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lightlycareless · 1 day

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Do you think at any point in Naoya’s life that he was ticklish and do you think that as an adult he might still be ticklish? Lately, I’ve been thinking about how if Naoya maybe had one part of his body that was still pretty ticklish that he tries to keep quiet about since he doesn’t wanna embarrass himself until somehow Y/N finds out 🤭

Heya!!

Aww, this was unbearably fluffy cute ngl. Anything that has Naoya acting like an actual, dorkish human is enough to have my heart all ajghajksgha uwu. Hope you enjoy this small thing I wrote!

warnings: fluff. mentions of pregnancy. .....pee I guess. hahahahahaha it's meant to be cute, everyday pregnancy things I swear lmao. a bit of highschool au.

happy reading!!

Ticklish Naoya is one of those things that no one ever saw happening mainly because… well, it’s not like anyone is testing it out to see if it’s true, you know?

No one had it in their minds to approach the heir, place their hands on his sides and tickle him to see if he’d have some kind of reaction.

No one, except that is, you.

It was a silly bet, whether ignited by your curiosity or perhaps your need to be unnecessarily close to him, either way, you’d find yourself in that exact situation one fateful afternoon, under the pretense of wanting to get some hands-on training experience with the only other excellent sorcerer you trusted!

And of course, having a small crush on you as well but yet to confess it, Naoya didn’t deny the opportunity, completely unaware of your ulterior motivations, until it was too late.

“You said you wanted to… test your accuracy?”

“Mmhmm.” You innocently nod. “I’ve been having issues with my aim as of lately, maybe I need to be tested under pressure? No holding back punches if you know what I mean!”

“Are you sure?” Naoya asks, hesitant to pursue this course of action if there was the slightest possibility you were to end up hurt, and worse—by him.

“Yeah! I’m sure.” You insist. “We won’t have to do much, I just wanted to test this out.”

“Alright, then. What do you want me to do?”

“Just… stand there, first—” you say, carefully gently guiding him into position; it’s almost surprising to see him willingly go along with your ideas, for he was often… dismissive of others. Well, he did say he didn’t find you as annoying as the rest, but was that all there is to it? A part of you hopes not.

While your initial purpose was to find out if Naoya was ticklish, you couldn’t help but get a bit sidetracked by the firmness of his muscles underneath your palms, his intoxicating scent you’ve grown to solely associate with him regardless of where you found it, and why not, the height difference that became even clearer now that you were a few mere inches away from him.

All these things, besides others, inevitably made you wonder how it would feel to be embraced by him, held tight against his chest as he rested his head above yours, professing his affection for you as he swore to never let —

“What are you doing, Y/N?” he asks, cutting through your daydreams.

“Oh—Nothing!” You chirp, scrambling to hide the embarrassment of your cheeks by looking away, to no avail of course, because for an equally smitten man like him, he could be nothing but attentive to you, pondering if he’d done something in this short moment of silence to enact that kind of response from you, or more likely… how adorable you looked, his mind quickly assuming this would be your reaction to when he finally kissed you.

Unless this was caused by someone completely different. He held no proof of this short-lived accusation, but his mind was eager to accept this burning jealousy, loathing the notion that you already belonged to—

“Are you ready, Naoya?” It was your turn to distract him, Naoya blinking as you take position before him.

“Ye—Yes. As ready as I’ll… ever be.”

Going back to your initial purpose, you had to be very careful not to show your cards if you wanted things to go as you wanted.

So, you played along, asking him to do the things you wanted in hope of getting his guard down, which worked, Naoya following your lead, down to the smallest details… until it was finally time for the grand finale, the moment you were eagerly waiting for!

After a few rounds of training and acting like you were still unhappy with your results, you’d find yourself in a position where Naoya’s back faced you, in a completely innocent, unsuspected manner that almost had you feeling bad for misusing his trust: but your curiosity proved to be far greater, much stronger, and when the opportunity presented itself…

You tackle him! Hands quickly landing on his sides to tickle and pinch him as much as you could to earn a reaction from him, which you were joyfully granted, much to your enjoyment and surprise.

“No way, Naoya—you’re actually ticklish?!” you’d giggle, continuing your attack as he began to squirm underneath your hold.

“Y/N—what in the—what are you doing?!” Naoya gasps, confused by your abrupt actions—was this part of your plan all along?! Or did someone—did someone pay you to it?! Is this being recorded??! “Stop it, now!!”

But you didn’t, no matter how red his face got or how much he attempted to pull you away, you simply couldn’t, because his reaction was far better than anything you imagined!

“I would’ve never thought!” you continued, enjoying the fluster on his face which you naturally thought cute, or his laughter… things you’ve never seen on him before that just made your infatuation grow even more.

“Enough!” Managing to regain his strength through your attack and embarrassment, Naoya is finally able to take your hands and pull them away from him, moving you before him to place you in the same position as him.

You don’t need anything else to happen to understand the gravity of your miscalculations, to remember there was a reason why everyone urged you to steer away from provoking Naoya, as tempting as that was, because one way or another, you’d always end up paying the price.

Just as he intended to do so now.

“Let’s see if you like that!”

“No—wait, Naoya—!” and so, he pressed his fingers to your sides, erupting a loud laughter from you which you desperately tried to hold back, whether by pressing your lips together or trying to ease his hold on you, but he’s always been much stronger than you; and whatever struggle you put up he quickly squashed, all for the sake of revenge.

Though that desire would disappear soon after upon hearing your sweet laughter for the first time (so close, that is) alongside your warmth and scent that reminded Naoya why he harbored such strong feelings for you in the first place… never wanting this moment to end, not even when you uttered the following.

“Naoya, stop it! Seriously!!” you laughed. “You’re—you’re going to make me pee!!”

And then, whether because you wanted to highlight your urgency, or simply because it felt right to do so, your face turns around, raising your gaze to his and locking on each other’s eyes—

A simple, quick gesture, but more than enough to make everything stop, your laughter, his smirk, his hands…

In favor realizing the “compromising” position your innocent prank had put the two—the closeness, the… the intimacy!

A fact that has you instinctively pushing away from him, face red (and not from laughing too much, not anymore) as you try to push aside these growing feelings of embarrassment, thinking perhaps it was best to walk away now before this situation grew into a bigger misunderstanding!

Well, fortunately for you, the answer would easily present itself when he said the following statement.

“Y/N—Did you—Did you pee yourself?”

“WHAT?!” You shrieked, Naoya flinches.

Of all things he could’ve said, he just had to go with that one.

“Why—why would you even say that?!”

“I mean—you—"

But you didn’t even prove Naoya a moment to explain himself before you were already out of the training grounds, swiftly making your way across the hallways and back to your dorms, where your startled roommate would worriedly ask if everything was ok, why were you so exalted, and weren’t you supposed to be with Naoya?!

“I just did the most embarrassing thing in the world!” you cried as you plummeted on the bed, pulling the cover over your head as you wished the earth would just swallow you whole! “I made a clown out of myself in front of the boy I like, and I will never, ever be able to take that back!!”

“Y/N, surely you’re exaggerating—” she attempts to comfort you.

“No! You don’t get it!” you gasp back. “I’m never showing my face ever again, ever!”

Your roommate simply sighs, taking a seat by your side and patting your back.

“… Oh, he’ll hate me and make fun of me forever. I just know it!”

Unless… fast forward to a few years, you might be proven wrong.

“You know what I just remembered, Y/N?” Naoya says, looking up from whatever report he was going through that evening.

“What?” you murmur, taking another bite of your endless craving—mochi.

“That one time you tried to tickle me, but it backfired so badly, you ended up peeing.” He smirks, your face instantly turns red.

“What?! I didn’t—I didn’t pee!!” you cried. “That’s not—You and I remember that day very differently!”

“Really?” he snickers. “I remember you avoiding me immediately after, can you blame me for thinking so?”

“That’s—I was just embarrassed for being so close to you!! And to make it all worse, you had to say that! Of all things, seriously! Did you actually think I was going to stay around ???” you fret. “I mean… I genuinely thought you were never going to speak to me again after that.”

“You know it would take much more than that for me to stop talking to you.” Naoya says. “Though it’s quite ironic now, isn’t?”

“What is?”

“You tend to do that quite frequently nowadays.”

You blush.

“Only because I’m pregnant, you idiot!!” you frown, smacking him on the arm, Naoya laughs. “Hey, it’s not funny!”

“But it is true, my love.”

“You’re making it sound like I have some severe bladder issues…” you exclaim. “I’m carrying your baby; in case you’ve forgotten!”

“How could I forget I’m having a family with the love of my life?” he says, moving closer to you to take you into his arms, placing his hands over your growing belly.

“Sweet talk isn’t going to save you, Naoya…” you frown, even when angry, your hands still seek his touch.

“Perhaps not, but maybe… chocolate will?”

“…And?”

“And maybe some diapers too—” he jests, you gasp.

“That’s it, you’re sleeping on the couch!”

“I’m just kidding, princess!” He laughs, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Nothing but an innocent joke.”

“Won’t be so innocent if I ignore you for real this time!”

“Then I guess you won’t be eating those chocolate I got you from that place you love…”

“… those from… Kyoto?”

Naoya nods.

And just like that, the whole ordeal was forgotten immediately after.

Until he finds out something else to tease you with, because just as they said, whatever you unleash on Naoya, he’ll unleash on you, tenfold.

relentless naoya is relentless. he's a total tease, about time I wrote it. Also, DAMN I think I've never written y/n being totally smitten by him??? like pinning after him?? it's either her towards geto or him towards y/n. lmao

anyways, i'm still in that fluffy domestic mood, and this was the perfect opportunity to show that. akgasgasjiga I mean, it's cute right??? I like it. y/n being spoiled by naoya........ though he's a bit cruel sometimes.... haha. aw, I love them.

Well, I hope you enjoyed this!! Thank you so much for your patience!! 🥺💖 I really did enjoy writing this, as I always do with all the things y'all send me.

Take care, and hope to see you soon!!!

Edit: omg I never really answered your question, but yesssss I do think he was ticklish. But let's be real, who is going to know that?????? You'd probably come to find that one out when hugging him and sensing him tense up. :) for a variety of reasons. Hehe

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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brucewaynehater101 · 1 day

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They are so big and so cute! And if Huggin and Munnin are well above the average size of ravens they could be nearly the size of Tim's torso. Certainly bigger than his head. Plus they are so, so smart. Some of the smartest birds in the world. Imagine Tim getting in kidnapped as a civilian and Huggin simply grabs the key for him while Munnin acts as a look out. Tim escapes without ever being seen.

Tim also has special "bird doors" in his Nest so the whole place is filled with his many birds. Sure not all of them live there because he set up dozens of safe places around the city that are basically just Reall Big Pigeon Roosts with bird feeders in them that all types of birds are allowed in. Also the bird doors are much to small for any human to fit through, much like dog and cat doors are, and they do have actual sliding metal doors on them that are opened and unlocked by proximity of the little cameras he put on some of his birds. Roughly 4 owls, 8 pigeons, 3 Bluejays, 2 hawks, 17 crows, 9 grackles, and 20 ravens have access to his Nest. Are those a lot of keys just flying around the city? Yes. But no one knows the birds are his, Tim is constantly trying to make smaller and smaller cameras for them so that they will never be spotted, and who the fuck is gunna point to a random bird and go "that bitch has the key to Red Robin's house." And be believed by anyone who would help them catch a fucking pigeon that's just minding their own buisness?business??

The only beings who notice the cameras are other birds and the strange sparkly spot on his birds chest? It only gives his birds more Rizz. There was a study about how Zebra Finches actually preferred to mate with those who had on red tracking tags over other colors so what if this is similar? This would also mean that every spring Tim has an exponentially larger amount of birds.

Also the funniest way for the family to find out. It's one of the very rare sunny days in summer where it's Actually Hot in Gothem so the family decides it's the perfect day to use the pool in the back yard of Wayne Manor. Everyone is having an amazing time and eventually Tim gets tired so he sits down on one of the reclining pool chairs for a rest and snack, which is his chocolate free trail mix. He has a large bowl of it and ends up falling asleep with it in his lap. Just as the siblings are giggling and deciding what prank to play, a crow lands next to Tim and sqwacks a few times. Tim mumbles in his sleep but doesn't move so the bird hops up onto Tim's chair and starts to eat out of his bowl. Since it doesn't get shooed away, soon others are joining it. The family watches in amazement as Tim gets *covered* in birds that are casually eating from his bowl. There's even a pair of hawks that are perched above his head. When the bowl is empty, one of the crows bites Tim on the nose, startling him awake and he glares at the feathery fiend and very gently taps it on the beak as he scolds, "Monroe, I told you to stop biting my nose. Wait- you guys ate all my trail mix!" He has forgotten that his siblings are there because it's usually the birds or siblings, never both.

Oh, and when they eventually ask why he hid the birds, Tim simply says, "last time anyone found out, Janet called an exterminator."

I love this so much. Him building little nests all over the city for them is adorable and great. It would be cool if he started that before his Robin years as he was out and about in Gotham. He just built small little safe places for the birds, and it rapidly expanded as Tim got more experience, more resources, and more birds to look after.

Your logic with the keys is fantastic! When the batfam finds out, I bet birds pop by Tim's place while whatever family member is just chilling. Like maybe they are watching a movie and said bat gets distracted by the coming and goings of various birds (the birds probably also mess a bit with Tim or his space as fond pestering before leaving again). Maybe a few are just staring at the family member without blinking or taking a nap.

I wonder if Damian would start to make excuses to go over to Tim's Nest as much as possible. He states he needs to "ensure Timothy is maintaining adequate nesting conditions for the various species of birds" or that he will "test the Nest's security" by dropping by unannounced and breaking in.

Perhaps some of the birds watch over his various family members for Tim? Especially Duke because nobody else works the day shift with him, and birds are more common during the day (and thus less suspicious).

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #thank you for the ask!!!!#dc au #damian wayne

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things-arent-what-they-seem66 · 16 hours

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Adam Swapped Au Part 3

For making 900+ followers! Thank you everyone! 💖

TW: Mentions of rape

When Adam woke up he felt so well rested, the bed he was in was so comfy he never wanted to leave. Slowly he opened his eyes and frowned.

So it wasn't a dream he was actually still in Hell, very fucking pregnant and the devil's wife apparently.

Fuck him.

Adam groaned as he made his way to the bathroom to clean up for the day, Lucifer was nowhere to be seen and that was just fine with him.

There wasn't much in the way of clothes he could wear, there were a bunch of maternity clothes. Adam grumbled as he pulled on fresh sweat pants and a long shirt (NOT A DRESS) and went downstairs.

Adam furrowed his brow when he could hear voices coming from the lobby. It peaked his interest when he heard his name.

"I hope Adam is okay, maybe some sleep will do him good." Lucifer said as he paced in the lobby. Something was obviously wrong but he couldn't shake the feeling.

Charlie fiddled with her braid. "You don't think that he was, you know?"

The thought had crossed Lucifer's mind that maybe Adam had been kidnapped, raped, and left for dead. But for this long? He wasn't sure, Lucifer had to find out if the baby was his.

After all, they did sleep together before he went missing.

"I don't like to think about it Char. Maybe I'll take him to the doctor's just to make sure everything is okay." Lucifer needed a professional opinion to see what was troubling his husband.

"Don't I get a fucking say in this? I don't want to go to no gay ass hospital with you." Adam growled as he entered the room. He sat down on the couch looking completely pissed off.

Lucifer needed to be delicate, Adams mood swings were not one's to fight with. "We just want to make sure you're okay."

"Of course I'm not fucking okay! That little bitch of a maid you have in the shit hole stabbed me in the back 28 fucking times!!" Adam roared his eyes ablaze, his back throbbed at the memory.

Lucifer and Charlie's eyes went wide. "What!? Nifty did you stab him?" Charlie looked to her little friend who looked very confused.

"I would never stab one of the baddest boys, hehehe."

"Adam, do you remember anything from before you disappeared seven months ago?" Lucifer asked, he came over to sit beside him.

Adam snorted. "I haven't been missing, this is some nightmare joke! You're married to Lilith who has been missing for seven YEARS."

"Lilith." Lucifer spat out her name as if it were poison. "I bet that bitch is behind this."

"I wouldn't put it past heavens commander dad."

It clicked for Adam then, he was in a universe not only married to Lucifer, but him and Lilith have fully switched places in the entire storyline!

Adam felt himself get emotional, why was he crying!? He couldn't stop himself he was full on sobbing now. Adam felt arms wrap around him and he didn't seem to mind, they were actually comforting to him in the moment. "Shhh, it's okay it's not your fault."

For some reason Adam believed it cause what the fuck, this whole situation wasn't his fault he never intended on being an alternate universe version of himself. Especially one that apparently has Lucifer's babies.

They did end up taking Adam to the hospital to get checked out.

It had been super awkward getting a vaginal exam, Adam was sure his face was as red as a tomato. The doctor concluded that there were no signs of sexual assault which everyone was relieved about.

"So we are looking for a paternity test for the baby?" The doctor asked.

"Yes." Lucifer answered, not knowing was killing him. Adam was curious himself.

Doctor nodded and pulled up a needle. "Okay, I'll extract some amniotic fluid to test."

"That's not going where I think it is, is it?" Adam asked, panic setting in. That fucking thing was huge!

"You won't feel a thing your majesty, I swear."

Adam didn't believe him.

It was uncomfortable at best but he still didn't like it. There was a rush out in the results to be tested against Lucifer's DNA.

Adam crossed his legs and groaned, that fucking sucked.

It took an hour for the results to come back. And it was determined that the baby was in fact Lucifer's baby.

The King sighed in relief. One mystery solved.

Part of Adam was even relieved, at least his other self wasn't some slut having the baby of some random John, Dick, or Jerry.

Lucifer would put money on it that the reason for Adam going missing and having no memory, but also memories of a life that never happened on Lilith.

She never could get over letting Adam go. Her and Steve were, ironically, a match made in Hell.

If Lilith and Steve were behind, they would pay for this.

#adamsapple #lucifer x adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #adam swap au #900 followers

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lau219 · 22 hours

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Enemies with Benefits

Part 8

Previous part here

...................................................................................…….

“I said no,” Y/N repeated herself as she and Tommy argued with each other across the bar top.

She was standing behind the bar, taking an inventory of the liquor bottles and prepping the tills in the registers for later that night, and he was standing on the other side, leaning across the bar as they spoke, a cigarette between his fingers.

“You don’t solely get to call the shots anymore, love,” he replied to her. “Now that I own this place, I can make changes if I want.”

“You’re supposed to take into account what I have to say on anything regarding operations,” Y/N.

“Yeah, but this isn’t operations, this is...atmosphere.”

Tommy then took another drag from his cigarette, which was almost burned down to the end, and Y/N’s eyes went to his hand as he raised it to his lips.

“Is that your third or fourth pack today?” she asked sarcastically.

“Fifth,” Tommy replied back, meeting her sarcasm as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and stubbed it out in the ashtray sitting on the bar in front of him.

“You need to cut back on those things,” she said, shaking her head.

Tommy smiled and raised an eyebrow.

“Worried about me, are you, love?” he asked.

She shook her head again.

“Just don’t want you to keel over until after I win our bet,” she answered. “I need you alive long enough to sign this place back over to me.”

Tommy smiled again.

“Whatever you say,” he responded, and then he reached for his pack and pulled out another cigarette, swiftly lighting it.

“Oh my God, stop!” Y/N said, stepping up to the bar and reaching over, pulling it from his mouth where he’d just placed it. “Seriously, you have a problem. You need to find something else to occupy your hands.”

Tommy gave her a wicked grin.

“You wanna help me with that, love?” he said. “Bring your ass over to this side of the bar and those cigarettes will be long forgotten.”

Y/N smirked at him.

“Nice try,” she said, but she couldn’t help but wonder how it’d feel to have his hands on her. There was no doubt in her mind that he knew exactly how to touch a woman.

“Besides,” Y/N continued, still holding the cigarette between her fingers, “the fact that you smell like an ashtray makes the chances of that happening very low.”

“So, the chances are high if I cut back?” he asked with another wicked smile.

“I didn’t say that,” Y/N responded with an amused smile of her own.

“I think that’s exactly what you’re saying,” he insisted, and Y/N rolled her eyes.

Still looking at her, Tommy continued.

“Well, we can’t let that one go to waste,” he said, and he tried to take the cigarette back from her. In response, Y/N stepped back and pulled it out of his reach, bringing it to her own lips instead and taking a drag.

“Such a hypocrite,” Tommy said as he shook his head.

“Hardly,” she replied. “You have a dependence; I indulge occasionally.”

Tommy’s eyes were glued to her as he responded.

“You should indulge more often,” he said lowly.

He didn’t think it was possible for her to get any sexier, but he stood corrected as she seductively brought the cigarette to her lips again and met his eyes. It turned him on just as much as the first time she’d done it that night they’d discussed her working for him. As he watched her lips wrap around the cigarette, his mind immediately went to the thought of those same luscious lips pressed warmly against his, and then eventually wrapping around his cock. But he was pulled out of the thought as Y/N reached for the ashtray between them and stubbed out the cigarette.

She needed the distraction, because the way Tommy was currently looking at her had sent a shiver up her spine, although, admittedly, not in a bad way. Averting her eyes, she spoke as she pushed the ashtray aside.

“My answer is still no,” she said, returning the conversation to what they’d been arguing over. “You’re not installing some ridiculous, over-the-top lighting system in here. That’s not the image I want for this place. This isn’t some tacky, obnoxious dance club with seizure-inducing flashes running nonstop all night.”

“It wouldn’t be tacky, and it will drive up business,” Tommy replied as he looked at her. “It’ll make people dance more. The more they dance, the more they drink. The more they drink, the more money we make.”

“Business is just fine, thank you very much, and I’m not letting you turn my club into some sleazy rave destination.”

“Our club,” Tommy corrected her, holding her eyes.

Surprised by his rephrasing, Y/N paused for a moment, but then she shook her head yet again.

“You need to start getting used to hearing the word ‘no’, Shelby,” she said.

He smirked.

“Maybe you’ll be more inclined to listen to my suggestions about atmosphere after you see your office.”

Y/N scrunched her brow, not understanding.

“What? What do you mean?” She hadn’t been in her office yet that day, having been up front talking to him since she’d arrived earlier that afternoon.

“I may have made a few changes already,” Tommy replied.

Y/N narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“What did you do?” she said, her voice low with accusation.

Tommy smiled at her expression, jerking his head in the direction of her office.

“Come on,” he said.

“What did you do?” Y/N asked again, staying planted in her spot.

Setting his phone down on the counter, Tommy walked down the length of the bar and rounded it, stepping behind the bar and walking up to her. Placing a hand in the small of her back, he nudged her forward, then followed behind her as she reluctantly began to move.

“Only one way to find out,” he said to her, his hand remaining on her back.

Although her mind was mostly focused on preparing herself for whatever he was about to show her, Y/N couldn’t ignore how much she found herself enjoying the feel of his hand on her or the closeness of him behind her. And although she’d told him he smelled like an ashtray, it was actually his cologne that was most prominent – an arousing, masculine scent that invaded her senses and fit him perfectly.

Once they made it to her closed office door, Tommy stepped in front and to the side of her, reaching for the doorknob. As she gave him another suspicious glare, he simply smiled and raised his eyebrows before then turning the knob and pushing open the door.

The room had been completely changed. It was nearly unrecognizable, and Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief as she took it all in.

Her old, heavy, scratched up desk had been replaced with a slimmer polished wood design, behind it which sat a cushy desk chair. On the desk itself, two pretty lamps gave off a warm light to the room and highlighted the brand-new laptop that was sitting on the desktop. The walls had been re-painted a lovely shade, and several new pieces of art had been hung on the walls to join her own pieces she’d already had hung up previously. There was a new wide file cabinet in the back corner that matched the wood of the desk, on top of which sat a vase of fresh flowers and a small TV. Finally, two plush, inviting chairs sat in front of the desk, and her other personal items that had been in the office previously had been arranged back to fit in with the new furniture.

She stood silently in the doorway for several moments, just processing not only the changes, but the fact that Tommy had done this for her. She could feel him watching her, waiting for some kind of reaction, but she was speechless. Finally, he broke the silence.

“What do you think?” he asked her.

Slowly turning towards him, Y/N shook her head.

“It’s...it’s...unbelievable,” she said, her expression still one of shock.

“Good or bad?” Tommy asked, almost looking concerned, worried that she wouldn’t like it.

“Good,” Y/N answered, turning from him and looking around the room again. “I love it. But...” she turned to him once more. “Why did you do this?”

Tommy smiled at her floored expression.

“Because when I looked at the books, I saw that you’ve not done a thing for yourself in eight years. You’ve repeatedly given your employees bonuses, replaced equipment, remodeled and repaired this place, but you’ve done it all while sitting at a desk and using a computer that the Smithsonian has placed bids on for their next exhibit.”

Shaking her head again, she met his eyes.

“We don’t have the money in the budget for this right now,” she said.

“This wasn’t taken out of the budget,” he replied.

Y/N’s eyes widened.

“You paid for this?”

Tommy just smiled again.

“Why?” she asked him again. “Why did you do this?”

“If you’re gonna continue to run this place as well as you have, then you need the right space to do it in.”

“You didn’t have to do this,” Y/N responded. “I mean, it’s too much. It’s...” she looked at him again, repeating herself. “You didn’t have to do this.”

Tommy stepped closer to her.

“Do you like it?” he asked her again for confirmation.

She nodded.

“I love it.”

“Then it’s not too much,” he concluded.

Still looking at him, Y/N took a step closer to him.

“I feel like I need to thank you, but that just doesn’t seem right,” she said, a smile slowly spreading across her face. “You’re not supposed to be anything but awful,” she teased him.

Tommy smiled widely in amusement as he took another step closer to her, their bodies not far apart.

“I’ll forego the spoken words in exchange for a different form of appreciation,” he responded. “My hands still need something to occupy them, anyways.”

“You also still stink,” Y/N replied, a playful smile of her own on her face.

“So, if I didn’t, you’d be thanking me right now?” he asked, both of them knowing exactly what “thanking” meant.

Stepping as close as possible to Tommy without touching him, Y/N reached up and patted his chest through his jacket, tapping his pack of cigarettes that he kept in his interior breast pocket. Their eyes met when they both looked up, and she smiled mischievously.

“I guess you’ll never know,” she said.

———————————————

It was 30 minutes before they were going to open the doors, and Y/N was giving the staff a final rundown of the plan for the evening. Now with Tommy as the new owner, they were treating this night as somewhat of a grand re-opening, and a line outside had already formed to get in.

They’d advertised that the place was under new ownership, and a new drink menu had been created along with new food options. Although they hadn’t settled on Tommy’s idea for the lighting system, they had installed the new sound system that Y/N had already set the money aside for before Tommy had even come into the picture. He’d hired a well-known DJ for the night, and everyone was excited to see how things would go.

“If you see a single ID that looks suspicious, give it to Trevor immediately,” Y/N said as everyone was gathered near the bar. “And if anyone looks or acts like they’ve been overserved, do not give them another drink. Either push some food on them or give them something non-alcoholic, free of charge.”

“Are we still doing the complimentary shots?” one of the bartenders asked.

“Yes, you can,” Y/N replied. “But do it early before people have too many other drinks in them already.”

“Hold that thought, love,” Tommy suddenly spoke up, pushing himself off the bar, which he’d been leaning against. He was there to observe and watch how everyone handled the crowd, and how the changes they’d incorporated would impact the evening.

“What?” Y/N asked as she and everyone else looked over to him.

“What’s with all the complimentary offerings?” Tommy said.

“A borderline drunk will gladly accept a free soft drink over being cut off completely, and that keeps them from getting too rowdy,” she replied.

“And the shots?” he asked.

“It’s something we’ve always done, occasionally giving a free round to people. It keeps them coming back.”

Tilting his head, Tommy held her eyes.

“Can we have a word?” he said.

Y/N looked back at him for a second before directing her attention back to the staff briefly.

“You guys can finish setting up,” she said to them. “We’ll have a final huddle in a few minutes.”

As the staff dispersed, Y/N walked over to Tommy, meeting him against the bar. He looked incredibly handsome in a dark suit jacket and button up, and as his cologne filled her nose again, she was momentarily distracted.

“I don’t want you giving out anything for free,” he said to her as she stopped in front of him.

“Why? What’s the big deal? It’s soda and cheap vodka. It keeps the drunks at bay and makes people come back. It’s not a significant loss.”

“How often are you doing this?” he asked her.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders.

“Often enough to know that it doesn’t impact the bottom line a lot.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Tommy said. “Every penny counts. This isn’t a free-for-all, and now that I’m owner, I don’t want any unnecessary losses.”

“Already throwing that fact around to get what you want, huh?” Y/N said to him with an irritated look.

“It’s simple math, love,” he replied. “And I’m not a fan of subtraction. Or handouts.”

“What do you call what you did to my office, then?” she asked him.

He looked at her seriously.

“Investing in something worthwhile,” he replied.

Y/N paused, her expression softening slightly as she looked back at him for just a second before speaking again.

“Really, it’s not a big deal,” she said. “It’s barely a loss.”

“No,” he said plainly, shaking his head.

“Shelby, you can’t just come in here and start changing the way I do things.”

“As the owner, I can,” he said.

“You’re supposed to take my say into account,” she reminded him.

“I have, love,” he said. “And after consideration, my decision on this stands.”

Y/N released an exasperated breath, deciding that she’d fight him more on this later, when there wasn’t a line at the door.

“Fine, whatever! But this conversation isn’t over,” she said to him. Then she whipped around and walked off to tell everyone that there wouldn’t be anything handed out for free tonight.

As the evening unfolded, they soon discovered that the changes they’d incorporated were a huge success. People were having a great time, and everything was running surprisingly smoothly. Y/N and Tommy didn’t speak again, Y/N too busy darting around to monitor and help anywhere it was needed and stepping in for any problems or hiccups. Tommy would get up occasionally to walk around and observe things from a different angle, but he mostly stayed seated at a table off to the side that he’d claimed earlier, and he and Y/N’s eyes met several times throughout the night as she moved around the place.

It was captivating to watch her. As always, she was in her element, and Tommy smiled to himself as he thought about how confident she’d been when she’d proposed her little bet with him. He had yet to decide when he’d take her on their first date, but as he watched her pretty face light up as she talked and laughed with people and noted how insanely gorgeous she looked in her little black dress, he decided it would be very soon.

After a few hours, things had calmed down slightly, as the staff had gotten into a groove with the new drinks and food, and everything was flowing well. Standing near the edge of the dance floor, Y/N was talking with Elise when, all of a sudden, the lights in the entire place dimmed briefly and the music stopped for just a second. Looking up at the ceiling and then around the room in surprise, Y/N was trying to figure out what was going on when the DJ suddenly began a bass-heavy song and lights began flashing around the room. Once again looking up, Y/N saw that multiple sets of light systems had come down from the ceiling, and as the music and flashing continued, she realized what he’d done.

That bastard had already installed the lights before he’d ever even told her about it.

Immediately, Y/N turned around and set her gaze on where she knew Tommy was sitting. As she found him and their eyes met across the room, he smiled at her and shrugged his shoulders casually.

Narrowing her eyes, Y/N tilted her head and released an offended scoff of disbelief. She glared at him for another moment before making a quick decision and marching over behind the bar. Moving past a few of the bartenders, she grabbed several trays from the back bar and began loading them up with shot glasses. She then handed a liquor bottle to Matt and ordered him to start filling the glasses as she worked on her own tray.

“I thought we weren’t handing out shots,” Matt said as he picked up the tray and passed it to a server to start handing out. He then took the next tray Y/N handed him and filled more shot glasses.

“Plans have changed,” Y/N replied calmly, and she began lining up shot glasses on the bar top and filling them generously.

After several minutes, countless shots had been poured and handed out, and Y/N looked over to Tommy again. He hadn’t noticed what she’d put in motion, and she smiled to herself as she reveled in being about to piss him off. When the server who she’d sent to go talk to the DJ returned, she grabbed the microphone that was kept behind the bar for making announcements, and then she got Matt’s attention.

“Help me up here,” she said to him, slapping the bar top with her hand.

“What?” he said, raising his eyebrows at her.

“Help me up onto the bar, and then get ready to catch me when I jump off in a minute.”

“Are you serious?” he asked her.

“Are you gonna help me, or not?” she replied.

Not responding, Matt instead grabbed Y/N’s hand, helping her step up onto the rail and then pushing her under her butt to hoist her up onto the bar top. Once she was situated and standing, Y/N looked across the room and made eye contact with the DJ, who then slowly faded out the music as he simultaneously flicked a spotlight onto her, the microphone poised near her mouth.

“Hello, everyone! Can I have your attention please?”

Y/N watched as everyone in the room turned to look up at her. She knew Tommy was one of the many sets of eyes that were now on her, but she didn’t look over to him.

“Is everyone having a good time tonight?” Y/N asked the crowd through the microphone. Her question was followed by a plethora of shouts, screams, and whistles of positive confirmation as she began to speak again.

“As some of you may know, I’m the manger here, but as we’ve advertised for this evening, we’re now under new ownership.”

A few more shouts and whistles came from the crowd as she paused, and then she lifted the microphone once more.

“With this new owner comes extreme generosity. In fact, he’s the reason you all have a shot glass in hand right now. This shot comes to you free, compliments of our new owner, and he’s here tonight. What do you say we thank him?”

Once more, Y/N paused as the crowd again released a mix of hollers and whistles. Quickly, she looked down and stretched her hand out to Matt, and he lifted a filled shot glass up to her. After taking it from him, Y/N raised the glass in the air in a toast.

“To our new owner,” she said into the microphone, “his generosity knows no bounds. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Tommy Shelby!”

With that, Y/N stretched out her hand that held the microphone to point across the room to Tommy, and at the same time, the DJ flipped the spotlight onto him. The crowd erupted into applause and screams as they turned to Tommy, who momentarily looked like a deer in headlights. Quickly he recovered, rising from his seat and looking over to the DJ, motioning for him to cut the spotlight as the people in the crowd downed their shots and the music resumed once more.

Watching him, Y/N smirked in triumph as Tommy turned from the DJ and looked up at her from across the room. His jaw was set in a hard line, but Y/N continued to smirk at him as she held his eyes. People from the crowd were already approaching him to talk, which she knew he’d hate just as much as her free handout to them. Lifting her arm once more, she raised her shot glass to him and gave him a cheeky grin before tossing back the contents of her glass. She then looked at him once more before swiftly turning around, looking below for Matt, who caught her in his arms as she jumped down off the bar.

Smiling to herself, Y/N replaced the microphone behind the rail before picking up a clean shot glass and pouring herself another.

He thought he was so clever. Thought he was so slick.

Well, Tommy Shelby had met his match.

@nyxxie-pooh @xsweetcatastrophe @febris-amatoria @allie131313 @natalie--rushman

@beastofburdenxo @aphroditeslover11 @garrison-girl-08 @meister95 @alltoowellbeneaththemangotree

@hannibellector @neonpurplestars89-blog @betty21rose @hudson-bay-girl @fuseburner

@wild-rose-35 @fairytale07 @judig92 @galactict3a @runnning-outof-time

@ceirinen @devotedlyshadowytheorist

#modern tommy shelby #modern tommy shelby x reader #modern tommy fic #modern tommy shelby smut #modern tommy #modern peaky blinders #cillian murphy #cillian x y/n #cillian murphy smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fic #18+ only

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electra-buttercup · 2 days

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Tasteless Engine (2)

Suddenly, the puppet’s eyes flutter open and the doll stares at you.

Flabbergasted, you jump back and stop touching them. The porcelain puppet slowly, weakly sits up with numb arms. All you can do is stare at the living doll with wide eyes, while the mass elevates itself until it stands up before you.

“Who are you…?” the porcelain puppet asks with a low, groggy voice. Definitely a boy.

“I could return you the question! My name is […] and I’m a toy maker.” You reply.

“Good. I have been looking for you.” Says the puppet casually, as if he was not crying on your floor a few minutes ago. He starts walking in your bungalow with his chin raised high, as if he was the owner of this land. His torn clothes barely cover himself, and his joints and articulations creak with every move he makes and you decide to go after him.

“Wait! So, you know me, but what’s your name and how are you… Living?! Aren’t you a puppet?” You ask while walking behind him, in pure confusion.

“That’s none of your business. As for my name, I don’t have one.” Replies the doll boy. “What’s that?” he asks, pointing a book with his hand.

“Just a theater piece. It’s La Comedia Del Arte. You never heard of it?” You reply, taking the book and handing it to him. The nameless puppet takes the book and examinate it carefully.

“Well, just call me Scaramouche then.” He says after reading a few pages.

“Scara?

-Scaramouche” He objects, refusing the nickname. He puts back the book on the self.

“This bungalow is pathetic, but it is not the reason of my visit. I saw the sign near your house saying that you are a toy maker. It kills me to say it but I need your help.” After saying that, Scaramouche takes off the clothe that was hiding his bust. At the place where should be his heart if he was human is a huge hole, the porcelain is fissured and painting is damaged all around the hole and even slightly melted. You stare at it in awe for a few minutes. Never, in your life, you saw a human-puppet with a hole in the chest. Look then up at him in his eyes, which are a bit damaged too.

“… What happened to you?” You ask, shocked.

“None of your business too.” Answers the puppet with a dark face.

Promptly, you put him on your table and observes his features with a lot of caution.

“I never saw a doll this damaged. I’m not sure I’ll be able to fix all of that.

-What about my heart?

-You had a heart?

-Yes. But in an access of rage, I pulled it out of my chest, that’s how the hole… You know…”

You look at him, you can’t help but feel bad for him. Sure, he is not human at all, but it is almost like it, is it not? And mostly, he had a heart. You don’t know how it is possible, but you stopped asking yourself question when a living puppet started to cry before you.

“Sadly, I can do nothing for a heart-broken puppet, asides from repairing the damage, I can’t give you a heart.” You tell him softly, looking at him in the eyes.

“Then I’ll find someone who can.

-No one can. Scaramouche, a heart isn’t a clock! It is not mechanical, you can not buy it, or repair it with a hammer, nails and tools. I can’t do anything for this heart, nor no one can.

-You’re worthless! I should have known it when I crossed your door! I’m leaving, now.” The enraged doll jumps off the table and heads toward the living room.

“If you go outside, you’ll be even more broken!” You protest. “I can fix you! And maybe your heart will grow back! I bet you’re not that stupid…”

After you said that, Scaramouche looks down, lost in thought. Leaving the bungalow would be counterproductive, and after all, maybe those promises you tell him are true. In this case, it is not in his interest to leave. He turns to you.

“Alright, you win, human.

-I have a name.

-Don’t get me started or it’s you who’ll end up broken.

-So you’re staying here?

-Unfortunately.” The puppet rolls his eyes.

#genshin impact #fantasy #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #wanderer #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x you #kunikuzushi x reader #gn reader #fanfiction

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avvail-whumps · 10 months

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‘guns for hire’ — unwanted rescue #34

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content warnings: intimate whumper, conditioned whumpee, whumpee referred to as “kid” but they’re an adult, implied dub-con (not explicit), manhandling, handcuffs, stockholm syndrome

“Steven.”

The detective heard the rage dripping off that voice, but he didn’t bother to take his eyes off the board, even when he noticed the thumping footsteps approaching him from behind. His narrowed eyes were intently flickering over various pinned photos and pieces of important, information filled paper.

Summers’ hand dug into his shoulder, whirling him round with a force that almost had him staggering over his feet. A nasty scowl spread over his face, jerking himself out of her grip.

“Jesus, keep your hands to yourself, why don’t you?” He scoffed.

“We don’t have a warrant for Roy Gatlin’s arrest,” she seethed, her voice dripping with venom. “Why is there a SWAT team being assembled, huh? You don’t have the authority to do this.”

Sharpe folded his arms over his chest, his demeanour much calmer compared to his counterpart. A cheeky smirk even tugged at his lips, but it was gone in a second.

“It ain’t under my authority,” he shrugged. “I got support from the Captain.”

“The—?” Summers cut herself off. She turned, taking a few steps away from him, and inhaled three deep, measured breaths. She fixed her hair, before slowly turning back to him, her anger reigned in. “You’re gonna cost the Captain his job.”

“He’ll be fine.”

“Steven, Leo Whitlock’s case has been closed. He’s gone.”

Steven’s expression hardened inexplicably. A wave of something pungent stirred in his chest at those words. He still had this fiery determination in his gut; he didn’t care what anybody else told him, or the hopelessness of it all. He was going to find Leo.

“I know the kid’s out there,” he sneered, jabbing a finger at the board, where the pictures of potential suspects were strung up. Even though Summers was still working on following leads on each suspect, Sharpe had his reasons as to why he believed it was Roy Gatlin. His gut feeling always punched through. “And I know he had something to do with it.”

“So your answer is to swarm his house with an unauthorised SWAT team? Without a warrant, Steven. Jesus. This is insane.”

The detective reached into his pocket, pulling out another much needed cigerette and lighter. Summers glared at him, waving her hand.

“Don’t you dare. Go smoke outside. You’re giving me enough of a headache as is.”

“I’m positive, Summers,” he murmured, still intent on lighting the end of the stick. Her eyes softened slightly at the quietness in his voice. Her mouth closed, clenching slightly. “I just have a—”

“Gut feeling,” she groaned, rubbing the crease in her brow. “You and your gut feelings. Dammit—”

Her hands dropped in frustration, and she deflated with a defeated sigh. How could she refuse the notorious Detective Steven Sharpe’s gut feeling? There was a reason he was one of the best detectives around. He took a short drag, blowing the smoke to the side.

“I’m still arresting that bastard,” he murmured.

“We don’t have hard enough evidence on him to hold up in a court,” she countered, softer this time, as if desperately clinging onto the hope he might drop it. “Hence, the fact that you don’t have a warrant for his arrest. We can only hold him at the station for forty-eight hours.”

“That’s enough,” he shrugged, confidence spilling into his grin. “Because once we’ve found the kid, his testimony will be hard enough evidence to convict him.”

Summers grimaced. “And what happens if Leo isn’t there? If you storm the house illegally and it’s all for nothing?”

Sharpe pinched the cigerette between his fingers, patting his stomach. “Like I said. Gut feeling.”

There was a tense, almost awkward silence in the air. Summers’ eyes flickered over to the board in their office, lingering on the faces of the suspects. It quickly snapped towards the one of Leo, and a look of remorse flashed in her eyes.

“I’m not keeping this kid waiting for another year,” Sharpe huffed under his breath, and Summers turned to find a look of hardened regret shared in his eyes. “We let him down by waiting so long to do something. Legally or not.”

“Even if he’s there,” she sighed, her arms folded over her chest. “The Captain could still lose his job.”

The detective’s smile lingered for a moment, nodding his head. “That’s a risk he’s willing to take.”

Sharpe watched her expression morph through a multitude of different phases, before she finally scoffed, and waved her hand in dismissal. She shook her jacket off, reaching for a warmer one instead.

“Then fuck it,” she decided, tilting her head in his direction. “You coming or what? Commissioner is going to notice a missing SWAT team soon.”

The detective smirked, nudging her side playfully as he crossed the threshold of his office. He loaded his pistol and clicked it carefully onto the side of his belt, covered by his long coat. Summers did the same, closing the office door behind her.

“I knew there was something I liked about you,” he teased, ignoring her dark glare.

“Watch your mouth.”

They swiftly left the building, bickering quietly amongst themselves about who would be driving. The SWAT team was ready to go at exactly thirty seven minutes past four in the afternoon, loaded up into the police vans, and both the detectives followed closely behind as they made for the secluded house outside the city.

. . .

The shrill ringing of Roy’s phone on his desk suddenly erupted into the room, the obnoxious noise drawing them both from their entanglement in the sheets. Leo’s hips stuttered to a surprised stop, his lips peeling away from Roy’s own as his gaze slid over to the lit up screen. The mercenary did the same, and his lip curved into a somewhat annoyed smile.

“Sorry, lion,” he hummed, the hands on his waist shifting to the bed so he could sit up. The secretary suddenly looked equally annoyed, his bottom lip jutting out slightly. “I’m gonna have to get that.”

“Do you have to?” He murmured softly, his fingers tangling in his hair to play with it. The ringing was still going, but Leo didn’t budge from his lap. “They can wait.”

Roy chuckled lightly under his breath, leaning forward to kiss him teasingly, but not enough to satisfy him. “Get up.”

Leo frowned, but did as he was told. He clambered off his lap and tucked himself under the blanket with a miffed little frown, while Roy languidly slipped some pants on as he stood up, plucking the phone off the desk. His eyes lingered on the screen, and a scoff rose in his throat.

“Joey,” he sighed, answering it with a roll of his eyes, before promptly leaving the room. Leo watched him go intently, his voice fading as the door was closed behind him. He let out a small huff, shifting onto his side so he could slip his arm under the pillow. Roy’s voice was too muffled to make out what he was saying, but that was a good thing. Leo wouldn’t dare eavesdrop, otherwise the mercenary would be angry with him. A good minute must have passed before the man came barging in.

The door hit the wall a little too hard, enough to jolt Leo from his peaceful quietness, a shock of alarm passing through him. The mercenary tossed his phone on the bed, and even though it was subtle, Leo knew something was wrong.

“Roy?” He croaked, alarmed. “What’s going on?”

He answered smoothly. “Cops are coming.”

The statement made his heart sink straight down to the pits of his stomach. He sprang up, holding the blanket close to him.

“What?”

The man dipped down, pulling out his laptop, and switching it on. As he picked up his phone once more and began calling someone, he jerked open his closet and pulled out a plain shirt. He swiftly tossed it towards Leo, who got the message quickly enough. He scrambled to get off the bed, throwing the shirt over him with shaky haste.

“Roy, what do you mean?” He blurted, his wide eyes pinned onto him. The mercenary tapped away at his laptop rapidly, the screen blaring to life with numerous different coded tabs, things that Leo couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

“Lion, wait downstairs for me,” he ordered softly. Leo ground his teeth together, torn between grabbing the man and not letting go, or following his order. After a tough internal battle, he went with the latter. His bare feet padded down the stairs with buckling knees, his eyes frightfully dancing to the windows as he passed them, as if expecting a swarm of flashing police cars to be waiting for them. He bit down anxiously on his thumb as he lingered by the bottom of the stairs, unable to stop himself from pacing.

The idea of the police brought him this horrible, crushing weight of despair on his chest. His mind stirred with the memories of Michael, the fact that he was the one who had got him killed. The thought of what might happen brought horrible, anxiety filled tears to his eyes. When he heard Roy coming down the stairs, he could feel them slipping down his cheeks.

“What’s going on?” He softly whispered, his voice shaking as he scurried behind him, unwilling to leave his side. “Are they really coming? Roy, please, just…”

The man began to descend down the steps to the basement, but Leo’s feet were securely glued in place. He nervously fiddled with the hem of the long, much too large shirt, where even the distinct scent of Roy clinging onto it didn’t seem to ease him right now. The man worked swiftly in clearing out anything he needed. Tools that didn’t seem so supicious were placed in their rightful places, and anything that was disappeared. The chair was slotted under the table, and Roy shut the door with a bang on the way out.

Although he moved with such speed and urgency, he didn’t appear to have a slither of panic on his face. Even when he cupped Leo’s cheeks in his, and pressed a long, comforting kiss to his lips. He pulled away, keeping his warm hands where they were. His thumbs occasionally brushed away any fresh tears, making sure he had Leo’s eyes trapped within his own.

“Listen to me very carefully,” he whispered quietly, and when Leo opened his mouth to speak, the man shushed him. It quickly closed. “There’s some things that I need you to say for me.”

Leo hiccuped, his fingers grasping onto his wrists desperately. “Roy, please, I—”

“I know it’s going to be scary, but they’re going to bother you with questions, lion,” he interrupted, keeping a firm grip on him so he couldn’t squirm away. “Questions that you have to answer very carefully.”

Leo choked on a sob. It felt like the whole world was spinning, like everything he’d worked so hard for was about to come crashing down on top of him with no mercy. He burned the very image of the mercenary’s face into his mind, feeling as though he was going to throw up.

“Please don’t leave me,” he pleaded, frantically shaking his head. “I love you. Please don’t go.”

“I won’t. Not forever,” the mercenary smiled. “As long as you say exactly this.”

Everything that Roy told him, Leo’s mind clung to like it was holy. He wrapped up each and every letter with desperate care, storing it in the front of his mind where it was always waiting. He desperately nodded his head, promising with the utmost sincerity that he would. Because what use was he if he couldn’t do what Roy wanted?

His stomach churned with nauseating pain when he was ushered upstairs and told to lock the bathroom door behind him. Leo wanted nothing more than rip it open and seek out the mercenary, hold him tight and stay as close to his side as he could, but when he heard the thunderous bangs and the terrifying hollering, he couldn’t find the courage to.

It felt like they were vibrating through the very walls, and a cold shock of terror stabbed through his heart. Leo pressed himself tight against the tiled corner of the bathroom, as far away from the door as he could manage, legs curled up to his chest. He tried to pinch his eyes shut and ignore all the booming voices, but it was growing too loud, too suffocating in his own ears.

A sudden pounding erupted on the other side of the door.

Leo yelped, slapping his hands over his mouth. He could see it practically shaking from the impact, the locks splintering with each measured, powerful push.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” he whispered frantically under his breath, fingers fisting in his hair. Each smack matched the heavy beat of his heart. He knew the exact moment the door was smashed open, and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from crying out. The shouting was coming from all over the house; upstairs, downstairs, in the kitchen, above him. Heavy footsteps spilled into the bathroom, and he barely caught a glimpse of the black suited men surging on him.

He could only just make out a few clear voices, saying things like “we found him” or “use force if necessary”, and Leo’s heart dropped to his stomach when he felt a hand clamp on his arm. He was hurled from the corner of the bathroom effortlessly, unable to get his feet under him before a uniformed member was dragging him out of the room.

“No!” Leo screamed, seething through his teeth as he jerked and twisted away from the invading hands on his body. “Let go of me! Get—”

The blood rushed through his head, working himself into dizzying hysterics, no matter how many people he could just barely make out telling him calm down. The evening sun hit his face, but he hadn’t stopped thrashing like an animal for even a second.

The secretary managed to find Roy through the crowd. His arms had been twisted forcefully behind his back, making him grimace, locked with silver cuffs. Two men were flanking him, donned in their black helmets with their eyes covered by a deep visor, and they roughly shoved him forward towards a flashing car.

Leo’s chest felt like it was being ripped in two. He desperately tried clawing his way out of the grip on his arm, tears sliding down his cheeks as they caught him around the waist instead, tugging him in the opposite direction. It was almost painful, the idea of being separated. There was nothing he could do to stop it, no matter how much he screamed and thrashed against them.

There was a grunt, and then a muffled voice caught his ear. “Get the detective.”

Leo watched helplessly as Roy was forced into the police car, a rough hand on the back of his head shoving him in. He just barely caught his eyes as he went, making a horrible feeling punch through his gut. The panic of being torn away from him was too overwhelming, even when a new pair of arms found their way around him.

This time, they followed him to the ground, no longer held up by other hands.

“Hey, hey, kid,” a deep voice murmured, the least stern he’d encountered. “Look at me. Look here.”

Leo shook with pained sobs, but he managed to do as he was told. He found himself staring at the face of a middle aged man, dark hair and beard covering his features. His hands were firm on his shoulders, keeping him grounded as he spoke.

“There you go,” he nodded. “You’re safe now, kid. It’s okay. You’re safe.”

He frantically shook his head. That wasn’t true. He was safer with Roy, and he was being taken away, trying to separate them both. The very thought made it hard to even breathe, his chest constricting painfully. A hand rubbed at his back, easing the wheezy coughs choking in his throat.

“It’s alright,” Sharpe hummed, his eyes catching Summers. She looked relieved, her eyes glossy and a hand on her chest, tightly gripping the fabric there. The detective himself kept the shivering kid close, motioning towards her. “Get him some sweatpants from the boot of the car. And some water, quickly.”

Summers nodded.

Leo’s head fell against the detectives shoulder, screwing his eyes shut. A hand patted at the back of his head, but it wasn’t comforting. It wasn’t Roy.

tag list – @unorganisedalienrubbish @d-cs @rabidrabidme @sordayciega @burningkittypoet @whumpawink @mannerofwhump @suspicious-whumping-egg @welcome-to-the-whumpfest @whatwasmyprevioususername @crilex29 @firefly017 @dutifullykrispyland @wibbly-wobbly-whump @there-will-always-be-blood @anonintrovert @justawhumpjunkie @whumptastic-world @ha-ha-one @whatwhumpcomments @whumpterful-beeeeee @anonymous1235 @sonder35 @unforgiven235 @whumpasaurus101 @mj-or-say10 @professional-idiocy @seaweed-is-cool @theelvishcowgirl @atomicsandwichprince @sunshiline-writes @peasandpotatos @pirefyrelight @enigmawritesstuff

#guns for hire #whump series #whump writing #whumpblr #whump scenario #whump fic #whump community #whump #whumper #whumpee #leo and roy #rescue #caretaker #my writing #writing #don't worry they were just wrestling at the beginning #place your bets on if this is going to end well #:)

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bueris · 6 days

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okay maybe I should seriously reconsider my path in life and sell my soul to marketing or journalism instead

#okay venting in the tags you are very welcome to ignore or not respond to it i just need to yell somewhere #i always thought id be an art therapist because well i care about people and want to help them and love art #but everyday i wake up feeling like a fraud and an imposter so like. should i really be doing all that when im not entirely #certain i cpuld handle it??? like i know i haven't gotten the meaty bit of the education towards that yet but like #university costs a disgusting amount of money here and if i pick the wronf thing im likely doomed forever thanks to awful government #i know things could get better like they did after thatcher but honestly im not putting any bets on it considering how the current labour #party is so like if i fuck up here im basically dead #also can i actually do art uni. like could i cope with that. im deeply unethused with art at the moment and honestly will i evwr be #idk #it was jusr a thing i always did but education around it is fucking soul sucking #also the emotional weight of hearing and solving people's problems as a therapist. i would consider myself quite empathetic for the most #part i feel other people's pain quite strongly and obviously as a therapist id be feeling that quite a bit so could i actually cope with it?#ik therapists have therapists but still #i mean im doing work experience at an occupational therapy place so ill just be extra inquisitive about it all to make sure im going #the way i wanna #I'll be fine by the end of a levels ill probably understand what i want in life #if not then gap year to work it out #should probably look at unis for english language too then #sigh #ucas website i may as well marry you #ill be okay im getting in my head about stuff im actually pretty good at art even if there are things i can improve on (like patience lol)#yeah maybe the voice telling me i suck doesnt know shit and should shut up #yeah #shut it nasty voice you're wrong actually!!! im doing just fine and you're being overly critical #they should make a brain that's your friend and not mush that hides the amalgamation of every bad thing ever in its crevices #crevices shoyild be filled with kindness and love.#sex jokes about that #why the fuck is yahoo mail syncing i dont use you you washed up search engine #bue waffling #vent post

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bluerosefox · 9 months

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Assassin Heir? Crime Fighting Furry? NOPE NO THANK YOU!

"Danyal, its time to end this game and return with me."

Danny should had known Clockwork had something in mind when he sent him on this mission. He knew he should had been suspicious of the time keeper when he noticed the little 'this is going to be fun' smile on his face when he sent Danny off into the portal.

"Get back here you demon spawn 2.0!"

But how was he supposed to know that he'd wake up in this world version of himself in a pit full of corrupted (AND NASTY) ectoplasim at the tender age of five or that when he swam up to the surface he'd be meeting face to face with what was apparently a cult.

"-O just spotted him a block away! I'll try to cut itty bitty bridie off!"

An Assassins Cult his, new to him, loving yet a little insane mother was in charge of (though during the few months he stayed in the compound he heard rumors and gossip from maids and others alike that if his grandfather returned from the dead he'll take over once again, no doubt punish Talia for creating another heir after the failure of the last one, most likely was going to kill Danny and that... that was can of worms Danny didn't wanna deal with yet)

"Ten bucks says they try to stab RR when we get the feral thing home"

"...Losers bet...."

Danny had lived with his mother for a while after being brought back from the 'dead' for apparently the first time, it turned out training a five year old with an actual sword and a dumbass hidden revenge seeking teacher was a terrible idea.

"I swear if this one tries to murder me like the others I'm asking Zatanna if there is a curse on me."

He dealt with her high demands of perfection, the endless training, and the constant comparisons to his apparent older brother Damain... Who didn't know Danny, or rather Danyal existed.

Nor did his father (when Danny, using his powers he's kept hidden since 'waking' up in this Realm, he sneaked his way around the base and discovered how he came into the world. And tbh he couldn't blame his mom how she made him, she was an assassin first and foremost, being naturally pregnant would had painted a target on her for to long... but he also felt it was unfair and an asshole move on his unsuspecting father as well)

"As your elder brother I demand you to stop running!"

Now don't get him wrong, he did like his new mother (total badass assassin lady and all that) and he knew she loved him in her own... deadly way. But yeah, she really shouldn't be taking care of kids. He could tell she struggled with wanting to be a normal mother but her first instinct after so many years was to be an assassin first.

Something she was trying to engrave into Danny with as well.

"Ah, hello Beloved. I see you've learned of our Danyal."

"Talia. Back away from him and leave Gotham now."

"I can not do that. The League needs an heir and since Damian refuses to return... I have decided to create a new one and I shall not be leaving until he returns with me."

"Talia."

Hence why when Danny, or rather Danyal al Ghul had gotten decent control over his powers he decided to leave the League. Again nothing wrong with the life his mom leads, to each their own, but he... really, really didnt want to be an assassin. Or an assassin heir.

So here he was, after almost a year on the run, using his powers and training to out smart and out maneuver his mother and her many band of Assassins, in Gotham. One of the last places he ever wanted to run to cause he knew his father and brother lived here.

It was just his luck that his mother had managed to intercept his train ride that passed into Gotham for a few hours and forced him to run into the city...

Add her assassins into the mix and running into Robin, who heard from Oracle his mother had been spotted chasing a young boy across the city, that same night.

After that it became a full on "catch me if you can" chase for not only his mother but for the batclan as well.

And after two whole days of chase, it seemed like the final showdown was about to begin because everyone was on top of this rooftop, his mother and her assassins on one side, his father and the batclan on the other and Danny well... he was right in the middle of all of it.

He just had to hope no one would notice him once the fighting started...

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #blue rambles #crossover #writing ideas #random idea #danny phantom dc #basicly Danny is sent on a mission by CW #he wakes up in the DC version of himself in the pits after being killed and Talia tossing him in #he was created by Talia since shes head of the LOA now and needs her own heir #but she once again wants Bruce's bloodline in it so she used some leftover dna she still had #so no one knows Danny was created until he left about a year later #danny has his ghost powers since he took a dip in the pits #but had to relearn some control and kept it secret #he knows his mom would see it as 'the pits granted my heir its powers.' mindset #so hes been on the run #and didnt wanna go to Gotham cause... his dad dresses as a gaint bat #and dont get him started on the rest of the batfam #he doesnt wanna be an assassin or a crime fighting furry #in case some people didnt get it. the words being spoken happen when Danny is running all across Gotham away from those after him #guess who said what lol #i want danny to be completely independent and trying to take care of himself tbh #but hes still baby to everyone else #talia is slowy becoming a little unhinged due to being the Demon Head now #maybe due to the stress of it all? or maybe due to a curse? idk

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marycorcaroli · 8 months

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first sex with zoro or sanji?

headcanons ; 18+.

rules ; masterlist.

i had a request for "first sex with zoro" but i decided to add sanji as well, hope no one minds ! english is not my first language, i apologize for the mistakes.

sanji.

— the first time you have sex with sanji is like something tender and beautiful. his long fingers move over your body, sending shivers down your spine, and sanji loves it. he loves that you let him spoil you and not give anyone else the opportunity.

— he'll probably go crazy when he sees you completely naked. he'll spend several minutes looking at all your curves and admiring you.

— sanji will start with endless compliments to warm you up "you're so beautiful", "what did I do to deserve you?", "you're too beautiful for humans", "wow, you're already wet and we're just getting started, do you want my cock so bad?" i already told you he's shameless.

— will leave hickeys all over your body and afterwards, make sure to kiss each one so you don't forget his tender side.

— will lick you for hours before fucking everything out of you.

— just licking you will bring you to euphoric orgasms that make your legs shake, your brain stop functioning and your mouth can't produce anything, but sobs and pleas for more. sanji isn't rough, he wants you to feel all the pleasure possible and realize what it's really like.

— will kiss you while his fingers play with your swollen clit (he still didn't have enough he left you a total mess), his lips bite yours but at the same time he is so gentle and afraid that you won't like something.

— your comfort is important to him so don't be afraid to tell him if you're in pain or if you want him to be more gentle. sanji will do anything for you ! because he loves you to no end and he's afraid to hurt you.

— i bet he gets turned on by kissing you and can't stop.

— sanji will kiss you to hear you moaning into his mouth and sobbing. that way he will know that you like it and you are not afraid anymore.

— i don't think he'll want to hold your wrists, sanji thinks that way he'll completely limit your actions, and he likes it when you touch him ! !

— the first time he has sex, it's the missionary position! it's the best for him where he can look into your eyes and kiss your face ! ! my boy is so perfect.

— his pace is not the fastest, it's medium, it's your first time, even if he likes rough sex, pain, blindfold and restriction, he won't do those things, it's all for your comfort. sanji will be the most loving 🥺 he will start with slow thrusts so you get used to his length and don't feel pain.

— HE HAS SUCH A BIG DICK 😩 i know that for a fact ! ! sanji knows how to handle it and feeling it with his hand on your belly, god is he in heaven????

— will snuggle up to you all the time, most likely your whole neck will be in his drool for he keeps bumping his face into it.

— with your permission, will cum in you so that your cum will be fused into one ( it sounds so weird ) but if you are against it, cum on your stomach is just as good.

— aftercare ! ! will wash you in the cutest way, whispering compliments that make you red as a tomato in your ear while sanji kisses your cheeks <> bring you water, food or turn on your favorite show, watch until you fall asleep at his side, then turn off tv, hug you tight and kiss your temple, thinking about how wonderful you are and that he would do anything for you.

zoro.

— the most beautiful boy in the world ! !

— even if he looks tough, his heart is made of tenderness and love for you.

— he doesn't really need sex with you, you love and support each other, so zoro is more of a platonic relationship.

— but when it comes to sex he wants everything to be perfect. he will spend the whole day with you and show you the most beautiful places he associates with you.

— he will give you the most magnificent kisses that will show all his love for you, his hands will wrap around your whole body and press you tighter against him so that you can feel his heartbeat (it is accelerated because of you).

— he will gently undress you and keep looking at your eyes to make sure you want it.

— he is so happy : ( you trust him so much that you want to be close to him in this way. zoro will give you the most wonderful pleasure ! !

— completely undressing you, running his fingers over your body, over your scars or tattoos, leaving the wettest kisses on them.

— kisses ! ! it's important for zoro to kiss you during sex, so the intimacy between you increases.

— he will lick you till the last to make you ready for him. he has such an experienced tongue and your cunnie is so sweet, he can't hold back anymore 😩 he will bring you to squirt and then start working his fingers to see the show again.

— his pleasure is not so important to him, yours is much more important and he will do anything for it.

— he'll leave your clit swollen and kiss it in the most tender way <> and he won't mind leaving hickeys on your thighs and biting them a little. zoro is crazy about your thighs ! !

— before entering you he will say the most beautiful words of love to you "thank you for trusting me, i will do everything to make you feel great, i promise i will love you till my last breath and after that".

— like sanji, zoro's ideal position is missionary, where he can see all your emotions and can kiss your whole face.

— his pace is very smooth, he does not like sudden movements or too rough sex, he is a real romantic.

— sex with him will be long and pleasant, he is in no hurry and wants to remember this moment forever, which they will do.

— he doesn't care where to cum, he doesn't really want to make a mess, but if you ask him to, he will cum on your thighs or in you (he dreams about it).

— he will change your sheets and wash with you, telling you how good you are for him. he will bring you water or food and then fall asleep on your breasts while your fingers massage his head.

#one piece live action #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #zoro roronoa #zoro x reader #zoro smut #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji smut #sanji #zoro #taz skylar x reader #taz skylar #mackenyu #mary ♡

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chuluoyi · 2 months

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only if you are up for a challenge. Naoya Zenin x f!reader in which he got her pregnant, then she left out of fear and he found her again and won't let her go :)))

when you loved me

- zen'in naoya x reader

you loved him... but you have had enough of the shit you've experienced—his arrogance, horrible family and another woman—and decided to leave him for the sake of yourself and your child

genre: angst to comfort, implied cheating, most likely ooc, honestly i almost made it a vs naoya fic with no consolation, happy ending aka naoya is decent

note: this ask... has been collecting dust in my askbox for about SIX MONTHS HAHAH, so sorry anon. i'll just leave it here and let it burn however just bc i don’t want to delete what i’ve written :’)

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

"How... how could you?"

Once, you thought, you were in love with Zen'in Naoya.

Well, you couldn't deny that he had personality flaws, but deep down, at one point in your life, you still believed that he too loved you.

You stared at him through tears brimming in your eyes, and he was just there, looking at the little being in your arms with a mix of shock and... something else you couldn't name. Dismay? Disappointment? Black rage?

"Go away, Naoya," you declared through your gritted teeth, pulling the baby in your arms even closer to you, as though fearing he might do something drastic. No way in hell would you let him after what he made you go through.

His eyes twitched as he tried to hold himself back from losing it. He took a few deep breathes in order to stay composed.

“Y/N, answer me,” he growled, still with the same condescending tone you remembered nine months ago, when you resolutely decided to leave him. “Is that baby mine?”

This was absolute madness. You had driven him insane. Naoya was certain he would go feral on you after you boldly left him without a trace, and when he found you, you were cradling this baby in your arms—which he was absolutely sure, enough to bet on his life, that the little thing was also his.

The woman he loves has given birth to his child.

You had imagined all sort of scenarios in which this very event would occur. This was one of them actually.

“No,�� you firmly replied, gaze hardening. “Not yours. So kindly let yourself out of my house, Naoya.”

“Absolute bullshit!” he shouted and you flinched. His sudden rise of voice also woke the poor baby in your arms.

His heart hammered inside his chest. There were many things that made a mess of his head. You running away from him. The nights of madness he went through, wondering where you were and if you were alright. And now, the fact you had his baby without him ever knowing.

“Where were you? Why did you leave— you were having my—”

Fuck, he didn’t even know if he had a son or daughter.

You tried to console your child, now tears also streaming down your cheeks too. But it was more of frustration and anger rather than fear. “Can you blame me? Zen’in Naoya, you have made my life hell!”

“Hell?” It felt like an total insult to his pride. “How—!”

“You!” you screamed at his face. “I’ve had enough of your shit! And not to mention your father—that horrible drunkard who always looks down on me and treats me as if I were some gold digger! And also the whole of your goddamn, entitled clan—they always harass me right in front of my face!”

All of this stunned him on this place. Truth to be told, he knew a little to nothing at all about what his kin had done to you.

“I don’t need your family’s wealth! I can live on my own just fine even with your bastard!” Your tirade still hadn’t ended, but you had to put your baby on her cot first and dismiss her ever growing cries because you were tired of all of this. This life. This absolute nightmare that was caused by one fatal mistake of falling in love with Zen’in Naoya.

“But what the fuck? You’re asking why I left? How dare you ask me that after what you did!”

“What did I even do?!” His denial made a blood vessel about to burst inside your brain. “You never fucking told me what my father did! If only you did, I would have—”

“Look, you don’t even acknowledge it!” You were so tired of this. You wished you could die and just end all of this mental suffering. Why did this have to happen to you out of a billion people out there?

And yet, still, ultimately, you were happy with him. Those memories of the two of you together, just idyllically spending time together, or sometimes even playfully clashing opinions— to you, they were irreplaceable.

So, that's why...

Your heart shattered at the screeching cries of your baby. But you had to slam this in Naoya’s face.

“That was the last straw—seeing you with that fucking woman, you insufferable, demented, cheating bastard!”

That string of profanities you screamed at his face made Naoya finally lost it, as he gripped you tightly and his eyes flared with pure white-hot anger. “Say that again—say that again, you—!”

A toe-curling scream ripped out of your baby and you wrenched yourself out of his grasp through sheer will. Naoya was left reeling as he watched your horrified expression, as you plucked the baby into your arms again.

“Shh, shh,” you shushed your child amidst your own quivering lips. “Mama is here… Don’t cry…”

Right at that moment, it was as if something had pierced his chest and left a gaping hole. He really had a living baby. That baby was crying because of him.

The sting of the anger was still there, but now guilt started to overpower it as he regained his cool somewhat. “Is that a—” his breath hitched. He had to know. At the very, very least he had to know.

You didn’t immediately answer. You were still absolutely heartbroken by how it all turned out. But above all else, you could no longer deny him of his own child.

“A girl,” you sniffled.

A daughter. A daughter— in the one split second after knowing that, Naoya made the quickest decision of his life.

“Come back. Live with me,” he said, resolute. “You’re the mother of my child—I won’t let anyone lay their hand on you again. You have my word.”

Women are pain in the ass. That was what he used to think. Until you. Not when it's you. It astounded even himself how the sight of you like this was enough to drive knives into his chest.

“Look, that’s not it,” your tears were now falling free and fast, unable to hold it back longer. “How can you ask me that—when you went behind my back with another woman? Naoya, I love you—loved you. But isn’t this too cruel? How can you do this to me?”

“What woman are you talking about?” He tried to compose himself, but your accusation of him with someone whose existence he didn’t even know was getting in his nerves. “I have never been unfaithful to you! I know we don't always agree to things, but do you really think that low of me?”

“Evidently, I saw you with her. Your father made it a point that she’s your next plaything—or possibly even, fiancée!”

There was a memory that sprung into his head when you mentioned that. He recalled that vain, stupid woman, and he definitely remembered telling his father that he refused her. It wasn’t long before you disappeared.

Now everything clicked.

“Listen to me,” Naoya started, jaw clenching. “Whatever my father told you—those are all lies. I turned her down right there and then. I wouldn’t do that to you. You know that. You should have known that.”

Sobs wrecked your body and soul at this point. You knew where your place was. Zen’in Naoya was a man outside your league, his family made it so clear to you that you were nothing but dirt in their eyes. And perhaps that was why, back then, you chose to protect yourself and left him, believing he was capable of that too.

And now before you, you could see the man you loved once again.

“Come back to me.” His gaze burned you. “This time, for sure, I won’t let anyone touch you— I won’t let them even say a word about you! I will marry you, and we will raise our daughter together.”

“I… I don’t want to live there, Naoya…” you sobbed. You hated that place. Like hell would you have your pride stomped and deceived again.

“Alright, if that’s what you want. We won’t live there. You won’t have to see any of their faces again.”

Gazing into your face, marked by trails of tears, he finally, finally felt his heart break. And he thought, that in front of him now was the only woman who could upturn his whole trajectory.

“Just… come back. To me. I will take care of you. I swear it.”

#zenin naoya x reader #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk angst #zen'in naoya x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #zenin naoya #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk fic #jjk naoya #jjk x reader angst #jjk x reader fluff #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

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mushies-stories · 2 months

Text

Drinking- how TF141 handles a clingy drunk reader for the first time

PART ONE- Price and Soap

PART TWO- Ghost and Gaz

F!Reader

Warnings: drunk reader, little tiny bit suggestive... think that's it?

John Price

The first time he saw you drunk was when you had called him to pick you up from a night out with the girls. You had planned on just taking an Uber home but the more you drank the more you wanted John. so you called him and asked sweetly if he would come get you, telling you just needed to see him.

“Please John… i jus’really need to… to see you.” you whine over the phone.

John doesn’t mind in the slightest. Your slurred words and the pout in your tone made him rush to leave his flat.

When he found you he couldn't help but mirror the grin that had blossomed on your own face when you saw him. He wastes no time in striding over to you, quick to place a hand around your hip and help support your body as you hug him. Your arms loose around his neck.

“Missed you s’much.” you mumbled into his neck.

He chuckles and pats your hair. “That so love? Well I missed ya too.” he tells you. “S’about time I bring ya home, yeah?” he strokes your hair and kisses the top of your head before leading you to his car.

Back home you don't even have time to get your fingers on the door handle before John is there and swooping you off your feet, caringing you inside with no complaint for you, only drunkenly happy giggles and little kicks of your feet.

The whole car ride you looked at him and talked about how much you just wanted to be in his arms. You can't wait to be laying in bed wrapped up and warm with your perfect man.

He brought you back to his flat and to his bed. Setting you down at the end gently and with another little kiss to the top of your head. “Just a moment, sweet girl.” he says and leaves the room. He comes back with a glass of water and instructs you to drink some. His hands rub your back and shoulders gently, soothing you and making you hum softly.

Picked out one of his shirts for you to sleep in and helped you change. chuckling when you almost fall back onto the bed when he slips your pants off. “Almost done love, don't fall asleep just yet.” he tells you with a loving smile.

When he finally got you dressed and everything situated for bed you were grasping for him the moment his knees the mattress. He barely had time to turn the bedside lamp off before you were leaning into his side and gripping his shirt.

“Alright sweet girl, c’mere.” John pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you with a kiss to the crown of your head.

You sigh happily against him and let your body relax, sinking into his. “Love you s’much John.” you mumble before letting his warmth soothe you into unconsciousness.

John fell asleep with a small smile. Your heartbeat eases him into sleep. “Love ya to dove, my lovely girl.” with one more kiss placed on your hair he lets sleep take him.

John 'Soap' MacTavish

You had gone out with Johnny one night to a bar he liked. He wanted to teach you how to play pool and show off at darts.

It was when Johnny says something about taking it slow after you stumble over your own foot. Blaming the alcohol and your little tolerance, Soap joked that you already had too much.

Of course in retaliation, you wanted to prove him wrong by ‘out drinking him’. Needless to say, it did not go as planned and you certainly did not win your bet.

In no time you were a giggling mess, trying to play pool but missing every shot and when Johnny came up behind you to keep you balanced you couldn't help leaning into him.

“Johnnyyy, I love you so much.” you slur up at him with a cheeky, drunken smile.

He chuckles at your drunken state. “That so? Well I love ye too Binnie.” he says and kisses the top of your head. “How’s’bout we get on home?” he offers, already steering you towards the exit.

Johnny doesn’t live too far from the pub, meaning you had walked there but… Johnny has to carry your drunk ass back.

He was being a stubborn tease at first, just helping you wobble along the sidewalk and shaky legs. After some whining and adorably drunk pouty faces, he gives in and lets you climb onto his back.

While he teased you at first about being such a lightweight, he had to admit that you were rather adorable and really, clingy so that made up for your lack of drinking skills.

The whole way home you kissed his neck, peppering little kisses and nips along the exposed skin. “Dove, keep doing that and I'll be hard all night.” he chuckles. The grip he has on your thighs tightens a little in warning.

You giggle and lick a long strip up the side of his neck. “Maybe that's what I want Johnny, want you hard all ni-Ah!” you're cut off with a yelp when Johnny hoists you up with a little jump.

“Watch it shrimp, yer way too drunk to handle any of tha tonight.” he scolded softly.

You pout like a wounded puppy but concede, it was never going to be a winning battle, you were very drunk after all. But that doesn't mean you can't nuzzle into his back and feel his huge muscles right?

The rest of the walk was peaceful, you kept your hands to yourself, or rather his large arms. Back home he helped you get ready for bed, brushing your teeth, taking your makeup off and making sure you drank some water.

He found you his softest t-shirt for you to sleep in. but wouldn't give you any shorts or pants, insisting you wouldn't need them since he was warm enough for the both of you.

You fell asleep with him holding you close, your back to his chest. He kissed your shoulder before nuzzling into the crook of your neck, to which you sigh happily about. “Night Johnny, love you.” your words are slow and in a blink your breathing steady and fast asleep.

“Love ye too dove.” he smiles to himself, noting how you fell asleep so fast even though not even 30 minutes ago you were pawing at him.

#ghost x reader #gaz x reader #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #john price #price x reader #john price x reader #john mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 #task force 141 #cod #cod x reader #cod imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #tf141 imagine

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kquil · 4 months

Text

JAMES POTTER | LIKE LOVERS DO

REQUEST : hiiiii :) if/when u can, smith like this with james or remus lupin? @bobs-fav-cat

(art is by gyung_studio on instagram)

SUM : you and James Potter are just friends —friends that act like they’re in a loving relationship.

TAGS. : modern au ; muggle au ; idiots in love ; james loves giving you princess treatment ; and you love returning his affections ; just friends being friends ; hehehe~ ; they’re in denial ; domestic fluff ; selfcare session ; biker james? ; james being a sweetheart ; reader being absolute wifey material! ; james and reader being so in love it’s sickening ; the type of sickening that makes you puke rainbows, glitter and love hearts ; mutual pinning! ; slightly based off a tiktok i saw once ; happy ending where they get together ; so much fluff ; scheming gremlin friends ; lily, dorcas and marlene as cupids for reader ; remus, sirius and peter as cupids for james ; idiots in love

LENGTH : 3.6k

“They should wear a sign,” Peter laughs as he and his close friends eye the pair of oblivious idiots across the room, “one that says ‘we’re actually together no matter how much we deny it’,”

“You said it,” Sirius raises a hand and the two high-five each other before sniggering between themselves.

Across the hall stood you and James. It was a networking event disguised as a formal company party. And even though you and James weren’t each other’s dates to the event, James wore a matching tie to your chosen dress. The two of you unanimously decided to go with the excuse that you had both gone shopping for an outfit together and unconsciously bought matching things. It was only natural because you two were such good, close friends.

From a distance, the three watch as you lift your left foot up through the high side-slit of your dress and draw attention to your unbuckled heel with a frown. James’ hazel eyes focuses onto your heel as well and immediately places his flute of champagne on a nearby table to help you, as if it was second nature to him; it is second nature to him— taking care of you. He’s kneeling down and re-buckling your heel for you as your hand tentatively places itself on his broad shoulder for balance.

Once James is finished, he stands back up with a grin, takes up his flute with one hand and wraps his other around your waist to pull you into his side with a smile. Neither of you flinch at the closeness, in fact, you snuggle further into your best friend’s side and tuck your head under his chin so he can place a kiss onto the crown of your head.

“Wanna bet on who folds first?” Remus speaks up with a devious smirk, Sirius and Peter eagerly voicing their predictions and placing their bets.

“Oh Jamie!” you gasp and smile widely as your best friend presents you with a beautiful bouquet of flowers, “They’re beautiful,” he helps the floral arrangement into your arms with a satisfied grin, a fondness in his eyes as he watches you savour the scent of the pretty blossoms.

“My pleasure, my dear,” he regales dramatically as you giggle, “I passed by the florist on my way back from lunch at the pub with the boys and thought you’d like them,”

“I do like them,” you lean forward and kiss him on the cheek, “you’re so thoughtful, thank you for thinking of me, James,”

His warm smile softens further and he kisses your temple lovingly, “of course,” aside from the lingering scent of your shampoo and conditioner, James picks up on something more appetising, “what’s that delicious smell, angel?”

“Oh!” reminded of your earlier activities, you lead him into your kitchen where you proceed to find a vase for the arrangement in your arms, “I was baking—”

“Treacle tart!” James cheers and does a goofy little dance in the middle of your kitchen, his excitement obvious.

“It’s almost done so you popped in at just the right time,” you giggle softly whilst transferring the arrangement into your chosen vase. With a pleased hum, James presses up behind you and places his large hands on the curve of your hips, his thumbs tenderly stroking up and down until he eventually pushes the hem of your shirt up, caressing your soft skin beneath.

“Mmmmm… lucky me,” he whispers happily into your shoulder, where he begins trailing kisses up your neck. His words send a shiver up your spine and you resist the escalating urge to turn in his arms and lead his lips to cover and press against your own.

You’re just friends. Nothing more, nothing less.

James can’t get over how cute you are.

Even when you’re doing the most mundane things, he can’t help but find you adorable. Like right now. Even with a bright green clay mask on your face, you are adorable, perched on his lap with your knees on either side of his thighs as you spread the same treen mask over his skin.

“Stop moving, Jamie!” you chastise gently whilst stifling a giggle.

“You stop moving,” he counters playfully and emphasises his words by placing his big hands on your hips and squeezing your curves briefly. Your only response is to laugh and do your best to continue applying an even coat onto his face.

“….there!” you huff and set aside your tool to close the clay mask tub, “all done, no thanks to you!” He tickles your sides in retaliation as you climb off his lap and reach for your phone in order to set a timer. His antics were a brief distraction as you bless him with your tinkling giggles.

“For how long do we keep this on?”

“15 minutes,”

He pulls a face, one that makes him look like a duck as he ponders over his thoughts. He looks so ridiculous, especially with the green mask on his face — it was only naturally for you to burst out laughing, “what should we do until then?”

“Stop talking,”

“Wha—?!”

“Not like that, Jamie,” you coo as he pouts dramatically, “we have to stop talking soon or else the mask will crack too much as it dries,” he makes a long noise of realisation at your words and nods obediently, zipping his lips before throwing away the imaginary key.

No matter what he does, he’s always making you laugh. You’re sure that, even if you’re temporarily banning him from speaking, he would still be able to make you laugh and your clay mask will end up looking like a dried up riverbed.

You have no complaints, though.

You weren’t expecting it but you still weren’t too surprised when you see James waiting for you outside — just in time to pick you up after a night out with your close girl friends. He was wearing one of your favourite sweaters of all time, it was soft and big (big enough to make him appear deceivingly smaller than you know his figure is) and is the warmest thing you’ve ever worn.

“James!” you call out, happy to see him. The build up of fatigue from the whole night melts off your aching limbs like powdered snow under golden sunbeams. Running to him, he greets you with his heart-stopping smiles.

“You look beautiful,” he whispers as soon as he has his arms wrapped around you.

“Stop it,” you sigh into his shoulder, your face buried into the soft fabric of his sweater, “I look a mess after tonight,”

He pulls away, enough to meet your eyes and examine your face without having to remove his arms from around you, “If this is you looking a ‘mess’, then I wonder what type of beauty you were earlier tonight,”

His comment makes your heart soar but you don’t let it show on your face, even when he wiggles his eyebrows comically to emphasise his flattering remark. Instead, you narrow your eyes at him before slipping out of his arms and biting your lip at the confused, pitiful whine he lets out. You don’t leave him miserable for long, however, as you’re quickly reaching down to lift up his sweater so that you could pull it over your head and burrow yourself inside. Like the living furnace he is, you’re greeted by such a comforting heat, you forget that you’re both still outside in the wet cold of the night.

Throwing his head back, James laughs and wraps you up in his arms again, laying his cheek against the top of your head through his sweater. The first time you ever did this, he wasn’t shy about saying how much he loved it. And now, you’ve made it a tradition to do this often during the autumn and winter months. Admittedly, you loved cuddling him like this too; it’s more intimate and you love being surrounded by his warmth. It was a bonus that his scent literally has you in a choke hold under there. You’d happily suffocate on the smell of his cologne, laundry detergent and natural smell. But it also feels as though you’re falling into a trance by some alluringly scented spirit.

“As much as I love holding you like this, dear, I’m still on a mission to get you home safe so…” he looks down at you, hazel eyes turning soft at the adorable sight of you cuddled up to him under his sweater, “can my princess please let me help her into my car and drive her back home safely?”

You didn’t respond, only pouted and whined to express your dislike of pulling away from him as well as the warmth of his soft sweater. James knew instantly what to do. You two were best friends after all; it was a requirement for him to know all your needs telepathically. It was an awkward shuffling of limbs but James managed to slip off his sweater without needing to lift it off your figure and hoists you into his arms before you could start grumbling at the loss of his embrace.

“Not long now — my princess will arrive at her carriage soon~” he sings in a whisper beside your ear, smiling fondly at your soft giggles and adoring the way you wrap your arms around his neck to cuddle him close before needing to pull away so he can carefully sit in his car’s passenger seat.

“Oh, come on!” Marlene gives an exasperated sigh as you examine the array of snacks laid out before you. In your peripheral, you observe how Lily doesn’t make any moves to stop Marlene from pestering you; instead a small smirk tugs at the corners of her lips, secretly enjoying and wanting to take part in Marlene’s badgering.

“You come on,” you throw back with a light-hearted glare, “I thought we were going to buy snacks for movie night, not grill me on my friendship with James,”

“Friends, huh?” Dorcas arches a brow as Lily stifles a giggle beside her. All three were eyeing you mischievously as a heat flushes across your cheeks.

“Stop it you guys,”

“We’ll stop as soon as you stop playing the friendship game with James!” Lily bargains, unable to hold herself back anymore, and you try your hardest not to roll your eyes while your cheeks flood with a familiar warmth.

“We’re just friends,” it was a painful admission but you’d rather have what you have right now with James than ever risk sabotaging it.

Marlene examines a strand of her golden hair as Lily leans against her side, “James acts more of a boyfriend to you than just a friend,”

Dorcas speaks up with a hint of impishness, “and I can prove it~”

“How?” you challenge, raising your chin ever so slightly in silent provocation. But Dorcas has no reaction, she just continues to smirk at you.

“I’m gonna need your phone first,” you hesitate from the devilish sparkle in her eyes but eventually relent, cursing the weakness that was a result of your aching heart. Dorcas types away on your phone for a moment as Marlene and Lily peer over her shoulder and snicker at what they read. She doesn’t allow you to read the message she typed out before hitting send and handing your phone back

It takes a moment for you to get over your shock and look through the message she sent. It was sent straight to James, lovingly named as ‘My Idiot ❤️’ in your contacts, and it read: ‘James, this scary looking guy keeps following me around in the shop and it’s creeping me out! I can’t find the girls either 😰 what do I do?’. Your jaw drops and you can’t find any words to voice whatever it is you’re feeling; a mix of anger, upset, shock and creeping curiosity over what they have planned.

Not a minute goes by and your phone is getting rapid notifications from James messaging you, he even tries to call you but the girls snatch your phone away before you could answer. They shake their heads at you and you huff, crossing your arms. You would have protested more from the rising anxiety you feel over having to lie to James but you were so curious. In the end, you reluctantly accept their plotting and try to prepare yourself for what’s to come.

For a minute, the message notifications stop from your phone and Lily feels her phone buzz from inside her bag. The three giggle as Lily rushes to take out her phone. From the side lines, you continue observing everything with your heart pounding rapidly in your chest. Lily types back a response and all three look up at you in unison, their eyes swimming with mischief.

“I’m setting a stopwatch to see how long just-friend-Potter gets here,” Marlene snickers and you groan, Dorcas and Lily giggling on either side of her. As much as you love them, they’re such a nuisance sometimes…

You could only guess that Lily sent him her location and now all of you were left patiently waiting for James to appear.

Not even 15 minutes passes before James comes storming into view, tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in all black and without his glasses. Even without his glasses on, when James glances over and catches a glimpse of you, recognition crosses his unfriendly features and he storms over. Within seconds, he’s pulling you into a warm embrace.

“Oh thank god,” he breathes a sigh of relief and presses his face into your hair, “you’re okay… —are you okay?” you look up as he pulls away and searches for your eyes, squinting to be able to do so without the aid of his glasses.

“Y-yeah, I’m alright. The umm, the creep disappeared a little while ago,” you muster a small smile of reassurance, still uncomfortable with lying to him, before managing to softly ask your burning question, “why aren’t you wearing your glasses?” habitually, you feel about for the breast pocket of the leather jacket he has on and pull out his circular specs.

As you carefully clean his lenses on your shirt, he goes to explain, “I wanted to look scary so that creep leaves you alone,” you’re quick to realise that without his glasses he would be forced to squint so that it looks like he’s glaring. It also clicks in your head that he wore all black so he could look even more intimidating. It was unusual for him to wear just black, normally that was Sirius’ thing, but you’re not complaining; James looks really attractive dressed in black, his hair tousled around messily and without his glasses on.

“Thank you, Jamie,” he grins boyishly after you put his glasses back on for him, taking a moment to adjust them until they sit aligned and comfortable. By habit, you comb your fingers through his untamed hair and James, in turn, presses a kiss to your temple.

“I’m just glad you’re okay, princess,” your heart skips a beat at the nickname — he’s called you that so many times but he’s reserved it especially for you and it makes you feel so special, “do you want me to give you a ride home?” he lifts up the motorbike helmet in his hand, which you immediately recognise. Your curious eyes meet his hazel hues and he smiles bashfully, “I borrowed Sirius’ bike to get here quicker…” he shuffles around his feet, nervous under your gaze —he hate lying to you too, “okay okay… I took his bike without asking but I promise to give it back as soon as I get you home safe!”

You give a small giggle and wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face into his muscular chest. It’s an embrace that James eagerly returns, petting your hair whilst speaking over your head once he finally spots your three friends.

“Are you guys okay too?”

“Gee, thanks for the concern, Potter,” Marlene rolls her eyes as Lily and Dorcas crack up, “yeah, we’re good,”

“Good, good,” James immediately goes back to focus on holding you close and kissing the crown of your head, affectionate and sweet. You could always rely on him to be there for you no matter what and the thought made butterflies explode into a fluttering haze in your stomach.

Dorcas had proven her point.

It was clear now that James prioritised you over anyone else. And you didn’t know whether to be flustered and scream for joy or melt into a puddle of goo.

“She’s not my girlfriend so shut up,” James huffs and groans as he rolls over to lay on his stomach across the length of the sofa whilst Remus, Sirius and Peter sat in a scattered array about the living room.

“Says the motorbike thief,” Sirius hisses playfully, shooting a superficial glare at his long time best friend/non-blood-related brother.

“She really does act like your girlfriend more than your friend, Prongs,” Remus chimes up, setting his book aside as Peter offers him several cubes of chocolate.

“I don’t get why you two don’t just date each other,” it was Peter who speaks up this time and James can’t help but roll his eyes that even Peter was on his ass about this.

“That’s right! You don’t get it!” they wait for him to continue with a ‘so’ before demanding something but James just presses his burning hot face into a cushion and has a silent tantrum.

“I’ll prove you wrong!” Sirius claims boldly and when James looks over, his biker friend was rapidly typing away at his phone, “I’ll give it around 20 minutes until she gets here,”

James raises a brow, “Who?”

“Your not-girlfriend, of course!”

“What did you say?” Remus asks what they were all wanting the answer to.

“Oh nothing~ just that Jamesie-kins over here is really upset over something but doesn’t want to tell us why so we don’t know what to do to help him feel better,” Sirius fakes a pout and watery eyes as James gapes at him, horrified.

“HOW IS THAT GONNA PROVE ANYTHING?!”

“If she gets here in 20 minutes then that means she prioritises your hurt feelings over going to her favourite over-priced restaurant with Pandora,” James’ eyes nearly bulge out.

“That’s today?!”

Sirius’ devious smirk was answer enough.

“I say 10 minutes!” Peter bets.

“15!” Remus adds on.

Remus wins the bet when you get there 14 minutes after Sirius’ text message was sent. Your arms are piled up high with James’ favorite junk food snacks, ranging from sweet to savoury. Over your shoulders, you wear your fluffiest blanket (James’ favourite) as a cape and rush forward to drape it over him. No time was wasted as you silently move around their shared flat at lightening speed, putting on the TV and switching to his favourite, comfort show, laying out his snacks on the coffee table and putting the kettle on before snuggling down under the blanket with him. It was a tight fit for the two of you on the sofa but neither of you minded; you were both cuddle bugs and enjoyed the closeness.

“Get out, you three! Leave Jamie and I alone!” you speak for the first time to shoo the three boys away. They happily oblige, Remus smirking as Sirius and Peter cough up their betted amounts and close the living room door behind them.

For a long moment, you merely stay there, your arms wrapped around James’ shoulders, one hand lovingly petting his hair as your other presses his face into your chest. James wasn’t shy about voicing how this was his most comforting position for cuddles and it made his heart race that you had cancelled your long awaited plans just to console him.

“What’s wrong Jamie?” you finally ask, voice soft and slow with patience, “Sirius told me you weren’t feeling so well… but you’re not ill? Are you?” he feels you press the back of your hand against his forehead to check his temperature as he finally locks his strong arms around your midsection and pulls you even closer, “No you’re not, thank goodness,” he falls in love with the relief he hears in your voice. He loves falling in love with you over and over again; it’s so easy, “what can I do to help?”

He doesn’t know why he held back for so long. It was all so clear now. The fact that your eyes sparkled around him the way his did when he looked at you was so unbelieved before, he kinda just voluntarily blinded himself. But now, it was like he was seeing colours for the first time. James just can’t believe it took Sirius, of all people, to make him realise it. What a joke… he almost wants to laugh. But he can’t, not when his heart was ready to beat out of his chest for you.

“Jamie?”

“…a kiss…” it was a whisper but you heard him so clearly. And he knows because he heard your breath hitch.

“—what?”

“I want a kiss…to feel better,”

Not wanting to raise your hopes, you press a kiss to his forehead and your heart deafens your ears as it beats loudly against your eardrums.

“A proper kiss,” he raises his head and pulls up to level his lips with yours, his hazel eyes melting your gaze, “like lovers do,”

You’ve waited so long for this moment that you couldn’t even fathom that it was actually happening and your entire world slowed to a standstill. It wasn’t until James had pressed his full lips against yours that you felt your senses come to life with so much intensity that you felt like you wanted to faint. But you wouldn’t dare miss your first kiss for anything.

Like lovers do, you kissed. Like lovers do, you embraced. Like lovers do, you whispered sweet words, a life long promise, to one another, “I love you,”

A/N : this started off as a timestamp that i sneakily wrote this request into (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ i didn’t know how to conclude it at first but i just kept writing and writing and now it’s finished haha! i hope you darlings enjoy the read! and i would also like to humbly tag my beloved moot @diputy for reasons she understands on a deep level (⸝⸝⸝• ω •⸝⸝⸝) ♡

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gamermattsgf · 3 months

Text

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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thef1diary · 3 months

Text

Little Big Fan | Eight

— Little Big Allergy

Series Masterlist

wc: 3.6k

Note: I am not a medical professional, so please let me know if something is incorrect

"Don't you dare think about cancelling, you are going on that date," your best friend's voice rang out of your phone on speaker while you were choosing a dress for tonight.

You turned to look at the phone, as if your best friend was standing there, "I'm not going to cancel, I just don't know what to wear," you responded, placing another dress against your body but frowning.

"Wear that one sexy red dress you have, who knows, you might just get laid tonight."

You shuffled through your closet, finding the red dress in the back, which was expected since you didn't wear it in a long time. You held it out in front of you, "don't you think it's too revealing for the first date? Maybe I could wear this next time."

It was a backless, short garment with two straps. While the back was revealing, so was the front, which featured two cutouts around the hips and exposed a bit of cleavage due to the lack of material.

Your friend hummed, "so we're planning a second date as well huh?" You could basically hear her smirk on the other end. "Well I hope this date goes well," you reasoned, but the jittery feeling didn't go away.

"You and Max are already good friends who happen to flirt occasionally, what could go wrong?" Then after a short pause, she added, "actually no, don't answer that. Try your blue dress, I bet he'd like to see you in blue."

After almost every interaction you've had with Max, starting from the grocery store, you've told your friend everything. Which is why when she suggested wearing blue, you weren't opposed to it.

Putting your red dress back in the closet for another time, which was hopefully soon, you held a navy blue dress in your hand, examining it before holding it up against your body.

While this one, like the red dress, had two straps holding it together, it was longer, reaching a few inches past your knees and including a little slit down the side for convenience.

"Alright, this is the one," you stated and continued conversing with your friend while you changed and began doing your makeup.

"So Bella is at Tyler's?" She asked, making you nod before realizing that she couldn't see you. "Yeah, she'll be there for the weekend."

"Oh how fun!" You could hear the sarcasm in her voice and chuckled, "it's fine, she should be spending time with her dad."

"The same one who called her overdramatic? Did you seriously have to have a kid with a guy like him?" This was a conversation you've had with her many times, and you would always reply with the same answer, "we were young and immature, but Isabella is the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"She truly is, which makes me glad that she turned out like you more than him." You chuckled, "oh trust me, I am glad about that too. It would've been a nightmare if I had to see a little version of him all the time."

"So, speaking of Isabella, how are you going to tell her that you are dating someone who happens to be her favourite person in her favourite sport?"

You groaned, "I don't know, I really don't know. I can't stop thinking about it, because of what Tyler told me," you explained. "Are you still believing his words? Actually scratch that, why are you letting your ex determine your future relationship?"

"God, why do you have to ask such questions," you muttered, taking a moment to think about your response.

"I don't want to believe him, I have a feeling something else happened that day which he didn't tell me about. Plus he's not only my ex, he's the father of my child. I don't think of him as anything more than that."

"Honestly that asshole shouldn't even be considered the father of such a beautiful little girl," your friend stated, and you couldn't help but agree with her.

"Anyways, let's not talk about him, I don't want to ruin my mood before the night even starts," you comment, with your friend humming in agreement.

"You're right, let's talk about Max!" She exclaimed, making you chuckle. That's whom you ended up talking about for the remainder of the time you were getting ready.

Even though she knew all the details right from day one, she wanted another whole story time of how you and Max met, leading up to when he asked you out. Instead of opposing to repeat the story, which you don't even know how many times you've told her by now, you happily told her all the details as if it was the first time.

A few minutes after you ended the phone call with your best friend, your phone rang again which you initially thought was a call from Max. However, it was a call from an unknown number.

You answered the call, and you were met with a woman's panicking voice on the other end, "is this Isabella's mother?"

"Yes, who is this?" You asked first, calming down the inner voices that instantly thought about the worse possible scenario involving your daughter.

"I'm Emma, I don't know if you know me but I am actually at the hospital, with Isabella." You tightened your grasp on the phone, as it was close to slipping away from your hands at Emma's words.

"What happened and which hospital are you at?" You instantly began moving around your house, finding your car keys as you waited for a response.

Emma told you the address as you were leaving through the front door. "She had a severe allergic reaction, and I thought it would be best to bring her to the hospital. I am sorry for disturbing you, I wasn't able to get in touch with Tyler."

You took a deep breath in, knowing that it was bound to happen someday, even though you would rather not have it happen at all. "I'm on my way, should be there in ten minutes. Thank you for letting me know."

It would've been pointless to argue with her, especially since she was the one who informed you of the situation at hand and had the decency to take your daughter to the hospital.

You rushed into the hospital within eight minutes, a record time for you, and you might've broken a few speeding laws but it was for a good reason. It didn't take too long finding Isabella, considering she was in the ER, with a frantic woman standing nearby, whom you assumed was Emma.

As soon as she spotted you, her first words to you was another apology, "I am so, so sorry, I had no idea she had a peanut allergy." That led you towards one question, well more than one but you started off with just one, "what happened?"

She sighed, before telling you how she spent the entire day with Isabella. "One of my friends came by and dropped off some baked goods, I swear I had no idea that it had peanuts in it."

You reasoned that if you calmed her down, it would calm you down as well, because the increasing dread in your thoughts would not benefit you in any situation. You put your hands on her shoulders, "I'm not blaming you for it, you didn't know."

You looked at the doors leading to the ER, "how bad was it?" Emma hesitated before muttering words that made your heart ache, "really bad, she started swelling up everywhere and then passed out."

You tried to sit down, but the need to know her well-being caused you to walk back and forth in the hallway. Your phone buzzed in your hand, and you were about to ignore it until you recalled something really important.

"Shit!" Max was calling. Of course he was, after all he was expecting you to be home and ready for a date tonight.

"Hey, I'm standing at your front door, are you home or?" He started and awkwardly chuckled, causing you to shut your eyes, imagining how the night was expected to go. He was probably holding a bouquet of flowers, looking like an idiot standing by the door because you weren't home.

"Max, I'm so sorry, I'm actually at the hospital." There was no reason to lie, but even after telling the truth, you didn't feel any less guilty.

"What happened? Are you okay? Is Isabella okay?" His response was quick, and slightly surprising but you've known Max long enough that his kindness wasn't as shocking anymore.

"It's Isabella, allergic reaction," you briefly described, and heard some shuffling around on the other end before he asked for the address. "You don't have to come," you told him as you normally did, but he didn't agree again, saying "I want to."

You didn't argue with him, as your heart warmed at the fact that Max wanted to see Isabella himself, and stay right by your side until she was completely fine.

Quickly telling him the address as you noticed a doctor walking towards you and Emma, you hung up the call. "Which one of you is the patient's guardian?"

You stepped forward, "I'm her mother, how is she?"

"It was an anaphylactic allergic reaction, however everything is under control. We've administered epinephrine but we will be moving her to the ICU for a few hours just for observation purposes in case the symptoms are back."

You let out a sigh in relief, as did Emma. "Thank you," you nodded towards the doctor. Once they left, you sat down, the anxiousness leaving your body.

Looking at Emma, who was standing against the wall in front of you, you had another question brewing in your mind. "Where was Tyler when all this happened?" You asked, remembering that she called you only because she couldn't reach him.

"He said he had an emergency meeting come up," Emma spoke her words carefully, earning raised eyebrows from you. "He left you alone with my daughter?" You had to confirm the words you were hearing and scoffed once she nodded.

"It's not your responsibility to take of my child, it's his. You're not her guardian nor babysitter, you shouldn't have to do that." Emma shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal, "it's not the first time."

"How dare he?" You muttered under your breath before standing up and stepping closer to her. "We both have epipens for situations like this, and I am assuming that since you didn't know about her allergy, Tyler didn't tell you about the epipen either?”

Emma shook her head, "no, he didn't."

His lack of attention, led Isabella right to this moment. If he had told Emma about your daughter's allergy, or even what to do when she has allergic reaction, neither of you would be this worried about her health.

Emma, having realizing the depth of the situation, sighed, "I haven't been able to get a hold of him and if it weren't for Isabella constantly talking about you and telling me your phone number to the point where I had it memorized, I wouldn't have known what to do in this situation."

You pitied the woman standing in front of you, especially as you also knew that it was not her fault. You cracked a smile, "she talks about me huh?"

"Oh yeah, she considers you the best mother in the world, and based on her stories, I agree with her."

Then, you heard Max calling your name, walking towards you in a rush. He instantly wrapped an arm around your waist as if it was an instinct, "is she okay?"

Emma stepped away, picking up her phone for another useless attempt of calling her boyfriend.

You wrapped both arms around Max, bringing him in a hug, "yeah, she's okay."

Once he pulled back, he cradled your face with his palms, "are you okay?" You smiled, and your eyes filled with unshed tears because of his question. "Much better now."

Then, Max noticed your outfit which happened to be the dress you were supposed to wear on your date. "Wow," he breathed, his gaze unwavering, taking you in.

He was also dressed up, wearing a suit with a bow tie, and you couldn't help but reach up to touch it, "cute," you commented, making him raise his brows.

"Cute?" He repeated with a questioning tone. You nodded, biting your bottom lip to prevent a smile. "Cute and handsome."

"You are beautiful," he replied, watching as you avert your eyes because his gaze was intense.

"Oh, Max, this is Emma," you decided to introduce them, and added, "she's the one who brought Isabella here."

Max raised an eyebrow in question, "I thought Isabella was with Tyler?" He asked, directed at you more than Emma.

"Well, he wasn't home when this happened, only Emma and Isabella," you stated, and Max gauged your emotions for a moment, quickly recognizing the underlying rage you had directed at your ex. Max knew you'd be discussing this later, in the safety of your own house, so he didn't ask you to elaborate.

A nurse came by, "Isabella is now conscious, and asking for her parents," they stated, along with the room number.

Emma looked at you and Max with a fond smile, before turning towards you, "I think I should get going now that you're here."

A genuine smile graced your lips, "thank you, Emma, for bringing her here and for staying with her even without him."

"Of course, she's the cutest little girl and I'm glad to get to know her." Both of you stood still for a moment, debating on whether or not you should hug her. Then, without thinking twice you initiated a hug that was easily welcomed by her.

You waited till she left your sights before looking at Max, "let's go?" You held out your hand but he shrugged, "she's asking for her parents, you should go."

You stepped forward and grabbed his hand, "you're coming with me," you decided for him. Although Max didn't pull away, he asked, "what if she doesn't want to see me?"

"Trust me, she'll be happy to see you," you convinced him and walked towards the room she was admitted in while holding each other's hand.

When you entered, Isabella's smile widened once she spotted you and Max. "Mama, Maxy!" She cheered, though quieter than usual.

A nurse stood by her side, monitoring her health and checking the IV drip inserted into your daughter's arm.

"Oh my angel, how are you?" You dropped Max's hand and walked closer to her, lightly kissing her forehead. Instead of a verbal response, she formed a thumbs up with her hand.

Then she looked at the door again, "is daddy coming too?" Isabella asked, sounding hopeful. You shook your head, "no sweetheart, daddy is not coming."

Instead of the usual deflated mood, she shrugged, "it's okay, Maxy's here." She held her arms around asking for a hug, only flinching for a moment since she forgot about the drip connected to her arm.

Max quickly stepped forward, bending over to hug her. "All good, Bella?" He asked, once he felt her arms wrap around him tighter. She nodded for a moment then shook her head against him, "it hurts," she whispered.

He brought his hand up to ruffle her hair before pulling away, "you are a very brave girl."

"Really?" She asked, and scooted over a little so Max could sit beside her. He nodded, "of course! Very brave."

She beamed, snuggling closer to him before looking at you. "Mama, come here," she patted the other side, and surprisingly the three of you were able to fit on the very small hospital bed.

A nurse was constantly in the room, checking in on Isabella's health from time to time and since there weren't any repeated symptoms of an allergic reaction, the three of you were out of the hospital in a few hours.

Max followed you in his car, and carried your sleeping daughter inside the house. Instead of taking her straight to her bedroom, he laid her down on the couch in case she wakes up and needs her mother.

It was safe to say that you were not going too far away from her any time soon.

You were in the kitchen, filling up a glass of water when he returned. He stood behind you, with his hands trailing down your sides before resting on your waist, and his chin on your shoulder. "Did I tell you how stunning you look?"

You hummed, "maybe a few times but I don't mind hearing it again."

He turned you around in his grasp, "well, you look breathtakingly beautiful."

You blushed, "you and your compliments," you chuckled. "What's wrong with it?" He asked, but you shook your head, "nothing, it's just I'll never get bored of hearing it."

He smiled, "good, because you'll be hearing at least one every day."

You tilted your head to the side, "every day? Are you sure you won't run out?" He shook his head, "not unless you keep finding ways to make me speechless."

Both of you remained in that position for a moment but then you frowned, "I'm sorry,"

"For what?" He tilted your chin up as soon as you averted your gaze away from him. "We weren't able to go on the date."

Max let out a sound in protest, "I'm pretty sure your daughter's health matters so much more than our date night. Plus the night isn't over," he added with a smile, confusing you even further.

"What does that mean?" He parted away from you and it quickly made you miss the warmth that his body provided you. "Why don't you go change into something comfortable," he suggested, almost pushing you out of the kitchen.

You weren't opposed to the idea, so you went upstairs to change after checking on your daughter. You found the most comfortable pair of sweatpants and a shirt, and removed your makeup as well.

Walking back downstairs, you saw Max waiting at the bottom of the stairs for you. He had removed his blazer and bow tie, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt as well.

He held out his hand, waiting for your hand to hold his, and although you were confused, you wouldn't pass up an opportunity to hold his hand.

"It's not much, definitely not up to first date standards but we'll manage," he commented as he led you to the kitchen table where he had prepared two packets of instant noodles.

"I haven't been on a date in forever so anything you do will set my standards." You smiled when you noticed the lit candle.

"Well, then I will raise your standards next time by taking you out on a proper date." He held the chair out for you, waiting for you to sit before rounding the table and sitting down himself.

It took two minutes before Max moved his own chair right next to yours because he didn't want to sit on the opposite side. You chuckled at his antics but it was much appreciated.

"What's on your mind?" he asked once he saw you visibly thinking. You shrugged, "I don't think we should be discussing these thoughts on a first date."

"This is far from what a first date should be like, so there are no rules. I know you want to talk about what happened at the hospital," he prompted and he was spot on, so you agreed.

"I can't believe he actually left Isabella under Emma's supervision. Not that there is anything wrong with her, but it's not her responsibility!" Max nodded in agreement, "where was he?"

"In a fucking meeting," you exasperated, eating another forkful of the noodles. "It must've been very stressful for Emma," you sighed, finishing your short rant because you truly had no words for your ex's irresponsible behaviour.

Still, Max listened to every word. Once you were finished eating, he turned your chair towards him. "We can agree on the fact that he is an incompetent father."

"Yeah, I don't even know what would've happened if Emma wasn't there either. He surely wouldn't have left Bella alone right?"

Max shrugged, "hey, stop worrying about what could've happened. Bella's safe, she's okay." He placed a palm on your cheek, rubbing his thumb back and forth in a soothing motion.

You nodded, "you're right." Making eye contact with him, you were quickly lost in his gaze. While it almost made you want to look away, you couldn't.

"You know," you started, wanting to divert away from the current topic. He hummed, urging you to go on.

"I don't really care for an extravagant date, all I really need is you. I'm happy with this, with us." He smiled, to the point where you could notice the creases forming at the corners.

"I'm happy with us too, but I will be taking you out on an extravagant date because you deserve it, as well as much more."

You rolled your eyes playfully, knowing that it would be hard to convince Max otherwise, but you could think of a few ways to try when the time comes.

"Thank you for being here with me," you added, needing him to know about your appreciation. Your words also hinted at all the moments he shared with you, and Isabella.

He seemed to understand your hint, "I'm glad to be here with you, both of you."

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