#you roll over a nail on a highway

[the-best-bagel]

why are tires so fucking expensive biting killing maiming

[tonycries]

Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl, Officers...

Synopsis. You don’t know what’s faster - how fast you were speeding down the highway, or how fast you’re on your knees for the hot officers that just so happen to pull you over.

Pairing. Officer! Gojo Satoru x Reader x Officer! Toji Fushiguro

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, police! au, unprotected, being pulled over, thréesome, eiffel tower, oral (female + male receiving), manhandling, dynamics, cúmplay, marking, they lowkey make it a competition, implied dp, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.0k

A/N. I don’t condone actually speeding y’all.

You were screwed. Completely and utterly screwed.

“Shit shit shit-” you hiss, eyes flitting to the flashing red and blue lights in your rearview mirror, sirens blaring behind you. The engine roared, pavement a blur beneath your tires - a stupid, spur-of-the-moment decision. You knew you were pushing your luck with your late night speeding, fueled by an empty highway and even emptier adrenaline. 

And, well, it seems like your little thrill-seeking caught up with you, quite literally, as you hastily pull over on the side of the road. Heart sinking when the police car parks right behind you - the final nail in your coffin. 

You heave out a steadying breath, trying to get your thoughts in order long enough to come up with an even slightly believable explanation. Why did you think this was a good idea, again?

Tap! Tap! Tap! 

Shit, in the heat of the moment you’d barely heard the heavy footsteps in the distance. Immediately snapping your head up to look at-

Oh.

Whatever flimsy excuse dies in your throat with just one glance at the officer knocking at your glass - the unfairly hot officer. Your face burns as you urgently roll down the window - partly out of necessity, and partly because you really wanted to see him better. Those snowy white locks, and- shit was that a dimple at the corner of the sly little smile curling his lips?

Twinkling gaze locked with yours, he rests an arm against the roof of the car - and you almost have to look away, your looming speeding ticket being the last thing on your mind at the way his arms flex so enticingly. Leaning down to smirk, “Ya have any idea how fast you were going, sweetheart?”

His voice was playful, and deep enough that it takes a second for you to find yours. Swallowing thickly, you bat your lashes innocently up at him, “Sorry, officer. I have no idea.” 

“Fast enough that’s for sure,” he huffs out a laugh, eyeing the way you squirm embarrassedly in your seat, “C’mon, license n’ registration, now.”

Fumbling through your glove compartment, heat rushes down your spine when his fingertips happen just brush against yours as you hand over the documents. While he looks them over, you take the moment to read his badge - Gojo. 

“Officer Gojo-”

“Satoru, m’not one for formalities.”

“Officer Satoru,” you press, words laced with just the right amount of flirtation. “I’m terribly sorry, I promise I didn’t know the speed limit.” And if it were any other moment then you’d be almost embarrassed at how you were fawning over him - but, well, one look at him and how could you resist?

“M’sure.” Not when he dips his head infinitely closer, hot breath fanning your face. Close - too close. And especially not when he mutters lowly, “Out.”

Which is how you found yourself strutting down the highway in a straight line, trying your very best not to tumble under the pressure of a looming Satoru.

“Keep walkin’.” And by God he was enjoying this a bit too much. Leaning against your car, arms crossed, and watching your every move. Stare so intense that a stupid little part of you couldn’t help but wonder whether his eyes lingered on you a bit too long to check for signs of drunkenness or something else. 

“Well,” Satoru’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, whirling around to catch him sweeping you one last time from head to toe. “Seems you’re not under the influence.” And you’ve barely let a smug smile make its way onto your face before he’s plowing on, “But m’still gonna have to write you up for speeding.”

“Oh come on.” you drag out, slightly whiny yet not desperate - at least, not yet. Leaning ever-so-slightly closer to him, making sure that the tight top you wore lets him see a perfect view of your breasts. “I really didn’t know.”

Eyes flickering down. Once. Twice. 

Success. 

But Satoru only raises his brows, muscles rippling as he crosses his arms over his chest. And by the twinkle of amusement in his gaze, you knew the smug bastard was doing this on purpose. “There are consequences for breaking the law, y’know~ Even for pretty lil’ things like you.”

Inching forward, “Can’t I just be let off with a warning, please?”

“And what makes you think you deserve one?”

Something hot, and prickly coils in your stomach at his tone. “Oh I dunno…” you trail off, so close now that there was only a hair’s breadth between your two. You could feel the heat of his body at this proximity, and it was making your head spin. “I’m sure I can convince you I do.”

Satoru huffs out a laugh, grinning, “Not me, pretty girl.” And you’ve barely registered the words before the police car door slams again, and he’s nodding his head somewhere behind you. “He’s the one that’ll be writing your ticket.”

Oh? Oh, shit. 

Heart stopping, you whirl around to meet a matching, sly little smirk. “Meet, Toji, sweetheart. My patrol partner, of sorts.”

And in the dim lighting, you could make out how unfairly handsome he was. A bit older, uniform hugging him so sinfully tight - all dark hair and rugged, dangerous authority as he skims over your license. “Your superior.” the rough baritone of the newcomer’s voice sent shocks right down to your core. 

“Semantics.”

“What’ve we got here?” Toji asks, tilting his head, unabashedly drinking in the sight of you just as his colleague did. “Skipping out on your duties again, brat?”

“Of course not. Just that this one,” Satoru starts. And your skin burns at the way he addresses you, words dripping with a mean little tone as if you were nothing but a plaything, “Says she didn’t know the speed limit, and wants to get off easy.”

“‘Get off easy’, huh?” Toji hums thoughtfully. “Don’t know if we can do that, doll.”

“Mhm, the old man’s right for once. Can’t put our jobs at risk, y’know?”

But oh you’d never be fooled by their little act, you catch the way their eyes meet, a silent understanding stirring between the two. You bite your lips coyly, holding back a smirk as you unhurriedly reach out to pull Toji in by his collar. His knee between your legs, your back falling against Satoru’s front, strong arms steadying you by the shoulders. “Are you sure?”

You could feel his heartbeat quickening, as was the latter’s, toned chest rumbling at the way his partner grits out a hoarse, “Positive.” Shit, they make it so easy. 

Sandwiched between both men now, you whisper - low enough that they have to strain their heads closer to hear, “But I promise I’ll be a good girl, officers.”

Toji’s lips are on you before you know it - so hot and just as messy as you thought the man would be. One hand around your throat, squeezing lightly as he licks at the seam of your mouth. Such a desperate clash of lips and saliva as he bullies his tongue inside to intertwine with yours.

He tastes almost minty, with the slight taste of something so intoxicating that you don’t even realize you’re pushing down on Satoru, grinding in mindless little motions. At least, not until he’s gripping tightly at your hips, shifting your ass ever-so-slightly to graze against his swollen cock. 

That makes you gasp and pull apart, tiny strings of saliva snapping as you look behind at Satoru. Feeling him, so big, so hot behind you - even through his uniform. 

“Is that-”

“Shh, focus on what you’re doing, pretty girl.” he chuckles darkly. Breath ghosting your ear as a hand comes up to squish your cheeks together, forcing you to face forward. “Wouldn’t wanna make my dear supervisor here mad, huh?”

And it takes everything in you to take your mind off of how massive Satoru felt underneath you. Damp, and throbbing behind you, a wet little patch right where his angry tip was. 

The only thing that actually snaps you out of your little reverie is Toji’s voice, husky, and dangerously sweet. “I gotta say, m’feeling left out.” he sighs mockingly, fingers tightening around your throat. “And after I’m the one supposed to be writing you up? How rude.” 

You meet his eyes, half-lidded and looking at you hungrily. He liked this - seeing you all breathless and needy, so eager to please.

“M-m’sorry-” you squirm in their iron grasp.

“Now now, ‘sorry’ won’t always cut it.” Toji gives a soft, playful little smack to your ass, before addressing the other man. “Whaddaya say we do about that, brat?” 

You look up at Satoru pleadingly, only to be met with a dark chuckle. Shit, if anything, you thought that he would be the nicer of the two - but that stupid little illusion falls apart with every word that falls from his lips. And oh how he enjoyed watching your slow, dawning realization that no you weren’t going to get mercy from either of them. “Guess we should teach her some manners, huh?”

“I dunno…I don’t think her slutty lil’ pussy will learn, though.”

That felt like a slap to the face - one that had your dripping cunt quivering in- fear? Anticipation? You really couldn’t give a fuck right now, not when they’re talking over you like you’re some object. Not when Toji’s shoving his knee deeper in-between your thighs, rocking your hips lightly. You whine, “P-please. I want to.”

“Want to what? C’mon now, use your words like a big girl.” It’s Satoru now, teasing you as you hesitate in giving into what you really want. 

Your voice cracks pathetically, at the embarrassing admission. Being stuck between these two men way too much for you to handle. “I want…” 

“Say it, sweetheart.”

“Wan’ to be fucked by you both. Have you teach me some m-manners.”

And then it happens. 

Your back hits the cushion before you even realize what’s happening, sinking into your car backseat as the two officers shut the door behind you. Satoru sits on one side, while Toji pushes down the front seats on the other. Cramped, heady - and exactly where you wanted to be right now. 

Shit, when did they even open the car door? You don’t have half the mind to wonder, because neither of them waste any time. Immediately groping your tits - your waist - your thighs, everywhere and anywhere they could reach. 

Satoru’s kissing you now - drinking you in like you were his favorite taste. And you just think he might be yours, so sweet, like those cheap lollipops you saw at convenience stores. Drinking in your breathless gasps as Toji begins unbuttoning your top, letting it fall to God-knows-where and-

“Fuuuck.” he lets out a low whistle, “Kid, look at this.”

With an almost-pained grunt, Satoru’s pulling away. Eyes widening as he takes in the sight of you - braless, and exposed so shamefully for the both of them, of course. “No bra?” he mutters raspily. “Always knew you were a lil’ slut, doll.” But you knew by the way his breath hitches that he liked it. 

And Toji did too, if the way his fingers danced along your hardened nipples was anything to go by. “What did I tell you? Bet she’s got such a naughty pussy, too.”

Your head is spinning, both from his words and the way Satoru’s claiming your lips once again. Murmuring into your mouth, “Only one way to find out.”

And that’s all that is said before they’re all but ripping your skirt off your hips. The poor, flimsy fabric nothing against the two men that were now looking at your drenched panties in pure awe. 

In fact, Toji drops to his knees onto the car interior, face to face with your pretty pussy. Greedily drinking in the way your slick beads out so sloppily,  the way it glistens and clenches around nothing. Gaze heated enough that you’re embarrassed. 

“Ah ah-” Satoru tuts, seeing the way your bare thighs were trying to close - not letting yourself have even some semblance of dignity. “You said you’d be a good girl f’us, isn’t that right, old man?”

“Mhm, s’what she said.”

Shit, you can do nothing but have your legs wrestled open, Satoru’s fingers sliding so delicately underneath your panties. “You heard him, pretty.” Index sliding up and down, up and down up and- grazing your swollen folds, all the way from your base, stopping just below your throbbing clit. Tease. “So why don’t we let officer Toji here get a good look at how wet your pretty lil’ cunt is?”

Neither man waits for your answer - of course, they don’t.

Rip! 

Several things happen at once, you barely have the time to react before Satoru’s holding your panties in his fist, tattered and soaked with your slick. Your mouth drops open in disbelief as he dangles it like a badge of honor, holding it up, up, up, only to breathe in your scent obscenely. “Fuck, you even smell like the perfect angel.”

Toji - taking the opportunity - dives face-first into your pussy. Groaning at the taste - you were so sweet, so addictive on his tongue. Licking lazily up your swollen folds, letting your sweet sweet juices get all over his face as he buries himself nose-deep. 

“Oh!” you gasp, fisting his locks in your hands, “Shit shit shit-” Toji was in eating you out, exactly as he was with kissing - sloppy. Unabashed. Letting his tongue move so messily all over your cunt, while his colleague held you still. Letting him devour you as he pleased. 

“Shhh, don’t worry, sweetheart.” Satoru whispers into your ear, every cute lil’ whine of yours going straight to his painfully hard cock. 

And, well, Satoru can’t just sit here and watch Toji have you all to himself, now. Can he? Which is why he begins playing with your sensitive nipples. Twirling his hot tongue around one, rolling the other between his fingers.

Drunk off your moans and the way you’re so overstimulated by both men. Unable to decide between where your body wants to focus on - grinding down on Toji’s relentless mouth or leaning towards Satoru’s. And it’s driving you mad. 

“Hngh- fuck- Feel’s good.” you whine, bucking your hips wildly.

“Yeah? Ya like this?” Toji speaks first, words muffled around your clit. Sucking and rolling his tongue harshly across it. Over and over. Strangely in time with the quick, maddening little circles that Satoru licks around your nipples. 

Being ruined like this from both ends was way too much - so you can only nod deliriously. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. Letting Toji throw your legs over his shoulders, looking so fucking gorgeous in-between your legs like he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Brows furrowing in bliss as he tilts his head back, back, back so that your juices slide down his throat. “Shit.” Lapping even faster at your pussy. “Could get used to this.”

And let it be known that Gojo Satoru was a jealous man, because he pulls away from your tits with a lewd pop! Grunting sulkily, “Move over. Wan’ taste her cute pussy, too.”

Either Toji doesn’t hear him over the lewd little squelches coming from down below, or he ignores it - probably the latter. Continuing to make out with your cunt so messily. 

But Satoru was nothing if not persistent, snaking down a hand to gather your slick on his fingertips. Immediately shoving them in his mouth and oh- You watch blearily as his eyes roll to the back of his head, sucking his fingers clean like a man possessed. 

“Oh- fuck.” his mouth drops into a soft oh! Leaning forward like he wanted to kiss you senseless, only to halt and shuffle off the carseat. Because he wanted to make out with your cunt more. Dropping to the ground beside Toji, Satoru gives him a minute shove, “Move. M’not letting you be the only one to taste this heavenly pussy.”

“Hah- ya think you can eat her out the way she deserves, brat?” Licking at your inner thigh, “Lemme show you how a real man does it.”

“Watch and learn, old man.” Both men push your legs as far apart as they’d go, spreading you so shamefully for them. You reel from the stretch and the sinful sight below you. 

Because immediately, they’re making out hungrily with your cunt together. Sloppily and needy - tongues bumping into each other, intertwining, burying their faces between your legs as they eat you out like a little competition. Satoru’s licking up and down your slit, pooling your slick on his tongue, while Toji’s wrapping his pretty lips around your ravaged clit. 

“Sh-shit. Satoru- Toji. Ah! M’so close.” you squirm as they moan into your wet cunt, the vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running up your spine. Drinking in your little whimpers like they were addicted. 

“Like this?” Satoru groans. “Feels good being eaten out by the both of us?”

The car fills with your breathy moans, and it’s hard to speak with the way they’re alternating between flicking your clit and squeezing your tongue through your swollen folds. Stretching you out, thrusting at a frenzied pace - you don’t even know who is who at this point. Just getting off with a needy, “Ngh- fuck, yes yes yes- Feels s’good!”

“Like being our little whore, doll?”

Maybe it was Toji’s words - so filthy even when he was calling out to you sweetly. Or maybe it was the way Satoru was grinding his jaw as he plunges his soft tongue deeper into your plushy walls. Probably it was how they both looked at you - like you were their last meal. 

Because you’re cumming, and cumming so messily all over their mouths. “Shit. S’too much. Ah-”

And neither man stops - almost like it was difficult to part. Letting you drag your sloppy pussy incoherently all over while they continue to flick and dip their tongues. Big, fat tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation.

“Heh, you’re gonna make her cry.” Satoru grins, as he finally parts. Your slick glossing so prettily all over the bottom half of his face - and his partner wasn’t any better. Rising from in-between your thighs looking very decidedly not sorry for eating you out till you cry. 

You watch, speechless, as Toji swipes a thumb over his lips, watching in wonder the way it becomes sticky with your juices. “Could get used to this all over m’face, right?”

“Mhm.” the other man hums, absentmindedly fumbling with his shirt. Revealing smooth, milky skin - he was so deliciously sculpted, all toned muscled and a slutty waist that made your mouth water. Shit, he was a masterpiece. 

But Satoru - that impatient bastard - doesn’t even give you the time to admire the entirety of him before he’s unbuckling his belt. “Though I think she’d look better with something else.”

You gasp as he pulls down his pants, tugging just enough that his swollen cock springs out. Absolutely massive and such an angry red, weeping tip dripping all the way down his length. He was so long - the type of long that had you knowing that won’t be walking properly tomorrow. 

“How crude.” Toji titters, but shit how he loved the way you seemed so cockdrunk from the mere sight of Satoru’s dick. It almost made some tiny part of him jealous. 

“Whatever, dibs on her cunt,” Satoru grunts, one hand moving to toy so messily with your dripping entrance. Pointedly ignoring the heated glare thrown his way by Toji, and the way he begins rolling your clit between two fingers. Almost like a little standoff - with you stuck in the middle. 

Toji breaks first, “M’your superior, I should be the one to fuck her pretty pussy.”

“Aw come on.” the other man whines, and it would almost be comical if it wasn’t for the way his long fingers were massaging your hot core. “Think of it as a ah- learning experience. After all, who knows whether you’d hurt yourself trynna fuck her the way I can.”

“You mouthy little-”

“Now, pretty girl, let’s see if y’can walk the talk.”

And oh you should’ve known better than to think you’d be stuffed inside the backseat of a car with two police officers without them throwing you around like a rag doll. 

Immediately, Toji’s manhandling you, fingers digging into your waist as he pushes you on all fours. Lining his aching bulge right in front of your soppy mouth, saliva seeping into his pants. 

Well, there was no use wearing soiled clothing, right? You watch, cunt clenching in anticipation as he shoves down his pants in record speed. 

Oh, the universe was playing a joke on you - because Toji was just as big. If a bit thicker where Satoru was longer. Prominent veins glistening in the dim light, precum dripping all the way down to the maintained tufts of black at his base.

Shit, your eyes flit between the intimidatingly big cocks. One in front of you, grazing his fat tip across your lips, and the other positioned right over your sloppy entrance. You weren’t going to make it out alive. 

“Having second thoughts?” Toji scoffs, edging his hips closer. Greedily taking in how fucking pretty you looked with his precum glossing your mouth, messy and dripping down to your chin. “Wan’ tap out?”

You barely even have to your head “no” - because Satoru’s answering for you. Spreading your pussy lips with his thumb, taking one, long look before chuckling, “Course not. Y’should see the way her needy cunt is sucking my thumb up.”

“Well then. Guess we’ll get to the real fun.”

With that, Toji’s stuffing himself into your mouth. A low hiss leaving the back of his throat as you take him so well, lips bulging around his thick cock. Tonguing at the sensitive slit in a way that makes him lose his mind. 

Not even giving your a proper warning as he pushes in inch by fucking inch, watching you choke and gag around him. Not stopping till he’s got your nose pressed all the way against his toned pelvis. “Shit, relax yer throat. Fuck, ah- just like that, doll.”

And if you thought he was mean then you weren’t prepared for Satoru at all - not with the way he was immediately squeezing his thick head into your snug cunt. Head thrown back as your heavenly walls can’t decide between pushing him out or milking the fucking soul out of him. 

“S’tight, fuckin’ love this pussy.” Satoru gasps, jaw clenched, trying not to just fuck recklessly into your cunt until you’re drunk on his cock. But God is it difficult to keep his sanity when all he gets in response from you is a choked, wet gurgles. Body bowing into both of theirs as you desperately try to relax both your throat and your cunt. 

“Gonna stand around waitin’ or am I gonna have to ruin her pretty pussy for you?” Toji taunts, voice strained as he begins thrusting in quick, harsh strokes into your hot mouth. “Talked big, huh, kid?”

“Fuck off.”

And Satoru’s never one to lag behind. After all, he did graduate at the top of his batch at the academy - he can’t lose face in front of you or his annoying superior either. 

So he tightens his grip on your hips, hard enough that he’s pretty sure it bruises. Pushing down on your spine to arch your back deeper onto his cock.  “I dunno.” he drawls, “What do you think, sweetheart? Want me to fuck into this tight lil’ pussy? Ruin you on my cock?” 

Of course, the only response he gets is a low, wet moan. Luckily, both men understand it as a loud, resounding “yes”. 

“Awww, look at her- hah- Cock-drunk little slut can’t even speak.” It’s the last thing that spills out of Satoru’s mouth before he’s pushing past that tight ring of resistance. No care or concern for your poor pussy because shit his thoughts were too mangled with how heavenly you felt around him. 

“You got this, pretty.” he whispers, fucking into you in small, shallow little thrusts just to fit himself inside you. “Take me all like the good girl you are.”

And oh were you such a good girl for him - Satoru thinks he could almost cum on the spot as he finally bottoms out. Sucking up his cock so fucking sinfully as his heavy balls smacking your ass, already so wet with your slick and his precum. 

“There ya are.” Toji hums, the image of you choking on his cock while you struggle to take Satoru’s making his head absolutely spin. He can’t stop himself from leaning down and kissing hotly down your spine, making you buck and gag deeper around his dick. In the haze of it all, he catches Satoru’s amused gaze. Spitting out, “What?”

“Softie.”

“Oh, shut up. You can’t even handle her pussy.”

And Satoru took that personally, because he’s reeling his hips back, back, back - all the way till his angry, weeping tip just kissed you sloppy holes. “M’gonna show you, softie.” Body moving before his mind, he starts fucking into your pretty cunt recklessly. Hands groping all over your body possessively, hips moving in rough, harsh thrusts fueled by pure need and the urge to ruin you. Over and over-

Toji only smiles at the little show, your garbled whines every time Satoru hits your poor cervix going straight to his cock - quite literally. And if he angled his head just right, he could see the way your cute cunt was stretching obscenely. Barely-lucidly, he wonders whether your throat would bulge around his just as much. 

He taps your cheek, signaling you to blink those pretty eyes so tearily up at him. Balls squeezing painfully, he really can’t help but pump his cock into you faster, matching Satoru’s merciless cadence - ruining you from both sloppy holes. “Sorry, doll. Gotta big ego, so we can’t be outdone, now, can we?”

And then it’s like something snaps because suddenly every movement becomes sloppier, more erratic. Toji’s got a hand around your throat, feeling each thrust as he ruins your gorgeous face. Abs flexing each time he drags your lips on his cock up and down up and down up and- like some toy.

Satoru wasn’t any nicer either - becoming so fucking messy as he fucks you from behind like he was claiming his win. Faster, sloppier. 

Biting his lip at the way your ass jiggles each time his hips snap into yours. Pulling you back by the hair to bounce you like some little slut from both ends. And, maybe if you were in any better state of mind you’d have said something about the way they were using you like their favorite fucktoy - but right now you were so close. Dangerously close. It was too much. 

And they probably feel it because suddenly Toji’s leaning down, murmuring hotly against your ear, “S- fuck. Ngh- Close?”

“Fuck, I can feel it too.” Satoru voices from behind, so hoarse with desire, “Suckin’ me up so hah- t-tight it’s almost hard to fuck her.” It’s his cue to reach down deftly and start toying with your ravaged clit, still so sensitive and sore from before. Drawing erratic little circles on it, pinching with his fingers. 

You’re letting out throaty, muffled moans of their names, making Toji’s hips stutter. Holding you still as his aching balls smack your ass. “Hngh- shit. Keep doin’ that, brat, this one here loves it.” 

“What did I tell ya? S’like this pussy’s made f’me.”

And if they couldn’t feel it then they certainly could see it. They could see the way you were getting messier, pussy dripping all over the carseat now. Mascara running down your face, saliva and precum trailing down your chin. Honestly, it was fucking hard to look at you without cumming right there, too. Because you looked completely and utterly fucked out. So close that it was almost painful. 

Maybe that’s why both men speed up their pace impossibly, no reason or rhyme. You feel a wolfish bite on your exposed neck - Satoru - fingers frenzied on your clit, thrusts stemming from such a carnal, depraved part of him. Falling out of sync with Toji as they get so sloppy with the goal to get you off - and get you off so hard that you can’t think about anything but them, them, them-

“Cum, doll.”

This orgasm is more obscene than the last. Far more. Because you honestly don’t even realize you’re cumming, not until you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and feeling Satoru and Toji slamming harshly into you. Once. Twice. Before spilling into you in unison. 

And it’s so much that you don’t even know if you can take it. 

Toji’s salty on your tongue, pumping thick, hot ropes of tongue into your mouth. Pulling out purposefully like the smug bastard he is to see his seed all messy and dribbling down your face. While Satoru’s much the opposite, keeping his twitching cock stuffed into your tight pussy while he paints your walls white. Not letting you waste a single drop.

But oh he didn’t mind when you finally pull yourself off of Toji’s dick. Cum smearing so sloppily all over your face, and shit he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked prettier. 

And Satoru really doesn’t mind when you look back and pull him into a kiss - Toji, too. If you can even call it that, a messy clash of teeth and tongue and cum. So much of it. Swirling and sucking on your tongue, bumping into each other. Just pure fucking filth. 

It gets Satoru’s dick so hard and throbbing all over again at how obscene it all was. Some weird little part of him is almost disappointed as Toji breaks the kiss - but not for long. Because his superior shifts, splaying himself out beneath you, while he pulls your limp body on top. 

Ah. Great minds really do think alike, he thinks as Toji drags his tip lazily all over your cunt. Pooling your juices on his fat head, grazing your poor, abused clit to where your sloppy pussy was quivering and still stuffed full of Satoru’s cock. Well, not like you didn’t have room for one more. Right?

It’s all you can do to babble deliriously, “W-wha-”

“Shhh, doll. We’ll take care of it.”

“After all, sweetheart, you did say you’d be our good girl…”

A/N. This got taken down the first time I posted it LMAO. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[munsster]

road trip (trope bingo)

A/N: thought i might try this format out. also introducing a new face to my tumblr repertoire. i’ve written marvel before, just never on this site. enjoy!! (gif creds: @bubbarnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: You think Bucky is shallow for rejecting a pretty stranger in North Dakota. Little do you know. 1.6k words

Warnings: fluff, dummies not talking about their feelings, pet names (doll), slight angst but resolved, perhaps mutual pinging, a really good hug, playful bullying, cursing

"Ooh, she's cute."

You've been doing this for over an hour. He's downed at least four coffees by now. And the worst part is you call it finding a suitable mate. But he's just not interested in the women you're scouting for him at a rest stop a few miles out from Fargo, North Dakota. He would've just left, gone and sat in the truck, but he'd feel bad leaving you rambling to yourself when you're the one paying for this meal.

"Come on, Buck, you're no fun," you huff, dropping your spoon into the thick mug now emptied of hot cocoa.

"You're right. Can we go now?" He starts to slide out of his seat when you scoff. He goes still like a deer in headlights. This should be fun.

"James Buchanan, you're telling me none of the lovely ladies in this diner tickle your fancy? Not even third barstool? She's tall, Buck, like... model tall," you suggest with your brows raised.

"I'm not... we're in North Dakota, you think that's what I'm lookin' for?"

"Just one date! You wouldn't take her on one, single date? The little bar across the street seems sensible, why not?"

"Um—"

"Tell meee," you whine, leaning over the sticky, vinyl tablecloth with a pout.

He shrugs. "Not my type."

"Bullshit. She's everybody's type. She's my type, Bucky. Are you blind or just plain stupid?"

"I'm not interested."

You pull a face like you're offended on her behalf. Bucky rolls his eyes and wishes you'd drop it.

"Oh, I get it," you say. Leaned back, arms stretched across the length of the seat, you huff and glare at him. "You think you're too good for her, huh? Just 'cause she's a North Dakota ten, and you're a Brooklyn eight, you think that makes you better, don't you?"

"What? An eight?" he mumbles, shaking his head.

"Ugh, you men gross me out sometimes. Massive egos, teensy little brains," you say, slapping a twenty on the table and standing with a vicious squint. "Well, let me learn you something, James"—you loom over him and poke your pointer finger at his chest—"you're shallow, and you're no better than her. You prob'ly couldn't take her out if you wanted to. Goodnight."

You huff and walk away, but he chuckles and calls after you: "It's noon, doll." Flipping him off, you march out into the parking lot. He considers the woman for a moment. You called him a Brooklyn eight. She's pretty, he'll admit, but he wasn't lying when he said he wasn't interested. Bucky's seen the far stretches of the Earth, which means he's seen women of all forms. Accountants and soldiers from all over, all professions, all languages. All beautiful. But nothing intrigues him quite as much as you do.

...

"Did you ask her out, or are you choosing to remain a coward?" You've got your boots propped on the dashboard, the truck bumbling eighty down the highway. An emery board swipes back and forth at your middle fingernail as you snap your bubblegum.

"Come on, doll, play nice. We're leavin' anyway, didn't want to hurt her feelings," he grumbles.

"Tough. Doesn't make you any less of a pussy, Barnes."

You flick the nail file at his cheek and drop your feet heavily on the hot car mat. You called him a Brooklyn eight. You cringe at the remembrance while Bucky revels in it. He even grinned stupid all the way back to the parking lot. To himself, but still. He hates how deep under his skin you are. He hates how he likes the itch.

His tongue twists with all the things he could have said. He should have said. But he grips the steering wheel tight and drives till you cross the border into Minnesota.

"Wanna go anywhere before Wisconsin? They've got... lakes here," he shyly suggests, voice soft, hoping you'll just ignore him and turn up the radio. He doesn't think you'll ever ignore him, even if he did prefer it.

"Only if I could push you into one of them."

"Listen, kid—"

"Kid? That's great, Bucky. It's getting dark, why don't we just find a motel." You cross your arms. The cold is getting to you. Even in a down jacket and two pairs of pants. It gets like that up north.

He does what you tell him because the last thing he needs is for you to hold another grudge against him. This one's quaint, so he gets the last double available, chuckling nervously when the older woman at the front desk mistakes you for a married couple.

"Sure you don't want a single, honey? Not gettin' any kids outta separate beds—"

"Nope—thanks, miss—that's—double is fine, double's perfect, thanks," he huffs. You chuckle.

She gives a rolling, belly laugh, head tossed back as she croaks, "Won't file any noise complaints against youse! Have a fun night."

"Geez, she was great," you sigh, still smiling from the ridiculous interaction. You flop face down onto the bed closest to the window, rattling the ice from the crevices in your boots. It crunches to the floor and you wriggle out of your coat as Bucky locks himself into the pale yellow bathroom.

He starts mumbling from the other side of the door, so you sit up and toe your boots onto the floor with a thud. Digging your fingertips into the edge of the hastily tucked sheets, you stare at a wine stain in the middle of the beige carpet. At least it smells nice in here. Even if half the lights are out, and cable doesn't come through clear enough to watch.

You find yourself, cheek pressed to the door, eyes wide as you listen through the flimsy wood.

"I don't think so, Steve. No, listen, it's like... beyond repair. She wouldn't take an apology even if I knew what i was sorry for—no—she's way too good for me, I can't do that to her."

Still moping over women found in North Dakota's lowest rated diners? That's highly unlike him. But even Bucky's a wildcard six-thousand miles into a roadtrip. You press closer, chewing your lip and closing your eyes.

"No, no, everything—this stuff's easier for you, pal, you don't get it, 'kay? I'm just saying... I mean, even a stranger thought we were married"—What—"has to mean something, right? Even strangers are realizing... there's something... there. I just don't want to accidentally—no, I know, not like that, I mean...well, I like her a lot and I don't want it to scare her—"

You back up slightly, hands held in front of you like surrender. Not out of fear, but realization. That's why he didn't ask her out. Or even fish for her number. Because—

You hit the floor with a thump.

"Steve. I gotta go."

The door whips open and floods the room with warm light. You scramble to your feet.

"Were you... I was just talking to... Did you hear any of that?"

You shake your head. He shoves his hands into the shallow pockets of his jeans.

"Okay," he says with a nod, "good." He blows hot air out of his mouth and runs a swift hand through his hair. But he doesn't meet your eyes. Like a little kid so terrified of fibbing that he'd rather swim deeper into the abyss than float to the surface. Can't catch his damn breath around here.

"So..."

"Goodnight, Bucky!" you chirp, turning on your heel with a whoosh of air. And he stops you in your tracks, hand on your bicep. You don't turn back around, stuck staring at the foot of your bed.

"Doll," he whispers, roped up by fear and a pinch of self-pity. Attending his own funeral with a sick smile on his face. "Just how much did you hear."

You spin on the balls of your feet, going hot in the face, fueled by the electricity at his fingertips. "A lot."

"Oh."

You nod and try your best non-psychotic smile. "Sorry."

"No, no... don't be," he says, trying his own. So you're just a couple of smirking idiots at a stalemate in a stale motel room. A couple of idiots with feelings for each other. Unresolved feelings. Unspoken, too.

"I actually—could I?" You point behind him into the cramped bathroom, and he lets go of you like it's his last move before you put him in check. Before he has to hand you the game. Though, he'd do that in a heartbeat. Every game of his is yours. "Thanks."

"No problem." He shuts his eyes when you close the door with a calculated tenderness. Like you don't want to frazzle his poor heart.

But then why would you open the door again? Why would you wrap your arms around his waist and nuzzle into his back? Why would you make it all so much worse and spread your fingers over his abdomen, taking a deep breath when he runs his hand down your forearm and turns to face you. Then you melt with his strong arms holding you thisclose.

"Like you a lot, too, Barnes. You're just a big dunce a lot of the time. But that's like... half the draw or whatever," you mumble into his shoulder. And you've never been this close, and he thinks he could pass out. Become a chalk outline in a dusty motel in Minnesota. But if it happened like this, he'd be okay with that statistic.

marvel masterlist

[bengals-barnesbabe]

The Girl Behind the Camera

Pair: Joe Burrow x Videographer!Reader

Descr: When The Bengals hire a new social media manager, people start to notice a certain QB coming out of his shell.

TW: mentions of sex, nudity, gossip, racism, classism, invasion of privacy, protective boyfriend!Joe.

Main Masterlist

WC: 2083

*. * ·┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧

"Which of your teammates would you rather be stranded on a deserted island with for 72 hours?"

Was the question being asked on the way out from practice. From behind the black and white jerseys Joe could hear the bouts of laughter from each answer. Most of his more outgoing teammates thoroughly enjoyed walking up to the woman with the camera on a day to day basis, while others like him avoided making simple eye contact with her.

But today's Friday and Fridays are very special on this practice field. Not only do they have shorter practices but the recurring sports journalist major with a sometimes too sunny attitude, is replaced with the new silk press and brown glossy lips-wearing photographer that could stop him in the middle of the busiest highways just with her smile.

"Hey 9!" You beam as he approaches you with rosy cheeks. "Wanna hear today's question?"

I'd listen to anything coming from those pretty lips.

"Sure, whatcha got for me?" His eyes are solely focused on the way your glittery nails push back your dark brown locks and the movement of your lips rather than the content flowing from them.

He stands there motionless for a minute contemplating his answer, when in reality he just wanted to see how long you'd hold his gaze before squirming. 45 seconds is the current record.

"Joey, come on.."

25 seconds, he must look especially good today.

He smirks as your pout forms, or maybe he just likes giving you more work to do in the editing room (aka tonight at his place).

"Are you going to answer or should I shut off the camera?" A chuckle arises from his belly as you attempt to make an authoritarian stance with a smooth caramel leg jutted out and your glistening arms crossed over your chest.

Rolling your eyes at him, you start to ignore him and play around with the camera, before his voice interrupts you. "Alright, I'll answer. Only for you though."

He does his best to revert back to factory settings (aka grump mode as you like to call it) when you give him the go-ahead. "I guess, I'd take Ja'Marr. Hopefully, he doesn't get sick of me in 3 days."

You let out a cute giggle at his response recapturing his gaze from above the camera. He'd make it his life goal to keep that sound pouring from your plump lips.

So he adds to his answer. "Or I'd take my girlfriend, she loves beaches you know. She's kind of the yin to my yang." He smirks nodding to your necklace.

Flustered you try to cover your smile, before asking him a follow-up question. "Would you get on a boat to rescue her, if she somehow got trapped out at sea?"

"Of course, I would," he chuckles. "But then I'd ask where she found a boat in the first place and why she got in it when she doesn't like them either."

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

"Maybe she was just trying to find food for her quarterback boyfriend with a bottomless pit as a stomach." His entire body shakes with laughter as you smile accomplishedly behind the lens.

"That's cute, you know her or something?" You shrug, as he straightens up due to another presence approaching.

"Don't stop on my accord, you did great today J. And you Miss Thing, I can't wait to see the shots you got of my team out there." Coach Taylor praises walking past you, causing your faces to heat up.

"God, I don't know how much of this I can use." Your video voice sombers.

You watch as the orange jersey fills the frame until not even the 9 is visible. "Sounds like you have your work cut out for you. Kind of like how..." His low and teasing voice barely gets picked up on the audio. A shiver runs down your spine because you remember exactly what he said before walking out of view.

"Kind of like how you will when you get home tonight."

'And boy was he right, but not about the editing.' You think gawking at his body as he walks out of the bathroom, water dripping from his hair and shoulders down his nice pecs and delectable abs. His strong arms and toned abdomen are tinted red due to the steamy shower that's releasing vapor into the room.

"Still editing I see?" He asks teasingly as he ruffle-dries his hair with a microfiber towel. You painstakingly nod but push the laptop down and off your lap.

"It can wait." You say as your gaze drops down to the blonde happy trail that disappears underneath the towel secured around his waist. "It's not due til noon anyway."

"Good, I've been thinking about you laid out on my bed for me since we got home." A smirk curves up his lips when he notices your eyes fixated on the bulge of the fabric.

"Lucky me." Then the towel drops. Lucky me indeed.

✧ ⁺ . ° ➶ ｡˚ ✧

Eventually, the video does get edited and uploaded to social media like it's supposed to and your bosses thoroughly enjoy the impressions it brings to the organization.

You tried your best to edit out all of the parts that gave too much about your relationship away without completely taking Joe out of the video. You thought it did a great job, the final cut showed a very professional interaction between the two of you. Everyone was happy.

Until you started trending on Twitter almost 3 days later.

Something you didn't realize before becoming the Bengals' backup photographer/videographer and official social media manager was that your boyfriend rarely if ever participated in the post-practice videos. Anna, their main journalist, did mention that Joe liked to hide from cameras at practice, but you thought she was talking about paparazzi and overzealous fans. It wasn't until you went through every post-practice TikTok video that you realized that she was not kidding at all.

Currently, you are sitting wide-eyed on the couch watching a well-known YouTube gossip talk about your video and your relationship. She hadn't said the word dating yet, but by her analysis of the short clips- she was not very far from finding out.

"I think the key here is the woman behind the camera. Their conversation was short, but you could tell she could get him to say anything. And the way it's cut, oh my god. Anyone could tell that there was much more to this chat than we saw. Sadly, I couldn't find her socials, so the woman behind the camera wins this time."

You paused the video as soon as Joe's footsteps became apparent as he walked toward the area where you were sitting. "Hi, baby!" You cringe at the perky tone of your voice.

"Hi?" He says plopping down next to you and kissing your head. The lingering embarrassment makes your spine stiffen. Joe raises a brow in confusion. "Y/n, what's wrong?"

You huff and pout sinking into the couch cushions. "I kinda fucked up."

"How so?" He asks pulling your hands into his.

"Have you watched my video?" You whisper as if saying it aloud will anger the universe.

"No, but I heard it was doing well. Do you want me to pull it up?" You shake your head immediately. "What's wrong with the video?"

"You're in it." You mumble laying your head on his chest.

"Huh?"

"You hate attention, you hate cameras, and you literally hide from them when we're in public! And I put you in my video!" One of his hands lets go of yours and begins to stroke the back of your head.

"Baby, I put myself in-

"No, I forced you to do the one thing you've always set a boundary on. I'm a shitty girlfriend, I should've just ended it before you walked by or just kept the whole clip for myself."

"Y/n, listen."

"Joey I'm so sorry, everyone is talking about how you and 'the girl behind the camera' are probably a thing. They're probably digging up pictures of us in public at the moment and there's nothing I can do to stop it. All of your business is going to be aired out-

"I know-

"Reporters are going to start showing up to your practices, and paparazzi will be following us. It's a disaster- wait what did you say?" You sniffle pulling your head up to face him. And he's smiling?

"I know and I don't care. All I care about is that the most important woman in my life is safe and happy. That's you mamas." He says softly, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek.

"Wait but you've worked so hard to keep your private life- private and I should've respected that."

He shakes his head. "I wanted to be in that video because you were the one behind the camera. Even if we weren't dating, I would have been in that video and people would've had something to say about it. I did it because you make me happy and I love watching you work. In fact.." He takes his phone out and queues a video onto the TV screen.

"Joe, what is this?" You ask as he comes up in today's outfit looking like it was filmed when he left for work this morning.

"Just watch." He grins.

*In the video he’s seen smiling and taking pictures with fans before his morning meeting.

“Hey Joey B! Over here!” A young boy jumps up trying to get his attention.

Your boyfriend chuckles and shuffles over to the kid to sign his helmet. “Hi, how you doing bud?”

“I’m great! My sister’s sad that you have a girlfriend now though.” The kid vibrates with energy and excitement, very different than his sister who’s glaring at him from the side.

Joe just laughs, gives the kid a fist bump, and moves on to another fan.*

“Joe, you didn’t say anything. What is this supposed to prove?” You huff in confusion.

“I know, that’s just my favorite part. You just need to see what happens next.” He assured pushing your focus back to the TV screen.

*As Joe starts to wave bye to the crowd a swarm of paparazzi and journalists emerge.*

You immediately start to frown because this is exactly what he's been trying to avoid.

*The people behind the giant cameras ask him all kinds of outlandish questions, all of which he ignores until a question about you pops up.

“Joe, are you hiding your girlfriend because you’re ashamed of her career and her race?” He stops right outside the door to the facility and spots the woman who asked the question.

“What did you say?” His eyes squint and brows furrow in the same way as they do when people question his football fatality.

“Last night, the Bengals website updated their faculty and staff page. The only new social media manager was a black woman named Y/n. What other reason could you be hiding your relationship for?” She asks confidently sticking her camera in his space.

“Do you hear how fucking dumb you sound?” He says so calmly making all the eyes around him widen. Including yours as you watch the incredulous look on his face turn to a scowl.

“I’m hiding her from idiots like you guys who follow me around with cameras chasing the wrong narratives. Do you really think I want to hide the love of my life from the world? Cause I don’t, but I would rather us have a good relationship that’s private rather than a shitty one controlled by the media. Literally, look at what happened after one lighthearted joke got taken out of context! And to even comment that her race was an issue? What fucking year do you live in? I would love that woman no matter what she did or how she looked. And it shouldn't matter. All of you are ridiculous. Have a great day.” Then walked into the facility slamming the door behind him.*

When he looks back over at you, silent tears are falling from your eyes. “Shit was it too much.” He says panicked.

You shake your head with a chuckle then lean up to press a chaste kiss on his lips. “No, it was perfect. I love you so much, Joseph.”

He returns the sweet kiss and holds you close. “I love you more than anything Y/n. I’d do anything for you, never forget that.”

“I won’t.”

~●○°●○°●○~

a/n: sorta kinda inspired by @slimshiesty, if you know you know and you absolutely should know.

[halfrican-heat]

Backseat Driver (Ony)

Ony likes when you beg for a ride in his car.

A/N: Yes, I'm high. Hello. I am about to start posting these Onyankopon ideas I have in my head. This is the first one. Enjoy!

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content; Vaginal Fingering, AFAB! Reader (breasts mentioned), Oral Sex (F receiving), Cursing, AAVE/Dialogue with Dialect, Public Sex, Overstimulation, Choking, Minor Oral Fixation, Minor dacryphilia (crying kink), Explicit depiction of Sex (p in v); Not beta'd, barely proofread (will update as needed later)

Pairing: Onyankopon x Black!Reader

WC: 3k

“Ony, please!”

Your voice comes out breathless and high-pitched as another orgasm courses through you. Ony lifts his head from your drenched cunt, a Cheshire grin on his face. He slides two fingers inside your wetness with ease and chuckles at the way your walls clamp around his digits. 

His car is pulled off into a hidden spot on the side of the road— not easily seen from the highway. He has your bodycon dress bunched up to your waist, the top pulled down to expose your breasts as he finger-fucks you.

Ony takes in your tear-streaked face, the sight going straight to his dick.  

“What’s that, mama?” He teases. “I can’t understand you.”

You whimper as his fingers work in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace.

“You was talkin’ all that shit earlier. Distracting daddy from his business, right? Say somethin’ now.”

Your hand shoots to grip his bicep as the other goes for the car door behind you, nails scratching at it helplessly. 

“Daddy, please,” You whine, tears leaking from your eyes. “Let me ride. Need to feel you this time.”

He smirks, shaking his head. 

“I ain’t tryna hear that. Them pretty tears ain't gonna faze me, baby. Say you sorry to daddy for distracting him.”

His fingers shift position, finding that spot deep inside that makes you see stars. A guttural moan rips itself from your throat, sounding like music to Ony’s ears. His fingers work faster, rushing you toward another finish. 

“Wait, daddy! Wait- I’m sorry, daddy,” you cry, running from his punishing fingers

He yanks you back down using his free hand while his thumb starts to circle your overstimulated clit. 

“For what?” Ony demands, his voice low and sexy. 

“F-for distracting you on your business.”

His fingers stop moving entirely and you can’t decide what’s worse— the overstimulation or nothing happening at all. You clench around his fingers helplessly. 

Ony moves his free hand to your neck, forcing your head up so your dazed eyes meet his. 

“And?”

You take a shaky breath, licking your lips. Ony looks delectable, barely breaking a sweat as he tortures you within an inch of your life. His chain glints in the sunlight and the urge to pull into your mouth rolls through you. He tilts his head, looking at you expectantly. You swallow thickly. 

“For sayin’ I could find someone else to fuck me.”

His hand around your throat tightens slightly. His gaze is darker, more dangerous than before. 

“Why?”

You bite your lip, a soft moan escaping you. 

“‘Cause this pussy is yours, daddy.”

“You damn right,” He rasps, releasing your throat. 

You fall backwards slightly and watch with hooded eyes as his hands go to undo his belt. He frees himself from the confines of his jeans, pulling you over him like it’s nothing. His grip on your hips is tight as he holds you over his length, teasing your folds with his fat tip. 

The sound is lewd and wet as Ony gets himself ready for your creamy cunt. Then, without warning, he pulls you down on his length and grins widely at your scream as he impales you. 

Your head swims as you adjust to him, squeezing tightly around his cock. His jaw clenches as he watches your head loll back, overcome with pleasure. Ony grabs your jaw, pulling your head forward. 

Your gaze is unfocused as he slides his fingers in your mouth, rubbing them against your tongue. You taste your previous orgasms on his fingers. Your lips close around his digits, sucking without being told to. 

“That’s my baby,” Ony groans, barely containing himself. 

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, snaking his hand behind your head. He pulls you in for a nasty kiss, his tongue sliding in your mouth easily. He bites your bottom lip as you separate, his eyes lust blown. His free hand finds your ass cheek, smacking hard before squeezing.

“C’mon,” Ony says. “Ride your dick, mama.”

[the-californicationist]

fluffy smutty dom soap just spoiling the everliving shit out of the female mc, like they've been lovey dovey so much but theyre finally getting down to businesssssssss (to defeat... THE HUNSSSSS)

idk if this is what you were looking for.... but!! 😅

TW: rough sex, collar, D/s, face fucking, boot-riding, female reader, unsafe motorcycle events, enthusiastic consent and prior boundaries

Backpacking

Soap’s hands grabbed yours and pulled them around his waist, showing you just how tight to hold on. You could feel the heat of his skin through his clothes, and you let your fingers tease the hem of his thin tee shirt, tracing little lines across his belly. 

You’d spent the whole day on the back of his motorcycle, speeding from one town to the next, packing his side bags full of trinkets and jewelry — anything you wanted, he handed over his card. A brand new baby pink helmet? Check. The safety jacket to match? Check. A white leather collar with the cutest little bell? Check. He was doing anything and everything he could to treat you like a princess, and as much fun as you were having, you could recognize a pre-apology from a mile away. 

He wanted to butter you up, to lull you into a false sense of relaxed euphoria, and then he’d pounce. You knew his patterns well. He’d compliment you, calling you the bonniest wee backpack he ever did see, telling you that you were his fit lassie, prettier than any other, and that you felt so good wrapped around him when he rode. 

Soap lifted up your legs and scooted you forward, jamming you up against him. Then, the bike roared to life, ready to take you home. You could feel the machine rumble beneath you, vibrating right to your very core. 

You dared move your hands lower, cupping his heavy cock in your hands, feeling him twitch, threatening to get hard behind the zipper of his jeans. 

“Lass,” he warned, flipping up the visor to his helmet while he waited at the red light. 

The light turned green and he flipped it back down, turning his attention back to the road. 

You moved your hands again, squeezing him and massaging him until he was throbbing. You knew you were in for a world of hurt when you got home, but that was miles away. When he sped up, you squeezed harder, finding his swollen head and torturing it with your fingertips, spidering your nails across the stretched denim, knowing he would feel the ghost of your touch against his skin. 

He was certainly bothered. You could tell he was gunning for home, taking all of the shortcuts, shifting in his seat. Then, a stop sign. It was the entrance to your village, and your house wasn’t far off. 

As he rolled to a stop, he didn’t say a word, but his masked face looked over his shoulder at you, and you could feel his eyes, fiery and vengeful. It made your legs tremble, knowing how he would punish you. 

The twists and turns to your home were achingly slow compared to your ride on the highway, and the anticipation mounted in your belly. He pushed the button for the garage and rode inside with you still on the back, which was not your normal procedure. Soap usually helped you down from the seat, sending you inside so he could get his gear off. But, you were trapped up there until he dismounted. 

He parked the bike and killed the engine. Then, he closed the garage, leaving you in the dim light, watching him swing his leg over the low handlebars and stand up. You moved to follow him, but he stopped you, shoving you back down with a wide hand on your hip.

“Nuh uh, I dinnae think so, bonnie. You’ve been a naughty wee backpack today, you ken?”

You pulled off your helmet, fixing your braid, peppering your words with just a little more attitude than they needed, 

“I just wanted —”

His hand darted to your neck with a violent snap, something you hadn’t experienced, and he startled you. It also made your body extremely pliant, and you felt your hole pulse for him, turned on by his sudden aggression. Soap’s helm was still on, and it muffled his voice, but you could still hear him, 

Your helmet fell out of your hands, and he caught it, setting it down with his free hand on the workbench. His other hand tightened around your neck,

“Take off your clothes, bonnie girl. Every bit.”

He released you from his grasp, but you were still trapped, forced to strip on the bike, unable to dismount as he was standing in your way. Soap was just watching you, occasionally palming his hard cock through his pants just as you had on the bike, hungry and fully in control. 

“Johnny, I promise…”

He grabbed your throat again, staring at your state of undress, just panties and socks remaining, and he barked his commands at you, 

“Kiss me.”

“What? With your helmet on?”

His hand constricted your throat even tighter as a warning, and he whispered in a deep growl,

“Like you mean it, bonnie.”

Unable to escape, you began to kiss his helmet. It was plasticky and dusty from the road, but you tried to comply, licking and sucking at the mask, leaving little trails of drool across the dark visor. 

“That’s it, baby girl. Show me how sorry you are. Your man treated you like a princess, hm? And you were a wee brat, rubbin’ my cock all the way home. Teasin’ me. Such a bad girl.”

“I’m sorry, Johnny,” you gave him your best doe-eyed impression, but it was no use. 

“You will be,” he growled. 

All in a flash, he shoved you over the seat of the bike, the engine still warm beneath the leather, soft and supple as you lay on your belly. From this angle, your ass was up in the air, your feet barely touching the garage floor, and your head was hanging off of the side, blocking your view. 

Then, a hard slap rang out through the garage. You heard it before you felt it, but the sting sent you reeling. You cried out with a shriek and he hit you again. It was the other cheek this time, but it hurt just as bad. 

“Johnny, please!”

You heard him rip off his helmet. It clattered to the floor and he reached over the bike, pulling you up by the nape of your neck, forcing you to arch your back, 

“Mercy? Where was my fuckin’ mercy while you were havin’ your fun on the M80?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I’m — nghh!” You whispered a slew of apologies, but you were silenced as you felt his cockhead being shoved roughly against your folds, pulsing through your tight muscles, popping into place with a hot, unbearable pressure.

Soap began to thrust himself into you, both hands tangled in your hair at the base of your skull, the full weight of his body rocking into you, threatening to knock over the bike. But, it was in its wheel locks, and it wasn’t going anywhere. You had received no kindness. No soft licks with his smooth, generous tongue, no delicate swipes from his finger. Johnny was making you take his cock raw… and you loved it. 

“Mmf-fuck!” He groaned, bending himself over you like a rabid dog, sinking his teeth into your shoulder with a sharp bite, holding you up with his enormous arms, your breasts swaying with every unforgiving thrust. 

“Is tha’ what you needed, hm? My bonnie backpack just needed to be stuffed full of her man’s fat prick, is tha’ it?”

“Yes-s-s-s, sir!”

“Takin’ me so well, princess. You ken I love it when you’re a good girl. Such a good fuckin’ girl.”

Every word that oozed from his mouth was punctuated by another overwhelming invasion of his hard rod, and even though you were intimately familiar with his size and shape, you couldn’t remember ever feeling him go this deep. He was relentless, and his pace was taking your breath away. 

Suddenly, you were lifted from the bike, and his hand forced its way into your collar, controlling your every movement. You were pushed to your knees, and you landed in a splayed, awkward way, with Johnny bent over you, snarling into your face,

“Find my boot with that wet little slit, princess. Find it. Tha’s it. Spread those legs. Show me you can be my good girl.”

You were cock-drunk and lost now that you were empty, but you did as you were told. You held onto his huge thigh and humped your hips down, trying to reach for the toe of his riding boot. When you found it, you noticed how he had it angled up for you, ready for you to grind yourself into it like the wanton little thing you were. 

When you felt the smoothness of the leather toe, you became all too happy to oblige, thrusting forward and back, rubbing yourself to an almost-orgasm on his boot. Just as you were about to tumble over the edge, you heard him chuckle, and you felt your neck being yanked by the collar, pulled face-to-face with his dripping cockhead. 

“Open up, bonnie.”

He didn’t wait for long. Johnny pressed his cock into your mouth, making you taste yourself, giving you a few shallow thrusts to get used to his thick girth. He still had his fingers laced through your new collar, and as he began to shove his length past your shining lips, the bell made a darling little tinkling sound. 

“Mmm,” he smiled down at you, petting the hair out of your face with his other hand, “There she is. There’s my good girl. My backpack loves to be stuffed. Loves to swallow my load, huh? Tell me how much you love it.”

“Mmph mmn mgh!” You tried to speak, but his dick was filling your cheeks, making it impossible. 

Another sharp yank on your collar got your attention, and your eyes darted to his, wide and full of wonder. He smiled, commanding you,

“Louder, bonnie. Cannae hear you clearly.”

“Mmph mmn mgh! Mmn mgh!” You were basically screaming against his flesh, struggling to push your voice out just like he wanted you to. You wanted to be so good. 

You continued to rub yourself on his boot, and you were getting close. You gripped his thigh tighter, fucking yourself with the smooth leather, chasing your high.

But, it was Soap who got you there. He grabbed you by the face and pushed himself down into your throat to his hilt, burying your nose in his curls, running his thumb over your tear-stained cheeks and coaching you through it, 

“Come for me, bonnie. Come right now. Tha’s it. Scream. Scream on my cock, you pretty little slut. Mngh! Tha’s it!”

Your body didn’t give you a choice. It was on his side, and it followed his orders. You felt yourself coming, shaking in your legs, gushing all over his shoe, staining the concrete floor of the garage, screaming like you were dying. 

He pulled himself out of you all in one, gentle go. Then, he started jerking himself off, keeping hold of your collar, fisting his cock onto your cheek. 

“Close your eyes, princess, and open up that filthy fuckin’ mouth.”

You obeyed, pliant as ever, and as you did, you felt his come coat your face, rope after rope, warm and creamy, getting all over your cheeks and mouth. You opened your eyes to look at him, and he was worn out, wrung like a rag, panting and dizzy. He used the tip of his dick to paint your lips one more time, and  you cleaned him up, laving him with your tongue from base to tip, letting his seed drip off of your nose and jaw, not caring how messy you were. 

While he was watching you, you swiped a dollop of his come up with your finger and began eating it from your hands, showing him your tongue, trying to please him with your loyal obedience. 

“Oh, fuck. Such a pretty girl. So perfect. Best fuckin’ backpack in the whole world, bonnie.”

AO3 Link

[ifonlyitwasmidnight]

First time

Takashi x F!Reader

WC: 4.6k

CW/TW: mentions of a past abusive relationship, fingering (F. receiving), pet names (angel, baby. etc.), cream pie. Fluffy Smut.

You and Takashi have been dating for months and have never taken it further. That changes after a quiet evening together.

The cityscape was a blur around you in the fading sun; the last rays of a warm summer day reflected from the glass buildings, pinks and purples painting the horizon. The whisps of your hair that you hadn’t tied back whipped across your face as the wind rushed around you, spurred on by the speed you were flying down the highway on the back of Takashi’s bike. 

He gently tapped the side of your thigh before squeezing it, leaning forward to put both hands on the bars. You tucked down against his muscular back, feeling each movement as he cranked back on the throttle, pushing the bike faster as soon as your arms tightened around his waist. 

Takashi grinned as he felt your embrace tighten, and a little whoop escaped your lips. He could spend days like this—riding around with you at his back without a care in the world.

No Toman.

No responsibilities. 

Nothing but the setting sun and you. 

So, when Takashi had called you a few hours earlier, asking if you wanted to go for a ride, which you knew meant “I need you,” you didn’t hesitate to say yes—anywhere with him had quickly become your favorite place. 

The bike slowed as he finally pulled off, rolling to a stop by the waterfront. He held out a hand for you to grab as you jumped off before kicking down the stand and shutting the bike off; the sudden quiet after listening to the roar of the motorcycle was deafening. 

You reached out a hand, and Takashi took it, lacing your fingers together before pulling you towards a spot under a tree where you two could sit. Being with Takashi was like nothing you had ever experienced. It was natural and easy. There weren’t awkward silences as you two existed in the other's presence. He seems to know what you were thinking without ever voicing it. But you, oh you. You knew how to calm him, tame him, and enlighten him with nothing but a single touch. 

You are his muse. 

Takashi kissed your forehead, letting his lips linger for a moment before slipping the bag from your back that he had handed you when he picked you up. He pulled out a small blanket, fluffed it, and laid it on the ground. He motioned for you to sit, and you held in a giggle as you did, leaning your back against the tree. 

“Such a gentleman, Taka,” you teased.

He shrugged a shoulder, that gorgeous smirk that said, “Yeah, I know,��� making its appearance. It never failed to take your breath away how beautiful your boyfriend was. His lilac hair was longer now, brushing the tops of his shoulders. His eyes were a little sadder with the weight of his youth on him but still as vibrant, cutting into yours like glass. 

You let the laugh out this time as Takashi flopped to the ground, forcing himself between your legs and leaning against your chest, getting himself comfortable before reaching for the backpack again and fishing out some rice balls, holding one over his head for you to take. 

You ate in companionable silence, the crunch of the seaweed and the sound of the wind the only thing that filled your ears. Your relationship with Takashi was new, the romantic side of it at least. Years as friends from a young age, growing up with all the Toman boys, turned into years of patching them up after every fight, being there with them through every conflict, turned into hidden feelings, and dating outside of the circle just to get away. Plus, trying to bring anyone around Toman usually scared them off, which meant the two parts of your life were usually separate. Now, with Takashi, they were one. 

“Taka,” you said as you gently dragged your nails against his scalp. 

“Mm?” He hummed, relishing how your nails felt against his skin, the lingering headache he had been fighting all day melting away at your touch.

“You know you don’t always have to take me on dates like this, ya know.”

He knew. 

But he wanted to. 

Takashi had spent years watching as you dated asshole after asshole. Watched as you went to Hina, ranting about how your long-term boyfriend forgot your birthday again or how you wished he would take you somewhere nice for once. How often had Draken had to listen to him rant about how he didn’t understand why you were still with that asshole? 

He loved doing little things like this for you—stealing you away from your responsibilities, showing you how you should have been treated. 

That was why when Draken had been lying on Takashi’s bed late one evening as Spring began to fade, he casually dropped that you had broken up with your boyfriend and that if Takashi didn’t nut up and ask you out, Draken would. Takashi had said fuck it with the “respectable” amount of time you should wait between someone breaking up and when to ask them out and had showed up at your door at 2 A.M, saying he didn’t want to wait anymore. If he had to watch you date another idiot, he wouldn’t stop himself from putting them in the hospital. 

You had been frozen to the spot during his speech, a bottle of wine clutched in one hand, mascara running down your cheeks, and hair a mess, his sweet words only making you sob harder. 

That was the night you both realized you had spent years dancing around your feelings for one another, and it was the last night either of you had spent alone. It had been a welcomed relief to the group when you two finally walked into the Toman Shrine with Takashi’s arm around your shoulders. Even Hakkai cried. 

Takashi looked up at you through his dark lashes, “I know, but why wouldn’t I?” 

 You had been so used to the bare minimum. Anything over simply helping you put your dishes away made you nervous. So when you finally explained that you had gotten so used to your ex slamming cabinets when you asked for his help, Takashi made sure to let you know that he was helping because he wanted to make your life easier. 

To show you what it was like to be genuinely… loved. Not that he had dared utter those words yet. But he thought you could tell. From how his hang lingered on your hips when he held you or how he would lean his forehead against your own just to get lost in you, trying to convey everything he couldn’t bring himself to say just yet. 

“Because it takes time away from the girls and your work. Along with all of the—” Your rant is quickly cut off as Takashi’s lips are suddenly pressed to your own, and you melted into the kiss, train of thought long forgotten. 

His lips are soft as they graze along your own, molding to yours as if they were meant to be there. A subtle drag of his tongue is an encouragement for you to open, allowing your tongues to twine together, dancing with one another as you get lost in the heady feeling of him. His calloused hands from years of fighting and hard work graze across your cheek, moving you with his arm around your waist, flipping you both so his back was against the tree and you were perched in his lap, knees on the ground next to his thighs. 

He broke the kiss first, eyes heavy-lidded as he looked at you and panting as he tried to calm himself. There was a reason he slid you down his lap—for all the heavy make-out sessions and groping, you had yet to take that final step, both of you agreeing to take it slow. Going from friends to lovers was complicated enough; what if sex ruined it? 

“You,” he said as his lips grazed over your cheek again, pulling in a shaky breath as he did, “Are the most important thing to me.” His breath fanned across your skin as he kissed back to your lips, hovering just far enough that you couldn’t quite kiss him, and you could tell he was restraining himself. His hands trembled where they held you, itching to dive under your shirt to feel your hot skin.

“Am I being silly?”

He shook his head. “No, beautiful. I’ll remind you daily that you are my priority if that’s what it takes. I waited years for you and can spend years reminding you that you’re worth it.” 

A deep blush bloomed across your cheeks, and you buried your face in the crook of his neck to hide it. Takashi inhaled suddenly, leaning his head to the side, and you froze. His hands had settled on your hips at some point, gripping you tightly. 

Your name was a whisper on his lips as you gently kissed the sensitive skin just below his jaw, and he tensed. 

“If you don’t stop, it’s going to be a problem, and I’m not having sex with you for the first time in a public place, angel.” His voice was a deep rasp, one you recognized from when he would have to excuse himself from your embrace. 

“And if I don’t want to stop?” You nipped at his jaw gently, shocked by your brazen act. You weren’t usually the one to initiate. Sex with your ex had been… a chore. It had stopped being enjoyable months before you broke up, but before that, it had turned into you turning him down in favor of getting yourself off; at least you would orgasm that way. 

With Takashi, though, you had to stop yourself. You were waiting for the moment he would be ready for you two to take it to the next step. Damn your agreement to take it slow. 

Before you knew it, Takashi had somehow deposited you on the back of his bike, and you were once again flying down the highway, his hand higher on your thigh this time, kneading at the flesh, caressing it at every red light in the city that you seemed to be hitting. That little touch sent your head spinning, imagining what it would feel like to have those hands truly on your skin.  Your hand wandered as you sat there, sliding under the back of his shirt and around to the front, where they remained for most of the ride. You could feel his heart hammering under your cheek pressed against his back. 

You were soon parked outside of your apartment and at your front door faster than you thought you’d ever been. Each glance at you was laced with heat and needy want. Nothing like you had ever seen before. You unlocked the door with Takashi pressed against your back, kissing your neck, and you both almost fell through as you swung it open. He kicked it shut, and the darkness of the night settled once more. His hands were everywhere, on your hips, ribs, and face as his lips frantically pressed to yours and your tongues danced together. Backs were pressed against walls, and chairs were bumped into as you made your way to your bedroom, each too caught up in the other to both with anything other than feeling and learning each other. 

You gasped as you finally pulled away, desperate for a breath. “Wait, wait. Takashi, wait,” your voice was a rasping plea. 

He instantly froze, his hands lingering off your body, and he pulled his face back, chewing on his bottom lip before he sucked in a breath and slowly exhaled. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Are you sure you want to do this? I know we talked about going slow.” 

His shoulders sagged in relief. He thought he had pushed you too far, too fast. Takashi slid an arm around your waist and pulled you snugly against him, chest to chest, his free hand pushing strands of hair from your face. 

“I am ready for whatever you are ready for. If that means stopping here, then that is fine. But this is about you just as much as it is about me. Are you sure you want to do this?” 

You nodded instantly, and he raised an eyebrow.

“I need to hear you say it out loud, darling.” 

“Yes,” you breathed. 

His lips were back on yours, but this time they were gentle. The frantic frenzy from a few moments before melting into long slow drags of his tongue against yours and slower movements before scooping you up in his arms and expertly navigating to your room. He stood you back on your feet at the edge of your bed and slid his hands down to the hem of your shirt.

“Can I take this off?” His voice had dropped an octave, sending a shiver down your spine, resonating deep within your bones.

You nodded, and he tilted his head slightly as you remembered.

“Y–yes. Yes.” 

Takashi gracefully lifted the shirt from your body, and his breath caught. He had known you were beautiful for ages, but seeing you now, standing before him simply with your shirt off, your skin glowing in the moonlight that filtered in through your window, you were stunning.

You shivered again as Takashi’s calloused hands ghosted up your rib cage, this time in anticipation. The feeling was like nothing you had ever felt, jolts of arousal shooting straight to your core. His fingers teased under the band of your bra, following it to your back, and he looked at you expectantly, seeking your further approval. You quickly unhooked the metal clasps, letting it fall to the ground between you. 

The smirk that graced his lips was nothing short of feral. He picked you up again and gently laid your back against the mattress; his weight was a delicious pressure over you. Takashi placed a single kiss on your mouth before quickly moving down between the valley of your breasts. His mouth was hot as his kisses became open-mouthed, kissing around the sensitive soft flesh, nipping love marks into a few spots before sucking a deep purple mark into it. 

You moaned his name as his tongue swirled your nipple, pulling the bud into the hot cavern of his mouth, and your back arched. He rolled your other nipple between his thumb and finger, pulling at it gently before letting it go, repeating the motion before swapping sides, allowing for equal attention to both breasts. 

Your body writhed under his ministrations, and you were soon a panting mess under him, too far gone in the haze of lust from a small amount of foreplay that you knew you were soaked. You clawed at his shirt, and he slunk out of reach of your hands before you could get it off.

“Patience, love.” Was his only command, and you groaned, desperate to feel his hot skin against your own. His hand slid to the top of your jeans and hovered over the button.

“Taka, fuck, please. Please take them off.” 

Takashi chuckled at your enthusiasm. 

He gripped the side of your jeans and pulled them down and off your body expertly, and you both giggled a little as the tightness of the ankles got caught on your legs, and he had to yank them with a mumble of “damn skinny jeans.” He gazed down at you, drinking in the beautiful image that was simply you—his own personal angel. Your skin was flush with blush, your chest rose and fell in quick succession as you panted, and he could see the slick that had gathered on the inside of your thighs, evidence of your need for him. 

You blushed under his gaze and resisted the urge to cover yourself up. You had nothing to be ashamed of about your body, and Takashi made you feel nothing but gorgeous. His hands always lingered on your hips before they traveled up your rib cage, oh so gently, to wrap himself around your shoulders. Your body was strong and perfect. 

Takashi ran his hands up the inside of your legs, gently pushing them apart just enough so that his hand could graze the outside of your clothed pussy. 

“Can I take these off, beautiful?” 

“It’ll feel unfair if I’m completely naked and you’re still fully clothed.” 

He reached back and pulled his shirt off in one swift movement, discarding it in a pile made up of only your clothes.

You had seen him shirtless many times over the years. Hell, you had been the one to sew up many of the scars he had peppered across his flesh. But, something about him doing it while seated between your legs, looking at you with nothing but primal lust in his eyes, was different. His pants had slipped in your haste to get to your bedroom, leaving more of his abs that fed into that perfectly cut v that disappeared into his jeans on display. Your eyes followed each line, returning to his eyes where one of his slit eyebrows was cocked.

“Like what you see?”

You nodded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, letting it loose again a moment later. 

His fingers grabbed the sides of your panties and slowly slid them down your legs, strings of arousal connecting you to the soft material. Takashi felt his mouth water at the sight of your perfect pussy, waiting for him to devour it. He wanted to take it slow this time. There would be plenty of times after this to fuck you into the mattress, to get you to scream his name. He wanted to explore your body tonight and learn what made you twitch and writhe. He had dreamt of the day that he would get you in this position, so open to him and waiting. He wanted to do it right and show you what it felt like to be with someone who gave a damn.

Takashi ignored the insistent throbbing of his cock as he spread your legs and settled on his belly between them, eye level with your pussy. He looked up at you, and he was pleased to see you already looking at him, mouth popped open in a small o as you watched him. Your head fell back against the mattress at the first touch of his tongue. He flattened it, pushing it between your folds and licking you from entrance to clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub before repeating the motion. 

Your taste was better than he could have ever imagined; the sweetness of your arousal coated his mouth as he drank you in. Your moans grew in intensity and volume as he alternated between pushing his tongue into your tight hole and licking long stripes up you. He decided to tease a finger at your entrance, gently pressing into you, testing your reactions. You mewled at the feeling, rocking your hips forward, looking for more.  He pumped his finger slowly, loosening you before sliding in another. 

His fingers were thick. Thicker than you were expecting and thicker than your own from when you had fucked yourself on them, imagining it was Takashi’s hand instead. Your head was swimming with pleasure, your moans and gasps bouncing around the walls every time Takashi twisted his fingers and grazed across the soft spot pressed into your walls. The fullness from just those two fingers had your legs trembling around him.

His tongue flattened against your clit, licking it before sucking it hard into his mouth. Your back arched as he did. The all too familiar burning sensation of your orgasm building in your lower stomach making itself known. 

No one had ever brought you this close to an orgasm so quickly.

Takashi groaned against your pussy, sending vibrations through your sensitive flesh as he rutted against the mattress, seeking relief as his cock strained. He wanted your cum on his tongue. He knew you were close, your walls fluttered tightly around his fingers, and your pussy was gushing, spurring him on as you raced toward your orgasm. 

“Takashi,” his name was a breathy moan, “’m close.”

His fingers pumped into you quicker, scissoring open and rubbing against your g-spot each time. “Cum for me, angel.”

Your legs clamped around his head as you exploded on his fingers, a loud gasp of his name leaving your sinful lips, and he drank in your orgasm, your juices coating his chin in a thin sheet of slick. If Takashi died here, suffocated between your legs, it would be the best way to go.

Takashi licked at your overly sensitive pussy, and you twitched each time his tongue met your flesh. He ran his tongue over his lips before kissing up your body, his weight settling heavily over you again. Your head was foggy from your orgasm; you had never felt that good before. Hell, you didn’t know it could feel that good. The tingling sensation that came from is radiated from your toes to the tips of your ears. You felt weightless. 

Lips met your jaw, and then a nibble to your ear lobe.

“Want to keep going?” 

You nodded, “God, yes. Can I suck your cock?” You didn’t have it in you to be embarrassed about your question. You wanted to taste him, to feel how heavy he would be on your tongue. 

He groaned and rutted his hips against yours. Your eyes widened at the feel of him. He was big. 

“As much as I would love to watch my cock disappear between your lips, there’s time for that later. I want to see you cum on my cock.”

He kicked his pants and boxers off, leaving you both bare to the world. He sat on his haunches, and you couldn’t help but stare at his cock.

It was perfect. A thick vein ran along the side, and the thought of running your tongue along it had you licking your lips. 

But holy shit, he was big. A girth that suddenly made you understand why foreplay seemed essential to him. He wrapped a fist around his cock, pumping slowly. The tip was an angry red and leaking pre-cum, begging for attention.  His free hand found your cunt again, gently running a finger up and stopping at your clit, rubbing small circles into it.

“Condom?” His fist twisted tightly again at the base of his cock, and he bucked slightly into his hand. 

“Birth control. Clean?”

Takashi looked at you incredulously. “Clean.”

“Good. Me too. Now fuck me before I lose my mind, please.”

“Only ‘cause you asked so nicely.” 

He braced a forearm on the bed next to your head and used the hand wrapped around his cock to lead himself to your entrance, breaching your tight hole with his tip before slowly sinking in. Takashi leaned down and kissed you as you winced at the stretch. 

“I know, baby. You’re doing so good for me,” he whispered against your lips, nipping at them gently.

You relaxed at the praise, sighing heavily at the pleasure as his talented fingers found your clit once more, letting you loosen further as he wrung pleasure from every ounce of your flesh. You had never felt this full before. He reached a depth of you that you had never hit with any toy or ex-lover. You both groaned as he finally bottomed out, and he paused, letting you adjust to his considerable size. 

A seductive moan, nothing short of pornographic, left your lips as you gave a tentative roll of your hips, feeling just how he dragged along your walls, hooked just enough that he would stimulate each part of you. 

“Move, Takashi,” you pressed your lips against his in a desperate, sloppy kiss, “make me yours.”

Takashi groaned against your mouth as he pulled his hips back and slammed them back into yours. Each thrust was bullying and demanding as he set a leisurely pace, drinking in the way your cunt clenched around his cock. The sound of your wet pussy and hips against one another mixed with your moans. 

“You feel so good, angel,” Takashi moaned as he pushed up on his hand. His eyes trailed down your body to where you were connected, thick white rings of your arousal built around the base of his cock, and his mouth fell open at the sight. He watched as each time he surged forward; your hips rolled to meet his, thrust for thrust. Your hands gripped the bed sheets above your head, pulling at them tightly as each punishing thrust made your tits bounce and forced a moan from you.

You already felt like you were going to cum again. 

“More,” you breathed, and Takashi responded instantly, the pace he was thrusting into you kicking up. 

“Gonna cum on my cock, baby?” Takashi’s voice would send you over if you weren’t careful. Just the way he spoke, so dirty but so him at the same time. He groaned loudly as he threw his head back before sitting up completely and hooking your knee over his elbow, allowing for a new angle that hit you much deeper.

“Oh, fuuu-ck, Taka!” 

Takashi’s rough hand grabbed your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers once more, the sensation shooting right down to your pussy, clenching tightly on Takashi’s cock as he pounded relentlessly into you. You were so close. 

“Right there, right there, right there,” You gasped repeatedly. Takashi didn’t falter, his hips never stuttering until your body seized up, and you screamed as you came on his cock, little white spots exploding in your vision as you did. 

“Shit, you’re tight,” Takashi moaned as his hips finally began to lose their rhythm, “Wanna fill you up, baby.” He was overwhelmed with the feel of your fluttering wall around him until he finally slammed into you one more time, emptying himself into you with a few sloppy thrusts. 

He panted for breath as he collapsed over you, letting your leg fall gently to the bed. Takashi’s hand cupped your jaw and guided your eyes to his.

“Breathe, baby,” he said, and you gasped deeply, desperate to pull in air. 

Your breaths mingled as you lay there, lost in each other. The stickiness of your skin and the heavy air in the room settled over you both.

“Takashi,” you whispered against his lips before kissing him slowly and deeply. His lips still tasted faintly of you but were swollen and red from how he had been biting on them, keeping himself from being overly vocal. 

He pulled out, and you felt his cum slowly seep out of you. Takashi groaned as he watched. He wanted to push his cum back into you so badly. Next time.

“Takashi,” you said again, his eyes locked with yours. There was a gentleness there that he hadn’t seen before, something new he had to explore. 

“Yes, beautiful?” He trailed his fingers down your face.

“I love you.”

He blinked. Once. Twice. 

“I love you, angel.” 

His lips sealed the promise those words meant to him. You were his, in every sense of the word, and he was yours. You were giving him your heart to protect with those three words. You’ve given him your body to protect with your actions. 

Takashi knew one thing: he’d do anything for you if it meant hearing those words from your lips every day. 

A/N: Takashi is our consent king.

🏷️: @awkwardchick87

[denim-devil]

Doggy Style | Douche!Steve Harrington x friend!M!Reader

💌 - After a squabble with his best friend and GF, Nancy Wheeler, the fresh cuts and gashes he became equipped with pushes him to break the boundaries between you and his internalised anger…

Warnings - Mentions of Violence, Angry!Steve, Rough!Steve, Friends to lovers??, NSFW, PIA, Spit as lube, Bareback, Doggy Style, Mean!Steve, Mentions of slurs, Lowkey pwithoutp

The punch was what started your upcoming doom, yet the slap from Nancy is what pushed Steve over the edge.

The squabble happened quickly, almost like a blur, blending in with the immediate backhand she delivered to his bruising cheek. You stood in place, stuck on the spot as if you were trapped within a glass box sinking into the depths of the sea, eyebrows raising at the situation at hand.

It wasn’t a shock, he had it coming, it was as if you noticed just how provocative he could be, bending his cold demeanour and impulsive personality into one, like an old piece of gum sticking to the bottom of a shoe.

You watch as Nancy scurries away, it was clear she was upset, knowing the group that currently rained the halls of Hawkins High as royalties of a long line of bullies had clearly changed the towns mind as a whole of her sweetness and the cliche teachers pet act she put on for performance.

The word “whore” was painted in a deep crimson red across the abandoned cinema which faced the busy highway had began to ruin her reputation, no reaction from Steve had led her away with tears rolling uncontrollably down her porcelain cheeks.

As much as you wanted to run after her, comfort her and tell her everything would work out after a couple of weeks, you couldn’t, the gravitational pull Steve had on you kept you on the same spot, watching the backs of Tommy and Carol walking away, giggling to one another, it was definitely Steve’s time to be kicked from his throne that he had owned since recess.

There he stood, small cuts littering his pale skin, one atop of his lip leading up just underneath his perfectly shaped nose an another which faded into the brunette of his right eyebrow.

Anger was written across the features of his bruised face, his head turning ninety degrees, slow and unsure wether or not to face you, uncertain on how you’d react to the dark glare he shot your way, like a maniac with a glock, prepared to use his poisonous tongue if you uttered a single word.

“What?”

He spat with vulgarity, his tone deep, full of gloom and crassness as if you were the cause of his downfall, his crash and burn like an unfortunate plain crash which he so happened to board.

You shook with anxiety, to nervous to even begin to speak never mind back chatting the current king of Hawkins High. The alley was silent, Steve stood with both arms hanging by his sides in defeat, his eyes still locked onto you like a sniper with it’s target.

You so happened to be in his view, the red dot pointed at the centre of your clammy forehead. It was inevitable, after the previous interactions between his so called friends and girlfriend, the anger he shone so brightly with like sunrise had wrapped around you like a thick blanket, creeping up and around your neck, almost suffocating.

“Steve-“

“Save it…”

He remarked quickly back with lack of refinement, intentionally setting it straight, letting you in on his current feelings which to felt heavy and uncomfortable, you were scared to say the least, just what did Harrington have in mind for you.

His patience weight thin with you and it was showing a little to clearly, his hands balling into fists, knuckles turning a shade of pale white, nails digging into the skin of his palms, he wasn’t going to do anything…was he?

“Why didn’t you have my back?”

His question stilled in the air like a muggy late night of july, rocking you to the core, unraveling each part of your mind and how you stuck in the same spot whilst Steve tried defending himself. No answer presented itself, only a shaken sigh rolling from the tip of your tongue.

He noticed how you had stepped back ever so slightly, your demeanour had changed, lacking confidence and stance which egged Steve on, pushing for the answer but also something that had lay dormant deep within him for weeks now, it slowly creeped it’s way from his chest downward.

“To much of a pussy to throw a punch? You seriously are pathetic aren’t you-“

Tears pricked the corners of the very eyes that still locked onto his dark hazels, watching as he marched towards you, closing in on you once you feel the cold brick of the alley’s wall against the small of your back.

He scoffed in your face, lips tugging up into a smug smirk as if achieved the very goal he was looking for, like a famous footballer making his debut on the field, finally having you backed into a corner with no escape.

You shivered, like a shadow he loomed over you, his presence almost as tall if not taller then himself, making the space between you both much smaller, pushing you further into the bricks that now warmed up to your sticky figure.

“Seriously? Not gonna bite back, your just making this easier for me”

You felt the flutter in the base of your chest bloom like a kaleidoscope of butterflies, heart beginning to race at the thought of Steve making a move along the lines of intimacy, it felt like a trick, dipping your hand into the mists of a candy bucket, searching for the obvious choice.

“Steve I don’t understand how I could’ve-“

Steve cut you off with another scoff, it was cocky and demeaning, throwing you off and turning the clogs in your head quicker as you tried to solve his made up solution for your absence.

“Don’t you think you should be paying me back for standing there like some freak?”

A single tear told it all to Steve, you were easy to wind up, to sensitive to even stand up for yourself. You caught onto what he had planned once he grew bored with dementing you, ushering out a breathed “fag” before rolling his tongue, his head dipping until his lips neared the shell of your ear.

“Even Nancy had the balls to do it, maybe you like this”

The tears grew heavy, washing away every piece of confidence Steve managed to break down, he resembled a wrecking ball, one swing and you could feel the crushing in every inch of your body.

“Please stop, I-“

Blubbering like a fish it what gave Steve the interest and intention of gripping onto your waist harshly, turning your body as your front faced the corroded gravelled pavement. Your back faced him which hid the travelling pink blush that ran from the base of your neck upward, towards your tear stained cheeks.

The silence grew thick, not as thick as the tension that stunk out the secluded alley way that began to get dingy from the lack of sun, secreting you both even more. The lack of comments but the scrambling of his hands unfastening the front of your denim jeans made you question what was in store.

“Didn’t take you up for being such a slut”

He spat with vengeance, pushing down the band of your jeans, white boxers following as they feel to pool around your ankles like a puddle, the cooling air hitting the damp skin of the two pert globes that had Steve almost salivating at the sight.

He took a second to himself, revelling in the sight of your new profound immaculacy, almost losing himself as he was daunted with the realisation of his actions, his motive still was unclear to you but you could only dream of what he had planned.

The stillness triggered a sharp huff from you until you heard the crumbling of stones underneath trainers notifying you of movement. A sharp smack rang throughout the desolate alley, his palm landing flat against the centre of your left cheek which forced your body forward into the brick, knocking the wind from your lungs.

The whine that followed suit attracted another smack, this time to the right, it stung like an angered wasp, a marking of fingers and a palm bloomed across the skin of your backside, growing into small bumps yet it wasn’t hard enough to break skin, it was hard enough to force your back to arch, presenting yourself perfectly for him.

A low “fuck” grumbles from his chest, forcing it’s way into the air and through the small holes of your ears. His motive began to grow clearer once another smack atop of the markings forced a yelp from you, eventually breaking the skin, a small welt appearing, filling with crimson blood.

“Please stop, can’t handle it-“

You quipped back between short breaths, it wasn’t the truth, you wanted, no, you needed more. Your cock jumped as the thought of Steve using you for his pleasure, more so then the previous anxiousness that prepared you for his current onslaught.

“You can, you will- having way to much for this to end, come on, you can handle more right?”

A mopy, struggled “yes sir” rumbled from the depths of your slowly dipping chest, earning yet another smack, it was softer, as if he was testing the waters, hearing the quiet whispery moan you released on impact, his smirk grew smaller, his mouth growing slack as he began to show interest, changing the dynamics swiftly.

“Say it again, louder”

Once more, a soft smack and rough squeeze to the back of your thigh automatically forced out a shy “yes sir” which gave Steve the answer had been searching for.

“Atleast your good for something, just a dumb little fag, all splayed out for my use, and my use only-“

Wiggling back only enticed him further, drawing him in like a hunter to it’s prey. That’s when it began, the obvious unzipping of trousers cut through the heavy lingering of sexual tension, the crumpling of boxers following suit an an eventual wet thud, the moist tip of his cock meeting the hairy skin of his abdomen.

Eyes travelled up the centre of your arched back, the view was something to fawn over, his cock aching with want as if it had a mind of it’s own, although this isn’t the first time Steve has thought about you inappropriately.

“Your loving this aren’t you?” He whispered gently yet sternly, copious amounts of pre dribbling from the tip of your cock, joining the dusty pile of rocks littering the hard ground beneath you. He took note, keen on the idea of touching you.

But he held back, instead he brought himself back, taking a few awkward steps, his trousers restricting his foot work as he waddled closer until the heavy weight of his dick rested on top of your ass.

You nod in return, both quick and suggestive. It felt like an eternity before Steve began to massage the spongy wet tip against the puckered skin of your entrance, swiping each bead of pre back and forth, up and down.

wiggling once more against him grants the a boost of confidence, rebuilding what Steve diminished back up, pushing back against him, relieving the ache running from base to tip.

“Fuck- you want it don’t you? Needy little fag”

His tongue was sharp, cut you deep in ways that had you clutching onto the wall, hands flattening against the coolness as you spread wider, giving him the chance to prod the tip against your quivering hole.

He slapped his cock twice against, the lewd wetness ringing out into the quiet nights air, he dipped every so slightly before pushing in to your surprise, the burn from just his thick tip entering you leaving you no choice but to get it over with, stilling once you relax, giving him the power and control to push past the resistance the ring of muscle once held strongly, now weak against the raw intrusion.

The bones of your knees grew weak, legs wobbling, trying the very best to hold yourself up, ears catching onto the dirty words Steve spat as he sank in slowly, each inch adding fuel the burn which grew like a brewing fire, rapidly.

A hand brushes past his v-line. You push back in his abdomen wanting the tingling pain to stop, it resembled pins and needles digging into your skin, jabbing at the warm velvety walls of your insides.

His own hands managed to restrict your movement, caging both hands together behind your back leaving you with a sense of vulnerability, now growing stronger by the second.

“Gonna take it fully okay, no pulling out or pushing me out, gonna take me fully, fuck-“

Words were no forte, especially when his cock took control not only over your mind but the sentences you tried to string together, eyes now languidly rolled back into your head as he lay still, fully sheathed inside of you completely, the set of heavy and full balls he adorned now rested against the cleft which separated each cheek.

“Didn’t think you’d actually listen, got me balls deep inside this little ass of yours”

He huffs once pulling back, watching each inch slip from your hole, the tip now present against your clutch. He toyed with his cock, giving each cheek a slap before sinking back in with ease.

A few raspy “fucks” slip from his open mouth once he sets the thrilling pace, each plap and thrust of his hips railing through the empty alleyway, sounding out into the quiet streets.

Steve had no remorse behind his movements, his wants clear with predatory intentions and his instincts pushing you further into the coldness of the brick-layered side wall, increasing the arch of your back into a slanted curve.

His access was much easier, his pace increased, ravenous and body shaking which had your limp cock weeping and leaking. He took pleasure in watching you crumble beneath him, taking all of his length each time.

“Fuck- already so close, so much better then Nancy shit-“

Each prod of his spongy, angered tip against the small bundle of nerves tucked deeply inside had you seeing stars and the once clear vision you were acquainted with now fuzzy and distorted as you accepted the fate you were sealed with.

“Steve- please I can’t take anymore”

You choked out a sob once the coil snapped, each glob and shot of thick clear liquid splattered against the wall, dribbling onto the gravel below. Steve could feel it, how you fluttered harshly against his achy, twitching cock.

“So good for me shit- knew you’d take it for me”

He mumbled low and thickly into the shell of your ear, his hands now holding you still as he hammered against your red-raw backside. He was chasing the glory and bliss he so craved.

Now flaccid, you felt every jump from the way his cock crammed itself fully inside and up against the spot that had you fumbling for forgiveness, it was to much yet not enough.

“So tight- gonna make me cum, need it-“

He wasn’t far behind, stilling behind you as he fell limp against your damp back, his cock jumping as each rope painted your insides, his groans almost animalistic like a dog in heat, pushing what he had to offer deep into your freshly filled gut.

“Fuck yeah-“

It all made sense, the closeness, the douche like persona that riddled his body which protected his feelings and thoughts, the way his hand’s softened on your hips, how he kept himself flat against you, how the wet trail of kisses from the dip of your back to your neck marked the very moment he allowed himself to be truthful.

This wasn’t about revenge, this was about claiming something that so happened to be his, that happened to fall in line.

“You tell anybody about this…you won’t make it to next summer”

The threat lingered like an unwanted piece of meatloaf, stale and fragile, he felt like the fork that pierced the thick lump, essentially playing with his food, still keeping it on his plate.

He pulled back slowly, his cock now soft slipping from you with a wet pop, the load he planted so deeply dribbled out downwards, leaking onto the back of your abuses thighs.

“I-I promise”

You mumble back quickly, no second thought behind it. Steve wouldn’t do that, deep down you both knew he was to scared to become what he truly desired, yet he still clinged to the title he had been given, his popularity and his harshness. Although, the title has friends had clearly changed.

“That’s good- get dressed okay, don’t want people to see what I did to you”

Secretly, Steve wanted to boast, wanted the whole world to know, wanted to see you every sunday night just to fuck you over and over…was he committed to the thoughts that ran through him like a bullet train…?

[fishii-writes]

flower crowns - osamu dazai

paring: dazai x fem!reader

cw: established relationship, reader wears a dress, dazai calls reader "bella" as in bella-donna, really just pure fluff

a/n: first fic... i hope whoever reads this likes it, please let me know if i made any mistakes! enjoy :) also i wrote this some time ago, for one of my mutual's writing event, but they deactivated their account so i'm posting this anyways. happy birthday to the silly!!

word count: 849

Your breath hitches for a moment, using your nails to make a thin slit in the stem. Carefully, you slide another stem through the slit one, and repeat for a few more. There you have it, fully made of white flowers. Now, you just have to wait for your dearest to come to arrive so that the real fun can start.

For some context, you’ve noticed your lover has been really stressed lately, and wanted to do something nice for him. But you know he’d never tell you, he would just go on about his day until he can think alone at night. Thus, you left early in the morning and left a note on your bedside table, reading;

“Good morning, my love. Want to know where I am? Check my location. Also, remember to wear something light coloured, if you want to match! :)”

Now, you’re in the middle of a field of daisies and dandelions, wearing a light yellow frilly-sleeved dress that falls down to just above your ankles. Much like your surroundings, it has little white flowers peppered all over the skirt of it. The bodice of the dress fits your waist, and has a thin white belt with a white flower on it, to match. It shouldn’t be too long until he finds you, knowing he would get curious quickly.

A soft sigh escapes your lips, as you wonder what has him so stressed. Not a moment goes by, even if you’re not actively thinking, that you can’t wait to see him. And as if the universe had heard you, a car pulls up to the far side of the flower field, on the road of the highway. Well, not really a highway, more like a road that’s not in the city and it’s rarely crowded.

And that car is Dazai’s. He locks the car, then jumps over the flimsy fence. 

“Bellaaaa, how could you leave meeeee~” he whines, running closer to you as you walk towards him.

The moment he gets close enough, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him. You can’t muffle your giggles as he kisses all over your face and neck, smiling against your neck when he stops.

“So, what is all this?” he asks, pulling his lips away from your neck, but keeping his arms around your waist.

“Well, you could call it a date,” you trail off when you notice his shirt. A soft smile forms on your lips as you realise his shirt matched the exact colour of your dress. The shirt is plain, with a slightly darker coloured collar and end of the short sleeves. You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the slightly mocking voice of your lover.

“Love, you’re staring.” he teases, getting an eye roll from you.

“Oh, sorry, I was just confused as to how you knew what shirt to wear. Y’know, the one we bought that specifically matched this dress.” 

A soft smile forms on his lips as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head. He always knew how to divert the conversation, as he does in this one.

“Lets just say I checked your closet and the dress you’re wearing now was missing so I guessed you were wearing it and wore this one, in hopes to match.” he chuckles, watching your expression change to a slightly shocked one. He really did go out of his way to make sure you two match, just like you asked. Your shock doesn’t last for long, it becomes a giggle.

“Hm? What’s so funny, bella-donna?” he asks, keeping one arm wrapped around your waist as he uses his other hand to fix your hair. He watches as you keep giggling, the way your eyes close and a faint pink hue dusts your cheeks. One word he would use to describe you was most definitely beautiful. For the other, a word anyone else could use to describe him could be smitten, or even mesmerised. 

“Eh, nothing. Enough of that, I have something to show you!” you pull away from his hug, taking his hand as you lead him to where you were making little flower creations. He slightly tilts his head, watching you lean down to grab something, then stand back up. You gesture for him to lean down a bit, he does as you instruct. You carefully place the flowers on his head, then let him stand back up.

“What is it?” he asks, adjusting it on the crown of his head. You smile in response, taking another one and placing it on your own head.

“A flower crown! I made a few earlier, so we can match!” 

If you ask him, your eyes were almost sparkling. In such admiration, no words are exchanged, just a gesture. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips. It catches you by surprise, but who would resist a kiss from him? Your star-eyed boyfriend. And if you look closely, his eyes only glimmer when you’re around. You kiss him back, a smile unable to keep itself off your lips.

taglist: @jomamaofficial , @xansposts

likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated!! <3

© fishii-writes 2024

[visceravalentines]

sugar stuck in your teeth

They're grimy and tired and Benson's neck is sore. Randy gives him a shoulder rub and thinks hard about the allure of being a biological organism.

2.5k words. canon divergence, boys on the run. established relationship. implied sexual content, nothing explicit. sweat and oil and general nasty. sharing of a toothbrush. so fluffy i'm spinning it up and putting it on a stick and selling it at a carnival. read on ao3 here if that's more your speed.

They spend a full day on the road. Seven hours across Texas through scrub and sand. Nothing to see. No end in sight. Randy falls asleep in the dead-eyed sun of mid-afternoon and wakes up in the dark, dry air whipping through the car from Benson's window rolled all the way down. 

"Hey." Randy sits up, disoriented, mouth gummy and tasting of bygone Mountain Dew, bladder fit to burst. "Why didn't you wake me up? You've been driving for hours."

"Didn't want to stop." Benson's voice is rough. Randy can read the exhaustion in his posture, the way he grips the wheel with both hands. "Besides, you looked like you could use it."

Randy shifts in his seat. He hasn't slept well all week. "Well…it's my turn now. Let me take over."

"Nah." Benson rolls his neck slowly. "Town's up here in like ten minutes. Figure we stop for the night."

Randy peers through the bug-splattered windshield and sees lights in the near distance. "You wanna find a motel?"

"I'd fucking love a motel. Gimme that lukewarm shower and a box spring mattress. Fucking luxury."

As it turns out, they get none of that. The only place in town has a sign that says Closed and no lights on in the lobby. Doors all locked, despite Benson's best efforts to rattle them open. 

He doesn't say a word, doesn't even curse, just slumps defeated back to the car with Randy in tow. "You want the backseat or the front?"

"Benson, I slept for hours, I can–"

"There's not another town for forty miles and if I spend one more second on that fucking highway I'm gonna peel the skin off my face."

Randy doesn't argue. "I'll take the front."

"You sure?" Benson tosses a weary look at him over his shoulder. He squeezes the back of his neck and winces. 

Randy nods. "Yeah, I'm sure." 

The front sucks. You either have to fold your legs to fit around the steering wheel, or risk nailing the thing with your arm or your head. One time he hit the horn with his knee and scared them both so bad they ended up packing up and driving through the night because neither one could fall back asleep. 

He's had plenty of rest. Benson should get the back. 

They leave the car parked in the rear lot of the motel and pick their way through the scrub in the dark to take a piss, elbow-to-elbow. Randy barely feels self-conscious anymore. At the start he used to walk ten paces away and make Benson turn around. But that seems silly now. Benson's seen and touched every inch of him. This is nothing.

Benson zips up and takes off down the sidewalk with a haphazard sense of purpose. Randy has to jog a little to catch up. Benson holds out his arm and he ducks beneath it, the weight comfortable across his shoulders. By now Randy feels like he belongs there, pinned against his side. 

He reeks. They both do. It's been three, almost four days since they last had a shower, been making do with baby wipes and clean underwear since they left Tennessee. Randy almost can't stand it. Back home, he showered every day, sometimes twice a day if work was rough. Right now, he could scrape the grime off himself with a fingernail. 

He's adjusting to this level of awareness of his own body, like he's just now cognizant of the way his skin fits. It makes him sort of anxious. But he's coping. He doesn't really have a choice. 

And it's funny–Randy doesn't mind Benson's stench at all. He's uncomfortable with his own stink, but he actually thinks Benson smells kind of…good, maybe. In a gross kind of way. It's such a foreign concept that he keeps inhaling a little too deep at this distance just to prove it to himself. 

"What're you doing later?" Benson asks, oblivious. 

Randy clears his throat. "Um…not much." 

"Oh. Huh." Benson squints down the road towards the distant light of a gas station, the only thing in town that looks alive besides the two of them. "Well, how about I take you to dinner?" 

A smile steals its way onto Randy's lips. He hooks his pinkie into Benson's pocket. "That might be nice." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

Benson takes a deep, thoughtful breath. "There's this place…Seven-Eleven?" He casts a dramatic sidelong glance in Randy's direction. "You heard of it?" 

"Yeah, I…I think so." 

"It's just fantastic. The beer list? Unbelievable. And the atmosphere, well…there's really nothing like it." He's talking with his hands, throwing them off balance. Randy stumbles happily along with him. 

"I don't know, um…I've heard they don't have Pringles. Like, the big can. Just the little ones." 

Benson scoffs. "Well, now, don't you worry your pretty little head about that. You can get two of the little ones if you want. It's on me." 

"Wow." 

"I know." 

"That's–that's really generous." 

"Well, you're gonna have to put out." 

Randy coughs out a laugh, looks at his shoes to hide the heat in his face. "Sounds, um…sounds fair." 

"Randy, come on." Benson laughs, gives his shoulder a shake. "You're giving it up for two cans of Pringles? You gotta know your worth, man." 

He'd give it up for less, but that's beside the point. "Maybe toss in some peach rings and we have a deal." 

Benson gives him a squeeze. "Fuck yeah, alright. Now we're talkin'." 

They pick their way through the snack aisles of the gas station, select a few staples they aren't sick of yet. Benson salutes the clerk behind the counter like he's an American hero. They make their way back down the road to the motel in silence save for the crunching of chips and cellophane. 

It's a beautiful night, still warm from the sun, everything orange beneath the sodium streetlights. Not a soul in sight save for them. This town looks like every other one and Randy likes that, likes that it's starting to feel like coming home when they stop for the night in a new place with a single stoplight. 

They lean against the trunk of the Chrysler and pass the Big Gulp back and forth. It's too late for caffeine so they got root beer, extra ice, because Benson likes to fish it out and chew on it. There's too many streetlights to really see the stars, but that doesn't stop Randy from trying. He sucks the sour off a peach ring and feels a little bit nauseous and a lot filthy and an overall, bone-deep sense of contentment. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Benson twist his head, trying to roll out his neck again. It's not the sharp jerk of his familiar tic, not quite, but it makes Randy nervous. He's been doing it all night. He wonders if it was something he said, something he did. He still doesn't know what exactly he's trying to shrug off every time, but he knows enough to tread that ground lightly.

"You okay?" he asks, tries to make it casual. He swallows the peach ring whole and has to fight it all the way down his esophagus. 

"Yeah." Benson nods, winces slightly. "Yeah. Just sore." He grips the back of his neck and stretches, lips hitched in a grimace. 

Randy can imagine. Slumped in a car days on end, cracking the damn thing all the time. He sets the Big Gulp on the trunk, thinks, hesitates. Commits. 

"Would you, um…would you want me to rub it out for you?" 

Benson looks at him warily as he considers the offer. He's slow to answer, but Randy is patient. Doesn't push it. Lets him think about it. 

Finally he nods. "Sure. Why not." 

Randy clambers up on the trunk and sits behind him. Benson leans back between his legs, rests his elbows on Randy's knees, hangs his head forward. The space between them is awkward all of the sudden. Too close, not close enough. Too many clothes on. Too much skin exposed. 

Randy is nervous and he's not sure why. He thinks fleetingly of their first time, his first time, and the way Benson's hands hovered an inch over his skin and shook a little bit. This isn't that, but it feels kind of the same. "You can…tell me to stop if you want. Whatever you want. It's okay." 

"How about you start and then we'll see." 

Randy brushes the curls at the base of Benson's neck hesitantly with his thumb before he wraps his hand around the muscle of his shoulder, gives an experimental squeeze. "Right…there?" 

"Higher." 

He moves his hand up and tries again. "There?" 

Benson hisses through his teeth, cringes. "Yeah. Fuck." 

Randy sets his hands on either side of his neck and squeezes gently. 

"Yeah. Right there."

Benson's all tension beneath the skin, stiff and warm under his cold fingers. Randy thinks about the color of his muscles, the white of bone underneath them. He's pretty sure he's never touched anyone like this before, not even Benson, not like this. Not friendly or sexual, just…intimate. 

"If you want me to stop, just–just say so, okay?" 

Benson grunts an affirmative. His skin is oily and his muscles are taut as bowstrings, so riddled with knots it feels like buckshot lodged in his flesh. Randy presses his thumbs in deep and pushes up along his spine, again and again, feels a flush of satisfaction as Benson melts back against the car. 

"Fuck," he moans. 

"Hurts?" 

"Yeah. Don't stop." 

Randy's nothing if not good at taking orders. He falls into a rhythm, slow and steady, works over his neck and shoulders and back again. Benson swears up a storm and lets out a low whimper whenever he hits a sore spot. 

"Sorry," Randy murmurs every time. 

Benson never replies, but that's okay. He doesn't tell him to stop either.

At first his hands are balled into fists against Randy's knees, but after a while they go slack. He relaxes, finally, allows Randy and the car to support his weight. It's a selfish thought, but Randy hopes he's the first person to do this for him, or at least the first in a long, long time. Benson doesn't have a lot of firsts left. He wants this one. 

Before long, his hands are cramping and he worries he's going to rub his neck raw but doesn't want to stop touching him, doesn't want to forfeit this new familiarity with his body. So he eases up, cheats a little bit, combs his fingers through his greasy hair and scratches at his scalp. It makes his chest feel tight, the way Benson leans into his touch with his eyes closed and groans under his breath. 

When he finally pulls away, Randy tries to subdue his disappointment, until he turns around and reaches up to hook a hand behind Randy's head. 

"C'mere," Benson mumbles, tugging him close and meeting him halfway for a kiss that tastes like peach rings and root beer. Randy grips his forearm and for a second, in his mind's eye, everything drops out and disappears into the void, save for them and the car and the stars. 

When he breaks the kiss Benson doesn't let him go, holds him in place with their foreheads pressed together. Neither of them speak. Randy focuses so hard on Benson's breathing he forgets to breathe himself. There are words, but they creep by in silence like animals in the dark. 

"We still got water in the back?" Benson says at last. 

"Mmhm." 

"I'm gonna brush my teeth. Change into my jammies." His jammies are a pair of basketball shorts made of more holes than fabric. 

"Okay," Randy says. 

Neither one of them moves. The crickets chat amongst themselves in the brush. 

"You still want the front?" Benson asks. 

"Sure." 

"Thanks." 

"No problem." 

Benson sighs softly through his nose. He lets go of him and steps back, shuffles from one foot to the other and stares at Randy for a long time, hair sticking up in all directions. Finally he goes to dig through the backseat for the water jug. 

"Looks like a bunch of fuckin' raccoons live in here," he mutters. 

Randy chuckles, looks at his hands palm-up on his lap. He's got Benson's skin beneath his nails, his sweat and oil worked into the whorls of his fingerprints. He's never been so close to another person. Spent his whole life maintaining a safe distance from everyone around him, treating his body like a blast zone. Now the idea of distance is laughable. They share everything but toothbrushes. Hell, he's been inside him. Randy always figured he would never reach that level of connection with anybody. 

He brings his hand to his face and hesitates for just a second before he sticks his thumb in his mouth. The salt of Benson's sweat is familiar on his tongue. He tastes his skin on his skin. He knows him. He knows him. And Benson knows him right back. 

He's craved this sort of intimacy his whole life. Laid awake alone countless nights and ached for it, mourned bitterly for what he never had and assumed he never would. But now he lies awake with Benson beside him and basks in how wrong he was. In how real he feels in his arms, wearing a second skin of grit and spit and whatever else. 

He doesn't want to sleep in the front. 

Randy twists to call over his shoulder. "Hey…um, Benson?" 

"Yeah?" he says around his toothbrush. 

"You think we could…both fit in the back?" 

Benson spits on the asphalt. "No." 

"Well…could we try?" 

Benson snorts. "Fuckin' clingy, huh?" he says, but he sounds amused. Randy feels those dark eyes appraising him like a pair of hands fumbling at his clothes. He tugs absentmindedly at the collar of his shirt. Well, Benson's shirt. "Yeah. We can try." 

Randy hops off the trunk and joins him in the evening routine, bumping shoulders, bumping elbows, their voices small and close in the night. 

"Gonna sweat to death together back there," Benson says. 

"That's okay." 

"If you say so. Think I might skip the jammies. That cool?" 

"That's–that's fine, yeah. That's good. Hey…is that my toothbrush?" 

"No, yours is green."

"That is green." 

"No it's not." 

"Yes it is, the light makes it look weird." 

Benson looks at the thing again. "Oh. Whoops. Does it really matter?"

Randy gives this serious consideration, thinks about his mouth and everywhere it's been. Thinks about the state of the rest of him. Thinks about pressing his body to Benson's in the backseat, sticky with sweat, breath on his neck. 

He wants to say yes, it matters, but he doesn't feel it. He tastes salt on his tongue instead.

"I guess not," he shrugs.

Benson hands it to him. 

"Your turn, then." 

[orions-choker]

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Serial Killers, Murder, Obsessions, Yandere tendencies, more to be added.

Chapter One

Returning home after a whirlwind year at college had been bittersweet. There was a certain warmth and comfort that Y/N hadn’t realized she missed as soon as she saw her parents waiting car that afternoon. There was a building excitement to see her own bed once more and spend time with her childhood dog once more. On the opposite end of the spectrum came with the innate sense of losing her freedom.

It was made clear to her on that ride home that no matter how much she claimed to be an adult at nineteen years of age, staying out late each weekend, drinking and dates, wouldn’t be tolerated. Under her parents roof she was a child once more. The rules came with a valid reasoning though. While Y/N had been away two states over her hometown had been rocked to the core by something sinister.

“Sorry, how many women has it been?” Y/N asked incredulously, leaning forward from where she sat in the backseat of her dads car. Her eyes locked onto her mothers face, the worried wrinkles that settled into her face seemed to age her years despite the short time it had been since she last saw her.

leaning forward her mother turned the radio down. A heavy sigh had her shoulders slumping “Six bodies found, three other women missing.” She explained, her bottom lip was chapped, skin peeling from where she seemed to incessantly pick at it. “We discussed sending you money to stay near your school this summer instead.”

With an aggravated groan her father pressed a little harder on the gas, sending the car lurching forward as it switched gears. “Don’t scare the girl Jesus, it's not that bad.” Her father attempted to assure her of her safety poorly. “You’ll be fine, our neighborhood has always been safe.”

“I’m not so sure with those, what do you call them? Metalheads? That the Hammett boy brings around.” Her mothers mention of her neighbor surprised Y/N. Kirk had been Y/N’s neighbor since she was about ten years old, a few years older than herself.

They had barely interacted in her youth, in part because of the small age difference, and also because of how shy she had been, harboring a small crush on him until she reached her teenage years. He had been unassuming though, quiet and reserved. She couldn’t even recall hearing his voice the entire time they had lived beside each other.

To hear about the crowd he had associated himself with now surprised her. “Metalheads, really mom?” Y/N chuckled, leaning back into her seat once more. Outside the windows she began to see the familiar scenery of home. “Didn’t realize you were so judge-y.”

Her piercing eyes locked onto Y/N’s as she spun in her seat. “You would be too if you saw the pictures they’re posting in the papers of these young women butchered.” her tone was cold and scolding. There was an underlying fear beneath the words.

“I’m not here to argue with your mom, but good job succumbing to the satanic panic bullshit.” She rolled her eyes, choking back a laugh as her mom gasped at her language. “Plus Kirk couldn’t hurt a fly. I doubt he hangs out with monsters and serial killers.”

The car fell silent after that, a thick tension falling over the three of them. The turn off the highway down the suburban streets brought her closer and closer to home. Familiar yards and trees prefaced her arrival. Pulling into the asphalt driveway of her childhood home had her bouncing in her seat.

Before the engine shut off Y/N was barreling out of the car, ignoring the warnings to slow down. Looming over her was the cozy slice of suburbia she had missed amongst the busy city life. With a loud whoop and holler she pushed open the front door. “Mavey Baby!” She called out excitedly, hearing the frantic scratching of nails along the hardwood floor.

Coming around the corner was a large golden Labrador mix. The dog was a mess of floppy ears and flapping jowls as it tackled Y/N to the floor with an excited bark. In a fit of giggles she allowed the gentle mauling to take place. Her face nearly soaked by the rough tongue as the two excitedly greeted each other.

“I know girl! I know I missed you too!” She sighed happily and scratched the fur behind her ears. Y/N pulled herself up from the floor in time for her father to enter with her heavy bags. “Thanks daddy!” She smiled sweetly at the clearly agitated man.

He ignored her with a grunt, making his way up the stairs slowly. She followed him with a bounce in each of her steps. As much as she had tried to make her dorm room feel like home, nothing would compare to her room. Her sanctuary.

It was just how she left it, despite her mothers warnings she would turn it into a home gym. Her dusty pink walls covered in art she had done, posters of bands and movies that shaped her teenage years. Her duvet covered in a light floral pattern, pillows piled high amongst her stuffed animals.

Y/N pushed past her father as he dropped the bags to the floor, running to the desk on the far side of the room. She fiddled with the radio sitting there, there was a soft crackle before the room filled with music. By the time she turned around the room had been left empty, allowing her to rummage through her bags and begin organizing.

The carpet was soft beneath her as she sat on the floor. Mindlessly she pulled her clothes and makeup from the bags, placing them in neat piles around her. The music from her radio fizzled out, the voices of the town's radio hosts replacing the noise. Their usually pleasant tone was replaced with something somber.

“More news this morning, another body found, confirmed to be the remains of-” Y/N’s ears perked up, her hands stilling as she paused her task. She recognized the name, an older girl she had seen around town. It was heartbreaking news. “In a similar fashion to the previous open cases she was found gutted and left in the riverways. This brings the growing number of cases to seven. Our condolences to the family.” It seemed cruel the way it transitioned into the fun beat of the latest Prince song.

“Condolences my ass,” Y/N muttered under her breath, standing up to change the channel. As she approached the desk she peered out the large open window, it overlooked the side of her house and the shared backyard with the neighbors.

Sitting in the backyard on the Hammett’s side of the property was a small group of people, Kirk's friends she could surmise. A lot of wild teased hair, black denim and beer cans scattered about. It seemed tame compared to her mother’s complaints. Curiously enough she couldn’t spot her neighbor, eyes scanning amongst the people for the scrawny nerdy boy.

A pair of big brown eyes seemed to find hers as she looked. A pair of eyes she was familiar enough with when they were behind large wire framed glasses. Her mouth popped open in a small gasp. His curly black hair had grown out, falling past his shoulders, his lanky limbs looked like they finally fit his body now. She almost didn’t believe it was him stretched out across the plastic chair, in tight black jeans and a leather jacket slung around his shoulders. Not until he smiled at her, giving her a small wave.

The acknowledgment that she had been staring had Y/N dropping to the floor out of view of the window. Her face pressed against the carpet and her heart seemed to beat erratically as if it was trying to escape her ribcage. Thoughts swirling through her mind finally landing on the conclusion it was unfair he had become so pretty in the year that she had been gone.

Y/N didn’t dare move from her position until her mother appeared in the door frame. Her eyebrow quirked, hands placed on her hips. “What are you doing Y/N?” Her voice was flat and unimpressed.

Slowly she pushed herself off the ground, avoiding looking out the window once more. Smiling tightly at her mom she responded. “Clearly I missed my room so much I had to get reacquainted with the floors.” She gestured down to the imprint she had left on the carpet. “What are you doing mom?” Y/N eyed where her mom stood, warning her not to cross the invisible boundary into her room.

“Telling you, your dad is Barbequing tonight and you need to come help me outside.” She turned on her heel, shooting Y/N an equally testing look as she barked the order.

“Outside? Like in the back?” Y/N felt panic rise in her throat like bile. She could not go out there.

Her mother scoffed annoyed. “Yes outside Y/N, god forbid you spend time with your family after not seeing us all year.” The way her voice clipped told Y/N there was no escaping this cruel and unjust fate. She rolled her head back and groaned loudly. Still obediently she followed her mother down the stairs. “Your grandparents and cousins are coming over to welcome you back.”

The house was empty downstairs, her dad already outside starting up the grill. In the kitchen were stacks of plastic cutlery and paper plates, pitchers ready for lemonade and a large salad bowl. “God mom it’s not that big of a deal.” Y/N grumbled, gathering the dishes in her arms and heading towards the sliding glass door that led to their back deck.

If she simply never turned towards the neighbors side of the yard she could ignore the embarrassment creeping up her cheeks. The warm afternoon wind whipped up her sundress lightly as she stepped onto the deck where her father was. Very faintly she could hear the hum of the music across the way, easily tuned out if they were to put something on of their own. Still her Mothers face twitched in annoyance.

“Here dad, brought you your tongs.” Y/N said, handing the utensil to her dad. Her neck felt stiff as she purposefully avoided the gaze she could feel burning a hole in the back of her head. “Do you guys need me out here until everyone shows up?” She whined lightly, looking at her mom with pleading eyes.

Her mom hissed at her. “Y/N knock it off, don’t be a brat.”

Grabbing the tongs from her hand, her dad gave her a questioning look. He opened his mouth to speak before Y/N quickly shook her head. She strode across the deck, throwing herself into the seat of the porch swing causing it to rock gently. Her parents gave each other an exasperated look.

In her peripheral vision she could barely make out the shapes of the people in the yard beside theirs, still it felt as though she could feel Kirk’s heavy gaze upon her. Idly her fingers picked at the stitching along the hem of her dress, tracing the shapes of the small floral pattern.

Y/N couldn’t take it, her skin felt as if it was on fire. Her eyes snapped up, drawn to Kirk’s like she was being pulled by an otherworldly force. His eyebrow raised, a small smirk settling on his face. He raised a beer in his hand, gesturing his head in invitation.

With wide eyes Y/N looked between her parents who had busied themselves preparing for guests. Looking back to the boy across the way he shrugged at her with a smile. Her body rose from its seat without a second thought, Y/N frowned, feeling betrayed by her own feet as she took the steps down into the grassy backyard. “Y/N? What are you doing sweetheart?” Her dad’s voice rang out, drawing the attention of her mom as well.

With a sputter Y/N was able to choke out the words, gesturing lamely to the small gathering of people where Kirk sat. “Just going to say hi to the neighbors?” Her voice and confidence wavered. She tore off, speed walking away from her mothers complaints. The grass tickled her bare ankles as she approached Kirk's yard, clearly less maintained than her own family's picture perfect lawn. She could see Kirk’s smile grow wider as she approached. Since when was he so expressive and…confident?

“Hey Y/N, long time no see.” Kirk’s voice nearly betrayed his outward appearance. It matched perfectly to her previous image of him. Soft and boyish, a little higher pitched. It was cute and did little to ease her nerves. He stood from his seat, reaching into the cooler beside him and offering her drink.

She eyed the can nervously, remembering her parents warnings of being alcohol free this summer. She shook her head with a polite smile. “Ahh, sorry no thanks I have family coming over in a bit.” She excused herself. “Good to see you too.” inwardly she cursed herself for the way her voice seemed to raise in pitch, sounding like a frightened mouse.

Feeling incredibly out of place amongst the crowd that Kirk had gathered she shuffled her weight awkwardly from one foot to another. Kirk’s smile didn’t fade as he dropped the drink back into the cooler. “All good, hopefully I didn’t steal you away from anything too important?” He questioned, pulling up a chair for her across from his own.

The music was louder now, a heavy pleasant thrum to her ears. She wasn’t all too familiar with metal but it was enjoyable. She sat down across from him, smoothing her dress down. “No, not really, it wasn't my idea.” She sighed. “I haven’t been gone that long. I don't see the big deal.” She grumbled with a small pout.

Kirk’s small chuckle deepend the blush on her skin. “How has college been?” He asked, leaning forward on his knees as he listened to her intently. The attention sent a pleasant tingling across her skin.

“It's been great!” Y/N grinned at him. “Honestly just getting out of the house and this town has been so freeing. Of course I miss it sometimes but I don’t think I’ll be coming back here when I graduate if you know what I mean.” She didn’t miss the small frown on his face as she spoke. “How has uh…everything been here?” She asked awkwardly.

Leaning back in his chair Kirk took a sip from his drink. “If you're asking what I'm doing, music, I play guitar.” He explained casually. “It isn’t much right now but it helps mom pay the bills.” he gestured towards the house. There was an unanswered tension in the air.

Y/N picked at the exposed skin of her knees as she spoke. “So I heard everything goin’ on in the news lately” She spoke softly. Kirk's shoulders stiffened lightly, turning to her with concern in his eyes. “I've heard about a lot of that lately in the bigger cities but I never thought about it here.” It was true across the news she had heard of the evil crimes committed across the country, but it seemed like a problem so far away, not one that she would face here.

“Yeah…” Kirk finally huffed out, swirling his drink in his hand. “It’s pretty fucked.” There was a hesitation in his words. “I didn’t know any of them personally but mutual friends you know.” The frown he had made Y/N regret bringing it up.

Opening her mouth to quickly change the subject she heard the rowdy yelling of her cousins fill the air. She turned around to look to her yard, seeing her distant family arriving. “Ahh shit, that's my cue to go.” She stood up quickly. “Talk to you later?” She asked hopefully.

The soft smile he gave her had her heat fluttering once more. “Yeah for sure, don’t be a stranger.” He waved at her once more as she turned towards her house. Something had shifted in her. A boy she hadn't paid attention to since they were children suddenly occupied her mind once more.

For the entirety of her dinner she was spaced out, eyes glazed over as she smiled dumbly down at the table. Her leg bouncing excitedly causing her mother to place a sturdy hand on her knee, shooting her an agitated glare. Still she couldn’t be bothered to care, not when a certain curly haired boy was stealing glances at her all night.

[zapreportsblog]

Can you do Rusty nail x reader where the reader was with Lewis and them when they prank rusty and rusty chase them and kip napped reader and the reader falls in love with rusty.

Hope you understand ?

❝sweet thang❞

✭ pairing : rusty nail x reader

✭ fandom : slashers, joyride

✭ summary : (Y/n) told the boys it wouldn’t be a good idea to prank that nice man on the radio but as the saying goes boy will be boys. Now look at what’s happened, she’s been kidnapped, one of them is already dead and she’s slowly falling in love with the very man who kidnapped her

✭ authors note : I surprisingly enjoy writing for rusty mail though he is a character I hadn’t expected to write for I like the challenge of having to write for him ya know?

✭ slashers masterlist

The road stretched out ahead, seemingly endless, under the vast expanse of the starlit sky. (Y/N) sat in the back of the old, beat-up van with her younger sister, Venna, as they continued their cross-country journey with their two travel companions, Lewis and Ronald. The four of them had embarked on this adventure with little more than a whim and a desire to see the world. They had quickly become a tight-knit group, navigating the highways and byways together.

One particularly quiet night, as they cruised down a desolate stretch of road somewhere in the heartland of America, boredom hung heavily in the air. Lewis, the mischievous one of the group, couldn't take it any longer. He leaned forward and switched on the intercom, a relic from a bygone era that came with the van.

"Hey, (Y/N), Venna, you up for a bit of fun?" he asked, a sly grin forming on his face.

(Y/N) exchanged a puzzled glance with her sister, Venna, who was seated beside her. "What kind of fun are you thinking, Lewis?" she inquired cautiously.

Ronald chimed in from the driver's seat, his curiosity piqued. "Well we can radio in some trucks guys and have a little fun with them? How about we have a little fun and prank them and mess with them over the intercom?"

Venna was immediately against the idea. She had always been the voice of reason in the group. "That's mean, guys. We shouldn't do that."

(Y/N) nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that doesn't sound nice. We should leave the trucker alone."

Lewis and Ronald exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. Then, with mischievous grins, they turned back to the sisters.

"Come on, it'll be harmless fun," Lewis insisted. "We won't hurt him, just mess with him a bit."

Ronald added, "And besides, it's just a bit of excitement on this never-ending road."

Venna sighed, realizing that her protests weren't gaining much ground. She turned to (Y/N), her eyes pleading. "We should stand together on this, (Y/N). Let's not do this."

(Y/N) hesitated, torn between her loyalty to her sister and the allure of an adventure. Finally, she relented, albeit reluctantly. "Alright, but let's not be too mean. Just a little harmless prank."

Lewis and Ronald exchanged triumphant grins as they tuned into the CB radio. Ronald picked up the microphone, and his voice crackled through the intercom, "Breaker, breaker. This is Sweet Thang and Cherry, two lonely travelers in need of some company. Any good-hearted trucker out there want to keep us company tonight?"

The intercom remained silent for a moment, and Venna shot (Y/N) a disapproving look. Then, a deep, gravelly voice filled the van's speakers. "Well, Sweet Thang and Cherry, this here's Rusty Nail. I reckon I could use some company myself. Where y'all headed?"

(Y/N) and Venna exchanged nervous glances as they continued the charade. "We're just drifters, Rusty," (Y/N) replied with a feigned Southern drawl. "Headin' wherever the wind takes us."

Venna reluctantly chimed in, "You can call me Cherry, by the way."

As the night rolled on, they continued their playful banter with Rusty Nail, weaving tales of their supposed travels and misadventures. Little did they know that this innocent prank would lead to unexpected twists and turns on their journey down the open road.

The rhythmic hum of the car's engine served as a lullaby, coaxing (Y/N) and Venna into a drowsy state. They were nestled in the backseat, cocooned in blankets and half-asleep, their journey to the unknown stretching out ahead of them.

Up front, Ronald and Lewis exchanged mischievous glances. Lewis, the eternal optimist, was convinced that this long road trip would be their chance for an unforgettable adventure. Ronald, more practical and a little skeptical, had agreed to go along for the ride, quite literally.

As the miles blurred by, Ronald fiddled with the intercom system. An unexpected voice crackled through the speakers, gravelly and worn, like it had seen more miles than the truck it belonged to.

"Breaker, breaker, this is Rusty Nail, anyone out there in the great unknown?"

Ronald and Lewis exchanged glances again, but this time it was different. The name "Rusty Nail" had caught their attention, it was the truck driver from last night.

"Hey, girls," Ronald said, a glint of excitement in his eyes. "You think we should respond? Rusty Nail sounds like he's in need of some more company from Cherry and Sweet Thang.”

(Y/N) and Venna exchanged puzzled looks, still half-asleep, but curiosity piqued.

Venna, bored out her mind gives (y/n) a mischievous smile, nudged (Y/N). "What do you think? Should we play along? It could be fun."

In the beginning she was against it but having been on the road for a few hours she was starting to grow bored again plus what was the harm in it. They spoke with him once already and he seemed harmless.

(Y/N) yawned and stretched, then leaned toward the intercom. "Sure, why not? What's the harm?"

Ronald and Lewis exchanged victorious grins.

(Y/N) and Venna exchanged glances one more time, now fully awake and realizing they were about to play a part in this peculiar radio encounter. They'd have to think on their feet.

Venna picked up the intercom's microphone and adopted a sultry tone. "Hey there, Rusty Nail, this is Cherry, and I've got my friend Sweets here with me.” What's on your mind?"

In the front seat, Ronald and Lewis exchanged impressed glances. Their sleepy road trip had just taken a wild turn, and it was anyone's guess where Rusty Nail's stories might lead them.

(Y/N) continued to converse with Rusty Nail, maintaining her playful persona as Cherry. But as the minutes turned into hours, a strange feeling began to settle within her. It was a mix of guilt and unease, like she was playing a game that she didn't fully understand.

Feeling the discomfort gnawing at her, she finally decided it was time to bow out. She leaned into the microphone and spoke with a hint of sadness, "Sweet Thang over and out, Rusty Nail. It's been real nice talking to you. We'll catch you on the flip side."

Venna, catching on to her sister's change in demeanor, followed suit, her voice a little quieter, "Yeah, Cherry over and out too. We'll talk later, Rusty."

In the front seats, Ronald noticed the shift in mood and glanced at (Y/N) with concern. "Hey, what's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked.

(Y/N) sighed, feeling a pang of guilt. "I just... I feel bad for doing this. We don't even know this guy, and we're pretending to be someone we're not. It's like we're messing with his emotions."

Ronald smiled gently and patted her shoulder. "Don't worry, it's all in good fun. Rusty Nail's probably loving the company. And if we ever cross paths, we'll make it right."

Their conversation was interrupted as they pulled into a dimly lit gas station, the flickering neon lights casting an eerie glow. (Y/N) decided to stay in the car while the others went to refuel.

As the others left the car, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel the weight of her actions. She decided to radio Rusty Nail once more, her voice laced with sincerity, "Hey, Rusty, it's Sweet Thang again. I just wanted to apologize for cutting the conversation off so soon. It's not that I'm not enjoying talking to you; I'm just not all that social, you know?"

Rusty Nail's voice crackled back, understanding in his tone, "It's all good, Sweets. I can be that way too sometimes. No hard feelings. We'll chat whenever you're up for it. Keep the rubber side down out there."

(Y/N) managed a small smile, feeling a bit better about the situation. Maybe Rusty Nail wasn't as affected as she had feared. She settled back into the car, the road stretching out before her, ready for whatever adventures lay ahead.

(Y/N) had fallen into a deep sleep in her room at the motel, the exhaustion from the day's events finally catching up to her. Meanwhile, Venna, Lewis, and Ronald remained awake, the mischievous idea they had hatched continuing to brew.

With (Y/N) out of the picture, the three of them took turns calling into Rusty Nail's channel. Each time, they spun a new tale, making their fictitious adventures more outrageous with every exchange. Rusty Nail seemed to revel in the companionship, his gruff voice lightening up as he shared his own tall tales.

As the night wore on, Ronald whispered to Venna, "Why don't we invite Rusty Nail to our motel room for some fun? It's just a prank, and it'll give him a story to tell."

Venna hesitated, glancing at Lewis for guidance. After a moment, Lewis nodded in agreement. Venna picked up the intercom, her voice laced with faux excitement, "Hey, Rusty, we've got a wild idea. Why don't you swing by the Cherry Motel? Room 205. We'll have a blast!"

Rusty Nail, always up for an adventure, agreed with enthusiasm. "You got it, Cherry. I'll be there in a jiffy."

They parked in the motel parking lot, and Lewis, always the caring one, helped (Y/N) to the room, ensuring she was comfortable before retiring to his own.

Each of them had their own room, and they settled in for the night, their prank on Rusty Nail ready to unfold.

Later that night, as the motel's parking lot lay shrouded in darkness, the roar of a truck engine shattered the silence. It was Rusty Nail, rolling into the lot with anticipation.

The three friends watched from the shadows as Rusty Nail climbed out of his truck and approached Room 205, a smile on his face. He knocked on the door, not suspecting a thing.

When the door swung open, he was met with laughter and camera flashes. The room was filled with the blinding light of smartphones, capturing his surprised expression.

Ronald, caught up in the moment, couldn't resist taking it a step further. As Rusty Nail retreated to his truck in embarrassment, Ronald hastily scribbled a note on a piece of paper and taped it to Rusty's truck door. It read "Loser."

The boys quickly retreated back to their rooms, and Venna and Lewis joined (Y/N) in her room.

(Y/N) was half-awake when they entered. She mumbled, "What did you guys do?"

Ronald, with a nervous laugh, explained, "We pulled a prank on Rusty, that's all. It was just a bit of fun."

But (Y/N) couldn't shake a growing unease. "You shouldn't have done that. What if he takes it the wrong way?"

Venna and Lewis reassured her that it was harmless fun, but (Y/N)'s bad feeling lingered. The night was filled with an unsettling tension as they waited to see if their prank had unintended consequences.

The unsettling tension from the previous night's prank hung heavy in the air as (Y/N), Venna, Lewis, and Ronald hastily checked out of the Cherry Motel and booked it to another one several miles down the road. (Y/N) felt responsible for the prank that had gone awry, even though she had been half-asleep when it happened.

As they settled into their new accommodations, (Y/N) decided to take matters into her own hands. She picked up the intercom, her voice filled with sincerity, and radioed Rusty Nail, "Hey, Rusty, this isSweet Thang. I wanted to apologize for Cherry's actions and the boys. I had no idea they would do something like that."

A crackling pause filled the intercom, and then Rusty's voice returned, surprisingly calm, "It's okay, sweet thang. You didn't have any say in their prank, so I'll spare you."

"(Y/N)" hesitated, slightly confused by his choice of words. "Spare me? What do you mean?"

Rusty Nail chuckled, a hint of mischief in his voice. "I'm not a vengeful person, but I do enjoy a good game. So, how about this? We'll play a little game, you and me. The boys won't even know. I'll make sure they get what's coming to them."

(Y/N) felt a shiver of unease. She had no idea what Rusty had in mind, but she sensed it wouldn't be a simple matter. "What kind of game are we talking about, Rusty?"

Rusty Nail's voice held an eerie tone of amusement. "A game of wits, my dear. I'll give you a clue to start, and it'll lead you on a little scavenger hunt. The destination? Well, let's just say it's where the boys left their mark."

(Y/N) hesitated, her mind racing with uncertainty. She didn't want to involve herself further in this strange game, but she also didn't want to risk the boys facing any consequences for their ill-conceived prank.

After a moment of contemplation, she reluctantly agreed, "Alright, Rusty. I'll play your game. Just promise me it won't get out of hand."

Rusty Nail's laughter echoed through the intercom. "Don't you worry,sweetheart. It's all in good fun. You'll see. Now, let the game begin."

The atmosphere inside the motel room seemed to have turned icy as (Y/N) relayed the details of Rusty game. Her voice trembled with a bit of uneasement as she explained, "Rusty wants to play a game with us, and he's leaving clues too. The first clue was back at the Cherry Motel."

Venna, Lewis, and Ronald exchanged alarmed glances. They couldn't believe what they were hearing.

Dread hung in the air as they reluctantly decided to return to the Cherry Motel to follow the clue. The night had turned pitch-black, and the once-familiar surroundings now seemed menacing. As they approached the room where they had pulled the prank, a chill ran down their spines.

The door creaked open slowly, revealing a gruesome sight. A lifeless body lay sprawled on the floor, bathed in eerie moonlight. Shock and horror gripped them, and (Y/N) couldn't hold back a gasp.

Lewis, his voice barely above a whisper, radioed Rusty in disbelief, "What the hell have you done, Rusty? This isn't a game!"

Ronald's anger boiled over as he grabbed the intercom, his words sharp and accusing, "You sick fuck! What kind of game are you playing at?"

Rusty Nail's voice crackled back, his tone chillingly calm, "You like games, don't you, boy? Well, let's play."

With those ominous words, it became apparent that Rusty was no longer content with a simple prank. He had escalated things to a dangerous level, and now, they were all unwitting participants in a nightmarish game.

Fear clenched their hearts as they realized that Rusty was not going to let them off the hook easily. He had become the hunter, and they were his prey, trapped in a deadly game with no way out.

Lewis, Ronald, Venna, and (Y/N) had been on the road for hours, driving through a seemingly endless stretch of highway desperate to get away from earlier motel. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow across the landscape. The gas gauge in the car was dangerously close to empty, forcing them to make yet another stop for fuel.

As the car pulled into the gas station, (Y/N) let out a small sigh. She had grown tired of the constant fear gripping at her heart and longed for a moment of peace. "Hey, guys," she said, turning to the others. "I think I'll just stay in the car this time. I'll be fine."

Venna, always the protective one, looked concerned. "Are you sure? I know I said I had to use the bathroom but I can hold it if you want so you aren’t alone?”

“No it’s fine venna, plus I’m pretty sure you can get a UTI from that. I’ll be here, the boys wont be too far away from me and the bathrooms just over there so if I need you I can go there.”

“Are you sure?”

(Y/N) reassured her with a smile. "I'll be right here. Don't worry about me."

The boys, jumped out of the car and headed towards the gas station, promising to be quick. Ronald was the one to turne back and called out, "We won't be long. Stay safe, (Y/N)!"

With a nod, (Y/N) watched them disappear inside the store. She leaned back in her seat, gazing out the window at the passing cars. Moments turned into minutes, and soon she found herself growing restless.

Just as she was about to reach for her phone, a truck pulled into the station. The driver, a man wore a cap with his hair hidden underneath and a had an almost sinister grin imprinted on his lips and it seems he’s caught (Y/N)'s attention. He parked his truck next to her car, his eyes never leaving hers not that she could see it though she did feel a shiver run down her spine as she immediately regretted her decision to stay behind.

"Hey, sweets," the man said, stepping out of his truck and walking towards her. His voice was laced with a chilling menace. "You're all alone out here?"

(Y/N) tried to compose herself, but fear gripped her tightly. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her breathing growing shallow. She managed to stammer, "Wh-who are you?"

The man licked his lips, his gaze predatory. "It’s mee Sweet Thang, Rusty. And don't worry, sweetheart, I promised I wouldn't hurt you."

As Rusty approached, (Y/N) felt her body freeze with fear. She wanted to scream, to fight back, but her voice seemed to have vanished. The world around her turned blurry, and the last thing she saw before everything went black was Rusty's twisted grin.

The days had blurred into months since that fateful night when (Y/N) was taken by Rusty. She had no idea what had become of Lewis, Ronald, or Venna, her friends and sister who had been there that night. All she could remember were the anguished screams echoing from the shed, leaving behind a chilling silence that hung over her like a dark cloud.

Rusty had made a sinister promise to her: he wouldn't harm her physically. However, he had found another way to keep her under his control. He had chained her at the ankles, ensuring that she couldn't venture far from his clutches. The rusty iron links weighed her down both physically and mentally, a constant reminder of her captivity.

In the beginning, she had fought relentlessly, clawing at her chains, shouting for help, and trying to escape every chance she got. But Rusty was cunning, always one step ahead, and her attempts were met with harsh consequences. He wasn't afraid to use violence, even if it meant only a bruise here or there. Each time she resisted, it seemed to amuse him even more.

As the weeks turned into months, something peculiar began to happen. (Y/N) found herself slipping into a bizarre routine. Rusty had taken on the role of a malevolent housewife, and she, unwittingly, became a part of it. She cooked his meals, cleaned his house, and even found herself tidying up his collection of gruesome trophies from previous victims.

The lines between captor and captive blurred as she obeyed his twisted demands. Her fear began to morph into compliance, and her survival instincts were dulled by the monotonous cycle of their strange coexistence. In her twisted reality, she couldn't help but feel a strange sense of safety in following his commands.

The darkness of her predicament weighed heavily on her, obscuring the memories of her life before Rusty's twisted game. It was as if she had become trapped in a macabre dance, where the only partner was her tormentor. She didn't realize that she was no longer fighting him or trying to escape, but instead, she was slowly being molded into a reflection of his madness.

As the days turned into endless nights, (Y/N) began to lose not only her sense of self but also the hope that anyone would ever find her in this desolate place. Her only company was Rusty and the haunting echoes of those screams that had faded into the abyss.

[joannasteez]

sage

pairing: eddie kingston x black reader warning: lovey dovey smut. minors pls dni! authors note: this one is for my eddie girls lol word count: 1900 tagging: @harmshake @kill-the-artiste

brooklyn is quiet. the slow lazy drone of his car engine and soft to skirt steps as bleary nightlife party goers usher themselves along the street. brooklyn is quiet. annoyingly so. eddie itching to make it to your three story walk up. a right turn and then a left. a few miles of a drive and the slothful change of red street lights. his shoulders stiff and his eyes a little lower than usual. exhaustion rife. near a full consumption. but eddie is a stubborn prick about the things he wants. fights against himself as he makes his hands to parallel park. the short quick lock of his car before he's out and prepping tired bones for a trifling trek up too old steps. his head shaking. a wry smile and disbelief. fitting his car into too tight ass spaces—some people just couldn't fucking park to save a life—and begging his weary over wrestled body to endure the creaky and slightly tattered steps of an old brick house. 

some woman you are. and some fucking storm of adoration he's in. taking messy interstate highway traffic on the chin. slim bits of road rage and the calm delicate memory of your skin to appease the natural heat of his nature. 

the key you got made for him twisting in the door. a soft entry. your place still and smelling of warm vanilla. his tongue running hot and mindless at his lip, shuffling slow into your bedroom. body delicate and sleeping. light deep breaths and the wrap over of fine silk against your body. curled into the fluff of a pillow. 

his fingers itching. shoes forgotten as he steps up towards the bed. palms gentle, taking to the silk of the robe that covers your belly. a caressing shift of his hand, something delicate and lacking urgency. his mouth close to the heat of your skin as it runs over. pursing light to kiss along the sweet exposure of your neck. a tight jump of a reaction, your hands grabbing, pulled out of sleep. nails sinking in before they settle. "eddie", you sigh. still attempting to pull yourself from that harsh lingering drowsiness. your touch growing loving. soothing over where your nails had bitten into him. his thick fingers playing at curling into you, a knee dipping into the bed. his cap falling off along the sheets. lips going still, up the line of your neck till they linger at your jaw. gentle takes at your skin. his chest bursting hot with content as your sigh into the sweetness he gives. 

"missed you mama", he gives. a tender rasp that makes your skin shiver. his mouth spreading to a teasing little smile. intent lively in his hand as it roams. over soft silk till its reaching to hide at your inner thighs. warm and supple. your throat singing soft. feeling the generous weight of it.

your lips find his. pillowy and tender as they purse for a kiss. your thighs rubbing against the hold of his palm. a soft moan that undulates over him. legs parting slight. settling further into the plush of the bed. 

"missed you", airy before it delves into another little song of pleasure. a moan that heats his cheeks. your hands reaching to run along his beard. tongue slipping to wet your lips. a slight against his mouth that invites him to groan for you. "didn't realize i was sleep", you give. nailing at the fresh cut of his hair. 

"s'alright". a short pat to your leg before he leaves you splayed along the bed. riled up and wanting. eyes low and lingering along his little maneuvers around your room. free and comfortable with an easy undress of his clothes. short burly grunts as he feels his muscles tense and flame up sore. your lashes giving him a sweet batting flutter. rolling over on your belly. face in your hands. staring at him with an overly hot intentions. "m'feelin that green though", he says. chin jutting to point out the color of your silk robe. a mellow sage color that attempts to match the color of his eyes.

his shirt and pants forgotten. steps padding to your bathroom. the sweet tired carry of your voice tugging the base of his belly. a sound he wouldn't mind hearing more often. "s'more to feel underneath it". and he can hear the smile over your words. toying with his sore exhaustion till its a mere faint thing playing along his body. coaxing him to endure for the sake of something lighter than wrestling born injuries. his imagination threatening to run wild amidst the quiet of your bathroom. "is that right?" eddie gives. shower running fast and warm as it steps in.

a faint "yeah", blending with the rain over of the water. his movements quick and efficient. letting the heat of the water and the cleanse of your little minty soap subdue him enough till he's toweling off to meet you back on the bed. your robe forgotten. idle along the floor. his palms nearly filled to the brim with impatience as he draws back the covers. a silent maneuvering, skin slipping against skin, his back propped up along your nest of pillows as you settle atop his lap. 

the quiet of the night filling with the wet slip of your mouth against his. a shifting caress along your thighs and the steady growth of heavy breaths. thick fingers everywhere they can touch, prying and slotting till they skim under the pretty pastel sage of your panties. a cautioned touch seeking to breathe life back into the stillness of his memory. wrestling and traveling forcing a slight forgetfulness. but such simple touches is all he needs. the take of your hot needy tongue and the roll over of your hips. thin panties teasing up against the cotton of his boxers till he's groaning and firming up the gentleness of his touch. lips a little less easy and the lick of his tongue more amorous. 

eddie groans. takes a deep fall into his well of adoration. feels a squeezing in his chest and the skid of a shiver up his spine. your thumbs pressing into the grey-black of his beard. lips a deep twist along his till they break. your breaths heavy as he finds sensitive skin to nip at. a trail along the vanilla scent of your neck. 

"love holdin you", his words slipping over your skin. lips pushing into your pulse as he mumbles ardently. "love feelin you all up on me". 

your hips rock into him. fragile panties roughing up against the thick ache of his dick. a sucker for his little words of affirmation. but you've always been that way. subdued easy by his coarse tone and lax demeanor. eager for the full consumption of his touch and his late night mumbling passions. his fingers hot everywhere still. a quick unclasp of your bra before its tossed and forgotten. the bristle of his beard running up against your tender skin. mouth leaving a wet trail in the wake of lingering kisses. tongue led and nipping slight to beautify already beautiful skin. 

his intentions lead him faithfully. the thick pads of overworked fingers taking to a gentleness that melts you into him. firm and secure as he peels away your panties to slot against the slick quiver of your slit. lower lips working to open without much hesitancy as your hips chase the run of them. his mouth finding yours again. never being able to stray too far before they tingle needy and impatient. searching for the fullness that riles them to grow sloppy and singleminded. the wispy charm of moans too broken to be whole working to perform a sweet ache in his belly. throbbing hot and ready as your hips work with a greater fervor. chasing the prod of his fingers. 

"what else do you love?"  your palms cradling his head to keep him close. seeking the security of his adoration. lapping lazily at his tongue. making him dizzy. 

his lips pull away. a short break from their cling to you before his beard his running against your cheek. an aimless knock of his nose against yours as he slips further through the growing mess of your slit. middle and ring fingers gently teasing as they make to dip into you before a sneaky retreat. a cyclic process that dismembers your patience and reduces your little pleasured songs to whines. lips swollen as you search for his again. hips dragging still for friction. for the press of his hard achy dick. another little whine that lets him know just how desperate you are for him.

"love this pretty little face of yours", eddie gives. 

tender kisses to your jaw. your hands cradling him still. 

"love your pretty face too".

and he snorts. thinks you're too deep and lost in him to realize your strange stringing together of words. 

"my mug?", mouth against the seam of yours. "yeah fuckin right".

"m'being serious eddie". your eyes falling into him. the cradle about his head less loose and aimless. fixed in.

a stutter in his chest, the short irregularity just as sweet as your mouth. 

"i hear you baby", taken by the severity of your eyes. the support they give your words. "i hear you". 

a sigh of relief as your body performs good for him. always so good and pliant. dripping messily and clinging desperate as he slots his fingers into you. a surety coming with such deft ministrations. a groan singing heavily from his chest as he roughs you closer. a thick hand prying till they spread you further. an angle that makes the wet stroke of his fingers easier. his tongue lapping at your pulse as your hips grind to fuck against his fingers. his teeth giving into the skin to nip and tug. lazy melodic moans breaking off into the breathy quiet of the room. adoration taking to mix amongst the cool green of his eyes. something like butterfly's bullying his belly, but the feeling lacks that classic shyness so easily attached to it. a heated burden that neither makes him skittish or unsure. settling to live there as you rock over him. your clit messy and swollen as it rushes over the fabric of his briefs. and fuck, maybe the burden is just the overwork of his nerves. body exhausted and sensitive in its own right. 

he'd barely touched you yet and you him. and already he's on the precipice of coming undone like a fucking teenager.

an amused little smile painting into your chest as his head falls there. kissing the hard bud of a nipple. tongue lapping and your pussy clenching along with such a delicious sensation. surrendering to such a sweet burning as you moan still atop him. 

his fingers working diligent still. deepening as they stroke against that wet tender spot that forces your resolve to deadened. legs opening over him more. a steady rhythm in your hips. face tucking into his neck as you kiss and curse delicate at his skin. working yourself to a sweet finish. 

"forgot how soft and warm you are", he rasps. shifting along the pillows to lay against them. "love the way she opens up for me". 

beautiful as ever. fully consumed. pretty lips parted as your jaw goes lax. "right there baby", small and fragile. slipping into the air faint and pleading. 

and who is he not to oblige? who is he not to please you well? 

"yeah? got you feelin good huh?"

"yes". you groan. a light seize over him as you pulse and shudder. soaking his fingers as he strokes you to work through release. catching at his lips for a sleepy kiss. sloppy tongue and your hips rutting still. the night quiet save for the coupling of groans. 

[repulsiveliquidation]

pull over daddy

writer x reader drabble. um i closed my eyes for two seconds to take a nap but this scene couldn't get out of my head.

"god your fucking hands look so good on the wheel baby," you say, hands trailing up the inside of my leg. we're speeding down the highway, I'm eager to get us home after Christmas dinner at your family's house.

i hum appreciatively, my hand moving off the gear selector to your thigh, gripping it tightly. you stroke up my arm, nails dragging up my inner forearm lightly.

"wanna feel those hands wrap around my neck, daddy," you whine, lacing your fingers with mine before pulling it up to kiss the back. "please, i'm so fucking wet."

"i know, my love," i say deeply, "give daddy a minute, i'll sort you out."

i look over at you and wink, turning into a deserted area. i park the car haphazardly, turning the music up a little before gesturing for you to get in the back.

"wide open, i want to be quick."

your legs immediately spread, the dress you've got on a little too short. when you walk past me, it gives me just enough of a view of your ass. i can see your soaked panties, the smell of you was intoxicating as i climbed into the back with you.

i don't bother taking your panties off, fingers immediately pushing it to the side and slipping two fingers inside you. you moan and immediately ride my fingers, gripping my forearm tight. my thumb rubs your wet clit hard, two fingers quickly making you loose enough for a third.

you cry out my name when the third thick finger slides in, tears pooling in your eyes. you look up at me, the sight of you so wrecked for me makes me roll my eyes back into my head.

"coming for me, love?"

“fuck! gonna…!”

my fingers press up against your sweet spot hard, thumb fondling your clit faster and faster. you’re shaking, face tucked in my neck when I push you back into the seat. My hand wraps around your neck, squeezing ever so gently. It’s not tight, just a mere reminder of who you belong to.

“do you want to come for me, beautiful?”

“please daddy, close please!”

“come for me darling, that’s my good girl.”

you cum hard, legs quivering as the smell of sex permeates the car. I surge forwards and kiss you, your body slumping into the seat and my arms.

I pull my fingers out of you, shoving them into your mouth.

“clean up, baby doll.”

your lips wrap around my fingers so beautifully, a foreshadowing of how pretty your lips will look around my cock in a bit.

I pull my fingers away, sucking the rest off myself.

“Mm, get back in the front princess. I’ll get you home quick and fuck you real good.”

[fionajames]

prompts

A/N: Hello guys!!! I decided I'd send a list of various prompts for you guys to send me as requests. Absolutely anyone is free to use this! There are one word, dialogue, idea and song prompts!!!

One word prompts

hiraeth 

lost

catacombs

bloodhound

whisper 

broth

brine

froth

angel

wheat

camp

cry

shadow

bramble

herd

pack

wild

runaway

solstice

courage

tracks

woods

hike

firefly

quill

moon

sun

stars

spirit

song

splinter

clear

ice

sea

clouded

hum

jinx

limbo

wire

barbed

spear

sword

breath

holly

sink

drown

canine

willow

twine

whistle

Song prompts

not strong enough (boygenius)

meet me in the woods (lord huron)

cherry wine - live (hozier)

sweet tooth (cavetown)

1979 (smashing pumpkins)

bloodhound (the foxing)

rory (the foxing)

still feel (half alive)

best friend (rex orange country)

be nice to me (the front bottoms)

wires (the neighbourhood)

running with the wolves (AURORA)

the night we met (lord huron)

i’d rather be alone (boodahki)

cocaine jesus (rainbow kitten surprise)

romantic homicide (d4vd)

duvet (bôa)

breezeblocks (alt-J)

me and the devil (soap&skin)

heavydirtysoul (twenty one pilots)

father (the front bottoms)

waterfalls coming out of your mouth (glass animals)

genesis (grimes)

devil like me (rainbow kitten surprise)

rockstar (boywithuke)

bad habit (steve lacy)

my ordinary life (the living tombstone)

notorious (neoni)

nothings new (rio romeo)

lighthouse (the waifs)

step on me (the cardigans)

inside out (duster)

the man (taylor swift)

mind over matter (young giant)

rises the moon (liana flores)

sparks (coldplay)

mama’s boy (dominic fike)

way down we go (kaleo)

evergreen (richy mitch & the coal miners)

yorktown - the world turned upside down (original broadway cast of hamilton)

i love you so (the walters)

505 (arctic monkeys)

labour (paris paloma)

worldstar money - interlude (joji)

willow (taylor swift)

leave a light on (tom walker)

pretty boy (the neighbourhood)

lovers rock (tv girl)

the last great american dynasty (taylor swift)

you’re on your own kid (taylor swift)

ho hey (the lumineers)

stubborn love (the lumineers)

dear arkansas daughter (lady lamb)

watching him fade away (mac demarco)

o children (nick cave & the bad seeds)

Idea prompts

running through wheat fields

running through garden hose droplets

dancing in the rain

walking in the bush

splashing in the sea

horse riding

rolling down grass fields

trekking through forest

swimming in forest creeks

rock hopping

daisy chains and crowns

collecting wood for fire

bonfire at night

walking on abandoned highways and roads

lighthouse exploring 

cartwheeling and playing in fresh grass

morning dew and crisp morning air

dirt under your nails

tree climbing

abandoned towns

walking on train tracks

wooden boats

island exploring

baking in then morning quiet

watching movies very late at night

staying up late at sleepovers

corn mazes

wheat fields

frozen lakes

frozen forests

paper planes

jam jars

friendship bracelets

barbed wire fences

blood dripping on tiles

scratchy vinyl music

empty dark cold nights

canine teeth

fireflies in fields

camp cabins

sea shanties

sibling play fighting/rivalry (blood or not)

road trips with loud music

picnic dates in the forest

busy arcades

bookstore dates - the smell of old books

playing soft acoustic guitar in nature

playing fiddle and dancing around campfires

stargazing

laying in bed awake

Dialogue prompts 

“please kill me”

“i’m everything you can not control”

“i am the monster you created”

“am i that easy to forget?”

“i will never hesitate to put my life on the line for you”

“stars can not shine without darkness”

“i miss the old you”

“remember who you are”

“please don’t leave”

“listen here pal”

“how much is enough”

“i remember smiling the whole way home”

“i never told you i was falling in love”

“do you want to go wander around aimlessly?”

“you still feel like home”

“no matter what, you’re still my brother”

“i could never hate you”

“let me help”

“help me, please”

“we’re just kids”

“water is so exciting with straws”

“i can’t stop thinking about you”

“get in the blanket fort”

“when they smile, i forget how to breathe”

“platonic love is just as important”

“i’m homesick for a place i’m not sure is real”

“smile more, it looks beautiful on you”

“runaway with me” 

“dance with me?”

“come back to bed”

“your bleeding on my floor”

“stars sparkle in your eyes”

“sarcasm is a weapon”

“can we just go back?”

“i miss how it used to be”

“hold me”

“any closer to them and i’ll kill you”

“i’ll be by your side forever”

“are you ok?”

“it’s going to be okay”

“i’m going to cry, but happy tears”

“can i crash on your couch?”

“we’ve got more than two people crashing in our house”

“i belong with you”

“you’re my soulmate” 

“hold my hand, please?”

“they smile when you message them”

“i want to live”

“sing to me”

“we’re finally home”

A/N: @techs-goggles9902, @skellymom

[yanderetalk]

You’ve always had a lot of bad habits, but this one was by far the worst.

It led you astray, making you wander through hilltops, maneuver through dark alleyways, and worst of all, end up with that disgusting redness staining your hands, face and clothes.

You tried to wipe it off, blinking dazedly, hoping to sober yourself, but it only smeared across your lips and made your head pound even more. The world was starting to spin now. You stumbled, and would’ve fallen, if not for the crunch of tires over gravel catching your attention.

You froze.

You started sprinting, making your way through the makeshift junkyard, piles of trash and debris having accumulated into its own mini terrain. Two bright headlights came down the way. A car. A person.

Panic struck you like a bolt of lightning. You ran, ran as far and as long as your feet could take you. Your head was pounding, blood boiling, lungs searing—so many things, too many things, enough to make you feel like you were about to combust—

Then, you stopped, caught your breath, and pulled out your phone. Your hands shook as you went to your recently called. 

“Hey.” You exhaled a shuddering breath. “Come pick me up at the usual?”

A motorcycle rumbled down the highway. Gloved hands flexed on the handlebars, making the motor purr.

Killian spared a few glances down at his phone as you left him a voicemail.

“Hey.” An odd pause. “Come pick me up at the usual?”

He hummed quietly, contemplating. The usual. It was a bit strange that he has gotten so used to all of this in such a short time, wasn’t it? But, that was just you. You were strange, but he liked it. It was the good kind of weird.

Then again, if it was getting you into these strange places constantly, perhaps it wasn’t so good.

He trained his eyes on the road as he picked up the phone with one hand, holding it up to his lips.

“Will do. Be there soon.”

A bright light flooded the area, making you perk up, scanning your surroundings. It was just another headlight… but there was only one this time, instead of two.

Eagerly, you jumped up, hurrying over to the road. A familiar motorcycle slowed to a stop in front of you, the low hum of its engine slowly dying down.

You stepped away from the bike, frowning slightly at the sight of it, but you quickly schooled your expression into something more subtle. The first time you had met him, he’d nearly run you over. You had never quite let go of it

“Hey, darling. What’re you doing out here so late?” He took his helmet off, shaking his hair loose, running his fingers through his dark, matted locks. A bit of a grin touched his lips as he looked at you, dark eyes sparkling.

Slowly, you rolled your shoulders, the cracking of your joints almost sounding grotesque in the silence of the night. A quick glance down at yourself told you that you were dirty. Mud was splattered across your clothes, and caked under your nails.

You forced your hands to relax, the pole you had been gripping clattering to the ground.

You’d be carrying that all this time.

You resisted the urge to rub at your eyes, your hands stilling by your sides.

“Nothing.” You kept your tone clipped. “Just scavenging for scraps.”

“Yeah?” He brushed his hair back again and laughed softly. “You seem to be doing that a lot lately. You an engineer or something? That’s kinda cool.”

You tried not to roll your eyes. “Yeah.” The lie was fluid enough that he didn’t notice. “Are you?”

“Who, little ol’ me?” You can see the way he tried to hide his grin. “I guess I do a bit of mechanics for fun.”

“Interesting.” It was horribly boring, actually, but you didn’t give a shit. “Mind giving me a ride?” You nodded at his bike.

A few chuckles spilled from his lips. “Anything for you,” he teased. You could imagine blood coming from those pretty lips of his. “That’s why I’m here, ain’t it?”

Your eyes flitted to his as he grinned wolfishly, obviously expecting a response. It would’ve been cute if you didn’t have bigger things weighing on your mind.

“Yeah,” you got out after a second. “It is. Thanks for coming, by the way.” You gratefully accepted his helmet when he offered it out to you, sliding it on. Normally, you wouldn’t hinder your vision like this, but this was an exception.

He cleared his throat. “Well, what’re you waiting for? An invitation?” He laughed at his own joke, making you suppress a roll of your eyes. “I’m kidding, get on.” He patted the leather seat, like it was supposed to make it more tantalizing.

“I’m starting to regret this.” Reluctantly, you settled onto the motorcycle behind him, gripping his jacket tightly. “I should’ve just gotten a taxi,” you breathed.

“Haha, a taxi? That’s no fun.” He revved the motor almost excitedly. “Now what I like to hear,” he whistled, rubbing the side of the motorcycle affectionately. “Shit, you make her purr.”

You quirked a brow, and it took you a second to realize he was talking to his motorcycle. “Oh, so you’re one of those guys,” you mumbled.

“What?” He shot you a look. “Got a problem with me talking to my bike?”

“Many. Do you want me to list them?”

He laughed aloud at that, holding his hands up. “Nah, nah, I get it. My bad. Won’t ever do it again.”

You suppressed a small smile and looked down at yourself, but a frown touched your lips a second later.

You had more than just mud on your hands. That redness had come crawling back, seeping into your skin and poisoning you. Your let out a shaky exhale.

“Killian,” you said quietly. “Drive.”

Killian hesitated. “What? Hey, what happened? You o—“

“Drive!” You nearly screamed it out, but managed to reel yourself back in, panting harshly. You swallowed. “Drive.”

He didn’t question you this time.

I had difficulties with the dividers, as I’m assuming most can tell, so I just… reused the chain one and made the black divider above (it’s hideous I know, we don’t question it).

This is the first piece of writing I’ve done in months. It’s honestly disappointing; the quality is extremely poor. I cut it off at an awkward time, could’ve phrased things much better, and was likely overbearing with the ridiculous amount of figurative language, but this is what it is. I don’t want to edit it more because I’ll only worsen it.

I’ll eventually post some decent writing once my creativity comes back to me.

There should be a part 2 because I’m fairly certain that most people will be confused, but I don’t care for these characters, nor the story, enough to continue it. Maybe if it’s requested I can muster up enough energy to. I’ll be willing to explain things, though.