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rieamena · 1 month ago

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THE GUN WOULD GO OFF ᝰ.ᐟ

꩜ if someone asked hugo, being inside or eating her out, he'd simply respond, the gun would go off.

꩜ tokyo override. hugo x reader

smut. it's smut. minors + ageless blogs do not interact.

wc: 0.95k

riea's comments: can you tell i write for myself. "yes riea! we know that!" oh okay just making sure yall knew. anyways i love tokyo override and this BADDIE hugo. i need to have his babies. tied him down to my queeeeeen beeeeddddddddd. everyone watch tokyo override please and thank you. end tweet.

hugo, who is definitely an eater. morning, noon, evening, and night, twenty-four seven, three sixty five. on the list of the things he loves most, having his face between your legs, thighs squeezing around his head, while three of his fingers push in and out of you with his tongue lapping at your clit, has to make the top ten. bringing you to your—i don't know, he lost count—fifth? orgasm in minutes with another one building up at record speed makes his mind swell just thinking about it. the warm embrace of your folds and hearing the moans slip from your throat causes him to groan straight into your cunt, a wet spot forming on the crotch of his pants.

hugo, who is vocal, very vocal. let me tell you. listen to me when i say. top three moaners and he's not two or three. this man needs your fingers in his mouth or else the other side of japan is going to hear him. don't get me wrong, he's quiet when he needs to be, but he doesn't want to be. what better way to let you know how good you feel wrapped around him than with sounds of pleasure? and he knows it turns you on. it'll just be you two in the garage, he'll stub his toe or something, and a damn near pornographic moan fills the air. or it'll be late at night and your phone lights up with four consecutive notifications from "hugo <3" and it's three videos of his beefy hand wrapped around his cock, jerking it while his heavy breaths and whines of your name along with sweet everythings (because he doesn't like the term sweet nothings) take center stage of the homemade porno. the fourth message? "missing you so bad."

hugo, who loves to be used by you. he'll swing by your place after a couple deliveries and repairs, hobbling up the stairs as you drag him by his belt loop. he crashes onto your bed, eyes wide as he watches your shirt slip over your head and puddle on the floor. "clothes off." you say, pulling your lounge pants down and stepping out of them. "what's wrong baby? wanna talk about it?" hugo leans on your headboard, his chest and abs visible through his shirt. "now." he scrambles to get rid of his clothes, giving you a lightning speed "yes ma'am." he settles back on the bed with his hands folded over his lap, looking at you expectantly. you climb on top of him, pussy sinking down on his dick. his size never failed to impress you: big, long, and thick??? something's off in the matrix. "talk to me sweetheart." he forced out, fighting back heavy gasps. you continued bouncing, pressing kisses to his forehead, "shhhh, i'll tell you later." later being when you've got him face down ass up, hole wrapped around your strap. "how. fucking. rude. is that." thrusts matching the pauses in your sentence. "so rude. why would—mmmm—he do that? just a—fuuuck—a man with no morals." hugo's your personal fucktoy.

hugo, who finds your touch addictive. everybody needs a little stress release, right? so it's no surprise when he comes to you, a certain expression on his face. within minutes, his mouth is latched onto your breasts, his dick is in your hand, and he's got multiple hickeys all over his body. and if you needed to get up for something across the room? hugo'll just use the strap of your panty to pull you right back down and place your hand right back on his shaft. "not right now darlin', not right now."

hugo, who is surprisingly shy when it comes to sex. y'all would be having your banter and he'll be like "or what? you gonna suck me off?" and then be on the verge of tears and so incredibly embarrassed—going as far as to need his hands to hide his furious blush—when you pull his pants down and suck him off. and speaking of banter, there's also…

hugo, who has the self control of a saint. there's a little game you two like to play called how horny can i get you before you're practically begging me to fuck you. rules of the game: participants cannot touch each other, aaaand that's about it. you two truly learn the power of words after a couple rounds of this. because why is he whispering—right into your ear, mind you—about how much he needs to spend a weekend with you sat pretty on his face. fuck a vacation, this is the vacation. but when he goes low, you go lower. "you think during that weekend we could do something with that bike of yours? fucking your favorite girl on your most prized possession, hm? how does that sound, hugo?" he physically takes a step back, turns away from you, and says that he needs to go on a walk. because how has that not crossed his mind once?!?!? making love to his love on his (less important) love. having you bent over the seat as he buries his face in your pussy or as he takes you from behind or both of you on the seat with your ass propped up and his cock deep inside. yeah, he's spiraling.

hugo, who is the king of dry humping. no, you cannot change my mind. he'll bring you to seven orgasms but when it comes to him, he is perfectly content with just grinding on you. bending you over, holding your waist and connecting his hips to your ass, all while clothed. shit, even the image of the outline of your cunt is enough to get this man off. he's whipped.

#— ❀ rieamena writes!#rieamena #riea #hugo tokyo override #tokyo override #hugo x reader tokyo override #hugo x reader tokyo override smut #hugo x reader #everyone watch tokyo override #idc #idgaf #tokyo override smut #tokyo override x reader

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becertainlust · 1 month ago

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COMPANY pt.1 | Spoke

synopsis: Bring your girlfriend to work day.

The scent of motor oil and warm steel clung to the air, mingling with the distinct musk of leather and sweat. The shop wasn’t busy today—just the hum of neon lights and the occasional clatter of a wrench as Spoke worked on a half-assembled bike.

You perched on a worktable, legs swinging idly, watching him with rapt attention. He was in his element, sleeves pushed up, forearms streaked with grease.

"Aren't you going to be bored?" Spoke asked, glancing at you before turning back to the skeletal frame of the motorcycle.

You tilted your head, a smirk playing on your lips. "Not with this view."

He let out a short chuckle, shaking his head as he wiped his hands on an old rag. "Well, aren’t you flirtatious today?"

You shrugged, playful. "Maybe I just like seeing you work."

Spoke exhaled, rolling the lollipop between his lips before tossing the wrench into the toolbox. "Yeah? You like watchin’ me get my hands dirty?"

Your gaze dipped, taking in the grease-streaked lines of his forearms, the way his shirt clung to his frame, damp with sweat. "Something like that."

The air in the shop seemed to thicken as Spoke casually peeled his shirt off, tossing it aside with a practiced ease. The low light caught the faint glint of muscle beneath his skin, and you couldn’t help but linger on the way his back flexed with each movement.

"I'm back with the food!" Hugo’s voice boomed through the garage. He appeared from around the corner, several bags in hand, followed by Watari and Kai, both carrying drinks and more food.

The charged silence shattered. You blinked, quickly shifting your focus as if the moment had never existed. The heat in the air dissipated, replaced by the easy familiarity of their arrival.

Hugo flashed a grin as he set the bags down, his gaze flicking between you and Spoke. "Don’t tell me I’m interrupting something. Spoke lookin’ like a snack again?"

Spoke, unbothered, shot him a sidelong glance but didn’t respond. His attention was already back on the bike, his posture relaxed, rolling the lollipop between his lips with absent ease as he wiped his hands on a rag.

You smirked, rolling with the shift in energy. "Maybe you’re just late," you teased, grabbing a drink from one of the bags.

Watari bumped Hugo’s shoulder with a roll of her eyes. "Move it, nosy nelly," she muttered.

Kai chuckled, setting the last of the bags on the table. "Yeah, quit being nosy."

You slid off the worktable, making your way over as Watari opened one of the larger brown paper bags. The rich scent of food spilled into the air, pushing aside the lingering motor oil.

The air in the shop seemed to thicken for a moment, but before it could settle, Spoke grabbed a clean shirt from a nearby stool and pulled it over his head in one fluid motion. The fabric stretched momentarily before settling into place, obscuring the toned lines of his torso.

You slid off the worktable, making your way over as Watari opened one of the larger brown paper bags. The rich scent of food spilled into the air, pushing aside the lingering motor oil. The moment had passed—but you couldn’t deny the ghost of a smirk still playing at your lips.

Everyone settled in, pulling up stools and crates around the makeshift dining area. Hugo passed out sandwiches wrapped in brown paper, while Kai popped the lids off a few glass bottles of soda, the soft hiss of carbonation filling the space.

"You actually got my order right for once?" Watari teased, unwrapping her sandwich and inspecting its contents.

Hugo scoffed, taking a dramatic bite of his own. "Of course. I’m reliable."

Spoke leaned against the worktable, his shirt now slightly wrinkled but still fitting him well. He bit into his sandwich with one hand while the other lazily twirled the lollipop stick between his fingers. His eyes flicked toward you briefly before returning to his food.

You took a sip of your drink, letting the cool fizz settle on your tongue. "So what’s the plan after this?"

Kai shrugged. "Depends. Shop’s closed early today. We could head to the docks. Might be a good breeze."

Watari hummed in thought. "Or we could just stay here. I like the sound of not moving."

Hugo grinned. "That’s because you’re lazy."

She pointed a fry at him. "Efficient."

"Right" Hugo drawled, sipping on his drink.

The conversation drifted into easy chatter, the kind that only came with familiarity. The warmth of the meal, the company, and the lingering scent of grease and steel wrapped around you. And through it all, your eyes found Spoke again—casual, collected, rolling the lollipop between his fingers like he had all the time in the world.

You pushed off from your seat and wandered toward him, stepping into his space as he remained perched on the worktable. Resting a hand on his thigh, you leaned in slightly, catching his attention.

"What kind of juice did you get?" you asked, your voice laced with curiosity.

Spoke glanced at you, the corner of his lips quirking as he lifted his bottle. "Pineapple," he replied simply, taking a slow sip before meeting your gaze again. "Want a taste?"

You tilted your head, watching him take another slow sip. The way his lips lingered against the rim of the bottle sent a flicker of something warm through your chest—not that you’d admit it.

"Maybe," you mused, reaching out before he could react. Your fingers brushed against his as you took the bottle from his grasp, feeling the cool glass against your palm.

Spoke didn’t protest. Instead, he simply watched, the faintest smirk dancing on his lips.

You took a sip, the tangy-sweet flavor of pineapple settling on your tongue, mixed with the faintest trace of something else—something undeniably him. Lowering the bottle, you met his gaze, your expression unreadable.

"Not bad," you said, handing it back.

Spoke’s fingers lingered against yours for half a second before he took the bottle, setting it beside him without another word. But his smirk deepened just a fraction, as if he’d caught onto something unspoken between you.

Before either of you could say anything else, Hugo’s voice cut through the moment.

"Oh, come on. If you two are gonna eye-flirt, at least be more subtle about it."

You shot him a flat look, but Kai snorted, and even Watari smirked behind her drink.

"You're seeing things," you said smoothly, leaning away from Spoke with an easy shrug.

Hugo waggled his brows. "Uh-huh, sure. And I don’t have impeccable instincts."

Spoke just took another bite of his sandwich, unfazed.

Kai leaned back in his seat, stretching his arms over his head. "Anyway, about the docks. If we’re going, we should head out soon before it gets too crowded."

Watari sighed, tossing her empty sandwich wrapper into one of the bags. "Fine, fine. But I’m calling dibs on the best seat."

"Doesn’t work like that," Hugo said, standing and stretching. "First come, first served."

You glanced back at Spoke. His gaze lingered on you for a second longer before he finally pushed off the worktable, lollipop still twirling between his fingers.

"will you be fine on your own?" he shoots the question to them, washing down the food with more juice. "I still have a few upgrades on the bike"

Watari pulls up her hair. "what about you" she smiled

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Not in the mood for running errands."

Hugo shot you a knowing grin but didn’t press. "Suit yourself. We’ll be back in a bit—try not to get into trouble kids"

You rolled your eyes as he and Kai stepped out, laughing between themselves. Watari lingered for a moment, giving you a long, considering look before she smirked. "we'll be back in a few."

With that, she turned and followed the others, the door swinging shut behind her.

The garage was suddenly quieter, the absence of chatter making the hum of the city outside seem distant. You turned back toward Spoke, who had barely acknowledged the exchange, still crouched by his bike, focused.

For a while, you didn’t say anything. You just watched—watched the way his hands moved with practiced ease, the way his fingers skimmed over metal, the furrow of concentration between his brows.

"You don’t have to stay," he finally said, voice even, but there was something underneath—something unreadable.

"I know," you replied simply, stepping forward. "But I want to."

Spoke exhaled softly through his nose, shaking his head as he wiped his hands on a rag. "Suit yourself," he murmured, but you didn’t miss the way his lips quirked slightly before he turned his attention back to the bike.

You settled onto the worktable, watching as he worked, the scent of grease and metal mixing with the faint, lingering sweetness of his lollipop.

For a while, the only sounds were the faint clinking of tools and the occasional soft scrape of metal against metal. The garage had a rhythm of its own—steady, methodical, almost soothing. You watched as Spoke adjusted something near the engine, his movements sure and precise.

"You always this focused when you work?" you asked, your voice breaking the silence.

Spoke didn’t look up. "It’s a machine. Give it what it needs, and it won’t fail you."

You tilted your head, studying him. "That why you like bikes?"

He finally glanced at you, another lollypop rolling between his lips. "Something like that."

There was something about the way he said it—something that hinted at more, but he didn’t offer an explanation. Instead, he turned back to his work, tightening a bolt with a slow, deliberate twist.

You hopped down from the worktable, stepping closer. "Need help?"

He scoffed lightly but didn’t immediately dismiss you. "You know anything about bikes?"

"I know how to ride one," you said, crossing your arms. "That count?"

Spoke smirked, shaking his head as he handed you a wrench. "Hold this."

You took it, fingers brushing his as you did. His skin was warm, slightly rough with callouses from years of working with his hands. The brief touch sent a flicker of something through you, but you ignored it, watching as he gestured toward the frame.

"Here," he murmured, guiding your hand. "Tighten this bolt, but not too much, or you'll mess up the alignment."

You followed his instructions, turning the wrench carefully. Spoke watched, his gaze flicking between your face and the work you were doing.

"Not bad," he murmured.

You grinned. "High praise, coming from you."

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head before reaching for another tool.

The air between you felt different now—not as thick as before, but charged in a quieter way. You fell into a rhythm, passing him tools, watching him work, stealing glances when you thought he wasn’t looking.

#tokyo override x reader #tokyo override x spoke #tokyo override #tokyo override x you #tokyo override smut #spoke fluff

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