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thexsilentxwordsmith · 28 days ago

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: A fight about a rumor, a confrontation, an admission, and suddenly your in the back of your car with no pants on.

Word Count: 4.7 k

Warnings:

“Get back ‘ere,” Lt. Simon Riley’s deep voice bellows angrily at the back of your quickly fleeing head as you storm clench fisted out of his private quarters before it disappears from his sight for a moment as you slam his door behind you so hard that it bounces off the frame and swings back open. He has no clue where you’re off to, but by the direction you’re headed, it looks like you’re going straight towards the parking lot.

God dammit, this isn’t how this is supposed to go. He curses himself for the way his emotions get the best of him sometimes and especially right now.

A mess of heavy breaths and barred teeth, you try to ignore the boot steps barreling towards you from behind. Nothing and no one is going to stop you from getting out of here and away from him, so you keep your face down, eyes staring at the long shadow of your body splaying out in front of you as the sun slips down further to the horizon. When you do finally look up your car is close and getting closer; good. You need to get off this fucking base to calm down before you explode in rage and do something stupid…like put your fist through a wall.

Again the lieutenant calls out your name to your fading figure with no luck and watches as you reach your vehicle without even acknowledging him anymore. It’s no use, you’re gonna take off no matter what he does, so finally he gives up with a loudly growled “fuckin’ hell” in agitation just as you reach out for the handle, storming back into the room with another loud bang as the door shuts and stays closed this time.

The noise makes the tension in your chest ease as you get in the driver’s seat and buckle up; at least he’s decided to actually leave you alone for now. Risking a quick glance back at the bare front of his closed door one more time you harshly turn the key in the ignition and peel out of the parking lot, screeching wheels and a flurry of gravel the only sign of your exit.

“God dammit,” you mutter to yourself under your breath, your knuckles gripping into the steering wheel until they are white as you make your way up to the security booth to get cleared to leave. “What the fuck was that? Christ, he was angry. Has he lost his goddamn mind? Why does he think I have to put up with his shit?”

The guards at the stand can see the fury in your eyes as you roll up to the gate and they are quick to guide you through, not wanting to be on the receiving end of whatever has got you in a mood. They share a look between them after you drive off as somehow it feels like they’ve dodged a bullet, but that relief is short lived as not even ten minutes later the next person to come up to their gate has the same sour expression, except this one is partially shielded inside a jet black motorcycle helmet and black balaclava.

Those eyes though…if looks could kill, the guards know they would have already dropped dead.

“Lieutenant,” one of them nods briskly as the motorcycle comes to a stop and the visor on the helmet is aggressively opened to reveal its occupant, “y-your good to go.”

Simon flips the visor back down with a single flick from his hand and revs the engine on his bike to peel away from the booth like a rocket towards the setting sun, headed in the same direction you had just gone minutes before. Faster and faster he pushes the engine; thank fuck there’s only one way you can go and if he makes sure to speed, he’s confident that he’ll catch up to you quick enough.

And then what? Simon’s anger is still blinding and he hasn’t thought that far ahead. All he knows is that he can’t just leave it like this and until you listen, he isn’t going to give up.

Your eyes are locked on the road, but it feels like you’re driving more by instinct rather than by sight as the only thing you can see right now is red. Simon’s harsh accusations swirl about in your head on repeat; not a good soundtrack to quiet your anger. This is not how you thought this day was going to end.

He had caught you headed back to your barracks and asked to speak. If you knew it was going to be an ambush for him to unload on you about something that was none of his business, you would have done everything to get out of letting him lead you inside his room. He didn’t even give you the chance to get a word in, to defend yourself, just kept spewing his heated thoughts about what he believed you were doing until finally you were able to get out.

If only he knew the truth… whatever, it didn’t matter now. You wouldn’t be kept on a short leash by someone who didn’t care.

You aren’t sure how many miles you’ve gone before you notice a motorcycle driving right behind you. They seem to be glued onto your bumper, keeping pace with you as you switch lanes, and when you make a sudden right and another directly after, they are still behind you and now you’re sure; you know that bike and its rider.

How the fuck did he get behind you so fast?

Simon flashes his lights at you before throwing on his blinker to indicate that he wants you to pull over, but you aren’t on base and don’t feel like following his orders right now. Let him chase after you for a little while more, that’s what he deserves. Who knows, maybe he’ll realize that this is a fucking stupid idea and he should really head back. Wishful thinking; you know him too well to even pretend that he’ll give up when he has his mind set on something.

A few more miles and again he hits his lights; he’s not going to stop following you until you give him what he wants. He knows he came at you too strong before, but he isn’t done with the conversation. He is compelled to put a stop to this before it gets any more out of hand, he has to. One more time, he flashes his lights.

“Really, Simon? I don’t want to fucking do this,” you curse him in a mumble with a scoff. Looking into your rearview mirror, you throw up your hands in defeat to silently indicate you’re ready to get this over with, wherever he decides to take this. It’s almost dark now anyway; you can get this done and then immediately head down to the bar to grab a much needed drink.

Up ahead is the abandoned parking lot of an old grocery store that looks like it has been closed for some time. Simon speeds up to get ahead of you to act as a guide and you throw your blinker on and turn in. He leads you towards the back of the store and away from the street and the traffic; more privacy for you to ‘talk’.

Great, more yelling, you think as you put the car in park before coming to a full stop. You scramble out in a huff and slam the door shut so hard that the windows vibrate.

“What?” you say between gritted teeth, leaning up against your car as you wait for him to get off his bike; you’re gonna make him come to you.

He removes his helmet, setting it carefully on the handlebars before stalking over to where you stand. “I said I wasn’t going to talk about this anymore,” you continue on in the same heated tone, “so why are you following me? What the fuck do you want now?”

“That’s really how you’re gonna talk ta me?” he questions, matching your energy. “I’m still your fuckin’ lieutenant.”

“That’s how I talk to assholes so stick their fucking noses where they don’t belong and then get mad when they don’t like what they find,” you return, crossing your arms across your chest to hide how labored your breathing is from your anger. You don’t want him to know just how much he’s gotten under your skin, even though you know your face is probably giving it all away anyway.

He told himself to stay calm, but there is no helping the emotional reaction he has that causes him to immediately match your energy and the fight picks right back up as if it never stopped. “Oh, is that right?” he growls. “I’m tha asshole? And what the fuck does that make ya, princess?”

“Don’t turn this back on me,” you press the matter. “I didn’t do anything; you’re the one that has the problem. I just don’t understand why you can’t let it go. Do you not have anything better to do than get in my personal life?”

Simon licks his lips behind his mask to keep him from losing the shred of composure he has left. “Better watch it, luv.”

You’re done with him, his attitude, and this conversation. “I will say it again, so maybe you’ll finally get it through your thick skull. What I do in my free time is my business. You have no right to confront me about anything.”

“I think I do,” he returns.

“Why? Because we hooked up a couple of times? That doesn’t give you the right to act like we’re a couple,” you say heatedly. “We agreed that it was we needed at the time to let off some steam, that the couple times it happened meant nothing. Now you’re acting like a fucking child just because I enjoy having company?”

Your blood is boiling now because he’s doing all this without having the facts. This supposed company you are entertaining isn’t even real, it is all a rumor started by a rejected private with nothing better to do, but you aren’t about to tell him that. He doesn’t need to know because it shouldn’t matter; you’re not together, never were, and he has no right to any knowledge about what you do behind closed doors.

This is the type of arrangement he wanted after all, no strings attached. His idea, not yours, so why the possessiveness all of a sudden? After all you had done to make sure your feelings on the matter never got out it only makes you more irate to feel like a caged animal; damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

Because what you really want is standing right in front of you and you can’t have it.

“Ya couldn’t even tell me ya were screwin’ around?” he says, stepping up in intimidation. “Ya don’t think that makes it sound like ya knew it was a problem?”

His entitlement feels like an attack and you won’t stand for it. “You can’t keep me on a leash like this when you don’t even have a claim,” you bark, getting in his face. “You might be my lieutenant, but what I’m doing or not doing outside of military business isn’t for you to worry about. And once again, we aren’t together. Stop acting jealous.”

He stares you down, menacing glare locked to your eyes as his chest heaves up and down exasperatedly. “Neva said I was fuckin’ jealous,” he starts, but you promptly cut him off.

“Yeah, right,” the accusation spills out like acid, finger poking into the middle of his chest. “And the fact you can’t fucking drop it is because you’re concerned, right? Bullshit. But you know what? I don’t care. I promise you, this is the last we will ever speak about it. You hear me? Just leave me the fuck alone.”

You shove past Simon as he stands there silently fuming to walk off somewhere along the building, clearly hoping that he will turn back for the base. His heart is beating out of his chest as he stares daggers into the back of your head…because you actually guessed right. He is jealous and it is eating away at him.

Blinded by his overwhelming emotions, he moves without thinking about the repercussions of his actions. Taking fast steps, he catches up to you as you walk along by the brick wall of the store and takes you by surprise. He reaches out with his large, strong hand and wraps tightly around the back of your neck to pull you backward to him, turn you around, and pin you against the brick by your throat.

Simon blocks your body with the bulk of his, trapping you so you can’t get away again. His grip is firm, but not painful and you look up into his masked face as if trying to read his eyes.

“What are you doing?” you ask, the residual anger pumping through your veins so it’s still in your voice.

There is a pause, more silence, before he speaks. “Handlin’ something,” he says with a growl.

“You clearly can’t handle anything, Simon,” you comment with an agitated chuckle.

“Shut it,” he demands in a harsh bark. “Ya think ya know every fuckin’ thing, don’t ya?” He shakes his head, jaw visibly clenching even behind the mask. “Ya can’t even see what’s right in front ‘a your face.”

Your brow furrows; what the hell is he talking about? His remark catches you off-guard and you stand silently in confusion as you contemplate what the hell he’s trying to say, but he’s gone completely silent, just breathing heavy breaths into your face. Enough, he needs to just spit out so this can end.

“Since I’m so fucking stupid, why don’t you spell it out for me. Stop playing these fucking games with me, Simon.”

Fine, no more games. His skin tingles with the heat from the adrenaline flooding his limbs and all at once everything happens in a flash. Only inches remain between you and in that moment they suddenly feel as wide as the ocean; it makes him ache and the urge to close the distance overwhelms every sense. Reaching towards his face with his free hand his mask is wrenched above his lips before he pulls your head forward by your throat and leans in to catch your mouth with his. The kiss is so full of aggression that it knocks the air out of your lungs.

There is nowhere for you to go, nothing you can do, but hold on as he takes what he wants from your mouth. He steals kiss after frantic kiss as if he has been starved for them, not evening pausing to give you a second to come up for breath.

All that anger that had just been bubbling inside you is redirected and suddenly instead of wanting to push him away you want him as close as possible. Your fingers claw into his shoulders through his leather riding jacket as you try to pull him into you, but they are immediately ripped off as he grabs them and pins the wrists to the wall above your head. Between the breaks in your mouth’s connection, he gasps out the words he should have said back in his room.

“Ya need ta understand. Can’t just have ya a few fuckin’ times and tha’s it. Can’t get enough a ya. Was a goddamn fool not ta speak up sooner. Want ya for myself an’ I don’t share what’s mine. An’ you’re mine, luv,” he gasps into your parted lips, giving your neck a squeeze for emphasis. “Ya hear that? Mine.”

He nips at your bottom lip, sharp teeth cutting into the plump flesh to make you moan at the delicious harshness. God, your desperate sounds are like a drug; he can’t get enough and the more needy you become, the better they get. Pulling back just as you try to go in for more, he stares into your eyes, his gaze darkening within the confines of his mask still clinging to the top half of his face. “Can’t ‘ave anyone else tryin’ to get at what’s mine. Any prick that tries ta take ya away from me, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill ‘im.”

Admission finished Simon’s eyes flutter closed as he dives right back into your lips, this time shoving his tongue into your mouth, parting through your lips as he forces his way in until the muscle has filled you full. It plays against the roof of your mouth and over your tongue, tasting you, devouring all he can like a beast ravenous to take all that it can get.

All that pent up desire being released onto you.

His bulky muscles against your chest crush your body into the wall and you can barely breathe, but you would gladly suffocate if it meant your curves could stay molded into each other like this for longer. Then you feel it, that bulge straining against the zipper of his jeans, and the walls of your pussy involuntarily clench. Suddenly you need it inside you.

As if he has read your mind, Simon wrenches himself from your lips. “Unless ya want me ta fuck ya on the side ‘a this buildin’, get to tha car,” he growls, his voice husky. “Now.”

It only takes a few seconds before you’re both jostling into the back of your car and slamming the doors shut, Simon’s jacket discarded on the ground right outside the door. His massive size takes up most of the cramped interior of the vehicle, but still he manages to maneuver onto his knees over top of you as he lays your back down against the seat. With one hand he undoes your pants, clasp first and then zipper, and pulls them down just under the curve of your ass and forcefully rips them off your legs as he rips his shirt off over his head with the other. The mask is taken with it and all the clothes get tossed somewhere into the floor of the car as he hikes one of your legs up to rest on his broad shoulder.

“Need it,” he says, feverishly kissing down the length to your thigh. “Need ta be inside ya right this second.”

“Yes, Simon,” you whimper as he undoes his jeans and pulls out his cock. It bobs up and down with the beats of his heart and he moans at the sensitivity as he takes it into his hand.

“Ya said I didn’t ‘ave a claim, well I’m ‘ere to claim ya now. But I need ta say it, sweetheart,” he returns as his fingertips hook into the crotch of your panties to pull them to the side before he angles himself against your pussy and starts slipping himself through your petals with agonizingly slow thrusts of his hips. “Say you’re mine.”

You swallow to coat the dryness in your throat. “I’m yours Simon,” you say, but the measured nature of his strokes don’t stop.

“Again.”

The tip of his cock prods against your clit and you whimper at how swollen it is and how much you need something to take the edge off. “I’m all yours Simon!” you whimper so pathetically as the throbbing intensifies the more he repeats the same.

His hand digs harder into your hip as he leans in closer to your face. “I. Said. Again.”

You close your eyes tight, clenching as you pant and gather the strength to reply with everything you have. “Simon, baby, please. I fucking need you so bad. I can’t fucking take it. I swear that I am only yours; there won’t ever be anyone else.”

The heat of his lips near yours makes you shiver. “Look who can’t handle things now,” he says with a smugness that makes goosebumps raise over your skin. “ Now, arch ya back a little more for me.” His command is direct and you follow without hesitation, presenting yourself to him like you are in heat, begging to be filled.

“Fuck sweetheart, jus’ tha thought of ya with anyone else gets me so god damned riled up,” he says with a grunt as he positions himself at your entrance, your panties nearly ripping still laced in his fingers. “No one can ‘ave ya like this ‘cept me. Understand?”

You give him a vigorous nod, praying that soon the agony will end. “No one.” Your repeated words are a plea.

Simon’s heart races at how you say it. “You’re neva’ gonna stray, are ya?”

“No,” you whine.

“Good fuckin’ girl.”

With that he shoves in just the tip through the threshold, instantly feeling the stretch of your core by the girth of it, groaning through a chuckle as you mewl taking him in. He doesn’t give you time to adjust and snaps his hips to thrust all the way down to the base of his shaft. The wind gets knocked out of you, but again he doesn’t pause and the axle of the car creaks as his desperate strokes overwhelm everything from you to the vehicle with the force.

“Ya think anyone else can make ya feel like this?” he asks through gritted teeth as he pounds into you hard and rough over and over again in rhythm. “Some manky bastard gonna make ya moan like this?”

There’s no way you can answer him with how full your mouth is with moans, how numb your mind is as everything in you focuses on the sensation of his thrusts reaching deeper and deeper inside. It only gets worse when he decides that one leg on his shoulder isn’t enough; it needs its twin on the opposite one. From here you swear you can feel him in your stomach with how deep he penetrates.

“Ya think he would even know what ya like? How to play with your clit, how to suck on your tits till you’re vibratin’ and your toes curl?”

How the fuck did he remember all that? You’ve only been together a few times and yet it’s obvious that he’s paid so much attention to detail that he’s memorized everything of those intimate details that make you a mess. As if right on cue his hand slips down between your bodies and parts through your petals to massage the nub at the top of your pussy.

“Ya think I wouldn’t care ta know what ya like?” he asks, the gravel in his voice delicious and yet menacing as you throw your head back and release a loud moan. “How else am I gonna make sure ya belong ta me? I need ta fuckin’ ruin this sweet little pussy so no one else can compare. I wanna be the only fuckin’ thing in that pretty head ‘a yours.”

As if you’d ever have the strength after this to even think of another man that isn’t him. The fictional man that got you into this predicament didn’t even exist and yet somehow you still feel guilty about him. There is only Simon, your Simon, that you can’t get enough of; no one else can ever come close.

The lights in the parking lot kick on just as the last bit of daylight slips under the horizon and you can see now just how fogged up the windows are as Simon rips up your shirt and bra together, stuffing the clothing up around your neck and popping both breasts out of their cage before letting your legs slips from his shoulders to fall and wrap around his hips.

“Can’t forget about these beauties,” he growls before diving in face first and catching one with his mouth.

Hot lips latch on as he braces a hand against the steam-covered window to hold himself steady so that he can continue to pump in and out of your tight hole and play with your clit as his tongue teases the nipple until it’s stiff and you can feel the pleasurable sensation down between your thighs. The moans filling the car come faster and faster as the heat gathering in the pit of your stomach grows. Simon doesn’t even come up for air, just switches sides to play with the other nipple until it too is hard; he wants a matching set before you come and he is gonna get what he wants.

Your thighs squeeze down on his hips as that heat violently gathering in the pit of your stomach starts to come to a head and a devilish idea floods your thoughts. It won’t be long now and your orgasm will be coursing through you, but that’s not enough. If he wants to claim you, he is going to claim all of you…and fill you full.

“Don’t pull out,” you stammer out and he falters in his thrusts.

Simon quickly releases your breast from his mouth.“What did ya say?”

You lock your ankles together tightly behind his back so he can’t escape. “Don’t you dare pull out,” you repeat and he nearly comes right then and there just from how the request makes his heartbeat pound. “God, I’m so close, baby. Please, I need you to come in me.”

Fuck, what a request. How the hell could he possibly refuse? He made a declaration after all and he intends to keep it; he is going to ruin you and he is more than willing to breed you to do it. His hands move to your hips and he buries his fingers in the muscles.

“Then you’re gonna get what ya fuckin’ want, sweetheart,” he says as he strikes up into you with a newfound vigor that makes your body bounce. “You’re gonna take every last goddamn ounce.”

“Right there,” you moan, the pressure euphoric, “stay right there.”

He grunts. “Come for me. Come on my cock. Let me feel that fuckin’ clench.”

He struggles to repeat the same exact movements, his own release about to pop off at any second, but with a bit of effort his hard work pays off and that heat reaches its peak. The tension snaps harshly and tears through you until your body is jerking as you ride out wave after wave of ecstasy.

God, the way your walls are fluttering around him as you let go is heaven and he loses himself in the sensation. All that tight, wet, heat sends tingles through his cock and he can no longer remain sane.

“My pretty girl…” he murmurs, his thrusts slowly getting more sloppy… “mine…” he repeats, nearly there, preparing to make sure you take every ounce of his cum and coat your walls… “all fuckin’ mine.”

That’s it, he can’t take another thrust and with an open-mouthed moan he comes hard. Cum shoots up inside you as he milks himself with your body until he has nothing left to give and kneels there resting inside you. You watch the muscles along his abdomen contract and release as he slowly comes back down from that high.

Such a masterpiece of flesh.

Minutes pass until he feels like he can pull out and he spends that time peppering your lips with tender kisses. Finally he carefully removes your legs from around him and sets them down on either side of his thighs, holding them open so that he can lean back and watch his cum and your slick dribble out of your cunt onto the cushion beneath you. What a beautiful mess he’s made; he can’t stop staring at it as if he’s in a trance.

A visual sign that his claim is finally complete.

“Tha’s a sight that could do me in,” he breathes. “Ya did so good for me, sweetheart.”

He releases your panties so that they fall back into place and you can feel everything starting to gather in the crotch. You sit up and he pulls your face in for one last kiss; you’ve been here long enough that if you don’t get out of here soon it’s gonna draw unwanted attention.

“Now get your ass back ta base and make it quick,” he says as he pulls slowly from your lips, “I want ya in my room, in tha shower; ya got exactly 20 minutes so ya best not stop. I’m not done with ya just yet.”

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fandomnerd9602 · 4 months ago

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All Too Well

Actress!Wanda x Stunt!Reader

Inspired by the film ‘The Fall Guy’

You couldn’t remember what drove you and your girlfriend, the famous actress Wanda Maximoff, apart. Maybe it was the different schedules. Maybe it was the nagging feeling that an actress of her caliber deserved better than a stunt person like yourself.

So you made the biggest mistake of your life and broke up with her. If you could take it all back you would.

It had been four months since you broke up. The stunt industry was hitting a slight lull due to a bigger focus on special effects and deepfakes. So you were shocked when Tony Stark, a good friend and famous director in his own right, called you saying that he needed a stunt person of your caliber to help out on his latest blockbuster.

“You’re gonna love it (Y/N)!” He exclaimed over the phone’s speaker, “it’s the biggest film of my career and I want you for a few stunts. Two weeks, Australia, it’s perfect.”

“Fine.” You huffed, “if it was anyone else, I’d say no but…”

“Yeah yeah never say no to a Stark” even thru the speaker you could tell he was smirking.

So you boarded the overnight flight to Australia. You ran over the stunts via Zoom with Clint and Natasha - the best stunt team in the world. The first big stunt was a motorcycle crash into the bed of a truck while the lead actress rode away on her own. You'd be playing the henchman chasing her that ends up in said truck bed.

You arrived on the set the following day and go your horror, you saw her from a distance. Your ex, Wanda Maximoff. Her back was to you but you knew it was her, her reddish brown locks. You’d know her anywhere. She was talking to some British dude, she seemed happy. It broke your heart, shattered it into a million pieces.

You quickly ducked into a trailer and came face to face with Tony.

“So how was your flight?” He smirked.

“You didn’t tell me Wanda was here!” You whispered-yelled at him.

“You wouldn’t have come if I did.” He shrugged, “listen you’re the best fall person in the business. This movie needs you. And even if she doesn’t know it, Wanda needs you too”

You let your brief anger subside, "so who's the guy? Wanda seems happy"

"That's Vision, her costar"

"Vision?"

"I don't know he's European or something like that" Tony passes you a cup of coffee, "for the jet lag. Your stunt's coming up, Fall Guy"

Tony gives you a wink and heads out of his trailer. You gave it some thought. Wanda did need you. This movie had to be a success. Wanda deserved all the success, all the happiness in the world. And if you can help in some small way, that's all that mattered.

You readied yourself, crash suit, helmet, crash pads, and your sense of danger and confidence. You put down the visor and made your way to the set.

You walked past and saw Vision gently talking to Wanda, "go get it, super star"

Superstar. That was your nickname for her. You boarded your motorcycle and she boarded hers. Tony took his place behind the camera.

"Camera rolling. Speed. Action!"

Wanda revved the motorcycle and took off. You took off after her. You kept the safe distance per the plan.

"And cue motorcycle crash!" Tony called out. Wanda fired her fake gun. BLAM! BLAM! The blanks went off.

You fumbled and crashed right into the crash cushions hidden in the truck bed. Your motorcycle went up and over, according to plan and landed with a crash.

"And cut!" Tony called out. You stumbled and fell onto the street.

Wanda ran up to you, "are you alright?" She didn't even know it was you and yet she still had the same care for a stunt person. You gave her a thumbs up. Wanda's eyes went wide.

"(Y/N)?!" Wanda asked in sheer shock.

You stumbled to your feet and yanked off your helmet. "h-hey Wanda"

"And that was perfect! We're moving on!" Tony called out. The crew grabbed their gear and moved out, leaving you and Wanda staring at one another.

"I can't believe you're here" she shook her head.

"Believe me I'm in the same boat" you shrugged, "you look great"

"its the costume"

"no it's you. You look great in everything. You look good in nothing" you stuttered out.

"Same old (Y/N)" she shook her head and walked away. You could feel her slipping from your grasp yet again.

"Wanda" you called out, "I'm sorry"

She stopped dead in her tracks, "what?"

"I-I'm sorry" you apologized, "you deserved better and it looks like you're on your way to that."

"t-thank you" she whispered out before walking off. Vision approached you with a smile.

"You're (Y/N) (L/N)!" the British actor said, "I hope this is alright but I am such a fan of your stuntwork. I've looked up your reels so many times. Wanda's told me she loved working with you"

"Working. Yeah." you gave him a smile before heading off set, "it was nice meetin' you Vision."

Tony walked by and handed you a set of car keys. "Your hotel's set up on the GPS. The GMC's yours to keep" Tony gives you a genuine smile.

It was dusk. Everyone was readying to head back to their respective lodgings. You found the GMC Tony spoke of. It was GMC Sierra 1500 AT4X, pretty expensive for a little token of Tony's appreciation.

You hopped in, and immediately all your hopes came crashing down. Why did you have to mess it up? Wanda was the best thing you've ever known and now she's got that British actor Vision. All proper and well mannered.

You turned on the truck and out of all the songs the radio could've played, it just had to play All Too Well (Taylor's Version).

'Cause there we are again on that little town street You almost ran the red 'cause you were lookin' over at me Wind in my hair, I was there I remember it all too well

Your head just sunk a little. Your eyes went up and saw her walking with Vision and a couple other actors. She looked happy. How you wanted to be happy with her. Guess you'd have to be happy for her instead.

The memories just came flooding in. Every stolen moment. Every kiss. Every laugh that the two of you shared.

And maybe we got lost in translation Maybe I asked for too much But maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up Running scared, I was there I remember it all too well

Tears just began running down your cheek. You lost her. And you'd never get her back.

Never again would you hold her in your arms. Share cuddle sessions in her trailer. The little brainstorming sessions that you had with her on how she could run a scene. The little stunt practices where she'd smash a prop bottle over your head. The little concern that she'd have only for you to give her your signature thumbs up.

And you call me up again just to break me like a promise So casually cruel in the name of being honest I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here 'Cause I remember it-

Knock! Knock! Knock! A knock at the truck's window stirred you from your thoughts. You turned to find Wanda looking at you. Her brow was fraught with concern. Her eyes still showed the same adoration and care that she had for you on your first shared film.

You rolled down the window. "um...hey" you tried to say.

"were you listening to Taylor Swift and crying?" she asked you.

"It's just how I unwind after a day of stunts" you tried to cover your tracks.

"may I come in?" she asked. You didn't hesitate to unlock the passenger door. Wanda slipped around the truck and got in.

"You never told me why" Wanda whispered. "why did you break up with me?"

"Where do I even start?" you found yourself at a loss for words.

"Just one reason."

"You deserved better. I'm a stunt person, you were on your way to becoming the starlet you are today and I-i..."

"You were an idiot"

"I know."

"I could do without a lot of things. But losing you was the worst feeling I ever went through." Wanda admits.

"I'm sorry, super star" you look her dead in the eye, "I loved you too much. I thought I would hold you back."

"We were in it together" Wanda looks you in the eyes, there wasn't a hint of anger or malice, "I wanted to be your side."

"And I wanted to be by your side too...Vision seems nice. Does he treat you right?"

"What? I'm not dating Vision."

"Wait what?"

"You thought I'd move on that quickly?" Wanda begins to giggle. Her laugh always made your heart beat out of your chest.

"I-I...um...thought so?" you found yourself blushing.

"Maybe we just needed to learn to communicate better" Wanda takes your hand, "do you think maybe we could start over?"

You offered her a genuine smile and held out your other hand, "(Y/N) professional stunt person"

Your favorite actress giggles and shakes your hand, "Wanda Maximoff. Actress and huge fan of Taylor Swift"

The two of you share a little laugh, "I really missed you Wanda"

"I missed you too...Fall Guy"

She leaned in. So did you. The mere touch of her lips sent shocks thru your whole body. How you missed her touch. The two of you became lost in one another. And this time, you'd never let her go again.

'Cause there we are again when I loved you so Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well

Wind in my hair, you were there, you remember it all Down the stairs, you were there, you remember it all It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well

Tony walked by, catching the sight of the GMC's windows beginning to fog up. He caught just the glimpse of you and Wanda kissing softly through the window.

"Mission accomplished" he laughed to himself as he walked to his own car.

THE END

Tags @lifespectator @olsenmyolsen @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @iamnicodemus @iiconicsfan25 @multi-fandom-enjoyer @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @russianredassassin @revanshand @family-house-of-m @holiday-house-of-m @ab1nsur @aloneodi

#marvel #marvel fluff #marvel imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #actress Wanda #actress #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #the fall guy #Spotify

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7s3ven · 6 days ago

Text

Had my Y/N moment yesterday when a motorbike passed me 😻. I was walking to my bus stop bc I wanted to go to the library to study and I heard a motorcycle and I was like “ooh, motorbike” and I jokingly looked at the person as they passed me. Guys, it was a one second look from me AND THEN I SAW THEIR HELMET TURN AS THEY LOOKED AT ME BACK. I was so embarrassed that I hit my head with my hand then I heard their bike rev behind me.

So erm… imagine that with Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley.

Imagine Ghost tatted up and riding a motorbike 😻. You’re like, a third year university student or something and you’re waiting for your bus so you can go to the library to study. You have a fascination with motorcycles (must’ve come from TikTok) and you hear the sound of a motorbike.

You look to your left to see a man with his sleeves rolled up, exposing his tattoos. He’s extremely muscled too. You don’t notice you’ve been staring long enough for him to notice. You can practically see your own reflection in his visor as he drives past, staring right back at you. Your eyes never leave him until he’s out of sight.

You’re extremely flustered after that interaction but you think nothing of it.

The next time you’re waiting at your bus stop, you hear the familiar sound of an engine revving. It’s the same man. Instead of simply driving past you like last time, he actually pulls over and stops.

His visor flies up to expose his eyes. “Noticed you staring yesterday, lovie.” He says, “You single?”

You can only silently nod.

He holds out his phone, “Type in ‘yer number, lovie. ‘M gonna take ya out sometime and you can do more than stare at my tattoos.”

You’re too busy fumbling with his phone to notice the grin on his face.

Ghost picks you up on his motorbike because he knows how much you like it. He polished it just for you. And bought a helmet just for you too.

“How ya doin’, lovie?” He’s sitting on his bike, watching your every move.

The words get stuck in your throat as he loops one finger around your belt to pull you closer. His hands rest on your hips as he stares up at you.

“Hop on and do your best not to fall off. Want my date in one piece.” He laughs at his own joke as you slip the helmet on and sling a leg over his bike. “Hold on, pretty.”

He finds amusement in the scream you let out as he drives off and how your arms tighten around his waist, face pressed against his back.

#ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost cod x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #cod x you #cod modern warfare #call of duty #call of duty x reader

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liillyliilly · 4 months ago

Text

Detective Business

kenji sato x reader words; 7009 synopsis; enemies to friends to lovers- she's a private investigator and he's just ultraman (but she doesn't know that). she also has to deal with that annoying pro baseball player who just won't leave her alone.

Trying to find the identity of Ultraman is no easy job for the Tokyo Investigative Department, but for her? It’s more than finding Ultraman, it's about also finally arresting Kenji Sato for his reckless driving on the highway.

Unfortunately, she’s also a reckless driver. Which is why Kenji Sato was folding his arms and frowning while she pulled out a pad of ticket paper from under her motorcycle’s seat. The rain was dripping on her helmet and Mr. Sato’s white shirt was getting soaked through.

“I just think I shouldn’t be getting a ticket, Officer.”

“I’m not an officer, I’m a private investigator under contract with the department. Don’t lump me with them.” She bites the pen cap off and starts writing a ticket for him clocking in at around 170 kilometers per hour.

“You don’t even have a radar detector, so the only way you know I was speeding is because you were too.” Kenji kicks off from the wall of the divider on the highway. He inspects her motorbike slowly, dragging fingers over the dashboard and the mirrors. The key in her ignition is black, with a small baseball keychain, he notes this and keeps it in mind.

She grins, “As I said, I’m not a policeman.” She lowers her voice a little, “My bike isn’t factory tuned like theirs are.”

He groans, upset at her for giving him the ticket. But also because she intrigued him more than most people did. MINA spoke into his helmet, reminding him about the Kaiju raging in Sendai. He shushes MINA’s comments.

She scoffs, assuming that the shush was for her. She shoves the ticket into his chest, accidentally soaking up some water that was drenching his t-shirt.

“If you want to fight the ticket, go to Courthouse 5 in Tokyo at 9 am on Wednesday. A representative from the department will have all my notes from this. And Mr. Sato, please drive safely, it’s raining. Hydroplaning is no joke.”

“I’ll drive safely if you drive safely, Officer.” He laced the title with some grittiness, the kind of tone that grinds her gears.

“I’m not an officer. I’m-”

“A private investigator, yes I know, you’ve told me three times before. Since you’re the only one who can actually clock me going above the speed limit.” He rolls his eyes, “Same time next week Officer?”

She sighs, putting the visor of her helmet down. When she gets onto her bike, kicking up the stand and revving her engine, Kenji teases her and blows an overdramatic kiss in her direction where she can clearly see it in her mirrors. She brings her hand up to throw him a middle finger, he earnestly returns the gesture.

The road is empty now, and she’s far enough away to not recognize Kenji using his willpower to morph into Ultraman, needing to get to Sendai soon according to MINA’s instructions.

MINA speaks into his audio system, “You really should listen to her. She’s smart. Safe driving is critical in the rain Ken.”

“MINA, I love you, but please shut up.”

She never liked arrogant people. Maybe because she was arrogant herself? But the real reason for arrogance is that it masks the reality behind the person, it’s a cover for something more futile and undeniably human. Arrogance acts like a shield holding back a person from revealing too much. For her, arrogance defended against her ideals. The world could be changed to be better. Peace is well within a grasp. That ideal, that dream of what the world could be is hidden and buried deep within her. To cover for it, arrogance does a great job biting into people she meets.

It’s a good thing her best friend was always there for her. Ito Yuuta, rookie of the year and a new addition to the Yomiuri Giants baseball team. He was one of the first round draft picks, immediately getting sweeped into the team. So there she sat with Yuuta, while he threw pitches in the baseball cage, her talking about his teammate with disdain.

Yuuta clocked in some high speeds, and was extremely sweaty. His shoulder was killing him, but practicing as often as possible was a new priority if he wanted to be utilized and get off the bench for this season.

“I don’t understand how you can play on a team with a guy like that.” She chews a piece of licorice, a guilty pleasure snack that she was addicted to. Yuuta steals a piece and sits next to her.

She’d met Kenji before, in circumstances where she wasn’t giving him a fine for speeding down highways. When her friend got scouted, she met the members of his team at a mixer. Kenji Sato just didn’t seem to play nicely with his teammates. When Yuuta had initially introduced himself, Kenji had given him a signed baseball card, saying something about how selling it would be worth something.

After hearing that story, which Yuuta laughed at and gladly embraced as a characteristic of Kenji’s behavioral traits, she just furrowed her eyebrows and puckered her face. It rubbed her the wrong way for someone to act like that. But she couldn’t control the roster of the Giants’ team.

“He’s a great player. You’re just too tied up in your whole ‘I’m a harbinger of justice and righteousness’ to see that there are people out there with the exact same personality as you.” Yuuta drinks some water and throws a sweaty towel on her, which she tosses back to him in disgust, “Come to a game, watch him play, maybe then you’ll join a fanclub other than mine.”

She clicks her tongue to her teeth, bouncing her knee in consideration. Yuuta let the whole Kenji Sato thing go, and instead just invited her to come watch him play in the most upcoming game.

He had her try to throw a ball, how to raise her leg just enough, bringing her arm and hand back just enough. While he was adjusting the length of her arm and the angling just so, none other than Kenji Sato walked into the baseball gym. He slinks over to the pitching cage and watches for a moment, the rookie member of his team sliding his hands over Kenji’s pretty private investigator. He just had to make a comment, right?

“You should move her hips a little to the left while you’re at it, Ito.” She jumps a little at his voice, dropping the ball. It rolled over to Kenji’s foot through the wire fencing around the cage, he reached down and picked it up from under the cage. Throwing the ball up a little, analyzing it. Ito accepts the help, and uses his hands to twist her hips just a smidge.

She couldn’t help it that she was ticklish. A brief laugh escapes her, and she chokes when she sees Kenji stare right at her. Except it wasn’t at her face, rather where Ito’s hands began to slide up to her waist to tickle her a little more. Kenji presses his lips into a line, tossing the ball over the cage.

Ito yells out a quick thanks and Kenji waves his hand while walking to the locker room.

She throws the ball that Kenji had returned to her. It clocked in at around 128 KPH. Yuuta lets out an approving hum in reaction to the speed of her fastball. She does a little spin and flexes her arms to show off her natural talent. It’s a good thing the locker room had TVs that showed camera footage from all the baseball cages. Kenji laughed at her silliness while he was watching on the screen, tightening his shoes.

A few days later, at the Tokyo Police Station, she’s getting briefed on the newest details of the Ultraman case. It’s all things she’s heard before, and they were no where closer to uncovering the true identity of Japan’s biggest hero. Biggest hero, her ass, more like the biggest vigilante who runs around fighting Kaiju and also destroying the structural integrity of Japan’s cities.

All the secretaries and computer techs loved Ultraman, all the mugs in the kitchen area were Ultraman themed to prove it.

She spins around in her chair, listening to the Head of the Detective Department drone on in his monotone voice.

“Which is why I’ve decided to reach out to the KDF in helping us.”

Now, that was something she did not like. The KDF were brutalistic, inhumane, and quasi-militaristic. It was like their organization ran on the idea of killing out the entire Kaiju race with no concern for the theories and realities that Kaiju could actually help the world. If only people actually did their research and showed patience with the dedicated scientists who worked tirelessly to find out more about Kaiju.

She would prefer Ultraman to the KDF anyday. Ultraman at least gave the Kaiju respect, and he always seemed to guide them in certain directions once he got them to the ocean. Almost as if he was releasing the beasts to their homeland.

“No way. The KDF are horrendous. They treat Kaiju like pests that need to be destroyed. Any sort of information they have on Ultraman’s identity is sure to be unethically obtained.” She raised her concerns, looking to her fellow coworkers for support in backing her statement. They just lowered their heads when faced with her stare.

“Miss. You’re just a private investigator, all you need to do for us is follow instructions and see where our leads take us. And, you’re one to talk about ethically obtaining evidence, we all know your little tricks.”

She bites her tongue, leaning back into her chair. She had three more months of working for the police and then she could go back to discovering cheating husbands and trailing drug cartels for the other government departments. At least when she was doing that she wasn’t at risk for getting crushed underfoot by a superhero or getting lasered by KDF robots and fighter pilots.

Her boss puts a hand on her shoulder, picking away a piece of lint before going back to the head of the table.

“You’ll meet with a KDF representative, take detailed notes, follow the trails you find, and then report back to me. Do you understand?”

She mumbles.

“What was that?”

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

That night, she had to put on dressy clothes for the dinner with her KDF intelligence personnel. On the phone with Yuuta, she’d gotten appraised when she slid on a tight black number, “Damn! I thought you only had jeans and black shirts in your closet. Maybe I’ll have to ask you on a real date and not just the baseball banquet in two months.”

She held her head in her hands, while her elbows rested on her desk, phone sat up against her water bottle. Yuuta put the back of his hand against his forehead, giving a playfully deep sigh as he got a view of her cleavage. She rolled her eyes at Yuuta’s behavior, but still felt slightly proud at her ability to clean up nicely.

“Bye Yuuta, I’ll text you later.”

He waves to the camera, holding up a peace sign before finally ending the call.

The restaurant is dimly lit, live jazz music ebbs and flows throughout the building. Tables have white and black cloth laid out, and there’s an overabundance of marble decor. The KDF employee couldn’t have been younger than forty, but the salt and pepper hair did add an appeal she didn’t expect.

He pulled out her chair for her, and had the waiter take her order first. She sipped some water, not wanting to feel buzzed at all from alcohol. He was nice enough, just making some small talk before they got into the real meat of why they were there.

“We have intel that the ‘Hero’ is likely a sporting figure. We’re leaning towards baseball, due to the popularity of the sport. Also, based on audio recordings, he spent time abroad, using a mixture of slang and an American accent to color his lived experiences.” He downs his beer when he finishes the bulk of his information.

She jots the main points down on her notepad. In between sips of water, and bites of her pasta dish, she finds herself quickly making trails and thinking of all the roads she could go down to find Ultraman. When all the information is expressed, she leans back in her chair, waiting for the waiter to come back so she could pay for her meal.

When twenty minutes elapse, she says she’ll go looking for their server so they can leave. He nods, finishing off his fish and chips.

Turning the corner, she bumps into a solid wall. Except, the solid wall lets out a short ouch. It’s Kenji. Despite trying to clearly cover something up, his suit only goes so high on his neck. There’s black and blue bruises canvassing his face and neck, she glances and sees that there’s marks on his hands as well.

“What happened to you?” She reaches out instinctively to touch his cheek where there’s a dark purple bloom from the peak of his cheekbone to right above his jawline. He whines when she makes contact, but eases up when her warm hands soothe the flow of blood beneath his skin.

“You should see the other guy.” He remarks. In response she just scoffs a little, dropping her hand even though he wishes she would’ve just kept it there.

Soon, the salt and pepper KDF member finds her, “Hey, you need to come back.” He waves his card in the air for a moment, letting her know she needed to pay. He motions for her to hurry and come, and Kenji feels appalled. She nods, but Kenji furrows his eyebrows.

“What kind of man makes his date pay?” His voice is scratchy, and only she can hear him.

She puts a hand on his chest, “It's not a date, it’s business.”

Kenji nods, letting his hand graze hers as it slides down his chest. What once was, no longer is.

When the much older man puts a hand on the small of her back, his jaw clenches reflexively. He twitches in pain when he realizes he pulls the muscles where he’d taken a massive hit from the most recent Kaiju attack. At least he’d managed to make the fight only last around thirty minutes. The quickest fight of the year.

His legs were crossed, bouncing his foot that rested on his knee. He used his chopsticks and prodded at his noodles. His private table was hidden in a nook, with a bamboo room divider separating him and the world. Appetite crushed and meal soggy, Kenji pursed his lips slightly. Contemplation could only last for so long.

Pushing his plate away from him, he leaves a stack of bills on the counter. Stalking away to steal one last glance of her. He saw her hair, the curve of her spine, and heard the click of her shoes as the entrance to the restaurant came to a close.

What kind of business did she have, and more importantly who was he to think about what she was doing? The whole internal monologue was getting tired quick, especially when his thoughts had become plagued with her. Everytime he dished his attitude out for her, she served it right back and with her own additions and special spices.

He’d need some sort of counseling. And soon. But did he really?

She was committed to following the outline of details that the KDF personnel had given her. But she just kept running into Kenji Sato and didn’t get anywhere far with her approach.

At first she had tried to study all the baseball teams that had the quickest reaction times to a Kaiju attack. Each time she attended another game, with her hoodie pulled over her head and hands in her pockets, she just saw people running all around trying to escape the stadiums. Not optimal when a person is trying to go towards the danger instead.

A man had narrowly clipped her shoulder, she kept pressing forwards to get to the field. The Kaiju was on the outskirts of the stadium. If Ultraman really was a baseball player he would’ve appeared in the field from where the players had been. Her line of reasoning was that going down to the field and having her camera ready was the optimal discovery technique.

“What are you doing? You need to get away from the Kaiju, not run toward it?” Kenji, still in his Giants uniform, grabbed her by the arm pulling her further away from the baseball diamond. The Kaiju began to stomp away from the stadium. She groaned, ripping her arm away from Kenji.

“Leave me be.” She tried to go toward the center of the field again.

“You have a death wish and I will not be granting it.” He thwarts her plans and gives her the keys to his motorbike when they get to the parking lot, the Kaiju’s roar rumbles lowly from a distance in the eastward direction. “Get on the bike. I swear to the gods, get on the bike.”

She turns the key, and starts the engine. Kenji goes back to the stadium, leaving her to try and track down all the players from the game today who had already left the stadium, maybe following one of them would lead to the Ultraman reveal. An hour later, the Kaiju was back in the water leaving Japan behind. Ultraman’s face and video footage rang through the screens in the streets. She tossed her camera in the air, annoyance clear on her face.

That was the third time that month that Kenji had done something like that, found her trying to go towards the danger instead of avoiding it, and each time he pushed her away and told her to leave.

It was starting to annoy her more and more intensely that she still couldn’t catch a baseball player turning into Ultraman. Why did there have to be so many baseball games, and why were there so many players on every team?

Yuuta had invited her to a practice match between the Giants and a team from Singapore that had flown in for the friendly. She obliged him, thinking that she could narrow down her list of baseball players better if a foreign team was playing as well. It was around mid-game, and she didn’t expect another Kaiju attack so soon after the last one. Alarms blared and the ground rumbled.

This Kaiju was dark green, scaly, and looked a lot like a water monitor, with fangs like a rattlesnake. The size of it was smaller than most, and it slithered around instead of standing. It lunged at one of the lights in the stadium, and she was shaking against her intentions to remain resolved.

She supposed now was as good a time as ever to see an Ultraman transformation. Except maybe, getting too close to the creature was a bad idea. Yuuta had screamed at her for getting to the field, but he couldn’t stand in and do anything when the tail of the Kaiju knocked her off her feet and she landed on her arm roughly.

Kicking off with her feet, she kept trying to backtrack, elbows bloody and pain shooting through her shoulder. Now she was worried for her life, especially when the Kaiju slinked around the dirt and grass, getting a little too close to the catcher’s area, where she sat. Dirt coated her clothes, and she felt iced into her position.

She closed her eyes for a second, preparing for the worst.

Ultraman always saves the day in the end. The snake-like monster was curling itself around the arm of Ultraman, he shook his arm but the lizard stayed firmly in place. He flung his arm, and to her shock, the snake flew away, Kaiju genetics and formation letting it slither in the air. The Kaiju made its way to the coastline, and the harm was successfully resolved.

The audio muffling voice was just human enough to remind her to come back to her senses. The voice and of course, a huge presence kneeling in front of her would bring anyone back.

His hand was the size of her whole body, maybe even bigger.

“Do you need medical attention?” Ultraman stuck out a finger and she pulled herself off the ground by leveraging her weight and the arm that she hadn’t landed on.

“No, probably just some regular first aid.” She lifts her head up to try and make eye contact, that could be another clue.

When there’s no movement from either of them for a moment, he stutters something out yet none of the words make any sense. Fainting when she sees the Kaiju come back might have been her stupidest biological instinct.

Yuuta sits by her bedside table, snoring. Rubbing her head, she turns on the TV to see what happened after she lost total consciousness.

Ultraman had picked her up and set her somewhere safe while fighting the beast, headlines declaring another day safe because of his intervention. As much as she wants, she can’t roll her eyes.

Maybe there’s more to a superhero than meets the eye.

“Well folks we have it here, the championship game. We have the Giants pitching first and the Pumas at bat. Pitching for the Giants is an upstarter by the name of Ito Yuuta, or as the new fans like to say, the Michelangelo of pitching. And I can’t say I disagree with them, I mean his form is so natural and smooth.” The other announcer elbows his companion in the stomach, “And for the Pumas we have American Clint Wilks ready to bat.”

She sits in her seat, the same one Yuuta had reserved for her so many times before. She has her camera filming her friend, his first pitch he wanted filmed in slow motion, and then the rest he wanted normal speed. Something about wanting tons of content for the promotional manager to work with at various angles. Her phone camera wasn’t the best, but she made it work. And Yuuta had always been satisfied with the videos she sent to him.

When the batter manages to skim the edge of Yuuta’s first pitch she groans a little. The ball was recovered quickly, but Yuuta wasn’t shaken up at all. His next two pitches were seamless, going straight to the catcher in the blink of an eye. She cheers.

Disconnecting from the game for a moment, she scrolls on her phone, she may have enjoyed baseball, but it was Yuuta she only really came for. Yuuta and Kenji that is. Her other camera, her private investigation camera laid safely in her backpack. Should another Kaiju attack happen today she might need an early retirement, especially considering how the last run in had altered her.

It had been a while since she had caught Kenji Sato late at night, ignoring the speed limits with an overwhelming sense of confidence and ability. Maybe the lesson had finally set in, the fifth ticket may have been overkill.

When she hears the announcers say that Ken Sato is out of commission for this championship game due to injury, her ears burn. Now this was a quick mystery that needed to be solved. She had seen him in the pit, yelling with his teammates and jeering at the opposing team. But he hadn’t been quite all there, like his brain was in another body and a robot had filled in for him. When the announcement had been made that Kenji wasn’t going to play, he excused himself and left his team. She noticed that he had been rubbing his arm with a grimace.

The locker room would hold all the answers to her questions she supposes. Yuuta wasn’t going to pitch again for the rest of the game, already knocking out so many strikes in one game. She remembered how Yuuta had told her to get to the additional secret door to the locker room.

Getting into the locker room was easy, seeing Kenji Sato in his current state of undress was the hard part.

She couldn’t say much but let out a small squeak to disclose her presence in the room. Kenji finished pulling up his grey sweatpants, and coughed into his elbow to diffuse any sort of discomfort.

“Uh, sorry. My bad.” She tapped her forearm, keeping her arms locked into a folded position.

“It’s, um, it’s all good. Ito’s still at the diamond, I’m the only one here right now…” He trailed off.

Seeing the full expanse of his injuries across his torso and chest, she feels her heart sink. He’d come up closer to her, shutting his locker and almost circling her to study her. Initially, upon her walking in, she had seen him scrutinize the various marks across his body. His entire length of his arm was purple, almost like it had been wrapped in a rope that had been tightened too many times.

“Is your current partner an abuser?” She bluntly asks.

Kenji’s eyes open wide, “No, I’m not dating anyone right now.”

It was her turn for her eyes to go wide, in addition to extreme heat tingeing her skin and sweat starting to build up. Her assumption was that of a hired sort of company making those marks then. Surveying her reaction, Kenji knows what her best guess may have come down to.

“I also don’t make a habit of hiring escorts. Or any sort of paid companionship.” He swallows thickly. All his attempts to mitigate the tension in the room had absolutely failed. He tries another angle, “I’m glad that you care enough to ask though.”

She laughs at that.

“I guess I do care at least a little. It’d be a shame if you died by hooker, especially since I’ve spent so many hours giving you tickets in an attempt to save your life.”

They settled into their dynamic. Friends, but not quite friendly. Kenji wouldn’t call them enemies either, not when he held her too close to his heart. But her barely concealed occasional animosity did harbor some sort of anger or hate toward him that he’d just have to brush that aside while he categorized their relationship.

Their dynamic was hued by an innate sense of connection, but layers of social conditioning and abrasiveness between the two had deemed their magnetism a fluke.

Maybe that’s why he asks her to come to the baseball banquet with him despite being half naked in the middle of the locker room.

“I’ve already told Yuuta I’d go with him.” She shifts her weight between her feet, trying to remain balanced in spite of the extreme uneasiness that ran through her.

“I got him a replacement date.”

Her eyebrow raised at his slight supplication, he continued, “Ito told me he’d tell you soon. Guess I beat him to the remark.”

The awkward chuckle he lets escape makes him wish that he was anywhere but here. He’d take a monstrous Kaiju wanting to bite his head off then be faced with a rejection like this. Would it even be considered a rejection? He just asked if she wanted to be his date to the championship banquet. He chews the inside of his mouth, it would definitely be a direct rejection if she said no.

The crowd roars and tells the both of them that the banquet will in fact be for the Giants winning and not a solemn affair telling everyone to prepare for the next season.

“Okay. I had already cleared my weekend for the banquet anyway.” She wrings her hands out, twisting and playing with each of her fingers.

“Sounds great. It should be fun, you know, since we just won.”

She turns to leave the locker room, before turning on her heel.

He finishes putting his relaxed Giants jersey on, slightly stunned to see her still in the locker room.

“I’ll need your number, so you can tell me what to wear.” She pauses, unsure of what else he’d need to inform her of.

“And so I can let you know when I’ll pick you up, and where to pick you up.” He starts listing off items, using his fingers to keep track.

“Yeah, all that stuff.”

He gets her number, sending a short ‘hi it’s ken’ text. She feels the pull to exit again. But has to let one last thing off her chest.

“I’m not calling you Ken. You’ll always be Kenji to me.” He pushes down a smile, but she continues her word salad that climbs out of her mouth without much censorship. “Too many tickets written out in your full first name for me to call you anything else.”

“We’ll go with that then, Officer.”

She sticks her tongue out at him before finally trekking out of the baseball changing room.

To- Officer Cutie 💎🌟 : i’m sending you a dress, this is your size right?

ATTACHMENT: 1 Image

To- KENJI SATO 🚨🏍️: How did you know my size? Also you know I can buy my own clothes for a banquet right?

To- Officer Cutie 💎🌟: lemme do my own thing

To- KENJI SATO 🚨🏍️: fine then mr. bossy pants

To be fair, the dress really was gorgeous. Silver with red detailing, although the slit wasn’t quite an expected feature of the dress, coming up to above her mid thigh. The straps of the dress had an almost pearl beading which contrasted nicely with the deep blood shade of the red throughout the dress.

“You know, if my date saw you she’d wonder why I was going with her and not you.” Yuuta teases, because he does genuinely feel excitement for who he was going with, a reporter by the name of Ami Wakita. She does a spin for Yuuta in her phone camera.

“I don’t know all the way though, the colors remind me of something I can’t quite put a finger on.”

She can see Yuuta grabbing his phone and searching on Google due to the angle of his forehead that she was now enduring. When Yuuta laughs, she knows she might be in for some sort of practical joke from Kenji.

Yuuta sends her a photo of Ultraman.

“Damn him to hell. We’re going with an Ultraman theme.” She drags her hand down her face in irritation.

The black Mercedes-Benz he drove to pick her up in was definitely an appreciated touch. He was wearing a silver suit with a red button up underneath. At least they matched really well.

The banquet looked expensive. It smelt expensive. It sounded expensive. With draping fabrics hanging off of tall columns in the cream and gold shades of the Giants logo and uniforms. The bouquets of dense floral scents carried throughout the event center, and the fresh scent of pastries and cooked steaks also added to the aromas floating around the air. Clinking glasses, clicks of heels, laughs that sounded like they were dripping in a blend of nepotism and celebrity status.

Kenji and her are at a table with some of the older members of the Giants team. Kenji isn’t amused with the questions they pester the pair of them with. She wittily responds to each glaring comment that had intended to poke deeper and deeper.

The speeches awarding the team and celebrating the momentous win aren’t bad, just bland. Each time a server comes around with glasses of wine, or champagne, or shots, she grabs one and starts sipping. Kenji sticks to just water and some glasses of juice. He mentions that he’s the one driving so he’d rather not get black out drunk. She chuckles sarcastically.

While they don’t talk to each other too much, he does keep a hand on her thigh or knee for most of the night. Which in turn may have been the cause for her to keep getting drinks.

Eventually, as to be expected, the banquet shifts from an event of elegance into a slight rager. Music transitions from classical to club style hip hop and R&B. She keeps nodding off, much to Kenji’s amusement. He couldn’t imagine accidentally falling asleep when the noises around the building were booming and thunderous.

They sit at the table, the only ones left not on the dance floor. Kenji doesn’t mind, especially with how she keeps nodding off and blinking her eyes to try and stay awake regardless of how the alcohol weighs her cognizance down.

“Hey, pretty girl, you keep falling asleep.” Kenji rubs her back, his fingers touching the bare skin exposed from the back of her dress. His hands aren’t cold, they’re far from it, a warmth blossoms from them, springing forth a desire to feel the heat wherever she has exposed skin.

Mumbling, she says something about his observational skills, a ‘Captain Obvious’ is thrown in there somewhere along a line of insults. She keeps trying to rub the sleep away with the back of her hand.

“Ready to go?” She shakes her head yes and lets him guide her out to his car.

It really was the only solution. She was already asleep in his car, and he didn’t know which key was the one that opened her apartment door.

“MINA, can you please change the temperature of my room to 68 degrees? Keep the pillows cold, but make the blankets warmer.”

MINA adjusts the requested temperatures. Kenji lets her take his bed, opting to sleep in one of the guest rooms in the Ultrabase. He sets out a pair of sweatpants and a sleeveless sleep shirt. He puts a hand on her leg, moving it so she’d wake up a little.

“Pajamas are here, I’ll be down the hall if you need anything. I got water and some pain relievers on your side table.” She murmurs in response, her face in the pillows. He puts a lid on the water cup, and turns off the light as he shuts his bedroom door.

She hardly recalls that she changed into the comfiest pajamas she’s ever worn, but she did remember drinking the whole glass of water and swallowing the pain pills. Waking up was surprisingly pleasant though, a perfect mixture of cold and warm coated her senses. She freezes for a moment, remembering how last night had unfurled. With her embarrassing herself by drinking way too much and getting sleepy probably much earlier than Kenji had expected.

A good private investigator would study and analyze each item in a person’s bedroom. An even better private investigator would do all that and make fun of what she could. That’s why she’s considered the best in the business.

The room is relatively bland, but pictures of a pink Kaiju stand out to her. It looks like a dragon, but it’s so adorable she had to stop herself from using her phone to take a picture of the Kaiju. There’s a family photo, and oh, his dad is Professor Sato? The Kaiju whisperer? That’s intriguing to her but she keeps lurking around.

Once she examines his room enough, she leaves the room and goes out to discover further.

The smell of fresh fruit and possibly waffles draws her out further and further from the hallway of bedrooms and bathrooms.

Kenji talks to MINA, asking for help in making the waffles actually edible and not burnt. MINA offers to cook them for him, but he says he can do it and wants to make them himself. MINA rereads the instructions for the waffle maker. He’s wearing plaid bottoms and a black tank top. She admires his arms for a moment before shaking herself out of the slight daze.

She keeps looking around. Until she finds something particularly interesting, she checks that she’s still out of his line of sight and she touches a few of the buttons on what looks like a computer keyboard. Except the buttons vary in shape and size instead of being uniform and sequential.

Falling back a little from the bright holograms she gasps. Kenji whips his head around and drops a spoon that had batter all over it onto the floor.

The holograms display various scenes of Ultraman, and Kenji. Of Kenji turning into Ultraman, of Ultraman transitioning back into Kenji. Of Kenji with the pink Kaiju, of Ultraman with the pink Kaiju. Of Kenji and his dad studying the Kaiju. Of Ultraman playing baseball with a huge bat. Of Kenji messing around with various Ultraman maneuvers and martial arts styles.

She turns her head to Kenji, now exposed from her perching site away from his view. He glances his eyes in all directions. He hiccups and laughs forcefully. He can’t even say a simple, let me explain. It’s just all too clear.

“Whoops?” She offers.

He pushed a bowl of fruit in her direction, she was sitting across from him at the dining table.

“No one can know.”

She keeps blinking and eating another piece of fruit as she processes the whole thing. Almost like a fish, she keeps opening her mouth but then closing it without ever saying a word. She downs a glass of orange juice that he gives her.

“So, you’re Ultraman.”

He shrugs.

“All those times I saw you bruised and injured? Ultraman?” She rubs her temple, trying to make sense of it all.

“For most of the time, yes. I did fall off my bike once.”

“I’m going to have to quit my job.” She deadpans. “If they knew that I knew, but didn’t tell them, I’d be hunted and killed.”

Kenji drops his fork that has a slice of mango on it.

“Not literally, but I’d definitely be tortured for what I know.” Finishing off her fruit, she lets out a deep exhale, and makes eye contact with Kenji. He taps on the table for a moment before exchanging her thoughts for his own.

“I hate to admit this, but that would literally be my worst nightmare because I unfortunately like you a lot.”

She suspends all sense of reality for a moment, also ignoring his confession to her, “Kaiju Island is real?” He nods. “I want to go and see it. I want to see the Kaiju.”

So they go and see the Kaiju.

When Kenji introduces her to Emi, a toddler Kaiju, she stands stunned but amazed at the mystical energy of it all. She considers dropping her career as a private investigator and instead studying a course in Kaiju Sciences. She sees a wide variety of other Kaiju, Kenji making sure she stays a safe distance away from anything that could potentially be too dangerous.

The whole day is spent asking and answering questions. From Ultraman to Kaiju, from KDF to Tokyo Metropolitan Police. He’s aware of what the KDF knows about him now, and he’s grateful to know where to start burying tracks for them.

The beach is pretty in the evening. The way pink and orange dance along the glimmering ocean waves. The way the sun hits Kenji’s eyes just right and makes them look like a vibrant purple. His black earrings almost turn into inky ebony gems.

“This is actually amazing.” She exhales the words she’s been holding in during the entire exposure to this alternate universe that coexists with hers.

He speaks without thinking, something he believes he really should start working on, “You’re amazing.”

“Even with all my sharpness?”

“That’s your whole appeal.” He leans in, giving just enough space for her to back out.

She doesn’t lean away. He dives in.

He doesn’t bother with any brushes of their lips, going straight for an open mouth exchange. She’s the one who grazes her tongue in his mouth first though, leaving him wanting more, needing more, an appetite needing to be satiated with her touch.

He’s leaving a path of heavy kisses over her face to her neck, sucking on the skin as he licks under her jaw. The way her skin tastes should be studied he muses, using his hands to pin her to the sandy bank by her waist. Her hands were too busy fiddling with his earrings and hair to let him pin her by the hands.

The hums he has in his throat make her want to hear what other sounds he can make. Maybe biting his bottom lip was her best option after all because as soon as her teeth came into contact with the puffy skin he shudders and it’s like music to her ears.

He has to lift himself up and off her, out of breath and panting heavily. He pulls her up with him once he’s sitting back down.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first time you cussed me out for almost swerving into you when I was speeding.”

She pauses, letting him intertwine his fingers with hers, he sets the joined hands on his thigh, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand in order to brush some sand off of her.

“That was a while ago.”

“Yeah, so now you know how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

She pushes his shoulder that was right up against hers. He recoils, and she thinks that he might be sore from fighting a Kaiju. So she goes to apologize when he stops her before she can get any words out.

“I think I deserve an apology kiss.”

“What a faker.”

She rolls her eyes but gives him another kiss.

The headlines the following weeks put the world into a tizzy.

PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR QUITS TOKYO POLICE IN A FURY

EX-TOKYO POLICE INVESTIGATOR EXPOSES KDF BRIBING GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS

KAIJU AREN’T ALL BAD: THE KDF GENOCIDE SCANDAL

KENJI SATO, WHO’S YOUR GIRL?

ITO YUUTA NAMED GIANTS VICE CAPTAIN UNDER KENJI SATO’S CAPTAINSHIP

NEW KAIJU RESEARCH AND SCIENCE RELEASED BY PROFESSOR SATO

EXCLUSIVE ULTRAMAN INTERVIEW: HE’S OBSESSED WITH KENJI SATO’S GIRLFRIEND

#ultraman rising #ultraman x reader #ultraman #kenji sato x reader #kenji sato #ken sato #ken sato x reader #private investigator #identity reveal #ito yuuta multiverse #lilly's red string of fate

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cre8inghavoc · 3 months ago

Text

Can’t help it…

Part 4

inumaki x f!reader

pairing: inumaki x f!reader

summary: Transferring to a new school is tough, but having your three best friends there makes it easier. Things get even more interesting when you start falling for the mysterious boy who rides his motorcycle to school every day. What will happen next?

genre/warnings: [18+] Characters are aged up. Story contains cursing, new friends, alcohol, college!au, no curse!au, dark humour, SMAU and written parts, fluff, smut.

You both walked out of the restaurant and then suddenly you turned around so quick, Inumaki's confusion was evident as he nearly ran into you, his concern growing as he saw the upset expression on your face. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

You couldn't contain your frustration (you weren't really upset though just surprised), and blurted out, "What's wrong?! You literally paid for both our meals when I told you I was going to pay for mine! Why would you do that?"

Inumaki's expression softened as he realized your distress. "Just wanted to treat you ," he explained, as he smirked.

"I know you wanted to be nice, but I just feel bad," you admitted, your voice softening. "You didn't have to do that, Inumaki. I appreciate it, but I want to be able to take care of myself too."

Inumaki's gentle touch as he placed the helmet on your head sent a shiver down your spine. The way he held it, almost as if he were cradling your face, made your heart flutter. Then, he gently nudges your helmet in a playful way.

"Don't be silly. Let's head back before we're late for class."

"Yeah," you agreed, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as his gaze locked onto yours. Your visor was still open, allowing you to see the warmth and sincerity in his eyes, and for a moment, it felt like time stood still.

With a silent understanding passing between you, you both got on the bike, ready to return to school. As Inumaki started the engine, you held onto him tightly, feeling a newfound sense of connection blossoming between you.

You both made your way back to school, and once you arrived, you decided to exchange phone numbers.

As you entered the school grounds, you were met with stunned silence as everyone froze in their tracks, their eyes widening in disbelief. Whispers rippled through the crowd as people pointed and gasped, unable to believe what they were seeing.

Confusion flickered across your face as you took the helmet off, but you shrugged it off and continued on your way to class.

The rest of the school day passed quickly, filled with classes and moments shared with your friends. Finally, when the last bell rang, signalling the end of the day, you gathered your belongings and headed home.

As the hours dragged on, the sky slowly transformed from the vibrant colors of daylight to the serene shades of twilight. You sat there, staring at your phone, waiting for the notification that never came. Each minute felt like an eternity, the silence between you growing louder with every passing second. Eventually, frustration and boredom set in, and you began to pace back and forth in your room, the walls closing in as your thoughts spiraled out of control. What had started as mild impatience turned into a storm of overthinking, your mind racing with endless possibilities and unanswered questions.

Why hadn't he texted?

What was he doing?

Did I do something that put him off?

We only just became friends, but why hasn’t he texted me?

I don’t want to be the one who texts first—what if he’s not interested?

But wait, why do I even care? It’s not like I like him or anything—right? I mean, why would I? We just met!

Oh my God, what am I even doing?

OMG, HE TEXTED ME! AHHH—

*cough cough*

I mean, oh yeah, cool, whatever.

You leap onto your bed, excitement bubbling over as you start to type "heyyy!" But just before hitting send, you hesitate, pulling your thumb back.

Wait—

am I responding too soon? Should I wait a few minutes?

Maybe I just won’t respond until tomorrow....

Yeah, that way I won’t seem desperate.

But...what if he thinks I'm not interested and decides not to talk to me again?

Ugh, okay, maybe I’ll just wait a few minutes.

You glance at your phone, curiosity gnawing at you.

But I really want to know what he’s going to say.

Why is this so hard?

Finally, you throw your hands up in defeat. You know what, screw it.

You hit send and immediately toss your phone onto the bed, heart racing.

"Yep, I'm just gonna walk away. If he texts back right now, I’m not even going to read it," you mutter to yourself.

FUCK, did I put too many y's? You panic for a second, staring at the screen.

Maybe I overdid it…

Your mind starts racing again, overanalyzing every letter, every detail.

Is it too much? Does it look like I’m trying too hard?

You can’t help but feel a wave of regret wash over you as you wait, second-guessing everything.

But- Okay, he definitely called me out. You can feel your cheeks heat up as you realize he's seen right through you. Yeah, I was totally waiting for him to text me all day, but there’s no way he needs to know that.

You let out a frustrated sigh. He’s already got a high ego—clearly. If I agree, it’ll only inflate it more. Plus, I don’t need him thinking I’m desperate… You pause, correcting yourself. Wait, what? I’m not desperate! What the hell?

Your phone buzzed again with a text from Inumaki, asking for your address. With a mixture of excitement and intrigue, you hesitantly provided it, wondering what he was up to.

You catch yourself spiraling and mutter under your breath, "God, why the hell am I talking to myself?" You shake your head, trying to regain some semblance of composure, but your thoughts are all over the place.

OKAY, BUT HE WANTS TO HANG OUT??!! That’s a good thing—wait, holy shit, I need to get ready quickly!

You leap off your bed, adrenaline kicking in, and start rummaging through your closet. Outfits fly as you scramble to find the perfect look. "Okay, no, not this crop top—my breast will literally show out too much. That’s going to look way too desperate; I don’t need that much attention." You toss it aside and pull out another option. "Ugh, not this one either—too much color." Another reject.

You glance at a skirt, but immediately think twice. "Ehh, it’s too cold for this—wait, is he bringing his bike? Oh shit, okay, leggings and a long-sleeve cropped top…oh yes, that’s actually perfect." You smile to yourself, finally feeling like you’ve got it just right.

Then, you remembered the chocolates that Nobara, Itadori, and Megumi had given you, their mysterious behavior still fresh in your mind. They had insisted that you try the chocolates at night, giggling mischievously as they handed them to you. You hadn't understood their odd behavior at the time, but you found it amusing nonetheless.

Deciding to bring the chocolates along for the ride with Inumaki, you tucked them into your bag, curious to see what the fuss was all about. With a smile, you headed out the door.

As you made your way down, a flutter of excitement and anticipation danced in your stomach. With each step closer to him, the butterflies grew stronger, a mix of nerves and exhilaration swirling within you.

You approached the motorcycle, and couldn't help but notice Inumaki leaning slightly back, his figure outlined against the backdrop of the streetlights. The sight of him exuded an air of confidence and allure, sending a shiver down your spine.

With his dark attire contrasting against the glow of the night, Inumaki looked undeniably captivating, his presence commanding attention. The subtle tilt of his body added to his mystique, making him appear effortlessly cool and incredibly attractive.

A flush of warmth spread across your cheeks as you admired him, feeling a rush of excitement and anticipation at the prospect of spending the evening with him.

"Hey," you greeted as you approached him, a nervous excitement bubbling within you.

"Hey."

As he passed you the helmet, you hesitated for a moment, uncertainty flickering in your eyes as you stood by the motorcycle. Just as you were about to climb onto the back seat, Inumaki hopped off the bike and playfully motioned for you to take his place. “nah uh” he said with a grin, tapping the seat in front of him invitingly.

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Are you serious? I’ve can't ride a motorcycle!" you protested, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement bubble up inside you.

Inumaki tilted his head slightly and asked, “Do you know how to drive manual?”

You met his gaze, slightly taken aback by the question, but then nodded. “Well, yeah, I do.”

A knowing smile spread across his face. “Then it’s really no different from that.”

Then he asked, “How’d you learn to drive manual?”

“My dad actually has a few cars in manual,” you explained, a hint of nostalgia in your voice. “He also rides a motorcycle. I mean, he kind of showed me how to ride, but I just didn’t fully understand it.”

“Oh, so you can ride,” Inumaki said with a grin, clearly amused by your modesty. Before you could respond, he stepped closer and gently guided you towards the front seat, his hands steadying you as you got on the bike.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” he reassured with that same confident smile. "I'll be in control. Just trust me."

You start to feel a surge of uncertainty coursing through you.

He walked up in front of you as you settled onto his bike, his presence steadying your nerves. Gently, he reached for the bottom of your helmet, tilting your head up so your eyes met his. “Do you trust me?” he asked, his voice soft yet undeniably firm.

You swallowed nervously, feeling the weight of the moment. Searching his eyes for reassurance, you found a quiet confidence that made your heart race. After a brief hesitation, you nodded slowly, a blend of apprehension and trust swirling within you as you silently placed your faith in him.

He then hopped on the back of the bike, settling in close behind you. “What do I do?” you asked, your voice tinged with both excitement and nervousness as you felt Inumaki lean forward, his body pressing against yours, adding to the intensity of the moment.

With a calm and steady touch, he guided your hands to the handlebars, positioning them just right. His fingers, warm and reassuring, moved over yours, showing you the precise motions needed to start the bike. Each movement was deliberate, his practiced ease giving you confidence as you began to understand the mechanics beneath your fingers.

“So, put the bike into neutral,” he instructed, his voice steady and calm. You gently pushed up with your foot on the gear shift, feeling it click into neutral as your hand held the clutch down.

“See? Just like that. You know what you’re doing,” he said with a hint of admiration in his tone.

The words caught you off guard. Your heart dropped, and you felt your face flush a deep shade of red. Butterflies began to flutter wildly in your stomach, a shiver running down your spine. You knew he didn’t mean it in a sexual way, but the way he said it—the timing, the tone—had an unexpected effect, sending a rush of nervous excitement through you that you couldn’t quite shake and thank god he couldn't see your face right now....

“Okay, start up the bike, then pull in the clutch and shift to first gear,” he instructed, his voice steady and reassuring. “When I say, ease the throttle gently. We’ll start off slowly.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. Following his instructions, you gradually increased the throttle, feeling the bike come alive beneath you as it began to move forward.

As you gained speed, the wind rushing past you, a surge of exhilaration and freedom washed over you, the feeling unlike anything you’d ever experienced. A laugh escaped your lips, disbelief mixed with joy.

“Holy shit, I’m doing it!”

“Yeah, you are,” he replied, his smile evident in his voice, a note of pride lacing his words as he watched you take control.

You only made it down the block, the realization hitting you that you had no idea where you were going. Plus, with it being your first time really riding a motorcycle, you didn’t feel entirely confident or safe enough to take both of you any farther, especially with the night closing in around you.

“Okay, I’m going to switch now,” you said, a mix of relief and satisfaction in your voice. “I don’t know where we’re going, and I’d rather you take over.”

Inumaki just laughed, the sound light and teasing. “No worries, scaredy cat,” he said with a playful smirk, As he got off the bike, still chuckling, he reached out to help you dismount, his touch steady and reassuring. Once you were safely off, he smoothly slid into the driver’s seat, then turned back to you with that familiar smile. “Come on, ” he said, guiding you onto the passenger seat with a gentle hand, making sure you were comfortable before starting the bike again.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling yourself closer to him as he began to drive down the road. The cool night air brushed against your skin, but all you could focus on was the breathtaking sight in front of you—the city lights stretching out endlessly, illuminating the night with a mesmerizing glow. It was beautiful, almost surreal.

Lost in the moment, you found yourself absentmindedly moving one hand up, gently caressing his chest over his clothes, while your other hand softly trailed along his arm. The intimate touch caught Inumaki completely off guard. His heart skipped a beat, and he glanced down at your hand on his chest before quickly looking back up at the road. His face flushed a deep shade of red, nerves suddenly bubbling up inside him. Thankfully, your helmets hid his flustered expression, and he couldn’t help but be grateful for that small mercy.

In response, he moved his left hand onto your leg, his fingers brushing up and down in a calming motion. The sensation brought you back to reality, making you acutely aware of where your hands were—and where his hand was. A wave of nervousness washed over you from his touch, but you held on, feeling the connection between you deepen with each passing moment.

a/n:

- again sorry for being gone but i acc enjoy writing this series a lot bc i also ride a motorcycle

- also enjoy:)

taglist <3

@madaqueue

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leosxrealm · 10 months ago

Text

ʜɪꜱ ʙᴀᴄᴋᴘᴀᴄᴋ

pairing(s): hanma shuji x male! reader

warning(s): none!! just soft hanma and one suggestive joke at the end. word vomit tbh, requested

request: Hi there! Could I maybe ask for hanma asking male!reader to come with him on a night ride but reader is a bit nervous because he's never been on a motorbike before? Whichever format is fine, choose what fits you best <3

(a/n): at some point, i just started rambling in here. it’s not my best work :| this definitely could’ve been better

wc: 900+

!not proofread!

8:59

"what's got your panties in a twist?" hanma looks up from his phone to the source of the voice. chonbo just stands there looking at him. did he really think he was gonna get an answer? hanma glares at the younger member. he really wasn't in the mood.

chonbo pulls a disgusted look, "love doesn't suit you," he says ending his sentence with a fake gag. of course, chonbo could tell it was something serious, hanma looked worried. even if his face was as solid as stone, his eyes said everything he never would. his eyes told chonbo that he was worried.

ha, what a joke. hanma "the reaper" shuji, worried, because his precious boyfriend hasn't replied to him yet. chonbo walks out of the abandoned building, leaving hanma behind. this side of hanma scares the shit out of him. and he had better things to do anyway.

hanma looks back at his phone. he exits the messages app, then opens it up again, like that was gonna do something. suddenly his phone rings and he picks it up without a single second of hesitation.

"shuji-"

"where are you?" he cuts you off before you can even greet him. he heard a chuckle from the other side before you responded.

"i'm still at school. the practice went on longer than i thought it would. sorry i didn't read your texts before."

"stay there," he tells you over the phone, disregarding your apology, "i'll be there in 10 minutes."

"shuji-"

"i'm on my way, baby, see you in 10," he says as he hangs up the phone. he walks out of the old building towards his motorcycle. quickly hopping on it, he leaves before anyone can ask him anything.

---

he had reached your school gates in less than 10 minutes. patiently waiting for you by the gates. you run over to him when you spot your giant of a boyfriend leaning against his bike.

you give him a quick side hug as you two still weren't out publically. people in your school still didn't know you liked guys like that. as much as you would love to announce him as your boyfriend publically, you knew people weren't the kindest when it came to homosexuality.

you didn't realize you had zoned out staring at his motorbike until he snapped his fingers in front of your face to get your attention. "whatcha thinkin'?" he asks when he notices that he now has your attention.

"why did you bring your bike?" you answer him with a question of your own. usually, he would be in the neighborhood and just walk to your school. it seemed to catch him a little off guard before he straightens up, giving you a boyish grin. "how else was i supposed to come here, sweetheart?" he says, his voice laced with sarcasm.

you deadpan at him, punching his arm. "come on," he says, extending his arm towards you, a helmet loosely dangling from his fingertips. you look at the helmet, before looking at him.

"it won't bite," he teases you, giving you an encouraging smile. you mumble something in response and he has to physically bend to listen to you better. "i've never been on a motorcycle before," you say, shying away from him.

he grins at you, his eyes crinkling at the edges. he pulls you closer by tugging at your arm. "there's a first for everything, wouldn't you say?" he says softly, gently pulling the helmet over your head. he gives your helmet a kiss before shutting the visor and getting on the bike.

you just stand there not knowing what to do. he laughs before gesturing for you to get on behind him. you do as he says, tightly wrapping your arms around his torso. he laces his fingers with yours, bringing your hand to his lips, he leaves a feathery kiss on your knuckles.

"don't worry, i won't let anything happen to my backpack," he smiles, you couldn't see it but you felt it. he lets your hand drop to its previous position. he starts up his bike, going slow at first, to ease you into it. he takes one hand off the handles to hold yours, "i'm gonna go a little faster, alright?"

squeezing your hand gently, he revs up the engine, speeding through the bustling city. you look around in awe, you kind of understand now why hanma liked going on bike rides so much. maybe he'll take you again if you ask him?

you smile when your favourite convenience store comes into your field of vision. the motorcycle comes to a stop, and you hop off it, hanma following your actions. he holds your hands, leading you into the convenience store.

"you enjoyed it?" he asks, referring to your very first motorcycle ride. "it wasn't that bad," you shrug, turning your head away to look at the snacks neatly displayed on the shelves. "i can see your smile, ya know?" he asks with a laugh. "no. you can't," you deny, but couldn't help but smile again afterward.

he comes up behind you, putting his hands on your waist, gently swaying you. he starts humming a song he had heard earlier. "we're in a store, shuji," you say, turning to look at him. "and? who cares?" he grins at you, leaning down a little, "now come one, gimme a kiss. been waiting all day for it."

you laugh at his antics, pecking his lips, before shrugging off his hands and walking towards the register. "is that all?" the cashier asks. "yeah, thanks," you leave the store with shuji in tow.

"wanna learn how to ride a bike?" he questions when you reach his bike.

"haha nope"

"why not?"

"are you actually crazy?"

"no, just crazily in love with you"

"choke"

"we do that in bed, darlin”

"SHUJI-"

#soft hanma is everything #i wanna go on a bike ride with him too but i know this bitch would purposely tryna make me fall #tokyorev x reader #tokyorev x male reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers x reader #hanma x male reader #hanma x reader #hanma shuji #hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji x male reader #shuji hanma #shuji hanma x reader #shuji hanma x male reader #gay #x male reader #leo’s works #leosxrealm

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y0urm4m · 8 months ago

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BIKER CHRIS

(I feel like biker is just Chris coded soo)

Warnings:swearing,suggestive content,fem reader,nickname “ma”,smut,smoking.

:y/n never really found her self getting along with Chris, but she always felt there was something deeper that drew them back to each other and that darn bike.

It was a Friday evening, like any other she was sat at her window with a lit cigarette in her left hand her phone in her right scrolling through instagram. No new notifications she huffed to herself, what is nick doing he hasn’t answered in hours he had messaged her first asking about meeting up and having a night watching films and catching up on stuff. Bear in mind they talked all day everyday so not much was new, so they’d probably just scroll on there phones eat loads of junk and drink some energy drinks. She inhaled the last toke of her cigarette before putting it out, slowly becoming lost in thought her mind wondered to some of the times nick and her had hung out it was usually fun apart from the times Chris had ruined it by being a self centred, obnoxious jackass.

Speak of the devil, y/n’s thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of a motorcycle. Christopher sturniolo’s motorcycle to be in fact. The sound of the accelerator made her stomach do flips and her thighs squeeze together, but the abrupt sound of the motorcycle slowing down outside her house unexpectedly, caught her by surprise. She slowly peeked out the window hoping not to be seen: as she sat in her pyjama shorts and jumper. She finally had caught a clear glimpse of Chris slowly turning the key to his Honda CBR 1000RR: specifically orange and black probably being the only reason Chris bought it in the first place. Chris arose from the bike putting the visor on his helmet up as he began to walk towards y/n’s front door. Instantly y/n jumped up pulling her shorts down as much as she could, although the bottom of her butt still was out for Chris all eyes to see. She slowly made her way towards the door to unlock and see what Chris wanted, she reached her hand for the door handle hastily opening it. As She stood with one leg crossed over the other looking up at Chris, who had finally realised she had answered the door. Before even saying hi he took of his helmet brushing his hand through his hair. Her thighs squeezed together once again but this time Chris was there to catch her in the act, he looked her up and down smirking at the tiny shorts she had on. In response to his smirk she rolled her eyes thinking Chris was just trying to be a funny smartass. “What do you want Chris?”she spoke slightly annoyed. “No need to use that tone with me ma”he replied cockily moving slightly more towards her. “Christopher if you don’t tell me why you’re here I will willingly slam this door right in your face!”she snapped back. He raised his eyebrow at that witty remark. “Fine, fine I’ll tell you why I’m here if you stop being a cynic,” he chuckled. She didn’t look to impressed with that answer so he decided to finally tell her why he was mysteriously at her door at 5:40pm.

“I got forced to come and pick you up by Nick because Matt was out, is that a good answer?” He finally explained. “Right and how comes Nick didn’t tell me this before like he usually does when Matt picks me up, plus I could have walked,” She replied. “And in no way am I ready, so Chris just come in I’ll be like 20 minutes maximum.”she added on sighing, reluctantly opening the door letting the man in. As she turned to walk inside she had merely forgot her back side was on full display for Chris and anyone within a 10 metre range. Chris’ jaw dropped slightly at the free site in front of him, his hormones getting the best of his as his joggers began to tighten and his face flushed a slight red tinge. She turned to look at him. “You alright there Chris?”she asked in confusion. “U..uh yeah.. all good”he stuttered, looking down at the floor. At this point Y/N was confused Chris was never like this he’s usually loud and extremely annoying so she decided to brush it off her shoulder and get on with getting her stuff to head out. That wasn’t even the worst part now they both had to go upstairs so she could get her stuff, y/n was first to walk up the stairs Chris tried his hardest to not look at her ass but he just couldn’t help himself catching a glimpse of her ass and through the side of the shorts the orange panties she had decided to wear. “Fuck..”Chris mumbled to himself. “What was that Chris?”she looked over her shoulder at him. “Nothing.”he replied as they made it to her bedroom. Y/N decided it would be best to switch into some joggers for the ride to the house as it was definitely too cold for shorts. She quickly shoved her cigarettes,phone and some other stuff into a rucksack and made her way to Chris who stood leaning against her hallway wall phone in hand. The air was filled with sexual frustration even if neither of them could tell. “Chris we can go now.”she announced walking downstairs as Chris sheepishly followed behind as he was still painfully hard.

Once they were outside Chris faced towards Y/N. “C’mere ma.” He beckoned her over to him, she looked up at him as he grabbed his helmet slowly sliding it over her head. “Be better if you kept that on ma, can’t have you getting hurt!” He joked. There was that cockiness she remembered, She just nodded, as she slowly sat on the motorcycle behind Chris. “You know your gonna have to put your hands here ma?”he said pointing to around his waist. “I’m not doing that.”she replied shaking her head. “Yes you are or we’re not going anywhere,”he said, she just sat there staring at him obviously not impressed with what she was having to do. He slowly became impatient so instead of asking he just grabbed her hands and placed them on his waist. “Now I suggest you leave them there, ma.” He said, turning on the engine to his motorcycle and he began to drive off towards the house. The start of the trip was quiet Y/N sat in silence her hands still in the same place as they were when they first left, but a sneaky idea had come to mind. She slowly slid her hand down from Chris’ waist to his thigh, moving her index finger is circles. “Y/N?”he said sternly, he never called her by her first name it was always ma every time. But she ignored him still making tiny circles on his thigh, Chris’ cock was awfully hard now to the point who couldn’t take it. He sped up driving as fast as he could to the house slowing down as he got on his street. He pulled into the garage parking but before Y/N could go through the door he stopped her, pressing the button closing the garage door. “Ma, after what you did on the bike I suggest you do something about this.”he whisper spoke, as he pointed down to his boner. All y/n did was squeeze her thighs together she didn’t move almost frozen in place. He walked towards her tucking the loose hair behind her ears pulling her face forwards, her lips meeting his connecting perfectly. The kiss deepened tongues entwined together, this lasted around 2 minutes before chris pulled back his hands rubbing up and down her waist. “You sure you want this ma?”he asked. She nodded. “Words ma, I need words.”he replied. “Yes, Chris im sure.”she whispered, thighs clenched and eyes half open. He smiled a bit before looking at her asking for approval to undress her, she nodded this time he didn’t ask for words he was to impatient and began pulling her sweatpants down and taking her top of. Leaving y/n in her bra and undies, Chris groaned at the sight. “Can I take yours off?”she asked quietly. He just nodded, she began pulling Chris’ top over his head and pulling his joggers down. She bit her lip looking and the obvious bulge in Chris’ boxers. “I can’t wait anymore ma, I want you bent over my bike now.”he told her. She reluctantly bent over the bike her ass facing Chris. He slapped her ass, she moaned quietly in response. “You like that ma?” He asked smirking, but before she could even answer he slapped her ass a bit harder this time cause her to jolt slightly forward. “I’m gonna ask you to be quiet for me ma, can you do that for me yeah!”he whispered into her ear slowly pulling her orange panties down. She spread her legs a bit in response as Chris then pushed his boxers down, spitting on his hand pumping his dick a few times before aligning himself up. “You ready ma?” He whispered in her ear lustfully. She nodded, with that he pushed in leaving no time to adjust to his size. “Chris..fuck.”she moaned out, putting her hand behind her to brush it through the side of chris’ hair. He kept thrusting in her at the semi fast pace. As the garage filled with the sound of skin slapping, Chris’ groans and her moans. The aroma of sex filled the air as well as their noses. “Fuck your so tight ma, gonna make me cum if you keep squeezing me like that.”Chris groaned in her ear. “Chris.. fuck Im gonna.. cum”she cried out as the feeling of her slowly coming undone took over. Her legs shaking slightly and her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

“You think you can cum for me one more time ma?”he asked her softly.She nodded, this time Chris’ pace was a bit faster, y/n becoming even more of a moaning mess at the continuous feeling of Chris’ thrusting into her and the fact she had just came. His pace slowly became messed up as he became closer to his edge. “Fuck.. ma I’m gonna cum,”he groaned out gripping onto her ass. “Gonna fill you up ma”he whispered as he came undone filling y/n up with his cum. As they both stayed in place for a few minutes catching their breath, Chris slowly pulled out. “We should probably head in, before nick thinks something bad has happened.”Chris said putting his clothes back on, leaving y/n getting re-dressed. Y/N grabbed her phone, 1 new notifications from Chris.

Meet me later in my room and we can talk properly

ꜰɪɴɪᴛᴀ

That was honestly so fun to write if people do like it I’m kinda tempted to possibly make a part two or something!

Tiny taglist:

@freshsturns

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut

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slutforsilverfoxes · 1 year ago

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What Happens in New York…

You took in a deep breath as soon as you crossed through the back door of the restaurant and into the parking lot, arms outstretched while you enjoyed the brisk New York air, and declared, “I gotta get me a new job.”

“What?” Sean, your best friend and roommate of several years, taunted from behind you, making up for your head start in a few long strides. “Waiting on rich people not cutting it for you anymore?”

“Waiting on rich, crusty old white men and their wives who seem to drop in age each year isn’t cutting it anymore,” you corrected his statement. “Now gimme that helmet,” you demanded with grabby fingers. “I wanna go home, watch Marvel movies, and finish that bottle of wine we opened on Monday.”

“Speaking of old white men,” the blonde started with a laugh, tossing you your helmet before sitting astride his motorcycle and strapping his own on, “my brother’s in town. Mind if I stop by to say hi?”

“Ah, yes, the G-man,” you nodded all-knowingly, tucking your legs up under you and getting settled behind Sean’s lithe body. “Is he seeing anyone?” Sean purposefully revved the bike and pretended like he couldn’t hear you, so you tapped aggressively on his visor until he turned to give you the stink eye. “I said is he seeing anyone, you dick?”

“What’s it to you, huh?”

“Well, the way you describe him, he’s probably got a nice pension and benefits going with all the hours he works. I could make a cute housewife!”

“Funny,” your best friend deadpanned. He used his foot to raise the kickstand before guiding the bike out to the main road. “Too bad for him, ‘cause you’re my cute housewife.”

“Gross.”

His ensuing laughter got lost in the New York traffic.

—————

“Do you wanna come in with me?” Sean asked as you hopped off the bike and stretched your legs outside of the precinct.

“Nah,” you shook your head in response and pulled out your phone. “You go ahead and see big bro. I’m taking full advantage of my allotted yard time.”

The blonde rolled his eyes and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You’re a riot. Be back soon.”

“Don’t get in a fight,” you called out lazily amid a yawn, breathing in the cold winter air to ward off your exhaustion.

Several minutes later, you were scrolling idly through your phone while you waited for your friend, leaning against his bike for support and stifling yet another yawn when the hairs at the nape of your neck stood at attention, and you suddenly felt the clarity of alertness.

“Hey there,” a voice called out from nearby, and you studiously ignored the lackluster greeting. It was followed by a whistle that was evidently supposed to woo you, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, stuffing one hand into your pocket and letting out a disgruntled noise when you weren’t rewarded by your headphones. “This your bike, little lady?”

“Why, you in the market?” you barked back, finally raising your gaze to meet that of an NYPD officer.

“Maybe I am,” he responded with a smile that set you even more on edge. “Wanna take me for a test ride?” His buddy behind him laughed at the innuendo, and this time you did roll your eyes.

“Hard pass.”

“C’mon, baby, you look like you could use some fun in your life,” he continued, and when he took a step closer, your hackles rose. Deciding that my best friend’s brother is an FBI agent wasn’t going to cut it, you answered coolly, “My boyfriend’s an FBI agent working in your office up there, and I don’t think he’d take kindly to you propositioning me outside your precinct. Honor and integrity and all that, right?” You forced your mouth into a smile that dropped when the officer removed the badge pinned to his jacket.

“I’m off the clock, sweetheart. And I don’t see your boyfriend anywhere.”

“Turn around.”

The rumble of an unfamiliar voice had you looking over the officer’s head to find the frowning visage of a handsome brunette with striking features. Sean came to your side protectively, murmuring, “Hey, you okay?” as the officer turned to look up at the imposing older Hotchner and stammered, “I’m- I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was with you.”

The brunette tilted his head to one side and narrowed his eyes, and the air around him positively crackled with power. Quietly, he challenged, “And why should that matter?” As the officer opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, he took a step closer and dropped his voice even lower. “Go home to your wife, Officer-” His eyes darted over to the name tag before continuing, “-McNally, and be ready for a disciplinary hearing at some point this week, because I will be speaking to your supervisor directly.”

He nodded deferentially, refusing to make eye contact, and tried to scurry away, but Sean’s older brother barked, “Officer McNally! Isn’t there something you’d like to say to my girlfriend?”

“Sorry!” he called sheepishly, heat rising to his cheeks despite the chill outside. “Sorry, ma’am, won’t happen again.”

Sean and his brother watched until the officer and his friend had turned the corner, then directed their attention to you. “I hope that wasn’t your introduction to New York’s finest,” the older Hotchner remarked with a frown, holding his hand out to you. “I’m Aaron. Your boyfriend, apparently,” he tacked on, lips twitching to fight a smile.

A blush crept across your cheeks as you took his hand. “Y/N, Sean’s best friend. Sorry about all…that,” you said through a laugh, gesturing broadly at the scene that had just taken place.

“Please don’t apologize. It’s nice to be name dropped for a good reason,” Aaron responded warmly, this time allowing his mouth to turn upward in a genuine smile. Sean coughed pointedly beside you and you hurried to pull your hand from his brother’s grip, your face growing even warmer at the realization you’d been standing there holding his hand for several seconds like an absolute buffoon.

“Home, Sean- we should- gotta go,” you stammered out, wincing at your brain literally short circuiting from a single touch.

“Wow,” Sean breathed out through a laugh. “You actually broke her, Aaron.” Turning to you, he faux-whispered, “So you really do have a thing for older guys?”

“Woah, hey!” You yell to be heard through laughter in the present. “You did not say that,” you call your best friend on his bullshit, pointing a fork threateningly in his direction. Aaron gently lowers your wrist as you continue, “And I wasn’t that awestruck, okay? He was handsome, but I wasn’t like, drooling, guys, c’mon-”

“Maybe just a little,” your fiancé teases, eyes widening playfully when you turn the silverware on him next.

“Derek.” You turn to Aaron’s friend and declare, “You’re getting upgraded to best man and young Hotchner over there is being relegated to flower girl.”

Sean winks at you from his temporary spot on the floor where he’s regaling your friends and families with the story of how he introduced you two- at least, his version of the story. “Just so you know, I happen to look cute in a dress.”

“Have some more champagne, honey,” Aaron instructs with a smile as he refills your flute. You dutifully take a sip and mumble around the glass, “You’re not giving this speech tomorrow, Sean.”

“Speech?” Your best friend barks out a laugh, and you narrow your eyes at him in suspicion. “Baby girl, I’ve got a whole PowerPoint documenting your journey into the family, don’t you worry. Pictures and everything.”

“Aaron,” you whine. “Make it stop.”

“You really know how to pick ‘em,” Aaron laughs before pressing a kiss to your pouting lips.

“Clearly,” you grumble. “You Hotchner men will be the death of me.”

—————

[A/N: Why did I write this? Who’s to say? I love a lil brother vibe, might have to explore more of Sean’s bff as Aaron’s girl 👀 Hope somebody enjoyed this crack]

AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner

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kiwiikato · 2 months ago

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hi. this is my first time requesting anything but i have a request to make. it's an idea i thought about while trying to sleep. is it ok of you can do Ken Sato x Singer! Reader? if you don't want to that's okay.

masterlist

this sounds like a wonderful idea! i would love to write this for you! :3 i hope you’re okay with the storyline! i’m not the very best at writing stories without long descriptions 0-0

propmt: mina sets up kenji with an interview. on the way there, he instead ends up running into up-and-coming new singer y/n.

kenji fumbled with the zipper of his jacket, the pulse of his heart increasing as he ran around his home. he had just got back home from a mission, having to deal with another hectic kaiju that destroyed the city, and with the even more bothersome KDF.

upon getting home, mina had informed him of a interview she had accepted on the behalf of gaining more publicity on kenji’s rise as a more cooperative member of the giants baseball team.

“fuck mina, how many minutes till the interview starts?” kenji basically barked out, grabbing his keys off the side table, along with his phone and motorcycle helmet. “you have about 15 minutes to get there, along with another 20 minutes on preparing yourself for the interview itself.” the robotic orb responded, hovering near the slightly tanned skin asian.

his hand raked along his hair, pushing any fly away strands back into place. “good, i should have a couple of minutes to spare then.” he said throwing on his helmet, all while making his way to his front door.

“mina, tell my dad to take care of emi, please. he should get here in a couple minutes. unlock the door for him when he arrives.” kenji says, giving mina a quick wave as he ran to his motorcycle.

he inserted his keys into the cars ignition, quickly turning the keys, making his bike roar slightly. his hands gripped the handles of his bike securely, with his foot landing in the gas pedal. it wasn’t long till he found himself driving, the cool air of the night hitting his body.

he couldn’t help but sigh from the freshness of the air, feeling a bit more relaxed about the interview. his bike drove through the city, the colorful lights of purple and blue flashing his helmets visor.

it wasn’t long till he found himself in front of the building where the interview would take place. kenji took his helmet off, fixing his hair quickly as he chain locked his motorcycle in place. he sped walked past the doors, pushing them open as his ears were filled with the sounds of people talking and rushing around.

he ran past the receptionist, too tired to deal with check ins. it’s fine it didn’t matter, they knew to expect him anyways. he’s finger pressed at the button of the elevator, his foot impatiently tapping as he waiting for the iron doors to slide open.

a ding sounded out as he quickly got on, not bothering to check if anyone was coming as his finger hastily pressed the ‘closes doors’ button. he sighed in relief seeing the doors slowly waiting, looking at his watch to see he had only about 25 minutes to prep and settle down.

his eyes flickered up at the doors in shock when a hand stuck itself into the elevator doors. the unknown had pried the doors open slightly till them automatically open. kenji couldn’t help his jaw being open from the shock of someone shoving their hand in right before it closed, almost risking an injury.

the person walked in, smacking their hands together to rid of any dust and gunk they might have picked up. you looked up, raising an eyebrow at his face. “you might want to keep that mouth shut pretty boy, a mosquito might fly in.” you say snickering slightly.

kenji closed his mouth, readjusting his posture to look a bit more carefree and relaxed. “yeah, i know that.” he remarked, kind of confused at the interaction at hand.

“did you really? it doesn’t look like you knew that sato.” you say moving to click the button for the floor you were going to, but he stood near it. you cleared your throat waiting for him to move out of the way, but he just stood there.

“you need to learn how to get out of the way.” you say as you lean over him, your body close to his, almost touching, as you tap the button to the sixth floor. “seventh floor, huh?” you ask him, seeing the lit up button as you pull away from his space.

he could help but to smell the scent of your cologne/perfume as he nodded. “yeah, seventh floor. i got an interview i have to be at in a bit.” he says, looking down at his watch to keep track of the time.

“oh really? i do too.” kenji raised his eyebrows in curiosity. he had yet to have heard of you, so his brain rummaged around for what you could be getting interviewed for.

giving up, he just decided to ask. “what are you getting interviewed for?” you turned to him, smiling at his question. “up and coming singer. the media is interested in my ‘sudden’ rise to fame, so i was offered an opportunity to be interviewed, as well as a short performance there as well.” you say, your eyes drifting up to see you were almost close to the sixth floor.

kenji wouldn’t deny his interest. it wasn’t a lie to he enjoyed music. he played it throughout his house every chance he could get. “how long have you been playing for then?”

it made you ecstatic to be asked about the journey to your current present. “i’ve been performing for a couple years now, started off by doing small gigs at a club around the corner from here and uploading videos, honestly just testing my luck.” you say fixing your shirt as you see the sixth floor coming up.

“well, isn’t that something. it’s a good thing you’re here now, practicing really does benefit people.” he said smiling. he was strange, but a good strange. the famous baseball player was undeniably attractive. you were sure you would’ve blushed if it wasn’t for your blood already pumping from stage freight.

“yeah it is. it’s good to be here, makes it fun to meet new people, just like right now actually.” you say as the elevator makes a ding sound. “well, this is my stop. i should get going. good luck on your interview!” you say smiling as you step out.

kenji watches you from inside the elevator as the doors begin to close. you wave at him smiling, to which he smiles back a bit. right as the doors are about to shut, he watches as you wink, your hand making a ‘call me’ motion as the doors close.

kenji can’t help but blush at your sudden confidence. he would have called you, but he didn’t even get your name, nor your number. he had gotten no information about you at all. he can’t help but chuckle at your attempt, finding it cute.

he watches as the elevator is almost to the seventh floor. he fixes his hair once again from nerves, walking out as the doors open. he confidently struts to the dressing room, having a couple minutes to spare. his hands find their way to his jacket pocket. his fingers hit something in them, it couldn’t have been his keys or his phone, it was too small and thin.

he raises an eyebrow as he pulls out a small card. he looks down, reading the information on it. he couldn’t help but to slightly blush as he read the writing on it.

“call me cutie - (xxx) xxx-xxxx y/n ♡”

he chuckled, smiling softly as he placed in back in his pocket. he opened the doors to his dressing room, taking a seat. a smile gracing his lips as he realized you had snuck the card in his pocket when you had leaned over him to press the button for the sixth floor.

he is definitely going to send you a text when he gets home.

#ken sato #ken sato x reader #kenji sato #ultraman #ultraman rising #kenji sato x reader

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year ago

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Pick Ups || CL16 blurb

When the call came across your headset that there was a pick up needed at turn eight you immediately turned in your seat to see the replay on the big screen. Swiping the heel of your boot at the kickstand, you took off from your wait zone to pick up the Ferrari driver for the second time in two days.

You flipped your visor up as you reached the fence line closest to the crash as one of the stewards pointed Charles your way. Shuffling forward, you made space for him to throw his leg over the seat and you felt the warmth of his suit press to your back.

“Once is an accident, but twice…I’m starting to think you fancy me,” you said softly as you grabbed his gloved hand and placed it on your waist.

“I should hope so.”

“Are you hurt?” you asked as you slapped your visor down and twisted the throttle as you released the clutch.

“I’m fine, chérie,” he said over the rumble of the engine and his hands tightened their hold on you as the motorcycle took off.

He couldn’t see the smile behind your helmet but it was there in your voice. “How about, if you finish the race tomorrow without crashing, you take me to dinner?”

“That’s certainly motivation, and if I don’t I still get a few minutes of your time. It’s almost win-win.”

“Not for me, Frederic always gets more of your time when you DNF.”

“Then I will try my best to finish for you, my love.”

The pit lanes came into sight all too soon and you wished you could have taken a longer route as Charles fell silent. Placing a hand over his, you gently squeezed it and slowed down as you neared the Ferrari garage.

“I’ll see you tonight,” you said as you came to a stop.

“It’ll be a late one, I’m afraid,” he sighed. “Hopefully the data has an answer to why I keep losing the rear end.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” you stated wholeheartedly. You had faith in Charles, even when he didn’t. “And if not, you know I’ll be there to pick you up.”

“I know,” he chuckled as he climbed off the back of the motorbike. “I’m forever grateful to have you.”

He lightly tapped his helmet to yours, the only way he could ‘kiss’ you while you were both swaddled in protective gear. “Je t’aime.”

“Love you too.”

Another call came across your headset and you searched for a big screen to see De Vries had spun out.

“Busy day for you,” Charles stated as he saw the crash too and knew you were needed for another pick up. “And tell Nyck to keep his hands where I can see them.”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #f1 fic #formula one fanfiction #f1 imagine

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 7 months ago

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Biker!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

From the ask here

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Seeing Simon on his motorcycle is something that awakens a new yearning inside you, but when you get your own bike and start riding alongside him, the way he gets you hot and bothered makes it worse. You need him to fuck you on his bike and you hope your plan will make it happen.

Word Count: 5 k

Warnings:

The first time you ever saw Simon Riley perched atop his black motorcycle, in that moment some innate part of your brain was awakened and you were never the same. There was just something so incredibly erotic about the way those thick thighs straddled over the sides, the way his arms looked with their muscles bulging, straining his black short sleeved t-shirt wrapped around them as he leaned forward to reach the handlebars. Of course his helmet with the blacked out visor didn’t hurt either, not when paired with his sleeve of tattoos. He was a vision even more than usual and you were suddenly hooked.

Then he took you for a ride along the open highway where he could really show you the power his bike had and that solidified your need to be involved in his hobby. Adrenaline, that was and still is Simon’s favorite part of being on the open road, his bike vibrating underneath him as the wind rushed past his body, and now that you had that first taste of it all, it was yours too.

Whatever you needed to do to keep getting to look at him like that, to keep feeling that rush, you were more than willing to do it.

Whenever he was on leave you two found yourselves on his bike, roaming the city on long night rides just to feel the wind on your skin and the rush of speed under your bodies. That was until he made an off-handed joke one day about getting you your own bike so that you could drive alongside him and then suddenly you were expressing how much you actually had been thinking about it. Sharing his hobby with someone, especially you, was something he has always wanted. To think you could experience the same thrills had him rushing to take you bike shopping the very next day so he could start teaching you.

You picked it all up relatively fast and before you knew it you had your license and regular drives have now become a part of your routine whenever your military man is in. Getting on the highway, opening the bike up as you go faster and faster, weaving through traffic with Simon always right by your side, there is something exhilarating about it all. And now you had the best view of that gorgeous specimen of a man.

Being able to see you on your own bike makes Simon have a taste of his own medicine because fuck did you look a goddamn beauty. Is this how you feel looking at him? The way it makes your back arch, full juicy arse just calling his name, has him salivating whenever he gets to see it. And he can’t help what it causes him to do; it’s not his fault when you look the way you do. The first time he ever pulled his little stunt, a ritual of sorts that he has to engage in every time you’re out driving together, you had a hard time focusing on the road after.

Bringing his bike close beside yours, he reaches out and runs his hand over the curve of your ass, making sure that he does it long enough that the other motorists behind you both can see him claim his hot biker vixen as his. You belong to him and he wants everyone that can see to know it.

And fuck does it drive him wild and have you reeling every time.

This goes on for quite a while, and all the times he’s touched you while riding have conjured up a new fantasy of yours and you finally decide you have to do something about it. Lately you’ve been thinking: what type of partner would you be if you didn’t return the favor? Simon deserves to be just as flustered too, right? It’s not because you need him to fuck you on his bike, nope, not all.

Is it strange? Maybe. Will he go for it? You aren’t entirely sure, but one thing you do know is that you at least have to try. And if it works out, you know he’ll enjoy it too. On one of the last few nights of his leave, you decide that you’ve got nothing to lose and put your plan into motion.

“You know, it’s been so long since you took me on a ride with you,” you put your case to him tonight. “Like we used to. Me on the back of your bike, wrapped around you tight, you speeding through the lanes with the wind rushing past us. Remember that? I used to get so excited to see you just so you’d take me out with you.”

Those hazel eyes stare back at you curiously; of course he remembers. Christ, how could he ever fucking forget? Still, it’s intriguing to him why you would be bringing this up now. “What’s got ya all nostalgic sweetheart, hmm?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrow. “Ya don’t like ridin’ beside me?”

You shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Just thought it’d be nice to be close to you again is all, since you’ll be leaving soon,” you say as you bite your lip with a subtle coyness while you stare back at him with those tempting doe eyes that make him melt.

How can he say no to that? To his girl wanting to be near him? Absolutely fucking never.

“Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he responds as he gets up while pointing towards the bedroom, “well, go get dressed then. Can’t say no to ya when ya look at me like that.”

Simon is already sitting on the bike out front ready to go when you emerge from the front door in a short skirt, tight tank top, and leather boots and once again he is reminded just how lucky he is to be with you. This just keeps getting better and better for the ol boy.

Climbing on the back and securing yourself around him, helmets on and visors down, Simon takes off into the night. He can feel the pressure from your hands wrapped tightly around his waist, pressing into his abs as you hold on, the warmth of your chest against his back, your thighs saddled up against his, and he wonders why you both don’t do this more often.

The lights of the city sparkle around you, cutting through the evening like stars to illuminate your way as Simon drifts through the streets, making his way to the highway like he always does. Your heart is beginning to beat faster as you wait for the opportune moment to implement your plan and you silently hope that it works.

On the highway, weaving in and out of traffic, Simon detects the first signs of something happening behind him. The movement is subtle at first and he almost misses that both hands aren’t pinned against his stomach anymore until he detects the warmth from your palm as it comes to rest on top of his thigh. He looks down through the visor of his helmet to where your hand lays as he wonders curiously to himself about the intentions of your actions.

Just what the hell is she up to? he thinks to himself as he turns his attention back onto the darkened road studded with streetlights.

The answer is quickly approaching as he feels your hand on the move again, now inching towards the middle of his broad thighs, moving and stopping, moving and stopping, to the crotch of his jeans and suddenly he understands just as you make first contact with the mass contained inside.

A shiver runs up Simon’s spine and you can feel his back shudder against your chest as you start to rub over the swell, your touches heavy and full of purpose. Over and over again your palm makes purchase with his crotch and you can feel the muscles in his back tense. A part of him wants to pull your hand off so that can refocus, but it feels too damn good to get you to quit. Fuck, the pressure from your hand and the vibration from the bike has him so hard he can barely see straight.

He needs to find some place to stop and fast; if he’s going to come in something it is not going to be his pants, it’s going to be you.

Up ahead he sees an exit fast approaching and he quickly transfers over to the lane and takes it, not having a plan, but hopeful that he will be able to find something satisfactory enough. Brown eyes dart from one side of the street to the other frantically searching for something, anything so that he can pull off. The sign for a large parking garage is illuminated just up ahead; it’ll have to do. He won’t be able to focus for much longer; the pressure of your hand rubbing against his cock mixed with the vibrations from the bike leaves him gnawing at the bit with a need that he desperately has to satisfy. It wouldn’t be safe to keep going, not with the way his limbs are starting to tingle.

Simon drives through the first couple of levels and is glad to see it relatively empty save for a few straggling cars spaced far apart. Perfect, that means no one will be around to disturb him until he has had his way with you. He continues on a couple of levels that are completely empty as he puts you both more in the middle of the structure just to be sure you will be all alone until finally he drives to the back of the garage and pulls into the shadow, parking the bike and shutting it off.

“Hop off,” he says and you immediately do as you're told, taking off your helmet and straightening your skirt as you make it to your feet.

You stand there close to his thigh as he removes his helmet and sets it on the ground on the other side of the bike, running his fingers through his short hair to fluff it up from being crushed underneath. As he sits back up his tattooed arm quickly reaches out behind your head where he grabs your hair into a ponytail in his fist, keeping your head locked while his opposite hand palms around your waist as he leans in with a smirk across his lips and a glimmer in those coffee-colored eyes.

“Whatcha think you’re doin’, sweetheart? Playin’ games, hmm?” he asks as he stares back into your face.

“I don’t know,” you say with a shrug, your tone playful and coy. You know damn well what you are doing and he isn’t dumb enough to think you don’t.

He glares back at you skeptically. “Right.”

“What?” you dismiss him. “I thought you didn’t mind a bit of touching when we ride? Always grabbing me; thought you’d enjoy a bit of fun.”

There it is; this is payback for all the times he’s made his move while you were out cruising together. And fuck, has it worked to perfection.

Simon rips his hand from your waist and wraps it around your wrist so that he can pull your hand forward and place it right up against the stiffening peak straining against the zipper of his form fitting jeans.

“So this is whatcha fuckin’ wanted, yeah?” he asks, breathiness in his gruff tone as your hand makes contact with the rigid bulge. “Gettin’ me so fuckin’ hard I can’t even be bothered ta wait till we get back home ta fuck ya?”

Can’t wait? Is he saying what you think he’s saying? God, you hope so. “What do you mean?” you ask, faking your ignorance as you rub your palm over the swell while maintaining eye contact. “We aren’t going home?”

A deep hum echoes through the atmosphere as he bites his bottom lip; you’ve started something that can’t be stopped now and the way your hand continues to stimulate him, he doesn’t think you want it to anyway. “No,” he says with a shake of his head, “ya wanted to start all this on my bike, that’s fine. Guess I deserve it. But now…I’m gonna make damn sure I finish ya on it.”

As you stand there silently waiting to see what he does next, Simon shifts back in the seat and helps you climb back onto the bike, but facing him so that he can lay you over the fuel tank. He plants his feet firmly onto the ground to keep the setup steady and pulls your body down, those rough hands pushing your skirt up off your hips to your waist as he forces your legs open wider so he can get himself between them.

Thank God you’ve worn something easy to get into. Or was that your plan all along? Doesn’t really matter much now; he’s in.

Simon looks down and his eyes catch sight of a dark spot in the crotch of your panties. He presses his hand up against the mound of your cunt and the pressure makes you twitch, your back arching up off the tank as he feels what he had just suspected: you’re a little damp.

“Seems someone’s already stirred up,” he comments as his hand releases the pressure only to press in tight all over again in a pattern that matches his increasing heart rate. “Ya like it, don’t ya baby? The way tha bike vibrates ‘tween your legs? Like the way it hums against ya ‘till your clit is swollen?”

Simon’s hard-on throbs harshly against the zipper of his pants and into your naked thigh, tenting the fabric while he grinds it into the muscle as you wrap your legs around his hips; you have to hold on as you can’t stop the way your body jerks the longer his touch prods against those sensitive lips. Just the pressure alone after the drive is enough to make you whimper inside your closed mouth.

“Have ya been thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’ like this? Me fuckin’ ya raw while you’re on this thing?”

Releasing his hand, he walks those long fingers over the top of your clothed pussy to the waistband of your panties so that he can slip them inside and back down to the moist slit waiting eagerly for their touch and there it is, the unmistakable sound of his breath hitching as his hand makes contact. God, you always feel so fucking good.

He uses his two middle fingers to part the lips of your slit and run them along the length to gather all the wetness he can on his digits so that once he finds your entrance he can easily slip up inside while the tip of his thumb nestles against your clit. You’re very warm, nice and hot and soft against his fingertips and a pleasurable hum he gives in response to the feeling.

“Ya know, I know why ya started ridin’ with me,” he says as you squirm. “I could see it in your eyes the second I pulled in to pick ya up that first time: ya like the way I look on my bike. Don’t ya?”

Your silence is met with a heavy jab with the pad of his thumb to that sensitive little button, holding it down until you are forced to answer as he thrusts his fingers inside you up to the knuckle. Your body takes them in perfectly, gripping tight around the digits as you suck him in.

“Yes,” you say in a whine and buck as his stocky fingers give you a nice starting stretch. “You

look so f-fucking hot on this thing that sometimes I d-don’t know what to do with myself. That’s w-why I n-need…”

“What do ya need, sweetheart?” he groans as he curls his rough fingers up against your G-spot as his thumb begins to stroke concise circles upon your clit. “Use your words.”

You swallow hard while breathing heavily out of your nose as you clamp your lips shut to stop from audibly crying out in ecstasy at that first contact he makes. “Ah, ah, ah,” he scolds as he pins his thumb down hard again. “Let me fuckin’ hear ya. Ain’t no one here ‘cept us.”

A desperate moan escapes your lips and echoes through the empty space as you let it all out. “I need you to f-fuck me on y-your b-bike,” you say as you vibrate under his skilled touch. “B-been daydreaming about it for a while. Didn’t know if you’d want to, but I’m desperate.”

Using a flick of his wrist, he begins to snap his fingers up into you faster and faster, those fingers vigorously working your cunt until your juices are starting to dribble down to collect on his palm and the sound of wet slaps reverberate off the concrete.

“All ya had ta fuckin’ do was ask,” he says. “Ya know I’d do anythin’ for ya, luv; my pretty girl always gets what she wants.”

You look so beautiful sprawled over his bike like this, disheveled skirt shoved up to your ribs, his hand plunged into the front of your panties so that they are stretched tight around your hips ready to rip, back arching as he again strikes right at the exact point of pleasure, tiny beads of sweat sparkling over the exposed parts of your flesh as you burn for him in the warm night air. It’s an image he’s gonna have committed to memory; every time he rides now he will remember the gorgeous mess he made of you.

If he thought he liked his bike before, it is nothing compared to how he will feel after fucking you on it.

Minute after minute each stroke draws you near that razor’s edge and threatens to violently throw you off. Your walls are fluttering around his fingers as they swell and become engorged the closer you get. Simon knows that it won’t be long now and his pulse races to feel it, that moment you come. But not like this, oh no.

He has still been chomping at the bit to relieve the pressure throbbing between his legs and now that he is sure you are ready for it, he isn’t going to waste time. You’re still in public after all, he doesn’t need this to end before you’ve both gotten off. Amidst your whimpered protests to keep going, that you are almost there, he pulls his fingers out of you with a squelch, your lubrication dripping along his fingers and glistening in the harsh lighting inside the garage.

You lean your head up as Simon pulls his fingers apart to watch the sticky fluid string between them before he brings them to his mouth and rams them into his lips to lick them clean, taking care of the mess he’s created from his touch. Just a taste to sait him, as if his face isn’t going to be plastered between those thighs later as he replays the memory of what happened here.

The sight of him sucking the lubrication off his fingers has you gasping for air. How can someone look so perfect doing something so filthy? You need him, bad. “Please,” you beg with a needy whine in your voice, “I want you inside me.”

Those words are like striking a match near a gas leak; suddenly he is scrambling to move as fast as possible. Feverish hands are clawing at clothing at breakneck speeds as his flesh begs to connect with yours and complete this union. “Ya can shoot me dead if I ever say no to that,” he growls as he moves.

Time is of the essence and so he quickly rips the soaked crotch of your panties to the side, securing them against your thigh and out of his way as his free hand ruthlessly yanks at the button on his pants to get it undone before he wrenches down the zipper and releases his cock that is throbbing and aching with his rapid heartbeat.

“Gotta make this quick, yeah?” he groans as the caress from his hand over the tip is almost too sensitive to handle. He’s falling fast. “Don’t want no one seein’ ya like this ‘cept me.”

Leaning down, he places a brief, heated kiss with his warm lips to the exposed skin near your belly button before he has you sitting up so that he can get at those lips he yearns to feel against him as he enters you. The threads of your panties are beginning to snap as he holds the fabric out of his way so he can move his hips in as he aligns the head of his cock with that dripping, aching hole.

Eyes closed and acting off of pure impulse and adrenaline alone, he mutters a rushed “Breathe” into your open mouth as a warning while his fingertips dig into the meat of your hips. The tip prods the opening before it pushes through and slides up inside, the rest following behind in one steady, fluid motion until he reaches the base and there is no more to shove inside you.

Simon shudders at the overwhelming euphoria hitting him all at once and now he’s burning from the inside out, his bulky chest taut with each heavy breath that he releases between kisses as the feeling of you wrapped tightly around his phallus drowns out everything else that surrounds him.

You throw your head back, breaking the kiss to cry out as you are filled to the brim, being stretched to capacity with all he has to give. His hand grabs at the back of your head so that his lips can shoot back to yours as a tether to help you calm until your body can be allowed a little time to adjust; he’s not exactly small by any means of the word.

It’s a few seconds before he releases your mouth as he starts to thrust, trying to go slow at first even though he is eager for more. Hips rolling at a steady pace now he pulls back to watch himself pump in and out of you. “Look,” he says in a breathless growl as the hand on the back of your head directs your eyeline down in between your bodies. “This what ya been fuckin’ fantasizin’ ‘bout? I think it looks even prettier on my bike.”

The way his swollen, veiny cock disappears as it slides up into you is mesmerizing. You can feel it but still seeing it has you questioning…where does it all fit?

He keeps you close as he picks up the pace until the sound of slapping skin against skin fills the silent space. Panting into your face with mouth open, chest heaving up and down with laborious breaths, Simon puts more into his thrusts so that even the bike itself begins to rock with you from the force. The longer he goes the more feral he gets, relinquishing any hold he had on his sanity for as long as he gets to have his body stay fitting so nicely into your cunt.

It’s building, the warmth in the pit of your stomach is gathering steadily as the epinephrine releases all those euphoric chemicals into your bloodstream. The risky nature of your endeavor, the stimulation he’s already produced with his fingers, the fulfilling of your fantasy, it all works together to fuel your passion and his strong thrusts have you ready to spill over the edge at any second.

Simon keeps his pace even as he is now struggling to keep it together. The excitement has gotten to him too so that if he lets himself lose control he is going to come and he can’t have that, not until you have. With each passing second, each pound of that deadly appendage inside you gets more and more desperate, until he finally hears those sweet, sweet words that make his heart skip a beat.

“Don’t stop, baby,” you beg, your voice cracking with desperation as you try to keep your volume at a reasonable level while he slams into you again. “So c-close…”

“Come for me, baby, that’s it,” he coaxes desperately through gritted teeth as he strains to hold on a little longer. Just a little bit more and you’ll finish and he can let go.

That’s when an idea is thrust into his brain and he knows what he needs to do to bring this full fucking circle for the both of you; complete the fantasy and give you even more to dream about for later. Simon moves over top of you to force you back until you find yourself against the fuel tank again.

Reaching above your head, he cranks the key and restarts the engine. The motorcycle roars to life, filling the garage with its sound, and begins to vibrate until it is pulsating through his body as he thrusts into you harder and harder. It’s like having your own living dildo that only intensifies the stimulation the longer he plunges into your dripping hole; a few more seconds of this and you will be coming on his cock.

And then he revvs the engine…

The stimulation is too much and suddenly you are forcibly thrown over that precipice as you come with such force, like a hot flash of white light, that your thighs clamp down around his hips as your head falls back. You cry out in choking gasps as your orgasm tears through you; so strong that you are shaking. Your walls are fluttering sporadically around his cock as your hips buck against him unrelentingly and he can’t hold back any longer.

“Where do ya want me?” he pleads as his fingertips claw at your hips, stabbing harshly into the muscle as he holds on for you to answer; he is about to blow.

“In me, in me,” you whine as you clamp your legs down hard to keep him in. What else were you on birth control for other than this?

He jerks violently as your pussy continues to flutter around him, making his limbs numb from the pleasure, and with a loud groan that is akin to the bellow of a wild beast, the pressure building at the base of his spine finally reaching its peak and he falls over the edge as he lets it go. His hips never stop, slamming into you as the thick, warm fluid coats the inside of your pussy.

“Fuckin’ hell, luv,” he repeats as he shuts off the engine while he milks himself dry, his thrusts slowing down after a few seconds until they stop all together and he stays with his cock still buried inside you to let your body finish off the rest.

An unknown amount of time passes as your unsteady breathing slowly returns to a more tolerable rhythm, all the while Simon just sits there admiring the products of his labor: the beautiful flush in your cheeks and the contented, glazed look in your eyes, until he can find his voice again once his heartbeat has settled.

“Ya know, I’ve gotten plenty a compliments about my bike, but I gotta say that you’re the prettiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever rode, sweetheart,” he says as he pulls you in by the back of your head to press another breathless kiss onto your lips.

It is torture having to pull out of you, but even he isn’t delusional enough anymore to think that you can just stay like this for much longer. You’ll have to go soon and he needs to help you to redress as your legs are shaking uncontrollably. There’s no way in hell someone hasn’t heard the noise you’d been making.

“Was it everythin’ ya hoped?” he asks with a contented smile as he carefully moves you off the bike to your feet so that he can readjust your panties and pull down your skirt back around your hips.

You match his expression through the hazy afterglow of your ecstasy as he finishes you up and gets himself situated. A pretty sizable wet stain darkens the middle of his jeans, but he doesn’t pay it any mind; a risk of a good fucking time, that’s all.

“Better,” you murmur, satisfied.

Bringing his hand up he cups it against your cheek a second before he combs his fingers through your hair until he reaches the back of your head where he holds them wrapped in the strands. There’s one final thing he has to do before you get going and that is to give you one last kiss as praise for doing so well for him. With how strung out you still are from your orgasm, the gentleness of it makes your knees weak.

“Now how ‘bout we get back so we can go for round two?” he smirks against your mouth as he pulls away. “We can pretend I’m your bike and ya can show me how well I taught ya to ride.”

He gets you situated on the back of the bike, helmets and all, and restarts the engine. It bursts to life and that familiar vibration makes you squeeze your thighs together all over again. Simon smirks to himself before he turns to you with the visor still pulled up. He opens yours and leans in. “Keep your thighs tight. I want ya ta keep all that inside til we get back. I got plans to watch it leak out; I think I’ve earned it.”

With a mischievous chuckle, he closes your visor and his and takes off back out of the garage and into the cool night air. Good thing it isn’t far back to the house from here…if Simon doesn’t plan to take a detour first.

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