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#High school ain’t that bad yet
pnuk-r0ck · 2 years
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Growing up is realizing you were bullied a lot in elementary and middle school
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javiscigarette · 8 months
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Teacher's Pet
Joel Miller x virgin f!reader
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Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help. 
Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).
w/c: 7.7k idk what happened
a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm
Part Two
my masterlist
"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever." Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed. "A what?" "Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.  "No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 
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"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp. 
"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time” 
"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.
Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."
You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.
"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."
You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."
You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.
"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."
"You think so?" You ask hopefully.
"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."
Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."
"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pissy, dump his ass."
"That simple, huh?" You scoff.
"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."
"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!
"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."
You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.
"I've watched porn before" you retort. 
"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.
"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.
Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.
"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"
You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.
"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"
"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."
"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.
"Alright. Then do."
"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.
Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face. 
"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."
You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out. 
It's not a bad idea, not necessarily. 
You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along fabulously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies and you watch movies together almost every Friday night.
 It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.
It's an absolutely insane idea. 
You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.
"What?" he says, looking back at you.
"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.
"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."
You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.
"I wasn't gonna say anything."
"Well now you're lying."
"I'm not."
"You're doing it again!"
"Doing what?!"
"That face!"
"I'm not making a face!"
"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"
You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself. 
"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."
Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.
"A what?"
"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. 
"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 
His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.
"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.
"Is that what you want?"
You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.
"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."
He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.
"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back. 
But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.
"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.
"It's okay, come here."
His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.
"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."
You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.
"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."
There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.
"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.
"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."
"Not drunk?”
"Nope."
"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."
"Uh huh."
"And you still want to?"
You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.
"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."
He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—
His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm. 
"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"
You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe. 
"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod. 
You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.
He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.
It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt. 
He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing. 
"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.
"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"
"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body. 
"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."
His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.
You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.
"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.
"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek. 
"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.
"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.” 
You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.
"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"
"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."
You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.
"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"
Joel hums as he thinks for a moment. 
"What do you want to do?"
You stare at him for a second, blinking.
"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.
"Well, how far do you want to take this?"
You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?
Yeah, probably.
"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way” 
He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.
"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."
You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.
"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't want to, I get it, I can just leave and-"
Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.
"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."
"I want it.” 
He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again. 
“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.” 
Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.
"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."
"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"
Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.
"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile. 
"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.
"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.
"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.
You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.
"I’ll be good. I promise."
"Liar"
"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."
You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.
"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.
His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.
He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.
He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists. 
“Can I take this off, baby?”
Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.
Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.
But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.
"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.
"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.
His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt. 
"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."
The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing. 
He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.
"Can I?" he asks.
"Please."
He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.
His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.
He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.
"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly. 
"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"
He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.
"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.
You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.
"Get on the bed, baby."
You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.
He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.
"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."
"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.  
"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"
Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.
"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.
He grins, his brow quirking up.
"Look at you, being all bossy"
"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.
His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer. 
“I sure do.” 
He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can. 
"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.
He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.
His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.
You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath. 
Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.
"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.
He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.
"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.
"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit. 
"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.
"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"
You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him. 
"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again 
Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.
"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."
"But-"
"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.
You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.
"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.
"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."
You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.
And he's barely touched you.
"How's that feel?"
You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.
He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.
"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.
"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"
You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now. 
"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.
"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically. 
"I know, honey, I know."
You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.
"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.
"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.
White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge. 
You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-
"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.
You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.
He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.
"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.
"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth. 
"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.
He grunts and shakes his head.
"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."
You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again. 
He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.
"Alright?"
You swallow and nod, licking your lips.
"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"
"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him. 
"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"
"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"
"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.
He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.
"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"
He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.
"See what I mean?"
"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"
He hums and nips at your thigh.
"Damn right I do."
You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.
His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.
He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.
The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.
"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"
His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.
He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.
Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.
You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?
You're fucked.
A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.
"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"
He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive. 
Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.
He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless. 
But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.
You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.
How to please him. 
You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans. 
You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.
"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.
"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."
Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.
"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"
"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.
He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.
"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"
You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.
"Oh my god, that was terrible."
"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.
"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.
"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.
You gulp and lick your lips.
"Or..."
He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.
"Yeah, that's what I thought"
You glare at him and then sigh.
"You're a bully"
"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."
You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick. 
"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.
"And proud of it.”
"Pride is a sin."
"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"
You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.
"You're ridiculous"
"You love it"
And that's the thing, isn't it?
Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.
And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.
You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.
"Joel?" you say his name softly.
"Yeah, baby?"
"Teach me."
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Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!
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inknopewetrust · 1 month
Text
𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐅𝐥𝐲
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Summary: Tyler’s always wanted to show you something he loved—it just took some bad weather for it to appear. [Tyler Owens x Reader] [WC:2.6k}
Warnings: language, college-aged Tyler & reader, fluff, romance, this is a comedy? Idk folks. No smut though—sry :/. Just good ole fashion kissin’ in the rain. And what if I said this story was my real life experience, then what?
Quick Links: Masterlist [including other twisters fics]
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“Where are we going?”
The tires of the truck were clunking along the rocky path to… well, nowhere. Thick trees surrounded you; the sun barely peeking through them as it began to decline in the sky and yet the truck kept tumbling along.
Shit. You thought for a brief moment as he didn’t reply. He might murder me.
“I told you,” his voice rang through your mind like a pinball machine. “It’s a surprise.”
“What if I said I didn’t like surprises?”
Tyler glanced at you as the truck hit a rough patch. Your hand was white-knuckling the grab handle above the window and your face was torn up in concern for the locale.
“I’d say, ‘honey’,” he put a hand on your clothed thigh. “I ain’t gonna murder you.”
“Well now that makes me think you are gonna murder me.”
Tyler laughed, squeezing your thigh joyously.
He was a maniac—Tyler Owens.
But he was also many things you did not know of yet. The first time you laid eyes on him was around eight months back when he walked in two minutes before the chemistry lecture. Every seat in the room was nearly filled except for the lone seat on the inside of the lecture hall beside you.
And when he sat there, you couldn’t focus on one goddamn thing.
It was silly—being twenty-one and having a crush on a guy in your science class. You weren’t in high school anymore but you sure as hell felt like it. When he asked for an eraser, you were too eager to provide it. One day he forgot his computer so he asked for some paper in the notebook you elected to use.
Each day you’d arrive a minute earlier than before with a childish hope that he would too and you’d be able to talk to him, learn about him. You weren’t in the same lab section so it was growing increasingly difficult to manifest a semblance of potential when it only occurred twice a week for an hour and fifteen minutes.
Fuck college schedules, is what you had concluded when he wouldn’t show up twenty minutes early to class.
Yet fate had a funny way of dictating what happens when.
Three months into class, your roommate suggested getting out and heading to a frat party one Saturday night and it shouldn’t have been a surprise to see him there. And out of some kindness, he went out of his way to say hi to his “lecture buddy” who’d helped him in times of need.
Every class that followed grew something in you. He came early to lecture to talk to you, joking about anything but the subject and going on and on about what he wanted to do when he graduated. His smile was contagious, as with his laugh. Bellowing and loud; Tyler Owens was everyone’s friend and everyone’s crush and you happened to be lucky enough to sit beside him until it was all over.
The semester ended and your interactions with Tyler ceased.
And it made you feel a little crazy for feeling down and out about your luck. Your roommates and friends tried everything to get you on the market: going to parties, joining strange clubs, playing trivia at the bar on Wednesday nights but nothing.
It was all nothing until something caught your eye.
You saw a flier for a meteorology seminar with a guest speaker from your local news. The premise wasn’t overly exciting for any one student at the university but for you, it was interesting enough to attend on a vacant Tuesday evening.
Like fate had promised before, it dealt you a winning hand.
Tyler spotted you as you walked through the door and waved you down. In your dumps, you forgot to think his attendance was a possibility even after he mentioned time and time again that he’d love to be on television, that he’d die to help people protect themselves.
So when he got ready to leave after the lecture, you weren’t going to die without facing a fear. You had to protect yourself from another six weeks of imaginary mourning and asked for his number.
And six weeks later you concluded he was going to murder you in some remote location in the plains of Arkansas.
“I’m not gonna murder you, alright?” He chuckled. His eyes were illuminated with a mischievous glow you couldn’t escape. You saw his eyes in dreams and knew you’d never want to imagine a day without them.
Fuck, you thought. It was way too early to be thinking of that.
“Then tell me!” You looked over at him with reason. “This road is so shitty I can’t imagine what’s on the other end!”
“Paradise, baby!” He smiled. “When I was a kid, my pops used to take me and my brother down here to go fishing. It’s this picnic area that I think,” he glanced at you with raised eyebrows, “no one else knows about. So don’t go runnin’ and tellin all them about this, ok?”
Oh.
It was personal.
“I won’t,” you promised.
“When my grandpa died I was,” he thought back on it as if it were long ago. “Nine and I came here with my mom and just sat. We stared out at the water and watched the ducks and the birds fly over until the sun went down. This was his spot and he passed it on to me.”
You suddenly felt an urge of regret pass over you as the comments from before soured.
“Tyler,” you said solemnly. “I didn’t—“
He brushed the nonverbal apology away.
“It’s alright,” he reassured. “There are plenty of reasons why you could have felt that way.”
It was heartwarming that Tyler didn’t dismiss your fears. There were so many guys, barely men, who would have called you crazy for a lot less. Tyler never made you feel that way.
Being with him was like chasing a high of the greatest strengths. Everything he did revolved around his ability to be free and willing to do what scared him the most and it was enchanting.
You could feel the sparks hit your heart.
“I’ve never taken anyone there before.”
“No?”
“You’d be the first.”
The two of you let that sit in the air as the road became more suitable for driving. The smoothness was welcome as his admission settled between you.
The first. He thought you special enough to be the first person to witness this place. You could have been ten feet tall at that moment. Never had anyone ever made you feel so special.
As the roads improved, the clearings of trees and bushes began to open up to a wider area with a paved lot on a taller hill.
It was beautiful.
Only the fairy tales could conjure a place like that. Billowing pines and lush greens on the bank of a river cut off by a large damn. The rushing water filled your ears amidst the squawking of wildlife uninterrupted by human activity.
It was so peaceful, charming.
The sun’s orange rays twinkled down onto the water and made it sparkle. Flowers in bloom, the buzzing of cicadas at the arrival of a hot and early spring warmed your cheeks as Tyler put the truck into park.
He watched you take in your surroundings of pure nature. A slight awe in your eyes, shallow breath at the sights. You were a vision in his favorite place.
“I thought we could have dinner here,” he tipped his head to the back seat where he had plastic Walmart bags full of food, unprepared and prepared for whatever fit your fancy. “And then, if we’re lucky, maybe it will rain.”
“Rain?” You turned to meet his eyes and they crinkled at the sides. Endearing, charming—just like this place.
Tyler hummed. “You mean to say you’ve never heard of rain?”
His words quickly became a joke. You rolled your eyes, hitting his chest with the back of your hand. It was solid under your touch and you were reminded that he was real. It wasn’t a fairytale and you were very much living it.
“Ha-ha,” you replied dryly.
“I’ll keep that one as a surprise.”
“I checked the weather before we left and,” you pointed to the sky. “No rain.”
Tyler unbuckled himself and opened his door.
“They just don’t see what I do.”
“And what’s that?” You asked him but he shut the door, moving to the backseat to take out the bags of items he procured, and then as ever the gentleman, opened your own door.
“Magic.”
You laughed but he was being serious. His eyes still gleamed with the same sly nature he was born with, but his touch was comfort. Hands carefully guiding you to a spot that he had meticulously planned out—even if this appeared to be a spur of the moment outing for you.
Everything was planned. Tyler wasn’t going to take just anyone to this spot. He’d be a fool to lie and say he hadn’t spoken to his mother about his plans just to hear her perspective on whether it was creepy, brilliant, or just plain sad.
However, he carried on to face his fears of bringing someone he liked to a place near-sacred to him. Tyler wasn’t a fool of love, he just hadn’t found anyone worth sharing these bits of him. And he also didn’t expect the feeling to come about so quickly.
Those fears he let simmer never truly came about in the reality he lived.
You were smitten. Absolutely fallen into this little spot in this tiny corner of the world with a man who was opening up before you. Tyler made the puzzle pieces of a perfect date fit together wonderfully.
The food, the drinks, the atmosphere—he hit an apex of the paragon of “partner,” “boyfriend,” or “lover.”
And you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as the sun began to truly fade.
You took a sip of your drink, coming down from a high of laughter at a story Tyler shared at his brother’s detriment. The sky was a shimmering shade of reds and deepening blues now; orange melting away for the sake of night.
“No rain,” you pointed out. He shrugged his shoulders, moving from a lounging position on the worn blanket to a lying one. His arms perched behind his head.
Tyler stared at the stars beginning to form.
He could see the shapes of the clouds, the movement quickening and the air cooling. It was as special as this place, his talent for finding the storms. Whether they brew inside or out, he found them and chased them with a passion—unrelenting and fierce. He sought the thrill.
“The night’s not over yet,” he said coolly. “Don’t count me out.”
“I’m not counting you out,” you defended, moving scraps of discarded food away from you to lay next to him. You shuffled to get comfortable in his vicinity.
“How often do you stargaze?” Tyler asked.
“Not often. I don’t think there’s an opportunity for it when I have nowhere to go.”
He agreed with a grunt. “I think you’re lookin’ in the wrong spots, honey.”
Oh those godforsaken nicknames. The country in him seeped out at their mention.
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” he removed his arms from the back of his head and pointed to the now appearing stars the darker it became. “See here?”
You moved closer. “Not really.”
“There,” he pointed again. “Right there in the middle of those two clouds.”
There were two stories at play here: one of him proving that rain was coming in the guise of stars and the second of you trying to be aloof in order for him to touch you.
You’d spent the last hour with him. Watching him talk, eat, smile, and laugh at anything that brought him joy. Those lips begged you to kiss them. They beckoned you like a ship lost at sea and in the clouds, the water would find it.
You shook your head innocently.
“I don’t know what I’m looking at, Ty.”
“Here,” he took your hand in his and pointed to the stars. “Look.”
In the sky above, a faint outline of the Little Dipper appeared in your vision. You smiled lightly. His hand with his finger pointing was still outstretched and connected to yours which made it grow wider.
You were giddy.
Tyler moved his finger to fully cup your hand but as you kept looking at the sky, he looked at you. You could feel his eyes on you, the turn of his face and the low breaths he released through his nose.
“What else do you see?” He asked lowly.
You breathed in deeply. It was just too beautiful to explain one thing. The clouds grew thicker, dense in the night as light was swallowed up by the moon. The air was now cool enough to send a chill down your spine and wish the blanket was more than a thin excuse for a sheet.
“It’s getting cloudy,” you observed. “There are more stars and it’s cooling off.”
“Anything else?”
“It’s just beautiful.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “It is.”
“I’m can—“
You stopped mid-sentence at the sensation that hit your cheek.
It wasn’t air or breath or a bug or grass but a wetness that could have come from only one place: the sky. You waited for another to fall and it did not a second later. A third and fourth drop followed until it was a hundred drops or more into a steady downpour.
You scoffed in disbelief, sitting up to feel the rain in your palms and Tyler sat up too. His laugh was one of joy that followed yours.
“Oh my god!” You exclaimed as the water began to drench the area around you and your clothes.
“I told you!” Tyler shouted over the rain falling harder and harder. You blinked at him.
“How’d you know!?”
“Just did!”
“And what’s so magical about getting rained on?” You asked him.
He didn’t have a solid plan if it rained. All he knew is that he had seen this in the movies. A downpour catches two people in the rain and it creates one thing: magic. It’s innocent and daring, carefree and transparent. Rain makes lovers fall in love. It binds them to one spot, one moment in time where all the elements line up to craft one singular point that would forever be cemented in their memory.
“I don’t know,” he confessed.
Tyler positioned one hand to lean on behind your back while the other cupped your face. The rain dropped onto his hand but you were warm against the coldness of his hands. Your eyes glistened at him as the movies described.
“I don’t know what’s so magical about it.”
“Me either.”
“Can you kiss me?” You asked him. It wasn’t a question, per se. He was going to kiss you.
Tyler nodded his head, leaning in to meet your lips as the rain fell harder around you both. The sound of the rain disappeared when his lips met yours. Only the beat of your heart, the rush of your blood flooded your ears and body. You lifted a hand to grip his arm as he tilted his head, using his leverage to position you the way he wanted and deepened the kiss.
You could feel the tendrils of a story weaving in your bones. The place, the time, the kiss… it was a fairytale.
You dropped everything and kissed him in the pouring rain in a spot now forever implanted in your history, you felt the sparks fly higher.
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A/N: thanks for reading! As always comments, reblog, and likes are always appreciated. I love hearing from all of you and your reactions motivate us greatly!
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suguru-getos · 8 months
Text
| Bully! Gojo Satoru x F!Reader | Part 1 |
Summary: You had just transferred schools, and your first day was an encounter with your new bully. He’s mean, terrifically hot & absolutely a menace. Though there’s more to that personna.
Warnings: Mean!Satoru, he calls the reader worthless, public!humiliation. Etc. The reader ain’t no pussy either by the way. They fight back.
New chapter every week | Comment down if you want to be tagged. ^^
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First day of school, High-school… you had jitters and excitement both, just thinking about it. When your alarm beeped, you couldn’t help but smile at the thought alone. Quickly rushing to the rest-room, washing your face, brushing your teeth, doing your skincare & taking your sweet time thinking about how your first day of school would be.
Your parents, thankfully have recently shifted to Tokyo, you don’t really have any bad memories from where you lived previously, and assuming the best should be the solution to everything in life, right? You had picked what to wear previously, knee length socks on a mini tennis skorts, patched up with a white full T-shirt with gloves for your thumb.
You rushed downstairs for breakfast, sitting with your family & then quickly rushing out. Your mom small talked about your excitement along with your brother, you nodded, grinning wide. “Yeah, yeah… really am excited!” You chirped, getting all the makeup essentials and school essentials ready in your bag.
Once you were out and about, reaching the highschool premises on time. You were awestruck, there were people swarming all over. Focussed on what they’re wearing, focussed on exclusive friend-groups, some of them were vlogging, some of them patting face powder on their faces. Oh damn… they were just being problematic it seemed. You weren’t close to being a conventional teen at all, not that you weren’t a teen at all. You hummed, managing to diverse your attention towards the highschool building, it was huge. So many people, so much…
“Oop- sorry” you bumped into someone… tall. Eyes traversing through his form as he looked down at you, nudging his black glasses down and smirking. Oh fucking hell… he had the prettiest blue eyes you had ever seen. The way he smirked, looking at you as if you’re a tiny, minuscule creature at his mercy. You weren’t used to that kind of a gaze at all. “Your name?” He said as if he’s conquered you. You hate people who talk like that.
Taken aback and batting your lashes at him, you mumbled… “Y/N.”
He smirked, licking his lips with his teeth. “Satoru Gojo, your senior. My dad’s a trustee of this school & I am pretty much the second owner.” He leaned in, bending over to get to your eye level as you cowered at the weird vibe & introduction. “Say sorry that you bumped into me.” He smirked, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.
“It was by mistake — I don’t see why I should say sorry to you.” You managed to speak clearly, ensuring you were polite. The people/minions surrounding him laughed at your audacity. No one tells him shit. This was something new… apart from Suguru Geto; his best friend. Satoru Gojo’s words were the law. He has no problem beating the shit out of people who don’t listen. There’s a rumor that because of him, someone had tried to commit suicide. Just because Satoru didn’t like them, so… nobody else did.
Satoru raised a brow, smirking. “Ah, you’re new. I’ll let this one go. Let me rephrase, okay sweetheart?” He leaned in, hand touching your face with one hand. “C’mon, use that worthless mouth for something good & say sorry. Right. Now.” His jaw twitched, the hold not tender in any way. You flinched, why was no one stopping him! Where were the bloody teachers! Your pupils vibrated as you glanced at his blue eyes. You want to tell him to piss off so bad. Yet, you can’t really do that because of the way he’s puckered your lips up. Neither can you apologize.
“Can’t speak?” He shook your face to a nod, getting his own answers, while you groaned. Red hot embarrassment flushing on your cheeks. “Are you a little dumb bitch?” He forced a nod again, everyone laughing. “Aww, I know you are. So honest.” He chuckled, just having a little fun out of you. Frankly, he never knew why he was so mean… or just stomping everyone. Maybe he has this inherent habit of being worshipped & a problematic intolerance towards people who don’t.
Your eyes prickled with tears, and he finally let your face go, a little push to his hold. “Should’ve just apologized, don’t like bein’ mean to pretty girls.” He winked, walking away.
You felt daggered by multiple, hot & burning judgemental gazes around. Kudos to your first day of Highschool. You excused yourself to the rest-room. You needed a breather… and you wanted to cry, and kill him…
“That was a little too much.” Geto hummed, walking alongside him with his usual close-eyed smirk. Satoru waved his hand dismissively. “Eh, her eyes were so rebellious I hated that.” He growled, scoffing. It was true… but you didn’t know how much that’ll land you in trouble in future.
The class was good, teachers yapping and teaching & you taking notes was the perfect scenario for you to distract yourself. Then, came lunch time.
There was a pink-haired girl, gorgeous and happy-go-lucky looking… you decided to approach her and wave. “Oh hey!” She glanced at you and smiled. “Hey! You must be the girl who pissed Gojo senpai off.” She chuckled, though you sense no malice in her tone. Wow, so that’s become your new identity eh? You hate this… “yeah, Haha… that’d be me.” You decided to own that, “I was thinking if you wanna join me for, uh, lunch?” You perked up a little. You were upfront enough to ask a few others and they decided to have lunch with you.
You hate eating alone, and you were one of the new folks. The others just got promoted so it was hard to mingle. Luckily, your confidence might help.
You took your food, and walked back to the table, this time… someone again collided with you. The gravy of the food spilled all across their crisp white shirt.
“Oh shit oh I’m so sorry-” you looked up to find the familiar face who waxed you this morning. Did he collide with you on purpose? You definitely think so because you’re not so air-headed.
“Oh you just want to be an idiot all day huh?” Satoru sighed, one of the girls glaring at you and brining out a tissue, inching to clean him up. “Did I ask for that help sweetheart?” He smiled at her, indicating her to stop touching him. “Think you’ll earn brownie points and be popular?” He didn’t stop until she fully backed off, cleaning himself up.
It was like everyone had only one job, glancing at you two & waiting for you to suffer. Fucking hell!
“So, do you know how much this shit costs?” Satoru smirked, walking closer to you, you instinctively stepped backwards. “N-no I’m sorry I just didn’t think- it also felt like you bumped into me on purpose-”
“On purpose?” There was a chuckle laced with disbelief on his lips. “That’s too high and mighty of you to think. I don’t even let girls who look like you grind on my shoe, honey.” He emphasized, slapping your delusion. Or you can say, shoving the truth away.
People didn’t laugh this time, because Satoru looked genuinely pissed. Well, so were you. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” You held your plate close and purposely, drenched him even further in gravy. “Looks just as filthy as you deserve.” You teared up, gosh this was humiliating. “And by the way, I don’t even look at guys like you either. Who think the world revolves around them because mommy & daddy just stuffed their ass with money.”
You walked away with that… but was that the right thing to do? You just dug your grave deeper.
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jaegerrb0mb · 5 months
Text
Miss all American </3
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Note: this is part two of my hot garbage fic
even if it hurts <3 and this one is just as bad and I also didn’t read over it as well.. 😐
Summary: Visiting her favorite cafe in japan reader runs into her ex bf
Warnings: jokes of being engaged, talks of marriage/having a baby, my horrible grammar, and somewhat fluff?
Pairing: ProHero! katsuki bakugou x ProHero! Fem Reader
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"Hello, H/N, what can I get for you?" The cashier asks with an admiring expression, yet he is trying to play it cool that a top-ranking hero from the US is standing right in front of him. "Can I get a (your coffee or tea order) and one of those pumpkin muffins, please?" You point at the little dessert window and give the cashier a bright smile. "Yes, of course, Miss H/N," he says, moving quickly to make your order.
It’s been awhile since you were in Japan; in fact, you haven’t been here since graduation. You moved to the US quickly after finishing school when you heard there were more villains and not a lot of heroes out there, and you wanted to help in the most possible way, so you went abroad. You're out here visiting; it’s the first time you’ve been back to Japan in 5 years. You’ve been considering moving back, seeing as much as you missed it. Especially the cafe you’re in right now,
Taking a look around, it hasn’t changed one bit and still looks like it did when you were a teenager. Memories quickly flood your mind.
and you can’t help the bittersweet pain of nostalgia that burns through your chest.
"Here ya go!" The cashier hands you your order with a huge grin that pulls you out of your short thoughts. "Oh, thank you. How much will this be?" tilting your head to the side when he gives you a funny look. "Didn’t you hear me earlier? I said it was on the house." He laughs a bit at your confused expression. "Erm.. why?"
He leans over the counter a bit. "My family is from America; my mom told me a story about how you saved her life, so take it as my way of saying thank you." You smile softly at his words when he finishes. 'That explains why he recognizes me; I didn’t think anyone in Japan knew of me.
 
"Well, t-
 
"Heeey dynamight! Would you like your usual?" The cashier completely ignores you, focusing his attention fully on the male behind you. 'Dyna, wait, katsuki?' Quickly turning on your heels to face the man, it is in fact him and even more handsome than you remembered from your high school days. He’s wearing his hero uniform without the gauntlets, but it definitely has a lot of new upgrades. He's got a few scars on his arms and neck, some look old and some look more fresh; his hair is no longer the uneven choppy locks you used to love running your hands through; it's now an undercut, but the spikes still remain at the top; he always had a large, broad, and strong body, but now he looks more toned; his muscles are more defined, making him look in better shape than ever; he's a lot taller; and his eyes don’t hold as much hostility as before. He looks mature now. And a lot hotter if that were even possible.
"what’s the matter? never saw the No. 2 up close?" He taunts at you, but he gets no response except your dumbfounded expression. He steps a bit closer taking you in, his own eyes widen before turning to a more softer gaze, "l/n? Ain’t you some american hero now?" his voice is smooth as honey and It takes a second for you to gather your stunned self to try forming words "I am, I’m just visiting." he hums in response. "If you have time, I’d love to chat and catch up with you, Mr. No. 2," you joked before grabbing your stuff and making your way to a nearby table to sit so that you don’t hold up a line by the front.
Sipping from your drink and scrolling through social media on your phone, not really paying attention as you keep glancing up watching katsuki pay for his order until he finally makes his way over to you, now sitting across from you.
"So, what’s it like in America?" He asked, taking a sip of his own coffee and leaning over the table a bit. "It’s nice; I like it a lot, but I was actually thinking about- 
"Do you have a boyfriend?" He catches you off guard almost making you slice your finger as you were about to cut your pumpkin muffin. "Oh, straight to the point huh?" you laugh to play it cool, but your heart has been hammering in your chest since you laid eyes on him. "Just answ-
"no, I don’t.. I haven’t dated anyone cause I’ve been focusing on my hero work and it’s quite hard to find the time for it, you know? How bout you?" Sliding half of a muffin over to him. and taking a bite out of your half. something you always did as teenagers when the two of you came to this cafe in the middle of fall was split a pumpkin muffin. they were always out of them and you could never get your hands on them. and since you got the last one you decided to offer him half. it wasn’t anything special but you hoped it sparked the same nostalgia you’ve been feeling all day onto him. and you know it did when you catch the corners of his mouth quirk up into a small smile.
"I’m engaged."
His sentence throws you into a coughing fit as you look up to see him untuck a chain under his hero uniform from around his neck that holds a sliver ring, but he’s quick to tuck it back before you can even examine it.
he leans back crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk as he watches your coughing die down.  
"Oh, I-wow, congratulations, bakugou." Your smile is forced as you blink back tears from coughing and from pain before leaning down to take another sip of your drink, and he can tell your smile was fake as he begins to laugh. "No need to get jealous now; I’m messing with you." He untucks it again to show it to you.
It’s the promise ring you gave to him when you were 16.
You feel relieved, but your eyes still widen. "You kept it all this time? Why do you still wear it?" You quirk an eyebrow while watching as he takes a bite of his muffin and wait for him to answer.
"I guess to mess around with idiots like you." He finishes his coffee before he continues. "Well, to be honest, I never really could’ve found the heart to throw it, and it’s the only thing I've had from you since you left. Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving? You didn’t tell anyone, and you never called either. I had to find out from damn endeavor out of all people." He toys with the ring around his neck as you frown. "I couldn’t find the heart to say goodbye to you or our classmates. I felt like a jerk, but I knew it was for the better, at least at the time. I don’t know, Kats-Bakugou."
"You don’t have to correct yourself; you can call me by my first name, Miss American." He jokes, trying to make the conversation lighthearted while tucking the ring back once again. "What is your rank there anyway?"
"I’m the No. 2 hero, like you." You stick your tongue out at him before finishing the remains of your muffin. "Wow, with a brain like yours, I figured you’d be at least in the 50s," he smirked, making you lean over the table and hit him lightly. "You’re so mean, Katsuki," you pout playfully. "It’s called honesty, y/n." He laughs when you roll your eyes and slouch back in your chair. "You know you’re lucky you’re handsome, or I’d really be offended right now." You sip your drink. "Oh really? You think I’m handsome?" He rests his arms on the table, leaning forward. you smirk, coping his actions. "Yeah, but it’s too bad you’re engaged." You throw his joke back at him.
"Haha, so funny."
"You’re the one that said it, not me."
"Forget about that. Wanna come back to my place?"
"You shouldn’t cheat on your fiancé."
You smile playfully as he shakes his head, leaning in a bit more.
"The only woman I’d ever be engaged to is sitting right in front of me, but it’s too bad she decided to leave the day after graduation. not even caring to give me a phone call." he playfully clicks his tongue. "Yeah, but the phone works both ways," you shrug.
"doesn’t change the fact that you ruined my plan to take you back after school." He leans back in his chair, now crossing his arms once again. you scoffed. "That’s bullshit, and we both know that."
"Me asking you to be my wife was bullshit? I had the whole thing planned for how I was going to propose, and if you didn’t go Miss all American on me, I bet we’d be married with a baby on the way. That is what you wanted when we were together, right? to have a family young?" He makes a "tch" noise, tilting his head up at the ceiling, causing you to frown. "You shouldn’t joke about that, Katsuki."
He quickly turns his attention back to you.
"I never said I was." His words are followed by silence besides the other people around chatting, but still enough to leave thick tension in the air.
"Katsuki, I-
He suddenly reaches for your drink, taking a sip from it and taking you by surprise. "Hey! I never said you could-
"And it’s still not too late for that." his voice holding a deeper rasp as he clears his throat. "Listen, y/n, I’m going to be straight forward with you because there’s no reason for me to lie. I always loved you, and I never stopped loving you. I don’t care if you live in fuckin’ Guam, Canada, or wherever; I know I can make long-distance work for however long you want it to work. Remember back then when I said I’d take you back in a heartbeat? I still stand by that. So if you still want that future you planned with me, try giving me a call; it’s the same damn number I’ve always had." He places your drink down and gets up to leave, but you catch him by his wrist. "Didn’t you ask if I wanted to go back to your place?" giving him doe eyes while your fingers danced their way up his muscles. He leans down so he’s face-to-face with you. "Gotta finish patrol; don’t worry, babe; promise, as soon as I’m off the clock, I’ll take you there." He gives you a smug smile, turning back around to leave. You call out to him once more before he makes it through the door.
"Katsuki!" He stills but doesn’t turn. "I’m here for two weeks."
"Better be ready; I’ll make it worth your while."
With that, he went.
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Tags: @sofilsword @the-dumpster-fire-of-life
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yurinaa-world · 6 months
Note
hello!! platonic dr ratio with a teen!student reader who excels at one particular subject but is bad or average on the others? also lacks social skills
(kinda inspired by me lol 💀)
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𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Dr. Ratio platonic! x Gender-neutral Reader
𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: with student reader who excels at one subject but is bad at the others + lacks social skills
𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff and spelling mistakes, got lil personal
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𝒱𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓈 𝑅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜
He’s so strict about your grades, looking at you with disappointment as if a parent would when their child an F. What? does the information just go through and out one ear? (it does for me 😀)  Can your brain handle one sentence at a time since it doesn’t look like it to him with these embarrassing grades?
He immediately got you into summer school so you could at least try to get good at other subjects, one subject won’t get you a future. Even worse with fact you can’t even talk without staring endlessly at your paper contemplating just to ask him the most simple question.
The man knows no mercy, making you write out several essays over the whole summer but just like every teacher that wants to suck the souls from students he’ll make you plan every tad bit of detail, even refuse you from starting to write if one detail isn’t explained and well thought out enough for him.
Then oh don’t forget to make the rough draft of the essay (it’s more like writing the real essay itself with the way he’s being strict with every typo & grammar mistake, but oh don’t think you're going to get this using simple and basic words like “in conclusion.” or “well, I believe.” Throw those out the window along with every other basic sentence that people use to put up the word count or just get the whole thing over with. He isn't accepting it. No exceptions.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Blank.
You’ve been staring at the next part of your sentence but unsure how to use the word “Magnanimity”. How were you even supposed to use this in a sentence?! (he made you pick several high-level words to use in an essay), you look up to silently curse your teacher, Mr. Ratio out in your head before immediately looking back down when your eyes connect.
You begin to contemplate, that maybe jumping out the window ain’t bad, it might be your only way to get out of here. you sigh, just giving up on your constant stalling, getting up from your chair (with your paper in hand) and walking over to your teacher, dreading every step you take.
Before stopping at his desk, “Mr. Ratio, could you tell me what the definition is for magnanimity again?” He just sighs, closing up the book he always reads. (You don’t know why he always reads the same thing, it’s so boring.)
“Magnanimity means the loftiness of spirit enabling one to bear trouble calmly, to disdain meanness and pettiness, and to display a noble generosity.”
you stare at him blankly, he wasn’t kidding, he seriously expected you to know what he was saying?! “I’m sorry but what does that even mean?” you whisper your voice cracking with frustration, you just feel a blood vessel getting bigger.
He sighs once again “Showing kindness towards an enemy or you had been defeated in battle. using it in a sentence would be like he showed magnanimity towards his enemy, understand?” 
“Oh, okay. Thank you Mr. Ratio” You nod taking in his words. “Let me see your essay.” He tells you out of the blue, holding his hand out to see your paper, which makes your mouth dry. “you have something written, correct? Let me see it.”
You give him your paper and watch in nervousness before he begins to read out loud “A great man once spoke mighty wor-“ “Mr ratio please read it in your head!”  you cut him off with panic, yet what a fool you are since when was he merciful? “a great man once spoke mighty words…”
Listening to him read your essay made you cringe and close your ears. He’s the worst!
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youthereader · 9 months
Text
Gator blackmails you.
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pairing: gator tillman (fargo) x teenage fem!reader
summary: 1.9k. to avoid arrest, you do something for gator.
rating: e; dubcon, mentions of underage drinking, reader is an 18 year-old high schooler, blowjob (m recieving), vaginal fingering, praise kink, toxic dynamics
a/n: there's just something about this guy! I hate him but I want him! this is my first ever joe keery character fic, so please be gentle.
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“Go fuck yourself!”
“I wouldn’t be talkin’ to me like that if I were ya.”
This town makes it easy to hate cops, especially because of Sheriff Tillman and his son. Luckily for you, or not so luckily, depending on how you look at it, you’re dealing with Gator tonight.
He has you backed into the side of his car, all alone, and it’s freezing cold. You can see your breaths in front of your faces, your body occasionally shivering. Your cute outfit just feels idiotic now, along with many other decisions that led you up to this point.
Gator’s eyes shift to the end of the street, which is completely deserted. You and your friends were there together up until a few minutes ago, when his cop car turned the corner and spotted you.
“Your friends ain’t gonna help ya,” he says. “They’re long gone.”
“And I meant it when I said it the first time – go fuck yourself!”
He smirks, lifting his vape to his lips and inhales. He exhales away from you, but you can still smell the mango scent as it drifts into the night. He smells like whatever body spray he showered himself in earlier, too. It’s not bad, exactly. Just invasive, lingering. Kind of like Gator himself.
You’ve known each other for years. He was in your older brother’s class in high school, in and out of your life forever, and this is the closest you’ve been to him in a long time. He always sort of scared you as a kid, but now it’s a different kind of fear. Less boogeyman, more realistic and sadistic.
Especially after he told you to suck his cock so he doesn’t arrest you for drinking underage.
“Somethin’ like this on your record when you’re applyin’ for college…”
He trails off, shaking his head. Your face warms and your guts twist. He can’t be serious, and yet you find it entirely possible he means it. His eyes dip to your lower half, your stupid short skirt and tights. You’re not even wearing snow boots, what the fuck were you thinking? You’re not even tipsy anymore by how sobering this is.
“Your brother would be shattered, too.”
“Don’t talk about my brother,” you snarl.
You take a step forward and he doesn’t flinch, eyes dipping to your lips. Your stomach flips at the sight of him taking you in like that.
“You a virgin?” he whispers.
You step back, face on fire, ignoring him. He makes a show of sighing, putting his vape away to take out his handcuffs.
“Okay, turn around.”
“Wait-”
“You can explain you and your delinquent buddies down at the station-”
You do think of college now. You care about getting out of this town, away from shitbirds like Gator Tillman. Without college, it’s that much harder to succeed. You think of the shame and humiliation your family would feel, because it would get around so fast, your drinking.
“Okay, okay! Okay!” you yelp, as he spins you around.
He presses up against you, hips to your ass and you gasp at the force of him.
“Okay, what?”
“Okay, I’ll do it,” you whisper. Your eyes shut and you gulp. “I’ll blow you.”
“Nope, changed my mind-”
You start to beg, but he still cuffs you, takes hold of your wrists to open the backseat and pushes you inside with ease. He’s deceptively strong. You land sidewards, and he slams the door shut as you struggle to sit up, slipping into the front seat.
“Asshole,” you hiss, hating him.
You start to wish your arrest would be for more, like assaulting an officer. He probably tried to blackmail you just to see if you’d say yes.
He takes off and you manage to sit up, huffing as you glare at the back of his head through the divider. You realize then that he’s not headed towards the station, but further out, further away from the center of town. You feel panic start to set in, your eyes meeting his in the rear-view mirror.
“Hey, what the fuck?”
“Y’know, I was on my way home when I picked ya up,” he calls over the engine.
He’s speeding and you feel each lurch of the car, every swerve.
“I wasn’t even lookin’ for some action tonight. But you always are. Fuckin’ whores.”
He can’t be talking to you. He must mean the collective ‘you’, of all the girls in town he sees. Has he done this before?
“You’re all whores.”
He seems on a roll, so you stay silent. He drives to the high school, to the football field at the back, the turf iced over and crunching underfoot. You know this because you walk across it most days, dreaming of somewhere far warmer. College was meant to take you away from the cold.
He parks the car. As it idles, he turns around in his seat.
“So have we got a deal?” he says, and you blink at him.
“Uh, yeah.”
He seems to have changed, he seems younger. You stare back at him and he frowns. It’s almost comical.
“What did ya think I was goin’ to do?”
“What kind of question is that -?”
He jumps out of the front and opens the back, crowding you, and he shuts it behind him, settling beside you. You glance down at your own arm pointedly, and he moves forward to uncuff you.
“I wasn’t gonna rape you or somethin’… your brother’s my buddy.”
“I hope he’s not,” you snap.
“Hey,” he says, and he tugs you toward him. “I still could arrest ya. Public intoxication? Underage drinkin’? Intent to sell?”
“Intent to sell what?” you retort. “I have nothing on me-”
“For now.”
You glare at him, rubbing your sore wrists, and he smirks again. His gaze dips again to your mouth.
“You’re kinda cute when you’re pissed off, did ya know that? You’re eighteen, right?”
“You are fucked up,” you say.
The silence between you is heavy, and he pulls in a breath, not disagreeing with you. You close your eyes for courage, breathing in his scent. Annoyingly, he smells really good, and the heat of his body makes it weirdly intimate.
“If I do this, then you’ll let me off the hook?”
Your eyes meet and he nods. “Sure, baby.”
You sigh, moving to unzip his fly and put a hand in his underwear. He’s hard already, and huge. Holy shit, you were not expecting that – and neither did you consider physically reacting to him like you do. Your stomach flips as your face burns with want. You want this.
“C’mon.”
You obey, ducking down to swallow him, trying not to cough, and Gator sucks in a breath on impact. His hand finds the back of your neck and squeezes, your thighs pressing together. His direction helps you with your initial nerves. Giving bad head would surely mean arrest.
You find yourself trying to not show too much enthusiasm, either. This tightrope means sucking his cock but suppressing your moans, because you’re not a virgin. You’ve done this many times before, but it hasn’t been like this. It hasn’t been risky, or so matter of fact.
He holds you like someone with experience does, and you like it a lot. You shift your hips a little, heat below your navel. He yanks you off him, drool on your mouth and chin, and kisses you.
His hot tongue pushes into your mouth and you grunt in surprise, not disgust, and he’s good. He’s really good at making you go in for more when he moves his lips away from you, staring at you with a glazed expression on his face.
“I knew it,” he whispers. “I knew you’d enjoy this.”
“Shut up,” you mumble.
“Hmm, I like it…”
His hand trails down your side, then under your skirt. You turn your head away from him, whimpering when his fingers curl into the waistband of your tights, pulling them down. You take his cock into your mouth again, re-doubling your efforts, and Gator groans for the first time, his hand more determined.
His fingers meet your underwear, rubbing over the clothed cut of you. You know you must be wet by now, and he doesn’t humiliate you for that. Instead, he pushes aside the material to reach your cunt, tucking two fingers inside with ease.
“Fuck,” you moan, because he’s not gentle.
You bob your head, tasting his pre-cum, sacrificing air to get him off. You’re fighting the building pleasure inside you, until he pinches your clit and you cry out, starting to tremble.
“That’s it. Good girl,” he whispers, and you cough, taking him as far as you can out of sheer desperation. “Good girl…”
You come, your orgasm ripped from you, and you can’t hide it by how you clench around him and shudder. You ride his hand to the very end, and his fingers stay inside you, that possessive edge to him still as he grips your neck a little tighter.
“C’mon…”
He starts to pant, your eyes streaming now as you commit to his end, and within a minute he follows you over the edge. His come hits the back of your throat and you go still, unsure of whether you’ll swallow. He doesn’t let go, and you decide then that you’ve gone this far already, you may as well…
“Good girl,” he gasps, and that does it.
You swallow, panting. Your ears are ringing and you feel dazed. At some point, the events of tonight will feel real. For now, you have to feel outside of yourself, watching Gator’s fingers move from under your skirt up to his mouth. He licks them clean and then tucks himself away, zipping his fly.
It is utterly bizarre, especially when he glances your way, searching you.
“I’ll drive ya home.”
“Yeah,” you murmur.
“Your friends are shitty, for runnin’ away like that,” he adds.
You nod. You wonder what you look like, sweaty and wrecked.
He moves back to the front seat, and you stare at him through the divider. When he finally looks at you again, you realise he must remember the way to your house from years ago. Something about that makes your chest ache. It’s been a weird night.
“Don’t do shit like that again, alright?” he says, and you nod again.
You don’t know if you’ll do as he says. He is right about your friends, though. Whatever apology they offer you when they see you on Monday will be bullshit and you know it. At least Gator isn’t bullshit.
He stops the car outside your house, and the lights are off. You snuck out hours ago, and your parents won’t know you ever left. But Gator will.
You think about seeing him again in town but don’t feel as miserable as you expect.
“I still think you should go fuck yourself,” you say, ducking under his arm when he lets you out of the car. You feel a little better already.
You glance back at him, and his eyebrows lift. He smirks.
“Okay, baby.”
His vape is back and he watches you walk to your front door. You smell his body spray still, you can taste his come. You’re still a little congested with it, your lips rubbed raw.
“Good girl,” he calls, as you unlock your front door, your back to him.
Your head whips toward him and he disappears into his car, the engine coming to life as you slip inside, heart pounding, the image of his glistening fingers still fresh in your mind.
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sheluvv-gambino · 1 year
Text
“Huh, you sound British.”
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pairings : e-42 miles morales x black fem!reader
summary : Being a new student is already hard, just imagine being British in high school within Brooklyn.
warnings : I put a slash between the difference of American and British words so no one is confused since I’m not actually American myself.
part 2
Switching from an English secondary school to an American high school was not something that you could say you were actually excited for.
But yet here you are sitting in your mothers car listening to ‘Bonfire’ by Childish Gambino, trying not stress over being in a totally new environment.
“Okay, we’ve arrived.” Your mum/mom said rubbing the back of your shoulder.
“I’m gonna go now, I love you.” You sigh.
“I love you too but get your arse out this car so your not late please!”
You laugh whilst unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out of the car walking towards the entrance.
Once you enter your immediately overwhelmed with the amount of loud new accents filtering the air. I mean sure you had been in New York for a few days before being introduced to the school but that doesn’t mean you were used to the variety of accents.
Making your way towards the principals office you ended up lost and having to scout the help of one your new peers.
Looking to your left you spot a fairly handsome guy with two cainrows/cornrows going down his neck, sharp jaw, and very plumed lips.
Damn, guess NYC ain’t that bad after all.
Tapping his shoulder you timidly ask “Sorry to disturb you but do you think your could show me to the principals office.”
He looked you up and down for a good thirty seconds before his focus finally set on your face.
“Huh, you sound British.”
“I mean I am from London.” You deadpan.
“Sure I’ll take you, c’mon.”
He takes off swiftly leaving you trailing behind him.
Once you finally reach the principals office
he stops and looks you dead in the eye tilting his head which ultimately makes you cast your gaze down to the floor.
“I’m Miles but I never caught your name.”
You look up and end up locking eyes.
“I’m Y/N” You smile downward.
“We’ll Y/N ion know much about British people but I hope we can get to know each other a bit more…”
And with that he walked away leaving you at the door of the principal.
Now all you have to is KNOCK.
————————
Getting halfway through the day was particularly easy except from the bombardment of questions from people you don’t even know.
Asking things about Britain like you were the Queen (R.I.P Queen Lizzy) It was like they had never heard of Google before.
Fortunately a group of girls adopted you into their circle and you were currently sitting with them at lunch.
“So how’s your day been except y’know all the weird questions?” One girl asks with a chuckle.
“We’ll it’s been a bit annoying relearning the stuff I’ve already done which by the way don’t you think it’s a bit weird that you guys do algebra for like a whole year. In England once we finish a topic we move onto the next.” You ramble with a sigh.
“Eh I mean I guess but it’s not anything new for us. Anyways since being here, have you caught your eye on anyone yet?” Another girl answers and questions.
“We’ll there was this one guy but I haven’t spotted him again since he dropped me off at the Principal’s.”
Some girls squeal in excitement at a new potential crush to gossip about.
“He was quite fit actually and he had these two braids going down. He gave a really good conversation on the way their actually.” You finish off going back to your food nonchalantly.
There must be a shift in the air because the table of girls stopped talking until someone pipes up.
“Your not talking ‘bout Miles Morales are you?!” She squeaks with widened eyes.
“We’ll yeah he said his name was Miles but he didn’t give his surname/lastname.”You start to nod.
“No way! Girls have been trying to get with him ever since we got to the school but he’s always cold and quiet around people who aren’t his friends. Girl you are so lucky.” She blurts out.
“We’ll I’m sure he was just being nice, I mean I am new.” You defend.
And with that Miles Morales walks past your table trailing behind his friends he gives a smirk and waves towards you.
Yeah, I guess you are lucky…very lucky!
409 notes · View notes
msbigredmachine · 5 months
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New To This - Chapter 5
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MASTERLIST
“Sup, trick,” a soft voice chuckled next to Delilah, and she turned to see Tiwa, her co-worker at the supermarket, presenting her a can of Mountain Dew and a bowl of jollof rice and stewed chicken as she joined her to sit on the staircase outside on their lunch break. “Want some?”
Delilah grimaced and bit into her carrot stick for emphasis. “You know I can’t have that. I’m workin’ out and shit.”
“Oh yeah, I keep forgetting about your wrestling. Shoulda brought you a salad or somethin’,” Tiwa joked, causing Delilah to roll her eyes good-naturedly. The two women had known each other since high school and had run in different social circles back then, but working together for the past four years had closed that gap between them.
“So, how’s wedding planning going? You still got time for that with your wrestling and all?” Tiwa asked as she threw her braids behind her shoulder.
“It’s going,” Delilah shrugged, staring out into the empty backlot of the supermarket. “My Mama’s making sure it’s going, anyway. We’ve put a deposit on the reception hall, but haven’t decided on the catering. I haven’t even thought about a dress yet. Luckily I got my mom’s wedding dress to fall back on if everything else goes to shit.”
“You sound bored outta your fuckin’ mind,” Tiwa pointed out, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve never heard any woman sound this uninterested about planning her own wedding.”
“It’s not boredom. I’m just…tired,” Delilah insisted, shuffling her feet on the step she sat on. “Training and working two jobs hasn’t given me much time to think of anything else.”
“What about your man? Is he going to Panama City with you for the show? I mean, that’s gotta be exciting, right?”
“For me? Absolutely,” she responded, turning her face toward the sun. “The networking opportunities are beyond my wildest dreams. For him? Not really. He’s never been a wrestling fan. And he still thinks I’m outta my mind,” she added with a roll of her eyes. In reality, she knew that half the town thought the same way, but she never let it deter her. What she wanted to do with her life was no one’s fucking business.
Tiwa nodded in what seemed like understanding and chewed her food slowly. “That bad, huh?”
“Yeah, that bad. He’s not cooperating at all.” Delilah huffed, feeling her blood begin to boil already. “First off, he refused to come to my first match. My very first match! He bitches about my training schedule all the fuckin’ time now. What is scaring him so much?”
“Gee, where do I start?” Tiwa snorted.
Delilah looked back at her co-worker, startled by her response. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Come on, girl. Look at it. Y’all supposed to be getting married soon and then your wrestling picks up. I saw your match on YouTube and it’s already at like a hundred thousand views. That’s a fuckin’ big deal, ya know? Not to mention you’re spending time with that steaming hot Jey guy that just might end up being your co-worker. And from all the buzz you’re getting, it’s only gonna be a matter of time before that happens. That’s gotta make Andre uncomfortable.”
She didn’t know her match had made it onto YouTube, but she would get back to that later. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am. And I’m happy for you. This town is boring as fuck. Someone needs to get outta this dump and do something interesting with their lives.” Tiwa took a swig of her Mountain Dew. “So back to you and this Jey dude. He seems to be giving you a lot of attention.”
“Y’all making it sound like me and him are seeing each other every day or somethin’,” said Delilah, her tone a little gruffer than she wanted. “That ain’t the case. Jey’s been like a second coach, like Tank. I want to make it to the big time, and if Jey can help me get there, I’ll take it.”
“You sure he hasn’t hinted at something more? Like, you know…”
Delilah shook her head. “Nope. We only talk about wrestling, that’s it. He’s been very professional.”
“Or he’s just waiting to get you alone,” Tiwa cut in. “Maybe that’s why he invited you to Panama City.”
“He invited both Dre and me. I won’t be alone. Tank’s coming along with me since Dre can’t make it.” She wasn’t sure what Tiwa was trying to insinuate, and though she didn’t like it, she tried not to show it. “Girl you trippin’. Relax. I’m getting married to the man I love. Jey’s already married, I think.”
“You think?” Tiwa repeated, and only then did it dawn on Delilah that she’d never seen a ring on his finger. Still… “He knows better and so do I. I got only one goal in mind, and that’s all I care about.” It had been two weeks since her first match, and she was just getting started with building a reputation for herself within the independent circuit. She was working hard and earning every bit of respect she was gaining, and she really didn’t want to throw all of that away.
“Okay,” said Tiwa. “I’m just looking out for you, girl. Do you, and make sure you’re happy while you’re doing it.”
“I know.” Delilah smiled and looked at her watch. Their break was almost over. “You coulda come with me to Panama City too, ya know.”
“Ha, if I do, who’s gonna cover your shift?” Tiwa said, getting to her feet. “Besides…I got a date on Monday night.”
“Oh. So you’ve finally gotten over your crush on Tank, then?” Delilah smirked as they walked back into the supermarket.
Tiwa gasped and avoided her friend’s teasing stare. “How many times am I gonna tell you, Parrish, it ain’t like that with Tank! It never was.”
“And yet, you’re blushing.”
“…..Bitch, bye.”
—------------------
From her place on the ring apron, Delilah watched in complete awe as Liv Morgan and Becky Lynch practiced in the ring for their match, still a good three hours before Monday Night Raw was set to air. The women were opening the show tonight, and she was very excited to see how it all played out. But watching them rehearse was so much better than anything she could have imagined.
The only thing that would have made her day better was Andre being with her. Of course, they had argued about the trip, in which Tank had tried to step in. He was being completely asinine and paranoid. She would never have stopped him if he had the chance to meet LeBron James or Patrick Mahomes, his favorite athletes. This was a once in a lifetime chance for her, and she really couldn’t understand why he was taking all of this so poorly.
“Now that’s a finisher right there,” Tank interrupted her thoughts as Liv Morgan hit Becky backwards in her signature Oblivion to get the pinfall.
Delilah turned back to look up at the huge Titantron as Liv’s theme song rang out in victory. “This is so cool,” she whispered. How amazing would it be to see her own name in lights that bright?
“Ayyy, look who showed up, uce,” a familiar deep voice sounded from the shadows behind her, and she looked over to see Josh making his way down the ramp. 
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Without thinking through it, she rushed towards him and leapt into his arms. “This is so amazing! Thank you so much, oh my god,” she squealed happily, not caring if she sounded like a total fan girl at the moment. Never did she imagine she could ever experience all she had since coming down to Panama City; the backstage access, getting to meet the amazing wrestlers she watched on TV every single week; it was sensory overload for her as a fan.
Josh laughed as her legs tightened around him, supporting the woman in his arms with her round backside in his hands. “You welcome, baby girl. You enjoyin’ yourself?”
It was then, as he set her back on her feet, that Delilah noticed how good he looked in his Nike tech fleece outfit. At the same time, Tank appeared from the corner of her eye, and she quickly took a step back from Josh. “Yes! Everyone’s been so nice. The wrestlers, the officials, it’s been awesome.”
“Good to hear. Wanna go talk to the girls?” Without waiting for an answer, Josh grabbed her by the hand and tugged her toward the ring where Becky and Liv now sat on the apron. They looked over at the approaching trio and waved. “Hey, Jey, hey Tank,” greeted Liv, her eyes skating over Delilah’s form. “Wanna introduce us to your friend?”
Sneaking behind her, Josh shoved the shy woman closer to his colleagues. “This is Delilah Parrish. She’s an indie wrestler in the Pensacola region,” he introduced.
“Oh, fellow hometown girl, huh?” Becky’s friendly nature was infectious as she extended a hand toward the new woman. “Nice to meet you, Delilah. I’m Becky.”
“Delilah. Like Samson, right?” Liv inquired. When Delilah nodded, her smile widened. “Such a cute name. I like it. You stickin’ around for the show tonight?”
“Yeah.” Delilah muttered shyly. It was the exact same tone she had taken with pretty much everyone she had met so far. It was all so overwhelming, she felt like she was in a dream.
“Ay Livvy Liv, you busy?” Josh asked. When she shook her head, he nodded toward Delilah. “How ‘bout you show our guest here how it’s done in the big leagues?”
Liv set her towel aside with a shrug. “Sure, why not?” she answered, turning her gaze to Delilah. “You up for it?”
Shocked, the trainee looked back and forth between them. “Wait, you want me to wrestle her? Right now?” 
“Now’s as good a time as any,” Josh shrugged, raising an eyebrow. “Unless you think you can’t do it.”
Offended, her eyes darkened right away. “Hell yeah, I can do it.”
He stepped closer to her, staring her right down, “Then show me,” he whispered.
Liv leapt back into the ring and backed up, beckoning for Delilah to join her. “Come on, show me what’cha got,” she challenged.
Before she knew what was happening, Delilah was locking up with Liv freaking Morgan in the middle of the ring, listening for her rushed verbal cues as they sparred like old partners. So immersed was she in the match they were constructing, Delilah didn’t notice that Josh and Tank had been joined by a few other men.
“Who’s the girl?”
Turning his head slightly, Josh took his boss’s hand in a handshake and then returned his attention to the action in the ring. “She’s one of Tank’s,” the Samoan spoke of the trainer who was now shouting instructions to his pupil from outside the ring, while Becky cheered on Liv on the other side.
Triple H watched with a critical eye as the new woman launched herself off of the ropes and knocked Liv to the mat with an impressive, albeit stiff clothesline. “She’s unpolished,” he deduced.
Josh shrugged. “She’ll get better,” he assured the older man. “Her very first match was just two weeks ago and she killed that shit, man. Two hundred thousand views on YouTube already,” he added, a hint of admiration creeping into his voice.
“I see.” The multi-time World Champion nodded his head, his gaze still fixed on the story the women were trying to tell in the ring.
As Liv wedged her horizontally between the ropes by the turnbuckle, Delilah glanced to her left, her heart nearly jumping into her throat when she saw Triple H of all people, watching intently a few feet away, as though waiting for her to do something special. She was so distracted that she didn’t hear Liv’s reminder to brace herself for the impact of her double-knee attack. Liv’s knees and shins colliding with her sternum knocked the air right out of her, causing her to collapse hard in the corner, limbs twisting everywhere as she hit the canvas.
“Shit, I’m sorry!” Liv screeched, as Delilah rolled to her side and slowly made her way to her knees with a moan. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It was my fault,” she puffed, taking the other woman’s extended hand to pull her up.
“Yeah, Triple H has that kind of effect,” Liv said, winking at her. “I was the exact same way the first time I saw him.”
Risking another glance at the base of the ramp, Delilah breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that Hunter had left them alone, but dread quickly filled her insides as she wondered what he’d thought of her performance.
“What the hell was that?” Josh’s laughing voice interrupted the ladies’ conversation. Delilah blushed wildly and ducked under the bottom rope. “I panicked,” she admitted softly. “So tell me the truth,” she said. “How bad did I fuck up my only chance to impress that man?”
Josh helped her out of the ring and set her down on her feet. “You tried. Let’s just leave it at that.” Her nervous expression caused him to wrap an arm around her waist for a quick hug. “But ay, you went for it, and Hunter appreciates that,” he whispered.
The feel of his breath on her ear sent shivers down Delilah’s spine. She shook it off quickly, deciding that she was still being a fangirl, that it was just his breathtaking presence that still affected her. She would have felt the exact same way if it had been Andre holding her like this.
Mistaking her inner turmoil for something else, Tank nudged her from her other side. “You did good, kid. I could tell Hunter liked it,” he said.
The uncharacteristic compliment from her usually no-nonsense teacher caused Delilah to blush, but before she could respond, a stage hand called for Tank to follow him up the ramp, leaving her all alone with Josh. She felt very self-conscious as she walked next to him towards the backstage area.
Somewhere along the way, Josh had invaded Delilah’s thoughts and fantasies on more than a few occasions. Never, since getting with Andre, had she ever thought about another man while making love to her fiancé, until lately. She wanted to blame it on seeing him every week on TV, recalling his deep, seductive voice on the phone, all of which left her imagining things she never dreamed of. Yeah, he seemed to be a bit touchy feely, but he had never made an outright pass at her, and had done nothing beyond a few flirty words and gestures. Maybe she was overthinking it too much and just needed to relax.
Josh looked down at her, trying not to stare into her tank top from his considerable vantage point. She was engaged to be married, but he couldn’t seem able to tell himself that it meant she was off limits. He was drawn to how unaware she was of her beauty and her sexiness, and it made her that much more attractive in his eyes. “You quiet. What’s on your mind?” he asked her, forcing himself out of his wayward thoughts.
Delilah followed him into a huge locker room. “Just thinkin’ about how surreal all of this is. It’s one thing to see it on TV. It’s a whole ‘nother thing to see it all up close…” she trailed off, shaking her head in awe.
Grabbing two bottles of water, Josh directed her to a table and sat across from her, opening her bottle before sliding it to her. “Yeah. Wait until you become an actual employee.”
Scoffing, she drank from the bottle and leaned back in her chair. “Right. Like that’s gonna happen.”
“What makes you think that?”
With a sigh, she looked around the empty room. “I don’t know. For all intents and purposes, I’m still a rookie,” she reasoned. “I got so much more to learn. I don’t even look like the typical WWE Superstar. My hair’s too damn big and curly. I haven’t put on enough muscle yet.” Casting a glance over her own body, she sighed again. “And I’m gonna need implants, which I definitely can’t afford,” she added.
Josh looked her over, zeroing in on her chest. After seeing her in her wrestling outfit a couple of weeks ago, he was convinced there was nothing wrong with her hot body. “You don’t need no implants,” he assured her.
Shock washed over Delilah at his blatant assessment. “Okay, um, so where else are we going after this?” she asked nervously, hoping to break the suffocating tension building between them.
“Whatchu doin’, Delilah?” Josh ignored her question, watching her brush her hair out of her face for the hundredth time, the glint of the rock on her engagement ring seemingly taunting him every time she did so. “What exactly are you puttin’ in all the hours training and wrestling for? To achieve your dream? Or to get away from your fiancé?”
Recoiling a little, Delilah narrowed her eyes at what he had asked. Why was he being so intrusive? “Dude…” she stammered, her defenses going right up. "I’m not…I’m not sure how that’s any of your business.”
“Baby girl, this business is everything to me,” Josh said to her, his tone strangely serious. “It’s my whole life. And I get a kick out of seeing other people who love it too and get immersed in it for all the right reasons.” Shaking his head, he crossed his massive arms over his broad chest. “I need to know which side you’re on, so I’ll know whether I’m wasting my time with you or not.”
“Wasting your time? What the fuck…I never asked for your attention, Josh!” she shot defensively, staggered by this sudden change to their conversation. "To be honest, I don’t even know why you are showing any interest in me.” Behind her, she heard the door open, and she forced herself to lower her voice, even though she was seething at his audacity. “Maybe I should ask you. What’s in this for you, huh? Why me? There are a million other new wrestlers that you could be focusing on.“
Shrugging a shoulder in agreement, Josh leaned back in his chair and let his dark gaze scan her from head to toe. "Maybe,” he conceded, a smirk playing on his lips. “But it’s not them I wanna fuck.”
The words struck her like a blow to the gut. Did she hear him right? Was he suggesting that he wanted to sleep with her? That he was as attracted to her as she was to him? Did he fantasize about her too? Did he forget she was engaged? Wasn’t he married? How could he make such an open confession?
Before she could say something, the room began to fill up with members of the Raw roster, Josh stood up and gestured for her to do the same. “Come on. Let’s go find Tank,”  he said to her.
--------------
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97keanu · 4 months
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The Beast You’ve Made Of Me.
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Premise: After moving to the town of San Dimas in 1990, you figured it was nothing more but a small town filled with like minded drama. You’ve been uprooted mid senior year because of your “behavioral problems”, as your mother would put it, and it hasn’t been easy fitting in. Lucky you, you find the one person there you can really trust, your sweet and loving boyfriend Ted. It’s the night of a big party out in the woods, one last hurrah before the end of your senior year, and you debut you and Ted as a couple. The drama from that gossip turns out to be the least of your worries when your boyfriend is dragged away mid smoke sesh by something from the woods. When he reappears later, distant, and uninterested in seeing you, you begin to wonder what’s really going on. You soon learn that the town of San Dimas, California is hiding more secrets than you thought.
One thing you know for sure, you have to be careful when the moon is full…
CW/Tags: Hurt, Angst, Ted/Evil!Ted/This is kind of a Jekyll and Hyde situation, Werewolf AU, stoner!ted + reader, cheerleader!reader, eventual smut, slowish burn, clueless!reader, sweet but sad!reader, longing, outcast!reader, small town gossip/drama, revenge flirting, angry/needy, p in v, knotting, dubcon, drunk!reader, biting, tasting blood, size kink, aftercare?, cuddling, slight mentions of breeding, cute ending/happy ending/comfort ending.
Words: 8.3k
꒰˵ˊPlaylistˋ˵꒱
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“Isn't it supposed to rain tonight?” You overhear one of the other party goers say shyly as pewter clouds churn overhead.
“Yeah, but it ain’t raining yet!” One of the ‘future-frat-boy’ seniors belts out followed by the howls of his pack, otherwise known as the San Dimas football team.
“Well, you know what they say about being out on a full moon…” One of the popular girls complains in a whiny tone, allowing an in for the jocks to make fun of her which for all they know could be flirting.
“Ohhh, someone's scared of the big bad wolf?” They tease while mimicking wolfish noises loudly.
Despite the stars being blocked out by threatening storm clouds, the full moon rules bright between tuffs of gray, an amber ring echoing around it. You watch it, perplexed by its color, not watching your step as you hike towards the lodge. Your white converse hits an uncovered mossy root and for a second you think you will already start to embarrass yourself for the night by falling in front of everyone.
Then, a gentle hand helps to steady your elbow, the other resting on your lower back, your tight, cream crop top exposing the skin there.
“Hey, easy now…” You hear the soft tones of your boyfriend's voice whisper to you.
You turn towards him, a small smile pulling at the corners of your glossy lips as you look into his comforting brown eyes. He returns the smile and gives your cheek a gentle peck.
You and Ted haven’t been dating long, you didn’t have the chance to.
After everything that happened at your last school, your mother thought best to pull you out in the middle of your senior year and plant you here in San Dimas, California.
It was different from what you were used to, and in other ways all the same. The clique-y drama, rumors that somehow snowball out of control, and your mother’s expectations of you being the perfect preppy daughter, her highschool mini me. Only problem was the move and your reputation nullified any chance at being prom queen, valedictorian, or dating the quarterback. Hey, at least you managed to make the cheerleading squad and your grades up. That seemed to keep her off your back for the most part.
Sure, your mother still doesn’t know you are dating one of the San Dimas High School’s resident stoners, but she wouldn’t understand anyways. Ted was an escape from the prim and proper world of suburbia, someone who liked to have fun and be himself, not to mention completely head over heels for you. It felt good to be loved, felt good to have a home in him.
You watch as fairy lights cast a glow behind him, almost throwing a little halo in his dark brown hair. You feign confidence as members of the SDHS’s student body watch you walk in with Ted, a few whispers already happening behind red solo cups. As you two go through the cabin to the back yard, you can tell Ted notices your tension rise, and his thumb creates comforting circles on your skin.
“Say the word, and we’ll go.” His voice says low and slow in your ear, breath tickling you there.
You give a small head shake, and Ted nods, keeping on as if he has no worries. The happy-go-lucky energy he gives off calms you. You lean into him, sweeping your long ponytail away from your neck.
Up until now, Ted Logan had mainly been a secret you kept all to yourself, but the prying eyes around you could never make you doubt how good of a boyfriend he was. You were too in love not to be confident about that.
______
The bonfire that the football team constructed was actually quite impressive, you had to give them credit there since manual labor was their forte. You snuggle into Ted’s orange jacket that he’s wrapped around you, inhaling the scent of cheap body spray and marijuana. The warmth of the fire prickles your cheeks as Ted strategically toasts a marshmallow beside you. Your chin finds a home on his shoulder, relaxing into his body.
The chatter of the rest of the party drones on with bursts of laughter cutting up the monotones. You know that this isn’t the usual crowd for Ted, but he seems at home as ever, whispering little jokes to you as he enjoys the night despite cross looks from others. You’re sure there will be more talk on Monday about how you don’t deserve to be on the cheer squad if you’re going to be hanging out with burnouts and stoners like Ted Logan, but that doesn't matter. It was only a week before the end of the year, and then you’d be free of highschool forever. Tonight, you were going to enjoy being a senior with your boyfriend without shame.
”Hey,” Ted leans into you, holding out a perfectly brown marshmallow and gently popping it in your mouth when you open it. “Do you wanna go smoke? There’s a little dock to the lake that I know…”
He looks at you with a shy half-smile, and despite the fact that he knows you like getting high just as much as him, he still acts nervous to ask one of the cheerleaders to do something so improper. You nod, mouth full of sweet marshmallow fluff, and let him help you stand up. No one really notices when the two of you slip away from the beacon of light and into the dark forest full of summer greens.
Ted guides you, the trail a bit hard to see in the dark, but not impossible.
“It’s not too far away from here,” You hear him say beside you, as well as the other night noises of the forest humming along.
You let him take your hand into his warm one, an arm wrapped around the small of your waist to keep you safe from almost falling once more. You don’t know what it is about Ted, but you just trust him. Like, completely, utterly trust him despite only knowing him for a few months. He’s not like the other boys at school, who you have to watch your drink with, have to be careful of ending up alone with. No, Ted really only has your best interest in mind, and you feel safe with him right now.
That’s why when you hear a low howl off in the distance you cling into his body, freezing up for a moment.
“What was that?” You say, trying not to let the tinge of panic rise in your voice.
“Probably just a coyote,” Ted starts to explain, his voice soft and soothing.
“It sounded like a wolf…” You whisper as another howl responds to the first.
“Wolves aren’t usually out this way,” Ted reassures with a small laugh. “And we’re only a five minute walk away from everyone else. Three if we run.”
“Do we have to run?” You try to look up at his face, but the moonlight is concealed by the clouds at the moment, so all you see is shadows.
“No, no,” He backpedaled. “We’re going to be fine, babe. Just the sounds of the forest, is all.”
You feel his hand gently rubbing your back, and the motion calms you down. You take a deep breath, and let him keep walking you forward. Soon enough, you walk through a clearing, and the world seems to open up once more from the claustrophobia of the forest.
The lake ebbs and flows, making splashing noises against the dark rocks on its coast. You can barely tell what’s in there, the water a deep color of black, small sparklings shining off as the moon begins to find its way out once more.
Your shoes knock against the wood of the docks, creaking as you make your way down, eyes starting to get used to the dark. You take a seat at the end letting your legs dangle off the edge. You settle in, slipping your converse and socks off, your feet dipping into the cool water. Your previous fear in the forest starts to settle down as you listen to the calming waters.
Ted gently opens his jacket that you’re still wearing, and pulls a joint and a lighter from the inner pocket, giving you a kiss after as if he’s thankful that you let him grab it. You watch as his face lights up from the small orange glow of the lighter, the joint hanging lazily out of the corner of his mouth. For a second, you feel a blush coming up to your cheeks as you appreciate how adorable he looks.
He takes a deep inhale of the joint, holding it in for a second, then coming closer. You know what he wants to do, and welcome his soft, full lips onto yours. He parts your lips slowly, letting you feel the smoke from his lungs exhale into yours, tendrils of smoke floating up from the spaces your lips didn’t fully close around. You let his air fill your lungs, then deepen the kiss while trying not to let any spill out. Finally, you must pull away, breathing out once more and feeling heat in more than just your cheeks.
This little ritual of yours continues until you hear something rustling in the brush behind you. Your eyes feel warm and heavy, and you slowly turn your attention towards the sound, the dark of the night keeping whatever’s there hidden.
“Did you hear that?” You say without turning towards Ted.
“Hear what?” Ted’s voice is soft and lazy.
You say nothing, trying to force your ears to hear something within the hum of the night. The feeling of the hair on the back of your neck raises, a sense of being watched beginning to flood your body.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
“I think someone’s out there…” You try to speak as quietly as possible.
“Probably someone else from the party trying to find somewhere quiet.” Ted whispers back, then calls out towards the noise. “Hey! Spot already taken, find a new one, dudes!”
You know your boyfriend isn’t trying to be dismissive, not trying to make the fear in you rise, but you find yourself trying to hush him anyways. He stands from the edge of the dock, and you find yourself pulling your feet from the lake, water dripping onto the wood.
A low growl escapes the tree line.
“Ted, I don’t think that’s another student.” Your hands are already clutching his forearm, and with another snarl from the darkness, you feel Ted take a step back.
Both of you are wordless, unmoving as a pair of yellow eyes glint in the moonlight from the overgrown brush.
“Ted…” You don’t know what he could even do, but he was your only solace now as the blood in your body beats harder.
Those yellow eyes flick towards you, the sound of your voice and the tremble in your legs already sorting you out as the weaker one. Ted’s arm pulls over your chest protectively, and feel his body brace.
“Can you swim?” His never serious tone has flipped on its head.
“Y-yes.” Is all you can say, fear taking hold in your legs, freezing them to the spot.
You don’t have much time to think as something your eyes can’t even comprehend stalks from the forest towards you. It had the face of a wolf, muzzle too long, teeth too sharp, body too human. Its teeth are bared and ready, hands ending in dark, thick claws. In the split second before its legs are ready to pounce, you feel Ted’s arm push against your chest.
In one moment, you’re frozen to your spot, fear pulsing through you as this creature breaks out in a run, eyes set on you. In the next, the cold, dark lake is taking the breath from your lungs and you watch helplessly as Ted intervenes the wolf from chasing after you. Just as you sink under the blanket of water around you, those sharp, white teeth are glinting in the moonlight and sinking into the shoulder of your boyfriend. Your lovely, sweet, kind boyfriend.
Water fills your mouth, preventing the scream from escaping.
You don’t even want to resurface, don’t even want to fight, but you know you must. Your muscles tense with strength you don’t want to give, arms wildly clutching for support you can’t find. You break through the water with a gasp, choking out the disgusting, earthy taste of the lake from your throat. Your eyes try to find your boyfriend in the darkness, your ears already hear his screaming being dragged farther and farther away from you, snarls interjecting until you hear nothing.
The moon shines down on you, a silent watcher to the night events. The sound of the water slapping against the dock and the cicadas calling out is all you can make out. The horror filling inside you has no escape, nowhere to go, falling deeper and deeper into the pit of your stomach. You float aimlessly, and when you find yourself on shaking legs, gingerly stepping out of the water, you can’t even remember how you got there.
When you stumble back towards the noise of the party, the warm light of the bonfire, no one even notices at first as you make your way there. Your arms held tight around each other, Ted’s orange jacket cold and stuck to your wet skin. Your short, flowy skirt is now suctioned against your bare thighs, and your ponytail drips down your back. You don’t even notice Ted’s blood mixing with lake water on your legs. An arm on your shoulder stops your shuttering walk, and you turn to see the concerned faces of the rest of the party.
“What happened?” One of them asks, concern genuine.
“Oh my god, is that blood?” Someone recoils from the sight.
“You’re soaking wet, where were you?” Along with other hushed inquiries.
You try to speak, but your lip just quivers without answers. The world seems too bright and big by the fire, too many faces in the sea of people beginning to huddle around you, and you doubt even half of them care about you for more than just the gossip. You recoil from hands that are seemingly forever trying to guide you somewhere.
“It…got him.” Is all you could muster as you’ve somehow found yourself sat in the dirt by the fire.
Silence follows after you speak, then hushed tones create a simmering symphony in the small crowd.
“Who? That-that…” they try to remember who you came to the party with, but you know this crowd never even cared to learn Ted’s name. “That boy you were with?”
You don’t get time to answer as a scream breaks out from the edge of the crowd.
“It’s him!” You hear a few people call.
The crowd thins out to look at what new, shiny piece of gossip for Monday they can find, and that’s when you see him.
Ted.
Your loving, wonderful boyfriend, stumbling in from the tree line. You stand, dry dirt caked on your legs, creating stains you’ll never be able to explain to your mom. You don’t even know what to do at first, you watch, feeling as if you’re looking at a ghost. You were so sure he was gone. Tears prick your red eyes, and soon enough they’re falling down your face as you’re running to him.
You see the weariness in Ted’s tired, dark eyes, his mop of brown hair haphazardly in his face, and he leans into you for support when you reach him. You can see the rips in his shirt, see the blood looking black as night, so you reach up a worried hand to apply pressure to his shoulder. All you feel is smooth, tan skin under your fingertips.
“Ted?” Worry furrows your brow.
“I’m alright,” his breath seems heavy, skin sweaty to the touch.
He looks up and sees the crowd, and to your surprise you see his teeth bared, from pain or something else, you don’t know. Then he speaks, low, almost growling, to you.
“Let’s get out of here.”
–-----
You expect the last Monday before summer to be a buzz with rumors of Friday night, that when you walk into school there will be looks, questions, people who can't even begin to understand what really happened out there. As you pass the threshold into the hot halls of San Dimas High, it's as if people are recoiling from you.
Lockers are shut, whispers halt mid sentence, and no one wants to look you in the eye. You feel completely outcast from even pretending to be normal.
What's worse, you haven't heard from Ted since you dropped him off at his house. You haven’t even returned his rusty old van, and he loves that van. You called his line a million times, and no one picked up, not even his dad to tell you to stop calling so much. Helpless doesn't even begin to describe how you feel.
You know how he looked when you dropped him off. Sweat dripping from his hair, his body hot to the touch, hotter than you thought possible. He would try to suppress groans as he directed you to his house, yet insisted on not taking him to the hospital. He stumbled into his door, slamming it behind him before you could even push your way in. You stood there, hair still wet, the cicadas singing a sad chorus to how pitiful you felt.
That was the last time you saw him.
Now, on Monday, as you approach the locker you traded with someone to be closer to his, you half expect him to be there, goofy grin and all making your morning better. Of course, there his locker was, plastered in band stickers and graffiti and…lonely. You hold Ted’s orange jacket closer to you, not having taken it off since Friday. You know how it must look, but you need it. Need to feel like he’s here with you, smell his cheap cologne on the collar, fiddle with the old bic lighter in the pocket.
You feel all eyes on you as you put your things away, but no one says a word. You feel as if you may burst into tears right there from the stress of it all when the bell rings, making you jump. Everyone knows you’re on edge now.
Classes go on, and the silence gets less and less. By lunch, hushed rumors are stirring as you try to find somewhere to sit in peace. You consider taking your tray of unappealing slop to the cheerleaders table, but of course, your typical spot is taken by someone else, signaling that you’re unwelcome. You find half of a table to sit at, and try to make it seem like you're busy by pushing around your food and gingerly biting into a red apple. It tastes like mush.
“I don’t think we'll see him before the end of school.”
“My dad says this happens every few years…”
“Yeah! Mine said his cousin went out on a full moon when they were kids and never came back…”
“Well, I guess the San Dimas curse strikes again.”
“You don't really believe that do you?”
“Either way, that guy’s probably dead.”
“Not that big of a loss, he was a burn out anyways.”
You're standing before you know it, sick of listening to everyone speculate on the person you love most, the only person here who ever cared to get to know who you really were underneath it all. Your tray is promptly dumped and the cafeteria goes hush as you walk with tears falling down your cheeks. You burst through the large, metal doors, and your sneakers squeak as they take you away.
Soon enough, you’re ditching. You know it’s more than possible that your mother will hear about this, and of course, berate you for old habits. If you’re lucky, maybe they won’t care at the end of the year. Either way, you have to know, have to find the answers that kept you from finding a wink of sleep these past 48 hours. You burst out of the school into the hot, humid air outside. Everything smells thick after the rain of the weekend, petrichor and musky. You don’t even have a car, you just let your feet beat on the hot pavement towards Ted’s house.
You two have walked back to his place countless times since you moved here, especially since you could never take him back to your house. The world is a blur of neighborhoods and mid-afternoon traffic. You don’t stop until your hand is raised at Ted’s door, ready to pound, but before you can even lay a knuckle there, the door opens, just a slice.
“Ted?” You whisper, knowing his dad is at work now, and his little brother in school.
A moment passes without a word from the otherside of the door. Maybe his dad is home, maybe something bad really did happen. You hope more than anything it’s him.
”I can’t come out.” You hear his voice, raspy and low, and for a moment you don’t think it’s really him.
“What?” You ask puzzled, moving your head to try to get a better look inside the small sliver of door that’s open. “What do you mean? Are you okay?”
“I’m not feeling well. I don’t want to…” He pauses for a long moment. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Hurt me? What the hell does he mean by that?
“Ted, you won’t hurt me, I don’t care if you’re sick, I just wanna make sure you’re okay!” You begin to ramble, anything that keeps him talking, and potentially lets you see him.
“Go home, babe.” You can tell it kills him to say it, his voice choking up, those three words getting caught in his throat.
“I’m not going home until you tell me what’s going on, Ted Logan!” You stomp your foot without even thinking, folding your arms across your chest.
Ted says nothing. In fact, he does the single most heartbreaking thing you can think of.
He closes the door.
“Ted!” You yell, you pound on the door.
There is no response.
No matter how much you call for him, he ignores you, so you say the only thing you can think that might get to him.
“Ted, you open this door right this minute or we are OVER!”
The door swings open.
Ted, standing there in only his sweatpants, dark circles under his eyes, looking more tired than you could imagine a 18 year old boy could look. His hair is damp, plastered to his forehead as if feverish. His breath is heaving. He looks nothing like your sweet, gentle boyfriend you’ve come to know and love.
“I said,” He speaks to you in a tone he’s never done before, half begging, half demanding. “Leave…”
You stand there, confused, mouth open, unsure what to say, but not moving.
“Leave!” He snarls again, louder, hand hitting the doorframe loudly, making you flinch.
As cruel as his voice is being with you right now, his eyes say something different. He looks as if it’s all he can do to get you away from him, truly believing it for your own good.
You begin to speak, and Ted turns rapidly, slamming the front door with all his might, house seeming to shake from the impact.
That was it.
That was all you could do. Come here, try to help him, but if he wanted you away, then he got it.
You turn, walking down the sidewalk with your arms around yourself, shame and embarrassment and heartbreak heating your face and ears. You suppose you’ve lost your boyfriend after that, and over god knows what. You don’t understand what’s happening at all. You thought you did everything a good girlfriend would, but maybe you made a mistake. And even if you did, could you two not talk about it? You let out a half sob as the pain in your heart tenses up, holding your breath to try to keep it in until you can safely let it all out.
Tears of hurt and anger slip down your face. Frustrated, you make your way home.
That was the last time you saw Ted Logan, for a while, at least.
————
The end of your senior year came and went. The talk died down, and just like predicted, Ted never returned to school for his final days. You knew he was alive, at the very least, but nothing else.
Graduation took place on a Saturday, a week or so after the last day. Everyone else cheered, watched as the schools wolf mascot was finally revealed to be some half popular nerd, the valedictorian gave a speech about how the best days of our lives were yet to come, threw their caps in the air when it was all said and done.
You sat, holding your diploma and hat, finger tracing the square edge while thinking about how Ted was supposed to be here. You two worked so hard to get his grades up so he could pass and his dad wouldn’t send him away to Alaska for military school. Maybe he really went through with that threat, for all you knew.
Either way, it had been a month since you had seen Ted Logan.
A month of lonely nights, your hidden stash of weed getting smaller and smaller as you self medicate in your room, and still you think of him. You blow smoke out the window at night, sometimes thinking you heard the sounds of rustling leaves out there, then dismissing it.
Who would want to stalk around your suburban home anyways?
————
You soon got tired of being holed up in the house all summer, and find it surprisingly easy to call up some of your old school friends to see what everyone else has been up to. You thought after everything that went down last time, you would be a social outcast. Turns out, they were more than willingly to invite you, some even more than vocal about wondering where you’d been. You know they have no real care for your wellbeing, but decide to go to one of the jocks upcoming parties.
And that’s how you find yourself anxious to see anyone other than your mother on a Friday night. You curl the ends of your high ponytail so the curls bounce at the nape of your neck, blow drying a mess of bangs in the front until they look pristine. A baby blue mini dress and some pumps later, and you’re feeling a bit more like yourself for the first time in a while. You finish everything off with a bow on your hair tie the color of marshmallows.
Soon enough, you’re driving to the outskirts of San Dimas, letting the A/C keep you cool on this June night. Some farm boy jock was hosting a barn party way out here, and you knew it was probably stupid to come. Best case, everyone feels to awkward to interact with you, worst case, they ask you questions incessantly about Ted’s disappearance and the last outing you were at.
Still, somehow, you tell yourself, this is better than Friday night alone watching reruns on the family T.V.
The moon is almost full, an orange hue clear and bright in the sky, it’s light guiding you to your destination.
It is easier than you thought to find your way there, despite not knowing the area. A few wrong turns and a right, and you’re pulling into the grass front lawn with 20 other cars or so. The barn is already lit up, spilling light and sound from inside. You open your door, struck with the heat of the night, already feeling your makeup begin to melt into your skin. Heels weren’t the best idea for the terrain, but at least you looked hot.
You pass a few straggling people hanging on the front porch of the old farm house, and one calls you over.
“Hey!” You see a few semi familiar faces, but hardly know them other than going to school together for the last few months.
They seem to know you though, so you walk up the groaning old wooden steps, and smile. Before you can even speak, one of the girls interrupts, as if she would explode if she didn’t say it.
“So, you like, have no idea about the San Dimas curse, huh?”
”Come on, Jenny, don’t get into that.” Her presumed boyfriend groans, and ‘Jenny’ keeps going.
“No, but for real, like you’re new so you wouldn’t know right?” You can see she’s dying to tell you more, so you simply shake you head.
“Curse? What curse?” You try to say casually, your interest piqued, but not wanting to show it.
“Oh here we go…!” Another girl groans, then reaches into a cooler next to her, handing you a can of beer. “Here, you’ll need this to get through this one.”
Everyone laughs before Jenny gets their attention back.
“Hey! Hey! She’s the newbie, so she deserves to know, especially after everything that happened…” As she trails, everyone looks to see your reaction, but you’re looking down at the condensation on the cold can.
“Alright, well, I’m all ears.” You shrug, looking back up, meeting their eyes.
“So,” Jenny turns serious. “San Dimas has this, like, ‘curse’, right? I mean, we don’t really know what else to call it, but that seems right enough.”
“Anyways, every ten years or so, someone goes missing. Not that unusual, sure, that just happens sometimes, but it seems to happen like clock work, okay?” Her blue eyes are big, like she really believes this, but the crowd still has unsure snickers of doubt. “Well, that’s not the only odd part, is it? No, because it happens whenever the moon is full-“
A jock grabs his buddy and annoyingly cuts Jenny off with a howl.
“Hush! It’s true, okay! They always go missing during the full moon. Always in the woods, always mysteriously. Not to mention, the sightings!” Jenny continues, trying to tame the crowd in her favor. “Folks say there’s something stalking out in those woods, something big, something not human. Say it’s got claws, teeth sharper than a dogs, head like a-“
“Oh yes, the werewolf sightings, told by old men who don’t even remember what they saw out there.” A few agreeable sounds follow the jocks interruption.
“Well, that’s what I’m saying! She saw it!” Jenny points to you like you’re her key to all this, her evidence that the curse is real. “You did, didn’t you? What did you see out there when that thing took your boyfriend?”
All eyes turn to you, all curious to hear, to know what you really saw. Dark flashes from that night bubble up in your mind, flashes of that beast, biting into Ted and dragging him away. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Just as you might have had an answer on the tip of your tongue, someone interrupts you.
“You don’t really believe those old stories do you?” You turn, your heart already racing at the sound of that voice.
His voice.
Ted Logan stands on the porch of the old farm house with a grin. Everyone is silent as Ted’s eyes graze across your body, practically eating you up where you stand. The yellow of the naked bulb above seeps into his dark eyes, and for a second you think there’s something wrong with them. No, must be the lights, playing tricks on your eyes. Ted watches you closely, examining your reaction.
“Besides, not much of a curse when the ‘missing person’ is right here.” Another voice joins Ted, and you notice someone with Ted.
Everyone waits to see where this will go, the social pressure to speak building up in you. Ted always knew you hated being the center of attention like this, and you watch as he smirks at your unease, almost exuding cockiness, but you can’t believe it. Your Ted Logan? He would never act in such a way…
Ted holds out a hand.
“Why don’t we speak somewhere more privately.” His voice is more serious now, tone lower.
You know you should just stay here, ignore him after everything he’s done, but you find your hand in his warm, large one, leading you away. Your heels click off the porch onto the grass as the crowd you’ve left begins to dissect what’s just happened. The man Ted arrived with follows, and you frown towards his direction.
“Who is he?” Your eyes narrow at the stranger, hair bouncing as you walk towards the back of the barn with them.
“He’s my…my…” Ted can’t seem to find the right word..
“Cousin.” The other responds, a devilish grin on his lips.
“R-right! Cousin!” Ted affirms. “This is Bill.”
Cousin? This guy was like a foot shorter than Ted, big blue eyes, and a mess of blond curls on top. They looked nothing alike, and yet, there was something…An aura of sorts, if you had to describe it. Something that seemed to link the two, either in attitudes or something else your basic senses couldn’t pick up on. Either way, you doubted more than anything they were cousins, and you were going to get to the bottom of this one way or another.
”I don’t know who you think you are showing up out of nowhere like nothing happened, Ted!” You hiss in his direction as you all round the corner of the barn, and Bill snickers at your remark.
“Relax, babe, can’t you just be happy to see me?” Ted scoffs at your attitude, making your rage grow.
You can’t help yourself, you slap him.
Your hand leaves a hot mark behind on his cheek,
“Babe? That’s what you think you’re going to call me after dropping me for a month? Let me worry about if you’re hurt, if you’re sick, if dead? No, you don’t get to call me that, Ted, that’s reserved for boyfriends who actually give a fuck to contact their girlfriends after being dragged into the woods by a damn wolf!” The anger is really welling up inside you now, but you can’t stop it, not now.
“So, no, you don’t get to call me babe after all that! As far as I’m concerned, we are not dating anymore!” You could keep going but the way Ted’s looking at you has you stopping in your tracks.
“Wouldn’t have done that if I were you…” Bill chuckles behind Ted, lighting a cigarette without much care for how the situation goes.
Ted, however, is shaking. No, not shaking, vibrating. He stares you down through thick strands of dark hair, breath heaving, shoulders raised, looking at you as if he wanted to tear you apart. The moonlight casts shadows on his face that make something in your stomach churn with a moment of true fear.
A deep growl echoes from somewhere inside his chest, and Bill puts a hand on his shoulder. Bill looks you in the eyes with his icy blues and throws a nod towards the rest of civilization out here.
“You should go back to the party now, girlie.” He says with a fake smile at the end, dropping it and whispering something into Ted’s ear that makes him back off.
The two of them turn and walk deeper into the darkness, and you’re left standing there once again.
————
Anger is still coursing through your veins, your head not thinking properly. You don’t even want to go home, you want release from all of this. You want something different, anything.
You rejoin the party in the barn this time, and the crowd dances to music someone has set up out here. It doesn’t matter to you much what’s playing as long as it’s loud and it’s fast. You walk over to a table that hosts various amounts of liquor and find yourself a few shots deep very quickly. Heat pours through your veins, making you feel tingly all over as the alcohol begins to hit, and you join the crowd.
It doesn’t take long for you to feel the beat, winding your body in ways that you haven’t done in months now, your dress riding up shorter and shorter as you go. Soon enough, someone’s hands have caught your hips and begun grinding them into their crotch. You don’t recoil, instead, grinding back, letting their mouth find a home at your neck. If you and Ted really were broken up now, then you might as well have some fun.
You let the strangers hands wander your body, groping where they please, enjoying how the liquor feels when you move against another warm body. Sweat begins to prick your skin as you continue, and soon your mysterious stranger is whispering filthy things in your ears. Things you and Ted never even got around to doing since he used to be shy about such things, which you also used to find cute.
Now, it was like you didn’t even know him.
You shake your head with anger as the thought of Ted comes back up, trying to get back into the groove with your dance partner, but of course that too is interrupted when he is forcibly pulled from you. You pause mid dance, confusion filling your drunk mind. You turn on wobbly heels, and see those eyes, and this time it can’t be the lights making them so yellow.
Ted grabs your wrist, pulling you into his body, glowering at you.
“That’s how you’re going to get back at me?” He snidely whispers in your ear.
“What? Not like you wanted me anymore, anyways.” You cruelly throw back, turning your nose up at him to leave.
He holds you fast.
“Who said I didn’t want you anymore…?” His voice almost sounds hurt, and you try to get a read on his face.
For a second, you’re almost convinced the old Ted was back by how soft he looked right now.
You open your mouth to retaliate anyways, spiteful as always, just like your mother always warned about, but instead, Ted pulls you even closer, until your lips are almost touching, his breath mingling with yours, eyes staring deep into your soul.
“Trust me,” His voice is smoother now, hot and full of want. “I want you.”
You blink, trying to make sense of the situation, but with the alcohol pumping through your system and a history of bad decisions, you can’t stop yourself. You let your lips graze his, not even full on kissing him, just giving permission. And that’s enough for Ted.
Enough for him to let his soft, warm, silky lips crush against yours, the want so strong he has to hold himself back with every muscle in his body, arms clutching you tightly. He devours you with his kiss, and it’s almost hard for you to keep up with his lips. He pulls you onto his leg, spreading your thighs so you can ride him there, your dress now fully exposing your ass and pale blue checkered panties. His hands grip your hips, pulling you towards him and away, letting his bent knee create friction down there.
It takes everything inside you to pull away from his kiss, your chest heaving and almost ready to fall out of your dress at this rate.
“Not-Not…” You say breathlessly as you notice a few prying eyes in the crowd. “Not here…”
Ted gives you a look that sends a chill straight to your pussy.
A look that says “I would fuck you right here, right now, in front of everyone if you just gave me permission.”
And even worse.
“I might do it anyway if you don’t get us out of here quickly.”
You’re stumbling out into the woods outside of the barn before you know it. Ted half carries you the whole time, your legs wrapped around his waist as he takes you deeper away from everyone else. Your head knows this is dangerous, knows something about Ted is off, something is wrong, but you need this. You’ve been needing this, ever since he left. Maybe even before then.
Your back ends up crushed against a tree, the bark scraping against your bare shoulders there. Ted breathes heavily into your neck, no, not breathing. Inhaling. Smelling you so deeply before a moan escapes his lips.
“Fuck…” He growls in your ear. “Fuck, I-I need you so bad…”
It’s as if he can’t even get the right words out to describe it, as if it’s painful how badly he needs to fuck you. He’s hungry for you in ways you couldn’t begin to understand.
He grinds himself between your legs, and you can feel how hard he is against your pussy and stomach. His hands go down your shoulders, and you wonder when his nails got so long, the feeling of them almost clawing into your skin turning you on. He quickly pulls your dress down, exposing your breasts to his hands, where he gropes you deeply, the softness of your skin contrasting his.
You let his tongue linger in your mouth, tasting him deeply as he ruts against you, cock needing to be released. You help him, hands drunk and fumbling with his belt. Once his cock is out, you feel the head with your hand, and for a moment, you can hardly believe how big it is.
Ted’s kissing on your neck deepens, teeth grazing the skin there as you stroke his thick cock, using both hands and letting him support your weight. You don’t remember his teeth being so long, not to mention sharp, and just as your thinking of pulling way to get a better look at him, as his growling begins to reach a breaking point, you feel his teeth graze too deeply, biting into the tender flesh of your throat.
You let out a whimper, the feeling of pain mixing with pleasure. Ted takes this as an invitation, hand reaching down to your panties, and with one claw, tearing them in two. You shudder at the thought of how sharp they are and being so close to your most private parts as he checks how wet you are with one finger.
Ted pulls back from where he’s left a mark on your neck, looking you in the eyes. His face has changed, his eyes bright yellow, his teeth on full display and sporting your blood. Others may have screamed, tried to free themselves from his grip, but the monstrous look he was sporting had you weak in the knees. You shudder with pleasure as he places his cock at your entrance, the tip feeling way too big to fit even before it’s in. He seems to pause, for a just a moment, as if the human part of him can hold back just barely.
He’s waiting for you to say yes.
You nod with wanton want, and that’s all it takes. His cock is entering you, a tight fit that leaves you moaning in pain and pleasure as it stretches you beyond what you thought your limits were. You grip his back, feeling yourself already full without even having the entirety of his cock inside of you yet. What little of himself he could hold back before is gone now as he takes one small pull back from being inside you, and slams the force of his cock back where he left and then some. You cry out, trying to move to accommodate such a hefty cock, but failing.
You slip one hand down to your clit to try to tame the pain into pleasure once more, Ted’s cock filling you again and again as he takes you right there in the woods. Your hand circles your clit as best as you can, feeling yourself relax into the process of being fucked by an animal of a man.
Ted’s cock seems to grow even bigger inside of you, the base swelling as he fucks you, making it harder and harder for him to pull out of you. It’s as if you’re being infinitely filled by him as he clumsily tries to fuck you harder. His growls deepen, and as he gets closer he sinks his teeth back into the half moons he left in your shoulder earlier. You cry out as he tastes you, practically tearing you in two with his cock and his teeth, but shudder closer to climax from it all. You furiously play with yourself, free hand gripping your own breast as if the action could hold you in, hold you together for just a few more moments of the pleasure his cock fills you with at the moment.
You buck into him, his cock rutting deeper and deeper, no thoughts of the fact that he’s about to spill his seed inside you without protection, no thoughts of the teeth in your shoulder that tries to hold you still to be fucked. Only that blissful feeling of being so full you can hardly take it. So stretched out and how well that feels when you play with your clit just like that. It brings you closer and closer until you’re spilling over the edge, spamming on his cock that breeds itself into you without care.
As if he’d been waiting for you to finish, before you’ve even finished cumming the first time, Ted growls deeper than you’ve heard all night, jaw locking into your shoulder and popping his growing knot deep enough it won’t come out into you. You keep your hand busy on your clit, not ready to give this up with just one round just yet, as Ted cums deeply inside you. It’s hot, thick, and filling somewhere you’ve never been filled before. You feel it begin to seep out around his knot despite his best efforts to keep you filled, the amount of cum just too much for your body. You lose yourself in the feeling, cumming again, pussy spasming and tightening against his cock.
Worn out and overstimulated, you feel yourself being pulled from the tree. You fall on top of Ted, his knot still wedged deeply inside you with no hope of coming out soon. You straddle his body, where he lays against the dirt of the forest, breathless and staring up at the moon. It takes him a few breaths to look at you.
“So,” You say, chest heavy and pussy throbbing. “You’re a werewolf?”
He gulps in air, and almost tries to speak, then just nods, staring at you for your reaction.
After everything, you look at your boyfriend. You see his puppy dog eyes, his soft lips pursed slightly with worry, that shaggy overgrown hair. You consider it all.
“Okay.” You say affirmatively.
“Okay?” His voice is full of husk and confusion.
“Okay. Werewolf. I can deal with that.” You smile only slightly, and Ted smiles back, the Ted you know and love shining before you.
He pulls you in, tongue lapping at your neck where he bit you, and to your surprise, the bite begins to heal itself quite quickly.
“Werewolf powers.” You whisper to him and he laughs. ”Guess the San Dimas curse is true.”
“Guess I found out the hard way.” Ted whispers, half joking, half pained by the situation.
You two lay there, the moonlight devouring the scene beneath it, breathless and full. Ted’s cock throbs so deeply in your pussy you can’t imagine a time it wasn’t there. The exquisite feeling of fullness has you on cloud nine, and you can’t help but love the feeling of being so close in his arms. The way his languid hands slowly run circles on your back, the relaxed feeling of his softness almost overwhelming you along with every other sensation. You feel tears begin to well up as a release of emotions comes over you.
Ted hears a small sob hiccup in your throat, and holds you even closer, your face buried in his neck. You don’t even need anything to tell you that your soft, sweet, kind Ted was coming out now, you just knew. You knew the way he held you on top of him, letting all your weight into his body, the way his hands comforted you in ways no one else could.
You pull your face away from his, and he kisses your forehead, your cheeks, kisses up every tear that’s fallen. His lips move against your skin, his breath tickling your face, and soon enough you realize he’s whispering something.
You can’t tell what until he kisses your ears, lingering there.
“I’m so sorry, I couldn’t tell you, I didn’t know how…” Pain seeps out of every word.
You pull his face back to yours so you can look into those brown eyes of his.
“Ted ‘Theodore’ Logan, don’t you ever lie to me again, you hear me?” You say sternly, and he nods, tears now welling up in his eyes, but not yet fallen.
“Never.” He promises, and somehow you know it to be true.
You collapse into his chest, letting the emotions of the night overcome you, Ted there to comfort you through it all. You fall mindlessly asleep, worn out and waiting for Ted’s knot to go down. You still can’t believe your boyfriend is a werewolf, but at least you got him back.
At some point, Ted takes you home, somehow transporting you all the way without waking you until the very end. You wake in the middle of being placed into his bed.
He pushes your bangs out of your face gently, kisses your forehead, then climbs into bed next you, letting your body relax into his before the two of you begin to gently fall back asleep. You hear him whisper in your ear before you fall asleep.
“I love you.”
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gojocumdumpster · 1 month
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“Is it bad that, I never made love?”
ft- Baki
Type of story: 🎂
Pre-view: A nerdy virg!n and hoodish!baki…😏
Warnings: no nsfw in this one, flirting and touching
Heyy just got the urge to write yk🌚
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You were known for being the “shy”quiet A+ girl, work always turned in on time never failed to impress your teacher you would always make 80-100’s without fail everytime. Whenever your teacher asked the class to take notes or study your always the only one who listens. You had friends but not like those big friend groups just like 5-6 people max.
It was your last period of the day, and boy were you booked. You did little tutorials throughout the day 2 before school, maybe like 2-4 people during your break mid day and 1-2 people after school. Did you charge for it…hell yeah shit ain’t free nowadays. You make about 50-100 on good days but mostly 40-60 on regular days.
“Are you ever gonna lose your virginity?” one of your friends said.
“Uhm…I don’t know yet, I still haven’t decided”you said quietly writing in your notebook. “Girl there’s this cute boy in your his name is like Baki Hanma something like that yall would look cute together and I see the glances he gives to you from across the classroom.” your other friend teasing you, “Shut up! He probably does that to every girl he sees you don’t know that he’s one of the bad kids” shuffling in your backpack for your pink Ipad, you had a online tutoring business so people would go to your instagram clicking the link in your bio (pause) to make bookings to be tutored and see your schedule. You went to your website seeing the requests you had for tomorrow evening you clicked to see who booked and guess who it was. Yeah that’s right the good ole Baki hanma. Your jaw dropped and your friends were concerned rushing to look at your ipad. “Oh hell yeah! Girl this is your chance get you a man’s maybe even lose your virginity!!”.
Embarrassment was covered all over your face as you quickly closed your ipad case and shoved it in your backpack, “The bell rings in 2 minutes i’m just gonna head to class early” rushing out the library little black shoes tapping on the tile. It was the next day you had your pink skirt on with a cute graphic tee and knu skool vans with your braids in 2 cute high ponytails and lipgloss with your bracelets on. It was 3rd period and you had a class with Baki and 1 of your friends. Baki was always into trouble that’s why you didn’t want to fool around with him or be by him but the smell of his dior perfume and his cute fresh outfits everyday with his curly hair (the outfit not the dude) but today you were partnered up with him sense your friend wasn’t there and his other friend was in trouble. You were gonna beat your friends ass when you saw them, baki sat in the back so of course your teacher asked for you to go in the back with him.
You sighed as your made your way back head down, “Don’t be like that Mamas i’m not gon bite” You looked at him with a dirty look sitting down and paying attention to the teacher. The strong smell of his perfume he wore everyday and this baggy designer pants oh boy he was finer than a mf. The teacher gave you guys free time before the bell rang which was in the next 25 minutes so everyone was talking so you packed your stuff up getting ready to move back to your original seat you got up before you got dragged down roughly by your skirt revealing a bit of your hot pink laced panties.
“Hey! What the fuck?!” pulling up your skirt sitting still.
“Where you think ya going?” baki said looking at your pulling up your skirt.
“I’m going back to my fucking seat damn.” getting up once again.
“Hey, sit down.” It was something about the way he said it that made your body automatically sit back down.
“Good.” he scooted your chair closer “why you always tryna run or avoid me everytime you see me?” hooded eyes looking at you “Because your a trouble maker and annoying.” he chuckled at your response “So you saw my request for tutoring after this period right ma?” “Yes I did.” rolling your eyes, “Good. I didn’t know a little nerd like you wore lace panties that’s cute.” “S-shut up baki your so weird”
You got up as the bell rang, “We’re both going to the both place so we might aswell walk together” he said wrapping his arm around your waist. “Get the hell off of me” walking faster as you made your way towards the library. It was empty so you made your way to the back where you normally had your sessions. “You have a fatass ya know that right?!” baki said behind you. You quickly pull your skirt down pulling out a chair to sit in. “Sit down and let’s get this over with.” “Damn ma calm down.” He said pulling a seat right next to you pulling you closer to him once again. “What do you need help with?” looking at him annoyed. “Math homework” Okay let me see. As you were explaining and helping him he would trail his hands on your thighs squeezing the thickness everytime you tried to pull him off you failed so you just dealt with it.
He would look at your plump glossy lips while caressing your thigh his hands would slowly go further right next to your inner thigh hands all up in your skirt if he kept going further he would end up touching your hot core (i forgot the other saying) “It so warm up here ma.” “S-shut up.” As you were almost done he picked you placing you on his lap, “Baki no! Not here and never” you said trying to get up. “If you keep squirming like that your gonna have a bigger problem to fix ma.” you quickly sat still sighing plump ass sitting directly on his groin.
As you were reviewing the stuff you taught him, he would play with your pantie straps (idk😭) twirling them around his finger squeezing your hips. “Well sessions up” You said hopping off. “Already??” he said concerned. “Yes baki already.” Your skirt was rised up revealing your panties and your plump ass you finished putting your stuff up before you left baki gave you a 100 dollar bill. “It was only 20?!” you said confused “Yeah I know but I what wanted to thank you for the tutoring and something else.” He reached behind your gripping the thickness of your ass and pulling your skirt down before walking away. After all of that you got home ate and took your shower your were laying in your bed scrolling on your phone until you got a random text
“Hey mamas”
“Who’s this?”
Who yall think it is?
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jjunie-0 · 6 months
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True love…
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Summary: Heeseung has been your crush longer than you could remember, But of course you didn’t have him easily. He was head over heels for your best friend, Ivy, When would he waken from his daze and realize YOU were his true love?
Heeseung’s Pov
“Or just a dumbass called Lee Heeseung” Jay mumbled, earning a glare from the older.
Sunghoon spoke, “Okay, but be honest, has Ivy looked in your direction ever?”
“Yea!, remember the high school graduation party?, me and her danced and everything!” Heeseung said in an excited voice. “If you don’t like Y/n let me go chase the love of my life!” Jake blurted, heeseung stared at him.…there was a feeling inside of him.……could it be jealousy? No, of course not! That man was head over heels for Ivy, he couldn’t feel jealous about his friend trying to date his crush’s friend! Heeseung was spiraling with thoughts, yet he finally spoke “Do it, get that annoying brat to stop coming towards me.” Jake was surprised at his answer, “if you say so, the woman isn’t really that bad! She’s sweet, kind, cute, fun, awesome in general!”, heeseung groaned at his reply, “she’s neither of those, she’s a dumb little bitch who won’t leave me alone!” Jay coughed, “You do know those 3 boys she’s always with right?, they’d practically kill you if they heard you just now.”, The older rolled his eyes, “May I remind you, those 3 boys are 03-05 liners. Along with the brat herself! They ain’t gonna do shit.” Sunghoon, Jake, and Jay shared a glance with each other.
Jake was determined to help Y/N fall out of love with heeseung, It broke him seeing her tears fall because of his best friend.
Y/N POV
She had just had the best night of her life with her best friends…No! She considered them her brothers. The night was filled with laughter, cuddles, crying (Watching twilight), ice cream which they fought over which flavor, gaming, and chaos! She’s never smiled this much in her life.
“Let’s play monopoly!” Jungwon suggested and sooner than he expected all four of them were gathered around a monopoly board.
“HE’S IN JAIL IM NOT GIVING MY MONEY TO A CRIMINAL!” “JUST GIVE HIM THE GOD DAMN MONEY!!!” “THATS NOT HOW YOU PLAÆÆÆY!!!!!” “Why are they fighting?” “SHUT UP YOU STOLE MY LAST RAILROAD!” “ARGGG!” Was a good way to put how the game went, let’s just say Monopoly ruins friendships. Later that night, all of them, Riki, Jungwon, Sunoo, and Y/N were cuddled up watching ‘The Lorax’ since Y/N was crying half way thru twilight. Riki smiled softly watching the other three sleep, thinking ‘I’d give the world just to see them happy……’
Read part one and till make more sense lmao, I’m feeling abit insecure about the writing 😅
Taglist: @leaderwon
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bijouxcarys · 3 months
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Ties That Bind - PROLOGUE TEASER
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Okay, this story is in no way, shape or form ready for release yet. But I'm interested in what you all think about what I have as the working prologue at the moment. Will eventually go through some editing, but I need to know it's worth it to keep going!
(This is a mafia AU)
It wasn’t hard to miss the trail of black SUVs cruising down the rain-slicked streets of New York City. While passersby made their way home from work, they could only envy the lucky bastards who owned such a vehicle. Not that they could see inside it, of course. Its passengers were completely cloaked in shadows.
“Man, you always got the best tunes, Uce,” Jimmy said as he fiddled with the radio, a grin playing on his lips. He settled on an old-school hip-hop station.
Roman smirked. “Gotta keep the vibe right, y’know? Can’t go into business all tense and shit.”
In the backseat, Jey was stretched out, his eyes closed and his head nodding to the beat. “You think this deal’s gonna go smooth?” he asked without opening his eyes.
“Better,” Roman replied. “We ain’t got time for no drama tonight.”
Jimmy glanced at his cousin. “You hear anything about Dimitri? Anything we should know?”
Roman shook his head. “Just the usual. Volkov’s always lookin’ to expand his empire. This deal’s big for him too. So, let’s just handle our business and get out.”
They drove in comfortable silence, the city’s neon lights reflecting off the wet pavement, creating a kaleidoscope of colours that danced across the sleek surface of the car. Roman felt a sense of calm with his family close, a rare moment of peace before the storm of their criminal world.
It wasn’t much longer before they pulled into the decrepit warehouse, its once imposing structure now a crumbling relic of the past. Roman killed the engine, and they stepped out, their breaths instantly visible in the cold night air.
Wrapping his arms around himself to keep warm, Jey took in the sight in front of him. “Damn, this place down real bad… There even a point of goin’ inside? Shit looks icy in there, Uce.”
“We’re going inside,” Roman responded through a chuckle, signalling to do just that. “Can you handle a little cold for ten minutes?”
“Ten minutes?!” Jey groaned, trailing behind Roman and Jimmy.
“He just mad ‘cause the chill makes Little Jey all shrivelled and shit,” Jimmy teased with a cackle that bounced off the vacant walls of the warehouse.
Roman just shook his head in amusement. Never a dull moment with the Usos around, that’s for sure. It would make the wait more bearable.
That’s the part of these deals Roman hated the most: the waiting. And the twins’ constant back and forth only relieved the restless stretch of time to a degree before he became impatient.
Roman stood in the shadows, his keen eyes scanning the darkened surroundings for the tenth time tonight. This was supposed to be a simple handoff, a straightforward deal. But something about the stillness in the air, the silence that seemed too deep, set his nerves on edge.
“This place gives me the creeps, Uce. What’s takin’ ‘em so long?” Jimmy muttered, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“Patience,” Roman replied steadily. “They’ll be here.”
The sound of approaching vehicles broke the silence. Headlights pierced through the darkness, and a convoy of black SUVs—not too indifferent from their own—pulled up, their engines purring ominously. Roman straightened, signalling his men to stay alert. The doors of the leading car opened, revealing the brooding figure they had been expecting, illuminated briefly by the interior light.
“Dimitri,” Roman greeted, extending a hand. The Russian took it, his grip firm and cold.
“Roman,” Dimitri responded, his Slavic accent thick and voice as rough as gravel. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”
“Not at all,” Roman lied smoothly. “Let’s get this over with.”
Dimitri motioned to his men, who began unloading crates from the vehicles. Roman watched them carefully, his senses on high alert. The deal was for a shipment of weapons—high-grade, military-issue. It was a big score for both sides, provided everything went according to plan.
“So, where’s the money?” Dimitri asked, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinised Roman.
“Right here,” Roman nodded to Jey, who stepped forward with a heavy duffel bag. He unzipped it, revealing stacks of cash, neatly bundled and undeniably real.
Dimitri’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Excellent.”
As the exchange began, Roman felt the buzzing of his phone from within his pocket. He pulled it out, glancing down at the screen, half-expecting it to be another message from Maria, telling him more of what he did wrong this week.
Boy, was he wrong.
Unknown Number at 22:47 IT’S A TRAP GET OUT NOW
His blood ran cold. Roman looked up, meeting Jey’s eyes and giving a barely perceptible nod. They had been set up.
“Is there a problem?” Dimitri asked, noticing the change in Roman’s demeanour.
“No problem,” he replied coolly. “Just a little change in plans.”
“Oh?” Dimitri tilted his chin up, an attempt to face up to the hulking 6ft 3 stature of the Samoan in front of him.
“Yeah,” Roman smiled with a nonchalant shrug. “Ya know how it is, man…” His facial expression dropped from jovial to flat-out frigid. “Plans… change. Nei, tama.”
Before Dimitri could react, the air erupted with the sound of gunfire. Roman’s men sprang into action, drawing their weapons and taking cover. The Volkovs were equally prepared, and the warehouse transformed into a battlefield.
“Move it!” Roman barked, pushing Jey and Jimmy towards cover. He ducked behind a stack of crates, firing at the Volkovs as he went. The sound was deafening, the flashes of gunfire illuminating the chaos.
“Dammit, Roman, what’s goin’ on?!” Jimmy yelled over the noise, returning fire.
“Someone tipped us off. We need to get outta here!” Roman shouted back, taking down a Volkov soldier who got far too close for his liking.
Through the haze of smoke and chaos, Roman saw Dimitri retreating, barking orders at his men. It was clear the Russian had no intention of staying to see how the fight played out. Roman’s jaw tightened. This was supposed to be a simple deal, but now it was an all-out war.
“Fall back!” Roman ordered. “Get to the cars!”
His men began to retreat, covering each other as they moved. The Volkovs pressed the attack, but Roman’s team was disciplined, their movements coordinated. They reached the cars, engines roaring to life as they sped away from the warehouse.
Roman’s heart pounded as he glanced in the rearview mirror, watching the warehouse fade into the distance.
/
“This is bad, atali’i,” Sika said, turning to face Roman. “Real bad.”
Back at the Reigns family compound, the atmosphere was tense. Roman’s father, stood by the window, had just endured Jimmy’s entire recount of the night’s events with a grim expression.
“I know, Pops,” Roman replied, his voice steady but his eyes burning with anger. “But we’ll find out who did this and why. And we’ll make ‘em pay.”
Sika nodded. “We need to be careful. Whoever set this up knew exactly how to hit us. We can’t afford to let our guard down.”
Roman glanced around the room at his family, his blood, his soldiers. They were all looking to him for direction, for a plan. And he had one. But first, they needed more information.
“Jimmy, Jey,” he said, turning to his cousins. “We need to tighten security. No one gets in or out without us knowing about it. And I want you to start asking questions. Discreetly. Find out who knew about the deal and who could have tipped off the Volkovs.”
The twins nodded, their faces as serious as ever; they knew the stakes as well as he did.
“Solo,” Roman continued, addressing the twins’ younger brother. “I need you to keep an eye on Ava. From a distance, I can’t give that… strega another thing to hold over my head.”
Solo nodded, his demeanour always as cold as the North. “I got this.”
As his family dispersed to carry out their orders, Roman turned back to Sika. “We need to get answers. Fast. Someone’s playing both sides.”
Sika’s eyes hardened. “And when we find them?”
Roman’s expression was frozen with vengeance. “We make the motherfucker regret they ever stepped foot on my turf.”
This was more than a betrayal; it was a declaration of war.
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fatteningmenstories2 · 2 months
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Coached
Chapter 1 
‘Davidson a word please !”
What was it this time, Axel was already raking his brain to see what mistake he had made this time, not being the sharpest tool in the shed always led him to situations like this. And as the bustle of the  changing rooms slowly died out, Axel knew he couldn’t leave Coach waiting
“Come on Davidson - finished putting on your makeup yet’ Howled Coach from his office 
‘No Coach.. I mean .. ’ ah Axel was always a mess when it came to speaking to Coach, sure he certainly fit the All American stereotype which his killer 6 pac and biceps for days  but Coach was on whole another level, towering over anyone who dared to stand up to him, the man stood at an imposing 6ft 5 and was  jammed tight with muscle earned from his old wrestling years Axel was basically putty in his hands and it  especially wasn’t helped  by the fact that he was harbouring a schoolboy’s crush on him, but not wanting to keep the man across campus for his bite being worse than his bark so Axel knew that he couldn’t run from this mountain of a man 
“Coming Coach’
“Right lets get started’
Sitting in Coach’s office Axel felt like he was straight back in high school, designed to the last detail to make its guest feel uneasy -  Coach’s office was no easy place to be. Shelves filled high with trophies and medals, and walls littered with pictures from Coach’s own wrestling days and the  varies teams he was in charge of over the college, one knew that Coach Creed was not one to mess around with
Axel could trace Coach’s entire life through those walls, from a young wrestler no bigger than he was, to his old college team and finally to a buff muscular man winning accolades easily late into his 40s. All resulting in the 50 year old man sporting silver hairs and bulging veiny muscles sat before him. 
“Now I hate to the bearer of bad news, but Axel those no other way to put this … you  simply are just not fast enough for track’
What !!!!,  the heavy weight of all the gym equipment couldn’t to compare to weight that was being onto dropped Axel’s shoulders, he was speechless 
“I’ve been looking over your times on the track, and its just not good enough’
“Butt..Bu…’ His defence couldn’t even leave his mouth before Coach’s hand signalled for his silence. And with the ferocity of a bull with its eyes set on its target Coach plowed straight through,  dismantling Axels dreams on the side 
“To be honest this colleges track team isn’t going anyway fast  enough .. ha ha’ he paused laughing at his own joke “ And the team we’ve got is just outside your body potential’ 
He gestured, pulling the noose tighter and tighter around’s Axels neck leaving Axel frozen in his seat
“But I hate to see such wasted potential So…’ he stalled,  eyeing up Axel sternly ‘ Axel isn’t ? consider this your lucky day cus theres an opening on my Wrestling team, sure its a bit different from running around in the same circle all day every day, but this is a sport for Men!!’
He let that last sentence ruminate, his powerful voice echoing around the room 
’Now Davidson ask yourself, when you tell your kids about you wild college days do you think they gonna to care about how daddy ran around chasing his tail all day or more likely how Dad wrestled with men and triumphed’
All Axel could do was feebly nod his head to scared to even make a peep 
‘Exactly Davidson you get  it, now to be honest you ate on the small side .. ain’t you ’ ( It was like the noose reappeared only tighter), “But I am happy to take you under my wing and make a worthwhile man out you”
What could he say, he certainly couldn’t see himself standing up to Coach but this was his live he had to put up a fight
“I..”
“And before you say anything just know that, that spot you might see yourself clinging onto on the track team is long gone , its Zero!  Nada!  we’ve got a faster kid already lined up for it’
Throwing a whimpering dog a bone Coach buckled down again 
'So its either wrestling or nothing, you can kiss the scholarship of yours goodbye and especially your social ‘credit’ on campus - what you say’
And with his cards already played for him  Axel knew he couldn’t run from this,  all he had left to do was nod his head as Coach happily showed him where to sign on the papers and then  showed him out, patting him on his firm buttocks as he slammed  the door behind him 
The walk back to his dorm seemed like it could go on forever, Axel felt like he had just finally settled in, his classes were going okay, his dorm mate was great and not to mention that the gay culture had easily let another good looking lad like himself into their ranks. This was the first real opposition he could even remember,  all his life he could coast by on track and his looks and now Coach Creed was ripping it away from him with the ease of a man stepping on a bug.
Sure he should have put up a fight but when he got back to his dorm and his RA informed him of his notice, telling him he had a day to pack and move he knew that there was probably very little he could have even done.
The weekend ahead was jammed back to front, first after moving out and saying his departure to Jake his now old new roommate, he had the task of moving into the wrestling dorm. Being the last to move in and by far the lowest member in the wrestling hierarchy he wasn’t given much say about his roommate - who had been given the non-imposing name of ‘The  Boulder’ Stepping into his new room it was easy to see why the rest of the team had  landed on this nickname, Tony ‘ aka the Boulder’ was easily the largest wrestler or even man properly on campus. Compared to Axel’s trim muscular frame Tony was a behemoth, standing at must have only been 5ft 9 what Tony lacked in height he made up for in size, he barely fit unto his double bed let alone their doorway. Wrestling had given Tony a strong muscular body with arms the size of tree trunks and thighs that could break bricks but his apparent gluttonous diet paved the way for his fat boy gut and rolls upon rolls of fat. Despite his impressive size and importance on the team even Axel could see why this was the least desirable roommate, from  the floor littered with candy packages, the smell of old takeout and Tony’s easily explained laziness leaving the room looking more like a pig sty, Axel’s  new roommate was definitely going to take some adjusting to
It wasn’t just to the ‘The boulder’ that Axel easily stood out too, it was the entire team, sure Axel certainly wasn’t a stick with his firm pecs and his muscles for days but the rest of the team was just in a  whole different arena. Most of them were Axels ages some a little older but they all looked like proper men, each one beefier than the next,  packed high with body hair and muscle. And they behaved just like proper men too, when they weren’t training they were sparring with other, playing the latest video games cracking beers and even watching pornos out in the open. Not to mention their limitless appetites fuelled by their wrestling led them to be constantly be grazing on takeout and various meats. Finishing  them all off with round stomachs and fuller frames all over.  But too Axels surpise it seemed that the boys had gladly  taken him in - even going as far to nickname him ‘Pretty boy’ already, it wasn’t till later as Tony plowed straight through a large dominoes pizzas he learnt their real intention. And as he struggled to fall asleep in his new room that was filled with  Tony’s  loud snoring or the greasy smell of the empty takeout boxes, Axel couldn’t help himself but be a bit giddy thinking about what the next year under Coach’s ‘wings’ would grow into
                                            ***********
“Now Davidson to put this simply there just isn’t enough of you is there’
Standing in his briefs as Coach took his necessary measurements, Axel couldn’t help but feel a tad  bit vulnerable sure he had a great muscular boy that people would line up to get with  but as Coach noted his findings 
'28 inch waist’
'160 lbs’
“90inch torso”
The sound of disappointment that followed each taking was enough to silence him 
‘If I played you in your current state, I’m pretty sure a middle scholar could snap you in halve you twig, now you wouldn’t want that would you’ he paused as if waiting for an answer, all Axel could do was nod sheepishly as Coach continued with his tangent 
“Exactly Davidson - not to mention the embarrassment you would probably face compared to the rest of my team they would spit you out for starters’ Coach went on “No we can’t have that now can we, So don’t your worry a pretty little hair on you head’
Coach  said  grabbing Axel’s chin and pushing his head side to side leaving a definite pause in the air 
“Coach won’t have that’  he said to himself breaking the silence in a hush tone 
“We’ll get some meat on those bones of yours in on time”
As the meeting continued and Axel found that Coach’s style of conversation was more like a series of instructions belted out to him, which he was expected to follow with no hesitation, this was something he was happy to do. He loved not having to use his own brain for anything and following Coach’s instructions left little room for error 
“Now dress up and sit down we’ve got some serious work to start Davidson’  
“Look this isn’t going to be easy - but its a good thing you’ve got the best coach this side of the Mississippi on you side’ Coach’s southern thang always found a way to jump out 
“First things first before I get you out there on the ring - I’m gonna to have to get you into fighting state - and from the looks of things I’ve got a lot of work to do - haven’t’
Axel thought it was best to just keep nodding his head in ever pause,  too clueless to really contribute anything 
“Right you get it Davidson, I’m going to have to put you on a little bulk - well not so little I guess’ laughed Coach 
“You’re gonna get Coach’s special Bulk up plan, the very same one that got me from looking like a pipsqueak like yourself into the man you see before yourself’ making a note to draw attention to his own impressive frame by flexing his giant arms 
Axel hated how turned on all this Man spreading was turning him on 
“I own you now, everything you do, say and eat MUST be exactly to  my orders even to  the last crumb - have made myself clear DAVIDSON  !!’ raising his voice to pin the point down 
All Axel could do was simply nod his square head up and down to scared and even more so turned on by Coach rage
“Exactly, now first thing out you gonna do is  throw out those little girls running shoes - ain’t going to be doing much of that anymore’ Pausing to let Axel quickly take off his shoes , and chucking  them in the bin behind his desk
‘I making a man not a feeble little mouse - ain’t I Davidson”
 Allowing time for Axel to nod as his wriggled his unhoused feet Coach went on 
 “No more training, no more cardio you can’t forgot all of that instead..” He said getting up and retrieving something 
“You’re going to be drinking these’
Handing Axel the largest shake he had ever seen
‘What you doing staring at it - I SAID DRINK UP - didn’t I’
Seeing Coach’s veins in his head, Axel quickly grabbed the shake and started gulping it down, and it wasn’t hard too -  it was delicious. Creamy and Chocolatey he gulped it down the fastest he could, even more turned than before. 
“Ah I see you like it - its Coach’s top secret recipe, Don’t go spreading it around will you now Davidson ?’
Too sacred to even nod Axel just kept drinking it the faster and faster only pausing to let out burps of the delicious concoction
“Attaboy you’re even sounding like a man already, there’s going to be a lot more of that now, 3 of those a day or everywhere you feel like putting those gay little running shoes on  - you hear  and  I BETTER not  see you wasting any of that ’
 Gulp, Axel made sure to finish the very last remnants, licking his lips free of the delicious substance in order to show Coach’s an empty cup
“That’s more like it, now here’s your amended timetable’
Handing it over, Axel was surprised to really see how much Coach power  really had at this college, apart from his main Business’s classes nothing remained all instead replaced with gym session and hours tabled sport, even his lunch had been  upgraded to 3 hours and he was happy to see even more free time 
“Like the changes huh Davidson’ Coach said spying Axels prying smile 
“Don’t get any ideas, each one of those gym sessions are mandatory , DON’T EVEN DARE  go skipping out on me now and in those free times you going to be under close eye - you hear !!” 
“Yes Coach” Axel let out, not knowing where it came from 
“Now with that all worked out’ Coach said putting on a smile himself ‘you’ll be pleased to know  you’ve joined us just in time for photos - now scram’
And with that Axel grabbed his bag, quickly fixed his boner and left, happy to know Coach’s orders for him. 
Returning to the changing team the rest of the team were eagerly  waiting to pounce  - “Look who it is ,Pretty boy’s back form his private session’ followed by the subsequent wooing and towel slaps as a blushing Axel made his way to Tony who was waiting with his  new wrestling singlet 
“Forgot them” Pausing to take chunks out of a giant chocolate bar “They grow out of’   Bite .. ‘your just fresh meat’ Tony said in-between bites, handing over his singlet
Trying it on, it was loose all over, Axel was practically swimming in it, asking Tony to read the label on the back in disbelief 
“XS, hey no pressure we just run a bit big here in wrestling’ Tony responded slapping his overflowing gut which wobbled and jiggled under his fat hand
But this didn't help Axel, when the words XS left his lips Axel couldn’t help but be shocked, Coach was right he was just a pipsqueak. Looking around all the other men filled their singlets nicely, showing off their round glutes  and filled pecs, he looked like a stick  in his, compared to them . His pecs barely  touched the straps not to mention the excess fabric around his thighs that piled up. Looking over at Tony he seemed  to be  having the opposite problem, all though his muscular arms and imposing gait  was clearly on display, the real star of the show was his fat gut that easily pushed the fabric to its limited, refusing to be contained and flowing over the singlet  hiding it from vision. Surrounded by all the other wrestlers Axel looked  borderline anorexic, nobody had ever made him feel so small all the guys he had go out always compliment his body but that was in the past, even Axel knew that if he was to survive on the team some change were going to have to made 
‘Ah don’t worry about them Axel, when Coach has his way with you will be filling out that singlet of yours in no time, not lets get moving’ Tony finished gobbling up the rest of the chocolate bar
When the photograph came out, it don’t take Axel long to see  he stood out like a sour thumb not being helped by being next to Tony’s giant self. Where he had abs the rest of them had thick muscle guts, his toned trim legs were their muscular beefy thighs, he looked like a boy next to men, even with his American good-looks and chiselled  jaw standing out to their double chin and rounded cheeks, Axel felt pathetic  but looking on the bright side as he guzzled down his shake, Coach had stepped in and he was happy to follow all of Coach’s orders to grow into a proper man.
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jxrdanwayne · 5 months
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The Teen Titans, just more grounded… sort of
I love the Teen Titans (2003)… however, when I watched it back in the day, I could never really relate to any of the characters… that’s probably because I last watched TT years ago, when I was a youngin’ and didn’t know shit… when I would watch it cause “cool powers” and fun fight scenes…
But I done grown from back then, still haven’t rewatched it in quite some time, but I started to think…
What if they remade Teen Titans more grounded and even more relatable… I mean they are teens, they should be going to school, right? Wouldn’t it be cool to see the Titans going through school like and tryna balance keeping Jump City in check?
So that’s exactly what I did. Well, sorta… I ain’t no professional writer but here’s what I put together…
Characters
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Robin (Dick Grayson): Lets be honest, he wouldn't be student body prez. Why? He's too busy, also, it would be like him to turn down the responsibility. But he would be one of, if not the best, student in his class. I mean, under the guidance of Bruce Wayne himself, he wouldn't settle for less, now, would he?
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Star Fire (Kori Anders): she, in my version, wouldn't pop up on the scene yet. She remains to be seen. Probably in part/season/volume 2
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Beasty (Garfield Logan): The class clown who uses humor to mask his insecurities, especially when it comes to his shape-shifting powers. He would also be an animal rights activists at Gotham Academy (GA) too. He'd also be living with Victor too, but not exactly living lavish.
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Raven (Rachel Roth): She would be taken in by Bruce Wayne after the fallout she'd had with Trigon and running away. She'd be attending GA with Dick. She'd also be closed off, not trusting anyone and only be talking to Dick, but not necessarily opening up to him.
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Cyborg (Vic Stone): He wouldn't be going to school for two reasons. 1. He's already half machine so he knows all he needs to know, and 2, he would danger his students, because the publick already know about a hero named Cyborg. And he can't really have a secret identity cause of the machine parts that are obvious to everyone who sees him. He'd be living with Beasty.
The Narrative
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So the narrative would be through Dick's eyes. As he begins high school, he stops being Batman's sidekick for a bit, and goes on to fight crime on his own as Nightwing. As a freshman, he meets Victor Stone (pre-Cyborg) as a junior and the captain of the Gotham Academy football team. After an accident at Star Labs, Vic stops coming to school. Dick gets nosey and investigates. He thinks Vic had something to do with the accident, his father working at Star Labs and his mother's death at the time of said accident ties Vic to it. After some time, Dick sees Vic as Cyborg and realizes why he stopped attending school. What happens is: on a mission, Nightwing is in trouble and Cyborg saves him. Dick asks and Vic tells him what happened at the accident. They become friends.
About 2 years later, Dick sees a new student, this green kid, and gets curious. He asks him on the color of his skin, but Gar just plays it off as a rare skin condition. Dick, being the child genius that he is, doesn't believe him. He looks it up and confirms his hunch. He is suspicious, and understandably so because in Gotham, stuff like this usually isn't a good sign. He investigates and spies on him, finds that Gar is a shapeshifter. He confronts him about it, but Gar isn’t about that life. He hates the fact that he was turned into who he is now, so he uses humor to cover it up, try to forget. Dick convinces Gar that it ain't so bad, and intro'd him to someone like him: Vic, who had already hacked the system, literally, and got himself a house and car at that point. Gar and Vic bond over the fact that they were turned into something they didn’t wanna be, and the fact that they can't live life normally no more. They become best friends, and Gar starts living with Vic.
One day, Dick comes from school one day and sees a stange girl sat at the dinner table. Bruce tells him only her name and that he should take care of her. Raven doesn't trust Dick, not one bit. She's not even sure she trusts Bruce. She keeps playing mysterious and aloof, rarely interacting with Bruce, Dick or Alfred. Rachel (Raven) then gets enrolled into Gotham Academy, and since she's so anti-social, she'll be forced to stay by Dick's side to get through school. Through a series of trials and obstacles, Rachel learns she can she must trust others to make it out alive. She begins by giving Dick trust little by little. She gets exposed to Dick's other friends, Gar and Vic. She realizes she's not the only misfit in this group. This is when she decides to tell her story of escaping Trigon, but only to Dick. As time goes on, she starts getting comfortable with the rest of the gang.
Now, you might be wondering, what event will lead the Teen Titans to become the Teen Titans? What's the conflict?
Peep this…
(This is pre-Raven, by the way) Dick just resigned as Robin and takes on the mantle of Nightwing. He's tryna gain indipendence and escape from Batman's shadow. Bruce sees no problem with this, in fact, he tries to help him. But Dick refuses, he wants to do things on his own, but keeps encountering roadblocks along the way. He manages to get Gar and Vic to join him, and he even finds an underground warehouse to make their base of operations, however, it's empty. They haven't really gotten going... Even some times, Nightwing goes after a villain alone and doesn't inform his team, he gets in trouble and the Titans or Batman saves him. One day he finds his hideout filled with computers and weapons, and state of the art crime-fighting equipment. Totally decked out. This could only be the doing of one person: Bruce Wayne. He gets mad at him because he didn't want help from anyone, but the Titians are thrilled. He confronts Bruce and Bruce tries to tell him that even he needed help sometimes. I'm not really sure what event would get Dick to see that it's okay to accept help from people every once in a while. Perhaps y’all could help me. But anyway, that's Dick/Nightwing's arc.
[Plot happens, Rachel joins the Titans]
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Up until this point, the Titans aren't exactly what you would call a well-oiled machine, they keep bumping heads and disagreeing. And there's no real threat to test their strength together as a team, cause there's Batman keeping the peace in the city. But then Batman, during a fight with the Joker and his allies, he gets his back broken I know, it’s been done, it’s not original and goes into a coma indefinitly. This forces the Titans to get their shit together since there's no one left to keep Gotham safe from Joker and crime. They ain’t just fighting regular villains, they are in the big leagues now, fighting Batman's villains. This will be the Titans' true test. Nightwing tries to get the team on board, but they are scared and reluctant. They never faced threat like this, but Nightwing convinces them that they can do it, and that it wouldn't be easy, but if no one does this, no one will. He says he can't do this on his own. He says he needs help.
What do y’all think?
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brandyschillace · 18 days
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It’s 3:30pm, and I’m having a coffee break. So how about some story time regarding one of the most embarrassing moments of my young life… which was revelatory about my character overall, if not exactly formative. it begins on a school bus. The afternoon school bus taking me, 7th grader, home.
Now, the high school and junior high were near one another, and took in students from the wide rural area surrounding. that means junior high kids rode the bus with high school kids. This is important for the story. I should also mention that my friend Tanya was also on this bus. And she had an idea.
The captain of the football team, junior, lived near her house. She had been watching him all her young life, and had developed a very serious pining crush. Now, three or four years, doesn’t make much difference to adults, but to said high school junior, she was a little kid. Hopes dashed. And yet:
When you are 13, hope springs eternal. Beyond that, there is a delicious almost tangible high that comes from being proximately near the beloved. An acknowledgement is heaven. What might help the strapping lad see and acknowledge young Tanya? Because obviously that is all that true love requires… Her brilliant plan: when her crush walks to the front of the bus for his stop, I should ‘accidentally’ bump into him, causing him to fall/sit into Tanya’s seat. (And acknowledge her in some love misted way that apparently worked in the movies she’s seen.) simple. Would I be a friend and so do?
I am also 13. I am not interested in boys. I am not at all sure about this plan. But Tanya knows my weakness. In the hallowed foyer of our school was a magical machine—a VENDING machine. It was new. It was the first one I’d ever seen. (Did I mention it was rural?) And the machine sold brownies. —Fudge-y, terrible, iced brownies with nuts, and I freaking LOVED them, but rarely had a spare 50 cents. Tanya pulls one of these bad boys out of her bag. NOW would I shove the football crush into her seat?
Oh yeah. You bet.
And here is where I begin to learn a thing about me:
1. Will work for food
2. When I commit… I COMMIT. Time is wasting, and bus slows. Here he comes from the back, jansport tossed over one shoulder, books in hand. My moment has come. I’d moved to the opposite seat along the aisle. Tanya gives me a sage nod. DO IT. Hee crush enters optimal shove zone. And I go for it.
Problem. Her crush is a junior. AND captain of the football team. There is no slight bump from a twiggy 13 year old strong enough to be noticed much less effective. The mission should have failed and I should have mumbled an apology.
BUT I DO NOT.
BECAUSE I AIN’T NO QUITTER.
So… Honestly, some of this is sort of a blank. At some point, it seemed using my entire body like a line backer would be the better option. Maybe I was influenced by his football jersey. The rest is like movie scene where all the drama / action suddenly stops and you get a freeze frame in total silence.
When I ‘come to’ as it were… I’m on the floor of the aisle. Sort of. I am straddling a man’s leg and sitting on his foot. I have been shoving (or sort of clawing at?) his rather broad torso. I *may* have been saying SIT! But I hope just in my head, as it’s weird enough. And the boy looks TERRIFIED.
The bus has stopped. Kids are staring. The driver is staring. I can mainly see upward, so take in the full view of a junior footballer holding his bag and books over his head as though I’m a rabid dog. And I can see Tanya. She has gone seven shades of WTF and is trying to disappear into her purse.
Now, there are only so many ways you can extricate yourself from a situation like this one. (Note: it is still totally silent). I scramble backward into the nearest seat, which — yes— means unwrapping myself from his leg. And then I look him full in the eye and say: “oh, excuse me” just as planned.
He says *nothing*. Just very quickly gets off the bus. Now I’m sitting next to Tanya, and the full force of what I just did washes over me so hard that I still feel it. Tanya, now squeezed so low in her seat as to be near invisible: ‘what the hell was THAT?’ I don’t know, so I say ‘you told me to!’
She very much did not tell me to squid attack a footballer. But in principle…
She tells me she will never be able to face him again. I don’t know why, I’m the one he’ll have nightmares about. Some threats about never being my friend again ensue, but ultimately end in exasperation. But—BUT:
I did a days work, dammit, I want a days wage. “You still want the stupid brownie??”
The look of surprise mixed with confusion and maybe disgust doesn’t phase me as it ought; she hands over the prize and then gets off the bus. I’m subjected to sniggering. I’m blushing.
But I ATE my brownie.
… I think there are life lessons. At least one is that I am WAY autistic. But hey. I commit. I mean, I WILL do the thing.
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