#a straight up grease girl

[pinkprettycure]

Build was an extrmely good modern rider season that is also no where near as good as people pretend it is and it drives me nuts 😭

[propelbottle]

shout out to the group of youth pastors i saw in public today who i thought were a gay throuple with kids

[bi-writes]

thinking about mob baking simon a cake for his birthday (without his prior knowledge) mm good soup

mail-order bride

"you think he likes chocolate, baby?" you ask the cats. they sit side-by-side at the breakfast counter, being good girls as they sit on their chairs and watch you mix batter. "he totally likes chocolate. big boys like daddy love chocolate, don't they, girls?"

you grease two circular pans, pouring the chocolate cake batter into them. you set them in the oven before getting to work on your chocolate buttercream. you're using the new mixer simon bought you--it's beautiful, stainless steel, heavy. when you saw in the store a few weeks ago, you gushed at it, telling simon you saw someone make cinnamon rolls, bread, cakes, all in this mixer, but when your eyes skimmed over the price, you said nothing more, just smiled up at simon and let him lead you over to where the cast iron pans were (you wanted a real one).

a few weeks later, you noticed it on the kitchen counter. sparkling silver, right there, with the whisk attachment on it just waiting for you. and in the cupboard, ingredients--bread flour, powdered sugar, cornmeal, corn starch, dutch process, baking chocolate, whole wheat flour--all for you to play with. and when you baked him the most decadent triple chocolate coffee cake he had ever had, he bent you over the same table his empty plate sat and ate your cunt out with your apron still on. when you kissed him afterwards, he still tasted like chocolate.

you turn off the mixer, reaching in with a spoon to lick the buttercream off of it. you hum with delight, setting it aside, and when the oven timer dings, you pull the cakes out to let them cool.

you wrap simon's present as everything settles. special order, a favor you called into johnny. it's in a nice wooden box, and you tie a big red bow on it, and when you go back into the kitchen, you level and stack the two pieces of cake between buttercream and use a spoon to make a fancy decoration over the top of it.

the front door sounds as you're putting the finishing touches on the cake. you can hear him coming closer, and you gasp.

"no, no, no, don't come in the kitchen yet!"

"wot?"

"just--wait a little bit in the living room, okay?"

"for wot?"

"simon--" you groan. "please? for me?"

you don't hear anything after that except for the tv turning on. when you finish putting the last candles on the cake, you light them, picking up the plate and coming into the living room.

simon looks surprised. he was concentrating hard on the tv, watching the game, but his face relaxes when he sees you holding the cake. the cats perk up from where they're laid down beside him, and their ears flit as you start to sing happy birthday.

his whole face twitches. he stiffens, his palms flat on his thighs as he grips them tight. you set down the cake on the coffee table in front of him, candles glowing as you take a seat next to him. he's still staring at the cake as you finish the song.

"happy birthday, dear simon...happy birthday to you."

you smile at him, wrapping a hand around his bicep, squeezing it gently. you kiss his shoulder before motioning to the cake.

"you can blow them out now, simon," you say softly. "make a wish."

he doesn't move. he stares straight ahead, his eyes fixated on the flickering candles. you reach down and take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers and hugging his arm. you sit with him quietly, looking at the cake with him, and after a minute or so, you turn back at him.

"simon?" you whisper.

he's crying. you put a hand on the back of his head, scratching his short hair, and you cup his face gently as you wipe his tears. he's silent. the tears come, but he still doesn't move, still won't meet your eyes. you smile, going over to pick up the cake, and you hold it in front of him.

"here...make a wish, simon," you say softly. he picks up his sleeve and wipes his face, leaning over to blow out the candles. you put down the cake, standing up to go get his gift sitting on the kitchen table. when you sit down next to him again, he's still staring at the cake, still trying to pretend his face isn't wet with tears, but he stops wiping them when you place the box in his lap.

he unravels the bow. when he opens the case, he lets out a little chuckle, smoothing his hand over the foam inside.

there are an array of throwing knives laid before him. perfectly crafted, in different shapes and sizes, and when he picks one up and twirls it around between his fingers, the weight of them and the ease at which they move tells him you only picked out the finest quality. they're beautiful, and it's a thoughtful gift, and when he closes the lid on the box, he still can't meet your eyes.

"i'll cut us some cake," you say softly. you busy yourself getting plates and a cake knife from the kitchen, cutting generous slices before handing him one of the plates. he picks up the fork, and when you notice his hand shakes, you take the plate back from him gently and scoop a bite onto the fork for him. you don't say anything, just hold it up to his mouth, and once he takes a bite, you set the plate down and watch as he chews.

when he swallows, you sit again in silence. you reach over and take simon's hands in your own, squeezing them gently before bringing them up to your mouth to kiss softly. when he finally looks at you, all you do is smile.

he hadn't even remembered it was birthday. he never told you when it was, but he supposes you must have been curious enough to look for yourself. he can't remember the last time someone made him cake. he can't remember when he last received a gift, especially one like this. he doesn't know when he last thought himself happy enough to celebrate anything at all, but there is no other way he would've wanted today to go.

joy. you bring uninhibited, unfiltered, all-consuming joy. the way you're smiling at him--he can already see you in the kitchen in that apron, baking this cake, talking to no one but the cats as you carefully decorate it. the way you're looking at him--he knows you dreamed about this all week, scheduling the day so you could have the cake done as soon as he got home.

and chocolate. his favorite. decadent, sweet chocolate--it's still under his tongue, and he wants another bite already, he cannot wait to devour the slice that waits for him on the table.

"happy birthday, simon," you whisper, and when you lean in to hug him, he cradles the back of your head, tangling a hand into your hair as he presses you to his chest. "i love you."

fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck--

"love you, too, baby."

"what did you wish for?" you mumble into his shoulder. simon snorts a little, shaking his head.

"if i tell ya, it won't come true."

"oh, yeah," you giggle. "keep your secrets then."

he doesn't want more; the only thing he wishes for is more time. more time with you. as much as he can get. to live long enough that he gets to see your face for as long as possible.

that whatever he sees for the last time will be you and you only.

[jadeddangel]

Hello! How about arcane charaters reaction to the reader wearing a pretty dress/outfit?

Please and Thank you

Arcane reacting to the reader in a pretty outfit

Jinx:

Whistles, like straight up

She'll stop whatever she's doing to give you all of her attention and I mean all of it

It's funny that you think that your walking away walking

If your a girl or a trans fem? She's got a strap in her workbench drawer ready for the occasion

You wanna top her? She's alright with that go straight ahead

Your male or trans masc? She will ride you until your shaking or give you head whatever you want

Your either passing out or crawling out of her workshop

"Oh! Hi bab- *whistles* well damn your a pretty thing!" Jinx giggled out excitedly,"cmere cmere! I wanna love on you!" Jinx insisted

"Ok ok ok what's up?" You said walking closer.

And then Jinx pulled you closer, whispering in your ear while letting out little laughs "yknow~ you look so pretty, but what if we just take it off?"

Your neck will be marked and hell she might even get you a collar with her name on it, just for a good precaution yknow?

Vi:

You're now not allowed to go anywhere without her

Your gonna go shopping and it's topside? She's got a hoodie on

You have to go to work? She's staying right where she can see you

Your working for silco? She knows how to follow and be undetected

She marks you, not even in a sexual way, she's just possessive

It's either your getting marked and she's going with you

Or your staying home and changing

"Little mouse? Oh, oh my..where do you think you're going?" Vi asked, leaning her side against the doorway

"Huh? Oh, I was gonna go shopping up topside and wanted to look nice. Why? Do I not look good?" You asked paranoid

"No, you just look a little too good, little mouse." Vi moved closer

Yea, on the other hand, if she decides you look too good, she'll just take it off herself

Silco:

He doesn't care

Like genuinely

He always has someone watching over you to make sure your safe

You insist you can take care of yourself? He'll agree with you(and send sevika after you)

He's borderline asexual and doesn't particularly feel the need to make sure your marked by him or anything

He knows he's feared in the underground, so there's nothing to worry about

You knocked on silco's door carefully hearing a muffled "come in" from behind it

Silco took a moment to glance up from his papers when he heard you walk through the door. "Ah good morning, my dear. I hope you slept well," silco said, setting his pen down

You nodded "yea I was gonna go out, so I was just letting you know "

Silco nodded. "ok dear, have a good time." Silco waited five minutes after you left to call sevika into his office. "Follow them," he ordered sevika

And this is the routine every time

Ekko:

You think your leaving your shared room like that? Hahaha no.

He will lock you in your bedroom till you change or will change you himself

After the day is done he'll insist you put it back on so he can admire you properly

Intimate moments were rather rare due to him running the firelights

So he definitely took advange of this

Those clothes aren't lasting through the night and neither is the grease paint on his face

"Morning firefl- no. Get back in that room now. " Ekko cut himself off, setting his coffee cup down on the counter and pushing you into the room gently

"Ekko nooo! Cmon, I look adorable!" You insisted

"Yea I know and I don't wanna have to deal with certain problems of my own and keep people from looking at you in the way only I'm allowed to, so change" Ekko finished before locking you in the bedroom and standing there until you were done

He loves you so much if you can't tell

[loserboysandlithium]

Some of my ex boyfriend Eddie headcanons:

18+ hoes

Ex boyfriend Eddie who purposely leaves his t shirt behind after your ‘hate fucks’ because he knows how much you love them. As soon as he leaves you’ll slip into it, his smell enveloping you, the familiar scent comforting you until you drift off to sleep.

Ex boyfriend Eddie who still randomly leaves flowers on your doorstep. Something he’s done for years now. Never a real bouquet. Random wildflowers he saw that just ‘reminded him of his wild girl’.

Ex boyfriend Eddie who gets so insanely jealous he can’t see straight when he sees you at a party even speaking to another guy. (More than a few fights have ensued, all of them ending with Eddie destroying you in the back of his van, sweaty and bloody).

Ex boyfriend Eddie who continues to call you every pet name in the book. You always act like it annoys you but he knows how much you love it.

Ex boyfriend Eddie who gets drunk and is either ridiculously horny, sending you the most risqué texts or like a sad puppy begging for your attention.

Ex boyfriend Eddie who still slips up saying he loves you almost every single time he’s near you.

Ex boyfriend Eddie who starts a fight with you because he knows how much it turns you on.

Ex boyfriend Eddie who still takes care of things for you. You wake up to see him outside, changing your oil, covered in grease and sweat.

Ex boyfriend Eddie who fucks you like no one else and knows it. He’s a cocky shit as he’s balls deep and you’re clawing at his back, screaming his name and only his name.

Ex boyfriend Eddie who still defends your name to every person who has something bad to say about his girl. ‘Not your girl, Eds.’ ‘Whatever you say, sweetheart.’ As he kisses your forehead gently, wiping away the tears caused by some asshole.

More ex boyfriend Eddie here

[dee-the-red-witch]

How to ACTUALLY date a trans girl

(This column was originally submitted to Autostraddle as a reply to their "A Trans Guy’s Guide to Picking Up a Trans Girl" but since they've apparently passed on it, it gets to be posted up free everywhere else instead.) Picture this- you’re a trans woman who’s been in transition for three years now. Your dating life has gone from abysmal to amazing in alternate fits and spurts and you’ve found not just one, but three awesome partners despite the many, MANY pitfalls you’ve experienced along the way. And then one day, your social media feeds ping up with screencaps of a guide to picking up girls like yourself. Needing a good laugh, you click through. And read. And proceed to smack your forehead with your own palm in frustration a few times and giggle and some other lines on the first readthrough. But things feel off, so you read again. And begin to seethe. And then start opening up the Word document and start typing frenziedly into it. Because honestly? At the end of the day, as a trans lesbian who dates all sorts of people on non-male parts of the amorphous spectral mass that is Gender, I feel like I’m obligated to. I wanted to go into that first reading and find a column that actually got things right, and this was so far off the mark in the worst ways, so I feel like I have to set some things down on paper. Because this guide reads, in so many ways, like everything my cisfem friends have complained about in the straight dating scene for years. Reading through it that second time, I felt almost the exact same sense of of sheer grease and sleaze that I’ve felt reading incel pickup guides. I felt like I was being seen as a pretty object at best and a disposable sex toy at worst. I wasn’t treated as human. At best it was a bunch of stereotypes, none of which applied to me. But under it all, I saw other bits- the tricks an abuser used to lure me in. The lies my rapist fed me. The excuses made by folks online for why I should be treated like a monster or thing because of my identity. You know, the specific blend of misogyny that singles out transfem identities in general- transmisogyny. And since we’re addressing the elephant in the room, I want to address a few particular points from Gabe’s article before I give you some real idea of how to go about this. And I want to emphasize here- this is after editing out a page of swearing, going over Gabe’s own past history of transmisogynistic writing, and just cutting it down to the actual points where the original article really went wrong, and also pick up a few points at the end that’ll actually work well for trans guys or anyone else who might be interested in a relationship with a trans girl. First off, if you’re trans as well? Stop playing the ‘we’re both trans’ card. ESPECIALLY if you’re coming at it from a ‘Why yes, I used to be a woman’ angle. For one, you’re telling us at the same time that you see us as former men, which is usually very much not the transfem experience (Personally, I always felt like I was putting on a ‘man’ act. All the time. Badly.) and for another, you’re being transphobic to yourself and your own identity. If we’re there to date you, it’s as the man you are- be that guy.

Secondly, just because the trans woman experience shares similarities with the experience you had trying to be a woman up until you came out and transitioned, it also has staggering fundamental differences, and your attempts to relate are going to highlight those differences in ways that aren’t going to work in your favor. We didn’t get to go shopping in public, or if we did, it was fraught with fear at being caught out in the early stages of transition, followed by massive frustrations with both trying to figure out where we fit into women’s sizing. And then discovering that absolutely nothing available in local stores, including thrift shops, would fit right, especially not that cute choker we’d always been drooling over. That nothing smelled right for lotion or perfume because we were dealing with a body chemistry that was going through a slow shift on HRT. And we don’t need or want to be reminded of just how much we stand out from the other girls in those kind of regards.

Also, maybe, just maybe, don’t do things that would get seen as completely misogynistic and creepy if you pulled them on a cisgender woman. Don’t go digging into her socials- stalkers and chasers pull that crap and it’s beyond tiresome. Don’t try to deduce what her pretransition life was like, that’s for her to share, if she chooses to. Don’t see her as a stereotype- some of us never played New Vegas, owned cat ears, or like thigh-highs. On that first date if you ever get there, don’t bring her flowers, lovebomb her like mad, constantly find little ways to touch her, any of that- if she has any experience, she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop in response, because she’s had this treatment before and it ended oh so badly. Just be yourself. And get it through your head that the bear is still definitely a choice regardless of everything- after all, we have examples like Gabe to prove that transmisogyny certainly isn’t limited to cis folks.

What should you do? Treat her like any other woman. Treat her like a human being, because we get so little of that, even from the rest of the LGBTQIA+ community. Yes, you’ll more than likely have to take initiative, because we’re used to seeing our attractions, needs, and desires as being perceived as aggressive or predatory by others. When you touch her, do it with assertion and intent- none of the little brushes and stalker moves- ask if you can hold her hand, or put an arm around her, so she knows you actually want to be here and want contact with her. Listen to her, and pay attention- let her be open and honest about her experiences and interests, and remember what she tells you, because she’s going to need to know that she’s wanted and valued for who she is and what she’s into, and it will be part of how she connects to you. And finally? Common sense and communication- every last one of us is different in a lot of ways, and asking or making room to talk about things from physical contact and sex to social activity or group outings or anything else can save a lot of blunders from ever happening. All in all you can and should date trans women! Please! A lot of the best relationships I’ve ever had were with other trans girls and I don’t regret any of those. But you have to put down the pickup guides, stop seeing us as fetish dispensers and sexy lampshades, and actually deal with us as people, first.

[aliyahwritings]

MECHANIC!RAFE & BOSS' DAUGHTER!READER

masterlist.

MECHANIC!RAFE... has been in love with you since you were kids. He’d watch you from afar, telling Topper and Kelce with unwavering conviction that he’d marry you one day. They’d laugh in his face, but Rafe wasn’t joking—not for a second.

MECHANIC!RAFE... started working for your dad at the garage when he was just fourteen, helping his family make ends meet. Though his love for mechanics runs deep, he can’t help but steal glimpses of you from the window above. He knows your routine by heart—the way you blast music and dance when you think no one’s watching, the intense focus you have while studying, and the cute frown you make when you're deep in thought. His favorite moments? When you come downstairs to talk to your dad and pointedly ignore him, like he doesn’t even exist.

BOSS' DAUGHTER!READER... pretends to be annoyed by him because you love watching him try so hard to get your attention. There’s a thrill in the tension between you, and you thrive on it. Secretly, though, you have a crush on him—but you’d never admit it. If your dad found out, Rafe would be out of a job, and you can’t let that happen.

MECHANIC!RAFE... who drops everything when Barry calls, saying his girl—you—are getting way too drunk at a party. He doesn’t hesitate. He jumps in his car and heads straight there. It doesn’t take long to find you, swaying unsteadily with a drink in hand. Softly, he tells you it’s time to go home. You protest, whining about wanting to stay, but Rafe isn’t having it. Without a word, he lifts you into his arms, holding you like you’re the most precious thing in the world, and carries you to his car.

MECHANIC!RAFE... who always had your back—even sneaking you into your room without your parents catching on.

When you both turned 18, MECHANIC!RAFE finally mustered the courage to ask you out. Of course, you said yes, and the very next day, you were buzzing with excitement as you got ready for your first date. He surprised you with a fancy restaurant, insisting on covering the bill despite your protests. The entire evening, Rafe was effortlessly charming, his romantic side on full display.

MECHANIC!RAFE... drove you home, you couldn’t stop thanking him for such a perfect night. But as you stood there under the soft glow of the moonlight, Rafe wasn’t listening—he was too captivated by how breathtaking you looked. 

MECHANIC!RAFE... leaned in and kissed you.

A year later, and BOSS' DAUGHTER!READER is now his girlfriend… but in secret. You’re hiding your relationship from your father, sneaking into the garage during breaks to steal moments together. Sometimes, it’s just to talk. Other times, it’s for a quickie with your boyfriend.

It’s risky, but neither of you can stay away. Every glance, every touch, every whispered word between oil-stained tools and the scent of gasoline only fuels the fire.

MECHANIC!RAFE... is always teasing, smirking at the way you try to keep your composure. “Careful, princess. Don’t want Daddy walking in on us, do you?” he’d say, his hands brushing against your waist as he pulls you closer.

But it’s not just the physical moments that keep you tied to MECHANIC!RAFE. It’s the way he remembers all the little things about you, like how you like your coffee or the song that always gets stuck in your head. It’s the way he works tirelessly at the garage, all grease and grit, yet somehow finds the time to make you feel like the only thing that matters.

Still, the secrecy wears on you both. There are nights when you lie awake, wondering how long you can keep this up. MECHANIC!RAFE always reassures you, his voice low and steady. “We’ll figure it out,” he promises, his rough hands brushing against your cheek. “I’m not losing you, no matter what.”

For now, you live for the stolen moments—his heated kisses, his playful smirks, and the way he looks at you like you’re his whole world, even when the rest of it is trying to pull you apart.

INFO ABOUT UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @aliyahwritings-notifs and turn on notifications!!!

[joelmillerisapunk]

Dirty Daddy

Dbf/daddy!Joel x f!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 2,489

Summary: Congratulations, you've just earned yourself a daddy, albeit not for being a good girl.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, light consensual choking, light slapping, oral receiving m!&f!, fingering, implied age gap, mentions of the names 'slut, brat, babygirl, sweetheart, good girl, and daddy', Joel's all greasy and sweaty.

Notes: it was this picture that inspired this along with part of a request I received that I'm writing a different daddy!fic for. Tysm @saradika-graphics for the divider

Joel groans as he tightens a bolt on his truck, sweat drips down his forehead and mixes with the dirt and grease that cover his face and hands. He's been working on this truck for hours, ever since it broke down on him during a job, his last job of the day. He could be home relaxing. Instead, he's here. Luckily for him, his buddy, your dad offered him the use of his garage to work on it, and Joel gladly accepted. It wasn't often that he got the chance to work on his baby, and he wasn't going to let a little thing like a broken engine get in his way.

But as he stands up and stretches his aching back, he can't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. It isn't just the truck that’s been giving him trouble - it’s you, who's been teasing him mercilessly since he arrived. Wearing those skimpy clothes, that short fucking skirt, that leaves little to the imagination, bending over in front of him and "accidentally" brushing up against him as you walk by. Joel's been trying to ignore you, but it's getting harder and harder to do so.

As if on cue, you walk into the garage with a smirk on your face. "Hey Joel, need any help?" You ask, leaning over the open hood, letting your cleavage do most of the talking.

Joel grits his teeth as he looks up straight at your breasts and then quickly back down to the engine. "No, I got it.” he says as he looks up once more only to see you pouting, but Joel can see the spark in your eye. You're enjoying this, you fucking minx.

"Come on, Joel. I'm just trying to help." You reach up to adjust yourself on the hood of the truck, giving him a clearer view of your breasts that are now pretty much popping out of your top. You catch his gaze and smirk, knowing exactly what you're doing to him. You hop down and start touching his arm, “cmon, I can help, I'll hold the flashlight or something.”

Joel snaps, dropping the tool he's holding, and pushes you roughly against the nearest free wall. His grip is tight around your arms despite being all greased up from his truck. "I know what you're doin'," he growls, "And it ain't gonna work."

You can see the fire in his eyes, and you know you've pushed him too far. But instead of backing down, you challenge him. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Joel's eyes narrow, and you can see the tension building in his muscles. "I'm warnin’ you," he says, his voice gets deeper and quieter. "Stop, or you're gonna get a lot more than you bargained for."

"Is that a promise?" you ask.

Joel's eyes go dark, and he grabs your face roughly, his dirty fingers grasping into the hollows of your cheeks, pulling you close, leaving his musky, grimy scent on you. "You have no idea what you're gettin’ yourself into, do ya?” Joel's grip on your face tightens as he leans in closer, his breath hot on your face. "You think you're being clever, huh? Lemme tell ya something, sweetheart. You're playin with fire, and you're gonna get burned."

You can feel the heat radiating off of Joel's body, and you know he's serious. But instead of being afraid, you're turned on. You've never seen this side of Joel before, and you can't help but feel yourself getting wet.

Without warning, Joel grabs you by the waist and pins you harder against the wall as he grinds himself against you, his hardness pressing into your core. "This whatcha want babygirl?" His lips brush against your ear. "You've been teasin' me all day, I think it's my turn to have a little fun now."

You moan as Joel's hands roam over your body, roughly groping your breasts and ass, leaving dark stains across your clothes. You can feel his cock straining against his pants, and you can't wait to feel him inside of you.

"Please," you whimper, "I need it."

Joel smirks as he pulls away from you. "Beggin already?" He says, 'That ain’t like you."

He reaches down and unzips his pants, pulling out his long, hard cock and starts to stroke it. "On your knees," he commands.

You don't hesitate, sinking to your knees in front of him. You take his cock in your hand, stroking it gently as you look up at him with wide, pleading eyes. Joel's eyes darken as he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head towards his cock. "Open wide, and don't fuckin’ bite."

You comply, opening your mouth wide as Joel slides his cock inside. You moan as you feel him hit the back of your throat, your tongue swirling around his shaft as you suck him off.

Joel groans as he fucks your mouth, his hips thrusting forward as he pounds into the very back of your throat. You can feel his cock swelling inside of you, every vein hitting your tongue.

"Such a good little slut, suckin my cock like a pro."

You moan around his cock, your pussy getting wetter with every thrust.

"M’gonna come baby, and you're gonna swallow every last drop."

You nod eagerly, your mouth still wrapped around his cock. Joel groans as he explodes inside of you, his hot seed filling your mouth as you swallow every last drop just like he said. He pulls out, his cock still hard as he looks down at you with a satisfied smirk. "Good girl, you earned that."

Joel takes a moment to catch his breath before he walks over and starts to clear off the workbench. He pushes aside tools and spare parts, making enough space for you. Once he's satisfied, he turns to you with a stern look in his eyes. "Get up here," he commands, patting the now-clear space on the workbench.

You don't hesitate, hopping up onto the bench and spreading your legs wide for him. Joel steps between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips as he pulls you closer to the edge. "You've been a brat all day, teasin' me and temptin me," his fingers dig into your skin.

Joel's gaze is intense as he looks at you. His eyes are filled with desire and a hint of something darker. He leans in closer, his breath is hot on your skin as he starts to kiss a trail down your body, his lips leave a burning sensation in their wake.

His hands roam over your body, roughly groping anything he can as he continues to kiss and nip at your skin. You can feel his facial hair scratching against your sensitive flesh, and it sends shivers down your spine.

When he reaches your thighs, Joel smirks and spreads your legs wider, exposing your wet and aching core to his gaze and no panties - you drive him crazy. "You've been teasin' me all day, s’only fair. I get to taste what I've been missin.” He looks up at you, his eyes filled with lust as he leans in closer, his breath hot on your pussy. Without warning, Joel starts to lick and suck at your clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves as he teases you. You moan loudly, your hips bucking up towards his mouth as you try to get closer to him.

Joel's fingers dig into your hips, holding you in place as his tongue delves deeper, exploring every inch of your pussy, sucking and licks at your wetness. Lapping it up like a thirsty dog. He continues to feast on your pussy, his tongue exploring every inch of your wetness as you moan and writhe beneath him. Just as you feel yourself getting close to the edge, Joel pulls away, leaving you wanting and needy.

"Uh-uh I ain't done with ya."

You whimper in frustration, and your hips buck up towards him as you try to get him to continue. But Joel is in control, and he's not going to let you come that easily. He stands up and looks down at you. You can see the hardness of his cock that's been tucked back into his jeans, and you know he's just as turned on as you are.

Joel reaches down and helps you off the workbench, his grip on you is firm as he leads you towards the door of the garage. "We're gonna finish this in your bedroom.”

Your body is still tingling with desire as you follow him out of the garage and towards your house.

As you reach the door of your house, Joel turns to you with a serious look in his eyes. "We gotta be quiet, go make sure the coast is clear.”

You quickly and quietly make your way through the house, checking each room to make sure no one is around. When you reach your father's office, you see that he's deeply engrossed in his work, completely unaware of what's happening just a few feet away.

You give Joel a quick nod, signaling that the coast is clear. Joel grabs your hand and leads you up the stairs to your bedroom, his grip firm, and reassuring. When you reach your bedroom, Joel pushes you inside and closes the door behind you, locking it to ensure that no one will interrupt you.

Joel looks around your bedroom, his eyes taking in the familiar surroundings. He turns to you, "Take off your clothes," he commands.

You hesitate for a moment, your hands hovering over your shirt. But the look in Joel's eyes tells you that he's not in the mood for games. As you slip out of your shirt, Joel's eyes rake over your body, taking in the lacy bra that barely covers your breasts.

"Keep goin,"

As you slip out of your jeans, Joel's eyes follow the movement, taking in the curve of your hips and the softness of your thighs.

"Take it all off baby," he commands.

You comply, slipping out of your bra and panties, leaving you completely naked in front of him.

Joel undresses himself, his movements quick and efficient. He pulls off his shirt, revealing the hard muscles of his chest and arms. His jeans follow, revealing the long and hard cock that's been tucked away, waiting so patiently for you.

You can't help but stare as Joel undresses, your eyes taking in the dirt and grease that cover his body. He's been working on his truck all day, and the evidence is clear on his skin.

"Like whatcha see, babygirl?"

You nod, unable to speak as you take in the sight of him. Joel steps closer to you, his hands reaching out to touch your body. His fingers leave dark stains across your skin, the evidence of his work still present.

He lays you down on the bed, and his body hovers over yours. His hands roam over your body. His touch is rough, but there's a tenderness to it that drives you crazy.

He leans down to kiss you, his lips rough against yours. His tongue delves into your mouth, exploring every inch as he tastes you. You can taste yourself on his lips, a reminder of what he's done to you.

Joel's hand moves between your legs, his fingers exploring your throbbing clit. He teases you, his fingers circling your clit but never quite touching it. You moan into his mouth, your hips bucking up towards his hand.

"Please, Joel," you beg, "I need to come."

But Joel is relentless, continuing to tease you just like you did to him, as he watches you squirm beneath him. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your orgasm building deep inside of you.

“Joel,” you whine, “don't be an asshole, let me come.”

Joel chuckles and gives you a light but sobering smack to the cheek. “You don't get to be a little brat and get your way - Beg for it.”

"Fuck you-," you whimper, your voice trembling with need. "Please daddy.”

Joel's eyes blaze as he hears you call him Daddy. He increases the pressure on your clit, his fingers moving faster and harder as he brings you closer to the edge again, he can feel it. "You like that, babygirl?" his breath is hot as he leans close to your ear. "You like it when Daddy teases you?”

“Mmm, yes daddy yes. Feels s-so good.”

Joel can't hold back any longer. He positions himself between your legs, his cock pressing against your wet and aching core. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with lust and something darker. He growls as he thrusts his hips forward, burying himself deep inside of you.

You moan loudly as you feel him fill you up, your pussy stretching to accommodate his ever growing, ever hardening size. Joel starts to move, his hips thrusting forward as he pounds into you. Each thrust is harder than the last, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

Joel's hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he fucks you. His fingers dig into your skin. You can feel his cock swelling inside of you, every vein hitting your sensitive flesh.

"You like it when Daddy fucks ya like the dirty little brat you are?"

You moan in response, your hips buck up to meet his thrusts. You can feel your orgasm building deep inside of you. “Want you to choke me daddy, please.”

Joel doesn't hesitate, he pulls out of you and flips you onto your stomach. He grabs your hair, pulling your head back as he wraps his other hand around your throat, cutting off your airway just enough to make you feel lightheaded.

You moan as you feel his cock press against your entrance once again. He thrusts forward, filling you up completely. He starts to fuck you hard and fast, his hips slapping against your ass as he pounds into you.

You can feel your orgasm building once again, your body tensing up as you get closer and closer to the edge. "Not yet, babygirl, fuck - wanna come with ya.” Joel increases his pace. His thrusts become erratic as he feels your pussy clenching around his cock, your orgasm just on the edge.

"Come for me, baby," Joel commands.

Your moans are muffled and strained as you feel yourself fall over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. You can feel your pussy clenching around Joel's cock, milking him for all he's worth.

Joel groans as he feels you come, his hips thrusting forward as he empties himself inside of you. He collapses beside you, his body spent and satisfied.

As he catches his breath, Joel looks at you with a satisfied smirk. "Next time you pull that shit, babygirl, I ain't gonna letcha come."

[calumfmu]

The King's Reign

King Steve, the stupid nickname you had heard your entire life. The rumors, the huge ego to match. It was everything that made you hate him, especially when your best friend wouldn't shut up about him. Robin was forcing you to be friends with him, but it wouldn't stop the passion you had dedicated to wanting nothing to do with him.

Steve Harrington x reader, enemies to lovers edition, 7.7k+ words

cw: smut, unprotected sex, oral, Steve talking you through it (!!), fingering, angst, tension, 18+, mdni

You had heard rumors of ‘King Steve’ your entire life. Being in a small town like Hawkins allowed every rumor—big or small, to be spread like wild fire. Even when it came to talking about Steve Harrington’s dick. No matter what you did, nothing could allow you to escape the whispers throughout the town.

When Robin had befriended the man of conversation, you were annoyed, to say the least. You could barely escape him when you were trying not to listen to the gossip mill, but it was even harder when your best friend wouldn’t shut up about the guy.

You chewed on a fry, eyes focused behind your friend as you gazed at a group of girls from your school across the way. They were walking into a Tammy’s, hair higher than ever and short shorts hiked up on their long legs. You stared at them, wondering if they had a run around with the guy.

Robin was droning on about something Steve had done today at work, involving a bunch of kids who seemed too young for him.

A fry hit the side of your head, knocking your focus into her instead of the girls across the mall.

“Yn!” Robin sighed, rolling her eyes at you. “You’re not even listening to me.”

“And you would be incorrect,” you responded, smoothing the grease off of your face from where it hit. You grimaced, annoyed at her antics. “You said something about Steve, some kid named Justin, and a stupid handshake or something.”

Robin pressed her lips in a straight line, rolling her eyes once more. They might roll out of her head at this point, you thought.

“His name is Dustin, and the handshake wasn’t stupid, it was cute,” she huffed, throwing her hands in the air. She pushed her food tray away from her, burger half eaten and fries lay abandon across the plastic.

You gasped, leaning across the table and you crossed your arms over your chest. “Woah, Rob.”

She furrowed her brow, wondering what you were getting at.

“I had no idea you swung that way, new development I see.” You wiggled your eyebrows at her, wanting to see how far her patience went. “I just have to know—is it as big as everyone says it is?”

You laughed and leaned back in your chair, blocking your face with your arms as Robin threw a handful of fries at you. Her patience ran out, clearly.

“Yn, can you please be serious for once?” The brunette whined, pouting out her bottom lip as she looked at you. Her infamous begging face. “I’m just telling you because I want you to be friends with him. I can’t be a child of divorce between you. It’s so emotionally draining.”

You giggled, eyeing the way her uniform made her look ridiculous as she begged you. It was rumpled in all the wrong places, red tie hanging loosely at her neck. It made her look like she was perpetually going to a Halloween party.

“How do you think I feel being an actual child of divorce?”

She gaped at you, mouth hanging open as she was at a loss of words. Sputtering, she found the words to say, “Fuck, okay my bad. You know what I meant!”

“I know, Rob, Im just fucking with you,” you laughed, shaking your head as she flushed in the face. She genuinely felt bad, you could tell.

Your parents had recently divorced, next month marking the full year since their split. Tommy and his stupid friends had made it their entire personality and asked you about it ever since the news hit the town. What’s wrong with Mommy and Daddy, they would ask. Daddy found out Mommy slept with the entire town?

You grimaced, thinking about the memories. None of the rumors were true, but that didn’t falter the town people into thinking that you all should be walking around with a Scarlet Letter on your chest.

Shaking your head, you diverted the subject as you hand came to rest of the table. “Me and Steve have never been friends, so you can’t be a child of divorce, Rob. And also, I don’t want to be friends with him.”

Robin stretched her arms across the table, grasping your hand in the two of hers. “Yn, please. I know we both used to hate him-”

“Still do.”

“-but I really think you’ll like him,” she continued, not batting an eyelash at your interruption. “He’s not that same Steve-”

“King Steve.”

“-that everyone talks about. Those rumors are just rumors, I mean, you know how it goes.” She paused when you looked away from her, squinting as you stared unfocused in the distance. You took a deep breath, clearing your throat in discomfort as you turned to look back at her. “Please, Yn?”

You chose silence in this moment, blinking at her with a serious expression on your face as she pouted at you. Her blue eyes were practically watering at this point, long lashes batting rapidly at you.

“Please, Yn.”

Her pleads continued, grip squeezing into your hand as a deadpan expression was being held on your face. This went on for another two minutes (you counted) as she begged you, leaning down every 15 seconds or so to kiss at your hand.

“Okay! Okay, fine, Rob!” You gave in, laughing as she decided to place kisses all over every inch of your hand. She cheered, throwing her hands in celebration before shaking them clasped at the sides of her head, as if thanking an audience for winning an award.

“I literally love you so much, Yn,” she beamed at you, lips stretched thin as she exposed all of her teeth to you. You don’t think she’s smiled this big, ever. “So, tonight, I was thinkin-”

“Tonight?!” Your eyes opened wide, heart beating in your chest as you realized how soon this interaction was going to be. You thought you at least had more than a few hours.

“Oh,” she smirked at you, tilting her head to the side. “Did I not mention that it was tonight?”

Sighing, you trailed a hand down your face, pulling down your features as she shared the details to come. You loved your friend, you really did. She was your best friend, but Christ was she a lot sometimes.

Awkward wasn’t the word to describe the tension in the room. The only sound you could hear was Robin’s nails clacking against the sound of her glass, and Steve’s occasional cough.

You were curled into the side of the couch, Steve on the other, Robin in between the two of you. Steve was looking every which way except the two of you, hand running through his hair as he chewed on his bottom lip. Robin glanced between the two of you, taking sips of her watered down sloppy cocktail in her hand. She kept moving to say something, mouth opening and closing around empty words.

You with your back against the arm of the couch, feet tucked into you as you stared down Steve. You were curious, if they were to ask you. You took in his features, his long hair, giant brown eyes, and navy—is that fucking cashmere?—sweater across his shoulders.

You were observing why him and Robin were friends, why this man had such a hold on your friend. He was attractive, you could admit, boyish features drawing you in, in a way you would never admit in a thousand years. He seemed nervous in this moment, something you hadn’t expected him to be. Cocky, arrogant, rude, brash, anything but this.

But he was still King Steve. The man you had heard about since you went to elementary school together. You were forced to listen to stories of Steve kissing girls underneath the jungle gym evolved to him fucking them in the back of his BMW at the drive-in. It was repulsive.

Robin cleared her throat, drawing your attention away from Steve as his into her. She offered a small smile, awkwardly tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“So… guys,” she phrased it like a question, voice dragging up on the end of the word. “How about actual conversation?”

“Sure.”

“No.”

The two of you having contradictory answers caused your eyes to be pulled into each other. Your face was unmoving as Steve raised his eyebrows at you, confused.

“I’d rather sit in silence,” you muttered, breaking eye contact with him as you leaned your head into your hand. Staring at him while he was focused on something else was one thing, but holding eye contact made you crumble, a slight blush crossing your features. You focused on Robin, shaking your head as she gave you a pleading look.

The blush on your face didn’t go unnoticed by Steve, a suggestive quirk of his eyebrow coming up to cross his face. It was like a switch flipped, the cockiness that surrounded the King Steve rumors coming into play.

“I think that’s a great idea, Rob,” he muttered, voice low as he stared into you. You turned your face towards the coffee table, examining the items abandon on the glass. Your eye twitched at the nickname of your best friend you so often used. You studied the nearly full bottle of vodka surrounded by shot glasses, a deck of cards, and a joint tucked into a clear baggie.

Robin had been optimistic at the night having a positive turn of events.

“I’ll start,” Steve said, turning his entire body so he was facing you. Your bodies mirrored each other, Robin sitting awkwardly in the middle as her eyes flitted between the two of you. “So, Yn… How come I’ve been friends with Robin this long, and have never had the honor of meeting you?”

“Wish I could say the same,” you rolled your eyes, leaning your head on your hand. Your heart was beating heavy behind your chest as you watched this man practically morph into a completely different person.

“Yn…” Robin’s hand came to rest on your knee, squeezing as her voice was a warning to you. Be on your best behavior, you could hear her thoughts.

“Hmm,” he answered, you felt his eyes brushing over your figure. You felt insecure in that moment, focusing on the bottle of vodka as you debated the quickest way to black out in that moment. “I’m just saying, Yn. I’ve heard about you for so long, yet I think this is the first time I’ve even seen you.”

You cut your eyes suddenly to him, your own gaze darkening as his words echoed through the room. You weren’t going to crumble (this time), your mind intent on showing him you weren’t intimidated by him.

At the eye contact, his smirk widened even further. There was a glint of something in his eye, similar to the stories you had heard of the Harrington Charm, or so it was called.

“Funny enough, I’ve heard a lot about you too, Steve,” you replied, huffing as his name left your mouth. “This town can’t stop talking about you. King Steve and how you’re so irresistible.”

The last word in your mouth dripped with venom, squinting your eyes at the suggestive look on his face.

Silence held the next few moments, Robin looking at the ceiling as she muttered words under her breath. It sounded something like a prayer.

“Would you like to find out, Yn?” His voice was low as his eyes bored into you, teeth dragging across his bottom lip as your name escaped his lips. Hair hung into his eyes, head tilted down slightly as he leaned forward an inch. Your breath hitched at the small movement, words at a loss.

Robin shot up from the couch suddenly, arms thrown into the air as she turned around to face the two of you. She shook her shoulders, grimacing at the interaction. “Okay!”

Steve slowly dragged his eyes away from you, smirk disappearing as he glanced up at the brunette. Just like that, King Steve was gone. He settled back into the arm of the couch as his eyebrows were raised to his hairline, lips parted as he stared at your best friend.

“Enough of whatever that was,” Robin tried to blink away the memory, hands resting at her hips. She turned to look at the coffee table behind her, leaning over to grab the abandoned bottle of vodka and the deck of cards. Grimace still present amongst her features, she held them up. “Drinking game, anyone?”

The night continued among the three of you, shots being poured as matching face cards were being thrown onto the table. You were pretty drunk at this point, vision blurring as you leaned into your friend. She was resting her head on top of yours, laughing at something Steve was doing.

He had stuck a card to his forehead, trying to guess which one it was. His eyes were glazed over, slightly hooded with intoxication as him and Robin bickered back and forth about the number of cards there was in deck.

He was losing the debate, set on why Robin was wrong. You had a dopey smile on your face, enjoying the interaction between the two of them. You could see why they got along, energies so different, yet so similar.

“Harrington, you’re so wrong,” Robin laughed, shaking her head as she ripped the card off of his face. A small red mark was left behind, Steve groaning as he rubbed it.

She stood up from the floor, stretching her arms out as she walked away from where you all were surrounding the coffee table.

“I’m starving, Steve, come with me,” she demanded, holding a hand out to help the man up as he complained.

“What about me?” You asked, frowning as you watched him begin to trail her into the kitchen. Your question went unanswered, the two disappearing around the corner.

You sighed to yourself, laying out your body on the floor as the room began to spin in circles. Eyes closing, you held your breath, praying you sober up a little before the end of the night comes upon you.

The look on Steve’s face flashed behind the darkness of your eyes, the sound of your name in his voice echoed in your ears. You felt a small smile creeping on you, only for you to open your eyes suddenly, viscerally shaking the memory out of your mind.

What the fuck, Yn? You questioned yourself, blinking as you looked around the room. Glancing at a clock across the room, you noticed it was half past 1 a.m., way later than you realized. Fuck, my parents are going to kill me.

You glanced towards the direction of the kitchen, head tilting back against the carpet. Robin and Steve’s voices were low, but urgent, causing you to sit up on your elbows.

You strained your ears, trying to focus in on her words.

“-don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Steve!”

“Whaaat?”

Their voices were heavy with the liquor, almost sounding drowsy.

“Stop trying to fuck my friends, Steve. I’m serious.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach, breath getting caught in your chest as you heard Steve laugh loudly at her words.

“Shhh!” You heard a thud, presumably the sound of her hand hitting him, based on the “Ow! What the hell!” that followed.

“Steve…”

Silence followed the conversation, your ears straining to see if the conversation continued, only for you to be met with the sound of footsteps coming your way. You panicked, moving to lay back down on the carpet. You crossed your hands over your chest, breathing fast as you tried to pretend like you hadn’t eavesdropped that entire thing.

Glancing up, you saw Steve swaying over you, hand on his hips as he smiled down at you. The overhead light shone over him, creating a halo around his perfectly styled hair.

You allowed yourself to stare for only a second before rolling your eyes.

“You’re blocking my light, Harrington,” you muttered, turning your head in the opposite direction.

He chuckled, moving so he sat next to you. He sat with his legs pulled close to him, being held together with his arms as they were clasped together.

“Sorry, didn’t realize you were getting a tan,” he was sarcastic in his words, light look on his face. He stared down at you, eyes grazing over your stretched out limbs.

“Why don’t you like me, Yn?” He asked, teeth pulling at the skin on his lip.

You closed your eyes, sighing as he started up that shit again. Did you not just have that conversation earlier that night?

“I quite like you,” his voice was a whisper now, hand coming out to dance at the edge of your own sweater. You pulled your arm away from him, tucking your elbow into your side. “You’re good for Robin.”

Questioning where Robin was, you glanced in the direction of the kitchen. Coming out was muffled sounds of her moving around the refrigerator, glasses clinging into one another. She was muttering to herself, something about pickles dipped in Greek yogurt.

“I think you’d be good for me, too.” The low tone of his voice had you squeezing your legs together, watching as his eyes briefly looked down at the movement. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling the strands back into place.

“Leave me alone, Steve.” You tried to even your voice out as much as possible.

“I know you’re curious,” Steve cocked his head to the side, eyes trailing over your face. “About King Steve and his reign.”

You hacked a laugh, surprised at the boldness he had in this moment. The man’s ego was huge, even if he had the looks to back it.

“His reign? Is that what you want to call it?” Before you knew it, a small smirk of your own toyed at your lips.

“Oh, we can call it whatever you want,” the smile dropped from his lips as that darkened look took over his eyes once more. The amber glow of his irises turned nearly black, eyes narrowing as he stared into yours.

“The only thing I’m curious about,” you felt his fingers brush your clothes ribcage, ignoring the sensation, “is how there’s not a single bad thing to be said about this King Steve.”

His eyes slowly dragged over you, starting at your eyes to your lips to your chest and lingering at the spot between your thighs before returning to meet your gaze. He sucked in his bottom lip, gaze glancing towards the kitchen door as Robin began to make her way out, balancing about seven things between her arms.

She giggled, paying attention to the shaking of the items as she tried to not spill anything.

Steve’s voice dropped to a low whisper, barely audible, “Don’t you know that curiosity killed the cat?”

You gulped, eyes on him as he switched it off, getting up to help Robin as she struggled with the items. You are so fucked.

Ever since that night between the three of you, you had been tagging along with Robin and her newfound friend more. The facade had been dropped, Steve no longer being flirtatious with you as you tried your hardest to ignore him.

He began to treat you the same as Robin, making stupid jokes towards you and letting his nerdy side come out during the interactions. Your hard exterior slightly crumbled away, defenses lowering as you realized that Robin may have been right about him. They weren’t completely gone, just lowered just enough to get to know him.

He wasn’t as much as an asshole as you imagined, he spent most of nights with a bunch of kids anyways. It was surprising, you had muttered some joke about the kids being “a little too young for you, Harrington?” only to earn his disapproval back. It was the most serious he had been since you met him, eyes dropping to the floor as he shook his head. You felt bad, seeing how defensive he had been over these kids he had practically adopted.

After that interaction, you dropped the King Steve stuff, seeing that your perception of him had been completely wrong. You would love to say that a beautiful friendship was blossoming between the two of you, but it was the opposite of that. You still hated him.

Every time you looked at him, you were reminded of his past, his stupid friend group that he used to hang with. Tommy had made the past few years of your life a living hell, torments of your parents separation and alleged affairs circling in the depths of your mind.

You watched him as he sat on the back porch of his house, cigarette hanging between his fingers as he reclined in the lawn chair over looking the pool. Robin sat in the chair next to him, turning the dial of the stereo as she tried to find a station with “goddamn decent music.”

The night sky hung heavy over you, your feet dipped into the pool as you watched the two from your perch on the side of the pool.

Smoke circled around him, lacing in and out of his hair as he looked in the night sky. A single light from the sliding glass door illuminated the back yard. His hair was annoying, perfectly framing his features as he blinked into the stars of the night.

As you took in the view of him and the rest of his backyard, rolling your eyes at the wealth that stood around you. Typical Harrington and his perfect home.

“Okay, fuck this,” Robin sighed, huffing as she shut off the stereo. She rose from the lawn chair, slipping on her shoes that lay beside it. “I’m over this, I’m going to bed.”

She began walking towards the sliding door, ruffling Steve’s hair as she past him. You protested, kicking your foot in the water.

“You’re going home?” You asked, watching as she paused to speak to you.

“Gonna sleep in Steve’s parents room, they’re not home,” she shrugged, yawning as she stretched her arms over her head.

“Never home,” Steve muttered with a shake of his head, thinking it was under his breath as he took a drag of his cigarette. You glanced at him, brow crinkling slightly at his comment.

“Just come up whenever you’re tired, Yn.” Robin turned, muttering a “g’night” as she made her way into the house, sliding the door behind her.

You looked down at your feet, watching the way the water circled at your ankles. Sounds of water swirling and crickets chirping in the stickiness of the night were filling your senses. You almost forgot Harrington was there, the sound of his cigarette burning out in the water interrupting your thoughts.

You looked at him from where he flicked it in the water. He stared at the way the burned bud floated in the water, moving in small circles as it soaked up the water around it. He seemed to be in a trance, eyes unfocused as they squinted around his thoughts.

You turned your eyes towards your feet again, ignoring him. You didn’t care. He was still that same Steve you despised so much.

“You want to sit here?” Steve asked, pulling you from thoughts once more. “Waters gotta be cold.”

“Absolutely not.” You were stubborn, squaring in your shoulders as your defenses picked up. You heard him huff, breath long as he exhaled.

“Why the fuck are you so rude?” He snapped, your head quickly swiveling to look at him. He shook his head as his hand rested at his bent knee, he continued to stare into the water. The half empty cigarette box was being turned over and over in his grasp.

“Easy for you to say, Harrington,” you shot back, anger seething through you as you got out of the pool. Water dripped around your feet as you grabbed your shoes next to you. You began to storm past him, muttering curses at him. “Good fucking night, asshole.”

You stopped at his chair, glaring down at him as he looked at you, eyes shifting up in your direction as his head stayed centered. Warmth flashed over you as you imagined he looked just like The Fallen Angel in this moment, eyes rimmed red as his gaze cut into you.

You ignored the thought, leaning over him as you seethed, “I don’t know what you think this is, Harrington, but we are not friends. We'll never be friends. You made my life a living hell, and I will resent you for that for the rest of my life. These rumors painting you in good light makes me loath you even more.”

Steve scoffed at your words, getting up so he stood in front of you. You bit your tongue as he towered over you, breath heavy as he searched your face, your harsh words lingering in the air.

“I didn’t do anything to you,” he whispered, voice low as your heart thundered. You swore he could hear it as he glanced down your body. "I've been nothing but nice to you."

“Liar.” You shook your head, taking a step back as he took one in your direction.

“Okay,” he nodded his head, lips forming a frown. His hand reached up to pull at his hair, rolling his eyes as they closed with a sigh. He opened them, hand moving to rest at his hip. “Tell me then, what did I do that was so bad for you, Yn.”

“You know.”

He shook his head, not taking that answer. He remained silence.

“You know,” your voice cracked, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

He shook his head again, tilting his head as he examined you. His own eyes blinked rapidly, jumping back and forth between the two of yours.

You sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. All of the anger dissipated, sorrow filling your chest instead.

“You let Tommy torment me, you let him say what he did about me and all of his stupid friends,” your voice was fragile, volume moving up and down as your words came out. “You might not have said anything, but that’s the worst part, Steve. You were a bystander during the worst times of my life, and you didn’t. Do. Anything.”

Your finger punched at his chest with every word, emphasizing your point. Steve looked down at the assault of the digit, grabbing it between his fingers at the last word.

His touch burned your skin, a feeling that felt so wrong, but so right at the same time.

“You’re absolutely right,” Steve agreed with you, fingers holding your hand tightly. “I was—I was terrible. I was a jerk, a coward, if you will.”

Your eyes looked up into his at his words, hearing him out.

“I’m not friends with him anymore. I met Nancy all that time ago, and things changed for me,” he continued, thumb rubbing circles over the skin. Your heartbeat quickened, glancing down at his movement. “I met Robin, and things only got better. That perception you have of me is so different. So, so different than me now.”

He left go of your hand, watching as it dropped to your side. Steve was only inches away from you, the left over tobacco scent mixing with the detergent of his clothes.

A single tear streamed down your face, your hand shooting up to wipe it away. His gaze softened, shaking his head at you.

“It appears King Steve has dropped his crown,” he muttered, earning a small laugh out of you. You dropped your head, stepping back as a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.

Steve’s laugh followed your own, chuckling low as yours picked up. The two of you stood there laughing at each other, an ache in your side forming as you realized the ridiculous situation you were in.

You both quieted down, staring at each other as the moonlight filled the sky above you. The buzzing of the porch light filled the air.

Steve’s eyes were huge in this lighting, his long lashes curled up towards his brows. The small pout of his lips were wet from his tongue darting out, licking at the skin. Moles dotted his skin, cheeks full as joy crossed his features.

You could see him in this light, for who he truly was. That asshole image may have lingered in the back of your mind, but you could see that he was truthful in his speech.

“I may miss him, you know,” you said, looking at your feet as the words came out. “King Steve.”

You glanced up at him, crossing your arms over your chest. His eyes were dark again, mouth pressed into a thin line.

“Oh?” You couldn’t pull the emotion off of his face, a mask placed over it.

You nodded, continuing, “I never got to know him the way most people did.”

Smirking at your words, you turned towards the house and walked up towards the sliding glass door. You didn’t bother looking back at him, opening up the glass as you stepped through muttering a goodnight as you entered the house.

It was dark in there, the only light illuminating was the one hanging over the staircase. The image of the look on Steve’s face burned in your mind, how his dark eyes reflected the moonlight. As you trekked up the stairs on your way to meet Robin, you couldn’t help but think that you took things too far at the end. You’ve hated him all this time, why all of a sudden did you want to mess with his head about the idea of King Steve ?

Reaching the end of the hall, your hand reached for the doorknob, stopping in its place as you heard footsteps running up the stairs, fast in their pace.

Your brow furrowed, turning towards that direction as you watch Steve ascend the stairs, turning the corner to the hall in your direction. He was slightly out of breath, colored in the cheeks.

“You want to?” He blurted out, fast paced with his words. You were confused.

“Huh?”

He was crossing the distance to you, eyes determined on yours. Your hand was still placed on the doorknob, grip loose.

“Harrington, what are you talking ab-”

Your words were cut off as Steve closed the distance, crashing his mouth into yours. His hands came up to rest on the sides of your face as your eyes shot open in surprise at the intrusion. Your hand left the doorknob, resting at his chest to push him away.

“What the hell was that,” you exclaimed, finger digging in his chest. Smiling at you, his hands still present on your cheeks as he tugged at his bottom lip.

He made a shushing motion with his lips, stepping closer to place his mouth on yours again. You didn’t protest, fluttering your eyes shut as his mouth began to move into yours, molding into the perfect shape.

His mouth was soft, tongue darting out to lick between your lips, an urgency as you were pulled into him. One of his hands left your face, finding your waist to press his torso into yours. Huffing, the firmness of his body against yours left you breathless as you leaned up into the kiss.

He pulled away, placing two quick pecks to yours before placing a step back. The absence of his hands on your body left a chill throughout your spine. Eyes glazed over, you blinked at him, tongue running over the feeling of him on your lips.

Steve was smug, hands on his hips as he smiled at you. Your mouth flapped open and close, not finding the words to say to him in that moment. You should be repulsed at him, that was your first thought, but you couldn’t be bothered.

“I-I don’t know what to say.” Your fingers came to brush at your mouth, looking anywhere but him. It was the first time you had been shy around him. You were starting to understand the Harrington Effect.

“You don’t need to,” he rushed, crossing the distance to you one last time to crash his mouth into yours.

He pulled you into him simultaneously pushing you into the wall next to the doors of his parents room. Your body hit it with a full yet loud thud, not caring about waking Robin in the moment.

Your mouth moved in sync with Steve’s, hands coming up to mess up its perfect style and leg curling up to rest at his upper thigh. He moaned into your mouth as his hands gripped your ass, pulling your hips into his.

This is wrong, you found yourself thinking as Steve pulled away to mouth at your neck. He sucked bruises into the delicate skin, fingers digging into your flesh. Your hands roamed free, wildly pulling at his belt his teeth grazed your earlobe.

His bulge ground into the fabric of your jean shorts, leaving you breathless as you fumbled with his buckle.

“S-Steve,” you panted into his hair, arching into his grasp.

You felt the smug fuck smile at your neck, breath sending a chill down your spine. “So needy, baby.”

The nickname had you mewling, panting even further as once of his hands came to help with you the buckle. He freed himself, leather straps hanging at his waist as he unbutton the jeans, pulling the zipper down.

Your hand reached inside, grabbing his heavy cock. You both gasped at the feeling, Steve throwing his head back at the sensation of you tugging at him under his pants. The sounds echoing through the air were filthy—Steve groaning, the wet slickness of your hand on his cock, your dirty words of affirmation flowing out of your mouth.

His hand came to rub at you through your shorts, the thick material making you see stars. Your own head hit the wall, the thud louder than before.

“Shhh baby,” he muttered, pushing them to the side as his fingers brushed over your clothed opening. He smirked at you, low groan escaping his mouth as you were already dripping wet. You huffed, squeezing at the base of his cock in retaliation, feeling the way his hips jutted out.

“C-can’t wake Robin,” he gasped, hips moving rhythmically in sync with your strokes. His head was dripping wet, the inside fabric of his underwear soaking it up.

You felt his fingers prodding at your entrance, the thick jean and thin material of your underwear pushed to the side. They brushed your folds, collecting slick as he applied pressure to the sensitive bud.

“Need you, Steve, fuck,” your face was twisted in pleasure, core throbbing as he continued to tease you. The look on his face let you know he was falling apart at your touch too, brow furrowed as his bottom lip was sucked into his mouth.

He removed himself from you, tucking the exposed part back into his pants. Grabbing your hand, he pulled you down the hall, leading to an open door. He pushed you inside, shutting it behind him as he pushed you down on the bed.

You bounced, half smiling as you rid yourself of your shirt, throwing it across the room. The jeans shorts followed, leaving you exposed in your bra and panties.

Steve stood at the end of the bed, gaze roaming over your figure as that familiar dark look took over his features.

“The things you’re doing to me,” he breathed, crossing his arms at his waist as he pulled his shirt over his head. The sight of his chest, littered with hair at the top, made a rush of heat go straight to your core.

Your eyes followed his hands, watching as they pulled down his jeans, still unbuttoned from the hallway. His boner pushed at the front of his boxers, wet patch present as the material tented.

His eyes followed your eyeline, smirking at you as he saw your legs subconsciously opening wider. Your hand came down to rub between your legs, the panties becoming stickier with each passing moment.

“You want me to show you, baby?” His voice was taunting, leaning over the bed to make his slow crawl over your body. You nodded, eyes big with desire as you felt his heat over you. “Say it.”

“I-I want you t-to show me, Steve,” you moaned, free hand reaching up to grab at his neck. He stopped its movement, hand loose at the wrist as he sucked his teeth.

"Ah ah ah, say it again." His low voice had you falling apart, wetness pooling between your thighs.

"I want you to show me, Steve." Clearer this time, you arched into him spreading your legs so he lay between. He smirked and let go, leaning down to briefly kiss your lips before making his way down your neck.

The urgency you felt in your body contradicted his slow, languid movements. You felt the admiration in his movements, teeth nipping at your skin lightly, his tongue soothing over the marks. He made his way down, kissing over what seemed like every inch of you.

As he spread your legs, he maintained eye contact with you, hair falling into his eyes. His fingers rested at the waistband of your panties, mouth pressing light kisses over your clit. The fabric was thin enough to feel the heat of your breath, and it had you mewling.

"You're so beautiful, Yn," he whispered as he pulled the piece of fabric off of you. Your hand reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes, leaning up on your elbows so you could get sight of him.

His tongue darted out, licking at your clit as you exhaled deeply. Your hips jutted out, trying to feel the full heat of his mouth as his tongue gave you tiny licks, teasing you. Steve's smirk grew, arm resting at your waist to hold you down.

"'M just getting started, my love."

He began to suck at you, tongue dipping in and out of your folds as one of his fingers found your entrance, pushing in. You watched as his eyes fluttered shut, moaning at the taste of you.

It was heaven watching him. Seeing the way his face was pushed into you, fingers moving in and out of you with a fever. They curled inside of you, toying at the bundle of nerves deep in your walls. Clenching around him, your hips began to stutter, the weight of his arm adding a pressure that made your head feel light.

Bliss approached you, slowly then all at once. You swore you blacked out for a moment, vision going white as he licked you through the pleasure. Your breath was fast, chest heaving as that familiar over stimulation worked its way through your thighs.

Steve pulled away, satisfied with your unraveling. He licked the taste of you off of his lips, rising to his knees as he pulled his boxers down. His cock sprung free, dark red at the head as it dripped in desperation.

His hand came to stroke himself, squeezing small drops of precum out of the head.

"Steve," you groaned, hand reaching to grab at him. His hips angled towards your reach, he groaned as you made contact. You gave him short strokes, focusing your attention at the head.

"You wanna give me a little taste, sweetheart?" His sweet words of affirmation had you soaked with anticipation once again, a nod coming in reply. You repositioned yourself, lying on your stomach, propped up on your elbows as you licked at his head.

A low groan escaped him, hand coming to rest at the back of your head. You took him in your mouth, lips stretching over his girth as you opened up for him.

His hand pushed on your head, forcing down some of the length that you felt shy in taking. You sucked at him, looking up at him falling apart with small thrusts of his hips into your mouth. His head was angled to the side, eyes closed as you saw them move behind his lids. His mouth was open, free hand gripping at the roots of his hair.

He looked beautiful in this light, chest glistening as a sheen of sweat covered him. His hand guided your mouth, feeling the suction of your lips over his shaft. The way his hips stuttered into you had you choking, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth.

"M not gonna last, baby," he muttered, removing himself as you looked up at him. Steve glanced down at himself, seeing the way his cock shone with the glistening of your spit.

His eyes rolled, teeth digging into his bottom lip at the sight. You understood the feeling, the both of you being so turned on, it fucking hurt.

"Turn around for me." Rising to your hands and knees, you positioned yourself, arching your back. Blind to his movements, you heard him shuffle behind you, warm hands gripping at your waist that sent a shock to your spine.

His cock nudged at your entrance, a burn coming as he stretched you open. A high moan escaped your lips, hips running from the intrusion. His hands pulled you right back, cock pushing in even further.

"Shh, baby," he whispered, running his hand up your spine to soothe you. "It'll be okay."

You nodded, looking back over your shoulder at him admiring the way you stretched over him. As he pushed in further, the stretch burned even more. The pain was soothed away by the rubbing of his hands and the words of encouragement he gave you.

"'S okay," he muttered, pushing to the hilt. "I'm right here, baby."

Your knuckles were shaking as you gripped the sheets below you. Your eyes fluttered closed, a sigh escaping your lips.

"All right here, baby. I'm not gonna hurt you." His hips reared back before pressing in again, your back arching as pleasure flowed through your body.

"Steve, fuck," you moaned his name, feeling the way he pushed into you over and over, movements slow. He grabbed onto your hips, fucking into you as the sounds of slapping skin echoed through the room.

"You're taking it so good, my love."

His words had you gasping, hips shooting back to meet his movements half way. Seeing the effort you gave him back, his thrusts became faster, fucking into you with a passion.

Steve's words continued praising you, I love to see you falling apart and feels good, baby? and take it, you love my dick so much. You were panting his name, the only word you could focus on.

That pleasure arched up your spine once more, legs shaking with the promise of release. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, falling to the bed as Steve followed you to it. His large stature hung over your body, fucking you through your high.

You couldn't help, but press your face into the mattress, pleasure rippling through you as his movements quickened. You felt him approaching his own high as his words became short, breath raising a pitch.

"F-fuck, Yn," his voice was even an octave higher, face pressing in between your shoulder blades. His thrusts were irregular, slamming into you as the entire bed rocked. "Gon-gonna cum, baby, f-fuck, you did so well."

He released into you, pressing deep as you felt him fill you up. The warmness of his cum made you moan again, the thick liquid threatening to spill out the sides of his cock deep within you.

"Such a good job," he whispered to you before pulling out, collapsing next to you. He lay on his back, hand reaching out to rest at the small of your back.

You turned your head towards him, blinking slow as you took in the mess of the man. His hair was sticking to his face, cheeks red, and wetness around his mouth. He stared back at you, smirk ever present.

"I still hate you, Harrington," you whispered to him, noticing the way your legs felt numb. Sensing the irony in your words, you felt him leak out of you. A grimace crossed your face.

He laughed out loud, winking at you. He leaned to press a kiss to your nose, watching the way it crinkled under his touch.

"I'm sure you do, sweetheart."

You hid your smile in the sheets, rolling your eyes shut. Happiness warmed your body, the lingering effects of your orgasm. A gnawing feeling came to your heart, chest pounding for a different reason. You had fallen for it, the typical Harrington charm. At that moment, you tried not to tell yourself that things may be different, thinking of his words earlier.

He was different than before, however, the thoughts of King Steve still plagued your mind. This couldn't end well, Steve doesn't end well. You opened your eyes, finding him still staring at you.

"You know, I meant what I said, right?" He asked you, seemingly reading your mind. You blinked at him, ready to push that hard exterior forward. "I am different than I was."

Warmth filled your chest, hope bubbling at the surface.

"I don't know if I believe you," you whispered, voice sounding small in the big room. He pressed his lips together, mouth dropping at the corner.

"Let me show you," he replied, hand coming to brush the hair behind your ear. "Let me do that at least."

Hesitation came over you, silence filling the air between you. A few moments passed as he searched your eyes for any sign of emotion. It was like you had an angel and devil on each shoulder, warning you yet jumping for joy at the same time.

You slowly nodded, a sigh escaping your lips. Steve beamed at you, eyes squinting with the smile.

"I swear, Harrington, if you do anything to fuck me over, I will murder you," you shook your head, not believing you'd give him a chance. He leaned over again, pressing another kiss to your lips this time. His smile was contagious, you fought it back.

"Is that a promise?"

masterlist. requests and inbox are open.

[meiieiri]

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.

[tteokdoroki]

ೀ⋆OCT 8TH 2 FAST 2 FURIOUS ━━ yoichi isagi + overstimulation !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. yoichi isagi + overstimulation. if winning a street race means getting ravaged by your ex boyfriend over the hood of your car then… move bitch! get out the way! (5.6K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, characters aged up to 20s, street-racer!au, exes to lovers, toxic relationships, overstimulation, scratching, fingering, sweat kink, pain kink, food play (candy), dry humping, multiple/forced orgasms, oral sex (f!recieving), public sex, possesive sex, unprotected sex, street racer + fem!reader, ex boyfriend + street racer!yoichi isagi.

୨୧ — director’s note. slay! the third kinktober installment is here! i hope you guys like this one, isagi makes me so dizzy...i think he has the bes dirty talk!! enjoy mwah mwah! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

there’s something about street racing that just…gets you off. 

you’ve always enjoyed its thrill, the way having control over the wheel makes you feel when you push yourself to top speeds. adrenaline becomes your new dopamine. like a drug injected straight into your veins — driving makes you feel high. more alive than anything.

the glamourous pink S2K that you drive is your lover, the unpredictable twists and turns of the race course — your best friend. you adore beating men at their own game and looking absolutely fucking stunning at the same time. though, what you love the most, is the thrill of chasing after yoichi isagi.

next to you — your on and off boyfriend, isagi, is probably the best street racer in town. an unpolished gem of untapped potential and a beast of a driver. though with a man like that, competitiveness between you both comes easy — like a third party in your own relationship. its been that way since you met, the two of you falling into the toxic cycle of, racing, winning fucking and breaking up.

and as bad as it sounds, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“you lose tonight, precious,” isagi wipes the grease from his knuckles with a rag as he approaches your car, cocking his head to the side with a smile so twisted it sends a pang of heat from your head to your core. together or not, he’s always had this effect on you — like a fog sweeping over your mind or the oceans waves pulling you under. “and we get back together.” 

“boy, don’t you know i have a race to win?” leaning over the hood of your car, it’s your turn to tilt your head to the side — like a puppy dog, mocking him. your lashes flutter against your cheeks as you peer up at him, the pink of your tongue wrapping around finding a centre point for the bubblegum you’re blowing. it pops on its own. all the while,  a flirtatious confidence seeps from your bones into the night air, luring isagi into your usual game of cat and mouse right before you’re due to race. “i don’t need any distractions, ‘ichi.” 

you can’t help but revel in the way that he shudders upon hearing your name drip from his lips, like the finest and purest form of honey. out of all the girls he’s ever known, you’re the only one who gets him riled up like this without even trying — activating his raw instincts, that carnal desire he always has for you that he keeps locked away whenever you’re not together. 

“baby,” crouching down to your height, isagi smirks as your predatory gaze follows his actions like a vixen in the night. “you know i’d never mess up a race of yours on purpose.” one of his elbows comes up to rest on your hood, the glittery vinyl stickers reflecting against the deep ocean blue in his eyes. your ex lets the weight of his head rest in his palm, a faux pout on his lips as he speaks to you. “how about it, wanna make a bet?” 

you inch closer, close enough for isagi to catch a the whiff of strawberry candy in your breath over the thick sexual tension brewing between you both. “wha’do i get if i win?” you hum slyly, blowing another bubble into the face of your ex lover. 

yoichi mirrors your movements, sliding closer to you so that he lick through your bubblegum, landing a breath’s width away from your sugar-coated and syrupy lips. “you win, ‘n i promise to leave you alone forever.” he rasps, pushing past the lustful tone lodged in his throat. 

standing to your full height, you ruffle his midnight locks with a condescending air about it. “oh baby, you’re so silly.” the superlicious murder slips from between your perfectly glossed lips before you even think to stop it, accompanied by your light laughter. testing your man’s patience has always been your strong suit. 

but before you have a chance to walk away, isagi hooks his fingers through your belt loops and tugs you flush against his tone frame — chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis. “what, you don’t like those terms?” he huffs. “i thought they were perfectly reasonable.

“it’s just that… it’s cute that you think winning me back works that way.” shaking your head, you fail to let isagi have the last word and finally manage to pull yourself from the tendrils of his grip before you become putty in his arms and a mess under his gaze — that twisted mix of annoyance and desire already turning within your stomach, oozing into your nether regions in the form of liquid lust.

“fuck me,” a breathless and playful chuckle resounds in isagi’s throat like a tune base boosted on the stereo, only interrupted by a slick statement that serves to frustrate you even more. “so you’re sayin’ you don’t miss playin’ with my joystick?” he calls out to you while you’re still in eyeshot of his cerulean orbs — the ones that track the sway of your hips as you walk away from him. isagi wants nothing more than to dig his fingertips into the fat at your waist, pull your hips over his hardening cock as blood pulses through it and make you eat those words. 

but he also knows, and from experience, the more pissed off you are — the better you’ll race and the more you’ll want to fuck him later on. 

“i’ll start missing it when you get the right set of tools.” you sing back, sending a wink his way as you hope into the driver's seat of your precious pink baby, shooing off the girls who’d helped you prep your S2K for the race. he watches as you wave to your competitors, buttering them up with your charm before you leave them in the dust. 

and even though he has no right to be jealous — especially when you’re broken up like this, isagi can’t help but want admit to you how seeing you race makes him feel. like now — how you drive right up rin itoshi’s ass and curse at him  to ‘bend over’. everything has sex crazed hormones rushing to his cock and his head gets a little dizzy like he’s been inhaling car fumes and diesel for too long. you fuck him up like no girl ever has before — he’s completely obssesed with you, the ups and downs and fall out of your messy relationship. 

he wants you. feverishly, carnally, and in every way possible and as you pull up in first place after the race — isagi realises, it’s not the race that makes him feel alive.

it’s always going to be you. 

“you’re so fuckin’ frustrating.”

the cash prize isn’t the only good thing about winning your races, it’s the way isagi lives to devour you whole afterwards. 

dark ocean eyes drink in the way your back arches from the hood of your car and it’s cool metal surface — chasing isagi in the heated and humid air, while his hips rock against your cunt almost in tune with the music in the background. the tune of your celebrations. “am i?” you grin, wild and delirious and breathless. “it’s not my fault. thought i told you to quit chasin’ me, yoichi.” 

you giggle, earning a delicious twitch of his dick between your panty-clad folds, spreading a delicious layer of arousal over his clothes. your rival racerpretends to ignore your antics, knowing that he’ll only get riled up and instead focuses on tugging down your flimsy tank top to reveal your sweat shined skin. 

“you could never get rid of me, baby.” you’ve never been immune to the charm of isagi’s hypnotic voice paired with his teasing rows of pearly white teeth that coast over your flesh until goosebumps rise over its expanse. your ex has a way about him, a way that makes it hard for you to shut him out and easier for you to hold your breath and deprive it of the oxygen you need to think clearly. 

to think about escaping this toxicity. 

sloppy kisses to taste the salt on your skin turn to little bite marks, barely there whilst leaving a warm shine to your throat — the temperature proving to be a lustful contrast to the cold metal of your car. he licks and sucks at you possessively, even when other racers pass by and in the back of your mind you briefly recall bachira hollering at the two of you loudly.

just as you reach out to him and wave back, yoichi grabs your wrists in one rough palm and pins them above your head — chuckling into the trail of wet smooches he drags down to your tits, followed by a wild whine that resonates deep in his chest when his cockhead catches on your rock hard clit from behind the many barriers of your clothes. you huff at your newfound restriction. 

a slow, cocky smile spreads over the film of isagi’s lips as if he’s remembered something about your body, that only he knows, in your time apart. how it anticipates and tingles while waiting for his every move, craves to be ravaged and torn apart by him. “focus on me, baby. don’t miss what’s most important to you.” he drawls, gentle notes of condensation slipping into his usually chipper voice. “me.” 

lifting his head from your chest expectantly, being a gentleman and waiting for your consent to kiss. another laugh escapes him when you writhe desperately in yoichi’s grip and wrap your legs around his taut waist to drag him closer for the lip lock you deserve. your prize for being such a winner. he follows your lead, selfishly trapping your lower lip between his teeth before toppling into a hungry kiss — his devious tongue delving it’s way into your mouth to claim it’s every inch possessively. the more you kiss, the more it knocks the lollipop on your mouth about.

all the while, isagi never stops grinding against you — cockhead oozing precum over your cotton decorated pussy lips and budding clit, painting you in the early signs of his arousal. the heat in the air only carries the scent of your sex and mingled notes of diesel fuel — enough to make you dizzy and crave more friction from the street racer as he ruts between your thighs. you’re growing delicious, letting ecstasy trickle through your veins and onto the hood of your car while yoichi drags his cock through your silken slit over and over again until his clothes and his erection are dripping in your sweet juices.

“didnt plan ever plan on… on g-gettin’ rid of ya, pretty boy.” you say through thready breaths, using the strength in your thighs to squeeze isagi close. maybe it’s the adrenaline from your racing high or the fact that isagi cages you in against the car, using his free hand to pinch and pull at sensitive parts of you while he humps at your fluttering and sopping mound — whatever it is, you can feel an orgasm approaching faster than you can register. 

tucking your lollipop into your cheek, you gaze up at isagi with glassy, angel eyes — your mouth open as you pant his praises like a common whore. “did you miss me? i know he did.” then, your eyes shoot down to the rough outline of his dick as it makes you shudder, sex clenching over the veins on his shaft while you practically ride your ex’s precum loaded tip. your dirty talk earns a hearty moan from isagi, his tongue rolling out of his mouth like a dog in rut while he laps at the sweat bearing on your collar bones and neck. “missed my cock so much.” you goad adoringly, a little sick and a little twisted. 

your possession over him fills isagi’s body with concerning amounts of desire and only serves to make him feral — snapping his hips into you faster and harder. his blue eyes drown in an ocean of mirth as they hone in on the light bounce of your chest, his tongue drips in the taste of your light perspiration while he finds his voice over your salacious bump and grind. 

“missed you too baby. missed my fuckin’ pussy,” yoichi grunts selfishly, breathing heavy against your skin and adding to your chorus of shared high pitched moans the closer you get. with one hard thrust, isagi has your unused little hole drooling and your head flying back onto the car’s hood, banging against the metal. the pain only fuels the expanding fire of desire burning bright in your lower tummy — raising the temperature between your bodies. “she’s so sensitive, guess you haven’t fucked anyone while i’ve been gone.” 

his voices oozes condensation, messes with your mind and drags you under the control of your toxic and selfishly possessive ex. it’s like he lives for the the way your thighs quiver around his waist and give all your neediness away, you can’t hide anything from him. he puts your pleasure under a microscope. 

“you’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” isagi grins evilly, letting go of your hands as he watches you tremble and spasm and twitch beneath him. rendered useless against the very car that got you to win your race. 

he’s not wrong, however, for the knot that had been tightening up in your lower tummy begins to unravel too fast for your own liking. an orgasm crashes down on you like a heavy storm that’s escaped isagi’s deep blue eyes and he bucks into you monstrously through it all — hardly giving you a second to breath. your release pours out of you in a clear stream, your eyes disappearing into your skull and your shaky fingers into the roots of your ex’s hair as you tug on it to ground yourself. 

it gets everywhere, seeps through your ex boyfriend’s clothes, splashes against your S2K and gathers in a pool beneath your shaky ass. yoichi coaches you through it with soft, loving praises as if you’d never been broken up. kisses that make your knees knock and breath hitch. you cum so fast, so hard and so soon that your lollipop rolls out from between your swollen spit slicked lips, but isagi is quick to grasp the sugary treat dragging it over your them and down your body. 

he follows it’s sticky trail over your clothes, sucking its flavour from the planes of your skin. the sound of tearing fabric flies under the bustling crowd and revving engines — isagi having ripped off your shorts to expose your temperate, glistening mound to the night air and gleam of car headlights. 

“h-holy shit, ichi! wait—!”

your nails sharply rake at the racer’s scalp in surprise, shocked at the warm-ish sensation of your lollipop pressing against your budding clit as it throbs between the slickness of your folds. “awh, is it sensitive? good.” he tuts down at you menacingly, his voice lowers scratching at the patch of your brain that controls your lustful drive. with the sweet treat still in his grasp, isagi rubs tight circles into your pleasure centre and grind to himself when your thighs instinctively jump apart to give him a better view of the even sweeter dessert between your thighs. 

he knows you. inside and out. 

knows what you even with how on-off your relationship is — as if he’s always been genetically programmed to make you feel good, get you that same high racing gives you. yoichi crouches, no longer standing over you so that he can get a whiff of your scent — the musk of your sex more dizzying than the fumes of gasoline throughout the track. “wanna taste you gorgeous, while you’re still cummin’ for me.” he groans, deep and hungry like he’s been waiting to eat a good fucking meal all day. “that okay?” 

“please…fuckin’ hurry.”  comes your impatient reply, bucking your hips up into the humid air as you chase the friction of the candy against your clit. you feel as though you’re seated right on the edge of another orgasm, inches away from crumbling off of the cliff of euphoria. “you’re so slow,” you heave again, head lolling to the side with your drool oozing onto the hood of your pretty pink car. “see you never learned how to use your…oh—! tools!”

your voice escapes you, shock intertwining with the electrical spark of desire running down the length of your spine to the heartbeat in your pussy. you’re surprised once more when isagi gently nudged the lollipop past your entrance to tease you — ripping it away when you gush like you’re about to cum.

sitting up and resting on your elbows, you glare down into mischievous blue eyes as he pops the candy into his mouth. “mother fucker.” 

“alright, watch it.” the corner of isagi’s lips quirk up into a cocky smirk, enjoying how you writhe against cool metal in contrast to how hot your skin is to the touch. like a furnace, burning from the inside out. 

“you said you wanted to taste me!” you whine, auffovating in the humidity and anticipation. you want him to touch you, but the ghost of kisses he presses along your inner thighs just aren’t enough. 

“i didn’t say i was gonna eat you out though, pretty girl.” isagi whispers, pushing the lollipop into his cheek so he can focus on sucking an array of marks into the swell of your to leave his claim on you. the pointed edge of his teeth sink into the doughy flesh, imprinting a ring of bite marks in place as well. “dunno, don’t think you deserve it.” 

he simply rolls his eyes in response, grunting as he spreads you even further — revealing the webs of cloudy slick that tie your shaky limbs together. yoichi drags a finger through your puffy pussy lips, it’s tip dragging on the silken strings of your arousal until he’s able to circle it over your clenching entrance. 

you let out a defiant whimper, hips rising from your car while a trail of your sweet juices ruin the paint job on your car. “hate you.” comes your weak whisper, trapped in the lodges of your throat while isagi pressed further into your tight little hole and stretches you open. 

“yeah whatever.” he grins lazily, warm breath fanning over your pulsating mound while his nose nudges your sensitive clit. “that’s why you keep coming back to me, precious.” 

the sensation makes your hips buck up, chasing the delicious friction of your ex’s fingertips against your soaked ribbed walls as they ripple around him.  but isagi lives to punish you, make you work for your pleasure or torture you with it for leaving him the dust each and every time. his free hand splays over your navel, pinning you to your own car as a second finger joins the first inside of you — instantly curling to bare down on your spongy g-spot.

the cry that escapes you is raw and powerful, louder than any engine in any model of car — serving to remind isagi of where you are, how on display you are for the hungry eyes of his competitors. he takes this as a chance to remind everyone of who you belong to. no matter how much of a hot shot racer you are, you’ll always belong right underneath yoichi isagi. 

he does nothing to soothe your whimpers and cries, thrusting his fingers deep into your squelching pussy as it echoes into the parking lot in a sweet symphony with your moans. you drool into the seat his palm, thrash on the hood of your car and squeeze down on him with a grip so tight isagi fears that you’ll never let him go. 

“you’re so tense, baby. relax for me,” the man mumbles darkly against your sex. “what’ll make you feel good? should i play with this cute little clit too?” pressing a loving and syrupy kiss to the pleasure nub, isagi moans at your arousal as it pearls on his eager lips. “oh i knew you’d like that. my girl always likes it when her man plays with this messy pussy.” spitting onto your cunt, a sick laugh rumbles in yoichi’s throat as he fucks the frothy mixture back into you, drinking in the way you whine and writhe about the place. all for him. “c’mon, louder baby. let the people hear how pretty you are. how good i’m making you feel.”

saliva coats your tongue, making difficult to breathe between the languid push and pull of isagi’s fingers as they stroke at your insides. he has you ruined, for any other man—  sticky and sloppy between the thighs. the both of you know that only he can get you like this. 

and the sick part about it all, is that you’re fucking enjoying it.

the thrill of being watched by your fellow racers makes you act up, has you crying and moaning a little louder than usual — putting on a show for your ex as you fall back into your toxic routine. those sweet salacious sounds spike higher and higher the closer you get, the more isagi sucks on your clit and scissors his fingers around to press up against sensitive spots along your gummy walls. 

“that’s it pretty girl, give it to me. louder. good girl, good job.” he coos into you oh so condescending, face coated with a crude mix of spit and slick that glistens under the artificial light from the street lamps above. a blistering sense of pride lodges itself in yoichi’s chest when you scream his name, tugging on the roots of his hair once more. “you can do better than that, louder.” 

“ohmygod—! yoichi!” you yelp sheepishly, throwing an arm over your heated face. though it’s not in shame, you can hardly bring yourself to feel embarrassed about gushing on your ex’s face in front of your fellow racers and racing crew. the pleasure he gives you has you too far gone, like a smoke screen over your hazy mind. “g-god i’m… y-yoichi i’m close!”

“yeah?” he laughs breathily, flicking his tongue over your budding clit, pulling the lollipop from the confines of his greedy mouth to slap it against your quivering pussy as well. “you gonna cum?” it’s far too soon, far too much for you to be reaching another orgasm. but there’s been a steady pressure bubbling up just below your navel, tightening and tightening until it threatens to snap. 

you shake your head pathetically, the metal of your car creaking below your hips as you try to run from isagi’s fingers wildly pumping in and out of you. “c-can’t!” 

“can’t? you don’t wanna, hm.” he sucks his teeth, the sound layering softly over the lewd slushy noises echoing from between your thighs. “too bad. i don’t care. cum for me, precious.”

its like your body has a mind of its own, wilfully ignoring the pain of overstimulation as you cum for isagi once more. milky white runs down your ex’s arms in a boiling hot stream, squirting from your abused and used sex. white spots blur the edges of your vision and you shake violently all throughout your second high, the stacks of ecstasy isagi had been building up within you coming crumbling down and leaving you suffocating in your own dust-cloud of lust. 

the rest of your arousal burns a trail down your pudgy thighs like fuel that’s been set on fire, and you can’t even tell what’s up or down anymore. “c-cumming! ‘m…fuck, yoichi.” you scream, chest heaving, head rolling to the side— pressed against your car’s cool surface. “please, i can’t.” 

“already? you were talking so big before your race now look at you. s’all too much… poor baby.” isagi works you through your orgasm, controlling your every twitch and every aftershock until you damn near pass out. 

you’re almost too far gone to register the sound of rustling clothes and the feeling of your rival (and ex) pressing himself over you. but then he’s patting your cheek lovingly, drinking in your sweet and tired expression with big blue eyes full of adoration before slipping his lollipop into your drooling mouth to pacify you. 

“‘ichi…” you bleat, exhausted. 

“yeah, yeah. i know, precious. but i think we can manage one more, yeah?” he asks you softly, a little more tender than before as he kisses your forehead, licking up a bead of sweat that runs down it. no matter how many times you break up, he’ll always be good to you. always check in with you. make you cum as many times as you can manage while still making you see stars. “need to show all those fuckin’ losers who you belong to. need to make you mine again.” 

weakly lifting your head, you notice the slight audience of racers you’ve gathered while letting isagi fuck you publicly. all the men you’ve beaten in races over time, staring at the way your man ravages you like the sight is a cool glass of water. it would be a lie to say that the feeling of being watched didn’t send another spark of lust shooting down your spine. 

“one more?” you question him and pout around the lollipop that tastes like you, big bambi eyes blinking up at your ex boyfriend. 

“one more.” yoichi confirms, pressing his forehead to yours in order to coax a kiss out of you. “don’t worry, you can take it.” there’s reassurance hidden in his lustful tone as he lines his drippy cock up with your ruined entrance (having pulled it out earlier). he pulses to life against you, the blood rushing through his shaft teeming with desire for you. isagi lets you sit up on your elbows so that you can watch him bully his cock past your fluttering entrance. 

isagi’s eyes gloss over with debauchery while you swallow him down, brows creasing in the centre of his forehead when he bottoms out inside of you — both of your mouths hanging open in hot moans. only adding to the humid air. blindly, he fumbled for your pretty throat, squeezing it gently with each clench of your slippery walls around his aching shaft. 

“you won’t break, baby.” he tells you, drawing his hips back from the snugness of your cunt to set a slow roll to his thrusts. the feeling makes you cry out, hoarse and needy before being soothed by isagi’s leaking tip pushing along every pleasure spot he knows by heart inside of you. “try a little harder for me.” 

his words leave you breathless and dumbfounded, every logical thought and smart-ass retort having escaped you while isagi’s milky, bulbous tip churns up your insides. your sexes slot together perfectly, his girthy dick wrapped in gorgeous blue and green veins keeps you nice and full and reaches the spots you couldn’t dare to reach on your own. isagi hands over you, supporting his weight on one hand, with his lips a breath’s width away from your own. 

the both of you are love drunk on the sex-crazed hormones buzzing in the hot air between you — particles of lust smashing together the more your bodies start to sync up and move together. yoichi devours you, takes parts of your body and claims them with his teeth and tongue and hand gently squeezing around your throat. he fucks you with vigour, so hard that your car shakes beneath your ministrations and you nearly lose the candy in your mouth once more. 

you return the favour, clawing up and down isagi’s back while his dark hair tickles your forehead, cascades down to your neck as he kisses you wetly and laps over the salt on your skin. everything about you never fails to pull him back into your toxic cycle. where he loves you, fucks you and breaks you. a satisfied groan takes root in his chest like a sturdy tree at the taste of you, his hips still pumping into you at a rapid pace, painting you with thick layers of opaque white that cling to your swollen pussy lips and clit. 

“you’re mine, f-forever. not gonna let… mhm.. anyone else touch you.” he slurs menacingly into the junction between your neck and shoulder, finally letting go of your throat so he can push your knees into your chest — forcing his heavy cock into your cunt as deep as it can go. “never gonna let you go again, precious. never gonna let you go without my cock this king again. you’re fuckin’ mine.”

“all fuckin’ yours,” you drawl back with a delirious smile, dizzy from the new angle. your pleasure mounts once more but with the addition of a spark of pain from the overstimulation. yoichi knows your limits, he knows how much his precious girl can take but delivers it in the best of ways — sinfully bucking down into you so hard that his heavy breeders balls smack rhythmically against the curve of your ass. he succumbs to the tight grip your iron hot core has on him, begging him to stay and to never leave you ever again. 

you have one another in a choke hold, falling into a synced up and salacious bump and grind against the hood of your car. every time isagi ruts into you, you clench down, gushing on his dick and covering him (and your car) in an early release. 

“that’s right baby,” isagi seethes through gritted teeth, blinded by white and the stars from up above as he gets closer and closer to his high. he can no longer stave it off for the benefit of overstimulating you, strung along by each twinge of pain he feels from your nails forming crescent moons in his shoulders and drawing blood. “say it like you mean it. scream my fuckin’ name for all these people, yeah? you want me. the only man who’ll ever make you feel this good.” 

you will yourself to speak but barely have the chance to with the way isagi fucks you sensless.  you choke on air, following your biological instinct to rut up into him, whilst you’re reminded all the reasons why your rival racerwill always be the only man for you. he fucks you like he’s never loved you, like a stranger he may hate but he moans and mewls against you like you’re the only person he’s ever loved. 

isagi doesn’t care about the racing, or the money or the people watching him ruin your sluice sex over and over again. 

he only cares about you.  

“c’mon baby,” he goads, licking up your cheeky nastily. “you can do it, tell me how much you want me. how much you love me, precious.” each syllable that he purrs out shoots straight to the winding, orgasmic knots in your belly. making them tighten painfully. “god, you’re fuckin’ milking me.” 

so you wrap both arms around isagi’s neck, yank at his hair, rip through the skin on his back with your nails (because you know how much he likes it when you hurt him) and say. “i need you, ‘ichi. y-you’re the only one i’ve ever wanted!” 

and that’s all it takes, to give isagi that last burst of energy to make the both of you really feel it. after one, two, three more thrusts — you’re both sent flying over the edge in unison. “m-‘my precious baby, fuuck, all mine. gonna cum…you better cum for me.”thick waves of viscous white cum floods your puffy folds, whilst yoichi bites down hard on your neck to state his high pitched whines, fucking his seed deeper into you until he calms down. 

you’re in no better condition, squirting so hard that you almost lose your grip on reality. a world of colours flash behind your darling eyes when you cum for the third and final time that night, static ringing in your ears alongside the sweet symphony of your ex boyfriend’s moans and the groaning metal from your car. 

you’re sure the paint has been completely tainted with cum by now.

by the time you finally come to and stop spasming around isagi’s softening cock, he’s peeling your sweaty skin away from your car to coddle you in his chest — shielding you from the hungry eyes of your competitors. “keep your eyes to your fuckin’ selves.” he snarls with teeth bared, despite how gently he holds you. 

“easy there tiger,” you sigh, snuggling against him as exhaustion settles into your fucked out bones. “i think they know who i belong to now.” grabbing at his neck, you pull isagi  down for a sloppy kiss — mewling happily at the taste of sweat, sex and sugar on his tongue before passing him the lollipop once more. “guess the money wasn’t the only thing i won tonight.” 

“you’re kinda sick, you know that?” he laughs in response, but before he can kiss you again — the racing crowd starts to scramble at the sound of police sirens.

still curled into your (ex? oh what the hell) boyfriend, you crack a tired smile. “looks like we gotta split, boy.” 

“you comin’ back with me this time, precious?” a smooch is pressed into your hairline while isagi gathers you into his arms fast — bundling you into the passenger's seat since you’re clearly in no state to play get away driver. he doesn’t bother with your clothes. 

“you know that you can’t get rid of me, baby.” you got the keys into the ignition in time for isagi to slip into the driver’s side — steering you away from the scene of the crime. “i’m yours forever, remember?” 

he only chuckles at that, wild blue eyes reflecting the blue and red cop car lights as he looks to you while speeding away.

“god you drive me crazy, i love you. you fuckin’ maniac.”

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

TW: i have no idea what happened 🧍‍♀️ I'll try to use less vulgar words in next works - I know for some it may be uncomfortable and honestly I don't feel right with myself while doing it too

JAMES KELLY’s hands, stained with grease and calloused from years of hard work, gripped your hips with such strength that sent shivers down your spine. His touch was rough, unapologetic, yet the way his thumbs pressed small circles into your skin had you melting. “Look at you,” he rasped “You’ve been teasin’ me all fuckin’ day, haven’t you?”

Perched on the hood of his car, you could feel the cool metal against your thighs as his eyes raked over you, lingering on the way your dress rode high, exposing more than you’d usually dare. And Maker, the way he looked at you--it wasn’t just hunger; it was starvation.

“I didn’t--” you started, but he silenced you with a smirk, leaning closer until his lips brushed against your ear.

“Didn’t what? Didn’t mean to drive me fuckin’ crazy?” stubble grazing your neck before his teeth nipped at your skin. “Bullshit, baby. You knew exactly what you were doin’.”

His lips moved to yours, crashing against yours. The kiss was messy, desperate--his tongue sliding into your mouth. Your head was spinning at the taste of him, mixed with the faint hint of smoke and engine oil

“Goddamn,” he muttered, voice low, almost a snarl. “You make me lose my fuckin’ mind.”

His hands slid lower, pushing up the hem of your dress until it bunched around your hips. The low, filthy whistle that escaped him when he realized you weren’t wearing panties sent a flush straight to your cheeks.

“No fuckin’ way,” voice dropping an octave. “You walked in here like this? Just waitin’ for me to take you apart?”

“James,” you breathed, squirming under his gaze

“Quiet” he said, but his tone wasn’t harsh. His fingers teased the spot between your thighs, dragging through your slick folds. “You’re so fuckin’ wet, baby. Did you get like this just thinkin’ about me? Thinkin’ about my cock?”

Your breath hitched as he slid one thick finger inside you, curling it just right before pulling out and tracing slow, torturous circles around your clit. “Answer me,” he demanded, his voice a low growl.

“Yes,” you gasped, your hands clutching his arms as he worked you with an expertise that had you seeing stars.

“Good girl,” he muttered, his free hand gripping your thigh, spreading you open wider. “You wanna know what I’ve been thinkin’ about all damn day?”

You nodded, too breathless to form words, and his smirk widened.

“This,” he said, sliding another finger into you, stretching you just enough to make you moan. “This pretty little pussy, all mine to fuck, mine to ruin. And you, baby—so goddamn greedy for it.”

“Please,” you whimpered, your hips bucking against his hand.

“Oh, I’m gonna give it to you,” he promised, pulling his fingers away and bringing them to his lips, licking them clean with a groan. “But you gotta be patient. Let me take my time with you.”

He undid his jeans with a quick motion, freeing his cock and stroking it a few times as he positioned himself at your entrance. The tip teased against your slick heat, and you bit your lip, trying to push yourself onto him.

“Greedy,” he muttered again, shaking his head, but the amusement in his voice was laced with so much need it made your stomach flutter. He slammed into you in one smooth, brutal motion, filling you so completely you cried out.

“Fuck,” he groaned, head dropping to your shoulder as he paused for a moment, letting you adjust. “So tight.. squeezing me as if I were your lifeline”

He didn’t wait long before he started moving, hips snapping against yours with a rhythm that was punishing and perfect. Each thrust sent shockwaves through your body, your hands scrambling for purchase against the hood of the car.

“You hear that?” he rasped, “That’s the sound of me fuckin’ you like you’ve been beggin’ for all day.”

The wet, obscene noises of your bodies moving together filled the air, mingling with your gasps and his low groans. You couldn’t hold back the cries that spilled from your lips as his cock hit that perfect spot inside you over and over again.

“James,” you whimpered, your body arching into him “I’m so close.”

“Damn,” he groaned, pulling out at the last second and spilling himself across your stomach. He was gasping for a moment or two, reaching for the tissue to clean you off, muttering how he doesn't want his favorite girl to get dirty. He began pressing small kisses over your stomach, and you thought he had enough but..it was James Kelly you were talking about, if not, he only began

“Yeah?” he growled, his hand sliding between your bodies to circle your clit with his thumb. “Then come for me, baby. I wanna feel you.”

Dropping to his knees between your legs, he spread you open again, tongue sliding through your folds to lap up everything you’d given him. His stubble scratched against your thighs as his mouth worked you over, his hands gripping your hips like he was afraid you’d disappear, run away.

“You taste so sweet,” voice muffled against your flesh. “Could eat you for hours, baby. Days, even. You’d let me, wouldn’t you? Let me keep you right here, keep you coming on my tongue until you’re too wrecked to even move.”

You couldn’t respond--not with the way his tongue was circling your clit, not with the way his fingers slid back inside you, coaxing another orgasm from you with such devastating precision.

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(let me know if you want to be on the list or be out)

[novemberheart]

Thank you for the support on the last post! Here’s Chapter two!

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 2 -> Chapter 3

{overview} It’s move in day!

{Warnings} Female reader, poly relationship (the gay kind), light pricexghost and Gaz/Soap banter, Ghost already being a bit of a softie

The aggressive grind of the bandsaw covered the sound of approaching footsteps. Yet the tingle behind Simon’s neck was all he needed to know someone was there. He removed his foot from the pedal, shutting the machine off. He slid his safety glasses up to his head as the work shed door clanked open. He needed to grease the hinges.

“How’d it go?” He asked, leaning his back against the worktop. John shrugged, a pleased expression on his face.

“Good.” Price responded, leaning back across from him. “She seems like a good girl. It’ll only be for about a month anyway. And you know how it is, one- if not all of us will get shipped off sometime.” He sighed rubbing a hand over his face. Simon clicked his tongue in agreement.

“The boys like her?”

“I hear wedding bells.” John teased, causing both men to chuckle. “They like her.” He affirmed. “Would’ve been nice if you’d join us.” He continued slowly. John extended his leg so it pressed against Simon’s. A small action to show he meant to harm. Simon pressed further into Price, clearing his throat softly.

“Wouldn’t have mattered. Johnny already seemed hell bent on helpin’ her out, and you know if Johnnys thinkin’ it, Kyle is too.” Simon suddenly stood straight up, bending forward so his palms rested right next to John. “And you can never say ‘no’ to them.” He murmured, his cheek brushing against John’s.

Price let out a strangled gasp-laugh of sorts, his hand flattening against Simon’s chest pushing him away. “I can’t say ‘no’ to them?” He accused. “Tell me, what have you been up to in here?”

“Making another planter box for Kyle.” Simon responded quickly, a playful spark lighting up his eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“I thought there was four of them?” You questioned absentmindedly, adjusting yourself so you sat on your knees. Today was move in day and Kate was helping you pack what little belongings you had. She paused, all her attention on the task at hand- folding one of your t-shirts. She has always been a perfectionist.

“Yeah there is. You haven't met Simon yet. He’s a good guy, just a bit”- she trailed off, refolding another one of your items.

“Shy?” You leant.

“Sure we’ll go with that.” She sighed.

“I thought he was the mean one.” Kate’s wife, Robin interjected from over the phone. Your eyes widened and you turned over your shoulder to look at Kate.

“No I didn’t mean that- I hadn’t even met him when I heard that. He’s not mean, I just didn’t have a word for it at the time.”

“Do you have a word for it now?” You pressed. Robin giggled from over the phone. Kate opened and closed her mouth a few times.

“No- but he’s not as mysterious and complex as he likes to think.” Kate confessed. “My advice would just be to steer clear of him, you’ll only be there for a month anyways.”

“You’re making him sound scary.” Robin whispered harshly. You nodded your head in agreement.

“He won’t do anything to you.” Kate said firmly. There were times when you forgot what Kate did for a living. You forgot the emotional and physical turmoil she goes through on a day to day basis. She was protecting Simon. Her tone shooing off any idea that he was a bad man. You wondered what it would be like to have that type of bond with someone. A bond that is forged out of otherworldly trauma. Yet, you should be grateful you don’t have a tie like that. ‘Well there’s always tomorrow’ you thought to yourself. You shook that idea away. “We should get going. Love you, Honey.” Kate held the phone up to her chin, making a kiss noise into the speaker. Robin blew a raspberry.

“Bye Aunt Ro!” You shouted.

“Bye, lovie! And good luck!”

All in all you had three boxes. You never bothered to put any money into your place, knowing the likely consequences. When you and Kate pulled up to the house, John and Jonny were waiting for you.

“That’s it?” John asked, already opening the car door.

“Yeah. You don’t have to do that. That one’s heavy”- You stopped yourself as he picked up the box with one arm supporting it.

“Nonesense bon. Can’t have the neighbors thinking we aren’t gentlemen.” Johnny grinned also lifting a box like it was full of helium.

“Thank you.” You spoke sincerely. They nodded practically jogging back to the house.

“Don’t bother with things like that. They are pains in the butt- all of them, but they do get a weird satisfaction out of lifting heavy things. And opening jars.” Kate snickered. “Help me with this one?” You and Kate made it to the porch by the time Johnny came bounding back.

“The neighbors!” He scolded. “Let me help you with that box!” He yelled, taking a quick look around like the neighbors would be judging him from their windows. You and Kate both laughed and his face beamed. “You’ve got a pretty smile, bon.” Johnny blurted.

“You too.” It came out before you could stop it. It was the truth- one that you wished you hadn’t admitted. The last thing you needed was a flirting match on your first day. He said nothing, but Kate rolled her eyes at the noticeable pep in his step.

“Here’s this.” She handed you a key card to get into the housing area. “I transferred it to your name, but it’s old and the only one I could find so it might take a few times before it opens the gate. You’ll have access to the pool, gym and the clubhouse area. John said you can borrow one of their keys for the time being.” She gave you a soft smile, before wrapping her arms tightly around your shoulders.

It suddenly dawned on you this was goodbye. She was heading back home and you were going to be here, by yourself. You winced and held her just as tight. “Be a good girl.” She whispered. You nodded your head, thanking her heavily.

“Bye boys!” She yelled through the doorway.

“You’re not staying.” Kyle spoke peering his head from around the corner. It was like the same realization dawned on them. No more Laswell= no more buffer. She shook her head, heading down the porch. You watched her as she hopped into the drivers seat. Her movements were eager. You couldn’t blame her. She missed Robin desperately.

“Everything okay?” You jumped at Kyle’s voice, but quickly threw on a smile. You couldn’t not seem grateful.

“Yeah, just going to be weird not seeing her all the time.” You took a few cautious steps into the house. Even though it would be “yours” for the next month it still felt wrong entering without a direct invitation. Kyle nodded his head in understanding.

“Ready for the rest of the tour?” He smiled, wiggling a brow at you.

Next to the dining room was a bathroom. Next to the bathroom, close to the entryway was a downstairs office, which you were politely asked not to enter. You are more than willing to comply. Past the bathroom and dinning room was the mudroom and back door. These men were active and there was evidence of almost every hobby you could think of. The backyard was breathtaking. Plush outdoor seating (handmade from wood thank you Simon), a fire pit, barbecue, another wood table with chairs for outdoor dinning and last but not least a picture perfect garden. You just wanted to sprawl out in the grass and soak up the sun. You’re sure they would let you. In the far right hand corner there was a medium sized shed, painted black. “That’s Simon’s workshop.” Kyle had explained.

Up the stairs was another “office” type room. But this one was for play- not work. An air hockey table, a projector, the largest bean bags you’ve ever seen in your life, a wall with video games, movies and boardgames.

“Can this be my room?” You pleaded.

“You can come in there whenever you want.” Kyle promised. “Me and Johnny would enjoy the company.” Your stomach fluttered at smoothness of his voice. You wished you could record it for nights you had trouble sleeping. Next to the game room was another bathroom- this time a full one with a nicely sized tub and shower combo. “This’ll be your bathroom.”

It was as carefully decorated as the rest of the house. “You’ll share it with me and Johnny. Don’t worry he’s house trained.”

“Over here is your room.” Kyle presented. “It’s the plainest room in the house, but we rarely have people over.”

It was plain, but there was still a warmth to it. The thing that caught your eyes first was the large window overlooking into your surrounding neighbors backyard. Good thing you love to people watch. Your bed was in the center of the room with a plush white comforter and equally sinkable pillows. The closet was across from the bed with a sliding door. Your boxes were placed neatly in front of the window. “Oh and.” Kyle began. He took a few steps into your room, signaling for you to follow. He shut the door, leaving the two of you alone in your new bedroom.

“Simon installed this. We told him about the break ins- hope that was okay and he took it upon himself to install this bad boy, so you’d feel more comfortable.”

It was a swing lock, one that could only be opened from the inside. A soft gasp left your throat. “That’s so kind.” You whispered.

“Don’t make too big of a deal out of it.” It was a light warning. “He gets flustered easily.” You giggled, trying to suppress the tears building up in your eyes. You wanted to meet Simon now more than ever. Laswell was right- he wasn’t mean in the slightest. Next to your bedroom was another bedroom and across from it was the master bedroom.

“There’s only three rooms?” You hummed. “I’m not stealing someone room am I?” You doubted it with how unused your room look. Kyle shifted on his feet, his hand scratching the back of his neck. Laswell must’ve not given you ‘the talk’.

“Me and Johnny share that room.” Kyle said slowly. “Cap’ and Simon share that one.” He pointed towards the master bedroom.

“Oh!” You chirped. He could tell by your face you still didn’t catch on to what he was hinting at. In your mind they were all so close anyways, why wouldn’t they share a room? He sighed, but felt like it might be better for you to catch on naturally than for him to make it sound like a big deal. I mean it wasn’t like they were going to have an orgy in front of you.

“You hungry? It’s a nice day out. Cap’ usually throws something on the Barbecue.” Kyle offered already turning towards the stairs.

“That would be alright?” You questioned slowly. Kyle’s face softened.

“Course. Besides Johnny needs a new tennis partner.”

“What happened to the old one?”

“He’s a big ol’ cheater. No one wants to play him anymore.”

As promised John was just setting up his area and Johnny was bouncing a tennis ball against the side of the house.

“You play, bon?” It was a simple question, but it felt as if he was persuading you.

“I heard you cheat.” You felt as though you could be playful with him. His eyes scrunched in challenge.

“That’s what he’s been feedin’ you, hmm? Well bon, I have never cheated a day in my life. They just can’t wrap their heads around losing every time. It’s a coping mechanism.” He smirked. John shot a glare over his shoulder and Kyle shook his head quickly.

“Liar and a cheat.” Kyle yelped dodging a neon ball.

“I’ll go easy.” Johnny had turned his attention back to you.

Your hands twisted in your shirt. “Alright.” You sighed.

He did go easy on you. A part of you wondered if he was bored, the ball bouncing back and forth between the two of you at a snails pace. Yet every time you caught his gaze his face would express there was no where else he’d rather be. Well, you’re sure that wasn’t true. He was a people person. He made whoever he was interacting with feel like they were the only person in the world. Kyle had a similar effect. Though his was less assertive. With Johnny you would get attention, but with Kyle held back just enough to where you wanted it. Even now as your eyes carefully watched the ball they couldn’t help but drift over to him, sitting in the lawn chair keeping score.

You missed the ball.

“That was a record.” Kyle boasted, clapping his hands together. “15 passes in a row.”

“What’s the score though?” Johnny insisted.

“I don’t know, mate. 29 love.” Kyle shrugged. Johnny rolled his eyes.

“You won Johnny. Don’t worry.” You soothed.

“Didn’t make it easy, bon.”

He was competitive. You wondered how many fights had to be broken up in the game room.

“Foods just about ready, Johnny go get Simon.” You perked up in your chair.

“Yes sir, yes sir.” Johnny mocked stomped off, back into the house.

“You take cheese on your burger?” John asked. Your stomach had been growling for the past fifteen minutes. You quickly nodded. “We usually have chips but someone ate them as a midnight snack.” John chided placing a large plate of burgers in the center table.

“Simon too.” Kyle muttered, getting up heading back inside the house.

“How do you like your room, honey?” John asked, closing the grill top.

“I love it. It’s like a hotel.” You beamed. John’s lips quirked up into a smile.

“Glad to hear it.”

“Thank you again. You’re doing more than just giving me a place to stay.” You didn’t go into depth, but you could tell by the way his eyes softened that he knew what you meant.

The door slid open. Kyle came out with his arms full of condiments and two bags of potato chips or “crisps” as John called them. Johnny bounded out not soon after with a jug of soda and five cups balancing in his hand.

“Drink soda, Bon?”

“Umm not usually this late. I’m a wimp when it comes to caffeine.” You admitted.

“So what do you drink?” Johnny continued.

“Uh water.” You smiled sheepishly.

“That’s a new concept to him.” Kyle chuckled.

“I’ll go get it.” You took a glass and stood up. “Do you have any filtered? If not tap is fine.”

“There’s a pitcher in the fridge.” John answered. You slid the door open once more heading past the mudroom and slightly down the hall to turn into the kitchen.

You nearly dropped your glass at the large figure leaning against the kitchen island. He wasn’t much bigger than the others, but he looked more out of place.

“Hello.” You greeted. “Simon?” You asked slowly. He was handsome. You wished this group would make a calendar. They’d be sold out in no time. He looked about the same age as John. He had a beard trimmed close to his face, leaving enough of his strong jaw on display. His nose was a bit crooked and bumpy- must come with the job. His hair was honey ginger and cropped. But the thing that caught your attention first, and held it, were his eyes. A deep chestnut color, with absolutely no emotion it made you shudder.

Your name left his lips in a gravel breath.

“Yes.” You responded in an instant. “Just came in to get some water.” You stammered. He fixed his posture so he wasn’t blocking the way to the fridge. You grabbed the pitcher, almost overflowing your cup from the speed of the water. “Thank you for my lock.” You blurted. You peaked at him from over your shoulder. Turning your body to face his felt like too much of a commitment.

“Welcome.” He replied bluntly. “Sorry that happened to you.” He added. He cleared his throat, not turning back as he headed to the backyard.

So far, so good.

Hope you liked this next chapter. I personally believe that Ghost would not wear his mask in his home- or anywhere other than on the field or when he is physically on base. A man walking around town with a skull mask is much more likely to drawn attention- which is the last thing he wants. I also believe that Simon is a ginger 🙊🧡 based off of his two seconds without his mask on. Anywayysss This description isn’t set in stone and you are always welcome to think your own thoughts 🥰

See you next time!

[atarathegreat]

I'm Naked Here. Ken Ryuguji

Draken had been busy for a while. Day after day after day it was like he always had something that he had to do. Visiting his friends, helping Mitsuya, and then there was that whole month that he was gone while Mikey was racing. Now that he was home he was still busy catching up on things that needed fixed around the house, helping Shinichiro at S.S Motors, looking over literally everything else but you.

You were pissed.

Even now he was out in the garage, looking over his own bike with the intent of going for a ride to make sure it was fully fixed. Kenny had been out there all day, covered in grease and sweat while only coming in for water and a small snack.

"Kenny?" You wandered in with a glass of water for him, "How's it coming along?"

"Not great," He grabbed the glass and took a quick sip, "a few things are still broken and I need to replace the seat. The damn leather has been ruined 'cause I can't get out here to take care of her."

There wasn't much you could do but stand next to him as he tinkered. You didn't know much about the motorcycle, much less on how to fix it. What you did know, however, was that Kenny was dense. Here you were, next to him and talking to him, naked as the day you were born.

"Do you think I could show you how to take care of the leather for when I'm gone?" He asked, reaching for a tool before going back to the bike, "Replacing the seat is going to be expensive and I can't keep doing it every time I get home."

"I'll try." You nodded.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

You continued to sit and talk to him, handing him tools and waiting for him to notice you. Usually he was very attentive, so this was a little funny to you. You couldn't help but laugh at the way he wasn't even looking at you.

"What's so- Holy shit..." Ken looked up after gods know how long. His dark eyes trailed all over your body, landing on your chest and hips and-

Kenny stood quickly and nearly slammed you into the work bench behind you, "Fuck...I really have been gone too long if I hadn't noticed this." He rubbed his developing hard on up against your leg, groaning at the feeling of it. "I hope your plan was to get fucked." Draken slipped from the pants he wore and rubbed his tip through your folds, "I'm not-I don't think I can be gentle."

The way you giggled shot straight to his cock, making his tip swell a little more. You knew he wouldn't be gentle, not with his physique and strength, but that didn't bother you. Something about the way he sounded when he had complete control over the situation drove not only him crazy, but you. He was an animalistic man, driven by pure need and primal instinct.

"The hell are you thinkin' anyway? Comin' out here in nothing but your skin?" Draken tapped your clit harshly to make you hiss, "We have neighbors. What if I had the door wide open?"

You shook your head at him, "You close the door at nine pm sharp."

"Smart girl thought ahead, hm? Thinks that makes it better?" Kenny whispered in your ear, fixing the way you were sat on the workbench. Comfortability was his main concern when he made you cream. Location was of little consequence when he could feel your muscles tightening around him in pure, pathetic need. Making you cry was his main goal half of the time, the other three percent was seeing how loud he could make you. "Just wanted my attention, didn't you, ya' little minx." Draken pulled your hair to expose your throat to him, "Reminds me of the ladies that raised me, y'know."

Calloused fingers squeezed your jaw, dark eyes bore into yours, "Think you could survive if I left you in the Red Light District, hm? Would this little cunt make it out without bruising?" His deep laugh made you wet, wetter than you had been, at least. "No, not my baby. You'd be destroyed."

Not that he minded. Hell, he'd never even actually leave you in the store, let alone a dangerous part of town. But those big pupils of yours excited him to no end.

"Tongue out." Kenny released your jaw to spit on your tongue and press his finger to it, "Good girl. Swallow." Having you obey him after coming out to the garage bare ass naked was throwing him through a million plans. Gods, the ways he could bend you fucking backwards for his pleasure and you'd take it... It made his cock throb painfully.

"Deep breath." He whispered in your ear. You'd no sooner breathed in when he stretched you, bottoming out with a light growl in your ear. "Fuck... Definitely too long if you're this tight. Fucking choking me, baby."

The workbench creaked its protest as Draken fucked into you. There would be faint bruising from his thighs hitting the tabletop, but that wasn't his concern. You're cries of pleasure and the way you were breaking through the skin on his arms had all his focus. "That's right. Fucking cling to me." His cock was hitting as deep as your body allowed, "Needy girl... All for me, yeah?"

"Kenny!"

"There ya' go. Scream for me." Draken grabbed your throat, "Let the neighbors hear us. Let 'em know you've got a needy little cunt."

"I said, let 'em know." His fingers tightened around your neck.

You held his wrist as he slammed into you, his tip feeling like it was moving your insides around, "Please, Kenny! Need you!"

Awful, squelching, wet noises drew his attention to where he was bullying you, "Fuck yeah, you do. I can hear her talkin' to me. Pretty little cock sleeve, ain't ya?" Draken moved you from the workbench, bending you over his bike seat. "Goddamn... So fuckin' good for me. Hold tight, baby, I ain't gonna be done with you anytime soon."

[ilovetulips]

steve harrington x fem!reader

steve likes to think he hides his crushes well. well enough for nobody to notice. not robin, not nancy, and especially not you. he takes care with every word that leaves his mouth, concealing his happiness whenever you speak to him.

calm, cool and collected is his motto. everyday he follows this to avoid exposure. he finds having a little crush fun, harmless even. but he didn’t know that you knew. and he didn’t know that you feel the same way.

you walk into the rusting video rental store for your shift, paired with non other than steve this morning. “mornin’ y/n” calm, cool and collected. he makes a mental note to pat himself on the back.

“g’morning steve.” you smile, strolling straight past him and into the back room to clock in. the smell of your shampoo hits steve’s senses ever so slightly and he has to stop his knees from giving out right then and there.

when you return, your vest now atop of your floral blouse, he once again has to regain control of his knees.

calm, cool and collected. the red blush on the tip of his nose that he was completely unaware of was the complete opposite of this statement ‘motto’.

“bet you it’s not gonna be busy today.” the boy says, leaning forward on the counter with his arms. you do the same, only leaning backwards on the small of your back.

“whattcha betting me, harrington?” his head turns back, hair flopping widly before he turns around and copies your posture. bingo.

while he thought he was being the most subtle guy in the world, you had a list of things that made you almost positive steve had a crush on you.

1. he masked your posture. telltale sign.

“heyyyy, steve.” your shift not starting yet, you decided to sit in the small canteen for staff. your legs stretched out and your arms crossed.

“holy— y/n. scared the shit outta me.” he pulled out the chair opposite you on the small table.

“sorry! i got bored so just decided to wait in here.” you apologised. his arms crossed over his chest.

“you’re like some freaky ghost. you’re everywhere.” his legs stretched out infront of him as he spoke. the smirk on your face disguised in a laugh.

2. his feet pointed towards you whenever you sat in a group. always.

“did you just steal my fries?” your shocked face turned towards the culprit next to you.

“dunno what you’re talkin’ about. did anyone see me take her food?” eddie raised his hands in the air, feigning innocence.

“not me!” “i didn’t!” “what food?” your friends chimed in unison.

“you’re all traitors.”

steve smiled at your words. “what’re you smiling at, harrington?” his eyes widened slightly before he responded.

“nothin’.” his smile turned into that of a guilty person’s as he reached down into his lap,

his hand returning with a few fries he happily shovelled into his mouth — a few missing and falling on the floor.

you looked down in shock at your falling fries, their grease coating steve’s shoes. his feet were facing you, which wouldn’t have been odd except for the fact his body was facing a different way and he wasn’t sat directly infront of you.

you made sure to remember that.

3. everytime you weren’t involved in something, he wanted to know absolutely everything about why not.

“hey guys! where’s y/n?” steve stopped in his tracks. you rarely missed group outings, which let his steve-senses tingle at the fact something was clearly wrong.

“mmm i think she’s sick. nance said something like that. i dunno.” eddie was twirling his hair, not really paying attention.

“hm? oh, yeah. said she wasn’t feelin’ good and she couldn’t make it.” nancy chimed in, sipping her drip and sinking into the sofa next to her boyfriend.

steve’s shoulders tensed. “what kinda sick? like throwing up or just a cold?” he sat down, his leg bouncing.

the girl huffs out a laugh at the state of his panic, “she’s fine, steve. just a bit sniffly. calm down.”

calm cool and collected. totally the opposite of what he was right now. shit. was he being obvious?

and of course, nancy phones you to give you a debrief of the night - including steve’s concerns and constant questions throughout the night.

—

“whatcha thinkin’ about?” slow day was an overstatement. you had served one customer in the 2 hours you had been there.

“hm? oh, nothin’.” you replied, words rolling off your tongue yet the blush staining your cheeks said otherwise.

you wouldn’t have paid such close attention to his behaviour if you didn’t like him. of course you were flattered by the revelation, who wouldn’t be?

“okay. who are you thinkin’ about then.”

you whip your head around to meet his eyes. “huh?”

“you’re blushing, y/n.” your eyes widened.

“no.” he laughs at your response.

“yes.” there is that pink blush on the tip of his nose. he leans down to your level.

“steve?” you look up at him. the pink turns to a shade of maroon.

“hm?”

“i know you like me.” the blush spreads across his whole face, and you wouldn’t be exaggerating if you said it spread to his hands too.

“i- no- what—“ he’s a stuttering mess. it’s cute.

“steve.”

“hm?” he gulps.

“i like you too.” you smile sweetly, and he thinks his heart cries out with joy.

[ash5monster01]

Piano Man

Chapter Two - If I Only Had the Words (to Tell You) 🎶

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, mentions of heartbreak, abandonment issues, emotional vulnerability, heart ache, established relationship

Summary: You and Steve have been dating for nearly 6 months, all of which he’s enjoyed. Yet it has been exactly a year since Nancy told him he was bullshit. So even though he desperately wants to tell you he loves you he’s afraid you might say he’s bullshit too.

word count: 2k

One ←→ Three

Masterlist

Fall 1985

But I only have these arms to hold you

It’s a dark Fall night. The house smelling of popcorn you had popped earlier to watch during a movie. Halloween decorations had been plastered all over Steve’s home, a home that hadn’t been decorated for any holiday in a very long time. You had changed that though, changed him. You made not only this home full, but his heart. Which is why Steve lies beside you in his bed absolutely hating himself for not being able to tell you how he feels. How much he loves you, how much you had saved him these last six months.

You had been there for it all. Cheering in the stands when he graduated, taking your lunch break to visit him everyday at Scoops Ahoy, not getting jelous of his newfound friendship with Robin, taking care of him when the monsters returned and the mall burned down, and even helping him and Robin get hired at the video store where you had worked this entire time. Everytime he thought you'd leave, somehow you were still there, and he appreciated you for every bit of it. So why the hell couldn't he say it?

He knew why. He knew because everytime he looked at the plastic Halloween decorations filling his home he was brought right back to Tina's Halloween party. Right back to that very bathroom where the only girl he ever loved looked into his eyes and told him he was bullshit. It had been a year but he still remembered how devastated he was, how his heart felt as she ripped it straight from his chest. The look in her eyes was seared into his memory, devoid of any emotion but distate blazing in them. He couldn't relive that, wouldn't relive that. Especially with you.

He may have loved Nancy but with you it was different. With you, he knew you were going to be the one. The one person handcrafted specifically for him. A soul designed to match his own in a large and lonely world. Somehow he had found you and now he wouldn't do anything to risk it, he would guarantee it. It had hurt when Nancy said she didn't love him but if you did. Well that would kill him.

"What kind of candy do the kids like?" you ask in the dark bedroom, voice overlapping that of Billy Joel's from the cassette player. You're My Home played softly throughout the room and you wished Steve knew that was how you felt about him. That until now you were pretty sure you had nowhere to belong and now you belonged to him.

"Why do you ask?” Steve hums, hands reaching to run through your hair. He lived for nights like this, where you just laid here with legs tangled together and talked about things practically meaningless.

"Well I want to make them happy, I know how much they love Halloween. Dustin hasn't shut up about it all week and I want something to cheer Mike up. I know how badly they wanted to dress up as The Goonies but with Will and El gone they can't" you tell Steve, hand lacing with his own under the covers. Steve smiles softly at you and how much you care for the very kids he had taken under his own wing.

"I don't know what kind of candy they like, I'm sure whatever is fine. As for Mike, tell him we can be Andy and Brand. Maybe I can convince Robin to be Data or something" Steve tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The image of Robin in the Data costume meant for Will makes you giggle and Steve is pulling you closer, chest brushing against your own.

"You'd give up our Grease costume for that?" you ask, knowing how excited he was to be Danny Zuko and wear his leather jacket.

"Yeah but don't tell them that. They'll get big heads" Steve grumbles, practically hearing Dustin tease him about how much he loves all of them. You giggle against him and Steve warms over, feeling those very words sitting heavy on his chest. If only he had the words to tell you. He knew you were waiting, wondering why he hadn't said them. If you only had time to understand why he struggled with it so much. Everyone he ever loved left, if he said these words outloud he couldn't risk you leaving him too.

"You're the best Stevie" you tell him, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his nose. Steve hums in delight, not allowing you to back away as he pulls you to his lips and kisses you quickly. He knows you love him, you only said things like that to replace those very words. If he would just say it your response would have been 'I love you Stevie'. Instead he gets broad statements that he has slowly come to despise.

"Yeah, yeah, best babysitter ever" he mumbles and you giggle because even though he pretends to hate it you know how much he loves it. How much he loves those kids. If he didn't he wouldn't spend time with them. One of those very kids was his ex girlfriend’s brother and he never let any of those things stop him. He was always there for them.

"Only the best can handle six kids at a time" you tell him and Steve searches your eyes, loving how when you look at them they’re filled with adoration instead of hate. He knows not saying anything won't change your feelings and you will carry on loving him without it. He just couldn't bring himself to say it, the urge never there even though he was practically dying inside to tell you. He wished you knew how hard it is to say.

Sometimes when he finds himself even close he feels silly. I love you seemed too simple to portray the love he had for you. It was so basic, a word your heard on the radio over and over again. Every song as simple as the last. How unoriginal were his words when the radio repeats them every single day? Even with his love for Billy Joel he figures he'll never find a song to sing you. One that perfectly depicted exactly how he felt about you. He doesn't want to sing those tired words again, words he wasted on people who never loved him back.

“You ever think about having kids?” Steve asks, leaning back into the pillow and staring at his ceiling. You admire the soft tufts of his hair on his chest, the way his bicep flexes as he reaches to tuck his hand under his head. He’s so handsome and it should scare you that your boyfriend of only six months has suddenly asked you about having kids and yet you don’t seem to mind.

“All the time” you tell him earnestly, snuggling into his side and grazing your fingers along his sternum, grinning when he shivers from your touch.

“I want to have a whole bunch, make me feel better about being an only child” Steve says, his hand pressed to your back slowly sliding up and into your hair.

“What do you mean, make you feel better?” you ask, lifting your head to glance at the boys face as he continues to be deep in thought.

“I was a lonely kid, my parents never really cared to pay any attention and without any siblings or cousins I was left to my own devices. I think it’s half the reason I was such an asshole in high school” he says, almost wincing at the thought of how many people he had treated like shit over the years just to guarantee he wouldn’t be all alone.

“You were protecting yourself” you say, understanding exactly what he means and Steve nods, eyes glancing down at your form.

“I want my kids to have built in friends and even better, present parents” he tells you and suddenly you find yourself wanting nothing more than to have kids with the boy beside you.

“You’ll be the best Dad Steve, I just know it” you tell him and there are those words again, sitting on his tongue and begging to escape but he just can’t seem to let them go. He hates himself for it, looking away before you see the regret in his eyes.

“I hope so, I just wish my Grandpa was still around to see it” he says, thinking of the only person in his life who ever really liked him for him when he was growing up. The man who had heaven sent you straight to him when he needed you the most.

“He is, don’t you worry about that Stevie” you tell him, eyes fluttering close as you listen to cassette playing in the room. The boombox clicked, indicating the start of a new song. Worse Comes to Worst slowly filling the room.

“Oh worse comes to worst. I’ll get along” you start singing the melody into the dark night air, the fall breeze fluttering in from the window and brushing against the curtains.

“I don’t know how, but sometimes - I can be strong” Steve starts singing along with you and suddenly your both giggling into the night, sharing a love for one another and a love for Billy Joel. The very man that had brought you two together.

“Do you ever get sick of listening to him?” Steve asks and you know he’s asking you about Billy Joel. You shake your head softly against his chest, gazing into those hazel eyes.

“No, he reminds me of you. Makes me feel close to you no matter where I am. Yet I suppose that’s exactly how he makes you feel about your Grandpa” you say, voice humming along the boys ribs.

“Yeah but now he reminds me of you too” Steve admits and you smile before leaning up and capturing his lips in your own. When you had approached the sad boy in the record store you never would have imagined it would bring you here.

"I'm gonna try and sleep" you tell the boy, snuggling closer and allowing your heavy eyelids to close. Steve smiles softly and presses another kiss to your forehead. He knows life goes on and tonight will soon be gone. Another missed opportunity to tell you exactly how he feels. His wished he had the words to tell you but instead he only has his arms to hold you, pulling you closer into him. It's really all you can ask of any man, to be held with such love even if he won't say it.

"Goodnight Rosy" he mutters, 'I love you' he says in his head. He knows disappointment swells in your chest, having been by his side for six months and waiting to know exactly how he felt about you. The only noise in the dark room now is the voice of Billy Joel and your soft breathing. He pulls you close, relishing in the feeling of having you in his arms. When he’s sure you’re asleep he tells you.

"I love you Rosy, I really do. Just please don't give up on me, I promise I want to say it. You deserve to know just how much I adore you but every person I've ever loved has left me. I know you won't but I need time for my head to catch up with my heart. Until then, if I only had the words to tell you..."

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