#im not gonna even say it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inkskinned · 4 months

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the problem is that being single is seen as the consolidation prize, and not the natural neutral state of being-a-person. at the end of the movie or the book or the poetry, there is a person waiting for you at the altar, and they love you. if the play is a comedy, everyone gets married. the metaphor is about how you are not-whole. the metaphor is about how everyone is going to be happily-ever-after. the metaphor is that romantic love is the most important resource on the planet, not just all-love. all-love is not a thing, that is a disappointment. the treasure is not the friends we made along the way. the treasure is the girl you landed.

the metaphor is that you cannot be alone, that means you are broken. are you getting over someone? that is acceptable, you can be getting over someone, but not for long. you must be single because you would rather not be single. you must be single and looking to not-be-single. you must want to date, eventually.

friendship and community are never seen as being equal-to or even-better than romantic connection. that person is your one! you need to find them. you need to hunt through the sand particles until you can shift out some kind of gem. this is regardless to your own experience of the beach and the sun. you need to be somewhere with someone.

if you are taking this time alone to heal, that is so sad. everyone gives you this little pitying look. the understanding is that you are not actually happier than you were before you were single. it is seen as a sort of pity - oh, you are choosing yourself, making yourself the priority? - that isn't quite right. you must mean that you are making yourself ready for the right person. you are just laying the bed better this time. open up your heart. you'll find them, we promise!

what do you mean you're really-truly genuinely-very happy? you are probably misremembering what it was like to be in a relationship. and besides, once you meet your person, that time will look grey and bland and wasted. your person is the only way for you to see in color. so what if you have taken this time - for the first time in your entire life - to actually-for-real do the fucking work. you can be proud of yourself, sure. but the way we need to know that you got better is that you get a partner. you're healed enough for the next bad part!

people don't choose to be single, they just say they're choosing to be single - they actually mean "nobody wants to date me." it doesn't matter how many people you have gently rejected or how many times you've talked it over carefully in therapy. what matters is that you are single, and by all accounts - that means you are something worth our pity. your successes and life all seem pale in the sunlight. sure, you have done amazing things and finally found your way in life. what matters is that there wasn't a person in the room with you while you did it.

you want to tell them - that's the whole thing. i didn't know how to be alone in the room. i didn't know how to handle the silence. every moment was so sharp, and i kept choosing the wrong way to close the door. i have spent my entire life in the empty well, living in the ricochet of someone else's cruelty. for once i have built myself a ladder. for once everything i taste is all mine, every bite of sunshine and laughter. i have learned how to sleep out in the open with my memories. recently, they have started to purr.

your father rolls his eyes. listen. this isn't about you. i just want a grandchild in my future.

#writeblr #i actually didn't want a girlfriend before nat #and my dad recently said to me - raquel. i don't approve of the promiscuity #1. i am 30.#2. i had casually dated about 4 people over 18 months.#3. i do believe he was just mad that i get more girls than he ever did #i had to look this 60 yr old deacon in the eye and say. okay so i have a girlfriend first of all im just not tellin yall about her #and secondly.#OKAY???? OLD MAN I DONT EVEN LIVE HERE WHAT ARE U GONNA DO ABOUT IT #briefly considered asking nat if i could pretend we were a one night stand kind of a thing

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plush-rabbit · 10 months

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Hole in One

I promised nsfw of him and here it is:)

Word Count: 3K

A/N: I saw art where he has like these fucking tendrils come out of his face hole and I needed that<3

Jonathan has certainly changed after the Super-Collider. Not only was his appearance affected, with his body elongating and compressing, but also features disappearing. However, his personality was also altered. He’s become more possessive, and clingy. He hardly ever allows you to leave your home during your days off. Sure, you have to go and buy groceries and run your errands, but he needs you.

If you were to be honest with yourself, you like being needed. You adored the attention that he was giving you. You thrived under it, knowing that you were the one that he cared so much for.

So when you come home and he calls for you, touching and rutting against you while you sit on his lap, you roll your hips, feeling yourself leak arousal. It’s been too long since you’ve had any sort of intimacy with him that led to sex. Most intimacy ended right before it got physical, and you knew that would be an issue- he was still insecure about his body- you only had your fingers to pleasure yourself in the shower. Now that he has you on his lap, rutting and whining about how nice and sweet you are to him, you want nothing more than to have anything of him inside of you.

You press your lips to kiss against his jawline, peppering him in soft kisses and letting your hands cup over his chest. His hands find themselves over your hips, going under your shirt to feel your skin. “I gotta say,” you mumble, “I miss your nipples.” He hisses out your name and you smile as you kiss down his neck. “It’s true. You were always so sensitive-” the pad of your thumb swipes over where they should have been- “always whined and buck when I’d twist them.”

“I wouldn’t whine,” he mewls, looking down at you. Pinching softly as the skin on your stomach, he tilts his head. “I miss being able to kiss you.”

Smiling softly, you press a kiss on the edge of one his spots near the collarbone. “I tried not to bring it up before, but you’re um, kinda flat down there.”

“Huh?”

“You’re missing your dick, Jonny,” you murmur, rimming a hole with the point of your index finger.

“Oh um-” he clears his throat and the spot on his face divots at the top- “it's in a hole.”

Your brows furrow. “What?”

“Watch.” His hand shots down to his middle, and between the small space that you’ve created, his knuckles bump against your crotch. You roll your hips against his knuckles and he’s polite enough not to say anything. Oh, it really has been a while since you’ve had any sort of action. You watch as a spot forms, swirling and dark, little lines of it rippling around, and you blink and suddenly, you’re staring at his cock.

With a watering mouth, you realize that it really has been a while. “Fuck Jonathan,” you mumble, trying to keep yourself composed.

“Good or bad?” He asks, uncertainty and insecurity twisted into his words.

Having to peel your eyes away from his cock, you look up at him. “Mind if I blow you?” He nods rapidly. “Cool.” You kiss at the edge of the spot on his face.

You sit on your knees, your hands pushing against his thighs to spread his legs. Appearing from the hole, the cock springs upwards, pure white, lacking any kind of spots. There’s a bit of coloration- a light gray that you wonder if it’s supposed to be his own coloration except in monochrome, or if it's blushing. From the hole, his package also exits the spot, resting over the edge. The spot itself is perfectly shaped for him with dark swirling lines around the edge of the hole, but there are no gaps- not an inch of room for you to rim and poke around.

“You’re bigger than before,” you say in a whisper. Moving closer to his erection, you press your face against it. “A lot bigger.” You can feel your cunt twitch at the thought of him going inside of you.

He’s looking down at you, his spot dilated and swirling. “You uh- like it?”

It really has been a while for you. You don’t even want to answer him- all that you can think about it putting him in your mouth. His skin is different than before, almost like a latex feel- or rubber. You aren’t entirely sure of the proper comparison but at the moment, it doesn’t matter.

Pressing a kiss against his cockhead, you pull back, swiping a tongue underneath his head. Other than the color and stretched size, it looks exactly like his did before- down to the vein on the underside, the soft curve to it, and the leaking head. You grab at the base of his cock, and he mumbles your names, hands lifting weakly before they fall back to the bed with a thump. Your tongue peeks out and you swipe over the slit, tasting the semen on your tongue.

It still tastes like him.

Oh, you’ve really missed him.

“Can you-” he falters with his sentence- “Please,” he begs.

You open your mouth to him, pushing yourself midway, already feeling his cockhead hit the back of your throat. He’s much longer than before. Pulling away, a thin sheen of spit covers him. Your hand wraps around his base, pumping him, and you return to him, feeling his thighs jolt at the touch. Taking him into your mouth, you can feel how hot and heavy he feels, and he leaks into your mouth, and you greedily swallow it all.

There’s never been a stronger want than now. You need him. You worship him, suckling him and hollowing your cheeks, desperate as he is to make him cum. Your jeans rub against your crotch, and you can't think how his heavy scent fills your lungs and makes your mouth water. Unbuckling them right now is the least of your concerns when you can just rut against the friction with the thick material. Pulling his cock off of your mouth, it bobs and taps against your face, leaving your spit sticking to your skin. You watch in awe as it reaches well past your face. Even thinking about it going inside of you makes you want to skip the foreplay and just put it in. The sting of it might actually be worth it.

Pushing yourself back against his cock, you take him again, shivering at how thick even his pre-ejacualtion is. Oh, your poor Jonathan- too pent up for who knows how long. You;d make up for lost time, you’re sure of it. You won’t let go of his cock until the both of you are spent and even then, you’d want him to be buried deep in your cunt, stretching and hitting deep at your core. You moan against him, the thought of him filling you with his seed and keeping it inside of you makes your cunt throb.

Your jaw almost hurts with how you have to push so far down, choking and spit dribbling in the corner of your mouth. But he sounds so good, moaning and panting your name with his hand holding onto the crown of your head. You focus on slurping him, suckling on his cockhead like it would produce you milk, moaning and rubbing yourself against the seam of your pants while he jerks and moans.

He calls your name, broken and low, his hand fisting into your hair. “I’m gonna- Fuck!” He tilts his head back, bucking his hips into your mouth, his cockhead pushing against the inside of your cheek. “Your mouth- I fucking-” The sound of you gagging echoes in your ears, and you can feel strands of spit spill from your mouth.

Your hand grasps onto his package, massaging and rolling the pair around in your hand. It feels so heavy in your hands- burning and weighted with pent frustration. Adjusting him in your mouth, your lips circle around the middle of his cock, his seed spilling and filling your mouth. It’s thick, and gooey, resting flat on your tongue and when you lean back, spills past the corner of your lips. Looking up at him, there are tears in your eyes, and your mouth closes, swallowing the seed and letting it burn down your throat.

As you stand, you can feel how slick your underwear is. It slips and sticks and you need to take off everything. You’re too hot- too aroused to even want to consider giving him a show, but as he looks at you, his cock stays erect, twitching as a gossamer string of cum hangs and drips onto the floor.

Your clothes fall into a pile and he’s looking at you with his spot swirling and erratic, and you can’t help but smile. Oh, that has to be a good sign. There’s fleeting spots of gray that stretch over his face, and you’re pulled on the bed.

Laying on the bed with your legs bent, you watch as he dips his face down. The hands on your legs squeeze, and you suck in a breath through your teeth. You can feel his face nuzzle against your thighs, soft little upwards strokes that lead down to your cunt.

A hand lets go of you, and you wait, and wait, the anticipation killing you and making you throb. You think about calling his name, wanting him to do something other than just stare at you. Something wet slicks against your cunt, and you yelp, body lifting and skin crawling with goosebumps. It’s wet and feels slimy- a feeling that you aren’t totally opposed to. His tongue- you think it’s his tongue- slides around your cunt.

“I’m sorry! I just- I wanted to try- Are you okay?” He peeks his head up from between your thighs.

“I uh- No, no. That was just a surprise. Keeping going,” you say breathlessly.

Your hands fist into the cover and you feel him lap at your cunt. It oozes over you, thin and viscid, snaking down the inside of your thighs to the bedsheets. You buck your hips. Gasps and moans fill the room, and you need him to keep going. His tongue zigzags over your cunt in fat strides, the point of it liking upwards around your hardened clit. Your hands find themselves at your breasts, pulling and twisting at your nipples.

He does such a good job with whatever he’s using.

“Fuck, Jonathan!” You yelp, lifting your hips when something else laps at your cunt, when something smaller and thinner teases at the edge of you, dipping in to feel you clench around him, but pulling away with ease. “No- Fuck, inside, please,” you moan, bucking your hips.

It doesn’t feel like it’s his hands, and it can’t be his hands because they’re holding your thighs, stretching and pushing them away. You don't have much time to think about it when your clit is rubbed with the flat of his tongue.

Something wet is against your crotch and you aren't sure what it is, it feels like it's a lot- thick and slimy. You grind against his face with stuttering hips and a twitchy cunt. Wet, clicking sounds fill the room, his tongue working you into a frenzy, scuttling around your heat, and his face buries deeper as if he can’t get close enough, as he has to be in you- or you in him considering how his holes work. He eats like a starving man which isn’t completely untrue- and he’s simply lapping and swiping at your sex.

Gasping and panting, you keen at how close you are, and in what is the cruelest he has ever been, he pulls away. You look up to see something slither back into his face hole, and he’s shining in your arousal, and his spit.

Your face is flushed and eyes squinted in frustration. “Jonathan,” you wail, a hand shooting down to finish the job yourself. Except a hole stops you, and your hand shows up on the other side of the room, reaching for you, and grabbing for nothing. “Jonathan-”

“I wanna feel,” he says, grabbing at the base of his cock, and swiping it up your cunt. His head touches at your clit, and a jolt causes you to arch your back. He slides it back down and his cock enters you. You pull your hand back, fisting when you feel him.

His hands find themselves back at your legs and he bends them, letting your cunt stretch and you feel him push further into you. Hands grips below your knees, and your hands bend to rest beside you. His thrusts are heavy and strong, and he’s bent over, looking into you as you whine and writhe under him.

Frantically, he’s burying himself deep, and you can feel it all- every twitch of his cock, the way that it stretches and makes you want to cry that it’s far too much, but you’re unable to speak, too lost on the feeling of him finally being inside of you to actually think clearly. He ruts into you, and you stare at the hole in his face. He’s so much bigger than he was before, towering over you, having to hunch himself over to keep you at face level. He’s unforgiving, whimpering and cursing under his breath. He bullies your cunt, and it’s clear that he really needed this- that he needed you. You can hear soft gasps, and moans that sound deep and strained, and you think you see his hole twitch and spasm when you call his name.

“Jonathan,” you mewl, tilting your head backwards. “‘S feels so good.” Your words are simple, mind hazy and muddled as the man before you slams his hips against yours. Sex is nothing like it was before, and you think it has to do with whatever built up pressure the two of you have had. You arch your back, your body shaking and squeezing against him as an orgasm crashes through your body. “More, more,” you plead, your hands reaching to grasp at his forearms, clawing at his skin. You don’t now why you waited to fuck him- you wouldn’t have if you knew that he was this needy and pent-up.

The spot on his face is enlarged and swirling. Staring it feels too much- like you’re going to get sucked into it and never come out. You wonder if his holes feel good too. Reaching a hand, you swirl it around one near the crook of his elbow. He thrusts into you sharply, groaning and bending his head down.

“You feel so good,” he laments. Something jolts inside of you- he sounds off, echoey and deeper. “Love how you feel.” he thrust into you and you gasp, fluttering your eyes close as he bullies your cervix. Through fluttering blinks, you watch as his jolts and the spots stretch over, almost encasing part of his shoulder in black. You wheeze and close your eyes when he pushes himself deeper into you. “‘S all mine.” You feel something wet drip on your chest and when looking, it comes out of his face hole in thick, dark drops. “I wanna be deep inside of you.” He speaks in a guttural voice as he rocks his hips into you.

There’s a knot in your stomach that tightens with every thrust, and you whine and moan, twisting and jittering as he pistons into you. You can’t bring yourself to speak, only moaning and wailing the closer that you get, the more that he fucks you in a way he hadn’t before.

“Never wanna let you go.” You return the sentiment by clamping around his cock. “I wanna fuck you,” he slurs, giving short, quick thrusts into you. “Fuck you till you’re full.”

His spots swirl and move and the way that he speaks isn’t his voice, but an echo of it, devoid of emotion, only hunger and possession that lays mixed into the vowels and constants. You really do think you’re going to be sucked into him with how serious he is.

Your body shakes and stutters as you reach your high, clamping around his cock, whining and clawing your nails into him to keep him close to you.

“Where?” He asks, his voice melding to sound more like him. “I wanna- Where?” He calls your name, weakly and shakily pushing himself inside of you. His body jolts and twitches, the hands on your squeezing and scratching your skin. “Can I cum inside?” He lowers himself, resting his forehead against your own. “Please. I wanna so bad,” he mumbles.

“Inside, please,” you mutter, reaching up to kiss at his skin that burns under your touch. “Wanna feel full.” It’s enough to set him off, chasing his high, fucking you through your own. You squeal, legs twitching and body feeling as if it's on pins.

Even as he reaches his high, he doesn’t relent- his thrusts get sloppy, but they still hold the heaviness to them. It’s like he’s making sure that when he spills into you is going to be too buried inside of you to even leak out.

Past the twitching and calling of your name, he lets his cock warm inside of you, pulling out with a groan as if leaving you is too painful to even do. He lays beside you, his cock twitching against his thigh, leaking a thick cream that can barely be distinguished from his own skin. He takes heavy breaths, fingers dancing over the bedsheets in an attempt to calm down.

You turn over, resting your hand over his. the middle of your thighs feel wet, and sticky. It leaks down and leaves a trail of warmth. His spots are smaller, back to his regular size, and while they move, they aren’t as erratic as they were before.

“That was good,” you tell him. “Fuckin’ good.”

“Mhm,” he agrees with a high-pitched voice. “Really good,” he agrees in a breathless voice. “Think we can go again?”

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