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anyway. i think im going to hit augustus with a car
#N posts stuff#iâve been wanting to write about getting run over since i got right run over#and havenât been able to pull it off bc a key part of the experience for me was being uh#Alone and kind of stranded at the ER afterwards (i had to get a ride home from strangers - level bad)#which is hard to pull off when you are writing about a character who actually has friends#but i think Augustus is finally a good opportunity to try again bc her best friend canât drive#and i can see her and Changeling both being like âwe Cannot call your mom at work so#iâll probably be stuck here a few more hours and we can time it so she can come pick me up Right at the end and we donât have to interrupt#her before that. bc interrupting someone at work is Rudeâ#so it would only be at the very end that weâd have to deviate to âshe had someone to stay with her afterwardsâ#i can even have her dad be out of town for the first time in a while to also nail the âi am texting my parent from the middle of the road#and guilty crying about it because theyâll be worried but too far away to do anything to helpâ moment#i donât talk about getting run over a lot but. hm. looking at these tags like lmao âhm this was kind of Bad huh? weirdâ#ANYWAY get ready girlie im about to wreck your shit with a truck <3
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Jughead Jones would have beef with Michelle Obama over her 'Healthy, Hunger-Free Kids' Act back in 2010.
#reason i know this: im aroace and have beef with Michelle Obama over her healthy hunger free kids act of 2010.#like ok i get that kids should have healthy food but thats not what happened. they just made everything whole wheet and now we needed to#buy a fruit and veg that was either half rotten of from a can. if schools actually made heathy good food that would be one thing but#they didnt! we used to have these warhead ices and the food was good and we ate it all then 2010 hit and the food was suddenly shit#and with this came alot of food waste too no one wanted to eat the oranges that fell off the back of the truck and over cooked green beans!#jughead jones#jughead comics#archie comics#and i took culinary and putting kids in the room with other kids makes them tey new things. their's a way you can them to eat healthy food#its by having that food NOT TASTE LIKE ASS! and not LOOK LIOE ROAD KILL! and obviously im not actually hating at Michelle she had her heart#in the right place its just the road to hell is paved with good intentions. it didnt work. usa school lunch is a literal joke!#and also in part with this what getting kids to move more and that didn't happen either! you known what i would have done?#got rid of the physical fitness test and have kids play funs games. making kids compeat against each other is a shit way to get them to#enjoy exercise! let them play. dont make them compare themselves to their peers. dont stop fun play in elementary!#and maybe dont cut their portions at luch and have them movie more? if you want them to move they need fuel to move!#just i have thoughts about the health and hunger free kids act of 2010 and how it utterly failed.#michelle obama#the healthy hunger free kids act of 2010#school lunch#american school system#american school lunch program#comics#forsythe pendleton jones III#riverdale#yall get tagged get over it#aroace jughead#jughead#archie andrews#it fucked with school food and jughead loves food
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Metalman Auto Ltd. is a leading OEM automotive parts supplier, specializing in high-quality metal components for various vehicle types. We are a one-stop shop for sheet metal, tubular fabrication, metal finishing, and assembly of components for original equipment manufacturers (OEMs) in both automotive and non-automotive sectors. Established in 1986, we are among India's first companies to offer comprehensive metal fabrication, finishing, and assembly solutions.
Contact us at +91 240 665 2444 (Ext. 500) or
email [email protected].
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New Post has been published on https://www.vividracing.com/blog/take-a-seat-the-best-off-road-suspension-seat-is-here/
Take A Seat: The Best Off-Road Suspension Seat is Here
Thereâs tons of seats on the aftermarket! From Recaro to basic stock seats â you really have a lot of options to which seat you are going to scoot your bum into! However if you are an off-roader or looking for the most comfortable seat for long rides suspension seats might be the way to go! PRP seats is well known for their suspension seats but where did it all begin? Letâs find outâŠÂ
youtube
Back in 1997 Aaron Wedaking and his good buddy were building a baja bug from the bottom up. They built that Baja bug all on their own including the seats! After taking this prototype to Desert Ironwoods they decided to try to make a couple more seats. After making 8 more seats and selling them for $100 each they realized they were really onto something.Â
Aaron and his buddy decided to start selling these premier seats in three different colorways â black, green, and blue. Eventually, they came up with the name Premier Racing Products and their seats started selling like hotcakes. everyone who owned either a Baja bug or UTV wanted a PRP seat inside their rig!Â
27 years later PRP is known worldwide for its unique and custom variations of seats perfect for off-roaders, UTVs, and even boats! Their goal of making a dependable suspension seat has reached millions of customers due to the quality of the product. Made of tear-resistant mesh, sturdy frame, and popping colors â itâs hard to not stare at these amazing seats!Â
Check out what we have in stock at Vivid Racing from PRP! From seats to pouches and harnesses â get what you need here!
#aftermarket#ATV#bronco#car history#car parts#Chevy#Ford#Jeep#new#off roader#off-roading#seats#sidebyside#Truck#UTV#vividracing
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Winter's Chance
Summary: It's Rafe's turn to have your son for the weekend, but it seems the weather wants you to spend the holidays together.
--Finally some Baby Daddy Rafe
With delicate rubs to your son's tummy, you desperately tried to get him to calm down with soft pleads and overeager soothing. He'd been fussing all day, so much that you'd called the doctor to make sure everything was okay.
They simply reassured you that it may just be a prolonged stage of fussiness. Most babies grow out of it around 4 months which is exactly where Max had just reached a few weeks ago.
Just when he was finally beginning to calm for a moment your ears are filled with the chime of your doorbell. Max picks up his crying as if he had never stopped. Your eyes roll, already knowing who is on the other side of the door.
You gently scooped him up to rest over your shoulder on top of the little binkie you tend to have thrown over your shoulder at all times for moments like this. He was cute, but the spit-up was never pretty and you were always prepared.
Opening the door from a distance you weren't expecting to see Rafe step in partially covered in snow. It distracted you momentarily before Max's cries cut through the shock.
"I know, I know." You whine, gently rocking him, backing away from the cold air that swept against your feet. "Hurry up, and close the door." His eyes roll, "Hello to you too." He closes the door and stomps off the snow from his boots before stepping out of them and hanging up his jacket.
"Woah, woah, what are you doing? This is just a pick-up, then you can have fun trying to calm him down at your place." Rafe stands still, his thumb gesturing to the door behind him, "You haven't seen the news, have you? They're closing the roads, so we're snowed in. The only reason I made it here is because of the suspension on my truck."
Your face turns sour and Max continues to cry.
"So why did you come in the first place if you knew you wouldn't be able to make it back?" He ignores your question for the most part, "Relax, baby. As excited as you are to see me, I didn't come for you. I came for my son. There he is," Rafe's expression lights up as he reaches for Max and takes him out of your hold.
"Rafe you can't just take him and expect him to calm-"
For the first time in seven hours, silence consumes the room. No more screams and tearful cries. "You've got to be fucking with me," You don't say it loudly, but Rafe still hears.
"Guess he was just missin' his daddy, huh? Isn't that right, Max?" Rafe's tone is playful as he pokes at Max's tummy which elicits tiny giggles and the brightest smile you'd seen all day.
You walk away, headed towards the kitchen. Not sure why you were moving so fast, Rafe was hot on your heels. "It's not your fault, it's probably just been a long day-" He finally shuts the fuck up with his smug remarks when he hears a soft cry, "Y/n," Your name rolls off his tongue, tender and sweet. "Baby, what's wrong?" Effortlessly, he supports Max with one hand while he reaches to turn you so you're facing him.
Your eyes are filled with tears, lips quivering ever so slightly and he knows what's coming. He's seen you like this more times than he can count. He takes you under his arm, your cheek pressed to his chest and you break down, muttering into the fabric of his hoodie.
He comforts you with a big hand rubbing your back, soothing you the way he learned from those parenting books that he swear he never read. "It's so hard, Rafe." Is all you manage to say through broken cries for the first five minutes before you're pushing off him, expression more angry than upset? "He was crying all day, and the second you walk in, he's perfectly fine."
Rafe's lips frown, puzzled. "And that's a bad thing?--"
"Yes! Why do you get to be Superman?!" Earlier, the sound of a pin drop would disturb Max from calming, but now even your exclamations left him unfazed, as long as he was in Rafe's arms he was unbothered.
As a matter of fact, with a second glance, you notice he'd actually fallen asleep. Just Perfect. Another win for Superman.
He chuckles, leading you both to have a seat on the couch. Your son sleeping soundly in his father's hold. "Well, I think I've got the abs for it." His shit-eating grin spreads across his lips.
"You try carrying a baby in your stomach for nine months, and you tell me if you still have abs after." Subtly, his tongue wets his lips at the memory, "All I remember is how good you looked pregnant. Shit, wanna do it again?" You'd never wanted to hurt someone so badly.
"You're lucky you're holding my son." He scoffs, leaning in slightly as if to speak away from the baby. "I seem to remember the two of us going half on the conception, and a few times after that." You air-swat him and stand, making your way for the stairs. "I'm going to take a nap."
The hours flew by as you finally had your first uninterrupted nap in what felt like years. By the time you woke up, the sun was long gone, and there was a thick layer of fresh snow sitting on your window pane. You headed downstairs and stopped at the bottom of the steps to appreciate the view.
Nothing melted you quite like the sight of Rafe taking care of Max. You hated to admit it, but he was a good dad. A really good one. Hot, too. Rafe held the bottle to Max's lips, murmuring some undistinguishable babbles with a soft smile. Surely speaking a language only the two of them can understand.
"I hope you warmed the bottle before you gave it to him." You say, and he finally notices you standing by the stairs, stalking your way over and sitting beside him.He ignores you, knowing that you're just trying to get under his skin. "You look well rested." He remarks and you sigh with a soft nod. "Yeah, I am actually." He grins to himself, "Must be a miracle to sleep well on that cheap-ass mattress you got up there."
"Sorry, we can't all have premium mattresses." Rafe pulls the bottle back once he realizes Max has had his fill. "Y'know my money is your money right? I give you ten thousand a month but everything I have is yours, too." Standing him up on his lap first, Rafe holds the baby over his shoulder, gently patting his back.
"Well, I don't need to live in a fifteen thousand sq ft house to be happy unlike you." He shakes his head slowly, his gaze falls on you, somber. "I seem happy to you? I don't give a shit how big my place is. It's always going to be empty without you two in it... " He trails off, alluding there's more to come.
"Rafe.. What are you saying?"
"Move in with me, again." Your head shakes before you sputter profuse denials, "No, Rafe, we can't we tried that before remember? We don't get along. Technically, we're not even together." The conversation is briefly interrupted by a small gurgled burp on Max's behalf.
Rafe leans down to place a drowsy Max in his rocker in front of the couch before sitting back up. "Things were different then, we were eighteen. I can't do the back-and-forth anymore. Don't you wanna wake up in the morning, see that Max is taken care of and I'm making you breakfast, then we go back to bed and I take care of you? Huh?" He hums, his voice igniting sparks along the length of your neck as he nosed along it.
"Rafe.." your voice is shaky, feeling the heat from the discussion.
"Whadd'ya say, hm?" You reflect, having Rafe stay with you today, in just a few short hours you'd been able to take a break, he held you when you cried like he always did. You'd hardly even fought. Though that was no surprise, the two of you fought considerably less ever since Max came into the picture.
"Okay, yes." You can feel the lines from his smile stretch against your jaw just before he begins to pepper kisses on your cheek. "Y'know, we made the world's cutest baby ever right?" You smile, both your gazes focused on the little one before you.
"He's got your eyes, for sure." Rafe states and you giggle, "You're just saying that because they're brown." He sits up straight, heartfully disagreeing. "I'm not. They're the same eyes that I fell in love with when I first laid my eyes on you, and the same ones that humbled me when they looked up at me for the first time in the NICU."
His words were touching. You're seeing a whole new side of him. Not the usually hot-headed and impulsive man you were used to. This one was sweeter, softer, and more sincere.
You reeled him in for the first kiss, his lips soft as they pressed against yours, his hands confidently holding you at your waist. "Ah, I see you're taking me up on my previous offer. Let's go for a girl this time, yeah?" He grins, and you pinch him.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x you#rafe cameron smut#rafe drabble#outer banks smut#rafe obx#outer banks imagines#rafe smut#rafe cameron blurb#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe blurb#rafe cameron imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#bsf!rafe#rafe cameron drabble#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron fic#drew starkey smut#drew starkey#obx fic#outer banks#outerbanks rafe#obx#dilf rafe cameron#dilf rafe#baby daddy rafe
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cowboy!simon riley and city girl!reader when your car breaks down on the side of the road in the countryside
you weren't from around here, it was obvious in the way you dressed, and acted. hell, even the car you drove just screamed that you were from the city.
though if that didn't give it away, maybe it was the fact that your tiny little car was now parkedâbroken downâon the side of the road. a hand on your hip and the other wiping the sweat from your forehead as the blistering sun beat down on you.
you were convinced you were royally fuckedâthat you would be stuck to a night in your car. there wasn't any service, and there sure as hell wasn't anyone around.
at least that's what you thought until a massive, dirtied truck pulled off the road in front of your car. you swallowed a knot in the back of your throat that only travelled down to your stomach as you watched a tall, intimidating guy step out from the battered vehicle. his boots kicked against the road, scraping the tiny, loose rocks on the asphalt.
a cowboy hat hung low on his head, a fully black bandana tied around his face that covered his nose and lips, leaving only his dark, daunting eyes to sear into yours. his thumb hooked through the denim belt loop of his jeans, his other arm swaying by his side as he walked to the front of your car, which looked pathetically small next to his.
a quick look under the hood told him all he needed to knowâwith you and the car. he saw the way your eyes seemed to linger on his exposed arms after he had rolled up his sleeves. the dirt smudges along his skin, the dark ink of his tattoo and the veins that strained as he tinkered through the different parts of your car.
he claimed that he could fix it tomorrowâhe didn't have the tools with him! he claimed, but really, they were lying in the bed of his truck, but he didn't want to let such a pretty little thing like you go so quickly. he wanted to have a bit of fun first!
so he offered you a nice stay at his little farmhouse, with the promise of warm food and a comfortable bed to sleep on, and who were you to resist? it was either that, or sleep in the backseat of your carâand you knew which one you would've preferred.
"fuck, such a pretty little thing, ain't ya?" he praises with a beer in one hand, the other veined hand wrapped up in your silky hair, helping your body in pulling back into his cock. the couch creaked and rocked under the consistent shifting weight as he pistoned his hips forward.
the rocking of his hips was restrained in order to not spill his beerâotherwise he would've loved to completely wreck you on his meaty cock.
"gon' hafta keep ya around, ain't tha' right?" he grunted before taking a swift sip from the bottle.
when the beer got to the end of the bottle and he set the glass down, you were in trouble. with a swift movement, he had pulled out enough so only the angry tip of his cock teased your hole, slick with your arousal before driving his bulbous dick back into your sensitive pussy.
his hips pounded against your ass, turning your flesh red as the sound of skin slapping together carried through the house. his balls slapping against your glistening pussy with every slamming thrust, the sensation making your eyes roll back. he was determined to make a mess of youâmore so than he already did.
his fist clenched harder around your hair as the other went to your shoulder, a bruising grip against your flesh. he growled at the mindless moans spilling from your lips, only making him even more driven to fuck you brainless.
and don't worry, he will.
#ghost x reader#ghost x y/n#simon ghost fluff#simon ghost riley#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley fanfiction#ghost cod#simon ghost x reader#ghost call of duty#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost smut#simon ghost x you#cod ghost x you#cod ghost x reader#ghost smut#ghost simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#cod modern warfare#cod x reader#cod mw2#cod#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare 2#modern warfare#cod mwii#simon ghost Riley x female reader
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I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again
I mean, I am. But still.
So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.
So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.
At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.
Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell
So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.
I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is ÎÏÏ ÎŒÎčα ÏΔλÏΜα : I have a turtle.
This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.
Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.
I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.
Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.
We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.
"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."
"A what," he asks.
"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "ÎŒÎčα ÏΔλÏΜα"
"Oh! A turtle!" he says.
"But from the land. ΎΔΜ Î”ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč ÏΔλÏΜα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a ÏΔλÏΜα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.
The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where ÎżÎč ÏΔλÏÎœÎ”Ï come from and where η ÏΔλÏΜα ÎŒÎ±Ï belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.
"[somethingsomething] ÎŒÎčα ÏΔλÏΜα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.
"ÎÎΠΧÎÎΩÎÎ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.
"ÎŒÎčα ÏΔλÏΜα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.
"ÎÏÎżÏÎżÏΌΔ Μα ÎŽÎżÏΌΔ Ïη ÏΔλÏΜα ÏαÏ; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??
The children fucking love looking at the ÏΔλÏΜα and showing it to them is kind of magical?
I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say ÎŒÎčα ÏΔλÏΜα.
"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because ÏΔλÏΜα is feminine in Greek."
"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.
"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!
So "ÎŒÎčα ÏΔλÏΜα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.
(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)
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Its just. a truck. a shit ass truck, that sucks shit more than any other trucks on the road rn, which is impressive considering how bad modern trucks are. definitely not a sedan. not a van, its not a hatchback, its not an suv. It's got a bed for sure, even if its covered, they sell ? pickups with covered beds, or covers to put over the bed of a pickup you already own, to protect the bed. these exist. they dont turn the truck into a sedan or a van or an suv. Its just a extraordinarily shitty truck. It is a truck that sucks worse than any other truck you can buy rn which, as a truck hater, and a hater of cars made after like, 20teens at the latest, who thinks all trucks are disgusting and awful, is already a low bar. I'm not sure I get what we're doing here. Its just a truck that sucks. theres plenty of shit about it to make fun of it for relentlessly, theres no shortage of material here, you dont need to disparage the good name of any other these other vehicles, especially not a sedan, our last bastion left in usamerica against the ever encroaching light truck category taking over completely, since compacts and sub-compacts arent really available here anymore, not new models anyway.
Its a bad shitty truck, that is designed to live exclusively in the mildest, dryest, of climates with no weather at all, with a dedicated garage, and never do anything more strenuous than transport groceries for a single generic cishet nuclear family with 2.5 kids.
wait a sec. the cybertruck aint even a truck. it aint even a van, there's only the two rows of seating. mf's a sedan with angles
#reblog#cybertruck#i think? 2019? might be the latest year of vehicle you can buy here that counts as a sub compact without importing a foreign car#im sure they sell 'compact' sedans but like as a subcompact driver that shit is way too huge and i despise it all the more as a bad#replacement for what ive got#anyway. its a useless truck. which. a lot of modern trucks are? but its like. Extra Useless. it cant even be a car.#the groceries might be too much for it. cos it was seemingly designed with like. anti safety features and cheap shit ass parts like the#the accelerator pedal that gets stuck?#also i say 20teens at the latest cos my car is a 2015. but it was a very basic cheap version. it doesnt have a touchscreen or backup camera#it doesnt beep at me about backing up or changing lanes it doesnt stop on its own. its like a fancy car from the 2000s. it has bluetooth#that i dont use and everytime i hit the button by accident i immediately tell it cancel. the most modern things it has are the#volume buttons on the steering wheel in addition to the radio which i do like. and the digital speedometer which i do like as a#dyscalculiac bitch. even the driver side seat adjustments are like. analog. as opposed to the slow moving electronic adjustments in my#parents cars. even the old ones. i even still have beloved yellow headlights. and i dont. knownif i have auto headlights? if i do.#i have that off. i know that i would probably despise most cars from the 20teens tho cos thats when they started having all the Bullshit#put in. but an early 20teens fiat 500 is decent in how much tech shit its lacking. anyway. the cybertruck is a truck and it sucks at it but#its still a truck. a truck meant to be a garage queen that you take out on a nice day and is too precious to car wash#except apparently thats for actual warranty reasons and not just cos they wont take care of your baby adequately. at that point they#shouldve just made it a convertible. at least lean in to the fact you cant drive it in the rain dumbfuck. make it a convertible like a jeep#lmao. no they couldnt. all convertibles will leak eventually (not if but When) and they cant even keep water out of the frame apparently?#id love to see what a harsh winter does to it. im excited to watch them rot in a single season from a single drive on the plowed and salted#road. itll be cathartic for what new england is doing to my poor little baby car with no garage privileges and a shit ass car wash#and me being a neglectful parent to my Worst Pet (the car) and not callin to schedule a lanolin undercoating to protect it from rust :(#my car may be shit but at least its not a tesla. good god#i do have a car that gets stored in the winter but i think even the geo convertible would handle the new england winter better than a#cybertruck. i mean. i would never do that to grandpas car but still. it would handle it better. /I/ wouldnt but thats cos navigating#traffic at all any amount deals extra mega psychic damage in a stick shift. i can drive a stick shift no problem if literally no one else#is driving. it even has One(1) airbag#(its from. the 90s)#anyway. i despise regular trucks. and this has rocketed to being. One Of The Worst Trucks.
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rub one outâ(for your viewing pleasure-verse)
pornstar!eddie x director!reader
a cheeky (pun intended) bit of filth based on part of my blurb series. I was trying to keep the snippets short, but this just kinda poured out of me over the past couple days.
cw: sex work, simulated adultery, oral (fem receiving)
18+, MDNIâ2.8k
Maybe this was a bad idea.
You couldnât escape the nagging thought as you stepped outside, tightening the belt on your fluffy white bathrobe, tugging at the terrycloth tail and twisting it in your fingers. Your eyes flitted to each member of your crew, all of them in position waiting to get this show on the road.
Why were you so nervous? Youâd certainly done this enough times before not to get stage fright. So why did your stomach feel more tangled than the box of electrical cords in Lennyâs truck?
Part of you almost wished it would rain, or the ground would open up and swallow you whole so you didnât have to go through with this. But the concrete remained solid under your feet, and the sky overhead showed no signs of altering its radiant blue color. Perfect.
Itâs gonna be fine, you thought in an attempt to soothe yourself. Itâs all gonna be fine.
And you almost believed it would be.
Sammy, who was barely a step up from an intern, had swiftly been promoted once the plan for you to replace your no-show leading lady was set in motion. You werenât worried about her, thoughâshe was smart and a quick study; she knew all the shots you needed, and she had a good eye.
If you couldnât be behind the camera yourself, she was pretty much the only one you trusted.
WellâŠmaybe not the only one.
Eddieâs eyes met yours as soon as you stepped out of the trailer. The sunlight hit his deep brown irises, making them glow the color of rich honey. But behind the liquid gold, you could see his own nerves and it made your stomach flip, wondering what he could possibly be nervous about.
âHey,â he said quietly as he came up next to you. âYou good?â
For a moment, you considered lying. Flashing him a thumbs up or shooting him finger guns like one of those tools you used to do this with. But you knew better by now when it came to Eddie.
âNope,â you chuckled. âIâm kinda shitting myself.â
âWell, thatâs just what the guy about to fuck you wants to hear,â he chuckled back.
A real smile breaks through your tense, fake one and a genuine laugh bubbles up out of your chest. Eddieâs eyes shine when he hears it and the sight makes your chest feel all warm inside.
âNo, youâre right,â you said. âIâm okay, I justâŠdonât know why Iâm so nervous.â
His plush pink lips pressed into a straight line, his tongue poking out as he licked them. He reached out a reassuring hand and placed it on your shoulder, rubbing it through your robe.
âYouâre gonna be great,â he assured, sounding a lot more certain than you felt.
Easy for him to say. Heâs a fucking natural.
Even on your best day doing this, you never felt like you were great at itâcompetent, sure. Maybe even above average. But not great. Not at all the way you felt since getting behind the camera.
You nodded tightly, your hesitation still written all over your face. His eyes scanned over you and he swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing. He then leaned in and placed his lips beside your ear.
âYou lookâŠreally beautiful,â he said.
His warm breath rushed across your neck, the heat coming off his skin making your ears buzz. An explosion of fluttering began in your stomach, like there were butterfly cocoons in your cereal that morning and now they were all hatching.
âWe should get moving,â you said, pulling back. âBurning daylight.â
Eddie straightened. He nodded and you nodded back, sliding past him to do final checks before you started rolling. Telling yourself he must have pumped or popped a Viagra to explain away that bulge in his pants that definitely wasnât there before he came over to talk to you.
The nerves didnât disappear once you started working, but your body and brain did snap into a kind of performance mode you remembered well.
You started with some still photography for the VHS box artâshots of you in progressing states of undress, your robe dropping off your shoulder, Eddie pulling it open to reveal your body, his hand running up your thigh in a slow caress.
He let it trail all the way up your stomach and chest until he curled his finger under your chin and tipped your face toward his, letting his lips hover just inches away from yours. Your eyes fluttered closed and your heart raced, thinking he might close the gap and actually kiss youâ
But after the shutter snapped, he simply let his hand drop and backed away.Â
The loss of his body heat sent a chill down your spine and you shivered despite the blazing sun overhead. Eddieâs eyes caught yours, the nearly imperceptible lift of his brow asking, âyou okay?â You nodded and another shiver skittered across your skin as you pulled your robe back up.
For the next shot, you climbed up on the massage table and he got into position behind you. His body pressed yours down, your back arching under him as he dipped his head low to take the lobe of your ear between his teeth, palming your exposed breast with his large, strong hand.Â
You let your mouth hang open, not even needing to fake the look of desperation on your face. And let yourself believe Eddieâs excitement you could feel digging into the fat of your ass was real too. The little grunts and whines he let out when you wriggled against him certainly didnât sound fake.
After the photos, there was nothing left to do but move on to the main event.Â
You and Eddie resetâhim standing in frame, you just outside of it. Sammy panned the camera around, establishing the setting, zooming in on the fountain feature in the pool and then coming around to film Eddie as he snapped a fresh towel and laid it out on the massage table.
From your spot off-camera, itâs impossible not to be mesmerized by the sight. Biceps rippling, tendons in his arms flexing as he smoothed the towel flat. His tattoos stood out even more than normal with him in white slacks and a white polo meant to give the impression of him being an employee of the resort. And the little twist your hair and make-up girl Jael did is something new that only further accentuates the thick column of his neck and his angular jaw.
Heâd left off his rings and bracelets, as was typical when he was filming, and you couldnât help but think about that day in the editing suite. When heâd touched your knee, and you felt the silver ridges press into your flesh. It had jarred you somewhat, how right it felt to have his hand there and how youâd nearly leaned in to meet his lips when you saw his face getting closer.
You hadnât kissed him that dayâpromptly removing yourself from temptation in an attempt to salvage some shred of your professionalism. And you (mostly) felt good about that decision. It would have been reckless and destructive and your entire working relationship might have been compromised. Youâd made the right call that day, you were sure of it. MostlyâŠ
But today was different. Today, it wasnât going to derail your career. If anything, your career was mandating you give in to those urges that had plagued you so relentlessly. And that was when it hit you all at onceâthe realization about as subtle as a train crashing through a wall.
You were going to fuck Eddie.
Youâre going to feel firsthand what itâs like to have his face and cock buried between your legs; what itâs like to suck on his fingers and soak them with your spit before he presses them to your clit; what he sounds like when he comes all over your stomach or tits (you canât quite recall what the script specifies, you just know itâs meant to be outside so he can dotingly clean you up after).Â
The barrage of thoughts that storm through your mind are so consuming, you nearly miss your cue to enter the scene. But once you do, youâre rather grateful for the distraction of the set-up dialogue:
âItâll just be me, today. My husband has a meeting he couldnât get out of.â
âNo, no, itâs not his fault. I got it as a surprise for our anniversaryâI should have known better than to book it without checking his schedule.â
âIâm afraid I never know how much to take off for a massageâŠwhat do you suggest?â
Eddie answered your last question with a smooth, âWhatever makes you most comfortable,â and a smile so warm it would melt the ice caps.
Giving him a smile of your own, you slowly pulled at the tie of your robe. It fell to the ground in a heap at your feet and Eddieâs dark eyes roved over you hungrily. Now revealed to be completely naked, you feigned some degree of shyness: ducking your head low, looking up at him from underneath your lashes, brushing your hand over your stomach as though to hide it while really drawing his eyes to its plush softness.
âIs this alright?â you asked him with a coy smirk. Eddie grinned, still drinking you in.
âAbsolutely,â he breathed. And the raptness in his eyes almost had you believing him.
You took your time getting up on the table, propping yourself up on all fours, letting him (and the camera) take a good, long look at the fullness of your hips before you settled in place. Arms at your side, you took a deep breath as you laid flat on your stomach, relieved there wouldnât be much dialogue needed for this next part.
Through the little donut headrest at the end of the table, you saw Sammyâs feet as she moved in closeâfilming tight on Eddieâs hands while he pumped massage oil onto them and warmed it by spreading it between his palms.
Your chest tightened, nerves coiling in your stomach as you anticipated his touch, forcing your body to keep still so you didnât pull focus.
He smoothed some oil over your skin, starting at the ankles and thoroughly coating your calves. The smell of clary sage filled the air, earthy and warm. And underneath it, a clean and woodsy scent you recognized as Eddieâs soap wafted up to your nose when he leaned in closer.
His fingertips began to knead your muscles, slipping and sliding easily over your skin that was slick with the oil. He made tiny circles with his thumbs, alternating back and forth as they moved in a steady pattern up your calf.
Oh, thatâs rightâŠ
In all the hubbub, youâd forgotten the whole concept for this shoot was borne on the fact that Eddie went to massage school for real. Heâd told you before, after he left his hometown (shit, what was it again? Hawk-somethingâŠ) that he started collecting different jobs like merit badges.
Just bounced from thing to thing, trying his hand (sometimes both) at whatever life presented. And that included porn. Heâd said he only auditioned for that first film he did because someone heâd slept with a handful of times knew a casting director and suggested heâd be good at it.
âHe certainly had the dick for itâ were her exact words, if you recalled. Strange to think in a way, you might owe that girl your career.
Through the pleasurable haze your mind dipped into having Eddieâs capable hands erasing every ounce of stress you carried in your muscles, you realized he was moving the scene right along while you just lay there humming and moaning with relief at his practiced touch.
Heâd lowered his voice to that deep, rumbly register he always used when he was building towards the next phase. His DM voice, as he so affectionately dubbed it. Rough and gravely, yet even and tempered, guiding both you and the audience along on the journey of this fuck.
âI hope you donât mind me sayingâŠbut your husbandâs a jackass for missings out on this.â
Your heartbeat picked up in your chest as he moved to your thighs. His fingertips dug into your flesh, kneading it like dough, letting his thumbs swerve dangerously close to your center.
âYou deserve someone who puts you firstâŠwho knows what he has and worships youâŠâ
One of his thumbs swiped briefly over your puffy lips, and you knew he felt how wet you were.
âYou know, Iâd never let you out of my sight if you were mineâŠâ
His words dripped slowly and intentionally past his lips, his hands creeping higher and higher up your legs. At last, they slid over the globes of your ass and he groaned as he squeezed one in each hand, spreading you apart to see your center, soaked with arousal that had been pooling there, truth be told, from the moment Eddie had told you how beautiful you looked.Â
You heard Eddieâs next line in your head before he said it, âIf you really want to relax, I can try a very special technique. I donât do it for just anyone. Itâs a little bitâŠunorthodoxâŠâ
And you were more than ready to take him up on his offer once he delivered the line.Â
But Eddie went off script.
Instead of hearing words, you felt the wet heat of his tongue glide through your folds as he buried his face between your spread ass cheeks. Your head popped out of the headrest, letting out a breathy moan of surprise and delight.
The shock on your face was evident as Sammy pushed in close to capture your expression, but so was your pure and utter elation. Youâd never felt anything so good in your lifeâŠ
And it seemed you werenât the only one.
Eddie groaned loudly as he lapped messily at your folds, his spit mixing with your slick that covered the bottom half of his face. And it was only after a few blissful seconds of eager licking that he even realize what heâd done.
âIâmâmmphâsorry, Iâm sorry, Iâm so sorryââ He panted out in between sinful swirls of his tongue, his he words muffled by your ass cheeks because he couldnât stand to pull away even a little, even long enough to speak. âI had to taste youâŠâ
âItâs okay,â you answered, voice already wrecked beyond belief. âItâs okay, just keep goingââ
The command is directed at him as much as it is the crew, who only panicked slightly. Eddie never did stuff like this and they just werenât ready.
They got back on track quickly enough, Sammy signaling the boom mic to get as close as he can without dipping into frame in order to pick up every lurid slurp and suck of Eddieâs mouth.
After no more than a few minutes, the fluffy towel under you was bunched in your fists and your hips squirmed as Eddie continued to eat you out like a mad man. His tight grip on your ass cheeks held fast, spreading you wider still so his tongue could probe deeper. The sounds he pulled out of you didnât even sound human to your ears, let alone recognizable as your own voice.Â
But you didnât care.
However you sounded, however you looked, it was superfluous to what Eddie was doing and the precipice he brought you to. Your orgasm hit harder than any drug, than any physical blow. It had you shaking uncontrollably, reaching back to grip the hair at the crown of his head as your hips pushed back to meet every thrust of his tongue while you rode out your exceptional high.
You felt its tingling sensation spread to every inconsequential inch of your body, like an ocean of fire that crashed over you in wave after wave of scorching pleasure. Drowning you in it.
When you finally found the strength in your limp limbs to roll over onto your back, Eddieâs eyes were waiting to meet yours. You could see on his face how sorry he was, how worried he was heâd fucked up. And you tried to communicate with him in that mind-melding, wordless sort of way you and he always did that it was fineâthat people were going to love it.
Cocking your brow at him, dipping into a more salacious tone to really sell the transformation from demure housewife to lusty adulterer, you threw in a little adlib of your own.
âThatâs some technique youâve got there,â you teased him, propping yourself up on your elbows. âMy husbandâs certainly never done that before.â
Eddieâs sly smile returned, his lips curling as he reached out to grip your waist. He hauled you closer with one jerk, bringing you to the edge of the table so your hips were flush with his. The bulge in his white pants was harder than ever when it pressed against your cunt, and he grinned wickedly when he felt just how ready you were for more. He yanked up the shirttail of his polo and whipped it off his body, tossing it behind him where it landed half in the pool.
âOh, sweetheart,â he tutted softly, âyou ainât seen nothing yet.â
Tysm for reading! đž comments and reblogs keep your skin clear and your crops watered đ«¶đ»
#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie stranger things#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson smut#stranger things au
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Do you think MOB's ex would ever come looking for her one day?
mail-order bride
simon opens the door for you, taking your hand as you get out of his truck. you brush off the front of your jeans, smiling as you step around him and onto the sidewalk.
"said an hour or so?" simon mutters, shutting the door behind you. you nod, looking around at the shops.
"yeah, i just need some things, but i also wanna look around. maybe get some books or something...i don't know."
simon shrugs, flipping his hood up over his head. he bends to give you a kiss over the mask, and you thumb at his jaw gently.
"i'll pick ya up 'ere in an hour then," simon murmurs. "call me if ya need somethin', love. and if yer not back 'ere in an hour and ya haven't texted me, i'll come lookin' for ya."
you giggle, "i know, simon. i'll see you."
he smiles under the mask, you can tell by the way it moves and the way his eyes crinkle a little. you lean up and give him another kiss over the mask before making your way down the main road, stepping into a boutique to look for some new clothes. you wave at simon as he passes by, and he salutes you before driving off.
you love spending time in town. you love visiting the shops, getting pastries, having some tea by the bookstore and buying little trinkets from the antique shop. simon likes the cheese shop. they sell some of his favorite french cheese, and they have wonderful wines that they pair with it that you love drinking together for dinner. you pick up a bottle along with some cheeses and bread, and just as you leave the shop, you bump right into a solid back, dropping one of your bags and nearly tripping into the road.
"oh, fucking hell!"
you gasp, clutching the rest of your bags to yourself. the man turns around, glaring at you, and you feel sick.
what the fuck is he doing here?
"oh well...isn't this a wonderful surprise?" he snorts. you pick up your fallen bag and straighten up, stepping back to create distance between you.
"hi..." you clear your throat. "i...i'm meeting someone, i have to go--"
"oh, where are you going?"
he blocks you from stepping around him. you meet his eyes, taking a deep breath. he always liked being able to control every aspect of you, from where you stood to what you did that day. your skittishness...your apprehensiveness...it's ingrained in you from your time with him. it's hard to explain being afraid of someone who never even really touched you, but you left before you thought it could get that far.
"that's really none of your business," you say softly. "excuse me."
he sidesteps again when you do, and this time you frown.
"you..." you glare at him. "...need to get out of my way."
he grins, a humorless laugh coming out of him. you don't like the way he's standing there, and you don't like how calm he is.
"oh, i didn't realize little kitty had grown some claws."
maybe you have. you've started to shed your scared exterior, mostly because there is someone behind you now, someone bound to you, supportive enough to make you more confident, braver, stronger. you stand a little taller, clenching your jaw, and you close the distance, stepping closer, and you cant your chin up so you can look at him hard.
"i don't know what you're doing here," you say lowly, "but you need to get the fuck out of my way, or you're going to have some other problems that you certainly can't handle."
he raises a hand, about to touch the lapel of your jacket. you grip his wrist, holding him there, and you tilt your head to the side.
"and if you touch me, you'll be sorry for it. now step aside, asshole, or i will make it a very hard day for you."
"c'mon," he chuckles. "let's go get a drink. there's a pub just down that way--"
"what part of no, and get out of my way, makes you think i wanna have a drink with you?" you scoff. "are you serious? are you that stupid that you think--"
"you listen here," he snaps, pointing his finger, getting in your face. "it's not my fault that you're--"
you step backwards when a big hand comes around you, snatching his wrist and yanking his finger out of your face. you look to your side to see simon standing there, shuffling in front of you, putting himself between you.
"now, i don't much care for interrupting, but you've got y'r fuckin' finger in my wife's face, and i'd like to know why."
you take a glance at your watch, and you realize it's past the time simon said he would pick you up. you sigh, reaching up and sliding your hand up simon's arm, and he lets go.
"it's fine," you tell him. "he was just on his way out."
he's shaking. stumbling backwards, clutching his wrist, glancing between you two. simon holds his hand out finally, beckoning him.
"your wallet."
"w-what?"
"give me y'r bloody wallet," simon snaps.
"simon--" you try, but he clicks his tongue as he snatches the wallet from him, shuffling an ID card out before reading his name out loud, and his address. simon chuckles darkly, cracking his neck before tossing the wallet at his chest.
"i know y'r name," simon murmurs. "and i know where ya put y'r head at night. where ya piss. where ya change y'r clothes. if i ever see ya talk to my wife again...if i even see ya walk down the same fuckin' road as 'er, i'll come and visit you. and we'll 'ave a chat."
"r-right, i--" he stuffs his wallet into his pocket before leaving, hurrying down the road. he doesn't even look back, doesn't look behind him. when simon turns around, you can tell just by looking into his eyes that he's angry.
he reaches over and takes the shopping bags from you, holding them in his sweaty fists as he nods his head towards his truck down the road.
"let's go," he snaps, and you hurry to follow him, reaching for his bicep. you hold onto it gently, stopping him, tugging him towards you as you block him by stepping in front of him.
"simon," you look up at him. "hey--"
"who was tha'?" he asks.
"a terrible nobody," you say softly. "one that i would rather forget."
"i--"
"thank you," you interrupt him gently. "for standing up for me. thank you...thank you for always believing me. for supporting me. for always showing up when it matters, thank you..."
simon bends, leaning his forehead against yours, and he breathes in shakily.
"your pain is mine," simon mutters. "your...discomfort is my discomfort, your joy is my joy."
you both close your eyes, smiling, and he hums when he feels another kiss, soft, the lightest press against his mouth that he feels ten times stronger than normal.
"i love you, simon," you whisper. you hear the bags drop onto the floor, and then two big hands cup your face, leaning it back, and he stares down at you almost painfully. it feels like you aren't real. he feels like it must be a dream, like this can't be his reality.
"i love you more, baby."
but when simon opens his eyes, you're still there.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#order up
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You and Simon had spent the better part of the morning indulging in the decadent breakfast you had prepared as the sun rose over the horizon.
He pleaded for you to stay in bed and not fuss about making him breakfast. Heâd get you those bagels you loved from the shop down the road and some fresh cream cheese from the dairy to slap on top.
You leaned closer, placing a smack of a kiss on his cheek. âYou deserve it, hon,â you smiled, slipping on your cozy slippers and one of Simonâs hoodies, happily making your way into the kitchen. He couldnât help but sink into the mattress. How did he manage to find you? A divine blessing you were.
You thought you overdid it with all the food you made. Crepes, waffles, bacon, sausage, eggs, all to be washed down with some fresh-pressed juice from your orange treesâfar too much for just the two of you. But Simon would be damned if he left even one piece of the crispy bacon uneaten.
âGood?â you asked with a smile, fiddling with a waffle on your plate as you watched Simon demolish his food.
âDamn good, baby. Got me such a pretty chef,â he muttered, biting some egg. You flashed him a smile, tipping your head towards him as you reached for the syrup, filling every hole on your waffle.
A comfortable silence fell over both of you. The occasional âclankâ of silverware and the soft hum of the heater kicking on were the only noises to be heard. The doorbell sharply rang, echoing off the walls of the hallway and bleeding into the kitchen.
You sat your fork down, easing your way up before Simon shooed you back down and placed your fork back in your hand. âEat,â he mutters as he walks to the front door.
Simon swings open the front door to be met by the postman, who is staggering with excitement as he hands Simon a loose envelope. The postman tips his head slightly, viewing you inside, standing, and placing more bacon on Simonâs plate. Simonâs hoodie hit just below the curve of your ass, and as you moved, it shifted a little higher, giving him a view of your panties.
âI suggest you stop making looks at my wife, or Iâll do more than just kill that pretty pension check,â Simon says, ripping the envelope from the postmanâs hand. The guy's eyes flick to Simonâs in record time, full of worry.
âI donât know whatââ he starts, his tone defensive.
âYou think Iâm an idiot?â Simon stoically says, crossing his big arms over his chest. âHuh?â
âNoâI, I,â The post guy stutters.
Simon raises a brow. âCanât speak now?â The post guy says something incoherent, and Simon breathes impatiently.
âUse your fuckinâ words,â Simon hurriedly says.
âIâI you know what, I, I, Iâm gonna go,â the post guy stammers, almost falling over the porch's front steps, flalling to his mail truck, but not before shouting, âThe next shipping is on me.â You bet your ass it is.
Simon clenches his teeth as he closes the door, turning to see you standing behind him. âBaby, I think you scared him,â you laugh out. Simon reaches out, grasping your hand and pulling you closer. You yelp as Simon pulls you flush with his body, placing a kiss on the top of your head.
âFuckinâ animal, that one,â he mutters into your hair.
Simon never really believed in coincidences. His brain was too methodicalâcalculated. It was something you learned from your long history together.
So, it was odd to hear him say to the police that it must have been a coincidence that the same day he gets into a scrabble with the postman, he goes missing and is then found dead in a lake with bruises covering his body.
It was definitely a coincidence.
a/n: your honor my client didn't commit that crime! just trust me!
#ËÊâĄÉË: rylea writes#shorty fic while i work on my long one!#call of duty#cod#cod x reader#fanfic#simon riley#simon ghost riley#ghost#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#cod x you#cod fanfic#simon riley imagine#simon riley cod#simon riley call of duty#simon ghost x reader#ghost simon riley#simon riley fanfic#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost riley#cod ghost#ghost x reader#ghost cod x reader#cod modern warfare#call of duty x reader#call of duty fanfic#call of duty fanfiction#call of duty ghost
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BTW following distance:
There are a ton of various ways that people recommend you track following distance in your car for safety, and most of them are some measure of distance or time. I don't know what a hundred yards looks like. I don't know how many is ten carlengths. I measure in time.
The way that I do this is I watch the car in front of me pass an object and I count how long it takes me to get to the same object. Car in front of me passes a line in the pavement? One mississippi, two mississippi, three mississippi, four mississippi - it takes me four seconds to get to the line.
The faster you are going, the faster TRAFFIC is going, the more time you need for following distance because it's going to take longer for your fast-moving car to stop than it would for your slow-moving car to stop. You need even MORE time if your car is HEAVY, which is part of why it is rock fucking stupid when people dart in front of semis or when massive pickup trucks start tailgating.
With enough practice you get a good feel for what is a safe distance in various conditions (wet road after a long period with no rain? you need A FUCKING LOT of space), but one of the better ways to learn this is to play what I call the traffic game.
When you're playing the traffic game, you sit in traffic behind the car in front of you and you count how many times they press their brakes to each time you press yours, resetting to zero each time you put your foot on the brake.
If you are leaving good following distance, you should almost never use your brakes while driving on the highway because momentum should be enough to slow you down and keep you back if you're getting close to another car. If you have to brake frequently, you're too close for your speed.
Playing this game will make you a better, safer driver who is more aware of traffic and has a better feel for driving conditions. It has the added benefit (for me) of making traffic more fun to sit in as you try to beat your personal record (mine is 48; the driver in front of me pressed their brakes 48 times before I had to press mine).
Reset to zero when you have to brake, or when another car moves in front of you. You're allowed to ignore brake presses when going downhill but have to have double penalties if you brake while going uphill.
The *minimum* following distance at ANY speed and in ANY vehicle is far enough back that you can see where the tires of the vehicle in front of you touch the ground. If you have to brake hard enough that you can't see where the tires in front of you are you need to get off the road and practice driving more in empty parking lots because you are a hazard.
Remember that you are ALWAYS responsible for an accident if you rear end someone - if you rolled into another car because the car behind you hit your car, you were too close! If you rear-ended a driver in front of you because they braked suddenly for a cat in the road and you couldn't stop in time, you were too close! Leaving sufficient distance between you and the car in front of you is basically the most important thing that you can do to improve your road safety once you're past the basic stages of situation awareness and knowing how to check your blind spot. You do not want to be responsible for an accident! You do not want to risk injuring or killing people with your vehicle! One of the single best ways you can avoid that risk is by leaving sufficient following distance!
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love & company || r. sukuna
⊠biker ryomen sukuna x female biker reader || non-curse au
⊠oneshot
â you're beginning to lose hope of ever fixing your bike as the moon rises over the horizon when a man built like a brick wall and covered in tattoos stops to help you out. he's standoffish and his words are cold - but as it turns out the version of him you see is soft. who knew this man could ever become your best friend, let alone something more? â
⊠warnings ; 18+ only. contains explicit content. friends to lovers. fluff. hurt/comfort. p in v. fingering. oral (f! and m! receiving). degradation (slut). choking. pet names (princess, brat, woman, girl). size kink. rough sex. unprotected. biting. hair pulling. manhandling. toxic relationship (not sukuna). manipulation (not sukuna). reckless driving. use of alcohol and cigarettes. reader is implied to be short/small mostly in comparison to sukuna but he's huge so. ooc warning for sukuna given that this is modern and i want him to be more realistically human. i probably got some of the bike information wrong.
⊠words ; 24.2k.
masterlist
A cool evening wind chills your skin as you hunch over your bike on the side of the road. Youâre thankful for your thick leather jacket to protect you from the brisk winds, but it doesnât make it easy to work when your thoughts continue to stray to the fast-approaching night.
Your Kawasaki motorcycle puttered to a stop an hour ago and youâve been on the side of the road ever since. Of course it would happen today of all days, where your patience runs thin and you want nothing more than to be curled up in bed.
Your small array of tools that you keep for times like these are finally proving useful, but you can hardly bring yourself to care as you run out of things to check. Youâre almost certain the issue is a clogged fuel line at this point but without the necessary tools to check, youâre fresh out of ideas on what to do aside from calling a tow truck.
The sound of another passing motorbike is grating on your ears as someone speeds by on a bright red Ducati and you want to curse them out just for having a working bike, but to your surprise, they circle back a minute later and pull up next to you.
A broad-shouldered figure steps off the bike, pulling a dark helmet off and giving his head a shake, running a hand through his pink hair to give it a naturally windswept look. Tattoos line his sharp jaw and scars litter his right eye. Deep near-crimson eyes lock on you, a mildly cold expression spread over the tall manâs features. Heâs just about the textbook definition of what you would think of as a âbad boyâ.
He looks you over before taking in the state of your bike. The sight of you covered in grease and oil sitting in defeat on the ground is amusing to him to say the least- you donât much look the part of a biker between your small figure and approachable stature but one look at your bike and attire tells him not to judge a book by its cover.
âNeed a hand?â
Unfortunately for the tattooed man, heâs caught you in a bad mood.
âNo,â you grumble, picking up your wrench and dipping back into a rhythm of checking everything.
âIâve got more tools than just a wrench,â he offers. Your intense gaze looks him over again, surveying the black leather hanging off his shoulders and red helmet that matches his bike tucked under his elbow.
âI can handle myself,â you insist, not keen on accepting a strangerâs help, especially given his cold expression.
âDidnât say you couldnât,â he retorts with a click of his tongue. âJust askinâ if you want a spanner or pliers.â His eyes flicker to the moon rising in the sky. âOr a flashlight.â
You follow his gaze out to the rising moon, its light not offering enough of a look at your bike to be all that helpful as night begins to fall.
You sigh, wiping perspiration from your forehead with the back of your hand. The manâs lips quirk upwards in a minute smirk at the sight of the grease you accidentally wipe on your head. He thinks itâs cute.
âA spanner would be helpful,â you give in, pulling a pair of pliers from where youâd set them down beneath your knee to show you did at least have a couple of tools handy.
Pulling his hands from his pockets, the tall man turns to the backpack heâd set on the ground behind him. He sets his helmet on the seat of his bike and pulls out a spanner, handing it to you in place of the torque wrench youâve set at your side.
Heâs silent as you thank him and begin adjusting the spannerâs size to detach the fuel line. Standing in silence, he does little more than watch given that you donât seem to want his help.
When the fuel line finally detaches, you groan as you realize youâd been right about the problem the entire time and the line is blocked. Without an air compressor, there isnât much you can do to get your bike running again and your shoulders slump in defeat.
âNow dâyou need a hand?â He asks with a raised brow and a small smirk.
The look you shoot him is fiery and heâd be a liar to say he doesnât think your attitude is cute. It suits the strange vibes he gets from you in the best of ways.
âIâll just call for a tow,â you insist, still refusing the help of the stranger you know nothing about, aside from the fact that he has just about the most high-end street legal sports bike in pristine condition and you find it to be pretentious.
âSuit yourself. I can fix it for free, though.â
You press your lips into a thin line, brow furrowed as you look over his features. The man practically towers over you, heâs built like a tank and dwarfs you in every sense. His expression is aloof, giving away very little about him. You have no reason to believe heâs lying though, so with a sigh, you give in and hand him the spanner heâd lent you.
The man lowers himself beside you, disconnecting the other side of the fuel line entirely as he begins pulling apart the carburetor. You sit back, watching your bike attentively as though he might do damage to it, but his fingers move deftly as if this is all muscle memory to him.
âWhatâs your name?â You ask as the silence stretches on. Itâs a surprisingly comfortable silence, as he grabs a rag and water bottle from his backpack. He glances at you as he wets the rag and begins cleaning the carburetor.
âSukuna.â
âYou know your way around a bike.â
âBeen riding for a while.â
You nod. Despite his kind actions, his words are distant and frigid, so you decide not to push the subject.
Itâs silent for a while as you sit with your hands splayed on the asphalt behind you, watching his actions. Your eyes survey the man hunched over your bike, admiring the smooth lines of the tattoos that line his jaw, more ink just barely visible along his neck from beneath his jacket. His hair looks freshly dyed and his right eye is dotted in long scars that have you wondering what happened.
If the situation were any different, you might be hesitant to accept his help, but in truth youâre too tired to complain.
Itâs not much longer before your bike is back together. Wiping his hands with the rag, he nods to the bike.
âGive âer.â
Pushing yourself to your feet, you turn the key. The engine flips once, twice, three times, before finally sputtering to life.
âOh my god, thank you so much,â you sigh in relief, shaking your head. âI thought the issue was the fuel line,â you groan over the sound of the engine.
âIt is. You need to replace it, this should get you a few miles away though.â
You nod affirmatively, reaching down to hand back his tools. Sukuna dumps them in his bag and throws it over his shoulder.
âYouâre a lifesaver, I donât know how to thank you,â you tell him, your mood no longer sour as your bike continues to roar, thankfully not dead on the side of the road anymore.
âDonât worry âbout it.â He simply shrugs.
âLet me buy you a drink, or something,â you insist in spite of your exhaustion, though his cold demeanor doesnât give you much hope that heâll accept anyway, so you figure youâll be able to get some rest regardless of the offer.
As he turns to grab his helmet, you half expect him to start his bike and drive off without another word, ignoring your offer entirely. Itâs just the impression he gives you, but he surprises you.
âKeep up, then.â
Your brow raises and before you have a chance to complain that youâre covered in a layer of sweat and grease and youâd meant at a later date, his bike is roaring to life.
You scramble onto your own bike and follow him closely. Sukuna is half-shocked when you actually pull up into the parking lot of a small bar right behind him, pulling your helmet off and shaking your head in an effort to fix your hair.
He would be lying if he said he didnât find everything about you intriguing. From your bike to the way you ride and your feisty disposition all packaged in such a tiny figure compared to him, he thinks itâs cute. Maybe even something more than that.
He leads the way to the bar wordlessly as you complain about the grease coating your body, but he barely notices the oil marking your skin. Heâs used to it, if anything, from working on his own bike.
You arenât even sure if heâs listening given his flippant attitude and lack of response, but you drone on regardless. Itâs better than silence.
Choosing to ignore your frustrated rambles, he orders a whiskey and glances in your direction.
âIâll have what heâs having,â you tell the bartender with a sweet smile, waving your hand in the air like you donât much mind what exactly youâre drinking. Itâs your turn to surprise Sukuna.
âDonât think I caught your name,â Sukuna says as you lean over the bar beside him.
You tell him your name with a sweet smile, your mood clearly improved as you take the whiskey and damn-near down it in one swift movement.
When your eyes land on Sukuna again, heâs smirking. Heâs not really sure what to make of you nor you of him, but he certainly likes it.
Though you both elect not to have any more alcohol in favor of driving home later, conversation comes easily for the rest of the hour. At least, as easily as it comes for Sukuna.
âWhereâd you get your bike?â You ask decidedly, trying to make conversation with the stoic individual.
âA shop up north.â
âLooks like it cost a pretty penny.â
He hums in approval.
Thatâs about how most conversations with him go, so when you throw your jacket on and insist you should get home, youâre admittedly surprised when he pauses and holds his hand out expectantly.
You stare up at him curiously. Not once had you gotten the impression he was interested in any of your conversations, yet now he wants something from you? You canât decide what to make of this, what to make of him.
âSorry, um,â you stare down in confusion at his expectant hand, mouth opening and closing as you try to decide what to say.
âYour phone,â he instructs and your pretty eyes widen as you stare up at him, the difference in stature between you both now incredibly apparent as he dwarfs you when standing over you.
âOh!â You stare at him with pursed lips and pull your phone out, opening it to your texts. He sends himself a text and hands your phone back wordlessly, before turning his shoulder as he walks out abruptly, leaving you further confused.
Chasing after him, you just barely catch him as he kicks his bikeâs stand up and throws his helmet on.
âThanks again!â You call after him. He glances over his shoulder and though you canât see his expression behind the dark visor of his helmet, he smirks back at you before driving off.
As you just barely make it back home on your sputtering bike, you manage to replace the fuel line and shoot him a text.
11:53 PM You || fixed the fuel line. thanks again, youre a lifesaver
11:55 PM Sukuna || thanks for the drink.
In all honesty, you figure thatâs the last youâll ever hear from him, but you quickly find out that the cold disposition he gives off isnât really all there is to him when he asks if you want to go to a bike show a week later.
He fails to mention that his youngest brother Yuji would be joining you for the show, but as you walk the show floor with him and his younger sibling, you realize his brother likely just got all the conversation genes.
Sukuna is still aloof, he doesn't say much to you outside of comments about the bikes and even though heâs the one that invited you, you still can't tell if he enjoys your company. Although heâs quiet, his presence is surprisingly alluring and you're grateful to have someone to listen to your ramblings, even if he doesn't seem interested.
As you walk the length of the convention hall, weaving between crowds of people that seem to part at Sukunaâs menacing figure, Sukuna pauses to look at gorgeous black Yamaha. You barely catch the way he silently stops, managing to point out the pause to Yuji just in time to keep you all from getting separated.
âDonât think Iâve heard him talk this much in ages,â Yuji comments with a raised brow. You tilt your head towards him, following his gaze to Sukuna.
âReally?â
âYeah,â the younger man scratches the back of his head. âI donât have my license yet but I like lookinâ around. Heâs usually pretty snippy about which bikes I should be looking at,â he shrugs. âYou guys must have a lot in common for him to be so chatty.â
Chatty, you practically scoff to yourself. The man barely said ten sentences to you.
You do notice the way he shoots Yuji a glare or groans about his chatting on occasion, though. Not once does he direct that at you.
Even still, you don't expect him to keep inviting you out. Ten sentences isnât exactly something to form a friendship on.
Continuing to surprise you, you still hear from him. Next thing you know, youâre invited to ride with him and his brother Choso, invited out to dinner with a group of his friends and he even accepts your invite to see a horror movie with a couple of your friends.
Youâre quick to learn that Sukuna is just like that.
Sukunaâs mild and somewhat haughty disposition is something you grow accustomed to as you learn how to talk to him. Though you find yourself talking mostly at him, you realize thatâs just how he likes things. He pays a surprising amount of attention to your words, though you donât tend to notice until he shows it through actions later.
He shows up to your work with takeout on his lunch break when you mention you forgot your lunch. He goes shopping with you despite his distaste for malls when you tell him you need some new clothes. Heâs more agreeable when youâre around and his friends are quick to point it out, insisting you need to be there at all times to make him more tolerable, though theyâre mostly joking.
He does treat you differently from the rest of his friends. You figure itâs just because your friendship is new, though.
After being invited along on a ride down the highway to a neighboring small town with Sukunaâs friend Uraume and his brother Choso, you eye up Sukunaâs plate. Youâd ordered no side with your meal but god his fries look good. You shoot him a curious glance, met with his typical aloof expression, if not one of mild irritation. Glancing again at his fries, you reach over to steal one, pleased when you pop it in your mouth.
Sukuna rolls his eyes at you, muttering under his breath about you âbeing a bratâ and how âyou should have ordered a sideâ, but itâs all a show as he lets you steal another one when you smile sweetly at him.
When Choso follows your act, wanting to try the fries as well, Sukuna swats his hand away with a hiss. âMy plate isnât a buffet,â he growls contemptibly. Choso wrinkles his nose, shaking his hand of the harsh slap.
When Sukuna gets up to use the washroom, Choso waits until heâs out of earshot to comment.
âHow the hell did you get away with getting some of that assholeâs fries?â
You shrug. âDunno. He just let me.â
âGrumpy bastardâŠâ
Again, you insist you just donât know him well and heâs being kind so the action is brushed off.
A week later, Sukuna insists you tag along with his buddy Toji to get drinks, but when you arrive at the meeting spot and pull your helmet off, Sukuna is haughtily arguing with the raven-haired man.
âCâmon, itâs cheap. Their foodâs fine.â Toji insists with little more than a raised eyebrow and an unamused sigh.
âWhat food?â You ask with a smile as you saunter over to the two much taller men.
âRedâs,â Toji responds gruffly, his unamused expression turning to one of intrigue as he realizes you must be Sukunaâs friend. âYou must be y/n.â
You grin at him as he smirks.
âToji,â he introduces himself. âNow can ya tell this asshole that Redâs is cheap?â
Sukunaâs arms are crossed over his chest. âWe can do better for cheap.â He all but hisses, his eyes fixed in the distance.
âIâve never been,â you glance between the two with pursed lips, mentally chuckling to yourself at how much you have to look up to both men. âI think it sounds good.â
Sukunaâs arms fall to his side as his fiery eyes lock on you. He pauses for a moment, sparing a glance at Toji, but those deep eyes return to you with a begrudging sigh as he grumbles something under his breath.
âFine.â
Tojiâs eyes widen as he dangles his keys from his hands, his expression thoughtful. After a moment, he fists the keys as he gets ready to get in his car and head to the bar. He pauses before opening the door, a shit-eating grin spread over his scarred lips.
âThink I need ya to tag along more often, y/n.â He catches the tilt of your head and chuckles. âThink ya tame this shithead a bit.â
Sukuna roars something at Toji as he tries to catch him before the door slams and the car speeds off, leaving you giggling at the interaction.
Tojiâs not the last to point it out, either.
You donât think much of it, though. Sukuna just shows he cares through his actions and thatâs how you come to know him as your best friend.
Sukuna is, of course, smitten with you. He adores how perfectly you seem to understand him. He loves the way you invite him along to everything with your friends despite his tendencies to scare others off. He loves that in spite of the trouble he gets himself into, your opinion of him never changes. He loves that you text him about stupid things, and that even when his response is inhospitable, you continue to text him like you would any other friend.
Because youâre his best friend. And he wonât admit it to anyone, but you know. He knows you know.
You get him.Â
So of course when you excitedly text him about your date, you have no way of knowing that his naturally cold responses are no longer his usual tone. Theyâre frigid, maybe even mildly snarky, but over text you donât see the way his brow is knit tightly in contempt.
When he meets your boyfriend for the first time, you notice the strange tension between your best friend and partner. Your boyfriend brings it up but you had warned him in advance that Sukuna comes across that way, so you brush it off as little more than Sukuna being himself.
Yet, you notice the little things. Youâve known Sukuna for a long time now. You notice the way his jaw tightens when he sees your boyfriend lean down to kiss you at a dinner for your birthday a year into your relationship. You tilt your head questioningly at him from across the table, a silent query, but he doesnât give you a response, that mild expression never once leaving his eyes as he leans back in his seat.
âKuna?â Your sweet voice pulls his attention down to you when you pull him aside as everyone is saying goodnight outside the restaurant. âWhatâs wrong?â
âNothinâ.â
You cock your brow at his flippant response, dismissing you with a wave of his hand. âI know you well enough to know youâre lying,â you insist with an expectant look.
God, that look makes his hardened expression falter. Sukuna is well aware that heâs unapproachable, scary even. His form is built and he towers over most everyone, not to mention his constant disinterested expression and the tattoos he sports.
You often tease him for his âresting bitch faceâ.
Yet here you are, hand on your hip, so small and sweet, a fire lit behind those gorgeous eyes of yours. Cute.
âItâs just been a long day, donât worry âbout it.â He knows you donât believe him, but itâs the best youâre getting and you know that as well as he does. Hurt flashes through your eyes and he does feel a pang of guilt, but he keeps it locked away as he sighs and pulls something from the pocket of his leather jacket. âHappy birthday, by the way.â
Your wide eyes look up at him in shock. Youâd insisted no one should get you a gift, but when you texted him this morning and told him your boyfriend, so cheerily talking to your friends behind the two of you, had forgotten your birthday, he couldnât leave you empty-handed in that way.
You gingerly reach out and take the box from him. You know what it is instantly and the way your cheeks redden, the way it shocks you to silence has him smirking, mostly to himself. His hands remain in his pockets, his unamused expression locked on your hands that hesitate as you slowly open the velveteen box.
Lying so beautifully strewn in the box is a necklace you pointed out to him when youâd gone shopping together what must have been years ago now. A gorgeous silver chain lays delicately holding a dainty bejeweled star with your birthstone in the center. Of course heâd been paying attention. He always does.
âYou didnât,â itâs all you can manage as you stare at it in disbelief. To your surprise, Sukuna is smiling softly down at you, a rare sight that you want to burn into your retinas.
âYou deserve a good birthday.â
You know itâs a dig at your boyfriend, but you canât bring yourself to care. Maybe that should be a sign, but youâre too caught up in the moment as tears brim your eyes.
âThis was so expensive though, I- I- canât-â
âYou can and you will.â
You know when Sukuna demands something, he means it. This is one of those times.
Tears threatening to spill, you wrap your arms tightly around his toned middle. If he werenât a giant in comparison to you, you might have bowled him over with the force you hug him with.
Sukuna relishes in the moment, memorizing the feeling of your body in his arms, the way you bury your head into his chest, hiding your tears in his hug as they inevitably stain his white V-neck, but he doesnât care. His arms wrap tightly around you, one of the rare times he returns one of your affections.
When you part from him, using your free hand to wipe your eyes, Sukuna takes the box from you, moving to put the necklace on with ease. He moves like every action he takes is practiced as he confidently clasps the necklace around your neck.
âItâs beautiful,â you hum as you look down at it, running a delicate finger over the pendant.
The salmon-haired man hums mildly. ââCourse. You chose it.â
You examine his eyes, your expression unreadable as you contemplate Sukunaâs actions.
He may be agreeable around you, he may be willing to make compromises with you that he wonât for others, but this is new for him. This is sweet, and he knows youâre thinking such a thing too when he meets those pretty eyes staring up at him. He doesnât care anymore, though.
He wants you to be happy.
When your boyfriend confronts you about the necklace later that night, you tell him the truth. Maybe you hope heâll realize he fucked up. Maybe you hope heâll right his wrongs.
Instead, you end up in an argument as your boyfriend insists that his mistake in forgetting the date was honest but that Sukuna overstepped boundaries.
Maybe your best friend did, in truth.
And so as your boyfriend snaps when you defend your best friend and the argument takes a turn for the worse, maybe it shouldnât be that same best friend that you turn to. Maybe that will just make things worse.
But the phone only rings twice before he picks up.
He sounds tired, his voice coated in sluggish exhaustion as he mumbles a âhelloâ on the other line. You hear the rustling of sheets on the other end, a pang of guilt clawing at your throat as you know youâve woken him up.
âKuna?â The tone of your voice is foreign to him. Meek, strained. Even earlier in the night when you had confronted him about his cold disposition, your tone still held that unwavering strength and fire that he loves about you, so this wakes him up.
Leaning up on his elbow in bed, he squints at his phone.
âItâs three in the morning, y/n.â
âI know.â You pause and Sukuna waits for you to explain. He doesnât need to say anything for you to know that heâs listening. âWe got into a fight.â
Sukuna sighs, full of disdain, though not towards you. Never towards you.
âYou safe?â His voice is surprisingly soft, though you chalk it up to him being tired.
You nod, before realizing he canât see you. â... yeah.â
He hears you sniffle on the other end of the line and has to physically resist the urge to say things heâll regret about your boyfriend. âRight. âM on my way. Stay put.â
He hangs up, wasting no time in throwing on a pair of gray sweatpants and a plain black V-neck. He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, although it doesnât do him any favors and he isnât about to waste time styling it. As it stands, youâve seen him in a worse state after some particularly wild nights that had ended with one of you on the otherâs couch.
His bike roars to life outside his apartment and heâs off into the cold night air, barely grazing his skin as his leather jacket and helmet protect him from the bite. He pushes the limits of his bike and of the road as he speeds past any cars he comes across on the short drive to your house, and heâs glad he did when he spots you on your front doorstep, head in your hands in little more than pajama shorts and a tank top.
Heâs off his bike in an instant, shaking his head as he takes his helmet off in an effort to fix his hair before he kneels in front of you.
Youâre relieved at the sight of him, clearly fresh out of bed and having hurried right over. Your knight in shining armor. Or at least a shiny red helmet.
His brow furrows as he looks you over, spotting the goosebumps that litter your bare legs and arms.Â
âShit,â he mutters as he rolls his shoulders and shrugs his leather jacket off, wrapping it around you. It engulfs your figure almost entirely, draping over you like a dress. If the situation was any different he would think itâs adorable.
You look up at him between long, wet lashes, fresh tears streaking down your makeup-stained cheeks. Your eyes are red and puffy from crying and youâre sure your exhaustion and defeat are written across your face in bright bold lettering by the way he frowns.
âDid he kick you out?â
âItâs a long story,â you mutter, just barely audible.
âI got time.â
Thereâs a note of contempt that floats between his words and you know just as well as he does that heâs resisting the urge to beat down your door and knock some sense into your boyfriend.
Your mouth opens then closes enough times that Sukuna grows impatient, muscles in his jaw clenching as he grows closer and closer to busting down your door when you finally find words.
âWeâve been fighting on and off since we got home,â you admit. Sukuna raises a brow. That was four hours ago. âHe was pissed about- about-â you stammer over your words, biting your lip as you fiddle with the necklace that sits beautifully around your neck. Beautiful like you.
âMe,â Sukuna dryly finishes your sentence.
You frown and he knows heâs right. Of course. Maybe the necklace was overstepping this time, but heâd watched your shitty boyfriend step on you more times than he could count and hadnât once said a word. He respected you and your fiery demeanor entirely too much to ever want to see you upset.
Yet no matter what path he chose, it seemed you would be upset regardless.
âHe took my phone and went through everything,â you clear your throat as your voice cracks mid-sentence, staring down at the phone in your hands. The screen is cracked and Sukuna isnât sure if he wants to know whether it was shattered before today or not.
Your words set him ablaze in anger. It burns like an itch on his skin and it takes every last ounce of self control that he has to hold himself back and just listen. The contrasting cold air is nice on his skin, soothing what little fury it's able to with its brisk touch.
âDo you remember that photo we took together on Halloween?â
Sukuna nods slowly. He knows exactly where this is going. It was well over a year ago, before youâd started dating your boyfriend, when you had convinced Sukuna to dress as a king and you his queen. Heâd had a surprising amount of fun with it and with enough alcohol flowing through his veins, his words had grown more frivolous. Heâd spent all night calling you his queen or his princess, pretty much until the moment heâd thrown up, the words ejecting from his dialect along with the alcohol. Regardless, the proof was in the texts between you from that night.
At some point in the night, youâd gotten a photo taken clinging to his shoulders, a calm smile on Sukunaâs lips as heâd carried you with ease. It made him smirk the following morning recalling the memory, glad it hadnât disappeared with the words or alcohol.
Regardless, heâd missed his chance to shoot his shot, growing too accustomed to having you around to consider you didnât see his change in attitude around you as anything more than friendly, so heâd retreated to his usual detached self.
Clearly that detachment wasnât enough for your boyfriend as you flip him your phone screen. So it is newly broken.
God give Sukuna the strength to sit still.
âAnd youâre outside now, why?â
âI felt sick, I needed air.â You shrug, fiddling with your phone in your lap. âHe got mad that I walked away and we ended up fighting again, then he slammed the door in my face.â
âHe kicked you out,â Sukuna states matter of factly, venom dripping from each and every word.
âHe locked me out,â you shrug again, but Sukuna doesnât care for the details. You have no keys, not to your bike or your house, no jacket, youâre in shorts and a tank top⊠jesus.
âWhat a fucking prick.â With that, heâs on his feet and you know heâs about to slam his fist on your door. Or through it. Sukuna may be kind with you but the bad boy persona he sports isnât a persona at all- Sukuna would not hesitate to knock your boyfriend clean out. Heâd been to jail before, one more time wasnât a big deal if it meant keeping you safe.
âKuna.â He pauses at the plain tone you say his name in. Itâs not a warning, itâs not scolding. He doesnât know what to make of it. âNot now.â
He huffs and clicks his tongue. His jaw clenches as his shrunken, furious pupils stare down at you, but when he notices your legs are shaking from the cold, he relents.
âFine.â The word is grumbled as his hands reach for your waist and lift you to your feet with little more than a hum when youâre standing at your full height, barely reaching his broad shoulders. He leaves a hand on the small of your back, setting his helmet over your head and zipping his jacket up over your small frame in an effort to keep you safe when you climb onto the back of his bike.
Sukuna glances back at you as you cling to his toned abdomen, his bike pulling away quickly. Riding with Sukuna is familiar. Though you normally follow him, his quick riding pace and not-entirely-legal maneuvers donât scare you the way they once did, because everything Sukuna does feels practiced, rehearsed.
Pulling into his apartment building, he pulls the bike into a parking spot and lets you hand him the helmet as you follow him up to his apartment.
Itâs a bit of a mess, dishes sit in the sink, empty bottles and cans littering the counter and a garbage bag sits at the door, but it doesnât matter because youâre warm and youâre safe and itâs not like heâd let you take the couch anyway given the current situation.
Sukuna moves to at least tidy the couch, fully expecting you to make yourself at home like you always do, but when he turns to see youâre staring at the ground in the entrance, his jacket wrapped around you like a blanket, he frowns. Thatâs not like you.
In fact, in all the years you two have known one another, Sukunaâs never seen you so spaced out.
âDid he hurt you?â
Itâs his best guess as to why youâre so out of it, but when you shake your head, heâs simply at a loss.
Sukuna doesnât do comfort. Heâll watch your favorite movies with you and make you food, but he doesnât do words of comfort. Heâs a man of action, and although the most beautiful woman heâs ever laid eyes on is standing in his apartment, he doesnât dare to act on the stray thoughts running through his mind, even though he knows you deserve to be treated right.
Coming to stand in front of you, he sighs.
âWhaddya want me to do?â
Anyone else would assume heâs irritated with your presence, but you know itâs a genuine question. Your friend doesnât know what you need and heâs trying his best to figure it out. Heâs trying to help.
âCan I have a blanket?â You ask him, shoulders hunched in exhaustion.
Thereâs silence in the apartment as Sukuna moves to his bedroom to grab a blanket.
âThe red one please!â You call after him as though that isnât the one heâs already grabbing. He knows your favorite.
Returning to you, he drops the red blanket in your arms, his heart twisting as you pull his jacket off and hand it to him in exchange.
âCan I, um, come in?â
Sukuna raises an eyebrow questioningly, subconsciously fiddling with the tongue piercing in his mouth. Not once have you ever asked him to come in. You always, always, made yourself at home, even though it was much to his dismay the first few times youâd let yourself into his apartment in spite of his grumbles and irritated huffs.
Sukunaâs reaction is all the permission you need as you realize he must find the whole situation strange, but everything feels foreign to you. Itâs not like you havenât stayed at Sukunaâs before, itâs not like the couch isnât your second bed, itâs that you feel like youâre betraying your boyfriend by being here.
Not that Sukuna would do anything anyway, you know he doesnât see you in such a way. You may be his closest friend but heâs never once shown any sort of other interest towards you. Even if he did see you that way, heâs just not that kind of person.
Still, you gingerly sit at the edge of the couch, pulling your knees to your chest and wrapping yourself in the massive blanket. Sukuna moves to sit beside you, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. He looks at you expectantly, waiting to see what you want to do, if you want to talk.
But you donât answer, and Sukuna is at a loss of what to do. A contemplative silence settles over you as he leans his head back against the couch, eyeing you and hoping youâll say something.
âCan I ask you something, Ryo?â
The use of the nickname he lets only you call him quirks his brow as he realizes youâre serious.
âDo you think Iâm pretty?â
Thatâs⊠not what the gruff man was expecting to hear.
His jaw tightens as his piercing eyes stare down at you. He rubs a hand over his face as he tries to make sense of the question, too tired to be thinking this deeply over something. He stares at you pensively as though the world rests on this one response.
âYeah. Youâre pretty.â
Your eyes fall to your knees and the way Sukunaâs head tilts, youâre sure he thinks heâs made a mistake.
âThanks, Kuna.â
âThe fuck did that prick say to you that has ya askinâ?â
You hesitate, avoiding his discerning eyes as Sukunaâs chest surges with anger. Your best friendâs fist clenches in his lap as he leans forward, examining your expression.
âWhat the fuck did he say?â Sukunaâs voice is monstrous, but you could never fear his anger knowing heâs never once directed it your way. You know heâs irritated you havenât answered yet, but even between his irritation and the gruff tone he uses, he could never scare you.
âHe told me I couldnât do better than him.â
âAnd?â Sukuna pushes demandingly, his fingers clasping the back of his couch so hard you wonder if he has the strength to crush it.
âThat heâs way out of my league and should have chosenâŠâ you trail off, not oblivious to the way Sukuna quirks a brow for you to continue. When you meekly whisper your friendâs name, Sukunaâs seething.
Fury practically drifts from his body like smoke and to your surprise you do hear the couch creak beneath his hand.
Youâve only ever seen Sukuna this angry once before.
Sukunaâs closest friend aside from you, Uraume, often accompanied you on your trips to the bar with Sukuna and would join in on your rides with their own bike. The two of them were two peas in a pod, similar in all the ways you werenât, but if anything it made you closer to Uraume for having an understanding of Sukuna.
For that exact reason, youâd spotted Uraumeâs discomfort a mile away when someone began hitting on them. Uraume could handle themself, so you didnât think much of it until the manâs hand was tightly gripping Uraumeâs arm.
Alarmed, you pointed out Uraumeâs discomfort to your drunk best friend and he didnât hesitate to clock the man hitting on them.
So when Sukuna is on his feet with a familiar rage brewing and doesnât seem to know what to do with himself, you know you have to calm him down before youâre bailing him out of jail again. Itâs not something you want to make a habit of.
âKuna, itâs okay.â
âNo!â He hisses, swinging his hand through the air as he stares at the door.
âPlease, Iâll be okay, I promise,â you try to insist, wrapping your arms around yourself.
âItâs not okay for him to say shit like that to you,â he growls, glowering from where he stands over you, eyes on the door. He wants to leave, you know he does.
âItâs not, I know, but itâs not your problem.â
âNot my- What the fuck donât you get?â
Your eyes widen at Sukunaâs question. His voice is frigid as ever, but for once you feel the shards of ice pricking your skin.
âWhat?â Your dumbfounded and hurt question hangs in the air momentarily as you try to process this outburst.
Sukunaâs scarred eye twitches as he runs his tongue over his teeth. He huffs out a breath as he sees your expression, forcing himself to calm down so as not to make this about him. He doesnât want to say something he regrets, and he certainly doesnât want that icy tone to be directed at you, ever again.
âHe doesnât fucking deserve you.â
Your shoulders fall at his words, his chest heaving as he stares at you with an unidentifiable emotion.
âWhereâs this coming from?â Your brow knits tightly over the bridge of your nose. As you subconsciously chew on your lower lip, Sukuna has to do everything in his power not to stare at your lips.
âLook, I just care, alright? Or somethinâ.â
You barely know how to react to your best friendâs admission of care for you. Not once has he ever shown an ounce of his care through words. Sure, heâs shown it in other ways, but this is a first for him.
His gaze is fixed on the kitchen, so he barely notices when you stand up and set your hand on his arm, your thumb comfortingly rubbing his arm.
âI appreciate it, Kuna.â You tell him with a tired smile, doing your best to reassure him that youâre okay in spite of the situation. âJust⊠can we please just watch a movie or something?â Youâre too tired, too worn out to handle everything going on right now and youâre afraid the buildup of emotions in your chest will overflow if you donât distract yourself soon.
Sukunaâs focus fixes on your hand on his arm, the way it seems to burn into him in a way heâd long grown painfully familiar with. It wasnât uncommon for you to grab his arm and drag him somewhere, or hug him each time you said hello. Hell, the Halloween youâd both gotten entirely too drunk, youâd been on Sukunaâs back half of the night giggling and telling him, your King, where to take you.
Yet this time, the burn hurts. It hurts him to see you here with dried tears on your cheeks. It angers him to know your boyfriend had gotten away with treating you in such a way for so long.
He lets out a breath through his nose and takes a seat on the couch again at your insistence, watching as you drape the big blanket over the both of you. And god is it cute when you do, making sure heâs completely covered from the waist down like youâre tucking him in.
When you lean back against the arm of the couch, slinking comfortably back into the cushions and grab the remote, Sukuna feels his body begin to relax too, allowing himself to focus on your wellbeing here and now rather than the fact that he wants to pummel your boyfriend.
Heâs not shocked when you flip through options and eventually settle on a Studio Ghibli movie he knows youâve seen a million times because heâs seen it one too many times.
You know he doesnât mind although he isnât the biggest fan of the movie. Either way, itâs nearly five in the morning and you both know youâll be asleep before you know it.
â
The next morning as cool air pours through a window and birdsong decorates each blow of the breeze, the pounding of your head is a rude awakening. Itâs too early for you to be up given that you were awake so late, but your phone seems to think otherwise.
Your eyes flicker open blearily, and you lean up in bed with a yawn, realizing suddenly that youâre in Sukunaâs room and heâs nowhere to be found. Sitting up fully, you bring a hand up to your temple, pressing on it in an effort to ease the pain as you search for your phone, finding it eventually on the floor a small distance away.
Hopping down from the tall mattress, you yawn as you stare at the screen, your heart clenching at the sight of the contact photo on-screen as your phone rings. Your boyfriend has his arms wrapped around your middle, his chin resting on your shoulder as you both grin. With the way your screen is now shattered, it looks almost like a scene from a movie in the way itâs practically screaming a warning at you.
Youâd spent far too much time alone with your thoughts the previous night. Hell, even with Sukunaâs comfort, his disdain for your boyfriend had been a bit of a wakeup call. Still, your thumb hovers over the green button.
âHello?â Your voice is broken as you answer the phone.
âThank god baby, I was so worried about you. Iâm so sorry, I shouldnât have left you outside last night, I wasnât thinking clearly.â
You take a couple of steps forward, walking towards the living room as your eyes lock onto the tall man draped over the couch, his limbs entirely too long for the cushions. He must have carried you to his bed at some point and taken the couch.
Your stomach twists as you realize your boyfriendâs words are all lost on you, you didnât hear a single one. Youâre not sure when you tuned him out, or how long youâve been staring at Sukuna when your boyfriendâs words pull you from your thoughts.
âY/n? Did you hear me?â
âSorry, Iâm a bit out of it. What did you say?â
He sighs in frustration on the other side of the line and you wince as his tone gains a familiar edge. âWhere are you? Iâm coming to get you so we can talk.â
âI- um-â you pause, brow furrowing as you stare at your best friend, who begins to shuffle from his uncomfortable position on the couch as your soft voice awakens him from slumber.
âY/n?â Your boyfriendâs voice cuts through the haze again, but youâre at a loss for words as Sukuna lifts his head, irritation written across his face at being awake, but when he flips over on the couch and spots you, his demeanor softens.
âYeah. Youâre pretty.â
Sukunaâs words ring in your head over and over and you bite your lip. He pushes himself up on the couch, moving to stand a small distance in front of you in three long strides.
Sukuna may not have a way with words, but you never had a hard time telling what he was thinking just by the way he looks at you. As he stares down at you with a tilt of his head, you know exactly whatâs going through his mind.
Like that, it all clicks. Of course he hated your boyfriend. The signs were always there, you just didnât pay them any mind. The reason he was colder than usual towards your boyfriend is as obvious as the sun in the sky.
Sukuna thinks youâre pretty. He wasnât trying to comfort you when he said that. Thatâs not who Sukuna is. That may as well be an admission that he would move mountains for you.
âY/n, baby? Whatâs going on? I want you home, now.â
Your chest twists at his tone and as your eyes meet Sukunaâs, you wonder if your phone is loud enough for him to hear when his lip twitches.
You clear your throat, your eyes never once leaving Sukunaâs from where he stands with tousled hair, wrinkled sweatpants and a bare chest. Itâs not unfamiliar to you, you know Sukuna is beyond hot. You know Sukuna could take anyone he wants home and you know he has a streak of doing so, but now that you think about it, itâs been a long time since youâve seen Sukuna with anyone, and you know why now.
âYou left me outside all night in the cold.â Your voice is meek, still mindlessly chewing on your lip as you stare at the tattooed manâs eyes, now lit ablaze with a fire that hadnât been there earlier. âYou know what- I should go.â
âWhat? Baby, come on we need to talk-â
âI have nothing to talk to you about. Weâre-â You pause, your stomach stirring uncomfortably as all of your emotions seem to collide and collapse within you. You feel the tears that threaten to spill, your composure that threatens to break as you ball your hand into a fist at your side.
Sukunaâs hand twitches beside him as he does everything in his power not to lean down and kiss you then and there. He wants you. He wants all of you. He wants to show your boyfriend everything heâs about to lose.
He wants to make you his. He wants you to make him yours.
Yet, all he can reasonably do is set a hand on your upper arm. He canât be selfish. Not when youâve come to him in your time of need.
âWeâre done.â
âNonono, we are not done, hold on-â
âIâll come grab my bike and my things soon-â
â-letâs talk about this, I just made a mistake, okay-â
â-goodbye.â
âDonât hang up, baby, hold on, fuck-â
Your hand falls to your side as you stare up at the taller man.
He doesnât say a word as a tear runs down your cheek, shortly followed by a sob wracking your body. Sukunaâs hand moves from your arm to the back of your head as he pulls you into his chest, holding you there as you cry against his bare skin, tears wetting his toned pecs.
Itâs not his ideal morning, but at least he can shamelessly say now that he wants to rearrange your boyfriendâs face with his fist.
He wonât say it anyway, though. He knows better.
Your best friend doesnât say anything but his actions speak volumes as he holds you to him protectively, unmoving as he envelops you into his form. He exhales deeply as he holds you tightly to his body, his fingers gripping you tightly. Itâs reassuring to know you have him in your time of need and eventually your tears begin to subside.
You blink your wet lashes against his skin as your warm breath fans his chest and abdomen. He shoots you a disgruntled look as your lashes tickle his skin and he jolts at the feeling.
âDonât be a brat,â he warns through gritted teeth, but it holds no malice.
You chuckle through tears. âSorry, Ryo.â
He rolls his shoulders and holds you again, letting your face fall against his chest once more. This time, youâre careful to keep your eyes closed to avoid tickling him.
Heâs surprisingly patient with you as he lets you stand there, only moving to take and silence your phone when he grows frustrated with the vibration.
When you finally settle, he leads you back to the couch, tossing his shirt and the blanket off the couch and onto the floor.
âDid you move me to the bed?â
He hums affirmatively, his chest warming as you smile at him. âThanks, I could have taken the couch though. It looked a bit too small for y-â
âNo.â
You breathe out through your nose in a half-hearted laugh. Thereâs never any use arguing with him when heâs made up his mind, so you give it up. Oh well.
âCan I stay here for a bit?â
You figure Sukuna will huff and puff and make a show out of it but he nods easily.
âThanks,â you sigh, sinking back into the couch.
You stare at the ceiling. What a morning. Youâve barely been awake for ten minutes and your heart is pounding in your chest just from sitting beside your best friend, someone youâve known for years.
Someone youâd long pushed any attraction for down into the depths of your heart in an effort to save yourself the heartbreak of being with someone who seemed to have no interest in you. Hell, youâd once thought he was emotionally unavailable, and yetâŠ?
You canât help but stare.
Heâs exhausted, youâre not sure how much longer heâll be able to stay awake as his head bobs down onto the back of the couch, mouth slightly ajar as sleep settles over his form. You smile softly at the sight, swallowing at the yearning feeling of wanting to settle into his warmth, though you know you shouldnât.
Youâre a mess. Youâve heard your boyfriend- ex- say things you arenât ready to admit to yourself that leave fresh stinging wounds. Hell, thatâs an entire can of worms you donât want to touch right now. Your belongings, your bike, your entire life is all trapped in his house, in the house of someone that-
God why had you let him step all over you like that? It leaves you frowning as your heart twists and clenches uncomfortably. You loved him. Deep down, you know itâs the reason. You convinced yourself he loved you too.
You curse yourself for overlooking your feelings for Sukuna, for pushing them down. Heâd always cared deeply for you, the signs had always been there, yet you never paid them any mind.
Chewing on your lower lip again, you get to your feet and grab the blanket off the floor, draping it over him. Your thumb brushes over the faded black lines that race over his shoulders and down his collar bones as you tuck the blanket over his shoulders.
He hums subconsciously, a serene smile pulling at his lips.
You smile back, turning to get some rest yourself. When Sukuna kicks his foot out suddenly and damn-near trips you, you let out a surprised yelp, spinning around to confront him.
âWhat the hell, Kuna?â You harshly snarl at him.
His lidded eyes just barely open, your reaction earning a smirk from him. Thereâs his feisty best friend.
âCâmere, itâs cold.â
Itâs not cold, and Ryomen Sukuna is not sly, but your stomach flutters and your heart jumps to your throat anyway. Your shoulders fall to your sides in surprise, unable to be frustrated with him.
He flips the blanket up, his arm extended over the back of the couch. His expression is mild as usual but when you take him up on his offer and plop down next to him, his racing heart tells you everything you need to know.
Pulling your knees up onto the couch, you let him pull you against is chest, your head resting on his broad shoulder as he barely lasts a minute before the rhythm of his breathing steadies and his head falls back on the couch again.
Youâre not long for the world of the waking either as you succumb to the temptation of sleep on his warm chest.
When your eyes flicker open again, your head has fallen into Sukunaâs lap and heâs splayed in what looks like an uncomfortable position with his arm and leg hanging off the couch. His head is still leaned back against the back of the couch with his mouth hanging open as soft snores part his lips.
Itâs not the first time youâve seen him asleep. Youâve spent many hungover mornings at his apartment and vice versa but now in the gentle morning light with the distant sound of birdsong as the only noise disturbing his snores, he looks peaceful.
You shuffle on his lap in an effort to get a better look at his serene expression, but his strained groan suggests that you may have awoken him earlier than he would have liked.
âCan ya cut that out?â He grumbles without opening his eyes as he reaches down and adjusts your head to lay more on his abdomen.
The irritation in his voice doesnât hold a candle to the sincerity in which his arm now cradles you against him and you giggle, to which he opens an eye to observe you.
âSorry,â you hum. He exhales as he closes his eyes again, sliding further down on the couch.
You lay in bliss on his toned and horribly attractive bare chest for what only feels like a few minutes before his eyes peel open and heâs drinking in the sight of you, his gorgeous best friend, smiling at him from his chest.
And oh my god, Ryomen Sukuna is blushing.
Would you really be his best friend if you didnât point it out?
âKuna?â
âHm?â
âYou a lil flustered?â
Sukunaâs brow furrows deeply. âI am not.â
âYouâre blushing.â
âItâs warm in here, youâre laying on top of me and we have a blanket,â he refutes with an edge to his voice that tells you that youâre poking a nerve.
You also know him well enough to know itâs faux anger, playful if anything.
âFunny, I was told it was cold a couple of hours ago.â
His lip curls, chest rising and falling beneath you as he huffs. âYou push my buttons.â You can see from the way a muscle in his jaw works that heâs fiddling with his tongue piercing.
âI could push more than just your buttons,â your voice drips with confidence, lowering an octave at the implication. You pull a hand out from beneath your chin, running a dainty finger across the length of his collar bone.
Sukunaâs pupils dilate in an instant, his attention drawn to your finger. He swallows hard, the corners of his lips pulling up into a smirk. All signs of his contempt forgotten, warmth swirls in those gorgeous eyes of his, but the smirk on his lips is devilish.
âCareful, princess,â he warns in a gruff voice that has you clenching your thighs together with wide eyes. Sukunaâs brow twitches as he feels your legs shuffle, entirely too happy with himself at getting such a reaction from you all from two words. He chuckles, his chest rumbling beneath you as you hide your face in his chest, heat radiating from your cheeks.
Tension is ripe in the air between you both when you finally meet Sukunaâs intense gaze and it makes a question pop into your mind.
âHow long?â The words are blurted out and Sukuna shifts beneath you to get a better view.
âWhat are you on about?â
âHow long have you liked me?â
Sukunaâs scoff hits the air before he can even register heâs made the noise. âGo get ready or whatever so we can pick up your shit.â His brow is pulled into a tight scowl as he all but shoves you to the ground.
You barely manage to catch yourself before falling on your ass, rolling your eyes as you steady yourself.
âKuuuna!â You coo with a grin, but before you have a chance to tease him any further, Sukuna lunges at you. âWait, wait-â
You shriek in protest as he barrels into your legs, effortlessly lifting you over his shoulder. He pays no mind to any of your protests, nor your kicking and squirming against him as he dumps you with little grace on his bed.
âWhat-â
âStop complaininâ and go change or shower or whatever yâ gotta do. I want your bike back.â
Sitting up as you attempt to reorient yourself, you blink a couple of times and manage to call his name out just before heâs turning away.
âI donât have anything to wear,â you tell him, staring down at your pajamas.
âYouâve been leaving shit here for years, find something in my closet.â
âHave I?â You wonder aloud, suddenly realizing your hungover mornings passed in his apartment are likely the culprit for many missing outfits. âWait, why do you want my bike back?â You realize suddenly, but heâs already shutting the door to his room and leaving you in tranquility.
Standing in the silence broken only by distant birdsong and the muffled sounds of traffic, you find your gaze lingering on the door where he once stood.
How long? You wonder to yourself. How many signs, how many signals had you missed or brushed off all these years under the assumption that your grumpy best friend was just that- your best friend?
You set a hand over your fast-beating heart, trying to steady the pace itâs beating at as emotions run rampant through you. Between the shock of realization of Sukunaâs feelings and the shitty night youâd had- your birthday, by the way- you canât help the shaky exhale that parts your lips.
Itâs a lot to take in.
You take your time showering, enjoying the way the warm water rinses away all signs of the prior night. Itâs a warm respite from the days that are beginning to grow frosty as winter approaches. Most importantly, the white noise of the water falling drowns out the steady stream of jumbled thoughts flowing like a river through your mind.
Perusing Sukunaâs closet, you do manage to find more of your clothes than you had expected.
âMy nice leggings were here the whole time?â You mutter to yourself as you pull them from a pile of pants. Along with them, you manage to find a pair of jeans, more shirts than youâd care to admit, an old jacket and a hoodie.
Pulling on a form-fitting black low-cut shirt and a red leather jacket, you poke your head out of the bedroom door.
âWhyâd you never give any of this back?â
Sukunaâs leaning out the window with a cigarette held between two fingers. He blows a puff of smoke out into the cool fall air before turning to you. Heâs still in his sweatpants but has pulled his shirt on.
âI used to bring âem back to your place when I visited but they always ended up back on my couch,â he shrugs simply. âWasnât worth the time.â
âI didnât know it was this much clothing.â
âYour memoryâs shit.â
âOuch,â you hold a hand to your heart, feigning being hurt.
He stubs out the cigarette, waving the smoke out the window with his arm before shutting it. âDone in there?â
You nod and exchange places with Sukuna as he showers. He takes less than a quarter of the time you did and is out with the most effortlessly cool style that you canât help but be jealous of him.
His typical black leather jacket hangs off his shoulders with a vintage Harley Davidson shirt beneath. He sports ripped jeans on his lower half and blackout shades sit atop his spiked pink hair.
âSee something you like?â
You barely manage to utter out a pathetic âuhâ before Sukunaâs chuckling at you as he catches you eyeing him from your place on the couch. He makes his way around the couch, patting your shoulder encouragingly.
âLetâs go.â
Shaking your head to clear your mind, you get to your feet and follow Sukuna to the door, stopping him before he can leave.
âHey. Can you stay on the sidewalk while I talk to him?â
The tall man pauses at your serious tone, examining your expression. âWhy?â
You know why heâs asking.
âIâm serious, Ryo. I donât want you two fighting.â
âHe treated you like shit, y/n.â
âI- I know.â
His jaw clenches. âThe piece of shit deserves-â
âI know, okay? Please, this is what Iâm trying to prevent. Besides, if you get into trouble, Iâll leave your ass in jail this time.â
His head falls back, eyes closed as he comes to terms with just how serious you are. He rolls his shoulders backwards once before nodding. âWhatever, fine.â His tone drips with exasperation and anger and you can only hope at this point that he means what he says.
âThank you,â you sigh in relief, falling into place beside him as he leads the way down to his bike.
Though you rode behind him less than twelve hours ago, somehow it feels different today as he places his helmet on you and pulls you tight to his broad form. His feisty little backpack, so cute in his helmet. Heâs not oblivious to the way your hands roam his abs either as a smirk pulls at his features. Itâs a sweet momentary distraction from his searing anger.
It takes every ounce of self control that Sukuna has to stay at his bike as he watches you ring the doorbell of your own house. Thank god for the cold air keeping his anger from simmering through his skin. Heâs sure heâd be a pile of molten anger otherwise.
You shuffle uncomfortably at the doorstep, knowing entirely too well that this is going to go poorly. You were practically asking for a fight by showing up with Sukuna but what better option do you have? Your wallet and keys are still sitting soundly on the nightstand of the bed youâd spent the last several months sleeping in. At least, thatâs where they should be.
It takes a moment before the door creaks open, your exâs surprised wide eyes staring back at you.
âShit, thank god youâre home-â
You barely manage to duck from his grasp as he attempts to pull you into his embrace. Your heart pounds hard in your chest as you face your ex, whose face contorts to one of pain when you duck away from him.
âI told you-â You mentally curse yourself as your voice breaks. Closing your eyes, you readjust and face your ex with confidence. âWeâre done.â
âWe need to talk,â he insists, his voice sickeningly sweet, and it almost makes you want to gag the way he swings between sweet nothings and manipulative cords that twist your heart.
âWe talked for four hours last night. Thereâs nothing left to talk about!â You swing a hand through the air for emphasis as your voice rises, staring at him in disbelief. âJust let me in, I need my keys and-â
His arm swings out to block the door, knuckles white as he grips the frame of the door. His brow curls upwards in⊠frustration? Irritation? Anger? Pain? Youâre not sure. âThis is your home. You belong with me.â
You swallow the bile in your throat like a stone straight to the pit of your stomach. Once words like that would have made you swoon, now you feel as though youâre a deer in the headlights staring at a man you donât recognize. A man who holds the barrel of a metaphorical gun.
You spare a glance behind you for reassurance, spotting Sukuna sitting at his bike. If itâs possible for a man to have smoke spewing from his ears, Sukuna is the spitting image of such a thing. His face is red with anger, hands clenched at either side of his body as he tries desperately to hold himself back.
He still remembers the way you excitedly told him about your new boyfriend. About how sweet he was, how kind he was. Although it pained him to know it was someone else making you happy, he was just glad you were happy. But when you had invited him to meet your boyfriend, Sukuna couldnât help but feel as though the man didnât match your description.
Heâd tried to convince himself he was just being jealous, but the more time he spent around you, the more he noticed.
The last straw for Sukuna was when you had invited him, your boyfriend, and some of your closest friends along to see the latest installment in the Predator franchise. Youâd stopped for dinner first and your boyfriend had insisted on ordering for you.
Sukuna hadnât thought much of it at the time, but he had found it strange when a salad had been set in front of you. Not once had Sukuna ever seen you order a salad. Well, he had, but as a side. Never as the entire meal.
Heâd tried to brush it off but when youâd decided on popcorn at the movie and your boyfriend had insisted you didnât need it, Sukuna made a point of ordering a large one and sharing it with you.
Now as you look back at him uncertainly, every bone in Sukunaâs body screams to move. Yet his brain tells him to listen to you. He takes a breath in an effort to stay calm, deciding to respect your wishes.
âYou brought him here?â Your ex pales as he follows your line of sight.
That seems to give you the confidence to face him again as anger sears through your blood. âYou left me outside alone! He came to get me!â You search his face for any sign of remorse. When you donât find it, tears prick at your eyes. Over a year spent together and he canât even show you an ounce of kindness.
âI told you baby, it was a mistake!â
âNo- No. No, a mistake is forgetting to turn off the sink, not leaving me outside in the cold with nothing but a broken phone.â Your voice drips with venom as the cold of the previous night envelops you in its memory, a reminder that this is for the best.
âYour phone isnât broken, get over it y/n.â You glance down at his fist as it balls at his side.
âYou shattered it.â You deadpan.
âCan we forget about the phone? For fuckâs sake.â He lifts his fist in the air to bring it up to his forehead as he attempts to calm himself down. âLook-â he shoots Sukuna a glance before smiling, his voice growing honeyed. âWeâll figure things out, okay? Why donât you come in?â
You hesitate. You see the red flags as clear as day now that the fog has lifted, and you know Sukuna is grateful when you pleadingly look at him. His signal to come beat the shit out of your ex. Well, no, it isnât. But he wishes it was.
Regardless, heâs up the front lawn to the door of the small house in an instant, standing behind you with all the self-control he can physically muster.
âWeâre having a private conversation, would you mind-â
âWhatever you can say in front of me, you can say in front of him.â You insist, backing into Sukuna as your ex reaches for your arm. Youâre thankful in this moment that your closest friend is nearly seven feet and built like a brick wall as it could never really matter who heâs up against, heâll always be the scariest one in the room.
Your exâs mouth curls into a snarl, eyeing Sukunaâs hands that rest easily on your upper arms.
âYouâve gotta be-â he grumbles to himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his hand that isnât blocking you from entering the house. âCome on baby, you know you belong with me and not-â he cuts himself off as he shoots Sukuna an icy glance.
You shift uncomfortably at the tone he uses as he says that you belong with him, growing uneasy the longer youâre in his presence. Steeling your resolve, you straighten yourself and muster as much confidence as you can.
âThis isnât about Sukuna. You left me outside in the cold last night and I called my best friend to get me,â you tell him without missing a beat. Sukuna is practically grinning behind you as your exâs jaw clenches but you donât see the exchange between the two men. âOh, and I donât belong with or to anyone.â
Sukuna squeezes your arm in reassurance.
âI need my keys and wallet. Iâm taking my bike and some clothes.â
Your ex mulls over your words before relenting finally, just as youâre beginning to think youâll be without belongings. âFine, but he stays outside.â
You glance up at Sukuna, whose expression is unreadable. âFine,â you agree, slipping from Sukunaâs grasp and into the house. Your ex goes to close the door in Sukunaâs face, but a steady hand stops him just as you dash out of sight into your old bedroom.
âLet go of the door, man.â
âLeave the door open, man,â Sukuna warns mockingly in a sneer.
âSheâs my-â
âSheâs not. Sheâs not yours. She doesnât belong to you.â
âGo fuck yourself, Sukuna.â He rolls his eyes, pressing more of his weight against the door, but itâs nothing compared to the bulk Sukuna packs.
âConsider yourself lucky Iâm not rearranging your face right now,â his deep eyes blaze as he leans closer to your ex, his words dangerously low. If ever Sukuna is thankful that he knows heâs a scary person, itâs right now as your ex flinches back and relents, leaving the door open and leaving Sukuna at the door.
Your ex disappears from Sukunaâs sight and he stands up straight, turning to the side as he stares at your bike. He knows you can handle yourself, but he still doesnât love the prospect of you being alone with your ex for any period of time.
Sukuna especially hates how long it takes. Heâs not sure how much you need to pack and he canât make out whatever youâre talking about with your ex but each passing moment he grows less patient and less willing to wait outside.
Just as heâs thinking of stepping inside, he sees your tiny figure with a backpack and a suitcase, keys dangling from your fingers and your wallet held firmly in your hand. The relief on your face when you lock eyes with Sukuna is somewhat heartwarming, but what isnât is the way your ex tries to grab your wrist as you make your way to the door.
You pull against him but his grip fastens.
Sukuna sees red. He sees red and he doesnât think twice about stepping into what was once your house.
âDonât touch her.â
Your eyes widen at the sight of Sukuna making his way towards you with gritted teeth. âNo, no, no! Sukuna! Itâs fine, I can handle this!â Your hand with your wallet and keys flies up as you maneuver yourself between him and your ex.
Your exâs hand doesnât loosen even when your arm physically blocks Sukuna from laying a beating on him.
You take a breath, looking between the two men. âIâm leaving. Please let go,â you say softly, so calmly it almost breaks Sukunaâs heart that your exâs actions seem so normal to you.
âWe arenât done talking-â
âWe are. Iâll be back for the rest of my things later.â You tug your wrist again, sending a pleading look to your ex, but his grip only tightens. âPlease let go.â
âY/n, please. Please, we can work this out.â
âLet go,â you tell him firmly, ignoring his words.
âPlease-â
âI donât know if youâre incapable of listening or if you just want your head bashed in, but Iâd listen to her.â Sukunaâs voice is a warning, dripping with malevolence youâve never heard from him before. His chest is pressed hard against your free hand and you arenât sure you can hold him back much longer.
âRyo,â you plead, looking between the two men as you try to pull your wrist again. Your exâs hand twitches at Sukunaâs words before loosening and falling to his side. You breathe out a sigh of relief, glancing down at the bruising markings his fingers left behind.
âSo heâs Ryo now, huh?â
You glare pointedly at your ex, knowing that one wrong word will have him with his face caved in.
Sukunaâs intense stare never once leaves your ex, but he does allow you to hand him your suitcase and gently tug his forearm to follow you out the door.
Your ex watches from the door as Sukuna follows you to your bike. His intent gaze has your hair standing on end but you choose to ignore the feeling in favor of hopping on your bike.
The sound of your bike roaring to life puts both you and Sukuna at ease and you ride down the driveway, stopping next to his bike. He jogs after you with your suitcase still in-hand.
Sukuna is quiet, which isnât unusual for him but you can practically feel the anger coming off of him in droves like smoke. Kicking your bikeâs stand out, you hop off and flip his Ducatiâs storage compartment open, pulling out a couple of straps to secure your suitcase to the back of your bike.
âReady?â
You pull your friendâs attention from your ex finally as your hand comes to rest on his bicep. His eyes travel from your face to your arm that rests on him, where he can see the way your wrist is reddened and sure to bruise.
Realizing the sight of your reddened arm has his jaw clenching with anger, you move it behind your back and out of sight.
âKuna, please.â
His intense gaze examines yours as the breeze faintly ruffles his spiked hair. Heâs completely still apart from the muscle working in his jaw as he thinks over his options at this moment, but his chest heaves as he sighs in exasperation and gives in.
âWhatever,â he growls, shooting a poisonous look back at the door that your ex hasnât moved from. Sukuna haughtily pulls his helmet on over his head, flipping his visor down before getting on his bike and accelerating quickly.
Based on the way Sukuna weaves through traffic and carelessly speeds through lights, you know heâs furious. You pull your bike into the parking spot next to him a couple of minutes after he pulls in, finding him pacing in the parking garage.
Shutting off your bike and pulling off your helmet, you approach him with angled brows, trying to reassure him. âThanks for coming with me, I appreciate it.â Heâs blinded by rage and youâre not even sure if he hears you. âKuna, Iâm okay,â you insist, reaching out to put a hand on his arm but he still brushes past you.
Sighing, you unload your suitcase from the back of your bike and return the bungee cables to the storage compartment of the Ducati as you let Sukuna blow off some steam.
Once everything is ready to go up to Sukunaâs apartment, you turn your attention back to him.
âCan we go up to your place?â
âHe hurt you,â Sukuna hisses with pupils the size of pinpricks. It would be intimidating if you didnât know that anger was directed elsewhere.
âItâs nothing really, it doesnât hurt.â
âFucking asshole, I should have-â
âNope, weâre not going into that. I donât want to know what you think you should have done.â
You grab your suitcase and begin rolling it through the parkade to the elevator, relieved when you hear a frustrated grunt behind you and a pair of keys clinking. The ride up to his apartment is silent, shrouded in anger.
Really, you should be the angry one but if anything, you're more relieved. Relieved that you have someone like Sukuna to stay with, someone whoâs so willing to come get you at three in the morning when you need him most.
Sukuna swings the door to his apartment open, slamming against the doorstop loudly before creaking shut. His hand flies to his pocket as he trudges across the apartment, tossing his leather jacket on the couch and leaning out the window as he lights a cigarette.
A puff of smoke leaves his mouth as he swings his head back with closed eyes.
Shaking your head, you decide not to give him a hard time for his bad habit and give him space as you busy yourself with setting the couch up nicely for yourself to sleep on given that you were now homeless, among other things.
Sukuna takes his time at the window, stubbing out his cigarette when itâs barely an inch long and finally approaching you from where you sit on the floor looking through your bag, taking inventory of what you have and what youâll need to pick up eventually.
Your pretty face smiles up at him when his shadow blocks your view and he finds himself relaxing more from the sight of you than he had from the nicotine.
âAre you okay?â You tilt your head, noting that he seems more calm now and he nods.
âShould be askinâ you that.â
âIâm okay. I mean it,â you insist.
His eyes flicker down to your wrist again but he knows better than to doubt you and he knows you can handle the pain. Sitting down on the couch behind you, he leans back and watches you quietly.
âI got the things that were most important, but hopefully I can go back and grab everything else eventually,â you note, more to yourself than him. He still hums in acknowledgement. âWhyâd you want my bike back so bad, by the way?â
Your friend leans forward on his knees. âSo I can still go for rides with you.â
âWhat, do I make a bad backpack?â You tease with a grin that has Sukunaâs shoulders falling to his sides as his anger subsides completely.
âHard to drive when youâre feelinâ me up, princess.â
Your lips purse as your cheeks redden, caught off-guard by his nonchalant smirk. Youâd felt up his abs a bit during the ride to your old place, sure, but being called out still had the tips of your ears heating up.
You stubbornly avoid his gaze, going back to figuring out if youâd forgotten anything. Deep chuckles resonate from behind you as your new roommate ruffles your hair and gets to his feet.
âBy the way weâre goinâ out tonight.â
You tilt your head, eyes following Sukuna as he saunters over to the fridge and pulls out an energy drink.
âWhereâd you have in mind?â You ask curiously, not entirely sure youâre in the mood to go out.
âThat new rom com movie or whatever that you wanted to see is showing tonight. I got tickets.â He reaches back into the fridge and pulls out your favorite beverage, tossing it to you.
You barely manage to catch it, mumbling a thank you. âI donât really know if Iâm up for it,â you admit, staring at the drink in your hands.
âI already bought the tickets,â he shrugs, laying back on the couch again. âSuck it up.â
Your nose wrinkles in distaste but you know itâs likely for the best that youâre out of the house so you do, in fact, suck it up.
It quickly becomes time for the movie and you find yourself back in the parking garage a couple of hours before sunset.
âCan you drive?â
âYou gonna feel me up again?â Sukuna raises a brow at you, but a hint of a smirk pulls at his lips.
â... Can I?â
Your confidence catches him off-guard and he blanches, his lips parting as he stares at you. His eyes flicker to your lips and that single action has your heart beating fast and hard in your chest. The fluttering in your stomach as you wait for him to react is enough to make you wretch and you consider yourself lucky that he seems to pull himself together as his lips tug upwards into a sly grin.
He takes a step forward, dipping his head down to whisper in your ear. âDonât stray too low while Iâm drivinâ.â
Youâre left choking on air as Sukunaâs tone sends a jolt of electricity straight up your spine, setting your entire body ablaze. Your eyes trail the length of his body, pausing as you watch him pull his leather jacket over his thin white shirt. The way his muscles ripple and tense with each movement has you swallowing hard as you realize just how built and toned he really is.
Youâre thankful you arenât caught and are spared from Sukunaâs teasing as you hop onto the back of his bike, purposefully making a show of feeling up his abs. Moving from his pecs, across the peaks and valleys of each set of muscles, down until you take pause as you feel the waist of his pants connect with the tips of your fingers.
Sukuna groans, looking over his shoulder before he puts on his helmet. âNot while Iâm driving, got it?â
You nod at him, batting your eyelashes sweetly. He huffs, adjusting the crotch of his pants before pulling his helmet on. He waits for you to follow suit before pulling out of the parking garage and heading to the theater.
Sukunaâs warmth is both a beacon of hope and a searing flame to your skin. A comfort and an exciting new idea to explore. You hold onto him tightly, your body melting into his heat as he drives much more carefully with you hooked onto him than he had earlier in the day.
Sukuna pulls into a spot by the front door of the theater and waits for you to let go before hopping off of the bike himself.
âPopcorn?â He asks you mildly, hands in his pockets.
âUm, thatâs alright.â
Sukunaâs eyes narrow. âWhy?â
âI donât need popcorn.â
âDonât need or donât want?â
You pause, your brow knit as you silently question what he means, but Sukunaâs seen this play out before with your ex and he wants to break this habit.
âDo you want popcorn, y/n?â
You run a hand through your hair, exhaling quietly. âYeah, itâd be nice.â
Sukuna nods, surprising you as he grabs not your forearm or bicep as he usually does, but your hand. His much larger, veiny hand folds over yours, his fingers tangling with yours. Your hand is so small in his and even the feeling of your hand against him feels like a reminder of just how cute you are to him.
Your cheeks are surely dusted in a red glow, but you donât mind given the surprisingly pleasant eagerness in your chest.
With popcorn in-hand, Sukuna leads you into the theater, taking you to your seat and relaxing into the reclining chair. He lifts the arm rest between you, not once disconnecting your hands like itâs the most natural action in the world.
And in all honesty, it is. Everything with Sukuna is easy. It feels right. It feels right in a way youâre not familiar with and itâs exhilarating.
Given the cheesy scenario he set up for, you half-expect Sukuna to make a move during the movie, but his thumb simply continues to rub soothing lines over your knuckles.
Itâs after the movie that he surprises you.
Bounding down the stairs ahead of Sukuna as you tug him along with you, youâre practically gushing about the movie that youâre positive he barely paid attention to. It isnât his style of film but he doesnât mind either way.
â-I mean come on, how can you not love Owen Wilson in that role?â
âMm.â
â-and itâs so charming watching him start to learn and care about her world-â
âMhmm.â
â-oh my god and when she realizes she loves him and she shows up at the tournament-â
âIâm glad you liked it.â Despite how little he has to say about the movie, heâs just happy you enjoyed it.
â-and when he gets her flooowers?-â
Sukuna chuckles as you continue to gush over the movie at him. Still hand-in-hand, he tugs you along, quietly listening to your rambles as he makes his way to his bike. His chest swirls with anticipation as you pay his actions no mind when he turns towards the storage compartment of his bike as you continue rambling on.
It takes only a moment for his hand to reach the delicate item heâs in search of, deftly wrapping two fingers around the dainty object. Keeping his hand behind him, he turns to you with a soft smile. Lidded eyes stare at you with mirth, an expression that isnât typical for Sukuna, so your rambles begin to fade into silence as you tilt your head curiously at him.
âFlowers, hm?â He asks, pulling a beautiful, blooming red rose out from behind him. He holds it out to you, pulling you closer by the hand thatâs still intertwined with his as you purse your lips in disbelief.
âI- I-â You stammer over your words as your mouth goes dry, eyes fixed on the gorgeous flower held in Sukunaâs fingers.
Itâs almost a strange sight to behold- the same man youâd seen passed out on your couch dozens of times, the man youâd had to bail out of jail on more than one occasion, the same man who grumbled and complained every single time you went to Redâs Bar- now holding a dainty little rose for you.
âW- when did you even have time to get this?â You shake your head, it doesnât matter. âSukuna, this is so much I-â
His brows raise as your rambles begin again and although heâs flustered you more times than he can count over the years, heâs never seen you genuinely nervous like this.
â-you really didnât have to do anything like this for me-â
âY/n.â
â-taking me to the movies is already a big deal and I know the last day has been a hassle for you-â
âY/n,â Sukuna chuckles this time, his grip on your hand tightening as he squeezes it in an effort to get your attention.
â-I didnât get you anything, I donât-â
âY/n,â Sukuna leans down, capturing your lips against his. His lips are soft and the kiss is uncharacteristically sweet. His hand slides out of your grasp, sliding up your arm and coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you closer to him. He parts from your lips with a smirk. âShut up, princess.â
You stare breathlessly at him, eyes flickering wildly between his eyes, his lips, before resting down on the rose again.
âTake the damn flower.â
âR-right!â You gingerly reach out, holding the stem as you bring it up to your nose. âYou didnât have to do all this, you know.â
âWell, someone had to,â it comes out as more of a grumble as his brow furrows, but his fingers curl into the skin of your waist as he speaks, betraying the meaning behind his words.
âMhmm, someone.â You agree teasingly, smiling up at him. âThank you, Kuna.â You rise up onto your tiptoes, resting a hand on his chest as you lean up to kiss him, just barely able to reach his jaw.
His chest vibrates in a content hum. âSo short,â he mocks, tilting his head to meet your lips again. Pulling his other hand from his pocket, he pulls the flower from your fingers, setting it in the storage behind him and finding your waist to bring you flush against him.
Your hands slide up the length of his hard musculature until you find his neck. Your fingers tangle in the short hair at his nape and another hum slips from his lips, swallowed by your kiss.
He leans down to meet your height better as the kiss gains urgency, years of pent up emotions flooding from Sukunaâs every movement. His fingers curl into your skin, pulling you impossibly closer.
âKuna?â
He grunts into the kiss, smirking against your lips when he slides a hand from your waist down to your hips.
âCan we-â you breathe out between kisses, â-go home?â
Sukuna parts from your lips, examining your expression with blown pupils, so wide you can barely see the deep color of his irises. He swallows hard, his chest rising and falling fast as he nods silently.
You let out a surprised squeal when he grabs you by the hips and effortlessly lifts you onto his bike.
â-can do it myself,â you insist but Sukuna doesnât register your words, too caught up in the intoxication of your smell, your feel, your taste. He wants more.
Hopping on the bike in front of you, he waits for your helmet to be on before he starts his Ducati and throws his helmet on. Your hands take their place around his toned abdomen, sliding down without a momentâs thought.
âBehave,â Sukuna hisses loud enough that you hear him even over the sound of his bikeâs engine. He doesnât need your visor up to know youâre smiling innocently at him.
He clicks his tongue and speeds out of the parking lot back towards his apartment. Though heâs still more careful driving with his sweet little backpack clinging to him, youâre not oblivious to the fact that he is driving quicker than usual.
Relaxing against Sukunaâs toned back brings with it a comfort you havenât felt in a long time. Itâs strange, despite him speeding through traffic and the sparking tension between you both, itâs easy to close your eyes and relax against him.
Itâs not a feeling youâve had with your ex for a long time. Although you ignored the flags throughout your relationship and defended him when he didnât deserve it, it wasnât always that way, but Sukuna has always been a safe and worry-free escape from the world for you. Since the first day he drove into your life, since you first realized that Sukuna enjoyed your company as much as you enjoyed his.
Heâs a hard book to read and an easy presence to be in.
Your eyes flicker open, not realizing youâd grown so relaxed holding onto him that heâd already pulled into his parking spot, parking beside your Kawasaki.
Sukuna instinctively moves to get off his bike, expecting you to follow him, but pauses when you move rather sluggishly behind him. Pulling his helmet off, he shakes his head in an effort to fix his hair before he eyes you over his shoulder.
âYou gonna get off?â
To anyone else, it might come across as aggressive, but his tone is mild as ever.
âSorry, Kuna.â
You exhale and push off the bike with a hand resting on Sukunaâs shoulder blade. He watches you curiously, tucking you under his shoulder and leading the way back up to his apartment.
Pulling out his keys in the elevator, he ducks his head to get a good look at your expression.
âTired?â
âNo! ⊠Well, yeah, but I was just relaxing,â you tell him and he hums, his eyes swirling with mirth. You cross an arm over your chest, your breast pressing against your arm. His eyes flicker to the sight, pupils dilating as he swallows hard. âSee something you like, Sukuna?â
Your lidded eyes and purring voice has the taller man teetering on the edge of self control. His mind reels with thoughts that arenât appropriate for the elevator and the moment the door opens, heâs making his way to his apartment like a man on a mission.
Desire pools between your thighs at his eagerness, made more apparent in the way he fumbles at the door with his keys.
Itâs not even a second after the door is closed and he maneuvers you against the door, helmets on the ground as his fingers move to flip the lock behind you before they travel up the side of your body, admiring your curves before he cups your face.
He captures your lips, hungry to taste you again. He wants to devour you, he wants to mark you and make you his. Your lips move in tandem with his, matching his fervor with equal eagerness.
Your fingers rake his chest, thumbs sliding over the length of his collarbones. The feeling of his broad chest beneath your hands drives you crazy and you press back against him, your breasts pressing against the expanse of his chest.
âKuna, wait,â you breathe, chest heaving as you part from him. Vermillion irises lock on you as he pulls back, his fingers gripping your waist almost bruisingly. âThis isn'tâŠâ You pause, your mouth opening and closing hesitantly.
âOut with it,â Sukuna encourages hoarsely.
You shoot him a wry smile at his blunt impatience. âThis isnât just a hookup for me, you know.â
He raises a brow at you. âYou think thatâs what this is for me?â You might even assume he sounds offended.
âNo! No,â you clarify, shaking your head as your pretty eyes go wide. He rolls his shoulders, leaning his face closer to yours as he intently watches you. âI just⊠I-â you pause again, avoiding his intense gaze.
âItâs not a one night stand, y/n.â Sukunaâs pupils shrink as he speaks solemnly. He feels you relax in his grip, your eyes coming up to meet his. âRelax nâ let me take care of you.â
Your cheeks redden at your best friendâs boldness and you shuffle as you press your thighs together.
âI better not be your rebound, yâknow.â Thereâs a teasing lilt to his voice now, the elbow holding him up against the door sliding down as his face grows closer to you. God, heâs tall. Heâs tall and built like a monster, and between the size of his hands, his muscles, not to mention his height⊠Your wide, almost timid eyes flicker down to his crotch. He catches the action and smirks. âDonât get nervous now,â he leers.
âIâm not!â You squeak, the blush spreading to the tips of your ears. âAnd⊠youâre not a rebound.â You grab his shirt collar as you pull him in for a kiss, much sweeter than the covetous one youâd shared a minute ago.
Sukunaâs eyes flutter shut as he finds himself relaxing into your touch when you slide your hands up his neck and into his dark, undyed undercut.
âI like you, Ryo.â You admit when you pull back just enough for the words to reach his ears. His smirk can be felt against your lips.
âFuck, youâre hot.â In true Sukuna fashion, thatâs his way of reciprocating your admission, because he doesnât do feelings. But you know. You know exactly what he means.
You grin against his lips, giggling like a giddy school girl whoâs just seen her crush smile. Sukunaâs chest rumbles at your sudden timid delight.
âYouâre such a loser,â he chuckles, his hand moving from your waist to hold your chin. He kisses you softly, your giggles persisting against his lips. Your fingers curl gleefully in his hair when he pulls back with impishly narrowed eyes. âYouâre makinâ it hard to kiss you.â
âSorry,â you chirp, your eyes crinkling in the corners. âItâs just cute- youâre cute.â
âMe?â He pulls back, standing at his full height and making a point of showing off his broad shouldered stance. âCute?â He tilts his head quizzically as if to prove a point but if anything, you find the strands of hair falling out of place over his forehead cute.
âYeah, you.â
âIâll show you cute,â he grumbles, and suddenly youâre lifted off the ground effortlessly. You shriek in surprise in his ear as you grasp at the back of his leather jacket. He mumbles something about you being a brat before dumping you on the couch and crawling over your body.
His form looms over you and youâre both suddenly very aware of the immense size difference between you both, something which might be one of Sukunaâs favorite things. He loves how tiny you are, how easily he can handle you.
Sukuna takes pause, his usually dour gaze filled with longing, admiring what heâd wanted for so long as you stare back at him with wide eyes. He loves the fiery attitude you always sport, but this flustered side of you is new to him and he drinks it in like a drug.
Your chest rises and falls quickly, eyes darting from his arms that cage you in, down the expanse of his chest that peeks through his V-neck, back up to that alluring tattooed face. His sharp jaw, his ever-present smirk, his intense stare, itâs all so goddamn sexy and youâre flustered to silence like a deer in the headlights being hunted by a wolf.
âFunny, you seem to have lost your bark,â he comments tantalizingly, dipping down to kiss your jaw. Now with your body trapped beneath him, he feels the way your hips twitch. âWhat happened to the brat from earlier?â
You swallow down a moan as his voice sets you ablaze. Your hands find purchase on his biceps, fingers gripping him tightly. You take a breath to readjust and bat your lashes up at him as you push through the sudden nerves that seem to chase you. âBrat? I donât know what youâre talking about, Kuna.â
Sukuna grins, a devilish gleam in his eyes. âThere she is,â he hums, bringing himself down to his elbows to kiss you wholly. His lips move urgently against yours, tongue swiping your lower lip almost immediately. He groans when you grant him access by parting your lips, drinking in your taste. You gasp in surprise as his tongue piercing grazes your tongue, a strangely pleasurable new feeling.
Your hands slide from his biceps up his neck, keeping him close, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss. When you shift beneath him to clench your thighs as heat pools in your lower abdomen, he groans.
âFuck,â he hisses into your mouth, catching you by surprise when he nips your lower lip. He pulls back for only a moment but in that split second the look on your best friendâs face tells you everything you need to know. Youâre his prey, and heâs about to devour you.
âKuna-!â You gasp in surprise when kisses down the side of your neck, leaving behind purple bruises as he sucks and nips at the side of your neck. Reaching the sensitive spot at the base of your neck, his teeth graze your skin before gently sinking in, testing the waters with a glance at your face.
You whine, squirming beneath him.
Sukuna withdraws with a smirk, running his tongue soothingly over the reddened skin. âKinky little thing, arenât you?â He purrs, rolling his hips against you so roughly you whimper. âShit,â he mumbles and returns to his ministrations, his hips rolling against yours like a dog in heat.
âSh-shut up, KunaâŠâ you groan, rutting your hips up into him. His movement stutters with pleasure and he nips your skin again in response. âDarlinâ, hold onto me,â his husky voice commands against the skin of your ear.
âHm? Ah-!â
Sukuna slides a muscular arm beneath the small of your back, pressing you to him and urging your arms to cling to his shoulders. You wrap your legs around his waist as he picks you up, holding your small frame to him in one arm.
He carries you to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him as you press kisses to his collarbone, leaving behind marks of your own. He hums, plopping you down onto the bed and standing to shrug his jacket off and unbuckle his belt, letting it and his jeans drop to the floor.
Youâre sure your face is red as a tomato, pupils dilated as you admire his body, your gaze landing on the boner thatâs pulling the fabric of his black Calvin Klein boxers taut. You swipe your tongue out over your lips, bringing your lower lip between your teeth.
Your best friend grins, pulling you to the edge of the bed by your ankles. You let out a surprised gasp, gripping at the sheets at either side of you.
âGânna take my time nâ treat her right,â he purrs, falling over you as your legs wrap around his waist to pull him closer. He could be talking about you or your pussy, it doesnât matter either way.
He lifts your shirt up over your head and you arch your back to make it easier. Youâre so pliant for him and he adores your obedience, adores the desperate, lustful look in your eyes.
âShit, girl,â he mumbles, his eyes eating you alive on the spot as he admires your body. Youâre so small in comparison to the way his figure looms over you.
Catching your gaze, he squeezes one of your breasts, slipping the other from the fabric of your lace bra to press the warm flat of his tongue to your nipple. You jolt as pleasure buzzes through your body, moaning when he sucks the hardened bud between his lips. The cool metal of his piercing intensifies the pleasure when it grazes your skin and causes goosebumps to raise on your arms.
Your hands find his hair, tugging enough that Sukuna smirks against the plush of your skin.
âSo needy,â he hums. Your thighs clench around his waist as the vibration of his voice against your skin rocks through you.
Your lidded eyes stare down at him and you take the opportunity to tug his shirt off. He complies, tossing it across the room. His heavily tattooed chest, abdomen, arms- heâs gorgeous and you can barely believe heâs standing over you right now, eyes for only you.
âKuna,â you mumble between moans, jerking as he flicks your nipple with a smug grin.
He mutters out a âwhatâ before sinking his teeth into your breast. You gasp, eyes widening and bucking your hips against him as your head swings back into the mattress. As you arch your back for him, Sukuna deftly slips your bra off.
âStop being a tease,â you plead, the hard length of his cock twitching against your core as you tighten your legs.
âA tease? What do you want then, hm?â His voice is cocky, knowing. He wants you on your knees begging.
âKunaaaa,â you groan, laying the back of your arm across your eyes, suddenly timid.
Sukuna clicks his tongue, pulling your arm away from your face. He grabs your other arm and holds them both down above you with one large hand. âWhat do you want, brat?â His face is inches away from yours now and he rolls his hips against your core teasingly despite the ache he feels.
âI-â you pant, pausing to look at his intense stare. âWanâ you to eat me out.â
âYeah?â He hums, lowering his head so that his lips brush yours. âThought you had manners?â
âPlease, Kuna,â you beg in a whiny voice. Sukuna smirks, getting to his knees at the edge of the bed and draping his arm over your hips to hold them down as he sprawls your legs out before him.
âFuckinâ soaked for me,â he groans, his breath warm against the fabric of your panties. He wastes no time hooking his fingers through the fabric to pull them aside. His digits brush your folds as you buck your hips in a desperate attempt at friction.
Chuckling softly, Sukuna languidly licks up your cunt, savoring your taste with the slow movement. You squirm beneath him, raking your fingers through his hair as you try to buck your hips towards his tongue.
âPatience,â Sukuna hums and flicks his tongue out to circle your clit. His piercing grazes the sensitive bundle of nerves and your eyes go wide with pleasure.
âSuch a- hah- asshole- ah-!â Sukuna doesnât give you the satisfaction of teasing him as he pushes his long tongue into your dripping chasm, your walls clenching around the muscle in ecstasy.
Sukuna groans as your fingers tug his hair. He lets you buck your hips into his mouth and ride his face, relishing in the sound of your moans and pants.
The feeling of his tongue inside you is already so intense that when he brings a thumb up to flick your clit, the sudden desire that pulses through your body straight to the knot tightening in your core has you bucking your hips in surprise. His grip on your hips fastens as he holds you down again, keeping you from squirming out of his grasp.
The desire and heat pooling in your core quickly grow in intensity as Sukunaâs experienced tongue plunges through your folds, drinking up your arousal.
âK-Kuna- I- Iâm gonna-â your words are mere babbles as you try to speak through the bliss, your orgasm steadily approaching.
âLet me taste it, princess.â
The feeling of his voice with his tongue within you, the way his piercing suddenly flicks your gummy walls, his thumb on your clit, the way he calls you princess, itâs so much that your orgasm crashes over you in a wave, causing your body to jolt and jerk against the mattress.
Sukunaâs thumb leaves your clit as he holds down one of your thighs to keep you from crushing his head as you moan and pant out his name while your body spasms. He slows his ministrations to drink every last drop of your orgasm before flicking your clit with his tongue one last time, pleased when you jolt.
He pushes himself up, wiping your slick from his chin with the back of his hand.
âShit, youâre hot,â he mutters. You barely have a moment to come down from your high before heâs pulling you to the floor by your waist, dropping you on your knees. His hungry expression and throbbing cock tell you everything you need to know as you look up at him through your lashes.
Your fingers curl around the waist of his boxers as you pull them down his thighs. His rock-hard erection slaps against his abs as you free it from the confines of the fabric. Sure, Sukuna is a monster of a man at nearly seven feet tall of solid muscle mass and youâd felt him grinding against you, but your eyes still widen at the sight of his cock.
You feel your mouth water as you stare at the angry red tip, veins protruding and pulsing with desire on either side.
âThink you can take it?â He asks and although itâs a teasing and husky tone he uses with you, he is genuinely asking as well. You nod eagerly and he grins. âGood girl,â he purrs.
Bringing a hand up to his cock, you wrap your fingers daintily around the thick base, looking up at those glimmering vermillion eyes as you run your tongue from base to tip, eliciting a heavy groan from the man.
âChrist,â he groans, his head flying back in pleasure. You smirk and take the tip of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the leaking slit before teasingly pulling back with a pop!
His hips shudder as he does everything in his power to stop himself from using your mouth, to stop himself from shoving his cock down your throat with no warning.
âNeedy, Ryo?â
You donât expect the way that sets him off, lights his desire ablaze anew as he fists your hair and leans down with a clenched jaw to look you in the eyes.
You whimper in surprise, closing your thighs from where you sit on your knees as your cunt pulses from the way he handles you so roughly.
âLetâs get it straight right now which of us is needy,â he growls with a smirk, eyeing the way you shift your thighs. âYou gonna be a good little slut for me?â
You nod up at him, pupils dilating as he tugs your hair. He grins, narrowing his eyes. âWords, woman.â
âYes, Kuna,â you purr back at him. The wild look in his eyes intensifies as he receives your consent and pushes the tip of his cock past your lips. His jaw goes slack in pleasure as you swirl your tongue around the head, lapping up his precum.
âShit,â he groans out, watching as you take his cock without breaking eye contact while he thrusts further into your mouth. You gag when he reaches the back of your throat, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes and you shut them as you take his length. âAh ah, look at me. Takinâ me so well.â
Sukuna knows you canât take his entire cock in your mouth, he knows thereâs a fairly large size difference between the both of you. It doesnât stop the way he pushes your head down on his cock watching the way tears run down your cheeks as you so obediently let him handle you.
Saliva runs down the length of his cock and you bring a hand up to the base, pumping what you canât fit in your throat. His hand pulls your mouth off his cock, adjusting his hand to hold your head back against the bed so that he can relentlessly fuck into you, massive cock hitting the back of your throat and gagging you with each thrust.
He throws his head back as you pump the base of his shaft while he fucks you, being his perfect little doll. His abs flex and twitch when your muscles tense as you swallow around him.
âSuch a nasty fuckinâ throat.â He barely gives you any time to breathe as his pace increases, along with the pace of your hand to match. His chest heaves as he moans, letting you dig your nails into his thigh for purchase while he uses your throat.
His cock twitches as you moan when he hits the back of your throat and his eyes shut tight with pleasure, jaw going slack. When he jolts again with the next thrust, you know heâs close so you hum contentedly, sending vibrations up his shaft and causing his hips to jerk erratically as he chases his high.
âF-fuck,â he groans out before his hips stutter and your eyes widen when his cum unloads down your throat, thick ropes of salty sweet arousal swallowed as he keeps himself warm within your mouth. You move your lips slowly around his girth, milking every last drop of his orgasm. You pull back after a moment to allow yourself a chance to breathe, panting as you stare up at him.
His chest heaves and his cock twitches every few seconds, telling of the orgasm heâs just had. Still, his eyes burn with desire when he finally opens them.
He reaches down to pick you up and sets you at the edge of the bed on all fours roughly.
He squeezes your ass before slapping it once. Your body jolts in surprise as you gasp.
âPrincess, you on any birth control?â
âMhmm, you can go raw.â
You hear him mumble a curse beneath his breath. âYou tell me if itâs too much,â he tells you, catching the way you glance over your shoulder at him and nod.
In spite of the rough way he uses and handles you, heâs still very attentive to your pleasure and comfort.
He pays no mind to the fact that you actually liked the panties youâre wearing as he physically tears them off of your body, tossing the ripped fabric aside. You whine in complaint, shooting him a look from over your shoulder.
âIâll buy ya new ones,â he huffs, returning his attention to your body.
Squeezing your ass in both palms, he leans down and buries his face in your pussy, licking a stripe from your clit to your dripping entrance. He hums at how wet you still are, moving a hand up your spine to hold you down and keep you arched for him.
His teeth sink into the plump of your ass and you squeak at the sudden burst of pain that quickly twists to pleasure when he soothingly laps over the mark heâs left.
He slides his hand down from squeezing your plump ass to glide a finger through your lubricated folds. You lean into his touch, gasping when he suddenly plunges one long finger into your lubricated pussy.
Your walls are tight as they pulse around his long finger. He eases another digit in, pumping them slowly as he realizes just how tight you are.
âRelax, darlinâ,â he hums soothingly, curling his fingers against your walls a couple of times before he finds your g spot. His voice is such a stark contrast to his rough tendencies, but itâs soothing to have him so worried for your comfort.
âRyo, f-fuck-â you moan out as his fingers languidly curl against your gummy walls which gradually relax against his long fingers. With a couple more pumps of his fingers, he pulls them out, leaving you pulsing around nothing and craving his touch as you shift your hips in search of friction with a whine.
Sukuna grunts when he lines himself up with your plump cunt, pumping himself a couple of times before he slowly eases his tip into you. Your eyes widen at the delicious burn of the stretch, fingers curling in the sheets as you adjust to his massive size. And god this is only the tip.
You cry out, the feeling of his girthy cock filling you up blurring your vision as the pain transitions to pleasure before the process begins all over again with each movement he makes. His cock throbs, making you feel impossibly full.
Sukuna wants to ruin you, he wants to tear you apart on his cock, but he doesnât want to hurt his sweet little best friend, so he watches the way your face contorts in mild pain, waiting for your expression to relax as he slowly feeds you his cock, inch by inch.
âDoinâ so good for me, darlinâ,â Sukuna purrs, his thumb stroking your back in contrast to the fact that heâs still holding you down and keeping you arched for him.
His cock head brushes your cervix, pressing against it as he bottoms out, fingers curling against your back at how tight youâre squeezing him as he waits for you to adjust.
Your shoulders relax beneath his touch and you whimper as he slides his cock out to the tip, setting a moderate pace so as not to shock you. The feeling of his thick, veiny cock is like nothing youâve ever experienced, his size just so much to take that you moan and whine with each thrust of his cock into your tight hole.
You grip at the sheets beneath you, gasping as Sukuna speeds up his thrusts and presses you hard into the mattress, muffling your moans.
âKuna- mmph,â you let out a muffled whimper, jolting when he slaps your ass roughly, no longer holding back.
âF-fuckinâ- shit-â he groans, his fingers gripping your skin bruisingly as he holds you in place. He leans forward, sliding his hand from your back to your neck, restricting your airflow subtly. Pleasure tears through your spine as he leans forward and pushes in deeper with each thrust, pulling moans and screams of his name from deep in your throat.
âK-Kuna, Iâm- hah- close,â you whimper, words muffled by the sheets beneath you. He loosens his fingers from your neck, grabbing your waist with both hands as he pulls your ass closer to him, pounding into you faster as he chases his own high.
âShit, yâr such a good lil slut for me,â he groans, feeling your walls tighten around his thick length with each thrust.
Pleasure tightens deep within your core, knotting and curling as he fucks you so deliciously that your juices are already dripping from your cunt around his hilt. His eyes lock on the sight and he throws his head back in pleasure, his own high not far behind.
With one last hit against your cervix, your orgasm hits you like a goddamn truck, like nothing youâve ever experienced before as your entire body shakes and jolts, your knees and legs giving out.
If Sukuna wasnât holding you up, you surely would have collapsed as stars cloud your vision and you moan his name like a mantra. Your eyes are glossy and your mind delirious as he continues to fuck you through your high, your walls milking him in a way that has him quickly climbing towards his release.
With only a few more erratic thrusts that have you whining under him in overstimulation, his cock twitches suddenly as his entire load fills you up, mixing with your juices and dripping out of your swollen lips down your thighs that Sukuna is still holding up.
He moans as he slowly lets your body go and you sink to the mattress, panting beneath him as his cock slips from between your thighs. His eyes flicker to your pretty pussy, his cum leaking out with each pulse of your walls. His chest heaves as well as he slowly gets to his feet and walks to the side of the bed, sliding up against the headboard.
Sukuna pulls your body up from where youâve collapsed, wrapping his arms around you as his sweat-slicked skin sticks to yours. Heâs much gentler now, looking you over for any signs that he might have hurt you accidentally, but when you finally open your eyes, theyâre glossy with pleasure and filled with adoration.
He canât help the way he genuinely smiles, not a common thing for the tepid biker, but when you grin and giggle in return, it makes his heart jump.
He practically turns to putty in your hands and as you silently bask in the afterglow of the best sex of your life and lean into Sukunaâs embrace.
âWasnât too rough with you, was I?â He asks after a moment and youâre surprised by the way his fingers softly graze your skin.
âYou were great Kuna, donât worry,â you answer, yawning afterwards.
He hums in relief, leaning his head back for a moment before taking it upon himself to get you cleaned up before you pass out. Grabbing a towel, he wipes your thighs and tosses the towel in a hamper at the edge of the room before pulling the covers over your figure and crawling in behind you.
âRyo?â
Sukuna hums quizzically.
âDo I get to know how long now?â
âYouâre a brat,â he growls in your ear as he pulls you flush against his chest, his arms folded around your middle.
âYeah yeah, just answer the question,â you grouse, rolling your eyes. You have an inkling of a feeling that you know when he realized his feelings for you, but youâre curious nonetheless.
He sighs, knowing youâll never let him live this down. âDunno. Itâs been a while,â he avoids the question.
You flip in his arms to face him with raised brows. He groans, avoiding your gaze.
âI guess around the time you got with your ex,â he admits, his eyes locked on the wall behind you as he tucks your head under his chin to avoid your intent gaze.
âIs that why you stopped seeing people?â
âYou noticed?â
âKuna, you had a new girl under your arm every time I saw you for a while.â
He grunts, pulling you tighter to his body.
Giggling, you kiss his collar bone. âThatâs sweet.â
Sukunaâs chest rises and falls heavily as he lets out a long sigh. You can practically feel the way his cheeks are heating up as you tease him, something that youâd only managed a handful of times in all the years youâve known him.
âSorry, am I embarrassing the big bad motorcycling bad boy?â You push, squeaking in protest as Sukuna wastes no time in shoving you away from him in an attempt to push you off the bed. âWait, wait, wait! Iâm sorry!â You insist, looking to him for mercy as you cling to his arms, clutching desperately at the flexed muscles.
âAnd?â
âAndâŠâ you search for the words heâs looking to hear in his eyes, gripping his arms tighter. âI wonât do it again?â
âAnd?â
âIâm sorry I ate the rest of your leftovers this morning?â
His brow furrows. Oh shit.
âI mean⊠no I didnât. Theyâre still there,â you mumble, avoiding his judgemental gaze guiltily.
Sukunaâs hold on your shoulder begins to lax as you teeter at the edge of the bed, threatening to drop you to the floor. You scramble to try to grip him tighter.
âIâll buy you new food!â
Sukuna sighs and drags you back to him. You let out a relieved puff of air against his chest, snuggling back into his warmth. âJusâ wanted you to say when it was for you.â
You tilt your head up at him, only able to see his chin. âWhen what was?â
âYou know. When you realized what you think of me or whatever.â Sukunaâs gruff tone is telling that he isnât used to such sincere conversations. Although youâve known him a long time and heâd told you about damn near every sexual encounter heâs had, Sukunaâs most record-breaking relationship was a shocking three months.
Of course, Sukuna isnât a romantic, and she didnât know him well enough to know that he was putting in effort, so it didnât last long.
âOh. When I realized I like you?â
He grunts.
You hum in thought, moments throughout your friendship scrolling through your mind like a slideshow.
Of course, your forefront thought is when Sukuna first stepped off that stupidly well taken care of Ducati and surprised you when he managed to not only get you home on a running bike, but let you buy him a drink. Heâs always been ridiculously attractive, but no, those werenât feelings.
You think of all the times you hung out with friends and they would point out his change in behavior. Youâd always think on the statement, watch the way that aloof look of his turns mild when he faces you, but you didnât want to think about it too much.
You ponder on the time youâd called him on a whim early in your friendship when your date had bailed on you. Sukuna did not want to see the cheesy romance movie you had tickets for, but heâd sucked it up and shown up. Youâd offered to buy him dinner as a thank you, but he paid regardless. It was the kind of thing a real date would do, but heâd complained so much you brushed the thought away.
When you were entirely too obsessed with Game of Thrones and insisted he be your king in a big fur cloak for Halloween, maybe then something had changed.
âYou want me to be some guy from the show you like?â Heâd grumbled and guffawed over having to dress up at all, insisting heâd been planning to put in minimal effort.
âPleaaase, Kuna?â You were practically on your knees by the time heâd agreed with a roll of his eyes. âYouâd make a good Robb Stark,â you insist before second-guessing yourself. âWell, if he was grumpy and kind of a dick.â You shrug, grinning up at him as he shoots you a begrudging look through narrowed eyes.
It only takes you a few days to put together the costume given the abundance of medieval king and knight costumes around.
His arms cross over his rugged chest, the fabric of his shirt pulled taut by the movement. âYou canât be serious.â He stares at the tight faux leather coat you hand him with a scowl.
âHe wears something similar!â
âIâm not wearing this.â
âPlease, you said you would!â You pout at him as you sport your best puppy dog eyes.
âNo.â
You jut your bottom lip out, taking a step towards him as you shove the leather top to his chest. His eyes narrow, gears turning in his head until he shuts his eyes, giving in.
Your eyes light up as he pulls the top from you, groaning as he pulls it on over his shirt. Itâs tight on him, which you expected given Sukunaâs sheer size, but itâs a strangely hot look on your rugged best friend. Even more so when he lets you drape the cape over his shoulders and set a cute little crown on his head.
âNo, absolutely not,â he hisses, slapping your hand away when you try to clip the crown in place with a bobby pin.
âYouâre such a pain,â you tease as you try again, holding an extra pin between your teeth.
Standing back, you admire your work as you receive a very unamused look in return. Sukunaâs build makes for a very kingly stature in spite of the contrasting tattoos and it makes him hot. In fact, youâre half afraid someone will whisk him away at the Halloween party given how nicely heâs cleaned up.
Your lips twitch downwards at the thought. You donât want him to be whisked away. You want your king by your side.
âSo?â
Snapping you from your thoughts, your eyes light up again. âYou look great,â you tell him with a grin. His eyes flicker with something you donât recognize.
He hums, examining your expression. âWell, go get ready then. Gonna sweat through all this leather nâ shit.â
âOh like you arenât used to leather,â you roll your eyes, but you oblige, getting your matching Talisa Stark outfit on.
When you return to Sukuna sitting on his couch, you muster your best impression of your character. âMy king?â
Your best friendâs attention turns to you, eyes widening as you approach him in a floor-length queenâs gown with a matching gray cloak and a crown pinned into your hair. âShit, yâ look good,â he breathes out.
Your cheeks heat up and you scratch at the back of your neck. âThanks, Kuna.â You clear your throat and your mind to the best of your ability as you offer him a hand. âReady?â
He hums, taking your hand before grabbing his keys and offering you his arm. âMy queen?â
Youâd be lying if you said that wasnât the first spark. The first real spark. As he loosened up throughout the night and repetitively called you his princess, you knew you were spent. Each and every time he used the name had you giggling up a storm and while youâd brushed it off as intoxication at the time, you knew the truth deep down.
So when heâd returned to his aloof self the following morning, you swallowed down your feelings.
You couldnât bear the thought of losing your best friend and he didnât have a good track record with relationships. Youâd be lying if you said you werenât scared, even now.
âHalloween,â you utter finally, unsure of just how long youâve been silently contemplating an answer in his arms.
âFigures,â his chest rumbles in brief laughter.
âYou knew?â
âNah, thought it was the alcohol.â
âYeah, I thought so too. Thatâs why I started dating other people.â
Sukuna doesnât respond but he buries his face into the crown of your head, drinking in your warmth, your intoxicating scent, and your soft skin against his as he closes his eyes.
No more other people, youâre his.
âWas it me callinâ you my princess?â He asks of the night you realized youâd caught feelings.
âThat, and you make a good Robb Stark.â
He snorts. âI remember being told I was a dick.â
You shrug, smiling against the warm skin of his chest. âI donât retract that statement.â
He presses a kiss to the top of your head and warmth spreads through your body as you relax against him, eyes closing as exhaustion spreads across you like a warm blanket. You know the kiss is a sassy retort, but it shamelessly works on you.
âFine. I retract my statement.â
âThatâs my princess.â
â
âCan you stop moving so much?â
Unsurprisingly, Sukunaâs got an attitude today and he absolutely plans on making it your problem as he huffs.
Your gloved hands work carefully to thoroughly cover every last strand of his short hair with dye. You know very well the only reason heâs being such a menace today is because youâd suggested a change in color and heâs afraid itâll look bad.
In all your years of knowing him, heâs always had the same pink hair, so you were thrilled he was allowing you the honor of dying it back to its original color, black. Youâd actually insisted on orange or red, but black was the only thing he was willing to compromise on.
You make your way back around him and find his scowling face looking up at you. Covering the last few strands of hair over his forehead, you boldly sit on his lap.
His demeanor changes in an instant as you straddle him and his hands eagerly find your hips and begin roaming up your waist and back down to your thighs. You shoot him a warning glance as you accidentally smudge some black dye on his forehead, but he pays you no mind as he continues his ministrations.
âKuna,â you warn sternly, trying to wipe off the black marking before it leaves a stain, but itâs too late. You sigh and look over your work.
âJust a quickie, câmon,â he insists with a grin.
âI donât want to be covered in black dye,â you retort and Sukuna groans, throwing his head back dramatically. âHow long do I gotta wait?â
âThirty minutes.â
He frowns, eyes following your movements as you pull off your gloves and throw them in the trash of your shared apartment. He canât for the life of him tear his eyes from you as you proceed to wash your hands before grabbing a damp towelette to wipe at his forehead.
Suddenly feeling like a child as you take care of the marking on his forehead, he swats at your hand.
âYouâre a menace,â you mutter, avoiding his hand with practiced precision as you wipe away any traces of hair dye from his face.
He smirks, he likes the way you tease him and if anything it only makes him want to bend you over the table more.
Still, when you pull back to inspect his face and leave a gentle peck on his lips, he knows you donât mind his attitude.
You know itâs all a ruse of sorts. Not around others, but around you it is.
Dating him for so many years came with its fair share of complications, especially given that Sukunaâs communication skills were about as good as those of a rock. He often didnât pick up on small signs that you were bothered by things and vice versa, as heâs a tough book to read.
Regardless of any small arguments, nothing ever got out of hand surprisingly. You canât imagine your life if Sukuna hadnât shown up to get you the night your ex kicked you out. What Sukuna lacked in the department of emotional understanding, he made up for with his actions.
Although he very rarely says it, you know Sukuna loves you.
Each and every âI love youâ is met with a kiss, a squeeze of your arm, a tug towards him.
Sukuna has his own way of showing you he loves you.
He picks you up from work with flowers, shocking those around you when the grumpy-looking tattooed man hands you flowers that surely wonât make it home in great condition on his bike, but it doesnât matter.
He runs you a bath when he fucks you into oblivion and your legs give out. It may be his own hand that inflicted your weakness, but it doesnât matter because he shows you just how much he cares for you through his aftercare routine.
He makes your coffee with far too much milk and sugar for his own taste and complains about it the whole time, but it doesnât matter because he still does it every morning for you.
Sukuna loves you, and he knows that youâre aware of it.
When it comes time to wash his hair, he closes his eyes when you help him wash it in the sink. Your fingers move so delicately, taking care to wash out all the dye.
When he dries his hair with a towel and sees the way you delight at the sight of his freshly jet-black hair, he chuckles.
âWhy do you never grow your hair out?â You ask, running your hands through his spiked hair. The color suits him and brings out his eyes in the most stunning way, youâre sure you have stars in your eyes from the way youâre staring at him.
âDunno. The other color looks good,â he shrugs.
âIt does!â You agree with a grin, âbut so does this!â You insist. âItâs hot.â
He hums, looking himself over in the mirror. In truth, he doesnât mind it. He only really indulged you because youâd insisted, but it worked out given what he had in mind for the night. It would look good in photos.
âWhen is Shiu getting here?â You ask curiously, interrupting Sukunaâs thoughts as your short arms wrap around his middle from behind.
âHour from now.â
You gasp suddenly. âI need to clean up.â
âI can clean you up,â Sukuna smirks, lifting his arms in an attempt to see your face from where you stand behind him.
âKunaaa,â you whine. âI need time to get ready.â
He groans dramatically. âFine,â he grumbles, watching as you prance away happily to get ready.
You, Sukuna, Choso, Toji, Shiu, and Uraume were all going out in celebration of Tojiâs newest addition to his family, a young boy. It was surprising that he was the first to settle down, but when youâd met his wife, you could see that she was his world, the way he relaxed at her touch and his own edge calmed in the same way Sukunaâs does around you.
Sukuna lays on his bed, watching as you choose a gorgeous black dress that hugs your curves so delectably that he wants to tear it off of you then and there. The whole time, he fumbles with something in his pocket, grateful when you donât notice the small box accidentally fall from his grasp and onto the bed.
You chat with him about your work the whole time. Sukunaâs mind is elsewhere but given that heâs never all that chatty, you donât notice. Looking yourself over in the mirror, you let out a relieved breath when you manage to be ready with only a couple of minutes to spare.
âYâ look gorgeous.â Sultry words are whispered in your ear, followed up by a kiss to your neck as your boyfriend comes up behind you. His hands rest softly on your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder, bending down to your height.
You watch his actions from the mirror, the way his lidded eyes look over the curves of your figure, the way he slides his arms so delicately around your middle to envelop you in a tight hug, itâs these moments that you treasure the most.
The quiet moments where you simply enjoy one anotherâs presence.
Your lives are so busy that you donât always get time to yourselves, so melting into his arms in that moment, you wish it would last forever.
Of course forever is a long time, and Shiu certainly doesnât have the patience to wait in his car that long for you both. Youâre not entirely sure why Sukuna doesnât want to take your bikes, but you donât push the subject. Your boyfriendâs mind is a mysterious place.
Your group gathers at a restaurant thatâs a bit fancy for everyoneâs tastes, but Uraume had insisted on it given the occasion. The real surprise was that Sukuna had dressed up a bit as well, sporting a sleek black pair of slacks, a black long sleeve button-up, and a red tie. His ensemble went well with your black dress.
Over the years, Sukunaâs friends had become your friends, long before you started dating, even.
Choso and Yuji were like your little brothers, and Uraume and Toji your closest drinking buddies. They got along surprisingly well with your friends too, especially Choso and Yuji who, unlike Sukuna, seemed to have a talent for getting along with everyone. Shiu generally only tagged along when Toji was around, but their banter was always welcome.
As Toji shows off photos of his son Megumi alongside his daughter Tsumiki, you notice Sukuna whispering something to Choso, casting oddly uneasy glances in your direction. Frowning, you glance over yourself once as though thereâs something wrong with your outfit. No⊠it looks fine. So whatâs Sukuna being so secretive about?
You brush it off as nothing, sure youâre overthinking things⊠until he pulls Toji aside after the man finishes showing off photos of his son.
You tilt your head quizzically to Uraume as you lean over towards them, ensuring Sukuna canât hear you.
âIs Kuna acting weird to you?â
âYes,â Uraume follows your gaze, narrowing their eyes. âPerhaps he misses Toji?â
âAre we talking about the same person?â A small smirk quirks up the corners of your lips.
Uraume laughs lightly with you. âYouâre right,â they agree, but the thought doesnât leave your mind.
Itâs not like Sukuna doesnât have off days like everyone else, but this is a strange change of demeanor for him. He seems strangely fidgety, as though he canât sit still. His leg had bounced under the table throughout most of dinner and he was strangely eager to get the bill.
He had been horny all day, the best guess you have is that maybe itâs that and he wants to get home.
Still, it doesnât explain him being so secretive throughout the night. In fact, heâd barely spoken a lick to you. Which isnât entirely uncommon, but in place of words he would normally find comfort in your touch. Yet tonight it felt as though youâd hardly seen him despite sitting next to him most of the night.
You resort to asking him about it later, though an uneasy feeling tugs at you the more you notice it.
Youâre almost grateful the dinner is over when it is as you intertwine your fingers with Sukuna like nothing is wrong. Shiu leads the way across the expanse of grass by the restaurant to his car one lot over, chatting with Toji as you and your boyfriend trail behind.
With Choso and Uraume a short distance behind you, you figure now is as good of a time to ask as any.
âIs everything alright, baby?â You tilt your head to look at your boyfriend.
Something glimmers in his eyes, an emotion you donât recognize. Thatâs odd.
ââCourse.â
Well, thatâs not reassuring.
âOkay⊠Nothingâs wrong?â
He shoots you a small smirk, kissing the top of your head.
âNothinâs wrong, princess. Donât worry your pretty little head.â
You sigh, unable to help the feeling that he has something up his sleeve, but also able to recognize that whatever heâs plotting, he clearly has no intention of telling you. Regardless, youâre relieved that his nonchalant attitude seems to have returned. Maybe itâs nothing to worry about after all.
You miss the way he glances between the two groups, nodding to both as you sigh and give in.
âAlright, Kuna. I love you.â
Sukuna stops to face you and you blink at him perplexedly. Time seems to stand still as his chest rises and falls so quickly, heâs sure you can hear his heart beating out of his chest as he fumbles in his pocket for a moment.
You open your mouth to question him but your words die on your tongue when your boyfriend swallows hard before making a quick movement down onto one knee and your eyes go wide, your heart pounding in tandem with his.
Itâs just the two of you in that moment, all sounds drowned out by beating hearts, lights and movement a blur behind you both. Everything is just Sukuna. Just you.
âY/n,â he begins hoarsely. His voice shakes slightly and he curses himself for it but he doesnât dare look away from your gorgeous wide eyes.
Your lips part, a lump forming in your throat. It feels as though it could choke you and you swallow hard but it only seems to encourage the tears you had yet to notice welling in your eyes.
âI had this whole speech planned,â he chuckles breathlessly. âPracticed nâ everything.â
You nod slowly, your hands trembling as you bring one up to your mouth to suppress your shock and awe when he pulls out a small red velvet box.
âBut I donât think that shit's for me. So I decided to keep it simple.â
Nestled delicately within the box is a gorgeous silver ring with a beautiful diamond held delicately in the center. The ring splits into three separate parts just before the gem that all twist with smaller jewels around the metal.
âMarry me?â
Although he very rarely says it, you know Sukuna loves you.
From the way he holds you to the way he listens and kisses you between words. From the way he brings you lunch at work when you forget to the way he drives more carefully when youâre cuddled behind him on his bike.
Sukuna loves you, and he knows that youâre aware of it.
And you love him too.
âYes!â
masterlist || husband!sukuna headcanons & more || husband!sukuna smut oneshot
a/n ; please follow/like/reblog/share if you enjoyed âĄ
#dividers by @/cafekitsune and @/adornedwithlight#starmapz works#starmapz oneshot#starmapz#oneshot#jjk oneshot#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#ryomen sukuna#sukuna#ryomen sukuna oneshot#sukuna oneshot#ryomen sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x y/n#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna fluff#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen oneshot#jjk smut#sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader smut
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New Post has been published on https://www.vividracing.com/blog/build-a-jeep-wrangler-tj-off-road-rig-for-under-4000/
Build A Jeep Wrangler TJ Off-Road Rig For Under $4,000!!
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KMC KM728 Lobo Wheels = $285 each
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Pro Cap V2 with metal base and removable logo
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5 & 6 lug applications
18mm Offset
Toyo Open Country R/T Trail Tires = $500 eachÂ
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Tuff Country 4âł Lift Kit EZ-Ride = $975
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POP THE HOOD F'ME
pairing. chris x reader genre. smut with plot. MDNI. word count [5.2k]
content; mechanic!chris, flirty!chris, smoking (they share a cig), sex with a stranger ig? semi public, car head (m recieving), face fucking, big dick chris, reader has an eyebrow piercing, use of pet names, dirty talk, swearing
Maybe it was just dumb luck.
My dad has been promising me that his old ford pickup was gonna be mine when I got my license since I was ten. However, not long after my sixteenth birthday, he randomly decided that his promise had conditions.
I had to fix it myself.
I had been putting off working on it for years. I just didn't have the time, and it needed a lot of work. The list of things to be fixed was long, and I knew if I started then, I wouldn't have finished.
Finally, the time presented itself for me to start. I finally had a summer that wasn't so busy, so I decided in May of this year I was finally going to do it.
I was finally going to get my own truck.
So I did; I worked on it for two long months. Two long months spent in the garage on my back under the heavy pickup with my hands covered in soot and oil whilst sweat dripped down my face. Two long months spent fixing the paint job and fiddling around under the hood, my hair tied back to keep it off my neck while the sun beamed through the opened garage door.
I finally felt confident enough to take it out for a test drive today. It was starting fine in the garage, and I'd driven it around the block a number of times without fail.
I excitedly hopped in the driver's seat and shut the heavy door, jamming my keys into the ignition and grinning at the sound of the roar when the engine started. I made it pretty much across town without a single problem, and I thought I was in the clear.
So, maybe it was just dumb luck when not even an hour later, here I am, standing on the side of the road next to said pickup with the hood popped and smoke coming out of the cabin.
Or maybe, just maybe, it was dumb luck when I realized I was only three blocks away from an auto shop, and a guy pulled over to help drag my car there.
It felt like forever when we finally reached the parking lot. The red and white sign that hung over the opened garage doors read 'sturniolo's auto-repair".
For the most part, the slots were empty, except for a 58' baby blue Impala that was suspended off the ground, and a brand new silver Subaru outback that sat right next to it.
As we finally pushed it into the open slot on the far end of the garage, I let out a sigh of relief, wiping the sweat off my forehead with one hand and letting them both rest at my sides.
I thanked the stranger for his assistance and he wished me luck, mumbling about how much a repair on a truck like this was going to cost before wandering off. I scowled at him as soon as he turned away from me.
Walking away from the smokey and damaged shell of a car, I pushed open the clear glass door into the entry-way of the shop, and the sound of the ringing bells that were carefully tied at the top of the door filled my ears.
Near the desk stood two boys, both were brunettes that roughly stood at the same height. The first was wearing a red toyota nascar cap backwards over his brown hair, as well as a black tank top and a navy blue mechanic's suit that hugged his frame. The name patch on the chest of it read "Matt". He was speaking to another customer, flailing the rag around as he emphasized his points with his hands.
The other was standing behind the counter, a gray bandana tied around his head. He wore a navy blue button up that he left completely open with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, making the white tank top he wore under it visible.
The name patch on his chest read "Chris", and a white rag was thrown over his shoulder. A plethora of keys were hooked to a red carabiner that hung around the belt loop of his jeans. The desk hid his lower half below his waistline, and as I stepped closer, I saw a toothpick in between his teeth and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he jotted down words on a yellow notepad with a pencil.
I slowly walked up to the desk, my arms at my sides. He didn't raise his head to look at me, he just continued writing, so I cleared my throat.
His head shot up, and his expression fell into embarrassment.
"Fuck- sorry, I didn't hear you come in. How long âv you been standing there?"
I laughed lightly and shook my head. "Not long, I just walked in."
A smile painted itself onto his face as he set the pencil down and put his hands in his pockets just far enough that his thumbs still stuck out. "What can i do for ya?" He asked kindly, the toothpick in his mouth moving as he spoke.
"My truck broke down three blocks ago and wouldn't start. I tried looking under the hood to see the problem, but it was smoking, so I pushed it here." I explained, my hands finding each other and clasping together at my front.
He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly. "Jesus, you wheeled it all the way here?" He asked, laughing breathily when I nodded my head in response. "Atta girl. What kind of truck is it?"
"A ford pickup," I responded all too quickly, my voice strained as I tried to ignore how my heart swelled in my chest from the impressed look on his face. He nodded as he opened the drawer next to him and pulled out a ballpoint pen, picking up the notepad once again to start writing. "What year and license plate?"
"85', boston plate, the number is 289 BTO. " I watched as he wrote mindlessly, the handwriting barely coherent.
"'M kay, I'll take a look at it for you." he said, setting the notepad and pen back down on the counter. He opened his palm, gesturing for my keys, and I dropped them into his grasp. He hooked the ring that held them together around his index finger.
"Wait here, should only be a couple minutes."
I nodded as he circled around to the end of the desk, walking past me and pushing open the door to the garage.
His absence gave me a chance to examine the decor of the office space. Family and baby portraits crowded on top of the counter below the window behind the desk. A mickey mouse clock sat above the side door, and a large OPEN sign hung in the window.
The wall was crowded with plates and signs. One that caught my eye was an eagle with its claws digging into a hanging mirror, the name HARLEY DAVIDSON displayed in bright orange letters above the eagle's head. Next to the register was a small bell with a sign that said "ring for service" and the words 'don't actually' were scribbled in sharpie above.
Just when I was getting lost in thought, I heard the door bells jingle a second time, and Chris walked back in. The rag was now hanging loosely in his palm as he approached the counter. He stood right next to me, reaching over for the notepad and throwing the rag back over his now bare shoulder, which is when I realized he had discarded his button up. My eyes dart down to see the keys to my truck now hanging on a different belt loop on his jeans.
"From what I can see," he starts, popping the cap of the pen off and leaving it in between his teeth as he spoke. "It looks like a coolant leak. The combination from the antifreeze leaking and the heat of the engine is enough to make it smoke, but it's not enough to cause the engine freeze up." he explains, his eyes meeting mine every couple of words to make sure i understand. "So, it could also be a fuel pump problem combined with the leak."
I nodded, chewing my lip nervously as he went on to explain the time the repair would take as well as the cost. When the words, "not finished until at least tomorrow" left his lips, I huffed in defeat, and tried to make my disappointment less evident as i crossed my arms in front of my chest.
"How long have you had it?" He asked, now leaning against the counter next to us with one elbow, crossing one foot over the other.
"I've only started to work on it this summer, but it's been my dads since before i was born."
He nodded. "It's a pretty ride," he confessed. "I honestly expected it to look worse when you said 85', but the conditions not bad. You been workin' on it a lot?"
"As much as I can." I shrugged.
He complimented the paint job, to which i confessed i'd done it, and he gushed. "Christ, you should work here. Matt can't paint to save his life. You could probably get him out of a job,"
Matt sent a glare his way. "Shut up, kid. Dad would fire you over me any day, especially if you keep sleeping in."
Chris laughed, a genuine sound that made Matt's glare turn into a small smile before he went back to rifling through the file cabinet.
He turned back to me, pausing to look back over the notes he'd written down. "If i had to guess, I'd say we can probably have it to you by tomorrow evening." he said, looking away from the paper and averting his gaze to instead look me right in the eye. "That work for you?"
I nodded slowly. Suddenly, the issue of a ride home became extremely apparent, and an anxious feeling started to blossom in my chest.
"Good. Just one more thing. . ." he pauses to take the pen cap out of his mouth and place it back on the pen, tapping it against the curve of his hand and grinning wildly at me.
"i'm gonna need your number to let you know when its finished."
He's just asking because he's supposed to; because he literally has to in order for me to get my car back. But regardless, i felt heat rise to my cheeks as i started shifting uncomfortably in place.
"Right," I said, moving to reach for the pen. He points to a blank part of the notepad, tapping lightly to tell me where to write it.
Quickly and shakily, i write out the numbers with dashes. I hand it back to him, and a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. He rips the sheet off the notepad in one swift motion and folds it in half, placing it in his back pocket.
He glances towards the clock. Its nearing seven. He turns back to me, "d'you have a ride home?"
My eyes went wide. I'm reminded of my attempt to call my dad three times when the truck initially broke down, and how my shoulders slumped in defeat at the sound of his voicemail playing repeatedly.
I glance back over to him, ". . . Not exactly. I'll probably just catch the bu-"
"I can drive you,"
I swallowed, my lips slightly parted in surprise. His grin was still wide, awaiting my response.
It was a sweet offer, really. But considering my house was across town, partnered with the fact that he was literally on the job, i shook my head. "That's really sweet, thank you, but I'm far. And you're working, anyway." He shrugs, glancing at the clock once more. "It's fine, Matt's on desk duty and he's closing tonight. I don't mind."
I chew my lip. I'd be stupid to pass up on a ride, but i barely know this kid, and if my dad sees me rolling up with him and no truck, it wouldn't look great.
And then I think about the hour long bus ride that would be in the near future if I declined.
I screw my eyes shut. "You know what? Why not."
Despite the scenario i was in, my mind was pushing out any and all nerves as I watched Chris collect his things from behind the desk. He pulled his wallet, shop keys and jacket out of a cubby.
The two of us walked back into the garage and over to Matt, who was washing his hands in a sink bellow the tool shelves.
Chris bid goodbye to his brother, who looked at the clock and then frowned, turning the faucet off and reaching for the roll of papers towels.
"You're seriously slacking off? I already covered for you and Nate leaving early last weekend." He complained, discarding the wad of paper towels he'd used to dry his hands into the trash bin below.
Chris shot him a look. "And then i covered your sunday morning shift because you were hungover. You owe me."
Matt rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just put your tools away when you open tomorrow. It drives me fucking insane when you leave them everywhere."
Chris salutes. "Roger that." He turned to me and winked, gesturing to follow him through the garage with a tilt of his head.
I followed behind him as he went out a different exit; this one leading to a parking lot on the back of the building. A large EMPLOYEE PARKING sign hung on the fence near the driveway.
He fiddled with the many keys on his carabiner before finally finding his and walking towards a car near the opening in the gate.
A blue, four-seater, convertible 65' mustang. The light from the setting sun literally reflected off of it. He mindlessly stuck the key into the passenger side door, twisting and pulling it open with a faint click.
He gestured his hand towards the seat playfully, "Ladies first."
I rolled my eyes, placing one foot on the floor of the car and ducking my head to sit down. "How gentlemanly of you,"
He grinned at me, closing the door and walking around the back of the car before popping into the driver's seat.
"This is.. wow." I mutter, admiring the small details and cleanliness of the car as he closed his door and threw his belongings in the back. "Jesus, this is yours?"
He smiled proudly, his tongue darting out to dampen his bottom lip. "All mine,"
His fingers twisted the key into the ignition and the roar of the engine made the car buzz against my feet. He rolled both of our windows down, the summer air blowing smoothly through the car.
His smile was wider and prouder than ever as he glanced into the rear view mirror, throwing an arm over the back of my seat to glance behind him as he reversed. We pulled out of the parking lot and turned left onto the main road, Chris letting the steering wheel slide back into place under his palm by itself once he'd done so.
"You said you were far," he mumbled. "What area are you in?"
The question pulled me back into reality. I'd gotten so distracted by the way he drove so carelessly, like he was completely relaxed and in control of everything movement the car made, like fear didn't even exist to him as he pressed harder onto the gas pedal with his foot, my eyes choosing to ignore the way the tic on the speed meter start to spike.
His jawline was illuminated in the dim light, and the toothpick that was still resting on his lips stayed moving as he spoke gently, waiting patiently for me to answer.
I started giving him directions, and he listened carefully and intently, glancing over to look at me to make sure he understood my instructions. Once we were on the freeway, he went even faster, lane switching if someone in front of him wasn't going as fast as he'd like them to.
Soft giggles left me as he did, basking in the view of his lips parted into a smile, showcasing pearly teeth between pink lips.
Once he pulled onto the off ramp and we were stopped at a red light, he turned to look at me again, the bright red turning the car a faint shade of crimson.
"What time do you need to be back?"
He asked with a tone of voice he hadn't used till now. The sudden lowness caught me off guard as I shrugged, "'Dunno, not for a while."
He hummed in acknowledgement. "You wanna stay on the road for a bit?"
I pull my knees up to my chest and let my head fall against the headrest, a careless smile on my face. "Definitely."
And we did; we ended up back on the highway pretty quickly, blasting music through a speaker Chris had propped against the dashboard.
His speed only got higher and higher as time went on, carelessly resting one hand on the wheel whilst the other gripped the gear shift. At some point, his hand had mindlessly traveled to rest on my upper bare thigh below the hem of my shorts, cold and partially ringed fingers pressing against my skin.
"Will you do me a favor?"
I raised my eyebrows and hummed in response. He gestured towards the glove box. "Theres a pack of camel blue 99s in the glove box, would you grab em for me?"
I bit my lip. "Depends, you sharing?"
"Duh."
I leaned forward, feeling my stomach flip when his hand didn't much as move an inch on my thigh, brushing against my lower stomach as I lurched forward to fiddle with the glovebox.
I propped it open and grabbed the pack and paused, "d'you have a light?"
He nodded. "Should be one in there."
I learned more forward and reached farther back, glancing around before locking my eyes on a silver flip top lighter and grabbing it. Once i lean back up, Chris is pulling into an empty lot. His hand leaves my leg to push the gear into park, and i try not to frown.
I flick the top of the cig carton open and hastily pull one out, dropping it into Chris's palm.
He places it hazardly between his lips and turns to face me, silently asking for me to light it.
I pop the lid of the zippo open and hold the flam to the end of his cig, waiting to pull away until his expression signifies that its lit enough. His expression relaxes as he breathes in before pulling it away from his mouth with two fingers and exhaling, the smoke filling the car.
"If I'm honest, I prefer marlboro reds." I say quietly in an attempt to break the silence, watching Chris flick the ash out the window lazily with his thumb and index finger. He shakes his head. "Camels are undeniably better."
I laugh lightly and raise my eyebrows in amusement. "No accounting for taste, I suppose."
He takes another drag before holding it in between his fingers in front of my face, and Instead of reaching for it, I place my lips around the filter while it's still in his hand. Our eyes lock while I breath in sharper, the cool feel of the smoke filling my chest.
He licks his lips, and for a moment, his eyes dart down to look at mine, and he's starts he's studying my face. I'm doing the same.
His eyes are bright blue, surrounded by thick lashes, which are barely visible with stray pieces of his hair hanging down below the bandana on his head. Freckles lightly paint his noise, and his pink lips are slightly parted as his eyes scan my face.
"I like your piercing," he finally says, pressing his one hand to his eyebrow as if he had one himself. I breathe out the smoke i'd been holding in my lungs and smile at him. He's still looking at it as he speaks again, "Did it hurt?"
I shrug. "Not really," Because it didn't, but also because I'd feel like an idiot saying it did. "Just a pinch."
He nodded slowly. "Hm."
I take another hit from the cig which he's still holding up to my lips. Our faces are closer now. One of my elbows is resting on the center console as I look at him through my lashes.
"You should get one." I say.
He laughs, breathy and genuine. "Yeah? You think so?"
"Mhm," i reach my hand up to graze above his eye with two fingers. "It would look good on you." He watches my movements. "We'd match, too."
He digs his teeth into his bottom lip, finally moving the cig back to his own lips and taking one more long drag before carelessly discarding it out the window.
All too quick, he's facing me again, and he leans even closer. I can feel the warmth of his breath on my face. My heart is thumping loudly in my chest, and a part of me thinks he can hear it.
Before I can even blink, he places his fingers on my chin and tilts his head, smashing his lips against mine hard.
Its all teeth at first, clashing messily as his hand leaves my chin and rests as the base of my neck. My hands are on his face, my fingers messing with the curls at the back of his neck while he grins against my lips.
He lightly bites my bottom lip, taking the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth. He tastes like cherry and camels, and I feel myself whimpering at the contact.
"Fuck," he mumbles into my mouth, and his tone is exasperated, partly because the console between us is making it harder for him to kiss me like he wants to, and partly because his attempts to pull me close enough for our chests to press together have been unsuccessful.
His hands reach down to tug at the belt loops of my shorts, trying to pull me onto his lap. I pull away for a second to push myself over the console, Chris's grip on my hips staying firm to assist me. I duck to avoid hitting my head on the roof of the car, and Chris giggles lowly.
I finally relax once I'm comfortable in his lap, straddling his legs below me. One of his hands is across my lower half, sliding his hand into my back pocket, and the other rests in the middle of my back, holding me in place.
We're kissing again, and this time it's more lips and tongue then teeth, but he's still lightly tugging at my lip.
I'm tugging at his hair as I push myself closer to his lower abdomen, pressing down, which elicits a groan from him. He pulls away from me, and I try to follow his lips with a whine, but he tugs at the back of my hair lightly so he can press kisses from my jaw down to my neck.
I'm already whimpering as soon as his teeth press against my throat, and he digs them deep, kissing the mark once he's satisfied with the shade of purple its turned before finding a different spot to do the same thing.
"Chris, fuck- please."
I can feel him below me, and it's making me crazy. He doesn't budge, even as I continue to whine breathlessly at him.
He only grins as he continues to nip at my skin, and i felt the smirk on his face against my throat. I tangle my fingers in his hair and tug as a silent plea. "What s' it, baby?"
Baby.
I practically keen at the nickname. He finally pulls away, a string of saliva connecting his lips to his previous spot on my neck. He grins proudly at the marks he's left before looking at me again.
"What d'you want?" his tone is cocky and assertive. His lips look red and bitten, and I start to feel embarrassed at the fact that we were sucking face so lewdly in a literal parking lot.
I want to squirm and writhe away under his gaze, but his knuckle tight grip on me won't let me. I fiddle with the neck of his shirt and avoid looking at him as i whisper, "I need you."
He grins madly. "How d'you need me, sweetheart?"
I lean forward and press my lips back against his, and he entertains for a little before tugging my hair lightly to pull me back. His fingers grip my chin, holding me in place to look at him.
"Tell me what you want."
I brush my hand against his belt buckle. "I wanna suck you off,"
It came out in a mumble, but he understood, nodding somewhat cockily with a shit-eating grin on his lips. A groan left him as he tugged me even closer so our chests were pressed together. "Yeah?"
I nod eagerly, another 'please' ready to escape my mouth as my impatience grows. He ducks his hand between the seat and the door to push it farther back, "On your knees, then."
I obliged immediately, sliding off his lap to rest on my knees below him. My elbows rest on either side of his legs as my hands flew to his belt, unbuckling it and tugging at his jeans and boxers.
He lifted his hips lightly to assist me. I pulled them down until they rested around his ankles, and I feel myself gawk.
He's big. Bigger then I expected.
A nervous feeling bubbles in the pit of my stomach, but the way he's looking down at me through hazy vision makes it vanish even quicker, and I wrap my hands around his length.
"You okay?" He asks, moving his hand to rest on my cheek, his thumb soothingly pressed on my temple.
"No- yeah, i'm good." I breathe. I hover myself over him, finally taking him into my mouth. A string of curses leave him in a hushed breath, and his head moves to rest at the back of my head to coax me farther down.
I pull back slightly, wrapping my lips around his tip and sucking lightly. His chest is rising and falling quickly above me, and his labored breathing is music to my ears.
His cock is heavy on my tongue, and its addicting. I take him farther down my throat, hollowing my cheeks to fit as much of him as i can while my hand is in a fist around his base. I bob my head and twist my hand, looking up at him to see his flushed face as he pants.
"Fuck, you look so pretty like this." He babbles, a throaty moan leaving him when I twist my hand faster, swirling my tongue along his cock as my head rises and falls.
I hum around his dick at the compliment, the slight sting on my scalp from him pulling my hair only pushing me to do more. He pushes me down slightly, and i choke at the burn of his tip making contact with my uvula.
I moan loudly on him at the feeling, tears building in my eyes as the vibration from the noises i'm making cause him to throw his head back, a blissed out expression on his face. "Fuck, so good. Just like that, god."
Drool seeps from the corners of my mouth as I speed up all my movements. Chris is a breathy, moaning mess above me, watching me through lidded eyes as I glance up at him.
He moves his other hand to rest on the side of my face, grinning at my fucked out appearance. "Fucking filthy girl, aren't you, baby." He says through gritted teeth. "You love this, don't you?"
I whine at him, furrowing my eyebrows in pleasure to say "yes', and watching as his eyes roll lightly back in his head when i start to suck lightly at his tip again.
My hand falls from his base to lay on his leg, the other holding the bottom of his shirt in my fist. I try to push my head farther down, whimpering faintly at the stretch.
Chris's hips jerk up lightly at the sensation, causing him to push himself down my throat until my lips hit the base. I start to choke, but I breathe heavily through my nose, screwing my eyes shut and hallowing my cheeks out to stop myself from pulling off.
"Fuck!" he grunts loudly, his grip on my hair turning animalistic. He mindlessly mutters out curses and praise as he pushes my head up and down with his hands, 'good girl', 'don't stop', 'takin' me so good, baby' 'just like that' . . .
My hands are resting completely at his sides as he guides my mouth on his cock, slightly bucking his hips to push himself as far as I can take him. His strokes turn sloppy, and I look up at him again to see him looking at me with a broken glance, bottom lip between his teeth. "Fuck, gonna cum," he gasps.
I begin to swirl my tongue around him, moaning messily on him as if to say, 'in my mouth, please', but he's already reading my mind, digging his nails into my scalp as he spurts coats of white down my throat, an incoherent string of "fuck fuck fuck"'s spilling out of him. Im swallowing as quickly as i can.
I pull off of him with a lewd pop, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I know i look completely ruined, but I'm still focused on catching my breath and looking at Chris's flushed pink face above me.
His hand rests on my face again, and his thumb soothingly rubs my cheek. "You okay? Was that too much?" he asks, his expression full of concern as he wipes the tears from under my eyes.
I smile, leaning into his touch. "I'm good, it was really good."
He nods, smiling dumbly. "Good."
He pulls his jeans and boxers back up, bucking his belt before pulling me off my knees and back onto his lap. He presses a soft, passionate kiss on my lips, and then trails kisses down the side of my face, pulling my hair back off my shoulders as we both catch our breath.
We're both startled by the loud ringing of my phone in the passenger seat. I reach over the console, sighing in relief when i flip it over and see my dad's name at the top of my screen.
I put the phone up to my ear, watching as Chris rubs circles into my side with his cold fingers.
"Hi," I breath out. I listen as my dad apologizes for not answering earlier. He tells me he heard my voicemail and asks if I'm okay. "M' fine, I just wheeled it to a shop a couple blocks over. I'm on the bus home now, should only be a bit."
Chris pouts at me, and i roll my eyes at him. My dad talks for a couple for seconds before hanging up, and i leave my phone in the drink compartment next to Chris's forgotten lighter.
"D'you need to get home?" He asked. I nodded, and he frowns. "I was gonna get you off in the backseat,"
part two? :)
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Preview: On the Horizon
Summary: You've been pining over your coworker for a while now. He might not have realized but someone has.
Paring: Tyler Owens x F!Reader (with minor Scott x F!Reader)
Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Angst, smut, flirting and asshole!Scott A/N: Thanks to @writercole for the summary. Hoping to have this fic out next weekend!
You brush the sweat from your brow as you surreptitiously watch Scott work beside you. He doesn't seem bothered by the heat, typing away on his computer despite the stagnant air. It makes you long for the cool labs you used to work in before Javi recruited you. Although he'd likely tell you this weather was perfect for a storm, you're miserable. Meteorology wasn't even your field; you were here for your engineering expertise to handle the specialized equipment the team needed to gather their data.
From your vantage point on the tailgate of the truck, you observe the other storm chasers gather around Tyler Owens' red truck. The man in question emerges with a brilliant smile, and beside you, Scott scoffs, annoyed. He hates Tyler, and you're pretty sure the feeling is mutual from the brief interactions you've observed.
"Ass," Scott mutters, returning his attention to his computer.
When you look up again Tyler's gaze falls on you. He grins and winks, pulling down the brim of his hat in acknowledgment. Before you can react, he's turned to speak to one of the young women on his team, giving her his full attention. A hand rests casually on her shoulder.
You wish Scott would acknowledge you like that. You thought things would be different after the night you shared weeks ago, but he'd been quick to dash those hopes the next morning, ignoring you completely. He only seemed to look at you when he needed your tech skills or when you made a mistake. Your cheeks still burn from his last reprimand in front of the team.
Clearing your throat, his eyes briefly land on you before returning to the screen in front of him. "What?" he demands.
"Oh. I was going to get something to eat. Do you want something?â
"Yeah, you know what I like," he says dismissively. When it's clear that's all you're getting from him, you push off the truck onto the dusty road with a soft exhale and head into the gas station.
The air conditioning inside practically makes you groan with relief, and you take a moment to appreciate the cool air.
"You're not melting on us, are you, city girl?" You jump at the unexpected voice, surprised to see it belongs to Tyler. "MIT got you all wound up, huh?â He questions, amused.Â
"What?"
"Your boss," he clarifies.Â
"Oh, he's um... he's not my boss. Javi is."
"No?" he questions, brows raised. "Well, he certainly barks at you like he is."
Heat rushes to your face as you realize Tyler must have overheard Scott reprimand you yesterday after you miscalibrated one of the sensors.
"If you worked with my team, I'd be a lot nicer," he says.
You stare at him, unsure how to respond to his comment or the flirty tone. Before today youâd hardly spoken, he mostly interacted with Javi or Scott. Youâre saved from answering when the bell on the door jingles and someone calls your name.Â
Itâs Scott.Â
"Owens," he bites out, surprising you when he rests a hand on your shoulder and stands close enough that you feel his shirt brush your arm. Your lips part and your lashes flutter in response.Â
Tyler's gaze drops briefly to your mouth before returning to your face with a knowing smile. "Well, I enjoyed our chat," he tells you, not bothering to acknowledge Scott. "We should do this again, sweetheart."
"What did he want?" Scott demands, move to stand in front of you after Tylerâs gone.
"Oh, nothing. Just... saying hi."
Scott's jaw tenses, and he steps into your space, cupping your elbow. "You shouldn't talk to him," he advises.
When he tilts his head to stare down at you, something flickers in his dark brown eyes that looks an awful lot like jealousy. You glance over your shoulder at Tyler, only to have Scott say your name again, more forcefully. When you turn back around your suspicions are confirmed. For the first time since that night in the hotel room, you have Scottâs full attention and that sends a thrill of excitement through you.
You bite your lip, the beginning of an idea coming together.
Part 1 is now out!
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