#Still kept some of his pieces
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They’re legally ALLOWED TO DRIVE I JUST CHECKED??
#PEOPLE WITH VISION IN JUST THE ONE EYE CAN STILL LGALLY DRIVE????#This is crazy#They should not be allowed behind the wheel#This is bonkers#ANYWAY OFFICIAL COLORED VERSION OF THE NEW ULTRON DESIGN#YIPPEE#At one point or another I just got used to drawing him in the Avengers Assemble style he has so I just adapted that#Still kept some of his pieces#Like the eyes and chest bit#Workin on another piece that shows him better#aYIPPE#okok tags#mcu ultron#age of ultron#marvel#marvel age of ultron#marvel aou#ultron#ultron marvel#letul#oc insert#oc#marvel oc#superhero oc#platonic pairing#marvel movie#marvel fanart#fanart
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BEACH OUTFIT 💥💥💥💥
He used to surf the web back in 98'.
#the clothes were so difficult for no reason i kept having to edit them#i actually really like this one lol#cunty uncle type thing going on#Also i love the HC that he as a plush tummy thats so cute and im stealing it#i was about to give him flipflops until i realized he cant do that#He had a dolphin print shirt but it looked ugly with the shorts and i really wanted the striped shorts lol#deltarune spamton#spamton#spamton g spamton#spamton fanart#deltarune#deltarune chapter 2#i think it looks fine but still i hope it comes across he's resting his right arm on an invisible prop for the pose lol#there was a small little fella in the back of my mind who wanted to put him in a two piece but i couldnt sorry lmfao#edit: I forgot to write this out but I wanted to put it on any post bc i dont want to post a txt post just for this#but honestly he's gotta be some flavor of queer.#It doesnt matter to me which type all that much but I HC that even though he probably is#he has never been in a relationship and i dont think he ever will#he is so full of himself and he's kind of an ass tbh. That and i doubt he trusts anyone with what he's gone through#even if he got time to heal i dont think he'd ever trust someone enough to make a real relationship that way#Thats it thanks for coming to my ted talk#if you opened the tags here's your secret paragraph & im not sorry#BuwheArt
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Been thinking a lot about Oda choosing Queen of Night as Law's image flower.
Like. Isn't that really important? In a story heavily featuring sun symbolism, MC with an image flower called Sun-facer, being assigned with "Beauty under Moonlight" is a dead giveaway that the author considers his role to be complimentary to the protagonist, an alternate source of light that takes its light from the sun.
A lot of Japanese fans think the last bit of vegapunk's message, "Those of you who are toyed by that fate, I hope this message reaches you" - was directed at Law's plot. There's no other D who is currently alive and interested in their "checkered fate" other than Law. Dawn and Dusk shared an interesting observation about Law's family being the only family of D's confirmed to originate from the opposite side of the red line (x). Then there's the hidden family name, and a five billion berry devil fruit ability. The groundwork has been laid out and none of these have been properly explained yet, there's no way Law wouldn't be important to the endgame plot.
#I'm still onboard my theory that Law's ancestors didn't belong to the ancient kingdom#but they embraced their will and passed it down in own bloodline - perhaps to fulfill some sort of duty#the knowledge is lost in law's generation but he's being 'guided' and 'kept alive'#it's all probably a red flag but let's stay hopeful#even though losing his hat was Hella ominous#BUT LET'S STAY HOPEFUL#one piece#one piece meta#1 am feels#it's not 1 am tho#trafalgar law#trafalgar d. water law#monkey d. luffy#mine
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qantoine’s coping mechanism to feeling left behind being both self-isolating and becoming possesive of those he cares for is so juicy as a concept . like yeah you go you funky creachure, manifest those complicated and sometimes contradictory emotions
#anyone remember that one fanart of qantoine like . grabbing onto qetoiles and covering his mouth antoine reposted to his insta story .#anyone wonder what was up with that . like he reposted fanarts every now and again but like . that one specifically was such a Choice on hi#part . fantastic fanart btw it occupies space in my brain still#but yeah god . i think qantoine’s self-isolation (+ his secrecy the way he struggled generally to connect with others etc)#was the more obvious Thing he did as a coping mechanism . but damn were those smaller moments of possessiveness interesting#bc you could often just read it as protectiveness instead and well it Was that . but i think it becomes even more interesting if u read it#through a possesive lens . theyre two sides of the same coin anw it just depends on where the limit between the two lies for u#anw i think it manifested itself most obviously with pomme bc a parent-child relationship lends itself to that dynamic more . ough some goo#moments there i��d need to revist their relationship more . ‘je te connais comme si je t’avais créé’ which just has layers of potential#meaning . if you subscribe to the theory that qantoine had a hand in creating the eggs then that adds even More to the potential#possessiveness there . love it#and it manifested with qfrench too i think just in more subtle ways . like idk when there were implications he’d done a Thing to help them#out in some way . like the implication that he had a hand in getting ayp out of prison that one time . or when he was protective of etoiles#during prison . or even moments where he failed to achieve some sort of level of power over them like when bagz and ayp broke into his#secret room and he kept giving bagz the cold shoulder when she was trying to apologise to him 😭 . idk stuff like that . semi petty bitch#energy . but i LOVE the idea of this eldritch dude who’s still figuring out how mortal relationships work kinda just . being too possessive#too controlling . all in the effort to try and keep them in One Piece . and maybe in the end it won’t matter How he keeps them safe as long#as he manages to . he’s old as hell and he’s probably gonna outlive them and theyre all so fragile and small . they won’t see the bigger#picture so he’ll have to make sure he’s manoeuvring them around inside it correctly . <- absolute hc territory in the end there but it’s#very fun to think about :P#jay rambles#antoine daniel#qfrench.posting
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#seriously seriously one of the most beautiful pieces of music i have ever heard#i feel so conflicted thinking about this but i was always afraid to get more into shinee because of jonghyun#i remember the exact day he died when i was in high school and i remember feeling slammed with the news even though he was just guy from...#...clue + note to me and as i have gotten more into kpop in the past few years i have been there for all of shinee's comebacks from don't...#...call me on and i always kept them at a distance bc even though i thought they seemed so cool i was worried to get into them and always...#...feel like someone was missing. and now that my little sister has gotten so into them i have too#and it does feel like someone is missing all of the time and we watch so much content of jonghyun together that sometimes it hits me all...#...over again how unreal and bad it is that he isn't in the world with us anymore#i am so sad too thinking about how i almost didn't hear some of the most beautiful music out of the fear of grieving him#one of the most beautiful voices and i click with his words so so much#like he's my friend and i almost never got to know him :( and that thought it so much worse than the worry of having to miss him :(#it also makes me sick bc if it would have changed anything for him at all. he's still making so many people happy. he's still there for me.#i don't get this emotional every time i listen to him but sometimes it all hits me#music#Spotify
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Fat Man on a Beach (HTV, 1974)
"I'm going to read some more poems now. Erm. It may be that if you want to go and have a cup of tea, this would be a good time. I know that's what you masses are like. The mention of poetry and off you go."
#fat man on a beach#b.s. johnson#classic tv#documentary#htv#michael bakewell#aled vaughan#a frankly incredible and truly unique piece of television. according to Johnson's biographer‚ the novelist Jonathan Coe‚ this film was#described in tv listings at the time as a documentary about Porth Ceiriad‚ a rather beautiful beach on the Llŷn Peninsula in North Wales#it.. is not that. i can only imagine the baffled reactions of an idle audience tuning into HTV in 1974. true‚ this is entirely filmed at#Porth Ceiriad‚ but any element of travelogue (or even really of documentary) is dispelled almost immediately: the first lines heard are#those of an unseen narrator who tells us we are about to watch a film about a fat man on a beach. 'Do you really want to watch that?' he#asks incredulously. it's a challenge‚ the first of several from Johnson‚ who spends the next 40 minutes variously pottering about the sands#mugging to the camera‚ reciting poetry (his own and others; literary and dirty) and baring his soul. I've never seen anything quite like it#I'm not sure that much has been made that is quite like it tbh. Johnson was a fiercely original‚ brilliant mind; he was a novelist#a poet‚ a critic and a filmmaker. he was also‚ when this first aired on uk tv‚ dead. a few weeks after completing filming on this‚ his#final work‚ he sadly took his own life. i mention it not as a grim factoid but because it is a vital contextualisation of this film; the#play has been described before (and play is not the right word) as a sort of loose form manifesto from Johnson‚ a laying out of his own#peculiar philosophies and interests in a disjointed manner‚ peppered with asides and distractions and filming mishaps (all kept in the#final product). for me‚ the feeling was inescapable that this was like viewing a suicide note. whether Johnson had already come to some#conclusion on that front or not‚ the fact is that his own obsession with morbidity‚ with the spectre of death and of decay (it runs right#through his work‚ particularly his work in film) transforms this into something almost confessional. there's a section of the film where#the author recalls witnessing the aftermath of a traffic accident‚ a motorcyclist thrown through wire fencing and sliced like cheese#the absurdity of the comparison is lingered on‚ Johnson almost stalls and appears to lose his train of thought (briefly discussing instead#the modern mass production of cheese) but he also seems clearly affected‚ delivering the tale in a halting‚ reverent tone#not that this is all darkness and gloom; it's just as often funny‚ or surreal (the film frequently cuts away to a bunch of bananas‚ only#later explained by one of Johnson's biographical recollections) and includes visual puns‚ bad jokes and a few moments of physical comedy#the writer doesn't seem distressed. rather‚ he seems... if not at peace‚ then as though he has come to terms. confident in his own beliefs#and ideals. but perhaps that's reaching too far‚ or reading in what the viewer wishes to read in. the sad fact is that Johnson took his own#life‚ but he left us with a body of work unlike almost anything else‚ and which is still being celebrated and analysed today. rip bsj
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saw a living oriole irl for the first time today!
#it was a female orchard oriole#i even sucessfully photographed it#at least kinda#definently not my best photo but for a 15 second first time sighting of a small passerine im happy with it#but yeah i had a very fun time watching birds today#there was a common grackle that kept coming back to this wet piece of bread#i couldnt find an angle i liked unfortunately but i got some decent stuff i think#it was interesting tho bc there were quite a few of the species where i was watching#but it was only that one individual that took interest in the bread#i could tell it was the same one bc he had a scar around his neck :(#i wonder if he had gotten tangled in some fishing line at some point and at some point the fishing line was removed#bc none of my photos looked like there was any fishing line around his neck currently#he might have been a rehabbed and released bird#but yeah i really wish the fishers at the park i birdwatch at would bc more careful about leaving their lines out#idk the terminology lol#but they tend to be pretty haphazard about it :(#im kind of worried bc rusty blackbirds frequent the park and theyre a vulnerable species#fortunately theyre only around for winter/early spring so not during the majority of the fishing but still#i try to clean it up when i can#one time there was an american robin caught in a loose fishing line and i was able to get it out#unfortunately i did not have scissors or any other sharp object on me so i wasnt able to do it with much precision#when it was able to fly off it had some fishing line hanging from its feet still which is unfortunate but its better than the alternative#i wanted to run to the store and buy some scissors but i didnt want to leave it unattended in such a vulnerable position for any length...#...of time#but yeah clean up after yourselves when youre out in nature#even if its just an urban/suburban park like that
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climbing the walls over this
#tm#like....like!!!!#tbqh i didn't even remember that the first argument wasn't a real fight and now i'm --#i feel crazy because it's such a similar argument for her to make but it could also not possibly be more different#the first is a show; a performance; it's what red john - hell what most of the people who know jane - would expect from him#ego and pride and putting himself above the law - that argument could have been with almost anyone#but lisbon is the only one who could make the second argument (the ONLY one and i'll stand by that#even the others at the cbi who have seen his softer/quieter/sadder moments could not do it#not because they don't care about him - they CLEARLY do - but because they don't know him well enough#he doesn't LET them know him enough - at this point i don't think there's anyone but lisbon that he would say these things to#and say them sincerely; and mean them)#i think she's the only one who he's let in enough to know that he's not putting himself above anything;#he thinks so little of himself that he'd sacrifice himself without question if it meant getting red john#that's the argument (the plea) she's really making: care about yourself damnit. if not for you then for the people who need you#(for me)#and god it's comforting to know how this all ends up but this still hurts because he just....can't#(some things you just can't fix // you kept the pieces....i'm doing sosofine)#and then and then -- 'you'd be dead' 'but you'd have red john' [smash cut to him shooting his only lead to save her life] LIKE???#he'd sacrifice himself with no hesitation but he'd save her without thinking#let me relax#(but also do you think red john heard about that and was like 'it's a surprise tool that will help me later')
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c an i just say i love how Luffy doesn't care about Usopp saying he defeated the arlong pirates but also validates him in the same breath I mean
Luffy is unconditional love incarnate
#( one piece liveposting. )#yeah the first season is sappy i get it#i see your complaint but i raise you with : I don't give a fuck and one piece has always been sappy#its literally a show where he defeats you with the power of friendship (and his fists)#anyway i love one piece its beautiful I think everything about the live action is great#I dont care if they changed things around they kept the essence#of course the series cant be exactly 100% the same as the anime#there's 1000+ episodes#Netflix does not have the budget to do something like that#its not 2 D its real people#so yeah they are going to ADAPT it#and honestly#they have done an impeccable job#I miss some characters and we might see them later still#or not#but in my honest opinion#I give 10/10 to the live action#bravo
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Most desperate things the 141 boys have done for sex because I can't stop thinking about it <3
(sorry for this being a 3rd repost, I had an account called Lumi_bunsblog but that one got deleted for some reason so this is the new one now ig lol)
John's begged for it. I mean on his hands and knees begging for a taste. I know this man is an avid pussy pronoun user too. He has been on his knees in front of you as you sit pretty on his couch, trailing kisses up your soft belly to your tits and then back down to your thighs.
"C'mon sweet girl lemme' 'ave a taste of 'er yeah? Know she fuckin' needs me hm? Just look at tha'" as he runs a thumb of the wetness that's seeped through you thin panties, just waiting for you to say the words and let him tear them off.
He knows if anybody else in the 141 or if any of his fellow soldiers could see him now, the Captain Price practically drooling over you and sweet talking your cunt like it could hear him they would have a fit. But he couldn't care less because you looked so fucking good right now so "just let 'er 'ave what she wants alright sweet thing?"
I just know Kyle has spent 70% of his last month's pay check on hotel room because the 5 star pent house suite was the only hotel room in your area left available during the holidays. He played it cool with an arm around your waist assuring you it was fine, acting like this was the room he wanted to get, not the one he was forced to have. But if he was being forced to do anything thank god it was spoiling you.
"Don't worry 'bout it love. Just make 'urself comfortable" He'll say in a sultry sweet tone, planting kisses up the side of your neck before excusing himself to the lavish bathroom to check his bank account. He had to make sure he still had enough to buy you a nice breakfast in the morning.
And you're already layed out so pretty for him on the bed so he's not complaining about anything. Especially not the mirror situated on the ceiling right above the bed. Oh and don't you dare suggest splitting the cost, "just split your legs for me hun, 's all ya need to do"
Johnny is eager, like so so eager. When a passionate make out session on your couch got even more heated than either of you had previously expected and he now had his fingers playing with the waistband of your skirt, letting his cold finger tips splay themselves just below. When he got to the hem of your panties and began to hook a finger into the lace you had to stop him,
"Johnny"
"Yea?" He was breathless, chasing your lips when you pulled away to talk. You almost felt bad for separating but if he was going to touch you, there was one request you needed to make. You had felt his nails drag across your thighs moments earlier, it felt wonderful but they were...a little long.
"Do ya nae want this hen?" He'd ask, looking at you like you were a piece of art. Pleading with his eyes, shining like they'd spill tears if you said yes.
"No, no I want this, I want you so so much. It's just..." you trailed off
"Tell me what's wrong bonnie and I'll fix it, yeah?" his hands kept you grounded to his lap either a soft grip on you ass.
"It's just- you're nails, they're a little long" your request was nothing more than whisper.
'Oh' Johnny knew he probably should have just asked for clippers, but you felt so damn good on his lap. He could feel your warm cunt through the zipper of his jeans and with your tits brushing against his chest he couldn't bring himself to move.
You watched in shock as he just began to just tear his nails off with his teeth. Without a second thought his pointer and middle finger nails were bit off to the skin. He paused and looked at his right hand before ripping off the index finger as well.
"Johnny what's gotten into you-?"
But he's already got his hands back down your skirt. Soft finger tips slipping between your folds. "Feel better now eh?" And when you just nuzzled your nose into his neck and let out a little whimper he chuckled "I'll take tha' as a yes"
Simon swallows his pride for the first time in his life for a chance at hitting it raw. You tell him it's okay to not use protection, that you're on birth control. But you needed to make sure that he didn't have any stds seeing as they're even more of a pain when you're on birth control. Not that you don't trust him you just want to make sure and it's not a problem for him seeing as he has to get tested every other week being in the military.
He doesn't, however, have his records on him at the moment and with a girl already lying in his bed telling him he can cum inside. Plus a raging hard on, he doesn't exactly feel like running back to base to get the paper work. So...next best thing.
"Price-"
"Rare for ya to call on leave Simon, whatchya need?" Price responds, his voice cracking through the face time call, a cigar dangling from his lips.
"Sir I need..." he looks back at you, your eyes expectant and shining. You wanted him and he wasn't going to fuck this up. "Can you send me a picture of my last med check results?" He rushes out the last part, elbow on his knee and hand dragging over his face.
Price quirks one eyebrow but doesn't look like he's going to ask any questions. Unlucky for Simon though, Johnny was also in the room. His voice distantly coming through the phone,
"The feck ya need those for l.t.?" He questioned
Simon just groaned, soap's addition to this call just made it even more frustrating. But he snapped out of his frustration at the sound of price opening his file cabinet. "What part?" Price asked, dismissing Johnny with a wave of his hand.
"The-" Simon began, this was fucking embarrassing but when he looked back to you, now perched on your hands and knees, the plush of you hips resting on your ankles, he'd do anything at this point. "STD results." He responded plainly.
"Aye! No fuckin' way mate!" The sound of a chair scraping the floor could be heard as Johnny began to clammer over to his captain who pulled the sheet from his files.
"Ya didn't tell me he was in the room" Simon growled
"Ya didn't ask" Price droned
Johnny's head popped into frame "show me what she looks like ey l.t?"
"Not happening" Simon deadpanned
"Aw c'monnnn" The sergeant whined "just proud of you for finally getting some action!"
"Enough." Simon could see you biting your lip to stifle a laugh out of the corner of his eyes, a curious look in your eyes at his reddened face.
"Sent a picture to ya Simon" Price huffed, letting Johnny give him one last "good luck!" Before hanging up the phone.
You were a mess of giggles as he just shook his head and shoved the phone results in your face for you to look at. "See. Clean."
"Okay okay" you giggled, finally letting his form eclipse you back onto the pillows
"Went through a hell of a lot of trouble for ya, sweet girl" he whispered, nipping at the shell of your ear.
"I'll make it worth it" you said, kissing the corner of his lip and tangling your fingers in the back of his hair
"Christ woman" he groaned, feeling his cock twitch at your promise, "gunna' be the death a' me"
#oh boy here we go again#johnny mactavish x reader#johnny soap mactavish#johnny mactavish#johnny x reader#johhny soap mactavish#soap x you#soap smut#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#gaz x reader#gaz x you#gaz x y/n#gaz smut#kyle garrick x reader#kyle garrick x you#simon riley x you#simon riley#simon riley smut#simon ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost x oc#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost smut#john price#price x reader#price smut#price x you
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imagine you’re dating ghost and no one knows. the two of you have kept it a secret on your end and his just for your protection— because ghost knows what could happen if someone finds out, how someone might try and target you to get to him, or worse, given his line of work.
but then imagine that he’s on a mission, interrogating some piece of filth ready to decorate the fucking wall with his brain matter when the guy says “you know what, simon, killing me would be the biggest mistake of your life.”
immediately ghost would pause, eyes narrowed, though his hardened demeanour wouldn’t fade much, he’d just blankly stare at the prick like “oh yea? n’ why don’ you tell m’ why.”
the shit-eating grin that would crawl across that fuckers lips would have ghost ready to kill him right then and there, but then he’d say “reach in my pocket. pull out my phone.”
id like to think ghost would have absolutely none of this assholes bullshit, not at all entertained by his theatrics. i’d like to think he’d just press the muzzle of his gun to the fuckers temple within an instant, all teeth barred and ready to get it over with when the guy would add,
“your girlfriend is a fucking beauty, isn’t she?”
everything would pause. ghost, time, the world, air, the universe itself—the life that would drain from ghosts face would almost be enough to make his alias a reality. his heart pounding in his throat, his fingers fucking trembling as he immediately reached into the assholes pocket to find his phone—a picture of a woman tied up (face not in view however) lighting up on the home screen. there’d be no thinking rationally, no thoughts in ghosts head except for making sure you were fucking okay. he’d do whatever he’d have to do, kill the guy, leave him strapped there, whatever—he’d be out of that room in two seconds flat and personally flying the helicopter back to your house calling you nonstop every fucking second until you answered.
“hello? si?”
he’d wait a second before answering. taking everything in. background noises, the inflection of your voice. it sounds calm, maybe too calm? he’s grasping his phone so fucking hard it’s a miracle it hasn’t shattered between his fingers.
“princess,” he breathes, fighting with everything in him to keep his voice steady. “see any birds today?”
though it was a genuine question, it also was an established one. ghost had set up a series of questions for a situation precisely like this. if you said blue jay, it meant you were fine, at home, as usual. if you said crows, it meant you weren’t.
“oh just the usual blue jays, si.” he could almost hear the smile on your lips. “everything okay? i miss you.”
ghost would exhale a shattered breath. “i’m coming home.”
and then he’d show up, not all but a few hours later, hands still trembling slightly, heart rate still struggling to regulate. it was too much, reminding him too much of his past traumas, he knew he needed to find better protection for you, but that was a conversation for another time.
he’d come in the house, barely even taking the time to shut the door behind him, almost frenzied again, relentless, unable to relax until he could finally lay eyes on you. and then, the second he did, he’d just pause and look at you, all messy hair and pyjamas still on, in the kitchen cooking breakfast for you both since you knew he was on his way.
and he wouldn’t say a goddamn word, he’d just come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, hugging you so tight you’d hardly be able to breathe, his face buried in your hair and his heart thumping at your back. you’d feel the pain the fear the anxiety radiating off him and you wouldn’t try to say anything because you knew he needed this, you knew he needed to see you, hold you, feel your pulse stable and alive. you knew he just needed a moment to breathe.
and so the two of you would stand there like that for a while, and then he’d take a big inhale and spin you around to face him, pulling up his mask to plant soft kisses on your jaw.
“i love you so fuckin’ much.”
#simon riley imagine#simon riley cod#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x you#simonriley#simon riley#simon#simon riley call of duty#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut#simonrileysmut#ghost smut#simon ghost smut#ghost riley#ghost#ghost cod#task force 141#taskforce141
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rafe finds your panties in his car [smut, jerking off, perv!rafe]
part two
you had an appointment to get your nails done, rafe was at an important business meeting and couldn't take you, since a friend of his was picking him up his car was in the garage, you asked him if you could use his car, and he said yes.
as you get back you parked the car in the garage, turned off the car while picked up the things you had left scattered around the car, putting them back in the bag, and that's where you had an idea.
you thought, rafe had let you use his car by paying for your new set of nails, you had to somehow thank him. a grin grew on your face as you rose slightly from the seat, your hands went under your skirt finding the elastic band of your panties, you grabbed it pushing it down and once you got to your ankles you pulled them completely off. your grin grew even more as you put the lace panties on the gearshift.
after completing your little work of art, you grabbed your purse and keys, opened the door and got out of the car, locking it. you made your way inside the house, the sound of your heels walking on the floor caught his attention.
"hey baby" he greeted you with a smile, getting up from the couch, "rafeyy" you said immediately running into his arms, he pulled you toward him grabbing you by the hips, 4 hours without seeing him was too much for your liking. "how did it go?" he asked with a smile at your clinginess as his hand gently stroked your back, "all good" you replied pulling away from him slightly with a smile, showing him your nails.
"they're perfect baby" he said as he looked at them carefully, he knew you didn’t play about your nails, "i know, aren't they?" you said with a smile turning your hand toward you, looking back at the design for the twentieth time.
you slipped your hand into your jacket pocket pulling out his car keys, "here they are" you said shaking them in front of his face, he grabbed them as you said "thank you so much baby, i love you" you said giving him a kiss, he smiled into the kiss as he whispered "i love you too".
as he deepened the kiss in your head you couldn't help but think of the little surprise you had left for him in the car, just waiting for him to find out. you knew very well that he loved your lingerie, one way or another he was always trying to steal some panties from you so he could keep them when, as he said, “he needed them," and you also knew what for.
the next morning rafe woke up early, he had to attend another business meeting. it was a stressful week, he was full of commitments regarding work finding himself having little time to spend with you. he grabbed the keys of his car as he yawned while heading to the garage, the phone rang in his pocket causing him to sigh as he rolled his eyes, he took it in his hands reading the name of the contact who was calling him, he sighed again deciding to answer it, it was one of the men he was in business with.
"hey, what's up?" said rafe trying to sound as unbothered as possible, the last thing he wanted to do right now was to have a call regarding the various problems that kept coming up. as the man took up the conversation, explaining that business would slow down for reasons he would list for him later, rafe opened the garage door, letting out occasionals little "mhm."
he pulled out his car keys, pressed the button and without looking inside the car opened the door and sat down. "yes, i was aware of that, i just talked to hollis about it yesterday and we both agreed that..." he froze when out of the corner of his eye he saw something white that caught his attention, he shifted his eyes to the mysterious object.
he took a deep breath realizing it was your underwear.
“rafe? are you still there?" the man's voice rang on the other side of the phone, rafe took a few more seconds to look at the piece of underwear and then answered, "y-yeah i'm here sorry, actually i'm kinda busy right now, i'm gonna call you when i'm free" he quickly came up with, wanting to end the call as soon as possible.
"oka-"
before the man could’ve finished rafe immediately hang up. his hands reached out to grab the garment, his fingers rubbed the lace. he looked at the inner part, that was in contact with your pussy, noticing a small wet spot, he didn't think about it for a second and brought the panty closer to his face, his nose made contact with the fabric, inhaling strongly as your smell flooded his nostrils. you just knew how to drive him crazy.
he couldn't help but think about being between your legs as he continued to breathe in your scent, making you feel good as your hands pushed him closer to your pussy, his cock twitching at the thought of having his lips on your wet folds.
as he kept the panties close to his face, with his free hand he quickly untied his belt, unbuttoned his pants pushing them down just enough along with his underwear to get his now semi-hard cock out. his head thought of your sweet taste, your little whimpers when he overstimulated you too much as your smell intoxicated his brain.
with his right hand he began to lightly rub his length, little sounds escaped his lips, muffled by the fabric of your panties. he went further as with his thumb he stroked the tip, pink and swollen, screaming to be inside you, his hand tightened even more around his shaft quickly rubbing the part just below the tip, it drove him crazy.
he kept rubbing as he imagined his hand was yours, little drops of pre cum were coming out of his tip, mixing with his rapidly working hands, creating obscene wet sounds.
his wrist beginning to ache, from how fast he was moving, as he lingered for a few seconds with his thumb, rubbing the tip. he was a mess of moans, his legs twitching as his breathing grew deeper and deeper, his body temperature now crazy.
he moved your panties away from his face and wrapped them around his cock as he resumed rubbing his hard cock with his hand, continuous whimpers escaped his lips as the lace rubbed against the delicate veins of his cock.
"fuuuuck" he breathed, he didn't think he could hold back much longer. he pushed his hips upward as his hand worked up and down his length, his head turned back as continuous moans mixed with cursing escaped his lips.
"h-holy shiit..." he murmured through clenched teeth, the rough fabric of the lace touching the soft tip of his cock made him shudder, his cock throbbing in his hands, eager to cum as soon as possible.
he was in pure ectasy, totally overwhelmed by the pleasure he was experiencing, the only image in his head at that moment was you, and you were helping him finish himself off. "oh y/n please..." he said almost crying, his voice cracked with pleasure as his hand moved even faster down the length, he hadn't even realized he had begged you when you weren't even there.
as his hand tightened around the tip, images of you filled his head, thinking about the way your eyes looked at him every time he thrust into you mercilessly, the way your tits bounced as his body slammed into yours, as his hand grabbed your neck making your eyes roll as he pushed you to the edge, that image was enough to make his cock cum.
"oh fuck me...." he managed to say as his hand moved slower, riding his high, moans and whining came from his lips as he pressed the tip making sure not a drop of his liquid was wasted.
half of it was on his hands, but most of it had ended up on your panties. he let go his grip on his cock, feeling overstimulated as he tried to catch his breath. realization hit him soon after, realizing the 'obscenity of the act he had just performed.
did he regret it? no. had it been one of the best handjobs? yes.
#drew starkey#outer banks#outer banks x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#x reader#drew starkey x reader#smut
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"Si, you owe me a new couch," you half-joke, trying to ease some of the palpable tension in the air, as you sit next to your boyfriend, Simon, on your couch, cleaning the gash on his side with a face cloth.
The poor guy had shown up at your door in the middle of the night with the nastiest gash to his side. It was a superficial cut, so nothing that needed immediate medical attention, but it still bled—a lot
He wouldn't say how he acquired the laceration, but you suspected it couldn't have been good. You kept your assumptions to yourself and have been tending to them for the last five minutes or so.
"I'll buy you any kind you like," he picks his head up from its place on the back of the couch. You catch his eyes boring into the side of your head as you continue cleaning the area, finally looking up to lock eyes with him. The sincerity in his eyes has you letting out a small laugh.
"You don't have to," you murmur as your eyes shift to the gauze to your side. You carefully open a fresh piece, place it on the cut, and secure it with paper tape. You gently press the sides, securing the tape to his skin. "All done. Good boy," you jokingly say, tossing the gauze's empty packaging onto the coffee table in front of you.
You feel his hand grip your chin, pulling you towards his lips. You are slightly taken aback, even making a noise of surprise, but you quickly reciprocate the kiss.
He tasted of Nicorette gum and cigarette smoke with a hint of liquor. You would scowl at him later for the cigarette smell since he had supposedly quit, but right now, you could feel by the way he gripped your face he craved a taste of you.
You raised your hand to grip his jaw, trying to bring him closer. He senses your desire, gripping your hips and swinging you over his legs so you are now straddling him, never once disconnecting his lips from yours.
While you adjust to the new position, your knee grazes his gash, making him grunt into your mouth. You pull back slightly to speak; both of your chests are heaving. "Am I hurting you?" Your brows furrow in concern as you gently bring your hand to rest in his messy hair.
He knots his hand in your hair, lips brushing against yours. "Only if you stop,” he pants, deepening the kiss.
You smile into his lips, gripping his jaw, feeling his teeth clash against your own. One of his hands lingers over your hip once again, kneading the fat of it. The other lingers from your hair to pull down your shirt on your shoulder, revealing your collarbone.
His lips hover over your clavicle, eyes flicking to take note of a new, very small ‘s’ inked into your flesh. He brings his hand up to brush his fingertips over the tattoo.
“You got this for me?” He enunciates the ‘me,’ like it was just so unable to believe you would ever want to taint your skin for him.
“You like it?” You chew on your bottom lip, giddy with anticipation. He leans back against the back of the chair, shifting his torso a little. You let out a slight moan when you feel how hard he is.
“Do you feel that?” He gruffs, gripping your waist and grinding you against his clothed hard-on. You grip his shoulders with each of your hands tightly, hissing through your teeth, “How could I not?”
He leans forward, lips hovering over the shell of your ear so you can feel his hot breath against your skin. “I fuckin’ love it.”
a/n: a little fic just bc it's been a hot sec<3 divider!
#˚ʚ♡ɞ˚: rylea writes#call of duty#cod#cod x reader#fanfic#simon riley#simon ghost riley#ghost#ghost cod#cod mw2#ghost call of duty#simon riley x you#simon riley cod#simon riley imagine#ghost simon riley#simon riley call of duty#simon ghost x reader#simon riley fanfic#ghost x reader#ghost x you#cod ghost#simon riley x reader#call of duty x you#call of duty x reader#call of duty fanfic#call of duty fanfiction#call of duty ghost#call of duty simon riley#call of duty modern warfare
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LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - FOUR
pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of pregnancy; abortion; health risks; insecurities. chapter one┆chapter two┆ chapter three
You were curled up next to Rafe, head on his shirtless chest, listening to the rise and fall of his breath.
You could hear the crash of the waves. His fingers were tangled in your hair, slow and lazy, like he had all the time in the world.
“Do you ever think about the future?” You asked, not even sure why you said it.
Maybe it was the mood, the quiet.
He laughed softly, the sound rumbling through his chest, vibrating against your cheek.
“Future? Baby, we’re in the future right now.” He tilted his head to look down at you, his blue eyes catching the last bits of sunlight, making them almost glow. “What more do we need?”
You rolled your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. “I’m serious. What’s next for us?”
He was quiet for a second, and you held your breath, waiting. Sometimes Rafe had this way of avoiding real talk. He’d joke, or deflect, or turn the conversation back to something easy.
“You,” he said, his voice low like he was confiding you a secret. “You’re what’s next. What’s always next.” His arm tightened around you, pulling you into his lap.
You smiled, that stupid, giddy smile that probably made you look ridiculous, but you didn’t care. His breath tickled your forehead as he kissed you there slowly.
He was so sure in that moment, like nothing could touch you two.
You lifted your head, just enough to look at him.
His face was so clear, each detail spot on, you could reach out and touch it. His messy beach hair, the way it fell into his eyes, his crooked smile, that scar on his chin from when he’d wiped out on his bike in high school.
All of him was yours.
“Promise?” You asked, like a part of you needed to hear it again, needed the reassurance.
Rafe leaned in, his lips grazing yours before he whispered against them, “Promise.”
He had this way of making all feel so simple, like the future wasn’t some big, scary thing.
“I’m never letting you go,” it sounded more like a prayer coming from his lips, fingers tracing small circles on your arm, sending these tiny electric shocks through you. “You’re stuck with me, Thornton.”
“Good.”
But then something changed.
His grip loosened. His warmth started to fade, and you blinked, confused. You lifted your head, trying to find his eyes, but his face was different.
Blurred. Distant.
“Rafe?” You whispered, reaching for him, but he wasn’t there.
The warmth was completely gone, replaced with cold, empty air. You turned, searching for him, but all you saw were shadows where he used to be.
The waves crashed louder, and you realized you were alone. Just like that, everything was gone, everything he promised, was gone.
You sat up in bed, gasping, hands instinctively going to your stomach in the darkness of your bedroom.
He wasn’t here. He was with her. You were alone.
Pregnant.
You tried to stabilize your breathing, wiping away the tears that had slipped out during your sleep. The bed felt too big, empty without him. And the memory of his touch, his words, felt cruel now.
You stared up at the ceiling wondering how a memory could feel so real, so vivid, but that was all it was. Just a memory. Just another piece of the past you kept chasing.
You looked down at your stomach, your hand still resting on the bump, if you could call it that. You weren’t showing at all, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t real. You knew it was.
Your very first appointment was in a few hours, and the thought of it made you want to throw up.
You needed to know how far along you were. It would be easier to stay in bed and let the what ifs spiral in your head than to face them, but you didn’t hold that privilege anymore.
You dragged yourself out of queen-sized bed, avoiding the mirror as you moved around the room.
You didn’t want to see your reflection right now, you dreaded facing the girl who had let herself get into this mess.
You threw on a pair of loose, old sweats and a hoodie, one that swallowed you whole, hiding everything.
The kind of outfit that made you feel invisible, and right now, that’s exactly what you wanted. It’s not like anyone around here cared much anyway, rich girl or not, kooks were experts at pretending.
You grabbed your keys, your phone, and the one thing you couldn’t forget today —courage.
One foot in front of the other. One breath at a time.
The appointment was soon, and you needed to get there. You kept reminding yourself that you’d figure it out once you knew how far along you were, everything would make sense after that.
The drive there was a mess, the anxiety and anger, you didn’t want to acknowledge today were taking turns messing with your head.
You didn’t want to think about how you’d once imagined a future with Rafe, how he’d promised you a lifetime under the sun.
You could never feel guilty about keeping this from him. He’d made his choices, and now you had to make yours.
You rolled up in your car and had to park in the visitor lot, trying to sneak in like you weren’t a whole mess of nerves behind the wheel of a brand-new Range Rover.
It was practically empty, which was fine by you, less people to run into, less eyes on you, since every second you spent there was a second someone could recognize you.
Someone could see, that was the last thing you needed — for this to become some juicy little rumor for the Kildare gossip mill to chew up and spit out.
You pulled your oversized sunglasses lower on your face, hoping they’d hide the fact that you were shaking.
You hated the fact that you were even in this position as you sat there, tapping your foot impatiently, checking the clock every five minutes like it was some kind of countdown to freedom.
Every noise from the hallway made you flinch, like any second someone familiar would burst through the door, see you there.
You winced in horror when your name was called out, following the nurse leading you down a sterile hallway that smelled of antiseptic. You tried to keep your mind off the fact that this was the first step toward the most life-altering decision you’d ever have to make.
"The doctor will be in soon."
Times like these you wished you’d chosen a private clinic, but you had to avoid as many kooks as possible, even if it meant slumming it in this hospital.
This was real.
Sitting down on the exam table, the paper crinkled under you, the sound making you cringe. You felt so small in that room, so alone. You’d always had someone—Rafe, even Topper. But right now, it was just you.
Your legs dangled off the edge of the table as you waited.
It felt like forever before there was a knock on the door, and the doctor entered.
"Hi, I’m Dr. Madison," she greeted you, offering you a smile as she sat down on the stool beside you. "How are you feeling today?"
What the fuck were you supposed to say? That your life was falling apart? That you didn’t know what to do?
So you settled for a, “"I’ve been better," looking anywhere but at her.
She nodded like she understood, she’d most likely heard it all before.
"Alrigh’, we’re just going to take a look and see how far along you are, okay? I’ll need you to lay back."
You did as she said, leaning back against the stiff pillow, trying to relax.
"This is going to be a little cold," she warned as she reached for the ultrasound gel.
A little? You nearly jumped off the table as the gel hit your stomach, cold and slimy, like ice against your skin. You winced but tried to keep still as she spread it over your lower abdomen.
The machine whirred to life, and she placed the probe on your stomach. You sucked in a breath, trying not to cry as the screen lit up with grainy images.
She moved the probe slowly, methodically, her eyes glued to the monitor, and you couldn’t breathe.
You forced your eyes to the ceiling, refusing to look at the monito, refusing to see. You couldn’t let yourself get attached, not like that.
If you saw what was on that screen—if you saw the shape of something, anything—it would kill you. Your breaths were shallow, and your fingers clenched the sides of the exam table, gripping the paper until it tore under your hands.
Dr. Madison was quiet as she moved the probe over your skin, you knew she was seeing something. You could hear the beeping of the machine, the faint hum of the monitor.
"Okay. Looks like you’re about thirteen weeks along."
"How long is that?"
"Almost 3 months, give or take."
No, that couldn’t be right, you’d barely felt any different.
You were at thirteen weeks. Just over the line.
You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry.
"Thirteen?" you repeated, like maybe if you said it out loud, it would make more sense. But it didn’t.
"Alright," you told her, voice even, like that number wasn’t echoing in your head, smashing through the calm you’d been faking this whole time.
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Madison eyes scanned your face, probably trying to gauge how much of this you were even absorbing. “I know this is a lot to take in.”
A lot? That didn’t even begin to cover it.
The doctor cleared her throat gently. “In North Carolina, after twelve weeks, the options for termination become much more limited unless it falls under specific conditions like rape, incest, or a fetal anomaly. I know this might be overwhelming, but I’m here to walk you through what’s possible.”
You nodded, but it was a lie. You weren’t hearing any of it, you were already listing other possibilities, another place.
Your mind was a step ahead, planning out the details, flights, or maybe driving. Somewhere where no one would ask questions, where you could walk in and get this over with.
Just slip away for a couple days.
She kept talking, saying something about other options, but you weren’t hearing it. It sent your heart into a stampede.
"Thanks, Doctor," you said when you realized she was done speaking, your voice perfectly polite, perfectly controlled.
It felt like you were watching someone else speak.
You were nodding like you understood like you had a plan. Inside? You were screaming. Your thoughts were a mess, colliding into each other—Oh my God, what now, what the fuck are you going to do? So much more work just because you were stupid enough to wait.
Dr. Madison gave you this list—appointments to schedule, things you should and shouldn’t do, prenatal vitamins to pick up. She might as well have been speaking a different language for all you heard.
You mumbled something that sounded like “thanks” as she handed you the prescription, barely glancing at the paper.
“Is there really nothing I can do?”
You couldn't confide your plans to her, for obvious reasons.
“I can’t advocate for any illegal options, but I understand your concern. If you were just a week earlier, we could have discussed a simple outpatient procedure. However, now you’re facing a more complex situation.”
You never felt so frustrated in your life, “But I’m—I can get you anything. You don’t understand, I can pay—”
“Miss Thornton,” she interrupted, her voice firm yet sympathetic, “I know you’re not trying to bribe me right now. I need you to understand that legality and ethics come into play here. What you’re suggesting isn’t something I can support or even discuss further. We have to work within the framework of the law.”
You bit your tongue, resisting the temptation to lash out at her.
“So that’s it, then? I’m just supposed to accept that I’m stuck with this?”
“There are still options we can explore together. We can discuss what’s next in terms of prenatal care, adoption, or even resources that might help you if you choose to carry the pregnancy to term. But I can’t ignore the fact that you’re beyond the legal limit for a straightforward abortion.”
You blinked rapidly, “Adoption?”
The idea of keeping the baby made your stomach bend into a different shape, but that alternative felt just as wrong.
She looked at you with genuine empathy.
“I understand that this is overwhelming. The decision is ultimately yours, but I need to emphasize that time is of the essence, and the choices you make today will have lasting implications.”
Then she was gone, leaving you alone in that sterile room with your head spinning.
You couldn’t even fucking remember the last time you felt normal. Now, you were staring down the barrel of a pregnancy you didn’t even know was this far along. The doctor’s speech about vitamins, checkups, and avoiding alcohol bounced off around in your head.
You swallowed down the nausea that had nothing to do with morning sickness, grabbed your purse, and walked out like nothing had just changed.
You shoved the papers into your purse without a second thought, your mind already screaming to get out, to run, to go somewhere.
Anywhere but here.
As you walked out into the waiting area, you spotted a mother with her toddler, the kid giggling and playing with his toys. Would your baby be that happy? Would they giggle like that?
No, no, you couldn’t go there.
Your fingers were numb as they fumbled for your keys, and you somehow managed to get into the Rover.
The second the door slammed shut, the tears you’d been restraining started to fall.
All you could think about was getting far, far away from here, somewhere no one would recognize you, where people didn’t know your last name or expect you to show up to some debutante ball with a well-behaved husband, a kid on each arm, perfectly polished.
"Fuck..." you whispered through clenched teeth, squeezing your eyes shut like maybe that could make it stop. But it didn’t. Your whole body was trembling, hands shaking so hard you couldn't hold the wheel right.
You leaned your forehead against the steering wheel, trying to catch your breath.
Thirteen weeks.
You couldn’t stay here, in this parking lot. You needed to go somewhere safe, somewhere that made sense. You needed them.
Without really thinking, you turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the lot.
You didn’t even know where you were going at first, your body knew, the same familiar route you’d taken too many times. You didn’t realize where you were going at first, but once you passed the last stoplight before the cemetery, it hit you.
You parked haphazardly, not caring if your car was straight or if anyone saw. This was the only place you could think of. The only place that wasn’t ruined by all the mess in your life.
Your parents. Your sister.
Their graves were tucked away in the back corner, under the big oak tree that had been there for as long as you could remember. You parked the car and got out, the ground crunching under your feet as you made your way to them.
You sank to your knees in front of their headstones, your fingers brushing against the cool marble as if touching them could somehow make them feel closer. They’d been gone for five years, and no matter how many times you came here, that fact never got easier to swallow.
“I don’t know what to do,” you choked out, stopping to bite down on your bottom lip hard to keep from completely breaking down. “I’m so... I’m so fucking lost.”
The wind rustled the leaves above you, and for a second, you wished it would just take you away too. Make everything disappear.
“I’m pregnant.” You spit the words out, voice cracking, like admitting it was burning your throat. “Thirteen weeks,” you added, saying it out loud for the first time. Your hands curled into fists, fingers digging into the grass.
The tears came back, harder this time, and you bent forward, clutching your stomach, forehead pressing into the ground as if you could just bury yourself there.
“I can’t—I can’t do this alone. I don’t know how to do this without you.”
Your voice broke completely, turning into a sob that you couldn’t stop. You were crying so hard you couldn’t even breathe, gasping, like you were drowning in it.
“Why aren’t you here?” you cried, “Why did you leave me? Why did you—” but the words caught in your throat, turning into another round of weeping.
You stayed for a long time, curled up on the ground, crying so hard it hurt, until the tears finally slowed, until you felt empty, drained.
Afterwards, you sat back, wiping at your swollen eyes with the back of your hand.
“I’m pregnant,” you repeated, this time softer, “And I can’t... I can’t tell him. He’s with her, and I—I just can’t.”
You sniffed, cleaning your nose with your sleeve, feeling ridiculous and broken all at once.
Your breath hitched again as you forced yourself to stand up, even though every part of you wanted to collapse back onto the ground.
They were gone, it was just you. Alone. You think that’s why there was this tiny persistent voice in the back of your brain whispering things you weren’t ready to hear.
This was a chance, wasn’t it? To finally have someone again, someone you didn’t have to say goodbye to.
The second the thought crossed your mind, you felt a gush of panic, a nauseating conviction that you were nowhere near capable of raising a child. You barely remembered to take care of yourself, so how could you possibly take care of a baby?
It felt so fucked up to you, to think this could be a “fresh start” or something like it—no, you weren’t naïve enough to believe that. Not when you’d barely coped to get through the last five years.
You remembered the doctor’s voice, factual, mentioning adoption.
Carrying this baby only to hand it over to someone else—someone who might be better equipped—Could you do that? Carry a piece of your family’s future, only to give it away? It felt wrong.
You were halfway to your car, still wiping the tears from your face, when you heard someone call your name.
“Hey... Is that you?”
You froze. The last thing you wanted was to run into someone, especially now. Not here, not like this.
Turning slowly, you saw her — Sarah Cameron, Rafe’s sister — standing by her mom’s grave.
She was holding a bouquet of wildflowers, brown eyes narrowing as she took you in. She looked like she'd been here a while, but the moment she saw your state, she dropped what she came here to do.
"Oh my God, are you okay?" she asked, her voice rising with worry.
Her eyes, so different from Rafe’s, scanned over you, taking in your bloodshot eyes, the messy hair, the way your clothes were dirty from sitting on the ground too long.
You hadn’t taken sides when her and Topper split up; you’d just known, deep down, that they weren’t right for each other. He had this stubborn, idealized version of her that she could never live up to, and that had been the beginning of the end.
You opened your mouth to say something, to tell her you were fine, that you didn’t need her sympathy right now. Instead, you just stood there like a fucking idiot, eyes wide, as Sarah dropped the flowers and rushed to your side.
“Hey, hey,” she panicked, as if she was talking to a wounded animal. “What happened? What’s going on?”
Sarah touched your arm gently, and that’s when it hit you, the fear, the panic, the loneliness — it overwhelmed you.
Without thinking, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around her, holding on tight.
You didn’t even care how desperate it looked, how messed up you were right now. You just needed someone.
She froze for a split second, caught off guard, but then she softened, her arms wrapping around you tightly. She was warm, solid, and so there, and the moment she hugged you back, the floodgates opened for the millionth time that week.
You started crying again, silent but hard, your face buried in her shoulder as your whole body shook.
Sarah didn’t say anything; didn’t ask questions, just focused on holding you tighter, her hand smoothing over your back like she was trying to calm you down. The kindness of it, the warmth,you hadn’t grasped how much you needed it until right now.
“Shh, it’s okay,” her voice was soothing. “I’ve got you. Just breathe.”
You hadn’t seen her in months — not since everything went down with her and Rafe after Ward died.
The whole family had fallen apart after that.
Sarah had cut ties again, another fallout with Rafe. Things between them were always like a ticking time bomb, and Ward’s death had blown everything wide open. You knew they hadn’t been on speaking terms since.
It made this moment even weirder, seeing her here, of all places. She looked different, too, she was carrying her grief, her pain, that wild spark in her eyes a little more dim than you remembered.
As you pulled away from the hug, you blinked through the tears, and her face came back into focus. She was still looking at you, her brows knitted with worry, the wildflowers she’d brought for her mom now forgotten on the ground behind her.
She looked like she was about to ask a million questions, but she was waiting for you to speak first.
“I didn’t know you’d be here,” you finally said something, trying to wipe your face with the sleeve of your hoodie. It was a lame thing to say, but you couldn’t find any better words.
Sarah gave a small, sad smile, shrugging a little.
“Yeah, I just… I come here sometimes. To see my mom.” Her voice was quieter than usual, and you could hear the strain behind it, “I guess I needed it today.”
You understood the feeling all too well.
You both stood there for a moment, just looking at each other, and you could tell she was dying to ask why you were here. Why you looked like you’d just been rolling around in the dirt.
Instead, she said, “You okay? I mean, really?”
In some weird way, you’d always thought you’d be able to keep this part of yourself locked away, hidden and safe where no one could see it
“I’m fine,” you mumbled, the lie slipping out too easily. “Just… rough day, you know?” Your voice was hoarse, still shaky from the crying.
Sarah frowned, not convinced. She stepped closer, her hand hovering near your arm like she wanted to touch you but wasn’t sure if you’d let her.
"You sure? You don’t look fine."
You forced a smile, “Yeah, I’m good. Just needed some air. It’s been a lot.” You didn’t want to get into it, didn’t want to unload everything.
She sighed, her shoulders slumping just a little.
“Okay. But… you know if you ever need to talk to someone, I’m here, right?”
You blinked, not really sure how to answer to that, nodding away, hoping she’d drop it.
“I know I was just Rafe’s little sister,” she continued with pursed lips, “but you’ve always been like a big sister to me. Okay? Him being an asshole to both of us doesn’t change that. Ever.”
You could see she meant it. This wasn’t just some passing offer out of pity, Sarah was genuinely worried, wanting to be there for you.
You just nodded dumbly.
Sarah smiled softly with that same old Cameron determination. “Seriously. Whatever’s going on, I’m here.”
You stepped back, breaking the small bubble of comfort, you didn’t even realize you’d let her create.
“I should probably go,” you awkwardly muttered, brushing your hair out of your face and trying to straighten out your hoodie like that could somehow make you seem more put together. “But thanks, Sarah. Really.”
She just watched you with that worried look still across her face, but then she nodded. “Anytime.”
You turned to leave, feeling her eyes on your back as you walked away, your steps slow on the grass.
The loneliness had been suffocating, and even though you didn’t tell her anything, just hearing Sarah say she was there, that she still saw you as family—it meant more than you wanted to admit.
It wasn’t like anything was magically better.
You used to think this island would keep you safe forever, that it was big enough to hold your problems.
Now, it felt like it was shrinking around you.
You were curled up on the couch, laptop balanced on your knees.
You’d googled “abortion options United States,” expecting answers, but all you found were long lists of restrictions, rules, states drawing hard lines.
You already knew that in North Carolina, you were already past the point of no return. So you kept digging, checking every single state until you found one, a random thread on some forum, that talked about New Mexico.
No restrictions on timing.
You scrolled, following link after link, getting deep into some Reddit threads, reading accounts from women who’d done it, who’d had to pack up their whole lives, fly out, handle everything on their own.
No one to tell, just a flight, a few days’ stay in a place that looked nothing like home, just to try and get back to normal. The whole time you were reading, this weird sense of relief and fear entwined in your gut.
So you can get out of this.
By the time you shut your laptop, your head was pounding but at least you had something that felt like a plan.
The next morning, you woke up before the sun, tossing on yesterday’s clothes and brushing your hair as best you could with one hand. You scrolled through the numbers you’d scribbled down last night and dialed the first one.
You had to it straight away, without a chance of backing out. So you closed your eyes with all your might and hit call.
A woman’s voice picked up on the fourth ring.
“Women’s Health Center, this is Amanda. How can I help you?”
You cleared your throat, trying to sound normal. Like you weren’t shaking like a leaf.
“Hi. Um, I’m calling to see about scheduling… an appointment. I’m about thirteen weeks.”
“We do have availability. Our next spot is ten days from now.”
Ten days. Shit. Could you wait that long, or was that too soon? Shouldn't you think about it some more?
Maybe you needed more time.
Or maybe you shouldn’t be doing this at all.
You were already running through a hundred different what-ifs, a panicked mental list of everything you hadn’t thought through.
“Is that… is that the soonest?” You surprised yourself by asking.
There was a pause on the other end, and you could hear the kindness in Amanda’s voice.
“Yes, it’s our first available spot for a procedure beyond twelve weeks,” she informed you, “We’d also want to complete a few assessments with you, along with some necessary paperwork and counseling. I can walk you through everything if that helps.”
You nodded automatically, realizing a second too late she couldn’t see you. “Yeah… yeah, okay.”
“I’ll go over a few things with you, so you’re prepared. Do you have a pen handy?”
You grabbed a random envelope and pen from the countertop, jotting down every detail.
“You’ll need a form of ID, proof of residency—we’re required to check for that. Some basic insurance information if you have it. You’ll also have some health assessments here when you arrive, mostly standard but including a psychological evaluation just to ensure everything’s covered from a health perspective.”
It was all just words, logistics. You weren't exactly processing the information, just robotically writing it down.
“There’s also a mandatory counseling session we’ll need to go through. In case you have questions, or concerns. This will all be confidential, but it’s for your safety, both physically and emotionally.”
“Right,” you said, just to say something. You didn’t know if you even wanted to talk about it, not with her or anyone. You just wanted this to be over with.
“The procedure itself is straightforward, but it’s still a surgery. It’ll last anywhere from 10 to 20 minutes, with a little more time afterward for recovery. We’ll go over any complications with you once you’re here—risk of infection, bleeding, discomfort. We make sure you’re clear on what to expect before anything happens.”
You forced yourself to nod, then remembered she couldn’t see you. “Got it. I’ll—yeah, I’ll get the paperwork together.”
"Just one last thing," Amanda added, "Given the nature of the procedure, we ask that you bring a companion along, someone to stay with you. They don’t have to be in the room, of course, but they’ll need to be present to help you get back safely after."
Your hand stopped. A companion?
"What?"
The small sense of peace was gone in a heartbeat.
You wanted to tell her that it would be fine, you’d figure it out, because, rationally speaking, who could you ask or who would you even trust with this?
"It's a requirement,” Amanda clarified, “For your safety. You’ll need someone there with you. It’s non-negotiable.”
“Right. So, like… a friend? Or…” You trailed off, trying to hide the fear overcoming your senses.
“Exactly,” she said. “A friend, a family member—just someone you’re comfortable with. It’s standard procedure for anything this involved.”
A friend. Family. Someone who could sit in that waiting room and just… know everything. You didn’t even have anyone who could know you were pregnant, let alone be with you for this.
“The total will be around $3,500, which we typically split into a down payment and a final balance due at the time of the procedure. We can take payment in cash, card, or even a wire transfer if you need that flexibility. We’ll also require a 20% deposit to hold your spot, which you can pay over the phone now or through our secure online portal.”
You glanced at the envelope where you’d jotted down notes, biting your lip as you stared at the numbers. “Right, um, yeah, I can do the deposit now.”
“That’s perfect. One moment, please.” There was a click as she transferred you, and while you waited, you blinked down at the deposit amount.
Seven hundred, you thought. Seven hundred dollars just to hold a place. It was nothing to you and yet it felt monumental.
A robotic voice greeted you, and you keyed in the card information, watching the screen as it processed. The payment cleared, and you felt the strangest sense of finality.
It was real, stamped and sealed.
Amanda returned to the line, “Thank you for taking care of that. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
“No, that's all. Thank you."
“Of course. We’ll see you in ten days.”
Now you were at this god for saken country club brunch. Why you even came, you had no idea.
Maybe it was a pathetic attempt to feel normal.
You were trying so hard to look casual, like you hadn’t just been on the phone with a stranger, scheduling the most personal appointment of your life.
Thankfully, Ruthie had canceled last minute — some emergency with your cousin, no doubt. Small miracles. The last thing you needed was her crazy ass analyzing everything you did.
The spread of food on the table looked like a minefield of smells.
Just the sight of the eggs benedict made you want to hurl on your seat, and the fruity smell of the mimosas wafting through the air was…torture.
You’d kill for a sip, maybe even two.
You were watching the sunlight catch on the bubbles, sparkling like they were tauting you. The craving was there, whispering thoughts that felt equal parts impossible and unavoidable. The idea hovered, tempting you with a cruel promise.
A few mimosas could maybe make this go away, couldn't it? Maybe you’d get lucky and this nightmare would just end on its own.
But the thought made you sick.
You could almost feel it, this new life clinging to you, sticking around no matter how much you wished it’d leave. There was some echo of a moral sense—some annoying, reasonable, voice within your head that wouldn’t let you grab the damn mimosa even though your fingers were twitching for it.
What was the problem if you were getting rid of it anyway?
You forced yourself to look away from the mimosas, knowing that just one glass might make you feel something—anything—other than this sick dread.
With an effort, you forced yourself to say, “Water, please.”
Of course, the universe just had to have its laugh, because the one bringing it wasn’t just any waiter.
It was Sofia.
How come everyone got a break from shitty things happening to them, and you didn’t?
You must’ve been really awful in your past life.
Perhaps you were one of those medieval villains who ordered people to be drawn and quartered, or some spoiled empress tossing servants into dungeons for looking at you wrong.
How else could you explain it? Life kept pilling more shit on top of you. Or maybe it was less about karma and more about some fucked up endurance test. You were still here.
Rafe’s latest… girlfriend? Hookup? Whatever the hell they were, she had that title, and now she was in front of you, all fresh-faced, her apron hugging her like she’d just walked out of some pinterest brunch board.
Her hair was pulled back in this cute little bun, and her face held that perfectly innocent smile that made you want to scream.
She was practically glowing.
Her skin had that effortless, sun-kissed warmth like she’d just gotten back from the Maldives or something. Not a shadow under her eyes, not a single stray hair — just this easy, perfect beauty that looked even more surreal under the soft morning sunlight.
It was ridiculous.
Meanwhile, you felt like a mess. Dark circles, a slight breakout on your chin, and an overall look of someone who hadn’t slept in… weeks? or was it months?
The last good night before nausea became a part of your daily life, and the constant anxiety kept you up at all hours, staring at the ceiling and wishing it’d all just disappear.
And here she was, gliding around like she was untouched by anything so messy, so…human.
You glanced down at your outfit, the pristine, tailored Miu Miu set from the new collection —the cropped blazer was light and airy, perfectly cinched at the waist, with sleeves just long enough to make it feel sophisticated but breezy, paired with a sleek, high-waisted mini skirt, the whole ensemble skimmed your frame effortlessly, made just for you.
You knew you looked expensive, the kind of look people envied, even if they’d never admit it.
Every stitch, every button on this outfit screamed privilege and class, and yet here you were feeling like some tragic, half-dead version of the old you.
Why the fuck were you even comparing yourself to her? She was still a pogue, for god’s sake.
Rafe’s latest toy or project or whatever, you had no business even wasting brain cells on her. So what if she looked a little too chipper, too perfect?
She wasn’t worth the mental energy.
Just as you forced yourself to refocus, Sofia reappeared, setting a glass of water in front of you with that same innocent, syrupy smile.
“Here’s your water,” she chirped.
You hated that sound.
She didn't look or sound in-your-face or territorial, more salt on an open wound.
Just hours ago, you were piecing together plans to get rid of the very thing that tied you to Rafe, and now here she was.
You gave the glass a pointed look and then raised your eyes to meet hers. “I asked with ice.”
No, you didn’t.
You were supposed to be above this kind of petty bullshit, weren’t you? But the bitterness rooted in your gut like the mimosas you wanted so desperately.
“Oh?” Her face froze, that little smile twitching just a bit. “You did? I must’ve heard wrong. I’ll be right back with it.” She looked genuinely flustered as she turned to head back to the bar, her apron fluttering behind her.
You caught yourself feeling the tiniest bit pathetic.
An unspoken vendetta against the girl serving water? Really? You almost felt a little ridiculous… almost.
“Oh, beautiful girl!”
It was Mrs. Aldridge, an old friend of your mother’s, all pearls and Chanel, her wrinkled hands wrapped around her mimosa.
“How’s your darling Rafe? I haven’t seen you two in ages!”
Instead of thinking better about it, your eyes slid over to Sofia.
She was setting the glass down, her face draining of color, frozen mid-action like a deer caught in headlights. It was almost too perfect.
You were gonna have fun with this, putting on your best sympathetic casually as if you’d had this conversation a hundred times.
“Oh, we’re not together anymore,” you said, tone dripping with faux sweetness as you nodded in Sofia’s direction. “She is.”
Mrs. Aldridge’s eyes widened, almost bulging out of her head as she followed your gaze, putting two and two together with the slow, scandalized horror that only old-money kooks could manage.
You could hear her brain struggling to comprehend the fact that Rafe Cameron was now involved with the server.
The other women at the table leaned in, whispering behind manicured hands and designer sunglasses, eyebrows shooting up as they stole obvious glances at Sofia.
She was still standing there, stunned, her mouth opening like she wanted to say something. You half-expected her to look annoyed, maybe give you the scathing glare you’d be giving her all morning.
Instead she looked like she wanted to disappear into the woodwork.
“Oh dear…” Mrs. Aldridge’s voice trailed off, her eyes scanning her from head to toe with the kind of judgmental precision only years of country club experience could bring.
She cleared her throat as if she could somehow undo the fact that the help had captured Rafe Cameron’s attention.
“I suppose he’s… rebelling, then?” Another old lady muttered, eyebrows raised in suspicion, already delighted by the gossip forming on her tongue.
You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Who knows? That’s Rafe for you.”
You took a sip of your water, feeling satisfied as murmurs spread across the table, surprise and judgment all directed squarely at Rafe and Sofia, who looked like she might faint on the spot.
You couldn’t lie — it was the most fun you’d had in weeks.
“Such a sweet girl,” Mrs. Aldridge mused, her gaze fixed on Sofia, who was now engaging another table with her bubbly personality. “But bless her heart, she doesn’t quite belong here.”
“Definitely not,” you clicked your tongue, allowing the disdain to seep into your voice, even as a small part of you felt like a spineless bitch for feeding her to the sharks.
“New money, if you ask me. I can’t take them seriously. Remember when Ward was just a pogue with big dreams, trying to make a name for himself.”
You saw her again, just a gimplse of her still taking orders with that big grin, still doing her job.
This was exactly what you’d wanted, right?
To see her squirm in her hand-me-down shoes, to show her the world she’d trespassed on wasn’t as welcoming as she might have believed.
But your conscience decided to make an apperance, one more time, slipping in with a knowing sigh. You wanted to hurt Rafe, not her.
This was cruelty, plain and simple, the girl was only trying to survive.
She was dealing with these judgmental eyes and assumptions, probably used to being reminded that she didn’t belong, that she didn’t measure up, and you were sinking to that same level of entitlement and superiority.
The satisfaction wasn’t as sweet as you’d thought it would be. Dragging her into it was cheap, easy, like pushing someone off balance simply because they happened to be standing there.
You forced a giggle to match the others, playing the charade, but inside, something started to feel uncomfortable. You knew what it was like to be scrutinized, to have them pick you apart, to whisper behind your back.
You remembered how much it hurt.
To these people, you were only steps away from that same old judgment. If they knew about the appointment...their conservatives asses would ruin your reputation.
They’d tear into you in the same way, a scandal spread in manicured lawns and private golf courses.
Mrs. Aldridge leaned in conspiratorially, her aged perfume filling the air. “If he truly cared for her, he wouldn’t be making a fool of himself like this.” She sighed, looking at you like she expected you to agree.
You took a breath, one that felt painful, because were you really about to do this shit?
“It’s Rafe’s life,” you replied, shrugging. “Maybe she makes him happy. Who knows?”
The table quieted, a few eyebrows raised, flabbergasted that you hadn’t indulged in more snide remarks. At the end of the day, the life you wanted — it wasn’t this.
Maybe it was time to let some of it go.
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Death must be so beautiful.
To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head, and listen to silence
To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow.
To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace.
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;"
Co-created with @magnusbae ♡ Quote by Sylvia Plath.
#This quote would not release me. Simply did not let me go. I know it could have been kept and used in a future work but....#I had to. I simply had to. It fits this piece like a literal glove.#I adore the way you've made Anakin's face be so peaceful‚ so lovely in its rest.#Finally he is getting a break from it all. Regardless of the circumstances‚ this is still such a beautiful sight.#I love how in certain window-sizes when you open this art in full size‚#it'll be big enough to hide away all the rest and only leave his sleeping form. Ah. How lovely.#Tumblr had hated me trying to use soft line-downs with so much formatting on top of them. So some of the formatting comes off randomly...#I had given up the moment it permitted me to even save. LOL.#Magnus Mayhem Art#buns.d#buns.all#anakin#sw art#memory moth#i really should remember to tag those with it....#star wars#holy--- the way tumblr chewed it up and spit it the moment i posted XD had to emergency private and format it again... praying.#Darth Vader
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“𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭”
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: ex-boyfriend!geto, fuck machine with a dildo that has a knot, begging/yearning/praise/confessions/he’s a little condescending/teases you, bondage, overstimulation, squirting, lighting pussy eating, suguru’s tongue is pierced, making out, biting, light size kink, he calls you lil mama, love and beautiful, pussy drunk/love drunk suguru is a desperate sap for you in this one who really wants you back
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧! 'I can take care of you. you won't need anyone but me' with possessive Geto, please🙏
Fey; she is finally here! I hope y'all enjoy! @ryomance I made myself tear up a little but then again I'm a cry baby, idk he’s had me with this one I would be swooning and giving him little pieces of my heart
The door slides open letting light flood into the dark sex room. You blink a few times adjusting to the dim golden light. “Suguru, please!” You’re desperately beg for his attention.
Suguru’s cock ache at the sight. Just knowing he had you tied up in the other room waiting for him to give you attention kept him hard for the past hour.
The machine is bullying your puffy, sore, dripping wet cunt with a fat dildo. It’s knot is too fat tugging your cunt on the way out. You jolt when the machine mercilessly stuffs it back in.
Franticly pleading, “Sug-ruuuunnn!” Writhing rubbing against the rope. Your attempts to twist your hips away from the relentless toy is pathetic. The knot spits your cunt wide open, your body jolts, pussy spasming, and thighs quiver.
You’re drooling over how Suguru’s heavy cock sways when he walks. You want to feel him so badly the toy is too much but it's not Suguru. It’s not his fat cock, you’ve missed how he fills and splits you open with his big heavy cock.
Suguru’s silence is crushing, you cheeks burn as you beg, “Please touch me!” His cock throbs from how sloppy wet your squelching cunt sounds when the dildo sinks in deep.
Your whines are so needy and pitiful. His cock aches with the need to feel you spasming, soaking and gripping his cock. It’s maddening.
His lips curl into a cold, sadistic smirk. After three years of regretful yearning it took date crashing and some flirting to get you back to his apartment where he could tie you up.
If you can't walk straight in the morning you'll have to stay and recover in his bed. Giving him some more time for round two so he can memorize how your pussy soaks and grips his cock. That’s all he needs, just a little more time hearing you cry, moan and whimper his name like your his needy slut.
His gaze warms with a hungry intense passion as he admires you. Suguru is starving and you’re tied up, legs spread serving your cunt to him. “‘S beautiful. You’re here in front of me and I miss you still. I miss the love in your eyes when you looked at me.”
Suguru could use and fuck you however he wants for tonight only and then you’re losing his number again. You just really need his thick cock filling your needy cunt up. You won't fall for his words.
Any harshness to your tone falters to a pathetic whine, “I didn't miss you that much!!!” Tilting your head back, thick tears trickle down your face. You’re cumming too hard, squirting on the toy your swollen pussy dripping, quivering, and tightly gripping the dildo you wish was Suguru’s cock instead.
Suguru stands behind you, the top of your head reaching his chest. It’s so condescending how he looks down at you insisting, “I've missed seeing you squirt, I wish it was on my cock, see its not hard to be honest with yourself.” Kissing the top of your head, “But I guess you can lie to yourself all you want.”
Leaning down, lowering his voice, “I'm curious since you didn't miss me that much why are you here?” He’s mocking you, toying with you still after he left you at the mercy of his fucking fuck machine. The thing had you begging god for mercy in between your loud sobs.
You’re so vulnerable, soft and squishy, so beautiful. The tightness of the rope highlighting the soft fat of your thighs as it pudges.
Reminding yourself, “To cum! Nnnnnothing more! We aren't talking anymore after this!” The suddenness in which he stops touching you in jarring.
Suguru twists your words against you. “You’re only here to cum? Wellll since you’ve done just that beautiful.” The machine stops with a mash of a button, “I’ll untie you, after aftercare you can leave.” Half of the dildo is splitting your swollen cunt open.
You franticly complain, “What? But I thought?!” You’re words falter into needy cries when he wheels the machines back, gliding the toy out.
Suguru groans admiring what a gapping, swollen, dripping wet mess your pussy has become. It’s taking everything within him to restraint himself from splitting your puffy pussy open.
Reiterating, “You wanted to cum, you didn't just that, you don't need me or my cock right? That’s not what you’re here for.” He grabs the rope above your head, leaning in close with a cruel smirk, “Unless you have something you want to tell me.”
Closing your eyes, “….I want you.”
It’s not enough.
Feigning dumb Suguru tilts his head to the side, furrowing his thin brows. “Want me to what? Be a good girl look me in eyes while you’re begging for me.” Looking into his warm dark brown eyes. The passion in his dark chocolate brown eyes makes your heart flutter.
Suguru croons, “Tell me lil mama what you need.” His gaze softens, cupping your cheek. Slowly dragging his large thumb across your cheek, whilst leaning in close. You can’t look anywhere but Suguru’s beautiful face.
Your bound body flushes with heat. “Fuck me! Please I need you! I’ve missed your stupidly fat cock.” His in soft lips curling in a gentle playful smile.
It’s still not enough. Your pretty, gentle pleas aren’t enough, he needs to hear you scream it whilst he’s fucking you.
He steps back and your face drops with disappointment as you plea, “Please! Fuck me, please Suguru!” Your brows pinch with frustration and your beautiful eyes glisten with tearful desperation.
Walking to his dresser of toys, he pulls a draw open and shifts through its contents. You can’t look away, his beautiful broad shoulders, slim waist, and a bubbly ass are captivating
Suguru encourages you whilst looking through part of his collection. “You can beg better than that, don’t tell me you forgot what I fucked into your beautiful head three years ago.” You can hear the coy smirk in his soft voice that barely conceals his anger.
“I don’t want a toy, I want you to untie me so I can run my fingers through your hair, scratch your back and feel you up while you fuck me.” Suguru turns around, caught in his gaze the last words slip off your tongue like honey. “I miss…how it feels to cum on your cock.”
Suguru croons, “Aww that can’t be the only thing you miss about me?” Walking over to untie you. There are too many thing about him you’ve spent countless nights missing.
You glaring up at him, “Why should I miss someone who shoved me away and emotionally shut down when he was with me?” This is messy, but you’re willing to argue and fuck with your too hot for your own good ex.
Suguru carefully unties you, rubbing his thumb over where the rope left marks. “I was a self sabotaging asshole, let me show you how I’ve changed.” Your legs wobble when they touch the floor, whilst your stiff shoulders ache.
Suguru sweeps you off feet cradling you to his chest. You hate how safe and warm it feels when he holds you. Even more than you hate how you want to kiss his chest.
Reminding yourself by grumbling aloud, “Was? You’re definitely still out here sabotaging people’s dates.”
Proudly smiling, “And I would do it again, he couldn’t make you smile, laugh and cum like I can. I can take care of you,” Suguru carries you out of the room and down the hallway towards a cracked open dark wooden door.
Suguru nudges the door open with his foot showing you his bedroom lit by an arrangement of various long and short thin white candles. With rose petals scattered along his light gray sheets, his dark bedspread folded neatly at the bottom of the oversized bed.
You can't give it to him so remark, “Rose petals? Candles? It’s almost romantic.” You hate how it’s working, how your heart flutters at the sight. Quickly you try to sour it. “Seems you have this on hand for just any women you bring home.”
He carefully sets you on the bed, the rose petals soft like his bedsheets. It smell like body wash, you briefly think of all the nights he’s laid in bed after a shower. His naked body stretched out on the sheets your laying on.
Suguru’s cheeks flush pink as he admits, “Nope I use the rose petals and candles for my baths still. It reminded me of you so I didn’t stop when we broke up.” He’s slowly looking you up and down, like he’s trying to memorize the sight of you in his bed.
He stands up admiring you on his bed, the smirk on his face softens to a gentle wishful smile. The passionate yearning in his dark chocolate eyes crushes your resolve for this to be the last time you see him.
In the flickering candle light Suguru is careful balance of romantically beautiful and rugged handsome in the the flickering candle light. His arms flex when he fixes his hair in a bun, and your cunt clenches at the sight
You can’t stop yourself from spitting in residual hurt. “I stopped cause it reminded me too much of you. And I miss you, you’re an asshole, I hate that I miss you.” He climbs onto the bed spreading your legs apart and dipping his head between your legs.
You have to use both hands to keep his long thick hair back. He groans dragging his soft tongue between your legs. The hard warm metal ball of his tongue piercing when it presses against your clit makes you writhe in intense pleasure.
“Ohhhhh fuck that feels nnnn!” Tilting your head back, loudly moaning his name.
Suguru swipes his tongue over your clit two more times then gives her a sloppy loud kiss. “I hate me too for it,” Grabbing his fat cock and nudging your soft lips. “But I can’t change the past, what I can do is spend the rest of my life showing you how in love with you I’ve always been if you let me.” It’s dangerous to be caught in his intense loving gaze. Who are you kidding it was dangerous to get up and leave with him, the moment you stood up from that dinner table your fate was sealed.
He leans down, and you swipe his hair to one side, it fall next to your face. Spreading your fingers on his chest, fondling his thick hard pecs, fuck he’s so handsome with his broad muscular chest.
You whine “Fuck me! Suguru!” Slowly dragging his cock up along your wet slit to rub your soft wet clit with his cock head. He so observant, memorizing the way your thighs tremble as you grind your clit on his fat head.
Softly nudging your lips apart with a gentle thrust, gliding his fat head in. Suguru leans back watching as the soft lip of his cock head slips inside you. He loves how it tugs on your tight cunt gently before slipping out. “No matter how much time I get with you it will never be enough by away for so long has made me so greedy for your attention. I need you all to myself.”
He groans, furrowing his thin brown. “Fuuck! I was so stupid to waste the past three years of my life away from you.” Slowly pushing his fat cock in stretching out your dripping wet little hole. “I could have spent of showing you every day how you mean the world to me my love.” Suguru admires how beautiful the color of your pussy’s lips is against his pale cock.
Suguru confesses, “I was so lost and scared but amongst all of that you were trying so hard to reach me out to me and I stupidly walked away. I’m sorry I hurt you.” Swiping his long thick hair to one side and grabs your hands holding them above you head.
He leans down repeating, “I'm sorry isn't enough to make up for it.” Pouring his intense, passion yearning into a slow and deepening kiss that as you parting your lips for his tongue. It’s familiar to follow his lead, it feels so good to kiss and hold him whilst he’s balls deep in you.
Suguru pulls enough to tell you, his voice breathy from the sweet pleasure of your soaking wet cunt clenching his cock. “It took me wanting to become the kind of man who can give you what you want and deserve to help myself become a better man.” He groans, picking up his pace, you can feel his yearning each thrust. Even though you’re here beneath him Suguru fucks you like he misses you still.
He hunches over burying his face into your neck, biting down as he lets your hands go to gently grab your hips. Squishing your soft pudgy fat crease your hips make when your legs fold.
His pace momentarily falters when you scratch his muscular back side. Digging your nails into his shoulders as he fucks you harder, fucking you into a dumb cock hungry slut.
Softly cupping your face whilst gently sliding his large soft hand over your hip and up your side. Slowly dragging his hand back down crasassing your body, stopping at the bend of your knee Suguru wraps your leg around his waist.
Leaning down letting some of his body weight pin you in place, you could squirm and writhe but not enough to run away from his merciless thrust. An intense contrast to how softly he’s touching you and his gentleness in his voice.
Kissing your forehead, keeping his rough harsh pace steady. Suguru is reaching so feel you could feel him underneath your belly button. As your body jolts from the intense pleasure of his cock head bruising your cervix. “There wasn’t a day that passed I didn’t think about you.”
Suguru desperately begs. “Please love don’t let this be our last night together. I need to be yours’, I don’t want to go back to how we used to be but start something better and create a loving, cozy home.”
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