#but the money is running out fucking fast
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Diva
Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Summary: Wayne got Eddie tickets to see Iron Maiden in Indianapolis with his lovely lady, you. Thing is, Eddie turns into a bit of a diva when getting ready for an event like this. He wants everything to be perfect so he remembers it for the rest of his life. So when you’re ready to go, Eddie can’t find his favourite ring, and all hells breaks loose.
Disclaimers: Swearing, some light touching??
Side Notes: No upside down, no events of season 4. This is my second time writing a random middle of the night thought, not sure if anyone is even going to see this but if you do, thank you! My writing is very amateur so if anyone has any tips please send them my way. Enjoy!
The steam coming from the extremely hot shower was making it hard for you to do your hair in the small bathroom with the even smaller mirror. Constantly having to rub the small towel over the mirror to clear the steam off.
You’re running your fingers through the messy curls on your head mumbling small “mhm”’s while Eddie is behind the shower curtain talking your ear off about how excited he is for tonight.
Wayne had saved up and gotten Eddie two tickets to Iron Maiden’s Somewhere on Tour Tour with WASP also being in attendance, in Indianapolis. He insisted on Wayne coming with him but he denied quickly saying “I damn near have hearin’ loss just from you playin’ their music. I’ll ‘prolly go fully deaf if I hear the real thing. Take ‘yr girl who listens to that ruckus with you, it’s why I got ‘em for ‘ya.”
He called you immediately after Wayne said that. He was rambling so fast due to excitement he had to repeat himself twice for you to understand what he was saying. That was 2 months ago, and today is the day, the man has been bouncing off the walls since you both woke up in his bed this morning.
“I’m telling you. Come tomorrow morning I’m going to have no voice, probably won’t be able to move my neck, maybe a few scrapes and bruises, who the fuck knows!” Eddie says as he finishes up his shower.
“All I want out of this is a cool t-shirt.” You smile even thought he can’t see you. You love how excited Eddie gets for things he loves. Music, dnd, his books, you.
“Oh, I’m going to buy every piece of merchandise that booth has to offer. I’ve been saving since Wayne got these tickets.” It’s true. He has this special box on his desk that he puts money into when he’s saving up for something special.
You finished up your makeup quick and put everything back into your toiletries bag you keep under the sink at Eddie’s. You stay here a lot, you like to have your things with you always.
“Hurry up your shower babe, I’m almost ready and we should hit the road soon so we can check into the hotel and grab a bite to eat before the show.” You say as you put your bag under the sink. You guys were also able to save a little bit to get a hotel room just outside the arena, so you didn’t have to drive home in the middle of the night after rocking out a little too hard.
You stand and put on your skull necklace that was sitting in the jewelry dish you got for Eddie to put his rings in when he showers. The necklace resembles the skull ring Eddie has. When Eddie got the ring it came with a matching necklace as well. Eddie never wore necklaces but his guitar pick, so he just kept it in his room. But when you came along and were always so fascinated with his rings, especially the skull one, he gave you the necklace. Said you’d always have a part of him. He also said “It’s pretty fuckin’ metal on you babe,”
“Yes dear.” Eddie replies in a mocking tone. You snort and head out of the bathroom and into Eddie’s room to get dressed. You have an outfit laid out on his bed next to his laid out outfit, one of his very well loved Iron Maiden t-shirts, black jeans, and one of Eddie’s older leather jackets that doesn’t fit him anymore but fits you like a glove. Eddie’s outfit is an Iron Maiden long sleeve shirt with graphics on the front, sleeves, back, everywhere. Black jeans with rips in the knees and his battle vest with an extra WASP patch added to it.
Eddie comes sauntering in with a towel around his waist and his hair sopping wet.
“Eds. Dry your hair in the bathroom you’re getting water everywhere.” You try to dodge his clumsy movements as his wet curls sway around and cover the surfaces of his room in drops of water.
“My other towel was in here.” He takes it off his desk chair. “My hair looks better when I scrunch it dry with this towel.” He holds it up, then folds his body over to grip his curls with the towel and dry them into place.
“Does the towel have magic hair curling powers?” You giggle and Eddie looks up at you with a smirk, grabs you and starts to shake his head like a dog after a bath, covering you in spots of water.
“God damnit Eddie I just got dressed!” You laugh and try to push him away. He pulls away and laughs as well.
“And you look very nice my love.” He grins “But don’t be a smart ass.” He lightly taps your ass and you stick your tongue out at him.
“Get dressed. We need to go.” You tap your watchless wrist and step out of the room so he can get dressed without distractions. You saunter into the kitchen to grab some soda’s from the fridge you grabbed for the drive up to the city.
“You kids almost ready?” Wayne calls from the living room as he sits in his chair with a beer, watching some sports game.
“I think so, just waiting on your diva of a nephew to finish getting ready-“
“Fuck! Where is it?! Shit!” You both turn your head the direction of Eddie’s room as you both hear him frantically cursing and things flying around his room. “Babe?! Have you seen my ring?!” He calls in a panic.
“Which one Eds?” You call as you’re already walking to the bathroom, Wayne chuckling in the background, and looking in the jewelry dish. Which is empty.
“My skull one!” He calls back. You’re trying to remember if you saw it in there when you grabbed your necklace.
“I dunno, do you remember having it on before your shower?” You walk into his room, which you didn’t think could become more of a disaster.
“Yes? No? Fuck I don’t remember!” He says as he shoves his body under his bed, random items flying from where he’s lying.
“Okay chill out, we’ll find it. And if we don’t, no biggie” You try to reassure him as you also take a look around his room.
“No biggie?! That thing is my lucky charm! Always has been! And now it’s extra lucky because I have it matching with you!” He jolts himself out from under his bed and starts ripping the blankets and pillows off his bed like a madman, a stray pillow hitting you in the process.
“Okay, just- Eds just take a deep breath” You kick the pillow away as it fell at your feet. “When was the last time you saw it?” You stare at him as you watch the gears turn in his head as he thinks.
“Um, shit I don’t know. They’re just like a part of me now I don’t really think about ‘em.” His hand rubs up and down his jaw as he anxiously looks around still. “I did take them off last night when I was fixing the stereo in my van. I had to get my fingers in small places and the rings were getting in the way.” He sighs.
“Okay, I’ll go check your van and you keep checking your room okay? We’ll find it.” You stand on your toes and give his check a quick peck. He looks at you and gives you a little nod, but you can tell he’s not convinced.
You make your way out to Eddie’s van, grabbing his keys on the way out that were hung by the door. You whip open the drivers door and thank whatever god there is that while Eddie was fixing his stereo yesterday, you hung out in the van tidying it up for him, you wanted to spend time with him. But he had things to do, so you made it that you also had things to do.
You check in the centre console, glove box, cupholders, under all the seats, in the door slots, everywhere it feels like. A defeated sigh leaves your lips as you step out of the van and close the door.
“Well?!” Eddie’s voice comes from the trailer, as you look over he’s half hanging out his bedroom window. You just shake your head. “Fuck sake.” he grumbles and slides himself back in his room. When you step back into the trailer, Wayne has now also joined this fun easter egg hunt. He’s on all fours with a flashlight looking under the couch.
“How nicely did Eddie ask you to help?” You snicker as Wayne huffs out a chuckle.
“Not very, but I ain’t gon’ hol’ it against him.” Wayne gets back up on his knees, then uses the arm rest on the couch to stand fully up.
You and Wayne basically tear apart that living room to look while Eddie is still destroying his room. Curses and thumps coming from it as well. Finally you and Wayne just flop yourselves onto the couch.
“Did you try and tell ‘em it’ll be alright if you don’ find it?” Wayne leans forward to grab his fresh beer from the coffee table. You just slowly turn your head to him and raise your eyebrows a little as to say yeah and how do you think THAT went? He chuckles as he brings his beer to his lips.
Eddie comes flying out of his room, the curls he tried to keep at bay are now going every which direction and seem even poofier than usual.
“I’ve looked fucking everywhere and I can’t find it but- HEY!” You and Wayne both look at him at the sudden screech. “Are you guys- What’re you- Why aren’t you looking?!” He throws his hands up in the air.
“We looked everywhere we could. This trailer ain’t that big kid, not many hidin’ places.” Wayne says and Eddie just dramatically sighs and puts his hands on his hips. Very much resembling Steve when he’s giving the kids, or Eddie, a motherly scolding.
“Eddie, dearest, love of my life. We have to go. I know it’s your lucky charm and all, but the night is still going to be amazing, with or without the ring.” You stand to make your way over to him and Eddie puts his hands in the pockets of his vest, probably to grab a smoke and his head shoots up, same with his hand. Lo and behold in his hand, is that god damn ring.
��Yes! I found it! Oh thank god!” He dramatically kisses it and slides it back on his hand.
“You- You didn’t look in the pocket of your vest? Til just now? The vest you wear practically every single day?” You’re in disbelief he didn’t look there sooner. The only reason you didn’t is because you assumed he did.
“Ha uh, no. I guess I didn’t.” His voice drops a few octaves as he gets a little embarrassed at the mess he’s made looking for his ring, when it was in a very obvious spot. You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out a small huff and close your eyes.
“Is he still your dearest, love of your life.” Wayne mocks and chuckles behind you guys and Eddie grins at that. You also can’t help but break and laugh as well and look back up at Eddie. Your dearest, love of your life, Eddie.
“Yeah. He is.” You widen your smile and he sends you a wink. “Okay hot shot, we gotta go. Do you one hundred percent have everything?” You say as you head over to the door to start doing up your black converse.
“Yes, wallet.” He slaps his back pocket. “Rings.” Holds both his hands up to show you. “Keys.” He reaches up over you and grabs his keys from the holder on the wall. “My sweetheart.” he pinches your chin and plants a kiss on your lips. You smile into it and kiss him back.
“Okay lovebirds get outta here or ‘yer gon’ miss ‘yer show.” Wayne grumbles from the couch as he takes another sip of his beer. You pull away from Eddie and give him a small shove.
“He’s right let’s go.” You turn. “Bye Wayne! Thanks again for the tickets!” He just gives you a small wave not looking away from the tv, but he’s got a small smile on his lips.
“Bye Wayne! Thanks again old man!” Eddie calls as he closes the door to the trailer behind you guys. As you round the van Eddie races in front of you and opens the passenger door for you. Kneels, and out stretches his arm to it he van. “M’lday.” He bows his head.
“Oh, you’re going to be an extra kiss ass now aren’t you?” You giggle and get in the van. Eddie rises back up and grins at you.
“Darlin’, you have no idea.” He closes the door and hops in the drivers side.
Let’s just say, after your drive to Indianapolis, Iron Maiden weren’t the only ones who rocked your world that night.
#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x fem!reader fluff#eddie#is a diva#eddie munson blurb
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sorry if you’ve already done this 😭😭😭 but could you do Avery and Gigi headcanons!! Like when they meet and become friends ((((:
avery and gigi head canons
OMG YES! i honestly didn't think of making head canons for those two, but now that you mention it, i'm extremely intrigued. might not be as good as my other posts considering we don't know a whole bunch about gigi but i'll do my best. i've also been working on requests/posts for literal hours so my brain might be out of head canon making power. hope you like them though <3.
gigi is always asking questions about avery's childhood bc avery has the weirdest stories ever bc of the way she grew up.
avery taught her self-defense after some guy tried to come after her. gigi is now better than avery and will most definitely end you if you try to hurt her (she may or may not have also learned self-defense in order to kill duncan)
gigi loves talking to avery bc she doesn't really talk often which allows gigi to spill her guts out. she always has so many different stories to share and stuff, but most people don't spare the time to listen to her.
gigi forces avery to do tiktoks with her (dances, grwms, etc) bc avery looks so awkward and uncomfortable, and it makes her laugh.
she will steal avery's coffee bc no one allows her to have any. avery knows she steals it but doesn't say shit.
gigi forced avery to talk about sheffield and what he did to her. gigi now despises (but still sort of loves him cause he's her father) her father. she didn't think he had it in him to do smth like that to a literal child.
she encourages avery to talk about her emotions and let everything out. gigi is like the mental health advocate (for everyone but herself)
gigi loves ice skating and wanted to bring avery to the ice rink with her. avery didn't know how to ice skate though so gigi taught her how to (their lessons involved a lot of falling, near death experiences, concussions, etc)
avery is like an overprotective mom. if gigi is getting bullied or smth, she heads to that person's house/school or whtv and beats the crap out of them (verbally). they always run away in fear and never bother gigi again.
gigi buys avery clothes all the time. she thinks avery is really pretty and likes dressing her up.
avery gives gigi her credit card and tells her to spend money on whatever she wants (gigi calls avery her sugar mommy)
for some reason, avery is a really good twerker (is that even a word) and gigi forced her to teach her how to shake ass.
gigi feels comfortable enough to open up to avery and ask for advice/vent. she finds avery to be really non judgmental and straight forward which she appreciates.
avery and gigi will constantly gang up on grayson and pull pranks n him (they once replaced all of his expensive skincare with cheap shitty drugstore skincare and he actually screamed)
avery helps gigi with her homework when she's struggling. gigi is convinced avery is a saint bc she always explains the stuff to her better than her actual teachers.
gigi is bi (at least in my head), and avery was the first person she came out to.
they both talk about how much of a fucking coward grayson is when it comes to his feelings for lyra(?). they'll be watching grayson and lyra and they'll be saying things like 'omg how fucking dense can a man be, like, just fucking confess', and gigi will be like 'i fucking hate men'
avery bought her a cat (idk if its been mentioned in tbh if gigi actually has cats or if she just likes them, but if she does own cats, just pretend avery bought her another one)
they go out together and buy her cat(s?) cute little outfits (tutus, gucci coats, bows etc).
gigi has (not anymore though) a tinder account, and avery found out about it. she absolutely freaked and deleted the account telling gigi that it was dangerous and that she'd find a man for her if she was that desperate.
avery never got to experience things that most kids got to experience (she grew up too fast/didn't have the opportunity), and gigi finds it sad, so, she brings her out to like trampoline parks and stuff. it makes gigi happy seeing how happy avery is.
avery is always apologizing to gigi about her father. she blames herself and thinks she should've found another way to escape (when she was kidnapped). gigi reassures her by telling her that there was no other way and that, after everything her father did, he sort of deserved to die.
they shit talk men. they fucking hate them.
in my gigi and grayson post, i mentioned gigi loves knitting. avery knows this and buys her yarn all the time. when she's out with max (or alone or with gigi), she goes to stores that sell yarn and looks for smth cool for gigi.
gigi and her family don't have much money after what happened in tbh. avery gave them all a huge amount of money. acacia feels bad, but avery insisted. when gigi found out, she was so fucking happy she literally knelt on the floor telling avery she was a literal god. she then cried in her arms.
gigi gets her to dress up in the most scandolous shit ever. she somehow found out avery's bra size/underwear size and buys her lingerie whenever she goes out. avery secretly loves it but pretends to be scandalized.
#the inheritance games#jameson hawthorne#grayson hawthorne#avery grambs#xander hawthorne#nash hawthorne#gigi grayson
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i fucking hate applying for jobs online this shit makes me want to kill myself. my fucking resume with 5 shitty dead-end customer service jobs with year long gaps in between each one. cover letters. professional references. i'm going to throw myself into a ditch
#aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA#nearly every time i apply for a job online i never fucking hear back#blow my brains out!#im going to do this but im going to fucking hate it the whole time!#time to rewrite my resume i guess. fuck#i do not want to get a filler job#but the money is running out fucking fast#money my fucking detested#soliloquy
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peep peep 🐁..
#chattin#waitin to be picked up from my aunts house#dogsitting while she was on a trip w my mom and sister#so im going to sit here and chat about some stuff#SFW this time im going to behave !#thinking of ph#i like writing him as a fucked up lil guy….#got obsessed; mistook possessive behavior for love oopsie !#i think he would be REALLY hurt postgame#he was doing a GOOD job! he was trying to help peppino get rid of his shoddy shop!!!#bc owning a business is sooooo taxing and why do that when u can just work for someone and get paid good money !#and no one has ever like. so blatantly and ANGRILY said NO to him before :( he is experiencing failure AND rejection for the first time#sucks ass#but i want him to be happy so like. eventually he has to deal w that failure#and he sees peppino like. still running a shop. but hes not angry like when they first met hes like#vibin!#hes in the back making food and occassionally he takes front and deals w customers and theyre weird but bearable#people TRAVEL to this little shop at the edge of the forest!#and he doesnt get it its like the food comes out slow and the tvs arent loud enough to hear anything and the prices are higher-#-than ANY fast food joint and yet people still come by…he has REGULARS…how…#hes so inefficient…and yet….#peppino is really angry and dismissive of ph at first; he does NOT want to see his ugly mug and hes tempted to chase him out#but gus is levelheaded (like always peppino notes) and hes like its not worth it ; hes harmless#and over time that anger simmers out into being JUST dismissive and grumpy#but he tolerates him and eventually tolerates his questions#and peppino is like. u know thats why i was so damn pissed at u. thinking there was nothing this owning shit#this shit takes time so i price it that way. u gotta talk to customers like People not Money Giving Machines#like yeah peppino doesnt have the BEST temperment but he most people are just there for Pizza#and some of them are friendly! its tiring but he likes making food and dealing w people#he will not say it but he puts love into this business; this shop is his baby! and ph didnt really get that
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i think bestie is mad at me :/ i’m stupid i should’ve just left it alone but i stressed her out
#i was just trying to save money. cause i’m running out really fast#idk i feel annoying i feel like the worst person in the world. like you’re gonna complicate this all over $40??? really???#but i need $40 :/ like $40 is almost a tank of gas. idfk i’m stressing myself out now#fuck i hate myself :/ she should have a best friend that isn’t like this#pink’s word vomiting
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Nothing brings me closer to the edge of "huh maybe I do have a touch of the autism" than shopping
#anne speaks#as in i fucking DESPISE it unless it's specifically catered to me#i need to be warned about it in advance. i need to know what time we're going. ideally i need to know what time we're done#i have to mentally prepare myself and dedicate a specific amount of energy for the act in advance#and so help me gods if i bring my mum i will full on rage quit within two hours#she's one for 'oh this piece of clothing might be good for you' then holds up the least me thing in the world#or goes all 'uhh i dont know...' concerned if it either shows too much cleavage or is not neat and feminine enough#and then on top of that is like#okay but that costs money so how about we go to an extra store that you werent prepared for to see if they have the same thing but cheaper#you CANNOT add to my mental list of what im expecting im running FAST out of my prepped energy and i WILL start snapping at u#she asked what i would like for my bday and i was like 'well okay i do wanna refresh my wardrobe a little'#she asked what im thinking of style wise but like a) how do i say mum you cant buy me clothes without me feeling like a silicon valley wife#and b) how do i say 'i want butch i want gender i want playful i miss my theatre days i want artist i want boho'#anyway. i have now been convinced to go shopping with my sister who is a lot more tolerable bc she's young and hip and less scared to play#but im still like 'okay what time? okay give me a second to think if i want to go? i need to mentally adjust'#and my mum kept saying 'oh you can go then and after youll come back together' THATS NOT A TIME MOTHER#i need to know! when im going!! so i know how much time i have to mentally prepare#anyway. this is my essay on why shopping makes me autistic#there is Very Little that does this to me. usually i embrace chaos#but oh man. yeah no thanks#anyway fingers crossed everyone that i come back from town looking artsy and gender
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...
#um so i just got some mildly life altering news#and bc i dont talk to ppl irl i come to yall to gossip bc i dont think id be allowed to talk to ppl here abt this anyway#so my boss got a job offer from another school and shes gonna take it starting in January#shes gonna take it bc the school we're at now fucking blows and does not treat her or anyone especially well#our fucking building is so fucked and its not Even that old#the autoclave is constantly broken and like thats vitally important for like 3 labs and the heating is fucked#if the lights go out stuff gets fucked up. the air is constantly not working#its all fucked and i dont blame her for leaving. i would too#but my plan was to be in a phd by next fall. so where does that leave me?#my options are to go with her to this school in a city that i profoundly dont wanna live in and roll thst into a phd with one of the#astrobiology ppl there. when they're stuff really isnt of interest to me#or i could stay here for the spring and talk to her over zoom and finish up our projects and then the money runs out at the start of summer#so ill probably do the latter bc i wanna get outta the fucking desert and i literally just renued a lease until april#but yeah. that kinda wild. now ive really gotta get serious abt finding a program bc the end has a hard deadline now#and i dont wanna end up living at home with my parents like my loser sister. no judgment on moving back in with parents#she was just real mean to us growing up so i passively resent her for it#anyway what a weird weekend. yesterday i was all... its not mania idk what to call it. i was being crazy and my brain was going too fast#and ive not been sleeping well so i woke up feeling real real bad#like the kinda tired where everything is kinda spinning and unreal#then i had to go talk to this guy in the lab abt coding stuff in the lab for like 2hrs and it was way over my head#and then i got this news. so now im laying on the floor#hhhh well maybe this is a good thing. maybe its the push i need to stop being so fucking depressed and actually focus#i only have to keep doing this shit until next summer. i can keep it together until then#unless these last projects destroy me like they have every other time ive done the same thing sigh...#ugh shut up! focus. find a school. find a program. get the fuck outta the desert#unrelated#also apparently im the 1st to know abt this info bc it literally just happened so yeah i dont think im allowed to talk abt it
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Went to the dispensary and had 25 dollars off a purchase for my birthday !! Slay!!!
#I got two 35 dollar vape carts for 15 dollars bc they were on sale and then I got a discount#I love deals on weed 🥰 and then I also got#a fourty dollar cart for my mom that I got for ten dollars bc of a sale#my birthday and 420 being this close together means I get the best fucking deals#I got over a hundred dollars worth of vapes for 25 dollars like HELLO ?!?!?!#weed stores love me#and then I get to the smoke shop (that normally cards. was totally expecting to be turned down) but they didn’t card me and I got a battery#for the cart I got for my mom which was fuckin dope cause now I’m pretty sure I could go in there whenever and buy shit and they sell cigs#so that has the potential to be sick as fuck#but I gotta get a fuckin job#birthday moneys running out fast#back to applying to bullshit jobs and waiting patiently to be ignored
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#It's all moving too fast#I'm in stasis#I'm stir crazy#I can't go anywhere or do anything but even if I could I don't have the money to#I'm old enough to apart doing important things but don't have the resources to be doing these things#I'm in a horrible blank space where I'm just waiting for the times I know are coming to come#And it feels even worse because on a deep level I get that this isn't permanent#I know it'll end and this is nothing in the long run#I'm so painfully self aware#And it feels like im watching myself fall and know I'm gonna be fine at the end but it doesn't prevent me from crying out when#My back hits the ground#Fucking#Hell
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unfortunately I am so unfit to work. i really want to get financial aid from the government so I can move in with my bf
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"sure thing"
pairing: target!gojo x assassin!fem!reader
summary: you've been hired to kill the satoru gojo. how will you pull it off... and what will you do when he figures it out?
content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, darkish content (all is well in the end), no established relationship, assassins/organized crime, blackmail, mention of a “suicide mission”, attempted murder (uhhhh), hidden identity, intended use of sex as a means to an end, mating press, unprotected sex, p->v, creampie, oral (fem!receiving), praise, pet names (gorgeous/sweetheart/baby), slight aftercare.
a/n: me 🤝 describing gojo as having dimples
welcome to my second 1k followers event fic! At this rate tho i’m going to hit 2k before i finish the 1k event LMAO. not that i'm complaining hehe. thank you for being patient and for all the support on my recent works! i really appreciate every ask, comment, follow, reblog, everything. they mean the world to me. check out the rest of my 1k event here. enjoy and remember that ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!
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“Who?!”
No fucking way. There’s no way he just said what you think he said.
“You heard me,” he scowls. He glares at you from across the desk. His seat is one of those cushy little office chairs, of course. Yours is plastic– cold and hard.
“Are you fucking insane?” you hiss. There’s no other explanation for what he’s asking you to do. He’s lost his fucking mind.
“We have a client willing to pay big money for this. Big money for just an attempt,” he answers.
You laugh, but there’s absolutely nothing funny about this conversation. “Oh, I’m sure you do. Probably because he’s practically invincible. I’ll never even lay a hand on him.”
Your “boss”, for lack of a better term, only scowls harder, the wrinkles forming near his eyes etching deeper in his skin. “Well, you’d best find a way to make it work. You’re taking this job. That’s final.”
You scoff. Maybe you should recommend he see someone… “No. There’s no way. I’m not doing this.” You stand, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Get someone else to go on your suicide mission.” You take a couple strides toward the door before two very large men move to block your path.
“Not so fast,” your boss calls. You pause, eyeing up your competition. You could definitely take them if you needed to. You sense only a very faint amount of cursed energy coming from each of them– not even enough to make you blink– but something in your boss’s tone makes you turn back.
“Yes?” You cross your arms over your chest, fingering a blade hidden in your breast pocket.
He fiddles around in his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up right there in his office. You don’t try to hide the way your nose scrunches up. “You want to do this job.”
Your eyes narrow. Something tells you you’re not going to like what comes next. “And why’s that?”
He takes a long puff, letting the smoke flowing out of his lungs with a slow exhale. “Because otherwise that little brother of yours is gonna be…” he pauses to give you a smile that makes your stomach churn. “Hmm… a lot smaller, shall we say? Maybe in several limb sized pieces?”
You think your heart stops. Time halts as ice runs through your veins. Nobody knows about your brother. At least, they didn’t.
Your boss’s smile grows even wider. In all your time as an assassin, you’ve never wanted to kill someone more. But you know you can’t. Just an attempt on his life will end your brother’s.
“Don’t worry. He’s all tucked away and safe at home where you left him.” Just a tiny piece of your heart thaws with relief. “But try to run with him, or run yourself, and he won’t be safe much longer.” Your pulse pounds so viciously you’re sure everyone can hear. A bead of sweat rolls down your neck. “Now, will you accept the assignment?”
Your jaw clenches. He got you. In all these years of working for him you’ve been careful, meticulous about hiding every piece of your personal life to avoid situations just like this. But he still got you. He got you.
“Yes,” you breathe. You have no choice. You will either kill Satoru Gojo or you will die trying.
“Good,” is all he says, and then you’re being escorted out of the office wondering where the hell you went wrong.
~
It’s been three weeks since that fateful meeting with your boss. True to his word, your brother has remained unharmed, but you see his lackeys lurking around every corner. Neither you nor your brother are truly safe and you never will be again unless you can pull this off and then put together some plan to escape your boss’s clutches.
You’ll fail. You know you will. The thought eats you up inside with every waking moment.
You’ve done your best to learn every possible piece of information about Satoru Gojo in the past two weeks. You know you can’t tail him closely– he’d pick up on your cursed energy and notice your incessant presence, so you’ve had to study from a distance with only minimal moments of proximity. You know where he works, who he works with, what restaurants, bars, and clubs he frequents and what days of the week he tends to visit. You know what his order is at his favorite ramen restaurant, where he lives, what time he wakes up. Hell, you know what fucking brand of dish soap he uses. He lives a surprisingly… predictable lifestyle. He makes no attempt to switch up his schedule or cover his tracks. In any other situation he’d be every assassin’s dream, but this is Satoru Gojo and Satoru Gojo doesn’t need to worry about assassins– assassins need to worry about him.
It took you the first week to come up with a plan. You had no clue how you were going to get close to him, much less kill him, and his infinity technique was going to prove particularly problematic. How were you supposed to kill him when you couldn’t even touch him? You had to get him in a situation in which he would willingly let his guard down for you.
You’d been on the subway when it hit you. Sex. You’d get him to have sex with you. If you could get him to take you home, he’d have to turn infinity off for at least a short time. That would be your time to strike.
You’d spent the next two weeks primping yourself. You’d bought the most expensive dress you’d ever owned, got a mani-pedi, whitened your teeth, and spent a small fortune on makeup. Considering your circumstances, you thought your plan was quite a good one. You knew when he’d go out to the bar with his friends, which bar he’d go to, how long he’d stay, how he’d get a taxi home. You also knew when you’d arrive, how long you’d stay, and how you’d get a taxi with him– everything planned perfectly to best catch his attention. But for all your planning, there was still one thing you didn’t know. What kind of woman did Satoru Gojo go for? Someone submissive? Teasing? Aggressive? Playful? In all your time tracking him you’d never seen him take somebody home. It struck you as… odd. He was Satoru Gojo, renowned for his power, wealth, and good looks– surely he had women falling at his feet. Maybe he was just a little more… selective. If that was the case you’d have to be even quicker on your feet when you finally met him. And that time is now.
You’re in your bathroom, checking your makeup one last time before heading out the door. Your brother sleeps soundly in the room down the hall, safe for the time being. You’ve contacted a friend, one who is at least willing to try to get him out if– when– you fail. You doubt it will be enough.
You make your way to his room. A quick peek inside reveals he’s snuggled up with a plushie elephant that he carries around like they’re attached at the hip. You creep inside, a sad smile on your lips. This may very well be the last time you see him. You brush a stray lock of hair from his eyes and press a kiss to the crown of his head. With one last whispered ‘I love you’, you’re out the door. If you linger, you won’t be able to go– and you have to. For him.
The streets of Tokyo are cold tonight, like the weather knows what you’re about to attempt, like it’s preparing for death, for failure. For your failure.
The club you arrive at is upscale, and one where you’ve already tipped off the bouncer to let you bypass the line. You hear a few groans from the people behind you as you saunter straight inside.
You’re conscious of every little move from the second you step inside. At any moment, he could see you and it could make or break your entire plan.
You press your shoulders back. You have a plan– stick to it.
You make your way over to the bar, weaving your way between groups of people who are somewhere between giggling a little too loudly and tripping over their own feet.
You find a free space at the bar and lean up onto your elbows, your eyes screening the bartenders. You smile when you see a familiar face.
“Hey, Dean,” you call.
He turns and the sight of his friendly green eyes sets you a little more at ease.
“Oh, shit. Hey!” He slings a towel over his shoulder and comes to stand across from you. “You’re back,” he says. You nod and smile softly. Ever since you’d determined this would be the place you’d been coming periodically, chatting up the bartenders. The last thing you needed was to stand around in a corner alone with seemingly no friends. That wouldn’t attract anyone, much less Satoru Gojo.
Out of all the bartenders, Dean was your favorite– and you’d been oh so happy to learn that his schedule put him on every Friday night.
“Yeah. Long day at work.”
A smile pulls at his lips, but there’s a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “The usual, then?”
You nod solemnly. “That’d be great. Thanks.”
You watch him prepare the drink for you, feeling a little bad that it’s all a lie. There’s no bad day at work, you didn’t just happen to come in here one day and strike up a conversation with him. All of this is premeditated, planned, and it feels… lonely. It feels lonely to know that on what is probably your last night on earth you are surrounded by people who only think they know you.
“So, anything new happening?” Dean drops your drink in front of you and you have a feeling it’s filled with a little more vodka than he’s supposed to put in there.
Your eyes shift around the bar as subtly as you can manage. As much as you want to seem like you fit in, you also need to find Gojo. It’s a fine balance.
You shrug. “Yeah, I guess I just feel like a lot of things are going to be changing for me pretty soon.”
His brows pull together and the look he gives you is one of genuine interest and concern. It makes your heart wrench. “How so?”
You swallow. “Dunno. Just… everything.”
There’s a moment of silence and then the tapping of a finger on your glass. “Damn, girl. Drink up. You need it.”
You can’t help but smile. You have a feeling that Dean would have been a good friend of yours in another life.
You take his advice, though, and bring your drink to your lips and force a smile. You can’t be moping– not tonight.
The next twenty minutes are spent with Dean. Even when he’s making other drinks he’s still chatting with you, still being a good… friend. You dread leaving your little haven at the bar. The time is coming when you’ll have to seek out your target.
You’re shocked when it’s the other way around.
“Hey, gorgeous.” There’s a light brush on your shoulder and you turn. It takes all you have to keep your features schooled and calm. Satoru fucking Gojo just tapped your shoulder.
Nothing prepared you for how handsome he is up close. All those days of research, of tracking and tailing– none of it does the real thing justice. Even with those stupid sunglasses inside… he’s fucking beautiful. “I’ll pay for all of your drinks tonight if you let me skip this hideous line,” he whines.
You give yourself no more than a second to recover. You school your features into a smirk. You glance at Dean with an ‘is this okay?’ look. He just smiles and shrugs.
You turn back to Gojo, bracing yourself this time for the beauty you’re about to face. You meet his gaze and know you could get lost in it. “Be my guest.”
His smile nearly blinds you and his dimples nearly make you pass out. Still, you keep your cool.
“Yesssss!” He looks like a puppy just offered a bone.
He spills his drink order to Dean and it’s far more than could possibly be just for him. He’s here with his friends, then. Probably the blonde man who always looks too tired to be here and the girl with the brown hair who always seems like she’s just along for the ride.
You bite your lip to hide a laugh when he orders himself two strawberry daiquiris. Somehow you still catch his attention.
“What?” he pouts. You can’t help but feel a small stirring of surprise in your gut. He’s far more… relaxed than you’d expected him to be. He’s almost… childish?
You press your lips together and shake your head. You’ve reached the point where your research can’t take you any further. From this point on, it’s up to you to discover what Satoru Gojo likes in a woman.
You debate how to answer. Play coy? Tease him? Stay silent? Any option could be as correct as the next. You didn’t know where to start… so maybe you’d just start by being yourself.
“Just, um… not the order I was expecting,” you laugh. It’s halfway genuine. With the way he’s acting, it’s hard to remember that he’s the most powerful man alive.
His pout only intensifies. “Well, what’s your order?”
His question is answered when Dean sets another cosmopolitan in front of you. You laugh. “Never said I was judging, just that it wasn’t what I expected.”
Another smile tugs at his lips and something stirs in your gut that you try your very hardest to ignore. This was a job. There was no room for actually enjoying it. This man was probably going to kill you later, in a matter of hours.
There’s a beat of silence, and then a slight shift in his demeanor. He leans closer and you see a twitch of his lips. Your heart jumps.
“You’re a sorcerer,” he says.
You hold back an exhale of relief. You thought he might be onto you. If he is, he’s choosing not to reveal it yet.
You nod and take what you hope is a casual sip of your drink. “And you’re Satoru Gojo.”
A brow arches high enough for you to see it over his sunglasses. “You know who I am?”
You force a chuckle, smirking despite the pounding of your heart. “Who doesn’t?”
You’d decided long ago to tell him that you knew exactly who he was. It would seem more suspicious for a fellow sorcerer to have no idea what the Satoru Gojo looked like.
He flashes you a smile full of white and stupidly fucking perfect teeth. “That’s true, heh.” You press your lips together to avoid a smile. Not too humble, then…
“So, what’s your technique”
You shoot him a glance that questions his sanity. Asking a sorcerer what their technique is… is personal. It’s not information you give out to a rando at the bar– even if it is Satoru Gojo.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You take another sip of your drink, trying your hardest to remain somewhere on the border or interested and casual.
“Bet I could find out.”
That makes you turn fully, angling your body toward his. “Oh yeah? You challenging me to a fight?” You smirk and shake your head. “I’ll pass.”
He pouts again, but you see a hint of a smile peeking through. “Aw, come on. That’s no fun…”
You chuckle and take another sip of your drink. You’re not sure you’re sipping just for appearances anymore. You think you probably just need a little liquid courage to see this thing through. “Sorry. I value my life.”
You watch as he slides his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, just enough for you to get a glimpse of what’s behind. You nearly choke again and this time you don’t manage to hide your nervous swallow when he smirks.
“You’re so sure you’d lose?” His voice is teasing now and you hate that it’s actually having an effect on you. Job, job, job, just a job…
You clear your throat. “I like to think I’m not stupid enough to think that I could win.”
His eyes are blue– so fucking blue– and you feel like he’s seeing straight into your soul. Can he see? Can he see your filthy intentions? Your plotting? The rottenness of what you’re going to do? “What if I promise to take it real easy on you?”
Your drink is forgotten now. You’re lost in what he’s saying– in him. “No thanks.” Your voice is growing lower and you feel like there’s some magnet forcing you to lean into him, to seek his warmth.
“So you like it rough, then.” The trance is broken and your blood runs hot. Holy shit. This man is flirting with you and you hardly even had to try. He's trying to take you home. Little does he know, you’re a sure thing.
You watch as he throws back the rest of his strawberry daiquiri with a pleased “ahhh” at the end. When he turns back to you his eyes have a certain spark in them that makes your thighs press together. “You wanna dance with me?”
Fuck. This is going too well to be real. But you’re not about to pass up a good deal.
“What about your friends?” you ask and eye the several untouched drinks still left on the bar. It’s risky– giving him an out, but you can’t seem too eager.
He follows your gaze only to bounce his eyes straight back to you. “I’m sure they’ll get a look at ya and understand.”
The smirk he’s giving you is making electricity shoot straight between your legs. Damn. You really wish you didn’t have to kill him– or at least try to.
When he extends his hand you only hesitate for a second. Your heart leaps when you feel his skin on yours, knowing he’s let infinity down. He pulls you onto the dancefloor and it’s not long before he’s running his hands all over you– groping your ass, pinching your thighs, nipping at your neck. Pretty soon the dancefloor evolves to a dark corner of the club with his lips on yours and goddamn he’s a good kisser. You’ve got your fingers in his hair and his hand way too close to your boobs when he whispers those fateful words– “let’s get out of here.”
You can only hide your swallow and nod before he’s pulling you through the crowd, leaving the club behind. He hauls you both into the backseat of a taxi and the door’s barely closed before he’s all over you again. You think you hear the taxi driver mutter something about ‘staining the seats’ but you’re too far gone to give a shit.
Fuck, he feels good. He’s kisses you like he’s starved and your lips are the fountain of fucking life, like he’s never felt something so good and now he can’t get enough. And, god, he’s handsy. You’re forever grateful to your past self for discreetly hiding your blade in your bra– he would have felt a holster on your thigh at least ten times over by now.
He groans when you arrive at what you know is his apartment building, though you don’t let on that you recognize the place in the slightest. The look on his face makes you think he’s feeling actual physical pain at the prospect of having to peel away from you for even a second. Nonetheless, he tosses a wad of cash at the taxi driver and pulls you straight inside.
He can’t even wait for the elevator to come, groping your waist right there in the lobby and then when the elevator finally does come, shoving you up against the metal wall a licking stripe across your collarbone.
You can’t deny how nice it feels to be so desperately… wanted. Never once has a man made you feel this way– so consumed by him, him, him. Once again you curse the universe that you’re here with a mission other than getting laid.
You find yourself giggling when he pulls you out of the elevator and presses his palm to a fucking scanner to get into his apartment. You try to pull yourself together, but when he laughs with you, you can’t help but melt into him a little more.
As soon as the door clicks shut behind you, he’s got you up against another wall with your legs wrapped around his waist and his face buried in your neck. His sunglasses are long gone and you pull at his shirt, popping the buttons straight off the fabric until you slide the shirt down his shoulders and onto the floor.
“That was Versace,” he whines.
You plaster your lips to his. “I don’t care.” All he does is chuckle.
“So gorgeous…” he breathes and your head slumps back against the wall, giving him better access to the soft skin of your neck. Any minute now. Any minute he’s going to start stripping your clothes off and you’re going to have to let this charade crumble. You don’t want to. He’s practically worshiping you. It’s perfect, it’s amazing, and you don’t want it to end.
His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass and suddenly you’re moving again– moving, moving, moving until your back is bouncing against the softness of a mattress and you’re fucking giggling again like a lovesick idiot. Maybe you’d had a few too many sips of those cosmopolitans.
He’s smiling as he crawls over you and the sight makes your heart flutter with both lust and terror. Lust because he’s so fucking beautiful and terror because you know that any moment now you’re going to attempt to end that beauty forever.
A lump forms in your throat and you try unsuccessfully to swallow it. You have to do this, have to try. There’s no other way, no other option. Not for you.
Your thoughts must not have been as perfectly concealed as you’d thought because he quirks a brow. “Something goin’ on up here?” His lips slide across your temple in a touch that feels far too tender for a hookup. “Don’t worry, baby. It’ll fit.” He snickers at his own joke before burying himself in your neck. His hand slides down your side, pressing you up into him until you can feel every curve and cut of his muscles.
You bite your lip. You’ve already slipped enough for him to notice your nerves– you can’t let it happen again. You have to do it soon. Now. As soon as you see an opportunity you have to strike. You have to.
You arch up into him, scratching your fingers down his back, trying to seem as invested in the moment as you can. He gets greedier, leaving open-mouthed kiss down your neck, across your collarbone. You nearly freeze up when he kisses low into the valley of your breasts– as low as your dress allows. Then he moves over your clothes, kissing down your stomach as his hands rub your thighs.
Now. Now, while he’s not looking.
You slide a hand into his hair and another up to your chest, trying to play it off like you’re touching yourself. You sneak your fingers into your bra, feeling the cool metal of your blade glide across your thumb. Now.
You fist your fingers in his hair, holding his head down as best you can while you arc the blade toward his neck. Just one good hit, please…
You think you’re going to strike true– you’re so close– and then a firm hand wraps around your wrist, stalling your attack just as it was about to land.
Fuck.
He doesn’t look up right away, but you hear him sigh, feel his hot breath fanning over your thighs and stomach. When he finally does look up it’s with the eyes of a teacher who’s disappointed his student didn’t do their homework.
“Come on now, baby. I was really hoping you’d forget about all this and we could just have a good night together…” He’s pouting, whining, like a child who’s been told he can’t have dessert before dinner. Your shock stills you long enough that he easily maneuvers the blade from your hand, throwing it with a thwack into the wall to his right. It lands perfectly.
This is it. You’re going to die now. But not without a fight.
You spring up from the bed, kicking him a couple times in the process. You’ve missed your only chance. Now, if there’s even the slightest chance of escape, you have to take it.
You bare feet hit the carpet. No time to find your shoes. You dart for the door and hear him groan behind you. For a second you think you might actually make it, but you should know better.
He appears in front of you, straight out of fucking thin air, and his pout has transformed into something a little more sinister. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s talk it out, yeah?”
You take a shaky step back, but you know it’s no use. He’s got you. It’s over.
You swallow and lift your chin– you at least want to die with a little dignity. “Just make it quick. Please.”
He sighs again and slides his hands in his fucking pockets, like this is just a stroll down the street. He stalks toward you, forcing you back until you’re pressed up against another wall. This motherfucker really likes walls.
His pout shifts to a smirk that borders far too closely on a grin. “Oh, no. I’ve always had a thing for taking it slow.”
You nearly snort. He certainly hadn’t had a thing for taking it slow just a minute ago. His arms cage you and your world grows infinitely smaller until it’s just him and those blue-ass eyes staring you down. Some distant part of you thinks you might not mind if it’s the last thing you ever see.
“Damn, I really thought you might give it up and just let me fuck you,” his pout returns. “So disappointing…” he sighs.
Your lips part. “You knew?”
That lights his face up like a Christmas tree. “Sensed you tailing me these past few weeks. Started on theeeee– 21st, no?”
Fuck. You’d been so careful. You’d only tailed him in public spaces, where your energy would be more diluted by the crowds. You’d stayed far enough away that he should only have caught mere glimpses of you, even suppressed your energy. He should not have been able to sense you. But he was Satoru Gojo– things people were not supposed to be able to do came easily to him.
But you have one thing on him.
“The 18th,” you whisper. “Started on the 18th.”
There’s a beat of silence and then his smile is growing wider, wider, wider, until it’s practically blinding you. “Well, shit,” he laughs. “You’re pretty good.”
You let a tiny smile slip through your terror. “I try.”
His eyes travel up and down your body, his pout slipping away to a frown. “What to do with you… hmm…” You lift your chin, taking shallow little breaths through your nose. You’re looking death in the face, but you’d never thought it would be so beautiful. He sighs. “I guess I could let you go.”
You freeze. He notices.
He quirks a brow, another smirk sliding across his lips. “What? Didn’t think that was an option?” You stay silent. No way he’ll let you go. It’s a bluff. A cruel trick. “It’s not like you could try again, gorgeous. I know your energy now and what you look like. Sorry, but your chance is gone.” That was fine by you. Your breaths come a little heavier, hope pulsing in your veins. “But–” shit. “Letting you go is so… boring. Especially after where we left off, yeah?”
Your jaw drops. “You cannot seriously be suggesting that we–”
He cuts you off with a kiss, one that makes your toes curl in the carpet and your stomach clench in anticipation.
“Oh, yes I am,” he chuckles. You feel his hand sliding down your hip, cool and calculating. “I know you weren’t faking the whole thing, gorgeous. Nobody makes out like that when they’re faking it.” You feel your cheeks heat. “And nobody gets this wet-” his fingers snake beneath your skirt, pressing to the wet patch on your panties. “When they’re faking it.” You gasp and reach out, hands clasping onto his shoulders for support. He only chuckles. “No worries, gorgeous. No need for any more faking tonight. I’ll make sure it’s all real.”
Somehow you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist again and you’re headed to the bedroom– again. It’s like a replay– a redo.
“Let’s keep it less killy this time, yeah?”
Your back hits the mattress, your body bouncing lightly on its softness before he’s crawling after you. It’s simultaneously the best and worst deja vu you’ve ever experienced.
His hands slide down your body again, fingertips hooking beneath the hem of your skirt and shimmying it up your thighs until your panties are on full display.
“Shit,” you breathe. He’s moving so fast, like he’s desperate to go further, to get his greedy hands all over your bare skin.
You can’t say you blame him. You feel the same.
His thumbs hook under the fabric of your panties and you know it’s over for you. You can feel his warm breath skating across your thighs, feel the calluses on his hands scraping against your skin. You reach a hand down, tangling it in his hair, and you nearly faint when he smirks and looks up at you with those blue fucking eyes.
“I think I’ve seen this film before, sweetheart.” He tilts his head, resting his cheek on the plush of your thigh. “No more knives hiding anywhere, yeah?”
You clench your jaw, trying to control your pounding heart. You can’t believe you’re doing this. Why are you doing this? You wish you had a better answer than he’s beautiful and sexy and just a glance at him makes you want to rip his clothes off and climb him like a tree.
“Silent, hm? Guess I’ll just have to check myself…”
He’s pressing up the hem up your skirt, more, more, more, until he’s pulling your dress straight up over your arms and running his hands down your bare sides.
“None there…” His fingers cup your breast and you gasp, unable to contain your shock and the jolt that just rushed through you. He traces the outline of your bra. “You had the last one in here, no?” Your chest heaves under his touch, pressing the flesh of your breast up into his fingers. He smirks. “Best check again.” You feel an arm slide beneath you back and then your bra loosens before it’s completely gone.
There’s a beat of silence, of admiration. He gazes down on you and you see his snark falter for just a moment, replaced by a sparkle in his eyes. It makes your skin heat. His fingers brush the swell of your breasts, thumb trailing down over a nipple. You arch and gasp again.
“Fuck. Quit teasing so much.”
He chuckles and the sound washes over you until it settles in your bones. “Sush. I’m not done checking for weapons yet.”
You scowl but before you can even move to open your mouth he’s sliding your panties down your legs, hooking them around your ankles and tossing them somewhere on the floor.
His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you watch him settle himself down between your thighs, eyes never once leaving your center. “Don’t see any knives here, either, but maybe I should double-check…” he breathes.
He hooks your legs over his shoulders and you shudder, your breaths shaky. Fuck. You were supposed to kill him tonight but if he keeps going like this you’ll be the one deceased.
He meets your eyes when he takes the first long lick along your folds. You swear he’s smirking.
Your head rolls back and a pathetic sounding groan slips past your lips. You hadn’t realized how much he’d worked you up. Just the slightest touch feels like heaven.
His tongue nudges at your clits and your legs clench, tightening around his head. He laughs into your cunt and his warm breath skates up and over your tummy. Your fingernails scrape his scalp.
“I think you like this, gorgeous.”
Each word sends little puffs of air against your folds. It’s driving you crazy. You stare down at him, letting a smirk pull at your lips. Your eyes dart over his mouth, wet with your slick, and you don’t fail to notice the way he’s struggling to hold your gaze, eyes flickering back down to your cunt every second. Your smirk grows. “I think you’re liking this, too.”
He licks another stripe, from you pulsing hole to your throbbing clit, and this time he’s the one groaning. “Damn right I am.”
He eats you out like he kisses you– like a starved man, like he’ll die if he stops for just one second, like he can’t live without your juices on his tongue.
You whine and bury both hands in his hair, tugging desperately when his lips wrap around you clit and suck. It’s so much, too much, and yet it’s just right.
Your hips buck and squirm, but he’s got his fingers pressed deep into your flesh, holding you down to take whatever he gives. You think you see heaven when he slides two fingers into your walls, curling them into that gummy spot that has an unbearable heat building deep inside you.
“S-Satoru-” you stutter and you hear him moan and mutter into your cunt like he’s unwilling to leave it for even a second.
“Fuck, yes. Say my name, sweetheart.” Who are you to deny him? You whisper, whine, and whimper his name with every thrust of his fingers, every lick of his tongue. It’s delicious. Every so often he swaps his mouth and hand, thrusting his tongue as deep inside you as he can while his fingers rub dangerous little circles on your clit. Whenever things get a little too filthy he laps his tongue across your entire cunt and along your inner thighs, cleaning up every stray drop. You don’t know how much longer you can last under such a complete and total assault.
“S-Satoru, ‘m gonna-” He licks a thick stripe through your folds that makes your sentence end in a whine, his lips settling to suckle on your clit again.
God, it’s messy. It’s fucking disgusting. His whole chin is covered in spit and slick– and you love it. “Cum for me, baby,” he breathes.
You don’t need to hear much more. You let the heat inside you release with a whine, thighs trembling on his shoulders. Your walls pulse and throb around his fingers, sucking him in and never wanting him to leave. His tongue continues to rub lazy circles around your clit, working you through your high and making it last so long you think you might pass out.
Warmth spreads from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and your muscles tense and clench with each pulsing throb. You swear to god you see fucking stars.
It seems to go on forever, leaving you limp and shaking when the last waves finally slip away.
He presses a final kiss to your clit, one that makes your hips jolt from the overstimulation before he’s lifting himself up. “Wow. That looked like a big one,” he chuckles. He runs a soothing hand along your thigh and you don’t even have the energy to give him some sort of snarky reply. There’s hardly even a pause before something shifts in his eyes. “Let’s see if we can get one that’s even bigger, yeah?”
Before you can even process what he’s said you feel strong hands slide under your thighs, pressing them tightly to your chest as he settles himself close to you
You grasp at the sheets, hearing the clinking of a belt buckle and then the familiar pitch of a zipper being undone.
“Fuck,” you mutter. He’s big. Long and pretty and with a perfectly flushed tip. Your eyes are rolling back just thinking about having him inside you.
A strong hand smooths along your thighs, folding you in a way that feels more vulnerable and exposing than anything you’ve ever done before. He pauses for a beat, just staring down at you silently.
“Gorgeous,” he finally mutters, and something in your heart squeezes. His hand grips your hip firmly, holding you in place and you gasp when you feel him prodding at your entrance. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. Big bad assassin turned simpering little bitch over some good Gojo dick.
“Just relaxxxxx, baby.” His hand rubs soothing little circles into your side and it’s so divinely distracting that it catches you by surprise when he starts pushing into you. You gasp and he only chuckles. Asshole.
He’s big– really big – and the stretch is somehow both painful and perfect. You groan into the air, struggling to take him. Every inch feels like it must be the last, but then there’s more. Your walls clench around him on instinct, trying to force him out.
“Fuck, baby. What did I say about relaxing?” You hiss when his hand skates down your tummy to rub messy circles on your clit. The relief is instant and you moan when you feel him slide in a little further. “There we go. Good girl.”
He continues feeding his dick into you, inch by inch, until his hips finally press to yours and you think you can feel him in your fucking throat. You hear him exhale, like it’s a relief to finally be fully inside you, like he’s been waiting for ages.
You expect him to not hold back, to let himself go and pound into you relentlessly, but he doesn’t. He only leans down closer to you, settling in when he starts a pace of slow, sensual thrusts. His brows pinch, his eyes hardened in concentration.
“Ah, fuck. You’re so tight.”
You want to shoot something back at him, but you’re hardly remembering to breathe with how deep he’s sliding into you. Instead, you just end up holding him tighter, your eyes fluttering shut.
Lips dust across your cheeks, just below your lashes. “Keep your eyes open, gorgeous. Wanna see you.”
You blink, thinking that it’s a notion that feels a little too intimate for a hookup. Regardless, you do as he wants, opening your eyes and holding his gaze.
A smile splits his lips and he presses his forehead to yours, picking up the pace of his thrusts. It’s not long before the sound of skin on skin fills the room and you’re both panting. His breath skates across your skin, hot and heavy, hitching with the groans and whines that spill from his chest. You can’t help but pull him closer, raking your nails down his back hard enough to leave marks. The action makes him emit a noise you can only describe as a desperate whimper. “Fuck, baby. Yes.”
His lips press to yours in a kiss that’s all desperation and teeth and tongue. You kiss him back with equal intensity, your body rocking with each heavy thrust. He’s pounding into you now, frantic for more, more, more of you. You want him to take it, take all of you.
A familiar heat pinches in your stomach and you know it won’t be long before he’s pushing you to another release. His dick drags in and out of you, prodding at the gummy spot inside you with every thrust and brushing so deliciously against your cervix that you can’t stop the moans spilling from your lips. It has you seeing stars again, has you clawing at him and panting into his mouth.
“Satoru… harder,” you breathe. You need more– more of everything, of him.
He groans. “You got it, gorgeous.”
His hips slam into you and it’s so perfect that you can’t help but whimper beneath him. It only gets worse when you feel his fingers on your clit again, hand pressed between your bodies. “Cum on my dick, baby.” Your eyes roll back, that coil inside you rolling tighter. You feel his muscles tensing and shaking above you and you know he’s close, too. “Where do you want it?” he asks, and from the pinched look on his face you can tell exactly where he wants it. You know you’re an idiot for feeling the same.
“Inside,” you breathe. He groans so loudly it rattles in your ears.
“That’s my girl,” he says, but it’s nearly a whisper with how strained it is. His hand continues at your clit, rubbing perfect little circles that make your legs tremble where they’re pressed against your chest. Your jaw hangs open, but you don’t dare close your eyes. Satoru is still holding your gaze intently, desperately, like he needs to see you. The thought throws you over the edge.
You cry his name, clawing at his shoulder and shaking like a leaf as you feel yourself gush and pulse all over his dick. For the second time that evening you feel the heat inside you swell and burst, washing through you in waves that nearly consume you whole. It’s a struggle to hold his eyes, to not let them roll back into your skull and give into the pure ecstasy of your high– especially when he’s cumming, too. You can hear him moaning in your ear, feel him twitching inside you, feel his hot cum coating your walls and there’s just so fucking much of it. You swear he cums for a minute straight before he slumps down onto you, burying his face in your neck as you pant.
You’re shaking and so is he, breaths heaving in and out. Reality slowly starts to seep back in, even with his dick still softening inside you and his cum leaking down your thighs.
You tried to kill him. You failed. You had sex. Now what? Would he really let you go like he’d said he would? You wanted to believe it, but life hadn’t taught you to be that trusting. You should move, untangle yourself from him and escape before he has time to change his mind.
“You assassins are always thinking so hard,” He mumbles into the curve of your neck. “Maybe you should try to relax for once.”
You swallow when you feel him pressing his lips to your throat, trailing up to your jaw. It’s… tender, gentle, and it feels so nice. You can’t help the way you melt into the touch a bit. You feel him smile into your skin. “There we go.”
His hand settles on your waist, rubbing soothing little circles that send a jolt of urgency up your spine. No. You’re enjoying this– being close to him, laying here with him, breathing him in. That’s not what this is supposed to be.
You tense again, shifting to get away from him, but he only sighs and presses his weight onto you.
“Come on, gorgeous. No need to leave so soon. Just stay for a bit, yeah?” He nibbles at your jaw, but it doesn’t work this time. You have to go. You’ve failed your mission. You don’t know what that means for your brother. You’d never thought this would have an ending besides your death.
“I have to go,” you mutter, pushing at his chest.
He chuckles, but you don’t miss the strain and… hurt? “Got something more important than trying to kill me?”
You clench your teeth, trying once again to shove him away. “Yes, actually.”
He finally pulls back to meet your gaze, brows slightly pinched. “Like what?”
You push in earnest now, anger and panic rising in your gut. You have to go, have to check on your brother, have to figure out what you’re going to do. “That’s really none of your business,” you seethe.
You go for another shove, but strong hands clasp around your wrists, pinning them to the bed. His expression has gone flat now, serious. “Actually, I think it’s completely my business. You going to report your failure? Should I expect another assassin soon?”
You scowl, tugging at his grasp and trying to free yourself. “Yeah, probably. He’s an insufferable idiot. I told him it wouldn’t work and it didn’t, but I don’t doubt he’ll send another.”
His face cracks, his brows pulling together again. “If you knew it wouldn’t work then why’d you take the job?”
You struggle again, less angry and more desperate now. “Because he’s got my fucking brother at gunpoint and I’ve got to figure out how the fuck I’m going to save him!” you shout.
There’s silence for a long moment– a long, uncomfortable beat of it– and then his expression softens into something… tender. It sends a chill up your spine. Satoru Gojo was never supposed to be tender with you, and that’s all he’s been.
“I’ll save him,” he says. Your heart jumps and his grip on your wrists loosens, allowing you to slip free.
“What?” you breathe. He sits back, allowing you to prop yourself up into a slightly less vulnerable position.
He exhales slowly, but you don’t miss the way his hand settles on your bare thigh, a comforting weight. “I’ll save your brother and then I’ll take care of your boss.” A smirk creeps across his lips. “What? Don’t think I can do it?”
You stare blankly, lips parted. There’s no doubt he can do it, but that’s not the question swirling in your mind.
“Why would you help me?” You’d tried to kill the man. You couldn’t make heads or tails of a reason why he’d go out of his way to help you.
He chuckles. “Well, in case you didn’t know, I’m a hero of sorts.” You have to fight not to roll your eyes. “And… there’s something I want from you.”
There it is– the catch. He wants something. You have no idea what you could possibly have to give him, but you’re willing for it to be just about anything. You narrow your eyes. “What?”
He grins, but you can see the glint of mischief in his gaze. His hand slides further up your thigh, up your side, over your shoulder, until it rests at the nape of your neck and his face is only inches from your own. “What’s your number, gorgeous?”
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#bree’s fics#jjk#jjk x reader smut#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojou x reader#satoru gojo#gojou satoru x y/n#jjk gojou#gojou satoru x you#satoru gojou#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojo smut#gojo saturo#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu satoru#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojou satoru#jujutsu kaisen#tw: organized crime#tw: attempted murder
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tw/cw: forced impregnation, pregnancy. 🍼
baby trapping könig.
you'd be lying if you said you weren't doing this because you wanted his genes and wealth; you wanted your babies to have a happy family; and könig has the perfect genes and money to care for all four of you.
you'd been having a hard time recently, the pair of you. your relationship had become full of arguments, screaming matches, and yelling at each other over the smallest things. until one day, you thought of a plan to mend (or potentially ruin) your broken relationship.
you knew könig wasn't the type to leave you a single mother; he'd be there the entire way through regardless. his family would shun him and put shame on him if he ever left you struggling.
you'd been riding him; könig's growls and demands for more caused your cunt to drool with pleasure. his large hands gripped your waist, fingernails leaving marks along your body, kneading the flesh on your ass as you bounced harder, quickening your pace as your core began tightening. you whined and mewled quietly, tears pooling in your waterline and your body trembling as you warned könig you were about to cum.
before könig could even mutter a coherent word or a warning, your walls were already clutching onto his veiny and slick boner, his dick twitching and pulsing inside of your wet warmth, groans coming out broken and stuttered, his breathing heavy and fast. he could feel your hole weep around him, your pearly and glossy droplets of arousal running down his shaft, and his creamy load fucked deep into you. his breathing was heavy, and his head was thrown back, his grip aching as he held your hips tightly, attempting to catch his breath and come to the realisation of what just happened.
of course the news of your pregnancy was shocking. he couldn't leave you a pregnant mother; he had to step in. being forced to act like a proper boyfriend meant that he couldn't yell at you for silly things anymore and that he had to tend to your needs, getting worried whenever you attempted to do something like rearrange the furniture.
perhaps he wasn't prepared to become a father to two huge, chubby baby girls, but seeing them fast asleep on your newlywed husband's chest was everything you'd dreamt of.
#orla speaks#tw: baby trapping#tw: forced breeding#tw: forced impregnation#könig x you#könig x reader#konig call of duty#könig call of duty#könig#könig cod#konig x reader#konig#konig cod#i think i may need this RNN
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Accidental Courtship :3
Accidental courtship
ft: Savanaclaw, Octavinella
cw: possible minor spelling errors (blame the dyslexia), established relationship, swearing, implied fem reader
Penguins have this adorable courtship ritual where the male gives the female a smooth pebble, if the female is impressed by the pebble she accepts the gift and mates with the male
I know that jade, Floyd, and Azul aren't penguins, but i thought it would be so cute if their s/o gave them a pebble and basically proposed but not knowing what it meant.
And for the beast-men (Leona, Jack, Ruggie) i thought it would be cute if there was a special beast-men way of courtship, I couldn't think of anything though, but then i remembered that for a lot of mammals (and animals in general) grooming is a form of bonding, so what if licking was a form of courtship?!?!
ENJOY
Savanaclaw
Leona: he awoke from his nap when he felt a pair of hands running through his hair, he sniffed the air, realizing it was just his s/o he closed his eyes once again, surrendering to the comforting feeling of your hands, he hated to admit it but he loved when you played with his hair, it was something he looked forward to and expected. what he didn't expect however was the sudden wet feeling that graced his cheek his eyes shot open and his head snapped in your direction
"so soon? at least wait till we graduate"
your so confused, he realizes that you probably dont know what you just did
"for beast-men, your lick was you asking me to marry you you dumb herbivore"
he wont admit it but his heart was pounding in his chest
Jack: he had finished his classes for the day and was walking around the campus grounds, when he spotted you his tail started to wag a bit, he attempted to stop, annoyed that he was giving away how he felt. he walked over to you, he wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him you smiled up at him, kissing his cheek, he smiled at you and walked with you to the ramshackle dorm, you guys sat in the guest room you had been working on you had been pretty bored all day and wanted to do something to make you laugh, why not lick your boyfriend see what his silly reaction would be, little did you know the implications behind this supposedly innocent action. as soon as your tongue brushed his cheek he was off to sofa and staring at you in shock, he moved so fast that your tongue was still hanging out of you mouth
"i-im not ready"
his voice was shaky and his tail was wagging at a super sonic spread
"i mean you need to meet my parents and my siblings, and i dont have any money, i mean were still in high school, marriage is a very large leap"
you were so fucking confused Marriage? when you asked what he was talking about he looked at you confused
"you licked me... you want to marry me...right?"
you blushed and told him that in your world its just a weird thing to do. he sighed in
"so no marriage then, good, i love you but im not ready for that yet... try again in a few years"
he winked, his tail giving away his feelings
Ruggie: you had gotten some powdered donuts from Sam's store earlier and you were super excited to eat them, you rushed to your dorm hoping to avoid the food thief you called a boyfriend but it was useless, he could probly smell them from 3 miles away, he saw you running smelt the sweet scent of donuts and took off after you, he caught up quickly, snatching the box from you hands
"watcha got here shihihi"
he held the box out of your reach and took a donut out, he quickly shoved it into his mouth as you pouted, you loved him to death but god was he annoying sometimes you noticed how he had gotten some of the powdered sugar on his nose and an idea of revenge sprung into your mind, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down to you
"you gonna kiss me~" he teased you, he wrapped an arm around you resting a hand on the small of your back while his other held the donut box.
you licked his nose, he tensed up, his eyes widened and he stumbled back almost falling over
"i-i dont- i mean-" he turned around, he grabbed his ears and pressed them down, trying to calm himself down, he had never felt so flustered before, but could you blame him? his s/o just asked for his hand in marriage "i accept but... so soon?"
you looked at him confused, he took a moment, realizing that what is a marriage proposal for beast-men might not be the same for humans, but everyone was aware of the tradition, then it clicked, you weren't from here, you had no idea what you had just done. his blush was still there, and to be honest he was dissipated, he licked you cheek "that is a proposal for marriage" he admits, looking away embarrassed, he shoved the donut box back into your hands and quickly walked away mumbling a quick "i love you" his tail was small, but it was wagging as he zoomed away from you.
Octavinelle (penguin esc courtship)
Floyd: he hated working at the cafe, it was so boring, why would he work when he could be with his little shrimpy? he found you outside of the ramshackle dorm, you were on your hands and knees digging round a pile of rocks
"shrimpy~" he lifted you up and hugged you from behind "what are you doing?"
he asked, examining the rocks you held in your hands, you didn't answer, instead you picked on of the rocks you had and handed it to him, it was smooth, and had a faint blue undertone to it, he squealed and snatched it out of your hand, he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you till you felt like you were about to burst, he kissed you passionately before skipping off to tell his brother and Azul, you just stood there, confused as to why your boyfriend was so happy about the rock you gave him, i mean sure it was cool but was it that exciting for him? a couple hours later there was a knock on the door to the ramshackle dorm, you opened the door and say Floyd standing there frowning slightly
"do you know what a rock means"
you shook your head and you swear it looked like he was about to cry
"so you weren't asking me to marry you?"
you shook your head again, now understanding why he was so upset, you hugged him and kissed his cheek promising him to marry him one day, as soon as he heard that he was happy again, hugging and squeezing you all night long.
Jade: he was observing the mushroom he was growing, they had a strange mutation that he hadn't seen before and was eager to study, he was writing down the differences and comparing them to known mutations when suddenly you burst into his room clenching something in your hand, he turned to you smiling at you, he closed his mushroom guide and walked over to you, kissing your forehead and ruffling your hair, you hold out your hand and show a small smooth rock to him, he blushed, hugging you tightly
"are you aware of what your asking me?" he asked, his voice shacking lightly as he hugged you tighter, part of him wished you meant what mer-people mean when they give rocks, but he knows you arent used to the tradtions and culture in this world
he pulled away slightly and when he saw your confused face he smiled sadly "in merfolk culture you asked me to marry you" he chuckled as you blushed "i want to be the one to give you the rock dear" he mumbled into your hair he pulled away caressing your face before picking you up and taking you to the couch to cuddle.
Azul: he was in his office doing paper work and for the cafe, he was stressed, his hand was starting to cramp from the amout of writing he had been doing. the door to his office opened and you entered, his eyes lit up as he say you, your presence always made him feel better.
"hello my love"
he smiled at you softly, he open his arms for a hug and you wasted no time crawling into his lap and hugging him tightly, he kissed your shoulder, you reached into your pocket and handed him a pretty rock you had found earlier, his faced flushed with a blush
"m-my love? i- i mean y-yes ill marry you, but at least meat my family first, do you have a venue in mind? a dress? i can help you look- wait your not proposing? oh... you dont know do you"
as disappointed as he was that he wasn't going to marry you he chuckled and laughed
"my beloved your little rock was a proposal of marriage"
he smirked at you, watching as you face as you realized what you had done, he kissed you shoulder and cheek again
"just know love.... i will say yes, i will always say yes to you"
a couple days later when you walk into his office you she the rock you gave him on the shelf behind his desk, it was in a glass container, when you asked Azul all he said was
"its special to me, i wish to keep it forever"
End notes:
i had no idea what to do for leona and i think its pretty obvious, but i had fun writing this! its my first time writing for twst characters and i think i did ok... i hope
I am accepting requests :)
#twisted wonderland headcannons#disney twst#twst#twisted wonderland#twst wonderland#floyd leech#azul ashengrotto#twst azul#jade leech#twst leona#leona kingscholar#ruggie bucchi#ruggie bucci x reader#twisted wonderland ruggie#ruggie x yuu#jack twst#jack howl#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland imagines#twst x reader#twst headcanons#twst fluff
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Tokyo drifters // drag racer Chris
Warnings: car sex / tit fuck / cum kink / fingering / cunnalingus / size kink / spit kink / enemies to lovers trope / dangerous driving ig (?) / mentions of smoking and brief mentions of alcohol / praise kink
Summary: what do you get when you cross a competitive drag racer with an equally as competitive opponent? Smoke, engine oil and a whole lot of sexual tension, that’s what.
Author’s notes: and so let the obsession with racer fics begin, but with a Chris flavoured twist. Chris strikes me as the illegal, reckless driver type, hence my modern twist on something very fast and furious-esque. Chris x drag racing actually makes me wet u guys I fucking love it, like- imagine him drifting around in a red Nissan Skyline gtr with his black and white leather jacket on, UGH it really just gets me going…
“We could do whatever you want, you could fuck me in the back of your car” - HER, Chase Atlantic
The black asphalt glimmers with a coat of wetness and a pattern of oil spillage slicked over the top of it, the technicolour rainbow greased and worming in the fluorescent lights of the street as the heavy hum of revved engines purr in your ears and echo across the emptied roads.
Beer bottles and cans splash here and there on the dripping concrete with discarded cigarette cases and lighters balanced on top of littered leather jackets.
Illegal drag racing. Bets. Stacks of money shoved into the pockets of the driver that is triumphant at the end of the night.
You’re here because this place is rife with the best of the best. The ones who really soak their hands in the leather of their steering wheels, who breathe the musk of their seats, and who burn the rubber marks of their legacies into the very streets that they rocket through each early A.M.
At present you stand to the side of the pavement, smelling the stench of broiling petrol mingled with the scent of flavoured cigarette smoke.
Your eyes survey the various Suzukis, Mustangs and Toyota drifters, all in different colours and all with different painted decals to signify each of the driver’s unique personality, wrinkling your nose at the lack of female drivers leaning against their own cars.
There are plenty of people here.
The rules are simple, you bet on the driver you wager is going to win and then whatever number of votes the driver receives determines their starting position at the beginning of the race.
As your eyes pass over the mingling people chatting in heaped groups with different drivers, you dismally notice the one person who you most definitely did not want to run into tonight. The only other person who can match your speed.
Great. Well that’s just fucking fantastic.
He is on his own. His lanky figure leaning against his electric red Nissan drifter with sleek black wheels and windows, his raven brown hair dusting his face in waving curls as his hands tuck themselves into his black and white leather racer jacket.
A long white cigarette lies perched in between his lips, smoke lazily oozing out from the lit cherry before dispersing into the cool night air in front of him.
He makes no effort to smoke it properly, simply lets it rest in between the purse of his lips whilst he too, observes his competition.
That is, until his eyes trail their way over to you. Now you’re both looking at each other, and he finds it within himself to cockily smirk, your silent rivalry unnoticed by the rest of the bustling audience here to simply bet and watch the race.
You scoff quietly, pushing your feet into a walk, you’ve got to go and talk to him now.
You gradually make your way across the sopping wet tarmac road, heading straight in the direction of the one man who always knows how to rub you the wrong way.
As you go, you fish one of your own cigarettes out of your cigarette case, and then light it. It sparks, and he raises his eyebrows expectantly whilst waiting for you to reach him.
When you do, you stop and nod at him in greeting, mumbling a curt ‘Chris’ after whipping your cigarette from out of your mouth and resting it within your pointer and middle finger.
To contrast your cold behaviour, your arch nemesis tilts his head playfully, his smugness practically oozing from his figure as he retorts with a ‘hey sugar… ready to lose tonight?’. Your nostrils flare.
The only reason you came tonight to race is because you didn’t think Chris would be here.
You fucking hate racing him, in fact, you hate even being within a close proximity to him. He drives you up the wall, irritates you to no end and most importantly- absolutely chokes you with conflicted feelings.
Because how can someone that you hate this much also be someone you feel so irresistibly attracted to?
Chris always finds the most painful of ways to dig under your skin and clamp his claws around you until you’re gasping for air and practically begging to be let free.
Free from the inescapable prison that coaxes you into constantly thinking about him, even when he’s not around.
‘You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you win tonight, that money is mine’ you spit a laugh, before feeding your cigarette into your mouth and inhaling it to calm your nerves. He makes your fingers twitch, and sometimes you’re not sure if it’s because you want to wrap them around his throat or use them to pull his neck down into a kiss.
He raises his eyebrows and starts to once again use the mocking lilt to his tone that you know oh-so-well. ‘Oh really? Because last time I checked I’m pretty sure that money had my name on it’. He readjusts his lean on his red Nissan to make himself seem taller, and you grit your teeth at his teasing antics.
You don’t answer, and instead open you mouth. Chris watches the smoke that you had been holding in your lungs come seductively curling out, and he swallows nervously. It mingles between you two like a barrier of attraction before melting away into the damp air above you as you resume your usual grilling.
‘How’d you even find out about this race anyway? Thought you stayed on the South side?’
Chris shrugs and basks in the obvious annoyance your voice contains. He knows he’s in dangerous territory, this is your side of town, and you know the roads way better than him over here. But then again, when has Chris ever backed down from a challenge?
Plus, he fucking loves teasing you. He gets such a rise out of it every single time, in which case it’s worth hauling his ass all the way over to the other side town just for a race.
Just to see you.
He can’t help it, he just can’t keep himself away.
‘Friend of a friend’ he responds vaguely, before deciding to pluck the almost burnt out cigarette from his lips so that he can thrust it to the floor and crush it underneath his sneaker.
You roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. You can’t believe that Chris managed to weasel his way into this race, because it’s definitely going to ruin your chances of going home with that prize money. To say Chris is a reckless driver is an understatement, he’s fucking good, but he also takes risks, risks that bargain with his life and the lives of others, so naturally, when people see his notorious red car pull up to races they panic and stay far behind him.
Not you though.
‘You best count your fucking days Chris because there’s no way in hell I’m letting you win this time…’.
Chris chuckles, his eyes narrowing in a siren-like way before reaching up to your mouth and slowly pulling your cigarette from out of your lips. ‘Yeah…? Well we’ll see about that, won’t we baby cakes?’ he chides, before fully stealing your cigarette and putting it into his own mouth without hesitation.
Your blood boils at his persistence and you spin around in a rage, wishing you could just run him over with your car. At least that would stop the heartbeat from pulsing in between your legs at his weirdly sexual action.
After watching you whisk away, Chris quickly gets into his car and slams his red door closed, satisfied with how flustered you had looked. Revving his engine with a humongous effort to get the race going, he knuckles his leather steering wheel before pulling away from the crowd to let them know that the race will shortly commence.
He is definitely eager to prove you wrong as he observes the way the heavy crowd of people disperse from the middle of the road and let the competitors and their cars through to their designated spots for the countdown.
Engines throttle and rev, starting up and growling like hungry beasts whilst you get into your own car. You then drive to your own assigned spot which had been conveniently placed somewhere in the middle for tonight’s race.
Suddenly, you spot a flash of red roaring up from behind you in your rear view mirror and you resist the roll of your eyes at Chris’ boy racer behaviour.
Chris’ car comes creeping up to level with yours. Slowly, the driver’s window is rolled down and you are faced with his attractive side profile, his nose delicately curving and his jawline popped. Except, now his hair is pulled back by a red bandana, leaving his earrings to glint in the fluorescent artificial light.
He faces forward, but then turns with another smirk plastered to his lips.
You roll your own window down, your engine also screaming to go, but instead of a red colour, your car exudes a violet purple hue, your front and rear lights tinted indigo with plastic filters that make the car in front of you glow a hazy pink.
‘May the best driver win, sugar’
The devil’s smile is concocted between his own teeth, the cheeky glint in his eye echoing the way he mockingly puts his pointer and middle finger up to his forehead to salute you before putting his foot on the gas pedal and roaring ahead to take his privileged place at the front of the line.
᧔♡᧓
Engines growl, their exhaust pipes spitting out puffs of gasoline scented smoke whilst each of the multicoloured cars creep into their places.
An orange car motors past you on your right, and a grey and blue one slides past your left, leaving you in the wet spray that their scuffed tyres kick up, but you’re not paying attention to them.
Craning your neck, your eyes narrow and your jaw grits at the back bumper tail of Chris’ neon red vehicle, the red brake lights glowing like the eyes of a demon as he simply sits stationary.
The city lights glow from the skyscrapers and illuminate the starting route of your racetrack, the wet asphalt making the reflections of the luminescent lampposts shine and bounce about the technicolour array of cars on display.
Chris thinks he’s better than you? Well, you’re just going to have to put that theory to the test then.
You hope that his heart beats just as competitively as yours, his eyes constantly checking for your pink headlights in his rearview mirror.
Finally, reaching into your glove compartment to slide on your black tinted sunglasses, you shut it back up again to listen to the heavily increased revs of car engines. The muffled cheers from the audience provide white background noise whilst the drivers’ exhausts rattle and their pipes growl.
A woman in sky-high stilettos then comes walking into view with a white flag raised above her head.
The crowd suddenly silences, all on the edges of their seats with anticipation.
Without another moment to lose, she quickly swipes down the flag, the white fabric fluttering as she goes before engines shriek and cars jerk forward, each driver putting the pedal to the floor. This forceful way of starting roars the inner workings of their cars whilst they frantically try to switch gears.
Coloured machines weave in and out of each other as the gods of drag racing look down upon the fast-paced urgency of the race, drivers testing one another and pushing their bodies to the limits as they zip and swerve about the road.
You keep your eyes locked upon Chris’ monster of a car though, because it easily pulls out in front and his drive forward quickly clears of any other cars. They just can’t keep up with his intricate drift work and very readily fall behind him.
You’ll admit, his turn of the wheel is masterful and his eye for the surroundings is impeccable as he nearly just shaves around corners and obstacles whilst keeping a steady track of the pathway ahead. However, this only increases your desire to win more.
You find your foot gently feathering upon the accelerator, your car rattling within your ears as the wind from your open window beats against your face and whips your hair around your neck.
You have already overtaken a handful of cars by now, with tyres screeching and smoke exuding from the rubber.
The eyes of every racer competing constantly zip about, just to check for lurking police cruises whilst traveling down the racer’s route through the nearly abandoned city road.
Your beasts for machines rocket past alleyways, giving homeless people a show as your paint jobs flash by their eyes in a juvenile blur.
Gears click as both yourself and Chris constantly press down on the clutch to drift around tight corners, your teeth gritting as you realise that you are now only a few competitive cars behind him.
Chris, meanwhile, frantically looks through his wing mirror to count how many cars lie between yourself and him.
But, then he widens his eyes and has to adjust it in confusion at the infuriating sight of your purple car hightailing it up the road to try and catch him. Already?
This always fucking happens whenever he gets a head start.
He rolls his eyes, stepping on his gas pedal even more to makes his car groan and jerk away on in front once again.
His bandana stays secured onto his head whilst he chews irritably against a fresh toothpick selected from out of his own glove compartment that also contains random junk such as cherry cigarette packets and condoms.
‘Fuckin’ woman’ He spits underneath his breath before aggressively jerking his wheel to the side and rounding another corner perfectly. His car skids and his wheels screech over the asphalt, centimetres away from hitting the curb before he’s straightening his steering wheel up again.
This time though, he can see the finish line in the distance, the small crowd of spectators gathering like little observant ants, watching as his car comes racing towards them from the mist of the city horizon.
However, you come in straight behind him with your engine roaring and your gasoline bubbles popping. Soon, your window reaches his, and you look to your left to see his side profile.
His jaw is clenched with his eyes narrowed and his eyebrows sitting in a glared furrow. His pupils then quickly flit to your car, and you pass each other a challenging look, hate spiralling within your gazes.
And everything is passive between the two of you, that is, until Chris decides to fight dirty.
His lips purse and he yanks his neck to face forward once again, before turning his wheel aggressively. His drifter then swerves near your wheels, nearly knocking you off to the side and sending you skidding into the curb. You frantically have to straighten back up again after only narrowly avoiding the crunch of his front bonnet.
That fucker.
‘HEY!?’
You yell to him with your window down, but he puts his own one up in response, his lips twitching up into a mischievous smile as he tries to tango with you upon the stretch of your own battlefield containing engine oil and concrete road strips.
He goes in for another direct hit, your tyres dangerously close to each other’s as his machinery tries to ram into yours.
Worryingly, you realise that Chris probably isn’t going to stop this dangerous teasing because of his determination to win. So, through your better judgement, you slow yourself and defeatedly allow his cocky red bumper to cut in front of your bonnet.
Chris beats you by a second, his wheels screeching over the pathetic make-shift line drawn in squiggly black graffiti.
You’re practically seething at this point.
After you angrily jerk your steering wheel, your car drifts to the side and it expels hot smoke from the grind it has against your back tyres before coming to a sideways halt.
You put your car in park, take off your seatbelt and speedily open your car door.
As you step out, you see that Chris has also stopped and gotten out himself, his sneakers crunching against the wet tarmac and his leather jacket squeaking whilst he slams his own car door shut behind him.
You clock eyes with each other and immediately find yourself storming up to his victorious figure that yet again leans against his car door suavely.
Whilst making your way over, someone sidles up to him and hands him a thick wad of cash that he stuffs right into his conniving little pockets with a mean smile of his face, aimed directly at you.
As you reach him, you just can’t help yourself, and before you know it you’re knuckling your fists into his leather jacket and yanking him right down to your face. His breath hitches in shock as he sees your lips close enough to claim that you are practically kissing.
Instead of actually kissing him however, you spit out a ‘what the fuck are you playing at?’ with your eyes narrowed and glinting frostily in the city lights.
They travel over his face, scanning him with scepticism whilst little strands of his raven brown hair curl out from the hold of his red bandana, no longer combing the shorter ones back and just letting them freely swish about his eyes in the wind.
‘Listen honey if you want me to pay for any scratches I gave to your paint job no can do, told you that money was mine…-‘ he cheekily retorts, using one of his ridiculously irritating nicknames for you to further worsen your drumming heart beat.
You didn’t realise you had pulled him this close until now.
This makes your nostrils flare with anger and you quickly release him, seemingly in denial of your own feelings as you listening to the way the zips of his leather jacket jingle at the force of your strength.
You scoff, sticking your nose up and further voicing your discontent at him.
‘Chris- you fucking cheated?!’ You shout with a small laugh in disbelief, your arms crossed over your chest as you refer to his illegal drag collision.
‘No proof? Didn’t happen, sweetheart’ he sassily bites back at you, which makes you falter, but your glare only harshens after he immaturely pokes the centre of your chest.
Does this man just make it his mission to piss you off as much as humanly possible?
Both of you maintain tense eye contact, your chest heaving whilst Chris’ eyes subtly flick downwards to soak in the look of your body.
As more coloured drifters cruise past the finish line, the silence gets awkward, awkward enough for you to spontaneously shouts a shaky ‘I want a fucking rematch!’, not really sure what provoked you to voice this random request. Usually, you couldn’t bear to be around Chris for more than 5 seconds at a time.
So why did you all of a sudden have the urge to be alone with him?
The way you look at him prompts Chris to suspect that this request probably isn’t just about having a rematch, that in fact it’s something much deeper… what that is, he doesn’t know yet, but he’s prepared to find out.
Clearing his throat, he slips a box of cherry scented cigarettes from out of his leather jacket whilst looking around wearily. You swallow, and watch him in silence as he puts one into his mouth and flicks on his lighter. Holding it up to the cherry, it sparks, and a small wisp of smoke puffs out from his pursed mouth.
He opens the door of his Nissan once again before sliding inside.
The scent of maraschino cherries diffuses across his ride and melts into the white leather seats as he shuts his door before using his hand to turn on the ignition. Then, he rolls down his window to thankfully still see you standing there expectantly and waiting for an answer.
Chris simply sits back in his seat, watching the wind comb through your hair as sickly sweet cherry flavoured smoke finds its way up into your nose.
‘Well?’ You raise your eyebrows and snap at him, your hip cocking sassily. But even though your exterior front looks confident, your insides panic and your mouth becomes dry at the very much tangible sexual tension within the air.
Chris looks forward for a second, leaving the both of you in silence once again so that you can take in the far away laughs and clinks of beer bottles from the left over straggling gamblers that are now only talking about Chris.
He squints his eyes with his cigarette still in his mouth, deep in thought, before crinkling his nose and sniffing, reaching his hand out to twist the keys of his car in the ignition properly. His car rumbles to life as he takes out his cigarette, resting it in between his two fingertips.
That arm decides to leans itself on the car door as his wrist and hand dangle out of the window.
‘Meet me at Carolina Point at 3am’
He mumbles to you, as if not wanting anyone else to know about this secret little rendezvous before he’s pushing down the handbrake of his car and it’s lunging forward.
He motors away with a singular hand gripping the steering wheel, turning it smoothly and leaving you with the remnants of his car exhaust fumes, his cherry cigarette butts and the smell of his black and white leather jacket.
᧔♡᧓
It’s 3am.
And music quietly hums from your radio as you pull up next to Chris’ parked car, the glittering red paint job a flashy eyesore when matched with the dark background of the skyline.
Carolina point overlooks a section of the city that is well known by racers like him and yourself and so it provides a nice backdrop for the strange meeting that you two are about to have. Chris sits on the bonnet of his car, looking down to the veins of his city before twisting his neck to observe the way you get out of your own car.
A small smile ticks at the side of his lips before he quickly wipes it away and stands up from his bonnet, the machinery creaking and the suspension bouncing upwards after being released from his weight.
‘Surprised you came’ he muses, before spitting the old toothpick from in between his lips into the long grass.
You roll your eyes and meet him halfway, already nervous about being alone with him in such a close proximity, especially after what had already unfolded between you two beforehand.
‘Course I did, you cheated’ you muse spitefully, and stop right in front of his taller frame. But Chris edges a little bit closer after you had come to a halt, which makes your palms sweat.
You try to keep your composure, fully intent on getting on with the business of the rematch you had wanted, until you fail when you physically watch the way Chris’ eyes dilated at the sight of you.
It makes you nervous to see his body react to you in such a way, and that nervousness only gets worse after he intentionally lowers his voice to purr a quiet ‘oh yeah? An’ how are we gonna fix that hm?’. His head tilts and his tone is as smooth as caramel, the tease almost belittling in manner.
Your chest expands with a stuttering deep breath, the smell of cherries tart on his tongue and overwhelming as the scent stains his jacket too.
Your heart quickens in pace the closer Chris’ head gets to yours, but you don’t move back, even though every siren in your body imaginable screams that this is so terribly fucking wrong.
You blink up at him, almost forgetting why you’re supposed to be here before dumbly stuttering ‘b-by having a rematch…’.
Chris looks at you so hungrily… so primally, and you hardly even get the time to finish your sentence before your mouth is being engulfed by his. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, and neither do you.
His lips are soft and buttery as they rub against yours, your whole entire body stiff and your eyes wide, before you ever so slowly melt into his embrace.
Chris utters a quiet whimper of content and the noise almost makes you squeeze your thighs together. You didn’t even realise Chris was capable of making a noise like that.
Your lips smack together after Chris pulls away, saliva wetting the moist pink skin.
You’re trapped within a daze, utterly stunned and drunk on the taste of his mouth. Chris’ eyelashes feather, and he bites his lip in nervousness, testing the waters of what he’s just done to you. But you look as though you’re absolutely enamoured by it and so he grins in satisfaction.
He goes back again, this time more aggressively, to suck and pull on your lips, and you freely let him, not a single thought behind your eyes apart from the way his teeth pull on your flesh.
‘I- I want a rematch’
Chris pulls away just once for you to voice this timid defiance, however his only thought is concerned with how deliciously red and juicy your lips look. He acknowledges you only by dipping back in and pressing another soft kiss to your peachy pillows, humming a little ‘mhm’ in agreement but also not really listening to you as his face twists and his nose brushes against yours.
The wet sound of his lips sucking your plumper ones into his mouth makes your panties dampen.
‘What if I wanna make it up to you in some other way?’ He daringly mumbles against your lips which wets the skin even around them with his saliva. The arch of your back is subtle, but it’s still fully there as you weight up the pros and cons of this situation. But really… are there any cons aside from the afterthought of knowing that you let your sworn enemy touch your body in the most intimate of places?
At the present, it seems like such a small price to pay within the delusion of your lust. And Chris’ hands already feel just so magical when their big impressions carve their way down your waistline, sliding over the bumps of your hips.
Fuck they’re huge in comparison to yours. And that thought alone makes you wet, your folds becoming even slicker at the motion of Chris using his hands to force you up against the hard side of his car.
The metal and glass behind your back makes you shiver and the machinery is freezing cold in the already frosted mountainous air of Carolina point.
This cold suddenly brings you clarity, and for a second you have to fully stop and pull away from his intoxicating tongue, just so you can voice a stupid ‘wait- what are we doing…?’.
Your mind goes reeling and your eyes look like saucers when remembering just who you are kissing… and who is pushing you up against his car.
Your chest heaves and your voice sounds fully strangled, the vision of making out with Chris plaguing your mind and turning it rotten.
But Chris only gazes at you, understanding how weird this must feel, because it feels weird to him too. However he can’t help it, one taste was enough for him and now he’s hooked.
He pushes back into you with haste, his thick hips greedily pinning you to the side of his car as he groans an ‘ugh- fuck it, who even cares anymore?’.
It’s almost like he’s jointly voicing this to his own self control, because he then allows himself to messily paw at the side of his vehicle, frantically looking for the door handle to his back seat whilst fully enthralling himself within your kissing lips.
Your tongues twist, and it’s messy, but you love it just the same. Especially after feeling Chris beneath his baggy black jeans, thick and throbbing for you when he moans in approval at the touch of the door handle.
He curls his fingers into it and yanks it open, the suctioning sound of the door making your heart gallop tenfold because of the connotations that come with Chris forcefully pushing you into the backseat of his car.
Are you two really about to do this? What even happened to get you to this stage?
It all seems like such a blur now, the spontaneity of your actions helping to numb the idea of regret. An idea that you know you’re defintely going to feel in the morning.
But not tonight… tonight is about wandering hands and careless affections, between two people who just so happen to supposedly ‘hate’ each other.
He grabs you with a growled laugh of ‘c’mere’, his large palms splaying underneath your thighs as he hoists you into his arms and walks you around the sharp edges of his red door.
Practically throwing you inside, he’s eager to clamber in himself and restart his torturous decent of your luscious neck skin.
So he does, and he slams the door behind him whilst doing so.
Meanwhile, you spread your legs to let him into you, your ass sinking into the plush white leather of his seats as your back comes to rest against the opposite side door.
Now you’re seeing a completely different Chris, that hovers over you and gives you that toe curling gaze he’s perfected over the many months of first competing with you.
The gaze is reminiscent of the first time you two ever raced together, with a hint of attraction and chemistry there, until you started to hate each other as soon as it became more of a competition to see which one was better.
This Chris is so astronomically different in comparison to the one you had grown to absolutely despise, the two of you stuck in this viciously competitive cycle of building up tension after tension until all of it just burst and ended up with Chris’ head right in between your legs.
He yanks off every single article of clothing wrapped around your lower half, trying to resist the urge of snapping open your underwear and making a mess of the delicate red lace as soon as he sees it.
Fuck. You’re even wearing his racing colours.
‘These for me?’ He teases and raises his eyebrows whilst simultaneously slipping off your panties and lifting them to the side of his face.
Without knowing any better, you smirk and nod, guessing that it’ll drive his narcissism absolutely crazy. And you’re right. Because soon after, he scrunches up the soaked panties into his fist and throws them up to the front of the car. They messily then land on the dashboard.
He smirks down at your shining red cunt, wet stickiness practically drooling from out of your hole already.
‘Imma drive with your panties on the dashboard all the way home so that anyone who seems them will know how good I fucked this pretty little pussy…’
You swallow a pant at his crude language, not being able to help the shake of your hands or the blink of your eyes. ‘Do it… for me?’ You coquettishly breathe back, and it only drives Chris up the wall further. With this being said, he obeys and darts his head down to your centre, wasting no time in peppering small suctioned kisses against your inner thighs.
They quiver as soon as his face gets closer to your centre, and you know he’s just about to put his tongue on you because he smirks, gearing up to say another filthy thing.
‘M’sorry I cheated baby’ he pouts boyishly, before giving your clit an open-mouthed kiss.
You whine and buck your hips up into the firm hold of his rough hands, that have slid around to force you down and keep you from squirming away at his stimulation. ‘Forgive me?’ He speaks with his head tilted. Then a thick globule of spit comes tumbling from his mouth to plink onto your throbbing heat.
It greedily rolls down your pinkness and Chris goes in for another heavy kiss, this time closing his eyes to eat you like his life depended on it, licking around you clit and even dipping himself into your hole. He’s not sure when he’ll next get the chance to fuck you like this and so savours it with as much fever as he possibly can.
All the while, you lie with your back propped up against the opposite door, looking down at him with your calves smoothly slung around his shoulders.
You hypnotically watch how your thighs twitch at every opportunity Chris gives you, his tongue rolling over several pleasure points in an effort to get you to come.
‘Mmm-okay’ you moan before bitting your hand and mumbling through your teeth ‘I forgive you, please- please just let me cum’.
He had been savouring this for a while now, leisurely dipping his tongue in and out of you whenever he felt like it as he pressed his other palm over the thick bulge in his jeans, trying to suppress its ache by kneading it downwards and squeezing himself.
He struggles not to openly thrust his hips into his hand at the tiny whimpers you make, because you sound so pretty trying to reach your high.
He sighs before giving you one last rolling kiss. ‘I guess that’s only fair, alright I’ll let you cum sweetheart’.
Straight after he says this you let out a heaved ‘Jesus Christ!’, your cry brandishing tears within your eyes as one of Chris’ long fingers unexpectedly slide right up into your throbbing cunt, your precome already acting as natural lubricant to coat his skin.
It’s almost mouthwatering how good it feels, for both you and Chris. His finger seems to fit in there perfectly, and so he adds another, stroking your walls and curling them upwards delicately.
‘Can you fit three in there baby…? Please let me put three in… you look pretty when you’re drooling for my fingers’ he whines, his voice high pitched and begging for you to allow him the pleasure of three.
‘Fuck- yes, please, please put three in. I can handle it!’ You moan in desperation, not really knowing what to do with your hands, so one feeds itself into his luscious brown locks whilst the other one curls around the white leather headrest of the back seat you’re sitting on.
You white knuckle it when Chris effortlessly coos ‘there’s a good girl… gonna make you feel so good’ whilst inserting his third finger, its length making your back arch and the windows of the car fog up.
‘Look at you… fucking up the back of my car, needy girl’ Chris muses whilst observing the way some of your wetness leaks out and blobs onto his nice white leather seats, the condensation of your horny breath staining the windows and your hand practically clawing at his headrest whilst his fingers work inside of you.
‘S-shut up. You wreck the outside of my car, I’ll wreck the inside of yours’ you bite back sassily, your whole entire chin tipping back in ecstasy as you feel your orgasm clawing beneath the lining of your gut.
Chris’ fingers speed their pace at this, and the squelch of them working past your screaming orgasm nearly makes him cum all over himself within his pants, especially after hearing your continuous moan at the motion his harsh fingertip thrusts.
After you calm, you careen forward to grip onto the wrist of his hand, tapping out immediately in overstimulation. He pulls his sopping wet fingers from out of your core and then lollipops them into his mouth.
As you sit there and regain your breath, your cheeks redden impossibly further at Chris’ quipped demand of ‘take off your top’, still with his fingers bitten in between his teeth.
You do as he says, watching him pull his hand back out of his mouth with hooded eyes as you peel off the tight fabric.
He doesn’t even have to tell you to take off your bra either, you just do it, giving him the gorgeous sight of your tits resting on your chest.
‘This good enough for you?’ you tease, letting one of the straps from your bra slide down your pointer finger before tossing it next to your already discarded panties that sit upon his dashboard.
Chris blinks at your devilish action in shock, before putting a smirk back onto his handsome face.
‘Oh I am going to fuckin’ destroy you’ he cackles playfully, before curling his hands around the backs of your thighs and pulling your body to lay down horizontally.
You gulp as you tilt your chin upwards, watching the way he pulls his jeans and his underwear down with his gleaming cock springing up to hit his lower abdomen.
Licking your lips, you have to squeeze your thighs together at the sight of it as he then turns towards you and advances forward, with his lower half bare and his racer jacket and black t-shirt still in tact over his top half.
His pulsing cock stands on end, and he bites his bottom lip whilst clambering over your thighs to get to your stomach, much to your utter confusion.
That is, until you realise why he asked you to take your top off in the first place.
Planting his knees on either side of your underarms, they sink into his plush leather as he towers over you, grinning at your heaving chest. From his height advantage, he gathers a jewel of spit into his mouth and tips his head forward, allowing it to ooze outwards and splash against the valley in between your tits.
You swallow at this, watching as he then shuffles downwards and leans the head of his dripping prick onto the puddle of saliva he had created.
‘Push your pretty tits together sugar’.
Now when using this nickname, it sounds sickly sweet instead of full of malice, coated with a thin layer of cherry sauce as his cheeky grin perfectly mirrors the cheeky action of him using his hands to help you squeeze the sides of your tits together.
Your skin feels sticky with Chris’ spit and Chris lets out the ungodliest of groans when pushing his tip forcefully into the crack between them.
You hiss in pain at the feeling of Chris’ cock wedged against your tits, but bite your lip and ignore it in favour of watching the way he fucks his hips into them.
His pink head disappears in and out of the top opening and he has to fall forward and grip his hands onto the door to keep himself steady. He ruts himself faster with the added security and his car begins to shake at the aggressive motion.
He had done the majority of building up his orgasm whilst eating you out, so now all he had to do was finish it off, and what better way to do that than with his cock buried in between your tits?
‘Fuck Chris-’ you mumble with your mouth dropped open and your eyes glued to the way small drips of precum already leak out from his cock onto the flushed skin of your chest.
‘Ugh- I’m… I’m cumming- fuck- open your m-mouth’ Chris moans into the air, squeezing his eyes shut as the elastic band of his orgasm snaps and forces cum to come squirting out of his head, some of the sticky white liquid coating your chest, but the other half of it finding its way into your open mouth.
You wait for Chris to milk himself dry, your tongue still out expectantly, until he sees that you’re wanting permission to swallow it.
To help you, he reaches out one of his tremouring fingertips to gather up the cum smeared over your chin, then he slides them into your mouth.
You suck on them, swallowing all of what he has to give you with a tired but appreciative hum as he looks down at you with glassy eyes of complacency.
What the fuck just happened between you two… and why did he feel like he wanted to do it all over again?
᧔♡᧓
‘You still really not gonna pay for any of the scrapes you gave my car huh?’ You speak up into the awkward silence as Chris shuts the back door of his Nissan, leaving the smell of sex to permeate within his car.
He lights one of his cigarettes and snorts, trudging his way around to the front of his car before yanking the door open, your bra and panties still resting on the dashboard and yourself still very much naked underneath your regular clothes.
‘In your dreams sugar’.
There’s another silence as the two of you just look at each other, not knowing if whether or not you’ll ever see each other in that kind of vulnerable light again.
One thing is for sure though, no one can ever know about what happened here tonight.
Chris looks almost hesitant to go with his face softening and smoke tumbling from out of the red cherry of his cigarette. He blinks to snap himself out of it though.
‘Cya at the next race baby…’
He tips his head and then slides down into his car as you look at him wantonly.
‘Yeah… cya’.
᧔♡᧓
Author’s notes p.2: hot. RIVAL RACERS AND ENEMIES TO LOVERS TROPE OH YEAHHH. This is defintely the longest fucking thing I’ve done so I apologise for that lol. And I’m also equally sorry for the ridiculously long wait omg, I’ve been hyping this up too much so I’m sorry if it’s not that great bc most of it was written on major sleep deprivation haha. Also guysss exciting stuff is happening as I’m almost at 2,000 followers and me and @luv4kozume have got something really fun planned for us both hitting 2k!!
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How does anyone deal with all the black mould in the UK?? I’ve just spent the better part of an hour scrubbing down an entire wall and part of the ceiling with bleach. Thing is, I’ve got piss poor eyesight and because my place never gets direct sunlight and only has one window, it’s usually pretty dark so I completely missed it. But how?? How does anyone deal with this?
There’s not a lot to be said for where I’m originally from but black mould even in small patches was call for alarm and it really only occurred after hurricane season.
#I miss when my biggest housekeeping problem was fighting off violent wildlife#I thought I was gonna die#I only noticed it coz I’m doing a deep clean since my mother is visiting#yeah no wonder I’ve been hacking my lungs up#I decided to fuck it and turn on the heat and the dehumidifier in that room#’that room’ being my damn bedroom. where I sleep and breath each night.#I miss not having seasons. the windows are the worst I have to wipe them off with a tea towel everyday#I’ve got a bunch of little dehumidifier boxes near the windows#but they go so fast#and the electric ones cost sooo much money to run#and heat - which prevents mold in the first place - is also too expensive#covid also completely knocked out my sense of smell so I couldn’t smell the mold growing#I’ve been coughing for months
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𝐁𝐄𝐓 !
꒰ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ꒱ billionaire!scaramouche x reader
꒰ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ꒱ nsfw content. reader gambling in a casino. rough sex. creampie. squirting. literally not proofread at all </3
꒰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ꒱ betting dollars upon dollars with a billionaire. surely a good idea! ...right?
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄— i'm gonna need you all to forgive me for being away for a whole month and coming back with a half-assed fic </3 it's been really tiring but i'm doing okay! (for now)... i really do hope that you all enjoy this even though my writing is honestly a bit rusty now that i haven't written a single sentence in the month's long "break" i took. i love you all, thank you so so much for 1.5k !! 🤍 + thoughts on this new layout? :3
he was just another run-of-the-mill billionaire hanging out at casinos, local and private, for the ordinary people and the rich. you just so happen to be a regular at a specific casino and bar called the 'devil's temptation'. you spend a few hours of your day there every week or so, taking home stacks of your winnings home each time you go.
you were quite well known by the other regulars as a money magnet of sorts due to your high win rate whichever game you play, especially poker. your night was going on normally as per usual, well, until a man approached you.
"care for a game or two, pretty lady?"
☆★
"royal flush." yet another easy win on your part. you smiled at the man softly as you layed down your hand. he simply chuckles and looks at you lustfully, "huh, well played, indeed. though, why don't you say we make a... different type of bet this time?" he's being quite vague, you raise an eyebrow at him, "do you mind elaborating?"
a smirk from him as a reply, "accompany me to my mansion for the night, then you'll see." hesitant yet curious, you agreed. but how in hell would you have thought the said bet would end up with you getting fucked by the man named scaramouche?
★☆
"fuck...!" a loud whimper rips through your throat at the way he thrusted in and out of your sensitive cunt, you tried your hardest not to cum. after all, that was your deal, if he came first, he'd give up over a million dollars to you in the form of a cheque. but if you were to cum first, you'd be his, body, heart, and soul.
your upper body had already surrendered to him as your face was buried in a pillow, your torso flat on the fine silk sheets of his bed. your elbows failed in keeping you held up as he fucked you relentlessly—hard, deep, and fast.
"c'me on, don't you wanna cum around my cock, baby?" he insists and brings his hand over to grope at one of your breasts, squeezing at its' softness and using his fingers to tease your nipples. you nod, to answer his question. but of course you didn't, you wanted to win the bet. who would refuse a large amount of money?
...but maybe you'll have another chance at such an offer.
your body couldn't take any more. you bit the soft pillow in front of you to muffle out the lewd moan you mewled out as your body shivered intensely at the euphoric feeling that hit you hard like a truck.
a dark chuckle from behind, "guess you're mine now, yeah?" he whispers before pulling out all the way, only to slam back inside to earn yet another symphony of moans straight from your drooling lips. his own mouth latches onto your neck to kiss, lick, and even bite at the flesh, leaving marks all over from the area of your neck to your shoulder.
his hand trails further down to pinch at your clit, causing you to scream out his name in extreme ecstasy, squirting as you completely dampen the sheets—all the while he began to shoot ropes and ropes of his cum deep inside of your pussy, reaching your womb.
not even a minute to calm down from your highs, he was already repositioning the two of you. firm grips from his hands laying you on your back and manhandling you right where he wanted you to be. a delicious mating press. it didn't take long for him to slide back into your warmth.
#♡.･ signed by yza ✰°｡⋆#♡.･ dearest kuni ✰°｡⋆#♡.･ late night thoughts ✰°｡⋆#scaramouche smut#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x you#scaramouche x y/n#genshin smut#genshin x reader#fem!reader
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