#motorcycle expert reader

[britany1997]

Let’s Motor

I genuinely wasn’t expecting the response to Rev Your Engines that I got, I was feeling very insecure about my writing when I posted it and I’m crying that y’all loved it so much😭 (read part one here)

I’ve also decided on subsequent fics to indicate when I won’t be writing any more parts, so this will be the final part to this series:) hope y’all love it!

Pre-read by my motorcycle expert adopted brother @pixielostboy 🥰

Poly! Lost boys x GN motor expert reader

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You rolled out from under your 1953 Buick wildcat, smearing your hand across your face as you attempted to wipe it clean of oil.

When you’d finished your shift for the night, your boss was kind enough to let you use the shop’s tools to fix up your own ride.

The tune ups were going well, but you still took your Harley to work instead, hopeful you’d run into the strange group of rockers from a few days ago.

You checked your watch and sighed. Lately you’d tended to drag your feet, just in case the biker boys did drop by, but after days of waiting, you’d finally decided they weren’t coming.

That is until you heard the familiar mumbling of four motors pulling up behind you. You chuckled to yourself as you pulled a bandana from your back pocket to wipe your brow and turned around.

Your face fell as you realized the sight in front of you was not the four weirdos you were hoping to meet again, but another group of leather clad bikers.

You sighed and turned back to pack up your things.

“Expectin’ someone?”

You whipped your head around to lock eyes with a smirking Paul, leaning against a broken down truck one of your coworkers had been fixing up.

“Hello again,” you raised an eyebrow as you wiped down your tools, “where ya been?”

“Been busy sugar,” he explained, “didn’t mean we didn’t wanna come.”

Your lips turned up against your will as you shrugged in reply, “maybe I wanted to see you guys too.”

Paul’s face lit up at your words.

“Why didn’t I hear your bike pull up?” you asked.

“Got one of those silent mufflers, bike don’t make a sound,” he told you.

Your brow furrowed in confusion. Silent mufflers? “What?”

“Kidding babe, just didn’t wanna move the bikes from the boardwalk, I uh walked over.”

You scoffed, “isn’t it like a five mile walk?”

Paul rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “yeah I uh, I walk fast.”

You snorted, “whatever Paulie, you want a ride back on my bike?”

“Yes please,” he sing-songed as he practically skipped over to your side.

You mounted your Harley before Paul slid in behind you. “Hold on tight yeah?” you told him.

“Don’t gotta tell me twice sugar,” he said as his arms slid around your middle. He squeezed your sides gently causing you to flinch.

“Maybe not that tight,” you laughed.

Paul moved his hands to rest on your hips as you nudged up your kickstand with your heel before reving your engine and taking off down the road.

The short drive to the boardwalk gave Paul’s hands many opportunities to wander from your hips, but luckily for him you didn’t mind too much.

You parked your bike to the side of Max’s video as both you and Paul slid off and walked toward the three other boys loitering near the pier.

“Well, well, well,” David smirked as he took a drag, “just couldn’t stay away could ya?”

You scoffed in mock offense, “excuse me, but this one,” you jerked your thumb towards Paul, “tracked me down at work for you idiots.”

David threw his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out, “maybe we needed you to fix up one of our bikes again.”

You snorted, “they look fine to me.”

Dwayne rolled his eyes, “sorry about him, we really did just want to see you.”

You blushed as your gaze fell to the gorgeous brunette man’s shoes, “I kinda wanted to see you guys again too.”

“Wanna race?” Marko blurted out, bouncing on his heels in excitement.

Your head snapped up, “race? Race where?” you asked.

“Hudson’s bluff,” David spoke up, “you know it?”

“Yeah I know it,” you paused for a second, “what does the winner get?”

“A kiss from you,” Paul said smirking, as he leaned an elbow on your shoulder.

You rolled your shoulder, causing his elbow to slide right off you, “and what do I get if I win?” you asked.

“Four kisses,” Paul winked.

You rolled your eyes, “if I win I want…” you trailed off as you thought to yourself.

A lightbulb went off in your head, “I want that,” you decided as you pointed at David’s long black trenchcoat.

David’s jaw dropped, not usually one to be caught off guard, “…you want my coat?”

He regained his senses, “absolutely not, no.”

You pouted in mock sympathy, “scared you’re gonna lose Davey?”

He scoffed, “never.”

You shrugged, “then you’ve got nothing to worry about right?”

David bit his lip and weighed his options. There were four of them and only one of you. How could one little human beat four vicious vampires? You didn’t stand a chance.

David smirked and stuck out his hand, “deal.”

You smiled as you shook his hand, “alright then.”

It didn’t take the five of you long to clamor onto your bikes and line up parallel to each other.

“You’re going down,” Marko whispered from the left of you as Dwayne counted down.

You smirked, “we’ll see.”

As soon as Dwayne bellowed “go,” you were off.

You whipped through the beach, kicking up sand as you rode and making a mental note to clean your wheels later. Paul and David had an early lead, with you and Marko not far behind.

Dwayne trailed behind the four of you, but you suspected it wasn’t for lack of ability but more to teach David a lesson. Either way, you appreciated it.

As you turned off into the forest you pulled past Paul, flicking a wave in his direction as you left him in the dust. You smiled as you heard a soft gasp behind you from the shocked blond boy.

You leaned forward, your brow furrowing as you accelerated until you were neck and neck with David.

“Give up? You could still keep your coat,” you taunted him, keeping your eyes trained on the road.

“Not on your life.” he spit through gritted teeth.

“Suit yourself,” you replied as you pushed forward on the throttle, weaving in front of David and pulling up at the edge of the cliff.

David pulled to a stop in disbelief, “you…how did you…” he sputtered as he tried to make sense of what had just happened.

You smiled, “increased the size of my rear sprocket by two teeth awhile back, helps the bike accelerate quicker,” you explained.

“Why didn’t you say anything babe?” Paul inquired as he parked next to the two of you.

You shrugged, “you never asked,”

“Pretty smart if you ask me,” Marko admitted as he joined as well, “I woulda done that too.”

“Looks like you’ve got a jacket to hand over huh David?” Dwayne teased as he came around to David’s side, playing with the hem of the coat.

David’s face flushed red as he realized. He moved to take the coat off when you stopped him, placing a hand on his.

“No need,” you assured him, “the look on your face is a good enough prize for me.”

David grumbled as the other boys dissolved into fits of laughter.

“You’re a good time babe,” Paul nudged you with his elbow, “we live just down there if you’d like to come in for a drink,” he offered smoothly as the others exchanged knowing glances.

“Sure,” you smiled, “I could go for a drink.”

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[rosedom]

AHH UR SO RIGHT, fucking him over his bike, his pride and joy, while he gasps and moans while blubbering on how good u make him, how good it is.

AHHH him in leather too, he'd look so fine with a leather jacket bro omfg (≧▽≦) the way he'd tremble when you'd bite his neck, marking him up all from his neck to his shoulders as he tries to he quiet, embarrassed that he's feeling this good with you railing him over his precious bike

Maybe he's known as the "bad boy," the complete opposite of you,, and nobody would expect the two of you to even speak to each other,, but here the two of you are, both of you pretty much trembling from overstimulation and how good you're both feeling aahdbsksbdjs

It's such a good idea omfg ahdhshdbs ur brain is so good it's amazing

-pera

"in an open match, 【 pera 】 has invited WRIOTHESLEY to play . . . dress for the slide

✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!male!reader, sub!ftm!wriothesley, modern au, sex against a motorcycle, vaginal fingering, PIV sex, dirty talk + teasing + lowk praise, lighthearted bickering (mid- and post-coitus), slight breeding kink, creaming, creampie, alluded aftercare .

A/N : i know it technically wasn't an invitation, but . . ye<3 + fun references of dad!wrio with sigewinne <33

"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."

Wriothesley is not an arrogant, prideful man. He is humble; he tips generously at restaurants, holds the door open for anybody coming up behind him, greets people—you especially—with a kind smile. 

The scars marring his body, the thick leather of his jacket and pants, the spikes and chains worn like jewelry, accessories—it’s intimidating, sure, but on him, it’s hardly such. 

Little children—they bound up to him, pulled as if by a magnet. It’s adorable, it’s endearing; and Wriothesley takes it all in stride, smiling that toothy grin of his and giving lollipops and candies from God-knows-where. (He’s got a pocket in his jacket just for sweets.

It’s why he always smells like sugar, beneath his frosty cologne.)

And speaking of children... Wriothesley is so good with ‘em. He holds custody over small Sigewinne, for crying out loud! She’s quite popular in school, too; while she's certainly a ball of sunshine on her own, her father certainly seals the deal for her—especially when he drops her off and picks her up in that hot ride of his:

a goddamn motorcycle. 

Now, you’re not exactly an expert in the things: all you know is that it looks badass, and it makes Wriothesley all the more ruggedly handsome to you. 

And, well.

It just so happens that, now, you’ve got this ruggedly handsome, sugar-frosted man all for the taking, spread out across the seat of that damn bike. He’s got his usual get-up on for when he rides—leather jacket, torn jeans, simple tee—, his hair a mussed up mess from where he took off his helmet. The helmet is resting precariously on the back seat, a support for Wriothesley’s body as you kiss him silly.

“Hah—wait, wait,” he’s pushing you back, breathless, his leather, fingerless gloves accentuating his fingertips, the short, bitten nails of his. His cheeks are tinged pink, and he looks good enough to eat—to devour. 

You hum, tip your head to the side to nonverbally ask, What’s up? but Wriothesley’s twisting around just-so, just enough to grab his helmet. He passes it off to you—with, to your delight, shaking hands—, and asks, “Can you put this on the ground?” You raise a brow, taking it anyway to do as he asks, and he continues, sheepish. “I—ah, I don’t want it to fall.”

You laugh, then, corralling back up to him once the helmet’s safely deposited on the grass (and not the pavement, thank you. You’re not a monster, letting something as sexy and sleek as that helmet risk getting scratched up). 

“Oh?” You lean back in, making like you’re about to kiss him again—kiss him proper, now, without worrying about the precarious balance of his beloved helmet—, but you dip down at the last second to press hot, searing kisses across his throat. “Why would it fall?” you continue, chuckling at the soft whimper that falls past his lips. “Unless you’re thinking about something naughty.”

He goes silent; the motorcycle rocks, just a little.

You pay it no mind, though. “Dirty, dirty boy,” you coo instead, lapping at the heavy thrum of his pulse. He groans, strong, leather-bound hands coming to wrap themselves around your biceps, yet he makes no other noise besides the quiet sounds of each exhale. 

Soon enough—because it seems Wriothesley truly is intent on keeping it zipped—, your mouth has landed on the softest, most tender part of his neck. You hone in on it like you’re some type of mosquito blood-sucker, lips wrapping around his skin and sucking, suckling, working your tongue over it until it blooms a pretty shade of purple.

You tire quick, though, of the lack of vocal reply from your lover. “You can’t tell me you haven’t fantasized about this already,” you murmur, suckling a new mark opposite of the first one you’ve set prominently, “about me, about me fucking you jus’ like this...” You slide your hands up from his side to cup his jaw, thumbing at the subtle stubble as he looks up at you with such icy-blue irises. 

You don't expect Wriothesley to nod. “I do,” he adds on, to really fluster you. 

“I—ah?” You hiccup, pause, bite at the side of his neck mere inches above your first mark. “Gimme the deets.” 

(It’s fun, to be immature like this.) 

He huffs above you, gentle laughter shaking you from where you suckle bruise after bruise after bruise, leaving him looking like he got mauled by a bear, or whatever. (Your possessive heart soars at seeing your claim spread across his skin, where even his jacket collar can't cover. 

Everybody will know he's yours.) 

“Stop talkin’ like that,” he grumbles—the effect lost by the way he laughs—, “you sound like a teenager.”

“A horny teenager.” 

He barks out a true laugh at that, the sound spilling into a soft moan when you suck at the slight hollow of his throat, the area oversensitive because of the scars. “You're insufferable.”

“And hard,” you murmur, rolling your hips down into him. The motorcycle creaks at your movement, but, this time, it stays still—perfectly still. (You thank Wriothesley for the care he gave his bike, going as far as to invest in a good and proper kickstand. 

He definitely didn't imagine this when buying that, though.) 

It's time to up the ante, then (to really test the give of the product.)

“Lemme fulfill those dirty fantasies of yours, sweet thing,” you coo, suddenly dropping the pretense of light-hearted teasing and diving right on into adopting that tone of voice you know makes Wriothesley utterly helpless in his arousal. 

Yet, “Sigewinne rides on this with me—” he tries to say. 

“So?” You dip down, hot breath fanning against his lips. His eyes cross to follow your descent, trained on your mouth getting closer, closer. “I’ll clean it.

“Besides,” you continue, rubbing the tips of your noses together. His own breath tickles your face. “I want you to be reminded of this. Every time you go on a ride, you’re gonna be thinking about this—about me, about the way I ruined you right here, right on your precious lil’ bike. 

“You’ll always be reminded of this.” 

You don't expect the way he mutters, all breathless off of nothing but the pleasant ache across his neck from the hickeys and your dirty, dirty words—it’s a simple, a quiet but gruff, “Good.” 

“Good?” You tip your head to the side. 

Wriothesley only huffs again, pulling you closer with the hands he's moved to your shoulders. You swear you can feel the grooves of his gloves through your own shirt. “Good,” he repeats, easy confidence dripping from his voice. (You want him to drip with something else.) “I want to remember.” 

And, really, the grin you give is downright ridiculous, this love-sick, dopey thing that has no place in such a charged environment; but Wriothesley shares it with you, your own private smiles, and then he's surging forward and pulling you down to meet him in a desperate kiss, one all tongues and teeth. 

“Now quit talkin’,” he drawls, licking at the roof of your mouth, “and make g-good on that promise.” 

“Promise?” You chuckle, dark, a play out of Wriothesley’s own book. It doesn't fit you, really—you, the epitome of a good boy, a handsome sonuvabitch who has grandmas tripping over themselves trying to marry off their granddaughters. (“Oh, isn't he charming, sweet Cecily?” 

“Grandmama, I’m a lesbian.”)

“I didn't promise you anything, Wrio,” you coo, but your mouth and hands are hardly on the same wavelength; as you tease him with your words, dripping straight sin, your hands are unbuckling the heavy metal strung across his hips, thumbing down the fly ‘til you get your fingers wedged right between his thighs. “Maybe I should have you beg, hm? Beg to be ruined right now, right here on the same bike everybody sees you ride around town in.

“Oh,” you murmur, then, an idea springing to your mind as your fingertips press to the throb of his cock even through his briefs, “isn’t that an idea?” He whimpers, the sound so soft, so—so unbecoming, if you didn't know Wriothesley the way you do. “E’rybody’s gonna see you ridin’ this, and they're not gonna have a damn clue, are they? They're not gonna know the way you spread yourself so eagerly across her pretty seats—” you tease him by calling the bike a her, knowing how peculiar Wriothesley is about personifying the thing. 

He nods, hips humping desperately into your fingers. The whole time, he's making these other soft sounds, and you're taken, over and over again, by how lucky you are to have such a strong man at your mercy. “Please,” he begs. “Quit talkin’, and fuck me.”

Snickering, you bump your palm against his mons, saying, “But you love it when I tell you all the things I’m gonna do to you.” 

Unable to even deny it, he groans, deep and throaty. “I do,” he acquiesces while you take away your hand and help lift him enough to shimmy down his jeans and boxers both, “but I’d love it better if you'd do more than just talk.” You leave the fabrics bunched mid thigh as you stand him up proper and spin him around, pressing him gently into the leather upholstery. 

It’s quick, after that, to curl over the heft of him, to nudge your fingers back down between his bare thighs to tease at this thick cock, his throbbing cunt. He's soaked, off so little, and it's easy, too, to slide in one, two, three, working him open in soft, gentle movements that stretch him without a biting burn. 

“I’m ready,” he bemoans, shimmying his hips ‘til he bumps against your own erection, tenting at your own pants. “Fuck me!” His hips move, tantalizing, teasing, and you find, unsurprisingly, that pre-cum is seeping through the fabric of your boxers. 

“Fine, fine,” you murmur, pressing your fingertips against his g-spot for the first time today, the spot swollen beneath your touch. He mewls, chasing the pleasure, and you give it to him readily as you dig your cock out from your fly, barely pushing your pants down enough to rest just past your balls. 

Now that your cock’s out, you slide your fingers from his wet, loose heat. (It never ceases to amaze you, how loose a cunt he gets when he's sufficiently aroused. He opens so easily for you, sopping off of nothing but some words, some foreplay.)

No matter how wet he is, though, you're still careful to further slick him up with lubricant. You dip into him just-so, just enough to slather his hole and cock both in lube. He starts, slightly, at the starkness of something cold against where he's most hot, most sensitive. “Ah.”

Grinning devilishly against the nape of his neck, nosing down the high leather collar of his jacket, you drag out your fingers, terribly slow; and, only when you're sure Wriothesley is well aware of just where your hand is, you slather your own hard cock with the mess of lube and his slick. 

“Ready?” 

He huffs. “I’ve been ready, babydoll.” 

You laugh at that, nudging your cockhead up and into his loose hole. The resistance is hardly evident—really, his body gives so easily for you—, your cockhead popping in in that perfectly saccharine way that always makes you groan low, makes Wriothesley whimper high in his throat.

“So open for me, babydoll,” you coo—his own word against him—, one hand dropping from his hip to brace against the seat of the bike. It hasn't gotten truly unsteady yet, but you always like to err on the side of caution when your beloved is involved. (Plus, you’re really not keen on having to buy a replacement bike for him. 

A year’s salary alone probably couldn't buy a bike as souped up as his, the years Wriothesley put into the thing paying off beautifully in the long run. That damn bike's been around longer than you’ve been his boyfriend.)

Your cock slips in quick, easy, smooth, sliding right in down to the hilt, where you pause to let him adjust to your size. And, like clockwork, he shuffles his hips side to side against your one-hand hold and breathes out a low, whistling breath, says, “Okay.” 

With that simple word—that small phrase, really—, you’re drawing your hips out slow n’ slick, the sound frankly obscene in the quiet around you. His bike doesn't so much as creak this time, either: it’s silent but swaying in time with your thrusts, barely noticeable and not at all that important, supporting the weight of you both and the heft of your next tender thrust. 

Nosing at his sweat-damp hair, you drawl, “Look’it you, sweetheart, all open n’ pliant for me on my cock. You’re takin’ it so well, pretty thing right on your pretty bike.” 

“Baby—” he starts to say something else, but he gets cut off with his own moan, your thick cock budding up against his g-spot. You feel him froth around where you're balls-deep in him, and you slide your hand from hip to mons. 

“Want my hand, Wrio?” you ask, fingers brushing the mess of black curls sprouting from between his thighs. 

He nods vehemently, his bangs splayed across his sweaty forehead. God, if anybody walked by, drove by—they’d get an eyeful of your Wriothesley, fucked silly and hot by your cock; they’d get their heart’s content of punked-out Wriothesley, leather gloves and leather jacket spread across leather upholstery, his accessorizing chains rattling off with each thrust.

But Wriothesley is yours and yours alone; you wouldn't dare share the sight with anybody else. As such, you curl yourself further over his stretch-out, prone body, breathing hotly against and moaning against the blushing shell of his ear. 

“There we go,” you murmur, taking to circling the throbbing head of his cock with a gentle finger. He mewls into the air, his head almost limp on his shoulders. “There we go.” 

“F-feels good,” he moans as he tips his head into yours. “So good.”

“Yeah?” you ask, rhetoric, switching from circling to stroking him, your pointer and middle finger lightly squeezed on either side of his straining erection, moving forwards n’ backwards in gentle undulations. You swear you can feel his heartbeat in each throb of his cock, driving you to give it to him better, sweeter. “I can feel you throb for me, sweet thing: are you already that close?”

No longer trusting his voice (which is a shame, really, considering how much you love to hear those ruined syllables pass from his lips), Wriothesley can only nod, letting his head loll even further forward ‘til he’s practically curved over the seat of the bike. You follow him all the way down: you, wrapped over his curled back; and him, head pillowed on his crossed arms. A shimmer of sweat makes itself known on the sleeves of his jacket, the leather of it catching the sun. He’s devolved to helpless moans.

While he trembles beneath you, around your cock, you hone in on that perfect angle—the angle of your fingers stroking him off, the angle of your cock bumping against the spots deep in his cunt that never fail to pull Wriothesley apart. “There we go,” you repeat, your own words coming out muddled with the pleasure threatening to pull you under, instead. “‘m gonna cum in you, gonna fill you up ‘til you can’t take anymore—y-you want that, baby? Want me to breed you while you cream my cock—”

“—yes!” His voice is shot to hell, this raspy thing that’s somehow thrice as gruff as normal and equally as hot, as absolutely, resolutely ruined. “Yes, yes! Breed me, w-wanna be bred...” He tapers off with a whimper, cunt beginning to tighten up around you as his orgasm threatens to pull him under with you—no longer just apart, but wholly wrapped in you, safe and protected. 

“Cum for me, then—mm—, Wrio, Wriothesley—”

He whimpers, again, and you barely catch a whisper of your own name in the intelligible mess before you’re cumming, too, your cock pulsing with each involuntary squeeze of Wriothesley around you. Even as blood rushes through your ears, though, you’re whispering sweet words—nasty words, each one making him whimper n’ whine—, your fingers—long-trained, by now—keep up the gentle strokes of his cock until he’s too sensitive to go on. You withdraw them slowly, even as you’re still pumping him full with cum, even as his cock is still helplessly twitching and cunt still milking you for all you’re worth.

Coming down from your highs, then, is a slow, drawn out thing. You stay seated to the hilt, but you tease at the way his cunt’s spread open around the base of your cock, your fingers coming back covered in opaque white. He whines and weakly kicks his leg back, but you only laugh, bringing his cum up to your lips, tongue darting out to lick it clean. You groan—more-so for show, to get a rise out of your boyfriend—at the taste, and he seems to finally find his voice at that.

“Quit it,” he says; and, damn, did you do a number on his voice. It seems to have dropped an octave, all syrupy-slow and gruff in that way he always gets post-coitus. “‘s nasty.”

“I’m nasty?” Laughing, you nuzzle your cheek against the back of his head, cat-like in your affections. “You begged for it.” 

Wriothesley groans. When he attempts to lean up, you help by wrapping your hands around his abdomen—surely leaving a patch of saliva somewhere on either his tee or jacket—and prop your chin on his shoulder... all while you’re still balls-deep. 

“Hi,” you say, grinning. You can feel his eye-roll. 

But he says “hi” back anyway, letting his head fall back onto your own shoulder. He tilts his face towards you and meets your gaze with a satisfied sort of smile. 

“Well?” you ask. “Did I live up to your fantasies?” 

He nods. “And more,” he adds; but then he’s pulling off of and away from your cock, leaving you no time to dwell on it. “I starkly remember you saying you would clean my bike.” 

“I did.”

“Get to it then.” 

You grumble, though, tugging him back into your with the bear hold you’ve got wrapped across his torso. “You and the bike,” you finally correct, “and you come first. C’mon.”

Whether or not you actually get to cleaning that leather upholstery, well... Wriothesley may be driving Sigewinne to school tomorrow while sitting on a barely-there, all-dried patch of his and your cum. 

i got rlly carried away . . this was 3k words before i even knew it >< . . but: was this inbox from february? ye. does my pera anon still show their face? idk ! if ur still here, this is dedicated to u, honey <33 i know this may feel shallow of me, but i really do miss u guys when u disappear (；′⌒`)

[maginxlia]

Tokyo Revengers Men ✰ In Dirty Pictures of You PT 2

Cast Line Up✰ Draken, Takashi, Takemichi, Chifuyu and Taiju

Rated TV-MA

Minors this isn't For You

Summary ✰ You wanted More, I’ll give you more! What kind of Filthy (Consensual) Pictures the Men have of you on their phones plus Them touching themselves cause you're so fucking sexy. The Sequel Baby!

No pronouns up in here but the Reader has a Kitty

Ken “Draken” Ryuguji

✰ Draken Has his share of pictures of you on his phone and he treasures all of them but the photos that his eyes always linger on is the ones of you Topless on his bike

✰ Your titties free as you sat there all sexy and delicious make the tall man want to crawl to you

✰ His home screen is you sitting on his bike with nothing but barely there panties blessing your frame

✰ He's not ashamed to say he pulled those panties off with his teeth that very night

✰ Mikey Nearly making him jump out of his skin whenever he sees his phone in his hands “I didn't know Y/N knew how to ride a Motorcycle” Mikey said as Draken Turned every shade of red

✰ Had it been anyone else their asses would've gone missing

✰ Draken dirty little secret is that he has a video of You riding his dick while he sat on his bike

Draken is happy that the shop is nice and empty, He looked at the video of you balancing yourself on his dick and now his dick is heavy, Hard & In need of your pussy

He had to resort to fucking his fist as he sat on his bike imagining it was you on top of him

Sweat beading on his forehead as his hand glided up and down his dick making him grunt “I cant wait to bury myself in you, make you feel every inch baby” He groaned out as his head went back

His Hips bucked up into his hand as he chased his pleasure, his balls tightening as he fucked his fist harder

Draken stopped himself before he had the chance to cum. He snapped a quick picture of his hard dick before sending it to you with the text along “Wanna go for a Ride? Come to the shop, I’m saving every drop for you”

Takashi Mitsuya

✰ You are Takashi`s Favorite model, That's why he has so many pictures of you in lingerie he made especially for you

✰ His phone is filled with pictures of you scantily clad in different positions and his excuse will always be that it's for his portfolio

✰ But there are no excuses for his Home Screen being you standing on his desk spread eagle, Your body bare to him

✰ He keeps his phone to himself and he doesn't let anyone use it, let alone breathe on it

✰ He gets off to your photos whenever he is alone. How can he not touch himself when you give him so much inspiration that keeps his dick nice and hard??

Takashi had his right hand stroking his dick as his left hand held onto his balls, He was looking at the photo of you spreading your pussy for him

His Lilac eyes worshiped your body as he pretend that it was your hands around him making his eyes roll back

“I want to lick you up and dick you down so bad right now, I want to cum inside your pussy and fill you up” He groans to himself as his hand continued their work in getting him off

His breathing was irregular while he toyed with himself with expert hands, Goosebumps on his skin as he felt himself close to cumming

He closed his eyes as he came hard, his body shaking while he thrust up into his fist

Groaning as he regulated his breathing again while his hand found his phone to text you “I Hope you're ready to be overstimulated tonight Because I'm going to fuck you so good you'll be trembling when I'm done”

Takemichi Hanagaki

✰ Poor Takemichi, you use his phone to take pictures of your ass and titties.

✰ Every day is a new tempting picture of you gracing his home screen, He swears you're trying to kill him ( A Death he would happily accept cause he's a SIMP)

✰ Your Titties already make his dick stand but you adding your ass to the equation?? All his blood gone to his dick quick

✰ He studies the pictures of your ass and titties like he's getting graded

✰ Chifuyu and friends catching him with his eyes locked on his phone all the time making him get all flustered while clenching his phone to his chest talking about “It's nothing!” when they ask him what the hell can be so interesting

✰ Crybaby Hero's phone is practically glued to him, No one can peek inside but him

✰ Takemichi would legit bawl like the crybaby he is if you stop taking dirty pictures of yourself

✰ Newest Obsession of his? The Video you took of him while he ate you out good

Takemichi currently was laying down on his belly in your shared bed, His left hand was holding up his head as his right palmed his dick through his pants

His eyes were focused on his phone that sat up against his pillow before him, the video of Him lapping between your folds played as your moans filled the room

“Ugh so Pretty” Takemichi Moaned as he grind his dick into the mattress, His hips keeping up with the pace of your moans

Tears of pleasure pricked his eyes while he continued to fuck himself to the video of you, “ Yes Baby I want to lick up your juices, please let me have a taste” He grunted to himself as his hips began to tremble

Takemichi couldn't stop himself from cumming along with you as the video ended, He came in his pants but he felt no shame as he grabbed his phone to text you “ Please come home, I need to taste you”

Chifuyu Matsuno

✰ Chifuyu the King of your Lewdness, So many pictures of your naked body litters his room, and his phone

✰ You making a fucked out face? Your ass? Your Titties? Your pussy? Your Tongue with his cum on it? Chifuyu has pictures of all that

✰ Chifuyu can be balls deep in you with his hair in his face and still take the most flattering pictures of you

✰ He cherishes all his dirty photos of you and he hides them well, No one knows he has these photos but you

✰ His Home Screen is you laying on your back in a maid outfit with your ass in the air with your panties showing to him

✰ He has his phone in his manga when he's reading it around his friends cause he can't go without looking at you every ten minutes

✰ His eyes roll in the back of his head whenever you send him videos of you playing in your pussy

✰ You drive him crazy but He's happy to be driven insane by you

✰ Your photos already keep his dick mad hard but your videos? Nearly ends him.

✰ He cums to your videos whenever he gets a chance. He can't help it you make him needy

Chifuyu runs his free hand through his bangs while stroking his dick to the Video of you fingering yourself

“Yeah Baby, Just like that. I bet you can't wait for me to replace those fingers with my dick, Yeah? Mhmmm” He groans out as his hand works his shaft

He could barely keep his body from shivering as he continued pleasing himself “ Pussy all pretty and wet for me just the way I love it” He said to himself while he kept up with the pace your fingers entered in and out of you

Chifuyu knew he was going to bust soon if he kept this up, he couldn't keep himself still in his chair as his rate of breathing increased

He grabbed his phone to record himself as he went over the edge, cumming all over his thighs

He gave himself a few more pumps as he enjoyed the euphoric feeling before sending the video to you, The Caption? “I need you baby but before you can sit on this dick, I'm going to need you to ride this face first”

(Bonus) Taiju Shiba

✰ Taiju Has the audacity to have you saved in his contacts as “Angel” while having the most sinful pictures of your body saved on his phone

✰ Pictures of you sitting naked on his clothed thick thighs are only a meager example of the type of filth he has of you

✰ His home screen is a picture of you fucked out on his dick

✰ Taiju has videos of him fucking You and They are good quality too

✰ “Keep the Phone Still, I want to see how well I fucked this pretty little pussy up” Taiju commands you while he drills your guts

✰ If you don't keep the phone still?? If the video isn't to his liking??? Taiju fucking you again twice as hard and he's going to fuck you until you get the perfect video for him

✰ His phone is always near him, He never lets it out of his sight. Plus who's going to touch TAIJU SHIBA's phone?? Mans a walking ass beating machine

✰ When he's by himself he can't help but watches the videos of him fucking you into a babbling mess

Taiju Sat on the couch in your two livingroom, his shirt is unbuttoned as he used his fist to fuck himself

His Huge dick is uncomfortably hard as his Beautiful yellow eyes glare down his phone that plays the video of him fucking you sore

He studies the way he fucks in and out of you as he pretends his hand is your pussy gripping him

His stomach contracts every time you moan like it does when he fucks you making him grunt along

“Who fucks you silly like I do? No fucking one. That Pussy belongs to me” He grunts loudly as he grips himself harder

He was on the tip of cumming right when you entered the living room, He didn't stop stroking himself as he beckon you to come to him with his free hand

As soon as you got near to him, He pulled you to him so that his lips were by your ear “ I hope you're ready Because I'm going to fuck a baby into you Tonight”

Hotties on the Taglist❤️‍🔥 @obitohno @whatdoyoumeanitsnotcanon @bakarilennox @ransluvrboy @earlmeow

Likes, Comments, Reblogs, And Asks are Appreciated & Loved

Please Don’t Steal My Shit

[murd3r0u55ilh0u3tt3]

Eli Jang x Yor Forger reader

• You probably went to the Jaewon High together, but you guys first met at the park where you were taking your dog, Bond, for a walk. You played fetch with Bond, but instead of bringing the stick, he brought back a toddler.

• You panicked and immediately removed the girl from Bond's jaws and cradled her, looking around for her guardian. Finally, you heard a voice calling the girl's and a man with blonde hair running your way.

• You gave the girl back to the man and apologized and he said that all was forgiven as there were no scratch marks on the child and that he saw the dog saving the wandering child from a speeding motorcycle. The father, you assumed, introduced himself as Eli Jang, name which you were familiar of... Millie always gossiped about him during lunch at school... Isn't he from the beauty department?

• Soon enough, your meet ups at the park became more frequent and you even offered to babysit Yenna for him! Even Bond likes the child! Eli, as tired as he is, hesitantly agreed after the past few weeks of managing Hostel has been more chaotic.

• One day, he was trying to subdue these men that were terrorizing Hostel members. Eli could only have patience so much that when it ran out, he pummeled the men's skulls into the ground but is having a hard time fighting their leader.

• The leader then retreated to an alleyway and a bloodthirsty Eli followed after. He heard yelling and slashing from what was most likely knives piercing through flesh and turned to a hidden corner. He leaned his back to the wall and peeked, seeing a blur of black fabric. Before he could even interrupt, Warren and Sally pulled him back away from the area and back to Hostel. When he returned to the alleyway, he saw no sign of blood or weapons... That's strange... Must be an expert fighter from another gang.

• He went home and Yenna ran up to hug her father, and as he was going to greet you, he saw a bruise on your cheek. You nervously made up an excuse about slipping on the floor and hitting your cheek on the table corner, to which Eli sighed. He always noticed how clumsy you are, yet so agile at the right time of danger...

• Okay, he's starting to think that you do a lot more than yoga... The stunts you pulled while fighting off a thief on your way home was definitely martial arts. The way you slice food with a knife is terrifying. Hell, he even saw you climbing up the walls after one glance from a roach on the floor! Something's wrong, but for some reason, he can't quite figure it out... Maybe you'll tell him when the time comes, right?.... Right?

• Millie and the rest of the girls in Jaewon High are pretty jealous that you're so close with one of the most handsome men in the school. Despite your aloof demeanor, you actually made friends like Daniel, Vasco, Mira, Jace, Zoe, Jay... But you dont want any of them finding out your true colours.

[that-bwitch]

london boy

am I in my lover era? probably, but am I ashamed? no, not really. but just a warning, I won't even try to commit to posting this often. literally just a burst of inspiration (and taylor swift).

london boy by taylor swift as inspiration sirius x muggle!reader warning: prolly nothing, it's just fluff wc: 2,2k

From your very childhood up to your late teens your parents really liked bringing you to London with them from time to time. It was a truly beautiful city to be a tourist in. You’d been there so often that you felt like some sort of an expert. You could recite the history of any major landmark, just point at, say, the Tower, and one could hear a whole lecture from you about the fortress, the prison, the ravens, all the good stuff. You got cocky at times, thinking you could easily become a tour guide. Your friends back in your hometown rolled their eyes every time you even mentioned London, and the level of your excitement grew every single day throughout the month before you finally moved there.

Turned out, London wasn’t so great to live in. At least that’s what you thought on your first day, when you paid thrice the price you expected to pay for the cab taking you from the airport to the hotel. Then, the hunt for a rental began. The hotel started to get expensive day by day and soon enough you really lost your spirits. You didn’t have enough money to pay for a room and a real estate agent, so you resorted to looking through tons and tons of newspapers, hoping that an advertisement of a one-bedroom would at some point catch your eye. It wasn’t working as well as you expected, so one gloomy rainy afternoon you found yourself just walking through a random neighbourhood looking at houses and thinking that cooking some hot soup on your own stove sounded really nice at the moment. You realized that your exterior was pretty miserable for someone who couldn’t hold in an excited shriek right after buying a ticket to London last month. As if to confirm your assumptions, a sudden laughter disrupted the cacophony of raindrops hitting the ground and wind howling between the branches of nearby trees.

Oh, god.

“You aren’t from ‘round here, right?”

A motorcycle rolled from behind you along the roadway. You continued on your way, thinking it was just some creep who noticed your vulnerable state and decided to, well, be a creep.

“Hey, hey, ma’am, you don’t have an umbrella and I do. Pretty sure I win.”

“Ma’am? Really?”

You stopped at last to see who had the audacity to just ride up to you like you were their longtime friend.

“Bet that’s what you think us Brits talk like, foreign girl.”

The rider took off his helmet and you saw what was probably the best sight you had a pleasure to witness in the entirety of London. The young man was truly divine: his dark hair barely reached his shoulders and was a bit messy from the helmet; he had a stubble that was too short to be called a beard yet, but it was getting there; when he smiled, you could see small dimples forming on his cheeks. You felt stupid staring at him like that but couldn’t help it at all. With his stunning looks, the obvious accent you immediately took notice of sounded even more charming.

“Alright, not a talker, I see.”

The man stood up from his vehicle, pulled out a kickstand so that it wouldn’t just roll down the street and walked up to you, pulling up the collar of his leather jacket to shield his face from the rain.

“You said you had an umbrella.”

Kind of stupid of you to say, but you couldn’t really make up anything else that wouldn’t give out your infatuation.

“Just like that, huh? Could at least ask my name, you know.”

He didn’t wait for your response, holding his hand out to you.

“Sirius.”

You shook his hand, although yours was already pretty numb from the cold, and introduced yourself as well. You had to say something at that point because you started to look weirder and weirder by the second.

“That’s… an interesting name.”

Oh, come on. This is all you have?

“Bit rude, darling. What did you think it was?”

“Like… Matthew?”

The man laughed, just like you heard him laughing minutes ago. He wasn’t taunting you, no, on the contrary – he was rather amused by your mild naivety.

“Oh shit, do I look like a Matthew? I’m gutted, I have to say.”

You couldn’t help chuckling at his words. The rain didn’t feel so bad anymore, now that you had someone to share it with.

“Hop on. I have to get you to a pub, or else you’ll turn into a bloody icicle.”

He helped you get on his bike and soon you were riding straight through the streets of London with your hands wrapped around Sirius’ body. You felt it was a wee bit inappropriate for someone you met, like, five minutes ago, but you couldn’t say you didn’t like it. What is more, you expected raindrops to become some small annoying mosquitoes who would relentlessly bite your face during the ride but surprisingly, it didn’t happen. It almost felt like you actually had an invisible umbrella above you, because you glanced at a sleeve of your coat and it had become much drier than it was before.

The pub Sirius took you to looked like one of those places you saw on TV when the setting was supposed to be the UK. Lots of wooden furniture around, lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling and emitting warm and rather dim light. In the corner you saw an old record player with a small TV on top of it. You saw it as a symbol of modernity overtaking the old school, which epitomized London itself, but decided not to voice your thoughts in order not to appear as a nerd.

“Fancy a beer?” Sirius asked, leading you to a large counter.

In your mind you would much prefer some tea to warm yourself up, but the stranger was already too kind for you to make any extra demands of him. So, you just nodded and let him have free reign over the type of beer for you.

“We come here with my mates sometimes,” Sirius explained, having made an order while you made yourself comfortable on a bar stool.

“That’s nice.” You felt a bit awkward and out of place, but Sirius didn’t seem like the shady type, so you felt more comfortable with him than you would have likely felt with anyone else. “Do you watch rugby here?” You gestured towards the TV.

 “I mean, if it’s on…” Sirius tried but failed to hide a chuckle. “That’s what the rest of the world thinks of us English lads, huh? That we hang at pubs and watch rugby all day?”

“To be fair, you took me to a pub.” You felt slightly embarrassed but attempted not to show it.

“That much’s true.”

You took a small sip out of a glass mug of beer placed in front of you. It wasn’t that bad, to be honest – a bit too bitter for your personal taste, but you could see yourself finishing the whole thing.

“Is this a British thing, beer in the afternoon?” you asked, looking at a huge grandfather clock behind the bar and remembering that it was, in fact, only midday.

“I guess, but I’ve always thought of it as a me thing.”

You held your mug in front of your face so that Sirius wouldn’t notice a huge smile forming on your face. You found everything about him irresistibly attractive – his voice, his mannerisms, his whole presence was alluring in a very authentic kind of way. It was obvious that in front of you he wasn’t pretending, he was just being himself.

“How did you know I wasn’t from here?” You finally had the courage to ask the question that had been pestering you for a while.

“Oh, it’s obvious,” Sirius replied, taking a swig of his beer. “You can always tell, it’s just how us Londoners are wired.”

You couldn’t really retort.

“Are you on holiday, or…?” Sirius went silent, letting you fill in the gap.

“I moved here a week ago,” you explained, feeling a very annoyed expression taking over your face. “Been trying to find an apartment but no luck so far.”

Sirius frowned a bit, thinking about something.

“I reckon I could help you, darling,” he finally told you with a playful smirk on his face. “I’d have to ask you for something in return though.”

“Oh, sure, I’ll pay!”

And you were ready to, because you had heard from someone that word of mouth was actually the best way to find an apartment on a budget these days. It’s just that you didn’t have this mouth before.

Sirius just grinned in response.

“Hey, that’s on me.”

He stopped your hand as it was reaching into your purse to take out your wallet and pay for your beer.

“Really?”

“Well, I dragged you here, so it’s only fair.”

Afterwards you stepped out of the pub to see daylight again. Fortunately, you discovered that it stopped raining and the sky was of a much lighter gray than before. Sirius caught up to you and stretched out his arm, wrapping it around your shoulder. You didn’t mind at all but were still quite stunned because, well, a teenager in you woke up and started internally screaming from this handsome stranger’s closeness.

“A nice weather we have here, darling. Which is super convenient as I don’t prefer driving drunk.”

Sirius looked like someone who would gladly drive drunk, you thought, but instead simply asked about the bike.

“A friend will take it,” he gave you a rather nonchalant reply, already headed somewhere to your left, with your hand now in his. “Come on, London doesn’t wait.”

“What if I have plans?” you tried to retort but your feet still carried you after Sirius and you weren’t going to stop them.

“Really? You just moved here, can’t find a flat and you have plans? Don’t believe it.” Sirius didn’t leave any room for objections as he was absolutely right. “Come o-o-on, darling, I know you want it.”

And for god’s sake, you did.

—

“So… Is this the part of the day when we say goodbye?”

All of a sudden you felt a wave of sadness coming over you. This day turned out to be truly magical and the last thing you wished for was for it to end. Sirius showed you everything, and you meant everything. He had his ways around the city that you would never even think to take, but they worked wonders, almost like some kind of portals transporting you from one place to another (but of course, it was just Sirius). Soon you could take pride in having explored pretty much all the central boroughs from inside and out. You, once again, had a very tourist-y experience of eating fish and chips in Hyde Park, and Sirius showed you an amazing little Chinese place where you promptly had dinner. You couldn’t have been thankful enough when he told you he would take it upon himself to look for an apartment – sorry, a flat – for you, but when you tried to give him some cash, he adamantly refused, so you were left wondering what he meant when he said he would ask for something in return. But most of all, you couldn’t really understand why he would do anything for you at all.

“I guess it is…” you mumbled, wishing with your whole heart you were wrong. But it was late, the sun hid behind the horizon hours ago and your eyes became increasingly more and more itchy.

“Well, we’re meeting tomorrow, so… Not so bad, huh?”

Sirius didn’t seem tired in the slightest, so you decided to just fire away and ask the question that had been swirling in your mind for the whole day.

“Why are you doing all this?”

“What do you mean?” Sirius raised his eyebrow and, judging by the look on his face, thought you were making a joke.

“I mean, you saw me on the street and just… took me under your wing, I guess. I wouldn’t have all this experience without you, London boy. And this apartment thing… It’s too generous. You don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t have to.” Sirius had the widest smile on his face. It was captivating and you didn’t even notice how you started smiling yourself. “But I want to, that’s it, darling. I really, really want to.”

His hands kept yours warm while he spoke. You had a sudden urge to do something you might or might not have regretted in the future. You stepped closer to Sirius, getting up on your toes and pecking his cheek ever so slightly, as if you were afraid to scare him away. Then you leaned away, staring at his face with worry in your eyes. Sirius slowly ran his fingers along his skin, where your lips just were, like he couldn’t believe what happened. Then, much to your surprise, he got closer and before you could realize it, your lips met his. They were a bit chapped, but the pleasure they brought you couldn’t have possibly belonged on planet Earth.

“I fancy you, foreign girl.”

Sirius pulled back and looked deep into your eyes. His gaze was so tender that you understood that from now on, London wouldn’t be such a bad place to live.

my masterlist

[feeblescholarmyass]

"To Whoever Is Dicking Around on a Motorcycle in the Middle of the Night..."

in which your neighbor, Chuuya Nakahara, stays up too late messing with his motorcycle and it keeps you awake

tags: pre-relationship, pining stage, excessive use of the word "motorcycle", reader does not like riding a motorcycle, ooc? Chuuya (I tried my best babes but I am soo early in the series), this was beta read (rare) so it shouldn't have too many mistakes (ty @ratty-rat-toot 💞), vague hints that reader works in a bakery, I lost motivation at the end so the sections got shorter

a/n: this will not be part of a series, but expect more Chuuya fics in the future!!!

You tossed to your side for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. You'd been attempting to fall asleep for hours. No matter what you did, it just wouldn't happen. You took your medication, made sure to soothe yourself and prepare for bed. Yet, you just couldn't seem to get any rest at all. The grueling summer heat combined with your normal insomnia was not doing you any favors.

You peeled your eyelids open and groped around in the dark to find your phone and check the time. At first, your fingers found nothing but your own bedsheets. Only after a more thorough and frustrated search did you find what you were looking for. You winced as the screen flashed a blinding light when you turned it on, and it took your eyes a few seconds to adjust to the invasive light before you could read the time. It was only a few minutes from midnight, meaning you had about six hours left to attempt to go to sleep.

You groaned into your pillow, wishing for summer to be over already. Once the days were shorter and the temperatures lower, you had much higher hopes for finally finding some sort of sleep schedule besides an attempt. Unfortunately, the days were only going to get hotter from there on out.

You rolled back onto your side, wrapping your arms around a blanket and struggled to find a comfortable position that wouldn't cook you in your sleep.

Just as your eyes fluttered shut and the weight of your cat against your legs began to lull you into sleep, the loud sound of an engine revving startled you back awake. You were no engine expert, but it sounded like a motorcycle.

(More UTC)

Is someone really taking their motorcycle out for a ride at this hour? That's ridiculous. Just go away, already! I'm trying to sleep, god dammit! You thought, stuffing your head under a pillow.

However, the noises from your neighbor's garage did not get any quieter. The longer this persisted, the more irritable you grew.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," you cried, throwing off your light blanket (much to your cat's protest) and shoved on the first jacket you could find to cover yourself a little. It was too hot for proper pajamas, so you had been in bed wearing the tiniest pajama shorts in your possession and some decently comfortable undergarments.

You marched to your front door, pulled it open, and followed the sound to the mystery individual who thought it was a good idea to play mechanic in the middle of the night. It was dark, but the moon was almost full, so you had plenty of light to find your way around the street. It helped that your eyes were used to the dark from hours of staring up at your ceiling in the lightless expanse of your bedroom.

Just down the street, two houses east and across from yours, you found the culprit, kneeling on the concrete of his open garage, tuning up his expensive looking bike. The motorcycle itself was hot pink, and from the looks of it, a decent model. As much as you appreciated good taste, it didn't excuse the noise at such a late hour.

"Hey, idiot!" You shouted. Was the name calling a little unnecessarily rude? Yes, but it was also unnecessary for him to be so loud at practically midnight, so you didn't feel any remorse.

The perpetrator looked up at you from the task at hand, red hair tied up loosely against his neck, and grayish blue eyes reflecting the moonlight. It would have been pretty, if you weren't so pissed off. Actually, even through your vision that was blurred from exhaustion and blind, sleepy rage, he was incredibly attractive. It was unfortunate that you had to meet like this.

"It's the middle of the night! Don't you think you should keep it down?! Some of us are trying to sleep!" You readjusted your jacket, realizing you must look a little crazy standing in a stranger's yard in only your undergarments, some very tiny shorts, and a very thin jacket. In your defense, you hadn't been expecting to make any late night visits to crazy neighbor boys to make complaints.

He frowned for a moment before his expression relaxed. "Sorry," he called back. He got up from the ground and dusted off his knees. You took notice of his grease covered forearms. He had been messing with the bike. You hoped he knew what he was doing and wasn't just an amateur trying a hand at such expensive upkeep.

"You'd better be," you muttered under your breath. You turned on your heel with a huff and stomped back to your house, all the while attempting not to flash the frustratingly pretty boy who was watching you leave with a dumbfounded grin on his face.

Embarrassing lack of clothes aside, it had felt good to yell at someone. Maybe now you'd be able to sleep with some peace of mind, knowing the sanctity of the night was once again just as quiet as it should be.

After that, there were no more motorcycle engine noises keeping you up in the night. Once again, only your poor habits and unfortunate circumstances prevented you from getting a full night's rest.

It seemed that motorcycle boy had taken your complaint into consideration and decided not to do any more impromptu repairs at all hours of the night.

Sadly, that didn't mean you slept any better. You were an absolute wreck today. One night of poor sleep had turned into a week of hardly getting any rest at all. Currently, you were waddling around like a zombie, hardly able to think as your body performed on autopilot to get all the necessary tasks done. You couldn't even remember what you'd eaten for breakfast that morning, or if you'd even had breakfast at all.

Last night had resulted in a total four hours of fitful sleep, accompanied by the strangest dreams you couldn't even remember. Something about weretigers and detectives, but it was all so intelligible that you didn't bother attempting to unwind the mystery of whatever your subconscious had cooked up for you this time.

You had made your coffee with an extra shot of espresso and hoped for the best. You took another sip, realized it was too sweet for your tastes, but didn't care enough to do anything about it. It may have been the first cohesive thought you'd had all day.

You gave your cat a scratch between its ears and slipped on a pair of shoes so you could go out and check on the garden your father had reminded (read: demanded) you to take care of, since he couldn't keep an eye on what ingredients you were using in meals anymore. As much as you struggled to remember to care for the plants properly, you found you didn't hate the responsibility. It made you feel productive whenever you were able to harvest the results of all your troubles. The fresh taste was an added bonus.

As you watered the flowers that served as ground coverage used to shield your precious darling fruit bushes and vegetable garden from nasty herbivore vermin, you heard the sound of an engine starting up from down the street.

Ah, motorcycle boy is up, you thought. A strange thrill coursed through your veins as you remembered how he had looked in the moonlight. Bad Y/n, now is not the time to get giddy over some stupid neighbor boy. You've got to get to work soon and can't afford time to daydream.

Despite the stern talking-to you were giving yourself, you couldn't help but want to catch another glance of such a beautiful man. You turned and shielded your eyes from the rising sun, glancing at your neighbor. The view did not disappoint.

He straddled the bike as he put on his helmet. His hair was long enough you could still see it peeking out from underneath and curling around his shoulders. Red shone gold in the early morning sunshine, creating a glow around him that made you forget what you were doing just to watch him prepare to drive away.

You set down the watering can with as much care as you could manage (which is to say, very little) and pushed your hair out of your eyes to get a better view. You caught him glancing at you before he started the bike. The look he gave you sent shivers down your spine. Only once he had disappeared from your view were you able to return to fretting over the poor leaves of your radishes. It seemed some bunnies had decided those were the yummiest, and trampled your flowers just to get to them.

Oh, well. You would just have to take more care to try and prevent them from making it that far next time. Luckily, your newest plot to save your garden involved a more forceful method of keeping herbivores out of your plants.

The next time you ran into Motorcycle Boy, you were picking up some seeds to begin your new garden protection strategy. It had been a month or two without any interactions, much to your pleasure. It was a hassle to try to wrangle the butterflies he sent tumbling in your stomach back in their cage.

This time, he seemed to be fussing over the location of some wine. He was small, not much taller than a young teenage boy. For someone with such an unfriendly scowl, he didn't seem all that intimidating at the moment. You held back giggles as you watched him strain to grab the bottle he wanted, hopping up and down and cursing under his breath in frustration.

You decided not to say anything and passed him wordlessly, sticking to the opposite side of the aisle and hoping he wouldn't notice you, or at the very least he would leave you alone. You didn't have the time to play the small talk game at the moment; you had a friend on their way to visit you, and you were keen on being home before they arrived.

"Hey, you!" He called. You winced at the sound of his voice and bit back a sigh. He had noticed you and not chosen to ignore you. It seemed luck was not on your side today. "C'mere," he called.

You turned towards him and put on your best customer service smile. "Do you need something?" You asked him.

"You're the girl who showed up in my yard wearing practically nothing, yeah?" He lifted his head so he could look down at you. You felt your face go hot. Did he really have to bring that up in public? You mentally whined. "Grab this bottle for me and I'll forget about the whole thing."

All embarrassment you had felt previously turned into anger as his words registered in your brain. "Huh?!? Why should I? You really should learn to get better at asking people for help, if that's what you're trying to do here."

His eyes widened as he seemed to realize his mistake. "Hold on," he called, putting his hands up in defense. "I didn't mean it like that. 'Just thought it must have been pretty embarrassing, you know? Let me try again. Would you help me over here?"

You took a second to cool down, then took a deep breath. "Fine, since you asked so nicely," you huffed.

You reached up with a little bit of a struggle and got down the bottle he had been trying to grab, then glanced over the label. He's got good taste in alcohol, too. This is getting ridiculous.

"There, now don't mention that ever again. Please," you muttered, handing the bottle to him.

"Gotcha," he replied without another glance in your direction,, looking only at the wine bottle in his hand. He turned it over and read the labels, then tucked it under his arm and headed for the register.

"Wait!" You called, immediately cursing yourself for acting before thinking. What am I doing? I was almost free to go back to ignoring him!

He turned, raising an eyebrow at you. "Huh? D'ya need something?" He asked.

"Your name," you said before you could lose your nerve. "I've been thinking of you as Motorcycle Boy and thought I should probably learn it."

He threw back his head and laughed. Your face flushed hot again and you hoped you hadn't made a fool of yourself, especially in front of the cute boy you had been thinking about constantly for a month straight.

When his fit of laughter subsided, he grinned at you and gave you what you'd asked for. "I'm Chuuya Nakahara. And you? What name should I attach to 'Crazy Motorcycle-Hating Neighbor?"

"I do not- ugh. Y/n L/n, and I am not crazy. If anyone is crazy here, it's you. Seriously, who thinks it's time to play with a motorcycle at midnight?" You folded your arms over your chest and frowned at him. He only grinned at you again.

"See ya around, L/n. Hopefully fully dressed next time," he teased. With that said, you parted ways, each playing with the feel of the newly acquired name in your mouth.

"Y/n L/n, eh?" He muttered, twirling the stem of a lily of the valley from your garden. It was a pretty little flower; it was a shame that it was dreadfully poisonous.

He leaned back until his head hit his pillow. He wondered if you were up or if that had been a one-time incident. He hadn't touched the bike in his garage past ten p.m. since you'd marched so boldly over to his house and chided him for the noise. He briefly thought about getting it out just to see if you would come back.

You'd been running through his mind non-stop for months now. The sight of your bare legs and glimpses of the rest of you from under that jacket had him worried that damned Dazai had rubbed off on him. He couldn't help sneaking looks at you every morning as you tended to your garden before he left for work. It felt dirty every time he looked at you, because every time he would get a vivid image of you giving him a death glare while half naked.

He was no womanizer, unlike that ass. However, he had to admit that he wouldn't mind seeing you in a state of undress again.

He sat up with a start at that thought. What am I thinking? Gross, I am not getting hot and bothered over my neighbor's legs. It's just legs. Pretty, deliciously bare legs. SHUT UP.

He shook his head, trying to get rid of the increasingly unwelcome thoughts of your legs and how your skin would feel on his fingertips, or how cute you looked when you were pouting.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath. This was not good.

"Turns out he'd been having an affair the whole time. I felt so bad for her! I can't say I didn't expect it, though," your coworker said, waving a hand at you. "I mean, he just seemed like the type, y'know?"

Listening to Raina talk about other people's relationships had gotten boring after the first hour, but today had been a slow and boring day, and she didn't expect you to add very much to the conversation.

"Speaking of types, what's yours?" She popped a sucker into her mouth. She'd quit smoking about three years ago, and she'd started taking them everywhere so her mouth could be occupied whenever she felt the urge. Since then it had become a habit to have a sucker in her mouth at all times.

"I dunno, I don't think about it very often." It was a lie, but you didn't want to get into that just minutes before the day was over and you could finally go home. "I haven't really cared much about boys since I was a kid. It's not that big of a deal."

Even as you said it, you realized that wasn't true. Thoughts of a redhead on a hot pink motorcycle crossed your mind too often for it to be not a big deal. He'd even started showing up in your dreams because of how often you thought of him.

"Liar!" She slammed her hands down on the counter, grinning at you. You jumped at the sudden movement, suddenly feeling too warm for your liking. "You're all flustered and nervous! Who's the boy? Spit it out," she ordered.

"Wh-what?! There is no boy, I don't know what you're talking about!" You felt your blood rushing to your face and put your hands up in defense, but it was too late. Raina has you backed into a corner, and judging from the mischievous smirk on her face, you wouldn't be leaving until she drained every last drop of information from you like a gossip leech.

"Oh, come on! It's written all over your face. Tell me about him! Is he cute?" She clapped, way too excited for a conversation that would make you stay even later for work than necessary.

You looked around desperately for an escape. The ring of the front door's bell gave you that out, even if it didn't help you leave any quicker. Not having to tell Raina about Chuuya was all you needed.

You turned with the biggest smile you could manage on your face to greet the customer. However, the second you saw him, your smile fell. Speak of the devil and he shall appear, you mentally sighed. Even just thinking about him seems to make him appear. And now he knows where I work. Fantastic.

Chuuya stopped in the doorway, taking in the strange situation he had walked in on. His eyes caught on how Raina's arms had caged you in and how obviously out of sorts you looked. "Am I… interrupting something?"

Raina jumped off of you and cleared her throat, returning her sucker to its place on her tongue. "Not at all! What can we help you with?"

Her professionalism once a customer stepped in scared you just a little bit. You followed her lead and dusted off your knees, looking away. The last thing you needed was for him to start teasing you as well.

"I was actually here to pick up an order. I know it's late, but-"

"I'll get it for you! Nakahara. I thought the name was familiar," you commented. Actually, you'd been wondering if the order was his all day long. You hadn't placed him as a red velvet guy, but here he was.

While looking through (hiding in) the back, you tried to think of an escape plan. Anything to stop Raina from teasing you for the next few months. She was already insufferable about boys, and if she knew that you had a stupid crush on that stupid redhead with his stupid motorcycle, she would never let you live it down.

"So are you going to tell me what about you made Y/n hightail it out of here, or do I have to make a guess myself?" Raina leaned forward against the front desk, pointing her sucker accusingly at Chuuya.

"Hey, I didn't do anything!" Chuuya raised his hands in mock self-defense, trying not to grin. He'd seen how flustered you'd gotten the second you recognized him. He hoped it was more than just embarrassment of seeing someone you know outside of work walk into your workplace.

"Mhm, sure. How do you know them? Boyfriend? Relative..?" She watched him carefully for his reaction. She was nothing if not good at pulling gossip out of thin air, and your love life was her current muse.

"Neither," he chuckled. "I'm their neighbor. They got pissed as hell at me for being too noisy in the middle of the night and mouthed me off in my own yard. Ever since we seem to be running into each other everywhere."

Raina hummed, sizing him up. After a moment of thinking, she decides you two are obviously in love and she will be involved no matter what the costs. "You know, our shift is about done for the day. Autumn has been coming in quickly and it's been pretty cold lately. Y/n was complaining about walking home in the cold just yesterday. It's a decently long walk to their house from here. Like a whole 40 minutes, right?"

She watched as the gears started moving in his brain. Thank gods, he's not dense. This guy knows what I'm getting at.

He seemed to come to a conclusion just as you reappeared from the back, looking suspiciously more put together than you did just seconds ago. Raina almost wanted to laugh at how obvious you were.

"Your shift is almost over, right? It's pretty cold. I could take you home if you want," he suggested as he took the box from you.

"You would?" You asked, seeming almost stunned by the offer. You blinked at him a couple times before muttering, "I guess that would be nice."

"It's not like it's out of the way of anything." He waved a hand at you as he spoke. "I'll be waiting for you outside."

You nodded and hurried to gather your things into your bag. You carefully avoided answering any of Raina's enthusiastic questions before escaping the building and arriving in the small parking lot.

Your favorite part about the location was how much attention was put into the surrounding scenery. Shrubbery and other assorted vegetation provided scents and colors you didn't get in busier parts of the city. Even walking home, there was very little open area that made you feel like you could be seen from miles away. It was comforting to feel so grounded by your surroundings.

There, in the tiny parking lot that was usually empty, stood your neighbor, who was busy strapping his newly acquired box to the back of his motorcycle.

"You ever been on a bike before?" He didn't spare you a glance as he asked.

"No," you said. "Should I be worried?"

He grinned and didn't respond. He handed you a spare helmet and motioned for you to join him on the motorcycle.

You hesitated for a moment, thinking through all the decisions you had ever made, and after ultimately deciding that this was not the stupidest one, took the helmet from his outstretched hand.

The fact that you would get to hold him had no sway on your decision at all. You swore.

The second you heard the engine start up and felt your weight shift as the bike prepared to move, butterflies erupted in your stomach. The kind that you get before you fall down the stairs or trip on the sidewalk. The, 'oh fuck this is bad' kind of butterflies. But it was too late to get off.

Chuuya tried not to notice how nice it felt when you squeezed him tighter. He could feel your heart racing from where your chest pressed against his back.

He laughed, he couldn't help it. He heard you grumble something from behind him, but couldn't really make out what you were saying. It didn't matter; he had a pretty good idea of what the message was. He bit his tongue to keep from laughing harder as he merged onto the highway.

"Stupid Chuuya, stupid motorcycle," you muttered against his back. Feeling how fast you were moving was not helping the dizziness you had developed. You closed your eyes and held on tighter to the man in front of you, trying to focus on something else, like the texture of his jacket or how nice his hair smelled. You didn't care if it was stupid crush behavior, you needed anything to distract you.

Your heart was beating so fast that you could beat a hummingbird for the world record of beats per minute. Every little movement of the vehicle beneath you brought a fresh wave of panic. You couldn't understand why people would do this for fun.

Eventually you grew used to the constant panic and closed your eyes, blindly trusting Chuuya to get you home without killing the both of you.

When you finally felt the motorcycle stop, you fell off and shakily removed the spare helmet Chuuya had given you. He looked down at you with a crooked grin, obviously struggling to hold back his laughter.

"So, how did you l-like it?" He snickered. The look you shot at him only served to make him dissolve into a fit of laughter.

"Never… again…" You huffed, pushing your hair out of your face and curling up on the ground in front of his house. "Next time, I'm walking. I don't care how cold it is."

"Good luck with that," he grinned. "Oh, and thanks for the cake." He grabbed the box, waved goodbye to you, and went inside.

You stood and watched him leave, placing a hand on your chest. Your heart was racing. You wondered if it was from the terrifying ride or… something else.

reblogs and comments are much appreciated!!!

[beansricejc]

JOHN WICK X READER: The Courier

part one (part 2!)

authors note: this is my first drabble on tumblr, I do plan on making these into a small series! please lmk your thoughts if you’d like! thx 💕

summary: you are an up and coming courier for organized criminals. you bump into buzzed and confident John at a cocktail party while you’re in the middle of work, but you let him know you don’t have time for his games.

warnings: NSFW blurb, alcohol, cursing, motorcycles?

John wasn’t one for parties. Well, he pretended that he wasn’t one for parties. It’s part of the image, the gruff and tough hitman, best in the world. He had a reputation to uphold.

But he wouldn’t deny a good drink and some conversation every once in a while.

The bar and lounge area in the Continental was quite, well, bustling. Filled with assassins, crime lords, you name it. If they were someone in the criminal underworld in NYC, they were here tonight. John could feel the tension between gangs in the air, the rules of the hotel hung above everyone’s head.

No business conducted on hotel grounds.

Of course, no one dared to break that rule.

Here was John, in a congregation of hitmen that he has known over the past several decades. Chatting it up with booze in hand, and on their breath. Some would call them OGs. In the game long enough for people in the industry to know not to fuck with them. Especially John. These old dogs didn’t need new tricks, in fact, all of them had body counts that combined, would make the High Table shudder.

But of course, what comes up, eventually must come down. They were aging men. As early as their late 30s, and as late as their mid 50s. There was fresh meat lurking on the sidelines, waiting for their chance to be in the spotlight.

And that’s were she comes in.

Y/N.

New to the game. Well, fairly new. She wasn’t an expert, however, she was very good at what she did. Was she a killer for hire? Not exactly. Y/N had created an industry no one in the underworld knew was needed. In fact, it was very convenient.

An anonymous courier business.

You need to send over files but the Feds are on your ass and probably have acess to your fax machine? Call Y/N. She’ll be at your door in 20 minutes to drive across the city to deliver it for you. You forget it’s your wife’s birthday because you were too busy pile driving your side piece to remember? Y/N will pick up something for her at Target and get it to your door in an hour.

You get the idea.

Have a hard drive of the password to a Bitcoin account that’s worth 5 million dollars? Y/N will bring it to whoever needs it in the city, on her modified motorcycle, gun on hip and helmet on head, safe and sound. She had a perfect track record of delivering things for crime syndicates around New York City for the past year and a half.

Enemies? Not for Y/N. Every criminal group used her services. So much in fact, she had even hired a small team. She was growing. Slowly. But growing.

It wouldn’t take long for John to notice Y/N. In fact, he would take notice in a few moments, right after he took a large sip of his bourbon that he just had to have tonight. John was chuckling amongst colleagues, as he noticed Y/N walk into the lounge, seemingly with work on her mind. Her helmet was still on her head, and she wore a form fitting protective biker suit that matched everything she wore.

Black.

John frowned in confusion. He’s never seen anyone wear full motorcycle gear into the hotel before, much less one that was sort of crashing a party.

Y/N walked quickly, right up to the man himself, Winston. She wasted no time, unzipping her well organized backpack and handing Winston a protected manilla envelope, with god knows what inside. The elderly man smiled kindly at the helmeted woman, quickly signing some sort of touch screen device with his finger, before she efficiently put her bag back on over her shoulder, and began to walk away.

John raised his eyebrows at the sight. Who was that? He couldn’t help but form a soft but playful grin as his eyes danced around her figure that was covered by that riding suit.

“Any of you recognize that one?” John blurted during a discussion his friends were having. The men turned their heads towards Y/N, all chuckling softly.

“Yeah, Y/N. She works this delivery service for people like us in the city. Super under the table type stuff. You seriously haven’t heard of her?” Marcus asked, as John shook his head.

“No. I’m not familiar.” John huffed out. John was a curious man, and he just had to know more. So, enticed by this mystery woman, he wriggled through the thick crowd of guests to catch up to her. Before she could make it any closer to the door, John gave her a light tap on the shoulder. The woman jumped a bit, before turning around.

There he was. The man. The myth. The legend. John fucking Wick. Y/N almost froze in fear at the mere sight of the man who towered over her. She had to swallow the lump that formed in her throat.

John stared down at her, trying his best to look through the blacked out facial shield on her biker helmet. He was just itching to know what she looked like. Guess he’d do it himself. He was a man of little words after all. What was she going to do, fight him?

John took his large hands and placed them on her helmet, applying pressure and lifting it up and off of her head.

“H-hey! What the hell?” Y/N stuttered out, as John took a moment to study her delicate features.

Wow, she’s fairly easy on the eyes. John thought to himself as his eyes trailed all over her face. With nice cheekbones and gorgeous eyes, anyone who had sight could tell that this was a woman you could never forget. An impish smile curled onto the man’s lips, his very well maintained black beard framing his mouth to perfection. Y/N unintentionally took in his scent of patchouli and tobacco. Of course she could also smell the whiskey on his breath but that went without saying.

“Well, aren’t you just a pretty thing?” John hummed out softly at the young woman, as she grabbed her helmet and plucked it with force from his grip. It was clear that this infamous hitman had a few bourbons to drink already tonight, and he didn’t mind finding a pretty woman to take up to a hotel room after a few more.

Y/N grumbled as John bit his tongue to force himself not to say anything else in this moment.

I’ve only heard stories about this guy, scary ass stories. What a pain in my ass. Better deal with him so I don’t make an enemy.

John was maybe a decade or two older than her. Jesus christ. Y/N had daddy issues but this would be a whole other level if she decided to even pursue something like John.

“Sorry. I gotta go, still working.” Y/N spoke to him as professionally as possible. John displayed a perky smile on his face, his eyes racing with attraction.

Just look at her. I’d be crazy if I didn’t shoot my shot.

“You can’t do just one drink with me? I’m sure your client would understand if they knew who you were with.” John offered, gesturing towards the hotel lounge full of people.

Y/N laughed nervously, her heart racing at the mere sight of this man. The way this older man with obvious charisma was certainly getting to her.

And here John was, thinking about how pretty Y/N’s lips would look wrapped around his hard cock. Her head bobbing as he used his large strong hands to grab a fistful of hair, making her take him deeper into her throat each time. Maybe she’d gag and plead with him to be gentle. Maybe she’d be a total pro at it. Maybe a mix of both. With tears in her eyes as she whimpers in pain, while her legs trembled for John to make his way over to spread them apart for the real fun.

“I’m really sorry, I just have a few jobs-”

John’s long pointer finger swooped under her soft chin, lifting her face to meet his gaze. Y/N had no idea what to do, there has never been a man this forward towards her in her life. Just the thought of John’s touch alone made hundreds of women wet with excitement. Y/N knew she shouldn’t be one of them, it wasn’t smart mixing work and love.

As they say, don’t shit where you eat.

John could sense tension striking the area where they stood. Right now, there was nobody else in the room besides for this woman. He took her as a challenge, new blood. Young, pretty, and probably naive, right? Someone he could have a bit of fun with upstairs after he bought her a few drinks.

If John were sober right now, he would have probably said ‘goodbye’ in a polite and formal way, smiling as she left the building. John with some liquor in him though, was a completely different man. The rumors people spoke in the criminal underworld were true, this man though and though, was a total playboy.

So of course, when a new and unfamiliar pretty face in town crossed his path, he just had to have her. At least for the night. He was especially curious about what she had underneath that form fitting riding suit, not that it left too much up to the imagination.

Y/N cleared her throat.

“Right, uh, I’m gonna, uh, go.” Y/N mumbled, pulling away from John’s electrifying touch, taking a subtle deep breath. John blinked his brown eyes of his a few times, almost lost in his train of thought in the few moments that he had her in his gentle but firm grasp.

Before he knew it, she was hurrying out of the hotel doors. Y/N didn’t think twice to get out of that awkward/terrifying/intimate situation. So many emotions were flowing through her at once, her heart beating at about a mile a minute. It didn’t take long for her to climb onto her motorcycle, start it up, and peel off down the busy street, away from that god forsaken hotel.

And then there was John. Shocked, stunned even. A woman who didn’t immediately jump at the chance to have drinks with him? Unbelievable.

He could hear his group of fellow middle aged hitmen snicker at his failed attempt at picking up the woman, and all he could do was clench his jaw, and walk back to the bar.

They’d meet again. Of course. It would take some time, John was a patient man, and Y/N was a working woman. Their paths would eventually cross again, especially in the industry they were involved in.

And maybe, just maybe, John could have his chance with Y/N, and actually convince her to have that drink with him.

Even if it was just for some fun.

[webbo0]

The Rumble of the Engine

Luke Glanton x AFAB!Reader

Length: 5k words (longest yet!)

Summary: You tease Luke on his beloved Motorcycle, he returns the "favor"

Content/Warning: NSFW!! Teasing, Groping, Fingering, Cunnilingus, Handjob (kinda?), slight Dom/Sub dynamics (?), Smoking (it's Luke so obviously), Improper Use of Motorcycles, Dangerous/reckless driving

Authors Note: Happy Birthday Ryan!!🥳🎉 This is my late contribution to the Goosecord Birthday fanfiction Party (or whatever we're calling this). I've had Luke on the mind as always and figured he'd be perfect for my first attempt at writing smut. Feel free to leave any constructive criticisms you may have, I'm still a new writer

Finally, shout-out to the Goosecord as always! Y'all are amazing people and are always there to help me out, inspire me, or just plain make me happy 💕

Looking back, you knew where you had fucked up. Sure, maybe you brought this all upon yourself, but who could blame you? You dare anyone else to resist the temptation.

You had only met Luke a month or so ago, but you were both infatuated with each other. He’d looked at you, sitting near the tent where he did the death-defying, given you a long, burning once over, winked, and stuck a cigarette in his stupid, crooked smile. His hair was disheveled from his helmet, and with his jacket slung over his shoulder, he was showing off his many trashy tattoos. He honestly looked like kind of an asshole.

You needed him.

You had ended up in his trailer that night, arching your back as he fucked you, making you cum with almost expert precision. His grip on your hips was strong enough to leave bruises, and knowing the transient nature of fair workers, you thought his marks were all you would be left with. But after fucking you within an inch of your life, he had laid with you and almost shyly asked if he could see you again sometime soon.

He would be in town for another three months, and since the fair was only open three days a week and you had a flexible work schedule, you spent plenty of time together, getting to know each other's quirks.

You learned the hard way that Luke was pretty protective of his motorcycle.

You’d been talking (and flirting) behind his tent for a while, just enjoying the night breeze, and, in his case, a smoke. You had gotten a bolt of courage and walked over to the motorcycle he was leaning against and threw a leg over to awkwardly straddle the seat. He’d watched you with an amused smirk as you leaned towards him, his eyes darting to your hands wrapped around the handlebars.

But when you moved your wrist to rev the engine, his hand shot out, gripping you in a steel vice. Your breath hitched as he used his other hand to hold your chin and tilt your head to look him directly in his eyes.

His gaze was piercing, almost harsh, as he quietly murmured something about stressing the engine and hurting the exhaust. You couldn’t follow his words, frozen in place by his sudden intensity.

“Do you get me?” he had asked, thumb stroking your cheek where he still held your face in place. You clenched your thighs together in an attempt to quell the sudden rush of heat to your core.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” you had responded, slightly breathless.

Luke had nodded, hands still on you as his eyes roamed your face hungrily. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip before he brought you in for a searing kiss. You sighed into his mouth; he tasted strongly of cigarettes and fair food. You brought up the hand not clamped in his grip and threaded your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss.

Later that night as you writhed under his touch, you made a mental note that this was a dangerous (and fun) button to press with him.

And press it you did.

After that night, you bugged him constantly to teach you how to ride a motorcycle.

“Come on Luke, let me try just once. It’ll be fun!” you ask him one night as you cuddle in bed together.

“My motorcycle is my baby, Beautiful. It’s my only transportation and my only career.”

“I’m not going to wreck it, I just want to drive you around for once.”

He smiled at that, wrapping an arm around you and kissing your forehead.

“But you make such a good backpack!”

“Backpack?!” you almost yelled indigently. He just laughed and kissed you again, this time on your mouth, shutting you up.

But the backpack comment had stuck in your mind. Fine, if he thought you were a backpack, then by God you’d be the “best” backpack you could be.

Luke and his motorcycle had become your primary transportation by now; he drove you to work and back, to dates together, and, memorably once to your dentist,

Ever since his comment, though, you decided to take a more…active role as his backpack.

It started with just wrapping your arms around his torso lower than usual until you were gripping just above his belt. Then, during longer drives, let your hands start to wander; over his biceps, his pecs, and especially his broad thighs.

He gave you a look once you got to your destination, but you brushed him off.

After about a week of consistently groping him, you took a plunge.

You were on a country road, heading down towards the fair, your hands gently caressing his thighs.

As casually as you could, you slid your hand over the crotch of his jeans. You felt him take a deep breath, your chest flush with his back. You waited a minute, letting his breathing settle, then squeezed.

You nearly fell off the seat as Luke jerked his motorcycle before he corrected himself and steadied you both. You kept your hand on his dick until you got to your destination, stopping outside behind his trailer.

He nearly threw himself off the bike, spinning to face you as he took off his helmet.

“Care to explain yourself?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

You glanced down and saw that he was half-hard, and you had to suppress a smirk.

“Explain what?” you replied, furring your brow to add to the ‘I’m-totally-innocent’ look.

“Your show’s starting soon, better get ready!”

He growled but went inside to throw on his “Handsome Luke” outfit and get ready. He stormed out a few minutes later but stopped to give you a quick kiss. (He swears it’s only for good luck). He leaned down and whispered into your ear.

“Don’t start doing things you’re going to regret”

His erection had gone down, but a fire burned in his eyes. A smile crept onto your face.

“I can deal with the consequences”

He smirked but turned and marched towards the Cage of Death.

You thought for sure he’d get his revenge but he didn’t mention anything after his show that night.

So, not knowing to quit while you’re ahead, you teased him one more time. Actually, more like 3 more times. Each time you would discreetly grope him while you clung to his back, as he shuddered, his breath caught in his chest. And every time you finally got off the bike, you braced for retribution that never came. If you were smarter you would've realized he was just biding his time, waiting for the perfect time to strike.

Which led you to today.

You wake up in his bed, same as you have the past few weeks. He always wakes up first (his sleep schedule is truly terrible), and you usually awake to him blatantly staring at you.

Today however when you blink open your bleary eyes open he has a look on his face you don’t recognize. It was close to amusement, but you couldn’t quite pin it down. He smiles as he notices your eyes creaking open, and the mysterious look disappears, replaced with his usual mix of cockiness, adoration, and mischief.

“D’ya want me to learn how to ride my bike today?”

“Whatever happened to ‘Good Morning’” you grumble, sleep still clinging to your brain. Half a second later you process what he said.

“Wait, really?” Your body shoots up, almost smacking him on the nose. “Yes! Or course! It’s not like I’ve been asking for weeks or anything.”

He snorts a bit at your quick response and stands from the bed.

“I have some shit to do this morning and I know you have a shift too, but I’ll pick you up later tonight, alright?”

You nod and watch him as he dresses, your eyes roaming his muscular and heavily tatted torso. You stretch and get out of bed, already impatient for tonight.

Your work shift seems to last five times longer than usual, anticipation distracting you so badly that you nearly pour salt into someone’s coffee instead of sugar.

Finally, the clock chimes announcing 6 pm. You hurriedly clock out, practically tearing off your apron. You wave goodbye to your coworkers and walk outside to wait for Luke.

He’s already there waiting, leaning against his motorcycle smoking, red jacket slung over one shoulder. The sun is already setting behind him, and the golden light makes his bleach-blonde hair glow, almost like a halo. You smile widely and wave to him as you bound across the parking lot to greet him.

A wide grin creeps onto his face and he plucks the cigarette from his mouth, moving it out of the way to not get ash on you while he leans down to kiss you.

“Hello, Gorgeous, how was work?” He asked you the same question every time he picked you up, knowing you loved telling him all about the funny or infuriating customers you had that day (he would never admit it, but he loved listening to you talk too).

But you have other priorities today.

“Work was good, but I had other things on my mind,” you say in a faux accusatory tone.

He chuckles but hands you the helmet he always brings for you. You grab it and move to sit in the front of the motorcycle, but Luke grabs your arm, stopping you before you can.

“Woah, woah, slow down Baby, I’m not letting you kill all three of us crashing into traffic because you don’t know what you’re doing yet”

“Ok, ok, fi- Wait, all three? You did not just include your bike as a person, Luke.”

“Keep saying things like that and I’ll take back my offer.” He arches an eyebrow, “Now get on. Behind me.”

You wisely shut your mouth and climb on after him, sliding the helmet over your head. You watch the sun get lower and lower in the sky as Luke drives you both outside of town, past his trailer, and to a large clearing behind the fair.

“Smart,” you comment as the bike slows to a halt, “Nothing for me to crash into out here.”

Luke doesn’t say anything, but the mysterious look returns to his face for a moment. He almost looks…predatory? He blinks and it’s gone as fast as it had appeared. Ah, well, you have other things to worry about.

“So, can I sit in the front now?” you’re practically bouncing with excitement.

“You sure can”

You squeal and toss your leg over the back, wobbling before gaining your balance. You don’t grab the handlebars yet; you learned that lesson the hard way.

Luke, instead of standing in front of the bike to give you pointers like you expected, climbs on right behind you. With his chest firmly pressed against your back, he reaches his arms around you, grabbing your hands and bringing them to the handlebars. With a flick of your wrist, the engine roars to life, and three things become immediately apparent to you.

One, the pants you’re wearing are a lot thinner than you thought.

Two, you had neglected to put on underwear this morning in your rush to get ready. On their own, those two facts wouldn't be a problem if not for the third and most pressing issue.

The motor of the motorcycle must be right under the seat, because the vibrations of the engine were going straight to your poorly protected core.

Your breath catches slightly at the sensations, but you hide your reaction well. This would just have to be a distraction you ignored if you wanted to learn anything tonight. Luke either doesn’t notice your reaction or is ignoring it because he starts explaining the controls to you casually. You pay attention the best you can as you feel yourself getting more and more aroused, his voice low in your ear certainly not helping.

You put your feet on the foot holds as he explains how to brake, and then with his urging you bring the motorcycle to a slow crawl forward.

“Good job, Baby” Luke purrs in your ear, the feeling of his breath against your skin makes you shiver, “Just start making small circles to get the feel of it.”

A newfound feeling of confidence surges through you as you carefully maneuver the bike around the field, picking up some speed. The engine rumbles harder every time you rev the throttle and you clench your thighs around the seat, hoping Luke doesn’t notice.

As you gain the feeling for the machine, Luke gives you more pointers, helping you accelerate, brake, and make more complex movements. The whole time his grip never leaves your torso, but you notice he starts to grip you lower and lower. Must be to let me move around better.

Your assumptions are quickly proven wrong though, when while you are cruising along, feeling comfortable driving, one arm slides up to hold you across the chest, pressing him even more firmly against his broad chest. The other hand moves until it's gripping right where your hip meets your thigh. You feel the energy shift.

“You know, people have different reactions to riding a bike for the first time,” his hand on your hip is making small patterns, “Some are afraid, some go overboard with the feeling of power, and some are cool as a cucumber.” You take a deep, unsteady breath as his fingers trail toward your belly button.

“But you,” he continues, hand moving slowly and steadily down your lower stomach, “Are the first person I’ve met to get turned on just from revving the engine.”

You gasp as he cups your crotch, pressing the heel of his palm right against your most sensitive spot. You nearly swerve and fall off the bike, but his arms keep you steady.

“Do you think I didn’t notice those teasing touches you kept doing, did you think I’d just let that slide?” he growls, punctuating his sentence with a slow grind of his hand that makes you let out a low moan.

“Luke I’m, I’m sorry” you gasp out “I- I didn’t mean to-”

“It's a bit too late for forgiveness now, Baby, but it's ok. We’ll make this a learning experience,”

You relax slightly as he removes his hand from your core until he starts toying with the waistband of your pants and you realize how fucked you really are.

”Now you’re going to drive us both home and since you seem to think it’s perfectly fine to tease someone who’s controlling a 400-pound death machine, you clearly won’t mind if I return the favor. You won’t let us crash right?”

You weekly nod in response, resigning yourself to whatever plans he had. Not like you could break out of his grip if you wanted to; his biceps were nearly as big as your thighs.

Revving the engine (and flushing an even deeper shade of red when the vibrations tease you even more), you turn the bike onto the road back to his trailer. You go much slower than he would, as both of your helmets are off.

Luke keeps one hand around your chest, but his other hand slowly creeps below your waistband, heading toward your aching core.

You feel him hum in approval as he realizes you aren’t wearing anything underneath, and his lips brush against your neck. He dips a finger between your folds, feeling the wetness that must’ve soaked through the fabric of your pants by now.

“All this for me? I’m flattered, really”

You whine as he starts to circle your clit slowly and consistently, and his teeth catch on your shoulder. He sucks down on your skin and you know you’ll have a bright red hickey there tomorrow, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You concentrate on the road the best you can, thankful that there aren’t any stop signs or street lights because you don’t know if you would've noticed them at all. Your breath is coming out ragged, but you hold the bike steady, not wanting to risk crashing.

Luke doesn't let up his assault on your cunt, fingers slowly increasing speed as they tease your sensitive nub. His mouth is trailing along your neck, leaving marks wherever he goes. He touches you with practiced ease and you slowly start to buck into his hand, chasing the pleasure shooting through you.

His arm around you tightens again holding you still, and you whine in frustration.

“Now now, can't have you tipping us over” The amusement in his tone is clear and you huff, annoyed at how much he's enjoying tormenting you. But he just continues his relentless teasing, making you shudder and let out sounds you only made in his bedroom.

After what feels like forever (but is probably only 15 minutes), you pull up behind his trailer. It's a slow day at the fair and he lives on the far end, away from most attractions, but a jolt still goes through your spine at the thought of someone finding you there, helpless to his touch.

You move to get off the bike, but Luke’s grasp keeps you in place, his fingers never faltering.

“Luke,” you pant out, “someone could see u- mmf!” You let out a surprised shout that's muffled by his hand previously around your chest covering your mouth.

“Well then, you better keep that pretty mouth shut for me, right? Wouldn't want everyone knowing how much of a slut you are for me” his voice is harsh in your ear and you let out a drawn-out moan, his words just adding to the fire rushing through your veins.

He pauses his movements and you momentarily think he's finally finished taunting you. His hips shift behind you, pushing your own hips forward a bit. You feel him shudder behind you and realize his crotch is now pressed very tightly against your lower back. You can feel his dick through his sweatpants as he grinds into you, clearly as turned on as you are.

You gasp into his hand, attention brought back to your cunt as he slowly pushes two fingers into you. You're so aroused that he can slide them in with little resistance, your wetness welcoming him. The pads of his fingers are rough from wear, and they feel incredible as he drags them back and forth inside of you.

You can't help the noises that escape you, muffled behind the steady hold of his hand against your mouth. Luke lets out a moan that's more like a rumble deep in his chest as he grinds his cock against you. His thumb returns to your clit, adding to the pleasure building in your center. You jerk forward, the feeling almost too intense for you to handle.

He stops his movements abruptly, pulling his hand out of your pants. You nearly sob in frustration. He turns your head to look you in the eye, hand still over your mouth. His pupils are so blown that the blue of his eyes is nearly gone. He looks ravenous.

“Are you starting to learn your lesson?”

You nod quickly, and he smirks.

“Good. But I'm not finished with you,”

Luke brings the hand that was just buried deep inside you to his mouth, sucking your juices off. He lets out a moan at your taste and you feel lightheaded. His fingers leave his mouth with a pop and you wish they were back in you.

“Now, we're going to go back inside my trailer and I'm going to finish what you started. And maybe if you're good, I'll let you cum, ok?”

You nod your head again, desperate to feel him again. He takes his hand off your mouth and you let out a loud breath, nearly panting.

He gets off the bike and holds out his hand to help you. You're shaky and unsteady, but you dismount without issue. The last thing you want to do is feel his wrath if you knock it over. He brings your face to his for a passionate kiss. You sigh into him as his hand threads through your hair to deepen the kiss, opening your lips to let his tongue explore your mouth.

Luke breaks the kiss and searches your face, looking for any sign he was going too far. You smile at him and bite your lip, letting him know you are A-OK with everything happening. His face softens for a moment and he smiles a crooked smile back at you, before the hungry look returns to his eyes and he tugs you up the stairs of his trailer.

You both get in as he shuts the door, already shedding his torn-up shirt. You tear off your clothes and clamber onto his bed. He stalks towards the bed, and nearly pounces on you as he climbs on after you, legs between yours as he holds his body above you.

He dips his head down to kiss you as his hands greedily roam your body, nails scraping slightly as he trails them over you. You moan into his mouth as one hand grabs your chest, kneading into the skin. He flicks your nipple, making you gasp and arch your back.

“God you’re gorgeous like this,” he murmurs as his gaze travels song your naked form, “I could keep you here like this for hours”

You keen at his words, your hands wrapped around his torso to keep him pressed against you, hoping he forgets about his ‘revenge plans’.

No such luck though, as he grabs your wrists with one hand and pins them above your head.

“It’s time you learned a little lesson about touching, so here’s how this is going to go; I’m going to enjoy myself and make you feel good, while you keep your hands right here the whole time, understand?”

You whine but nod, not trusting yourself to say anything that might wind him up more. He knows how much you love to touch him; running your hand through his hair, scraping your nails against his back, or just tracing each of his many tattoos. This was going to be hard.

Luke releases his grip on your wrists, and you dutifully keep them above your head. He smiles a dangerous smile.

“Good job, Baby.”

He kisses you one last time before he sits up and crawls off the bed. He leans forward to grab your hips and you yelp in surprise as he drags you to the end of the bed, your legs hanging off the edge. He moves forward until his still-clothed crotch presses onto your sensitive cunt, making you shiver. You move your hips, grinding on his dick that was so hard it must’ve been painful. He groans, but grabs your waist, pinning it still.

He leans down and kisses right in the center of your chest, then starts trailing his way down your torso, kissing and nipping at your skin as he does so. You let out breathy moans and sighs as his lips leave marks all over you, but keep your hands still, resisting the urge to touch him.

As he gets to your lower stomach, Luke kneels down, hands still gripping your hips. He shifts his attention to your inner thighs, bruising the sensitive skin beneath his teeth. You’re trembling, trying to maintain some form of composure as you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter.

Finally, he stops and you let yourself catch your breath before you feel the tip of his nose bump against your pubic bone. You look down and your breath hitches when you see him staring up at you, desire glaringly obvious in his eyes. Every instinct inside of you wants to reach down and tangle your fingers in his beautiful blonde hair, but the last coherent part of your mind resists.

That last fragment of coherence leaves you immediately though, when he sticks his tongue out and licks a long stripe up your folds. You throw your head back and let out a low groan as he steadily moves his tongue over your aching center with expert precision. For a man with such a tough exterior, you were always shocked at how softly Luke speaks, and equally as shocked at how adept he was using his mouth.

You’re lost in the feeling of his mouth working you closer and closer to your release when he latches onto your clit and sucks. Your gasp is cut off with a cry as he pushes two thick fingers into you again, curling them into the spot he knows will make you see stars. Your back arches and you reach down to grab his blonde locks, trying to steady yourself any way you can.

Luke removes his mouth from you and tsks, then bites down hard on the inside of your thigh. You almost sob, needing to touch him so badly you could cry, but you release your grip on him and reluctantly put your arms above you again.

He hums, satisfied, and goes back to sucking on your clit making you whimper. He adds a third finger pumping in and out of your glistening pussy, and you can practically feel his smirk when you attempt to clench your thighs close around him.

He hums again, and the vibrations on your sensitive nub combined with the precision of his fingers inside of you is too much to bear.

“Luke it’s- it’s too much,” You’re gasping with every breath, the tension in your core about to explode “I’m- I’m gonna-”

“Shhhh, it’s ok Baby, you’re doing so good for me. Let me hear those gorgeous sounds; I want to taste you as you cum for me.”

His soft words, combined with his mouth returning to suck on your clit and his fingers curling inside you finally tip you over the edge, the tension coiled in your lower stomach exploding across your body. You cum with a loud moan, crying out for Luke as you do. His fingers and mouth don’t stop, working you through the aftershocks until it becomes overstimulating and you tap the side of his head for mercy.

Luke withdraws from between your legs, carefully pulling out his fingers and giving your pussy one last kiss before he stands. You’re still catching your breath as you watch him, looking pointedly at his crotch.

He still has sweatpants on, and they do nothing to hide his achingly hard dick or the wet patch that's formed by the tip. You bite your lip, wanting to return the favor.

“That looks painful. Need a hand with it?” You sit up and move a hand to cup his dick, but his hand darts out and stops your wrist before you can make contact.

“I thought we learned a lesson on not touching without permission, hmm?”

You pout, but put your hand down to your side.

‘What, you’re just going to ignore that then?”

Luke chuckles but lets out a small gasp when his dick twitches, still confined in the fabric of his pants.

“I’m going to take care of this all by myself, and you’re going to sit there and look pretty while I cum all over you, sound good?”

He’s saying it as a question, but the dark look in his eyes when you tilt your head up to look at him lets you know there’s no making him budge on this. You swallow thickly and nod.

“Good, now just sit still and let me look at you,”

Luke pushes his waistband down, finally freeing his dick. He’s harder than you’ve ever seen him, steadily leaking precum from the flushed head of his cock. He uses the hand previously inside of you to slowly stroke his length, coating himself in your slick. You let out a small moan at the sight, wishing you were enveloping him, not his hand.

He increases the speed of his strokes, eyes roaming your naked form. He’s muttering words under his breath that you can barely hear, but you catch a snippet.

“...so gorgeous, so good for me, God, I love seeing you all fucked-out and wrecked like this…”

You notice his panting getting faster and his movements becoming erratic, as he approaches his climax.

“It’s ok, cum for me, Luke” You copy his soft tone, coaxing him over the edge.

He gasps out your name, eyebrows furrowed and teeth gritted as he cums with a growl, shooting his release all over your chest and stomach. You hum in approval, letting him calm down and catch his breath.

He tucks himself back into his pants, leans down to plant a kiss on your forehead, and then disappears into the bathroom. You collapse back onto the bed, exhaustion creeping into your bones. He returns after a minute with a damp washcloth and bends over to clean you up. You try to sit up to help him but he gently presses his hand against your chest, keeping you down.

“Shh, it’s ok. Let me take care of you.”

You’re more than glad to let Luke take the lead, unsure if your legs could even support you if you tried to stand. He finishes wiping you clean, taking extra care to be gentle around your now overly sensitive cunt. When he’s done he sets the cloth aside and kicks off his boots (has he really been wearing them the whole time?).

He crawls into bed next to you, bringing an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer onto his chest. You gladly curl into him, happy that you can finally feel him against you. You let out a yawn, the long day and energetic evening finally catching up with you. Luke presses another kiss onto your forehead.

“So, did we learn our lesson?” he asks, his tone soft and lighthearted. You giggle and snuggle closer, your eyelids drooping.

“Not sure, might have to teach me a couple more times.”

Luke snorts out a laugh and starts tracing little patterns on your shoulder with his thumb. You drift off to sleep in his arms, dreaming of motorcycles, the smell of cigarettes, and the love of your life holding your hand.

[generic-sonic-fan]

The Sonic Crew, 40 Years Later-

Just one of many possibilities, of course, but I challenged myself to imagine what Sonic's crew and Team Dark might look like when they're older. Long post beneath the cut:

Sonic

The one who changed the least

Still an absolute daredevil with a heart of gold

All that running and frequent injuries did a number on his knees and he started using knee braces and a cane/crutches in his late 20s

(it took him a while to be okay with this, but he's over that now)

(He can still run if needed, but he'll be hurting for a few days after.)

Gets his need for speed by racing cars, motorcycles, the Tornado, and by skydiving

Still LOVES helping people and spends a lot of time volunteering

Yes, he's still signing autographs

He's got a permanent home now, mostly to store the Tornado and his other vehicles. He took over Tails' workshop when the fox left for greener pastures and likes keeping the place fixed up.

He's been reading a lot more. Now that he's got a permanent place, his library collection is massive

He's just taking it one day at a time, man. Always has, always will

Tails

The one who changed the most

He owns a garage in the city now, with a sign on the door that says "Prower's inventions and tinker shop"

He always knew that he wanted to sell the things he made, but he had absolutely zero interest in the business side of things outside of running social media accounts

So he's gone indie! He's almost more of an artist and influencer than a world-class inventor, but don't let that fool you

He's still selling his patents to top companies and making a crapton of money

(he's the second most well-off of the friend group aside from Rouge.)

So how's he changed?

He's lost a lot of his childlike innocence, become increasingly more focused on people's perception of him and making online content

and ultimately, he chose technology over the outdoors

Sonic kinda knew that sort of thing was inevitable, but it still hurt when Tails decided to move to the big city and stop exercising as much

But he's very happy where he is and how he's living, and he and Sonic still catch up with each other frequently

Knuckles

Still guarding the Master Emerald!

But he's really learned how to do more with his life despite staying on one island for most of his time

Tails finally convinced him to install enough technology to keep him connected to the world below

Since then, Knuckles has become the number one expert on Echidna anthropology/archaeology in the world

He's written several books using speech-to-text technology

(it's been difficult work- he's not the best reader or writer, but he put the effort in and now he's a published author!)

When he's not writing or giving talks on Echidna culture over video call, he's still taking care of Angel Island, growing his own food, and making more discoveries about ancient Echidna culture. That much hasn't changed

Ever since the defeat of Eggman, he's more willing to take vacations off of Angel Island, but it's still a rare occurence

He usually notifies the friend group via group chat whenever he plans on coming down for a visit, often resulting in reunions

Amy

Amy absolutely "settled down" and opened the bakery she's always wanted to open

Unlike Tails, she LOVES the business side of things along with the actual baking

Her bakery is one of the most famous in the city she lives in now

She loves the thrill of commanding the kitchen staff and managing all the tasks that go into producing good pastries!

She also developed a love for children, and spoils any child in her vicinity rotten

And she has kids of her own, duh

She helps organize and moderate the group chat for the old friend group

And she loves coordinating visits/reunions

Her house is always open to anybody and everybody. She loves entertaining guests, especially if they're old friends

Her house is SO cute and homey it's almost overbearing

When her kids have kids she is going to be the sweetest grandma ever

Rouge

Already detailed in this post here!

Shadow

He's matured a lot, finally having enough wisdom to act as "the wise immortal"

He's become a nomad, sort of like how Sonic used to be, except he takes things at a much slower pace

(he retired from GUN and absolutely had a midlife crisis. this is the result)

He keeps diligent journals of every place he visits, food he tries, people he meets, and so on

He's picked up on Sonic's hobby of learning languages due to his travels

He's gotten much better at socializing with strangers but still prefers solitude

. . . but he still carries a phone on him and participates (albeit rarely) in the old friend group chat

(Rouge and Omega have him on speed dial, of course. He'll drop everything at their beck and call, even if it's a simple "I miss you")

He's gotten more interested in some more esoteric stuff that would've made his younger self cringe, like poetry and spirituality

The world knows him as a bit of cryptid, lol

Omega

Unlike Shadow, he's not retired!

He left GUN and became a freelance operator. Kind of a mercenary, except he has just a touch more discretion than that

(His version of a midlife crisis happened when he finally killed Eggman circa 30 or so years ago. Those were some messy, messy times, but since then he's made peace with his continued existence)

He is still Angry, of course, but he's a lot more chill than he used to be. Sometimes this throws Shadow for a loop.

His ego, though ever-present, has been tempered by age

Mostly because he kinda thinks his younger self was a bit cringe??

Mention the word "Meatbag" and he'll get stoically embarrassed about it

Anyways, he's also a nomad, traveling the world to do jobs and stopping by Tails' garage for repairs

He stops by Rouge's house often, and meets up with Shadow at least once a month

("YOU ARE THE FOOLISH ORGANICS THAT CONVINCED ME OF THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP. YOU ARE NOT GETTING RID OF ME SO EASILY.")

[impala-dreamer]

Crazy On You (Sneak Peek)

A Tale from The MCU

~ On a trip up state, things get a little spicy when the rumble of Bucky's engine gets you going...~

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

2,158 Words

Warnings: NSFW, Exhibitionism (Sex in a Public Place), Oral, Fingering, Sexy Stuff. 

Wind is whipping around you with hurricane force, stinging as it hits your exposed cheeks. It prickles your skin and sweeps the hair off of your neck. It’s cold and invasive, but it feels good as the summer sun beats down upon your shoulders. The wind and heat fight for dominance and your body is the battleground.

A bump in the road jerks your spine and you lean forward, arms tightening around Bucky’s waist. He’s steering the motorcycle with expert precision, but he’s no match for the pothole-marred blacktop of New York State. Another dip makes you gasp and he cocks his head back a bit, yelling over the wind.

“You OK back there?”

You give him a squeeze and press your chin to his shoulder. The metal beneath his leather jacket gives you pause, but it doesn’t bother you- it’s just another reminder of how remarkable he is.

“I’m great!” you holler back. “But this road sucks!”

He smiles into the wind and leans slightly to the left, following the curve of the road. The Sawmill River Parkway is treacherous and exciting.

“Well, hold on, Doll,” he warns. “It only gets worse!”

KEEP READING ONLY ON PATREON

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Captain Marvel: Part Seven

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Warnings: canon violence and angst

Author’s Note: For the sake of the rewrite, Howard and Maria Stark dies on December 16, 1997 instead of 1991. Tony is 23 when they die.

x

The internet is a widely popular thing where people can use a computer to look up information readily available at their fingertips. The only places where computer use is free or at very little charge are local libraries. You take Vers to the closest one and over to the nearest computer. You're not used to using one of these, but it looks like something Howard Stark used in his labs.

Plus, you're an expert at using a typewriter.

"How are you doing that?" she gasps when your fingers swiftly fly over the keyboard.

"As I said, I've been here before." The only thing that pops up when you search the name "Pancho's" is a bar that's down south. You tap the screen with a smile on your face. "This is where we need to go."

"How are we gonna get there?"

"By using a map, darling. Come on."

You log off the computer and buy a map from the front desk. It's a localized map of California, so you can use this to track down the bar. As you two are looking at the map, a motorcycle rumbling noise comes closer until it's right next to you. He sees you two and revs his engine with a smirk.

"Nice scuba suit," he comments about Vers' outfit. Both you and her look at the man before going back to the map. "Lighten up, sweethearts. Got a smile for me?" When he gets no response from you, he shuts his motorcycle off with a scoff. "Freaks."

"What do you say we go for a ride?" you grin when he leaves his motorcycle alone.

"You know how to ride one of those?"

"Baby, it's all I rode in the 40s. My boyfriend taught me. First, we need to change. He's right, we do look like freaks." You notice a store across the street with mannequins on display outside of it. "Shall we?"

It's fairly easy to steal clothes off unsupervised mannequins from a store with no security measures. It's even easier to steal a motorcycle from a man who leaves the keys in the ignition. Vers gets on behind you and wraps her arms around your waist right before you take off down the road.

Yes, you could get to Pancho's faster by flying, but it's nice to enjoy the scenic route when there isn't someone chasing you or trying to kill you. It's nice to see how much Earth has changed since you left. Granted, you haven't been on the West Coast in centuries, so it's nice to see how the oceans look compared to back then.

The drive from Northern California to Los Angeles is a long one, but you manage to make to Pancho's with the sun still out. This place is definitely old school but you figured that's why you love it so much. There isn't anyone inside the bar but since Skrulls be anywhere anytime, you have to be careful.

There are pictures on the wall that Vers is attracted to, pictures with the same aircraft logo you saw on the purple device you stole from the Skrull.

"What can I get ya?" the bartender asks.

"Where was this photograph taken?"

"At an airport?"

"Where's Pegasus?" she asks.

"That's classified. Not unlike the file I started on you two." Agent Fury stands at the entrance of the bar. The bartender senses tension, so he does the smart thing and walks to the back. "I see you traded in the laser tag outfit for this. Grunge is a good look on you two."

"Did you have a rough day Agent Fury?"

"It's cool. You know, space invasion, big car chase, and got to watch an alien autopsy. Typical nine to five."

"So, you saw one?" you ask.

"I was never one to believe in aliens, but I can't unsee that."

"This is gonna get a little awkward but I gotta ask," Vers trails off.

"You think I'm one of those green things?"

"Can't be too careful," you shrug and sit with him and Vers at a table.

"You are looking at one hundred percent red-blooded Earthman."

"I'm afraid we're gonna need proof."

"Are we talking cheek swabs or urine samples?"

"No. The DNA would match," you comment. "Skrulls can only sim recent memories of their host bodies."

"Oh, oh! You wanna get personal," he grins and nods for you to start.

"Where were you born?" you ask.

"Huntsville, Alabama, but technically I don't remember that part."

"Name of your first pet."

"Mr. Snuffers."

"Mr. Snuffers?" Vers chuckles.

"That's what I said. Did I pass?"

"Not yet. First job?"

"Soldier straight out of high school. I got the ranks of full-bred Colonel."

"Then?"

"Spy."

"Where?"

"It was the Cold War and we were everywhere. Belfast, Bucharest, Belgrade, and Budapest. I like the B's. I can make them rhyme."

"Now?"

"I've been riding a desk for the past six years trying to figure out where our future enemies are coming from. It never occurred to me that they'd be coming from above," he says and points to the ceiling to represent space.

"Name a detail so bizarre a Skrull could never fabricate it," you ask and lean in closer.

"If toast is cut diagonally, I can't eat it," he says. "You didn't need that did you?"

"No, I didn't, but we enjoyed it," you giggle.

"Okay, your turn. Prove you two aren't Skrulls," Fury asks. 

Without a second though, Vers blasts an energy blast towards the jukebox on the opposite side of the room. You move your right hand in a circular motion and a pool of water forms above it. Once big enough, you evaporate it so it's no longer there.

"How is that supposed to prove to me that you two aren't Skrulls?"

"That was a photon blast."

"I just manipulated water out of thin air."

"And...?"

"A Skrull can't do that. So, a full-bred Colonel turned spy turned SHIELD agent must have pretty high-security clearance. Where's Pegasus?" Vers asks.

Fury doesn't respond to you, so you lean in close with a threatening smile on your face.

"Take us to Pegasus or we'll find someone who will," you say seriously.

Fury sees an opportunity to get to know you and Vers, so he agrees to take you and Vers to the super-secret location.

"So, the Skrulls are an alien race that infiltrates and overtakes alien planets? You two are Kree? A race of noble warriors?" Fury asks as he drives through the desert.

"Heroes. Noble warrior heroes," Vers corrects.

"Well, she's Kree," you speak up from the backseat.

"What are you?"

"Xenian. My planet is on the other side of the universe. I'm also a shapeshifting Avatar that can control the elements. No, I'm not a Skrull."

"Okay, um, what do the Skrulls want with Dr. Lawson?"

"They believe she developed a light-speed engine at Pegasus."

"Light speed engine? I've got to admit, that's not the craziest thing I've heard today."

"Well, it's still early," you chuckle.

"What about you two? What do you want?"

"To stop the Skrulls before they become unstoppable."

"And...?" You and Vers are silent at his question. "Look, war is a universal language. I know a couple of rogue soldiers when I see one. You two have a personal stake in this."

"More so than others," you mutter.

Fury pulls up to the perimeter gate where there is a box meant for communicating to the main tower.

"This is a government property, turn your vehicle around," an officer says through the intercom.

"Nicholas Joseph Fury, Agent of SHIELD," Fury says and takes out his badge to show it to the camera.

"Place your thumb on the pad." When Fury did, the pad begins scanning his fingerprint. "One moment."

"Nicholas Joseph Fury. You have three names?" Vers asks.

"Everybody calls me Fury. Not Nicholas, not Joseph, not Nick. Just Fury."

"What does your mom call you?"

"Fury."

"What do you call her?"

"Fury."

"What about your kids?"

"If I have them, they'll call me Fury."

"You're cleared for access," the officer says.

"Thank you."

The gate opens and Fury drives down the long driveway into a tunnel that leads him into a parking lot of sorts where he is the only car there. You're about to head inside with Vers when Fury stops both of you.

"Hold up. You two look like somebody's disaffected niece." He grabs two gray SHIELD baseball caps and tosses them to you two. "Put these on."

"What is this?"

"It's the SHIELD logo."

"Does announcing your identity on clothing help with the covert part of your job?"

"Said the space soldier who was wearing a rubber suit. Lose the flannel." Vers takes off the flannel that is wrapped around her waist, and you two follow the Agent to the end of the car park that overlooks an airplane hangar full of planes. A security guard from Pegasus and two armed airmen approaches you three carefully.

"How can I help you?"

"We're agents of SHIELD," Fury announces and hands over his credentials. "We're looking for a woman named Dr. Wendy Lawson. Do you know her?"

"Follow me."

The officers lead you into the building and into a small room that looks like a waiting room. When he closes the door with only you three inside, you knew he has no intention of bringing you to Dr. Lawson even if she was here.

"Are you two familiar with the phrase 'Welcome Wagon'?"

"No."

"Well, this ain't it."

He places his thumb on the fingerprint scanner attached to the doorknob, but it won't give him access to unlock the door. Fury grabs a small device from his pocket, and Vers perks up at the sight of it.

"Is that a communicator?"

"Yeah. State-of-the-art two-way pager."

"Who are you paging?" you wonder.

"My mom. Don't worry, I didn't mention you two." 

Vers tries using her fingerprint on the scanner even though she knows it's not going to work. There is a map of the facility on the wall that she checks out, so you decide to try your turn at the scanner. Instead of using your own DNA, you shift into the guard that took you in here knowing his fingerprint is going to work. Just like you thought, the light turns green, and the lock disengages.

"I got it."

Vers and Fury jump back from shock at your deep voice.

"What in the hell...?" Fury mutters.

You transform back into yourself and open the door with a smile.

"Easy peasy lemon squeezy. My powers aren't totally useless here."

"Impressive," Vers grins.

With the map in hand, you head to the nearest elevator so you can check out the archives. If any place is going to have information on Pegasus and Dr. Lawson, it's the archives. Immediately after stepping off the elevator, an orange cat appears and rubs all over Fury's leg.

"Hey, there. How are you?" Fury fawns over the small animal. He leans down to pet her, and Vers watches with a strange sense of déjà vu. "Oh, my goodness. Look at you. Just look at you. Aren't you the cutest little thing? Aren't you cute? What's your name, huh? What's your name?" Fury looks at her collar. "Goose? Cool name for a cool cat."

"Fury," you say with a smile. "Are you done?"

"Yeah." The door to the archives is protected by another fingerprint scanner, and Fury turns to you. "Are you gonna do what you did last time?"

Vers shoots an energy blast at the scanner. That's one way of unlocking a door. The archives room is completely dark but the further you walk in, the lights turn on since they are motion censored. There are hundreds of shelves with hundreds of boxes of all different types of information, but the only thing you're interested in is Wendy Lawson. They are in alphabetical order, so you head over to the 'L' section for Lawson.

"I found it," Vers says and removes the box about her. "Here's Lawson's plan for the light-speed engine." At the bottom right of the plans is a stamp concurring that the project was terminated. "I wonder why they terminated the project."

You grab a small notebook and go through the pages, but you don't recognize the language.

"What the hell is this?"

"Those are Kreeglyphs. She was Kree?"

"She's dead," Fury announces.

"What?"

"She crashed the ASIS aircraft during an unauthorized test flight and took a pilot down with her. That's why security here's so unfriendly. They're covering up a billion-dollar mistake. Oh, and your light-speed engine is toast." 

He shows you the papers in his hands that confirm his story. There is a black-and-white photo of the crash site. It was taken from a satellite between a beach and a mountain, and there are tracks leading up to the circle caused by the explosion. The next photo is of the beach from eye level; the sand was pushed up into large ridges by the explosion.

"When did this happen?" Vers whispers.

"Six years ago. 1989."

"Who was the pilot?" you ask.

"Most of this thing is redacted, but there is a testimonial here from someone named Maria Rambeau. She's the last person to see them both alive." Fury's pager buzzes to life, but he catches the look on Vers' face before he could answer it. "Are you okay?"

"Mm-hmm," she nods stiffly.

"I'll be back in a minute."

Fury leaves, and Vers searches the box for more information on what happened. There is a photograph of Dr. Lawson, Maria, and another pilot near an airplane, but the one person who you and Vers stare at is Vewrs who was getting ready to board the plane. She was involved in the accident at some point, but you have no idea what happened to her and how she got involved with the Kree. You look back at the notebook and flip some more pages, and you stop on one that has a familiar-looking drawing.

"Vers, what does this say?" you ask and show her the notebook.

"It's the energy core that she used to build her engine with. She calls it the Tesseract." Your whole body shakes with shock, and your knees buckle underneath you. "Whoa, are you okay?"

"The Tesseract is what runs through my veins. It's why I can manipulate the elements."

"I wonder if it connects you and me. Maybe we share the same power. The Tesseract must run through both of our bodies, but we have different powers because you have another serum inside you.

"I'll be right back."

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[britany1997]

Hiiii✨

Let me start by saying i love and enjoy your writing so muchhh and your content is just nddndjdndhdjegdu :'))

This is my first request so hope i am doing it at least decently so so so how about a mechanic/ motorbike enthusiast reader interacting with the lost boys, like they have a problem with one of the bikes and the reader comes up and is like "hey i can help let me just" and fixes it, and the boys are like 😶 we keeping this one ....

It could be a fem or gn reader !

Hope u like the idea and yet again thank you so much for existing ❤️❤️❤️

Rev Your Engines

Hi! Thank you so much for your kind words!!! Encouragement of my writing is always appreciated🥹🫶 I hope you like this! Sorry it took so long

Poly! Lost boys x GN Reader

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

David checked his watch as he tossed a drained corpse off the dock unceremoniously. “Five AM boys, sun rises in a little over an hour, time to head back.” He ordered.

Paul groaned, his fangs still deep in the neck of a tall brunette. He ripped his mouth free and disposed of the girl, “we have over an hour!” he argued, “it takes fifteen minutes tops to get back to the cave from the boardwalk.”

“Yeah,” Marko chimed in, “we’re wasting moonlight if we go back now.”

“We’re going now,” David said sternly, “the last time we risked it Paul was almost a pile of ash in a fishnet shirt, now let’s go.” With that, David snapped and gestured to the two blonds, prompting Dwayne to grab them both by the collar and drag them along the dock.

“I hate when he does this,” Marko told Paul grimacing.

“Uh, yeah,” Paul said while readjusting his pants.

Once the boys had arrived at the spot where their bikes were parked, the vampires each hopped on and reved their engines.

Except for Marko, whose bike seemed determined to strand him at the boardwalk. He stuck the key in the ignition and flipped the engine kill switch: nothing. The bike cranked but the engine wouldn’t start.

Marko growled in frustration, while David checked his watch

“We don’t have time for this,” David spit.

Marko glared at him, “it’s five-thirty David, calm your tits,” He countered.

Dwayne crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, “we may have a couple minutes before suns up, but we don’t have time for you to try and fail to fix your bike. Leave it,” he said.

Marko rolled his eyes and put his kickstand back down. “Well how the fuck am I supposed to get home then? I can’t walk now can I? And flying this close to sunrise is risky, even for me.”

“You can ride with me bud!” Paul chimed in.

Marko shot him a disgusted look, “ride bitch?” he asked, “yeah fat chance,” he grumbled.

“It’s either that or you burn up,” David shrugged.

“I’d rather die.” Marko said through gritted teeth.

David rolled his eyes and Dwayne pinched the bridge of his nose.

Marko groaned, “Paul, this is stupid, I’ll take your bike and you can ride on the back.”

“WHAT?!” Paul exclaimed as Marko attempted to pull him off the motorcycle, “dude it’s my bike!”

“Paul if you don’t move your ass I could die,” Marko told him frowning.

“Then perish,” Paul deadpanned.

Marko lunged at Paul, throwing him from his bike and pinning him to the ground. They rolled around on the boardwalk trading blows.

Dwayne and David looked on exasperated, as the chaos twins went at it. “We’re never gonna get home are we,” Dwayne asked.

David sighed in response.

You caught sight of the scene on your way back from your shift at the auto shop. Working the night shift meant you were usually met with a deserted wasteland of a boardwalk, instead of the flood of tourists and locals that regularly populated the spot.

Now you were faced with the image of two grown men rolling around on the ground together. You had to see what this was about.

You walked over and waved cautiously at the two calmer looking but obviously frustrated men. “Hey,” you greeted them, “what’s going on here, maybe I can help?” You offered.

Paul screamed as Marko bit his shoulder, prompting you to jump and step back, “or maybe I should just leave you to it…” you mumbled, concerned.

David turned his gaze from you back to Paul as he wrestled Marko into a headlock, but Dwayne noticed the grease smeared lightly on your face and staining your clothes, maybe you could help.

“Know anything about motorcycles?” he asked as he gestured towards Marko’s bike.

You smiled, “you’re in luck,” you told him, “I just got off a shift at Ocean Auto, I should be able to help you out.”

David’s gaze snapped up to look at you, “you can fix his bike?” He asked.

“I can sure try,” you replied, kneeling down to take a look as Dwayne pulled Paul and Marko off of each other.

You shrugged off your backpack and pulled out your toolbox. You opened the box and grabbed your multimeter, to check the battery.

The battery looked good so you moved on with your assessment. You removed one of the spark plugs and screwed in a compression tester.

Everything was turning up fine, but then realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You pulled out the bike’s air filter, only to find it just as you’d suspected, covered in dust and dirt.

You chuckled to yourself as you realized how stupidly simple the problem was. You turned to the four men, flashing them the filter.

“You’re gonna wanna soak this in some warm water and cleaner, but for now…” you trailed off as you pulled your water bottle from your bag. You sprayed the filter and wiped it with the bandana you kept in your back pocket.

You smiled as you handed it back to the curly blond man, “good as new…sort of,” you told him.

“Thanks,” Marko said as he popped the filter back into his bike and started his engine. “You’re a real life saver,” he told you.

“More than you know,” David mumbled to Dwayne.

As you packed up your stuff and stood to your feet, Paul slid an arm around your waist.

“Come here often sugar?” he asked you.

You blushed at his brazen attitude, “I’m here every morning, I work the night shift at the auto shop every day.” You told them.

“We’ll have to stop by sometime,” Dwayne said smiling, “but for now we’ve gotta go.”

David checked his watch, it was six AM, they were cutting it close. “C’mon boys,” he commanded, “let’s ride.”

You stepped back, getting the hint, “It was nice to meet you guys, see you around,” you waved as you walked off.

“Dibs,” Paul said, once you were out of earshot.

The other boys rolled their eyes as they all rode off into the night. This wasn’t the last they’d be seeing of you, not if they could help it.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

(I know I didn’t get to get into the romantic aspect of the Boys x Reader, so I’d be happy to write a part two for you if you want one when requests open back up!)

Taglist❤️:

@pixielostboy @its-freaking-bats @anna1306 @misslavenderlady @ghoulgeousimmaculate @solobagginses @heyriojude @6lostgirl6

[a-bucket-of-trash]

Bonds Like Tree’s Roots- Kelvin x Female Reader – P8

P7

Tags: Fluff with a pinch of tempting

Now that Kelvin had finally changed his phone and acquired a new number, he was able to book yours and organize something special for that warm, early Saturday morning: a day on the road, together.

You left your house with a slightly more sporty and preventive outfit, and a couple of medium-sized backpacks, seeing the gentleman in the black leather jacket, standing next to his motorcycle, who already had a couple of half-full saddlebags on the back.

”Why so much baggage? Are we going on a mission to the arctic?” The ex-soldier looked at the pair of backpacks. "Or are you going back to the island to kill cannibals?"

“Food… Or what do you plan to eat when we get there? Fish and berries?” You scolded him "I remind you that you eat like a hungry lion, you are only going to empty an entire backpack"

"We're going back today, I'm not going to starve" He took the backpacks from your hands and placed them slowly and carefully on the back of his motorcycle, hooking them with the respective locks and ropes.

"Sure, but the one who gets grumpy if is hungry, is you... I suffer with the consequences" You crossed your arms next to him.

"When that happens, give me some tummy rubs..." He tied everything up firmly.

"Rottweiler" You mumbled, half sleepy.

"And you get cranky when you wake up early" He smiled, taking one of the helmets that hung from the handlebars "I know you"

“And yet, you decided that it would be a very good idea to leave at 6 in the morning…” You sighed long and whined capriciously “I'm sleepyyyyyy”

"Are you very sleepy, prettyyyy?" He gave you a helmet “Too bad, babyyyy… And I was going to let you drive my motorcycle… I guess you can't do it if you're sleepyyyyy, it wouldn't be safe…” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, shaking the keys in your face.

"I'm not sleepy! I lie!" You tried to take the keys, but he held them up high, out of your reach “Kelviiiiiinnn”

"Na-ah" He denied, smiling "Not with that ugly behavior, missy" He brought his face closer to you, leaving his cheek well exposed "Cheek"

"Silly" You kissed his cheek for a long time, receiving the keys in exchange "Yay"

"I was going to give them to you anyway, you know the city and surroundings better than me" He put on his helmet, adjusting it well, watching you do the same "We'll go get gas first, I want to go out with a full tank"

You nodded, watching him point the motorcycle at you, inviting you to get on first. Glad to finally be able to drive, you climbed in, starting the engine.

"Uhhhh!" You celebrated "I haven't done this in years"

"Not very reassuring, I hope you haven't forgotten how" Kelvin climbed in behind, trying to fit into the space left "Close and indecent or do you want me to try to keep the space?"

“Like I've never woken up on the island with your morning boner stuck in my back.” You laughed.

“Why do you have to remember that!?” He was shocked.

"To tease you a bit, obviously!" You laughed

You opened your arms a little as a sign that you allowed him to get close enough to hug you, noticing how he stuck completely to your back, his arms now chained to your waist and his head close to yours.

Already sure that everything was in order, you accelerated to go out into the street, feeling the machine obey your orders, which made you laugh slightly. You loved that feeling, and he knew it.

The sound of the engine purring, the wheels hitting the pavement, the air hissing in the helmet, the way your body leaned with the beast at every turn, and that abrupt, sweeping sensation of freedom filled your chest as if it filled a hole that existed solely for that. Added to that, your brain went into “driver” mode, paying due attention to everything around you, which, although it could be overwhelming as a beginner, now, as an expert at it, helped you forget about everything else. There was no stress, no memories of the island, no mutants or cannibals, no fights with James, no anxiety about the future. You couldn't wait to leave the city and hit the road, that was even better, with the scenery filling your senses.

"And well?" He said, raising his voice a little since the noise always drowned out what was said a little "Do you like it?"

"I love it!" You exclaimed, blissful “Thank you! Thank you! I love this!"

"Your welcome beautiful!" He smiled softly "Enjoy it!"

After only a few blocks, Kelvin soon realized how you were driving, which relaxed him completely. You were attentive to everything, it was as if you had done that every day of your life. Was even curious that you stuck at a speed not very high, as if you had a speed limiter installed in your brain, maintaining a cruising speed even below the legally allowed.

He saw how you just gave it a little more speed on the road, enough not to be a hindrance to other drivers, stuck at a constant speed, even in curves. And he loved it, realizing that you were driving basically the same as him, calm, quiet and soaking up the experience.

The man smiled to himself, noticing that from time to time you sighed, as if relaxation were filling you inside. He hated the fact that he didn't have that much savings available, otherwise he'd already be getting ready to give you your own motorcycle. A "someday" crossed his mind. Someday he would, and the two of you could ride the country's roads as a team.

"You know where we're going, right?" He asked, close to your ear.

"Obviously! I studied the map yesterday and I have a GPS just in case. Besides, it's not that far.” You didn't take your eyes off the road.

"Smart girl" He leaned his helmet against yours, hugging you closer, closing his eyes "It's been a long time since I went in the back, I had forgotten how comfortable it is"

You barely released the handlebars briefly with one of your hands to rub one of his arms in response. Not only was it comfortable for him, but hug you close was what made the whole experience better.

It was an hour later that you patted his arm again to alert him a bit, carefully turning off the road onto a secondary earth road that meandered through the trees. Little by little you took the odd path, without a soul around, until you reached a slightly more open area, a clearing among the leafy trees, covered with grass on one side of the river that purred as much as the motorcycle.

You got off after Kelvin, stretching for a long time, breathing the fresh air, exclaiming “Ouch, my butt hurts” which made him laugh.

He removed his helmet, looking around the area. Those kinds of landscapes always reminded him of certain areas of the island.

"It looks a bit like the base we made for the winter" He said, watching you take off the helmet and place it on the machine "Do you remember?"

"My soul turns cold just thinking about it" You approached him and lowered your eyes slightly "Again, thanks for letting me drive, it was great"

"Whatever you ask me, pretty" He gently kissed your head "Would you make the coffee while I put everything together? I would do it, but it tastes much more delicious to you”

“Mhm” You smiled “Also I bought a good coffee for today. I tried it yesterday, it's fabulous, strong just the way you like it”

"Great" He smiled, biting his tongue, since he had been about to say that what he liked was you.

Soon Kelvin was leaving the motorcycle in a more shady spot, taking a few things out of the packs. You saw him take off the leather jacket he always used to drive, leaving it in one of the saddlebags, and take off the hoodie he had brought just in case. He had been foolish because the weather was kind of warm, so he was feeling hot, so he took it off as well, half-ripping off the brown shirt he was wearing underneath in the process. Your eyes lightly lock on his abs, which, while not overly ripped, were clearly noticeable, evidence that lately he was focusing on his physical condition. You also recorded his lower belly, the path of body hair that trailed down from his belly button as if in invitation, and the way his hips looked disappearing under his pants.

You turned so that he wouldn't discover you visually consuming his view, and you dedicated yourself to making coffee, recognizing the monumental differences between the Kelvin you had met on the island, and the one you had in front of you. He was the same, same puppy eyes, same good-natured heart, but mentally agile, attentive, affectionate and with a much more defined physique. It was like falling in love with an improved version of the man you already loved before.

P9

[queen-of-writing-bad-things]

Henry Danger Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 2

Episode 8: Henry's Jelly

~Swellview High School~

"Ooh! They're gonna catch him!" Charlotte squealed as she and Jasper watched a live newsfeed of a motorcycle chase. Pretty much everyone in the school was glued to their screens to see if the police could catch the dangerous rogue.

"No, he just made a U-turn." Jasper gasped as the motorbike rider dodged the police's attempts to grab him. Henry wandered through the school's halls, wondering what everyone was chattering about.

"Hey, what's going on?" He asked his friends.

"A live police pursuit." Charlotte quickly explained, never taking her eyes off the PearPad. 

"They've been chasing a guy on a motorcycle all 'round Swellview," Jasper added as Henry started watching too.

"It's been going on for over an hour." The teen girl said, watching as the motorcyclist took a right turn onto another street. Even Sydney and Oliver were following the news, but they were arguing about it at the same time. Some things never change.

"Whoa, this motorcycle guy's insane." Henry chuckled as he saw the dude filtering dangerously through the traffic and doing wheelies to mock the men chasing him.

"Oh, is the motorcycle chase still on?" Miss Shapen as her students as she rounded the corner wearing a shockingly orange outfit.

"Yes, ma'am," Jasper confirmed as they all oo'ed and ahh'ed at how the rider was turning around to look at the news crew. Henry was right, this guy was crazy. The news had brought on a 'motorcycle expert' to explain some trivia to the viewers, but all he was saying was complete crap or completely obvious.

"Jasper, I need you to get the flag and put it out in front of the school." Miss Shapen told the curly-haired boy, who didn't want to stop watching.

"Why?" He asked in a whiny voice.

"'Cause there's nothing out there now and you can't pledge allegiance to a hole." The teacher snapped.

"But I wanna keep watching this," Jasper said, causing Miss Shapen to snatch the PearPad away from his hands.

"FLAG!" She yelled loudly, prompting Jasper to sprint off to get that flag. Miss Shapen, Henry and Charlotte continued to watch the chase as the rider zoomed towards their school. Oliver Pook, being weird and cowardly, ran to go hide in the girl's bathroom, which wasn't his best idea.

Taking Henry aside, Charlotte pulled his ear down to her lips. 

"Uh, you realise that a criminal is riding toward this school." She pointed out, but like always, Henry couldn't read between the lines.

"Yeah. So?" He asked.

"So it might be a good time for Captain Man or Kid Danger to get here." She mumbled, lowering her voice so no other kids could hear what she was saying.

"Right, right. I...uh...better go wash my nose." Henry told Miss Shapen, who looked confused but bought the lie anyway. Backing away down the corridor, Henry discreetly popped a gumball into his mouth and dashed off to find a safe place to transform. He needed to hurry up; the man had raced across the car park and the lawn and was heading towards the school's entrance. 

"Oh, Charlotte! Open the doors!" Miss Shapen said to the girl as she dug through her purse.

"Why?" Charlotte asked in bewilderment, thinking that letting a criminal on a dangerous motorcycle into the school was a terrible idea.

"'Cause if that motorcycle rides by I'm gonna get it on video." The teacher exclaimed, tapping away on her phone.

"But, I don' think--" Charlotte protested, but arguing with Miss Shapen was always a bad idea.

"DOOR!" She yelled in the same way she yelled at Jasper to get the flag. Charlotte followed her directions and ran over to open the doors as Jasper returned.

"Miss Shapen, I got the flag." He told her, standing proudly with the pole in his hand.

"Not now!" She snapped, focusing on getting her camera ready.

"He's coming this way!" Charlotte gasped as the man came right towards her.

"Get away, get back! I was shooting video first!" Miss Shapen yelled, not caring about the safety of the kids. The rider didn't stop, he just rode through the doors and into the school. Squeezing his eyes shut in fear, Jasper raised the flagpole horizontally and knocked the man off the bike, unwittingly saving his peers from possible injury.

Everyone burst into cheers and applause as he peeked open his eyes and saw the biker groaning on the floor. Jasper was a hero, who would've thought it?

"What happened?" He asked confusedly, not realising what he had done.

"You stopped him!" Charlotte explained, making Jasper cry out in delight.

"Jasper, you're a hero!!" Sydney shouted across the room and everyone agreed with him, just as Kid Danger ran into the school. 

"Hey. I'm here." Henry announced with his hands on his hips, not knowing that he was a few minutes late to the action.

"Look, Jasper already took him down," Charlotte told him happily as Henry frowned. He wasn't used to someone else being a teen hero.

"Hey, do you mind if I get a picture?" A blonde girl asked.

"Nah, people ask me all the time," Henry smirked and put his arm around her since he had the wrong idea. 

"Thanks!" The girl squealed and passed Henry her phone so she could stand next to Jasper.

"Uh, sure. There, done, come get your phone." He stuttered as he recovered from his shock. Jealousy was an ugly thing, especially amongst friends.  Henry walked off as the cops arrived and dragged the motorcyclist away, much to the entertainment of the kids crowding around the entrance.

~The next day~

So, it seemed like stops a crazed bike rider was enough to become a minor celebrity in Swellview. Jasper Dunlop was the city's newest hero and had been showered with praise, gifts and even a news appearance. 

"Hey, everybody, check it out. Jasper's on the news!" Sydney told everyone in school, causing them to take out their phones, laptops or tablets so they could watch online.

"Wait, why's Jasper on the news?" Henry asked as his jealousy ignited again. Jasper stops one guy and he suddenly gets more attention than he got from being Kid Danger? Not fair!

"He caught that motorcycle guy yesterday." Sydney reminded him and he swallowed the anger rising in his throat.

"And when I saw the guy riding the motorcycle towards me, I just held up the flag and he crashed into the pole," Jasper explained to Trent Overrunder as poor Mary had to stand awkwardly behind them. She never had it easy.

Henry scoffed as Trent heaped his praise onto his best friend and his disgust grew as Charlotte spoke.

"Aw, I'm so proud of Jasper." She smiled at her friend's interview, glad that something good was happening to the kid that often had a hard time.

"I gotta get to class." Henry sulked moodily, not wanting to hear any more about Jasper or how amazing he was.

"Why? We have ten minutes." Charlotte said,  looking at him with a puzzled face.

"I don't like watching the news, all right?" Henry lied. He did like watching the news, just not when all the news was about Jasper and not him.

"Jasper's on!" Charlotte told him, which didn't help.

"So? We see Jasper all the time." I mean, pffft. Sorry, you love the news." Henry rolled his eyes as a group of pretty girls came over to him.

"Hey, Henry. Janey and I are having a party on Saturday night." The tallest girl smiled sweetly. 

"Oh, cool." Henry assumed that they wanted him to go.

"If you aren't busy, will you tell Jasper he's invited?" She asked, fanning his internal rage. Jasper this, Jasper that, Henry was starting to get pissed off. 

"Jasper's a hero." Janey swooned, the heroic actions of Jasper made her heart flutter with teen love.

"Yeah, sure." Henry shrugged, feeling beyond disappointed that these girls didn't want his handsome face at the party.

"Yay!" They all giggled and skipped down the corridor, leaving Charlotte with her grumpy friend.

"Hero? Pfffft! I'm a superhero." Henry bragged jealously.

"Mmm, technically sidekick." Charlotte corrected, deciding that Henry was quite a superhero in his own right just yet.

"Same thing." He argued bitterly.

"Mmmm, not quite." The teen girl said hesitantly, sparking Henry's anger.

"I'm going to class!" He growled and walked away, just as Janey came back and asked Charlotte for Jasper's phone number. Well, that certainly made him stop and peer around the lockers.

"You don't need Jasper's phone number!" He shouted at the poor girl as Charlotte recalled it, causing Janey to run away in fright. Henry desperately needed to get his temper under control.

~Later that day in The Man Cave~

Even after a full day at school, Henry was still annoyed at the whole Jasper-hero thing, so he was stood in the middle of the Man Cave as Charlotte worked on the supercomputer and Ray taught (y/n) some self-defence moves. If she was going to become a superhero, he was going to give her the best training possible. Plus, it was a great excuse for him to see her in some tight lycra and her to get an eyeful of his bare arms. God, he looked sexy in a tank top.

(y/n) bounced around the squishy mat that had been spread out across the floor as she raised her fists to her jaw and circled the larger man. Ray had been reluctant to spar with her since he thought she was so delicate and precious, but she insisted. She lived in a dangerous world and knew he would never hurt her anyway, so it would all be fine.

"And then, Jasper got to go on the news and everyone thinks he's so awesome and it's so not fair," Henry grumbled as Ray gave a soft high kick to his friend's hip. She tried to grab onto him to wrestle him or something, but he just used a takedown move and as gently as he could, pushed her onto the mat.

"Down you go, sweet girl." He smirked at her as she panted. He had to ignore the way her chest heaved and her skin glowed, otherwise he'd have to cut their session short and scuttle off to a cold shower.

"Are you guys listening to me?" Henry whined as (y/n) got back on her feet and put up her fists again. She'd beat him, she wasn't sure how, but she would.

"I'm not!" Charlotte retorted from the computer, thoroughly irritated by his complaining and envy.

"I just don't get what you're upset about," Ray added, hopping from one foot to the other.

"Yeah, you're not making a lot of sense." (y/n) mumbled, her focus primarily being on her opponent. and the way his hair cutely flopped about. 'No, serious concentration-time.' She scolded herself. She'd have to be sneaky to get one up on him.

"Oh, what's not to get? Charlotte gets it." Henry groaned at them.

"No, she doesn't." The girl sassed, wanting to stay out of Henry's bitter ranting.

"Well, Jasper did basically nothing and suddenly, everyone in Swellview thinks he's a hero." He said loudly, not letting anyone escape from his angry mood.

"That's a good thing, isn't it?" (y/n) mentioned breathily, Ray trying to look anywhere but her bouncing chest. He didn't want to be that guy.

"I capture bad guys with you all the time and no one gives me any credit," Henry said to Ray, causing Charlotte to stand up and walk to him. Okay, she had something to say about that statement.

"You get credit all the time." She protested in frustration. Henry was being a massive baby about this. Couldn't he just be happy for his friend?

"Yeah, the Vice-Mayor gave us those medals," Ray mentioned, turning around briefly to look at the boy.

"Don't forget the voucher for the frozen yoghurt." (y/n) said, hoping she could use Ray's distraction to get the upper hand. Sadly for her though, he saw he attack just in time for him to plough her into the mat with a shoulder throw. Despite the soft surface, the landing winded her and she grumbled at the force.

"Can't you just let me win?" She groaned whilst Ray began to circle the mat again. He'd love to take it easy on her, but he knew that a criminal would use every nasty trick in the book to hurt or even kill her. He just wanted to prepare his girl for a world he knew all too well.

"No, Kid Danger gets the credit and the medals and the yoghurt. But I spend most of my life as Henry Hart and no one knows I do anything." Henry complained. He had a point, no one would ever know that it was him who saved the city day in, day out, but that was the job he had signed up for. 

"Just a second," Ray said to him as he blocked some of (y/n)'s jabs and threw her on the mat again. He wrapped his legs around her arm and gently squeezed so she'd feel the pressure, but not be in pain. 

"All right, doofus. Let me go." She whined, tapping his leg so he'd release her. 

"Man, I'm good." Ray joked as he held out a hand for her so he could help her stand up. However, his bragging got under her skin slightly. She stuck her tongue out at him and used whatever flexibility and strength she had to perform a kip-up, effectively getting on her feet and impressing him at the same time. 

"Let's go, hotshot." She growled confidently, not ready to give up yet, even though her muscles were starting to ache. Still, she circled the mat again and started looking for any weak points.

"Uh, you know, (y/n) can be strong when she wants to be." Charlotte piped up, fully aware of how the woman's small frame was capable of packing a punch when she used her intelligence.

"Yeah, but she's not as strong as me." Ray smiled, believing his superhero strength could outmatch anyone.

"I could beat you if I wanted to." She told him. Of course, she wasn't as muscly or as agile as he was, but she had a few tricks up her sleeve that had gotten her out of trouble before.

"Oh, really? Okay, well, I want you to start trying your hardest right now. Do your worst, sweet girl." He instructed her, thinking he could take anything she threw at him. It was (y/n), sweet, innocent (y/n), she wasn't that scary, right?

"You really wanna see my best moves?" She asked him, wanting his full consent before she switched to Miss Danger mode. She had spent years working out and practising self-defence whilst he was on patrol and she had picked up a few special moves here and there.

"Yeah, come on, (y/n/n). Let's see what you got. Let's see if you're fast enough to catch old--" Ray's gloating was cut off as the young woman landed a hard sucker punch on his nose, the fleeting, but intense pain making him fall on the floor. Looks like his ducking and weaving was no match for a good old-fashioned smack in the mouth.

"I slipped." Ray lied as he scrambled from the floor, but the laughing kids didn't believe him. They saw the way his eyes screwed shut in agony and there was no way he could've faked that.

"All right, my little helper. Let's try that again." The superhero said, scrunching his nose up like a bunny.

"Are you sure? I hit you pretty hard." (y/n) winced. She knew she couldn't actually hurt the indestructible Captain Man, but she wasn't one for going around and punching her friends.

"Yeah, I'm ready this time. Better watch out, coming in fast, girl. Come on, show me your best move, show me what you got--" His incessant taunting fuelled he need to just shut him up, so she landed another hit on the side of his head. Henry and Charlotte chuckled as he landed face down on the mat again. If he was smart, he'd stay down.

"I did ask if you wanted to be hit again." (y/n) held her hands up innocently as he stood up, his face filled with both exhaustion and admiration. He was astounded by her, there was always something new to fall in love with and today, it was how she could kick ass so easily when she put her mind to it.

"Okay, sweet girl, think you've had enough? I'm gonna hit the shower." He panted, not wanting to take another beating from her. She giggled as he walked past her and made sure to grab his hand as he did.

"I'm coming too." She smiled, trying to ignore the idea of them showering together in that way. That was just setting herself up for a burning frustration that would take days to smother. 

"You can't wash off the pain!" Henry called to Ray in a monotone voice. The great Captain Man, beaten by a girl. Funny.

"You heard him." She laughed, clinging to his arm as they walked to the back of the Man Cave. She'd never let him live this one down, especially after all that bragging he did.

"Yeah, yeah." He sulked as they left the main room, bantering all the way to the shower block. All he had to do was not think about her bodacious curves in the shower until he was alone.

"And we have some exciting news from the Mayor's office," Charlotte screamed when she saw the latest report on the news. It couldn't be true, this was just too cool.

"No way!" She exclaimed, drawing Henry's attention. 

"What?" The boy asked in a low, confused one.

"Uh, nothing. It's nothing, it's not about Jasper. Don't come over here." She stammered, but her words made it impossible for Henry to ignore them. What had Jasper done now?

"Jasper Dunlop is getting his own holiday." Trent Overrunder reported, making Henry's mouth drop open like a goldfish's.

"Thanks to his heroic actions last week, the Mayor has declared April 9th as Jasper Dunlop Day, here in Swellview." Mary smiled into the camera, her happiness making the kid even more bitter.

"A happy day for a very special young man," Trent added, causing Henry to slam his fist onto the control panel to turn off the dumb news report. Could this be any worse?

"He wasn't heroic. He wasn't even sheroic. He was non-roic!" He hissed, making Charlotte sign in frustration. 

"You know, Jasper's your friend. You shouldn't be jealous of him." She told him, making him put since he'd been caught out.

"I'm not jealous." He defended poorly.

"Yes, you are. You're jelly of Jasper." Charlotte folded her arms and frowned at him. Did he think she was stupid?

"No, I'm not. I'm not jelly of Jasper. This is about me, wanting more people to pay attention to me, instead of Jasper." Henry argued back, his logic is completely stupid.

"All right, I'm going upstairs." The girl sighed. She'd had enough of his bullshit and just wanted a break from his whining.

"Why?" Henry scoffed. He needed someone to whine at and with no Ray or (y/n) available, that left Charlotte.

"Because you're not upstairs." She growled in response and stepped into the elevator.

"Pfft, I"m not jelly of Jasper," Henry mumbled to himself as the elevator door slid shut.

"It's just not fair, why should he--" Henry bleated, but was interrupted by the emergency alarm ringing out. Someone was in trouble. 

"Emergency. Pet Me. Hey, R--" Henry stopped himself before his boss could hear him. Not that he would, he was way too busy singing in the shows to notice the flashing alarm in his shower, despite it being next to his head. 

"I don't need Ray. And I don't need all the stuff." Henry told himself as he heard Ray's daft ramblings from the shower. The boy foolishly put his gum tube on the control panel and slid off his whiz watch too. 

"I'm gonna show Swellview what Henry Hart can do." He pumped himself up, not knowing that his overconfidence would be his downfall. Taking out his remote control, he lowered a tube and blasted off and out of the building, leaving the blissfully unaware adults behind.

"RAYMOND, STOP SHOUTING, YOU BIG DOOFUS!" (y/n) yelled as his out of tune screaming echoed around the tiles of her shower block. He was a moron, but he was her moron.

~Pet Me Pet Store~

Some insane thug was threatening a customer in the pet shop as the terrified cashier looked on in terror. The criminal yelled and screamed at the poor guy to squeeze into a large dog cage, not wanting anyone to be crawling around the room as he robbed the place

"Please, please, sir. You've gotta stop. Sir, you are out of control." The cashier begged. He didn't want to see anyone hurt in his store.

"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!" The thug bellowed as Henry dropped down from the ceiling and into a display basket of soft, squeaky pet toys. Everyone glanced over at the display as his body weight made several toys squeak when he buried into them.

"What was that noise?" The criminal asked the employee, but he was just as clueless as he was. He didn't know some angsty teen was trying to be a hero with no equipment whatsoever.

"Sir, sir, my boss gets back from Wisconsin in a week, you can talk to him then." The mild-mannered guy tried to calm him down, but he just growled furiously in response. Poking his head through the toys, Henry was waiting for the opportune moment.

"I ain't waiting a week. You sold me a defective goldfish. Here's the receipt." The begrudged man said, holding out a scrap of crumpled paper.

"The goldfish wasn't defective." The employee whimpered.

"He's dead, man! I can show you his wet, lifeless carcass!" Henry analysed the criminal, thinking that it was his poor treatment of the fish that made it die. The large, scruffy man continued to intimidate the poor worker until Henry had had enough. Even with the offer of a free, new goldfish, the man was still raging on. It was not-hero time.

"Good Lord, just give him the money!" A frightened woman called out from one of the pet cages as the criminal demanded a refund. She wasn't going to get hurt for four measly dollars. However, there was nothing the young man could do; the store didn't do cask refunds and this information poked the bear even more.

"We're going in the break room!" The man growled, marching himself and the cashier to the back room so they could review the store's policy. This was Henry's chance.

"Shhhhh! Shhhhh! Shhhhhh!" He cringed as every movement he made was ridiculously noisy from the toys, causing the trapped citizens to look at him funnily. 

Once free of the toys, he picked up a large dog bone and stomped towards the cages, intent on freeing everyone. But, what he didn't notice was that Captain Man and Miss Danger had been him to the store when (y/n) noticed the alarm going off outside her shower. They had rushed to the emergency when they saw Henry's gum and watch left behind and they knew he was up to something dumb.

Swiftly tiptoeing over to the boy, Ray slapped his hand down on his shoulder, causing him to shout in alarm from the unexpected touch. Ray and (y/n) jumped back at his outburst, not expecting him to scream in their faces. If they carried on making this much noise, the element of surprise would be wasted.

"Ray? (y/n)? What are you doing here?" Henry hissed at the couple as (y/n) angrily dragged him to the opposite side of the store, not wanting the locked-up customers to hear anything they said.

"It's Captain Man and Miss Danger! And what are you doing here?" The man rebuked his sidekick's attitude. He couldn't believe his sidekick had left work and forced him to bring his emergency sidekick out. Still, he knew it would be good practice for her to get out and into the field and he so loved seeing her in her tight super suit.

"Uh, you know...fighting crime?" Henry stuttered and shrugged, but his answer wasn't good enough.

"Dressed like that?" (y/n) snapped, feeling like a mother who had caught her child misbehaving.

"You're out of uniform!" Ray added, also noting Henry's lack of costume. What the three of them failed to notice was the fact that the criminal had heard their bickering and was sneaking from the break room and towards them.

"I don't need that. Henry Hart's gonna get some credit." Henry gloated, his prideful and big-headed moment making his bosses sigh frustratedly. That's what this was about? His whole jealousy thing? 

"Sweet cheese, Henry, grow up!" (y/n) pinched the bridge of her nose as the scruffy dude closed in.

"Do you really think it matters?" Captain Man continued, equally annoyed at how childish he was being.

"Yeah, I do--" Their arguing was cut short as Henry was grabbed from behind by the man and quickly held hostage.

"Get off me, man!" The kid seethed as Ray protectively stepped in front of (y/n). He couldn't help but shield her from danger, despite the threat being minimal.

"Hey, let him go," Ray commanded the man as Henry struggled in his arms. His authoritative voice made shivers go down (y/n)'s spine, but this was no time to dream about how hot he was.

"You better stay back, Captain Man!" The guy threatened, baring his teeth in an animalistic snarl.

"Captain Man doesn't stay back. Captain Man...moves forward." Ray replied confidently as (y/n) clenched her fists next to him.

"No, no, no. I don't need your help." Henry stopped the pair from advancing, holding out his hand and declining their assistance. He should've accepted it though, 'cause he really struggled against the superior strength of the large thug.

"Suit yourself." (y/n) smiled sarcastically as she rested an arm on Ray's shoulder, the two of them waiting for Henry's "big moment".

"Okay, a little help." The boy panted as his energy drained away from all his useless fighting.

"How about two fistfuls of help?" Ray quipped, holing up his hands aggressively.

"Dude, I'm here too. Make that four fistfuls of help, kid I've never met." (y/n) slapped her best friend's arm when he failed to mention her and the two of them took a step forward. Well, they would've helped out if the man hadn't held a very dangerous spider over Henry's head. Ah, geez.

"Not another step, Captain." The guy smiled sinisterly.

"Okay, put down the spider," Ray instructed him calmy, not recognising that it was a highly poisonous breed.

"This ain't just a spider, this is a Mexican Red Rump." The criminal explained, causing Henry's face to pale. He'd certainly heard of those.

"Oh, geez." He swallowed the lump in his throat. What had he gotten himself into?

"You're bluffing. That's not a Mexican Red Rump." Captain Man challenged, not believing the dude.

"Oh, yeah? Look at his rump?" He shook the spider's plastic container and the superhero and his helper could clearly see the arachnid's distinct red body.

"Yeah, that ass is red." (y/n) gulped as the flimsy cage wobbled over her friend's head.

"That's right and all I have to do is flip this lever and this spider will run right down onto this kid's stupid face. Or Captain Man, I could have it run all over that pretty little thing you got right there and see what happens when it bites her pretty neck." The man intimidated the young woman into stepping back a little and letting Ray take control. Her fear switched his mind into an angry state, as his temper flared up at the guy's disgusting names for her. Only he got to call her neck pretty.

"You wouldn't dare." The superhero growled, his protective instincts ramping up at the threats towards his girl and his sidekick.

"Oh, yes, I would. Unless you and your sweet piece get inside that animal crate." He told him, wanting to humiliate Captain Man by getting him locked up like a common criminal.

"I don't think so," Ray replied, pursing his lips in defiance.

"We'd never fit." (y/n) added, analysing the dimensions of the cage quickly. It would definitely be a tight squeeze for them.

"I just have to flip this lever." The thug's thumb brushed over the release button, causing Henry to panic.

"Uh, Captain Man! Maybe you and Miss Danger get in the crate, 'cause I really don't want a Mexican Red Rump on my face." The kid exclaimed nervously, his fear making his captor giggle manically. This put Ray between a rock and a very hard place. He had to consider that he had Henry's life at risk, (y/n)'s life possibly at risk, the humiliation of being forced into a pet crate and the fact that he would be intimately pressed against the young woman as she squeezed into it with him. Decisions, decisions. 

~Five minutes later~

Well, this sucked. Ray and (y/n) had jointly decided that the cage was the best option for everyone, so he had crawled in first and then she had followed after him. Currently, the girl was sat between his long legs with her back to his chest as they both banged on the cage bars. Even though they both secretly loved being so close to one another, they knew they had to figure a way out of the damn things.

Henry felt the same way. The mad criminal had put him into the identical pet crate next to them and despite the extra legroom, he too was keen to get out.

"Hey, let me out of this pet carrier, I'm uncomfortable." Henry groaned as he thumped his fist into the wire top. Little did they all know that the guy had sent a recording of them to a news crew and the whole city knew of their peril and that Captain Man had a darling new sidekick. Oh well, they cross that bridge when they came to it, first, they had to wait out for the help that was on its way.

"You don't think we're uncomfortable?" (y/n) sassed the boy who got them all here in the first place. It wasn't a complete lie, she hated how cramped everything felt, but she also adored how she could just lool her head back and be consumed by Ray and his endless muscly torso.

"Sir, please, it's just four dollars." The cashier repeated his statement from earlier as the situation spiralled out of control. At least Captain Man was having a whale of a time enjoying the way his girl fit into his embrace. The criminal said one thing right; she did have a pretty neck and he just wanted to drag his lips down it.

"Boom, it's four dollars and seventeen cents!" The man corrected, whipping out his receipt. 

"Wow, that seventeen cents is going to make a world of difference." (y/n) rolled her eyes sarcastically, feeling at ease as Ray's hot breath tickled her ear and his hand settled on her waist.

"Shut up, woman! Give me my refund!" He pointed a gnarled finger at their cage whilst glaring at the quivering employee.

"I can't violate store policy!" He stiffened diligently, trying not to be so intimidated that he lost all of his scruples.

"Then I'm gonna have to start breaking everything in this store. Starting with your face!" He snapped, his patience hanging on by a thread.

"That's also against store policy!" The cashier hissed back as he found his bravery. The criminal shouted in rage and began to chase him around the store, prompting Henry, Ray and (y/n) to kick and punch at the cages restraining them. 

"Captain Man? Can't you and your...friend do something?" One of the trapped customers said, not realising that they weren't just sitting around and twiddling their thumbs.

"We're trying," Ray told him dryly whilst (y/n) kicked the crate's door, which was surprisingly strong.

"Okay, these things are impossible to break open." Miss Danger told him breathily, leaning back into his chest as she kept kicking anyway.

"Well, where's Kid Danger?" A woman asked, making the adults huff bitterly.

"Oh, well, you see, sometimes, Kid Danger makes irresponsible choices and is unprepared for a situation like this." Ray smiled fakely, his words causing (y/n) to nod along in agreement.

"Well, Captain Man and Miss Danger, maybe instead of trash-talking Kid Danger, who I think is awesome by the way--" Henry bragged, tooting his own horn.

"Not today! Little shit!" (y/n) snapped, thoroughly irritated by the kid's behaviour.

"Whatever. Maybe if we can make these cages fall on the floor, the impact will open them up." Henry suggested reasonably. It wasn't a bad idea, to be fair. He and Ray grabbed the tops of their respective cages and began to wobble and rock them from side to side, hoping they'd get enough momentum to tip over the edge of the counter.

"Wait, this is going to hurt--" (y/n)'s protests were in vain as the males successfully tipped the cages onto the floor, but their design was immaculate and they remained intact despite the violent drop. Now, they were just sore, irritated and upside-down.

"Great, now we're on the floor." Ray groaned as he and (y/n) blinked through the pain. He gently took hold of her hand and she squeezed it to tell him she was okay; annoyed, but not hurt.

"I tried to tell you, doofus." She whined, wiggling around with him like a tortoise on its back to see the bars would prise open now. 

"Pssst, Henry." A new voice entered the room and they all looked over in wonder and shock as Jasper of all people came to their rescue. He was definitely proving himself to be quite the hero.

"Jasper?" Henry gasped at his best friend's sudden appearance, but Ray wasn't so pleased to see the kid with sweaty hands.

"Oh, god." He mumbled so only he and (y/n) could hear it, making the woman giggle.

"Shush, be nice." She chuckled, leaning up to press a calming peck to his cheek or rather his lower jaw due to the angle. If only she knew how that some kiss made him putty in her hands. He was thankful they were in a dangerous situation surrounded by people, otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from doing something he'd surely regret.

"Dude, what are you doing here?" Henry asked him in a lowered voice, knowing the criminal would be back any minute.

"I saw you on the news," Jasper whispered back, piquing his friend's and (y/n)'s interest. They had been filmed? When?

"I was on the news? Did they mention my name?" Henry wanted to know if the word had spread about his reckless heroism.

"No." The curly-haired boy answered succinctly, quashing Henry's hopes of fame and glory.

"Aw, dang it!" Henry grunted at the information. If he couldn't get a shred of recognition, all of this would be for nothing.

"Um, excuse me, Jeremy, no, James--uh, Jasper! Was I on the news?" (y/n) piped up from the other side of the counter, her head tucked under Ray's chin as she fitted her body under his so she could see the boys.

"Yeah, Miss. Danger, everyone saw you." Jasper told her excitedly, recalling how Trent and Mary were leading the speculation on who was Captain Man's attractive sidekick and what was her relation to him.

"Fabulous." (y/n) smiled weakly. Unlike Ray or Henry, the idea of red carpets and constant paparazzi attacks freaked her out. It would be harder for her and her nervous personality to get over that than the supervillains she would face.

"Hey, I'm super psyched that you guys are having a little reunion here, but can we please focus on the psycho that's taken over this pet store?" Ray hissed as his back began to ache from the awkward position. That and the way he was bent over his gorgeous assistant did nothing for his filthy mind and he wasn't sure how long he could resist the temptation to just pin her down and have his way with her. 

"Right." Jasper nodded. and obediently dashed over to their cage and kneeled down next to them.

"Hey, Captain Man. It's me, Jasper." The kid smiled at his hero pleasantly, as (y/n) suddenly became very aware of how she and Ray were positioned. She would surely be having some sinful dreams tonight.

"I'm aware." Ray deadpanned the boy, who was being painfully slow in his rescue of the two adults.

"Great, now, here's my plan." Jasper started, having concocted his scheme on his mad dash to the pet store.

"Kill me." (y/n) mumbled to herself under her breath. She knew Jasper meant well, but her lower stomach was burning with desire and she was having to bite her lip to stop herself from moaning when Ray's hot breath hit her neck.

"I'll go to the men's room," Jasper said, wanting the hero to be fully up to speed with everything.

"Yeah..." Ray sighed, tensing his muscles in impatience, which made his assistant squirm against him, thus making the tension between them grow even thicker and hotter.

"You tell the bad guy that you gotta pee like real bad." Henry frowned as he listened in on the plan, thinking it sounded completely crazy.

"Uh-huh." He smiled politely, even though his thoughts were anything but polite or innocent at that moment.

"He'll let you both go to the bathroom and I'll be waiting for ya." Jasper finished, but (y/n) was too impatient for him to wrap it all up.

"Hey, could I pitch an idea?" She asked in a slightly irritated tone.

"Sure, Miss Danger." Jasper smiled, welcoming the notion of new suggestions.

"Let us out of this damn cage." She demanded and Jasper realised that her plan was easier than his.

"Right." he nodded and quickly flicked the lock on the door, allowing both her and Ray to crawl out before they drowned in their suffocating desire. 

"Thank you, son." Captain Man told Jasper gratefully as he and the young woman stood up and stretched their tight limbs. It felt so good to be back on their feet and even better to be able to quell the fires in their bellies by standing apart.

"Can you let me out now?" Henry asked hopefully as he squatted in his cage, but his boss wasn't ready to forgive him yet.

"No!" He snapped, halting Jasper in his tracks.

"Stay there and think about what you have done." (y/n) scolded him as she bent down to his eye level, truly feeling like she was talking to a little boy who had stolen some candy or something. 

"Hey, Dirk. Come out! We're out of the...thing." Ray called out to the criminal, who was apparently named "Dirk" and nonchalantly leaned against the counter as the man stampeded into the room.

"What? Who let you out of that carrier? You better get back in their right no--" Ray was ready to beat the guy to a pulp, but (y/n) felt like she deserved a piece of the action too. Thinking back to her earlier training, she swung at Dirk like she had done to Ray earlier and knocked the guy out with one swift, powerful blow. Damn; the caged customers and Jasper clapped her impressive feat of strength as Ray gazed at her with pride and love. He had picked the right girl for him.

"Woah, that was so amazing. Now, will you let me out of this animal box?" Henry whined, feeling puny and pathetic in the small crate. Jasper quickly unhooked the lock as Ray did the same to the trapped man, woman and child.

"Okay, you're free. Latch is open, congratulations, climb outta there." He said as Henry strolled over to him and (y/n) bashfully. 

"No way! Look, a Mexican Red Rump! I've wanted one of these spiders since I was little." Jasper gasped when he saw the lethal arachnid still sitting in the plastic terrarium.

"So, buy one," Henry told him, thinking it was no big deal.

"Dude, they're 150 bucks," Jasper replied dejectedly as he saw the price list on the wall. He couldn't even afford half of that.

"Hey, that's the kid who stopped the motorcycle bandit the other day." One of the freed customers gasped when he recognised Jasper. Henry rolled his eyes jealously, his envy still burning brightly.

"You saved Captain Man and his new sidekick, who saved us!" The lady added too, as Ray and (y/n) shared shy, knowing looks.

"You're a hero."

"Again!" They smiled at the curly-haired boy, who was just happy to help. He didn't think he was the one who saved the day.

"Nah, Miss Danger's the one who punched him." He said, humbly, resulting in (y/n) putting her hand on his shoulder. Henry could learn a thing or two from his best friend.

"Oh, no, no, no. Jasper, we all owe you a big, wet thank you." She smiled at him and Ray nodded along with her. 

"Don't we, boy we don't know?" The superhero added on the end, turning around to sharply look at Henry.

"Wet?" He repeated in confusion as he sulked. He wanted to be a hero...

"No, Henry doesn't need to thank me. This guy's my best friend and he'd have done the same thing for me." Jasper stated loyally and his kind words melted the jealousy in Henry's heart. He realised he had been so stupid and decided that Jasper was indeed a hero.

"Well, Jasper, I bet you feel pretty good right now," Ray commented, making the boy look at his shoes shyly. It was nice for the two adults to know that Henry had such a good friend to steer him back to the right path when his ego got the better of him. 

"I do." He smiled brightly, his chest puffed out with pride.

"And how about you? How do you feel? Kinda gross, huh? " (y/n) poked Henry's elbow as he pouted from how dumb he'd acted.

"Whatever". He shrugged as she teased his grouchy mood. He sure had a lot to learn about being a hero and a good friend, but he had some great people supporting him all the way, and that was all that mattered.

[the360mag]

Exploring the Allure of Automobilia: A Tribute to Automobilia Magazine

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[beansricejc]

JOHN WICK x READER - The Courier

part 4!

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

summary: John sneaks into your apartment to surprise you when you get home, and asks for you two to become official. Then y’all finally get steamy in the bedroom, where he talks you through it the whole time. Female reader, 3270 words.

author’s note: thx for following so far! if you’re new here, I’d recommend reading the previous parts but it is not necessary! feel free to lmk what you think! I love reading what u have to say! thx 💕

warnings: cursing, p in v, relationship talk, breaking & entering, alcohol, implied organized crime, significant age gap. 🔞

Your condo was surprisingly easy to break into. Well, for John that is, and John’s the best there is. It’s no surprise that getting into your place without a key is a walk in the park to him. 

It’s been about a month and a half since the pair of you began to see each other. People John’s age would call it casual dating. People your age would call it a situationship.

One of the biggest challenges was John trying to keep up with your lingo, and then whenever he’d try to use it in a sentence, he’d fail drastically. 

Enough of that. 

John’s lurking around in your living room. He’s been here a few times before. Dinner, drinks, movies, and gaming nights, you name it. John’s Casanova identity was slowly being torn apart by you. He had developed feelings for you that he was convinced would never appear again after the death of his wife. 

The last place he thought those feelings would come from was a young crime boss. The sheer idea of it almost made him laugh, even if it was true. 

Tonight, he’s going to ask you to make it official. A public romantic relationship, between a budding crime lord, and an infamous hitman. 

It sounded ridiculous, yet it was all John wanted. 

-

Meanwhile, you’re driving back home from a very frustrating work meeting. 

The title of work meeting was a very loose term. It mostly consisted of you berating some of your workers for fucking up a decent sized delivery. Two of your employees had totaled their motorcycles, and were suffering from road rash, and the other one forgot to fill up on gas before the job.

Fucking idiots.

That didn’t matter now, you were blaring some A$AP Ferg just to let out some frustration, your Audi R8 was a fantastic car to speed down the highway in. You, of course, specialized in riding a motorcycle but fall was on its way, evident by the chill in the air. 

The plan for you tonight was to get home, drink half a bottle of Plum Sake, and pass out to some sort of Netflix Original playing on your tv. 

You thought about shooting John a text since he had messaged you a few hours ago. You decided you would text him once you got home.  

-

John was admiring your home aesthetic, he had complimented it a few times. You really had the 70s vibe down to a T. The nostalgia was almost overwhelming to him, you were a 2000s baby, and John was, well, not. 

John was surprised that you hadn’t said anything to show that you hated the age gap you two had, except for the occasional old man diss. 

John took a closer look at some pictures that were in frames on a shelf. He didn’t know exactly what they were. If he was a betting man, it would be a high school graduation photo with friends, vacation pictures, and then some competitive Motocross racing images.

“Damn, badass.” John chuckled, it was interesting getting an insider look at your life since you are a crime lord after all. 

-

You parked your car in the garage and made your way to your condo, a few floors up and a few doors down. Your stupid key was so hard to find in your purse, and you almost gave up looking for it out of pure exhaustion. However, you managed, sighing as you opened your door and kicked your shoes off onto the rack. 

You didn’t notice John at all. No one ever did. He was an expert, and experts act like ghosts when they need to. 

You hung your purse up on a hook and immediately went for the kitchen and into the fridge, searching for sparkling water to chug. You didn’t know why but the burn of it going down your throat was really great feeling. To you at least. 

As you grabbed a can, you could tell something was off. You weren’t that dumb. Any normal person would have gone about their business as usual, you picked up on a presence in less than two minutes. Impressive. 

“Hey, cutie.” John’s voice suddenly appeared from your living room, his tall and menacing figure emerging from the shadows of your dark condo. You jump, grab your gun that’s in your back holster, and stop abruptly after you realized it was John. You went into panic mode from hearing his voice and gasped to settle yourself down. 

“Shithead! Oh my god, you scared the fuck out of me!” You exclaim, there are actually a million other things you’d like to say right now. 

“Asshole!”

“I’m gonna knock your teeth in.”

“Holy shit, you’re hot as fuck.” 

Those were a few examples, of course, you didn’t say any of them. They were still going through your head though. 

John was cackling from the living room while he stepped towards you, you put your firearm down on your kitchen counter, fuming at the fact that he somehow broke in, and almost gave you a heart attack. John absolutely loved teasing you, watching your face getting frustrated or flustered really did something to him that he couldn’t explain. 

John joined you in the kitchen as you were calming yourself down, the danger you were in being a false alarm. He gave out a throaty deep chuckle, looking down at you with those menacing brown eyes. 

They were never menacing towards you. John couldn’t even imagine the thought of doing something to hurt you or to even intentionally scare you. Over the past month, he’s grown to like you more and more, a thought that scared the shit out of him. He’s gonna do it. He’s going to ask you to be his girlfriend. 

What a juvenile term, he felt much too old to even use that word but what else was there? 

John hadn’t exactly figured out how he was going to ask, one thing was for sure, it would happen tonight. 

He didn’t know why but tonight just felt like a really good choice. 

John’s long dark hair is slightly draped over his chiseled face, his eyes peering through the strands directly at you. 

“Sorry, angel. You’re just so cute when you get scared.” John tells you. You’re currently putting on the biggest pouty face you can manage right now, just to show your disdain for his prank. 

You can hardly be mad at the man. He’s just so damn attractive. He’s even wearing a tee shirt, you have never seen him wear one before. John’s toned biceps are peeking out of his short sleeves. Your eyes can’t help but drink in the sight of his bare arms. Multiple scars and bruises are sprinkled throughout his skin, ones you have yet to hear stories of, or even see. 

You snap out of your fan service moment when John takes his large hand to ruffle your hair. He loved the feeling of your thick and soft hair against his skin, and the smell? He had no idea what type of shampoo you used, the smell of it was embedded into his memory and only associated with you now. 

Raspberries, and coconut? That was probably the closest he’d get to guessing the scent. 

“I should upgrade your security here, it took me like 20 seconds to get in. I expected better from a criminal mastermind.” John tsked at you, playfully disappointed. 

He takes the chance to lean against your kitchen’s island, crossing his legs but his gaze has yet to leave you. 

You’re such a beautiful creature. 

The sight of John’s casual lean stirs something inside of your chest. 

Christ, can this guy get any sexier? You think to yourself. 

“Sorry, guess I haven’t looked into that yet.” you stammer. John waves you over, and you take a few steps towards him, laying against his body and setting your head on his chest. You press your ear to him, listening to the soft thuds of his heartbeat, the organ doing its job to keep pumping blood through this lethal man. 

“Hey, uh, let’s talk for a sec.” John says suddenly after about a minute of mutual silence. You scrunch your eyebrows and peer up at him, curious. Why did he sound so serious all of a sudden? He looked nervous almost. 

“Yeah, sure, what’s up?” you ask. 

John is quiet for a few seconds, it looked like he was trying to find the right words to say. You’re really enjoying laying against him since his body is so warm, and definitely not because of the muscles you can feel against your own. 

“So.” He starts. “What do you say we make our little situation exclusive?” 

Your eyes widen. No way. Absolutely no way. Was John fucking Wick asking you to be, oh Jesus Christ. The deadly playboy was being serious, and you can tell based on how his brown eyes are soft but with anticipation growing inside of them. 

Oh my god. 

You were clearly interested, even if both of your schedules clashed with each other. You two were well-known workaholics in the criminal underworld, the few times you got to see him a week were very romantic, however, short-lived. 

With this in mind, your time spent together was amazing but as far as the physical aspects, you two were taking it slow. You of course were doing it unintentionally, work tired you out, you haven’t really done anything sexual of the sort in years because of your painstakingly busy work life, and so on and so forth. 

John, on the other hand, was becoming a bit sexually frustrated. He really loved your wholesome time spent together, he did! Just, sometimes the way your pants fit around those hips and ass of yours, his mind tended to, wander, to say the least. 

“Are you asking if you can be my boyfriend, Johnathan?” you inquire, walking your pointer and middle finger up his chest to fidget with the hem of his black tee shirt. You were attempting to calm yourself down but were failing miserably, just the sight of John looking down at you in that idyllic gaze of his was driving you absolutely nuts. A soft but low hum escaped his lips. 

“Or maybe, I’m asking you to be my girlfriend,” he whispered down at you. 

You don’t really know why but you laugh. 

“Same question, different fonts.” you giggle. John huffs in amusement at your statement. He still doesn’t know where you come up with these things, or really how internet culture works. 

“God, you guys, and your memes.” he sighed. “You can’t leave a man hangin’ like this, angel. What’s it gonna be?” 

You haven’t had a real relationship in years, and it seems like John is in the same boat as you. He’s mentioned his late wife only once to you, obviously, it was a sore subject. He was serious about starting anew with you it seemed. 

“I wouldn’t want to be anybody else’s.” you murmur to him. 

John’s immediately filled with glee, and he squeezes you in a death lock of a hug. You eyes bulge as you attempt to hug him back but your arms, or anything really, are unable to move. 

Well, it’s official. The two of you shared an excited kiss before he goes to your living room, revealing the very nice bottle of wine he brought to celebrate the occasion. 

It seemed like he was betting on you saying yes. 

You’re quite flattered by his confidence, and grab two wine glasses from your liquor cabinet before you two sit on your orange couch and share the bottle with each other. 

Fun conversation ensues. You two are a fantastic couple, you guys found that out a few hang-outs in. John thought you were hilarious, and he definitely had his moments. The man was a total flirt, even after you two had been dating for the past month. 

Conversation turns into joking, joking turned into play fighting, and next thing you knew he was laying you down on your couch, your legs wrapped around his waist as he pressed his hard on in between your thighs. 

“We have too many clothes on, can we change that?” John asked as he stripped his shirt right off of his torso. 

What a sight to behold. 

Despite John being in his mid-forties, he has stayed in shape for the sake of his career, and it shows. Toned muscles have been revealed above you, and you’re honestly shocked. It’s the shape he’s in and the scars that got you, John noticed as your eyes dart to the different marks on his body. 

“Do I rock the bad boy look?” he slyly asks, his hands wiggling under you and lifting your body up and over his shoulder as he brought you to your bedroom, despite your gasp of surprise and hysterical laughter. 

You’re finally at an angle where you can see his tattoos, you didn’t know he had any. His back is covered, you can make out a Latin phrase and, a wolf. Was that a wolf? Guess he was Team Jacob all along. 

You squeal as he plops you onto your queen-sized mattress, and your lips crash into each other, desperately craving the other’s touch. John’s hands assist you in peeling off your shirt and jeans, tossing the clothing to the wooden floor. His breathing seems to heighten at the image of you in only a seamless bra and a thong, your soft skin, curves, everything is better than he had ever imagined. 

He’s going to absolutely ruin you. 

Minutes pass, and the sting of John’s beard dragging along your inner thighs is a sensation that is completely unfamiliar to you. Your hands are grappling at your duvet from underneath your now nude body, as John’s tongue is sloppily circling your swollen clit, and some inhuman noises are erupting from your throat.

“H-holy, fuck!” you shriek. You were no virgin but you haven’t been intimate with anyone for a few years. 

John couldn’t say the same thing. 

You knew what good was even if it has been a long while, and this was fucking immaculate. John dips two long fingers into your core, his eyes boring into yours while he was devouring your cunt. 

“You’re such a good fucking girl,” John mumbled into your pussy as he continued to lap you up with his mouth, the vibration of his words almost sending you over the edge. John’s using that signature come here motion with his fingers inside of you, and your hips buck, legs wrapping around his neck and squeezing to force him to stay in his current position. 

He had honestly forgotten how strong you are. 

He’s fucking obsessed. 

His other hand is stroking his completely erect cock, making sure he’s good and ready to claim you as his. 

You’re strong but John’s stronger. He’s able to easily push past your thigh’s grasp, you’re almost seeing double from the pure ecstasy he’s been so gracious to gift you. His mouth and chin are slick with your juices, his tongue dragging over his lips while he smiled down at you to savor your taste. 

You can barely think. Holy fuck, was this actually happening right now? Did John Wick make a deal with the Devil to have the ultimate skill of giving head? 

You blink a few times and catch a glimpse of John’s erection. Jesus Christ, it’s way bigger than you had ever pictured it. 

“J-John, that’s not going to fit!” you cry out at him, as much as you want him, that thing is fucking huge. John tilted his head of sweaty, messy, long hair, raising his eyebrows and giving you a chuckle. “Seriously? Baby girl, how long has it been for you?” John questions, spitting into his palm and giving himself a few more tugs to hold himself over. Somehow, your face becomes redder than it was already. 

“Uh, a few years,” you admit, embarrassed to even say it out loud. “Just, don’t really have the time.” 

That admission throws John completely off. It doesn’t stop him from rubbing his bare tip against your slick and swollen entrance. “Don’t worry, angel, I’ll change that.” he smirked down at you, his eyes are all over your nude body below him on the bed. You only reply with a small squeak in response to the sensation of his tip on you. “Just, trust me, princess. Can you do that, trust me?” John asks, leaning completely over you so he’s just a few inches above your sweaty face. You nod while he pushes into you, and there’s a lot of resistance to him, despite the several minutes of foreplay he had provided you. You grit your teeth and grip his back. 

“Hey, hey, you’re tense.” John murmurs, grazing your cheek with the back of his hand. You two maintain eye contact as he’s gently entering you. “Can you take a deep breath?” 

You listen to him, taking a deep breath, and even you can tell the difference in feeling down in your core. “See, look at that, you just need to relax for me, baby girl. Take another one for me.” John orders you sweetly.

You oblige. 

John lets out a deep breath, your tight cunt is almost overwhelming to him. After your deep breaths, your pussy is letting up and welcoming him now. 

“See, you feel that? You’re taking me in all by yourself now, good girl.” John praises while you respond with unintelligible whimpers, his lips peppering kisses onto your sweaty forehead. 

You can feel his entire length inside of you at this point, he’s so deep, you swear you can feel him in your cervix. You gasp before he continues, sliding in and out of you at a gentle and steady pace, nipping and sucking onto your neck and collarbone. This is sure to leave marks later but he could care less. People should know who you belong to. 

“You like that, baby?” he asks as he thrusts at a faster and deeper rate, you moan affirmatively, you can’t seem to respond in English at the moment, only squeals and whimpers that he can’t help but be attracted to. One of John’s hands travel to your cunny, skillfully rubbing his thumb over your tortured clit. You let out a small scream, your nails digging into his muscular back, he’s doing the same to your hip, so the feeling was mutual. 

John can feel your cunt tighten around his fast moving cock, he wasn’t going to last much longer like this, especially with no condom on. 

You were in the same boat though.

“J-john, fuck! I wanna cum so bad!” you mewl out, John throws a dark chuckle your way. The timing was spot on.

“You want me on your stomach, face?” He asked. 

“Just, just, do it, I don’t care!” You gasp, approaching your climax while he continued to rub your clit as he pounded into your tight little cunny.

“Don’t care, huh? Interesting.” He grunts. “I’ll make you my little Twinkie then, alright?” 

You’re quite literally in the middle of a tear jerking orgasm while he says this, so you really don’t have time to react to the absolutely ridiculous phrase. Your trembling legs and shaky grasp on his body is what sends John over, he cursed and grunted, releasing all the way into your cunt. Ropes of cum shoot into you, and you twitch at the sensation. 

You’re both trying your best to catch your breath as he pressed his forehead to yours and chuckled. 

“Did you just call me a fucking Hostess snack?” you huff out, and he can’t help but burst out laughing. 

“Yeah, I think I did.”