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#no offense to any teachers
fairydrowning · 2 years
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Some professors be like where's the source for this? Who says that? Is this even authentic?
Trust me bro, I say that. Just trust me.
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p-antalons · 2 years
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your-thighness · 5 months
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Of course I would be civil, especially with you. Is there any specific philosophy you've read or studied?
You definitely are funnier in the tags
like as of lately or in general? bc both no. 😂 i do not have the time to or mental capacity to take on anything else for now.
and hey would you be surprised. looks can be deceiving and people are fucking crazy (i am people 👀👀👀)
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javiscigarette · 3 months
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Teacher's Pet, part II
Joel Miller x virgin f!reader
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Summary: Joel gives you a few more lessons and a few more feelings start to surface. (Picks up right where part one left off so I recommend reading that first!)
Warnings: unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, oral (m!receiving), fingering, thigh riding, dirty talk, ungodly amount of pet names, unprotected sex, virginity loss (it's the real deal this time), he's back and more annoying than ever but still just as sweet, disgustingly fluffy at times, reader has hair he can run his fingers through but no other physical descriptions, no use of y/n
w/c: ......10.5k I am so sorry
a/n: It's here! I kept changing my mind with how I wanted this to go so hopefully I landed on something good. I'm absolutely still blown away by the amount of love and support you guys gave on part one :'))) you are all incredible. Hoping and praying this one lives up to everyone's expectations
Part One
my masterlist
"Well, excuse the fuck outta me" he huffs, but the feigned offense  is betrayed by the way he’s positively beaming down at you.  "I'm about to give you the best fuckin' lay of your life, and here you are makin' fun of me." "The best fuckin' lay of my life? I haven’t even had one lay. Don't exactly have anything to compare it to." "Yeah, well, trust me. Best you're ever gonna get.” "That's some big talk, cowboy. Let's see if you can live up to that."
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Getting on your knees for Joel Miller wasn’t exactly on your agenda for today. 
Not that you’re really complaining. 
He doesn’t look bad from this angle, you have to admit.  His chest looks broader from where you are on your knees in front of him, if that’s even possible. His hair is messy and tousled from where your fingers pulled and tugged with a pretty red flush spreading down his neck and chest, and the soft curve of his belly looking positively sinful. 
“First lesson is how to take a man’s pants off,” Joel starts. “Think you can handle that? Or do you need a demonstration first?” 
You scowl up at him, his words pulling you out of your transfixation on his body. 
“Shut up,” you hiss. “I can take your pants off.” 
He grins and raises an eyebrow. 
“Yeah? Go on then. Show me.”
You roll your eyes but take a steadying breath, trying your best to calm your pounding pulse and trembling fingers as you reach up for his belt buckle. The metallic jingle has your heart fluttering in your chest, and you make quick work of the rest, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans until they’re hanging open in front of you.
You stop for a moment and glance up at him. He’s looking down at you, a soft encouraging smile playing on his lips. 
“S’okay, baby. Keep goin’,” he murmurs, nodding his head once. 
You give him a small nod and a tight swallow around the lump in your throat, dropping your gaze back to the task at hand. Gently, gingerly, you hook your fingers in the waistband of both his jeans and boxers, pulling them both down simultaneously. 
A tiny, barely audible gasp escapes you when his cock springs free and bobs heavily in front of you. 
“Jesus Christ,” you whisper, too stunned to stop the words from slipping out. 
“Just Joel if fine, actually.” 
You barely even register his jab and you definitely don’t have the bandwidth to come up with any kind of witty comeback right now, your mind too busy processing the sight before you. Sure, you’ve seen plenty of dicks before, the internet can be a magical place. But this, in person, up close and so real, is an entirely new experience. 
He's big, thick, heavy, and long with a slight upward curve. The tip is flushed a deep pink, shiny with smeared precome with more beading at the slit. A few thin veins run from his base to his tip up the length in a twisting pattern, the dark hair at his base neatly trimmed. And he’s hard, so much so that it looks nearly painful and your stomach flutters know that you're the one who did that to him.
"You can touch it, y'know." Joel says softly after a few moments of silence. "It ain't gonna bite."
"Oh my god" you groan, bringing up a hand to scrub down your face as he pulls you out of your awe. 
"Again, just Joel is fine."
He laughs proudly at his own joke and you drop your hands in your lap and stare up at him in disbelief. 
"Oh c'mon! You walked right into that one, no need to get all-"
He cuts himself off with a hiss, the air escaping between his teeth and his head falling back as your hand wraps around him, squeezing just a little too tight to be pleasant. He staggers half a step backward, hips jerking away from your grip.
"You were saying?'' you ask sweetly, grinning up at him.
"Fuckin' christ, woman. You're tryin' to get me off not break it off"
You loosen your grip a little but keep your hand still and look at him with expectant eyes, waiting for further instruction. It's not that you don't know what to do, you just don't know how to do it well. How to do it for him.
You want to do well for him.
The realization should alarm you, scare you even. But you find it only spurs you on, only makes the want burning inside of you even more potent and pressing. You want to make him moan, gasp, make his body writhe beneath your touch. You want him to be breathless, shivering, and panting with pleasure. You want to make him come undone, just like you did for him.
"Okay" he starts, clearing his throat and taking a deep breath. "Lesson two is learning what he likes. Everyone's a lil different, but the basics are the same."
The nerves in your gut twist almost painfully, the anxiety of it all getting you half a second away from tapping out. 
But your decision is set in stone when he drops his hand to yours where it’s wrapped around him, giving a light squeeze before he starts to gently guide your movements. 
"Start slow,” he starts, a light strain tainting the edges of his voice. “Nice and gentle. Wanna work up to it."
You nod and watch, focused intently as if you were actually a student in class as the head of his cock disappears and reappears in your fist. His hand covers yours nearly entirely as he drags it up and down while you try and memorize where he squeezes a little tighter, when he swipes his thumb over the head. 
“Can give a little twist at the top,” he murmurs, voice low as he demonstrates what he means. “There you go, baby. Just like that,” he sighs when you do the same. 
Once satisfied, he removes his hand, letting you take control. You continue to pump him, trying to replicate the movements he just showed you. His cock is a warm, heavy weight in your hand, twitching and pulsing every now and then when you twist your wrist just right or swipe your thumb over his head like he showed you, collecting and spreading his precome to ease your strokes. 
Your confidence builds with each stroke and soon enough you start to experiment with your pace, switching between faster and slower. He gently rocks his hips in time with your hand, unable to resist thrusting forward just slightly.
The fire inside you burns even hotter at the shaky breath that he lets out above you, heat spreading through your veins like wildfire before settling low in your belly, your core aching and pulsing with it. 
"This good?" you ask concerned, your voice barely above a whisper. 
He lets out a breathless chuckle and looks down at you with heavy lidded eyes.
"Yeah, honey. Real good," he rasps, a small smile spreading across his lips.
You match his smile, biting your lip and basking in his praise, a warm, gooey feeling spreading outwards from your heart to the tips of your fingers and toes. It's like he has a direct link to the inner workings of your brain and body with how effortlessly he can make you melt, with just a soft, easy smile and a few well chosen words.
"Should I...do you want my mouth?" you ask, glancing between his flushed, leaking cock and his hooded eyes.
"God yes, baby. J-just start slow. Lick the tip, get a feel for it. Don't try to take too much right away," he instructs, his voice constricting more and more with each word. 
"So I shouldn't try to fit all of your giant cock in my mouth on my first go?" you quip, raising a brow.
"Please don't" he chuckles. "Don't want ya pukin’ all over the place. Might kill the mood," he adds with a grin.
You shake your head and let out a light laugh, the sound trailing off into a content hum when he brings his hand to the top of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, dull nails scratching lightly at your scalp.
"You're ridiculous," you sigh, leaning into the touch.
"You love it."
You do, so, so much.
"Now c'mon. You've got work to do," he teases, his hand gently tugging at your hair.
You comply easily enough, leaning forward and tenderly swiping your tongue across the slit, licking up the precome that's gathered there. He hisses, a rush of hair pushing past his clenched teeth as  his cock twitches in your hand, a fresh bead of precome forming. 
With your confidence renewed by his reaction, you do it again, pressing your tongue flat against the slit and swirling it slowly around his swollen tip all while your hand still works him at a steady pace. 
Emboldened, you take it a step further and close your lips around him, sealing them around the head to give him a slow, experimental suck. The groan he rewards you with has sparks shooting down the length of your spine.
"That's it. Good girl. Just like that," he pants, fingers tugging and tightening in your hair.
His praise washes over you in another wave of warmth, a feeling akin to a full-body shiver that has goosebumps breaking out over your skin. It strokes your ego, pride and confidence filling you as his soft moans and grunts fuel the fire burning in your belly.
Encouraged by the way he’s already falling apart, you take him a little deeper. It’s only a few inches but your lips are already stretched wide, a slight ache already settling in your jaw from how wide it's being forced open. 
You keep your tongue flat against the underside of his cock while you start to bob your head, trying to match the pace of your hand. But the motions are new and unfamiliar, your movements clumsy and uncoordinated and when he hits the roof of your mouth, your gag reflex kicks in forcing you to pull off quickly, coughing and sputtering.
"Easy. Easy," Joel soothes, his fingers scratching at your scalp again. "Try to breathe through your nose. And don't don't force it, yeah? Feels good, just the way you were doin' it."
"Sorry," you apologize sheepishly, looking up at him through your lashes.
"Ain't nothing to be sorry for. S’your first time. It takes practice. Now, c'mon. Try again. Nice and easy. And if this man tries to-"
But you're not in the mood for another Joel Miller Life Lesson, especially when he’s about to mention the other man who's name you can barely even remember anymore. 
Thankfully, his words dissolve into a groan when you take him back in your mouth, your lips wrapping around his sensitive head, tongue flat where it slowly glides down the underside of his cock as you take him deeper. 
The ache in your core is quickly growing more and more incessant. You can still feel the ghost of his fingers and tongue on you, your inner thighs wet and sticky with the memory. And the sinful sounds he’s making, whispered curses between breathy moans and grunts, are not exactly helping your case. 
You manage to take a little more, his thick cock stretching your mouth wider, forcing your jaw open even further. You gag slightly around him again but you’re determined to push through it this time. YOu squeeze your eyes shut and breathe in harshly through your nose as saliva dribbles past the tight seal of your mouth and drips onto your hand, your fist diligently pumping what you can't take.
He responds with a low, guttural groan, his hips jerking forward, chasing after the sensation of your throat convulsing around him. 
You're still only a little over halfway down and it's a quick realization that you'll never be able to get it all down your throat. Maybe you can try and practice, but it’s practically a pipe dream to even think about getting his whole cock into your throat without choking to death on it.
But that's a problem for another day. 
For the next time. 
For now, you hollow out your cheeks and suck as you pull back, tongue swirling along the underside until his cock leaves your mouth with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting your swollen, spit-slicked lips to his glistening tip. 
You use your hand to spread the wetness, mixing it with the precome that's leaking steadily from the flushed head. The smooth glide allows you to speed up your pace as you look up at him through your lashes, trying to gauge his reaction.
He's staring down at you with hazy, lust blown eyes, his jaw hanging open, panting heavily.
"How am I doing, Professor?" you tease with an innocent smile. A lazy grin slowly spreads on his face in return.
"You’re a fuckin’ natural, baby," he mumbles, his hand moving from where it's tangled in your hair to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over the apple of your flushed cheek, "My good girl."
And maybe, most likely, the words slipped out unintentionally, the heat of the moment forcing out things that he doesn’t really mean. But all the alarms and sirens in your head warning yourself to not fall too deep into this trap that is Joel Miller with his pretty words and sweet praises and soft smiles are all dead silent right now. There’s not a single part of your brain that’s trying to resist him right now. You doubt you could even if you wanted to. 
Because he just called you his girl. 
His.
To say you’re fucked would be the understatement of the century. 
You hum, pressing your cheek into his palm, wanting, needing, craving more. More of his touch, his taste, his warmth, his cock, his praise. So you take him back in your mouth with a renewed determination, spurred on by his words, wanting to prove to him that he's right, that you are his good girl. Determined to show him that you can make him feel good, that you can please him, that he'll want more of you, need more of you.
And judging by the way his grip on your hair is almost painful, his thighs trembling as he holds himself still, fighting the urge to jerk his hips forward and shove his cock down your throat, you'd say you're doing a damn good job
"Makin’ me feel so good, baby. So fuckin' good," he pants when you take him a little deeper.
You whine quietly around him as you press your sticky thighs together. White hot heat pooling low in your belly, your neglected cunt throbbing and aching, slick, wet, and messy. 
You squirm in your spot, rubbing your thighs together and grinding down on nothing in desperate search for the slightest bit of friction. You pray that the movement is subtle enough for Joel not to notice. 
As if that’s possible.
“Oh, Sweetheart,” Joel starts, his tone annoyingly saccharine and condescending as he smirks down at you. “Did we forget somethin’ important?” 
Another small whimper is all you can muster, too focused and preoccupied with the way his thick length is filling your mouth, the weight and taste of him on your tongue dizzying and addicting. 
“Well look at that,” he coos, his hand leaving your hair and sliding down your cheek to cradle your  jaw. He swipes swiping over your bottom lip that’s stretched around his length, smearing the spit that’s gathered there.
“Think I finally found a way to shut ya up. We should’a done this a long time ago. Woulda saved me a lot of headaches,” he chuckles, the sound dissolving into a sharp hiss when you dig your nails into the tender skin of the back of his thigh, hard enough to leave a mark.
You pull off his cock with a wet pop, jaw aching as you glare up at him. 
"I'd shut up if I were you" you warn, the threat of your words completely lost in the breathless, desperate way they leave your mouth. "Just one good chomp is all it would take" you add, clicking your teeth together for emphasis.
But Joel's face just splits into a grin, a full blown, infuriating smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. 
"Biting huh? Now that’s a little kinky. Didn't know you had it in you, sweetheart."
"Shut up," you snap, but it still lacks any real heat, not with the way your lips are twitching at the corners, fighting a smile, your eyes undoubtedly sparkling, your heart definitely leaping out of your chest at the way his eyes are boring into yours.
"Careful, sweetheart. Might have to knock you down a whole letter grade for that type of talk. Gotta respect your professor ‘n all, y’know."
"You're insufferable," you grumble.
"But yet, here you are, still on your knees."
"And I'm gonna get up and leave if you don't stop talking."
"Leave before or after you chomp my dick off? Cause I'd really like a heads up for that, if ya could."
"Jesus fucking christ, Joel!" You huff, rolling your eyes so hard it actually hurts. "Do you ever just shut the fuck up? I'm literally on my knees right now with your dick in my mouth and you're still finding ways to piss me off!"
“What can I say? It’s a special talent of mine,” he says with a nonchalant shrug, the smug smile on his face making you want to genuinely bite his dick off now.
You drop the wet hand you had wrapped around him and start to move to your feet.
"You know what, I'm just gonna go. Maybe I'll call my coworker. He's not nearly as irritating as you," you huff, pushing yourself up onto shaky legs, your knees stiff and sore. 
But you can't even take one step before he's grabbing your waist, his large, warm palm resting firmly on the swell of your hip. His fingers flex, his grip tightening, not enough to hurt, but it's enough to halt you in your tracks. You're not particularly fond of the way your heart skips a beat in your chest, the way you can feel goosebumps breaking out all over your body from just his touch. 
He pulls you in closer until your chest is pressed against his, hard, wet cock pressed against your bare thigh.
"You really think you’re gonna leave with your pussy drippin' all over the place like that?” he says, his voice seamlessly switching from teasing to low and rough as his dark, hungry eyes bore into yours. “You're about to ruin my floors with the way you're leakin' right now, baby. Wouldn’t want that, now would we?” 
Your cheeks flame with embarrassment from how easily he was able to see your desperation, and with anger at how right he is. 
"Shut the fuck up, Joel," you mumble, giving him a weak push at his chest. "I'm not leaking I-"
The rest of your sentence stays lodged in your throat when his free hand slips between your thighs. Two deft fingers drag through the slick mess, collecting your arousal and spreading it around, a soft, wet, obscene sound filling the space between you. 
You don't even think to stop the high pitched, breathy whine from escaping your lips when he slides a thick finger inside you with no warning, your pathetic sound dissolving into a moan when he immediately follows it up with a second one, his palm pressed flat against your clit.
"Not leaking, hmm? Sure don't seem like it, baby," he purrs, his voice a low, rumbling drawl, his warm breath fanning across your cheek. "Feel that? How easy it was for me to get two fingers in ya?"
"Fuck," you whine as you dig your nails into the bare skin of his shoulder, hanging on to him and desperately searching for any semblance of stability as you try not to sway on shaky legs.
He crooks his fingers in you, fingertips digging into the spongy spot on your front wall that has your knees buckling, tiny stars dotting your vision momentarily as a rush of arousal gushes out of you, a pitiful whimper falling from your lips. Joel chuckles, low and dark and the sound shoots straight to your neglected clit, a bolt of lightning arcing down your spine.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," he murmurs, nosing at the sensitive skin below your ear, the faint scrape of his beard against your cheek sending a shiver down your spine. 
The feeling of him removing his fingers is a cruel, sudden jolt, the emptiness and lack of pressure and friction has you keening, a needy, impatient noise bubbling up from your throat.
He's moving before you can complain though, stepping around you to sit on the edge of the bed and then promptly pulling you down onto his lap. You let out a small squeak of surprise as he forces you to straddle his thigh, pulling you down until your aching cunt is seated firmly against his bare skin. The position has his cock pressing against your hip, a drop of precome smearing against your skin.
"Fuckin' soaked for me, honey,” he drawls, his fingertips dimpling the soft skin of your hips. “And to think you were about to leave without gettin' what you came here for.” 
You can't even speak, too enraptured with the feeling of his strong muscles flexing subtly under your hypersensitive clit. So you ignore his teasing and just grind down instead, past the point of desperation. 
But he would never let you win that easily, would he? 
He laughs and tightens his grip on your hips, stopping your movement and holding you in place.
"Ah-ah, not so fast, baby. Let's talk about the terms first."
You give him the best glare you can muster while suppressing a needy whimper. 
"Terms?"
"Yeah. Terms. Of all this. Like if this is a one time thing, or if we're gonna be havin' regular...lessons," he replies, his hands slowly sliding up your waist and coming to rest on your ribs, his thumbs stroking the undersides of your breasts. 
"If you're gonna go out with this guy," he continues, his thumbs brushing over both of your nipples. "Or if I'm the only one who's gonna get to see this," he says, leaning forward, his warm breath fanning over your skin. You bite your lip, holding in the soft, needy moan threatening to spill out when his lips press to the hollow of your throat.
"If I'm the only one who gets to have you like this. If I'm the only one who's allowed to touch you. To kiss you," he says, punctuating his last word with a kiss to the center of your chest, his hands squeezing the swell of your breasts, his tongue flicking out and licking at your nipple.
"Or do you plan on letting him have you too?" He asks, the tip of his tongue swirling around your nipple before closing his lips around the pebbled peak, sucking it into his mouth, his teeth lightly grazing it before he pulls back. "'Cause I'm not too keen on sharin', baby."
You take a deep steadying breath, trying to clear the thick haze that's clouding your mind and focus on his words, his questions about the fucking terms. 
And you do think about it, about your coworker who's been nothing but so sweet to you, who doesn't get on your nerves in under a millisecond. The coworker, Micheal, you think, his name finally returning to you, who doesn't tease you and play games and leave you a panting, needy, dripping mess. 
And while he is really such a perfect gentleman, he isn’t the one that’s been there for you, listening to you complain about all the shitty things that have happened to you in the last year. He isn’t the man that lets you use him as a punching bag whenever you’re frustrated, has never been the calm, reasonable voice that challenges the anxiety that overwhelms you and threatens to pull you under. 
Michael has never held you when you've cried, never helped you cook dinner after a hard day at work, never fixed the flickering light in your bathroom. He certainly has never dropped a key to his front door in your palm accompanied by a lopsided smile and the words just in case ya need anything. 
Michael isn’t the one who’s been the one to pick up your pieces and put you back together, so gently and tenderly, making you even better than you were before.
It's useless, trying to avoid it. Trying to push it down, bury it, ignore it, how you've been feeling and what you want. 
It’s Joel.
All of it. 
You want Joel. 
All of him. 
You've wanted him since the day you showed up on his porch with a six pack. You've wanted him all those times you watched from a distance as he fixed something in your house, so capable and competent, casually waving away your slew of thank yous. You wanted him every single time he invited you over for a movie night, sitting close enough to you on his couch that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. You wanted him every time he made your blood boil and your eyes roll so hard you swore you could see the back of your brain, and every time you genuinely thought you were going to smack him. 
And now, you have him.
Right here, naked and hard and underneath you, your pussy leaking on his thigh. 
The answer is so painfully obvious, the words falling from your lips before you even have a chance to process them.
"M'not gonna see him," you finally manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Want this. Want you."
Joel hums, indicating that he heard you. But again, he would never let you win that easily. 
"Speak up, baby," Joel says, releasing your nipple with a soft pop, his eyes dark and intense, a predatory, feral glint in them. "Can't hear you."
And it's infuriating and annoying, absolutely maddening. And it's the last straw.
You're not sure if it's the frustration, or the pent up desire, or the heat burning inside you, or the fact that Joel's still hard, and still leaking precum against your hip, as your cunt slides against his thigh, but you break.
You absolutely shatter.
"I want you!" you practically shout, hands balling into fists where they're resting on his shoulders. 
"You, okay? You! You and your stupid, fucking, annoying ass, and your dumbass pickup truck, and your stupid, charming grin, and the way you always call me 'baby', and 'honey', and 'sweetheart'. It drives me fucking insane!  And the way you're always fixing shit, and being so fucking helpful and sweet and you always, always make me laugh, and smile, and there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by in the past year that I didn’t think about you and I can’t get you out of my fucking head, not even for a single fucking second.” 
The words spill from your lips in a breathless tirade, and it feels good, freeing. It's like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders, like a great burden has been taken off of you. 
But the feeling doesn't last long.
Silence stretches between you and it's suffocating, oppressive, and you feel like the walls are closing in on you, panic rising in your chest.
Your cheeks burn, nauseating embarrassment and humiliation coursing through you as you realize the full weight of what you just word-vomited all over him. Your chest heaves, and you hang your head, unable to bring yourself to look at him.
But then, a bright laugh sounds through the otherwise quiet room. And your eyes snap to Joel's face, only to find him smiling.
He's fucking laughing.
"Joel!" you scold, a mixture of mortification and confusion washing over you.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" he placates, but the laughter in his voice doesn't help to ease your nerves. "I didn't mean to laugh, it's just...I just can't believe how dense you are."
The daggers you shoot at him are truly deadly. 
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Do you think I just go around callin' everyone 'baby' and 'sweetheart'?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow.
"I..." you stammer, trailing off as his words sink in. 
"I mean, my southern charm is one thing,” he says, obnoxiously wiggling his eyebrows. “But you’re seriously thick if  you think I'm like this with anyone else.” 
You stare blankly at him, trying to process what he’s saying. 
“Do you think I let all the neighbors just use me for free handy work, think I cook dinner with all of them, think I keep a stash of everyone’s favorite snacks in my pantry, give everyone a fuckin’ key to my front door? And you think I just go around agreeing to sex lessons to anyone who asks?” He rambles, squeezing your hip. 
Your brain is reeling as you try to wrap your head around everything. 
"Well...no” you stammer, your brows pinching together.  “But…"
"How many other girls you seen me bringin' home? Huh? How many other girls you see me with?"
"None" you admit sheepishly.
"Mhm. Because I don't. Not since you moved in next door."
You frown, confusion clouding your features. You open your mouth to speak but Joel cuts you off.
"I like you, baby," he admits with a sigh. "A lot. Maybe too much. But I wasn't about to lose you as a friend just because I'm crazy about you. And if being your friend is the only way I can be close to you, then I'd take it and die a happy man."
You can only stare at him, the words he just spoke bouncing around in your brain, and a warmth blooms in your chest, your heart fluttering wildly in your ribcage.
"Are you kidding me?!" You exclaim suddenly, hitting his shoulder.
"Hey! Ow!" he barks, his eyes widening as he grabs his shoulder. "The fuck was that for?!"
"You've been trying to sleep with me for a whole year?!"
"I wouldn’t say trying," he says with a casual shrug. "Just waiting. Wanted you to take the lead but you’re a little stubborn, baby."
You scoff, glaring at him, not missing the way his lips twitch at the corners, the way his eyes sparkle with amusement.
"So, the reason why I haven't been able to catch a break the entire time we've known each other, has been because you've been trying to get in my pants? Is that what you're telling me?"
"Well, that part is just natural. You're just too easy to get riled up. And that’s not my fault."
You open your mouth to argue with him but his sliding over your hips to palm at your ass and his lips are ghosting over the shell of your ear, his beard scraping against the sensitive skin.
"But no, I can't deny that I like it," he rasps, his breath warm against the side of your neck. "The way you get all fired up and angry, your face all flushed, your chest heaving. Mmm, it's nice. You look real pretty when you're all worked up and pissed off," he whispers, his lips curled in a smile when he presses a kiss to the spot below your ear before pulling back to look at you. 
"Why didn't you tell me,” you say, voice softer now, the rough edges of your tone smoothed out by the feeling of his lips on your skin.
"Didn't want to make it weird. Didn't want you to think I was some creepy old man and ruin our friendship" he explains with a small shrug. "But then you came over here tonight askin’ for a sex lesson, which was not easy by the way, acting like I wasn't already about to burst outta my pants as soon as you asked. Thought for sure you were onto me. But then you started going on about that douche canoe Michael-"
"Joel."
"And then I got jealous and pissed, and figured it was time to cut my losses and just enjoy it while I can, but-"
"Joel."
"Then we were kissing and you were touchin’ me and you're so fucking sexy and-"
"Joel!"
"What?"
"Just kiss me, you idiot" you breathe, and before the words are even fully out of your mouth, his lips are on yours, crashing into you with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs.
It’s bruising, searing, all consuming.
His fingers dig into the meat of your ass as he pulls you forward, the seam of your pussy dragging deliciously against the strong muscles under warm skin. 
Your fingers tangle in his hair, and tug, the base of your spine tingling when he groans softly into your mouth, and you grind your hips against his, the wet heat of your cunt grinding into his thigh, pulling another soft, low sound from his throat.
"Fuck" he groans, pulling away just far enough to press his forehead to yours, his breath coming in quick, sharp pants, his chest heaving. "Baby, are you still okay with this?" he breathes, voice ragged and gravelly.
You look at him as if he's grown a second head.
"Are you serious?"
""I...well, I was serious when I said I'd be fine with being your friend, and I don't want you to think I'm tryna pressure you into anything."
You can't help but roll your eyes, the soft, endearing side of Joel coming out at the worst possible time.
"I literally just admitted that I've had a crush on you for months, and now I'm sitting on your lap, soaked, and grinding on your thigh and you're worried I don't want this? I think you might be the dense one here."
He grins, wicked and wide, a flash of sharp teeth, the dimple in his cheek deepening.
"Guess so," he says, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
You don't respond, and instead choose to silence him by pulling him into a kiss, licking at the seam of his lips and sucking his tongue into your mouth. He groans softly into your mouth, and you swallow the noise, rolling your hips again, chasing the sweet friction that's sending a delicious heat through your veins.
"God, baby," he breathes when he pulls back for air, hands on your ass gripping and guiding you against his leg, encouraging your movements. "Makin' such a mess, ain't ya?"
You bite your lip, nodding as a wave of arousal surges through you.
"Yeah, you are. Soakin' my leg, sweet girl," he says, his eyes flicking down between you, watching as your pussy drags along his thigh, coating him in a shiny, slippery sheen.
"Fuck, Joel, please" you whine, your hips jerking and rolling against him.
And that's all the encouragement he needs.
In the blink of an eye, you're on your back, Joel hovering above you, a wild look in his eyes.
"Don't worry, baby," he says, his voice low and husky, and he trails his fingers over your hip and up your ribs, his touch light, teasing, barely ghosting across your skin and it's almost ticklish, making you shiver. "M'gonna take care of you. Gonna make you feel so good."
Your heart thunders in your chest, and your cunt throbs, your arousal leaking out of you. It feels like you’re about to crawl out of your own skin, the desperation growing with every passing second. 
He trails his fingers down your sternum, and over the flat expanse of your stomach, goosebumps breaking out across your skin in his wake, the muscles under your skin rippling and twitching at the soft, fleeting touches.
And when he reaches the crease of your thigh, you let out a shaky, trembling breath, and he chuckles softly, his lips curling into a crooked grin.
"Eager, are we?" he teases, dragging his fingers over the slick flesh between your legs, gathering the wetness pooled there before slowly sliding a single thick digit inside you. "We're gonna get there, baby. But gotta make sure you're ready first. Don't wanna hurt you.”
You whimper, your walls fluttering and clenching around his finger, and your hips roll forward, seeking friction, wanting, needing more.
Joel curses under his breath and groans softly when your wet, warm walls constrict around his finger. His cock leaks and twitches where it’s pressed against your thigh, and you whimper, both of you caught up in an endless cycle of keying each other up. 
"Please, Joel" you beg, and the words come out soft, pleading, and desperate. You should probably be embarrassed at how quickly he's reduced you to a begging, quivering mess, but the way his eyes go dark, and his pupils blow wide, makes the embarrassment worth it.
"Please, what, baby?” He prods with a devilish smirk. “Use your words"
"You're such an asshole" you snap, but the venom in your voice is diluted with pleasure as he slips another finger inside you.
"You keep saying that. What d’ya want me to do about it, sweetheart? You want me to stop?" he taunts. 
"No!" you cry out, reaching down and grabbing his wrist with an iron grip when he starts to pull out. 
"Then tell me what you want, honey."
"Fuck you,” you mumble weakly. 
"Mhm. Okay, honey" he drawls,  his thumb moving  to circle around your clit as his fingers curl inside you, still pumping in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. . "I'll just wait then. Take my time. Tease your pretty little pussy until you can't stand it. I'm in no hurry, baby. Gonna take all night, if that's what it takes. I've waited this long."
"Joel, please" you whine again, the ache between your thighs turning to an unbearable burn.
"Tell me what you want,” he repeats casually. 
"You," you try with a needy whimper.
"Me? You got me, sweetheart. What else?"
“Oh my fucking god can you please just fuck me? Or do I have to spell it out for you, old man?"
"There she is," Joel says with a laugh, his grin splitting his face "There's my girl"
And then his fingers are gone and you whimper at the sudden emptiness. But before you can protest much more,, they're sliding back in, this time joined by a third.
Your hands fly to his shoulders, gripping him, nails digging into the soft flesh of his muscles.
"Oh fuck" you pant, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he starts pumping his fingers again. 
"Gotta get ya ready, baby" he breathes, and his lips are ghosting along your jawline and up the shell of your ear, his breath warm.  "Such a tight little pussy, but we'll get you nice and open, don’t worry.  Then I'm gonna sink in ya, fill you up real nice. Take real good care of you, baby. Fuck you nice and deep, make you forget your name. Would you like that? Hmm?"
A strangled moan is all you can manage in response. His words, filthier and more deranged than any you've ever heard him speak before, sending your brain into overdrive. 
You can’t help but roll your hips, and bucking, and gyrating, meeting his thrusts as his fingers pump in and out of you, the lewd, wet, sloppy sounds filling the otherwise quiet room, and the coil in your gut is threatening to snap.
"Joel, Joel, fuck, oh fuck" you chant, your hazy and thick with pure arousal. It drips down your spine and flows through your veins, liquid heat burning, searing, and  scorching you from the inside out. 
You manage to open your eyes long enough to look down and see the tendons flexing in his wrist, the muscles and veins in his forearm bulging as he works you, his face brows pinched in concentration as he focuses on your reactions. 
"Oh shit, honey," Joel curses breathlessly, a smug grin stretching across his lips as he feels your slick pooling in his palm. “So messy, baby. You gonna cum? Hmm? Gonna be a good girl and lemme feel your sweet little cunt clench and drip even more around my fingers?"
You whine, throwing your head back against the pillows as he thrusts his fingers into you, the heel of his palm rubbing deliciously against your clit. Your fingers scrabble for purchase, desperately seeking something, anything, to ground yourself. You settle for the firm muscle of his arms, your nails biting into his skin and leaving bright red marks that'll undoubtedly leave little half-moon bruises later
"Fuck, yeah, c’mon, sweetheart, lemme feel. Give it to me."
You come with a cry, the dam breaking, the tension in your gut exploding outward, a wave of euphoria crashing over you, washing through every inch of your body. Your legs tremble and shake, and Joel works you through it, his fingertips nudging that spongy spot inside you, dragging his thumb across your throbbing clit, milking you through the aftershocks, and when you start to come down, you're panting and breathless, your chest heaving.
You look up at Joel, and his eyes are blown wide, the deep, rich brown of his irises nothing more than a thin, dark ring around his dilated pupils. There are no words, at least none that you can manage to articulate at the moment, so instead you let out a breathless laugh, and a contented hum, a smile spreading across your lips.
Joel grins, laughing, and he leans down to capture your lips in a chaste kiss.
"Good girl" he breathes against your mouth, his words a low, rough rumble that has you keening. "That feel good, baby?"
"Fuck, yeah" you sigh, melting into the matress. 
"Good,” he says before pressing a kiss to your forehead then pulling back to look you in the eyes again. “ Think you're ready for me now?"
“Mhm,” you murmur with a lazy nod. “Want you, Joel.” 
Joel laughs, the sound sweeter than it’s ever sounded before.. "You've got me, sweetheart. You've had me. Always will."
"That's awfully fucking sappy," you tease breathlessly, threading your fingers into his soft dark hair. 
"Well, excuse the fuck outta me" he huffs, but the feigned offense is  betrayed by the way he’s positively beaming down at you.  "I'm about to give you the best fuckin' lay of your life, and here you are makin' fun of me."
"The best fuckin' lay of my life? I haven’t even had one lay. Don't exactly have anything to compare it to."
"Yeah, well, trust me. Best you're ever gonna get.”
You scoff and roll your eyes, raising a brow at him. 
"That’s some big talk, cowboy. Let's see if you can live up to that."
Joel barks out a laugh, the sound coming out more like a snarl, his eyes flashing with something feral, predatory, and dangerous at your challenge.
And then he’s abruptly pulling his fingers from you then  bringing them up to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the slick coating his fingers. The sight nearly puts you into cardiac arrest.
"So fuckin' sweet" he murmurs, his eyes slipping closed momentarily, and a low, satisfied hum rumbles in his chest. It's downright obscene, the way his lips wrap around his fingers, how he licks and sucks, cleaning your arousal off of them. 
"Joel," you breathe, your voice nothing more than a shaky exhale.
His eyes snap open, and he gives you a lopsided smirk. 
"Sorry, baby,” he starts, pulling his fingers from his mouth and wiping them on the blanket underneath you. “Can’t help myself. Just had to taste ya again. Gonna have a hard time not doing that every time,” he finishes with a sly smile. 
Every time. 
The words are like a shock of electricity shooting through your veins, setting your blood ablaze. Every time. As in multiple times. 
How the fuck is this real? 
He  stupid smirk is still glued to his face as he leans over to rummage around in the drawer of his nightstand. Your brows furrow when he pulls out a condom and goes to open it. 
"I...uh..." you start, but the words die in your throat.
"What's wrong?" Joel asks, his smug expression immediately morphing into one of concern.
"I...well...it's just, I'm- I'm on the pill… We can use a condom, but...it's not necessary…just wanted to put that out there. In case, you know…you didn't wanna use one. Since it's not...like, not entirely necessary,” you say quietly, casting your eyes down to where your fingers fiddle with the edge of the blanket. 
"Ahh, I see,” Joel responds, all too pleased. “You just want me to raw dog it, huh?” 
"Wha-no! Oh my god, Joel, you are so fucking embarrassing," you groan, covering your face with your hands. 
"S'okay, honey, don’t be embarrassed. It is all part of the full Joel Miller Experience anyway,” he reassures you with a sickeningly sweet tone.. 
"Oh my fucking god, I told you not to say that ever again,” you groan, shoving at his shoulder, which only makes him laugh. And you can feel yourself smiling too, despite how irked you are.
"Alright, alright, I'll stop," he relents, still laughing a little. "If you really don't want me to use one, I guess I can make an exception, just for you"
And it's as if he knows that you're about to lash out at him again, because he leans down and presses his lips to yours before you have a chance to say anything, all the fight in you draining away as soon as his mouth is on yours.
"You tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispers when he pulls back. “Or if I do anything you're uncomfortable with, or if you just need a break. You let me know, okay?"
You nod.
"Promise?"
"I promise, Joel. Please just get on with it."
"Impatient" he breathes, but  kisses you again nonetheless, soft, slow, and tender. And when he pulls away, his eyes are searching yours like he's looking for any signs of hesitancy. But all he sees is the same raw desire reflected back in your wide, eager eyes. 
You see the exact moment that the last vestiges of his self-restraint disappear, his gaze growing darker and hungrier as he pushes himself up to sit back  on his knees, one  hand around the base of his cock, the other  on the inside of your thigh as he tenderly spreads you open and settles himself between your legs.
He teases you of course, dragging his length through your folds, letting the swollen, leaking tip catch on your clit before sliding back down to nudge at your entrance. You whimper, and try to grind against him, but his hand is firm, holding your hip still, not allowing you any friction.
He hushes you softly, his thumb gently stroking the soft, delicate skin where your hip meets your thigh. "Just let me do what I need to do, baby. Let me take care of you.” 
"You're evil," you whine, squirming underneath him.
"Yeah, well, that's a matter of opinion" he grunts, your breath hitching when he lines himself up and finally, finally pushes the blunt tip of his cock inside you.
Your lips part on a gasp, the feeling of his thick head stretching you open, the slight burn of the intrusion, a mixture of aching and pure pleasure. And you can feel his eyes practically burning holes in your skin, drinking in every little reaction, every flutter of your lashes, every twitch of your brow.
"How's that?" he asks, his voice tight and strained. He looks just as wrecked as you feel, his jaw tight, a sheen of sweat already on his brow, the muscles in his forearms bulging with the effort of restraining himself.
"More," is all you manage to rasp out, pushing your hips up, trying to get him to sink deeper.
Joel grunts, and then obliges, his eyes screwed shut in concentration as he tries to feed you only a little more of his considerable length. You can see him chewing on his lip, his nostrils flaring, a slight tremble in his thighs, his fingers digging into your skin.
"Jesus fuck, you're tight" he grits out, his chest heaving as he tries to regain some of his composure. "I-I didn't…fuck, I didn't think- shit. God fuckin' damn, baby"
You smile a little, the corners of your lips curling upwards. It's the first time you've ever seen him truly at a loss for words, and it's a very welcome change. 
You reach up and card your fingers through his hair, his eyes fluttering closed, a sweet sigh escaping his lips at the feeling.
"I can take more," you say softly.
Joel shakes his head, his brow furrowed. "Not yet."
But you don't listen. Not that you ever really listen to him. 
Your impatience gets the best of you and you push yourself further down the bed, forcing another inch of his cock inside you, your walls fluttering wildly around him as you let out a low moan. 
"Ah fuck, honey," he groans, his eyes flying open.
"C'mon, Joel. More. Please," you beg, grinding down on his cock, taking just a little bit more with each roll of your hips until his fingers dig into your hips so hard, you're sure they'll leave bruises.
"Baby stop fuckin' movin'" he hisses, his grip tightening even further. "Please."
You can hear the strain in his voice, and you can feel him trembling above you, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing and tensing.
"Why not?" you pout.
"Cause m'tryin' not to fuckin' come right now, alright?" he grunts, his teeth gritted. "So please, just stop. For a minute."
"You can't possibly be serious," you breathe, a smile creeping on your face again. "You're not even all the way in yet."
He glares down at you, his eyes narrowing. "Not my fault you're fuckin' tight as shit. It's like your cunt is tryin' to strangle me."
You giggle a little, the sound coming out breathy and light. You don't miss the way Joel's cock twitches at the sound.
"You're being so dramatic," you sigh, rolling your hips again.
"Fuck, honey, please," he begs, his eyes pleading, and the sight is almost enough to make you stop teasing him.
Almost. 
You can't help the devilish smirk that crosses your face as you bring your hand up to his cheek, stroking your thumb across the stubble on his chin. He lets his eyes fall closed again, leaning into your touch. 
"This isn't very 'best lay your life' behavior."
"I will fuckin' strangle you," he mutters, his eyes still closed, a smile playing on his lips.
"Is that part of the Joel Miller Experience too? Because I don't remember seeing it in the brochure. Was it next to the premature ejaculation section? Or maybe the-"
The air is knocked right out of your lungs, cut off mid-sentence when Joel pushes forward. He keeps it slow but unrelenting, sinking into you in one smooth, fluid motion. You cry out, your back arching off the bed, eyes screwing shut as your fists twist in the blanket underneath you. 
It's more than overwhelming, it's absolutely mind melting the way he buries himself completely, stretching your walls, forcing them to make room for him, to mold perfectly around his length. You gasp for air between harsh pants and weak cries, the sensation of him filling you up, so much bigger than you expected, so much thicker than his fingers. You squirm underneath him, trying to get used to the feeling of his tip pressed against your cervix, the pressure building deliciously as the ache radiates from your core through your belly, to the tips of your toes.
"That what you wanted, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice strained and gruff, one hand still gripping your hip as he presses the other into the mattress by your head, holding himself up. "Is that enough for you?"
You struggle to find words, but you're not even sure if there are any in the English language that can convey just how good it feels.
"Uh-huh," you nod, blinking rapidly as the edges of your vision start to blur. "Fuck, Joel. You're so fucking big, oh my god."
You hear him chuckle, and he presses a chaste kiss to your temple.
"Not too much though, is it? Cause you were begging for more just a second ago. Thought you could take it, sweetheart," he croons, nuzzling his nose against your cheek.
"No, no, 'sgood, " you whimper, the words slurring together as he starts to grind into you. "F-fuck. Joel. Shit, that feels so good. Holy fuck.
"There's my good girl," he murmurs, pressing more kisses to your cheek and your jaw, trailing down the column of your neck. His lips brush against the sensitive skin, his breath hot against you. He lets you get used to the feeling, cursing under his breath and trying to think of anything else but the tight, wet heat convulsing around his cock.
"Doesn't hurt?" he asks with a sudden tenderness, his voice vibrating against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.
"No," you sigh, finally starting to relax around him.
"Good. You gonna let me know if it does, right baby? Or if you need me to stop?"
You nod weakly. "Mhm."
He kisses you then, a soft, languid, and lazy drag of his lips against yours. He slides his tongue along your lower lip, and you let him in without any hesitation, parting your lips with a breathy sigh. He takes the opportunity to swallow down every little sound that spills from your mouth, kissing you with a kind of reverence, a kind of tenderness, a kind of patience and passion that makes your heart feel like it might beat right out of your chest. 
He pulls away leaving you even more breathless and dizzy, your lips tingling and swollen. And you're not sure if it's because of the kiss or the way he's stretching you so fucking wide, but your fucking drunk on it. 
He kisses you once more, on the corner of your mouth, his lips curling up into a smile when you nuzzle against his cheek, seeking out more.
"You still with me, honey?"
"Yes, yes, I'm here," you answer, your voice sounding far away, distant and dreamy. Joel chuckles, the sound making you smile. 
"You wanna keep going, sweetheart? Or d'ya need a minute?"
"I'm good, I'm good," you assure him, trying to lift your hips a little. "You can...keep going."
"Alright. Let me know if you change your mind, okay?"
You nod and then close your eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath as Joel pulls out, just a little, his cock dragging along your walls. It's another wave of overwhelming sensation, your entire body shaking. But it's nothing compared to the feeling when he pushes back in. The same full, aching, almost painful stretch, except it's somehow even better this time, your walls gripping him tighter, pulling him in, trying to keep him there.
"Fuck, oh my god, oh my god," you cry, your breath catching in your throat, your eyes fluttering open to look up at him. "Oh, Joel, fuck."
He's hovering over you, his brows furrowed in concentration, the muscles in his arms, chest and stomach flexing and contracting as he moves above you.
"Good?" he asks, a slight sheen of sweat on his brow, his eyes hooded.
You answer with a nod, followed by a long, low moan when he starts to slowly pull out again, pushing back in a bit faster this time. He builds a rhythm, the slick drag of his cock filling you up again and again, each thrust a little deeper, a little harder, a little faster.
"You're taking it so good," he pants, his hips snapping against yours with a particularly hard thrust, the force of which has you keening and crying out his name. Your walls clench around him, a gush of slick pouring out around his cock as you subconsciously try to pull him in even further.
"God you're so fucking tight, baby. Fuckin' soaked too, dripping all over me. Fuck. So fucking wet and perfect," he groans, his voice sounding strained, almost like he's in pain. "Such a good fucking girl."
You can't do anything more than just lay there and let him fuck into you, the sounds that spill from your lips a mix of moans, whimpers and desperate little cries. Your brain feels like mush, all thought processes reduced to a single loop of his name, your lips chanting it over and over.
And Joel's not much better, the only coherent words out of his mouth a string of praises, calling you his good girl, telling you how well you're taking him, how fucking tight you are, how heavenly you feel. His hands are everywhere too, caressing, stroking, kneading, squeezing, leaving no inch of your skin untouched.
He finds a steady rhythm and you know it's not nearly as hard as he could go, not by a long shot, but every thrust and drag of his cock hits you so deep and so hard, it's a miracle that you don't shatter beneath him. And the sounds, god the sounds are so obscene, the slapping of skin against skin, the wet, squelching noises of him pounding into your dripping cunt. It's a chorus of pure debauchery, music to both of your ears, only adding to the building pleasure. 
And just when you start to think that it can't possibly get any better, he hits a spot deep inside you that has your body bowing, a strangled cry tearing from your throat. You clamp down around him and he curses, his hips stuttering, his rhythm faltering for just a moment.
"There it is," he grunts, and you can hear the smug smirk in his voice, the absolute bastard. "Right there, huh? That the spot?"
He doesn't wait for you to answer, pulling almost all the way out, and then driving back into you, hitting the same spot dead-on. And you keen and wail, your body thrashing wildly as a new wave of ecstasy washes over you.
"Yes, yes, yes," you chant, clawing at his back, digging your fingers into his shoulders.
"Yeah, I got ya," he husks, leaning down to suck and bite at the skin just below your jaw. He keeps pounding into that spot, making sure to hit it every damn time, and your vision starts to blur again, black dots dancing at the edge of your eyes.
You don't even realize you're about to come until it's crashing into you, a sudden and violent wave that threatens to tear you apart. And Joel can tell, from the way you start to shake, the way your walls are clamping down around him, the way your legs lock around his waist, and the way you're desperately gasping for air, that you're right there.
"There you go, sweetheart," he coos. "You're so fucking close aren't ya? I can feel it. You gonna come on my cock? Huh?Gonna let me feel that tight little pussy coming all over me?"
"Oh god, Joel," you sob, tears welling in your eyes, his words alone pushing you even closer.
"I know, honey. I know. Just let go, baby. C'mon, that's it. You can do it."
And then he's snaking a hand between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing rough, tight circles against the swollen bud, and the pleasure reaches its peak, the coil in your belly snapping, sending you careening off the edge. Stars burst behind your eyelids as the most intense, powerful orgasm of your life tears right through you. Every muscle in your body tenses and contracts, the rush of blood roaring in your ears as white-hot bliss erupts throughout every fiber of your being, your walls pulsing wildly, gushing slick around his cock.
He's there with you every step of the way, murmuring praise in your ear, fucking into you and grinding his cock against your cervix, prolonging your orgasm, extending it for what feels like an eternity. And then you're boneless, spent, and helplessly limp, barely aware of the way he's still rutting against you.
"So good, baby," he rasps, his voice sounding wrecked and broken. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
And then you feel him start to swell and his thrusts become erratic and you know he's right there with you, teetering on the edge, ready to fall. A few more pumps of his hips, his pace frantic and uncoordinated before he pushes himself back up on his knees and pulls out of you with a hiss. He jerks himself for half a second before spilling all over your belly and your cunt, hot, thick ropes of cum splashing against your skin. He grunts and hisses through clenched teeth, a few last drops spilling out onto your pussy, his cock throbbing against you.
You feel completely and utterly destroyed, every part of your body buzzing and tingling, still trembling. And your head feels stuffy and foggy, a hazy, peaceful kind of bliss settling deep in your bones.
Joel slumps down next to you, breathing heavy, a low, rumbling groan escaping his lips. You glance over at him, a lazy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. He's a sweaty, disheveled mess, and the sight makes your heart ache and swell, a rush of warmth flooding through your body.
He notices you looking at him and turns his head to meet your gaze, his own satisfied smile matching yours. You can't help but laugh, the sound bubbling out of your throat and spilling past your lips in a breathy giggle. Joel's smile spreads even wider, his eyes sparkling.
"What's so funny?" he asks, propping himself up on his elbow and rolling onto his side.
"Nothing, I just," you giggle again, and it's almost a hysterical kind of laugh, a nervous kind of relief flooding through your body. "That was…"
Joel chuckles, brushing a lock of hair out of your face, his fingers trailing across your forehead.
"Yeah, it was," he says, his voice a low rumble.
"And I…I just really like you, Joel. A lot. I don't know. I guess I'm just happy."
His face softens and he stares at you for a moment, his expression so fond and tender that you forget how to breathe for a moment. He leans down and kisses you, his lips gentle and warm before he pulls away. 
"I guess I like you too," he murmurs, his signature smirk playing on his lips. "I dunno about a lot, but-"
"Shut up, you ass" you giggle, slapping his shoulder. "I'm trying to have a moment."
He hums delightedly and presses another kiss to your forehead."M'kay, you have your moment. I'm gonna clean you up, alright?"
You pout but let him go, letting the afterglow of your climax envelop you until he returns a moment later with a warm wet cloth. His touch is tender, gently cleaning between your legs and then wiping the cum from your belly. You're still shaking, every touch sending little aftershocks through your body.
"So," he starts, tossing the cloth into the corner of the room before looking at you expectantly. "Best lay of your life?"
You laugh, your heart bursting at the seams, your cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so hard. 
"Not even close."
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Thank you for reading!! I apologize in advance for any errors I do not enjoy editing!!
tagging those who asked and who might be interested:
@shewantstoknow @pedritoferg @khindahra @wand-erer5 @akah565 @thereaperisabitch @first-edition @lilyevanstan1325 @lovelyjess69 @elliesswearjar @iloveenya @harriedandharassed @c2ss1e @paleidiot @starry-eyes-love @lola8888673 @saguchiya @milla-frenchy @cayleejz @missyorkswhore @farrowroyale @abbyandersonsragdoll @glimmering-darling-dolly @katiexpunk @worhols @thecasualnope @ahintofkiwistrawberry @lulawantmula @sawymredfox @prismaticpizza @serenadingtigers @venturawriter @kyloispunk @millercontracting @jjhayhay20 @bitchesuntitled @bean-is-reading @lvl-2005 @kamcrazy123 @covetyou @survivingandenduring @pinkiec6-rubi @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @pedroshotwifey @perfectlyfreeanalyst @plsdontmisfire @lokigonnakmsforbucky @kr-ickl3
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morgaseus · 3 months
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Absolutely smitten by Rayne Ames the moment I saw him. Look i'm a sucker for self-sacrificing characters. And that got me thinking...
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Schoolmate! Rayne Ames who is the Golden boy of Easton Academy; Academics? Looks? Talent? Skills? The teacher's love him, every girl loves him, the boys want to be him, and parent's wish their children were like him. He's got it all, so what's not to like about him?
And enter you, a perfectly average student who can't seem to excel at anything other than subjects you're passionate/interested about. Compared to Rayne Ames, you're nothing, not even a pebble at a sidewalk.. So when midterm results came out… you feel like your soul’s about to ascend to heaven
Schoolmate! Rayne Ames who’s as cold as the northern winds, even his fangirls have a hard time approaching him! but that won't deter you from approaching him! Not when your grades are on the line!
Schoolmate! Rayne Ames who you begged to tutor you! And if he refuses, you threaten to tell everyone how he has a soft spot for rabbits, thereby ruining his image! HA! He can't have that now can he?!
Schoolmate! Rayne Ames who absolutely does not care if you tell everyone about his fondness for rabbits; he’s got his priorities straight, he couldn’t care less about some nobody. But upon seeing how genuine you are about needing his help, relented.
Schoolmate! Rayne Ames who’s tutoring methods are brutal. You feel like a recruit being told by his superiors to do 100 pushups! You feel like you're about to cry. Ahhh, just what the hell did you put yourself into, you’d rather go to sleep, but you have to push through! Think about your parents, who worked their asses off to enroll you in a prestigious school!
Schoolmate! Rayne Ames who was the first person you told about your finals exam result. He didn't seem like it but deep down he’s very proud of you! Your score may not be the same as his but Rayne knows how much effort you put to achieve a high score.
Schoolmate! Rayne Ames who found himself always waiting for you. It's Lunchtime? You’ll come to his room to fetch him, so you two can have lunch together. It’s a semester break and there's a festival near the town? You’ll come to his dorm room so both of you can enjoy it together.
And oh, there’s a prize you really want but can’t seem to get because you suck at the game? He’ll win it for you. There’s a stuffed toy who seems to remind him of you? He’ll get it for you.
Rayne Ames who’s slowly but surely falling for you.
Rayne Ames upon realizing his feelings can't help but be disgusted. Disgusted at himself for allowing someone like him to fall for you.
Rayne Ames who slowly starts to distance himself from you. You want to eat lunch together? He’s got an important task to attend to. There’s a festival near town? Again, he's got an important task to attend to. You need his help regarding this certain subject you're having a hard time with? You can ask someone else to help you. He’s a busy man, he has no time for such frivolities.
Rayne Ames who despite his best efforts in avoiding you, can't help but feel like there’s something, someone lacking in his life. It feels so bleak, so empty,
Rayne Ames who always finds you seeking him, always asking about his whereabouts, despite it being months of avoiding you. He knows that you know he’s purposely avoiding you, any normal person would’ve given up by now, and yet, you still insist
Rayne Ames who found himself cornered by you. Apologizing to him if you did something wrong or told something offensive to him
Rayne Ames who denied any of the above. Telling you that you did nothing wrong and that you should go back to your room now, it's beyond hours.
“Then, is it because you don’t want to be seen with someone like me? Is that it Rayne? Is that it?”
Rayne Ames who’s chest ached.
Rayne Ames whose eyes are as cold as the northern winds told you: “that’s right, i'm ashamed to be seen with someone like you”
Rayne Ames who can't seem to read you, you've always worn your heart around your sleeves, but this time it's like you've totally enclosed your heart. But this should be fine right? This should be enough to deter you. So give up, stop looking for him and go on with your life. 
“You’re not being truthful, at all, Rayne. At Least tell me the truth so I can..”
Rayne Ames who clenched his teeth and told you the truth; how during those times you've been together, he found himself falling for you, and he can’t have that.
And Rayne Ames who told you that you deserve someone better; someone normal unlike him. Someone who can give you a normal life, grow old and have a normal happy family. Without him, without someone like him
Rayne Ames who heard the sharp, piercing noise, before the stinging sensation in his cheek. It took a moment for Rayne to process what happened, out of all the possible reactions for you to have, being slapped did not cross his mind.
Rayne Ames who sees your face contort with anger and sadness; telling him that he has no right to dictate what you should do with your life.
Rayne Ames who feels guilty, he knows what he’s done is wrong, but it's the only thing he knows that's right- keeping people he cherishes away from him. You shouldn’t get entangled with him any further. It's for your own good.
Rayne Ames who pulls you close to him, hiding behind the shadows of a pillar, so as to not get discovered by a patrolling staff. Your argument with him might’ve alerted them. 
Rayne Ames who became too aware of how close you are. Too close. Too close.
Rayne Ames who was ready to pull himself away from you. But before he could make a move, he felt your arms wrap around him, pulling him closer to you. Despite his inclination to pull away, he found himself melting into your embrace.
Just once, he’ll allow this luxury just once more.
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ineffable-romantics · 9 months
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Some thoughts on why and how I believe Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship would incorporate sex/why I do not read them as wholly asexual:
This is something I've seen the most discourse about in this fandom, and I've had a few thoughts of my own that I really wanted to expand upon in a full meta/character analysis post. I do understand that this can be a contentious topic, so first, let me clarify a few things:
First of all, this is going to be long. Tbh it probably won't be that organized either. I ramble and I'm not very good at editing, so just... you know. Be warned. (*Hi, it's me from 2 days after writing this; I'm really not kidding, it's LONG)
These are all my own thoughts. They might not be hot takes, because recently I've seen more than a few people come to the same conclusions on a lot of these points as I have. But I've also had these notes in my drafts for about a week and a half now, and have been continuously adding to it as things have occurred to me. This post is essentially just somewhere for me to collect the separate but related meta I've been kicking around in my head.
I fully respect anyone who does see and prefer an asexual reading of this relationship. These are my own thoughts and interpretations as someone who is not asexual. I am in the LGBT+ community, so while I do know a few things about the asexuality spectrum, I am by no means an expert.
This is NOT something I expect, need, or even necessarily want the show (or, God forbid, Neil's tumblr ask box) to address. Tonally, it's just not that kind of show. Newt and Anathema's sex scene was very much played for laughs, and it worked for that reason. If the show found a way to address it in a way that was both appropriate for the tone of the show and ultimately satisfying, then great! But there is so much more to this relationship than sex, and I didn't need a kiss to confirm their love, so I certainly don't need a sex scene. As immortal beings (as I assume they'll stay) there is so much of the rest of their lives we'll never get to see. You can headcanon them as asexual and potentially be right. I can headcanon them as not and be equally potentially right. Again, these are just a collection of my own thoughts, because I think the question of sexuality (or lack thereof) is just as interesting a facet of these characters as any other.
Note: Tbh I've been second-guessing this whole post and debated deleting the whole thing several times for being silly or unnecessary, bc I don't want anyone to think that this is the only thing I care about when it comes to this story/characters. But if nothing else, it's inspired me to write in a way that nothing has in a very long time, so I've decided it's worth continuing, if for no other reason than that.
This is going to be a mixed bag of textual reading, subtextual reading, and a full-on reach or two. It's been a while since I've been in an English class, but if my teachers expected me to find a deeper meaning behind blue curtains, you can expect me to read too deeply into the symbolism of a loaded rifle or an ox rib. (This is probably not what my professors had in mind when grading my literary analysis papers but oh well) My point is, if it feels like a reach, I'm as aware of it as you are. I am in no way saying that all (or even any) of my points made were deliberate on the part of Neil or the actors or the writers or the directors. I am no longer the delulu Apple Tree Yard child of my youth, I promise.
If anything said here is in any way offensive or hurtful to anyone in the asexual community, please do not hesitate to message me or comment and let me know exactly what it was. I promise you it is not my intention to do so, and am happy to clarify or outright edit anything that reads that way.
With all that being said, let's talk about why I think Crowley and Aziraphale would absolutely fuck nasty incorporate sex into their relationship.
Note: I am out of practice with essay writing, so I think I'll just go down the bullet points of notes I have been making, and expand on each as best I can
Food
Where better to start than with Aziraphale's introduction to Pleasures Of The Flesh? (Just a heads up, this entire post may feel very Aziraphale-heavy, and with good reason).
This might be the least hot take here. We've all seen the Job minisode. We've all seen That Scene.
Whether this was intentional or not, the symbolism here is off the charts. Eve was tempted by an apple. So why not go a similar route and tempt Aziraphale with another fruit, or cheese, or bread, or literally anything else for his first experience with food? Instead, we go with a huge, glistening slab of fresh meat that he proceeds to absolutely go feral upon, moaning and gasping into his meal while Crowley watches with what definitely doesn't look to be disgust or even satisfaction with a good temptation. There's surprise at the ferocity of Aziraphale's appetite, certainly. But ultimately he looks to be intensely fascinated by it, while the thunder crashes, the music crescendos, and the earth literally shakes around them.
(It's also interesting to note how very little it takes for Crowley to tempt him with the ox rib. One murmured suggestion, a bit of unwavering eye contact, and vavoom Aziraphale immediately meets him in the middle.)
Cut to Aziraphale devouring the rest of the meat with Crowley splayed back on a makeshift bed, drinking wine and continuing to watch him indulge through half-lidded eyes. Outside a thunderstorm rages while they're learning secrets about each other in warm flickering firelight. It's cosy, it's intimate, and if they'd thrown in a bearskin throw blanket, it might as well be a post-coital scene straight out of Game of Thrones.
The next time (chronologically) we see them discuss food is when Aziraphale "tempts" Crowley with oysters in Rome. So Crowley first tempts Aziraphale with meat and then Aziraphale tempts Crowley with what is widely regarded to be an aphrodisiac. Interesting.
And then chronologically after that, the Arrangement begins to form, which has always reeked of a friends with benefits situation. Just to throw that in there.
It's What Humans Do
In the very first episode, we're shown Gabriel's obvious disgust and bewilderment towards Aziraphale eating sushi, calling it "gross matter" and being proud of the fact that he does not sully his body with it. Aziraphale initially tries to defend his own enjoyment in it, before passing it off as something that humans do, as something he simply has to do in order to blend in (which we know very well is not the case).
He does this again in season 2, passing off Nina and Maggie being in love as "something humans do". But it isn't, is it? Angels are beings of love, and can sense it, and understand very well what it is... up to a point. Even romantic love is obviously within their wheelhouse, given what we now know happened between Gabriel and Beelzebub (we'll come back to them).
What the "humans do" that angels wouldn't understand is messy, physical forms of love.
But here's the thing: Aziraphale and Crowley love doing what the humans do. They love drinking, they (or at least Aziraphale) love eating. They love music. Crowley loves driving and sleeping and watching rom-coms and sitcoms. Aziraphale loves reading and doing magic and earning little licenses and certificates for achievement in his various hobbies. They love to playact at being human so much that they've stopped playacting and started building a genuinely human lifestyle for themselves and with each other.
Once together in an unambiguously romantic sense, why do we think they wouldn't also want to explore one of the most prominent, intimate, powerful human expressions of love and desire with each other?
Angels, Demons, & Asexuality
Here's where I really want to clarify that in no way do I mean that sex is necessary for a healthy, fulfilling, and loving romantic relationship, or that the lack of desire for sex makes you any less human. Asexuality is a sexuality as valid and human as any. What I would say is that it is definitely in the human minority compared to allosexuality.
Angels and demons, on the other hand, are predominately asexual. Sexless/genderless unless Making An Effort. (Which, btw, is a concept introduced as early as the original book; why even bring it up as a possibility? Why not keep angels/demons being sexless/asexual as a hard and fast rule, if not to open up the potential for later use? Chekhov's Effort, if you will. And isn't that something that Aziraphale in particular is shown to do time and time again? He makes an effort in French and driving and magic, doesn't he?)
And this is why I don't believe Aziraphale and Crowley necessarily need to be asexual, narratively. There is already a huge amount of ace rep within the angels and demons (and no, not just the horrible ones. Muriel also doesn't "drink the tea" and has no reason or desire thus far to Make An Effort, and there are certainly other angels and demons who aren't horrible like the archangels seem to be who likely wouldn't Make An Effort either).
The central conflict for Aziraphale and Crowley is that they are on their own side, the ones who went native, the ones who are so different in so many ways from their respective hives. It would make sense for them to also break away from traditional angel/demon asexuality.
I say "traditional angel/demon asexuality", because I would also like to note that I would absolutely not rule out demisexuality for either of them. This post is being written to as a response to people who specifically believe that they (like the rest of the angels/demons seem to be) would be sex-averse in a relationship, and that it wouldn't be a factor in their relationship. I could easily read them as demisexual, but I do think there would be no real way of verifying this, because they've never been able to form as close an emotional relationship with anyone else but each other. Certainly not in heaven, and I can't imagine they would be able to form that kind of attachment with any of the humans, who they love and emulate but ultimately regard as the separate species they are. So yes, they could either be allosexual or demisexual, in my opinion.
Then again, now that I think about it, Making An Effort itself could be a great metaphor for demisexuality, since they would be entirely sexless/asexual until they have enough of an emotional connection with someone to consciously manifest otherwise. Since the other angels and demons don't generally form those types of emotional connections with anyone, there hasn't been a precedent for it.
Except...
Brielzebub
We do have a precedent for it now, don't we? Gabriel and Beelzebub fell in love. They are a direct foil for Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship, speedrunning right through their courtship and finding their happily ever after on the other side of things.
For being such a 1 to 1 comparison, it feels deliberate that they did not kiss. They held hands, they were gooey with each other, but they did not kiss. That feels like such a deliberate thing to omit when you know what's to come at the end of the episode between Crowley and Aziraphale.
And going back to the food = sex metaphor for a moment, let's notice how even as they fell in love over the years, even when pints and crisps were there on the table in front of them, they never felt the desire to reach out for them. They didn't need to. It's a date (love story) even if you aren't eating dinner (sleeping together).
Yes, I know Jim liked hot chocolate. No, I am not counting it because I don't consider Jim and Gabriel to be the same person with the same proclivities, and Jim was highly suggestible at the time anyway.
Gabriel and Brielzebub's big happily ever after moment (as of now) was one between two asexual supernatural beings. They did not need to kiss to drive the point home. They showed what Crowley and Aziraphale could have, if they would only acknowledge it.
Crowley & Aziraphale's Dissatisfaction
But they do have that already, don't they? If you really think about it, what do Gabriel and Beelzebub do with each other that Crowley and Aziraphale don't already? They hold hands, they spend time together, they create little rituals, they give gifts, they're visibly and verbally affectionate with each other, etc. They are more or less already in a romantic asexual marriage relationship with each other, aren't they?
And it doesn't seem to be enough for either of them.
At the beginning of the season, Crowley is immediately shown to be unsatisfied with the way things are. Obviously part of it comes from living in his car, but it seems to be more than that (especially since Aziraphale makes it clear that the bookshop is just as much Crowley's as his, implying that he could have been living there the whole time and is choosing not to, for some reason?). You could argue he's feeling unmoored without Hell telling him what to do, but isn't that what he wanted? Isn't that what he still wants, by the end of the season? All season long, he's never indicated the desire for a new job, or a new project. He stopped the apocalypse because he wanted the freedom to openly spend time with Aziraphale, to spend his time on Earth however he sees fit. Until Gabriel arrives, he has exactly that (minus a flat).
So where does the dissatisfaction come from? And if it represents anything to do with his relationship, what does he want out of it that he isn't getting already?
I think Crowley only really comes to the realisation of what he's missing when Nina names it for him, not only putting them in the category of romantic, but physical (outright asking if they are sleeping together). These two posts [1], [2] go into more detail about what I mean, but I think it really pushes him into acknowledging that their relationship is more human than either of them have stopped to consider, and what that might mean as far as everything a human relationship can entail.
After all, Nina and Maggie only advised that he should talk to Aziraphale, make clear his feelings. The decision to kiss him, to tip them over the edge from nonphysical to physical, that was all him. And no, kissing isn't sex, but I wonder how taboo even that might be in the kind of all-encompassing asexuality most angels seem to identify with. (If they're disgusted by food and drink, I can only imagine what they think of snogging, much less sex.)
Aziraphale doesn't have this moment of someone observing their relationship from the outside. He loves Crowley, and as of 1941 probably even knows he's in love with him in a way that Crowley doesn't understand yet. Which makes sense, since love is technically his job, he'd be more likely to recognise it for what it is.
However, Aziraphale's reference for romance and relationships is Jane Austen. It's chaste. It's dancing and dinner and doing sweet things for each other and roses and candles and handholding. He contextualises his love for Crowley in that soft fantasy sort of way, where it's there, it's obviously there, but it's neat and easy and unspoken. Not to quote Glee in this, the year of our lord 2023, but it's all very "the touch of the fingertips is as sexy as it gets".
Someone should tell that to Aziraphale's face, then.
I'm not going to pretend I know what Michael Sheen's script notes were, but there were definitely some Choices™ made. Because yes, there were plenty of moments in both seasons with Aziraphale looking at Crowley in a sweet, loving, smitten way. And then there were moments that were yearning.
But yearning for what, exactly? All of those sappy Jane Austen tropes already apply to the two of them. So why are there moments where Aziraphale is looking Crowley up and down like the last eclair in the window and licking his lips and visibly exhaling like he's trying to get in control of himself (see: Bastille scene + Crowley telling Muriel to ask him if they have any other questions about love)? Why is Aziraphale not only unconcerned when Crowley shoves him bodily up against a wall in s1, but staring at his lips and a beat too late in noticing Sister Mary's arrival? Why are some of his lines so suggestive? I'm sorry, but the car ride after the church explosion might as well have been the beginning of a Pizza Man porn with a really weird Blitz theme. If even my mother picked up on that vibe, I can't imagine it wasn't intentional on part of both the dialogue and the delivery.
(This section may feel like more of a reach/joke, but I'm really only 20% joking. These are writers and actors who are EXTREMELY good at their jobs; they know what they were doing here.)
More importantly, I don't think Aziraphale is even aware that there is more to what he wants. He lives in the Jane Austen fantasy and it never even occurs to him that he might be interested in anything further. It never even occurs to him that, as an angel, there is anything further to be interested in in the first place. Until Crowley forces it to occur to him. Just like I believe Nina forced Crowley to confront the idea that romantic love is what he's been feeling all along, I believe Crowley forced Aziraphale to confront the idea that physical intimacy is something he's been wanting, without even realising.
Aziraphale's Hedonism
Expanding on Aziraphale for a moment. We talked about his relationship with food, but we all know that Aziraphale is defined by his love of things that Feel Good.
It isn't just that he and Crowley love human things. Aziraphale loves the best of the best, or at least his version of it. He doesn't just love food, he loves going to fancy restaurants. He doesn't just love clothes, he loves soft, cosy, warm, plush clothes, or shiny, flashy, bougie fashion. He loves the warmth of tea and cocoa, loves getting drunk, and sitting in a comfy chair in the sunlight. He doesn't just experience, he indulges.
Given the emphasis put on things that Aziraphale loves just because they Feel Good, it feels narratively strange to assume that he wouldn't enjoy the feeling of being touched, or that he wouldn't be willing to try it, at least once, with someone he cared very deeply for. And just like the ox rib, I think that once he gets the first taste of things, he would absolutely tip over into complete and utter self-indulgence.
Dancing
I also think that dancing could be construed as a huge metaphor here. After all, we're told flat-out that angels don't Dance. Except one.
I would argue that Aziraphale, in fact, Made An Effort to learn how to Dance. He threw himself into the gavotte with delight (at a Victorian gay club; noted) and worked hard to be good at it. He's chomping at the bit to Dance with Crowley, working up the nerve to ask him with undeniably romantic intent and eagerness. So, angels don't Dance... unless they Make An Effort to do so.
We are told that demons, on the other hand, do Dance, but not well. Makes sense, since they're the ones who would want to encourage a deadly sin like lust, but have as little understanding of human love and physical intimacy as the angels. Crowley, however, is shown to be an excellent dancer at the ball, especially in his compatibility with Aziraphale.
(But Aziraphale WandaVisioned the ball so everyone knew how to dance! Yes, he did. However, the rest of the brainwashing doesn't seem to affect Crowley in any way, and they did actually live through the time period where this sort of dancing was a social norm; I'd be surprised if he never needed to learn. After all, the demons can't spell either, and Crowley is at least functionally literate, as far as we know.)
As of today, it's also been confirmed that when Aziraphale asked Crowley to dance, Crowley replied with "you don't dance." Not "WE don't dance". So going along with the metaphor, Crowley is just now discovering that Dancing is something Aziraphale is interested in at all, much less with him, and not denying that he himself is interested in Dancing. In his defense, I believe he was asleep for a few years while Aziraphale was learning the gavotte, so he wasn't exactly aware of Aziraphale's hot girl summer.
Love Languages
I want to expand on that; Crowley and Aziraphale's compatibility. Specifically in regards to their individual love languages.
We all know Crowley's love language is Acts of Service. I don't think there's any debate there. He loves it, Aziraphale loves it, they're both aware of it, we're all aware of it, God and Satan are aware of it, no surprise there.
You may disagree with me, but I believe Aziraphale's love language is Physical Touch, for a number of reasons. One of which being his aforementioned hedonism. Aziraphale likes things that Feel Good, remember? He likes soft clothes, and well-worn books. Neil himself has said that they like holding hands. And any time he is taken by surprise (Brielzebub getting together, the wave of love in Tadfield, etc.) what is the first thing he does? Reaches out for Crowley. He stops him with a hand to the chest in the pub. He leads him by the hand to the dance floor. He guides him by the waist in the graveyard. He reaches out during the entire Brielzebub scene, whether he can reach Crowley or not. Despite his own turmoil, he grasps at Crowley's back during the kiss.
The one time Crowley reaches out for him (not counting the kiss yet; we'll get there), he is aggressively pushed against a wall (by someone he loves and trusts) with a complete and utter lack of concern (and perhaps some interest, depending on how you read it).
And when he isn't reaching out for anyone, or there isn't anyone to reach out to? Well, he's wringing his own hands together, squeezing his own fingers, as if to find that physical comfort in himself.
So. With that theory in mind, we have Aziraphale (Physical Touch) + Crowley (Acts of Service). Throw in 6000+ years of deep love, cherished companionship, and forcibly repressed longing, and there is a very real potential of this combination resulting in fierce sexual compatibility. Where Aziraphale would want to touch and be touched, to indulge in physical pleasure with someone he adores, in the same the way he indulges in every other fine thing in his life. And where Crowley would want to indulge him in return, to give him everything he wants, and to take pleasure in Aziraphale's pleasure, in the same way he enjoys watching him take joy in food everything else.
So Aziraphale is an angel who is insecure about his own less-than-holy desires, who would want to treat Crowley like a luxury to be touched and cherished and adored. And Crowley is a demon who has, over the millennia, been unhappy about how they've been forced to deny even their friendship with each other, who would want Aziraphale to feel comfortable and safe and encouraged to indulge in earthly delights. That sounds like a stunning recipe for sexual compatibility to me.
"You said 'trust me'" / "And you did"
Just like the Job minisode, the Blitz is RIFE with symbolism (intentional or otherwise). This one will be quick, but I did want to touch on it because I thought it was interesting. Maybe I'm reaching at this point, but I'm assuming you read the tin.
First of all, Crowley not wanting to admit to never firing a gun before; comes off as someone who very much does not want to admit to their crush that they're a virgin ("You must have done this lots of times!" / "Umm.... yyyyyeah.")
(You could make the argument that Aziraphale having a firearms license and a Derringer in a hollowed-out book is symbolic of him not being a virgin while Crowley is. I disagree, for reasons I'll go into later, but it's a valid reading. However, I see it more like keeping a condom in your wallet; it's there in case you need it, but the opportunity has not yet risen no pun intended.)
More importantly, the theme of this entire minisode is trust. We already know they trust each other with their lives against the rest of Heaven, Hell, and the world. But specifically, this is about the importance of having complete trust in your partner in a charged, physically vulnerable, intimate moment, where the only danger is between the two of you.
Aziraphale needs to believe Crowley would never hurt him if he can help it. Crowley needs to trust Aziraphale's unwavering blind faith in him. Frankly, it all feels very symbolic of two people deeply in love losing their respective virginities with each other.
The trick is a success, and they share an intimate candlelit dinner in which they reaffirm their faith in each other. Aziraphale also begins to voice his agreement with Crowley, that maybe Heaven's rules shouldn't have to be as black and white as they are, and that there are benefits to... blurring the lines, shades of grey, wink wink (at which point even my mom was like, whoa guys, this is a family show).
Btw also: Can we all agree how much it looked like Crowley was getting ready to get a lapdance in that one scene? You know the one.
Also also: "Aim for my mouth"? Come on.
The Birds & The Bees
Now that I think of it, there's also something to be said for the fact that Crowley and Aziraphale are both obviously familiar with where babies come from (how they're made and how they're born) while the other angels aren't.
Something something Aziraphale and Crowley fundamentally understand sex and reproduction in a way the other angels (and probably demons) very much do not, nor have any desire to.
Probably not important. Just thought it was worth mentioning.
The Kiss™ & Religious Trauma
The Kiss. Where to even begin?
This has definitely been the hardest one to start, because there is so much going on here that I definitely won't be able to cover it all, and will certainly miss a few things here and there.
Aziraphale's reaction to the kiss afterwards is the most interesting to me. And I don't mean directly after, I don't mean the "I forgive you" part. I mean the way he touches his lips when Crowley is no longer in the room and he no longer needs to save face, when he is completely alone. Had it been directly after the kiss, it would have been rightfully read as horror, or disgust, a shield to discourage further action.
It's not. It isn't just a touch, it's a press. As desperate and angry and unexpected and imperfect as the kiss had been, Aziraphale is pressing it into himself, recreating the feeling as best he can. Beneath all the poor timing and shock and hurt from their fight and fallout, I think it's fair to say that it was something he enjoyed. Something he doesn't think he should enjoy, something that Feels Good that he only allows himself to indulge in when completely alone.
Remember, Aziraphale's idea of love is Jane Austen and gentleness and courtship and fantasy. If he'd ever even considered kissing an option, it might have been gentle pecks, cheek kisses, forehead kiss, hand kisses. Soft, safe, chaste affection.
Crowley's kiss turns all of that on its head. He introduces physical intimacy in a very real, very messy, very human way that I don't think Aziraphale ever even considered could apply to them. Considering what other angels are like and what they look down on, even Aziraphale's Jane Austen fantasies probably would have been considered taboo.
So for their first kiss to be rough and desperate and passionate in the way it was, of course he was confused and in shock. It was deeply physical, and as overwhelming and awful as it was in the moment, it Felt Good. Enough that he grasped at Crowley and kissed back, if only just for a moment, before stopping himself. Enough that he actively pressed it into his lips afterwards, in private, to remember.
I adore how Neil has decided to evolve these characters past the first book/season. More so in this season, Aziraphale and Crowley have both become such interesting allegories for queer people on either side of the spectrum of toxic religion. Aziraphale in particular obviously, because he is the side that so desperately wants to believe, to make a difference, and to unlearn all of the propaganda he's been fed over such a long time. Just like so much of organised religion, there is so much that he is told, time and time again, that he should not want, that he is silly or stupid or outright wrong for wanting. It reminds me so much of the severe Catholic guilt one might feel for wanting/engaging in sex for the first time, and the stigma of being queer layered on top of that.
What is so critical to Aziraphale's character is that he goes on wanting, and more than that, actively pursues. He was convinced to go up against Heaven and Hell and stop all of Armageddon because he wanted to go on listening to music and eating lunch and reading books and enjoying the simple company of the person he cares most deeply for, even if that person is supposed to be the enemy.
All this to say that if angels are as generally asexual/sex-averse as I believe them to be, narratively speaking, it would make sense for Aziraphale to be singular in that regard as well. Mirroring his first experience with food, it would make sense for Crowley to be the one to first introduce this new messy, physical, human dynamic between them, for Aziraphale to hesitate (obviously we are at the Hesitation phase at the moment), and then (eventually) for him to dive in wholeheartedly, to absolutely glut himself on this new thing that Feels Good. It would make sense for his character development to show him overcoming his metaphorical Catholic guilt and pursuing the sexual intimacy most (if not all) of the other angels would scorn.
(I can't help but remember that plot idea Neil described from the unwritten sequel, with Aziraphale in a hotel room trying to watch a full porno by way of the free 2-minute teaser clips so he wasn't technically sinning by paying for it. I so hope this is used in season 3, because gosh, I wonder why Aziraphale would suddenly be so interested in observing human physical intimacy after 6,000 years. Lonely and doing a little surreptitious research there, angel?)
Crowley, on the other hand, is the queer person who has broken free from his toxic religion. He prides himself on being his own person, on their his own side. He doesn't have the hang-ups Aziraphale does. He doesn't worry that he's going to be judged or cast aside for wanting things he's not supposed to. So it only makes sense for him to be the first one to suggest/initiate physical intimacy. It makes sense for him to be the one who "goes too fast" (another fantastic example of this dynamic beginning as early as s1; what is that conversation in the car meant to represent, if not Aziraphale being overwhelmed by the intensity of their relationship, and his fear of succumbing to it when he believes he shouldn't? It's also interesting that this is the first conversation to take place in Soho, just after watching Aziraphale realise he's caught feelings for a demon, with the red glow of lust serving as the backdrop).
Do I think the kiss in and of itself was sexual? No. I think it was a passionate and devastating last-ditch effort on Crowley's part to convey the way he feels for Aziraphale. Not just that he loves him, but that he loves him in the most human way possible. But I do think that the kiss represents how they can move forward from here, and what they might want to explore with each other once they feel free enough to do so.
In Conclusion
I am sure, deep in my bones (unless we are explicitly told otherwise), that this was both of their first kisses no, I'm not counting the gavotte, and that neither of them have ever thought to do anything else physical with the humans while they have been on Earth. Like I said before, they adore the human race and lifestyle in general, but ultimately view them as a separate species altogether, and they seem mostly happy to keep to themselves and each other, unless otherwise necessary. I just can't see either of them being drawn enough to a human to pursue anything close to sex. If Crowley in particular has had anything to do with sex in the context of temptations, I'm positive he would be inciting lust amongst the humans themselves, not involving himself directly. At least not that directly.
So, like every other human experience they've had on Earth, sex is something new that they could explore together, just the two of them, on their own side. A deeply intimate, tangible declaration of their love and everything they've gone through to earn it. A visceral finger to give both Heaven and Hell. A renewed appreciation for their corporations and for each other's. A enjoyable method for immortal beings to simply pass the time in each other's company. A new and exciting way to Feel Good, and all the variations that come with it.
You might agree with this post, or you might not. Whether this is something that is ever addressed or not, it doesn't matter to me. This is a brilliant love story either way, and I genuinely feel so privileged to witness it.
But I just can't find it in myself to imagine, given everything we know about these two characters, that sex isn't an experience they would both consume with wholehearted enthusiasm, curiosity, and profound, ineffable adoration.
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Bonus feature: the very silly notes I made to myself that inspired this post
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videovamptramp · 4 months
Text
you aren’t mine to lose
// you’ve had a crush on ellie since you were kids. you two have always been best friends; until she gets a girlfriend who ironically hates you. //
warnings: pinning, angst, stoner/dealer!ellie, modern day au, i can never write anything happy, this isn’t proof read so my grammatical errors may need a warning???
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(you love me, but you’ll never love me as much as you love her)
ellie has been your best friend since you were both 13. throughout high school, the two of you only grew closer. your mother often joked that you were both conjoined at the hip. everywhere ellie was, you were, and vice versa. your crush on ellie started a little after the first year of high school. the brunette has always been really nice to you; even if she was awkward, and didn’t understand very many social cues… ellie was your favorite person in the whole wide world.
your crush on ellie only got worse as the two of you got older. you even found yourself following her after graduation to the university of jackson. now it was your first year of college, and the two of you were still the best of friends. that is, until ellie got a girlfriend. in all honesty, you were a depressed wreck when ellie first started talking to tiffany. she was a blonde with blue eyes, and had a body that could stop a trucker from a mile away. she was perfect in every single way, and it was obvious why ellie liked her. it was also pretty obvious that tiffany hated you. ellie was, of course oblivious to the tension between you and the psych major, but you were pretty sure tiffany only hated you because she knew how you felt about ellie.
but that didn’t discourage you from keeping your friendship with the brunette you’ve come to love so much. you never expected ellie to return your feelings. in fact, that’s the main reason you’ve been so supportive of her relationship with tiffany from the beginning. sure, it made you sad and sometimes you didn’t want to talk to ellie, because all she’d talk about was tiffany… but you still tried really hard to text her and hang out with her. maybe it wasn’t as much as you two used to, but still, you were trying and that’s all that matters, right?
“so are you gonna be at jesse’s party tonight?” your roommate dina inquires curiously, as she folds some of her clothes. she pulls you out of your ellie-induced thoughts, causing you to pry your eyes away from the textbook you hadn’t been paying any attention to. “um, no. i have to study for my english seminar. mr. lydon always calls on me.” you half lie, and dina rolls her eyes playfully. “that’s because you practically know everything already. he’s impressed and probably gonna offer you a position as a student teacher next year.” she admits, and your eyes light up at the thought. you were majoring in english, because it’s always been your dream to be an english teacher or professor.
“you really think he’ll ask me? yara’s super smart and she’s been talking about wanting to be a student teacher since the year started.” you point out, while dina waves dismissively after putting some of her shirts away. “he’s definitely gonna ask you, y/n. you two are always talking about star wars and your weird love for the semi colon.” she taunts, making you blush in a bit of embarrassment. “it’s just… it’s a pause without a coma or period— never mind, you wouldn’t understand. science geek.” you tease your roommate back, causing her to gasp in mock offense as she reaches for a pair of folded socks, tossing them right at your face.
you giggle, and as your laughter dies down, dina flashes you a look. “you should really come tonight though. ellie’s gonna be there.” she continues to pick on you, but you can hear the slight seriousness in her tone. you groan, “which means tiffany is also gonna be there.” you counterpoint. you say the blonde’s name as if it’s venomous, and dina shakes her head, the annoyance on her face clear as water. “ugh, i hate her. i swear, if she tries to psycho analyze me because i had a bad day one more time, i’m going to punch her and ruin that nose job her daddy paid for.” dina states in a tone too serious to be a joke, and you flash her a look of surprise before you both burst into a fit of laughter.
“still, you should go with me tonight. word on the street is ellie and her have been arguing a lot lately.” dina confesses, and this seems to spike your interest. you quirk a brow in your roommates direction, ellie hasn’t told you anything about her and tiffany fighting. then again, you’ve barely been texting ellie about anything other than plans for group hangouts or memes. “what are they fighting about?” you ask, unable to hide the fact that you’re suddenly intrigued. dina shrugs, “i don’t know, but it seems pretty bad. i heard tiffany yelling the other day. like at the top of her lungs yelling. i think the dorm rep had to get involved.” she explains, and your eyes widen a bit.
why didn’t ellie tell me anything?
“look, we can go with our matching flare jeans!” dina holds up the pair of black jeans she had just washed; they were your favorite pair because they had hearts on them. you shake your head, offering her a small smile. “fine. i’ll go; but if i get anything less than a eighty on tomorrow’s assignment, i’m blaming you.” you warn her playfully, and the grin on dina’s face makes your smile widen. you close the book you had long forgotten about, and get up; deciding to pick out your outfit for tonight. you settle on the flare jeans and a black furry sweater that’s too small to even keep you warm. your hair is still a bit damp from your shower earlier, but you let down both of your braids anyways; allowing the semi-curly hair to fall down. after putting on some mascara and lipgloss, you aimlessly scroll through tiktok while you wait for dina to finish getting ready.
by the time the raven haired girl is finished, jesse is texting the group chat, letting you both know the kegs are full and ready. apparently ellie was supplying the weed, and one of jesse’s friends was bringing bottles of liquor along with some packs of beer. “you should text ellie and tell her you’re gonna come.” dina suggests, as you both make your way out of your dorm hall, stepping out into the horrid cold. “so… you and jesse…” you trail off, a tiny smirk etched onto your lips. you can see dina blushing under one of the lampposts, causing you to chuckle. “jeez, d, you really like this guy huh?” you question and her blush deepens; her cheeks turning crimson red.
“he’s sweet… i know we just met earlier this year, but i feel like i really know him. you know? like i know his heart.” dina explains, and you smile brightly. “wow, i never thought i’d hear you talking about someone in such a sappy way.” you poke fun at her, but your friend can hear the softness in your voice and see the fondness in your eyes. dina grins, “yeah, well, who knows, he might get lucky tonight.” she half jokes and you gasp, throwing your head back while releasing a howling laugh.
when you get to the frat house, there’s already hoard of people there. the music is loud, but not too loud, so for that you’re sort of grateful. jesse finds you both a minute after you two walk in; he has a large smile on his face and his varsity jacket hanging off his back. “hello ladies.” he says, his smile more directed to dina. “hey jesse, is ellie here yet?” you ask curiously, trying to sound nonchalant, but he can see right through you. he nods, “yup! she’s in the back rolling a few j’s. you can head back there and say hi if you want. she’s alone.” he clarifies, and you smile gratefully. “thanks! i’ll see you guys in a minute. save me a dance, party girl.” you tell dina, and she nods. “you better come find me to dance!” she warns, and you giggle as you begin to make your way to the back of the frat house.
the only bedroom downstairs is usually used for seven minutes in heaven, or for movie nights. when you push your way into the bedroom the room is full of smoke, and you spot ellie sitting on the bed. she’s wearing a buttoned up flannel shirt, and those old faded jeans that you love on her. she’s staring out of the closed window, seemingly deep in thought; her short brown hair barely reaches the nape of her neck, and you can’t help but stare for a minute as you lean against the doorframe. she takes another drag of the joint, inhaling the smoke and keeping it in her throat before releasing it. “hey there.” you pull her out of her thoughts, causing her to snap her head in your direction.
ellie’s eyes change as soon as they land on you. her face expression goes soft. “hey. what are you doing here?” she questions, her voice light but clearly confused. “dina convinced me to come.” you explain shortly as you walk in, inching closer to ellie. you don’t seem to notice the way those pale green eyes seem to roam up and down your body as you stand in front of her. she holds the joint out, offering you some. ellie knows you love to smoke, you’re not a drinker, but you’ve always been a smoker. growing up, you were the only one who was always down to get high with ellie. it was, shamefully her favorite thing. getting high alone or with anyone else wasn’t the same for her.
you gladly take it, placing the joint between your lips before fixing your sweater, and taking the lit joint out of your mouth. you hold the smoke while you hand it back to ellie, offering her a cute little smile that makes something in her chest clench. you cough a little after exhaling the smoke, and it makes her chuckle. “good?” she asks, and you nod, “what strain as that?” you wonder out loud, “cherry chem.” she answers vaguely, placing the joint between her own lips as she reaches into her backpack, retrieving a little wooden box. you watch inquisitively as she opens the box and reveals a bunch of freshly rolled joints.
“here.” she says as she pulls out five and hands them to you. you shake your head, “no, it’s okay—“ she cuts you off, “you don’t wanna get too drunk tonight, do you, princess?” she asks, the old nickname causing you to blush under her droopy, hooded eyes. you reluctantly accept them, knowing ellie is right. you always get too drunk when you don’t smoke in order to level yourself out. “thanks els.” you thank her with that god damn smile on your face, and ellie feels as if the sun is shining on her face. you make her feel so warm.
“sit down.” she says, handing you the nearly finished joint, as she pats the empty space right beside her. you scrunch your nose in disgust, “no way, i saw joan sanders come in here with tommy last month. i know what happens on this bed.” you says in a prissy tone that causes ellie to laugh. “such a priss.” she mutters as she pulls you by your hips and causes you to fall onto the bed right next to her. you gasp, pushing her arm roughly. “ellie!” you squeal in disgust, but you get a whiff of her cologne that causes your head to go fuzzy. your face is hot, and ellie is smirking at you in a way that causes the butterflies in your belly to repopulate.
“it’s almost finished.” you scowl, and ellie shrugs as she snatches the joint out of your hands, tossing it into the ashtray. “i’ll light another one. unless you got somewhere to be.” she raises a brow, and you shake your head, flashing her a puzzled look. “aren’t you supposed to be hanging out with tiffany tonight? you guys are always at every party together.” you point out, and you notice the way ellie tenses at the sound of her girlfriends name. her demeanor shifts as she reaches for another joint, and lights it.
“she’s with her friends tonight. you know ashley and miley?” she asks with clear disdain on her face. you nod, “i know of them. they’re on the cheer team right?” you respond with a question, and she merely nods. “yeah. she’s with them i think.” ellie mutters, and you go quiet for a minute. “dina told me you guys have been fighting lately...” you start, and ellie rolls her eyes. “… why didn’t you tell me anything?” you ask her, and she shrugs. “didn’t wanna bother you with my dumb ass relationship problems.” she mumbles, as she hands you the joint.
you throw her a look of surprise, “your problem are not dumb, ellie.” you say sternly, and she scoffs. “they are. she’s… she’s being stupid.” she murmurs, and you furrow your brows. you’ve never heard ellie speak negatively about tiffany before. if anything, whenever she’d bring the blonde up she’d have this dorky grin on her face. now she looks exhausted. “what happened?” you ask carefully, and ellie freezes. you’ve known each other for years and ellie tells you everything; yet she doesn’t want to tell you about the this. the more you think about it, the more you realize ellie’s never told you anything about her and tiffany fighting. not even once.
she seems to have put a wall up for the first time without you even noticing. have you really been pulling away that much, that you didn’t even notice something’s been going on with her? in your defense, you were only pulling away from her to protect your heart. you knew ellie could never want you the way you want her, and whenever you saw her with tiffany, it hurt.
she shakes her head refusing to tell you. “it’s nothing.”
your brows knit together, she’s never shut you out about anything. ellie’s even told you all of the embarrassing things about herself; she was an open book with no filter when it came to you… but right now it seemed like she didn’t want to tell you what the arguments between her and tiffany are about. the silence in the room is thick, and you can hear the muffled music coming from behind the door. you open your mouth to speak, but jesse rushes into the room, “hey ellie, dani wants to know if she can buy a few joints off you.” the dark haired boy states causing ellie to get up. “yeah, sure. come on, wanna get a drink?” ellie asks you. you nod, standing up and following the brunette and jesse out of the room.
there’s even more people here than there was when you first arrived, and as you check your phone, you realize you were with ellie for nearly thirty minutes. ellie reaches for your hand so she doesn’t lose you in the crowd, and you gladly take it. your stomach flips as soon as your skin meets hers, and she leads you over to the kitchen. jesse walks up to dani with you and ellie not far behind, and your eyes wander around the crowded area as ellie begins to make a deal with the basket ball player. ellie squeezes your hand when she’s done, and the smile she flashes you makes your knees weak.
“whatcha’ want to drink?” she asks you with that cute raspy voice that drives you crazy. “just a cranberry vodka, if you guys have any cranberry juice.” ellie’s sure you don’t mean to look up at her with those sexy lidded eyes, but you do and she finds her mouth going dry. “coming right up.” she winks at you, and nearly grimaces at how awkward she is. you giggle while she makes your drinks, the buzz from ellie’s weed barely now hitting you. you’re partially reminded of why you’ve been trying not to smoke; because whenever you’re high, ellie is all you can think about. it makes you sad knowing she’s probably thinking about making up with her girlfriend right now.
ellie hands you your drink first, before making her own. you take a sip, grimacing at the strong taste of alcohol, “ellie!” the girly voice nearly causes you to wince as tiffany bounces up to the brunette; wrapping her arms around the back of ellie’s neck. you don’t see the way ellie forces a smile because your eyes are now glued to the red drink in your cup. “hey babe.” ellie greets her girlfriend, and the term of endearment causes a pang of pain to linger in your chest. you take a swig of your drink, and ellie looks over at you apologetically. you flash her a small, reassuring smile yet she can see it isn’t your usual smile.
ellie wants to say something to you, but before she can, dani makes her way back to you both. “uh, hey y/n.” the basketball player greets you, and you gratefully find an excuse to pry your gaze off of ellie and tiffany. “hey dani. how did you do on mr. lyndon’s quiz yesterday?” you ask her, and ellie tries not frown as she notices the way the taller girls eyes wander over your body. “i did terrible! i can’t believe midterms are next week. i’m not ready.” the tall girl admits and amusement glints in your eyes as you look up at her. “i like your necklace, by the way.” she adds, complimenting the silver necklace dangling off your collar bone. you smile brightly, your fingers going to play with the necklace your mother gave you before you left to college. you and your sisters all have the same one.
“thanks. my mom got it for me when i turned eighteen. i like your jacket.” you pull on the ends of her varsity jacket, batting your eyes up at her, and tiffany frowns as you don’t notice that ellie’s hard gaze is fixated on you. tiffany definitely notices, and it causes her to scowl. “wanna go smoke?” dani asks, pulling a joint out of her pocket. you grin, but ellie intervenes. “i already smoked her out.” the brunette clarifies, locking eyes with the jock and flashing her a warning look that makes you frown. dani looks at you, ignoring ellie and smirking right at you. “wanna go for round two, princess?” she asks, and something in ellie’s stomach twists uncomfortably at the sound of dani calling you “princess”.
“sure. i’m always down to smoke.” you say, and you flash ellie a look that she doesn’t recognize before you wrap yourself around the jocks arm. ellie keeps her eyes on you as you disappear out of the kitchen with dani, “looks like dani is getting lucky tonight.” tiffany declares, pulling ellie out of her thoughts. if ellie weren’t so preoccupied with thinking about you and dani, she would’ve found that comment strange. but ellie is high and she isn’t thinking about anything other than you giving those eyes to dani walsh.
ellie’s face twists at the mere thought of you hooking up with the raven haired girl tonight. ellie can’t come up with a single reason why she feels so upset about it; you’re single after all, and dani is undoubtedly every girls type. she shakes her head, “no. y/n’s not that kind of girl.” ellie says more to herself than to her girlfriend. tiffany scoffs, “did you not see what i saw? your friend is totally into her.” tiffany says as she takes ellie’s cup and takes a swig. she makes a face, “ugh. cranberry? seriously, ellie? you know i hate cranberry.” she mutters in disgusts, and ellie flashes her a sheepish smile.
“sorry, it was y/n’s drink choice.” the brunette replies, and tiffany rolls her eyes. “what?” ellie asks, detecting the clear annoyance that came from her saying your name. “nothing.” tiffany mutters and ellie rolls her eyes, a wave of frustration washing over her. “seriously, what’s wrong? you look pissed.” ellie points out, and the shorter girl flashes her a sardonic expression. “oh, now you noticed? you’ve been so preoccupied with y/n tonight, you haven’t even talked to me!” she snaps, and ellie’s eyes widen. “what!? you’re the one who ditched me as soon as we got here to hang out with your friends! what do you want me to do? follow you around like a puppy all night?” ellie begins to raise her voice, losing her cool.
“no i don’t want that! i want you to care about me more than you care about y/n!” she shouts, and ellie shakes her head in bewilderment. “what the fuck is your problem with her?! y/n’s my best friend, and i love her! i love you too, but fuck, tiffany!” ellie is clearly losing all the cool inside of her body, if she was angry before she’s even angrier now. “but what?” the blonde challenges, crossing her arms and flashing ellie a stern look. ellie goes quiet, “say it.” tiffany adds demandingly, and ellie scoffs, “say what?” she mumbles, playing dumb. “what you’ve always known but never had the balls to admit. you love me, but you’ll never love me as much as you love her.” tiffany snaps, and ellie can only stare at her with inscrutable features etched onto her face.
the silence is telling, and it seems to give tiffany the only answer she needs. “i’m done coming second in this relationship, ellie. you have to tell me right now… do you love me more or her?” tiffany’s voice is harsh and up for no debates. ellie lets out a breathless chuckle, more so because she’s surprised at the absurd question. “are you serious?” she questions, her voice laced with pure disbelief. tiffany is staring at her as if ellie is the crazy one, and it just now hits ellie that you’ve been alone with dani for over fifteen minutes.
“i don’t have time for your shit tonight, dani. y/n’s cross faded and i’m not gonna let her go home with some sleaze from the basketball team, all because you’re jealous.” she hisses, as she turns around to walk away, but tiffany stops her by reaching out and grabbing her arm. ellie spins and around to face her girlfriend; her patience wearing thin. “i’m jealous!? ellie, look at you! you’re going crazy because y/n might hook up with someone else!” she exasperatedly snaps, and the words seem to knock some sense into ellie. she glances down at her shoes, a bit ashamed; “look me in the eye and tell me right now that you’re not in love with her.” the shorter girl demands. ellie’s eyes lock with tiffany’s piercing blue eyes, and all she can think about is you.
you and your smile. you and your laugh. the way you say her name, and how you remember everything she says. the tiny scar on your back nobody else knows about. the way your eyes light up when you’re excited…
ellie wants to say no. she wants to be a good girlfriend and assure tiffany that she’s in love with her and only her… but as she thinks about your soft eyes being directed at some jock looking to get “lucky”, ellie knows she can’t say it. tiffany lets out a scoff, shaking her head before loosening her grip on ellie’s wrist. “you can’t even say it! you can’t even look at me and lie about it!” tiffany pushes her finger into ellie’s chest, and ellie feels an overwhelming sense of guilt as she begins to calm down. her thoughts seem to rationalize but she knows she’s already fucked up. “tiff…” she trails off, and the cheerleader shakes her head, tears pooling in her baby blue eyes.
“just go get her before she leaves with dani.” tiffany sounds defeated, and a part of ellie is telling her to stay and fix things with tiffany, but there’s a loud voice in her head telling her to go and make sure you haven’t left with that other girl. ellie doesn’t say anything else as she walks out of the kitchen, leaving dani alone. she’s certain whatever was left of the relationship is now over, but she can’t seem to care. you’re the only thing on her mind as her gaze flitters all over the room in search for you. her eyes zero in on dina who is dancing with someone ellie barely knows; the brunette doesn’t think twice before interrupting.
“have you seen y/n? she’s with dani and she’s pretty faded. i wanna make sure she’s okay.” ellie rushes the words out, sounding like a nervous wreck. dina stops dancing for a moment, raising a brow, “uh, i just talked to y/n like four minutes ago, she seemed fine. she said her and dani were gonna smoke and maybe walk back to her dorm.” dina winks insinuatingly, and ellie’s heart falls into the pit of her stomach.
“shit… did they leave through the front or back?” ellie sounds apprehensive, and it causes a wave of confusion to wash over the raven haired girl. “the front i think… wait why does it matter?” dina questions, and ellie shakes her head. “because all dani wants to do is get in y/n’s pants.” ellie hisses, and dina raises her brows in slight shock at the sudden outburst. she watches ellie rush off, and before she can think about chasing after her best friend, jesse swoops in and pushes past the guy dina had been dancing with. “mind if i cut in?” jesse asks hopefully, and dina nods happily, quickly forgetting about you and ellie.
ellie goes out the front door of the frat house, and her eyes flicker around in search for you. when her eyes land on you, her stomach knots up as she sees you’re now wearing dani’s jacket and saying something that ellie can’t make out. her eyes widen and her mind races, as you two begin walking in the direction of the dorm rooms. ellie’s heart nearly stops beating, and it’s like her body has a mind of its own as she begins to rush over in your direction. “y/n wait!” she calls out and you stop in your tracks, spinning around at the sound of your best friends voice.
“ellie?” you sound confused; whenever her and tiffany get together during a party like this, you almost never see her till the next day. “is everything okay?” you ask as she stalks up to you. she has this unrecognizable look etched onto her face, “i just… i needed to talk to you—“ ellie cuts herself off when she sees the smile that was on your face drop. “is it tiffany? did you guys fight again?” you ask, clearly concerned. dani looks at you, then ellie, “i can give you two a minute of you want.” she tells you, and you offer her a grateful smile. “i’ll be right there.” you promise, and ellie hates how soft your gaze is when it’s directed at the jock.
dani offers you an annoyingly charming smile before walking a few feet away from you and ellie. “what’s wrong? what happened with tiffany?” you you ask her, and ellie shakes her head. “since when is dani your type?” she completely ignores your question, going straight for what’s been bugging her all night. you look taken back by the disdain in her voice, causing you to let out a breathless chuckle. “how is she not my type? she’s cute, and nice…” you trail off, and ellie blows a raspberry with her mouth. “so that’s all it takes for you to hookup with someone?” she practically interrogates you, causing you to frown.
“excuse me?” you respond, the offense in your tone clear as day. “what’s your problem? just because we’re hitting it off and i’m going to let her walk me back to my dorm, doesn’t mean i’m going to let her screw me, ellie!” you hiss, trying to keep your voice down in order for dani not to hear. the brunette scoffs, “yeah, sure, did you see the way you were looking at her? plus you’re wearing her fucking jacket, and she’s been smoking you out… she thinks she’s getting lucky tonight.” ellie sounds angrier than you’ve ever heard, and you can’t for the life of you figure out why. “it doesn’t matter what she thinks, ellie. she’s not getting lucky tonight unless i say so!” you snap.
“besides, why do you even care so much about what i do with dani!? shouldn’t you be up tiffany’s ass like you always are?!” you know you sound much harsher than you ever do, which is why ellie suddenly has this kicked dog-like expression on her face. “i-i don’t care! i just don’t think it’s cool how she started preying on you and trying to get you all high. she’s a sleaze!” ellie argues, and you roll your eyes. “yeah, well, that’s up for me to decide. i’ll see you tomorrow, ellie. when we’re both sober.” your voice is lower than before, and you flash her one last look before turning around and making your way over to dani.
ellie pathetically watches as you and dani begin to leave together, and her heart plummets right into her stomach. tiffany’s words from earlier are ringing in her head; “you love me, but you’ll never love me as much as you love her.” ellie stupidly realizes tiffany was right. she loves you more than she’s ever loved anyone… yet as she watches dani entwine her hand with yours before you both disappear in the direction of the dormitory, she realizes you aren’t hers to love. and you certainly aren’t hers to lose.
a/n(PLEASE READ): here’s a one-shot i wrote earlier this month, i just finished the next part of “i’m right over here, why can’t you see me”. it should be posted by christmas, and yes i will be tagging everyone who commented on it 🖤 - vamp
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thestarrynightslover · 8 months
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Discreet Not Detached
Pairing: Harvey Specter x Fem!Reader
Word count: 1,397
Warnings: None, really.
Summary: Mike goes to Harvey's apartment to deliver some files only to be proved wrong about his boss being a lonely workaholic.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the show Suits, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way, or know anyone involved with it.
A/N: My first Harvey fic in a while, I had the idea based on an episode (I don't remember exactly which) and tried to elucidate to it here. Anyways, I hope it doesn’t suck and feedback is appreciated as usual!
(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)
| masterlist |
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Another day in the office, another drama for Harvey Specter: this time it was his associate, Mike Ross, wanting to tell his girlfriend the whole truth about the terms of his employment and Harvey couldn’t let him do it, for obvious reasons. But, as you’d expect, namecallings happened and it all ended with Mike throwing in Harvey’s face his being an alleged workaholic in lack of a personal 一 and, in this case, love 一 life. Emphasis on alleged, cause what Mike didn’t know was that his boss actually did have someone to go home to…
It had been a long day but at least you got to go home to your excentric puddle of comfort of a boyfriend: New York City’s best closer, Harvey Specter. Once you got to your place, where the two of you lived together, you were welcomed with the smell and the view of a freshly cooked dinner that Harvey probably had someone making for the two of you.
As you started taking off your coat and shoes by the door, Harvey came out of your shared bedroom wearing nothing but sweatpants and looking like he’d just taken a shower. “Oh, hey, honey!” He greeted you with a smile on his face. “Sorry I didn’t wait for you to shower but I mingled too much with people of dubious hygiene today, so I kinda really needed to get clean.”
“Ah, that’s okay,” you said while pouting cutely at the same time. “At least dinner is ready, 'cause I am starving!”
“Ha! You say it like it’s cutting-edge news!” He tells you, as he puts on a shirt 一 much to your disappointment. 
“What is that supposed to mean?!” You ask feigning offense while putting away your bag, shoes, and coat.
“It means that you’re always starving, sweetheart,” Harvey answers nonchalantly like it’s nothing.
“That is not true! Or at least it’s not entirely true: I’m always starving if it’s past mealtime and I haven’t eaten!”
“Sure, whatever you say, baby!” He says it already knowing that your hunger and all the pet names will only soften you.
“You know what? After today I don’t even have the energy to bicker with you…”
“That bad, huh?”
“The ED was a complete chaos today, apparently all hospitals were swamped, which is why they called more surgeons downstairs to help out. I’ve been on my feet the entire day! I’m basically dead.”
“Dramatic… But I’m sorry you had a shitty day, baby.” He said coming to hug you from behind in your bathroom. Looking at your reflex in the mirror 一 both of you, together like that 一 filled your heart with love and your mind with peace. Harvey was definitely your happy place.
Some time later, after you’d had your dinner, gotten ready for bed, and watched a sappy rom-com you chose, you and Harvey were already cuddling, almost asleep when you heard insistent knocking on the door.
“Stay here, honey, I’ll go see what that’s all about.” You sorta heard Harvey say to you as you lost your personal space heater.
Out in the living, Harvey opened the door only to find his associate Mike Ross standing there looking all tired and disheveled. Before his boss could even say anything, he went ahead entering the apartment mumbling about the case they were currently addressing in the office.
“Harvey, you’re not gonna believe what I found about our not-so-innocent school teacher!” He said to the older man with such energy that sounded like he had had a few too many energetics.
“What the hell, Mike?! Why are you showing up on my doorstep this late at night?”
“Because I knew you’d wanna see this as soon as possible, besides, it’s not like you’d have anything important going here, would you?” Mike asked sorta mocking Harvey.
Ignoring his employee’s last comment, he took the papers Mike was offering and said: “This better be good, Ross, otherwise you’re gonna meet a whole different side of me.
As Harvey started reading all the documents, Mike started having a look around, cause when would he have another chance at taking a peek at his boss’s house like that again? And he couldn’t believe what his eyes were seeing, he would definitely be making a few thousand jokes about it in the near future: there was a romance novel lying on the table, one of those with drawings on the cover that were becoming so popular then.
“Oh my God, Harvey, when were you gonna tell me about your love for reading?” He asked while pointing at the book with his head. 
As Harvey’s eyes emerged from the papers in his hands with a confused look to them, Mike continued: “You know you could have told me, in fact after seeing the kinda genre you like I might actually ask for some recommendations, you know, to get my grandmother a few as presents.” The younger man said already starting to laugh loudly.
“That’s not mine…” Harvey began to answer with his mind still on the documents at hand.
“Oh no? You know there’s no need to lie to me, I promise I’ll try not to judge!”
“Funny. But that’s actually-”
“Mine!” You said as you came out of the bedroom wearing nothing but one of Harvey’s expensive dress shirts. “I don’t think we’ve met yet!” You exclaimed, already extending your hand to shake Mike’s. “I’m (y/n), Harvey’s girlfriend.”
“Girl- g- girlfriend?” Mike looked so shocked he almost choked on his laughter.
“Yes, but it’s doctor (y/l/n) for you.” He answered instinctively moving to your side. “What are you doing out of bed, sweetheart?”
“Sweetheart?” Mike murmured to himself in disbelief of the version of Harvey he was seeing, especially after their argument in the office and the things he’d said to Harvey.
“Well, I assumed it was something work-related when I noticed how long it was taking you to come back and came to drag you back to bed!” You announced to your boyfriend entangling your bodies with certain disregard for the other man standing there in shock.
Only then did Mike notice a framed picture on the sideboard behind him and it displayed both you and Harvey looking at each other with love in your eyes as he carried you bridal style into the water on a beach. Which was another surprise to the young attorney since he didn’t even know that Harvey was a fan of beaches.
“So you’re the famous Mike Ross, then?” You asked, catching his attention again. “You know, it’s very rare for someone to impress Mr. Specter here like you did!”
“Oh, honey, don’t do that, or he’ll spend an entire month finding new ways to subtly bring up in every conversation-”
“Oh, there won’t be anything subtle about it, Mr. Specter,” Mike said mockingly, finally coming out of the shock he had been on. “But I’m curious now, how long have you two been together?”
“About three years, isn’t it, babe?” You answered quickly not paying any mind to the mockery on Mike’s voice.
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“Wow, I never would’ve guessed it. Harvey never talks about you. Like ever.” Mike impolitely announced. “I mean, I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend and it’s been months since we started working together.”
“Well, that sounds about right since we don’t like to display our personal lives at work.” You said nonchalantly.
“But do Jessica and Donna know?”
“Of course they do. Must I remind you that you’re not a Donna or a Jessica, Mike?”
“Ouch. But do Lewis and Rachel know?”
“No, and no. And as interesting as your findings were, it’s time for you to leave. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow at the office.”
“But-”
“Mike. Now!”
“Oh, Harvey, don’t be like that.” 
“He needs to go now and we need to go back to bed, so bye, Mike!” Harvey said while shoving Mike out the door.
And after he was gone, just like in the picture, Harvey picked you up from the floor and started carrying you back to the bedroom.
“Harvey!” You squealed out. But he didn’t mind it as he tossed you on the bed, got on top of you, and started kissing you. Apparently, Mike’s visit had put him in a good mood. And, apparently, it was going to be a long night.                                                                 
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harunovella · 3 months
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*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ love language (verse iii); s.g.
synopsis: a first date with gojo satoru? maybe... or maybe not... content: canon divergence (still teen!gojo era!), fem!reader, hopeless romantic gojo, best bros satoru and suguru bickering as always, gojo has given you a nickname (and I will now claim reader and gojo as "gojo and his mochi"), unimpressed nanami, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: another addition to my gojo anthology series! I'm having sm fun writing these lil things for myself and you all! also... should I start a tag list? lmk in the replies!
"Nanami Kento, Haibara Yu, and," Yaga Masamichi introduced before gesturing in your direction, speaking your name. "You may know the first two already but we've got another sorcerer to the school roster." Continuing his speech towards his three students that sat before him, Suguru and Shoko listened closely, eyeing a brooding Kento and a smiley Yu... while Satoru gazed at you with the biggest heart eyes. He didn't seem to care if he was obvious, after his first interaction with you ever (possibly the best moment of his life), he made it his goal to see you at least once a day. If you were away on missions, or busy during a lecture, he'd find a way to see you... even if it was from afar. "I want you three to mentor them from now on. Each of you teaming up with one of them and spending at least an hour a day to help them boost up their technique—"
"I'll be partnered up with mochi!" Gojo exclaimed, interrupting his teacher with a hand in the air.
"What's the point of raising your hand if you're gonna interrupt anyway?" Geto teased, earning a look from his best friend as he stuck out his tongue.
"Who... is mochi?" Yaga asked, pinching the bridge of his nose, never quite getting used to his white haired student. 
Pointing at you and speaking your name, you stood there with wide eyes and a blush. You weren't new to Gojo's behavior, after you first met him (helping you rescue your now kitten off a tree), you had plenty of... interesting interactions. At first, it was a lot to take in, seeing as he was very eccentric and grew really comfortable with you so easily, but after some time, you grew comfortable with it. With him. However, him calling you one of his favorite treats was a first. "She's cute like a mochi—"
"Oh, god..." Shoko shook her head as Suguru raised his eyebrows.
"That's a first," Yu spoke up, covering his mouth as he couldn't help but chuckle.
"No," the shared teacher spoke. "You will not be paired with her—"
"What! Why not?! We're best friends!" Satoru whined as you looked away with a subtle blush.
"Psht, that's harsh, am I now forgotten?" Suguru crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat. "What if I want to team up with mochi?" The young man smirked, earning a scowl from his best friend.
"Never call her that again," Gojo hissed, earning a laugh from Geto.
"Enough, you two, she will be partnered up with Shoko. Knowing you two, you'd end up getting her hurt somehow," earning a gasp from the two boys, you couldn't help but smile, biting your bottom lip at the way they reacted. "I trust Nanami and Haibara will be fine in either of your care."
"Ugh," Gojo groaned.
"I suppose that's fair," Geto shrugged, earning a shove from Gojo in which he shoved back. "Who are we teamed up with, then?"
"Geto, you'll be paired up with Haibara," hearing a faint cheer come from Yu, Kento only sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Which means Gojo, you'll be paired up with Nanami."
"Well, if I can't have my mochi, I guess Nanamin is fine!" Gojo crossed his arms behind his head. "No offense, Haibara! Nanamin is just great company to tease," he grinned, earning an eye roll from the young, blond man.
"Perfect, today will be your first day. Report back here in an hour. Get to know one another's abilities better." At that, Yaga dismissed the class, Shoko rushing up to you and interlocking arms as she pulled you out with her. You couldn't help but look back at Satoru, seeing his grin towards  Kento turn into a frown as he looked at you. Sending him a small smile and wave, he waved back, happy that he at least got your attention for the time being.
Weeks then passed after Yaga paired everyone off, though it didn't change how things went—specifically missions—Gojo found another reason to see you. At least, another way to see you. Shoko's RCT required her to be in specific places, so he was well aware of where to find you when he wasn't with his own classmates. Nanami, on the occasion, was dragged along. Forced to watch his senior poorly flirt with you when you (shockingly) didn't seem too bothered by it. Instead, it made you flustered. You seemed to have enjoyed Satoru's attention. Of course, it never lasted long with Ieiri kicking both boys out (or just Gojo if he was the only one there) because she was busy being a good mentor and teaching you.
"I'm bored," Satoru whined as he sat on a bench, eyeing Kento as he trained on the open field. "This pairing up thing isn't all that fun."
"That's because you're not doing your job as my senior," Nanami spoke with a lack of enthusiasm.
"What's there to teach you? You're good as it is," he waved a hand as he sipped at his milk box. "I just wanna see my mochi..."
Sighing, Nanami shook his head before lifting it from his palm as he massaged his temples. A faint smile grew on his lips at the sight of you approaching, it seemed as if Shoko had lead the way before parting to go on her own route. You waved happily as he waved back, only to look at his senior to see that he hadn't noticed you. Grinning, Nanami quietly made his way towards you, his fellow classmate. To anyones shock, the two of you actually grew close. You saw one another like siblings, getting along quite well and actually maintaining interesting conversations. No one would've figured, he was a quiet boy and only really spoke when spoken to, but you brought something out of him. You always found something to speak about. Maybe it was your shared love for baked goods, or the possibility that you weren't annoying like most of the people around him. You were timid, but you were also very kind and social with those you were comfortable with. "How'd it go today?"
"Good, Shoko is very skilled, it's a shame we don't focus much on her technique. RCT is very important, no one does it like her." Smiling up at him as the two of you bumped fists, you then peeked over to Satoru, who was now lying on the bench, completely unaware of your presence. "Is he okay?"
"Being lazy as always," Nanami shrugged, but you slightly frowned. "Don't worry about it."
"What are you two babbling about?!" Gojo called out, not realizing who he had been yelling at. 
"I'll catch you later..." the blond said before patting your head, then walking away.
"Hey, I asked you a—" Sitting up and realizing who he had been yelling at, Gojo's eyes widened as he gulped. "Mochi!"
"Hi, Satoru," you greeted with a kind smile, causing him to blush. "Long day?"
Instantly standing up, nearly tripping over his own feet, he shook his head. "No! I was just... taking a break! Y'know... training others can be so tiring," he frowned while slumping forward as you let out a small laugh. "Especially someone as skilled as Nanamin!"
"Right," You nodded. "I hadn't seen you all day. I was thinking..."
Blinking a few times as he watched you approach, Gojo gulped, "yeah?"
"We should get an early dinner—"
"Now?" His eyes widen as he stood straight, earning another laugh from you.
"Mhm, or later, whatever you prefer—"
"Now! Now is good," He nodded, meeting you halfway before he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "I know the perfect place! Plus, right next door, they sell some delicious mochi..." He grinned as you smiled up at him.
"Is this our first date?" Gojo teased as you sat on a bench, sharing a box of mochi. The dinner was as great as he had promised, a cute little restaurant that Gojo frequented. Satoru tried his best to impress you with his cooking skills, only to burn half of what he ordered. You couldn't help but laugh it off, deciding to cook the rest—in which he praised your skills (and promised to improve his own for the next time). For someone trying to do some impressing, he's constantly teetering between being shy and letting his confidence kick in (even if it was false, trying to win you over).
"Hmm, I was the one who asked to go to dinner," you said, biting into your mochi. "Shouldn't I decide that?"
"Wait!" Gojo lifted his hands, pulling the box of mochi away as you tilted your head. "I took us here to get our dessert," he nudged his head back, towards the stand. 
"So..." you trailed. 
"So... this could be our first date!" He beamed, earning a look from you as you playfully lifted an eyebrow.
"Maybe."
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giuliettagaltieri · 4 months
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Swarm of Bees
Pairing: Fiancé!Gojō x Fiancée!Reader
Chapter Synopsis: Gojō Satoru gets a taste of his own medicine.
Warning: angst, arranged marriage, age gap, hints of dacryphilia, Gojō is a bully at heart.
Word Count: 1596
3 of 9
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There are many things that Gojō Satoru hates.
One, the higher ups of the jujutsu society.
Two, when people say “No offense, but…” And proceed to insult him.
Three, people who get in his way.
And four, when he is not getting the attention he deserves.
In the past few years, Gojō has been working as a teacher in the Jujutsu High.  He still leaves for missions, it was only expected as he is the strongest sorcerer.  But he stays in the school quite often compared to when he was a field sorcerer.
And quite frankly, he expected more visits from a certain someone.
But he never got them anymore.
Shoko would often put out her cigarette to drop her face on her palms whenever Gojō talks about this.  And he cannot understand why she does that.
From time to time, he receives gifts from you.  But no more letters.  Nothing that adds a personal touch from you.  Just food.  As if you’re sending them so he won’t forget you existed.
But if he were to be asked, forgetting you was impossible as your time to be wedded comes closer and closer.
And now, you are celebrating your 20th naming day.
You turned into a beautiful young lady.  Truly worthy of him. 
But much to his aggravation, it seems like many took notice of your change too.
Men from different clans were hovering over you. 
Greeting you, complimenting you about the simplest of things.  It made something inside him itch and it bothered him to no end.
They only liked you now because you turned out to be a well-polished woman.  They did not see you with snot on your nose as you wailed after scraping your knee, which he absolutely had no involvement whatsoever or when your face bubbled like a squirrel when you did not get your way.
“You’re pouting.”  Shoko comments as she sips on her glass of champagne.
The celebration was at its peak.  The musical ensemble was playing a lively tune and gossips and giggles were filling the floral air of your estate house.
And you, the center of the event.
Almost every pair of eyes were on you.
Gone was the shy little lady of your house.  You are now a woman who is ready to take her first steps into society.  You were like a fresh fruit, ripe for the taking.  Had it not been for Gojō’s presence, many insolent men would have asked, no, begged for your hand right then.
Your hair glittered with every turn of your head.  Your painted lips curving up to a perfect smile whenever a gentleman compliments you.  Yet the innocent smile is always paired with the haughty spark in your eyes as you decline their offer to dance.
It was the fourth time that you declined an offer in the same hour.
And Gojō Satoru cannot stand to watch such blatant disrespect any longer.
Both Shoko and Nanami follow him with their watching eyes as he makes his way to you.  Their feet are ready to move as soon as the man makes a fool of himself or starts a fit in the middle of your perfect evening.  Or both.
They were at the edge of their seats when Gojō clears his throat to catch your attention.  The two of them watch very closely for any sudden movement from any of you.
But like fluid from the most graceful of waterfalls, you rise from your seat, standing on the tip of your toes to lean on Gojō’s chest.
All breaths halted at your action, including the man you were smiling up to.  His crystalline blue eyes watching you, almost calculating your every move.  But you smile slyly at him as your fingers trace his jaw and your lips find his cheek.
“I am delighted to see you.  But I am terribly sorry Gojō-sama, I would have to decline.”  Your thumb caresses his cold cheek.  “My dance card is full for the evening.”
Like a nymph, you slide away from him to accept the hand of a young man who was waiting for you.  And Gojō can only watch as you are being guided to the center of the floor.  
And you danced so beautifully.
The itch turned into a burn.  And Gojō had to sit the entire evening with such sensation nesting in his chest, almost clawing out into a form of aggression.
Whenever your dance partner spins you or their gloved hands wander closely to your bottom, Gojō has to quell the urge to pummel them to the ground.  He did not quite understand the urge to do so.  But after having the feeling for the rest of the night, he has come to terms with it.  Given up on trying to understand the impulse and just settled with the idea that every man who speaks with you is disrespecting him.
And you.
Oh, he is so cross with you.
How dare you fill in your dance card without reserving even a single dance for him.  Have you forgotten that you are betrothed to him?  Or do you just fancy the little game you are playing?  Acting as if he is not around.
The clock hand tells that the night was no longer young.  But you were still being twirled around in the middle of the dance hall.  It was your final dance for the evening.  And by the slight delay in your steps, he is well aware that you are exhausted from dancing for hours.
By the time the last note travels through the air, Gojō was already on his feet and marching towards you. 
You took no notice of course as you were smiling brightly at your dance partner as he bowed to place a kiss on your gloved hand.
But before his lips could touch you, Gojō Satoru unceremoniously grabs you by your midriff and carries you like a mannequin being set up for display.
Your startled squeal catches the attention of every person in the room and they watch as you wrap your arms around your fiancé’s neck in panic.
As the man carries you and disappears behind the doors to your garden, the chatter resumes but now, soft smiles are gracing the lips of every attendee.
They have been granted the front row seats to watch your game of push and pull with the strongest sorcerer.  Some of them have been watching ever since before you learned to walk.
It brought them great joy to see the man finally taking an action to claim you as his woman.
You, on the other hand, have your heart beating wildly on your chest.
Have you pushed too far?
Has your act of refusing his offer to dance been too much of a blow to his pride?
When Gojō places you down, you also pull your arms back to your sides.  You do not want to meet his eyes.  No, not at all.
“Sit.”
You still instinctively look up at him though.  “Huh?”
He gestures to the bench behind you.  “I said, sit.”
Immediately, you pull at your dress to smoothen the fabric as you sit down.  You did not appreciate how the act made you even smaller compared to his full height.
Your fingers twiddle with each other to release some of the budding nervousness in your chest.
“I-I am terribly sorry if I upset you, Gojō-sama.”  You stammer.
There you are.
A smirk finds itself on Gojō's lips.  You haven’t changed one bit.  You were only brave when there were other people around but you are the same shy little girl that he knew the moment you were alone.
He kneels before you to look you in the eye.  “Upset me? Whatever do you mean, my love?”  His tone was dark and dangerous despite him smiling playfully at you. 
You wanted to cry.
And his smile widens when your eyes turn glassy just as your lips wobble.
He just watched your suffering, willing yourself to hold back the tears.  Just as you thought you'd break, he clicks his tongue and digs through the poof of your gown to take off your sandals.
And as he expected, blisters covered your dainty feet.
“How were you dancing so beautifully with such discomfort.”  He says with his voice grim.
You can only watch him as his hands work on healing your wounds.
At times like this, you feel the safest.  As if nothing in the world could harm you.
And without much thinking, your hands cup his cheek.  And Gojō looks at you with still a tiny frown by his eyebrows.
“Are you upset with me?”  You ask with your voice barely above a whisper.
“That depends.  Are you done with your ruse?”  He cocks an eyebrow and you nod shyly.  “Then we’re good.”
“Will you dance with me now?” 
When you smile at him so softly, how can he say no?
But to your surprise, the man grabs you by your waist, lifts you up until your now healed feet are stepping on his shoes.
You hastily tried to get off but he tightens his hold on your waist.
“Stay.”
It was a simple command but you find yourself surrendering all that you are to him.
Your hands find themselves resting atop his shoulders and with the echoes of the music spilling to the dim garden, Gojō Satoru makes you feel as if you too were honored throughout heaven and earth, simply because he had you in his arms and he was swaying you to the faintest of melodies.
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Where the Blue Roses Grow
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th3secr3th1story · 11 months
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gojo and geto when you don't say "i love you" back
biggest losers ever
gojo
"baby, i'll see you soon, ok? don't miss me too much," gojo whined, attached to your hip as you rubbed his back.
he was assigned a mission somewhere in rural japan and likely wouldn't be back for a couple days, which was especially hard for the both of you seeing that you were never separated for more than 12 hours. (you and gojo were typically assigned to missions together, but this one wasn't a special-grade curse so it was only given to him. what a loser.)
"i should go," he sighed into your shoulder. "don't cheat, call me every day, don't start any new shows, don't go out, don't let anyone talk to you, buy tons of sweets for me, annoy megumi, punch nanami for me, don't for-"
"'toru! it's just a few days, i'll see you soon. just be careful, ok?" you giggled.
he (begrudgingly) removed himself from you, turning towards the door with a massive pout.
"alright, baby, i love you," he grouched.
"stay safe, 'toru! bring me back souvenirs," you smiled, waving at him.
except he didn't leave. he stood there, grinning at you expectantly, one hand on his mini suitcase and another on the doorknob.
when you simply kept waving at him, confused, his smile dropped.
"okay, fine. i guess i won't come home then," he said with a pout, glaring at you.
"huh?! what are you talking about?"
"well, since you clearly just want me to kill myself because you don't love me anymore, i guess i'll find someone else to marry," he sniffed.
"stop playing around, 'toru. you know i love you."
and just like that, gojo satoru was grinning like an idiot.
"okay, sweets, see you soon!"
and just like that, gojo satoru was out the door.
geto
the two of you were currently coddled up in your bed, you on top of geto as he massaged your scalp.
you weren't sure how long you both had been laying there, but neither of you wanted to move.
geto listened to you talk about your day, mainly filled with complaints about gojo and his weird behaviors.
you were currently telling him how itadori pranked fushiguro earlier that day in your class, barely able to suppress your giggles.
"-and then he put a fake spider on his shoulder. i swear, when fushiguro saw it i thought he was going to cry. it's so hard being a teacher sometimes, i forget that i can't laugh at the students."
geto chuckled lightly at the story as he listened to how happy you sounded retelling jujutsu high's antics.
once you finished, the two of you laid there in silence, simply enjoying each other's presence.
"you know i love you, right? you're the most important person in my life, y/n," he said softly.
you simply sighed and kissed his neck, happy to be in geto's embrace. but after a few seconds the head massaging stopped.
you whined and looked up to see why he paused. you were met with his dead stare.
"why'd you stop?" you asked, confused.
"'cause you don't appreciate me," he teased.
"no! you're my favorite man ever. i love you so much, suguru," you wailed, pressing his hand back on your head.
"man?"
"fine. you're my favorite person ever."
"person?"
"you're my favorite...organism ever?"
"that'll do, i guess," he mumbled, smiling.
geto resumed his ministrations and slowly lulled you to sleep with his light humming of a song gojo couldn't stop singing earlier that day.
(it only sounds good when it comes from him. no offense, gojo.)
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mikaswannabe · 1 year
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OVERACHIEVING MOUTH
— ❣︎✰︎☮︎ — "let's see how else you can use this overachieving mouth." — ☮︎✰︎❣︎ —
IN WHICH a class project brings two senior students together as an unlikely pair.
content includes: hotnerd!reader, studypartner!eren, athlete!eren, enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, possessiveness, slow burn but not too slow, small bit of angst, dom!eren, fingering, a lot of penetration, cunnilingus, slight breeding kink.
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"I've done a randomization on who will work with who on this project, so that conflicts will be less likely."
When your film teacher gave that disclaimer, your eyes instantly widened. You don't talk to anybody in this period anymore, and she was likely enforcing this because of you.
With the last project, you allowed a girl who you got along with in this class to work with you, but you found out that she was an inconsiderate freeloader, so yes you gave her a piece of your mind! Maybe you blew it out of proportion, but you couldn't see any wrong in it.
But now this was the outcome, and you were wishing you were calmer about it now. Your teacher went over to her laptop, and on the board, she showed the pairings.
Some people hit a 777, but meanwhile, you were thinking that this lottery was a scam, because how the hell did you get Eren Jaeger?!
You're a girl at the top of your class, most of your grades being in the triple digits and you had already accepted a full-ride scholarship to an prestigious college three hours out of the city. It's your senior year, and this was just one of your electives, but you liked this class, and you like to give everything your all.
So how could the stars have possibly aligned you with Eren? This pretty-boy athlete. You've had a few other classes with him in these 4 years, but never a conversation. You just recognized that his handsome face only pops up in these classes every once in a blue moon.
He was sitting on the opposite side of the room from you. Your head was leaning on your hand, and you glanced over to him from across the classroom. He always sat with his legs spread. Slutty and Obnoxious. He was sitting up straight in his chair with his arms crossed, and then you saw those dark hues of green in his eyes go to you. That's when you looked away, looking down at your phone as if something super interesting was going on in it.
People started to move around to go sit with their partners, so he took the liberty to come up to you. Huge feet made their way under your vision, so that's when you looked up from your phone. Looking through your rectangle frames, you saw his stoic face looking down at you, his hands in his pockets and his crotch uncomfortably near your face.
"Hey."
That deep voice is what you're gonna have to tolerate until the due date next week. But not if you could help it.
"Excuse me." You stood up and moved past him. You went over to Miss Sullivan's desk, and she slowly turned her head to acknowledge you after you said her name. She knew that it was always most likely to be bullshit coming out of your overachieving mouth.
"Yes?"
"Is it alright if I work alone?"
She glanced over to your desk, where Eren had pulled a chair up and sat on the side of it. Then, those judgy eyes moved back over to you. "Go sit down, Miss Johnson."
Your mouth fell open in offense, but you wiped your arrogant expression off. "Can I go use the bathroom, though?"
She picked up a pre-written pass and handed it to you between two fingers. You really did have to pee, and you also just needed a minute to cope.
When you got back, you guys — particularly you — spent the rest of that period organizing what to do with the project. He recognized that you just kept talking, and talking, and talking. He felt like his head was spinning.
"How do you even know so much stuff?"
The fact that he practically cut you off irritated you. "Hm?"
"Like, how could you pay attention to the movie this much? I fell asleep on it."
It was a crime-based movie. It kept you probed. You weren't surprised that he fell asleep though. "It was interesting."
You were a very pretty girl, makeup always on point and displaying personality, even though you had a mysterious aura surrounding you since you didn't talk to too many people here. You had a nose stud and a septum, and the blue evil eye charm layered over your other necklaces stood out. Your locs were platinum blond at the top and went to being hot pink at the bottom, and your bold hairstyles always struck you a compliment that you would smile and give a soft thanks to.
All of this, and no one would think you were such a nerd. Even with your cute glasses.
"Hm. Well, at least I'll see you in homeroom. Can we rewatch it in there?"
Eren Jaeger. Y/N Johnson. It's been four years that you've had to be in a homeroom with him because of how your last names are matched up. But still, to his response, all you could think of was Who is we? "Um..."
You had tightened your lips, but he needed them open so he could get an answer. "What's wrong?"
You scratched the back of your head, "You can't just research it on your own time?"
"You know so much about it though. It would be really helpful."
Was he trying to butter you up? You were really just trying to get this 100. "Uh-"
"Oh, bell rings in 5 minutes." He closed his Chromebook that he had barely been doing work on and put it in his bag. "I'll see you later."
He picked up his bag and walked back over to his seat, just as everyone else who had rearranged did under Miss Sullivan instructions.
You spent the next period dreading what was gonna be after it. Your homeroom took place in the theater. The drama teacher was your homeroom teacher, so after he would call roll, everyone would go to doing their own thing.
You took your usual seat at the end of a row, about 10 rows away from the stage with your bookbag in the seat next to you. Everyone else was usually spaced out, and there were small clusters of groups getting along in their own areas.
For example, the white boys would always banter on the stage, either playing with the props, doing something else foolish, or just laying there talking or on their phones.
Eren was always a part of this group, but after the roll was called today, he easily hopped off of the stage with those long legs of his and moseyed his way on over to you.
Instead of just saying excuse me like a regular human being, he walked over the seat in the row in front of your bookbag's seat, forcing you to look up from your phone at this bizarre act. When he completed that step, he moved your bookbag onto the floor and sat down.
"Hey."
You didn't say anything, just staring at him. He took the liberty to start again. "So, I left my Chromebook up there. Hope yours is charged."
You gave him a few slow blinks, and then you reached past his knee to unzip your bag and take the laptop out. Of course it was charged. You started typing into your browser, but he was confused. "What streaming service are we gonna watch it on?"
This was the third sentence he's said, and this one was gonna be the first to incite a response out of you...
Or was it? Why the fuck were you taking so long to open that overachieving mouth and give him an answer?
"I was just gonna try Soap2Day." Your voice was small and shy, even though he had a feeling you were far from shy. He just wanted to get it out of you, though.
"What's that?"
He saw the website you stated as you pulled it up on the computer, and you began typing in the name of the movie that was the subject of the presentation.
"Ohhh, you bootleg shit. Cool. I'm gonna use this."
When you pulled up the movie tab, there was porn on the side of the screen, and he held in a laugh as you rushed to put the videoplayer in full-screen.
Five minutes into the movie, he was engrossed, but you couldn't tell with how he made the move to put his arm around your shoulder. Even though you were shutting that shit down real quick, he savored the feeling of your soft hand on his when you grabbed him and gently put his arm back where it belonged.
"No?" He asked to confirm his rejection.
"No." You repeated.
He was actually interested in the movie, and he kept pausing it and asking you questions. "So you're telling me she pushed her friend off the bridge? Why?"
If he watched the first time, he would know why. But his entertainment was amusing. "Just keep watching."
About 30 minutes into watching, Eren was completely focused. Then, a certain buzzcut boy made his way down the walkway to you two. "Yo, Jaeger!"
Connie Springer. Don't know why the fuck he was in here, but he was here. You weren't complaining, though. His attractiveness was something you couldn't deny. Sexy ass Columbian basketball player with undeniable charm and a pretty ass smile. You had your head rested on your hand, watching him in adoration as Eren paused the movie to dap his homeboy up.
"What's up, Con. You skipping again?"
"I don't know what you're talking about. I was never even here, bro. What y'all over here doing, though?"
"We got paired together for a project in film, so I forced her to stay with me to watch the movie again."
Connie laughed. "Working with him hasn't killed you yet, huh Y/N?"
It's been four years that you've been around this man and you haven't had any significant interaction with him. So you grinned when you heard that he knew your name. "It's probably coming soon."
Eren gave a nasty sneer. He's been bending over backwards all day to try to get along with you, but how come you showed that pretty smile to Connie before you could show it to him?
"Whatever. Connie you don't have anywhere else you could be that doesn't involve bullying me?"
Connie's face showed shock to Eren's audacity, "I'm a bully? Tuh. Actually, my next stop is the snack lady, and I'ma go bully my way into a free honeybun."
He dapped Eren up one more time, "See you at practice." Directing a smile to you, he waved and began to walk away.
You thought it would be best to go straight back to the movie, and that's why you directed your hand towards the space bar, but Eren had something to offer. "You wanna go to the snack lady with me? I'm hungry."
"I have food." You moved your laptop off of your lap and onto his. Partially leaning over his knee again, you pulled a purple bag of sweet and salty flavored popcorn out of your bag.
Crazy. You had other things in your bag besides books. He put his hand out, but you just gave him a side eye and looked back at the computer, pressing play before putting a handful in your mouth.
He was looking at you in disbelief, and it was 30 seconds of his glare poking through the side of your head, but you continued to stoically watch the movie. That was until he smashed the space bar. You slowly turned your head to have your eyes on him.
"Why do you hate me? Seriously, have I done something to you that I don't remember, or what?"
Now you kind of felt bad. "You just seem like bad news."
"How? You don't even know me like that. And you're not even trying to get to know anything good about me. Meanwhile, I'm ready to tear my head off from tolerating your stingy ass all morning."
Your mouth fell open in offense. "If you wanna tear your head off, do it. I wanna do it since I'm paired with you. You just don't seem like the type to commit to an assignment the way that I do."
"Once again: You don't know me. And I gotta admit, you're probably right. I'm not as much of a nerd as you."
You showed offense to the term he used as if he wasn't accurate. "What? I don't mean it offensively. You're like, really smart. I just have a lot of other things to focus on. Sports are more fun than fuckass assignments to me, but I do try to get it done."
"Football season's been over." You stated. With this fact, sports couldn't have had him too busy.
But he was ready to disprove you. "I do baseball and track, too. Since you know every fucking thing."
Your mouth fell open. Maybe you did overstep. "Sorry then... What do you do in track?"
You didn't know anything about baseball, but track & field was interesting to watch. "Long jump, pole vault, long distance, and sprints."
He saw your eyes round with intrigue. "Are you any good?"
You saw the corner of his mouth pull up in a curve. "Come to my track meet tomorrow and find out."
Your glossy lips poked out in decision. "Hmm."
"Come on. After, I can take you back to my house and we can work on the project."
That's where you were out. "Umm, I don't even know you like that."
"Yeah, and that's the problem."
"My mom don't even know your mom or nothing."
"You're 18, right?" You nodded to his question. "And you still have to ask your mom to go places after school?"
He's made your mouth fall open so much in offense that you're surprised a bug hasn't flown in it. You picked up your phone and started typing.
you mama this boy asked me to hangout with him after school tomorrow.
mama dearest Thank God. 🙏
you ???
i don't even know him like that though.
mama dearest If you could tolerate talking to him long enough where he got to the point of asking you out, then get to know him like that.
you omg????
say no!!!!
mama dearest I'll say no to you asking me to say no. 🤷‍♀️
you mama?!!!
what if i'm out having sex doing drugs robbing cars?
mama dearest You a punk!!!
you PLEASE
mama dearest Live outside of academics for a minute please.
In fact, if you come home before sundown today I'm taking your keys away.
you i rode the bus today anyway!!! look in the driveway she broke down again hater 😪
Eren was looking all in your phone, laughing mad hard. "Our mom's funny as fuck, huh?"
You hit his obnoxious ass on his shoulder. "Shut up."
"So, where you wanna meet up after school?"
"Who said I was agreeing?"
"Don't go sit in a library until sundown like the nerd you are."
You pouted, "I was gonna go to Chick-Fil-A, actually."
"If you don't wanna tell me where you'll be at, that's fine. I'm gonna track you down though."
"You scaring me. This why I didn't wanna be around you."
His grinning teeth showed as he looked at you, "Not my fault you're doing this the hard way."
You rolled your eyes, "Meet me at 500 hall's exit 10 minutes after the bell, then."
"The one that goes out towards the bus ramp?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. You should give me your number, in case things get mixed up."
Your eyelashes went up, then down, and every time they did that, he would still be looking at you as serious as ever. Instead of letting those sassy lips say something that would piss him off, he just snatched your phone and swiped to the right of your lockscreen. You tried to reach for your phone back, but he was snapping pictures of him and you, even if it was chaotic as he posed and you hid your face and struggled.
"Boom. Now you got a nice selection for a contact picture. You gotta get my number first though."
"Not happening."
He nodded his head as if he was accepting defeat, but then he directed your phone towards your face with reflexes of a cheetah. "Too bad you're not smart enough to close your eyes." Now your phone was unlocked and you were practically at his mercy.
"What is wrong with you? Why are you going through my phone? What if you find something you don't wanna see?"
Your phone was Hello Kitty themed, and he had to make his way through the pink ocean to get to the phone app. "I'm just trying to put my number in your phone. I feel like in here I'll only find the cure to cancer, or a text from your boyfriend or something."
"Who told you I had a boyfriend?"
He shrugged, "I was just assuming. Smart, pretty, sassy as fuck. Somebody must be crawling after you."
He called you pretty? "...No, I don't fool with nobody like that."
Either you were bullshitting, or you saw him smirk a little as he heard that. He typed his contact name in as "bestieboo eren" with a plethora of hearts and outrageous emojis behind it.
"Eren, please."
"Don't change it, either."
Who did this white man think he was telling you what to do like this? "Or what?"
"Or I'll show you how it is when I'm really scaring someone." He handed your phone back to you, his green eyes staring into you with a layer of cockiness over his face. You took it while your gaze swirled into his. "Got it?"
This was the first time he got a smirk out of you, and your eyes narrowed as you answered him with, "Okay then."
You picked your laptop back up and woke it up from its nap of inactivity, and then you two resumed the movie. He laid his head on your shoulder like he was slick. You pushed his head away, but he laughed and kept his head near. "Come on, let me lay down. The computer's on your lap. It makes everything easier for me."
You just rolled your eyes and complied, and he laid down as he continued to watch, even eating some of the popcorn that you had a change of heart over.
During your last period, he texted you.
bestieboo eren 💕💕🫦🫦🫶🏾🫶🏾😚😚 hi best friend
you please
bestieboo eren 💕💕🫦🫦🫶🏾🫶🏾😚😚 already begging for me i knew it was real
you what the hell do you need?
bestieboo eren 💕💕🫦🫦🫶🏾🫶🏾😚😚 sorry to interrupt you during ur very important class
but i just remembered
i have practice after school
so i can't meet up w you immediately
you thank goodness. 🙏🏾
bestieboo eren 💕💕🫦🫦🫶🏾🫶🏾😚😚 tf you think this is
you're not getting away from me that easily bestie
you 😧
bestieboo eren 💕💕🫦🫦🫶🏾🫶🏾😚😚 u could send me ur addy and i'll pick u up after i'm out
you absolutely not.
bestieboo eren 💕💕🫦🫦🫶🏾🫶🏾😚😚 or u could wait for me here until i get out of practice
you BAHHAA ur hilarious.😭
bestieboo eren 💕💕🫦🫦🫶🏾🫶🏾😚😚 i don't want u riding that dingy ass bus tho
just wait for me stink
you i am not tems no waiting will be done.
how about we dead this me going over to your house idea.
bestieboo eren 💕💕🫦🫦🫶🏾🫶🏾😚😚 here u go again being negative
now i gotta go back to square one
you ?
bestieboo eren 💕💕🫦🫦🫶🏾🫶🏾😚😚 tracking u tf down
you sir???
scary ass individual.
bestieboo eren 💕💕🫦🫦🫶🏾🫶🏾😚😚 yeah ik where you are right now be prepared to see me
you be prepared to NOT see me tf. bye.
bestieboo eren 💕💕🫦🫦🫶🏾🫶🏾😚😚 no byes see u in 15 minutes
You were the first one to walk out your classroom door, so that means that everyone else behind you saw when you got snatched by your arm from the side of the door. Eren was your abductor. He was really serious about it, and now he had his hand on your lower back and a grip around your wrist as he led you away.
"Eren, let me go!" You didn't like causing a scene, but the halls were already crowded and loud with people as soon as the bell rang.
He didn't give you a response, but you could feel the amusement radiating off him. He dragged you to a hall that led to the office. People were still walking through it, but it was much clearer than the hall you two came from.
"What is wrong with you?!" You reprimanded as you snatched yourself away from his grasp.
"Hey. How's your day been without me?" With a smile on his face, he was acting so casual as if he didn't just manhandle you.
"Bye. My bus is first wave."
When you tried to walk away, he snatched your bookbag and easily pulled you back to him. "Let me get this off of you."
You must've softened up, because you allowed him to take your bag off of your shoulders. "How did you know where I was?"
"Your friend Ashyra was in my class. I don't know how she feels about me taking her best friend position, but she'll be okay."
You were instantly ready to beat your actual best friend's ass seeing as she reported your location to this opp. "Eren, I don't wanna stay after school. Why would I wanna be here any longer than I already am?"
"To stay with your best friend, duh."
Not a smile grazed your face as you tilted your head to the side. He tilted his back with sass to match your energy. No matter how bad you thought you could intimidate him, he was gonna double back.
"Whatever. I'll walk to the café across the street, since you want me here so bad."
"And do. If you wanna get something, I'll Venmo you."
"No, you don't have to do that."
"Well I don't have cash on me right now, so that's the only way this'll work."
"Well I kind of didn't ask for money anyway."
"Nevermind on Venmo, accept the Apple Pay I just sent you."
"White boy, stop treating me like a charity case."
"What? I'm not. You're changing your schedule and staying after school just because of me. This is the least I could do. It's just $15. Text me when you get over there, or I'ma blow up your phone, alright?"
You didn't respond, but you had a smirk on as you grabbed your bag back from him turned around. He grabbed your hand and spun you back, "You deaf? Text me when you get over there."
"Eren, okaaay. I will."
"Okay, can I get a hug?"
You laughed, "See you in an hour."
"Come on, I'm gonna get a hug out of you today. Would you rather it be now, or after practice when I'm all sweaty and gross?"
"Never-"
"Isn't an option. Come here, mama."
He knew that when you rolled your eyes, he got you. Usually you would roll your eyes or give him a smirk, one or the other, separate not together. This time he got both as he pulled you in, swinging you side to side as your arms wrapped around his firm and fit torso.
"Okay, I'll see you later, Eren."
"Yeah, see you later."
One thing you learned about Eren today is that he was gonna stand behind his words. He really did blow up your phone 15 minutes later! It took a five minute phone call for you to get him to shut up, and at 4:45, he called you again and told you he was driving over.
He found you sitting in a booth at the McDonald's. Your laptop was open in front of you but you were on your phone.
"You texting somebody that's not me?"
"Or me?"
Two separate voices that both know how to grind your gears. You looked up to see Eren sliding into the booth with your best friend Ashyra sliding in on the other side of him. "Not both of y'all here to torcher me."
"You finally met my favorite white boy! Didn't I tell you he cool people?"
"Yeah, but I been knew you was a liar, too, Shy."
Her mouth fell open, and then an order came out. "Eren, kick her."
You shrieked as you tried to avoid his gruesome, manly feet, but he got your ass. "Ow! I hate that y'all know each other. Y'all are gonna make my life hell."
"You know it. Did you get anything?"
"Nah."
Fed up with you, he rolled his eyes with a "Stand up."
Ashyra got up and allowed him to get up too, but you were still sitting there. "What?"
"What do you want? A cookie? Fries?"
"She has a sweet tooth. Can you get me a caramel frappe?"
"Bet."
"Shy." You called reprimandingly.
"What? He's offering, I'm taking. You smart, but that's something else you can learn."
Eren leaned down, his hand placed on the table. You didn't expect it, and that's why you were looking so directly at him when his face got closer to yours. "What do you want me to get you?"
His voice was so much calmer than it's been before, but it was still commanding. "Can you get me a cookie... and a McFlurry."
"Oreo?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. You wanna stand in line with us?"
"No, I'ma stay right here and pack my bag."
His face lifted from yours, and you allowed yourself to breathe again. "Okay."
For him to have been fresh out of practice, he didn't smell bad. It was a natural musk. Did he hit the showers before he came over here? You would hope so. You're gonna be in a whole car ride with him.
You were thinking all of this through as you put your laptop and binder in your bag, but then, you recognized. You were thinking. About a different person. A boy, at that. You tried to just abort from that, but your homegirl came over ready to put it back in your mind.
"So, you gon' fuck him?"
Chin propped up on her hands, her nosey ass had a cheesy grin on as she looked at you.
"Girl, no. What is wrong with you?"
"What's wrong with you? You playin' hard to get with that fine ass boy. He cheesin' you up, paying for your stuff. Be nicer to him, please."
"I'm really just tryna get a good grade."
"Fuck a good grade. Get a D, for once."
Your mouth fell open, and you kicked her from under the table. Then, Eren came over, holding the frappe and an ice cream cone both in one hand, with four bags with individual cookies in the other hand. He put the cookies down in front of you, grabbing one bag and passing it to 'Shy, and keeping one for himself.
"Thank you."
"No problem."
"Oop, my brother outside. I gotta go before he start honking." Shy said as she picked up her bags.
"Okay, I'll go say hi to him." When you got up, you tried to pick up your own bag, but Eren did that instead. You and Eren waved to Ashyra's brother as she got in his car that had music blasting out of it, and then he walked you to his dark grey Silverado.
In the car ride, you and Eren didn't talk much. His music just played, and if you knew a song, you would tap your foot and keep looking out the window as he hummed. He would speak, and you would respond, but you didn't initiate any of the conversations.
In a gated community is when you knew that the ride was coming closer to an end. Every house looked similar to the one next to it, and they all looked spacious and nice. Just like his. He pulled into one of the spots of his three car garage, and then he got out and opened the door for you. Even with holding his sports bag and his own bookbag, he still put in the effort to hold yours.
"Where's your parents?" You questioned, looking around the nicely decorated suburban home when you got inside. He took his shoes off by the door, and you followed.
"Dad's at work."
He was about to walk up the stairs, but you stayed right where you stood, "W-Wait. We're going to your bedroom?"
He sighed, and then he descended from the two stairs he walked up and went over to the dining room. He flicked the light switch up, but nothing changed in the scenery. "Last light bulb went out last night. He's going to get a new box after he gets off."
"Oh, what about your couch, though?"
"My room has a desk. I thought it would be in your nerd rulebook to have good posture when you work."
He saw you considering your dilemma as he walked closer to you. "You still scared of me, or what?"
His deep and husky voice intimidated you, but you wouldn't admit that. You didn't even wanna show it, so you straightened your posture and tried to show a brave face. "I'm not scared."
"Really? 'Cause you've been shaking like a leaf, tough girl."
He was towering over you, so he had a clear view of your two-toned lips falling apart in offense and your eyes narrowing. He laughed, "I'm kidding with you. We can work on the couch."
"No. We can go up to your room."
"Nah, better TV view. I gotta finish watching the movie, anyway." He put all the bags down behind the couch, and made way to the kitchen, "Get comfortable. You want snacks? I'm nicer than you, so I actually plan on sharing."
A scoff left your mouth, "Sure."
He was on one couch cushion, you were on the one next to him. A good amount of space was between you two, and he was still invested in this movie as he munched on some Sour Patch Kids.
Meanwhile, you were struggling to keep your head up and your eyes open. He gave you some chips, but the bag was tilting in your hands, going the same way that your head was going. Down.
It was when the chips started spilling that you jumped up, making even more chips fly out the bag. It made Eren jump too. "Shit, are you alright? You can't do stuff like that when we're watching a thriller."
You started picking the chips up, "Yeah, my bad."
"Oh, are you tired?" Eren paused the movie, and he put a hand out to stop you from picking up the chips, taking that task for his own. "Grab that pillow. Lay down if you're sleepy."
You shook your head, "No, I'm okay. Thank you, though."
He stopped moving, and you saw him looking at you with an unenthusiastic straight face. "Stop that."
"Stop what?"
"You know what I'm talking about." He said as he continued picking up the chips, "You wanna lay on me instead?"
You didn't respond, even though you wanted to say something. A hum, a one-word answer —anything would suffice. But you couldn't get anything out. He put the bag to the side of him when he finished cleaning up your mess, and then he put his arm around your shoulders. "Come on."
You were on auto-pilot, and you leaned into him, winding up with your head on his lap and his hand on your back, slowly rubbing it up and down. It was so soothing to hear his heartbeat as you dozed off, and when you woke back up, Eren was patting you on your back and calling your name softly.
"Yeah? Did you finish the movie?" Your hazy voice questioned as you sat up, moving your glasses to rub your eyes. You saw that the sun was barely lighting the sky anymore through the windows.
"I did. It pissed me off."
You grinned, "Yeah, it pissed me off too. But it was good though."
"Yeah, the ending was a really big plot twist." You and Eren continued to talk about the movie, until your mouth opened and nothing came out since the sound of the door opening paused you.
A matured man with round glasses, stubble, and his straight brown hair neatly running down his back came in. "What's up, Dad?" Eren called.
"Hey, Eren. How was your day?"
"It was nice."
Grisha walked through the foyer, and he saw you sitting next to his son when he entered the living room. You could see the shock on his face to the sight of an unexpected guest, but it subsided after a second. "You have a friend over?"
"Yeah, this is Y/N."
The smile you gave him was probably crooked with nerves, and you waved as you gave him a small, "Hi."
He gave you a tight-lipped smile as he waved back, "Nice to meet you."
He handed a drugstore bag with a box of lightbulbs in it to Eren. "Go ahead and put these in. I'll be upstairs if you need me."
"I know." Eren replied as he put the bulbs to the side of him.
"Wow, you weren't lying."
"You thought I was?"
"Mmm, maybe just a little."
He scoffed out a laugh, "Yeah. I totally just turned a breaker off for the dining room just to not have to sit there with you."
You shrugged, "Doesn't even sound too extreme. It's smart, if anything."
You saw his teeth as he laughed at you, "Thanks. I'll use that next time you come over. Force your scary ass to come up to my room."
He stood up off the couch, and he grabbed you by your hands and pulled you up too. "How am I scary?"
"W-wait! W-we're going up to your— your b-bedroom?" He mocked as he walked over to the dining room.
"I did not sound like that. And it's valid! My first time coming over here and you want me in your bedroom."
"Okay. When should I wait until? Third time? Fourth?"
"How about never?"
Another cocky chuckle came from him, "Second it is, then."
"You wish."
"You're right." He opened the box as you stood and watched him as he stood on a chair, focused as he unscrewed one light bulb and put the next in, the room slowly filling with light as he repeated the process four times.
He got down and dusted his hands off on his pants. "You wanna work on the project now?"
"Okay, we can."
You two sat on the couch, barely an inch of space between you two as you sat on your knees, him having his laptop on his lap. "Do you think this Google Slides template is nice? I like it."
You looked at the one he recommended. "It doesn't fit what we're talking about."
"Yeah, but it's cute."
"Yeah, but the movie is about fraud, scheming, and murder. How cute is that?"
He shrugged, "Depends on who you're asking."
You rolled your eyes, "Let me see." You typed 'crime' in on the website's search bar, and immediately saw a few that you liked. "See? Isn't this one more accurate?"
His face was scary unenthusiastic as you looked at him. "I see why that girl fell out with you after y'all did that project together."
You didn't see where this was coming from. "What? Why?"
"Don't take all the fun out of this with trying to control everything."
Your eyebrows sink down a little bit. "It was just constructive criticism."
"Mmm, okay."
You didn't say anything else after that. He kind of made you feel bad with that line, but maybe he was right. You didn't like that it gave you something to think about, though.
A few minutes passed before Eren's dad came downstairs. "Eren. When you take her home, can you go pick up some food I just ordered?"
"Sure. What did you order?"
"Chinese."
"Bet. Y/N, you ready to go?"
You closed your own laptop, getting ready to put it in your bag. "Sure."
During the car ride, you were silent as he listened to his music. You knew the songs, but you didn't sing along with him. Not a hum or a tap of the foot.
"Come inside with me." He said when he pulled up to the restaurant.
"No, I'll stay out here."
He didn't respond, just tightening his lips as he turned off the engine and got out. Instead of walking into the restaurant, he walked over to your door, and you had to catch yourself as he opened it.
"I said come inside with me." He unbuckled your seatbelt and grabbed your hand, helping you down from the truck even though you seethed with frustration.
You let his hand go when you got down, but he grabbed you by your belt as you two crossed the parking lot. When a car was passing, he pulled you closer to him to make you stop.
"Stop handling me like I'm a ragdoll."
"So your silly ass can get hit? No. You'll be okay."
You had your arms crossed as you and Eren waited for the food. He walked closer to you, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong."
He knew that was bullshit. "You still tired? Is that why you wanted to stay in the car so bad?"
You shook your head, "I'm fine."
"You know why I couldn't leave you in the car. If I went back and someone had taken you or something I would have to burn the whole city down."
You almost cracked a smile, but he saw you try to keep it back. "Are you mad at me because I pulled you in the parking lot?"
You didn't answer as you looked up at him. "How would you think I would feel if I watched that Dodge Ram squish you like a pancake?"
"Order for Jaeger?" The waitress called. Eren thanked her and took the bag. Then, he grabbed your jacket again.
"To answer my own question, it would not feel good. But if you keep giving me an attitude, I'll be the one to push you in front of the next truck."
In the car, he opened his plate up excitedly. He picked up a fork and picked up some orange chicken, holding it towards you. "Here. Taste this."
Another shake of your head, "I don't want any."
"It's so good. Blow it, because I know you don't want me to do it."
It hovered in front of you for another few seconds before you started blowing it. Before you could put it in your mouth, Eren redirected towards himself and ate it. The obnoxious hums and moans that he exuded as he chewed on the food pissed you off. You sucked your teeth and leaned against the door, looking out the window.
"Okay, okay. I was just playing with you. Here. I'll get a different fork and actually give you a piece."
"No, I don't want it. Drive me home."
"Oou, fiesty again. You're probably just hangry. Eat this."
He held the fork out to you again, and this time you grabbed the fork out of his hand and ate it yourself. "It's good, isn't it?"
"Mmhmm." You answered as you kept chewing. You two ate a little bit more, before he closed the container and started driving you to your house.
When he pulled into your driveway, he got out the car first and opened the door for you, picking up your bookbag. He closed the door behind you when you got out, leaving you standing in front of him. You tried to grab your bookbag back, but he wouldn't give it to you.
"Tell me. What's really the matter?"
"I told you, Eren. Nothing's wrong."
"I'm not buying that. What is it? Did I do something? Again?"
You didn't say anything, only tilting your head to the side.
"It's because I told you about yourself with that project, isn't it?"
You sighed, "I'm sorry. I'm just not good with group projects."
"Nah, from what I learned, you're good at just about everything. Everything but being nice to people."
Your lips poked out in a pout. "I'm trying my best, Eren."
"And I'm trying my best to get along with you too. So I'm sorry for hurting your feelings."
"It's fine. I could be less rude, I guess."
He chuckled, then handing you your bookbag. "I'm just asking you to try to get along with me more. If you do that, maybe you won't hate me when this is all over."
You took your bookbag with a grin, "Maybe I won't."
He walked you to your doorstep, and he gave you a nice hug before you walked inside. You were honestly cheesed up when you got through that door, but to see your birthgiver sitting right on the couch and looking at you made you freeze.
"Sit. I need to hear about this young colonizer."
When you got to film class the next day, you and Eren actually made a little bit of positive progress on the project, but you two did more talking than working. He spent most of the time making sure you would be at his track meet later that day.
And to the track meet you went. You walked in probably 3 events in, holding an icee that you bought from concessions in your hand as you walked over to your school's section.
You heard the aluminum stairs clanging with fast footsteps as you walked over, and you chuckled as you watched Ashyra speed down the steps towards you. "Y/N!"
She jumped on you in a hug, "Hey Shy. I told you I was coming."
"I didn't think you really meant it. Oh my gosh, the hermit really left her Hello Kitty room! I'm so proud!"
"Tch, girl." You began walking up the stairs, "When's your race?"
"I gotta go down there in like 5 minutes. I was 'bout ready to shit myself getting ready for this 200 but you popping out made me feel better."
You laughed, and as you walked up the steps, a handsome buzzcut boy called out your name and walked over to you from his row. "Hey pretty, what's up? I rarely see you come out and support."
He gave you a side hug, and it shocked you and flattered you altogether. "I come out sometimes to see Shy, but I usually leave after she's finished."
"You gonna stay the whole thing today?"
"Yeah, she will." A masculine voice that you've grown fond of called. You were looking for Eren as you walked up, but so many people came to see you before you could see him. So he came to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders in a hug. "You really came."
"I did. I didn't wanna find out what your annoying ass would do to me if I didn't." You told him as you hugged his torso in return.
He chuckled, "Come on. Sit with me."
He led you up the stairs, and you two were sitting in a row behind a bunch of a boys on the team. They would occasionally turn around and look at you both, and while Eren was talking to you, you couldn't even pay attention to him.
You beckoned him closer with your hand, and he brought his head closer to yours so you could whisper to him. "Why do your homeboys keep turning around and looking at us?"
"Why do you think they're looking at us?" He asked at a normal volume as he pulled away from you.
You shrugged, "I don't know. That's why I asked you."
He chuckled, "Probably just because I'm sitting with one of the prettiest girls in this school."
You tried to hide your incoming smirk by drinking from your icee. "What events do you have today?"
"Just long jump and pole vault today. 12'6 is the highest."
"Oh? Twelve feet is high."
"Yeah. You think I got it?"
You smirked, "You know I gotta see what you 'bout, first."
"Mmhmm, you'll see what I'm about."
"Why you not doing any running today?"
"I do not feel like doing any bullshit races. Pole vault is already not for the weak."
"Yeah, you got it, though."
He smiled, "Why you think so? You haven't even seen what I can do yet."
With him wearing his track uniform, his strong, muscular arms showed with the sleeveless shirt he wore. And these shorts were pretty tight. They gripped onto his strong thighs and something else that you liked to see.
You didn't even catch yourself looking him up and down. "No reason. Just predicting."
He clearly saw you checking him out, and it made him laugh. You were gonna ask him why he was laughing, but Ashyra came and gave you a hug, "Wish me luck! I'm about to go down to the field."
You turned around and gave her a full hug, wishing her the luck she asked for even though she didn't need it. Shy was the type of girl to tell the girls next to her at the line that she's nervous, and wish them luck. And then she hits a clean walkover into the blocks.
When that gun went off, Shy was gone. Just about everyone repping your school was stood at the front of the bleachers, leaning on the fence to cheer her on.
After they got past the curve, there was only one girl in front of her. The walk-down that Ashyra gave her probably made her feel wind as she flew by. The race felt like it went by so fast, because Shy made it past that finish line in what had to be a record.
When Shy came back up, she received daps and hugs from all over. Then she came up and sat by you as you sat alone. "Eren went to the field already?"
"Yeah, only like five minutes ago."
She looked through the field for him, and she pointed to him standing by a tent and stretching with some guy from a different school to the side of him who he was chatting with. "There he go right there. I bet I can tell you what his ass is saying right now."
"What?" You asked.
"Girl, he be going down there and telling the people he goes up against that he's new and it's his first year doing this. He is sick."
You laughed at that information, "Are you kidding? So he's good?"
"Bitch, he's great. He grunt like a bear when he run. That's how you know it's serious. Hold on, come close." She lowered her tone as she pointed towards a ginger boy who was sitting a few rows in front of you two. "You see him?"
"That's Floch, right? I can't stand his ass, and he kept turning around and looking at me and Eren."
"Girl, when Eren chooses not to do the 4-by-4, that leprechaun motherfucker right there is the reason we don't make the podium."
"Just taking up space." You were trying to make sure your laughs wouldn't be too loud, in case he would turn around and look at you again. But Ashyra didn't tone shit down, and he looked at y'all anyway.
That's when Shy cocked her neck at him. "Hello? Fuck are you looking at, Floch?"
He turned his ass back around, and you had to turn away as you laughed so hard that no sound came out of your throat until 20 seconds later.
When it got time for the pole vault, you, Shy, and many other people went up to the fence, leaning on it as you all watched Eren's event. When it was his turn, he did the 10' and the 10'6" like it wasn't there, only a few other guys struggling with that one. On his first 11'6", he knocked the pole down, and then he went clean over it on the next attempt.
Once it got higher you all could see that the first few guys who went for the 12' must've been having a bad day. Multiple knocked the pole down on their first attempt, then some doing better on the next attempts. One guy broke the bar and his pole in his attempts. The guy who went right before Eren was pretty good, barely grazing the pole when he went over it on the 12'.
When it got to the 12', Eren was doing high knee stretches before he picked up his pole. On the first attempt, he knocked the pole down, and when he was on the mat, you all could see him cursing as he stood back up.
"You got it, Eren!" A girl who was standing on the other side of you yelled. Others clapped and cheered him on too, but you stayed quiet and just clapped.
With his second attempt, everybody could just feel inside of them that it was gonna be better. Connie was standing to the side of the pole vault lane, watching up close as he and others waited for the men's 4-by-4, and he dapped him up and cheered him on.
As he ran with the pole, his form was absolutely beautiful, being completely upside-down when the pole was at it's straightest height, then not even touching the bar when he went over it.
Everyone watching this who was repping the school was clapping and cheering him on, and him and Connie dapped each other up again and again, so hard their hands were probably stinging when they finished.
"Do that shit again, Eren!" Shy shouted.
Now it was the 12'6". The last one and the highest one. You all saw Eren take a deep breath before he started running. His strides were clean and long, and he repeated the same thing that he did on his last attempt. Same lovely form, just going a necessary 9 inches higher.
Everyone was hype, clapping, and cheering after seeing Eren clear out his first attempt on the highest one like that. Your cheeks were hurting from how hard you were smiling as Shy shook you by your shoulders.
In the next 15 minutes, he was at long jump.  If you listened close enough, you could hear Eren's grunts as he ran. He made it look easy, going so damn far when he jumped that people who weren't even repping your school were paying attention as his feet landed only around a foot away from the end of the pit.
"EREN THAT'S A RECORD! THAT'S A FUCKING RECORD!" Eren instantly jumped up from the sand pit, hype as fuck and matching Connie's energy. Your school section was too gassed at Eren eating this meet the hell up.
"He gotta have a lil' nigga in him." Shy said.
"I'm saying!" You proclaimed. Connie was pushing limits staying and watching Eren's events so long like he wasn't the first leg in the 4-by-4 that was about to start very soon. He had to dash to the line and catch his breath with the time he had, but when the gun shot, he was out of those blocks like that gun was being shot straight at him.
"You better run like they coming to send you back to South America, Con!" Shy yelled, and that's exactly what he did. He got around the track before all the other guys, and the hand-off with Floch could've been better, but it wasn't terrible. Floch was in fourth when he got around the second curve, but he was able to walk one guy down by the next hand-off.
"Okay, leprechaun didn't do terrible." Ashyra commented. The guy who ran the third leg got your school back to second, by the fourth leg, this tall boy who you knew to be called Berthdolt was going stride for stride with a guy from another school.
"RUN LIKE A NIGGA FINNA SHOOT YOU IN YOUR FOOT, BERT!" The whole crowd was loud as everybody cheered for their school. You knew that Berthdolt was quiet, but when it came to sports, he would be locked the fuck in. And that's why with the last 100 meters, he absolutely dusted the guy who he was running against.
That 400 knocks motherfuckers out. After Berthdolt got past the line, he fell off to the side and laid down on the grass next to where Connie had been since he finished his lap. Your section stayed lit way after the race was over, and a bunch of the runners stayed sprawled out way after the race was over.
"Are those niggas ever gonna get up?" You questioned, seeing Eren squirt water into his teammates' mouths from the second bottle he's had to bring.
"Girl, you don't understand the pain."
When all those boys finally did get up and come back to the bleachers, they were receiving daps and congratulations from all over. You and Shy were sitting back down, and it took so long for Eren to get from the bottom of the steps to where you guys were.
"Good job, best!" Shy said as she dapped him up.
"Thank you, thank you."
"Good job, Eren." You'd been waiting for him to get up to you for so long. For some reason you wanted to say more, but that was the only thing that would make sense at the time.
While he was down there, he had put some sweatpants on. He looked calm and tired as he looked at you, and you were surprised as he pulled you up by your arm and embraced you in a big bear hug, balancing his weight out on you.
Your giggles warmed his heart, "Eren, you're too heavy for this!"
"Just let it happen." He said as he rocked you back and forth, feeling your arms wrap around his torso.
When he let you go, he reached into his sports bag and grabbed some money. "Shy, you want anything from concessions?"
"Can you get me a pickle?"
"Okay. Come on, Y/N."
He walked down the stairs with you, and Connie said, "He's taking our good luck charm away, y'all."
You chuckled in flattery as he said that, but Eren kept looking forward. "You know Connie's feeling you, right?" He told you as you both walked to concessions.
"Yeah I can tell. But I also know another guy who's feeling me too." You teased.
"Really? What's this one like?"
"Well, he's a little annoying. But I found out today that he's really good on the field."
Eren chuckled as you two stood in line, "What do you wanna get?"
"Umm, some nachos."
"Okay. Do you get yours with jalapeños on them?"
"No, not usually."
"Oh. Loser."
You hit him on his arm, "Stop it."
"I'm kidding. I'll get my own, since you don't know what life is about."
"Yeah. I wasn't gonna let your hungry ass share with me anyway."
He scoffed, "Why?"
"Because, after all the events you just did? That tray would be more yours than mine."
"Yeah, I showed you what I'm about. How you feel now?"
"I already told you you did a good job, Eren."
"That's not enough. Were you cheering for me?"
"Well, I was definitely clapping."
"I know you hear all the fangirls I have in those stands. How you gonna outdo them?"
"I'm not your fangirl, Eren."
He was very close to you, and you liked the way he looked at you from above. "What do you wanna be to me, then?"
You didn't say anything, and he saw your shock as your mouth fell open. The lady at the counter called out "Next!" It pulled you two out of your moment, and you two moved up in the line and Eren gave the woman your order.
"Okay. The nachos will be ready in a minute." You and Eren stood off to the side to wait, him holding Shy's pickle, and then a matured but fit man walked up and acknowledged him.
"Jaeger, right?"
You and him both shared some skepticism. "Who's asking?"
The man chuckled, "A guy who's glad he came to this meet today. Look, I'm a recruit from Harvard. The name's Dean Washington."
Eren's eyes widened and he firmly shook the man's hand. "Oh, yeah. I'm Eren Jaeger. Nice to meet you."
"I can't believe this. I mean, we've had our eyes on you since your sophomore year. A tri-athlete that gets better every time he hits any field, and today you broke two of your school's records."
"Wait, I broke a pole vault record too?"
"Hell yeah! You're a force, and you'll definitely hear from Harvard soon. Here, take my card."
Eren took the business card that the recruit handed to him, and with a few more polite exchanges and another handshake, the man was on his way.
"Okay, big shot. Is that the first scholarship you've been offered?"
"Nah. The one's I've been considering have been the full-rides from LSU and Notre Dame."
Your eyes were the size of golf balls, "And those aren't the only ones?"
"No. The other ones haven't pulled me enough. LSU's been begging."
"Well that's a good pick for football."
"Yeah, you're right. But Harvard? This is crazy." He said, picking up his tray of nacho's from the concession counter.
"It gives you a lot to think about." You two began walking back to the seats.
"You're smart. Have you gotten any scholarship offers?"
"Well I've taken a lot of merit scholarships, but I did get a full ride that's gonna take me to a nice tech school."
"Where?"
"Umm, MIT." The only reason you sounded shaky when giving him this answer his because this school was in the same city as Harvard.
He smiled, as you expected him to. "Well that's gonna make me consider Harvard more. You still don't wanna be my fangirl?"
You stopped walking, and he turned around and stopped with you. You looked him in his eyes when you said, "You're the best, Eren."
He held his smile back while he poked his tongue through his cheek, staring at you for a while and looking you in your sultry, adoring eyes. His eyes traveled your body up and down, before he grabbed your free hand and said "Come on."
You two got back up to Shy, and you guys ate your snacks, bantered with each other and others who came over, and watched the remaining races. When it was time for awards to be given at the end of the track meet, Eren and Shy just told you to come down to the field with them.
"The highest score comes from the phenomenal Paradis High! Both of today's MVP's come from this team as well. Ashyra Ross for her performance in the 100 meters, 200 meters, and 4-by-1 races, and Eren Jaeger who broke two of his school's records in long jump and pole vaulting." A commentator announced over the speakers.
Everyone who was still here was clapping as Eren and Shy went up and got their medals, taking the picture that represented the school.
Your mom was the one who dropped you off today, and when you told him that, he took the liberty of commanding you to let him drive you home. "But before that, we're going out to eat."
"Oh, so we're not gonna go over to your house and work on the project anymore?"
"Hell no. We're gonna go to Chipotle and fuck up burritos. Shit, I could eat a quesadilla too."
The next day came, and Eren didn't seem too ecstatic at school for him to have been one of the most-valued D-1 athletes walking through this campus. He didn't seem necessarily sad, but he wasn't smiling as much or being as annoying during film. And he was actually working at some minutes, and then the next minute you would find him with his head in the clouds. You didn't say anything about it, but during homeroom, you called it out.
"Eren, are you good?"
He was on his phone but just staring at it before you said something, and your voice calling his name seemed to pull him out of his trance. "Y-Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"
"I don't know, you just seem like you're in your own world. You sure everything's alright?"
He hesitated, but then he answered with, "I'm fine, Y/N. Thanks for asking, though."
You weren't sure he was being complete with you, but you didn't wanna push it. "Okay."
Thursday came, and you didn't see him pop up in first period.
you wya?
mvp sorry i'm busy today
you wow
day before due date too?
mvp you can still come over to my house later tho if it's that serious
you fine then
Your mom pulled off once he let you inside the house. He was wearing a hoodie and some sweat shorts, and his hair was out of it's usual bun, those brown tresses of his grazing his shoulders.
"We're working in my room today."
"Why? The couch has been fine."
"I'm not working on shit if I'm not in my bed."
With proper study skills being considered, that didn't make sense to you, but you didn't wanna question him. His room wasn't bad. It was spacious, and there was a bunch of stylish art, memorable photos, & decor on his dark grey walls. But it was still the room of a teenage boy, so you couldn't help but recognize the unmade bed and the junk food wrappers & empty dishes that were around and on his bed.
"So, where were you today?" You asked him as you opened your laptop while sitting at his desk, him comfy under the blankets of his mattress with his laptop open on his lap.
"I told you. I was busy."
"That's not what I- Nevermind."
About half of a minute passed before he gave you a proper answer. "I was at a dinner."
"Wow. I was listening to Miss Sullivan run her mouth and you were dining away."
"Yeah, lucky me then." His voice was drained of any warmth, and you just decided that it would be best for you to not talk to him unless necessary today.
About 20 minutes passed before you two shared any words. Then, you broke the silence. "When are you gonna add pictures to your slides?"
Looking through the slides, they were good and accurate, proper spelling and capitalization too. That's something you could appreciate in a partner, but the issue with the pictures was the only one you had.
"I'm gonna do it soon."
"Well... Can you do it now? So we can be done."
He sighed, "You're doing it again."
"Doing what, Eren?"
"That control freak in you is coming out." He answered, still nonchalantly scrolling through his phone.
"Well if being a control freak might get you to act like you care then I'll be that."
"It's just like five pictures."
"Exactly. It's just like five pictures. Quick and easy."
"Exactly. That's why you can wait."
"Do you want me to do it for you? Because I'm fine with that since you seem to be in such a bad mood."
"I'll do the goddamn work. Fuck. Just be quiet."
You turned around completely in the chair, "Who the fuck are you talking to? You invited me over here."
"Yeah. We can both probably see why I'm regretting that today."
Your laptop was loud when you slammed it shut, not wasting any time to put it in your bookbag. "Right. So I'll be downstairs waiting for my ride, since you wanna talk to me like you weren't raised right."
"Fuck did you just say to me?" Eren closed his laptop too, moving his comforter and getting out of his bed.
"You wanna talk to me like that, talk to your fucking mama like that, hoe." You would tell that line to any person who got out of line with you, but this seemed to push a button of his.
It took only a few long strides for him to beat you to the door. You had swung your bag over your shoulder, and as you were opening his bedroom door to leave, he was slamming it shut with one hand as he looked down on you.
"My mom's fucking dead, Y/N."
His voice was deep and husky, but it also shook when he said that. Your hard exterior instantly softened, "Eren..."
He took a shuddering breath, and then he turned around and slowly began walking back to his bed. "Why do you think I wasn't there today? I was at a damn memorial dinner."
You put your bag back down, "I'm sorry."
"Thanks." He sat down on his bed, legs spread and arms hung to the sides of them, "You can go now."
You approached him slowly with ease. Sitting down by him on his comfortable mattress, the touch of your hand on him lightened his temper. You ran your hand through his hair, showing his face to you more.
"You're sad. Why would you make time for me if you're feeling like this today?"
"I've been sad for a while. Nothing new."
Your hand traveled down to the back of his neck, rubbing his nape soothingly. "What's wrong today, then?"
He took a second, and then he ran his own hand through his hair before he answered you. "Today makes seven years. It's just different."
"I'm sorry, again."
"No reason to be. You're not Lupus."
"I was giving you a hard time. That's why I'm sorry."
You just wanted to be there for him, especially after being so rude earlier. He turned to look at you, and his eyes were glossy and flooded, and that made your eyes fill up with tears too.
Sad boy or not, he was still strong as hell. So when he wrapped his arm around your torso and pulled you in for a hug, your whole body shifted over to him, and you straddled his lap to be comfortable.
"It's okay. It's your thing to give me a hard time."
You kept running your nails through his hair, and he adored the feeling. He stayed with his face buried in your chest, loving the feeling, loving the smell, loving the care, loving the comfort.
He lifted his face up, his chin nuzzled in your chest as he looked up at you. "I did really good at the track meet the other day."
You saw the damp tracks of his salty tears spread under his eyes. You placed both hands on the sides of his face, "You did."
"Guess who else reached out."
You tilted your head, softly asking, "Who?"
"UCLA."
"Oh. Another D-1?"
A meek close-lipped grin showed as he nodded. You used each thumb to wipe his tears. "I told you you're the best."
He gave you a real grin this time, then laying the side of his face on your chest. "She can't see it, though."
You began rubbing his head again. "You think she's not watching you?"
"I want her to be there watching me. I wish she could— I just—"
You quietly shushed him, holding him close. "She would be proud of you, baby."
He looked up at you. "You think so?"
"I know so... If it helps, I'm proud of you."
His lips were slightly parted as he looked at you, and then he was only looking at your lips. The next thing he knew, his lips were on yours. Slow, soft. He didn't wanna stop. He couldn't be off of you.
He was so gentle, just as you were with him. Your body curved into his, and his hand trailed under your hoodie, slowly running his palm up the middle of your back and keeping you close to him while you subconsciously grinded down on him.
When he pulled his lips away, his hand was unbuckling your bra as you felt him growing under you. "Eren."
His lips were occupied kissing your neck, but he put in the effort to answer you. "What?"
"Are you sure this is what you need right now?"
"I'm sure that what I need right now is you."
He kissed your lips again, and a string of saliva connected between your lips and his when he pulled away. Picking you up so easy, he changed your positions, you being laid on your back as he hovered over you now. "Can I have you?"
"Are you gonna even take no for an answer?"
He smirked, and then he shook his head no.
"Then you already got me, baby."
Your hoodie was off. His hoodie was off. His shorts were getting pulled down. Your jeans were on the floor. The door was locked. His hair was tied up. Your glasses were on the nightstand.
All you saw was his chiseled abs, his defined V-line, and that huge print showing through his briefs, and all he saw was your pretty half-naked self laying on his sheets under him.
You lifted your arms up so he could take your bra off, and then your pretty tits jiggled as they laid out under him. He whispered a curse as he threw your bra to the side. He leaned down and kissed your neck, and you felt shivers trickle up your thighs as his fingers met the sensations in the middle.
"You came here wearing a matching set for me." He grazed his fingers past the pink lace that made the panties of this matching set.
"I didn't think this was gonna happen." Every word coming from your overachieving mouth would be soft and shy, shyer than he knew you to be. He liked that he made you get like this as your pussy twitched under his fingers.
"Mmm, you were ready for me though." He slid your panties to the side, and your back arched off the bed when he drove his fingers in you. You let out a shriek that would've been a moan if you didn't hold back.
It sounded like ocean sounds were playing as he filled you up with his two digits, pulling them out, then jutting them back in again and again. His lips were wrapped around your chocolate areola, his tongue swirling around it like the delectable desert that it was to him.
Your back was arching off the bed, and he just kept hitting a spot deep inside that would turn your moans into whines. He looked up into your eyes from where he lay, and you were looking down at his hand going in and out of you at a dangerous speed. He pulled his mouth away and hovered over your face, and he began guiding you through your high.
"Like that, baby?"
"Yeah, like that."
"You look so damn pretty. So pretty when you're cumming on my fucking fingers."
You wrapped an arm around his neck, holding onto him tight and your back hovering off the bed as he hit that spot again, and again, and one more time before—
"Fuck! Eren!" You flooded his fingers and his wrist, and your hips kept grinding onto his hand as you rode out your high.
"That's it, pretty girl. Keep cumming for me."
When he pulled his hand out, you fell down onto the mattress. Your legs instantly closed, just like your eyelids as you caught your breath with the back of your forehead. He kissed your jawline and rubbed his hand up and down your body, taking your panties off then bringing his kisses down low and reopening your legs, kissing on the warm wetness of your clit.
"Eren." You cooed, and you called his name again but more hastily when he slid a broad lick across your sensitive slit.
He changed positions but left you where you were, now propped up in between your legs and his hands reopening them. He pulled you by your thighs closer to him, leaning to the side to reach in his nightstand and pull out a condom.
Your fat pussy was pressed up against his thick, clothed bulge. He whipped it out, and your shock was evident when seeing his long dick out of the clothes. "Oh."
He laid it on you as he unwrapped the condom, and the tip went all the way to your belly button. "You okay?"
You sat up partially to get a better view of this monster that he was planning on putting inside of you. "Y-Yeah."
He breathed out a laugh at your nerves, sliding the rubber onto his hard length. "You think you got it?"
"Umm, we'll see."
He aligned his tip with your hole, slapping it on your clit a few times. You and him both watched as he began to slowly push inside of you, until you couldn't watch anymore. Your eyes filled with tears and you had to squeeze them shut as you cursed.
"Fuck, are you a virgin? You're tight as hell."
"No, you're just big!"
You could cry and whine all you wanted. Unless you said something, he was gonna do his best to fit his thick cock in your tight hole. He grabbed the ankle of one of your legs that were thrown over his shoulder, rubbing it and pecking it with kisses as he slid inside of you.
"Relax, mama. I need this pussy to stop squeezing me so tight."
You had your toes curled and one hand gripping his sheets, the other holding your breast like it was a stress ball. When he kept pushing inch after inch in, you let your head fall back on the sheets. You hadn't fucked in a while. It hurt, but it hurt so good.
"There you go, gorgeous. I know you can take me." It wasn't all of him. There was about an inch of his shaft that couldn't go in anymore, but his tip was pressed in as deep as it could go.
You let out the cutest, shuddering moan when he started thrusting slowly in and out of you. Everytime that he would go in, he could see the imprint of his dick poking through the pudge of your stomach.
You were leaving a creamy layer of your juices on the condom as he fucked your sweet hole, "All this 's for me, right baby?"
"Yesss. It's all yours."
He held your face in his hand, "Open those pretty eyes and look at me."
You did as he said, caressing his hand with yours and leaning into him. Looking into his green eyes so innocently, yet he knew you were far from that by the way you were taking him. You were so smart. Smart enough to recognize that when you moaned the way that you did, needily called his name the way you did, grinded your hips onto his cock the way you did, that you had him wrapped around your finger.
Your lips parted more as he jutted his hips in deep. A guttural moan from your throat came out as he hit your spot purposely rougher this time. You couldn't help it, especially with the way that he looked so sexy when he looked down at you like this. His thick brows were furrowed, hanging over desiring dark eyes that were hazy with lust. His skin was damp with sweat. His soft lips were hanging open, letting his groans out as your pussy milked him.
"Eren, come closer baby. I need to feel you." You were spiraling with passion, and he was entwining in pleasure from finally satisfying his craving that was you. He leaned down and kissed you, enjoying how sloppy and erotic it was.
"You wanna feel me even more than you already are?"
"I needed..."
Your hand was roaming, holding him close by rubbing at his nape. "Your skin..."
Then his shoulder, "I wanted it on me." then his arm, squeezing him tight with your nails digging into his arm.
"Shit." The low growl that came from him as you left your marks made your whole body shiver. You just repeated the coo of the word "Baby" over and over again, the speed of it mounting as he kept going.
"I know, ma. I know. I'm... Close... Too."
You came first, you releasing a high-pitched moan with your juices that wet him up as his thrusts got more sporadic, yet still giving all his force.
"Ah, fuck." You felt his breath on your face as he pushed out his last few movements of his hips. You both were breathing gently on each other, him holding your face in his hand while you ran your hands through his hair, giving each other wet, soft kisses on each other's lips.
When he lifted up, the condom was filled with a fat heap of his nut before he pulled it off, tying it up and taking a tired walk to the trash can to throw it away.
You were still laying down when he got back over, just propped up on your elbows as you watched him.
He stood in front of you, rubbing your legs. "Were you just looking at my ass?"
You were feeling extremely relaxed, and your laugh represented that. "I was looking at everything, baby."
Even the fresh scars you left on his shoulders and arms. The way his body flexed with every movement, a different muscle being highlighted with every step. His sexy mannerisms, like the way he walked, the way he ran his hands through his hair, or the way he would look back at you. Damn. He was so fine for you.
And he was looking at everything you did. Your eyes were on his, so they were watching as he trailed down your body, looking at your full breasts, the texture of your warm brown skin, and the way that your plump ass still was visible even while you were laid down like this.
"You're so damn sexy."
"Mmm." You lifted up, running your hands up his chiseled body until they got to his pecks, "Let me hear that again."
He chuckled, "You're a slut, too. How did I not know that?"
Craning down, he pecked your smirking lips. "Yeah, I wanna hear that again too."
He bagged not just a beautiful genius, but a perfectly lewd freak. He held you by the back of your neck to give you another sweet kiss.
"Do you think your dad heard us?"
"Hmm, if so, it's a hard day. I'm sure he'll understand."
You grinned as you looked up at him, and he did the same as he towered down on you. You both could tell what was going on behind each other's eyes.
"Do you have any more condoms?"
Laid on your side. He would slow it down then speed it up, harassing that pussy like it wronged his whole bloodline. One hand was under your bent knees, and the other hand traveled from your ass to your neck, gripping your throat and holding you steady when he filled you up with the length of his cock.
You were wise, but you learned more and more everyday. Something you observed from Eren is that he's a feen for a fat ass. That's why the third condom you two were on broke when he was hitting it from the back.
And something that he learned about you was that you craved the feeling of his touch and his warm skin on your own. So when he slowed his pace down with the next trial from the back, he pulled you by your neck closer to him, your back centimeters away from his chest in this steamy room as he caressed your breasts and kissed your shoulders.
And when you slutted him out while riding? He was trying to match your energy first, bucking his hips up while you were slamming yours down. The headboard was rocking into the wall so much that one time it might've been his dad knocking on the door to make sure you two were okay.
He couldn't hear that though, especially over your moans and his combining in harmony. His moans were dragging out of him, exhausted rambles leaving his mouth as he held you close, his face rubbing against your titties as you went up and down on him, leaving a creamy mess between you two.
The last nut from the night didn't need a condom. You were hovered over his face, but then he just pulled you down and put that tongue to work as he jerked himself off, receiving help from you when you could move your body accordingly to your mind, which was almost broken with the persistence of Eren eating you out.
He kept going on for what was probably a whole hour. You weren't sure. He just said that you weren't moving until he was done eating, but when he freed you from his hold, you laid your ass down.
You woke up in a haze in this dark room, a ringing sound filling your ears. Eren was laid on your ass like it was a cushion, and you could hear his soft snoring.
"Fuck, what time is it?"
You had to put your glasses on, and you saw that his digital clock read 1:37. Your phone was ringing, and it was your mom.
"Shit, shit, shit."
Eren was waking up, but his head plopped onto the mattress when you — his human pillow — hastily moved.
"Hey baby. You alright? I've been calling you, it's late."
"Y-Yeah. I'm sorry mama. I just fell asleep." Eren tapped back into consciousness when you turned his lamp on as you talked on the phone and hastily tried to collect your clothes at the same time.
"It's okay if you were doing unspeakable things, honey. As long as you were being responsible."
You sighed, "I love you, mom. Thank you for being chill."
"Yeah, I'm chill, but I'm still a worried mother. I'm parked outside of his house. Get down here, because I'm not letting you go to school in the same clothes two days in a row or a boy's. Bye."
She hung up the phone, so you put it down as you kept getting changed. He rubbed his eyes and sat up on the bed and watched you.
"That's my sock."
You cursed, almost having a white and a black sock on.
"The hoodie's inside out."
You sighed, pulling it off and reversing it.
He got up and put his briefs on, covering his dick up in time to catch your next mistake.
"Jeans on and no panties? Fuck, just stop moving. Calm down."
He helped you get your jeans back off, picking up your panties and allowing you to step into them. Then he helped you jump into your jeans, slapping your ass when you finished that task.
"Stop." You slapped his hand away from your butt.
"Uptight again like you weren't about to break my dick off like three, four hours ago. Okay."
"Quit it." You slid into your crocs and picked up your bag, "Okay, I'll finish the last few details of the slideshow. I'll see you tomorrow— I mean, today, okay?"
"Mmhmm." Despite this tired response that you expected to be the end of the interaction, he grabbed you by your hood and spun you back around, planting a warm kiss on your lips that almost paused all of your panic.
And when you pulled away, it almost came back, until he started talking. "I'll finish the slideshow right now, okay? Go home and lay down, you overachiever."
You breathed in through your nose, "Okay. Make it look pretty, alright?"
"I will, baby."
One more kiss, before you turned around and walked out of the door.
"See you later." He told you.
"Yeah, see you later, love."
You tried to get downstairs quietly, not sure if Mr. Grisha would be down there or not. When you thought you were in the clear, you were proved wrong.
"Have a nice night, Y/N." He was sitting in a living chair, and you couldn't tell how you didn't see him. He shot you a warm smile as he looked up from the book he was reading, and the one you gave him back was probably crooked.
"You too, Mr. J."
You cursed at yourself in your head as you turned away from him and rushed your way out.
In the morning, Eren did most of the presenting since you were the main worker. The presentation was actually fun. Eren kept comically teasing you, but you weren't opposed to it. It actually surprised the people in your class when seeing you smile.
When walking out of the class, Eren held your hand and spun you around for the direction he was walking in. "You told me you have Miss Russé next. She'll be okay if you're a few minutes late."
You grinned and chuckled, "Where you taking me?"
"Just somewhere where I can talk to you." He led you through the front exit passing by the office, just so you two could sit at the empty benches that are out there.
"Do you know how tempted I was to slap your ass when you were sitting back down?"
"Still severely horny, huh?"
Grabbing your jean pocket, he pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, "After last night? Of course I am."
He placed his hand on your jaw as he locked his lips with yours, him leading the kiss. When he pulled away, you had your hands on his chest, "Yeah, I actually wanted to talk about that."
His head tilted, eyes narrowing too, "Yeah?"
"Um, I think— I think it was us getting carried away."
The look on his face wasn't neutral, although others might think that if not knowing the context. But you saw his jaw clench as he swallowed, and his eyebrows slowly furrowing over his darkening green eyes.
"I was in between your legs like, what, nine  hours ago. And now you think it was a mistake?"
"No, no. Not a mistake. I just looked back on it and I was thinking, maybe sex wasn't what you needed at the time."
The way he was looking at you made you feel so small. "Did I not make you feel good? Be honest."
"No, that's not it. You made me feel great."
"I could tell. So what the fuck is the problem?"
"Eren, you heard me. You were very sad and then we just had sex like that fixed everything. That's what's not making me feel good."
He stood up, and at this point you felt like you were buried into the ground, your head being the only thing above the surface so you could look at him. "Why the fuck are you doing this to me?"
"Eren, I'm not doing this to you. I was just saying it! I still adore you."
"Really? I can't tell." He picked his bag up and walked away from you, but not into the building. He walked out into the parking lot, and you walked back in the building before you could see where he was off too.
You didn't cry. No. You just felt like you were crying inside though. This was weird. You haven't thought about boys like this in forever. Then all of a sudden, one charms you on a Monday, and by the end of the week he's rearranged your guts.
At homeroom, you didn't see him. There was a possibility he was just going in his car to cool off earlier, and then there was the possibility that he drove home. He did the latter, and you were kind of relieved. Him ignoring you while being in the same room as you would've made you want to bury yourself in a hole.
Then the day went on. You got home, and you still wanted to sink into the ground. Not because of the reason from earlier. It changed into something else. You were craving him. You didn't care how awkward it would be, or how mad he could get, or how much he would yell at you. You wanted your body on his. You wanted to be around him. You wanted to be laughing with him, cumming with him.
You were obsessed with little shame about it, and that's why he got multiple rings on his doorbell and knocks on his from door at 7 in the evening.
"Wow. You came to see your mistake."
You were wearing another one of your hoodies, and this time a patterned pair of flair pants. Your slides were plush. Probably not the best choice for the rain that was just starting. But you still looked cute to Eren, and that made him even more frustrated.
"I never said that." Your pleading voice was so cute, and he was trying to make sure his dick wouldn't get hard as he looked at your doe brown eyes looking at him.
"Tch, come inside before it starts pouring."
You walked inside, turning around to face him once he closed and locked the door behind him. He was wearing grey sweatpants and a black tank top. He had his hands in his pockets, and before looking at his face, you were looking at his toned muscles and the print showing through his pants.
You were looking at him, and he was looking at you. You saw his Adam's Apple bob as he took a deep breath and got ready to talk. "Well, you drove your raggedy ass car to come see me. What do you have to say?"
You were standing with your hands behind your back, and a courage-building inhale preluded your sentence. "I'm sorry. I do mean what I said, but the delivery could've been better. Especially since it made you think that I don't want you, and I do want you. A lot. I was just thinking about it, and I don't regret what we did at all, but what led to it is what I was thinking about.
"But we can't change what was done. And I don't wanna change what was done, at all. I would sound like a hypocrite if I let on that I did, because a lot of the things that I said last night wouldn't elude that. Like when I said you're the best, I meant that. I mean, you're the best I've had, considering I've only had one other perso— Can you accept my apology already?"
He was smiling at you so hard that his cheeks were hurting. "C'mere."
You took the embrace that he was offering, him rocking you side to side as he laughed. You wanted your hands wrapped around him like this as long as possible, along with the feeling of him rocking you back and forth.
"Who was this other guy you fucked?" He asked you in the hug.
You lifted your face from his chest and looked up at him. "You in my business right now?"
"Yeah. You owe me."
"Why?"
"Because, I didn't say I accepted your apology. After how you made me feel earlier, I deserve something generous from you."
"Really?"
"Really." His hands went down to your ass, and you loved the way he touched on you, rubbing and massaging it. "Answer the question. Who took your virginity?"
"It was my boyfriend from sophomore year."
"Oh, yeah. I used to see you walking around with him. He's a loser."
Your mouth fell open, "Eren, be nice. He wasn't bad."
"Mmhmm." His mouth went down to your ear, "This ass isn't for him though, yeah?"
"N-No. It isn't."
"Neither is that pretty pussy though, right?"
"Right, baby."
"Who does it belong to?"
You looked up into his eyes, your hands on his chest. "It belongs to you, Eren."
"That's right. You belong to me. Don't ever try to fucking leave me or pull the shit you pulled earlier again, alright?"
Your lashes batted, but you still looked at him with adoration. "Okay, baby. I won't."
"Good girl." Gripping your ass cheeks, he shook one in his hold before he told you, "Get on your knees."
You did what he said, and he held your locs in his hand as you looked up at him. "What about your dad, though?"
"He's a surgeon. Working overtime tonight. Now, go ahead and pull it out. Let's see how else you can use this overachieving mouth."
He was right. You tried to overachieve in everything that you did. Even sucking dick. When you pulled his already hard dick out of his pants, you kissed the tip, using his drops of pre-cum as an extra layer of lip gloss.
You jerked him off with both hands, using your saliva from the licks you placed up his shaft as lubricant. Your hand ran up his torso, and you only had your eyes on his dick as you kissed it and slapped it against your lips.
When you actually started taking it in your mouth is when he got more vocal. You would hum every time you would slowly bob your head back and forth, taking more and more of his length everytime, until his whole shaft was in your mouth and you had your hand placed on the back of his waist to keep it there.
You pulled away and caught your breath, looking up at his hazy teal orbs that were looking straight back down at you in awe. "How many times have you fucked?"
All you gave to that question was a smirk, caressing his dick in your palm and using your wet lips to kiss and suck his fat balls. You practically gargled them in your spitty mouth while you sped up the pace of pumping his thick dick in your hand.
"Fuuuuuck." His groan was low and raspy as he took your throat as his own personal belonging.
You took his length back into your mouth, and the more of a mess you made increased to how much he was turned on. He felt every time his inches would go past your plump lips into your warm mouth. Your tongue kept licking that big vein that ran down the middle of his cock.
"Shit, I accept your apology. It's okay, it's okay baby. Fuck."
Your eyes shut and you stopped moving after he said that, and you took a deep breath and wiped your mouth. "I didn't— I didn't cum yet."
"I know that. I was paying you back what I owed." You got off of your knees and walked past him, "You were being really mean, though. Now I feel like I'm owed something. Come on."
You scurried up the stairs, and he didn't even tuck his dick back in to follow you. You were ahead of him, but him skipping stairs when he walked helped close the distance.
"I owe you?" He asked when he met you in his bedroom.
"Yeah. You do." He didn't expect it, and that's why it was so easy for you to push him on his bed. He sat up on his elbows as he watched you pull your pants down.
"Hold on, I don't want you to take your panties off y—"
"Eren, you don't get a say right now, baby. I'm sorry to break it to you."
His eyebrow furrowed, him looking like he was in complete disbelief. "What?"
"You heard me." Your juicy pussy was nude and aligned with his wet and hard cock as you took off your hoodie, then your bra, unleashing your yummy breasts right in his face.
But he couldn't touch them, or even lift up and suck them, because after you helped him take his shirt off, you pinned his hands down to the bed with your own, even humming in sadistic satisfaction when you did it. You used one hand to put him inside of you, and you moaned so sexily that he could've came right there.
But he didn't, he tried to push through. Even when you started bouncing that ass up and down on him ruthlessly, clapping sounds filling the room.
"So good, baby. You feel so fucking good." Your pussy was waiting for him, missing him desperately after last night. You didn't waste a second when on top of him.
You watched as his face scrunched up while you were milking the soul out of him through his dick. He was looking to the side, repeating, "Oh my god." with his deep moans.
He should've known you were gonna double back. Two strong-willed people having sex with each other just seems to lead to it lasting all night. But riding him like this right after sucking him so good and not letting him cum was just cruel.
That's why it took less than two minutes for him to give you the warning, forcing out an, "I'm— cumming." You got off of him, and watched as his spurts of cum came out like a fountain. It got all over his chest and yours, mixing in with the hair from his happy trail and dripping down from your tits to your stomach.
Your hand was on the bottom of his shaft, and you were gently pumping him as he came, so you loved the feeling of his dick pulsating as he emptied his balls. Once he was finished, you dragged your hand up his shaft, and he watched as you licked the cum off your fingers.
"Shit, come here."
You laid down on your stomach next to him and kissed him. "You're such a fucking freak." He told you, intertwining his fingers with your soft locs.
"And you aren't?"
"I never said I wasn't. That's why I like fucking you so much."
After a few minutes of you two making out, a struggle for dominance ensued. He quickly won it though, with him gripping your ass helping him get on top of you.
To your surprise, his dick was still hard, and he laid it over your stomach. "You're crazy, y'know? Fucking me like that without a condom."
"It felt better that way. And, I'm on birth control anyway."
"Hmm, good. Because we ran out of condoms last night."
"Oh."
"So, you okay if I fill you up?" He slid inside as he asked you this, and that familiar imprint in your stomach came back. "Make you mine?"
"Y-Yeah. Fill me up baby."
Eren loved hickeys, but not during the school year. He's literally always involved with a sport, so unless it's a winter practice, they're gonna be seen on him. But thankfully, he loved giving them too. So he took the liberty to grab your legs and fold you in half, allowing himself to lean down and kiss you as he gave you those magnificent thrusts. Those kisses went lower, and his mouth stayed in spots on your neck as his groans easily traveled to your ears.
When he sat back up, his pace got brutal, and you felt every last thrust hit so deep inside of you. "It's deep, Eren. So fucking deep."
Your breathy whimpers turned him on so much. He was focused on trying to make your pussy remember his shape fondly down to every last vein, hoping that he could make every one of his eight inches get in there.
He had a goal, and that's why he was being so relentless. You put your hand on his chest, whining and whimpering, but he moved it away. When he moved his hand back, he decided to hold your hands and your legs in his holds together.
"Fuck! Baby, slow downnn."
He was gonna keep plowing into you, even faster now that you said something. "Take it. You got it, ma."
"Eren, Eren! Fuck!" Your eyes were rolling back, and he was glad to see that he could make your eyes roll back in another way than you having sass.
You started repeating a slur of yeses when you were cumming, and as your body shook with your orgasm, you left a milky puddle of your cream under you.
Now is when he slowed down, to ride out his own high. He kept holding you where you were as his eyes shut, groaning and moaning while he filled you up, as he said he would do.
When he pulled out, the creamy concoction that was left on him was falling out of you. "Come here, mama."
He picked you up, and you held onto him tight as he rubbed your back up and down. "You're mine, baby."
You were mindfucked and hazy, but you still responded with, "I'm yours."
"All fucking mine."
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teamatsumu · 6 months
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kinktober 2023 -> day 23
voyeurism - kageyama tobio x reader x oikawa tooru
word count: 1167
warnings: smut, fingering, swearing, slight humiliation
kinktober masterlist
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Kageyama had known ever since Middle School that Oikawa was leagues above him in every sense.
He was a better volleyball player, and a better team player as well. He could work with people he didn’t like without letting it hinder the team play. He could set to anyone perfectly and make it seem effortless. His serves were miles above Kageyama’s in terms of power and control too. But none of that had ever upset Kageyama for too long. It was a motivator. Surpassing Oikawa had become his goal. And so he took Oikawa more as a teacher than as a rival.
Years later, it seemed Kageyama was still learning from his senpai, though now it was in fields other than volleyball.
“Pay attention, Tobio-chan.” Oikawa’s voice was as smooth and buttery as ever. “Don’t let your focus stray. I won’t help you over and over, y’know? My time is precious, after all.”
His words and tone were dismissive, but his actions stated otherwise. His posture was alert and present as he curled his torso over your back, one strong arm wrapped around your waist to hold you in place where you sat in his lap, caged by his legs, back to him. And his fingers were eager as they glided through the wetness between your legs, almost teasing as his fingertips tapped playfully at your clit, making you jump. Kageyama watched with interest at how you reacted to Oikawa’s touches, how any little brush on his hand would send your eyes rolling in your head or your mouth dropping open.
When Kageyama had mentioned over a regular dinner at your shared apartment that Oikawa would be coming over to show him how to properly have sex with you, you had choked on your bite and spent the next ten minutes wheezing and dry heaving over the sink while he patted your back, confused by how outrageous your reaction was. You had screamed at him in panic, asking him what the fuck was wrong with him, and had to sit him down and explain to him that this was not the way to improve your sex life.
“But Oikawa-san is better at it than me!” He had countered. “He always had a girlfriend in high school. And even now. He’s surrounded by girls-”
“Those are fangirls, Tobio!” You shrieked. “He’s not sleeping with all of them!”
“Regardless, I know he can help. He turned my life around with the advice he gave me in high school. I wouldn’t be the player I am without it.”
It had taken some convincing, and a few days of thinking on your part, but you had finally agreed after asking him a million times if he was sure he was okay with this. Kageyama was adamant he was, and he still stood by it. Watching this here, now, a small thrill ran down his torso and settled as a knot in his lower stomach. Made his dick twitch.
You whined when Oikawa put just the tip of his middle finger into your hole, swirling it a bit teasingly before pulling out again. Your legs were shaking with the effort of keeping them open, making sure Kageyama got a good view of what was happening between them. It was an order Oikawa had given you at the very start (‘Don’t you let those legs close, Y/N-chan. How can Tobio-chan learn when he can’t see what he’s supposed to be doing?’), and Kageyama marveled at the fact that you had yet to disobey him, no matter how hard it may seem for you to comply. You had submitted to Oikawa, in a way you had never submitted to him.
Kageyama didn’t take offense to it. As with volleyball, he shouldered responsibility for your reactions. If you were reacting this way to his senior but not him, he was obviously doing something wrong. And here he was, seated before you, watching your naked figure lean back on Oikawa, covered in a thin layer of sweat, eyes glistening with unshed tears as Oikawa teased you relentlessly, playing your body as if it were a string instrument. Kageyama licked his lips as he watched your juice wet his senpai’s fingers, wetter than he had ever seen you.
Your legs twitched and tensed when Oikawa finally slid a finger into your heat, a relieved sigh escaping you, hips pushing down on his hand insistently. Kageyama’s sharp eyes tracked every movement, comparing it to how you were with him, noting every difference and feeling amazed by the results.
“Oikawa-san,” you breathed, your tone pleading. “Please, more.”
You sounded so greedy. Kageyama’s dick gave a painful throb.
Oikawa hummed as if in thought. He had a sharp little smirk playing on his face, eyes moving from your heaving chest up to meet Kageyama’s, making him sit up a bit.
“What do you think, Tobio-chan? Should I give her more?”
Kageyama gulped. “Yes?”
Oikawa tutted. “Wrong answer.”
You let out a little sob at his words, one hand reaching to circle around Oikawa’s wrist. Oikawa made a warning sound.
“Hands off, princess. You know the rules.”
Your hands immediately shot away, twisting in the bedsheets under you instead. Your breaths were heavy, broken moans leaving your lips as Oikawa’s one finger worked inside you. Kageyama watched on with intrigue. One finger and you were already a mess. It usually took Kageyama much more. You had also obeyed Oikawa with little to no resistance when he had told you to keep your hands off him.
So much information. So much he could work with in the future.
Oikawa was watching him with sharp eyes, smirking as if he knew exactly what had clicked inside Kageyama. His arm around your waist tightened.
“It seems our little genius has made a mental breakthrough, Y/N-chan.” He drawled. “Which means you get to have a reward.”
You gasped when Oikawa sank another finger into your cunt and immediately started pumping them into you at a fast pace. Your back arched, legs separating more as if inviting him further in, eyes screwing shut as you cried through it. Kageyama watched with wide eyes, not blinking, not wanting to miss even a single thing. His breath seemed to be suspended in his throat, his mouth dry, dick so hard and throbbing it nearly made him black out, and when you screamed through your orgasm, gushing over his senpai’s fingers and shaking in his tight hold, Kageyama felt like one single touch on his own cock would make him cum on the spot too.
Your legs trembled and shook as you slumped back on Oikawa’s body, sighing in bliss as he cooed over you, careful hands running over your bare inner thighs as if to calm you down. Oikawa held up one finger, grinning over to where Kageyama sat, looking so wrecked it looked like he was the one doing all the work.
“That was lesson one. Let’s move on to the next one, shall we?”
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A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!
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janeyseymour · 2 months
Note
hi i love ur writings so so much i’m so sorry this idea is rushed but i hope its enough
abbot family is trying to encourage melissa to “get back out there” and meet people after everything she’s been through. she brushes them off constantly until they stage an intervention during lunch and even barb is concerned for her work wife. melissa leaves this lunch with some big feelings because little does everyone know melissa has been seeing someone this whole time. comes home to reader smoking a joint while cooking in the kitchen and reader says something along the lines of “you look like you could use this more than me” and they make a plan together to introduce reader to everyone at a 4th of july bbq
you gonna get what you ask for 🤪 Not edited in the slightest. I got places to be and people to see
Intervention
WC: ~2.35k
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It’s been a year and a half since Melissa Schemmenti publicly said no to a marriage proposal. A year and a half since the fiery redhead had gone out with anyone, and she really doesn’t have any plans to start dating again- at least that’s what the Abbott crew thinks.
The truth is, the second grade teacher has been seeing you since the night she went to the casino and bar to blow off some steam after reuniting with Gary to return his things and get her stuff back.
You were at one of the slot machines when the redhead passed by you, laughing.
“What’s so funny, Red?” you asked as you looked up at her.
“You ain’t gonna win no money that way,” the woman stopped in her tracks to tell you. “C’mon. Let me show you how it’s done.”
That night, you stuck by her side as you watched her win thousands of dollars at one table alone, clearing out quite a few men.
It’s late when she finally threw in the towel. She offered to walk you out to you car, and you took her hand in your own.
“So,” you exhaled a small cloud of smoke from the cigarette the two of you were sharing. “What are you gonna do with all that money you just won, pretty lady?”
“Take you out on a date,” Melissa had replied cooly. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven?”
Neither of you looked back.
That was a year and three months ago. While your side of the family knew of your relationship with the teacher (and they absolutely adore her), her crew doesn’t have a single clue of your existence or rather large presence in Melissa’s life- despite the fact that you were now living together and your lives were intertwined.
So whenever anyone at Abbott tells Melissa that they found someone they think she might fancy, she just brushes them off.
“Janine, no offense, but if you think someone is worth dating, I would find them to be-”
“Hey,” Gregory cuts her off.
Melissa just shrugs. “My case in point. Greg, you know I love you like the black son I never had, but you’re boring as hell.”
“Ava, I am not about to go clubbing with you to pick up a man fifteen years my junior,” the redhead rolls her eyes.
“C’mon,” the principal chuckles. “They fun! They’re like energizer bunnies.”
“I barely have the energy to stand and get the remote from the other side of the room,” Melissa retorts as she opens her bottle of iced tea.
“I think you would like him!” Jacob pleads. “He saw your picture and said you were fine.”
“I am fine,” Melissa states, gesturing to her figure. “And I’m just as fine without a partner.”
It’s gotten to the point that even Barbara is concerned about her friend’s adamant denial to get herself back out there. So, the day that Melissa has recess duty, she brings it up to her coworkers.
“Now listen, I am not usually one for meddling in someone else’s love life, but don’t you think it’s concerning that Melissa flat out refuses to even attempt to put herself back out there?” the kindergarten teacher asks to the faculty room.
“Weird as hell,” Ava waltzes in, but having heard the question decides to chime in. “But aye, good for Schemmenti, realizing she don’t need no man in life.”
“I just find it odd…” Barbara taps her chin. “Melissa, while one with a tough exterior, loves love. She’s always wanted someone to spend her time with.”
“Maybe we should stage an intervention,” Jacob suggests. “To really show her that she’s good and healed from the failed proposal and to get back out there.
Gregory looks mildly impressed with that suggestion. “That might work.”
They have no idea that the entire time she’s supposed to be out monitoring the children on the blacktop, she’s smiling down at her phone like an idiot talking to you.
And when she comes home that day, she fully goes through with the things you two had texted about earlier.
The Abbott crew plans an intervention for Melissa- a banner, letters, all of it. When she comes into the staff room, smiling down at a midday text you had sent her, the rest of her colleagues are standing by the couch, looking somber.
“Fuck. Who died?” Melissa’s smile drops immediately.
“No one died, Melissa,” Barbara states.
“But we think a part of you might have,” Janine says dramatically, somberly.
“What the hell are youse talkin’ about?” thee redhead rolls her eyes. 
“Melissa, dear,” Barbara says softly, calmly. She makes her way over to her friend and takes her by the hand to guide her towards the seat they had put in the middle of the room.
One by one, they read the letters that they had all written, expressing their concern for their favorite fiery Italian teacher.
“Melissa,” the kindergarten teacher finishes up. “We all love you dearly, and while we understand that it takes some time to get over the heartache that Gary caused, this is a bit extreme. We are worried.”
“An’ I appreciate the thought and care that you guys put into this,” Melissa tells them with a sigh. “But I promise youse: I’m fine. I don’t need to get back out there.” She almost adds on that it’s because she’s happily seeing someone, and has been since three months after her split from the guy that filled the vending machine.
“Just… know that we’re all here through all of your seasons,” Jacob tells her. “The good, the bad, and the ugly.”
“We do care about you,” Janine says softly, and she offers the redhead a hug. Melissa doesn’t necessarily want to embrace the shorter woman, but she goes into the arms of her colleague.
Gregory just gives her a nod that conveys his love for his coworker, to which she smirks and nods right back in his direction.
“Now, can we eat lunch?” the redhead chuckles.
As the day passes on, Melissa comes to realize just how much her coworkers care for her- their gesture, albeit absolutely ridiculous and dramatic, was heartfelt and full of love. Maybe she should just come clean about the relationship she’s in. Or she could just buy them all some Philly soft pretzels and soda instead to thank them. Yeah… that’s what she’ll do for now before she can talk to you about how the two of you want to go public about your being together.
She orders the pretzels to be delivered to the school before the day is done, and when everyone is reconvening back in the faculty room to grab their lunch bags before heading home, Melissa makes sure she’s the first one down there. She has the box on one of the tables, along with a some cans of soda. Whatever they don’t take, the redhead knows will be eaten and drank at home.
“Oi,” she calls to her friends. “Come get a pretzel and a soda as my thanks for carin’ about me so much.”
They all light up at the sight of the gesture, aside from Gregory.
“I do not like pretzels, or soda, and for that reason I will not take one,” the man says as his friends dive in. “But thank you.”
Melissa rolls her eyes. “I figured you would say that. Which is why I got you a bag of peanuts and a water.”
He looks mildly impressed and takes the offered items gratefully.
Once again, they all voice their love and care for the woman that gave them a salty treat before heading out for the night. Everyone except for Barbara. She waits for Melissa to clean up and gather her things before walking out with the woman.
“That was very sweet of you,” the kindergarten teacher nudges her friend.
Melissa huffs. “Oi. Don’t knock me like that.” She readjusts her grip on the small box of pretzels before sighing. “But it was just a thank you for caring.”
“We care about you a lot more than you know,” Barbara smiles. “And just so you know… you are a Philly eleven, and I do think you should get yourself back out there. I know it can be scary to put your heart back out there, but even if it ends in heartbreak and a few smashed in headlights, I will always be here to help you pick up the pieces.”
“I know, Barb,” the redhead says softly, so out of character. “Thank you.”
“Think about it!” the older woman says as she parts and heads off in the direction of her car.
With a sigh, Melissa unlocks her car and gets everything settled before slumping into the front seat.
Coming home with a treat, she texts you.
Is it you? You reply back.
She chuckles at that. She can practically see the smirk written on your face. You’ll see.
When she pulls in, she can smell you before she sees you. You’re clearing smoking, but she can also smell the delicious dinner that you’re making. 
The redhead makes her way into the house, deep in thought of how much her friends are looking out for her, and attempting to piece together how to approach you about the topic of coming out.
It’s odd. Your girlfriend makes her way into the kitchen and places the box of pretzels down, but she doesn’t make her way over to you the way that she usually does. Instead, she’s looking down at the food, brows furrowed and deep in thought. 
You turn the burner down to ensure that the food won’t burn or bubble over before making your way behind Melissa. You wrap the arm that isn’t holding the joint around her waist before holding it up to her lips and offering her some. Even in your somewhat inebriated state, you know something is up with her.
“You look like you could use this more than me,” you chuckle softly.
She shrugs, but does take a hit before blowing the smoke out.
“Hard day?” you ask her gently. “Need to be taken care of?”
Again, she shrugs. She doesn’t really know what to say. This is so unlike Melissa. Usually, she comes in huffing about the ridiculous antics of her boss, she bounces on her toes when she tells you the sweet things the kids had done or said, and she is more than willing to dish out the tea that was spilled in the staff lounge earlier that day.
“Mel?” you ask softly, taking a cheek in your hand and cupping it gently. You force her to look at you. “What happened today?”
She laughs softly, before full out cackling. This sudden change in mood startles you.
“Mel, babe, you’re scaring me,” you tell her. “What happened?”
She sits down and plucks the joint out of your hand. “The crew planned an intervention for me,” she tells you with a chuckle as you go back over to the stove.
You turn. “Oh?”
She nods, a playful smirk on her face.
“For?” you raise a brow. You turn your attention back to dinner. “Can I guess?”
“Sure, hun,” she laughs as she takes another drag.
  “The aggression that you email the parents with?” No. “The heeled boots hitting the linoleum tile too loudly when you’re pissed?” No. “The arson?” No. “The threats of a bare knuckle fist fight?”
“Jesus,” Melissa laughs. “When you list all of that out, I sound like a terrible person.”
“No,” you say quickly. “I love everything about you!”
“I know you do,” she chuckles. “But no. None of that.”
“Then what?”
“My love life.”
“Your love life?” you turn to look at her incredulously.
“My love life,” the redhead sighs. “They had a banner, they had letters, they had the chair in the middle of the room… everything. And for me. When I don’t even have a problem with my love life.”
“So why did you come in lookin’ all sad?”
“Not sad… just thoughtful. The things they said… it showed me how lucky I am to have coworkers that care for me as deeply as they do. So at the end of the day, I had pretzels for them to show my gratitude. And after, Barbara and I walked out together… and… how would you feel about telling people that we’re together?”
You finish stirring the food and plating it before bringing it over to the table where your girlfriend is sitting. You set the two dishes in front of her before sliding into her lap. You finish off the joint together before smiling.
“I’ve been ready,” you tell her. “I’ve just been waiting for you to be.”
“Yeah?” she asks you as she kisses your temple.
You nod before taking a bite of your dinner. Damn, between the two of you, you should open your own restaurant. “We’ve been together for over a year, living together since six months in, I don’t plan on going anywhere, and I would hope you don’t either. I think it’s time.”
“I think so too,” she says softly. “But with the end of the year comin’ up… we’re all crazy busy.”
“So we can organize something for after the school year?” you suggest. “Maybe a fourth of July barbecue?”
So that’s what the two of you do. Your girlfriend walks into school on the last day and tells her friends that she knows that don’t have anything going on for Fourth of July, and they better be at her house for a barbecue. They all look at her, clearly confused. No one- not even Barb- has been invited over to the house since Melissa and Gary broke up. Nevertheless, they don’t argue and all promise to be there.
They all come in one clump, and the faces that they make when you open the door draped around Melissa are priceless.
“This is my girlfriend, Y/N,” she says proudly. “The reason that I have been declining all of the people you’ve suggested I date, and the reason I have not ‘put myself back out there’. I don’t gotta when I have her.”
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pin-k-ink · 16 hours
Text
masquerade // gojo satoru
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tw ⇢ teacher-student relationship, petnames, sexual tension, teasing, possessive!gojo, jealous sex, rough sex, implied age gap, dirty talk, unprotected sex
wc ⇢ 4.9k
a/n: i headcanon that gojo would definitely fuck his genderbent version
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"No way, there's absolutely no way I'm losing this bet!" you declared, eyes shining with competitive determination.
Gojo simply chuckled, running a hand through his silver hair as he leveled you with an infuriatingly calm look. "We'll see about that, pretty girl. I hope you're prepared to eat those words."
You stuck your tongue out at your mentor in a childish display, ignoring the spark of heat that flared in your belly at his teasing endearment. Squaring your shoulders, you focused back on the task at hand - besting Gojo Satoru in an impromptu cursed tool duel.
The terms had been simple: whoever disarmed or immobilized the other first would get to choose their partner's costume for the upcoming Halloween soiree being thrown at the Kamo Estate. As one of the oldest and most prestigious jujutsu families, their holiday celebrations were always a lavish affair that attracted sorcerers of status from across the region. Needless to say, you were determined to avoid any humiliating outfits by claiming victory.
You circled each other warily, fingers twitching in preparation to summon your respective tools. A bead of sweat trickled down your temple as you tried to predict Gojo's opening move. Despite his perpetually laid-back demeanor, he was a finely honed weapon - powerful, precise and lightning-quick to strike.
Seconds ticked by in tense stillness. Then, without warning, Gojo was a blur of motion, pale hair whipping around his face as he twisted and struck out with one long arm. You threw yourself sideways in a desperate dodge, boots skidding across the training room floor as you pivoted to face him again. But he was already capitalizing on your evasion with a flurry of sharp jabs and slicing arcs, each one guided by a hair's breadth from clipping your defenses.
Cursing, you backpedaled furiously, mind racing to formulate a counterstrategy as you parried and deflected his relentless assault. He was aiming to herd you into an inescapable corner, you realized - a position from which he could use his greater size and strength to pin you effortlessly.
Gritting your teeth, you waited for the precise moment his next overextended swing left the barest opening in his defenses. Then, with every ounce of your cursed power thrumming through your limbs, you twisted and launched yourself into a furious set of combos.
Gojo's eyes widened fractionally as you unleashed everything you had, pushing him back in a dizzying flail of fists, elbows, and knees. You could sense his surprise at the sheer force behind each blow, the speed and fluidity of your combinations leaving him unable to predict the source of your next attack.
For one blazing, triumphant second, you caught a glimpse of victory as you arced into a spinning heel kick aimed squarely at his temple. But then Gojo was there, materializing inside your defenses with that masterful grasp of space and time that made him nigh untouchable. One second you were on the offensive, the next you were crashing into the unforgiving floorboards with a breathless "oof," limbs twisted and cursed tools clattering uselessly away.
"Well now," Gojo purred, looming over your winded form with a satisfied grin. "Looks like I win again, baby girl." His hand was warm and calloused where it encircled your wrist, grip light but unbreakable.
Groaning, you flopped back against the mats in a dramatic display, skin still tingling from your exertions. "That's so not fair," you whined petulantly. "I totally had you on the ropes that time!"
Gojo barked out a laugh, nudging your side with the toe of one shoe. "In your dreams, maybe," he teased. "A good effort though. Maybe next time you'll actually pose a challenge."
Pushing up onto your elbows, you leveled your best glare at the infuriatingly smug man. "You are SO going to regret those words, sensei. Just wait until you see what ridiculous costume I put you in next year!"
His grin widened in a way that made your stomach flip with anticipation. "I'm counting on it, beautiful."
The following week was spent in a whirlwind of preparation as the Kamo Estate staff readied for the biggest event of their social calendar - the annual All Hallows' Eve Masquerade Gala. Gojo, curse him, remained completely unhelpful about his chosen costume, waving off your repeated inquiries with that maddening enigmatic smile of his.
"You'll just have to wait and see," was all he would say, the gleam in his eyes promising delicious torment. "It's going to be a surprise."
And surprise you he did, on the night of the Gala when he finally unveiled your "costume" with a dramatic flourish of cursed energy. Lying innocently on your bed was an all-too-familiar set of clothes - Gojo's signature uniform of a plain white undershirt and billowing black slacks and jacket.
You sputtered incoherently, gesturing between him and the outfit laid out before you. "You cannot be serious!"
But that bastard just grinned back at you, all sharp canines and twinkling mischief. "Oh, I'm dead serious. You wanted an embarrassing costume, pretty girl? Well here it is, in all its glory."
Frantically, you cycled through a dozen different protests and pleading arguments, each of which he deftly waved aside with infuriatingly logical counterpoints. By the time he was done dismantling your defenses, you had no choice but to grumble your capitulation and snatch up the clothes, stomping towards the bathroom to change with as much dignity as you could muster.
"You're going to regret this," you threw over your shoulder with as much venom as you could muster. "Just you wait!"
Once the door clicked shut behind you, however, your feisty attitude melted away into pure girlish giddiness. Sure, wearing your mentor's clothes in public could be considered a bit humiliating. But you'd be lying if you denied how the thought of being surrounded by Gojo's scent, of wearing the same outfit that clung to his broad frame didn't spark a fluttering warmth low in your belly.
Quickly stripping down, you took a moment to appraise the garments with an appreciative eye, fingers trailing over the soft cotton of the undershirt. Even just holding it up to your body, the excess fabric was dwarfing your slender frame adorably. Giddiness mounting, you slipped it on carefully, rolling the cuffs up your forearms.
The fitted white fabric pulled taut across your chest, the sloping vee of the collar frequently slipping off one shoulder to tease at the soft swell of cleavage it created. A possessive thrill shot down your spine as you adjusted it back into place. This shirt, the one that skimmed and hinted at the sculpted planes of Gojo's body, now lovingly outlined the feminine curves it had never been intended to cup so intimately.
Restless heat blossomed under your skin at the thought of him seeing you wearing it later tonight - tousled, practically spilling out in all the right places. Would his gaze linger as unsubtly as yours always did on him? Or would his effortless cool manage to rein in any excessive reaction?
Anticipation began curling tight in your core as you recalled the thousands of lingering, liquid-hot glances you'd exchanged with Gojo over your years of training. The way his stare could scorch across your bare skin, turning mundane movements into something charged and provocative as he drank in your form with ravenous intensity. What you wouldn't give to see that look of blatant male appreciation washing over his handsome features as you showed up in this sinfully snug getup.
Shaking yourself free of the dizzying fantasy, you took a steadying breath before eyeing the slacks with disappointment. As you suspected, they were entirely too loose around your hips and thighs to be flattering. With a frustrated huff, you shimmied out of them, leaving them in a puddle on the floor.
Your gaze landed on a pair of worn but buttery-soft leather boots tucked in the back of your closet. A wicked grin curved your lips as you tugged them on, lacing the tall shafts all the way up to mid-thigh. The supple leather embraced your legs like a second skin, accentuating the toned lines and feminine swell of your calves in a deliciously provocative way.
You barely recognized yourself in Gojo's oversized undershirt paired with those thigh-high boots. Instead of the properly buttoned-up appearance his uniform conveyed on him, you oozed a wanton, edible sort of allure - all tousled hair, stretched cotton, and miles of creamy leg on display. Your mouth went dry imagining how Gojo might react to such a tantalizing twist on his borrowed look.
'Two can play at this game, sensei,' you thought wickedly, eyeing the smolderingly seductive lines and hints of bare skin your borrowed outfit provided.
After securing the jacket, you realized simply styling your own hair wouldn't quite achieve the full Gojo effect you were going for. A sly smile curved your lips as you procured a long, straight white wig from the depths of your costume trunk.
Carefully situating the silky strands, you fluffed and arranged them until they tumbled nearly to your waist in a perfect mimicry of Gojo's signature silver mane. Coupled with the oversized uniform draped over your frame, the full look was startlingly effective.
The only thing missing now was the pièce de résistance. A wicked grin curved your lips as you rooted around in his cupboard to procure a familiar black-framed pair of glasses. Pulling them on, you struck an exaggerated pose, imitating that cocky smirk and calculating squint he so loved to level at you during training.
"Hollow technique: Purple," you growled in a lower register, jabbing an imperious finger into the mirror. "Tch, not even worth the effort."
Giggles bubbled up uncontrollably at your shoddy impersonation. But one glance back at your reflection snuffed the laughter from your throat instantly. Never could you have predicted just how...devastating the whole ensemble would look together.
Raking a heated gaze down your figure, you took in the panels of taut, stretched fabric clinging deliciously to every curve. The alcohol collar and unbuttoned plackets teased at tantalizing swells of cleavage while the cuffed hems allowed teasing flashes of toned legs to peek through. Paired with the untamed silver and signature spectacles, the entire look was pure, potent temptation - a wicked combination of dishevelment and restraint, of masculine and feminine.
You spun and posed, watching in the mirror as the loosened shirttails flared out around your hips, providing glimpses of the black lacy panties painted onto your backside. A rosy flush crept up your throat at the blatant allure, suddenly unsure if you possessed the sheer audacity to debut this ensemble publicly.
A sharp rap at the bathroom door startled you from your reverie. "You about ready in there?" Gojo's husky voice filtered through the wood, sending a shiver of pure sin down your spine. "Or do I need to come in and help get you properly dressed, pretty girl?"
You swallowed hard, breath catching at the dark promise laced through his tone. Was it your imagination, or did he somehow already know the delectable effect his clothes would have draped over your frame? The thought had your blood pounding anew in a heady rush of nervous excitement.
"I'll be right out," you called back, somewhat proud of yourself for keeping your voice steady despite the tremor in your limbs. One last heated glance at the mirror and your reflection was all but searing itself into the backs of your eyelids. If Gojo thought he could torment you further by forcing this depraved twist of a costume upon you, then he had sorely underestimated your own deviant brand of mischief.
Straightening your spine, you threw open the bathroom door and sauntered out wearing every ounce of sordid confidence you could muster. Gojo stood leaned against the wall, arms crossed negligently over that sculpted chest you knew so well from countless clandestine ogling sessions. But the second his visible eye landed on you, his entire body seized up in an unmistakable full-body jolt.
With no small degree of heady satisfaction, you watched distinct shock and something infinitely darker flare across those striking features you admired so profoundly. His stare raked over your figure in a molten sweep, nostrils flaring as he scented the air with unrestrained hunger. And lower, beneath the loose vee of his unbuttoned slacks, you caught the unmistakable twitching of rapidly interested anatomy.
Well well, it seemed turnabout was fair play in the battle of temptation. You offered a simpering smirk, propping one hand on a cocked hip in a move you'd seen him execute a hundred times - legs shifting just enough to highlight the pleasant distraction at his groin.
"Like what you see...sensei?" The endearment dripped from your tongue like poisoned honey as you tracked his body's visceral reaction. "I modeled it pretty closely after the real thing, don't you think?"
A tremor rocked through his deceptively relaxed stance as the full implications sank in, gaze darkening perceptibly when you toyed with the fabric riding up your thighs. Slowly, he drank you in from tousled crown all the way down to where his shirttails brushed teasingly over the bottom of your ass before slashing back up in another unhurried glide of naked appreciation.
The heavy weight of his undisguised desire washed over you in dizzying waves, stoking the tendrils of challenge and want already suffusing your bloodstream. You felt powerful in a way you rarely allowed yourself to embrace - beautiful and profoundly sensual under the searing brand of Gojo's attention.
"You look..." he started roughly, pupils blown wide before Adam's apple bobbed in a harsh swallow. "Sinful," he finally rasped, the single syllable loaded with enough molten promise to scorch. "Absolutely fucking sinful, pretty girl."
A punched-out gasp slipped free at the blatant admission, need guttering low and hot in your pussy. Bold, you took one pointed step closer, until the fabric of his borrowed jacket brushed softly against his abdomen. The tips of your breasts skated lightly across the clean lines of his chest as you leaned in, mouth brushing his ear in a ghosting caress.
"So do something about it, sensei," you growled, nails raking lightly down the front of his shirt. "Show me how sinful you want to be."
For one tremulous heartbeat, you thought he might actually give in to the simmering tension and haul you bodily against him right then and there. His jaw flexed tellingly, fingers flexing at his sides as muscles coiled for action. But then he blew out a long, shuddering breath, spine straightening as the burning intensity blinked out behind his lids.
"Don't tempt me, baby," he rasped in a low purr, tone thick with sinful promise that had your knees quaking. One large, calloused palm cupped your jaw reverently, angling your face up towards his in a searing look of abject want. "I'm only a man, and you look good enough to eat in that little getup."
He allowed his thumb to drag slowly over the plush swell of your lower lip, gaze riveted while you instinctively parted on a shuddery inhale. Your senses swam with the woodsy undercurrent of his cologne, the scorching heat of skin and muscle thrumming just beyond reach.
"But sadly, we have somewhere to be tonight," Gojo continued, voice pitched quieter yet somehow infinitely more powerful in your close proximity. His eyes raked over you again, taking in the way his shirt barely contained your curves and how you'd opted to forgo the slacks.
Instead, a pair of wicked black leather boots laced all the way up to the middle of your thighs framed your bare legs deliciously. He groaned low in his throat at the sight of so much skin on display, gaze heating further when he noticed the full, straight silver wig cascading nearly to your waist in a perfect mimicry of his hairstyle.
"And if I started getting a taste of you now...well, I wouldn't be able to stop. Not until I'd thoroughly ruined you for the rest of the night's events."
Your mouth went bone dry as graphic imaginings of his sinful promise ricocheted across your consciousness. Unconsciously, your tongue flicked out to wet your lips, silently imploring his thumb to dip between them, to caress heated skin and let you suckle on the rough pad.
But Gojo simply grinned wolfishly, knowing far too well the images he'd conjured behind your hooded gaze. "Easy there, pretty girl," he crooned, all indulgent heat and dark delight. "Soon enough you can have all the punishment you can handle. First though, we have to attend a party."
In an effort to regain some scrap of composure, you cleared your throat, ignoring the shaky rasp. "I'm not sure I can pull off that hair," you countered weakly, reaching up to attempt taming the silver strands. To your utter dismay, Gojo's hand shot out and clamped around your wrist, effortlessly thwarting your movements.
God, he couldn't get over the delicious recreation of his look - the fitted shirt straining at the buttons, those long, lean legs accentuated by the knee-high leather...it was as if he'd been stripped bare and repackaged as the most tantalizing, irresistible version of himself imaginable.
"Don't," he commanded, voice dropping into that smooth, spine-tingling bass that infallibly left you aching and molten. His free hand wound through the tousled locks, mussing them further into resembling his artfully mussed style. "Leave it just like this. Every time I glance over, I want to be reminded of how utterly delicious you look in my clothes. So very pretty for me."
A delirious sound punched out of your core at his gravelly praise, knees going watery at the second heady rush of promised debauchery glimmering in those devilish blue eyes. God, how you burned to give in and let him utterly wreck you right then and there. But the iron bands of his behemoth self-control held firm.
"Now then," he practically growled, punctuating the words with a scorching press of bodies, "I believe we have a party to attend? Hmm, pretty girl?"
You managed a shaky nod, delirious with wanting. How much longer could you keep dancing around this undeniable inferno?
At the Gala, every eye was instantly trained on you from the moment you arrived on Gojo's arm. You could feel the weight of hungry stares caressing your body as you moved through the crowd, taking in your blatant mimicry of Gojo's look from the glossy wig to the clinging shirt. More than one leering partygoer let their gaze linger just a bit too long on the exposed expanses of thigh and cleavage.
For his part, Gojo seemed to bask in the absolute chaos you were causing. One broad palm never left the small of your back, possessively guiding you through the throngs of people while sending a clear message to any who dared approach - this pretty little thing belonged to him.
And oh, how you reveled in his proprietary attitude. Something low and wicked in your core thrilled to be so openly claimed, desired with such naked ferocity in front of all these esteemed strangers. Gojo's intense stare scarcely left you for more than a few seconds, tracking your every move with a heated focus that bordered on predatory.
More than once, you slanted a sultry glance in his direction, lower lip caught between your teeth as you preened shamelessly under his ravenous regard. His visible eye would instantly darken to cobalt, jaw ticking with barely restrained hunger before he forcibly dragged his attention back to whatever politician or clan head was fawning for his attention.
"Down, boy," you purred at one point, leaning in so your pouty murmur brushed hot against the shell of his ear. "Don't make me put you in timeout, sensei."
The low, guttural rumble that punched out of Gojo's chest sent delicious frissons of heat licking through your veins. You giggled privately at how his fingers flexed against your hip, thumb rubbing distracting little circles into the jut of bone.
"Oh I'll show you time out," he growled back through a smile placid enough to fool the nobles milling nearby. "Just wait until I get you alone later, pretty girl. I'm going to teach you all about punishment."
A full-body shudder rocked through you at the dark promise, nipples pebbling painfully beneath the thin cotton. Every nerve was alight with giddy anticipation at what delicious retribution Gojo might have in store for your cheekiness.
Your little game of teasing cat and mouse continued in that vein for most of the evening. He would pin you with those unholy bedroom eyes, gaze dropping conspicuously to the shadows hinting at your body's secrets beneath the too-small uniform. In retaliation, you'd arch into him with a sugary innocent expression, reveling in the way his pupils would blow wide and his breath would stutter over a barely perceptible growl. The heated charge between you grew thicker and headier with every tortuous brush of skin and wicked murmur exchanged.
Eventually, it all became too much for even Gojo's formidable restraint. You were draped over one of the antique sofas, legs crossed in a way that allowed the rumpled white shirt to slip rakishly up your thighs, when he suddenly materialized before you like a force of nature.
His large hand encircled your bare ankle in a scalding grip as piercing blue eyes bored into yours from behind the familiar black frames. You shivered at the mute intensity of his stare, that intoxicating aura of power and sin rolling off him in waves as he slowly, inexorably dragged you upright and flush against his chest.
"That's it, pretty girl," he rasped into the heated hollow beneath your ear. The words were velvet soft yet laced with enough dominant possession to have you melting against his solid frame. "I've been more than patient with you all night. But enough is enough - you've tested every last ounce of control I have."
You shuddered violently as his mouth grazed your jaw in a hot, openmouthed glide. "Sensei..." you whimpered, not even sure what you were pleading for anymore.
"Shh, I've got you," he murmured, a scorching palm settling at the small of your back to guide you through the gawking crowd. "Time to go, baby. You and I have a... private lesson to attend."
Somewhere beyond the thudding rush of arousal, you recognized the distinct clearing of throats and murmured whispers from the nearby guests as you allowed Gojo to propel you towards the exits. But it was impossible to care when he was caging you against him with such blatant feral intent, muscles locked into coiling restraint like a panther poised to pounce on its prey.
The cool night air hit your overheated skin like a slap once you stumbled outside. Gojo didn't so much as pause before scooping you up into his arms in a bridal carry, cursed energy already whipping around you in preparation to activate his Infinite Void technique.
"Hold on tight, pretty girl," he warned, the normally gentle rumble of his voice pitched low enough to send molten heat shearing through your core. "This may get...intense."
And with that, the entire world collapsed in on itself until there was nothing but the whisper of energy across your nerve-endings and the solid warmth of Gojo's body wrapped around you as the in-between rushed past in a blur.
You materialized seconds later in your dormitory suite, Gojo already stalking towards the bedroom with you cradled to his chest. He kicked the door shut with a deafening bang before throwing you onto the mattress with enough force to bounce you enticingly.
Chest heaving, you pushed up onto your elbows to drink in the sight of him looming over the foot of the bed - hair tousled into glorious disarray, shirt disheveled and straining against his broad frame, eyes burning with naked sin and untempered hunger. He looked like some kind of depraved avenging angel, utterly devastating in his authority and desire.
"Do you have any idea," he growled, prowling closer like a predator scenting its prey, "what you've put me through tonight with that little act of yours?"
A shocked squeak fled your lips as one large hand fisted in the loose hair of your wig, yanking just harshly enough to expose the vulnerable line of your throat. Gojo took greedy advantage of your arched position, dipping down to lave hot, filthy kisses along the thundering pulse point as you writhed beneath him.
"All evening, I've been surrounded by the scent of you in my clothes," he rasped against your slick skin, free hand already dragging the shirt up to divest you of the flimsy material. You arched eagerly into his frantic touches, nails scoring paths down the quivering muscles of his back as his lips continued branding every inch of bare flesh.
"That sweet, pretty little body of yours wrapped up to look just like me. All decked out in black and white and silver...fuck, you're lucky I didn't bend you over in front of everyone at the party and take what's mine!"
A desperate keen reverberated from your very bones at the graphic suggestion, hips straining upwards instinctively to grind against the rigid cock already pressing into your soaked pussy. Gojo rewarded the involuntary motion with a punishingly deep grind of his own, dragging the luxurious slide of cotton over your swollen clit and leaving you boneless and gasping.
"Is that what you wanted, baby?" he rumbled darkly, nipping your ear with blunt teeth. "To make me lose control and defile you in front of all those poor, unsuspecting fools?"
You could only whine in response, beyond coherent speech at this point. Rough hands shoved the hem of his shirt up to bare your chest, bunching the fabric over your ribcage as Gojo settled onto his knees between your splayed thighs. Cool air ghosted over your feverish skin for only a moment before his mouth enveloped one taut nipple in an all-encompassing scald.
It was like the last floodgate had opened, finally allowing the pent-up tension thrumming between you to surge free in an unstoppable flood. You dissolved into a litany of shameless sounds - moans and whimpers and breathy curses that only seemed to goad Gojo on further. Soon the bedroom filled with the filthy sounds of devoured kisses, skin slapping on skin, and flesh stretching to desperate accommodation around the punishing thrusts into your convulsing body.
Over and over again, he hilted himself inside your drenched cunt with enough force to slide your sweat-slicked bodies up the rumpled sheets. Wave after wave of blinding, throbbing pleasure eroded the last remnants of sense until your entire universe narrowed to the mouthwatering play of chiseled muscle and tendon as he hovered over you. You couldn't get enough of his harsh grunts, the deeper-than-sin rasp of his voice crooning debauched praises and sinful promises against your fevered skin.
"That's it, just like that, baby girl," he ground out as your nails scored down his back hard enough to sting. "Open up nice and pretty for your sensei. Going to absolutely fucking ruin you for anyone else after I'm done."
The very thought sent electric sparks arcing straight to your clenching pussy, throat already rubbed raw from howling your rapture into the quiet night. There was nothing recognizable left in your voice as you chanted his name like a benediction, uncaring of how the whole dormitory might hear your shameless cries while Gojo robbed you of any last shred of composure.
His hips snapped in a final few deep, piston-like drags before stilling with a full-bodied shudder. The feeling of him painting your fluttering pussy in thick, virile streaks of cum finally triggered your own cresting climax. You shattered around him with a ragged wail, arching wildly as exquisite pulses of lightning ricocheted out in tingling waves to your fingertips and curling toes.
Boneless and limp as a ragdoll, you lay there soaked in the glorious aftermath. Gojo blanketed you with his weight, his breath rasping hotly over your sweat-dampened skin, lips tracing sluggish patterns in their comedown. Neither of you moved for long stretches, simply existing in the tranquil silence of that sacred, sated space.
Finally, Gojo pulled back just enough to free his arms and gather you carefully into his embrace. You hummed out a contented sound, burrowing shamelessly into the solid comfort of his chest while clever fingers worked the constricting knots out of your wig until the heavy silver strands cascaded freely onto the pillows.
"You," he started, pausing to clear his throat and collect his scattered thoughts, "are going to be the absolute death of me one day, pretty girl."
The words were fond instead of chastising as he pressed lingering closed-mouth kisses into your hairline. You smiled against the corded expanse of his throat.
"Promise?" you murmured cheekily, arching up to ghost your lips across the strong column of muscle. A low groan rumbled against your mouth at the blatant provocation.
"Mark my words," Gojo growled, rolling you both until he loomed over your pliant, wrecked body once more. This time though, his touch was barely-there, gentle, almost worshipful as he traced the scattered constellation of marks blooming across your damp skin. "By the time I'm through with you, you won't be able to so much as look at another set of clothes without thinking of me, of how thoroughly I'm going to take you apart and put you back together again."
The heated storm in your blood kick-started anew at his dangerous tone, goosebumps prickling in the wake of his maddening caress. There was no doubt in your racing heart that this deliciously sinful man would make good on every last lurid implication behind those words. And you couldn't wait.
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thehighladywrites · 4 months
Text
— “ an unexpected twist ”
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⋆˙⟡ pairing: professor eris vanserra x reader, part 3
⋆˙⟡ summary: you spend every weekend at eris’s mansion, what happens this time? Who is Eris Vanserra and how come he is so rich on a professors salary? GASP A PLOT TWIST
⋆˙⟡ warnings: mentions of smut, tw talks of beron vanserra🤢, abusive childhood, eris dropping huge stacks of money on you, eris channeling his inner sugar daddy, you call him daddy for the first time ever, mentions of an unalive body.
⋆˙⟡ amara’s note: i’m not going to lie the plot twist is either a banger or the messiest thing i’ve ever written (pls be a banger)
part 1, part 2
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In the gentle morning light, you lay there in his bed, your lover's bed, serenely unaware of him, enchanted by the sight of you.
Eris had been awake for hours, yet the idea of leaving the cocoon of your warmth never crossed his mind. He marveled at the sheer luck of having someone as incredible as you in his life.
Last night, he came to the realization that he had started to feel mushy and in love with you. The thought still rattled him, and he couldn't shake the slight wariness that you held the power to influence his feelings.
Feelings, thoughts, and open discussions were never entertained in the Vanserra household. Eris and his brothers had been raised by their abusive father, who subjected them to verbal, physical, and emotional abuse. Their father manipulated them into accepting and believing whatever suited his agenda.
Through the passing years, Eris had finely tuned his act as the heartbreakingly cold and scornful eldest son. The mask of cruelty clung to him so persistently that he found himself questioning if it was a facade or a painful reflection of his true self.
When his old man kicked the bucket, Eris felt like a ton of bricks was off his back – turns out, it was just an act. Now, with the nosy observer out of the picture, he went all out decorating his room, something he couldn't do growing up. At firat he felt stupid for being happy about being able to change his room because it was something so normalized but he realized how much it healed his inner child. No more walking on eggshells; he could finally kick back. Where did he celebrate his first taste of freedom? The same bar where he first bumped into you.
Grinning at the notion, Eris not only shed a heavy burden but also welcomed newfound brightness into his life. He was determined not to mess things up in any way.
Fully aware that his actions were objectively wrong, Eris couldn't muster the will to change course. He had succumbed to love, a fertile ground for obsession. While he concealed that side for now, he knew it would eventually surface.
The gentle stir in his arms brought Eris back to the present. A warm feeling enveloped his heart as he looked down at you, tenderly running his fingers through your hair, savoring the sweet moment.
Bending down, Eris pressed a gentle kiss on your head, catching the sweet aroma of the strawberry-scented shampoo you insisted he use. Amused by the fact that his hair had never been smoother, he looked at you with a smile.
“Good morning, sweetheart. Want to do something fun today?” he suggested.
Excited, you sat up straight, a huge grin on your face, eager for some fun. When you asked him what he had in mind, Eris leaned in, maintaining eye contact, and handed you a black card with a hint of mystery.
“Go crazy,” he smirked, settling in with his glasses, preparing to read the book laying on the nightstand.
You stared at the black card and then at him. The question lingered – how did a professor end up with a black card? Weren't those reserved for big spenders and invite-only privileges?
“There's no need to be shy, love. Ask whatever it is you want to ask,” he reassured you, a knowing smile playing on his lips. Your cheeks warmed at how well he seemed to know you.
“How are you so rich? I mean, no offense, but I thought professors and teachers weren’t really that... well-off,” you inquired, genuine curiosity in your voice.
“I'm not only a professor, beautiful. I worked at my father’s company before he passed, and now I’m the owner and the CEO. Teaching is just a side job,” he explained, shedding light on his financial standing.
“Oh, I didn’t expect that. So what do you do?” you asked.
“Investment banking,” he replied quickly, not seemingly open to having a conversation about it.
You didn’t really know what that meant but you also really didn’t care. He had money and you were gonna spend it.
“Huh, okay. Does that mean I can buy whatever I want?” you tilted your head at him, a teasing expression on your face with slightly raised eyebrows.
“You can buy whatever you want. Start off by adding the card to your Apple Pay wallet. I want to pay for whatever it is you need. Don’t worry about anything anymore, my love.”
He kissed your forehead, and the gesture made your vision slightly blurry. Eris took such good care of you, and the desire to make him proud lingered in your heart. Wanting to lightheartedly joke with him you tell him how much he reminds you of a dominating sugar daddy.
“Yeah? A dom sugar daddy, huh? How about you come here and give me something sweet, then?”
His taunting voice almost turned your brain to mush. This dynamic was entirely new and felt amazing. Eris embodied a provider, protector, and lover, all in one. No more worrying about the bare minimum or small things – he treated you like a queen. Unlike people your age, he didn't play games or ask for something in return for his gestures; it was a standard for him, a refreshing change.
You were well aware that Eris's fucking would leave you in need of a nap, so you decided to playfully tease him now, saving the rest for later.
“I promise to give you something real sweet after I’m done shopping, daddy.”
Damn. You knew you should’ve saved it for later. The man grabbed your giggling form and quickly turned it into moans, whimpers and sobs.
Obviously and sadly you couldn’t go outside together and shop so you had to order things online, but it was fine because it was so much more convenient this way. With a few clicks, your numerous packages arrived. Was it rude to order so much on someone else’s card? Hmm… maybe for regular people, but not for you. The man had a black card aka no fucking limit. You could buy literally anything and it would go through. So you did what any sane person with an unlimited budget did.
You shopped your ass off.
Clothes, makeup, skincare, books – you turned his doorstep into a glam runway. Nails, lashes, hair appointments – basically, you scheduled a spa day for yourself via delivery. Waxes, new phone case, upgraded computer – you were basically giving your whole life a makeover. Better shoes, nicer bag – You didn't just shop; you leveled up your entire wardrobe.
When you saw the damage of your shopping spree in his living room your cheeks heated as you looked at him with an apologetic smile.
But Eris wasn’t mad, not in the slightest. There was truly no better feeling than being able to spoil you. He loved your facial expressions when you saw something that caught your eye, loved the way your eyes sparkled when you saw a cute piece of jewelry that you just had to have. Your unapologetic way of spending his money was such a turn on for him. You sure showed him how much you appreciate him…
The weekend with Eris was almost over, and the thought of going back to school didn't sit well with you. Being with him felt comfortable and safe, away from potentially judgmental eyes and consequences. Now, you had to act like he's just another professor, dealing with thirsty whispers from fellow students that made your fists tighten. And don't get started on Professor Jensen – despite your warnings, she still managed to hover around Eris. Guess you’d just prove your words weren’t just words and that being around Eris would give her consequences. The return to the school routine felt like a looming storm, and you weren't looking forward to it.
You voiced your concerns to him and he gave you comfort and promised that you’d be spending more time with each other next weekend and all weekends forward.
After your final night routine, you fall asleep together, finding comfort and warmth in each other's embrace. The room quieted down, and your drift off into a peaceful slumber.
However, the peace was short-lived. Hearing a muffled thud, you attempted to snuggle closer to Eris, only to find his heated presence absent. Sitting up, you assumed he might be in the bathroom. As minutes passed without his return, worry crept in, and the realization hit you – you had grown accustomed to his warmth, and now, sleep seemed impossible without him by your side.
You got a blanket and wrapped it around you, got into the fuzzy slipper he got you and went to look for him.
Shirtless, Eris stood there, speaking harshly into his phone. Another male voice emanated from the speaker, filled with concern and fear.
“I won't repeat myself. The deal happens tomorrow night, or you will face consequences. Inquire with your father. Oh, wait, that’s right, you can't.”
Eris's voice turned taunting and cruel, unlike the playful teasing you were familiar with. This was a cold demeanor you hadn't seen before, a stark departure from the Eris you had grown accustomed to.
“Eris?”
His entire body froze, not expecting to see you awake. He prayed to every god and whatever people prayed to these days that the man on the phone didn't hear your voice. Because there was no telling what he’d do if he found out Eris had a weak spot. He reminded the man of what he said and hung up before turning around and going back into the warm Eris you knew.
“What are you doing up, princess? It's 2 in the morning,” he smiled so warmly and softly at you, it nearly made you forget your words.
“I couldn’t sleep without you. What’s going on? You sounded angry, is everything okay?”
He looked at you with tenderness, grabbing your cheeks before kissing you softly.
“It was just one of my employees at the company who had been slacking off a bit. Don’t worry about me, my love. Let’s get you back to bed.”
You nodded at him, lifting your arms in a sleepy gesture for him to lift you up. With a chuckle and no difficulty, he complied.
Eris cradled your head in the crook of his neck, strategically shielding your view. Unbeknownst to you, his men worked silently in the background, discreetly cleaning up the dead body. He fervently prayed that your drowsiness kept you oblivious to the grim details.
Crossing his fingers, Eris also hoped the presence of his gun on the nearby table escaped your notice in the dimly lit room.
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