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ana13dsouza · 3 months ago

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Why Carpet Cleaning Is Essential for Homes with Pets in Harrow

Having pets in your home can bring immense joy and companionship, but it also comes with its set of challenges—especially when it comes to maintaining a clean and healthy living environment. One area that often suffers is your carpets. Pets shed hair, track in dirt, and sometimes have accidents, leaving behind stains, odors, and allergens that can affect both your home and your health. For pet owners in Harrow, professional carpet cleaning services in Harrow are essential in keeping your carpets clean and your home healthy.

The Challenge of Pet Hair and Dander

One of the most common issues faced by pet owners is the accumulation of pet hair. Regardless of the breed, most pets shed their fur to some extent, and this can accumulate in your carpets, making it difficult to maintain a clean home. Pet hair can also be a major source of allergens, affecting people with sensitivities or asthma. Regular vacuuming can help, but it often fails to fully remove hair that has embedded deep within the carpet fibers. This is where professional carpet cleaner in Harrow services can make a significant difference.

Carpet cleaning specialists use advanced equipment and techniques to extract pet hair and dander effectively. The powerful suction and specialized brushes used by professionals ensure that your carpets are free from unwanted fur, helping to improve the air quality in your home and reduce allergic reactions. Furthermore, carpet cleaning can remove built-up dander that may not be visible but can cause discomfort for sensitive individuals.

Eliminating Pet Odors

Pet odors are another common issue in homes with animals. Even the most well-trained pets can have accidents, and their urine can seep deep into carpet fibers, causing persistent odors that are hard to eliminate. Over time, the smell can become ingrained in the carpet, making it difficult for regular cleaning methods to provide a solution.

Professional carpet cleaning services in Harrow are equipped to deal with these tough odors. They use specially formulated cleaning agents that neutralize pet urine and other organic stains, rather than just masking the smell. Additionally, the deep cleaning process removes bacteria and germs that contribute to unpleasant odors, leaving your carpets smelling fresh and clean.

Removing Stains and Spots

Pets often leave behind visible stains, whether from accidents, muddy paws, or spilled food and water. These stains can be a challenge to remove with DIY methods, and if left untreated, they can become permanent. Pet stains not only ruin the appearance of your carpets, but they can also penetrate deeper into the fibers, making it harder to clean them thoroughly.

Carpet cleaning services in Harrow can help by providing specialized stain removal treatments. These services target specific types of stains, such as urine, feces, or vomit, and ensure they are completely removed from the carpet. In addition to improving the appearance of your carpets, this process helps to restore the hygiene and health of your home.

Reducing Allergens and Improving Air Quality

Carpets are known to trap allergens like dust mites, pollen, and pet dander. For individuals with allergies or respiratory issues, this can be a significant problem. Pet dander, in particular, is a common trigger for allergic reactions, and it can be challenging to eliminate from carpets without professional help.

A professional carpet cleaner in Harrow can remove these allergens by using high-powered vacuums and deep cleaning techniques. This process helps to improve the overall air quality in your home, making it a more comfortable environment for those who suffer from allergies or asthma. By investing in regular carpet cleaning, you can create a cleaner, healthier space for both your family and your pets.

Prolonging the Life of Your Carpets

Pets can cause wear and tear on your carpets. From scratching to tracking in dirt and debris, pets contribute to the degradation of carpet fibers over time. This can lead to the premature replacement of your carpets, which can be costly. Regular cleaning, however, can help prolong the life of your carpets by removing dirt and debris that cause damage to the fibers.

By hiring a professional carpet cleaner in Harrow, you can ensure that your carpets remain in excellent condition for a longer period. The deep cleaning process removes dirt, dust, and other contaminants that can break down the fibers and cause wear. This helps to preserve the appearance of your carpets and reduces the need for costly replacements.

Maintaining a Clean and Safe Home for Pets

Your pet's health is important, and a clean home plays a significant role in maintaining it. Pets are naturally curious and may spend a lot of time on the floor, where they come into contact with dirt, allergens, and bacteria. Regular carpet cleaning not only ensures that your carpets look clean but also helps to eliminate any harmful substances that could affect your pet's health.

Professional carpet cleaning services in Harrow use safe, pet-friendly cleaning solutions that are gentle on your carpets but tough on dirt and stains. These non-toxic cleaners help to create a safe environment for your pets, without exposing them to harmful chemicals. This gives you peace of mind, knowing that your pet can enjoy a clean and healthy home.

Why Professional Carpet Cleaning Is Worth the Investment

While it might seem tempting to clean your carpets yourself, especially with over-the-counter products, the results often don’t match the level of cleaning that professionals can achieve. DIY methods may be effective for surface cleaning, but they don’t offer the deep cleaning needed to tackle embedded pet hair, odors, and stains.

Investing in carpet cleaning services in Harrow ensures that your carpets receive a thorough, professional cleaning that removes all pet-related issues. Professional cleaners have the experience, equipment, and products necessary to provide a level of cleanliness that is hard to achieve with DIY methods. Plus, they can help prevent future problems, such as the buildup of allergens and bacteria, by providing ongoing maintenance.

Conclusion

Carpet cleaning is essential for households with pets, not only to maintain the appearance of your home but also to ensure a healthy living environment for both your family and your pets. Professional carpet cleaning services in Harrow can tackle the toughest issues caused by pets, from hair and odors to allergens and stains. By investing in regular carpet cleaning, you can protect your carpets, improve the air quality in your home, and create a cleaner, safer space for your pets. So, if you're a pet owner in Harrow, make sure to prioritize professional carpet cleaning to keep your home looking and feeling its best.

#CarpetCleaning #PetOwners #HarrowHomes #CleanCarpets #PetHair #Allergens #CarpetCare #HealthyHome #CarpetCleaningServicesInHarrow

#Why Carpet Cleaning Is Essential for Homes with Pets in Harrow #Having pets in your home can bring immense joy and companionship #but it also comes with its set of challenges—especially when it comes to maintaining a clean and healthy living environment. One area that #track in dirt #and sometimes have accidents #leaving behind stains #odors #and allergens that can affect both your home and your health. For pet owners in Harrow #professional carpet cleaning services in Harrow are essential in keeping your carpets clean and your home healthy.#The Challenge of Pet Hair and Dander #One of the most common issues faced by pet owners is the accumulation of pet hair. Regardless of the breed #most pets shed their fur to some extent #and this can accumulate in your carpets #making it difficult to maintain a clean home. Pet hair can also be a major source of allergens #affecting people with sensitivities or asthma. Regular vacuuming can help #but it often fails to fully remove hair that has embedded deep within the carpet fibers. This is where professional carpet cleaner in Harro #Carpet cleaning specialists use advanced equipment and techniques to extract pet hair and dander effectively. The powerful suction and spec #helping to improve the air quality in your home and reduce allergic reactions. Furthermore #carpet cleaning can remove built-up dander that may not be visible but can cause discomfort for sensitive individuals.#Eliminating Pet Odors #Pet odors are another common issue in homes with animals. Even the most well-trained pets can have accidents #and their urine can seep deep into carpet fibers #causing persistent odors that are hard to eliminate. Over time #the smell can become ingrained in the carpet #making it difficult for regular cleaning methods to provide a solution.#Professional carpet cleaning services in Harrow are equipped to deal with these tough odors. They use specially formulated cleaning agents #rather than just masking the smell. Additionally #the deep cleaning process removes bacteria and germs that contribute to unpleasant odors #leaving your carpets smelling fresh and clean.#Removing Stains and Spots

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gojonanami · 1 year ago

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❝ 𝐈 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ! ❞

❝ I HEARD FROM A FRIEND OF A FRIEND, THAT DICK WAS A TEN OUT OF TEN !! ❞

✧ pairing: jjk au sorcerer! suguru geto x sorcerer! reader

✧ summary: geto's routine after a mission -- ingest the curses that he collects before his shower. but after he does, his body begins to burn and ache with lust to the point of pain -- and he can't get rid of the feeling alone. so what else can he do when you show up at his doorstep offering to help but accept it (aka a sex pollen / aphrodisiac curse fic).

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, jjk compliant au, geto stayed a sorcerer and didn't defect, reader is one year younger than geto, (set during jjk s1), aphrodisiac curse (sex pollen), multiple orgasms, multiple positions (missionary, doggy, riding, other positions mentioned: standing, against the wall, spooning from behind, against the wall), masturbation (m), soft dom! geto, oral (m +f), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, cervix fucking, panty stealing, squirting, mutual pining, a little angst (discussion of star vessel / premature death arc), but a lot of comfort, cuddling, gojo hijinks

✧ wc: 8,180

Suguru was only sure of one thing, as he stared at himself in the mirror — cheeks flushed red, sweat nearly soaking through his black t-shirt, and a painful and glaring problem in his boxers—

This was a curse — literally.

Curses were made up of different negative human emotions — from loneliness to grief to anger, these negative feelings would pool and create a curse. Sorcerers were made to exorcise these curses, and Suguru did so — but in a different way than the others. He had to consume them as part of his technique. And even with the hundreds of curses he’s swallowed over the years, he would never get used to the taste — a shit soaked rag used to clean up vomit was how he could best describe it, but even then, that didn’t come close to the indescribable act of swallowing the manifestation of the worst negative human emotions — at least for most of them.

The one he had swallowed today was different — he was sent to exorcise a grade 1 curse in the heart of Tokyo that dwelled in an abandoned building — from the inside, he could tell that it was used as a strip club and possibly a bathhouse-turned-brothel, from the seedy mattresses left behind with dirty sheets and mussed covers, with rusting incense burners placed around the room, and the gaudy, fake jewelry that laid strewn about the place — assumedly any real jewelry picked clean. He swore he could have even smelt the ever lingering scent of cheap perfume in the walls and vents.

But the greater concern was the curse he had found himself with — a grotesque creature that stared back at him — its body a deep maroon, many eyes dotting its back with a large pair of black lips that Suguru didn’t care to draw any closer to. It was more humanoid than most — its form showing a more sophistication than many curses did, muscles of its many arms contracted as it finally spotted Suguru, its many eyes settled their gaze on him.

It was far too easy for him to take down the curse in hindsight — far too easy — and it seemed to watch him summon curses — and he swore it almost had seen a glimmer of recognition in its eyes and then it allowed him to deal the final blow.

He had kept the curse on hand — he could swallow it later, when he was near a toilet and perhaps some mouthwash — though that barely did much to remove the taste from his mouth. He had returned to Jujutsu Tech to do his reports, and hopefully head back early — Satoru was out on another overseas mission and Shoko was busy tending to patients and bodies as always, but you—

He wasn’t sure what you were doing, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to text you. Not after what Satoru said.

“When are you guys gonna fuck already?” the strongest sorcerer asked, making Suguru choke on his Sprite — strong in ability, but not in tact, “you and her have been eye fucking for weeks and you had such a thing for her before she decided to move to Kyoto—”

“That was years ago—”

“She has a key to your apartment—“

“So do you!” he glares.

“Then what about last night at the bar?” Satoru leans back in his chair, lifting the front legs off the ground, as he pulled his sunglasses down, “you could have murdered the guy that was hitting on her with your look alone — and I think you did when you stuck yourself to her side with your arm around her waist, until he ran with his tail between his legs,”

If looks could kill, Suguru would have surely murdered his best friend — infinity be damned, “She looked uncomfortable, what was I going to do—”

“Well, she certainly didn’t look uncomfortable with you hanging all over her, now did she?” He raises an eyebrow, as he leans forward again, the front legs of his chair landing with a thunk, “what are you gonna do if a guy comes along that she falls for? You’re telling me you’re not gonna regret it, Suguru?” Suguru says nothing, unable to meet Satoru’s gaze, as Satoru crushes his own can into a ball, before tossing at Suguru, “You guys just got to hurry up and fuck,”

Suguru swats the crushed can away, “You’re disgusting,”

He grins, as his words seemingly only confirm what he assumes, “Disgusting, but correct, and if I’m right, you’re taking some of my missions off my hands,” he grins.

And Satoru’s words had been running around in Suguru’s head — just like any annoying song on the radio — but he couldn’t let Satoru’s words stop from hanging out with you. He had just gotten you back in his life again — he couldn’t lose you, not again.

Geto: Are you free to watch a movie and have takeout?

You: sounds good - did you get back from your mission alright? No injuries I need to yell at you about?

He snorts, as he types his reply: no, not this time.

You: Let’s keep it that way! :)

He bites back his smile as the two of you decide to have you head over in an hour to his place — you preferred it that way since you were still settling into your place, boxes still unwittingly everywhere there should be actual furniture. Last time he came by to pick a report up, he found you eating your meal on a packed box, instead of a table.

And he catches himself smiling, before his face sours at the thought of Satoru again.

Satoru was right — and he hated to admit it, his knuckles pressed to his lips. A year under him, you had spent days with him, along with everyone else — you always waited for him with his favorite snacks when he would return from a mission. You sat with him sometimes when he would get sick from swallowing curses, helping him swallow some water and saltines after he turned his stomach inside out. You were the one that pushed him when he hid his disillusionment from everyone else — even from Satoru. You wouldn’t leave him alone, you wouldn’t stop dogging his every step with snacks and comfort and company, hounding him to sleep, to eat, to say something, anything.

Until he did — one late night you spent up together — he didn’t sleep much those days anyway. And he told you everything — the poison seeping from his body, and leeching onto yours, your frown and hurt was the whole reason he hadn’t wanted to tell anyone to begin with. But the frown wasn’t yourself — it was for him, as your arms only curled around him, and he let you hold him the entire night.

“You don’t always have to pretend to be strong, Suguru. You’re allowed to be upset, you’re allowed to be angry, you’re allowed to grieve — but don’t bottle it up,” your fingers raked through his wet hair, undoing the tangles gently before running the comb through it, “don’t let it kill you from the inside out,”

“I feel like I did die — along with Amanai,” and you pause, your arms curled around his shoulders, chin resting on his head before you pinched his cheek and he flinched.

“There, you’re definitely not dead,” you say, “so don’t act like you are. And don’t act like you’re alone — because you’re not. You have me, you have Satoru and Shoko — even Nanami and—“ you voice cuts off at the thought of Haibara — “Haibara wouldn’t want you to hide from us, he looked up to you — more than anyone else, even Satoru,”

“I don’t know why,” he mutters with a sigh.

“I do,” your fingers guide his face to meet your gaze, your face an inch or two from his, “because you’re kind, you’re intelligent, and you’re strong,”

He scoffs, “Satoru is the strongest,”

“And you think Satoru thinks any differently of you? That any of us feel differently? You’re the only person who can understand him — and he’s the only one who understands you,”

He gives a small chuckle, “not the only one,” and he tears his eyes away, hoping you don’t see the way his cheeks burned.

And when he found those two sorcerer girls locked up — you were the one who called. The rage and anger had built into murderous intent, but he could hear your words ringing in his ears and before he knew it, he had called you to come to him.

You saved them together — Nanako and Mimiko had fallen asleep in your respective laps after all was said and done on the ride back — without much bloodshed (not that the blood that was shed was worth much, in his opinion) — and with Gojo and you smoothing things over with the higher ups (mostly with veiled threats and petty remarks), you managed to allow the twins to grow up safe, under Geto’s care, and your own.

At least for a time. After you graduated, Nanami left — and you were the only one of your class left — and the absence of your best friends weighed on you, even if you didn’t show it.

“I’m leaving for Kyoto,” you told him one afternoon the two of you spent lazing around his dorm, you sat against the bottom of his bed, as he lounged on the mattress, his gaze snapping to you, only able to see the back of your head, “this place holds too many memories — i need perspective, I need space from all of this,”

He wants to ask if you have to, ask you if he could convince you to stay, if he could do something, anything to make you stay — ask if he wasn’t enough to make you stay. But he doesn’t, because it’s the best decision for you. So he instead slips off the bed, sitting beside you, his hand ruffling your hair, “You’ll come to visit right?”

He knows you’re blinking back tears, but he pretends not to notice, your lip quivering, and god, he knows he wants nothing more than to tilt your gaze toward him by your chin and brush his lips against yours, until every sad thought has evaporated under his touch.

But he knows that would only be one more thought that would make things far more difficult — for the both of you. It was better this way. And it was. Years had passed, the two of you had become teachers at the Tokyo and Kyoto schools respectively — but as the years had passed, your relationship grew more distant, as it always seemed to with time and distance.

But then you decided to come back to Tokyo, transferred over — Yaga explaining it was due to all the happenings in Tokyo with the special grades and emergence of Yuji as Sukuna’s vessel — and he found himself in your presence again. And it was as if no time had passed — your days off spent in his apartment — as yours had become a haven of unpacked boxes. And he couldn’t help but wonder — when he’d glance at you in the dark of his living room, the only illumination was the TV that played some shitty horror movie (your words not his) you had put on — if the special grades were the only reason you’d come back. Your fingers were so close to each other’s on the couch, but an inch felt like a ravine.

One he couldn’t dare to cross.

But It was fine, just as he told Satoru — you were just friends, until both of you decided otherwise. Not that it would ever happen — no, he thought that ship had sailed, even if his heart had stubbornly said that it hadn’t.

Until he decided to consume the curse — and his heart was no longer the problem.

Or at least, not his main problem.

He sat in his bathroom, towel in the shower rack, ready to shower after he dealt with this. He had discarded his uniform jacket and pants — only in a black t-shirt and boxers. He stood by the toilet — as he learned his lesson the first few months swallowing curses — he never knows when one will turn his stomach inside out.

He holds the balled curse in his palm — he could feel it squirm just underneath of his cursed energy — the thing keeping it contained at all, itching to be freed from his grasp — though it never would. He pressed the ball to his lips, bracing himself as he opened his mouth, nearly having to unhinge his jaw for how large this curse was and pressing it past his lips and into his mouth. His palms pressed against his mouth, as he swallowed, eyes squeezed shut.

It…wasn’t as bad as he thought. He frowned, brow knit as he stared at his empty palm — it was still appalling to consume, but it was….sweet? But it burned as it went down, heat remaining in the pit of his stomach, even as it should have faded.

That should have been his first clue.

Either way, he turned on the shower before he shed the rest of his clothes, and stepped in. The water felt warmer than usual, as he washed his body first, letting his hair grow wet under the shower head. His fingers reached for the shower handle, turning it even colder, but his body barely reacted to the water — was it even cold?

Even under the water, he felt like his body was burning — a slow fire that lingered under the surface of his skin, burning and aching, the frigid water barely doing enough to soothe it. Running his hands over his body seemingly helped, a shiver running down his spine as he washed himself, but he knew it would have felt even better if it was you.

….what? He tried to shake that thought from his head — it wasn’t the first time he had thought of you like this. There were many times where his mind would drift to you at night, the warmth of your touch from a few hours ago still lingered, as his hard-on pleaded for his touch. Guilty gnawed at his conscious when he indulged, the first time being after a particularly vivid dream of you pinning him down while training — your mouth kissing down his body, eager fingers tugging at his shorts until that smirk met—

This wasn’t helping.

The burning had traveled southward, as his blood did, and he glanced down at his raging hard-on.

Fuck.

No, he couldn’t.

But his fingers were possessed, already reaching for his aching cock, large beads of pre-cum leaving his slit just as hand closed around it. He hisses when he does, a gasp ripped from his throat, as he braces himself against the shower wall with his other hand.

He palms his erection, swallowing thickly, as he grunts, as he begins to pump his cock from base to tip, smearing his pre along his length. But his mind wanders to you, how pretty you’d look pressed against the wall of his shower, his hard cock dragging between your ass. Lovely moans parting your lips as his fingers would reach around to rub at your puffy clit.

“Suguru, please—“

“Tell me what you want baby, gotta use your words,” he’d murmur, teasing your slick entrance with the tip of his cock.

“Need your cock — need you to fuck me,” you would whine, words nearly enough to make him bust there and then. And he would sink into you just as he does his fist, but your sweet cunt would feel so much better than his hand does.

Fucking wet and tight and just for him, as he works his dick deeper and deeper, until his tip is nudging your cervix. And he’d fuck you hard, just like he’s fucking his fist now, skin slapping each time his hips met your ass.

You’d cum before he would, he would make sure of it — one hand rubbing harshly at your clit, the other toying with one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. And your walls would squeeze and wring him dry, just as he squeezed his own dick now.

He spilled all over the wall of his shower, white spurts kept coming, as he grunted, imagining he was painting your walls instead. He panted, but as the afterglow ebbed away, the heat only came back tenfold.

He panted, as his fingers left his cock, only to find it still hard — the tip red and angry, twitching as he stared back at it.

What the fuck is going on?

He finally left the shower, pulling on his shirt and boxers delicately — every inch of his body felt feverish and sensitive, even the rubbing of his clothes against his skin was almost too much for him.

He stood in front of the sink, knuckles white against the porcelain as he tried to will his erection away, but each thought was only chased away with thoughts of you — of the dress you loved to wear riding up, of your legs spreading for him, of the wet patch on your panties—

He was so fucked. Sweat dripped into the sink, as he glanced at himself in the mirror — skin a ruddy red flush, lips impossibly dry, pupils blown out with need — he was so fucked.

He called Shoko — the embarrassment of this situation far gone at this point fading into plain need of wanting this situation to be over. One ring, two rings — finally five rings and she picks up.

“It’s not like you to call—“

“I need your help,” he cuts her off, biting back the groan from his cock rubbing against his boxers the wrong way — “I don’t know what’s happening to me,”

Her voice shifts from curiosity to concern, “Slow down, Suguru, tell me what’s going on,” and he tells her his symptoms — and she’s silent on the other line for a moment, “you have been a teenage boy before right? You’re not really calling me because you’re horny and you don’t know what to do—“

“It’s not that—“ he hisses, running a slow hand down his face, “I already tried…solving the problem myself but it didn’t work. And I feel weird — it only made it worse. I can’t stop sweating or thinking about—“ he cuts off — he couldn’t stop lewd thoughts of you from springing before his eyes, the thoughts of your moans, how soft your flesh would be under his fingers, how you’d look when he— “what is this, Shoko?”

She pauses on the line for a moment, “When did it start?”

“Right before my shower I think,” his mind foggy with need, he could barely even comprehend a coherent thought.

“And what did you do before your shower? Anything different?” he’s swallowing the lump in his throat, as he resists the urge to brush his hand over his hard-on.

He’s barely hearing Shoko at this point — “I took off my clothes, I got my towel, and then I—“ and the realization struck him — the curse, “I consumed the curse I collected today from my mission,” he mutters, “fuck—“

And then there’s a knock at the door, “Suguru?” He heard you call through the door. His dick throbs at the sound of your voice.

Shoko’s voice cuts through the white noise, “Suguru, the curse you ate — was there something different about it?”

“It was a grade one — it seemed a little too easy to defeat — it formed in—“ he swallows thickly, “in a brothel,”

“I’ve heard of curses being lustful, but not of them becoming a stimulant,” she murmurs, and he can hear her sigh, “you could try extracting the curse from your body — I doubt that would be effective at this point. I assume the effects will linger until the symptoms pass — just as it does when you become nauseous or sick from swallowing other curses,”

His phone buzzed with texts from you:

You: I’m outside, I grabbed takeout for us this time since you always treat me!

You: are you home?

His mind swam, it wasn’t the takeout he was craving — it was you. But no, no — he couldn’t. Not like this, but he was fighting a losing battle and he just about lost the war along with it.

“I don’t know, how do I get it to pass?” he was desperate, the sounds of your knocks and messages ringing in his ear, along with your sweet voice — why do you sound so good with his name on your lips? So sweet — his boxers grow even tighter — bet you even taste even sweeter.

“If dealing with it yourself didn’t work, then,” she sighs, “you’re going to need a partner,”

Another knock.

“Shoko, I have to go,” and he hangs up before she can get another word — a thought to thank her and apologize shoved to the back of his mind, as he stumbles to his door, a thunk as he nearly tumbled into it, wood and hinges groaning under the force and weight.

“Suguru?” you’re so worried yet his name on your tongue was nearly enough to have him cumming in his boxers then, the wet patch of his boxers nearly making the fabric translucent, “are you okay?”

He says your name, “You should go home, I’m not feeling well—“

“What’s wrong? Do you need help?” And he’s biting his lip, teeth digging into his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood, “let me in,”

“I can’t—I can’t let you help with this,” he’s shaking his head, “please, sweetheart, you have to go—“ And he hears the clink of your key going into the door — fuck, that goddamn key he gave you, and the door pulls open, just as he braces himself against the doorframe.

Your brow furrowed in concern, takeout bag in hand, as your eyes examined him, until they found their way to his boxers.

“Suguru—“

“You should leave — I can’t explain, there’s a curse inside me—“

Your eyebrows knit together, “Suguru, a curse did this to you? What happened?” And he’s shaking his head, mind far too gone, as he forces himself away, “let me help—“

“You can’t help. I have to get out of my system but the only way is—“ he cuts off, as he groans again, body and mind railing against each other, as his body just seemingly burns from even being near you.

“There must be something—“ and you step closer, and he can barely hold back from grabbing you, fingers twitching to wrap around your waist, the other holding your neck, lips finding yours, as he fucking rips his own clothes off— “I want to help—“

He’s tugging at the collar of his shirt incessantly, as you step closer, closing the gap between your bodies, and he can only focus on the way your pretty lips part, the way your chest curves under your shirt, and the far too short shorts you choose to wear — fuck.

He was so fucked.

He can’t hold back, as he’s drawing close to you in a moment, his mind clouded with lust, the hitch of your breath only making him want you more — but he forced every muscle in his body to stop. He couldn’t. Not until you agreed.

“If you don’t want me to fuck you right now,” he says lowly, his lips nearly brushing your ear, “I want you — regardless of this, I’ve wanted you for so long,” the confession tumbles from his lips because he needs you to know, needs you know so you can either leave him to his fate or help him get through this, “but if you don’t feel the same—“

But to his surprise, you lean closer, breath warming his skin until it was left scalding, “who said I didn’t?”

And he can’t hold back.

His lips crash to yours, his hands holding your cheeks, as he grasps desperately to you, takeout boxes spilling from the plastic bag and your purse spilling your things when you drop it, your fingers grasping at his damp t-shirt.

And your touch alone even through the fabric is nearly enough to make him bust a nut there and then — and his mind hadn’t even felt so clear until he felt your touch. He could notice every little detail about you — the way your breath caught when his fingers ghosted down your sides, the way your lips parted for his tongue without hesitation, and the way your knees shook when he squeezed your hips.

“So pliant for me,” he murmurs, eager to touch more, to taste more, “such a good fucking girl, aren’t you?”

And you’re nodding wordlessly — lips kiss ruined and red, saliva clinging to your lips when he parted from your lips — and he wonders which one of you swallowed a glorified sex curse.

“Know how long I wanted to do this?” words said pressed with heated kisses down your neck — he was right, you tasted so sweet, he bet another part of you tasted even sweeter — “how many times I thought about this?” He nibbled at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, rewarded with a pretty gasp, “wanted to mark you up so many times — when that fucker tried to hit on you — I wanted to do more than just wrap my arm around you. Wanted to show him how he could never please you,” and he’s sucking a mark there, teeth grazing and pinching your skin before he soothes it with his tongue. He smiles against your skin, as he admires his handiwork.

You whine when he drags a thumb down your puffy lips, “Sugu, please, more,” and his lips find yours again, swallowing your complaints and moans eagerly, as his large palms slide down your back to rest on your ass, squeezing as he presses you flush to his body, hard on pressed against your body.

“Need my touch that much, Princess? Should’ve just fucked you in that club, huh? Let them see that you’re mine,” And he’s walking you backwards towards his room, as he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it onto the floor of his living room. Your fingers running over his exposed flesh, thumbs teasing his sensitive nipples, pretty little lips pressing teasing kisses to both sides.

Fuck, the need to bury his cock in you grew by the second. But he wanted to feel good first — been waiting too long. He had all night to fuck you — but he only had one time to do it right the first time.

He’s walking you into the edge of his bed, as you both tumble onto the bed, his hands sliding under your shirt, tugging at the hem, and you help him take it off — and he hissed at the sight of nothing underneath.

“Were you always coming to my place with no bra on?” his lips curl, as your eyes look away, embarrassment painted on your expression, “wanted this as long as I did, Princess? Don’t get so shy now — you’re the one who insisted on helping me, so aren’t you going to fulfill your promise?” His lips brush against your earlobe, lips wrapping around it and sucking lightly.

You shiver, biting your lip, before you’re tugging him fully onto the bed, before slinking off of it and onto your knees for him, “Then let me help you,”

When your fingers toy with the elastic of his boxers, he’s ready to cum right there — he’s so sensitive still, he’s sure he won’t last long, but fuck, he doesn’t care with how pretty you look between his legs.

“Don’t be a tease, Princess, or I’ll pay you back later,” but your lips only curl, as you lean forward and press a kiss through the drenched fabric, tip of your tongue teasing his slit through his boxers.

“Oh I expect you to,” and you’re pulling his boxers down painfully slowly, letting the fabric of his boxers rub against his hard-on teasingly, a low hiss leaving the thin line of his lips, his balls aching with his release as his cock slaps against his stomach, “fuck, Sugu,” you murmur in almost reverence — he was thick, the tip flushed red with lovely beads of pre-cum already dripping down his length, your fingers already eager to trace those pretty veins, and feel the slight curve of his cock in your aching cunt, “how am I gonna fit you all in me?”

And his cock twitches at your words, as you pity him with a chaste kiss to the top, “Please,” he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, fingers knuckles white as they fisted the now creased sheets, “fuck—“ as you blow air along his length, “I’ll cum all over your face at this rate,”

“Oh I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Sugu?” your point finger lightly follows the trail of his vein, as your lips continue to press butterfly kisses along his length, “paint my face with your cum,”

And his fingers thread themselves in your hair, pressing his length to your lips, and you smirk, looking up at him with half lidded gaze, as your lips part and his length slides in — that’s all it takes.

The coil in his stomach snaps, as he cums down your throat, hot seed spilling into your mouth, as his hips jerk against your mouth, his groans of your name sending a hot stripe of heat down to your cunt.

Despite that, his cock only seems to grow larger, twitching against your tongue, as you part for a moment, a trail of saliva and cum dripping from your lips, “Taste so good, Sugu — gotta have you one more time—“ you envelop him with your lips again — and he’s a mess of moans, head thrown back, thick haze of lust as his eyes finally meet yours. You swallow around him, tongue wrapped around his length, as your sinful fingers touch whatever can’t fit in your mouth.

“S’good baby, should’ve fucked this mouth a long time ago,” and he’s gone, as his hips begin to slowly roll against you, watching as you don’t resist, the tip of his cock brushing against your throat, “good fucking girl, never gonna go a day without these lips around my cock,” and god, he’s so close — twitching in your mouth, but what sends him over the edge is when he feels you moan, and spots your hand down your shorts.

Fuck, he’s pulling out, “can I—“ and you pump him in response, a grunt of your name as you let him cum all over your face and chest, the sight enough to make him hard all over again — his thick release slipping down your lips, as your tongue darts out to taste it again.

And he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, tasting his own cum on your lips, before grabbing his discarded shirt to clean you off. His hand grabs your wrist and eases it from inside your cunt, tongue darting out to lick the release from your fingers, cleaning each of them.

In an instant, he’s got you spread on his bed, legs parted for him, “where’s that attitude now, pretty?” And his lithe fingers sneak under the elastic of your panties and snaps it against your skin, making you squirm, “seems like all those words fell out of your head just from sucking my cock,”

He’s slowly dragging your underwear down, before pulling at his bedside drawer to stuff your panties in, “for later use,” and you can’t managed a reply before his lips are pressing butterfly kisses up your thighs, before his teeth graze the soft flesh of your inner thigh, drawing a gasp from your lips, before sucking and soothing it with his tongue, “mine, all mine,” he’s already hard again — the feel of your soft skin under his lips was enough to have him cumming again like a virgin — the burning in the pit of his stomach only burned brighter for you — god, would he ever work his way out of this state? But as his gaze was met with your lovely dripping cunt with your puffy clit begging him for attention, he couldn’t seem to care.

You hiss when his fingers slowly spread your folds, “So fucking tight, baby, how am I gonna fit in you?” he clicks his tongue, inhaling, as his nose brushes against your clit, making your hips jump, “patience, gotta take my time with this princess cunt, gotta make sure you’re ready for me,” his dick twitching at his next sentence, “because I sink my cock in here, we’re not stopping at one round,”

Your cunt squeezes around nothing at his words, his breath warming your sensitive pussy, until he finally drags a stripe up your needy folds.

“Sugu, fuck,” his arms brace your thighs and hips down, as the tip of his tongue drags teasing circles around your clit, your slick gathering on his tongue, as he tastes it with a groan.

“Fucking, the best thing I’ve tasted,” and as much as he wants to bury his dick in you, he could live with his face between your thighs, “so perfect f’me,” and his tongue trails in tight circles around your clit, while his finger toys with your entrance, gathering your pre on his finger, teasing your entrance and delighting in the way your breath hitches.

He looks up at your face between half lidded eyes, you’re too fucking pretty — your hair a mess from, a sheen of sweat on your body, the lovely way your nipples were erect, and your eyes — pupils lost to lust and need. And all for him.

Fuck, he knows he won’t last long at this rate, he can already feel the urge to palm his raging cock, but he wants you to cum first, and he’s sinking a finger into your sweet cunt. He can almost imagine how your walls would feel fluttering around his cock — but he doubts his engorged tip would be even fit right now.

No, he needed to make this good for you — he slowly starts to finger fuck you as his tongue circles your clit in tighter circles, even sucking on it, and by the way your fingers grasped at the sheets, crumpling under your touch — you liked it.

Pretty moans left your lips, as your fingers found their way to his dark locks, still slightly damp from his shower — as he added a second finger inside. His name said between pants, as his fingers drag against your molten insides — the wet squelch rang in his ears as he fucked your cunt open. Knuckle deep in your sweet pussy, he knows he’s addicted — to the feeling of your molasses insides — warm and soft for him, his digits curling against your walls, looking for that one place that would make you fall apart.

“Sugu, please, please ‘m close—,” and he knows you need a little more, and he’s obliging with a chuckle, a third finger joining the other two, and he’s fucking you in earnest now — lips closing around your clit and sucking mercilessly, as his fingers find that spongy spot that has you seeing stars. Your back arches, as your nails dig into his scalp, as you cum around his fingers — walls fluttering as he eats you out through your high, his name leaving your lips again and again, as you slowly come down from your high, thighs twitching and chest heaving as you do.

As he finally pulls away, his chin and mouth glossy and drenched in a mixture of your cum and his spit — that he licks clean from where his tongue can reach, fingers collecting the rest, as he looks at your sticky cum gathered on his fingers.

Fuck, he could live in your cunt. Your sweet taste was the only thing he’d crave now after consuming curses — he wondered if you’d let him eat you out for hours after the curses he ate — he was sure your taste was the only thing that would erase that disgusting like nothing else ever would.

He’s giving you soft kisses after, dotting them up your body, murmuring praises, but you’re pulling him into a kiss, your fingers resting against the back of his neck, as your other hand finds his aching erection, swallowing his gasp with pleasure.

“Want you, Sugu, please,” and your words are enough to make him cum right there, as he tugs your hand away, “Sugu—”

“Won’t last long if you keep touching me and whining like that, Princess,” the heat only seems to lick at his skin like flames, engulfing him with every touch, and his cock was the epicenter of the wildfire, while you were the fuel that only made it consume you both to ash, “but I know it won’t be long until I’m fucking you again anyway,” Your cunt throbs at his words, as he draws close, dragging his weeping tip against your folds, watching his pre-cum smear against your slick with a grunt, “feels like you’re already trying to swallow me up, princess — you want this cock that bad?” fuck, he can’t hold back anymore, as he’s lining up himself up, and he’s sliding right into you with a groan, “know how long been waiting to do that?” his skin meeting yours as he bottoms out deliciously, stretching your walls out with his girth, pleasure ripping up your spine, “wanted to do this since the moment you walked through the door, but needed to do this right — when nothing about this was right,” he had so many things to say, while your mind had left you with not even a syllable, his cock twitched and pulsed inside your walls, dragging against it deliciously, “wish our first time wasn’t like this — but I’m so glad it’s finally happened, sweetheart,”

And you can’t help but smile up at him, lips parted with a small moan, as tears burned at your eyes from his size, “Me too, Sugu, wanted you for so long, needed you—” and he’s kissing your tears and words away with his lips,

Then he begins to fuck you — hard, the slapping of your skin and the wet squelch of your sex filling up most of the silence of the room, while both of your moans and grunts took up the rest. Your cunt was heaven to him — warm, wet walls wrapped around his aching cock — the slightest bit of relief was overcome with waves and waves of need — he needed to fuck you, needed to make you cum, needed to cum inside — he just needed you.

“S’big, Sugu, too big,” you whine, he was almost too much for you, the way his dick fucked places you only could imagine reaching, as his mouth leaned down to take a pert nipple between his lips — sucking and licking, as he couldn’t have enough of you, while his hand toyed with the other, “feels too good,”

“I know baby, gonna fuck your princess cunt so good — make sure its made just for me,” he’s murmuring, as his teeth graze your tit, as he pistons into you again and again, the tip of his cock brushing your cervix with each thrust, “all mine, baby, fuck — such a good girl for me,” and the praise has you keening against him, the knowing flutter of your cunt that tells him you’re all too close to the edge, as his hand reaches between your bodies to rub at your clit, “cum for me, pretty, need to feel your pretty little cunt squeeze me,”

And you do, falling apart as he fucks you through your orgasm, again and again — fuck, you felt so good, as he watched his cock slip in and out of you, a white ring of your release forming around his base. He’s fucking close too — can feel his balls tense, eager to blow his load, “where—”

You’re still moaning, eyes blown out in pleasure, as you watch him fuck you again and again, “Inside, Sugu, fill me up,” and that’s it, he’s gone — spurting his hot release, painting your walls, as he does, fucking it inside you — deeper, deeper, until he stills for a moment. And you’re twitching, eyes fluttering shut, when he pulls out, a groan parting his lips as he watches his seed spill from your cunt.

But then silence for several moments, the soft pants of your breathing only, before you hear him swearing and grunting, as your eyes open, and your pussy twitches at the sight before you. Suguru’s hand slid up and down his still erect cock, his eyes squeezed shut, as he groaned, “Suguru—”

“Wasn’t enough, need more,” he’s shaking his head, as his fingers squeeze around the base of his cock, “thought it would be enough to cum with you, but I can still feel it—” and he’s groaning, as you sit up, watching your mixed releases drip from you, “baby—”

And your lips kiss the tip of his weeping cock, “I told I’d help you,” and you ease his hand away, as you lick up his length, your eyes fixed on his, “just because we fucked, doesn’t mean we’re done,”

And in a moment, he’s got you flipped onto your hands and knees, as his cock slaps against your ass, his fingers squeezing the flesh, as he leans over to kiss your back, “Then I guess we’re gonna be up all night, sweetheart, because if you’re okay with this — I don’t think I’ll be satisfied with just a blowjob,” his tip drags against your messy cunt, “gonna need something a little tighter than your mouth,” and he’s sinking his thick cock into you again, balls slapping against your ass as he begins to fuck you, “better cancel any plans you have, pretty — because we’re not leaving this bed for a while.”

“Don’t fall asleep on me, baby,” his fingers grab your chin, and force you to meet his gaze, as he fucks into you, as you sit on his lap, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, “almost gonna cum, and don’t want you to be asleep for it,”

How many times had you fucked? You had lost count — but you knew you had done it in far too many positions — on your hands and knees, standing up, against the wall, from behind with his hand gripping your leg up, and far too many others — and now you were spread in his lap, cock deep in your pulsing pussy, his lips kissing your neck, as he fucked into you, his dick reaching a deeper angle from this position, easily able to hit the furthest parts of you.

He had cum in you more than you thought was humanly possible — and you supposed it wasn’t — it was only the curse that enabled this — it was animalistic even, the way he rutted into you desperately. He grabbed a water bottle only to take a swig, and find your lips again, forcing you to swallow the water.

“Good girl,” he’s grunting, his hips beginning to stutter, “I’m close baby, are you?” You hadn’t thought it was still possible to feel pleasure at this point, but it was — his cock dragged against your walls, his dark gaze finding yours, “tell me you wanna cum,” and your pussy twitches at his order, “use your words, pretty, or have I fucked them all out?”

“Please, Suguru, I wanna cum on your cock,” and you’re so fucking close again — the all too familiar knot in your stomach ready to snap any moment.

“Fuck, greedy pussy hasn’t enough of me? We’ve been fucking until the daylight now,” as his hand grabs your chin to make you see the first rays of light peaking over the horizon, and he’s making you bounce on him with each thrust of his dick — your orgasm building and building with every brush of his tip against your g-spot, “fuck, s’good for me, baby — been so good — just need one more and we can stop,” and tears stream down your cheek that only make him groan, his lips finding yours in a messy, sloppy kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth right as his cock hits at the deepest part of you—

And you squirt all over him, drenching his cock and lap as you cum, your lips parting from him, as your head is thrown back, boneless, as he fucks into you, your spasming walls pulling him over the edge as he paints your insides with his release, fucking it into you, until he finally slows, your body draped on his, head resting on his shoulder. Bodies sticky with sweat and cum, his cock finally softens inside you, the heat finally beginning to dull, as he presses soft kisses and gentle caresses to every inch of your skin, as he lays you down carefully, pulling himself from you.

“Thank you, princess, thank you,” and you’re burying your face in the crook of his neck, soft breaths cooling the sheen of sweat on his skin, “did so good for me,” and he slowly rises, grabbing his shirt and running it under water to clean you off, if only a little.

You’re already half asleep, eyes only fluttering half open to watch him, and he can’t help but bite his lip, “Sugu?”

“Yes, princess?” And you nod, fingers twitching for him, and his lips curl as he obliges, wrapping you up in his body, “know it was rough on you baby, I’ll make it up to you — don’t worry, just rest,” he grabs a water bottle, and lifts your head ever so slightly and helps you drink some water.

“I know you want to ask me something,” and he pauses, as he pulls the bottle away, “I can see the gears grinding in your head — you can ask me anything, y’know,” you had quite the way of embarrassing him, didn’t you?

“I know, I just,” he swallowed, “was there any other reason you came back to Tokyo, aside from the threats, did you come back for anything else?”

And your lips curl, raising an eyebrow knowingly, “Anything or anyone you mean?” and you chuckle when his eyes can’t meet yours, your fingers finding his again, “baby,” and your hand brushes against his cheek, tracing the cut of his jaw, making his breath catch, “I did come back for someone — a very particular someone,” and he smiles, as your lips lean up to press a chaste kiss to your lips, “and my friends, of course,” you add, “I love Utahime, but I missed Shoko and Satoru, and you,”

“You did?” he murmurs, and you giggle, kissing him again, melting into his touch again, as your foreheads brushed against the other’s, “Sugu?” and it’s your turn to ask something now, chewing on your bottom lip, “can we do this again?” you murmur, before adding, “not like this but—“

And he laughs, pulling you impossibly closer, lips finding your leaping pulse, “Yes, we can, if you want to — because I know I do, because,” his thumb brushing the length of your cheek, “but I want all of you — want your body, your thoughts, your time, your heart and soul—“ and his lips quirk at the sight of your eyes widening ever so slightly, “is that okay?”

And your lips find his own as an answer, sweet kisses turn languid, heat stealing any doubts from either of your minds, “As long I have yours as well,” and the two of you share only a few more kisses, before you both finally drift off.

“If he’s fine, and I’m checking on him, I’m kicking his ass,” Satoru grumbled, as he held his phone between his cheek and his shoulder, Shoko sighing as he rooted through his pockets for his keys.

Shoko chewed her lip, she hadn’t heard from him in hours, “He was in bad shape, I can't find the time to go check and you were on your way home anyway,” Shoko says, wiping her brow, twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers.

“Yeah, on my way home back from a mission,” he finally finds his keys, sticking Suguru’s spare key into the lock and turning it, “If I have jet lag, and all I find is him jerked off and sleeping, you owe me,”

He twists the knob, and looks — he doesn’t see Suguru in the living room or kitchen — but he does see takeout containers spilled on the floor, along with a very familiar bag, and he blinks, before his lips curl. He asks if she’s heard from you, to which she says no,

He walks silently to Suguru’s bedroom, opening the door a crack to see you and Suguru curled up against each other, your head on his chest, his arm wrapped around you, the comforter strewn about and covering the rest of your bodies.

Satoru only grins, before he pulls his phone from his ear and switches to the camera.

“Never mind, Shoko, I owe you one,” and he snaps a picture of the two of you, wondering how many missions he could pawn off to Suguru now, “I’ll treat you to lunch.”

✧ a/n: so this turned out way longer than i thought (story of my life). i had so much fun writing this - i've been writing this in conjunction with prof geto part 3 and its been funny darting back and forth between these two -- although the scenes i've been writing

✧ taglist: @peachyminx, @garfunklefield, @unicornqueen05, @hiyori-ii, @equikaz, @unoriginalidea, @forest-fruits-jam, @torusinfinity, @hellkaiserinphoenix, @loonimae, @gojoedd, @sugurufic, @glaceliy, @telvess, @kentocalls, @nayasch, @iluvvreze, @yamaguccitadashi, @faeismism, @hanxyy, @catsgomurp, @sukaibg, @sugurusdiscordmoderator, @gojorgeous, @getos-slvtt, @sirencholia, @teatreeoilll, @dewdropdive, @appysauc, @kobycetacean, @missroki, @fushitoru, @pricetagofficial, @that-goth-bisexual, @shoyosdoll, @regrettinglifechoices, @mostinsanegirl, @roseybean, @fayyyrieee, @gojobbg, @strangehuman101, @saccharine-nectarine, @i-belong-in-a-retirement-home, @spider-fan72

#sab [mlist]#geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #geto x reader #geto smut #suguru geto smut #geto suguru x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto x you #jjk x you

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callsign-datura · 2 months ago

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a/n: sorry for the long wait! 4.7k words, the result of my last poll, simon "ghost" riley x f!reader

warnings: smut, unprotected p-in-v, creampie, hair-pulling, degradation, talking to the pussy

ghost didn't have many hobbies, but he did have a few he liked the most. His third favorite was being at the shooting range, his second favorite was cleaning his guns, and his first favorite was sparring.

he often sparred to ensure he wasn't getting rusty with certain hand-to-hand techniques. usually with soap, or gaz. late at night when he had energy to expel, or unwanted emotions to get out.

that's why he found himself in the gym, this time off the mat, wrapping his busted knuckles with bandages. he was dressed in gray sweats, a black wife-beater, and the mask. he flexed his fingers as he tucked the edge of the bandage beneath the edge of another at his wrist, bringing both arms above his head. he stretched, grunting quietly before letting his arms drop to his sides, squinting at the way the fluorescent lights made his head ache.

the door creaked open slowly. he tilted his head, watching you enter. you looked up and met his gaze, and he turned his head away and began wrapping his other hand with the same bandages.

you and ghost were cordial at the very least and hostile at the most. it wasn't that you got along-- sometimes his demeanor just pissed you off. so closed off, and for what? working with another person was better than working alone, to you, and you didn't understand why in the hell he was so rude to you.

you huffed under your breath, not expecting him to be in the gym so late. you watched his shoulders flex, the wife-beater a darker shade around his neck with the sweat that dampened it. he looked like he'd been hard at work for a few hours, the bandages around his knuckles tainted with a deep shade of red.

"what's the point of wrapping your hands after you've busted them on the bag?" you call, watching his shoulders shift a bit as he stops wrapping.

"i forgot to do it before." he retorts, not bothering to face you.

"didn't nurse sullivan tell you to do it before?" you put your hands on your hips. your tone is concerned, and partially, you are, but the other part of you is just looking to get on his nerves. you came here to train yourself, but messing with him seemed a bit more fun. "thought you'd remember what a nurse told you to do."

"didn't ask ya to remind me what sullivan said, i know what m'doin'." he finishes wrapping his other hand and goes back to the bag, getting into position and bringing his fists up. he starts throwing punches, the jangle of the chain and the thuds of his fists hitting the bag echoing in the room.

you approach him. "you know, sparring might be better than boxing." you offer, folding your arms behind your back as your gaze flickers over his stature. he's by no means a small man, and it's been a while since you've had the chance to spar with the other guys on base.

ghost's hands shoot out to still the bag, and his head tilts to the left. brown eyes peer at you from beneath the mask, and he huffs through his nose, looking you up and down. "tch. y'got a death wish? i've got a few inches on ya... not to mention pounds."

"i know you do. it'd be good training for me." you hum, looking to the side, then back to him. "for you too, maybe. having an agile opponent might be a bit challenging for someone so... lumbering."

"lumbering?" he asks, tilting his head as he turns to you completely. "and you... agile? got an ego, don't ya?" though he's excited at the prospect of sparring at all, so he's considering it.

you can tell you're piquing his interest, so you push it, ignoring the little jabs. "maybe a small one. sounds fun though, doesn't it? I heard it's been a while since you've got the chance."

he sighs. he feigns resignation, but there's a sparkle in his eye that you don't miss. he considers it for a few moments before he starts skulking in your direction. "you're gonna regret that," he huffs, stopping just short from you. "i've got some rules. one, you lose after i've pinned ya for 10 seconds. two, no dirty shots. i don't pull y'r hair, you don't kick me in the nuts. got it?"

he sounds so serious, you chuckle. "alright," you nod, agreeing to his terms. then you take your position on the furthest end of the mat while he takes position at the other end.

"ya ready?" he gruffs, and you nod, putting your fists up.

"alright then, you get the first shot."

"really?" you tilt your head, taking a few steps forward as you begin circling in the center of the mat.

"mm-hmm." he hums, rubbing his arms before putting his fists up. "wanna see what you can do."

you huff, then you go towards him, side-stepping and reaching out to grab his arm. you yanked on it, and he barely moved. he almost paused, somewhat amused that you even tried that. you let go and move away from him and he follows-- throwing a few punches without expecting them to land.

they don't. one disadvantage of him being so much bigger than you is the speed difference. you're so much faster than him. you can dodge faster, but if he finally gets his hands on you, you're done.

you're moving around the mat, dodging his punches and dodging it when he reaches for you, and he's growing increasingly frustrated.

"godammit, quit fuckin' moving." he hisses, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you in. he lets go to grab you by the shoulders, but before he can, you duck and use most of your strength to kick his shins, trying to debilitate him so you can get away. it doesn't work. you scramble away and he follows, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt and pulling you close. he turns around to throw you off before shoving you to the ground and pinning you there by your shoulders, his body coming down on yours as his knees cage you in on either side of your hips.

you're squirming, hips lifting and hands clawing at his wrists in an effort to get him to let you go. his eyes narrow, getting some sort of satisfaction at seeing you squirm beneath him.

"one," he begins counting, signaling to you that you only have a few seconds to get away. his grip on you tightens, and you're almost sure he's gonna win when you get an idea. your grip tightens on his wrist before you drag your hand up it, digging your nails into the surface of his skin. you apply enough pressure to cut the skin, and his grip releases at the same time he hisses. he doesn't let go, but you take the opportunity to throw his hands off of you and turn around in his hold, tucking your legs in against yourself and pushing the bottoms of your feet against him to throw him off. then you scramble out from beneath him, getting up and putting distance between the both of you.

"hmm," he says, eyes focusing on you before he gets to his feet. "slippery fuckin' thing." he laughs, looking at the arm you cut up. crimson dribbles from the thin red lines you've left behind, and he rolls his head, cracking his neck as he goes towards you again.

there's something different in his eyes-- he's surprised that you're putting up such a fight.

"never expected a little thing like you to fight so dirty." he says, his voice low and husky as he stops a few feet away from him, intense eyes following you as you circle him. it's obvious to him you have no intention of making the first move again, so he opts to play with you a bit instead.

"y'r crafty too, huh?" he says, his voice mocking somewhat. "didn't expect you to claw me up like that. i mean, it worked..." he turns as you do, and your eyes narrow.

"i'm enjoyin' this one, that's for sure. maybe i should make sure that you're gonna keep comin' back?" he says, his voice husky again. there's a tone in it. it's almost like he's taunting you, or-- no, that isn't it...

"it's a shame they won't scar, though." he takes another step towards you, and you look behind you to gauge how much space you have until you step off the mat. you stay where you are.

"i like having trophies from my fights... reminds me how much i enjoyed it." he keeps rambling, and you're not sure what the point of all this is. it makes you feel fuzzy inside, kind of, like he's complimenting you.

he gets closer, and his eyes narrow further. you know he's smirking beneath the mask. you look meek-- is he flirting with you? is your lieutenant flirting with you? is simon "ghost" riley flirting with you??? he throws a few lazy punches, knowing you'll dodge them.

"not at all. it's a compliment, actually. small, nimble. i bet you rarely get into any sticky situations, huh? like a rabbit," he chuckles, his voice amused as he lets go, then shoves your shoulders hard enough to make you stumble. then, to make you lose your footing, he kicks your feet out from under you.

"ain't very often i get to fight people like you, after all." he hums, not even sounding like he's taking it seriously. you're visibly nervous, and you hold your fists up defensively. he leans forward, grabbing your arm and pulling you close. the rational part of you is laughing at your idiocy, but the other part of you is melting because-- he is flirting.

"ugh-- people like me? is that an insult?" you say, your chest close to his as he leans down. his face is inches from yours, and you can feel his breath against you.

you yelp, and you fall on your ass. the sudden tone shift is enough to send you spiraling. the way he talks to you makes something heat in your stomach. he gets on top of you again, one of his legs between yours and the other on the outside of you. he puts his hands on the mat between your arms, and he stays leaned over you.

"well... not really fighting back now, are you? that's a shame..." he huffs, his gaze drifting from your face down... your chest is heaving, and your eyes are shut. your hips shift, and he moves his leg up at the same time. the curve of his thigh bumps against your clothed cunt, and it makes you jolt.

"hey!" you hiss, not expecting the contact or the look in his eyes when you finally look at him.

"what?"

"i... i thought you said no dirty shots," you retort, your voice somewhat weak. you look away, your body flooding with some sort of warmth that his closeness produced in you.

he snorts, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. "ain't a dirty shot if you're already on the ground and you've already lost. it's just... overkill." but he stays over you, despite the fact he just won. his gaze rakes over you in a hungry manner, and you can hear him suck in a breath when your back arches up off the ground.

"...you can get off me now," you murmur, avoiding eye contact. you feel shy, all of a sudden, and kind of pissed. he just won because he was toying with you on purpose to win. he was messing with your feelings! "get off me." you hiss, trying to get out from under him.

his eyebrows go up, sensing your sudden hostility. his eyes narrow. he lifts a hand and pins your shoulder down. "ah ah ah, the fuck are you doing? did i say you could get up?" he was enjoying this before, but now that you're fighting back like this he's a bit irritated.

your squirming just results in you unintentionally grinding yourself against his thigh. you suck in a breath when it happens, and your eyes narrow.

"you're such an asshole" you grumble. despite your arguing and your resistance, you press yourself against his leg.

he looks down when your hips shift. he watches the way they move, and when you finally relax, he moves above you and intentionally moves his leg to see your reaction.

your face flushes, and you whimper, looking away.

"well... look at that." he murmurs, his voice lilted and knowing. he looks up at you and makes eye contact, pushing it against you again to elicit another noise from you. you moan once again and your lips curl, eyebrows knitting in response to the jolt of pleasure he causes.

"isn't that cute?" he teases. "does that feel good?" he says, his voice almost mocking as he lifts his thigh and presses it against you, gently pushing it against you in an even motion to make you squirm even more.

"g-god, you're such an ass," you moan, body falling limp and losing whatever ounce of fight you had. you still mouth off. "do you do this with everyone you spar with? i-is that why soap is always asking you to spar with him?"

he rolls his eyes. "shut up, girl. i'm surprised you have the audacity t' speak to me that way when you're gettin' off on my fuckin' thigh." his voice is almost scolding, but he doesn't grind his leg against you any harder. just goes slow... it's almost torturous. you can already feel yourself drenching your panties. it's a culmination of this entire thing. the way he smells, how close he is to you, the way he's staring at you so hungrily... all of it is making you salivate, except your mouth isn't the only thing drooling.

your head falls back, and your breathing is already so heavy. he tilts his head forward, and his lips are on your neck. you feel the wetness of his lips, the itching brush of peach fuzz, the fabric of his mask rolled up over his nose against your neck-- all of it makes you shudder beneath him. he nips at the flesh of your neck, pulling gently and kissing at the reddened flesh afterward. he puts his leg down, and places himself between your legs, one hand cupping the back of your thigh and lifting it to press himself against you. you feel the outline of his dick through his sweats, semi-hard but at attention. the girth of it catches your attention, and when he feels your body stiffen he chuckles.

"hush. we'll make sure it fits, doll." he murmurs, his voice husky and low, sending shudders through you with how close he is to you. he doesn't grind into you from that position. rather, his hands travel up and down your sides as he kisses your neck, sucking small hickeys and trailing them down. his hands shove your shirt up and over your chest, doing the same with your bra. he's intense, and very aware of what he wants-

you.

his eyes focus on your tits. round, perky and the perfect size for him to hold. so he slides one hand up to cup and fondle your tit, his thumb quickly traveling over your nipple. it pebbles and perks beneath his touch and against the cool air, and he hums. he salivates. he wants to taste your skin. drag his tongue over your flesh, feel the goosebumps that raise beneath his tongue. but he can't. he has to make sure you come back for more and that's exactly how he will.

and as always, he'll get what he wants, one way or another. you squirm beneath him, and noises attempt to claw out of your throat but you keep quiet. you don't want to let on how much you're enjoying this, but the subtle rock of your hips gives it away.

"tsk tsk tsk. are you really this impatient? haven't even done anything yet." he snickers, pulling back to look down at you. he pulls his mask back down before you can see anything, and he leans forward with his hips a bit. your legs still hover against his hips, your knees drawing together as a result of your embarrassment. your lips part and you pant, chest heaving once again.

his other hand slips down to your hip, lifting your legs up and together, over his shoulder so he can pull your pants and panties up your thighs.

"such a pretty girl. you know, i've had my eyes on you for a bit..." he starts. once your pants are around your thighs and he has enough access to you, he brings the hand that was on your boob, to your mouth. he eases his pointer and middle finger into it and your eyebrows knit at the taste of sweat. "suck," he instructs. you do, cheeks hollowing briefly as your tongue laves along his fingers, coating them in spit.

"hmm... always wondered whether or not you were the obedient type, but i never got a chance to break you in and find out." he chuckles, withdrawing his fingers from your mouth and bringing that hand between your legs. he drags the tips of his fingers through your folds, humming when he feels how wet you are. you can hear how sloppy it is, and he laughs.

"i guess i wouldn't be breaking you in as much as her," he snickers. your face reddens and you look to the side, panting once again as he starts easing those two fingers into your sopping cunt. you comprehend then that the her was your pussy.

"mm-hm, tight, as i thought. are you that nervous?" he teases, tilting his head as he scissors those two fingers inside you. the feeling knocks the air from your lungs, and you gasp, bringing both hands to your face to hide how embarrassed you are. despite that, your body gives away how excited you are, your hips shifting and your back arching as his thick fingers curl inside you.

if you're moaning, your pussy is screaming. the wet noises of his fingers working you out is embarrassing and brings heat to your face, but you can't really focus on that.

it sounds so lewd, and it is. you let out a gasp as he pushes them deeper, the sheer girth of his fingers causing your gummy walls to strain. your thighs clench and your hands ball into fists. his other hand pulls your pants and panties off completely, humming as your legs fall apart.

"s'it that good, doll?" his voice is husky and low, teasing. he's getting off on your reaction to his touch. "c'mon, girl, look at me..." his fingers stop, and you whine, shifting to look at him. they start moving as soon as your eyes fix on his, and your lips part. you moan again, your lips curling.

"c'mon, talk to me." he encourages, and his touch is downright sinful in comparison to his tone. "does it feel good? this what you wanted when you started grinding yourself on my leg?" he chuckles to himself. "never woulda thought you were this kinda girl if i hadn't of seen it myself..."

his thumb moves, and flattens over your clit once he turned his wrist over. he rolls circles over it slowly, his other hand rubbing soothing circles on the outside of your thigh.

you squirm and whimper, and it takes everything in him not to just pounce on you. instead he opts to listen to your moans and the sound of his fingers inside you. he curls his fingers and inches them deeper until your body jolts, and he hums in approval at your reaction.

"s'that the spot...?" he asks, leaning forward as he curls his fingers against that spot again. you jump, the coil in your stomach growing ever tighter as you moan in affirmation. the pleasure is making your head feel light, your eyes fluttering shut again and your head falling back against the mat. you're squirming and shifting again, and you feel sweat on your neck and chest. you whimper a bit, the air feeling sticky and humid between you both. it's hard to tell whether that's just your body heat, or it's him.

and you whimper at him. you can feel your orgasm encroaching, and he can feel it too. your cunt squeezes around his fingers and he can feel you throbbing. your body tenses, and your orgasm is right there--

he removes his fingers. you slump down, tilting your head to the side and huffing in frustration when you feel so suddenly empty.

"...this proves that you're just... an asshole..." you grumble, bringing your legs together.

he's thick. slight upward curve, blushing tip and definitely not lacking in length.

there's silence on his end, and when you look at him, he's pulling his sweats and boxers down.

"can't be much of an asshole if m'gonna dick you down," he purrs. you don't look, but you feel his cock hit the side of your thigh once he takes it out. a hand wrapped around the base, he gives a few lazy pumps, smirking to himself beneath the mask when you lift up to look.

"hmm? s'this good enough for you? such a rude girl, calling me names," his voice is teasing. he shifts forward a bit and then lines himself up with you before he moves both hands to cup the back of your knees and lift them. he moves you just a bit closer. He shifts his hips, then without warning, pushing himself into you up to the hilt.

you gasp. he's big, and you wish he had told you he was going to do it so quickly, because you weren't expecting it. his size takes a bit for you to adjust to, the sting and the stretch causing you to squirm once again. he grips your hips to still you, and he hums. "shh... you can take it, can't you?" you continue to whimper, and he laughs. "so pathetic. s'it too big for you?" he mocks, leaning over you once again.

"so fuckin' messy. look at you, girl. maybe this-" he emphasizes that with another particularly hard thrust that causes his tip to attack your g-spot-- "is what you wanted all along. maybe you asked me to spar cause you wanted me to fuck the shit out of you," he huffs, his voice low and raspy and his movements aggressive. you can barely speak aside from squeaks and squeals, the feeling of his hips slamming into yours causing your vision to go white. you couldn't respond outside of gasps.

god. yes. yes, it was too big-- and it took you a while to adjust to it. he started moving once your hips started shifting into his. he tilted his head forward, tucking it into your neck and grunting quietly. you're still sensitive, so when your lips part in a moan, it all feels so intense. your back arches and your legs push apart, welcoming him. his thrusts are shallow, yet careful, (for now), and he grunts into your ear. you squeeze around him, and your head tilts back as you moan out, hands finding his shoulders and digging your nails into it. Your eyebrows knit and you whine.

"y'r pussy's noisier than you are. listen to her," he goes quiet and fucks into you harder just to emphasize the paps of his hips hitting the back of your thighs and the squelches of your pussy clenching around his cock. your slick dripped down your cunt, getting his sweats damp a bit with it-- he moved one hand up to pull your hair, tilting your head back so he could talk in your ear.

"fuck," he cursed, pulling your hair again and chuckling when you cried out. you were lost in the feeling. the feeling of him, the feeling of his cock and how roughly he fucked you.

"hah!" you mewled, your back arching up off the mat. you grabbed at his shoulders in utter desperation. your eyes crossed and you tilted your head to the side, your body jolting with each thrust he offered you- getting gradually rougher.

"y'sound so slutty, moaning for me like that... keep doin' it, pretty," he hummed, staying close as he rutted into you with a force that might as well have caused you to shriek. he let go of your leg, and both of them closed around his waist, ankles locking at his lower back.

"m'gonna cum," you whimpered, your voice soft and meek. he chuckled, and his movements got a bit more aggressive. he lifted himself up onto his hands, keeping them just over your shoulders and looking down to where your bodies met. his fat cock was pounding into you over and over, the squeezes of your pussy enough to make him moan a little bit himself. he looked up, meeting your gaze.

when he finally came, you were still on cloud nine, wailing and squirming beneath him when his hips slammed into yours and he spilled spurts of hot cum into your pussy. the sensation was almost enough to make you cum again-- especially when he ground his hips into yours, his tip grinding into your g-spot. plus his lovely groans were sending you straight to heaven. the noises he made were mostly groans as he fucked into you, making your entire body shudder from the feeling and the sensations flooding your body.

your eyes were glazed over. visibly lost in the pleasure and focused on nothing but your impending orgasm, he took that as encouragement. he took your legs again, sitting up and pulling them together but pushing them against your front. the angle allowed him to get impossibly deeper. each time he slammed into you, his tip hit your g-spot, applying enough pressure to graze the plug of your womb and create more tingling, burning pleasure.

"oh! oh, fuck--" you gasped, folding a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans. your heart was pounding in your ears, and you swore you almost fainted when your orgasm finally fell over you. the feeling of the pressure releasing had you seeing stars, shaky crying moans leaving your mouth. your back arched and tears pricked the corners of your eyes. you were sure you'd be bruised on the inside by the next day.

"that's it baby," he hissed, his grip on your legs tightening. "atta girl..." he purred, his tone tense with his own incoming orgasm. he wanted to help you ride out yours first, so he did. his hips kept that brutal, hungry pace, slamming into your drooling pussy with a fervor he didn't even know he had. he wasn't much of a talker in the midst... you didn't notice that he'd gone quiet, though, too absorbed in the aftermath of your orgasm.

he groaned out, his eyebrows knitting beneath the mask as he tilted his head forward to watch himself pound you. "take it... that's it, fuck..." his tone was still encouraging, but it faded as his pace started to slow. your entire body was still ebbing with pleasure and tingling with the overstimulation of your orgasm, and you were almost struggling to come back to the earth. you were both still panting.

when he pulled out of you and tucked his cock away and fixed his sweats, he looked at you-- his tone was full of pride. "well... fuck... look at you, huh?" he tilted his head, sounding awfully smug. he retrieved your pants and panties and helped you get re-dressed.

"you know... that wasn't the kind of session i was expecting, but damn... i think that was the best i've had in a while." he stood up and helped you to your feet, patting your ass once or twice as he held you up while you regained your bearings.

"...whatever, ghost," you grumbled, still holding onto your stubbornness even after you'd been sent to heaven and brought back.

"you know where to find me. don't be afraid to come get some if you're in need," he hummed, "not like i'm in a position to deny ya."

#simon ghost riley #callsign datura #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost smut #ghost cod #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw3

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excusemyobsessions · 19 days ago

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Come on, breathe with me.

Sylus x MC/You

Scenario; Sylus helps you calm down a panic attack, fluff, comfort

Word count: 740 words

Warning: description of panic attack, use of pet names (sweetie, kitten)

You couldn't breathe.

Panic gripped at your chest so tight, it squeezed out the air inside your lungs.

In your mind, you kept telling yourself it was okay over and over again, like a mantra.

You kept trying to remind yourself of your own grounding techniques, the ones that would work every time you were alone.

But you weren't by yourself this time. You craved Sylus' touch, craved his voice like you had never craved it before. All you wanted was to see him, have him tell you it was okay.

You were shaking heavily as your legs carried you towards his office where you found the door slightly open, the gentle melody of a vinyl record drifting out of the room.

Usually, you'd rap your knuckles against the door before you entered but there was just this tightness in your chest, an inexplicable urgency.

When you burst into the room, Sylus' eyes lifted from the stack of documents he was holding to meet yours.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" he questioned, instantly standing up.

The stack of documents he was analysing was instantly discarded onto his desk and in a few quick strides he was standing right in front of you, catching your hand which reached out for him within his gentle fingers.

As you told him what had triggered you to the best of your abilities, tears started flowing down your cheeks heavily, blurring your vision and making it hard for you to focus on the crimson eyes which gazed back at you attentively.

He listened to you closely, low encouraging hums rumbling from his chest, a big hand cradling your chin, the pad of his thumb wiping away the heavy tears as they kept falling from your eye.

"Oh, kitten," he cooed and even through the tears you could see his eyes soften.

Their usual cold crimson was warm, a vermillion ocean, so deep and tender.

You squeezed his hand and he let you, without a flinch, his thumb tracing over your knuckles back and forth at a slow, mindful pace.

"It's okay. You're okay," he reassured you in a low tone.

You sobbed and choked all at the same time, the emotions flooding you far too great.

"I c-can't breathe," you told him miserably, gripping onto him like a lifeline.

"Yes, you can. Come on, kitten, breathe with me."

The steadiness in his deep voice was soothing and you felt it in your racing heart.

"Come on, breathe in," and he did it with you, taking in a deep breath at the same time you attempted to.

When you shook your head, assaulted by another wave of sobs, he kept catching your tears, squeezing your hand in his.

"Shhh, it's okay. You're safe," he told you, gentle and firm. "There's no rush, take your time."

You wanted to close your eyes and focus on the slow stroking of his thumb over your knuckles but you were terrified he'd slip through your fingers if you did.

"I'm not going anywhere," he assured you, as if he could read your thoughts.

Sometimes you were thankful for his ability to predict just what was going through your head, through your heart.

"Come on, breathe with me."

Sylus wasn't demanding but his tone was firm, always steady, like an anchor.

"Deep breath in, can you do that with me?"

And you did, shakily so, along with him.

"That’s it, good. Now out, slowly."

And you let out the air trapped inside your lungs, feeling his warm breath against your wet cheeks as he breathed out along with you.

"Come on, you can do it again. Deep breath in."

And he kept coaxing mindful breaths out of you, his hands never leaving you, eyes locked onto yours the whole time.

When you were finally able to breathe on your own, he reached back for the box tissues on his desk, plucking a few out. Always keeping a point of contact, with his hand still within yours.

"My sweet little kitten," he cooed, turning towards you again.

With a gentle touch, he helped you clean the remains of tears and snot off your face.

"How about we go get you some snacks and huddle up on the couch? We can watch that movie you mentioned?" he offered, thin lips curved by a small, gentle smile.

"What about your work?" you questioned, already being led out of his office.

"It can wait." He shrugged.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus #sylus fluff #sylus comfort #love and deepspace x reader #sylus x reader #love and deepspace scenario #love and deepspace fluff #excusemyobsessions #this slipped off my fingers idk

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colebabey888 · 5 months ago

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Cultivating Your Signature It Girl Aesthetic | THE IT GIRL DIARIES

Fashion and style are critical components of the ideal It Girl. However, style is not about following every trend, you are the inspiration, the trendsetter, the It Girl style is about creating a look that is uniquely yours, an appearance that no one else can replicate but instead only have deep admiration for it. It’s about creating a personal brand that feels true to who you are and owning it.

How to discover and curate your signature look?

Know Your Aesthetic

Identify your fashion preferences. Are you drawn to classy elegance, barbie doll pink, edgy streetwear, coquette or bohemian chic? Curate a wardrobe that reflects this aesthetic consistently. Identifying your aesthetic does not mean limiting yourself to only that, else you're just another follower taking inspiration from the trendsetter. Take your aesthetic and make it your own, add your touch of personality and characteristic to it, give it a bit of you.

Invest in Staples

Build your wardrobe around staple pieces that can be mixed and matched. Classic items like plain white or black tees, versatile denim, fitted slacks, clothing that can never go out of style because it can always be made into something more.

Embrace Your Natural Features

Celebrate what makes you you. If you have big lips or eyes, find ways to accentuate them! Instead of conforming to trends that don't serve your look, embrace and elevate your features. For instance, laminating your brows for a neat, polished appearance instead of shaving them all off and redrawing them on like.. Discover beauty techniques that enhance your natural beauty rather than masking it.

Maintain a Signature Hair Routine

Your hair is one of your defining traits! Whether you have silky straight hair or kinky 4b curls, a consistent haircare routine helps you feel polished and put together. Invest in treatments that align with your hair type and goals—like deep conditioning and hot oil treatments for moisture and strength. If you love to wear your hair sleek, using heat protectants and frizz control products will help maintain your signature look while preventing damage.

Curate a Low-Maintenance Glam Look

You don’t have to spend hours on makeup to feel fabulous. Find key beauty steps that give you lasting results, like applying a lip tint every third day to keep your lips subtly flushed without constant reapplication. Design a makeup routine that emphasizes your key features. A weekly face mask tailored to your skin’s needs helps keep your complexion glowing. Embrace easy, effective beauty hacks that fit seamlessly into your routine.

Focus on Clean, Minimal Elegance

True elegance comes from appearance and how you carry yourself. Paying attention to skin, hair, and environmental cleanliness, moving with grace and poise. Keeping things simple yet chic, whether it’s maintaining a daily skincare routine or practicing oil pulling—ensure you’re always putting your best self forward. The key is consistency and subtlety, qualities that define It Girl charm.

Stick to What Works

The It Girl aesthetic isn’t about following every trend—it’s about finding what works for you and sticking with it. Your style and beauty choices should reflect what feels comfortable and sustainable for you.

Your personal style should reflect who you are on the inside and help you radiate confidence. Discover what feels authentic, and from there, curate a signature It Girl aesthetic that highlights your best self.

mwah! xoxo, colebabey8.88

www.thedigitaldollar/gumroad.com

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harrysfolklore · 8 months ago

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driving lessons - op81

summary: oscar piastri teaches his girlfriend how to drive for the first time

MASTERLIST | JOIN MY PATREON

Life is full or ironies, and the fact that your boyfriend is an F1 driver and you don't even know how to drive is definitely one of them.

You always found it funny how someone who could navigate the most challenging race circuits with ease was dating someone who couldn't even navigate a parking lot, and was utterly terrified of being behind the wheel.

"I just can't believe you don't know how to drive," Oscar said while you were having dinner at his place one night.

"Excuse me, mister. Not all of us dreamed of driving cars for a living since we were kids," you teased, making him chuckle.

"Well, I guess I'll have to teach you how to drive, since that's what I do for a living."

You laughed at his enthusiasm, shaking your head. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm a lost cause when it comes to driving. I get anxious just thinking about it."

"Oh come on," he threw his head back, "I'll be a great teacher. We'll start slow, maybe in an empty parking lot. If it doesn't work out, we can stop anytime."

You thought about it for a second, you were at an age that it was downright embarrassing to not know how to drive, and maybe Oscar could actually help you face your fear of being behind the wheel.

"Okay," you agreed, "But you have to promise not to laugh at me, and we're not using a one of your McLaren luxury cars."

Oscar's eyes lit up with excitement. "Deal! We'll use something more… beginner-friendly."

"Beginner-friendly?" you raised an eyebrow, "Like what? A go-kart?"

"Hey, don't knock it till you try it," he laughed, "But no, I was thinking more along the lines of a nice, safe, regular car."

"Fine, but you have to be patient with me," you warned, pointing a finger at him, "I mean it, Oscar. One hint of frustration and I’m out."

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "I promise. Scout's honor."

"You were never a scout," you narrowed your eyes playfully.

"Minor detail," he waved off your accusation, making you laugh, "Seriously though, I think you'll surprise yourself. You're tougher than you give yourself credit for."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," you retorted, but you couldn't help but smile.

"Maybe not, but it might get me dessert," he shrugged, leaning closer, "And maybe a makeout session before we head to bed."

You threw your head back in laughter, grabbing his cheeks playfully and pecking his lips a couple of times.

"You're a teenager," you said, shaking your head. "But fine, you get dessert, and you snogging session. Just remember, no racing techniques, I don't need to learn how to drift around corners."

"Drifting? In your first lesson?" he placed a hand on his chest in mock offense, "I'm hurt you think so little of me."

"When are we doing this again?" you said, moving to place your empty plates in the dishwasher.

"How about this weekend?" Oscar hoped off his stool, helping you clean around the kitchen, "I'll find us a nice, empty parking lot, and we can take it from there."

"Oscar Piastri, F1 driver with podiums to his name will teach his girlfriend how to drive in a parking lot," you said as you shook your head, "How ironic."

Saturday morning arrived and it was time for your first driving lesson. After breakfast, you and Oscar headed to the empty parking lot in a small, compact car for the lesson. It was far less intimidating than one of his sleek, luxurious cars.

"Alright, let's get started," he said, opening the driver's side door for you. You took a deep breath and slid into the seat, adjusting it to fit your height, Oscar got in the passenger seat and handed you the keys.

"First things first," he began, his voice calm and steady, "Let's go over the basics. Adjust your mirrors so you can see clearly, and get comfortable with the controls."

You nodded, following his instructions. Once you were settled, he guided you through starting the car and putting it into gear.

"Wait," you said before starting the car, "You're teaching your dummy of a girlfriend how to drive a regular car, okay? Don't expect some professional Formula 1 driver stuff from me."

"I promise, just the basics," Oscar chuckled, shaking his head, "We won't be racing anyone today."

"Okay, here goes nothing," you took a deep breath and turned the key in the ignition, the engine coming to life with a low hum.

"Great job," Oscar said with a small smile, "Now, put the car in drive and slowly take your foot off the brake."

You hesitated, feeling a wave of anxiety wash over you. "What if I mess up?"

"You won't," he said confidently, "And even if you do, it's all part of the learning process. Just take it slow."

You took a deep breath and lifted your foot off the brake. The car began to roll forward and for a moment, everything seemed fine until you pressed the gas pedal a bit too hard. The car jerked forward, causing you to panic and slam on the brakes.

"Whoa, easy there," Oscar said, "You're not at Silverstone, remember?"

"This is so much harder than it looks," you huffed, feeling your frustration bubble up, "How do you make it seem so effortless?"

"Years of practice and maybe a little natural talent," he winked, "But seriously, you're doing fine. It's all about getting a feel for the car, let's try it again."

Taking a deep breath, you eased off the brake and gently pressed the gas pedal. This time, the car moved forward smoothly, and you couldn't help but smile at the small victory.

"See? You're getting it!" Oscar encouraged. "Now, let's try a gentle turn. Just steer to the right."

You gripped the steering wheel tightly, turning it slowly to the right. The car responded, and you managed to navigate the turn without any major issues. But as you straightened out, you accidentally hit the windshield wiper lever, causing them to whip back and forth at full speed.

Oscar burst out laughing, and you couldn't help but join in, despite your embarrassment.

"Well, at least we know the wipers work!" he joked.

"Ugh, I feel stupid," you groaned, fumbling to turn off the wipers.

"It's okay, baby," he leaned in to peck your cheek quickly.

"Stop kissing me, I'll get distracted," you teased.

"Okay, okay," he said, composing himself, "Let's try another lap around the parking lot. This time, no wiper incidents."

You nodded, determined to get the hang of it. You practiced driving around the empty lot, getting more comfortable with each turn and stop.

As the lesson continued, you found yourself improving bit by bit, though there were still moments of frustration.

"Ugh, why won't this stupid thing go where I want it to?" you groaned, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"Hey, it's okay," Oscar said soothingly. "You're doing great. Just remember to relax your grip a bit. The car will respond better if you're not strangling the wheel."

You did as he said, and you found yourself driving more comfortably around the parking lot, improving with your turns and stops.

"You know," he said at one point, "If you keep this up, you'll be ready to join the grid next season."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Yeah, right. I'll leave the racing to you, thank you very much."

"Fair enough," he said, grinning, "It would be really hard to fight with my girlfriend for the championship."

"Is your girlfriend Max Verstappen and I'm just finding out?" you teased, making him laugh.

"That's a secret I'll never tell," he joked, causing you both to burst into laughter.

After a few more laps around the parking lot, you were feeling more confident behind the wheel. Until the final challenge of the day approached: parking the car.

"Let’s try parking," he suggested after a while, "Find a spot and take it slow."

You spotted an empty space and carefully guided the car into it, but misjudged the angle and ended up crooked. You groaned in frustration. "Why is parking so hard?"

Oscar laughed, shaking his head. "Well, parking an F1 car in the garage is definitely easier, no tight spaces to worry about."

"Ha-ha, very funny," you retorted, but couldn't help but laugh along with him, "Alright, let me try again."

You pulled out and tried parking again, failing to get the car neatly within the lines. "How was that?"

"Okay, so maybe parking isn't your strong suit yet," he teases, "Good thing you're not in a pit stop competition."

"Fine, I had enough for today," you said, unbuckling your seat belt, "I'm ready to go back to being your passenger princess."

Oscar laughed, getting out of the passenger seat and switching positions with you.

"You did great, really," Oscar said once he settled in the drivers seat, leaning over to kiss you, "I'm proud of you, you know. You really pushed through your fear today."

"And we're both still alive so that's a good thing," you joked, making him laugh, "Thank you for being a great teacher, baby."

"All I did was sit here and provide moral support, it's not like I know anything about driving or cars," he teased, "You did all the hard work."

You rolled your eyes with affection, leaning in to kiss him again.

"Maybe next time we'll try an actual road," he suggested.

"Or maybe you can teach me how to do a proper donut," you said, making him throw his head back in laughter.

"Only if you promise not to tell the team."

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