#motorcycle boots for ladies

[adalynnlove]

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[leathercollectionus]

Yellow Motorcycle Boots Miguel Oliviera Winter Test 2022

Miguel Oliviera Yellow Motorcycle Boots are the replicas of those boots worn by him in the MotoGP 2022 Winter Test and have particular features concerning the rider’s foot safety.

Yellow Motorcycle Boots Miguel Oliviera Winter Test 2022

[sirfrogsworth]

sirfrogsworth please i am begging to know your boomer uncle’s thought process when he installed all those spam search bars what on earth was he TRUING to do

This was my Uncle Larry. He died in 2014 from a lifetime of smoking.

But while he was alive, he was what my grandma would refer to as "a character."

I feel like seeing his photo gives a partial explanation of the toolbar fiasco.

He was a man stuck in the 1960s but extremely curious about new things.

It was the early 2000s and I was trying to make some extra money. So when he was interested in getting a computer I offered to build him one from scratch.

What I didn't consider about this arrangement was that I was basically signing up to be my uncle's IT person. If something went wrong, it could possibly be due to a mistake I made.

He called me up complaining he couldn't see his websites and that the computer was running slower than normal.

I boot up his system and it takes 10 minutes to get to Windows. The desktop was filled with random programs he installed. And when I opened his web browser I was immediately greeted with a dozen pop up advertisements. Once I nuked them all, all of the different search toolbars were revealed. There was maybe a few inches of space for viewing websites and he had just been looking at photos a segment at a time for weeks before wondering if maybe it wasn't supposed to work like that.

I asked him why he installed all of this crap and he told me he didn't realize he had a choice. He just thought you had to say yes to everything that popped up on the screen. He also opened every spam email he received.

To make matters even worse, when he was searching for lewd pictures of Catherine Bell (aka the "JAG lady" with nice cans), he ended up on various softcore porn sites containing ever more dangerous pop up ads. And he clicked on all of those as well.

He loved the internet. It was a wonderland for such a curious person. He loved typing in random things and just reading and looking at pictures for hours. Aside from Maxim photos of TV celebrities, his searches were pretty innocent. He looked at old cars he used to own and lawnmowers he wanted to buy. He read old war stories and found websites helping him learn how to whittle walking sticks.

But he had no sense of danger. He had a Leroy Jenkins approach to life. He just sort of jumped into whatever without any fear or caution. Which is probably why my parents were so pissed at him when he offered 8 year-old me a ride on his new motorcycle. He immediately took me off-road and up a steep hill without a helmet or telling me to hold on. And it was a Harley, so not really meant for that terrain.

I tried a virus scan and it just said "You have every virus." So I had to nuke his Windows install from orbit. I then gave him computer lessons, which he paid me for, so that sort of worked out despite how frustrating it was to keep him from clicking on random things.

Uncle Larry taught me an important lesson.

Never tell your family you know about computers.

[genderlessghoul]

I've been wanting to do this post for a while now so here is EVERYTHING I CAN TELL YOU ABOUT THE GHOULS' IMPERA COSTUMES.

Buckle up because I have a LOT to say about those, this is gonna be a very long one.

The costumes were designed by B Åkerlund, a Swedish costume designer who's worked with Ghost since at least Meliora (that's as far back as I was willing to scroll on her Instagram page lol). B Åkerlund has also worked for many other musical artists such as Lady Gaga, Beyoncé, Madonna, the Rolling Stones, Ozzy Osborne, Blink 182 and Hollywood Undead (information from her own website)

The masks were made by Bob Basset, a visual artists who works a lot with leather. I find his work fascinating, you can look him up on Instagram (nsfw warning, there's a few naked ladies).

Fun fact! The horns are real cow horns. That's the reason some of them have gold tips, to hide the imperfections that come with working with actual horns.

He does have a shop where he sells his items, there's a mask there very similar to the Impera ones. You can also buy Papa's batwings if you happen to have 2500$ lying around!

The jackets are made on the same model as one of Papa's. The back is decorated with a spine-like design made from leather and cording. It's adorned with a few of our classic Impera buttons. Some of the hems were left raw and some deliberate weathering was done to make it look old and worn.

Fun fact! The shoulder pieces are not sewn into the garment, I would assume for easier cleaning. I don't know if they're held by strong magnets or snap buttons.

The vest (my beloved 😩) is made from flocked velvet in a paisley pattern, the front hems embellished with satin piping. It closes in the front with custom metal clasps that are riveted into the garment. The D parts are attached with what seems to me like wide elastic, which would lessen the pression on the clasps when moving around a lot. The back is made from two different types of fabric, I'd have to touch it to be able to tell you what they are. I assume the panels closer to the sides have some mild stretch to them. The top of the shoulders are decorated with Impera grucifix patches.

The shirts were not custom made for the ghouls, altho they were altered. The original shirt in the vintage painter linen shirt from Punk Rave and it is still being sold. Some of the cuffs were altered, removing the ruffles for some of the ghouls, but not all. They were removed for Dew, Mountain and Phantom, Aether's didn't have them either. As far as I can tell, all the ghoulettes still have them.

An unfinished piece of linen serves as an ascot, that piece is decorated with a metal devil skull. The colour of the skull doesn't appear to be consistent between each ghoul, Dew's looks gold almost bronze while Phantom's is a silver-like colour.

Another modification is the buttons, a small portion of them were removed in favor of our Impera buttons. Some of the ghouls have more buttons replaced than others, which is still a mystery to me.

The pants are called Jodhpurs, they were invented in the 1800s as horse riding pants. The wide part at the hips and thighs allowing for better movement. The ones the ghouls wear don't reach all the way to their ankles, they stop a bit past the calf muscle, hidden by the boots. (Yes, the ghouls are effectively wearing capri pants)

The boots are motorcycle riding boots, decorated by a grucifix. Like the shirt, they can still be bought online through the All American Boots website, altho the price tag is... Headache inducing to say the least.

The cape is a piece of costume that was only briefly worn on stage by the ghouls, Aurora being the only one who still wears one. I would assume it gets in the way of playing very easily. The cape itself is made of two fabrics, a light blue satin and a dark grey suede. The two pieces are not sewn together at the bottom, they move freely from each other. The cape is attached on the left shoulder with a harness piece that has one strap across the chest, decorated with a metal buckle, and one under the armpit.

Aight that's it for me, have a nice day byyyyye!!

[drabblesandimagines]

Crash

Leon Kennedy x female reader, established relationship

The sidewalk feels cold beneath your thighs as you stare blankly into your lap, your breaths heavy, struggling through a tight chest. You’re sat cross-legged, like a child - the nice, elderly lady had encouraged you to sit down, said you were looking pale. She’d definitely meant for you to take a seat on the bench a few steps away, but you’d just dropped, seemingly forgetting how to get from standing to sitting in any sort of graceful manner.

She’d smiled sympathetically then, offered you some candy from the bottom of her purse – kept a stash in there for her grandchildren - said you needed sugar for the shock. But you’d shook your head, feeling sick at the notion of eating anything. She asked if there was anyone she could call whilst waiting for the first responders.

You’d put your hand in your jacket pocket for your phone at her question – relieved it’s in one piece, not smashed up like the hunk of metal just out of eyeshot. You don’t remember calling Leon’s number, but you must have because now your phone’s up against your ear.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He answers after only four rings, though his voice is hushed - maybe ducked out of the room to answer. “Can I call you back in 20? Just wrapping up something here.”

“I-crashed-the-car.” You blurt out, the words running into one another. It’s not technically true, you were crashed into but this seems easier for now.

“What?” His volume amps way up and your stomach twists with the change, unsure of the implications – is he mad? Upset?

You were borrowing his car. Yours was in the garage, the brake discs needed replaced and would take a couple of days to get the parts in. You’d planned to take city transport but Leon insisted you take his car - arguing it was winter, that it gets dark so early and the idea of you walking to and from the bus stop on your own isn’t one he wants to entertain. You don’t live in a terrible neighbourhood, but you don’t have to be for monsters to be roaming the streets, after all. Plus, it made sense for him to ride his bike to HQ whilst you borrowed his SUV and he wouldn’t have to worry, have one less thing on his plate… ..or so had been the idea. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m so sorry,” you don’t even take in his questions, really. “They came out of nowhere and…“ Your breath hitches in your throat, a sob building up and threatening to overflow.

“Baby,” his tone is firm, “are you hurt?”

You can hear his shoes slapping against the floor as he begins to run, though it sounds too hard a sole for his boots... No, that’s right, he went out in a suit this morning – leather jacket on top, motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm, still made the whole ensemble look good albeit it being mismatched.

“No…” That’s not true - there’s blood, and it has to be yours, but you feel numb of any sort of pain. “I don’t know.“ Your voice cracks again. “That’s okay,” he soothes, barging through a door with his shoulder. “We’ll work it out.” Nearly takes a woman out the other side with how hard the door slams against the wall, mutters half an apology as he darts around her. “Are you still in the car?” You turn to look at Leon’s black SUV laying on its side, the under carriage on full display – not the way a car should be. The driver’s side is against the concrete. You’d climbed out the passenger side, somehow, having to fight gravity itself to get the door to open, clambered up and over the leather seats. Should you have done that, or should you have stayed put? You’d just wanted out from the metal box – the windscreen was a spiderweb of cracks, creaking like it would explode in shards at any moment. “N-no, I’m on the sidewalk.”

“Okay, good. Ambulance on its way?” He’s reached the elevator, mashes the down button like it will make it accelerate to his floor any faster than usual. He feels awful that he’s interrogating you, but his training has kicked in - gather as much intel as possible – and he needs the facts.

“Yeah. Police too.” A few cars had stopped after. Someone said they were calling 911, another saying they got some of the license plate, the old lady and her purse full of candy. The other car drove off, tyres burnt with how fast they fled the scene.

“Good. That’s good, sweetheart. You’re going to be okay. Can you tell me where you are? What street you’re on?”

“Erm…” You look round, but in the shock nothing looks familiar, though it must be a route you’d driven down hundreds of times before. “I was on the way home from work, so, I’m, erm…”

“That’s all right.” He can hear the tightness in your voice, knows you’re not thinking clearly and so he changes tact. “Is anyone nearby that you could ask?” He hits the elevator button again, swears it’s been on floor 12 for far longer than necessary. Come on.

The elderly lady comes back to mind – she must’ve stepped back to give you privacy when you’d pulled your phone out. “There’s someone.”

“Great. Can you ask them where you are?”

“Yeah…” You pull the phone down from your ear, looking around to find she’s not gone far at all, hovering a few metres away. “Excuse me, where are we? Sorry.” The apology slips out, feeling more of a nuisance to her than you’d already been.

“16th Street, dearie.” She smiles, keeps her tone gentle. “Just near Jack’s Groceries.”

The elevator finally arrives – empty - and Leon positions himself between the doors, aware that his reception might drop when he starts to head down to the garage and he can’t leave you on a dial tone.

“Thank you.” You force a smile in return, hold the phone back up to your ear. “16th Street, near the grocery store, Jack’s - it’s the one with those chips you like?”

He smiles at that – it’s not your usual place to shop, but you go there sometimes to pick them up for him ‘just cos’. “I’m on my way, sweetheart. Can you call or text me if you go anywhere else?”

“Y-yeah.” You take another shuddering breath, dig your nails into the palm of your hand. “Thank you. I’m so sorry.”

He steps into the elevator fully, double taps the button for the garage before assaulting another to close the doors. He hopes no-one tries to grab it on the way down, cos he won’t be able to hide his irritation.

“Nothing to apologize for. Everything’s going to be okay. I love you, baby.”

“Love you too.”

“See you soon.”

He hears the beep, signaling the call is cut off and takes a grounding breath, though his foot taps impatiently as the elevator continues to descend. He scrolls down his contacts, thumb poised to dial as soon as the doors open again.

“Leon,” Hunnigan sounds surprised to receive his call, probably cos he’s in the same building as her and usually swung by the office if he was after something. “To wha-“

“I need a car.” He cuts across her, heading over to where the company vehicles are kept. “Any car - I’m in the garage already.”

“Right. Why?” He feels a smidge of relief when he hears her begin to type.

“Please - just give me anything. I don’t care what, I just need to go.”

There’s the clunk of a lock down the line of vehicles, a black estate vehicle’s lights flashing. “Bay C3. Keys in the sun visor as usual. Tell me later.”

“I will. Thank you.”

 --

Leon drives a little faster than he should, but it still feels like hours until he reaches his destination. There’s a couple of cop cars blocking one of the lanes, red and blues flashing, an officer stood diverting traffic around the closure and another manning the perimeter. He pulls up behind the cars and hops out, scanning for you.

There’s an ambulance parked up in the lane and his heart skips a beat when he sees you sat on the steps, a cop on one side, a paramedic waiting behind in the wings. There’s one of those silver foil emergency blankets draped around your shoulders and you look so goddamn small.

He starts to jog over, intent on getting to your side as soon as possible, when the cop manning the perimeter sidesteps in front of him, holding his hands up to get him to stop.

“Sir, I need you to stay ba-“

Leon flashes his ID in his face – it’s not something he likes to do and so he rarely does it, but he doesn’t have time to put on the charm. “Agent Leon Kennedy. That’s my girlfriend over there – I need to get through.”

The cop steps back and Leon feels weirdly grateful for once for the DSO.

As he gets closer, his eyes narrow at the fact that they’re making you blow into a breathalyzer. He clenches his fist then - you’re bleeding and they’re accusing you of drink-driving?! He wants to give them what for, but then he sees the way you’re shaking and knows him storming into the scene ready to blow is not going to help, especially with how apologetic you’d been on the phone.

He forces himself to stop a moment and breathes deeply again. You’re shook up, but you’re in one piece, conscious and that’s the most important thing.

“Thank you, ma’am.” The officer nods, noting down the reading as Leon walks over, catching the tail-end of the conversation. “Nothing to worry about there. I’ll just go update the control room – it won’t be long.”

“Leon,” you stand abruptly at the sight of him as the cop steps off to the side and the foil blanket slips off your shoulders, gauze taped on multiple parts of your arms. You’re trembling. “I’m so sorry.”

“Come here,” Leon wraps his arms around you, coaxing you into his chest. He wants to squeeze tight, to confirm what he’s seen with his eyes, that you’re real and whole, but he doesn’t want to aggravate any injuries so he’s careful, pressing a kiss to your crown. “Don’t apologise, sweetheart. I’m just so glad you’re okay.”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” You’re not, but maybe if you say it to Leon it’ll make it real. There’s a horrible burning sensation in your chest. You want to cry, but not here, not in front of everyone.

“Sorry, ma’am, can I get you to take a seat again?” The paramedic interrupts, emergency blanket back in hand. “I won’t be long, sir. I just need to check a couple more things.”

“No, of course.” He presses another kiss to your forehead and guides you back to the steps, encouraging you to sit and takes the blanket from the paramedic’s hand to drape back over you. “I’ll be right over there, okay? I’m just gonna go have a word with the officer.”

“Okay, yeah.”

He steps aside so the paramedic can move in and waits for the officer to come off the radio, approaching and offering his hand. “Leon Kennedy. I’m her boyfriend.”

“I gathered.” He shakes it. “Officer Jacobs. It was your car she was driving?”

“Mm-hm.” He keeps half an eye on you as he sees the paramedic shine a flashlight in your eyes, getting you to follow his finger. “What happened?”

The cop consults his notepad, flipping through his notes. “A witness stated another SUV-type vehicle went through the red light at some speed. Said it had been driving erratically for a while, so I’m figuring drunk-driver. T-boned, sent your SUV spinning and flipped onto its side after it collided with the lamp-post. The other vehicle stopped for five seconds or so, then gunned it. I’ve got dispatch sending a description out for the highway patrols. Partial registration but it’s gonna have damage, I’m sure, so should be easy to spot if it’s still in transit.”

Leon swallows, taking all the information in.

“How lucky do you think she was?”

“Truthfully,” the cop scratches his day-old stubble, looking between the SUV and you, “I think if she’d been in a different car than that, we’d be having a very different and difficult conversation right now.”

Leon’s fists clench. He’s encountered unspeakable horrors too often in his time, but the idea that some drunken jerk could just get behind the wheel and end your life is more terrifying than anything he’s ever faced. His thoughts swirl down a dangerous drain - wonders if Hunnigan can grab the partial registration from the cops, run it through her software and find the culprit, or trawl the CCTV cameras for a screengrab. He’d show up at their door, or maybe wait for them in the parking lot, revving his own engine, scare them the way they’ve traumatized you and-

“Sir?”

The thought extinguishes as he realizes the cop is offering him a slip of paper.

“Case number. We’ve got her details and we’ll be in touch if we hear anything, but just in case either of you want to follow anything up.”

“Got it.” He nods, taking it and popping it into his wallet. “Thanks.”

--

Leon wants to take you straight home – he’s got a substantial first aid kit there that’ll do the trick on the cuts that need stitching – but, honestly, you need a proper check-up and only the emergency room will do.

You’d required a few stitches from where you’d been caught by the glass from the driver’s window and bruises had started to develop, specially from where the seatbelt had jerked at the impact, but the overall prognosis was positive – you’d be sore for a few weeks, that was for sure, but armed with some painkillers and some rest, you’d be fine.

Leon doesn’t think he’s ever driven quite so carefully the way he drove to and from the emergency room. Not that will help against other assholes on the road, but he’ll be damned if he does anything that means he has to slam on the brakes and give you a fright. You’ve been silent most of the time – silent on the drive, silent in the waiting room, answering the doctor’s questions in a quiet, unsure voice, and then silent again on the drive home. He’d placed a cautious hand on your knee, squeezing it in reassurance, meaning to draw it away but you’d placed your hand on top of it, looping your fingers through his.

He pulls into the parking lot, gives your hand one last squeeze and hops out, dashing around so he can help you out the vehicle. Leon can read you like a book, he knows you’re holding it together until you get inside – you know you are too.

The elevator is mercifully sat on the ground floor when the two of you enter the lobby and Leon keeps you close as you ride up to the 12th floor and the safety of the apartment.

“Can we sit?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Whatever you want.” He sits down on the sofa first and you drop yourself down onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. It’s only a second before you burrow your head under his chin and, with a heaving breath, finally let out a proper sob - releasing everything you’ve held in for the last few hours. You feel stupid, annoyed, frightened, sore, relieved – too many emotions to keep track of.

He wraps his arms around you in turn, pressing a long kiss to your temple, tears burning at his own eyes.

In that moment, it hits Leon in the gut that he doesn’t know what he’d do without you, what he would have done if you hadn’t come home that night. If he’d have to come back to the apartment and not find your shoes kicked off at the door at the end of the long day, the glass with the lipstick smear on the rim near the sink from the water you’d gulp down greedily whilst making dinner.  It’s not like he takes you for granted by any means. He feels lucky every morning when he gets to wake up next to you in bed, and every night when he climbs back in, wrapping his arms around you. He’ll never let the two of you go to sleep or part ways if you’ve had harsh words or a full blown argument as all couples do, not with the risk his line of work brings, the threat that he could be called away in the middle of the night and have to bid goodbye to a turned back.

He rubs his hand gently up and down your back then, tears silently rolling down his face as he takes you all in, relishes your warmth as he cradles you in his lap.

“I’m so sorry.” You hiccup, your sobs eventually ceasing into sniffles, but still you kept your face pressed into his chest, seeking the comfort of his smell – the faint cologne and natural musk that was so uniquely Leon.

“You did nothing wrong, you hear me?” He mumbles into your crown. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Is the car a complete write-off?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” He gently lifts your left hand, presses a kiss across your knuckles. “I love you, baby. So much.”

“Love you too.”  

The day after the next – he negotiated a personal day to spend doting on you, breakfast in bed, cuddles on the sofa, takeaway for dinner – Leon goes out and buys a ring.

--

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

Comments, follows, likes and reblogs make my day!

[pinkmelodie]

The Red Means I Love You ❤︎

Summary: Jason Todd x fem!Reader. You and Jason used to date before you left to stay with the Titans. You both miss each other more than you’d like to admit, but stay out of contact. Fast forward to after he died, you encounter Redhood. Old feeling stir, and before you know it you’re bent over the motorcycle of someone you swore you’d leave in the past.

Warnings: Angst -> smut, 18+, p in v, unprotected s$x, mentions of death & terrorism.

A/N: This takes place right after s3ep2, right after they find out Redhood’s identity :3

You didn’t fully know what was happening; just that there were too many hostages in the building—all who would be killed if not evacuated immediately. You were about to run and help the rest of the titans get everyone as far away as possible before Kory pulled you aside.

You went to protest before she quickly interrupted you, “Go search for Jason.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Uhm, what?”

“Look, I have a feeling he’ll listen to you better than anyone.” she said. “Jasons not someone who can be brought down by force. Shit, he came back from the fucking dead, you think he’s gonna let us beat this new…phase out of him?” 

You wanted to argue, but Kory wasn’t someone who was wrong often. She had a good point, and you knew you had to follow it.

“We’ve got this under control,” she assured, resting a reassuring but firm hand on your shoulder. “Go.”

You were skeptical, especially when you could see Gar in the distance shaking in his boots trying to convince an old lady to let him help her down the steps, and citizens clearly getting whiplash from Connor moving them to safety too fast. Your team was…definitely something, but with some hesitance you finally turned and ran in the direction of the one member you wanted to see.

…

“Jason!” You called out, your voice echoing through the barren alley. Gotham was creepy enough already without walking in some sketchy, busted up route in the pitch dark.

You kept calling but the only response you got was your own voice echoing back to you. You tried to scratch your mind for something to say that could persuade him, but you came up blank. Guilt ate at your conscience when you remembered that you hadn’t spoken to him for months before he died. 

To be honest, Jason never had anyone in his life to begin with. He told you that along with all his other secrets, and you still broke his heart. 

You stayed with the titans, thinking he was being naive for not wanting to. You didn’t think about the fact they never once tried to help him, or ever see him as more than an immature kid. They didn’t have the energy to help Jason through his issues so they just abandoned ship, sending him right back to Bruce and his horrible coping mechanisms.

As much as you wanted to be angry at Dick, or Kory or really anyone else for letting that happen, you had to face that you played your part.

Jason Todd died alone. He died feeling like no one would miss him, like he was a failure of a Robin and a failure of a titan. Because even after everything, all he wanted to do was prove himself.

So, yeah. Admittedly the first words you chose to say were not a good idea. Probably should’ve seen that one coming, but you never were too good at comforting him. was anyone?

“It didn’t have to be like this, you can still come back to the titans!” You tried to coax him, almost immediately regretting it. You quickly shut your mouth, tho the damage was already done. You just prayed he wasn’t here—he didn’t need to be provoked into blowing your brains out. 

Only when your muscles stopped tensing and you thought you got lucky, a voice you couldn’t even recognize rumbled above you. It shot ice up your veins and you would’ve frozen in place if you weren’t so adiment on seeing him again.

“Still taking about the titans? Why am I surprised.” He taunted, tilting his head in a gesture so familiar it made your heart ache. When you spun around you were met with someone you couldn’t believe was really Jason. He was standing on some rusted fire escape, a steel red mask boring right through you. 

You tensed, but not out of fear. No, you could never be scared of Jason, not the same nerd who woke up early to make you breakfast or who secretly wore reading glasses. 

You debated messaging him for months after your breakup, paragraphs on paragraphs you never sent. You had so much to say to him before, so why now did your mind go blank?

It was hard to see what he was feeling with the mask, but you could tell he was expecting a snarky remark back. When you just stood there dumbfounded, he sighed. “Look, I’m done trying to prove myself to them. To Bruce, to everyone! I don’t have to be some fucking nobody y/n, and neither do you.”

Now that made you snap out of whatever trance you were in. “‘and neither do you’? What are you trying to do, advertise me the life of crime?”

He groaned, “I don’t know why I ever tried with you. The titans are just a bunch of fucked up people acting like one big happy family, is that what you wanted? Are you happy you made that choice?” He sneered.

There was malice in his tone, but it wasn’t real. he didn’t feel angry anymore, just betrayed.

He would’ve splayed his heart out for you on a silver platter if you asked, just for you to turn your back on him. You followed him in his dreams, haunted him every time he smelt a familiar perfume, even appeared behind his shut eyelids while the life drained out of him. You were a part of him, and from what he knew you’d never looked back when you stormed out that day.

That’s why it shocked him when tears started to well in your eyes. God, your eyes—the ones he would subconsciously buy clothes of in the same colour. “You could’ve came with me,” you whispered. 

Your meek tone broke something in him. His shoulders relaxed and in a blink he leaped down, knees bending upon landing on the hard ground in front of you. Seeing him like this; the mask concealing his identity, various weapons strapped to his thighs and seemingly more toned than the last time you saw him—you could understand why everyone was on edge.

He stood there motionless, a silent and intimidating presence before you. You both stood there in unbearable silence until finally, he lifted his mask off.

His features were lit beautifully by the dim street light, eyes glinting ever so slightly. He looked exhausted—more troubled now, but you knew, despite everything, this was Jason. Your Jason, not who he was manipulated into.

“No, I couldn’t have.” he muttered begrudgingly, “they made that very clear.”

“So what, you just become a terrorist? Is that your idea of solving your problems?”

His fists clenched in barely concealed anger. “Bruce couldn’t save Gotham, so he abandoned it. I’ll be the one to fix it.” 

“By running around in a new suit and planting bombs everywhere? Real great strategy.” You rolled your eyes, but started to blush when you stared at him too long in the plated suit that fit him perfectly. You quickly caught yourself ogling and looked away, assuming he wouldn’t catch the red tinge on your face. 

You don’t know how you ever thought he wouldn’t notice. Of course he noticed, it’s Jason Todd.

For fucks sake, the guy noticed every detail about you. The way you’d avoid eye contact when nervous, the pace of your blinking quickening when you were lost in thought, the slight heighten of your voice when you were excited about something. All these tiny things and you thought he just wouldn’t notice the way you eyed him down all red in the face?

Come on, you were basically writing your true feelings out to him in big, bold… ..red letters…

and it’s not like Kory ever specified exactly what to do once you found him… .. .

So that’s how you ended up bent against his motorcycle in some busted up alleyway, pussy spread open on his dick.

You gasped and clawed pointlessly at his covered back; nails clinking uselessly against the metal armour of his suit. 

Your own suit was pulled off just enough to get access to your cunt, panties pulled to the side so he could plunge his thick cock into you.

He was groaning more than he used to, and you could swear you even heard him whine. His pace was ruthless, thrusts messy but coordinated. He kept trying to push further inside you, pressing his body as close to you as possible like you would vanish at any moment. 

“Fuckfuckfuck-“ he rambled. Death heightened all of his senses—made things have so much more of an impact on him. Maybe he just missed you too much, or maybe he let himself forget how good you feel.

To be fair, you were far worse off than him. You would’ve alerted everyone in Gotham if he wasn’t covering your mouth with a gloved hand, though it’s not like anyone here would bat an eye to screaming.

“My poor baby just been lonely, s’that it?”He teased, manhandling you by your hips to meet his harsh thrusts. 

“Nobody to fill up this pretty hole like I do, such a shame,” he pouted in faux sympathy, as if he wasn’t balls deep at the moment.

“I’m back now. Fuck the titans, I’ve always treated you better, haven’t I?” He’s fucking your ability to form coherent words right out of your throat, but he knows your answer when you squeeze around him.

“Jay!” you moaned into his palm. Your cunt was squelching embarrassingly loud with each thrust, thighs shaking so hard you for sure would’ve fallen over if he wasn’t holding you up. Every drag of his cock in you hit the perfect spots, just like he remembered you love.

“You don’t even care that I’m red hood, do you?” he asked, his tone full of confidence. “Nah, you don’t. So fucking wet, does my suit get you off princess?” 

He moved his hand to play with your clit, getting it soaked with your fluids. You were too cock-drunk to lie bite back, just nodding desperately and mewling out something akin to a yes.

He smirked. “Pussys sucking me in the same too, fuck- I missed this. I missed you.”

He acted cocky when he was fucking you like this because it’s the only way he was sure you even wanted to be around him. Not much to complain about when his big dick is ravaging you, no?

Deep down he always felt right at home with you. He wouldn’t admit it, but he would give up red hood for you. He’d give up anything for you, actually. Nothing mattered as long as you were with him. And he wasn’t letting you go this time.

With the ministrations on your clit and him pounding into you, it wasn’t a surprise when that knot in your stomach came undone quickly. Especially not with how many failed orgasms you had with your fingers, pretending it was him.

Ever attentive, he noticed immediately. “You gonna come, baby? Try not to get any on the new suit.” He winked, as if you were gonna squirt for him. (You have, many times.)

The cherry on top was when he unexpectedly flipped his mask back down and leaned in to whisper right into your ear with that deep voice, “come for me”

And you were gone. You came with a cry of his name, eyes rolling back and toes curling. Your pussy gushed all over his dick, forming a white ring around it that you could see every time he slammed his hips.

Seeing your pretty face so euphoric was what sent him over the edge, and grudgingly he pulled out, pearly white cum shooting all over your stomach.

You spent a minute regaining your breath while he pressed gentle kisses all over your throat. He only let up when you whined at the slight pain of the pressure on your newly forming hickeys. He tucked himself back into his pants and re-adjusted his belt. You were wondering if he planned on just leaving until he took his coat off and wrapped it around you.

He moved you so you were set down properly on the back of his motorcycle and then stepped on. You instinctively laid against his back, resting your head on his shoulder and he admired you with pure adoration.

“Wrap your arms around me babe,” he hummed, affectionately rubbing your thigh that was pressed to his.

When your brain finally caught up to what was happening you gave him a confused look.“Wha- wait! Where are we going?” 

He looked at you like you were crazy for even questioning it. “Home,” he laughed, “what? Did you think death was gonna do us part, baby?”

[jeonjcngkook]

motor head | jjk (m)

pairing: jungkook x female reader genre(s)&au(s): motorcyclist!jungkook, situationship / friends-with-benefits, angst, smut, pwp rating: 18+ word count: 10.2k+ warning(s)&smut warning(s): they r a little toxic w each other btw ! possessive jaykay n jealous jaykay bcs he literally cant see you around other men !!!! QATAR JAYKAY W LONG CURLY HAIR ALL IN HIS EYES LIKE PRINCE CHARMING 🤤, tattoos !!!! all out !!!!!! — thats a warning on its own :)))) - i may have also given him a giant rib tattoo bcs i hate myself that much 🤭 jaykay rides a motorcycle just in case u havent already guessed 🥲😲, biggest cawk jaykay, dirty talkinnn’, size kink bigger than his muscles !! he uses his motorcycle as a giant sex toy 🤲🏻🫠, clit play while driving, rough kisses, love bites, rough oral sex (m rec), face fucking (f rec), thigh riding & dry humping, vaginal fingering (f rec), anal fingering (f rec), spitting on her face n spitting on her ass, 💦💦, 👉🏻 degradation kink & praise kink 👈🏻, vaginal penetrative sex, unprotected sex, sex on top of a motorbike, multiple orgasms, power play sksksk, jealousy sex (????? ye kinda), orgasm denial(s), creampie. summary: jungkook doesn't like seeing someone else have your attention, so he decides he’s gonna do something about it. beta(s): @jeonspub & @pjmparadise  banner: @kth1 | @kth1fics 

A hand fists into the back of your tank top and pulls you upright from your bent position. Looking behind you, you come eye-to-eye with Jungkook who looks like he reached his final limit with you. Seeing red, he is quick to push the man out from behind you, watching as his body struggles to keep himself standing at the force.

“Jaykay, what’s your fuckin’ problem, man?” The orange haired man you know as Jimin asks. “The little lady is just having some fun, don’t be such a spoil sport,” he jests — clearly loving the agitated reaction he is getting from Jungkook if the snarky grin on his face is anything to go by.

Jimin reaches out for you once more and drags you back towards him. He presses your back into the warmth of his chest, legs parting to accommodate you against him as one of his hands rests on your hip and the other on your thigh. You swallow when something hard presses into your ass and you fidget against it, hearing Jimin moan against your neck.

You watch on as Jungkook’s expression changes from pissed off to full blown rage within a blink of an eye.

Between you and Jungkook, things are complicated to say the absolute least. You have a past behind you as the girlfriend of a neighbouring rival gang that go against Jungkook and the rowdy crowd he hangs with. It started with sneaking around with each other behind your then boyfriends back before you took the plunge and found yourself with Jungkook indefinitely.

But things between you both aren’t as easy as it seems. Yes, you had left your boyfriend for Jungkook, but you and Jungkook had never made it official with each other.

To put it bluntly; you left your relationship with your ex for a situationship with the city’s notorious bad boy. Plainly put, you’re still single.

You laugh lightly as Jimin taunts Jungkook. You aren’t friends with any of these guys, having only met them twice before. You aren’t stupid, you can spot a hot guy when you see one and Jungkook’s so-called best friend Jimin was exactly that.

Like mentioned, you are single after all.

You tilt your head to the side to let Jimin place small kisses on your neck; both of you watching for Jungkook’s reaction. Within the snap of your fingers, Jungkook is ripping you out of the grasp of Jimin and pulling you into his arms. “She’s coming with me.”

Jungkook looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to move in the direction of his motorcycle. His heavy black boots kick the stones from under his feet as he nears his motorised vehicle, leaving space for you to hop on eventually; however, you don’t move.

“Maybe I want to stay with Jimin,” you taunt, knowing just how to push his buttons.

You watch as Jungkook rolls his eyes, pissed off and annoyed at your bothersome behaviour tonight, unsure as to what or why you’ve decided that tonight of all nights you want to wind him up.

“____, you’re testing my fucking patience. Get on the bike.”

Staying still, you keep yourself standing between the two men. You look back towards Jimin, who looks to be enjoying the scene in front of him — Jungkook tends to get what he wants when he wants, so watching you not give him that makes Jimin snicker.

The sound of Jungkook’s motorcycle comes to life as he presses into the throttle lever as far as it possibly goes, a roar of the engine tearing through the cloudy night.

You turn around to find Jungkook with his helmet over his head, leather gloves adorning his fingers as the wheels on his bike move against the gravel.

“W-wait! Jungkook, wait!”

The engine dulls down as you walk towards him. Jungkook passes you over the spare helmet he reserves for you when you ride with him as you easily slide it past your hair.You don’t need to see his face to know that he has the victory smirk on his face. Lifting your leg over the carbon fibre of the bike, you manage to slot yourself between Jungkook and the glass window at the front. 

Once again, Jungkook presses into the throttle and the bike engine rumbles beneath you both as he navigates the vehicle out of the lot, leaving everyone else behind.

It’s been fifteen minutes of silence between you both. Nobody dares to say anything through the intercom. In those fifteen minutes though, you’ve managed to slide into a dangerous position as Jungkook steers you both down narrow streets. The motorbike vibrates at the base just below the seat and you can’t help but feel every single part of it.

You moan out loud into the intercom in your helmet, not trying to hide the pleasure that suddenly rakes through you. Deep vibrations from the hard metallic cylinders below the carbon fibre body rattle your body as Jungkook adjusts your position on the bike.

His palm applies enough pressure to push your body down, watching as your back straightens out as your chin lies against the frame of the motorcycle, giving Jungkook a clear view of the road in front of him. In your new position, you slide yourself back into Jungkook’s crotch, meeting the leather material of Jungkook’s pants and in turn trapping you in between his hard psyche and the body of the machine beneath you.

Jungkook is still in full control of the motorcycle. He presses the throttle and ups the motorbike into a higher gear. Feeling the wind pick up as you zigzag through the highway, watching as the streetlights illuminate the wet asphalt before they threaten to dim into full darkness.

The vibrations between your legs get stronger as Jungkook revs the engine, picking up speed and knowing exactly what reaction he is spurring out of you. You hear a small laugh from Jungkook, and it’s almost torturous, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

From behind you, you can feel his eyes watching you as your legs try to close themselves to alleviate the throbbing in your core but you come up short, having the metal of the motorcycle come in between. You grind your ass further into Jungkook; feeling his cock harden at your movements.

Without thinking, you rub yourself further into the luxury Italian leather of the seat, chasing the vibrations as your pussy overflows with your own lust. You want nothing more right now than to trace your fingers past the hem of your leggings to peel away the lace that is now fully sticking to your folds uncomfortably from your arousal.

“Give me your hand.”

Removing his hand from the handlebars, Jungkook finds your wrist and wraps your fist around the rubber handle. “Press down on the throttle,” he instructs, voice stone cold and laced in confidence. You do as you're told, letting your fingers grip the lever, pressing down until it doesn’t go any further.

Behind you, Jungkook adjusts himself, fighting against your own movements; a deep gritty growl vibrating from his chest, almost mimicking the engine of his Kawasaki Ninja H2R bike. Your eyes widen in surprise when you feel something thick and hard pressing against your ass. Your cheeks warm at the realisation, your lips parting as he purposely pulls you further into him.

Jungkook’s now free hand slithers under your arm and past your clothing to place it on your hip. Your hands begin to gather sweat as he massages the skin almost comfortingly — but you know better… especially after the environment he has just pulled you out of.

“J-Jungkook, isn’t this dangerous?” you stutter nervously as your heart rate picks up. You feel Jungkook sit up a little straighter from behind you, one arm still holding onto the brake lever.

His fingertips run along the band of your leggings teasingly before his fingers dip underneath the cotton band. You can’t help but spread your legs wider on either side of the body, an instinct that has been scorned into your mind. A silent plea for Jungkook to move his hands further down. To cup your wet pussy and slide his fingers inside. To finger fucking you on the highway under the glittering city lights just to eliminate your lustfulness.

Your breath hitches in your throat as your arousal leaks further into your dampened thong.

“Jungkook?”

Ignoring you altogether, you feel three fingers press into the material of your underwear. The motorcycle below you shakes as you struggle to concentrate on the road. Jungkook’s hand finds your clit easily and begins to rub soft and slow circles. He switches the direction of his fingers, leaving you on the edge, never knowing what next he’s going to do.

“Why are you so wet, darling? Was it me or was it Jimin that got you so dirty?” He goads through the intercom — the first thing he has said to you since leaving the parking lot.

At the accusation towards Jimin, your blood runs cold. It definitely wasn’t Jimin but Jungkook had some audacity to even ask when he’s three fingers against your clit.

“We aren’t doing this if you’re going to assume like a dick.”

Your hand finds his wrist as you grab at it, keeping him in place to continue playing with your pussy. You lick your lips as his fingers peel past your thong, sliding them up and down your slit to coat his fingers  in your cum before sinking two of them inside of you, instantly knuckle deep.

Your cunt clenches around his digits  as your mind goes dizzy with desire.

Jungkook pulls his fingers out of you, feeling the heat in between your legs before he inches his fingers back inside. A rhythm of steading thrusting starts, making sure to curl them up when his knuckles meet your clit.

“I don’t think we — shit — we should do this. It’s — fuck — so dangerous.”

Jungkook is still able to navigate you around the city with one hand with your help but as the pleasure and lust courses through you from his fingers, it makes you dizzy, losing your vision on the road slightly.

“Want me to stop, darling?” Jungkook purrs into the built-in microphone.

The way his fingers fuck into you is deliriously fucking good. He knows how to reduce you to nothing but a whimpering mess for him in so many ways. You don’t want him to stop. You never want him to stop.

And Jungkook knows. He always knows. 

It’s like he can read your thoughts and leaves you hanging by a thread as he rips his hands away from your sodden core; pulling you away from any sort of pleasurable burst that was about to wash over your body any minute now.

The gasp that you exhale echoes through both of your bluetooth speakers is ear pinching as you try to come to terms with Jungkook denying you your opportunity to come. It leaves your eyes watering, pussy fluttering against nothing.

“What the fuck was that?” You pant, and a deep growl of dissatisfaction blends into your words spitefully. 

The motorcycle slows down to a stop as it reaches its ending destination. Jungkook removes the keys to the garage from his pocket, clicking the buttons to open the entrance to his workshop.

The sounds of a heavy metal garage door thunders in your ears as you’re driven into the main area of the repair store. You watch as Jungkook’s leaden black leather boot wiggles under the motorcycle against the bottom of the bike to pull the kickstand out to allow it to stand on its own. 

He is the first one to remove himself from the motorcycle, opting to run his hands through his now helmet messed hair. You follow his lead and will yourself to lift your leg over to the other side. It’s difficult to stand with the shake in your body. You’re unsure if it’s the adrenaline coursing through you or the lingering arousal you endured from the heavy vibrations.

Once you’re off the bike, you watch Jungkook off to the other side, pacing back and forth. He looks like he is having an internal battle with himself, so deep in thought that he may as well have forgotten you are there with him.

A distressed pair of leather pants hug tightly at Jungkook’s thighs, perfectly snug against the muscle underneath — all sorts of thoughts running through your mind at just how delicious his legs look in the material. It’s sinful and fucking mouth-watering. 

Made from soft black leather, his jacket has a number of badges stitched securely onto the front and sleeves. With added stripes in sanguine red and olive green, the overall look of the jacket contrasts well against the black leather. To give it a more classic ‘biker look’, Jungkook has gone as far to wax the leather material to create a more vintage, edgy worn out effect.

Jungkook catches you staring at him as he unzips the top coat, revealing a sleeveless navy blue ribbed sweater-like shirt under the classic looking jacket. Throwing the leather over his shoulder, it lands in a heap behind him and you can’t help but watch as it falls heavily on the grimy concrete floor.

But what catches your eye is the arm covered fingers to shoulder in tattoos — not a dribble of skin left untouched, and you feel yourself itching to run your fingers over the words, patterns and shapes. You swallow hard as you watch as he crosses his arms over his chest. Your eyes land centre to his bicep; the colours within the intricate artworks being put to more good use as they show off every single tight muscle in his flexed arm.

With all the effort you are able to conjure, you’re able to rip your attention away from his body, but not fast enough as you look up to see Jungkook smirking.

“What are you playing at?”

Either Jungkook doesn't hear you or he’s heard you perfectly clear and he is doing everything he can to completely ignore you. And judging by the raise of his eyebrow piercing which catches in the night light like stardust and the light scoff that you hear, it’s the latter. Typical Jungkook.

This isn’t something you’re not used to. The push and pull between the both of you is scornful. Filled with aggression and fiery delight. It’s sickening yet all too consuming at the same time. It’s every reason why you find yourself unable to stay away from him, and vice versa.

Your eyes scan around the workbench in the repair store, striking gold as you find a tape measure underneath piles of tools and equipment.

“I’m talking to you,” you throw the measuring tape at his back to grab his attention. Your words are comparable to a snake spitting at its prey — filled with poison and ready to fight. 

Your back is pressed against the adjacent wall, shortly followed by a pair of plush lips pressed against your own. The breath is knocked from your lungs and you’re unsure if it’s from being herded against the wall so abruptly or having Jungkook steal the air from such a bruising and breathtaking kiss. Either way, you hum in venomous delight as you open your mouth to allow his tongue to slither past your teeth and entangle with your own.

With one hand pressed against the wall next to your head and the other holding you still by the waist, you find yourself enjoying every moment of the dominance spilling from the man in front of you.

You reach your hands to his waist to roam underneath his ribbed crewneck style tank top, gripping the material in your hands and pushing it up and over his head. You take in his body. Completely bare for you — another tattoo etched into his beautiful skin. A Japanese traditional dragon. You see the tail starting at his hip as the body is drawn with pristine lines and dotwork all the way up his ribcage.

Wisdom, bravery and strength — traits both the dragon tattoo and Jungkook behold and symbolise. Although, his wisdom seems to vacate the second it comes to you.

You continue to take in the full sight of him. His torso is lean, and his chest and shoulders are broad and incredibly built. You have never seen anybody like him — and you doubt you’ll find anyone like him again. Healed scars, old abrasions, and bruises cover his chest and ribs and your fingertips gently travel upwards until they meet the tender marks.

His skin looks almost soft as the only format of light from the dim lamps and moonlight outside illuminates against his form. A hiss leaves his lips as you run your hands up and down his flesh, watching his eyes close tight. 

“We could have got hurt,” you whisper, the words falling on deaf ears. Jungkook doesn’t want to think about his past battles in war — not right now.

Jungkook manages to slot his leather clad thigh in between your thighs, prying your legs to open wider for him. Your leggings only did so much to conceal your arousal, yet it didn't help that there is a dampened spot in the middle of the fabric;thankfully, he can’t feel it through his own pants, yet.

“You already hurt me, _____.”

You can barely recover from the intrusion of his thigh as you lift your head, looking at Jungkook dead in the eyes as they glare down at you, dark and filled with arousal of his own.

The garage is dark and dingy looking. The smell of oil, gasoline and sweat roaming around the room. It’s somewhat fitting to the man in front of you right now. Yet as his eyes darken and you’re only now taking in your surroundings, a shiver rakes through your body.

Jungkook presses himself further into you with his thigh, watching the way your eyes flutter shut at the feeling, a loud moan you are unable to suppress is loud and clearly heard by you both.

“W-what do you mean?” Like before, Jungkook’s gloved hand finds the waistband of your leggings once more, playfully grabbing at the elastic before taking the material back and letting it snap against your skin gently. With his free hand, he travels up your tummy, the feeling of your soft skin underneath his calloused fingertip brings him a sensation of delight. He brings it further up your body to skin over your clothed tits, squeezing over the lace as he grinds his thigh further into your cunt.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Jungkook’s eyes are stone, piercing through you entirely.

Your nipples harden at his movements, eyes rolling back into the back of your skull as you try your utmost best to keep your breathing steady and under control. It’s increasingly hard to do so when Jungkook flexes his quadriceps, giving you hard muscle to drag your aching, leaking pussy over.

“With Jimin.” His hand withdraws from your body, keeping you in place with his thigh as he straightens himself back to full height, only adding to his dominant aura. It makes you feel small underneath him.

A tear is heard throughout the small room and a chill suddenly finds its way creeping up your body. You look down in horror to find the thin material of your vest has been torn in half right down the middle. Your eyes quickly find Jungkook so you can demand why but before the chance finds itself, leather is skimming the skin of your neck until it finds you by the throat. His fingers squeeze at the sides of your neck just enough to slow down your breathing, a silent warning to not say a word.

“You went against what I told you today, didn’t you?” Jungkook is the first to cut through the silence with a rhetorical question, in his honeyed voice.

You have a habit of talking back to Jungkook, never liking not having the last say in your tiffs. You open your mouth to answer but once more Jungkook is quicker in thinking, knowing you far too well, and adds a little more pressure to the side of your neck. You can’t help but groan in near delight as the light headed feeling begins to crawl up on you ever so slowly but not before you manage to get some words out. “Did I?

Jungkook remains still. His eyes boring straight into your own as if challenging you to talk back to him once more.

Nothing. Silence.

The only sound to be heard is the heavy breathing between the both of you and all you do is let out a snort of laughter, as if this whole time it’s just a game.

“I just wanted to join in with you and the boys,” you say once more through gritted teeth. “It isn’t my fault Jimin fucking likes me, is it?” 

“I don’t think Jimin ‘fucking liking you’ is the issue we have here, sweetheart. Letting him grind his cock against your ass in front of me and my boys is the problem we have.”

It didn’t matter how hard Jungkook’s hand was wrapped around your throat, the laugh that you let out was audible enough to taunt Jungkook. This was dangerous. You are in a small space filled with oils and gasoline tanks that in a single moment threatens to blow up if you keep playing with the fire inside Jungkook.

“You should have been the one to take me out on your bike then, then we wouldn’t be in this situation.” You lower yourself further onto his thigh, using your lower back to rest on the cold wall behind you. With everything in you, you use it to your advantage to keep you in your sitting position, essentially sitting on Jungkook’s thigh as you begin to press down harder, moving your hips back and forth to fuck yourself on him.

“Things may have gotten a little out of hand when he was showing me his bike,” you slide the straps of your bra off of your shoulders to pull the cups down and let your tits spill out. You feel the fingers on your throat loosen lightly, Jungkook’s eyes flickering down as he watches you grope your tits in your hands yourself this time. “He may have bent me over it a little too much and he may have pressed himself against me a little too hard when showing me the paintwork; but when was any of this my problem?” 

No response comes from Jungkook. Instead, his grip on your neck falls completely in turn for slapping your hands out of the way to fist your boobs in his leather fists himself, watching as the skin peeks through the spaces of his fingers. The feeling of air returning to your body spurs you on further, gives you a newfound energy that you use to fuck yourself with. You’re so desperate to come that the pace of you riding his thigh increases, pleasure shoots up your spine and you let out a cry of arousal, your body is so wired it feels like your clit is making direct contact to his cock on every stoke.

In fact, Jungkook does nothing to stop you from chasing your high — what's strange is that he starts to encourage you to use him to get yourself off. He lifts his leg higher and further into you, flexing his thigh as tight as possible as he plants his hands on either side of your waist to help guide you, pushing and pulling you with both hands.

“Jungkook, kiss me,” you plead, voice light.

“No.”

Your eyes snap open at his denial to your request. He has never denied you a kiss before. Jungkook loves making out with you so this is brand new territory for you to be in and you’re unsure if you’re enjoying the answer. You don’t have the option to ask why before you get your answer.

“Don’t deserve it.”

Your eyes become glassy as little tears fill your eyes. Not because of Jungkook’s rejection, well, a little because of that, but because he fucking smirks as he tells you no and continues to pulls you harder into him.

Jungkook leans down towards your mouth and you follow him, leaning in to connect his mouth with yours, thinking he was just playing games with his previous refusal. But at the last possible second, he twists his face away from yours until his lips are grazing against your earlobe, grunts of pleasure and warm breathing warming your skin.

“I fucking love how wet you get for me,” Jungkook croons as he takes your earlobe in between his teeth and grazes it lightly. “I’ll kiss you when you’ve come.”

You jerk your hips erratically against his thigh faster and faster, your climax in fucking sight. “Jungkook, it would have felt so good to have you bending me down on top of the motorcycle instead,” you start, words etching a repetive image in Jungkook’s mind of you and Jimin once again. “To feel your arms around me. Your weight on top of me, your cock hard and heavy against me —, " you moan, continuing to grind against him, watching how Jungkook twitches and swells under the leather of his pants.

This time it’s Jungkook’s turn to groan, trying to angle his body in a way that his cock is beneath you, to have you aide both yourself and Jungkook at the same time, but to his dismay he can’t find it; the material not being too kind in stretching enough for him.

Your breathing becomes stuttered as a string of swear words leaves your lips as your orgasm washes over you. And as promised, Jungkook finds your jaw in his hand and brings your face up to meet his own before crashing his soft cherry red lips against your own.

He kisses you deeply with soft lips and a wet tongue that presses into the seam of your lips, begging for entrance. Your lips part obediently as you glide your tongue against his own. The taste of desperation and lustful desire on the tip of both of your tongues and you can’t help but moan softly, so saccharine sweetly for him.

In between the kiss, you feel a large hand at the back of your neck, fingers tangling into your hair as they tug at the root to pull you away from his mouth. Jungkook’s rougher nature starts to make an appearance and you can’t help but squirm in anticipation of what is to follow. The thoughts of him pinning you down just like you had asked in the midst of your pleasure moments ago swirls in your mind, causing goosebumps to rise on the back of your neck.

“If I had been anywhere near you earlier then I wouldn’t have been able to fucking stop myself from being the one to bend you over, waist down against my own bike just to fuck you hard and rough in plain sight of everyone around us.”

A puddle forms in your mouth at his words; unable to swallow as you picture the image in your mind of Jungkook doing exactly that with a crowd around you. You know he has a vouyeristic nature and a tendency to participate in exhibitionism but knowing he would go as far as too fuck you in front of a group of his friends, strangers to you, sets your body ablaze. 

A fresh wave of arousal pools in your already soaked underwear as you muster up the courage to move around his thigh once more. But unluckily for you, Jungkook removes his thigh from between your legs and gives you a dry humourless laugh as he sees you trying to put the imagery in your mind.

“I can’t believe you’d fucking let me do that. Look at yourself — it’s pathetic.”

“I didn’t say I would let you do that.” Jungkook raises his tattoo arm and lands it on the wall behind him, keeping the other side free, knowing that if you wanted to leave, you would take the exit.

“You didn’t have to say anything. I can read it all over your body. Why else did you end up getting on the back of my motorcycle again tonight? Because it sure as shit wasn’t for a night cruise… not with me.”

You swallow hard as Jungkook bends down again so he’s face to face with you.

“Your mouth is watering for me. Your heart is pounding and I can fucking feel it. And now, the lower I get,” he stops to lick at the ring at the corner of his mouth and your eyes flit down to watch as he does. Watching as his tongue runs along his lower lip, wetting it as he goes before his tongue slithers back into his mouth and protrudes at the corners. “I can feel the desperation clinging to you for me to kiss you right now. Slow. Hard. Passionate. My tongue running down your neck. Taking in the smell of your arousal,” he punctuates his words by letting his palm squeeze at your tit again and sliding his hands down over your bare ribs.

Your eyes flutter shut as your hand firmly grips his wrist. Jungkook stops his movements, waiting for you to stop what’s going on between the two of you. But it never comes. Instead, you tighten your grip on his wrist and begin to slither it towards the elastic of your bottoms once again.

“Then what?” You moan, anticipating his next movement.

It’s clear to see that Jungkook is just as affected by this as you are. The deep movement in his Adams Apple suggesting he is swallowing hard to keep himself under control gives it away.

“Then I’d slid my fingers right under here,” and he does but goes no further than the lace hem of your underwear, “I’d make you come first around my fingers. Then on my tongue. Then on my fucking cock,” he whispers the last part as he presses himself into you, making you feel just how aroused is his. His cock, thick and hard against your pelvis. “Fast, hard, rough sex that you know deep down you’re craving from me right now.”

His fingers stop rubbing against your skin, forcing you to look up to find him with his eyes closed and jaw clenched together. “Too bad I’m not going to be the one to give it to you… Go ask Jimin, he seemed up for it.” The last sentence is said with spite as if the name of his best friend is nothing but searing poison dripping from his own tongue.

Stunned into silence, you roll your eyes. Of course this is still about Jimin. “Fuck you.”

Though his back is turned to you, you watch as Jungkook stops in his stride and opts for twisting his neck from side to side — cracking of his bones heard in the eerie quiet. You can’t see his expression but you know you’ve possibly overstepped the mark but right now, you can’t see anything other than blind vicious venom for the man in front of you.

“What did you say to me?”

Ignoring the warning bells that ring and rattle in your head over and over, you tell yourself you need to do this.

“You heard exactly what I said. You’re so caught up in your own messed up thoughts that you can’t see that I’m standing here right in front of you. I’ve always been right in front of you. You fuck me when you please but then you’re so quick to toss me away the second something so miniscule gets too hard for you to deal with. You pick me up just to throw me away like an old toy a child doesn’t want anymore. I’m not yours to just use and tear apart when you want. You don’t care about those around you enough to think about the repercussions of your shitty actions. So fuck you.”

You toss your head back in relief that you have finally been able to lift the dead weight off of your shoulders. If this is how you and Jungkook will end, then at least you did it with your pride intact standing up for yourself. You let out a deep breath  as you try to zip up your jacket to cover your torn clothes.

With your head down in concentration, you’re unaware that Jungkook has come back and reaches for both your wrists, pinning them against the wall above your head, and he doesn’t look happy. His eyes are narrowed, glaring into you as if he can see through you, burning holes straight into the granite behind you. His jaw is flexed, shut tight, and his nose is scrunched up at the tip — not in the way you’ve come to love, but in a way that carries fear.

“Well if you aren’t mine, then who is it you belong too, huh?”

“That’s not what I mea-.”

Your sentence is cut off as his lips crash against yours hard. His teeth instantly pull on your lower lip to allow himself the satisfaction of tangling his tongue with your own. The kiss is passionate, filled with loathing and untold love for the other. Your eyes shut slowly into the kiss as you fight your wrists out of his hold in favour of wrapping them around his neck and pulling him against you forcefully.

You tug at the roots of Jungkook’s hair, breaking the kiss and watching as saliva connects your lips to his still. Your own body shivers as you take in the state of his hair dishevelled from your tugging and the motions of his chest rising and falling over and over in quick paces from being out of breath with just one kiss.

“Tell me. Who. Do. You. Belong. To?”

One more tug at his hair and you regain your fight. “You have no right to think I belong to you. Not anymore.”

“You like it when I do though, don’t try and fight what you already know to be true,” Jungkook answers, his voice low and gravelly.

Once again, Jungkook’s mouth is back on you with fiery desire. Teeth and tongue clash against each other in the fight for dominance within the kiss. You relinquish, knowing damn well that you would never win anyway, but the fight is part of the fun. He captures your lip back in between his teeth and nips hard enough that a tingling feeling reaches your lips, and you think he’s kissed you hard enough to draw blood. If that’s the case, Jungkook isn’t one bit bothered. Jungkook’s drawn blood before — the lashes and scars on his body are a testament to that.

Jungkook’s mouth detaches from yours and travels across your cheek toward your ear like he did earlier.

“You’re mine, you got that?”

“God, you’re such an asshole,” you spit, looking back at him with hooded eyes. 

Jungkook sucks on your neck just below your ear, knowing exactly how to provoke you. The sweet spot on your body that only he knows. His mouth is greedy and careless as his teeth nibble hard at one spot and then another before his tongue immediately soothes the burn of your flesh. And yet all at the same time, you never want the burn to stop. You want him to keep going — to fully burst into flames and burn you with him.

But it isn’t like he was wrong. It didn’t matter how often you fought it never took away from the fact that you were absolutely, irrevocably his. A truth you cling to, never wanting that to change. And it may be toxic to fight and fix it with a fuck but right now you can’t help but need him right fucking now.

Jungkook just laughs, working one of his hands up to the nape of your neck to grab your hair and pull hard at the roots. You don’t fight back the moan that escapes your lips and instead you welcome the action with a salacious grin, feeling him exhale against your warm flesh.

You can tell he is needy as he furthers himself down to your chest, arms pulling the jacket off of your shoulders, ripped vest along with it. He continues to suck in mouthfuls of your skin, watching as it darkens and then placing more tiny little kisses around the sensitive area.

“I honestly hate you sometimes, Jungkook.”

Every moan, every whimper you release is for him. Moving your head side to side, you give Jungkook an all-access pass to every part of you. You shiver at the thought that the next time you’re with his friends will be when you’re going to be marked up all pretty, teeth marks and love bites littering your neck, chest and skin. Visible proof that Jungkook has claimed you as his.

“Want you on your knees, need to see how badly you wanna be mine.”

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you obey his words as you lower yourself to your knees right before him. With your head at the same height as his hips, you can  see the hard length straining against his right thigh. Jungkook doesn’t waste time undoing the two buttons above his bulge before unzipping his leather pants — the sound of it ringing loudly in your ears and your mouth drools at the thought of what is to come next.

Jungkook pulls the tight leather down to his mid thigh, just enough for you to see his cockhead poking out the seam of his Tom Ford boxers. It’s a bright pretty peach shade, smeared in white slick from the precum that has been gathering since the start of the night.

“You hate me all of a sudden, yeah?” Jungkook asks mockingly, a growl vibrating from his chest.

It doesn’t even matter how often you see his length hard and ready, it always leaves you speechless, wanting nothing more than for him to take the words out of your mouth and replace it with his cock.

Noticing that your eyes are trained on his dick, Jungkook’s hand immediately plunges into the band of his boxers and fishes his cock out for you to admire fully. The pride is written all over his face as your mouth drops open slowly and you lick the corners of your mouth, then the skin of your lower lip. Jungkook bends down at his waist and tilts your head to the side to face you away from him before he spits on your cheek, a loud whimper leaving your lips. Jungkook watches as your head turns back towards him, eyes filled with lust as you feel it drip down your face.

“You want to hate me that much but look at you covered in me,” he degrades as he pulls you towards his cock and smears his spit and precum around the side of your cheek. “You can’t hate me that much sweetheart.” 

You hear him sucking air through his teeth as your hand reaches up to run your fingertips over the protruding veins that run from the flushed, weeping mushroom head down to the base before handling his balls in your palms and giving one tight squeeze. You smile to yourself knowing just how affected he is. Affected by your touch, how it’s you that brings him to a halt. He hisses as your hand wraps around his shaft.

He is long, hard,and sensitive to the touch. Thick from base to tip, deep purple veins are prominent against his skin which decorate his cock so prettily within the wetness of pearly pearlescent cum. Your hand is barely big enough to close around him fully, making Jungkook laugh dryly at your feeble attempt.

However, you’re quick to shut him up as you squeeze his cock a few times, feeling him throb, his body tensing. 

The yellow street lamps continue to stream through the small window and it’s just unfair how a dingy alleyway lamp can compliment him so beautifully. It creates a halo-like backdrop around him, almost teasing you enough to think heaven really lost their most sacred one; only you know that Jungkook is nothing but sin and inevitable danger. He runs a hand through his curly onyx shaded hair, allowing multiple curls to fall into his face and in front of his eyes and you can feel the desperation within you become all too consuming as it swallows you whole.

Taking his length into both of your hands, you feel how heavy it is in your hands, and you ache to feel the weight of it on top of your tongue. The glisten of cum leaking from his slit tempts you enough to unlock your jaw and pull yourself forward towards him. Your mouth wraps around his head the smallest amount, teasingly, eyes staring straight up at Jungkook as your tongue circles his slit for his taste.

You savour the saltiness of his pre-cum, making sure to suck at the slit to paint your wet muscle with more tangy goodness. Starting off slow, you kitten lick the head, coating his cock in saliva to ready yourself for taking him in further.

Your mouth sinks down further, passing his cockhead and taking in some of the delicious thickness of his length. Your lower lip drags over the underside of his cock, massaging the vein with every suck.

“Ah shit, such a good little cockwhore,” Jungkook hisses into the open, steadying himself with one hand on the wall behind you.

Looking up at him with lust behind your lashes, you keep eye contact with him as your mouth slowly makes its way further down on him and Jungkook closes his eyes and inhales a long deep sigh and lets it out through his nose as he groans. “Yeah, looks like you fucking love me or is just my cock down your throat you’re falling for?”

Jungkook’s words are accompanied by a tender hand to the cheek where the mixture of spit and cum has dried up. His thumb caressing you back and forward. You close your eyes and focus on taking him deeper into your mouth. Your willpower takes hold of you as you sink further down until you feel your nose touch the small hairs at the lowest part of his tummy where his pubic hair rests.

Moans fall around his cock as you feel your own arousal pooling in your centre, wettening your inner thighs as you squeeze them tightly to ease the thrumming inside your pussy. One of your hands falls to his balls, cupping them and gently massaging them. The hand that isn’t currently holding his body weight finds the roots of your hair once more and tugs it hard at the sensation.

“Lean back honey and let me fuck your mouth.”

Jungkook’s cock falls from your mouth, leaving your lips connected to his cockhead by three thick slivers of spit cum mix. Your knees ache now and your throat burns but you know that you will do anything to please Jungkook so you decide to sit back on your bottom and rest your head against the cold wall as Jungkook’s thighs move either side of you.

With you now pinned up against the wall, you open your mouth once again and let Jungkook press forward, enveloping his whole cock inside your mouth. Your eyes squeeze tight as you start to gag around him. The sounds of you struggling to accommodate his thickness spurs Jungkook on further as he starts to piston himself in and out of your mouth over and over before halting his movements and holding himself at the back of your throat. Mascara from your lashes starts to puddle under your eyes as you struggle to breath past the thickness stuffed in your mouth.

“Relax your mouth, honey,” Jungkook croaks out, too lost in his own pleasure.

Doing as you’re told, you manage to relax further which gives Jungkook enough room to push past the tightness of your throat to fuck further into the tight tunnel.

“Shit, such a good girl. You’re so wet around my cock; oh f-fuck baby, take it, d-deeper.” The words of encouragement made you smile the best you can, even with a mouth filled with cock. He pulls out once more and your body gasps for as much air as you possibly can before he is back inside you.

Your gag reflex plays up every so often as Jungkook fucks into you like it’s the last time he’s ever going to see you. Focusing on your breathing helps aid the intrusion as he keeps up the hard rhythm he has his hips going in.

Feeling his hips stutter, you know he’s close. You moan loudly around his dick, the vibrations coating his shaft as he lets out the loudest moan he has of the night. You swallow around his cock, making sure to hollow out your cheeks the best you can, wanting nothing more than to see the man you love come completely undone, spilling his love for you into your awaiting tongue.

But it’s like he can read your mind as he removes himself from your mouth, watching as your eyes widen in confusion.

“Wha-why didn’t you come?” You ask, your voice hoarse.

Leaning down, Jungkook pulls you back to your feet and then lifts you into his embrace, his hands under your ass to keep you steady as you wrap your own arms around his neck and legs around his tiny waist to secure yourself. Jungkook presses you against the wall and leans in to kiss you again. It’s not gentle but it isn’t as rough as his last few kisses have been. His tongue is still insistent but you allow him to meet your own tongue with no hesitation. You feel his dick twitch against your inner thigh.

“If I'm going to come, then it’ll be inside your pussy.”

You whimper at his promise and kiss him hard on the lips again as he walks you both away from the wall. You’re lowered back onto your feet, Jungkook taking a hold of each of your shoulders and turning you around until your back is facing him.

Realising you’re standing in front of Jungkook’s motorcycle, you swallow hard at what’s to come. His hands slide down your back, following the trail of your bare spine before stopping at the small of your back. His heavy booted foot slithers its way in between your thighs and pries your legs open, watching as they spread for  him.

What comes next is a shock to you. Jungkook crouches down below you, one palm on your clothed ass cheek and the other in between your legs, rubbing back and forth on your pussy. The damp spot grows with every flick of his fingertips on your clit and Jungkook makes sure to apply added pressure to the sensitive nub as he rubs.

With no warning, a tearing sound from behind you is heard and your mouth falls open in disbelief. Cold air meets your ass and that’s when it dawns on you that Jungkook has completely torn your leggings from the back. Your body hurls forward as he continues to tear the cotton material until your full ass is exposed to him. Mortification and unadulterated desire creeps up on you, warming your skin and setting your tummy alight at the realisation of the situation. But Jungkook doesn’t finish there. Grabbing the lace of your underwear, he pulls with all his strength at the article of clothing and rips them apart too. They stay on your body by your hips but the middle of your underwear is torn and dangling in between your thighs, pussy now in his vision.

Your pussy drips embarrassingly for him as your legs stay spread wide for his own enjoyment and pleasure. It’s so fucking degrading and yet you can’t seem to get enough of pleasing him.

Taking the situation into your own hands, you grab at your asscheeks and pull them apart to give Jungkook all the access to your dripping core. “Jungkook? Look how wet I am for you, baby.” You wiggle your ass left and right and back again, taunting Jungkook to touch you.

“Filthy fucking girl.” Jungkook caresses your ass. A hand is lifted and is brought down just as quick to slap you across your left asscheek.

You snort at his attempts, knowing just how to rile him up. “Is that all you got?” You grin and even though he can’t see you, you know he knows you’re grinning. He can hear it in your tone. You arch your back slightly, sticking your ass out toward him. 

He slaps you once more, this time to the right listening to you hiss at the contact, prompting him to smack you again on the other side, and again back on the left — alternating cheeks until your ass is searing warm and you’re a babbling drooling mess. Jungkook dips his hands back down in between your legs and a string of curse words are sworn out loud when he finds your pussy wetter than when he started.

“Please Jungkook, I want you,” you beg, knowing you mean it in more ways than one.

You're waiting for Jungkook to do something as you stand there in front of him, pussy dripping and skin searing. Looking over your shoulder, what you didn't expect was for Jungkook to walk away from you towards his workbench filled with all kinds of equipment for fixing up bikes. You watch as he picks up something red but his body shields most of the item from your prying eyes.

He comes back and you see that the item is long and dangles from his hands as he holds it in two hands. Jungkook picks your hands up from holding your ass and places them at the bottom of your back before binding the item around your wrists.

It’s when you feel the thick PVC that you realise he has tied your hands with a pair of jumper cables. What is even more mortifying is after he finishes tying up the leads, he bends you forward onto his bike with your tits pressed against the leather of the seat in the exact same compromising position that Jimin had you in earlier in the night. But this time it’s Jungkook, and you’re bound to his liking awaiting his cock.

“Don’t fucking like seeing what’s mine with anyone else… especially not fucking Jimin,” he snarls.

Jungkook spits from behind you into his palm and grips his cock, fucking his fist in eager strokes at your bound bent state right in front of him. He pushes his cock down to swipe through your folds, catching your arousal and coating himself in your wetness — a messy concoction mixed with his own cum and spit.

“Whenever you’re in this position, you’ll be reminded that I’m the one who fucked you raw on their motorcyle.” Jungkook pushes into you at the end of his speech while his hands slither to your hips and grips the skin tight.

Usually Jungkook preps you before he fucks you, using his fingers and tongue to open you up for him — stretching you wide to fit his thick length inside but other than him finger fucking you earlier in the night, there was nothing.

The bulbous head of his dick presses further into you until it finally passes past your tight hole, stretching your cunt open, the burn welcomed almost immediately as your head falls forward and you whimper at the pained pleasure.

You manage to keep your breathing steady as your lips are caught in between your teeth to stop yourself from moaning further. Your cunt flutters around him as he continues to push himself forward; struggling to take him in fully from the lack of foreplay. You can only thank the high heavens above that Jungkook let you use his thighs to get off, to get you wet in preparation of his cock because without it, you’re absolutely sure that he would have had you apart just like your clothing. Soiled and ripped into two halves.

“So big…” you whisper, beginning to feel the lightheadedness creep over you.

Jungkook helps slightly by pushing you off his cock until it is just the tip sheathed inside your cunt before he pulls you right back into him — his cockhead already pressing against your cervix as your pussy stretches to accommodate him — moulding itself into the perfect shape just for Jungkook. Folds white and creamy each time he pulls out, just how he likes it.

Your walls relax enough to allow Jungkook to start pulling and pushing you onto his cock. You spread your legs further for him, the new space allows your body to accept him easier. Jungkook swears as he eventually bottoms out within you, hot and swollen.

“Am I giving you everything you wanted, sweetheart?” Jungkook snarls, “my little cocksleeve.”

Your mouth drops open as Jungkook keeps rolling his hips into you, feeling every inch he feeds into your greedy cunt. The bike beneath you both shifts and you hear the metal from the kickstand below grind against the floor, the machine threatening to fall but this only goads Jungkook to fuck you harder.

All that radiates from Jungkook right now is power and dominance as he completely takes over your body, using it as his own personal fucking toy. His cock manages to glide inside you with such ease, reaching deep inside of you. Each thrust accompanied by a feral grunt, as if he is putting everything he has  into each pump of his cock. The sounds of the skin of his hips and thighs meeting yours fill the darkened room. Your duet of moans loud enough to be heard on the other side of the town.

“God, Jungkook! You fuck me so good — keep going — .”

Jungkook keeps up his pace, fucking into you rough, breaking his own promise from earlier. He sinks his cock back in with ease, the squelching of your cum, and skin slapping mixed with your harmonious moans fill the room. The site of your ass rippling with every thrust makes his mouth water. His hand grips your flesh and lets his fingers dig in, giving it a spank… and again twice, and thrice for his own pleasure of watching your body bounce for him.

Reaching forward, Jungkook finds your clit and circles it with two long slender fingers. You tremble beneath him, feeling your body tense as your orgasm approaches.

“Want to play with your ass,” he goads, knowing exactly how much satisfaction you gain from it. Undeniably, him too.

As quick as his fingers find your clit, they are removed and you almost let out a whine of disappointment. You’re not fast enough to give him an answer to his question before Jungkook takes his two fingers and presses them against the tight ring of your asshole, teasing little circles on your hole.

The sensation gives you flutters in your tummy, your pussy clenching at the promise of being completely filled with every part of Jungkook. Without warning, he presses his two fingers further, breaching your tight hole and immediately curling his fingers inside.

The feeling of his fingers inside your ass as he fucks your pussy makes your cunt flutter around him, which also allows your ass to tighten around his fingers too. Your hands try to reach out for Jungkook but the movement brings a nasty reminder that your wrists are still tied by the jump leads, leaving you craving to touch him even more.

You can't do anything but lie against his motorcycle as he fucks into you from behind with a ruthless pace, pushing your body into the bike.

You cry out when he finds that earthshaking spot inside of your ass. "Yes, right there," you cry.

Grunting, Jungkook makes sure he concentrates on that spot in your ass. Pulling his fingers all the way out, spitting on them to lube them back up and then pushing back into you knuckle deep. The sounds of his cock fucking into your cunt, wet obscene squealching sounds, his fingers in your ass and the slapping of skin picks up and it’s the most erotic sounds the both of you have ever heard. It may be the best sex you have both ever had.

It doesn’t take much more — just a few more drags of his fingers in your tight ass with his tattooed fingers as he continues to impale you right down on his cock until you cum, almost blacking out from how forceful your orgasm is. It's breathtaking and you can't keep your eyes open as he fucks into you, spurts of your cum splattering him as you struggle to breathe.

Jungkook moans, pushing harder into you while you are still working through your orgasm. Cunt tight and pulsing around his length, he smirks when you squeal out his name again. 

“Another.” He demands, keeping up the harsh slap of his hips.

Jungkook fills your ass with a second finger this time. The arrival of his middle finger is a tight squeeze but he manages to fit it alongside his forefinger perfectly. You feel your muscles constrict around his fingers at the new intrusion. Your cum spilling out of your used pussy as Jungkook fucks you raw like his own filthy possession. Like his own dirty fleshlight.

Your head turns swiftly to the side to see Jungkook above you. His hair is in a disarray, small droplets of sweat hiding behind his tresses of hair, allowing strands upon strands to stickily cling to his face. You watch as his abdomen flexes with each stroke, the deep V lines of his pelvis appearing and disappearing with every thrust. His cock exits you covered in your white viscid lust from your first orgasm as your second nears.

“I’m coming —,”

He looks monstrous with eyes dark and dilated with lust as his lips are caught in between his canines, expression clouded with carnality. He looks so beautiful like this. In the midst of his own pleasure.

You feel your body tense all over as your second orgasm rips through you. “Right there, please, I-I’m coming,” you scream, head blank and dizzy from the pleasure as you come all over again. Your body is tense and tears fall from your lashes and coats your cheeks in wetness. You mewl and scream, Jungkook plunging his cock harder and harder into you, coaching you through your high.

Pulling out of you, Jungkook pulls you off of his bike with the jump cable lead in his hand and guides you to your knees. Jungkook tilts his head to the side as your mouth envelopes him once more, opting to suck on his cock rough and fast.

He gathers his fists on top of your head to still your head as he begins to fuck into your throat with renowed vigor. Your eyes close as you taste both your own cum and Jungkook’s salty essence all at once. You relax your jaw to allow Jungkook to push himself past the tightness of your throat as he gives out a feral grunt with every stroke of his cock.

“So eager to have your mouth stuffed with my cum, aren’t you!?”

You hum at the praise, mouth too full to tell him exactly how it makes you feel as you squeeze your eyes closed in pleasure. With one final thrust, Jungkook stills his hips, his cock blanketed by your oesophagus at the back of your throat, leaving you gagging and coughing. Spurts of warm cum paint the back of your mouth as you feel him slide out of you as he reaches his orgasm. White sticky cum coats every part of your throat, tongue, and cheeks as you look up into his eyes, tongue hanging out for more.

You both put your lips back around his dick and suckle softly on the tip, tongue teasing the slit for more cum. Jungkook falls back slightly, using his elbows to prop his weight up against the workstation his tools are on.

You pull away from his cock, making a loud ‘pop’ as your lips leave his head. You shower his dick with small kitten kisses, feeling it soften against your lips.

“Jimin will never be able to fuck you like I do, sweetheart, just remember that.”

Again, warmth radiates all over your body at his words — the knowledge of you being his and his only gives you a prideful buzz.

Titling your head to look at Jungkook, who is towering over you, you smile a sweet saccharine smile and wink. “Jimin will never be able to fuck me like you,” you agree. “But what about Taehyung?” 

note: pls don’t be a silent reader & leave some feedback in my asks, reblog with a nice comment or even a lil reply saying if you enjoyed — big or small, they go a long way! supporting writers is always important <3

[austinbsblog]

The Winner Takes It All

(Benny Cross x Fem!Vandal!Reader)

Warnings: Smoking, alcohol, language, mention of breasts, kissing

A/N: I loved this anon request! It was so fun to write and get to experiment with a confident character. If you wish to see the request scroll down on my page!

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As you and Benny made your way to the bar, the rumble of his motorcycle reverberated through your body, filling you with a sense of exhilaration. You held onto him tightly, feeling the rush of wind as your hair flowed behind you, the streets blurring into streaks of light and color. You nestled your chin on his shoulder, the curve of his leather jacket providing a sense of security as you leaned into the ride. The heady scent of gasoline, cigarette smoke, and his cologne mingled in the air, creating an intoxicating aroma that filled your senses. With each breath, the familiar yet thrilling scent enveloped you, triggering a rush of anticipation and comfort. It was a scent that belonged solely to Benny. The warmth of his body pressed against yours provided a stark contrast to the cool night air.

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As you approached the bar, the lively sounds of the Vandals' loud laughter, clinking bottles, and soft rock music from the jukebox filled the air. Benny turned off the engine and steadied the bike with a kick of his boot, allowing you to dismount safely. "Thanks, Benny, I really appreciate it," you said, slipping off your leather jacket to reveal a black off-the-shoulder top. Leaning against the bike, Benny watched as you retrieved your lipstick tube and mirror from your pocket and applied a deep red color. "Of course, Baby," he teased, knowing well that you weren't a fan of the nickname. Being the youngest among the Vandals, you had unwittingly acquired the name "Baby" and it has stuck ever since. Benny often wished he could call you his, but his attempts to express his feelings were always met with your captivating gaze that left him feeling bashful. "Come on," you teased, impatiently tugging at his hand, "You're taking forever," as you playfully dragged him into the bar.

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The dimly lit space is filled with a fog of smoke and Vandals taking over every inch. Johnny is the first to see the both of you and his eyes light up at the sight of your hands clasped with one another, “Baby!” Johnny announces and everyone’s eyes snap to the door. Your smile grows wide as everyone exclaims about your presence, gives you hugs, or kisses your cheeks. The pull of the crowd causes Benny to lose you in the crowd and watch you interact from afar. “Today the day kid?” Johnny asks as Benny slides into the seat at the table, Benny just smiles and stares at you with a look of tenderness while you nurse a drink and tell some story to a group gathered around you exuding confidence and boldness that captivated everyone's attention. "Listen, kid, I'm telling you if you don't gather up the nerve to ask her out soon, someone else is going to sweep her off her feet, and you'll regret it for the rest of your life," Johnny muttered, the end of his cigarette glowing softly. "Remember how quickly I married Betty? That's because I saw in her what you see in Baby," he added taking a drag. “You getting soft on me?” Benny questioned, and Johnny just gave him a look. “Fine…yeah yeah okay, I’ll do it,” Benny said getting up from the table. Johnny lifted his eyebrow and tapped his watch signaling to Benny that time was ticking and you weren’t going to wait very long. 

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Benny's eyes studied the pool table and lined up his cue, taking the shot. Come on’s, damns, and shits were shouted from the surrounding players as they put their money on the table. Benny chuckled at the cries knowing that they lost. “My my boys, is that how you speak in front of a lady?” you ask from behind Benny, your heels clicking louder as you approach the table. Your hands leaned against the table allowing the men to get a view of your defined collarbones and top of your breasts. “Hm, I see Benny beat all you fools, well, let’s see if you can beat me,” you challenge, as you glance up at Benny, take the cigarette from his lips, and place them between yours. The men put their new bets on the table and chalk up the ends of their cues. '`You playin’?” you whispered to Benny, “No I’ll watch Baby,' ' he responded, “Alright,” you sighed. All of a sudden a 50 dollar bill gleamed on top of the pile, and everyone went silent. Your eyes followed the hand and leather-clad arm up to a handsome man you had never seen staring right at you. Two other men in leather jackets with a devil on the back were on each side of him with their cues, “Well hi there, I’m Baby” your voice is sultry as you greet them, “Hello… Baby,” the man responded with furrowed eyebrows, “I’m Michael, this is James and Christopher” he says pointing to the others. A moment passes before Michael says “Why don’t we make this a little more interesting gentlemen?” “What do you have in mind?” Danny says, cocking his head to the side, taking the cigarette, and blowing out the smoke, “Whoever wins, takes the money and her on a date,” Michael suggests with a smirk on his face tracing your body with his eyes. “She’s not an item to be bought…or sold” Benny argued while staring at Michael with cold eyes, “Okay, then just a date,” Michael countered and leaned in. All eyes were shifting between Benny who had a cool gaze and Michael who had a smirk plastered on his face. “And, if I win,” you paused, “I get the money,” you raised your eyebrow at the men having a staring contest. “Deal,” they said at the same time. 

•

•

•

It had been 30 minutes since the beginning of the game and 3 players were out. Benny and Michael were so concentrated on their scores and beating each other that they never realized you were winning significantly. Throughout the entirety of the game, Michael kept flirting with you to not only win you over but piss off Benny, and well, it worked. Benny was fuming like a bull. He couldn’t stand Michael treating you like an item, like some girl he could just fuck around with, you deserved better. When it was your turn, the balls were lined up perfectly for you to win. You smirk at the two men who were too busy giving each other death glares that when your stick hit the cue ball, you had won. The crowd’s roars and cheers for you caused Benny and Michael to snap their heads over to you. Your hand reached towards Danny who held the money, “Well Michael, tough game, better luck next time,” you snarkily said fanning yourself with the money, “He lost too,” Michael laughed as the crowd dispersed, “Did he though?” you smiled. Michael’s smile faltered at your question and Benny’s eyes widened as you walked over to his side. “He might have lost the game but, he sure as hell didn’t lose me, so thank you so much for your generous donation to our date,” you continued. You smile sweetly but with mischievous eyes as the trio walks away. “Come on, you gotta drive me home,” you say, taking Benny’s hand and once again dragging him out the front door. “Hold on, hold on,” Benny called out, “our date?” he said tugging at your hand so you were mere inches apart. “You think I wasn’t gonna go out on a date with you?” you gasped, “I didn’t… I… you like me?” Benny mumbled with a look of disbelief on his sculpted face. You put your hands on his face feeling the slight stubble and closed the gap between you. The kiss was passionate and made your stomach fill with butterflies as his hands enveloped your waist and rubbed the soft skin showing between your top and denim jeans. You broke the kiss when you heard muffled whistles and laughter. You both turned your heads to the bar and saw the Vandals pressed against the windows and door. You pressed your foreheads together and sighed,  “Does that answer your question?” you giggled. Benny broke out into a smile before planting a small kiss on your red lips.

~V

[bellesdreamyprofile]

benny & y/n : the hospital (part 5)

Benny breathed in distress as he was pushed away by Cal. Comforting pats on the back to distract him from what he had done - to convince him not to continue on the already dead man’s body. He didn’t know if it was humanly possible to hold on to so much rage. Though that rage was mixed up with guilt and, despite him not knowing it yet, love.

He didn’t say a word to his friends and shrugged Cal’s arms off him. Reached for his pack of cigarettes and immediately lit one up. Smoke left his lips as his eyes caught sight of the mayhem before him. People running away and hopping on their motorcycle, moving away before the cops showed up.

Benny took his time as he let the past hour flash before his eyes. Your eyes, oh your beautiful eyes. The twinkle in them as he revealed his soft side to you. Your laugh at his lame, flirtatious pick up lines. The things he would do for an innocent kiss.

His feet carried him to the spot where Kathy’s truck was parked and looked around once he realized they had all left. He jogged to his motorcycle and hopped on, quickly kickstarting it. He didn’t know the destination, but he assumed that an anxious person like Kathy would immediately take her to the hospital.

Benny didn’t like hospitals. They simply asked too many questions - questions where the answer was too complicated.

He found a spot for his bike and ran to the hospital, ignoring the indecent looks people were giving him. The red and blue beatings you got from that piece of trash haunted him, making him an enemy to anybody who dared stay in his way.

Dirt leaving his boots, nurses throwing daggers at him. Breathless as he reached the reception. “Where’s Y/N Y/L/N ?”, the woman gave him an uninterested look and looked him up and down.

“What makes you think I will pass on sensitive information—“

Benny didn’t think. “I’m her husband.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Your name, sir?”

“Benjamin Cross.”, he said quickly and looked left and right for possible sights of you. “She wanted to keep her last name. Something about her daddy.”

The woman’s eyebrow reached her forehead once more, before she let out a tired sigh. “She’s in room 102.”

Benny tapped his hands on the counter and ran off after muttering a quick thank you.

Soon enough he was standing in front of the room and was met by the girls he had seen you so often with. All sitting on the three lined up chairs by the corridor. The chick he had seen make out with every other guy at the club, the chick who had a crush on him and Kathy.

“Any news?”, he asked out of breath.

Kathy snapped her head towards him and blinked her tears away, standing up.

“Any news?”, she repeated in an incredulous tone. “Go look for yourself you son of a bitch.”, venom tainted her words as she sat down again. Kathy wasn’t angry. She was furious. How could you have given a guy like him a chance to your beautiful heart?

Benny sighed and moved closer to the window separating the two of you. He didn’t really know what heartbreak was and there it lied. A beautiful angel with ugly marks on your face. He felt something twitch inside him, a sensation he wasn’t familiar with. He took a step back and let out a shaky breath.

“I, uh… I’ll be right back.”, unbeknownst to him, Kathy was burning holes on his back.

Tears. Burning, wet tears ran down his cheeks as soon as the bathroom door closed. Oh, you son of a bitch you caused this.

He looked in the mirror and fought the urge to punch it. But no, he couldn’t self sabotage right now - not when you were in the situation you were in. Splashing water on his face, haunting words echoed in his head. Be a man. Be the man she needs.

“I’m sorry, you have to be Miss Y/L/N’s family in order to—“

“Is there a problem here, doctor?”

The doctor looked at Benny and sighed.

“Like I was explaining to these ladies here, you need to be immediate family to—“

“Alright, so you can give the information to me.”

The girls looked at him, wondering what the hell he was on about now.

“Sir, and you would be?”

“I’m her husband.”, at his words, the doctor didn’t argue for much longer and let him in your room.

Felicia stared wide eyed at the scene before her eyes. Her Benny? Married? To you?

Kathy was too busy staring daggers at Benny and his privilege, but Martha recognised Felicia’s gaze in a blink.

“Fel? A word?”, her friend blinked quickly and reluctantly stood up, walking away.

Martha grasped her arm, making her yelp.

“Ow!”

“It was you wasn’t it? Your obsession with Benny Cross needs to stop right now!”, Felicia had never seen her friend look as mad as she had right now.

Felicia rolled her eyes and looked away. “What the hell are you on about?”

“You know very well what I’m on about. That drunk guy on Y/N tonight?”, Martha lowered her tone to a mere whisper. “She’s our friend. Our sister. Sisters before misters.”

“You honestly would think I would send her off—“

“The point is, Fel, that you don’t seem to care!”, she huffed loudly. “Kat, me, even Benny fucking Cross are worried! Why do you not care?”

“Because you’re right! Okay?! You’re right, I’m in love with him a-and it was my love for him that led me to this okay?! Alright?! It wasn’t me—“

Martha’s eyes widened at her state. “Holy shit, so you did do it… What the—“, Felicia took off before she could add another word.

“Hey, honeybee.”, Benny’s fingers grazed your cheek in a loving way. Angel eyes closed and pink lips pressed softly together.

“I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you, honey. I’m a coward. I don’t deserve any of your kindness… Or love.”, he murmured, not wanting to wake you up. Benny was afraid of your reaction to his actions - to his words, to his lies. Could you look at him in the same way again? Would he still be lucky and get a soft kiss in between giggles?

But you didn’t react and his monologue went on even when the doctor walked in again, saying he had to leave.

His lips touched your forehead. “I’ll be back for you, baby.”

“There ain’t no rules about me waiting outside my wife’s room, right?”, Benny asked the moment he stepped foot outside. The doctor looked at him and sighed, shaking his head.

“No, sir. Though I will have to ask you fill out some forms first.”

Benny shrugged. “Fine by me.”

The doctor nodded and left. “I’ll be right back.”

“Really? Your wife, Benny?”, Kathy said, making him look over his shoulder.

“If I wasn’t her husband I wouldn’t have been able to get in there.”, he pointed at your room. “Isn’t that better than being kicked out for not being her family?”, Benny said, shrugging and took a seat beside her.

“It’s better than lying.”, she muttered in defeat. “And to a doctor!”

Benny looked at her and held back the urge to smile. “Who said we weren’t married?”, Kathy’s lips parted at his cocky question, but the doctor coming their way made Benny look away.

“Please fill out these forms, sir.”, he handed them to Benny. “And I will need one piece of identification.”, he hastily pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and handed the doctor his drivers license.

“I, uh, I need a pen?”, Benny looked up and the doctor froze for a moment before handing him his own from his front pocket. “Thanks.”

The man left once again and Benny positioned the papers on his thigh, filling out the document. “It’s like an exam. Except I know all the answers.”, he muttered under his breath. Kathy gave him an unimpressed look and rolled her eyes.

The afternoon passed and Kathy was forced to leave.

“You better call me if they got news on Y/N.”, she scolded him, making him tiredly nod.

“Yes ma’am.”, he replied and watched her go. Benny sighed and leaned his forearms on his knees, gaze down on his boots. Hours passed and his position changed to his back against the back of the chair and crossed arms to his chest.

A nurse walked by and tapped his shoulder repeatedly, making him lowly groan.

“Mr Cross? Your wife is awake.”, at her words, Benny’s eyes snapped open.

“Is she okay?”

The nurse smiled kindly and nodded. “She’s okay, sir. If you want, you may visit her.”, he stood up quickly and thanked her for the information.

Standing in front of your door, he sighed as a sudden anxiety overcame him. He knocked on the door and heard a faint come in.

Benny breathed out and opened the door.

“When they told me my husband was waiting for me, I thought I was hallucinating.”, you let out a little chuckle. Benny mimicked your action, relieved your first words to him weren’t hateful.

“It was the only way to stay here.”, he said softly and moved to sit on the chair beside your bed. “You feelin’ okay?”

You nodded and winced. “My head hurts a little, nothing else.”

An imaginary knife twisted in his heart. “I’m sorry to have put you in this position.”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Benny gulped, looking down, unable to meet your gaze. “If I hadn’t called you… My friend… We wouldn’t be here talking about this.”

“You can’t be possibly blaming yourself for something you had no power over, Benny.”

“But it was in my power! If I had made it clear that you were mine, you—“

You shook your head at his words and interrupted him. “Putting a little label on me wouldn’t have changed anything. Please don’t think about what could’ve happened.”, your hand reached out to touch his. “It was meant to go like this, Benny.”

He was the one to disagree now. “That guy beat you red and blue. How can you say that.”, you dropped your hand to your stomach again and purposely turned your gaze in the other direction.

“Stop reminding me.”, you muttered.

“But it happened. And goddamn if I hadn’t—“

You slapped his arm at his raised tone and pointed a finger at him. “I dare you to say one more hateful thing about yourself.”

Benny’s eyes met your enraged ones, his lips let out a sigh he had been holding back for minutes. He reluctantly grabbed your hand again, a small smile now on your lips.

“I just… I’m sorry. But I made sure the guy got it worse.”

Your smile faded in a split second. “Oh Benny. What did you do?”

Benny simply shrugged and leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about nothing.”, you closed your eyes and smiled a little at his sweet gesture. “It’s all gonna be alright.”

A/N: part 6 anybody?

MASTERLIST PART 6

Taglist: @leonesimp @cwallace02sblog @alexa4040 @notaceventura @wonderland2425

[marlequinncos]

Cosplay Build Guide: Marko's Jacket from The Lost Boys (1987)

I am a lover of the horror genre; horror movies, books, games, you name it! And one of my favorite horror movies is the 1987 classic “The Lost Boys”, which focuses on a gang of motorcycle-riding vampires in the fictional California town of Santa Carla. I'm also a big fan of thrifting and modifying items for cosplay. I decided to combine those two things and make a garment that has lived rent-free in my head since I first saw the film: the colorful patchwork jacket worn by the vampire Marko.

I'm going to walk you through how I made Marko's jacket, breaking down the different parts that comprise the garment.

Marko’s outfit is made up of several components: a white cropped tank top, light wash denim jeans, leather chaps, custom painted leather moto boots, fingerless motorcycle gloves, a black skull earring, and of course, that iconic and extremely loud jacket. 

All four titular vampires have a signature jacket they wear in the movie, and Marko’s is by far the most elaborate and distinctive. It consists of three main parts: the base jacket, the Italian tapestries, and the patches. Because of the nature of this build, I had to do a ton of intensive research to determine the individual and highly specific parts of the jacket. My main references were photos from movie memorabilia auction sites whenever one of the original jackets went up for sale, since they photograph the jacket from all angles.

Part 1: The Base Jacket

Marko’s base jacket is, according to my research, a men’s black Levi’s denim jacket in a size 40, which I believe translates to a medium. Now, I’m a petite woman (5’3”, athletic but slim), so I knew that the exact jacket would be too big for my frame. Instead, I found a men’s black denim jacket in an extra small; it's very similar in style to the original, but a little better proportioned for me. It's still very much oversized though. The first things I did were remove the buttons and pockets, and I cut off the hem of the jacket and the sleeve cuffs. Then I tossed the jacket in the washing machine to fray the edges. 

Part 2: The Tapestries

The hardest part of the jacket by far was finding the tapestries, for two reasons. The first is that the tapestries were all from the 1960’s and 1970’s, meaning I had to scour vintage stores and websites to find the right ones. The second is the variation. Six jackets were made for each Lost Boy in the movie; this is standard for a film, since some jackets would be used for closeups (the”hero” jackets) while others were used for stunts, and a few even have intentional holes in them for harness rigging. Because of that and the thrifted nature of the jacket, the Marko jackets for the film all differ slightly in the placement of the tapestries and patches.

There are five tapestries in total. Three are velvet: the matador, the peacock, and the leopard with the messed up face. These are impossible to dupe via Spoonflower or Contrado (custom fabric printing websites) due to the fact that these three are essentially small rugs. The other two, chariot lady and cat lady, are dupable via Spoonflower or Contrado printing since they aren’t the same fabric as the others.

The two pin-up tapestries are nearly impossible to find, more so than the velvet ones. In my months of searching, I never found either pin-up tapestry, so I had them printed by Contrado, along with the collar trim.

If you go searching for the velvet tapestries, you'll notice that there are several different versions of each one, with slight changes in color and placement of things in the art. How accurate you want to be is up to you. My peacock and matador are accurate to the tapestries on one of the stunt jackets, whereas my leopard is the correct color but wrong direction. That's doesn't bother me much, personally, especially since the leopard is the hardest of the velvet tapestries to find by far.

Once the tapestries were acquired, I measured different sections based on the dimensions of the jacket, mapped it out using washi tape on the tapestries, and then cut them all out. There was a decent amount of math involved here, specifically regarding scaling the sections of tapestry down by a few inches since my jacket is smaller than the original. I then arranged them all onto the denim jacket and pinned them in place before hand sewing them (yes, you read that right; I hand sewed this whole thing) on in the correct overlap. I also added the rhinestones to the cat lady.

I recommend using embroidery needles and upholstery thread to attach the tapestries to the jacket, due to the thickness and the weight. I also sewed along the designs in the tapestries themselves to better hide the stitching within the image.

Part 3: The Patches

Marko’s jacket has a total of 26 different patches on it, most of which are motorcycle or punk themed. For these, I found a seller on Etsy who makes 24 of them, and I used Contrado to print the remaining two (the anarchy symbol and the large skull) on canvas and added the stitching. You could thrift and find the patches as well, but here's the thing: while some of these patches are pretty easy to find, others seem to be nonexistent, to the point that I wonder if some were made exclusively for the movie. That's why I went and purchased my patches instead of hunting them down. My personal favorite is the “Screw U” one. One fun fact about the patches is that the large winged skull on the back is a leftover from the movie “The Warriors”.

I once again hand sewed these all on as per the references from the movie. You might think that ironing the patches on is an easier method, but there's a few reasons why that won't work: 1) the patches in the movie are sewn on; if you zoom in, you can see the stitching 2) I'm not sure the patches would even adhere to the velvet and velour of the tapestries and 3) if you decide you don't like the placement of a patch that you sewed on, you can just seam rip the stitching and adjust it, which you can't really do as cleanly with an ironed-on patch.

Part 4: The Tassels

The tassels on the jacket’s shoulder are not tassels at all; they’re squid skirts (a type of fishing lure), which is something I never knew existed until I started researching for this build. For these, I found a fishing tackle website that had the closest match to the colors I needed, a blue-grey/orange and a yellow/green. Both squids also have glitter and little eyes painted on.

Part 5: Weathering and Finishing Touches

Lastly, I weathered the jacket to give it that lived-in look. For the dirt/dust on the patches, I used powder eyeshadow. I also picked at the edges of the tapestries to fray them a bit. And to make the patches less stiff, I just broke the jacket in by wearing it around my house. The great thing about this jacket is that the more I wear it and the more it weathers, the better it'll look.

FAQ

How heavy and warm is the jacket?

The jacket is made of denim and rugs, so its pretty warm and heavy. It honestly feels like wearing a weighted blanket, which is a nice bonus if you're anxiety made flesh like I am. It makes a lot of sense for the jacket to be on the heavier side, because if you’ve been to Northern California, you know how cold it can get on the coast, especially at night (not sure if vampires can feel cold, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

How long did it take you to make the jacket?

I don’t time my cosplay builds, but I can guess based on the amount of TV/movies/podcasts/playlists consumed as I was working on it. I'm also pretty fast when it comes to hand sewing. By my estimation, the jacket took me about 45-50 hours of work, and that’s not counting the time I spent searching for the tapestries.

Can you make me one?

Sorry friend, I don't take commissions. Even if I did, there's no guarantee I could find the exact tapestries again. I appreciate the interest though!

One of the most useful resources for making this jacket is the Replica Prop Forum! There's a ton of information there, as well as discussions and troubleshooting about the construction of the jacket.

I hope you enjoyed this walkthrough of Marko's jacket! This was a fun build and I'm really proud of the finished product. I'm going to make the rest of Marko's outfit + wig to complete the cosplay, so stay tuned for that!

If you have any other questions, feel free to plop them in my inbox! In addition to tumblr, you can also find my cosplay work on instagram and bluesky @/marlequinncos

[pabtsblueliving]

I loved Come to Papa! I have the biggest crush on Chibs 😍. The man gets hotter as he gets older! Can I request for Chibs, maybe a first date with him??? He's trying to impress her. Like it's hard, right? Thanks!

Baby, I'm Yours

First date with Chibs

WC: 1.2K

Warnings: smoking, drinking, making out, like one curse word.

Hello, who doesn't have the biggest crush on him, hard not to. He was hot then and is still hot now. I started and finished when I got back from work, been wanting to write this all day. Bit rushed, but thank you for requesting, enjoy!

xoxo pabtsblueliving 💋

pabtsblueliving © 2023

You were nervous. A date.

You fiddled with the edge of your clay colored dress, sitting in your living room waiting to hear the motorcycle revving down the street. You were pleasantly surprised when Chibs Telford had asked you on a date.

You worked at the tattoo shop all the Sons had come through when they needed a new tattoo, or a new prospect was finally being initiated. You’d seen chibs a few times, never interacting too much unless it was a hello in that gorgeous voice, and a wink. A smile returned from you to him.

A few days ago he’d stopped in by himself, and you were cleaning up the shop. 

“Chibs, hey what can I do for you?” You smiled to him,

“Hi Lass, how’s the day?” He responded, “I’ve got a question, mayb’ bit out tha’ blue” He took his sunglasses off, put them on the counter, and leaned against it.

“Yeah, of course, what’s up?” You furrowed your brows, and taking off your gloves

“Ehm, would you want’a go on a date with me? Dinner, drinks, take yeh on tha’ bike?” He let out a breath he was seemingly holding since he’d arrived

Your eyes widened, and you smiled a bit, “Oh! Uhm, yeah, Chibs,” You looked down and smiled, then looking back up at him, “I would love to.” You beamed.

He gave you a smile, and a chuckle, “Alright, lady. Then uh, its a date” He picked up his sunglasses and began to walk out, confident in his stride. 

“Chibs, hold on.” You chased after him, meeting him at the bike.

He sat down and looked up, you continued, “When and where?” You chuckled a bit, he seemed to miss that part.

“Oh, ehm,” He let out a puff of air, “How about, tomorrow, 6pm, I’ll pick yeh up?” 

“It’s a date” You smiled and turned away, closing down the shop as he rode away.

And now, you find yourself, where we started. 

You fiddled with the edge of your clay colored dress, sitting in your living room waiting to hear the motorcycle revving down the street. You were pleasantly surprised when Chibs Telford had asked you on a date.

You’d just finished your third cigarette, in 30 minutes and a cocktail. You weren’t used to dates. You kept to yourself, provided your service of body art to the Sons, went out with friends sometimes, but that's really it. 

You let out a shaky breath. Did your hair look stupid, was your dress wrinkled, did your boots match your outfit? You were ripped from your thoughts when you heard the bike. His bike. You flew out of your seat, finding the nearest mirror and smoothing out your hair, adding lipliner and gloss to your lips.

He removed his gloves at the door, rapping his scarred knuckles on the door. Those three knocks finally pulled you into reality. You smoothed your dress and opened the door.

Upon opening the door was Chibs. He looked different, but handsome. He had black slacks with boots, a black button up that had more than a few buttons undone, and his cut. God, he looked great. 

You smiled and pulled your purse to your shoulder, “What do you think,” He started, “Clean up ok, for an old crow” His hands went up, presenting himself.

You laughed, “Clean up maybe too well” You winked. “Ready?” He held out his hand and a helmet. You nodded, strapped on your helmet and climbed behind Chibs, wrapping your arms around his sturdy frame.

And off you went, to the best date of your life. You went to an outdoor, casual, restaurant in the desert, 20 minutes from home. You had a chatty dinner, followed with a few drinks. You didn't want it to end.

You swallowed a sip of your cocktail, and took a drag of a cigarette, handing it to chibs as he leaned back in his chair taking it. The sun was setting on the desert, and he looked incredible.

“So,” You said, blowing out the smoke, “I’m surprised you’d asked me on a date.” 

He took a drag and chuckled, “Why’s tha’, Lass?” He raised a brow.

“I don't know, we’d never really spoken too much before, here and there. A wink and a smile maybe…” a smile broke out as you spoke, and he laughed.

“Well, em, I’ve had my eye on yeh for quite some time, Darlin’. Just recently grew the balls to finally talk to you and ask you.” He winked, bastard.

“Well, then thank god for your…balls…” You began to giggle and he chuckled, handing you the cigarette back.

As you took a final drag he spoke up, “How about we get outta here, love?” 

He handed you your helmet and put his sunglasses on, leading you back to the bike, and you rode off back to your home. 

He walked you to your door, a large, warm, hand at the small of your back leading you gently. You dug for your keys, nervous about his sudden silence.

“Damn…keys…uh,” You chuckled out an apology, and looked back. Finding him with his hands in his pockets, looking right at you. 

You finally grabbed your keys, and asked, brows furrowing, “What?” you questioned.

“Nothin’...I just eh, had fun…” He stalked closer, the space between you and your door, and him was getting increasingly smaller.

“I had a lot of fun too, Philip. I’d love to do it again sometime…soon…” You dropped your purse on the floor, and he trapped you between him and the door, arm above your head. You smelled his cologne, hoping it sticks to every item of clothing you're wearing.

You began, “so maybe like in a few days we can plan someth-” you started, cut off by a soft “shut up” 

You felt the chill of his rings on your cheek, and the smell of the leather and cologne on his skin, tasting the cigarette you shared not long ago, before you reached up and grabbed the shoulders of his cut. You quite literally melted into his kiss.

The arm above your head moved to the small of your back, bringing you in, This wasn't a normal kiss. It was sweet, slow, nothing too heated or sexy. 

You were soon interupped by the shrill of his cellphone, and he pulled away, breathing heavy as he sighed and answered the phone, while you remained in his grip. 

“Yeh?....Alright’ well, mate yer fecking interruptin’....You need me right now? Where?....” He answered on the phone, keeping eye contact with you then sighing, “Alright, Jesus christ, Tig give me twenty minutes.” He slammed the phone shut, forehead falling onto yours.

“I gotta go, lass…” He whispered, bringing a hand and stroking your hair.

“It’s ok, do what you’ve got to do Phil.” You gave him a wink and a smile, kissing right below his scar on his cheek

He winked back, and began to walk to his bike, “So, ill see yeh’ again, yes?” He yelled from down the driveway.

“After tonight, baby I’m yours.” You yelled back, a smile etched into your skin that would remain there for the whole night.

[agentmarcuspike]

"a minute from home"

biker!Joel x f!reader no outbreak au

cw: creepy date, reckless driving, tommy kinda cockblocks, soft joel, idk a/n: this was just a thought i had when i saw a silverfox with a motorbike and was too shy to ask if i could go for a ride with him, so i wrote this instead. kinda juvenile but you love it wordcount: 3k

The chill air of the evening brushes your skin as you push open the door from the restaurant. You’ve been swallowing the lump in your throat all evening, but the second you reach the parking lot outside you can’t hold back anymore, and a sob escapes your throat as you heave for air.

Through watery eyes, the city lights become a blurry haze. You get a glimpse of a gang of bikers outside the diner down the street as you look around to see if Colin has followed you outside. You don’t have time to assess before he grabs your arm and pulls you towards him.

“Where are you going?” His voice is harsh, demanding. “I paid for your meal and you’re just gonna run off? You think I’m some kind of charity or something?” 

He stands too close, looking down at you, holding onto your arm hard enough to leave a bruise. 

“Everything alright here?” A dark voice suddenly booms from behind you. It’s one of the men from the small group of bikers. 

“Yeah, mind your business,” your date replies, pulling you towards him.

“Wasn’t talkin’ to you,” the leather clad man says as he steps towards you both. He’s looking at you, trying to meet your teary gaze as you whisper a “yes”. 

“What’s that?” He asks again, hands on his hips. He’s bigger than Colin, and while he could probably take him out, he could take you out too, and you’re not sure who you’d rather be alone with: your terrible date or a strange man with a motorcycle. 

But something about his presence, the way he’s looking at you, makes you feel safe. 

“I just wanna go home…” you muster in a low voice. 

“Alright. And is this guy gonna take you home?” 

Colin is still holding onto your arm, but his grip is loosening now. Both men are looking at you, waiting, while you’re looking at the ground, not able to form a single word even though your body is screaming resistance. 

But then you lift your gaze to what you hope is your rescuer, and you don’t have to say anything for him to read between the lines. The answer is “no”.

“Right,” the man says, and takes a step towards the other guy. He’s holding a hand out, carefully nudging at him. “Why don’t you run off, mister, leave the lady alone.” 

He refuses to move, but lets go of your arm and staggers a little as the biker’s hand pushes him. 

“She’s literally my date, dude. Why don’t you run off.” His voice is nowhere near as confident as when he was alone with you, and the pitch a little higher, but it might just be compared to the other’s heavy bass of a voice. 

“I don’t think so, man.” The biker moves seamlessly in between you and your date, and you’re suddenly hidden behind his broad back.

You look behind you, and see that the rest of the bikers are paying attention, and they all look ready to pounce if anything escalates. 

Colin takes a few steps backwards, trying to get a look at you, but failing as the broad man moves to block his view. When he still doesn’t back off, the broad man takes a step towards him, and Colin finally steps back.

“Do you even know this guy?!” 

Colin’s talking to you now, backing away. When he gets no response, you hear him huff, and his footsteps disappear. It’s a few more seconds before the man turns to face you. 

He takes a step back, giving you space, and you finally get a good look at his face.

Dark eyes are boring into you, seemingly looking for any signs of injury. His lips are plush for a man his age, the streaks of gray in his hair giving him away as at least 50, but the scars across his crooked nose and his temple could be making him look older. 

Salt and pepper stubble give him a rugged look, which paired with the leather jacket and biker boots would have been too much, but the concern in his eyes softens him up just enough to not be scary.

“You okay?” he asks, eyes still on yours. You nod in response.

“Gonna need some verbal confirmation, sweetheart.” 

You clear your throat, not realizing until now how dry your mouth is, and give him a weak “yes”. He nods back at you, looking back to his gang. 

“Alright,” he begins. “I understand you not wantin’ to go off with a strange man right now which you shouldn’t normally, but my friend Maria and her husband Tommy are right over there, and I’d like to ask Al at the diner to fix you up with something to drink.”

 The words still don’t come to you, and you just stare at him.

“Somethin’ sugary, for the shock.” And then he adds: “A nod’ll do here.”

And you do. You nod, and he gestures to the diner behind you, which you walk towards together. He makes sure to keep a distance, walking next to you instead of behind so you can see him in your periphery at all times. 

The woman, Maria, stretches a hand out to you, and you take it.

“You alright, honey?” You nod for what feels like the tenth time in a minute. She gives you a warm smile, and the mustachioed man, which must be her husband, smiles as well. 

Maria caresses your arm as he points to the man who saved you. “That’s Joel.”

Joel gives you an affirming nod as he leans over to the other man, whom Maria tells you is Tommy. He leans in and whispers something in his ear, and Tommy heads inside the diner.

The woman’s hand on your arm calms you down, and it seems she can sense it.

“You’re safe here, sweetie. You’re safe with us.” 

Your eyes meet hers and she's smiling warmly. She’s probably right, and you do feel safe, but you’re still a little shaken up. Colin had paid for your meal, but you’d been too uncomfortable the whole time to eat much, and your low blood sugar is starting to make you a little dizzy. 

As if on cue, Tommy emerges from the diner carrying a cup with a straw and a paper bag. He holds them out to you. You look at him quizzically, and reach your hands out to grab the items from him. He nods, and goes back to stand next to Joel, who is leaning on his motorbike, arms and ankles crossed in front of him.

You’re left clueless for a second, looking from the cup to the bag, before Maria takes the cup from you so you can open the bag. The bag is warm and greasy, and peering into it you smell the french fries before you see them. Suddenly nothing has ever seemed more appetizing than greasy deep fried potato wedges, and you shove a handful of them into your mouth at the same time, washing them down with a big gulp from the cup Maria hands back to you, which turns out to be filled with strawberry milkshake. 

The relief is immediate, and you take a deep breath as you let the much needed calories reach your system. When you look to your liberator to thank him, he’s looking down at his boots, kicking at a crack in the asphalt. So instead you look to Tommy, who is already looking at you, smiling the same warm smile as before, and you breathe out a “thanks” between eager gulps. He nods, and looks down just like the man next to him. 

Joel clears his throat, and you take it as your sign to get out of their hair. 

“Thank you,” you repeat, as you crumple the top of the paper bag in one hand and wipe the other on your skirt. “For this and…” you lift your drink and nod towards the parking lot where you were rescued earlier. “That.”

“Yeah,” Joel says, finally looking up for you, lifting the corners of his mouth slightly. “‘course.” 

Your eyes lock. For a moment it feels as if he’s looking straight through you, and you really believe that standing up for you was no big deal to him.

The silence is broken as Tommy claps his hands together. “So!” he says, looking between the two of you, landing on you, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s get you home.”

You’re taken aback, you didn’t expect them to do you any more favors. “Oh that’s okay, I can get myself home! You guys have already done enough for me tonight.” 

“How?” Joel’s question is accusatory. 

“How what?”

“How’re you gettin’ yourself home?”

“The… bus?” You try, worried there’s a wrong answer. There is, and you just gave it.

He shakes his head. “No way.”

“Yeah,” Tommy adds. “We’ll take you home. We’re just riding around anyway, it’s no big deal.” He turns to Joel. “You’ve got Sarah’s helmet, right?” 

Joel gives a singular nod. “Shouldn't be walking alone this time a’night anyway,” he says, more to himself, as he fiddles with the extra helmet strapped to the backrest of his bike. 

As you watch his competent fingers loosen the strap and put down the extra pair of footrests, you catch yourself wondering if Sarah is the woman waiting for him at home, and why she isn’t riding with him. Maybe she’s too scared. Unlike you, because you’re not scared, you unconvincingly lie to yourself.

Pushing the nerves aside, another feeling interrupts your thoughts, and you can suddenly see Joel up against a wall with you, where the warmth of his electric touch sends shivers down your spine. His proficient fingers exploring every inch of you–

Shaking off the idea, you down the last of your milkshake, throw the cup into a nearby bin, and walk up to Joel and his big gray motorbike. 

Maria jumps effortlessly onto the back of Tommy’s, where he’s already sat. Joel holds out the helmet to you, and you grab it cautiously as he goes to put on his own. Sensing your insecurity, he puts it down again and takes yours back from you. He shoves it under his arm as he delicately brushes your hair behind your ears. 

“Got a hair tie or something?” he murmurs. “Gets windy.” 

You nod, taking the scrunchie off your wrist and pulling your hair together to put it into a ponytail, but Joel shakes his head, and indicates with his finger for you to turn around.

Gathering your hair in his hands, he divides it neatly into three sections and starts braiding them loosely together. His fingers in your hair makes the images return, and you catch yourself wishing he would pull it. But he’s careful and soft as he finishes, quickly caressing  the top of your head to smooth the hairs down, and he reaches his hand over your shoulder for you to place the hair tie in his palm. 

After securing the braid, he taps your shoulder to make you turn back to him, and he carefully pushes the helmet onto your head, making sure not to pinch your skin as he fastens the buckle under your chin. 

“Ever rode on one of these before?” he says as he squeezes your shoulder and turns to put his own helmet on. You shake your head. You’ve never really been interested in trying either, the only experience you have with motorbikes coming from rolling your eyes when someone revs one up and down your street too late at night. 

He reaches his hand out to you, and gently holds it while you throw your leg across the seat, helping your feet find the footrests. Then he seats himself in front of you, and he’s suddenly between your legs. “You just slide down a bit,” he urges you, and reaches behind him to softly guide your arms around his waist. “And hold on tight.”

“Where to?” Tommy yells from behind you. You tell him which part of town you live in, and Joel nods once before he kicks the kickstand and turns one of the handles causing the motorcycle to roar to life. It’s the same sound you’ve spent nights complaining about, but this time it’s different.

The roar of the motor makes the seat shake under you, and you automatically close your legs together around Joel. Feeling your thighs clench around his own, he stretches out a hand behind him again to give your knee a quick comforting squeeze.

The bike stutters slowly forwards, Joel using his feet to move it. It’s vibrating violently between your legs, and you suddenly become very aware of the jeans covering Joel’s hips rubbing against the skin of your inner thighs.

As you glide out on the road, the vibrations from the grumbling motor move through your body to your head, and you feel like you’ve just been hit by a nicotine rush. Except it’s not nicotine, it’s adrenaline rushing through you where you’re sitting on a motorcycle with a stranger, in the middle of traffic with no seatbelts or doors or walls to protect you. Only Sarah’s helmet.

Your hands clench around the soft leather of Joel’s jacket, and you shut your eyes tightly. The visor protects your face from the wind, but you can still feel your eyes water, and you’re not sure why. When you turn your head to the side and finally look, you’re met with a blur. You must be going at least 75 miles per hour, not even on a highway, and the speed makes it impossible for your eyes to focus on anything you drive past.

Even though it’s summer, the wind is freezing at this speed, and the skin on your legs and hands feels frozen. For a second you regret not wearing tights or anything, but why would you, you’d shaved your legs today, and wasn’t exactly expecting this to happen.

You’re not sure why you trust this man, but you do, so you let yourself relax a little bit, trying to enjoy the feeling of flying down the road with him. Without loosening your grip around Joel’s waist, you lean back a little so you can see more.

To your surprise you’re almost home already, and you’re almost disappointed when the motorcycle slows down and turns onto your street. You let one of your hands move to your driver’s arm and tap it lightly to let him know he’s at the right house.

He swerves into your driveway, Tommy following close behind. Maria is off before you’ve even managed to move your hands from Joel’s waist. He pulls out the kickstand with his foot, and Maria grabs your hand when the bike tilts slightly. Joel gets off before you, and takes your other hand. You hadn’t realized how hard you’d been clenching every single muscle in your body, and you wobble as you manage to get off.

"Careful, honey," Joel murmurs quickly as he steadies you. His hand must be just as cold as yours, maybe colder, because it feels almost warm in yours. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, his eyes fixed on you, giving you the same look as earlier, looking for signs of damage.

Tommy walks up and puts a hand on Maria’s shoulder, and she grabs it casually.

"Alright," he almost yells, interrupting your little moment, and you both look up. "You feelin’ okay?"

You nod. You are. "Thank you," you say to all of them, Maria and Tommy nod and smile politely, and your eyes land on Joel, who is looking around. He sniffs quickly, running a hand over his stubble and clears his throat, before he meets your eyes. "Thank you," you repeat, and you think he understand you don’t just mean for getting you home.

"Yeah," he replies, shyly. "I’ll, uhm…" He gives Tommy a quick glance, who responds with taking Maria with him back to their bike. "I’ll walk you in. F’you want."

The silence is thick with expectation as you walk together the few steps to your front door, and your hands shake as you struggle to unlock it. Joel comes to the rescue for the third time that night, saving you from your date, getting you home, and now having to help you get into your own house. You give him a grateful but embarrassed smile as his turns the key in the lock without any struggle, but he just pushes the door open for you without any judgement.

Leaning on the doorway you try to decide on how to end the night, and it must be the adrenaline still in your veins that causes you to say what you say.

"Do you wanna… come inside? For a drink, or something?"

Joel shifts his weight from one leg to the other, and you swear you see a subtle smile before he speaks.

"I’m drivin’."

You almost roll your eyes at your own stupidity. Of course he’s driving, he just drove you home.

"Right," you grimace, and he chuckles back at you, which you only hear, because your eyes are fixed on your doormat, embarrassed.

"But, uhm…" he continues unexpectedly, and you look up at him.

"F’you ever need a ride…" He shrugs. "Or anythin’. You know where to find me."

You nod before your mind catches up. "Wait, where?"

"Al’s diner," he clarifies, another grin making a quick appearance on his face. "Right," you chuckle again. "The diner."

Something suddenly startles you both, and you realize it’s Tommy starting the motorbike. He revs the motor to get Joel’s attention, who turns to look, and takes a few steps backwards.

"Like I said," he says as he turns to leave. "If you need anything…"

You watch his broad form make his way back down your driveway towards the big motorcycle. Your stomach makes a jump as he straddles it, and right before he pulls his helmet down over his head you swear you see him wink at you.

[incorrectbatfam]

Who would get snapped by Thanos?

(also on Ao3)

Of all places, he was buying fucking cigarettes when it happened.

Jason was digging through his wallet when the woman behind him suddenly screamed. He whirled around and—

Hang on, didn't she have a kid with her? He could've sworn there was a toddler whining about candy just now. But when he looked, his eyes were met with a pile of dust and the lady staring at her hand, face pale.

Behind her were a group of teenagers. The shortest one—couldn't have been more than 14—turned to the others and said, "Guys, something's wrong." But before anyone could react, his skin cracked and he crumbled to pieces, leaving his friends scrambling.

The cashier dialed the police. Someone demanded to know what was going on. Without his helmet or guns, it wasn't as though Jason could say he got this all taken care of. Cigarettes forgotten, he slipped away from the crowd and called Bruce.

No answer. So he tried again, and on the third time he left an expletive-filled voicemail before hopping on his bike.

He zipped past the changing signals and swerved around the three-car pileup forming as he tried Dick's number. But all he got was that godawful singsong voicemail that Dick recorded years back.

That was two down already.

No.

No, he wasn't gonna think like that. Those two knuckleheads were fine. Hell, with a family of detectives, they were probably cracking the case as Jason broke a red light.

He picked another number.

It clicked.

"Roy, are you—"

"Jason." Roy's ragged breathing almost made his words unintelligible. "It's Lian. She—she..."

"It's happening everywhere," Jason said. "I don't know who's behind this but I'm gonna keep you updated."

There was nothing on the other line. Not a breath or panicking keen. His heart dropped.

"Roy?"

After several attempts, he had no choice but to hang up.

He didn't even wait for his motorcycle to stop completely, dumping it next to the others.

"Guys?"

The Cave was far, far too quiet. Jason grabbed his domino and a batarang lying on a bench.

"Hello? Anyone?"

He stuck a comm in his ear. It crackled to life.

"Guys, we have a situation. Is anyone reading me right now?"

Silence.

He spotted a familiar wheelchair in front of the glowing Batcomputer and let out a sigh of relief.

"Oracle! I'm glad you're—"

But there was no red hair or keyboard clacks to go with it. A steaming coffee cup was tipped over, soaking a case file and dripping onto the floor.

Alfred had to be okay. He's Alfred.

Jason raced upstairs, almost missing the three piles on the couch with purple, yellow, and orange video game controllers buried among them. In the cat bed is another one. His lunch crawled up his throat, but he swallowed it down and moved to the next room.

"Alfred?" His boots echoed through the halls with each step. "Anyone here?"

He checked the kitchen, but it wasn't Alfred he found. Rather it was Damian, staring at his ash-covered fingertips just like the lady at the store.

"They were right here." Damian's voice trembled. "Me and Cain and Pennyworth, we were talking and... and..."

He stumbled forward. Jason caught him.

"I got you. I got you." He wrapped his arms around the kid.

"Akhi?"

Something about it made Jason's blood run cold.

"I don't feel so good."

"Don't say that. You're fine." He squeezed tighter.

"I—I don't want to go. Not again." Damian's fists—oh God, they're so tiny—clung to Jason's shirt.

But all the pleading in the world amounted to nothing as the atoms of his baby brother slipped through his fingers. And even though it felt like everything was bubbling to the surface, he couldn't scream or cry out. All he could do was kneel there, numb, wondering who would have the audacity.

After who-knows-how-long, he felt Ace nuzzle against his ribs.

"You're still here."

"Arf!"

"You're right." Jason swiped the tears from his face and stood up. "Fetch me my guns. There will be hell to pay."

[mrowtastic]

Ok I had a cool Idea about a dp x dc au that i want to throw out here.

The story takes place after the show. Everyone is in their early-mid twenties, (I'm thinking the Trio is around 22-23 and Jazz 26-27, depending), Everything that happened in the show happened here. It's been over five years now and Team Phantom is a well-oiled machine of ghost kick-assery.

The Drs Fenton are retired from the ghost hunting business. Inventing new gadgets and theories is their game and they enjoy it. They have gladly passed the torch to their two kids that they are so so proud of. (Maddie insists that they call at least once a week to chat).

Everyone has stuck together. Amity is healthier (ghost-wise) and is particularly peaceful. The gang goes to the same college (take your pick, i prefer Gotham thanks to ghosty biz), and realize just how much their ghostly know-how is needed outside of Amity. (Maybe Gotham calls in a favor and asks them to [spiritually] clean up her streets to help with the strain of everything?).

Team Phantom comes out of retirement to address the spiritual turmoil, hunt down naughty ghost, help the dearly departed to the other side, and steal mementos, haunted artifacts, and other dangerous occult items best left to the dead. The more morally-grey parts of the job force the Team into stealth mode. They work mostly at night but can work during the day depending on the mission. In order to stay anonymous they have motorcycles (with their assigned colors, the sporty kind) with helmets. (I'm imaging so many motorcycle chasing scenes. Maybe the Fentons invent a ghost whip that snags ghosts mid-chase? That sounds cool).

It's easy to get what they need between Sam's and Danny's wealth, Tucker's programming skill, Danny's engineering skills, Jazz's organizational skills, and Sam's ability to see the big picture. It's just like old times.

In a sense they make themselves a superhero group. To everyone else, however, they have come out of nowhere and are way to skilled to be newbies. It has the bats and other heroes scratching their heads. Shenanigans ensue. Constantine loves them and loathes them in the same breath. The Bats are running in circles because How do they keep getting away?

Everyone gets a superhero identity:

Danny: Sticks with Phantom. I know, boring, but no one outside of Amity really knows about him. (I'm thinking an info blockade from the government like in so many fics). He specializes in all the ghostly, magical parts of their exploits. Anything that needs to be done regarding ectoplasm and weird symbols is his business. Also is the only one able to make chemicals needed for their weapons and handle a hammer for repairs to equipment. I imagine him in either a black trench coat or motorcycle jacket with combat boots, black jeans, and regular black t-shirt. He wears goggles like Maddie's. (Like mother, like son). They make him look unhinged.

Sam: I'm leaning towards the name Thorn? She's the sharpshooter. The muscle. She can and will crack your head between her thighs and possesses 90% of the trio's impulse control (in most situations). I imagine her in knee-high, laced up, goth boots, leggings and killer skirt with a leather jacket and crop top. Her colors are still black, purple, and green. She is SWOLE. I love her.

Tucker: Now, I'm not sure what his name would be but he's basically the field tech. Having an on-site hacker is super useful. He's got twenty ways to get into every building. Security means nothing to him. He's great at stealth (not counting Danny cause ghost powers) and is great at thinking on his feet. His color are black and orange. Instead of wearing his red beret and yellow shirt duo he wears sneakers, tech glasses, a motorcycle jacket with a hoodie attached.

Jazz: Prophet is her codename. She's the lady in the chair. Tucker may make the programs that run the computer, but only Jazz can run them efficiently. She gets them where they need to go, gets them out of tough situations, gets info, assists Tucker, and so much more. Also, I want her to fly a ghost jet. I dont know why but she would be so cool doing it.

[andydrysdalerogers]

Under the Hood 

Dark! Mechanic Steve Rogers x F!Reader 

A broken car, a handsome hero. Nothing but a spark between you. If only you knew... 

Song: Tainted Love by Soft Cell

Word Count: ~ 2.7K

Warning: 18+ only! SMUT!, drugging, dub-con, degradation, oral (f-receiving), dark! Steve Rogers 

Mood board by: @georgiapeach30513

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

A/N: This came from the mood board challenge game that @georgiapeach30513 hosted a few weeks ago. I spun the wheels and have been pushed out of my comfort zone. My spins were Mechanic Steve Rogers, degradation and drugging.  Please heed the warnings below.   

As this is an out of my comfort zone fic, feedback would be appreciated but being mean or rude comments will not be tolerated and you will be promptly blocked. 

Doing my normal taglist at the bottom. Please let me know if you want to be removed.

Main Master List

Climbing down the steps of your building, your smile is big as you look forward to your day. Being an art teacher was fun, especially with the younger children.  As you climbed in your vehicle, you couldn’t help but sigh. Today was going to be a great day.  

But then, your car wouldn’t start.  

“C’mon,” you muttered. Your smile fell. This was an older car for sure, but it wasn’t that old.  You got out and popped the hood. Not seeing anything out of place. You tossed your head back and sighed.  So much for it being a great day.  

“Need some help?” 

You jumped and whipped around to the voice behind you.  A man, a gorgeous man stood behind you, a rag wiping grease from his hands.  You eyed him, up and down.  Blonde hair, blue eyes, scruff around his chiseled jaw, white, dirty shirt that was fitted to a narrow waist and tone legs wrapped in jeans. Motorcycle boots finished the look and you managed to look back up at the Adonis standing in front of you.  You swallow, “my car won’t start.”  

“I can see that.  Can I look?” He smiled but you hesitated.  “My name is Steve and I work at the garage.”  He pointed to the garage, Barnes Automotive. It had been a staple in the neighborhood for years.  

“Sure.”  You stepped aside, smoothing out your dress as Steve ducked his head under the hood.  You chewed your lip as he fiddled with the engine.  

“Looks like there are a couple of problems, sweetheart. Gonna take a few weeks to repair.” He looked at you as he cleaned his hands.  

“No,” you whispered. Tears began to flood your eyes.  What were you going to do? You had to get to work and now you were stuck.  

“You ok?” 

“No,” you repeated, louder this time.  “I don’t know a lot of people in this town and I’m not sure how I’ll get to work and stuff.” You sniffed, trying to keep the tears at bay.  

“Well, I can give you a ride,” Steve offered. “I’m at the garage early and I can step out to take you and pick you up. We’re neighbors after all.”  

“Oh, I couldn’t impose.”  

“My mama would whoop my ass if I left a lady all alone, stranded.  Promise, I don’t bite.” He smiled again and you melted. There was nothing wrong with accepting help.  “C’mon sweetheart, what do say?” 

And it started.  Every day, Steve would give you a ride in his classic black Mustang and pick you up every night. You would chat the five or so miles every day. He had coffee ready for you, once he learned of your preferences.  He was charming and sweet.  

And every day, you fell, more and more.  

Steve was falling in love.  

Well, to be honest, he had been in love with you for months.  When he first saw you, you were moving into the neighborhood.  You were beautiful, your hair swept up in a bun at the top of your head with a glitter headband that made him think you had a halo. Jean short that hugged your ass as your shirt was knotted at the waist. Just the sight of you made his dick twitch, your hair, skin, clothes, everything made his blood sing.  

“I need to know her,” he told his best friend, Bucky.  

Bucky whistled, “she is a dime. What’s your plan?” 

“Get to know her. However way I can.” Steve smirked and walked away, putting his plan into motion.  

About six weeks into the repairs, you needed a mental health day.  You sent a text to Steve to let him know that you were staying home.  

You: I’m sorry, I need a rest day, not going to work 

Steve: everything ok? 

You: yeah, I'm just needed a break. Going to veg on the couch 

You: I’ll miss your coffee tho 

You got no response to that last message.  Frowning, you went to make your own cup when there was a knock on the door.  Curious, you looked through the peephole and smiled.  “Steve, what are you doing here?” 

“I didn’t want you to miss your cup of coffee.” He held out the travel mug to you, the special one he bought especially after mixing up the cups once before.  

“Oh, you didn’t have to be so sweet,” you swooned. You took the cup and took a sip. “So good.”  

Steve grinned; “I added some cinnamon to the coffee.” 

“God, my own personal barista.” You gave him a big smile. “You want to come in?” 

“Sure, if that’s ok.”  

“It is. I’m just taking a me day today. Veg out, you know.”  

Steve frowned. “Veg out?” 

“Lay like broccoli.” You giggled.  “It's from a movie. Pretty Woman?” 

“Never seen it.”  

Your jaw dropped. “Steve! How could you have gone through life without seeing Pretty Woman. Rich guy meets hooker, and they make an arrangement to help him.  But before she gets paid, she falls in love.” You clutch your hands to your chest. “And then the guy chases after her to tell her he loves her too.”  

“Sweetheart, I’m a guy. We don’t watch movies like that.”  

“Well, you will today.” You took his hand and tugged him to the couch. You sat down next to him and pulled your blanket over your legs.  

“Sweetheart...” 

“Nope. I need to educate you.” You flipped on the movie and reached for your coffee to sip.  As the movie started, you snuggled closer to Steve, the warmth of his body drawing you in. The smell of the coffee, his cologne mixed with his natural scent was an aphrodisiac. You sighed when he put his arm around behind you.  

Steve ran his long fingers over your skin, fluttering along the now sensitive flesh on your arm. Suddenly, you wanted to be closer. You scooted right next to him and laid your head on his shoulder as he dropped his arm around your waist.  His fingers now played with the strip of flesh that was exposed from your shirt riding up.  

“Steve,” you whispered.  

“Yeah baby, this ok?” 

You turned your head up to look up at him. He could see your pupils were blown, desire and lust filled them that all he could see was black. He smirks as he trails his finger down your cheek and watches as your eyes close from the sensation. “Open them,” he growls. You blink your eyes open to see the positively feral look in his eyes. “Mine.” And he kisses you.  

It’s everything you didn’t expect but everything you dreamed of. His lips are soft, but they kiss you rough and needy. You’re needy. You shift or he shifts you, you’re not exactly sure but now you’re in his lap, straddling him, your hands on his face to hold him to you, his arms around your hips. You pulled back to breathe. “Steve,” you mumbled.  

“You like this, don’t you baby girl. Rubbing yourself on me like a little slut.” He pulled you back in and rocked your hips back and forth on his lap.  Your thin cotton shorts allowed him to feel how hot your pussy was, and it left nothing to the imagination.  The friction on your pussy from his erection pushing up through his jeans was mind-blowing.  

Desire flooded your blood, his words setting you on fire. “Fuck, Steve,” you moaned as your hips began to move on their own.  

“That’s it, grind on my cock. Fucking slut.” Steve assaulted your neck and shoulders, moving your shirt out of the way.  “Fuck this,” he yanked the shirt off of your body, grinning at the fact that you had no bra on. “God damn, these tits are just made to be sucked on.”  

“Yes, please,” you moaned. Your mind was spiraling; you’ve never been so turned on. It borderline hurt, the need to have Steve touch you, taste you, fill you.  God, you needed Steve to fuck you, like yesterday.  

Steve chuckles darkly at your neediness. “I’m going to destroy this pussy soon enough baby.” When you whined louder, he grinned. “You like that, don’t you, you dirty whore. You want me to wreck this body.” You nodded and Steve flipped you onto the couch, so he hovered on top. He rolled his hips against you, and you shuddered at his hard length pressing into you. “How long has it been, hmm?” 

You went silent, embarrassed at how long it had been since you had been with a man. Lust was overcoming your senses, but you resisted answering him.  

“It's been that long, huh?” Steve chuckled as he took a nipple into his mouth. Your back arched, relishing the feeling of his hot mouth on you.  

“S-steve, fuck, please!” 

“Oh, beg for me, slut, beg for what you want. Fucking brat can’t wait, can she? Maybe I’ll choke you on my cock so I can see your lips wrapped around me.”  You keened at the suggestion and Steve’s jaw dropped for a second before pulling himself off of you and moving you to your knees. “Open, fucking cock tease and choke on me.”  

You didn’t hesitate, wait, why didn’t you hesitate? Your mind was in a daze of lust and yearning.  

And Steve knew.  

He knew why you didn’t hesitate.  For once, John Walker had been proven useful. “Just a drop,” he said, “in her drink and she becomes putty in your hands.”  And the six weeks of spending time together in the car had put your guard down. So trusting, so innocent, so … his.  

The first touch of your lips on his cock was like lighting up his spine. “Fuck, that mouth is hot,” he moaned as you bobbed on the tip. You weren't sure if you could take all of Steve. He was the largest you had ever seen or been with. Steve threaded his hand into your hair and pushed you deeper onto him.  “I said to choke, you stupid slut. I want my dick to be imprinted on your throat.” His other hand grabbed at your neck and squeezed just enough to feel his cock. “That’s it, my little slut.”  

You gagged as his cock punched your throat. Tears mixed your saliva as you took as much of Steve as you could. The man was at least nine inches of solid, velveting man and just feeling every ridge made yor core tingle in delight.  

Before Steve could release, he pulled back. “No, I want to cum inside this pussy.” He lifted you off the floor and into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist.  His cock was nestled in between you and you could feel it pulsing, wanting to release and fill you with his warmth. “I wanna watch my cum leak out of your gaping, stretched out hole so I can push it back into it.” You shuddered at his words. Steve chuckled.  You like that, hmm? He throws you on the bed and reaches for your sleep shorts.  Not even fighting me. Horny bitch. He rips the rest of your clothes away and you squeak at the force.  

He latches on to a nipple and your back arches as he bites and tugs on the peak. “St-st-steve,” you wail as he continues to lavish attention. 

“Beg for it, slut. Beg me to fuck you hard. Beg for my cock to fill you up and leave my seed I your womb, fucking cock drunk whore.” You cry as he sinks down as pulls your clit between his teeth. “Knew you were cock drunk when you can’t even beg.  Beg, dammit! Beg or I won’t give you want you want! God damn slut! Bet you just prance around like a goddam tease for all of the other guys in the neighborhood.  Bet you have a line so they can just use you.” His big hand covered your throat.  

This snaps you out of your daze, grabbing onto his wrist.  “No! No I don’t. I’m not a whore!” 

“Yes, you are, slut. Wasted no time letting me in here. Am I the first?” He scoffed.  “I doubt it.”  

“No! No! Just you, only you, Stevie, just you!” You cried as Steve held your throat tighter. “Only want you,” you whispered as the air flow began to dwindle.  

Steve felt your hand begin to loosen from his wrist and he let go of the pressure.  You gasped and he pushed hard into your tight heat. “Fuuuuuck,” he moaned, feeling you wrapped around him.  

You tried to make a noise at the intrusion, pain screaming through your body.  But your brain, well your brain enjoyed the pain. It wanted to Steve’s cock to wreck your body but had no idea why. You just needed him and the pain was worth the pleasure you were feeling now.  Steve withdrew and you whimpered at the slight loss.  He chuckled. “Needy cock slut.” He slammed back into you, and you found your voice, screaming.  

He kept the pace, pounding into you as his filthy words penetrating the air. His cock was so deep, you swore it was in your stomach at this point. His pubic hair was brushing along your clit, sending zings through your core, causing you to clench around him.  

“Oh fuck, this pussy is gripping me so tight. Wanna cum, slut? Use your words.”  

“Pl-please!” 

“Words, fucking cunt. Use. Your. WORDS!” He punctuated each word with a thrust into you.  

“Please let me cum!” You screamed as the pleasure was reaching its point.  

“CUM!” 

He roared as he pinched your clit.  

It was like lighting through you.  You pulsed and exploded, squeezing his cock so hard, he couldn’t move. “That’s it, fuck, Such a good little whore.” The tension in your body eased and you were pliant under Steve.  He continued to move, thrusting to meet his end. You cried out from oversensitivity.  

“Can’t,” you cried.  

“Oh yes you can.” Steve kissed you hard until you were bubbling underneath him, your body climbing again. “I need to fill this body with my cum. Fuck, gonna make you a mommy, little whore.”  

Why would he say that? You thanked God that you were on birth control but still his words, shit, his words were bringing your body to the brink again. “Steve,” you moaned.  

“Ready for another? Wanna be my cum drop, hmm? Let me fuck my baby into you?” Steve thrusted harder and harder. You cried out, his hips slamming into you. “That’s it, cum again. Let me fill this slutty pussy up.” One, two and you were gone, eyes rolling back as your body arched from the third explosive orgasm of the day.  “Fuck! Yes!” And with a thrust, Steve flooded your womb with his warmth.  He slowed his hips, dumping everything he had into you.  

He lay on top, his head in the crook of your neck, catching his breath.  You didn’t move and when he lifted his head, he smirked as he realized you were passed out under him. He pulled out and saw his cum starting to seep out. “Whoops, gotta keep the good stuff in there.”  He pushed his cum back into you.  

After grabbing a towel from your bathroom and cleaning you up, he went back to the living room and saw a couple of things had fallen from his jacket.  He saw the packet of pills, snorting at the thought of him switching out your birth control for the last few weeks. “A necessary evil,” he said to himself. Honestly, he wanted a family as soon as possible with you and hopefully this session took.  

The second item was more unusual, but it was the catalysis to start his dreams. The saying was that you just need a spark to start something wonderful. But really, you just needed a spark plug to get our engine going. Not that you were going to be going anywhere other than to his apartment to start your new life.  

He tsk at the thought. If only she knew to check under the hood more often. 

Ah well. Lesson learned. Future planned. Girl secured.   

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