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#biology denial
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At this point, Pseudo-Scientific American is basically as reliable as The National Enquirer.
This is what ideological takeover looks like.
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reikurusu · 1 year
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#Rei’s Genes At Work
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hubbydaddies · 1 year
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Rei’s Boss’s “bloodline” speech feels very targeted and homophobic. Like dude keeps bringing it up, and he chooses to show the exact pic with Kazuki and Rei sharing their indirect kiss.
He knows his son is gay, and instead of conversion therapy or the normal disgusting pray the gay away shit homophobic parents use, Shigeki just says “nah, ima do a murder.”
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sentienceisoverrated · 7 months
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Studying chemistry is like: electrons have a love-hate relationship
Biology is like: Look at this. It’s adorable. *shows picture of bacteriophage*
While psychology is like: Freud wanted to fuck his mother and was in denial about it. Discuss.
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jenxiez · 2 months
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I am going insane about my science grade holy fucking shit if I lose my gold honour role streak here I am gonna cry
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domtopvarric · 11 months
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I mean the straightforward interpretation is just that he's saying he doesn't attribute spiritual significance to it but there is also another, secret, more deranged interpretation too.
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shreksnuts · 1 year
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sex denialism - should we fear it?
a specter is haunting the public sphere - the specter of sex denialism.
if you’ve been keeping up with the kardashians - or just with what’s been going on in the media lately - you may have stumbled upon a brand new term: “sex denialism”. some people love it, some hate it, some are afraid of it - and it seems to have caused quite the outrage in the scientific community - but you may be wondering to yourself: what is “sex denialism” even about?
well, if you’re looking for an explanation, look no further! this brand new hot-button issue revolves around a question that, on its face, seems quite simple: do people have sex or do they not? as you will see, however, answering this question has proven rather complicated.
it’s in our favorite tv shows, on the billboards we drive by, even in our children’s textbooks - but is sex really real? prompted by a dec 1 post on e. musk’s infamous platform, twitter, which called the phenomenon into question, people around the world have been discussing the possibility of sex being all just a great big lie - an adult fairytale, if you will.
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the tweet was controversial, gaining many supporters as well as many opponents. it was retweeted by public figures as prominent as stephen king - though his stance on the topic remains unclear. there were also many dissenting voices, with people allegedly flooding the original poster’s inbox with insults (namely “virgin”) but also deep, thought-provoking questions like “if sex isn’t real, how were you born?”
we have asked experts to weigh in on the matter. richard goberpober, a biology professor at the university of milwaukee, assured us that “sex is definitely real. it is the only way some organisms, like humans, can reproduce”, and “look, i’m not saying everyone has a lot of it, but our species would go extinct without it.” however, there doesn’t seem to be a clear consensus on the matter in the scientific community. robert albert, a geologist who has dedicated the better part of his life to the study of magic crystals, went on record saying “when you really think about it, sex [...] is nothing more than another instrument in the hands of the feminists, who seek to establish matriarchy by using the promise [of sex] against us. in all my 45 years of life, i’ve [...] never seen it happen.”
the celebrity community is equally split on the issue. for example, a day after the twitter “sex-astrophe”, danny devito came out to confirm that “[he] love[s] sex”, further claiming, “i have it every day. just ask my wife.” despite not being asked to comment on the situation, former president d. trump took to his social media platform, truthsocial, on dec 3, to express his opinion. in the post, he wrote: “the democrats are now claiming that #sex is not real. of course sex is real. i have sex every day. and it is good sex. the very best in the world.”
we have reached out to millionaire taylor swift for comment on the issue. “sex? i have never seen hole,” she responded evasively, then added, “and stop asking me about it, or my lawyer will be in touch.” we have also reached out to stephen king on twitter, however, he declined to comment.
much to the shock of his fans, sex education star ncuti gatwa came out in support of the controversial tweet in his new interview for teen vogue. while the show he has previously starred in promotes the idea that sex exists, he is apparently of the opposite opinion. “even my parents told me about it, but i’ve come to realize that it’s probably not real,” he claimed, further insinuating that, “it could be a lot like santa, you know, or the tooth fairy. except grown adults believe in this stuff.” when pressed on why exactly he believes sex is not real, he explained, “a lot of people think i have, but i’ve actually never had it. it just... doesn’t seem natural. i mean, i use mine to urinate. and you’re telling me i should be putting it in some sort of vortex? what if it gets lost in there?” the interviewer has since commented that gatwa appeared distraught by the possibility. when asked whether he would continue to star in the popular show, he declined to answer.
ultimately, this topic has proven to be quite divisive, splitting society into two different camps: sex believers and sex deniers. which one are you?
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yourladyindank · 2 years
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Pro-life people are anti science and their arguments are anti science and anti freedom and anti woman.
Prove me wrong
Make sure them sources is peer reviewed
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hoshigray · 2 months
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𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 | satoru gojō
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : The start of the spring semester is supposed to be fresh and new, not be cramped up in a closet with your frenemy at a party! And what's worse: you actually like the feeling of his lips on yours!?
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - implied that reader is a virgin - first kiss - awakening feelings - virginity loss - kissing/making out in a closet - thigh riding - grinding/humping - sex in shared rooms; college dorms (empty) - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - orgasm denial- clitoral play (sucking, pinching and swiping) - missionary position - protected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up) - pet names (baby, cutie, gorgeous, pretty, princess, sweetie) - cameos: Utahime, Geto, Shoko and Mei Mei - humor bc I'm [not] funny - mention of vaginal pain, spit and tears.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k (i'm so sick...)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: yessirrrr let's get this party started, shall we? >:333 plz enjoy the first part of this series!! and tysm for 5.3k !!! y'all are too kind && happy bday to my gal, jazzy!! hope you enjoyed your special day, jazzy jam c:
❤︎ « next story
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“GO FUCK YOURSELF, SATORU GOJO!”
“BETTER THAN FUCKING YOU, Y/N L/N!”
“They’re at it again already, huh?”
“Yeah, man, it’s going to two o’clock. Might as well enjoy the show.”
College is hard enough as is. The fact that you’re now back for the spring semester is tiring enough, wanting to get these classes over with and wrap this up. Spring, Easter, and Summer break are just right around the corner, the cherry on top for this exhausting second half of your junior year. Those are the end goals!
But alas, the semester just started. The students scramble around buying their textbooks and switching courses around, struggling to make final move-in decisions and already stressing over seasonal depression at this time of year. Spring semester, huh? Same old, same old.
Although there are negatives that make it nerve-racking, there are still good things that come with this junior year. Finally over with winter break, you’re excited to be back to living with your roommates, Utahime, Mei Mei, and Shoko! They’re your girlfriends for a reason; missing hanging and stressing with them as they made your college experience much better than you expected. 
And it doesn’t end there, either! You missed study sessions at the campus café with your second-year peers, Yu Haibara and Kento Nanami. The two best friends always help with your studies whenever you need it. And, of course, you can’t forget about their roommate and your friend, Geto. The tall, raven-haired Biology major is always looking out for you and paying visits to study with Shoko. There was even a time he helped with a mouse situation in your dorm! Poor Utahime that day – saw the rodent when she came out of the shower.
However, you’re not exactly thrilled to see everyone after coming back. You throwing a middle finger at someone on the opposite side of the pathway should be evidence of such. “Oh, go jump off a cliff, Gojo!”
“Hah! I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction!” Satoru Gojo was the direct roommate of Suguru Geto, best friend of his and Shoko, and was the star player of the campus basketball team. But most of all, he’s the kid you despise with every fiber of your being. “I’d be more entertained with you slipping on some ice.”
“Oh, you wish! I saw you slip on some ice yesterday on your way to Professor Yaga’s class.” You puff your chest with pride when you see the white-haired guy suck his teeth in annoyance. “Made my whole day, what a fucking moron. How about slowing down next time? You were late anyway!” 
Snowy brows furrow with a scoff. “God, you really are a perfect roommate for Utahime; the both of you are so tiny and angry at the world around you for no reason.” 
Utahime, standing beside you during this yelling competition, decides to chip in after that remark. She almost popped a vein, “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY, SATORU!?” 
“You heard me!” He barks a laugh at the two of you, turning around to go on his way. “Heard it’s gonna snow later tonight. Be sure to find a nice, big, puffy jacket and some boots so the storm doesn’t sweep you away, Y/n~.”
“I’ll be sure to shove an icicle up your ass before that, you fucker!” You turn on your heel and stomp your way out of the scene, Utahime following your move. “Hmph! Hate his ass so much…”
“Tch, right there with you.” Your roommate sighs heavily to exude the aggression. “But damn, the way you two go at it is worse than mine.” 
She is not wrong; it’s true – everyone within the campus grounds knows how much you and Gojo can’t stand each other. It’s no secret; at least you two make that apparent everywhere you go. This little feud between you started freshman year with you two in the same first-year engagement program. Tiny disagreements turned into narrowed glares, which then pivoted into prominent arguments, and now here we are. 
You hoped that freshman year would be the last you’d ever see of that snow-haired prude. Unfortunately, you were wrong. The year after, you were unhappy to discover he’s best buds and roomies with Geto. And what’s worse is that you were ill-fated to share a class with him every semester — especially this one with Professor Naga for Contemporary Issues. Is this the universe’s way of punishing you for something? For what!?? 
You’ve been a good kid, doing what you can and getting the grades that brought you merit and accolades. So, you don’t get how this one guy with his stupid round sunglasses is getting under your skin. So fucking annoying…
You hate him. You hate everything about him. From the way he immediately gives you a smug look when you walk into the room and take your seat right in front of him. The way he surprises you from behind because he finds your reactions amusing. The way he relentlessly calls your name to get your attention when you’re obviously ignoring him, even when he doesn’t need you for something. 
It all makes you heated. You hate Satoru Gojo. I hate him so much!
“…hear me?…Y/n?”
You blink, realizing you were too deep in thought for your ears to pick up Utahime calling out for you. “Hmm? What’s up?”
She pulls out the keys to the dorm from her coat. “So? You coming along?”
Huh? “Where are you going?”
“To Haibara’s get-together?”
Oh, hell no! “No, Uta. I think I’ll stay here.”
The dark-haired girl watches you walk past her when she opens the door. “Why?? It’s the first Friday night of the semester; it’s not gonna be a big party or anything. Just close friends.”
“What are we talking about?” Shoko chimes in after leaving the bathroom, brushing her teeth with sleepy eyes. “Haibara’s thing tonight?”
Utahime nods hurriedly at the drowsy nursing student. “I’m trying to convince Y/n to come!”
The brunette shrugs at the comment, following you two to your room. “Well, it’s not like I’m going either.” She snickers when the eldest dark-haired roommate turns to her with a hurt expression. “Sorry. I already have notes I need to get behind on. You can tell the guys I said hi, though.” 
Another sigh leaves Utahime as she puts her bag on her desk. “…Mei Meiiiii,”
“Yesss~?” The fourth roommate calls out from the hallway. 
“Are you going?”
“Mmmm, not sure.” Mei Mei comes to the doorframe, her long silverish-blue hair done in pigtails with a green skin-care mask covering her face. “Got a meeting for my club to head to later. And even then, it might still be a while for me to join, depending on if people are hanging out afterward.” 
Now is when the Utahime whines to her hands before she turns back to you, sitting on your bed. “Y/n, please, come with me!”
You don’t give in to her cries. “No, think I’ll stay and keep Shoko company.”
But she doesn’t give up. “Please! It’s just a small group of friends and maybe a few classmates Haibara’s familiar with. No biggie!”
“Small group of friends, huh?”
“Yes!”
“You know who else are his friends?” You lift a brow when she does the same. “His roommates: Nanami, Geto, and—“
“Gojo…” Utahime completes your sentence in defeat, understanding why your reluctance is present. 
“Sorry, Uta. Maybe next time.” 
Now, you’re not saying you’ve never been to the guys’ place before; they reside on the other side of campus where senior housing is (Nanami’s pick because he’s an RA). However, it’s the first Friday night of the semester. Meaning it’s the first free weekend for most students. And you’re going to ruin everyone’s fun by being in the same place as Gojo? Yeah, no thanks.
That is until Mei Mei says, “Actually, I heard from a friend that the basketball team are planning on going out somewhere tonight.”
Shoko adds on while taking out her toothbrush to appropriately speak to her friends. “Yeah, now that you mention it, Gojo told me he probably won’t be at the place in the first place. Something about meeting up with a group for one of his classes.”
All separate reasons from different accounts, yet that only fuels Utahime to beam out of her mini-depression and face you once more. “See? Gojo won’t be there by the time we get there! He’ll be busy with a group project – or whatever – and will hang with his sports buddies. So, you up for it now?” 
Your brows trench down. “I…I don’t know—“
If there’s one thing the oldest roommate is good at, it’s not giving up. And it’s because she bats her pretty brown eyes and gives you the most grandiose pleading puppy face she can. It’s the oldest manipulation tactic in the book, yet it works by making your heart cringe.
Of all things to be dragged into now, it was a party? The semester just started, and you haven’t even touched a single piece of reading yet. Is this a good idea? You can’t really go based on the perspective of your roommates because what’ll happen on the off-chance you do see Gojo? The thought of it is already headache-inducing.
Then again, it’s the first time since last semester that you’ll be able to see the other guys. You didn’t say goodbye to Geto and Haibara before break because they were swarmed with finals, and Nanami was gone the moment he found out all his exams were take-home. You’re not much for parties, to be quite honest. Regardless, it would be nice to catch up on the gang and see how they’re doing before we all revert to non-stress-free college life.
You release a sigh through your nostrils before making your decision begrudgingly. “...Don’t make me regret this.”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
I regret this so fucking much…
Well, this night was going to be quite a drag. Why? Let’s go over the reasons, shall we?
The party that was supposedly at Haibara’s dorm? So, it turns out, there was a change of plans, and to be relocated somewhere else — like outside campus grounds. Screw walking, you and Utahime had to go by car with Geto to go to the party, following down the main street into this big, beautiful neighborhood and parking by a big house. Perfect for housing an event for many people to drink, dance, and vibe.
Oh yeah, that was another thing, too; the many that were attending this fucking party. Word got out about the get-together, so, of course, lots of people wanted to come and celebrate the first weekend. So, not only are you outside campus grounds, but now you’re forced to interact with a crowd rather than a small group of people. You practically have been to every corner of the place to disassociate with people you didn’t know. 
So, where are you now? Upstairs in one of the bedrooms, where the bass of the speakers downstairs can be heard. You’re not alone — sitting in a circle with Utahime, Geto, and a couple of other kids who’re present at your university. What’s happening in the room? Just a chill game of truth, drink, or seven minutes in heaven; either you answer truthfully to a question, drink to avoid it, or go to the closet and do what you want with the person who spun the bottle on you.
But, there was nothing chill about the game, and the players would agree to that notion apprehensively. Because you most definitely silently dreaded every second of this entire night. Why? How about asking the person across you that you’ve been glaring at since you opened the bedroom door and saw his face?
Apparently, as word got out about the party, the college basketball team heard about it and decided to come and celebrate. Meaning the whole team is at this party. Let’s say that again: the entire basketball team – all the players – are here to enjoy the party.
The person who stood across from you sat criss-cross with long, jean-covered legs, leaning with his hands behind him, a navy blue sweatshirt, and dark round shades that cover his eyes that you know are looking dead at you. And a smug grin that patronizes you to the core.
You peer to your night, giving Utahime the nastiest look you can. And the eldest could only meekly mumble an “I’m sorry…” with twiddled thumbs.
Satoru Gojo looked at you, and you frowned right back at him. The tense atmosphere between you two was enough to suffocate the other players. Some would try to break the tension by playing the game. But even then, it was still strenuous. One girl rolled the bottle on Geto, to which he picked “truth” and answered her question: “How did you and Gojo meet?”
Even though he didn’t pick the option, he’d take a small swig of his beer. “Satoru and I have been friends since middle school — same with my other bud, Shoko. We’ve been inseparable since, and now we’re here. He can be an asshole, though, so watch out.”
A guy spun the bottle on Utahime and asked, “Were you ever interested in Gojo?” The raven-haired girl clicked her teeth and took a chug, drinking the whole thing in one sig. 
“Hmph! I’d rather drink sweat from Professor Gakunaji’s crusty beard and eyebrows!” She’d admit after a burp.
“Ahaha! That’s a sight I’d like to see,” Gojo would chuckle at her insult, prompting a few around him to laugh. “Bet you’d get more satisfaction from it than being with me anyway.” 
The senior rolls her eyes before opening another bottle. “Fucking bastard…”
Another spin to the bottle after a couple comes out of the closet all close and giggly. This time, it lands on you. Some bubbly girl who had her eyes all up on Gojo, her nipple piercings able to be seen from her crop tee, was the one who spun it. She asks you, “Y/n, could you please tell me why you hate Satoru so much?”
You couldn’t fight the twitch of your eye. Of fucking course. You’re in no mood to drink, and you barely know this girl to think of being in the closet with her. You exhale through your nostrils, “….We’re friends, to an extent.”
“To an extent?” She asked more questions with a naive tone. “But Satoru's so nice, no?”
Oh, drop it, will you? And why are you referring to him by his first name like you know him? “We’re—“
“They mean that we’re kinda friends, kinda not.” Of course, nothing can be to yourself because the white-haired nuisance went ahead and answered your question. “They’re friends with my roomies, and my friends are their roomies. So, I guess that makes us friends by association. At least that’s the only way to see it since we nearly argued our heads off freshman year.”
You scoff with narrowed eyes, “By association, huh.” 
He quirks a brow up. “Mhmm.”
Good God, the more you two throw invisible daggers at each other, the more uncomfortable people feel being in this room. Oh, but don’t worry; the night gets even worse. Three turns later, it was your turn to spin the bottle. And – sit with me here – just guess who it lands on? Bingo! Satoru Gojo.
The hushed gasps that filled the room were telling; it was bound to happen, but no one thought it would happen. The star-crossed haters spun the bottle and landed on each other. And since Gojo doesn’t drink (and he finds the questions rather lackluster), he chooses the closet. The gasps were louder that time, and your blood began to boil.
The first time it happened was uneventful; it’s what you preferred. After the door closed, you told him, “Don’t even think about touching me.” It was just pure silence for the entire seven minutes. You sat on one side of the emptied closet while Gojo was on the other. There were the occasional sniffles of your nose and his loud yawns. But other than that, you two stayed at your respective sides of the closet. Seven minutes of no words, just keeping to yourself and watching the lava lamp in your corner be your light. 
You two survived the first set of seven minutes, not a scratch on either of you, to everyone’s thankful stars. Keywords: first set. Because why wouldn’t there be more? 
When it got to Gojo’s turn, he spun the bottle and got you! So, here you are, walking into the closet again with your notorious opp. You swore to God this had to be the universe’s way of toying with you as if the start of this semester wouldn’t be a handful to deal with already. 
You’re back on your side of the closet, groaning at your hands. It’s okay, Y/n, calm down. You can sit through another seven minutes. You got this! Don’t even act like he’s there…
And so you compose yourself, watching the heated, yellow wax of the purple lava lamp prompt up to the top to cool and sink back down. Six minutes…Five…Four—
“So, let’s say, hypothetically,” your eyelids closed shut for your eyes to roll freely. “I asked for a little something-—“
“I guess I should’ve added no talking, too. Thought that was rather self-explanatory to you.” You shut him down quickly. “And I thought I said don’t even think of touching me.”
“Well, you’re not in control of my brain,” you don’t have to turn your head to know that the fucker is looking at you. “Besides, I did say hypothetically.”
This motherfucker… ”Well, then, I’d, hypothetically, break every single one of your fingers and give them to Mei Mei so she can sell them to all your fangirls.”
“Hah! Nice to know you see me of high value.” He shifts his feet around from their crisscrossed position. “Bet you’d keep one of them.”
You scoff. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself! I’m annoyed just from not looking at you; what the fuck would I need your stupid finger for.” 
“Hmmm, I can think of many, like—“
“Do not finish that sentence, Gojo.” Your tone dialed lower; a warning. He notices it, bringing his hands up defensively. 
“Jeez, lighten up, Y/n.” He says while leaning against the back wall. “With an attitude like that, no other guy or gal in that room will ever want to be in a closet with you.” 
Oh, you don’t say, fuckface! “I barely want to be in this closet with you. Hell, I didn’t even want to be here! I only came for Utahime, assuming it would be a small party…How the hell did you even get here? I thought the basketball team was going out somewhere.“ 
“Awww, you spying on me, Y/n?” Oh, you hate his fucking snicker, shoving a middle finger in his direction. “We were supposed to be at some restaurant joint, but a few of the crew flunked out on us and said they’d go to some ‘big party,’ then everyone wanted to go, and now we’re here. You know I don’t like alcohol, but I just tagged along because Suguru was here. I didn’t know about you, though.” 
You bring your hands to your face to sigh in private. “We gotta stop meeting like this…It’s like I can never escape you.”
“…Is that a bad thing?” 
You open your mouth to refute, but no words leave….Huh?
That was…..odd. Why did he ask that question like that: you couldn’t detect a remnant of childish malice he’d been throwing at you back and forth. Even when you faced him, his face was straight ahead. But when you don’t answer, his left eye goes to his peripheral to glimpse at you.
What the…Is he being genuine right now? 
You gaze at him briefly before turning away, “I….I don’t know.” He hums to your response. “….Do you think so?”
Gojo shrugs. “Can’t say so either.” You hum back, and the silence takes over once again.
Okay, now things are even more awkward. You came into this closet with irritation, yet somehow, it vanished into thin air. It was the one thing that’s been constant throughout this evening. Now that it’s gone, you can only replay the moment from a few seconds ago in your head. 
Is it a bad thing? Why would he ask that? Of course, it’s a bad thing! Has he forgotten how much hostility we have for each other? Jesus Christ….Wait, why did he say he didn’t know either? What does that even mean!!??
“You look nice.” 
You—……I’m sorry, what???
The way you snapped your head back to him, you could’ve sworn you heard your neck crack. Holy fuck, why the hell was he looking at you right now? His round glasses shine from the lava lamp, so you can’t see his eyes.
“Wh….What?” It was cold; the weather app said it would snow later tonight. Therefore, the temperatures and winds were unforgiving after sunset. So you took it upon yourself to dress warmly. It was all simple, just a white, long-sleeved halter blouse that matched your black skirt – it was the only nice thing you had outside of regular leggings. And you covered your legs with black pantyhoses but decorated with cute white knitted leg warmers. 
He repeated in a singing tune. “You look nice.”
When it came to the white-haired guy in this closet with you, there were rare moments where you felt as though you were shocked by him. This was beyond astounding, the comment continuing to ring throughout your ears.
You blinked at him before averting your eyes down to your hands, trying to distract the increase of heat on your cheeks by intertwining your fingers together. “….Thank you, Gojo.”
“Yeah, no problem,” he’d shrug again, chuckling to himself before adding on. “It’s way better than your other outfits. Baggy old sweatshirts, bags under your eyes even if you’re wearing glasses, sweatpants with stains. You look like a homeless librarian.”
Annnnnd just like that, with the drop of your quivering lip, all the warm feelings you felt for a minute evaporated in seconds. The anger returned with the twitch of a brow. “…Tch, gee, thanks. I can’t say the same for you.” 
“Oh, you know you look cute when you’re jealous~.”
You almost busted a nerve. Who the hell are you calling, cute? “As if. From the sound of it, you must be jealous of me; who told you to be looking and criticizing what I wear? Must be rough not being able to wear comfortable clothes all the time, huh?”
“Shut the hell up,” he finally snaps, and you stick your tongue out in victory.
“No, I’ll keep going! I’m sorry, Mr. Perfect, but not everyone wants to put on their best outfits to impress you, not like your fangirls who get their best bras to push up their breasts for you to notice.”
“Huh, you lookin’ at other girls' boobies? Wow, Y/n, never took you as a pervert.” He laughs at your stare of pure anger. “You are jealous, huh? That I’m talking at other girls and not you? Awww, don’t be so selfish; there’s plenty of me to go around!” 
You snarl at him. “Ugh, you’re so gross! I don’t want anything to deal with you. So all those girls can have you and rip you to shreds for all I care. Let them know how much of a big fucking baby the wonderful, amazing Satoru Gojo is when he drops his ice cream on the floor and cries on Geto’s shoulders. Or that you’re such a lightweight that you accidentally vomited in Nanami’s cup one time, which he threw at you...Or maybe I should tell them.”
His brows furrow, “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would, and then some.” You sneer. “In fact, I’ll go downstairs, grab that red punch, and spill it right on you in front of that girl next to you. I’ll make your hair look like strawberry shaved ice.” 
He leans his cheek against his fist with a huff. “I take it back; you don’t look nice at all. So uncute.”
You gasped with trenched brows. “Excuse me!?”
“You heard me, you’re uncute!” Yup, today was the day: you’re going to choke the hell out of this motherfucker. “I feel bad for any guy who'd wound up in this closet with you, dealing with such a little devil.” 
“You’re one to talk, dickhead! I’d much rather be stuck in this closet with anyone else — even Geto!”
“Taah, as if! I bet you never even had your first kiss with such an attitude like that.”
Again, you open your mouth to say something, yet words evade you at that very moment. And Gojo catches it quickly. Because his brows raise, lifting his head back up, eyes scanning your face. 
Oh fuck.
“...”
Don’t.
“….Y/n,”
Don’t say it.
“You never had your first ki—“
BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!!
He couldn’t finish that sentence, thank God, because the phone alarm from the outside rang. Seven minutes are up — this session is up, so you quickly stood up and opened the closet door. 
With swift feet, you sit back next to Utahime, your eyes downcast to the bottle, avoiding Gojo’s feet coming around and taking his spot across from you. Your roommate perks at your silence, “You okay, Y/n?”
A nod is offered to her, “Yeah, I’m fine.” No, you weren’t. Your heart was pounding like crazy, your skin dropping in color. And you can feel the eyeballs from across boring into your being. “Let’s just keep playing.”
And so the game carried on from Gojo’s turn. Your eyes could only ever look at the bottle, hoping it would never land on you from there on out. But that would be the easy way out, and – as life is – nothing goes your way when you want it to be.
Because when it gets to your turn, you watch with patient eyes as the glass spins on the cold hardwood floor. One spin goes by, and another swings around. Finally, it stops, the neck of the bottle pointing vertically from you, and your whole figure washes in apprehension with the hushed sounds of exclamation of the other people in the room. 
Alas, the bottle pointed to Gojo. It was inevitable – you couldn’t avoid his presence since the last session anymore. You look at him, your brows scrunched with mercy. But he points to the closet with his chin, and you follow his lead to the small space with anxiousness at every step. 
Back to your respective stations in the closet. You can only use the mesmerizing wax of the lava lamp as a sort of comfort – a distraction for your nerves that are at an all-time high. Why were you so nervous? All he did was ask if you ever had your first kiss taken.
Yeah, that’s the problem! Why did he have to know that!? Ughhhh, I should’ve just lied or something…Now what? Will he make fun of me for not having my first kiss taken yet? What is this, middle school!?? The thoughts in your head were a battle to deal with, one personal worry after another.
But all that washes away when the silver-haired guy finally breaks the quiet after a minute. “…Wanna kiss me?”
It felt like your heart dropped at that abrupt question; the warm circulation coursing through your body transitioned to an ice-cold sensation. Your breathing stops, and your eyes shoot wide at the person you’re with. “….Wha….What did you say?”
He doesn’t hesitate at your request. “Wanna kiss?”
Have….Have you lost—“your mind!? Why would you ask me that??” You whisper yelled at him so the people outside don’t hear you.
He shrugs nonchalantly. “Why not?”
Why not?!? “Gojo, you can’t be serious. Just because I never had my first kiss doesn’t mean I need it to happen this instant! Are you that much of a horndog that you’d ask—“
“Let me explain, alright!?” He yells in whispers back with a hand raised to stop your rambling, and you hold your tongue. “Listen, I’m not asking to be a dick, okay? I just thought that…ya know, being in a place full of strangers, someone’s bound to be in this closet with you and ask you for a kiss.”
Your face screws to a magnificent expression of confusion you could ever contour. “Why are you concerned about who I kiss? It’s not like I’d agree or—“
“Yeah, but like, what if they did, huh?” His sky-blue eyes peek from above his sunglasses. The sharpness they carried told you he was serious about this — like he was serious about you. That…That was so off of him. “What if some weirdo forces themselves on you, and me and Suguru can’t help you in time, huh? I can think of two guys in this room who’d probably do that.” 
It takes a few seconds for you to soak in his words, “….So? What are you getting at?” He opens his mouth but stops from saying something, his pointer finger up but back to a fist. You could tell; whatever he was thinking had him in mental turbulence.
He releases a deep sigh before saying, “I’m just…I’m saying, wouldn’t it be better to have your first kiss with someone you know, at least?”
You couldn’t believe he was saying such things to you. “And…you think you’re the one I should….kiss?”
“….I don’t hear a no.” 
You wanted to refute that statement — challenge him or prove him wrong! You looked at his face, examining every feature to find an indication that whatever he was saying was just a way to get under your skin. He loves to poke fun at you, so why wouldn’t he use this as a perfect opportunity?
However, you couldn’t find anything. His eyes were sincere, stationed right back on yours. You saw his Adam’s apple move from a gulp, letting you know that he was a little nervous, too. And your gaze drifted to his mouth, the thought of his lips being on yours staining your brain for the first time. It was scary to think about, your heart racing to no end. 
“Y/n,” he said your name so quietly that you almost missed it. “Do you trust me?”
What an odd question to ask in this awkward atmosphere. Do you trust Satoru Gojo, the boy you would smack with a given chance? He’s undoubtedly the most annoying person you’ve ever bumped into — a thorn in your side since freshman year. He is such a tactless fool, doing and saying whatever he thinks comes to mind, picking on you like you were a child, and not taking you seriously when you wanted him to. You could list many things that you saw wrong with this guy.
Yet, he wasn’t the worst. There hasn’t been an instance where you felt uncomfortable around him, only annoyance. He was friends with Geto and Shoko; that alone should be enough to tell you he’s someone worth depending on. And even when you two would be tasked to do something together, you’d surely click your tongue and bicker until the cows came home. But at the end of the day, you still knew how to work with one another and get the job done.
In all things considered, Satoru Gojo was an irritant. Even so, he was an irritant you could depend on — to trust. 
Breathing was a hard thing to do, taking in air and exhaling excruciatingly slow. You chew on your bottom lip and give him a curt nod. “I…I trust you, Gojo.”
He lets your answer sink in for a bit before he moves his position, his back to the wall while facing you, legs straight down to the ground. He pats on a thigh, “C’mere.”
Hesitance was there for a split second, but you followed his command and quietly maneuvered your way toward his direction, situating on top of his legs. Of course, you were anxious as hell; your ears and cheeks shared a warmth unbearable to host. Your figure being so close to his, you had to be dreaming. 
But you weren’t. The hands he placed on your waist prove so, earning a gasp to leave you. His voice is low for just the two of you to hear. “Put your hands on my shoulders…Ya scared?” A slow nod is what you give him, and he chuckles lightly. “It’s okay. Try closing your eyes for me. Relax, I’m not gonna do anything dumb.”
He only said that because of that look you gave him. He is going to do something to you — just nothing too rash. 
“Trust me, pretty.”
Pretty? Yes, he just called you pretty. You were used to him calling you dumb names to get you riled up, yet none nearly sweet and fitting the mood like this one. It made your heart skip a beat.
With that, you held back reluctance when closing your eyelids. It made you a little uneasy, unable to see him in front of you, what he was doing, what he looked like while having you on him like this.
Suddenly, you squeak when something softly presses down to your clavicle. It was his lips. 
He snickers, “Ya know, I gotta admit.” He brings his mouth up your neck with kisses, your breath shaking with every peck, and your hands clinging onto his sweatshirt. “It’s kinda nice seeing you be all shy on top of me like this.”
“Go..jo...” you flinch at his soft kiss on your forehead, his hands rubbing your sides.
“Don’t do that. Call me by my first name.” You can feel him bringing a hand to your cheek, caressing your bottom lip gently with his thumb. “I know you know it. I wanna hear it with your voice.”
Holy fuck, this got intense way too fast. He brings his nose close to yours, and you shiver at the contact. It only means he’s mere centimeters away. Thank God your eyes were closed now because you swear you’d turn to stone if you snuck a peek.
“S..Sa…Toru—Mmmph!?“
And there it was, the inexorable. Gojo’s lips fleshed with yours softly, nothing too explicit or unpleasant for you. It was a simple kiss, yet it felt so foreign to you. Your first kiss had been with Satoru Gojo. What a momentous day.
It lasted a few seconds, your body stiff and hands balled to fists nonetheless. He removes from you with a soft noise between your lips, the heat from his face taken with him now that you have space to breathe. You open your eyes for him.
“There ya go,” he says with a small smile, stroking your cheek with his thumb while his forefinger plays with your earlobe. “Was it so bad?”You huffed, shaking your head no. Gojo hums, the hand on your waist gripping your flesh faintly. “….Can I kiss you again?”
Your breath hitched. It was a tiny request. One more wouldn’t hurt, right? You nod, closing your eyes again and awaiting his move.
Gojo leans in and claims your lips again, a soft hum from him when his face is back on yours. The next one was a little more risqué than the last, your bottom lip being taken by his playfully. The third kiss was where the mood dialed to a more wanton plane, him nibbling on your lip to allow him access. It’s here that Gojo can’t contain the reins, removing his glasses, “Come here, cutie.”
And you can’t help yourself either, succumbing to these smooches while wrapping your arms around his neck. Gojo’s no better, snaking his hand to the back of your neck and his other sneaking down to your butt.
You break the kiss to inquire, “Hahhh—…you pervert,” your eyes half-lidded. 
He puffs a laugh, “Whaaat? I thought you’d like me to be touchy.”
You don’t admit anything to him, just slamming your face to his again. You decided to be a little adventurous and lick his lips. Gojo senses the initiative and takes your tongue to suck on. The whimper you let out was too cute, egging him on to suck and tease the muscle more. 
It makes you dwell in the moment more, your limbs no longer stiff, yet your hips subtly move voluntarily. The friction from your groin rubbing on his jean-covered thigh was strangely enticing, your restraint becoming lesser the more you moved. And it gets worse after both Gojo’s hands creep into your skirt and tease your ass with squeezes.
“Ahhh, mmmm, Satoru..” you wailed. 
“Relax, baby,” there it goes again, another cute pet name to call you. He really knew how to get you going. “Let me take care of you….Mmmm”
He shoves his tongue into your mouth – not too forceful to scare you, but enough to get that he is impatient. You moan to his mouth, a hand grabbing tuffs of his snowy hair. 
His nose is pressed to your cheek like yours, and it’s getting harder to breathe now that things are getting intimate. But it all felt good, and the mood was just right. You rub your chasm onto his leg, which he lifts just a bit to make grazing your groin a little better. And God, the way his hands groped your butt, it turned you on even more. 
Ohh fuck, tongues swirl around each other, your head begins to pound, and your ears ring from the heat on your face.. Oh, God, you could feel a hand come up to the top of your stocking, teasing its way down your skin and to the hem of your underwear. Please, please—
BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!!
Even so, everything freezes in time, and both you and Gojo stop whatever you’re doing. Lips still on lips, your ass on his lap, and his middle and forefinger barely grazing the crack of your ass. It’s here that everything hits you all at once: you are not the only one here — you’re not even in your room! You’re still at the party you were dragged into, in some stranger’s bedroom closet, smooching with your supposed most hated person. 
You immediately withdraw from him, Gojo removing his hands from you to put up defensively. Your hands rush to cover your lips, which are wet from spit. A thousand thoughts run around your head. Holy shit, what the hell was I doing!? Did I really just kiss Gojo? Satoru Gojo!? What was I thinking!!?
And Gojo didn’t say anything, only gauging your reaction to see what goes from here. The light from the lava lamp behind you is sheltered, your silhouette drawn to cover the guy in front of you. 
I need to leave. That’s your final thought, taking an immediate stand and storming out of the closet. Utahime noticed you make a beeline to the door, and the roommate pursues right behind you down the stairs. She moves past drunk dudes to grab your wrist, “Y/n! What’s wrong – are you okay?”
It’s time to lie. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just tired, you know.” You lead her to the broom closet where all the initial guests’ jackets were stored. You grab for yours and put it on, “I think I’m just gonna call an Uber and head back to campus before the snowfall.” 
Her face contorts to an expression of worry. “Are you sure? I’ll come with you; this place bugs any—“
“No, no. You don’t have to worry, Uta.” You place a hand on her shoulder before she can move another step. 
“When you say it like that, I can’t help but worry.”
Your lips twinge to a smile to display faux comfort. “It’s okay, really. You don’t have to ruin your fun for me. Besides, I saw some underclassmen waiting to speak with you all night somewhere down here.”
Utahime doesn’t buy it, and you knew she doesn’t. But thankfully, she doesn’t try to fight with you and gives you the okay. She watches you open the door before leaving, “Make sure you call or text me when you get to our dorm!”
It made you laugh; the girl can be such an older sister. “Don’t worry, Shoko’s still there, remember? Cya later, have fun!”
“Bye, be careful!” A final warning to you before the roommate closes the door for you.
You spoke too soon. Now outside, snow was already falling to the ground, probably a few minutes earlier since it wasn’t sticking to the ground yet. The little cold flakes touching the skin of your face were almost remedial, evening out the warmth of your cheeks.
You use this moment to recuperate from what transpired in that house. It was so out of the ordinary and was completely weirding you out, but not in a terrible way. It was more like odd-ish, strange, downright out of the norm. The more you think about it, visiting back to the senses of your hands in his hair, his slender fingers teasing the flesh of your butt, and the pillowy sensation of his lips glued to yours while whispering sweet things…..
….Nope, the cold was not helping at all. There goes the warmness creeping back on your cheeks and ears. Let me hurry and get the fuck out of here, grabbing for your phone and unlocking it to find the Uber app.
“Y/n!”
But before your thumb could press on the application, you instinctively turned around to see the door was open again. And the person who called out to you had your breath come to a complete stop.
Gojo closed the door behind him, coming down the driveway while hurriedly putting on his grey Chesterfield coat. “Fuuuuuck, it got cold quick!”
“G–Gojo!” You stuttered when out by the time he could make it to you. “What’s up? What are you—“
“I saw you weren’t in the bedroom, and Suguru told me you headed downstairs. You could’ve told me you were leaving; that fox with bangs was giving me an earful,” he stuffs his hands in his pockets and then curses. “Fuck, I should’ve checked for my gloves before I left….Anyway, where are you heading off to?” 
You were a little taken aback. “Uhhh, back to the dorms?”
“Great!” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and walks with you down the road. “My car’s over there; let’s hurry before we freeze to death.”
Huh? “Hurry where??”
“Huh? We’re going back to campus, no?”
We!? “Together!?”
“Yeah?”
“Gojo, please!” You promptly removed yourself away from Gojo, standing in front of him. “Why are you doing this? Why are you being all nice now?”
He shrugged “Ehhhh? Are friends not supposed to give friends rides back home?”
“No, not us! We aren’t friends; we’re friends to an extent, remember!?”
“Ahhh, stop being a baby. You act as if you’ve never been in my car before.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Yeah, but not when I’m alone with you, dummy! “C’mon, it’s gonna get colder with this snow.”
“Okay, just—Stop!” Your hands go up to prevent him from getting any closer to you. He stops, the fallen flakes camouflaging with his hair. “Gojo….you understand what just happened back there, right?”
He doesn’t say anything, only a single nod. 
“So, you know that my mind is going at like a hundred miles per hour right now.”
“….Yeah.”
“Okay….So, just please…I need a minute.” Your face goes to your feet to divert your thoughts elsewhere because you don’t know if you could handle looking at the white-haired man for a mere second.
Gojo looks at you mumble to yourself, avoiding him. He releases a deep sigh, walking towards you and lifting a side of his coat to shield you two from the windows of the house party. “…You’re doing it again.”
His shoes come to your direct line of sight, your heart pounding even more. “…Doing what?”
“The thing where you push people out whenever you feel overwhelmed.” You flinch when his finger grazes the back of your palm. “Don’t do that, not right now. I want you to talk to me.”
What is there to talk about? You could’ve said that to throw him off — be avoidant to this whole conversation. But it’s futile after he brings your chin up to face him. 
“Did I make you uncomfortable back there?”
“….No.” 
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I….I don’t know.” Honestly, you did not know. Your mind had too much to go through; so many memories and phrases from moments ago hit you all at once. You’re fighting the urge to tremble — not from the cold, but from overstimulation of brain power and senses.
His eyes are still fixed on you, noting you chewing on your lip. “Come with me.” The sudden revelation quirked your eyebrows up. “Whatever’s going on with you is obviously because of me. So, I’d feel like a dick if I just let you leave because of me. Plus, there’s no way you’re getting an Uber from here. Shit is like $20, I checked.”
“Gojo, I—“ he silences you with a kiss on your forehead. The feel of his lips on your skin again almost made you shut down.
“Sorry,” he whispered while placing his forehead on yours. You never really noticed how tall he was until he did that, your heart skipping again. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”
Picture it: you are out in the cold with Gojo, snow falling down silently onto your figures, him bringing his coat up to shield you from the world. If you were naive enough, you’d mistake this as a scene from a fairy tale. And how he was looking at you, too; his sunglasses were back on, but you could make out the blue orbs that lingered on yours. It’s as if he didn’t want to look at anything else. Just you and only you. 
You don’t know where the hell this side of confidence came from, but you lifted your hands to cup his cheeks and bring him in for another kiss. Cold lips instantaneously warm up at each other’s contact, Gojo leaning into your touch more. 
Snow continues to fall and stick, and the music from the house can still be heard from the outside. Yet it doesn’t bother you because it all drowns out in this moment you feel with him. Whatever these feelings you are experiencing are something new — scary, but new. And for some reason, it felt right to have them for him.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
A sheet of white cascades over the university grasses, students’ cars topped with sprinkles of snowflakes, and the lampposts emit a glow that fits the dark, cloudy weather. 
You were back on campus but not in your dorm where you told Utahime you’d be. You did text her when you arrived, so she doesn’t have to worry too much for you. In turn, she texted back that something had come up and is going to another event with Haibara and some other friends. She said she wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning; it sounds like she’s having a good time. 
The same thing goes for Geto, only that the raven-haired boy called Gojo to say he’d be home in the morning because he was getting “private” with someone he met at the party. “Will be back in the morning. Don’t cause a fire alarm like last time, you dork." 
Haibara is supposedly with your roommate, meaning he won’t be back until the morning, either. The only person left to account for would be Nanami, who is currently away for the weekend because he had to visit home to grab last-minute things from break. 
That leaves only you inside their apartment – in Gojo’s room on top of his bed with your top and bra down on the carpeted floor, along with Gojo’s sweatshirt and jeans. His bed is like any other twin bed for college dorms, a little impossible to move around for two people and limited positions. Nonetheless, to start things off slow, you lie comfortably on his bed with your head to his pillow as he crawls above you and works from above.
Gojo is straddled on top of you, kissing your lips and sucking on your tongue, evoking the prettiest wails he’s ever heard. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders while his are busy roaming your body.
The kiss is broken when you gasp at the contact of his pinkie grazing a nipple on your breast. “Ahhnn, Satoru, don’t touch…Mmmph!”
“Hmmm, what, gorgeous?” He places his lips from your chin down to your neck, sucking on your skin and leaving ticklish nibbles. “Don’t touch what?”
“M–My ni—Ohhoo!” He gives the hardened bud a tweeze, and your cry results from the sudden action. 
He chuckles, “So cute.” Kisses travel down from your collarbone, your breasts, and finally, your other unattended nipple. A whimper leaves your lips at the wet sensation of his tongue swirling around the sensitive nob, and you shriek when he takes it into his mouth. The frequent grazes of his teeth and the tongue pushing your nipple to the roof of his mouth — it all felt surreal.
Yet, it wasn’t as surreal as the next thing he was about to do. Sucking on your tit was the perfect distraction for him to sneak a hand down into your pantyhose, sinking it to the lower regions of your underwear. You gasp at the feeling of a digit pressing on the wet spot of your underwear.
“W–Mmmph…’toru, wait…” you pat him on his shoulder to get his attention, yet he doesn’t lift from your breast yet. “Don’t—Stop, it’s embarrassing—Khhmm!“ Shivers shoot up your spine after Gojo uses his middle and forefinger to go in between your panty-covered folds. Your wetness sticks onto him the more he rubs. 
Gojo lets go of your nipple with one last suck, the cool air chilling the wet bud. “Awww, is my lil’ princess shy?” You could only answer in pants and puffs, his blue eyes surveying your entire body laid out for him. “Heh, shit, you look so good...Hmm? Hey, you got a tear down here.”
“Huh?” You follow his eyes down to your tights, bringing your attention to a worn-down incision where Gojo’s hand is between the material and your underwear. It must’ve been from when I was grinding on him earlier today…
The snow-haired boy removes his hand from inside your tights and uses both to make the rip bigger. Your eyes shot wide, “Wha—What are you doing?”
“Making it easier to see your pussy.” He continues to tear a hole big enough for the damp spot of your pussy to be prevalent. 
Your face dials up in warmth at the vulgar word. “You could’ve just taken them off, you idiot…”
“Pssh, that’s no fun. Besides,” Gojo uses a thumb to remove the panty barrier to reveal what he’s wanted to see the moment you crawled up on his bed. Your bare cunt, wet substance glistening the pretty folds of your labia. He bites his lip. “I’ve been dying to see this pretty thing you’ve been hiding from me.”
Your hands rush to cover up your vagina, “D-Don’t say such embarrassing things, Gojo!”
“Hey, hey, let me see it,” his hands are used to pull yours aside, your slit throbbing from his gaze without your control. “And what did I say about calling me by my last name?”
It was a force of habit, dummy. “...Just be gentle, okay, Satoru?”
He beams a smile at you, the dimples on his cheek prevalent with his childish manner. “I will, princess! Now, what’s goin’ on here…” 
He ditches his head down to your chasm, giving the inviting genitalia a slow lick up to your clitoris. You bucked your hips in shock, jerking at the sudden intrusion of his tongue situating between your slit. He uses his hands to keep your legs still while he sucks and teases your vagina.
You grab for his hair, “—Khhaa!! Ohhh, ohhfuckkk, Satoru, no—Ohhh!!” Your eyes screw shut, mouth open to let your cries fly out. 
It only pushes Gojo to keep going, his tongue ravaging your folds as if he’s going to lick you clean. And when he sucks on clit? Holy fuck, you could’ve sworn your soul left your body right there and then.
“Satoruuu!! Ohhhshit, ohhhh…Mmmph,” the noises that come from the commotion below of Gojo’s tongue lapping and slurping your essence were so pornographic to the ears as if they’d melt on the spot. “Oh, God, I’m gonna cum, I think I’m gonna…Nnmmph!”
Gojo hears you; that’s why he removes his mouth from your clit before you can experience your orgasm. You throw an unsatisfied whine at him, a shit-eating grin apparent on his face. “Sorry, cutie. But I wanna have a feel for you first.” He straightens his posture and spreads your legs for him. You follow his hands that land at the hem of his boxer briefs, where a tent protrudes until his erection is sprung out with one fell swoop.
The erect limb you gawked at was definitely something you weren’t mentally prepared enough to see. Your eyes take in every single detail you can: from his pink tip, where precum exudes from the urethra down to the underside of his cock, to the long body curved slightly to the left. A whole living a breathing dick — and it’s Gojo’s dick, of all things. It was oddly pretty, you had to admit. 
“Ya ready?” You snap back to reality when Gojo calls out to you as he scoots forward to you after putting the condom on, the cockhead aligning with your labia. You hold your breath at the proximity, “Listen to me, Y/n. Since this is your first time, I need you to take deep breaths and try to relax for me. Think you can do that for me?” You sigh through your nostrils, but you nod. “Heh, good. Now stay still, and let me know if it hurts, okay, princess?”
He lightly pushes his glans to your labia, swirling it around to warm you up before kissing the entrance of your vagina. He begins to propel into you, and you begin to brace yourself for the pain that accompanies his insertion. You grab the pillowcase, your teeth clinging to your bottom lip as tears well up. But you remind yourself to breathe, drawing out as much of an exhale for Gojo to shove the tip in.
And when it does get in, you release the loudest gasp you’ve ever expressed that night! Your body froze stiffly as Gojo plunged more of his length into you; the curve scraping your side caused such an exhilarating spike in your nerves that your walls immediately began clenching around him. 
Oh fuck, It’s coming, I’m gon— “Ahhhh!”
And just like that, your orgasm that was avoided before came back in seconds., the walls of your slit fluttering on Gojo’s cock like crazy, electric shocks climbing up to your head and pulling you in for a haze.
The sudden contraction of you makes Gojo hiss, “—Fuuuck, you’re gripping me like crazy…! Damn, you feel so fucking good…” He continues to push himself onto you until the base rises your southern lips and grinds his pelvis, which only fuels your screams even more with the overstimulation. “—Khhh! D-Damn…did you cum, baby?”
You can’t even form a proper sentence, your lower half feeling too full to speak, and your figure trembling from the crescendo. 
Your expression has Gojo bend down to laugh. “Never had that happened before. Heh, glad I could make you cum for the first time. Congrats, pretty…” Pillowy lips claim yours again, taking your whines and whimpers as he roughly grinds his hips to you.
Gojo begins moving his hips at a slow pace, letting you adjust to his size and shape. However, the peak has made your entire lower body dial-up in sensitivity, your back arching to him every time your clit is barely touched. Tears have long fallen since he successfully entered inside you.
Jesus, the fucking curve of his shaft was so fucking dangerous! Not only was the feeling of his veins coming to and fro with your inner walls had you twitching, but the way the tip of his cock was scratching and poking every spot that had you humming was so unfair. Especially now, when he changes the rhythm to a faster cadence, you’re bound to come again! 
“Ohooo, ahahhh, Sa-‘toru…! Ughhh, Jesus, it feels so….Hooohhh!!” Your words slurred in between kisses, almost choking on your tongue with the slap of his balls hitting your taint. 
“Yeah, baby…—Ohhh, shit, shit, shiiiit…!” You feel so good to Gojo; he can’t help but slam onto you with all his might. Your nails were causing eclipses on the skin of his shoulders. He didn’t mind; he knew it was because you were feeling good, too. “Hnngh…How’re you feelin’, Y/n? Hmm?”
“—Eeshh!! I–I…don’t know…” Your brain was too mushy to think adequately, too distracted by what was between your legs.
But Gojo wasn’t buying that mess. “Ohoho, I think you do know, sweetie.” The tall silver-haired boy creeps a hand down to your clit to give it a pinch. You scream, your legs wrapping around his hips involuntarily. “How’re you feeling?”
“—Fuuuhucck!! It feels good,” There, you finally said it. “It feels soo good…Hic–pleaseeee, make me feel good, ‘toruuuu!!”
He puts his forehead to yours before kissing it. “God, you’re so fucking, cute…” 
Gojo increases his tempo to an erratic fashion, your howls bouncing off the walls with every plunge of his dick inside you. Your gummy walls clamp onto him while his fingers swipe around your clitoris, and more tears strike down your wet cheeks. 
The familiar tingling sensation from before begins to climb up. Oh, God, it’s happening again. “Ahhooo—OhmyfuckingGooood!! I’m gonna cum again, I’m gonna cummm…! Aiiishh, ahhhhh!!”
And there it goes, your second crescendo hitting you like a wall. Your walls twitch around Gojo’s length again, prompting the man above you to impetuously thrust in a harsh motion, evoking more choked sobs from your puffy lips. And when he dwells into a finish of his own, you can feel his limb pulsate along with your contractions withering away.
The two of you heave and pant close to each other before Gojo slumps his body on your nude figure, allowing him to rest while he pumps his load into your stimulated cunt. The sheets beneath you stick to your sweaty skin, the air of Gojo’s huffs tickling your neck. 
When you feel your body subsided from the excitement, you two turn to each other. Noses touching each other, eyes locked into each other’s stares. 
“….So,” he’s the first to speak in a whisper. “…What does this make us?”
His eyes were so alluring to look at, like looking at the most beautiful azure gems in your adjacency. “…I’ll punch you if you say I’m your girlfriend.”
That has him chuckling in shaky breathes. “Fair enough, but it’d be dumb if we didn't talk after this.”
A curt nod in agreement, “…Is there a thing called frenemies-with-benefits?”
“Pfft, I don’t know, but why not? I wouldn’t mind.” Gojo then decides to get up and finally remove himself from you, slowly taking out his cock with the condom. The bed creaks when he leaves to remove the plastic and wrap it to discard it. “You okay?”
You ponder for a few seconds before coming to an honest answer. “I think so…My pantyhose isn’t fine, though, you fiend.” 
He flashes another smile at you, his dimples taking your heart away. “Yeah, yeah, sorry about that. I’ll get you another pair.”
“You better.” 
BZZZT!! BZZZT!! BZZZT!!
Before you could get off the bed, a vibration came from Gojo’s dresser top. It was his phone, the caller ID reading as “punk-boy bangy wannabe” 
You blink and give the phone to Gojo after he puts his sweatshirt back on. With raised brows, he says, “It’s Suguru?” His thumb presses the green button before bringing the device to his ear while he puts his limp dick back in his boxers. “Yo. Wassup?”
“Okay, good, you picked up. I’m getting in the elevator right now to grab something from the room real quick. Open the door for me, will ya?”
The white-haired roommate couldn’t express his shock in time because Geto ended the call before he could have the chance. He turns to you slowly, and you can tell whatever he’s going to say isn’t good based on that dumb look on his face. “Suguru's coming up…now.”
Panic spiked up as it rightfully should. You were still braless and topless, for Christ’s sake! And wearing torn tights!? Something you did not want Geto to see in the likes of his and Gojo’s room. “W–What should I do?!”
Gojp quickly scans the room for a plan, immediately pointing to a door to his right. “Hide in my closet!” He hurries to grab the door open. “Quick, grab your clothes and get in here!”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake…!” You grab for everything in your direct line of sight, making a straight beeline to the closet when you’ve got everything. “Don’t forget my shoes at the front; just quickly hide them somewhere!”
“Okay, okay—“
“I’m serious, Gojo! Do not do anything stupid!”
“I heard you, jeez.” He watches you move around the closet, moving his shoes to one side while trying to hide behind one of his suits. Jesus, you looked real cute even when you were scared. “…Hey.”
You peer up at him, moving his blazer so he could see your complete face. “What?”
“Be careful not to leave your panties here ‘cause I might not give them back.”
The last thing Gojo saw within that second was one of his dress shoes thrown dead at his face. His hands come to his stinging nose and cheek, exclaiming at the pain with a loud groan. “Fucking pervert, quit playing dumb games and get my shoes!”
I take it fucking back. He slams the closet door closed. “So uncute…”
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literaila · 10 days
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it's not my fault
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: tsumiki and megumi get into an argument
warnings: sibling stuff, fluff, two oblivious (stupid) parents
last part | next part
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*
year five.
“couldn’t you say something nice?” tsumiki is asking megumi when you walk in. “she just wanted to—“ 
you set your bag on the table, just barely able to make out their words. 
they were... quiet in the car, you realize suddenly. but you hadn't thought that anything was wrong. megumi's typically burnt out after school, and tsumiki waits until you all get home to start telling you about her day. 
but it only took a minute of you running back out to the car to grab something for it all to fall apart. 
megumi groans. “i don’t even know her.” 
you round the corner, just stopping there so you can observe. neither of them seem to notice you, or your wide eyes at both of their stances. the matching scowls on their faces. 
they look so similar that it shocks you just briefly. 
tsumiki has her arms crossed, shaking her head. “you still don’t need to be mean about it.” 
“i wasn’t mean.” 
“yes, you were. you told her to leave you alone.” 
“that seems like a pretty straightforward request.” 
“everyone at school thinks you’re mean,” tsumiki is pouting, looking dishearted at his reaction. typically, megumi will agree with her just for the sake of it. “and i always have to defend you, even if it’s true.” 
megumi sighs, shrugging. he's got his satoru-type scowl on, and even though he looks disinterested--as usual--you can see it when his frown deepens, and he shifts away from tsumiki. “well, stop then. i don’t need you to come to my rescue. i don’t care what people say.” 
“well, i do! you’re my brother.” 
“that doesn’t mean you have to treat me like your responsibility. i can handle myself.” 
“you’re always alone at school,” tsumiki disputes, almost whining at him. “if you were nicer—“ 
“i’ve never complained—“ 
“okay,” you turn the corner, brows already raised. “there’s a lot of raised voices going on. you two are going to wake up the neighbor's cat.” 
tsumiki is pouting at megumi and he just rolls his eyes. both children stand facing each other, standoffish in the living room, arms crossed. 
usually, they fight about what movie to watch, or who got to sit in the front seat last. 
but those fights don’t typically involve yelling. 
sure, they’re both sensitive about their childhood. about living here and being with you and satoru. they'll bicker about being little, megumi hating it when tsumiki mentions either of their biological parents, and tsumiki hating it when he refuses to listen.
but even then, tsumiki goes to hide, and megumi just shuts down. 
this seems… different. 
a part of you rationalizes that they're both exhausted from school and getting to that age where their priorities differ. 
you don't have any siblings, but you quarreled enough with nanami and haibara back at school to know how these types of arguments work. 
and unless one of them admits that they're wrong, it's never going to end. 
with that thought in mind, you put on a learned smile, standing between the two of them so you can look back and forth between the two children, observing both of their very closed-off body language. 
it's a little cute, honestly. they both look very different, but their matching stances and glares are worth much more than biology. you almost want to stop them to take a picture. 
satoru would do it if he was here. 
“tough crowd,” you say, feeling the tension between the two. “what’s going on?” 
“nothing,” they both say, at the same time, but megumi with an attitude and tsumiki with a sniffle. 
really, you should find a book about expressing emotions. you and satoru are teaching them far too much about denial and avoidance. 
you make a mental note to look it up later. 
you blow out a breath. “yeah, well, i heard the yelling, but i’m missing some context."
you look between the two of them, but they’re not looking back. both sets of eyes are focused on each other, identical glares bouncing off of each other. they could be communicating in some secret language and you would have no idea. 
in fact, you can basically see the thoughts they're forcing towards each other on their faces. 
“hey,” you poke them both on the forehead at the same time, trying to get their attention on you. “talk to me. what happened?” 
they both remain still as statues for a moment, not bothering to consider the question. 
but after a moment, tsumiki blinks, and her frown increases, which makes megumi roll his eyes--like he already knows what she's going to say, and doesn't care. 
“megumi was mean to a girl at school,” tsumiki says, finally looking at you with big doe eyes. her face is pained, confused, and worried. 
and honestly, she could ask you for anything with that look and you'd give it to her. 
but megumi sighs. “i wasn’t mean.” 
“you told her not to talk to you!” 
he looks to you, less pleading but confident. “if i want space, shouldn’t i tell someone that? isn't that what you say?” 
you open your mouth. “well, it depends, megs, you can’t—“ 
“you’re always mean,” tsumiki’s eyes are filling with tears. she looks at you too. and usually, she would apologize for interrupting, but not right now. “nobody at school wants to be around him. he scares everyone, and they don’t believe me when i say that he’s nice.” 
“tsumiki," you begin, face softening, "you shouldn’t—“ 
“that doesn’t make me mean. why would i want to hang out with people who don’t like me?” 
you turn, “megumi—“ 
“they would like you if you weren’t always saying mean things!” tsumiki tells him, her sweet voice rough with frustration. the tears begin to slip from her eyes. 
and you can feel it when megumi moves another inch away, wanting to flinch back from her sadness the same way you do. 
“i don’t want them to like me,” megumi corrects, shaking it off. “i don’t care what they think.” 
tsumiki frowns even deeper, eyes growing wide. “what about what i think?” she asks him.
“are you going to stop hanging out with me?” 
“maybe.” 
“how? we literally live in the same house. your room is down the hall from mine.”
“guys—“ 
“i’ll ask dad to move rooms. he won’t mind.” 
“oh, sure. because you’ll be able to avoid me at the dinner table—“ 
“why are you always—“ 
“guys.” 
they both look to you, glares immensely misplaced. their mouths are still open, ready to interrupt each other at a moment's notice. 
you look between them, finding matching pictures on either side. clearly, they're both upset about something different. and still, you don't really understand, but it doesn't seem like they're going to explain anything further. 
why would they when they can just keep arguing?
you purse your lips, closing your eyes for a moment, trying not to laugh. 
really, if they wanted you to take them seriously they shouldn’t have grown up to be so cute. they shouldn't look like that. 
harsh, angry breaths fill the room as the two of them wait for your instruction. you should probably be able to fix this problem immediately--you could by sending them both to their rooms and forcing them apart--but you'd rather talk this through. 
plus you don't want either of them to think too hard about any of it. you hate it when you fight with satoru and take a break, just to linger in that anger like a quicksand you can’t pull out of. 
“okay,” you say, once there’s a moment of silence. “i know you’re both upset.” 
“i’m not—“ you look at megumi and he stops, little frown on his little face. his cheeks are red in indignation, and he's got clenched fists. you can tell that he wants to say something, maybe to you, maybe to tsumiki, but he won't.
you ruffle his hair. “it’s fine to be upset with each other,” you tell him, looking to tsumiki, her face entirely sad. “but going back and forth isn’t going to solve the problem, okay? and neither is saying anything just to hurt each other's feelings.” 
“but he just—“ you shake your head, wishing with everything in you that you could go get one of satoru’s blindfolds right now. 
it physically hurts to look at them, they're so precious. 
you are a terrible mother for finding this moment slightly amusing. to be fair, you spend far too much time with satoru, and deflection is a family trait. 
you finger tsumiki’s hair, pushing it from her eyes. “should we take a break?” you ask them both. “or do you want to talk about it now?”
“break,” megumi says, immediately.
“talk about it now,” tsumiki answers, at the same time. 
for two people who are so alike, they sure think differently. you want to smile at the very predictable answers but refrain.
“okay…” you pause, thinking. “tsumiki, why don’t you tell us why you’re upset? megumi will do the same, and then we can take a break, or keep going.” 
they both glare at each other. 
“and nothing mean," you add because it feels necessary. 
tsumiki sniffs. “everyone at school says that you’re cruel,” she tells him, a devastating pout on her face. “and i don’t like that. you’re my brother, and i want people to like you like i do.” 
you both look at megumi, waiting. 
he's silent for a moment, processing his sister's words, but then he’s got a scowl on his face. “i don’t care what they think, they’re all stupid anyway—“ 
“megumi.” 
he looks at you, pleading blue eyes. you can see that tsumiki got under his skin, but you shake your head. 
“see?” tsumiki complains, voice high-pitched. “he’s always—“ 
you wipe away a tear, nodding. “i know, sweetie, but it’s his turn. you can go next.”
you turn to megumi, wanting to laugh at his annoyed face. “don’t call your classmates names," you say, giving him a look. "it's your turn. tell tsumiki why you’re upset, megumi.” 
he sighs again, looking towards the floor. he kicks at the hardwood, shaking his head. “i don’t like it when you baby me. i don’t need you to defend me, or try and take care of me at school. i’m fine.” 
tsumiki swallows, not saying anything. 
you look between the two of them, trying to read the complex emotions of your almost-teenagers. unfortunately, they're closed off from you, and you can only guess. 
both of your hands rest on one of their shoulders, squeezing. “do you both want to answer? or should we sit down for a bit? i can make a snack or something. it might be good to cool off." 
you say it mostly for yourself, because, honestly, any second you're going to break. 
the two children look at each other, communicating telepathically, and then they nod.
“you should treat everyone respectfully,” tsumiki says, as an answer. “even if you don’t care what they think, you should still be nice.” 
megumi frowns. “if i don’t want to talk to someone, i shouldn’t have to.” 
“but you just told her to go away. she probably feels bad now, and—“ 
“i don’t even know her," megumi interrupts, brows furrowing. 
okay, so maybe you should've separated them a couple of minutes ago. 
“chiyo's my friend!” 
megumi rolls his eyes. “just because she’s your friend doesn’t mean she has to be mine.” 
“but you were mean.” 
you look between the two of them, megumi annoyed and tsumiki frustrated. 
“okay, kids.” you breathe out, wishing you had a brother to fight with, just so you knew what it felt like. just so you could be a part of this argument. “i know you’re both mad, and you disagree. that’s fine. let’s take some space, breathe, maybe i can—“
“just because you think i was being mean doesn’t mean that i was," megumi blurts out, like he can't hold it in.  
you pause, mouth opening. you're about to say something, but you don't get the chance.
“if everyone doesn’t like you,” tsumiki argues, “then it’s because you’re mean.” 
“maybe they just suck.” 
“they don’t suck. this is—“
and then it all breaks down.
“well well,” satoru peeks his head around the corner, white hair a shock to all three of you. “look who’s falling apart without me.”
you sigh immediately, a hand against your temple. of course he would come in at the worst moment possible. “satoru, please go back out the door. i'm sure you forgot something at the store."
the two kids look at satoru, neither one of them happy to see him. there's a similar fire in their eyes, and you know that if he hadn't shown up they would've continued arguing until you pulled them apart. 
he walks over to you, slinging an arm across your shoulder. his grin is far too self-satisfactory. "what'd you do?" he asks, tapping you. 
"i didn't do anything," you tell him, "leave them alone. they're working it out." 
"by yelling at each other?" 
you push his arm off of you, glaring. "you just walked in at a bad moment--" 
you say something else, telling him to get out again, and satoru laughs back at you, asking if you missed him, and neither of you seems to realize that the two kids are just staring at you.
megumi and tsumiki share a look, like this is a typical occurrence (it is), then shake their heads at the same time, like an echo of each other. 
their faces have cooled, scowls fading as you and satoru bicker. 
tsumiki sighs and megumi scratches the back of his neck, and for a moment, they both avoid each other's eyes. 
but eventually, you and satoru look back at them. 
"i don't want to talk anymore," megumi tells all of you, beginning to walk away. satoru tries to grab the back of his shirt to keep him in place, but megumi just shrugs him off. 
and then he walks down the hallway to his room and closes the door gently, clearly no longer bothered by anything tsumiki said. or maybe too bothered. 
but, you think, at least he didn't slam the door. 
you can recall yourself telling satoru to give him space, to let megumi deal with his emotions as he pleases before you force him back into the spotlight, to apologize or hug tsumiki, or... 
you blink and look back at her. she's still got a small pout on her face, but her eyes have relaxed, as red-rimmed as they are. you know, and tsumiki knows, that she's really just worried about him. trying to protect him in her own, sisterly way. 
and, really, there's not much you can teach her about that. 
so you just smile gently at tsumiki, wiping away some moisture from her face. "just give him a bit, hmm? let him think." 
she sighs but relaxes into your hand for a moment, her shoulders slouching as she gives into defeat. and then tsumiki shrugs at you, agreeing despite herself, and walks over to satoru to give him half of a hug. 
it's not a moment later that she follows megumi and walks down the hall, escaping to her room. you both listen as her door closes.
"wow," satoru whispers, shaking his head. "you did a number on them." 
"they had a fight about school," you say, nudging him. "i had no part in any of it. i just walked in." 
he wraps two arms around the back of your neck, smiling eagerly at you. "so what you're saying is, it isn't your fault?" 
he's mocking himself, and the reoccurring events that happen when you leave him in charge. which you've sworn to never do again, by the way. 
you scoff. "when i get home you've started all the problems," you tell him, shaking your head. "they're fighting because you instigated something." 
"we're communicating." 
"whatever."
satoru quirks a brow at you, eyes just barely visible behind his glasses. "the parenting books aren't doing much for you, are they?" he asks, rhetorically. 
"you realize i caught you with those in your room multiple times right? i know you read them." 
"you'll never prove it," he says, smiling maliciously. 
"and neither will your parenting skills." 
satoru snorts, nudging his nose against yours in an odious way. "clearly, you guys can't last a day without me." 
"it wasn't a day," you argue, shivering at his touch. "more like an hour. you just went to the store..." you pause, tilting your head at him. "and where are the groceries, by the way?" 
satoru looks away, hands tapping on the back of your neck, humming innocently. "oh, i might've... slightly misplaced those." 
"satoru." 
"i got distracted--but it's not my fault. there's a new kakigori shop down the block." 
you look at him blandly. 
satoru, because he cannot be trusted, smiles sweetly at you as he places a peck on your lips, as a sort of apology. 
obviously, you don't return it. not even in the slightest.
satoru hums as he pulls back, already knowing that he's won. "so, i'll just get dinner..." he says, grinning at you. 
you roll your eyes but wrap your hands around his neck, letting a little smile fall across your face. 
*
you and satoru are sitting on the couch when you see megumi creeping down the hall, on his tiptoes, purposefully not looking at the two of you. 
it's been an hour or two, the silence echoing across the house almost a bad omen. 
but you decided not to bother either of them. considering the fact that you still don't know why they were really fighting, or why they didn't just talk about it like they usually would, it seemed like the best option. 
and also, satoru shouldn't be involved in any conflict resolution. he'd probably suggest wrestling it out in the backyard. 
still, as you watch him pass by, you lean away from satoru, your legs completely tangled in his. you stretch your neck to watch him, relying on satoru's hand around your waist to keep you steady, but he's too far down the hall for you to see where he's going. 
but a moment later, you hear him knock on a door, and then a small, quiet voice telling him to come in. 
you relax back against satoru, already grinning proudly. "see? i fixed it." 
satoru laughs, his breath soft against your temple. "you didn't do anything. megumi just felt guilty." 
"well, i taught him that." 
satoru noses the side of your head. "mmm, i'm pretty sure i did." 
"of course you didn't." 
he shakes you a little, as a punishment for your words, but sighs. "what were they fighting about anyway?" 
"megumi was mean to one of tsumiki's friends, i think. i missed... pretty much all of it." 
"who?" 
you frown. "chiyo?" 
satoru snorts a little, and you shift to look at him, raising your brow. "megumi mentioned her."
you turn even more, eyes wide. you poke his cheek with a finger, and then wave for him to continue.  
satoru groans, fingers trailing through your hair. "he said that he overheard some girls talking about 'miki." 
"behind her back?" 
satoru smiles, a bit sadly, nodding. 
"oh." 
"yeah, oh." 
you frown. “what did they say?”
satoru licks his lips, watching your eyes as you concentrate on him. “dunno. megumi wouldn’t tell me.”
you roll your eyes. “of course not,” you say, sighing. “and he didn’t tell her?”
satoru winces. "okay, so… maybe i told him not to,” he whispers, like a confession, voice going a bit high at the end. and then he laughs at your annoyed expression. "what? i didn't want her to get sad." 
you shake your head at him, tsking. 
you could scold him for protecting tsumiki, but you know that you probably would've done the same. 
so you just turn back towards the hallway, resting your head against his shoulder. after a moment, satoru nuzzles himself into your neck, humming against your skin. 
it's a very unpleasant feeling. 
"do you think i should go get them for dinner?" you ask him, quietly. 
"nah," he kisses the side of your neck, looking down the hall with you. "give them a little while." 
and it's about twenty minutes later that the two siblings walk back into the living room, megumi's lip quirked at tsumiki, and tsumiki beaming back.
after all, you and satoru have taught them well. 
*
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communistkenobi · 2 months
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when trans men on this site fall back on their “feminine biology” in arguments about transandrophobia, usually to argue that we as trans men can never experience male privilege because our “sex” means we’ll never be seen as men in society (and therefore we have a ~natural lifelong relationship~ to misogyny that trans women will never be able to understand), this itself is a demonstration of male privilege - if we are not men we can at least still be women, still be seen as human. we have access to humanity through this dual gender citizenship, and this rhetorical strategy places trans women in an impossible position where they either must concede they’re “really men” because of their own “biology,” (denying the existence of transmisogyny altogether) or concede that they have no gender at all (denying the existence of their humanity). trans men will misgender themselves and still retain their humanity through appeals to their “biological feminity,” and this misgendering is seen as an acceptable sacrifice in the maintenance of their humanity, but trans women have nowhere to go, they are cornered, caught in a double denial of their experience as women and their existence as human beings. trans men can victimise themselves through an appeal to nature without actually experiencing dehumanisation precisely as a way to dehumanise trans women. like funnily enough tme trans people, but trans men especially, are the only people who can really be misgendered - trans women don’t even get the privilege of being misgendered, they just get ungendered, converted into a subhuman animal. they have nowhere to go but hell
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By: Colin Wright
Published: May 3, 2023
The transgender movement has left many intelligent Americans confused about sex. Asked to define the word “woman” during her Supreme Court confirmation hearings last year, Ketanji Brown Jackson demurred, saying “I’m not a biologist.” I am a biologist, and I’m here to help.
Are sex categories in humans empirically real, immutable and binary, or are they mere “social constructs”? The question has public-policy implications related to sex-based legal protections and medicine, including whether males should be allowed in female sports, prisons and other spaces that have historically been segregated by sex for reasons of fairness and safety.
Chase Strangio of the American Civil Liberties Union frequently claims that the binary concept of sex is a recent invention “exclusively for the purposes of excluding trans people from legal protections.” Scottish politician Maggie Chapman asserted in December that her rejection of the “binary and immutable” nature of sex was her motivation for pursuing “comprehensive gender recognition for nonbinary people in Scotland.” (“Nonbinary” people are those who “identify” as neither male nor female.)
When biologists claim that sex is binary, we mean something straightforward: There are only two sexes. This is true throughout the plant and animal kingdoms. An organism’s sex is defined by the type of gamete (sperm or ova) it has the function of producing. Males have the function of producing sperm, or small gametes; females, ova, or large ones. Because there is no third gamete type, there are only two sexes. Sex is binary.
Intersex people, whose genitalia appear ambiguous or mixed, don’t undermine the sex binary. Many gender ideologues, however, falsely claim the existence of intersex conditions renders the categories “male” and “female” arbitrary and meaningless. In “Hermaphrodites and the Medical Invention of Sex” (1998), the historian of science Alice Dreger writes: “Hermaphroditism causes a great deal of confusion, more than one might at first appreciate, because—as we will see again and again—the discovery of a ‘hermaphroditic’ body raises doubts not just about the particular body in question, but about all bodies. The questioned body forces us to ask what exactly it is—if anything—that makes the rest of us unquestionable.”
In reality, the existence of borderline cases no more raises questions about everyone else’s sex than the existence of dawn and dusk casts doubt on day and night. For the vast majority of people, their sex is obvious. And our society isn’t experiencing a sudden dramatic surge in people born with ambiguous genitalia. We are experiencing a surge in people who are unambiguously one sex claiming to “identify” as the opposite sex or as something other than male or female.
Gender ideology seeks to portray sex as so incomprehensibly complex and multivariable that our traditional practice of classifying people as simply either male or female is grossly outdated and should be abandoned for a revolutionary concept of “gender identity.” This entails that males wouldn’t be barred from female sports, women’s prisons or any other space previously segregated according to our supposedly antiquated notions of “biological sex,” so long as they “identify” as female.
But “intersex” and “transgender” mean entirely different things. Intersex people have rare developmental conditions that result in apparent sex ambiguity. Most transgender people aren’t sexually ambiguous at all but merely “identify” as something other than their biological sex.
Once you’re conscious of this distinction, you will begin to notice gender ideologues attempting to steer discussions away from whether men who identify as women should be allowed to compete in female sports toward prominent intersex athletes like South African runner Caster Semenya. Why? Because so long as they’ve got you on your heels making difficult judgment calls on a slew of complex intersex conditions, they’ve succeeded in drawing your attention away from easy calls on unquestionably male athletes like 2022 NCAA Division I women’s swimming and diving champion Lia Thomas. They shift the focus to intersex to distract from transgender.
Acknowledging the existence of rare difficult cases doesn’t weaken the position or arguments against allowing males in female sports, prisons, restrooms and other female-only spaces. In fact, it’s a much stronger approach because it makes a crucial distinction that the ideologues are at pains to obscure.
Crafting policy to exclude males who identify as women, or “trans women,” from female sports, prisons and other female-only spaces isn’t complicated. Trans women are unambiguously male, so the chances that a doctor incorrectly recorded their sex at birth is zero. Any “transgender policy” designed to protect female spaces need only specify that participants must have been recorded (or “assigned,” in the current jargon) female at birth.
Crafting effective intersex policies is more complicated, but the problem of intersex athletes in female sports is less pressing than that of males in female sports, and there seem to be no current concerns arising from intersex people using female spaces. It should be up to individual organizations to decide which criteria or cut-offs should be used to keep female spaces safe and, in the context of sports, safe and fair. It is imperative, however, that such policies be rooted in properties of bodies, not “identity.” Identity alone is irrelevant to issues of fairness and safety.
Ideologues are wrong to insist that the biology of sex is so complex as to defy all categorization. They’re also wrong to represent the sex binary in an overly simplistic way. The biology of sex isn’t quite as simple as common sense, but common sense will get you a long way in understanding it.
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shellyshellshell · 5 months
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What Denial Brings
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Attn: Werewolf Sherlock coming in hot!!! @mrsevans90 and I collaborated on this one. She had so many good ideas and I did my best to write it so I hope you’re proud of me friend lol. I hope you all enjoy it as well 😊
Word Count: 3,490
Pairing: Alpha!Sherlock Holmes x Omega!Female Detective Reader
Summary: You join Sherlock to work on a case, your investigation having overlapped with his.
Warnings: 18+, mentions of murder/murder investigation related things, A/B/O dynamics, scenting, bit of manhandling, rough/primal sex (p in v), knoting, marking, mating, a little angst (guilt, fear of being rejected), nursing
You sat on the train anxiously awaiting to arrive at your destination. You’d heard of the exceptional Mr. Sherlock Holmes as pretty much everyone had, but to be able to work with him had you a bit nervous. The case you were working overlapped with his so it only made sense. When he’d caught wind of your investigation, he sent after you.
You were approaching and quickly searched your bag for your suppressants. You took two, swallowing them down with a glass of water to assure your omega scent was toned down and your heat kept at bay. The last thing you wanted when working with an alpha was to unexpectedly go into heat or to send him into a rut. The suppressants had always worked wonders though thankfully.
Once stopped, you collected your bags and exited the train to look for him. You knew where to go before even truly looking, the strong scent of alpha overtaking your senses. You had to get hold of yourself, it being so strong, smelling so good, it made your head spin.
“Mr. Holmes,” you said as you approached. “Can I help you?,” he questioned. “Yes it’s… it’s me,” you said as you introduced yourself. His eyes widened in surprise as he took your waiting hand in his much larger one. “You didn’t expect me to be a lady,” you said softly. “Well your boss… Henderson, he’d only referred to you by last name,” he said. “You’re disappointed,” you said. “No! No, not at all. Just surprised. Let me get those bags for you,” he said as he took them from your hands. You smiled softly at him as he led you to the awaiting carriage. Ever the gentleman, he loaded your bags and helped you up onto the seat.
What you didn’t know is he was in fact, slowly losing his mind with you sitting there beside him. He could tell you used suppressants but you smelled absolutely perfect, like honeysuckles on a spring day. He wanted to pull you close and bury his head in your neck, breathe you in, taste you to… to… No. he was being ridiculous. He was a logical man and this was completely illogical. You couldn’t be… but still.
He couldn’t help but smile softly as he took in your side profile. So beautiful and sweet. He turned forward and reminding himself you two had a job to do. He was too smart to get wrapped up in his instincts. He’d been doing fine all these years and wasn’t going to let his biology get in the way of what needed to be done.
“I hope this room is to your liking as it’s yours as long as you’re here,” he told you as he carried your bags in and sat them down. “It’s just fine, Mr. Holmes, thank you,” you told him. “No need for such formalities, darling, seeing we’ll be working together. You can call me Sherlock, if you like,” he told you. “Sherlock,” you replied with a smile. He found himself smiling softly again. “Would you like some tea? Then we can compare notes on this case. Hopefully get this madman off the streets,” he said. “Sounds lovely,” you replied as you grabbed your briefcase and followed him to his study.
He poured your tea and offered you some biscuits as well. You sat sipping it carefully while nibbling at the biscuits. “So this is what I’ve found,” he said as he sat at his desk. You came to his side, standing over the notes he’d taken quickly reading them over. “Yes, I have very similar findings,” you told him before going after your notes. “See this is the exact same. It has to be him, yes?,” you asked. “I would say so,” he agreed.
You moved to sit at the chair in front of his desk then reached for another set of notes to compare. As you did, you and Sherlock’s fingers brushed against one another’s. At his touch you felt your heart race. “Sorry,” you said quietly. “No harm done”, he breathed, though his heart hammered in his chest at a simple touch. A simple touch that made him wish for so much more. “Stupid,” he mumbled to himself. “I’m sorry?,” you asked. “Nothing, darling,” he replied.
The next day there was another body so the two of you went to investigate. When you arrived, people already expected Sherlock. He was met with very little resistance, but they were confused as to why you were there. “She’s working the case with me,” he’d told an officer. “Really? A woman?,” he laughed. Sherlock gave him a stern look and he flinched. “Come darling. Pay no mind to this ignorance,” he said. You followed behind, feeling giddy at the officer’s reaction and Sherlock’s words.
The body had already been taken so the two of you would go to the coroner’s office afterwards but you wanted to search for clues here in the mean time. Sherlock was on one side of the room and you the other. You scoured every inch but found nothing. When you turned you were met with Sherlock’s big blue eyes. “Find something?,” you asked. “No, nothing,” he replied. “Let’s exchange sides just to be certain neither of us have missed anything,” you suggested. “Alright,” he agreed.
When you went to his side, not two feet from where he had been standing was a bloody handprint. “Um… Sherlock?,” you said hesitantly. “Yes?,” he replied. “Did you not notice this here?,” you questioned. He came to your side and looked as you pointed. “I- I suppose I didn’t,” he replied. A light blush crept up his cheeks, which you found quite cute. You giggled lightly. “No worries Sherlock. Did they find a murder weapon?,” you asked. “They did not,” he replied. “Y- you don’t think this person killed our victim with their bare hands? I know the others had extensive injuries and a weapon wasn’t found either,” you shuddered. “That would be… something,” he pondered.
When you went to the morgue Sherlock asked if you’d like to stay outside. “What do you think?,” you asked him. You had never actually seen a dead body before, just read the reports, which were quite graphic in theirselves. “It would make me feel better if you waited darling. They have been really bad. If it was something milder I think it would be fine, but I feel this would disturb you deeply. It’s completely your choice, though,” he said. “I’ll wait for you,” you replied. He nodded before heading in.
The next month the two of you worked, things going about the same. You two were spending a lot of time together and you grew to know more about one another as time went on, but you couldn’t help to feel the longer you stayed the more distracted Sherlock seemed. He was constantly missing clues, and you’d catch him staring at you more often times than not when the two of you were supposed to be taking notes to compare later, when he was supposed to be looking for clues, or even when you had downtime in his home.
“Sherlock is me being here actually helpful?,” you asked him one evening. “Of course. Whatever do you mean darling?,” he asked confusedly. “I don’t know. We don’t seem to be making much progress,” you said, not wanting to bring up the feeling you were distracting him. “These things just take time. It’s difficult when there’s not much to go by. You have been great though darling, truly,” he assured you with a light touch of his hand over yours. There your heart went again. He let it linger for a moment before moving his away. “Alright. What next’s on the agenda then?,” you asked. “I thought tomorrow we’d go to speak with some of the victim’s known associates. One place isn’t far from here so I figured if you were up to it we could walk over,” he said. “Sure,” you replied.
The next morning you awoke, took your morning dose of suppressants, dressed and made your way to the kitchen. Sherlock wasn’t there yet so you made the two of you some breakfast. When you were setting the table Sherlock arrived. “Good morning darling. You’ve made breakfast?,” he questioned. “I have. You hungry?,” you asked. “Yes, thank you,” he said politely as he pulled your chair out for you. You hovered above it lightly as he pushed it in for you. “You sleep well darling?,” he asked as you two ate. “I suppose, and you?,” you asked. “Not really. This case…,” he trailed off. “I know what you mean,” you told him. “Hopefully we’ll get some answers today,” he replied.
After breakfast you began your walk. Sherlock’s “not far,” wasn’t particularly your definition of not far, but you did your best to keep up. “You coming darling?,” he asked. “Yes. My legs are shorter than yours, you know?,” you said, making him laugh. “Sorry,” he said as he slowed down. The cool breeze flowed, tousling the loose hairs that framed your face. Sherlock watched in rapture of your beauty, sighing deeply at the sight and smell of you. With each passing day it was becoming more and more difficult to focus on the work. You were just so perfect in every way and so beautiful. Maybe when the case was over perhaps he could court you properly….
The thought left him as soon as you arrived to your destination. You were brought in and asked a few questions which ended up with useful information. All the victims were associated with one particular alpha which was just the lead you needed. The two of you headed back towards 221b Baker Street to get the carriage and ride into town. The both of you elated for finally catching a break. You walked happily until you were nearly halfway there and the bottom fell out of the sky. “Oh,” you shouted as it poured. “Come on,” Sherlock said as he grabbed your hand.
The two of you ran through the rain, trying to get back as quickly as you could but really it was no use, you both were drenched. When you entered Sherlock lead you into the study. When you looked at each other at first you burst into laughter, but then something in the air shifted. You could smell his strong scent radiating off of him, along with something unfamiliar, something potent and earthy you hadn’t smelled on him before. At the same time it seemed as if your wet skin magnified your scent tenfold. Sherlock’s nostrils flared as it overtook his senses.
You realized it was getting near time for your evening doze of suppressants but it was too late. Your flesh set aflame, cramps twisting your stomach as slick began pooling between your legs. That’s when you realized the unfamiliar smell had indicated that Sherlock gone into rut. You’d been near other alphas before, and nearing your time for medication, but none of them had brought on your heat, even at or near their rut. “Mmm,” you whined as you clutched your abdomen. You moved to leave when Sherlock grabbed you by your arms. “Mine,” he growled.
As soon as he said it, you knew it was true. Every bit of you wanted to submit to him, have him touch you, have him take you. “Yours,” you whispered. He crashed his lips into yours in a bruising kiss, devouring you, before quickly ripping your dress to shreds. Every semblance of the gentle, refined man you’d come to know was gone, giving way to the beast inside of him. He swiped across his desk, sending papers flying everywhere before he threw you up onto it. His close were gone within mere seconds and when he stood bare before you, you trembled. You knew later you’d be incredibly sore but still you wanted him.
He slammed into you in one swift movement making you cry out, but that didn’t deter him. He commenced to thrust into you wildly, teeth bared as he grunted above you. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted you my little omega, hmm? I haven’t been able to think straight from the moment we met,” he admitted. All you could do was moan feebly under his brutal thrusts. Deep down you knew this explained everything but you couldn’t think about that now, not with the way he was taking you.
His fingertips dug into your hips hard enough to bruise as he pounded into you. The sound of his grunts, your increasingly loud moans, and the sound of your wet pussy squelching against him filled the room. The sinful symphony was building your arousal steadfastly. “Sherlock,” you keened as you came. “Yes, yes. Good girl. Another,” he told you. You released more slick at his words, your body wanting to give him exactly what he wanted. “You feel so good darling. Tight little pussy of yours. You’re taking your alpha so well,” he groaned. He rubbed your clit with his thumb furiously, sending you into another orgasm.
He snatched you up off the desk and put you on all fours onto the floor. He didn’t even have to ask before you began to present to him. He groaned at the sight before kneeling behind you and slamming back into you. Before it was over he had you laid flat on the floor as he straddled your ass, arms wrapped tightly around your chest, with his laid flat to your back. You felt so overpowered, so overcome by him, and you were loving ever second of it. His pace never faltered, quick snaps of his hips crashing into your backside as he made you come again and again.
He started licking and nipping at your neck. You shuddered at the feeling. “Do you want it Omega? Want everyone to know you’re mine? Want me to give you my knot? Fill you with my pups?,” he asked. “Yes, Alpha,” you whimpered. Somehow he managed to pick up his already relentless pace as he ran one hand down to your aching clit. He rubbed tight little circles into it right before he bit down into your neck just at the juncture of it and your shoulder.
“Sherlock,” you screamed. Pain and pleasure coursed through you as he stayed latched onto you. Your body tried to curl into itself as you came, but you stayed planted firmly beneath him. You could feel him swelling, and then his knot trying to work its way into you. He turned his teeth loose from you and lapped at the bite, cleaning you. “Come on Little Omega, open up for me. Take your alpha’s knot like a good little girl” he encouraged. He was already so big, your body was having a hard time taking anymore, but finally with one last thrust it pushed into you with a popping sensation, locking the two of you together.
“Ooh,” he gasped. His knot was pushing right against your gspot, soon making you see stars once again. With your orgasm, Sherlock was sent into his own, swelling to the point you thought you would burst before emptying his heavy load within you. When he finally came down he rolled to the side, holding you tightly against him. He caressed your body, as he kissed your shoulder. The cool air in the room made your now exposed front ripple with a chill. Sherlock grabbed his coat that laid nearby on the floor and draped it over your body.
You laid like that quietly until his knot went down, and he slipped out of you, making you hiss. “Little Omega,” he whispered. You turned to face him. “Yes, Alpha,” you asked while brushing his wild curls back from his face. “I- I was too rough,” he said full of shame. He could deny it but now you were mated you could feel it flowing off of him in waves “No. You weren’t. I promise,” you told him. “This is not how I would’ve like to do things. I’m not- I just wanted you so badly darling. I thought from the moment we met maybe you were my mate, but I’m not one to give in to impulse. I thought I was stronger, smarter even than what I am, but I was wrong. Denying myself of you only made me want you more, and it resulted in this,” he said somberly.
“Did you not enjoy yourself? Or… do you not want me? Do you regret bonding with me?,” you asked worriedly. He couldn’t reject you. He just couldn’t. You knew it would absolutely kill you. “What? Of course I enjoyed myself, and I do want you Little Omega. I swear to it. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I’m grateful you agreed to letting me claim you. Please don’t think I have any regrets about that in the least. I just don’t like losing control,” he told you. “Well… I liked it,” you said sheepishly. “Naughty girl”, he teased, with a smile.
You kissed him sweetly before laying beside him to look into his eyes. They were so soft and filled with love for you, it took your breath. Suddenly you could feel yourself cramping again. “Ow,” you groaned. Sherlock quickly caught sent of you releasing more slick and hardened again. His eyes darkened and within seconds he was on you again with the same savagery as the first time. When he finished he held you close, rubbing your back soothingly. “I should’ve never denied myself of you,” he said before kissing you lovingly.
After making it through your first rut and heat together the two of you promptly went to the police with your findings before heading you your hometown to gather all your things and bring them back to 221b Baker Street. “Welcome home darling,” he said as he helped you down from the carriage and swept you off your feet, making you giggle. He carried you inside before bringing your things in, not letting you carrying in a single box. “I could’ve helped,” you told him. “My little omega is the queen of this home and will be treated as such. You shall not lift a single thing darling. That’s what your alpha is for,” he said before pecking your lips. You shook your head as you began unpacking.
Two years passed and they’d been the best of your entire life. In that time, Sherlock had decidedly worked less and spent more time with you. He was still a great detective but you were more important than anything else. He still absolutely went wild for you during his rut, which you wouldn’t wish for it to be any other way. You loved how he could be sweet and mild most of the time but take you roughly when you both needed it so badly. Just the thought of it sent a thrill though your body at times.
During those two years he also made you his wife and a mother to two beautiful little twin girls, Delilah and Rosemary. He was the sweetest, most attentive father and husband anyone could ask for. They were still babies and quite young. One evening you were sat in the study, exhausted as both girls nursed from your breasts. You were trying your best to stay awake as Sherlock poured over a recent urgent case. When he looked up he noticed your state.
“Little Omega,” he said making his way over to you. “Hmm?,” you asked. “I’m astounded by you every single day, I want you to know that,” he said as he knelt before you. “What?,” you asked surprisedly. “Look at you right now,” he said. “I’m just feeding our children, Sherlock,” you chuckled. “I know darling, but you’re so tired yet you persevere,” he said. “I- I have to,” you said, maternal instinct coming through strong from within you. “I know. You’re an amazing mother and wife. I’m so proud to be your husband,” he said as he kissed you softly. “Thank you,” you said as a tear ran down your face. “I love you,” he then said. “I love you too,” you replied.
When the girls were finished nursing Sherlock took one of them in his big arms and the two of you put them to bed before retiring for the night yourselves. “Come here Little Omega,” he said as he reached out for you. You nuzzled into his chest as his scent and warmth soothed you. He held you tightly, contentment filling his very bones as the love of his life laid there in his arms. “Hmm,” you hummed softly. “Happy darling?,” he questioned. “Yes, very tired, but very happy and filled with love,” you replied. He smiled to himself before cupping your face and kissing you goodnight, elated that you’d be his for the rest of your lives.
Taglist:
@mrsevans90, @sofiebstar, @kingliam2019, @ylva-syverson, @foxyjwls007, @identity2212, @summersong69, @bascmve01, @thewhowhatwherewhenuniverse, @noirecatt, @duckling-mayie, @sweetbearcolorgarden, @mishkatelwarriorgoddess, @beck07990, @everything-but-the-not-natural, @hannah9921, @pandaxnienke, @thearcana-moonlight, @drewharrisonwriter, @nikkitc0703, @slut-for-henry-cavill, @princessaxoo, @cersei-phoenix-thorn, @jupitervenusearthmars, @penneferofvenerburg, @wetzilly, @dory-98, @kneelforloki, @caramariehurst, @enchantedbytomandhenry, @a-eddie
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flowercrowngods · 2 months
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still on my journey to get better at smut, so uhhhh
chubby!steve fucking eddie at a highschool reunion
(explicit, ca. 1.1k | dom-ish top steve, belly kink, light degradation kink, multiple orgasms, semi-public sex, reunion sex??)
Eddie lets out a high-pitched moan as Steve lifts him off the ground, crowding him against the wall with all that glorious, glorious strength, manhandling Eddie like it’s nothing. If his dick weren’t already painfully hard and throbbing with need, it would be now, trapped as it is against Steve’s belly. It’s the hottest thing Eddie’s ever experienced.
“That what this is, baby?” Steve taunts, slowly grinding against Eddie, the bulge in those preppy-ass pants hot and hard against him.
Eddie moans again, shaking his head in denial even though they both know it’s useless, pointless. He’s been exposed. Quite literally, too.
“You think I’m sexy like this? I make you hard just from looking at me? Don’t think I didn’t see you there, Munson.”
God, the mouth on this man! Eddie never did stand a chance.
“You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid, letting me manhandle you like that. Think I can fuck yon against the wall, Eddie? Hold my dainty little princess up while I fuck all the words right out of your dirty little mouth, hmm?”
Eddie moans again, his hands finding their way into Steve’s hair, tugging and pushing and pulling him closer, closer, closer. He needs more. He needs Steve to do all of that and more. Come inside him, mark him up, let it trail out of him while they return to the gym — or leave him like that for everyone else to see, everyone else who happens to walk by this abandoned classroom in search for some privacy.
It’s been ten years. Ten years since Steve Harrington in all his glory graduated school and left Hawkins behind.
And oh, those years must have been glorious for him if he looks like this now. Bulky. Strong. Magnificent. Like he’s finally grown into that muscle he’s always had and polished it up with some softness.
Eddie was hard the moment he laid eyes on him.
And now here they are — in their old science classroom. If there were any coherent thought left in his mind, he’d make some quip about finally getting some biology lessons.
As it is, though, Steve surges up to claim his lips in a searing, filthy kiss while he divests Eddie of the rest of his clothing.
Eddie is naked now, trapped against the wall by that magnificent bulk of a man who is still fully dressed save for his suit pants being unbuttoned and that white dress shirt open all the way, exposing his hairy chest and tummy. The need to touch him is stronger now than the need to be fucked brainless, and Steve’s groan when Eddie runs his hands up and down those large pecs is absolutely worth the momentary lack of friction.
“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, unaware of the words leaving his mouth until they find their mark, making Steve falter in his frantic movements.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Eddie swallows. “Always wondered what you’d look like now. Hoped for this.” He trails his hand down the prominent happy trail, all the way to where Steve’s cock is still trapped, leaking against his underwear.
They both moan as Eddie feels him up, gently jerking him as much as the angle allows, and Steve meets his movements with thrusts of his own, which in turn provides friction for Eddie’s throbbing erection.
God, this man is glorious. He wants to shout it from the rooftops.
“That so?” Steve murmurs, hands coming up to Eddie’s hair again, one of them trailing down to his lips. “King Steve was never enough for you, hmm? You wanted more. Always knew you were a greedy little slut, Eddie Munson. Practically begging for it with your little stunts. Wanted my eyes on you, didn’t you? We’re always so stupid for me.”
He moves his hips in a particularly mean thrust that makes Eddie keen, one finger moving past his lips for Eddie to suck while the one in his hair pulls meanly before coming down to his cock, jerking so hard and fast that Eddie’s legs quiver. Not that it matters, with the hold Steve has on him without even using his hands.
Eddie has nowhere to go; one finger in his mouth and a skilled hand on his dick. He doesn’t want to go anywhere. He wants to stay in this moment forever. Wants to tell Steve as much — stupidly — but all that comes out is a series of “Ah—ah—ah—ffffuck!” as the man renders him useless.
“All you had to do was ask,” Steve taunts, condescending in every possible way, and Eddie almost blows his load just then.
“P—Please,” he manages around Steve’s finger in his mouth, and the asshole speeds up. It’s all Eddie can do to shake his head, to whine between his moans and let him know that, No, not like that! “Want you. Need you.”
“You have me,” Steve whispers, his lips touching Eddie’s in an almost-kiss that is so intoxicating Eddie loses all sense of self for a second there.
“Fuck me,” Eddie whines. “Please. F—Fuck me against the wall, fuck the words right, right outta my mouth, fuck— like you said. Like that. Please.”
And oh, Steve does. Prepares him on four fingers until there are no words in Eddie’s brain anymore, clamps his hand over his mouth because “I don’t want anyone to find you just yet, baby. Want you all to myself. Want your cum on my belly and have you clean it up, eat it all like the filthy slut you are.”
He fucks him deeper than anyone’s ever fucked him, leaves him trembling with need even after he’s come twice, splattered Steve’s soft belly with it and almost came a third time just from that vision alone.
“One more, baby,” Steve tells him. “One more for me, then I’m gonna fill you up just like you want it, yeah? Fill you so good, mark you up so everyone knows you spread your legs for the King like my pretty little concubine. My pretty little princess, hmm? You gonna come again for me? Can you be a good boy for me?”
Eddie can. He comes with a muffled shout, adding a third load to Steve’s skin, framed by his otherwise pristine suit in what must be the most obscene vision Eddie’s ever seen.
Steve strokes him through it, gentler now, telling him how proud he is, how good Eddie was for him as he thrusts his hips one, two, three more times before he, too, finds his release in Eddie’s body. Well, in the condom; they’re not stupid. But a man can dream.
And, oh, does he dream. With Steve still inside him, his hips bucking with aftershocks as he buries his face in Eddie’s neck, licking and sucking and biting.
Eddie will always dream of Steve Harrington. Especially after tonight.
was gonna put this in @hotluncheddie’s ask box but then it hit 1k so here we go instead i guess
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atlafan · 7 months
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This is the teacher that kids either love or hate, there’s no in between. Mr. Styles has his quirks, and according to your niece, you either get him or you don’t. The annoying thing is, Mr. Styles teaches all of the science electives like astronomy, astrophysics, forensic science, marine science, zoology, and meteorology. These aren’t required courses, but they’re only a semester long. After completing biology, students can either take a full year of chemistry and a full year of physics, or they can do a full year of chemistry or physics, and two science electives. Or they can do four science electives.
Mr. Styles also is the only AP Chemistry and AP Physics teacher. There’s really no avoiding him. Some students accept this, and others continue to live in denial.
Many students know their strengths and passions. They were made to be scientists. Your niece, who loves science, is taking as many courses as possible to help herself out for college later on. She’s in AP Chemistry with Mr. Styles, as well as forensic science. Your niece loved Mr. Styles until he gave her an F for missing an exam. She had been out sick. She had a note from her doctor and everything! Your niece blubbered to you about it.
You know Mr. Styles. You work at the same school as Mr. Styles. You’re the music teacher. You typically avoid Mr. Styles. You’re in a completely different area of the school. Many students complain about him, but just as many praise him. But this time it’s personal. He made your niece cry, at school! You told her she could stay in your office for a bit to calm down. You were marching your way to Mr. Styles’ classroom. You didn’t care if he was teaching. You were going to barge in.
When you get to his door, you see him sitting at his desk through the little window. It’s a prep period. When you giggle the handle of the door, it doesn’t turn. So, you pound on the door with your fist while Mr. Styles takes his sweet time coming to open it.
“Miss-“
“Don’t even address me right now, I’m too mad.”
“I don’t think I know you well enough for you to be venting to me about something.” He says as he closes the door. “But I guess I can listen since I have time.”
“I’m here because you’re being an asshole to my niece. She missed school because she was sick and you wouldn’t let her makeup a test. That’s against school policy.”
“Not with AP courses.” He crosses his arms over his chest. You can’t help but feel frazzled at his attire. The dichotomy of him wearing a Disney shirt about love while he’s scowling is is almost comical. “If a student is sick on the day of the exam, then that’s it. They fail. They don’t get to try again.”
“How is she going to get into a good school if she has an F on her transcript?!”
“She’s not going to fail the class. She knew I had a strict policy. Also, I put out exam dates well in advance. She knew what day it was going to be.”
“She was sick!”
“Was she vomiting uncontrollably? Was she coughing up blood? Was she bed ridden? If the answer is no to any of those, then she could have come in to take the exam.”
“Right, so then she could get all of the other kids sick?”
“Masks are a thing. Plenty of students still wear them in the classroom. She could have come in for the exam and then left afterwards. Why do you care so much? You’re not her legal guardian. Her parents haven’t emailed or called to complain. At the mandatory parents meeting I run at the beginning of the school, I make it clear to the parents that I am strict for a reason.”
“My sister and brother-in-law haven’t called to complain because they don’t know about any of this. She came crying to me because she has no idea how to tell them because she knows she’s going to be asked if she knew it was an exam day. Which she completely forgot because she was sick and her brain was foggy.”
“She’ll have opportunities to make up her grade. Her participation counts for a lot and she’s always participating.”
“You don’t understand mental instability these overachievers have. I’ve seen that girl cry over an A-. Shooting her in the stomach would hurt less than getting a bad grade. Do you get off on being a dick?”
“You know what? This is my prep period, and I was busy.”
“Yeah, your door was locked.” You scoff.
“I always lock it. I don’t like when people filter in and out during my prep.”
“What if a student had an emergency and needed you?! Why are you even a teacher if you don’t care about students?! Do you have any idea how hard these kids have it? They don’t even teach them how to use computers anymore! No one knows how to touch type! Everyone assumes they have it easy, but they don’t. A lot of kids come to school because it’s better than being at home. You making it worse for them is a real turn off. I know you have students that adore you, but you also have students that would love the opportunity to spit in your food.”
“Are you done?”
“That depends, do you understand the points I’ve made?”
“Yes. You were very clear.”
“Are you going to take what I said into consideration as you’re teaching?”
“No.”
“You’re a fucking prick.”
“And you’re…” His eyes go up and down, checking her out. “It’s a good thing your room is on the other side of the school.” He shakes his head.
“Why? Afraid I’ll spit in your food?”
“No, in fact, I’d welcome your spit. I’d like it preferably in my mouth, but beggars can’t be choosers.” He shrugs and sits down at his desk.
Your mouth is agape. Did he really just say that to you?
“Are you serious?”
“Very.” He stands back up and saunters over to her. “If you’d like to cuss me out some more, could we do it over dinner?”
“I…”
“You never gave me a chance to take you out a few years ago. Remember that night we were both at that bar?”
“I do.” You nod as you blush. “But that was a mistake. I had a boyfriend…”
“Do you still?”
“No.”
“Alright, well, I would love to be in your presence again while you’re all fired up. Are you free Saturday night?”
“Pick me up at seven.”
“I’ll make a reservation somewhere I know we’ll be secluded so you can yell at me some more.”
“Stop talking before I change my mind.” You say and storm out of his classroom.
While you were teaching your sixth period choral class, Harry was teaching his forensic science class. Your niece got there a few minutes early to talk to Mr. Styles as he stood outside the class to greet the other students coming in.
“So…did it work?” She asked quietly.
“Like a charm.”
“She said yes?!”
“Mhm.” He grinned. “You must have put on quite the performance. She was really angry.”
“If you thought that made her angry, wait until she inevitably finds out that we worked together to trick her.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
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delcakoo · 1 year
Note
hiii emaaaa
ok so i have a request if you can write something for riki 😋
i have this like randommmm prompt in my head “can we js forget about it?” “you mean forget about when we kisse-“”STOP”.
like an e2l 🫣 if u can write it omg its totally okay if u cant!!
mua ily 💗
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part 2
SUMMARY ! how is niki supposed to focus on biology when his shy tutor is so irresistible and fun to tease?
PAIRING ! jock!niki x tutor!gn!reader
WC ! 800
WARNINGS ! smooching in the library smh
a/n: lilly baby !! this prompt is so cute omg thank u for the req <3 i hope u enjoy and ilyt :D
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3:39PM — being assigned to tutor the star player on your school’s basketball team — aka the biggest slacker of them all, nishimura riki — was probably the biggest obstacle you’d face during the entirety of your high school career.
you didn’t think he was unintelligible beyond saving — no, niki was rather quick with catching onto things when he actually tried. the real problem was that he preferred to stare at your pretty face (his words, not yours) all period then listen to the mumbo jumbo of you explaining the human body’s skeletal system to him, which turned out to be a detrimental issue during your sessions.
there you both sat; legs crossed and eyes focused as you point around different parts of the skeleton in your textbook while niki rested on his elbow, staring holes into the side of your face with a tiny smirk. every once in a while you pause and look up to ensure he’s listening, which he seemed to be doing okay at to your surprise.
“and right below the patella, we have the..?” you look up at niki with a questioning gaze, waiting for him to continue your sentence and demonstrate his listening.
the boy blinks, following your finger that’s pressed on the page, tapping the answer for him blatantly. then, he smiles, biting his lip mischievously. “mm.. if you recreate what we did at our last session, i’ll say it.”
you don’t need to pause and think to remember exactly what he’s referring to. gulping slightly, you glance off to the bookshelves nearby. “look, can we just forget about that?”
“what?” his expression grows brighter, enjoying your shy reactions to the fullest, “forget about when we kissed?”
“niki, stop talking so loud-“
“why? does it make you nervous?” you don’t reply, turning away only for him to lean over the desk to see you better. “ay,” he snickers, “what’s that on your face, y/n? are you blushing for me?” he giggles proudly, reaching over to push some hair behind your ear, successfully revealing more of the apple color painting your cheeks.
the only reason you’d agreed to the whole mess that ocurred last week was because niki promised to study for his upcoming test in return, which he did. in fact — he passed with flying colors, and it only encouraged you more to help him one way or another. the potential he held was begging for assistance, and if a kiss was the cost of that, it was a price you were willing to pay.
and maybe, just maybe because deep down, you’ve been wanting to kiss him as well. niki didn’t need to know that, though.
“shut up, that was for the sake of your grades, and grades alone,” you insist sternly. “now answer my question, what’s below the catella?”
“c’mon, don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it too.” annoyingly, the jock dodges your inquiry, much too intrigued with the new conversation at hand.
“yeah well i- i didn’t.” shit, did you have to stutter now of all times?
before you could process anything, niki gently grabs your jaw, angling it back towards him softly. he waits for any signs of protest while staring down at you, curly black bangs covering parts of his sharp eyes, challenge burning in them at your previous denial. when you don’t push him away, he grins cheekily before bending down to meet your lips.
the kiss was soft and quick, but the plushness and confidence in his movements still made your head dizzy even as he pulled back and surveyed your dazed features, all while licking his lips again to taste the remnants of your own.
“how about that one?” he demands.
it takes you a moment to come back to earth, shaking your head dumbly as you realize he’s asking you to rate his kissing skills. “i- it was alright..”
his tongue clicks in offense, scooting closer to you with a damaged ego and flaring determination. “never would’ve thought my little tutor would be so hard to please.” as you open your mouth to protest, niki’s lips are back on yours, and this time he’s holding the back of your neck to deepen the contact as his other hand reaches over to slam your textbook shut, making you flinch slightly in his hold. “fuck bio,” he murmurs against your lips, “i can’t let you bruise my pride like that and get away with it.”
you gulp, glancing at the library clock only to have your eyes widen in horror. shit. your session with niki ended three minutes ago, and pretty much all you’ve done is make out.
yet.. you can’t find it in you to complain when the pretty boy leans back down for more.
basketball player niki,, 😇
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