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#fast forward yourself please
catastrxblues · 1 year
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tomorrow is friday tomorrow is friday tomorrow is friday i just have to go through tonight and tomorrow morning and i’m free i just have to go through tonight and tomorrow morning and i’m free
(at least for the weekend lol 😭 then i still have two more days of exams 😔)
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crossbackpoke-check · 2 months
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about to be sooo nosy so. my apologies. but. morgan frost? girlfriend? do share (or don’t! again this is so nosy i’m sorry)
for legal purposes i can neither confirm nor deny anything about morgan and his girlfriend but afaik i think he’s single right now? at one point (within the past four years 😭) he did for sure have a girlfriend and that is the extent of my wag knowledge
#anon PLEASE i am the nosiest person in the world i understand i want to know everything. ever. however#because i have no evidence and don’t want to spread unfounded rumors i will state for the jury i am not a gossip blog#& anything i say should be taken with a grain of salt. or a vsco deep dive & also maybe a dig into the flyers media archives. wrt UNfounded#but i will gossip in your dms because it’s a vital method of communication and important for community building.#also i’m like 95% sure i just osmosed the fact that morgan and his girlfriend broke up sometime earlier in the hockey season from someone#else (probably flyerskay) and accepted it at face value like absolutely i’d trust kay with my life. she would never lie to me and therefore#i can’t be lying to you. i can’t remember morgan’s gf’s name tho but i can like. vividly remember her artsy possessive vsco photos 😭 help#that man posts more about tom petty than he does anyone else in his life besides joel so really how would we know if hes posted her less#the answer is we wouldn’t and i want to say her name is katie SO bad but i know that’s tyson’s gf it’s like. victoria or stacie or somethin#& i want to see if SHE deleted all her vsco pictures of him bc that’s how we’d know they broke up. frosty stop following so many girls#i want to try and find her and see (she’s a model and she was public and had her vsco linked so all of this is public info btw.)#ANON I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND YOU HAVE NO IDEA OANDJRIWNDHOWHDB IT IS 1:38 AM AND I HAVE JUST MANAGED. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD ANON HOLD ON#BUCKLE YOURSELF THE FUCK IN FOR AN ANSWER YOU DID NOT ASK FOR BECAUSE THIS IS A R I D E AND I NEED TO YELL ABOUT IT I CAN’T MY GOD I CANNOT#B R E A T H E i’m about to start crying again but the backstory is that. i have had a fic that i have been working on for literal years.#my version history says March 15 2021 and it started in my notes app about 3000 words before that and it’s based off of a tweet i thought#calla had quoted and just said ‘Joel’ about but in my notes i never#saved the actual tweet and many times throughout the years i have gone back and advanced searched every version of joel and joelle and bee#and behavior on calla’s blog that i could possibly think of and just assumed like. it must’ve gotten deleted or the account suspended and i#could never remember the wording well enough to just google it but believe me i tried and put in every variation. never found it in 4 years#i try periodically. fast forward to about twenty minutes ago i am looking through kay’s twitter and searching vsco because i SWEAR she has#the picture of frosty’s gf’s fingernail marks in the back of frosty’s shoulders i am talking about / I can’t find her vsco linked anywhere#but i’m like ok. search up a couple other things and think about who might have it and on a WHIM look up vsco in ash notthequiettype’s acct#no results okay whatever i think about what else could maybe pull it up for me so I have SOMETHING for you. I search frosty. I scroll. GUES#WHAT I FUCKING FIND FROM NOVEMBER 13TH 2020 it is THE FANTASTIC TWEET THAT SPAWNED 16K OF NOTES & FIC & A SPREADSHEET OF JOEL’S CLASSES#AND I NEVER WOULD’VE FOUND IT AGAIN IF NOT FOR THIS!!! LOSING IT!!! by it I mean my mind and my sleep schedule!!! it’s 2AM now good night!!#liv in the replies#morgan frost#philadephia flyers
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capriszn · 7 months
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almost every cdrama i‘ve watched could have been a 10/10 if it wasn’t for those last ten minutes packed with the entire finale like every single one without fail got that rushed ending…. why do they keep doing this to me stop
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saintobio · 6 months
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blank canvas. (2)
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after offering a painful ultimatum to finally be enough for him, things ultimately get worse as he decides between keeping you or losing you as the only resolution.
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pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader
genre. florist x tattoo artist au, mild angst, opposites attract
tags/warnings. strong language, defloration (kinda), explicit smut, undertones of manipulation and gaslighting, toxic relationship, undertones of cheating
notes. 11.2k wc! thanks for the love on bc1, i didn't expect it to gain traction at all but tyty. last part will come soon, but that will be the final chapter to this mini-series.
part 1 | part 3
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The ride back home was uncomfortable. 
It wasn’t because you had promised to give yourself to him that night, but rather because his uncharacteristic silence was not what you had expected after delivering your ultimatum. You already proposed a wonderful solution to his needs, so why was he acting like you were the one being ridiculous? This was why you hated it whenever Sukuna chose silence over open communication, as it left you a hard time guessing about what was running through his mind. His expression didn’t offer any clues either, because he did pretty well at concealing his emotions behind a facade of indifference.
When you said you would do it with him, you meant it. But what did he think of it? 
The sharp wind cut through your skin, the roar of his motorbike deafening your ears as your boyfriend accelerated his vehicle upon entering the tunnel. The vibrant yellow lights offered a cinematic view, tempting you to imagine yourself embracing the wind with open arms, though you knew better than to do so. Instead, you held onto him tightly, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning forward as he sped through the empty lane.
It was nearing midnight, and the sparse traffic allowed Sukuna to indulge in one of his habits: riding his bike in the late hours of the night through this particular tunnel and onto the highway. You knew this ritual helped him clear his mind since it offered a rush of danger that sharpened his focus on the road. His choice to take this route tonight also only confirmed to you that he was grappling with internal thoughts. The last time he rode this fast was when your parents made you choose between them and him, slapping it in his face that he was and would never be welcomed in your family. 
To be honest, it frightened you. The speed at which he was riding was dangerous for both of you. Moreover, his bike was a YZF-R1, although street-legal, it was still a high-performance sport bike more suited for the track. It required agile and precise handling with its 1000cc engine. Yet, no other vehicle seemed more fitting for Sukuna than this. 
Whatever was on his mind, he didn’t care to let you know. You two didn’t really speak throughout the ride while you clung to him like a backpack, praying in your head that you two wouldn’t get into an accident. Thankfully enough, he did safely take you home as you arrived at your shared apartment at exactly midnight. 
“Please don’t ride like that again,” you muttered as he helped you out of his motorbike. “You could’ve gotten us killed.” 
His fingers then reached to unclasp your helmet, pulling it up to reveal your face. “Well, we’re still alive.” 
You looked at his face despite his best effort to avoid yours, standing centimeters apart while he switched off the engine. He didn’t return your gaze as though he was drowned by guilt. Should you speak at this? Or should you let him do it first? 
“Baby.” After a minute or so, it was your boyfriend who sighed and finally gave in, pulling you close and resting his forehead against yours. He kept his eyes closed even when he was cupping your cheeks. “You don’t have to do this.” 
Yes, you certainly shouldn’t. You didn’t have to do things unwillingly, but that wouldn’t change the fact that this on-going issue was putting a strain on your relationship and this would be your last shot at trying to salvage it. And you couldn’t have him looking for sensual gratification from anyone else other than you, so what other option did you have, really? 
“I want to do it.” 
“Not if you’re forcing yourself like this.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Who said I’m forcing myself?”
“Your face tells me you are,” replied he, staring at your face in defeat. “So, let’s not—”
“What, and let this issue haunt us over and over?” You smiled bitterly, shaking your head adamantly. “This has to be done. I need to experience it so I’ll finally understand.”
Understand what? His face almost spelled out those words, but he chose not to say anything of the sort and instead leaned in to kiss your forehead. “Alright. I’ll make it memorable.” 
— —
Easier said than done, of course. You kept overthinking about whether your performance would be satisfactory to him given that you didn’t have enough experience to learn anything at all, aside from the make out sessions that you did once in a blue moon. Around thirty minutes of your time was spent hyperanalyzing your situation in the shower, while the other half of it was spent doing a little more than your nightly routines. Since Sukuna liked powdery scents, you placed a good effort in applying lavender-scented oil and perfume on every inch of your body. You also shaved any unwanted hair, especially on all the intimate places you knew he would be seeing. And by the time you were done, you stepped out of the bathroom blooming like a fresh flower, wrapped in nothing but a thin towel that hugged your womanly figure. 
It didn’t feel right at all. It didn’t feel good knowing that you were preparing yourself like that, when these things should only happen on the first night after your wedding. It didn’t feel great that you were going to lose your virginity to a man who had not even proposed to you. This wasn’t even your honeymoon, but you had to pretend like it was. 
Did Sukuna feel the same? 
He wasn’t lying in bed when you walked out of the bathroom. Instead, he had just returned from outside—shirtless, wearing his favorite gray sweatpants, and holding a box of condoms and a tube of lube in his hand. It was clear he had made a quick visit to the convenience store nearby and got the essentials for your first night.
Immediately, he eyed your towel-wrapped body with restrained lust, clearing his throat as he walked towards the nightstand. “You look nice.” 
Really? Did he really have to make this more awkward than it already was? 
“Thank you,” was all you could softly reply. It was funny how he pretended to be busy placing the box and tube above the bedside table instead of lunging at you like a desperate man. But because you wanted to get this over with, you were the one who approached him from behind, wrapping your arms around his waist, and touching the firmness of his abs. For someone who had zero experience, you were definitely trying hard enough and that should please him. “You have to help me out here, my love. Guide me.” 
When Sukuna turned around, your heart started racing. Of excitement? Maybe. Of anxiety? Perhaps. He made it better though when he finally caved in and looked straight into your eyes, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear before lifting your chin with his hand. “You smell extra nice, too,” he added, leaning close enough that you could feel his warm breath fanning your face. 
You were feeling it now. The equal lust. The carnal desire. The feeling of his sweet kisses, which he made true as soon as he crashed his lips onto yours. His kisses usually ranged from tender to rough, but this time, it was an altogether different type of kiss. It was passionate and demonstrative, as if showing you exactly what he had been wanting to do to you the first time you got together. This must be the result of being celibate in over a year. He was clearly a man deprived of sexual pleasure, and you were responsible for it. You actually turned him into a monk. 
Now, he wasn’t holding anything back anymore. With his hand on your nape, he deepened the kiss to the point where you could feel his tongue exploring your mouth. You followed whatever he was doing like a good girl, like a very good girl, as he completely devoured your mouth with his. It didn’t take long for him to advance his kisses in other places too, being your jawline his next target, and then your neck as he feathered kisses around the soft flesh, leaving marks that would need a few days to be concealed. 
Because his arms were tight around your waist, yours were locked around his neck. Where else should you be putting them? What does the girl usually do in this situation? You tried not to think much of it and listened to your own body while your boyfriend was sucking the skin around your collarbone. At first, your hand traced his toned chest, then it moved southwards to feel his abs, and further down to his…
“Y-You’re hard.” Your eyes widened as you felt his growing erection behind the fabric of his sweatpants. It wasn’t your first time seeing his boner, but it was the first time you touched it with your own hand. It was the first time you had your palm stroking his length, swallowing hard as you realized just how hard and thick he was. 
“It wants to be inside you,” he whispered through your mouth, kissing you back again, “so bad, baby.” 
Gosh. Your knees felt weak and you two hadn’t even really started yet. How much more when he starts putting that thing of his inside you? You were breathing hard, trying to catch air as your boyfriend continued to lap his tongue with yours, guiding your hand to continue fondling his wood while it grew bigger the more stimulated it got. By letting you touch his hardened crotch together with his own, you realized that you had just unlocked a newfound fetish of yours. “D-Do you… do you think about doing it with me often?”
He bit your lower lip before pulling away, animalistic eyes sending you into an orbit of pleasure. “Do you mean if I touch myself to the thought of you a lot?” he teased, chuckling darkly at the obvious heat on your cheeks. You couldn’t help but feel excited at how vulgar he could be with his words. “I do jack off a lot, angel. And it’s always you in my mind.” 
You didn’t even have the time to melt from his words, because before you knew it, he was already peeling the towel off your body to reveal your completely naked figure. Obviously, your first reaction was to get shy—with your heated cheeks, your inability to look him in the eyes, your little efforts in covering your breasts and crotch, but he made sure to pull your hands away while keeping his eyes on you. “…Don’t stare.” 
Sukuna, however, didn’t listen. His dark eyes scanned every curve of your body, particularly around your chest area before he sighed and threw his head back. “Fuck,” he cussed under his breath. “You’re so fucking sexy. I can’t believe no other punk has seen you like this.” 
Your confidence grew little by little because of his praises. “But isn’t that a good thing?” 
“For sure.” He almost laughed at his own words, more so in disbelief, before he reached out to touch your bosom. “No one can touch you like this, either, baby.” 
“That’s—”
“Hmm?” Your boyfriend smirked at your reaction. While his other hand went to squeeze your breast, the other traveled to your bum, squeezing the cheek with equal fervor. “Can I have a taste of you, baby?”
He fondled your breasts with both hands now, massaging the rounded mass like they were his property. You had to admit to yourself that the feeling of being touched actually transcended your expectations. Or maybe it was only because of how erotic it was, but you couldn’t deny how turned on you were as his veiny, manly hands cupped your bosom. 
And as soon as you nodded and permitted him to ‘taste’ you, he took no time in gently pushing you down the mattress, allowing you to lay at a comfortable position under him and his wanton stare. Taste you? He was more like eating you, when he pinned you against the mattress and sucked the skin on your chest. At first, his tongue rolled along your cleavage, inching closer and closer to your right breast while he had his hand squeezing the left. Your body naturally gravitated towards him as you arched your back so he could have better access to your chest. Not only your chest, but also your crotch as he started grinding his clothed manhood in between your folds. 
“Mm…”
Sukuna’s mouth was on your breast now, suckling on your flesh and playing his tongue around your nipple. You couldn’t tell if it was pleasurable or painful because his tongue felt ticklish on your skin, but the suction definitely was an entirely different feeling. Both weren’t bad, anyway. They were just new to you. But even if they were foreign, you were curious and all the more interested, studying every little thing he was doing with your body and trying to make mental notes out of it. 
Maybe you should have watched porn. That way, you could have been more aware of the step-by-step process of having sex. Who knew there were steps to follow at all? You didn’t think that foreplay could draw this much delay in your session because all you thought was that he was going to insert his cock straight inside you as soon as he saw you naked. 
With all the touching, fondling, and kissing… what were you supposed to do? He was doing all the work here. 
“Baby,” you spoke softly, staring at the ceiling, “C-Can I… touch you?” 
Instead of pulling away, his mouth latched onto your left boob, giving it the same attention before moving south. “Not yet.” 
When he said that, you didn’t expect his hand to land on your crotch. Your heart was thumping at an irregular rhythm as you felt his fingers moving in circles around your bud, playing with your clit before spreading your folds apart. “Nghh—!” you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, eyes widening at the sound of your voice, but your boyfriend shushed you by placing a peck on your lips before spreading your legs into a V. 
“You’re so wet,” he said, pointing out the obvious as he positioned himself in between your legs, spreading your labia to reveal your entrance. Something about the situation made you increasingly self-conscious, but his undeniably hungry gaze kept you from covering your most sensitive area. It seemed like he was enjoying the sight of your pussy, especially with how wet and ‘untouched’ it was. “Your pussy’s so pretty, baby,” he mumbled, lowering his face closer to the area, “Can’t wait to put my dick inside it.” 
You whimpered at the feeling of his tongue in between your folds. No, you couldn’t even think straight after he started teasing your vagina, alternating between flicking his tongue around your bud to french kissing your entrance. His tongue was so deep in your cavern that you were raising your hips involuntarily, going insane from the pleasure it sent your body. Your hands even gripped the sheets and your back arched into a C as you held back from moaning like a wild animal. At some point, the slurping sounds and the feeling of his mouth kissing your vagina had your legs shaking. 
Though, you could ask yourself: what turned you on the most? Was it him actually eating your pussy or just the idea of him doing it? 
And just when you thought he was done, he replaced his mouth by inserting a finger inside your cunt, garnering a much louder whimper out of you. “B-Baby!”
“Does it hurt?” he asked, eyes locked with yours as he slowly moved his middle finger in and out. “It’s so tight.” 
“It hurts…” You nodded, feeling his finger moving in circles inside your cunt as though he was trying to get a feel of your walls, measuring the tightness and such. 
He kissed you for a good minute. “Relax, angel. Don’t clench too much.” 
Clench? You didn’t even know you were doing such a thing. “How to…?” 
“Just relax.” Sukuna placed a hand on your abdomen, pressing it down while he was inserting yet another finger inside of you. “This’ll help you prepare so it won’t hurt as much later.” 
Now, you were goddamn nervous. What did he mean it wouldn’t hurt as much? Because you were overthinking the pain of having him his actual cock inside of you. If you couldn’t even bear having his two fingers inside you, how much more with his clearly thick shaft? It was ridiculous to feel both anxious and yet aroused at the same time. Anxious, because you knew he could rip you open. Aroused, because his fingers were currently doing a great job at hitting your most sensitive spot. Whatever it was that he was reaching, it was certainly sending waves of ecstasy throughout your body. 
His fingers continued to move. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. Around. When he pulled his digits out, he sucked the juices on them, tasting every drip of your essence from his fingers. “Sweet.”
Were you? You started to get curious at how he tasted, too. Sweet? Salty? Bitter? You seemed to be moving on autopilot when you pulled yourself up and sat in bed on your knees. “Your turn?” 
You asked the question as if you knew what you were doing, which was why Sukuna found it adorable and humorous at the same time. He did help you pull down the sweatpants that had been covering his erection for what felt like eternity, only to reveal a monstrous size that sprung out of the garment. 
Holy fuck was all you could say. 
He stood at the edge of the bed, a devilish smirk displayed on his saintly face as he saw the length of his cock compared to your face. You obviously hadn’t seen many cocks in your lifetime to be able to compare his size, but in your eyes, he was definitely big. He was girthy. He was lengthy. He was veiny. Meaty. 
“Wanna suck it for me, baby?” he encouraged, pumping his shaft while looking at you. Fuck. “Open your mouth.” 
You did as told, wrapping a hand at the base of his length while placing his tip on your mouth. You pressed your tongue flat on the surface of his tip, rolling your tongue around the head as if it were a lollipop. Was that what you were supposed to do?
“Eyes on me.” His voice deepened an octave. And it was also raspier. 
Why did he want you to look up at him? It was already embarrassing. 
“I said, eyes on me, angel.” He grabbed your chin and forced you to lock eyes with his darkened ones. Damn. No wonder girls were desperate to see him in his shop every single day. This was probably what they had been daydreaming about. “Suck my cock.” 
In your head, you became a slut. In reality, you were still a shy, inexperienced virgin who didn’t know what to do. You relied on his instructions and looked at his expressions to know if you were doing a good job and to see what he liked and didn’t like. He definitely liked it when you sucked the head, liked it even more when you started to let him go deeper in your mouth, and surely liked it a hell lot better when you gagged after his cock hit the back of your throat. But in spite of the string of saliva that left your mouth after gagging from his cock, his arousal only grew harder, this time holding your hair in his fist as he began thrusting his hip forward. You were bobbing your head at a rhythm that satisfied him, feeling the stretch on your scalp as he tightened his grip on your hair. 
“Tighten your mouth around it,” he instructed, fucking your mouth senselessly like hitting your throat was driving him nuts. Your eyes were already filling up with tears because of your urge to gag again, but you didn’t think it would be a good idea to stop now while he was just starting to pleasure himself. 
This was the first time in your life to give someone a blowjob, and you weren’t sure what to make of that experience. It personally didn’t give you pleasure, but you liked hearing his desperate moans. You liked hearing him curse and get vulgar with his words. You liked seeing him get rough. His taste, on the other hand, was somewhat a different experience. Since you were only sucking his flesh, it was a tad bit salty at first contact but didn’t taste anything much after tongue got used to the skin around his shaft. Perhaps his cum would have a stronger flavor, though it looked like he had no plans in releasing his load into your mouth as he pulled his member out. 
“Fuck it,” he grunted, gently pushing you back and spreading your legs wide open again, “I wanna feel your pussy so bad. Can I fuck you raw, babe?” 
All those condoms, and he wanted to have you raw? 
“But… I don’t wanna get pregnant.” 
His face was full of assurance, shaking his head and denying any chance of knocking you up. “You won’t be. I’ll pull out, I just… I have to feel you raw the first time. I have to.” 
“Okay…” 
You were nervous as hell. You had butterflies in your stomach, your heart pounding in your chest like a drumbeat you couldn’t silence. You had imagined this moment countless times, but now that it was here, the reality of it was too overwhelming. Your mind yet again raced with a whirlwind of doubts and insecurities, and every nerve on your body seemed to be on high alert while you watched him getting occupied with rubbing his entire length with lube, ensuring a smooth entrance inside you. 
He was nervous too, right? You couldn’t be the only one. You couldn’t be. 
You just wanted everything to be perfect. To show him how much you cared. To feel that you were enough. But the thought was paralyzing. Tonight was more than just physical intimacy; it was a step forward in your relationship, a moment of connection you wanted so badly to cherish. This first intimate encounter should be filled with love, respect, and mutual understanding. 
But what if after this, he’d come to realize that you weren’t the one? What if he’d get disappointed and tell you that you weren’t worth it? What if he’d leave you for someone else who could pleasure him better? What if, after you had given yourself to him, no one else would ever appreciate you anymore? 
You wanted this, didn’t you? You wanted to feel the heat of his touch, the intensity of his gaze, the intimacy of your connection. You wanted to explore this uncharted territory with him, to dive headfirst into the unknown and discover what lay on the other side. But were you really ready for this? Did you truly want this? Would it be everything you had imagined, or would you regret losing your virginity to him?
The fear of inadequacy gnawed at your confidence as Sukuna positioned himself back in between you, his tip rubbing at your slit a couple times before he finally sunk it into your entrance. 
“Haaa—!” 
“Shh. It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay.”
“N-No, I—!”
It felt like your walls were being stretched so painfully, like your flesh was being torn open in the most agonizing way. This was not the kind of pain you pictured out when he put his member inside. Sukuna even tried to grab hold of your hips to keep you steady, but you were withdrawing your hips back, wanting nothing but for him to remove his cock. 
“It hurts… It hurts… please, stop. Please!” 
“Baby, I’m trying to be gentle—”
“I SAID STOP!” 
Both of your eyes widened at the same time, and that was the only time you two were ever in sync. He was clearly shocked by your outburst, while you yourself were surprised at how you raised your voice at him. Neither of you expected that situation. As a result, he did pull away and completely withdrew himself from you. 
Frustration was evident on his visage and he couldn’t even hide it anymore. “Fuck this,” he spat in exasperation, taking a deep breath as he reached to slip his sweatpants back on. “I knew it.” 
“No, I…” You swallowed. “It just… You kinda forced it, I wasn’t ready.” 
“I forced it, really? I forced you?” His laugh was out of complete disbelief. “I never forced you into anything, angel. I’ve asked you since the beginning if this is really what you want.” He took a pause, a very uncomfortable one, before he went on murmuring, “It was just my tip and you’re overreacting like this. I’m not even halfway in.”
His agitation had finally awakened you to your senses, realizing that you did end up doing what you were scared of doing. You ruined the moment. You were so caught up in your bubble of negative thoughts that you had once again failed to fulfill what you were supposed to do. No wonder he was aggravated, now sitting away from you and wearing his clothes as if telling you that he was done. Done being blue balled by his own girlfriend. Done expecting something he was never really bound to have. 
You reached out to touch his arm. “Baby, I’m sorry… I just got scared, but we can still—”
“Still do it?” he continued your sentence by ironically cutting you off, “No, the fuck, I won’t. I’m not in the mood anymore.” 
His reaction brought tears to your eyes, because the way he was acting stung your fragile heart. You didn’t mean to ruin anything. More importantly, you didn’t wish for everything to just turn out like this. “I-I’m sorry. Let me try again, please.” 
The weakness of your voice seemed to have softened him, becoming calmer and more composed after a few minutes of contemplation, but he still held his ground when he massaged his temple and sighed. “Let’s just not push it, Y/N.” He looked at your eyes, with hurt and rejection reflecting on them. “Even if you say you wanna do it, you think I can’t see it in your face that you’re not really into it? You’re never ready for me and maybe it’s my fault, maybe there’s something about me that you’re so scared of. Maybe it’s because you don’t feel secure with me, maybe you wanna save yourself for someone better, someone who can give you a brighter future—”
“That’s not true!” You shook your head desperately, your eyes blurring from the pool of tears while you clung to his arm. Where was all this coming from? It sounded like he had been harboring those feelings for so long. “That’s not true. What are you even saying?” 
“I don’t even know what I’m saying. I’m just…” Trying to give a reason why you won’t give it to me. That must be what he had wanted to say. “Look, I don’t wanna pressure you into this bullshit anymore. I don’t wanna make it look like I’m begging for your affection like this. Intimacy should happen normally for couples, and if we can’t have that, then we can’t. That’s it.” 
Why did he sound like he was giving up? 
You tried to keep your emotions at bay while listening to him battling with his internal thoughts. “I understand I disappointed you tonight, but…”
He was adamant at shaking his head, distancing himself from you by getting up from the bed. “No, you got nothin’ to apologize for. It’s your body and your choice. I’d never force you into anything.” 
Then… then…
“I just think it’s not the perfect time,” he continued, shooting you a glance before looking away. Each step he took added another crack on your fragile heart. “From now on, I’m never gonna initiate anything intimate nor will I expect anything from you, aight? I’m over it.”
Alone in your vulnerability, you could feel the cold air hugging your naked body as you watched him walk towards the door, leaving you in the dark both literally and figuratively. “Where a-are you going? Come on… Please.” 
He no longer cared to turn around. He no longer bothered to comfort you as he walked away, muttering, “Just gonna go for a ride. Don’t wait on me.” 
— —
Nearly three weeks had passed since that night and you would be lying if you said everything was okay. 
No, everything was not okay. You could feel the distance growing each day even when you two still did everything together. Your normal routines didn’t feel normal anymore because he was acting too detached ever since he told you that he wouldn’t initiate anything intimate ever again. And to be honest? It hurt. A whole fucking lot. Hearing your partner say that they would never wish to do anything intimate with you was probably the worst way to experience heartbreak. Because he was truthful with it, and he showed it very openly. 
Now, he’d lock the door whenever he would take showers. He’d spent most of his time outside riding his bike until midnight. He stopped texting you sweet messages while on tattoo shop duty. He seldomly joined you to eat breakfast and dinner together. His back would face you whenever you two slept in bed. His eyes avoided you even when you walked around in underwear. His hand wouldn’t touch you even when you were centimeters close to him. There were no kisses exchanged either, unless obliged to do so when leaving the house. No hugs. No hair-stroking, hand-holding sweetness ever shared. You were simply cohabiting in your shared apartment like strangers who had barely even said I love you’s. 
“Man, that’s rough,” remarked Suguru Getou, your cousin and the barista, as he tidied up the counter behind the elevated bar. Having just served his friend an Americano, he listened intently as you vented about your situation with Sukuna. “I’ll be honest with you, Y/N. It’s not looking good for you.”
You knew that. You just refused to acknowledge it. “I mean, all couples fight.” 
Suguru shook his head, however. “You two aren’t even fighting. Dude just gave up and started detaching himself from you. If that’s not a sign already, then I don’t know what is.” 
“What sign?” you asked, hiding the obvious worry in your voice. You need not be dense about his words, but you wanted to have some kind of hope to grasp on. 
“Sign that he’s falling out of love?” he continued. 
And somehow, his white-haired friend thought it would be okay to chime in. “More like a sign that the tool's not interested anymore and is about to dump her.”
Your face felt hot and in the most terrible way. “Sorry, what was your name again?” you asked, your tone dripping with sarcasm. You hadn’t expected the guy to suddenly chime in, considering he had been quietly typing on his laptop just moments before. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion, so don’t go listening to somebody else’s business when you’re not part of the conversation.”
“Jeez,” said the albino guy, grinning at your cousin as if amused by your barrage of a response. “She’s a yapper, too. I thought she was supposed to be this sweet and innocent type, Suguru?”
“Not always.” Suguru chuckled at his friend before turning to you, apologetic eyes now attempting to soothe your nerves. “Sorry ‘bout that, Y/N. Satoru just likes to tease people. Don’t mind him.”  
You kept a straight face. “Well, then maybe tell your friend to keep his nose out of conversations he’s not invited to.” 
“Yes, ma’am.” Satoru gave you a playful salute before extending his hand towards you. “Look, I didn’t mean to overhear, but I actually sympathize with you. If it were me, I’d never do that to you, baby.”
Oh, God. You were so bad at this. Was he flirting with you or was he simply playful like this? 
Nevertheless, you rolled your eyes and ignored the hand he offered, essentially brushing off his advances. “I don’t need sympathy. All I’m here for is to talk to my cousin to try and have his advice on the matter,” you emphasized pointedly, making it clear to Satoru that he was the last person you wanted advice from. “I don’t need a stranger listening to my personal life.” 
“Doesn’t hurt to receive advice from another guy,” countered Satoru, shrugging. “Right, Suguru? I mean, we’re both guys. We can give you some insight into how men think.” 
You felt the urge to bury your face in your hands. It was clearly a mistake going there and putting yourself in that situation, and now having two guys aware of your sex life with your boyfriend. That alone was so wrong on many levels. But could it be helped? Suguru was your closest cousin, the only one who didn’t turn his back on you after you left your parents’ home. He was working at a cafe three blocks away from your flower shop and you happened to be delivering a batch of fresh floral decorations for their cafe. You obviously found it a good opportunity to open up to him about your struggling relationship and hoped he could offer some male perspective on Sukuna’s behavior. You just hadn’t anticipated his friend eavesdropping on the conversation the entire time.
Well, that should have been expected anyway, since only the three of you were in that cafe on a lazy Wednesday afternoon. 
“I don’t kiss and tell, by the way.” Satoru was beaming as he gave you that assurance and you couldn’t help but admit that the man had some charm in him. He was attractive, no doubt about it. He was also tall, toned, and seemingly well off based on the way he dressed. He had a casual yet preppy style, something you would normally see from guys who went to private school. 
“Do you work?” you asked out of sheer curiosity. “You don’t seem like the type.” 
“Oh, now she’s interested.” Satoru seemed to have found your sudden interest in him humorous. “I’m finishing my MBA, miss. Thank you for asking.”
“He’s a privileged rich kid with generational wealth and a family business,” Suguru remarked, playfully gesturing a cutting motion across his neck. “Definitely not your type, huh, Y/N?”
“Why, what’s her type?” The white-haired man looked intrigued, pulling his stool closer. He had that stupid grin on his face as though the topic just sparked his curiosity. “What’s her boyfriend like?”
Suguru, who wanted to play along, jokingly hummed in deep thought. “He’s got tattoos, likes to tattoo other people, is a college dropout, rides a big bike, smokes and drinks, listens to heavy metal, was probably a delinquent and a juvie alumni—”
“Excuse you, he’s never been in a juvenile detention center,” you defended your man, feeling like your cousin’s categorization of Sukuna was becoming a little too derogatory and you had to correct him for that, “and he’s a good man. He’s sweet and caring, he’s passionate, and he loves me sincerely.” 
“Sincerely, not?” Satoru quipped, earning your glare in return. He immediately raised his hands in surrender. “I'm just joking. If you believe he’s all that, that’s your choice. I don’t judge booktok girls who romanticize typical bad boys.”
You rolled your eyes at his audacity. Each word that left his mouth seemed to stoke the flames of your irritation. “You’re so offensive, I’ll have you know that.” 
The white-haired guy smugly took a sip from his coffee. “At least I don’t make girls feel guilty for not having sex with me.” 
“Oooh.” Suguru was clearly enjoying the show, unaware that you were one step closer from smacking his friend across the face. “Touché. He kinda has a point, Y/N.” 
“Be serious,” you warned. 
To which he agreed to. “Okay, I am being serious now,” he said, abandoning his playful stance to lean in on a more solemn posture against the counter, “If you think Sukuna makes you feel guilty for not doing it with him, then shouldn’t that speak for the kind of relationship you two have? He wants something you can’t give. His reaction tells you everything you need to know about him.” 
You tried to absorb his words with a better understanding and without any bias. “Isn’t his reaction normal? He’s a man, too. I understand his needs and I made him feel somewhat rejected.”
“It’s all about respect, Y/N,” answered Suguru, “If he’s a decent man, he wouldn’t make you feel that way. No mixed signals, no guilt tripping, no nothing. If you can’t do it, then don’t.” 
“So, you’re saying you wouldn’t feel the same if your girlfriend keeps rejecting sex with you?” 
Suguru smirked. “I never said I’m a decent man, either. All I’m saying is if what you want isn’t exactly aligned to what he wants, then maybe it’s best you break it off with him because this shit won’t get you anywhere, Y/N. Trust me. He’s gonna dump you before you know it. I mean, it’s one thing to pretend he’s all fine with it, and it’s another to distance himself from you like he’s silently protesting.” 
“Yeah, that’s true,” Satoru joined in once again. “It’s impossible for a guy like that to be in a relationship for so long and not have any pussy. We think of sex 24/7, some of us are just better at restraining ourselves than others. He’s putting up with it now, but it’s only a matter of time he gets sick and tired of waiting. You do realize he can get any girl he wants, anytime he wants, right?” 
Although you were still uncomfortable at Satoru casually chiming in on the conversation, it was true when they said they could give you the exact male perspective you needed to hear. This allowed you to go deeper into Sukuna’s psyche and understand why he was acting that way. You just didn’t know how to save the connection you have with your boyfriend when both your cousin and his friend were describing all the red flags on Sukuna’s behavior. 
“I don’t know,” you spoke in a tone of defeat. “I kinda understand where he’s coming from, so I can’t just leave him for it. I love him.”
Satoru looked at your cousin like you couldn’t be saved. “She’s in too deep.” 
“Yeah, gaslighted as fuck.” Suguru was shaking his head in disappointment. 
The taller man chuckled and brought up a ridiculous offer to lighten the situation up. “Honestly, Y/N. I know we just met and all, but if you ever need someone to teach you how to do good in bed, just hit me up. He’ll never know.” 
“Shut up,” you shot back at Satoru, eyes rolling at his remark. 
“You’re out here feeling bad for that guy when he could be fucking his clients at the tattoo shop.”
You argued. “No, he’s not—”
“Are you sure he isn’t?” 
It wasn’t Suguru nor Satoru who posed that question; it was Yuki Tsukumo, the café’s manager and Suguru's respected senior. She was in a relationship with one of your boyfriend’s stepbrothers, Choso, and was also a fellow biker, which allowed her to cross paths with Sukuna in their community. Despite this connection, she was never particularly close to him. In fact, Yuki didn’t personally get along with Sukuna and she was very vocal about it. She was, however, a regular client of yours and ordered floral arrangements from your shop on a weekly basis.
It had been awhile since you last saw her, and didn’t expect that the first greeting you would give her was a question. “Yuki, what do you mean?” 
Great. Now, three people know about your relationship quagmires. 
She was placing her helmet at the counter and sitting on a stool before answering you, “I really think you should talk to him about it, Y/N.” 
No, no. Why did you suddenly feel a pang of anxiety out of nowhere? Something about the sympathy in Yuki’s eyes felt unsettling, and it sent a wave of fear through you. She definitely knew something. What was Sukuna doing behind your back?
“Can you please just tell me?” 
Her gaze studied your face intently, as if deliberating on the right thing to do. “Well... I spotted him riding with a girl the other night. Initially, I thought it might be you, but last night, I saw them together again. I recognized her... because it was his ex. I think he’s been giving her rides home lately.” 
Amidst the quiet of the room, your heart felt like it was breaking in two. The sudden revelation sent you into an abyss of pain.
“You might wanna visit his tattoo shop later.” Yuki encouraged me with a comforting smile. “It may be best to confront him about it.”
— —
Sukuna wasn’t sure how to act around you anymore. It wasn’t like he was purposely avoiding you, but he just didn’t feel comfortable acting like everything was fine and dandy. Because if he was damn honest, the sexual frustration was fucking with his head. So much so to the point where he started questioning himself if he should still put up with a relationship like this. 
First of all, there were pros and cons involved. He had to consider that it was a special connection filled with special memories, too. 
If he was talking about the pros, he knew he would have a loving lifetime partner with you. You were beautiful, kind, and pure. You inspired him and motivated him to be better. You were unmaterialistic and happy with the littlest things. You gave his dominant side the urge to be a better man, like he was made to protect and provide for you. You became his muse; a blank canvas that was all for him to paint on. A canvas that no one had ever touched. Or, in your world, a white lily that was associated with chastity and virtue. 
But then, there were also cons, and the foremost of it being you were too conservative for your own good. You grew up in a strict environment with uptight parents who wanted to control your life. He could never voice it out, but he really hated that you were square like your parents sometimes. You were too traditional and afraid to explore new experiences, oftentimes policing him for living his life as free as he wanted it to be. The ‘opposites attract’ thing did seem to work in your relationship at first, with your differences being exciting for each other, but as time went by, it became clearer to him that you two were too different to actually be in sync together. 
Hence why your relationship became rigid and suffocating, forcing him to take a breather by distancing himself from you for some time. He did this for your benefit, because he had to clear his head before risking losing you for good. He didn’t want to jeopardize a relationship that he knew meant the world to him. Perhaps this was just a phase, a challenging period following the honeymoon phase, where all your differences seemed to become more pronounced.
But to repeatedly make him look forward to sharing intimacy with you, only for you to back out at the very last minute? Man, was that so frustrating. 
It didn’t help that it was destiny itself that seemed to be stirring the pot. Because while you two were going through a rough time in your relationship, the irony presented itself outside of Sukuna’s tattoo shop late at night just as he was about to close. 
“Ryo?” A tall woman with athletic build, long dark hair, and beautiful doe eyes came into view with a wide smile on her face. 
His ex-girlfriend of three years. 
Sukuna held the door for her albeit the confusion in his eyes. “Yorozu?” 
The only difference he noticed was that she had become a lot sexier, with the curves on her body more womanly than ever. It was obvious that she was active in the gym to achieve such a fit physique. But other than that, her facial features were the same. Her heart eyes still shone bright at the mere sight of him, as if they carried stars and galaxies. 
“I think I came too late,” said Yorozu, smiling in disappointment, “I should probably just return tomorrow.” 
“No, you’re good.” Sukuna insisted on letting her enter his shop, closing the door as soon as she was inside. “What brought you here?” 
She stood confidently in front him, wearing nothing but a blank tank top and some loose white pants. “Funny story ‘cause I actually just moved to this city recently and I just found out you had a shop in this area.” 
Oh? That was interesting, indeed. Sukuna wondered how she even found his shop in that case, while he was leading her to the tattoo chair. “Are you here to get a tattoo or?” 
“Yeah, yeah I am.” She was sprinkling some charm in her grin. He knew her too well. “I think it’s amazing that I’m gonna get it from you again.”
While Yorozu was talking to him, he couldn’t help but ask: was it wrong for him to be in the same vicinity as his ex? Considering how jealous you could get, this was definitely wrong in your eyes. But as he wasn’t doing anything sketchy, he figured there was nothing wrong about what he was doing. Yorozu was technically a client and he couldn’t deny her his services since she was basically a friend of his, too. So, was he breaking any code here? 
“Well, only if you have time now, of course,” she added out of consideration, “It’s kinda late so I can always come back.” 
Sukuna shook his head and headed to get his book of tattoo art samples. “It’s fine. I got clients lined up all day tomorrow, so,” he said, placing the book on her lap, “You wanna check that or do you have a design in mind already?” 
Yorozu’s eyes fell on the tattoos marking Sukuna’s body, her gaze landing on every familiar inch as though she had seen them all the time before. It was true. She had seen more of him, actually. She had done more with his body, too. “I kinda wanna get a sleeve, but I want you to choose the design for me.” 
A tattoo sleeve? Damn. It was something he would never in a million years see from you, but for Yorozu, it was totally normal. She was as obsessed with ink as he was. And although she’s had a couple of tattoos in her body already, which were done by him, it would be her first time to get a full sleeve. 
“I get to choose, really?” Sukuna chuckled lightly. If he were to think of Yorozu’s traits, she was definitely a classic red rose. A seductress, alluring woman was how he saw her and the said flower would be a true-to-life representation of her personality. She was passionate when it came to loving someone, and was completely devoted to him back when they were together. The only reason they broke up was because they were too similar, as if she was his counterpart, and he saw fit to leave a relationship where they both constantly battled for dominance. Yorozu could get too aggressive on loving someone and he didn’t particularly like that. He made her understand why they weren’t working as a couple, and it took her some time, but she eventually accepted his decision. Now, you could say, they were somehow on good terms. “Alright, I’ll do your sleeve, but I’ll keep the design as a surprise.” 
Her eyes sparkled in excitement at the thought. “I’d love that!” 
“Since you want a sleeve, we’re gonna do some stencil application today.” Sukuna didn’t waste any more time in getting ready with his equipment, biting on the glove while wearing the other on his hand. “It’ll take fifteen to twenty hours to complete a sleeve, and each session could last two to six hours depending on your pain tolerance. My schedule’s actually full all day until next week, but you can come around the same time every night so I can finish yours.” 
“Yeah, I’m absolutely fine with that,” she enthused. For some reason, Yorozu was happy with the idea. The idea of coming to visit Sukuna every night in his shop. The idea that they get to be alone. The idea that they would be able to reconnect just like old times. Those were the things that Sukuna assumed was going through her head. 
And as he did start with his ‘client’, it was probably best to admit that the sexual tension was high. The room felt stuffy as the both of them remained there until midnight, with her sitting on the tattoo chair, and him doing her tattoo to her left. His eyes were intently focused on the intricate patterns he was doing on her arm, but also couldn’t avoid seeing the contours of her breasts since she was wearing such a thin tank top. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen them before. He’d seen every part of her body from her neck down to her toes. He’d put her in every position from missionary to doggy. Goddamn, he could even remember how warm she felt around his cock. Didn’t she like it when he came inside her? Or when he made her swallow every drop of his seed? 
Sukuna cleared his throat, shaking his vulgar thoughts away as he continued with Yorozu’s arm. He may not be cheating, but thinking back on those intimate experiences with someone else other than his girlfriend was definitely not morally right either. But what sexual experience could he reminisce about with you? That ridiculously embarrassing night you two had shouldn’t even be counted since he was trying so hard to forget about it. 
He cleared his throat. Again. For the third time. “What, uh, what’ve you been up to?” 
Yorozu, who had no clue about his thoughts, turned her face to look at him happily. “Not much, actually. The bar I worked at closed down, but I got myself a new job in this club as a full time hostess and part-time promoter. You should come by. Drinks on me.” 
By not exactly accepting or refusing, Sukuna decided to just smile it off. “That’s why you moved to this city?” 
“Yeah, I mean… obviously, the rent here is higher, but it’s closer to my job. I get paid decently, too.” 
“That’s nice.” He was just trying to make small talk at this point. “Do you know your way ‘round here? How are you gonna get home?” 
She considered her options. “Probably a bus or something?” 
Sukuna paused, contemplating the situation. “There's no bus here at midnight,” he remarked, concerned for the girl who would have to navigate her way home alone at such a late hour. She was new to the area and clearly still adjusting to the commuter lifestyle. Unlike her, he had a vehicle that could safely transport her home. There would be no harm in offering, right? “Look, I have a bike and I usually take midnight rides, anyway. I can drop you off on my way home.”
“Really?” Her voice echoed excitement in them. “I’d appreciate it, Ryo. Thanks so much.” 
Life was ironic, truly. He didn’t see this situation coming because he never expected that he would even come across Yorozu ever again. They didn’t have any contact prior, but he still saw her on social media whenever he (on very rare occasions) decided to check his accounts. He never had her blocked, either, which was why you knew about Yorozu after snooping through his phone and reading through some of his old messages with her. Sukuna used to tell you not to worry about her, and that she was just his ex, and that she had nothing on you—which were all true, of course, but it was funny to him now that the woman his girlfriend was most threatened by was back in his life. 
And she was riding at the backseat of his motorbike, her arms latching at nothing else but around his torso. She was seated at the seat reserved for you, wearing the helmet that was bought for you, and holding onto a man that was rightfully yours. It all didn’t feel right. 
But because Yorozu delighted in his habit of speeding on the highway, he had somehow forgotten about the guilt that was forming in his heart. 
**
“You still have your ex’s Instagram?” Your questioning eyes met his defensive ones as he joined you in the living room, finding his space on the couch next to you. “I read your dms. Why haven’t you blocked her?” 
Sukuna’s breath remained steady. “Only toxic people do that shit.” 
“But I’m not comfortable with it!” you nagged, letting him snatch his phone from your grasp. 
“Do you see me talking to her still?” he asked, trying to be as patient as he could be, “Baby, I don’t even talk to her. I don’t think she’s active there, either.” 
You crossed your arms. “Then, block her?” 
“You’re being ridiculous.” 
“I’m being fair. You shouldn’t be keeping tabs with an ex.” 
“What are you—” Sukuna decided to cut his own sentence after realizing that the argument was plain stupid. “You know what, I’ll just delete my insta.” 
**
“How many times do you two do it?” you asked out of nowhere, sitting at the waiting area while he was closing his shop. “Your ex. How often do you have sex with her?” 
What kind of trap were you setting now? If he told you an honest answer, you would get mad. If he lied or even sugar coated it, you would also get mad. 
“Does it matter? Why do you keep asking questions about her and then get upset with me?” Sukuna’s frustration resonated in his sigh as he tidied the space where he tattooed his client a few minutes ago. “She’s an ex for a reason, so get over it.”
He was starting to get annoyed by your never-ending questions about his past experiences, but he knew you were simply coming from a place of no experience. You probably wanted to know what he liked in bed, what pleased him the most, what kept him from wanting more. Was that too much? No. Were you overdoing this entire thing? A little bit. 
“Why are you defensive?” you asked softly, still sitting on the couch as you watched him avoid your eyes. “You make me feel so insecure every time.” 
He scoffed, shaking his head as he turned around. “I don’t know, baby. If you’re feeling insecure, then do something about it.” 
**
“Thanks so much for the ride, Ryo.” 
Yorozu stood by her door, returning the helmet back to him while she kept her eyes locked on his. Her gaze was inviting, tempting him to give in and submit to his carnal desires. Any man would read her intentions the same way; Yorozu stared at him like that because she wanted to invite him to her place. She wanted him to spend the night and do unforgivable things. To remember the passionate exchange they once shared. 
But Sukuna wasn’t like that. No, he wasn’t a cheater. “I, uh, gotta get going.” 
“Oh…” Disappointment clouded Yorozu’s face. “Okay, then.” 
“See you tomorrow?” 
“...Alright.” 
“Okay.” 
“Wait!” Yorozu pulled his arm just as he was heading back to his motorbike. The sudden closeness in their proximity made his heart race fast. He knew what was coming. “I missed you, Ryo.” 
He knew what she was about to do next. 
And holy fuck did he guess right, as he was taken aback when Yorozu suddenly leaned in to press her lips onto his. Her soft, cherry lips moved desperately to taste his sweet kisses. 
But he didn’t return it. Instead, he immediately pushed her away. “Yorozu,” he spoke softly, “I have a girlfriend.” 
“You do?” She didn’t need to hide it. He could see the heartbreak on her face. 
“Yeah,” Sukuna confirmed, maintaining a more appropriate distance now. “We’ve been together for some time, and I live with her.”
Yorozu tried to maintain her facade of indifference, making it appear as though she was unfazed by his revelation. “That’s... That’s cool,” she said, “I’m sorry for, uh, the kiss.”
Sukuna nodded, “It’s fine. I should’ve told you sooner.”
“You’re alright,” she reassured him, “It's totally my fault. I hope she won’t be upset with you or something.”
Sukuna had no plans to tell you, knowing well the additional turmoil it would bring to your already strained relationship. However, he realized the importance of clarity in his intentions and the need to set boundaries. “We’re just friends. We’ll keep things civil. I’ll finish your tattoo in a couple more sessions, and then we’re done. Sounds fair?”
Yorozu nodded her head with a reluctant smile. “Fair enough.” 
— —
5 more days. Her sleeve required five more sessions, and days went by too fast for him to count. He had busied himself with his clients, while you had busied yourself with yours. He couldn’t even spend time with you because his shop took a chunk of his time from him, and even at home, things had become too awkward ever since your unspoken night. 
So, in some ways, Yorozu became his routine. She visited his shop for the past four nights and he had taken her home afterwards. She was in absolute love with her rose sleeve and they weren’t even complete yet. He still owed her one last session and told himself that it should also be the last time she should be around him. It wasn’t right and he didn’t want to create another source of argument with you. 
And in truth, he certainly felt a little guilty for spending more time with his ex than his own girlfriend. But did he purposely do it? No, it was fate that brought her to his door about a week ago. 
In spite of his stubbornness to admit his wrongdoing, he still ended up stopping by the flower market to get you a nice bouquet of white lilies. He knew you could make a prettier bouquet than that, but he thought it would be a perfect opportunity to surprise you with flowers that didn’t exactly come from you. Besides, he had some making up to do. 
Later that night, when he returned to your shared home, he found you sitting at the couch seemingly waiting for him to come home. The lights were dimmed and the television was turned off. For some reason, you were wearing outside clothes and had a somber expression on your face, too. That alone caused the loud thumping of his heart. 
“Hey,” he greeted, nonetheless, sitting next to you on the couch and kissing your cheek. “Everything okay, baby?” 
Your eyes carried sadness in them as you looked at him and searched for answers you couldn’t find. “Where were you?” 
Sukuna handed the bouquet over. “Got you flowers.” 
You didn’t accept them. Instead, every second seemed to torture you. “Where were you before that?” 
“In the shop…?” He didn’t know where to start, but he was definitely scared. “Why? Sorry I’ve been busy lately. I’ll make it up to you, angel.” 
“You close your shop at nine,” you pointed out, voice breaking in the middle of your sentence. “Why do you always come home at two in the morning?” 
Fuck. Fuck! What should he say? Should he make an excuse for it? Should he say he’d been checking on Yuuji after his shifts? Should he say he’d been riding to other cities to clear his mind? He didn’t fucking know what to say, especially not when you were clearly on the verge of bursting out. 
“Answer me!” you cried, finally releasing the bottle out in the open. The tears that welled in your eyes now streamed ceaselessly down your face. “You’re an asshole. I-I hate you! I fucking… you think I don’t know? You think I’m too stupid to know?!”
Sukuna calmly received the fists you had swung on his chest as he tried to grab ahold of your arms. “Baby, I’ll explain everything.” 
“No, damn y-you!” The tremor in your voice squeezed his heart in the most painful way because he hated seeing you breaking down in front of him and over him. This wasn’t the first time he had made you cry, but this was the first time he had seen you actually sob like this. “I-I gave myself to you! I left my p-parents for you! And this is what you do to me? You’re cheating on me with your ex?!” 
He was desperate to hold you, hug you, cage you in his arms. He wanted to take your pain away. Wipe your tears away. However, you didn’t allow him to touch even a strand on your hair as you kept on pushing him off. Sukuna felt like he was going to lose his mind. “Baby, listen to me please. It’s really not what you think—”
“I don’t care!” you spat, moving away to wipe the tears off your face. “I don’t fucking care! You sleeping with her or not doesn’t change a thing. Don’t you get it? I’ll never be enough for you!” Despite your loud voice, the cracks in her facade only revealed your longing for validation and acceptance, etching into every tear-stained moment you two had shared over the course of your relationship. He watched you, paralyzed by the sight of you breaking down, as you grabbed a luggage you had been hiding behind the couch as if you were ready to leave. “I’ll never be the person you want me to be and staying with you will always remind me of it!” 
“No, no, no… Let’s talk.” Sukuna had to suppress his own tears while he tried to reach out for you. “Baby, please. I don’t feel anything for her, or anyone. It’s just you. You are enough for me, baby. I’m sorry, please.” 
You, on the other hand, were adamant at your decision. “I can’t stand what you’re doing to me anymore. I don’t like how you make me feel about myself. I hate how you make me question my own choices!” Tears continued to flow, and your voice wavered, transitioning from anger to a more subdued, pained tone. “I hate… I hate that I love you so much, that I lost all my backbone just to make you happy.” 
“You don’t need to.” He was feeling more and more miserable now, his heart sore from all the emotions he had seen from you. “Y/N, you don’t need to. I’m sorry, I love you. I love you so fucking much.”  
“It’s over, Sukuna,” were the last words he could recall hearing before passing out drunk in his bed that afternoon. “We’re done.”
— —
It was your first heartbreak. Your first actual relationship. Your first everything. Surely, people shouldn’t expect you to move on easily, especially not when the subject of your heartache worked across the street from you. 
You were a mess. You had cried enough tears after you moved out of his apartment that night, screamed your heart out as you suffered from the pain of loneliness once more. You couldn’t even bear the thought of returning to your parents and hearing them say they told you so, because loving Sukuna was a choice you thought was good for you. 
In the end, he was just a poison without any antidote. A toxin without remedy. The most effective solution was to sever all ties to prevent further contamination.
But strangely enough, you hadn’t seen him in his shop ever since that night, either. The tattoo parlor remained closed for more than two weeks without any notice. While a small part of you worried for him, a bigger part of you cared for yourself. He no longer held any importance to your life, and you should let it remain that way. 
What you should focus on, instead, was living your life without any trace of him. A life of independence, away from the toxicity of a manipulative man who constantly made you doubt yourself and what you offered. As they say, you have to learn to love yourself first before you can fully learn to love others. 
And in your journey of knowing the truth of that saying, a certain white-haired man entered your floral shop on a somber Friday afternoon just as you were arranging preordered bouquets for multiple customers to pick up. 
“Hey,” you greeted the man, surprised at his sudden appearance at your shop. 
Satoru grinned as he approached you closer. “I’m here to pick up two bouquets.”
“Oh, it was your order?” Your eyes widened. Silly you. Of course, Suguru would order on his friend’s behalf. He wouldn’t even get his girlfriend some flowers, let alone his mother. So this being Satoru’s order made much more sense. “Okay, you got a bouquet of blush peonies and another bouquet of pink tulips, am I correct?”
He smiled handsomely, displaying his set of perfect white teeth while listening to you talk. “Correct.” 
“For your mom?” you asked before you made your way to pick up the bouquets, handing them to him carefully. 
His response came with a soft, affirmative hum. “Mhm. One for her,” he said, taking only the bouquet of tulips, “The other is for you.” 
Oh, no, no, definitely no. You had seen this before and it didn’t go well. 
“That’s lovely, but…” You offered a smile. “I’m not taking those peonies.” 
Satoru acted innocent, his vibrant blue eyes coruscating under the ambient lights. “But it’s mother’s day.” 
You playfully shook your head. “I’m not even a mother.”
“Yes, you are,” he went on teasing, “the mother of my future kids. I like to think in advance, you know.” 
Honestly? This man started off with a bad impression on you, but he wasn’t actually so bad. He was an easygoing, happy-go-lucky person who carried positive energy around him. That, and he was decent, too. He was the type of guy your parents would have surely approved of. He was a degree holder like you, even pursuing graduate studies to run a business that was already generating an income that you could only imagine of getting. He was set for life with no uncertainty with what he wanted for his future. 
“Satoru?”
He met your gaze. “Yeah?”
“About your offer last time,” you recalled, recalling his earlier jest about teaching you some things in bed, “I think I'd like to take you up on that.”
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fairy-angel222 · 5 months
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𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐏✶𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑, 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑
GETO SUGURU X FEM! READER
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✶⋆.˚cw: smut, choking, pussy and face slapping, praise, degradation, recording, breeding, dumbfication, i love you’s
✶⋆.˚a/n: first one shot in a line set up for this whole concept ;) requested by anon.
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Geto was a kinky man when he wanted to be. Loving the idea of recording each time he fucked you. Balls slapping noisily onto your wet clit as his hand curled in your hair. Lifting your face up into the camera with a degrading coo.
It was a fit of pure boredom that brought him to take it one step further. Convincing you that you two should share the videos. Make everyone see just how good he was destroying you in bed.
When you had agreed, you had never expected the millions of notifications you received within the first week. The comments on how hot you two were as a couple. How hot Geto looked fucking into you. How hot you looked getting fucked by Geto.
You even received some suggestions on videos your new “fans” wanted to see. Hundreds of thousands of people willing to watch, to get off to, anything that you two decided to post.
It was scary and amusing, but Geto was all for it. His chest swelled with pride knowing that so many men now wanted you but couldn’t have you. Knowing that he was the only one who could fuck you so damn good.
You never expected to find yourself agreeing, your lip between your teeth as you read through the comments. Some of the bold suggestions making your thighs clench at the thought of your boyfriend doing these things to you.
The account quickly rose to the top as the weeks went by. And you never got tired of the many positions Geto would flip you into, fucking into you meanly while praising you so degradingly. Showing the world how fast you turned to putty in his hold.
You attracted many different audiences. Your favorite were those girls who swooned not at him, but at you two on a whole. The way he held you, the way he checked up on you when he was done being rough. The aftercare. They thought your relationship was perfect, and would never fail to let you know.
It wasn’t long until people began demanding more of you two in a non porn setting, your other social medias blowing up with those who just couldn’t get enough of your lives. How much cuter Geto was with you out of bed. The many dates he took you on, the gifts he bought you. Everything.
It became something that your fans loved to see. Your relationship on a whole. Their little comments like ‘so cute!’ , ‘i love them so much’ , ‘you guys need to get married’ , ‘my favorite couple ever’ never failed to make your heart swell.
They respected your privacy of course. But would take anything that was put out for their consumption. Porn or otherwise.
“𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃’𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊”
Was what the title of your latest video read, your fans quick to click on the thumbnail the second it got posted. Many already positioning themselves on their beds. Others plugging in their headphones around coworkers or friends. They knew from a mere four seconds in that they already loved what they saw.
Your hands and knees were trembling as your back arched. Fat tears flowing down your cheeks as you begged your boyfriend to touch you. “Please Sugu— please touch me. Wanna feel your cock so bad.” You moaned, wiggling your ass towards him with a needy mewl.
“Does my greedy girl want me to fuck her dumb? Is that what you want pretty?”
“Mhm, need you.”
He was more than happy to comply, not taking long until he was fucking into you roughly from behind. Your body jerking forward each time his hips hammered against your ass.
“S-suguu. Feels so good,” You mewled, Geto’s hand snaking around your throat to pull you up against his chest, forcing you to make eye contact with the blinking red light in front of you.
His breath fanned your ear, lips ghosting over your skin as he groaned deeply. “If only you could see what they see baby. See yourself moan like a slut in heat while that pretty lil’ pussy sucks me in.”
You let out a loud hiccuped moan, Geto’s cock slamming meanly into your g spot before fucking deep inside you. The small outline of his tip barely visible to the device’s lens. “See how much of a mess you are f’me.”
He felt so good. And your head was spinning as he fucked into you with no mercy. Your shaky whimpers echoing throughout the room as Geto molded your pussy around his cock.
“Nngh— sugu ‘m so full. Love your cock s’ muchh.” Your words were slurred as his other hand reached around to rub small circles on your clit. Your sopping pussy leaking lewdly onto the sheets below as he continued to roll his hips up into you.
“Tell them who’s fucking you so good baby.” He grunted, hand on your throat landing two soft slaps onto each of your teary cheeks before settling right back into place on your neck. The light sting pulling a string of whiney moans past your drool filled lips as you pressed further into him.
“You are. You are Sugu. You’re f-fucking me so good ‘nd i love it— haah. Wan’ you to fuck me like this forever.” You babbled, words muffled by an incoherent cry as your hands gripped his muscular arm. Using him for support when your head grew fuzzy, blanking out everything but the feeling of him inside you.
Geto smirked, “That’s my girl.”
You yelped when you were shoved into the mattress. Your back arched deeply with your torso flat on the sheets. Geto’s hand on the back of your neck forcing you to stay cheek down as he switched up his pace.
The new position allowed him to hit so much deeper. Your needy cries going straight to his cock as you drooled messily. Eyes rolling back with a loud moan every time he gave you a harsh thrust forward, sensitive nipples rubbing on the bed till you were clenching down repeatedly. Loud squelches filling the air as your pussy coated his cock in its slick.
“Sugu, ‘m gonna cum.” A trembling cry. “‘M so close.” You could feel your stomach tightening, breathing getting heavier as you gripped the sheets tightly.
“Yeah? Gonna make a fucking mess for me. Show them how good i fucked you today?” He cooed, watching as you nodded dumbly before letting out a choked moan. “Mhm.”
Geto groaned, palm landing onto your clit so he could watch you jerk with a whimper. Your body quivering when he pulled back you up, arms hooking under your legs to lift you off the bed. Body being moved up and down as he used you as his personal fleshlight. Bouncing you on and off his cock till you were crying uncontrollably, his harsh kisses to your sweet spot shooting to every sensitive nerve in your pussy.
“Suguruu. I- nngh, you’re— ahh.” You didn’t know what you were trying to say, your body being manhandled however he liked for your tight pussy to stroke his length. Your toes curling as your head fell back onto his shoulder.
“Shhh baby, it’s okay. Just take it yeah? Doing so fucking well.” Your legs remained dangling over his arms as he used you to both your delights, feeling yourself ready to let go with another shrieked cry. “F-fuckk. ‘M gonna— oh god.”
“You know they love to see that pretty face when you cum baby, look up at the camera f’me.”
You did as you told, head spinning as you attempted to keep it up right. Focusing on the delicious stretch of your walls to accommodate your boyfriend’s girth.
“Go on baby. Let go. ‘M right there behind you.”
Your mouth hung open in what your fans liked to call an adorable scream as your legs shook. Glossy eyes making content with the camera as you squirted messily. The force of the clear liquid making Geto grunt when it threatened to push his cock out of you.
“There you go.. fuck— that’s my good girl. ‘M gonna fill you up so good now. Gonna stuff that tight pussy to the brim with my cum.” He husked, movements getting sloppy as his abs tensed. Lips parted in deep breaths as his eyes rolled back, something that your audience loved to see.
His cock twitching within your warmth with a string of cracked groans when he buried himself deep. Allowing himself to pump you full of the creamy liquid, painting your insides in sticky white.
He pulled out slowly, still holding you up so the camera could pick up the way your little gaped hole fluttered around nothing. His cum running down your puffy folds in thick spurts. “Look at that baby, sopping pussy’s making a big mess.”
Geto set you down with a smile before kissing you sweetly, taking you into his arms and rocking you back and forth in a hug while placing tiny pecks all over your face. “You did so fucking amazing. That was hot.” Leaning into your ear so that his next words wouldn’t be picked up. “If they don’t jerk off to this i promise you i will.”
You could only hum with flushed cheeks , falling into his chest with a small giggle. “I can’t feel my legs.”
Your boyfriend chuckled, “Ya hear that? She can’t feel her legs.” He grinned at the camera making you both laugh, his attention turning back to you with another passionate kiss. “Don’t worry, i’m gonna get you all mice and cleaned up okay? Gonna take real good care of you.”
“M’kay, love you Sugu.”
“I love you more sweetheart.”
It was no surprise the amount of love you got for the video. It was hard to believe that your account could grow anymore than it already had. The comments seemed to be hooked on how Geto could go from fucking you relentlessly to being the sweetest boyfriend telling you that he loves you.
That amongst thousands of men making it known that they came to the sight of you squirting, that one made Geto a little angry. And the thousands of women begging your boyfriend to be next, like that would ever happen.
You refrained the urge to respond to all the demands for more with the fact that you had loads of others coming up. Some with your boyfriend alone and others with.. guests. But they would have to have the patience to see for themselves.
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sukunasteeth · 6 months
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When Sukuna kisses you, it feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest.
You started out perched on his lap, but by now he's reduced you to a boneless, panting heap in his grasp. His arms supporting you are the only things keeping you from melting against him like liquid lust. You're desperate for a moment of solid ground to catch your breath, but Sukuna is adamant on continuously taking it away from you. His calloused hands inching their way up your shirt, brushing softly against your sides, over your rib cage, skimming the underside of your breasts, all in mesmerization at how soft your skin is.
"'Kuna..." You try to capture his attention, which has been taken by his fixation on how sensitive your ears were to the scrape of his teeth.
You're surprised when he answers with a distracted hum, "Yes, my little doe?"
"I -I need a second." You stutter, your heart is thumping wildly in your chest, despite how intoxicated and incapacitated you feel at his mercy. You were starting to forget how to breathe in his close proximity and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep your head straight with his natural scent acting like a pheromone.
You feel his wicked grin against your neck before you hear it in his voice, "Poor thing. Am I working you too hard? I rarely see you so out of sorts..." 
Sukuna doesn't even try to disguise his amusement at your complete inebriation with his kisses. His tongue presses against the nape of your throat before he follows a line of sweat up to your ear, leaving behind a cold stripe of his saliva against your burning hot skin. He holds you fast when you violently shiver against him, "It's a good look on you."
“Please…” You beg with whatever breath you can conjure for him but it comes out as more of a desperate little whimper. That was Sukuna’s favorite tone of your voice, after all. 
And desperate you were. Sukuna had been devouring you for so long, sucking and nipping and licking at whatever part of your revealed skin interested him. You could feel your legs forgetting how to operate.
You just needed a moment. 
Without his permission, you push away from his chest and manage to get to your feet in front of him. Your legs buckle, but you're able to catch yourself before you fall face first back into him. Sukuna is looking up at you, as kiss drunk as you felt, blinking slowly with a satisfied smile. 
“Give me just one sec-” You’re about to turn away. And then you see it. 
Sukuna had you so entranced with him, had your mind so far away from your body, that you hadn’t even noticed the fact that you had cleanly soaked through your panties on his lap. And there, on that oh-so-comfortable part of his thigh, that had quickly become one of your happy places, was a dark spot on his jeans from your wetness. 
All you could do was stare down at it, mortified. 
Which only has Sukuna following your gaze in momentary curiosity. 
“I-I’M…” You try to catch his attention again with the sound of your voice before his eyes can settle on the new mark, but Sukuna sees it first.
His grin quickly fades and your heart careens into your throat. You feel embarrassment shoot through you like a shot of adrenaline, coloring your already pink face a bright and rosy red. 
The clear solution to the undoubtedly awkward situation is to run, right?
“I’ll be right back-” But you don’t even move an inch before his hand snaps forward and latches onto the front pocket of your (his) hoodie, stopping you in place. 
Your heartbeat thumps in your red-hot ears and you go against every fiber of your being to meet his eyes.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going with my dinner?" The playful lilt of his tone has completely vanished and reveals a deep, dark starvation in its place.
"I work hard for my meals, you know?” 
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hollandsangel · 6 months
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move over | m. sturniolo
okAY here we go this is my first sturniolo fic please be nice to me i am afraid
ps if you’d like to be tagged in any (possible) future fics comment 🍜
summary: matt needs a bigger bed
wc: 1k
warnings: matt x fem!reader, cursing, nightmares? no description really, just funny and fluffy 🫡 all the triplets are in it but reader is dating matt!
..does anyone remember that one video where matt said chris never sleeps in his own bed? well…
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gif by @mattsturnioloarchive !
you feel yourself slipping back into consciousness, and you can tell from the soft, pale blue light of matt’s bedroom that it’s morning. matt’s fast asleep behind you, resting on his stomach with you tucked up into his side, his right arm slung over your waist. you’re already upset that you have to pee, the idea of crawling out of the sleep-warm bed and leaving your boyfriend’s cozy embrace is not an appealing one, but the nagging in your bladder won’t go away.
with a sleepy sigh you stretch your arm out just enough to the tap the screen of your phone, the numbers 8:23 glaring back you. you still don’t have to be up for another hour and a half, which you think is an acceptable amount of time left to lay in matt’s arms and snooze a bit more, even if you don’t really need anymore sleep.
it’s a bit tricky to clamber out of bed without waking the sleeping boy next to you. trying to keep from dragging the duvet with you when you slide out. you tuck matt back in properly before you wander off to his bathroom. softly, you click the door shut, and it, along with your sleep-hazy mind, muffles any sounds coming from outside the bathroom.
for once, chris slept in his own bed, knowing you’d be sleeping over and nick was editing the video meant to go up later this afternoon early into the morning. it’s too early for him to be waking up on his own but something stirs him into wakefulness, his heart beating a little faster than it should be.
matt had woken up for a mere second when you slipped out of bed and hasn’t fallen back into the depth of his sleep, waiting for you to come back. he’s just barley alert enough to hear shuffling from down the hall, getting louder until the person responsible is standing at the crack in the door.
“matt?” chris whispers, peeking into the bedroom.
matt groans and rolls over just until he can see his brother over his shoulder, “what, chris?”
“i had a fucked up dream, dude,” chris says, padding further into the room, “where’s y/n?”
matt turns a little closer to his brother, facing him now, “bathroom,” he mumbles, “what was it about?”
chris is still standing in the middle of the room, phone held loosely in his hand, “you got into a fuckin’ car accident, a really bad one” he admits, feeling a bit foolish and juvenile for running to his brother after a bad dream, “can i sleep in here?”
matt’s face softens and he rubs his eye, “yeah, ‘course.” he says, watching chris slowly walk towards the bed, “that’s her side,” he says though when chris tries to lay where you had been.
chris fakes a scowl and matt makes a face back, sleep still tugging at his mind. the two of them lay back down, back to back, tugging the covers over their shoulders.
you finish washing your hands and shut off the bathroom light. rubbing at your eyes, you make your way back to matt’s room, looking forward to sleeping a bit longer. upon wandering in you’re met with more than one body under the blankets, making you stop in your tracks.
“chris?” you wonder outloud, stopped in the door way.
matt answers before his brother can, “he had a bad dream,” he explains to you, face smushed into the pillow, leaving the words all muffled and extra groggy.
“sure,” you say, as if chris sleeping in matt’s bed doesn’t surprise you (it doesn’t). dragging your feet over to your side of the bed to matt, where he’s taking up a bit too much room. “move over,” you tell him when he peels the blankets back for you. he shuffles back with a little too much effort and you climb back into bed.
once you’re settled matt scoots a little bit closer to you to make more room for the three people now in his queen sized bed, but also because he never passes up an excuse to hold you a little tighter.
you doze in and out, matt’s soft breath against your neck keeping you a little bit dazed but not quite enough to lull you back to sleep fully. it must be nearing 10 am now, more bright sun spilling in from the cracks in the curtains above the bed. you think chris is awake too, hearing breathy little chuckles every now and then. you reach for your phone, deciding on a mindless scroll through instagram.
after a few minutes it sounds like nick has also woken up, his footsteps audible in the bedroom above. you hear him coming down the stairs, and you think he stops in the kitchen until his voice fills the quiet halls.
“chris?” he asks, standing in his brother’s empty bedroom, confused as to why he’s not in bed.
“in here,” chris speaks up, waiting for nick to press the door open.
he does, standing at arms length with a skeptical look on his face, almost afraid of what he might find. “um…hello, what are you doing in here?” nick asks, finally crossing the threshold.
“he had a bad dream,” matt says into your shoulder, startling you. you didn’t know he was awake.
“i had a bad dwream,” chris says in that stupid pouty voice that drives all of you insane, no doubt looking at nick with puppy dog eyes.
“oh…kay,” nick says and you laugh at the suspicion still evident in his tone.
“did you see the tik tok i sent you?” chris is laughing but stops abruptly when matt kicks him in the calf, which makes you giggle into your boyfriend’s arm.
“yeah, but i’m a bit more preoccupied with the absurdity of the three of you in matt’s bed right now,” nick says in his distinct deadpan drawl, which only makes you smile more.
“c’mon nick you might as well join us,” you say, earning a loud, over exaggerated groan from matt, his arms tightening around your waist.
you think nick must oblige because he doesn’t say anything for a second, coming closer to the bed.
“move over, dummy fuck,” he says to chris, who laughs out loud and scoots closer to matt.
“i hate them,” matt whispers in your ear.
tags! @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears
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iceunhie · 2 months
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— PUSH AND PULL : honkai star rail.
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premise. as someone who's always believed in the term “try and try again,” (peak delusion, you know) rooting yourself in their heart has always been your goal, no matter the cold rejections and curt declines you receive. however, even you have your limits; perhaps this little push and pull you two have going isn't worth your time after all... but what happens then, if the chaser becomes the chased? (oh, how the turns have tabled.)
...or, when you play hard to get with them.
— ft. sunday, aventurine, jing yuan.
warnings: angst n fluff, messy messy, these boys are in love but are wayyy too chicken to admit they actually adore you, genderless reader.
a/n. inspired by @/xiaowhore's playing hard to get headcanons! my holy trinity 😇 n MY FAVES RAHHH
NEXT : BACK TO MASTERLIST || ASKBOX
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SUNDAY is perplexed. very much aware of his qualities which enlists him as one of the finer (finest) bachelors of Penacony (he was the Robin's one and only blood, and was also the head of one of the main guiding forces of the Family, after all), sunday isn't sure he's ever come across someone as.... tenacious as you.
foolish, to be more precise, for he cannot for the life of him comprehend exactly why you are the way you are with... him.
no matter his respectful declines of your invitations to promenade around Penacony (re: going on dates), you really didn't know how to leave him be. though he hasn't exactly said he hated it, sunday was, admittedly, rather... affronted. your gifts, in particular, were your loud declarations of your affection (that make his wings flutter more rapidly than he'd like); but sunday was rather inconvenienced at the whole thing.
nonetheless, he does still accept them. reluctantly, mind you. not because he was fond of your constant shower of affections, which seemed so permanent that he began to look forward to them got used to it. to your credit, your gifts were very much to his tastes. (Robin once gave him a rather soul-searching look when he found himself wearing the gloves you gifted, light blue and white in color. he still uses it, just not when his sister is in the vicinity.)
in fact, perhaps he may have gotten too comfortable. little by little, your constant intrusions on his time have thawed a way to his heart; making sunday look forward to your jovial greetings and grandeur elaborations on your day, and such a thing makes him feel scared sunday needed to nip this in the bud, and fast.
so he confronts you, abruptly one day as you give him his newest gift—a jewelry box for his earrings. (surely, the rapid thumping of his heart was due to his irritation at your constant persistence, right?) “i'm afraid this can no longer continue. i am flattered by your... fancy for me, but i do not wish to enter a relationship in the near future.”
the utter silence that follows is torture to him—but he endures. he tries not to look at the momentary flash of hurt on your face. you seemed to quickly recover, though. giving him a simple smile (it didn't reach your eyes. it shocks him how his chest ached at the realization) and shaking your head when he returns the gift to you.
“i understand, mr. sunday.” the formal usage of his name instead of your chipper ‘sunday!’ makes his face twitch. “but please, keep the gift. think of this as my last declaration. it... would do me a great comfort, just this last time, if you accepted it instead.”
(if he had grabbed your hand at that moment as you left for the door, would he regret it?)
when you leave, sunday thought it would put the conflicting feelings in his mind at ease—but it doesn't. a week and two days counting, true to your word, sunday receives no flagrant gifts, nor little messages on his phone that tell him to take care of himself, to eat, and to make sure to remember to check up on Robin.
instead, contrary to the feeling of ease, regret follows him instead.
it's at two weeks and five days counting when sunday could no longer stand the sight of papers that stacked atop his desk and the image of you leaving for the door replaying in his head far too many times for him to count, that he contacts Robin.
and she, once hearing about the situation, gives him a very, very enlightening talk. (of course, not without giving her brother a lecture of the lifetime. part of him felt shame to know that his sister knew of his... turbulent love life, but she was the only one who he could trust, anyway).
“absence makes the heart grow fonder,” she says. “but in your case, brother, your heart has already decided it's course, right?”
sunday eyes the smooth velvet of the jewelry box you gifted, ruminating. his earrings lie there, carefully pristine and beautiful, gold and silver intertwined. he has worn them without fail, clean and spotless. (of course it was. such a design so intricate was only chosen by you. the thought makes his ears warm).
the next days are agonizing. vigor renewed and epiphanies well-spent, sunday spends the rest of his time after finishing his duties researching and painstakingly finding the best jeweller he can find (even employing the suggestions of a certain gambler, much to his dislike), and spending a god awful amount of time revisiting and rechecking which spots you like, which places you enjoy, to the point it comes up in Penacony's headlines that sunday is interested in someone.
surely, it should've reached your ears by now, yes? sunday panics. your preferences are well-accounted for, and he's sure the Bloodhound family members that report to him have to tell you that the person he had in mind was you. even Robin, who was your closest friend, has probably told you already.
it's embarrassing to admit, but; to hell with it, the day he meets you after three weeks and sees you having a pleasant chat with aventurine, of all people, sunday thinks his heart had shattered into little pieces and stabbed themselves into his body. not so much as sparing him a glance, moreso.
so when, finally at his wits end, sunday chooses to corner you at the dewlight pavilion and spills out how he has royally screwed up in the worst way possible, no one is surprised. at this rate, you would be swept up in the charms of that wretched gambler, and what sunday lacked in, aventurine more than made up for.
“wait, don't go to that gambler just yet.” he's breathless, he's chaotic—and something in his heart squeezes when you finally look at him. “i... i wish to take up your time now, if that's possible.” (he wishes he would take up your time forever, really, but that was still too early).
you eye his getup. all of your gifts, lined on the man you spent so long chasing after—you see the gloves you gifted, the tie with not so much as a single crease, and the earrings that shine more brightly in the light of the pavilion. (it suits him. like you) it was as if sunday had completely surrendered himself to you, had all but decided to proclaim that he was yours, and this was nothing short of a plea for you to hear him.
“please.” he says. almost begs. “i can't bear not seeing you anymore. allow me to correct such a damning mistake.”
and if you were skeptical, the way sunday looks at you would dispel any doubt you could ever have. (his wings, they were fluttering.)
(months later, after a nerve-ending confession, many days of dinners, shared gifts involving matching jewelry and promenading to your wishes, it dawns on sunday he was absolutely dancing to your tune. did he regret it, though?
....no, most certainly not.)
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if AVENTURINE were to be honest with himself, he saw you as a useful “friend” rather than a romantic interest. was it bad of him? of a sort. but risk cutting himself open and letting someone he might grow to care for know about all the ugliness that follows his life? no, he's fine as it is, thanks.
the first thing he notices is that you're kind—though he distrusted most of his colleagues and preferred none to get close to him, aventurine, in some morbid moment of curiosity, instead allowed himself to bask in your attention. instead of curtly disparaging you, he flirts back at your compliments (the way your face heated up in return was far too endearing that he can't help but want to kiss you he finds it amusing) and consistently texts you a “did you get home safe” or a “i bought you this because it reminded me of you”; at this point, it was like you two were dating.
was it leading you on? yes, but he supposes it was a win-win; he could send you those tiny bits of validation that was enough for you to stay respectfully at a distance while he probed at your intentions. unlike others who attempt to garner his favor, you're genuine, and you seriously take the time to know him. because you always text back with hearts, always reassure him, tell him to stay safe and wish him luck at every gamble, every high stakes bet he finds himself in. you even complimented his perfume once (and, if he had to be honest, he could not stop thinking about it all day—because that perfume he commissioned exclusively was based off of your own favorite scents and it was extremely embarrassing that he loved hugging you knowing that you loved the way he smelled and that it felt extremely domestic).
(sometimes, he doesn't reply. for months on end. suddenly the golden-haired man you love goes cold and you know then that aventurine ghosts you and then returns when he's in need of a friend—never a lover. it hurts you, but at the very least, you know he cares in his own way.)
and, if aventurine had to be honest, it was killing him from the inside bit by bit. as if to drive the knife deeper, you never danced around what exactly was going on with you two. you never ask why he ghosts you, then sends you a bundle of gifts all of a sudden and then rapidly spends time with you and repeating the cycle. no, you were consistently by his side, so warm and so caring—so unlike him—that aventurine wonders if it's really all right to open his heart to you.
if, by some chance, he actually wanted to be with you, would you treat him even more sweetly than before? aventurine thinks you would—you were beautiful in your entirety, and he was practically undeserving of you. he imagines himself kissing your hand and having you in his arms—and that feels like ice cold water being dumped onto his head, because you could do so much better and yet, why him?
so when aventurine hears about how a certain doctor was visiting you for some unknown reason, his already fragile sense of security in this little will-they, won't they crumbles.
and when he finds out that you were staying over with ratio? something twisted lodges itself in the little brushes of his heart, coiling and coiling—making him feel green. aventurine is aware you and the doctor are good friends, and ratio was the one who even told you to make a move on him! how could he just—suddenly interrupt?!
(was it dramatic? extremely. but knowing his friend and the person he secretly adores might end up together? you can't really blame him.)
he supposes this can be attributed to him. it was an egregious mistake, a blunder aventurine made—he never gave you a clear sight of whether he truly loved you or not and now you're slipping away from him.
so, he does something very unexpected.
at 3:00 AM in the wee early morning hours, aventurine practically barges into one Dr. veritas ratio's home, demanding what the hell was going on between you. and as if he had expected it, his doctor friend merely gives him a shrug in return.
“perhaps they were simply getting fed up by a certain IPC member—who is clearly head over heels in love with them—giving them mixed signals.” ratio's tone is stern, and aventurine definitely knows that the look he gives him is the one he gives only to fools.
you idiot, the doctor seems to say. yeah, yeah, he is; aventurine ignores the clear pinprick at his dignity.
yes, he supposes he is the fool here. “ah.”
“yes, ‘ah,’ indeed. now, let me propose a question.” the purple-haired man says. “will you react in such a way when i tell you that in order for my friend to stop their anguish, i managed to get them to fraternize with one of my colleagues?”
“...what?”
“they will be having a meet-up seven system hours from now.” ratio shrugs. eyes aventurine, who's looking at him like a gaping, stupid fish. “i can only hope that no one would dare to disrupt.”
...it doesn't take him long to be rid of the gambler by then.
(a few hours later, you stop by the Intelligentsia Guild to see one veritas ratio with a smug smile, eyeing the fur coat draped around your shoulders, and the flushed and happy expression written on your face.
“did it work?” he asks.
you laugh, “splendidly.”
indeed, that gambler was a fool, and there's nothing more than dr. ratio loved than to educate such fools to shape.
“that will teach him.”)
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as a quote unquote ‘old man’ who knows that he's well up in his years for a relationship, JING YUAN finds you to be quite amusing.
it doesn't take a detailed analysis to know that you were smitten with him, really. you're a complete open book by his standards—if your heated face and slightly airy voice whenever you were even placed in the same vicinity with the Dozing General was anything to come by. while flattering, he also shares the similar mindset of being too old for any love his way—and he could be mara-struck at any given time, and jing yuan does not wish such a life filled with anguish and pain for the one who may steal his heart. but, worry not, brave suitor of the Arbiter General! unlike the other two above, this man has the experience of millenia, and is open-minded and aware that you truly wish to be perceived as a potential lover.
in fact, jing yuan's recent favorite habit is sneaking off the Seat of Divine Foresight purely to freak you out, watching you scramble up your words, seeing the heat crawl up your nape and bloom all across your face. adorable. you certainly knew how to appeal, that's for sure.
(“heh, it seems i've found a new place to stay in so that the Diviner Fu won't grill me alive when she sees me.”
and when he's rewarded with a bashful and speechless look in return, a smile and your, “i'm glad, general.” it surprisingly lightens up his mood by more than he expected.
that, in turn, gives him a frightening 30% energy boost; fu xuan was utterly shocked to see the languid man actually working and looking like he enjoyed it, for once.
“did something good happen today, jing yuan? why so enthusiastic?”
“i just felt like working more than usual, diviner Fu. i seem to have my energy levels at a high.”)
now, jing yuan is considerate and perceptive first and foremost, so there's a high chance that out of all the men here, he is the most open to giving you the chance to pursue him. he does inform you beforehand that he has no plans of accepting your confessions in the future, and that is where the ‘hard to get’ part comes in.
it's like playing a confusing romance visual novel with a fickle love interest—you never really know what you're doing, whether it's something jing yuan would like or not, and you don't know if he even thinks your attempts are moving his heart. (tldr: he friend zones you).
he maintains the same distance no matter his banters with you, no matter how many times you tell him that you'd help yanqing out with sword lessons. it's like he was just... treating you as he would a friend, and that you were basically stuck in the friend-zone forever.
(he keeps it to himself, but something warm stirs in his chest when he sees yanqing sleeping on your shoulder after training practice, with your arm protectively around the boy's side.
your sleeping face didn't make it easy to look away either; it's one of the few moments in which jing yuan shows just the slightest bit of reciprocating your pursuits; he brushes back the stray hairs covering your face, and drapes a blanket over the two of you.
of course, perhaps to tease yanqing, he also takes the calligraphy brush and makes a work out of his face, doodling all over it.
when you wake up, there's a lingering scent of ink and yellowed paper that fills your senses. when you turn to the boy beside you, you almost giggle out loud.)
it's a little disheartening—and while jing yuan did acknowledge that you were slowly, slowly burrowing yourself in his heart, he doesn't act on it fast enough, and instead lets the realization sit in his mind for a while.
it gets to the point where it feels as though he were preparing to distance himself, and even yanqing had asked if he was well. your visits with the Arbiter General also decrease, as he suddenly buried himself in his work even more than before.
he doesn't get to see you all that much afterwards, despite the lingering feeling of missing you filling his heart.
....that's until jing yuan hears word of a recent mara-struck incident involving the Sky-faring Commission; with your name listed among those heavily injured.
when he visits Bailu's clinic after yanqing urges him, jing yuan takes in the sight of you, littered in injuries from head to toe. your life, about to snap. he never even told you that you won; you did manage to steal his heart and for the first time in a long time, jing yuan allows himself to love.
so if, after three weeks later when you're finally healed up and ready to go, jing yuan brings you into his arms and drags you to let him sleep in your lap, you can't really blame him now, can you?
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a/n: i love yearner hsr men,,, might do a pt 2 though. thinking of mayb ratio, jiaoqiu and f/heng next time...... sighs dreamily
@ ICEUNHIE: do not repost translate or plagiarize my works.
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ghostsangel · 3 days
Note
Please please please can I get Ghost being so unhealthy obsessed with a girl who insists she can do everything herself. No she doesn't need help with the gear, nobody ever helped her before. Want to spot her? Fuck off. She's not lifting more than she can handle. She won't take help from anyone and it pisses Ghost off.
Secretly she's just scared of being vulnerable, so when Ghost manages to wrangle her into a situation where all she can do is accept his care (and his dick) he gives her all the treatment she's secretly craved.
omg this is an amazing concept.
simon “ghost” riley x fem!reader
warnings/tags: mdni, smut as fuck, reader is so stubborn it’s insane, ghost is obsessed, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), creampie, squirting
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Ghost truly doesn’t understand you.
He’s stubborn, but you may be the most stubborn person he’s ever met. The first time he offered to help you was with your gear the first day on base—you snatched it from his hands so fast his head spun, scowling at him and telling him you could handle it just fine. It’s hard to shock Ghost, but you did, and he was intrigued.
Ever since that day, he’s watched you. It’s almost unhealthy the way his eyes gravitate toward you in a room. It’s almost like you won’t accept help from anyone just to piss people off—like you have a point to prove.
Today is no different. His muscles strain under the weight of the dumbbells he’s lifting, his eyes flicking over to you. You’re on your back, lifting a pair of weights, your lips pursed as you concentrate.
Ghost almost smiles when he watches a new recruit waltz over to the bar and try to spot you.
“I can do it myself—I don’t need a spot,” you hiss out, giving the recruit such a poisonous glare he scurries off without another word.
Ghost sighs, setting down his weights and looking down at you. “He was just tryin’ to help.”
“Don’t need help,” you mutter, eyes flicking to him as you set the bar down. “I’m a grown woman.”
“Just ‘cause you’re grown doesn’t mean you can’t choke yourself with the bar.” Ghost scowls at you under his mask.
You roll your eyes, sitting up and wiping your sweaty neck with a towel. “Fuck off. Haven’t ever had a spot before, and I sure as hell don’t need one now.”
“Stubborn,” Ghost mutters under his breath, watching the way your lips press together in a thin line.
You leave quickly after that, and Ghost can’t help but feel slightly annoyed with you. He understands being stubborn—hell, he’s stubborn. But he accepts help when he needs it. He knows his limits. You, on the other hand, have never accepted help. Well, not that he’s seen.
A few days later, the two of you are paired on a mission. It’s a simple objective—infiltrate the warehouse, get the intel. You’re silent as you hold your gun by your side, peeking around a corner. Ghost squats behind you, waiting for the all clear so you could take out the guards.
You nod at him, and the two of you move forward, shooting at the few guards on the warehouse. What you don’t expect are shots fired from the left of you, a bullet grazing your arm. Ghost grips the back of your uniform shirt to pull you behind a stack of crates, quickly shooting the figure and kneeling beside you.
“You okay?” He asks, eyes searching the bleeding scrape the bullet caused.
You stand, glaring at him. “I’m fine. I had it handled, Ghost. Could’ve taken him out myself.”
Annoyance and anger run through Ghost, his eyes narrowing. “I saw you get shot and reacted quicker than you. That’s why I’m the Lieutenant, and you’re not.”
Your nostrils flare, but you say nothing else before you check if it’s clear before heading to the warehouse. You and Ghost are in and out faster than you think is possible, and completely silent on the heli ride back to base. You grip your gun, posture stiff as you sit next to your Lieutenant. Ghost glances at you and sighs, wanting to speak but not wanting to cause a scene in front of the others.
The heli touches down and you leave before Ghost can get a word in edgewise. He watches you go and shakes his head before heading to Price to debrief and give him the intel.
A hot shower is next—something Ghost needs. He strips, taking the mask off and glancing at himself in the mirror. His eyes rake over his scars—jagged, white lines across his skin from torture, blending in with the circular burns from his father’s cigarettes.
Swallowing, he showers, thinking of you the entire time. You infuriate him, but god—does he want you. Yeah, you’re stubborn and you piss him off, but he’s so enamored with you that he can’t help but fantasize about you every waking moment.
He spends the shower trying to avoid touching his hardening cock to the thought of you, instead taking the time to wash every inch of dirt off him before rinsing and getting out. He dresses casually—black sweats, black tank top, black surgical mask. His baclava and mask are too fuckin’ sweaty to put back on.
He tugs on his boots before heading to the mess hall, bumping straight into you. He looks down at you, watching your eyes harden. The bullet wound is still bloody—you haven’t cleaned it.
“Lieutenant,” you stiffly say.
Ghost tilts his head. “You okay? How’s the arm?”
“Fine. Nothing I can’t handle, Lieutenant.”
His eyes narrow, nostrils flaring beneath the surgical mask. “Have I done something to offend you?”
You roll your eyes, crossing your arms in front of you. “Other than save me when I didn’t need saving, yeah.”
Ghost has had enough. He grips your uninjured arm and tugs you inside his room, lips pressed to a thin line. You stumble inside, and he shuts the door behind him, crossing his arms in front of you.
“What the fuck is your issue?” He asks, voice gruff as he glares down at you.
“My problem? I don’t have a fucking problem,” you reply, heart thudding in your chest as you look up at him.
He shakes his head, taking a step closer to you. “You do. You don’t let anyone help you—even if they have good intentions. I took action today to save your life and you’re mad at me for it.”
You say nothing, just look up at him, eyes wary. He looks down at you, eyes flicking to the blood on your arm. “Sit down.”
“I can—”
“That’s an order.”
You huff before sitting down at a chair in front of his desk. He mutters to himself as he digs through his drawers, pulling out an alcohol wipe and a bandage for the wound.
He kneels in front of you, ripping the alcohol wipe open and discarding the trash on his desk. He begins to swipe at your arm, and you wince at the sting.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, eyes flicking up to yours.
“It’s okay,” you mutter back, holding still so he can work. “I’m sorry.”
The words seem incredibly hard for you to say, and surprise flashes in Ghost’s eyes as he tosses the alcohol wipe to the side. He says nothing, just undoing the bandage and wrapping it around your arm.
You clear your throat, inhaling deeply. “I…would rather do everything myself. It’s, uh…sort of like a guard.”
Ghost nods, tying the bandage in place before dropping his hands to his sides. “A guard.”
“Vulnerability scares me.”
His eyes search yours, head tilting to the side as he assesses you. “So that’s why you do everything yourself?”
“It’s not that I want to. I have to. I’m just…scared of opening up to someone.” You bite down on your bottom lip, and twiddle your fingers. “That’s why I don’t get close to people.”
“We’re pretty close right now, don’t ya think?” Ghost asks, smirking at you through the surgical mask.
You roll your eyes, a playful smile on your face. “Shut up.”
He doesn’t miss the way your cheeks heat, and he leans forward, hands resting on either side of the chair. “Don’t you secretly crave for something more?” His voice is deep, gruff.
You squeeze your thighs together, eyes never leaving his. “Maybe.”
Ghost uses his hands to spread your thighs, fitting his body between them. His lips ghost over your neck, mask pulled down, and your breath hitches in your throat.
“Ghost,” you murmur, your fingers squeezing the fabric of his tank top.
“Shut up and let me take care of you,” he grumbles before his lips meet yours.
The kiss is slow and sensual, and a moan slips past your lips as his tongue slides against yours. Your hands move up his chest to his neck, pulling him closer to you, your legs hitched around his waist.
His large hands slip down underneath your shirt, the touch of his fingertips tingling your sides as they travel up.
His lips move to your jaw, skimming down your neck and sucking at the skin. Slowly, his fingertips travel to your covered pussy, rubbing your clit in slow circles through the fabric of your pants.
You gasp, the sound music to Ghost’s ears as he smirks against your neck. Heat flares in your stomach, traveling to your core, and you can’t help but spread your legs, offering yourself to him.
He takes his time, tugging your pants down, taking off your shirt. Removing every article of clothing until you’re bare in front of him. His eyes take you in, his cock already chubbing up in his pants as he admires your naked body.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he grunts, spreading your legs with his large hands. You’re dripping, your pretty slit soaked with your juices and dampening your thighs.
He holds eye contact with you before his tongue flicks out, licking a fat strip up your pussy and sucking your clit into his mouth. He’s slow—taking his time with you. His tongue lazily strokes your clit, flicking and running around it.
You look at him, eyes half-lidded, hand on the back of his head. He groans into your cunt, the taste like heaven on his tongue. Your back arches, moans and whines slipping past your lips as he takes care of you.
You almost don’t notice when his middle and ring fingers tease the entrance of your pussy, and you buck your hips up at the sensation. Ghost laughs softly against your clit, sucking it into his mouth and flicking his tongue against it before his fingers push inside of your pussy.
You’re tight, and he lets out a grunt as he feels your gummy walls try to accommodate his thick fingers. He curls them and feels that little spongy spot that makes your toes curl, and your hips jolt, a lewd moan ripping from your throat.
“That’s it, yeah?” He murmurs, tongue running around your clit. “Feels good, doesn’t it, doll?”
“Yes,” you groan, his fingers beginning to thrust in and out of your tight hole.
Ghost focuses on your clit, picking up speed and licking your clit in fat strides. Your eyes roll back, head tilted back at the pleasure. It won’t take you long to come—it’s been a long time since anyone’s given you this treatment.
You clench around him, and he chuckles against your pussy, fingers working quicker. He isn’t moving them in and out, just thrusting them up and down against your spongy walls.
“Clenchin’ around my fingers so tight, doll,” he says, moving his fingers faster. “Come for me. Give it to me.”
His words push you over the edge and your pussy flutters as you squirt, your release costing his hand and wrist. He lets out a moan, flicking your clit and licking up everything you give him.
“That’s it, good fuckin’ girl.”
You pant, legs trembling as he removes his fingers from your cunt. He works at his own pants, tugging them down and revealing his heavy cock, hard and fat, his balls hanging heavy. He picks you up like you weigh nothing, pushing you against the wall and pushing his cock inside of you.
He gazes into your eyes, groaning as his fat cock stretches you out. Your nails dig into his neck, clenching tightly around him as he buries himself inside you.
“Fuck,” you whine, rolling your hips down so his tip nestles nicely against your cervix.
“Gonna take me so good aren’t you, sweetheart?” Ghost breathes out, beginning to fuck you against the wall.
You can feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he fucks you, your pussy squelching lewdly as one of his hands settles around your throat. You let out a whine in response, his cock brushing against your g-spot and making you see stars.
No one has ever fucked you like this—hard, fast, and attentive. Ghost knows exactly what he’s doing—he’s an expert. A particularly deep thrust steals the breath from your lungs and you let out a moan, clenching around him.
“Fuck, relax, sweetheart. Gonna make me fill this cunt up if you squeeze me like that,” he mutters, gazing into your eyes.
You grin at him, mouth hanging open as he fucks you deep. Your orgasm is already building, an inevitable force from the way he’s taking care of you. You claw at his neck, and he squeezes your throat as he ruts up into you.
“Go on, doll. Come for me. Milk my cock.”
The words make your legs tremble around his hips and your back arches as you come, cunt throbbing tightly around him, juices dripping down his cock onto his heavy balls. His eyes flutter shut and he lets out a long groan, burying his face in your neck as he fucks you harder through your orgasm.
“Want me to fill this pretty cunt up? Hm?” He murmurs, kissing your neck as he fucks you. “Want me to fill you up till it’s dripping down your thighs?”
You moan out a yes, and you feel Ghost’s cock twitch inside of your pussy. He bites down on your shoulder as his hips stutter once, twice—then he’s burying himself inside your pussy, cock throbbing and balls drawing up as he shoots load after load inside of you.
“God, so fuckin’ good,” he pants out, breathing against your neck as he holds you against the wall, cock still buried inside you.
Raising his head, he grins at you. You smile back, eyes searching his.
“Come on, love. Let me clean you up and we can have a cuddle,” he says, gently lowering you to the ground as his cock slips out of you. He has to force himself not to get hard when he sees his seed dripping down your thighs.
“I can—” You start to object.
Ghost tugs you to him. “Shut it. Didn’t you learn anything from what we just did?”
2K notes · View notes
tojisun · 4 months
Note
you’ve just given me a thought
Reader sitting on Johnnys face with Simon fucking him. Johnnys pushing reader down harder on his face, all pussy drunk, smothered in her and it gets to a point where Simon has to physically pull reader off of Johnny just to let him breath because he wasn’t gonna do it himself and certainly wasn’t going to let reader go. He’s all flushed and breathing heavy getting air back in his lungs, face covered in squirt 🫣
oh lord i may have died and ascended-
and the way johnny’s got a vice grip on your thighs or on the dip of your hips, pushing you down on his face, either to muffle his moans on the hot press of your skin because simon’s fucking him so good, hitting his prostate so well, or to lick up at your pussy because it is so wet and warm, and your slick is so delicious, he can’t help but gulp it down because he wants more—
“joh-nny,” you hiccup, his name slipping from your gritted teeth in a slurred hiss. “stop! stop, please!”
it’s too much, too fast, and johnny’s frantic movements are only making you anxious. you can’t even feel his breath against your cunt anymore, and you tremble, wide-eyed as the cold wash of worry mixes with your desires.
you fist at his hair, trying to pry him off your cunt so you can get to your knees for a second, but your squirming just makes johnny grip your body harder. he digs his tongue in deeper, and you let out a drawled-out whine at the drag of his nose against your hardened clit.
“simon!” you sob, your breaths hitching as you tremble. “make’im stop! simon, make’im—”
“fuckin’ hell,” simon murmurs, breathless himself, his voice a rich timbre from somewhere close behind you. you feel his arms wrap around your chest before he pulls you towards him.
you lazily topple off johnny’s face and into simon’s space, your back pressed flush against his chest. you tip your head down, feeling the way simon does the same, and you two watch as johnny catches his breath.
he is flushed oh-so beautifully, his nose all flared as he gulps down air. his face is wet, messy with your slick, and you watch, with a silent gasp, johnny poke his tongue out to lave at his glistening lips, tasting the remnants of your euphoria.
you jump when you feel simon buck his body forward, jostling you and johnny together. johnny hisses, his face crumpling in his pleasure, and—
“oh,” you say, reaching down to stuff yourself with your fingers. “si, do tha’ again, please?”
simon hooks his chin on your shoulder, grunting in his own bliss when he pulls out, slow like he is deliberate in teasing johnny, only to punch his cock back in johnny. you three share a moan.
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nanaslutt · 7 months
Text
ʚ nsfw under the cut,, minors and ageless blogs dni
Thinking about Gojo getting you two matching Bluetooth vibrators for Valentine’s day....
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
Gojo’s body jerked forward when you upped the intensity of the toy from the little remote in your pocket. The man behind the counter was turned around, pointing at some specialty dessert as he explained it, so he unfortunately missed the way Gojo’s jaw fell open in a silent moan before he corrected himself.
His jaw muscles clenched under the weight of his teeth, his eyes briefly rolling back in his head as the tight cockring vibrated intensely around his sensitive shaft, vibrating his balls along with it.
Turning his head to the side inconspicuously, Gojo gave you a malicious smile, silently cursing at you before he stuck his own hand into his pocket and gave you the same treatment.
Luckily there was no one behind you, so they were unable to see the way you fell against Gojo, your inner thighs pressing together as you gripped harshly onto the sleeve of his expensive jacket, wrinkling the material. You could feel the small bullet vibe shaking against your walls as well as the flat piece stimulating your clit, pressing firmly against it. 
“I-“ Gojo cleared his throat before he finished speaking, noticing how hoarse and unused it sounded. “I’ll take that one, and the brown sugar boba milk t-tea.” Gojo smiled politely, his muscles flexing under your arm.
You gripped him harder, praying he would take mercy on you and order for you with the state you were in. 
Unfortunately for you, Gojo was at his limit as well. He was worried if he tried to speak for you he would cum in his pants before he even finished ordering. "What about you baby?" He asked, looking down at you, trying to turn his head as far to the side in your direction and away from the cashier as possible. This fucking asshole.
Swallowing hard, you went to open your mouth when you shut it just as fast. Gojo had started to slide the intensity up and down, up and down in a wave-like motion, making you feel weak in the knees. Biting your lip as inconspicuously as possible, you stuck your hand out in front of you and waved it, dismissing the attention on yourself by feigning like you didnt want anything.
Gojo smiled to himself when you started repeatedly tapping agaisnt his arm, silently begging him to turn down the vibrator as he took out his wallet to pay. Wanting to show you could be could, you turned him down as well, which made his body visibly relax.
Gojo cracked his neck to the side before he tapped his card quickly and shoved his card back into the sleeve before he turned the intensity of your own vibrator down, to match your energy. Gojo grimaced when he felt a fat bead of pre-cum spill out from his cock, undoubtedly staining the inside of his boxers even more. The softer intensity was arguably more painful and hard to endure than the faster one. The soft, barely there vibrations made his cock throb, begging for more.
After waving thanks to the worker, Gojo turned the two of you around and walked you over a few steps to the side of the building, letting you lean back against it. You took the opportunity to squeeze his arm hard, your lip trembling as you turned your face away from the street and buried it in his arm. "Satoru take me home right now." You begged your hands shaking as you gripped onto him, your legs matching.
Gojo looked down at you and cooed before biting his lip. Caressing the side of your face Gojo made you look up at him, his blue eyes finding yours from under his dark shades. "You sure? Seems like you were havin' fun teasing me back there. Almost came in my pants in front of that poor guy." He joked, his cock throbbing at your pathetic and desperate face.
"Toru, please. Please take me home right now I- I can't stand anymore." You begged the fabric wrinkling under your fingers more. With a soft kiss to the top of your head, you were lifted into Gojo's arms in a princess carry as he started off in the direction of the nearest alleyway so he could teleport the two of you home without being seen. "You can dish it but you can't take it huh princess? Did I play with you too much?" Gojo whispered as he strolled down the sidewalk. 
You nodded into the crook of his neck, ignoring his irritating words. "Don't worry baby, I'll fuck you nice and good when we get home." He reassured you, making you whimper in response before Gojo turned abruptly and walked into the dark shade of the alleyway. He leaned his face close to yours before he added, "But the vibrator is staying inside."
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cassidyandonlycassidy · 2 months
Text
breaking point
tyler owens (twisters) x reader
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words: 1.6k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, female receiving oral, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions of past hookups, love declarations (bc i have to make all my fics at least a little fluffy)
the legendary tornado wrangler won't get on his knees for just anybody. it's a position of vulnerability, especially as his head tips forward, exposing his throat.
but you're not a predator in this moment, not with your thighs spread apart and he's smiling up at you with that shit eating grin you know all to well.
“whatever, you win.” you sigh. “just eat me out.”
“that wasn't what the bet was.” tyler says with a chuckle. “whoever breaks first doesn't get to cum.”
it was a dumb and pointless bet, but one that was needed to remind both of you that you didn't in fact completely lack control and could handle being around each other without finding somewhere to hole up and fuck, leaving rest of the crew waiting for you to finish up.
“come on, ty.” you pout, putting on your best pleading face. “i know you wanna taste me too.”
“you got me there.” you watch as tylers pink tongue darts out to lick his lips. “of course i could always eat you out without letting you cum.”
“we somehow managed three whole days of teasing each other without getting an orgasm. you're really gonna deny me of that?” you pout.
“we'll see.” tyler hums, his eyes dropping to your pussy, spread open and put on display as you're sat perched on the edge of the bed.
you're about to open your mouth to give another snarky response, or beg and plead if you have to, whatever you need to get tylers mouth on you when he suddenly surges forward, hands pressing your thighs even further apart.
his tongue swipes through your folds, over and over in quick succession, tasting every inch of you that he can while dutifully ignoring your clit, not giving you that pleasure just yet. you hope that's his only punishment for giving in.
“god, ty.” you moan, head tipping back as one of your hands comes to the back of his head, pushing his face even further against your pussy.
“so fucking delicious.” tyler moans, his words vibrating against your wet skin.
tyler can only tease for so long, soon his mouth moves to find your clit, circling around the sensitive bud before sucking it between his lips as you shout out.
he gives you no time to adjust to the sudden pressure, knowing you've been without it for longer than he'd like, but he's still not ready to just let you get away with losing your bet.
“god, baby.” you let yourself fall backwards onto the bed, giving up looking tyler in the eye as you continuously moan so loud you wouldn't be surprised if the people in the motel room next to you came knocking on your door to complain.
tyler grabs your thighs, keeping them pulled apart as he eats you out, greedily slurping your juices, the wet sounds filling the room.
“keep going.” you plead, hips raising up and down, grinding yourself against his face.
tyler gives up holding your thighs open with both hands, moving his finger to your entrance, pressing against it as he wets his digit until he's able to push into you as you let out a gasp.
his fingertip is rough against your walls as he keeps his finger pushed inside, continuing to pay attention to your clit while you adjust.
“more, ty, please.” you whine, squeezing your pussy around his digit, knowing how much that usually entices him and gets him moving along, but not today, not when you have a punishment to receive.
tylers mouth softens, making you let out an excruciating high as your previously building high slows back down, breath coming hot and fast as he begins to pump his finger in and out of you, a slow steady motion that has your hips wiggling.
“stay still or you definitely won't come.” tyler commands, squeezing at your thigh, giving you a light warning.
“fine.” you huff, deciding to try and focus on the feeling of his finger pushing out of you. it's not hard or fast enough to really send you over the edge, until suddenly a second finger is pushed inside of you.
“tyler, i can't.” you beg, resorting to using his full name.
he completely ignores you, used to your whines and begs and pleads that he always eventually gives into. you'll just finish up helping out a town hit by a tornado only to try and convince him to ditch the motel room you rented for the night and just hit up the first place he can fuck you in.
neither of you really saw it as a problem until you accidentally traumatized boone when he went to grab something out of the truck only to find you two in the backseat, thankfully still mostly clothed.
your hips rise up, unable to control them but tyler knows exactly what it signifies, able to read your body as good as his own as his mouth rips away from you, knowing that his fingers inside of you isn't enough to make you cum without some sort of attention to your clit.
“stop! please keep going!” you scream out, not caring that your begging doesn't make sense as your pussy pulsates around his fingers, desperate for an orgasm.
“you'll get to cum tonight.” tyler says, watching you let out a breath of relief as you were starting to worry he would stick to the beg wouldn't let you at all. “but itll be with me inside of you. and im not done playing with you yet.”
you can't even argue as his mouth pecks at your clit, licking his lips every time he kisses your skin.
his fingers move in a fury, surely imagining it was his cock buried inside of you considering he's been without it for too long. you can hardly wait to feel him properly inside of you, having been relentlessly teased, knowing he tugged his jeans a bit lower on his hips often just to give you a view of the muscular lines leading underneath his belt.
“ty…” you sigh out, back arching off the bed, wondering briefly how many hotel rooms you've fucked in, if you've reached every county in oklahoma and arkansas. 
“yeah, i know. i need you too baby.” tyler gives your clit one last hearty suck before he stands. already shirtless from when he sensually stripped to successfully get you to break first.
you sit up quickly, hands pushing his out of the way to undo his belt buckle and push his jeans down along with his underwear all in one go.
his cock springs up, having been hard and pushing against his zipper since entering the hotel room with you, knowing he'd either break or get you to break.
“lay back.” tyler says, his eyes lowering and darkening seeing your hands so close to his cock.
you move up the bed but instead of laying on your back, you flip onto your stomach and spread your legs.
“oh, like that?” you can hear the amusement in tylers voice as the bed dips as he crawls on top of it, draping himself over your body.
you think he's going to give you a minute, maybe kiss your shoulder blades and rub his cock through your folds, but his head presses against your entrance, and his length is entering you so suddenly you can't help but scream out.
“shit.” tyler cusses, pushing the rest of the way into you. he wastes no time picking up speed, deciding he's teased you long enough.
“god, ty!” you squeal, hands gripping into the sheets as you keep your thighs spread despite the force being applied, his hips slamming forward without control, needing to wreck you, needing to take you and stake his claim on your body again.
“you're so fucking-” tyler lets out a growl, dropping his head as he puts more weight on you. “you're so fucking warm and wet, baby. can't wait to fill you up.”
you haven't used condoms in forever. you began hooking up with tyler and quickly got on birth control so he could cum inside you like you so desired. the first time having you raw, he didn't even last five minutes. 
“fuck me- fuck me harder.” you squeal. “come on, give it to me, ty.”
you can feel the switch in his body. when his powerful muscles stop holding back, slamming full force into you, knowing you can take it, the one girl he's been able to find that can handle anything he throws at.
“i love you.” tyler whispers so quietly your ears barely pick up his words.
you flip over quickly, his cock only away from you for a moment before hes fucking you again, now looking into your eyes.
“i love you too, ty.” you haven't said it before. maybe it's just in the heat of the moment, but you don't think you'll regret it later.
tyler kisses you deeply, glad you both share the feelings beyond just hooking up, knowing things will change but feeling nothing but excitement for what waking up tomorrow will look like as tyler thrusts into you.
his cock swells inside of you, the tell tale sign that hes going to cum. you quickly move a hand down your torso to rub your clit, and all it takes is tylers lips against yours and his cum releasing inside of you for you to suddenly cum as well.
you moan into each other's mouths, a mix of curses and each other's names as tyler fucks you through your highs, feeling your body shake underneath his as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and tug him into you, feeling your sensitive nipples rub against his chest.
“god, that was good.” you giggle, breathing deeply in time with tyler as he keeps his softening cock inside of you, not ready to separate yet when your bodies are so perfectly aligned.
“we are never going that long without making love again.” tyler says, pressing a kiss to your forehead, but it doesn't distract from the wording he chose as you smile up at him.
“never.” you vow.
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kurooh · 3 months
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FAST N FURIOUS ! — JUJUTSU KAISEN
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⊹₊˚. what kind of car sex does he like to have? maybe on the hood of the car, in the backseat, or while he’s driving?
⟡ feat. gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji, kamo choso.
⟡ warnings: 18+ content (mdni), f! reader, semi-public sex, sexual activities involving vehicles, squirting, oral [f&m giving/receiving], dirty talk.
⟡ xoxo, juno: thank you for 2k!! <3 btw gojo gets hard as a rock if you suck on his fingers
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— GOJO SATORU.
“just enjoy yourself, pretty girl..” satoru whispers, lightly pinching one of your asscheeks as his cock pistons in and out of you wetly. “mmmh, i’ve been wanting to fuck you all over this car since the day we met.”
your puffy pussy squeezes down on his cock tightly, and he groans, eyes rolling back as his hips still momentarily. “been wanting you to, satoru.. i-i love it when you fuck me deep like this, don’t stop, please!” you wiggle your ass against his pelvis, and he inhales sharply as he starts up the same pace again. the tempo is brutal, hungry, sloppy with all the wild need behind it.
the white hood of satoru’s car gleams in the moonlight, the only car in the vacant grocery store parking lot. you’re bent right over the hood, nipples pebbled from the cold, smooth surface and friction of your body sliding forward with each of his frenzied thrusts.
satoru had just returned from a two week business trip on the other side of the country, and you’d been awaiting his return, eager to be with him and needy for all he had to give you. today, he had been too tired to do much, so you went out and had a little dinner in the car before driving through the almost empty city.
under the cover of darkness, one kiss had led to another, causing you and satoru to end up disheveled in the backseat before he was opening the doors of his car and pulling you right outside. then you were being bent over the hood and he was inside you.
your hips bang against the side of the car as he carelessly thrusts against you, cock slamming deep and leaking so much precum you feel it dripping from your hole and collecting at your clit before falling to the asphalt below.
“g-god, nghhh— i’m gonna fucking cum, baby.” satoru’s growing frantic as he pushes closer and closer to the edge. his thighs are trembling, pressed against the backs of your own, and he absolutely does not know where to put himself.
“w-where do you want it?” he gasps, voice ragged as blue eyes squeeze shut. just the sound of his needy moans and sensation of his thickening cock has your tight hole clamping down on him as your arms collapse beneath you and you fall against the hood.
“e-everywhere, satoru!” you demand, whining loudly. your mind’s too jumbled to specify where, all fucked out on his thick cock.
satoru pulls out, gritting his teeth as he aims his cock over you and shoots globs of sticky cum all over your asscheeks and lower back. “damn, you look so fucking amazing like this,” he grunts, finally catching his breath as the last droplet of cum rolls down the length of his cock.
“toru, wanna lick it up,” you turn your head, pupils blown and tits bouncing ever so slightly. the tone of your voice is velvety and unashamed, which has him swiping his fingers over your skin and lifting them towards your mouth. your plush lips wrap around his wet fingers, and you moan lowly as you greedily swallow all the cum from his skin, sucking lightly. when satoru yanks your hair to get your attention, you look up with innocent eyes, noticing his creased brow and flushed cheeks.
“o-okay, princess. don’t get me hard again, fuck.”
— GETO SUGURU.
“i don’t care, babygirl,” suguru murmurs, voice hushed against your inner thighs. “seats are waterproof, did it myself.”
“i-i don’t wanna mess up your car, suguru,” you grit your teeth, sounding distressed at the thought of him not eating you out and also because you’re worried about soaking the leather.
“trust me, sweetheart. just relax, and enjoy yourself.” suguru’s reassurance has your limbs loosening, once racing mind finally slowing down. his large fingers push inside you, and all you can do is whine his name.
sometimes, on occasion, when he would eat you out, you’d squirt all over the place. when he’d practically ripped off your shorts and panties after you’d been fooling around together in the backseat, you realized what could happen. his seats are leather, in pristine condition. you wouldn’t want to destroy them by squirting all over, right?
“squirt all over me, and the car.” suguru demands, lightly slapping your fluttering pussy.
you moan, pushing a hand into his unbound hair and pulling as you push his face into your pussy. your heart’s pounding in your ears when he moans into you, fingers curling deep as he sucks your clit roughly.
“sugu, harder!”
suguru obliges, scalp tingling from how hard you’re yanking on his hair. his free hand rests on your thigh, tensing slightly as he keeps your trembling legs open.
the car is warm, and you feel dizzy as your orgasm builds beneath his harsh tongue. your tits jolt when your back straightens, white hot pleasure zapping through you like lightning. suguru stops curling his fingers against your g-spot, and starts to scissor them in and out of you.
“suguru!” you squeal above the squelching, wet sounds of your fluttering pussy, “mmmh, i think ‘m gonna—”
“do it for me, baby,” suguru groans, looking up at you from where he’s positioned himself at your pussy.
all you can do is moan, head falling back when the tension and pressure inside you finally reaches its limit. liquid gushes out of you, spraying all over suguru’s face and dampening his hair, along with the leather of the seats around you.
your chest heaves as your eyes open, gasping at the sight before you. your boyfriend and his seats are covered in your squirt, and he’s leaning towards your pussy again to lick up the mess.
“mm mm,” he forces your legs open when you try to close them in an effort to deter overstimulation, “you’re gonna do that for me again, sweetheart.”
— NANAMI KENTO.
“ken— kento!” you wail as he tosses your legs to the sides, opting to jerk his hips up into you after you said you were getting tired.
“shh, it’s okay, angel. i’ll fuck you till you fall asleep on the ride home.”
you and kento had been driving back from a dinner date across the city when his hand on your thigh slipped beneath your skirt. he was driving, and rubbing your clit until you were squirming and cumming in your panties.
“oh, don’t stop!” your chest heaves, mouth falling open in shock at the rush of overwhelming pleasure coursing through each and every one of your veins. your mind and thoughts are entirely jumbled, centered around kento only: his heavy breaths, the way he feels inside you, his body, his face, twisted in pleasure..
“fill me up ‘nd make me yours,” tears flow down your face after a few particularly hard thrusts into the deepest places inside of you.
“i absolutely will, angel,” kento grunts, his voice raspy as he arches beneath you, hands flying to your hips to keep you in place on his cock.
beads of sweat roll down his temples as he looks up at you, breathless at the sight of your beautiful face. you don’t even notice, too enraptured by his thick cock head punching into your g-spot.
“ngh, cumming.” he can barely choke out anything else as his spine straightens and his hot cum pours inside of you. you’re breathless as you pull his sensitive cock from your hole, positioning yourself on your hands and knees.
“angel?” kento sits up slowly, disappointed he’s no longer inside you. “what’re you thinking?”
“jus’ want a taste, ken.” and with that you’re licking his cum and your wetness from his cock, and he finds it so nasty yet so fucking sexy at the same time.
— FUSHIGURO TOJI.
“already told you to take it deep, princess. don’t make me help you, i’m fuckin’ driving.” toji grunts, both hands white knuckled on the wheel as you choke on his cock, taking it deeper into your throat.
spit drips down the small bit of his length that you can’t fully fit into your mouth, pooling at the base before further trickling to his balls. you feel the car speed up when his big palm lands on top of your head, and he pushes down slightly.
“this ‘s how i want you suckin’ my cock,” toji hisses, briefly yet harshly slamming you up and down on his lap. you gag, spit bubbling from the corners of your mouth and pouring onto him.
you try to nod in understanding but he pushes you all the way to his base until you whimper out a “yes, toji.” using your mouth like this after you’d mouthed off to him all day is just too fucking good, he thinks, smirking faintly as he looks out at the road.
like a good girl, you suck him exactly the way he showed you, gripping the arm rest for support as you bob your head on him. toji’s thighs tense, and the car speeds up further.
“take it just like that, doll..” he rasps before chuckling, “shit, nghh, i’m gonna have to pull over.”
before he can even finish what he’s saying the signal’s on and he’s cutting across a few lanes, rushing to pull over before he ends up explaining to the insurance company that he was getting a blowjob while driving. behind you, other vehicles honk loudly, tires scraping to a halt as this asshole finally makes it to the side to pull over, wheels hitting the curb.
the jolt of the car has you gagging, his cock going down your throat. toji’s fingers slip into your hair, twisting it as he drags you up and down his cock mercilessly. tears pour down your cheeks as you look up at him; his face is scrunched in pleasure, free hand gripping the door.
“swallow it all,” is all he can get out as hot cum shoots out of his cock, filling your throat. when he feels your throat squeezing him as you swallow, his deeper groans start to get just a little higher.
toji doesn’t let you pull away until his cock is throbbing with overstimulation, and you’re both thoroughly fucked out. he exhales before sucking in a breath, sounding exhausted. but he turns towards you, arching a brow as a smirk finds its way onto his face.
“get in the backseat, doll. gotta show you how much of a good girl you’ve been.”
— KAMO CHOSO.
“oh god, oh god— your pussy feels so fucking good!” choso babbles, hips snapping into you as your name falls from his lips over and over again.
the fingerprints on the car window smear as your hands slide down the glass, fingers curling into your palms. tears well in your eyes, close to spilling down your face; it’s too much and not enough.
“choso,” you murmur, cheeks burning with heat as you decide to experiment with some dirty talk. “y-your cock’s perfect for me, baby.”
the brunet whines loudly, blood pounding in his ears as he desperately fucks you, ready to fill up your perfect pussy. sometimes, choso feels like it’s his, but he’s too shy to even ask you or tell you it’s his. instead, he opts to say something a little simpler, fucking you faster and deeper to spur himself on.
“fuckkk.. you’re mine, aren’t you?” he means to sound domineering and strong, but he just sounds needy and in need of some affirmation. luckily, you don’t hear him too clearly.
“what was that, cho?” you bite down on your lower lip, hoping to silence your own sounds to hear him better this time.
a switch flips and choso’s mumbling your name, wrapping an arm around your middle as his muscled chest presses into your back firmly. his hand slides towards your throat, gripping slightly as he groans into your ear.
“i said you’re mine,” a harsh nip to your shoulder has you crying out and shaking beneath him, gripping onto the car door tightly as your pussy squeezes down on him.
choso recognizes the signs of an impending orgasm, drawing his hips back and slamming forwards deeply, heavy balls smacking into your clit. “c-cum on me, baby..” he whispers, barely holding it together.
your knees nearly collapse beneath you when you cum with a sharp whine, hole clenching and drawing out his own orgasm. choso spills inside of you with a choked groan, back to his mumbling about how good you feel as he rides it out.
“thank you,” he falls on top of you with a shaky sigh, obviously tired. his weight has you falling too, the both of you coming together to cuddle in the backseat, staring at the smeared, dirty glass.
“you know, baby, i’m never cleaning those sexy handprints off.”
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gracexthoughts · 2 months
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intrusion 
jacaerys velaryon x wife!reader
warnings; assault, blood and fighting, break in, cursing, pretty typical for canon universe level of violence, no use of y/n or character description, men being creeps summary; from this request. two intruders, sent by the greens, stumble upon you in their search for rhaenyra and decide to take you as their prize instead a/n; i love this request sm and wrote this kinda fast so apologies for any mistakes. please do not read if any of the above is triggering to you. i put *** on either end of the physical attack on reader if you want to avoid it
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The night has been restless for you. A storm lashes at the island Dragonstone towers over; rain and lightning and thunder tearing at the walls of the keep, wind howling against the window pains. Your husband, Jacaerys, is still gone after being sent to treat with some ally. He has yet to return, and you cannot help the worry that has wormed its way into your chest. The storm has held him up, you repeat to yourself, sighing as you toss in bed to lay on your back. Even though you’ve only been married for a few moons, the bed feels too large without his warmth next to you. 
Lighting illuminates the room, and the door to your chambers bursts open as thunder claps, covering the sound of the wood banging against the stone. You bolt up, hoping to see Jacaerys, but instead, you are met with two pairs of unfamiliar eyes. 
Two men stand in the doorway of your chambers, one tall and skinny, a white scar across his face shining in the torchlight, and the other short with muscles pushing against the seams of his clothing. Fear seizes your heart as they examine the room. “Who are you?” you demand sharply, attempting to cover the fear in your voice with the commanding tone you hear Queen Rhaenyra use so often. 
“That’s not the bloody Whore Queen,” the stout man grumbles in a Flea Bottom accent, lowering the torch slightly. Whore Queen, they called your mother-by-law. The Greens sent them, you realize, your heartbeat increasing its pace.
“That’s the bastard prince’s bitch,” the taller one sneers, kicking the door closed and stalking forward.
“Where’s your princeling at, girly?” the other coos, placing the torch in the sconce near the door. As they come closer, you scoot away on the bed, their eyes like rabid animals circling prey. 
“The library,” you lie, “He’s due to come to bed any minute.” Your hand slowly moves under the pillow behind you, searching for the small dagger Jacaerys insisted you sleep with since the attack on his mother by Ser Arryk. The men look at each other, evil smiles splitting their faces. 
“Just came from the library,” the shorter man sneers, stepping up onto the platform the bed sits on. 
“No bastards there. Seems like you’re all alone,” the tall man coos, biting his lip as he stands at the foot of the bed. Your fingers close around the cool hilt of the dagger as the blankets of the bed are ripped off you. You don’t move, keeping the dagger hidden under the pillows, even as the men scan your figure, only clad in a silk nightdress. 
*** 
“Leave now, and the Queen and the Prince will reward you; I’ll ensure it,” you say, your voice beginning to quiver slightly in fear. 
“Oh, the Queen and Prince will reward us, alright, just not your lot,” the man at the foot of the bed smiles menacingly. “Hold her down.” The man at your side reaches out for you, and you slash at him with the dagger, managing a deep cut on his arm. The man stumbles back, a raging yell from his lips. 
“GUARDS! HELP!” You scream, trying to move to the left side of the bed, but your leg is pulled back, and your arm that holds the dagger is pinned down to your side by a heavy boot, a rough hand covering your mouth and muffling your screams. 
“Shut up, idiot,” the taller man grumbles to the other, who still wails, before turning back to you, “I heard you were a feisty one,” he laughs as he hovers above you, wrenching the dagger free and bringing it up to your face. 
“Little cunt, more like,” the man you cut grumbles, glaring at you as tears of fear blur your vision. 
“You’ll be fine. Help me with her, would ya?” The two men grab your arms and legs, dragging you from the bed. You cry out as you land on the hard stone floor.
“Shut up!” One of them growls behind you, pulling you up by your hair and covering your mouth. You squirm and fight as best as you can, but the men have the advantage and chuckle at your feeble attempts as they shove you up against the wall. You cry out again as your head connects with the wall and they begin tying your hands with rough rope as you pray silently to any god who will listen.
***
Before they can secure the ropes completely, blood sprays out of the taller man’s chest as a sword splits him in two. The hands on your limbs relent as the man is pulled off you, revealing Jacaerys, sword dripping with blood, face dark with rage and hair wet with rain. 
Jace tosses the man to the floor before his eyes turn predatorily to the stockier man who draws a short sword from his belt. You watch in shock as your husband engages with the man, attacking him with more vigor and bloodlust than you thought possible for the sweet man you know. You back away hurriedly and crouch in the corner of the room, desperately trying to get as far away from the fight as possible.
A hand pulls your attention from the fight, and you flinch away before turning to see the Queen, your mother-by-law, reaching for you. Her face is soft but urgent. She goes again for your hand, pulling you to her and helping you stand. She pulls you into her, taking care the shield you as gentle arms wrap around your shaking body, not caring that the blood on your front will stain her gown. You cling to her desperately, listening to her whispers of comfort, and turn your head to see Ser Lorrent pushing the intruder to his knees in front of the Prince, his blade to the man’s throat as more guards rush into the room. Jacaerys stands over the man menacingly, his chest rising and falling with his rapid breath, blood pooling from a gash on the intruder’s leg onto the stone floor. 
“Your friend is lucky I gave him a quick death,” Jacaerys growls, glaring at the man on the floor as he crouches down in front of him like a predator, “You won’t be so. I’ll be sure to send The Usurper a message with your head, once I’ve made you pay for touching my wife.” You’ve never seen such rage in your husband before; his usually so soft and sweet amber eyes now contorted with hatred, the flames from the torchlight reflecting in his eyes as if the fire is inside him. His sword drips with blood, mixing with the blood pool on the floor and yet there’s not a scratch on him. Rhaenyra squeezes you tightly for a moment before releasing you and stepping forward. 
“Take him to the dungeons, have two guards on duty at all times, and summon the maids,” commands the Queen to Ser Lorrent, who nods and drags the man from your chambers, a trail of blood in their wake. You watch, without moving from your corner, as Rhaenyra cups her son’s face before taking her leave and the guards, and Jacaerys turns to you; all the hardness in his gaze melted away and replaced by wide eyes full of concern. He speaks your name, his voice cracking slightly at the sight of you, and you throw yourself to him. His sword clatters to the ground as his muscular arms catch you, a hand cradling your head against his chest and the other wrapped around your waist tightly. Your knees give out as the shock leaves your veins, and the pair of you drop to the floor. 
“How did-” 
“The storm made the flight back harder than I expected. I was on my way up when I found a dead guard. They’d pushed the body behind a pillar, but I still saw it. I thought they’d come for Mother again, so I ran to her chambers first. When I saw her undisturbed, I just knew,” Jace explains softly, brushing your hair soothingly, his thumb wiping away tears and blood spatters from your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, my love. I should’ve been here. I should have come here first, I-I’m going to kill them all for laying a hand on you.”
Jacaerys’ mind is reeling and he’s sure he has never been so scared as he was when he found those men attacking his wife, his love, his heart. His more violent side, one he pushes down for the sake of decency, itches to storm down to the dungeons and torture the man who dared hurt you, to make him pay for every second of pain he caused you, to fly to King’s Landing himself to find those responsible for this night and add their blood to his blade. But you need him more in this moment and he is ever at your will.
“S’not your fault,” you say softly, your voice weaker than you’d like. Jace opens his mouth, but two maids enter the room, clearly having just been woken, eyes wide at the state of your chambers. 
“Pardon, my prince, my lady,” the elder of the two says softly, dark blue eyes full of sympathy. Your husband helps you stand, his arm staying protectively around your shoulder. 
"Let us wash and try to find sleep," he says softly to you before turning to ask one of the maids to make the bed in your old chambers and run you a bath. Jacaerys wraps his dark red and still-damp cape around your shoulders before leading you down the halls to the chambers you lived in before your marriage. The familiar surroundings comfort you as Jace leads you to the couch before starting a fire in the hearth.
Soon, the bed has been made up and a hot bath drawn and your husband dismisses the maids, thanking them for their help at such late hours. Jacaerys gently helps you undress and step into the bath. Kneeling outside, he helps wash away the night's evidence, softly sponging the blood from your skin and wringing it from your hair. You lean into his soft touch, finding comfort in his presence and care. Few words are spoken between you as he cares for you but in this moment, his presence is all you want. You can sense the anger in Jace lingering under his skin, needling at his mind, but he stays by your side, whispering promises that he won’t leave you, that he’ll always protect you; your wellbeing more important to him than anything else in the world.
Once you are dressed in a clean nightgown and all blood cleansed from both of you, the pair of you crawl into bed together, your head on his broad chest, allowing his heartbeat to lull you back into a sense of safety. It is not until the first rays of light begin to shine through the curtains that you both find sleep, but you do eventually, wrapped in the loving embrace of each other.
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b0r3dtod3ath · 2 months
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hiiiii! I saw requests were open and I jumped. I would like to request a super fluffy blurb where Oscar has a very bad case of baby fever and he's begging reader and like a flash forward to the baby being born and Oscar is full on panic mode :)
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Warnings: afab!reader
Oscar had it bad. The baby fever had struck him hard and fast, and there was no escaping it.
It all started innocently. He noticed a baby dressed in Mclaren merch in the crowd just before one of his races. He didn’t think much about it at first but as time passed his eyes started to lit up anytime he saw a child. 
You and Oscar joined your friends that recently had a baby for a brunch. Their one-month-old baby was nestled in a carrier beside them, sleeping peacefully despite the noise around you. 
Oscar couldn't take his eyes off the baby. Every few minutes, he'd glance over, a soft smile playing on his lips. You could see the longing in his eyes and it absolutely made your heart melt. 
"She's precious," Oscar said, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned closer “She’s so small and cute”. Your friend chuckled at his state, “You want to hold her?”. Oscar’s gaze immediately turned to face them with a surprise. “Can.. Can I?”. 
Your friend smiled warmly as she helped him lift the baby out of the carrier. “Just make sure to support her head”. He cradled her in his arms with a tenderness that made your heart swell. His eyes were wide with wonder as he gazed down at the tiny bundle, and for a moment, it was as if the whole world had disappeared, he was in a trance. You could tell he was already imagining what it would be like to hold his own child. 
“Please. What do you think? I can't stop thinking about it. I want to be a dad so badly”. Oscar said as later that evening the two of you laid on the couch. You stroked his hair as he rested his head on your lap. “Honey,” you began, but he interrupted, his words tumbling out in a rush.
"I know it sounds crazy, but I just... I feel ready. I want to start a family with you. I want to experience everything. I want us to have a baby”. You chuckled and squeezed his hand. 
9 months later the two of you found yourself in a car. You had never been more grateful for having a racing driver as a husband. The drive to the hospital was a blur of speed and concern, Oscar’s knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. He kept glancing over at you, his face concentrated.
"You’re doing great, just keep breathing," he kept saying, more to himself than to you, it seemed.
Every red light felt like an eternity, and every bump in the road made you wince. Oscar's jaw was clenched tight, his eyes focused on the road ahead but looking back to you every few seconds. He muttered reassurances under his breath, trying to keep you calm and himself composed.
"I'm here, love. We're almost there," he said, reaching over to squeeze your hand. "Just a little longer”. 
You nodded, focusing on his voice and the rhythm of your breathing. The contractions were coming faster now, each one more intense than the last. You squeezed his hand, hard, and he didn't flinch, just kept driving, determined to get you to the hospital as quickly and safely as possible.
Hours seemed to stretch into eternity as you labored. Oscar never left you. The stress could be seen in his eyes, the way they flickered with worry each time you cried out in pain.
Finally, the moment came. With one final push, your baby was born. The room was filled with the sound of a newborn's cries, and tears streamed down Oscar's face as he looked at your child for the first time.
"You did it," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "You were amazing”.
The nurse placed the baby on your chest, and you both gazed down at the tiny, perfect face. Oscar's hand trembled as he reached out to touch the baby, his eyes wide with awe.
As the importance of the moment hit him, his face turned pale, and he swayed slightly. "Oscar?" you said, concern creeping into your voice. He gave a weak smile, trying to stay upright. "I think... I think I need to sit down," he murmured, and then, before you could react, he fainted, collapsing onto the floor.
The nurses quickly attended to him, and he came back within moments, looking sheepish and slightly embarrassed. "Sorry about that," he said. You couldn't help but laugh, despite the exhaustion and the whirlwind of emotions.
July 21, 2024
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nerdy-novelist017 · 3 months
Text
The Ride (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Pt 2)
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Wow, I truly didn't expect all the love for the last post! Thank you so so much! Here's a part two baked fresh just for you lovelies! ;)
( Also! I'm going to work on putting together a masterlist for my fics for him since I have so many ideas)
Ps. please send me requests for this man i'm going feral over here from all the possibilities
Part 1 here
Benny x Bunny Masterlist
Word Count- 1.9k
-Minor NSFW Content-
Summary- You thought getting on the bike would be the hardest part. Having to unwrap your legs from his waist and get off at the end of the night was significantly more difficult.
*******
Despite the fact that you knew there were multiple people surrounding you, all cheering, your eyes were glued to Benny’s form as he swung a leg over top of his bike. He kickstarted the motorcycle, the muscles in his thigh flexing through the faded pair of jeans he wore. The engine roared to life and it took everything in you not to jump back. Benny glanced over his shoulder, and the look in his eyes all but dared you to run away, to take it back and return to the safety of the car. 
But some underlying competitive streak in you flared and you clenched your fists tightly. You approached his bike and he took your purse and Tupperware bowl, tucking them away in his back compartment. He leaned forward and awkwardly swung a leg over his bike, attempting to repeat his action as you mounted, but the movement caused your dress to slide up to reveal a generous view of your upper thigh. Blushing, you glanced at the onlookers who cheered and whistled at the sight, but Benny seemed to ignore them. Without looking, he reached back, his hand enveloping your thigh, sliding it higher so that your foot found the footrest. Heat instantly blossomed from the contact and you physically resisted clenching your knees tighter around him. 
“Hang on tight, Little Bunny,” he murmured as he moved his hand to grab your arm, gently guiding it forward to wrap around his waist.  He revved the engine and you tighten your grasp over his waist, eyes closed as the bike began to slowly roll forward over the grassy field. The cheers subsided into the wind that tugged gently at your hair. You’re going on an adventure, it seemed to say, but you refused to open your eyes.
Heart drumming in your chest, you hoped to spend the entire ride with your eyes screwed shut, pretending to be anywhere else, anywhere safer. But then the bumpy and uneven field soon turned to smooth blacktop as he maneuvered the two of you onto the backroad. You felt the bike increase in speed slightly and you dared to peek an eye open. Corn fields blurred as you sped by, the setting sun seeming to light the horizon with a brilliant show of deep oranges and purples. A gasp escaped your lips and you pressed yourself closer to him in a desperate measure to not fall off, hands flush against the curve of his abdomen.  
He rode with one hand, you realized, and it painted a picture of a cowboy in your mind. Had this been the 1860s, Benny would have ridden his horse like this, a model of a true outlaw with his dangerous persona and ruggedly handsome appearance.
The world sped by, or rather you sped by the world as Benny drove down the center of the yellow lines. You couldn’t stop the squeal that escaped you as he leaned the bike to go around a turn. He took you down roads you’ve never been before, pointed out interesting things and places you’ve never seen. True to his word, he didn’t go very fast, never faster than the speed limit at least. But regardless, it was an adventure – both frightening and fun and your heart never seemed to return to its slower rhythm. Despite the fact that you've never ridden on a motorcycle before and the uncertainty of your next destination, there was strange sense of safety that invoked you as you breathed in Benny's scent, hands clasped tightly to him. As the sun completely dipped below the horizon and the temperature dropped, he finally asked you where you lived. 
When he did eventually pull up to your house (hours later), the rumble of the motorcycle seemed to echo off the houses, disturbing the peaceful silence of your quiet neighborhood. He cut the engine and the toe of his boot kicked out the kickstand, shifting your combined weights to the side slightly and the air was once again filled with silence. The muscles in his back flexed as he leaned back ever so slightly, his head turning to glance back at you over his shoulder.
He held an arm out for you as you awkwardly dismounted, heart pounding again. A strange sense of disappointment panged in your gut as the bottom of your heels made contact with the blacktop. You stood there before him, eyes now level with his as he remained seated casually on his bike. Keep driving, you wanted to tell him. Keep driving and let's find our way to the end of the world together. You wanted to hop back on the back and wrap your arms around his waist. You wanted to ride with him till the sun came up over the horizon, just this once, just because you’ve never stayed out till the sun came up. Your family would worry, your father would be pacing up and down the hallway just inside, but something in you longed to throw caution to the wind, to do something naughty. 
You bit your lip as you broke eye contact with him and looked down to your feet. What were you thinking? You played life by the rules. You were a good girl, that’s what your parents called you. That’s what your teachers called you. That’s what you were raised to be. That’s all you knew how to be, what you were comfortable with. Benny . . . he made you uncomfortable. He filled your belly with butterflies, made your heart pump harder than normal, made the spot between your legs tingle. All things that dangerously threatened to upend the perfectly planned life you had. Trouble, plain and simple.
You got what you wanted – a ride home and a bit of excitement. You got close enough to the fire without getting burned, got to play a risky game for the evening. Now it was time for you to go back to your routine life. That perfectly . . . boring life. 
“Thank you . . . for the ride,” you said softly, the adrenaline of the adventure smothering into ashes. 
He nodded and you watched as his cyan gaze moved from you to your house behind you. “You still live with your family?”
“Yeah,” you replied, heat touching your face. “Why?”
He looked back at you. “Just gotta know what kind of house you want after we’re married.”
“What?” you balked at him, stomach dropping like you just took a plunge off a bridge.
He smiled and leaned an arm forward, resting casually on his bike as if he didn’t just say something shockingly direct. He offered no help, just watched as you attempted to sputter a response.
“M–married? We . . . I don’t . . . even know you.” You breathed out a nervous laugh. You went for one ride with him! You had only had a handful of sentences exchanged between you, the majority of those spoken with a crowd cheering around you. Who did this guy think he was? 
He shrugged as he slid his hands into the front pocket of his jacket and retrieved his pack of cigarettes. “We have the rest of our lives to get to know each other.”
Your eyes widened at his audacity. “I’m not marrying you!”
“Yeah? Why’s that?” He looked amused as he flipped open his lighter, the flame casting his face in an orange glow as he lit one of his cigarettes. Your protests wavered slightly as you watched his hands cup around the flame in an effort to protect from the wind and his brow furrowed slightly in concentration, the cigarette tucked between his lips. A phantasm of his hands cupping your breasts, his tall frame hovering above you, lips pressing softly against your collarbone tainted your mind and you took a step back to put physical distance between you and this man. 
Swallowing thickly, you continued, “Well, I don’t even know your last name–”
“Cross.”
“–And I don’t even know if I like you!”
“I think you like me,” he said confidently and you snapped your jaw shut at the accusation. “Why else would you let me drive you home?”
“W–what if I just used you to get me home?” you countered quickly. 
“Did you use me, Bunny?” he drew out the sentence with an almost painfully seductive smile. You furrowed your brow, irritation flooding your veins. He was quick, you’d give him that.
Benny studied the way your lips pursed and he wondered if that was something you did while you were angry or if it was your way of finding another excuse. He wanted to spend the rest of his life finding the answers to your facial expressions, the meaning behind your almost undetectable quirks he was discovering with each minute spent in your company. And my god, those those lips . . . his eyes fell down to those soft lips of yours, fascinated by how he wanted to feel them wrapped around his—
“Thank you for the ride, Mr. Cross,” your voice brought him back to reality as you reached forward and grabbed your purse and empty Tupperware bowl from his bike. “But I–I have no intentions on marrying you. In fact, I doubt I’ll ever see you again.”
“Hmm, okay,” he feigned being hurt by your words. “Whatever you say, kid.” 
You shot him a frustrated look. “What’s with all the nicknames?”
He held up his arms in mock surrender. “You don’t like ‘em?”
"I don't think they're very accurate."
He raised his brows at you, unconvinced.
“Yeah? Well, I got a nickname for you.” you retorted. 
“And what’s that?” He played along to your game. 
“Trouble.”
“Trouble?”
“Mh-hm.” You nodded and lifted your free hand to brush the wind-whipped hair from your eyes.
He shrugged and spoke around the cigarette in his mouth. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been called that. You think I’m trouble, Bunny?”
An exasperated sigh left your lips and Benny felt a swell of pride at the reaction. This was fun, teasing you like this. The blush tainting your face, a clear sign of your flustered reaction, made his heartbeat quicken. 
“Goodnight, Benny,” you said a little firmer as you turned and walked up the sidewalk to your house. 
“Goodnight, Bunny,” Benny called out as he watched the sway of your hips as you climbed the front steps. You shot him one last look over the curve of your shoulder before you opened the front door and slipped inside. Benny sat on his bike outside your house, his mind reeling as he finished his cigarette. He hadn’t felt this excited in a long time and hadn't felt this kind of adrenaline since his first ride. This was a new kind of ride, Benny realized. Something exhilarating and arousing gripped his heart when he looked at you in your pretty little dress with your innocently wide eyes and pouty lip. The primal instinct of taking you in his arms and laying you down onto your shared bed, his body shielding you from the rest of the world played in his mind the movie. He wanted to grab your hand and show you just how exciting life could be with him. Not to change you, he’d make sure your integrity was protected, but to broaden your horizon.
And maybe it made him selfish, but Benny's never had anything as good as you in his life and because of that, he wanted to be your guide throughout every adventure going forward.
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