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#and I always love finding new stuff through friends so!
bbydoll18xx · 10 hours
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I Love You (It’s Ruining My Life)
‘I took the miracle move-on drug. The effects were temporary.’
Paige Bueckers x reader 
Themes: yearning, pining, fluff (all the good stuff)
Word Count: 2.5k
A/N: Nothing beats intense pining and yearning. And a Taylor song to accompany it?? Sign me up but for real my little crush on Paige is getting embarrassing im 23 years old for fucks sake
I'm working on a few requests still but if you have a good idea, send it my way!! Always looking for new ideas. Also I'm thinking about writing for Kate Martin if you guys would be interested...
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Your seemingly harmless crush on Paige Bueckers was starting to get a little out of hand. 
It started out simple enough. A friendship was forged from two girls entering college, desperate to prove themselves in their own way. And now here you are, unable to fall asleep without Paige’s clear blue eyes gazing back at you in the darkness of your closed lids. 
You were so fucking screwed.
Your feelings snuck up on you over time, slowly creeping over you until you were fully smothered and unable to breathe without Paige. Yet, at the same time, it was becoming more and more difficult to be around her. You were constantly at war between satisfying the love-sick pull you had towards her and wanting to keep your distance to protect yourself. 
It was becoming embarrassing. The girls of UCONN’s women's basketball team had begun to notice the way your cheeks would ablaze from an innocent stroke of your arm. And they certainly did not miss the way the presence of a tall blonde had you acting like a fucking fool. 
The only one who, to your relief, did not pick up on your bumbling mannerisms, was Paige. She had simply equated your idiosyncrasies to your personality. And that was something you were very thankful for.
You were walking back to your dorm, enjoying the cool autumn breeze flowing through your hair when a warm body plows into you. 
Staggering forward at the sudden force, you look back, eager to yell at the person who just ran into you. Your eyes are met with Paige’s, and she’s grinning like a maniac. Your heart slows once you realize who it is, and you roll your eyes playfully at the blonde’s childish behavior. 
Why did she have to be so damn endearing all the time?
Paige throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in closer to her. You can smell her shampoo, and you fight the urge to lean in more. “Hey, P. What’s up?” You ask, hoping to play off the blush on your face on the effects of the cool air. 
“Just been missin’ you,” she replies. “Me and Aubrey are having the team over tonight. You comin’?” 
As badly as you wanted to, you knew it would not be a good idea. Paige had been partying it up a lot lately. And everytime you were around her, she would hang on you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, her breath hitting your skin in a sinful way. She would cling to you, arms around your waist, pulling you in as if she owned you.
In a sick way, she kind of did. But Paige didn’t need to know that. You were desperately trying to avoid advancing any sort of feelings towards your best friend. 
You gaze up at her, looking into those eyes, wide with hope. It almost made you completely cancel your plans, but you had made a promise to yourself. At the beginning of the new school year, you had told yourself you would try and move on from Paige. And you were starting tonight.
“I have a date,” you profess, trying to keep up an air of confidence.
Paige’s face morphs into a look you couldn’t quite put your finger on. She almost looked annoyed. “Oh. Well, have fun. Stop on by after if you’re up to it.”
You nod, a small, faux smile adorning your face, and you wave bye to her as you head back home. 
~
Music is playing softly in your bathroom as you touch up your makeup. Your date, Ross, was coming to pick you up in 15 minutes, and the butterflies in your belly were swarming horrendously. You desperately wanted to find a way out of the situation, but your crush on Paige was going nowhere if you didn’t open yourself up to other people. That is why you’ve been distracting yourself every weekend with an endless stream of guys who just did not do it for you.
You gather your shoes and your purse before walking into the kitchen. You pour yourself a shot and down it, hissing as it burns its way down your throat. You weren’t the type to casually do shots, but you needed something to calm your nerves. 
Popping a breath mint, so your date didn’t think you were an alcoholic, you straighten your skirt, and you take a deep breath. ‘I look hot. I can do this,’ you affirm. Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud knock on your door. 
Grabbing your belongings, you plaster a smile on your face and open it. You become face-to-face with a tall, dark-haired guy. His smile was heavenly, and his eyes sparkled in a way that had your stomach doing flips. He was the perfect distraction, and in your head, you were applauding yourself. 
You introduce yourself, awkwardly holding out a hand for him to shake.
Chuckling, he grabs it, and with a wink says, “I’m Ross. Nice to formally meet you. You ready to go?” 
His large hand was engulfing yours, and once more today, a blush threatened to shroud your features. You nod and follow him out to his car. You take note of its messiness, but you overlook it. It was not the time to be overly critical. 
As you buckle yourself in, Ross turns on his music, and familiar lyrics come through the stereo system. You giggle at the song. Paige loved this song, and you had heard it so many times, you knew all the lyrics.
The drive goes by quick, to your relief. Ross pulls into the restaurant and backs into a parking spot. He does it with a practiced ease that reminds you of Paige.
Fuck.
You had to stop thinking about her. Your attempts to deter your own feelings were becoming futile, you were realizing, and a sinking feeling started to overtake your consciousness.
~
All throughout dinner, everything Ross did either annoyed you or reminded you of Paige. He was cute; you couldn’t deny that. But he wasn’t Paige. And as time passed, you realized that this was not going to work. 
Trying to get over Paige with guys who made you feel literally nothing was not going to do anything to quell the butterflies in your stomach that Paige gave you when she just smiled. And it certainly was not going to stop the way your heart pounded when she would hug you, hands sliding down your back to rest on your waist with a comfortable weight. 
So when he dropped you back off, you swore off trying to force anything between you and any more random guys that could not hold a candle to what you felt for Paige. It was a harsh reality, but you simply hoped that the crush would fizzle out before things could get weird between you and your best friend.
Glancing at your phone, you notice that the night was still young. Things were probably just ramping up over at Aubrey and Paige’s apartment, and you were so very tempted to head over just so you could be close to Paige. 
Before your voice of reason could take over, you are touching up your makeup and leaving your dorm to head over to Paige’s. There was nothing stopping your lovesick brain from savoring Paige’s drunken affections; you’d deal with consequences in the morning. 
~
Meanwhile, Paige was downing shots, trying to numb the pain of your absence. The girls of the basketball team had noticed her somber spirit, and several girls had huddled in the corner, trying to decipher what was going on with their blonde teammate. 
“Girly pop is gettin’ drunk real fast,” KK observed. 
“For real. Who hurt her?” Ice agrees worriedly. 
“Maybe it has something to do with a certain someone who is out on a date right now…” Nika trails, a smug smirk on her face
Gasps sound from the mouths of the tipsy girls, and knowing looks are shared as realizations come to head. 
“She’s down bad,” Ines giggles, sipping from her cup, and the team agrees, looking over to where Paige is moodily scrolling through her phone on the couch. 
Pressing a finger to her lips, KK sneaks over behind the couch where Paige is moping, and she subtly glances over Paige’s shoulder. Her face morphs into a look of sheer glee, and she runs back to the group with a smug grin on her face. 
“Guess who’s Insta she’s lookin’ through!” KK shrieks, and the other girls erupt with laughter, catching the attention of the aforementioned blonde. 
“Act natural,” Nika shushes, and the girls move away from their gossip circle to avoid suspicion. 
Before the team could give themselves away, you walk into the apartment, immediately locking eyes with Paige. With a shy wave, you walk over to where she was sitting, plopping down on the couch next to her.
“Why are you sitting here all alone?” You ask confusedly. 
Paige shrugs. “How was your date? I’m surprised you’re back already.”
You look down at your hands, fiddling with several of your rings. “He was…I don’t know? Not what I’m looking for, I guess?” You weren’t sure how to explain it. It’s not like you could confess that the real reason you had no desire to ever see Ross, or any other guy again if you were being honest, was because they weren’t Paige. 
“Well, ‘m glad you’re here. Let’s get my pretty girl a drink,” she says, words slightly slurring. She stands up, offering you a hand, and you take it without hesitation. It feels so natural, and you attempt to ignore the warmth in your chest that blooms, threatening to give away your practiced nonchalance. 
You completely miss how the group of girls in the corner erupt in giddy giggles as the two of you walk hand in hand towards the alcohol piled on the kitchen counter.
It doesn’t take you long to catch up to the rest of the people crowded in the apartment, and you’re soon tipsy, dancing around with Aubrey and Azzi. Your hips are swaying seductively to the rhythm of the music, when Paige is suddenly next to you, wrapping a muscular arm around your waist. She brings you closer to her, and through the haze of the alcohol, alarm bells sound in your brain.
You see Aubrey and Azzi share a knowing look as Paige hangs on you, singing the lyrics of the SZA song that was blasting through the apartment. Your cheeks heat up at the contact, and you avoid the gazes of the girls who were sending you smug smirks. 
“Fuck off,” you mouth in their direction. You had been fighting the yearning allegations, and this was not helping your case. 
Looking up at Paige, you notice how her eyes were glazed over, pupils blown wide from the dark room and something else you couldn’t put your finger on. Your stare drops down to her lips, and she runs her tongue across her bottom lip to wet it. Feeling suddenly self-conscious and a bit warm, your eyes quickly dart back up to meet her gaze, and you pull further away from her to seek solace in the kitchen.
Paige furrows her brow in confusion, following you to the kitchen like a lost puppy, where you’ve already seated yourself on the counter top. A sigh of relief leaves your mouth as the distance is created, but it only takes several seconds for Paige to insert herself between your spread legs.
She places a hand on your thigh tentatively, as if she could break you, and peers into your eyes. “What’s wrong, baby?” She questions, her voice cracking as she calls you ‘baby’. 
“Just needed some air,” you mumble, feeling hot again at her proximity. She was so pretty, and her touch was igniting a fire deep inside of you. 
Shit was starting to get dangerous.
Paige cocks her head, and places her other hand on the counter next to where your butt was, caging you in. Your breath quickens, and your head spins. 
Emboldened by your lack of sobriety, you hesitantly lean forward, worried your actions would scare Paige. She mirrors you, searching for a reason not to kiss you. 
You nod your head, and before you can even think about the insanity of the situation you had found yourself in, Paige’s lips were on yours. 
Her lips were soft, and they moved against yours in a sickening fashion, pulling a soft moan from the depths of your throat. Your hands reach up, one cupping her jaw, and the other resting on the back of her neck, pulling her closer into you. Paige’s hand moves to your inner thigh, exposed from the short skirt you wore riding up, and she draws small circles, experimenting with the pressure as she goes. Her other hand moves your waist, bringing you in even closer until your bodies are melded together in the throes of passion and need. 
A whoop sounds through the kitchen, and Paige quickly pulls away to see Aubrey and KK dancing excitedly in the doorway. Your face flushes as you realize you’ve been caught, and you peek over to where Paige is now rubbing a hand across her face, a similar pink hue spreading over it. 
“Knew it,” Aubrey smirks, and she exchanges enthusiastic high fives with KK. 
Paige rolls her eyes at their antics before looking back over to you, still sitting awkwardly on the counter. 
“Let’s go talk in my room,” she mumbles, picking you up and placing you back onto your feet. 
Your heart lurches as she momentarily places her hands on the back of your thighs to help you down, and she leads you to her bedroom, shutting the door quietly.
You go to sit on her bed, thinking of ways to explain yourself for your lustful actions. You could always blame it on the alcohol, but you knew Paige would see right through that. Your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth, gnawing on it out of anxiety when Paige’s voice breaks your incessant worrying. 
“Been waiting for you to kiss me forever, ya know,” she deadpans. She’s trying to hide the grin on her face, as a look of shock engulfs your own. 
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me, P? We could’ve been doing that for the past three years?” You respond, feeling a little less annoyed than the way it was coming off. You were actually fucking elated. 
Paige chuckles, and she comes to sit next to you, brushing a strand of hair over your shoulder. “What was I supposed to do when you were always dating all those random dudes?” She asks, shrugging, attempting to minimize the gravity of the situation.
Your face softens at her vulnerability. “I was trying to distract myself from you, Paigey,” you explain quietly. Paige lets out a small puff of air at the realization, and she leans in to you once more, her breath fanning across your lips. 
“I love you,” you whisper, and she pulls you in, repeating the words as if it was a prayer, over and over again. 
~
Thanks for reading!! I'll hopefully be posting again soon
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gabessquishytum · 2 days
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some dom/sub stuff because why not <3
Hob was never all that sexually adventurous for [insert reasons here] and could probably be considered a bit... repressed, for an immortal his age. His current, modern era friends say he's vanilla, whatever that means. He refuses to look it up. He's fine, really :) :) :)
He just goes through periods- sometimes weeks, or months, or years- feeling something he can't name. Before, he would fight, box, whatever was available in that era to get it out of his system. And it was always gone before he saw his Stranger again.
But now his Stranger is back and Hob's already started to feel that itch and hasn't had the chance to find a new outlet yet.
Dream, though... Dream knows what he's looking at. And what he needs. He sees a poor little submissive in need of a firm, but gentle, hand- and a good fucking.
Well, Dream is going to be that hand. He refuses to even think of anyone else touching Hob like that.
He's already mentally designing Hob's future collar while he plans his seduction <3 <3 <3
I have so many feelings about repressed sub!Hob omg.
Like. He goes to the underground boxing club and fights and maybe even deliberately gets beat up. Or he works and works and works and doesn't sleep because he needs his brain to be full of something, but all it does is make him physically collapse. He doesn't know it but he basically has regular sub drops because he has no idea how to handle what he's feeling.
But Dream knows, and when he witnesses Hob’s first drop after their reunion, Dream takes action. He grabs Hob by the collar of his shirt (it'll have to do for now) and drags him off to the bedroom.
Dream orders Hob to strip and kneel and Hob does it without even questioning it. His eyes are wide, his heart is racing. He doesn't know what's happening to him. Next thing, Dream is just stroking and petting him all over, telling him that he's a good boy and that everything will be okay. At this point, Hob begins to drift... as his mind and body have longed to do, for so many years.
Dream doesn't fuck him that night. He washes Hob in a warm, lavender scented bath. Wraps him in a towel, and feeds him chocolate chip cookies by hand. He keeps his hand wrapped carefully around the back of Hob’s neck, like a temporary collar. Hob is in a state of bliss, meanwhile. He's still totally confused, but that doesn't really bother him. He feels safe.
In the dreaming, Dream sternly scolds Hob for neglecting himself. He states his intention: he will take care of Hob from now on. Dream won't let him suffer alone ever again. Hob protests (still shy and confused), but inside him there's a sub so eager to obey and give in. He just can't help himself.
Imagine how good it feels to be owned and fucked and loved after nearly 700 years of need. Hob rendered speechless, floating in a cloud of total bliss. Dream is gentle with him - it's not whips and chains (yet) but it is firmness, dominance, love. Hob feels complete. He's never been more sure: he wants to live forever, with Dream’s collar around his neck.
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the-nosy-neighbor · 2 days
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Bug-a-Bye and Goodnight
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As always, I have edits:
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This will make more sense at the end.
I came across some theories about this song, and wanted to look at it in depth.
We are reading with the understanding that he may be referring to Eddie.
[A gentle piano and bassoon track begins playing.]
The sun is low, it’s cold and dark,— end of season, but could also be a reference to night and danger after dark
Just wind and snow, I must remark,
The bugs all head to slumberland,—interesting given the use of toyland, also the commercial about remderem/insomnia (some must sleep but Wally is in the opposite state. Too aware?), but could be a reference to death, like “the big sleep”
Some might find it sad, but I understand,—on face value, he will miss his friends, but knows that it is inevitable.
Even if I might not be able to see you,—can’t see Eddie because he is gone/buried
I know it’s for the best, I can’t keep you,—Eddie staying would lead to serious consequences for Eddie
It’s time for all of you to get some rest,—after what we saw Eddie go through, I bet he would be better in a different state
To tuck you all into your arthropod nests,—bug stuff; also Julie's hibernation?
At this point, those last few lines could refer to a sort of death for Eddie. Almost like frank can preserve him in some way by giving him a death in this universe. If we are talking puppet world, which we did see in commercials, most of Eddie’s anxiety happened in that state. So, can Frank give Eddie a suspended or death like state in one of the layers of reality and he is preserved in storybook world or our real world?
With one last check, that nothing is amiss,
I can see you safe into your chrysalis,—this reads that he will put Eddie into a different state of being that he can come back from. The coming back is my interpretation only at this point because I assume frank wouldn’t choose death for him or would for sure be hurt by Eddie’s death. Things would have to be very bad if true death is a better option for Eddie.
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Also, it hearkens back to the horror butterfly image. Another also, caterpillar to butterfly, an insinuation of emedging into a new form. I don’t see allusions to Howdy in here, but I suppose it is possible that this could refer to more than one neighbor and Frank is taking them all out.
As you snuggle down into your dirt,—reference to being buried?
I want to assure you that I won’t be hurt.
This clarifies that it is a sleeping type state, not death. Ok, here is we’re Eddie’s Halloween costume comes in. Frankenstein, changed from the Scarecrow in earlier art (presumably from wizard of oz). Interesting thing about scarecrow vs. Frankenstein is that we see scarecrow taken apart during that film and Frankenstein is famously assembled from parts of different people. Interestinger is the fact that they are both afraid of fire. (I love that Young Frankenstein shows up more than the original in a search.)
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Frankenstein (and scarecrow) are both put back together, but for Frankenstein it seems more of a new being, not just a reassembling. Frankenstein (aka frankenstein’s monster) is a thinking, speaking individual that was horrified at the situation he was in. Frankenstein in the book murders to punish his creator for the immorality of creating him and the resulting loneliness that the monster feels. As such, the choice is very interesting. If the puppets of welcome home come to be aware or sentient, I wonder how they would feel about Ronald Dorelaine or their situation?
If the movie version is the focus of Eddie’s costume choice, then he would be a potentially thinking and feeling being (he is afraid of fire), but without further evidence we don’t know his thoughts.
Scarecrow is a guy without a brain, with the power of speech, so a kind of opposite. I think they all end up just needing to be confident, which is why some shyster from the Midwest is able to help. This almost seems to be more in tune with Eddie's character--Eddie has a tendency to appear kind of ditsy, is constantly being dismissed by others. In the end, we find out he is actually smart but lacks confidence. I can see that being true for Eddie as well.
If I had to pick out a character for Frank, it would be the Tin Man. Poppy is the Cowardly Lion, Wally is Dorothy. Home is Home. There are more parallels here than I was expecting. Howdy is the Wizard, Julie can be Glenda, and the Wicked Witch...is kind of no one? Sally can be a flying monkey. She works my nerve. Also, the whole spying thing was done by the monkeys in the movie.
But now that I am thinking about it, this comparison makes a lot of sense, in terms of the complex relationships, as well as the levels of reality that you find in Wizard of Oz. A big event leads to a shift in the understanding of reality, and the lead finds themselves in a very colorful world that doesn't much resemble their own, but is very flashy, has songs, beloved characters, and a sense of danger. There are some things when thought about in the context of real life, or the black and white portion of Wizard of Oz, would be truly frightening.
Of course, Wizard of Oz shares a lot of parallels with Alice in Wonderland, which also seems somewhat related. In terms of source material, the Wizard of Oz is considered to be a parable that expresses the thoughts about US economic policy in the 1890's. This is a theory that you can read more about here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Political_interpretations_of_The_Wonderful_Wizard_of_Oz
It isn't super related, and not everyone believes that this is the case. However, it seems to be a very American type story, no matter what you believe, that touches on the experience of normal people while much larger forces lie and fuck around with everything.
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As the holidays begin to approach,
I gently kiss, each and every roach,—kisses for Eddie. We have seen a realistic roach on the secret page with the mishmash of one script where Wally is deciding what to draw
I made sure to keep, my garden cozy,
So you can safely sleep, in fallen posies,—this whole stanza shows a desire to and promise of a quiet death and maybe even a maintained grave. I looked up posies to see where Eddie could potentially be buried. Posies refer to a nosegay, or small bouquet of flowers. It was a Victorian secret code thing, a way to declare love or even reject people based on flower and color. One that sticks with us in the form of red roses signifying love. On the map, there is a cluster of yellow flowers to the side of Frank’s house. Not sure this counts as his garden, since it is on the other side of the house. Julie has a group of flowers behind her house, but once again, not his garden. No fallen flowers that I can ID.
When googling posey, this is what comes up. I felt that there was a flower called a posey, and these do look like the big yellow flowers by Frank’s house. If any flowers fall in updates, I am going to assume someone is buried there.
There is also the ring around the roses rhyme, which could relate, but I don’t really see a correlation.
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It’s time to get comfortable in your honeycomb,
take your winter intermission in your garden loam,—dirt, burying again
neatly nestled from the cold in roots and rhi-ya-zomes, — cozy dead
sleeping side by side under stately stones,—2 dead? Headstones is the link I make there--OK, now look at the pic! (I know, it's a reach.)
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…And I’ll be inside of my home,—frank is staying to oversee something. It reads like calming the person who will die. This seems to bolster that arguments that I addressed in the post about bugs on the previous website, that Frank is working against, or at least parallel to Wally. With the bugs, the whispering to Eddie, and using his first name, I think it is reasonable to suggest that Frank is working against Wally and/or Home.
Another potential clue is the hidden video with the clothespins where 1 is upside down. I have theorized that it is a reference to Barnaby dying, but it could be Barnaby and Eddie. Only one clothespin is shown upside down though, so Barnaby or Eddie?
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Regardless of how I feel you need to go away,
I’ll be the one to tell you, you just can’t stay,—he likes bugs but this is extreme of Frank, if he is talking about actual bugs
Thankfully I lack a sentimental sensibility,—true that, he generally seems calm.
I enjoy my Methodical Mundanity,—why is this capitalized? I looked and looked but I can’t find the origin of this phrase, though it came up a few times in random posts and articles. Clown does have a tendency to capitalize things that seem random. Me below is also capitalized. I listened as well, and I have to wonder why the singing is so bad? I don’t think the voice actors are bad at singing, seems like a deliberate choice to have reedy and unsteady vocals, pitch issues and pacing problems.
Where all that’s left is… Me.
So, this is a bit extreme for a song about hibernating bugs. I think that given our many references to bisecting or otherwise putting people into pieces (Eddie butterfly horror, frank in a pile of body parts, look I made a dog, and slinky Barnaby, now Frankenstein and Scarecrow) that we could be looking at death in a sense that works in one layer of reality. You disassemble a puppet, it is no longer a puppet. So what if Frank = Frankenstein and Eddie is Frankenstein’s monster? Frank can take him apart and put him back together in puppet reality?
If I had to guess, I am sticking with my working theory. Frank, as the smartest guy in the neighborhood, is the resistant force in the neighborhood. Wally/Home is/are the catalyst for the scary stuff. They are central to everything, physically and otherwise.
I have mentioned that in the last update, Sally and Poppy have the appearance of spies or managing Eddie. Given that Poppy doesn’t attend to party, I am anticipating that Eddie was isolated and watched by Sally during this planning period, where Wally and Barnaby walk the neighborhood to find out what Homewarming is. Given that it is said that Wally and Home instigated Homewarming, it is strange that everyone knows what it is except for Wally. It reads more as an attempt to achieve a goal, despite everyone knowing about the holiday. Even Julie is at the party, and she is supposed to be hibernating. Well, they don't say exactly when Julie hibernates (maybe there was something about her doing it after the holiday?) Anyway, Poppy isn't at Homewarming. She could be at home, but the book stating that they are all here seems like an attempt to cover up her absence. What is she doing? Snooping in the Post Office while Sally watches Eddie? Does Eddie want to go home for not feeling well or he has an idea of what is happening while he is gone?
Maybe Frank sees his boyfriend and comrade at arms about to get hit with something bad, so to preserve him and the opposition, he is going to disassemble him (cue Johnny 5) for protection.
In the past, Sonny (the Brazilian bird) was cast as the opposition to Wally, and included in a relationship with Frank. This work in particular comes to mind:
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Clown has stated that they removed Sonny from the project due to the story changing from one with a hero, to one without, as that wasn't the story that they wanted to tell. What if, though, instead of Sonny being written out for the hero reason, there was another reason? What if we are seeing Frank taking on being the neighborhood's savior? He is just snarky enough to make it seem less like a hero situation and more because it was impacting his garden.
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ladykailitha · 1 day
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Permanent Tagging List Final Call
Hey, guys it's that lovely time again when I go through my permanent tag list and remove people that haven't interacted with my stories in awhile to clear the way for new people.
So here's the deal, you'll have 24 HOURS to respond to this post. I have posted this two other times, trying to get the word out. Once two weeks ago and again one week ago.
IF YOU DON'T RESPOND BY 12PM EST SUNDAY JUNE 2ND I WILL REMOVE YOU FROM ALL OF MY LISTS MASTER OR STORY.
NO JUDGMENT! I swear it. I just want to know if you're still interested so that if you're not, people who are can take your spot.
UNTIL THIS HAS COMPLETED ITS DURATION THERE WILL BE MORATORIUM ON ALL FUTURE REQUESTS TO BE ADDED TO MY PERMANENT TAG LIST! THIS MEANS I AM NOT TAKING NEW REQUESTS TO BE ADDED TO THE LIST!!!
I love all the requests I'm getting to be added to it. But I am at 44 on my permanent list and if it hits 50 then there is no way to add people to a story's tag list. Something I really don't want to do.
You can tell me if you want to be:
Removed from my permanent tag and all my stories
Removed from my permanent tag list but keep you on all my stories
Removed from my permanent tag list but only some of the stories (let me know which ones)
Stay on my permanent tag list but be removed from all my WIPs
Stay on my permanent tag list but be removed from some of my WIPs (let me know which ones)
Stay on my permanent tag list and all my WIPs.
My current WIPs so that you know what I'm currently working on:
Well Met By Moonlight: Steve is a werewolf, Eddie is a vampire and there are strange and horrible things going on in Hawkins. No Upside Down supernatural creatures AU.
Never Hold Back Your Step...: Boy With a Bat book 2. Sequel to Can Anybody See Me? Season 2 Au where Eddie picks up Steve as one of his lost sheep and him and Steve get together. Set immediately after book one, Steve has to get through high school and his new summer job. Only this is Hawkins and danger is always lurking around the corner. Featuring season 3 AU.
Icarus: Eddie makes it big with Corroded Coffin as Steve and Robin seemingly struggle with menial jobs. Only there is more than meets the eye with the up and coming metal band The Fallen as Eddie learns that the lead singer and Steve is one and the same. Now they have to manage three private lives with super stardom. The path to love never was smooth.
Sweet Home Indiana: Sweet Home Alabama fusion. Eddie and Steve get married when the first state makes gay marriage legal. But soon a rift forms between them and Eddie leaves. Now almost a decade later, Eddie's back in Hawkins looking for a divorce so he can marry his fiancee, Chrissy. But when he arrives, Hawkins starts feeling like home in a way he thought he lost long ago. Now he has to chose between his new life in Seattle and his old life in Hawkins. But not everything is as it seems and that makes things harder. For everyone.
Paper Hearts: Post Season 2 Valentine's day AU. Hawkins is doing a fund raiser for senior ball, people can buy paper hearts to give to their friends and lovers. Pink for friends and red for lovers. Steve doesn't have a girlfriend this year so he decides to get twenty pink hearts to give to girls that wouldn't normally get any. Cue Eddie finding that adorable and to do the same for Steve so he doesn't feel so lonely on Valentine's. They fall in love.
So here is the list of people that haven't liked, commented, or reblogged my stuff in about two months.
@danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @genderless-spoon @emly03 @scheodingers-muppet @i-must-potato
Some additional info!
I remove people who haven't interacted with any of my posts in more than 60 days. This is anything I post: chaptered fics, one-shots, and rants, whether or not they've been tagged.
What does interact mean? Comment, like, OR reblog. It doesn't have to be all three. Hell it doesn't even have go beyond a like. Though, really reblogs are the best because it means more people beyond the tag list can see it.
If you've done any of those things in less than sixty days, or have said that you're going through a rough patch and interaction will be down for awhile, you are still on the list.
I put up the option to be removed from certain stories because @maya-custodios-dionach said that they didn't like a couple of the stories (omegaverse and metal band Steve) and I thought oh, why don't ask people what they want to be tagged IN?
And in the last couple of days I've had about half of my tag list chiming in and tell me what they want. It's fantastic! Open communication for the win!!! It makes me giggle that no one has asked be from Boy With a Bat book 2, though. Literally everything else has.
Most of my regular permanent listers have made themselves known on what they want to be tagged on, but if you just like the post without commenting, I will take that as option 6 and move on. These people don't HAVE to comment or like, you'll stay on the list regardless.
But if you have stories you would much rather not be tagged in, I'd like to know, you know. ;)
IF YOU ARE REMOVED AND YOU WANT TO BE ADDED BACK ON LET ME KNOW!!
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survivall · 1 month
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recommend your favorite horror movies please <3
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noxtivagus · 1 year
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i will do a lot this 2023 >:3
#🌙.rambles#gna be a lot kinder to myself it's alright to take things at my own pace#i'm really hoping i'll be able to improve n strengthen the bonds i have now n make new ones too ><#ffxiv.. i wld like to develop our fc more. make new friends hopefully find some my age too.#i'm an fc leader now aaaa it's nearly been like a month but i've been busy !!#i will wholeheartedly do my best to live up to the responsibility. i rlly want to grow our fc to be a comfy close knit home for my ffxiv#friends. which is. atm rn just me n apollo on our server T_T BUT ONE DAY#n then static i wld love to raid. i want to help my friends get into raiding 🥺 so there's like 3 of us in our not-yet-established static#which means 5 more. regardless i do hope i'll clear another ultimate this year (ucob?) n raid pandaemonium savage again#n then finish both nier games n ccr n other games too. watch more stuff too hopefully#my sleep's been mostly fixed so i'm going to make a nee start this year#not gna dwell on my regrets to the best i can but i'll be kind to myself if i can't help it. nothing to gain by being too harsh on myself#this year's gna be hard w responsibilities irl w school n all n i am honestly very anxious#i've repressed it a bit w the break ;;;; but i'll face it as i always have.#i will study hard! i can't erase or rewind the past but i can do better moving onwards#these memories i can't return too may hurt yes n there'll be many times where it'll burden me n. i know i'll have many hard moments this yr#but i know i'll make it through n keep on going. pain and disappointment in some way will always be inevitable#but i'm more than my despair & i know i won't be alone on this path ahead of me. never have been entirely n never will be n i'll do my best#to remember n hold unto that!!!!#that said my social energy is still very inconsistent i apologize for that n i honestly don't know what to do regarding that but#i'll find a way as i always do. even if it doesn't quite have the 'best' outcome or wtvr i'll be kind to myself#even if things don't go as i dreamed like. idk the things i wrote to myself months ago.. that's alright#i believe in myself.#i'm rambling rn wait why am i so sleepy T_T#i am very used to being alone by just myself n apollo n my family whom i love very much so i may be really reserved w my friends#i barrly reach out n my social energy is typically inconsistent bcs of uhh old friendships that fucked up too but#i. god i cld just ramble abt this more n more but i think i'll be reaching cap for tags soon#that said though i'm really so grateful. for all the memories last yr. all the ppl in it; old friends n new. each moment each word#all of it. i write so much more than you'll ever know n.. even so i really don't think i can write enough to convey the depth of all the#love i have for like yk my family my friends n everything so dear to me in life :<< tyvm for 2022 genuinely yes
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hoshigray · 4 months
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𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 | satoru gojō
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Is it possible to wish to be in the embrace of someone who makes you want to throw them off a cliff? You seem to think so, and the same goes for Gojo. But alas, good things always come to an end, even when not meant to be...
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - implied fwb relationship - catching/awakening feelings - oral (m! receiving) - ball massaging + sucking - sex in a shared room; college dorms (alone) - cowgirl position on a chair - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - protected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - pet names (baby, cutie, pretty, princess) - heavy depiction of a blowjob - cameos: Haibara and Ijichi - fluff + angst; misunderstandings - humor bc i'm [not] funny.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.6k
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: second part, let's goooo!! i loved ur support and comments from the first story, so hope y'all are excited for this part :DDD and ty so so so MUCH for 5.5k like??? i kiss you on cheek, every single on of you, hehehe~
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“If you’re not gonna help, then leave my dorm!”
“Ehhhh, hell no! It’s cold as fuck outside; you want me to freeze to death?”
“They’re…still going at it.”
“Yeah…give it a minute, and we’ll just go to the library without them?”
It’s coming down to the last week of January; university students are finally settling in with their new schedules and getting used to the groove of the spring semester. Or some run around trying to keep up with the new semesters and the change of weather already getting on people’s nerves, wanting nothing more than spring to come quickly.
Three weeks in, and you already have stuff to do, one of them being an argumentative presentation assigned by Professor Yaga in your Contemporary Issues class. You and three other people are tasked to find sources for a topic issue you find interesting and then present a discussion-based presentation on two sides of the topic (two people in favor and two people against).
Unfortunately, the groups were to be randomly assigned. Luckily, two friends you knew in the class, Haibara and Ijichi, were picked to work alongside you! However, the bad part was that another person you knew was assigned to work with you, and he happens to be the guy getting on your last nerves right now, sitting on your couch while clicking through the television channels with the remote. 
Your roommates weren’t home today. The club fair was occurring at the quad, so Mei Mei and Utahime had to go out and represent their clubs for the afternoon. Shoko is having an intense study session with Geto for an exam on the first of February, so they’re at the library now. 
That leaves you alone at your dorm, using this as a perfect opportunity to invite your group over to work on the project. 
“You can freeze your nuts off and become the next Jack Frost for all I care; if you’re not going to do your part of the work, get out!”
Well, minus you yelling at your partner, who clicks his teeth before turning to you. His round sunglasses shone from the light reflected from the living room windows.
Satoru Gojo was your number one nemesis within these campus grounds; this was a known fact to everyone, especially the other group members who nervously examined you two bicker. Being in the same space as him is enough to make you wish you could pull your hair out or put him in the nastiest headlock you could do. Worse, being assigned to the same group as him for your project almost made you want to rip your ears off. 
But you had to suck it up; at least you were the first group to start a presentation. Better now than worry about it later, right? 
“Pssh, fine, I’ll get up and—Oh! Wait, you guys have Digimon on Hulu? Ahhh, sick!” 
Nevertheless, you can’t say that when your supposed partner acts like a child glued to your TV screen instead of doing the work he promised to do. You grit your teeth with a twitching brow, “Why you…”
Across from the common area was the kitchen, where Haibara and Ijichi sat at the dining table. The two sophomores could do nothing but feel the tension between you and Gojo grow with every passing second, suffocating the younger duo. Haibara eyes Ijichi from across the table and whispers, “Wanna make a run for it now?”
The black-haired second-year didn’t reply, only a hurried nod before the two grabbed their coats and stuffed their laptops back into their backpacks. The sound of their zippers alerts your ears, turning to them to question, “Huh? Where are you two going?” 
Haibara takes it upon himself to deliver a half-lie as he zips up his jacket. “On second thought, Ijichi and I are thinking of taking the shuttle to the library to work instead.”
Huh? The library? Were they leaving because of the belligerence between you and Gojo? God, you hoped not. “Wait, you guys don’t have to do that. I already made you guys walk all this way here; it’d be rough to have you leave for somewhere else…”
Ijichi comes with the assist after putting the sling of his messenger bag around his shoulder. “It’s okay, Y/n. We found material from the library we could use as sources, so we’re heading up there to take some notes while they’re there.” 
“Yup!” Haibara exclaims in agreement, and the two walk past you to put on their shoes by the front door. “Maybe you guys can find sources of your own while we’re gone, and then we can converse and share what we found when we come back. Sounds good?” 
“I suppose so…” you couldn’t shake the feeling that they were leaving to avoid being in the same room as you and Gojo. The guilt is hard to endure since you didn’t mean to make the younger boys uncomfortable. “See you guys, then.”
“Cya!” And with that, the door closes on their way out, leaving you and Gojo alone in your apartment. 
Well, this is just great; you’ve driven your group members and friends away and are now stuck with the nuisance of a partner who still keeps his attention on the television. It takes everything in your power not to pop a vein. But with one calm breath, you steady yourself and stand tall. 
You walk in front of the TV, blocking it from Gojo’s view. The white-haired boy throws his hands up in exasperation, but you couldn’t care less. “What’s the big idea?” He questions you as if he has a right to at this moment. 
You cross your arms across your chest with narrow eyes. “Haibara and Ijichi just left.”
“Uhh, yeah, I heard the door,” he maneuvers his body to try and see the children’s show blocked by your figure. “Doesn’t have to do with me—“
“It does have to do with you.” You interrupt him, taking two steps and bending to stare him down. Your face is a foot away from his. “You’re supposed to be here to work with Haibara on the ’no’ part of the argument while me and Ijichi do our part. You’ve only been here for thirty minutes, and the only thing you’ve done successfully is take off your shoes at the door and read your manga books on the couch. 
Gojo chuckles – oh, how you hated his laugh – as he puts his hands behind his head, spreading his long legs from their crossed form. “You heard them, no? They’re going to research on their own and then come back. Besides, you know I’m not one to start stuff right away. I’m a procrastinator, remember?”
“You’re annoying; that’s what you are.” You straighten up with a heavy sigh.  God, I wish Utahime and Shoko were here. They’d help me out with this white garbage…
“Ahhh, lighten up, Y/n. It’s not like the presentation is on Monday; we got until Friday to come up with everything.”
“Yeah, I’m aware of that, smartass. And you’re right: I do know you. And I know you tend to do things at the last fucking minute. But not this time!” You watch him try to put his feet up on the coffee table, and you quickly intervene by kicking them off. 
“Tch. Look, you knew what you were getting into being partnered with me. And relax; those two said they’ll be back to discuss the material later. They already left – nothing I can do about it.”
Your hands rest at your hips, tapping your foot with visible frustration. “Oh? And I wonder why they left in the first place, Gojo. Mind telling me how?”
He quirks up a brow with a smug grin — a telling sign that you’d get ticked off with whatever he’s about to say. “I don’t know, Y/n. Why not ask the nagging control freak talking to me right now, huh? Maybe their short height and angry temper are affecting the mood of those around them to be miserable like them.” 
You almost did it — your hands nearly gave into your intrusive thoughts and were about to lunge at the snow-haired guy’s neck to wring around like a rag doll. But you played it off with a clap, rubbing the palms together to distract your temporary violent thoughts.
You sucked your teeth and turned on your heel. “Forget it. I’m gonna go take a nap.”
He scoffs, “Good, maybe your tiny brain needs it to calm down.”
“Choke and die, Gojo!” You say down the hall, already at the door of your shared bedroom. Before slamming the door shut, Gojo’s patronizing laughter can be heard to your dismay. With gritted teeth, you march to your bed to throw yourself on the mattress. 
“Ughhh. That Satoru Gojo,” you curse his name under your breath as if he’d hear you through the walls. “So unserious…”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
To be quite honest with himself, Gojo doesn’t necessarily hate you.
The white-haired boy lies on his side on Utahime’s bed, watching you nap. He did knock on the door – believe him, he did. He even gave you the good old ten-second rule, waiting for your response. But then you didn’t, which gave him the initiative to waltz in and see you in your slumber.
You slept so peacefully; your face at peace, and your faint snores were the only things his ears picked up on. It was as if your little nagging show from earlier was hard to comprehend when seeing your tranquil state in front of him. It used to be rare to see you like this. Keywords: used to be.
For the past two to three weeks, your relationship with Gojo has become more…intimate. Ever since he took your first kiss and drew your virgin curtains, the two of you have gotten a little closer than before — both platonically and physically. Something that Gojo never thought he’d experience with you, his tiny, cute frenemy. 
Gojo has known you since freshman year; you were two in the same enrichment group to prepare you to transition into college life. Personally, he wasn’t much for the program; he found it a waste of time, a mandatory prerequisite that he felt he didn’t need. He’s all about experience, wanting nothing more than to get on with his day, go to classes, hang with friends, and repeat. 
“Hello, my name is Y/n. It’s nice to meet you all!”
And then came you, the person sitting across from him at the round table your group would always meet at. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enamored by you the second he saw you. Gojo rarely finds someone who could easily pull his eyes to them — not saying the girls who’d usually crowd and admire him weren’t pretty. There was something about you that kept him wanting to know more – to engage more – about you. 
One thing he knew from you was that you carried your character with pride. Your achievements, your personality, your kindness, and your mannerisms — all of which were displayed elegantly and were a breath of fresh air to look at. You stood out to him more than all the other kids in the group, his eyes always finding a way to steer from the professor’s advice to your alluring, listening face. 
Another thing Gojo liked about you was that you weren’t afraid to stand your ground, especially when discussing with your peers or him. Sure, you were always respectful and would respect other people’s arguments. But, God, the way you said things so constructed and nuanced, it had the tall other glued to you whenever you spoke.
He’s not going to lie; he’ll admit that he’d try to tick you off and get you to get a little angry with him when it came to arguing. He couldn’t help it. He just liked the thought of you layering out of your poised appearance to the point you’d glare at him whenever you saw him in the halls. And it had him giddy knowing he’s the one that made you angry because you looked cute. 
And that was the other thing he really liked about you. The more you two interacted, argued, hung out with his friends, or attended classes together, the more Gojo’s fascination for you turned into that of a school-boy crush. He wouldn’t admit to anyone of this (minus Geto and Shoko if his life depended on it) because it certainly wasn’t something to be known. He was okay with what you two had right now, being the friend who loves to push your buttons to see you nag at him. 
That was until you two started sleeping together. Because holy fuck, the past weeks you two have been sneaking time to have each other’s bodies close made Gojo’s mind go crazy. So fucking crazy like the feeling of you on him is borderline addicting. Your whiny cries calling out to him when he scrapes your sweet spots, your nails scrape on his chest, your half-lidded eyes when you look at him, or how you whisper his name only for him to hear.
This was the kind of relationship you two brewed, a secret thing only between you two. And Gojo was satisfied keeping it like this because it was what you wanted. No need to flaunt it around; it was no one’s business. Besides, he likes having you to himself, seeing a side of you that only he could imagine and experience.
The sensations of your body under his touch, the various tunes of your voice, and the beauty exhibited in your gaze. It was all addicting. You were addicting.
“Who told you to lie on my roommate’s bed? You know she’ll kill you if she ever saw you.” 
It was so addicting that he didn’t even notice you awake until you spoke to him, the erotic memories of you clouding his brain dissipating at the indication of your voice. He smirks, “Oh, I’ll be fine; not like she can hurt me with her tiny self.”
You’re too groggy to roll your eyes, sighing as you turn to your side to face him from across the room. “How long was I out for?”
“Almost an hour,” he replies, switching to sit criss-cross on Utahime’s bed. “I got bored watching TV and knocked.”
“How long have you been in here?”
“Maybe twenty minutes?”
“Just watching me sleep?”
“Yeah.”
You let out a scoff, shaking your head. “Weirdo.”
He snickers at you for recognizing his silliness. “Whaaat? There’s not much to do aside from looking at you. I got bored of the TV.”
“What about your manga?”
“Got bored of that, too.”
“Anyone on your socials that you’d wanna talk to? Girls? Friends? Your teammates?”
“Mmm, nah, none I’d wanna talk to right now.”
Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Hmm?”
“What do you mean ‘right now’? You make it seem like I’m keeping you from interacting with your outside life. If you’re bored, talk with whoever you want. Maybe bother Geto…No, nevermind, he’d probably be annoyed since he’s studying.”
Gojo examines you, silently removing himself from your roommate’s bed and treading towards yours. He takes off his sunglasses and places them on top of your dresser before sitting on his knees on the floor. He rests his hands and chin on the edge of your bed, his sky-blue eyes locked in with yours. God, you were so beautiful to look at. 
“I meant that I don’t want to talk to anybody.” Now that he’s closer to you, his voice dials to a whisper. “Not when I got you here to myself.”
He notices your brows drawing upward at the sentence. “To yourself?”
“Mhmm,” he hums, bringing a forefinger to trace your brow. A sensual touch not to startle you. “Just you and me.”
You give him a look as if you think he’s trying to pull something. “Don’t tell me you were making me mad at you earlier just so Haibara and Ijichi could leave, and I’d be stuck with you.”
His smile broadens with every word, his dimples out to see. “No, although I hate that I didn’t think of that myself.” His hand goes to your cheek for his thumb to stroke gently. “Would it have been a bad thing if I did?”
You don’t reply, only placing your hand on his. Your eyes are still on his blue orbs, and – you don’t know this because Gojo has the perfect view of you – the light from the window made them shine charmingly as it highlighted your face. 
“No…I don’t think so,” you murmur, gaze gradually venturing down to his lips. “I like being around you…Satoru.”
He heard his name leave your lips, an invitation to what he wants to do, his eyes fixated on your lips before closing them and drawing in closer. “Me too…”
The kiss was soft and gentle like he always starts with, waiting for you to give him the okay to kiss you again. And when you meekly lick his bottom lip, he gives in to your request and claims your lips again. 
Your moans were so sweet to his ears — his favorite thing to hear — especially when he becomes a little devilish and sucks on your tongue to make you whimper a little louder, turning him on even more. It serves as the perfect distraction for him to snake a hand into your shirt, his hand already making itself home and cupping your breast in your bra. 
You break the kiss with a gasp, and massages to your mound make your breath shaky. “Mmmah…you sneaky pervert,” you name-call him sweetly. 
“Can’t blame me; I just know that you like to have your tits played with.” Gojo sneers, tweaking your nipple to hear you gasp again. “Hey, remember you said you’d suck me off next time?”
“Huh?” The question threw you off before you could fall deeper into a euphoric haze. 
“Don’t ‘huh’ me, you promised!” He whines to you like a hurt puppy. “After I ate you out for twenty minutes straight last time, can I just have your mouth on my dick once?”
“I never told you to eat me out for twenty minutes!”
“You crying and telling me not to stop said otherwise!” He stands his argument, even if you warn him with a glare. “Just suck it, please. I haven’t felt your mouth in a while.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. You didn’t expect to deal with his childish tendencies, but it is Gojo we’re talking about. You sigh, “…Fine, Satoru.” And then the white-headed boy beamed at the confirmation, immediately standing up and heading to your desk. It was an abrupt change of pace for a second until he brought your desk chair out. 
With glee, Gojo flings his jeans and boxers with ease, his half-hard cock out for you to see. He sits on your chair with spread legs, “I’m ready~.”
You roll your eyes, yet the smile on your face sneaks without you knowing while leaving your bed and crouching between his legs. “You’re such a big baby sometimes…”
Your hand finds its way to the body of his dick, gliding it up and down to feel the veins under your palm and fingertips. Gojo hums to your cold fingers, hitching his breath when you tease him with a blow of air. 
Your free hand comes to his balls, massaging his testicles in a way that has his leg jerk. He tries to fight it, but the squirm on his legs says otherwise. “Hahhh, fuck…quit it…”
“Hmm? What, you don’t like it when I tease you?” You peer up at him with a smug grin before using your tongue to lick on the glans slowly, and he covers his mouth before a gasp comes out after lapping on his frenulum. “But when you do it to me, it’s not a problem, huh?”
“Mmmph, shiit, Y/n—Ohhh…!” Another jolt of the hips after you lick and kiss one of his balls, teasing the skin with a kiss and tiny chews that would have him choke on his breath. “Jesus, fuck! Y/n, baby, you’re driving me crazy….Aishhh!!
“Oh, really?” God, you were such a fucking tease. But he fucking loved that so much. “What should I do?” You ask him before sucking on his balls again, and a hand comes to your shoulder to grip. 
“Mmmm…Blow me off, princess,” shivers crawl up his spine as you place kisses from the base of his cock towards the tip. “Please, I wanna feel you…” 
You giggle at his reply, finally taking in his cockhead to your pretty lips and sighing through your nose as you hollow your cheeks to take in more of him. 
Gojo sighs at your licks and sucks on his girth, his erection becoming accommodated to your oral cavity wonderfully. You unhurriedly prompt yourself to take in more of him until your lips reach his pubes, your throat now full of him, and the warmness of your gummy walls makes him squirm more. 
Bobbing your head at a moderate pace, you suck him off to that of a pleasurable cadence. You still use your hands to stroke him, Gojo melting to your touch even more. He throws his head back when you attack his tip again with the onslaught of licks and laps, the hand on his balls roughly kneading them jerks him to moan aloud. 
Fuck, it feels so fucking good having you suck him off like this. How your tongue moved up and down on him was so dangerous, prompting him to place a hand on your head for support. As if that would help, you don’t show him mercy when you suck him harder and faster. The noises coming from your mouth sounded so erotic and pornographic, the heat on his face brewing out more. 
“—Khhmm, fuck, man, I can’t…Ahhh! Y/n, I’m gonna cum if you keep licking it like that. Stop, st—Ahhaaa!!” 
But like he said before – you’re a tease (if not worse than him). You remove Gojo’s dick from your mouth and throat at once, the groan he exerts fueling the fire in your body. You stand to withdraw your shirt, bra, and panties to the ground, knowing Gojo’s watching every move. “Don’t get mad at me; I know how much you wanna cum inside.” 
You pull out the condom from the pocket of your skirt, placing the rubber on his cock after removing it from the wrapper. He couldn’t help but laugh, “Seems like you’re more of a pervert than me if you had that ready while those two were here earlier.” 
“Shut up,” you playfully kiss him with a sneaky bite to his bottom lip. Then, you mount and align your cunt on his dick, the glans kissing your wet labia. “Hmmm, fuck…”
“Relax, cutie,” he kisses you on the cheek while his hands fondle your breasts. 
You slowly descend your slit onto him, the tip of his cock pushing into the entrance of your vagina. A couple of exhales and inhales keep you steady when inserting him into you, not letting the pain distract you from the task at hand. And the both of you moan in unison when it makes it in, your hips leisurely coming down on him until your ass rests on his thighs. 
You grind on him with the roll of your hips, evoking choked intakes of air from him as a hand goes to your ass with vigor. His face to your chest while the other hand plays with one mound. His lips found a nipple to pop into his mouth to suck on. 
With a slow pace, you rock your hips onto him. Your legs bent for your feet to be on his knees, the chair solid enough to withstand you bouncing on Gojo’s dick with repetition.  
“Hoohhh, ohhhh, mmmm,” your hums are expressed in tunes. The curve of his cock is so fucking good, scraping your insides with precision. You couldn’t help but increase the speed just a little bit. 
Gojo keeps sucking on your nipple; the grazes of his teeth and pushing the bud up to the roof of his mouth only fuels more quivers to travel down your bouncing figure. Both of his hands now under your skirt to feel the flesh of your ass under his hungry grasp. He kneads your asscheeks with every thrust to your chasm, and your shrieks get louder by the second. 
“—Mmmph! Shit, shit, you feel so good, pretty,” he finally lets go of your hardened nipple, burying his face to your chest. “So fucking good for me…fuhuuuucck!
You could feel your cunt contract around him; every graze to your sensitive spots prompted your walls to grip around him. He hisses, looking up to see your expression as you ride him out. Fuck, you looked so good on top of him like this. He’ll add this position to the list of things to do again with you.
You peer down to see that Gojo is staring at you, and you quickly bring a hand to cover his eyes. “—Ahhahhn, d-don’t look at me like that! Yer soo embarrassing…!” 
He only chuckles at your shy demeanor, especially during this. But he humors you, not fighting your makeshift blind for him to see you wholly. He’s seen it all already — felt it all, too. And he could never get enough. 
“Ooooh, Satoruuu—Nnaaahh!” He loves how you say his name, your hand traveling to his hair to grab in tuffs. “Oh, fuck, ‘toruuu, I’m gonna cummm…!”
“—Hnngh! Yeah, baby?” Oh, he knows. The way you’re grinding to and fro on his pelvis tells him so. “Go ahead, princess. Clench on me and ride it out.”
And with that, your hips go to an erratic pace that has the both of you holding for dear life. The squeeze of your inner walls clenching on him almost makes him choke on his spit, the nails of his fingertips forming crescents on your skin. And you scream at it, slamming your ass onto him as you both climb up to orgasm. 
Within seconds, it hits the both of you like a train. This had to be Gojo’s favorite part of the entire thing, experiencing having your folds clamp and flutter around him as you cry for him. It took everything in his power not to come with you because he wants to have you on him a little longer. You just felt too good to let go — too addicted to your body to be done with one round.
When the contractions subside while your slurred howls get quieter, Gojo gives you a few minutes to let your body be free from the aftershocks. He knows your body is extra sensitive now, rubbing circles on your back and placing chaste kisses on your clavicle. You hum under his lips, letting the wave of your crescendo exude out from you quietly. 
However, since you wanted to be such a tease, why not be a tease back? At least, that’s what Gojo thought before he threw your cunt another snap of the hips, his cock jabbing into your delicate walls that haven’t recovered yet. A sharp cry comes from your puffy lips, the hand covering Gojo’s eyes finally freeing him to see you. 
He grins with hooded azure eyes, “Sorry, cutie, but I didn’t get to finish. Wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t get to have fun of my own, right?” 
You chew on your lip with trenched brows before bringing your face to his. “Don’t you get carried away like last time, Satoru.”
“No promises, princess~” he sings to your ear before humming into your lips. 
As mentioned before, Gojo doesn’t hate you — he just hates that he can’t fully express liking you. 
But having you on top of him like this, in his embrace, is a nice change of pace he’ll happily get used to.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“Okay, everyone, class dismissed! Thank you for your time, and see you all on Friday.”
Professor Naga closes up the last class for today, and the students all get up from the seats of their elevated rows to pack up and leave. The clock is ten minutes before seven o’clock, the winter darkness already claiming the sky with a sheet of night. Students are either famished and heading to the dining hall for food, going straight to their dorms or homes, or staying behind for last-minute conversations.
Gojo was one of the latter, deciding to stay behind to chat with the group for a bit. After packing his backpack and putting on his coat, he slings from the table to jump to the row below him, where you were talking with Haibara and Ijichi. 
You watch his stunt, ready to lecture, “Jesus, Gojo, what’s all that for? You could’ve just walked around.”
“Ehhhh, why would I do that? That’s so lame.” He comes and bends close to you enough to slang his arm around your shoulders. 
But you click your teeth and try to maneuver away from his tall figure. “You’re lame,” you mutter under your breath.
However, Gojo’s ears perked with furrowed brows. “What did you say?”
“You heard me, you lame white furby!” You repeat yourself with a huff and the snow-haired student gawks at your brazenness. 
The two of you argue again; students passing by silently exit the class, others stand and watch, and Professor Yaga can only sigh at yet another altercation between you two. 
However, it quickly dissipates when Haibara laughs from his seat. “You two, there’s never a dull moment.”
You and Gojo blink at the dark brunette before removing Gojo’s hand from your shoulders. “Hmph, it’s not like it’s my fault; he’s the one who starts it.”
“Oh, what could I possibly do to make Y/n so upset with me this time?” He pushes up his sunglasses, snickering at the scowl you send him. 
Ichiji, being the passive second-year he is, meekly changes the topic from the row below you three. “On some brighter news, at least we did well on the presentation.” 
“That’s right!” Haibara happily agrees with the statement, leaning against the chair with his hands behind his head. “Professor Yaga seemed really pleased with our arguments; I don’t think he intervened even once. Plus, he said many good things about how we handled the topic. Nice one, team!” 
The raven-haired one hums at the other’s exclamation. “I think most of it goes to how Y/n and Gojo bounced off each other’s arguments. How you two pulled up examples from the articles yet remained dignified with your viewpoints was cool to witness. I even saw some students be engaged with the conversation, many amazed with how Y/n refuted Gojo’s arguments elegantly and respectfully.”
But most of all, what the two sophomores wanted to mention was that there was no yelling. To them, the professor, and all the students of this class, you and Gojo presented your presentation without a single tone of malice, no pointless teasing, no name-calling, nothing! It was a civil conversation between two opposing sides. To everyone’s surprise — and thankful stars — today was a success.
You chuckle nervously at the praise. “Oh, come on, you two, don’t let me and Gojo take all the credit. You guys did your part. Especially you, Ichiji; you were an exceptional help for my side and finding sources I could build off from.”
Gojo, on the other hand, rolls his eyes. “Psssh, don’t butter them up like that; without us, they would’ve failed this presentation big time. No offense.” He was forced to say that when you called him by his last name and hit him with your elbow.
None taken, the two younger friends say to themselves unbeknownst to each other. 
The tall one continues, “Besides, you were the one who did most of the work. I slacked off until the last minute when you whipped me into shape.” Gojo brings his hand on top of your head for a pat. The action surprised you enough to flinch a bit. “Nice work like always, Y/n.”
Were the stars aligned differently, or did Gojo just compliment you? It certainly took you aback, especially the two others who silently kept their observation to themselves. 
You could only look at his complacent look for a few seconds before you realized the warmth of your cheeks became stronger. Averting your eyes, you remove his hand from your head. “Thanks, Gojo…” you express gratitude. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”
A cheeky smile, his dimples prominent to blind you. “Awww, would you two look at that? They’re complimenting me, too~” Another bump to the chest has him cackling like a child, and you shake your head with rolled eyes.
The two younger students observe the scene before Haibara forcibly stretches and yawns to catch the two’s attention. “Man, I’m so hungry; I skipped lunch to prepare for this presentation. Me and Ijichi are gonna meet up with Nanami at the dining hall. You guys wanna come?”
You instantly beam at the proposal; who are you to refuse a dinner with your friends? “Sure! I’d love to…Oh! Wait, let me use the restroom and fill my water bottle.”
You rummage through your backpack for your water bottle before exiting the classroom. The boys watch you descend from row after row, and Gojo says, “Don’t take too long; I’ll convince them to leave without you.”
“Hmph, go ahead and try! They invited me; I don’t know who told you to invite yourself.” You stick your tongue out at him before opening and closing the door behind you. 
Gojo watches you with a smile still plastered on his face for a few seconds before Ijichi makes a tiny cough to catch his attention, the sunglasses-wearing junior turning to look back down to the other two. He notes the albeit cheesy-smiling faces they harbor, and he lifts a brow. “The hell are you two smiling for?”
The raven-haired sophomore squeaks at the sudden firm tone, “N–Nothing!”
“Pfft, oh come on, Kiyo; let’s not act like we didn’t see what we just saw.”
Gojo catches the nuance of Haibara’s comment. “Saw what?”
“You’re over here talking about our faces, but you’re the one who’s smiling at Y/n as they leave the door?” The brunette sophomore sends a wink to his junior, whose face doesn’t change at the comment.
“And your point is?”
“Well, it seems — to me, at least —  there might be something going on with you and Y/n?” 
Gojo was prepared for that, opening his mouth to interject quickly. However, the dark-haired other beat him to the punch. “Now that you mention it, Gojo and Y/n have been kind of…stable? There's still the usual arguments, but those haven't happened as much since last week…”
“Right!?” Haibara points at Ijichi with exclamation, making the other second-year flinch. “For some reason, things seem to be a little quieter with the two of them now, not to mention them hanging out way more often. Everyone’s been talking about it; even Geto and Shoko asked if Gojo had done anything that made Y/n passive?”
“I asked Nanami about it on Monday; he thinks maybe Y/n finally knocked some sense into Gojo’s childish brain to have him be so civil to engage without yelling their head off.”
“Pffthaha, I wouldn’t go that far. Y/n did just kick him in the shin yesterday for scaring them from behind.”
“Ahh, yes, well, that was deserved.”
“You two realize I’m still standing right the fuck here, right?” No, they hadn’t because the two discerned the twitch of Gojo’s brow after conversing about the tall, white-haired boy. 
“But it’s true!”
Another voice enters the set, making Gojo raise his head, and the other two turn to their left. It was some girl and her friend. Gojo knew of her; she sat next to him during class. Again, he knew of her, meaning she had no significance to his knowledge.
And yet, she speaks to the three boys. “You and Y/n have gotten a lot more close these past weeks compared to previous semesters—“
“Real close, too!” Their friend adds on from behind. “It’s as if you two are like a couple.”
“So…Are you two….a thing?”
Gojo could tell from a mile away what this was. Obviously, the first girl has a thing for him — he can see the anxiousness from the twiddle of her thumbs and avoidant eye contact. Although he wasn’t interested, he couldn’t even answer the question the way he wanted. What the hell could he say: that you two are in a secret relationship? He knows you’d have his grave ready before he could finish that confession.
And he can’t say the two of you are in any relationship either; it’s not what you would’ve told them. To everyone else, you and Gojo are friends who would preferably be caught dead rather than lying in bed together. So, might as well keep that facade up.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” he starts with the push of his sunglasses. “Y/n is a pretty good friend, and I’d like to keep it at that.”
Haibara and Ijichi turn from Gojo to look at each other and shrug. Before turning back, something caught their eye that caused the two sophomores’ skin to turn white.
Ijichi tries to prevent Gojo from speaking further. “G-Gojo—“
However, the tall one doesn’t listen. “I mean, sure, they got a nice personality and are independent…Kinda pretty, too, not gonna lie. But they’re not really my type. I mean, have you seen them? Just a little person who likes to find trivial stuff to yell at me over. Angry at the world around them, I’d say.“
“Go. Jo.” Haibara says the junior’s name through gritted teeth, bringing his hand up by his neck and drawing an imaginary horizontal line back and forth — a gesture for Gojo to not say anymore. But unfortunately, the sign wasn’t seen, and the words kept pouring out.  
“And to be honest, can you imagine? Me and Y/n, a couple? Jesus Christ, that would be fucking exhausting to deal with, especially with someone so boring and too uncute like them. I’ve seen prettier, been with better. I feel sorry for the poor bastard who does end up with them—“
“SATORU GOJO!”
Now — that sudden burst of yell from a loud, masculine voice — that was what got Gojo’s attention. It’s what got the attention of everyone else in the room. The snow-haired student jerks to look at the professor standing at the front, the older man with a deep frown. “What?
The professor doesn’t answer him. Instead, he points to the left of him with his chin with a huff. With common sense, Gojo turns behind him to see where the older man points. And at that moment, he felt his very being drop to the soles of his feet. Haibara and Ijichi took a slow breath in unison at the immediate tension.
Behind him stood you, a lone figure holding their water bottle within three arm’s length away from the group. But that was sufficient enough for you to have heard everything said. 
Breathing suddenly felt impossible for Gojo; his entire body was stiff under your gaze. His shades could hide his eyes, but he wasn’t sure it could shield the instant shame that slapped him across the face from you. 
And that was another thing: the look you harbored was indecipherable — the true definition of disengagement. There were no widened eyes, quivering lips, or shaky hands. You stood plainly and looked as though you were detached from the entire situation. And that was what scared him the most.
This was strike one.
He dared not move when you began walking up, and your eyes then shifted to ignore his presence. “Hey, Yu,” the brunette straightened his posture at the use of the first name. “I think I’ll have to decline on that dinner offer. I’m a little tired and have a paper I need to work on…Maybe next time?”
“Uhh, yeah, sure, no problem.” He answers with a sweat.
Wait a second. Gojo tries to call for you, “Y/n—“
“Ijichi,” but you immediately shut him down and directed your attention to the other sophomore friend as you put on your coat and stuffed your water bottle back into your bag. “Be sure to submit the presentation template and sources to the course site before the end of the day, please.”
“U–Uhh, already done, Y/n.” He squeaks while reassuring.
Wait, please. The tall one tries again, “Wait, Y/n—“
“Good.” You sling your backpack on, refusing to look at the person trying to talk to you. “Well, I’ll be seeing you, then.” And with that, you turn on your heel and head down the row to leave.
No, wait, stop— “Y/n, wait!” This was strike two. 
Gojo doesn’t hesitate to call out to you. At that moment, he follows you to the class steps where you were a row down left from the door. He grabs your hand without thinking, the size of your palm captured by his slender fingers. He knew it was a risky move, but he had to — he had to get you to talk with him right now, if not ever. Because the latter is something he isn’t ready for, something he didn’t think would be a possibility.
And yet, he will learn this lesson of being prepared for the impossible when you rapidly turn to him. Strike three.
SLAP!
Have you ever seen someone get smacked in the face so hard that their sunglasses come off? The remaining two girls who witnessed it know for sure now. Haibara and Ijichi won’t admit to it as they immediately turn to the other side of the room when they saw your hand move. But please believe they winced at the sound of the impact. The same goes for Professor Yaga, who was too stunned to speak, yet it was a valid outcome. 
Gojo didn’t move a single limb, allowing the stinging feeling on his cheek to course through his facial muscles. His eyes were glued to the carpeted ground; he knew that’s where they were supposed to be. And you snatched your hand away from his grasp, leaving his fingers to suffer in forced loneliness.
“You…you think it’s all fun and games to say stuff like that when I turn my back for a few minutes, huh?” He can see your hand palpitate from his peripheral; the anger depicted alone was enough to interpret. And the tremble in your voice? It felt like an arrow to his being. “…Look at me.”
He’d be a fool to have you repeat yourself; he has lost that right to toy with you now. With a slow inhale, Gojo rotates his head at you, azure eyes tracking up your figure to your face. And when it lands at that destination, his heart is shot down.
Tears stream down vexed, watery eyes. Your brows furrowed, and your bottom lip chewed in a terrible attempt to stop it from quivering. The rise and fall of your shoulders as you moderate your breathing, trying so hard not to let your temper dwell into a deeper phase of ugly. It was bad enough you’re crying in public, in front of your peers, your teacher — and it was because of him. 
“From this day forward,” you fight your sniffles to say your statement as clearly as possible. “Don’t you ever talk to me, Satoru Gojo. Enjoy your life without something as boring as me.”
And with that, you dismiss yourself from him and the class altogether, the room silent even after the slam of the door closed. No one says anything, too shocked from the event to utter a letter. 
The silence aids the ringing in Gojo’s ears, his breathing still having trouble maintaining a balanced front. The cheek you slapped burned with pain; he’s sure the skin is as red as a cherry. 
Oh, fuck.
He brings a hand to his face, his body fighting the trembling. The ringing in his ears worsens, along with the pounding in his head that beats like a drum. His eyes stuck to the ground below him, choosing to focus on something inanimate and not living. 
Fuck, fuck, fuck—
All he could think of in this time and place was you. Memories flashing right before him, of you and only you. He can hear the way you say his name, both in vexation and in sweet tunes. Your smiles, your frowns, your huffs, your whispers. When your eyebrows scrunch whenever you express worry for him, how you’re never afraid to stand up against him when making a point, the smile that’s been blinding him for many days and nights — the smile he wouldn’t mind seeing for eternity.
All those memories were one stab to his heart after another. And every time a recollection ended, a flash of your crying face would return to haunt him. Tears that weren’t meant to be there but were, and warm feelings you expressed with him were gone the moment he saw your eyes void of feelings for him. At least, that’s what he saw.
He hurt you. That was the only revelation that haunted him where he stood, making his voice falter from confidence. It was a revelation he never meant to bring about. And now that it exists and he sees the damage, nothing would be better for him now than the ground beneath him swallowing him whole.
“What…the fuck…”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ❤︎ reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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CUTE THINGS WITH HIM
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summary: just some cute things they do in a relationship
pairings: atsumu :: osamu :: suna :: kita :: oikawa :: iwaizumi :: matsukawa:: semi :: akaashi :: kenma :: kuroo :: daichi :: suga :: sakusa :: komori :: futakuchi :: keishin x gn! reader (these characters just started adding themselves, i swear)
warnings: only my undying love for these characters
haikyuu masterlist || tokyo revengers version
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Letting you stick your cold feet under his legs (with only minimal complaints) x Miya Atsumu
Atsumu is a whiny complainer at heart, so whenever you creep your frigid feet underneath his thighs while watching a movie, he’s doing exactly that: whine and complain. But he never pushes you away or moves his legs. Instead he drapes the blanket higher over you and tugs it in, his warm palms running up and down your calves caringly. He’s also bought you numerous pairs of fuzzy socks and cosy blankets, worrying aloud about your health and blood flow, especially in winter. Then again, it is a good excuse to pull you in closer and bundle you up in his comfy clothes, so who is he to complain, really?
Offering you his food x Miya Osamu
Osamu takes his food very seriously, still, he offers you the first bite without fail. You’re also his most important critic, always getting to taste test his creations, whether it’s for his shop or just for the two of you. He might roll his eyes playfully when you eye his food after saying you’re not hungry but he’ll still share. After all, seeing the content expression on your face as you chew your (or his) food is one of his favourite things.
Sending you stupid memes x Suna Rintarō
The fact that Suna has a near infinite amount of unflattering candids and other blackmail material of his friends on his phone is something you’re well aware of. So it shouldn’t be surprising either that he is digging up the most cursed reaction pics or posts to send them to you with nothing but ‘u’ following it. But, among all the weird stuff, he sends you cute animals cuddling and tags them with ‘us’. Every time you respond with ‘that could be us but you’re at practice’, his teammates come up to ask what he’s smiling about.
Buying flowers without occasion x Kita Shinsuke
Kita doesn’t believe in letting societally accepted commercial holidays dictate when he buys you flowers or chocolates or takes you out on a date. No, he prefers showing his love for you equally all year round. Oftentimes, that means you coming home to a bouquet of flowers or being told to keep your calendar clear for the weekend. To him, grand shows of affection once a year pale in comparison to a steady stream of adoration. After all, your relationship is built on the small acts of love you share each day.
Taking weird photos with his phone x Oikawa Tōru
There’s no room to argue that Oikawa and you trust each other blindly. Considering the circumstances of his career and the vigour of his adoring fans, you kinda have to. But Oikawa has always been very open and honest with you, even going so far as to outright tell you his phone’s passcode. And you use that knowledge wisely. No, not to go through his texts or social media. Instead you open his camera when he’s not around, taking a myriad of selfies or pictures of random objects near you for him to find later. After a night out with his highschool friends, Tōru might wake up to a pretty set of new wallpapers too.
“Helping” him work out x Iwaizumi Hajime
You’re not sure if you’re really all that helpful as you shuffle around your living room, handing Iwa water or a towel as he powers through his at home workout. Maybe ogling his biceps or the way his tank top clings to the defined pecs and abs underneath is what you contribute to this training session. Well, you’re good at that, anyway. But your time to shine comes as Iwa asks you to hold onto his legs as he does sit-ups, giving you an even better view. All your hard work is rewarded with the kiss he presses to your lips each time he leans up. 
“Is this guy bothering you” x Matsukawa Issei
Whenever you stub your toe on the edge of a drawer or bump your hip into the edge of a table, hissing at the shock and/or pain, Matsukawa is right beside you in seconds. Then, after assessing you’re not actually hurt, he turns towards the offending object with a glare. With his voice lowered by an octave or two, he’ll ask “Is this guy bothering you” before pretending to get ready for a fight with the big bad. It’s corny but you’d lie if you said it didn’t make you laugh.
Shared headphones and playlists x Semi Eita
Music is Semi’s passion, naturally he wants to share that part of his life with you. Not only does he play his own songs for you, he also shares his headphones with you, adding all the songs you like to your shared playlist. You’ve also started making recommendation playlists or playlists with songs that remind you of the other and swap them regularly. Driving with Semi is also the most fun, especially on late summer nights with the windows down, going nowhere in particular.
Understanding each other without words x Kozume Kenma
To outsiders, conversations between Kenma and you might seem a little court or even incomprehensible. He just happens to be the type that lets his actions speak rather than his words, unless he gets really fired up about something. Still, your communication seems to work perfectly - or maybe both of you just share a brain cell. Questions like “Have you seen my…” can just be left hanging like this as you’re already pointing out that his old Nekoma sweatpants are in the wash. But no conversations are clearer than the ones you can hold through eye contact alone. Sometimes rolling your eyes conveys more than a thousand words… or however that saying goes.
Letting you win x Kuroo Tetsurō
Despite his suit and tie career, Kuroo is still a playful guy at heart and he’s carrying that energy into your relationship. He also grew up around Kenma, so making a game out of ordinary stuff is normal to him. That said, even if he challenges you in a board or video game, he’ll let you win on purpose every now and then. Not enough to give himself away, but often enough to see your beaming grin. However, if it’s a physical contest like an arm wrestling match, he will let you win (or rather he won’t let you lose immediately) just to tease you over it. Aw c’mon, he knows you’re stronger than this, sweetheart.
Good morning/ good night texts x Sawamura Daichi
Daichi is a busy guy, often out of the house before you wake up or back in after you go to sleep. Depending on which shift he has to work and how your schedules line up, you might not see much of each other for some time. But that won’t stop him from being the sweetest partner, instead sending you good morning and good night texts as well as updates on his day/night, if he has the time. It’s something that came with the territory of not living together before, but the practice never really retired. Equally, it puts him in a good mood to see you update him on your day as well.
Bragging about you x Sugawara Kōshi
Suga is your number one fan, no doubt about it. Not only is he vocal about that to you but also everybody else, whether you’re there or not. Daichi and Asahi are kind of used to it already, but there is always some new unfortunate soul who gets to experience just how smitten he is with you. He never makes it uncomfortable but weaves his praise for you naturally into a conversation. And if it flusters you, that’s just all the better. Although, lately, the classes he’s teaching have picked up on it and are trying to stall for time by asking questions about you.
Writing notes x Sakusa Kiyoomi
This probably started out as something entirely practical. After moving in together, Sakusa just started labelling stuff, writing grocery shopping lists and sticking them to the fridge, especially on days where he left early for practice. By the time you pointed out he could just text you at any given time, he’d already gotten used to this little habit of his. But his messages had slowly turned from chore-related to reminding you to take care of yourself or informing you he prepped lunch for you to just telling you he loves you. The first time he wrote that last one, he blinked down at the note for a few moments before sticking it to the mug cabinet.
Midnight snack run x Komori Motoya
Obviously, Komori wishes his job wouldn’t pull him away from you as often as it does. Though that being said, it also makes coming home after an away game all that sweeter and he feels like the constant change of pace makes him cherish the moments you do get to spend together more than he already does. And he appreciates that you can indulge him, both in his lifestyle and whenever he gets a sudden burst of energy. So yeah, now you’re bundled up in one of his hoodies as you go on a late night snack run, your hand in his as you walk along the calm streets.
Remembering little things about you x Futakuchi Kenji
Futakuchi comes pre-installed with an attitude, no matter who you are to him, it’s his factory setting. And while he’s a lot softer on you as his partner, he’ll still give you a sarcastic quip or poke some fun at you when you complain about something to him. But he always listens carefully and commits it to memory. You offhandedly mentioned you’re running out of something? He adds it to his shopping list. You rant to him about a coworker who’s giving you trouble? Oh, he remembers everything you told him about that guy before (and he’s ready to drag him to hell and back if it makes you feel better). Whenever your birthday or an anniversary rolls around, he never has trouble picking out a gift for you; Kenji could list so many things you’re into or that you could have use for in your everyday life, it’s not even a challenge.
Getting into your hobbies x Ukai Keishin
Keishin has got to be one of the most supportive partners ever. Whatever you set your mind to or whichever hobby you dive into, he’s there to root for you. But he doesn’t stop there; he reads up on your interests, so he can actively participate in the conversation when you talk about them. Similarly, he also adapts to your lifestyle and tries to show up for you in all walks of life. You, on the other hand, also get involved in his life too; his parents were keen to meet you, considering they hounded Keishin to get married in his 20s already. He’d also be over the moon if you showed interest in his work as a coach and met the Karasuno Volleyball Club.
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rreids · 2 months
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BE GOOD TO ME • A. HOTCHNER X READER
__ used in place of reader's name; age gap (both legal, unspecified, hotch implied to have worked with the reader's father); fem!reader; alcohol consumption; fluff; angst (i'm v bad at it, apologies); fears of abandonment; hotch is a bit insensitive at times; no jack or haley (assumed they have the same issues with his work & broke up pre-fic); sexual tension; has a nsfw section, skip from: (“Okay, they’re shut,” -> "I'll stay." if you are a minor or don't like smut; ~5k words; a poorly written ending, honestly; an (early!!!) birthday present for @hotchfiles (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) smut warnings: dom!hotch (nothing intense), fingering, marking, unprotected sex (do not copy them <3), oral (m receiving).
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Moving was always a hassle. 
Stressful, tiring, made tensions high — the works. It took the better part of your first day in Quantico to move in, and you could only settle onto your new couch (courtesy of your father, who’d worked in Narcotics at the FBI early on in his career, and was more than excited to find out that you wanted to move there) when the sun was thirty minutes from setting.
“Yes, yeah, Dad, I’m fine. I only had thirty more minutes of unpacking when you were leaving,” you click on speaker phone and lean your head back, sighing as you try to work a cord in your neck. “I’ll say hi to my neighbors tomorrow. Yes. Yes, I’m going to eat. The food you gave me to put in the fridge. I have my first day at the café tomorrow, I’ll get groceries then.”
He rambles for a bit and you close your eyes, letting him talk and talk. It’s nice. You know he worries.
“Ok, Dad, I got it. I’ll contact Gideon if anything comes up, and I’ll ask around for his team or wife — girlfriend? — if he’s busy. I love you, but I’m gonna go get ready for bed. Okay? Yeah. Thank you. Bye-bye,”
He hangs up first, knowing you hate to be the one to click it.
You sigh and stretch, tossing the phone down on the cushion. By the time you gain the energy to stand and go to the fridge, there’s a ring of your doorbell. 
You’re not expecting anyone, so you approach cautiously, peering through the peephole. It’s a man, older, but you can’t place by how much, standing with his hands in his pockets.
You crack the door, keeping the secondary lock in place. “Hello?”
“Good evening,” his voice has a nice husk to it. “Sorry, I should introduce myself. My name’s Aaron, I’m your neighbor. Wanted to ask if there’s any groceries or anything I could bring you, something to help you get settled or maybe you forgot to pack for the move…?”
You eye him warily.
“I was going to make cookies but I can’t bake.”
You chuckle. “Um, I think I’m okay. Are you handy, by any chance?”
“A little. I can do stuff around the house.”
“Then,” you pause, looking at his eyes. “Is there a chance I can get your number? You know, so if there’s any issue I can call you to come round and take a look,”
“Sure,” he smiles warmly at you. “I’m a little busy sometimes, though, so it might take me a few days to get around to stopping by.”
You nod and quickly undo the inner latch and open the door more fully. “That’s alright, I don’t expect you to drop your life because I can’t fix a leaking faucet. Can you wait here while I grab my phone?”
He nods, looking respectfully at only the foyer and not further into your new home, carefully avoiding focusing on the stacks of boxes you haven’t gotten to unpacking (full of knick-knacks and unimportant things that you decided could wait to be put on display). 
It doesn’t take long to save each other’s contacts, and while there’s no more excuse for him to be on your stoop, you want to talk to him more. “Do you have anyone to eat dinner with?”
Subtle, your inner voice snarks back.
“No,” he smiles sadly, bitterness to it. “Just me.”
“Well, it’s just lasagna to reheat, but if you’d prefer to not eat alone…”
“I’d love that…?”
“__,” you smile. “Come on in, Aaron. I’ll get you a plate.”
.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊
Work goes well, getting adjusted is easy.
You make friends with your coworkers and a few regulars, go out a few times and find a group of girls you mesh with.
Then again, you were a pretty sociable person, always trying to smile and improve people’s days. It was partially why you didn’t absolutely hate service work. There was a silver lining to every interaction.
Aaron was nice, too.
You’d had an issue with water pressure when you finally (after much longer than you’d like to admit) got your new shower head attached, and he’d come over and let his dress shirt get soaked while he fixed it for you.
Whenever you ask about work, he dances around anything more than telling you “FBI” and that he “travels a lot”, but you didn’t mind too much. Everyone has their secrets, and you knew your dad had seen some terrible things. 
You can only imagine what Aaron has seen.
He was good company, had a dry and witty humor that you never expected, kind eyes and a gentle smile you were lucky to see despite his tiredness, and, well, he was handsome.
You weren’t against eye candy, even if you didn’t know much personally about him. It took a week to learn how old he was, and a few days while was gone for work for you to reconcile that he was old enough to have worked with your father when he was at Narcotics.
It’s been two weeks since you’d last seen him, but he calls, voice exhausted and rough, raw, even, from what seems to have been an emotional case. 
“Aaron?”
He hums, sighs on the other side of the line.
“Everything okay?”
“Just tired,” he doesn’t explain more. “Can you keep talking?”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” you can’t help the way your brow furrows in concern about how worn-out he sounds. “Well, I can tell you about my job. I’m not nearly as secretive, Mr. FBI,” you tease, and he exhales — a softer, happier one. 
And so you do, rambling about different coffees, trying desperately to coax him into trying a latte (he refuses every single time you try to tell him he’d like one, but assures you there’s someone on his team who has equal amounts of sugar and coffee in his — you’re sure he’s exaggerating, the sugar would be too much for almost anyone — who would love to try your drink combos); telling him about regulars and new customers, the music that played, if there’s a song you know he’d like; really, anything you can think of.
“When do you get back?”
“We’ve landed, I’m back.” There’s more shuffling than there had been on his end, papers sliding and the crackling connection as he moves the phone before bringing it back to his ear. “Just finishing some paperwork.”
“Is it stuff that can’t be seen?”
“No. It’s not confidential.”
“Do you want to do it at your house, then? Or visiting my place. I made pasta and steak, I can heat some back up for you. I’m sure you haven’t been eating well when you’re chasing down bad guys, or… whatever you do when you’re gone, I’m not sure exactly.”
Aaron chuckles. “Thanks, __. Give me thirty minutes?”
“Yeah. Do you want me to stay on the line?”
He hesitates.
“No. No, it’s okay. I’ll see you in a little while.”
.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊
He takes closer to forty-five minutes, but you expected something to take a bit longer than he said. And it’s not a bother. Really, it was welcome because it let you run out to the store and buy a nice wine (you hoped he likes red), and reheat the food better than just by the microwave.
When he knocks, you try not to scurry over too quickly and to temper your smile. “Come in,”
Aaron smiles tiredly at you, and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He hangs up his suit jacket and loosens his tie slightly.
He looks at the table and his brows raise. “Wine?”
“I figured you could use something to unwind,”
“Sounds lovely.” 
You can’t tell if he actually means that, or if he just doesn’t like red, doesn’t want wine, or what, and is being polite but you don’t push it. 
“Are you going to eat, too?”
“I already did,” you smile at him. “I was going to do dishes so I don’t leave them in the sink overnight — I try to never do that. But it can wait if you’d rather have company.”
He moves his napkin. “Well, I’d be able to hear you from the kitchen. More efficient,”
“Got it,”
You hum to yourself in the lulls of conversation with him, scrubbing a plate clean. He eats quickly, when you’re not across from him, and you find this out when he comes in with his dishes.
“Let me wash them. My mess,”
“You’re a guest,” you protest, but you don’t do much to dissuade him, watching the way he rolls up his sleeves and his forearms flex with a lazy smile as he scrubs off the alfredo sauce. “At least leave your glass. We can drink and talk for a bit.”
He raises his brows but nods, pushing it to the side.
“Do you want to talk about work?” You ask him as you fill one for you and then top off his. “Or would you prefer anything else.”
“I’ve been talking about dead bodies and abductions for two weeks. I’d like something more normal,” Aaron answers smoothly before pausing, placing his plate in your dishrack. “I’ve never told you that I deal with that, have I?”
“No,” you hand him his wine and guide him to your couch. “But I can make a guess why you haven’t,”
“I’m sure you can.”
“My father, he was in Narcotics, actually.” You look for a flash of recognition in his eyes, but without saying your father’s name there is none. “Maybe he worked with you at some point. But he would always come home tense and it strained my parent’s relationship… I get it.”
Aaron swallows. You guess relationships are a sore spot.
“Wanna hear about the last time I went out?” You couldn’t think about a better topic, and grimace when he sighs and sinks back into the cushions. “Nothing gross,”
“Hit me.”
You tell him, excited, bubbly, and pause about two-thirds into recounting the drinking games and how you could barely walk by the end of it. Namely, because you want to leave out the fact you almost drunk-dialed him (and that you were super wasted in public, considering he’s a federal agent), and second, because you realize you could show him the dress you were wearing that night.
Maybe the wine is getting to you a little, but you buzz with excitement at the idea of him eyeing you up and down.
“Actually, I wanna show you something!” Your voice is too excited and you know it when he gives you a questioning look. “Wait here.”
You stumble a little changing out of your clothes and quickly zip yourself into the dress, clasp the same necklace back on. Your hair isn’t done the same, your makeup is your day makeup and not what you wear out, but you still look pretty. 
Maybe a little less slutty than you did that night, but the way the dress clings to your curves would make up for it. Hopefully.
“Close your eyes!” You call out to him.
“What?” Aaron calls back, and you hear an exaggerated groan when you don’t reply. “Okay, they’re shut,”
You saunter out and lightly grab his wrist — he’s holding his hands to cover his sight completely, and your heart flutters at the boyishness — and tug them away. “What do you think?”
Aaron opens his eyes almost directly to your cleavage as you straighten up, and he snaps his attention to your face. That doesn’t last long as you spin and twirl, letting the light catch the glittery details. 
He’s moved his eyes to your hips and how much of your thighs are exposed.
He clears his throat. “You wore this out when you were that drunk?”
“Don’t worry,” you smile. “I was safe!”
“You were telling me you could barely walk,”
You pout at him. “You’re so serious, you know that?”
“It’s part of my charm.”
A beat of silence.
Another.
“Twirl for me again?”
You beam at him and obey, squeaking when he pauses you once you face away. 
“It’s not fully zipped,” he lets his fingers trace above the zipper as he stands, and you feel him pressing closer to you — tall, imposing, strong. Warmth radiating off his skin. “Can I?”
You debate what to say.
“Actually,” you breathe in deeply, trying to keep your voice level. “I think I cinched the waist too tight at the clasps. Can you loosen them?”
Aaron’s breath ghosts over the nape of your neck, and he says nothing as he slowly unzips it, fingers sparking desire and tensing the muscles as his fingers trail down your spine after the zipper. 
“Right here?” He asks, tugging at the cinch to make his point clear.
You smile and let the straps slip from your shoulders in a fake stretch. His breath hitches.
“A little lower,”
Aaron listens, entranced, undoing more and more until his fingers ghost right above your panties — a thong, maroon-y red. 
You imagine he’s shut his eyes now, trying to respect you despite the way you’re clearly trying to get into his pants.
And so, you act.
You reach back and grasp the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him a little closer to the crook of your neck.
“__,” he whispers.
“Aaron,” you match the soft desire thrumming under the words. “Please.”
You know he’ll snap when you arch your back, pressing back into his hardening bulge and pushing your chest out — right into his line of sight.
He kisses the skin of your neck gently, sucking on it harshly before running his tongue over the stinging sensation. He guides the dress down you fully, strong hands squeezing the fat on your thighs with a groan before slipping up and around your waist to cup your breasts.
“You’re beautiful,”
“Please don’t waste time on easing into it,” you grit out, aching for him. “I want you. Badly.”
“Shh,” he soothes, unclasping your necklace and placing it on the small stand by your couch, kissing where the cold metal had sat. “You’ll get me,”
You whimper out in surprise as he spins you and crashes his lips into yours forcefully, pressing you into him so your nipples brush against his ironed and perfect dress shirt, a perfect, aching friction. 
A confident hand goes to your thong and snaps the waistband against your hip as you press further into him, blindly pawing at his pants.
“Walk me to your bedroom,” he tells you when he pulls back for air, and you stumble into the wall twice, too wrapped up in his kisses and heat to move with grace.
He lays you down, but before he can pull back and stand, you pull him next to you. 
“Let me,” you say, tugging his tie loose and nimbly undoing his buttons with only a slight tremor to your hands. The button-up falls open to beautiful strength and skin, dotted with freckles and rippling with strength as he shrugs the fabric off and flings it to the floor.
When you start on his belt, his eyes bore into you and you shrink under the gaze once you tug it loose.
“Sit back,” he nods towards the headboard. “Now.”
You swallow and scramble to move where he wants. He strips down to his boxers and shifts to move over you, bracing on his knees and a forearm. He pecks your lips with a smile before deepening the kiss.
He leaves you gasping for air by the time he moves to lick over your nipples as his calloused fingers find their way into your panties. You quiver at the roughness on your clit, the way the fabric of the thong slips against you with his movements. 
He pulls off you, and your eyes hungrily drink in his deep breaths and the filthy sight of his fingers moving in your underwear, back arching as he slips one finger into you and continues to roll your clit with his thumb.
“More?” He asks when your hips grind down to meet him.
“Want it,” you gasp out, squeezing him over his boxers. The precum that’s leaked through makes you keen with need. “‘M ready.”
“I’d rather you not get hurt,” he pushes in another finger. “So be patient.”
You huff, fucking up against his hand.
He pulls back and pins you with that same hand, smearing your arousal over your hip. “You can’t wait?”
“Maybe I like it with a little pain.”
He raises a brow at that and sighs, but he lets go of you to pull down and kick off his boxers.
Your mouth dries at the sight of his cock, and you ache, so desperately empty. You grab at his shoulders, broad and strong, and he can’t help the twitch of a smile as he rubs himself against you and you squirm.
You kiss him as you hook your leg around him and drag him into you, delighting in the gasp of pleasure he lets out against your lips. His jaw sets, teeth grinding as he sets a torturously slow pace, letting you feel the drag of every vein and inch against your velvety walls.
You dig your nails into his back and scratch, and his hips stutter before finally speeding up. It’s still not enough, but finally forceful enough to draw sounds from your lips.
“You like a little pain too,” you laugh breathlessly, trying to leave a bite on his neck. He cranes back and out of reach, folding your legs up to drive deeper.
“I can take it. Can you?” Aaron asks, no expectation of an answer as he finally sets a pace that drives you to near silent gasps and shaking muscles. 
You whimper, digging your nails in more harshly to feel the way his shoulders flex as he moves one of his hands to rub your clit. His skin and his movements are rough and aggressive, punching moans out of you without care, sitting your nerves on fire.
He doesn’t relent, leaving wet kisses along your sweat slick skin as he fucks into you so hard you quiver in his hold, small and weak and helpless under him.
You moan at the idea, arching up into him as he scrapes his teeth over your left breast.
“More,” you beg breathlessly. “I can take it all,”
His brow furrows in delicious determination over darkened, blown-out eyes, lips tightening to hold in his gruff moans as he drags you closer to your ecstasy.
“Yeah?” He asks, bringing a hand to squeeze your cheeks together. “Want it all?”
You nod eagerly, urge him down for another kiss, and you clench when he sucks on your tongue before pulling back and completely away.
“Hands and knees.”
You flip hurriedly, trying to hide the way your muscles shake from the effort. He catches it, though, wraps an arm under and around your waist to help support you as he drapes himself over your back and slides back in.
It’s almost claustrophobic, so warm and close to him, skin slick with sweat, heavy breaths coming out in humid pants, wet presses of his lips and tongue to your shoulders and the nape of your neck; but you love it, whining and keening as he angles his hips just right and rubs your clit again.
You’re so, so, so close to the edge, you can almost taste it.
“Let go,” he orders, biting down on your shoulder to muffle his own sounds.
And you do, quivering around him, pussy desperately trying to keep him in place as he fucks you through it.
He hisses, and you whine at the empty feeling, rolling over to see him leaning back and jerking himself off, head tossed back and veins popping out. 
You crawl over and grin up at him “fuck my mouth” before taking him in, and he hisses, fingers tightening in your hair.
“Shit, __,” he groans, and you realize it’s the first time he’s said your name or lost composure during this. You hum in response and bob your head further down before hollowing your cheeks.
His hips jerk, but before he can apologize for the movement, you moan around him and press lower.
Aaron groans, deep and broken with need, and it only takes a few more seconds for him to cum, thighs twitching under your palms.
He tugs you off and kisses you after you swallow, tasting himself on your tongue.
“Let me clean you up,” he whispers after a few moments, observing how you’re still shaking from the aftershocks.
He leaves and comes back with a washcloth, wiping you clean and apologizing softly when you wince from oversensitivity.
Aaron even helps you get dressed (finds pajamas in a drawer for you and hands them to you) and makes sure you pee and brush your teeth.
When he starts gathering his things, you grab him. “Stay.”
He pauses and sighs, shirt bundled in his hand. He slips back into his boxers and slides under the duvet next to you.
“I’ll stay.”
.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊
When you wake up, Aaron is gone.
No note. No voicemail.
It stings. He’d even cleaned up the wine glasses and brought your necklace onto your nightstand.
When you stand, it aches, muscles exhausted. You shower slowly and pensively, chewing on your lip as you consider calling him.
You don’t.
You fix yourself coffee, eat some fruit and pancakes, and get ready for work. It’d be a long day standing and delivering orders with the way your muscles burned, but maybe it’d distract you.
You don’t even hear from him again for a week, and part of you is mad at him, but most of you is scared — you’d figured out that he deals with homicides and abductions that night, and there was a worry that took root and grew that he could be dead, and you wouldn’t know.
When you hear from him, it’s one a.m. on a Friday (Saturday, you suppose, since it’s past night).
“Hello?” You ask groggily, not having checked the caller I.D.
“__,” Aaron sighs out. He sounds relieved.
You tense. “Aaron.”
There’s awkward silence.
“Why are you calling?”
“I hadn’t heard from you all week,” he tells you, and your heart twists in your chest.
Who did he think he was, to sleep with you, leave without warning, and call like nothing happened?
“I wonder why,” you snap, voice bitter and biting.
Aaron sighs and shuffles.
More uncomfortable silence.
“Where did you go?”
“Home. I had to get dressed for work.”
You hope none of his team is around. You’re already upset enough just talking to him, and that’s without a team of whatever-the-fuck he does FBI agents listening in.
“No message?”
“Should I have left one?” Aaron sighs, and you can practically see him pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’re not dating, __.”
“Yeah. I can tell.” You scoff. “Then why do you care that I didn't call you?”
“I like your company, you know that.”
“You do a hell of a job making it clear.”
Eyes burning with tears you’re holding back, you finally ask.
“What do you want, Aaron?”
“To talk.”
“No,” you grouse, wiping the tear that rolls down your cheek.
“__, please, come on.”
“Come on?” You repeat, incredulous. “Aaron, I like you. You used me for sex and left. I’m fucking pissed at you,”
“You’re too young for me.” Aaron sighs. “I’m always at work. It’s dangerous work, too. You could have any guy,”
“Yeah. A shame I want you. And my age didn’t seem to matter last week. If you don’t want to date me, just say it!”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“That I want to see you.”
“No. Please… stop calling me,”
You hope he doesn’t hear the choked sob that leaves your lips as you hang up.
.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊
You ignore him for two weeks pretty well, pretending to be gone or asleep every time he rings the doorbell, tossing out his sad attempts at cookies (even if you feel like crying knowing he can’t make cookies or bake for shit and is doing it just for you), letting the flowers he placed die on your stoop.
The first time you hear about him again — he hadn’t left messages in a few days — is actually at work.
A younger man, about your age, boyishly cute and nothing like who you wanted, comes in and smiles at you.
“Hey, do you have any like… special drinks?” He’s stuttering. “My friend—boss?— recommended this place, said you had lattes I might like.”
The gears turn a little.
(There’s someone on my team who would drink it. 
I want you to try it, Aaron.
I don’t do sugar in my coffee, __. But he does, I swear it’s more sugar than coffee sometimes. I’ll let him know the name of your café.
Should I be expecting him?
Yeah, maybe. His name’s Spencer. He’s a good kid.)
“Boss?”
“Yeah! We work together, but we’re also friends, but he could fire me, so I never know how to introduce him.”
You giggle slightly. “Um, well, we have a seasonal drink.” 
You rattle off the options and ingredients, and when he finally decides on his order, he blinks at you a few times.
“You know, your name is familiar. __.” He’s trying to place it.
With a smile, you glance at him. “What’d you say yours was? For the order.”
“Spencer.”
Bingo.
You write it on the cup and look to see if there’s a line. There isn’t. You hand the cup to the other barista working with the order ticket.
“Where’d you say you worked, Spencer?”
“I didn’t. But I work at the FBI in the BAU—that’s the behavioral analysis unit. We do something called profiling to catch unsubs, unknown subjects, who commit a variety of different crimes.”
You nod. 
Profiler. 
You’d think someone who knows the human condition and behavior so well would know not to leave a girl without a goodbye when you slept together the night before.
“Your boss, his name Aaron?”
“Hotch.” Spencer supplies automatically before his ears catch up. “Wait, yeah. Aaron Hotchner. You know him?”
You smile tightly, not sure what he’s shared with his team. With the BAU. “We’re neighbors.”
Spencer grins. “You should come in and surprise him! He’s been bothered by something lately, but he won’t tell any of us why. Maybe he’ll tell you.”
You tense. “You all sound like a nosy bunch, Spencer,” you hope your voice comes across light and playful enough. You thank your coworker for his coffee and say “I’m also on shift. Here’s your coffee. Have a good day.”
He smiles and says “you too!” and turns around. He almost bumps into someone immediately and you hear a rush of apologies as he looks at his watch and hurries out of the café.
You sigh.
All day, what Spencer said runs through your mind. Had he really been struggling? He had to be, assuming Spencer didn’t know you… and if Aaron is as private as you think he is, Spencer definitely doesn’t know you.
When you get home, Aaron is waiting on your doorstep, and it takes everything in you to not turn around and get right back in your car, drive somewhere for dinner.
“__,” his voice is pleading, broken and soft.
“Aaron, please,” you sigh. “I’m tired of the excuses.”
“I know. I know. Let’s talk. Actually.”
You huff.
“... I’ll talk. You listen. I’m the one who has apologizing to do,”
“First right thing you’ve said in a while,” you mumble bitterly, brushing past him to unlock your door. “Come on.”
He follows you slowly, and one glance at his face fills you with guilt. He looks like a kicked puppy. 
Damn him and his pretty brown eyes.
You settle on the couch with wine. “Go on,”
Aaron swallows. “I… got a call. A work call. At three. After we slept together, I needed to run to grab all my things, get new clothes… 
It was a brutal case. The… the guy — we caught him — was killing girls who looked like you. And, selfishly, I thought, maybe if I just ignored you I wouldn’t be worried. And that you’d be okay, that it didn’t matter to you like it mattered to me. 
But I kept seeing him kill you in my nightmares, and I knew I needed to focus on work before he killed another innocent woman. That if I called you, I’d break down and be a burden on the team and the case.
And I know that’s not good enough, I should’ve left a message or called anyway.
I do like you. And your age is part of me not calling, I just don’t know if it’s right. For me to want you.”
He pauses and stares into your eyes before looking to the ground. “I don’t care if it’s right anymore. I do want you. When I close my eyes before bed, I see your smile, I think of you, and I just,” he digs his nails into his thighs, exhales heavily. “I want you so fucking bad,”
You swallow. “Care to show me?”
“Not tonight.” Aaron sighs. “I don’t want… I don’t want it to seem like I just want your body.”
“Even if I say it’s okay?”
“Even then,” he leans over and kisses you. 
Sweetly. Romantic, even.
“Let me make it up to you. What do you say about dinner tomorrow?” He rubs his thumb over your cheek. “Let me show you that I want you,”
“Sounds good, Hotchner.”
His brows shoot up. “How do you know my last name?”
“Well, I met this guy,” you say teasingly. “His name’s Spencer. Ring a bell?”
Aaron curses. “Did he say anything?”
“Just that you seemed down. He didn’t know anything, I just said you were my neighbor. Why, did you miss me? That why you were so miserable?”
“Yeah.” It’s the most confident he’s sounded all night. “Going forward…” he pauses. “Just slap me if I’m being an ass. I thought I was going crazy not being able to see you.”
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strang3lov3 · 5 months
Text
Cinnabon
Summary: (mall rats 7, final part!) Joel ruins a special moment, leading to another stupid argument, leading to him fucking the daylights out of you on his couch. Lovingly.
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Tags: AU where yeast is not dead and we can all bake and be happy. Cordyceps is no longer in the flour/sugar either (work with me) Cinnabons, 69, dirty talk, unprotected Piv, creampie because it’s me, strang3lov3. soft dom joel because again, it’s me, strang3lov3. Strange highs and strange lows, that’s how my love goes. You get it.
A/N: As always, thank you @papipascalispunk for editing ❤️ you’ve helped me so much on this series and you have no clue how thankful I am for that. Definitely abusing your talents for the next shit I wanna write! And thank you to everyone who’s read and reblogged, commented, all of that good stuff. This was a blast to write!!!
This may not be the absolute end of these two, so you might get an update on them here and there, most likely in the form of yet another lovers quarrel. But I have so much stuff planned and I hope you continue to keep up with me ❤️ excited for the new year and to share what else i've been writing with all of you 🩷
It’s early in the morning in late December when you’re walking up to Joel’s porch, holding a basket full of ingredients and a dusty copy of Betty Crocker’s Cookbook. You knock on the door, no answer. With Joel’s poor hearing, sometimes it’s better to knock on his back door. He seems to hear it better, closer to his bedroom and all that. You make your way to his back door, where you find Ellie quietly opening the window next to the door, no doubt sneaking back from a friend’s house. You startle each other, “Ellie, hi,” you say. You wrinkle your nose, she smells like weed. You can’t help but smirk.
“Oh,” she says, “Hi. I’m not– I’m just–”
“I won’t tell Joel,” you smile. Ellie’s staring at your basket of goodies, where one of your lacy Victoria’s Secret thongs sits on top of a blue Cinnabon apron. “I’m just…baking. For Joel. Are you gonna be home today?”
It’s Ellie’s turn to smirk at you, as she opens the window the rest of the way and lifts herself inside the house. You hear her heavy footsteps before she unlocks and opens the door for you. “I can disappear,” she replies, “I require payment, though.” 
“I’ll leave you a plate outside your door.”
“Deal.” 
Ellie goes to her room probably to change clothes, and you go toward Joel’s kitchen. “I want two of whatever you’re making,” Ellie calls out before slamming the back door again, probably going back to her friend’s house. That girl certainly knows how to negotiate. You can’t help but love her for it.
Joel usually wakes up early, but he’s not on his recliner where you expect him to be. Must be in bed. You smile to yourself, picturing Joel coming downstairs in his pajamas, hair messy and sighing in pleasure at the sweet aroma of butter and cinnamon. 
You’re making Cinnabons this morning. Well, cinnamon rolls, as Betty Crocker puts it. When you and Joel were in the Barnes and Noble at the mall picking up books for Jackson’s library, you had stumbled across Betty Crocker’s Cookbook. Flipping through the pages, you found a recipe for cinnamon rolls and thought back to that first time in the mall with Joel, where he explained what a Cinnabon was, and then lied about his sweet tooth. 
There were loads of recipes, many interesting pictures too. You brought the book to Joel and pointed at a picture of some odd, translucent dome-shaped food item. He told you it was called Jell-O, and that no one misses it. You wanted to take the cookbook back with you, but there wasn’t room in the duffel bag. And you couldn’t bear to rip out a single page for one recipe. That would just be cruel.
At the end of the day, you went back to Tommy’s office with Joel. Joel usually walks you home, but he didn’t that day. Said he was running late for game night with Ellie, so he took off quickly. Tommy told you he’d walk you home, though.
As you and Tommy went through some of the books, he heard you sigh disappointedly, “What’s gotcha down, hon?”
“There was this book I wanted, but we didn’t have room.” 
“What book?”
“Cookbook,” you replied, “I wanted to make a recipe for Joel.” 
“Ah,” Tommy murmured, flipping through the pages of an old picture book, “Which recipe?”
“Cinnamon rolls.”
“Oh man,” Tommy groaned. He checked his watch, then looked at you with a light in his eyes. 
“I’ll take you back there right now to get that book.” 
“You’d do that?”, you asked.
“For you, of course. But I got my motives. Ya gotta hook me up with some of those rolls.”
There are few things that make you feel as loved and appreciated as when Tommy’s eating your food, showering you in the sweetest compliments and praises. No problem, you’d gladly share your baking with him. So Tommy took you back to the mall. You led him to the bookstore, picked up your book and went on your merry way. Tommy still hadn’t gotten to check the mall out for himself, though. So he wandered through the same areas you did, through the food court you and Joel picked through all that time ago. At the Cinnabon stand, he tossed you a blue apron with the word ‘Cinnabon’ embroidered at the chest. “Bet ya could make Joel turn bright red with this.”
You picked up what he was putting down immediately. And, thinking about it, you had a lacy thong that would match the apron perfectly. You remembered the blush on Joel’s cheeks as you tried on lingerie at Victoria’s Secret, how he mumbled something about lingerie being a waste of time before fucking you in the dressing room, still wearing your pretty pink chiffon babydoll. You wondered if faced with a big, gooey cinnamon roll sitting in front of him, and you in nothing but an apron and a thong, he’d still lie about that sweet tooth of his and his disdain for lingerie. Cause for an experiment. 
In Joel’s kitchen, you prepare the recipe. You prepped the dough last night, giving it plenty of time to rise. All you have to do this morning is prepare the cinnamon-sugar mixture and the icing. Oh, and put on that apron and thong. Not too hard. 
Once the rolls are assembled in the pan, you put them in Joel’s oven and change into your little outfit, feeling a little breeze on your bare ass. Good thing Ellie’s gone. As you’re waiting for the rolls to bake, you lean over Joel’s kitchen table and flip through the pages of your cookbook. The Jell-O still has you perplexed. 
Some time goes by. You’re reading about the Jell-O, how Betty Crocker said that it was great for parties and baby showers and other things like that. The slam of the glass door behind you startles you. You whip around, and there’s Joel with bright red cheeks, looking shocked and horrified. Through the glass door, you see Tommy in Joel’s yard. He waves at you, smiling. You wave back.
“Jesus Christ,” Joel grumbles, quickly pulling the blinds over the glass door to protect your modesty, “You gonna explain why you’re bare assed in my kitchen?”
“I thought you were sleeping,” you reply.
“That doesn’t answer my question,” he grumbles, as the egg timer you set prior goes off with a ding. You open the oven and pull out the cinnamon rolls with a pair of potholders, giving Joel a perfect view of your entire ass. “Oh my god,” he groans. When you turn around, he’s pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head, always so dramatic. You reach for the Pyrex measuring bowl full of icing you prepared and begin drizzling it over the warm cinnamon rolls. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy. You’re somethin’ else, you know that? I never know what–”, Joel stops speaking, and you look back at him once more. He’s intrigued, eyes wide. The pastry has pulled his attention away from your nearly-bare body. “Those uh– those cinnamon rolls?”
“Cinnabons,” you correct him, pointing to the embroidered logo on your chest, “But yeah– cinnamon rolls.”
“Right,” he murmurs, stepping closer to you. He reaches into one of his drawers for a fork and pushes you out of the way. 
“Joel,” you complain as he steals a bite of the cinnamon rolls, right out of the pan. He blows on it first, careful not to burn his tongue. When he tastes the pastry, his eyes flutter shut. He moans softly. “You said once that you missed Cinnabons,” you explain, speaking softly. Joel reaches for another bite, right out of the pan.
“Mhm,” he mumbles, mouth full of dessert.
“What’s the verdict?”
“Cinnabon’s better,” he answers plainly. 
Your face drops. “What?”
“Yeah this–”, he takes another bite, “S’no good at all.”
He’s fucking with you. Probably gonna say something dumb like how you should give him the pan, let him dispose of those no good cinnamon rolls for you. “Dick,” you punch his arm for scaring you like that. He doesn’t mind. 
“You made these for me?”
“Yeah,” you say quietly, “For you.”
“For me,” he repeats, a soft smile on his face. You’re kind of baffled at his mood change, but you know what they say about men and food; the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, all that stuff. He steps closer to you, backing you against the countertop and turning off his oven, still wearing that smile, like he knows something you don’t.
“But I owe Tommy and Ellie one, too,” you continue, voice a little shaky. You’re nervous, why is he making you nervous? Joel sets his fork down and stares at you, lovingly, tenderly. “I made two batches before this, fucked both of those up. And then I ran out of sugar, actually. Tommy had to steal me some more.”
“I love you.”
His words hit you like a ton of bricks. He says it plainly, no frills. Just out with it. 
“You do?”
“Mhm,” he hums, “I do. Still would like an answer as to why you’re half-naked, though.”
Your face heats up. What were you saying? The cinnamon rolls, right. 
“I was– I don’t know. I had to knead the rolls by hand. The recipe said a stand mixer would be easier, but I didn’t…”, you trail off, feeling a little fuzzy, like you can’t think straight, your train of thought slipping away from you, “Didn’t have one. I love you too, actually.”
“I know,” he replies softly. He never doubted it for a second. Lord, he’s so handsome. His eyes sparkle more than usual, his fluffy curls untamed. The flannel he’s wearing suits him perfectly, and you can’t help but stare, stammering quietly. He reaches for your face with one hand, wrapping the other around your waist and pulling you close to his body, “I’m gonna kiss you now.”
Oh, fuck. You squirm out from his hold, away from the counter he held you against. Joel looks absolutely baffled as you smile sheepishly. “Can you grab me a plate for the Cinnabons?”, you ask, “I need to leave one by Ellie’s door.”
“I’d like to kiss you first, if you don’t mind,” he says, walking towards you. You keep walking backwards, around the kitchen table. Joel follows you as you look through his drawers for a spatula, opening and closing cabinets with shaky hands as you try to find a plate. Where are his fucking plates? Joel reaches for your hand to stop you. “Will you let me kiss you?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
Joel’s missing something here. Has to be. You love Joel. Joel loves you. That’s been established, just like, two minutes ago. And you’ve been intimate with him many times before. The next logical step in this series of very out of order steps would be to kiss you. Unless…“Are you nervous?”, he asks.
“About what?”, you ask, “Kissing?”
“No, underwater basket weaving. Yes, kissing,” he sighs, “You seem nervous.”
“I’m not nervous,” you lie, “I’d just like to be the one to do it first.”
“Oh,” Joel replies, still a little confused, “Yeah, naturally. Makes sense.” He takes you by the hand and leads you to his living room, sits you on the couch and takes his place next to you. “Lay it on me, then.” 
“I can’t just–”
“You can,” he interrupts, coaxing you gently, “Come closer.” You scoot closer, but it’s not enough for Joel. Still wearing nothing but a thong and an apron, he lifts you by your ass and places you on his lap. Joel wears an expectant look on his face as you adjust yourself on his lap, feeling so awkward and out of your element. You’ve kissed people before, this should be no big deal. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous with Joel, especially when you’ve done everything else with him. 
“Joel, I– I don’t know where to put my hands.”
“Right here,” he whispers, placing your hands on his shoulders, “Or here,” he moves your hands to his jaw, his patchy beard prickly under your fingertips. “Wherever you want.”
“I like your shoulders,” you whisper, dropping your hands back to his shoulders. One of your hands slides to the back of his neck, playing with his soft curls. 
“S’good,” he says. And oh, his eyes. Brown and so warm, inviting, so beautiful. 
“Close your eyes,” you demand, intimidated by his stare. “Sorry. Close your eyes,” you repeat, softer. 
“My bad,” Joel replies, his eyes now shut. You’ve never noticed how pretty his lashes are before now. They’re gorgeous, so long. “They’re closed now.”
“Okay,” you breathe. 
“You got it,” he encourages. 
God, this is daunting. You close your eyes, lean forward…and smooch him right on the cheek. There. Easy. 
“Doesn’t count,” Joel murmurs through a smile, eyes still closed. Fuck. You adjust yourself on his lap, lean forward and…nothing. Joel waits. And waits. And waits. 
“I’m gonna kiss you now,” you say, trying to will yourself to just do it.
“Okay, sweetheart. You got it,” he whispers. But you don’t kiss him yet, and Joel keeps waiting, feeling himself beginning to grow hard as you keep squirming on his lap, adjusting yourself some more. “Hon?”
“Yeah?”
“Any minute, now.”
“I know,” you say, “I’m gonna kiss you.” But you adjust again. A minute passes with you on Joel’s lap as he waits patiently for you to finally kiss him. Another minute. And then you lean forward and – nothing. 
“I’m gonna count down from three, and then you’ll kiss me. How about that?”
Yeah, sounds like a plan. 
“Okay,” you reply. 
“Three…two…”, Joel counts, and you prepare once more to kiss him, “One,” Nothing. Joel sighs, “You’re killin’ me here.”
“I was about to do it, Joel.”
“Uh huh.”
“I was,” you argue, “You just keep talking and–”
“Oh, you’re so full of shit. You’re the one doin’ most of the talkin’, like usual.”
“That’s not true,” you argue, but are interrupted when he opens his eyes. That’s not supposed to happen. He wears a mischievous grin as he sits up and his hands begin to slide up your sides. Your already pounding heart begins to beat even harder, faster, because Jesus Christ, he seems like he’s about to kiss you. “What are you doing?”
“Ya got three more seconds to kiss me. Three…”
“Joel, not funny,” you scold as he takes your face in his hands. 
“Two…”
You’re beginning to panic, “Joel–”
And then he fucking kisses you, the bastard! No tongue, just a sweet, gentle peck. It’s despicable. You shove him back on the couch and glare at him, “You kissed me!”
“How awful,” Joel says with mock sympathy before he leans forward and kisses you again. You shove him again, harder.
“You asshole. I was gonna do it.”
“No, you weren’t,” he replies plainly. He tries to kiss you again, but you keep your hands on his shoulders, pinning him to the couch cushion. Joel’s smirking, but you’re scowling.
“Yes, I was.”
“Okay,” Joel laughs, “We can redo it, then.”
You sigh, “No, Joel, we cannot redo it. You already ruined it.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah. That’s right.”
“Shit. S’too bad,” Joel feigns a sympathetic pout as he wraps both hands around your wrists that pin his shoulders, removing them from his body. He pushes your hands behind your back, holding them tightly as he kisses you again. And again, this time a little longer. Your lips begin to slide against his, and…god, they’re soft. The bastard.
“You’re ruining–”
“For the love of god, you’re drivin’ me fuckin’ nuts,” Joel mumbles against your lips. 
“I was supposed to–”
“No. You had your turn. We’re doin’ it my way now,” Joel says, “That means,” he kisses you, “M’gonna kiss you,” another kiss, “And fuck you,” another kiss, “As I please, because I love you,” he whispers. He kisses you before he maneuvers you to lay across the couch cushions, now pinning your wrists above your head under just one of his hands “And you can’t do a thing about it. Got it?” 
“I–”
He doesn’t let you argue further. Always so stubborn, you. “Good girl. Yeah, you got it,” Joel kisses you again. It’s different this time. Deeper, hungrier, messier. So much tension, time spent dancing around feelings, and it’s all out there now. His tongue slides past your lips and he tastes like cinnamon and sugar. You’ve been depriving yourself of him for too long. “And after all this, I’m gonna eat some of them cinnabons you made. And I won’t share, either.”
With his free hand, Joel unzips his pants to free his cock. “You know what you do to me, trouble?” he asks, breathing heavily. “Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock with all that squirmin’ ya did instead of kissin’ me,” Joel lifts the bottom of your apron up, exposing yourself to him, already dripping wet as he pulls off your soaked thong. You could have expected the ensemble wouldn’t have lasted long. And how are you already wet? One second you’re arguing about a stupid kiss and the next, he’s got you pinned beneath him and you’re dripping. You gasp as Joel gathers your slick with his fingers before stroking his cock, dipping his head back down to kiss you. He kisses your lips sloppily, then your cheek and down your jaw, your neck, nipping at the skin and soothing the marks with his tongue. It feels hot and passionate, and loving and dirty; all the best things at once. 
“Oh, god,” you moan as he kisses further down your body, still stroking his cock. He pauses momentarily to pull the strap of the apron over your head, then lifting your ass to untie the apron in the back. He pulls the fabric away from you quickly, tossing it on the floor. He kisses your chest, dividing his attention equally between your breasts. Pinching, twisting one nipple, kissing and licking the other, then switching. He leaves them wet with his spit as he kisses down your body, stopping before he reaches your pussy. “Joel,” you whine, “Please– need your mouth on me.”
“Oh, convenient. Now you want my mouth,” he breathes, teasing you.
“Please, I need it, need you,” you beg. 
“Wouldn’t ya know it, I need your mouth too.”
“So? Me first.”
“God, you’re a brat. Nice try,” Joel pulls away from your body, taking off his clothes quickly, “Said we’re doin’ things my way. Tryin’ somethin’ new today. Scoot,” he motions for you to move to the side. “On all fours, now. Come on, up,” you scoot to the side where Joel tells you to, slightly confused as you take the position. Joel takes his place next to you, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you down to his face. “Sit,” he tells you.
“Joel,” you begin to protest. Surely he doesn’t want you to actually sit on his face, right?
“You trust me.” It’s not a question. He knows you trust him, he knows you know he’ll take care of you. Of course he will. His voice is firm, confident, “I need you to sit,” as he pulls your center to his mouth, wasting no time in pressing kisses into your folds, slick and sticky with your growing arousal. Your breasts are pressed against his soft stomach, hands gripping his meaty thighs. Freeing an arm from its place at your hip, Joel wraps his hand around his cock, rock hard with a swollen blushed tip. He uses his other hand to reach for your head, pushing your face towards his member. “Take me in your mouth,” he says. “See? We’re compromising. S’what people in love do.” What an asshole.
Wrapping a hand around his thick cock, you guide his tip to your mouth, pressing wet kisses against the smooth skin. He tastes like he always does, familiar and masculine, salty and sweaty, as you trace over his swollen veins with your tongue. Joel groans against your cunt as he parts your lips, your tongue still painting delicate swirls on his skin. 
“Yeah, attagirl,” he praises in a raspy voice, “Best of both worlds, ain’t it?” Joel laps at your cunt, moaning softly at the way you taste, your arousal almost as sweet and delicious as your cinnamon rolls from earlier. He keeps you held firm against his face as he licks you, alternating between drawing firm lines with the tip of his tongue and fat stripes with his tongue flattened. 
“Mmmm,” you moan, voice muffled by his cock. You’ve got him as deep as you can take him, your nose nudging his balls slightly as you cup them gently in your hand. Joel surprises you when he dips his tongue into your pussy, tasting every bit of your pussy. You stop what you’re doing, the only thing your mind can focus on is the feeling of his tongue working magic inside you.
He swats your hip, “Know it feels good, but it goes both ways, sweetheart.”
“Please, Joel,” you beg. 
“You know the rules,” he says, “You stop, I stop. Keep goin’, you’re suckin’ my cock so good, sweetheart. So good. Always do, you know that?” You begin to bob your head on his cock once more, Joel rewarding you with wet, sloppy, open mouthed kisses against your pussy. It takes everything you have to focus on his pleasure when he attaches his lips to your clit, sucking gently on the sensitive spot and humming against you. It’s not long before that familiar feeling begins to build in your stomach, your first orgasm washing over you. 
You gasp for air, “Oh my god, Joel,” as he works you through your climax. Joel never lets up, not once. He keeps sucking, licking your clit, his facial hair tickling your skin and only adding to the overwhelming sensation. Once more, your peak begins to build. “I’m– fuck, I’m gonna come again.” 
“S’the fuckin’ point, my love,” Joel mumbles quietly, and you can feel his smirk. Despite the rules, you’re not even sucking his cock anymore, your face instead resting on his body, haphazardly stroking his length as pleasure erupts from your core. You’re a moaning mess, pussy dripping and soaking Joel’s face. 
Joel gives you a moment to catch your breath. Underneath you, he places one last kiss right on your clit before he gently slides himself out from your body. You’re hardly coherent as he meets you once more, this time his face inches above yours, caging you in his arms. His cock bounces between your legs and he leans down to kiss you again. His lips are wet and you can taste your arousal on his tongue. “Look at that, I stole another one,” he taunts. 
“You’re a dick,” you breathe against his mouth, your body betraying you as you can’t help the smile that forms on your lips.
“Yeah, yeah,” and in one swift motion, Joel lines himself up with your entrance and pushes into you. He kisses you again, swallowing your gasp as he parts your insides, letting you feel every inch of him. God, he feels good. You’ll never tire of that stretch, that delicious feeling of being completely full of him. 
“Oh, Joel,” you moan. He pulls out slowly, then slides back in at a harsher pace, grunting when he bottoms out inside of you. He takes both of your hands in his own, pinning them above your head as he rocks his hips. It’s tender yet dominant, just how everything is with Joel. Just how you like him. 
“Love this pussy,” he purrs, “An’ I love you so much,” as he fucks you deeply, intensely. You whimper through his thrusts, each stroke fluid and firm and intentional. He knows your body like his own. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. You always do.”
You writhe underneath him, relishing in the pleasure he gives you. His name and sweet whisperings of love are all you can speak, each word coming out in soft, broken cries. The wet, sticky noises of your pussy fill the room, along with your moans and Joel’s grunting, groaning, and heaving breaths. You tilt your head to the side, arms still pinned beneath Joel’s hands. You kiss his wrists and bite his skin there gently.
“Come with me, baby,” he coos, adjusting the angle and finding that sweet spot inside you, that spot he knows and loves. He lets go of your arms, one of his big, masculine hands now on your waist, the other thumbing your clit. “Give me one more, sweetheart.”
It’s all it takes. His words send you over the edge, your pussy squeezing him, walls fluttering and pulsing with every thrust of his cock. “Fuck, Joel,” you whimper as he fucks you through your orgasm. You wrap your legs around his body, the heels of your feet bouncing against his ass, simultaneously pulling him into a tight embrace with your now free arms. Everything about this moment with Joel is perfect, the way he smells, his hot skin, how close and safe you feel with him. It sends Joel over the edge, too. With your name on his lips, your cunt gushing and pulsing around his cock, he spills inside you, painting ribbons of himself deep inside you as he helps you ride out your own climax as long as he can. 
He pulls out of you with a soft groan. He cleans you quickly with his t-shirt, a warm smile on his lips. He kisses your forehead, then sits back against the couch, catching his breath. You sit up too, and Joel holds out his arm as an invitation for you to curl into his side. Your head resting on his shoulder, you stare at him. All of his beautiful features, warm brown eyes, his smile lines, his aquiline nose. And then, you do it. You kiss him. Long and deep, passionate. Hours could be passing, you don’t know. 
Joel breaks the kiss. He pulls away from you, no longer smiling warmly. Instead, he wears his teasing grin. “Finally,” he smirks. He holds up his hand for a high five. Fucker. You roll your eyes, lifting yourself off the couch and buttoning Joel’s flannel over yourself. You make your way to the kitchen, finding a plate and placing two cinnamon rolls on them. You reach for an old pencil that sits on the window sill, scribbling ‘Ellie’ on a piece of nearby scratch paper and leaving it next to the plate. A deal is a deal, after all. 
“Don’t leave me hangin’, now,” Joel calls out to you from the living room. You turn around and he’s waving his hand, nagging you about his abandoned high five. 
You flip him off. Asshole. 
1K notes · View notes
simonrillleyyysss · 5 months
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simon with an s/o who is super duper smart!! like she studied astrophysics or SUMN and she’s like a researcher and she reads classic philosophy and is subscribed to a bunch of newsletters for different topics and she’s just,, so smart!! but not like street smart. she’s a clutz and she’s clueless and a bit dumb when it comes to the the day to day stuff and it’s so silly cause like. how. r u in such a prestigious field and you speak so eloquently yet also so silly stupid dumb?? it’s so cute
and his favourite thing is getting his smartypants nerdy little girlfriend into a babbling gushing mess under him, barely able to form coherent sentences as he bullies her soaked cunny :(( miss big shot researcher all fucked out and giggling, drooling and brainless AGHHRRN the brainrot is real
i love this!! socially unaware reader who’s a genius?? yes!!!
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Simon knows you’re intelligent, everyone does! You’re always spewing facts to him throughout the day, and he thrives for it! A new update about some snazzy topic, which he, does not entirely understand? Hell yeah! You’re happy and content, walking down the street with your hands linked, freehand scrolling through your phone.
“Oh!”
“Hm?”
“There’s a new—“
He’s so happy that you’re happy, doesn’t care if anyone else thinks you’re a snob, you’re not. You’re his smart cookie. His soft, silly smart cookie. He adores flexing it, too!
Sat on the sofa on a rainy day? He isn’t surprised when you’re nose is stuck in some big book about philosophical ideals and whatnot, peeks over your shoulder as his fingers tangle through your hair, kissing the back of your head.
“Seems snazzy.”
He mumbled lowly, hands squishing your cheeks from behind, watching you purse ur lips out.
“It is! It’s really interesting, would you like to read it after?”
“..I’ll pass, y’ can tell me about it, though. That’s better, innit?”
Watches you work from home, constantly. Finds it so interesting when you sit at your laptop, tapping at the keys so quickly while looking down at your big book of new information , all of which you’d written down recently, just sits at the corner of the bed and stares at you in awe.
Never trusts you to go out by yourself, always has you message him every once in a while when you’re out with your friends at dinner or anything—He’s not controlling, you can go out; but he just knows you’re not high in the social field of things, monkey say monkey do!
Smart? Yes, streetsmart? No.
So when you and him had went out shopping together, and some guy tried to hit on blissfully, happily unaware you? He was enraged, he knows you didn’t do anything, he knows it was all him, but he can’t help how angry it makes him.
Can’t help how he holds you down on the bed by your hips, thrusting his thick cock into your tight cunt, sniffling and whining in soft confusion, you didn’t do anything! So why was he ramming into your sensitive little pussy? Why was he abusing you softly and kissing your breasts if you didn’t do anything wrong?
“So-Mgmmng..Si—m’sorry!”
“Shhhh, Yr’ fine, sugar…I know y’didnt, jus’ stay quiet f’me, yeah?”
“A-mngh..Ohh, gosh! Are you mad at me?”
You gasped out, looking up at the blonde-haired man, who was softly peppering pecks along your perky nipples, cock slamming into you repeatedly, watching your eyes roll back and lips part.
“Course not, mad at him—Yeah? Thinkin’ he has a chance with my girl.. Thinkin’ he can fuck your pretty lil’ pussy as well as I do.”
“Mmnngghh.Can’t..NoooooOOT him!-“
He chuckled, jutting his cock further in you a few times to emphasise his point, watching you squeal in pleasure, back arching; His thumb coming to brush right circles against your aching clit, feeling you tighten and spasm around him as your orgasm washed over you!
Or,
When you’re sitting atop his lap, riding him lazily as he reads your latest draft, brows furrowed as his arm slung around your hip protectively, listening to your little moans and u intelligible babbles, slouching over slightly—feeling his hand squish your hip and seeing you instantly readjust your frame, practically drooling down your chin.
Smart literally, Dumb socially.
1K notes · View notes
bleedingoptimism · 6 months
Text
Steve likes to watch youtube videos of a guy who restores old consoles. It soothing to him, it relaxes him. He likes watching how he restores them, fixes them, makes them look brand new.
He also enjoys watching him work for… other reasons. Weirdly, he thinks the guy is kind of hot, even if he never shows his face. He looks fit, with the way his shirts stretch over his chest and are loose on his tiny waist and he’s always wearing cool belts, black leather with studs or chains. He likes the way he moves around, manic and a little clumsy but incredibly precise when necessary.
Steve especially likes watching his hands, thick strong fingers, bony wrists, noticeable veins, and short clean nails that sometimes have chipped black polish adorning them.
He sometimes thinks about those hands when he's alone, but, well… no one needs to know about that.
🎮🤲💖
Eddie has a fairly popular youtube channel… And a huge crush on his next-door neighbor. He simply cannot decide if the dude is cutter than hot or vice-versa.
'He sure is nice, though,' he thinks, when one day he gets a large package of replacement parts that he’s struggling to get inside and the guy walks up to him, asks if he needs any help, and takes the heaviest box with no effort at all.
He says his name is Steve and then stares at Eddie's hand for a really long time when Eddie extends it for him to shake after getting the boxes inside his studio.
He hears Steve’s little 'oh', under his breath and then sees him blush prettily before mumbling ‘He needs to go, now.' And stumbling out of Eddie’s place.
Eddie chuckles to himself as he watches him leave, definitely cute AND hot in equal parts.
🎮🤲💖
A few weeks later Steve's mom tells him she needs help getting rid of some of his nonno's old things and he finds a LOT of cool stuff that look just like the ones Eddie restores on his channel.
He and Eddie have been slowly getting friendlier over these last couple of weeks and he’s been dying to have an excuse to talk to him more, so he takes the items home and then goes to Eddie's and very nervously tries to offer them to him but doesn't know how to explain he knows he's a youtuber without looking like a weirdo because Eddie’s never shown his face.
He stumbles and blushes a lot, barely making any sense and Eddie mistakenly thinks he's trying to ask him out and says, 
"I'd love to go on a date with you," Smiling and hiding his dimples behind a lock of hair he's been playing with since the moment Steve started stuttering.
Steve completely forgets what he was trying to say or do and says he'll pick him out at 6.
The date is amazing, it feels like they are meant to be. They get along so well, talking, laughing, and already making fun of each other as if they’re old friends. And they are definitely attracted to one another. If the way Eddie practically tackles Steve with his rush to get his mouth on him when they get back, it’s any indication.  
Steve is very on board with this and he enthusiastically kisses him back. They kiss desperately as he fumbles with his door handle to get it open. When he succeeds, he walks them backward into his place not wanting to stop kissing Eddie, but stumbles and falls flat on his ass.
When Eddie turns on the light he sees Steve sprawled on top of a bunch of boxes full of old technology. A lot of emotions go through his face, ‘he’s so expressive’ Steve thinks a little enamored, having still not realized how much trouble he’s in.
But Eddie looks confused, then shocked and scared, and finally, angry,
"Steve, what the fuck?"
‘Oh, shit…’
“I can explain!” he says immediately, standing up and walking toward Eddie as he backs away,
“I didn’t want to ask you out-” Steve starts but interrupts himself when Eddie huffs, turns, and starts walking towards his own apartment, “Shit, fuck! No- That’s not what I meant, Eddie! Wait-”
He turns again and glares at Steve but then his eyes go wide, “Steve,”
“Please, let me explain-”
“Steve-”
“I did- do! Want to ask you out! I like yo-”
“Steve!” Eddie screams and Steve stops, shocked, and finally focuses. Eddie is staring at him and he’s so pale even his freckles have changed color. But no, wait. He’s not staring at him, he’s staring at his arm and Steve looks down to see… a lot of blood.
“Oh,” he says faintly. He must have cut himself on a sharp edge when he fell. Too worried about Eddie, he hadn’t even noticed the pain, but now that he’s seeing the cut, it fucking hurts.
“Oh,” he says again, realizing he’s feeling kind of dizzy, ‘that's way too much blood,’ he thinks.
“Jesus Christ!” Eddie huffs, takes off his flannel shirt and wrapping it around Steve's arm, he pulls Steve by his other hand toward his van.
“Oh no, your cute shirt,” he mumbles and hears Eddie snort before he slams the door of the passenger seat and goes to the driver’s one.
They go to the hospital in silence. It's tense. Steve tries to explain himself but Eddie shuts him up harshly, tells him to save his energy.
Even so, when they get there, Eddie still holds him gently by his good arm as he helps him inside. He tells the nurse what happened because Steve is having a hard time focusing right now and then tells him he’ll wait outside for him.
He gets stitches and a tetanus shot just in case because he doesn't remember when was the last time he got one and gets weird looks when he refuses painkillers, but no arguments. He’s given a little juice box and is told he can't get up until he finishes it.
A few seconds after the nurse leaves, the door opens and Eddie walks in. Steve looks up and smiles at him, but Eddie doesn’t smile back and Steve shrinks a little on himself.
Eddie sits on the chair facing the overbed table Steve is perched on and sighs, moving his hand in little circles motioning like, ‘Well go on. Explain yourself’
Steve looks around the room and thinks about where to start. He can't look Eddie in the eye, so he stares at the little juice box in his hands. It's got a cartoon orange in the front. The drawing it’s awful and kind of scary.
Taking a deep breath, he starts, “I've been watching your videos for a long time now. I have- I am- I-”
He fumbles for what to say, even if this date is already ruined…it's not exactly a good first date topic, is it? How fucked up he’s inside.
In a flash, images of his father’s violence, running from home with his mom, going to live with his nonno, taking care of him as he slowly lost his mind with age while his mom worked her ass off to feed them, getting cheated on, losing his “friends” because he didn't want to bully freshmen, working as a babysitter and getting almost beat up to death by his kid’s stepbrother… he shakes his head and shrugs,
“I've been through some…stuff” is what he says in the end, looking up at Eddie. He doesn't look mad anymore, his expressive eyes look concerned. Steve worries about what was it Eddie saw in his own expression, but it surprises him how easily he read him. He’s usually so good at hiding it. 
He breathes in again and keeps going, “Your videos, they calm me down when I've, sometimes I get anxious and-” he clears his throat, again, not wanting to tell Eddie about the panic attacks, the nightmares.
But it seems he doesn't have to, Eddie looks at him like he gets it.
It makes Steve want to keep talking, “Watching you work, seeing you fix things, leave them like new, no sca- marks, no problems, just working again and beautifully clean. It makes me feel better.” 
Eddie gives him a small smile and Steve returns it, “I really like your hands…” he blurts out and then closes his mouth quickly, blushing furiously.
Eddie’s eyes go wide and then he smirks and stands up slowly walking up to him and taking Steve’s hands on his own, they both stare at their joined hands for a while, the touch feather-like and soft.
“You recognized me because of my hands?” Eddie asks him a little incredulous.
Steve giggles, “I saw the logo for your channel on your studio that day I helped you with the boxes,” he clarifies sheepishly.
Eddie blushes and opens his mouth in a silent ‘oh,’
Steve draws small circles on Eddie's knuckles with his thumbs, “When I came over today, I was just trying to offer you those stuff at my place, they were my grandfather's” he explains, “I didn’t know how to say I knew who you were without looking like a weirdo and I got nervous and you thought I was going to ask you out and I wasn’t planning to but you are so beautiful I-
Eddie kisses his cheek and Steve shuts up and looks at him surprised,
“I’m sorry I freaked out,” Eddie says, “I thought- I don’t know what I thought- I was just upset you didn’t actually like me.” 
And Steve immediately answers, “I like you” a little too excitedly.
Eddie smiles at him so warmly it makes his heart rate pick up, “Good. I like you too.”
He blushes and looks down at their hands again unsure, “Do you really? Even tho I’m…”
“What?” Eddie asks, squeezing his hands reassuringly.
“Broken?” Steve whispers.
Eddie hums and drops his hands to hold his face, “Not broken, baby” he says lovingly and kisses the crease between Steve’s brows, the top of his eyelid, his nose, and the corner of his mouth. Then hugs him and Steve buries his face on Eddie's neck, and breathes him in.
A minute goes by or an hour, Steve is not sure, and Eddie leans back enough to kiss him again softly and whispers, “Some things don't need to be fixed Steve, just held.” 
𝒻𝒾𝓃
coffee? a hug? ☕🥐💕
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rinhaler · 6 months
Note
Rin Itoshi and female s/o taking each other first time
omgggggg i tried to make it romantic and sweet but i do love a slutty ass dude who's in control so apologies if this isnt exactly what u wanted hehe
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, virgin!rin, virgin!reader, fingering, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, tit sucking, "just the tip" pfft, slight manipulation, brief condom use, premature ejaculation, creampie.
words: 2.9k
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Your heart races as you watch Rin scroll through his phone and find some music to play. He looks so serious, though that’s nothing new. You don’t dare speak, worried you’ll say the wrong thing if you do. He looks up at you, briefly, offering a weak smile before looking through his phone again.
“We don’t have to do this, you know.” he tells you without even looking at you. You watch him as he starts hooking up his phone to the Bluetooth speaker in your room, and you shuffle uncomfortably on top of your bed.
“I want to… ‘m just scared.” you confess, breath shaking slightly as you exhale. “Do you still want to?” you wonder, feeling shy as you ask. You’re sure he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to, though.
Rin doesn’t do anything he has no interest in.
“Yeah.” he tells you, setting his phone down before looking back at you, finally. He’s so far away, it feels too formal. Though you assume he wants to set the pace and make sure everything is comfortable for you both before you proceed. “We agreed,”
“I know.” you nod, recalling the moment you decided as teenagers to give each other your virginities if you hadn’t lost them after you turned twenty. “Just checking.”
The concept of Rin being single, let alone a virgin, is something you can’t even begin to comprehend. You’ve been best friends with him since you could talk. You remember him having no interest in you until you forced your way into playing soccer games with him and his brother. You soon gave it up once you got what you wanted, but you’ve been inseparable ever since.
Girls have always thrown themselves at Rin, but he never cared. Not really. You remember him having one girlfriend and it never went anywhere. It only lasted three weeks. He told you the gory details of their sex lives, though. Only because you asked.
It didn’t go past hand stuff.
“I brought condoms.” he tells you, pulling a box from his bag and setting them down on the desk he’s sitting by.
“I- I’m on the pill.” you respond. “I heard it feels better without… those. But we should use them.”
“Okay, yeah.” he agrees.
“… but we don’t have to.”
“I’ll use one.” he assures you, not wanting to make you feel pressured to go raw for his benefit. Though you’re sure it would be for yours, too. “If you want me to take it off, I can do that.”
You nod, agreeing.
“This is so…” you think, searching around the room for any inspiration of a descriptor to use. He stares at you, intently, wondering what you might say. He’d never tell you, but he’s just as nervous as you are. Of course he has an edge of experience ahead of you, but he’s still clueless. He wants to make sure this is going to be nice for you.
Perfect, if possible.
“What?”
“Formal.” you shrug.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” he responds, scratching his neck as he thinks about what you told him. He looks around, feeling a little too awkward to make eye contact. “I just want to make sure everything’s going to be okay…”
“It’s fine, you’re right.” you smile, “I just thought my first time would be… romantic. It’s stupid, I’m sorry.” you shake your head, dismissing the idea.
You knew you’d end up here with him eventually. You had no intention of losing your virginity to anyone else, after all. You’ve been in love with him for years, and finding out he got a girlfriend almost killed you. It was hard hearing about how they became intimate, but you were so fucking relieved when they broke up.
He only decided to get a girlfriend because he thought you weren’t interested in him, though. You’ve always been a forbidden fruit he wouldn’t dare try to cross a line with. You’re his best friend, after all. He wouldn’t want the romantic feelings he has towards you to ruin that.
“It’s not stupid.” he assures you. “Here, pick some music.” he hands you his phone.
You start to scroll and realise you’re looking on a playlist he created aptly named sex playlist. It makes you giggle, but you don’t comment. And you don’t pay him any mind as he leaves the room while you continue searching for a song.
The boy has good taste, you soon realise.
He comes back a few minutes later with some candles from a nearby cupboard. He knows you too well. You hoard them, you always have. You get an abundance each year for Christmas and rarely use them. He starts lighting them and placing them around the room.
You finally look up as he turns the light on, the room dimly lit by the burning flames scattered around.
“Is this better? I should have gotten some rose petals or something…”
“N-No, this is fine.” you smile, “Thank you, Rinnie, this is nice.”
He clears his throat and sits beside you on your bed. You quickly hand him his phone, prompting him to lean over to place it back down on your desk.
Your heartbeat begins to increase rapidly as he faces you. You haven’t even so much as kissed before, let alone what else will follow. He reaches out to caress your face, and it takes all of your willpower to not flinch.
“R-Rin… do you, um, d-do you watch…”
“Porn? Yeah. Do you?”
His reply makes your face flush with heat and the thought of confessing your own truth makes you even hotter. You look away from him, twiddling your fingers in your lap and looking at those instead.
“I know it won’t be like that… it’s your first time. And mine.” he reminds you.
He’s always been so mature. And you’re glad he’s doing all he can to put you at ease. He puts a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him again. You gulp, nervously, before nodding. He smirks at that.
“Good, I’m glad,” he tells you, beautiful jade eyes flickering with flames as he stares at you. “Means you know what you like.” he leans into you, an attempt to kiss which you immediately back away from. And you apologise, profusely, assuring him that you’re still a little nervous.
“I— I know guys can, you know, it can be quick… s-so don’t feel bad.”
“Don’t worry about that.” he shakes his head. “If I cum quickly, I’ll make sure you finish.”
He closes the distance between the two of you, his lips planting softly on your own. His eyes close as he loses himself to it, though you keep yours open for a little while as you process what is happening.
You’re making out with your best friend!
Though when his large, dominating hands begin to fondle your chest, you pull away entirely.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?” he wonders.
“N-No, I didn’t expect you to be so confident.” you whisper, and he kisses you again, smiling into it.
Your eyes close as you allow him to continue locking lips with you. His hand entirely gropes one of your tits and his thumb casually strokes over it. Even through the layers of your crop top and bra, you find yourself mewling softly.
He smooths his hand over the curve of your waist until he reaches the bottom of your crop top. His fingers breach upwards towards your bra, roughly groping at it and the fat of your tits.
“O-Ow.” you speak, softly.
“Sorry,” he whispers back, “Can I take your top off?” he asks between continuous kisses.
“Uh-huh.” you nod, dumbly.
He breaks the kiss to quickly pull your crop top over your head. His lips attach to yours again almost instantly as he starts to fiddle with your bra. He stops kissing you, again, to look over your shoulder so that he can undo the clasp. You gasp when he finally unhooks it, keeping the pink material against your chest to preserve your modesty.
“Can I see?” he asks, his eyes moving between yours and your hands. You hum, nervously, but nod. He helps you pull down your straps as you keep the material held firmly against your chest. Sighing, slightly panic in your voice as you strip the material away. “Fuuuuck…” he mutters to himself, adjusting his hardening cock in his pants as he looks at you.
“You should take something off.” you suggest before he can kiss you again. He immediately pulls his t-shirt over his head, tousling his hair back into place right after.
You continue to moan against his lips when he kisses you again. And they only get louder as he kisses down your neck whilst flicking his thumb over your pebbled nipple. He grunts against your skin, battling on whether he should say something to you or stay silent.
He’d hate to ruin the mood.
“Are you hard yet?” you ask him, your shy demeanour leaving you as you lose yourself to the sensation of his hands caressing your body. “S-Should we do it?”
“Wanna feel?” he asks, not waiting for an answer as he pulls your hand towards the bulge in his jeans, moaning immediately from the contact. “Look what you’ve done to me.” he laughs, pulling you closer and hooking one of your legs over his own.
He scratches the back of his nails up your thigh, stopping just short of dipping under your skirt as you shiver from the touch. His eyes find yours, kissing you reassuringly.
“Can I feel you?” he wonders, and, of course, you nod. His fingers disappear under your pleated skirt, quickly cupping your panty-clad mound. He barely gasps when he comes into contact with your panties. “You’re so wet…”
“S-Stop…” you reply, shyly, “s’embarrassing…” you tell him.
“You need to be wet for me,” he responds, that big, logical, brain of his immediately putting you in your place. Reminding you that he is the one with a little more experience and you need to listen to him. “You’ll be so tight… even for a finger.”
He forces your body down, flat against the bed and flips up your skirt. The cute triangular shape of your panties makes his cock throb, and he moves them into the crease of your thigh.
“Tell me if it hurts…” he requests, staring into your eyes as deft fingers come into contact with sopping flesh. He runs them through your folds, and you jolt when a finger tip grazes your clit. He moves it towards your hole, slowly teasing around it before pushing in. He stops, quickly, when you yelp. “Sorry, I’ll go slower. Hold onto me.” he instructs, a hand wraps around his bicep and squeezes as he continues to plunge his longer finger deep inside.
“Kiss me,” you whimper, pathetically. He drops his head so that your lips can meet again. He devours the moans and cries you emit as he curls his finger in and out of you. It feels odd, but not unpleasant. It’s still painful but it begins to subside.
“Gonna add another, okay?” he asks, and you nod. You hiss, instantly, hands flying down to pull his away. “Sh, sh sh, I’ll go slow again, okay? Gotta be able to take them or we can’t fuck.”
You fight back tears as the stretch begins to sting. He sinks his head lower, taking one of your hardened nipples into his mouth. Your back arches off the bed slightly, coaxing him to look up at you. And then he remembers all of articles he’s read. All of the research he’s done.
He even thinks about his teammates talking about sex.
“You have to worship the clit.” he recalls one of them saying.
He pulls away from your tit, briefly, to line his thumb up with your clit and apply pressure. He circles it carefully, monitoring your expressions as he does. You yelp, trying to close your legs, but he opens them back up with his free hand.
“Are you gonna cum?” he wonders.
“It’s too much, Rinnie!” you gasp, skin tightening over your knuckles until they turn white as you grip the sheets. “S-Slow down, please! S’too much!” you cry, unable to hold back your tears any longer.
He doesn’t relent, however. Hoping the way your body trembles means you’re about to cream all over his fingers. It was an achievement he never reached with his ex without her assistance. She showed him how and where to touch to make her cum. But you’re not her. You’re perfect.
You gasp, breathlessly, as your pussy begins to tighten around his fingers. Your clit throbs as he teases it just right and you begin to cum hard and fast for him. He kisses between the valley of your breaths, whispering sweet nothings as you reach your peak and plummet back down to earth. He slows down his ministrations as you begin to shudder and twitch from the after shocks, looking up at you adoringly when you start to calm down.
“Good?” he asks.
“Very,” you pant, laughing lightly as you find your sense again. “Rinnie…” you speak, your confident bravado disappearing again as you feel naked and exposed.
“Yeah?”
“Promise me… promise you’re a virgin, too…” you say, looking up at the ceiling. You feel too needy and desperate as you speak. But that was too good for him to not know what’s he’s doing. He’s seriously only done that once on another girl? It’s a little hard to believe.
“I promise. Was it really that good?” he smirks. He kisses both of your nipples softly before sucking his fingers clean of your juices. “I’ve been preparing… reading about stuff. Asking advice. I’ve told you everything I’ve done, I swear.”
He stands up, unbuttoning his jeans and kicking off his shoes at the same time. He pulls of his jeans and underwear in the same movement, revealing his large, blushing cock.
“We don’t have to do this.” he assures you, picking up a condom from your desk and tearing the foil with his teeth. He rolls it down his length, the rubbery sheen covers the pretty pink colour of his dick. “Do you want to stop?”
“Um,” you think about it. He’s asking as if he isn’t already raring to go. You look between his erection and his intimidating stare as you think about what to say.
“What about just the tip?” he asks. And at that, you nod. He reaches under your skirt and pulls down your panties to ogle your drippy cunt one more time. He feels himself throb at the thought of splitting your virgin hole open on his fat cock. He’s always known he was big, and he really doesn’t want to hurt you. He can only hope his fingering was enough prep before you rob each other of your innocence for good.
He lines up his cockhead with your virgin slot as he cages you in beneath his wide frame. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to kiss you, your moan semi silenced as he pushes his tip in.
Oh God this isn’t enough.
He knew he’d need more.
Just a little more.
He pushes in a bit further, and you pull your lips away from his to voice your concern.
“H-Hurts,” you tell him. “You’re really big.” you inflate his ego further, earning another inch of his cock.
He can’t help it, you’re spurring him on!
And he can only imagine how much better you’d feel wrapped around him without this stupid fucking rubber on. He stops pushing when you place your palms on his shoulders, forcing him to pull back a little. “Is it the condom, Rin? Is it t-too dry?” you wonder, batting your eyelashes up at him so innocently.
“Yes.” he replies, without hesitation. “I’ll take it off.”
He pulls out of you instantly. He hisses a little as he pulls at the condom too hard and it snaps back. He decides to push it up from the base of his cock, lining up with your cunt again right after.
And it’s like you’re made for him as he pushes in. He smothers any whimper you can make with a searing kiss. You feel his tongue slip into your mouth as he pushes in further and further until there’s nothing left to give.
You’re crying, again, not expecting to feel so much so soon.
“God, you’re beautiful.” he praises you. He moves his hips, slowly. His cockhead unintentionally nudges against your soft spot with every rut. The blinding pleasure prevents you from telling him, once again, that it hurts and it’s too much. “I know I said just the tip, jus’ feel so good, princess.” he whispers delicately against your skin.
And, as expected, he doesn’t last long.
A few pathetic strokes of his cock inside of you have him spilling thick spurts of white cream into your unprotected walls. He collapses on top of you, panting violently as he stuffs you full.
He was so backed up before this. He masturbates, of course, but not as much as the average guy. You’ve had this planned for a few weeks, now, so he decided to abstain so he could really enjoy feeling you for the first time.
“Fuck, ‘m sorry. Should have jerked off before I came over.”
“It’s okay.” you tell him, fingers mussing through his hair as you come to terms with the fact that you’ve finally lost your virginity, to your best friend of all people.
“I need to fuck you again,” he confesses, your fingers stop as you look down at him.
“W- now?”
“Soon,” he corrects you. “I want to taste you first.”
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© 2023 rinhaler
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01zfan · 4 months
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argue with you | s. es
valedictorian!eunseok x debate team leader!reader | 6.6k words
a request that i really enjoyed writing. part two here!
contains: academic rivals, semi public shenanigans, hand stuff (f. and m. receiving.)
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you loved debate. you joined it because it was a mix of two things you loved in life, arguing with people and winning. you were grateful that you were able to get close with the people on the debate team too, finding kids your age with such interesting minds. you loved everyone on your debate team and they loved you, so it was no surprise when you were unanimously voted the leader of the debate team. life was perfect on the debate team.
until eunseok joined.
it was a normal day after school, following your friends as you walked in a group to the debate practice room.
“our sponsor said someone new is joining the team.” giselle said to your group.
“this late?” wonbin asked.
“technically the season has barely started. we are still prepping for tournaments.” yunjin said.
your crew was behind you as you opened the door to the debate room. you looked back at them, not expecting anyone to be in the room yet.
“yeah but still. unless he has previous knowledge about debate he will just drag the rest of us down.” you said.
the shocked expression on yunjin’s face told you everything you needed to know. eunseok sat at one of the tables, hearing everything you said about him. 
you didn’t hate eunseok when he first joined. you actually felt pretty bad for making such a terrible first impression. eunseok was also projected to be the valedictorian, you could never bring yourself to hate someone who was so smart. you immediately apologized, saying you didn’t know he was in the room but he said nothing in response. eunseok being indifferent towards you was a first. many gravitated towards you or spoke about you in high regard. being liked came easily for you, so the fact that eunseok couldn’t be bothered irked you to no end.
you were surprised you had never crossed paths with eunseok before. you never had him in any of your classes despite both of you being enrolled in the same curriculum. you didn’t know him, your social circles didn’t collide either. he had joined the debate team late in the semester, wanting a final thing to put on his college applications. you thought it was ridiculous. he was already top of his class what more did he need? 
because eunseok joined the debate team with such high markings he came with an attitude you didn’t like. he was careless, didn’t take notes and always debated in the affirmative. he was novice at best, always trying to take you on in policy debates. at first it was easy to crush him, pointing out his ad populum fallacies and taking advantage of his lack of knowledge. he had it coming, challenging the best debater on the team. he refused to study so you threw the book at him each time, winning your debates with ease. people on your team always watched the arguments. they were ooo’ing and ah’ing as you two fought it out.
you couldn’t help but get even more upset at eunseok remaining nonchalant through every debate. even if he got hit with a penalty or his argument was rebutted he’d let it wash off him like rain, shrugging his shoulders before moving to the next topic. you wanted to best him, you wanted to see him break a sweat.
to your disliking he quickly improved. it was unfair, someone so uninvolved with debate coming in and learning everything with ease. it wasn’t long before he had you struggling to counter his arguments. when he first argued with you in a negative it filled you with rage. how did he get so good? it didn’t help that he swayed the lay judges, his confidence when speaking made the average person who didn’t know about policies believe that eunseok had the answers. his attitude didn’t just win over the lay judges, but also your team. he won them over quickly, they thought he was charismatic and funny.
it wasn’t long until he was voted to be the co-leader of the team and your individual events turned to public forum debates with eunseok as your partner.
“looks like we are going to be getting real close.” eunseok said, looking at your names side by side on the competition sheet.
you scoffed and rolled your eyes. you believe the debate gods had it out for you. everyone else on debate said that you two were the dream team and your probability of winning was high. your probability to win alone was higher, and eunseok would just drag you down.
“just don’t get in my way, eunseok.” you said.
you looked up at the man with the most hate you could muster in your body. you almost felt bad when you saw sadness wash across his face, but it was quickly replaced with his same nonchalant expression. he shrugged his shoulders and put his hand on your tense ones. you got indignant from his touch but he smirked.
“we will do well.” eunseok said simply.
no matter how much you hated to admit it, you two did make a good team. his confidence and talent for public speaking combined with your arguments you two were unbeatable. it wasn’t long before you took your team to nationals for the first time in your school’s history. it was becoming harder and harder to hate eunseok. it turned into a mild disliking that formed because of a misunderstanding. you were determined to keep up appearances, rolling your eyes when he would be mentioned or when he’d put his arm on your shoulder and call you ‘partner’. 
you started to think eunseok liked trying to piss you off. he would always be in your personal space, walking behind you through crowds of people, saying your name constantly, always having that teasing tone to his voice. he was also always stuck to you, following you everywhere especially at debate tournaments. he sat next to you on the bus, lifting up your headphones to talk to you directly in your ear.
“we’re here.” he said.
you snatched your headphones away from him and gave him your best glare. eunseok developed the nasty habit being annoying just to get a rise out of you. some of the only times you’d see him break the calm demeanor he had debating was when he’d smile after telling you a bad joke or stepping on the backs of your shoes. each time you rolled his eyes and he would place his hands on your shoulders. it seemed like his favorite place to be sometimes, shaking you lightly as you shrugged him off.
you get up from the front seat of the bus. your team progressively woke up from their naps. the drive was about an hour and a half. you saw your team yawn and stretch, looking for their things in the seat. you stretch too, turning around getting ready to read the itenerary and the list for debates today.
“everyone pay attention.” eunseok said from his seat beside you.
no one told eunseok to sit next to you on the bus. you assumed it became an unspoken rule, the leader and co-leader sitting side by side. you considered this to be a plus as well, just in case you wanted to go over anything with eunseok before the tournament. you two rarely spoke on the bus ride to competitions though. it would always be a surprisingly not awkward silence.
eunseok didn’t have to raise his voice to get everyone to listen to him. you envied that about him, his ability to command a room. all eyes are on you as you clear your throat. 
“okay everyone. first and foremost, happy debate day.” you say smiling
“happy debate day!” everyone says back it back to you in unison. 
everyone cheers and you look at the clipboard with the debate assignments.
“okay so for our IE’s we have giselle, yeji, and anton.”
eunseok watches you read off their names like a teacher doing roll call. giselle, yeji, and anton all give you a nod after hearing their name to show they heard you. eunseok watched as you went down the list of names on the paper, quickly scanning for to see who would be debating. eunseok lingered on your furrowed eyebrow for a split second before brushing a piece of hair out of his face.
“for our policy debates we have our freshmen duos eunchae bahiyyih and kyujin jiwoo. this is their first national competition ever.” you exclaim and so does the rest of the bus. everyone cheers for the four girls, sinking in their backseats giggling.
“it’s a busy day for all of us but if you can please sit in on their debate to silently cheer them on.” you emphasis silently to look at eunseok. 
he shrugs his shoulders and the bus giggles. how was he supposed to know he wasn’t allowed to clap after a good argument? 
“we have yunjin running as support so don’t be afraid to run your notes by her, especially our IE’s.” you say, pointing your hand towards yunjin.
yunjin raises her hand from her seat in the middle to show everyone where she is. you rack your mind trying to think what other operational things you can say. you tap tap the clipboard against your hand, trying to see if the sound can rattle your mind enough to remember other things.
“don’t be afraid to approach the senior members of the team if you need help. also please travel in pairs if you’re going to the restroom. lunch is at 12:30 in the cafeteria. we will also get our room assignments for the hotel tonight so please be don’t skip it. oh, and our sponsor and chaperones are here too, they just arrived a little earlier to set up. everyone has their numbers right?” you ask.
everyone on the bus gives you the affirmative. you set your clipboard down at your side, almost done with your piece.
“this is our first nationals our school has ever been to so lets have fun and let’s win.”
you say your final line expecting cheers. everyone on the bus smiles or looks at you expectantly waiting to say something. 
you’re about to ask what’s wrong until you see eunchae’s hand in the back row seat raise. you look to her and you can see several people holding back laughs. you look to your side and see eunseok’s shameless toothy grin.
“eunchae what’s up?” you ask. 
you hear little concealed laughs. eunchae does her best at hiding a smile from her face.
“who’s doing the public forum debate?” eunchae asks.
her four friends all laugh and you can feel your face getting hot. you clear your throat, trying to show you’re unbothered.
“oh. for our public forum debate it’s eunseok and i.” you say. 
you don’t know why you sound bashful, or why eunseok looks down with a smile on his face. you try to say not funny but your voice is drowned out when the bus erupts in ooh la la’s and almost paradise’s. you hide behind your clipboard and eunseok takes the lead, standing up beside you.
“don’t worry about us. we got this win, right partner?” eunseok asks. 
you shrug him off again as people file off the bus, taking their name badges from you. when it’s just you and eunseok left you nearly push him back down in the seat with the amount of force you put behind giving him his name tag. eunseok takes the tag silently and he moves backwards further into the bus so you can get off first.
“don’t feed into it, please.” you say. 
your eyes are trained on the clipboard, rereading names and debate times over and over again. eunseok walks behind you closely, like a mother watching her child walk through a parking lot. he picks up his speed so he can stand beside you. eunseok contemplates something, his normal pace of walking falters for only a second. he then speeds past you, joining the rest of the team as they enter the school building. you follow behind them, confused as to why your heart dropped when eunseok didn’t try to crack a joke at your expense. 
you watched him all day. your debate didn’t start until after lunch, so you served as a mentor for the other events happening before you. you gave the freshmen tips on what to say during a debate, knowing your arguments strengths and weaknesses to make your arguments more solid. they gathered in your information with open ears, running things they were going to say by you just to double check the validity of their arguments. you watched eunchae nod her head enthusiastically as she made notes in the margins of her clipboard. 
when you were done talking to them, you could see those same people going to eunseok. you wondered what they were talking about, until you saw eunseok show them posture and how to give facial expressions to help sway the lay men. in the middle of eunseok showing bahiyyih how to calm her nerves he looked up and locked eyes with you. any other time you would’ve rolled your eyes at eunseok, continuing with whatever you were saying. but this time you found yourself being cut off mid-sentence, suddenly looking down with a smile on your face.
because of your free schedule, you were able to go to almost all of the events your team was involved in. it started with the freshmen girls, kyujin and jiwoo went first. they did well, taking your advice on the notes you gave them. you watched them give good rejection speeches to the policy proposed by the other team. you knew the kyujin and jiwoo would do well, they both had siblings who were involved in debate. so when they won it didn’t come as a surprise. you gave them a big thumbs up from the back of the room and the at the pair smiled at you. when you got up to congratulate them, you saw that eunseok was sitting in the front of the debate hall. he must have been there for the whole thing.
you don’t know why it surprised you. eunseok was only competing in one event like you were, so he had all day free too. it just seemed like it was out of his character to sit in and cheer for another team, especially since you had asked the debate team to stop by if they could. you don’t know if it surprised you more that eunseok was listening attentively or that he came to the back of the lecture hall and sat by you while they got ready for eunchae and bahiyyih’s debate.
“don’t be nervous. they got this,” eunseok said. “they have a good teacher.”
you turned to look at him but he wasn’t looking at you. eunseok’s eyes were trained on the stage while volunteers set up the tables for the next debate. you smile and lean back in the seat.
“you get it.” you say smugly. 
you can practically hear eunseok roll his eyes at you. he laughs lightly and you smile too. you don’t know you smile, or why teasing eunseok makes you feel a little sheepish. you’re grateful that a few people come from your team and sit by the two of you. you can only watch the first half of the debate before you and eunseok have to leave for your public forum debate.
the team wishes you luck and you ask them to stay to cheer on eunchae and bahiyyih. they listen to you, saying they’ll join in the later half if possible. you nod and leave, eunseok following behind you closely. to exit the lecture hall you had to climb a few stairs. you tried to ignore eunseok’s presence behind you, his hand ghosting the small of your back ready to catch you if you fall. 
“i got it.” you said. 
your words didn’t have the usual bite they had. you sounded shy if anything. eunseok tsked behind you, his hand falling back slightly but still there.
“okay princess.” he says mockingly. 
the nickname is what causes you to almost trip over the steps as you exit the hall.
the trek to the debate hall is a quiet one. the silence wasn’t awkward, sometimes you preferred that so you could collect your thoughts before a debate. eunseok was the opposite—usually the chatty type. eunseok would be talking about random things not even pertaining to the debate and he would be pestering you with questions. it did help sometimes, easing the stress you felt. but this competition was important, so you wanted to lock in and focus.
eunseok watched you pace back and forth in the hallway. you would occasionally mumble something to yourself, probably some talking point you wanted to drill into your mind. eunseok reviewed all his notes the night before and on the bus ride while you slept. looking at his notes the day before helped him more than your method. he enjoyed watching you, though. the way you walked back and forth with your furrowed eyebrows, practicing your expressions. it was like eunseok was able to get a peak into your inner thoughts and the way your mind worked. over the course of the preseason he was able to learn some of your ticks as well. he saw you take your bottom lip between two fingers, a telltale sign that. you were nervous. 
eunseok cleared his throat, reminding you that he was there. you looked at him with a little bit of softness, waiting for him to say something. he loved when you looked at him with a little tenderness. eunseok would never admit he liked debating with you so much because in these moments he got to see you be a little bit vulnerable. the anxiety before a debate wore down your iron resolve just a little and eunseok basked in it.
“are you ready?” eunseok asked.
“i’m a little nervous. this determines if we advance in the season.” you said.
eunseok nodded his head knowingly. he didn’t want to make a big deal out of comforting you, afraid that if he was too comforting the soft look in your eyes would disappear.
“we got this. all preseason you crushed it.” eunseok said.
“could i have even done it without you?” you said. 
eunseok was taken aback by your words. you were never the type to vocalizes insecurity, especially when it came to debate. eunseok couldn’t stop his hand from going to your shoulder. your eyes grew wide before you got ahold of your expression, trying to seem as calm as possible.
“you absolutely destroy everyone in the district in independent events. i’m sure they have you in public forum so you can have more variety on your resume.” eunseok said.
eunseok watched the lightbulb go off in your head.
“i had never considered that.” you said queitly.
eunseok shrugged and took his hand off your shoulder, despite his mind begging him to keep it there. he put his hands in his pockets to ball his fists up.
“we got this. you are super smart and knowledgable about the topic.” eunseok says, face feeling hot.
before you can thank him, the assistant moderator comes outside. she motions you two into the debate hall.
the debate goes by smoothly. eunseok is the best at delivering opening statements. his tone and body language helps accurately portray what you want the audience and laymen understand. his opening statements also give you time to collect your thoughts, calming any anxiety you may have. although you were opposed to sharing the debate floor with someone, eunseok really does help calm you down. you find yourself leaning on him during some parts of the debate, and it’s comforting to see him lean on you too. you both truly do make an excellent team, coming together for the common purpose of winning. 
there’s some sort of tension that begins to build during the end of the debate. after refuting an inaccuracy in the opposing teams argument, you find yourself looking to eunseok so he can give you a look that says “good job”. you even let him challenge a claim and watching him proudly as he calls out a fallacy you would call him out for during practice. eunseok smiles each time you smile at him.
when you two are announced as winners eunseok pulls you into a hug. the relief from winning the first competition of the season has you hugging him back. when you two pull away it’s a little awkward. eunseok helps put the medal on your head and you helps him too.
you two leave the debate hall to your team waiting to congratulate you. they say they didn’t doubt you would win, and you smile at all of them. you smile extra hard at eunseok and the way he praises you in front of your whole team. you take a picture together, biting your medals like it’s made of real gold. you feel eunseok’s hand rest on the small of your back while taking the photo, and you let him wrap an arm. around you waist as you two hold up your pointer finger. 
if anyone in your team noticed the tension they say nothing. but you can feel it growing between the two of you. you both sit at a table helping the rest of the team with their events before lunch when giselle comes up to you. 
she asks for a spare clipboard, folders, and to bring the papers the printed from the copy machine. going into the storage room is something that only leaders of the team are allowed to do. it helps prevent overcrowding or people going into the storage room that aren’t supposed to. giselle also needs to go over everything with yunjin, running to grab supplies would just take away from her precious prep time.
“i’ll go with you,” eunseok says. “just in case you have trouble reaching something.”
in any other instance you would’ve given him your signature scowl and ignore him. you don’t know you laugh at the comment, no one at your table does. they look at you like you’ve grown an extra head, cracking a smile at one of eunseok’s terrible jokes. you get ahold of yourself and start walking away, letting him follow you.
eunseok follows behind you, reeling off the fact he made you laugh. the silence you two had was a little awkward now, and you silently curse yourself for laughing.
inside of the storage room is cramped to say the least. the archaic printer takes up a majority of the space, and an even older wooden table sits in front of it. you wait for the million papers giselle printed out in complete silence. eunseok’s height actually was useful, grabbing the folders and clipboard on the very top shelf.
“good job today.” eunseok says.
you look at him only for a split second before going back to looking at the papers come from the printer.
“you too, eunseok. you’re really good at pointing out fallacies now.” you say.
“well that’s all thanks to you.” eunseok says.
it’s so cramped in the storage room he hits something as he brings his hand to scratch the back of his neck. you smile and shake your head.
“no that’s all you. you’re a fast learner.” you say.
“only because you pushed me to be.” eunseok laughs. “i know you hate me for joining so late and you think i don’t care about debate but i worked really hard to be good at it because of you.”
eunseok doesn’t know why he’s rambling off at the mouth going crazy with praising you. he finally gets you to look at him from the printer though. you have that same soft look you had outside of the debate hall.
“i don’t hate you, eunseok.” you protest. “i thought you hated me because of what i said when you first joined.”
eunseok shakes his head and laughs a little 
“i was never mad about that. i understood where you were coming from completely.”
the printer finishes its job while you and eunseok look at eachother. you can’t believe you spent this whole time thinking he hated you while it was all a misunderstanding. you feel embarrassed now, after all the times you were mean to him for no reason.
“i’m sorry.” you say sincerely.
“me too.” eunseok says back.
you two are silent and you go back to looking at the copy machine. eunseok clears his throat and you look at him. his expression had changed from a sorry one to a smirk. he leans against the large table and crosses his arms.
“you know, this whole time i thought you were being mean. but was it just flirting?” eunseok says.
you visibly stiffen at his comment. you turn to him wide eyed and in shock, eunseok looks at you with his mouth slightly open, proud of the reaction he’s able to pull from you.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you say, still wide eyed. 
eunseok slowly closes the space between the two of you. you suddenly are very aware of everything about him. the way he looks down at you. his hands, his mouth, his eyes. he’s so close to you it leaves nothing to imagination.
“it’s okay. do you know why i joined the debate team?” eunseok says.
he’s right in front of you now, and you can smell his cologne. you never realized how tall he was as he looked down at you. you shook your head, trying to find your voice. eunseok cocks an eyebrow and you clear your throat.
“for college applications?” you say meekly.
eunseok shakes his head.
“why would i need anything else on my college application?” eunseok asks.
“i don’t know.” you said.
“i actually joined because of this girl on the team i wanted to get to know better. so unfortunate i didn’t have a single class with her after all these years.” eunseok says.
you sit there and stare at eunseok. he just confessed to joining the team solely to get to know you better. now all the doting and teasing makes sense, but you still can’t believe it.
you’re in disbelief still when eunseok puts his hand underneath your chin to tip your head upwards. you are in disbelief when eunseok puts his lips on yours. you don’t know what comes over you when you pull at the sleeves of his sweatshirt. you suddenly can’t get enough of him, you want him all over you. you want to hear him praise you a million times over. you want to hear him call you a princess again. you stick your tongue into his mouth and he does the same to you.
both of your minds and bodies operate at a million miles a minute, focused solely on feeling everything. eunseok pulls you in closer, arching his body over yours. it feels like he’s going to swallow you whole the way he towers over your frame. you feel like your set on fire when eunseok’s hand goes to your ass and you jump up. he catches you with ease.
your body’s bump into almost every structure in the storage closet. you can feel your back press against the large printer and you can hear it being bumped into as eunseok turns you around. his hand leaves your body for only a second while he clears things off of the table. you hear clipboards, papers, and other office supplies hit the ground as eunseok sets you on top of the table gently.
eunseok pulls away from your lips. he looks at you and you look at him. for just a second it is completely silent in the storage room as you two stare at one another. you see out of the corner of your eye eunseok’s chest is heaving. you both give the other a chance to leave, a chance to profusely apologize for kissing. you stay on top of the table and look at eunseok’s pouting lips, hoping he gets the hint.
eunseok brings you in again with his hand underneath your chin leading you. it is softer than the first time, eunseok looking at your lips before they connect. he instantly deepens the kiss and you guys fight for a second trying to decide who gets to lead the other. you relinquish control to eunseok when you can feel him mess with the waistband of your pants. you let him undo the belt and the buttons. you do the same to him, using your shaking hands to pull down the zipper of his dress pants.
eunseok’s slacks drop to his ankles the same time he puts his hand underneath the waistband of your panties. eunseok uses his free hand to pull you closer to the edge of the table, for better access to you. eunseok wastes no time and you don’t either, not even bothering to pull down his boxers. you both put your hands to eachother at the same time, gasping into the kiss. eunseok pulls away from the kiss to look down at you. his mouth is still slightly open and so is yours, letting out long sighs as you guys slowly figure out what the other wants. eunseok teases your folds and you wrap your hands around his twitching dick. you both give one more look, this is your last chance to pull back from him. eunseok sticks a finger in you and you start slowly stroking him. eunseok looks away from you first, muttering a curse word as he puts his face in the crook of your neck. he presses his lips to your neck and suddenly you want him to leave a mark. 
you turn your head to face his as you pick up the speed of your hand. everything is rushed and you want to go as far as you can before the severity of the situation hits you. eunseok must feel the same way because he puts another finger inside of you. 
“you smell so good.” eunseok says.
he still stays in the crook of your neck and other hand has moved to your back. eunseok’s hand on your back alternates between moving up and down, pulling you closer to him, and grasping at your clothes like he can’t decide how he wants to hold you. you just let out a tiny sigh in response to him, scared to speak. if you say something it might snap eunseok out of whatever trance he’s in right now, and you are selfishly enjoying the way he bends his fingers inside of you.
“you’re so pretty.” eunseok says.
eunseok’s compliment was so quiet you truly don’t think you were meant to hear it. you convince yourself that he is just saying things in the heat of the moment. you don’t say anything back to eunseok, just pick up the pace of your hand. 
you can hear the table shake and slightly give underneath your weight. the creaking sound of the table mixes with the sloppy sounds of eunseok’s fingers inside of you and the wet sound of you jerking eunseok. his precum makes the job easy, you can feel it coming from his tip and lubricating his shaft. his dick is thick and heavy in your hand. you stop the intrusive thought of wondering what his dick looks like inside of his boxers. you wonder if his dick is as hot as the sounds he’s trying to muffle in your neck. you never took him for the whiny type, his sighs and quiet moans coming out in a higher pitch. eunseok pulls himself away from your neck to look down between the two of you.
eunseok is enthralled by the sight. he has never seen anyone like you, he’s never felt anything like this. he would’ve never thought he’d be here, trying to coax pretty little moans from your throat using his fingers. he wants to show you how good he is at this, but the situation and the way you look at him makes his hands unsteady. he’s positive he’s missing your clit and failing to hit those spots deep inside of you. he wishes he could take your pants off to really get inside of you and to see it all. but for now eunseok settles for fighting against the fabric of your wet panties pressed to the back of his hand as he fingers you. when you bring your head into his chest and pick up the pace he becomes more confident, doing the same action over and over again until your quiet moans become more frequent. eunseok can’t hold back his smile when your free hand grips the bicep of the hand that’s inside of you, digging nails into his skin.
“keep going.” you say breathlessly.
eunseok doesn’t falter and seeing you experience pleasure heightens his own. he can feel himself getting harder in your hand.
“i’m close.” eunseok says.
“me too. please don’t stop.” you whine into his chest.
eunseok brings you even closer to the edge of the table and you clench around him. you’re so close that you prepare yourself to bury your head into his sweater vest so your moans can’t be heard outside. 
“fuck. just like that.” eunseok says.
you keep up the pace of your hand. your nails dig deeper into eunseok’s skin. his hold on your lower back tighten.
you still have eunseok in your hand and he still has his fingers inside of you when the alarm on your phone goes off. the sudden blaring sound rips you both out of your reverie, and eunseok nearly jumps away from you.
you and eunseok stay like that for only a moment. something in the air of the storage room shifts almost immediately as you both start comprehending the situation. both of your eyes widen as you look up at him and he looks down at you.
eunseok suddenly pulls his fingers out of you and you take your hand out of his boxers. your shaking hands bring the zipper of your pants up, and you can hear eunseok fumble with his slacks as he brings them back up to his waist. he moves in such a rush that he stumbles backwards, bumping into the copy machine. in any other situation you would’ve been laughing at him for being so clumsy. but now you have a mission of getting out as soon as possible, your face heating up unbelievably fast.
when your pants are on you hop off the table and grab your phone to turn off the alarm. you see several messages and calls from people on the debate team asking where you are and congratulations on your win.
“i have to go now before lunch starts.” you say.
“yeah.” eunseok says.
“i’ll see you there.” you say after a long pause.
“yeah.” eunseok says.
neither of you look at the other as your faces get even hotter. eunseok messes with his belt over and over again. you dust off your pants and adjust your clothes a million times. the tension in the closest is thick, you think you may choke on it if you don’t leave soon. you focus on everything but eunseok. you’re sure you look disheveled but it is the least of your worries. you can pop into a bathroom before heading to lunch.
you leave eunseok in the storage closet alone without looking back. the whole way to the bathroom you are looking behind you, making sure no one saw you go in there. 
eunseok doesn’t leave the storage room for another five minutes after you leave. the moment you closed the door behind you eunseok crouched down the floor trying to. figure out what the hell just happened. he was still throbbing in his pants and his fingers smelled like your heat. he was so incredibly confused and out of breath he had to spend time to regain his bearings. he set up his phone to fix his mussed hair and ruffled slacks. he cleans up the storage room too, grabbing the supplies giselle had asked for.
eunseok for some reason expected you to be outside of the storage room waiting for him. he swallowed what felt like a lump in his throat as he started making his way towards the cafeteria.
you try to eat the sandwiches brought to you by the chaperones but you are too focused on what situation you were in not even ten minutes ago.  you could only manage to take a few bites before you realized you’re not hungry. you let the people at your table pick off of your food like vultures.
you don’t even dare to try and look at eunseok from across the room. after coming from the bathroom he was already there, he must have came straight there after leaving the storage room.
your hand is still sticky from him and every time you move you get the faintest smell of eunseok. you can feel his scent all over you, lingering and ominous like a storm cloud. you pray no one else can see how flustered you are.
after lunch is over the team still remains to get room assignments. you are so checked out mentally you don’t know what’s happening until you hear your group start protesting about the arrangement.
“why do they get their own rooms?” you hear eunchae ask.
“because they’re the captains and senior members of the team. also you guys signed up for these rooms.” the chaperone says.
you and eunseok are the only ones taking a solo room. something about an uneven number of boys and girls and it worked out in your favor. you need to be able to have a room to yourself so you can pace around and think about what happened in that storage room. you take your keycard and a spare just in case, sliding it in your wallet. everyone in your team floats to who their assigned with for tonight.
“we have few more debates for the day, but everyones schedule is clear for the independent events. let’s all support the three competing in that event.” you hear your sponsor say.
after eating, everyone in your teams throws away the trash and cleans the table, leaving the space cleaner than when you two arrived. you end up falling behind the rest of the group as they head towards the debate room. you’re double checking to make sure all the tables are clean and nothing was left behind when you see eunseok walking right towards you. you desperately try to look busy, wiping nonexistent crumbs off the tables. in your mind, if you don’t see eunseok he won’t see you. but he does see you, he always has. 
eunseok comes up to you and you have no choice but to look at him. you get shy, focusing on the button up of his debate uniform. you are counting all the buttons on his shirt over and over again when you feel him slide something in the back pocket of your pants. you look up ti him with wide eyes, and his demeanor is calm. 
“if you want to talk about what happened lights out is at 8:30. i’m in room 31.” eunseok says to you.
you don’t even get the chance to say anything to him. as soon as he’s done talking he’s gone, jogging to catch up with the rest of the debate team. you stand at the table frozen solid. when you reach to your back pocket you can feel the undeniable shape and feel of a plastic keycard.
it was going to be a long night.
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rafesslxt · 1 month
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DOBERMAN | Mattheo Riddle
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summary: you and pansy go get some errands with hagrid in a store and on your way you find something really cute you wanna buy. When you come back with it, Mattheo isn‘t that convinced like the rest is.
warnings: cutest dog evaaa, new slytherin mascot hehe, mattheo being a softie and a dog dad, words: 806
notes: writing this in the honor of wanting a second dog, a doberman, even tho I got the most beautiful white Shepard ever
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Mattheo honestly didn't knew what to say. This wasn't the first time you came back from shopping with things that surprised him. But this?
In front of him sat his girlfriend with her best friend Pansy and a fucking puppy. Even tho that puppy's head and paws looked so huge it could count as a little but matured dog. "What the hell is this?" he asks, looking down at it, sitting by his girlfriends feet.
"This is our new dog! And Pansy and I already named her!"
By the time half of the Slytherins were now in the common room, all standing and sitting around you and your dog. "What did you name her?" Theodore asks you. "Azula." "Azula?" he asks. "What does that mean?" a little girl asks, sitting on the couch.
"It's a name from a girl that can produce blue flames. She's a fire bender and really powerful." Mattheo sighs and shakes his head. "Does Dumbledore even know about this? And where do you even wanna let her be when we have classes?"
"I already figured everything out with Pansy!" Pansy nods in agreement and continues. "Yeah, we asked Hagrid and he says he would love to watch her whenever we have classes or are outside Hogwarts. Dumbledore said yes because officially it's Y/N's pet now. And well, we all know he likes Y/N so it wasn't really that hard."
"Yeah only Snape was a little unsure but then I told him I would teach her to catch rats and snakes for his potions." you say after smiling brightly at Mattheo.
"Oh come on Mattheo, she will be our little guard and new addition to the gang." you say, batting with your lashes at him.
"I like her!" comes from an Enzo who's laying on his back on the ground, already playing with Azula.
Mattheo rolls his eyes. " I am not going to feed her, walk her or do anything other. This is your responsibility, understood?" he gives in which leads you to jump at him happy. "Yes yes yes I promise! You will love her."
A few months passed by since you got Azula and to say Mattheo and her were enemys - one sided enemys - was an understatement.
She was now fully in her teeny phase which means she would not pee inside but now destroy everything her sharp teeth could reach. And to Mattheo's dismail, it were always his things. His ties, his hoodies, his belts, his shoes - especially his shoes.
He would always scold her for destroying his stuff but you told him every time that she was still learning and is now in her teeny phase. Like puberty. What the fuck does that even mean, was what he thought.
Azula on the other hand loved him. She was very picky about who she would let close to her but no matter how often she got pushed away by Mattheo, she would try again.
So it was when Mattheo came back really tired from his classes after he had studied all night long and got barely any sleep, when he fell down on the couch in the common room.
He slept so deep, that he at first didn't notice the little body that squeezed itself between his chest and arms. When he woke up from his nap, still alone in the common room, he gasps as he saw Azula's face right in front of his with her eyes closed.
That was the moment he fell in love, like hard. He would get her ANY toy he saw while walking through the pet store with you, originally to buy dog shampoo and a new leash.
No food was good enough for her but the one he got, the priciest of course and fresh food from Hagrid. He would barf her most of the time. (Barf is feeding your dog like raw meat, fresh fruits, vegetables and stuff.)
He would walk her every time you didn't have time or were still in class. Often he would let her chase Draco in his ferret form only to laugh at him when he hid on a tree or something different that Azula couldn't reach.
Oh and the pics you would collect of them both were so precious. Them playing together, sleeping together on the couch or when she was allowed in your dorm on your bed.
She also played a lot with the cats in Hogwarts as she grew up with them but she hates Mrs. Norris and always chased her through the castle, making Filch argue with you.
So now here he sat, with the love of his life and you. Joke joke joke. But no for real. He would love her to death and that's when it hit him.
"Y/n? I think I want a baby with you."
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I just haaaaad to write this, hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think. 🫶🏻
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xoxo sarah <3
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noxtivagus · 1 year
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my skill is making nonsense out of nothing fr 👍
#🌙.rambles#reading some old rambles from years back is quite endearing actually#n i. rlly would love to tell me younger self how i love how she thought through those stuff abt my wol well#i wonder though what's the extent of which i cld write or imagine smth i've never experienced before#n likely at times perhaps i force it in a way in my head while knowing it is entirely like. yk fiction just so i can 'feel' it for the sake#of yeah just. expanding my knowledge n understanding of stuff#i think i definitely did that before in late 2021 w that one old ffxiv friend#i mean ofc there's some pain that comes w it but it's all for the sake of learning 🥺#actually i'm not talking abt anything rn i just want to ramble to myself abt random bs before i sleep#tbf i did have nice ideas when i'd use random stuff or create fragmented realities or idk what it is in my head#but i cld always yk differentiate what's actually real or not#being sleep-deprived sucks though i do not think right#i shld sleep. i'm gna get less than 3 hours of sleep like this 😭😭#just have to work on the speech tmrrw n do quite a lot of research bcs of the topic i chose sob#maybe i cld've done something easier n i cld always change it but No i find this interesting n i will pull through#mostly just that n i cld play some ffxiv n fix the fc server c: n farm more gbf bcs i did not play much today#I GOT EUSTACE SUMMER THOUGH !!!! this anniv i have barely gotten anything new but 🥺 eustace is cool. n i got lucifer hehe from 100 <3#as long as i don't lose sight of my passions n like. yeah the love i have for sm things in my life n then hope n always striving to improve#yk i'll continue to thrive. succeed 🫶🏼🫶🏼#i'm not sleepy rn i feel motivated but no i shld rlly goddamn sleep#i came across some notes too of how i wrote my wol like exactly two years ago n.. funny how it still hits now :^)#but yk reading that reminded me of how much time has passed but like. more in a 'ive managed to accomplish so much more since then' way#i'm proud of myself. & i'll continue to do what i can so i can continue to be proud of who i am at heart#n like fuck social anxiety but i'll find a way to yk get through it all anyways. ofc. yeah#i will fix my account next week for sure.
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