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inmydeepestdreams · 1 year

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I have been friends with Nate since we were kids. Our moms were friends, so it was pretty much destiny, or something.

We have the same interests, the same friends, hell, we even have the same taste in girls. He was totally supportive when I told him I was bi, he is the person I trust most in this world.

It made sense for us to go to college together, so we did. We found out our university allows for mixed gender room assignments. And while our parents weren’t crazy about the idea, we filled out the paperwork anyway. We’ve been rooming together ever sense.

Now it’s the end of our sophomore year, and we’ve been talking about getting a place together off campus.

“If we had some other friends maybe we could afford it,” Nate complained, and he was right. We had met many people since moving to our college, but have somehow made no lasting friend ships. We haven’t even had much luck dating. The last time I dated anyone was the previous semester, for him, it was freshman year.

Times were tough, basically.

And it was a Friday night. I had to stay in to work on a paper, and although Nate wouldn’t admit it, he wasn’t comfortable finding a party on his own. So, he stayed back too.

I finished the paper around ten and we cracked open a couple beers to celebrate. Nate loaded GTA just for something to do. It was going to be a quiet, chill night in.

We played for about two hours, finishing Nate’s six pack and a couple of stray wine coolers. Eventually, our controllers lay discarded beside us. We were both drunk enough to open up, and the late hour helped.

“It fucking sucks,” Nate said. We were both out of drinks, but he still moved his hand like he meant to reach for one. “Like, that girl, Maddie. Remember Maddie?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, like, she’s got a boyfriend. I didn’t know, and it’s like…fuck dude.” He shook his head like he had decided against telling me something.

“What?”

“Its just hard.”

“I know.”

“No, like…” he waved his hand before running it through his black curly hair. Nate was a good looking guy, I truly didn’t understand his frequent strike outs. “Its like…”

“Like?”

“Like, I’m just frustrated.”

“Well yeah, I get that. I haven’t had a date in a while either.”

“No, like, frustrated.”

I just looked at him, maybe my brain was foggy from the drink, but I didn’t get it.

“Im not following.”

“Like I haven’t had any action in too long.”

“Yeah, same dude, I’m frustrated about that too.”

“And it’s just…college is hard.” He slumped down in his beanbag and briefly shut his eyes. I was laying down in mine too, facing him on my side.

“Like, you’re in the room. And that’s great, I love you, you’re my best friend, but like…it’s hard to have time to get off.”

Oh.

Well yeah, I’ve had a similar problem. I have attempted to in the shower, but they’re communal and it’s too stressful. I take too long.

“I get it.”

He lolled his head to the side and looked at me through his pretty long lashes.

“You do?”

“Yeah, I have the same issue. We’re always together.”

“Yeah, but…”

“If you ever need me to step out, you know, take a lap or whatever, let me know and I will.”

He didn’t say anything for a long time, I felt my face, it was unbelievably hot. Why was this embarrassing? He described in detail the first time he fucked a girl, and this was what made me blush?

That’s when I noticed, or at least, I thought I noticed. I don’t know, really. But it seemed like he was hard in his pants. But the sweatpants were black, and the lights were dim and maybe I was just drunk and not thinking clearly.

I mean, I’ve seen it before? How could I not? We live together, I’ve woken up before him and seen morning wood. Whatever. We’re roommates, that shit is normal.

I didn’t stare long enough to know for sure, but my face felt even hotter.

“We could always just help each other out.” He said.

Something about those words felt like a hammer hitting a mirror. My brain shattered into a million tiny pieces, and I realized that I was…not entirely un-horny. If that’s even a term. And Nate is hot, and it’s been so, so long.

NO! HE IS YOUR FRIEND!

My eyes found his crotch again, but I ripped them away. I shouldn’t. I really really shouldn’t. It could ruin everything. We live together for godsake.

The last guy I slept with didn’t even make me come, and I haven’t had time to touch myself for three weeks at least, maybe four.

My breath came out shaky.

“How do you mean?”

He didn’t say anything, he just reached over and traced his little finger along the seam of my pants. Just the side of my leg, nothing sexual about that. I felt fire erupt from the place of contact. Was I really that desperate? Get it together!

“Nate?”

“We don’t have to,” he said, but his hand was still on my leg, still moving. I couldn’t speak, nothing would come out, I didn’t know what to do. I wanted this, but I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t.

His hand moved, sliding to grip my inner thigh. I let out an embarrassing squeak. I was sure he would make fun of me, that’s the kind of friendship we have, but he didn’t. His eyes were low, trained on some part of my body to avoid eye contact.

He just held my thigh over my pants for a moment. A few seconds, or maybe an hour.

Finally, he moved upwards, just a little. He traced a finger over my pussy. Layers away from his touch, it felt like direct contact. My breath hitched as I saw him grab his erection over his pants.

This was weird, it was getting too weird. I should stop it, I…

He briefly met my eyes, they were wide, hopeful, before he dropped them again.

“You’re really pretty. I don’t tell you that enough.”

My mouth wouldn’t move, I couldn’t move.

He pulled at himself over his pants and let out a small, pathetic noise. The type I’d make fun of him for, because we have that kind of relationship.

“I could make you feel good.”

Christ.

“I really could, I promise.”

I believe you.

“I promise I could, and I just…dude, I need it. I need you.” His hands moved a bit higher, they toyed with the waistband of my pants. “Are you wet?”

It was so breathy and erotic, and it should not have turned me on. But I’m just, I’m just a woman, I have needs.

He licked his lips, slowly, he leaned forward and planted a delicate kiss to my mouth. I wasn’t expecting it, but he pulled back almost immediately. He looked shy.

“Lets help each other out.”

I still couldn’t speak, I didn’t know how to, and if I did, I didn’t know what would come out. My rational brain was packing it’s bags.

“What if…what if it’s like, just the tip?”

Some distant, intelligent part of my head wanted to laugh at him. I’ve heard that before, it’s damn cliche. And what would that do for me?

“Just that, and then I’d focus on you. Come on, I’d make you feel so good. I’d…I’d play with your tits, then, I’d suck on your neck while I fingered you. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

“Just the tip, that’s all,” he repeated. And inexplicably, I found myself nodding.

He stopped hesitating. He took his shirt off first, then my shirt. I had an ugly old sports bra on underneath, I usually wore it in the room with him. It was practically second skin. He pressed another kiss to my lips, chaste as the first, then removed my bra.

He paused, leaned away from me, and ogled my chest.

“Jesus,” he swore, rubbing a hand over his clothed dick casually. “Were they always that big.”

“Shut up,” I said, finding my voice. He smiled, and he was the same old Nate in that moment, playful and childish, my best friend.

And then my best friend Nate was squeezing my boob, running his thumb over the nipple.

He took my pants off fast. He moved quickly. I wondered if he would just put it in and come instantly, I wondered why I agreed to such a thing.

“Ill make you come as many times as you want after, I promise. Just…just let me…” he kept repeating as he lined up.

He was on top of me, we were on the floor between our beds, between the beanbag chairs. The room was funny angle from down there, it was almost like Nate wasn’t Nate.

He kicked over empty bottles and swore. I was wet, he was right, but not enough to be totally comfortable.

He rubbed the head of his cock up against my clit. I gasped and grabbed onto his shoulders. He smirked at me, I didn’t like that, so I looked away.

“So pretty, so pretty under me.” He mumbled, moving down to my hole.

He moaned as he rubbed the head of his cock against my wetness. It didn’t feel like much to me, just an experience. I kind of thought he’d come by now.

Then, suddenly, he was inside me.

I cried out, shooting up instinctively but he was above me, so I had nowhere to go. I pushed against his shoulder in warning.

“Not what we agreed, fucker,” I squeezed my eyes shut. He was big, and I kind of forgot what it was like to have a real penis inside me. It was a lot.

“Im sorry,” he said, not seeming sorry when he began rutting inside me. “I am, I am sorry. You just felt so good, just let me, please? It’s been so long, and your body is so fucking sexy. Please, please let me.”

“Fuck me,” I said through gritted teeth. It was already done, he might as well give me something. “Just don’t come inside me.”

“Thank you,” he whined, he leaned down and rested his weight against me, burying his head in my shoulder as he lazily fucked me. It wasn’t impressive or all that pleasurable, and I decided to hold him to that multiple orgasms promise.

“Thank you,” he kept saying, was he crying? He may have been. “Fuck, fuck!”

He came, biting down on my shoulder, I felt him spill inside me.

“Fuck, Nate!” I swore, he would be buying me a goddamn planned B.

I pushed him up when he collapsed against me for too long. He pulled out, his cock still twitching slightly. It was weird to think that it was inside me. That he was inside me.

He leaned back and grabbed his discarded shirt. I watched him wipe his shiny cock and then use a clean portion of the shirt to clean off my thighs.

“Can i?” He asked, motioning for my pussy. Like he did much asking before. I nodded, and he worked to clean some of the drippy come out of me.

“Nate?” I asked, eyeing him. I was quite desperate for an orgasm, and the proximity of Nate to my area of need was making me feel crazy.

“Hmm?”

“About the multiple orgasms.”

#idk what this is #it’s something ig #unedited #work? nah not safe #cnc ig?#idk the names for the shit im into

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transexualpirate · 3 months

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hot take but i think that "fictional characters are fictional and liking or disliking them have no real life effect" and "the way you treat certain characters can be an indicative of your character in real life" are statements that can and should coexist

example: character A is violent and makes misogynistic comments. they're still charismatic and their arc is interesting to read/watch. person A acknowledges that the character is bad but they still enjoy consuming content from the character and they do so unapologetically. they're allowed to like the character, especially considering that literally everyone the character has harmed is also fictional. they don't pretend the character isn't violent, or misogynistic, they just like the character despite that. they post about it constantly. this is a neutral action that shows nothing about person A.

character B is a white man that makes racist comments, treats a black person in the show badly and gains money through anti-ethical means. they're still charismatic and their arc is interesting to read/watch. person B claims the character is flawed but overall misunderstood and all their actions are entirely justified. they're allowed to like the character, especially considering that literally everyone the character has harmed is also fictional. person B claims the black character that character B treated badly either had it coming or overreacted. all of person B's favorite characters are white men. person B goes out of their way to justify that all of their favorite characters are actually misunderstood and good people, and more people should like them. this shows that person B likely has some favoritism for white men.

just. you're allowed to like fictional characters even if they're awful fucking people but. and im not sure why this is controversial. the way you interact with media says something about you. this isn't necessarily a bad thing. does this make sense please

#im so so tired #and on opioids #prescribed. please #am i expressing my thoughts right #does this make sese #sense #mine #cw discourse #ig #possibly #why is #the way you interact with media says something about you #a controversial take #long post #discourse

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