onto you, his other hand playing with your hair.
“What will it take for you to forgive me?”
“Will it help if you hit me?” Your husband scoffed as you screamed at him for hours. You cried your heart out, and the person you loved at the time, was the reason for your paranoia. You can still feel his kisses on your neck, the way he pulled your clothes off, and when he bent you over on the dresser, you couldn’t move. His body was smushed right against yours, he humiliated you, made you feel desperate for release, and made your toes curl.
As he fucked you from behind, he forced you to look at yourself in the mirror. The way drool dribbled down your mouth as you let out silent screams, your eyes rolling back as his thrusts were hard, and demanding submission. You despised him, the way he puts his hands on you, and the way he made you cum.
“…You’re crying..?” Your husband was stumped as tears welled up in your eyes and you started to sniffle. “Because of me?”
You’re tired of him trying to make it up to you. If he really wanted too, he would’ve came clean long time ago and go to jail for fucks sake. You feel his eyes zero in on your tears, watching it dribble down to your chin, and out of curiosity he licked them. He kisses your cheeks and he wraps his arms around you again. You feel suffocated having him on top of you, and you wish someone would take pity on you and take you away.
“I’m sorry.”
You’ve heard it countless of times, each meaningless and empty.
Allure: Sorry that this took awhile! I had to redo this a couple of times, and I wasn’t sure what to write really.
2K notes · View notes
chelseeebe · 9 months
Text
seven minutes in heaven.
Tumblr media
a/n: pure self indulgent smut here i really have no other way to describe this lmfao. i wrote this all in about three hours so please excuse any mistakes bc i had to get the idea out while it was still fresh in the mind. don’t get me wrong i love dominant eddie but let’s be real he’s just not, is he? he’s a fumbling little virgin and i love that
18+. smut. alcohol. sex with someone in the room (don’t do this. this is fiction.) eddie is so pathetically down bad for reader and also a virgin! they’re in college rather than hs bc i’m too old to be writing about teenagers here
‎♡‧₊˚
eddie’s insanely nervous when the bottle starts spinning, anticipating the dread of having to get in that tiny closet with well.. literally anyone.
he wasn’t exactly well versed when it came to sexual encounters. he’d barely just kissed a girl for the first time last year and had been successful in avoiding any and all games of this nature. it’s not like he didn’t want to, he just didn’t want to embarrass himself nor disappoint whichever poor soul had to stuff themselves into that closet with him.
it spins and spins until it lands on chrissy and some dude he’d just met tonight. breathing a silent sigh of relief as he now gets a further seven minutes to think up some excuse as to why he couldn’t kiss his match.
his ringed finger circles the top of the glass bottle, clinking against it in some unrecognisable beat. maybe he could run to the bathroom as soon as they came out? at least he’d have to miss another go, be free of the embarrassment a little while longer.
eddie’s eyes glide around the circle, eyeing up the potential matches. there’s robin, who absolutely not interested in him and especially not anyone of his gender. nancy, she’s cute but one hundred percent not his type and he’s sure that the fact both of her exes are sat in the room would mean they could get out of kissing. a few other girls that he’s sure would kiss him but they wouldn’t be thrilled about it. then there’s you. sat with your legs crossed, skirt riding up your supple thighs and a shirt that hung low enough that you shouldn’t have even bothered wearing one.
he only notices that he’s staring when steve makes some lewd comment about the noises coming from the closet. tearing his eyes off of your chest and onto the rowdy man.
oh shit, what if it lands on a guy? at least maybe they could just shuffle off and pretend to make kissy noises, see that’d be easy.
before he’s able to jump up and run off, chrissy and the unnamed guy stumble out of the closet, giggling with their cheeks flushed.
oh god oh god oh god.
‘ya have fun in there?’ steve bellows, clearly intoxicated and obviously way too eager to have his turn. why couldn’t he just be more like him, eddie thinks.
steve spins the bottle again. going round and round and round until it stops, the lipped edge facing you.
please no. please literally anyone other than him.
if he was clueless with the other girls he wouldn’t have a fucking clue what to do with you.
‘oh shiiit,’ steve hisses as he sends the bottle flying again.
it slows down just before him, thinking he’d escaped once again until the glass stops. pointing right at his gormless face. he blinks at the bottle, trying with all his might to send it flying again through some undiscovered telekinetic energy or some shit.
it doesn’t. obviously. because he’s not fucking superman.
‘come on,’ you speak, stood before him with your hand extended. oh fuck. he’s not sure he can even take your hand. it’s far too clammy and he’d expose his super-virgin status.
he groans getting up from the floor, gingerly taking your hand and following you through the corridor to the closet. his heart in his throat the entire time. he thinks he might just throw up. unsure of if it’s from the anticipation or just sheer terror of having to try and kiss you.
with your fucking tiny skirt and your perfect tits pressed against him. there’s no way he won’t pop a fucking boner. oh god, what if-
‘you okay?’ you ask, shuffling into the small space opposite with the tiny flecks of light shining on your smile. he hadn’t even noticed you’d shut the door, too caught up in his own head to realise that this was now and he was going to have to do something before you ran out of there laughing.
‘yeah- yeah,’ nodding frantically as he attempts to collect himself. maybe you didn’t wanna kiss him? you’d make some polite excuse about having a boyfriend or something and then you could stand and make small talk for the excruciatingly long seven minutes.
‘good,’ you mumble before closing the already tiny gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a haste.
eddie’s head is empty. absolutely nothing going on inside. frozen in time as your lips move against his. he should do something. he just doesn’t know what.
‘what? you never kissed a girl before?’ you scoff, pulling away slightly. are you mocking him? or is this flirting? fuck, why don’t they make books for this kinda shit?
‘y-yeah i have..’ he mumbles, arms still limply hung around his sides. if you could see his face right now, he’d be comparable to a ripe beetroot.
‘so kiss me back then?’ you giggle, connecting your lips once again, soft hand coming to caress his warm cheek.
okay, yeah. just.. kiss back.
he does what he thinks is right, eyes fluttering shut as his lips move with yours. this is good, he thinks. it feels right.
your other hand reaches out to grab his wrist, moving his hand to rest on your waist. giggling into his mouth, your breath tasting like alcohol and a hint of mint. it’s sweet, addicting almost as he chases the taste with his mouth.
adrenaline racing through his veins when your hand leaves his wrist and tangles into his hair, fingernails tracing along his sensitive scalp. he has to restrain himself from moaning into your mouth. it’s an entirely new sensation for him, makes his cock twitch in his tight jeans. he can’t stop thinking about how much he wants you to just tug it, pull his head back with your delicate fingers.
your knee slides between his legs, thick thigh nudging the growing bulge in his pants. letting out the most embarrassing noise into your mouth. before he even has time to curse himself for it your tongue slips into his mouth, using the opportunity to push your chest further into his.
deciding now to be brave, his hand shakily meets your shoulder, holding you in that exact position. he could stay here forever, he wouldn’t need anything else in life. ever.
your lips pull back slightly and he whimpers. literally whimpers in response to the sudden lack of attention. feeling your smile grow against his now swollen lips. who the fuck whimpers? if he hadn’t already established his virgin-ness, he definitely had now.
‘is that good, yeah?’ you breathe, the words almost sending him into cardiac arrest. they sound as if they’re dipped in honey coming from your sweet lips.
he nods quickly, unable to form a coherent response without looking like an utter fool. opening his eyes just enough to see you staring up at him through your lashes. if he weren’t leant against the wall, he’s sure he’d collapse into a puddle of goo.
‘what if i do.. this?’ palm sliding down over his neck and heaving chest before stopping at his belt buckle, waiting for a sign to continue.
his adams apple bobs as he swallows and you take it as a compliment and sliding your hand on top of his very obvious boner.
he’s a goner.
grip tightening on your shoulder as his breath stutters. willing himself not to cum in his pants right then and there. he would never ever live that down. not with that meathead harrington who would definitely pull him up on it the second you left.
‘oh yeah?’ you remark, smirking in the darkness at his pathetic stature. slowly moving your fingers as you palm him through his jeans. your hardened nipples brushing against his chest because of fucking course you weren’t wearing a bra.
there’s no way he’s making it out of this cupboard alive.
‘h-holy shit,’ he chokes out, eyelids fluttering as he fights off fainting. his head is fuzzy, sorta like how he felt when he got high and jerked off except so so much better.
‘maybe we could.. continue this later?’ muttering quietly so as to avoid anyone outside hearing.
he’s well aware that you only have at most a minute or so left before someone rips open that door and reveals the pitiful mess he is. the sentence doesn’t register for a few seconds until he realises what you meant.
‘y-yes,’ he finally responds, overly eager, ‘please,’ ashamed at how desperate he sounded. he’s sure that he’d kill someone for just one extra minute in here with you. not entirely sure how he would be able to hold on until later.
you don’t reply with words, mashing your lips together one last time before someone hammers on the door, signalling that his seven minutes in actual heaven were over.
‘get out you horny fucks, i want a turn!’ steve jokes from the other side, making you spring apart before he comes crashing into the room.
you smile at him again, seemingly so innocent when he knows you’re anything but.
the bright light of the hallway makes him blink before you bound off back to whoever’s room you were playing him. leaving him with the worlds most awkward stiffy and absolutely no way to hide it from the prying eyes of the fellow players.
‘god damn munson, are you alright?’ steve laughs at his outwardly flustered appearance. eddie is so fucking grateful that the boy is too invested in getting his turn to pay full attention to the obvious tent in his jeans.
sliding into his spot, discreetly moving one of the cushions to his lap. he doesn’t give a shit about the game, too busy wondering just when later would be.
it goes on and on.
robin and nancy head off to the closet, receiving a few woos from the gaggle of people.
then it lands on argyle and jonathan, the larger man having to drag jonathan into the closet with an excited wiggle of his brows.
steve’s fuming at every turn that isn’t his, throwing his hands into the air when it lands on anyone other than him.
and then the bottle goes spinning again, stopping on you. eddie’s not sure if it’s jealousy that it could land on anybody else or desperate hope that it lands on him again.
it doesn’t, goes flying right past him and ends up stopping right in front of steve who jumps up, absolutely ecstatic that he finally gets to go into that damn closet.
eddie’s eyes meet yours, ducking his head slightly and hoping that the searing envy wasn’t so apparent on his features. you give him a little shrug and that same damning smile before getting off the floor.
‘c’mon then big boy,’ rolling your eyes as steve pulls you into the closet.
eddie’s seething with jealousy and he’s not even sure why. you weren’t his like, this wasn’t an exclusive contract that meant you could only play the game with him. near enough drawing blood as his teeth dig into his bottom lip. it’s the thought of it. of steve and his big hands and his exuding levels of confidence. infuriating him to no end.
‘you good bro?’ jonathan nudges his elbow, completely unaware that he had been glaring at the same stain on the carpet for what must have been minutes.
‘me? yeah.. i’m good,’ standing to grab himself another beer. thank fuck the boner had subsided. at one point he had seriously considered disappearing to the bathroom to relieve himself but a few thoughts of his sixth grade math teacher naked had killed it completely.
he pops the top off with his ring, taking a long hard swig of the beer, counting the seconds until you’d reappear from the hallway. this would be the perfect time to grow some goddamn balls and show you how he felt. he could slide right into the spot next to you, maybe even extend an arm around your shoulder. you know, really hammer it home.
‘it’s been seven minutes,’ he blurts out instead, appearing more as a jealous weirdo than the cool, outgoing guy he so wished to be. stupid. internally cussing himself out.
‘you were in there for eight minutes, dude,’ robin laughs, shoulders shaking at his eagerness. great, now everyone in the room knew he was a possessive, jealous freak.
‘hah.. yeah right,’ shuffling back to his spot with the worst attempt at playing at cool that he’d ever seen. swallowing the gigantic lump in his throat and watching the doorway like a fucking hawk.
‘seven minutes stevie.. that’s it,’ your voice echoes and you finally reappear, pulling at the strap of your shirt, readjusting it to its rightful position on your shoulder.
‘holy shit,’ steve remarks, his stupidly perfect hair all messed up, red cheeks to match. eddie longs to grab his collar and pummel his fist into his face. he doesn’t of course, that’d make him look really normal.
instead he chooses to read the label of the beer bottle rather intently, ignoring the feeling of your eyes boring into him. perhaps later would never arrive and he’d just have to move on with his life.
the party dies down and eventually the game gets abandoned, party goers slinking off home or to the bedrooms or as argyle had, passing out on the couch. now would be the perfect time to scarper off to his dorm, not like anyone would notice he was gone. you certainly wouldn’t. not with steve hanging around your feet like a lost puppy.
when the music cuts out, he knows it’s time to go. later was quite clearly not coming. and neither was he. well, he would. just when he got home.
‘well, i’m going to bed,’ you announce, pushing yourself from the couch, staring directly at him. is that a hint? is this later? god, he doesn’t know.
hesitating just a moment too long as steve interjects first, ‘me too.. you don’t mind if i crash here, do you?’
your eyebrows raise slightly, still staring him down. waiting for a response well, for anything from eddie.
‘i-i’ll take the couch, if that’s okay?’ thinking that maybe your lack of response was also a hint? it’s really not clear and he just wishes that you’d directly tell him what to do.
‘sure.. knock yourself out,’ you shrug, a tinge of disappointment in your voice. so it was a hint. you wanted eddie to volunteer to stay in your room, he gets it now! now that it’s way too late.
‘great! well, i guess we’re roomies,’ steve smirks, gazing over at you. disgustingly smug in the way his hand lingers on the small of your back. that should be him. if only he wasn’t such a bumbling idiot he might’ve been the one leading you up the stairs. fingers sprawled out on your back and a mischievous grin to match.
he takes his spot on the couch, shuffling out of the denim jacket that had clung to him all night. he’s sure he can hear a distant banging, some muffled moans and a squeaky mattress. or maybe it’s his subconscious playing cruel, horrid tricks on him. whatever it is, he hates that it’s got him excited. it’s incredibly disgusting and perverted but he can’t help it. he’d sported a slight chub for most of the night which was definitely not helping right now.
tossing on the uncomfortable couch until his head is buried in the cushion and he can’t hear it anymore. certainly rock solid as his eyes squeeze shut. oh fuck. the bathroom seemed like a perfectly valid idea now, that wasn’t weird right?
just before he can convince himself to get up and go the stairs creak and he can hear a soft padding of feet climbing down. freezing in his spot, hips pressed into the soft cushion so as to not give away his precarious position. it’s just someone getting water, at least he hopes.
‘are you a fuckin’ idiot?’ your voice whispers harshly from the doorway, muttering curses under your breath as you stumble across the room to the couch.
‘w-what?’ he speaks, turning his head but leaving his body flat against the back of the sofa. now he definitely didn’t want you to see that.
‘you were supposed to- fuck, where are you?’ groaning as your toe collides with the coffee table, still blindly feeling your way to the couch.
‘here,’ he calls, holding his arm out for you to find.
using his voice to finally find the stupid couch, fumbling around as your leg slings over his sideways turned thighs, ‘why are you lying like that? move,’ speaking in hushed voices, trying not to wake the gentle giant on the opposite sofa.
your bossiness certainly doesn’t make matters any better, his dick straining against the denim as he reshuffles, lying flat on his back. he’s grateful that you’d straddled his thighs and not his raging boner.
‘you were supposed to say that you were staying with me, you idiot,’ sitting tall atop his legs.
his hands are suspended in the air, hesitant to touch you. or touch the wrong part of you even. eddie’s brain reboots when you shuffle upwards, mouth running dry as the cogs turn ever so slowly to formulate a reply.
‘i- wha? i thought.. you and steve.. uh, in the closet?’ his eyes somewhat adjusting to the darkness, just about making out your figure and your furrowed brows. oh god it’s so hot- you’re so hot when you’re mad. his mind flashing back to that dingy closet and how fucking good your hand felt in his hair.
‘no,’ you grimace, ‘i don’t want to fuck steve, i want to fuck you.. are you stupid?’ coming to place your hands on his chest. sure that you could feel his heart pounding through his shirt. ‘he just touched my tits a little and besides, i hid in the bathroom until he passed out.. you are stupid.’
his mouth opens and subsequently shuts again without any words forming. there weren’t any. yes. yes he was stupid. quite clearly. most people probably would’ve gathered what was going on when you’d fondled his balls and very obviously stated that you wanted to fuck him later. well, eddie wasn’t most people.
‘you do?’ is all that he manages to squeeze out, sounding like a small child. eyes shining bright in the little light leaking through the curtains.
‘oh my god,’ you complain, leaning down to connect your lips, wanting to shut him up if nothing else.
even now, he’s still taken aback but he’s not completely brain dead yet as his hands find your hips. see? didn’t even need your guidance this time.
your hips grind down against his, pyjama shorts riding up as you move. eddie’s positively gutted that he can’t see them in this light, he knows they’re soft, can feel that at least. he’s more confident now, a new air about him that just wasn’t there mere hours ago. he thinks that maybe it’s because there isn’t a room full of his friends listening to your every move outside.
that or the sheer level of arousal coursing his veins.
but his tongue is the one to slip into your mouth, noting that you’d definitely brushed your teeth and he wished he’d done the same. your fingers walk the length of his chest, coming between your bodies to his belt buckle.
this is it. he’s going to lose his virginity. and to you no less. oh fuck.
you pull away, tapping on his chest with your other hand, ‘sit up,’ forefinger hooked into one of his belt loops.
he obliges immediately, shifting to sit back against the arm rest. making sure to hold onto your waist as he does. you feel so soft, his fingers melding into your skin perfectly. the cold metal of his rings leaving tiny indentations as his grip tightens. he’d do anything you asked him to, especially if you were poised above him like this.
your hand goes back to working his belt off, unbuttoning his jeans and working them down his thighs. brushing against his length with your fingers. he’s almost panting, head lolling back instinctively, stifling the ungodly moan that had found itself in the back of his throat.
‘look at me,’ you whisper, still tracing the veiny cock beneath you.
his head shoots up, looking back into your eyes. desperate to please you, abiding by any and all instructions that you barked just incase he fucked this up. he would have to pack his bags and flee the country if he did. not sure that he would be able to live with himself.
‘are you a virgin?’ you ask quietly and he feels his cheeks flush immediately.
was it that obvious? the fact that he’d popped a boner the second you’d kissed him was probably a dead giveaway, actually. you don’t seem to care.. he has no reason to lie. unless this is all one big prank and you’re actually about to climb off of him and start laughing.
it’s totally shameful but actually that’d probably still get him off.
‘yeah..’
you nod, taking your eyes off of his to look down at his cock. there’s a tiny wet patch which had actually most likely been there for hours when he thinks about it.
‘you want to, don’t you? we don’t have to.. could suck you off or something?’
‘n-no no, i want to.. trust me, i want to,’ sounding as desperate as humanly possible. over his dead body would he would fuck this up. now he’s not sure how long he’ll last but he’s sure it won’t be long.
‘okay.. good,’ you smirk, bringing the waistband of his boxers down. his cock springs up to his stomach and his eyes flit shut. was his dick small? is that something you cared about? he didn’t have much to go off here except from porn and even he knew that wasn’t exactly realistic.
he can hear you spit into your hand and he’s back to full attention, watching as it drops into your palm and trying his hardest not to cum right now. with your chin shining and your lips wet, it’s all too much.
and when your tender hand covered in your spit wraps around the base of his cock, he chokes on nothing. fingernails leaving crescent moon shapes in your hips, certain that he’s probably hurting you but unable to let go without busting a nut.
you pump your hand a few times, watching intently as he struggles to stay with it. it’s heaven. no no, it’s better than heaven. better than anything he’d ever experienced in his entire life. and the man had gotten creative with some of his masturbation sessions to say the least.
a snore rips through the room and it’s then that he’s reminded of the other man passed out on the other side of the room, ‘shit.. sh-should we carry on?’ nervously taking his bottom lip between his teeth.
‘just be quiet, he won’t wake up,’ ignoring the drunkard and continuing to pump your hand.
eddie’s unsure if it’s you or if he’s feeling things but he can feel a something wet on his thigh. not brave enough to take his hand down there to find out.
‘you sure you want to?’ leaving your hand at the base of his cock to move yourself upwards.
‘y-yes.. please,’ nodding like a maniac.
that’s all the confirmation you need to shift your shorts out of the way, sitting straighter on your knees and positioning his tip at your sopping entrance.
he’s not prepared one bit for how intense it feels. the sensation sends shockwaves through his entire body, sending his head spinning.
lowering yourself down onto him with a soft sigh, hands now finding his shoulders for leverage. eddie’s about to start levitating. you’re so warm, enveloping him inside just right. the second you move, he’ll probably start crying.
his eyes struggle to stay open, rolling to the back of his head. moaning far too loudly when your hips move forward causing your hand to clamp right over his mouth. as if that wouldn’t make him cum ten times faster.
‘shh,’ you hiss, working your hips at a steady rhythm. soft squeaks leaving your own mouth with every bounce but keeping your eyes steady on him. enjoying the sight of him coming completely undone underneath your body.
your hand leaves his shoulder for a second, manoeuvring his hand onto your chest, ‘touch me,’ mewling when he gets the gist and starts palming your tit. the feel of your hardened nipples underneath his palm only sending him hurtling faster towards his already fast approaching orgasm.
he’s one second away from blurting out that he’s in love with you. which he doesn’t think is far off of the truth to be honest.
you trust him enough to not start babbling and take your hand from his mouth, grabbing onto his shoulder again to quicken your pace. clit catching against the patch of pubes he wishes he had time to tame. it was driving him fucking insane, knowing that he was the reason you were panting and cursing under your breath.
there it is. that familiar sensation of something tightening in his stomach, except a hundred times more intense than anything he’d ever felt before. quickly shaking his head to give you some forewarning though it’s pretty useless.
‘f-fuck, oh fuck,’ lifting his hips from the couch to empty himself into you. eddie could’ve never imagined that this is what you would feel like. pure ecstasy vibrating through his limbs, spurts of white hot pleasure exploding behind his eyelids.
his thighs shaking as he collapses back into the couch, still mumbling a bunch of sorries as he attempts to float back down to planet earth. he’d lasted a measly few minutes and for that, he wanted to curl up and die. if it weren’t for the fact that you were so fucking sexy and so warm and so perfect- he probably would’ve lasted at least a couple minutes more.
eddie’s eyes stay closed as you climb off of him, readjusting your shorts as you settle on his thighs once again, ‘you back in the room yet?’ chuckling quickly, leering down at him.
a strangled laugh falls out of his lips, daring to look at you. ashamed even though he knows it’s not that bad. sure he’d lasted longer than at least one other person out there.
‘sorry.. i swear, gimme like.. like ten minutes..’ doing everything in his power to convince you not to leave. because truthfully if you stayed like this, he probably would be hard again in a matter of minutes.
‘hey.. it’s okay,’ you lean down, chest flat against his, ‘don’t worry ‘bout it,’ head perfectly tilted to gaze up into his eyes. maybe he wouldn’t need ten minutes at all. not with the way you’re looking at him like that, doe eyed and whispering sweet words of encouragement into his ear.
‘wanna.. uh,’ the words stick in his throat, ‘wanna get you off,’ blushing despite the fact his dick had literally just been buried inside of you. it’s ridiculous really.
‘you can.. don’t worry,’ pressing your lips to the stubble beneath his chin.
his cock twitches at the sensation and he truly realises how completely pathetic he was. fully at your mercy but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
4K notes · View notes
steddieas-shegoes · 3 months
Text
for @thefreakandthehair (and @vecnuthy and @wormdebut while we’re at it) because sometimes you help a baseball player through French class so they can stay on the team and then they end up on the Savannah bananas and you decide to put the fictional men into situations about it *shrugs*
Eddie was going to have to transfer out of this class. This was one of his easiest classes and it was filled with every jock on campus attempting to fill their foreign language requirement with French.
And they were all failing. And annoying. And obnoxious.
And a few of them were also hot.
But Eddie wasn’t gonna focus on that!
He was gonna finish today’s assignment and then head straight to the advising office to find another class that worked with his work schedule.
“Hey,” the guy next to him whispered as the teacher droned on about conjugating verbs. “Do you have any idea what the fuck the homework was?”
Eddie turned to glare at the person, but his face dropped when he noticed who it was.
The campus celebrity: Steve Harrington.
Couldn’t quite make it on the college baseball team, but managed to make the sort-of professional, but mostly joke team Hawkins Hooligans.
Eddie didn’t like sports, never had. He could appreciate that it took skill and whatnot, but he didn’t care much to watch it or make celebrities of people who were just really good at one very specific thing usually involving some kind of ball. But he could appreciate a joke. And this team had jokes.
Steve was actually apparently good enough to play pro, had even been scouted by the MLB his senior year of high school. One week before his professional tryout, he tore a muscle in his shoulder, had to sit for three months and had to do physical therapy for another three, and voila! No pro ball for him. No college either since he missed spring training.
But he still had skill, and he still had a father with a lot of pull in the business, even if it wasn’t quite enough to get him on the Yankees or whatever.
So he was biding his time on the Hooligans until next year when he could try out for the college team again, maybe increase his chances of a real pro career.
Eddie definitely hadn’t watched videos of him during their first few games of the season where they faced the Indy Idols and the Chicago Charades.
He definitely hadn’t gotten a weird flutter in his stomach when Steve had been the one to lip sync to Hot For Teacher while pretending his bat was a guitar.
He definitely didn’t have a crush on Steve.
“Uh. Dude?” Steve asked him again, shaking him out of his thoughts.
“Yeah. It was the study guide for the first quiz. Not due until next class though,” he whispered back.
“Oh. Thanks.”
Eddie turned his attention back to the professor, not really needing to pay attention since he already knew quite a bit of French.
A tap on his shoulder made him yelp, and the entire room turned to him. He waved apologetically before turning to Steve with a murderous look.
“What?” He hissed out.
“Do you understand this?”
“Yes and you probably would too if you stopped talking to me.”
Eddie was ignoring the voice in his head screaming at him to let Steve keep talking to him for as long as he wanted.
“I don’t think that’s it,” Steve huffed before sitting back in his seat and folding his arms across his chest. He mumbled something else that sounded like ‘I’m just stupid’ but Eddie couldn’t be 100% sure.
“A lot of this stuff is just English spelled a little differently.” Eddie sighed. “You could almost definitely figure it out if you took some notes.”
“Yeah, probably.”
Eddie’s brows scrunched together as he glanced at Steve’s red face.
Hm. There was definitely something to unpack here.
“You can borrow mine if you want,” Eddie offered as he watched the professor switch slides on the presentation. “I don’t really need them until the final.”
“Oh!” Steve sounded genuinely surprised by his offer, like he hadn’t been basically asking for help only a moment ago. “You don’t have to do that. I mean, it wouldn’t do much good for me anyway.”
“What do you mean?” Steve had Eddie’s full attention now.
“I’m. I-“ Steve sighed. “I’m dyslexic, man. Reading’s hard for me.”
Well, fuck. Eddie felt like an asshole now.
“Oh.” Eddie looked down at his scribbled notes, cringing at the thought of someone else trying to read them, let alone someone who already struggled with reading from a printed page. “Yeah, my handwriting is shit so it’d probably be useless to you. Shit, it’s almost useless to me.”
Steve snorted, immediately covering his mouth to avoid any more noise from escaping. Eddie could see he was still smiling though. His eyes were very expressive.
“Don’t you have accommodations?” Eddie asked him.
“Nah, my dad doesn’t believe it’s a problem.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Said I just need to focus more and it’ll ‘work itself out.’”
“He sounds like he’s a lot of fun at parties.”
Steve snorted again. “Yeah, a blast.”
“So you aren’t a natural at French?”
Steve shook his head. “I’m barely a natural at English.”
“I could help you?” Eddie was an idiot. An idiot with a crush on someone who would never be interested in anything he had to offer except tutoring.
“Help me? You’d help me?” Steve seemed eager, maybe a little desperate.
Eddie kinda liked that.
“I mean, yeah. If you’re actually willing to put in the work and not expect me to just do the work for you.”
Steve smiled. God, that was a nice smile. Eddie was absolutely fucked.
“I work well with a reward system,” he smirked. “If you’re willing.”
Eddie’s eyes widened momentarily as the realization sunk in that he’d just been flirted with.
By Steve Harrington.
“Oh, I can definitely work with that.”
Steve nodded once, grinned at Eddie as he picked up his pen and ripped off a small piece of his unused notebook paper. He scribbled something down and folded it once before handing it to Eddie.
“Let me know when I need to show up, Eds.”
Eddie unfolded the paper and nearly dropped it.
Stevie H. 555-555-0086 My dorm at 7? No clothes required
When Eddie looked back up, Steve was facing the front, seemingly paying attention to the lecture.
Eddie quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and put Steve’s contact info in. He could wait until after class to send him a text. He could.
Instead, he typed out something quick to hold them both over until later.
Studying naked is my favorite thing 😉
Steve’s knee nudged against his in response.
Maybe Eddie wouldn’t take that trip to advising after all.
And if he was featured on the next TikTok for the Hawkins Hooligans, with Steve fake serenading him in the stands, nobody had to know he didn’t really like sports.
He liked Steve, though. Even when Steve actually managed to play real competitive baseball. Even when Steve managed to get a spot on the Cubs.
Especially when Steve proposed to him during a game in maybe the worst recorded French of all time.
1K notes · View notes