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gamermattsgf · 2 months

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Tokyo drifters // drag racer Chris

Warnings: car sex / tit fuck / cum kink / fingering / cunnalingus / size kink / spit kink / enemies to lovers trope / dangerous driving ig (?) / mentions of smoking and brief mentions of alcohol / praise kink

Summary: what do you get when you cross a competitive drag racer with an equally as competitive opponent? Smoke, engine oil and a whole lot of sexual tension, that’s what.

Author’s notes: and so let the obsession with racer fics begin, but with a Chris flavoured twist. Chris strikes me as the illegal, reckless driver type, hence my modern twist on something very fast and furious-esque. Chris x drag racing actually makes me wet u guys I fucking love it, like- imagine him drifting around in a red Nissan Skyline gtr with his black and white leather jacket on, UGH it really just gets me going…

“We could do whatever you want, you could fuck me in the back of your car” - HER, Chase Atlantic

The black asphalt glimmers with a coat of wetness and a pattern of oil spillage slicked over the top of it, the technicolour rainbow greased and worming in the fluorescent lights of the street as the heavy hum of revved engines purr in your ears and echo across the emptied roads.

Beer bottles and cans splash here and there on the dripping concrete with discarded cigarette cases and lighters balanced on top of littered leather jackets.

Illegal drag racing. Bets. Stacks of money shoved into the pockets of the driver that is triumphant at the end of the night.

You’re here because this place is rife with the best of the best. The ones who really soak their hands in the leather of their steering wheels, who breathe the musk of their seats, and who burn the rubber marks of their legacies into the very streets that they rocket through each early A.M.

At present you stand to the side of the pavement, smelling the stench of broiling petrol mingled with the scent of flavoured cigarette smoke.

Your eyes survey the various Suzukis, Mustangs and Toyota drifters, all in different colours and all with different painted decals to signify each of the driver’s unique personality, wrinkling your nose at the lack of female drivers leaning against their own cars.

There are plenty of people here.

The rules are simple, you bet on the driver you wager is going to win and then whatever number of votes the driver receives determines their starting position at the beginning of the race.

As your eyes pass over the mingling people chatting in heaped groups with different drivers, you dismally notice the one person who you most definitely did not want to run into tonight. The only other person who can match your speed.

Great. Well that’s just fucking fantastic.

He is on his own. His lanky figure leaning against his electric red Nissan drifter with sleek black wheels and windows, his raven brown hair dusting his face in waving curls as his hands tuck themselves into his black and white leather racer jacket.

A long white cigarette lies perched in between his lips, smoke lazily oozing out from the lit cherry before dispersing into the cool night air in front of him.

He makes no effort to smoke it properly, simply lets it rest in between the purse of his lips whilst he too, observes his competition.

That is, until his eyes trail their way over to you. Now you’re both looking at each other, and he finds it within himself to cockily smirk, your silent rivalry unnoticed by the rest of the bustling audience here to simply bet and watch the race.

You scoff quietly, pushing your feet into a walk, you’ve got to go and talk to him now.

You gradually make your way across the sopping wet tarmac road, heading straight in the direction of the one man who always knows how to rub you the wrong way.

As you go, you fish one of your own cigarettes out of your cigarette case, and then light it. It sparks, and he raises his eyebrows expectantly whilst waiting for you to reach him.

When you do, you stop and nod at him in greeting, mumbling a curt ‘Chris’ after whipping your cigarette from out of your mouth and resting it within your pointer and middle finger.

To contrast your cold behaviour, your arch nemesis tilts his head playfully, his smugness practically oozing from his figure as he retorts with a ‘hey sugar… ready to lose tonight?’. Your nostrils flare.

The only reason you came tonight to race is because you didn’t think Chris would be here.

You fucking hate racing him, in fact, you hate even being within a close proximity to him. He drives you up the wall, irritates you to no end and most importantly- absolutely chokes you with conflicted feelings.

Because how can someone that you hate this much also be someone you feel so irresistibly attracted to?

Chris always finds the most painful of ways to dig under your skin and clamp his claws around you until you’re gasping for air and practically begging to be let free.

Free from the inescapable prison that coaxes you into constantly thinking about him, even when he’s not around.

‘You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you win tonight, that money is mine’ you spit a laugh, before feeding your cigarette into your mouth and inhaling it to calm your nerves. He makes your fingers twitch, and sometimes you’re not sure if it’s because you want to wrap them around his throat or use them to pull his neck down into a kiss.

He raises his eyebrows and starts to once again use the mocking lilt to his tone that you know oh-so-well. ‘Oh really? Because last time I checked I’m pretty sure that money had my name on it’. He readjusts his lean on his red Nissan to make himself seem taller, and you grit your teeth at his teasing antics.

You don’t answer, and instead open you mouth. Chris watches the smoke that you had been holding in your lungs come seductively curling out, and he swallows nervously. It mingles between you two like a barrier of attraction before melting away into the damp air above you as you resume your usual grilling.

‘How’d you even find out about this race anyway? Thought you stayed on the South side?’

Chris shrugs and basks in the obvious annoyance your voice contains. He knows he’s in dangerous territory, this is your side of town, and you know the roads way better than him over here. But then again, when has Chris ever backed down from a challenge?

Plus, he fucking loves teasing you. He gets such a rise out of it every single time, in which case it’s worth hauling his ass all the way over to the other side town just for a race.

Just to see you.

He can’t help it, he just can’t keep himself away.

‘Friend of a friend’ he responds vaguely, before deciding to pluck the almost burnt out cigarette from his lips so that he can thrust it to the floor and crush it underneath his sneaker.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. You can’t believe that Chris managed to weasel his way into this race, because it’s definitely going to ruin your chances of going home with that prize money. To say Chris is a reckless driver is an understatement, he’s fucking good, but he also takes risks, risks that bargain with his life and the lives of others, so naturally, when people see his notorious red car pull up to races they panic and stay far behind him.

Not you though.

‘You best count your fucking days Chris because there’s no way in hell I’m letting you win this time…’.

Chris chuckles, his eyes narrowing in a siren-like way before reaching up to your mouth and slowly pulling your cigarette from out of your lips. ‘Yeah…? Well we’ll see about that, won’t we baby cakes?’ he chides, before fully stealing your cigarette and putting it into his own mouth without hesitation.

Your blood boils at his persistence and you spin around in a rage, wishing you could just run him over with your car. At least that would stop the heartbeat from pulsing in between your legs at his weirdly sexual action.

After watching you whisk away, Chris quickly gets into his car and slams his red door closed, satisfied with how flustered you had looked. Revving his engine with a humongous effort to get the race going, he knuckles his leather steering wheel before pulling away from the crowd to let them know that the race will shortly commence.

He is definitely eager to prove you wrong as he observes the way the heavy crowd of people disperse from the middle of the road and let the competitors and their cars through to their designated spots for the countdown.

Engines throttle and rev, starting up and growling like hungry beasts whilst you get into your own car. You then drive to your own assigned spot which had been conveniently placed somewhere in the middle for tonight’s race.

Suddenly, you spot a flash of red roaring up from behind you in your rear view mirror and you resist the roll of your eyes at Chris’ boy racer behaviour.

Chris’ car comes creeping up to level with yours. Slowly, the driver’s window is rolled down and you are faced with his attractive side profile, his nose delicately curving and his jawline popped. Except, now his hair is pulled back by a red bandana, leaving his earrings to glint in the fluorescent artificial light.

He faces forward, but then turns with another smirk plastered to his lips.

You roll your own window down, your engine also screaming to go, but instead of a red colour, your car exudes a violet purple hue, your front and rear lights tinted indigo with plastic filters that make the car in front of you glow a hazy pink.

‘May the best driver win, sugar’

The devil’s smile is concocted between his own teeth, the cheeky glint in his eye echoing the way he mockingly puts his pointer and middle finger up to his forehead to salute you before putting his foot on the gas pedal and roaring ahead to take his privileged place at the front of the line.

᧔♡᧓

Engines growl, their exhaust pipes spitting out puffs of gasoline scented smoke whilst each of the multicoloured cars creep into their places.

An orange car motors past you on your right, and a grey and blue one slides past your left, leaving you in the wet spray that their scuffed tyres kick up, but you’re not paying attention to them.

Craning your neck, your eyes narrow and your jaw grits at the back bumper tail of Chris’ neon red vehicle, the red brake lights glowing like the eyes of a demon as he simply sits stationary.

The city lights glow from the skyscrapers and illuminate the starting route of your racetrack, the wet asphalt making the reflections of the luminescent lampposts shine and bounce about the technicolour array of cars on display.

Chris thinks he’s better than you? Well, you’re just going to have to put that theory to the test then.

You hope that his heart beats just as competitively as yours, his eyes constantly checking for your pink headlights in his rearview mirror.

Finally, reaching into your glove compartment to slide on your black tinted sunglasses, you shut it back up again to listen to the heavily increased revs of car engines. The muffled cheers from the audience provide white background noise whilst the drivers’ exhausts rattle and their pipes growl.

A woman in sky-high stilettos then comes walking into view with a white flag raised above her head.

The crowd suddenly silences, all on the edges of their seats with anticipation.

Without another moment to lose, she quickly swipes down the flag, the white fabric fluttering as she goes before engines shriek and cars jerk forward, each driver putting the pedal to the floor. This forceful way of starting roars the inner workings of their cars whilst they frantically try to switch gears.

Coloured machines weave in and out of each other as the gods of drag racing look down upon the fast-paced urgency of the race, drivers testing one another and pushing their bodies to the limits as they zip and swerve about the road.

You keep your eyes locked upon Chris’ monster of a car though, because it easily pulls out in front and his drive forward quickly clears of any other cars. They just can’t keep up with his intricate drift work and very readily fall behind him.

You’ll admit, his turn of the wheel is masterful and his eye for the surroundings is impeccable as he nearly just shaves around corners and obstacles whilst keeping a steady track of the pathway ahead. However, this only increases your desire to win more.

You find your foot gently feathering upon the accelerator, your car rattling within your ears as the wind from your open window beats against your face and whips your hair around your neck.

You have already overtaken a handful of cars by now, with tyres screeching and smoke exuding from the rubber.

The eyes of every racer competing constantly zip about, just to check for lurking police cruises whilst traveling down the racer’s route through the nearly abandoned city road.

Your beasts for machines rocket past alleyways, giving homeless people a show as your paint jobs flash by their eyes in a juvenile blur.

Gears click as both yourself and Chris constantly press down on the clutch to drift around tight corners, your teeth gritting as you realise that you are now only a few competitive cars behind him.

Chris, meanwhile, frantically looks through his wing mirror to count how many cars lie between yourself and him.

But, then he widens his eyes and has to adjust it in confusion at the infuriating sight of your purple car hightailing it up the road to try and catch him. Already?

This always fucking happens whenever he gets a head start.

He rolls his eyes, stepping on his gas pedal even more to makes his car groan and jerk away on in front once again.

His bandana stays secured onto his head whilst he chews irritably against a fresh toothpick selected from out of his own glove compartment that also contains random junk such as cherry cigarette packets and condoms.

‘Fuckin’ woman’ He spits underneath his breath before aggressively jerking his wheel to the side and rounding another corner perfectly. His car skids and his wheels screech over the asphalt, centimetres away from hitting the curb before he’s straightening his steering wheel up again.

This time though, he can see the finish line in the distance, the small crowd of spectators gathering like little observant ants, watching as his car comes racing towards them from the mist of the city horizon.

However, you come in straight behind him with your engine roaring and your gasoline bubbles popping. Soon, your window reaches his, and you look to your left to see his side profile.

His jaw is clenched with his eyes narrowed and his eyebrows sitting in a glared furrow. His pupils then quickly flit to your car, and you pass each other a challenging look, hate spiralling within your gazes.

And everything is passive between the two of you, that is, until Chris decides to fight dirty.

His lips purse and he yanks his neck to face forward once again, before turning his wheel aggressively. His drifter then swerves near your wheels, nearly knocking you off to the side and sending you skidding into the curb. You frantically have to straighten back up again after only narrowly avoiding the crunch of his front bonnet.

That fucker.

‘HEY!?’

You yell to him with your window down, but he puts his own one up in response, his lips twitching up into a mischievous smile as he tries to tango with you upon the stretch of your own battlefield containing engine oil and concrete road strips.

He goes in for another direct hit, your tyres dangerously close to each other’s as his machinery tries to ram into yours.

Worryingly, you realise that Chris probably isn’t going to stop this dangerous teasing because of his determination to win. So, through your better judgement, you slow yourself and defeatedly allow his cocky red bumper to cut in front of your bonnet.

Chris beats you by a second, his wheels screeching over the pathetic make-shift line drawn in squiggly black graffiti.

You’re practically seething at this point.

After you angrily jerk your steering wheel, your car drifts to the side and it expels hot smoke from the grind it has against your back tyres before coming to a sideways halt.

You put your car in park, take off your seatbelt and speedily open your car door.

As you step out, you see that Chris has also stopped and gotten out himself, his sneakers crunching against the wet tarmac and his leather jacket squeaking whilst he slams his own car door shut behind him.

You clock eyes with each other and immediately find yourself storming up to his victorious figure that yet again leans against his car door suavely.

Whilst making your way over, someone sidles up to him and hands him a thick wad of cash that he stuffs right into his conniving little pockets with a mean smile of his face, aimed directly at you.

As you reach him, you just can’t help yourself, and before you know it you’re knuckling your fists into his leather jacket and yanking him right down to your face. His breath hitches in shock as he sees your lips close enough to claim that you are practically kissing.

Instead of actually kissing him however, you spit out a ‘what the fuck are you playing at?’ with your eyes narrowed and glinting frostily in the city lights.

They travel over his face, scanning him with scepticism whilst little strands of his raven brown hair curl out from the hold of his red bandana, no longer combing the shorter ones back and just letting them freely swish about his eyes in the wind.

‘Listen honey if you want me to pay for any scratches I gave to your paint job no can do, told you that money was mine…-‘ he cheekily retorts, using one of his ridiculously irritating nicknames for you to further worsen your drumming heart beat.

You didn’t realise you had pulled him this close until now.

This makes your nostrils flare with anger and you quickly release him, seemingly in denial of your own feelings as you listening to the way the zips of his leather jacket jingle at the force of your strength.

You scoff, sticking your nose up and further voicing your discontent at him.

‘Chris- you fucking cheated?!’ You shout with a small laugh in disbelief, your arms crossed over your chest as you refer to his illegal drag collision.

‘No proof? Didn’t happen, sweetheart’ he sassily bites back at you, which makes you falter, but your glare only harshens after he immaturely pokes the centre of your chest.

Does this man just make it his mission to piss you off as much as humanly possible?

Both of you maintain tense eye contact, your chest heaving whilst Chris’ eyes subtly flick downwards to soak in the look of your body.

As more coloured drifters cruise past the finish line, the silence gets awkward, awkward enough for you to spontaneously shouts a shaky ‘I want a fucking rematch!’, not really sure what provoked you to voice this random request. Usually, you couldn’t bear to be around Chris for more than 5 seconds at a time.

So why did you all of a sudden have the urge to be alone with him?

The way you look at him prompts Chris to suspect that this request probably isn’t just about having a rematch, that in fact it’s something much deeper… what that is, he doesn’t know yet, but he’s prepared to find out.

Clearing his throat, he slips a box of cherry scented cigarettes from out of his leather jacket whilst looking around wearily. You swallow, and watch him in silence as he puts one into his mouth and flicks on his lighter. Holding it up to the cherry, it sparks, and a small wisp of smoke puffs out from his pursed mouth.

He opens the door of his Nissan once again before sliding inside.

The scent of maraschino cherries diffuses across his ride and melts into the white leather seats as he shuts his door before using his hand to turn on the ignition. Then, he rolls down his window to thankfully still see you standing there expectantly and waiting for an answer.

Chris simply sits back in his seat, watching the wind comb through your hair as sickly sweet cherry flavoured smoke finds its way up into your nose.

‘Well?’ You raise your eyebrows and snap at him, your hip cocking sassily. But even though your exterior front looks confident, your insides panic and your mouth becomes dry at the very much tangible sexual tension within the air.

Chris looks forward for a second, leaving the both of you in silence once again so that you can take in the far away laughs and clinks of beer bottles from the left over straggling gamblers that are now only talking about Chris.

He squints his eyes with his cigarette still in his mouth, deep in thought, before crinkling his nose and sniffing, reaching his hand out to twist the keys of his car in the ignition properly. His car rumbles to life as he takes out his cigarette, resting it in between his two fingertips.

That arm decides to leans itself on the car door as his wrist and hand dangle out of the window.

‘Meet me at Carolina Point at 3am’

He mumbles to you, as if not wanting anyone else to know about this secret little rendezvous before he’s pushing down the handbrake of his car and it’s lunging forward.

He motors away with a singular hand gripping the steering wheel, turning it smoothly and leaving you with the remnants of his car exhaust fumes, his cherry cigarette butts and the smell of his black and white leather jacket.

᧔♡᧓

It’s 3am.

And music quietly hums from your radio as you pull up next to Chris’ parked car, the glittering red paint job a flashy eyesore when matched with the dark background of the skyline.

Carolina point overlooks a section of the city that is well known by racers like him and yourself and so it provides a nice backdrop for the strange meeting that you two are about to have. Chris sits on the bonnet of his car, looking down to the veins of his city before twisting his neck to observe the way you get out of your own car.

A small smile ticks at the side of his lips before he quickly wipes it away and stands up from his bonnet, the machinery creaking and the suspension bouncing upwards after being released from his weight.

‘Surprised you came’ he muses, before spitting the old toothpick from in between his lips into the long grass.

You roll your eyes and meet him halfway, already nervous about being alone with him in such a close proximity, especially after what had already unfolded between you two beforehand.

‘Course I did, you cheated’ you muse spitefully, and stop right in front of his taller frame. But Chris edges a little bit closer after you had come to a halt, which makes your palms sweat.

You try to keep your composure, fully intent on getting on with the business of the rematch you had wanted, until you fail when you physically watch the way Chris’ eyes dilated at the sight of you.

It makes you nervous to see his body react to you in such a way, and that nervousness only gets worse after he intentionally lowers his voice to purr a quiet ‘oh yeah? An’ how are we gonna fix that hm?’. His head tilts and his tone is as smooth as caramel, the tease almost belittling in manner.

Your chest expands with a stuttering deep breath, the smell of cherries tart on his tongue and overwhelming as the scent stains his jacket too.

Your heart quickens in pace the closer Chris’ head gets to yours, but you don’t move back, even though every siren in your body imaginable screams that this is so terribly fucking wrong.

You blink up at him, almost forgetting why you’re supposed to be here before dumbly stuttering ‘b-by having a rematch…’.

Chris looks at you so hungrily… so primally, and you hardly even get the time to finish your sentence before your mouth is being engulfed by his. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, and neither do you.

His lips are soft and buttery as they rub against yours, your whole entire body stiff and your eyes wide, before you ever so slowly melt into his embrace.

Chris utters a quiet whimper of content and the noise almost makes you squeeze your thighs together. You didn’t even realise Chris was capable of making a noise like that.

Your lips smack together after Chris pulls away, saliva wetting the moist pink skin.

You’re trapped within a daze, utterly stunned and drunk on the taste of his mouth. Chris’ eyelashes feather, and he bites his lip in nervousness, testing the waters of what he’s just done to you. But you look as though you’re absolutely enamoured by it and so he grins in satisfaction.

He goes back again, this time more aggressively, to suck and pull on your lips, and you freely let him, not a single thought behind your eyes apart from the way his teeth pull on your flesh.

‘I- I want a rematch’

Chris pulls away just once for you to voice this timid defiance, however his only thought is concerned with how deliciously red and juicy your lips look. He acknowledges you only by dipping back in and pressing another soft kiss to your peachy pillows, humming a little ‘mhm’ in agreement but also not really listening to you as his face twists and his nose brushes against yours.

The wet sound of his lips sucking your plumper ones into his mouth makes your panties dampen.

‘What if I wanna make it up to you in some other way?’ He daringly mumbles against your lips which wets the skin even around them with his saliva. The arch of your back is subtle, but it’s still fully there as you weight up the pros and cons of this situation. But really… are there any cons aside from the afterthought of knowing that you let your sworn enemy touch your body in the most intimate of places?

At the present, it seems like such a small price to pay within the delusion of your lust. And Chris’ hands already feel just so magical when their big impressions carve their way down your waistline, sliding over the bumps of your hips.

Fuck they’re huge in comparison to yours. And that thought alone makes you wet, your folds becoming even slicker at the motion of Chris using his hands to force you up against the hard side of his car.

The metal and glass behind your back makes you shiver and the machinery is freezing cold in the already frosted mountainous air of Carolina point.

This cold suddenly brings you clarity, and for a second you have to fully stop and pull away from his intoxicating tongue, just so you can voice a stupid ‘wait- what are we doing…?’.

Your mind goes reeling and your eyes look like saucers when remembering just who you are kissing… and who is pushing you up against his car.

Your chest heaves and your voice sounds fully strangled, the vision of making out with Chris plaguing your mind and turning it rotten.

But Chris only gazes at you, understanding how weird this must feel, because it feels weird to him too. However he can’t help it, one taste was enough for him and now he’s hooked.

He pushes back into you with haste, his thick hips greedily pinning you to the side of his car as he groans an ‘ugh- fuck it, who even cares anymore?’.

It’s almost like he’s jointly voicing this to his own self control, because he then allows himself to messily paw at the side of his vehicle, frantically looking for the door handle to his back seat whilst fully enthralling himself within your kissing lips.

Your tongues twist, and it’s messy, but you love it just the same. Especially after feeling Chris beneath his baggy black jeans, thick and throbbing for you when he moans in approval at the touch of the door handle.

He curls his fingers into it and yanks it open, the suctioning sound of the door making your heart gallop tenfold because of the connotations that come with Chris forcefully pushing you into the backseat of his car.

Are you two really about to do this? What even happened to get you to this stage?

It all seems like such a blur now, the spontaneity of your actions helping to numb the idea of regret. An idea that you know you’re defintely going to feel in the morning.

But not tonight… tonight is about wandering hands and careless affections, between two people who just so happen to supposedly ‘hate’ each other.

He grabs you with a growled laugh of ‘c’mere’, his large palms splaying underneath your thighs as he hoists you into his arms and walks you around the sharp edges of his red door.

Practically throwing you inside, he’s eager to clamber in himself and restart his torturous decent of your luscious neck skin.

So he does, and he slams the door behind him whilst doing so.

Meanwhile, you spread your legs to let him into you, your ass sinking into the plush white leather of his seats as your back comes to rest against the opposite side door.

Now you’re seeing a completely different Chris, that hovers over you and gives you that toe curling gaze he’s perfected over the many months of first competing with you.

The gaze is reminiscent of the first time you two ever raced together, with a hint of attraction and chemistry there, until you started to hate each other as soon as it became more of a competition to see which one was better.

This Chris is so astronomically different in comparison to the one you had grown to absolutely despise, the two of you stuck in this viciously competitive cycle of building up tension after tension until all of it just burst and ended up with Chris’ head right in between your legs.

He yanks off every single article of clothing wrapped around your lower half, trying to resist the urge of snapping open your underwear and making a mess of the delicate red lace as soon as he sees it.

Fuck. You’re even wearing his racing colours.

‘These for me?’ He teases and raises his eyebrows whilst simultaneously slipping off your panties and lifting them to the side of his face.

Without knowing any better, you smirk and nod, guessing that it’ll drive his narcissism absolutely crazy. And you’re right. Because soon after, he scrunches up the soaked panties into his fist and throws them up to the front of the car. They messily then land on the dashboard.

He smirks down at your shining red cunt, wet stickiness practically drooling from out of your hole already.

‘Imma drive with your panties on the dashboard all the way home so that anyone who seems them will know how good I fucked this pretty little pussy…’

You swallow a pant at his crude language, not being able to help the shake of your hands or the blink of your eyes. ‘Do it… for me?’ You coquettishly breathe back, and it only drives Chris up the wall further. With this being said, he obeys and darts his head down to your centre, wasting no time in peppering small suctioned kisses against your inner thighs.

They quiver as soon as his face gets closer to your centre, and you know he’s just about to put his tongue on you because he smirks, gearing up to say another filthy thing.

‘M’sorry I cheated baby’ he pouts boyishly, before giving your clit an open-mouthed kiss.

You whine and buck your hips up into the firm hold of his rough hands, that have slid around to force you down and keep you from squirming away at his stimulation. ‘Forgive me?’ He speaks with his head tilted. Then a thick globule of spit comes tumbling from his mouth to plink onto your throbbing heat.

It greedily rolls down your pinkness and Chris goes in for another heavy kiss, this time closing his eyes to eat you like his life depended on it, licking around you clit and even dipping himself into your hole. He’s not sure when he’ll next get the chance to fuck you like this and so savours it with as much fever as he possibly can.

All the while, you lie with your back propped up against the opposite door, looking down at him with your calves smoothly slung around his shoulders.

You hypnotically watch how your thighs twitch at every opportunity Chris gives you, his tongue rolling over several pleasure points in an effort to get you to come.

‘Mmm-okay’ you moan before bitting your hand and mumbling through your teeth ‘I forgive you, please- please just let me cum’.

He had been savouring this for a while now, leisurely dipping his tongue in and out of you whenever he felt like it as he pressed his other palm over the thick bulge in his jeans, trying to suppress its ache by kneading it downwards and squeezing himself.

He struggles not to openly thrust his hips into his hand at the tiny whimpers you make, because you sound so pretty trying to reach your high.

He sighs before giving you one last rolling kiss. ‘I guess that’s only fair, alright I’ll let you cum sweetheart’.

Straight after he says this you let out a heaved ‘Jesus Christ!’, your cry brandishing tears within your eyes as one of Chris’ long fingers unexpectedly slide right up into your throbbing cunt, your precome already acting as natural lubricant to coat his skin.

It’s almost mouthwatering how good it feels, for both you and Chris. His finger seems to fit in there perfectly, and so he adds another, stroking your walls and curling them upwards delicately.

‘Can you fit three in there baby…? Please let me put three in… you look pretty when you’re drooling for my fingers’ he whines, his voice high pitched and begging for you to allow him the pleasure of three.

‘Fuck- yes, please, please put three in. I can handle it!’ You moan in desperation, not really knowing what to do with your hands, so one feeds itself into his luscious brown locks whilst the other one curls around the white leather headrest of the back seat you’re sitting on.

You white knuckle it when Chris effortlessly coos ‘there’s a good girl… gonna make you feel so good’ whilst inserting his third finger, its length making your back arch and the windows of the car fog up.

‘Look at you… fucking up the back of my car, needy girl’ Chris muses whilst observing the way some of your wetness leaks out and blobs onto his nice white leather seats, the condensation of your horny breath staining the windows and your hand practically clawing at his headrest whilst his fingers work inside of you.

‘S-shut up. You wreck the outside of my car, I’ll wreck the inside of yours’ you bite back sassily, your whole entire chin tipping back in ecstasy as you feel your orgasm clawing beneath the lining of your gut.

Chris’ fingers speed their pace at this, and the squelch of them working past your screaming orgasm nearly makes him cum all over himself within his pants, especially after hearing your continuous moan at the motion his harsh fingertip thrusts.

After you calm, you careen forward to grip onto the wrist of his hand, tapping out immediately in overstimulation. He pulls his sopping wet fingers from out of your core and then lollipops them into his mouth.

As you sit there and regain your breath, your cheeks redden impossibly further at Chris’ quipped demand of ‘take off your top’, still with his fingers bitten in between his teeth.

You do as he says, watching him pull his hand back out of his mouth with hooded eyes as you peel off the tight fabric.

He doesn’t even have to tell you to take off your bra either, you just do it, giving him the gorgeous sight of your tits resting on your chest.

‘This good enough for you?’ you tease, letting one of the straps from your bra slide down your pointer finger before tossing it next to your already discarded panties that sit upon his dashboard.

Chris blinks at your devilish action in shock, before putting a smirk back onto his handsome face.

‘Oh I am going to fuckin’ destroy you’ he cackles playfully, before curling his hands around the backs of your thighs and pulling your body to lay down horizontally.

You gulp as you tilt your chin upwards, watching the way he pulls his jeans and his underwear down with his gleaming cock springing up to hit his lower abdomen.

Licking your lips, you have to squeeze your thighs together at the sight of it as he then turns towards you and advances forward, with his lower half bare and his racer jacket and black t-shirt still in tact over his top half.

His pulsing cock stands on end, and he bites his bottom lip whilst clambering over your thighs to get to your stomach, much to your utter confusion.

That is, until you realise why he asked you to take your top off in the first place.

Planting his knees on either side of your underarms, they sink into his plush leather as he towers over you, grinning at your heaving chest. From his height advantage, he gathers a jewel of spit into his mouth and tips his head forward, allowing it to ooze outwards and splash against the valley in between your tits.

You swallow at this, watching as he then shuffles downwards and leans the head of his dripping prick onto the puddle of saliva he had created.

‘Push your pretty tits together sugar’.

Now when using this nickname, it sounds sickly sweet instead of full of malice, coated with a thin layer of cherry sauce as his cheeky grin perfectly mirrors the cheeky action of him using his hands to help you squeeze the sides of your tits together.

Your skin feels sticky with Chris’ spit and Chris lets out the ungodliest of groans when pushing his tip forcefully into the crack between them.

You hiss in pain at the feeling of Chris’ cock wedged against your tits, but bite your lip and ignore it in favour of watching the way he fucks his hips into them.

His pink head disappears in and out of the top opening and he has to fall forward and grip his hands onto the door to keep himself steady. He ruts himself faster with the added security and his car begins to shake at the aggressive motion.

He had done the majority of building up his orgasm whilst eating you out, so now all he had to do was finish it off, and what better way to do that than with his cock buried in between your tits?

‘Fuck Chris-’ you mumble with your mouth dropped open and your eyes glued to the way small drips of precum already leak out from his cock onto the flushed skin of your chest.

‘Ugh- I’m… I’m cumming- fuck- open your m-mouth’ Chris moans into the air, squeezing his eyes shut as the elastic band of his orgasm snaps and forces cum to come squirting out of his head, some of the sticky white liquid coating your chest, but the other half of it finding its way into your open mouth.

You wait for Chris to milk himself dry, your tongue still out expectantly, until he sees that you’re wanting permission to swallow it.

To help you, he reaches out one of his tremouring fingertips to gather up the cum smeared over your chin, then he slides them into your mouth.

You suck on them, swallowing all of what he has to give you with a tired but appreciative hum as he looks down at you with glassy eyes of complacency.

What the fuck just happened between you two… and why did he feel like he wanted to do it all over again?

᧔♡᧓

‘You still really not gonna pay for any of the scrapes you gave my car huh?’ You speak up into the awkward silence as Chris shuts the back door of his Nissan, leaving the smell of sex to permeate within his car.

He lights one of his cigarettes and snorts, trudging his way around to the front of his car before yanking the door open, your bra and panties still resting on the dashboard and yourself still very much naked underneath your regular clothes.

‘In your dreams sugar’.

There’s another silence as the two of you just look at each other, not knowing if whether or not you’ll ever see each other in that kind of vulnerable light again.

One thing is for sure though, no one can ever know about what happened here tonight.

Chris looks almost hesitant to go with his face softening and smoke tumbling from out of the red cherry of his cigarette. He blinks to snap himself out of it though.

‘Cya at the next race baby…’

He tips his head and then slides down into his car as you look at him wantonly.

‘Yeah… cya’.

᧔♡᧓

Author’s notes p.2: hot. RIVAL RACERS AND ENEMIES TO LOVERS TROPE OH YEAHHH. This is defintely the longest fucking thing I’ve done so I apologise for that lol. And I’m also equally sorry for the ridiculously long wait omg, I’ve been hyping this up too much so I’m sorry if it’s not that great bc most of it was written on major sleep deprivation haha. Also guysss exciting stuff is happening as I’m almost at 2,000 followers and me and @luv4kozume have got something really fun planned for us both hitting 2k!!

Taglist: @luverboychris @lovingmattysposts @luvmila444 @luv4kozume @stursweet @strniohoeee @strawberrysturniolo @thesturniolos @sturniolosreads @vecnasnose0 @meanttomeet @ellie-luvsfics @matthemunch @mattsleftnipple03 @robins-scoop @asturniolos @imwetforyourmom @nicksmainbitch @sturnioloenthusiast @breeloveschris @kvtie444 @rootbeerworshiper @chr1sgirl4life @hrt-attack @gigisworldsstuff @stargirlsturniololover @imlidewwallyhittingdagwiddy @sturniololoverr @jahlisa22 @bernardsgf @luvasr @meg-sturniolo @blahbel668 @liz-stxrn @sturnreblog @ratatioulle @isabellehoran @1800chokedathoe @sturnsmadl @sturniolossmut @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattswifey00 @sturniolowhore @skadltmf @sturniolosstar @luvsturns @mattestrella @hearts4chriss @orangeypepsi

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader

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ellielatinagf · 1 month

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Lacrosse Ellie!!!

Summary: your best friend Dina invited you to a lacrosse game her boyfriend was in. Then you see someone who catches your eye.

Warnings: some mild profanity, I think that’s all

Part 2 | Part 3 | part 4

“Cmon Loser!!” Your best friend, Dina, giggled.

“I told Avery we’d both be there!” Dina said “And besides what else do you have to do other than watch tik tok?” You couldn’t bails on Avery. She’s been your friend since middle school. You loved Dina to death of course, but sometimes Dina was such a good friend she pushed you out of your comfort zone. She meant well.

“Fine…I don’t even know anything about rugby or whatever it is..” you hugged as Dina was picking out a cute outfit from your closet

“Lacrosse” Dina corrected “ and don’t worry about it, just cheer when everyone else does. That’s what I do” she joked causing you two to giggle. After getting ready you and dina walked to your high school football field. There was a huge amount of people which surprised you at how many people actually like the sport.

You and Dina sat in the bottom of the bleachers towards the middle for the best view of the game. Finally, someone on the PA system started to announce the players as players started to flood into the field.

“Ladies and gentleman please welcome the Santa Monica Wolves and the home of the Jackson Mustangs!” The man boomed. Everyone was cheering including yourself.

“GO AVERY!” Dina yelled and you laughed. Avery looked over and waved at you both in the stands and smiled. The whistle blew and in a flash the players started running and all you saw was the flash of the ball

“Wait Dina, what side is ours?!” You yelled over the loud roar of the crowd. Dina laughed at your confusion of the game.

“The right side. Our team is wearing blue and yellow” Dina said. You made an interesting face at the fact. Blue and yellow? Interesting choice. You watched the game, now starting to understand the rules. It seemed simple enough but you knew it must be more difficult to physically do. You watched players throw the ball with precision and speed. You started to think about how you would do on that field. Horrible? Probably. But worth a shot. Then your thoughts got interrupted.

*crash*

You looked in front of you last the railing used the seal off the crowd and field. In front of you was a player from your school under a player in grey uniform. The girl in grey got up and spat on the girl in your school uniform

“Watch it..pal” the girl shouted. She sneered and walked away

Damn she’s buff you thought. You saw her grip her lacrosse stick and wipe the small trail of blood off her nose.

You looked back at the other girl. The first thing you noticed was her auburn hair. It was short, maybe shoulder length. It was in a half up half down style. Then your eyes averted to her build. She wasn’t super buff like the other girl, But she had some muscle. You saw her get up. She was taller than you. You look at her face. Finally. Her face was sprinkled with freckles. Her pink lips were the shade of a cherry blossom. Those eyes. God…those green eyes. They looked like two shining emeralds. Her expression was angry, no, more than angry. She wiped her face. The sweat that made her baby hairs stick to her face were scattered around her hairline.

“Ellie?! Are you okay?!” Dina yelled at the girl. Ellie. A name for that gorgeous face. On second thought, the face was a bit damaged. Blood was gushing out her nose and trickling down her mouth. You looked at the back of her jersey. Williams. Ellie Williams. Hm..what about Y/n Williams? You shook your head at the thought.

“M’good” the green eyed beauty shouted back. She looked back at you. The eye contact was enough to make you faint. You felt your cheeks get warm. She gave you a smirk. A goofy, bloody smirk.

She ran back to the field. Unfortunately she got substituted for another player, but that didn’t stop your eyes from being glued to her.

“Dina…how do you know that girl?” You asked

“Els? She’s in my art class” Dina replied. Art? You love Dina but art isn’t really her style. She attempted to draw you in 8th grade and you wounded up looking like if peppa pig had a long lost sister who was secretly a crocodile.

“You take art?” You asked in a teasing manner

“Shut up I need the credits” Dina said playfully shoving your arm. “That’s where Ellie comes in”

“Okay Picasso” you chuckled and Dina gives you a sly smirk. The rest of the game your eyes are fixated on Ellie. Thinking about her. Her voice. How her lips feel. Her touch. You caught yourself and shook yourself back to reality. Just in time too as you saw the people in the bleachers start to walk off.

You and Dina wait outside the locker room for Avery. You and Dina talking about how to correctly spell gray. The door opens and it wasn’t Avery who walked out.

It was Ellie

“Hey Els!” Dina smiles and inspects Ellie’s nose and bruise

“Hey Din” Ellie replied. Her voice. God it was so raspy. The way she talks so non-chalantly almost made you obsess with her even more. You smiled at Ellie.

“Hey You” she smiled. Your heart did a backflip and summersault at the same time.

“Hey…bud” You cringed. Even Dina have you a sideways look.

Wtf? What did I just say…? WHY?!

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. Um hi. I’m so dumb I’m sorry” you said starting to laugh out of nervousness.

Ellie chuckled and looked into your eyes again. Your breath hitched as she gave you a warm smile. You felt so…enamored by her you forgot everything. You forgot where you were. Hell you even forgot Dina was there. Who in fact was enjoying the show of watching you stutter over your words.

“You enjoy the show?” Ellie asked you softly.

“Me? Oh yeah it was cool. I mean until you got hurt but it was a good game” you said.

Nice one. Look at me, the rizz master.

“We lost princess” ellie chuckled

“I-I mean…we put up a good fight!” You stuttered. Ellie laughed and Dina was trying to hide her smile.

“I’ll catch you later babe” Ellie said walking away smiling and laughing. BABE?! That did it for you. Your face was so red you were gonna faint and have a stroke.

“Ooooh…Ellie Williams huh?” Dina asked smirking after Ellie left.

“Huh? What do you mean?” You asked knowing exactly what the brunette was talking about

“As your best friend, I approve of Williams” she giggled. Your face somehow got even more red.

“Dina…do you have Ellie’s insta…by chance?” You asked. For some reason, you needed that gorgeous woman

Okay it’s off to a rough start but bear with me😭 I might make a part two where reader makes an excuse to study with Ellie and learns more about her. Thanks for reading! Free Palestine 🇵🇸

Credits for artwork: Izabesos TwT on Pinterest

#ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #tlou2 #dina tlou #ellie williams #tlou fanfiction #tlou #ellie x y/n

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koiiiiijiii · 5 days

Text

listening to ‘00 spanish songs with Hyuk and Wooin in his car>>>

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

as the warmth of spring enveloped Seoul on this vibrant evening, the city thrummed with the energy of youth and possibility. everywhere you looked, people hurried home or dashed off on romantic escapades, while others embarked on business ventures or grappled with personal dilemmas. yet amidst the hustle and bustle, Seoul's streets remained alive with the promise of endless opportunities, illuminated by the neon glow of billboards and signs that seemed to dance in the twilight.

as dusk descended, casting a cloak of mystery over the city, a sleek black Ford Mustang sliced through the air, its sleek frame cutting through the night with the grace of creature that makes it way through the thicket of the stone jungle of the city. the scent of blooming cherry blossoms mingled with the faint aroma of street food, carried on a gentle breeze that whispered of new period in life, fresh spring, beginning of something new. inside the car, the exhilarating rush of speed was matched only by the pulse-pounding beats of music, echoing through the night with a fervor that stirred the soul.

in the back seats, you and Hyuk reveled in the euphoria of the moment, your voices rising in joyful abandon as you sang along to old Spanish tracks. the cool embrace of the air conditioner and the thrill of the open road washed over you, filling you with a sense of invincibility and youth. meanwhile, Wooin expertly piloted the car, a smile playing at his lips as he watched the spectacle unfolding behind him. “damn, this two weirdos.. can’t understand a word” he chuckled he turned his gaze to Joker who fall asleep in passenger seat despite loud bass playing.

in this moment, surrounded by friends and intoxicated by the heady cocktail of spring air, freedom, and adrenaline, you felt alive in a way that only youth can understand. and as the night stretched out before you, filled with endless possibilities, you couldn't help but feel that anything was possible.

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

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f4iryjeons · 2 years

Text

At your own risk 🎃 (M)

BAD BOY! JEONGGUK X READER

Established Au (I'm so weak for these man...)

WARNINGZ: this is literally PWP, rough sex, unprotected, ass eating and oral sex (f receives), semi public, degrading, spitting, lowkey town bully jk, jk carries a switchblade, jk is mean, he's really a bitch in this one, jk says he’d pull out but he lied, Jk is REALLY ROUGH .I think that's it idk.

an: I just wanted to practice writing smut... that’s it. THIS IS VERY UNEDITED I've edited it.

word count: 3.7k

The echoes of the past lingered in the present, like ghosts watching the living from the sidelines. The air was cold and harsh against your skin. You wished they’d close the windows already. Your heart was as heavy as the leaves plummeting from trees, and your mind appeared to be cloudy, much like the grey cloud filled sky. You were bored out of your mind. The winds were harsh, and the roads were empty, like a ghost town. Nobody could be seen for miles. Fall had come quicker than you’d thought, and while most were dressing up and going to parties, you were not. Instead, you were sitting in the empty diner your grandparents owned. “You’re still waiting for Jeongguk?” Your sister asked. She didn’t bat an eye when you didn’t reply, as she knew the answer. Instead, she just smiles and continues to whistle along to Monster Mash. “I’m closing up, so… go home reasonably. Don’t wait here all day. Make sure you lock everything back.” She says as she makes her way to the back. You’re still looking out the window, waiting for him. Jeongguk wasn’t the on time type, you knew better than to expect him to be on time. It was currently four pm. He’s always late to everything the two of you plan and you’ve learned to stop letting it bother you.

You’re straightening out your little red riding hood costume after putting it on. Your are kind of glad Jeongguk is very late. If he arrived earlier, you wouldn't have time to put on your costume. With your sister gone, you don’t have to worry about the judging statements from her, and ultimately your mother. You tighten the corset around your waist and attempt to pull the short dress down. It only stops at your upper thigh. No worries, your black lacy thigh socks cover a bit more skin than the dress itself. And finally, knee-high boots, laced up neatly, adorn your feet. You couldn’t wait to see Jeongguk’s reaction. He’s always said he wanted to see you in skimpy clothing, always wants to show you off.

It’s six pm when you hear the howling laughter of your boyfriend’s friends along with the screeching of his tires. Jeongguk is already out of the car by the time you come out of the diner, locking the diner up. His eyes are widening and there’s an excited grin on his face. One similar to that of a child in a candy store. Or, a kid opening a gift on Christmas Day. “I am sorry I’m late…” he trails off, looking you up and down shamelessly. He takes the cherry lollipop out of his lips as he leans down to kiss you. “Little red..” He mumbles against your lips. The two of you are pulled out of your trance when you hear his friend’s whistle. “Goddamn Yn!” One of them exclaims from the back seat of Jeongguk’s 1968 mustang. Jeongguk rolls his eyes, placing the lollipop back in his mouth, further staining his plush bottom lip a deep cherry red. He runs his hands through his gelled hair, “Shall we?” He invites, leading you to the passenger’s side, and opening the door for you. You cannot get over how hot he looks. He’s dressed like a greaser, and although it’s how he dresses any other day. Looking good in nothing but jeans, a black leather jacket, and a white t-shirt, it’s so on brand for him. The car only adds to his costume’s aesthetic, and it’s taking your mind for quite the ride. As you’re driving down the now filled streets, his friends are getting rowdier and rowdier. Oh, how you hated Jimin and Taehyung sometimes. “Is that Nick Watson?” Taehyung exclaims, poking his finger out of the window. You look at Jeongguk with an annoyed look. He just returns an apologetic grin. You knew what was coming next. Jeongguk isn’t exactly a model citizen, nor student. With your senior year of High School almost up, he’d made quite a name for himself. He was the typical bad boy, carried switchblades, wore leather jackets, ditched, and most importantly, loved to pick on underclassmen. He drives closer to the boy, slowing down to match his pace. “Hi Nicky..” Taehyung waves at the boy with a teasing smile. The boy looks at the car and groans. “What do you guys want?” He asks, visibly upset at the sight of your boyfriend and his friends. “Where the fuck is my English essay?” Taehyung asks, tone becoming dark at an alarmingly fast rate. The boy sighs, “I didn’t do it.” He shrugs, a shiver in his voice showing he’s scared. The boys don’t miss it. Jimin lets out an obnoxious giggle. “You sound like you’re about to piss yourself Nick!” The boys laugh out. Jeongguk doesn’t speak, eyes never leaving Nick’s form as he continues to walk. You hate when Jeongguk does this; he knows that too. Hence his silence. What’s even worse is you feel bad. You used to babysit his younger brother. You lean up so he could see you through Jeongguk’s window. “Hey Nick.” You wave at him, a very futile attempt to lighten the situation. The boy looks at you with a dazed look, mouth falling agape. “H-hi Yn, you look pretty.” He stumbles over his words a bit, eyes drinking in the few bits of skin visible from the passenger’s seat. Jeongguk doesn’t like flustered the boy becomes looking at you. He slams his foot on the brake; you yelp at the suddenness of his action. He pulls the switchblade from his pocket and points it out of the window. It’s pointed toward the young boy, and the look in Jeongguk’s eye cut deeper more than the blade could. The volatile illusion created by the darkness and the street lamps make him absolutely insane. The boy’s feet become stuck in their position as his eyes widen. “Listen to me… the Essay better be done by Monday, and I’m not fucking joking, do you understand?” The car goes quiet, and all is heard is crickets and echoes of laughter from the suddenly vacant streets.

Trembling, he nods. Jeongguk rolls the window up before driving off, leaving the boy behind in the smoke emitting from his exhaust.

Taehyung and Jimin bellow with laughter. Sounding similar to hyenas. You look at Jeongguk with disbelief and he ignores your look. He doesn’t enjoy disappointing you; he doesn’t even want to think about it. You huff in annoyance, turning your head to look at the bustling sidewalks.

When the two of you arrive at an abandoned house that was alive with loud, drunk young adults. You’re standing in front of the gates that are falling apart, and Jeongguk is right behind you, sensing your irritation. “An abandoned house?” you question, raising your eyebrow. Jeongguk gazes at you with an indecipherable expression before he pulls you aside. “You guys go ahead. We’ll meet you inside.” Jeongguk directs his statement to Taehyung and Jimin who are lingering on the steps of the house, but his eyes are looking into yours. You can tell be his locked jaw and the thick swallows he takes, he’s annoyed. “The fuck is your problem?” He inquiries, whipping out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. As he’s lighting it, you’re sighing, stepping back. “I really wish you didn’t do that.” You suspire. “Yeah, well, you wish I didn’t do a lot of things. Take it or fucking leave it, and drop the attitude.” It took a person with an abundance of patience to deal with Jeongguk. The boy was cruel, and it took someone who could look past these qualities to love him. You cannot do that right now. He is smoking a death stick and cursing at you. You cannot sit and have a conversation with him. You decide to walk away to let him cool down. He really doesn’t like that. He grips your wrist tightly. “Don’t fucking walk away from me while I’m talking to you.” He spits, letting you go.

He trusts you wouldn’t walk away. You were obedient, rarely defiant. And just as he thought, you stayed in place, crossing your arms as you look at the grassy ground beneath you. He sighs, “You know I hate that.” He states, putting the cigarette out, and stepping closer to you. The air that hits your skin is far from comforting, and the lump in your throat grows bigger. You knew Jeongguk would never hurt you physically, but he was still too rough with you. He doesn’t see an issue with how he speaks to you when he gets upset, his only excuse being ‘you deserved it.’ or ‘ you pissed me off.’. It’s taking a toll on you. He always expected you to listen to him, consider his concerns and fix things he didn’t like. But how you felt never mattered. If that’s how things are going to be, you should just end things.

“Don’t you dare.” He says. It’s sharp, but he doesn’t mean for it to sound that way. “Do not cry Yn.” He mumbles, trying to keep his tone in check. Your lip quivers and you turn away from him so he couldn’t see the tear that slips down your cheek. He sighs, wrapping his arms around your waist. The hug is awkward as he’s holding you from the side, and you refuse to look at him. He doesn’t care though, he just rests his chin on your head. “Really, you’re a fucking idiot.” He murmurs. He doesn’t mean it. It’s really like a term of endearment, and he trusts you to know that. “Come on.” He tilts his head toward the yard of the large estate. You mindlessly follow him, his hand holding yours. The trees are tall, and the house becomes a distant memory as he leads you past it.

The trees. Woodsy, it only adds to your melancholy, as you know you think of how unfair he is toward you. He stops walking, but he only pulls you closer to him. You take in your surroundings; he led you deep into the woods that sat dauntingly behind the dated house. “Why are we out here?” You sniffle, wiping the few tears from your face. “‘Cause no one will hear us here.” You pause, “What do you mean?” He pauses briefly before grabbing you by the chin and stopping you from moving. He still doesn’t answer you as his hands fall to your back. He leans against a tree and his head falls into your neck. “Here you are… looking so sexy, so good, and you’re crying.” He states, shaking his head disapprovingly. He pecks your neck a few times, taking in your scent.

You’re frigid in his hold, allowing him to do whatever. His hands creep down to your ass, the dress eagerly riding up underneath his palms. You whisper his name with a warning, and Jeongguk ignores it. He pulls your body impossibly closer to his body and allows you to feel the erection in his jeans. “Kookie, no! What if someone catches us?” He cringes at the nickname but ignores it. “No one will catch us. Stop worrying and trust me.” He whispers against your neck, warm breath tickling your skin and leaving goosebumps in its radius. You can’t contain the moan building in your throat when his hands slip into your underwear. He’s just toying with the fabric, leaving ghost like touches on your inner thighs. “We can’t.” You try placing your hands on his wrists, but you can’t bring yourself to stop him. “Why?” He gently runs his finger of your moistening slit. You whimper, head falling into his neck. “We don’t have condoms.” You state. It’s impossible to look at him, not like this. You’ll crumble. He continues playing with the increasing amount of slick dripping on his fingers and spreading over your inner thighs. “I could pull out..” He offers. Alarms in your head are going off, and you’re about to lecture him about the irresponsible suggestion he made when he removes his hands from your underwear. You whine at the removal, and whine much louder when he brings his wet fingertips to his lips, sucking on them with tumultuous, lewd groans. “So fuckin’ good.” He mumbles, fingers still in his mouth.

You’re embarrassed at the amount of wetness that gushes out of you at the action. He knows you’re weak for him, and he knows he’ll get what he wants. “Get against the tree and bend over.” He whispers against the shell of your ear. He lets you go, and he stands behind you. You scramble to follow his instructions; you place your hands on the tree, bending over. He hums to himself. You can’t see him as you’re face to face with the bark of the tree. He moves closely behind you, his clothed erection touching your ass. He wastes no time pulling your panties down to your knees. “Fuck..” He whispers. You can hear the impact of something hitting the floor, and soon you can feel his hands gripping your ass cheeks and spreading them. His warm breath hits the plump cheeks. You gasp at the foreign feel of his tongue flat on your pussy. He drinks your growing wetness in contently, sighing every new and then. You cry out brazenly. His tongue dips inside of you teasingly before he pulls away. You whine, begging for him not to stop. There are a few silent beats before his grip on your ass cheeks tighten and you wince at his fingernails digging into your skin. You yelp loudly when you feel his tongue prodding at your tight, untouched hole. It’s new. He’d never done that before. He drags his tongue down to your core, slurping the juices that have gathered for him. With another pornographic drag of his tongue, he’s back, poking at your asshole. You rest your forehead on the tree, moans spilling out of you in surprise and pleasure.

His tongue is back on your pussy. He pushes his head further between your ass. He’s able to reach your clit. Your pussy was dripping. Juices were falling into his mouth as he poked at it. It’s so dirty, so perverted, the thought of your slick dripping into his mouth and him thirstily waiting. The way he drinks from your core like your juices were a nectar from the juiciest fruit in a magical forest. It shouldn’t make you so kindled. “You gonna cum?” He asks against your slit, his mouth not allowing you to reply as he keeps pulling moans from you. He slurps, every so often bringing the wetness up to your asshole. He pulls back for a moment, leaving you awaiting what he’ll do to you next. You stand by, cold air hitting your hot skin. It’s not enough to cool you down. You shiver, but it’s not because of the chill of the night. You sigh loudly when you feel his fingers; he rubs your clit. He is dragging you closer and closer to orgasm. You can’t shake the feeling of possibly being caught. The thought is licentious as you grow hotter. You can still hear the loud music screaming from the house through the woods. It allows you to become comfortable with your volume, not a care in the world as you cry out at every little thing he does. His fingers dip into your pussy, just for a moment. It’s so sweet, so fucking good, so euphoric for a small minute. He takes it from you. He was a cruel profligate. You want to turn around, yell at him, and you almost do until you feel his finger dancing around your virgin hole. You mumble his name, shakily, nervous. This was the first time you had done this. He was diving into new, deep waters. You wouldn’t stop him. It would be a lie to say you weren’t intrigued. “You like this, don’t you?” He asks, from behind you, he’s still on his knees. You can only nod, embarrassed at your obscene behavior. He lets out a hoarse chuckle, and it causes more juice to trickle down your thighs. “Such a slut… you wanna be fucked in the ass?” He hums, his finger smoothly pushing inside. It’s alien, it doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t feel uncomfortable, it just feels weird. It feels like you’re being stuffed, like there’s something occupying your hole, and it’s weirdly making your pussy clench. You want more. You don’t have to ask though. He’s pushing in another finger so you’re filled by two. The stretch becomes uncomfortable, but it’s bearable, and you like it. You can’t stop whining, and you can’t stop clenching around nothing. Your pussy starts spasming when he fingers your ass, his fingers moving at a tolerable pace. “Look how wet you’re getting… you’re fucking disgusting.” He says. You cry out, shamelessly nodding at his words. He leans in, tongue out to collect your nectar straight from the tap. His fingers and his tongue speed up a few moments later. He’s energetically lapping up what you have to give as he continues to finger-fuck your ass at a now merciless pace. You can’t hold yourself up much long, legs and arms giving out as you cum harder than you’ve ever came before. He’s quick to catch you. His fingers are pulled out of your ass, and he’s standing, holding you up by your waist. Your back against his chest as you're trying to catch your breath. “Fuck… you squirted from that?” He teases, kissing your reddened cheek. He wipes the sweat from your forehead with the back of his hand. The sweet moment falls short as he roughly turns you around to face him and pushes you against the tree. Your head will kill you after this, but you can’t bring it yourself to care. He doesn’t break eye contact as he undoes his belt and pulls his pants along with his underwear down. There’s a quiet mewl caught in your throat when you see the red leaking tip of his cock. You swear you could feel your mouth water; you want to devour him. But you know he won’t let you. With his cock so hard, and desperate to be held tightly by your divine walls, he wouldn’t think of doing anything besides fucking you. He lifts one of your legs up, hooking it under his arm. Your leg dangles loosely over his forearm as you watch him stroke himself with his free hand. He leans in to kiss you, his cock sliding under your exposed slit. The kiss is wet and desperate. You cut yourself when your teeth scrape together, feeling swollen and desperate as your tongues tussle. Your grip on his hair is bruising, and he’s pushing you against the tree so hard you’re worried you’ll get splinters when the two of you are done. You arch your body, letting your pussy drape over his cock as he grinds over your slick folds. Your pussy lips cling to his cock, rivulets of excitement swelling as he changes direction, pushing the entire shaft in. You scream in surprise and pain. You whimper at the bittersweet feeling of his cock stretching you. “Baby, it hurts.” You whimper, your head falling limp against the tree. He just grunts, pushing into you until he bottoms out. “Does it hurt, baby?” He asks, feigning concern. You nod, whining at the vigorous stretch. “You wanna act like a fucking brat? You get treated like one.” He hisses, grabbing your jaw pitilessly. He leaves his hand on your face, pressing your head into the tree, you whimper pitifully. You hate how much you love It. He’s fucking like you were an inanimate object, as if you were there for solely his pleasure. You hate how loud you grow at his remorseless pace. You hate how he grips too tight, bruises you with too much force. You hate how in control he is. You hate how you want it to stay that way. He groans loudly when he feels you gushing around him, smirking at you. Your eyes fall into the back of your head as your mouth feels pried open to let the lewd noises travel through the woods. You close your eyes and envelop yourself in the blanket of pleasure, groaning, mindfucked into another dimension. He feels a sudden rush of adrenaline as he approaches his high. Roughly, he grabs your face, forcing you to give him your attention. He shamelessly spits in your mouth, “Jump.” He grunts, bending down and placing your leg underneath his other arm. You cry, doing as he says, although its not as easy as it seemed. Your legs were like jelly and jumping felt like the hardest thing to do. You keep attempting to jump as he grows impatient, condescending chuckle leaving his mouth. “You’re so fucking stupid, you know that?” He lifts you almost effortlessly against the tree. He continues fucking into you for the lone purpose of cumming. You cum, but he ignores it, he continues even with your tightening walls. You’re fucked into oblivion at this point, body spasming with each thrust. His upper body pulses correspondingly with each thrust, and you feel his seed bursting into you. You yelp as he’s falling against the tree, exhausted. “That was pretty intense.” For some reason, you can’t seem to speak. You just swallow and nod. He gently lets you down, you feet touching the floor but giving out from under you. You grip his shoulders for support. “We fucked each other up…” he trails off, chest heaving with each breath. After a short while of looking at each other, saying nothing, the fiery glare is fading.

“You do know I love you, right?” You just nod, your body falling into his as the two of you walk back to his car. He smiles, draping his arm around your neck and bringing you closer. You reach your hand up and check the side of his cheek. Gently, you stroke his face. “I’m exhausted..” you mumble, climbing into the passenger’s seat. He gets into his side, fastening his belt. “I have to take you back home.” You groan, getting comfortable in the leather seats. “Why don’t you just come in with me? You can leave in the morning.”

And he does. He sneaks into your house in the dead of night to hold you tight as the two of you drift off. You’re the first to wake up, but for once in your life, you don ’t do anything about it. That was by far your favorite Halloween.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts #bts jeongkook #bts jungkook #bts smut #jeongguk smut #jeon jeongguk #jeongguk x reader #jeongguk x reader smut #jeongguk x reader fluff #jungkook pwp #bts pwp #bts fluff #jungkook established relationship #jeongguk

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 7 months

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The Princess and The Duke Chapter 1 - Homecoming

This blog is a 18+ space, Minors, do not engage. If you are under the age of 18 you are not welcome here. Please heed these warnings and the warnings put in place on each individual fic and chapter. Your reading and consumption of my work is your responsibility but I will endeavour to mitigate any discomfort for you, the reader, as possible. Once again, this is a 18+ space and minors should not interact.

Specific Warnings: Daddy Kink, Sex Work, Cam work, Infidelity, Step-Cest, Dave York(he always needs his own warning), Men being sexist dicks on the internet, masturbation (m and f), mutual masturbation(unknowing). Let me know if I missed anything!

Graphic made by me, does not convey shape, race, or hair colour of reader, the panties just looked so good, no use of Y/N.

Thank you to @pastelnap and @wannab-urs for beta-ing for me, ilu so much.

Please consider checking out my ko-fi or patreon if you want to support me.

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She’s late.

You’re hardly surprised, your mom has never been what anyone could ever describe as punctual, but you are annoyed. Is this punishment for quitting your lucrative position at the law firm? For not telling her, only so she could find out on the rumour mill? No, your mom is petty, but this would be low even for her. She’s probably just drunk and forgot. Even if it is only two in the afternoon.

You sigh as you open the Uber app on your phone, the estimated wait is another twenty minutes. You sigh as you book one anyway, looking around for somewhere to sit. You look up to see a vaguely familiar man exit a flashy looking Mustang, the dark textured racing stripes on cherry red catching your attention as he races into the arrivals short-stay bay.

He’s dressed in dark grey slacks and a pale dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looks like an investment banker, or some other scummy Wall Street type. The handsome man scans the crowd with purpose. His broad, tense, shoulders flex as he moves, his brow is deeply furrowed as he turns to you. His eyes are impossibly dark, deep amber bleeding into black. You blink rapidly as you hear your name roll from his plush lips and you cock your head to the side with a confused grimace on your face.

“Do I know you?”

The near-stranger’s face contorts as he hurries over to you.

“I’m Dave, your mom’s husband? Weren’t you at the wedding?”

“Oh shit. Yeah hi, sorry I’m really jetlagged and some kid was kicking my seat the whole flight.” You scramble, horrified that you clearly forgot what your new stepdad was called, let alone what he looks like. It feels weird, using such a term at your age, surely the idea of stepparents was well beyond you, but here you are.

“It’s no problem, let me take your bags.”

He doesn’t wait for you to answer, grabbing your two enormous suitcases before you can move, leaving you with your carryon and rucksack. You follow Dave, intrigued by the strangely friendly nature of your mother’s current husband.

“I could have got those.”

You say as you round the vehicle, dumping your bags in the oddly spacious trunk. Dave looks at you with a grimace as he runs his hand through his short hair. You don’t know why but he’s tense. You try not to let it get to you as you brush past him to reach the passenger side door. You slide in without a word as you watch Dave manoeuvre into his seat.

“It’s nothing, least I could do seeing as I’m late.”

You try and ignore the way your eyes rove over his body, he’s way too hot for your mom, and fuck, he can’t be a day over forty, ten years older than you at best. The engine roars to life and you hear the distortion from the exhaust, telling you the car has been modded.

“What exhaust did you get added in?”

Dave doesn’t take his eyes off the road but you note the twitch of his plush lips as he smiles.

“You know cars?”

“Maybe,” You shrug as you watch the freeway peel around you at the speed Dave is driving, “Just know that drone,” You gesture over your shoulder with a smile, “Happens when you take too many silencers out. You compensating for something Dave?”

He exhales through his nose in a short huffing noise, something like a laugh; and your chest flutters at the look he gives you through the rear-view mirror. His eyes crinkle a little at the corners and his dark eyes dance with light as his lips twitch upwards into a smile that makes his cheeks dimple.

“Your mom warned me about that smart mouth of yours, just didn’t expect such a sharp tongue.”

You don’t know why but the light scolding from your stepfather makes your pussy clench. You break eye contact and opt to stare out of the window for the rest of the drive. You put it down to jet lag, or sleep deprivation, but every time you catch a whiff of his cologne mixed with his fresh perspiration it sends your mind into overdrive.

You catch glimpses of him, his thick forearms as he changes gears, as he pulls in and out of traffic and you cannot believe that this man is married to your mother of all people. You pull out your phone and start looking at your schedule for the week, you’re going to be giving your viewers a show tonight, even if you didn’t have a livestream booked in, you think you can make an exception tonight.

~*~

Lost in thought, you don’t notice the way Dave is also sneaking looks at you, taking you in. And all the while he’s trying to expel the thoughts of you from his mind. But one thing he can’t ignore, that already has him transfixed, is the way you’re clearly the polar opposite of your mother. You’re smart, worldly, and interested in something more than yoga, mani-pedis, or the bottom of a wine bottle.

He keeps telling himself that he’s stealing glances to size you up, get a feel for the kind of person you are. As if he’s analysing you like a hit. He didn’t miss the way your pupils dilated as he scolded you, nor the way your chest heaved as your breathing picked up. The app on your phone looked identical to the one he uses to organise his work schedule. He couldn’t get a clear look, but it surprised him to see that you weren’t scrolling through social media or texting friends. He files that away for later as he forces himself to stop looking at you.

With every passing second his gaze is less analytical and there’s a hunger to the way his eyes travel over your body. He tries to quash the selfish desire roiling in his belly as he focuses back on the road.

~*~

You must have fallen asleep at some point, the rumble of the V8 engine somehow lulling you off to sleep. A broad hand jostles your bare shoulder, and you hum softly as you come around. You look up to see Dave’s dark eyes staring into your own. His jaw is tight, and his plush lips pursed as his palm lingers on the swell of your shoulder.

“We’re here.”

Is all he says before he slides out of the seat, slamming the door behind him as he makes his way to the trunk. He grabs all of your bags this time, not giving you a chance to protest as he exits the garage through a side door you can only assume leads into the house.

The garage is huge, bigger than your entire apartment in New York and you raise an eyebrow at the meticulous organisation of the space. The floors are swept and polished, the dark linoleum flooring practically shining in contrast to the bright white walls. Tool benches and cabinets line the far wall, sandwiching a large work bench between them.

You notice that your mom’s escalade is absent from the garage, she must be out as she would never park on the driveway. You hear Dave call your name from inside the house and hurry through the door.

You recognise the marble countertops and wood floors from the many video calls with your mom when she’s drunk and feeling sentimental. What you hadn’t realised is how goddamn big the kitchen was.

“Fu-uck.”

Dave looks at you with a raised brow for a mere second before he realises you’re marvelling at his kitchen. He winces a little before his right hand rubs against the back of his neck as he tries to find the right thing to say.

“It’s a lot, right?”

There’s a nervous chuckle lacing his tone and you look up with an equally stunned expression as you realise he’s humble. The thought is jarring as you see the bashful flush across his cheeks.

“’Sounds like you didn’t have much of a choice in it?”

You volley back at him, still in minor-shock from the utter opulence of the house. You knew Dave had money, but this was something else.

“Your mom picked the house; I just paid the bill.”

He laughs, but it sounds hollow, rehearsed even.

“Didn’t think mom had it in her.” You mutter under your breath as you remorsefully commend your mother for landing someone with looks and money.

“Have what in her?” Dave asks as he scoffs before leaning against one of the marble countertops.

“Nothing, sorry I’m just exhausted could you show me where I’ll be staying?”

“Follow me.” Dave shrugs, the whimsy leaving his face in a flash as he seems to shake himself mentally.

You do as you’re told and traipse after him. The whole house is a shade of beige, white, or wood textures. It reeks of your mom and her obsession for everything Scandinavian or minimalist.

Sad beige houses for sad beige housewives.

You think to yourself, imagining Werner Herzog speaking the words like in that TikTok video about sad beige children.

Dave shows you to your room and leaves you to unpack and get comfortable. The room is huge, you look around at the sad beige interior design choices and immediately get out your iPad, jotting down notes and making a vague floor plan of the room.

The furniture, though boring, is low priority, clearly never used. The desk to the right of the door lines up perfectly with the base of the bed, perfect. There are two doors on the far-right wall, and you hum to yourself with curiosity as you open the first door. You gawp at the huge ensuite, there’s a walk-in shower big enough for an orgy, with a bench built into the one wall. A rainfall shower head is fixed to the wall opposite the bench and a detachable showerhead hangs above the bench.

“Shit, this is unreal.”

You mutter to yourself as you note the freestanding modern tub in the centre of the room and the double marble countertop sink, all glossy creams and greys. You let out a low whistle as you re-enter the bedroom to open the other door.

You laugh maniacally as you see a full walk-in wardrobe, with a display stand and shoe rack in the middle. You don’t think you even own enough clothes to fill the space.

“I should have given up the lawyer gig sooner.”

You busy yourself with unpacking and getting your filming setup working. Your tower PC and dual monitors set up like a gaming streamer, the perfect cover for any prying eyes. You stow away your box of props under the bed. Multiple masquerade masks, whips, flails, dildos and butt plugs of all shapes and sizes.

Once you’re settled in, you take a few test videos, not happy with the way the light bleeds through the thin blinds. You make a note to add blackout curtains to the list of changes you want to make to the room. You weren’t planning on staying more than a few weeks, but something about the move, the fatigue of crossing the country to settle here in Texas makes you weary. You don’t want to have to move again so soon, so you might as well make the most of this new found opulence.

And it doesn’t hurt that your stepdad is hot.

The thought comes to you and you feel like you should be grossed out, or ashamed for thinking such things, but you realise it has the opposite effect. Thinking about Dave like that is taboo, forbidden, and that only makes it all that more arousing.

~*~

Dave locks the door behind him as he retreats into the basement room he calls his office. The computer desk wedged against the wall to the right, his double bed freshly made from the morning. He strips off his dress shirt and slacks, pulling on an old green USMC hoodie and grey sweatpants. Your mother hates it when he dresses like this, calling it ghetto, or some other derogatory term. But she’s clearly out with her flavour of the month boytoy, Bryce. Dave knows that’s where she goes on nights like this.

If it weren’t the need to keep his cover, he would have left her months ago. Now, he’s faced with the very obvious problem of you.

He slumps down at his desk and turns on his VPN before logging in to his Cam Dolls account. His favourite streamer doesn’t go live on Fridays but he’s sure he can find someone else to scratch the itch.

He’s three pages in, bored by the other prospects, about to give up and just watch standard porn on another site when the notification pops up much to his delight.

Princess Luna has started a live stream.

“Fucking A.” Dave grunts to himself as he shimmies down his sweatpants, already half-hard just at the thought of seeing Luna. But he’s left disappointed, the screen is blank as he clicks through onto the stream.

Other men, he guesses they’re all men, are bombarding the comments on the stream with angry little messages.

Badboy78!: Cockteasing whore, where are you?

GoliathBalls: So what, you just milking us for cash without even showing your tits? Lame.

RedMask$2: Come on Luna, get that pretty little cunt out to play.

The messages keep coming as Luna’s voice lilts through Dave’s speakers and he groans as he squeezes his foreskin over his weeping tip at the sound.

“Aww boys I’m sorry, I’m having some technical difficulties tonight, but I was just way too horny not to come online and speak with my favourite boys.”

Luna takes the whole thing in her stride, her sultry purr seemingly disaffected by the abusive comments.

But it makes Dave furious, he hates the entitlement of the bastards that frequent this site. He pauses in his ministrations on his cock to click through the tip interface. Usually, he keeps it to a modest fifty dollars, enough to be generous but not feel like he’s buying Princess Luna’s attention. It’s delusional he knows, but he usually wants to keep some illusion of decency about his consumption of her work.

Anonymous user left a tip.

Flashes up in the chat box as an excited squeal plays through the speakers and Dave’s cock twitches at the sound of Luna’s exclamation.

“Which one of you boys was so kind as to leave such a generous tip? Don’t be shy, I won’t bite, unless you want me to.”

Dave remains silent as the desperate men in the comments clamber over one another to claim the tip. The schadenfreude of it all only brings Dave closer to the edge as he starts jacking off in earnest. Thinking about being cuckolded by your mother with that pathetic waif of a man Bryce.

“Oh baby I’m going to treat myself to something pretty to wear for you, whoever you are, thank you so much.”

Soft huffs echo through the speakers as Luna starts to put on a show, there’s something intimate about it that has Dave flustered.

“Touching my little pussy thinking about you baby, rolling my aching clit between my fingers as I imagine you here with me.”

“Yeah, fuck yeah that’s it.” Dave grunts under his breath as he closes his eyes, the sound of wet squelching as Luna fingers herself echoing around the room. He’s incensed, uncaring about how the sound might carry if you happened to step out of your room.

Little does he know there’s no risk of that at all. You’re spread across the foot of your bed, fucking yourself with your fingers as you make sure your microphone is positioned just right so your lewd, wet sounds are broadcast over the stream.

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna come, wishing you were here, wishing it were your thick meaty fingers stuffed up in my pretty little pussy.”

“Same baby, wanna treat you right, fuck my come deep inside you until it spills out.” Dave whispers as he feels his balls tighten, he’s going to come any second.

“Yes, that’s it, daddy yes!”

Dave practically roars as the word daddy spills from Luna’s lips, he comes in thick, milky ropes across his fist as he breathes heavily through his nose. His hoodie is covered in it and he huffs out a short chuckle as he hears Luna whine and moan as her release finds her.

“Thanks boys, that was exactly what I needed, I’ll see you on Sunday.”

The stream ends and Dave sits there with a pleased grin on his face as he feels his spend cooling on his hand. His mind drifts to you, and how the little gasp you made in the car won’t stop playing on repeat in his mind.

This could be a problem.

He thinks to himself as his dick twitches at the memory, already getting hard again at just the thought of you.

A real fucking problem.

He reiterates as he coaxes his cock back up with his come smeared fist before imagining you bouncing on his lap.

~*~

You roll awake with a sated smile on your lips, you’d kept going after the stream ended, making yourself come all over your sheets until you whimpered and trembled from overstimulation. You may have even breathed Dave’s name a few times, but you won’t admit that to yourself, not in the bright light of day in Southern Texas.

You take a long shower, making sure to scrub all evidence of your marathon orgasm session from your body before lathering copious amounts of expensive coconut body butter over your skin and fixing your hair up and out of the way.

You pick up your purse and make sure you have everything you need before practically skipping down the stairs.

“Morning.”

You yelp as you round the corner into the kitchen to see Dave reading a newspaper, coffee in one hand and fork in the other as he looks at you with a raised eyebrow. He looks glorious and you try and ignore the painful ache that rocks through your core. He’s in a navy blue hoodie with bold white lettering spelling out “USMC” on it. The sleeves are pushed up to reveal a simple silver watch and his tan forearms.

There’s a plate of eggs and bacon, as well as a pot of coffee and a white mug placed opposite him on the breakfast island. There’s sugar, honey, and milk set to the side and you feel heat bloom in your chest from the thoughtfulness he’d shown.

“Morning, mom not home yet?”

You ask as you round to sit, you pour the coffee, adding nothing to it and you groan as the rich liquid coats your tongue. You note the small twitch of Dave’s lips as he silently approves of how you take your coffee.

“Nah she’ll probably be out tonight too.”

You tilt your head as you chew your food slowly, trying to decipher the look on Dave’s face. It’s closed off, but not cold, like he’s hiding something. But you don’t press, it’s none of your damn business.

“I see, was hoping to borrow her car.”

You drain your coffee before filling it up again, gesturing with the pot to ask Dave if he wants a refill. He nods and pushes his mug over for you to reach. It’s oddly domestic but natural as you play house with your stepdad.

“Can borrow mine, I’m going to be home all day so don’t need it.”

Your eyes go wide as your mouth hangs open at the offer. Excitement humming through your veins at the prospect of driving the Mustang.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, just don’t wrap her round a tree, but I bet you can handle her.”

“I’ll be good to her, I promise!”

You down the rest of your coffee just in time for Dave to throw the key fob at you. You catch it with ease and grin at him.

“Alright, I’ll be back just after noon, you want me to pick up anything for lunch?”

“Sure, surprise me.”

You get up from the stool and clear the plates, loading up the dish washer as you hum happily to yourself. You’re about to head out when Dave calls your name over your shoulder.

“Oh no vegan food, I ain’t no rabbit.”

“Alright Dave, your secret’s safe with me.” You roll your eyes at him playfully before heading out, extensive shopping list in hand as you finally feel some optimism for staying here. You text your mom before pulling out of the garage. You don’t expect a response for some time, seeing as she hadn’t bothered to even check you made it to Dave’s house, her house, in one piece.

You roar down the drive, giving it some gas as you turn onto the main street. You panic for a second as the back end flies out, but you correct the steering with ease and the grin plastered on your face makes your cheeks burn.

Little did you know Dave watched the whole thing, and his smile was a perfect mirror of your own. He leans against the sofa in the front room as you race off into the city, you really are going to be a problem, but if he’s honest with himself, he doesn’t care.

And that terrifies him.

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