#HOLY SHIIIIITTTTTTTTT | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thyme-in-a-bubble · 4 months ago

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brb, urgently need to go have an orgasm or two before i pass out because holy fucking shiiiiittttttttt

Bigger in Texas

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel won’t fit.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Size kink (seriously, don’t read if you hate big dicks / disgusting descriptions) Penis and pussy pronouns. Virginity loss. Age gap. Praise kink. Daddy kink. Joel ‘hung like a fucking horse’ Miller is a soft dom and also a good teacher. Competence kink (?)

Note: Somebody made a fic challenge to use penis pronouns, and I can’t for the life of me remember who it was. If y’all find them please show them this and tell them I love their brain 🫠

This wasn’t the life Joel Miller had pictured for himself.

The dead coming back to roam the world and eradicate most of its population, for one. The cold. Finding his baby brother way out here in Wyoming with a wife and a child on the way. The looks he was getting these days. It’s not like he’d asked to get mixed up with a girl your age. It just happened. And since damn near every-fucking-thing that had “happened” to him since outbreak day fifteen years back had been bottom of the barrel, full-blown nightmare territory, the second he saw a good thing fumble across his path, he’d seized it—you.

You, who were young enough to be his daughter.

You, who’d never seen a man fully before meeting him.

You, who hadn’t squeezed so much as a finger in herself.

But much like his past, Joel Miller was a sordid and sick sort of man, and he had the cock to prove it: presently weeping precum at the site of your softest, tightest hole, smearing the pearly-white slick through your folds with a sound so sweet it was nauseating. Begging for entrance.

“Oughta have a boy your age pop your cherry, kid.”

It was simple.

“Ain’t right havin’ a man my age all in yours guts.”

And true.

The head of his cock made another wet, sickening noise through your folds, and as though instigated by the sound, your eyes flitted to the source. You smiled.

“Probably. But I want you,” you answered. Soft.

Joel got harder, and he hadn’t thought that was possible. His gaze joined yours, and the sight nearly finished him.

Beneath him, your legs had spread wider, showcasing that perfectly glistening seam alongside the head of his cock. He looked huge. Or you looked small. Or perhaps it was both, and he was old, and he really shouldn’t be doing this at all, but then his hips stuttered a bit and his length pushed in. Joel hissed and seized the headboard.

It wouldn’t even go in. The tip just stretched the rim.

“Baby, fuck—” Joel whimpered.

“He’s so big.”

Three little words from your lips, and it almost did him in.

Again.

You wriggled your hips and flashed another happy grin.

“He wants in, daddy. I can feel him pulsin’ like I am.”

You volleyed a look up to Joel and as if to say, ‘That means we’re ready, right? Will you let me have him?’

And, strangled by guilt as he was, Joel couldn’t resist.

He let his big, bulbous, leaking head sink in the tiniest bit, and he let out a groan. Your walls were so tight. This was him, too—his tip was oversized, just like the rest of him—and when it notched in an inch, Joel could see the pain flash quick in your eyes. His hips moved to retreat.

But then your heels were lifting and digging in his ass, and though strained, your voice made it out, weakly:

“Don’t, daddy. I want him.”

Joel couldn’t dream of refusing.

And his vision blurred more at that word, him.

“I-I know. He wants you too, baby—”

Another quarter-inch.

“—so, so bad.”

“Daddy!”

Joel had to blink to try and wake from his daze. His tip was so warm, hugged so perfect and snug and wet, that he didn’t even realize that was all that fit. He was stuck.

You whimpered again.

“‘S’too big, daddy. Just make him go in.”

Your eyes rolled with indignation and overwhelming pleasure alike, and your hips squirmed again. This time, you tried to nudge him in deeper, but your body simply wouldn’t budge; you’d reached the widest part of him.

“Honey, it’s—”

“Hurtin’! I need you inside me.” you cried, impatient.

“Just takes a little time to get there, darlin’—”

“Well, get to it, then. A tip ain’t enough.”

Joel’s face flushed. He might’ve been forced to bite back a laugh under any other circumstances, but this was your virginity. His bed. Your naked bodies, together, tonight.

He wasn’t going to rush this now and fuck it all up.

“This tip’s about to paint your pretty insides white and make you wait til next week to try again if you keep it up.”

That made you go still.

You shook your head while Joel released the headboard from his grip and took your hip in it instead. He grunted.

“Sweet pea, you gotta see—” he resumed, voice low, “—it won’t feel good for you or me if I just…push right in.”

You sighed, feeling his hold tighten.

“Tongue and fingers only do so much. You gotta learn.”

You whined, digging your feet in deeper when his tip drew back to your entrance. Looking a bit squeamish.

“Be brave…and patient for me.”

From the look in your eyes, Joel could tell you probably hated him right now. That was just fine. He adjusted his hips to a more comfortable place, and then he pinched your hip bone. He nudged you back, and he let you wait.

Then, right when you opened your mouth, he sank in.

Joel thrusted with only his tip, the size of a small lime, and he fucked your hole gently. Back and forth. Shallow.

It did enough. You squeezed both his forearms.

“Oh, daddy.” Your bottom lip trembled as you said it.

With his free hand, Joel smoothed your hair back.

“Yeah, what is it, baby?” he murmured, dulcet as ever, “Thought you said the tip ain’t enough for you, sugar.”

His words came slow. His strokes were delivered quick, though tenderly. Your brain appeared to be in a fog, or a trance, as your chin dipped down toward your chest, and you watched him breach the first inch of you repeatedly.

“Curious little thing.” Joel couldn’t fight the chuckle now.

“He’s so…” you trailed off.

You squeezed his arms, and he squeezed your hip back. He let you watch him fuck you with only his tip, and when your head began to tilt back from the strain, he reached up with his other hand and held the back of your neck. He felt you clench at that, and you both groaned.

“So…big,” you finished, eyes glazed.

“I know.”

This went on for the longest time: Joel stretching the first precious inch of your pussy with the head of himself, you watching and breathing deeply, whimpering occasionally, and him holding at the nape of your neck like a softer touch might lose you to him forever. Was this teaching? When you clenched again, he reckoned it was.

“That’s it, honey. Watch her swallow me.”

“Stretches real pretty for the tip, doesn’t she?”

“Bet she can’t even fit another inch of this cock.”

Suddenly, your head was jerking up under his hold.

Eyes flaring with a hot, juvenile kind of anger: “I can!”

Joel clicked his tongue against the backs of his teeth and pretended not to hear. He also had to feign indifference when your walls tightened and all but choked his head and a wave of new pleasure surged up through his body.

“She can, Joel, I’m serious!”

Another two seconds of this and Joel sensed he might see tears. Though his gaze had trailed up to yours, and the look in his appeared stern, deep down, he was just as quick to want to cave. He just hid it better than you did.

“You think so, sweet pea?”

“I know so. I need it.”

“Need him?”

“Y-Yes.”

How sweet you seemed. How naive you must be.

Joel might’ve been mean, but he wasn’t cruel. He also liked teaching lessons as much as he enjoyed showing you the way, so in the next second, he obliged. He took the last shallow thrust of his tip and sank into your cunt.

As he filled you, you whined. It only took an inch or two.

“Da-a-ddy. Please.”

You must’ve been begging for lenience. Joel retreated.

Then, much to the man’s surprise, you kicked your feet. Not in relief but in protest, shaking your head up at him:

“Put him back. Please. D-Deeper.”

It was as though Joel’s brain had exited through the back of his head and all rational thought escaped him, for the moment. The only voice he heard was yours. It was pleading. And in between your legs, you were soaked.

So drenched to allow him another inch. Then another. Then another. Joel fucked in gently and felt a seismic wave of pleasure seize his limbs—and likely yours, as well. It was as though in two blinks, you’d forgotten the pain altogether. You were suffused with need instead, eyes wincing and lips curling and sounds leaving your throat like an animal in heat. Want him deeper, please.

Joel sawed back and forth with just those four or so inches and made you writhe underneath him. Felt you clamp down on his thick, slippery cock and heard the remnants of your shared arousal making sounds as your body accepted him. Stretching wider. Getting wetter. Bringing him closer to the edge with every breath.

“She’s doin’…so good f’me,” Joel told you, brainless.

His thumb drifted to your clit. He rubbed it gently. No sooner had he finished the first circle around that nub when your hips were stirring again—this time incensed.

“Daddy.”

“I know, baby. I know.”

Joel kissed the top of your head, thumb insistent. When his eyes met yours, he was surprised to find them wet this time. Tears pooling and streaking down to your temples while your body bounced gently beneath his thrusts. A whimper trembled out, and Joel slowed.

He could tell from that look you didn’t want him to stop, though. It just felt so good. So, instead of dropping his pace too much, Joel cupped your chin in one hand, and with the other, he kept thumbing at your clit. Humming.

“Poor thing’s never had something this big in ‘er, huh?”

You shook your head. Cried a little more.

Joel kissed the tears on one side, lips smiling as he did.

“I can tell, baby. But she’s taking it so well.”

“Y-Yeah?”

His hips sped up a little. The thrusts were still shallower than they normally would be, given your state, but they were seemed to be working well enough. You winced.

Joel kissed the other side of your face to take more tears.

“Uh-huh,” he answered, “Openin’ up real nice for daddy.”

It was like his words worked as well as his thumb on your clit. You whimpered again, lips parting a little wider now, and the sound that came out was as desperate and feverish and fuck-drunk as Joel had ever heard it.

“S-Say it again,” you pleaded.

“Say what?”

“That he’s…stretchin’ me open. Makin’ me his.”

The soft, slick resonance between your body and his seemed to amplify even more—you were getting wetter, and Joel’s thrusts all but shook the bed with their force.

His eyes darkened when he felt you tighten again.

“Yeah? You like hearin’ all the filthy fuckin’ things your daddy’s doing? The way he’s breakin’ you in for him?”

You nodded. Your throat constricted with a moan.

And, just when a fresh set of tears seemed to be close on the horizon, Joel lowered himself to you. He held you to his chest, hips working relentlessly, and he watched your face screw up in pleasure. A trace of pain flared again, but it was soothed with a kiss. Joel grinned against you.

Between your thighs, his cock was throbbing with a feeling just as big. He knew he couldn’t keep this up much longer. Hurting and aching and needing as you were, he had to make sure that you would cum first.

When his cock grazed a fleshy, sensitive patch inside your walls, he knew it wouldn’t take much. He went on:

“C’mon, sugar. Daddy’s split you open on his cock so nice, least you can do is cum for him. Can you do that?”

His nose brushed yours. His thrusts sped up. You nodded, quickly, and when he shifted in the bed with his thumb still on your clit and his lips and his stubble grazing your mouth with every push of himself, he felt it.

It was a small pulse, at first.

Joel thought you might be adjusting—clenching—again, when the lips that were trembling against his parted more. Your arms wound around his neck, and suddenly the throb of your walls around his member got tighter and tighter and tighter. One more second and your cunt might’ve squeezed the hot, sticky seed right out of his body and flooded your insides with it, but then came release. The ‘o’ of your mouth let out a shriek, at last, and your body went soft around him, beneath him, whining in turn, ‘Daddy, daddy, please’ while the muscles once taut and unflinching gave him reprieve. Fluttering repeatedly.

Joel fucked you through it. He talked you through it.

He stroked your hair, and he held you tight. Called you his sweetheart, pretty thing, perfect girl, you’re doin’ so good f’me. Keep going. That’s right, cum all over daddy. He told you to take what you needed, and without another word, he felt just that. Your cunt spasmed around him, and you consumed every inch he gave and drank every drop of spend shooting out in thick spurts.

You fell boneless on the bed when all was said and done.

You looked happy, and that made Joel even happier.

He stroked your cheek, and you leaned into it, clearly drained while your gaze held his in a weak sort of look.

It was soft. Loving, even. It could’ve been romantic.

Then Joel’s hand slipped down to the nape of your neck again. Your muscles were limp, like all the rest of you, but somehow, he was able to hold you up. Tilt your chin a bit.

Make you peer down between your shaking legs, where his cock was still sheathed inside you—partly, anyway.

Your eyes widened. Joel grinned.

“You did good, baby. Ready for the other half of him?”

#fic rec

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shrimpypenis · 4 years ago

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HOLY SHIIIIITTTTTTTTT✋🏼👁��✋🏼

Omfg those girls that came to help Reader🥺🥺

pov: he’s a racer and you’re the finish line.

tooru oikawa x f!reader (feat. atsumu miya)

summary: driven by the thrill of illegal street racing, an esteemed racer from Miyagi shows up and makes a tough bet against your abusive boyfriend in exchange for you.

genre: angst, streetracer au

warnings: illegal street racing, mentions of gambling, abuse/abusive relationships, swearing, violence, drug use, atsumu and oikawa as rivals

a/n: highly inspired from this beautiful fanart and from the 2 Fast 2 Furious movie bc i’m in love with it (missing brian o’conner hours). i had to cut it into three parts bc it’s super long. and also!! i love atsumu w all my heart pls note that his character here is not the way i depict him irl :>

masterlist.

[1/3]

Sometimes you wished you could run away.

You thought about leaving everything behind and moving to a different city, a different environment, away from this scene that was once a heaven but had turned into hell. It wasn’t like you had any choice but you were dreaming of the idea because you knew it was possible. You knew you could run away and live on your own, perhaps not now, but when you finally had the opportunity to do so.

“Just go check the engine and see it for yourself!”

For the past hour, you’ve spent your time exhaustingly listening to your boyfriend yell at his phone and completely lose his temper over something trivial. If you were honest, you didn’t wish to be sitting next to him right now but there was almost no escape to the sound of his loud voice as you find yourself inside his car that was parked at the side of an empty road in front of a local 7Eleven.

The frown on Atsumu’s face was easily noticeable along with his furrowed brows and clenched jaws. This facial expression was something you’d gotten used to seeing lately and you wanted to see him smile, even for a brief second, because you could barely remember the last time he ever genuinely looked happy next to you.

“I fucking told you I’ll get there on time!” he yelled angrily, almost crushing the phone on his veiny hand. “Stop asking stupid questions, ‘Samu!”

You let out a weary sigh. Poor Osamu.

His twin had to deal with Atsumu’s temperamental attitude and mood swings that only got worse recently because he was often under the influence of drugs. Neither you and Osamu could stop the guy from taking the substance until it came to a point where you just gave up. It was futile. The only two things that Atsumu lived for were street racing and drugs. He claimed it always gets him pumped to race against the best racers in Hyogo in hopes of winning a hefty sum of cash.

6 years ago, Atsumu was still fairly new to the street racing scene, only ever sticking to his Hyogo usuals, and rarely meeting the real guys that defined the street racing culture in all Japan.

6 years after and he still knew only handful of racers outside Hyogo because he rarely participated out-of-town races despite being known as the best in their prefecture. He had been invited to join races in Tokyo but he never dared to drive all the way there to prove himself because he claimed that ‘Tokyo is not the standard’. The thing about Atsumu was how he believed people were underneath him and that he didn’t need the number of experience to prove that he was the best. In Atsumu’s brain, he simply just had to beat the best racer of them all and that would instantly put him to the top. He believed respect was something innate to him, not something he had to earn.

But other than reality punching his gut, he was also a sore loser. Not that Atsumu had ever been defeated before, but he hated the mere idea of losing so he’d challenge anyone and everyone that were a threat to his reputation. He’d often wager heck loads of cash to lure racers in and beat them while shoving it in their faces.

“‘Samu, I’ll talk to you later,” Atsumu hissed on his phone, reaching for the pack of cigarettes that he had placed on the cup holder. “Useless piece of shit.”

“Relax,” you asserted. “You don’t wanna stress yourself before your race later.”

After realizing that his pack was, in fact, empty, he crumpled the small carton on his hand and took out a bill from his pocket. The same bill he was holding was later thrown to your direction before he gestured his head over to the store. “Buy me a pack,” he ordered in a nonchalant tone, treating you like a dog that could go fetch things for him.

What a prick.

“You don’t have to be such a fuckin’ asshole.” Although you were angry at his rude behavior, you still picked up the money he’d carelessly thrown and removed your seat belt—all these while muttering, “I swear one day I’m gonna leave your ass.”

“Say what?” He eyed you questioningly, to intimidate you which he found normal to do.

You chose to get out of the car before he could say anything further. “Nothing.”

“Whatever, bitch. Just get it fast!”

You slammed the door on his face and dragged your feet towards the store in frustration. The cold air from the airconditioning and the smell of the convenience store food greeted you as soon as you got inside. Only the checkout person was in there and you would have obliged to Atsumu’s request of buying him a cigarette ‘fast’ but the rudeness in his tone made you want to stall a little.

With a small and nasty scoff leaving your lips, you first headed towards the beverage section instead to get yourself a Mitsuya Cider. However, as you grab hold of the last standing bottle on the fridge, your hand came in contact into another person who held the same drink as you.

“I saw it first,” he promptly claimed, side-eyeing you to uphold his authority.

The guy was tall with tanned skin that matched his bronze hair and caramel eyes, but those weren’t his most noticeable traits. It was the bandaid on his cheek, the dragon tattoo on his neck that extended to his forearm, and the multiple piercings on his ear—all adding to the intimidation from his overall look. You found it quite contradicting that he had a cute, pretty boy face while also carrying a scary, bad boy aura around him. Fact was: you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive.

Still, you snorted, holding onto the bottle tighter. No matter how handsome he was, you weren’t going to give him the pretty privilege. “I held it first, piss off.”

“I like girls who fight back.” He displayed a mirthless smile as he refused to let go, now looking at your face with great interest. “I’ll let you have it if you answer my survey.”

Survey? You rolled your eyes, raising an eyebrow afterwards, “What survey?”

The guy slipped his hand from inside the pocket of his ripped jeans before pulling out his phone. “You see, just put your name in here and your phone number for reference.”

You hated how he was grinning so smugly but at the same time, you found his boldness entertaining. He was shooting his shot and you could tell by his stance that he expected you to give in.

“Nice try. I have a boyfriend,” you informed, remembering that you were keeping a guy with anger management issues waiting in his car.

The brown-haired guy shrugged. “So? I don’t see him.”

“You don’t wanna see him.” You released the bottle on your hand. “He’s insane.”

Literally, because not even a few seconds after, Atsumu showed up from behind you with a heavy frown on his face. “The fuck’s takin’ you so long?!” He noticed the guy standing on your other side and scowled before turning back to you. “Give me the fucking money! I’ll buy the pack myself.”

You really thought he would incite a fight, or at least an argument against the brown haired guy, but it caught you off guard when he simply stormed off and paid for the pack of cigarette he’d badly wanted to get.

Perhaps there was just a lot going on his head for him to even give a shit about you talking to another guy. Or, maybe, he just didn’t care that much anymore.

“He seems pleasant,” the brown-haired guy commented, grabbing the bottle and handing it to you. “It’s yours. Just remember my name, it’s Tooru Oikawa.”

He said all that with a mischievous wink before he walked out of the store just after you paid for your stuff.

And, honestly...

Why did you ever think that Atsumu was all fine and dandy with it?

Because when you walked out of the store, you saw him on the sidewalk throwing a cold-blooded punch on Tooru’s face.

“What the hell, Atsumu!”

You hurried next to Tooru who simply laughed despite the blood on his mouth that he easily spat out. “You know what happens to people who marks this pretty face?” he jeered at your boyfriend.

Atsumu glared at him, unfazed. “I don’t give a shit. Back off my girl or you won’t live to see the next sunrise.”

“Bring it on, blondie.”

“Stop it!” you yelled, pulling Atsumu away and sending Tooru an apologetic look.

While the the two guys sent each other a death stare, you insisted on keeping Atsumu away from him because you knew the danger that awaited Tooru if this escalated. You knew by experience that your boyfriend could be an extremely violent guy, especially when he was fueled by anger and you certainly didn’t want to witness another epidode of it.

You were successful at making your boyfriend back off, however it seemed that his irritation had shifted onto you because he harshly shoved you inside his black and gold Nissan GT-R. If not for your good reflexes, you would have hit your head at the roof of his car but you managed to get inside even with the pain searing on your shoulder.

Before you knew it, Atsumu already revved up his engine and drove the car off at once—speeding on the street without a single care in the world. There was absolutely just silence inside, not a single music playing on his stereo except for the sound of his roaring engine, and it went on for a couple more minutes until he spoke again in an authoritative voice.

“You’re bold for tryna flirt with another guy in front of me.” He gritted his teeth with eyes on the road. “Do it again or I’ll fucking strangle you.”

A bitter laugh naturally left your lips. He was surely good at this whole threatening game. “You’re one to talk, Atsumu. I’m not the serial cheater between the two of us.”

You frankly lost count of the amount of times that Atsumu had cheated on you with different girls that he met from every race and you were certain that he’d probably fuck one of those skanks again tonight, so it was hypocritical for him to act jealous now.

“So you’re gonna get back at me?” He snorted of overflowing sarcasm.

You kept a straight face. “If I fuck another guy, that’s none of your business at this point.”

You were proud of yourself for saying that to him but Atsumu’s sudden tight grip on your jaw stopped the sarcastic smile from tugging at your lips. At that moment, you could only feel anxiety building up. This was painfully how your relationship with him has become—him, being abusive and you, taking all the abuse because you had no other choice.

Your reason for staying? You practically spent all your life being grateful for his family for welcoming you in with them after your parents died in a car crash when you were 8 years old. You had no one else. If Atsumu’s parents weren’t close enough with your own parents like family, nobody would have adopted you and you’d most likely be homeless.

Eventually, living with the Miya’s also meant that you got closer to the twins, just a little bit more to Atsumu than Osamu because of, well, love. Once upon a distant time when Atsumu was still completely lovable and sweet, you fell in love with him after years of trying to win your heart.

However, he drastically changed and your feelings changed, too. You were no longer sure if your reason for staying with him was still driven by just love, because you knew that that same love had turned into loathe.

Even if you and Atsumu had moved in together by yourselves, it only opened more flaws into your relationship because he was getting more and more comfortable at physically hurting you knowing that he was going to get away with it.

Because you’d end up forgiving him and you had no where else to go.

“You’re not in the position to talk back,” he spitefully reminded you, leaving warm tears filling your eyes from his strong hold on your jaw. He harshly released your face and continued driving, never saying sorry and never telling you he loved you.

———————————————————————

It was pretty quick for Osamu to point out the light marks on your jaw once he realized that they weren’t hickeys at all. They were bruises from his twin brother after he had almost choked you this afternoon because of his unwarranted jealousy. The better twin didn’t approve of his brother’s violence, however he couldn’t really persuade him into fixing his attitude because Atsumu wouldn’t listen to anyone but himself.

Besides, you weren’t their main concern for the night.

Tonight, you were at an abandoned parking lot with the Miya Twins, Suna, and Kita along with the other spectators who were all awaiting for another race to happen. Cars of different brands, designs, and modifications were all lined up in display for everyone to see. Every racer has their own crew and supporters cheering for them to possibly snatch the crown from the undefeated Atsumu Miya. Even though the whole place was pretty much loud, you could still hear someone blasting Act A Fool from their stereo with girls in mini skirts and crop tops surrounding the area. This had been a typical scene for you for the last 4 years of being known as Atsumu’s ‘trophy girlfriend’. He was putting you on display because you were always watching his races on the sideline even when he hardly ever paid attention to you.

That was also the reason why no one had dared to ask you out because, even if Atsumu was an open cheater, he would still threaten guys who ever tried to get near you.

“You showed up late,” Suna pointed out while sitting on the hood of his modified maroon Toyota GT86. Suna was the second best racer in the crew, albeit still considered a rookie for having lesser races than Atsumu.

“Fuck off,” was Atsumu’s answer before he left you alone standing next to his car as he went to meet Aran Ojiro, the race host/organizer for all the street races in Hyogo.

Since the moment you two arrived, Atsumu had never spoken another word to you and it left you hurt and most definitely infuriated. He was acting like you were the one who grabbed him by the jaw enough to bruise his face and frankly, you were growing tired of all the things he was doing to you.

“He hurt you again, huh,” Kita noted, briefly glancing at the light marks on your jawline. Kita was the contact of the crew—he was in charge of delivering messages and other information to the crew such as when the next race would be or if there were any cops on standby. He was the main man in terms of communication between the other gangs and the event hosts.

You touched your neck and wished you should have worn a turtleneck instead of the beige tank top and mini skirt because you realized that the bruises were far too obvious even at night time. “He didn’t really hurt me.”

“You don’t have to lie for that bastard.” There was a look of disapproval that came from Osamu when he shut down the hood of his brother’s car after carefully checking the car parts as the crew’s mechanic. “Just break up with him.”

He was only stating the truth because as you looked at Atsumu, he was far too busy entertaining some of the dumb bitches that surrounded him, whispering on his ear and playing with the collar of his shirt like a bunch of desperate whores. He even held one girl on the ass like he didn’t have a girlfriend watching him.

“Go fuck yourself, Atsumu. I hope you lose tonight,” you muttered from a distance, crossing your arm and sitting next to Sunarin who suppressed a cackle.

“Don’t wish that, we need the money too,” Suna joked, nudging your arm playfully. “Hey, why don’t you start racing? You can borrow my car and race for a pink slip so you can get your own.”

The term ‘racing for pink slips’ simply meant that you’d be able to obtain the opponent’s car as a prize if you won the race. You’ve thought about doing it before but you just weren’t confident that Atsumu would easily let you. Having your own car meant you’d have your own freedom to do what you wanted which was what he didn’t want.

“I don’t know,” you answered with a shrug. “Come on, Suna. Don’t act like you’d ever let me touch this baby of yours.”

He silently laughed as he played with his car keys. “Maybe you’re an exception ‘cause you’re a sister to me and I trust your driving skills.”

“My driving skills, huh.” You shook your head in good humor. “How’s the chick from your neighborhood that owned a pink Honda S2k?”

You brought it up because you remembered that there was a girl that Suna literally challenged for a race many times before but he always somehow ended up losing to her. You had a theory that maybe Sunarin liked her despite antagonizing the girl at every race, but you couldn’t also deny that she was a good driver overall.

It seemed that Kita caught on and proposed the same theory, “I swear you like her. This whole rival thing is just a front.”

“No, the fuck I don’t,” Suna quickly denied, absolutely detesting the thought.

Before you could even respond, a scene-stealer and perfectly modified electric blue Chevrolet Corvette pulled up in the middle of the lined cars completely taking everyone’s full attention. Literally everyone in the parking lot stopped what they were doing as they all turned to the gorgeous car in both curiosity and amazement.

“Woah, woah! Is that a Corvette C7?” some guy fanboyed from the other side of the parking lot.

“Think it’s a C8 Stingray, bro!”

“Sick car!” Suna gushed, just as awestruck along with the other racers and spectators. He even took out his phone to snap a quick photo of it.

However, it wasn’t the car that surprised you the most, it was the driver.

As soon as the owner got out of his car, you almost shit your pants at the sight of him. The brown hair, the tattoos, the smirk—they were all familiar to you.

“Tooru Oikawa,” you spoke in utter surprise. He asked you not to forget his name and you definitely couldn’t.

You watched the guy earn looks of intrigue from everyone like a famous celebrity as he made his way to greet Aran who was collecting bets for tonight’s race. You couldn’t hear their conversation because the song Like A Pimp was playing from a stereo nearby, however you did notice that Oikawa and Aran seemed to know each other well.

You just couldn’t believe it. It felt like such a crazy coincidence that the man that flirted with you earlier was a street racer after all because it was the least you expected from him.

“You know the guy?” Osamu asked you, eyeing Oikawa who was grinning at whatever Aran was saying to him.

You nodded with your eyes still stuck on the said guy. “Yeah. We, uh, bumped into him this afternoon.”

Fuck. You were suddenly reminded of how Atsumu punched this guy in the face after he had asked for your number.

And funnily enough, all the girls that flocked Atsumu were now directing their attention towards this newcomer. You couldn’t blame them. It seemed to have riled your boyfriend up because his hands were balled into fists as soon as the two guys recognized each other. Tooru wasn’t affected, in fact, they faced each other like two boxers preparing for a brawl. His face was simply smug and definitely the annoying kind of smug.

“Oh no,” you mumbled, pulling Suna and the crew towards them. “They had an altercation earlier. We need to prevent another fight.”

By the time you came to Atsumu’s side, you could already hear the insults and remarks coming out of your boyfriend’s mouth. Jesus.

“So what’re you tryna do here, huh?” he taunted, keeping a strict eye contact with Tooru. “Showing off your daddy’s car?”

There were ‘oohs’ that collectively came from the crowd as you all watched the two run their mouths. Tooru, on the other hand, was even more entertained and something told you that this was also the kind of scene that he was used to.

“Not sure ‘bout that,” Tooru responded, derisively. “I’m not the one driving daddy’s old GTR. Yours is more expensive than mine after all, ain’t it?”

Atsumu was quick to grab him by the shirt. “Watch it, punk.”

Your instinct led you to get in between and separate the two for the second time today. Suna and Osamu helped with holding Atsumu back while Tooru’s eyes finally found yours at that exact moment.

His lips instantly formed its trademark smirk just as he completely glued his gaze on you and never even bothering to look away. This very act was a declaration of war against Atsumu, because although knowing that you already had a boyfriend, Tooru was still pursuing you.

“What’s up, baby,” Tooru greeted you with a wink, causing your boyfriend to fume in jealousy.

“Tooru, what are you doing here?” you asked, feeling all eyes on the two of you.

He didn’t even show the slightest interest towards anyone else but you. And even more, he seemed to have loved the fact that you referred to him by his first name. “Just thought it’d be fun to crash out-of-town races, plus I don’t wanna miss out on seeing a hot chick like you.”

Is he crazy?

Atsumu began laughing in disbelief. “I knew you’re not from here. Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?”

“Aran knows who the fuck I am,” Tooru answered, mocking Atsumu’s tone of voice before urging for Aran to speak up.

“Aight, this guy’s the Grand King from Miyagi,” Aran then explained, much to everyone’s shock.

The fucking Grand King?!

You’ve heard enough about him from some of the racers who did out-of-town races, and from what you’ve heard, Tooru got the moniker ‘Grand King’ because he would crash out-of-town races just to beat every single gang and crew leaders from all prefectures across Japan. Well, except Hyogo for now, but this was obviously on his list.

He was that good.

He was also insane, because no one in Miyagi was good enough to beat him which was why he would travel to every prefecture just to fill himself the thrill he wanted.

“Grand King, my fuckin’ ass,” Atsumu spat, pulling your arm roughly while looking at him. “Race me.”

You winced from Atsumu’s hold, whispering a silent “ouch” as his nails dug onto your skin. Oikawa noticed this because his eyes flickered in anger for a brief second.

“Let her go,” he ordered, only to receive your boyfriend’s sarcastic chuckle.

“I’ll do what I fucking want with her,” he claimed. “She’s mine.”

You tried to jerk your arm to no avail. “Atsumu, you’re hurting me—”

“Stop hurting her, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu commanded.

Atsumu became pissed at that. “Shut yer trap!” he yelled at his brother’s face before releasing you.

Your chest was aching along with the red marks on your forearm. Suna immediately pulled you behind him and stood to protect you while Atsumu continued his conversation with Oikawa.

“What, too scared to race me?” Atsumu mocked, pushing Oikawa’s chest to incite a brawl. “I thought you’re the Grand King, huh?”

“Ooh.. Fight! Fight! Fight!”

“I’m not scared to lose and I hate guys who have bigger mouths than their car’s engine,” Oikawa retorted in a firmer stance. “Let’s race. If I lose, you get my car and I’ll pay you a hundred grand to match the GTR’s price. Clean and clear.”

What the—

The stakes were high for Atsumu and everyone else were shocked at the offer Oikawa just gave him. Seriously. A hundred fucking grand and a Chevy Corvette C8—nobody in their right mind would reject this chance.

“You willing to say good bye to your car that easily?” your boyfriend sneered, already claiming his victory.

However, the Grand King remained confident. “I have a McLaren at home. I’m not worried about a Chevy, bro.”

The audience broke into hoots of laughter. Even Suna and Kita couldn’t prevent themselves from displaying an impressed smile. Something about Tooru Oikawa being unbothered about losing his Corvette because he had a freaking McLaren car definitely just thrashed on Atsumu’s superiority complex.

With this, Atsumu huffed in total aggravation. “And if I lose?”

“Simple.” Oikawa’s eyes met yours. “I get her.”

You froze from your spot as you looked into his eyes and just couldn’t wrap your mind around the deal he just made. Your heart doubled a beat and raced like it was on its sixth gear because never in a million years did you think that you were going to be wagered into a fucking street race like you were some kind of a trophy.

This is was just absurd.

You furrowed your brows. “Are you crazy—”

“Fine.” Atsumu’s answer completely shocked you along with the audience.

Fine? Did he literally just agree to hand you over to a stranger? Was it that easy for him to lose you like you didn’t build a relationship for the last few years? Over a fucking bet? You knew Atsumu no longer loved you like he used to but this was the peak of it.

“You know you can’t try to get her back once she’s mine, right?” Oikawa warned, watching Atsumu’s expression closely.

You were honestly offended at how they didn’t even consider your feelings before deciding on their crazy bet.

“Yeah,” Atsumu answered, clenching his fist to restrain his anger. “You can have her, but you have to get through me first.”

“Atsumu,” you snarled. “How fucking dare you.”

“Piss off,” he told you, watching Oikawa’s scoff from the way the guy completely disregarded your feelings.

It didn’t take long until the actual race was set and the audience surrounded the two. Aran later checked the modifications between both cars to decide if it would be a fair fight and all the while, Suna was doing his best to comfort you on the side.

“It’d be okay,” he said, rubbing your back.

Osamu ended up checking under the hood of Atsumu’s black and gold Nissan GT-R even though he already knew all of its specifications by heart. “Engine is a twin-turboed 3.6 liter V-6 with Nitrous Express in-car nitrous system,” he announced to an impressed crowd. “Also an intercooler and a 545 horsepower.”

“Top speed?” Aran asked, turning to the car’s owner.

“220mph,” Atsumu boasted, sending his opponent a nasty look.

Oikawa just nodded in agreement. “Not bad.”

Soon enough, they went over to the Chevrolet Corvette C8 and Osamu was greatly surprised when he checked what was under the hood.

“Engine is a 6.2 liter LT2 small-block V-8. He’s got a Lingenfelter Extreme-S exhaust and a NOS fogger system,” Osamu explained, turning to Aran who then looked at Oikawa.

“Top speed?”

The brown-haired guy shrugged. “200 minus the nitro.”

“No downplay?”

“You’ve seen it, bro.”

You could see the winning smile on Atsumu’s face at the fact that his car could go faster by 20mph and it made you roll your eyes heavily. No matter how fast his car was, it would always depend on the skill. Atsumu only ever cared about the speed than the strategy and the only reason he kept winning was because he owned one of the fastest cars.

“Aight, we good?” Aran clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention before he looked at the two racers. “All good? The race is a 5km stretch along the construction site. We got people bordering the area so you know the path. First one to get back wins.”

“Sounds good, man.” Oikawa grinned, making all the girls fall for his charm. He only appeared today, but he had already gained lots of fangirls.

Meanwhile, you were surprised when Atsumu approached you from where you stood and pulled you in for a rough kiss—in front of everybody—which he rarely did. And when he pulled away, he looked at you with less affection but more rage. “Get in the fucking car with me. I’ll show this prick who owns you.”

“I-I don’t—!” You couldn’t even decline because he already gripped your arm and pushed you inside while Oikawa watched in displeasure.

“Kissing her in front of me won’t make me want her any less,” Oikawa sniggered for one last time before getting in his car and Atsumu flicked him off soon after that.

“This is fucking stupid,” you hissed under your breath, leaning your head on the window with a frown.

The two guys revved their engine up as their cars were side by side in front of the red line. Aran stood in the middle to discuss the rules, the wager, and all the shit they needed to know before the race. You knew the two guys weren’t even listening because they kept glancing at each other tauntingly, with Atsumu staring daggers at Oikawa and Oikawa giving him a sardonic peace sign in return.

Despite the guy’s sarcastic wit, you didn’t miss the flash of sincerity when Oikawa briefly looked at you, most likely telling himself that he’d do whatever it took to win you. What you couldn’t really understand was why he chose you as the prize because this was just unreasonable. He must have wanted something else—something more.

And yet, this was the first time that someone was genuinely fighting for you.

As the flagger finally counted down to 1, Atsumu hit the gas pedal and immediately accelerated the car at a speed faster than you’ve ever seen him do. It was clear as day that Atsumu was fueled by anger and driven by the motivation to beat the other guy. And, you realized, it definitely wasn’t just about you. He was seizing the opportunity of dethroning the Grand King now that it was in his hands, whether he loses you or not, he was gearing more towards his pride and reputation than to keep you by his side.

To be fucking honest? It sucked.

Knowing that your boyfriend cared more about anything else than your own feelings. In the first place, he never regarded your feelings whenever he physically hurt you and now he was also disregarding you emotionally. Osamu was right—what was stopping you from just simply breaking up with him?

The fear of loneliness? The fear of being abandoned? It wasn’t enough for you to take all of the abuse and you should have realized that sooner.

“You know I’m not just an object, right?” you stated, watching him shift his gears aggressively.

“Shut the hell up!” he snapped, glancing at the rear view mirror as he went pass the Corvette. “I don’t know why that punk likes you so much but I’m not gonna let him touch my things.”

His words made you scoff, bitterly. “I’m a thing?”

“I said shut up, will you?!” He steered the car to the left with a scowl. “You’d be on the streets if we didn’t take you. You should humble yourself.”

His words hurt ten times worse than the pain he ever inflicted on your body. That was what you’ve been doing all this fucking time—not being able to leave because you felt like you owed him and his family for the life they gave you, but here he was pouring salt to the wound.

“You’ve changed, Atsumu,” you said, swallowing the bile forming on your throat. He didn’t even listen to you. He was too busy grumbling as Oikawa’s car drafted closely from behind.

His engine roared and you could hear Atsumu cursing under his breath as he made another turn.

Surprisingly, Oikawa skillfully oversteered his car and drifted with much precision until he was able to catch up in speed. The sound of his screeching tires rang on your ears for a few seconds, and in less than a minute, his car was head-to-head with Atsumu’s.

Oikawa’s face was visible from his window as he looked at your boyfriend, pulling a v-sign below his mouth and displaying his tongue in between—bluntly mocking your boyfriend with the sexual act that he planned on doing to you, whether or not it was genuine.

You weren’t going to lie. Oikawa’s sarcastic and carefree nature almost earned a chuckle out of you, but this caused enough rage for Atsumu to hit the NOS button.

It felt like your heart fell to your stomach when the car accelerated to a dangerous speed. The sound of the turbo was deafeningly loud that you’d think you were speeding off to another dimension.

“What’chu got now, huh?!” Atsumu derided, laughing in absolute mockery.

It was the last turn.

You clutched the seatbelt as you watched his speedometer go from 180 to 200, but not long until he saw a roadblock sign that ultimately caused him to panic.

“Watch out!” you nervously exclaimed.

Atsumu steered the car to the left and ended up losing his control for a brief second.

A mere 3 seconds.

But those seconds were enough for Oikawa to catch up again and utilize his own NOS, boosting his car with the power of nitrous.

“Aghh!” Atsumu pressed his foot on the accelerator in extreme anger, chasing Oikawa very closely and bumping into him side by side. “I’m not letting you win!”

For the first time throughout the race, you saw Oikawa’s serious face and how clearly focused he was in reaching the finish line with enough determination. His vision was only on the finish line and his focus could not be broken.

Good for him, because he did win by an inch.

Because you were his finish line.

The crowd ran and surrounded Oikawa’s car after he won the race while Atsumu pulled up behind and stayed in the car. He took long, deep breaths of frustration and you suddenly felt scared that he wasn’t going to take his defeat lightly.

“Atsumu, it’s—”

“You wanted this, right?” he suddenly spoke, chest rising and falling with his restrained temper. He soon grabbed a handful of your hair and looked at you with furious eyes. “You wanted to go to him! You wanted me to lose!”

“Atsumu, get... off—” You tried to pull his hand away from your hair. You expected he would take his anger at you like he always did, but not as soon as now. “Stop being a fucking dick to me! You’re the one who can’t race for shit!”

“You think I didn’t fucking see how you looked at him, huh?”

“Let me go!”

You were grateful when the crew came and Osamu was banging Atsumu’s window to get him to stop hurting you. His grip was strong but you managed to reach the lock with your other hand which was enough for Suna to open your door and help you off Atsumu’s hold.

“Dude, that’s enough,” Suna demanded, finally removing your bastard boyfriend’s hands off you with the help of Kita.

You didn’t realize that you were already a crying mess as soon as you got out of the car and the crowd’s attention had shifted onto you. Particularly a very angry Oikawa.

Some girls approached your side in both worry and concern.

“Hey, are you alright?”

“Are you okay?”

You couldn’t answer the kind girls that reached out to you because your eyes were fixated on Oikawa who was heading towards Atsumu to throw a hard punch on his face.

“Get your fuckin’ hands off her. You don’t hurt a girl like that!” Oikawa glowered at the guy, readying himself in case Atsumu fought back but Osamu and Kita held him tight.

“Race me again!” Atsumu proposed in utter vexation.

However, Oikawa had already turned his back and headed towards you.

“I don’t race losers,” he merely said, earning a growl from your now ex-boyfriend.

When your breathing had calmed down, you could see Atsumu trying to argue with Oikawa but the man’s attention was all on you.

“You good?” he asked, to which you nodded.

Before anyone could even speak again, there was a siren going off from a distance and the crowd quickly dispersed, with someone yelling, “Cops! Cops!” and it didn’t take long for the cars to drive off in every direction.

“Get in my car,” Oikawa insisted, opening the door to his Corvette.

“Y/N!” Atsumu yelled, eyeing you with authority and urging you to go to him. “You’re not going with him!”

You didn’t stay to see his reaction. “It’s over, Atsumu.”

———————————————————————

It was an exhausting night and the whole high-speed police car chase added to the rollercoaster of emotions that you just went through. But despite all that, there were also many things that you noticed about Oikawa while you rode with him in his car.

a) He was a really good driver

He managed to escape the cops’ line of sight by speeding off the freeway without causing damages or any casualties. At one point, he even drove in a narrow distance between two huge trucks while nearing 200mph.

b) He was pretty fucking smart

He was knowledgeable enough on how the police operates which was exactly why he managed to dodge the EMPs (Electro Magnetic Pulse) that the police officers tried to shoot on his car.

“What were those?” you inquired as he drove away from the city.

He glanced from his side mirror and then back to you. “They’re these hi-tech car zappers or tasers if you’re more familiar with that. If you get hit by one, it delivers a blast of radio waves powerful enough to knock out vital engine electronics, making the targeted vehicle stall and slowly come to a stop. That way they can catch and arrest you.”

You literally had no idea that those things even existed. “You’ve been arrested before, have you?” you asked, not meaning to offend him, but just out of curiosity.

His lips then spread into a smile. “No, they always give up on chasing me.”

———————————————————————

At 1AM, you realized that he was driving more relaxed after the cops had completely stopped pursuing him and then it clicked to you that this guy was now driving out of Hyogo.

“Where are we going?” you asked, looking at the road signage in panic.

He manned the steering wheel with one hand. “Home.”

You looked at him in surprise while your heart started thumping loud. Frankly, it still hasn’t sunk in that this guy won you as a prize and you had no single idea what he had in mind.

He quickly noticed the expression on your face and huffed, “You don’t wanna go back to that bastard, don’t you?”

It was an 11-hour drive from Hyogo to Miyagi so you definitely could not come back as easily as you wanted, but you also realized, you did want this. You had the chance to finally leave your life with Atsumu and start somewhere new. This was your cue. This was the perfect opportunity to do it.

Still, Oikawa was a stranger and would remain a stranger for the time being.

“N-No, but,” you hesitated, looking away. “I don’t trust you.”

“You can trust me not to hurt you like he does,” he said, turning his stereo on. “Relax. It’s a long drive and I’m not a serial killer, by the way.”

He offered a chuckle as you eased on your seat, taking a small blanket that he reached from the backseat while he kept a playful hand on your thigh. The song Tokyo Drift was playing from his bass-boosted stereo and gosh, you wished you could just keep watching him drive so attractively.

But there was another thing on your mind that was bothering you and you only got the courage to say it as he pulled up at a driveway of a motel in the middle of fucking nowhere.

“Tooru?”

“Mm?”

You looked at his caramel eyes. “What are we?”

“Whatever you want us to be.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

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