Tumgik
#its kind of. a bad political take
235uranium · 6 months
Text
gonna be real i have yet to see anything actually compelling for antipsych to be a decent methodology other than "psychology and psychiatry havent been very good at doing science, so clearly science cant answer this question"
2 notes · View notes
miralines · 1 year
Text
I don’t have the brainpower to elaborate on this the way it deserves but the Toy Soldier is a brilliant parody of militarism and Dapper Steampunk Englishness that really doesn’t get enough credit
345 notes · View notes
zhuhongs · 4 months
Text
just found out the lead singer of taiwans biggest death metal band is also an active parliament member since like 2015.... and is still active as a death metal singer. he's a pretty standard taiwanese center left anti communist from what i could gather. which like as a leftist i dont really agree with but i also dont know enough abt taiwanese politics to like make a full judgement. though he seems to be a standard liberal nothing remarkable, radical, or new, not overtly horrible but just bland. but that was something i definitely did Not expect. apparently he's very pro indigenous rights and self determination for indigenous people but being in a centre left mega party like the DPP does not seem like the best way to achieve that. But yea, just thought I'd share
Tumblr media
#chthinic collabed heavily with collage last year and ik natsuki (lead singer of collage) is very pro indigenous rights and posts abt it a#lot of instagram and i really appreciate the amount of political stuff on her platform. its all very progressive tho v much limited to tw#so idk. i kind of got the cibe of some groups that see taiwanese indigenous issues as seperate to the larger issue of colonialism and#indigenous rights all over the world to conflicts such as palestine. where some other groups have a lot more of the collective consciousnes#and idk. my view is limited and i didnt see that much but when i go back i def wanna look for more political groups in tw and learn about#the political landscape there for leftism. theres a lot of potential in tw imo#chthonic* natsuko**#edit: overall i think that like.. i get the spirit but i feel like for many taiwanese the identity of tw has been everyone united agaisnt#china which i can understand from the perspective of the indigenous ppl that had their land colonized by the japanese then had to share with#the fleeing kmt settlers. but like i dont think that its the best approach to say only china bad rather than big governments threatening to#take your land by force is bad. because idk my take on china and tw is that regardless of the historical claim or wtv. taiwans indigenous#people have been there long before the han ever stepped foot. and china isnt all good as seen in its treatment of the uyghers and tibetans#but is overall not nearly as bad as the west paints it to be. china is neither fully a communist paradise. and has many capitalist undertone#s influence the government ever since deng xiaoping came to power. personally i never fully agreed with mao. i think mao was a necessary#figure in the beginning and let power go to his head and i believe zhou enlai always shouldve been the founder of the PRC#fuck the kmt.. never liked the kmt and it seems as they are also slowly losing favor in tw also. and like... hmm#i need to do more reading tho. none of this is like 100% set in stone how i feel bc theres a lot i dont know
7 notes · View notes
soldier-poet-king · 2 years
Text
Ppl be like: I'm going to post critical analysis of X piece of fiction and then post the absolute worst brain-dead, genre NOT aware, stupid things I've ever seen
Just read the worst "analysis through a critical lens" of [thing I love dearly] and it was like.....so stupid???? And not just because it's smthn I love dearly BC usually I just get flustered and upset when ppl attack things I love (I'm working on not doing that) but I'm just??? This is so stupid genuinely???
I'm sorry the fantasy politics aren't realistic enough??? Or suited to your tastes??? I'm sorry the book about kindness and goodness and interpersonal relationships didn't....checks notes....enact anything other than a "feelgood neoliberalism" rather than whatever political revolution you desire??? Like read the room my dude, it's not a book about politics and privilege and power, it's a book about people and small gentle kindness and love that happens to be dry against a backdrop of politics. Do you genuinely expect every single book to like.....solve every world crisis if a single character holds a position of power??? Every fictional monarch to immediate abolish the monarchy and instate universal income or they're problematic??? You do realize that's not even how the ACTUAL REAL LIFE WORLD works yeah??? I'm supportive of both those initiatives among others and drastic change is needed but y'all don't even want to do the dishes, but will shit on the little actions and small changes and, yes, the naive "niceness" of kindhearted people
Like???? Sometimes I am violently reminded that there is a fundamental rift between how I and most other leftists see the world and what our duty and obligations are and the values of kindness and why love matters even if theres no result and nothing changes and ultimately you lose and it's a tragedy it's the Christianity babes
And also. It's just a book?????? It's not even a problematic or controversial book??? Are you really out here GRRM-ing everything you read??? Do you ever have fun???
21 notes · View notes
roxyandelsewhere · 2 years
Text
this isn't a diss on anyone, it's just an observation of a general trend, but it's interesting how the notes in my post about scorsese's film foundation's free screenings of restored old movies are full of anti-marvel people, and i know this because so many people mention marvel when they reblog the post. it's interesting because it's part of a debate on cinema as art vs marvel as the star and symbol of movies as just another branch of capitalism, the crux of that debate being marvel's power to make itself dominate our view, earshot, brainspace etc. and then marvel keeps popping up in comments about fully unrelated things because they're the other side of that debate. i don't think this constitutes free advertising but that brainspace they can force themselves into? we're doing it ourselves now. i get the urge to say that stuff, i really do, but i'm not sure how the art of cinema can win against the omnipresence of marvel if efforts towards preserving and sharing it are a middle finger at marvel first and a world of cinema outside of it second. we need to be better i think. it starts with us
26 notes · View notes
bcneheaded · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
@ artemis when people compliment his appearance like 'oh you're so handsome!' or along those lines in terms of physical appearance immediately thinking you're absolutely FULL of shit and immediately laughing dryly like 'haha :) mhm... yes... how kind.' but not in an accepting the compliment way NOR in a self-deprecating one, but rather in a (subtly) bitchy, dismissive one. like.... listen.... He KNOWS what he looks like and it is NOT attractive in the way people say it like it is? If he didn't wear his suits and hold himself confident and like, elegantly, no one would compliment him that way, surely! That's how he thinks anyway. ALSO there's the whole... 'I'm literally wearing a skull over my face along with several other human bones that cover my body... you can't even SEE what I bloody look like--'
1 note · View note
bestial4ngel · 1 year
Text
I’m quite new to the topic so I have to say my knowledge of it is very limited right now, but the way that Weimar cabaret in it’s blatant sexuality and queerness, and the way that its’ becoming more integrated into “regular” society was a factor in the rise in reactionary views in the late 20s and early 30s kind of feels disturbingly similar to what’s happening now with drag shows?
Like I know it’s commonly known that Germany and Berlin in particular had a large and more openly queer community than in most places at the time, but I was just looking into cabaret specifically because I find it interesting and it was pretty eerie to hear that in the late 20’s before everything started going to shit, it had actually began to be a thing for cishet people to go to queer cabaret and nightclubs because some of the venues were so well known. Like to the point that they were mentioned in “things you should do in Berlin” type of newspaper articles and tourists would come to see them.
Idk about everyone else but that sounds so much like how going to drag shows became a semi-popular and cool thing for some cishet people for awhile, only then for the reactionary conservative views to rear their ugly heads and start not only trying to tear down drag shows and paint them as immoral, but trying to do that to actual trans people, drag performers, etc. as well.
#and ofc the way that so many of the writers for cabaret were jewish influenced the reactionary shit a ton as well#ngl this is kind of horrifying and truly frightening to think about because of how there was a similar boom in acceptance and then a rapid—#decline and now attempts to take away rights and worse#like um I knew shit was bad already ofc and I already knew about the parallels but thats straight up uncanny to me#it’s physically painful to think about how beautiful it must have been there and how good it could have been if they hadn’t destroyed &#outlawed it all obviously but it’s also like seriously sickening to realize that it’s so similar to whats going on rn#and the way that the performances increased significantlyin how political they were as a response to the growing nazi shit in the early 30s-#feels eerily familiar as well. like things have gotten increasingly political since 2016 for obvious reasons and bc its getting more dire—#by the year#history repeats itself ig#sorry this is such a bleak post lmao but yeah like wow idk#/holocaust mention#/homophobia#/transphobia#transphobia#drag shows#queer history#cabaret theatre#german queer history#history#trans rights#theatre history#1920s#also I ​might be wrong but I thought the whole ‘protect the children’ thing was a n*zi propaganda tactic too? tho it might have been about—#jewish people only not queer people I don’t remember well enough to say for sure#people who know more than me about this please feel free to correct me or add additional input !!#willing to add more tws if requested
6 notes · View notes
Text
i want to be excited about the new pjo book but at this point in my life i just feel too cynical/overly critical of blatant cash grabs that i’m just expecting it to be shit :///
#i cant tell if this outlook is good or bad#bc on the one hand i dont want to give my money to capitalist corporations that hold so much power (economically and culturally#and to a much smaller extent politically) and im so tired of all these reboots and sequels and remakes and revivals etc etc etc#that i dont want to encourage it! i want it to stop! so i dont want to contribute to it! and i want other ppl to see how low-quality#all these shows and movies and books are!#but then on the other hand: i'm so cynical about it and so hyper-critical of the media i consume#that i wonder if im making my life more miserable?#like do i see it as a point of pride to not engage in shitty media like mcu movies? the answer is probably yes!#so does that mean im hypocritical about shit or taking the fun out of harmless things? i dont know!#(and obviously this doesnt apply to stuff thats actively harmful. racist military propaganda like certain mcu movies/shows are NOT equivalen#to a percy jackson book getting published 14 years after the end of the original series.#) but that being SAID i just...AHHH.#i think i want to be happy about this#but instead im just kind of annoyed?#in a 'is nothing sacred?' kind of way.#because it very much IS a cash-grab cop-out. even the premise looks lame as hell#and i want it to be good but i think it'll be very bad.#i guess ill just have to wait and see. if it turns out to be actually very good then ill be ecstatic#but if its just mediocre like im expecting. then i think ill feel really angry#and then ill feel alone in that anger because everyone is so hungry for consuming content content content these days#that everyone is foaming at the mouth over this announcement bc theyll eat up ANYTHING related to content they already like.#and arent capable of being critical about it.#but then that circles back to my ORIGINAL question by wondering if we NEED to be as critical as im being AT ALL.#maybe its nbd and i should just let people have their fun! or maybe its fine for me to be annoyed! maybe both???? fuck me idk.#just some thoughts#pjo#mine
2 notes · View notes
Text
Hot take: If you want a group of people to do something, you should tell them and guide them how to do so. 
I know, it’s a wild concept, but I really believe that if people knew what you wanted from them then they’d be more likely to give it to you.
(This post is sarcastic and about my local city government making laws but not making them known to the general public of the city- or put an easier to understand way for the general populous to easily accesses the laws they’re supposed to follow.) i’m so fucking tired goodnight don’t do important legalish research when sleep is pounding on the door refusing to be ignored~~~
#tw politics#sarcasam#id love to think im just an idiot and missed the very clear memo#but i know for a fact that isn't the case#dont forget to hit that like button and subscribe for more shit posts#comment down below what your favorite kind of neighbors sh-#shouting in the middle of the night are#mine are the clearly unarmed drunk yelling to themselves while they stagger to a specfic place#its reassuring to know that the guy yelling about killing someone is still drunk and mad and most likely not a murderer#although#considering my mom was the only one who didn't get bad vibes from the coworker that later turned out to be a serial killer#i dont have very good vibe detecting genes#which makes more sense than that other people would not take comfort hearing the same drunk shouting again#im so tired#i need to shut up#tw alchoholism#i guess?#tw mention of murder#the fact that we argue whether or not logistically the guy fits the defination of serial killer#instead of the fact that this dude was in close proximity to my mom for a not short period of time#murdering women and abusing everyone in his household. this is america. who doesnt know or know of at least one murderer?#or victim. knowing a victim of murder is also kind of normal. i really do feel for people who aren't desensitized#and i feel a bit of bitterness and envy that arent logical#because people unused to darker side of humanity get to feel big erruptions of emotions- something that my brain says should be my reaction#but it never is anymore#and i feel bad for not feeling bad enough#where did this train of thought come from?#i was bitching about pet liscences...#idk goodnight sweet dreams love yall
3 notes · View notes
guinevereslancelot · 1 month
Text
is there any worse feeling than when you feel like someone is mad at you bc they literally are mad at you
#i came into the living room and my dad was yelling abt how he basically hates everyone in the whole family#bc nobody got around to reqding the latest chapter of his book yet#but he was really upset and mad#i get being hurt by that but it literally is not a personal rejection people are just busy idk#he didn't let on he was upset at all until he completely flipped out#now he doesn't want anyone to read it anymore#he's really hurt tho bc we all always read my mom's stuff#and my brother and i talk abt what we're writing together all the time#and i get there's a special kind of hoy sharing your writing with someone but only when they're really interested and engaged#unfortunately the two people most likely to care abt hia book are my two oldest brothers and they dont live w us#so they cant really give him that feedback#he did send hia chapters to them but they arent around to talk abt it and havent responded yet#basically nobody actually cares abt his book#he's been talking abt writing one for like ten years or more and only started in the past few months#its a zombie book and full of his really weird and controversial political and religious takes tho sp its a stressful read#i dont really agree w him on certain issues and we're ok abt it usually but it makes reading it more stressful#anyway#he's really upset tho#and he can only express unpleasant emotions through anger so i shut down and cant interact#and he specifically said he doesnt want people do do the thing he's so hurt that we didnt do#so there's no real way to set things right to alleviate my anxiety#he's a very difficult person to love with sometimes but he's really generous and has done a lot to help me#so i can live my dream and start a business and he's not really pressuring me abt my job seaech and rent and stuff#so it does make me feel guilty that i basically didn't care abt his book#it wouldnt be as bad if literally everyone in the family hadn't also done that#when he does to much for everyone#he's mad at everyone but im the only one having a panic attack and im the only one he didn't yell at#he's not handling his emotions well but neither do i so we usually just dont acknowledge things like this until everyone is over it#but i hate that i literally need conflict to be resolved immediately or i go insane
1 note · View note
nereidprinc3ss · 2 months
Text
do you believe me now?
in which fem!reader is insecure around spencer until she finally asks him to take matters into his own hands (literally)
part two
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, fingering, softdom!spencer my sweet sweet beloved angel, sub reader, praise, you know he talks you through it, brief mention of drinking wine, i think that's it a/n: i hope u guys like this ! slightly different dynamic than my other stuff maybe but let me know what u think!! i love feedback and i love YOU!!!
“You’re so pretty.”
It’s the first thing Spencer has said since you two landed on his couch, exhausted from one of Rossi’s extravagant soirées. It was your first of many, if Spencer’s entire team is to be believed. More nights featuring Italian food and wine you could never afford don’t sound half bad—but for now you’re drained. You barely had the energy to kick off your heels and topple into Spencer’s lap five minutes ago. The silk dress still pools over his knees and your hair still falls in curls around your face. He brushes one aside as he continues. 
“I mean—you always look beautiful. But I’ve never seen you all done up. You’re obscenely gorgeous.”
You groan awkwardly, burying your face in Spencer’s collar as your face heats. Taking compliments has never been your strong suit, especially from someone who you perceive to be so out of your league. The relationship you have with Spencer is relatively new, and sometimes you worry delicate; like one slip-up revealing the real you and he’ll go running. So far, though, he seems hellbent on proving you wrong. 
His hand finds the bare skin of your arm, passing up and down gently. “Why don’t you believe me?”
“…I do.”
It’s unconvincing. Spencer scoffs. 
“No, you don’t. You never believe me when I compliment you.”
The cadence of his voice is light enough, but it’s evident that there’s some genuine frustration there, lurking just under the surface. 
Your head lolls over his shoulder and he angles his neck to look down at you. Hair falls over his eyes, and you’d fix it if he didn’t look so damn perfect. Everything about him looks intentional, like he was designed by someone who took great pride in their work. Not at all like you—a collage of features and spare parts you guess whatever force created you had lying around. Nothing about you feels on purpose. But that’s a hard thing to explain.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s impolite. It just feels disingenuous to accept compliments like that.”
Goosebumps arise on your arm where he touches you.
“You being polite isn’t what I’m concerned about. I just wish I could make you understand that I mean it when I compliment you. You’d know if I didn’t. I’m a terrible liar.”
That earns a giggle from you. Your boyfriend smiles, sparkling eyes darting over your face like he’s trying to bottle the sound, the memory—and you realize he probably is. What a terrifying thought. You look away, abashed once more. 
“I’m a woman, Spencer. I’m not allowed to like myself. That’s the whole thing with Eve and the snake and the apple and whatever. Eternal inescapable shame.”
“Are you trying to justify your self-loathing by making it biblical? You know I’m the last person that would work on, right? Both as an agnostic-leaning-athiest and someone who thinks you’re beautiful and wonderful.”
Another groan claws its way from your throat as you slide down in embarrassment. 
“You’re killing me here, Spencer.”
“What can I do to do to make you believe me?” he murmurs, carefully brushing tangles from your hair as you now rest practically prone across his lap. The ceiling light stretches behind him, haloing him in a soft glowing crown and making everything a bit more hazy and tolerable. 
“It’s not your fight.” It’s meant to be playfully dramatic, but it hangs from your lips with a painful amount of earnestness. 
“If it’s yours, it’s mine. That’s kind of the whole point of a relationship, right? Being a team?”
His fingers are nimble and warm between yours as you interlace them, steepling and bumping them together as you speak. 
“Well, if you know so much, why are you asking me? It sounds like you know exactly what to do to make me magically love myself.”
A dangerous twitch plays at the corner of his lips as he gazes sleepily down at you. 
“Oh, I have a few ideas. But I’m asking what you’d be comfortable with.”
“Whoa!” you blurt, giggling self-consciously, covering your face with your (and inadvertently one of his) hands. “Where did that come from?”
He smiles at your response to his mildly suggestive comment. “I lose my filter when I'm tired. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” 
You sigh gustily, dragging his hand down to fall over your collarbones. His fingers twitch over the delicate skin, like he’d graze it if your hand wasn’t weighing his down. 
“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you just… surprised me. I’m really bad at talking about this kind of thing.”
“Sex?”
You yelp, slinging your arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your elbow. “AH! Don’t say it!” 
He laughs again, a little less reserved this time. 
“What? You can’t even listen to me say the word?”
“No! Too scary!”
Eventually you peek out from under your arm to find Spencer still watching you. The humor has faded from his eyes and been replaced by a kind of serene calm. He brushes a lock of hair from your shoulder. 
“Come here,” he says—a request more than a demand. With some wriggling and a bit of help, you manage to reorient yourself into a sitting position across his lap once more. His touch is warm even through the fabric of your dress when he kisses you, hand sliding over your waist before moving to trace your jaw and ending up on the back of your neck, urging you closer ever so slightly. You kiss him back without hesitation or restraint, as you delight in doing when he gives you the opportunity. What you may lack in experience and refinement, you make up for with affection and enthusiasm. He pulls away after a minute, much to your dismay, and brushes his thumb over your lips. For the first time, you think you see a hint of worry in his eyes. Guilt claws at your heart when he quietly asks, “you’re not scared of me, are you?”
“No!” You assure quickly, looping your arms around his neck. “No, it’s not you. You’re perfect and I’m sure you really mean all of the nice things you say. But I just… sometimes I worry I’ll scare you away once you realize I’m not as pretty or… good as you thought.”
“That’s impossible.”
Once more you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “You don’t know that.” 
His hand begins running up and down your back, soothing your sympathetic nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could. 
“I know that I really, really like you. And there’s not one part of you that I don’t find genuinely beautiful. I can’t imagine not feeling that way about you.” Your eyes flutter shut and you hum against him—a non-answer, but he doesn’t push it. Minutes go by quietly, ticking later into the night as he continues mindlessly rubbing your back and watching you breathe. “Do you want me to take you home?” He finally asks after a long while. Again, you don’t respond. He smiles. “I know you’re awake.”
The corner of your lip twitches as you attempt to suppress a grin. Spencer sighs. 
“I guess if you’re already asleep you’ll just have to stay here. But it would be convenient if you’d sleepwalk to my bed so that I don’t have to carry you.”
When you begin stirring and sitting up (one eye cracked to navigate) he laughs, hands on your waist. “Would you look at that. Who knew she would be so suggestible in non-REM?” You snort as you push yourself to a standing position using Spencer’s shoulders to support yourself, and ruining the whole act. He smiles up at you like you’re something divine and lets his hands trail over your hips. 
“I sleep with my eyes open.”
“Do you often have coherent conversations in your sleep, too?”
You shrug. “I’m full of surprises.”
“I’m sure you are,” he agrees, finally standing himself. “I’m assuming you don’t want to sleep in your dress?”
“I have shorts on underneath I can wear, but a shirt would be helpful.”
“Then we’ll get you a shirt.”
———————————————
Ten minutes later you’re in Spencer’s bathroom, wearing your shorts and one of his sweatshirts (you cannot imagine Spencer in a hoodie), and wiping black sludge from your eyes with makeup remover he claims was left by a friend after a particularly festive Halloween party. Hopefully he’s telling the truth—you can think of more dubious potential origins of the eye-makeup remover in his bathroom. No toothbrush—you use your finger and a generous amount of toothpaste until the red wine stains fade. 
Spencer is fixing the pillows when you exit the bathroom. You hold up your hands which are completely obscured and then some by the thick fabric of his sweatshirt. 
“Fits like a dream,” you say. A smile tugs at his lips as he finishes his task, before raising his eyes to you. The smile promptly fades and it’s like the sun disappearing behind an oppressive gray cloud. In an instant your stomach curdles and you feel like crawling out of your skin. 
“…what?” you mumble, absolutely terrified that the thing he’d said was impossible just minutes ago has already happened. Without makeup, without a fancy dress, you’re just you, and maybe that’s not good enough.
“Uh…” He blinks, as if he’s buffering for a moment, before snapping back into action, and notably looking away from you. “It’s—it’s nothing. Do you, um—here, I tried to make it—“
“Stop. Just tell me what that was. You got all weird.”
Another pause—he looks back up at you reluctantly with a sigh. 
“I did not get all weird.”
“Yes, you did. You’re still being weird. It’s freaking me out.”
He’s utterly unreadable, which drives you fucking insane, when he eventually says, “come here.” This time, you think with a chill as you shuffle on your knees across the bed to sit in front of him, it really sounds like a demand. Spencer grabs your face in his hands, studying you intently. “I know you think I’ve finally decided you’re hideously deformed, but it’s actually just the opposite. I’m trying to figure out how to keep things polite for you.”
Realization dawns on you and the swarm of new butterflies in your stomach. The usual molten gold of his irises has been encroached upon, masked by blown pupils. Your face gets hot and your voice caves when you speak. 
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” he agrees quietly. “Do you believe me now?”
And to his credit, you really do. The hot skin, the vibrating cells in every fiber of your being, the racing heart—your body knows he means it. Part of you, the more confident, more desirous part, drags you closer to him, ghosts your lips over his. He chuckles. 
“Now you’re getting brave?”
“Am I not allowed to kiss you?” you whisper, draping your arms over his shoulders. 
“You’re allowed to do whatever you want.”
The words make you shiver—the lowered, gravelly tone of his voice you’ve never heard before snaps your resolve and you lean into him, connecting your lips with a deep urgency. Spencer inhales sharply, hands wandering to your waist and bearing down firmly as you press against him. When you lean back, he follows you, insists without saying a word that you don’t stop kissing him. It sends a thrill down your spine and between your legs, which both gives you pause and eggs you on. In the end, after a very brief internal struggle, curiosity and desire win. You drop to the bed and drag him down with you—he, your willing follower, blindly searches for purchase on the plush comforter. Now he’s on top of you, legs slotted together so that his thigh is temptingly close to your core. Too shy to actually do what you want to do, you clamp your thighs around his and tilt your hips, desperate for friction. He exhales heavily, slowly pulling his lips from yours like it’s the last thing he wants to do. Fingers dig into the flesh of your hip, not enough to ache but enough to draw your attention to your movements. 
“What are you doing?” he asks, firmly, but not like you’re in trouble—it’s a probing question. He’s trying to figure out if you’re aware of the way you’re nearly riding his leg. 
“I don’t know,” you admit breathlessly. 
“You just told me you couldn’t even listen to me say the word sex,” Spencer reminds you. “You said it was too scary.”
A frustrated whine seems to catch him by surprise, and he laughs. 
“That was a long time ago. I’ve matured since then.”
“Is that what happened?” he teases. 
“Honestly, I’m just really turned on right now, please—" you cut yourself off, crashing your lips into his once more. And he almost relents. 
Almost. 
“Slow down.”
He ceases kissing you for a second time and you’re starting to really get annoyed. 
“What?” you groan. “I thought you wanted this.”
His thumbs brush over the apples of your cheeks, demanding your attention. 
“I want you. In every sense of the word. If you make a bad choice tonight and it means you don’t like me anymore tomorrow, that is the opposite of what I want. I’m not saying no. I’m just asking you to think about it for a second.”
You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and attempting to steady your mind and see beyond the thick fog of lust. What you find is a (mildly surprising) complete lack of fear. You’re not scared, like you thought you’d be; you feel utterly safe underneath him, with his hands on you and his heartbeat against your chest. This is a kind of intimacy you want to have with him. 
Your eyes open to reveal his, close enough you can see the tiny flecks of green. And so much warmth. Everything about him is warm. 
“This is what I want,” you assert. “I promise.”
His gaze flits between yours for a moment, pulling the truth from your soul like he might be able to find an imperfection there. But you mean it—and he seems satisfied. He trusts you, like you trust him. 
“Okay.”
A sigh of relief never quite finds completion before he’s kissing you again. Immediately the fire is stoked once more, the heat between your legs getting warmer when he experimentally pushes his thigh against you. You breathe into the kiss, pressing down on him and surrendering to the unconscious rhythm of your hips. He lets that go on for a minute or two until you’re so distracted that you can’t kiss him back. 
Unexpectedly he pulls away, disentangling himself from your legs. You stammer in frustration until his fingers hook under the soft material of your shorts. “Hips up.”
Wordlessly you comply, succumbing to his gentle words and touch. He bows to kiss you as he slides the fabric down unhurriedly. Once the shorts are gone, he sits up, and carefully lifts one of your legs over his lap, gaze unabashedly glued between them. 
“Eyes up here,” you try to joke, but it’s steeped in self-consciousness and your heart is pounding. He manages, stroking the inside of your knee with a thumb as he leans down again. 
“But you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, before he’s kissing you again. “Just like I knew you would be.”
You whimper when his hand skates over your stomach, lower, and lower, and—
“Tell me one more time, sweetheart.”
Your plead is just as hungry and yearning. “Please, Spencer?”
It works for him. 
When his knuckles brush over your clit, you forget to breathe. When they barely skim your entrance, collecting arousal to drag back upward, your brain malfunctions. It is not enough, maddeningly so, but when he finds a careful, introductory rhythm, it’s immediately bordering on too much, too good. 
Your stomach tenses and you are surprised by your own sighs and hesitant gasps as you try to adjust to the feeling of someone else’s hand between your legs. 
“Does that feel good?” he murmurs against your lips. 
“Mhm,” you chirp. Slow but insistent circles elicit a cry that gets caught in your throat, melting into a hum. Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smile in Spencer’s voice. 
“You’re sensitive, huh?”
“S—sometimes.”
 He hums contemplatively. 
“Sometimes? Can you tell me about that?”
You can’t hardly think around those gentle movements of his hand, let alone speak. He touches you like you’re something delicate. It’s torturous and perfect. But you try to answer anyway, managing to keep the stammering to a minimum. 
“About what?” 
“I want to know what you think about when you touch yourself.” The smooth words in tandem with an incremental increase in pressure earn you first real moan. Timid and unpracticed, but very genuine. 
The answer comes immediately afterward; thoughtlessly and on a shuddering exhalation.
“You.”
“Yeah?” he smiles. “Good answer.”
Your eyes open fractionally to study his expression. You’d felt so much shame every time you’d imagined him in your bed late at night.
“Really?” 
“Really. And now look at you. Letting me do it for you.” As if to remind you, he speeds up the motion of his hand. On instinct you bring your fingers to your lips as you moan through a closed throat, partly to stifle the noise and partly because you don’t know what to do with the hand that’s not gripping the duvet. “Do you only touch here?” His fingers slide down to your slick entrance and your hips buck, mourning the loss of stimulation. “Or do you touch here, too?” 
You shake your head, breathing hard as he teases a finger around the soft place you’ve never really bothered to explore. “Never feels good when I try.”
“We’re gonna make it feel good, okay?”
You nod hesitantly, leaning back into the pillows when he kisses you again. 
His lips are so distracting, so intoxicating you almost forget what he’s doing until he does it. It’s a foreign sensation—not entirely pleasant or unpleasant. For a moment or two your brows furrow as you focus on the feeling, worried that maybe you’re broken just as you thought—until you feel a slight stretch and you realize he’s pushing a second finger into you now. A kiss lands on your cheek when you grab his arm with a choked gasp, and he mutters, “deep breaths,” into your ear. “I know it’s new, honey, just breathe.”
��Fuck,” you whimper as you look down, and you didn’t realize you were going to say it until it’s already passed between your lips. Pressure begins melding with the promise of pleasure, and something about watching his hand move between your legs—the tendons flexing and wrist bending as he eases into what is clearly a perfected motion—arouses you so much you moan at the sight alone. Flipping pages is all you thought that hand was meant for. It’s like a secret revealed as you watch it do something so salacious, and to you. 
A hot spark of pleasure flares deeper in you than you’ve ever felt. It catches and grows faster than you’d of thought—suddenly you can feel everything and it all feels better than you thought possible. Your jaw drops and a surprised huff of air blows a strand of your hair away. 
“Oh my god,” comes your breathy little whisper, unprepared for and intimidated by how good he’s making you feel. Filthy noises come from between your legs and you clench around his fingers. You had no idea you could make those noises. You had no idea you could get so wet. 
“Yeah, there we go.” His voice sounds a little further away now. You manage to tear your eyes away from all the action to his face. Much like you, he’s transfixed by the sight, brow furrowed and pretty lips parted in what could be concentration, or some sort of empathetic pleasure. His face has more color to it than usual and his breaths come heavier—it’s a very pleasant sight. Suddenly his fingers brush against a spot deep within you and your hips cant upward, a mewl pulled from the depths of your throat that has more control over you than you do it. Spencer’s eyes flash back to you, a grin playing at his lips. He does it again, looking right into your eyes, and you whine so pitifully your face flushes. 
“Too much?” he asks. You shake your head firmly, arching your back when he unconsciously slows down. At your response his fingers begin rutting into you again, committing to that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Of course not. You’re gonna take whatever I give you, huh?”
“Uh-huh,” you nod. You’d do just about anything for him right at this second. Spencer holds an immense amount of power over you in this moment, and potentially in all future moments moving forward. But you trust him with it. 
“You don’t have anything to prove to me. I just want you to feel good. You’ll tell me if it’s too much, right?”
But it’s really not too much. It’s exactly right. Your verbal capacity is acutely limited right now, so you can’t exactly say it, but you lock eyes with him and whine shamelessly, hips twisting against his hand. You think he gets the message. 
Hair falls over his face and he doesn’t fix it, opting instead to alternate his gaze between your cunt and face, cursing to himself lowly. You wouldn’t want him to stop and fix his hair—what you want is this, for him to keep pushing you toward that elusive edge and to keep looking at you like you put all the stars in the sky. 
“Look at you, my pretty girl. I’m so proud of you. I know this isn’t easy. I know you were scared. Thank you for letting me do this, honey.”
It’s the unexpected tenderness of the words, perfectly misplaced in the context of the moment. It’s the devotion, the honesty in his eyes, shining through the haze of lust, which makes your stomach drop and all your muscles tense. A million thoughts jumble in your head, dizzying and thrilling and confusing, but mostly all you can think is Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. Is this how it always is? Your hands tangle in the sheets—and then all the thoughts vanish. Everything is warm and fuzzy and sparkling clean, no worries, no lingering thoughts, no self-awareness at all. It’s nirvana. It’s revelatory. It’s ridiculous that he did this all in under five minutes and you haven’t been able to do it once even with very concerted effort. 
Slowly you float back into your body, breathing hard and watching through half-lidded eyes as Spencer gently pulls his hand away. Without him you feel weirdly empty and cold, like he should have been there all along. But his touch isn’t absent for long—he runs his hand over the bridge between your hips, little finger dipping into the crease of your thigh. 
“That’s never… I’ve never done that before,” you admit, slurring your words only slightly. 
His perfect features contort into a half-frown, half-smile. 
“You’ve never had an orgasm?” You nod. His head tilts. “Really? You didn’t tell me that.”
“When would I have told you?” you laugh, finding his waist with your hand and encouraging him to settle his weight on you. He does, burying his face in your neck and exhaling heavily. 
“Well?” you ask shyly, skating your fingers over his back. “Did I do it right?”
Spencer snorts, but presses a sickeningly sweet kiss to the curve of your neck. 
“Did you like it?”
“Yes,” you admit, voice smaller than you’d have liked. He pushes himself up onto his forearms and kisses you softly. 
“Then we both did it right.”
“But…” you stare up into his warm honey eyes, searching for any bits of hidden truth you can find. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, utterly unconcerned. “You know what I mean.” 
“I do,” he agrees, “and I’ll say this because I know otherwise you’re going to worry about it forever.” He studies your face reverently for a moment, before parting his lips to speak. The words are slow to come, like he’s trying to figure the sentence out as he goes along. “You… are going to be, problematic, for me.”
Your whisper is almost as small as you feel under his heavy gaze. “What d’you mean?” 
“I mean,” Spencer begins, voice low, “I think I liked that too much. Do you see why that’s troubling?”
The flame you thought had been quenched flickers back to life like a pilot light. Your thighs press together to alleviate a growing ache in a still sensitive area and you answer, “no,” with a small shake of your head. His thumb tenderly traces your jaw, ever-patient despite the fact that you’re obviously playing coy. 
“Because I can’t have you all the time.”
“Yes you can,” you say without hesitation, though your eyes are fluttering. “You can have me whenever you want. Right now.”
He hums, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 
“Not tonight. You’ve had enough. You’re tired.”
“I’m wide awake,” you slur, tangling a hand in his hair even as you lose the battle against your eyelids. 
He sighs good-naturedly, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist and brushing his lips over the delicate skin. 
“You’re shockingly precocious.”
You hum. 
“You just unleashed the beast. You’re like Doctor Frankenstein.”
He chuckles, sitting up and finding your shorts. You manage to be semi-helpful, lifting your legs at appropriate junctures as he tugs your clothing back on. “And you’re a nerd.”
“I don’t need to take that from you of all people.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Spencer says, and the smile in his voice makes you smile, a quarter asleep as he leans over to turn off the lamp on your side of the bed before tugging the covers over both of you. 
He pulls you close in the dark, releasing a deep sigh as you curl into him. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, his arms warm around you. You can imagine making a home for yourself here. And you don’t know if he’s thinking it, but you hope he is, as you are silently repeating to yourself with every beat of his heart;
I love you
I love you
I love you. 
4K notes · View notes
depresseddepot · 1 year
Text
I talked myself into a hole at work today because I explained an opinion poorly and then clarified poorly so I've decided my only chance at participating in society is to be stupid
#whenever someone directly asks me my opinion about something i just cannot lie and it puts me in so many bad positions#bc i am a queer leftist in a catholic conservative town so just abt every opinion i have they do NOT want to hear#so im thinking about taking up a new hobby: lying.#if someone asks me my opinion abt something i will say that i dont know enough to have an opinion regardless of how much i know abt it#it doesnt matter if they ask me questions about something i know up down or sideways#it doesnt matter if theyll think im stupid for saying i dont know a lot abt it#im so fucking tired of walking on eggshells at work and trying to be myself at the same time so ive decided i will just do neither#i am stupid. i dont know politics i dont know much abt queer culture i dont know much about feminism or abortion rights etc etc#i dont know enough about that to have an opinion#will they be able to tell im lying? yes. do i care? no. will they be able to prove it? absolutely not.#if someone says ''i dont know enough to confidently have an opinion'' what kind of jackass is going to be like#accusing you of lying or being actually confrontational about it. this is a win win#i can shut people up by not knowing what they're talking about AND i can avoid butting heads#bc if i was 100% honest abt my political opinions at my workplace i would have been (illegally) fired ages ago#im like. 5% honest and even that is getting me into trouble#ive gotta get out of this fucking town#but for now: i am unopinionated and slow. yes i am efficient at my job but its not like anyone can't tell im bad at socializing anyways#mouth: zipped#vent#to be safe idk
1 note · View note
nyancrimew · 5 months
Text
feverish ramble about tiktok and social media politics, probably not super well phrased so dont be too nitpicky about shit i said, but ive been meaning to put this into words for a while
i do think its kind of interesting (read: concerning) how tiktok is like the one social media site where everyone all across the political spectrum is so quick to somehow blame the company for opinions people have on the app, like there is massive groups of people having weird fringe shit opinions on tumblr and there is never really any calls to shut tumblr down over it. and even with youtube there is this certain nuance where people blame youtube for how it recommends right wing content so readily, but do not equate that with youtube being in on some sinister US government conspiracy or whatever, but when tiktoks (fairly neutral and overall not much more sinister*) recommendation system pushes fringe content to people (who usually interacted with similar content before) it immediately becomes a whole conspiracy theory about how china is trying to do x or y and how they are definitely doing this on purpose. rather than it being the same bad recommender as youtube which pushes divisive content as it creates engagement. like to be clear this isn't a defense of content any recommendation systems push, and they definitely need to be made more robust to prevent artificial polarization, but when it comes to actual suppression of content all social media sites do that sometimes (it's not like the US government never requests and does shit like that either lol, like try posting a link to ddosecrets.com on twitter, good luck) and im just tired of seeing misinformed blatantly sinophobic takes about tiktok from all across the political spectrum, like no forcing tiktok to be an american company instead wont change shit, if they do censor it would then just be at the whims of the US which is what they really want. * basically it comes down to the shorter form content making it way easier to forget about anything that shows up on your feed that you arent actually interested in as you just swipe it away, studies have shown no significant difference in youtube and tiktok recommenders
3K notes · View notes
ceilidho · 2 months
Text
prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 4; ghoap x reader) part 1, part 2, part 3 tags: dubcon/noncon, nsfw
-
Much of Ghost’s behaviour is reactive. Oddly passive for the assumptions people often make of him. He doesn’t run from trouble, but certainly he doesn’t seek it out. Aside from a few rare deviations from the norm (running his father out of the city at eighteen, not breaking enough bones to count as restitution, and finally leaving home to enlist), that remains the rule. 
The way Johnny mopes for days after parading his bird around base has Ghost nearly rolling his eyes, already exasperated. He should’ve known his puppy wouldn’t share well. 
It’s worse than he expected though. Johnny mopes for a week straight after the fact, hardly able to meet Ghost’s eyes in briefings. He stares straight down at the floor pathetically, dragging his feet behind him when he’s dismissed. Price notices it right away, raising an eyebrow at Ghost after Johnny leaves the room. 
“Trouble in paradise?” he asks, leaning back in his chair, hands folded over his stomach.
“In the dog house, I reckon. His girl’s pissed at him.”
“Your doing?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, sir,” Ghost replies smoothly, face giving away nothing.
Price is hardly convinced. “I’m sure. Nothing to do with you.”
Ghost doesn’t answer that. He waits until he’s dismissed and then takes off down the same hall Johnny just left, curious about wherever his boy’s slunk off to. 
He can’t help the latent sadistic streak in him that curls up in pleasure at the sight of Johnny pouting and squirming whenever he walks into the room. Still, his attitude will need to be rectified soon enough—there’s only so much Ghost will tolerate, only so much disrespect he’ll turn a blind eye to. One day Johnny will look back and reflect on this, and appreciate the extent of Ghost’s magnanimity. 
Still, he doesn’t enjoy being ignored. One week bleeds into the beating heart of the next and Ghost realizes that he’s had enough of the silent treatment. He’s given Johnny more than enough time to come to terms with their new situation. 
He tracks him down to the armoury on a Monday evening after most of the other soldiers have already left for the day, back home or eating supper in the mess hall. It’s empty apart from the two of them, and when Johnny finally notices his presence in the room, his eyes widen almost imperceptibly. He doesn’t flinch at least. Good boy. He’s gotten better at being less reactive, less shaky about being caught off guard. 
“Done for the day, sergeant?” He keeps it light to start, taking a step closer. 
Johnny tenses at the approach. “Yes, sir.” The title would usually satisfy on its own, but it comes strained, polite but removed. 
“Where’d you come from?”
“Layouts and gunners training, sir.”
On any other day, Johnny’s deference might come as a lovely note to end the day on, but not today. It rankles now, the edge of his voice sweetened by a kind of silent dismissal, not giving any more information than what’s required of him. Nothing like the boy who used to open his mouth and sing the world back to him. Ghost has earned his every thought. 
“We have a problem, Soap?”
“No, sir,” Johnny grumbles, still not meeting his eyes. His mouth barely moves when he says the words, teeth all but grit. 
No dealing with this temper tantrum like adults then. For all Johnny must carp and bitch to himself about the hardships that Ghost has put him through, he seems to have no desire to actually deal with the problem. That’s too bad. It would’ve been easy enough to talk it out like grown men.
They’ll have to come to terms some other way.
“Come. We’re fixing this attitude of yours now,” Ghost grunts, turning before Johnny has the opportunity to complain and marching down the hall towards the gym. 
He hears Johnny make a sound like an angry bull before following him down the hall. The loud footfalls against the tile floor betray his simmering anger; it reveals to Ghost what he already knew intuitively. His boy still needs to learn to play well with others. 
In time, this anger will fade into the ether, replaced by Johnny’s old doggish need to please Ghost, but it’s causing too many problems now to be tolerated. He hasn’t gotten to see the bird since the week before. Doesn’t even have a photo of his own to look at when he rubs one out. It would be less aggravating if Johnny were willing to spread his legs and let Ghost rut between his thighs, but they aren’t there yet.
The gym is empty as it usually is around early evening when Ghost opens the door, the lights off from whoever last used it. Johnny follows him sullenly, dragging his feet about it. Ghost’s eye ticks at the show of attitude persisting into this space.
“Lock it behind you,” Ghost says without looking back at him, crossing to where the mats are on the other side of the gym. 
Neither of them are dressed to spar, still clad in their fatigues, but his blood cranks up to boiling when he turns around to watch as Johnny crosses the room angrily, picking up steam now as well. He comes in hot, not even bothering to suss out Ghost’s first move before launching himself at him. 
Ghost staggers back a step at the hit, but he takes it in stride, shifting his weight and using Johnny’s momentum to throw him off, sending him sprawling. He’s quick to get back to his feet, but that moment of carelessness gives Ghost everything he needs. The next time Johnny throws himself at him, Ghost lets him get an arm around his leg and nearly grins to himself when he feels Johnny put all his weight into trying to flip him. 
He knows strength isn’t everything, but there’s something to be said about the several inches and even more kilos he has on Johnny. That plus a decade’s worth of experience. Sparring devolves into a sweat-slicked grapple, Johnny’s shirt coming untucked and rucked up, his hair mussed. He tries to go for the mask, eyes gleaming with a wet, savage glint—forgetting decorum or tact, and just going for the most underhanded maneuver. 
He pays for it when Ghost takes him hard to the floor, catching him with a leg sweep that he might’ve been able to avoid if he were fighting with a clear mind. Anger makes him sloppy though. 
“Fuckin’ bastard—” Johnny grunts when he hits the floor, narrowly avoiding clipping his chin against the mat. 
“Folks never married, so guess you’re right,” Ghost remarks, unbothered. Hardly winded even, only the lightest sheen of sweat on his brow, obscured by the mask. 
His sudden divulgence makes Johnny falter. So rarely does Ghost open even a crack that the momentary honesty catches him off guard, giving Ghost the opportunity to wrangle him into a tight hold. 
Pinning Johnny isn’t an easy task because the kid fights dirty when he feels cornered. Lashes out wildly with his fists when Ghost gets an arm around his neck and holds him in place, less precise than when he’s coolheaded, but still brutal, all raw strength packed behind his punches. He twists Johnny over onto his stomach when the boy tries to buck him off, slamming him down hard enough to knock the wind out of him.
“Gonna tell me what’s got you all riled up now?” Ghost asks, twisting Johnny’s arms behind his back to pin him in place. 
He struggles in Ghost’s hold, trying to find a weak point. The search is fruitless. Ghost’s body weighs him down like a boulder pinning him flush to a dirt-streaked mountainside, forcing the air out of his lungs when he presses down harder. 
“Ye cannae just take her from me—” he spits out, face flushed. He kicks out a foot, trying to free himself, but all Ghost does is shift slightly to press his shin to Johnny’s calf, holding it down. “I told ye she was different and ye had to—and now she willnae even fuckin’ talk to me. Barely texts me, willnae answer my calls. I cannae—I can’…” 
His voice trails off on a hitch. Not quite a sob, but a frustrated, wretched sound. 
“Held that in for a while, didn’t ya?” Ghost murmurs, holding Johnny down with ease when he struggles again, trying to wrench his arms out of Ghost’s hold. 
“I almost fuckin’—almost just fuckin’ gave her to ye,” Johnny says, shame thick in his voice. “Thought maybe it wouldnae be worth…jus’ dinnae want a girl coming between us. But she’s—I told ye, Lt, she’s special, I cannae jus’—I cannae jus’ let her go. And now she doesnae want anythin’ to do with me.”
Ghost doesn’t bother pointing out the absurdity of that statement. As if Johnny could give him something that’s already his. 
“Not trying to steal your bird, Johnny.” He taps Johnny’s cheek, a little reprimand. It makes him blink and scrunch up his nose. “What’d be the point of that?”
He forgets how young Johnny is sometimes, just now nearing the end of his twenties. Still wet behind the ears, all blood flushed and pink cheeked. Green still to the realities of the world and Ghost’s presence in his life (permanent, fixed; unchanging). 
There isn’t a version of him that wants someone who doesn’t also want Johnny. Inconceivable. After everything that they’ve been through together, the root of him and what he wants is inextricably tied with what Johnny wants—at times, Ghost almost wishes he could live inside his head, just a constant stream of Johnny’s thoughts into his. 
Johnny twists his head enough to glare over his shoulder at Ghost. “The fuck are ye on about? Ye grabbed her ass in front of God ‘n everyone, for Christ’s sake. Said your intentions loud ‘n clear.”
“‘Course I did. She’s got a nice arse, doesn’t she?”
“You’re really startin’ to fuck with my head, Ghost, I dinnae understand what ye—”
“You keep running your mouth off about trying to take the girl from you—I don’t need to take anything.” He stresses the word to be clear, forcing Johnny back down when he tries to buck Ghost off again. This time he stays in place, both calves pinned down to the mat, cheek pressed into the fabric when Ghost slots a hand into the scruff of his mohawk, forcing his head down. “Quit struggling—you’re not getting back up. We’re sorting this shit out now so you quit moping around base and giving me a fuckin’ headache.”
“Stop exaggerating—I havenae even opened my mouth around ye in days. I’m no’ doing anything to your head—”
“How the fuck am I supposed to think when you keep running away?”
The air hangs heavy in the wake of his words, the oxygen all but sucked out of the room. 
“The two of you are mine,” Ghost says in a low, harsh voice, the sound making Johnny flinch against the mat. “I’m not asking for just one of you. You’re out of your fuckin’ mind if you think I’d leave you out of this, mutt.”
He’d sooner lose them both, but that’s another scenario that he’d never tolerate. 
With some effort, Ghost tips Johnny over onto his back, holding him down before he can start to struggle again. He keeps his wrists trapped behind his back, forcing Johnny to arch his back off the floor, presenting himself. From his vantage point, it’s easy for Ghost to flick his gaze down and find Johnny’s dick pressed hard against the zipper of his pants, all plumped up from being pinned to the ground. 
“Good, you’re already hard,” Ghost grunts approvingly, rolling his hips down to alleviate some of the pressure building up in his groin. “Haven’t come since she left the other week, I bet.”
Panic flares red hot in Johnny’s eyes, widening when Ghost settles deeper between his legs, his own hard cock unmistakable. “Wait—wait, Ghost—I’m no’—I’m no’—”
It would be a stretch to say that anything softens in him, but a part of Ghost does feel for the boy. He’s been around Johnny long enough to know his persuasion—strictly women with the occasional appreciative glances towards some men. An appreciation he relegates to furtive, guilty glances, holding it inside of him like a nasty secret that he’ll never part with. Too riddled with Catholic guilt and the ease of just playing it straight. 
Ghost has no intention of making it easy on him though. 
He tries to imagine what it might be like if he were on the other end, but for him it’s only ever been cunts and Johnny and the bird. Now just the latter two hold any weight. 
His protests only last as long as it takes Ghost to unfasten their belts and zippers, fishing Johnny’s cock out first. The second his rough hand wraps around Johnny’s length, the words die on the boy’s lips, replaced by a choked off grunt. His balls are full enough to corroborate Ghost’s words—he probably hasn’t come since seeing his girl off the other day, too frustrated and upset to jack off, the ducts shut, working himself up into a frothy mess only for it to slip right out of his hands at the last second. 
Johnny’s eyes roll back when Ghost grips both their cocks in his fist, slicking his hand up with Johnny’s precome. Sweat sluices down the sides of his neck. He looks good with his tongue tied up in knots, thoughts emptying out through his ears in rivulets. 
Even with Ghost’s hand as big as it is, he can’t wrap it all the way around the two of them. Johnny’s come provides a nice glide though, lubricating the underside of his shaft when Ghost grinds up into his fist. 
It spurs him into a kind of ​​protolithic fervour, desperate only to come. The iron rich scent of blood and sweat makes Ghost salivate, eyes drawn to the tender skin of his neck, the flush now riding high, up and over his cheekbones. Lips bitten red, also swollen with blood. In a better mood, Ghost might indulge him, might roll up his mask and lick into the wet mouth hanging open deliciously, teasing him, but there’ll be time for that later. 
He slurs out Ghost’s name when he comes, Simon ripped from his lips like it was dug clean out of his soul. His come splatters across his belly and shirt in thin, watery spurts, the wind knocked out of him again. 
Johnny squirms when Ghost doesn’t let go of their cocks, hand still dragging up and down, mumbling that he’s too sensitive, fuck, lemme go, I cannae—
“I’ll stroke your cock and grab the bird’s ass whenever I feel like it,” Ghost growls down at him, at the end of his patience now. He pants out a ragged breath when his cock throbs at a particularly whorish moan dropping broken from Johnny’s mouth. “I’ll nut in her cunt and make you lick it out if I want. And you’ll fuckin’ thank me for giving you a taste.”
Johnny almost goes nonverbal at that, a leg trying to kick out weakly even though it’s still pinned down under Ghost’s heavy thigh. His dick twitches against Ghost’s, a valiant effort. 
When Ghost comes, it settles in a thick, viscous mess across Johnny’s stomach, pooling around his belly button. It radiates hot down his back, the ache in his lower spine abating momentarily. Can only imagine how much better it would feel balls deep in Johnny’s ass or the bird’s pussy, a wet warmth clutching him tight, legs wrapped around his waist to drag him closer. 
He’ll have that soon enough.
A ragged wheeze is pulled from Johnny’s chest when Ghost drags his cock through it, spreading it over his stomach. It’s worse when Ghost dips his fingers into the mess, a sticky blend of both their come, before bringing his fingers up to Johnny’s mouth, forcing them past his lips and over his teeth and gums. Johnny sputters at the taste, going cross-eyed to look down at Ghost’s hand. 
There’s no time for pillowtalk or soft words though. Even if there were, niceties come out of Ghost’s mouth like a ring of smoke. Still, the thought of the bird not returning Johnny’s calls or texts makes him bristle, his annoyance renewed. His own disinclination to communicate aside—a waste of words as far as Ghost’s concerned, he says more with his actions anyway—none of this works if the girl won’t talk it out. 
Probably pent up, the stubborn thing. He’ll have to sort that out too. It keeps him young at least. 
“C’mon, Johnny,” Ghost says, rising to his feet. He dusts his hands off on his fatigues as if nothing happened, then holds out a hand for Johnny to grab. “Let’s go see our bird.”
2K notes · View notes
fangirl-dot-com · 4 months
Text
Incorrect Quotes
all of these were from Pinterest - cause I'm not this funny (I also couldn't wait for the next chapter to come out so here :D)
Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are appreciated <3
TAG LIST IS OPEN! - 26 spots still open! (please send me a direct message to be added!)
Y/n: I’m cool Oscar  Y/n: I’m THEE coolest  Y/n: In fact, I was once arrested for being too cool *puts on sunglasses*  Oscar: The charges were dropped because there was no supporting evidence. Also, your glasses are upside down. 
Y/n: I have a very specific type  Max: Oh yeah? Like what?  Y/n: Y’know…polite, handsome, athletic…that sort of thing  Arthur (on his fourth energy drink of the day) tripping over camera wires and holding his mic upside down: you little shit eating, damned pathetic piece of shit – now you listen here  Y/n: *heart eyes* that one. I want that one.  Max: *flabbergasted* 
Lando: bet you’re standing in the corner because you’re scared that you’ll get turned down if you talk to anyone  Y/n: please, I could fluster near everyone at this party if I chose to  Oscar: oh yeah? Prove it. Go for someone borderline impossible and I’ll believe you Y/n, approaching Arthur: hey dumbass, hoodie looks kind of cute on you, wanna get out of here?  Arthur: WH- I MEAN- UHHHH YEAH SURE  Y/n: perfect  Oscar and Lando: 
Y/n: I brought a red bull  Max: I don’t want a red bull Y/n: I didn’t bring this for you. This is my red bull. Max: then why are you telling me?  Y/n: It’s a conversation starter.  Max: That’s a lousy conversation starter  Y/n: Oh, is it? We are conversing. Checkmate *sips red bull* 
Y/n: *gently taps table*  Logan: *taps back*  Alex: what are they doing?  George: morse code Y/n: *aggressively taps table*  Logan: *slams hands down* YOU TAKE THAT BACK- 
Lewis: Treat spiders the way you want to be treated  Y/n: Killed without hesitation  Lewis: nO!
Y/n: Is stabbing someone immoral?  Mitch: Not if they consent to it.  Max: Depends on who you’re stabbing.  Christian: YES?! 
Cop: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle.  Y/n: Shit  Logan: Wait, three?  Cop: yeah? Lando: OH MY GOSH OSCAR FELL OFF!! 
Max: Time for plan G.  Liam: Don’t you mean plan B?  Daniel: No, we tried plan B a long time ago. I had to skip over plan C due to technical difficulties.  Y/n: What about plan D?  Daniel: Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago.  Max: What about plan E?  Liam: I’m hoping not to use it. I die in plan E  Yuki: I like plan E. 
Christian: Did none of you think this was a bad idea?  *Y/n, Max, Charles, and Arthur covered in navy and red paint*  Y/n: Oh no, we all did. We just decided to do it anyway. 
George: (in sunglasses and newest Tommy Hilfiger jumpsuit) *in the most posh accent* I’m too good for revenge  Logan: (covered in bug spray, cowboy hat and overalls on, pumped full of Bang energy drink and high on freedom) *cocks shotgun* Well, I’m not. Give me the name. 
Arthur: So what’s your type?  Y/n: Kinda long blond hair, green eyes, dumb, dimples, funny, really thin waist  Arthur: Huh, that kind of sounds like me! Too bad its not me! Y/n: did I mention dumb?  Arthur: yeah, why?  Y/n: just making sure 
*Over Text* 
Y/n: Hey pretty boy, what’re you up to? :) Arthur: Eating cereal in bed  Y/n: And what would you be doing if I was in bed with you?  Arthur:…I would still be eating my cereal? 
Waitress: And what would you like to eat?  Y/n: I wish to devour the unborn  Fernando: Eggs, she would like eggs 
Y/n: Do you think that when sheep go to sleep they count themselves?  Lando: Or do they count humans?  Y/n: Ooo, that’s a good question  Oscar: GO TO SLEEP 
Y/n to Max: because I am a mature adult  *turns to see Mitch, Christian, and Vito shake their heads*  *turns back to Max*  Y/n: I am an adult 
*Dinner with Max, Y/n, Charles, and Arthur* 
Y/n: The food is too cute, I can’t eat it!  Max:  Charles:  Arthur: You’re cute, but I’d still eat y- Max: ONE DINNER  Charles: *sighs* here we go again  Max: ONE NORMAL DINNER IS ALL I ASK  Y/n: Charles, this pasta is also crunchy, I truly can’t eat this 
Ollie: Good night everyone  Arthur: Good night  Lando: Good night  Oscar: Good night  Y/n: good night. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite. Tonight, imma fight until we see the sunlight. Tik tok on the clock, but the party don’t stop  Oscar: I’M DONE
George (t-posing in the doorway): Greetings, parental figures and sister figure  *Y/n, Lewis, and Toto walking past*  Toto (not looking up from his coffee): Good morning, problem child 
Christian: You see, Fernando, Y/n is at the age where she only has one thing on her mind  Fernando (noticeably excited): Oh! Oh! Oh! Boys?  Max (looking over at the dead tired rookie with revenge in her eyes as she looks at Esteban): No. Murder. 
Y/n: Hey Liam, want some of this food?  Liam: Sure, thanks!  Yuki (storming in with the anger of the gods): WHO TF ATE MY LEFTOVERS THAT CLEARLY HAD MY NAME ON IT  Y/n: WE did  Liam: You surprisingly smart little mf
Y/n: Never have I ever…Been grounded by my parents!  Arthur (exasperated): Every time. She makes disownment jokes every time and she always wins  Max: Good one Kid. I always go for the ‘never had a dad who supported me.’ Charles: *stands up and walks away* 
Y/n: I’ve only said I love you to four people. Christian, Vito, Arthur, and Max when I thought he died after he wouldn’t respond after a DNF. I only regret one of those  Lando: Which one?  Y/n: Max. He was just pressing the wrong button and walked out a few minutes later. He made me look like an idiot.  Max: I let you win next race   Y/n: still
(Y/n, Logan, Lando, and George trying to sneak into RB for more energy drinks after being banned from drinking more) 
Logan: So what do you think Y/n will do as a distraction? Lando: She’ll probably, like, make a noise  George: Or throw a rock. That’s what I would do  *The door flings open and smoke follows. Screams of mechanics fill the air as they try to extinguish a small fire*  Logan:…Or she could do that. 
Y/n: When I die, donate my entire body to science  Y/n: Except my middle finger, give that to Esteban 
(max and y/n in a horror movie) 
Max: QUICK YOU’RE LOSING A LOT OF BLOOD. WHAT’S YOUR TYPE?  Y/n (bleeding out): tall, male, brown hair, dimples, caring, supportive, Monegasque Max: BLOOD TYPE DUMBASS  Y/n: oh  Y/n: (looks down at wound)  Y/n: red 
Lando: I wish we could block people in real life.  Oscar: Restraining order  Y/n: Murder 
Christian: Y/n, we need to talk about your professionalism for media days  Y/n (and a lot of media personelle she rounded up, all standing on chairs): those are some mighty brave words for someone standing in lava 
Y/n (to Max while hiding behind some tires – regretting everything): and then I called him dad  Christian (to Geri – trying not to cry while cameras are everywhere): and then she called me dad 
Max: Christian, look what Y/n got me for father’s day *holds up generic #1 dad mug*  Christian (glaring silently while sipping from his own #1 dad mug)  Max: that lying rookie Vito (holding a worn down #1 dad mug): you guys are late to the party suckers 
Criminals: We have your daughter and son  Toto: I don’t have a daughter and Jack is right here Criminals: then who just asked for warm milk and made us cut the crusts off their sandwiches?  Christian: dear God, you have Y/n and George
 
Mitch: So Christian, you and Geri want to be a parents again someday?  Christian: Someday? We’re parents right now.  Mitch: Y/n is your employee Geri: She is our BLOOD 
Christian: Max is late again  Kelly: I woke him up at 8 and pretended it was 11 Y/n: I wrote a fake schedule saying we were starting at 9 instead of 12 Lando: I changed his clock from AM to PM  Christian: I think you may have overdone it  Max (bursting into the garage): WHAT YEAR IS IT? 
Y/n: If I blended Red Bull, five hour energy, monster, coffee, and hot Cheetos into an energy smoothie...would it kill me? Logan: *shrugs* only if you die Y/n (getting out the blender): you're so smart Logan Max (running into the room): y/N STOP!
Lance: I got Netflix like you asked! Y/n: OH that's amazing! I've been mooching off Max's and Arthur's accounts for a while. This will be nice! Lance: Wait, what do you mean accounts? Y/n: Their Netflix accounts? Lance: Y/n: Like their profiles? I wanted one of my own, they're like $12 Lance: Lance:....Oh....You meant the account on the service... Y/n: Yeah, what did you think I meant? Wait...What did you buy? Lance: Lance:....Netflix...
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12
2K notes · View notes
cozmiccass · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
ᴍᴇʀᴄʏ
ʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ : sᴍᴜᴛ ☠︎︎
ᴀғᴀʙ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴏʟᴅᴇʀ!ᴍᴇᴄʜᴀɴɪᴄ!ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ ᴍᴜɴsᴏɴ
sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ : ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴀʀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋs ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ, ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇᴍᴀɴ, sᴇᴇs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴡᴇʟʟ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴏғ.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs : sᴜʙ/ᴅᴏᴍ ᴄᴏɴ, ᴏʀᴀʟ (ᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ғ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠɪɴɢ), sʟɪɢʜᴛ ɪɴɴᴏᴄᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ, ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, sᴡᴇᴀᴛ, ᴄʜᴏᴋɪɴɢ, sᴘɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ, ʙɪᴛɪɴɢ, ᴅᴇᴇᴘ ᴛʜʀᴏᴀᴛɪɴɢ, ғᴀᴄᴇ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ, ᴅɪᴄᴋ ᴡᴏʀsʜɪᴘ/ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ ᴡᴏʀsʜɪᴘ ɪɴ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ, ᴅᴇsᴘᴇʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴄᴜᴍ ᴘʟᴀʏ, ᴜsᴇ ᴏғ ᴀ sᴀғᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅ, sʟᴀᴘᴘɪɴɢ, ᴠᴀɢɪɴᴀʟ ᴘᴇɴᴇᴛʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ʙᴇɢɢɪɴɢ, sʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜsʏ, ᴀǫᴜɪɴᴛᴀɴᴄᴇs ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀs, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪs sᴇʀɪᴏᴜsʟʏ ᴊᴜsᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ, ɴᴏ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ʙᴏᴅʏ ᴛʏᴘᴇ/sᴋɪɴ ᴛᴏɴᴇ/ʟᴏᴏᴋs ᴀᴛ ᴀʟʟ.
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ : ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ sᴇʟғ ɪɴᴅᴜʟɢᴇɴᴛ... ʜᴏɴᴇsᴛʟʏ, ɪ'ᴍ ᴀɴ ᴀʙsᴏʟᴜᴛᴇ sʟᴜᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴏʟᴅᴇʀ ᴍᴇᴄʜᴀɴɪᴄ ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ. ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ sᴏʀʀʏ. ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴅᴏᴡɴʀɪɢʜᴛ ғɪʟᴛʜʏ. ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴅɪʀᴛʏ, ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ! ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴇɪɴɢ sᴀɪᴅ : ᴛʜɪs ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴅʀᴀғᴛs ғᴏʀ ᴀ ᴠᴇʀʏ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, sᴏ ɪ'ᴍ sᴏ sᴏ ᴇxᴄɪᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɪᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ  ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ : 7ᴋ
ᴄʀᴏss ᴘᴏsᴛᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ : ᴄᴏᴢᴍɪᴄᴄᴀss
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
   
OF COURSE YOUR CAR had to break down on the hottest day of the year. this was just your luck and honestly, you were tired of it. you just wanted something to go right, just for once! it was bad enough that you found out you were cheated on, so you had to buy a whole "new" car because your ex took the vehicle you bought together. this new one was a piece of shit.
and he was an even bigger piece of shit.
you stood by your broken-down rust bucket on the side of a barely-traveled-on dirt road right outside of your hometown of hawkins, indiana in a cute, little pink dress and flats. your hair was a mess in its updo and you were dying of heat exhaustion. you just needed someone—anyone to drive by!
you were just about to give up, so you started walking towards town because at least then you knew you'd be in the cool air soon enough. you got about five feet from your vehicle before seeing a dark blue tow truck that you knew was none other than eddie munson's turning down the road. he was the town's best and most affordable mechanic and he just so happened to be incredibly dreamy. he was a bit of a trouble maker and you found that to be downright tempting.
eddie was about fourteen years older than you, but you still knew about what he was known for. things that he probably wouldn't even think about doing to you, but you sure hoped he did. just about every week for the past two years, you would see him at the grocery store or family video, both of you making polite conversation, even going as far as light flirting and (you didn't know, of course) eddie would ogle your figure every time you'd walk away, always thinking about what he'd do to that 'innocent' body of yours.
eddie's truck was nearing, so with desperation, you used your hand to flag the truck down and your knight in shining armor slowed down to a stop.
he rolled his window down on his passenger side and with that signature smile, he leaned over his middle console to talk to you, "well, hey there, sweetheart. what's going on?"
his hair was pulled back into a low-hanging ponytail and he had a wife-beater tank top on. if you hadn't already been sweating, you would've been at that holy sight.
"my damn car broke down!" you huffed, " is there any way you could give me a lift home, mr. munson? i'll pay you," your bottom lip popped out as you looked at him. eddie was trying his best not to get worked up over your politeness, let alone the state you were in. your sweet clothing made it hard for his mind to stay clean. damn, i'm a pervert, he thought.
eddie had a crush on you too, but it kind of made him feel like a creep, so he never acted on it... unless you made the first move, of course. there was always a loophole.
"d'ya want me to take a look? i won't charge ya," his eyes were squinting from the summer sun, sweat beads rolling down his handsome face from the short amount of time the heat was pooling into his cooled truck.
you nodded gratefully and eddie pulled the vehicle in front of yours and got out. you could really see him then; his blue coverall sleeves from work were tied around his waist, covered in oil and other car fluids and a dirty rag was hanging out of one of his pockets. he looked damn good and you tried to get a good eye-full without being caught.
"first lemme see if i can just..." the hood popped open with a grunt from him and he took a quick look inside. "yeah, this is gonna be a minute. i'll have to take it up to the shop, sweetheart. but i'll run ya cheap, i promise." his eyes wandered down your body and you felt the heat rise both to your face and down to your core. thank goodness you were already very red from the summer sun, but surely you'd tell on yourself in other ways. that much you were sure of.
you were just thankful eddie had been out there when he was and you've had that silly, little schoolgirl crush on him for years, so of course you agreed without hesitation and waited eagerly in his air-conditioned passenger seat. he was surprisingly quick to attach your vehicle to his and met you in the truck.
the ride was filled with sexual tension that you weren't sure if you were imagining or not. his muscular, tatted arm rested on the middle console, daring you to touch it, but you couldn't bring yourself to do such a thing. you felt like you barely knew him, but the temptation was there all the same.
when eddie pulled up to your house, he made sure to take your number down and told you he'd let you know if there was any development on fixing it. you hoped that wasn't the only reason why.
"or if you wanna come by the shop and see me, i'll be there," you couldn't help but feel like a piece of meat dangling in front of a ravenous lion with the way he looked you up and down. you could practically see the drool coming from his cynical smile.
you didn't want him to leave yet, so you did what any logical, slightly horny person would do in your situation: talk him into staying. you look up at him through heavy lashes, and your voice comes out just above a whisper, "so how much do you think this'll cost me, mr. munson?"
when you called him that, eddie could barely contain himself. the way your little voice trembled slightly as though you were a little scared of him, but he knew better. he had known of your little infatuation with him, so he figured he'd shoot his shot. to hell with that previous statement of you making the first move. you seemed too shy, he'd have to give you a little... push, just a bit of pressure to your soft and vulnerable exterior.
a chuckle rose from his chest sending shockwaves to your cunt, "well, i'm not sure of the whole problem yet, darlin', but i'm sure we can figure somethin' out."
eddie was coming onto you; you didn't have to be a genius to figure that out. your bottom lip found itself between your teeth as you leaned against his truck checking him out again, this time with every intent of getting caught.
thankfully, he wasn't shy and played right along.
"you oughta' invite me in so we can discuss payment options though," his head nodded towards your house and a cheshire grin spread across his face, traveling right up to his sparkling brown eyes.
usually, you'd never let someone you'd hardly known in your house so quickly, but eddie munson would be the exception every time. so with an innocent smile, you nodded; the condition of your shitty car was no longer a concern to you as you eagerly dragged him through your front door.
as soon as your feet hit the entryway of your home, eddie made it abundantly clear what his motives were. the door slammed shut with your back against it, a rough hand wrapped around your pretty little throat. a tingly sensation rose up your body like goosebumps, but better. you leaned into his grip with no shame, wetness forming in your panties.
"and here i thought you were this sweet lil' thing, always tempting me with those bright eyes and pretty smiles." eddie's hold on you tightened only slightly, causing you to let out a shaky moan and your eyes to flutter open. his eyes flicked down to your lips as he licked his own, "i'm glad i was wrong."
"oh, i'm still very sweet, sir." you teased, smiling at the pressure he added to your neck.
he laughed darkly, a villainous grumble rising out of him. "and i fully intend to find out just how sweet you are, or maybe i'll just leave you here: pathetic and deprived."
you pouted dramatically, but you knew you'd get what you wanted just as eddie did. with his big hand still secured on your neck, he took his thumb from his other hand and pulled at your bottom lip, "open." he was going out on a limb here and seeing just what all you would do for him. he learned very quickly that he wouldn't be disappointed one bit.
even though you had never been one to follow rules, you believed you would follow this man to the ends of the earth. so your mouth opened slightly, never once breaking eye contact with the handsome guy in front of you. his rugged appearance made you that much more eager to please.
"wider." he yanked your chin harshly and you complied, your tongue falling flat. you knew exactly what he was about to do. "that's a good fucking girl," an ornery grin appeared on that beautiful face of his and then he spat in your mouth. "that's right, now swallow."
you closed your mouth and the warm substance rolled down your tongue and down your throat. it tasted of spearmint and cigarettes; you didn't know what you were supposed to expect from someone's saliva, but it had you questioning your sanity. you wanted him to do it again. and again and again. so you swallowed, just as you were told. like a good girl, his good girl.
a little spit dribbled down the side of your mouth and you were quick to swipe it up and suck it off your own finger. you felt absolutely filthy; swallowing a man's spit before even kissing him? you ate that shit up.
"mmm, i'm going to have fun with you," he intently gazed in your eyes and rubbed your neck almost lovingly, but you knew better.
then, eddie hastily picked you up by your plush hips and set you on your perfectly white kitchen island behind him, placing himself between your soft thighs. your cotton panties were already seeping.
"at any point during this, just say 'mercy' and i'll stop or change things up, okay? i want you to feel comfortable with me." your eyes widened as you just realized what you'd gotten yourself into. he slowly dragged a long calloused finger from the collar of your dress to the very end of the feeble fabric. his hand hovered near your core and he could feel the delicious heat radiating off of it.
you nodded your head hastily as you watched him, incredibly worked up. you just needed a little bit of friction.
"and if i'm gonna do anything, i need your words, okay? you're a big girl, right?" you nod your head again already too fucked out without him even doing anything.
"ah, ah." he turned to your sink to wash his hands before he defiled you. eddie munson might've been a pervert, but he wasn't gross.
"yes. i understand. words, mr. munson." your cheeks turn a bright shade of red. this was all very new to you, but you couldn't get enough of it. everyone always treated you as this meek, innocent person and you were not that at all. not really. you were thrilled it was eddie that got to find out firsthand.
"good girl, i'm gonna start touching you now, yeah?" his words came out breathy as he leaned back into your body.
"yeah," you nearly moaned.
eddie raised your dress above your head in one swift movement leaving you completely exposed minus the thing he wanted most. his index finger met the crotch of your underwear and moved them to the side. your core was throbbing in anticipation when he finally took two of his fingers through your slick, a quiet mewl leaving your mouth. his digits were covered in your arousal, so he brought them up to your mouth and you took them without him even asking. eddie reveled in this, a gruff moan escaping him as he watched you closely.
your tongue swirled around his fingers before sliding your mouth from his hand. you leaned back, elbows supporting your shivering body, legs thrown over eddie's strong shoulders.
"fuck, so needy, baby." another moan left your lips as eddie bit your shoulder before sending his two most middle fingers into you. they were precise and careful, knowing exactly what areas needed to be touched and how much pressure to put on your spongey spot. the curl of his digits was heavenly; stars clouding your vision along with a few tears from the intensity.
after a mere two minutes, you couldn't believe you were about to cum, "i-i.."
"shh, i know." his thumb joined in at the tip top of your cunt, circling that sensitive little nub with vigor. you came with a spasm of your entire body, legs shaking, your body nearly flailing off of the counter, a salacious scream leaving your sweet lips. "you did such a good job for me,"
eddie set your legs down with a smirk, "i need you to wrap your arms and legs around me, sweetheart." and so you did very obediently, your clothed cunt rubbed against the rough fabric of his clothing making you all the more hungry. he asked what direction your bedroom was in before taking you there with urgency; your heart pounded the closer he got.
this was actually happening and you couldn't believe it. all those years of pining after and dreaming of eddie munson, he was about to take you however he saw fit and you were going to let him.
he placed you on the bed and you started to lean up to kiss him, but stopped you with a hand to the top of your head, pushing you down, "ah ah ah, down. on your knees for me, baby." his gruff voice melted you down to your bare knees fully accepting the carpet burn soon to come.
you knelt in front of the beautiful man, gazing up at him like he had put all of the stars in the sky. just the thought of his dick in your mouth made your poor pussy quiver and your mouth water.  your hands reached for his coveralls eagerly, dragging them down his legs to reveal his erection secured loosely in his boxers. blue plaid. cute.
for someone who acted like he was in control, eddie sure was fucking losing it on the inside. seeing you all lovely and disheveled underneath him without his cock even being inside you made his ego way bigger than it should have been. he roughly ran his ringed hand through his unruly hair that wasn't in a ponytail anymore, looking up at your ceiling so he didn't bust right then and there.
your lips were pouty, skin glistening from the sweat, and god, he just wanted to fuck you up. make you forget your own name, forget his name even. he wanted to make you a puddle on the bed when he was done with you.
you took his boxers down to his ankles too and eddie stepped out of them in all his luster. a slight gasp came from your lips at the sight of him; pink, pretty and big. wasting no time at all, your mouth attached to his leaking tip. a slight swirl of your tongue and eddie had your hair in his hands, guiding your head down, down, down until he hit the back of your throat and groaned the most beautiful, guttural moan you've ever heard from a man.
"fuck, sweetheart, i just might have to make you mine if you keep taking me like the dirty little thing you are." he pulls you back and slams his cock into your throat, drool spilling from your pretty mouth. your humming only guaranteed his thrusts he started, the vibration encouraging him.
you wanted to be his so bad, you would gladly do anything he asked of you if it meant he'd keep you. just at the thought, one of your hands found its way to your clit and you couldn't help it, you had to have some sort of release.
he was salty from a hard day's work, but it made him even sweeter to you. you bobbed your head up and down, your nails were digging into his thighs as his rammed himself in and out. both of your hands came up to accompany your slick mouth, pumping his perfect dick. something about two hands on his cock made him come undone.
"oh sh-shit," you feel him throbbing and twitching and you take him out of your mouth, his white, hot ropes spilling all over your mouth, face and chest.
with your finger, you scooped up some from your cheek into your mouth, "mmm, so sweet, mr. munson."
eddie let out a staggered breath, "you dirty thing, you like my cum all over those pretty tits?" you nod. "yeah? i bet you like it in your mouth even more, huh? go ahead, lick it all up for me."
your hand sultrily dragged through the sticky substance, chest heaving from the filthy things you knew you were going to do. it dripped down your hand as your tongue lapped it up, making sure you were watching his reactions the entire time, those big brown eyes observing you so carefully, mouth agape, practically drooling himself.
you were so beautiful like this, on your knees, covered in his cum.
"i want you to take it all, slut." his bottom lip was between his teeth and you moaned. "are you my slut, baby?"
you nodded earning a firm slap in the face from him. the sting was bittersweet and you knew a handprint was sure to form, but you were more than okay with that.
"what did i tell you about using your words?" eddie's eyes grew dark, making you shiver in both excitement and fear. "try again. are you my slut?"
"yes, eddie, i'm your slut. i really am, i promise," your bottom lip stuck out at him, trembling. "i wanna have you inside me, all of you." you made intimate eye contact with his weeping slit. such a pretty cock.
a low snicker rose out of him, "not until you're all clean. can't have too dirty of a girl, can we?"
"no sir," you shook your head quickly. you licked up pretty much every drop of that yummy, gooey stuff before eddie decided to let you up off of your now carpet-burned knees with a harsh yank of your hair.
"such a good listener, aren't we? think i should reward you?" eddie threw you onto your bed on your back, a pathetic whimper coming from you.
"i've been so good, please."
"awe, and so respectful." he cooed and crawled over to you on his hands and knees, truly looking like a lion with that wild mane. you were his prey and you were honored. never have you been so infatuated with anyone, let alone a male, but damn, he had a way about him.
eddie sunk down to his elbows to kiss your bare thighs, his warm breath fanning over your skin causing goosebumps. with one sudden movement, he brought the back of your thighs flush to his shoulders again. only this time, he was going to use more than his hands.
eddie slowly took your panties down and off, flinging them somewhere long forgotten. he kisses up your thigh, right on a sensitive spot. you twitch because of the sensation; you had no idea you'd be so sensitive, but he had a hunch. he looked at you as a smirk crept upon his face.
if you weren't in such a compromising position, you'd smack that smug look right off his pretty face... but you were, so you just loved in it. his bouncy curls tickling the inside of your thighs, plush lips like clouds gracing your skin, rough fingers drilling into the squishy cellulite. you could live and die here.
well, maybe not before you got to feel eddie's cock burying inside you.
eddie came face to face with your pretty opening and blew lightly, the warm air earning a yelp from you. "you're already soaked, baby, did you get off making me cum? hmm?" a whine escaped you and he ran his finger through your folds. "you didn't even ask, did you? naughty girl."
truthfully, you hadn't even noticed, you were so preoccupied with making sure he felt as good as he made you feel, that it was even a surprise to you.
"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to... i just—please touch me, eddie," your legs slightly tightened around his neck.
thankfully for you, eddie was feeling generous tonight, so without another word, he took that lengthy tongue to your cunt. if you thought his fingers felt good, you weren't even close to prepared for the talent that man had when it came to his mouth. a flat stripe down the middle made you moan out before he took your clit into his mouth and sucked. not too hard, but not too soft. he flicked it around, side to side, watching your every facial expression. eddie wanted you to remember this for the rest of your life and damnit, you knew you were.
"you taste so fucking good, you know that?" your head fell back into your pillow dramatically when he licked his lips.
as he worked his tongue through your folds and up into your soaked pussy, your hands found a home in his curls, using them as reigns. a gruff sound came from eddie, making his nose bury deep into your clit and just... thank god for big noses.
eddie's face shook from side to side like a ravaged dog, your juices slinging all over his face. with another pressurized lick all the way up to your clit, he let go of your right thigh and brought two fingers to his mouth. the same two he used earlier that were still just slightly pruned.
a pop echoed through the room when he took them out of his mouth, "i'm going to absolutely ruin you, baby." the look in his dark eyes made your breath hitch in your throat, but his fingers in your cunt had you back to breathing heavy in no time at all.
with his fingers now inside you, eddie brings his saturated mouth back to your clit. circles and little figure eights, maybe even his name? whatever he was doing was working wonders. his non-dominant hand came around your legs to press onto your tummy somehow speeding up your orgasm faster than you had anticipated. the build up ever growing until you couldn't take it anymore.
"fuck, eddie. fuck! please, please, i wanna cum so bad," you were surprised you could even form a coherent sentence with how fucked out you'd become.
"do ya? do you wanna come, pretty girl?" he stopped giving your clit attention to look up at you. "do you deserve it, hmm?"
you felt like you could cry and you almost did. spite is what kept you going because you were a fucking brat.
"i do, i-i deserve it." the words came out breathlessly, barely audible to him, so he bit the inside of your thigh. hard. "ow!"
"i can't hear you, i need you to beg me. beg me for that sweet release, sweetheart. i know you can do it for me." the taunting was almost unbearable, almost, but it turned you on even more with his lips mockingly pouting and captivating eyes blinking up at you. he moved his fingers achingly slow along your g-spot as he watched your legs tremble on either side of him.
you were embarrassed, but you just wanted him inside you and if that meant pleading with him, you'd sure as hell do it.
"please, eddie... i'm begging you, make me cum, i need it, i need you." you were so overstimulated that tears were welling up in your desperate eyes and eddie was losing his mind again. he dove back into your clit with his unforgiving tongue lapping you up. his fingers pumped in and out, curling at the most divine speed and angle. you were floating.
you could feel the dam nearing its inevitable burst, a hot sensation coming from deep inside you begging to be set free. just as suddenly, it broke. you knew you were making a mess, but your body had gone limp long before your orgasm. how you were going to be any fun going further was beyond you.
a scream so pornographic left those satiable lips of yours. you felt yourself dripping down your things, but then you looked up at eddie... like an angel, he glistened with your sweet release, a devilish grin upon that sexy face of his. you could easily cum again at the sight of him. 
"i don't think i've ever come that hard in my entire life," you whispered to yourself and of course he heard it, a sly smirk appearing once more. your head fell back onto the pillow with a loud sigh.
"that sounds like a challenge, sweetheart. let's see if i can make those legs shake again." eddie took his fingers and sucked the slick off slowly.
"a-already?" your voice was shaky coming out. you sat up on your elbows and looked at the man in front of you with a very small touch of fear in your eyes. not that you were scared of him at all, but you thought you'd have some recovery time. apparently, that wasn't on eddie's agenda for the day.
"is that going to be a problem?" he crawled up your body leaving whispers of kisses, his dark eyes boring into your very soul. you gasped as he bit down slightly on your side, scraping his teeth across your skin and leaving a dusting of goosebumps.
"not at all, eddie..."
"mmm," he bit a little deeper, humming into your skin. his lips suctioned harshly, a deep red and purple bruise appearing in their wake.
eddie peppered a few more hickeys along your stomach and left a trail all the way to your breasts before taking the left nipple in his mouth. his tongue swirled delicately around the tip, leaving a little bite as he switched to the other tit. whichever one wasn't in his mouth was being fondled by his hand, twisting and pulling hard enough to make you moan out his name.
"fuck, say my name again," eddie tugged a little harder on your right nipple and your mouth formed an "o", silently screaming. god, you were just so stubborn. you couldn't just give him what he wanted after all that teasing he had put you through.
"awe, don't get all shy on me now, baby. i wanna hear that pretty mouth scream my name." he released your breast long enough to tease you before he was on them again.
"you might have to try a little harder than that— oh!" eddie sat up and ripped your body flush to his, the tip of his dick lightly grazing over your soaked center.
"you don't get to tell me what to do, sweetheart. you're here to listen." his hand wrapped around his cock and it made it look even bigger than it already was. he slapped the head on your abused clit a few times before running through your folds wet with creamy slick. you were trying so hard not to moan his name. it wasn't a matter of not doing it at all, more so a game to see how long you could hold it together. you did not have high expectations for yourself considering just looking at eddie munson made your thighs clench together.
eddie smirked as he heard the wetness each time he teased your entrance. "see, now i'm going to need you to beg for it," he stated plainly.
your mouth fell agape in slight annoyance, you were definitely over not having his dick in you. "just fuck me!" you tried to grab him but he slapped your hand and then your face.
"did i fucking say you could touch me? now lay back like a good little slut, would ya?" he positioned himself at your weeping hole and pressed slightly. "beg." his dark eyes glared at you through heavy lashes.
"no." you pushed back tauntingly.
"beg or i'm leaving." he was completely bluffing but you didn't know that. he wanted you just as much as you wanted him if not more.
"fine," a huff exasperated from you as well as a comically unenthusiastic, "please."
eddie barked out a rash laugh, "are you kidding? what the fuck was that?" his hand wrapped around your throat, "i said to fucking beg, beg for me to put you out of your misery, huh? beg me to destroy you like you wanna be." his voice was low and raspy and it had you clenching down on the nothingness in your pussy.
an inch of his cock entered you and just as quickly, it was out. "fuck! you're so mean!" you pouted as your hands gripped onto the bedsheets in frustration.
"no, if i was mean, i'd have left you at the door, baby." another chuckle came from him before he ran his tongue up your throat in a thick strip. the wetness being accompanied by the coldness of the air made your nipples turn pebbled.
"look at her down there, she's so lonely. don't you want me to fill her up?" a thick finger ran through your folds and sunk into your hole and you gasped. "or i can just keep barely touching you, is that what you want, you fuckin' brat?"
towering over you with your legs in the air, eddie let his spit fall from his mouth to your clit and rubbed it in. it didn't need the extra lubricant, but eddie liked watching you squirm under him from every single move he made. you made him feel so powerful. you finally gave in.
"eddie, please, have mercy."
his eyes grew the darkest you had ever seen them. you knew you were in so much trouble and you couldn't wait for the consequences of your actions. with your bottom lip between your teeth, you watched eddie sink himself into you. inch by inch he made you feel fuller than you had ever before. you squeezed him involuntarily.
"jesus christ," he whispered. "i thought if i got you warmed up, i'd go in easier, but damn sweetheart. tight little thing you got here," his rough thumb plays with your clit in the slightest. your cheeks flushed at his words, but he just relishes in the feeling of how warm and taut you are. "just suckin' me right in."
he threw his head back as he bottomed out and you let out a small squeak. you were scared to try to speak due to your brain being absolutely empty of anything but him.
"s-so fu—" was all you mustered before eddie pulled out and slammed the full length of his cock into you and you let out a scream. another slam and another. he was laughing and relentlessly fucking you into your poor mattress. your head spun as he pounded into you, the slick sounds echoing in that blank brain of yours.
"this pussy was fuckin' made for me, wasn't it?" he asked with a sly smile. your thighs were bouncing off of his making a loud smack! with every thrust.
"yes, yes, it was m-made for you," your head was shaking back and forth, eyes shut and your bottom lip now bruised and swollen from biting down so hard.
eddie then crossed your legs against his chest making you tighter for him, a little rag doll for him to use and abuse. you could feel yourself start to topple over, his dick caressing your sweet spot flawlessly. you let go without a noise; your head was thrown back and you clutched his hands that were gripping your hips.
"atta girl, how many more can you give me?" his grip tightened again, fingernails digging into your plushness and causing your breath to hitch in pain. you fucking loved it.
"more, please?" another pathetic whimper came from your mouth and eddie just wanted to slap you again, but you were using your manners like he asked.
"you want more, baby?" he roughly flipped you onto your stomach. "on your hands and knees." his hands guided you and put a pillow under you. "now relax."
and so you did. your ass was in the air and you took a deep breath before a hard smack came across your ass and you could feel your skin rising and burning from the welt that was forming. a few more strikes had you pleading and whining under him before he finally decided you'd had enough(hardly).
nails scratched down your back as he leaned down and growled into your ear, "you want it rough, sweetheart? is that what you want? someone to put your bratty self into your rightful place: under me?"
"y-yes, please! please, eddie!" he lined himself up to your entrance again, slamming into you. his large hand clamped over your mouth and pulled your back to his chest. a bite to your earlobe distracted you before he mercilessly drove himself into you. slick and wet sounds filled the room once again, sweat clinging to both of your bodies. you had never felt so used in your life.
eddie shoved you facedown into the mattress, his veiny cock sliding in and out with grace and purpose. your hair was soon balled up into his fist stinging, making you lightheaded and seeing spots in your already fuzzy vision. your moans grew shorter and louder with each thrust, knowing you were coming undone yet again.
the slight curve of eddie's dick hit your g-spot just fucking right over and over before he reached down and his adept fingers went to work on your already throbbing clit. eddie would admit that this particular position was not the best for that, but he made it work. and holy shit did it work.
with a loud moan/scream and some intense body shakes, you came all over his cock and lost all movement for a few minutes. your legs and arms tingling—even your face felt like pins and needles. you had never felt such pleasure from someone else, or even yourself for that matter!
luckily, eddie was nice this time, giving you some time to recover before his decided final go. he was proud of himself; for an older man, he had quite the stamina.
he laid you on your side, rather gently for the previous actions, and spooned you. his dick was digging into your back, wet from your cum and arousal. in one swift motion, he slid himself into your slick folds not entering you just yet. he wanted to tease a little. the tip of him nudged at your clit deliciously.
"you ready, baby?" eddie's breath hit your ear and sent pleasant shivers down your spine. he definitely noticed and loved the reactions he got from you.
"yes, i'm ready, please, fill me up!" you sobbed pathetically.
"fuck," he lined his head back up to your seeping hole, slipping it in with such ease.
you thought the other positions were good? this was your favorite by far. the intimacy as he held you close and slowly slid in and out of you felt like he might actually call you after this.
one hand held tightly onto your waist while the other was tangled in your hair, pulling ever so slightly. it was more like he was playing with it than anything. a sweet kiss was laid under your ear and you moaned quietly.
he yanked your head back by your hair suddenly and his breath tickled your ear, "come on, sweetheart. you can do better than that, be louder for me, huh?"
a harsh thrust made you scream; a yelp was let out with every slow drag of his dick against that spongey spot. you knew your eyes were rolling back into your head. it was so intense and you never wanted it to end. eddie, cocky as ever, couldn't contain his sly smile as he continued to slide into you.
such a mess was being made and you couldn't be bothered to care, where on the other hand, eddie was laughing coyly in your ear. he was so proud of himself for making you come undone.
"atta girl, gonna cum for me one more time? make a big ole mess of me, hmm?" eddie sunk his teeth into your neck and sucked on the spot he found earlier knowing it would make you lose all control(like you even had it from the beginning).
your cunt squeezed him tight while you came, throbbing all around him. your walls closing in on him had eddie swearing into the crook of your neck.
"fuck, fuck, holy shit... where?" he was biting your shoulder again, trying desperately to hold out.
"i'm on the pill, eddie," your voice came out cracked and weak, completely fucked out.
without needing any further explanation and one last drive into your abused cunt, eddie came with a quiet but husky moan and you don't think you'd ever heard anything more fucking sexy.
you two lay in that position for a moment; his chest was slightly sticking to your back every time he exhaled and your legs were intertwined. when he finally decided to pull out of you, you got sad. you had no idea what this meant and you already missed his touch. no doubt you were an absolute goner.
eddie left the room for a while, putting his boxers on before. when he came back, it seemed he had made himself right at home. a glass of water and a warm rag were in his hands, a small smile graced you as he leaned down to give you the water.
"figured you'd need this. you're all tuckered out, little one." his eyes were a vast contrast from ten minutes ago. once hungry and lustful pits of black were now kind and gentle brown orbs searching your face for regret or fear. to his surprise, all he found was pure adoration and maybe a touch of something else.
"thank you..." you whispered as you sat up and took a grateful drink. cool water flowed down your throat and soothed the hoarseness from the noises that came out of you prior.
"here," eddie took it out of your hands when you finished and gently turned you to your back and spread your wobbly legs. "let me take care of you, okay?"
the way he looked at you with concern had your head spinning. the warm rag glided against the plush of your things and up capturing all of the mess you two had made together.
"why are you being so nice to me?" you didn't mean for it to come out like that, but it did.
eddie looked taken aback, but he understood why you were confused. "just because i'm rough on the outside, sweetheart," he paused to kiss up your thigh. "doesn't mean i'm rough on the inside."
a wide, genuine smile invades eddie's features and yours alike. he looked down to your lips and then back up to your already pleading eyes. the urgency with which he grabbed your face and pulled your lips to his was impressive.
the kiss was softer and longer than you had imagined it would be and it was the best kiss you ever had. no competition.
he lightly tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth when he finally decided to pull back from you. your face was still in his hands as he touched your noses together softly. he was looking into your eyes so intently that you felt like you needed to hide, but you trusted him for some reason.
"so you think you'll call me after this?" you laughed lightly, still trying to figure him out.
"oh, hell yeah. i gotta get that shitty car fixed up for ya'!" he laughed and you smacked his arm.
"but no, seriously, are you kidding? you think i'm gonna let you go after all the filthy shit we just did? you're mine now, baby."
a squeal left you as he pulled you down the bed to plant another passionate kiss to your lips.
"besides... i've seen the way you look at me. you couldn't leave me alone anyway," he smirks at you with annoying confidence.
"me? why do you think every time you've seen me, it's been in something small and skimpy, mr. munson. you're a dirty man, i know how to reel you in."
a groan left his mouth and he threw you back on the bed, "oh, you're gonna pay for that, sweetheart."
 
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
ahhhhh!! it's finally done. jesus christ.
i started writing this in august :,)
sooo, merry early christmas, i guess (> u &lt;)
i'm thinking about a part two? lemme know!
also, thank you all so much for sticking with me ❤️
i appreciate each and every one of you!
-cass
1K notes · View notes