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#anyways! hope you like this answer 🫶
singsweetmelodies · 8 months
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9+15?
hiiii! thanks so much for asking :DD
9. who is your dream driver line-up?
OOOOHHH, this is a great one!! not exactly easy to answer, but definitely a GREAT question. hmmmm.
so, i think a lot of you are expecting me to say "pierre & charles at ferrari!! 🫶" and yes.... in some ways that is my dream, but in others it's my absolute nightmare. i think that they would have the best PR videos and challenges EVER (so in that sense, i'd really love it) but. if they were ever to fight for a championship, i think that charles would win it, and that.... could start a brocedes type situation. then again, maybe it wouldn't, and maybe they'd be fine (charles has repeatedly said that they've always agreed to keep on- and off-track stuff separate) but still... their friendship is one of my favourite things in f1, and i'd hate to see it turn into a nico-and-lewis situation.
so who would my ACTUAL dream pairing be? well... i've thought about it a lot, and tbh, i think i might like the charles leclerc & oscar piastri pairing at ferrari. in my dream scenario, charles would win a championship that year, and oscar would get in a few wins too - but they would race each other very fairly and respectfully. charles would win, but oscar would give him a good, fair fight... and EVENTUALLY, when charles steps down from ferrari, oscar would step into his shoes and also win a championship for them.
i don't think this 👆 will ever actually happen, though, because oscar seems very solidly fixed in with mclaren for the foreseeable future. so my second-best dream scenario would probably be alex albon as charles' teammate in ferrari: he would never win a championship, but he'd be a very fair and very solid second driver, imo.
15. is there a track that you would get rid of?
HELL yes, and i don't even have to think about it for a second: Miami. there's not a single thing about that track that i don't hate, istg!!! since its inauguration, i don't think we've had a single actually GOOD race there. not to mention how unbelievably cringe the whole thing is - that fake marina? those god-awful driver intros? PLEASE. and the fact that it's yet another US race instead of a proper circuit somewhere that's actually good... yeah. HONESTLY. i would get rid of this track with the biggest smile on my face
(get to know me: f1 edition)
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lolathepeacocklord · 3 months
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MY LOORD, I NEED HELP!!!
i need references for angry archer for my future art projects! He's so stupid i love him so much, i couldn't stop thinking abt him!!
PLS give me any screenshot that u have for refrence i am going insane!!
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GOUUUWWWHHH THE ARCHHHHHHH lucky for yewwwwww I am also incredibly freaked up about this guy specifically, and I have quite a few images of him I cannot lie😼😼‼️🔥🔥🔥let me rally all these freeks upppppppppppppp
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sunnysideaeggs · 1 year
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what do you imagine the relationship like between Daeron and Alicent, and the rest of his siblings? like how would you cast it/present it if you could, and what would be his intro to the show? xx
In my Daeron feels getting ready for S2 <3333
Daeron is a kind of mysterious type of guy for me, the undeniable hero of Team Green and surrounded by mystery in his life and death.
By all means he’s a good kid, his mom’s favorite and the golden child. Being the youngest he probably was closer to Alicent than most of his siblings, and was the one they protected the most. I can see him getting a strict Hightower education (faith of the seven, scholarly inclined, politics and diplomacy) and excelling at it. Otto secretly wishing he was the firstborn lol.
I can see him looking up to his big brothers. He trains hard to be like Aemond, and cut his hair short like Aegon. Maybe as a kid he was following around Aegon and laughing at his jokes, and wanted so bad for Aemond to teach him to fight <3333
He gives me young Jaime and Sansa vibes, liking the stories about knights and fairytales. Him listening to Hel and her prophecies <333 or them both making life at court. Him and Hel were the most beloved of the Targtowers, so maybe Alicent took them both to do charity or to pray together. PR king.
Ideally, I would have introduced him by the time Jacaerys was born. Instead of the Joffrey birth scene, we can have a Jace birth scene along with a Daeron one. It would’ve brought more Rhaenyra/Alicent parallels and given Alicent a much needed birth scene, which the writers didn’t gave her. It makes the timeline smoother, the time jumps smaller and gives more time to develop the factions and rift between A/R. Also it brings a Jace/Daeron parallel too, as they’re the only heros of the dance. They were supposed to have shared the cradle. It also makes noise about Vizzy having a child and a grandchild the same age. But alas, hotd writers can’t write.
In S2, I would introduce Daeron by Otto sending ravens to their allies around Westeros. They’re our ‘eyes’ in all this. We can get some sneak peeks of how the ideological side of the conflict affects lords around Westeros and even peasants. For example, would a lord be more willing to support Aegon because he has a married older sister whose children could lay claim to his castle? Or a heiress lady who fears her bastard older brother? We can give actual reasons for the greens having support instead of “SHE HAS A PWUSSY, SHE CANT RULE” narrative the writers were pushing on S1.
And then, we have Oldtown. The great high tower, the citadel, the city vibrant and lively. We get closer, and in the training yard there’s our boy. A happy teen, he’s training with a few knights and the master of arms mentions how just recently he started training with real steel (this is important, shows his youth and how he’s not yet ready for war). From above, Gwayne (I’m going to assume he’s at Oldtown, since there was no mention of him at court lol) and Ormund are talking about the future, how Daeron is doing good, how will they start ‘movements’, etc. Ormund is called by his maester (the raven by Otto) and Gwayne gets a lil uncle-nephew bonding moment where Dae shows all his charisma and endears the audience because he’s the best boy.
While they talk (idk about what, how he misses him mom and sibs?) they head somewhere to see the blue queen, Tessarion, in all her magnificence. She’s happily purring while some maesters take care of her (grand maester conspiracy!) and make some annotations about godknowswhat. Tess and Dae bonds and Gwayne stays behind saying ‘he doesn’t trust dragons’.
(Just as an annotation, if Gwayne was indeed at KL and they just forgot to invite him to the coronation in E9, Ormund watches Dae alone, the talk can be done between Ormund and Dae, and the maester with the letter can be an ending to the scene with Tessarion. I am a flexible queen.)
The rest of the episode continues, yadda yadda. Btw, this is the first episode, Vhagar-ate aftermath. War is now imminent and this episode centers in the game of thrones aspects of all of this. We can also add Nyra grieving, Daemon being slimy and Aemond getting the chancla. Aegon’s party is a must too. We can even get Alicent being worried about her son at Oldtown, wishing he was with her and she could protect him (</3). If you want to get REALLY bookish, get me an old and wrinkled Vaegon at the citadel, frowning and staying tf out of it. As an easter egg.
At the end of the episode, we go to Oldtown again and Ormund sent for Daeron in his office. He asks him about family, politics, etc (makes him smart and gives redundancy to why the greens are fighting for). Ormund then asks about Tessarion, and how she’s growing well, etc. How she could fight in battles, if the need arose. Dae understands the danger and shows his loyalty to his family. Then we get the news of Vizzy, Aegon, Luke, etc. Daeron finishes with ‘What happens next?’, having a frame of his face. The shot ends. We get a view of Oldtown at night, getting closer to the high tower. We watch the beacon light up green. The credits roll up.
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bigothteddies · 16 days
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Hii! I love your blog! If I got around to posting a lewd for national teddy bear day would you be OK with me tagging you in it wishing you especially a happy teddy day? 🐻 🤎
2nd follow up ask: “I forgot to include a clarification in my last ask (ended with 🐻🤎): we are not mutuals 😅”
Awwh that’s very sweet of you!!! 🫶🏻 I appreciate the thought but honestly I think I’d prefer if you didn’t 💔. I’m very flattered but I try to discourage people that I don’t know from interacting with me sexually too much! It’s nothing personal I promise 🫶🏻
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meirimerens · 2 years
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I um-- I wanted to thank you for drawing characters (esp female characters) with body hair so consistently...👉👈 I'm slowly trying to accept mine IRL so your art makes me feel more normal about it 🥹
you are literally so SO welcome babygirl. I think i've come to a point in my life where it is so much more Normal to me to both Be someone with body hair and Draw characters with body hair that if you don't see it on an image just tell yourself i forgor (there are exception to this. like p2 andrey i draw smooth-chested because i look at his model and i'm like yeah sure. he shaves so he can be smooth and cover himself in oil to escape people's grasps better. why not). It's supposed to be there. You know? It grows here.
when i draw Sensual images body hair is of utmost importance. it's part of the physicality of touch. also (and this as a thought helps tremendously with accepting one's own) body hair is a secondary sex characteristic. like straight up it is. the only people who naturally and normally don't have any are pre-pubescent children. i'm a grown-up, i'm drawing grown-ups, it's only normal that body hair. is here. because if it wasn't. 🤨
^^^ look at this fucking rant. anyways. i 🧡 body hair, body hair on adults is more normal than lack thereof, etc etc. i wish you so much luck and love in your acceptance journey 🫶
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maiteo · 9 months
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Omg Gabriel merry Christmas king
and we got another for the 🫶🏽 vault! a win is a win!
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spiderbeam · 16 days
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LN4: HONEY, HONEY
pairing: lando norris x dog owner!reader
summary: you love your boyfriend. you also love your dog. the only problem? they don’t seem to get along quite as well as you’d hope
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liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, and 281,780 others
yourusername my two loves… flowers and honey 🌷
view all comments
yourusername also lando’s back home for the break!!!!!!
user1 …at least she has her priorities straight?
user2 roscoe and honey photoshoot WHEN
user3 at this point i’m just watching f1 for the dogs
user4 the dogs of the paddock > the drivers of the grid
user5 i think we got over that one pic of leo and honey wayy to quickly 🫶 leo looked TINY next to him they need to repeat it again PLEASE
user6 i fear i’m becoming a honey fan
user7 for a quick second i thought y/n’s nickname for lando was honey and i had to take a second there
landonorris what about the really fine n handsome n very cute guy that gave you the flowers?
yourusername he’s okay too i guess <3
landonorris just okay? :)
maxfewtrell oh my god mate get a room
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alexandrasaintmleux replied to your story:
oh my god look at his little face 🥺 i think now i understand why you don’t go to all the races 🫶
yourusername:
right?? he’s too big to travel so often and last time i left him with a sitter he got sick :( i would take him everywhere if i could though
maybe it’s a little silly but i feel guilty leaving honey on his own for too long 🥲
alexandrasaintmleux:
i get it!!! i think i’d be the same with leo if i couldn’t travel with him ☺️💗
lilymhe replied to your story:
ohh i know expensive flowers when i see them 👀 (also hi honey!!!!!! he looks adorable omg)
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alex_albon replied to your story:
HAHA this is too funny i’m taking a screenshot
oscarpiastri replied to your story:
what do you reckon are the odds of her adopting a fish instead
carlossainz55 replied to your story:
you were right. that dog hates you
also how is your girlfriend not seeing this?
landonorris:
……..i hid my stories from her
carlossainz55:
ay cabrón…. 🫤
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liked by landonorris, quadrant, and 245,921 others
yourusername sun sea and summer ☀️
view all comments
user8 hottest couple
user9 LANDO NORRIS AND Y/N L/N THE PAIR THAT YOU MAKE
user10 the honey content 🧡
user11 i fear you can’t just drop this without a warning
user12 my wife and her boyfriend
user13 my wife, her dog and her side piece <3
quadrant living the good life ☀️
user14 honey for quadrant merch WHEN
user15 @/user14 right?? like alex already launched a whole merch line for his pets why can’t lando do it too for his dog 🥺
user16 😭😭😭 he’s not lando’s dog ♥︎ liked by landonorris
user17 HELP not lando liking it
user18 what a great day to be bisexual
user19 is it me or are there like no lando and honey pics?
user20 now that you mention it…..
user21 no way that’s impossible right?? cause y/n had honey YEARS before she started dating lando
user22 that’s just not true i’m pretty sure i’ve seen pictures of lando with honey
user23 @/user22 ……no i spent a solid ten minutes looking there are actually NONE
user24 they’re my parents if you care
user25 do you guys think y/n’s ever called honey and lando has looked up and answered and she’s just talking to her dog 😭
user25 i can see this happening
maxfewtrell @/user24 yeah i can confirm it was painful to watch
landonorris @/maxfewtrell that is a LIE
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alex_albon replied to your story:
yeah i’m not gonna lie i’d forgive him too. good luck to you though
maxverstappen1 replied to your story:
lock your door
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landonorris replied to your story:
……..cats are better anyway
yourusername:
i’m breaking up with you
landonorris:
BABE IT WAS A JOKE I LOVE HONEY
yourusername:
honey doesn’t love you 🫤
landonorris:
i know that’s the problem ☹️
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landonorris replied to your story:
he’s literally trying to bite off my hand in that last one
yourusername:
baby steps 😇
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a/n: had been working on this one for a while but i got distracted making franco fics 😭 hopefully u guys enjoyed <3
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lovebugism · 7 months
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can i request angst☹️☹️shy!reader barely ever talking and being soo hyperaware of everything and steve slowly breaks her out of her shell? then she overhears him saying she talks too much and she just feels bad and reverts into herself
Angst w happy endingn if possible please ily!!🫶🏼
ty for requesting!! — steve tells you he likes when you talk a lot (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1k)
Your smile is wide and unknowing. Steve thinks there’s something extra special about it because you don’t even realize it’s there. “—And since Eddie was working the register, he let me take one of the new tapes for free. You know, to try it or whatever, and he was all like, ‘flattery works with me,’ and I was like, Steve would keel over if he was here right now.”
A giggle spills from your mouth when your rambling ceases, lips curling and eyes crinkling.
Steve blinks at you with his own absentminded beam, too busy thinking about how pretty you are to react properly to your story. 
Your smile sobers slightly. “What?”
“Nothing,” he assures with the shake of his neatly styled head, rogue strands of chestnut hair draping his forehead. He shrugs and leans his elbows over the Family Video counter you stand across. “You’re just… You’re talking a lot. ’S nice.”
Your face heats. Your chest burns with a similar fire. Your eyes widen ‘cause you didn’t realize that you hadn’t shut up until now. “Oh… Sorry—”
“No, it’s good!” he tells you, laughing. “It’s a compliment.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah! I mean, I used to have to bribe you to get you to talk about your day. Remember that?”
Benny’s Burgers was your very best friend at the start of your relationship. Steve would always buy your dinner — not in exchange for you to talk exactly, but in the hopes that the additional time spent with you would help you open up. It did. Most of the time, anyway.
Your nose scrunches. “I thought you took me out because you liked me?”
“I took you out ‘cause I liked you and because the sugar rush from the milkshakes made you talk more.”
You nod once. “Right.”
The conversation ebbs. The store gets eerily silent without your voices to fill it. Steve, undeterred by the lapse in dialogue, flashes you a lopsided smile. “Wanna show me the tapes you bought?”
“Yeah,” you murmur and push off the counter. 
Steve watches you over his shoulder while you saunter down the hallway where your bag is kept. The breakroom door squeals open and shut again. A voice sounds suddenly from beside him. “Nice job, dingus,” Robin chides, gritty and montoned.
His head snaps to the other side, brows twisted with confusion. “What?”
“You hurt her feelings,” she answers like it’s obvious, dropping a stack of VHS tapes on the counter with a heavy thud.
“I didn’t even say anything!”
“You said she was talking a lot.”
“I said that I liked it!”
Robin rolls her ocean-blue eyes, huffing ‘cause he’s too oblivious to get the point. “Yeah, but if I said, Wow, you have a ton of gel in your hair— but it’s styled really nice today, it’d give you a whole complex. Wouldn’t it?”
The make-believe compliment is dreadfully backhanded. Steve’s face floods with a gentle horror, the realization of a fallacy he hadn’t realized he’d made. “Shit…”
“Exactly,” Robin deadpans. “Now go take care of your girlfriend, dingus.”
He finds you in the breakroom, idling in place. You’ve got the cassettes in your hands, and you fidget with them between anxious fingers — like you were planning to come out sometime, but not quite yet. 
You tense when the door creaks open, relaxing again when Steve enters.
“Whatcha doing?” he wonders with a crooked, pink smile.
“Getting the tapes,” you answer in a mousy voice, waving the pieces of plastic in your hand.
The door clicks shut behind him. He inches towards you, fond and terribly soft with it. “I missed you,” he confesses in a faint murmur. His wide palms settle on your sides. You warm instantly under his touch.
“I was gone for two seconds,” you respond with a quiet laugh.
“Yeah. And I felt like I was dying.”
You meet his pout with a small smile, blinking up at him with sparkling doe eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”
“I just love being around you, alright? Sue me,” he argues, squeezing softly at your hips. With a quieter smile, he confesses, “And when I said you were talking a lot— I didn’t mean anything by it, you know?”
You’d disappeared back here because you thought it was something silly to be so upset over. He’d told you it was a compliment, but it didn’t really feel like one. Your brain refused to be anything other than hurt by his well-intentioned remarks. The ache in your chest became unignorable, and you shrunk inside yourself accordingly.
“I know,” you murmur.
“I love hearing you talk,” he tells you, shy smirk widening to a lopsided beam. “It’s my favorite thing in the whole world, actually.”
Your lips purse to the side. Your anxious hands fidget with the plastic cassettes in your palms, aching to hold him. It takes you a moment or more to find the courage to speak. “I’m just… I’m normally super aware of… when I’m talking too much, you know? I was just… Excited, I guess.”
“You were. And it was really fuckin’ cute.” A laugh sputters from his lips. He wears all the love he has for you in the deep honey of his eyes, rich and swimming with warmth. “I love seeing you happy.”
“Well, you make me happy…” you whisper, gaze averted. “So, it fits…”
“Yeah, it does,” he murmurs in response, ducking down to kiss you. It’s chaste and terribly fleeting — lips locking together one moment and then smacking in protest when they separate the next. 
It takes your eyes a second too long to flutter open again after he’s pulled back from you. You find Steve already grinning as he nods to the tapes in your hands. “Wanna pop those into the radio? So we can listen to ‘em while I work?”
Your brows pinch with a distant worry. “Won’t Keith get mad?” 
“Probably,” Steve answers with an uncaring shrug. “You don’t have to worry about him, alright? I’ll take care of you.”
You melt.
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eiightysixbaby · 5 months
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hi there! i'm OBSESSED with your eddie works and I had a lil request for u!
(if this is out of your comfort zone, I totally get btw, i'm just actually hormonal rn)
thinking about reader and eddie while she's ovulating and absolutely, positively feral... maybe they've only been together for a little while and they've fucked before, but he's never really seen that side of her... idk i'm just thinking a lot of thoughts rn
thanks! 💞
hi angel! thank you so much!!! 🥹🫶🏻 i hope i did your request justice 🩵
18+ only plssss. fem!reader, unprotected piv
The clock ticks obnoxiously where it hangs on the wall, marking each passing second that won’t pass fast enough.
It’s not unusual for a shift at the library to go slowly, but today time feels like it’s trudging through thick molasses; barely crawling by. Or maybe it’s just going backwards at this point, who knows.
You chew at the cap of your pen, reading the same sentence of the novel in front of you over and over yet not fully comprehending it. Trying to ignore the desperate ache between your thighs, the heat that pools in the pit of your stomach. It had been a relentless desire for the last couple of hours, a hunger that couldn’t be sated just yet.
But the promise of seeing your boyfriend after work had you chewing-through-your-leash desperate for your shift to end. You know Eddie had a nice dinner planned for the two of you tonight, but all you can think about is how badly you need his hands on you. It makes you feel bad, but you can’t rid yourself of thoughts of his lips on your neck, his fingers splitting you open, your hips grinding against him. This always happens when you’re ovulating, only this time… you’re not hiding it.
The last couple of times, you’d made do with your vibrator at home; embarrassed to let Eddie see this side of you. Your relationship was still quite new, and you weren’t sure if ripping his clothes off any chance you got would scare him away or not. This time, though? You can’t hold back any longer.
The end of your shift arrives at long last, and you practically fling yourself from your receptionist chair. You gather your belongings with haste, throwing everything into your shoulder bag before hightailing it out the door. Your keys jangle as you fumble with them, searching for the correct one to unlock your car. Eddie will be expecting you, although maybe not expecting you in the state that you’re in.
It doesn’t take long to get to the trailer park, your thighs pressing together in an attempt to provide even the smallest amount of friction as you drive along familiar roads. Your car is barely in park before you’re killing the engine, ascending the few steps to his trailer door and swinging it open without a knock to alert anyone inside. Wayne isn’t home anyway, so really what do you need to knock for?
Eddie’s frame appears in his bedroom doorway down the small hallway, his face brightening at the sight of you. You feel like you’re sweating just looking at him, your clothes suddenly too tight as the space between your thighs vibrates with need.
“Hey, baby. I didn’t expect you so soon, did you fly over here?” Eddie asks, a lighthearted joke, but he’s not far from the truth.
You don’t even answer him, slipping off your shoes before you’re trodding down the hallway, throwing your arms around his neck when you reach him.
“Baby, what’s—” he starts to speak, only for you to cut him off with a hot kiss to his lips. His voice dies against your mouth, fizzling into a soft whimper as you tug his bottom lip between your teeth.
“Missed you so bad,” you murmur. Your nervousness over how he’d react is tossed out the window, unwilling to wait any longer. “And I’ve been wanting you all fucking day,” you ramble, kissing him between words. “I need you,” you plead, letting a hand fumble with his belt buckle.
He makes a sound that’s halfway between a gasp and a laugh, kissing you before speaking. “Do you not want to go to dinner?” he asks, tilting his head slightly to the side.
“I do,” you admit with a pout. “But I need you right now.” Your hands are on a mission, palming him urgently through denim as if he might disappear any second, never to be touchable again.
The corner of his mouth twitches up in a soft smirk, his thumbs rubbing over your hipbones where his hands hold them.
“I’ve never seen you this needy, sweetheart,” he teases you, brushing his lips across the shell of your ear before he bites at the lobe. “But I like it.”
You whine at this, the slightest touch, and he breathes a quiet laugh.
“Please, Eddie, don’t tease,” you beg as he noses your chin up, kissing at your neck.
He doesn’t listen, taking his time trailing kisses down your soft skin and letting his hands wander but never close enough to where you need him. You can feel yourself dripping, making a mess of your panties. His big hands squeeze your ass, taking greedy handfuls. You let out a moan, louder than you’d intended, earning the nip of his teeth against your skin. Taunting.
You’re riled up, frustrated beyond belief, huffing where you stand before you decide you’ve had enough.
You press your hands to his chest, pushing him off of you. He’s surprised by the action, giving you the opportunity to grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him over to his bed and letting him fall onto the mattress. He sits on the edge of it, looking up at you equal parts dumbfounded and turned on. Your hands hurriedly undo the hefty buckle on his belt, unzipping his jeans as you start to straddle his lap. His cock is throbbing, leaking as it lays in waiting in your hand once you retrieve it from its confines.
“Told you not to tease,” you say. His big brown eyes roam over your face, his pretty lips parted just slightly in a state of awe. “I need you to fuck me. Now.”
“Yes ma’am,” he obeys, but it’s less him doing the work and more you taking control.
You ruck your skirt up, pushing the fabric of your panties to the side and lining yourself up with his cock, sliding slowly down onto the length of him. Your name escapes his lips as his leaves yours, already starting to rock your hips against his.
He holds you firmly in place on his lap, guiding your movements to the best of his ability. The stretch he provides you with is delicious, exactly what you’d been craving, the entirety of him filling you up perfectly.
“You’re so fucking soaked, baby,” he remarks, bringing one hand up to briefly run through his messy curls, his cheeks already flushed pink. “Feel bad you had to wait so long for me while you’ve been this worked up.”
He’s teasing you, kind of. Pitying you in a way that only makes you ache further. You bounce faster on him, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders. He’s cursing under his breath as you’re fucking yourself on his length, riding him with a fervor and determination he hasn’t seen from you yet. He finds it hotter than he’d have ever expected, seeing you in such a state, and it’s taking everything he has not to finish early.
Lucky for him you aren’t far behind, desperate to cum after waiting all day. He lets one of his thumbs lazily circle your clit, sensing your desire to let go in the way your brows furrow in concentration.
Strings of moans tumble from your mouth, curse after curse of his name as you quicken your pace. Your head tips back, pure ecstasy coursing through you as you take what you want from him unashamedly. The rough pad of his finger on your clit makes you feel like you’re on fire, ablaze beneath his touch. His hips buck to meet your bounces, the tip of his cock pressing over and over against your sweet spot.
“Eddie—” you gasp, just as you fall apart on top of him. Your walls grip him like a vice, making him bite down on his lip.
He works you through your high, pulling out when he can’t possibly hold off his orgasm any longer. He pumps his cock in his fist a few times before he spills against your skin, cum dripping down your pussy.
Both panting, sweaty messes, you meet each other’s eyes and laugh.
“Feel better now, sweets?” he asks, lips pressing against yours in a heated kiss.
You break away momentarily, cradling his face in your hands. “You have no idea.”
He smiles. “Well, for what it’s worth, you have permission to use me whenever you need me.”
“Thank god,” you sigh, smiling against his cheek. “Cause I don’t think I’m done for the night.”
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springseasonie · 7 months
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Notice Me | LHC (M)
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Friends to lovers
Summary: You and your friends go to a college party, and tonight is the night where you are finally going to try and catch your crush's attention, who also happens to be one of your good friends. He doesn't think that he thinks of you in that way, but what happens when he sees you with another guy at the party?
Warnings: sexual content, protected sex, auralism, guided masturbation (kinda), sensory deprivation, super vanilla, reader is legally blind (trust it's important 🙏🏾), long haired haechan, violence (minor fight scene), special appearances: Karina and Yunjin
Word count: 7,5k
Song recs: moment by Victoria Monet
A/N: wrote this on a random whim. Def not my best writing but oh well. Hope you guys like it. I will start working on request after this one I promise 🫶🏾 feedback is loved and appreciated
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“Are you guys sure I don't look crazy?” 
“Yes we're sure! Now let's go, we're already 45 minutes late and Mark is yelling at me in my messages!” 
Karina grabbed your hand, pulling you into the frat house followed by your other best friend Yujin. A chill ran down your spine and also your legs, never having this much skin exposed. This was new to you– dressing in skimpy clothes and college parties. But that wasn't the only thing new to you. Having a crush is also very new. 
The only reason you're even here is because of him. Haechan to be exact, who is a part of your friend group. He's the exact opposite of you– loud, cheerful, outgoing. But maybe that's why you like him so much. Opposites attract. 
And that's why you're standing in the middle of the doorway, looking like a deer in headlights in the shortest skirt and tiniest top ever. Tonight was gonna be all about catching his attention. It was going to be about making him look at you like a woman and not a friend. 
You walk through the crowd of people, their bodies constantly smashing yours. The constant bumping makes your glasses slide down your nose, making you fear that you may lose them. Most people think you're being dramatic when you say you can't see without them, but you're as blind as a bat.
Mark and Haechan soon come into view, standing in a circle with their other friends from the basketball team. 
“But don't you guys remember- woah..” Mark turned his head, stopping mid sentence when he saw Karina, and Yujin walking towards them. 
“Hey guys,” Yunjin said excitedly. 
Everyone said their hellos, but you couldn't help but notice the way their eyes lingered on you, all except Haechan. He spared you one glance and one hello before going silent, sipping whatever it was in his cup. You felt yourself die inside, the way he was treating you like an acquaintance all of a sudden. Was it too much? Did you go too far? 
“Sorry were we so late, it takes a long time getting ready,” Karina says, fixing her hair. 
“I'm sure it did.” Mark is still eyeing you like you've said something weird. None of them has ever seen you like this. You're always pretty much covered up. Hoodies and leggings are your daily attire. 
Mark turns his attention to you, scoffing in disbelief. “And look at you, walking in here looking like a sexy Velma.” 
“Oh shut up, she looks good. Right Haechan, doesn't she look good,” Yujin inquires. 
The male glances at you then back to Yujin then at Mark, whose brow is raised waiting for his answer. “You look…nice Y/N.” 
Nice? That's it? “Thanks,” you say, hands glued to your sides. 
Karina sighed, shaking her head at the dry response. “You guys suck at compliments,” she said. “Anyway, let's go get something to drink.” She took a hold of both Yujin and your hands, pulling you to the kitchen. 
Eyes never left your figure since you walked in the building. There were other girls dressed just like you, but for some reason all attention remained on you, and you didn't like it. So used to being a background character in your own life, you'll never get used to attention. 
“God you look hot, we did so good,” Yujin whispered to you, her voice slightly muffled because of the loud music. 
“Do I? He didn't have much of a reaction,” you argued, a frown tugging at your lips. 
“Everyone's been ogling at you all night, even Mark. You definitely look hot,” Karina reassures. “Besides, maybe you'll meet someone else here that you'll like. Haechan doesn't know what he's missing.” 
“Yeah, honestly if he doesn't do anything tonight, you need to move on sister,” Yunjin adds. “Can't keep dwelling on the same guy for 3 years.” 
But you don't want to move on. And if he rejects you, you know that you can't regardless. You'll still like him, because he's a good guy and always has been. There's probably nothing that could make you think anything less. Karina continued to pull you to the kitchen between the bodies when you suddenly bumped your shoulder into someone, causing them to drop something. 
“Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-” 
“It's no problem,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “No big deal. It was just my phone.” 
You didn't even notice you lost the hold of Karina’s hand at this point, your attention being on the man in front of you. “D-did it break? I'll pay for it.” 
“No, it's doing just fine,” he said, placing the phone in his pocket without sparing a glance. He eyed you up and down, his gaze undressing you right in front of him. “What's your name?”
“Y/N,” you answered, gulping slightly out of nervousness. “Yours?” 
“Johnny.” Licking his lips, he narrows his eyes slightly while speaking to you. “You new around here? I've never seen you on campus before.”
“Well, I actually don't go here,” you say, words leaving your mouth a little too fast. “I have a couple of friends that do. They invited me to this party.” 
“Cool,” he said. “Can I… get you a drink?” 
Your eyes widened, a bit taken back by the sudden request, but you didn't disapprove of it at all. Johnny was cute, tall, had a nice voice and seemed like a nice guy. So why not take the offer? “Yeah, sure. That would be great.” 
 -
“Man, he sure is chatting her up,” Mark remarks, watching you and the unknown guy stand and talk while sipping on your drink.
“How can he not? She looks great tonight,” Yunjin comments. “Doesn't she Haechan?” 
Haechan furrows his brows, side eyeing her as he man-spreads on the couch they're all sitting on. “Why me specifically?” 
“Why not?” Yunjin shrugs. 
Haechan rolls his eyes, looking down at his lap trying to focus on anything but the scene in front of him, but he can't help it. You did look good, you looked great. But for some reason he couldn't say it. His stiffness towards you when you came in was because of how different you looked. Haechan wouldn't say he had a crush on you , more so complicated feelings. He didn't yearn for you, but he wouldn't hate it if something sprung from your friendship. 
Haechan knows that his female friends are attractive. Guys always talk about Karina and Yunjin, telling him that he should pursue them or sleep with them, that he's wasting his time being friends. He's never looked at them in that way, but with you it's a different story. You're easy to talk to, and you have lots in common with him. He also loves your glasses. It's something you don't like about yourself, but he thinks they make you look pretty. You've always been pretty to him, probably his exact type on paper. Someone who's smart, calm, a bit of a homebody, true to themselves. 
But disregarding any of that, he didn't have a crush on you. He wasn't into you in that way, despite what everyone else in the friend group thinks. His eyes narrow watching you cross your arms, throwing your head back while laughing at something. “So funny,” he mumbled. 
“You said something,” Yunjin asked. 
“No.”
“Sure… you know, if you like her you should-” 
“I don't like her. We are just friends,” he cuts her off.
Yunjin sighs, making her head. “Haechan you are fooling no one but yourself. I'll let you in on a little secret. Y/N has a crush on you,” she says, hoping that would help him open his eyes. 
Haechan stays silent, expression remaining stoic and straight as he stares directly at the male putting his hand on your hip. That's when he feels a slight sting in his chest. The small ping of jealousy. 
“How would you know that,” he says after a few beats of silence between them. 
“Why do you think she dressed up tonight? God, use your brain.” 
Before Haechan could respond, he watched as someone walked past you, bumping you on the shoulder. He watched as the drink fell out of your hand, almost like a cliche movie. 
The liquid splashed all over the guy’s chest, but he didn't seem too upset. In fact, he looked happy to Haechan, especially when you dabbed the paper towels all over his chest
“God, I am so sorry,” he heard you say panicked. Just as soon as you thought you were done panicking someone else walked beside you, bumping you in the shoulder. You must've been getting bumped all night because your glasses fell. 
“Shit,” you said. You dropped to your knees, feeling around the floor for your frames. “I-Im sorry can you please-”
You look up at Johnny, but you see nothing but a flash in your face. “J-Johnny?”
“God, has anyone ever seen you like this,” he laughed softly. “You're so hot, I could just-”
You heard a loud smack above you, followed by gasp and tons of commotion.
“What the fuck? Who the fuck are you,” you heard Johnny yell. 
“She's looking for her glasses. Aren't you gonna help,” you heard a voice similar to Haechan say. 
Johnny laughed, scoffing at the guy you couldn't see. “Is she your girl or something? You should keep her on a leash before I take her to my place and show her what a good time is.”
“Excuse me,” the other guy grumbled. You were still searching for your glasses, but from what you could tell, a group started to form around the 2 guys and yourself 
 “You heard me. Get your bitch or-”
A loud sound was heard coupled with oh’s and ah’s from the crowd. 
You heard another sound. This time, it sounded like a punch. There was a fight happening, and you were on the ground still looking for your glasses. Just as you reached in another direction on the floor, you felt hands pull your body up. 
“What the fuck was he thinking,” you hear Karina groan. She turned your body, placing your glasses back on your face. For the first time in a minute you can see, and you do not like what you see. 
Haechan and Mark were currently trying to fight Johnny and his two friends. “What is going on? Why is everyone fighting all of a sudden?” 
“Let's just get away from all this, and we'll tell you.”
You were pulled away, Karina and Yujin dragging you outside to the driveway away from the loudness of the party. “So what exactly is going on?” 
“Okay, so basically-” Karina started to speak, but Yujin cut her off quickly. 
“Everyone was watching you and that guy hit it off the whole time, but Haechan looked like he was gonna kill someone. So I said, you know if you like her you should tell her. And he was like I don't like her , we're just friends. Then he saw you trying to clean off that guy's shirt. Then your glasses fell and you got on the ground and-”
“I'm sorry, but what does that have anything to do with what just happened in there,” you say exasperated. 
“Well when your glasses fell and you got down to look for them your-”
“Oh my God.” Karina looked at her phone shocked. You and Yunjin stood next to her to see the screen, and was immediately horrified. 6 different people recorded and took pictures of you looking for your glasses on the floor. Every post had people calling you names ranging from desperate to slut. You didn't realize at the time, but almost your entire ass was out, and your cleavage could be seen clearly. 
“Fuck,” you groaned. “i'm going to kill myself.” You placed your face in your hands, covering the embarrassed expression. 
“Yeah,” Yunjin said, lips pursed right after. “That's what happened.” 
“Why did you guys let me do that” you whined. 
“We were on the couch, surprised. We thought you were trying to seduce the guy, but then we saw him pull his phone out and everything went to hell,” she explains. 
At this point you're pacing the driveway, trying to figure what to do about the party, the post, Johnny, Haechan, everyone. “Well now we have to leave,” you said. “We've been here for less than 2 hours and we have to leave.”
“Okay, well let me call them,” Yujin said. Just as she pulled out her phone, a voice was heard behind her. 
“No need,” Mark said, making his presence known. 
The three of you turned back to see them with their clothes messed up, cuts and bruises on their faces, and tired. 
“Oh my God,” Karina says with her hand over her mouth. “Are you guys okay?” 
“We're fine…well I'm fine. He's a bit..” 
You look over at Haechan who's standing there with his hands in his pockets. You don't know what came over you, but you took a couple of steps towards him, anger filling your mind. 
“Why would you do that,” you said. Your voice startled him, making him look up from the ground. 
“Y/N I-”
“I had no idea what was going on, and you two getting into a fight scares me to death,” you told him. “How did you even get all the cuts on your faces?” 
“Him and his friends had rings and stuff on,” he mumbled, shrugging. “Shit happens.” 
There weren't many times Haechan has seen you upset. The last time you were this mad was when Mark accidentally deleted your essay from your laptop doing his homework. 
“We have to leave right now,” you sighed, arms folded at your chest. “I won't know what to do if you get into another fight and you're already hurt like this.”
Without thinking, your hands reach up to his face, taking his chin between your fingers as you check his face for any other injuries that you can't see. Haechan thought he was crazy when the butterflies erupted in his stomach, but they erupted again when you looked at him with pity, like you cared about him. He hadn't felt that way in a long time. Getting attention from girls came easy to him, but none of the girls he's dealt with made him feel the way you do. 
 “I'll um..I'll get an Uber for us-”
“No I'll get it,” you said. “We're going back to my house, you can't take care of all these by yourself.” 
There it was, more butterflies. 
“We'll go back to Mark’s and help him out,” Karina said, side eyeing Yunjin. 
Yunjin quickly nodded, picking up the message Karina was sending. “Yep! Absolutely! We'll see you tomorrow!” 
“What? I don't need help. I'm a grown man,” he whined. Karina and Yunjin nudged Mark who didn't seem to understand what was going on, making the man look at them confused.
“Grown men don't get into fights at parties,” you snap. “We'll see you guys tomorrow.” 
-
“Wait in the bathroom. I'm going to change super quickly.” You shut your door behind you, locking it before kicking your shoes off. Before walking to your room, you turn to Haechan who looks as stiff as wood. “You look uncomfortable.” 
Haechan watched as you walked away from him, going to your kitchen instead of your room. You grabbed a mug, filling it with water. He's never been so uncomfortable with you, but right now he feels like he could explode. You look so good in your current outfit, the way your hips sway when you walk, the way the shirt hugs your chest. He feels like he shouldn't be looking at you like this, but he feels like he's the only one who should be allowed. 
“Here.” You hand him the mug, looking at him in the eyes like usual. 
Haechan gulps, forcing himself to stop, keeping his eyes on yours and not let the travel any further. “Thanks,” he says, taking it out of your hands. 
“Take your shoes off and relax,” you say. “I'll meet you in the bathroom in 5 minutes.” 
He watches you walk away, holding his breath until you shut the door behind you. “Fuck,” he sighs. The one thing he can't do is get hard standing at your front door. Haechan knows he wouldn't be able to explain that, let alone lie to you about it. The only thing he could do is sit in your bathroom like you asked, and wait for you to put normal clothes on. 
But Haechan is only a man. When you walked into the bathroom with short shorts and a laced lined camisole, the only thing he could do was pray for his presumed innocence. Pray that he didn't make a fool of himself in your house. 
You reached up in your medicine cabinet taking out the pain meds and supplies for his injuries. It took you 10 seconds to get everything out, but for him it felt like 10 years. The way the fabric rose as you lifted your arms, watching you lean your hips on the edge of the counter giving him the smallest piece of your ass to stare at. And the way your nipples poked through the shirt– he was going to pass out right then and there. 
There's nothing Haechan wanted more than to get behind you, feel up on your body. Whatever you were planning for the party worked because now he can't keep his mind off of you, and soon, it'll be his hands. To think you wore that outfit for him, he never would've guessed it. 
“I can change if you need me to,” you said softly, startling him. 
“N-no you don't need to change,” he said, watching you take two pills of pain meds out of the container. 
“Take these.” You handed him the pills, watching him drink them down as you leaned on the counter. Haechan was sitting on the toilet seat, so the sight of him taking deep gulps with his eyes closed was a treat to say the least. You shouldn't be eyeing him like this, but God, was he attractive, even with bruises and cuts. “Are you feeling any better?” 
“Gotta wait for them to kick in first,” he joked, but there was no smile on his face. 
You grabbed an ointment for his bruises, opening it and squeezing some on your fingers. Haechan watched you as you tended to his wounds, concentrating on not trying to hurt him. He loved the way you would bite your lip whenever you were trying to concentrate, he always did. 
The silence was comforting for a while, but then his thoughts got the best of him. Both of you actually. Your chest was in his face, his eyes wouldn't leave yours. The less talking there was, the more sexual tension filled the air, so you needed to get rid of it. But your mouth moves faster than your brain and for some reason, you felt it was the perfect moment to come clean about your intentions with him.
“I have something to confess,” you said softly. 
“What is it?” 
“I wore that outfit for you tonight,” you said, fixing your glasses on your nose bridge. 
He smiled to himself, but you didn't see. “I have something to confess.” 
“Hm,” you hummed. 
“I already knew that.” 
You let out a soft gasp, laughter soon following. “How did you know?” 
“Yunjin,” he said simply. You let out a sigh, shaking your head making him chuckle softly. 
“That girl can't keep a secret to save her life.” You moved on from his bruise, now tending to the scratches on his cheeks. Taking your fingers you apply the cream on the scratches, making him wince. “I only have a little bit left. This is why you shouldn't get in fights Mr. Lee.” 
“Well, I..” he hesitated. “I fought for you.” 
For a second you felt your heart drop. The guy you liked for 3 years fought for you, and you had absolutely nothing to say. “Thank you” was all you could manage. “But…why?” 
“He was…an ass.” Memories of the guy recording you why you were down struck his brain, pissing him off all over again. “He was treating you like some kind of sexual fantasy. And I don't like that.” 
You frowned, remembering that videos and pictures of yourself looking for your glasses are now circulating the Internet. “Yeah…”
“And I didn't like the way he was touching you,” he said, wincing at the feeling of you putting the bandage on. 
“You sound like a protective father,” you joke, trying to lighten the mood. “I appreciate you for defending me, but there's no reason to get hurt while doing it.” 
“But I want to,” he says, making you pause. “Y/N, I think I like you.” 
“I-I..uh..” You wanted so badly to say you liked him too, but now you were nervous. Your face was beating up, fogging your glasses. Be cool, be normal. “T-thanks..” 
“Thanks?” Haechan laughs softly. “That's what I get for fighting.” 
“No, that's not what I meant! I meant-”
“I know what you meant, and it's fine,” he reassured you. “I think I liked you for a long time, just didn't know if you felt the same way.” 
“How long is a long time to you?” 
“A couple months,” he answered. 
You sighed, a slight wave of disappointment filling your chest. “I wanted you for 3 years.” 
Haechan's eyes widened slightly, brows shooting up hearing your words. “3 years? Why didn't you tell me?” 
“Because I'm the kind of girl you befriend, not date,” you answered bitterly. 
“That's not true.” 
“All the girls you like are exactly like you. They're loud, adventurous, cool, hot, wear skimpy clothing,” you argued. “I'm just not your type.” 
“Well that can't be true now, because it seems like you are exactly my type,” he stated. 
“For now.” You started treating his last bit of scratches, scrunching your nose to keep your glasses from slipping again. “Why do you think I wore that outfit? I just wanted you to notice me.” 
“But I noticed you. I do all the time,” he revealed. 
“But it wasn't until tonight which made you realize that,” you added. And with that final comment, you finished tending to his wounds, placing the last bandage on his face. “I'm all done. If you wanna go home, I can-” 
“No,” he said. Haechan placed his hands on the back of your thighs, his soft palms sending lightning through your body. “I'm staying here.” 
You could barely think straight with him touching you, the hold on your legs just getting stronger and stronger, his thumbs pressing into your skin. That's when Haechan kisses up your clothed stomach softly and slowly, making your lashes and heart flutter as you watch him from above. 
“Haechan, stop,” you sigh. “Y-you're not thinking straight.” 
He stands up, his lanky figure looming over yours. You swear you feel dizzy the moment his cologne hits your nose. He pulls you closer, his pelvis on yours. You could feel his hard on sitting right on your aching cunt. 
“I know you feel it,” he whispers. “I know you feel the tension here. And I know you feel how hard I am too.” 
Gulping, you look away from him. This is everything you've fantasized about for the last 3 years, but something is telling you no. Something is telling you it's too good to be true. “Maybe..maybe we should wait.”
Haechan takes your chin in his bruised knuckles, lifting your chin to look at him, but all you can see are his pretty lips hovering over yours. “Are you sure you wanna wait? Because I'm not sure I can hold myself back for even a second.” 
His free hand travels up your leg, his fingertips grazing the heat between your legs ever so slightly, teasing you even more. “You have no idea how pissed it made me feel seeing that guy touch and feel on you, knowing it should've been me.” 
“That's why you fought him?” 
The breathiness of your words almost made him spiral. You were breathing heavily, your chest pressed against his so turned on at every little thing he did. 
“Mhm,” he mumbled. “Seeing you walk around in that tiny skirt knowing I couldn't have you..”
“You have me now..” 
“You're right, I do.” 
Haechan kisses you just as you imagined, soft and with care. He kept kissing you, each kiss making you feel high. His hands left your face and leg, grabbing a hold of your waist. You yelp, feeling your body be lifted onto the end of your sink, legs spread apart as he stands between them. His tongue entered your mouth, the kisses slowing down and lingering a bit. 
Haechan places his hands on your sides, soon traveling to your chest. Hard nipples looking through the fabric, teasing him the whole time he's been in your house can finally be his. Haechan hooks his fingers on the bottom of your shirt, begging to pull it up when you grab his wrist, stopping him. 
You pull away painfully slow, a strong of saliva still connecting your lips only for a second. “Can we go to my room?” 
Haechan said nothing, just backing away from your body and pulling you off the counter. He pulled you to your room, still messy as always. He always loved your house, especially your room. Something about it felt like home. There's always little bits of you scattered throughout your space, whether it be homework, a brush, a mug, or even a sock. It doesn't matter how many times he comes over, it always feels the same. 
But this time it felt a little different. He wasn't going to your room to hang out with the others, he was going to have sex with you. Going to make out with you, to be more than friends with you. This was going to change everything about your relationship with him, but it didn't matter right now. All that mattered was making you feel good. 
Haechan sat on your bed looking up at you, mirroring his previous actions in your bathroom. You were more nervous than ever now with him sitting there expectantly. Fixing your glasses, you placed your hand on his shoulder, climbing on his body to straddle him. 
“Can I take your top off,” his whispered peppering soft kisses down your neck. 
You nod, giving him permission. Haechan hooks his fingers on the hem of your top, lifting the fabric off your body. He feels like he's 16 again, like this is his first time seeing a woman's chest, except it's yours, which is much more important. He starts kissing you slow, his hands naturally finding their way to your chest. You shuddered at the way his cold palms molded your breasts, shaky breaths leaving your mouth and into his every once in a while. 
Haechan started kissing down your jaw, then to your neck, making tilt your head to give him more access. His hands leave your chest for a bit, placing them on your back pulling you closer to his body. Your nipples touch the cold of the print on his graphic tee, stimulating you more while he leaves wet messy kisses all over your skin. 
He kisses lower and lower, lips now pressing against the top of your breast. You look down at him, the most dreamy expression ever when his eyes meet your framed ones. You look so cute in them, but still the sexist person he'd ever seen in glasses. 
You let out a soft moan feeling his tongue swipe against your nipples, the feeling being foreign after being on such a long dry spell. He licks the stiffened peak again, then sucking it while staring up at you. 
“So pretty,” he whispers on your skin. 
You're soaking at this point, his touch and voice bewitching you. Haechan holds you tight, sucking your nipples softly. His eyes hung low, the stare making you squirm. You watched as his brows furrowed hearing your soft whines, his hand gripping the fabric on your hip. He releases your breast from his mouth with a soft pop, the cold air hitting the wet peak making you shiver. 
“Do you think of me when you touch yourself?”
Your eyes dart to his face, glasses slipping down your nose bit by bit. “I..”
Haechan smirks, his soft lips kissing your chest once again while his hands roam your body. “I know you do,” he whispers. “You're the most obvious person I know.” 
Haechan slips his hands to your lower back, his fingers dipping lower and lower into your shorts. He can't help himself, squeezing the flesh in his hands like a stress ball making you push into his palms more. 
“I want you to show me,” he says, words muffled in your neck while he kisses it. 
“S-show you,” you question.
“I want you to show me what you do when you make yourself feel good,” he adds. “Is that okay?” 
You were intoxicated in your home and he's barely touched you yet, but his voice and eyes did something else to you. You needed more. You nodded, lips parting slightly when he takes his hands out your shorts. 
“Stand up.” 
You remove your leg from his side, removing yourself from his lap. Haechan stood up, body so close to yours you could feel the heat emitting off of him. He tugged at the bottom of his shirt, lips curling into a small smile. “Wanna help?” 
You nodded slowly, hands lifting his shirt above his head. His eyes disappeared behind the fabric but once it was off him, they connected with yours once again, making your core clench around nothing. You tossed his shirt on the floor, eyes trailing down his soft but toned body. You've seen him shirtless plenty of times but this was different. This felt different. 
Haechan's gaze lingered on you as he unhooked his belt, the sound of the metal clinging sending a shiver down your spine. He let them fall, showcasing black underwear to you. Haechan leans down, kissing you softly as he steps out of the pool of fabric, groaning in your mouth softly when your chest touches his. 
“Now,” he says softly, pulling away from you. Taking your hand, he pulls you to the side of your bed, climbing onto the mattress. Haechan plops down, leaning his head on your headboard in the dreamiest way possible. “I need those off” – he points to your shorts – “and you right here.” He pays the spot between his legs. 
Your fingers dig into your waistline, hesitating for what feels like an eternity. Your heart was beating rapidly,  with every second feeling like years. Haechan watched you pull the last piece of decency off your body, soaking in every bit of bare skin he laid his eyes on. He needed to feel you, touch you, eat you. But first he wanted to see you. 
Climbing on the bed, he sensed how anxious you were, wrapping his arms around your body once you settled between his legs. And just like that, you were like putty in his hands, immediately melting in his touch letting him run his hands all over your skin, groping at you wherever he liked. 
“Spread those legs for me pretty,” he said into your ear, smiling when you obeyed. His fingertips trail lines in your hips, soon moving down your legs. He could barely control himself, hands moving closer and closer to your soaked core, the actions making you bring your knees together. 
“Shit,” you mumbled, face hot as you witnessed your glasses fog bit by bit. 
“Do you always wear your glasses during sex” he asked, kissing behind your ear softly. 
“Y-yes, why?”
“I want you to take them off for me.” Haechan laughs to himself softly when you sit up, turning to him with a confused expression. 
“But then I-I can't see,” you say, a slight whine in your voice. 
“I'll do that for you.” Haechan removes the frames from your face gently, folding them and placing them on your lamp table. “I want you to focus on how you feel and what I say. Can you do that for me?” 
His milky tone, the way his lips brushed on your earlobe, his soft touch between your thighs. You'd do anything he asks for in a heartbeat. “Y-yes.” 
“Good girl,” he praises. “You know what to do.”
Haechan watched you start rubbing your clit slowly, biting his lip softly. His hands continued rubbing your thighs, soothing you as you leaned into his chest more. You feel his heavy breathing on your back, your lids going heavy once you insert two fingers inside. 
Haechan was rock solid at the point, watching your fingers move in and out of you, the squelch your pussy made being music to his ears. “Fuck,” he mumbles in your ear.
You clench around your fingers to his voice, the breath tickling your ears making you squirm between him. Your eyes are closed, so you don't see the way he's looking beside you, watching the way your face twitches at every feeling or sound. His stomach flips when you gasp at the sudden feeling his hands on your chest, small moans escaping to the added pleasure. 
“I love that sound,” he says, the sound of your pussy getting louder when you finger yourself faster. 
“S-stop,” you stutter. 
“Are you embarrassed,” he chuckles softly, nipping at your ear, not taking his eyes off the scene between your legs. You gulp and nod, a small whine spilling from your lips. 
“God you're so cute.” Haechan removes one hand off your chest, creeping his fingers back between your legs. “Almost as cute as this pretty clit right here.” 
“H-haechan..” 
He started rubbing small, slow circles, your moans increasing in volume. You kept fingering yourself, but you needed more. You needed his cock, his mouth, his pretty hands. The thought of him finger fucking you till you came stimulated you, making your hips move on their own, grinding against his fingers.
“Tell me what you're thinking about.” He had pressure on his fingers making a whine leave you plump lips. “What do you want from me Y/N?” 
“I..I want you Haechan,” you answer breathlessly. “I want you to make me cum.” Your hand pumps your hole faster, wetness coating your fingers running down your hands. His breath tickles your neck as he begins to grind on you. Eyes closed, head falling back on his shoulder, you let your hips move on their own. You're so close, the feeling of his chest rising on your back aiding to the pleasure throughout your body. 
“I want you inside me,” you moan softly, brows furrowing. 
“How bad,” he teased, a smile on his lips. He rubbed your clit faster, starting to feel your legs shaking. Your moans increased, whines and whimpers freely falling from your lips. He knew you were going to cum. 
“So, so bad,” you whispered. “I-Im gonna cum haechan..” 
“Cum for me,” he whispered. “You're so pretty when you cum.” 
You pumped your fingers harder and faster, the sound of your wet hole filling his ears. You came around your fingers, pussy squeezing tight on the digits inside you. Haechan kept rubbing your clit, the feeling of his fingers on the sensitive bud making you shiver on his shoulder. 
“There you go Y/N,” he said softly, his other hand rubbing your thigh. “Let it out. God, you make the prettiest sounds.” 
You pulled your fingers from between your legs, hand resting on your other thigh as you breathed heavily against his body. That's when you feel his hand take yours, bringing it to his mouth. Haechan wrapped his lips around your fingers, sucking your arousal off your fingers. 
“Haechan,” you whined, hanging your head low in embarrassment. He chuckled, taking your face and turning it to him. He kisses you softly, the taste of your own cum on his lips. “I need you so bad,” you mumbled on his lips. 
“Lay down for me okay?” 
You nodded, lifting yourself from his body, allowing him to move from behind you. You reached for your glasses, putting them on, clearing your blurry vision. When you looked back up, Haechan was pulling his underwear off his body, hard on so big, it hit his stomach. 
“Holy fuck,” you mumbled to yourself. He was big. Bigger than you imagined, and it makes you wonder where he was hiding it all this time under his skinny jeans. 
“Staring isn't very polite, you know.” 
His voice broke your thoughts, making your eyes snap back up to his face. Dark locks of hair fell in his eyes, that same teasing grin on his mouth. He looked like a dream– bruises and bangs on his face, knuckles red, but still hot. He crawled onto the bed, yanking your body lower on the bed by your ankles. 
“You have some condoms,” he said, eyes scanning your naked body. 
“I-In my drawer.” You point to your bedside table, eyes following him as he bends over you to open the drawer. You were practically drooling at this point, the thirstiest you've ever been and it was starting to become too real to be true. Haechan takes an unopened packet from the drawer, shutting it right after. Your eyes don't leave him as he sits back up and opens the plastic, a gulp going down your throat in anticipation. 
“If at any point you wanna stop, just let me know,” he says, sliding the condoms on. Haechan watches your facial expressions and body language. You were excited, he could tell. But you were also the most nervous he's ever seen you. “Listen,” he says softly. His fingertips glide on the inner side of your thighs, hands pushing your legs up by the back of your knees. “I want you to look at me the whole time. Can you do that?” 
The softness in the way he spoke felt a bit unfamiliar to you, you immediately softened nodding at his request. “Y-yeah.”
Haechan licks his lips, lining himself with you. A small gasp fell from your lips feeling his tip stretch you open. He pushed himself in a bit more, watching your face slowly contort silently. Haechan held your legs up to your chest, eyes never leaving the view of his dick disappearing between your legs.
“Fuck,” he sighed, the feeling of your tight pussy almost making him cum right then and there. He looks back up at your face, your eyes are closed, head resting on your pillow. Your glasses are crooked due to the position of your head, but it's sexy to him. 
Haechan starts thrusting in you slowly, eyes shut as he moves taking in the feeling. But you keep looking at him. You keep staring at the way the muscles in his arms slightly flex, you stare at the way his chest moves after every deep breath he takes. He must've known you were staring because he opens his eyes, staring at you fucked out face. 
“Youre.. you're so big,” you mumbled, voice shaky from the pleasure. 
Haechan opens his eyes, staring down at you through his bangs as he thrusted deeper. “Keep saying things like that, and you'll boost my ego.” He snaps his hips into yours, his dick reaching further into you. Haechan speeds up his movements, his hands gripping your legs tighter, pushing them closer to your chest. You tried you best to look at him, but with every movement, you felt your vision go blurry with pleasure. Your moans and whimpers filled the room accompanied with his grunts and the sound of the bed. 
Haechan lets go of your legs, letting himself fall onto your body. He held himself up, one hand on your hip and the other holding himself. You let your eyes close for one second, but Haechan is quick to slap your hip, making you open your eyes. You stare at him, raising your hand and fixing your glasses with your brows furrowed at the feeling of him inside you. 
“Don't look away,” he moans softly. “Keep looking at me..keep those eyes on me.” 
And you did, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. Haechan lets out a small hiss feeling you squeeze around him. 
“Faster,” you moaned shakily, breath tickling his nose. Haechan melts when your face twists in pleasure, brows scrunching with every moment. 
“Fuck, right there,” you whimpers, pulling him closer. Haechan kisses you, you both moaning and grunting into each other's mouths. 
“You like this Y/N? You like when I fuck you good,” he groans, on your mouth.
“Yes, yes.” You nod fast, eyes stuck in his as he plows you into the mattress. The sound of your skin colliding, bed creaking, moans filling the air over stimulated you along with his raspy voice, saying the dirtiest things in your ear. 
He reaches up, removing your glasses from your face and throwing them somewhere on your bed. Too fucked out to even respond, you shut your eyes letting him bury his head in your neck, leaving wet kisses all over your skin. 
“I'm so close,” you moaned, legs starting to shake on either side of him. 
“Cum for me,” he grunts. “I want you to cum around my cock right now.” He reaches down between your bodies, fingers rubbing your clit fast. Haechan has had sex a million times, but nothing could compare to the way you felt squeezing around him. The way your moans rose in pitch when you came, the way you said his name. 
“Haechan,” you whispered, nails pressing into the skin on his back. “Oh my God, fuck..”
He kept fucking you into the mattress, chasing his own high right after yours. “Just a little more baby, fuck..”
You opened your eyes, brows furrowed as you watched his body rise, hands grasping your waist tight. His thumbs pressed into your sides, holding your body close to his while he plowed into you. Even blurry, he was a dream to look at. His hair hung in his face, biting his lip as he chased his orgasm. 
But better get, you looked like an angel underneath him. The sweat on your body, your face, hair, sounds. Perfect. His eyes followed your hand, watching them as one went to your nipple and the other went between your legs. 
“Fuck,” he kissed. The tight feeling in his stomach started getting tighter. Haechan’s jaw dropped, brows scrunched as he came, a strangled moan escaping his throat. 
Haechan stopped thrusting, pulling out of you after a couple of seconds. The both of you sat in the silence of heavy breathing, his hands still on your waist. You reached to grab your glasses, finding them on the blanket and putting them on lazily. That's when you look at Haechan, his blushed  cheeks, sweat on his forehead, trying to catch his breath. 
“Are you-”
“Can we-”
Both of you stop and look at each other. The air starts to feel heavy for some reason, the silence giving you time to think about what you were going to say. Can we go on a date?
You gulped at the way his eyes won't stop staring into yours. His lips part, eyes narrowing when he rubs his thumbs on your sides, soothing your very obvious nerves. 
“Say it,” he says softly, 
“Can we… be more than friends?” 
You blinked, Haechan staring at you with a blank expression. Suddenly he began laughing, hanging his head low after you spoke. 
“What,” you questioned, heart sinking into your stomach. 
“Why did you ask me that,” he chuckled, grinning from ear to ear at you question. 
You swallowed, expression hardening at his words. “Did I say something wrong?” 
Haechan noticed the tremble in your words and immediately stopped laughing, realizing that you were very much serious. Haechan leaned down, his body on yours and head in your neck. He kissed your skin softly, one hand holding him up while the other caressed your skin. 
You watch him, feeling yourself melting into his soft touch. His fingertips dragged along your abdomen, sending chills down your spine. “H-haechan,” you said softly. “Answer my question.”
Instead of answering you, he moved from your neck to your lips. He captured you in a soft, sweet kiss, turned deep and passionate. Something about the way he kisses you at the moment feels romantic, as if he's trying to communicate his feelings without speaking, but you need him to say it. You need him to speak to you.
Haechan pulled away from you, his eyes flickering between your eyes and lips. “Did that answer your question,” he said softly. 
You shook your head, making him laugh softly. “Answer.” 
He smiled, licking his lips before speaking. “I can be whatever you want me to be.”
“Well..” you paused before looking  up at him, eyes staring into his soul. The silence felt like an eternity between you both, but it soon disappeared when you spoke. 
“Can you be mine?”
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mononijikayu · 30 days
Text
drunk tonight — ryomen sukuna.
Tumblr media
"Yes, we can." he murmurs, his voice a soft, dominant caress that contrasts sharply with the intensity of the moment. His lips press against your jaw with a sharp, possessive kiss, and you feel your head loll against his, unable to escape the overwhelming sensations. His words are both a promise and a demand, a statement that attempts to bridge the gap between the pain and the passion you’re experiencing. "Because I love you. And you love me."
GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;
WARNING/S: nsfw, angst, toxic romance, hurt/no comfort, break up, fighting, crying, hurt, physical touch, sexual content, sadness, pain, grief, unhappy ending, depictions of toxic relationship, depiction of grief, depiction of fighting, depiction of sexual content, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of sexual context, mention of loneliness, toxic ex-boyfriend! sukuna, long suffering ex-girlfriend! reader;
WORD COUNT: 9.4k words
NOTE: the thought bubble says "yes, we can." and "because i love you. and you love me."; i wrote this a while back but i was waiting for the poll to end. but if sukuna wins, then he definitely has his stuff posted first. somehow, sukuna always wins my polls 😆😆😆 anyway, i hope you love this one too!!! i love you all 🫶🫶🫶
masterlist
if you want to, tip! <3
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YOU DON’T WANT TO ANSWER THE PHONE. Late at night, your phone buzzes, its vibration cutting through the silence like a knife. You glance at the screen, feeling a chill run down your spine as you recognize the number. It’s a number you know all too well, one that you’ve tried to erase from your mind but could never quite forget, no matter how hard you tried.
A sigh escapes your lips, your heart sinking as Sukuna’s name flashes across the screen. It’s a name that once brought you comfort, excitement, even love. But now, it’s just a reminder of everything that went wrong, of the hurt and the scars that never fully healed.
You’ve blocked him on everything—social media, messaging apps, even email. You thought you had cut off every possible avenue for him to reach you, but he always remembered your phone number. 
He was always good at that—memorizing details, knowing exactly how to reach you when you least wanted him to. It was one of the things that drew you to him in the first place, his ability to know you so well, to be so in tune with you. But now, it’s a curse, a reminder that no matter how far you try to run, he can always find you.
The text is a mess of jumbled letters and half-formed words, the kind of message that only makes sense to the sender. You can almost hear his deep, slurred voice in your head as you read it, the way he used to talk when he was too far gone, too deep into the bottle. He’s drunk, that much is obvious, and the thought makes your stomach churn.
You roll your eyes, frustration bubbling up inside you. There’s nothing worse than a drunk ex-text. It’s a toxic mix of emotions—regret, anger, longing—all wrapped up in a few poorly typed words. You know how this goes, how the night will unravel if you let it. 
He’ll keep texting, maybe even call, and each message will be more desperate, more incoherent than the last. He’ll say things he doesn’t mean, make promises he can’t keep, and you’ll be left holding the pieces of a conversation that never should have happened.
For a moment, you consider ignoring it, just turning off your phone and pretending you never saw it. But you know that won’t make it go away. You know that as long as Sukuna has your number, as long as he has a way to reach you, this cycle will keep repeating itself.
You take a deep breath, your fingers hovering over the screen. You could respond, tell him to stop, to leave you alone once and for all. But part of you knows that won’t work either. You’ve told him before, and yet here you are, staring at another late-night message from the man you once loved.
Your thumb hovers over the message, the words blurring in your tired eyes. You want to be strong, to resist the pull of old emotions and familiar patterns. But there’s a part of you that’s still connected to him, a part that wants to reach out, to understand why he can’t just let you go.
But you know better. You’ve been down this road too many times before. And as much as it hurts, as much as it feels like tearing a piece of your heart out, you know what you have to do. With a sigh, you delete the message, your chest tightening as you do. You close your eyes, trying to block out the guilt, the sadness, the tiny voice in your head that says maybe this time will be different. But you know it won’t. It never is.
You can’t even muster the energy to be angry. It’s all too familiar, the cycle of hurt and regret that you both keep getting sucked into. You start typing back, your fingers trembling slightly with the weight of it all.
“Sukuna, stop. Wherever you are, just stop.” You hesitate, your thumb hovering over the screen. But you need to say this—you need to finally put it to rest. “This hurts, all of it. It’s a mess, and we’ve broken up. You need to stop chasing after me. We can’t go back.”
There’s a long pause. You wonder if he’ll leave it at that, but another text pings through.
“I can’t… I can’t live with this without trying. Please…”
You swallow hard, feeling the ache in your chest, but you’ve made up your mind. This is a wound that needs to heal, and reopening it will only make it worse.
“Sukuna, I’m done. You need to be, too.” You send the message, and this time, you turn off your phone. The silence that follows is almost deafening, but it’s the first step towards finally moving on.
You purse your lips, staring at the screen as his last message burns into your mind. You know he’s just too drunk tonight. He doesn’t really want you back—not the way he thinks he does. He’s just broken inside, sad and high, and you can feel the weight of his loneliness pressing through the words.
A lump forms in your throat as the urge to cry wells up again. It hurts because deep down, you know the truth. He doesn’t want you back. He’s just lonely, aching for something familiar to fill the void. You’ve been there before, reaching out in desperation, hoping for comfort in the arms of someone who used to mean everything. But that was then, and this is now.
You type slowly, forcing yourself to keep going, even though each word feels like a knife twisting deeper into your heart. "Sukuna, you’re not really after me. You’re just lonely and sad, and I get that. But this… us… it’s over. We ended things for a reason."
Your fingers hesitate over the next part, but you push through the pain. "We hurt each other too much. I didn’t want to be with you anymore because all we did was tear each other apart. And I don’t want that for either of us."
You take a shaky breath, knowing what you need to say, even if it feels like ripping off a bandage from a wound that hasn’t fully healed. "So put down the phone, Sukuna. It’s time to go home. You’re just drunk tonight.”
You hit send, and the tears that you’ve been holding back finally spill over. You’ve been strong for so long, but tonight, in the quiet of your room, you allow yourself to feel the full weight of everything you’ve lost and everything you’ve chosen to leave behind.
You ended things because you knew it was the right thing to do, but that doesn’t make it any easier. And even though you’re telling him to move on, a part of you is whispering the same words to yourself. It’s time to let go, for real this time. It’s time to heal, even if that means facing the pain head-on and accepting that some things can never be fixed.
Your phone rings, and your heart sinks as you see his name flashing across the screen. You hesitate, your thumb hovering over the decline button. You know you shouldn’t answer, know that nothing good can come from this. But some part of you—maybe out of concern, maybe out of habit—hits the green button.
“Sukuna, don’t—”
“I’m on my way.” he interrupts, his voice slurred but filled with a determination that chills you. “I need to see you. We need to talk.”
Your stomach drops, and a sense of dread washes over you. “No, Sukuna. Don’t do this. You’re not thinking straight.”
There’s a pause on the other end, a brief silence where you can hear him breathing heavily, as if he’s fighting to keep his composure. “I have to see you.” he repeats, softer this time, almost pleading. “Please. I…..I want to see you. I wanna…I wanna be with you.”
“Sukuna, please.” you say, your voice trembling. “You’re drunk, you’re not yourself. Turn around and go home. You’re only going to make this harder—for both of us.”
“I don’t care.” he snaps, and you can hear the desperation creeping into his voice. A desperation that’s never been there before. “I can’t keep living like this, pretending I don’t need you. I’ll be there soon.”
Panic starts to set in. You feel trapped, knowing that no amount of reasoning will get through to him tonight. “Sukuna, if you show up here, I won’t open the door. I mean it.”
There’s a harsh laugh on the other end. “You will. You always do.”
His words hit you like a punch to the gut because they’re true, or at least they were. You can’t deny the history between you two, the countless times you’ve stood at the edge of this same precipice, teetering between resolve and surrender. 
How many times had you given in, opened the door, and let him back into your life, even when every fiber of your being screamed that you shouldn’t? You’ve lost count, the memories blurring together into a painful montage of late-night confessions, tearful apologies, and broken promises.
Each time, you told yourself it would be the last. You would stand firm, hold your ground, and finally cut the ties that bound you to him. But then he would show up—vulnerable, raw, and desperate—and the walls you had so carefully constructed would crumble in an instant. 
He knew exactly how to reach you, how to twist the knife just enough to remind you of what you once had, what you once were. And for a fleeting moment, you’d believe that maybe, just maybe, things could be different this time.
But they never were. The darkness that surrounded him, that clung to your relationship like a shroud, always found a way to seep back in. It would start slowly—a harsh word here, a lingering silence there—but soon, it would consume you both, dragging you back into a toxic cycle of pain and regret. Each time you let him back in, you lost a little more of yourself, a little more of the light that once defined who you were.
But you can’t do that anymore. You can’t keep losing pieces of yourself to a love that no longer serves you, to a relationship that has long since become a shadow of what it once was. You’ve fought too hard to reclaim your life, to step out of the darkness and into the light of something better, something healthier. You’ve built yourself back up, brick by brick, and you can’t let him tear it all down again.
This time, it has to be different. This time, you can’t open the door, no matter how much he begs, no matter how much it hurts to turn him away. You can’t let him drag you back into the darkness that you fought so hard to escape. You deserve more—more than late-night texts filled with empty promises, more than a love that only thrives in the shadows. You deserve peace, stability, and a future that isn’t haunted by the ghosts of a past you can’t change.
So you take a deep breath, steeling yourself against the familiar pull of his words, the seductive lure of what could have been. You remind yourself of the pain, the nights spent crying, the days filled with anxiety and doubt. You remind yourself that you’ve survived without him, that you’ve thrived in ways you never could have imagined when you were still caught in his web.
And as much as it hurts, as much as it feels like a betrayal of everything you once held dear, you know that you have to let him go. You have to close the door, lock it, and walk away—this time for good. Because if you don’t, you’ll never truly be free. And freedom, you realize, is worth more than any fleeting moment of comfort he could offer. You can’t let him pull you back into the darkness. You’ve come too far, and it’s time to finally step into the light.
“No, I won’t.” you say, forcing steel into your voice. “Not this time. If you care about me at all, you’ll turn around and go home. You’ll stop this before it gets worse.”
He doesn’t respond right away, and for a moment, you think maybe, just maybe, he’ll listen. But then he speaks again, his voice rough and broken. “I’m almost there. Just… wait for me.”
Your heart is racing now, your mind scrambling for what to do. “Sukuna, if you come here, I’ll call the police. I’m serious.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end, and then, finally, silence. You think he’s hung up, but then he speaks again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry for everything. But I have to try.”
He hangs up before you can respond, leaving you standing there, staring at your phone with your heart pounding in your chest. You feel sick, torn between the history you share and the need to protect yourself from the man he’s become.
You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside you. You don’t want to call the police, don’t want to escalate things that far, but you need to be ready. You need to stay strong, for your own sake.
With trembling hands, you lock your door, turn off the lights, and sit down on the edge of your bed, phone clutched tightly in your hand. You wait, praying that he’ll turn around, that he’ll finally realize that what you had is gone, and it’s time to let it go. But deep down, you know this isn’t over—not tonight, not until he’s standing at your door, and you’re forced to make the hardest decision of your life.
The minutes tick by slowly, each one heavier than the last. You sit in the dark, your breath shallow and your nerves frayed, listening for any sound that might signal his arrival. Every car that passes by your window makes your heart jump, your mind conjuring images of him stumbling out, determined and reckless.
You think back to the times when things were good between you two, when his intensity was something you admired, even loved. But that intensity had turned into something else, something darker and more destructive, and you couldn’t let it consume you both any longer.
Your phone vibrates again, pulling you out of your thoughts. Another message from Sukuna:
“I’m here.”
You freeze, your blood running cold. He’s close, maybe right outside. You stand up slowly, moving toward the window with a mix of dread and resolve. Peering through the curtains, you see his figure in the dim light, leaning against a lamppost across the street, his silhouette unmistakable.
He looks up, and even from this distance, you can see the torment in his eyes, the way his shoulders sag with the weight of whatever he’s carrying. But you can’t let that sway you. You’ve made your choice, and you need to stand by it.
Your phone vibrates again, the familiar buzz sending a jolt through your already frayed nerves. You don’t even need to look at the screen to know it’s him. The notification hangs in the air like a weight, pressing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe.
With a trembling hand, you unlock your phone, the brightness of the screen almost blinding in the darkness of your room. His message is there, short and desperate, the words filled with a plea that you’ve heard too many times before:
“Please, just open the door. We can talk, I swear. I won’t make a scene.”
You close your eyes, willing yourself to stay calm, to keep the tears at bay. His voice echoes in your mind, the deep, gravelly tone that once brought you comfort now only serves to break you down. You can almost picture him on the other side of that door, his eyes wide with that familiar mix of anger and sadness, his posture tense with anticipation. He’s close, so close that you can feel his presence like a shadow creeping over your heart.
It would be so easy to give in, to let him in one more time, to listen to whatever promises he has prepared for tonight. After all, you’ve done it before—opened that door despite knowing it would lead to nothing but more heartache. But tonight feels different. Tonight, there’s a finality in the air, a sense that if you open that door now, it won’t just be another mistake; it will be the last one, the one that shatters whatever remnants of strength you’ve managed to hold onto.
You swallow hard, your throat tight with the urge to cry. You know him too well; you know he won’t leave unless you confront him, unless you face him head-on. He’s stubborn like that, relentless in his pursuit of what he wants, even when it’s something—or someone—that’s no longer his to claim. 
But you also know, deep in your bones, that opening that door is the last thing you should do. It’s a line you can’t cross, not this time. Because if you do, you’ll be dragged right back into the storm you’ve fought so hard to escape. You’ll be pulled into his orbit, where everything is chaotic and intense, where love and pain are intertwined so tightly that you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.
You take a shaky breath, your hand hovering over the door handle as your mind races. What could he possibly say that he hasn’t already said? What could he promise that he hasn’t already broken? The answers are clear, but the pull of the past is strong, and it tugs at you with a force that’s hard to resist.
But you have to resist. You have to stay strong, for your own sake. Because you know that once you open that door, once you let him back in, all the progress you’ve made, all the nights you’ve spent rebuilding yourself, will be undone. You’ll be right back where you started—lost, hurt, and wondering why you ever let him back into your life.
Your heart aches with the weight of it all, but you know what you have to do. You know that tonight, you have to choose yourself, even if it means walking away from someone you once loved with every part of your being. 
So you close your eyes, forcing yourself to breathe through the pain, to let it wash over you without letting it consume you. You clench your fists, nails digging into your palms as you fight back the urge to cry, to scream, to throw open that door and let everything unravel.
But you don’t. You stay where you are, standing firm in the decision you’ve made. Because tonight, for the first time in a long time, you’re choosing to protect your heart instead of breaking it all over again.
You steady your breathing, forcing yourself to stay calm as the reality of the situation sinks in. Each vibration of your phone feels like a pulse of pain, a reminder of the emotional battleground you’re standing on. You know that answering the door would only open the floodgates, allowing the turmoil and chaos of the past to flood back into your life. You’ve fought so hard to reclaim your peace, and you refuse to let it slip away now.
With a deep breath, you take a moment to center yourself. You remind yourself of the reasons you’ve decided to cut ties, the countless times you’ve faced heartache, and the strength it took to rebuild your life. This decision, though painful, is a necessary step to ensure you don’t lose everything you’ve worked so hard to achieve.
You get up and move to your front door, standing just a few inches away. The cold, unyielding surface feels like a barrier between you and the chaos you’ve left behind. You listen for any sounds—footsteps, a knock—but the night is eerily quiet, punctuated only by the occasional rumble of distant traffic. It’s as if the world itself is holding its breath, waiting for you to make the choice that will define this moment.
Another message from Sukuna pings through, and you resist the urge to check it. Instead, you focus on the decision at hand, the choice you’ve already made. You know that the best way to move forward is to keep the past where it belongs—behind you.
You glance at your phone once more and see that Sukuna has called you again. Your heart races, but you refuse to answer. You let the call go to voicemail, the familiar chime sounding distant and detached. Each unanswered call is a step towards reclaiming your autonomy, towards making it clear that you will not be dragged back into the emotional mess that has defined your relationship.
The minutes tick by slowly, each one feeling like an eternity. Finally, there’s silence—no more texts, no more calls. You take a deep breath, letting the calm settle over you. You feel the weight of your decision settle into your bones, a mixture of relief and sorrow. You’ve chosen to protect yourself, to preserve the hard-earned peace you’ve fought for.
As you turn away from the door, you feel a mixture of sadness and strength. The pain of seeing Sukuna’s name, the torment of his pleas, is still fresh, but you’ve managed to hold firm. You’ve chosen not to open the door, not to let him back into your life. This choice, as difficult as it was, is a testament to your resolve, to your commitment to yourself.
You sit back down, wrapping yourself in a blanket of quiet determination. The tears you’ve fought so hard to keep at bay finally come, not as a sign of weakness but as a release of all the emotions you’ve been holding inside. They’re a reminder of your humanity, of the depth of your feelings, but they’re also a sign of your strength—strength you needed to make the right decision, no matter how hard it was.
You’ve done what you needed to do to protect your heart, and now, you allow yourself to grieve, to heal, and to move forward. You close your eyes, letting the tears flow, and in the silence of your room, you begin the process of letting go, knowing that you’ve taken a crucial step toward finding the peace and happiness you deserve.
You reach for your phone, your hands trembling slightly as you begin to type out a message. You need to be firm, clear, and compassionate, even if you’re struggling with your own emotions. You know that any form of communication right now will only complicate things, but you also want to make sure Sukuna understands the finality of your decision.
With a deep breath, you type:
“Sukuna, I can’t talk to you right now. Please, just go home. We can’t have this conversation tonight. I need some space, and I need you to respect that. Please understand and go home.”
You hit send, watching as the message is delivered. For a moment, you feel a flicker of hope that this will be the end of it, that he’ll respect your wishes and leave you alone. You’ve made your boundaries clear, and now it’s up to him to honor them.
Minutes pass in tense silence, and your phone stays quiet. You sit back down, trying to calm your racing heart, focusing on the quiet around you instead of the anxiety that has taken root in your chest.
But then, a new message comes through. You don’t even need to look to know that it’s from Sukuna. With a heavy heart, you open it:
“I just need to see you. I’m sorry for everything, but I can’t let this end like this. Please.”
You can almost hear the desperation in his words, the anguish that comes from knowing he’s losing you. But you also know that this isn’t just about you and him anymore. It’s about your own well-being, your need to set boundaries and stick to them, even when it’s incredibly hard.
You type back:
“No, Sukuna. This is not the time. I’ve made my decision, and I need you to respect it. I can’t keep doing this. Please, just go home.”
You hit send, feeling the weight of your words settle heavily on your shoulders. You’re asking for something that feels almost impossible—to respect a boundary when emotions are high, when both of you are vulnerable. But it’s necessary. 
You put your phone aside and try to find a way to soothe the emotional storm inside you. You remind yourself of why you made this decision, of the personal growth you’ve achieved, and the need to maintain your peace. You try to focus on the positives of your life and the future you’re working toward, hoping that with time, the pain of this moment will fade and you’ll find a way to heal.
Hours tick by slowly, each minute feeling like an eternity. Finally, there’s a quiet relief in knowing that, at least for now, you’ve done all you can. You’ve set your boundaries and communicated your needs as clearly as possible.
You let yourself close your eyes, allowing the exhaustion to wash over you. The road to recovery will be long and fraught with moments like this, but for tonight, you’ve taken a crucial step toward reclaiming your life. As you drift into a fitful sleep, you hold onto the hope that tomorrow will bring clarity and a renewed sense of peace, allowing you to continue moving forward.
▬ι══════════════ι▬
IF THERE WAS A LOVE STORY WORTH MENTIONING, IT’S YOURS. Because in truth, it wasn’t a love story. It was a painful hurt instead. The romance between you and Sukuna was a tumultuous symphony of passion and pain, a story that oscillated between intense highs and devastating lows. It was a love that consumed everything in its path, leaving behind a trail of broken dreams and shattered hearts. 
You, the good girl with a heart full of hope and idealism, and him, the quintessential troublemaker whose very presence seemed to stir chaos wherever he went. It was a match made in hell, an explosive combination of purity and defiance that sparked with an almost palpable intensity. 
From the beginning, there was an undeniable chemistry between you two, a magnetic pull that drew you into Sukuna’s orbit. You were drawn to his raw energy, the way he seemed to live on the edge of every emotion, pushing boundaries and challenging norms. His life was a whirlwind of excitement and unpredictability, and it was a stark contrast to the more controlled and orderly world you inhabited.
At first, the contrasts were thrilling. Your calm demeanor and responsible nature seemed to balance out his reckless tendencies, creating a dynamic that felt electric and invigorating. You believed that your love could be the force that tamed his wildness, that your stability could anchor him amidst his stormy existence.
But as time went on, the initial thrill gave way to a more complex and painful reality. Sukuna’s troublemaking ways began to seep into every aspect of your relationship, turning what was once exciting into something exhausting. His impulsiveness, once charming, became a source of constant stress and conflict. The very qualities that attracted you to him started to feel like burdens, and the harmony you sought began to slip through your fingers.
The highs were dizzying—moments of intense connection and fiery passion that made you feel alive and on top of the world. But the lows were equally devastating, each conflict leaving deeper wounds, each argument a reminder of how differently you saw the world. The love that had once seemed like a perfect escape from your own constraints now felt like a whirlwind of chaos that you couldn’t control.
Your attempts to bring order and stability to the relationship often clashed with Sukuna’s need for freedom and rebellion. The more you tried to ground him, the more he resisted, and the cycle of conflict and resolution became a relentless pattern. The love that once felt like a daring adventure turned into a series of battles, each one leaving both of you more scared than the last.
Ultimately, the contrast between your worlds proved too great. The boundaries you set were repeatedly crossed, the promises made were broken too many times. The passion that had once ignited your connection became the fuel for your destruction. What began as a match made in hell had devolved into a battlefield of emotional devastation.
You were left to pick up the pieces of a love that had burned too brightly, too destructively. The remnants of your time together were a stark reminder of the dangers of mixing such opposing forces. In the end, the love you shared was a powerful testament to the intense beauty and agony of a relationship that, despite its fiery start, was doomed from the beginning.
From the beginning, the relationship was marked by a magnetic pull that was impossible to ignore. Sukuna's charisma and intensity drew you in, his presence filling every space with an almost palpable energy. There was a fire in his eyes, a promise of something deeper and more profound, and you were captivated by the allure of his raw power and unfiltered emotions.
At first, it felt like a dream. His touch was electric, his words charged with a potent mix of desire and vulnerability. You would get lost in his gaze, swept away by the intensity of his kisses, believing that this was what true love was supposed to feel like. Every argument, every make-up, every moment of passion felt like a confirmation of the bond you shared.
You couldn’t stand it anymore, how tired you were. How truly full of it you were. how emotionally drained you’ve been. You found yourself face-to-face with Sukuna in the dimly lit living room. He stood close, his gaze intense and his voice almost a whisper, yet filled with an undeniable gravity.
"I'm sorry." Sukuna said, his eyes searching yours for some sign of forgiveness. "I never meant for things to get so out of hand. I just... I can't stand the thought of losing you."
You could feel the weight of his words, the sincerity mixed with a touch of desperation. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.
"You say that now, but it feels like we’re always back here, fighting and making up," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "I thought this was supposed to be different. I thought we were building something real."
Sukuna reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek with a gentleness that belied his earlier anger. "It is real. What we have is intense, but it’s real. I know I mess up, but I need you to understand that I can’t imagine my life without you. You’re everything to me."
You looked at him, feeling the familiar mix of pain and passion. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this, Sukuna. Every time we fight, it feels like we’re tearing each other apart. Maybe this intensity isn’t what I thought it was.”
He stepped closer, his voice filled with an earnest plea. “Please, don’t say that. We can work through this. I know I’m not perfect, but we have something special. We just need to fight for it, not let it slip away because of a few mistakes.”
You shook your head, tears welling up. “It’s not just a few mistakes. It’s the pattern, the way things keep repeating. I want to believe in us, but it’s getting harder every day. We’re not just having moments of passion anymore; we’re living in a storm.”
Sukuna’s expression softened, and he pulled you into a tight embrace. “I don’t want to be the storm in your life. I just want to be with you. Please, let me show you that we can be more than this.”
As his arms wrapped around you, the warmth of his body was a stark contrast to the cold reality of your situation. You said nothing as you leaned into the warmth of his body. The intensity of his words and the fire in his eyes were a powerful reminder of his hold on you. You forgave him that night once again, as you always did. And once again, you were trapped.
But beneath the surface of this passionate connection lay a darker undercurrent, one that grew stronger with time. Sukuna's emotional volatility was not just a fleeting characteristic; it was a core part of who he was. His moods shifted with little warning, swinging from intense affection to cold detachment. What seemed like an endearing quirk quickly revealed itself as a source of profound instability.
Sukuna's massive hand moved to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands you had painstakingly did. You were ignoring him again after your recent fight. You just wanted peace of mind from him. And you knew that he hated being ignored. You know he hated being forgotten. You were the only person in his life that dealt with him, all his everything — and to not have you there shatters him. As much, you suppose, when he shatters you by loving you.
His other hand wrapped around your side, pulling you closer against him with a possessive strength. You felt the heat of his body pressing against yours, his touch both demanding and overwhelming. He leaned in, his breath hot against your neck as he started to kiss and nibble along your skin.
The kisses were intense, growing more fervent until he bit down, his teeth breaking through the delicate skin. A cry escaped your lips, a mix of pain and confusion. You could feel Sukuna speaking against your skin, his voice muffled and indistinct, but the words were lost in the haze of sensation and hurt.
The pressure of his hand on the back of your neck was unrelenting, anchoring you to him and heightening the intensity of the moment. It was only when his fingers pressed firmly against the nape of your neck that everything snapped into focus. The sharp reality of the situation cut through the fog, pulling you back to the present.
The biting pain, the tight grip, and the overwhelming closeness were all too much. You could see the raw, unfiltered emotion in his eyes, the storm of feelings that often clouded his judgment. In that moment, you were starkly aware of the power dynamics at play, the fine line between passion and control, and the deep-seated turmoil that defined your relationship.
The kiss, now a blend of pain and longing, was a stark reminder of the complexity of your love—both fierce and destructive. The intimacy of the touch, the raw intensity, and the sharp bite were all part of the same emotional spectrum, where passion and pain were often intertwined in ways that left you feeling vulnerable and conflicted.
You could feel your skin growing moist, a cold sweat breaking out across your entire body as you struggled to maintain your sanity against his relentless touch. Ryomen Sukuna had a way of overwhelming you, of winning you over even when you were trying to resist. His touch always managed to reach places you thought were well-guarded, stirring up sensations that you couldn’t ignore. You could feel your body betraying you, slick pooling between your legs, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside your mind.
With a swift movement, Sukuna pinned you against the wall, his body pressing hard against yours. His kisses grew even more rough and demanding, each press of his lips a reminder of the intensity and chaos that defined your relationship. His hands roamed over your chest, fingers pinching and teasing, heightening the mix of pleasure and pain.
"Sukuna, slow down. It hurts." you cried out, your voice wavering as you tried to make yourself heard over the roar of conflicting emotions. The rawness in your voice was a plea for understanding, a desperate attempt to make him see the damage being done. "Sukuna, we... oh, we won't fix anything with this."
His grip faltered for a moment, but only just. He paused, his breath ragged and heavy against your skin, his eyes dark with a mixture of frustration and desire. There was a flicker of hesitation, a moment where he seemed to question the reality of the situation. But the tension in his body remained, the emotional storm far from over.
Your heart pounded as you struggled to maintain your composure, to hold onto a shred of clarity amidst the haze of his touch. The physical connection was undeniable, but it was the emotional wreckage that left you feeling most exposed. The passion that once felt exhilarating now seemed like a dangerous force that threatened to consume you both.
"Yes, we can." he murmurs, his voice a soft, dominant caress that contrasts sharply with the intensity of the moment. His lips press against your jaw with a sharp, possessive kiss, and you feel your head loll against his, unable to escape the overwhelming sensations.
His words are both a promise and a demand, a statement that attempts to bridge the gap between the pain and the passion you’re experiencing. "Because I love you. And you love me."
The declaration hangs heavily in the air, mingling with the heat of the moment. You mewl softly, a sound of both surrender and confusion. His touch and words are a potent mix, stirring emotions that you’ve been trying to keep in check. 
In your turmoil, you find yourself grappling with the truth of his words. The love you shared is undeniable, and it’s clear he still feels it deeply. Yet, the intensity of him and the roughness of his touch make it hard to reconcile with the pain and frustration that have become a part of your relationship.
"Even if you love me….." you manage to say, your voice trembling. "We can’t fix everything like this. We’re hurting each other, Sukuna.”
He doesn’t pull away, his gaze fixed on yours with an intensity that makes it difficult to look away. The struggle between your emotions and his unyielding desire leaves you feeling torn, caught between the remnants of your past connection and the harsh reality of the present.
Sukuna’s grip remains firm, his dark red eyes not leaving yours. In this moment, the lines between love and pain blur — as it was with your relationship. The declaration of love feels both comforting and confounding, leaving you with the painful realization that while feelings might persist, the way you’re handling them is only adding to the emotional wreckage. You were in love with him as much as he was with you. But what was the point of this? Of this suffering?
But as he pleasured you, you never said anything. You just let him love you painfully, because that’s all he knew. It was a raw, visceral form of connection, a way he expressed what he felt, even if it was damaging. It was all he could give, the only way he knew how to bridge the gap between you.
As you felt him inside of you, there was a deep, painful connection that mingled with the physical sensations. It was a painful reminder of the way your love had always been—intense, consuming, and sometimes overwhelmingly conflicted. The pleasure was intertwined with the hurt, making it difficult to distinguish one from the other. 
You accepted it, allowing the moment to unfold as it did. In your mind, you grappled with the reality of your situation—recognizing that this was how Sukuna knew to express his love, even if it was fraught with pain. And so, in the midst of the storm of sensations, you let yourself be caught up in the complexity of your emotions, trying to find a semblance of understanding amidst the chaos.
Arguments became frequent, fueled by misunderstandings and a growing sense of frustration. The intensity that once seemed thrilling now felt suffocating. Sukuna's need for control and dominance clashed with your desire for independence, creating a constant struggle for power. What was once exhilarating now felt like an endless cycle of conflict and resolution, each cycle leaving deeper emotional scars you didn’t want.
The tension in the air was palpable. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, your hands clenched in frustration, while Sukuna stood across the room, his posture rigid with anger and jealousy. His eyes were fixed on you, his gaze fierce and unrelenting, the result of a recent encounter with one of your friends who had been a bit too touchy for his liking.
"You’re always so quick to run off." Sukuna snapped, his voice sharp and laced with irritation. "Why can’t you just stay and deal with things like an adult? I’ve seen the way you look at others. Do you think I’m blind?"
You turned to face him, your heart pounding with a mix of anger and desperation. "It’s not about anyone else. It’s about us. You’re always so controlling. You want to dictate every part of my life. I need space, Sukuna. I need to be able to breathe."
His eyes flared with frustration as he stepped closer, the intensity of his emotions almost tangible. "Space? That’s what you call it? I saw the way you were with him tonight. It’s like you’re trying to push me away, like you’re looking for excuses to slip through my fingers."
You stood up, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on you. "It’s not about looking for excuses. I’m not trying to push you away. I just need to feel like I can make my own choices without feeling like I’m under constant surveillance. This isn’t about him. It’s about the way you’re smothering me."
Sukuna’s frustration was evident in the way he paced the room, his fists clenched at his sides. "Smothering you? I’m just trying to hold onto what we have. If you’d stop running and actually listen, maybe we could work things out. But every time I turn around, it feels like you’re slipping further away."
"You’re not holding onto what we have, Sukuna." you said, your voice trembling. "You’re suffocating me. Every time we have an argument, you try to control me even more. I need space to figure out what I want without feeling like I’m being watched and judged every second."
Sukuna stopped pacing and looked at you with a mixture of anger and hurt. "I don’t want to control you. I want to be with you, but it feels like you’re constantly pushing me away. I just don’t know how to handle it when I see you getting close to others. It makes me feel like I’m losing you."
The room fell silent, the air thick with unresolved emotions. You could see the pain in his eyes, the fear of losing you. But you also felt the deep, suffocating grip of his jealousy and control. The love that once felt exciting now seemed like a battleground, and the constant cycle of arguments and attempts at resolution were leaving both of you emotionally drained.
"I don’t want us to keep going in circles like this, Sukuna." you said softly, your heart aching. "We need to find a way to be together without this constant struggle. Otherwise, we’re just going to keep hurting each other."
Sukuna’s gaze softened slightly, but the tension remained. "I don’t know how to change things if you won’t let me in, you know that." he said, his voice a mix of vulnerability and frustration. "I just want us to be okay, but it feels like we’re constantly fighting against each other."
You took a deep breath, trying to remain calm despite the sting of his accusation. "That wasn’t flirting. I was just being polite. And even if I was, what does it matter? You can’t keep trying to control me like this. We can’t keep doing this.”
He stepped closer, his anger palpable. "You think you’re so perfect, don’t you? Always so independent, always so self-righteous. I’m the one who’s always fighting to keep us together. And this is how you repay me? By pushing me away and seeking attention from others?"
His words cut deep, each one a painful reminder of the control he exerted over your life. "This isn’t about repaying you. It’s about being true to myself. I’m tired of feeling like I have to constantly prove my loyalty to you. I’m not your possession."
Sukuna’s face contorted with frustration, and he slammed his fist against the wall. "You think this is easy for me? Watching you slip away while I’m left here fighting to keep us from falling apart? I’m trying to hold onto something real, and you’re pushing me away."
The hurt in his voice was undeniable, a mix of jealousy and desperation. But you could see the cracks in his control, the way his need for dominance had become a cage that both of you were trapped in.
"I’m not trying to push you away." you said, your voice trembling. "I’m trying to find a way to be myself without feeling like I’m suffocating under your expectations. We’re stuck in this cycle of fighting and making up, and it’s tearing us apart."
Sukuna’s expression softened for a moment, the anger giving way to a look of vulnerability. "I just don’t want to lose you. I know I’m not perfect, but I need you to understand how much you mean to me."
You sighed, feeling the weight of his words. "I know you care, but the way you show it is suffocating. We need to find a way to be together without this constant power struggle. Otherwise, we’re just going to keep hurting each other."
The room fell silent, the intensity of the argument leaving both of you exhausted. The love that once felt like a thrilling adventure now seemed like a battlefield, with each conflict leaving deeper scars. The vibrant energy that had once sparked between you was now overshadowed by an unrelenting cycle of discord and unresolved tension.
You wrapped your arms around your chest, as though trying to hug and comfort yourself amid the emotional wreckage. Your shoulders shook slightly with the effort to maintain composure, but even more tears were inevitable.
Sukuna’s posture was a reflection of his internal struggle, his anger giving way to a raw vulnerability. He took a hesitant step towards you, his voice trembling. “What do you want me to do?” he whispered, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “What can I do, to…to make you stay?”
The softness in his voice, the genuine plea for understanding, struck a deep chord. You could see the pain and desperation etched into his features, the realization of how precariously close he was to losing you. Yet, amidst the raw emotion, you felt overwhelmed and trapped.
“I don’t know,” you replied, your voice breaking as the tears began to fall freely. “I’m tired, Sukuna. I’m tired… of loving you and losing you all at once.”
His shoulders sagged as he absorbed your words, the weight of your exhaustion evident in his expression. The tears that prickled at his eyes now spilled over, reflecting the depth of his own despair. His gaze fell to the floor, unable to meet yours, the crushing reality of your relationship settling heavily between you.
The room was filled with a profound silence, broken only by the soft sounds of your sobs and his choked breaths. The love you shared, which had once been a source of exhilaration and passion, now felt like a relentless cycle of joy and pain that neither of you could escape.
Sukuna’s voice was barely audible as he spoke again, his tone carrying a sense of helplessness. “I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to make things right when everything feels so broken.”
You wiped at your tears, the exhaustion of the emotional turmoil leaving you feeling drained. “Neither do I.” you admitted softly. “I wish I had the answers. I wish I could find a way to make things work, but right now, it feels like we’re stuck in a never-ending loop of hurt and confusion.”
Sukuna’s silence was heavy with resignation, a poignant acknowledgment of the struggle that had become an inescapable part of your relationship. The love that had once been a source of strength and excitement now seemed overshadowed by a painful reality that neither of you knew how to navigate.
In that quiet moment, both of you were left grappling with the depth of your feelings, the complexity of your relationship, and the painful truth that sometimes love alone isn’t enough to overcome the barriers that keep you apart.
Sukuna's tears continued to fall, and he moved closer, his steps hesitant but deliberate. He reached out tentatively, his fingers brushing against your arm in a gesture that was both gentle and desperate.
“I never meant to make things so difficult,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I thought... I thought if I held on tight, if I tried harder, we could work through it. But now, I see how much I’ve pushed you away.”
You looked at him, your own tears blurring your vision. The sight of him, vulnerable and torn, added to the weight of your own sorrow. You wanted to reach out, to offer comfort, but the chasm between you felt insurmountable.
“I know you were trying,” you said, your voice cracking. “But the way you tried to control things... it pushed me away more than anything else. I felt like I was losing myself in trying to make things work.”
Sukuna’s hand tightened around your arm, his grip firm but not painful. “What do you need from me?” he asked, his voice desperate. “Tell me what I can do to make things right, to fix this.”
You shook your head, struggling to find the words to express the depth of your exhaustion and the confusion that clouded your mind. “I don’t know if there’s anything that can fix this right now. I just feel... lost.”
His expression softened, the realization dawning that perhaps the damage was too great to repair immediately. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry for everything. I never wanted to hurt you. I just didn’t know how to handle my own fears and insecurities.”
You nodded, the sadness overwhelming. “I know. And I’m sorry too. I’m sorry that we couldn’t find a way to make this work without hurting each other so much.”
The silence between you was heavy, filled with the echoes of what had been and what might never be again. The love that had once felt so alive now seemed like a distant memory, overshadowed by the pain and the sense of inevitability.
Sukuna’s hand slowly fell away from your arm, and he took a step back, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Maybe... maybe we both need some time apart to figure things out. To heal and find ourselves again.”
You looked at him, a mix of relief and sorrow washing over you. “Maybe you’re right. I need time to understand what I really want and to heal from all of this.”
Sukuna nodded, his face a mask of resignation and understanding. “I hope... I hope we can both find a way to be okay, even if it means being apart.”
With that, Sukuna turned and walked towards the door, each step heavy with the weight of what was ending. As he left, the silence of the room seemed to deepen. You sat down on the edge of the bed once more, your emotions a tangled mess of sadness and relief. The path ahead was uncertain, but in the quiet that followed, you felt more alone than ever before. But free. Freed from your own ruin.
▬ι══════════════ι▬
YOU COULDN’T DO IT ANYMORE IN THE END. In the end, you did break up with him. The cycle of arguments and reconciliation had become a never-ending loop, a house of cards that seemed destined to collapse no matter how carefully it was built. You loved him deeply, that was undeniable. But you also realized that rekindling the relationship would only lead to more pain, more hurt that neither of you could bear.
As you stood by the window, the first light of dawn was beginning to creep across the sky, painting the world in soft hues of pink and gold. The sight was starkly beautiful, a contrast to the turmoil that had been raging inside you. This was what life should be like, you think. You shouldn’t settle for less. You shouldn’t settle for hurt.
Outside, you could see him—still there, lingering near your door, his figure slumped against the wall. He had a cigarette against the burrow of his lips, smoke filling his face. The remnants of a wild night clung to him; he was drunk and high, his posture wavering as he waited for you. The sight of him, lost and desperate, broke your heart in a way that felt both familiar and foreign.
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your decision settle heavily upon you. You knew that as much as you loved him, returning to him now would only mean opening the door to a love that had become toxic, a love that had already left you shattered too many times.
“I can’t go through this again.” you whispered to yourself, your voice barely audible. The realization was painful, but clear. The cycle of breaking up and making up had drained you emotionally, leaving you with scars that were too deep to ignore. “Not again.”
As the sun continued to rise, its light growing stronger, you turned away from the window, feeling a sense of finality. The decision to end things was not made lightly, and the pain of walking away was immense. But you knew it was necessary for your own well-being, for the chance to heal and find a path forward that wasn’t mired in the constant heartbreak that your relationship had become.
You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts as you reached for your phone. With a heavy heart, you composed a message, knowing it was the last thing you needed to say to him. Your fingers hovered over the screen, the weight of your decision pressing down on you as you typed:
"Sukuna, this is the last time I’m reaching out. I can see you waiting outside, and I need you to understand that this is over. I love you, but we’ve reached a point where continuing this relationship will only lead to more hurt. The cycle of breaking up and making up has left us both wounded, and I can’t keep going through it. I need to move on and find healing for myself. Please respect my decision and let this be the end. I wish you well, but I can’t be with you anymore. Goodbye."
You stared at the message for a moment, feeling a mix of sadness and relief. With a final press of the send button, you put your phone down and took a deep breath. It was done. The words were out there, and now it was time to let go and start the process of healing. You took a deep sigh and pursed your lips into a flat line.
As the first rays of sunlight began to illuminate the room, you felt a glimmer of hope amidst the sadness. The end of this chapter was painful, but it was also a step towards a future where you could rebuild, where you could heal. It was a chance to find peace and to rediscover yourself, away from the shadows of a love that had become more damaging than fulfilling.
With a final, lingering glance at the window, you steeled yourself for the difficult road ahead. The love you had for  Ryomen Sukuna was real, but the decision to move forward was the right one. As the sun rose higher in the sky, you began to prepare for a new day, one that would be marked by both the pain of goodbye and the promise of new beginnings. You hope the best for him, as much as you hoped the best for you. 
627 notes · View notes
hyuuukais · 4 months
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heyllo :3
can i request reader x chan? reader is overwhelmed but keeps it in because that’s what they see chan doing a lot of the time. but eventually it builds to a breaking point where the stress causes them to completely shut down. chan doesn’t know exactly what’s wrong so it might be cute if he just sits on the floor in front of reader and plays clips from a song he’s working on and asks for their opinion (by basically talking out loud to himself) and then after reader calms down they are able to verbalize they just need a human weighted blanket and to be told they are doing amazing and their efforts are not going unnoticed.
im fine. 🥲
just hold me, tell me you love me
pairing : chan x reader
notes : me vs the long title. anyway thank uuu for being my first request! i hope this lives up to ur expectations and can provide u some comfort 🫶 sending u hugs and love 🫂💙 sorry it's taken a bit long to get back to! kind of was getting this feeling myself and have been unable to write, but i think i'm getting back
warnings : reader is overwhelmed, mentions of anxiety, fear of opening up to someone, reader is called pet names (love, baby), reader breaks down
wc : 1.4k
All week there's been a growing pressure in your chest threatening to spill all over the floor and leave you a mess, lying on the ground with nothing else to give. Give, you've given all you can, and now that you're home, you can't do it anymore. You seek peace in the quiet of your shared bedroom, your boyfriend still at work in his studio.
Your boyfriend, who works hard day and night. Your boyfriend, who's loving and caring and sweet. Your boyfriend, who you're scared to open up to when things get really hard, because he doesn't share with you either. Although the relationship isn't fresh, going on a year and a half, there are still things you don't talk about. You don't want to burden him with your struggles when you've always been able to power through by yourself.
Fisting the sheets under you, you can feel the need to cry in your body, the hollow feeling in your chest and the tightness in your throat, but nothing comes. It's like your body knows you're too tired for even that simple of an action, for even one tear to slip. So instead, you sit the the blanket over you, face peeking out to stare at the wall with tired eyes. You can't sleep. If you close your eyes, you know you won't drift off and wake up feeling better, you'll just lie there for hours.
"Baby?"
Something spikes in you when you hear Chans voice ring out through the apartment, curling into yourself more. He shouldn't be home this early and yet, here he is, calling your name and wondering where you are; you're never in bed this early. Chan continues to call out for you until you hear the bedroom door opening quietly.
"Love?" Chans footsteps get closer, and you can feel the edge of the bed dip with his weight as he sits down. "My love..."
His hand brushes over your shoulder, but you can't face him. When you bring the blanket over your head more, he seems to get the hint, shifting to lean against the headboard next to the statue that is your body, unmoving and heavy. You can feel him fiddling beside you, and soon, a soft melody fills your ears. It's enough to distract you temporarily from the raging storm in your head, focusing on the beats, and when Chans voice comes through, it's like you can feel a sense of comfort washing over you. Although it's not enough to completely take these feelings away, you're grateful for what he's doing.
"This song has been giving me trouble," Chan comments over the music, sighing heavily. "I can't figure out if I like the chorus or not, and it feels like it's missing something in general, but I don't know what. What do you think, baby?"
Unable to answer verbally, but still wanting him to know you're listening, you roll around so you're facing him. He chuckles as you bury your face under his thigh when you see he's sitting cross-legged, the pressure on your face oddly comforting. Chan places a hand on your back, his arm resting behind your head as he rubs small circles over your thick layer of blanket. Another song starts playing after a while, another soft one, too. You relax under his touch, feeling the vibrations through his body as he hums along to this one and makes occasional comments about changes he'd like to make.
Exhaustion hits you like a ton of bricks, your eyes fluttering shut as he keep playing different songs and telling you all about them. Both of you are aware that he shouldn't be playing so much unreleased music, but all Chan cares about in this moment is you, helping you, calming you, loving you. The company will never know anyway.
"Chan," You whisper, voice barely audible. His humming stops and he pauses the music, looking down at your limp form with furrowed brows. Moving your head slightly, you're able to look up at him on an angle, the cool air of the bedroom breaching your blanket cocoon.
"What is it, baby?" Chan moves some hair from your face, leaving this palm to rest on your cheek.
"Can you just-" You clear your throat, one hand coming up to play with the hem of his shorts at his knee to calm you more. "Just hold me, tell me you love me?"
Without words, he shifts down to your level and nods. Carefully, Chan guides you to face away from him and brings you close to his body, your back pressed tightly against his chest. His chin rests on your shoulder, now enveloped inside your blanket as he holds onto you tightly, scared that if he let's go, you'll fade away. The thought of you being in so much pain, whether physical or emotional, is something he can't bear; he can't sit on the sidelines and watch you wither away. Neither of you speak as you lie there for what feels like hours, although it must only be a few minutes. The feeling of Chan's breath on your neck is oddly comforting, your own hands finding his arm around your waist and holding onto him.
Something about the way Chan is holding you, comforting you without the pressure of being asked what's wrong, has you finally breaking down. It starts small, holding back a few tears, but a few escaping despite your efforts. Then Chan shifts closer, pressing soft lips on the skin behind your ear.
"I love you, you know that? So, so much," He whispers, inhaling the scent of your shampoo as he buries his face into your hair. "You're doing amazing, baby, and I mean that. I thought... I thought something might have been wrong, but I didn't know how to go about this. I'm sorry it got to this point, I should have asked. I want you to know you can always turn to me, okay?"
His words have the dam breaking and soon enough, the sobs ripping from your chest have you gasping and hiccupping like there's no tomorrow. You don't register the way Chan tries to soothe you as he pulls you around and into his chest. Subconsciously, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and roll his body onto yours, his head sitting in the crook of your neck. The weight feels nice, grounding, and you can finally hear Chan speaking again.
"Shhh, it's okay, you're okay." Chan whispers into the skin of your neck, one of his hands smoothing back your hair. "You're okay, I'm here, now breathe, alright? Breathe, baby."
He inhales deeply, and you do your best to mimic his movements. It's shaky, but you're doing it.
"Good job, you're doing great," Chan keeps his voice low as he speaks. "Keep breathing."
It gets to the point where you don't need to think about breathing anymore, your head throbbing slightly from the sudden outburst of emotion. Chan's body stays on yours, but he props himself up enough to look at you, his palm on your cheek and his thumb wiping away any remaining tears. You can barely look him in the eye.
All he does is stare at you with those pretty, dark eyes, but you realize there's a dampness under them matching yours. You open your mouth to question it, but he shakes his head, a soft smile on his face.
"I don't want you to be in pain alone ever again." His thumb continues to caress your cheek, even though the tears have dried. "I love you too much to let you go through that. Whatever's going on, tell me when you're ready, yeah? For now, just let me gush about my beautiful partner until they're feeling better."
You can't help the small laugh that escapes you as Chan surges up to pepper your face in kisses, saying praises in between each one. With every kiss, you can feel your face heating up until you try and cover it, but he just grabs your wrists and pulls your hands away. Eventually, he slows down, pressing one last kiss directly on your lips, and settles back onto you.
"Let's stay like this for a while," Chan suggests, knowing you need it, but so does he. "My favourite place is in your arms."
-
─── taglist : @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom
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tsireyasluvr · 9 months
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Beautiful girl
lo’ak x fem!human reader
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Authors note: this fic was inspired by this post. can u tell this boy has been on my mind 24/7? anyway, i hope u guys enjoy this, especially for my insecure girls🫶
Summary: reader has insecurities about her looks and body, struggling to put them at ease. lo’ak finds a way to make her think otherwise
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, aged up!lo’ak, smut, mild angst, body dysmorphia, mentions of anxiety, comfort, soft dom lo’ak, praises, slow sex, oral (fem receiving), marking, dry humping, whining, moaning, p in v, i think that’s all? lmk if i missed anything!
“what are you doing?” lo’aks voice unexpectedly came through, startling you.
shit.
you were looking in the mirror, half naked in your dorm at the lab since you were in the middle of changing after just getting out of bed. you were wearing a slightly baggy sleep shirt, your panties and socks, having a harder time facing the reflection today. you felt your breath hitch in your throat a little when you realized he was seeing you fresh out of bed with no makeup on, trying to not make a big deal out of it but your insecurities were eating you alive.
“oh- um, nothing, i was just about to get ready for the day” you say softly, though lo’ak knew you well enough to know when somethings off. still, he chose to not say anything, instead coming up behind you while you still stared in the mirror. his four fingered hands came to grab at your waist, digging his nails in slightly into the flesh.
“mm i feel like you can just stop here” he murmured, leaning down his head to press kisses against the side of your face, trailing down from your ear to your neck.
“you look so fucking pretty”
he trails a hand up under your shirt, easily pulling the fabric up on his wrist as he goes, groping at your breasts. “so soft and sweet, mama” he continued pressing hot open mouthed kisses against your shoulder, grazing his fangs along your skin making you whimper slightly
“lo’ak” you breath out, turning your head away from the reflection, blushing in slight embarrassment. the sight made him frown, looking down at you as he reached a finger to tilt your chin up towards him. “what is it, baby? what’s going on, hm?”
but you didn’t feel like answering. instead, you looked up at him with your big doe eyes, standing on your tip toes to press a gentle kiss to his lips. your palms rested on his chest to steady yourself, feeling him softly kiss you back before pulling away again, brows furrowed in mild concern. after a beat, you opened your mouth to say something, before he gripped your jaw and pulled you into him again, kissing you hotly.
he licked at your lips, hardly asking for permission before shoving his tongue in your mouth, his teeth clashing with your own as he began walking you backwards. you struggled to keep balance, still on your tip toes as he tilted your head back more, licking into your mouth like he’s never tasted you before.
you almost tripped when the back of your knees met the foot of your bed, his hands instantly coming to grab at your waist and throw you on the bed. you let out a yelp, not expecting that as he quickly crawls over you. he looks at your beautiful body, unable to pull his gaze from every inch, groaning at the sight of your curvy form beneath him.
he reached for your shirt, tugging it up a little “you won’t mind if i get rid of this, right pretty girl? just want a better look at you” he breathed out, his tone sounding desperate as he waited for you to nod before roughly tugging it off. you blushed instantly. sex wasn’t new, no, but it has been taking you a while to feel fully comfortable naked beneath him.
“fucking beautiful” he growled, his mouth taking your nipple into his warm mouth, his hand groping at your other breast, making sure both were getting attention. he couldn’t help but dry hump you, grinding his clothed cock against your panties, making you moan close to his ear.
he began sucking marks onto your breasts, covering your chest in his saliva and gently grazing your nipples with his teeth. his free hand reaching for your thigh, grabbing at it and pulling it up to his waist, wedging himself closer to your core. he couldn’t stop groping at you, obsessed with the way your pillowy flesh felt so soft beneath his fingertips.
“lolo” you breathed out, watching him pull back from your chest with a look of pride in his eyes as he admires the bruises he sucked into your skin. he smirked at you, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek “m gonna fuck you so hard, mama. gonna ruin this tiny body of yours” he distracted you, his hands trailing down to pull off your panties.
once they were off, he quickly lowered his head to your pussy, pressing a wet kiss right above your mound. he barely gives you another look before licking a stripe up your cunt, moaning loudly at the taste as he holds down your thighs and sucks at your clit. “oh fuck! lo’ak, lo‘ak..!” you cry out his name, tiny hands instantly reaching down to tangle in his braided hair.
he smirked against your cunt, fucking his huge warm, wet tongue into your pretty pussy, all the while digging his nails into your thighs, obsessed with leaving marks along your skin. taking something so soft and treating it roughly, he just couldn’t help himself.
“you taste so good, baby, fuck. you’re so perfect, you know that? so sweet, can’t fuckin’ get enough of you” your legs quivered beneath his hands, making him ease up just slightly, not wanting to overwhelm you just yet.
instantly you wrapped your legs around his shoulders, your thighs engulfing his head, making him groan into your pussy. his eyes met yours, his pupils completely dilated at he licked relentlessly at your cunt, not missing a single drop of your slick like he was a starved man. his nose pressed against your clit as he shakes his head between your legs, wanting you to feel him everywhere.
you whimpered and whined, your chest heaving as you looked into his eyes, your teary hazy ones meeting his predatory look. “lo’ak, ‘m gonna.. mm..!”
“that’s it, pretty girl. c’mon” he cooed, grinning as he gave your clit one last harsh suck, making you completely unravel beneath him. he turned his head to the side, licking and biting at your thighs, continuing to keep his gaze on you as he leaves more marks in his wake.
he then crawls back up to you, making quick work of untying his loincloth before running the tip of his dick through your wet folds, hissing at the contact. “fuck, you did so good. always so good for me, just for me” he murmured in your ear, hiking your leg up again, your knee hooked over his forearm. you looked up at him with a fucked out expression, your hair already a mess and your cheeks covered in a blush.
he melted a little at the sight, coming down to press a gentle kiss to your lips while simultaneously pressing his cock into you, nice and slow so you felt every ridge against your walls. he swallowed your moans, reaching an arm to rest by your head, caging you in.
you pulled back, turning your face to the side so you could breathe. he peppered kisses along your face, pressing his nose against your cheek, scenting you as he dragged it down your neck. his hips sped up, thrusting into you harder now as you gasped “ngh! lo, please-“
“who’s my beautiful girl, hm?” he spoke against your neck, fisting at the sheets beside your head as he thrust his hips against you, slow and hard, hitting that sweet spot inside you with every push. you whimper, too focused on how good it feels to respond, making him still inside you.
“lo’ak!” you whined, turning your head back to meet his gaze, watching as he pulls back to look at you with a serious expression. “say it, mama. come on”
you swallowed thickly, looking at him with a pout that he thumbs away. you huff out a breath, reaching your hands up to play with his braids, feeling a little embarrassed. “..i am- oh!”
he rewarded you with a hard thrust, instantly making your hands drop as he began the same speed and movement from before. “you’re what?” he says, reaching up to grip your chin again as he forces you to look at him, fucking into you a quicker rate.
“your beautiful girl!” you cry out, your walls tightening around him, legs coming up to lock behind his waist as you cling to him, your cheeks squished by his hand.
he lets out a satisfied hum, enjoying your mewls and pretty noises, looking at you almost sweetly. a perfect contrast to his actions.
“good girl. say it again for me, yeah?” he murmured, letting go of your face to instead grope at your breasts again, still leaning over you as he stares at your teary eyes. “what are you, baby?”
you feel yourself getting close, his length reaching every perfect spot inside of you, feeling impossibly full with your belly bulging from the sheer size of him. “i-i’m- ah! a beautiful girl, ‘m a beautiful girl”
he grinned down at you, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “that’s right, mama. my beautiful girl. now be even prettier and cum for me” he was taking his time with you, but now he was ready to watch you come undone beneath him, reaching a hand to play with your clit harshly.
your jaw dropped in a silent moan, gasping as your eyes squeezed shut and you came all over his dick, making him groan in your ear before filling you up with his own release. he fucked you through your orgasm, hips slowly moving against yours as he leaned in to kiss you again.
once he slowed down, he reached a hand to cup your cheek, reluctant to pull out as he laid his head on the pillow beside yours. you reached to interlace your fingers with his, his hand practically engulfing yours as always. “i really do think you’re the most beautiful girl on the planet, y/n. both on mine and yours.” he specified.
you looked at him with a dazed expression, a loopy smile on your face as you nod along.
“what?” he asked with a slight laugh, grinning at your expression.
“nothing.”
“what are you smiling about!” he demanded, tugging on your hand.
“nothing! just-“ you giggled a little, biting your bottom lip before speaking “you’ve never like, been so slow with it before, usually you’re all up in there with like no patience- “
“okay!” he rolled his eyes, clamping his hand over your mouth as you laughed against his palm.
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vicsnook · 2 months
Text
Out of Oklahoma | Tyler Owens x Reader
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word count: 3326
warnings: Tornadoes, Loss, Implied smut
notes: Hey y’all 🤠 I am back with some more content! When I tell y’all I was sat at that theater. Even my boyfriend was thirsting over Glen (specifically in the rain scene, iykyk). Anyways, hope y’all enjoy this one and please don’t forget to like and reblog 🫶🏼.
I crawl out of the hotel bed at 5, hitting the snooze button on the way to the bathroom. My reflection looks back at me less than thrilled for what’s to come today.
Apparently the world hates me because there is no coffee to brew when I check the kitchenette, so now my day’s gone from bad to worse. I check my phone and sure enough I have a million messages from my dumba-sweet brother Boone about how he can’t wait for me to meet his friends.
I'm not ready for that. But nevertheless I carry on and make my way to the airport to board a flight to take me home, to Oklahoma. It’s fine, I think to myself. It’s all going to be okay. But I know it’s a lie. Still I get on the plane and pretend I’m going somewhere tropical instead of the one place I swore I wouldn’t return to.
The wheels touch down roughly on the strip, startling me awake. Here goes nothing. The airport is packed but thankfully all I have is my carry on which holds what little I left to California with six months ago. So much for making a life for myself.
The old Ram is parked just outside the doors and I know I can’t put this off any longer. After what happened last year, I want to turn around and get the hell out of dodge but I can’t avoid him forever. Not when my family needs me, well what’s left of it. “Well, well, well, look at what the cat drug in.”
I sigh and look up, locking eyes with the one person I didn’t want to see ever again. Tyler Owens. My ex-fiancée.
“Tyler. Nice to see you didn’t get blown away by a Tornado,” I force out with the fakest smile I can muster. God knows I’d love to wipe that stupid smirk off his face, amongst other things, I shake my head dismissing the stupid thought.
“Y/N, good to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor. That all your luggage?” he asks, grabbing my carry on from me and placing it in the bed of the truck before I can even answer. “Yep,” I mumble, getting into the truck.
“So, where’s Boone?” I ask, trying to ease the tension.
Tyler glances over at me and I feel my stomach do a stupid flip. Stop it!
“He’s at your Nana’s house dealing with some of the insurance people. I’m really sorry about what happened, Y/N.” he says. “We tried to warn them.”
“I know,” I say. “It’s not your fault, Tyler. You didn’t know it would turn and hit them directly.” I start to reach for his arm to comfort him but pull it back, the gesture feeling inappropriate after all that happened between us.
He nods and continues to drive on. Him and Boone blame themselves but I know there’s nothing they could’ve done. I just wish they’d see it that way.
-
The ruins of the home we grew up in come into view and my heart shatters all over again. The anger bubbling in my stomach as I see all the tornado took from us. Why!? Why us!? I want to scream at the sky as I walk up to my brother who I can tell is barely holding it together.
“Hey Boonie,” I whisper, hugging his back. His breathing shakes as he turns and pulls me into a hug, nearly suffocating me. “I tried sissy, I really did but they’re gone.” he says, “I was too late.”
I hold him as he finally breaks down and I try whispering reassurances in his ear but I know he’s not listening. My eyes make contact with Tyler’s as he heads towards the rubble and begins to sort things out.
“It’s not your fault, Boonie.” I say, holding his face so he looks at me. “There’s nothing you could’ve done.”
He nods quietly, pulling me in for another hug as the guilt consumes me for having left him behind. I should’ve never gone to California.
-
I follow Tyler to the entrance of the dingy motel on the edge of town, still holding on to Boone’s hand. “Thank you for coming, Y/N.” Boone says, handing me the key to my room. “Always,” I respond. Squeezing his hand one last time as he turns to go to his room.
“Where’s the rest of your crew? I haven’t seen them.” I ask Tyler as we head up the stairs since our rooms are on the second floor. “They’re helping some people downtown that got hit too. They asked me to give you their condolences.” He answers, stopping in front of my door.
“Um, thanks and thank you for all you’ve been doing for Boone. I hate that I couldn’t get here sooner.” I say. “California wasn’t all I thought it’d be.”
“Tried to tell ya.”
“I know. I'm sorry, Tyler.”
He moves a step forward and drops his mouth beside my ear, the distance between us almost non-existent. “Nothing to be sorry about, darling.” He drawls, pulling back, then turning around and walking into his room, leaving me in the hallway.
This man will be the death of me.
-
The weeks go by slowly as we deal with the insurance but somewhere along the way we finally get Nana’s ashes back. Boone and I take them out to the river, spreading them at the one place she loved most.
“So how are things between Kate and Tyler?” I ask Boone as we head back to the motel from the pizza parlor.
My stomach clenches, waiting for his answer.
He looks at me and grins. “Why you want to know Sissy? Any interest in getting back in that saddle?”
“Ew! No! I was just curious, Boone.” I say, glaring at him while he laughs.
“They never really were anything serious. She ran off to New York City the second she got her research. Oklahoma held too many painful memories for her or something.”
I nod. Pulling into the motel parking lot that we now call home. That is until the money from the insurance comes through and we can get to rebuilding Nana’s place.
“There’s the man of the hour.” Says Boone pointing at Tyler who’s getting out of his truck. The white shirt clinging to his chiseled chest because of the rain.
He really does look good in a cowboy hat. I think, quickly shaking my head trying to erase the thought. “Close your mouth Sissy, you’re gonna get drool all over yourself.” Boone teases and I playfully smack him, tearing my eyes off Tyler.
“You know Sissy, I don’t get it.”
“Get what?” I ask, turning off the ignition.
“How y’all girls run away from that man. I mean I ain’t blind and I may be biased because he’s my best friend but his personality doesn’t suck either.” I sigh, knowing he’s not wrong.
“It’s complicated.” I finally say, and get out of the car. Heading for my room before Boone can add anything else.
-
“Where are we going?” I ask again for the millionth time. Letting Tyler and Boone blindfold me was starting to seem like a mistake the longer we were in the truck.
It also didn’t help that Tyler was playing the cd I burned for him back in high school.
“Almost there, Sissy.” Boone assures me, as the truck left the paved road and headed down a dirt road. Please Lord don’t let this be another one of Boone’s pranks.
Tyler helps me out the truck and leads me down a rocky path. My nerves increasing by the second and wondering where my brother had ran off to.
“Tada!” yells Boone, the bandana falling off my eyes as Tyler pulls off the knot.
“I know it ain't much Sissy but I couldn’t let you keep living in that Motel much longer.” Boone says, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the tiny home that now sits behind where Nana’s new house will be. “So, you hate it?”
“No! Thank you so much!” I yell, pulling him into a hug. “You really didn’t have to do this Boonie.” Tears stream down my face as my brother squeezes me. Thank you God for such a good brother.
“I can’t take all the credit, it was Tyler’s idea after all.” Boone whispers to me. I nod, pulling away and wiping the tears off my cheeks.
Lord knows if things were different I’d be running to Tyler and giving him a big ol’ kiss right now. But they aren’t. I remind myself so I settled for just saying “Thank you, Ty.”
“Not a problem.” He says, turning to follow my brother to my now little home.
-
“Please work, come on!” I yell at the shower. My little home was nothing but perfect, well except for the water which always seemed to go out at the most inconvenient times.
I try calling Boone but I’m greeted by his voicemail which only leaves one other person to call. Sighing I pull up his contact and dial. Ignoring the contact picture that I never bothered to change.
“Hello?”
“Hey, um sorry to bother but I can’t reach Boone and my water went out again while I was washing my hair,” I say, already regretting calling him.
“I’ll be there in a minute.” He replies, hanging up before I can say anything else. I pull on a bathrobe and tidy up before he gets here. I wince when I see my hair in the mirror, suds still in it but oh well. Tyler’s seen me how the lord made me so I doubt a little bit of suds will make me ugly.
I’m pulled out of my thoughts by his knocking and I think as I open the door that maybe I should’ve thrown some clothes on. “Hey,” I say, stepping aside as he makes his way to the water heater closet to check there first.
The minutes pass and the silence is eating me alive. The temptation to say that I was wrong for ending things the way I did consumes me. So much so that I don’t realize he’s talking to me until he comes to stand in front of me.
“Earth to Y/N? It’s fixed. You shouldn’t have any more issues.”
“Thanks Ty. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.” I reply, his eyes meeting mine.
“Live your life without fear of me dying everyday because of what I do,” he says, it's clear to me then that the wound is still very much open.
He starts to head for the door but I’m quick to get up and grab his arm, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Ty, I’m sorry. I was wrong, okay? All I did was trade tornadoes for earthquakes. Happiness for misery. I was wrong and I shouldn’t have left the way I did.” I say, my eyes searching for his.
“You left me, Y/N. You packed your bags and left without saying a word, leaving all of us behind. So, no, sorry doesn’t cut it here. I’m sorry about your Nana but you made your mistakes. Live with them.” He replies, the anger in his eyes sending chills down my spine. I swallow the lump in my throat long enough for him to walk out and slam the door on his way out. What the fuck did I do and how can I even fix it?
-
** 6 months later **
Nana’s house is finished. It looks similar to the one the tornado tore from the ground but me and Boone know it couldn’t be more different.
We bring in what we could salvage slowly and try to make it look as closely as possible to the original one. Lastly, placing a picture of Nana, Boone, and I, that Lily recovered from the wreckage on the mantel.
“Close enough,” Boone whispers, sitting on the couches that Dani and Dexter got us.
“Yeah, I just wish she was still here.” I reply, sitting across from him. “You going chasing again today?”
“Yeah, but I promise we’re being safe sissy. We don’t do that driving into tornadoes and shooting off fireworks anymore after Nana,” He answers, sadness filling his features.
“Just be safe,” I mutter, taking a seat next to him and letting him pull me into a hug. “Always.”
“For what it’s worth, he’s not really mad at you. He’s mad at himself for not realizing sooner how far gone you were until it was too late.”
A sigh escapes me as he gets up, giving me a faint smile before walking out the door. Off to chase the very thing that took the last bit of family we had.
-
The rain came in buckets. All day it’d been so pretty but as soon as I stepped outside the grocery store, I saw how much the sky had changed. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as lightning struck.
Rushing to my car, I threw the groceries in the back seat but before I could throw the car in reverse I heard it.
The tornado sirens.
I threw open the car door and started sprinting back into the grocery store but a cry for help stopped me before I could make it in. Lord please protect them. I prayed quickly.
Debris was already flying all around me when I turned to look for the source of the pleas and then I spotted her. A girl who looked no more than 15 was on the ground in the parking lot, her leg in a cast and her crutches nowhere to be seen. “Please help me!”
I ran towards her. My body going into overdrive as the wind threatened to push me over too. “Please don’t let me die,” she begged as I threw her arm around me and hurried back for the door.
The wind picked up even more and the rain turned into hail as I trekked through the lot trying to make it back inside. The short distance seemed infinite.
I felt it before I could even turn. It was there. The loud roar filled my ears as I pulled the girl in front of me and with the last of my strength I had, I pushed her to where the door was.
Then my feet left the ground as the tornado sucked me in and I felt the world go black.
-
“Bo-one?” I rasp, my throat on fire and my entire body feeling like it’d been run over. The events leading up to this moment slowly coming back to me as I struggle to open my eyes.
“Hey, he’s just outside talking to the doctor, let me get him,” replies Tyler softly. My eyes adjust to the harsh hospital lights as he steps out the door and taps Boone on the shoulder.
My head pounds as I take in my surroundings. Scratches cover up both my arms. If I looked into a mirror right now I’d probably collapse.
“Sissy! Thank God you’re okay!” Hollers Boone as he comes to my bedside, careful not to hurt me when pulling me to him. “I thought I lost you.”
His tears wetting my hospital gown as I hug him back as best I could. “I’m okay, Boonie.” I whisper in his ear as he sobs.
“Is the girl okay?” I ask, worry filling me up at the thought that she didn’t make it.
“Yes, she made it inside just in time, Sissy. You saved her life.” Boone says, taking my head in his hands and pressing our foreheads together like we did when we were kids.
I close my eyes, nodding and thanking God that we were all okay.
“I need to go sign some paperwork but if you’re feeling up to it, we can take you home today. You got lucky,” Boone tells me while getting up from my hospital bed.
“I’d love nothing more than my bed.” I reply, shooting him a smile as he steps out.
I turn to Tyler who’s been quietly standing in the corner this whole time and I notice his swollen eyes. My heart squeezing at the thought of having worried him and Boone.
“Hey,” I mutter, and his eyes finally meet mine.
“Guess Boone isn’t the only tornado chaser in the family huh,” he jokes, still standing in the corner.
“Guess not,” I reply, chuckling but my throat is so dry that it turns into a cough and he’s rushing to my bedside with a glass of water in hand.
“Thank you,” I manage to say as I chug the water. Instant relief filling my throat. “So, can you fill me in on what happened after I got sucked into the tornado?”
“Uh, well witness accounts are that you pushed the girl inside and then got sucked in. Me and Boone had been chasing the tornado and pulled into the lot as it dissipated.” He stops, taking a seat on the bed and grabbing my hand. “The people in the supermarket started pouring out and screaming that you got sucked in, of course at the time we didn’t know it’d been you. Nevertheless we all started searching and found you passed out on top of a tarp in the baseball field.”
“Oh wow, that’s quite the distance. Saved myself some gas for sure,” I joke, but he doesn’t laugh. “Y/N, you could’ve died. You got out with scratches and a story but you could’ve died,” he says, a somber look on his face.
“Hey, I’m okay. I didn’t die. Nana protected me,” I tell him, tipping his face so his eyes meet mine. “I got a second chance to start over and,” but he cuts me off.
“I love you,” he says, then his lips crash into mine. The kiss knocks the air out of my lungs but as he pulls away, I recover and pull him back to my lips.
When he finally draws back, his eyes are teary but there is no sadness in them anymore. “I’m sorry for walking out on you, if you had died, I don’t know how I could live with myself, knowing how I left things,” he says, his words piercing my heart.
“Hey,” I say softly, “I’m here and I’m okay. I know there’s a lot we need to talk about but I can promise you this, I’m not leaving Oklahoma. Ever.”
“Promise?”
“Promise,” I whisper, leaning in to meet his lips.
But before we can finish our moment with a kiss Boone is bursting through the door.
-
** One month later **
“Ty! Dinner’s ready!” I holler, and I hear the sound of the shower turning off. Making my way to the living room I stop and pick up my Nana’s picture, thank you for saving me. I think to myself and put it back down.
“Ty! Come on!” I yell, quietly sneaking up the stairs to our room. Glad that Boone’s off with Lily at the fair.
“Coming!” I hear him yell from the bathroom. The towel is wrapped around his waist and drops of water make their way down his abs. Man, I’d sure love to be that towel. I think to myself as I watch from the door crack but am greeted with a smirk when I make my way up to his face.
“Hey darlin’, coming to see the view?” he asks cheekily, turning to me. Busted.
“Well you’re the one who says “if you feel it, chase it,” and I sure am feeling a lot of things right now,” I reply, letting my eyes trail down his chest.
“Oh, yeah?” he replies, coming closer. “Well you better start running.”
I giggle and turn to run but don’t even make it out the room before he’s tackling me to the bed. Dinner is gonna be real cold when we’re done here.
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lymtw · 2 months
Note
hello hello! i don’t know if you’re comfortable with writing this, but if so are you open to writing a toji x reader fic involving period sex? thank you!!! and p.s. i love your writing 😫❤️
A/N: Thank you for reading my works ☺️🫶🏼 I am totally comfortable writing this! I should really put up a post with my do's and don't's. I'll get to that as soon as I find the motivation 😃👍 Anyways, thank you for sending in this request 💙
| cw: period sex |
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You don't like making a scene out of that time of the month when it comes to spending time with Toji. You don't like mentioning it to him, so whenever he wants to start removing clothes with you during that time, you always make up some excuse. You say you're not in the mood or that you're too tired or that you can help him out, but that's all, and thank god he never pushes it. He would rather take what you offer him or suck it up and bear the horniness in silence, than make you uncomfortable.
Toji knows the basics of basics of menstruation. He knows that you bleed out of your vagina for a few days, and that often times, it's an uncomfortable and painful time for your body. He knows that the fluctuations of your hormones brings on mood swings, and that you have to buy certain products to prevent you from getting blood everywhere.
"Ma," he calls, as soon as he walks through the door of your apartment. He's holding a bag of food in each of his hands. Food that you were craving and requested for him to pick up once he finished his job. Your door was unlocked so he knows you're not out, but you didn't answer him. He put the food down on the dining room table and went on to look for you. He didn't have to look too hard, because you were in your bedroom, the first room he checked.
"Doll?" He calls, again. "I brought the food you asked for. Don't you wanna eat?" He watches you from the doorway. You look down, very much so, and he knows there's something wrong because you answered him with the smallest shake of your head. He hates seeing you all curled up and seemingly lifeless like this. Your body is drowned by one of his hoodies and you're wearing your baggiest sweatpants. Though it looks comfortable, it's way too hot for you to be so covered up. He makes his way over to your bed and sits beside you. "What's up, mama? Why aren't you hungry, anymore?" He gently squeezes your hip a couple times, hoping maybe it'll make you turn to face him, but you don't. You stay curled up.
"My stomach hurts," you say, unsure of whether he heard you or not. All you know is that if he asked you to repeat yourself, you wouldn't out of frustration. You would just shake your head and go back to hurting in silence.
"Did you eat something bad?" He pauses, a small smile curling onto his lips as something else comes to mind. "Baby... have you eaten anything at all, today?" He knows sometimes you forget to eat because you get so distracted by everything else you have going on, and that pit in your stomach often makes you nauseous.
"No, it's not that. I'm on my period." You internally cringe at the use of the word. Despite the power behind being able to put up with this every single month, you can't help but feel fragile and weak at the thought of letting Toji in on it.
"Oh, doll... You should've told me this before. I would've showed up with much fuller hands." He lays on his side, and wraps his body around yours. His leg goes over yours and his hand goes beneath your hoodie and presses against your stomach. "So, your guts are mad that I didn't put a baby in you?" He says, into your back.
"Yeah, a bit," you say, thinking of the stomach clutching cramps you've had for the past couple hours.
"Damn, that's terrible. What about you, huh? Are you mad that I didn't put a baby in you?" He asks, a smile on his lips forming through the unserious question.
You can't deny that, occasionally, you've wondered what your DNA would look like mixed with Toji's in the form of a child. You always envision the cutest little boy with Toji's intense, green eyes and your beautiful hair, and Toji's sharp nose, and your pretty skin tone. You think of how much you would love him, and how you would take on that role of being a devoted and loving mother. You think of how attached you would become to the little munchkin, enough to assume that you would be the one crying on his first day of school, not your child.
"Of course not. I'm not ready to be a mom," you respond, lowly.
Toji would be lying if he said he didn't see himself having kids with you. He often imagines how you would look holding a baby girl that shares a mixture of his and your features. Part of him hopes that your graceful beauty shines, prominently, through those tiny features, but he also knows that it wouldn't be the end of the world if the child ended up looking more like him. To see you holding a mini him would heal something that runs deep in his soul. Regardless of whether your child looks like him or you or it's the perfect blend of both of you, he knows that he'll be begging to cradle them again and again, even if they are the reason he'll be losing sleep. He'll lunge towards them when they stumble and fall, he'll soothe them when they can't sleep, and he'll bear with the messiness and the unstable emotions.
"Good, 'cause..." he sighs and coils even tighter around you. You're starting to feel hot with all those heavy layers on and the additional source of heat that clings to you from behind. "I need to keep you to myself for a much longer while. I can't imagine sharing you with someone else." He smiles when you laugh quietly at the small poke offered to your stomach. "At least, not right now, 'kay?"
"Yeah, okay," you respond, genuinely glad that he feels the way he does. You don't feel ready to take that enormous step either.
"I know that means your periods will keep coming every month, but I can help you in any way you ask me to. You just have to let me know, mama." His voice conveys sincerity and concern. He's serious about you, but he can't stand being shut out like this on things that pertain to your wellbeing.
You wiggle out of his hold and flip over to face him. You smile at him as best you can, despite the storm you feel in your stomach.
"You look small, doll." He chuckles at the way you bring a sleeved hand towards his face. The sleeves of his hoodie are enormous and puffy around your arms.
"Yeah... your sweater was the only thing that was helping, earlier. I felt like the cramps were gonna kill me so I curled up in this because it smells like you."
His smile is so soft. He loves hearing that he was your best source of comfort while you were in pain. "Well, i'm here, now, so you can take that off and curl up with the real thing."
"Mm..." you drop your hand to his chest. "This is keeping me warm and it fits huge on me, so i'm comfortable."
"Come on. I'm warmer and I fit so much bigger on you than this." He grabs the material of his sweater and extends it away from your waist, before letting it go and watching it melt back into a bulky pile on you. "Yeah, this is nothing compared to me, doll. When i'm on top of you, you completely disappear."
You sigh, as if he isn't tempting you at all, but you can already picture the warmth of his body heat and it sounds absolutely divine. "Fine, fine," you grumble, sitting up to pull off the enormous blanket you had been wearing for the past three hours and tossing it towards the end of your bed.
"So, that's why you didn't wanna take it off?" He's no better than the strangers who ogle your body when he takes you out for a date night. Your chest is holding his attention like a puppy with its favorite toy.
"Told you I was comfortable," you say, fixing the twisted strap of your bra before laying back down.
"Did you not want me to see you like this?" He asks, feeling the bare skin of your waist beneath his palm.
"I just feel really gross, Toji. I showered twice and I still feel like I stink, my skin isn't clear, and my body hurts. I never want you to see me this way, but I can't stay away from you every time I go through this."
He sees this as the perfect moment for him to become your heat radiating weighted blanket, and he seizes the opportunity, splaying over you like a net before contracting his limbs around you. He really is bigger than that hoodie with the way he makes your entire body vanish beneath his.
"This..." you laugh, the sound coming out a little choppy due to the newly added weight. "...is much better," you say, your voice a little strained.
"Listen," he says. What he wants to say to you is really important, and he needs you to absorb the information as clearly as possible, so he thinks it's best if his lips are right beneath your ear, just so you don't miss a word he says. "You smell reallyyy good, but you shouldn't be scrubbing your skin raw with too many showers. Also, I didn't even notice the little pimples on your skin 'til you pointed them out. Not that it matters to me, but your skin will clear up in a couple days." He grins at the little giggles that leave you and the slight shake of your shoulders that accompany the sound. "And about the pain... just tell me what you need and I'll get it for you. Anything but a heating pad, because I like whaling on you like this." He pulls away and takes note of the beaming smile on your face. "You heard all of that, right?" He asks, making sure you're not just letting his words go over your head.
"Mhm." You hum, in response. Your hands cup his jaw and pull him closer to you. You pause when he's mere centimeters away from you and just look up at him, adoration clear in your eyes. His gaze flits between your eyes and your lips. You've always been so enticing and appealing to him, regardless of the nonsensical remarks you make about yourself. Toji has every intention of proving that he'll love you the same all the time. This time of the month is no exception.
With a lick to his bottom lip, he takes the leap and kisses you first. You smile as his lips move slowly and gently in tandem with yours. You feel a lot better with Toji around. It feels like he actually melted away your cramps with his presence. You can enjoy him because the pain in your stomach isn't as intense anymore.
He can feel the change in pace of your affection. You're kissing him faster, your hands are balling up the back of his shirt, and your breathing is getting heavier. He decides to take it step further and slides his hands beneath the cups of your bra.
"Does that hurt?" He asks, knowing that it's possible that your breasts feel tender.
"Not at all. Please, keep going. You can even squeeze a little harder," you say, a small laugh following.
"Alright, baby. You wanna take your bra off so I can get in there real good?"
You're a little nervous about where this is headed. You can feel the neediness growing between your thighs, and him touching your breasts like that is only fueling the flame. You don't know if he's innocently trying to soothe the tenderness that vanished a day before the waterfall of blood began or if he's just trying to cop a feel. All you know is that it feels good and that it's a risky decision to take your bra off even if you've already decided to remove it.
"Yeah, I'll take it off," you say, using your elbows to assist you in sitting up. He sits back on his knees as you reach behind you, towards the clasps of your bra. You take a little longer when you notice how he's staring at your chest in anticipation, practically hypnotized as he waits for you to free your tits. You swear you saw his tongue peek out to lick his bottom lip. Those naturally bright eyes of his are dark, the color almost entirely swallowed whole by his enlarged pupils. You have to try not to laugh at how strong his focus is as the cups slide down your chest and the strap ride down your arm.
"Fuuuck, look at you." He's practically drooling as he reaches his hand out to touch. He instantly feels the warmth and softness of your right breast engulf his hand. "You've got a really pretty body, doll. You know I love taking care of it," he purrs, crawling back onto you. You're pushed back onto the bed. Your head falls into the pillows, and you're instantly surrounded by Toji. He leans down, his lips brushing over your jaw while his hands busy themselves with your breasts. "You can't scare me off with a little bit of blood, pretty girl. You can't scare me off at all," he murmurs, letting his lips roam towards your neck. He rolls your buds between his fingers, smirking at the way you shudder at the more intense stimulation. "That feel good?" He asks, hearing the low hums coming from you.
"Mhm... it does." Your cunt throbs with need as he continues tweaking your nipples, brushing them with his thumbs, rolling them with index fingers before pressing them a little. He sucking on that sensitive spot on your neck, really putting in the work to make you want him, badly. "T-Toji..." you whimper.
"Yeah, I know, sweet girl. Just wanna help you feel better." A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest at the feeling of you squeezing your thighs around his waist, chasing friction for your needy cunt. "Need some help with that? Want me to rub your little clit?"
You're too distracted by the pleasure you derive from grinding against his lower abdomen to notice his hand leaving one of your breasts and trailing down your stomach. Just as his fingers go beneath the waistband of your sweatpants, you snap out of your daze.
"No, wait- That's dirty," you say, scooting backwards.
"What are you talking about?" He asks, rhetorically. "It's a part of you. I don't care if any part of me gets covered in your blood."
You look away from him, flustered by his admission. You've never allowed him to touch you down there while you're on your period. This might have been the first time you've directly told him about it, too, so before then, he was just left to assume.
"I'm not a pea brained little boy, and you're not gross for this, baby. Just let me help you feel better."
You contemplate it for a few seconds. You've never done it like this before. The mess would be extreme. You'll be overthinking the things that run through his mind the entire time. Would you even be capable of getting into the mindset necessary to enjoy it when you're so worried about what Toji's thinking?
"Please, mama. Let me make you feel good." He runs a hand over your shin, hoping to soothe your nerves about this.
Your thoughts were starting to loop from how much you were overthinking it. A whole lot of 'what is Toji going to think?' and 'what if he can't go through with it after seeing all of it?' swirling around in your head. The thoughts were going nowhere but down, so you eventually just let yourself go. "Okay," you respond. "Can I just have a minute before we..." you raise your brows, allowing the gesture to finish your sentence.
"Yeah, of course. Take your time." He retracts his hand, allowing you to rise off the bed and make your way to the bathroom.
You're nervous. You don't know what would compel Toji to want to do something like this. You'll accept that it's for your benefit, but what does he gain from this apart from getting a blood covered dick? You know he won't put on a condom. He practically whines every time you tell him to either put a condom on or pull out. Neither of those options are viable for him, so he sweet talks you until you let him go in raw and cum inside you. He always thanks you for staying on birth control. His appreciation is genuine, too. It's not just some douchey speech where he says 'thank you for taking pills so I don't have to stress about cumming inside you'. It's a real, hug and kiss, 'I love you' deserving, appreciation.
You walk out of the bathroom after removing your menstrual product, wearing just the panties you had on and your darkest colored towel wrapped around your hips. That pair of underwear is not your prettiest pair, so you're fine with ruining them so that you don't ruin your carpet on your walk back to the bed.
"Everything alright?" Toji asks, eyes glued on you the second the bathroom door opened.
"Yeah. All good," you assure, sitting on the edge of the bed. You felt as anxious as you did the first time you and Toji had sex together. It was visible in the way you kept your eyes on your folded hands and how you toyed with your thumbs.
"Don't be nervous, baby. It's just like every other time." He smiles at you as you continue to stare at your lap. "You wanna put the towel down?"
"Oh, yeah." The second the towel is unwrapped from your lower body, you feel your anxiety double, knowing that the stain on your underwear is visible. He can see you crossing your legs to try and hide the stain. It's cute, but futile, since he'll see it much more clearly in a few seconds. You're unnecessarily straightening the corners, as if the towel isn't going to be moving around once things get going.
"Good. Now, lay down for me," Toji instructs, the words making your heart drop. "Need you to get all comfortable."
You hesitantly crawl onto the towel and lay on your stomach, concealing the stain on the front of your underwear.
"Flip over, doll. Wanna look at that pretty face." He can tell you're doing everything you can to hide what he expected and already saw. You flip onto your back and cross your legs. "Come on, pretty girl. Don't be embarrassed. It's just me."
You sigh and uncross your legs. Seconds go by and your cheeks are scorching, embarrassment coursing through you so fluidly, not knowing that the sight makes Toji feral. The color, the fact that you're free bleeding and the stain is growing as time goes by, the shame it brings you from not being able to stop it. It's all going straight to his dick. It was already straining in his boxers, but now it's throbbing.
"Good girl," he praises, running his hands up and down your thighs. You feel hot under his gaze. He's not making his attention to your stained underwear subtle at all. You just want to put a pillow over your head and let him do what he has planned.
"You're so cute," he says, reaching a hand towards the loud color between your thighs. He feels the warm wetness beneath his thumb as he tests the waters and rubs your clit through the scarlet tainted garment. He watches you squirm at the touch, your stomach rising and falling erratically at the stimulation. "So warm, baby." He can see the color adhering to the edges of his thumb as he continues to stroke your throbbing clit.
"Toji..." you gasp.
"Yeah, baby. I know."
The smallest pinch between your brows appears as the stimulation continues. It's slow enough to keep you comfortable, but you want more, so you attempt to trap his hand between your thighs so that you can get off on it.
"Open, doll. Keep your pretty legs open for me." He grins at the shuddered breath you release as you release his hand.
"P-Please, Toji. Please, more," you whimper, feeling yourself get closer and closer to your peak.
He's notices how the blood reached higher up the front of your underwear. Right over where he's rubbing your clit, the material is soggy beneath his fingers.
"I'm gonna make you cum all you want, but not like this," he says, abruptly stopping the movement of his fingers. He bows forward and kisses from your slightly heaving mid-center to your lower abdomen. The irony smell of your blood is heavier as he nears the elastic of your panties.
"Let's get these off," he murmurs, hooking his fingers into the garment. Your heart is racing all over again at the thought of him seeing the whole thing, uncensored. The uncontrollable drip of your blood, the messy aftermath of it being smeared and played with by his fingers over the thin barrier of your underwear. It's not presentable, compared to what he got from you every moment before this one. Far from it, but he proceeds with his fearless curiosity, dragging your panties down your hips and thighs, above your knees and swiftly down the rest of the way. He puts them down beside you on the towel before carrying on with you.
In no way would he ever try to embarrass you over something like this, especially since he knows you're more emotionally sensitive right now and even the smallest amount of teasing might hit a little harder than intended. He looks at the overload of red smeared all over your cunt, on the folds, lathered over and through your slit, and streaked over your inner thighs. All he can think about is how cursed you must feel every once in a while to have to go through this every month. He's not stupid enough to think alike to those men who say they would bear the pain a lot better than women and that it's nothing compared to being kicked in the balls. He would take the pain for you in a heartbeat, but since science hasn't progressed so far to make that option a reality, he'll do what he can to help you in other ways.
You watch, intently, as Toji observes what he's seen plenty of times before. You feel different from every one of those times, despite him telling you that this time will be no different. You feel like your heart is about to lurch from your chest because all he's doing is looking. You know it's unappealing. You would give yourself to him entirely clean in this moment if you could.
"I wanna bury my face in there so badly. You know that?" He's so hard at the sight. His dick is twitching at the thought of using his tongue to clean you up. "I'll make it up to you in a couple days," he says, working his constricting boxers off. "Gonna feast on you. Hold these pretty thighs back when you try to crush my skull."
You don't think you've ever felt so withheld by him. Here he is, about to fuck you during one of the few days you refrain from letting him touch you this way, while talking about how badly he wants to devour you. You wouldn't call it unfair of him to tease you with this promise, he just has no other choice. Normally, his mouth is the first thing he gives you when things are getting hot and heavy, but for now, he can only use that mouth to kiss you and verbalize his desire.
"Don't look so nervous, doll," he says, his voice honeyed and his touch gentle on your skin, like he's shooing away all those negative thoughts that threaten your ability to enjoy this. "This is me taking care of you."
Toji did a good job of making you forget that this wasn't just normal sex. You were fed assurance, visually, audibly, and tactically. The second he thrusted into you and felt your incredibly warm and wet walls cling around him, his gaze darted up to meet your eyes. He looked back down for a split second when his hips pulled back, just to see the way you coated his shaft.
He understands that this is intense for you, that you're presenting yourself in a vulnerable state to him, but he's determined to make you understand that he will always try for you. It comes down to him knowing your wants and needs, and when they aren't so transparent, he counts on you to trustfully tell him about the things he can't openly assume.
He's overly generous with your pleasure, going on and on for you, chasing your orgasms with no intention of stopping until you tell him you've had enough. "Come on..." he groans, a deep chuckle following when he sees the way your arms are thrown over your face. "Come on, doll. Give me some attention." He's saying this because he's about to cum, again. He wants to look at you as he spews another load into you. He wants to see the expression on your face when you feel his cum overfill you, again. You lift your arms above your head and expose the way your chest heaves even more to him, but more importantly, the weary and glassy eyes he loves so much.
"Yeah, fuck... Just give me those eyes for a while, gorgeous." He's panting and his hips are stuttering as he stares you down, his lust-filled gaze giving you the illusion of being pressed into the mattress. One hand splays over your waist while the other focuses on nudging at your clit.
The added stimulation makes you jolt beneath his touch. It's heavenly and you want more, and you're right there. "F-Fuck... Fuck, please... Please!" you beg, feeling like you're melting beneath his touch. Your nails dig into the pillow beneath your head in an attempt to stay still for him.
"I know, mama. I know. I got you," he coos through choppy breaths, rubbing your clit fast enough to have you squirming against him. He watches dazedly as fresh crimson decorates his fingertips, anew. The pace of his hips becomes sporadic with his own peak nearing. He's about to bust again with the way your gummy, lubricated walls snuggly wrap around him.
With just a couple more thrusts and the ongoing stimulation offered to your clit, you gush all over him again, a mixture of your cum and blood rushing out of you and onto him before dripping onto the towel beneath you. "Oh my- T-Toji, oh fuck!" Your back arches off the bed, your head thrown back into the pillow as you cry out in pure ecstasy.
Toji is pulling you into his quickened thrusts, putting your tired, pretty body to work so that he can finish, too. He's following after you just a minute later, a deep, growl-like groan leaving him as more of his thick cum is shot into your ruined cunt. His chest rises and falls, long, heavy breaths exhaled through his parted lips. his neck glistens with sweat and dampened strands of hair stick to his forehead.
"How are your guts?" He asks, his words still somewhat breathy as he works to recompose himself after pulling out of you.
"Good," you respond, echoing back that tiredness. "Out of place, but good. That... that did it. No more pain." You think that if you shut your eyes for longer than ten seconds, you'll doze off. As if Toji would let you wake up feeling dirtier than you did before you let him get his hands on you.
"Hey," he calls, tapping your outer thigh. You hum in disapproval of having to open your eyes again. "Doll, we have to get you cleaned up." He taps you again.
"Five minutes," you whine, shutting your eyes tightly before pulling the pillow out from beneath your head and throwing it over your face.
"None of the whining, mama. It's for the best and you know it." He doesn't go on because you don't respond, presumably dozed off. He pulls the pillow off your face and becomes the target of your pointed gaze when light floods your vision again. "I'm not gonna stop bugging you until you get up." He's fighting the urge to tease you about wanting a kiss for that alluring pout on your lips. "Don't you wanna take a nice and cool shower with me?"
"I'm stuck," you groan, exaggeratedly dropping your arm after your feigned weak attempt to move more than a couple inches. "Can't... move."
"Your level of drama outshines the best actors, doll. I see right through it."
You can't even hold back a giggle at that. You clutch your chest and continue on with the theatrics. "Ouch. My stomach doesn't hurt anymore, but there's suddenly a really sharp pain in my chest. So, this is what taken back love feels like, huh?"
Toji snickers at the sound of your pathetic words as he crosses the ends of the towel over your lower body. Once the towel is wrapped securely, his arm goes beneath your knees, and the other settles on your lower back. With one swift motion, he lifts you off the bed and starts for the bathroom. He knew you had no intention of moving on your own, so he took the initiative. "Now you're a poet? You would never make it through heartbreak poetry." He looks down at you with a sly grin. "You would be making it all up, because you know how much I love your dramatic self."
You laugh. "Yeah... i'll never be a heartbreak poet." You don't sound like you're at a loss at all. You said it with a smile on your face. You've never been more happy to have lost a path like that.
"That's too bad, isn't it?"
607 notes · View notes
luveline · 5 months
Note
Maybe colt comforting reader when things for her film aren’t going right 🫶🏽🫶🏽
Colt comes to your rescue (clumsily) when you have a hard day. fem!reader, 1k words
Very minor plot spoilers for The Fall Guy (2024) if any
“I think he’s mad at you.” 
You pause where you’d been scrubbing your eyes with your hands, though you don’t look at him. Colt Seavers seems to follow you everywhere you go, and consequently plays witness to your many breakdowns. “Thanks, Colt. That’s astute.” 
“Are you mad at me? Why are you mad at me? It’s been ten seconds,” he complains. He has a unique talent for sounding flirty and needy at once. 
“No, Colt. I’m tired, it’s been a long day.” 
Colt is grinning when you meet his eyes. He has blood, fake or real undetermined, drying in the scruff of his facial hair. You gesture to yourself in a slow circle in the approximate area, to which Colt smiles again. 
“You look perfect,” he says confidently. 
“You have blood in your beard.” 
“Oh, right.” 
You sigh heavily, taking the few paces back to a stack of safety mattresses for a quick break. You’ll get up and help whoever needs helping as soon as you can feel your toes. Colt stays where he is, squinting against the sun, strands of blonde ends kissing his tan forehead. The summer shoots are good for him, he always looks so beachy. You’re exhausted all the time. 
As he notices. “Are you getting enough sleep?” he asks. 
“Yeah.” 
“‘Cos I was sleeping badly and then I got this new mattress that has four hybrid layers, there’s a foam layer, and then there’s titanium springs,” —he sees your distant expression and his own flickers— “anyways, you could try it if you want. Test it out with me. Or– Not with me. With me if you want. We’d have fun. But not with me if you don’t want to.” 
You’d laugh if you had the energy. “Do you wanna sit down?” you ask. 
“God, yes, please.” 
He has another talent for being insanely handsome no matter the day. You look like you’ve been badly rewarmed before serving, where he looks like he rolled out of bed with a smile. He’s smiling at you now, the foolish kind that’ll fluster you if you let him do it for too long. “Stop,” you say quietly. 
“You’re doing amazing.” 
“Thank you. You’re the only person who thinks so, unfortunately.” 
You smile at him weakly. Worried you look pathetic, you turn your face to your lap and clasp your fingers together. 
“That’s not true. Mayview is old-fashioned, that’s all, he was around when they were still killing horses on TV.” 
You grimace. “Yikes.”
“But it’s the modern era. He doesn’t get to make you feel like shit, or I’ll make him feel like shit.” He pretends to charge a sucker punch. 
You lean forward a touch, not quite hugging your knees but tempted to fold in on yourself nonetheless, the heat of the sun a memory on your neck as the evening begins and cloud cover floods in. 
The safety mattresses beneath you squeak and shush against each other. Your weight and Colt’s slides together slowly. He might be pushing himself a little with his boot, but you pretend not to notice as his hand comes to rest between your shoulders. 
“I just can’t do anything right,” you mumble. 
As soon as you’ve said it you’re hoping he can’t hear you, but he does. He might have injured pretty much anything that can be fractured, sprained, or just plain broken, but he has stellar hearing. “You do everything right. You do!” he says, quietly and passionately at once, “They don’t realise it, but you’re the glue keeping this whole thing together.” 
“What are you?” you ask, bemused.
His hand is warm on your shoulder, unafraid where he hesitates to answer, “I don’t know. The test dummy? The guy who gets set on fire a lot?” 
“How is that?” 
“Warm,” he says, beaming, his face so unexpectedly close that you can see the glucose shining in the blood on his cheek. Fake blood. “You wanna try it? I’m sure I could convince the guys.” 
“No, I’m okay.” 
His voice turns silky. “Good, I wasn’t gonna let you anyway.” 
“Let me?” 
“You could get hurt.”
You give in, melted maybe by his warm tones, or exhausted by a day of playing mom for a director who can barely tell his left from his right. Your face presses to his shoulder and your spine sags under his hand, prompting Colt to pull you flush against his side. He always waits for your signals for stuff like this, no matter how desperate he might confess to being. “Can you make them all leave me alone?” you mumble into his jacket, the fabric rough against your nose. 
“Obviously I can, but… We could run away.” 
“Where would we go?” 
“I don’t know. Somewhere sunny. You can rub sunblock on my back, I can hold the umbrella over your head while you read.” 
“They have stands for that sort of stuff. Or you can shove it in the sand, you know.”
“I wanna do something nice for you,” he interrupts, the sound of a smile in his voice as he gives you a friendly jostle. “That’s the point.” 
“You’re plenty nice, Colt.” 
And he is. He saw you were upset and he came jogging upto you valiantly, and your side-armed cuddle is really pushing the pep back into your life. You take a few deep breaths under the weight of his arm before turning to him, brave, ready to go back to work if it means he’s gonna drive you home tonight. “Thank you for caring.” You kiss his cheek, careful of the fake blood. “You’re super nice.” 
You miss the heat of him the second you stand, but there really is work to do. 
“I’m super nice?” he calls. “How nice is super? Nice enough to get another one of those, or what? Are they by the metre?” 
You bite back a smile. 
“Hello? Can you hear me?” He must catch someone’s eye. “She can’t hear me. It’s cool. We like each other.” 
Nobody saves face quite like Colt. 
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