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#the social anxiety was popping out
pearlcaddy · 1 year
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CBS Ghosts 2.10
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gothoffspring · 4 months
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why do I feel embarrassed when I like or rb someone's post who isn't following me... Like is this okay????? Do u want me here? Can I be here? 😭😭😭😭😭
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artofkhaos404 · 9 months
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Now that I've looped You Are Who You Hang Out With a couple times, I have realized that I very much neglected "Batman." Using a superhero hiding his identity to illustrate what it's like to feel as an infection to those you love, especially your friends, is a brilliant analogy I'm sure many of us can relate to. Brian's ability to turn unrelated concepts and pictures and characters into a symphony of meaning is inspiring to me. It always has me asking "what do all these things have in common?" and looping the songs until it finally hits me. This has become one of my favorite tracks on the Front Bottoms discography very quickly.
Back to the meaning of the song... I'm an extrovert, and my depression has begun to take my enjoyment of social interaction from me. It's a dark place when the thing that gives you energy and has made you feel alive all these years becomes an anxiety ridden task and people don't talk about it enough. It's hardest when you love your friends and you want to see them, but the voices try to convince you that they don't love you. They'll try to convince you that you're a poison to them. That they have forgotten you. That they didn't want you here to begin with, you were invited out of pity, and you should leave. Permanently.
If you feel this way, know you're not alone, and don't feel guilt for it. These feelings don't mean you hate your friends. They don't mean you need to isolate yourself to the point of dying of loneliness and live with your battery on empty. All it means is you are struggling. Things are hard for you... and you should surround yourself with people who will be understanding of that and help you fight it. People who reassure you that they love you. People who tell you how they feel about you often and in detail.
"Sure, I make plans. I make plans because I should want to go. I make plans because sometime I would have wanted to go, it's just not much fun having fun when you don't want to have fun, mom."
-Sabrina Benaim
(Explaining My Depression to My Mother)
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nikawiy · 3 months
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i've had words i was told on repeat on my mind abt how someone likes i write side characters just giving me giddy feelings. i've been seriously struggling mentally bc my health has been getting worse as well as i mask that it's not that bad and just . . . happy
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Are you ok?!
CUTE PPL ARE TRYING TO DATE/FUCK ME AND I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO RESPOND
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makasdisaster · 2 years
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my dreams are literally bulling me for not getting a funko i saw at the mall, it’s been 3 days
it was too packed in hot topic and i have social anxiety what do you want from me😭 
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mo0nchhild · 2 years
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today i bought stress balls and now i feel a little bit more prepared for stressful and anxiety inducing situations (and honestly also just to squish them once in a while for no reason)
ok but one of them is basically a plush cat with a stress ball inside and when you squish it the clear ball comes out of its mouth and there's little star confetti inside that just erupts and dances around and it's soo pretty and calming to look at i love it
the second one is plain blue with some sort of shaving cream (? i don't really know actually) inside and i think for now this one feels the nicest
i also went with the safe choice of a classic stress ball with orbeez inside and i'm so exciited bc this whole year of school i've been wanting one (i mean school's almost over for the summer anyway, but better late than never lol)
i'm gonna take them all to therapy tomorrow and see if they're any good, that way i can finally leave my poor little gingerbread man lego key chain on my backpack alone slkghslkdhgkl
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kittykatinabag · 8 months
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While I greatly enjoy the subject of place making in urban design, I utterly hate the amount of pandering to capital holders a lot (if not most) of current "place making professionals" do in their work.
#also really hate some of the current trends of 'pop up events' that run for maybe a month and then never again#'its to get peoples imaginations going kristen!' until you realize that you dont actually leave any reliable framework when its done#and theres an inherent bias against creating those frameworks because that requires decentralization of your knowledge#which makes you and your work finacially threatened and even as a nonprofit you still need to make a living#idk im just pondering webs of power and the paradoxes of creating a better world using capitalism instead of dismantling it#also avoiding doing the newest academia bs and trying to avoid any fucking grades talk with the people i know here#because i havent told them that i havent turned anything in yet because depressions been kicking my ass#and they dont get the executive dysfunction part of it because their anxiety is so out of control that it still forces them to do things#and their reward circuits in their brains still work while mine dont anymore#and while they might have sympathy all theyre going to do is suggest solutions which is not what i need rn#also the solutions they will probably give probably wont work because ive tried pretty much off of them except cocaine#and im trying to avoid doing that for obvious reasons#i already know what i need is to 1- live alone; 2- live in a place with more amenities nearby; and 3- have an understanding support system#the problem is money. and circumstances. and having a support system. but mostly money and circumstances#the thing i cant figure out quite yet is why im avoiding telling them instead of just laying it out there#maybe cause it would seem like im putting part of this burden on them?#maybe something in my instincts and years of social observation is telling me that if i tell them their view of me will drastically change?#and then there goes whatever scraps of a support system i have out here#idk its probably just trauma leaking again#late night ramblings
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gorejo · 9 months
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▸ A SOUVENIR FOR THE MORNING - GOJO SATORU. - forbes gojo!au
synopsis: you’ve avoided him for the last eight years, only for him to pop back into your life, leaving you with no room to run away as he asks you to kiss him. catch is, he now has a golden ring on his promise finger.
content: 9.2k words (idk how this happened, and it's unedited bc it's too long to go through) afab!reader, she/her pronouns, cursing, explicit smut, light angst, mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex, fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, and anxiety triggers (picking at nails), pet names (baby, sweetheart, love, angel, good girl). minors do not interact.
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The room is packed with people when you walk in. It was hard to recall some faces from the mirage of dimmed lights making you feel mildly dizzy and it didn’t help how the buzzing in your head from the smell of champagne and the loud chatter from the already drunk almost thirty-year-olds that can’t seem to contain their liquor-like novices, made you want to go home increasingly more.
“It’s only 9:41, and they’re drinking like they’ve never tasted alcohol before,” you heard Shoko mumble as she searched through her purse to reach for her perfume, “you want some?” Your best friend offered with a smile as she looked at you through the bathroom mirror. 
“I’m okay,” you smiled back, “can’t have all the boys following me around with that,” you teased.
Shaking her head in disapproval, “If you see me go home with any of these drunks, I give you full permission to hit me, no, in fact, I’ll pull up to your apartment every morning with coffee and take you to work for a week if I do,” Shoko shuddered while furrowing her brows only to quickly soften the moment she saw you lightly picking at your thumb – an anxious habit you’ve picked up throughout the years, only but the keenest of eyes being able to notice your anxiety.
“You okay love?” Her voice was sweet as she leaned against the restroom sink.
“Mhm, of course,” you faked a smile, “I guess I’m just a little nervous seeing everyone, you know,” lightly chuckling as you bit your lips. Little was underlying, when the knot in your stomach was building up, making you force down the urge to entirely vomit in the moment. 
“People are thrilled to see you again,” placing her hand on your shoulder, “it’s literally been years for you,” she huffed, pouting as she reminisced over the years she attended alone.  
“well ‘m sure one will be sure thrilled —” her voice suddenly drained from a crowd of people entering the restroom, slightly pushing you towards her, “nevermind come on, let’s go get something to drink,” Shoko muttered as she led you out, gently massaging your tense neck as she encouraged, bringing her lips to your ears, “if anyone bites, I’ll chop their dick off,” Shoko threatened with a flashing smile as she led you to a nearby table.  
It’s only 9:41 — no, 9:42.
College reunions, who looks forward to that? 
There was no particular reason for you to be anxious, it’s been years since. You’ve prepared yourself for this, meditating every single day since you got the notification in your email on a Tuesday evening — an invite to rsvp for a room at the Aman Hotel. 
Maybe it wouldn’t have been so nerve-wracking if you’ve been consistently going out to these every year since they’ve held one. But every year there seems to be a conflict in the schedule that forbade you to go.
One year it was your boss last-minute asking your team to work overtime, when a rookie employee lost all the data when he supposedly fell asleep, accidentally losing months of all your blood, sweat, and tears to make it for the deadline on your next advertising project. 
Poor kid was fired the next day.
The following year, you were determined to go, going as far as walking to the restaurant, when the sudden nausea of socializing plagued your mind. The joyous welcomings and celebrations annoyingly muffled in your ear as you groaned past a familiar voice that seemed to call out your name from a distance. Your feet walking on their own volition through your sleep deprivation. Only to wake up in your bed with countless text messages from your best friend asking what the hell happened. 
No wonder it was so fucking loud that night. 
Another was simple, not your fault this time. Shoko couldn’t make it because of her rounds at the hospital. 
Never in hell were you going to show up alone. 
And the last one, well your taxi got a sudden flat tire. That in itself was a confirmation for you not to go, nor did you have any dying wish to go. Quickly texting your best friend, huffing out a sigh of relief as you pressed send.
&lt;< sorry… can’t make it tonight. I promise, next year!! 
Today, well things seemed to have aligned. No overtime, no flat tires, no sleep deprivation, no nothing.
Maybe it was an excuse? 
Maybe you were subconsciously avoiding it? 
But ironic is it, that life seems to protect you when most fragile, only to push you out into the void when least expected making you feel even more vulnerable, feeling so exposed in such a cruel world. 
Or maybe the universe was waiting for this moment, that despite your consensus or approval, it was determined that you were ready to confront it — well it, being the owner of a pair of brilliant light blue eyes that sparkled like an aqua jewel, shining brighter than when you’ve last seen them clouded in tears as you let go of his trembling hand for the last time, crushing his pure heart as you left him with, “i’m sorry.”
Was that already eight years ago? 
But whether it was the consequence of your selfish choice or a blessing of choosing to be selfless, luck was on your side today…
… well, you hoped at least somewhat on your side.
“My … look who it is,” you heard a voice from behind you.
Turning around, though the shame of suddenly cutting him off enticed your heart as you faced him, you couldn’t help but smile at his familiar face walking over with two drinks in his hand.
Holding the same gentle eye smile, with a lock of his black hair falling down on his left side, donned in a white dress shirt with his sleeves cuffed at the elbows, no tie but buttons loosely opened with a pair of dark slacks and shined dress shoes. Geto Suguru walked over.
“Aren’t you still handsome,” you complimented with a sweet smile.
“Don’t feed into his ego like that,” Shoko chimed as she nudged your arm, “his head is already big enough.”
“Who me?” Exaggerating his response, only to soon level down to the same amiable smile, calm cadence you’ve remembered him to have as he offered you a drink, “I have to take all the compliment I can get, don’t know when you’ll go awol and go missing for another eight years.”
“Funny…” you muttered, rolling your eyes while taking the drink by the stem, “and thank you, Suguru.”
“Where’s mine?” Shoko jabbed while shooting a glare at his nonchalance.
“Not here,” Geto flashed a smile, innocently shrugging. 
“Whatever, I’ll get my own,” shaking her head in disapproval, grumbling while making her way to get a drink, but still making a point to stop in front of the man to warn, “Don’t say anything weird Suguru, I barely got her to come today.”
“Relax, ‘m just trying to catch up with an old friend,” Geto countered, making a point to whisper while smiling at you.
“I won't hurt her, that I promise,” Geto affirmed. 
Your best friend walked off only to turn around for a brief moment as she worriedly looked back at you “Text me for anything okay?” 
“I’ll be fine! Don’t worry,” you reassured.
“And don’t forget what I said, I’ll even cut his,” deadpanning while looking at your male counterpart, “I got no problem doing it, I’m medically certified anyways, there’s nothing that a sharp scalpel can’t fix, ” Shoko stated with an innocent smile while walking off. 
“So,” releasing a sigh as he pushed the strains of his hair back, “how’ve you been?” Geto smiled.
“I’ve been… okay,” you confessed while placing your lips against your glass before taking a sip, “could be better.”
“Thought you were living your life,” Geto teased, his voice laced with sarcasm, “Shoko wouldn’t tell us much about you.”
“I… I told her not to,” you confessed while leaning against your table, the pain of your heels starting to ache up your back. 
“How come? Weren’t we your friends too?” 
“I just didn’t think it was best to keep myself in the circle when I —” biting the inside of your mouth to stuff the suffocating knot forming underneath your lungs.
“ — When you broke up with him?” Geto finished your hesitation.
Nodding yes, you softly whispered, “I thought it was for the best for him.”
“For the best huh?” Geto chuckled, “well I guess you didn’t know him too well then.”
“What do you mean?” Your brows furrowed as your mouth started to feel dry, “I did it because we weren’t compatible, I would’ve been a stumbling block for him,” you stammered as your voice started to shake, “I- I would’ve halted his growth, and he would’ve hated me in the end if I selfishly held onto him when he was worth so much more than being with me,” you confessed with lips quivering as a tear fell, only to quickly brush it away before Suguru could notice.
But nothing passes with him, he reads right through you. His voice softened, “Was this your insecurity you’ve decided for him or — ” turning his body to face you while his body leaned on his arm against the standing table, “Was this something he actually would’ve struggled with?”
“I can’t change the past Suguru.” You shamefully avoided his gaze, “I still stand by my decision.”
“I don’t doubt that,” shrugging as he exhaled, “I mean, you did avoid him for almost a decade.”
“H-he seems happy,” you let your thoughts slip.
“You think so?” 
“Shoko would tell me about everyone, you, him” you unnoticingly spewed out your thoughts. “Of course not in full detail, but that you’ve established your own studio, and that you’ve finally released those photos.”
“Mhm, that’s correct, would’ve loved to have invited you to the exhibition, it was quite… a moment,” he chuckled while playing with his fingers. 
“That Megumi’s in high school and that he’s gotten in trouble for beating up the school bullies,” lowly laughing as you remembered how cute yet scarily mature he was for his age.
“Nanami hates corporate life, but still listens to what he has to say even if it’s outrageous.” Taking a sip of your drink, the sparkle of the beverage mildly burning your throat, “... and that he’s traveling the world living his life.”
Mumbling under your breath, “he’s even recently gone to Paris and had a night picnic with —”
“You stalked him?” Geto teased as he huffed out a laugh when he caught your shocked expression
“No — I mean, Shoko would tell me,” you stammered.
“Sure, whatever you say, sweetheart," Geto teased, "but just to let you know, he just got back. And from what I know, they haven’t met since he arrived. His plane should’ve landed,” while dramatically looking at his watch, “I don’t know like an hour ago? He’s probably on his way over here,” Geto handsomely winked as he suddenly placed a gentle hold of your waist and brought you near his side.
“You know… he’ll look for you, now knowing that you’re here” Geto whispered into your ear.
“How does he know… I told Shoko to not tell —”
Blinking innocently at you with a smile, while playing with his phone, “can’t avoid the poor guy forever.”
“I’m not avoiding him,” you sighed knowing what Geto had done, “just didn’t have a chance to run into him.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” releasing you with a smile, “ if you’re really sure about where you stand, then don’t run away from him.”
Geto's eyes flash to the entrance doors for a split second and land back on you.
“But would you look at that,” humming as he pointed to his empty glass yet his eyes caught sight of a familiar figure. It was the first in a while that you felt your heart sinking, all the blood in your body rushing out, making you suddenly feel lifeless and queasy.
“Gonna get another glass, you want one?” Suguru suggested.
“I’m okay, but thank you Suguru,” you quickly stated as your heart started to beat faster by the second.
“Sure, just don’t be a stranger again,” Suguru teased as he started to walk off, but your hand immediately reached out to catch his arm to quickly reinforce, “I- I mean it… thank you.”
Knowing your implication, smiling as he received your thanks, “No need, as fucking cringe it is,” chuckling as he shook his head, looking over your shoulder and back at you, “he’s my best friend, of course, I’ll be there for him.”
Letting go of his arm, your hands anxiously balled into a fist as you quickly turned around to avoid him, doing anything to hide from his sight. You felt your breaths becoming increasingly more difficult to inhale, and stagnant as your palms started to sweat. 
“I’m not avoiding him… I’m not avoiding him” you quietly mumbled to yourself, your words contradicting your actions as you walked further away onto the balcony, texting Shoko, 
<< I’ll be outside getting some fresh air (: let me know when you want to leave.  
Closing your phone, as you let the night breeze wash against your face, leaving light chills around your body, you nervously sighed, “It’s been eight years you say…”
— 
Your story was nothing short of the typical — difference in class and status, trying to make things work just for the convenience of love. It wasn’t hard at first to situate yourself into his life, nor was it any difficult for him to become accustomed to yours. 
They say time will change things, circumstances will get better. Be patient with your season, and you’ll be rewarded for your hardwork.
But somethings never change no matter how hard you try to alter the dice. He’s rich and you’re just average.
Money works for him, while you had to take on multiple jobs just to make your next rent at the start of your career. 
He was bound for greatness at a young age, trained by the best professionals and tutored by an exquisite league of mentors. While you had to settle for things, simply dreaming of the what can be. Thus, you worked even harder. You pushed yourself to keep up, to become of the level of who he’s supposed to be, and what he could accomplish. 
When he dozed off in class, you stayed up. You studied, pulled all-nighters, chugged caffeine, and oftentimes had to push back dates with him for simple study sessions — he didn’t complain, said he liked to just sleep with his head rested on your lap while he cuddled into your stomach while you studied. 
“Don’t mind me, I’ll be your personal radiator,” he would chime with a boyish grin on his face, taking off his sunglasses as he stretched his long legs before latching behind you like a koala, “wake me up when you’re done, I’ll drive you home,” Gojo peacefully murmured without forgetting to place a kiss to your shoulder, while you stressed over your next exam. 
With him, even the coldest days always felt warm.
And on the next day, he’ll always take you to class with some soup and hot tea, murmuring about your poor dietary choices and how you often neglect your health to study. But at least he’ll be gentle, and wish you the best on your exam with a light kiss — an innocent kiss that lasts a bit too long, his hand always gracing your body as he reluctantly releases you, brushing off the saliva that linked your lips together — his good luck charm he’ll argue, a little tease of what he’ll reward you with later when you got home for being his good girl. 
Gojo will always try to convince, “Life isn’t always about studying, baby,” stating with a pout, after your fifth time canceling a date he’s planned to instead go on a simple walk outside your flat, “you gotta live life to the fullest! And why stress when you’ve snatched me?”
“Well, I can’t live life to the fullest if I don’t study now, Satoru. And who’s gonna pay for all that ice cream you eat? All the sweets you stock up on?”
“What do you mean?” Deadpanning as he stopped in his tracks, “you have me, what more else do you need? I'm a double threat — I’m rich and handsome.”
“Satoru — I… never mind,” rolling your eyes, as you were hit with his puppy eyes. 
“Just promise,” his tall frame blocking you, “that you’ll always stick with me.”
“I’m not a piece of gum to just stick onto you, Satoru,” pushing him away, only for him to reach out to delicately hold your hand, “You know, if you’re a gum, you’ll be the sweetest one.”
“Yea, why so?”
“Because every time I eat you, you taste so sweet,” he teased with a flirty wink, “if you get what I — ow!” 
Rubbing his forearm that barely hurt, Gojo loved to exaggerate when he was with you. 
For Gojo, things came easily for him, as if the universe highlighted his life as a thousand-year blessing, nothing was out of his reach — that is, nothing but you. 
Shocking to many, he pursued you first. When asked about how you guys met, or what’s the story behind you two, or even if no soul asked… he’ll blabber on with an outrageous story, saying he fell in love the moment he laid his eyes on you, that you were the apple of his eye — an over the top fanfiction of you and him of how he just knew you were the person for him when you stumbled into the library, arms full of books and coffee in the other, and you magically just happened to just bump into him. And if it wasn’t for that encounter, then he would’ve never gotten your number. 
And without your number, he wouldn’t have been able to woo you with his charm, he’ll always add with a wink.
“You can say it’s fate,” he’ll proclaim, “I never went to the library, you know,” as he munched on his icecream with Megumi and Tsumiki savoring theirs, both unbothered by the story he’s told them countless times, “and the one day I chose to follow Suguru because he was simping over someone, I get coffee spilled all over my clothes and meet her? Damn, the heavens just wanted us together.”
All you remember of that day was that your precious coffee went to waste, with your books embarrassingly spread out on the floor, and you were stuck having to dry clean his ridiculously expensive clothes. 
But with him, you experienced all your firsts.
Your first handholding — Satoru confidently took your hand, immediately interlocking his fingers with yours, his palms engulfing yours entirely, “don’t be scared baby, I’m not scared,” flexing his muscles as he proudly smiled,  “I’ll protect you!” as he leads you through the haunted mansion, jolting through every jump scare, absolutely refusing to scream. 
You remember his palms felt particularly clammy that day. 
Your first kiss — on a spring picnic as he laid on your lap, his eyes sparkling a little more than usual as he looked up at you, innocently asking, “can I kiss you?” 
Your first argument. Ignoring him for a whole week, only for your resolve to quickly break when Suguru urgently called you to his house stating that Satoru was deathly ill — dark circles under his eyes, cheeks frail from not eating, wrapped up in his blanket as he dramatically announced his dying wishes while sneaking obvious glances at you. 
Geto’s diagnosis: pure insanity. 
To your first cuddle buddy, to innocent make-out sessions, to wonton looks and lustful touches for more. leading to your first sexual experience, both unknowing and inexperienced as he groaned into your ear in the back of his car one rainy night as you struggled to take his girth.
He was your first taste of goodness — like a forbidden fruit, you increasingly wanted him more. In soul, mind, and body, you etched yourself into him, making the tear even more painful to rip apart. 
Sure, loving him was easy — but loving you, the version who was so lacking compared to him and insecure was hard.
You tried to ignore it, you did your best to brush off the insecurity that came with each day of choosing him. But having the message that you were worth less than he was being constantly blasted to your face — the blatant discrepancies between social classes and the nature of how you both grew up, to the constant side glances you’ll get wondering how someone so normal like you, got with such a high net worth — gradually, it all made you dissociate from him. 
So you worked even harder. You stayed up longer than anyone else just to get that better grade. You worked that extra shift just to prove that you were capable. You doused yourself in knowledge, yet tried to stay humble to be seemingly perfect… but in that, you unknowingly pushed him further away, losing parts of yourself while at it. 
And your final straw? It was a text message you accidentally read on his phone while he silently napped, cutely dozing off as you massaged his scalp.
From: Mom.
>> Remember the girl I talked to you about? Nitori-chan’s family requested that we set up a date for you two. The faster the better, no need for our families to meet, it’s all settled. 
To: Minako.
<< Let’s meet. When are you free, Minako? 
From: Minako.
>> Whenever! I can meet now!
>> Is this about our potential engagement?
To Minako.
<< Yea, let's meet tonight to talk about it.
You remembered, that night you couldn't reach him.
The final trigger that blew it over. The rambling of your thoughts paralyzes you from thinking rationally.
You didn’t need to search up who she was. Nitori Minako, the youngest daughter of Japan’s leading technology company that rivaled to that of America’s fruit. A girl that was a year younger than you — smart, adamantly cute, cunning and rich — always following him around a bit too closely for your liking, preaching about how “Gojo-san promised he’ll marry me when we were young! Isn’t that so cute?”
how long was this going on for? 
Has he always been going on secret dates like this? Was he always just willing to let it slide when you rejected his dates because he had other options?
Was he leading you on this whole time before he’ll leave you for what he rightfully deserved? 
Was all of this a lie? All of what he said?
The pinnacle of your sanity breaking as your thoughts became corrosive and brittle the more you dove deeper into the pitfalls of your insecurities — of course what people said was right, there was no way someone like him can settle for any less.
... Ultimately, everything led to you quietly blurting out as he rambled about his day. 
Playing with your hand, smiling like a loser as he intertwined your smaller fingers with his, “Geez, there was this jeweler that I wanted to take you to, but dammit, the store closed early today. Maybe we can go — ”
“Let’s break up,” you suddenly announced, looking straight ahead.
The room suddenly felt quiet, so quiet that the thumping of your heart felt like loud sirens blaring next to your eardrum, and your body felt numb. 
After a few seconds, Satoru stammered, “w-what?”
Sighing as you closed your eyes, “I said, let’s break up, we aren’t — ” you reiterated.
“I heard you the first time,” Gojo hissed, still playing with your fingers but his grip now harsher, “just wanted to make sure you weren’t bullshitting right now.”
“I’m not joking, Satoru,” your voice stripped of any emotion, “we aren’t good for eachother.”
“Says who?” the man challenged. 
“It’s something that’s been on my mind,” you responded back while trying to pull back your hand, “l-let go, Satoru, it hurts…”
“Is it because of the text?” Gojo refused to let go, even more so gripping even harder, “Fuck... I'm sorry I should've explained earlier," his voice pleading for you to listen.
"I swear nothing happened, and nothing will ever happen, b-baby look at me,” your boyfriend’s — now, ex-boyfriend's — voice elevating and shaking. 
“Gojo,” softly pausing after his name, “let’s end it when things aren’t so bad… I can’t have you hating me more when we have no other choice but to break up,” finally pushing his grip off, “it’s inevitable, we’ve been walking towards a destined finish line from the beginning, let’s just call it quits a little earlier.”
“no... you can't do this, you can't do this to me,” he vulnerably uttered, his body noticeably trembling as a tear dropped onto the back of your hand as he reached over to touch you, hoping it'll mend whatever hatred you had towards him, “you.. we promised,” his voice shaking.
“I’m sorry Gojo,” you dodged his grasp, “guess promises are only good if you can keep them, and I can’t.”
Days of him begging at the forefront of your door, crying as he asked for an explanation, his missed texts and calls that would go straight to voicemail, to Suguru stepping in to ask what the hell was going on… all leading you to cut off every aspect of Gojo Satoru out of your life, except Shoko.
After two years of dating, at the ripe age of 20, you experienced your first heartbreak with Gojo Satoru, marking the end of the final chapter of your love story with him. 
To you, he’ll be the greatest warmth you’ll ever experience. 
To him, you’ll be the heartless bitch that left him cold.
—-
“Hmm,” looking at your empty notifications, “guess she’s a little busy right now…” you hummed. Despite your outwardly calm demeanor and the stillness of the serene summer night, juxtaposed was your mind with wandering thoughts that wrecked havoc in your head. 
Shoko would update you occasionally about him, not going too far into details. You knew he was successful in his craft, excelling in it as he ranked 11th in Forbes 30 under 30 list, losing the tenth spot barely to a Zenin. It would be a lie if you weren’t curious about him, your mind wandering and weak during the quietest of nights, making a burner account to stalk his socials, only to immediately regret the moment you see photos and stories that presumably show that he’s in a relationship — with a gorgeous one in fact.
You’ve briefly heard of his dating history, hearing it from Shoko directly, as it mindlessly slipped through her tongue as she complained that he’s broken up with another girl. 
Throughout the years, you’ve concluded maybe this was your punishment for leaving him. Damnation to feel stuck in the same perpetual regret of hurting his heart, of choosing to look at your fears instead of maybe trusting in him. 
But, at least he looked happy. and you clung onto that reserve.
Maybe it was for the best that things happened this way  —
Your ears perked up as you heard the tapping of shoes coming towards you, your stomach suddenly dropping to the floor. 
“Were you planning on avoiding me the whole night?” 
You were sure, there was no denying that was his voice. 
Yes, it was a bit deeper from when you last heard it. The decibel of his voice is now infused with power and confidence, yet still with the underlying tone of softness from what you remembered. 
“Ah, sorry… how rude of me,” you mumbled, the pounding of your heart beating through your ribcage. You quickly placed an arm over your chest, a hand over your heart, doing anything to muffle the harsh pulsing, terrified that he was going to hear, “it’s been a while Gojo,” you offered him a light smile, “I’m sorry, but if you’ll excuse me Ieiri is waiting for me,” you tried excusing yourself only to be met with his stance unchanging, unmoving. 
You felt his eyes pierce into your skull, “Gojo?… ah that’s right,” his voice guarded as he looked over in another direction, his face pointing specifically elsewhere, the moonlight highlighting his perfect features.
“I think she’s pretty busy, don’t you think?” he shrugged.
Dammit she was your ride home. Guess coffee is on her for the next week. 
“Oh sorry,” you muttered under your breath.
Grinning as he licked his lips, “You’re awfully saying sorry a lot over nothing,” Gojo chuckled, “guess old habits die hard,” his last words spewed with a hint of bitterness as he clenched his jaws. 
Only to relax seconds later, placing his drink on the railing, softly grunting as he pulled off his jacket, and placed it over your shoulders, “It’s cold, don’t want you getting sick now,” the smell of his cologne filled up your lungs, hypnotizing your senses — a bit strong but nonetheless intoxicating.
You couldn’t help but feel guilty for feeling a sense of security from the weight of his heated jacket, and in response, you started to immediately pick at your thumbs. 
“It’s okay!” You tried to object, trying to take it off only to be met with a stern yet gentleness of his voice, his large hand stopping you, now calloused and thick yet the warmth of his palm brushing against your smaller one felt nostalgic and sinful, as your eyes immediately noticed a gold sparkle on his ring finger, “it’s fine. my body runs hot, remember?” 
“T-thank you,” you muttered, the harsh beatings of your heart quickly making your cheeks feel hot. 
A ring? you wondered.  
“So, what made you come today?” Gojo huffed as he looked off into the distance.
“Had no excuse not to come.”
“I see,” his voice deep, taking the last swig of his drink, deeply inhaling to release a long breath, “It’s good to see you though.”
“Yea, me too,” you quietly responded, the awkwardness of the conversation eating at your bones, the tightness of your stomach knotting increasingly more.
Laughing as he turned around, his long legs crossed, showing a bit of his socks peeking out of his slacks as his dress shoes reflected the moon's shine. Surely, they were expensive, probably equaled to a month of your rent on his feet. With his arms crossing his chest, leaning against the railing, the quiet winds brushing against his soft hair, lightly masking his cerulean eyes as he faced you, “Liar, you were always good at that.”
Taking you off guard, your eyes immediately connecting with his, your breath stopping as if a sudden load was pushed onto your chest, you felt a wave of sadness rush over you as you ventured into his empty eyes. 
Since when did he have that ring? 
Did he find someone at Paris? Shoko told me — no, there’s no way he found someone so soon.
Or maybe he’s trying to settle down —
“Are you happy?” His question brought you back into reality.
“What?” you whispered.
“I don’t think I’ve asked a hard question,” he responded, his voice now harsh and impatient, “I asked if you were happy.”
Your finger pricks at your thumb, “I guess so…”
Rolling his tongue against his teeth, his finger playing with his ring.   
Taking no regard for catering to your comfort, he jeered, “Why’d you do it?”
“What are you talking —” you stammered.
“You know damn well what I’m referring to,” Gojo spat. 
“Excuse me,” You muttered, your eyes refusing to disconnect despite your whole body fighting against it.
“I- I got to go, Ieiri is waiting —”
“No, you already used that excuse,” pulling you in by your wrist, immediately caging you in between his arms, with you now leaning against the railing, your eyes level to his broad chest — has he always been this big?
“Answer me, at least you can have the courtesy of honestly telling me why you left me like that eight years ago.”
“I don't remember,” you stated with eyes threatening to spill.
“Liar,” his body leaning down, the hurt in eyes even more apparent than before, “you’re a fucking liar,” Gojo spewed with no resolve to withhold a solid tear from falling, his face now dangerously close — lips even more threatening to touch.
All you wanted to do was say sorry, to cup his face and kiss his tears, to say it was a mistake that you’ve never intended to let him go — you selfishly tortured him by continuously keeping him in your heart without giving him a chance to prove you wrong. 
“I’m so sorry,” was all you could respond.
“Did you not trust me?” Hurt was apparent in his voice, “Was I that untrustworthy for you to just leave like that and just disappear for eight years?”
“No, no… it’s not like that,” you tried comforting, unknowingly placing your hands on his chest, “it was never like that.”
"then tell me why," he forced out through gritted teeth while furrowing his brows.
"I just thought it was for the best," you quietly whispered.
"you thought it would be for the best?" Gojo scoffed, "And how the hell did you come to a conclusion to just leave like that?"
" 'm sorry, Gojo... I - I truly am," you pleaded while clenching his shirt.
"You must've really enjoyed watching me beg huh," Gojo challenged, "absolutely thrived knowing this was all for my own good, right?" Gojo spat out his anger.
"It wasn't like that, i'm so sorry, I was hurting —"
“Stop fucking apologizing! you don't get to do that," His voice shattered the serene night. Chest heaving as he clenched onto the stone railing, "I didn’t go through shit these past eight years just to hear your selfish sorry's,” he stated with gritted teeth, as he threateningly moved even closer, “d-did you even love me?” 
“Yes, of course!” You immediately cupped his face, finally letting go of the years you craved his touch, your heart shattering as you felt him melt into your wicked hands.
“Then kiss me,” he suddenly whispered, the slight scent of alcohol mixed in with cologne altering your judgment.
“Y-your drunk, Gojo,” you pleaded, immediately letting go of his face as you tried to push him off.
His voice elevated, "Why not?" Gojo growled, "Like you said, it's not like you left because you didn't love me. Or are you lying about that too?"
“don’t make this hard, we — I can’t do this with you anymore,” guilt running through your veins as the image of his ring blared loudly in your head.
You couldn’t do this to another girl, he wasn’t yours anymore… 
“stop the bullshit,” Gojo growled before his lips slammed into yours, his large hands cupping your face, leaving you no room to run away. his tongue forced its way into your mouth, teeth painfully clashing yet you didn’t mind. because against your resolve, your arms immediately wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to taste the sweetness of his saliva and feel the warmth of his tongue.
The groan of his voice vibrated against your lips, as his clothed hip bucked into your pelvis, his lips trailing down from yours to your neck, tongue sloppily trailing down with it as his hands wandered down to hold your hips.
“Tell me you missed me,” he moaned out as you gripped the ends of his hair,  his tongue teasing down your sweet spots, pecking kisses as he inhaled your scent.
“Say you loved me, I don't care anymore if it’s a lie,” your ex now pleaded, his hot breath heating your cheeks.
“… I love you,” you confessed.
Lowly laughing like a maniac, staring deep into your wanting eyes, the man whispered back, “aren't you fucking heartless.”
...
You don’t recall how you made it into the hotel room. In a moment your lips crashed with his on the balcony, and only a second later you found yourself with his large hand securely wrapped around yours, silently waiting for the elevator to bing on the twentieth floor as your ex-boyfriend led you into his hotel room.
Now, currently, you’re pressed against the wall, shoes thrown aside groaning with your hands tangled in his soft hair, as he hurriedly stripped you out of your dress, lips hungrily moving against each other as he growled into the kiss.
Though its been years, his touch never faltered from remembering your body — immediately tracing over your sweet spots that he’s located in your early twenties, now with more experience and strength he dove deeper in.
“Fuck, missed these beauties,” he groaned as he cupped your breasts, his thumb playing with your hardened nipples as he quickly released the back strap of your bra, promptly latching his lips onto your swollen ones again right before you released a moan.
Your body had a mind of its own. Fallen into sin, your hands unbuttoned his shirt, quickly revealing his toned, muscular build as your hands ran against his pecs. You felt his stomach flex as you started to unbuckle his belt and zip down his pants, his lips hungrily chasing after yours as he caressed your body, hands slipping down further into your inner thigh, his index starting to play with your swollen clit — his fingers have always been so pretty, especially with his ring
“G-gojo stop!” Your eyes immediately shoot open.
“What,” annoyed, the man hissed, looking into your eyes with his pupils dilated, hair absolutely disheveled, until moments later his lips are impatiently back onto yours again. 
“We.. we can’t,” you cried out as you melted in his touch, “y-your ring,” you gasped out, suffocating as he stripped you of oxygen.
“Ring?” he stopped for a brief moment, chuckling as he brought up his finger, “you worried about this?” he teased.
Intoxicated in his touch, you were willing to throw away your pride and dignity just for one night — one night can’t hurt, right? So you take the ounce of courage you had left, placing a tender kiss on his lips as a sign of surrender as you gently cupped his face, “take off your ring,” you whispered as you guilty looked away.
Chasing after your kiss, pushing you further into the room as you yelped at his force, your arms entangled around his neck and fingers around his hair as you tried to stabilize yourself, “I promise you it’s nothing, sweetheart,” he coaxed with his sharp canines flashing through his wickedly handsome smile. 
And running his lips against your chest, leaving small denture marks on your skin that forced moans out of you, with his pants now pooled at his ankles before shimming them off, his cock fully erect, unapologetically twitching in his briefs.
“For you, I guess,” Gojo hummed as he watched the thin line of spit that connected you both dissipate away, existing as a sign of proof of the situationship he currently had with you. 
Taking his ring off, he set it down near the bedside table, "there it's gone."
At least for this night, he was yours. 
You’ll repent for your sins, and receive any punishment the gods had to give you tomorrow, but today, you chose him.
And right now, you also chose to kneel in between his thighs, hooking your finger under his waistband to pull his briefs off. Satoru immediately lifted his hips to help you while releasing a sultry groan as he felt the cold air elope his sensitive tip. 
Was he always this thick? You remembered his cock being pretty, but also what the fuck were those two veins running down his shaft? And was he always this… groomed? 
“Are you just gonna stare at it… or do I need to use your mouth to get some action?” Satoru impatiently asked with his cock twitching, his finger brushing against your heated cheeks as he palmed his member.
“It’s just been awhile,” you murmured, licking your lips before you opened your mouth to have him enter.
“Fuck, " Satoru shuddered as the base of your tongue brushed against his frenulum.
"i must be dreaming,” Gojo murmured under his breath, your head rising up as you released his cock with pop! With your hot tongue swirling against his head, there was no chance for Satoru to stay strong. and you enjoyed every second of seeing him slowly unravel in your power.
“j-just like that,” he ordered while placing his hand on top of your head, guiding your momentum. 
His precum tasted salty but pleasant. Hell, he wasn’t even close to the other men you’ve been with, incomparable starting with the size of their dicks to his.
Hallowing your cheeks and expanding your throat to take in his shaft, with your hands gently playing with his balls, you felt his cock hit the back of your throat the moment you saw his head fling backwards, gasping as he pushed down his spit down his dry throat.
“You like that?” Gojo hissed as he bucked his hips into your warm crevice, “you missed my cock, angel?”
You honestly agreed, tears staining your vision with his length stuffed into your orifice, only to get a spiteful laugh in return, “well, guess that makes two of us,” he huffed while crowning over your body, pushing himself deeper into you, his stomach hitching as he groaned out your name.  
“Fuck this shit,” he moaned, as he urgently pulled himself out of your mouth, sacrificing his impeding release for abstinence. 
“You’re driving me crazy,” he gasped when your thumbs swirled around his pulsing head, “you always do,” he purred as he nibbled on your lower lip, promptly pulling you onto his lap, one hand straddling your waist while the other mounded your ass.
And looking up at you, with his blue eyes now darkened in full blown lust, his hot breath sending chills down your spine, “tell me what you want? I’ll give you anything.”
“Y-you,” you shamefully confessed, gasping as his cock grazed against your sensitive folds, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you started to grind against his length, “I want you inside me again, Satoru” you whispered into his ear, lightly moaning out his name.
“Shit,” Satoru croaked, pulling himself down as he gently released you to lay on the bed, “I dont have a condom,” he confessed as he gently kissed your cheeks, “ you gonna be okay without it?” he asked.
“Mhm, j-just hurry… please,” you murmured. 
“Good girl, now come here,” he coaxed as he placed a soft pillow under your head. 
Taking a brief moment to observe your face, reading any sign of forced emotion that you might try to hide, only to ease himself into the kiss when he feels you impatiently desiring his touch, “relax, baby,” he cooed as his kisses traveled southward.
Placing each delicate kiss on your body as his soft hair trailed behind, lightly tickling you as your thighs gently caged his waists into you, “you know they wanted me to thank you,” Gojo breathed out as he split your thighs open, settling himself in between your legs.
“W-who?” you whimpered as his calloused hands massaged your muscles, his soft lips easing out the tension boiling in your core while your hands immediately went straight to grip his hair.
Lips drawing closer, closer and closer until his breath knocked against the frame of your dripping cunt.
“God you’re so fucking wet,” blowing air onto your sensitive nerves, looking up to watch your body shiver at his power as he slid his finger down your folds, pushing in one finger, two, and eventually three into your tight hole as he watched you stretch, your viscous juice soon dripping down his forearm.
“They wanted me to thank you for how good I eat pussy now,” Gojo smirked before he took a swipe of his tongue against your womanhood, spreading out your cunt as he purposefully flicked his tongue against your clit, lightly sucking on the bud thereafter.
… 
How many times as it been, you wondered? More than once or twice, maybe four… five — you moaned out when you felt your legs hitching up to his shoulders, his cock hitting just at the right spots he remembered from years ago. 
“Angel,” Gojo huffed as sweat dripped down his temple, grunting as he felt your tight walls fluttering against his length at the call of his sweet pet name, “you have that much leisure to be thinking about something else when I’m fucking you?” 
Kissing your ankles, his pelvis showing you no mercy as his wet skin slapped against your ass, the sound and sultry smell of hot sex filtrating your room, “still so fucking tight,” Satoru grunted as he pushed his body onto you, your legs hooking against his shoulders, his strong arms holding you from under.
“G-gojo!” you rasped out, barely audible and inable to breathe from his heavy weight and humidity of the room, “it’s too deep! Slow down!”
Growling into your ear, his teeth nibbling against your earlobe, his hot breath stinging your face as he scoffed at your choice to call him so mundanely.
“you gonna be so impersonable,” his thrust going deeper, harder into you, “when I’m so deepily inside you?”
“Ngh,” gasping, “it’s too much,” you sobbed with his face planted into your neck, and his ass clenching with every push he drove into your gushy walls that still wrapped so perfectly around his — just like how he’s last felt you around him, just like how he’s molded your insides just for himself.
“You let anyone else fuck you?” He suddenly hissed, panting as he tried to catch his breath, the sweat on his back making it difficult for you to hold onto him, “you let anyone else see this side of you?”
“It’s too much —” you pleaded, avoiding his question.
“Answer me,” he lowly ordered.
Unable to withstand his power, absolutely willing to fold for him and his desires, you fastidiously nodded, “only a couple,” you shyly confessed.
"how many," he growled, disappointed in your answer, "how many fucked this."
"o-one or two, ngh I-I don't remember," you panted.
“One or two, you say,” he cooed as he pulsed his cock swiftly into you in rhythmic motions, satisfied seeing his length disappear inside you. his pace driving you to the brink of insanity as your lower belly started to fire up again as he knowingly pressed his palm down on your stomach.
“Then I gotta fuck you twice more to force out all memory you have of those stupid fucks,” grunting as he cupped your face to look at him, lips swollen with his skin marked by your nails, hips unapologetically thrusting into you as he watched you unravel in his lead, “because this pussy’s always been mine.”
Seven.
He’s definitely made you cum seven times. you remembered the count just before he groaned out your name, his thrusts sloppy and strained, gasping as he pulled you tighter into his embrace, face caved into your neck as he finally released his thick loads into your abused walls, sobbing out cursed moans as you held him, expending out every last ounce of energy you had for him in mere four words,
“I’ve always loved you,” you whispered before completely passing out. 
You failed to notice a tear fall from his eyes drop to your face. He hoped that it’ll stain you, wished it would reach all the way through to your heart to burn you. But he couldn't, so instead he carefully wiped it away as he gently kissed your face — inch by inch of your canvas before he chose to face you again.
“you’re so heartless,” Gojo chuckled as he pulled you in for a tight hug, straight into his chest as he laid beside you, refusing to pull out and have his cum spill onto the sheets — a feat he’s never dared to do with anyone else, he’s always fucked protected.
“what am I going to do with you," he breathed out.
"even with all this time, I’m still so weak for you,” he quietly confessed, reaching over to the side, reaching for his ring to put on the empty finger, before he too fell into the abyss of another dimension with you in his arms. 
—-
Lowly groaning as you opened your eyes, your body felt oddly heavy and aching, but yet warm and safe despite feeling on the absolutely verge of possibly snapping in half and breaking with any force.
Blinking a couple times before you started to register the room, you felt a slight huff next to your ear and the tightening around your waist as your back leaned against something hard.
Gojo Satoru, in all of his glory, was sleeping so soundly next you.
Carefully turning around to face him, you observed his features as you ran your fingers against his skin.
His lashes were still so long and soft, you giggled when Gojo twitched his nose at your touch.
His cheeks were still so smooth, without a spec of a blemish, but you can see the little bags under his eyes and the small creases on his skin. he’s probably tired from traveling.
Your finger travels down to his chiseled jaw, and defined collar bones, examining the light scratch marks on his pale skin, and the bruising of his nipple — wait… his lips are chapped and swollen, and his cock… oh god, his cock was brushing against your stomach — hard and pulsing. 
Immediately gasping, you felt the blood in your body drain at the revelation that you’ve fucked your ex — no, you fucked your ex of eight years, that you were still crazily hung up over that most likely had a girlfriend waiting for him to respond back to.  
Before you could think, your adrenaline pressed forward to act before your mind, immediately unlocking his hands from your naked waists, standing up too quickly only to stumble from your trembling legs. You felt something drip down your thighs — white viscous slowly running down your legs, your face heating up at the memory of last night. 
“I- I need to leave,” you whispered, quickly gathering your discarded clothes and undergarments as you rushed to the restroom, forcing down your whimpers as your sensitive cunt brushed against your thighs with every step you took.
“I can’t be here, t-this was a mistake,” you stammered while putting on your dress, quickly stuffing your used panties into your purse.
You looked like a mess, but it didn’t matter because you needed to get the hell out of there before he woke up, but somehow your feet didn’t move in the direction you wanted them to — out the door — but instead towards him unknowingly sleeping.
And quietly sitting against the edge of the bed, carefully pushing away the edges of his bangs that covered his handsome face, you decided to take a minute to absorb the last images of what you’ll have of him. And there you decided to let a tear or two drop from your eyes as you said your last goodbyes, gently kissing his lips before you made your way out the door, whispering, once again,
“I’m sorry…”
—- 
It’s been close to an hour since your walk of shame out the door. Since then you quickly checked out of your room and made your way out of the hotel. 
You immediately called for a taxi to get home, groaning as you were hit with the realities of your mistakes last night.
Treading up the stairs your legs quivered with every move. It's been a while since you've been fucked that hard, nor even had a partner that lasted so long.
You needed to text Shoko, you prayed that she didn’t blow through your notifications when you suddenly went missing last night. Sighing, you absentmindedly tried to find your phone in your bag as you punched in your door keys.
You started to think, maybe the whole fucking universe was now against you, for your sins, because your phone wasn’t in your purse.
You tried to retrace your steps to where you’d last used it as you made yourself over to your bed, stripping off your clothes as you walked over to the shower.
And to your last memory, you texted Ieiri out in the balcony… and then,
“Shit,” you hissed, remembering how your bag was tossed to the side when you were being feverishly stripped of your clothes, “it’s probably under his bed or something.”
“I hope no one calls… or tries to contact me until he leaves his room,” you groaned as the hot water massaged your tense shoulders while your fingers ran down your body.
Washing every crevice as you also tried to erase away the memory you had with him, you forced yourself to retract your tears. This was your punishment you repeated, this was the outcome of your selfishness. You lathered yourself in soap, trying to scrub away the pent-up guilt until you noticed something flash under the light.
You never wore your jewelry into the shower, you’ve always had a habit to take them off to not tarnish. 
But there was a golden ring, a ring that fits a little loosely on your promise finger.
Unable to understand why, all that circled through your mind was to go back.
Quickly washing off, throwing on any pair of clothes before running to your door, you could feel your anxious heart beating loudly in your chest as your ears started to feel plugged from the tension. And just when you’re about to open your door, you hear a buzz that silenced every chaos around you.
Looking through the peep hole, you felt faint, your heart entirely about to burst — is this reality or am i still dreaming?
“It’s me,” you heard his calm voice.
Your hands trembled as you slowly opened up the door, your eyes taking a moment to quickly scan his body — donning the same clothes as yesterday with the top buttons of his white shirt undone and ends stuffed into his slacks, his hair lightly messy and eyes a little sunken.
“How’d you get here?” you gasped with your ringed hand clenched, hidden behind your back, while the other pricked at your thumb.
“You left your phone in my room, and I found it because Ieiri was blowing up your phone," Satoru calmly stated as he handed over your phone, "so I asked where you lived to drop it off.”
“She didn’t say anything?” you warily asked
“Well, she did ask about us."
“And… did she threaten you or anything?”
“No, why would she? But,” stretching out his arms as he released groan, “I told her we fucked,” he boyishly smiled. 
Afraid to confront your messy rendezvous with him, you nervously bit your lips, and you avoided his gaze. Noticing your tendencies, you felt his hand cup your face to meet his while his thumb gently soothed your aching lip, "hey," he whispered, "don't do that."
And stepping closer to you, the mild fragrance of his shampoo dancing in your nostrils, “Did you see it?” he asked.
“Mhm,” you acknowledged, “I saw it just now while showering,” you looked into his eyes to seek an answer, tears starting to cloud your vision.
“You know, I’m not the same anymore,” he confessed, “I have power, I’m strong, and I’m able to do things now,” pressing a kiss onto your forehead, “but the only thing that stayed the same about me," chuckling as he shook his head — as if he couldn't even believe it himself.
"is that I didn’t change my number since we’ve broken up,” he stated before taking a step into your apartment, the click of his shoes hitting the tile floor echoing throughout the hallway, “I just hoped maybe one day you’ll call.”
"why?" you honestly questioned, unable to understand why he would choose to do that.
"I don't know," Satoru shrugged while pulling away, "guess I really tried to subconsciously manifest the we were fated to be bullshit that I preached."
“But that girl,” you quietly muttered while you unknowingly pouted when you saw his arms cross against his chest, the tightness of his sleeves about to burst from his muscles bulging.
“Girl… what girl?” Your comment took him aback.
“The one you were in Paris with,” your face feeling hot, embarrassed that you outed yourself for stalking him.
“You stalking me?” He chuckled while leaning against the wall, "it's not what you think," Gojo sighed as he pushed back his hair, "that girl, it was Suguru.”
Raising an eyebrow as he examined your expression, sighing as he saw the unbelief in your eyes, “Here look,” he commented while pulling out his phone to show you pictures, “we went for his art exhibition or some shit because his girl couldn’t make it with him.”
“B-but you came late to the reunion.”
“Yea, because I wasn't going to pull up looking mid when I needed to make you regret ever dumping me,” he joked while pinching your cheeks, "I didn't have plans on attending until that jerk sent me a photo of you," he shamelessly confessed.
“You’re stupid,” you grasped his hand to check his finger — ringless.
“But it was worth it, no? Got you to indirectly confess,” emphasizing his last few words, “that maybe you still love me."
"Whatever," you mumbled, "I said I loved you."
"fine by me," Satoru accepted, " but the fact is that you still think I’m hot, no? Or maybe you just missed my cock? ”
“You’re crazy,” you stated while wiping your tears.
“Yea, I know,” his gaze softens as he sees you playing with his fingers, your small ones wrapped around his.
“and this ring is too big for me,” you cried as you melted in his touch, his right thumb gently rubbing against your cheeks.
“That too, I know,” he smiled stepping closer into your house, and slowly closing the door behind him, “we’ll get another one together soon, only if you'll let me.”
"I'd like that," you whispered.
“I just couldn’t get it for us when you heartlessly broke up with me eight years ago," Satoru confessed while brushing the tip of his nose against yours.
“I’m so sorry Satoru,” you snuggled your face into his strong chest, his arms tightly wrapped around you, cooing as he steadied your breaths, “Shhh, it’s okay baby, it’s okay.”
“I’ve hurt you, I’m the one that caused all this,” you heaved as he pressed light kisses all over your face.
“Through everything,” kissing your swollen eyes, taking his time to savor your touch as his lips traveled their way back to its home, briefly kissing your ringed finger as he looked into your eyes. 
And sealing his final destination, he whispered before locking his lips with yours once more,
“I’ll always find you even if you run away because you’ll always be mine.”
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author's comment: sheesh, I didn't expect this to get this long... but here it is! I wanted to write the typical exes-to-lovers trope, but I was stuck on the quote with Satoru teasing how his past partners wanted to thank the reader for teaching him how to eat pussy... and here we are over 9k words later.... oh wells
again, i hope you enjoyed it!!
p.s. i might just have one exes to lovers in the drafts for geto, as well.... hahahahaha but you didn't hear that from me, nope (,:
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lillybean730 · 10 months
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took ollie to the vet and made my brother pay for it 😎
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mysticdragon3md3 · 1 year
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Ok. Bernadetta has been trending for A WHILE now. I go to check the tag and someone smashed her Pop Up Parade with a rock? And he's been talking about doing it way beforehand? Whaaaaat…???? Who pays $40 just to smash a perfectly good figurine????? As a figure collector, I just don't understand. o~O! Someone hinted that it's a reference to something in-game…? I didn't pay attention to Black Eagles anything, so I have no idea what's going on. I just feel bad that people want to crush Bernie. She's a small, frightened cutie. Please don't hurt her! ;o;
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fairymint · 1 year
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'Celestial' is the medicine that my seasonal depression needs.
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heartual · 2 years
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oh my GOD
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MASTERMIND- J.B BARNES
Pairing: Boyfriend! Bucky x Virgin! Fem! Reader
Word Count: 3.3k
Summary: you had never been interested in sex, or men for that matter- until you met bucky. now bucky and you had been going strong for months, and there's no one else you’d want to lose your virginity to. now the only challenge was making it seem like you were experienced...
Warnings: SMUT, reader losing her v card, dry humping, teasing, lots of pet names, PRAISE kink, slight playful choking, size kink, breeding kink if u squint real close, aftercare, reader has some anxiety, bucky being a really, really big sweetheart and a charming gentleman. seriously would die for this man.
“so i told you none of it was accidental, and the first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me. i laid the groundwork and then saw a wide smirk on your face, you knew the entire time... you knew that i'm a mastermind and now you're mine.”- mastermind, taylor swift
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Tonight was the night. 
It was the night that would change your life, the night you would be thinking about each time your head hit the pillow, and when you’d wake up in the morning. 
The clock continued to tick slowly, almost mockingly as you waited, fingers twisting themselves into a knot. It was life-changing for you, but the same for anyone else. Everyone else continued with their lives, all in their own little fantasy worlds, with their issues and desires. 
It was confusing to think about, to wrap your head around. You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs, just for anyone to hear you, so they could offer their advice, or not care at all.
 Hey world! I’m a virgin, but my boyfriend doesn't know that! How do I go all the way with him without making it awkward?
But you kept your mouth shut, as you always did about things that mattered most to you. 
You sat and waited, like a patient in the waiting room, desperate to get seen. The door remained shut, the doctor refusing to come out. You knew Bucky wasn't supposed to come to your place until later, but the anticipation was killing you. 
It fired a pit in your belly, causing you to feel almost lightheaded as you waited, re-churning old worries and anxieties around in your mind like butter. 
You were in university, had been for some time now- but you were still a virgin. It made you feel stupid, even though you knew it didn’t matter. Virginity was a social concept. 
It was stupid, and dumb, and anyone could do what they wanted with their body whenever they wanted. Despite this, you still felt bad. Memories of your high school friends giggling and rushing to tell you of their sex lives haunted you, and even though you knew it probably was shit sex, at least they were getting some. 
You were surprised Bucky hadn't pushed the matter, regardless of the fact the two of you had been together for a few months now. They were the best few months of your life, and he had never made you feel so safe and comfortable in your own skin. 
So why was this so nerve-racking? 
He was obviously waiting for you to make the first move, to make sure you felt secure with his intentions. You hung your head low, hands coming up to rub your tired eyes as you sighed in the quiet. 
This was stupid. You were being stupid.
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“This is stupid.” Bucky called from his spot on the couch, banging the remote with his hand as his head slouched back over the couch back. 
The internet had gone out for the second time this week, your landlord refusing to call the company no matter how much his residents complained. You watched the Netflix Error screen pop up on the screen again, the loading screen making Bucky's eyes roll along with it. 
“Trust me baby, I know.” you said, popping a blueberry in your mouth, its sweetness exploding in your mouth. 
“I guess we won't get to see Andrew Garfield's beautiful biceps after all.” Bucy hummed, tossing the remote so it buried itself in the cushions, a chore the two of you would have to complete when he’d want to watch cartoons with you in the morning. 
It sounded lame, but the amount of happiness you got from eating sugary cereal and watching old shows you both watched as kids was exhilarating. 
Bucky reached his arms out, an indicator he wanted you to curl up in his lap, a silent order you happily obeyed. “I guess not.” you pouted, trotting over to your personal teddy bear, breathing in his calming cedarwood scent. 
His skin was warm to the touch, fingers reaching to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear- lingering just a little longer than they needed to. You smiled as you looked up at him, your legs straddled across his lap, arms linked loosely around his neck.
 It was a position you often sat in, his need for personal touch consuming every waking hour when the two of you were together. But this time, it felt almost different- in a way. 
There was a secret message intertwined into your touches as you rested your head on his shoulder, nose nuzzling the side of his neck as you hummed softly. You breathed him in, utterly consumed by him as his hands found their place at your sides, repeating the same soothing strokes up and down your body. 
It was delicate, but you were hungry. 
You didn’t know how to approach this, this overwhelming urge you were feeling. 
How was this supposed to start? 
You didn’t want to outright tell Bucky, because that felt too weird. Too naked and vulnerable for your liking. You had to hint that you had done this, and that you wanted to do this- because you did.
 But you were inexperienced. And you knew that Bucky had experience- which made you feel even more stupid if you messed up. 
You were frozen, a realization hitting you all at once that you didn’t know how to even begin to approach this. The endless hours of planning this, planning exactly how and when, and who did not compare to the actual moment at hand. 
Bucky sensed this, as he always did- picking up on your sudden small movements. A catch of a breath, a fidget of the hands, the continuous tapping of a foot never got past him. “Sweetheart?” 
“Hmm?” you poked your head up, meeting his soft gaze as he studied you intensely. “What’s going on inside that pretty little mind of yours hm?” he asked, large hand coming up to cup your cheek as if the thoughts would trickle out into his palm. 
You gnawed on your lip, teeth digging into the flesh as you debated. 
Hold it off. You will sound like an idiot. Don’t even think about mentioning it.
 “M’just thinking.” you smiled, yet it wavered. 
“Just thinkin?”
 “Just thinkin.” you replied, thankful he didn’t push you further. Instead, he just kissed you- lips soft and inviting against yours, tasting of peppermint. You moaned, body leaning closer to him on instinct, hips rolling against him. 
“I’m gonna find out what's on your mind eventually.” he whispered, making you shake your head in response, a coy little smile plastered across your face like a mask. 
“Maybe.” you teased, kissing him again to shut him up. It was a little game you liked to play with him- fighting for that sense of dominance, though deep down you knew he always possessed it. 
Bucky’s hands roamed, making you shiver with excitement, his hips bucking up in sync with yours as the minutes dragged on. It was hot and heavy, gasping breaths and teeth and tongue. 
But this, this was about as far as it had gotten with you two. This teasing, this edging and dry humping until someone spilled in their pants. 
But not tonight. 
You didn’t think you could leave it at this tonight. 
You decided to take a risk, bringing your hand down to rub across the smooth planes of his stomach, brushing your fingers across the bulge in his pants, making him hiss.
 “Doll if you keep doing that I dont think I’m gonna be able to control myself.” he growled gently, forcing your eyes to meet his own predatory gaze. 
“I don’t want you to.” you breathed, a hint of a whisper that seemed to blend with the heavy pants, the rise and fall of his chest. An eyebrow was raised, hand sliding up to fit perfectly around your neck as if it were a choker. 
“Yeah? You want me to fuck you pretty angel?” he asked, making you nod. 
“Yes but- but I’ve never-” 
He stopped. Instantly, his hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing your heated cheeks with such delicately it was as if you were a petal upon a blooming flower. 
“Woah, woah lets step back for a second angel. You’ve never… you’ve never been intimate with anyone before?” 
You shoke your head. 
This was embarrassing. Holy fuck this was embarrassing.
 “No I haven't. I know it's embarrassing and totally lame, I understand if you dont want to do anything anymore.” All he could do was shake his head, shushing your words. 
“It's not embarrassing at all. It's kinda hot actually, that I’m the lucky one to get you like this. But angel, are you sure you want to do this… with me? You want it to be with me?”
 “Yes.” 
Because truth be told, you couldn't imagine doing it with anyone else. You wanted to be Bucky, more than anyone else. 
“We can stop at anytime, okay? Don’t feel like we have to do this, or it’s too late to say no. You want to stop, we stop- no questions asked. And tell me if I’m doing something you don’t like, please.” he insisted, making you giggle as he kissed your lips gently. 
The breath was stolen from your lungs as you were suddenly swept upwards, definitely gravity as Bucky picked you up in his arms. You wrapped your limbs around him tightly like a koala bear, curious as to where he was taking you. 
“Where are we going?” you asked expectantly, watching as he made his way to your bedroom- to the layers of blankets the two of you had tangled in so many times before. 
Never like this though. 
“I’m not allowing your first time to be on some silly couch angel. I’m gonna take care of my girl.” he cooed, laying down upon the sheets, standing over you with a gleam in his eye. 
“So now what?” you breathed, scared on how things would play out next. You weren't quite sure what exactly you truly liked yet. You knew you liked when Bucky was gentle with you, when he would whisper sweet praises in your ears and when he would coax you to an orgasm. 
But during actual sex? It was a clean, blank slate. 
“Can I take these off sweetheart?” he pointed to your sleep shorts, butterflies in your chest fluttering so hard you could hear them faintly in your ears. You nodded, too scared to say anything, too scared to even breathe in case you woke up and this was all a dream. 
Bucky's hands were soft as they slid up your thighs, and you lifted your hips slightly to assist him as he slowly tugged them off- savoring the moment as much as you were.
 “There we go.” he smiled as he tossed the shorts to the floor, watching you eagerly slide the shirt off your head to reveal yourself to him. 
All that was left was a small scrap of fabric covering you, one that was getting wetter and wetter with each passing second Bucky looked at you like that. 
Like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. Like he was mesmerized, like he was hungry and only you could satisfy them. You couldn't help but laugh nervously as he took you in. 
“S’beautiful. So, so so pretty, such a pretty girl.” he babbled, raising your leg to rest over his shoulder as he peppered kisses to your inner thigh all the way to your ankle. You couldn't help but let your hands slide up to cup your breasts, closing your eyes in pleasure as you toyed with your nipples.
 “That's it baby. Do what makes you feel good.” he groaned, rutting himself against the bed frame as he watched you play with yourself in rhythm with his kisses and scrapes of his teeth against your skin. 
“I want you Bucky. Please, want you so bad.” you begged, one hand reaching down to run your fingers through the silk strands, getting lost in the ink.
 “Yea? You ready sweetheart?” 
“Please.” was all you could whisper, watching with delight as he rose to his full height, towering over you as he undressed himself for you. His shirt was tossed with your shorts, lost to the memory as his belt unbuckled. 
This was happening. This was really, truly happening. 
So many emotions were rushing through you like a freight train, anxiety, excitement, passion. It was overwhelming, but Bucky understood this. 
“We can stop at any time. We can stop right now if you want, baby. I know it can be nerve-racking.” he assured, wanting nothing more for you to be comfortable and happy. Your happiness was his. It was something he often told you, and it brought nothing but a warmth that spread through your body. It felt nice to be cared about, to be looked after and cherished. 
“I want this.” you murmured, desire laced in your tone as he leaned over you. 
“I want this too. I’ve wanted this since the moment I’ve laid on that gorgeous lil body of yours.”
 “Pervert.” you teased, his laughter echoing throughout the room before he peppered kisses across your cheeks, causing your to squirm. “You’re such a minx.” he cooed, kissing you once more on the lips before he slid your panties down your thighs, over your thighs and toes before they were also, like everything else- forgotten. 
Your breath seemed to get caught in your throat. The gentle pitter-patter of rain that slid down the windows echoed from the end of a tunnel, the candle you had lit a while back seeming to glow just a bit brighter to highlight the wanderlust in Bucky's eyes. 
“Please.” was your only confirmation, your form of consent as he entered you slowly. You gasped, muscles tightening as you clawed his biceps. It was an unfamiliar feeling, intrusive as he moaned softly. 
“Shh, just relax angel. Good girl.” he praised as you exhaled, wincing slightly at his size as he stretched you out. 
He was big. You had known this, but it was different with him actually inside you. 
“Do you wanna stop?” he asked, concerned. You shoke your head. “No, no I’m okay. Just feels weird is all.” you whispered, moaning slightly as he filled you even more, bulge appearing from your stomach. 
“You're doing so well for me sweetheart, so so well. M’so proud of you darlin.” he cooed, making the fire in your belly flame that much higher. 
Bucky stayed inside you, unwilling to move for a few minutes until he knew you were comfortable. Your nails began to declaw from his arm, little crescent moons doting his muscles as your breath filled your lungs easier. 
“Can I move?” he hummed and you nodded, the feeling of pain morphing into some form of pleasure as he shifted. 
“Oh fuck-” he moaned, his forehead brushing against yours as he rocked his hips, causing your back to arch, chest brushing his. 
“Bucky oh god..” you drawled, finally understanding. 
So this was what the hype was about. This is what people lived for, people died for, people killed for. This sense of connection, the closeness you reached, the feeling of bliss. The feelings that sparked inside your core that were new, something that made your head spiral. It was like Bucky had you under some spell, like this was some sort of daydream your body felt so tingly. 
“You're so wet angel- n’ so tight-” he gasped as he filled you to the hilt again, finding a gentle, easy rhythm that sent you to the heavens. You were mindlessly babbling, no words coming out of your mouth coherent as your eyes rolled. 
“I- love-you-mghm.” you moaned with each thrust, your body jolting as the bed rocked from Bucky's movements. His hand pinned yours above your head, a makeshift handcuff as his lips found yours again, silencing your whines.
 “I love you so, so much darlin, so good to me. Just let go for me baby, let go.” he whispered, your body following his commands as you felt the coil break, release washing over you as you clamped down on his cock.
 “O-Oh god-” you panted, hiccuping on your noises as you struggled to catch your breath. “Good girl. Good, good girl.” Bucky coaxed you, riding you through your orgasm. 
You sensed his breath hitch, his noises getting louder with each shift of the bed frame- and you knew he was getting close. “Inside. I’m on the pill.”
 “Oh god baby shit shit shit-” he panted, your words turning him on even more than he thought was possible. His grip tightened around your wrists as he came inside you with a growl of your name, possessiveness seeping out of him from the way he kissed and bit along your collarbone. 
You felt full and warm, Bucky’s chant of “I love you, I love you oh god I love you” against your skin making you giggle. 
“Thank you for taking care of me.” you smiled. 
“Thank you for being the most wonderful, most beautiful girlfriend in the history of the universe.” he teased, freeing your hands from his grip so you could run your fingers through his hair once more, cupping the sides of his cheeks as he always did to you. 
You winced slightly as he slowly eased out of you, feeling his cum slowly seep from your abused hole. “I know pup m’sorry, I promise you're okay.” 
He kissed you not once, not twice but three times as you pried your squinted eyes open, your body slowly relaxing as he stood. You stared up at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan spin as the cool air washed over your hot and sticky skin. 
Going over so many things in your mind, relief spilling through each aching muscle. You had lost your virginity- and there was nothing to be scared about. It wasn't so much the actual sex you were worried about- more so the stigma you were worried you'd inflict on yourself. Scared you would do something wrong, or worried Bucky would look at you differently after hearing you had never done it with anyone else. 
Of course the thought were irrational, you knew this now looking back on them but they were still valid nonetheless. 
Bucky's footsteps snapped you out of your trace, and you now realized you were too deep in thought to even notice him leave the room. A smile was plastered on his face, baby blues seeming to glow brighter than they had all night- if that were even possible. 
A damp facecloth was in his hand and you watched as he sat down beside you, bed dipping slightly as he brushed the warm cloth between your inner thighs. “So that happened.” you said, as if you were stating a fact at a business conference. 
“So that happened. Are you happy that it happened?” he asked and you laughed, hiding your face behind your hands. 
“So happy it happened. I wanted this to happen.” you confessed, snuggling into him as he lay down beside you, capturing you in a soft embrace. He kissed the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you tightly, as if he were scared you would let go. 
“You’re a mastermind.” he chuckled, the happiness rushing through you so contagious you wondered if everyone else in New York could feel it. 
You hoped they did. 
You knew they had other plans, other dates and things to stress about, but you hoped just for one second- they could feel the whisper of your giddiness in the wind. It was the kind of giddiness a child got when they ran downstairs on Christmas, seeing Santa had left them one cookie, but enough crumbs so they’d know he was there. 
It was the kind of giddiness you only got when you were with Bucky, in his arms. 
“What’s on your mind?” he’d ask again, later that night when the moon was high, sleep threatening to tug you under its waves. 
And you’d tell him. 
You’d tell him every little thing, about how much you loved him, how much you cared for him- how the feelings you had for him were like no other. And he’d kiss you again, drunk off the taste of you, until your lips were swollen and any worry you had were left far behind. 
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makingqueerhistory · 7 months
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The Male Gazed: On Hunks, Heartthrobs, and What Pop Culture Taught Me about (Desiring) Men
Manuel Betancourt
Featuring deep dives into thirst traps, drag queens, Antonio Banderas, and telenovelas--all in the service of helping us reframe how we talk about (desiring) men--this insightful memoir-in-essays is as much a coming of age as a coming out book Manuel Betancourt has long lustfully coveted masculinity--in part because he so lacked it. As a child in Bogotá, Colombia, he grew up with the social pressure to appear strong, manly, and, ultimately, straight. And yet in the films and television he avidly watched, Betancourt saw glimmers of different possibilities. From the stars of telenovelas and the princes of Disney films to pop sensation Ricky Martin and teen heartthrobs in shows like Saved By the Bell, he continually found himself asking: Do I want him or do I want to be him? The Male Gazed grapples with the thrall of masculinity, examining its frailty and its attendant anxieties even as it focuses on its erotic potential. Masculinity, Betancourt suggests, isn't suddenly ripe for deconstruction--or even outright destruction--amid so much talk about its inherent toxicity. Looking back over decades' worth of pop culture's attempts to codify and reframe what men can be, wear, do, and desire, this book establishes that to gaze at men is still a subversive act.
(Affiliate link above)
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hotyanderedaddies · 2 months
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Yandere Jock wants Nerdy You... Badly
🦦: Hi, it's my first time requesting without anon, so please excuse any awkwardness.
Can I request maybe yandere jock/bully x  extremely anxious male reader with an oral fixation? Only if you want, though.
A/N: I decided to go with jock since I haven’t written that yet. Hope you like it!
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[Yandere! Jock x Anxious! GN! Reader]
·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆
Chase is the captain of the baseball team, and he’s helped lead the team to several victories. He’s an all-star athlete and has scores of girls (and some guys) throwing themselves at his feet. As if his position at the top of the school sports hierarchy wasn’t enough, the young man was also blessed with a pretty impressive body too— muscles for days and coming in well over six feet tall.
And he loves you so much!
But you don’t pay too much attention to Chase because you’re too busy hiding away from everyone due to your extreme social anxiety.
It feels like a curse, really. The mere thought of being trapped in a building (a.k.a. school, *shudder) with a whole bunch of other people who all stare at you and talk about you behind your back is torture!
Hence, you try your best to blend into the crowd and not stand out.
After reading a tip in a mental health article, you resulted to sucking on hard candy when you get stressed out. Your nerves start to climb? You pop a little mint into your mouth and suck on it.
It helps.
And it also garnered the attention of a certain jock.
The mere millisecond that Chase had first seen you popping a piece of candy into your mouth and sucking on it as if your life depended on it, he swore his heart had skipped a beat.
“So cute,” he’d whispered to himself as his eyes honed in on you— focusing on his cute little darling.
He has something else for you to suck on.
And from that moment on, Chase knew you are his.
You just didn’t know it yet. He just had to court you.
Unfortunately, with your social anxiety, that proved to be a little challenge to the lovesick jock.
Chase would frequently wait by your locker for you, trying to strike up a simple conversation that would lead to him asking you out. However, every time you’d see the big guy, you would turn bright red and pop a candy into your mouth, turning around and heading straight for your class instead.
Chase tried to offer you a ride home so that you wouldn’t have to ride the bus— but the idea of one-on-one time in a cramped car with a guy sent shivers down you spine, and you’d barely had time to blurt out, “No thanks!” before sprinting to the bus.
Chase even “surprisingly” transferred into some of your classes. And with one glare at the students sitting next to you, they’d fled, allowing him to take any seat that was closest to yours… but you would refuse to look up from your textbooks, your jaw clenched as you sucked on some hard candy.
But Chase is persistent.
One day, as you’re leaving English class, Chase utilizes his impressive bulk to block the classroom exit from you.
“Hey, Y/N,” he said in his deep voice, trying to act all nonchalant, yet his Adam’s apple quivered when he noticed you sucking on something.
“Oh,” you muttered, your face already growing cherry red, “h-hi Chase.” The exaggerated size difference between you and the jock was striking. He completely towered over you and was at least twice as wide with solid muscle. It really made your heart beat faster, both from fear and a little because you thought it was hot.
You sucked on your candy even harder.
Chase casually leaned against the door jam, crossing his big arms in front of his beefy chest. “So, I was wonderin’ if you’d come see me play tonight?” he asked, playfully flexing his massive biceps, the muscle curling out of his short sleeves with the action.
Your eyes widened, but still, the idea of being in the crowded bleachers with a bunch of screaming, rowdy people wasn’t something you looked forward to.
“Um…” you began, trying to think up an excuse to turn Chase down.
Chase could sense your hesitation, and before you could put two and two together, the large jock reached out and snatched you up. He easily tossed you over his broad shoulder, as if you weighed absolutely nothing.
Chase felt on top of the world carrying you, like this was where you belonged: in his arms.
You were stunned silent, unable to move a muscle while in the strong grip of the large jock, who carried you off towards where you assumed would be the gym…
But Chase passed the gym, and even exited the school, heading towards the parking lot.
“Um, wh-where are we going?” you asked. “I thought you had a game?”
Chase puffed out his chest with pride.
He has you! He finally has you! And he’s not going to let go.
Chase stopped in front of his car, practically tossing you inside.
He quickly ran to the driver’s side, starting up the car and speeding off, taking you, his Darling, home with him so that he can really see your sucking skills in action!
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