#ofwgkta

Tyler, The Creator - Goblin (2011) scans of the Deluxe Edition 2xCD insert.

Today in Hip Hop History:

⚠️: jealousy, possessive behavior, semi-public sex, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, creampie, degradation, light praise, implied neurodivergent!reader

🎞️: Tyler can’t stand to see you with anybody he’ll paint your walls white— I mean paint the town red before you get with someone else.

“Sometimes you gotta close a door to open a window”

You were different. Not in the way most liked to claim it, but genuinely, frustratingly, viscerally different. You were a bit awkward, kind—but often misinterpreted. Tyler noticed the second you walked into his 9am class mid-semester. You walked in with your nervous disposition, yet you somehow gleamed with confidence. You noticed his stares, but you were confused on his intentions. He never spoke just stared constantly.

Eventually you all became friends...well, kinda. You floated in and out of his life during study hall, lunch breaks, and those late evenings when you volunteered to tutor underclassmen. He watched you pour yourself into helping other people, watched you chew on pen caps, adjust your glasses every five minutes, and sigh through multi-step equations like it was nothing. 

He was infatuated by your intelligence, he just couldn’t quite grasp how exactly to tell you that. 

So of course he had to force his way into your life.

You never offered to tutor him. You typically were there for lazy athletes who really expected you to just do all their work. He started signing up for your tutoring slots. Chemistry, mostly. It was the only subject he could fake needing help in. You’d squint at his notes, side-eye him when his answers were perfectly miscalculated for someone “struggling,” but you never called him out. Just smirked. That smirk was enough to send him spiraling back to his dorm and into his hand.

But today? Today, he walked into Study Room D and you were already sitting across from some other guy—laughing. Laughing in a way he hadn’t seen in weeks. The boy leaned in close, his knee brushing yours. Tyler watched from the door, fingers twitching.

He was early. Technically. Your slot with that guy was almost over, but with the way he needed you being early was being on time. He didn’t wait, he just let the door close behind him, and dropped his bag on the table like he owned the place.

You looked up, not startled, but definitely caught off guard. “I know you see me wrapping up here Tyler,” you said, voice neutral.

He didn’t look at you. “Didn’t know you had any other people to see except for me.”

The boy next to you shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. Good.

“He’s new here,” you said. “Can you give us five?”

He didn’t respond. Just sat in the corner seat, pulled out his notebook, and started flipping pages loudly. He could be such a petty bitch sometimes. You’d seen him in his moods but you never were on the receiving end till now.

A few moments passed and the guy packed up and left with a mumble.

When the door clicked shut, you turned to him. “That was rude.”

He shrugged. “Didn’t know tutoring was first come, first serve.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like I did some. He signed up same as everyone else, you know good and well you're early”

Tyler looked up, locking eyes with you. His gaze was heavier than usual, jaw tight, tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek. “He doesn’t even need tutoring.”

You blinked. “And you do?”

“You know I don’t.”

Silence settled like dust.

You leaned back in your chair, arms crossing over your chest. “Then why you here, Tyler?”

He stood slowly, walked around the table until he was inches away from you. He didn’t touch you, didn’t even lean in. Just hovered like a storm cloud. “You know why.”

You held his gaze, heart thudding. “Say it.”

He smirked, dry and bitter. “Been thinkin’ about you for weeks. Every time I come in here, you’re actin’ like you don’t notice. Like you don’t see what you’re doing. You bend over the desk like that’s just… normal. You chew on pens like you ain’t got a clue. But you know. You know exactly what you do to me.”

Your breath caught. “Tyler…”

He stepped closer, finally brushing his fingers against your wrist. “And then you let him sit here. Smile at you. Take my spot.”

You swallowed hard. “It’s not that deep.”

His laugh was low, sharp. “It is to me.”

The tension snapped all at once. His hand slid up your waist, his mouth crashing into yours like it’d been waiting. You kissed back without thinking, moaning into him when his tongue brushed yours.

It was messy, uncoordinated, all teeth and heat and suppressed hunger. He grabbed under your thighs and hoisted you up onto the study table, pushing between your legs.

“Wanted this for so fuckin’ long,” he whispered against your neck. “Thought about it every night after seeing you. You got no idea what you’ve been doing to me.”

Your hips rolled up into his without thinking. He pulled your panties to the side, dipped two fingers into your wetness, and exhaled a shaky, “Fuck.”

You gasped, one hand gripping his cardigan. “Tyler—someone could walk in.”

“Let them.” He dropped to his knees.

Your legs spread before your brain caught up. He sucked your clit into his mouth and groaned at the taste. Two fingers curling inside you had your eyes rolling back. You tried to muffle your cries, but he looked up, eyes daring. “Nah, let me hear it. You so loud with him earlier. Gimme that now.”

You cried out. Loud. Shaking. Nearly falling apart under the pressure of his tongue and fingers and words. You came hard, thighs trembling.

He didn’t stop.

“Can’t believe you let me sit across from you for weeks like this,” he murmured, kissing your inner thigh. “You so mean to me ma, I gotta make this shit mine.”

Your brain barely registered when he stood back up, unzipped his jeans, and slid his cock against your soaked entrance.

“You want it?” he asked, teasing the head against your clit.

You nodded, still dazed. “Yes. Please.”

He pushed in slow, groaning into your neck as he bottomed out. You both gasped, clinging to each other like lifelines. He started thrusting slow, deep, calculated. Like he wanted you to feel every stroke for the rest of your life.

“You’re not gonna fuck anyone else in here,” he whispered, voice shaky. “This room’s mine. You’re mine.”

Your head fell back. He kissed your collarbone, your jaw, your temple. His pace never faltered. You felt everything—every drag, every snap, every breath he took against your skin.

Then he pulled out almost all the way, just the tip inside, before slamming back in. Hard. You yelped, the sound echoing off the bookshelves.

“You like that shit, huh?” he muttered, gripping your hips tighter. “Playin’ dumb all semester, makin’ me wait, actin’ like I ain’t the one you think about too.”

He reached up, tugged your bra down, let your tits spill out. He mouthed at your chest as he fucked into you, rutting harder now, more aggressive. Each thrust punched a gasp out of you.

“You so fuckin’ wet,” he growled. “Drippin’ down my dick. You hear that?”

And you could hear it—every nasty, wet sound of him driving into you like he wanted to rearrange something. Your brain was starting to fizzle, eyes glassy, jaw slack.

“That’s it,” he breathed. “Dumb for it now, huh? All that smart mouth, and now you just a fuckin’ mess on my dick.”

You whimpered—high-pitched and desperate. He slapped your thigh, not hard but enough to make you jolt.

“Take it. You wanted this. You begged for it.”

His hand slid down to your clit, rubbing in tight circles that had your legs kicking. The table creaked under you both, rhythm turning frantic.

“Fuck, I’m gonna—” you cried out.

“Yeah, you are. Cum for me. Now.”

You shattered, spasming around him so hard it dragged a strangled groan out of his chest. You clenched down like your body was trying to keep him, trap him inside. His thrusts stuttered.

“Oh fuck,” he hissed, head dropping to your shoulder. “Gon’ fill you up. You better take all this shit.”

He slammed into you once, twice more before releasing with a deep, guttural moan. You felt it flood inside you—hot, thick, endless.

You lay there, shaking, breathing like you’d just run a marathon. He kissed your shoulder, still buried in you.

“You okay?” he whispered.

You nodded, dazed. “Yeah. Just… damn.”

He laughed breathlessly. “Same time next week?”

You smiled, eyes fluttering closed. “You really waste your time getting tutored tryna fuck on me.”