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luvv4choso · 9 days

Note

HIIIIIIII!!! I was wondering if you could do Aizawa x student!reader?? Ik you don't normally write anything but JJK but i rlly like ur writing and would js love to see you make this. 💐TYSM BABESSS ^^

DARLING CAN I BE YOUR FAVORITE?

[•~teacher!aizawa x student!reader SMUT !!~•]

[•~synopsis: aw man you failed another test, guess you'll have to fuck your hot teacher.~•]

[•~a/n: i tried my best anon !! js for you, and keep sending in request ppl :D ~•]

"heeey eraser!!" present mic squeals, rushing into the classroom. aizawa looks back at the yellow haired male, obviously fed up with all his bullshit. "whatcha doin?-" eraser mic asks, dragging a chair next to aizawa, not noticing the students were taking a test.

"grading papers"aizawa replies, not paying any attention to the yellow haired individual who was interrupting his class.. present mic looks across the room, admiring all the students and just taking on the sight of the future generation of heroes. "shouldn't you be-" aizawa begins, soon cut off by present mics loud and obnoxious voice "Ooo, this class looks promising shouta, whose ya favorite?"

aizawa rolls his eyes, "don't have any. I don't like picking favorites." he says firmly. present mic is slightly baffled at his response, "really? if I could pick a favorite, I think id pick that red haired kid- actually no wait maybe the green haired one but-" present mic continues to babble on and on to aizawa. who was very obviously tuning him out.

as the bell rings, you watch all the other kids leave the classroom. all giggling and chattering about their plans for the weekend. they all seemed so busy in their conversations, so busy that they didn't notice you were staying back, which was perfect.

as soon as the last person exits the room you walk over towards aizawa. a sly smirk creeping up on your lips. "you said you needed to talk to me?" aizawa places the stack of papers he was grading down, on the table, he leans back in his chair. eyes fixed on you and your figure. "you failed another test, y/n." he says coldly, "and I hope you remember our little deal, hm?" he asks, tapping on his desk, signaling you to come sit.

"how could I forget..." you mumble sitting down on the table, watching as the black haired man approaches you. he was emotionless and rough looking. but you knew deep down he was just as excited for this as you were.

he stands in front of you, in between your legs, and he lifts your chin up with his hands. he stares down into your eyes, "bet you failed on purpose too... didn't you? fucking slut" he mumbles before crashing his lips on yours, you feed back into the kiss, the intensity and passion increasing. aizawa's hands sneakily begin to grope your tits through the fabric of your uniform, caressing them with his rough hands. making you let out breathy moans.

aizawa continues to sloppily kiss you as he begins to unbutton your top, your moans only making his cock harder. you could feel his bulge against your thighs. aizawa pulls away from the kiss, looking down at you with hazy eyes, he places your uniform top on his chair, leaving you in your bra.

he gives your breasts a tight squeeze, admiring the way they bounced. you let out a sharp cry from the sensation. "so pretty f'me aren't you sweetheart?" he coos, hands reaching to your bra's clasp, quickly unclasping it. he throws your bra across the room and leans you back slowly, making sure not to hurt you.

as you lay back down you can feel aizawa playing with your nipples, his finger grazing the surface. he watched as you would squirm more and more whenever he went harsher. aizawa then places one of them in his mouth, tongue swirling all over your nipple. you gasp at the sensation and place a hand in his hair. you can feel the wet patch in your panties grow as he continues to play with you.

his hand reaches towards your other nipple, making sure to give it attention too. he squeezes it lightly as he sucks on your other tit. you let out soft moans as you feel the sensations overtake you. "thought you didn't like pickin favorites?" you mutter, voice shaky and hoarse. aizawa responds by squeezing your nipple harshly, a muffled mumble leaving his lips which sounded like a "shut up..."

soon enough aizawa also gets your skirt off, leaving you in your panties. he lifts both of you legs onto his shoulders, pressing his bulge against the wet patch on your panties. you let out a mewl at the feeling of his clothed cock pushed up on you. "see what ya do to me pretty girl? fuck- I could do this all day..." he groans, grinding against the wetness seeping through your panties.

aizawa hastily unbuckles his belt, and slides his pants and boxers off. freeing his long dick. a soft sigh leaves your lips at the sight. you had fucked aizawa a couple times before but still, his long shaft always surprised him and made you crave him even more. "look at m'pretty girl, so mesmerized by my cock, it's okay sweetheart you'll get it soon..." he pushes your panties to the side, aligning himself with your hole.

"c'mon sweetheart y'know what you gotta do now..." he hums, tucking hair behind your ears. "aizawa... pleaseee" you whine, hands reaching for his hips. aizawa slaps your clit, making you jolt back "y'know damn well that isn't good enough, beg for it like the dirty bitch you are." he demands sharply.

"p-please daddy, need your cock so badly..." you mewl, you didn't care how stupid you sounded, you had one thing on your mind right now. and you needed him badly. aizawa smirks slyly and whispers "anything for my girl..." and he pushes his cock in. you both let out content moans and groans as you feel each other.

he lets you adjust to his size before ramming himself in and out of you, your slick coating his cock fully. "so fuckin wet f'me, baby..." he groans, hands gripping on your hips. his pace was so quick and rough, just the way you liked it. his hips bucked into you without any mercy.

"you're so slutty for this, fuckin ya teacher just to raise your grades? dirtyass slut." he mocks, pushing your thighs closer to your chest, his shaft abusing your cunt even deeper now. you let out sobs and cries from all the pressure, the feeling of his leaky tip constantly hitting your cervix. you were in pure bliss.

aizawa admires the sweet noises, both your mouth and cunt makes. he could feel the way your walls would tighten around him with each thrust he gave, signaling you were close. he looks back up at your face, you looked so dazy and lost. babbling about how good you felt, so cock drunk you couldn't even speak correctly. aizawa chuckles at the state you were beneath him. "we just started pretty girl, don't tell me yer already too fucked out-" he teased.

his calloused fingers start trailing down to your clit, rubbing soft circles on it, as aizawa begins to feel his own orgasm creeping up on him. the pressure on your clit makes you yelp out with pleasure, the familiar knot in your stomach tightening at a hasty pace.

your walls sucked in his cock snuggly, aizawa knew you were on the brink of your orgasm. "c'mon baby, tell me who fucks you the best..." he grunts, his voice hoarse and raspy. his words simply didn't register in your brain, all you could focus on was the release that was building up in you. aizawa slaps your clit again, his voice harsh and demanding "answer m'fuckin question slut. who fuck you the best?"

you jolt up at his words, "y-you do daddy!! you do!!" you mewl, a sob leaving your lips as you cry out from the harsh orgasm you just endured. aizawa felt your liquid wash all over his shaft, which was enough to bring him to the brink of an orgasm. he pulls out of you quickly. and begins jerking himself off quickly, hot strings of semen decorating your stomach. you both let out heavy pants of satisfaction. "made such a big mess pretty girl, let's clean up okay?" he affirms, helping you back up.

#mha x reader #my hero academia #anon ask #send anons #aizawa x reader #eraserhead #aizawa #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa smut #mha smut #bnha #bnha smut

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alle-ni · 7 months

Text

My thoughts about goodomensverse (I'm clinically insane) (my personal opinion) (long post)

Book Crowley:

- absolute disaster

- lonely boy

- grumpiest

- he's so in love with Aziraphale but didn't even realised yet

- a bit dumb sometimes ngl

- very tired

- he's trying so hard save earth and everything he knows but everytime he tries to explain why it's always AZIRAPHALE

- sometimes he's like... your old gay uncle, the old gay uncle of the family except it's a 6000 years old gender fluid demon

- HISS LIKE A SNAKE GANG

- got called dear once and them died (figuratively)

Radio Crowley:

- flirty

- "Humm have you ever seen me in a dress~~??"

- he's like flirting with Aziraphale 24/7

- 0 patience this man is a BOMB

- if Aziraphale ever EVER got slightly flirty with him back he will EXPLODE

- smartest of them all, he's very intelligent

- HISS LIKE A SSSSSNAKE GANG

- he's so in love with Aziraphale and it makes him SO FRUSTRATED

- his Aziraphale is the hardest one to reach, maybe this is why he's so deliberately obvious and direct with him (he's resilient, he will never give up)

- he's like a tsudere teenager collegial except he's a 6000 years old demon with serious issues

- not called dear yet poor soul </3

TV Crowley:

- SILLY

- he's the dumbest of them all, sorry 😭

- red hair

- he's so in love with Aziraphale and everyone notice it's SO OBVIOUS

- he's the most affected by The Bookshop Burning ™ event

- the only one who got to kiss the angel, good for him ig, or sorry, idk

- anxiety bomb he literally (literally) EXPLODE

- strongest soldier bc his Aziraphale is IMPOSSIBLE

- got dumped 2 times more than the others someone pls help him

- the most brave tho

- doesn't hiss a lot :/ free him from this madness let him hiss

- he's like a puppy with giant yellow eyes except it's a 6000 years old snake demon that lies all the time

- protective as hell this man wouldn't let anyone near Aziraphale if possible

- got called dear but at what cost??????????????

Book Aziraphale:

- Anxious all the time, religious trauma except the god is your father and he left you and never talk to you again and the guard angels are your siblings and they want you do be dead

- He's so soft he wants so bad to comfort Crowley but he's really hard to reach

- his Crowley is the most difficult of all of them, he needs to circle him a lot to get in touch

- this man got called names so often I don't think he even cares anymore

- he's very nerdy

- he's the calmest of them all

- really chill

- everyone is so mean to him for no reason

- he has 1 braincell tbh and it's really bad bc his Crowley is not that brilliant too they're both stupid sometimes

- he really REALLY wants to be with Crowley and Crowley only, he sounds almost obligated to be with heaven

- he is really kind to others even when they don't deserve

- he called Crowley dear once and then implode

Radio Aziraphale:

- full of himself

- bastard

- the most closed and oblivious of them all

- he tries to play cool with Crowley all the time (he's slowly getting insane and someday he will jump on this man)

- he's the most self sufficient one he barely holds on Crowley to anything and they're pretty independent

- Crowley can say shit like "Miss me angel~~??" and he would keep a bored face and not react at all (he screamed with the walls 4 hours later)

- he's also a tsudere collegial but he at least try to look cool and composed in public

- he's the Aziraphale that most believes in heaven, he's sure they are good and selfless and the right side

- he's not so brilliant tbh but he got a lot of spirit

- the most active Aziraphale ?? He really put his hand in the dirt and do the things alone

- the most angry and bad tempered of them all, bro scream "WE ARE CLOSED LOOK AT THE DAMN SIGN" when ppl barely touch the bookshop door

- he has a lot of patience with Crowley, not deserved tbh bc he thinks it's his personal job to get in Aziraphale's nerves

- overall he is polite

- he's really proud of their "arrangement" there not only one chance he let go without saying that

- he likes to provoke Crowley sometimes too but not as much as the other way around

- if he ever call Crowley dear he will explode

TV Aziraphale:

- bitchiest

- this man need to be sedated what the fuck Aziraphale

- most nuts of then all he's CRAZY

- he's the most up to do shit with Crowley they're insane together

- he doesn't let Crowley rest he is flirting and being cute and hitting on Crowley all the time

- he's so obviously in love with Crowley its embarrassing

- he's the fruitiest he's the entire salad

- the most... indulgent, if I can say, of them all

- more like an employer of heaven, different of book Aziraphale

- he's the only one with almost white hair

- he got kissed but at what cost

- he's the most intelligent of all of them how can he be this dumb

- he loves little things about earth and humans and life and he seems to be the Aziraphale that most love EARTH itself, like, the life, the humans, the food, the little pleasures we have, the little time of happiness we have between all the shit that is happening... he really loves humans <3

- he's conflicted about heaven, he seems to know that there's something WRONG with how heaven works but still doesn't understand what exactly it is

- "oh but saving me makes him soooo happyyyy~~~"

- overall kind and sweet, in a excited way

#good omens #good omens 2 #aziracrow #crowley #Aziraphale #radio omens #good omens radio #good omens book #thats my opinion #more like some thoughts i have been collecting since im hearing radio omens #not really accurate #does this count as character study????#lol I think not #maybe i have a preference for radio Aziraphale i wrote so much more about him and ended up erasing it all bc it made me look insane #shit its 2 am I'm so sleepy

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mamayan · 9 months

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Oh em gee can I request, Yan! geto? I was thinking with a reader whose like a black magic witch??queen barely talks to anyone and seems like some high class cunt but rlly she's lives in a forest in some hit with a couple cats and stuff, and like when she actually talks to ppl she's really nice actually.. And also she dresses gothy too,,thank you for your time!!💗💗

Hi Anon !💗 I am so down for this! I’m already ready for October at this point. I’ve redone this like 3x already and still am not completely satisfied. Either it’s too wordy and badly balanced with the smut or too much smut not balanced with your request. I hope this satisfies~ maybe I’ll make a longer fic for Geto because I genuinely like him.

Yandere Geto x “Witch” Sorcerer Reader

CW: Yandere Themes•NSFW•Suguru Geto is already mentally ill, so I’m honestly not portraying him too inaccurately•Death (Geto murders a lot of people)•Kidnapping•Dub-con•Forced Relationship•Breeding Kink•Baby Trapping!

Pretty

It was just a passing thought in his mind. Not truly processing much as he stares blankly at the empty rail car, save for a girl sitting quietly at the other end. Her face stoic and impassive, eyes set outside at the passing scenery. Eye catching makeup dark, all black clothing seemingly tailored, and overall appearance somewhat spoiled looking. She looked like a doll one might find in an old antique store that’s cursed.

Yet not a whiff of cursed energy flowed off her.

The tracks are loud, the old rail system likely never been upgraded since it’s manufacture date. The pretty girl dressed as if attending a king’s funeral seemed completely aloof to the world around her. Geto was beside himself as he felt his normally foggy mind clear for a moment as he blatantly stared.

His opinion shifted the more attention he paid.

Beautiful

Not a single drop of cursed energy was on her, so either she was a sorcerer and was able to channel cursed energy to a high degree, or she was a non-sorcerer who had never had a single negative thought in her life touch her.

He doubted the latter, so it was most likely she was a sorcerer, but he’d never seen her before. Then again, for the first time recently, he’d met his fellow special grade peer, Yuki. The woman operated on her own terms and conditions, but her ideology was something he respected. Was that the case then?

For you, who sat on the other side of the rail car, trying desperately not to show how uncomfortable you were. The sharp eyed man didn’t seem hostile, but he radiated power unlike something you’d seen before. He wasn’t a normal sorcerer, you could quickly deduce, and it worried you greatly how much attention he was giving you.

He got up and moved towards you, and despite the dark circles layered under his eyes, he had a small smile on his face. Friendly and genuine.

That was how you met the living special grade sorcerer, Suguru Geto, a young man in his early twenties.

Geto isn’t an entirely inexperienced man when it came to women, quite popular in school. Despite how dreary his appearance may be now, how clouded his judgement, he can tell when someone is shy instead of blatantly cold towards him. Despite your attire and frozen facial expression from earlier, you melted quickly into a sweetheart. He learned you’d been trained as a sorcerer by your grandfather, whose name he recognized to be a very respected historical figure that taught at his school decades ago. You didn’t work for Jujutsu High, similar to Yuki whom he’d met recently as well.

“You’re a sorcerer not working as a sorcerer… is that correct?” He asked, genuinely curious. You had shook your head, speaking softly.

“I don’t need the money.”

That was it.

Your whole reasoning for it all, was just not wanting to be paid for work that could seriously kill or injure you. Geto was left stunned. “Why…? When it’s their fault these curses are killing them, killing us?” He was still reeling from the information which Yuki provided him. Truly still not understanding where his feelings lay. Your eyes were so clear, your voice barely loud enough over the noisy rail car for him to hear.

“They don’t know any better?”

A few days after his encounter with you, Geto massacred the entire village he had traveled to save. Only two little girls left alive, sorcerers that had been ostracized and beaten for the things their abusers had caused.

Your words and Yuki’s rang in his mind to the same tune of applause of that day.

“They cause cursed energy because they can’t control it”

“They don’t know any better”

Geto wanted to eradicate them all.

“Worthless monkeys”

“Die! Witch!”

“Burn demon! Burn to death! You’ve cursed us!”

“Kill her! We have to kill her if we want to purge it!”

Their terrifying shouts rose with the flames of your home you realized had been burned with the intent to kill you. You watched in horror as their emotions released more and more cursed energy.

“Stop! You’re going to make it worse!” You could only cry out, unable to fathom the circumstances that were happening. How did these people know you were a sorcerer? But as you looked again, finally using logic to see, you realized they didn’t know. They really thought you to be a witch, a demon from hell cursing them. Your cats struggled, clawing out of your hold and you had no choice but to set them down as they raced off into the forest to escape the fire spreading.

Someone threw out a woman from the crowd, badly beaten and still tied up, her body landing with a soft thud on the soft forest floor.

“I-is she… oh god…” you were overcome with horror and anguish as you realized they’d killed her. An innocent young woman. Dead.

The mobs screams and shouts just kept getting louder, and you knew if you didn’t get out now, it’d be a blood bath. Either yours or theirs. You took off, despite being barefoot and hardly covered, you were quick and nimble. The mob gave chase as well, and while they wouldn’t catch up with your speed and abilities, they had the power of numbers to block and surround you.

And so they did. Cornering you, shouting and hollering. Their malevolence combined weighing you down in panic and fear.

“Look at all these pathetic monkeys.” Your head snapped in the direction of the voice, overpowering the shouts of the crowd a little, as their movements closing in on you halted a fraction due to his appearance.

He looked better than he had when you’d met for the first time. His face more jovial and his smile wide, less sincere though. It’s been months since your encounter on the train.

“What…” you were ready to cry, stepping away fearfully as you took him in.

“Aww dear, no need for that. These monkeys aren’t worth your precious tears.” He just kept coming closer and closer, standing tall and imposing before you, looking benevolent almost.

“S-Suguru—”

His smile doesn’t change as he casts a barrier, shocking you with the profound level and speed.

You move to take another step back, but a large hand encases your wrist and yanks you forward. This is much different than facing a non-sorcerer, you’re not even a warm up match for Geto. You hardly qualify as a grade 2, your prowess centered in reversed cursed techniques for healing. He doesn’t seem upset, but you had to admit you were scared. Your home burned. A woman murdered. An entire town apparently filled with so much hatred towards you that they wanted to burn you alive. And now Suguru Geto, a master curse user, is before you.

The same man who massacred 112 people not too long ago.

“Suguru…!” You tried again, to free your arm and figure out what his intentions were. Neither happened.

“I told you not to cry, didn’t I?”

It’s a blood bath. To your absolutely dismay, you’re left to watch as Suguru releases curse after curse which move to prey on the humans around you.

People.

“Ah, the sound of monkeys dying. Isn’t this much better?” You can only take your eyes away when your tears blur your vision so badly you can no longer see as flames begin to light up the forest. People are being torn apart—

“Please stop!” Your plea garners his interest, but his stare is condescending as he looks down on you.

“You want to protect the very things which want you dead? That killed their own for such a ridiculous myth? They’ve dubbed you a black magic witch you know.” His visible hatred for humans takes your breath away, unsure how to handle this situation in a way which doesn’t result in more loss.

“They don’t understand—”

“I think it’s you who doesn’t understand.” His words register after the blow, consciousness fading as Geto wraps you up his arms protectively as he stares off into the carnage with a grin. Flames lick the sky as the night wears on.

When you awake it’s to a new nightmare.

You’re inside a barrier, Suguru’s no doubt, and laid on a futon in what seems to be a prayer room. The space is massive but empty, only a slight stand with a large pillow for lounging it seemed on it. Dimly lit by lanterns around the outer edges.

“Ah, you’re awake?” Your eyes snap to his, fear leaking into your veins as you try to scramble back from the special grade. You realize in horror you aren’t in your clothes, dressed instead in what looked to be a dark silk nightgown much too short for your comfort in front of this man. It’s revealing and scandalous, and if it was a different situation you might’ve admired the garment that fit your taste, but you only felt worried of who changed you.

You’re quick to get tangled in the sheets, fumbling around as you stand and take up a fighting stance despite knowing you were a weaker sorcerer than him.

“Those people—” you’re cut off.

“Monkeys” he interrupts.

You huff, your stoic facade crumbling again as you see his smile grow in deep pleasure. You don’t need him to say it aloud, those people are dead now. You didn’t nothing to stop it either. Your pride was certainly wounded, hurt that a sorcerer who should be protecting humans was instead turning around and killing them.

“Why—!” You could only grit your teeth in anger, unable to fathom how he could do such things without a hint of remorse. Even if they’d misunderstood you, even if you’d been judged for your appearance, it still wasn’t the answer to slaughter them like animals!

“Because they threatened you. Because they served no purpose other than to die.” His simple answer left you dumbfounded, only breaking from the spell as you hear a tiny yowl. You look to see one of your cats, a black cat you’d rescued from some punk kids on Halloween with bad intentions, rubbing and purring against Geto’s leg. “Why can’t you act more like this?” His words struck a cord of annoyance in you, as he points down at your cat smothering him with affection like the hussy she is.

“I’m leaving.”

“I’m afraid you aren’t dear.”

“And why not?”

His smile dropped as his eyes fully opened and focused on you now. What were once albeit tired and kind eyes now bore into your own with a burning hatred in their dark depths. Was it towards you? His eyes widened a bit, likely taking note of the terror he was eliciting from you, throwing his hands up and going back to his harmless smiling expression. “No dear, don’t look at me like that. I don’t wish you any harm at all. Quite the opposite in fact.”

What did that mean? Your gut instinct told you nothing good.

“I-I want to leave.” You don’t mean to stumble over your words, nor can you control how your body reacts like a wounded beast cornered.

“Why? Why try and leave when you can stay here and be excepted by your own, where we understand and care for each other. Those monkeys dub you a witch, but here you’d be worshipped as a Goddess as you should be.” He’s deranged, you’ve already concluded, and you don’t listen any further as you turn and rush for some type of exit.

If you can find a weak point in his barrier then maybe—

You don’t make it far, a strong arm locked around your center and throwing your balance off as you’re tossed haphazardly back onto the futon. You gasp in panic, readying your cursed energy in preparation for attack but it doesn’t come. Instead Suguru looms over you, hands on either side of your face as he blocks out the light of the room with his figure. His knees cage your hips in, his robes tickling the exposed skin the nightgown leaves uncovered.

“Please” you further crumble, realizing this special grade seems to have more intentions towards you than just having you worshipped as some sort of deity.

“So pretty. I thought so the first time I saw you too. Like a doll, so expressionless… I like you like this more though. I think I’d like you best if you smiled. I wonder if I’ll get to see that.” He’s too close. His body heat seeping through into you and you can smell his masculine scent. Your heart is racing, and you wished this wasn’t the situation you were in, wished Suguru wasn’t a homicidal sociopath because yes he is handsome. Your body doesn’t care that his hit list is nearly the entire world apparently, heating up under his burning gaze.

His smirk is as terrifying as it is infuriating because he knows what he’s doing. “What’s wrong dear? Weren’t you leaving?” One hand moves, his size and stature bigger than you, his wide palm and long fingers tracing up your side and pulling a shiver from you. You react slowly, hands wrapping around his wrist in a pathetic and lazy attempt to remove it. “Stop. This- this is wrong…what are you planning…?” Your eyes are wide with confusion, lips pulled down in a frown.

“I’m planning many things… but for you? I plan to make you mine.”

He’s not hesitating anymore, likely emboldened by your lackluster efforts to deny his seduction. It’s really not your fault, not with how his hands feel as he finally sits up to admire how you look beneath him. Under him. How his hands dance over your exposed skin, and so gently begin to warm you up in the cool room. “You can cry and scream if you’d like?” His thin eyes crinkling in the corners as he smiles sadistically. You seem further confused as he pets you, your hands locked on both his wrists, fingers not able to wrap around completely. You aren’t stopping him, if anything you just seem apprehensive as he lightly explores you. Not touching anywhere necessarily inappropriate but his actions clearly not innocent either. “Make me out to be a monster, I’m not against taking you forcefully.” You’re frozen beneath him, his soft grazing not aligned with the vicious statement of raping you.

“You’re being so good though, aren’t you little witch?” The word usually used as a derogatory term against you sounds sweet from his lips. He’s leaning down, finally letting his hands caress your chest through the nightgown, cupping your breasts and letting his thumbs playfully poke your hardened nipples. You’d been left without a bra. You kept quiet even as your hips jerked a fraction at his teasing. His lips so close to your own now. “Not going to fight me?” His grin and tone are light, and you’re more surprised by your own lack of will to stop him than his passionate kiss. It’s soft, his lips and the way he’s able to mold them so perfectly with your own. The skillful manner in which he has your mouth opening for him, his tongue delving into your own for a taste that has you whining into the kiss. One hand stays fondling your breast, another moving down your abdomen and close to your heat.

You aren’t given a chance to squeeze your thighs together, one of his knees swift in slotting itself in between your own and forcing your legs to spread. His hand not shy as he drags two fingers over your wet panties. His own groan vibrating into your mouth when he realizes how you’ve soaked your underwear he’d just put you in not long ago. Shoving the lacy piece of cloth to the side, Geto quickly sinks a finger inside your needy core. You’re shaking beneath him, hands moved to wrap around his neck and keep him close as he explores and stretches your gummy insides. “All for me?” He chuckles breathlessly, breaking the kiss with a string of saliva connecting you two for a brief moment. You don’t have his lips to silence you anymore, and your soft little whines and panting are too cute for Geto to control how his hips rut into the futon. “Your mouth up here says one thing, but your pussy is honest, isn’t it?” He’s mocking you, but you aren’t able to protest his words before his lips are back to devouring you. Another finger enters you, pumping in and out as you begin to soak his hand and the futon beneath you. He’s able to reach so deep inside you, focusing on a spot that has your hips shamelessly grinding down against him. “Right there?” He murmurs against your lips, pulling away to trail kisses down your jaw to your neck. He doesn’t tease or hold back now, rubbing that spot inside relentlessly while using the heel of his palm to apply pressure to your clit. Your noises pick up in volume, struggling to stop them futile as he nips and sucks at the tender skin of your neck. Geto can tell you’re close by how your legs try to close, hips jerking and pussy clamping down around his fingers while you mewl under him in pleasure.

“Hah… I was wrong. This expression looks the best on you.” He’s speaking more to himself as you finally come apart for him beautifully. Your eye makeup mostly removed by his hand but a bit of leftover eyeliner smudges down your cheeks as your eyes water and body convulses. You look ruined.

He lets you catch your breath, kissing over your tears and cheeks sweetly while murmuring praises.

“You did so good for me.”

“Looking so beautiful coming on my fingers. Look how much you came.”

You aren’t really given much time to transition from his fingers leaving you though, and being replaced by his hot aching cock. The soft tip unreserved as Geto pushes into you with no verbal warning. You keen, back arching as you feel his thick appendage stretch and fill you almost painfully. Your fingers dig through the fabric of his robes and into his skin, his breath catching as he groans at the feeling of you so tightly wrapping around him. “Really, so fucking tight.” He sounds almost pained even as his laughs, smiling at the sight of you struggling to take him. He doesn’t pause his hips though, just a continuous pace of filling you until he’s kissing up against your cervix. Cramming every inch of himself inside of your wet heat. “Good little witch, look, I’m all the way inside.” He’s amused as you pant, looking down to see indeed his hips were nestled right against your own, pubic hair lightly tickling you. “A little late for this, don’t you think?” He murmurs softly, brushing a few stray tears off your face as you huff, tilting your head back with narrowed eyes. Geto couldn’t help but liken you to the cats which he saved from the forest that night for you. The cute felines also playing sweet until he happened to graze their belly, only to have their eyes narrow and claws come out. Geto laughs, pulling his hips back meanly and slamming inside you, causing you to choke on a moan as you go to wrap your arms around him again. He sets a mean pace, relishing in how good you feel, and while he’s not overly experienced he’s aware he’ll never feel anything as heavenly as being inside you.

“S-slow down! S’too much Suguru!” Your speech is a bit slurred as you cry out, your defiant eyes from earlier melting into something softer and more to Geto’s liking.

“I told you I was going to make you mine, did you forget already?” He’s not kind as he slides his knees forward, your grip lost around him as your hands now clutch onto his robes and distort them. The fabric pulling until his chest is exposed, his appearance more debauched now as his face contorts in pleasure. His cheeks reddened, eyes darker and lips curled into a seductive smile that leaves you tightening around him in arousal. “My pretty and foolish little witch, I’m going to show you why those monkeys don’t deserve your efforts or that of any sorcerers.” You can’t think as he bullies himself into you over and over, cock dragging so perfectly against your walls that you can’t think straight. “I’m going to prove your place is right—hah—here.” you’re left reeling as he sinks even deeper, palm coming to push down on your lower abdomen where he’s punishing your cunt. The black silk nightgown is torn down with his other hand so he can’t watch your tits move with each thrust into your sopping cunt.

“Too much!” You wail pathetically, but he’s too focused on fucking as deep and hard into you as possible to care much for whines. Grunting as he feels the signs of you being close.

“Do you want to cum?” His question hardly registered, a hand coming to grip your jaw tightly as he makes you look at him. “Answer or I’m going to stop.” His threat finally cutting through the fog of overwhelming pleasure. You nod, trying to drag him down to kiss you again, but stopped.

“If you want to cum little witch, I suggest you beg.” His smile is cruel, enjoying the way you panic a bit as you realize he’s slowed down and your high was quickly escaping you.

“P-please!”

“You can do better than that…” his hips roll gently now, but you could feel him so much better like this.

“Suguru… I want to cum.. please…!”

Geto groans, his thrusts still even and gentle now, keeping you tightly wound without letting the cord snap. Your hand which moved to touch yourself is quickly captured by his own. Threading your fingers together and pushing your hand into the futon to anchor you. He’s watching himself sink into you, too slow for your liking though as you tremble and babble beneath him. Begging him to make you come.

“I can’t! Please please please, I’ll be good, please.” It’s so desperate and needy it sends shivers down his spine, his cock twitching and balls tightening in arousal. Your hips jerking, trying to make him speed up and failing.

“Good girl.” Is all you get before he’s sliding out and flipping you over. Your hips are yanked up, back forced to arch as he applies pressure to your upper back to keep you pressed into the futon.

When he sinks back in, it’s an entirely new experience. Geto filling you so much better like this. “You want my cock?”

“Yes! Yes, I’wan it~!” Your slurred speech erotic, having Geto closer than he’d like to admit to his own finish due to how tight and wet you were. Your mindless pleas only furthering his own ego and turning him on. “I knew you’d beg so perfectly.” Geto is back to slamming his hips into yours, the soft flesh of your ass taking the brunt force of his pelvis smashing into you. His new angle and pace have you seeing white, hands clutching the fabric of the futon in a death grip as you come harder than you’ve ever experienced. “Fuck!” Geto can’t help but curse as your cunt locks him in a vice grip. His nails sink into your hips, using the momentum in which he bounces you off his cock to yank you back onto him. You’re left limp and pliant, using you more like a sex toy than anything else now as he chases his own high.

“I’m going to cum inside you.” He’s not asking.

“W-wait—!” His words snap you from your pleasure induced haze, panic gripping you as you realize now is the most dangerous time of the month for that and you aren’t on any birth control.

“Pull out! I’ll get pregnant, ngh!” You cry out as you feel his cock twitch and fill you. His hips jerking minutely, not pulling out enough to let his semen escape, but enough to try and press it further into you.

Geto laughs at your whimpers, petting the hair from your face sweetly as he stays still inside you now.

“That’s the point dear.”

It doesn’t dawn on you how absolutely crazy and obsessed this man is with you until this moment. His wandering hands moving you onto your side so he can tuck you against him, lips kissing you like a lover might.

“I told you little witch, you’re mine now.”

#mama’s cookin’#suguru geto #jjk #jujutsu geto #jujutsu kaisen #Geto x reader #yandere Geto suguru #yandere Geto x reader #mdni #18+#yandere #request filled

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soullumii · 9 months

Text

if my heart’s gonna break | joel miller x f!reader

part 1 (read part 1 before reading this!)

summary: a couple nights later, you head back to joel’s

warnings: 18+!!!! smut again. unprotected piv. fem!afab!reader. angst again don’t worry i’ll make a happy ending okay

word count: 4k

joel mod in gif is by speclizer (so fucking hot oh my GODDDD)

a/n: finally finished part 2 omg i’m sorry for the wait yall… i’m a perfectionist it’s lowkey debilitating. anyways… i hope u guys enjoy <3 tysm for the support on part 1 and tbh on all my other fics too… i can’t believe ppl like my writing that much. i am very grateful! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

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im scared but if my heart's gonna break before the night will end

i said we're in danger

sleeping with a friend

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You cant stop thinking about the kiss.

The kiss that honestly shouldn’t mean so much to you. You’ve kissed him, like, so many times. So many times his tongue has been in your mouth, been in your damn vagina. So why the fuck… why the fuck are you so worked up over this right now?

It’s just…it was so heavy. It felt like…like more than just a kiss. Like he was laying his life down for you, much like he does in patrols.

He… Joel… he usually never kisses right after sex. He recognizes in the post-coitus energy that things are different. They mean more. He has to know that. So… why now? Does he…?

No. You’re just in your head again. Maybe you’re thinking about it too hard. You’ve never had a friends with benefits situation before now. Maybe this… maybe this is regular.

But for your own psyche, you think you might have to set some ground rules.

There was always that main rule, that wretched, critical rule. The one you said to him on the first day of your strange exchange.

“Don’t go falling in love with me, cowboy.”

Well, to hell with that one, right? Pretty sure you’ve beaten that shit to death. Shattered all possible remains of it.

So more rules. More rules will have to do. Starting with:

No kissing.

Should be easy enough.

You’ll figure out the rest later. You have got to stop thinking about it, though, because you’re on the way to his house right now.

You knock swiftly on the door, and you swear you feel your heart drop into your pussy the moment he opens the door to reveal himself. A plain, black t-shirt is stretched across his broad chest, haphazardly tucked into a pair of plaid pajama pants that hang loosely around his hips. His graying hair is ruffled beyond belief, curling around his ears and falling over his forehead. In your fits of passion and desire a couple nights ago, you hardly realized it had grown longer. It looks nice.

This sleepy and soft Joel is not one you’ve seen in a while. Well, it’s not like you’ve seen him much lately anyway, with him having been gone and all. Still, it’s disorienting.

“Howdy,” he says.

“Um. Hi.” You try not to gawk. “Did…did I come at a bad time, or something?”

“No, not at all. I just got back from patrols… took a shower,” he says, leaning a shoulder against the door jamb, strong arms crossing over his chest. There’s a tiny, barely perceptible smirk on his lips. “Need somethin’?”

You see it now, the water clinging to his hair, darkening it, beading at his temples like sweat. You follow a line of water trickling down his throat until it disappears behind his collar.

Rule 2: Don’t come over after he’s showered.

“I…uh, I can come back later if you want—“

You’re nervous to ask him what you want to ask him, which is honestly ridiculous considering you guys have been doing this for months now. You used to be able to just knock on his door and he’d pull you in, and it was that easy. Or you’d give him a look when in public, and he knew exactly what you needed.

Now, you’re painfully awkward. Curse him and curse your feelings.

He straightens a bit, his brows furrowing in slight concern. “What’s goin’ on?”

Heat spreads down your neck, embarrassment. Shame. It’s strange, how just a couple nights ago you let him finger you in public, and now you’re afraid to ask him for sex again in his house and for your panties back.

You should honestly just say something like:

I’m here for my underwear.

And you’re positive he’d say:

Want it back? You gotta earn it, sweetheart.

And your knees would buckle and you’d sink down to the carpeted floor in front of his couch and suck him off until he was coming down your throat, stroking back your hair and thumbing his cum on your plush bottom lip.

But instead you’re scowling at him and blurting: “I need a drink.”

How dare he leave you high and dry for three weeks, come back and fuck the shit out of you, make you realize you’re in love with him, and look this good?

God damnit, you need to get your shit together.

Joel’s eyes widen, surprised only slightly by your outburst, before he backs up to allow you inside his home. When he shuts the door behind you, his hand settles warmly on your lower back as he steers you toward the kitchen.

He immediately beelines for the liquor cabinet and grabs a bottle of red for you. A warm, tingly feeling stirs in your stomach at the fact that he knew you’d want wine. The frustration you’ve been feeling fizzles out.

“You know me so well.”

He gives you a light smirk, uncorking the bottle. The liquor gurgles as he pours it into a glass. “Think you’d kill me if I didn’t know after all this time.”

You laugh, “Sure, but the real test of friendship is if you knew how I’d kill you.”

“A swift kick to the nuts and then one of my guitars to my head.”

Your eyes widen on a guffaw. “You think I’d damage one of your guitars?”

“You care more about my guitars than my genitals?”

“Yes. Why would I ever smash one of your guitars?”

He rolls his eyes. “Kill two birds with one stone—my soul and my body. It’s effective. If you needed to kill me, I’d hope it was like that. Now how would I kill you?”

You hum in consideration. “Trick question. You wouldn’t—no, you couldn’t.”

“You know me so well.”

His words mirrored back at you so gently, with his brown eyes trained on you intently has the warmth in your belly spreading, making you drop your gaze.

His smirk grows and he hands you the wine glass and reaches for some homemade brandy. You watch the muscles in his arm flex as he pours, sipping daintily while your mind replays thoughts of filth. Of you dragging that arm between your legs, grinding down on it until—

“So, you really only here for a drink?” He asks with a playful lilt, taking a sip of his own beverage and effectively jolting you out of your daydreaming.

You lean against the island, wondering if you should tell him the truth. From the way he’s looking at you, hungrily and heated, like a lion ready to pounce, you’re tempted to.

But…you’re afraid. You can’t stop thinking about The Rule. The one you broke and the ones you just made. You wonder if whatever might happen between you two tonight will unravel them before you can even put them into place.

You look up at him through your lashes, lips pursed around the rim of the glass. “Maybe, maybe not.”

His eyes darken, tongue darting out to lick his lips of sweet fermented wine. His gaze travels up and down your figure, comfortable and breathable in a t-shirt and shorts. Nothing fancy and cute like your sundress from the other night, because today you had to work. But Joel has never minded what you’ve worn, swearing you always look sexy in anything.

Which is something that also makes you question this friends with benefits situation you have here.

He sets his glass down and eases in closer, curling an arm around your waist to pull you into him. “How high’s the chance then?”

“…What do you mean?”

“I mean what’s the probability that you really did only come here for a drink?” he drawls, eyes following your lips as your tongue dips out to wet them. “Or was there another reason?”

The cold tip of his nose brushes along your throat, lips ghosting over your skin. You tremble in his hold. “Odds are in favor of the first option,” you breathe, “ran out of alcohol at my place.”

“And you couldn’t just stop by the Bison? Had to steal from my stores?”

“You know you have the good stuff.”

“You’re lyin’ but I’ll pretend like you ain’t.”

That makes you laugh, and more tumble out of you when one of his hands traces lazily over your stomach, fingers light and delicate and teasing.

“So why d’ya need a drink?”

Because you’re driving me crazy. Because I’m driving myself crazy. Because the universe wants to fuck me over.

You smile and your free hand skates up his muscled back, your fingers brushing along the stretchy fabric of his tee, your voice soft. “Just needed to destress a little. Work has been intense.”

He grins back, presses it into the spanse between your throat and your shoulder, before he lightly scrapes his teeth over it and lays a gentle bite that has you keening into him, pressing your body against his.

“Well, I could help you destress another way too,” he murmurs, palm squeezing the pudgy flesh of your waist, fingers digging lightly into your muscle.

“Mm… yeah?” you hum, your voice a low purr, back arching. Your breasts press into his chest, and Joel makes a sound deep in his throat in agreement.

He presses you into the island, caging you in with his hands on either side of you. He towers over you, a sweatpant clad leg sliding between yours.

He leans down to kiss you, and a flashing light blares in your mind — NO KISSING — loud and bright and distracting. You turn your head at the last second, his lips landing on your cheek. But Joel doesn’t pull back, doesn’t question you. He just kisses down your cheek, along your jaw, mouthing at you. Sucking your skin to leave little marks that will either fade or be covered by concealer.

It used to upset you when he left marks because they’re a pain to cover up. Then, you started to like it. You didn’t mind covering up the marks because when you took the makeup off and saw them at the end of the day, all you could think about was him. About the how he made you come. About the words he muttered in your ear. About the feeling of his hands on you—in you.

Now, you’re starting to grow upset again, but this time it’s because you want to wear them proudly. Want people to know he gets to claim you like this. But… you can’t. But you also don’t want him to stop.

You allow him to continue marking you up, his hand coming up to rest behind your skull, holding you in place. You press your body into his eagerly and with desperate, soft noises that he returns with placating moans.

And then he shifts, and his thigh ruts against your clothed core, and you moan lightly, airily, grinding your hips down against him, searching for any friction.

His hands curl around the hem of your white tee, and he peels it off your body. One skates behind your back to easily undo the clasp of your bra, and then your breasts are heavy and on display for him.

Joel stares down at you with heavy eyes. “Christ, you’re beautiful.”

Longing claws at your chest, and you look up at him coyly, your lip caught between your teeth. Joel groans like he’s in pain, and squeezes along the underside of one of your breasts before leaning down to close his mouth over the nipple while his other hand gives attention to the other, squeezing and pinching. Your hands find purchase in his damp hair as low moans tumble from your lips.

When he’s deemed one nipple adequately appreciated, he moves onto the next. Licking, revering, his dark eyes peering up at you while his peppered hair is fisted in your hands. The sight has slick arousal pooling in your underwear.

Eventually he pulls back and his hands clamp down on your hips. He guides you along the muscle of his thigh, your clit pulsing at the contact.

“Want you to come on my thigh, baby.” His voice is a ragged slur of words against your ear, warm and paired with a kiss to your cartilage.

“Fuck…yes, Joel,” you whimper, sparks flying through your nerves with each roll of your hips.

His fingers grip your chin, tilting your head so you have no choice but to keep eye contact with him as you rut against his thigh. He’s grinning, eyes heavy lidded and deep, dark like wet tar. They suck you in as if they were quicksand.

You’d let him drag you under a million times over.

Your best friend.

“Joel,” you moan, feeling yourself grow close. Standing at the cliff's edge. His eyes bore into yours, his grin slipping as he focuses on you. Focuses on making you shatter atop him.

“Come on, baby. You can do it. You can come,” he says encouragingly, fingers stroking the skin of your hip. You feel tears prick your eyes as the waves crash, spreading from your throbbing clit along your muscles. Filling you with warmth, stronger and deeper than the buzz from the wine.

“Good job,” he praises gently. “Did so good.”

“Shut up,” you huff.

He laughs, and despite yourself, heat floods your body, throbs between your thighs. His words caress a deep, carnal animal inside of you, and the hunger takes over.

You frantically pull at his shirt until he has to tell you to slow down, and takes it off himself. Your hands run along his chest and stomach the moment they’re able to and down to the waistband of his sweats. You palm his hardening cock through the soft, gray fabric. Joel groans deep and heavy, his lashes fluttering as he stares you down. His hips thrust into your palm automatically. Involuntarily.

God, that makes you light up like a firefly. Makes your nerves sing and your cunt flutter and your mind go numb.

He tugs down your shorts and underwear and sets you on top of the granite, but before he can strip the underwear from your ankle to no doubt pocket this pair like he did the other, you flick it off your foot across the kitchen. It lands somewhere near the door to the dining room.

He can’t steal all your underwear, or you’ll have none left.

“I wanted those,” he drawls, expression on the edge of a pout.

“Yeah, well I need them. It’s not common to come across a good pair of panties in this world.”

“But I’d give ‘em back.” He’s full on pouting now. It is, unfortunately, very cute, but you’re used to it.

“Sure… like the pair you took from me the other night that I have yet to receive.”

“How else am I supposed to get you to come over?”

“I dunno? Maybe ask?”

“Should I leave a note on your door? Is that good enough for you?”

“At least be classy. A letter delivered in my mailbox with a wax stamp, please.”

He laughs. “As you wish, Princess.”

He finally peels off his sweatpants, free of underwear beneath them, and you watch with barely concealed hunger as his cock springs free.

And while you like the idea of him fucking you on the counter, you’d much rather him fuck you against the counter, so you hop down and turn so your back faces him. Your hands curl around the granite lip of the counter top, and you push your ass out and back, peering at him over your shoulder.

This way, it’s easier for him not to kiss you. Easier for you to turn your head and deny your lips to him.

“Look at you…” Joel hums appreciatively at your show, at the wiggle of your hips as his palm smooths down your back and over your ass, squeezing at the plump flesh.

You moan quietly, and Joel’s eyes darken, watching you intently like you’re the only thing in the room.

His fingers drift down to your cunt and your slickness coats his fingers fully. You’re so wet for him. So ready for him to bury himself inside you and call you his.

It’s funny, you’ve lost all your heat from a few nights ago. All your sharp edged words. Now, you’re soft and pliant.

He swirls his soaked index and middle fingers along your clit, punctuating your sensitivity, before sliding them back inside you to the knuckle. You keen and push back, desperate for more. His fingers are so much longer than yours, thicker, and yet you crave more.

“That’s it, Joel,” you huff. “Fuck, feels so good. Need more.”

“Yeah? Tell me what you need, baby girl.”

Shame lights your cheeks, but you push down the embarrassment. “Need…need your cock inside me.”

He lays a kiss on your neck. “Still a bit desperate aren’t we?”

“You’re the desperate one, Mr. Panty Stealer. You’re a fucking creep.”

He chuckles against your neck, but he squeezes your ass in retaliation. “Be nice, would you?”

“You like it when I’m mean.”

“Wanna see how much I like it?”

“If you’re willing to show me and get on with this, sure.”

He huffs in amused frustration. “God, you’re annoyin’.”

You just smile innocently at him.

Your legs tremble, slick running down your thighs when Joel pulls his fingers out. He replaces them with the hardness of his cock, of which he runs along your wetness, readying himself.

“I think ‘bout you way too much,” he says into your back, pressing a gentle kiss there. “D’ya think ‘bout me too?”

It’s an odd question. One you’re not expecting. One that has your heart stuttering in quiet confusion from this sudden switch in tone.

“Of course I do.” Obviously. You told him as much. Three weeks. Three weeks you thought about him.

“Good… wanna be the only thing on your mind.”

A high pitched keen hisses through your teeth as Joel eases himself inside you with a long, slow stroke and a low moan. Your fingers white knuckle the countertop, gripping it tightly.

He presses in close, burying himself all the way in before he withdraws slowly, his cock sliding inside you torturously.

“Joel,” you moan.

“I know, baby.” He presses kisses to your shoulders.

Joel’s hand gravitates to the back of your knee, and he slowly pushes up to lift your leg until your knee is resting on the counter.

And then… with this new angle…he starts fucking you in earnest.

His hips snap against your ass, the sound deafening in the kitchen, and you crumple against the granite with a moan.

“Shit,” Joel grunts. “Yeah.”

Each of his heavy thrusts punches the air from your lungs, and your fingers slip on the countertop, scrabbling for purchase every chance you can get. He’s hot, thick inside you, warm as he folds over you, his hand on your tummy holding you upright, the other keeping your leg up to continue hitting you at that pleasant, delicious angle.

“H-holy shit—oh—“

He breathes heavily at your neck, low grunts and moans escaping his lips from his efforts. “Could spend eternity inside you, darlin’. Fuck, you’re mine.”

Your heart stutters, the words uttered in a lust filled craze, likely meaning nothing. But to your traitorous brain, to the hope lingering in your chest like a persistent cough, they mean everything.

“All…” you’re losing your train of thought, fucked into blissful nothingness. “All yours, Joel.”

It’s too difficult for him to kiss you from this angle, which you’re relieved about. But a part of you longs for it, longs for the feel of his mouth moving against yours.

Joel’s strong arm wraps around your chest, and pulls you up so you’re flush against his back as he pounds up and into you. Keens and whimpers and breathless pants escape you with every thrust.

“Please, Joel,” you cry, tears pricking at the edges of your swirling vision.

“What, baby?” He huffs. “Need’a come?”

You nod crazily. “Yes—need to—“

“Shhh okay… I’ve got you,” he murmurs gently, the hand wrapped around your tummy inching down to circle at your clit steadily.

Your legs buckle beneath you but Joel keeps you upright as the pleasure soars through you, sudden and strong. He strokes you through it, groaning praises into your ear before he comes inside you a moment later.

The two of you hiss in tandem when he pulls out, but he smothers it when he lays his mouth over yours. You’re hardly coherent enough to remember your rule, and for a moment you let him kiss you. You kiss him back, chasing the heat of his mouth with your own, moaning against his lips when his tongue dips into your mouth.

Then, you remember.

You pull back panting, cheeks a flame, “Joel.”

“Hm?” He murmurs, dragging his lips down your jaw before moving back up to pull you into another kiss. You move away before he can. His brows furrow in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t… I don’t think we should kiss anymore.”

He blinks. “What? Why?”

Your eyes flit across the kitchen, catching on labeled jars and wooden spoons and spices, anything but his own. “It’s too intimate.”

It’s a lame excuse. Joel sees through it immediately.

“And my cock inside you ain’t?”

You sigh heavily, avoiding eye contact. “It’s different.”

“How? Enlighten me.” His tone has gone rougher. Hurt swirls in his eyes, and you feel worse than you did the other night.

Because you and I are friends. Because I don’t think I can pretend like that’s the truth when all I want is to call you mine. Because when I kiss you it’s like my world finally starts to make sense.

“Please, Joel. Just…I don’t want to do it anymore. Can you respect that, please?”

He runs a hand down his beard, his hurt expression hardening into a stoic one you haven’t been on the receiving end of in years. Fuck. “Alright, I’m sorry. I won’t kiss you anymore.”

You expect relief but all that comes is a deep longing and sadness that you try to push to the depths of your conscience. Though, like a buoy, it keeps popping above the surface.

“Thanks,” you say quietly.

The cleanup is awkward. He watches you silently as you pick up your underwear and slide them and your shorts back on. He seems far away, here and gone all at once. It makes you worry, makes you wonder if what you just said was the biggest mistake of your life.

But you have to do this. You have to hold him at arm's length because if you admit to him…if you tell him how you really feel… maybe he really will leave you. He’ll realize you’ve gone and fucked everything up, and the friendship you’ve kindled, the trust you’ve built, will all be for nothing.

You can’t lose him, even if it means you can’t keep him close.

“Thanks for tonight,” you say eventually, when he’s walking you out the front door.

He smiles at you, faint and untrue. It’s like the one from the other night. Like that laugh he forced out for you. You feel like a Joel from the past has teleported to the present, with his thin smile and his hard eyes. “Yeah, of course.”

“You okay?”

Joel frowns, shifts on his feet. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno. You just seem… I don’t know. Never mind.”

“I’m good.”

“You sure?”

He nods. “You need me to walk you home?”

“No, I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you hum. A moth circles the porch light. The two of you stare at each other for a long moment. He looks as if he wants to say something, but thinks better of it.

“Okay,” is all that he says.

“Okay,” you repeat, feeling empty. A waif, a lonely white flag waving in the wind. “Um, I’ll see you later, then.”

“Yeah, sounds good. Night, darlin’,” he says, squeezing your arm, like he’s trying to be normal. It doesn’t work. His hand is cold. “Sweet dreams.”

“Night, Joel.”

It’s raining by the time you reach your house, and you curl under your blankets after a shower, your hair cold and wet against your scalp, listening to the droplets splattering against your window.

Sleep doesn’t come easy.

part 3

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #tlou #game joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller #this is trouble

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tanadrin · 4 months

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Imagine one day a new social trend starts spreading. It’s something unbelievably dumb. Not harmful per de, but truly silly to believe. Let’s say, I dunno, healing crystals start going mainstream. Everybody’s talking about their crystals. It becomes impolite to criticize people who believe in healing crystals. They become a big part of people’s personalities, and people on TV start talking about them, and one day years down the line politicians are debating funding for crystal-based medicine. And through it all you are sitting there going, what the fuck is happening. I thought we were all on the same page on this. You want to get along and be friendly and open minded but you cannot pretend to believe in healing crystals, this is nonsense, and when the topic comes up you refuse to lie about it. This eventually starts to have social consequences—they’re that popular!—but what can you do? You cannot pretend a lump of quartz can cure the flu or whatever. It’s just all so unbearably embarrassing.

I think what the centrist/liberal/center-left reactionary turn driven by culture war stuff feels like. And I think the key emotion is probably cringe. Not hate, not fear, though those emotions may reinforce the turn. I think in a lot of cases people who imagine themselves pretty open minded and flexible have as part of their worldview something they thought was bedrock social consensus—on the level of “healing crystals are silly woo”—so bedrock maybe that it didn’t even need to be a conceptual boundary they actually policed in their minds.

For instance, when she started her anti-trans turn, JK Rowling made a big show of not being really anti trans, just arguing that Some People Had Gone Too Far. She wasn’t a frothing religious reactionary, after all. And I believe that’s probably true! I think Rowling probably did have a mental model of sex and gender with a little bit of give in it—of the “we can humor the odd weirdo” type. But as the discussion of trans rights in the UK got more serious over her lifetime, trans people went from “the odd weirdo” to “a recognized minority,” and eventually this ran against a bedrock belief that on some level men are men and women are women and never the twain shall meet. To act otherwise was just too embarrassing. And she wasn’t going to embarrass herself in the name of political correctness.

Other people whose brains have been eaten by the anti-woke mind virus (as @eightyonekilograms calls it) have something going of the contrarian in them, who enjoys yelling “up yours, woke moralists!” or w/e. Im thinking of ppl like Glenn Greenwald here, or Dave Chapelle, people who seem not to feel alive except when people are mad at them. That’s a separate but interesting dynamic. And there are people like Graham Linehan who become totally unhinged through this process of auto-radicalization, moths drawn ever closer to a particular source of validation within their chosen reactionary subcommunity, until they are truly parodies of themselves. That is also an important dynamic, but it’s one that only takes hold after the initial turn has begun.

I think the role of that feeling of cringe, that refusal to entertain an idea because it is too embarrassing (even if it does actually have a decent body of research behind it, unlike crystals) is important to think about, because I am interested in how to get people over it. I know that feeling has affected my own thinking over my lifetime. I wasn’t raised particularly conservative, but I had to learn not to cringe at a lot of feminist thought before I could appreciate it and learn from it. I explicitly didn’t have that cringe when it came to gay people for whatever reason, so it never entered my mind that it might be a problem. I remember being surprised to learn when I was very young that some boys wanted to marry other boys, but my response was “huh. Go figure.” Because for whatever reason I had not picked up that this was something I was supposed to be grossed out by. A general doctrine of empathy, of trying to understand people on their own terms, can help forestall some of this stuff, but it’s not foolproof in either direction—I don’t want to believe crystals have healing powers if it becomes socially popular to do so, just because it is socially popular to do so! And if they do, I don’t want to not believe they do just because it is socially unpopular!

(Obviously the crystals thing is not a one to one metaphor for the trans thing, so don’t read too much into that. Maybe astrology would have been a better analogy. Also I’m not talking just about people whose reactionary turn is predicated on trans issues—I think this dynamic applies to everything from gay rights to the Tridentine Mass. But trans issues are a handy example bc, as the adage goes, somebody posts once about trans people and they never post anything normal again. I think the classic rapid-onset trans derangement syndrome is closely tied to the fact that gender norms are a really deep element of many people’s social-consensus-based worldview, and so challenged to that worldview are felt as really cringe.)

I’m curious if other people who grew more liberal in their thinking over time had a similar experience of having to overcome what was basically a feeling of embarrassment at certain ideas.

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