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fizzydrink698 · 2 years

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passenger | jennie

kinktober day 3: car sex

pairing: kim jennie x female reader

word-count: 5.2k

genre: romance, fluffy smut

warnings: swearing, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, the inherent awkward manoeuvring of car sex, some real fuzzy emotions

summary:

Settling herself down into the space next to you, she draped the blanket over the two of you, shifting closer ever so slightly when it proved not quite big enough to cover you both easily.

…You know, if you’d had to guess where this night would take you, snuggling up with Kim Jennie under a blanket wouldn’t exactly be your first thought.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Those were Jennie’s first words when she got into your car, her expression cold as she tried to manoeuvre her dress skirts inside so that she could close the car door without trapping them.

Amazingly, despite the rain beginning to pour down outside, she looked incredibly put-together. You’d only really met her a few times – maybe enough to count on two hands – but she always seemed so chic and well-dressed. Designer clothes, perfect hair, and just that…like, aura of elegance.

You didn’t know Jennie particularly well, but when you got the call just after midnight from Rosé that Jennie needed a lift home and the situation was, quote, “really not good”, you didn’t hesitate to make the hour-long journey to her.

You had expected her to be at some kind of house party, or some kind of typical date location – like a restaurant, or something. Not a black-tie gala hosted at a hotel so grand and towering that it made your eyes water just to look at it.

Still, you knew Jennie ran in slightly different circles from you and Rosé. Maybe this was a typical Friday night for her.

You didn’t hesitate to start driving, pulling out of the hotel courtyard with as much speed as you could get away with – but you couldn’t deny the vague flicker of unease in your gut.

“Bad night?” You asked, keeping your eyes on the road.

Jennie didn’t reply.

You continued, trying to keep your voice light. “Like, ‘the food was gross and my foot got stepped on’ bad, or…you know, ‘police report’ bad?”

Jennie sighed, folding her arms over her chest. “Just…people being assholes. No laws broken, I just…didn’t want to be there anymore.”

Slightly reassured, you let the subject drop and continued to drive on in silence.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jennie rummage through her clutch purse, draw out her phone – and promptly sigh. “Do you have a phone charger port in here?”

Phone charger port? Your car still had a tape deck. Phone charger ports were a little beyond your budget.

“No, sorry,” you said, glancing over at her. “Do you need one?”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you realised how dumb they were – a realisation only compounded by Jennie’s slow blink at you as she held her dead phone.

“…That was a stupid question,” you mumbled, turning back to the road.

Jennie had the grace not to respond verbally, but her facial expression was enough.

You made the resolution there and then that, for your own pride, it was probably best to keep your mouth shut in front of the pretty girl for the rest of the journey.

That resolution lasted all of twenty-five minutes, ending dramatically when you found yourself stuck on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere and your back wheels stuck over half a foot deep in mud.

You stood there, outside, staring at the wheels in disbelief as rain just bucketed down from the heavens and drenched you. You barely felt it, a little numb with shock and the pervasive thought of just…what the fuck?

You’d tried everything, but there was no way you were getting out of this without a tow.

Reluctantly, you looked back towards the front of the car – where you could just about see the silhouette of Jennie in the passenger seat, her body turned and leaning over the seat to look back at you.

Shit. This was not your night.

Well, to be fair, it was definitely not her night either.

Putting on a brave face, you squared your shoulders and headed back to the driver’s side, pulling open the car door and wincing slightly as your soaked clothes made contact with the fabric seat.

“Uh, so the car is like stuck in that mud,” you explained, trying your best to keep your voice light. You grabbed your phone from where it had been resting in your cupholder, giving you something to look at that wasn’t Jennie’s face. “We’re going to need a tow truck, I think, so let me just…”

With such a – and you say this lovingly – heap of junk for a car, you had the good sense to save the number of a roadside assistance company in your contacts.

That good sense was wasted, however, when you tried to dial the number and were immediately met with a ‘call failed’ message.

No service.

Of course.

“OK,” you said, lifting your phone up as high as it could go and trying to call again, just in case – but to no avail. “There’s no signal here. I can try walking around when the rain stops to find some, and–”

“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” Jennie pointed out. “There’s not going to be signal for, like, miles around. And…”

She trailed off, attention turning towards the window. Without your car’s headlights, you knew it would be completely pitch-black outside. You briefly imagined trying to stumble around in the middle of the night, the ground still slick with rainwater and mud, and your stomach immediately knotted with dread.

Jennie sighed. “Wait until morning, at least.”

Morning?

Morning was still several hours away, which was a very long time to be stuck in a car with someone you barely knew.

To make matters worse, you were starting to shiver. Your wet clothes were clinging to your skin, growing colder and colder with every passing minute. There was a spare change of workout clothes in the gym bag on your backseat, but there was a very obvious problem with changing clothes right now.

“You look freezing,” Jennie noted, eyebrows raised as you tried not to visibly shudder from the cold in front of her. “Is there, like, anything in this car that you can use to dry off?”

“I mean, I’ve got…I’ve got some other clothes,” you admitted, jabbing a thumb towards the bag behind you.

“Maybe you should put those on, before you get pneumonia.”

“I mean, I can, but are you OK with…I mean, I should probably make sure that you’re–”

Jennie rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. Believe it or not, I’m capable of turning around while you’re getting changed.”

You wanted so badly to defend your reluctance, to press your argument further, but you managed to bite your tongue. You awkwardly clambered over the centre console and through the gap between the front seats towards the back, thankfully managing to avoid contact with Jennie as you did so.

With one last glance towards Jennie, just to make sure she was fine with this and facing the other way, you began to peel off your wet t-shirt.

Aware that undressing in complete silence – especially when that undressing involved a long, protracted struggle with wet clothing – would be horrifically awkward, you cleared your throat and tried to make conversation. “So, what’s up with the big fancy party in the middle of nowhere?”

“It was this fundraiser thing. Work-related,” Jennie explained. “One of our biggest donors owns that hotel, and they offered to host. What about you?”

You paused, one arm out of your shirt, confused. “What about me?”

“What were you doing around here, if you were close enough to give me a ride back to the city?”

“Uh…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say. “I wasn’t?”

“What? You were at home?” Jennie asked, her tone incredulous.

“Yeah?”

She paused, seemingly at a loss for words. “That’s…wait, how far is that? An hour away?”

You didn’t know how to answer that. What should you have done? Downplay it?

You watched Jennie tilt her head, and when she spoke again, her voice was a little softer. “…Rosé said you were nice.”

Your face warmed, unused to compliments. You stalled for a second by taking off your shirt entirely, tossing it onto the driver’s seat. Reaching for the dry t-shirt in your gym bag, you managed to reply with a shrug. “Yeah, I like to think I am, I guess.”

“Maybe too nice,” Jennie pointed out. It wasn’t accusatory, not at all, but it was almost like a warning. Like a piece of advice.

You thought this over, putting on the t-shirt. “…Nah. I’m the perfect amount of nice. Everyone else should step up and get on my level.”

To your surprise, Jennie laughed. Kind of. Her version of a laugh was apparently a soft exhale through her nose, but you caught the way her cheekbones lifted for the briefest of smiles.

You cringed at the feeling of peeling off your wet jeans, throwing them away to join your shirt on the driver’s seat, and pulled on the thick, comfy pair of sweatpants instead. They were a little worn, maybe, but so soft. After suffering in those soaked clothes, they felt like heaven.

Now that you had solved the wet clothes issue, you took a moment to assess the situation the two of you had found yourselves in.

Staying the night in a car was not exactly ideal. The biggest concern was security, but in this regard, you were somewhat reassured. Your car might have been ancient, but it was big and sturdy, with strong thick windows you could barely see out of, let alone into. Nothing was getting in.

The next biggest concern, and one in which the solution was less obvious, was how the fuck you were going to stay warm. You couldn’t keep your engine running forever, which meant eventually, the heaters were going to have to turn off.

You might have been fine with your new clothes, but Jennie’s dress wasn’t exactly built for cold weather. You looked it over for a moment, how bare it left her arms, her shoulders, her delicate collarbones. She’d probably get so cold, even if she did look…

An idea suddenly came to you, and after a second of rummaging around in the dimness of the overhead light, you found what you were looking for, folded up and hidden away in one of the footwells. “Hey, Jennie?”

She turned around, eyes dropping for a second to note your new clothes, before bringing them back up to your face. “Yeah?”

“You want a blanket?” You asked, grabbing the item in question and extending it to her.

Her gaze shifted towards the blanket, brow furrowing. “You have a blanket in your car?”

“Yeah, it’s from…” you paused, debating whether it was worth telling the whole story, and decided you might as well. “I went on this star-gazing date thing with this girl who was super into astronomy a few weeks ago. The date kinda fizzled out, but the views were nice and the blanket was warm. I just forgot to take it out of my car.”

“Oh,” Jennie murmured, pausing for a second. Then, she reached for the blanket, taking it and drawing it over her shoulders. It was big enough that she could bundle herself within it, and you couldn’t help but smile as she took a moment to do just that, her hands pulling it tight around her.

It was…honestly, kind of cute, which was something you definitely didn’t expect to come from someone as cool and sophisticated as Jennie.

“It should be nice and warm,” you said, brightly. “It’s super thick.”

“Yeah, it’s fluffy,” Jennie murmured, almost to herself.

“I just figured you’d need it. I’m going to turn the engine off soon, so it’s going to be freezing in here.”

Jennie looked over at you. “Wait, do you have a blanket too?”

“I’ll be fine,” you said, with a shrug.

Jennie made a face. “Again, like I said, you’re too nice. This is your car, and your blanket, and you’re going to spend the whole night freezing here without it. Stop inconveniencing yourself just for others.”

You frowned. “It’s not an inconvenience, you just need it more than I do.”

“Your hair’s still wet.”

“You’re wearing spaghetti straps.”

“Fine, we’ll just share the blanket then,” Jennie declared with a huff, like it was no big deal. Before you could even react, she was already tossing the blanket onto the backseat. “Do you want me to turn the engine off now? It’s already been running for ages.”

You blinked, still thrown by this sudden news of blanket-sharing. “Uh…yeah, I guess?”

You watched her lean over and turn off the ignition, retrieving your keys easily. The car engine, once a comforting steady hum of background noise, fell silent, as did your heaters.

Now, there was a strange air of quiet as Jennie made her way through the gap to join you on the backseat – and how the hell did she manage to make the journey over the centre console look that smooth?

Settling herself down into the space next to you, she draped the blanket over the two of you, shifting closer ever so slightly when it proved not quite big enough to cover you both easily.

…You know, if you’d had to guess where this night would take you, snuggling up with Kim Jennie under a blanket wouldn’t exactly be your first thought.

You weren’t quite touching, but you could feel her warmth, the unmistakable sign of just how close she was, just almost within reach.

You cleared your throat, trying to collect your thoughts before they wandered into more dangerous territory. “So, I don’t think I’ve ever heard how you and Rosé became friends?”

The corner of Jennie’s lip turned upwards into a half-smile. She reached up to her artfully arranged hairdo, began to carefully remove the hairpins holding it together, and talked as she did so. “We went to high school together. I only joined halfway through the year, and my English still kind of sucked. She…took me under her wing, I guess.”

“That’s really sweet.”

“Yeah. She’s always been great with things like that. With people,” Jennie said, before looking down at the blanket, and she shrugged one shoulder. “And I’ve just always been the bitch.”

You jerked upwards a little, affronted on her behalf. “I’ve never thought you were a bitch, Jennie.”

She removed another hairpin, and made a thoroughly unconvinced noise. “Pfft.”

“I haven’t!”

“Yeah, well…” she paused, eyeing you for a moment. “There’s not exactly many of you.”

“Well, screw what everyone else thinks,” you said, unable to stop yourself from raising your voice just a little. “They didn’t see you at Pride.”

“Pride?”

“Yeah,” you said. You remembered it clearly, even now, two years later. It was Rosé’s first time going to Pride after coming out, and she was so nervous. And then Jennie had turned up, sunglasses on and stone-faced - with a little Etsy-sourced handmade ally flag pin on the lapel of her Chanel jacket, and waving a pocket-sized rainbow flag in solidarity. “That’s always what I think about when I think of you. How good of a friend you were to Rosé that day.”

Jennie blinked at you, her face completely slack with surprise. You felt your stomach drop just a little, and you couldn’t tell if you’d said something wrong, or if maybe you’d said something perfectly right.

After a long moment, Jennie turned away, frowning. “…You really are too nice.”

You sighed, leaning back against the seat. On a whim, you shuffle just the tiniest bit closer, just so you can properly envelop yourself within this blanket. “I’m really not. I shouldn’t be, anyway.”

Jennie didn’t reply to that. Instead, she looked up at the roof of the car, and you pretended that you didn’t notice the brief second she bit her lip in thought. “So, I’ve never really asked, but…are you and Rosé a thing?”

You were caught off-guard by this question, but not by much. This wasn’t the first time you’d been asked something along these lines, and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. “Nope. Just friends.”

“OK. And are you going to stay just friends?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan,” you remarked.

“It’s just…I figured that since you both like girls, and you’re really close…”

Jenny might have trailed off, but you could catch the gist of the sentence pretty easily – and you were determined to give a definitive answer to such an open-ended question. “

“No. She’s great, I love her but…you know, you don’t have to be into someone to love them. It’s like your dude friends, right? They like girls but that doesn’t mean they want to bang?”

Jennie’s expression faltered, and for a brief moment, you caught a flicker of emotion in her eye. “I wish.”

Those words were edged with something, and you realised you might have stumbled onto something a little too personal.

“Have you ever had a girlfriend?” Jennie asked, and you were so startled by the sudden question that for a moment, you forgot all about that fairly obvious change in subject.

“…Yeah. Not many,” you admitted, but you weren’t particularly filled with guilt or shame or anything like that. Just a vague sense of embarrassment for your younger self, but that was pretty standard. “I’m always busy with school and stuff.”

With what was apparently the final hairpin removed, Jennie made quick work of the hair tie keeping her hair in such a perfect bun. Her hair – long, black, smooth, shiny – fell around her face, framing her perfectly. “What’s it like?”

“Um. Nice? I haven’t really dated-dated dudes, but I found that girls usually understood me a little more. The ones I’ve dated anyway. They could pick up all my little emotional tells. Intense, maybe. You can get very attached very quickly.”

“Hmm.”

“Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” Jennie said. She opened her mouth like she was going to say more, closed it quickly, but there was a lingering thoughtfulness in her eyes. Like she was thinking very hard about something.

“What is it?”

“…I think…uh, well, it’s something I’ve…” Jennie sighed, frustrated at her uncharacteristic stumble with words, and tried to simplify it. “Girls are pretty.”

“They are.”

“And…some of them are more than that.”

“Yeah, quite a few.”

“Some of them are…” Jennie trailed off, looking at you. “You know, some are…”

You waited for her to finish her sentence.

She didn’t.

Instead, she leaned forward suddenly, and kissed you square on the mouth.

You barely had time to think, frozen, and she withdrew almost immediately.

“Oh, God,” she lamented, burying her face in her hands. “I’m so sorry.”

You couldn’t even respond, wordless from shock.

Jennie kissed you?

Jennie kissed you.

Jennie – like, Jennie – kissed you.

…Huh.

“You don’t have to apologise,” you said, words slowly coming back to you. “It’s fine.”

She made a face – or, you thought she did, it was hard to tell through her hands – and muttered back. “No, I…I didn’t even ask, at the very fucking least, let alone…ugh.”

She sharply turned away, curling in on herself. Even from this angle, with her back to you, you could tell she was hoping for the ground would swallow her whole.

And still, from the glimpse of her cheek in profile, you thought you could see a blush.

You swallowed, looking down at your hands, trying to seem cool and composed as you shrugged. “You can ask now, if you want.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jennie still. She turned, slowly, fixing you with the wariest of looks. “…What?”

You glanced over to her, trying your best to stay calm despite the way your heart was starting to pound, and repeated. “You can ask now if you want.”

Jennie stared at you for a moment, silent.

And then…

“Can I…” she paused, the pink of her cheeks darkening even more, but she managed to stay strong. “Can I kiss you?”

You swallowed. “Yeah. Yes. Yes, you can.”

She leaned forward – and paused, just for a moment. The briefest moment in which to double-check one’s actions, to decide just what exactly one should do, and to change course if needed. Jennie paused for all that time, and still chose to follow through and kiss you again.

This time, you were ready. You met her halfway, one hand lifting up to cradle Jennie’s face. The kiss was sweet, tender, and when you pulled away to breathe, she chased after you tenaciously to reconnect.

Her lips were soft, full, and you couldn’t help but want to run your tongue along the bottom lip, just a little.

Not yet. Let her adjust, let her get used to….

You felt her hand find your waist under the blanket, and you shivered at the feeling of her fingertips just brushing the sensitive skin below the waistband of your sweatpants.

Taking that as an encouragement to start exploring, you let your hand wander from her cheek to her jaw, to the softness of her hair. You let the little strands wind around your fingers, combing through it, and you murmured against her lips. “Fuck, you’re so pretty, Jennie.”

Jennie didn’t respond in words, but instead by pressing her lips to the soft skin under your jaw. You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back against the seat, and your breath left you shakily.

Her other hand found your thigh, pressing down slightly as she used it to support her own weight, to move even closer.

You were sat there, back pressed against the seat, legs parted, Jennie’s mouth on your neck, wishing for her to take notice and climb onto your lap, maybe slide that hand upwards underneath your shirt, maybe–

And then it hit you.

You stilled, muscles tensing, and you tried to pull away. “Jennie…”

She made the softest whine, protesting, and you had to very purposefully grip her by the shoulder and gently but firmly push her away before she realised just how serious you were being.

“Jennie,” you breathed, voice still uneven. You tried to stay firm, even in the face of her newly mussed hair, in the pink of her cheeks and the parting of her lips as she drew much-needed breath. “Jennie, you’re…you were upset tonight. I don’t want to–”

“No, I wasn’t,” Jennie argued, her gaze dropping to your lips.

You swallowed. “You were. Maybe this isn’t the best idea right now.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t…I don’t want to take advantage, if you’re feeling–”

“You’re not.”

“Jenn–”

“You’re not,” she repeated, insistent, and there was an unmistakable edge to her tone. Frustration, maybe? Anger? “Because I’m not upset, I…”

She paused, sighing bitterly, glancing upwards as she debated something.

“…Look, you want to know what happened tonight?” Jennie said, finally, jaw set with a determination to prove you wrong. “One of my guy friends asked me out. I turned him down, the fucking nicest way I could, and he still made a huge scene over it. My ex was there, they got into a whole thing, and I didn’t want to be there anymore to witness their dick-measuring contest. That’s it.”

She took a deep breath, as you tried to absorb her words, tried to wrap your head around this information, and continued with a new vulnerability in her voice.

“It didn’t upset me. It…it embarrassed me, sure. It fucking pissed me off, definitely. But it didn’t upset me. You’re not taking advantage just because I was in a bad mood. Was, because then we started talking, and…”

She glanced away, not quite brave enough to finish that sentence, but you could fill in the gaps yourself. Something – some warm feeling – bloomed in your chest.

“So, if you don’t want to, that’s fine,” Jennie finished, squaring her shoulders, keeping her head held high as she stared you down directly. “But don’t pin it on me. I know what I want.”

You held her gaze for a moment, saying nothing.

And then, silently, you rested your hand on the curve of her hip, and watched the way her chest swelled with a surprised intake of breath.

“And what do you want?” You asked, voice very purposefully light, even as your thumb began to trace circles into the thin fabric of her dress.

Exhaling, slowly, Jennie let herself relax into your touch. “…More of that.”

“Yeah? What else?”

“You to kiss me,” Jennie said, bold, defiant.

You smiled, blinking innocently. “Kiss you where?”

The memory of her reaction – the way her face flushed, the way she almost choked on her own breath, the swallow that made her throat bob – would burn itself into your mind, never to be forgotten.

This time, it was you who initiated the kiss. You let your tongue run over her bottom lip, just as you’d wanted, before turning your attention elsewhere – the pink of her cheeks, the long column of her neck, the collarbone you’d been trying your best not to stare at the moment she got into your car.

You looped an arm around her waist and gently, carefully, pulled her onto your lap – not quite all the way, just enough for your thigh to slot itself comfortably between her legs.

“This is such a nice dress, Jennie,” you noted, running one hand up her side, from hip to waist to just brushing the side of her chest before coming up to her shoulder. Carefully, you hooked your index finger under the thin strap of her dress, letting it fall just off the shoulder.

You pressed a kiss to where it had once been, then a little lower. Then, a little lower again. And again. Slowly, carefully, giving her plenty of time to stop you if she wanted. She didn’t, and when your mouth finally found its way to her breast, she let out the quietest little sigh.

It was becoming very obvious that Jennie wasn’t wearing a bra. You’d thought maybe she could have been wearing a strapless one, but no, it was becoming increasingly clear through the thin material that she absolutely was not. When your lips closed around her nipple through the fabric, Jennie’s hand found itself curling around the back of your head, and she let herself…press against your thigh.

That could be fun, you thought idly, getting distracted by Jennie’s first whimper when you let your teeth scrape against her. It could be fun to let Jennie ride your thigh.

Except there was something in you that wanted something a little more…hands-on. Maybe, just maybe, deep down, you’d admit that you wanted to show off a little.

So, you pulled away from her breast to press your lips to hers once more, bringing your left hand up to cradle her jaw.

And with your right, you let it slide under her tangle of dress skirts, and gently rested it on her bare knee.

“Is this OK?” You asked, pressing a little peck to the corner of her mouth.

“Only if it doesn’t stay there,” Jennie mumbled, tilting your head with her own hands to resume kissing.

Just as she wished, you very slowly slid your hand up her leg, along the soft and sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Jennie rolled her hips against your thigh, just once, impatient, but you didn’t rush yourself. This was half the fun, letting the anticipation build.

A fucking rush of satisfaction filled you when you felt just how wet Jennie had gotten for you. What an ego-boost it was, to run your fingers over where she and your thigh connected, to feel the damp lace against your fingertips, to hear Jennie breathily accuse you of teasing.

With another kiss, this time open-mouthed and against her neck, you pushed her underwear to one side and found her clit with the pad of your thumb. You rubbed circles into it, slowly, just to test what she might like.

Jennie moaned, loudly, her head falling forward. Her mouth was so close to your ear, allowing you to hear every single little catch in her breathing, every choked noise, everything, as you began to learn her body. She was sensitive, she liked it slow, and she especially liked when you murmured her name. You learned how to tell when she wanted something, when something was too much, how the muscles of her thighs tensed and clamped down at just the right balance of almost ‘too much’.

Your free hand drifted to the curve of her ass, squeezing slightly as you gently lifted her up – giving you just enough space to slip your middle finger inside of her.

“Fuck, Jennie,” you breathed, as she groaned and rocked backwards onto your hand. Before long, you could add your ring finger – and with the smallest repositioning of your hand, you made sure that with every motion, your thumb would drag across her most sensitive spot, and you felt the breath that punched its way out of her chest when she first discovered this.

You could make her come like this. And what’s more, you realised, you could make her come like this easily.

But there was something else that tempted you, an image that refused to leave your mind.

Why not leave it up to Jennie?

“You want me to keep doing this?” You asked, breathless, pausing to kiss the underside of her jaw. “Or do you want my mouth? It’s up to you, baby.”

The endearment slipped its way out of your mouth before you could stop it, but Jennie didn’t seem to mind. You watched her struggle with the decision, eyes dark and dazed with lust, biting her lip.

“Are you…” Jennie began, before pausing to let out another choked moan, eyes squeezing shut for a second, “…good?”

There was no way to answer that question without sounding like you were bragging, so you settled for a semi-sheepish grin. “Haven’t had any complaints.”

Jennie exhaled shakily, and nodded. “OK. Mouth, then.”

Carefully, you moved Jennie off of your lap, laying her down on her back across the backseat. You couldn’t deny that your new position, kneeling between her legs, one of your feet jammed in one footwell, the other leg awkwardly pressed against the edge of the seat, was cramped – but it was so, so worth the noises that forced their way out of Jennie’s mouth when your tongue brushed against her clit.

Fuck, it was so worth it. It was worth all the confined space and awkward manoeuvring that sex in a car provided, it was worth the hour-long journey, it was worth getting stuck in the mud and the inevitable wait for a tow truck and the freezing cold of the night, because all of it brought you Kim Jennie grinding up against your tongue, close to sobbing as she finally unravelled, coming with a sharp cry and thighs clamping down around your head.

You let her ride it out, watching her shake as she came down from the high, hooking your arm around her thigh as you turned your head to press a kiss to the soft skin there.

It took a few minutes, the car perfectly silent except for the heavy breathing coming from both of you, almost in unison, and the heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Until, finally, Jennie managed to push herself up to a seated position, chest still visibly rising and falling with every breath. She took in the sight of you, letting her head loll to one side against the headrest, and she gave you one of her little half-smiles.

“I never thanked you for driving all the way out here, did I?”

“No,” you replied, slowly, trying to keep yourself from smiling back.

Jennie reached out, offering her hand to you.

“Then, get up here and show me how to.”

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starstruckunknown-princess · 6 days

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Hyacinth - Joel Miller x Reader

Hyacinth (Hyacinthus) - Meaning: Please forgive me

Summary: After hitting your car, Joel Miller takes you out on a date to apologize.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count: 1921

Warnings: Fluff!, slight language, reader wears makeup and a sundress but is otherwise a blank slate, Pre/no outbreak AU, no Ellie, reader was left at the altar, dinner date conversation, making out, nicknames 'sugar' and 'darlin', Joel Miller is a warning in and of himself

I'm really happy with how this turned out! Just a fluffy first date with Joel Miller. Enjoy!

In Bloom Masterlist

Likes, Comments, Reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated! ❤️

“Am I crazy?” you asked your best friend, Maria, while applying your mascara.

“For what? Going on a date with the guy who smashed up your car?” Maria asked dryly, shrugging her shoulders while she watched you get ready. “Nah, I’ve done crazier shit.”

“What if I remember him much more handsome than he is? Like the adrenaline made me think he was super hot?” you asked.

“You can always invoke the code phrase and I’ll call you from ‘the hospital.’” Maria offered, putting ‘the hospital’ in air quotes. You smiled over at her and reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze. She smiled back at you. “Though I hope he’s not a dud. It’s about damn time you got back out there.”

“You’re telling me,” you muttered, touching up your lipstick. You hadn’t had anything more than a hook-up since you were left at the altar two years ago, throwing yourself into work and fixing up the house you bought with your ex.

With a final look in the mirror, you fluffed your hair and gave yourself a look of approval, then turned to Maria for final approval.

“You look hot, babe. This guy isn’t gonna know what hit him.”

You laughed, “Good, cuz he’s the one who hit me. Well, my car, but you know.”

Three days ago in the grocery store parking lot, you’d been pulling into a spot when a scruffy-looking man hopped into the truck in the spot across from you, started it up, and pulled forward without looking. The front of your little sedan stood no chance against the grill of his behemoth contractor’s truck.

He’d been incredibly embarrassed and apologetic, offering his insurance info and to pay for the damages himself. Amidst all this, you couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was. Brown curls with a striking hint of gray at the temples, broad, square jaw, and his eyes. Oh, you couldn’t get enough of his eyes and their dark brownness that threatened to swallow you whole. He must’ve noticed you staring because shortly after the tow truck arrived, he asked you on a date.

“I know this ain’t the best time and, y’know if you’ve got a boyfriend or somethin’ feel free to tell me to shut up, but uh, I was wonderin’ if you’d let me buy ya dinner Friday night? As an apology.” A light blush had risen in his cheeks and he shuffled his feet like he was nervous, so you agreed to it. The smile on his face could’ve lit up the whole city. “Great, I’ll drive.”

You’d both laughed at his joke.

The doorbell you installed yourself rang, pulling you back to the present. Maria went downstairs and opened the door. You turned back to the mirror for one last once-over before Maria called your name. You descended into the foyer of your house and couldn’t help the smile that rose on your face.

Joel Miller framed in your front doorway, wearing a dark green button-down and dark wash jeans would forever be seared into your memory. He looked, in a word, delectable. When he saw you, he smiled.

“Hey,” he said. “Ready to go?”

“Yep,” you said, but Maria cleared her throat from where she held the door open. “Oh! Joel, this is my friend Maria. Maria, this is Joel.”

They muttered hellos and you grabbed your purse, muttering to Maria that no hospital visit was necessary. She smirked her knowing smirk and nodded, bidding you good night.

Joel brought you to a nice Italian place, behaving like the perfect Southern Gentleman the whole time. He’d opened doors for you, pulled out your chair, and kept his hands to himself other than a hand at the small of your back to guide you to the table. You’d thought manners like this had gone the way of 8-track players and rotary phones, but you were utterly charmed by him.

While you looked over the menu, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him in the candlelight. You didn’t know he’d been doing the same since he picked you up until he cleared his throat.

“Uh, you look really beautiful tonight,” he said. You could tell he was nervous — dark brown eyes darting all over, fingers tapping on the table.

You smiled warmly at him to try and ease his nerves, “You look really nice, too, Joel. I’ve been looking forward to this since you hit my car.”

Your assurance seemed to calm him and he chuckled, “Me too, actually. Best accident I’ve ever been in. Well, second best.”

“What’s the first?” you asked, curious.

A pink hue tinged his cheeks and he looked down at the table. “My daughter. She wasn’t planned, but she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“You have a daughter?”

“Yeah, is that,” he cleared his throat again, “is that an issue?”

“God, no!” you insisted, “So you’re divorced? I hope?” you joked.

“Uhh, her mom split before we got married. Haven’t heard from her since.” He muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as the server came over and took your orders.

When the server left, Joel wouldn’t meet your gaze. Before you got the chance to ask about his daughter he leaned forward a bit and made eye contact. “I’m sorry, I don’t do this often. I think the last date I went on was when Sarah was in preschool so it’s been a while.”

Because you had a faulty filter, or because you wanted him to know you knew how awkward dating was you blurted, “I was left at the altar two years ago. So I haven’t dated much either.”

“Really?” His eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

“Yeah. We’d been together for six years, I followed him out here for his job, and then on the big day — poof! He disappeared. Two days later, he called from Florida and said he’d gotten a job offer he couldn’t refuse but he didn’t want to uproot the life I had built here,” you scoffed at the bitterness of your memory, washing it down with a sip of wine.

In the dimness of the restaurant his features softened, but you didn’t see pity in his eyes. Only understanding.

And damn if it wasn’t exactly what you needed.

Joel, you were coming to realize, was exactly what you needed.

“Well he’s a goddamn moron,” Joel said. “Only spent a few hours with ya and I can tell.”

Your heart fluttered when his big hand landed on top of yours on the table. The weight of his hand on top of yours felt incredibly intimate, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind. In fact, you really liked it.

“How old is Sarah now?” you asked, not moving your hand.

“Almost fourteen.”

You couldn’t help your reaction — your eyebrows shot up and you tried the mental math. Joel wasn’t that much older than you, maybe mid-thirties, late thirties max, so if his daughter was a teenager he had her in his early twenties.

“That must’ve been hard,” you said, turning your hand over under his so you were palm-to-palm and squeezing his hand gently, “Raising her on your own.”

Joel nodded and squeezed back, “Yeah, but my brother helps out and working for myself helps too.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a contractor.”

You lit up at that, mentioning all the little house projects you’d attempted and the two of you chatted about how much subway tiling a bathroom sucks until your entrees arrived.

You kept talking as you ate, finding more and more topics as the night wore on. Joel agreed to split a tiramisu even though he “didn’t much like sweets,” which you giggled at.

“Me neither, but tiramisu is the exception.”

You let him have the first bite, and he nodded in pleasure. “Yeah, that’s pretty damn good.”

Once the tiramisu was gone and the server dropped the check, you did the check dance, but he insisted that tonight was about him making amends so he should pay. You conceded, but only after insisting that next time was on you.

He’d raised an eyebrow at you, dark eyes getting somehow darker, “There’s gonna be a next time?”

Returning his smile, you nodded, “If you’d like to. I know I would.”

Joel finished signing the receipts and stood up, extending a large hand down for you to take. He lifted you up and your body filled with heat at his gaze. Even though you’d just eaten, he looked hungry.

“Me too, sugar,” he said lowly, lacing his fingers between yours and leading you out to his truck. Again, he opened the door for you like a gentleman and you could feel his eyes on you as you climbed in. You watched him round the front of the truck and get into the driver’s seat, eyes fixed on his hands as he turned the key and made a show of double-checking before he backed out of the parking spot which made you laugh.

You couldn’t help your eyes landing on him every few minutes as he drove you home, talking incessantly about his daughter. It was incredibly endearing how enamored he was with his kid, how much he admired her accomplishments and how he wished he could spend more time with her without work getting in the way. You could tell this was a man who loved deeply, was loyal to the core, and would carve his own heart out of his chest to make those he loved happy.

You were half in love with him already, but you shoved that thought away because it was way too soon.

Joel turned down your street and pulled into your driveway, hopping out and opening your door yet again. He helped you down and you kept hold of his hand.

“Walk you to your door?” he asked, voice husky and eyes dark. You nodded and he led you by the hand onto your porch. It was like something out of a movie. The warm night breeze wafted his spicy cologne toward you, making you lean in closer. His eyes bounced from your eyes to your lips, his own lips parted. From this close you admired each of the gray hairs blooming along his temple and in his short beard.

“Can I kiss you, darlin’?” he asked, accent thicker than it had been.

“Yes please,” you breathed, and he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was warm, soft yet firm, like the first bite into a perfectly ripe peach. He tasted like tiramisu and your hands wandered up to his chest. Underneath his shirt, you could feel his pulse quickening along with your own as his hands came to rest at your hips.

You wanted more, wanted to deepen the kiss and pull his firm, broad body flush against your own —

But then your front door opened, revealing Maria.

“Oh! Sorry, thought I heard…”

You and Joel broke apart at your best friend’s interruption. Joel looked sheepish, burying his hands in his pockets.

“Give us a sec,” you said to Maria, who shut the door. Years of friendship told you she was eavesdropping on the other side of the door, so you kept it brief.

“I had a really, really great time tonight, Joel,” you said.

He smiled down at you, brushing some hair behind your ear. “Me too. You busy tomorrow night?”

You shook your head, “Free as a bird.”

“Good. Pick you up at seven?”

“It’s a date.”

#writing challenge #fanfiction #in bloom #fluff #tlou fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff

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sardonic-the-writer · 1 year

Text

—business man

SUMMARY | tip number one to survive new york: If you see a blonde british boy running up and offering you pond water, run.

PAIRING | tommyinnit x reader

REQUESTED | no

WARNINGS | none

WORD COUNT | 1.5k+

AUTHORS NOTES | i've gotten back into the swing of things haven't i

🛹 Masterlist 🛹 Navigation 🛹 Rules 🛹

New York was many things. Dirty. Expensive looking while managing to be cheap in quality. Crowded. A tourist trap. But most of all, it was captivating.

Try as you may, the beauty of the heavily graffitied alleyways and skateparks was not lost on you. Each act of vandalism, each scuff left behind from a sneaker as someone lost their footing on a halfpipe, told a story. Perhaps it wasn't the content of these stories that held your interest in an iron clad grip, but rather the fact that they weren't yours. And you had always had a knack for poking your curiosity where it didnt belong.

Perhaps that's why you didn't do the sensible thing that afternoon and turn to walk away as a yelling British teenager approached you with a bottle of water.

All you had really wanted was to take a quick walk down to your favorite corner store to stock up on the basics for your tiny apartment that cost an arm and leg to live in. Maybe pick up a cookie or something from the bakery near it on the way back.

You figured it wouldn't take long, considering you knew a short cut. Straight through a little plaza located right next to a far more popular park. It was no diamond in the rough so to speak. There were probably dozens like that one sprinkled all around the city, but it offered some relief for your aching feet. If you cut through there and past a little path hidden among some bushes in the corner of it, you'd shave roughly ten minutes off your walk. It was either you took that or you would have to start investing in better shoe support.

"Hey! Hello there!"

Sounds of surrounding foot traffic blended from person to person. No one conversation stuck long enough for you to make out what was being said, but it was fun to try and imagine. Occasionally an odd quote in passing would elicit a harsh laugh from you before it was disguised as a poor cough.

"Hulloooo. Over here!"

Was someone trying to talk to you?

Your brows furrowed, picking up the sound of someone's voice for the second time that past minute, seemingly directed right at you. Your neck swiveled around a quick ninety degrees, hoping to all hell this wasn't some weird catcalling ploy. But all thoughts of anything like that vanished as soon as you found the grinning source of your confusion.

He had the wildest blond hair you had ever seen. It curled into ringlets in some places and clung to other parts of his head messily. Like he had slept wrong on a long car trip across the country.

His hoodie, as red as a crayon straight out of the box, was marked with small print you couldn't make out. It was only until he had begun to get closer—two more people in tow—did you realize you had been stood staring at his hoodie for longer than intended.

"Excuuuuse me!" There was no mistake now that you were the target of this person's interest. That was clear enough in the way he sprinted over, shoes slapping noisily across concrete, just to reach your side.

It wasn't uncommon to be flagged down with strangers holding stuff on the bustling streets of the big apple. Some were nicer than others, simply offering a look at their product before moving on when they got no response. Others took to sneakier and more forceful methods. They were one of the many reasons you had taken to donning a resting bitch face.

"Why hello there! Don't you look parched?" His smile was too wide, too genuine, to be true. Eyes crinkling at the edges with a hint of humor you had the feeling you wouldn't, or rather couldn't, understand even if you tried.

Instincts told you to wave him off and keep going on your merry way ignoring the pain in your feet. But you took one more look at him with his loud accent and crooked smile and decided not to.

"Not really." Your shoulders moved in an up and down motion, shrugging off whatever sales pitch he had set up. "Was about to hop on over to the store. Gonna get a drink there anyways." A lie. But like I said before, you had a habit of becoming to invested in situations like these. And maybe you wanted to see how he responded to your bluff. Just a little.

"Well fair pedestrian—" Wow he really was loud. Energetic too from the looks of it. "—what if I told you I could offer something far better than any bland soda you Americans drink? Hmm?"

"Oh really?" You flicked your gaze to the plastic bottle crinkling in his hand, noting the way it seemed to swirl around with bits of silt and salt in it. "Just looks like pond water to me."

"Ah! A smart customer. Got a melon on their head aye?" He turned to look at his companions now. More specifically at the one holding a camera, a detail you hadn't noticed until now. Not that it bothered you. People always had cameras out nowadays. especially in a city as famous as this.

"So it's just pond water. I'm assuming from that fountain over there?"

"Right on! Big Drink, the water of the future."

Okay maybe you were having a bit too much fun humoring this kid.

"Alright mister businessman." He puffed his chest out at your title, and while you couldn't tell if it was for the presence of a camera or simply because it filled him with a sense of pride, it brought a smile to your face nonetheless. "Say I do decide to take a shot in the dark at your new product. What's in it for me? And more importantly, will my wallet be hurting after our exchange of goods and or services." You winced at that last bit, making a clicking sound with your tounge. "Maybe I can rephrase that better next time."

But the lanky figure next to you didn't seem to mind, letting out a laugh that could only be described as boisterous before straightening back up.

"Well, you'd be the first to invest in this promising product, only at the cost of one hundred dollas! But for you I'll add on a discount of ninety nine percent." His accent thickened a considerable amount on the last bit, presumably with excitement.

"Very generous of you mister businessman."

"Thats mister businessman Tommy to you."

Alright. So you were now standing here, fishing for your wallet in front of three strangers, one of which you were now on a first name basis with. Now that could either be the set up for a very bad stand-up comedy joke, or something to be concerned about. But for some reason, it was the most fun you had had in ages.

"I'll be expecting my share of the cut in the mail when you rag tag lot make it big. Make it out to one (Y/n) the fabulous. I prefer hard cold cash, preferably delivered in an envelope" Your laugh was full of childlike enjoyment as you handed Tommy a crumpled five-dollar bill in exchange for the water bottle. Only after he paused to scribble something on the lable—a detail that you missed.

However, what you didn't miss was the way his smile faltered a little, clearly not expecting the surplus of money even if so miniscule. But you got the feeling he wasn't upset. Just surprised someone would do that in the first place. And honestly, so were you—although not regretful. Still. Bye bye cookie you had been looking forward to. Hello pond water that smelled faintly of piss.

"Consider the other four dollars money for the postage when I get my share of the cut."

Tommy shoved the bill in his pocket. He looked at you with a different flash of something in his baby blues now. A more friendly look—if that was even possible. He was probably the most friendly person you had met, especially on the streets.

"Trust me, you'll get it if it's the last thing I ever do." He gave a goofy salute in your honor, causing one of the camera men from behind to giggle before quieting quickly.

"Good luck with the rest of your sales Tommy." You offered a small wave as you walked off, clutching your newly acquired prize loosely.

Common sense told you to throw it in the first trashcan you passed. Getting rid of whatever plague the liquid might be containing.

But the longer you walked, thinking about that bright smile and genuine joy you had just encountered, your grip only tightened on the plastic.

It wasn't until you were three blocks away from the plaza did you see the number hastily scrawled on the edge of the handmade label. Right next to big bold words, reading Big Drink!!!!!™️

You were quick to utilize it. Probably too quick to be honest.

text sent at 6:21 pm do you give your number out to all your coustomers? must be bad for buisness

text received at 6:21 pm only the fuinny ones

text received at 6:22 pm fuck

text received at 6:22 pm *funny

Yeah. The water bottle was worth it.

#tommyinnit #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit x y/n #mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n #mcyt tommyinnit #cc!tommyinnit #dsmp #dsmp x reader #dsmp x you #dsmp x y/n #x reader #one shot #fluff #imagine

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ynluvy · 4 months

Text

ᥫ᭡ ㅤFORTUNATE TURN OF EVENTS. | dks. 🍮

ㅤ𓈒ㅤ ＼ ㅤ♰ word count : 487

author’s notes :

okokok hi hello everyone liza here and im finally back with this shitty fic and what not. i decided to start small and gradually build since when i first started writing, i cared too much about things that didn’t matter. but im back! enjoy this kyungsoo fic lovlies <3. also happy new year guys!

so, your car got towed.

not exactly a proud moment for you since you’ve been trying to not-so-sweet talk your way out of it with the operator who’s giving you no time of day.

“come on, man! i was in the gas station for five fuckin’ minutes! can’t you just let me off easy? i’m not even from around here.” you say, trailing behind them as they write your receipt. “not my problem lady, the sign should’ve been enough for you not to park here.” the operator says, ripping the paper off the pad and handing it to you. you look at the receipt and your eyes nearby pop out of their sockets.

“350 bucks!? for a goddamn tow? a tow is 350, really?” you scoff. “this is the worst fuckin’ day ever.” you say as a matter of factly with a dejected smile and tone of voice.

you watch as the operator drives of with your car quite literally in tow, sighing and preparing to walk in the direction of your home.

after walking a couple of miles, you started to see a black convertible kind of easing up on you, speeding up then slowing down almost as if the car itself was unsure of what to do and not the driver. your eyebrow raised as it suddenly caught up to you and came to an abrupt halt, the car jerking back slightly. you shake your head and keep moving forward and hear the car door open, “wait! hold up a minute!” a guy says.

you stop and turn towards the voice, seeing a very attractive unknown man jogging towards you. you tilt your head and furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you have no idea why he would all of a sudden start talking to you.

he catches up to you and you stop. “um, i was driving a couple miles back and i saw you walking and it looked like you needed maybe a ride? i-i know it looks very much like im a serial killer but you really looked like you needed a ride and if you didn’t i’m very sorry but-” he takes a deep breath. “i’m rambling and you don't even know who i am,”

he nervously chuckled and you snickered. “well, who are you then?” his shoulders relaxed and he held out his hand. “kyungsoo. and you are?” “y/n. now what were you saying about that ride?”

long story short you accepted the ride offer. he was a surprisingly nice guy who said that this was quote, “out of his element”. he told you bits and pieces about his life, filling you in on his cooking skills, his love for music and many other things.

you told him about your problem and why you were walking and he offered to pay it for you, no paybacks or transactions needed — as long as you went for a coffee with him.

#do kyungsoo #kyungsoo x reader #kyungsoo #exo x reader #exo #kpop fanfic #ynluvy #baekhyun #baekhyun x reader #oh sehun #sehun x reader

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cy-cyborg · 5 months

Text

Don't you just love dealing with insurance as a disabled person?

in august, someone driving a company vehicle hit my car and wrote it off. This car was modified to allow me to drive it, it had old mechanical hand controls that were nothing special but they got the job done. I can't drive without hand controls, physically or legally.

They f*cked us around with the claims process for so long that we decided we needed to go and try to get a car, paying out of pocket (putting ourselves in dept to do so) because public transport where we live is shit and I need to be able to go to appointments, not to mention my partner is a door dasher who depends on a car for our income.

In early November the insurance of the company the at-fault driver belonged to finally answered us back (but only after my partner and I AND the towing company who took the car threatened legal action because they were ghosting everyone) and they finally admitted they were at fault and asked for our terms. We only asked for the hand controls to be covered and that they pay the towing company and other costs associated with the accident (I think there were fees from council or something because oil spilled on the road but I don't remember details).

Much to my suprise, they agreed to pay for all of it, explicitly stating, in writing, that they'd pay for the cost of the hand controls and their installation in the new car. We gave them a quote from the only place "in our area" (aka 2 hours away) that could do the installation. The style I had no longer exists, and the next cheapest option is $8,800.

They answered us back today and offered us $3,000 total. That won't even cover the cost of the assessment the NSW government insists that I have to get done before they can be installed. Hell I don't even think that would cover the cost to get the old mechanical ones installed if they still existed, I paid $5,000 for them back in 2018/2019 and prices for all disability-related stuff has sky-rocketed since then. So despite them admitting their client was at fault, they still think it's fair that I should be out over $5,000 just to be able to use the car that replaced the one thier client wrecked. That's not even touching on how much we were out for the cost of the new car itself. We didn't ask for that, we just wanted the hand controls covered.

As if I don't have enough going on right now, I not get to add "fight with insurance" to the list.

[ID:A Gif showing a woman with black hair, a white shirt and blue skirt angrily flip over a small plastic table/End ID]

#I promise I'll stop with the rant posts soon but god I'm so tired 😭#Disabled Tax #disability #disabled #insurance #car insurance

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idontknowreallywhy · 4 months

Text

Estera - Ch 24 - Drive

Another one of those chapters which should never have existed but a few little snapshots just blossomed out of my control and before I knew it I loved them and they became Vital For Plot Reasons. Ah well, enjoy the meandering anyway :D

(What went before)

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Estera’s boot hit a loose patch of stones and she skidded slightly, putting out a protective arm just in case she was about to face plant the ground. Almost immediately a hand caught that arm and lifted her square on to her feet. She turned to see her friend alongside her on the narrow path, eyes full of concern. The edge of the cliff crumbled a little under his foot and her heart stopped for a moment.

“Scott! It’s not wide enough!”

He hopped back in line behind her and she regained the ability to breathe.

Mostly.

Eventually.

That particular flavour of adrenaline was not one she craved but she was beginning to wonder whether it was one she might have to get used to.

The group finally reached the car park to meet Gary on the quad bike who had towed the kit trailer up the long way from the beach. They all set to unloading and eventually Scott and three others lifted the quad itself into the back of van.

He walked over to where Estera was doling out the last bottles of sugary carbonated beverages to the rest of the group. He wiped the grease from his hands on to his trousers before selecting a bottle of water and draining it. Then swiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Well that’s one way to warm up after freezing your butt off in the Arctic Ocean.”

“As I’ve already told you, Mr Remedial-Geography, The English Channel is very much temperate.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” He removed his warm jumper and Estera nearly choked on her cherry cola as she realised Scott hadn’t just turned up in randomly fancy trousers.

“A silk waistcoat? Really?!”

He pouted. “I was here for a Board Meeting! SOMEBODY didn’t mention the nature of their “commitment” when inviting me along!”

“In fairness Dawn didn’t give me a lot of time to explain.”

“Ah, yeah… sorry about Dawn… she…”

“She was lovely.” Estera said firmly, not wanting to get the enthusiastic young person into any trouble.

She looked again at the trousers which had clearly suffered from being drowned in salt water earlier and were drying into a faded mess of wrinkles.

“That is not a cheap machine washable suit from the high street is it?”

He coughed. “I don’t recall Jennifer mentioning that as a feature, err, no.”

Her curiosity must have showed as he hurried to explain. “My EA at TI. Apparently the selection of ‘business attire appropriate to my position’” the air quotes were heavy “is not one of my strengths so I just let her get on with it.”

“She’s not going to be happy with you.”

“Hmm… I’ve done worse. And hey, the pants might be a lost cause but the shirt will wash, I cleverly left the jacket in the car and the vest is spotless, look!” He held the edges of the waistcoat out for her approval, much as a small child might show off how tidily they had eaten their dinner. Estera was about to wittily point this out when she was arrested by an ominous “whoopsadaisy!” and an unmistakable fizzing sound as the person standing behind Scott clearly forgot about what happened to cola bottles on quad bikes. A fine spray of sugary drink settled over both of them and Scott looked up from his now-slightly-less spotless clothing to catch her eye. She bit her lip and snorted slightly. There was a beat and then both of them dissolved into giggles.

“Tez! A word?!”

Gary underlined his sharp summons with a frantic waving of his iPad. Scott elbowed her gleefully:

“Oooooh, what did you do now, huh, Tez?

“Argh, please don’t adopt that one” she gasped, trying to compose herself “I haven’t the heart to tell them it’s awful… but… it’s awful!”

Scott’s eyes sparkled mischievously as Gary repeated his call with a desperate, slightly cracked edge to his voice so she had mercy and went to see what was bothering him.

Gary gesticulated wildly with the tablet, nearly taking her eye out.

“DID YOU KNOW?” he hissed.

“Did I know what?”

He stabbed his index finger at the screen which showed what appeared to be Scott Tracy’s Wikipedia page.

“Ah. Um, so… err… yes?”

“Are you telling me I made the Chief Thunderbird… the guy with the jet pack and all the… the insane stunts… I made HIM do the BEGINNER’S E-LEARNING?” Gary’s voice had risen to a barely audible squeak.

“I don’t think he minded?”

“I was giving him tips on judging the windspeed at the top, Tez.” Gary looked as if he was going to cry “What if they were bad tips? He flies a rocket plane… my kids have posters of him on their wall…” he whacked the iPad repeatedly into his forehead and groaned “They are gonna disown me.”

Estera tried to prise the tablet from his hands before he cracked the screen with his face.

“Everything ok over here?” Scott materialised behind Gary and the poor man froze, all colour immediately vanishing from his face.

“Gary was just telling me that his kids are huge fans of yours.”

The slightest frown crossed Scott’s face before he closed his eyes and chuckled “I forgot to use the pseudonym didn’t I? Oops. Sorry to have caused any alarm!”

Gary shook his head mutely and gave a double thumbs up, losing his grip on the iPad as he did so. Scott shot out a hand and caught it.

“May I borrow this for a second?”

Gary nodded furiously then covered his face with his hands. Scott tapped the screen a couple of times before raising his eyebrows in surprise. He hurriedly straightened his hair then cleared his throat and said:

“Scott Tracy here, reporting from the breathtaking Beer Head in Devonshire UK. I’ve been refreshing my skills today with this incredible instructor” he dragged Gary into shot “who is an absolute legend and if he ever told me to clean my room or get my homework done I would absolutely do that. Straight away. Thunderbird One out.”

He finished with a wink and handed the tablet back and clapped Gary on the shoulder. “Been a pleasure to meet you, Gary, thanks for letting me take part this afternoon. Hope I wasn’t too much trouble.”

“You’re welcome” came the slightly breathy response. Estera noted the starry eyes and felt they’d best get out of there before Gary did something drastic… like propose.

“Coffee?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

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They made it to the cafe as the barista was putting the chairs up on the tables. Without looking round she informed them it was still too early in the season to expect late opening and her shift had finished 10 mins ago. Scott, already trying to remember whether there’d been any other likely places he’d passed on the drive down, smiled kindly as the harassed-looking woman looked up and he thanked her anyway.

“Wait! I guess I could do you something to take away?”

Estera seemed most entertained by the sudden change of heart but Scott couldn’t quite figure out why. Maybe it was a local thing.

Two triple shot cappuccinos (and a “Really? Triple? Are you sure?”) later, they were stood at the bus stop trying to establish whether it was running late, or Estera had just missed it. The wind had got up and she was now shivering in her damp clothes despite him insisting she wear his big coat.

“I could always drop you back home or… or near home?” He offered tentatively, not wanting to overstep given how upset she’d been before. “Or anywhere you like really.”

“Oh, but it would be a long way out of your way…”

“Not really. I’m not in a rush. And it is my fault you got soaked earlier.”

“That may be true…” she seemed to ponder and looked over at the digital tracker which was now displaying 55 minutes. She shivered and lifted her jaw. “Um, yes please, if you really don’t mind?”

“Come on then. Hope I picked the model with heated seats!”

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Scott hummed to himself quietly as he drove. Estera watched the hedges fly by and wondered how long it had been since she’d accepted a lift from someone like this. She generally felt safer taking the bus so this was… different. Not that she felt in any way unsafe, now. Just, exposed. What was one meant to do as a passenger? Talk about frivolous subjects to pass the time but not distract the driver too much, she reasoned. All small talk fled from her head and she suddenly felt inadequate and a little dizzy. Her hands tightened reflexively around the coffee cup.

“You doing ok?”

Just as before when he’d asked that simple question in that same disarmingly soft voice, she was unable to quickly formulate a convincing lie and the truth leaked out before she realised it.

“Just a sudden giddy moment.”

“I’m not making you motion sick, am I? I’ll slow down.”

“You’re fine, honestly. I just… let my thoughts get away from me. Please don’t let me distract you.”

“You’re not distracting me.”

She noticed he’d slowed down anyway.

She watched him out the corner of her eye and realised with a jolt how much better he looked than the last time she’d seen him in the flesh. Or rather, perhaps, how ill he had looked before. Whereas on the day the cave collapsed on them she’d guessed he was in his 40s, he now seemed no older than she was, possibly a little younger. Aside from the scattered silver at his temple, slightly darker shadowed eyes and a certain leanness to his jawline, he really didn’t seem much different now to the young man who had saved her life the first time. Which was slightly eerie. She knew she’d aged a lot in the intervening period.

She found herself wondering again what it was he’d been recovering from, what illness could have hit him so hard. He’d not volunteered the information, in fact he’d very obviously skated around naming it so it would be rude to ask. It was gnawing at her for some reason though. Definitely not light hearted car conversation anyway so she cast about for something else.

They came out of the trees and for a moment the early evening light highlighted the edge of the fading yellow bruise across the left side of his cheek and head. In the absence of any other ideas, she said:

“It must have been a very impressive black eye you had there?”

“Ugh can you still tell? It seems to have taken an age to fade this time. Maybe I’m getting old” he chuckled.

“This time? It happens a lot?”

“Heh… occupational hazard. I think Virgil’s broken more bones but I’ve probably got the concussion record.”

“Goodness that’s a bit worrying. Don’t you have helmets to help prevent that?”

“Yeeees. Sometimes even with it on if something heavy hits you…”

“Or you fall 20 storeys?”

“Yeah… they can only do so much.”

There was a little pause before he carried on.

“To be fair to our engineer I didn’t actually get concussed this time round so it did a pretty great job.” He looked slightly guilty “Actually to be one hundred percent fair to our engineer, who is a literal genius, it mostly happens when I take it off. Because sometimes it’s easier to talk to people that way, you know? But then of course I end up leaving it somewhere and so obviously then it’s not handy when I need to dive back into something which has… very occasionally proved to be an error.” He glanced over at her and did that schoolboy-been-caught-out cringe again. “Hence the concussion scorecard.” Scott refocused on the road and gave a wry half-smile “Virg is constantly telling me off for it.”

“I don’t blame him! You should listen to him and keep your helmet on, Scott!”

“Yes, Miss.”

“I’m serious! What would you say to Alan?”

“He’s still a child.”

“Ok, Virgil then?”

Scott was quiet for a minute as he approached a junction and indicated left before accelerating away again a little more aggressively than before. He sighed.

“It’s different.”

“How’s it different? Given the concussion record your head doesn’t seem to be any harder? Why are you taking less care of yourself than of your brothers?”

“I’m not. I just react in the way that seems best at the time. Sometimes that involves taking risks to help people.” He sat up a little straighter in the driver’s seat. “That’s my job.”

She frowned, the odd moment from earlier suddenly sharpening into focus.

“When I skidded on the gravelly bit on the cliff path… you nearly overbalanced yourself trying to catch me but I didn’t need catching. I was nowhere near the edge. Worst that could have happened to me there was a grazed knee. You could have gone over!”

His voice changed and became firmer, more authoritative. “You might have been injured. I couldn’t take that chance.”

“Of a minor injury versus potentially something serious happening to you?” She could hear her voice starting to rise a little and wrestled to keep it calm and conceal the sudden sense of horror that was bubbling under the surface.

“I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for me, Scott. Not… not…”

The next word wouldn’t come out. But he’d clearly heard it anyway and twitched irritably, staring silently ahead, eyebrows furrowed. Well she’d put her foot in it now, might as well finish making the point.

“It’s not your job to keep me safe.”

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#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Estera #tb Estera #scott tracy #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #poor Gary #the dimples take another victim #maybe two #light hearted car conversation or maybe not #suit whump

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