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#tbh the only way I can think of that they even found me was a comment I left on a youtube vod
fairuzfan · 1 day
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would you classify “jihadist” as a slur? personally i feel like it’s mainly used by islamophobic white people who want to demonise and antagonise muslim people.
tbh even “islamists” feels like a slur. like no muslim calls themselves these terms. and i’ve only ever heard these be used when white people are trying to spread hate.
i think there needs to be more discussion within western communities on the language surrounding muslims and arabs (because they love conflating the two). people should be held accountable for saying islamophobic shit just as much as they’re held accountable for saying any other sort of slur/hateful comment.
honestly "islamist" doesn't even make sense as a term to me because like what do you mean? its different from "islamic extremists" (which is kinda a vague term in itself) because it implies something intrinsic to islam that is violent and shady that muslims are trying to push. are you saying that salafis for example represent the majority of muslims? if so, i personally would disagree lol. its a super vague term that doesn't mean anything other than "i hate muslims."
"jihadist" also doesn't make sense because islamically speaking, jihad is a pretty wide concept that means different things in different scenarios. im not going to go too much into this, but "jihad" doesn't mean anything involving armed conflict intrinsically. the way i learned it is that its a "struggle" you do in the name of Allah. so things like studying to be a doctor (as long as it's for the purpose to please God) can be considered jihad. so like, when people use "jihadist" in the west im like.... ok... you clearly don't know the history and context and you're vilifying the concept of jihad overall.
you're right, i agree that these terms are only ever used to vilify and spread hate. when people use these terms they show me what type of person they are. and even when they call people terrorists (which in the united states, terror laws were specifically conceived and strengthened to criminalize palestinian resistance, even unarmed) its obvious that they're doing this to de-legitimize. because they never call israel terrorists because its state sanctioned violence. they view anything that isn't a "state" as terror activity because they consider the state as the only legitimate use of force and violence. israel was literally founded on terrorism of palestinians. but they never use those words to describe israel, do they?
but yeah i generally don't take people who say these things seriously and i don't think anyone should either. of course there are terror groups around the world that are LEGIT terrorists, but when talking about palestine, the media and even the law only calls palestinians terrorists. i dont know how to combat it other than rolling my eyes and talking over them tho. this is a problem within media overall thats so widespread.
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redroses07 · 24 hours
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Heartfirst // Johnnie Guilbert
Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader
Summary: Reader is best friends with Johnnie and is avoiding telling him her feelings, but it's Tara's 1mil celebration party and she seems to be having some newfound confidence.
WC: 2.3k
Warnings: Swearing, kissing, slightly suggestive, drinking, use of y/n (i tried to avoid i’m sorry)
A/N: Hey guys, this is my first time writing for Johnnie and tbh I'm really proud of it! It took me a few days to finish and I really hope you guys like it. As always requests are open if you wanna see more of this type of stuff. Love y'all sm!! ♡⋆˙
You were at your house getting ready for your roommate Tara's party. She was throwing a party to celebrate reaching 1 million on her Youtube channel, and almost everyone you knew was attending.
Reaching 1 million was an amazing milestone for her and you were so incredibly proud. You were also a content creator with a solid following, but nothing close to what she had accomplished.
You were finished with your hair and makeup and now just had to decide what to wear. You were torn between a silky black slip, or a sparkly gold mini dress.
"Tara come in here I can't decide what to wear!" You shouted down the hall.
Tara comes rushing out of her room, always prepared to give the best fashion advice. She was already dressed but her makeup was noticeably incomplete, only sporting her signature winged eyeliner on one eye.
"Okay, show me the options." Tara exclaimed, clearly filled with excitement.
You went into your closet and emerged holding the two dresses.
"I feel like the black fits better, but it's kinda basic."
Tara looks between the two and smirks.
"Well which one do you think Johnnie would like better?"
Your jaw fell open, clearly embarrassed by her words.
Johnnie was one of your best friends, and Tara's too. You two spent an awful lot of time together, especially recently since you had begun filming together much more frequently. You will admit, you two had chemistry, and your friends and fans alike picked up on it.
You couldn't deny the not so little crush you had on him, but no way you were ever gonna admit that. It took you forever to admit it to even Tara, you would be mortified if Johnnie ever found out. Although that didn't stop Tara from pressuring you almost every day to confess. It was according to her "obvious he felt the same", but you refused to take the risk and find out.
"What! I'm just being real." Tara said, eyeing your nervous expression.
You shook your head, giving her an annoyed glance.
"I say gold. We can be like opposites cause I'm wearing silver." Tara pointed to her dress.
You smiled, throwing the black dress to the side.
"See I can always count on you to make my decisions for me."
Tara laughed and sped out of the room to finish her makeup.
You proceeded to finish getting dressed, and while you did you thought about what Tara had said.
Maybe it was time for you to finally stop avoiding things and fess up, at least you would know the truth. The only drawback was losing your best friend. If Johnnie didn't feel the same then that would surely make your friendship awkward.
Curiosity was beginning to get the better of you, and maybe tonight would be the night you would find out the truth.
You could've said speak of the devil, because right at that moment Tara popped her head into your room to tell you that Jake and Johnnie had arrived.
"I hope you're ready, Jake said they brought a ton of stuff and need help carrying it all inside." Tara said with a sigh.
Her makeup was now complete, eyeliner perfectly symmetrical on both sides and glitter eye shadow completing the look.
"Yeah hold up I'm coming." You replied, jumping up from your seat and sliding your feet into your black platforms.
As you headed out the door and towards the car, you couldn't help but contain your excitement to see Johnnie. This recent rush of confidence has made you more eager and energetic than normal.
When you reached the car the first thing you saw was Jake piling boxes into his arms, and Johnnie very loudly complaining about how much shit he brought.
"What the hell...how much did you guys bring?" Tara asked, raising her eyebrows.
"Uhhhh, lots of food, and lots of alcohol," Jake began.
"Let's just say I'm gonna get fucked up tonight."
Tara rolled her eyes, and reached into the trunk to grab more boxes.
You rounded the corner and crept up behind Johnnie.
"Boo!" You said, causing him to jump and drop the box he was currently holding.
"Y/N!" Johnnie exclaimed the moment he saw you, completely forgetting about the box he had dropped.
"Johnnie, that could've been breakable." Jake huffed half jokingly.
Johnnie replied by flipping him off as he ran in to give you a hug. He wrapped his arms around you tightly as if he hadn't seen you in forever, when in reality it had only been about two days.
You breathed in the musky scent of his cologne as the hug lasted a bit longer than it should.
You broke apart and took a long look at your best friend. He was wearing a low cut black dress shirt that showed off several tattoos on his chest. He matched it with black jeans, a silver belt, and several chains hanging from his waist.
“You look pretty” Johnnie gave you a sheepish smile.
"Aww thank you!" Him complimenting you like this wasn't unusual for your friendship, but that didn't stop your heart from skipping every time.
Jake walked behind Johnnie slapping him on the back of the head as he did. "What the fuck Jake." Johnnie snapped, rubbing the back of his head.
"You know what." Jake responded without hesitation, giving Johnnie a telling look.
You wondered what Jake could possibly mean by that, maybe there was something Johnnie wasn't telling you. Although it wasn't unlike the two of them to share an inside joke that was impossible for you to understand.
"Let's get back to work." You laughed pointing at the trunk.
Johnnie nodded, pushed his bangs out his eyes, and brushed your shoulder lightly while reaching into the trunk.
You, Johnnie, Jake, and Tara spent the next hour or two setting up for the party, the sun slowly disappearing as you came closer to being complete.
Just as the night arrived, so did many of your guests. People began pouring in in small, or large, groups. Tara waited at the door, greeting everyone upon arrival like the amazing host she was.
Unfortunately, without Tara, you could be pretty awkward at parties. You and Johnnie had that in common, which is why you found yourself hanging out in the corner with him.
Obviously you didn't mind, you loved hanging out with him after all. The two of you spent the early hours of the night attached at the hip, ignoring the busy sections of the party, and sipping on your drinks while making small talk with your friends.
You were on the way to refill your cup with water, fearing that you had had one too many when a clearly tipsy Tara grabbed your arm.
"Y/N! I've been looking for you all over! I need to get a clip of you to add in my video before I forget."
You happily obliged, excited that you were finally got to spend some time with your best friend.
She led you into the living room, a camera following the two of you.
"Come on, dance with me!" Tara said excitedly, throwing her hands up in the air.
You giggled, and joined her moving to the beat of the music. Tara only needed a few shots of the two of you for her video but she spent much longer dancing with you.
You hadn't realized how much time had passed until, a few more drinks and many songs later, your feet began to ache.
"Hey Tara, keep on having fun, I'm gonna go find Johnnie and then relax for a bit." Tara gave you a hug, just in case she didn't see you again that night, and then ran off to join a few of her friends.
It took you a few minutes of aimlessly searching to find Johnnie. When you did find him, you saw he was talking to Sam and Colby while sitting on your couch that had been pushed to the back of the living room.
You plopped down next to Johnnie, carelessly resting your pounding head on his shoulder.
"Hey look at who's back." Johnnie announced, looking over at you.
You smiled, nuzzling your nose into his neck. It must be all the alcohol mixed with the excitement giving you this newfound confidence.
You sat there for a moment, letting Johnnie finish his conversation.
While you waited you thought over the same situation from earlier, and suddenly the drawbacks to confessing your feelings didn't seem so bad.
Whether Johnnie felt the same or not he would always love you regardless, whether that love be platonic or romantic.
Sam and Colby walked off, marking the end of the conversation. Johnnie turned to you, and you picked your head up from its position on his shoulder.
"I think it would be best if we both got out of here." Johnnie got up, reaching his hands out to help you up.
You took his hands and allowed him to lead the both of you away from the chaos.
You followed Johnnie down the hall until he entered your room and shut the door behind the two of you.
You took a deep breath, it was nice to be in a calm space and away from the loud party. Although you could still hear the base pumping it was easier to ignore.
"This is much better." Johnnie collapsed onto your bed.
"Hmm, my room is a real creative way to get some alone time with me." You smirked sarcastically.
Johnnie's mouth fell open, his face turning red.
"Okay dirty minded." He retorted, fidgeting with his hands.
"As if you aren't" You snapped back playfully, plopping onto your bed.
Johnnie shoved you playfully, causing you to fall back into your pillows.
The pair of you exploded into a fit of laughter. The concerning amount of mixed drinks you had both had made the ordeal much more hilarious than it really was.
After several moments a silence fell over the two of you. You were laid back on your bed, Johnnie's body only inches from yours.
You may have been slightly drunk, but you were sober enough to remember your feelings.
You turned to face Johnnie, finding yourself face to face with his icy blue eyes.
Johnnie smiled at you, that signature, warm smile of his that you loved. The sincere, loving smile that he seemed to only ever use with you.
Johnnie reached out and brushed your messy hair out of your face.
"There, now I can see all of your pretty face."
Your heart stopped, suddenly all your nerves had returned. You were scared, scared of losing this, and of losing him.
You weren't going to let this stop you though. You had spent too long avoiding this, and today you would finally confess.
"Hey Johnnie,"
"Mhm"
"I have something important to you about." Your voice was shaky, and you were convinced he noticed.
You could see his eyes fill with concern, maybe you should have used less ominous wording.
"I've been wanting to tell you this for a long time, and PROMISE ME you won't make fun of me."
"Are you serious? After how long we've known each other what could I possibly make fun of you for?"
You turned away shyly, he did have a point.
"Okay, well this is different."
"Well then I have to know, spill it." Johnnie said as he nudged your shoulder.
You blushed, avoiding eye contact in order to hide how flustered you were.
"I love you Johnnie, not like a best friend, like in love." You spat out, still refusing to make eye contact. God you sounded like a stupid high school kid.
"Hey..." Johnnie whispered.
He cupped your cheek and forced you to look him in the eye. Goosebumps formed on your skin where his skin met yours.
"I'm in love with you too, and I have been for a long time.
Your heart felt like it was going to stop, especially since he was now so close his nose was brushing against yours.
You closed your eyes before taking the leap and closing the gap between the two of you. His lips were softer than you expected, and you hoped he didn't notice how dry yours were.
Johnnie pulled you closer to him, and you re-situated yourself on top of him.
You leaned down to kiss him again, but he stopped you abruptly.
"Shit!"
You looked at him concerned, wondering if you had done something wrong.
"I owe Jake money now!"
You began to laugh as your face landed in your hands.
"You two had a bet...about me?"
Johnnie giggled nervously, still underneath you.
"I'll explain later." He said, his eyes staring intently at your lips.
He pulled you down into another kiss, this one much more passionate than the last. You felt his hands run down your sides, grabbing longingly at your hips. You pushed your tongue into the roof of his mouth, causing him to grip your hair.
You let out a soft moan, which was followed by Johnnie flipping you over so that he could be on top.
Your lips not breaking apart once during the swift motion.
You continued to kiss him, your hands tugging at his shirt in an attempt to bring him even closer.
He began kissing your neck softly, as he reached behind you to fiddle with the zipper on your dress.
Just as things were heating up you heard the door swing open followed by an extremely loud voice.
"You better pay the fuck up bitch!!" Jake shouted cause the both of you to nearly jump out of your skin.
The two of you scrambled to sit up, adjusting your clothes as you did.
"What the fuck Jake!" You shouted, re-zipping your dress.
"Oh don't you start with me missy,"
"Tara come here I was right, look at them!"
You groaned, letting your head fall into Johnnie's chest.
"There, there." Johnnie patted your head sarcastically.
"Well, I hope you're okay with the whole world knowing." You say grumpily.
"Are you kidding, the whole world better know that I'm in love with you!"
You smiled, and kissed Johnnie on the cheek. If only you had done this sooner.
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factual-fantasy · 2 days
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10 asks!! Thank you!! :}} 🌚
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Well that's a hard one to answer.. how can I know what my most forgotten OC is, if I've forgotten about them? <XD
I guess what I can say is I did a OC drawing challenge that showed some old ocs of mine. I guess the "oldest OC" and the "most complex backstory OC" would qualify as "forgotten to time"..
I made them both a veeery long time ago.. and up until that post, I hadn't thought of them at all.. I hope this counts/answers your question! :}
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@beryl-shade
XD he'd probably think, "I can't wait to teach this bird to say things that will annoy the crap outa Octo" 🤣🤣
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(Referencing this post)(?)
AAA THABK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD I'm so happy people seem to like his name!! :}} ✨💞✨
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(Link in question)
XD Well idk if it would be as dramatic as that- but perhaps he is afraid of being brushed off in a similar way.. :( 💔
As for Tuna, I don't have anyone in mind that he would be interested in, so I'm not sure! :0
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@casp1an-sea
Oof, it's always unfortunate to hear when people find me through stolen artwork..
But hey, I'm glad you like what you see and found me at the source! All my artwork is posted to Tumblr. Find it anywhere else it's stolen 100% of the time!
You can find my Octonauts artwork under the #octonauts tag on my blog :00
I suppose it's very likely/possible! :0 Perhaps a pirate friendly port town? If those even exist--
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@atissueoranapkin
:DD!! AWE! THANK YOU!! :}}} ✨💞💞✨
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I'm not sure I know that real life chocolates you're relating this to.. but tbh it sounds like something that would fit into the games! :0 (I think-)
I wonder what my crew would do if they came across a ship like that.. id like to think they would have the means to rescue them and bring them back to shore.. 🥺🥺
Oh I'm sure they have many times! :D A day out on the beach sounds fun!
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Red is the only kid in the crew. :0 but he's only there because he's Seafoam's great nephew and he has nowhere else to go..
If they happened upon another little kid, their first idea would be to bring him to shore and pass him off to whoever would take him. :/
But if they found a kid that had no where else to go and no one would take him..? They'd hesitantly take them aboard too. <XD
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Actually that said I think it would be really funny if I changed my name to Vincent bc thats a very tboy name and also in accordance with the transmans curse people would end up calling me vinny. Which is so italian
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brightokyolights · 2 months
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...
#i am only typing this because im tired and feeling more loosey goosey than i usually would i guess#but ive just been debating something for a while now#so basically i used to just openly talk about like. everything on this blog but then due to a multitude of reasons#i stopped posting about certain things 1. because irl people found my blog and probably still could if they Really tried#2. because i didnt want to post about certain things and have absolutely anyone know shit about me#like as much as it can feel like a cosy wee community. just me and my mutuals <3 etc. its like. actually the fucking internet djdbdjdhdhjdh#anyways whats prompting me to type all this is that i used to post kinda negative stuff on here i guess you could say. like just my feelings#and shit. but i stopped because i want this to be a positive blog and i do feel like you can manifest shit you know? if i constantly reblog#posts where im like “i feel worthless and i am a piece of shit” that isnt helping anything you know? i think what really hammered it home#for me is when i saw a mutual rb something from me like that and it made me so sad tbh. because like. no youre not. youre amazing and ily#you know? anyways. overall i think it has been a decision for the best and i enjoy that my blog has become a more positive space. but i#do sometimes just feel like im kind of going the opposite direction where i act a certain way when im really just. feeling crap.#like all the time. idk maybe tumblr isnt the place for it but it used to be my outlet you know? and i have other things like my diary and#art and even a sideblog lmao. but i guess i do just mourn my whole self not being on this blog. idk what im trying to say by all this#is it this deep? am i thinking about this way too much lmao. idk. idk.#le text post
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toastsnaffler · 2 months
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everyone say thank u to my roommate for going to visit her parents this weekend so I can jack it loud and nasty 🙏
#i love her but there are some benefits to having the flat to myself.... love getting to wander around in just my boxers + a tshirt too#things i could do while she was still here if i wasnt a pussy 🙄#jk itd just make her uncomfortable and im too respectful for that#having a lowkey crush on her is an endless comedy to me bc we would be so woefully incompatible romantically#and also sexually.. historically ive only ever stone topped bc ive never been comfortable enough w anyone to let them fuck me#despite very much Not being stone or exclusively a top. and i think shes some form of sex repulsed anyway so like. sits there dead silence#and also shes so in love with her other friends and i showed up late to that party.... ive been feeling kinda guilty lately bc ik-#she misses them a lot and wishes we'd be able to stay roommates w them too. and im a pretty poor replacement for them tbh#and i love spending time with her but whenever i do i feel kinda painfully aware im not them like i could never fill that space#and asking to hang out more with her always feels like im taking away from time she could be talking to them. or even being alone ik she-#likes her own company and i get that a lot too so its chill but ahh.. man#i dont mean this in a bitter or jealous way at all like theyre all such sweet ppl i couldnt ever hold it against them#theyre kind of a 3 headed cerberus type situation and im like. the stray puppy they found on the side of the road#theres nothing they can do differently i was just born to be alienated from other ppl forever until i die. and someday i hope ill-#finally get used to it and accept i wont ever feel like im enough for anyone else or feel like anything else is enough for me#old wounds healed over 5082 times that still hurt to touch but i cant help pressing my fingers into them anyway bc its a familiar pain etc#anyway lost where i was going with this its just been on my mind again recently. i hate to be pitied i hate to feel like im only included-#bc they didnt want me to feel left out i hate feeling like a shoddy secondhand stand-in and its been a lot of that lately#also been a little annoyed bc sometimes it feels like shes trying to micromanage my social life and girl. we're not close enough for that#im sure its well intentioned but im not part of what they have going on i cant compete in that ring so dont try to push me into it..#ahhh. its all ok tho one of the guys is coming to visit next month which will be rly fun but ill try to give them some space too#its good at least im doing this processing now bc group situations can be spike traps of triggers for me sometimes#regardless of how good friends i am w ppl and ive already had a wobble a few weeks ago w how i cope and i dont want it to become a#fully fledged regular issue again bc its so hard to crawl back out of that pit. anyway losing coherence here im gonna stop rambling#and go make myself an early dinner and then back to drawing........#sorry for long tags if ur reading this blows u a kiss but go find a better use of ur time girl!!#.diaries
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moggleboggle · 1 year
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kinda sad about seeing a lot of indie people connecting to JP creators, esp musicians, and it’s usually by accident/after they prove their mettle and they deserve it. But I can’t seem to ever break in because of my medium+nobody status and while I usually don’t care, I’m starting to feel the loneliness and heat of being a nobody artist/writer. 
I haven’t done much to fix it, but like all things, I have no idea how except make an indie game or something since games have the most community and support/pull, while LNs don’t because they’re harder to understand across borders. They’re basically 90% prose, pics are very scarce in them, and it’s times like these where I wish I stuck to my manga plans, but with how tired I am+my bad luck with computers bc of being poor, I just can’t make one+I like the light novel format, actually. 
I gotta prioritize my health over “content” but sometimes I’m just like...it’s insane how lonely things are when you just...honor yourself and when you’re an insufferable twat with no connections into much of anything. Indie stuff is just as big of a game as normal industry stuff.
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westernsunshine · 1 month
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The overall concept of kids bringing their phones to school BAFFLES me tbh. Like what do you mean 10 year olds have phones? What do you mean they’re allowed to bring them to school???
#i got my first phone when i was 9 but it was literally only because i was going on a trip with my grandparents#my parents wanted a way to keep in touch with us and neither of my grandparents were interested in owning a phone at that time#(my granddad has one now but my grandma hates them with a passion. she doesn’t even like having a landline. she’s so based for that tbh)#anyway. it was a nokia brick and i LOVED it; i thought it was the best because it lit up at the sides and i could take tiny photos#i had about 10 numbers. whenever i got a new person’s number i would text them incessantly#i still was not allowed to take it to school and i wouldn’t have even WANTED to considering 1) what would i have been able to do with it?#we weren’t allowed to text or call people in class and that was really all my phone could do lol#and 2) it would’ve got stolen#tbh i never brought anything nice with me to school because it WOULD’VE got stolen. in the time i was there i had a coat; a bag#and two pencil cases stolen. oh and my watch but whoever stole it dropped it and a teacher found it#NONE of this stuff was as valuable as a phone. i got my pencil cases for £3 maximum at whsmith#so i am absolutely bamboozled at the concept of kids bringing SMARTPHONES to school. like what do you mean you as a parent are buying#something for your kid that costs hundreds of pounds and then LETTING THEM GO TO SCHOOL WITH IT???#‘oh they need to be able to get in touch with me and i need to be able to get in touch with them—‘ call the receptionist’s office#like a normal person!!! sorry but anyone who’s a parent of a school age kid… well most of us anyway. we’re old enough to remember LANDLINES#we’re old enough to know the concept that if someone is at a building; such as a school or workplace; that building has a LANDLINE PHONE#maybe several. and also: if your kid has gone MISSING from school then you need to call the police#that’s it!! if your kid needs you they need to go to school reception. if you need your kid you need to go to or call school reception#i’m sorry i’m not seeing why everyone needs a phone at school. the only thing i can think is if your bus/transport ticket or pass#is on there. even then - it should be in your bag & switched off throughout classes#tbh even at break time - socialise with people?? like by all means check your notifications quickly but you don’t need to be ON your phone#not at break and defffinitely not in class#i had a smartphone all through college and university and i never used it in class. like. i don’t get why people seem to think it’s okay#personal
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serdtse · 10 months
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gojoath · 4 months
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Hìi love, your yan yuta has me FERAL. i can't stop thinking about him, i want to know what's would happen if the reader finally snaps on yuta, i feel after (or during👀) all the chaos and threats the make up sex would be amazing
𐑺 ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ STAY HOME INSTEAD, OKKOTSU YŪTA
you loved your boyfriend, you did. but you think there’s only so much of his.. devoted personality you can take before the cracks begin to show.
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summary. fem reader. yandere boyfriend yūta. jealousy. obsession. you snap at him. it makes him even crazier tbh. biting / marking. manipulation. aged up characters. toxic relationships. possessive behaviours. threats (not towards reader but in his mind). he fantasises about locking you away. oral receiving. creampie. wc, 6.4k
note. hi anon :) thank you so much for fuelling the yan yūta agenda, i hope i was able to do this justice for u ❤︎ (ngl i think i blacked out 3k deep)
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today has been such a drag, you grumble to yourself as you trudge your way up the stairs to your apartment that feel harder today than any other day. your legs feel moments away from buckling underneath you, your eyes are tired and you’re in need of some food— a bath too maybe.
but still you don’t think you’ve ever been as excited for a dinner with your friends than you are tonight. it’d been a while since you’d gotten the chance to go to one, other plans getting in the way and something always seeming to crop up last minute. you sigh as you take the last step onto your floor landing and fiddle mindlessly with your keys before pressing them into your apartment lock with a satisfying click.
you just can’t wait to unwind first, maybe after a well deserved nap on the couch for an hour.
you let your belongings drop at your front door as you roll out your shoulders, sliding off your shoes before you’re taking your first step into your apartment to flick on the lamp in the corner. you can’t wait to be wrapped up on your couch, tangled in your blanket and the low, ambient lighting that always makes your naps ten times more fulfilling. your eyes are almost closing at the thought already—
“oh, you’re back” a steady voice sounds just as you push through the door to your living room, and the nature in which it catches you off guard makes you jump before it’s followed by two warm hands resting on your shoulders.
“shit—“ you gasp as you blink quickly, feeling the rate of your heart pick up suddenly despite the way you still feel half asleep and oh so exhausted. but your shoulders slump once more when you look up to meet the gaze of the voice’s source. “yuuta?”
your new boyfriend okkotsu yuuta was someone you’d describe as hauntingly handsome, in the same sort of way you’d be attracted to your celebrity crush shirtless in a movie and covered in blood after beating the villain. his features were always a little sleepy, dark circles despite the way he managed to sleep well his nights at yours, but his black hair framed them nicely. although you were never aware of his presence unless he wanted you to be, it was his charm, you’d tell your friends.
his name is barely out from between your lips before he leans into swallow it as he presses into you, you’d think it’d been days since he’s seen you with the need that he pours into the kiss. his hands rest in their place on your hips and his fingertips squeeze into the skin, just enough to have your mouth opening to gasp before he seals it.
he takes the opportunity, drinks up the reactions you have to his touch as his tongue presses past your lips to graze against your own. it’s heated and impatient, every movement of his mouth feels like it’s set to devour you completely and you feel your lungs clench with the sudden need to breathe before you try to push him away.
“are you okay?” yuuta’s question is instantaneous with the break of your lips,
but your boyfriends gaze is lidded as he looks over you and you always found it to be quite intriguing despite the way others may call it something else. there was no shine to his eyes, no vitality, only this dull disinterest that only seemed to glow faintly whenever it touched yours. it was like a constant continual stare that made goosebumps prick along your skin, but also made you feel like it wanted to tear you out of it entirely.
people might find it unnerving but you always found the blue in yuuta’s eyes rather tranquil.
“you just scared me.” you let your head roll back slightly as you place your palm on your chest, trying to quell the erratic movement of your heartbeat against your ribs before it bounces out completely. you send your boyfriend a small glare, albeit nothing too serious before you’re wriggling out of his hold and walking further into the room.
“ah, sorry.” yuuta replies gently as he sends you a soft smile and scratches at the back of his neck. but his eyes remain on you as you cross the floor, finding purchase on the couch before he’s following suit to rest in the space beside you as the cushions dip under your combined weight.
“how did you get in here?” you ask, a resonant hum despite the way you’re not really listening as you focus on trying to get yourself comfortable instead, leaning back to grab the blanket that rests so invitingly on the back of your seat before you’re rolling it out and tucking yourself into it.
“oh, uh.. the door was open.” you don’t really register yuuta’s reply and you’re too tired to press the subject further, especially when he’s letting you rest your thighs in his lap so comfily. maybe if you were a little more awake you’d have remembered the click of your lock just minutes ago as you opened it. but right now his hands squeeze affectionately at your skin as you push yourself down onto your side, and you feel amazing as you rest your head on the arm of the sofa to breathe softly.
“i thought we could stay in tonight.” there’s a hopefulness to his words as he looks over you, eyes fixated on your drowsy features as his hands coax comfort into your bones with every graze of his fingertips. it’s like he’s convincing you, watching the way your eyelashes flutter and kiss the apples of your cheeks, like it’ll get him what he wants. “then we can stay like this forever.”
that’s how it always was, and it seemed to work— the past few weekends atleast.
“oh, i cant tonight. i have dinner.” you drawl soundly, your voice more of a dreamy, high pitched purr as yuuta’s hands work at your skin.
“oh, who will be there?” but his reply is still quick and despite the way your eyes are closed, you can feel the way his gaze cuts through you,
“just a few people from work, it’s been a while since i’ve been able to make one.” you don’t pay any mind to the squeeze of your boyfriends hands on your skin suddenly. his voice steals back your attention again before you can focus on it too much as he chews nervously on his lower lip.
“i don’t know them, maybe i should come.”
it’s a little irritating, the way yuuta is choosing to have this unnecessary conversation now— the agitation only being fuelled by the way his voice keeps pulling you out of your drowsy state of mind.
he’d gotten like this a few times, you’d opted to spend the last few weekends in your apartment with him which in turn meant denying the invitations that came before this one. you understood that he could get jealous, his devotion to you was quite flattering in a way, his need to constantly have you next to him just so he could ensure your safety, that’s what it was. he just wanted to keep you safe.
but that doesn’t mean it didn’t verge on overbearing at times, especially when yuuta always ended up following behind you at your heels everywhere you went. even before you both actually got together, you always found it to be some strange twist of fate that you both consistently managed to bump into eachother every time you left the house,
“yuuta, stop. you don’t have to follow me everywhere, i’m fine.” your words are sharper now and it makes his body tense, your eyes begrudgingly blinking open as you stare blankly at the wall opposite you both. why won’t you meet his gaze? why aren’t you looking at him?
“but how will they know you’re mine?” like the bites and hickies yuuta always greedily left on your skin weren’t proof enough, he always got a little agitated when you’d try to cover them up afterall. his fingers twitch in your thighs again and his voice wavers, it’s unsteadier than it was a few moments ago as his body looms closer to your own, curling over you slightly like how a cat would corner a mouse, but you pay him no mind.
“they’ll know.”
“but, you’ll be alone.”
“yuuta, i said to stop.” you snap as you push yourself up to sit, any remnants of sleep that you were clinging to have been swallowed up completely by the agitation that burns you now. you ignore the way yuuta’s hand reaches out to pull you back as you stand, not even sending him a second glance as you make your way out of the living room with a long, drawn out huff. “i’m going to get ready.. or am i not allowed to do that without you either?”
“sorry,” yuuta’s shoulders sag as he stares into the doorway that your figure just disappeared behind and he feels something sinister burn in his chest as his gaze widens. his next inhale is ragged as he hunches forward to rest his elbows on his thighs, his head is in his hands and he feels dizzy with the frustration that settles in his bones.
it’s not fair, why are they trying to take you from him?
“don’t be mad,” his words are muttered whispers, smeared into his palms as his fingertips shake. another unnerving moment of silence and his hands are shoved in his hair before they’re pulling at his roots. “i don’t like when you’re mad at me.” it’s unhinged, terrifying how quiet he seems to appear despite the way he’s anything but as he curls over himself.
yuuta’s words are barely audible, spoken only to himself and they’re nothing more than obsessive babbling under his breath, they’re disjointed and wavering under the spiral of his own overwhelming emotions. “i’ll kill them, this is their fault.” but they’re a declaration, determined— he’s driven by his devotion to you. nobody will come between you and your love. he has to kill them, he has to, he has—
“yuuta?” your voice reverberates and his movements halt suddenly before his head tilts to the source of the sound, but the way he looks at you is intense enough to make you feel rooted in place as you stand above him. he hadn’t notice you coming back in, maybe you hadn’t left him all alone without you, he knew you’d come back. “what are you doing?” his eyes were there, but it was like he wasn't seeing anything, like he was stuck in a nightmare, a vision that was at play in front of him that only he could see.
but he still manages to send you an almost misplaced, unnervingly sweet smile.
“they’re trying to take you away from me.” yuuta whispers, softly as you tilt your head in his direction. something in your bones is telling you to move, to run, but there’s an energy that surrounds him that dares you to. he’d catch you. it’s a threatening sort of pressure that you feel weigh down on your body, it feels like it swallows you completely and the space between you feels so tight that you can barely get enough air in your lungs.
you sway slightly as he pushes himself to stand, letting you stumble back before he’s steadying you, urging you to close the already close proximity before he’s letting his fingers stroke gently at your cheek. you feel trapped, figuratively and literally because the way he’s holding you is tight and as much as you want to try to break free, you still seem to lean into his touch.
“but you’re mine, your heart, your body, everything.” his tone is so sweet, almost polite and it makes a shiver trail down your spine. another soft, featherlight stroke of yuuta’s fingertips and you feel something warm burn along the back of your neck, although you’re not too sure if it’s a positive reaction yet. “because i love you.” it’s intense and too much, you’d only been together a few weeks and now he’s confessing to you like it’s nothing, like you should’ve known all along.
“you’re scaring me.” you manage to finally say as you place your hands on your boyfriends chest, but you don’t push him away yet. you stare up at him, because even despite the mused black hair that falls over his eyes— you think it’s a little confusing that the broken pieces of him only seem to make you want him closer, to put him back together. it was his charm.
“don’t be scared, this is pure love.” you let him pull you closer again and your palms remain on his chest, until almost by instinct, they’re lured to wrap around his shoulders instead. maybe it’s the sweet words he’s speaking gently into your ear, the way he’s holding you so softly despite the way you can feel the weight that’s keeping you pinned to him. “i have you, so i don’t need anything else.”
like he’d seal your body against his for eternity if you weren’t careful.
“stay with me.” yuuta asks again because he loves you, he gives you the choice despite the way he could easily lock you in here by force if he needed to. he dreams to, to have you all to himself— then there wouldn’t be any outside forces to tear you away from him, he wants to have you by his side forever.
but because you’re good and you love him, he knows he won’t have to do that just yet. right?
you’re wordless, you don’t speak as you blink up at him but he takes your silence as acceptance as he hums out a pleased sort of sound before he’s pulling you in again. it’s full of teeth and spit this time as he kisses you, like he’s devouring a meal— like he’s hungry, starved of affection and you’re a banquet of it, for him to feast as he pleases. until he’s full.
something burns in your chest and you don’t notice the way your thighs seem to be trembling until you take an unsteady step back as yuuta’s weight presses into you. as much as he lets you before he’s pulling you back again.
maybe it’s the way he kisses you that has you pliant, that has you eagerly meeting him with soft presses of your lips— trying to keep up with every wet press of his tongue as he sucks your lower lip between his teeth to bite. you’re lightheaded and warm but you can’t deny that something similar to fear still lingers underneath your skin when he pulls back to look over you again.
but why is the dread making everything feel so much better? maybe you’re just as twisted as he is.
it’s so fast the way yuuta moves you, the way you find yourself so seamlessly back on the couch before he’s caging you in, pushing you into the cushions as his body presses between your thighs. he notices the way your gasps of his name trail off at the end, he hears the whispery, breathy, pouty sound your lips make as you lean into him, so desperate to pull him closer as your thighs wrap around his hips and he knows what it is.
“see, it’s love.” he gulps and the sound makes your toes curl from where you’re sat, because he says it like he’s never been so sure of anything in his life as he pulls away to smile down at you. it’s sweet and warm, emphasised by the way his cheeks are a little flushed from your kisses— along with his lips as he gives you an adoring look and you try to brush off the pinpricks of arousal with a deep breath.
maybe this was love.
“but i’m done talking now.” the floor creaks as yuuta leans forward into you, his words taking a lower sort of drawl when he tilts your head to the side— revealing more of the skin between your shoulder blade and jawline as he kisses along the space. he’s overwhelmed with how good you smell immediately, your body heat, the feeling of your fingers in his hair before they pull at the roots with every rough graze of his teeth and he’s pretty sure his brain scrambles at the touch.
it’s needy and a little wild the way he’s suckling marks into your skin, closing his lips around the previous ones he’s left that he thinks are getting a little too faded as he rolls them back between his teeth. you’re almost trembling beneath him, arching into him— pulling him even closer and he could get used to this, being wrapped in you, having you beneath him. what would he have to offer you to make you stay by his side forever?
yuuta’s palming at your clothes and you’re whispering sweet little pleas that drive him fucking crazy, he’s so consumed with lust he thinks he might actually pass out as his teeth sink so deep into the crook of your neck he almost draws blood.
“yuuta, please.” you try, beg for him to give you what you need but the sweet sound only makes him press himself deeper into you, the hem of your shirt slinking up with his wrists as they smooth up your body.
“will you give me all of you?” his voice cracks under the weight of his arousal as he feels you move beneath him, hips clasped tight around his and your pussy feels like fucking silk against his cock, even with the fabric between you as it sticks to his overheating skin.
but yuuta needs to hear you say it, needs to hear you say that you’re his for him to take, to mark, to adore. it’s easier when it’s done by choice, he can tell you love him when you gasp out his name in that pretty, dreamy tone or when your eyes remain on his despite the way his threaten to swallow the way yours glow.
“yesyes, just please.” your wound up so tight but the already shaky thread that was holding onto the dwindling weight of his sanity snaps when you grab at his hair to pull again.
yuuta makes a ragged sort of sound as he eases himself away from your lips to kneel on the floor beside the sofa, the gentleness in which he does is a stark contrast to the way he pulls at the fabric between you both— almost ripping the light material with the strength that always seems to surprise you when you notice it. like he’s hiding it.
“see, you don’t need anyone else. i can take care of you.” his dark pupils are blown as they look over you and you’re sure they look similar to the last sight a rabbit would see before it was ripped apart by a fox. you don’t dare to speak, to argue because the fear leaves you pliant, soft beneath him as he shoves down your clothes, then your panties as his warm fingers dig into your aching flesh.
you feel yuuta’s lips press into your abdomen before his teeth follow suit, accompanied by the way he’s dragging and working his tongue along your skin as he squeezes at your thighs. there’s a flush high on his cheek, driven by the mindless throb in his cock and you’d think he looks adorable if you didn’t feel like he was about to make you food.
it makes you feel even hotter.
mine, he murmurs against your skin— buries it there, like the skin will remember before he’s suckling another raised mark, covering you in a brand as he suckles a messy, drooled kiss into your hip.
“yuu, please~” you whisper as you lift your head up to watch yuuta lean back onto his knees and throw your thighs over his shoulders with a long exhale through his teeth. your legs twitch against his cheeks as the warm air blows over your folds and it makes yuuta’s cock throb in his pants before he’s wasting no more time waiting.
it’s filthy, the urge in which he presses his mouth into you as your head rolls back, curling his tongue around your pussy before he’s dragging it up higher— laving your clit in messy, suckled kisses and rolls of his tongue. your boyfriend had always been an enthusiastic eater, he ate you out like he wanted to die there— to live, eat, breathe your fucking pussy and he really wishes you’d give him that choice already.
another claim, another mine buried between your folds and the low, needy tone of yuuta’s voice sends blissful vibrations straight through your clit. the way he’s smacking and slurping at your slick is loud and you’d almost be embarrassed if you’re head didn’t feel like it was full of cotton, because you’re so wet and it feels so good.
he can feel the way you’re dripping down his cheeks, you’re almost babbling as he buries himself even deeper into you until his hips twitch with want, you’re so eager— so consumed by him he thinks you’d give him anything right now if he asked. this is exactly how he loves you.
your head falls forward slightly and your hands move to twist in yuuta’s hair again, pulling at the dark roots but the searing pain only makes him feel drunker on the taste of you. it urges him to press his tongue against the entrance to your pussy, whimpering at the first needy squeeze of your walls that greet him. mine—
your eyelashes flutter but his dark gaze remains on you during every moment. he needs to see every second of you like this, so consumed by lust and by him. your hips are desperate, needily humping against his tongue and he thinks it’s adorable, it’s his— your his, your body, your mind. he’ll carve his name on your every thought until he’s all you have left.
you twitch beneath him and he only leans more of himself on top of you, burying himself between your thighs as his large palms bare down on your hips so tight you’re sure they’ll bruise. he doesn’t want to stop, he can’t, not until you’re creaming on his tongue— giving him all of you, he needs everything.
“give it to me. all of it.” yuuta grunts, orders as your eyes finally lift to touch his and it makes you burn so hot you’d swear fire lived within his gaze. he lets you guide him to where you want him but he knows what you need, so he hums before he’s hooking his tongue around your clit once more.
he feels the bud grow firmer, more sensitive when he’s twisting and laving it in licks that you meet with eager, intoxicating twitches of your hips. “s-so good,” he knows it is, he’s studied you enough to know that, watched you play with your pretty pussy through your apartment window too many times for him to count, he knows what makes you twitch and how pretty you look as you cum. he’s so eager to see it now.
“g’nna cum.” you gasp and it almost makes yuuta pass out as he bares eagerly into you, pulling you deeper into his mouth as he trails his tongue underneath the hood of your clit and his lips close around it. he suckles languidly and you fucking tremble as your fingertips twitch against his scalp, his own needy moans muffled into the dips of your cunt as the warm bliss begins to curl and lick down your spine.
“look at me.” he needs to see you, see the love that pools in your eyes from him as your gaze peeks open— clouded with lust and so pretty he swears he almost cums in his pants. another press of his tongue and it’s instantaneous the way your body stiffens, breathing out his name like a hormone-drunken plea, like it’s the only word you know as your orgasm makes your toes curl.
you hear yuuta whine, long and low, with the first taste of your cream along his tongue as he drinks you up greedily, swallowing loudly with every eager slurp while his lidded gaze doesn’t waver from yours. you’re still looking at him albeit blurry, hands in his hair and he thinks you’re beautiful like this,
it doesn’t take long until you’re trembling with overstimulation, his cheeks and chin damp with your slick and his spit and you know if you don’t pull him away he’ll keep going. so you send him a pleading sort of pretty look that makes him bend for you so willingly as you lead him back up to you by his hair.
although the hard press of his cock against your sensitive cunt only reminds you of what’s to come.
“i need you, please.” he gasps when you pull him in for another kiss, so fucking sexy as you both moan at the taste of you along his tongue and it only makes yuuta throb against the inside of your thigh when you nod. he eagerly pushes down his slacks in response.
his fingers twitch into your hips before he’s pulling you towards him, letting your lower back press into the edge of the couch as he mounts you like an animal, like something carnal as he feels your skin tremble beneath him.
this was what it meant to be okkotsu yuuta’s, to belong to him. why would you pass this up for a night with your friends? you don’t need them, he’s all you’ll ever need. they wouldn’t have you trembling like he does, pouty lips and eyes glazed overs when you feel the first graze of his cock along the inside of your thigh.
the hunger in his gaze almost seems misplaced against the flush of his cheeks, but it still makes something race down your spine when you catch a glimpse of it through the dark bangs that fall relaxed over his features, still mused from your fingertips.
yuuta’s lips part against yours when the tip of his cock presses against the entrance to your cunt, and the sound he makes is almost tender as one of his hands come to softly brush along your cheek bones again. he holds you there, before he pulls away to rest his forehead to yours, to meet your gaze as he finally begins to sink into you and it feels so intimate, soft despite the bruising grip his other hand holds on your hips.
he sucks his lower lip between his teeth as he murmurs with a mixture of need and delight, he’d been waiting for this all day— to finally sink up into you, this is what you could have everyday if you’d just let him move in. he doesn’t care if it’s only been a few weeks, maybe he’ll pull another orgasm out of you— wait until you’re pliant and drowsy before he proposes the idea.
then you’d never have to leave again.
your thighs twitch as yuuta grazes past your swollen spots and he hopes the reaction is really because you can read his mind, maybe you want him just as much as he wants you. this really was pure love, and the realisation makes him smile before he whimpers when your walls reward the stretch of his cock with another needy squeeze around him.
his cock was pretty, long enough to make your toes curl and your pussy clenches hard around him the deeper he goes as he groans, leaning in to smear messy kisses along your cheeks as you grab and scratch at his shoulders. he hopes you leave marks.
yuuta’s hips stutter when he finally bottoms out and it’s like a reward the way you breathe out his name. the weight of his hips lean against yours as they keep you against the edge of the couch, and his fingers grope a little too hard at your skin as he breathes deep.
for the first time tonight, his eyes are clenched shut and he already misses the sight of you. but he thinks if he catches even a glimpse of you right now he’ll give into the needy coax of your pussy before he’s even had a chance to take what’s truly his.
another trembled exhale and yuuta’s breathing hitches when he feels you lean forward to kiss him once on the cheek, mumbling something affirming that has him shaking before he’s drawing his hips back.
“i love you.” he gasps and your pussy flexes again, as if it’s trying to coax back in every inch you lose— it’s like it’s telling him it loves him too as your body pulls a breathier croon of your name from his lips. his first real thrust is a little too eager, it’s clumsy and he whimpers before he readjusts himself on his knees to begin a real pace that’s a little steadier. it’s one that has your toes curling againwhen he hugs you closer, listening to him pant and moan softly between your own moans as his lips smear against your cheek.
“please, i love you.” again, and your hips grind up to meet his— you can’t deny that the affirmation makes you feel warm, something twisting in your gut that you feel too lightheaded to pinpoint.
maybe it is love, maybe it’s not too soon to think that way when he has you feeling this good.
your lips part to moan his name as he rocks forward again and he pushes against something sensitive inside of you as you arch—try to, although his strong grasp manages to keep you in place.
“i love you too.” your mind is hazy and you think it’s mostly a spur of the moment confession rather than a real one but you don’t care at this point when it only makes yuuta’s pace increase. he only gets faster, needier and that same pressure that you felt around him earlier is back as it bares down on you both— pressing you deeper into the cushions like it’s only driving him more.
your body jolts against his, every rock of his hips making the mess between your thighs squelch loudly around your apartment and every quick thrust leaves you breathless. his movements are driven by love, pure devotion to you like he’s proving that nobody will be able to take care of you like he can. he’ll kill anyone who tries.
“i— ah, i knew it. you love me.” yuuta’s words are barely audible, they’re unsteady and needy— almost lost behind the loud clapping of his hips into yours. but you can hear the joy in them, a soft sort of chirp that has a chill bursting along your skin despite how hot you feel. he only forces his cock deeper into your slick cunt following your little confession because you love him, you love him, he knew you did. it was obvious, he could tell. that means you’ll be his forever, you don’t leave people that you love.
his pelvis grinds against your clit and your hands are back in his hair to pull again as his lips part at the sting, making his cock throb from where he’s pressing into you. “again.” please, he gulps, words like a plea, letting his slender fingers trace between your bodies to roll your puffy clit like he’s trying to lure it out of you again.
your breathing skips as you mutter out another i love you, it’s like a prayer rather than a confession as you babble mindlessly so lost in your pleasure as your pussy throbs around him.
“yuu—“ you squeal, but yuuta almost threatens to swallow you whole when his hand hooks around the back of your neck to pull you into another kiss as you cum. his hips press into yours, snug and tight with the first milking compression of your walls and you feel the spit trail down your lips as they move with his. but he licks it up so lewdly before he pushes his tongue back against yours.
the mindless movements of his mouth accompanied by the back and forth stutter of his hips makes you almost see white as he fucks you through another mind-numbing orgasm. “it’s s-so good, it’s perfect.” and it’s his, he rasps and the praise pours down your spine as you chant his name breathlessly into each kiss despite the way his thrusts interrupt the press of your lips.
yuuta’s haunting gaze opens as he admires you, drinks in the way your eyelashes kiss your cheeks— the way your eyes crinkle slightly with each particularly deep kiss of his cock. he lets them drop between you next, to take in the gooey ring of liquid that forms around the base of him everytime he draws his hips back. to admire the orgasm that he earned, that he owns as he pushes another hissed i love you between your lips.
your breathing becomes laboured as drowsiness sets in and he takes that as his signal to let himself go as his cock throbs with the weight of his orgasm, making him shake above you. his lips are still on yours before he lets them close around your tongue, suckling messily as he pushes his load into your puffy pussy, finally losing himself in the fluttering pull of your body.
you feel yuuta’s arm hook around your waist, tightening in some attempt to pull you closer despite the way his thrusts have been reduced to slow humps into you before they finally cease completely. but his lips still manage to bathe you in soft, affectionate kisses as they follow a path along your cheeks and lips.
you’re both spent, falling into a slump against the side of the couch as your ass slides off to rest on the floor beneath you and you stay like that for a few moments as you catch your breath. his kisses stop albeit momentarily as he pulls away to look at you, and you think it’s charming the way he’s flushed to his chest and still a little awkward looking despite the way you can literally feel his cock softening inside of you.
yuuta smiles at you, it’s kind and warm and it makes you forget all about the plans you were supposed to have before his palm is cupping your cheek again, and he’s kissing you once more on the lips. “sorry, i’ll run you a bath.” he breathes, laughs softly against your lips and you hum in acknowledgment before you wrap your arms around his shoulders.
you could stay like this forever, you admit.
another long press of his lips against yours and you’re both roused from your dreamy little makeout session when you hear the shrill vibration of your phone on the couch behind you. your eyes widen at your friends contact ID and you’re suddenly reminded about the plans you were supposed to have as you try to scramble to your feet, albeit shakily and a little messy when you feel yuuta’s cum eagerly smear against the inside of your thighs.
“shit, i forgot.” you gasp and it’s almost by instinct the way he feels his gaze darken, threateningly when you rush to your feet to pad towards the bathroom after giving him another quick kiss, although you don’t recognise the murderous intent. he loves you afterall. it’s not for you.
he feels his shoulders slump as he rests in the living room now, soft cock and half naked before he hears the running water of the shower switch on. he’s pretty sure he could ruin your little plans in the time it takes you to shower, it wouldn’t take him long infact. he’s pretty sure he left his katana in your bedroom when he arrived. if he left right now he could—
“yuuta! aren’t you coming in?” maybe another day.. maybe, he’s got love in his life now afterall as he finds himself rushing to your side.
it’s almost an hour later as yuuta rests on your bed, his hair is wet now— falling over his dark gaze and if he’d successfully managed to pull you into bed with him, he’s sure he’d be asleep by now. but his attention is still all on you, watching you lift up the various discarded outfits you’ve left thrown around your room as you look for your phone.
“yuuta, have you seen my phone? ugh, i literally just had it in the living room and now it’s gone.” you grumble, frustrated and despite how tired he feels— he still manages to perk up a little when you round the bed to look under the comforter beneath him. “could you help me look?”
he’d do anything for you.
almost anything, because instead of looking for your phone— he lets his fingers wrap gently around your wrist as you hover over him and he only pulls you closer, urging you to fall against his chest before you’re grumbling about how late you already are. but you’re not putting up much of a fight, you must want to stay here with him.
“don’t leave. you said you’d never leave me.” yuuta hums as he watches you push yourself up against his chest, hooking one of your thighs over his hips so you’re able to straddle his waist. you think you do remember saying something like that, although you can’t really be held accountable for everything you do when your boyfriend has you pressed against the shower wall.
his hands fall into their place at your hips and he sends you another lidded look before you sigh.
“yuuta, i’m already so late i need to find it.” you try, but he’s not convinced.
“i need you first, all of you. then i’ll help you look.” he had a way of melting you, irritatingly so when his words are accompanied by a strong rock of your hips against his. it’s controlled by his hands and in the exact spot he knows you like as you bite on your lip nervously, but you let him because you love him, don’t you?
don’t worry about being late, he made sure to text your friends from your phone to let them know the plans had changed before he decided to keep it safe in the pocket of his slacks anyway.
you: sorry, can’t make it tonight. busy for the next few months.
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il-miele-che-scrive · 2 months
Text
Go for his brother part 2
Part 1 here
Part 3 here
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username1 DOUBLE BETRAYAL 😭
↳username2 wdym bro wtf Arthur is just getting his karma, he CHEATED on Y/n with her best friend
↳username2 and Y/n only got with his brother after the breakup
username3 It's so crazy to me how not long ago Y/n was with Arthur at Charles' race and we could see them all lovey dovey and now she's with Charles 💀
username4 I hope they actually like each other and it's not just something Y/n schemed to get back at Arthur
↳username5 And even if it is, so what? Both Leclercs deserve this if she's doing it for the sake of revenge
username4 What did Charles ever do to you 😭 he's a literal pookie
username6 I am BEGGING to find out Arthur's reaction
username7 I wanna see this on Drive To Survive lmao
↳username8 The most interesting thing in the whole season lol
username9 Exactly! Men driving in circles? Nah, fuck that, give me family drama
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yourusername The Art & The Artist
view all comments
charles_leclerc I took way more than these 2 pictures, should post them all
↳yourusername some would get me banned🤭
username1 MY OH MY
username2 What did she say 😐
username3 I'm jealous but haven't decided if I want him or her
username4 Arthur better not read this comment section (I hope he will)
francisca.cgomes Thanks for blessing my eyes 🫶
↳yourusername You're welcome bestie🫶
username4 it's so nice to see Y/n found a friend who won't steal her bf
username5 You can't be sure, it's Charles Leclerc we're talking about. You think he wouldn't go for his best friends' girlfriend who is now his own girlfriends' best friend after pulling what he's just pulled?
username4 ngl girl I got lost in whatever you're saying
yoursister In your iconic girl era ❤️
↳yourusername I slayed didn't I 💅
username6 Honestly guys I believe it's not just a revenge scheme
↳username5 What makes you think that?
username6 Given these pictures and the pictures from the gossip page they look pretty much happy to me, too happy for it to be fake
username5 Whatever you say, we'll see. They have to get tired of pretending one day
exbestfriend Glowing ✨🩷
↳yourusername 😐
↳francisca.cgomes 😐
↳yoursister 😐
↳charles_leclerc 😐
↳pierregasly 😐
↳georgerussell63 😐
↳carmenmmundt 😐
↳alex_albon 😐
↳lilymhe 😐
username7 Y/N AND HER COMMENT SECTION ARE ICONIC 😭
↳username8 I can't stop imagining them having a gc and she sent a screenshot of her ex best friend's comment like "you know what to do, guys" 🤣
username9 I just know Arthur is screaming crying throwing up because LOOK AT WHAT HE LOST
username10 Lol who's next? Toto Wolff?
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arthur_leclerc My favorite love story is ours ❤️
view all comments
exbestfriend So happy we found each other ❤️❤️
username1 💀
username2 Alright they both have the audacity
username3 your love story is cheating on Y/n lmao
username4 Imagine they have a kid one day who'll ask mom dad how did you meet lol
↳username3 I'd be EMBARRASSED
username5 They deserve each other tbh
username6 Hey but... What if this pic and Y/n's pics were taken on the same day...
↳username7 wdym
username6 Arthur wanted to keep and eye on his ex and his brother from afar 😭
username7 it's terrible but possibly true lmao
exbestfriend I'm so sick of people judging us
↳username2 That's what you deserve, the both of you
↳username4 when actions have consequences:😮
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yourusername Back at the paddock ❤️
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username1 At least she didn't downgrade right?
yoursister You guys look so good together
↳yourusername Thank you 🫶 ily
↳charles_leclerc Yes we do 😊
↳username2 Y/s/n never commented anything like this when Y/n used to post with Arthur😭
lilymhe It was nice catching up with you when the boys were playing
↳yourusername maybe next time you and Alex could come over so the boys can play some video games together
username3 Pls they're just two single mothers bonding over their toddlers being besties😭
username4 I NEED TO KNOW IF ARTHUR WAS THERE
↳username5 You crazy? Ofc he wouldn't have come, he's too scared of confrontation
username4 Okay but then what if one day Y/n and Charles get married? Will Arthur just skip his brother's wedding?
username5 I think some time will pass before Charles decides to settle down. And not with Y/n, that's for sure
username6 Why not? Y/n makes a much better couple with Charles than she did with Arthur
username5 Charles would never take her seriously lol she dated his brother, Charles is just having fun with her while letting her have her moment
arthur_leclerc Are you wearing the dress you wore on our first date?
↳username2 SHE'S WHAT?????
↳username3 wtf are u doing here
↳yourusername Maybe...
username4 Mother keeps slaying 😭👏
username7 I aspire to be like Y/n fr
alex_albon Lily said we should have a double date
↳yourusername Let's do it then @/lilymhe @/charles_leclerc when and where
arthur_leclerc I just wonder when will you get bored of this
↳yourusername Bored of what exactly? Going to races? You know I've always enjoyed looking at cars go vroooom
arthur_leclerc You know what I mean
arthur_leclerc Of pretending to like Charles just to prove me some delusional point
yourusername You really think I'd waste my energy on that? It's a funny coincidence indeed, but I do like him actually
arthur_leclerc Mhm sure I give you maybe 6 months more, can't keep pretending forever
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charles_leclerc A family gathering & the morning after
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username1 OH GREAT HEAVENS
pierregasly Now that's something none of us expected
↳username2 bro speaking facts
username3 They said fuck you Arthur you'll get a proof we're not pretending😭
username4 Well at least the family already knew her
↳username5 Pascale liked Y/n so much she said girl you have my blessing no matter which one u marry
username3 Guys do you think Arthur was there? You know, it's a family gathering, so he had to be there, right?
alex_albon Charles settling down wasn't on my bingo card this year
↳lilymhe Neither was it on mine but I love it
francisca.cgomes Girl you realize there's no going back now? 😂
↳yourusername I hope so😜🫶
arthur_leclerc I still can't believe how disrespectful you both are
↳charles_leclerc Look who's speaking of being disrespectful
↳yourusername stfu arthur maman literally had to kick you out of the party
username3 The way it used to be "Thurthur" and now it's "stfu arthur" 😶
username2 at least the "maman" is the same right
username5 I feel like Pascale likes Y/n more than she likes Arthur
username7 wtf guys PASCALE HAD TO KICK ARTHUR OUT OF THE PARTY 😭😭
↳username8 That's crazy, imagine how's the wedding gonna look like
carlossainz55 Getting engaged after a few weeks? Is she pregnant?😂
↳username9 Not funny
username10 Chill that's just millennial humour from back when pregnancy outside marriage was a disgrace
↳charles_leclerc We've known each other long enough to make this decision 🫢
carlossainz55 Valid point
arthur_leclerc But for majority of this time she was my girlfriend
charles_leclerc On which you cheated
arthur_leclerc @/yourusername did you use me just to get to Charles? Was it your plan from the beginning?
↳yourusername Sure because I have nothing else to do lmao
↳yourusername We've talked about it yesterday arthur, don't start again
arthur_leclerc I just still can't believe Charles would do something like that to me
yourusername And half a year ago I believed you wouldn't have ever cheated on me
charles_leclerc I said it yesterday and I'll say it again, Arthur I will always love you as a brother, but you messed up big time, you can't be mad at us
2K notes · View notes
cavillscurls · 8 months
Text
Sugar & Spice | Joel Miller x Reader
This is a follow up to Soft & Sweet. It can be read as a standalone, but it is highly encouraged to be read as a sequel!
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: You lose your virginity to Joel Miller.
Warnings/tags: MDNI. Foul language. Alcohol consumption. Drunken behavior. Arguing. Implied age gap (no numbers specified). Insecure Joel. Soft Joel. Loss of virginity. Reader is not clueless, just inexperienced. Praise. Dirty talk. Pet names. Joel guides reader through it. Oral (f receiving). Fingering. Unprotected p in v. Mentions of pain during sex. After care. Unbearable fluff. No mentions of body type or race, except slight implication reader is shorter than Joel. Platonic Ellie x Reader.
Word count: 9.8k (i’m sorry??)
soft!joel collection masterlist.
a/n: i am so thrilled to be sharing this with y’all! i’ve been working so diligently on it, and i’m really proud of the final product. special thanks for my bea @cupofjoel for reading so many parts of this and listening to me ramble on and on about ideas. tbh, we have also decided game joel suits this story a lot better, but if you’re imagining hbo joel, he canonically has long hair for this. see pic above. ty all for all the support on part 1!
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You went on your date.
Two weeks after sharing your first kiss with Joel Miller, and you had yet to cross paths with him again. The excuse was air tight: Maria was only weeks away from labor which meant neither she nor Tommy were on the patrol routes. Times shifted, and for the next month, you and Joel would be on separate schedules. You knew it wasn’t permanent, that he would have no choice but to face you in a few weeks. But something about the way he averted from your gaze within Jackson’s wall, the quick pick up to his feet whenever you would accidentally cross paths in the town square, had your stomach in a knot.
Joel was avoiding you.
At first, the realization devastated you. You spent days cooped up in your room when you had no other necessary duties, ashamed of the tears you let stain your pillowcase. Your chest lingered with an unfamiliar ache that had once been ignited by his lips, but was now a throbbing reminder of a moment shared and lost. You pitied yourself, and it was sickening.
Then, you were angry. How dare he? Who did he think he was? Even if it was just any old run of the mill kiss, you didn’t think his respect for you would reduce that drastically. To not even acknowledge your presence? It was like a knife to the back. And after dwelling with that demon for some time, you came to realize you had two options: to face him or pretend it never happened.
The former was out of the question.
Therefore, you reduced yourself to compliance. Life couldn’t stop over a momentary lapse of judgment, and while reluctant, you decided to accept the invitation of drinks at the Tipsy Bison. Noah was nice enough; tall, slender, and dazzling hazel eyes that lit up when he smiled. You had met him at the market one afternoon, recognizing one another through a few mutual acquaintances. There were only a handful of people around your age group in Jackson, and everyone knew everyone, for the most part. It was something of a worst nightmare. But assimilating was survival, so that following Friday night, you found yourself sitting across from him in a booth towards the back of the bar, a heavy pour of vodka and seltzer water filling your glass.
Thank goodness for alcohol was what you spent most of the evening thinking. Noah was the kind man who loved to talk, mostly about himself. And while you were content on listening to get yourself through the evening, you couldn’t help but feel bored. Anxiety filled your stomach then; was this how Joel felt when you talked his ear off on patrols? 
Fuck. Why were you still thinking about him? This excursion had been a means of forgetting about him and the disappointment of his attitude towards you. But the thought of him only seemed to increase when you realized the company of the man before you was even more disheartening than Joel’s blatant rejection of you. 
You felt nothing for Noah. Not anywhere near the way you felt for Joel, seeming to burn from the inside out at the mere thought of him. 
When your date came to its natural conclusion, Noah offered to walk you home to which you quickly declined, using the excuse of needing to use the restroom and not wanting to keep him waiting so late. Truthfully, you did not want to be alone with him. The expectant connotation the idea held rubbed you the wrong way. Not like it did with Joel. You would welcome a secluded space again with him. 
As soon as you were able to convince Noah you would be fine and bid your farewells with the exchange of an awkward hug and forced smiles, you ran into the bar's bathroom, immediately seeking the sink to splash cold water over your burning cheeks. This was ridiculous, and if you couldn’t get yourself together soon, you were sure you would lose it. You stared at yourself in the mirror, scowling. Something had to give. 
Marching back out into the crowded room, you made certain Noah had left before seating yourself up at the bar and ordering another drink. Drinking alone; bleak, but effective. And by your third vodka soda, you were feeling much better. Invigorated, even.  To the point where you strode right out of the bar, a bit of an uneven waver to your step, and down the main strip of town. Impulsive and intoxicated, you decided you had every right to protect your sanity, your wellbeing, your heart. 
You were going to give Joel Miller a piece of your mind.
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Joel didn't know how badly he wanted you until he had you. 
A moment so brief, and yet, it was ingrained into the depths of his very soul. How was he supposed to have said no to you? He knew how; he was a grown ass man, and should have had more self control. He should have been more adamant in his denial of your request. Should have ended the conversation before it even started. But the moment you flashed him those somber doe eyes, he knew he was far too weak to listen to any sort of rationale. Thus, the feel of your silken soft lips buzzed on him for days to come. He had the curves of your body mapped out on his hands, even though they only touched you for a short while. And your scent. It hung around him like a cloud, a drug he got addicted to off of one hit. 
He needed to clear his head. Therefore, when Ellie asked if she could spend the night at Dina’s, Joel happily obliged. A quiet home to himself. There was nothing Joel Miller enjoyed more. 
He settled himself on the couch, keeping only the glow of a lamp on as a source of light, a glass of whiskey he had traded for in hand. He swore he would only drink it on special occasions, but the week's torment proved it necessary. Closing his eyes and leaning back against the cushions, Joel was prepared to will himself to sleep if that meant he could have a moment of reprieve, but as soon as he was beginning to find his peace, a harsh knock pounding against the front door sent him startling to attention. When it came for the second time, he jumped to his feet, pacing towards the door with visible annoyance to his wrinkled brow. 
“You’re gon’ wake up the whole damn neighborhood if you keep knockin’ so—”
He halted his surly rant when the door swung fully open, and Joel was shocked to see you standing on his front porch with a bitter look in your eyes. He breathed your name almost questioningly, as if he couldn’t believe it was actually you standing there. A figment of his imagination haunting him for how often he had thought about you over the week, entertaining the idea, for a split second, that you may not be real. 
But then, your hands were on his chest, shoving at him until he stumbled back from the doorway, and you were stomping into the house, uninvited. 
“The hell are you doin’?!” he barked at you. Joel had never witnessed such a blatant display of indignation from you, at least never directed towards him. To barge over here, unannounced, and show such clear disrespect— 
“Why are you avoiding me?!” you screeched, and his agitated expression instantly fell.
Oh. 
He saw it then, the bloodshot look in your eyes, the sweat to your brow. He could smell it, the alcohol mixed with your natural aroma he had convinced himself he could still sense around him the entire week. But now, it was here. At his doorstep. Drowning him, consuming him. 
Joel sighed heavily. “Jesus, you’re fuckin’ wasted.” Clearly, that was the wrong answer, because as soon as he said it, you were lurching after him again. But before your palms could make contact with his chest, Joel grabbed at your wrists, stopping them mid air. 
Okay, so you were an angry drunk. Great. 
“Cut it out,” he seethed, taking a step forward to tower over you. You were looking up at him fiercely, and he hated how much he loved the heated look in your eyes. He would never admit it to you, but Joel rather enjoyed your attitude. It was endearing. Cute. Whenever you went on your seemingly endless rants during your patrols together, he often found it hard to conceal the smirk that would creep onto his lips at your relentless slaughter of whoever had pissed you off lately. The tremble to your bottom lip that he noticed now, however? That he was enjoying a lot less. 
He kept your wrists in the confines of his hands when he spoke. “M’not…not avoidin’ you.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. He wasn’t necessarily doing it on purpose, and the shift in patrol schedules made it an easy out. But Joel knew it wouldn’t be that simple. You were far too smart, and he respected you far too much to lie to you 
“Bullshit,” you slurred, hands balling into tiny fists against his chest. “You–you don’t even look at me. You walk away from me when you see me in town. And–and you won’t, won’t talk to me.” Your words were a sputtered mess, coming out through trembling lips that fueled tear rimmed eyes, leaving Joel to frown deeply at the sight. Oh, sad drunk was worse. So, so much worse. 
It was true, he hadn’t spoken to you once since he kissed you that day in the safehouse. The question of why was one he couldn’t seem to answer; maybe he was worried he overstepped, regardless of how adamantly you asked him to. Or even more frightening, he was afraid that you regretted it. That you may never look at him the same way again, the only partner he could even remotely imagine tolerating was now going to be taken away from him over his foolish, selfish indulgence.  
“You–you kissed me, and–and now y-you don’t want me anymore.” 
Joel’s brows furrowed instantly, and he couldn’t help himself in the way he dropped your wrists from his grip, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. He studied your tear filled eyes with an intense focus, a pain coursing through his gut at the way you looked up at him, sniffling back the growing tears. Joel had seen you cry before, but never at dealing of his own hand. It ate him alive with guilt. “Hey,” he said sternly, but calmly. That was why you were upset? So troubled over it that you got yourself drunk before coming to his doorstep to confront him? It was supposed to be easy for you to tell him things, tell him everything, but he had made you feel otherwise. More guilt. “That just ain’t true,” he whispered, catching one of the tears that cascaded down your right cheek with the pad of his thumb. 
Joel had never spent this much time so close to you. Save for the moment in the safe house and this one, he didn't think he had ever touched you. He never had any reason to. He was unprepared for how strong the urge to keep touching you was, wallowing in the hope that he never had to let go. 
“Yes, it is,” you argued shakily, your once intense tone losing its strength as you gave way to your emotions. God, he felt like a dick. Joel knew how your brain worked; you probably spent the better half of the week meticulously worrying over what you could have done wrong, when in reality, it was his own compulsions Joel was concerned about. 
“Darlin,’” he breathed, trying to keep his tone as even as possible. “You’re…not thinkin’ right, it's late, why don’t we talk about this in the mornin’?” He really didn’t want to argue with you, and if he was going to, he at least wanted to hear your thoughts in a clear state of mind. Contrary to what you may believe in the moment, Joel did give a shit about what you had to say. 
“You’re just gonna avoid me again,” you muttered, the pout to your bottom lip only increasing the sharp pain of guilt in his gut. 
“No, I won’t.” 
“Yes, you will.” 
“No,” Joel stressed, squeezing your cheeks tenderly between his hands until your lips pursed. Your tears had subsided, but the gloss over your eyes was still present. He so badly wanted to ask what he could do to soothe away your sorrow, but his attention was quickly deterred when you slumped forward with a deep huff, languidly wrapping your arms around his torso and burying your face in his chest. 
Initially, Joel froze. This was…new. Despite the large step of kissing you, Joel had never embraced you. The feeling was odd, foreign. He hadn’t hugged anyone other than Ellie or his brother since, well, since the world went to shit. His hands tingled in mid air, body gone ridgid at your sudden closeness. But eventually, he willed himself to relax, trying not to overthink the moment and gradually wrapping his arms firmly around you, one at your waist, the other at your shoulders, pressing you gently into his chest. The alleviation of all his tension was instantaneous. 
“Why don’t I walk you home?” he whispered, letting his fingers paint gentle circles against your scalp. He loved how soft your hair was.  
You shook your head, still nuzzled into his chest. “Don’t wanna go home,” you muttered, and Joel felt his stomach tighten in what he could only decipher as anxiety. That pesky little pest, always gnawing at him from the inside out. 
He could tell by the heaviness to your body and the weight in your voice the alcohol was catching up to you, fatigue nearby. He contemplated the predicament for a good long while, using the time to relish in the warm and comfortable affection of your shared embrace. 
“Alright,” he replied, his voice nearly as low as yours muffled in his shirt. Joel knew it wasn’t the best idea to let you stay, but he was also quickly discovering just how difficult it was for him to deny you. You were both playing a dangerous game. 
Wordlessly, Joel led you up the stairs with one hand at the small of your back, and the other at your bicep for stability. Your steps were heavy, and he noted the way you would lift your hand every few moments to rub at your tired eyes. He couldn’t help but find it painfully adorable. 
There was no harm in you sleeping here, right? He would lead you to his bed, help you get settled, and dutifully take the couch. There, he could spend the rest of the night reeling over his questionable judgment. 
Guiding you up the stairs, Joel made sure to flicker the big light off before maneuvering you into his bedroom. He got you safely seated at the edge of the mattress before you finally gave way to your weak muscles, snorting under his breath at the way you unabashedly splayed back against the mattress, groaning and squeezing your eyes shut. He knew that feeling all too well. 
“Want somethin’ else to sleep in?” he asked, observing the undoubtedly uncomfortable jeans and white button up you’d spent your evening in. But you were already shifting on the bed, curling into a fetal position with your head nuzzled into the pillow he usually slept on. You reached for the covers, pulling them absentmindedly around your body, mumbling a nuh uh. 
Joel sighed. Well, he wasn’t going to get anywhere else with you tonight, that was certain. So instead of dragging out your consciousness any longer, he carefully approached the side of the mattress, adjusting the sheets so they laid nicely over your huddled body, gingerly swiping a strand of hair that had slid over your eyes back away from your face. He stared at you for a moment then. Even in the darkness, he could make out your soft features; long eyelashes tickling your cheeks, lips slightly parted with gentle puffs of air. He didn’t indulge himself in watching you sleep for too long, but he was a bit alarmed at just how long he could have stood there, content in observing such a mundane activity. Of course, it was only because it was you partaking in it. No one else could make dreams look as peaceful. 
He steadied his hands on the mattress, leaning down to press a ghost of a kiss to your temple. “Sweet dreams,” he whispered, leaving the door cracked just the slightest when he left the room. In case you needed him. In case you wanted him. Even if, like it had been so many times before, it was just to have someone to talk to. 
Joel didn’t know how much he missed the sound of your voice until he heard it again.
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Sharp, searing pain is what you were awoken to. Mostly behind the eyes, radiating through your skull and throbbing in a way that had you struggling to open them. But just as you were able to get a good squint, the sheer shock of your environment outweighed the pain. You shot up with a gasp, frantically looking around and grasping at the unfamiliar bed sheets until it hit you. You were not in some stranger's bed. 
This was Joel’s room. 
The scent of it alone could’ve told you so, but as you blinked away the lingering fatigue, the night came back to you in pieces. Your less than thrilling date with Noah. Your decision to drown those sorrows with some hefty drinks, which was quickly followed by the even more foolish decision to stomp your way over to Joel Miller's house and tell him off for kissing you then ignoring you for two weeks. 
Oh fuck. 
You cradled your head in your hands. What did you say? Even worse, what did you do? You were a notoriously emotional drunk, and while you couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact words you chose to give Joel, you knew they couldn’t be good. 
Immediately, you began looking around for an escape plan. You could use the window; it was the second story, but these old houses weren’t built too tall and Joel’s yard was covered in grass. Maybe he was still asleep? The front door seemed like a much less likely option. But just as you began contemplating the escape, your eyes quickly fell to the bedside table where a glass of water and a worn bottle of ibuprofen sat. Below each item was a scrap of paper that read drink me and take me, respectively. 
You felt that warmth rush into your chest again. Leaning over, you picked up the slips of paper, running your fingers over the scribbled penmanship. There was something incredibly intimate about him leaving you a handwritten note, and you couldn’t help but savor the feeling. Maybe this was proof alone that you didn’t embarrass yourself too bad last night. 
You reached over for the water and pills then, popping two into your mouth and chugging back the cool liquid when you heard the creak of the bedroom door. You froze, eyes wide over the rim of the glass as you watched it crack open, Joel’s head peeking through seconds later. 
His own brows shot to his forehead. “Oh,” he said quietly, pushing the door open the rest of the way to stand still in the doorframe. “You’re awake.” 
You quickly swallowed the rest of the water, setting the glass back on the table, and attempting to smooth back some of the hair in your face. You probably looked like a mess. Meanwhile, the morning suited Joel. You had never seen him so lax; charcoal sweatpants hanging deliciously on his hips, coupled with a black t-shirt that hugged his body a little too well. His usually tame curls were messy, and your fingers ached with the instinct to touch them. This was certainly a sight you could get used to. 
“Yeah,” you breathed, opting to fiddle with your nails below the sheets instead. “Thank you, um…thank you for taking care of me.” 
He shoved his hands in his pockets, giving you a few gentle nods. “‘Course,” was all he said, and you felt like you could scream. You couldn’t read him, couldn’t decipher the thoughts behind those intense eyes. The anticipation of his mood was almost too much to handle, and before you knew it, the incessant anxiety was taking over. 
“Joel,” you whispered after a long moment, watching the way his brows quirked at the sound of his name. And then, just like they had done so many times before, the flood gates opened. “Joel, I’m — I’m so sorry. I don’t, I don’t know what came over me. I went on that stupid date, and it was just, just awful, and I was mad at you, and didn’t know how to handle it–”  
He held up a hand to cease your prattling, and you did, shutting your mouth and opting to chew on the inside of your lip instead while you anxiously awaited his voice. 
When he dropped his hand, he sighed a heavy sigh, slowly making his way across the room to the bedside. Wordlessly, you shifted over, giving him the space to sit down at the edge of the mattress, turning over his shoulder to face you. The sudden proximity had you tensing. “If anyone should be apologizin’, it’s me.” It wasn’t what you were expecting him to say, but you didn’t interrupt. Something in the way his countenance faltered told you this kind of conversation wasn’t all that easy for Joel. 
You felt the air leave your lungs when he looked up at you through hooded eyes, the utter remorse in them palpable, honest. “You trusted me with somethin’ personal, somethin’ special, and I — I broke that trust.” Your heart ached in your chest, and you felt guilty for ever assuming he was incapable of owning up to his mistakes. “And m’sorry,” he concluded. All you could do was stare at him, trying to process his earnest apology. Even though it filled you to the brim with adoration, it still didn’t answer why he had avoided you in the first place. 
“Do you regret it?” you finally whispered, barely audible. You were afraid of the answer. “Do you…do you regret kissing me?” 
The knot returned to his brows. “What? No.” His hand was on your thigh over the blankets then, and you felt your entire body ignite in response. He gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “No, not at all.” 
Taking a brave leap, you carefully placed your own hand atop of his, savoring the familiar roughness. “Then why haven’t you talked to me?” The way your eyes bore into one another, you weren’t sure if you had ever looked at Joel this long. At least not while he was looking back. You thought you would be afraid of the intensity, but quite the contrary. Your bodies had shifted closer to one another on the mattress, like magnets. 
He released another heavy sigh, dropping his eyes to your touching hands. His fingers twitched the slightest bit, and you used the opportunity to slip yours between them, curling them over the top of his hand. You gave him a squeeze back. It’s okay, you wanted to tell him. You can tell me. You can talk to me. But you were patient, knowing Joel was the kind of man who needed to come to you in his own time. 
“‘Cause I– I didn’t expect to like it as much as I did,” he admitted quietly, so quietly you almost missed it. He still didn’t look at you. “And when I felt the way I did about it…I panicked. Didn’t know what the right thing to do was, didn’t know what you were thinkin’ about it all...” His words trailed, and you considered them for a long moment. 
Didn’t know what you were thinkin’ about it all. 
What were you thinking? So many things, too many to count. But right there, sitting in Joel’s bed with his hand on you, his body and breath so close, all you thought about was the good. How good you felt when he kissed you. The bad and ugly melted away with your sadness, your anger. 
“I think…” you started after a beat, your voice almost as soft as his. “I think that I haven’t stopped thinking about it for a single moment since it happened.” 
His eyes were on you again, but this time, there was questioning to them, as if he was searching for any sign that your words were less than sincere. You didn’t give him a second of doubt. Instead, you dragged his hand across your lap and settled it on your hip. He watched you intently, compliant to your ministrations. You used the opportunity to scoot forward again, his hip touching up against your thigh. 
“Yeah?” he asked, quietly. 
“Yeah,” you breathed.
Then, Joel Miller stole your second kiss, and it was just as magical as the first. 
The hand that wasn’t on your hip came to cradle the back of your neck, teasing his lips against yours with a delicate brush before giving you the feeling you craved most over the past two weeks. It bursted inside of you like a goddamn bomb, coating your belly in warmth. 
You leaned into him, gripping his arms, then his shoulders, holding yourself steady. His kiss was slow, and deep. Savoring every second of your lips. This time around, when his tongue taunted your bottom lip, you parted them. He tasted like coffee and something sweet, and you quickly found it was one of the most delectable tastes to ever touch your tongue. 
You were starting to feel hot. Still confined in the clothes you wore the night before, you became acutely aware of the situation. Alone together. In Joel’s bed. With his hands and lips on you. You wanted to feel him everywhere all at once. 
“Joel,” you sang during a brief break of air, nails digging into his shirt. He continued to steal quaint kisses, only humming in response. You snuck one of your hands up into his hair, mimicking his hold on you. “I need you…I need you to touch me.”  
This seemed to get his attention. He stilled, pulling back only enough for his nose to bump yours. Dark, brown, beautiful eyes blown wide to study you. 
“Darlin’,” he whispered, giving your hip a tender squeeze. “We shouldn’t, I mean, I—you’re—”
You knew what he was insinuating. You didn’t have to say it out loud for Joel to assume. 
You’re a virgin. 
“I don’t care,” you rushed out despite the bubbling anxiety in the pit of your stomach. It had to happen eventually, why not now? Why not with Joel? 
You saw him bite at his bottom lip, his gaze ravenous even in the midst of his hesitancy. “I just…I wanna make sure you know what you’re askin’ for.” 
“Tell me,” you whispered against his lips breathlessly, tugging at his curls to keep him close. “Tell me you feel nothing for me, and I’ll stop. I’ll stop pushing it.” 
Joel groaned, the kind that suggested the frustrating restraint of desire. “You know I can’t do that, sweetheart.” You knew. God, you knew, but that didn’t stop the rush of heat from darting to your core when he admitted it.  
“Then please,” you begged, slinking your arms fully around his shoulders to pull yourself up. You hovered over him, lips barely dancing atop of his. “Please touch me, Joel.” 
There were a few more beats of reservation until he simply couldn’t help himself any longer. He stood from the bed, bringing you to your knees with him at the edge of the mattress. Your hands never left him, engulfing yourself fully around his neck, his own steady at your waist, holding onto it for dear life. Then, he was kissing you again with an increased intensity that knocked the wind out of you. 
Everything suddenly became overwhelming, the heightened awareness of your body and the way he maneuvered it foreign and exciting. You were unable to mask the whimper that escaped you when his lips abandoned yours for your jaw, your neck, finding a deliciously sensitive spot at the base of your throat and sucking on it gingerly. Your head lulled back in a daze, and you felt his hands slip under the hem of your button up, tickling at the skin of your sides.
“You’re so goddamn soft,” he muttered into the crook of your neck, his hands traveling further forward until they were toying with the buttons on your shirt. “Can I take this off, darlin’?” 
You nodded frantically, unable to quite find your voice. You scooted back a bit, giving him space to manipulate his fingers down the front of your shirt, carefully popping each button. When the fabric fell open, Joel seethed a shit under his breath. You weren’t wearing a bra, the cool air peaking your nipples. You felt the heat rising on your skin at the way his eyes took in every inch of you, careful fingers pushing back the collar until the shirt slipped off your shoulders.  
No man had ever seen you naked. Well, not purposefully. With the group you traveled with before you ended up in Jackson, it was inevitable to reveal yourself a time or two, changing or bathing in such close quarters. You thought you would be bashful, maybe even uncomfortable. But with the way Joel was looking at you, eyes full of nothing but careful adoration, you felt exhilarated. 
“Lay back, babygirl,” Joel instructed softly, the new pet name making your heart flutter in your chest. You obeyed his wish, carefully shuffling yourself until you could lay your head back onto his pillows, watchful eyes following him as he sauntered over to the end of the mattress. 
He moved with such diligence, a man of many years who seemed to have perfected just living in the beautiful state he inhabited. You watched him with the same intensity as he rid himself of his own shirt, revealing his sturdy chest and plush belly. Your mouth watered with anticipation when the mattress dipped, Joel crawling up the empty space to settle himself between your legs. 
Bare chest to chest, your skin was on fire. You looked up at him wide eyed, suddenly in a suspension of disbelief. This was happening. Really happening. The fantasies you had worked so diligently to shove deep down inside you manifesting before your eyes; you would have been content to never see them flourish, as having Joel Miller by your side in any shape or form was a reward, but this? This was so much better. 
He leaned down, pressing the softest kiss to your parted lips. “You okay?” His forearms rested on either side of your head, and when you nodded, he brought a single hand down to toy with the strands of hair at your temple. “If we’re gonna go any further, I need you to talk to me, darlin’. Think you can do that?” 
You nodded again, and he gave you a knowing look, a small smirk quirking up on his lips. “Sorry,” you squeaked. “Yes…yes, I-I can do that.” 
Talking. Talking was good. Nerves were inevitable, and hearing Joel’s voice would soothe you through it. Dampen the fears, the inexperience, the insecurities. 
“And if you want me to stop,” he continued, his lips returning to your fiery skin, trailing barely there kisses down the expanse of your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut, hands grasping at his bare sides. “You tell me right away.” His kisses littered your throat, your collarbone, all the way to your breasts where they ghosted over your nipples, aching for attention. “Understand?” His lips wrapped around one of them then, and you arched off the mattress with a gasp. 
“Y-yes,” you mewled. Maybe talking was going to be much more difficult than you expected. “I-I understand, Joel.” 
“Good girl,” he praised softly, and good god if it didn’t shoot straight to your core, which you were now vividly aware was pressed up against the growing outline in his sweatpants.
He continued his descent, gracing your skin with his feathery kisses and stopping just short of the waistband of your jeans. The discomfort from sleeping in them was quickly replaced by the discomfort below them. You were dripping. 
“Do you touch yourself, pretty girl?” Joel whispered against the skin below your belly button, bringing a hand down to slowly undo the buttons on your jeans. “When you’re all alone, do you make yourself feel good?” 
You had your arms splayed to either side of you, unsure of where to touch, to grab, fingers balled into fists. His question alone drew another whimper from you, and you heard the zipper on your pants go down. 
“Yes,” you answered honestly. You had done your fair share of exploration over the years, always in private, and always just enough to get you over the edge so many seemed to talk so highly about. But you never felt this hot with your own hands.
Joel hummed in approval. “Good. That’s good. Lift up—” he said, giving your thighs a light tap. You lifted your hips from the mattress, allowing him room to shuffle the fabric off your legs. You assisted him towards the end, fluttering your feet until you could kick the jeans to the floor. Within seconds, he was back between your thighs, this time straddling his shoulders as he settled further down the mattress. His face was inches away from your cunt, now only protected by the thin cotton barrier. 
“And when you touch yourself,” he continued, fingers tracing the softest shapes on the outside of your thighs, over your hips. You could feel his hot breath through your panties, and it made you squirm. “How many fingers do you use?” 
The subject matter was crude at its core, but something about the words coming off Joel’s lips made them sound completely earnest. Like he wanted to know, needed to know. You weren’t sure how much longer you could last without his attention where you needed it most. 
“Two. Sometimes, maybe three, but I like—” Your chest heated with embarrassment. You had spoken so openly about so many things with Joel over your months as partners, but never anything like this. 
His brows perked up in interest from between your legs, continuing the teasing caresses of your thighs. “What, darlin’?” He placed a kiss on the inside of your left thigh, and you could’ve sworn you saw stars. “What do you like? You can tell me.” 
Your breath was no longer your own, heaving uncontrollably. Sweat rolling on your temples. He certainly knew how to work you up.
You bit your bottom lip. “I like…I like to rub my clit,” you whispered, wincing at the way the vulgar words sounded coming out of your mouth. But Joel practically growled below you, eyes closing momentarily. 
He leaned forward, breathing in your core and running his nose along the patch of dampness. That was when your hands abandoned the sheets, instinctively coming up to grab at his curls. “Oh, baby,” he hummed, hands leaving your thighs to curl his fingers into the waistband of your panties. “Yeah, I can do that. Promise to take real good care of you.” 
And you believed him, which had you wasting little time in lifting your hips again, allowing him to strip you of your last piece of clothing. He took a moment to rake his eyes over you before leaning back down, your glistening center clenching around nothing as the cold air tickled the flesh. 
“So beautiful,” he murmured, guiding the crux of your knees over either shoulder. 
You were fully exposed to this man, for the first time ever to the eyes of another, and yet, you had never felt more exhilarated. You wondered if that was simply because it was Joel. No one else in this fucked up world could make you feel so comfortable as to bare your heart, soul, and body to them. 
“Joel, please,” you begged again, this time, giving a bold tug to his hair. “Please.” You needed something, anything he would provide you. 
He didn’t keep you in anticipation much longer.  He wetted his lips before his head dipped between your legs, warm tongue licking a slow strip across your outer lips, all the way up to your clit that stood taut, moving the tip of his tongue in calculated flicks. 
“Oh, fuck!” you shrieked, eyes screwing shut and hips bucking up off the mattress. Joel was quick to combat this, sturdy hands gripping you by the hips and bringing you back down to earth while he paid mindful attention to your swollen clit, just like you asked him to. 
But it was much different having someone’s mouth on you. Joel’s mouth. The familiar coil in your belly built much quicker while he suckled on the sensitive bud. “Joel,” you moaned, to which he hummed in response, sending the most delectable vibrations through you. “More. Your fingers, please.” 
He never took his lips off of you when you felt the pads of his fingers prod at your hole, already leaking with desire. You anticipated his fingers to be much larger than yours, but when he sunk his two digits in, the stretch was satisfying. The way he worked up your arousal aiding in how easy it was to slowly pump them in and out, curling up ever so slightly to find the spongy spot inside of you. 
You couldn’t quite process it; the attentiveness, how effortless it was for him to listen to your needs. Word of mouth had given you a low standard of expectation for your first experience, but something told you Joel would exceed every string of disappointment. 
He began to quicken his pace, the flex of his forearm curving his fingers up into that sweet spot with precision, leaving your toes to clench and your thighs to squeeze around his head. You were singing his name like a prayer, the only word you could find as your abdomen tightened, a subtle tremor cursing through your legs. You craned your neck up from the pillows, compelling yourself to find the image of him nestled between your thighs. And fuck, was it glorious. His hooded eyes were already on you, pupils blown wide, breathing frantically through his nose while his lips continued their ambush on you. You quickly brushed the stray curls from his forehead, wanting to have a clear view of his eyes when your jaw fell slack, the euphoric high starting at your core and bursting out over the rest of you. At first, you couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. But Joel kept working his tongue over your clit and his fingers inside of you through your orgasm so adamantly that your head flung back, thighs clamped around his head, and a lewd moan echoed off your lips. Thank god no one else was home, as you were pretty sure the neighbors could hear how good Joel Miller was making you feel. 
“Fuck, fuck, oh fuck.” You were a sputtering mess while he teetered you towards overstimulation, but soon enough, his sucking turned to gentle kisses, and his fingers slowed their assault. When he dragged them out of you, you could hear the sound of your slick. And when you finally had the energy to peer down at him, you could see his patchy beard covered in it, too. But Joel was as much a taker as a giver it seemed, for when he pulled his face away from between your thighs, you watched him bring the glistening digits up to his lips and suck them clean. 
He grinned down at you when he popped them out of his mouth. “So damn sweet, darlin’.” This had you giggling, a mixture of inevitable embarrassment and bliss. You brought your hands up tiredly to cover your heated cheeks, but Joel was having none of it. He dragged them down, replacing them with peppered kisses to your nose, your forehead, your cheeks, until he landed on your lips, joining in on the soft laughter between each peck.
It was cathartic. Sharing in such joy after a moment of such intensity. You had always thought sex needed to be this serious, meticulous act. That didn’t seem to be the case with Joel; he was the same him, you were the same you. And that was enough. 
Hovering above you again, you wrapped your still shaky legs around his hips. His hands were back at your hairline, now doused in sweat, carefully pushing back the pieces that stuck to your skin. 
“You okay?” he asked softly. 
You nodded. “Yes.” You snaked a hand in between the two of you, mimicking his soft caresses to the saturated patches of hair on his jaw. “More than okay.” 
You were fucking incredible. On cloud nine, in fact. Every worry of the day, week, month seemingly lost to the euphoria that was Joel’s hands on you. 
“We can stop at any time if it’s gettin’ too much,” he reminded you, and you knew the terse look in his eye came from nowhere else but concern. 
Your brows pulled over your eyes, pouting up at him. “I don’t wanna stop,” you muttered, tracing your finger over his jawline. “Do you want to stop?”  
“No, fuck. No, sweetheart, ‘course I don’t wanna stop,” he reassured you. “I just want you to know that even if we don’t go all the way…that doesn't make this a failure.” 
You could’ve cried right then and there. This man. This stoic, brooding man who you had spent so much time avoiding your feelings for might have been the sweetest, gentlest man you had ever encountered underneath all of that heavy armor he insisted on carrying. You wanted to help him with the weight, take as much of it as you could muster onto your shoulders, and free him of his worries and pain. 
You took a deep breath, swallowing back the lump in your throat and bringing both hands up to cradle his cheeks. He looked you in the eye, focused. “I want to feel this with you,” you spoke softly, never faltering from his deep gaze. “I trust you, Joel. With everything I have.” 
Taking a leap of faith, you trailed your hands from his cheeks all the way down his torso until your fingers fiddled with the tie on his sweatpants. You gave it a tug, letting the stings fall open. He watched you, and when he felt the still of your hands, took it upon himself to slowly peel back, shuffling to the edge of the mattress to rid himself of his pants. 
When they hit the floor, your lips parted in a sharp inhale. Joel Miller carried every trait of a man who was well endowed, but to see the sacred part of him up close was an entirely different experience than imagining it. Thick and already leaking with precum, you were enamored by the dark vein that ran along the underside of his cock, standing proud and eager against his lower stomach. You tried not to let your eyes linger on it too long when he crawled back up to you, settling between your legs. You felt another rush of arousal when his warm cock laid up against your core. 
“I’m a little nervous,” you whispered, scared that if you admitted it too loud, he would change his mind. 
That couldn’t be further from the truth; you knew so when he graced you with that subtle, doting smile. The kind that just reached his eyes enough for you to see the little crinkles at the edges. 
“I know, baby, but I promise I’ve got ya. It’s just you and me, okay?” You nodded slowly, suddenly overcome with unexpected emotion again. Your eyes glistened, the tenderness of his voice healing something deep inside you. “If we’re bein’ honest, I’m a little nervous too.” His grin only increased upon your reaction, looking up at him as if that was the most ridiculous thing in the world. “S’been a long time for me.” 
Oh. You suppose you never thought about it that way. You gave way to the moment, leaning up to press a quaint kiss to his lips. “You and me,” you echoed his words and his smile. 
He returned the gentle kiss. “Hold on to me,” he instructed, and you brought your arms back around his neck, keeping him close. He reached between your bodies, and you felt the tip of his cock run across your awaiting folds. You dug your teeth into your bottom lip, tensing in anticipation. “Relax, baby. S’gonna feel a lot better if you try to relax.” 
You heeded his warning, taking in a deep inhale through your nose and out through your mouth. “Go slow, please,” you whimpered. His forehead touched yours when he nodded. 
“I will,” he promised, nudging the tip of him against your hole, still slick with arousal. And you were grateful for it when he notched himself inside of you, eliciting a gasp from the both of you. 
You knew it was just the tip of him, but that didn’t stop your eyes from rolling back. Warm and firm, nestling perfectly inside of you. You welcomed the intrusion, continuing to focus on your breathing. “A little more,” you urged him, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of neck. Joel was panting right along with you, and despite the growing lust, kept his promise of taking it slow. He guided himself an inch further, then another, another, until you were digging your nails into his scalp, a whine coming through gritted teeth. 
The stretch stung, but his pace kept it bearable. You did your best to stay perfectly still, worrying if you moved too much any way, the pain would worsen. Tears began to prickle at your waterline, a combination of discomfort and every overwhelming emotion coursing through you. 
“That’s it, sweet girl,” he praised, lips tickling the shell of your ear. “You’re doin’ so good for me. So, so good.” 
His genuine words made you want to do better, sending little flutters through your stomach. It was astonishing the way his words alone could inflict such a response from you. 
After a moment, you were able to relax into the intrusion. Eyes still shut, you nudged your nose up against his. “Just…just do the rest all at once,” you squeaked. The sooner, the better. Dragging it out would only elongate the process of getting it over with, and you couldn’t wait any longer to cross the threshold. He was still for a moment, and then, placing a steadying hand on one of your hips, Joel sheathed himself fully inside of you, filling you to the brim. 
Your lips fell open in a wail, the tears that lingered at your eyes falling over your cheeks. Joel’s delicate lips were on your neck, leaving kisses and whispering words of encouragement. 
“M’gonna stay just like this for a minute,” he said after a moment, your walls involuntarily fluttering around him, getting use to the sheer size of him. With every passing moment, you willed yourself to unwind, focusing on the sound of Joel’s breathing. 
You took your time, only opening your eyes when you really felt ready. You found Joel had lifted his head from your neck, already looking at you with tender concern. “It’s okay,” you panted, nodding slowly, sniffling back the tears. “I’m…it’s not so bad.” It was only then that you realized how full you felt, full of Joel. He was reaching a depth of you otherwise untouched, the thought alone having you clench around him. 
He grunted, and you noted the twitch of restraint in his focused brow. “You can move,” you said, bringing a shaky hand up to push the sweat-clad curls off his forehead. 
He looked at you hesitantly. “Are you sure—”
“Joel,” you hummed, carefully tilting your hips up, inviting him in. Another shared gasp. “Please.” 
The thrusts began as gentle rocks of his hips, never pulling too far in or out, just enough to explore the feeling of him moving inside of you. The pain was no longer the instigator of your tears — it was the intensity of Joel’s eyes, looking down at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. 
Then, he was grinding into you in languid strokes, the sound of slick skin singing in the air. Gradually, you got used to the fullness, anticipating it every time he would pull out of you before advancing forward. Soft grunts fell from Joel’s lips when he’d hit the deep spot inside of you, something about the sounds he made sending shivers down your spine. 
But the real pleasure came when he reached a hand between your conjoined bodies, finding your neglected clit, and circling the two of his fingers around it. 
The moan that fell from your lips was obscene. Oh. Oh, this was new. Suddenly, the pain was a dampened after thought; the feeling of fullness mixed with the sensation of his fingers rubbing at your sensitive bud sent your body alight. You didn’t even notice how vocal you had become, wanton whines and increased panting, until you felt Joel’s lips at your ear again. 
“Yeah?” he muttered, his voice dropping an octave. “That feelin’ good baby?” 
So good. Oh, it was so fucking good. You wanted to tell him, scream it at the top of your lungs, but your voice was caught in your throat, too overwhelmed by the newfound ecstasy. Your ankles had mindlessly latched around his back, too hellbent on keeping him deep inside of you to let go. 
When the circling of his fingers picked up, so did his thrusts. The weight of his heavy balls slapped against you, nestling up into the same spot his fingers found earlier, leaving you to arch off the mattress. 
“Fuck, darlin’,” he growled, teeth grazing your carotid. “You feel so fuckin’ good around me.” 
You were a whimpering mess, legs starting to tremble again around him. “More, Joel,” you breathed, not even quite sure what more of you were asking for. “P-please, I need more.” 
He seemed to understand, because before you knew it, he was rutting into you quicker, deeper. The curve of his cock worked into you, somehow finding the right spot inside of you every single time. Your body moved on its own violation, hips grinding upwards to meet him in the middle of every thrust. The litany of your moans and his grunts sung through the air like sweet music, and you thought you may have never experienced life before the way you did in that moment; body and mind completely consumed by another, this feeling forever Joel’s to give you for the first time. 
You were burning from the inside out, unable to keep up with the way your body gave way to the pure euphoria coursing through you, until the pressure in your belly was too much to bear. Your toes curled, legs trembled so hard that they fell limp around him, a fire traveling through you from your point of connection. 
“Oh god. Oh fuck, oh fuck — uungh — Joel—!”
He held you through the entirety of your second release, stronger than any you had ever experienced. You clenched around him feverishly, coating his swelling cock in your honey. Your head thrown back, you felt the tickle of his hair against your neck as he buried his face into the crook, the sputter of his hips growing sloppy as you milked him towards the edge. You weren’t even down from the high when his hand abandoned your clit, quickly pulling himself out of you and giving himself a few steady pumps. You opened your eyes just in time to see the way his lips fell apart and his face contorted in beautiful bliss before he was spilling himself onto your stomach. 
You had low expectations for your first time, always had. The idea of finishing not even a pressure you bothered to burden yourself with. It would be easier to pretend it was something magical, extraordinary. A fluke, even. But the truth was…it was just Joel. 
You and me. 
His words continued to ring true. And when you both settled your breathing, finding each other again in the exchange of wide, wondrous eyes, you slowly fell back into the soft fit of laughter. Pure contentment. A happiness long abandoned to a world that robbed you of any glimpse of achieving it. 
When he kissed you then, soft and sweet, you knew he felt it too.
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The rest of the morning was spent in a domestic stupor. You spent a good chunk of time basking in each other's arms, curled up against Joel’s chest, tracing the shape of every scar you could find. You didn’t press him for their backstories, instead, choosing to admire the character and history they gave him. 
When you both finally found the strength to get up, he suggested a shower. At first, he was content to let you go alone, offering to take one after. But the glint in your eye and the pout at your lip told him you had other plans, and soon enough, you were both crammed into the small space. It didn’t bother you, giving you ample excuse to have your arms around him and feel his hands on you. 
He washed your hair, the soothing circles of his fingers nearly aiding you back to sleep right then and there. Of course, he was stubborn in letting you return the favor, so you settled for a gentle massage to his shoulders while he worked his fingers through his curls. 
He offered you some of his clothes, considering yours reeked of alcohol and sweat from the night prior. One of his flannels and clean pair of sweatpants, which you rolled up to avoid tripping over. 
He graciously invited you downstairs, offering to whip up some breakfast and get a pot of coffee started. There was something undeniably sexy about Joel in such a casual setting. You had never spent this much time in his house, normally only stopping by for a brief moment to pick up something you had left behind on patrol or drop off a menial item Ellie asked to borrow. 
The air was different now. Something palpable shifting, and it was equal parts frightening and exhilarating. You felt like you were glowing.
You had so many questions. So many doubts. Hopes. Afraid that if you pushed them too soon, you would risk the chance of losing an opportunity for something altogether. So you kept your mouth shut, opting to sit atop the counter next to the stovetop while Joel cooked, savoring the scent of brewing coffee and freshly washed hair. 
When the pot dinged, Joel reached in the cupboards for two mugs, and just as he poured yours, handing it to you, the front door slammed open then shut. You both froze. 
“I’m home!” Ellie’s voice shrieked, followed by the sound of her shuffling about and approaching footsteps. 
“Shit,” Joel muttered quietly under his breath, bracing a hand against the counter. You turned your head towards the kitchen entryway just as she approached it, the guiltiest look on both of your faces. 
The thud of her backpack hit the wooden floor, and as soon as she looked up, her eyes began to process the sight before her. She fluttered her gaze between the two of you, damp haired, disheveled clothes, tired eyes. Not even a beat later, a brazen grin spread across her cheeks. 
“Well, well, well,” she tsked slowly, folding her arms across her chest. You bit at the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from laughing, maybe crying? Both. You could see Joel going rigid in your peripheral, knuckles white against his own coffee mug. 
“Looks like I’m not the only one who had a slumber party.” 
You literally snorted out a laugh, immediately bringing your hand up to smack over your mouth and nose at the sound. 
“Ellie!” Joel barked, but the teenager remained unfazed. She flashed you her knowing smirk before her eyes were back on Joel in torment. 
“What?!” she feigned innocence. “I’m just sayin’, it’s about fucking time you two stopped dancing around each other. It was painful to watch, seriously.” 
“Oh my god.” When you looked over to Joel, his face was bright red, jaw set tense while he glared at the girl in plain irritation. You couldn’t help but find it utterly adorable and quite amusing. “Would’ya just…just go to your damn room or somethin’?” 
Ellie simply continued her coy stare while she leaned down to pick up her pack, slinging it over her shoulder. She turned to you then, putting on her best polite facade and bidding you a proper good morning, to which you returned, both quite giggly. Just before she slipped out of the room, she stopped short, peeking her head back in. 
“Oh, hey,” she chirped towards you. “They’re showing a new tape in the barn later. And this one —” she gave Joel an aggressive point, “has patrol duty. You wanna come with me instead?” 
You had experienced your fair share of activities with Ellie. You were friends. The age difference could not diminish the joy the girl brought to you and so many others in Jackson; she was a firecracker, reminding you a bit of yourself at that age. A breath of fresh air to the community after months of stiffs who had nothing better to do than gossip or stir up trouble. 
And yet, the nonchalance of her invitation — as if it was the clearest thing in the world to her in that moment, that embarrassing, unexpected moment — made your heart swell. 
You smiled back at her, nodding. “I’d love to.” You would love to spend time with Ellie. Joel’s Ellie. Undoubtedly the most important thing in the world to him, and she wanted to share her evening with you. 
As she puttered out of the room, you waited until you heard her door shut upstairs before your eyes were back on Joel. His own were an array of annoyance and embarrassment, to which you returned with a reassuring smile. 
He went on to mutter something about that kid being the death of him, and you let him. Let him grump away as he continued the breakfast preparations, otherwise casual over the intrusion. He wasn’t ashamed that she saw you, caught you both like this. The realization of it all consumed you rather rapidly. As you watched him tend to you in his kitchen, his home, you felt a bit of that worry dissipate into more hope. 
And for the first time since Joel Miller came into your life, you could truly imagine what it would be like to be his.
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redbullgirly · 2 months
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Million Dollar Man [LS18 smau]
Lance Stroll x reader [social media au]
Masterlist
Summary: Lance's girlfriend isn't afraid to show how much her boyfriend loves and spoils her. Unfortunately, "fans" seem to think she's a gold digger. But who would Lance and Y/N bee if they just let it slide?
Warnings: A lot of hate towards the reader by online trolls and just toxic fans, at the end she and Lance shuts them up but if you're not in the right head-space to read this, then please don't.
yourusername posted on instagram
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liked by lance_stroll, fernandoalo_oficial, astonmartin and 192,344 others
tagged: astonmartin and lance_stroll
yourusername life lately... how about you? 🍰💐
view all 3209 comments
user1 more like: life lately 💸💸💸
user2 LOL
lance_stroll life lately has been great ❤️
liked by the author
user3 Lance don't worry we're going to save you!!
user4 our guy is lyinggggg i can feel it
user5 Oh my god let them live a happy life you trolls🤦‍♀️
user6 how can you know it's happy when she clearly uses him for money?🤨
user5 And how can you know it's not? Besides I don't think she uses him for anything🤷‍♀️
user4 then your just as naive as him user5 lol
user7 she's so classy a love it!😻
user8 Can she even drive or she just wanted to take a photo in his car?
fernandoalo_oficial You are slaying Queen!😉
fernandoalo_oficial Did I do it correctly yourusername?
yourusername it's great nando, just please never use that emoji again and you'll be ready do graduate from my gen-z university!
fernandoalo_oficial Damn it I knew all you use these days is this one: 💀
yourusername 💀
user9 OKAY I DON'T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING ANYONE SAYS ABOUT HER AND LANCE CAUSE I LOVE Y/N AND NANDO INTERACTIONS MORE THAN MY OWN LIFE!!
user10 i'm convinced she holds both aston drivers hostage in her basement and is forcing them to comment on her posts
user11 It's probably not even her own basement but Lance's😭
user12 nah she ain't even that pretty
user13 omg no way this post is the way I found out lance mf stroll has a girlfriend?🤠
user14 GIRL you have so much lore to catch up on
user15 Yeah welcome to the worst wag ever fandom xd
user13 wait I'm so confused... why do we hate her???
user14 bc she's basically a gold digger, like from the moment her and lance started dating she's been posting only about shopping and showing off herself and her bf's money
user12 plus she ugly af
user15 Yeah and there are rumors on twitter about her being really mean to everyone and that the whole paddock hates her and stuff...
user13 okay I get that but tbh we can't believe everything that's on f1 twitter
user14 idc she's a bitch even without the rumors
user15 I can tell Y/N is trying so hard to have the rich girly aesthetic... it's actually embarrassing😂
astonmartin Wow you have a great car right there😍
user16 more like her sugar daddy lance has it lol XD
user17 guys be fr if you had a rich boy you'd be spending his money too!!!
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yourusername thank you spa for having me! what a race, congrats to my favourite driver lance_stroll on p9 & his teammate fernandoalo_oficial on p5! great team work, hope to see you on another grand prix in the future astonmartinf1 💚🏆
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astonmartinf1 we hope to see you on another grand prix as well Y/N!🤩
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user1 you don't have to lie admin, it's waste of money on her... better give the paddock pass to someone else
astonmartinf1 well, we definitely won't give it to you user1, so no need to worry about it 😙
user2 daaaamn, the admin is coming for y'all haters
user3 Of course she had to wear the racing suit... c'mon that's so embarrassing🙄
user4 actually it's pretty normal, I'm pretty sure Max's gf also wore his racing suit at some point
user3 Yeah but I at least like and respect Kelly... Y/N is a horrible gold digger
user4 well then I'm pretty sure it's your problem, not hers🤷‍♀️
user5 girl stop pretending you care about racing we all know you do it just for pr and cash xdd
user6 Honestly I'm not a Lance Stroll fan, but he deserves someone better than her...
lance_stroll Thank you to my favourite wag! 🥳❤️
yourusername love you baby!!!💞
user7 favourite wag😂 good joke😂😂
user8 am I the only one who finds their interaction cute??
user9 yeah you are user8... like just look at it, it's so forced... wouldn't be surprising if their whole relationship was fake
user10 You can hate on her all you want, but she's actually gorgeous in the third pic😻
user11 YUUUCCKK🤮🤮🤮
user12 you see I would be fine with this post if she didn't have to show off the aston martin car again!!!
user13 Hey did you notice she tagged Nando in the caption and he didn't reply to her? I call it ✨karma✨ lol
user14 maybe he escaped from her basement😭
user15 💚💚
user16 sorry but I can't help it. There's just something fishy about Y/N and I can't bring myself to like her at all
user17 Guys who is this girl and why does she get more hate in her comments than hailey bieber??💀
user18 I hate how she makes the whole Grand Prix about herself
user19 no but fr... like honey, idc about you and your favourite driveeer
user20 Tf?? She literally called LANCE her favourite driver how is that about her... you haters are so dumb🤦‍♀️
user21 I bet she read the comments on twitter about how she's bad gf for not going to any races and decided to fix her image by this XD
user19 lmfao didn't probably work the way she hoped
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lance_stroll As some of you now, I am not very active on social media. Today I'm making an exception for Y/N, my lovely girlfriend I've been dating for almost a year now. She is one of the greatest, most kind, caring and selfless people I know. I don't know where the idea of our relationship being unhappy, one-sided or even insincere came from, but I would like to make it very clear once and for all that these assumptions are as far from the truth as they can be.
In my life, I experienced a lot of hateful comments and reactions myself. It is not something I wish anyone should have to go through and it's disgusting. I love Y/N with all my heart and I hope that one day, she'll make me the happiest man alive and allows me to marry her, build a family together. No one will ever again speak about her in an inappropriate way, or they'll be blocked and possibly face legal actions taken agains them. I am very serious about this.
Y/N, I'm not afraid to call you the love of my life. I never want to see you cry because of some meaningless hater. Love you to the moon and back, sweetheart ❤️
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user1 It's just so heartbreaking how Lance himself had to go through so many waves of hate because of his dad and now he had to watch Y/N go through it too...😓
yourusername love you to the moon and back too lance!!!💖
lance_stroll Wouldn't have it any other way honey!😌
user2 you know it's serious when sebastianvettel shows up
astonmartinf1 once the it couple, always the it couple!💚 proud to say we were never a hater😘
user3 i still think it's fake
fernandoalo_oficial and I think you are fake🤪
user4 LMAO nando come and get the haters lets goooo
user5 That's how you shut them up xd
fernandoalo_oficial how do you children say it? I AM LANCEY/N DEFENDER
user4 yeah yeah nando exactly that or you can say your a lancey/n truther
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user5 omg I can't believe I just had online conversation with THE Fernando Alonso😭
user4 GIRL ME TOO AND HE EVEN LIKED MY COMMENT😭😭
f1 What a beautiful couple you are!🙌 Hope to see you in the paddock after summer break!😏
user6 "they'll be blocked and possibly face legal actions taken agains them" daaammmnn man is standing on business here
user7 Tbh I never understood why y'all hated on her sm she's literally so beautiful and seems kind as well🤷‍♀️
lilymhe pretty giiiirl
lance_stroll I couldn't agree more!❤️
yourusername oh stop you two I'm blushing
user8 Can we take a moment to appreciate how beautifully the caption is written?🥹 Lance really has some poetic talent!
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user9 aaah she's still a gold digger and he's too blind to see it😂
user10 Yeah she probably charmed him in bed or sm
user11 Ohh user9 and user10... I wonder how it feels to know Lance and probably some other drivers hate you🫢
chloestroll My brother and my future sister-in-law!🥰
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yourusername 🥰🥰
user12 im actually so happy to see y/n replying to some of the comments and just being active without so much hate on her now!!!
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yourusername they say if he wanted to he would... I say he wants to so he does 🌹❤️
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lilymhe she ate you jealous people up with that caption
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lilymhe also alex_albon me when??
dior Wow!❤️‍🔥
lance_stroll That's what real men do instead of trolling others on the internet.
yourusername daaammn baby
lance_stroll What? I'm just stating facts 😌
kellypiquet shopping trip to Paris when?😍
yourusername anytime you want!!!💕
astonmartinf1 So lucky to (basically) have you on our team💚
fernandoalo_oficial I call that a slay admin
astonmartinf1 ...should I tell him slay is kinda out dated??
yourusername aaah let him have his moment
fernandoalo_oficial WHAT?! YOU TRAITORS I THOUGH I WAS GEN-Z APPROVED
yourusername 🫢
THE END
Author's note: I hope you liked my first ever social media au story! I'll be glad for every feedback, comment, like, reblog and everything! You can definitely send me asks and requests for another smau's and even 'normal' fanfictions. Have a great day!
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voidprincessblog · 4 months
Note
My void sucess story
HII TIA!!! I can barely contain my excitement as I type this but I got into the void and manifesting my dream life. You @gorgeouslypink and @charmedreincarnation are my absolutely favorite blogs, and I couldn’t have done it without y’all. I think charm and pink are on break so I’m gonna send this to you I hope that’s okay.
Quick backstory: I’ve been in this community since the OGs, angel, Cleo, maya etc. I’ve seen all the dumb drama, the liars, the successful people, the exposing, and etc. I’m just sharing this because people think having bad experiences can hinder you from getting your desires and I’m here to remind you nope that it can’t. Nothing can. I had a phase where I would ugly cry trying to make sure all the success stories are true….I became a cop and started looking for inconsistencies on pages and liars to help me feel better. Which it didnt, It drove me mad, and I lost faith.
Until… I read pink’s doubt post which was God sent. Her entire page is God sent tbh and I recommend it to everyone. After I felt better and realized outside of tumblr people have gotten into the void, I decided I’m gonna be the next success story. So I went on your lovely page because I don’t think there isn’t a method you haven’t talked about.
You’re so educated and conduct amazing research on everything, we truly don’t deserve you Tia. Thank you for all your hard work. Anyways I was feeling good! I had so many methods to choose from, I felt like a fat kid at a candy store. And I decided my logical brain needed a logical method so I went with lucid dreaming.
This is where charm comes in. I read her lucid dreaming guide and it is literally also God sent so thank you so much for that. She had a method I had never heard of called SSILD, and even made a post about that as well… like I felt like the universe was handing me everything on a silver platter. And I saw another post that her and pink talked about using a reclining chair. So I combined SSILD with that method to make an ultimate one. And on the second day of trying I entered a lucid dream, asked a dream character to take me to the void and then manifested my dream life.
What I manifested: my dream house, dream family, dream body and face, dream amount of money, money always coming to my family and I’s bank account out of nowhere (but it’s natural and normal ) socialite Status, 25k insta followers (my lucky number) famous loyal dream athletics boyfriend (I was so scared this wouldn’t work but it did!), master manifesting abilities, dream college acceptance, (future) good self concept, a great fashion taste, never gaining weight, clear glass skin, revising my abusive past, and so much more. My list was like a whole ass essay, I obviously can’t list everything but my life is perfect now.
This was last week and I immediately booked a trip to LA with my family to look at the USC campus because that’s where I want to go and where I will go next fall, (I’m a senior). I was also looking at apartments around my school and I found my dream one so I’m manifesting no one leases it 🤭
Quick note: a lot of my desires were weird or I wanted them to manifest a specific way, or they weren’t realistic to happen immediately so I was afraid it wouldn’t work out the way I envisioned. Not only did everything work out the way I envisioned but it worked out even better and exactly how I would want them to apply to life but in a realistic way. So if that’s something you worry about don’t worry, you are God, and it will work out perfectly.
Anyways, I just wanted to share this because I failed for a while and everyone on this app was so supportive. Tumblr is genuinely like a little magical family so now everyone will see my succeed… though this on anon mode bc people have been attacking success stories lately. And honestly it doesn’t matter bc I just want to live my new spoiled life but I want to express my gratitude because my life was in shambles and you three helped me so much. So thank you again and I hope everyone who read this. No, I know everyone who reads this will get what they deserve.
HII LOVE!! WOW CONGRATULATIONS (⑅˶ᵔ ▿ ᵔ˶) ~♡
I'm very excited for you!!! And yes, void Tumblr has definitely changed rn and I feel there's many blogs on here that's good and no more liars. I'm so glad you gained faith back in the community and now you're living your dream life, love.
Aww pink and charm have the best posts on the void too <3.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Gorgeouslypink doubts post
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Charms lucid dreaming guide, SSILD method
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Gorgeouslypink recliner method
I LOVE YOUR MANIFESTATIONS AND EVERYTHING SOUNDS SO FUN OMGG!! LLYSM <33
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pigeonfisch · 1 year
Text
The urge to ice everyone out when my feelings get hurt one (1) time and never form another meaningful connection is so strong….
#i think it’s my Virgo sun tbh#anyways#I’m past the point in my life where I do this (it used to be super bad)#like. i had no real friendships for years because I was too afraid of getting hurt#polite interactions only#and then when I was back in a friend group it was weird and I didn’t know how to act and convinced myself everyone hated me#like genuinely thought everyone found me so annoying#so I stopped hanging out w those people too#now I have a couple of good friends in person and a couple more online#looking back it was such a lonely way to live#not letting anyone too close#including family and my partner#but I thought I was protecting myself from getting hurt#in a way it kind of worked. but I also missed out on so many normal teenage things because I refused to get close to anyone#even still I have a fear that secretly everyone who talks to me hates me#but now I try to think that if that’s true it’s their problem#the problem with having meaningful friendships is that they can end#everything will eventually I suppose#but it feels abrupt.#people leave that is a consistency in my life#and my gut reaction is always to shut down#bury myself in my job#stop speaking to anyone I don’t have to#but yk what I’m not going to do that this time#yeah it hurts! it always will hurt a little I think#but I am okay. i need to stop isolating and picking up extra hours to ignore my problems#😞William t spears moment#jk#anyways sorry for the venting in the tags#(btw it’s not my Virgo sun it’s trauma response)
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ineffable-romantics · 8 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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