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#ig i'll label it as a thirst
nancydrewwouldnever · 2 years
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But, yeah, I'm glad I'm hearing from others that I'm not the only one not quite understanding this fandom narrative around social media usage// is not about social media usage, is also about a man who in most the one time said he didnt like sm, but he uses mostly for work. If you see his insta is pretty boring: dodger, nature/nasa and job. The last time he did piano videos or something more thirsty or personal was like a year ago. His first insta post was a random tree Google pic! he seems very control freak of his privacy and doesnt seem the type who likes gamblyng his image/ privacy online to look for dating. Imo people that are to much invested in sm theories forget the real life.They exchange sm interactions for more relevant real life interactions. Because since they dont know Chris in person neither he shares a lot of his real life, the things that they see of him in sm are the only ones so therefore his life is only sm theories. Is quite sad and exausting.
When people keep labeling Chris' IG as "boring"... are they using it as interchangeable with "bland"? Or is this just a bias on some viewpoint that all celebrity social media should be constant thirst trapping?
See, I see his nature and NASA/space stuff as highly personal to him. Even Dodger posts are highly personal to him, because of how much he loves that dog. I'll admit I miss the book posts, although most will groan me for that.
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dragonspine-jpg · 3 years
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nsfw below, minors dni ♡
warning— sub! gorou, gn dom! reader, masturbation.
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having some gorou brainrot rn and can we discuss that he is 100% the type to push his face into some of your clothes when you’re not around and get off to the scent? like he’ll be waiting around all sad while you’re away for the day or night, ears all droopy and being all pouty. and then—idea!
his eyes physically light up and both his ears and his tail perk up, and he runs off to your shared bedroom and digs around for some of your worn clothes. he finds a shirt of yours from a few days ago and can’t help but ball it up and press it against his nose. instantly, your scent envelops him. sweet, mouthwatering: however you smell when you greet him when he comes home from general duties, when you cuddle him, when the two of you cook together. when he closes his eyes with your shirt clogging his airways, it’s like you’re just there.
he strips himself off quickly and is fast to get onto the bed, pushing a pillow between his legs. just can’t help himself.
he starts by grinding down onto the pillow, holding your crumpled shirt to his face with one hand a slicking up his cock with the other. eventually, he’s bent over the pillow doggystyle, ass raised, face pressed into your shirt as he fucks himself deeply with two fingers. he’s humping the pillow, just picturing you, your hands and your face and, oh, your voice. it smells so good. he’s high on it. fucking himself as best he can to the thought of you and being loud, loud.
he whines and keens, imagining that you’re there, that your hands are in his hair or scratching his ears, that your hands are holding his hips and it’s you filling him up, not just his useless fingers. you’d bite at his neck. he moans at the thought.
he can smell you so strongly... it’s intoxicating.
you’d call him a “good boy” because, yes, he is—your good boy—and he imagines those words on your lips as he grinds down helplessly onto the pillow, a general debauched. “you’re so good for me, gorou,” you’d say if you were there. “so pretty and so good.” onto the pillow he humps, and then pushes back into his fingers. it’s not as good. they don’t reach as deep as you do, he can’t get the right angle. but it’s so easy to imagine.
he feels kind of... bad, as he does it. knows he’s not really being good, humping while pressing his face into your clothes. it’s wrong. he feels pervy. even though it’s the shirt you wore before literally railing his brains out a few days ago. he can’t help but feel a little guilty. he doesn’t want to be bad. and it's embarrassing. the general of the watatsumi army reduced to such a needy mess in your absence. he wonders if you’ll be mad. but he can’t stop. he drools over your shirt and moans, whines, breathes your name over and over. he goes until his eyes roll back and his hips stutter, legs shake, ears twitch, and he cums all over the sheets and your clothes. 
he really just can’t help yourself. not when you’re away, and you smell so good. 
(you come back later to find him asleep covered in cum and with his face still pressed into your shirt, and decide to give him what he really wants then and there).
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