#Leather Bike Bag | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

neimaami · 27 days ago

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You dream about me? (M)

SYNOPSIS: Jungkook takes you out to eat...except food isn't the only thing he's having tonight. aka, he fucks you against his bike :)

WARNINGS : SMUT, unprotected sex (this is purely fantasy! I condone safe sex), dirty talk, titty sucking, fingering, multiple orgasms, JK pretending he's a bad boy but he's actually a sweetheart, FLUFF, non-establish relationship, friends to lovers (?)

word count: 5.3k

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Your usually neat and respectable bedroom was an absolute disaster.

The one thing your parents had drilled into your head, over and over again since the moment you were born—was how to behave like a woman. You had old parents. A mother and father who were two whole generations behind yours. Parents with mindsets set in stone—unchanging, no matter what. It wasn’t exactly torture growing up with them, but it did come with a whole lot of expectations—ones that no longer fit into modern day society.

One of them being, ‘a lady should have a clean room no matter what, in order to appear civilised and educated’ two words come to mind - fuck that. You were a woman through and through, whether your room was in pristine condition, or if your room looked like a pig sty, which was currently the latter. Putting together an outfit you never imagined yourself wearing wasn’t easy—especially one that went against everything you’d been taught. So why did something so wrong feel so damn good?

Usually, your closet was full of bright, pastel colours, ones that rightfully represented your outgoing and bubbly personality. Even though most of your articles of clothing were picked out by your mother, somehow your tastes aligned…for the most part. Sometimes she’d show up with a shopping bag full of crocheted ponchos and actually expected you to wear them. That is one thing you refused to wear - ponchos. They were unflattering, baggy, uncomfortable, hideous even - and they hid everything you had going for yourself.

Ponchos? A big no.

This time you were in search of clothing on the complete opposite side of the spectrum. Jungkook had invited you to go out to a diner with him. You weren’t exactly sure what it entailed, he didn’t specify, but in your mind it was a date, at least it’s what you hoped it was. You wanted to impress him above all else, you wanted a jaw dropping, show stopping outfit that would land you in his bed - tonight. Thinking back on all the times you had spent in Jungkook’s company, you had learned that his usual attire consists of black leather and worn out jeans. Even though you were sure he’d tease you relentlessly for ‘stealing his lingo’ as he likes to call it, you wanted a change. You used Jungkook’s name as an excuse, because truthfully, for the longest time, you have wanted to break this continuous cycle of being a notorious rule-follower. Even if it was as silly, as simple as an outfit change, it was a step in the right direction. One that you wanted to - no, needed to go in.

As you rummage through options on the floor, you feel your phone buzz in the back pocket of your sweatpants. You reach behind you and drop your gaze to the home screen of your iphone. Your heart races in your chest at the sight of the contact name; there is a singular text message from Jungkook:

omw princess, wear something sexy for me, yeah? ;)

Oh sexy you’ll give him, alright. Then the words ‘on my way’ dawn on you and realisation strikes you. Shit, you hadn’t even picked out an outfit, let alone showered and done your makeup. Thankfully you had already picked out 3 suitable options for clothes and had tried them on countless times. The hardest part was picking out which one out of the three was best. But you didn’t have time to dwell on the options, Jungkook would be showing up at any second.

“Arlight, let’s do this shit.” You mutter under your breath, walking over to your messy bed and eyeing the three options wearily. It was almost embarrassing how seriously you were taking this - especially for someone who you weren’t even dating, but alas, this was Jungkook, the hottest man you have ever had the privilege of seeing. Your hand instinctively reaches out for option 2. The outfit consisted of small leather shorts that stopped just below your ass, and a tight, below the shoulder black top.

The moment you step foot outside, a chilly breeze greeted you—not surprising for 8:35 PM. You muttered a curse under your breath, annoyed at yourself for forgetting a jacket. As you walked down the pavement and rounded the corner of your apartment building toward the parking lot, your eyes landed on Jungkook. Leaned back against his sleek black motorcycle, he looked as sexy as ever. His black hair pushed back, tattoos giving him that edgy look craved to want. You caught the slight raise of his eyebrows, surprise evident as you approached.

He lets out a low whistle, straightening up and taking a slow, deliberate step forward. “Fuck…look at you.” He drags his eyes over your figure, desire simmering beneath his gaze, a look so intense that it sets your whole body on fire. With a flick of his fingers, he tosses the cigarette onto the gravel, embers glowing for a fleeting moment before fading. “Are you trying to impress me, baby?” His lips curl up into a cocky smirk, taking yet another step forward - his chest grazing against yours.

“Depends…did I succeed?” He hums in response, reaching out to grip your hips with his big hands and pulling you further against his chest. You couldn’t help but admire the colorful, intricate designs of his tattoos covering his left arm, it made you want to trace them with the tip of your fingers. They especially popped under the soft glow of the moonlight. You remember him mentioning how he was going to get them re-colored - and by the looks of it he has. The parking lot was relatively quiet, with only a few people locking their car doors before heading out.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to concentrate on anything tonight with you looking like this” Your heart flutters at his words. It’s almost laughable how just a few sweet words from the man in front of you can stir such strong reactions from your body. His thumbs run smooth circles on the small strip of skin between the hem of your top and the waistband of your leather shorts.

“Maybe that was the goal” You flirt with a teasing smile, your hands run over his arms, feeling the way his muscles ripple beneath the palm of your hands. He wore his usual white wife beater - it was skin tight and displayed his bulky stature perfectly. He lets out a raspy chuckle, leaning in to press a featherly light kiss to your cheek, his lips barely grazing the warmth of your skin.

“Yeah?” He smirks against your cheek “you wanted me to look at you, didn’t you baby? To notice you…” He lifts his head up to meet your gaze, one of his hands reaching out to softly grip your chin - forcing your eyes to lock on his. He lets his gaze wander over your face tentatively, noting the way your cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink. He was definitely making a mental note of this moment. It made his smirk widen, a hint of cockiness pooling within the depths of his eyes. “Well I see you…here, in my thoughts, in my dreams…” His voice is low and sultry, using his thumb to pull down on your bottom lip. At this rate you weren’t sure if the both of you would be making it to the diner.

“You dream about me?” you whisper - eyes wide and shining under the moonlight, you press a light kiss to the tip of his thumb, all while your eyes are locked on his. The cocky smirk on his lips falters slightly at your action. His eyes intensify, boring deeply into yours. Your breath catches in your throat as the world around you stills. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, his cocky, playful side coming back out.

“I jerk off to you too” He smirks and shoots you a wink, clearly feeling very proud of his quick wit. You groan in annoyance and take a step back, crossing your arms over your chest. Slightly disappointed.

“You ruined the moment” You complain, to which he lets out a boisterous laugh, his bunny teeth coming to view. The sight alone momentarily distracts you from any frustration you had been feeling.

“Come on, let’s get out of here, princess…” He wraps a hand around your wrist, fingers curling against your pulse point, as he tugged you towards his motorcycle. That darn motorcycle, you were afraid he’d choose that piece of machinery over you one day. You couldn’t help but think back to the day where he so trustingly gave you permission to drive his motorcycle around the block of his apartment. He had been a nervous wreck, babbling on and on about how you should be careful, that if you got so much as a scratch on the paint he’d kill you. It wasn’t your first time driving a motorcycle, so you had somewhat of an experience, you weren’t blindly going at it - which had given him a sense of relief. Still, Jungkook remained a nervous wreck, his chest had pressed against your back as he hovered his hands over the handlebars of the motorcycle…just in case. You smile at the fond memory.

He grips your hips and lifts you up to straddle the leather seat of the machinery, before swinging his own leg over the seat. He hands you one of the protective helmets.

“You okay to put this on? Or do you need help?” He says as he reaches out for his own helmet. You roll your eyes and successfully tug the helmet on and tighten the strap beneath your chin.

“I’m not a child, kook. I know how to put on a damn helmet.” He shoots you a smile over his shoulder, not at all phased by your remark. The dimple on his left cheek popped out momentarily. Your heart races in your chest.

“Sass. That’s what I get for trying to be a gentleman.” He scoffs as he successfully puts on his helmet and revs up the motorcycle.

You snort and wrap your arms around his waist, scooting forward on the leather seat to press your chest against his muscular back. “The last word I’d use to describe you is ‘gentleman.’” It was a teasing jab, no real cruelty behind your words.

“I never said I was, I said I’m trying to be.” With that he kicks up the stand. You tighten your arms around his waist instinctively, it was always quite nerve wracking sitting on the back of Jungkook’s motorcycle - he was unpredictable in more ways than one. The tires crunch against the gravel as he eases out of the parking lot, the streetlights casting fleeting shadows over his sharp features. Then, with a smooth twist of the wrist, he takes off, the wind whipping past you as the city blurs into streaks of neon and asphalt.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

“You drive me crazy-” Jungkook rasps out, his breath fanning across the shell of your ear. “Can’t get enough of you…” His hands reach down to grip the back of your thighs, arms flexing as he hoists you up effortlessly and walks all the way back towards his motorcycle. He wastes no time latching his lips onto the side of your neck, sucking deep dark, purple marks. You were a whimpering mess against him, your hands gripping onto his shoulders for dear life, your legs tightening around his waist. You didn’t even care for the fact that the two of you were just about done exiting the diner, that the owner could catch you both if he so much as looked out the big windows. Apart from him, the parking lot of the Diner was empty, the two of you had been the only ones left inside.

The date had gone better than expected, you laughed, talked, kissed, but the both of you didn’t last much longer - couldn’t last much longer. The long gazes, the lingering touches, it was becoming all too much to handle. Jungkook had treated you like a princess all night, not that you were surprised. From the moment you met Jungkook a couple of months back, you have always had an inkling feeling that Jungkook wasn’t this ‘badboy’ everyone said he was. Not with the way his doe-eyes shone big and wide as they looked into yours, head nodding with each word you spoke. You didn’t expect the way he treated you so delicately, so softly, like you might break if he said the wrong thing, touched you the wrong way…He truly was a gentleman, no matter what others may come to believe. Or maybe, just maybe, he was this way with you, and only with you.

He sets you down onto the leather seat of his black motorcycle. His hands squeeze the muscles of your thighs as he settles his body between your spread legs. His chest molds against yours - His growing erection pressing directly against your clothed clit. You bite your lip to stop the moan threatening to spill from your lips. You tighten the grip of your hands on his shoulders. He couldn’t help but let out a low groan as he started to grind his hardened cock against you. The tight confines of his jeans were starting to feel like torture. The friction was so delicious it made your brain turn to mush. You spread your legs even further, bucking your hips up to grind your hips against his, as a result he throws his head back in a deep, drawled out moan. His eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. Your heart stops in your chest at the unforgettable sight. This man was going to be the death of you.

“Fuck…you’re gonna make me cum in my pants if you keep doing that” He rasps out, his hands moving up your body to grip your tits over the black top you wore, giving the mounds a good, rough squeeze - Your strangled moan echoes across the empty parking lot. With gritted teeth and a clenched jaw, Jungkook tugs the material down your arms, letting the fabric pool against your waist. You shiver when the cool air hits your newly exposed skin, nipples pebbling against the fabric of your bra.

“J-Jungkook…we’re still outside…” You remind him nervously, taking a quick peek behind his shoulder for any living soul. He doesn’t seem to even acknowledge your words - his hand already sliding around your body to toy with the clasp of your bra. He cursed under his breath as he struggled against it for a couple of seconds. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle to, which he shoots you a glare before the bra successfully unclasps. The cool air of the night only serves to send a shiver down your spine.

“Relax, there’s nobody here…” When your bra falls to the dusty ground, he leans in to capture one of your rosy nipples into his mouth. Your brain is suddenly too fuzzy to even remember what you were worrying about as you felt his tongue on your skin. His hands gripped your waist tightly, pushing your tits even further against his face. You reach out to thread your fingers against his black locks, giving it a rough tug as his tongue swirls around your sensitive nub - teeth grazing against it.

“Hmmph…Kook…” You moan out breathlessly, your hips moving on their own accord against his growing erection. He releases your nipple with a small ‘pop’, a string of saliva connects your nipple to his lips before it breaks. He stands up straight, looming over your smaller frame.

“You’re so fucking sexy, you know that?” His breath comes out slightly ragged, his hooded eyes darkening at the sight of your reddened cheeks. “So sensitive…I love it when you blush for me.” He whispers under his breath, thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples, taking a couple seconds to admire the way your tits rose with every breath you took.

“Touch me kook…” You whimper, hands desperately reaching out to grip the waistband of his jeans and giving it a good tug towards you. He’s impossibly close now, his pelvis pressing tightly against yours. Gripping the back of your thighs, Jungkook forces them to wrap around his slim waist. “Or are you all talk no bite?” You challenge, to which he raises a brow - surprised at your sudden confidence, A smirk tugging at his lips. He leans down, breath fanning across the shell of your ear.

“Oh I’ll touch you alright, maybe even fuck the attitude right out of you while I’m at it.” He releases his grip on your breasts, settling them against the cool leather of his bike instead. He grips the edge of the seat, one arm on either side of your body, caging you in. His face was now inches away from yours. “Is that what you want, baby girl?” He whispers huskily “Does the princess need a good, rough fuck?”

Your cheeks bloom at his lewd words, the palm of your hands already feeling clammy with sweat. You could only nod dumbly, your eyes shining with pure, unadulterated lust. This man could so easily reduce you to something resembling a brainless zombie. He lets out a dark chuckle, the deep sound sends a fresh wave of heat coursing through your body. “So eager” He hums, leaning in and placing his lips on your uncharacteristically softly. You moan against the warm, soft, pillowy lips, his teeth grazing your bottom lips enough to where your breath hitches in your throat. His big hand cups the side of your face, tilting it slightly to the right as he deepens the kiss. His tongue sliding against yours naturally. It felt so right, so good. He suckles on your bottom lip before pulling away.

“Tell me baby, what is it you need from me, hm?” His voice is a breathless whisper, grinding back against the heat of your core that pressed intently against his painfully hardened cock. One of his hands travels between your bodies, to cup your pussy over the leather of your shorts, the palm of his hand grazing over your clothed clit. You could only gasp at the feeling, the warmth of his skin seeping through the fabric.. His lips continue their torturous graze across the skin of your neck. “Want me to taste this sweet pussy? Maybe use my fingers on you?...”

You shake your head, your arms shooting out to grip his biceps. He pulls back with a tilt of his head “No?” He questions, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion. Had he done something wrong? Maybe he had misread the situation? He pulled his hand away in case you were second guessing yourself.

“I don’t want to wait.” You reach out to pull his hand back, the other already reaching down to toy with the button of his jeans, he quickly captures your wrist in his hand, pulling it away from where he needed you most. “Wha-” You look up at him in confusion.

“I don’t want to hurt you” His eyes softened ever so slightly, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang in your chest at the sight. “I’m not exactly…small.” He could have easily said that for an ego boost, but looking deeply into his eyes you could tell this wasn’t the case, all you could see was concern…care.

“I’m not a virgin, Jungkook.” You argue back, mind still fuzzy from lust, clearly not reading the situation or reacting to it as you probably should have. Using your other hand, you reach out to toy with the button of his jeans impatiently, successfully undoing it. He shakes his head, face scowling in disagreement as he captures your other wrist in hand, gripping them in one of his large hands.

“That doesn’t matter.” His voice comes out slightly frustrated, but mostly caring, he releases your wrists to grip your waist instead, pulling your chest to his. “Just because you’ve had sex before doesn’t mean you don’t need the proper foreplay-”

“But I’m so wet for you, kook…” You whimper.

That makes Jungkook short-circuit. He swears he almost came in his pants.

With not so much as a word he pulls the zipper of his jeans down enough to where the fabric pools down to his ankles, leaving him in his white wife beater and tight boxer briefs. “You’re positive?” He eyes you wearily, eyes raking your face for any sign of regret or reluctance.

You gave him a reassuring smile and nodded “Positive.” You promise. “Just please…touch me kook, I don’t think I can wait much longer…” desperation was evident in your voice as your hands raked your nails down his back. He visibly shudders at the feeling.

“Fuck…you’re going to be the death of me” He groans, pulling the waistband of his boxers down enough so that his cock sprung free. Your breath gets caught in your throat. He wasn’t lying, he was huge. His cock was girthy, long and had veins running up the base. You could see the way it shot straight up, slapping against his abdomen. The tip is bright pink, shining with beads of pre-cum that slid down to lube his shaft. You gulp.

“You okay?” He asked in concern, reaching out to cup the side of your cheek, thumb rubbing smooth circles against your skin.

“Y-yeah…on second thought…maybe I do need the foreplay…” You bite your lip nervously, slightly embarrassed - you take in the way he let out a breathless chuckle. He reaches down to unbutton your leather shorts, you raise your hips off the leather seat of his motorcycle to help him slide them off. He easily slides them down the expanse of your legs, placing the material across the leather seat - not much could be said for your bra.

“What do you need?” It was a simple question really, but your mind was going miles per hour. Too unfocused for coherent thoughts. He decides for you, slipping his fingers into the waistband of your panties as his fingers graze over your slick folds. You let out a shuddering breath. He leans his free hand back down against the leather of his bike, pressing his chest to yours as he rubs your clit in deliberate circles. The calloused pads of his fingers run up and down against your slit, coating them in your wetness before circling your entrance. His eyes remain locked onto your face at all times, searching for any signs of discomfort.

“Please…” Your eyes flutter closed, voice coming out in a breathy whisper, almost inaudible…but he heard it - oh he heard it alright. His cock pulsed painfully in his jeans. He began to slip two of his fingers inside you, hissing at the way your walls tightened around them. He easily glided them knuckles deep inside you. You were so damn wet there was practically no friction.

“So tight…” He rasped, slowly starting to pump his thick fingers in and out of you. His fingers curled and motioned a ‘come here’ sign. You shudder at the feeling, letting out a small, breathless moan against the side of his neck. Your right hand comes up to cradle the side of his cheek, pressing your lips against the side of his face. Your warm breathy pants fanned his scorching skin.

“That’s it baby” He coos, his fingers working even faster inside you, watching transfixed at the way your face morphed into one of pleasure. The tips of his fingers curl to find that spongey, soft area inside you, the area to which he begins to slam his fingers against, over and over again. You let out a surprised sound, a loud moan tearing from your throat as he begins to part his fingers in opposite directions, scissoring your pussy open, stretching you out for what was to come. “You’re so fucking wet…all for me, isn’t that right?” His voice dripped with oozing confidence and overpowering lust. His fingers only picked up the pace while his thumb worked in tangent, applying just enough pressure to your clit that leaves you a whimpering, moaning mess. The parking lot was still empty, still dark, the two of you caught up in your own little bubble.

“Ohh my…oh god-” You gasp, throwing your head back, his eyes narrowing to the sensitive skin of your neck to which he takes the opportunity to latch his lips against, sucking even more deep, purple marks. His breath hitches when he feels your velvety walls clamping down against his fingers, your hands were a scrambling mess against his body. Gripping his hair, shirt, wrist, arms…anywhere you could latch onto, bracing yourself.

“That’s it pretty girl, that’s it…let go for me princess” His deep voice encourages, leaning down to crash his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss, his tongue swirling against yours. You hum into the kiss, your body trembling against his as you feel the growing burn in your lower abdomen. His lips against yours muffle the moans that threaten to spill as your orgasm finally crashes over you. The hand gripping onto his hair only tightened as your eyes rolled back in your head, your pussy spasmed around his fingers. He pulls back just enough to see your face contorted in pleasure, he groans at the sight.

“Fuck yes, so sexy baby” He slurs, his eyes dark and hooded as he slows down the frantic movement of his fingers, helping you ride out your mind-blowing orgasm. When your breath calms down he extracts his fingers from inside you, bringing them up to his mouth for a taste. Your cheeks redden at the site of his tongue swirling around his coated fingers. He hums deeply at the taste before pulling his fingers out from between his lips and crashing them against yours. “I can’t wait-” His voice was muffled against your lips, reaching down to give his painfully hard cock a couple of fast strokes.

He stands up straight, gripping the back of your thighs and using his strength to manhandle you, scooting you towards the edge of the seat. He brings your thighs towards your chest, tapping the back of them. You reach down to grip the back of your thighs.

“I’ve got you, baby” He says through ragged breaths, his eyes filled with lust - one of his hands gripping your hip, the other gripping the base of his cock as he slaps it against your slick folds. You moan at the lewd slapping sound. “You’re on birth control, yeah?” He pauses, eyes on yours.

When you nod he groans and presses the tip of his cock against your entrance. He let out a shaky moan before pushing inside. The initial stretch is a lot, almost painful as your nails dig into the skin of your thighs. His grip on your hips tighten as he lets out a whimper. Your whole body shudders at the sound. Never in a million years would you think Jeon Jungkook was the type to whimper.

“Ssooo…” He hisses, shuddering as he bottoms out inside you. “Tightest pussy ever.” He strains, a vein popping out from the side of his neck, chest rising and falling rapidly. His hooded eyes locked onto where the both of you were connected. “Can I…?”

“Please” You breath out impatiently. He pulls back just enough to leave the tip inside before slamming back down against you, taking you to the hilt once again. He throws his head back in pleasure, eyes shuttering closed.

“Oh fuck-” He chokes “I’m gonna…” He bites his lip, stilling his cock inside you, the grip on your hips tightened. Your eyes widen at the implications of his words.

“W-we can take a break, kook” You let go of the back of your thighs and circle them around his waist instead, reaching out to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. He leans his forehead against yours as he shakes his head.

“Shut up-” He growls in frustration and embarrassment, a pretty pink blooming across his cheeks. His hands snake around your body to grip the globes of your ass. You let out a strangled moan as he uses his grip as leverage, slamming his cock inside you in fast, rough thrusts. He groans against the side of your neck, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as one of his hands lets go of your ass and grips your thigh instead. He throws it over the crease of his elbow before leaning his hand back against the edge of the leather seat. His hips never faltered their relentless pace.

“Oh Jungkook!” You cry out in ecstasy, your fingers digging into the skin of his back, clutching onto his wife beater for dear life. He nips the lobe of your ear, teeth grazing against the skin, only further igniting the assault on your senses. The cool air around you only dropped in temperature the darker it got. It was practically pitch black except for the singular street light which lit up just a small circle of concrete below it. The diner lights closed, the both of you completely isolated in the public parking lot.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the empty lot, except for the moans and groans spilling from both your lips, lost in the throes of passion. His lips were on yours, silencing your needy whimpers as he picked up the pace of his thrusts, his balls slapping against your ass. He groaned deeply against your lips as he felt you tighten around him, your walls squeezing him so hard his hips stuttered. He pulls back from the sloppy kiss, his nose brushing against yours with each thrust of his hips. “You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” His voice comes out ragged and out of breath, eyes hooded and dark. You nod through heavy pants.

He reaches down to rub fast, hard circles on your clit, adding just enough pressure to drive you insane. With a last shuddering whimper, the second orgasm of the night washed over you, coating his cock with your juices. He let out a strangled moan at the feeling of your juices dripping down his shaft and onto his balls. With a couple more deep, hard thrusts, he pulls out with a reluctant groan. He fists his cock in his hand, throwing his head back as he strokes it hard and fast. Spurts upon spurts of thick, hot cum land on your bare tits, some on the black top that was still bunched up around your waist. Jungkook looked like he was in pain - in the best way possible. His head was thrown back, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips slightly ajar.

As both of your orgasms start to subside, he pants and gives you a one-over. A goofy grin broke onto his face. You couldn’t help but smile back. “What is it?” You giggle breathlessly.

“Oh nothing…” He shrugged, reaching down to grab your bra, using his hand to remove the dust as he handed it to you. As you take the bra you raise a brow at him suspiciously. He reaches down to pull up his boxers, tucking his softening cock back inside. He then adjusts his baggy jeans into place. He reaches down into one of the pockets to hand you a kleenex packet. You gratefully take it and start to wipe yourself clean before clasping your bra in place.

“Tell me.” You press even further, sliding your hands into the sleeves of your black top before hopping off the bike, the gravel of the parking lot crunching underneath your black boots. You quickly put on your leather shorts. He takes a step forward, reaching out to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling your back against his chest.

“After that…I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you” His teeth grazed against the lobe of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “You’re mine now, baby.” He presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “My girl.”

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orimuraa · 1 month ago

Text

── ⋆⋅ ೀ Until I found her - OT7

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆when the bad boys are down bad ⨾

۶ৎ bad boy!enhypen x fem!reader┆fluff┆enha is whipped, kisses, petnames┆wc 698

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: eaurahhh i need down bad enhypen so bad it's nawt even funny dawg

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승

"doll face..how many are you putting in?" heeseung laughs lightly, trying not to move his head too much. "just sit still seungie," you answer, putting in the finishing touches. heeseung was sat on your shared bed, his signature, black, leather jacket adoring his body, while you carefully covered his hair in your favorite hair clips featuring sanrio, stars, flowers, hearts, and so much more. "done!" you smile, letting heeseung turn around to see the mirror. at one glance at his reflection, he just smiles, turning around to look at you. "angel, you're so precious."

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성

jay never let anyone touch his car. it was his prized thing and always loved to show it off. so when you came along, stealing his heart and all, how could he say no to your decorations? within a swift blink of an eye, you had placed little stuffed animals all around his car, adding in car pillows and cute little stickers on the seats and steering wheel. at first, jay almost had a heart attack, but when he saw your bright smile, he just couldn't be mad. "oh princess, i love you so much," he says, kissing your lips and admiring his now bedazzled car.

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤

"yunnieee, stop moving!" you whine, making an angry-pouty expression at your boyfriend. "i'm sorry, pretty," jake says, smiling at your adorable face. you had set up a bunch of pretty colors to paint jake's nails, deciding that he needed more colors than just black in his outfits. once you had carefully finished each nail, you smiled, staring down proudly at your work. "wow baby! it's..beautiful!" jake smiles brightly--something he only did around you. "they match well with the black," you snicker, scrunching your nose. jake takes this as an opportunity and leans in swiftly, leaving a small kiss on your nose. "my payment."

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈

sunghoon had a motorcycle that he treasured almost as much as he treasured you. so when he came home to find you squatting down next to the bike, a bunch of sheets of stickers in your left hand and your right hand delicately placing them along his bike, he knew he loved you most. "angel? what are you doing?" he smiles softly, admiring the cute stickers. "your bike needed a makeover," you hum, still very focused on your stickers. sunghoon gently tilts your chin towards him for a minute, kissing your lips and smiling against them. "thank you, precious."

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우

sunoo tended to have a lot of dark colored things, so naturally, you needed to fix that! you started with his black backpack, adding three key-chains to the zippers. they were brightly colored and stuck out very much against the black bag, but that was exactly what you wanted. "baby? was this you?" sunoo asks, walking in with his backpack in his hand and a small smile on his lips. "uh huh," you nod. "it was too boring," you add, simply looking at him with a smile. "well thank you for the glam," he smiles, leaning in and kissing your forehead.

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원

"wonnie!! i got us matching hats!!" you giggle, showing him the two little cat beanies you found at the mall earlier. jungwon usually opted for darker and "cooler" clothes, but when it came to you, he just couldn't refuse. upon seeing the fluffy cat beanies, jungwon just smiled, letting out a small laugh. "thank you princess, they look adorable." you know that deep down, underneath his bad boy persona, jungwon secretly loved things like this. but you wanted to gate keep it for a little longer. your boyfriend was just too cute to share.

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村力

"little love, are you sure that that's natural?" ni-ki asks cautiously, staring at how clumpy his hair looked. "yes ki! i told you, that's just the dye! it'll wash out, i promise," you huff, turning off the timer. "okay now go wash it out," you say, helping ni-ki out of the trash bags you put him in so he wouldn't turn pink. "alright..i'm out," ni-ki says after finishing rinsing his hair. it was adorable. his base was still black but he let you had in streaks of pink, making him even more adorable. "hm, maybe i could get used to this."

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𝐉𝐢𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy, @hyukabean, @annybah, @ijustwannareadstuff20, @chaeneu, @17ericas, @firstclassjaylee, @riribelle, @right-person-wrong-time, @cheruphic

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tastesousweet · 3 months ago

Text

⭒ crush

| hamzahthefantastic x youtuber!reader au

summary: hamzah has a crush that is extremely obvious to everyone except you ... somehow?! (both written & smau!!!)

a/n: happy new years!!!!!!

— march 2024

hamzah is hungry beyond belief.

martin's already assured him both over facetime and text that he's on his way with their full course meal of chinese takeout— currently sat in the basket of martin's rented bike, jostling up and down with every bump of the toronto pavement without a doubt. yet his stomach is still throwing a tantrum, depraved of any nutrients while his brain repeats in a neanderthal-like manner "food. coming. soon." in hopes of reducing the pressure within his poor stomach.

he opens instagram, needing some sort of an escape, because naturally a little doom-scrolling will ease his (dramatic but still very real) pain. somehow, among the ridiculous animal reels and comedic twitch clips on his explore feed, he stumbles upon a reel from you. a girl with a different quality and charm to your face and character than anything he's seen in other content creators.

not only does your bubbly yet elegant voice keep him watching but the subject matter is rather fitting— you're cooking a homemade chicken pot pie for the first time. in the video you talk about how often your mother would prepare it growing up and now it's become a popular craving for you. hamzah watches intently as if he were ready to get up and make his own pot pie alongside you.

"hey! the hell are you smiling at?" martin's voice is breathy due to his trek to and from the chinese restaurant. he walks into the living room holding a crinkly plastic bag reading: "thank you! have a nice day!" with that big, yellow smiley face in between.

"huh? nothin'." hamzah dismisses and adjusts himself on the couch, "come on, 'm starving!" he reaches his hand out to take the food from martin before patting the seat next to him.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

— june 2024

"so when are you gonna come see us?"

it was a surprise to see hamzah follow you on instagram a few months ago. you'd heard his name thrown around in certain spaces of the internet but never really indulged in any of his content.

his instagram had the format of a shitposting ten-year-old but it only made you curious about the humorous twenty-something. eventually you'd watched a youtube video of his; completely laughing your ass off and finding your eyes chasing after hamzah whenever he was in even the tiniest of frames.

it was never a serious crush by any means, just a nice piece of secret eye-candy who also happened to have a great personality and an enviously good work ethic (the effort martin and hamzah put into their videos was astonishing to you).

so you were quite nervous to be the first to dm him, in hopes of a friendship or a least a quick exchange of "hey." it was only right — you two had been liking each other's poss and stories a consistent amount.

the mellow first exchange between the two of you in april blossomed into you both constantly talking in your free time; your friendship quickly to developed a flirty back-and-forth dynamic that sometimes borders on way more than platonic. eventually martin was added to your consistent facetime calls and you’ve even let them convince you to create a discord account to play minecraft and grand theft auto online with them.

and now you’re lying on your leather couch with both of their faces displayed in your laptop’s screen, eager to hear your response.

“i don’t know…” you play with a loose end of the sweater you’re wearing, “what would we even do?”

they both stay quiet for a moment before hamzah laughs, “why are you acting like you don’t wanna say yes right now?”

a smile slowly grows on your face “okay… gimme a second,” you begin to google flight information to and from toronto.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

— september 2024

yourusername

Liked by clairedrake, hamzahthefantastic, and others

yourusername Y’all didn’t tell me they get wild in the 6 , Omg??!! Highly requested video out neow <3

View all comments

chaserutherford 🍽️8️⃣ • ♥︎ by author

yourusername I rlly do miss u already 😖😖😖😖

ynfan01 ohhhh this was so necessary thank u mother☺️!! • ♥︎ by author

yourusername Mhm!!! Olivia Wilde head nod 💞💞

slushieeee333 y/n: slurping pasta , hamzah the whole time: 😊👀😍😊

thatmartinkid hey look ma i made it!!! 🫵😂 • ♥︎ by author

ynsnumberone THE FLIRTING WENT CRAZYYYYY

slushedyn her and hamzah are obsessed with each other i fear

thatslushykid COME BACK 2 TORONTO ASAP I NEED MORE COLLABS RN!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

hamzahluver45 ok but like it’s so obvious that her trying to flirt was just irritating them the whole time !! Like girl ..💀💀

hamzahthefantastic Posting our dms is already one thing , but TAGGING ME is actually crazy 🤔🤔 • ♥︎ by author

yourusername R u mad @ me Bby???? 😕

hamzahthefantastic BruhLmaooooooooooo

freakzahfan that's one too many "o"s just say u wanna kiss her my boy

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“oh!” you accidentally trip over yourself while walking backwards and stumble into hamzah, who was standing in front of the unfamiliar grocery store, watching you prepare to give an intro. “jesus,” martin laughs under his breath from behind the camera. he lowers the camera, showing his feet but still picking up his voice in the mic, “you good?!”

the clip cuts to you stood upright again, "i'm in the six!!!" you exclaim loudly, raising your arms above your head. "and i'm here with slushy noobz to add to my series where other creators "teach me" their specialty. you tug at hamzah's arm and pull him into the frame with you, "hamzah tell them what you and martin are gonna teach me," you look up a him while still holding onto his arm. you interrupt him before he even begins to speak, "oh yeah! martin is also here by the way!" you point and martin flips the camera to himself. "they're just leaving me out it's fine, i know i'm out already, just vote just vote," he references with a sigh before turning it back to you and hamzah. "don't start! chase is on his way to come and film for us-" "listen! this is our plan-- we're gonna teach you how to mukbang; everyone knows we're very qualified in this field and know everything there is to know about the subject, so, uhh, yeah we're kinda experts. i dont know, would you say that, martin?" hamzah rambles. "yeah, i think that's a good way to describe us" "perfect! then you're teachin' me how to kiss next, right?" you ask. hamzah goes from looking at you attentively (hanging onto your every word) to a face deadpanned as he glances over to martin trying not to smile.

the video cuts to a clip with the three of you, finally, all in one shot now that chase is behind the camera. you pull a cart out from its slot and push yourself on it before standing both feet on top of the tiny foot bar, gliding through the automatic doors.

next, a clip of martin speaking to the camera while you and hamzah look through different pasta sauces together, "okay we didn't really explain this well but essentially we're all going to cook a nice dish and then eat it together in front of you guys. isn't that cute?" "yeah, can't wait for us to mukbang together" hamzah speaks. martin turns back to the camera with a smirk, "i bet you wish you were mukbanging with us huh, chase?" "no. and you just made that word up." martin's face falls.

the entire grocery shopping trip is filmed with little moments like hamzah mispronouncing a few brand names, martin talking to strangers about which pasta noodle to try, and you randomly walking off into estranged aisles "just to see if things are really different here"

now, you're all back at martin's home; you read aloud the recipe and hamzah is stood practically on top of you as he also looks down at the phone, all while martin lays ingredients out of the counter. "okay simple enough," hamzah says. "yeah, and you're still gonna make me do all of the work anyway," martin huffs sarcastically. you giggle a bit, "martin the most you'll have to do is boil water, i'll force him to do the rest." "huh???!! who??" hamzah questions, his smiley face “accidentally” leaning far too close to yours. "you, duh!" you laugh and turn away to look for a large pot.

throughout the cooking process you slowly stop helping; talking to mandy while you two eat chips and salsa while leaning on the counter or petting the pets instead of doing any of the tasks given to you from the self-proclaimed chefs.

"this is literally your video! what the hell y/n?!" martin whines when he finds you and mandy making a tiktok in his "man cave" together after you'd told them you were going to the bathroom, "seriously mandy?" all of the audio can be heard from the mics on your clothing. "where was she?" hamzah says monotonous as he scrolls on his phone. "making freaking tiktoks with mandy of course!" you giggle as you walk into the kitchen behind him, "what? the food is practically done, we're just waiting on garlic bread!" you shrug and hamzah immediately turns at the sound of your voice. "well, you gonna at least show us?" hamzah asks casually placing his hands on the counter around you, trapping you in the space between him and the marble surface. "yeah," you tilt your head so you can look at his face as you make fun of his not-so-friendly gesture, "you wanna keep breathing down my neck like that while i show you?" he laughs and moves away to cover up the embarrassment of being called out. "stop!" you laugh and bring him back into frame forcing him and martin to watch you and mandy dance on your phone screen.

the four of you sit on the carpet with plates full of chicken alfredo and pieces of garlic bread laid out on martin’s coffee table. you all talk about your experience in toronto so far, how you and hamzah first met, … et cetera.

martin attempts to teach you canadian slang: “keener is big here.” “actually? what the hell does that even mean?” “it’s kinda like a try hard— people will call you a keener if you’re doing too much, basically.” “wait tell me more!” “i mean things like buddy is way too common here. some random old guys will call me that and it always throws me off??” “yeah they always say it so demeaning,” hamzah laughs. “do you guys actually say ‘eh?’ all the time? i feel like i haven’t noticed it a lot.” you ask genuinely. “i won't lie.. i say it more often than i like to admit!” mandy says. you’ve noticed that no matter if you’re the one speaking or not hamzah’s eyes keep glancing and sometimes full on staring at you (he really doesn’t mean to but he thinks he’s finally processing that you’re actually here with them after months of wanting this) you're flattered nonetheless.

at some point hamzah and martin recreate a scene in lady and the tramp, successfully slurping at the same noodle until hamzah retreats and martin sighs at his lack of commiting to the bit. you laugh along before asking hamzah’s to share a noodle with you with a smile slapped over your face, “me next?” he fights off any blushing with a roll of his eyes and his response of, “yeah? ask me again in a sec.”

after you’ve all finished eating, you complete the video with a big smile and a promise of more collaborations in the future.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

•••

#hamzah the fantastic #hamzah x y/n #hamzah #hamzahthefantastic #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzah x reader #hamzah imagines #martin and hamzah #slushynoobz #slushy virus #slushy noobz virus #slushy noobz #hamzahthefantastic fanfic #hamzahthefantastic x you #hamzahthefanatasticxreader

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myheartflutters · 2 months ago

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Elevate your style with this sleek Medieval leather belt pouch bag. Ideal for biking, festivals, or daily wear. Designed for both practicality and flair! This is the Perfect Gift for everyone!

==> AVAILABLE HERE <==

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frissonmei · 20 days ago

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lover or love her? / sylus

DETAILS: non-mc!reader, best friend!reader, fluff, pre/unestablished relationship, some slice of life, flirting, best friends to lovers, pining, petnames (sweetheart, sweetie, kitten, baby), banter, slight angst if you squint (as pining always does include), slight jealousy, somewhat suggestive, tense consistency issues, slight misunderstanding, bars & alcohol consumption, i make up my own places in linkon, may be ooc? SUMMARY: you’ve been close (maybe a little too close) friends with sylus for a very long time; one of the few people sylus engages with outside of his business dealings. however, with how busy he is, you don’t see each other often. finally, after months, you’re able to get him for a day, and who knows what might happen as your always flirtatious friendship teeters on the edge of something more. NOTES: more fluff because if i read another story of angst i might cry, slice of life because i didn’t really know what to write? i wrote this on an airplane to pass time lol. wc. 4.2k

“Hey,” the deep voice cut through your music. You looked up, yanking out one earbud. Ah—Sylus. He was looking at you curiously, a light smirk on his face. He towered over you, shoulders relaxed. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket.

“What are you reading?” he asked once he knew he had your attention.

You glanced down at the book in your hands. You showed him the cover.

“Yeah, I have no idea what that one’s about,” he said.

“Figured.” you laughed, stretching one arm above you and scooting your chair back.

“You gonna order something or are you ready to go?” you asked, glancing at him sideways as you shrugged your coat on and shoved your book into your bag.

“I had coffee earlier.” he replied, rolling his shoulders.

You stood up. You jumped as you almost smacked into his jaw, “Why are you standing that close?”

He laughed, “I don’t know. Maybe so I can get smacked by a pretty kitten every once in a while.”

You recoiled, “Ew. Save that ‘kitten’ shit for your precious hunter, Sylus,” you said heatedly, completely ignoring the part where he called you pretty.

“What? You don’t like it?” he teased, grabbing at you.

You blocked him, “Haha, very funny. Now let’s go before I get sick of your ass and leave you here.” you started walking to the door of the quaint cafe, not bothering to check if he was following.

“Ouch, sweetheart,” he drawled, sarcastically, trailing behind you leisurely, “Careful or I might start thinking you hate me. Are you always this rude to people giving you a ride or is it just me?”

“Just you.” you grinned, spinning back toward him and walking backward on the sidewalk.

“Wow, I feel so special.” he deadpanned.

You reached out to pat his cheek, “You should. Really, it’s a privilege.”

He rolled his eyes, hand grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward him. You stumbled and you looked at him with wide eyes, “What-"

“Look behind you, sweetie.”

You turned your head, mouth forming into an O shape. You had almost walked off the curb. “Ok, we don’t talk about that.” you said as you released yourself from his hold and hopped off the sidewalk next to his motorcycle.

“Wow, no thank you either. What bad manners.” he teasingly chastised.

You rolled your eyes, “Oh I’m soo sorry. Thank you so much for saving me Sylus. You’re so big and strong and awesome! I just can’t imagine what it would be like if you weren’t here.” you purred at him, looking at him with faux adoring eyes, hands clasped together in false gratefulness. “That enough for you?”

“Aw you really think so?” he said, placing a hand over his heart in pretend thankfulness.

Your lip quirked, “You know what? Sure. Whatever makes you sleep at night.” you laughed as you leaned over to grab the helmet attached below the seat of his bike.

Sylus laughed as he swung a leg over the bike. He situated himself, turning the key to turn the bike on. When you stood up he smacked your visor down.

“Hey!” you exclaimed. Glaring at him as you flicked it back up, “See that’s not fair because you don’t have a helmet. I can’t get you back.”

He shrugged, “That’s too bad I guess.”

“One of these days.” you muttered as you swung yourself onto the pillion seat. You locked your arms around his torso tightly. Your heart jumped for a second—you’d forgotten how well-defined Sylus was, even through the leather he was wearing.

“Alright, where we headed?” you asked over his shoulder.

He shrugged, “Dunno. Wherever,” he paused before adding, “Anywhere as long as your with me.” he looked back, grinning at you cheekily and wiggling his brows as if to say: That was a good one, right?

You blinked at him, unimpressed, “Stop trying to woo me, Sylus. Is this what you say to that hunter?” you sighed, exasperated.

“What, not impressed?” he frowned at you in faux sadness.

“No,” you stated dryly.

“Sheesh, tough crowd.”

“Just drive.”

Sylus took you to the boardwalk across Linkon.

You shook out your hair once off the bike, “I haven’t been here in forever.”

“I know.” Sylus said.

The way he said it made you pause. You looked at him trying to catch something—anything—in his gaze that would suggest something. He was already looking at you—passive. You looked back down, shaking away the thought.

As the two of you strolled down the boardwalk, you told him about work and he told you the less grisly details of his last deal.

“Wait—so you’re telling me this Chavez guy tried to scam you by going through Luke and Kieran?” you exclaimed, absolutely dumbfounded.

“Yes, exactly. I don’t know how someone can be that idiotic.” he confirmed.

“That’s crazy. Please tell me you shot him.”

He glanced at you mirthfully, “I won’t confirm or deny that for legal reasons.”

You looked at him, “Oh come on! You think I’m gonna turn you in? Wow, I’m offended.”

“I’m kidding. Yes, Luke shot him immediately actually. I didn’t even know until they told me later.”

You laughed, “You know what, that’s fair. He wouldn’t have made it far if he didn’t know who the twins were connected too.”

“Yeah, I suppose not,” he agreed.

What kind of person knowing and laughing about Sylus’ lifestyle made you, you weren’t sure. But it kept you safe so you tried not to think too much about it. You knew Sylus kept tabs on you even if he asked what you’d been up to as if he didn’t have it recorded already. Like you said, it kept you safe. Not that you had much to run from; an average citizen of Linkon city but… the assurance was nice. Also a bonus, you could come and go into the N109 Zone freely. Not that you ever had, but Sylus had given you a brooch in case you wanted to.

“Come visit me.” he’d said.

You hadn’t. You’d stuck with him coming out of the shadows to masquerade as a normal man every now and then. He hadn’t said anything about it.

“Hey look! It’s you!” you exclaimed.

“What?” Sylus asked, brow furrowed.

You pointed to a mosquito buzzing around your heads, laughing.

It was his turn to look at you unimpressed.

“Wow, riveting. Please, do tell, why you think so?” he asked, voice low and looking at you with all the severity of a man such as himself would.

You paused. His voice… did things to you. You’d admit it, and when he spoke like that—well, decency was a mere speck in your thought process.

“Hmm?” he pressed at your silence, shifting closer to you.

Your mouth opened but not words came out, “Uhh-“

“C’mon, sweetheart, I’m just dying to know here why you think I’m a mosquito.” he smirked at you.

“Because you’re annoying, hover around and—and, I don’t know— suck people’s blood!” you stuttered out.

Truthfully, you’d almost wished he was one. Small, annoying, and easy to kill—insignificant. It would make it so much easier to be his friend. He was in fact, the opposite. He was like a crater that had smashed your world. Drawing your thoughts to him every time you aimed to sleep at night. His teases, no matter how much you pushed back at him—“Save that for your little hunter!”—coming out of your mouth quite often, lingered in your mind for too long. His little pet names; you had to steel yourself against the hundred of “sweethearts” and “sweeties” and “kittens” (the only one you could actually ignore) that fell from his mouth in an hour. You’d almost think you weren’t just friends if it wasn’t for that hunter. His soulmate as he’s told you before. It made you a bit mad, the way he could say that and then flirt with you shamelessly. Truly, like a mosquito in that regard.

He frowned at that, “What you don’t like Mephisto? Don’t let him hear that—it’ll hurt his feelings! And secondly, you’ve just made me sound like a vampire, not a mosquito.”

“Excuse me! You know, Mephsto’s kinda creepy at first! And he’s metal, he doesn’t have feelings. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re the one who says that all the time. Also! You may as well be a vampire Sylus. Dark, brooding, red eyes, nocturnal, killing people left and right; seems right to me.” you shot back.

“Ok, tell me what you really think.” he laughed, “Also I’m almost certain your vampire lore is kinda off.”

“Shut up!”

The bell dinged as you pushed open the cerulean blue door. You held open the door for the man behind you. Once you’d finished catching up at the boardwalk, you’d had the brilliant idea to get ice cream.

There was this small ice creamery on the Eastside of Linkon. It was painted a cloud gray with light blue accents. It was a quaint little place—an extension of an unassuming townhouse. The owner of the parlor lived in the floor above it. It was known for its unique flavors and ocean themed decor.

Sylus had heard all about it. It was your new favorite place as of late. Mephisto had caught you going there four times in one week once. He had yet to visit however, too busy with deals and his aether core issue.

“What can I get for you?” the employee behind the counter asked once you walked up.

“Hi. Could I get two scoops of Midnight Moon?” you said.

“Midnight Moon?” Sylus raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, it’s really good!” you answered, “I forgot you haven’t been here yet.”

“I feel like I have with how many times I’ve seen you come here. I mean, four times in one week? Really, sweetie? One might begin to think there’s something wrong with you with how often you come in here.” Sylus said pointedly.

You scowled at him, “It’s really good, okay? You wouldn’t have even known that if you hadn’t been stalking me with Mephisto. For the record, that’s usually something only creepy people do. And by one, you mean you. You think there’s something wrong with me,” you pointed an accusatory finger at the white-haired man.

He put his hands up in defeat, “Sue me. I’m curious what you do when you have to be away from me.”

“‘When I have to be away from you?’” you quoted, in disbelief, “If I recall correctly, I’m not the one in shady business. All underhand deals and such. I’m just a simple office worker.” you teased.

Sylus sighed, “I know, I know. It kills me to be away from you,” he said sincerely.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your cup of ice cream from across the counter, “Order.”

There he went again; saying romantic things when you tried to deflect with sarcasm. He’d been doing that a lot lately. It drove you nuts. He was already so shameless, and you used to be too—when back and forth flirting didn’t feel so real. You’d started being more sarcastic meeting his flirtations with deadpan humor instead of coy words in hopes to rebuild that fragile wall around your heart, but all it did was make it worse—made him worse. It’s like he noticed your switch and was determined to wear you down. Make you fall for him even when he had Miss Hunter hanging on his every word.

“I’m good. I’ll just get a taste of yours,” he shook his head. He grabbed a second spoon from the container on the counter while nodding in acknowledgment at the worker.

“What, no! Get your own! I am not sharing my precious Midnight Moon flavor with you. Plus, you’re making me look like a fatsss!” you complained, smacking his arm.

He smirked at you, licking his lips. His eyes had a less than innocent look in them. You glared at him; you knew that look. He definitely had something to say about your “fat ass” comment. “Don’t even.” you warned.

“Don’t even what? What if I want a bite?” he asked, feigning innocence—voice a gravel tone that betrayed him.

You sighed, pulling open the door to the shop, “Let’s go you horny freak,” you tugged him along.

“Aw, baby, you know I love your hands on me.” Sylus continued.

Your jaw dropped, “What is your problem today? Miss Hunter not give you enough last night?” you snapped—irrationally upset.

You were frustrated with your own heart. He’d been flirting with you at every turn today. You couldn’t handle it, not when just yesterday you’d just been crying over what could never be between you too. You’d forgotten since it’d been so long since you’d seen Sylus. If you couldn’t have him the way you wanted, you just wanted to feel normal about your best friend again.

His eyebrows rose in shock, “You actually believe Miss Hunter and I are together?” he asked, confused.

“What?” you replied, just as confused, “Are you not?”

“No, we aren’t together, not like that. What made you think that?”

“I thought that was given, considering she’s your literal soulmate—your words, not mine by the way. That and the lengths you went to get her attention. And you also never corrected me whenever I assumed so.”

Sylus was quiet for a moment. A lot of things made sense to him in that moment. Why you’d stopped flirting back being the main one. He supposed he should’ve stopped when you had started returning his flirtations with quick banter, but he was desperate to return to the status quo. At first, he’d just thought it was a change of pace, but then he’d realize it had been your effort to shut him out—even in the flirting disguised as jokes there was something intimate for Sylus. It had assured him that the chemistry he had felt wasn’t just a delusion. The two of you had always bordered on friendship and romance. It was only natural; the way you two had first met, had been less than friendly to say the least—sultry words, wandering hands, and suggestive looks in the haze of a bar Sylus owned. You ended up not doing anything, your friends interrupting before things could escalate—whisking you away. But the tension had stayed, even when you’d called him the next day, sober that time.

You’d met up the next week. An intended date, potential x-rated escapade, turned into earnest conversation. Why nothing had come to fruition after that, Sylus didn’t know. Maybe you’d both gotten so lost in the cat-and-mouse game you two were playing that it developed into a staple of the true friendship you created as time went on. He came to rely on your direct truths and easy understanding. You had relished in his security and musings.

And then he’d met her. His fate, his other half. Miss Hunter—the aether core in her heart matching his own. He’d focused more of his time into her once he had received news of her condition. Once he’d confirmed what he suspected, he’d worked tirelessly to resonate with her. In his efforts, he lost time with you. Before he knew it, he hadn’t seen you in months. You hadn’t questioned it too much, knowing what kind of life he led. And when he finally saw you again, he told you all about it—his past life, his death, his soulmate.

You had been shocked, but accepted it nonetheless. You had encouraged him and teasingly lamented your lost time with him as priorities shifted. And yes, once he’d resonated with the hunter, he spent a lot more time with her…but he found himself missing your familiarity. While something in his soul rested near Miss Hunter, something in his mind calmed around you. Things were new and a novelty with Miss Hunter since she did not recall their past together. However, you remained the same. Doing the same things, thinking the same things. All things Sylus knew. And so he found himself wandering into Linkon, not in search of his beloved hunter, but his precious best friend instead. He found himself less and less enamored with Miss Hunter. While he cared deeply for the woman; she was kind and strong, he didn’t find himself longing for their old life anymore. He started wishing he’d been able to finish what had started at that bar forever ago, maybe then would you be in his arms freely. He wouldn’t have to rely on light provocative words to share his interest.

“Oh. We’re not.” was what he said instead.

You grimaced. This had gotten painfully awkward, “Sorry, I thought you were.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sylus said softly, insistent on keeping you from shutting down.

“I won’t.” you said, shoving a spoonful of ice cream in your mouth. It tasted kind of bitter. Or maybe that was the aftertaste of all the tears you’d shed over a man you thought had been taken.

Sylus cleared his throat, “Anyway, are you coming by tonight? I heard they’ve got some impressive performances lined up.”

“Ah—maybe.” you replied. Your mouth still felt like sand, “I’ve got some things I need to catch up on though.”

Sylus wasn’t so dense as to know that was his cue. He extended the moto helmet out to you, “You still live Westside right?”

“Yep. Pretty sure you already knew that though.” you teased, trying to ease the uncomfortable tension between you too.

He laughed quietly, “Maybe. Thought I’d ask. Since, you know, someone told me it was creepy.”

“It is.” you insisted as you climbed onto the back of his bike once more.

Once you got home, you went straight to your bed. Your mind was reeling. Sylus and Miss Hunter weren’t together. They were just friends. But they were soulmates. Contradictory, no? You supposed soulmates could be platonic. You’d considered that when Sylus first told you about her. And then that had shattered the longer he talked. Their past lives for one—but the way he spoke of her was the real seller. There was no way they could possibly be platonic.

And yet, here he was, telling you it was platonic. What changed? you wondered.

Regardless, it almost made you more confused. It should be clear really, but it really really wasn’t. And then he’d invited you back to the bar, the one you’d first met in. The one on the border of the N109, but not in it. The one where you’d first felt his hands touch you, his enchanting words, his sharp gaze—the one that made you feel exposed and devoured—one that you felt yourself succumbing to.

You looked at yourself in the mirror across your room. Your eyes looked exhausted, your skin looked stressed and your hair looked like it had been electrified. Should you go? You “had some things to catch up on”, remember? Yeah, that’d been a lie. A cheap escape. You figured Sylus probably knew that too.

Sighing, you rolled out of your bed. If you were going to submit yourself to a torture of missed gazes and sexual tension then you’d at least look good.

Ah. The smell of booze and sweat. What an enticing aroma, you thought sarcastically. It’s loud in here.

You smirked. You remembered this place well. Not much had changed and Sylus hadn’t lied about the energy in the bar tonight. On the stage, dazzling women twirled and danced. Lights strobed across the room, washing the space in red light. People thronged together, dancing and drinking and dealing—all money that would end up in Sylus’ endless pockets.

You headed toward the bar-top. You needed some alcohol if you were going to make it through the night. You didn’t know what Sylus wanted specifically, but it probably wasn’t something that was going to be easy on your heart.

After taking a few shots and greeting the bartender who somehow still recognized you even though it’d been months, you headed to the dance floor. You weren’t sure where Sylus was, but to be fair, you hadn’t searched very hard. You figured he’d make himself known when he wanted to. It felt good to move so freely. You’d forgotten what it was like, so caught up in work and life. Maybe you should come to the N109 Zone more often. Just kidding, you weren’t trying to get jumped unless it was someone jumping your bones.

You rolled your shoulders as the melody of the music flowed over you. You could feel the beat of the track in alignment with every pulse of your heart. Your mind became a mix of lyrics and elation. You let the music overtake you, dictate your movements.

As you swayed to the music, you felt a body press up behind you. Your eyes shot open, turning over your shoulder to see who had intruded your space. There he was, the man of the hour. Sylus’ arm wrapped around your waist, “I see someone decided to come have a little fun. Thought you had some things to ‘catch up on’?” he questioned into your ear.

You leaned back into him, humming coyly, “I suppose I could spare some time.” you brought one hand to rest on his shoulder behind you, still swaying to the music.

“It’s good to see you here.” he continued.

“You just saw me though.” you replied, giggling. You weren’t sure if it was the buzz from the alcohol or the excitement from the dance floor that kept your mood pleasant, the sour mood of your last interaction with the man behind you the last thought on your mind.

“I know, baby. But like I said, it kills me to be away from you.” he muttered, teeth grazing your neck.

You jumped, shivering at the contact. You tilted your head up at him questioning. “Just relax.” he purred, pulling you closer.

Against your better judgement you did as he said. You closed your eyes, pushing your head against his.

“You look gorgeous, sweetie.” he said, voice low, meant just for you. “Breath taking, really. You’re almost too good. Someone might think they can take you.”

“Oh yeah?” you sighed back, barely audible, “And who would that someone be. Tell me Sylus, who’s going to come take me?”

“Who do you want to take you?” he replied, hands sliding to your hips, “Tell me that first, sweetheart.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you grinned, coyly, “Maybe somebody strong and big. Somebody who’s pretty awesome, and a little nocturnal—maybe a little vampiric.”

He huffed a laugh, head dropping to your shoulder, “Or maybe someone mosquito-like?” he questioned.

You smiled loosely now, “Yes, maybe. You’re kind of proving it now.” you could feel the beginning of light marks forming where he latched to your neck.

He made a contented noise against you before drawing a breath, “This feels familiar, you know.” he breathed out.

You gazed at him, salaciously, “Perhaps a little. I don’t know though, you might have to remind me.”

“Would you let me?” he asked.

“Only if you were truthful about Miss Hunter.” you stated, voice a little more edged this time. You hated to do it but, you couldn’t, in good conscience, go the way this interaction was headed without it. Even though you were content in his arms, the deep sensical part of your brain brought your most recent conflict back up.

He paused behind you, hands slackening slightly. You brought your own down to keep his there.

“Baby,” he started.

“I know.” you cut him off, “I know and I’m sorry but I-“

He drew a circle into your side with his right hand, sucking in a breath, “It’s okay. I get it, I promise. Miss Hunter and I, no matter what may have once been, do not love each other like the way you think. It means nothing now.”

“But you care about her, no?” you questioned. You hated that it was going this way, but you just couldn’t shake your feelings of inadequacy.

“Of course I care about her, sweetheart. That is to be expected, I’m sure you know that. But the way I feel about her, and the way I feel about you are very different. She may have been my soulmate, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t the opportunity for a different love to take its place, and you have. I will always love Miss Hunter, but not in the way I crave you now. Not in the way I love you now. I promise you that.” Sylus spoke with the most sincerity you’d ever heard from him. There was no extra bravado nor any teasing quips, only unfiltered truth and conviction.

You didn’t think anything would happen between you two. Not since the first time you met and nothing happened, even with all the tension between you too. But now, you felt that everything could happen. And you were eager to explore it.

“I love you. More than a best friend should.” you told him, although you figured he knew.

“I love you too.” he replied instantly, “More than a best friend should.” he added.

You took a moment to appreciate the man above you, meeting his gaze with the intensity of desire.

He tilted your head up, lips nearly brushing yours, “Am I allowed to take you now?”

#lads sylus x reader #sylus x reader #sylus x non mc reader #lads x reader #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace x reader #sylus qin x reader #lnds x reader #sylus x you

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canonkiller · 9 months ago

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Accessorizing With Disability ✨

I've seen a lot of people (Yes, For Real) reluctant to add disability aids to their characters because those aids are visually unappealing (and in case of character designs, "boring") or they do add aids, but so over the top on aesthetics that they wouldn't actually function (anyone who replaces a wheelchair with a living breathing animal, really)

So here is literally just a list of Shit I've Found While Decorating My Wheelchair. Feel free to add on.

Wheelchair Modifications

Some of these are for fun, some of them are for function, some are both. Many are chosen with intent to be stated at on purpose instead of for the wheelchair itself due to who I am as a person. This is the category I've done the most brainstorming in.

Custom paint jobs / decals (pictured example below, first image)

Bike horns / bells

Bike handlebar streamer thingies

Custom hubcaps and wheel covers (pictured example below, second image)

Clip on, usually folding rear view mirrors

Stickers / decals on seat backs (or patches for fabric chairs)

Handlebar or back bags

Colored / high visibility tape on wheels

Noisemakers / bells on wheels (admittedly these get annoying pretty fast)

Custom seat / armrest cushions

Clip on cup holders

Clip on cane holders

Eyes + Vision

Glasses chains

Pocket magnifiers worn as necklaces or on pocketwatch chains

Sunglasses

Goggles (tinted, to protect from irritation / dry eye, to magnify vision, etc)

Patterned fabric eye patches (pictured example below, first image)

Colored / embossed leather eye patches (pictured example below, second image)

Hearing

Hearing aid stickers / skins (pictured example below, first image)

Hearing aid jewelry (pictured example below, second image)

A note on hearing aid jewelry: I originally got an anon ask that I added here about dangly jewelry causing issues during sign, which was then refuted by other users, so I've removed it. For total clarity it's 2am where I am and I'm trying to minimize misinformation before looking through things when I'm more awake. Sorry for the confusion.

Mobility That Isn't Wheelchairs

Custom paint jobs (pictured example below, first image)

Stickers / decals

Keychains on wrist loops

Attached decorations (within reason) (or without reason I guess) (pictured example below, second image)

That's all I've got for now. Thanks 👍

#text posts day because i feel like a slug in the humidity #not art #disability #representation #mobility aids #disability aids

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creativeartandcraft · 1 year ago

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Leather Saddle Bag Pannier Bags For Royal Enfield Side Bags New Pair Classic 350

Item Description:-2 Side Pouch Brown Leather Motorcycle Side Pouch Saddlebags Saddle 2 Bag Material- Real Goat leatherSET OF 2 BAGSSize: 10" Wide X 13" Long X 5" Deep Approx

LEATHER WALLET FREE GIFT WITH THIS BAG2 Side Pouch Brown Leather Motorcycle Side Pouch Saddlebags Saddle 2 Bag 100% genuine goat leather messenger bag with a durable inner lining made of canvasA genuine hand made product using chemical/dye-free leather. Natural oils and light have been used to obtain the style of the leather - chemical free!This bag features a wonderful unique and vintage look. Read More

#Leathermotorcyclebag #MotorcycleSideBag #Retro Look #Royal Enfield Side Bags #Classic 350 #Saddle #Avenger Tool Bag #Meteor 350 Supernova #Interceptor 650 #Travel Bag #bike bags #accessories for bullet #Meteor Supernova travel saddle side #leather jawa 42 #Meteor 350 Fireball

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jobean12-blog · 10 months ago

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Rescue Ride

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 1,043

Summary: When you get stranded with your broken down car someone unexpected comes to your rescue.

Author's Note: Just because! Honestly, I'd go anywhere with him haha Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 😘

Warnings: It's fluffy and cute and sweet (other than the annoying car trouble haha)

The air grows cooler as night starts to fall. There’s an eerie silence that envelopes the quiet road. Your car, having made strange noises for the past few miles, begins to smoke, and finally gives up and sputters to a stop.

You steer it to the side of the road, your heart racing as the sky continues to deepen into a dark canvas. You scan the area, seeing nothing but the far-off mile markers and the long shadows they cast against the encroaching darkness.

Suddenly, the roar of a motorcycle engine pierces the stillness, growing louder with each passing second. Your stomach flips and your palms start to sweat.

You’re all alone out here and the chances of another car passing by any time soon are slim. You search your vehicle for something to defend yourself with…just in case.

Just over the horizon you can see the bike speeding closer. The rider flies by and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Now what? That may have been the only help you were going to get. If it was help at all.

You grab your phone and scroll through your contacts. Since moving here, you had only made a couple of friends and you really didn’t want to ask either of them to come out and rescue you in goodness knows where.

As you continue to contemplate your fate you miss the low rumble of the engine and when you look up to see the motorcycle slowing to a stop a few feet in front of your car you nearly jump out of the seat.

He’s tall, one long leg lifting easily over the seat until both booted feet are planted firmly on the ground.

Your eyes continue to travel upward.

His tight jeans accentuate the shape of his muscular calves and the thickness of his thighs. A worn leather jacket fits snugly across his broad shoulders and his large hands are free of gloves.

As he moves toward you it’s hard to make out more than this large frame, the setting sun highlighting only his silhouette. However, when he reaches your car window and leans down with a smile, you’re struck speechless.

Long and dark strands of hair frame his face and his sparkling blue eyes crinkle at the corners. His sharp jaw is covered with dark stubble with patches of gray peppered throughout and surrounding a pair of very kissable lips.

“You ok doll?” he asks.

When you don’t answer he leans back to give you more space. “I’m sorry if I frightened you.”

You shake your head and open your mouth, still staring.

He smiles again.

“It’s ok. I’m ok,” you breathe out.

“Is your car, ok?” he asks.

“My car?”

He gently taps your car above the window.

“OH! Um, well no. I think it’s dead.”

Finally pulling his gaze from you he looks at the small puffs of smoke coming from the hood.

“Want me to take a look?”

“Really?” you ask. “You don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he says as he walks around to the front.

You open your door and get out, standing to the side to watch.

He opens the hood and peers inside, blowing smoke away from his face.

After only a few moments of assessment he says, “looks like you’ve got an antifreeze leak coming from one of your hose clamps.”

“Is that what it is?” you muse, trying to sound like you know what’s going on.

“I can fix it enough for you to get to the nearest station.”

You wave your hand dismissively. “I can’t have you do that! I’ll just call someone.”

He starts walking to his bike.

“And then you’ll have to pay towing fees. Not necessary doll. Lemme help you out.”

He opens the saddle bag and removes the toolbox. As he does so you notice a small lump in his jacket and when it starts to move you let out a squeak of surprise.

“Oh right,” he chuckles.

He slowly and carefully unzips the leather and reveals a small white ball of fluff.

“This is Alpine,” he explains as the cat uncurls itself against his chest.

Your eyes widen. “Oh my gosh! He’s SO CUTE!”

“Here,” he says. “You can hold him while I check out your car.”

He picks the cat up with one hand and holds him out for you to take. You gently grab him and cuddle him to your chest, cooing softly and scratching his head.

“He’s such a sweetie!”

“I found him about a month ago. Abandoned at a truck stop.”

The shock and disgust are evident in your expression and Bucky agrees with, “I know. Unbelievable right? Thankfully, he loves rides on the bike!”

He gives Alpine a soft pat and then gestures toward your car with his chin.

“Come on,” he says, “let’s take a look.”

You follow, standing closer to get a better look at him and you can see he’s even more gorgeous than you thought.

“I’m Bucky, by the way.”

After you introduce yourself, you watch him bend over the hood and grab a bandana from his back pocket.

He uses a wrench to loosen a steaming clamp and then grabs the hose with the bandana.

“It can get pretty hot,” he explains.

When he pulls the hose free you can see the leak and watch with relief as he easily contains it with a quick fix.

“This will hold long enough for you to get it somewhere and get it fixed.”

“I can’t thank you enough Bucky.”

He drops the wrench back in his toolbox and stuffs the bandana back into his pocket, all the while studying your face with soft eyes.

“Tell ya what doll face,” he starts. “I’ll follow you to the nearest repair shop to make sure you get there safely and then while you wait for your car to get fixed I'll take you out for a bite to eat.”

“On your bike?”

“Yeah,” he answers with a smirk. “Ever ridden before?”

You shake your head no.

His lopsided grin grows, and he leans in a little closer.

“Lookin’ forward to being your first, doll.”

@randomfandompenguin @lizette50 @blackwidownat2814 @goldylions @kmc1989 @hiddles-rose

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

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gatudiartcraft · 11 months ago

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#traveling bag #leather bag #bike bag #saddle bag #motorcycle bag #monte bag

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meiieiri · 4 months ago

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pretty woman.

he lives in the world of leather, grease and speed. he knows he's absolute trash, but what's a guy gotta do to have you, a pretty woman wrapped in silks, pearls and smiles, to spare him just. one. glance?!

pairings. biker sukuna x rich!reader

genre. opposites attract, fluff with slight angst-ish (you know me by now, pls skskdskfjskd), references to smut.

notes. yes, i'm still alive, please i haven't been here for months bc i've been so held up at work TT anyway, i thought of this while i was going home when i heard this busker singing "oh, pretty woman" by roy orbison~

He isn't sure how this happened. Maybe he smoked the wrong mushroom or some shit. It was supposed to a regular evening terrorizing the population of Tokyo with the sounds of their bikes revving to the goddamn afterlife or just until someone calls the police. But this is all his goddamn fault, parking in a gas station smack dab in Minami-Aoyama of all places where artists, celebrities, and pompous heiresses camp out at the jazz clubs here which Sukuna absolutely does not understand.

What's so good about a guy choking on some piece of metal that makes a sound similar to a dying seal? But oh well, pompous art for equally pompous people, I guess.

You walked out of that jazz club like you were straight out of a Hollywood movie, the kinds he used to steal from the local DVD rentals in Shinjuku. You were listening to something your friend has to say and your demure chortles invade the very air like the very melody could make the stars tumble to the ground out of pure jealousy because nothing could be quite as radiant - no, what the hell is he saying? He's a biker, not a poet. Even if he were, he's a shit one for using that stomach-churning cliché piece of word vomit.

Fucking gross. Sukuna stomps on his half-finished cigarette.

You were just hot - no, not quite the word - Sukuna scowls frustratedly - ah, there it is, pretty. Too pretty for you to even run around the same circles as him. The Dior mini bag you were carrying makes Sukuna postulate that you were probably born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you must have gone to an exclusive all-girls high school, afterwards, you must have been sent by your snobbyass parents to finish your studies overseas.

Even if he were to approach you right now, Sukuna grimaces at the thought, you'd probably run for Beverly fucking Hills.

Sukuna watches as you help your friend inside a taxi, waving them goodbye. "Please drop her off safely," he heard you say to the driver just as you shut the car door. Sukuna quirks an eyebrow when he spots you looking left, then right, and then left again before taking off your high heels, unafraid to look improper despite your pretty get-up. But your feet must be aching like hell after dancing all night to Roy Orbinson and Frank Sinatra.

You hurriedly head to your car that, as fate would have it, is parked in the same gas station he's hanging around. He doesn't say a word when you look at him a little fearfully when you approach your car that was parked just behind his Ninja H2, your eyes glaze over his leather jacket, his scandalously tight riding jeans, his pierced lip and tattooed face.

He tilts his head in a polite gesture that begs to convey: "Hey, I'm not gonna bite, kid."

Momentarily frozen, you had to shake yourself awake and you apologetically bow your head for staring too long. Slipping into the driver's seat, you fumble with your keys, struggling to turn on the engine. "H-huh?" you gasp. "Ah, no...no...come on..." You try to turn the key again and again hoping to get a reaction from your Benz but nothing happens.

Sukuna snickers slightly when he sees you mouth the word "shit" from his view of the windshield. For a pretty little thing, you seemed more like a spitfire than a delicate flower. You step out immediately going to pop the hood, struggling slightly but you somehow manage.

He watches on as you struggle to even look at what needs to be fixing. Finally, when he sees you tinkering around the parts, he speaks up, "It's probably the battery, miss."

"I...I don't need help, I'm fine," you insist despite him not offering. To be honest, Tokyo's a safe city so, even if you had to stay the night at this gas station waiting for help or the tow-truck - whichever comes first - it's not exactly an issue. The issue is havng someone...like him...hanging precariously around.

Now, you understand. You shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but if that book has everything your parents warned you about - tattoos, piercings, an unfriendly scowl - you'd settle for slowly putting it back on the shelf.

"The gas station has a power pack, you might wanna borrow it," Sukuna offers you some advice. "You got any jumper cables on you?"

"I'm sorry?" You blink obliviously. "I-I don't-?"

"Those bright orange things - ah, whatever - you probably have it in the trunk," Sukuna pushes himself off his bike. He's full of shit, playing knight in shining armor right now, but you look like you're about to cry. He slaps your hands away when you try to pull out the radiator.

"Ow! What are you doing?!"

"You want your car to explode or some shit?" Sukuna hisses. "Don't fuck around with anything else. I'll go see if I can borrow their power pack."

You look at him in disgust. Everything about this mystery man is just so infuriatingly vulgar, and he doesn't even wait for your permission, he's just stomping off towards a random gas station attendant, muttering under his breath about clueless rich kids and their cars. You scowl at his retreating figure, rubbing your hand where he slapped it away, lips parting in indignation at what you hear.

"Can't tell a spark plug from a bottle of champagne..."

"Excuse me?"

"Ah, you're excused, don't worry," Sukuna says as he returns, the power pack in one hand and a bundle of thick jumper cables in the other, the gas station's dim lights casting sharp shadows across his face, your nerves seem to fray even further.

Though, truth is, you're stuck between being grateful and horrified. If you don't make it back home, you weren't gonna hear the end of it from your parents about how Tokyo is dangerous and how you shouldn't be wandering around the city alone when you have bodyguards. But, it's all thanks to this stranger, a questionable-looking one at that, that you might just make it home tonight before your parents even notice you snuck out.

"Pop the hood," he orders, his tone flat but not unkind.

Your first instinct is to snap back. Just who the hell does he think he is? Assuming that you needed help when you had everything under control. That's obviously a lie, seeing as you were about to yank out your Benz's radiator. It'd be a nightmare explaining that to your parents and your insurance company. Surrendering, you uncross your arms, and pop the hood again.

It's infuriating how people always liked to assume that you needed help with everything. But that's just how it goes when you're an only child, and your parents had to undergo six rounds of IVF to have you because they spent most of their young adult life building their fortune that they forgot to have kids in the middle of all that. A spoiled brat - it wouldn't be a stretch to call you that. Still, it stings a bit because you never wanted to become one.

Nothing hurts you more than the thought of you growing up not knowing how to do anything for yourself.

"This happen to you often, princess?" Sukuna asks, his calloused and strong hands working their magic on your car, clearly, he's ressurected a lot of engines with the way he doesn't seem to flinch at the bitter scent of gasoline and burnt rubber.

"Don't call me that," you mutter. "And no, I don't make a habit of getting stranded since not all of us have experience with--" You gesture vaguely at the cables, his leather jacket, the bike, the car, and this entire situation. "-this."

Sukuna snorts, shaking his head. "Yeah, I figured. People like you don't get their hands dirty."

There it is again - people like you. The words grate on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard, but what stings more is the way he says it, like he's already decided everything about you just from your shoes, your car, your voice, where you like to hang out. It's honestly disgusting, but the truth always has an element of hurt hidden in it, right?

"Right, because you know everything about me," you mutter, a flash of hurt appearing on your features.

You don't know why, but the way he says it - so casual, so certain - makes your heart ache. He's not even insulting you, why would he have to? He doesn't know you, and you haven't done anything to offend him. He just...sees right through you and he's decided that you were just another shallow rich kid that doesn't belong in the real world.

And maybe you don't.

You're pulled from your thoughts by the sudden roar of your car's engine. Sukuna straightens, wiping his hands against his jeans before shutting the hood with a heavy almost contrite clunk. "There, good as new."

You let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding. Looks like this chance encounter is about to end. It's silly, feeling a little anxious at finally being able to go home which also spells that you'll probably never see this stranger again, but this demeaning and embarrassing situation happens to be your first encounter with the real world, the world outside the bubble your parents have confined you in.

And it hurts pulling away from it now and so soon too.

"Thank you," you say, quieter this time and you hate how small you sound and feel.

He shrugs, already walking back to his bike. "Don't mention it."

You watch him for a moment as he haphazardly lights a cigarette in the middle of a gas station, his face partially obscured by shadows but you manage to make out his frustrated frown when the lighter doesn't work. He's so focused on lighting the damn stick that he doesn't notice you bringing your own lit lighter to the end of his cigarette.

"Didn't think pretty girls like you were into bad habits like smoking," he exhales, a crooked grin tugging at his lips.

"You'd be surprised."

For too much of your life, you've had to put up with reminders from your folks like don't sit like that, don't do this, don't speak like this, don't go there, it's unbecoming of someone like you. And you're getting fucking sick of it, if only your parents could discover the many cigarettes and scratchers you've collected over the years, then, maybe they'd piece together that you only went to a jazz club tonight with every intention to end up in a nightclub later on.

You're self-destructive, he's dangerous.

And this entire exchange could cause your high-strung parents to suffer simultaneous strokes.

"Yeah?"

"Really," you rub your eyelid. "So...why'd you help me?"

Sukuna pauses mid-inhale, his crimson gaze flicking toward you through the haze. For a moment, you think he might say something serious, something straight out of those Audrey Hepburn movies where the girl falls for the greaser. But, that's kinda gross anyway, so you're a little thankful when he quips.

"Hell if I know. Maybe I'm just a sucker for pretty faces."

You blush, your heartbeat stuttering. Before you can respond, he waves you off dismissively, as if the moment never happened and should never be spoken of again like most moonlight rendezvous's.

"Now get outta here before I start charging you for my time."

"Ah right, sorry," you are suddenly reminded of paying your dues, so you take out your wallet, handing him a wad of yen bills. "Tell me if it's not enough. I can run to an ATM."

Sukuna stares at the bill, a little insulted. But tonight seems to be about judgmental assumptions anyway. He laughs - a low dark sound that makes the hair on your arms stand on end.

"What the hell do I look like, huh? A roadside service?" His voice isn't harsh, but the edge of amusement makes your cheeks burn. "Keep it, you might need it later on when your tires give way. Don't tell me you don't check the air pressure on them too."

"It's not like that!" you argue. "I just don't want to owe you anything. Just take it, and go buy yourself a beer or something, and then, we can move on with our lives, okay?"

"Owe me, huh?" He tilts his head, the faintest of smirks tugging at his lips. His gaze locks with yours and you take a step back until your back hits the driver's seat door, and there's something sharp and deliberate in the way he says: "Fine. You wanna pay me back?"

You nod.

"Tell me your name. Since you nearly threw a damn fit when I called you princess."

"What?"

"Your name," he shrugs as if it's the most casual thing in the world. "Otherwise, I can help you continue pulling out that radiator of yours."

"Are you threatening me?! Just when I was about to change my opinion on you!"

"Really? You'd do that for me?" Sukuna feigns gratitude, placing his hand over his heart. "I didn't think you were that stingy with your name. Unless you don't have one, now that's just pathetic. Even trashy sons of bitches like me have one of those."

"Fine, it's Y/N. And go clean up that mouth of yours, it's like you can't go a full sentence without profanity."

"Pretty name," Sukuna says, ignoring your last remark. You blush at the way he says it - low and rough, like it's a secret just between you two.

Your breath hitches and you roll your eyes, slipping into the driver's seat again, shutting the door with a final clunk. "You're insufferable," you mutter, your cheeks still warm, as you begin to drive away.

"No, my name's Sukuna! Drive safe, rich girl. Can't have your fancy car breaking down again," he whistles, leaning against his H2, waving cheekily, a cigarette dangling between his slotted lips.

He smirks when you roll down your car window only to flash him your middle finger.

"She's pretty, but she's a damn bitch," he mutters, though this time, there's a faint hint of a smile in his voice as he slips on his helmet.

A week has passed and the memory of Sukuna is still clinging to you like the scent of a too-sweet perfume, the ones that girls like you pre-order months in advance before it's even launched. You feel like an idiot, craving to see him again, when absolutely nothing happened between you. But when your mind wanders over to that random biker with too many tattoos, too much attitude but too little manners, you just wanna ruin your mom's expensive Picasso collection in the living room before you could even admit it out loud.

You're now standing in the back of your mansion now in Denenchofu, phone pressed to your ear, talking to one of your drivers - sipping your favorite vanilla bourbon tea - your heart pulsing with mischief.

"I need you to do something for me. Go mess with the car's AC, as in, break the damn thing if you can."

The driver hesitates. It's the middle of winter. "Miss, you - are you sure? That seems a bit-"

"Just do it," you plead. "Please, I promise I'll be safe. And I already sent your Christmas bonus to you!"

You hang up before he can say another word, a grin curling onto your lips. This must be the dumbest thing you've ever done, but it's too late to back out now, but what the hell? Nowadays, it's do or die.

That night, when you're sitting in your car, researching on this biker's meet in Shibuya, you coincidentally drive by, stopping in front of am awfully familiar Ninja H2, its chrome glinting under the streetlights. Its driver, seemingly having just arrived, whipping his head around when one of his buddies taps his shoulder, pointing in your direction.

You step out of your car, perfectly-rehearsed. You instantly pop the hood, pretending not to see him. "Oh no, not again," you smirk inwardly.

Sukuna bites back a laugh at how ridiculously obvious this entire farce is, but he decides to play along anyway. "Already broke down again? You should just drive that shit into the bay!" he calls, voice laced with mockery and something else, something close to affection.

You glance over at him, carefully hiding your amusement. "Think you can help me? You were quite the hero last time."

Sukuna raises an eyebrow at you, biting his lip at how you subtly play with your hair, the dark baritone of his voice making your heart skip. "You're pushing it, pretty girl. You think I'm just gonna swoop in and fix everything again when I've got a meet?"

You give him a dry look. "Not playing the hero today? Here I thought you wanted something more than my name this time around."

His eyes narrow, a flicker of something darker passing through them at the insinuation. "You do realize that if your AC's busted, you're just gonna have to freeze your little ass off since I don't know how to fix that." He brazenly pulls off the extra helmet on his buddy's bike, paying no heed to how his backpack glares at you and Sukuna, tossing it over to you. "Where you headed anyway? I'll just drop you off."

You shrug and he shakes his head, chuckling darkly. "Can't remember, huh? Then, let's just ride around for a bit until you do."

In the end, neither of you walk away unscathed. Your dainty Chanel tweed dress lays pooled on the floor of a random motel in Yokohama, right next to his leather jacket. In the end, you do remember where you're going after all, and that's straight into the inferno of Sukuna's embrace, even if you have to break your car a thousand times to get there.

#jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x y/n #jjk #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen

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hunkpossession0 · 8 months ago

Text

**Riding a New Life: A Ghost's Journey**

I had been a wandering spirit for what felt like an eternity. Ever since the accident that severed my connection to the living world, I had been drifting through the ether, invisible and forgotten. That is, until today.

I found myself in a dimly lit parking garage, the scent of gasoline and rubber filling the air. The growl of an engine echoed off the walls, and that’s when I saw him—a young biker, effortlessly cool in his black and red leather suit, leaning casually against his sleek Honda. He was everything I had once admired from afar, back when I was alive.

I watched him for a moment, a pang of envy and longing coursing through my spectral form. Then, almost instinctively, I felt myself drawn toward him. There was a sudden pull, a rush of energy, and before I knew it, I was inside his body.

The moment I slipped into his form, it was as if the world exploded in sensation. The first thing I noticed was the heat—the intoxicating warmth of his skin, the snug embrace of the leather suit wrapping around me. It was a second skin, tight and form-fitting, accentuating every contour and muscle. The leather was smooth and supple, a mix of security and allure that was almost overwhelming.

I flexed my fingers, feeling the resistance of the gloves, the reassuring grip they provided. I couldn't help but admire the strength in these hands, the power in this body. My heart raced, not just from the thrill of possession, but from the sheer intensity of feeling alive again. The suit clung to me, a perfect fit, and I relished the way it made me look—strong, confident, and undeniably hot.

Every step I took in the leather suit was a new discovery. The way it accentuated my broad shoulders, the way it hugged my biceps and triceps, making every muscle pop with definition. I could feel the smooth caress of the leather against my skin, the way it moved with me, an extension of my newfound strength.

After an exhilarating ride through the city, I decided to explore more of what this new life had to offer. I had noticed a gym bag in the trunk of his bike, and an idea struck me. I headed to the local gym, eager to test the limits of this new body.

Entering the gym, I felt a wave of excitement. The scent of sweat and metal filled the air, and the rhythmic clanking of weights created a motivating soundtrack. I walked confidently to the locker room, changing into a tank top and workout pants that showed off my muscular physique. The reflection in the mirror was almost surreal—I was now this fit, handsome biker with a body that drew admiration and respect.

I started with some light stretches, feeling every muscle respond with a fluidity and power I had never experienced before. Moving to the weight section, I picked up a dumbbell, the cold metal heavy in my hand. I began a series of bicep curls, watching in awe as the muscles in my arms bulged and flexed.

The intensity of the workout was intoxicating. I pushed myself harder, feeling the burn in my muscles, the rush of endorphins coursing through my veins. I moved from one machine to another, challenging myself with each set, reveling in the strength and endurance of this body.

Between sets, I caught glimpses of myself in the mirror. The way the tank top clung to my chest and shoulders, the way my arms looked pumped and powerful—it was a heady mix of vanity and pride. I couldn't help but snap a quick selfie, capturing the moment of pure, unadulterated strength.

As the workout continued, I felt a growing sense of accomplishment. This body was capable of so much, and I was determined to explore its limits. The sweat poured down my skin, a testament to the hard work and effort I was putting in. And with each rep, each lift, I could feel myself growing more confident, more comfortable in this new skin.

But something was missing. My spectral journey had been long and lonely, and I longed to share this new life with someone who understood. That’s when I remembered my closest ghost friend, another lost soul who had wandered with me through the void. He deserved this chance too.

Later that evening, I returned to the parking garage, where I found another biker—a friend of the man whose body I had claimed. He was tall and lean, with a rugged handsomeness that made my decision easy. I called out to my ghost friend, guiding him to this new vessel.

With a rush of energy, my friend entered the biker’s body. The transformation was immediate. He blinked, adjusting to the new sensations, then looked at me with a mixture of awe and gratitude. We were no longer lost souls. We were alive, and we had each other.

Together, we returned to the gym. It was a surreal experience, seeing my friend in his new form, watching him flex and admire his new physique. We took a moment to capture it—a selfie of the two of us, side by side, strong and proud. The bond we shared as ghosts had transformed into something deeper, something more intimate.

In the gym mirror, we stood close, our bodies radiating strength and confidence. My friend, now in his own muscular form, flexed his bicep while I wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Our tank tops clung to us, revealing every sculpted muscle, every defined line. The pride in our eyes was unmistakable. Here we were, two souls reborn, finding a new life and love in the most unexpected way.

As the days passed, we explored our new lives together. We rode our bikes through the city, feeling the wind on our faces, the thrill of speed and freedom. We worked out side by side, pushing each other to new heights, celebrating every achievement.

Our connection grew stronger, evolving into a romantic bond that felt natural and right. We were a couple now, navigating this new world together. The love we had for each other, forged in the ethereal realm, blossomed in our new, physical forms.

And as we stood together, gazing at our reflections, we knew that this was just the beginning. We had found a new home, a new life, and most importantly, we had found each other. The road ahead was ours to conquer, and we were ready to face it together.

The leather suit, which had started it all, became a symbol of our transformation. Every time I slipped into it, I felt a rush of excitement and power. The way it hugged my body, the way it made me look and feel—it was exhilarating. And as we rode together, side by side, I knew that we were more than just bikers. We were partners, lovers, and together, we were unstoppable.

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