#(OR how to put gas in car or see how much money i have to work with or ANYTHING)

[nico-di-genova]

In My Mind, You are Safe

Chapter 4

Read on AO3

“Be safe,” Lance says, leaning down into the car enough that Fernando will hear him through his helmet. It is a bit like Deja vu, pulls at the dregs of a memory, Lance’s last moments in his own car that are still muddled.

Fernando glances up at him through his visor, nods, “Be back soon.”

It is a promise, soothes at the anxiety that prickles along Lance’s spine. Fernando is exceedingly careful in the car these days, in all the ways he can be when he’s doing 300 kph, because he knows Lance is sitting in the garage waiting for him.

Lance cannot race anymore, he’s prone to migraines, his right leg can’t withstand the force required to push down the pedal, the g-forces are a threat to his body that he’s so carefully spent a year putting back together. The FIA will not clear him, no matter how much money his father had tried to throw at them. Instead, Felipe has taken up permanent residence on what used to be his side of the garage - permanent until Yuki replaces him next year. The number 18 exists now only on the small decal Fernando has added to his own helmet, beside the victory cross. The gesture had only fueled the rumors about them, Lance being the first person Fernando greets when he gets out of the car now hadn’t helped.

They’re not subtle, but Lance has earned the luxury of not needing to be. Silverstone especially owes him this, considering it has tasted his blood, nearly claimed him like Lance was the sacrificial lamb brought to the alter. This was the race they had been preparing for, mentally, since Fernando first sat Lance down and explained he wasn’t ready to give up driving.

——————————————

There is an itch under his skin, one he can’t quite reach, when he sits behind a wheel - even if it is the leather wrapped wheel of his Aston Martin as he drives Lance to his physio appointment. His grip tightens around the brown leather, his foot presses harder on the pedal, Lance shoots him a look like he understands. Fernando thinks it looks a lot like jealousy.

They don’t talk about it, the F1 sized car that follows them like a backseat companion, the silent elephant in the room. But Fernando knows the further he pushes the gas, the more Lance looks like it physically pains him. He eases off, lets the speedometer drop back down to a safe range, grabs Lance’s hand that had been tensing around the fabric of his sweat pants and squeezes reassuringly.

Lance doesn’t say anything, doesn’t need to, Fernando can see the tick of his jaw out of the corner of his eye and knows they are close to the breaking point anyway.

———————————

“I want to go back,” Fernando says over dinner, when Lance is chewing a mouthful of roasted veggies and cannot immediately bite back. He tries to be gentle about it, even as he sees Lance’s shoulders tense.

They have been toeing this for months, Fernando snapping because they’ve been stationary in his London home for too long and Lance snapping back because it’s his body that is broken, not Fernando’s, as he likes to point out with spitting frustration. There have been fights, small at first, growing in the past few weeks. Fernando tries not to be mean, but Lance is good at cutting to the bone. They’ve been sleeping in separate rooms.

Lance swallows, stays quiet, his grip on the fork in his hand goes white knuckled. He does not meet Fernando’s eyes, but instead stares down at his plate with resolute defiance.

“I have talked with Lawrence-.”

Lance scoffs, drops the fork so it clatters against the glass top of the dining table. It skitters across the surface before reaching the edge and falling to the ground. Last week it had been Lance’s plate, glass shards exploding across the wood flooring. They’d been fighting about something stupid, the dishes Fernando had left in the sink, a distraction from the conversation Fernando is starting now.

“Lance-.”

“Fuck you,” Lance spits, shoves back from the table with enough force it shifts along the floor, scrapes the hardwood. Lance has been leaving his mark on Fernando’s home like he is trying to prove that he is still there.

“Lance, please-.”

He’s speaking to the retreating back of the man, standing himself because Lance is heading for his room and he wants to stop him before he’s speaking to a locked door.

“Lance-.”

He gets one hand around Lance’s bicep, the fabric of his hoodie, before Lance is jerking away and turning to face him.

“Don’t,” he warns, eyes already dark with the promise of a fight, lips already twisted into a pained scowl. Fernando can see the hurt in his expression, hates that he’s the one to keep putting it there.

“Please, let me explain,” he pleads, reaching for Lance again, needing to soothe the pain from him.

Lance steps back, shakes his head, “Fuck you, Fernando.” His voice is thick, clogged, promises tears even if they haven’t appeared yet.

Fernando swallows back the rising tide of his own.

“You said you wouldn’t go back until I did. You said that.”

“I know-“

“So you’re a fucking liar.”

“No-“

“You talked to my dad. Behind my back. To what? Set up another contract? Was it easier to negotiate now that you could hold caring for me over his head?” Lance wants to hurt him, is trying, stabbing with brutal efficiency because he is tired of being the only one hurting. Fernando gets another hand on him, Lance jerks back away from it like he’s been burned. They’re standing in the living room with their dinner forgotten behind them and Fernando can see the tears forming in Lance’s eyes but he doesn’t know how to stop them anymore.

“I would never Lance, you know this.”

“Do I?”

“Lance-“

“Just stop! Stop. I don’t want to have this conversation with you. Go back to racing, I don’t fucking care. Crash your own car into the wall and then maybe you can join me here again.”

Fernando swallows, blinks, sees Lance’s blood seeping between his fingers in the millisecond of darkness. Lance is still bleeding, and Fernando cannot stop it.

When Lance walks away again Fernando lets him go, jumps at the sound of the door slamming and tries not to think of the way it sounds like an Aston Martin crunching into the concrete.

——————————————

Lance does not go with Fernando to his first race back. Instead, he flies to Montreal and cries in his mother’s arms when she opens the door to him.

He couldn’t drive himself here from the airport, the sun had been too bright and his head had hurt too much and so he’d been forced into the backseat of a tinted SUV and dropped off on his mother’s doorstep. He’s wearing Fernando’s jacket, stolen from his closest as a final fuck you, or maybe a promise that he would be back to return it. It smells like the man, makes the sharp stab in his gut hurt even more. When his mother answers the door he crumples.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she soothes, as Lance sobs in her arms and tries to ignore the throbbing pain in his leg.

Right now Fernando is probably sliding into his race suit. Right now he is thinking of plan A, thinking of winning. Right now he is speaking with Felipe who is driving Lance’s car, with Lance’s team. Lance wonders if Fernando will fuck Felipe too, tell him he’s doing a good job, crash into him and send his whole world spiraling out of control along with his car.

“It hurts,” he cries, unable to tell if he means his body, or his head, or the gaping hole Fernando has left in his chest. It’s all the same at this point, indistinguishable.

———————————

“My son is with his mother,” Lawrence accuses.

Fernando, hair still damp from his shower, skin still flushed from the podium, has the decency to look ashamed. It only makes Lawrence angrier.

“He flew to Canada. Alone.”

“He is cleared to fly, Lawrence-”

“I told you. If you stayed you better mean it. So why is my ex-wife telling me Lance was crying on her doorstep?”

Lawrence can be an intimidating man when he means to be, when Lance isn’t around to make him appear only as a doting father. He makes sure to stand to his full height, tower over Fernando in his temporary office in the Aston Martin motorhome. Claire had told him Lance had only just fallen asleep, after the migraine pills had soaked in enough to make the rest come easier. She’d FaceTimed him while she was lying with Lance in his bed, the brown tufts of Lance’s hair just barely visible from where he was passed out in Claire’s lap. When she spoke, it had been in a berating hush.

Fernando must know about the flight, he doesn’t look shocked to hear Lance is not where he left him.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” he admits, hangs his head. “Racing, I am good at. It is what I know.”

“Yeah. It’s what Lance knew too.”

Fernando jerks like he’s been punched, looks up at Lawrence with shame and hurt.

“I wanted him to come back. I want him in the car beside me. I thought- I wanted to think he could.”

Both he and Lawrence know it’s a lie, both knew there was no chance of Lance racing again. Delusion could only go so far, and the scar on Lance’s abdomen was too large to ignore. When Fernando had asked for his seat back, Lawrence had given it to him on the condition that Lance agree. Instead, Lance is in Canada and Fernando is alone.

He’s wearing a hoodie that’s too big for him, is clearly one of Lance’s, Lawrence almost demands it back. But he is not cruel, and Fernando is hurting in much the same way his son is.

“I told you it wouldn’t be easy,” Lawrence sighs, “he’s stubborn, you’re hardheaded.”

“He is upset I came back,” Fernando mumbles, “I do not blame him.”

“He’s hurt that you could,” Lawrence corrects, places a hand on Fernando’s shoulder. It might be a comfort, or a threat, he isn’t sure which yet.

On the FaceTime Claire had demanded he fix this, while her hand was soothingly working its way through the tangled strands of Lance’s hair. He’s still trying to decide just how he’s going to do that. Fernando has been his friend, someone who he once would have trusted his son’s life with, and now he is the man who has nearly ripped Lance away from him, who Lance loves.

“You have time before the next race?” He asks, less of a question, more of a demand that he make the time.

Fernando thinks it over, nods.

“Book a flight to Montreal.”

——————————————

Lance sleeps a lot now, has little else to do to pass the time. He sleeps because the sheets he’s wrapped up in smell like home, because when his mom sits beside him he feels small and safe, because when he dreams it is the one place he can still be behind the wheel.

He dreams of winning, and wakes to the soured taste of failure. In the end, everyone was right, Lance is not a victor and he will never prove them wrong.

At some point he falls asleep and wakes to Fernando pressing a kiss to his temple, isn’t sure if he’s still dreaming. The scratch of his stubble, the scent of him, like rubber and pine, is strong enough that Lance chases it. His head lifts, his eyes flutter open, and Fernando is staring back at him.

“Nando?” He asks, groggy, reaching a hand blindly for Fernando and finding himself slightly startled when it meets his chin and doesn’t phase through. Sometimes he dreams of chasing Fernando, in the car, or on legs that sometimes don’t support his weight, watching the man slip out of his grasp when he does manage to catch him.

Fernando grabs his hand with his own, leans into Lance’s touch where he’s cradling his cheek. He’s kneeling beside Lance’s bed, in a position that would have Lance aching in two seconds if he tried it. Sometimes it’s funny to remember that Fernando is the older of the two of them. Ironic that Lance is the one who complains of sore joints now.

“Hey, churri,” Fernando greets, smiles softly. In the morning light filtering through Lance’s closed blinds his smile is muted, doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

The nickname is sweet, soothes over the cracked edges of Lance’s ripped open chest.

“How was the race?” He asks, as the last bits of sleep keep his mind foggy, makes him forget to be angry. Instead he is focused on how warm Fernando feels, on the fact that he is wearing one of Lance’s favorite hoodies - the one with the string pulled out because Lance had messed with it so much it had become frayed, made more sense just to remove it entirely.

Fernando grimaces, shakes his head, “I will tell you later.”

“Okay.”

“Can I lay here?” He nods at the sliver of empty space on the twin mattress behind Lance.

Lance nods, closes his eyes because his head is starting to ache again and sleep is the only way to stop it. Water too maybe, if he bothered to stay hydrated enough.

Fernando climbs onto the mattress beside him, nuzzles his nose against the nape of Lance’s neck and presses another stubble rough kiss there. His arm wrapped around Lance’s waist is gentle, hand splaying across his scarred abdomen like he’s trying to protect him from further harm.

Lance feels him breathe, the warm press of him along his back. It lulls him quickly back into unconsciousness.

———————————

Lance’s shirt rides up enough in his sleep that when Fernando wakes it’s to the rough edges of his scar against Fernando’s calloused fingers. Gross fascination has him tracing it, all the way up until he meets the end of it just below Lance’s ribs. He can feel the ghost of Lance’s heartbeat here, hear him snoring softly in his sleep. It’s healed now, the wound, which means that Fernando has not seen it since he stopped having to change the bandages. Lance doesn’t like him looking at it, avoids seeing it himself.

They stopped showering together, and they haven’t slept together since Lance’s accident. Fernando blames himself partly for the latter. Despite how much he wants to, he is afraid to hurt Lance further. Instead, he jerks off in the solitude of his room now and bites his hand to stop Lance’s name from spilling out of him.

“You don’t fuck me anymore,” Lance had complained one night, before the fighting had them sleeping separately, and Fernando hadn’t disagreed.

He is scared, afraid of the damage he has already caused, terrified of wreaking more. The scar under his fingers is proof, unfading, permanent, makes him feel sick with guilt.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers and presses another kiss to Lance’s neck. Lance has told him to stop apologizing, but he doesn’t think he could ever say it enough to absolve himself.

Lance will never race again, and Fernando is already back in the car. Because he is selfish, because he does not know how to sit still, because racing is all he knows and in caring for Lance he is scared he has only hurt him further.

Lance moans in his sleep, shifts back further against Fernando. Fernando holds him, fully, wholly, and hopes it will be enough.

—————————

“If you want me to stop, I will,” he says to Lance later, when they are sitting in the sunroom of Lance’s mother’s house. It’s warm only because of the heater set to high, the snow piling against the windows doing little to help.

Lance, bundled in a blanket and a beanie on the couch beside Fernando, stares at him. Looks hurt for only a second before his brows furrow and it becomes anger.

“What?”

“I’ll retire, if you want me to, I will do it,” he means it as a gesture of trust, as proof that he does not want to lose what they have. Even if not being in the car would make him a little crazy, even if he would always yearn for it.

Lance stares at him. He pulls the blanket tighter around himself, ducks down further into the fabric. It’s the comforter pulled from his bed, dark blue with grey stitching. Fernando wonders if it’s the same bedding he slept under as a teenager. Wonders if this is what Lance might have looked like when he occupied this space as a child.

“You mean more, Lance. More than racing, you know this.”

He isn’t sure what to expect but Lance’s response of, “Go fuck yourself, Nando,” certainly wasn’t at the top of his list.

“You don’t get to put this on me. Retire if you want, but don’t blame me for it.”

“That is not what I meant-“

“Yes it is, of course it is, because you don’t want to stop. You know you don’t. You just want me to tell you to and I’m not going to trap you here. I won’t be responsible for that.”

Fernando watches him, watches as the dim sunlight through the clouds catches the shine of tears in his eyes. Watches as Lance pulls the blanket impossibly tighter, like he’s trying to vanish inside of It. He wants to reach out, pull Lance to him, but is scared to shatter the feeble ground they’re resting on. Too many conversations between them have turned to arguments these past few weeks.

“Because it fucking sucks, man,” Lance sniffles, wipes at his eyes with the fabric of the comforter, “being on the other end, knowing you’re done. I won’t do that to you.”

But I did it to you, Fernando thinks. I did this.

Lance’s blood will not wash off his hands, will not stop dripping through his fingers. He is pressing as hard as he can and Lance is still looking up at him with fear blown eyes and a silent plea. He is mouthing Fernando’s name and all that is coming up is crimson that stains his lips.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispers into the quiet space of the sunroom. More of you because so much has already been taken by Fernando’s own hands.

“I won’t tell you to retire. Please don’t make me.”

“What do we do then?”

Lance shrugs, muffles his response against the comforter he folds further into, “I don’t know.”

———————————

Fernando races in Jeddah and Lance stays in Canada. His mind is scattered, unfocused, thinking of a kiss in the fresh snowfall that had felt like goodbye. Which is maybe why he taps the wall on lap 6 and ends his race in the barriers of turn 23.

Lance is the first missed call on his phone when he gets back to the garage. He calls him back immediately.

“Are you okay?” Lance asks, answering after two rings, sounding panicked in a way that is new. Fernando hates it, hates how he can hear the hitch in Lance’s voice.

“I’m fine, cariño, don’t worry. It was small.”

Lance sighs, shaky across the line, “you’re sure?”

“Already cleared by medical. About to go to the media pen now.”

Lance should know this, if he’d been watching as he so clearly had he would have seen how insignificant of a crash it was. Barely anything.

“But the wheel snapped hard, your hands-“

“Lance, I am okay. Promise.”

A bit sore maybe, from the straps digging into his chest, but no more than he’s already used to. Lance still sounds worried, his breath still hitching.

“Lance?”

“Sorry- fuck. Sorry,” he sniffles and it’s a wet sound, thick with snot.

“Baby,” Fernando soothes, feels the familiar guilt at the back of his mouth.

“I’m sorry. I don’t- I don’t know what’s happening,” Lance continues, breathing worsening. “I thought- it was- I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Lancito. You’re okay. Breathe baby, is okay.”

He’s standing with his race suit around his hips in the garage, hadn’t even made it to the privacy of his drivers room because he didn’t think this would be much of a phone call at all. His handler is standing in the back trying to flag him down for the media duties he’s probably currently missing. Lingering engineers keep shooting him confused looks. Lance is panicking on the other end of the line though, safe in Canada wrapped in the security of his childhood blanket and it still isn’t enough to quell his choked breathing.

“Lance. Listen to me. Please. I am okay.”

“O-okay.”

“Completely fine. Some bruising maybe, but is all.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want me to come home, you can see yourself?”

Home meaning to Lance, he doesn’t care whose house it is, as long as it’s Lance who’s opening the door for him.

There’s static on the other end of the line, Lance’s muffled hyperventilating and then, “Y-yeah. Yes, please.”

“Okay, let me finish up here and I’ll get on the next flight. It’s alright. All okay.”

“Okay,” Lance repeats.

Fernando thinks of blood, Lance who’d been choking on it, how Lance wouldn’t have been there to pull him from the wreckage if that’s what it had come to. He wonders if Lance is thinking the same thing.

“Breathe,” he commands one last time, waits until he can hear Lance drawing air into his lungs, and then promises to be home soon. In the media pen he is short, curt, excuses himself with a speed that is unlike him off the track and then rushes back to his drivers room to change. His assistant has already booked him a flight and sent the details to Lance, all handled while Fernando was explaining to SkySports how he had ended his race in the wall.

He thinks about retiring on the plane, has a text to Lawrence drafted, but can’t bring himself to hit send. After all, the crash hasn’t scared him, just made him hungry for the chance to do better in the next race.

————————

Lance doesn’t remember his crash, not outside of the YouTube footage and Fernando’s own account. He doesn’t remember being scared, feeling his body failing him as he bled out steadily on the gravel. But he maybe feels the ghost of it when Fernando crashes.

He tastes copper at the back of his throat, far enough back that it can’t be blamed on split skin when he bites at his bottom lip too hard. They replay the crash, slow it down to discuss the details and Lance feels sick.

He calls Fernando, even though he knows the man is still in the car, only just climbing out of it, and swallows down vomit when it goes to voicemail.

It’s only the front wing that’s damaged, buried in the tire wall. And Lance can see that, but he can’t stop shaking anyway.

His mother sits with him, holds his hand while Lance tries to breathe around his tears. It is perhaps the most vulnerable he’s been with her since he was a child, with anyone, usually trying to hide away on his own before he breaks down. But the panic coursing its way through him glues him to the couch and then keeps him there long after he’s off the phone with Fernando.

He drifts in and out of sleep, takes pills that are offered to him and sips water from a glass with shaky hands when it’s pressed to his lips. At some point someone brings him food, crackers and fruit that he picks at numbly before growing disinterested and falling back asleep.

When he wakes up next it’s with a pounding headache and to the darkness of night. His phone is the only light, bright and harsh, making him squint as he paws for it on the coffee table.

There are two missed calls and six texts from Fernando, the last of which reads ‘here’ and sent two minutes ago.

Lance, barefoot and in a thin sleep shirt, stumbles to the front door with blind relief. Throws it open, despite the snow and the harsh wind, and then flings himself into Fernando’s arms.

“See,” Fernando soothes, cradles the back of Lances head, “All okay.”

————————

“I will retire at the end of the year,” Fernando promises, once they’re back indoors and warming themselves by the fire started by the staff and left running for Lance’s benefit.

They’re curled up on the couch, Lance having stripped Fernando of his shirt so he can inspect the bruises left behind by the straps of the car. Fernando sits with his back sinking into the plush pillows beneath him and Lance sits straddling his lap. He’d buried his face in the crook of Fernando’s neck after inspecting him, ensuring the bruises were just that, and then cried silently while Fernando traced patterns along the ridges of his spine. And then they’d stayed like that because Lance had gone slack against him and his breathing had evened out.

“Give me the year, yes? And then I am done.”

He’d thought about it on the ride from the airport to here, fingers picking at the edge of his phone and biting the inside of his cheek. He’d weighed the cost of his career against the cost of losing Lance and found that F1 would never win in the end. Besides, there was always endurance racing, other series he could entertain himself with. Other things Lance could maybe even take part in. He’s thinking about taking Lance karting, loops around a track, just the two of them, where Lance can maybe start to build back toward something. Because he knows Lance is the same as him, deep down, misses the feel of a wheel in his hand in the same way Fernando had during his brief breaks. When you are raised on it, when it is the only thing you know, you grow to miss the taste of it.

Even if the taste has gone sour with fear.

“One more year?” Lance asks, chapped lips moving against the soft part of Fernando’s neck, “That’s what you want?”

“I want you, Lance. That’s it. It is not the same if you’re not there.” Which is true, Felipe does not race the same, is not as sensitive to the finer bits of the car, does not have the same easy presence that Lance had. It all feels wrong, not at all like the team Fernando had signed on to, even most of Felipe’s engineers are new. And sure, their results are better, but only barely. Lance could drive the car to its limit, Felipe is still too reserved.

The grid is changing as a whole too, enough that Fernando finds himself searching for familiar faces in a sea of strangers. But being here with Lance is easy, feels right, even if the man is heavy against him and the weight of him is making the bruises on his chest ache.

He would hurt for Lance, do anything for Lance, knows that it isn’t the car he wants to be with in ten years time, but the man in his lap. Lance has been here just as long as racing has almost, once as a child who had clung to his father and looked at Fernando with adoration, now as someone who Fernando would consider an equal. He means just as much as a championship might, more maybe.

“It’s you. Always you, okay?��

The car can crash, Fernando will always pull Lance out.

————————

Lawerence has been working his whole life to make Lance smile, and yet it is still Fernando that manages it so easily. Fernando who wins in Silverstone, who stands on the top step of the podium and showers first Max and Charles in champagne, and then turns to douse the crowd below him. It is Lance he aims for, stood beside Lawerence and beaming up at Fernando as the champagne spray showers them in sticky drops.

Lawrence watches his son, the way he cheers Fernando’s name with the crowd, the way he’s sporting Fernando’s team cap backwards on his head, the new one, with the 18 embroidered along Alonso’s number. Because it is not just himself the man is racing for this year, but Lance as well.

The FIA hadn’t wanted to allow the duel numbers at first, but while Lawerence could not buy Lance his health back, he could do this. So 18 finishes next to 14 on the podium, because both numbers are present on Fernando’s suit as well. It is Fernando who will earn the points, but it is Lance who Fernando celebrates.

Lance laughs beside him, and Lawrence cherishes the sound, lets it replace the fading memory of a heart monitor and silence. He lets the champagne soak into his suit, watches it coat Lance’s hoodie and Fernando, and he envisions it soaking away the blood that was spilled here a year ago. Envisions crimson giving way to sweet champagne and the audible sound of Lance calling Fernando’s name.

Fernando is no longer hooking a finger around Lance’s pinkie, praying he wakes up, afraid to touch any other part of him, instead he has slid a metal band onto his ring finger and it glints in the sunlight.

It is nearly as bright as Lance’s smile.

#it is done :) #also this too was written on my notes app #stuck at my parents without my laptop so this is the result #I actually am very proud of this #reviews very much appreciated because this one took a lot out of me tbh #strollonso #strollonso fic #formula 1 #lance stroll #fernando alonso

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

#this is a good one of these kinds of posts I swear #just wanna do a shoutout to my bestie even though I know he won’t see this #but I love him and feel like hyping him up anyway and don’t wanna make a whole actual post about it and annoy everyone #anyway yesterday I took my car in for an oil change and tune up thing and didn’t know how long it was gonna take so I set up a ride #with bestie back to my mom’s place if it was gonna be a while but then they said it’d only be like an hour and a half or so unless there was #actually something wrong with my car in which case we’d just discuss it and go from there. so bestie picks me up at the car place and I tell #him that and say he doesn’t have to stay and I can just wait there at the place if he’s busy but he says nah he gonna hang with me. asks if #I’m hungry and wanna get lunch and I hadn’t eaten yet so it worked out. went to the good Mexican place in town and order in their drive thru #I ask if he wants me to cash app him some money to cover my share and he very aggressively says ‘oh hell no’ which was honestly adorable and #really sweet. goes on to say ‘girl you know you don’t need to worry about money’ which is also super sweet and makes me feel all weird and #wiggly inside cause I’m not used to people being kind to me in that way or just buying me shit just because. and he’s always doing that kind #of stuff too just paying for my food or sending me money if I pick stuff up for us or whatever. dude got bucks at least good for him. but #yeah anyway so we got the food and then he went to a gas station to get us drinks then parked and ate and hung out with me until my car was #ready to go. even offered me money to cover the cost for the car if I needed anything major done and I could just pay him back little by #little. thankfully car is all good but his sentiment was well taken and much appreciated. gave me a big hug before we parted ways as he #usually does and bro gives the best hugs for real they’re so instantly comforting and you really feel the love they make me so happy. and he #even is gonna help me put together a new desk and chair at my house so I’ll have a place to do schoolwork at home and finally setup my tv in #my room. dude does so much for me and will then thank me just for hanging out with him as if I did anything special at all #this man deserves the whole fucking world and I’d do anything for him. love him so much #so ye that’s my hype post for my boy cause I just had to brag about him somewhere and get my feelings out #personal

[talkorsomething]

Yet another phone screening tomorrow... well, it's a seasonal position, so i wonder if i might actually get past it this time? But i'm realizing i don't really know what that means....

Not sure how i'll respond if they ask about employment again. It's a weird situation and i don't even know what my position is supposed to be, so now i'm at a disadvantage when applying online?!

Not sure what I'll do if they tell me i've got it, either. That seems unlikely? But maybe it could happen......

If nothing goes through i definitely have to call somewhere else to see if they're actually hiring 🫠 but actually calling..........

#100% секретный дневник левы НЕ ЧИТАЙ #its so frustrating to me b/c i'm only at this point because i *pushed* myself to get here #but i cant actually ask for help for literally like No Reason #and nobody tells me like anything and i dont know what to expect Ever #need to probably give up and head out to ask in-person but a) talking b) wtf to say and c) no idea how much gas is in the car #(OR how to put gas in car or see how much money i have to work with or ANYTHING) #ive just been pissed recently its probably due to [redacted] but even so everything still stands #HOW i am supposed to do something i was shown Once when i was maybe 14 and with no money i dont know but by god they expect me to do it #everything sucks and i want to chew my arm off yes im fine thanks for asking <3

[kuromochimi]

baby I’m nothing like your broke ex

gojo satoru, nanami kento

Content warnings: mentions of past toxic relationships, not proof read

🔜 suguru geto, kamo choso, higuruma hiromi

Gojo Satoru

Satoru was rich. Like rich RICH. You first noticed this the moment you met him when you spilled coffee on his shirt then offered to buy him a new one instead. Instant regret when you realized that his shirt was worth more than your entire closet combined.

Being in a relationship with him was… well it was an adjustment. You lived a fairly simple life before you met him. It wasn’t a bad life. You still got to spend on your wants here and there but you had to budget such things much like any other common person had to. On the other hand, the word budget was non-existent to satoru especially when it came to you. He quite literally gave you everything. A few weeks into the relationship though, he had noticed how reluctant you were to accept his presents. You didn’t seem uncomfortable, just.. reluctant. He toned down a bit after this realization. But god he just couldn’t figure out why you were almost unwilling to accept anything at all from him, even food, even a ride home, even his hoodie which he already said you could keep. “Baby” he called to which you responded by looking his way. “Why do you never want to accept my presents?” He asked before he got up to approach you, immediately hugging you from the back as soon as you were within reach. “Hmm it’s not that I don’t want to.. it’s just.. you have to let me get used to these things first, okay?” satoru raised his brow “baby I know that shitty ex of yours can’t come close to how much I spoil you but was he that stingy?” at first satoru was only joking but your silence meant it was probably true. “So he was?” He asked as his chin was resting on your shoulder. “Come on satoru, he’s a thing of the past. He doesn’t matter anymore, ‘kay?” You tried your best to steer away from having to tell your boyfriend in detail but he’s right. Your ex was stingy as hell. It’s not like you ever asked for anything too much in fact, you don’t ever remember asking for anything at all. All the times he had to pick you up, he asked for gas money which seemed fair enough but it wasn’t just that. The man loved going on and extravagant dates but was never willing to fish out more than gas money. He adored receiving presents from you but could never be bothered to get you even the cheapest flowers. He used to say that he was just saving up to be able to give you the life you deserve but 8 years of having to sustain the luxurious lifestyle of a bum just made you snap hence, the break up. Satoru’s tightening embrace woke you from that little flashback. “Okay baby, I’ll make sure to spoil you but don’t hesitate to tell me if I go overboard hm? Love you” he gave you a kiss on the cheek and god, you felt so lucky to have found such a good man.

Nanami Kento

It quite literally took years of yearning for nanami to be finally able to date you. He was your junior in university and your junior at work as well. All that time, he had to witness you be head over heels for your then boyfriend, another one of his seniors. He thought the man might have put a spell on you because for the love of god, he could not see what kept you with the jerk for so long. Having observed your relationship from when he was a college freshman up to when he was a work colleague, your ex never even tried to mask how selfish he was with you. The man dawned expensive watches and drove a not so cheap car, he loved going to expensive places with his friends but with you? He wouldn’t hesitate to pass you the bill (like 85% of the time) whenever you went on dates, bought you nothing but cheap jewelry and quality reject flowers just because they were cheaper. Even worse, he also let you take the crowded train home everyday despite him driving to and from work everyday. He just couldn’t be bothered to pick you up because your workplace was “too far” and gas was expensive. If he really was struggling, it wouldn’t have been a problem but any person could see that he was more than capable of treating you better. He just didn’t want to.

Dating nanami was like a breath of fresh air. It’s not like you were materialistic in the first place but receiving pretty flowers and having someone make sure you’s comfortable and safe felt so heartwarming. On top of that, nanami didn’t make it feel like he was obligated to do any of that. He just genuinely wanted to care for you. It was all new to you that you even had to ask him to stop spoiling you too much, you felt bad accepting all that he was giving. “I know you don’t need them and I know you’re capable but let me do these things for you, hm?” Was what he’d always say and despite bot being able to voice it out to him yet, there is so much love in you knowing that it was possible to be treated this way. With so much care and love and concern.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami fluff

[chrollohearttags]

drug dealer!mikasa and her hood princess gf headcanons

📝: don’t y’all judge me but this been in my head all day and it’s not going nowhere so I’m sharing the delusion.

mentions of heavy drugs, violence and weapons, robbery and setups, smut warning, tribbing, gunplay, fingering, car sex, Mika being a freak

drug dealer!mikasa, who you first met while working at a gas station was so infatuated the moment she laid eyes on you. Always frequenting on your scheduled days and making more visits than the average customer.

drug dealer!mikasa, who always looked fine as hell, regardless of how she was presenting that day. Whether she in a pair of baggy joggers, band t-shirt and a pair of Nikes or tight fitting two piece skirt and tube top that revealed all of the tattoos littering her toned body. Nothing but designer and expensive shit touched her skin.

drug dealer!mikasa appeared cool as a fan but every time she entered that store, she wondered how she was going to approach a bad bitch like you..loving your various hairstyles that you switched out weekly and duck bill nails. Not to mention the gold hoops dangling from your ears, clavicle piercings and tattoos.

“Who done your arm piece? It’s beautiful.” “From the shop on 104th. The tall dude with the long hair? Him.”

drug dealer!mikasa only smirked when you brought him up because she knew him very well. “That’s my boy Eren. We used to work together.” Failing to mention that said work involved a little something on the illegal side. Something she could never give up as easily.

drug dealer!mikasa, who drove a brand new matte black Audi R8 or Benz Truck when you saw her and wore jewelry that could pay your rent always gave a vague answer when you asked her what she done for a living.

“Shit, I’m tryna get like you, pookah. What you do for work?” “Family business. Nothing major.”

drug dealer!mikasa, who lived with her uncle, a well known club owner and kingpin attended the university as a business student, put her studies to good use selling all types of drugs to her peers; from the star football player to the stuck up sorority girls. It brought her joy to see those bitches tweaking on her supply.

drug dealer!mikasa, who mainly hung out on your side of town would offer to smoke you out after your shifts as you two sat in her car. Talking about random shit and having a good time. It was one night when the two of you were chilling when you decided to ask her once more what she done while she was high.

“I already told you, I’m in the family business.” uttering as you caught a glimpse of the baby Glock tucked between her console and a dime bag right beside it.

drug dealer!mikasa knew she couldn’t keep her secret any longer and seeing the excitement in your eyes at the prospect of her being a dealer, began to spend a lot more time with you and a whole lot more money! Buying you gifts, taking you out and spending racks at the strip club with you.

drug dealer!mikasa loved having you by her side when she made her drops. Knowing that you weren’t some boujie bitch who’d be scared. Sitting pretty in her passenger seat and holding her pistol. Not to mention that having a sidekick made it easier to hit a lick. Setting men up from her uncle’s club who had been harassing girls and robbing them blind.

“That dude again? Don’t worry, we’ll take care of him. Right, baby?” “Of course, this gon’ be fun.”

drug dealer!mikasa, who didn’t even need drugs after the high of watching you get these assholes down to their underwear and then coming in for the drop. Getting turned on by watching you count your money up while the guy cried in the corner. Just having to fuck you crazy afterwards.

“Yeah, suck on that gun like you did him, baby.” That mouth is so fucking pretty..” shoving her barrel between your lips as she fingered you in the front seat. Knowing how much wetter it got that little plump pussy.

drug dealer!mikasa loved when you fed each other percs because the sex was ten times more intense. From letting your tongue piercings clash in sloppy kisses as you scissored to riding a double sided dildo for almost an hour; going back and forth to see who could come the most. Leaving the bed drenched in your puddles of squirt and silky cream.

drug dealer!mikasa dicked you down better than any man with that thick eight inch strap on. Pounding you from behind and slapping your thick ass with each stroke.

“You fucking the shit out this pussy!…oooh..” “Then come for me, gorgeous. Give me that shit.”

drug dealer!mikasa ate you out and stimulated herself with a vibrator until the two of you finally tapped out and came down from that high.

drug dealer!mikasa had never met a girl like you, knew she’d never be able to fuck with anyone else after getting a taste of you.

#cherry’s drabbles 🍒 #late post #aot x black reader #black fem reader #x black fem reader #mikasa x black reader #mikasa headcanons #mikasa smut #mikasa attack on titan #aot mikasa #mikasa aot #attack on titan mikasa #mikasa ackerman #mikasa ackerman x reader #shingeki no kyojin mikasa #wlw headcanons #wlw fiction #wlw ship #black reader insert #black reader smut #aot au #alternate universe #modern au #drugs cw #cw smut #cw violence #cw gun #cw gun violence #aot headcanons #I am so (not) sorry about this

[bonny-kookoo]

Does someone older JK spoil the OC sometimes? Like surprise her with something which he considerd to be nothing it would mean so much to her?

Oh he does, ALL the time! Warnings for a bit of angst, beginnings of a panic attack but Kook handles it well

"...we can go there again, maybe before new year's if I can get a table on short notice." He simply says as he drives you both back to his place, radio playing quietly in the background.

You're still a little overwhelmed.

He does things like this a lot- expensive dinner dates in restaurants he either knows or wants to try out, randomly buying you clothes or jewelry he finds online and deems pretty, or he just changes things in his house to adjust it more towards you and your preferences. Like the pillows in his bedroom, the by now multiple pairs of thick socks for your cold feet, or the baking supplies he bought for you now stacking up in his kitchen.

It's things like that you're not used to. In the past, it has always been you who needed to adjust and do things for your partner- not the other way around. So now, you feel almost guilty whenever he does something- like a bank account draining, slowly going further and further into the negatives, red numbers piling up and making you anxious as to when he'll want it all payed back.

"Did you not like it?" He wonders, taking your silence as a sign of discomfort as he pulls up on the expressway. "You don't have to lie." He chuckles, reaching out to hold your hand.

"No, it's not that." You deny, letting him warm up your cold fingers. "It's just.. it was a little expensive, no?" You wonder, and he shrugs.

"Was it? To be honest, I don't think it was considering what we ate." He just brushes off. "I've been to steak restaurants that were a lot more expensive and half the quality. And the service was great too, so I didn't mind." Jungkook explains, and it's now that you realize once again that you and him live in quite different worlds. Or at least, used to.

For him, money isn't an issue. He's made and is making enough of it to live comfortably, he doesn't have to really worry about running out of it anytime soon, even if his company was to go bankrupt next week. And he's also got enough saved up, has invested with good tactics in mind, so it's really no wonder he doesn't see a problem in spending the amount that he does.

But you aren't used to that. You have been living paycheck to paycheck with barely anything left over at the end of the month, needing your bonus desperately as to not fall behind on any payments you have to make regularly. You've lost your apartment before, had to sleep at friend's places to get by, and even ate only at the company cafeteria to save money usually spent on groceries. All of this feels almost excessive, and you also worry.

What if Jungkook starts spending too much on you? He shouldn't fall into a habit of mindlessly throwing money out.

"What's on your mind, darling?" He wonders, lifting your hand to kiss the back of it, before he changes lanes.

"I just.." you fidget a little. Jungkook isn't a bad guy. He won't get mad. He won't scold you. You won't have to endure being lectured for the rest of the ride- you know all this, and yet again, the past haunts you and makes your breathing pick up as you begin to chew on your lip.

Suddenly, you realize he's pulling up to a gas station, parking on the side. He gets out to get something from the backseat, before he walks around the car to open the passenger door where you sit, unbuckling your seatbelt. "Here." he offers the bottle of water, having opened the cap for you. "Put your legs out like that- there we go. Breathe baby." He gently tells you, squatting down a bit to make himself look smaller. "Take your time."

You feel embarrassed. How do you explain to him that you were feeling like a kid about to confess a bad grade just now?

"We can keep it a one-in-a-month thing, maybe, if that makes you more comfortable." He proposes. "I didn't take into account that it might be overwhelming to you- I'm sorry." He apologizes, but you shake your head, looking down at your knees.

"I just.." You mumble, unsure how to really explain. "I feel.. back then, you know.." You sigh, having trouble finding the proper words. "Talking in the car makes me.. anxious." You admit. "Because you know, when you get mad.. I can't escape.." You say. "I can't get away from it."

Jungkook kindly takes the bottle away from you to put it on the backseat again, before he's back in front of you.

"Thanks for telling me. I had an idea it might be that, but I wasn't sure." Jungkook says, hands on your knees. "I promise you I'm not mad. And I'm in no position to be mad at you for having opinions or personal taste that might differs from mine. We're two different people-" He chuckles. "-of course we'll have different views on things."

"But I really liked the dinner too." You say. "I just.. I don't want you to start.. spending so much money on me to the point of, I don't know, losing sight of it." You confess. "And maybe, we should keep stuff like this a bit rare? So it doesn't become routine. I want to keep it special.." You say. "I'm not.. I don't really know much about this stuff, because I never had enough money to go to these fancy places, and get designer clothes, or plan vacations in different countries and all that. I feel.. stupid sometimes?" You spill, making him lean his head a bit to the side. "Like, what if you one day take me to a company gathering or something, and someone asks me something and I can't answer or I say something dumb-" You rant. "-or maybe you won't ever take me because I'm too young? Maybe Eve is right and I'm not really the kind of-"

"Baby, darling, stop-" He chuckles, pushing your shoulders back a bit to look at him. "-take a good breath. You're panicking." He worries a little, but tries hard to stay composed as to not make you spiral any further. "Eve is wrong. If you're okay with this, of course I'll take you to company events. Why wouldn't I show off such a beautiful women at my side? I'd never pass up a chance to make those stuck up geezers jealous." He jokes, making your crack up a little. "Let's keep the dinners to special occasions. Keep it special, like you said." He offers, holding your hands now. "And I'm also.. the fact that you worry about me makes me feel.. very special." he chuckles. "I appreciate you looking out for me."

"I always look out for you.." You mumble. "..I just don't want to overstep any lines. You know. Since you're older than me-"

"Just because I'm older doesn't automatically mean that I know everything better." He reassures you. "Our age gap has nothing to do with any sort of power balance. Please don't think you can't speak your mind just because I was born earlier than you."

"..okay." You nod, and he leans forward to peck your lips, before he closes the door for you after you pull your legs back in and buckle your seatbelt, him getting back into the driver's seat to do the same.

"You know.." he starts, as he pulls out of the gas station to continue the drive back home. "..I'm really falling in love with you." He chuckles, dimples of his cheeks showing with how hard he smiles.

"Huh?" You wonder, taken aback by the sudden confession.

"I mean it." He nods. "I really am."

"I'm glad then." You admit. "..cause I am too." You admit, making him grin before he reaches over to hold your hand again.

Knowing that he really won't ever let you go again.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic

[cod-imagines-fanfiction]

Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend part 7 (3.4k words)

Summary: Now in the custody of the Mexican Army, Y/N is transferred to an incarceration facility and meets her unexpected bunkie

Warnings: LESBIAN SMUT, filth but very loving :) Note at the end Link to A03 Links to part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

The journey to prison seemed never-ending. Y/N watched the world beyond from the small window next to her, watched as they traversed past dry, yellow fields, past abandoned gas stations. Past faded, rusty signs that were littered with bullet holes. She watched the world dim as the sun fell, the soft glow of twilight as the sun dipped below the horizon. The oranges and pinks shone so briefly but beautifully on the sky right before the darkness descended. The man across from her said that Valeria was in the van behind them. If there was such a van, it was way behind them and impossible to see. She only hoped that this misery would soon be over, that the cold metal bands around her wrists would be removed and she could walk free.

Only that she wouldn't. She and Valeria had reached the point of no return, that much she knew. The life they lived before - the secluded glamour, their intoxicating, opulent love - vaporised into nothingness. They cheated the world all these years and pretended that the truth wouldn't - couldn't - reach them. That the world would forget about their queer domesticity, their illegal lifestyle. Illegal because that lifestyle was funded entirely by drug money and violence. But the balancing scales finally tipped and Valeria would get what the world believed she deserved. And seemingly, the drugs were only part of the picture. Missiles. Terrorism. You'd heard those words scattered in conversations relating to Valeria and they made you shudder. There was a darkness that, so far, had lived on the periphery of your life with Valeria. A darkness that could be suppressed, that you could pretend was not really there. You pretended that the diamond jewels Valeria dressed you in were bought with honest money. Pretend that the men brought to the tunnelled rooms beneath your house were there for job interviews, not for interrogations. Pretended that Valeria's cars were made with heavy doors because it was her personal taste, not because she needed bulletproof transportation.

These fictions were no longer tangible, no longer capable of retaining their glamour. You and Valeria would have to pay for all of it, finally. Y/N knew that one of these days her tears would fall and she would not be able to stop them.

It was all mechanical after that. The van approached a looming structure of concrete and barbed wire, of guard towers and dogs. The van was checked and allowed to enter. Y/N shrank away from the gazes of all these men. The Captain across from her, the driver, the guards, the soldiers waiting beyond. The door was opened and you were flung out, shackles and all. The Captain put his arm through yours, a precaution in case you tried to escape. It almost made you laugh. There was nowhere to run to and all these men were impossible to run from. "No papers?" A guard asked the Captain, his eyes raking over your form. You became acutely aware of your attire, the pyjamas, and how they contrasted with the uniforms of these men. Your light, thin pyjamas were built for comfort and aesthetics. And their kit, bulky and covering every inch of them, was built for battle. "No, sir. Special case. Courtesy of General Shepherd." The Captain nodded to him knowingly. It felt illegal that they would jail you without even a passport or some form of ID, but you didn't dare say anything. You weren't sure what rights you had, if you had them. The process beyond that was glaringly odd. You entered what looked like the reception of the facility. Your pockets were checked - there was nothing. You were not identified but were given an ID card and a uniform to change to.

"Am I in prison?" You asked. "No, ma'am. Temporary custody, it's like jail." You stared at the uniform in your hands, then back to the guard. "Why am I wearing this then?" He cleared his throat. "It's more modest, ma'am." "Oh," you said stupidly and changed. Thankfully, you were not searched for anything. It was nothing like the scary stories Valeria would tell you from those who were caught and imprisoned due to her operations. Of people made to kneel and cough in all their nakedness, of guards probing their bodies and leering. When you came out from the changing area, the Captain was gone, presumably because he'd handed you off to the right authorities. That's all you were to them, something to be passed off and transferred from point A to point B. Something to be processed and shelved.

The guard was waiting for you. "This way," he said and buzzed you into the facility. Greyness and coldness prevailed in this place. The labyrinthiness of it made your head spin, every hallway was the same, and every corner was like the one you'd seen before. The doors were the same, even the guards looked like the same person but multiplied. The reality of it all pressed down on you oppressingly, you held in your tears and followed the man. Your heart hammered in your chest when you heard the yells of men, muffled behind the concrete but hysterical in their intensity. The guard must've noticed the panic in your eyes. "You will be held in the private women's wing. Special case gets special privileges." He almost sounded hopeful, but you weren't sure if the final part was meant to make you feel any better about your situation. The panic did subside, however. Another gate stood in front of you and you were processed through that one, too. The women's wing, you presumed.

The women's private wing was completely empty, the cells clearly vacant by the fact that their doors were wide open. There were two floors and a guard post staring at them. No windows. Your footsteps echoed across the chamber, the silence was defeaning. "You're in here," he said and deposited you to one of the rooms. It was a small room scarcely furnished with a toilet and a metal bunk. A pillow, a thin mattress and a blanket summarised your belongings for the time being. "Do I get time in the yard or anything?" You said as you turned around but the door was slammed in your face. You jumped back. "That's not how jail works," he said and walked off. You stared through the door's window for some time, becoming self-conscious with each passing moment. Apart from the lack of freedom and the possibility of spending a lifetime incarcerated, you were troubled with the hygienic aspect of things. Can they see inside when you go to the bathroom? It was something you always wondered about when you watched crime TV and you now had a personal investment in the topic.

"Don't worry, amor. They won't peek through."

You almost fell to your knees. Your hand reached out in time to hold on to the door as you heard her voice. You didn't have time to turn around, her warm hands were already on you as she hugged you from behind. Her body emanated warmth as she pressed herself against you and you felt her frame envelop yours. Her warmth, the scent of her sweat lightly masqued by her perfume. Valeria's hands caressed your sides and travelled up and down your body, eagerly. One of her hands slithered beneath your shirt and past your bra. She cupped one of your breasts and squeezed as her face rested on your shoulder, lightly coating the side of your neck with breathy kisses. You always shivered when she did this and let out a shaky breath, carefully releasing a relieved whimper. You tried to speak but struggled to release the words coherently. Each attempt started with a pitiful vowel which was drowned by a hot kiss, it resulted in a cascade of pitiful, small sounds that were interrupted by the sound of wet lips and light moans.

Actions spoke louder than words with Valeria. There was no point in saying how much she missed you when she could show it. She squeezed your nipple sharply. You yelped as expected and she took the chance to enter your mouth with her tongue. She could feel your flustered embarrassment given your surroundings and chuckled as you tried to kiss her lightly and more quietly. She refused your demands and kissed you harder, sloppier; louder. You finally broke off, breathless. "They'll hear us," you said as she moved on to your neck without skipping a beat, kissing your jaw. "They left the post, baby," she said and moved to your ears. Valeria's tongue flickered on your lobe, knowing how ticklish her warm breath made you, how it made your whole body squirm. "Special privileges," she whispered and started nibbling on your skin.

"Baby," you pouted to her. A frenzied passion arose within Valeria. All that time she spent away from you, all that fear about your safety, the despair she felt when she thought she would never see you again; that you were hurt or tortured, that you were bullied and exploited whilst she could do nothing to protect you. All those feelings made her desperate to touch you, to feel that you really were there. To feel your soft skin and to see for herself that you were not bruised or hurt. With each caress and with each touch, she wanted to feel that you were unharmed, untouched. And with each examining touch, arousal glowed within her body, that special warm feeling intensifying between her legs. She missed you; all of you. One of her hands was blissfully busy with your breasts, moving from one to the other and eliciting many praises from your body; twitching and whimpering with all the stimulation. Unable to help herself, Valeria allowed her other hand to to caress your tummy, which she loved, and then lower to the band of your trousers, teasingly. You wiggled excitedly in her grasp, loving to see her so excited with you. "You're so crazy, baby," you mumbled and delivered kisses to her face. Her hand then went lower to your crotch, fondling that sensitive spot hungrily. You yelped in response. "What if they walk in on us, my love?" You asked her and wiggled your hips to escape her touches, fending off her wicked teasing.

"I already told you, princess," she said and continued caressing your sensitive spot with more intensity, following the rhythm of your hips. "They've all left their post." Hearing quiet noises escape from your careful control excited her even more, Valeria couldn't deny how much she loved moments where this dynamic manifested in your relationship. Her intense, playful teasing when you were not in an entirely private place. Your assertions of propriety and decency. How Valeria would persist with her argument and teasing, your eventual, blissful surrender. You remained unconvinced and so she pressed you forward with her body, making you peek out of the little window on the door. "Look for yourself, they're all gone," she said. You lifted yourself a bit higher and looked on. You surveyed the space and saw how empty it was, with no guard posted, and no cameras. You hummed to yourself as you judged the safety of the situation. You made a noise with your assent. "You're right, there's no on-", with no hesitation Valeria plunged her hand past your trousers and your underwear, her fingers reaching out to your sex. "You're happy, now?" She whispered to your ear as her middle finger found your clit and moved your wetness up and down. She felt your jaw tighten as she continued that movement agonizingly slow but with more pressure, making your hips press against her. "Use your words, princess," she whispered into your ear. "Yes, baby. I'm happy." You said quickly and breathlessly.

Valeria bit her lip and groaned quietly in your ear. "You're already so wet for me," she mumbled as her fingers moved faster. Her movements were sloppy and the contact with your skin emitted those wet noises that embarrassed you so much. She kissed your cheek and froze when she felt how wet your face was. "Baby, are you crying?" It was all too much. Everything that happened came back to you. The sudden kidnapping, the destruction of your home, the interrogation, your imprisonment and chaotic escape. You had not a moment to yourself to process anything before Valeria appeared. You loved her touch and longed for release, longed to touch her. And yet, your tears fell. "Fuck, I'm sorry." She span you around so that you were facing her. Her eyes widened with panic at the sight of tears falling steadily and silently down your face. She cupped your cheeks with her warm hands. "Too much too soon. You know how intense I am, baby." She pulled you in for a hug. You nuzzled your face in her neck and inhaled her scent, you exhaled shakily. "I missed you so much," you mumbled and held on to Valeria tightly. "I didn't understand what was happening."

Valeria cooed as she stroked your back. "I know, baby. I'm sorry." "I didn't tell them anything," you said. "I know my love, thank you." You kissed her cheek. Valeria moved backwards and sat on the bed. She pulled you close so that you were straddling her; the two of you kept hugging. It was one of the things that always made you feel better on a bad day, how Valeria would hold you like this and comfort you. How she would whisper sweet nothings in your ear as you cried or complained about whatever it was that upset you. "Did he hurt you?" You said as you lightly touched the dark circles on Valeria's neck. She tried not to wince, she knew who you were referring to. "I hurt him worse." She said and paused. "Did he hurt you?" She asked slowly, suddenly afraid of your answer. You shook your head. "No, he was just scaring me." Valeria released a relieved exhale. "You're a tough cookie, Y/N." You giggled lightly and Valeria's muscles relaxed lightly. "I knew you'd come for me," you said. "I'll always find you," Valeria said and you kissed deeply. Valeria was careful not to initiate anything given your fragile state, she only gave what you asked for. You pulled back to catch your breath and went back for a second kiss, then a third one.

You pulled back again and gazed into Valeria's dark eyes. She almost seemed drunk with her flushed cheeks and the way her eyelids hung low as if she was sleepy. But you knew better. "Is it true that you left Alejandro for me?" You asked. It wasn't the sexiest thing to say at this time, but the question burned inside you. Valeria never spoke about her romantic life before you. Even on the nights when you had a little too much to drink and felt a sudden spike of jealousy that made you ask, she never responded. You knew that if you didn't ask now, you'd be silent forever and the question would eat at you. You would gnaw on the chops of jealousy, licking your wounds for eternity. "Yes," she said in a husky, low voice. You kissed her again and moaned into her mouth; you were elated. The rumours were true! The satisfaction was so delicious and warm, you felt yourself glow from the inside like a firefly.

Valeria broke the kiss. "The day I met you...I'd never felt that way about anyone. I knew you'd be mine. You were made for me, Y/N." Her face moved close to yours, your lips almost touching. "Only for me," she whispered and your lips crashed. Your hands reached beneath Valeria's shirt and roamed across her back. You found that sensitive spot on her lower back that made her shiver and grazed that spot with your nails; she moaned. One of your hands continued roaming her back and swiftly unclipped Valeria's bra. "Did you feel like that too, Y/N? The day we met?" Valeria asked. You nodded. "It was like magic. You were so pretty..." You trailed off as Valeria removed her top along with her bra. She lowered her back so that it touched the bed and just lay underneath you, half-naked. Her nipples hardened as they were exposed to the chilly air of the cell, they looked beautiful and felt soft and warm when you touched them. "And?" Valeria whispered, enjoying how hypnotised you were by her chest. It was her favourite way of getting you quiet. "And...I was worried you wouldn't like me. You're intimidating, baby." Your voice was low as you continued touching her as you spoke.

Valeria bit her lip. "Am I intimidating now?" You shook your head with a smile. "No, you're so beautiful," you said and lowered your face close to her chest. Valeria held her breath. "I could just eat you," you mumbled and covered one of her nipples with your mouth, circling the soft bud with your tongue and lightly grazing it with your teeth. Valeria released a breathy exhale. You released her nipple and kissed the skin around it, warming up her chest with your breath and occasionally biting down hard enough to make her yelp underneath you. You circled her other nipple with your thumb. "You want to eat me?" Valeria asked so quietly that you almost didn't hear her. She sounded shy; you knew what she wanted. "More than anything," you said and trailed kisses down to her tummy.

You both fumbled with each other's clothes, you scattered everything to the ground and basked in your nakedness together. You lay on the bed and guided Valeria's hips so that she lowered her thighs around your head. It was pure, never-ending bliss. The two of you filled the room with your moans and gaps, making the metal bed squeak from the rhythm of your love. Valeria ground her sex on your mouth, one of her hands reaching down to move your mouth closer to her wetness as she sought her climax whilst the other reached back to pleasure your clit. Valeria's body glistened with her sweat, she was beautiful as she moved her body up and down, the soft parts of her body bounced ecstatically until she came and her body recoiled with pleasure. Valeria always came first, but you followed quickly after, moaning as Valeria's fingers penetrated your deepest core and sweetly hit your sensitive spot. With a muffled cry, you came on her fingers.

The two of you lay in the bed together for a long time after that, whispering in the darkness. "You should've seen the house, Y/N. It was in ruins. I thought you were gone for good...I don't know what I'd do without you." You kissed her shoulder lightly. "I'll always be with you, Valeria." She shook her head and sighed. "Fucking Alejandro. It's all his fault. I'd forgotten about him, you know. I forgot he even existed." Your mind wandered back to the moment he burst into your room. The rage in his eyes, the way he yelled as he grabbed you. "He's very scary. I can't picture the two of you together." Valeria chuckled bitterly. "It was complicated. But don't think about that now, it's time to rest." You looked at her anxiously. "What if they come in whilst we're asleep?" Valeria shook her head and tucked you in, pulling the blanket up to your chin so that you were nice and warm. "They won't, baby. Just go to bed."

You fell asleep almost instantly, the exhaustion finally caught up to you. Valeria's scent, warmth and steady heartbeat lulled you to sleep and you slept deeply knowing that you were safe in your wife's arms. Valeria stayed up and watched you for what felt like hours. She stared at your face, the way the faint glimmer of moonlight illuminated your skin and lashes. She watched your chest rise and fall. You were so trusting, so loyal. So devoted even as you hit rock bottom with Valeria, you could make the coldest jail cell glow with warmth. At that moment, Valeria really felt that she could be happy anywhere as long as you were next to her. She could sleep in the most narrow metal bed if it meant you'd be next to her. She kissed your forehead lightly before getting comfortable next to you, she did not dream of anything.

Note: Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! It's my first time writing smut but I think it worked out nicely and we finally reunited Valeria with her wife :D Although this could be read as the end, I'll write one more final part to tie up the plot because you best believe Valeria and her trophy wife ain't spending the rest of their life in prison!

Tag list: @justmare @silas-222 @m0rganit3 @blarba-girl @sleepiemain @caffeineliker @ashy-kit @00ops1e @lesvii @therapyneeds @lez-zuha @starre-eyes @7smexy7diva @hello-kitty-festival @konigmeu @cassiecasluciluce @gay-ass-country-boy @starwars-theclonewhore @bi-witch-bxtch @somnoslvt @ashthepillow @b3ns0ne  @idiotwrites @danart501 @deakyspuff @mistresssiri @angethehimbosimp @@sae1kie @00ops1e @yaebaal @p3arlier

#cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty valeria #cod imagine #valeria garza #cod valeria #valeria garza x reader #valeria x female reader #valeria x reader #valeria garza smut #call of duty smut #cod smut #mw2 smut

[pseudosis]

Baby daddy!ZUKO who’s just as nasty as you recalled him being. The unashamed debauchery, it’s some infectious disease that’s just ridden in the way he fucks. He’ll fold you up, bend you over, get that pretty mouth of yours to cough up his name in ways you never could bring your mind to wrap around.

Fighting against his aura, something that’s so wrapped up and put away to a stranger’s eye, yet still so weirdly magnetic proved to only allow room for that infection to overwhelm your sense of rationality. To put up a wall is to only prompt it to ruthlessly beat it down until it turned to a dust.

It’s the very thing that landed you up pregnant the first time, a daughter, that looks just fucking like him. You loved her as much as your heart could muster, and you loved him as well. Though that love came to a halfway point and diminished on his end as if that night wasn’t enough for his feelings to bubble up at the thought of you alone.

As a father, he’s everything a daughter could ask for. He spoils her until her teeth go all rotten, attends all of her school events to cheer her on, talks to her whenever things get down to complication. Perfect wasn’t a word good enough to cut his role as a parent.

But when he’s at the doorstep, dropping her off back to you after having a day out together, that aura comes back ghosting your thoughts once more. Putting her to bed as she had school tomorrow, you’re so caught up in being a mom, you become so aware about how much more taller he is than you for the first time in a long time.

How his scent of rather pronounced cologne just wafts and plays around in your nostrils, call it taunting if you will. How the callousness of his hands make for this erratic display of the work he puts in just about everyday to keep up with the body he personally sculpted.

“Here’s the child support money, I gave you a little extra in there in case the normal amount doesn’t cut it. If not, buy yourself something nice I guess.”

Traveling your gaze downward to meet the sight of a bulging envelope held out to you in those same hands you were just thinking on the details about, you take it. Feeling the pull of tiredness at last catching up with the weight of your eyelids, a thought hits you, recollecting the plans of driving off to the local pharmacy to pick up your migraine medication.

Surprisingly, he had the courtesy, buried away deep inside of his conscience, of offering you a drive there since you wanted to cut back on using up your own gas that helped push you off to work. His figure resting on the doorframe, almost looking down at you like he honestly didn’t want to spare his time to satisfy your needs. It irked you, that’s just apart of his personality that honestly pushes you away and reminds you to stay closed off to him.

No began on the tip of your tongue, though it ended up falling flat and lost amidst the sea of thoughts flowing mentally. Seeing the dead center of those amber eyes just fixated unmistakably upon your own caused for acceptance to finally cross your main line of thinking.

Acceptance had an odd way of taking its course, once yes rolled off your tongue for the first at the door, another wildly different kind of yes ended in you being folded upwards in the back of his car. Both of you, equally as naked as the other, the situation being his biceps curling begrudgingly into the soft flesh of your thighs while he lodged his dick back and forth to force apart those pretty lips.

Oh he’s so gross in the way he’s sliding his tongue down the opening of your ear, taking his hips and throwing them upwards to get that messy slick of yours to drip down the point of no return, down his balls and eventually falling to the car carpet. Feeling heat spread from the back of your head down to the tips of your toes as you took him abusing his way through your once closed up walls. The tip of his dick eating out the certain area in your guts that scratches an itch so satisfying, you threw your head back to scream to the top of the car.

Something in the way he just huffs and puffs out that heat through his nose and mouth that press wet spots flush on your skin. Or how he’s grinding out the scalding lust running in his body around in your pussy as a way to make you taste the high of his own unashamed passion. Cunt riding out the bouts of you squirting out some of that heat he’s implementing into you.

“‘M glad no one’s had this pussy since we split doll. You can’t bring yourself to think about any other dick huh?”

Hands snaking themselves through that head of hair of his, you brought your fingernails to dig in deep and tug firmly on any strands caught in your grasp. You felt his dick twitch in between your walls at the pleasing sting that coursed over his nerves. The biggest fuck you silently mustered. If that even counted, he seemingly liked it.

“I’ll take that as a yes...”

#wrote this WEEKS ago. #im kinda having mixed feelings about it but take it. <3 #avatar the last airbender #atla zuko #fire lord zuko #zuko smut #avatar zuko #zuko x reader #zuko fanfic #zuko imagine #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #adult zuko #{✩*ೃ.⋆𝐩𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 🎀}

[mrsarcherofinfamy]

Hi there!! I'm not sure if you are in an angst mood if not totally fine. Please do not feel obligated to do this. ❤️

You and Damian broke up. The two of you still love each other but stubborn people be stubborn. One day after a house show, you are asleep, and Finn calls you begging to come to a bar to get Damian. The archer of infamy keeps asking for you since you used to be the designated driver.

Against your better judgment, you pick D up and take him to your hotel room. The next morning, he wakes up, and the two of you start arguing (maybe about something they often fought about). In the heat of the moment, one of you admits your feelings to the other. The two of you finally calm down and start to work through their problem and get back together.

I hope you like it!! I tried my best!! 😊

●Damian Priest x Reader●

________________________________________

Laying in bed, looking at the picture of me and Damian sitting on his nightstand on his side of the bed, I start tearing up. Me and Damian broke up about two weeks ago because he thought I was cheating on him with JD. Me and JD were discussing the surprise I had planned for Damian. I lay on my side of the bed, looking down at Damian's side of the bed, and wipe my hand across the bed. I pull the blanket up to my face and shove my face into my pillow, tearing up thinking about him. I start to cry myself to sleep.

________________________________________

*about half hour later*

I am laying in bed sleeping when my phone starts ringing really loud. I gasp sitting up real fast and look over at my phone. I grab it seeing Finn's name come up. I sigh, roll my eyes and answer the phone.

"Yes? What do you want?"

"Woah... hello to you too Y/N."

"What do you want Finn? I'm trying to sleep."

"Well you are gonna have to come pick up Damian."

"No."

"Y/N. Please. He keeps asking for you since you were always the designated driver."

"Why can't you drive him?"

"I've been drinking too. But not as much as him."

"Where is Rhea? Or Dom? Or JD?"

"I don't know. Y/N. Seriously. He is only asking for you. Please. You need to come get him. I'm afraid he might fight someone soon."

"Finn. I haven't seen him in over two weeks since we broke up. I really don't wanna come get him."

"Y/N. Please. Cmon. He only wants you to pick him up. Please. Don't make me keep begging you. I'll give you gas money to come get him. Please."

I sigh and roll my eyes at him standing up.

"Fine. Just this one time. And I'll take him to his hotel room and he is staying there."

"We will see how long he stays there since his hotel room is across from yours."

"I'm not coming."

"Y/N. Please!"

"Fine. Send me the address and give me a few to get changed."

I hang up on him and toss my phone on the bed. I grab one of Damian's big sweatshirts that I took from him awhile ago and put on some leggings. I put on my sneakers and my hat on backwards. I grab my keys and my phone and head out of my room. I stop and look at the address Finn sent me. I walk down the hall, down the stairs and out to the parking lot. I get in my car, putting the address in my phone and head off to go pick him up.

_________________________________________

*at the bar*

I park outside the bar against the curb and call Finn. It rings a few times and he doesn't answer. I sigh and roll my eyes. I look over at the door and I see Damian stumbling out of the door with Finn trying to hold him up. I unlock the door and wait for them. Finn opens the door and helps Damian get in the car. I roll my eyes not looking over at them.

"Thank you Y/N!"

"Yeah yeah."

Finn closes the door and I put the car in drive pulling out of the parking lot. Damian puts his hand on the back of my neck and starts lightly scratching. I grip the steering wheel starting to feel tears swelling up in my eyes. He used to always do that when I would drive just to help me focus and be calm. We get back to the hotel and I park the car getting out. I walk over to his side, open the door and help him get out of the car. Damian slings his arm around my neck looking down at me.

"You are........really....beautiful."

I look up at him for a quick second feeling more tears starting to form than start helping him inside of the hotel. We make our way to my hotel room and I unlock the door helping him inside to the bedroom. I sit him down on the bed and go to the kitchen to grab him a water and a little snack like I would always do for him. I walk back into the bedroom seeing him taking his shoes and pants off. I sit the water and snack next to the bed and walk over to my side of the bed. I grab my pillow and blanket and walk out to the living room. I take off my leggings and my hat and put them on the little desk. I keep Damian's sweatshirt on and lay down on the couch getting comfortable covering myself up with my blanket. I lay there feeling tears start streaming down my face trying to fall asleep.

_________________________________________

*the next morning*

I am sitting on the couch watching the TV still lightly crying from last night. I hear the bed start creaking and I quickly wipe the tears off my face. Damian comes around the corner stretching in the door frame. I look over at him real quick than back at the TV. He walks over to the kitchen and opens the fridge door.

"Wait.... where did my food go?"

He looks over at me on the couch and slams the fridge door shut. He walks over to me standing over me.

"What are you doing in my hotel room?"

"Ummm... this is my hotel room."

He looks around the room than looks back at me confused.

"Why am I in your room?"

I gulp and finally look up at him.

"Well.... Finn called me last night."

"Of course he did. You trying to sleep with him too? I wouldnt doubt it since you went for his best friend."

"No.....He called me because you were asking for me to come pick you up. Because I used to be your designated driver. And he was afraid you might fight him or someone else."

"Yeah I'm sure. What did I tell you when we broke up? I told you to never talk to me again! To never help me again! And to stay away from me! What don't you understand!?"

"IM TRYING OKAY?!"

He stands there looking at me with a shocked face. I stand up infront of him looking up at him, my eyes swelling with tears again.

"Fuck my feelings! They are fucked! But one thing that I'll always be sure about is my love for you! It hurts seeing you backstage almost everyday looking all happy! I would NEVER cheat on you with your friends or anyone! I fucking love you and I can't fucking stay away from you! Okay?!"

I sit down and start crying again pulling my knees to my face. Damian sits down next to me on the couch and puts his arm around my body pulling me into him.

"Y/N."

I continue crying into my knees and he pulls me closer starting to rub my back putting his head ontop of mine.

"Shhhh."

I sniffle and look up at him. He starts wiping the tears from my face looking back at me.

"Y/N. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for accusing you of messing with my friends. I'm sorry I hurt you like this. I promise I have been faking it about being happy. I'm not happy. Ive been really depressed since we broke up. Finn, Dom and JD have been basically yelling at me for the last two weeks about how I am an idiot and you weren't cheating on me. They said you were actually setting up a surprise for me."

I look up at him some tears running down my face. He starts wiping them away.

"I was planning a surprise party for your birthday. I wanted it to be special."

"You were? Really?"

I look at him seeing his face getting really concerned and upset.

"Yes I was. But now that your birthday has passed, that ain't happening."

"I.....I.....I'm so sorry. I was and still am so scared of losing you."

I look up at him feeling my eyes being very puffy. He looks at me very upset and his eyes starting to tear up.

"I still love you with everything in my heart and soul. I really miss you."

"I miss you too."

He puts his hand under my chin, pushes my head up towards him and kisses me lightly. I lean in kissing him back. We slowly start kissing each other and I run my fingers through his hair. He pulls back looking me in the eyes. I look up at him slightly smiling.

"I love you Y/N."

"I love you too Damian."

#wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #imagines #wrestling imagine #writing #wwe x reader #wwe fluff #wwe fics #wwe fic #wwe fanfics #wwe #damian priest fanfic #damian priest x reader #wwe damian priest #damian priest imagine #damian priest #charley's fics

[nom-nommmm1]

Hi Oli,

I love your Lords Of Chaos stories so much, so could you write one for me? :)

I was thinking about Pelle x Fem reader, where she's Euronymous sister, and they have to keep their relationship a secret.

Xoxo and also I just saw that you write for some niche fandoms I really love, I can't wait for more stories to come

DIRTY LITTLE SECRET - PELLE/DEAD

Masterlist + taglist

AHHH HI ANON!! I’m so happy you like my stories! You’ll never know how much it means to me 🫶 also I’ve had ‘dirty little secret’ by The All-American Rejects stuck in my head FOR A WEEK truly amazing timing anon. But anyways, I look forward to see you request other fandoms soon. Also I didn’t know if you wanted to make this a smut or fluff so I’m gonna do fluff bc I’ve been in such a fluffy mood lol, request another if you’d like smut and I’ll gladly do it ❤️

Content warning !!: sweet!pelle x fem!reader, fluff?? There’s a suggestive part butt they don’t actually do it, kissing, hair pulling

The doorbell rings as the tussling of keys can be heard from Euronymous’ hands. “I got it!” I shout, opening the door to see Pelle standing there awkwardly. “Hey Pelle! You’re just in time, we’re all about to head to the movies” I say looking at the blonde haired boy, his cheeks turning a slight pink tone. “Oh yea uhm..Euro texted me” he says avoiding my gaze. He shuffles away from the doorway, letting Euronymous and I out. We all proceed to get into Euros car. “So are Faust and the guys meeting us there?” Pelle asks after a few minutes of nothing but the sound of the radio.

“Yeah, they’re just gonna be a minute since traffic’s pretty bad on their side” Euronymous says, putting his foot to the gas as the light turns green. Pelle nods, staring out the window, looking around at all the passing cars. I look at Pelle, he looks..tired? “You alright?” I ask. The blonde looks at me, seeming somewhat surprised by me breaking the silence. “Yea I’m fine y/n” he says looking back out the window to avoid the conversation.

The car pulls into the movie theater parking lot, we all get out walking up to the register. “Hello, what movie are we seeing today folks?” The cashier asks politely. “Three tickets for the conjuring” Euronymous says, placing the money on the counter. “Of course, the concessions are inside” the cashier says handing us our tickets. Euronymous nods in acknowledgment, holding the door open for Pelle and I.

Walking up to the concessions counter Euro turns to us. “What do you guys want?” He asks pulling out a 20 dollar bill. “Popcorn and a slurpy?” I ask. “Sure sis, what about you Pelle?” He asks turning to the blonde. “Oh- I’m fine with whatever,” he says quickly, almost taken out of a trance. “Alright, you guys can sit down while I pay for this stuff” Euronymous says, pointing to the tables next to the bathrooms.

I nod walking over to the table, Pelle following close behind. We sit down. I look at Pelle, taking in his features as he refuses to look at me. “What’s wrong?” I ask putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Nothing y/n” he says moving out of my touch. Euronymous comes back with a handful of snacks. “Come help me get the rest guys” we all grab our own snacks and drinks. “Sorry you guys are going to have to share popcorn, I was two bucks short to get another” Euro said as we walked down to our designated auditorium. “It’s fine Euro” I say as we take our seats.

The theaters lights dim as music from the projector plays, the movie is finally starting after what feels like an hour of previews. I go to reach for the bag of popcorn accidentally putting my hand on Pelles, immediately pulling away. “Sorry” I say quickly before turning back to the movie. The movie continues on, the main character jumping out into the frame of the projector screen.

The audience chuckles as they say a joke as a criminal swings at them. I take a sip of my slurpy taking a brief glance at Pelle. I look away as I see his eyes look over to me. I lean to Euronymous, whispering in his ear. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, I’ll be back” he nods as I get up from my seat, walking down the dimly lit movie theater stairs.

I walk into the bathroom, splashing water in my face, starting to sob into my hands. After a few minutes I hear slight knocking on the bathroom wall, a figure slowly coming into my line of vision. The figure comes closer to me, rubbing my back. “I’m sorry we have to do this” the figure says. “What..?” I ask looking up, at first confused but soon my confusion is clarified as I see Pelle, still there rubbing my back.

Pelle frowns, wiping my tears away. “I can’t stand to see you cry, but you know why we have to keep this a secret, right?” He asks coming closer to me. I nod looking into Pelles warm brown eyes. “I know, Euro won’t allow it” I reply sniffling. Pelles frown grows and he wraps his arms around me, putting his head in my neck giving me a small kiss.

“Just wait a little longer, we can convince him” Pelle says brushing my hair out of my face. I nod again looking at him glumly. “Hey it’s okay, I promise” he says smiling, waiting for me to smile back but I don’t. Pelle then puts me into a kiss, my eyes widen in shock but I kiss him back passionately. I wrap my arms around Pelles neck. Pelle kisses me harder, putting his hands on my waist, picking me up. “Pelle!” I yelp feeling his hands on my ass, lifting me up.

Pelle places me on the bathroom counter, pushing me against the mirror as his lips attack mine. “I missed this” he mumbles into my lips, coating them with our saliva. I giggle pulling onto Pelles hair. He moans in my mouth, biting my lip and touching up on my body. He’s about to undo his pants before we hear a voice of a staff member. “Get out of there before I call your mamas!!” The staff member screams banging her mop on the floor. Pelle and I bolt out of the bathroom making out to our movie auditorium. “Remember, keep this between us” Pelle says before opening the door for me.

“Of course” I say walking in. “Alright, I’m gonna wait out here for a few minutes so they don’t think anything” he says giving me a quick kiss before shutting the door, smiling.

SORRY FOR THE DELAY BBS IVE BEEN SUPER BUSY N THERES BEEN A BUNCH OF DRAMA W MY FRIENDS BUT IMMA TRY TO UPLOAD

Alt acc: @nom-nommmmworkspace

Taglist

╰┈➤@mxqlss @roseroseluvrr @bkaulitzz @adellaonly @m3tal-chick

#fluff #lords of chaos #nom nommmm1 #euronymous #jack kilmer #rory culkin #pelle ohlin fluff #pelle ohlin x reader #pelle x reader #pelle ohlin #pelle #lords of chaos x reader

[pappydaddy]

when i'm eighty (j.m.)

tv show/movie: outer banks | pairing: jj maybank x fem!pogue!reader

requested by a lovely anon as part of my 800 follower celebration

synopsis: y/n is exhausted and jj neglected the bike's gas tank. who knew it would lead to such a proclamation.

taglist: @luvhann | @thelakespoets  | @lonely-simp | @smarie7543 | @tenaciousperfectionunknown | @k-k0129 | @maybankslover | @taurusvic | @moralina | @verystarfishflower | @4dr1ana | @adr1an4 | @instabull | @poppet05 | @rottenstyx | @boxofsilentwords | @popeheywardssecretgf | @lexi-2004 | @i-always-come-back-xoxo | @rootbeerfaygo | @444lyra *line through your user means i could not tag you lovelies!

warnings: tears (exhausted) | karen situation mentioned | the lovely realities of a retail job

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- not my gif -

Sure, Pogue life was fun and relatively carefree, and Y/N wouldn’t trade her life for anything, but it did have its downfalls. Like when you see something you really like and you pick up extra shifts and work your ass off for it, but a Kook just has to ask their parents for it and boom - they have one they barely use or care for. Or when you accidentally spend too much money grocery shopping so now you have to pinch your pennies until next pay in two weeks. Or, like for Y/N right now, you have to work all day, every day because your crappy minimum wage job is severely understaffed and, even though they treat you horribly, you offer to pick up more shifts. 

  Y/N, right now, wasn’t too pleased with her status as a Pogue. Not when she is standing here, bored out of her mind and swaying on her feet as the middle aged Kook rambled on and on about something. Y/N wasn’t too sure what she was complaining about, truthfully, she stopped listening after the woman called her an incompetent child - which was the very first thing that came out of her pink smeared lips. 

  All she could actually focus on was how heavy her eyelids were, or how much she wanted to cut her feet off or just rip them right from her body. Or the dull ache that nestled itself right in the dip of her spine. Or how much she wishes she could just smash her kneecaps because, at this point, they were so tired and sore they were basically numb. It had been five days straight of her leaving school the second it was over and having her boyfriend, JJ, drive her to her work (a small hardware store), and then working to close. 

  She was exhausted, but she was falling behind on her road to buying a reliable car. Not the heap of rusted metal that has been sitting in her driveway for the past few months - completely broken. Luckily, because the owners did not want the possibility of being sued, they refused to let her work this weekend. That meant, once this woman was done with her tantrum, Y/N could get out of there and sleep for the foreseeable future. Well, at least until JJ had to get up for his shift delivering groceries tomorrow afternoon. She just hoped today wasn’t the one day JJ was late to pick her up. 

  “Mark my words, because you all know nothing, I will never come back here,” The lady slammed her hand against the counter Y/N stood at, the newly hired cashier shaking slightly behind her. “And I will be in contact with your manager and owner for reimbursement for any bills that come from this.” She sneered, gesturing to the empty bottle of antifreeze that was specifically made for diesel engines. That she put in her Land Rover. 

  “You have a nice night, the owner and manager will both be in after nine tomorrow morning.” Y/N drawled like a robot, ignoring the huff and snarky comment the woman made towards her for her lack of respect. There was no way in hell Y/N was apologising to her when Y/N and the manager were the ones who told the woman and her husband not to get that antifreeze, but her husband just wouldn’t listen. 

  “And I am telling them about your horrible behaviour towards me-” 

  “Ma’am,” Their night manager appeared from one of the aisles, looking annoyed. The clock had ticked by to read five minutes after close, meaning this woman was standing there ranting for over ten minutes. “We closed five minutes ago, if you have an issue, you can call and discuss this with our head manager and the owner tomorrow, but now you need to leave unless you want to front the money to pay us the overtime you are causing us because we won’t get paid.” He told her, pointing her towards the exit.

  She scoffed. “Of course I won’t pay you people to be incompetent at your jobs. I mean, how hard is it to sell people items? If anything, I should be getting money for you people for the damages you caused to my expensive Land Rover-”

  “Again, ma’am, you will have to bring that up with the people with more power than me,” The manager looked completely exhausted and annoyed with this woman. He grabbed the empty bottle from where she left it. “Now, you can either leave on your own or I will be contacting the authorities and they will remove you from the premises and you will be banned.” 

  He held out the empty bottle just before she snatched it, her nose turned up as she scoffed, turning on her heel and leaving out the door. “Okay, you two go, I will lock everything up.” He waved them off. Smiling thankfully, Y/N grabbed her thin sweater (which was JJ’s) and her empty plastic bottle of water, tossing it in the recycling bin.

  “Thank you, Gerry. Have fun tomorrow.” She waved bye to him as the new cashier trailed quietly behind her. Pulling the hoodie over her head, she left through the same door the woman had, seeing her fancy silver audi sitting in the parking lot. From inside, she could see her phone pressed to her ear as she yelled. 

  “Hey, sweets,” JJ greeted her, pushing off from the wall he leaned on. Y/N smiled, saying a quick ‘see you’ to the quiet girl as she bounded over towards her mother’s car. Her feet not moving, she held her arms open for JJ, signalling she wanted a hug. JJ complied, striding the short distance to her and wrapping his arms around her waist. Naturally, her arms rested on his shoulders, enjoying the relief and comfort his hug brought her. It was like every ache in her body left and the weight that was crushing her lifted. “Long night?” He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

  She hummed. “Long week.” She corrected him, snuggling into his chest. He laughed lightly, not wanting to jostle her as she clung to him. 

  “As much as I would love to stay here hugging, we should really get you some food then to bed.” JJ started to pull away. Whining, she released him, the growling and uncomfortable feeling in her stomach too persistent to ignore, but her face remained planted into his chest. 

  “Carry me to the bike?” Her voice was muffled as she spoke. 

  “Sorry, sweets, the bike needs gas and I don’t get paid until next week.” He informed her, hands on her shoulders and pulling her face from his chest, just enough for him to see her face. Instantly, he was met by a pout and a whine from her. 

  She blinked at him, puppy dog eyes in full effect. “But I’m too tired to walk, JJ.” She told him. And looking at her, he could see she was. The eye Bags under her eyes were so deep that the concealer couldn’t even hide them. Her shoulder drooped so much it looked like she was lugging a bookbag that weighed fifty tons on them. And, not to mention, the way her eyes blinked lazily, looking a second away from closing in slumber. 

  Aside from her appearance, he could tell over the past few days she was completely exhausted. The way she kept falling asleep on his shoulder at lunch or as they skipped their respective classes in favour of cuddles. She only skipped classes when she wasn’t sleeping properly or she was bored. The way she was extra clingy (like right now). Or how she nearly face-planted into her breakfast this morning. “I know, Sweets. But the bike didn’t even have enough gas to drive here.” 

  Sighing, tears welled in her eyes. A mixture of exhaustion and stress filled her, creating tears. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you to waste all that gas driving me here and back home.” She weeped, sniffling as she blinked frantically. 

  JJ, nearly shitting himself at the sight of tears, jumped out of his skin in fright. “No, no, Sweets. Don’t cry,” He shushed, wrapping her up in his arms so tight her eyes could pop out of their sockets (not really because he would never hurt her). She sniffled into his sweater, tears hitting his sweater. “I didn’t waste gas driving you. I can never waste anything when it comes to you. I let the tank get that low, it’s my fault. I thought I had enough but John B hit a pothole the other day and I needed to go help him change the tire, that’s where the gas went. It’s all John B's fault for being on the mainland and driving like an idiot.” He rocked them from side to side until the tears slowed and the sniffles seemed to quiet down.

  “John B made you drive all the way to the mainland to help him change the tire?” She asked, pulling her face from his chest, but his arms didn’t let go over her, keeping her pressed to him. Her eyes were watery and puffy, a red tinge to the whites of her eyes. Her face was puffy and blotchy, trails of dried tears running down her cheeks. 

  JJ nodded, moving his arms to grip her face, thumbs lightly rubbing the tear streaks. “Yeah. And the idiot also decided to take everything except the jack out of the van so we had to go get a lug nut wrench which ate up more gas.” 

  “He never learns his lesson, does he?” She laughed. It was wet, her mouth thick from the tears still. 

  “No, he doesn’t,” He whispered, his voice low as he stared at her. “Now, let’s get you home before you fall asleep standing here,” He stepped back, putting distance between them. She watched with furrowed brows as he turned his back to her, crouching down, practically kneeling on the sidewalk in front of the store. “Hop up.” He told her, arms to his side, stuck towards her slightly, waiting for her to climb onto his back. 

  “JJ,” She exclaimed. “You’re not going to be able to carry me all the way to John B’s!” 

  “Yeah I can. I’m eighteen, not eighty,” He told her, pointing to his back. Sighing, she knew he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. On top of that, he would find another way to carry her. Her hands gripped his shoulders as she hopped onto his back. His hands instantly gripped the bottom of her thighs, securing her there and he stood up to his full height. She let out a small squeal at the sudden change in height, kicking her feet slightly at the feeling of them not being on the ground. It always took her a second to get used to being held on his back. “And even when I’m eighty, I am sure as hell gonna still give you piggy back rides.” 

  “Sure, we’ll revisit that when you are hunched over because you gave me so many piggy back rides now.” She laughed, her arms lazily moving to rest closer to his neck, her chin resting on her bicep as he started to walk towards John B’s. 

  “Why do you think I am in such great shape? I am training to carry you around my whole life.” 

  “If that’s the case, might want to lay off the weed and the booze.” She poked him in the pectoral teasingly. He squeezed her thigh playfully back, laughing as she pressed a kiss to his cheek the best she could before resting her head back on her arm, letting the pattern of JJ’s gate relax her, her eyes growing heavier by the second. She really did hope that when they were eighty, they didn’t lose any of their playfulness - no matter if JJ could carry her or not.

#jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x pogue!reader #pappydaddy writes #pappydaddy's 800 follower celebration #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank drabble #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fics #jj maybank headcanons #jj maybank masterlist #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank obx #jj maybank outer banks #outer banks fic #jj outer banks #outer banks fics #outer banks masterlist #outer banks netflix #outer banks #obx3 #obx fic #obx

[frostedpuffs]

RECAP OF MY DAY:

got a flat tire on the way to work

i have a spare!

i do not know how to change a tire.

youtube it!

i do not have a car jack.

i just bought these damn tires 2 days ago

angry.

call boss and say i got a flat. boss asks "when can you come in"

i don't fucking know

boss angry.

cry

at least it happened close to a dunkin. i got iced coffee.

my tummy hurts.

call my insurance. apparently i do not have roadside assistance. i could also not add roadside assistance to my account today because it is a sunday and my agent's office is closed. will have to pay out of pocket for any help

how much is help? $95 to have someone come out to put my spare on

no thank you.

call family members. all busy

call friends. all busy

all of my coworkers are at work because it is a sunday, which is full staff day

finally call mom. mom is very angry about being woken up but begrudgingly comes to meet me anyway. she tries to get her insurance company to help

no help

mom decides to call the POLICE STATION???? HUH????????

for some reason they send a cop out. he cannot get the flat tire off since it is screwed on so tight.

begrudgingly i pay for the $95 tire assistance

RANDOM KIND STRANGER OFFERS TO GO HOME AND GET HIS CAR JACK AND POWER TOOLS!

cancel the roadside assistance! get my money back!

stranger puts the spare tire on!

the spare tire is almost flat.

i leave, turn my hazards on, and make it to the nearest gas station to put air in the spare

out of order.

cry

make it to the next gas station

get air in tire

the spare tire has a hole and doesn't hold air

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

call my insurance to see how much they charge to tow

$150

no thank you

the mechanic i got my tires from is a mile away. i have a warranty on the tires

I DRIVE WITH A FLAT TIRE TO THE MECHANIC BECAUSE I HAVE NO OTHER OPTIONS

get a different tire. everything is fine

get to work

everything at work goes wrong. it is so busy. a client yells at me a lot

find out a coworker I've been nothing but nice to has been talking mad shit about me and spreading rumors about things that are untrue

angry.

get out of work late

decide to order myself pizza and a salad to make up for the shit day

get home and realize they got my order wrong

#text post #this is less of a vent post and more of a 'it is actually kind of hilarious how much went wrong today' sort of thing #IM FINE BTW

[seat-safety-switch]

In college, I lived in a village that had a castle. It wasn't a real one, or at least not one that was ever used for castle duties: it was some rich dude's creation to dupe tourists into looking at his weird house. Europeans are probably rolling their eyes right now at the idea that any town can have only one castle.

Like horses, some people are real "castle people." You know the exact kind of person I'm talking about. Chances are you know them. Maybe an in-law has way too many pictures of them walking around a similar tourist trap. Every spring, we'd see a whole crowd of these folks. Sometimes they'd take a whole tour bus up the crooked, narrow street leading to the castle. It'd pull up at the corner, blocking my short route to the nice coffee shop, and disgorge a ton of photo-snapping outsiders to incorrect each other about what kind of stone the walls were made out of (fibreglass.)

In winter, it was blissfully silent. Tourists stayed home, and the folks running the tours fell back on collecting employment insurance and shovelling walks. I have to admit that it was also kind of pretty seeing the snow settle on the parapets and outbuildings. When it was like that, it was easy to focus on my studies. I could get as many as fifteen minutes of reading done, which is about as much as I could venture before I was out on the lawn slinging wrenches at a distended Mopar cooling system. College and I didn't really get along.

One summer, I figured I'd make a little bit of extra spending money by running my own tours. I lived nearby, after all, and it wasn't like there was some law forcing me to be a licensed-and-bonded tour guide. All I had to do was put on a stupid hat, roll up to the castle grounds, and ask for fifty bucks for a tour. If I got one or two gullible couples to bite, then I'd have gas money for the month. Did I know anything about castles? No, but I had watched Monty Python movies a lot, and that had to count for something.

All this went great, and I thought about quitting college to pursue the part-time tour guide, part-time unemployed lifestyle. Just as my star was rising, though, it was knocked out of the sky by the other castle bums. They wanted me to pay up protection money, or I'd soon find myself with some unspecified future trouble if I continued to horn in on their racket.

No need, gents, I explained. In fact, my tour doesn't compete with yours at all. It has an innovative, alternative view on history. That's when I led them downstairs to share with them an exciting and profitable new part of the castle. You see, I had gotten locked out of my car many times in the last few years, and had no money for a locksmith. When this happens, you have two options: stop locking your keys in the car, or learn how to pick locks. The greasy would-be tour operators I left behind in the castle's dungeon (that old rich dude was a real freak) can attest to my skills in this department.

[andthebeanstalk]

the average person doesn't expect you to be a perfect ethical consumer, that's not possible for the vast majority of us. but what youre saying is it's better to do nothing at all and choose the worst possible options (sweat shops, overseas shipping waste, idea/product theft, all wrapped up in SHEIN) than to put even the tiniest effort in where you can.

[they are referring to this post]

What I said was "some people are doing literally everything they can to survive and have no extra bandwidth to spend extra time and money on their purchases, and it is cruel and therefore un-punk to gatekeep punkness and add additional shame to these people's lives based on that fact."

I think it's still a good thing to try to ethically consume; I literally never said it wasn't. I had never even heard of SHEIN before. Rather, I am much more concerned about what I saw as arbitrary gatekeeping based on ability and income.

And frankly how dare you claim that I am supporting sweatshops and abuse by saying that this additional work you are demanding (in this case, presumably, vetting every clothing company you buy from) is not always possible for people. It is not a light accusation to accuse me of supporting abuse.

"How dare you say we piss on the poor", Etc. 🙄 this isn't Twitter. You are determined to enforce moral purity, but you are failing to see the nuance.

Because when I say "no extra bandwidth," I mean no extra bandwidth. This is not the "car shows it's on E but actually secretly it has a lot of gas left" situation that abled people constantly assume disabled people mean when they say they are at their limit.

This is "the car has stopped moving, and to move it I'd have to break my body pushing it." This is "at a certain point, people will hit a wall in terms of money and time and energy, and any energy spent after that comes directly out of their life force."

So the argument "okay but just spend a little more time money and energy actually" is not a valid one.

And the argument "if you are not able to do this specific task, then it means you're not doing anything else to make the world a better place" doesn't exactly impress me either. You said yourself that it is impossible to be a perfectly ethical consumer for most people.

How do you know what else people are doing to resist oppression? How many hours per week until your standards are met?What if someone works 3 jobs? Does that mean it's harder to be a good person if you're poor?? Why do you get to decide what specific avenue of bettering the world is the most morally repugnant or acceptable? What kind of proof of goodness and effort would make you satisfied enough to lay off on the shame?? Who are you helping??

Clothing is a fundamental human need, and some of us have to buy cheap fucking clothes quickly. Billionaires are buying their seventh yacht this month. The people who own fast fashion companies are abusing their workers and putting local affordable clothing stores out of business - and this applies for basically every company with price points that low because governments are failing to regulate corporations to enforce basic human rights.

I have $300 to spend on a new wardrobe as my old clothes have fallen apart or become too small. Do you have a way for me to get a new winter coat, 3 flannels, 10 shirts, 3 dress shirts, new sandals, 10 pairs of pants, 5 bras, 12 pairs of socks, and 10 pairs of underwear within that budget and also definitely 100% ethically sourced, with free returns in case it doesn't fit? Or will I simply have to use the cheap stores?

I have about an hour to spend on this per week. Many mainstream stores doesn't make clothes in my size, and I am now in *year 5* of needing an electric wheelchair and being unable to get one; plus I live up a flight of stairs, so I can't even bring my walker out with me - so thrift shopping is not gonna cover this. Should I continue to wear small and tattered clothing until I have the time, money, and energy to meet your standards?

Did you know there are more empty homes in this country than homeless people? If I decide to splurge on only 100% ethically-produced products, and I can't make rent, and I become homeless, are YOU going to be there for me?? Or are you too busy litigating the endless tiny shames of poverty in your own community?

So I ask you again, are you SURE this is where you want to direct your punk energy?

Because there are a whole lot of rich people relying on people like us punching down and to the side instead of looking up to see where the money is going.

Because energy and time, as it turns out, are limited resources. And I would never expect you to secretly have more than you claim to have.

#original #punk #hopepunk #cripplepunk #i swear to god #reading comprehension website #how dare you say we piss on the poor #jfc 'what you're saying is we should do nothing' - what I'm saying is YOU are doing nothing by enforcing this boundary #you have to give people more credit than this. i believe you want a better world too. and it would be cool if you used your energy to #instead ask 'how do i fight for the people in my community to be clothed and have the time and income to shop ethically?' #or 'how do i support activism that pushes for regulation that could control these companies?' #monitoring how poor people spend money is a supremely Republican thing to do. as is demanding clear moral purity from every scenario. #you want a better world too. you want to demand your peers do better. - fine. good. #but you need to be asking if you have remembered and included everyone's needs when making statements like this. #capitalism is all for forgetting about poor and disabled people and refusing to believe their limits. #shame is a necessary weapon in fighting greed but it IS a weapon. be so careful where you point that shit. enough shame can kill a person #and a lot of us are already defending from it from all sides. #shaming a person who is already at their limit for not doing more is an act of cruelty. think very carefully about what that means please. #i literally don't even know what SHEIN is lol i just know classism when i see it #but I've had friends whose clothes were visibly falling apart with no income and so much so shame so deep in their hearts they were dying #and if they had seen that post it would have made them even sicker and gotten them no closer to the dignity of being properly clothed #shame is a weapon and /you need to be careful!!!!/

[gaywalker80085]

Flat

Natasha x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Strap-on (r giving), thigh riding, oral (r giving), top reader

A/N: I can't tell if this is good it's way harder to judge when it's from my own brain. If it's asked of me I would be willing to write another part. Halfway proof read. Also request are extremely open.

Masterlist

Part 2 Side part (will also be at the bottom)

"Oh fucking fantastic!" Natasha exclaimed as she realized her tire had gone flat. She's already been having a stressful day at work and now this. The icing on the cake, she doesn't know how to change a flat.

She pulls over to the shoulder of the road and thumps her head on the steering wheel opting to just sit like that for a minute. She sits in her own silence until she hears a rumbling.

She looks and there's someone on a motorcycle pulling up behind her. "This is it, this is how I get murdered." She tries to joke despite actually being nervous. The person starts walking up to her car. They're in the stereotypical biker attire. The leather jacket the white shirt boots and jeans.

When they get to her window Natasha is getting worried. The knock gently 3 times with the knuckle of their pointer finger. Natasha rolls down the window just an inch. She puts on a small smile "Hello." Is all she manages to get out. Damn if I get murdered at least they're hot

You notice how hot she is but also her nerves and immediately try to think of a way to be less intimidating. You decide to take your helmet off. Natasha loses all brain power when you do that. "Hello miss, I was just wondering if you needed some help." You say.

Natasha knows if you're going to kill her you will if she says yes or no but there is a chance you can actually change her tire. "Um yeah if you don't mind I think one of my tires are flat." You give a smile at her willingness to let you help.

You go and start looking to see which tire it is to find it was the back drivers side. You go to your bike where you luckily had some emergency tools and got her spare out of her trunk. You take off your leather jacket and drape it over your bike.

You told her she could sit in the car or on your bike if she wanted to but she wanted to stand and watch. As you start raising the car with the jack her eyes are drawn to your arm flexing every time you pump it. You notice her staring which made you a little hopeful but decide not to say anything about it.

"So what's your name?" You ask her. "Why?" She snips back. You can see in her face she didn't mean to be like that but decide to just carry on silently. After a minute of silence she speaks up meekly "Natasha." You look over at her and it's probably the first time you've made eye contact. "Well Natasha, I'm Y/N." You reach your hand out and she shakes it softly, her cheeks and neck flushing red as she looks away to try and hide it.

You return to changing her tire making sure everything is snug. When you finish you stand up looking at your handiwork. You turn to tell her she's good to go and there's a 20 in your face. "Here, thank you." "Miss I'm not taking your money it was no trouble really." You tell her. "You have to take it and plus I would've payed much more if you hadn't helped." She puts on a pout "Please take it." You roll your eyes and swipe it from her.

"Fine but I'm not happy about it." She smiles at that and walks back to the driver's seat. You can't tell if her hips normally sway like that. With that you both pull off you speeding past her.

Ever since your interaction you can't stop thinking about her. Walking through a gas station you're broken out of your thoughts by a little kid pleading with her mother. "Please Mommy I swear I'll be good. I'll brush my teeth twice." You round the corner and see a cute redheaded girl begging for some candy. "I don't have the money on me right now I left my card at home but next time yes." You look up at that voice and see Natasha. Looking a bit stressed.

You walk up and crouch down to the girl. "Pick out whatever you want I'll buy it for you." You tell her. "Really?!" She asks excitedly. "Yeah but not too much candy or your mom might kill me." You put your fist out and she fist bumps you quickly looking at her mom for approval before running away.

You stand back up and turn around to face Natasha. "Hello Ma'am." "You didn't have to do that I have money I just forgot it." She tells you trying to look annoyed but failing. "It's really no problem I actually just ran into $20 so it wouldn't really put a dent in my wallet." She gasps at that pushing your shoulder "You can't do that you're supposed to spend that on yourself."

"It entertains me that she is so excited, so in a way I am spending it on myself." She rolls her eyes at you "Oh whatever." The little girl comes running back with chips and candy dropping things everywhere. You go behind her and pick up the trail she leaves.

You're about to pay when you feel a tug on your pants. You look down at her "Can I have a slushy too please? I couldn't reach." "Yeah come on." She grabs your hand while you walk to the slushy machine. You get her a cup and lift her up so she can point you what she wants. You fill it up for her and she squeals excitedly when you hand her the drink.

After you pay you carry the bags to their car animatedly talking to Natasha. After she gets her daughter buckled in and gets in the driver's seat you're leaning in the window still talking to her. She runs her finger along your arm and you think your clothes might be on fire. "I was wondering, do you want to go out sometime." She asks you chewing her lip.

You pull her lip from between her teeth with your thumb. "Yeah, where do you want to go." "We can go to dinner or a bar." You look at the girl in the back seat. "Alana will be at her dad's next week, we can go then." You look back at her "Okay I'm game." You give her your phone to put her number in and you text her your name. She kisses your cheek and waves you off.

You guys make plans to go out Friday night to the bar by her house. Friday comes faster than you expected. She told you to dress nice but not dress clothes. You wear jeans, a white shirt, a flannel, a chain and air forces. You get in your car to go pick her up and decide to pick her up flowers on your way there.

Once you get to her house you knock and she opens the door pretty much immediately. She's wearing a black dress and black heels. "Hi." You breathe out dumbly. She smiles noticing her effect on you. "Hey." She steps to the side for you to walk in.

Her house is nice it's a single home that's not small but also not huge. You hand her the flowers and she says thank you walking to her kitchen to put them in a vase. On the way there she sways her hips and you're so mesmerized you almost run into her when she stops.

After putting the flowers in a vase she walks up to you and pulls your chin down so you look her in the eyes. "Are you ready to go?" She asks lowly. You just nod and she walks around you and starts heading for the door. "Come on then."

You let her control the music in the car. You guys get there and have enjoyed a few drinks when Natasha stands up. You watch her expecting her to go to the bathroom or something but instead she comes and grabs your hand. "Come dance with me." And you look at her in astonishment. "Dance?! I didn't know there'd be dancing I don't know how to dance!" You exclaim and she giggles at you pulling your hand again.

"Come on it will be fun I'll show you. Plleeaaassseee." She's really pulling on you now even though you're not moving you respect her efforts. You suck it up "Fine but I will complain." She laughs and claps in celebration.

She pulls you by the hand through the sea of people until she finds a place she likes. She grabs your hands and pushes and pulls you so you twist to the beat of the music. "God you are really such a mom aren't you." You exclaim and she laughs.

Eventually she gets you to loosen up a little but and you're jumping around to the music with her. She stops dancing so you stop and just look at her. She smiles as she looks you in the eyes and slowly walks till she is right infront of you. Then she grabs you by the back of the neck so you grab her waist. She moves so her body is flush against yours and ghost her lips across yours. You chase her lips and she smiles at that and crashes her lips against yours. The kiss is a desperate one but a short time after it started it ends. You grunt in displeasure and she smiles at you grabbing your chin "I don't think you want to rip my clothes off right here right now do you." She asks. "I would." Is all you say and you start kissing her again she groans at your words and luckily no one can hear over the music.

She grabs you by the hand quickly getting your card back from the bartender and yall walk to the car. You drive back to her house with her hand on the stick shift under yours. The second y'all get there you basically teleport to open her door for her. You follow close behind on the way up to the porch.

Once she has it unlocked she pulls you in for a kiss as she opens the door and on your way in you pick her up. She squeals and smiles into the kiss and you smile too. When you get in you close the door behind you then pinning her against it, you roll your hips into hers. She moans into your mouth and starts trying to grind down onto you in chase of friction.

When air is needed you move to kiss her neck. You nip at her sensitive spots then soothe them with your tongue. Eventually the friction she was getting isn't enough so she grinds down harder. You decide to be nice and roll your hips up into hers again.

She feels a bulge this time and moans right in your ear. "Y-you're packing?" She asks and you pull back to look into her lust blown eyes and nod. She grips the hair on the back of your head and smashes your lips together. You pull away and she whines so you give her a quick peck "Is that okay with you princess." She bites her lip looking up at you through her eyelashes and nodding.

This time when you kiss you swipe your tongue across her bottom lip asking to enter which she quickly allows. She socks your tongue into her mouth and pulls away. "Bed." You're about to abide when your realize you don't know where tf her bedroom is. "I would love to take you there baby but I don't know where your bed is." She grumbles at you dragging you by the hand quickly through her house.

When you get to her room you don't even have time to look at it before she shoves you down onto the bed. She wastes no time on straddling your legs and meeting your lips with hers. She picks back up with rolling her hips onto yours but it's still not enough friction.

You take notice to her frustration and lift her off of you and she whines in displeasure. You shush her as you place her down to straddle just one of your legs. She still doesn't realize what you're doing and is getting more frustrated until you push her down by her hips onto your flexed thigh. You help her grind back and forth until she begins to do it on her own.

She grinds with fervor chasing her release. She can't maintain the kiss so you take a minute to look at her. You are completely mesmerized by the woman above you. The way her eyebrows were scrunched together and her mouth hung open with soft pants coming out of it. She felt her coil tightening and you could tell with the way her movements started to faulter

You gripped her hips again and roughly pushed her down assisting her. She moaned loudly and buried her face into your neck. "Please, can I come please?" She begged. "I wasn't going to stop you but I'm not complaining." She let out a breathy 'shut up' before she let out a guttural moan pushing her face harder into your shoulder.

You brought your hand up and ran it through her hair massaging her scalp and she let out a hum of contentment. After taking a minute to regain herself she brought her head up and started kissing you again. She moved so she was straddling both of your legs again before tearing your shirt off.

After she threw your shirt to God knows where you flipped both of you over. She let out a small gasp at your sudden movement and you laughed a little bit. You unzipped her dress and kissed your way back up her body. She held your face in her hands and kissed you gently and she whispered "Why aren't you fucking me yet?"

You gripped her throat and kissed her. You ripped her underwear off wasting no time in kissing back down her body and laying face to face with her heat. She gripped your head and pulled your face into her. You immediately licked up her slit groaning at the taste of her. You found her sensitive bud and slowly flicked your tongue over it not giving her enough to reach the edge.

"Faster." She grunted in frustration. You kept your same pace anyway and she tried to move your head faster but you resisted. After seeing you weren't going to cooperate she pulled away and you looked up in confusion. She grabbed your jaw and gently kissed you pulling you up. She then grabbed you by the throat and flipped you onto your back.

She bit your lip and tugged on it while you chased her lips. She sat up but when you tried to follow she shoved you back down. "Natasha." You said sternly when she wouldn't let you up. "Y/N" She mocked you and leaned back down in your face. "I want to come in your mouth baby why won't you let me do that?" You forgot how to breathe at that and tried to kiss her but she wouldn't let you.

She crawled up the bed until her center was hovering above your face. She just sat like that for a second until you wrapped your arms around her thighs and pulled her down onto your face. She let out a moan and gripped your hair again. This time you did what she wanted and ate her out like there was no tomorrow.

She started to tense up and she gripped the headboard. She came with a scream of your name and you lowered her onto the bed. You kissed all over her face until she was ready to kiss you back. It didn't take long for the kiss to get heated again and she reached down to unbutton your pants.

You stood up to take off your pants and your boxers and she practically flew to the foot of the bed kneeling in front of you. She grabbed the back of your neck to pull you down into a hot kiss. On of her hands went to your length and she used it to pull you forwards. She looked into your eyes while she bent down to wrap her lips around the faux cock. She maintained eye contact as she took the full length into her mouth eyes watering.

She eventually sat back up and stuck her finger through your chain pulling you forward and up the bed till she layed down. "I want this chain to dangle in my face while you fuck me until I can't think." At that you just nodded like an idiot which made her smile. She pulled you down to kiss her again and reached her hand down to pull your cock towards her entrance.

You thrusted your hips forwards slowly entering her as she easily took the whole length. She let out a long moan grabbing your shoulders so hard it felt like she'd break skin. "Move." That was all she had to say and you started with a brutal pace and force, her hips bucking trying to meet your rhythm.

You reached down to unclip her bra. The second it was off your mouth was attaching to one of the hardened peaks your hand attaching to the other. She let out a pornographic moan at all of the stimulation, her back arching her hand holding your head against her.

You could feel the hilt of the strap rubbing your clothes just the right way. For a second you worried you wouldn't last as long or longer than her but then you could feel her clenching around your piece. All she was letting out were whorish moans and desperate whimpers still desperately clawing at your back.

You start kissing and leaving marks across her breasts and chest making sure they can be covered with a shirt. Her hips started to faulter and you could feel your coil tightening. Once you knew she was really close and so were you, you said "Come with me princess." With that she let out the loudest moan of the night.

You kept a low pace riding out both of your highs. You laid your body on hers for a second before you slowly pulling out of her. She whimpered and you tried to console her "You did so good for me baby, such a good girl.".

You took off your strap and got the both of you cleaned up. You contemplated leaving not knowing if she wanted you to fully spend the night. While you were standing there weighing the outcomes you heard her sleepily speak "Why aren't you coming here."

So you're staying the night.

You get into bed beside her and lay on your back. You're laying there with your eyes closed until a hand smack you in the stomach. "Come here, cuddle me." You turn to face her and you scoot closer until her head is in your neck and you place your hand on her ass. She rested her hand on your bicep kissing the underside of your chin.

You wake up in the morning to knocking on her front door. You can hear her going down the stairs and you get up to quickly get dressed. You walk down the stairs still mostly asleep barely remembering the process of getting dressed.

You get down there just in time to see her open the door and her daughter come barreling in. Her daughter immediately runs up to you hugging your legs. "Hi." She says looking up at you. "Hi." You say softly half because you're tires half because you're trying to hear Natasha's conversion. "Look Natasha I just don't want to watch her you're her mom you should want her." Alana sits on your foot wrapping her arms and legs around you.

"Of course I want her she's my daughter but I'm just saying I haven't planned my week for this I don't have a ride to take her to school all week" You walk up and tap her shoulder she startles before looking at you putting her finger up to give her a minute. You tap her again and she whips her head back "I'll take her." You mouth and her eyes grow wide but she accepts for now.

"Fine Bruce but next time you need to give me a heads up if it's not an emergency." She says to the man. "Whatever Natasha I have plans I need to go." She closes the door and sees her daughter on your leg she gives you a hug standing there for a minute.

"I'm hungry." Is all you hear from the little girl on your leg. You look at her and back at Natasha. "Come on then you two." She says playfully rolling her eyes. You follow her to the kitchen Alana still on your leg as she giggles uncontrollably.

Natasha stares at you two for a second smiling at the scene. She really hopes you become a frequent fixture in their life.

Part 2 Side part

Taglist

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[deancasbigbang]

Title: Baby's Driver

Author: entropic_saudade

Artist: Sketcheun

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Endgame Dean/Cas, Sam/Eileen, mentioned past Sam/Jessica, past John/Mary, mentioned background Belphegor/Ardat, past Kelly/Lucifer, past Bobby/Karen, implied past Dean/Lee Webb, mentioned past Dean/others, mentioned past Cas/others, Garth/Bess, past Bobby/Crowley, Chuck/Becky, past Chuck/multiple unnamed women

Length: 140000

Warnings: Major Archive Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence Other warnings: ableism, graphic depictions of illness and injury, graphic depictions of medical treatment, childhood cancer and associated diseases, canon-typical violence, canon-typical child neglect, canon-typical childhood trauma, trauma, sexual harassment, minor character death, mentioned sexual assault, kidnapping, alcohol use, mentioned alcoholism, guns.

Tags: Alternate Universe, getaway driving, heists, music, selectively mute Dean, neurodivergent characters, mutual crushes, found family, happy ending, pop culture references.

Posting Date: October 23, 2023

Summary: Dean has been working as a getaway driver for Crowley for the last fourteen years, and has survived by developing a few simple rules: always pick the right music, keep an eye on the time, never give out his real name, and most importantly, make no personal connections with anyone on the job.  Making no personal connections with anyone new is easy when he has difficulty talking in his own words.  Enter Cas, who, in order to pay for his nephew Jack’s life-saving medical treatment, decides to break bad by joining Crowley’s operations. Unlike most of his brothers, he’s new to the world of crime, but Gabriel’s list of survival tips, and their driver’s skills and quiet demeanor have a way of reassuring him.  Throughout the course of several months, their rules fall to the wayside as they fall for each other, each unable to say the words ‘I love you’ for differing reasons.  Cas’ past family life complicates things when Lucifer comes around, wanting to know how Cas is getting the money to pay for Jack’s treatment. Everything comes to a head, and they realize just how connected their world is when Dean is kidnapped.  A Baby Driver-inspired AU.

Excerpt: With little over four minutes counted on his internal clock, a trilling alarm pierced the air as three figures ran out, each with stuffed bags in tow.  Right on time.  While the other two piled in the back, one of the masked figures frantically pounded on the passenger side window with the butt of his shotgun. “Open the door!” he yelled, voice muffled.  Dean rolled his eyes, popping the handle, showing that it was already unlocked. Dean pressed play, not waiting for him to finish closing the door behind him before tearing off.   His tires burned rubber on the pavement.  One street, two streets, three streets whizzed by as Dean narrowly avoided red lights, ignoring honks and angry yells from other drivers, racing to get onto the next access road.  “Get your motor runnin’, head out on the highway!” Dean weaved between the beats of the music and the cars around him, riding the gas a little harder to try to put as much distance between their car and the bank as he could.  The goon in the backseat and Bela, who had played fake hostage, looked behind them and swore. Dean glanced up at the rearview mirror to see that civilian cars had started to part like the Red Sea for a squealing squadron. The sirens chased them down, joining in and almost drowning out the lyrics– “Yeah, darlin’, gonna make it happen”– so Dean cranked it up in response, lowering the rear windows so that they could put their firepower to use.  Whether it was intentional or coincidence, if it was set to some kismet choreography by the Powers That Be, or if it happened because Dean had a preternatural sense about timing things like this, Bela and Backseat shot their guns in sync to “Fire all of your guns at once,” popping the tires of two of the closest police cars. The cars skidded sideways and to a halt, causing a pile-up behind them.  Dean smoothly ducked under an overpass only to be greeted by a row of road spikes being laid up ahead when he emerged. With a glance to the side, he noticed that some construction workers had graciously left behind a gift for him, and decided to take advantage. Dean made a sharp turn, avoiding the teeth of the spikes.  The tempo of the drums picked up pace as Dean picked up speed. Bela put her seatbelt on and held on tight to the grab handle above her, while the guys in the backseat and next to him started begging when they realized what he was doing. “No, no, wait–!”  “What are you–?” “We can climb so high, I never wanna die…” Dean went hard on the throttle up the construction ramp, gathering enough momentum so they could soar over a concrete divider. In the few seconds that they were up off the ground, the bags in the backseat lifted off the laps of his accomplices, suspended for a moment — “Born to be wi-ild…”

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