#now i can put the actual tracks in my playlist

[moon-ursidae]

THE LAST OF US HBO SOUNDTRACK IS OUT!!!! I REPEAT IT IS OUT!!!

#i know what’s gonna be 1 on my wrapped this year LMAO #i’m so fucking excited #now i can put the actual tracks in my playlist #HAHAHAHAHA >:) #the last of us #tlou #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo

[f1goat]

more than friends ; lando norris + part ten

In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.

masterlist - playlist

fem!y/n x lando norris

warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.

requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine

“You’re insane,” Oscar tells his teammate when he sees you walking towards Lando and him. “Actually insane,” he mutters when he gets an even closer look on you. When you feel Oscar his eyes on you, you know for sure what he’s looking at. He looks at the same thing that everyone else is looking at when they see you. Lando his love bites. Why did he even leave them so out in the open? You tried to cover them up with make up, but it didn’t work. If you brought a turtle neck with you, you would have worn it for sure right now. But since you’re in another hot country, you only have summer clothes with low necklines. Which means that everyone can see the marks on your skin that Lando made two days earlier. You curse him for leaving them on this place, but you continue to walk closer to him. 

“Insane?” Lando asks Oscar. He notices the way his teammate looks at you. 

“Is this to show Pierre that she’s taken or something stupid like that?” Oscar continues to scold Lando. He didn’t even think about it like that, but now that he does… The hickeys might help with Pierre backing off a bit. “You can’t claim something you don’t own,” Oscar sighs, “just remember that before you do more stupid shit.”

Before Lando can say anything to Oscar, you’re already standing in front of them. He notices the way you try to cover the hickeys with you hair, but he stills sees the red love bites. Now that he thinks about it, let everyone see them - maybe then everyone will figure out that you belong to him. 

“Hey baby,” Lando greets you.

“Don’t baby me, I’m mad at you,” you sigh, “I should have brought a turtleneck with me. Everyone is looking at me.”

“Sorry,” Lando jokes. He watches around you and notices the way people are watching at you. You’re right. Everyone is paying attention to you. He notices some press workers as well. Normally the track isn’t busy on Wednesdays, but today seems different. He hears cameras clicking. Are people taking pictures of you? He starts to stress a bit. Lando pulls you closer to himself and drapes his arm around your shoulder, using it to hide your hickeys a bit more. 

“I might have a crewneck sweater laying here somewhere,” Lando tells you. 

You nod at Lando. Together you walk inside the McLaren motorhome. You notice the way even some mechanics are watching you. You’re going to kill Lando. This is all his fault. Lando doesn’t pay attention to them, he takes your hand and pulls you with him the his drivers room. There you finally get his sweater. You’re quick to put it on. Happily you watch in the mirror, almost no love bite is still visible now. The sweater is way too hot, but you rather become sweaty then have people look at you for the whole day. You can only hope they’ll fade away quickly. In silence the two of you walk back to the track. 

Together with Lando you’re strolling on the track. It’s relaxing to walk around with him like this. Lando is holding your hand. You like the peaceful silence between you two right now. It feels comfortable and relaxing. You realize that you don’t feel like this around other people. Lando has always been your safe place. It reminds you about how special things are between Lando and you, but it reminds you most about how you can’t fuck things up between you two. 

Your feelings are already coming in the way. They have always done, but since you have been experiencing the sexual stuff with him it has become worse. Maybe it’s because you have a tiny bit of hope that Lando also feels something for you. It’s the first time you have ever had that hope. Partly because of his jealousy, that must mean something right? But still, you wonder if it’s worth it if it can also ruin your friendship? What if you’re wrong and Lando doesn’t feel the same? 

When Lando grabs your hand, he pulls you out of your thoughts. “Don’t look to fast,” he says, “but I think Pierre is coming this way.” Fuck. You’re not in the mood for that. Slowly you watch around you, it doesn’t take you long to see that Lando is right. Pierre is walking towards the two of you. In only a couple seconds he’s standing in front of you. 

“You could have told me,” Pierre says to Lando without any context. 

“Told you what?” Lando asks confused. 

“Come on,” Pierre sighs, “All the gossip accounts are full with it. The two of you are dating.”

“Sorry?” You ask confused, “Are gossip accounts stating that we’re dating?”

“Yes!”

You let out a sigh. Gossip accounts have always been a thing. They always suspect that there’s something going on between Lando and you, but they never had any proof. You drop Lando his hand. This is a mess. You don’t even want to see your socials right now, they’re probably full with hate. Fuck. 

“Since when do you believe gossip accounts?” Lando asks Pierre.

“Since she has been spotted with hickeys all over her and she’s now wearing one of your crewneck sweaters,” Pierre answers annoyed, “I don’t get it why you didn’t tell me. I made a fool of myself by asking her on a date. You could have said something.”

“I told you that you weren’t her type.”

Lando continues to argue with Pierre. You on the other hand can only wonder when the gossip accounts are going to share the pictures of your love bites. Fuck, what are ‘fans’ going to do then? You grab your phone and look at the way your notifications are already blowing up. Reactions keep coming, you read a couple of them. Most of them are calling you a slut. Whenever you see a nice one, there are more negative ones beneath them. You search on a gossip page, wondering what they already posted. Then you see one of the pictures.

It’s you in your former outfit. The hickeys on your neck and collar are hard to miss. Suddenly you start to feel watched. It feels like everyone around you is looking at you. 

“You should have told me that you two are dating,” Pierre scoffs angrily.

“We’re not,” you sigh. It’s the first time that you’re saying something again. “And even if we were, it’s none of your business. Can you take me back to the motorhome Lando?”

When you’re finally back in Lando his drivers room, you grab your phone again. Your notifications are blowing up. It seems like everyone is talking about Lando and you dating. You have never gotten this many comments under a Instagram post, you’re above a thousand now on your most recent post. You try to read as many as you can, but a lot of them are the same. People are calling you a slut for “parading” around the track with the hickeys. Others are saying that Lando deserves better, that you’re only with him for the fame. As if you weren’t with him before he even started in Formula One. Sometimes you read a positive comment. Some people seem to like it that Lando and you are “finally” together, not that it’s true. Some people are even reacting about the true love between you two. All of it makes you sad. You don’t even notice the tears that are falling down on your cheeks, until Lando wipes a couple of them away.

Lando doesn’t know how to act. He takes you into his arms and tries to comfort you as much as he can manage. He doesn’t know what is wrong, but he can guess. When Pierre said something about the gossip accounts, he didn’t even think about the consequences for you from those accounts, but now he remembers. Every time they post about you, your notifications are blowing up. People know how to find your Instagram and how to leave horrible comments. He doesn’t even want to read it. 

“Nothing of what they’re saying is true babygirl,” Lando shushes. You let out a soft sob. “Everyone thinks I’m a slut,” you tell him, “or a gold digger or just an awful person.”

“You’re not.” He presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’re the most wonderful person I know,” he continues, “So stop letting this get to you babygirl, they’re not worth it.” 

“Lan?” You ask softly. He nods and waits for you to continue. “This is all your fault,” you softly joke, “fucking hickeys.” Lando lets out a soft laugh. 

+++

“Fuck, babygirl,” Lando grunts when you lower your body onto his. He feels himself enter you. “You feel so fucking good.”

You’re sitting on top of Lando. He’s not even more then ten minutes back from the second free practice. It didn’t went like he wanted to. When he got out of the car, he let everyone know about that. The moment he started to scold multiple mechanics you were quick to intervene. Normally you don’t, but Lando kept going on and on. It was getting too much. He really lost his temper this time. You wonder why, normally he’s rather patient. 

Slowly you move your body on top of Lando. This position makes you feel more fulled up then the first time. With slow movements you fuck him. When you let out a soft moan, Lando shows you a small smile. His hands are all over your body. He kneads your boobs while pressing his lips against your collarbone. Softly placing kisses all over it. 

You didn’t know what got into you when you grabbed Lando his hand while he acted rude to his team. He gave you a surprised look and even shut his mouth for a bit. When you stood on your toes to reach his ear, he turned all of his attention to you. “If you stop whining,” you whisper, “I’ll have sex with you in your drivers room.” Lando shut in within seconds. He even apologized to his crew before taking your hand and almost running towards his drivers room with you. Undressing you as soon as he turned the door behind him. When your dress was all up and his pants were down and he was ready to enter you, you surprised him one more time. “I want to be on top.”

Lando can’t stop himself from letting out multiple moans when you increase your pace. Faster then before you move yourself on top of him. He grabs your neck and moves your face closer towards himself so he can kiss you properly. His hands are still busy kneading your boobs. He gives your nipples a bit more attention by softly pulling on them. 

“Fuck Lan,” you whine when he pulls back from the kiss. He chuckles and let his hands slide down on your body. His lips are attached to your neck. “No more visible marks,” you instruct half jokingly, half serous. Lando grunts but moves his mouth a bit lower, making sure his new marks can be covered with summer clothes. 

You’re surprised when you feel Lando put his finger on your clitoris. He shows you a small smile when he notices your surprised look. Slowly he traces circles on the sensitive bud, making you feel all kind of things. You let out a loud moan. Lando adds a bit more pressure. You try to increase your pace as well, but you start to feel worn out. Lando helps you, effortless he moves himself inside of you. Picking up a fast pace. It causes you to let out more moans. 

“Fucking insane how good you feel,” Lando groans. He feels himself coming close to his orgasm, but he wants to feel you cum on his dick first. He increases his pace on both fucking you as on playing with your sensitive bud. Stimulating you as much as he can. 

“Are you going to cum for me?” Lando asks you, “Let me feel how good it feels to have your pussy clenching around my cock.” You don’t react verbally. Lando keeps talking dirty to you. “So fucking tight.” “Such a good girl.” 

“I’m close Lan,” you suddenly tell him, “Can I cum?”

Lando increases his pace as much as he can. “Please do babygirl,” he tells you. When he feels your pussy clenching around his cock, he lets go as well. When his cum enters your body, Lando tells you one more thing. “My good girl.” It makes you all flustered. 

+++

Days are going by quickly. Before you know it, it’s already Sunday - meaning it’s race day again. This is the last race of the triple header, meaning that after this Lando and you will go back home. You don’t know how to feel about that. Last weeks you have spent al your time with Lando, sleeping in his hotel rooms and being together almost every moment of the day. It has been extremely nice. You like living with Lando like this. That’s maybe why you don’t like going back home tomorrow. Then you’ll be alone in your own apartment again, without Lando laying next to you in the bed every night. 

“Good luck kiss?” Lando asks you. He holds his helmet. He’s almost ready to get into his car and to start with the race. You show him a small nod and press the standard ‘good luck kiss’ against his cheek. Like you always do when you’re with him at races. “Don’t know if that will bring me enough luck,” Lando jokes. 

You show Lando a confused look. What does he mean? Before you can ask about it, Lando presses his lips on your for a small moment of time. It can’t have lasted longer then a second, but it was long enough to wake up the butterflies in your stomach. You look around you. Did anyone see it? It can’t be. You don’t more negative comments on your socials. Now that you think about it, what did just happen? Since when is Lando kissing you in public places? 

Lando doesn’t say anything else, he walks off to his car. He can only think about what he just did. He realizes that if anyone saw, it will mean that you’ll get more hate. Maybe he should say something about it on his socials? He needs some help from his PR team. He wonders what’s going on with him. He just kissed you in a public place, practically on his work, where everyone could see. Since when are you doing that? If someone saw and shares it, the madhouse will be complete. He wonders what would happen if he would date you and share it online. People have been shipping the two of you for a long time, so some of them might be happy. But there are always so many haters. When he takes place in his car, he looks at the Alpine motorhome. He remembers Pierre his statements from earlier this week. Finally someone who understands that you’re not for him to take. 

He really should solve this problem and make you his. 

Then he remembers something else. Didn’t you have a date planned with some guy for after the triple header? He tries to forgot about it and focus on the upcoming race, but that seems to be hard form him right now. He can’t stop thinking about the guy who’s taking you on a date. Who is it? Will you fall in love with him? When he lines up to the start, he’s still thinking about the guy you’re going on a date with. 

You watch Lando race. All of your focus is on him, nothing new now that you think about it. Only this time it doesn’t feel like it normally does. It’s because of some weird feeling that you can’t seem to shake off. It almost feels like something is going to happen. Something bad. It feels off. You don’t know why you’re thinking like this right now, but you can’t seem to stop. You can’t take your eyes off the screen which shows Lando his car all the time. Multiple mechanics are watching the fight for second place, but you can only focus on Lando. Even the way he races feels off. It’s hard to say without any knowledge about it, but he almost seems unfocused. 

Then you see the reason behind your feeling. Lando misses his braking point. Within seconds he’s spinning into the wall. You let out a loud scream when it happens. Quickly you stand up and walk closer to the screen. All the attention of everyone in the motorhome is on the screen as well now. Everyone is waiting for Lando to say something. To let them know he’s okay. 

You need to hear Lando say something. You need to know if he’s okay. The crash didn’t look massive, but still bad. It doesn’t take long for a safety car to show up on the grid, leading the drivers. Many drivers are coming into the pit to change their tires. You don’t notice any of it, you just keep waiting for Lando to say something. The stress doesn’t leave your body. 

“I’m ok.”

You feel how you let out a lot of air at once with a relieved sigh. Thank god, Lando is okay. You watch how he climbs out of his car. It seems like he has no trouble with walking away from the track to get back to the motorhome. Within a couple minutes you see Lando showing up at the motorhome. The medical team is following him inside, you hear some talks about medical checks but you don’t follow it. All of your attention is on Lando. 

While walking to Lando you almost trip over your own feet. “Fuck Lan,” you stammer while rushing yourself into his arms. Lando doesn’t react verbally, he just wraps his arms around your body and holds you closely to himself. You don’t even notice that you’re making his race suit wet with your tears. “Are you hurt?” You ask him. 

“We would have known if he joined us for his medical checks,” someone tells you with an annoyed tone in her voice. You let go of Lando and look around you, only to see that the whole medical team is gathered around you. 

“You didn’t have your check up yet?” You ask Lando confused. “No,” he replies. “Fucking hell Lan,” you mutter, “Go with them you idiot.” Lando shows you a boyish grin, “Sorry babygirl, I wanted to see you first.” 

Lando and you are rejoined only a small hour later. He is still laying in a hospital bed. The medical team decided that he needed some rest before getting back out of there. The crash wasn’t hard and didn’t left much damage across for a few bruises and painful spots on his body. They gave him some pain medication, which causes him to feel a bit loopy. You’re sitting next to him, waiting until he wakes up. You have seen him on medication like this before, the Grand Prix in Las Vegas showed you how loopy and careless Lando can act with medication like this. You wonder how he will act this time. 

When Lando wakes up, he’s happy to see sitting right next to him. He is quick to remember the way he crashed during the race. He feels ashamed when he realizes why he lost his concentration and how it ended his race, such a rookie mistake. And probably easy to fix if he finally gets the nerve to tell you about his feelings. He feels himself getting mad at himself. Before he can think about it any longer you’re already taking to him. 

“How are you feeling Lan?” You ask him.

“Not great,” Lando sighs honestly.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you confess, “what happened?”

He can’t exactly tell you that he couldn’t stop thinking about you and the date you’re going on as soon you’re back in Monaco. That would be stupid. Although it is the real reason. Lando wants to make up some sort of excuse, but he is already talking again. Those fucking pain meds. 

“Couldn’t focus,” he confesses, “I kept thinking about something.” He can barely stop himself on time from telling you that he was thinking about you and your date. 

“About what?” You ask confused. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Lando quickly says before he can say anything stupid again. He needs to stop himself from confessing even more. “Okay Lan,” you softly say. You grab his hand and draw some figures on it. There’s a comfortable silence between you two. Lando enjoys your soft touches on your hand. He feels himself getting calm and almost falling asleep again. But right before he falls asleep, he can’t stop himself from saying something stupid again. He cam blame the pain meds, but he knows that he means every word.

“Babygirl?” He asks. “Yeah Lan?”

“Please don’t get a boyfriend,” he says. “And please don’t go on a date when you’re back in Monaco with anyone else then me.”

Fuck. Did he really just say that? How on earth will he fix this? Lando closes his eyes and tries to fall asleep instead of thinking what he just did. Lando doesn’t notice the way you have a small smile laying on your lips and how good you feel because of his words. 

“I already cancelled that date,” you confess to Lando, “After we fucked I decided that it might be a better idea to practice a bit more.” 

Lando opens his eyes and shows you a happy grin. “I don’t think you need a lot of practice,” he says, “but I’m happy to help.”

“That’s a deal.”

“My good girl,” Lando mutters before falling asleep.

part eleven

taglist: @booksandplushies @dinodumbass @formula1mount @words-are-cheap @allywthsr @inejghafawifesblog @chonkybonky @formulas-bitch @harrysdimple05 @vildetry06 @wherethefuckisthething @nonameishere @lauralarsen@meadhbhcavanagh @obliviatevamps @shy4turcs @fix5idiots @nightlockcornucopia @marialovesf1 @kapsylia @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @lanando4 @lauralarsen @leclercdream @agentadhd @rewmuslupin @allsouls-emma @iamshiningeuw @teenagedreams-cl@kiskso @loxbbg @vellicora @thomaslefteyebrow @avg-golden-retriever @amorydsmt @killjoynotes@barelytolerabled @starmanv @changetyre @kami10471633 @2bormaybenot @httpmrklee @buendiabebeta @aliceespector@ryiamarie @mickslover @sop-hie092 @miniemonie2001 @greymarvelskaikru @kapsylia@swiftiedrafts @thatchickwiththecamera @formulas-bitch @venisvendetta @t3a-3njoy3r @landowecanbewc

taglist p2: @chezmardybum @booksandflowrs @mineandneveryours @strawberryy-kiwii @noneofyourfbusinessworld @secretgal66 @trinity2058 @evieepepi08 @shutupmymomsc4lling @smiithys @nanamilkbread @hellowgoodbye @annie115 @random-1927 @sadmeal444 @christianpulisic10 @peachiicherries @toppersjeep @lovingaphroditesworld @kiskso @silentreader128 @lauralarsen @scopeiguess @trinity2058 @shy4turcs @moonlight-girls-posts @xjval @saachiep81 @leclercdream @adalynneva @swiftiedrafts @oscahpastry @customsbyjcg-blog @idontcare011 @f1fantasys @emyladia

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris imagine #ln4 #formula one #f1 #lando norris imagines #lando norris smut

[c0wb0ylikem3]

Our Song

•summary: in which mercedes drivers y/n l/n and lewis hamilton are to compete in another youtube challenge

•authors note: this is an old draft!! Not proofread 😭

•pairings: (y/n x lewis hamilton!platonic)

Compared to other Formula One teams Mercedes were not know for there social media presence, unlike other teams such as Ferrari with their infamous C2 videos and McLaren with there two drivers constantly uploading a new video every week. However when Y/n L/n replaced Valteri Bottas seat in the latest season the fans demanded more content with the girl and her teammate, Lewis Hamilton.

The rain fell as Y/n made her way to the Mercedes media building. She was told to be there fifteen minutes ago however she got caught up by fans who seem to find her anywhere. Entering the building she quickly said hello to the front desk as she dashed to the room she was needed in.

“Glad you could join us L/n” Lewis spoke and she sent a glare towards the seven time world champion. She was drenched, had no time to stop for her daily coffee and now she was supposed to film a video. “It’s not my fault I actually care for my fans”

He gave a look of shock and rolled his eyes at the girls attitude which currently was resembling one of a teenage girl. “Clearly someone didn’t drink there coffee this morning” she sighed taking off her jacket so it could dry off.

“Okay I’m going to explain what we are doing today, as you know during the beginning of the year we asked you two to create a shared playlist for Race Weekends. We are going to be testing you both seeing who put what song in the playlist” The media director explained pointing to the white desk with two buzzers.

Y/n and Lewis took a seat on opposite sides settling in as they set up to record. “Recording in 3…2…1” the director gave a thumbs up signaling Lewis to start the intro.

“Hello and welcome back to another Mercedes showdown off the track” Lewis spoke looking towards you “Currently I’m in the lead because I won the last two challenges while Y/n has only won once” Y/n playfully rolled her eyes “that’s because you cheated at just dance!”

Lewis retaliated “ How does someone cheat in just dance?! We are not getting into this again.” Y/n laughed continuing the bit “So today we are trying to guess who put what song in our 2023 playlist our lovely Mercedes admin will shuffle the playlist and we will have to hit the buzzer and say who put the song in the playlist”

Round 1

The Mercedes admin grabbed her phone and shuffled the playlist the first song began to play, Y/n heard the first few notes the song seemed familiar but she wasn’t sure. Lewis on the other hand knew what song it was “Too Comfortable Future? It has to be one of my songs look her face”

Y/n hung her head low already off to a bad start, although this isn’t a race she can’t help but be competitive towards any competition. “I don’t listen to future like that” Y/n commented before moving onto the next round

Round 2

The next song began to play and she knew it in a heartbeat. Hitting the buzzer Y/n beat Lewis by milliseconds.

“You know a lot of girls be Thinking my songs are about them but, This is not to get confused This one is for you” she sang along to the popular song

Lewis laughed at the girls actions “Best I Ever Had by Drake” Y/n said as she finished her solo “Obviously I love this song but Lewis put this one on the playlist”

The admin double checked before rewarding Y/n the points and she cheered. “Now we are even Hamilton”

He rolled his eyes “For now”

Round 3

Another familiar song began to play, this was definitely one you put in the playlist. Unfortunately Lewis beat you to it like you had in the previous round.

“It’s a Bad Bunny Song i just don’t know what song” he explained covering is face in frustration trying to think of the song’s name “Is it Tití Me Preguntó?”

Luck was now on the girls side as she laughed “Can I answer!” Y/n asked enthusiastically as the Admin nodded ‘yes’

“Me Porto Bonito and it was one of my songs” She smiled victoriously gaining another point.

Lewis sighed shaking his head “That was my other answer I should’ve went with my gut”

Y/n held Lewis’ hand sympathetically “it’s okay not everyone can be good as me” He pushed her hands back returning his attention the admin to begin the next round.

Round 4

The girl was completely lost when she heard the song play . She was not really into EDM music and that was her first thought when she heard this song it had to be Lewis’ song.

Lewis however looked just as lost until it hit him.

Y/n saw his eyes light up as he hit the buzzer “this is one of my songs right? ‘On My Knees’ I forgot who sings it”

“He shouldn’t get the point then!” Y/n exclaimed but she lost the fight nonetheless

Lewis smirked “we are even now!”

Round 5

“YOU BELONG WITH ME” Y/n screamed the song wasn’t even five seconds in as she hit the buzzer causing her teammate to jump in fear at the girls actions

Lewis looked at her in shock and disbelief, he knew she was a fan of the famous singer but not to that extent.

“I think she really likes that song” the admin laughed

Her teammate continued to laugh at the girls actions as she sung along to the song “remind me never to play Taylor Swift around you”

Round 6

“Right now we have the very enthusiastic Y/n in the lead, However this last round is winner takes it all” the admin explained

Both Mercedes drivers had there hands on the buzzer ready to answer

The introduction of the song already gave it away but the two drivers answered at the same time

“DNA Kendrick Lamar” they shouted

Not knowing who should get the chance to answer which driver put the song in the playlist so they could secure ten points the admin told them to play a game of rock, paper , scissors.

“Rock, Paper, Scissors shoot”

Lewis put our Scissors while Y/n put out Paper.

The girl let out a cry as Lewis answered “It was me right?” He smiled ready to win the game

“Unfortunately you’re wrong with means Y/n won the challenge!”

The girl who was once sitting in sadness stood up in cheers “FINALLY!” She cheered as Lewis was left in disbelief

“That was rigged” Lewis said

“Oh now it’s rigged just take the L” Y/n shot back

The drivers had calmed down before filming the outro “If you enjoyed this video leave and like and comment and make sure you follow so you can check out other videos of me destroying Lewis Hamilton” waving goodbye in waves of laughter the so called “short video” took atleast two hours.

Grabbing her phone Y/n looked up at Lewis as he was met with an equally frightened face, “Did you get a call from Toto too” Lewis asked

Y/n nodded “He’s gonna kill us”

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x you #formula one #formula one x reader #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x y/n #female driver #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader #formula one x fem!driver #lewis hamiton

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Me: don't make Charlie's habit of twirling / spinning Vaggie into a THiNG it can just be CUTE with no other headcanons behind it-

also me: what if Vaggie always loved dancing but took being an exorcist very seriously bc of the whole "learned to trust people on the battlefield" thing so the only time she felt she had an excuse for dancing with a partner was when she called it "training" or "unarmed sparing" and goaded Lute into doing it with her (Lute being Adam's second and Vaggie one of his best girls) (what, is Lute scared of not being able to keep up with her-?)

Lute: "This, is stupid."

Vaggie: "It's just like sparring."

Lute: "Then why can't I use a sword."

Vaggie: "The point is learning to read your opponent's body and move with it. A weapon only gets in the way."

Lute: "Or maybe you know which on of us would win in a real fight."

Vaggie: "OR maybe it's nice to practice WITHOUT someone losing feathers over it."

Lute: "Only losers lose feathers. If they don't like it they should start WINNING."

Vaggie: "Just put your fucking hand on my waist and do a box step."

Lute: "A what? Put my hand- where!?"

Vaggie: "Forget it. We'll dance like we're in a damn period piece ballroom scene. You can at least survive spinning me, right?"

Lute: "SPIN you?"

Vaggie: "Just hold up your hand and-"

Lute: "We look dumb enough as is! I'm not making myself look SILLY just so you can do a stupid spin."

Vaggie: "Fine."

Lute: "You need to watch yourself. Exorcist are heaven's first line of defense- we are the divine blades guarding the pearly gates. We need to keep ourselves sharp, focused- If you slip even once-"

Vaggie: "I said fine! I get it! Alright? God let's just, let's just get this over with..."

And then she's in hell, a year or so after Lute grabbed her wrist and pulled her eye-first onto a sword instead of a dance,

and it turns out the princess of hell is an eager and willing dancer, even if she's maybe not the most graceful or easy to follow- but it's the kind of challenge Vaggie loves-

(and not the only thing Vaggie loves)

-especially when Charlie's the one who cleared out a space, put on a playlist, and waved her into the middle of the room so they could laugh and bow / curtsy before making tracks across the carpet-

all of this, even though Charlie's still rusty at dancing, never was into it other much other than as another way to flail around to a beat, and here she is now, seriously trying to remember or learn all the different steps Vaggie shows her

this time it's a waltz

Vaggie's been avoiding waltzes. And sure enough she finds herself spacing out in the middle of it, coming back to the excited sound of Charlie's voice

Charlie: "I think we're doing it!"

Vaggie: "...hm?"

Charlie: "The waltz! It's been ages but, this is about right, right?"

Vaggie: "Oh uh, yeah. You've got it. Told you you would."

Charlie: (laughing) "And I told YOU if we made it through this it'd be because you're so good at making ME look like a good dancer! Even when my hooves keep snagging on the carpet... Even when you're a million miles away."

Vaggie: "Shit. Sorry."

Charlie: "No it's fine! Good practice for me leading!" (leading them onto a new patch of floor) "So! A lot on your mind?"

Vaggie: "Just remembered something, is all."

Charlie: "Waltz related?"

Vaggie: "I wouldn't compare this with that."

Charlie: "Aww, shoot." (pouts) "Well give me a few months and I'll get there."

Vaggie: (chuckling) "Charlie, you're already WAY past the last dance partner I had."

Charlie: "Wow. That bad huh?"

Vaggie: "What'd I just say about you and dancing?"

Charlie: "That at least I'm not totally the absolute worst ever?"

Vaggie: "Yeah no. Try again."

Charlie: (grinning) "I'm better than they were."

Vaggie: "You sure are. Actually trying counts for a lot, honestly."

Charlie: "You make trying things a lot easier." (hoof catches) (stumbles) (vaggie steadies her) "Case in point!"

Vaggie: "We really gotta remember to roll up the carpet next time."

Charlie: "Orrrr you'll just have to go on catching me!"

Vaggie: "I'll do that with or without the carpet."

Charlie: "Right!" (face hot) "Er so, were they clumsy too? Lacking in the whole smooth moves department?" (blushes MORE)

Vaggie: "The moves were fine, the ego got in the way a bit."

Charlie: "Ego?"

Vaggie: (sighs) (rolls eye) "Apparently twirling me would've looked too silly."

Charlie: "Wh- Twirling you?"

Vaggie: "Spinning. Whatever. They cared about that a lot and- I know I know- it's a dumb thing to still be hung up on."

Charlie: "Well I'd be honored to look silly with you!"

Vaggie: (laughing) "Okay?"

Charlie: "Can I spin you?"

Vaggie: "You really don't have to."

Charlie: "So we can do it on three? One. Two-"

Vaggie: "Really it's- watch out, table at 3 O'clock-"

Charlie: "-Wheeeeee~!"

Vaggie: "WHOA- that-" (breathless) "Now THAT was a spin."

Charlie: "Eheheh. Whoops?"

Vaggie: "Oh no, no whoopsing your way out of this one, I'm gonna need to inflict some payback spinning of my own." (grins)

Charlie: "Uh I'm kinda tall for-"

Vaggie: "You ever been lifted?"

Charlie: "I mean when I was a kid sure, but I'm like a foot taller than-"

Vaggie: "On three. One."

Charlie: "-Vaggie you come up to maybe my shoulder-"

Vaggie: "Two."

Charlie: "-not that you can't do anything you set your mind to, obviously! I'm just not sure how-"

Vaggie: "Three."

Charlie: "Hwha- OH!" (gleeful) (laughing) "Ohhh my gosh-!"

Vaggie: (smug) "There's more than one way to twirl a girl across the floor."

Charlie: "Spinning WHILE lifting!?"

Vaggie: "Fun right?"

Charlie: "SO MUCH FUN! Can we do it again!?"

Vaggie: "Sure-"

Charlie: "Ooh ohh can I do it to you too? Can we take turns??"

Vaggie: "Not worried about looking silly, huh?"

Charlie: "No! Why would-" (stops)

Charlie: (stops their dance)

Charlie: "Vaggie, I.... I really don't know why anyone wouldn't want to be silly with you. Or how it could ever be more important than seeing you happy like this."

Vaggie: "...Not everyone's like you, sweetie."

Charlie: "Or maybe everyone just needs to actually see you for once."

Vaggie: "I'd rather just stick to you for now. If, that's okay?"

Charlie: "Always."

(dance resumes, much slower, much closer)

Charlie: "It's, it's okay to miss people too, you know. I know, I mean. How much that sucks. If you, want to talk about...?"

Vaggie: "No. Thanks."

Charlie: "You're missing them though, huh?"

Vaggie: "It's not that. It's just, weird how much things change."

Charlie: "Like dance partners."

Vaggie: "Like your reasons for dancing with them."

Charlie: "....Oh."

(do they kiss???) (i have no idea) (maybe Vaggie just relaxes and rests her head over Charlie's heart) (maybe Charlie tries her best not to think about how hard it's beating)

(maybe somewhere up in heaven, an exorcist with a sword does a box step while training, slips, and slices her target in half in fury when she realizes it)

maybe Vaggie always loved dancing but had to end up in hell before finally getting to dance the way she always wanted to

or maybe

it feels like Vaggie never danced at all, until she had Charlie to share it with

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #lute hazbin hotel #silly headcanons #I DONT EVEN CARE I DONT EVEN CAAARRRRE JUST LET THEM DANCE #IM SO #THIRSTY FOR THEM DANCING!!!!!!! #ALSO I WANT LUTE TO SUFFER MORE #BUT MAINLY JUST LET CHAGGIE SLOW DANCE PLEASSSSSSSSE

[satorubi]

#2 : SLUT CERTIFIED ! — eren yaeger

꒱ ➛ CHAPTER SYNOPSIS : the first taste of sluttry.

˚◞♡ who ?? : eren yaeger x black fem! reader

˚◞♡ word count : girl…don’t even ask i lost track </3

˚◞♡ chapter warnings : minors DO NOT interact, mentions of female anatomy, fem! reader using she/her pronouns, somewhat bimbo reader ??? mentions of major asshole connie, mentions of player! connie ꒱ i’m sorry ꒱ , use of profanity, oral penetration, body worship, loss of virginity, mentions of reader crying, pet names such as [ mama, baby, angel, love, pretty girl ] detailed, slow-paced smut, a little bit of a cliffhanger bc i LIVE for drama. ˚◞♡ author’s note : we back we back we backkkk !!! hello and welcome to the second chapter :) BUT FIRSTTT !!!! THANK YOU FOR THE POSITIVITY YOUVE GIVEN ME FOR THIS SERIES I LUV U ALL <33 i know i’ve been very absent and i know y’all have been WAITING. i am actually so sorry, but my mental health was calling my name :/ BUT WE ARE DOING BETTER !!! last but not least, excuse any errors, you guys r the best and i hope u enjoy 🤍 reblogs and interactions are always loved and earns u a smooch

eren stayed over that night. not out of fear of waking you, or to avoid alarming you with the sound of your door creaking open, but because he felt pitiful of himself. if he’d left, you’d know something was wrong. he’d rather be petty and silent than obvious and pissy. besides, if he would’ve left, he wouldn’t have been able to wake up to the smell of fresh eggs, grits, and french toast with a simple side of fruits to top it all off.

eren makes his way out of your guest bedroom, nose following the mouth watering scent of food that polluted the air in your home, “goodmorning, rennie,” he hears you announce, still stirring at a pot sitting on your kitchen stove. his eyes wander, looking at the two plates resting on the kitchen island, as well as the two seats that wait for you both to obtain them.

“morning.”

“someone’s grumpy,” you say, watching him untie the bun in his hair and shake it out as if he were a wet dog, “i made some breakfast…if you’re hungry. you don’t have to eat it..but, um..”

“do you have sugar?”

“what-“

“for the grits.”

you awkwardly laugh, a bit put off by his straightforward demeanor, but choosing not to look into it too much. after all, it was 6AM — a sunday too. you didn’t blame him for lacking a bit of a pep in his step.

“o-oh yeah. um, it’s in the pantry, at the top on the left.” eren’s mood was hard for you to abstruse. you couldn’t tell whether he was angry, sleepy, or just being plain old moody, but deep down you’d hoped it was anything other than the first.

“i thought you hated sugar on grits. last time i gave them to you, you said you would never eat my food again,” you jokingly refer, but he only shrugs like before.

“people change.”

you build the courage to start somewhat of a conversation. this was weird. it was like a stranger was just walking around your house. you could usually hear eren making noise before you in the mornings when he chose to stay the night ; showering early, blasting his playlist as loud as he can to wake you, having more of the zoomies than your hyper cat — but now, he just seemed so .. quiet. eerily quiet.

“so, what do you have planned for today?”

he shrugs, “don’t know.”

the answer was simple, but it seemed to have given you more of a worry than a relief, “well, it’s gonna’ be nice out today. i also saw a strawberry field i wanna’ see. ooh! okay so, we can get lunch, go pick the strawberries, and maybe get icecream afte –“

“i have some rules to add.”

rules? oh, rules. the rules you abruptly created out of fear after he’d made you cum with just the simple movement of his fingers, “okay, uh, great. what’d you wanna’ add?” you wait for him to answer, watching him practically inhale the food off of his plate that you’d just placed down only a few minutes ago.

“for starters, we aren’t a couple, so we aren’t doing couple shit,” he begins, and you immediately want him to retract that sentence. you didn’t know why hearing that gave you an intense pain in your heart, but you hated the feeling, “like holdin’ hands, goin’ on dates, etc.”

“but we – we always hold hands, ren.”

“yeah, but you’re with connie. i don’t think that’s appropriate now, do you?”

oh. using your own words against you. how mature of you, eren.

“no, no. you’re right. i um.. i guess i didn’t think about that one.” you couldn’t look at him. you were almost embarrassed to. not only had you been the reasoning for this tension, but you were the one who was behind the master plan. you were the one who asked him to do this. you were the one who blatantly said it was strictly educational.

you were the one who promised yourself you wouldn’t take it further than it needed to go.

eren was just playing the part.

“i’m gonna’ hold off on the nicknames outside of the bedroom too. don’t wanna’ make you uncomfortable so i should leave all that to your boyfriend, don’t you think?” your tongue runs across your lips, unsure exactly what to say. you had no reason to be upset, especially if you were trying to pursue a relationship with connie.

“heard me?” he asks, shoving the last bit of his food into his mouth.

“you’re being a dick.” his ears raise like a hound, a bit taken back by the authoritarian tone of your voice. eren sits and watches you begin to toss the used pots and pans in the sink, not bothering to wash them — which was nothing like you. you’re turned around, back facing him with your hands left to pick at your fingernails.

“how so?”

“you know, eren, i actually think you should get going. i have a lot of errands that i need to get done before our next session so..” eren clears his throat and doesn’t say much else. your words left a bad taste in your mouth and his — you feeling bad and him feeling worse. it wasn’t that you wanted him to leave. if anything, you wanted him to spend the whole day with you, but knowing that the simple physical tendencies were no longer present in your friendship would drive you crazy. you found comfort in one another — whether it was a touch of a hand or a pat on the back, there was nothing else in the world that could bring you the clarity your platonic love resinated.

but that was gone now.

“when you wanna’ start the next —“

“i’ll come over tonight after my last class. that way we can finish this and i’ll be out of your hair soon enough, like you want.” your demure smile said everything you needed to. eren could read you like a book. he’d obviously agitated you with his petty choice of words, but it didn’t make sense of why. you were the one who wanted rules to begin with, and as of right now, eren could already feel a lump beginning to swell in his throat, “alright then. just hit me when you need me,” he forces out, getting up to grab his things.

you don’t reply, you only watch him leave.

“love you.”

your silence was enough to make him head to the door quicker. he waits a moment by the exit, out of your sight, but sticking around to hear you say it back.

but you don’t.

in fact, you don’t say a single word, at least not until he leaves and is already inches away from your home, unable to hear the slight sorrow in your voice as you wipe away a small tear, “love you too, fuckin’ asshole ..”

after eren’s departure, the house was more silent than it was when he was here. yeah, you technically kicked him out, but if you knew the heartache you’d get from it, you easily would’ve chosen the silently petty route just like he did. you were left to contemplate bout what you could’ve said and done differently, what you could’ve accomplished if you’d just been more patient with him. but then again — eren was cold to you this morning. he seemed to have let his emotions get in the pathway, causing him too to make choices he wouldn’t usually make.

and that’s why you felt the need to see connie. the connie who was the root of of the argument that ruined your monring, the connie who you’d grown so fond of. he was also the same the connie who had showed up to your home rather later than expected though. when you texted him a few hours prior to your class ending, he’d said he could be at your doorstep in ten, but ten turned to twenty, and twenty turned into an hour.

and soon, that hour became three.

you assumed he’d probably gotten caught up at work again ; one of the main enemies in your relationship besides eren. his boss seemed to always be holding him back longer, regardless if his shift was scheduled to end hours prior. it made no sense, but like he always said, ‘more money i make, the more i get to treat you like the princess you are’ — but anyway, you couldn’t exactly hate him for it.

how else would he be able to buy you those cute little pandora charms and pretty mini skirts?

you’re drifted from your thoughts as a notification illuminates your screen and you happily skip toward the front entrance of your home without even having to check to see who it is. connie — standing tall at your doorstep with a pretty bouquet of roses resting in his arm. the diamonds in his studded earrings gleaming in your gaze. his hair was buzzed a bit lower than it was the last time you saw him — now dyed with hearted patterns all around.

he looked good, as always.

“hi, pretty girl,” he greets you cheerfully as if he hadn’t just showed up almost three and a half hours late. you sit there with your arms folded, giving him that same glare you always do when he did these things.

“i know i’m late, baby. i’m sorry! y’know how it is. i just got caught up —“

“at work.” he gives you a sad smile, pinching your cheek and puckering his lips for you to give him a kiss. of course you give in, allowing his lips to press against yours in a quick peck ; which eventually leads to him backing you into through your door and shutting it behind him. his lips felt different — swollen almost, like he’d been kissing someone prior.

“new lipgloss, huh? i like the taste.”

before it could get too heated, your manicured hands find their way to his chest, stopping him before he could move any further, “heyhey, not so fast mr. ‘m still kinda mad at you y’know,” you say, running a finger down his shirt all the way to the hem.

connie kisses his teeth, rolling his eyes a bit, “here the fuck we go again,” he walks away before you can even begin to voice the remainder of your frustration.

“don’t be like that. you’re the one who can’t seem to say no to your manager. you don’t have to work overtime every fucking time she asks, y’know.”

here we go again indeed. he’d only gotten here no less than ten minutes ago, and you both could already find yourselves wanting to be apart, “i have bills to pay. working overtime isn’t gonna’ kill anybody.”

“well it’s killing me! i barely see you anymore, con,” your lips form a frown, connie shaking his head in response.

“and what, that’s all my fault? you’re always at school, or studying, or playin’ footsies with eren every weekend. i should be the one doing all the scolding.”

your eyes widen, tears threatening to spill from them as you swallow deeply, “get out.”

damn, yn. second man you’ve kicked out today in a row. look at you doing god’s work.

“what?”

“i said get out. i don’t wanna’ see you.” you don’t even dare to look his way, too angered and confused to do so. connie doesn’t even try to put up a fight. he immediately starts to grab his keys, almost as if he were waiting for those words to leave your mouth.

“y’know what, cool. talk to me when you’re done with your little tantrum. i don’t have the patience for this shit today.” those last few words spit fire straight into your chest. his words hurt, but seeing him walk out of that door and slamming it behind him without a care in the world hurt worse. the only thing playing in your mind was the painful scene over and over again. the tears that you had managed to suppress earlier had begun to resurface, your vision becoming blurry and the lump in your throat swelling harder than it ever has.

connie had never spoken to you like that before — the lack of giving a fuck very present in his tone of voice. you felt horrible, and confused, and almost regretful about letting him into your home to begin with. this wasn’t the man who was treating to dinner on a rooftop after your hard day all those months ago, neither was this the man who gifted you not one, but two promise rings for your birthday, or the man who you couldn’t stop bragging to your mother about.

this was someone else.

there was a tear in your heart, and fighting this alone would only cut it further. it’s funny, it’s like even when you’re angry at eren you can’t help but to think of him. you can’t help but to vision how badly he would’ve beat connie’s tail if he heard the same words you did.

so, you decide to shamefully push your pride to the side, heading to eren’s earlier than expected — and of course, when you arrive at his doorstep with watery eyes and a puffy nose, his disgruntled expression softens within seconds. you didn’t have to say much, or anything at all really. the faint sounds of sniffles coming from you were explanatory enough. no matter what had happened this morning, or what might’ve been said and done — he was still your best friend. at the end of the day, seeing you smile was the only thing that really kept him going in this life. right or wrong, argument or not, he was there, and he always would be.

anytime, any place.

“you wanna’ tell me what, happened? hm,” his soft voice rumbles, a hand burying your face into the warmth of his chest as you let the tears fall and stain eren’s t-shirt, “it was him wasn’t it?”

the two of you hadn’t yet moved inside. you still stand in the middle of your doorway, rocking from side to side as you let eren ramble on with his theories, “hm? what’d he do to you?”

you cut him off, shaking your head from side to side as you wipe your face, “c-connie and i .. w-we had an argument .. “ you hiccup, incapable of even getting the words out. he knew that. that’s why he continues to comfort you, even with the rush of hearing the devil’s name leave your lips and the amount of anger surfacing to the shore in his mind, your waterworks are the most important right now.

but trust, if he could leave and beat connie’s ass to a pulp he would, but to abandon you in this state would be criminal.

“what’s been goin’ on?”

“it’s a long story.”

“i got all night, love.”

eren was right. he did in fact have all night, and you’d taken that opportunity to tell him everything — connie’s lack of attention, his inability to care, the amount of stupidity you’ve felt for the last few weeks ; he listens closely to every detail, only responding with minimal to no noise as connie clouds his consciousness. eren couldn’t fathom how someone as sweet, kind, and genuine as you could be put through such pain like this. all you’ve ever done is give and give and give, and knowing an insensitive bastard could fuck all of that up for you made his blood boil.

“i just don’t get it, y’know. i-i mean he was so sweet to me when i met him. always wanting to be around me, making the effort to see me — i just don’t know w-what changed,” you express, fingers swiping away the tears that stained your puffy cheeks and swollen doe eyes.

he expresses his concern with just a simple huff, chewing on his bottom lip as he waits for you to finish your sentence. eren knew the answer. it was as easy as two plus two, but explaining it to someone as attached to connie as you would be almost impossible to persuade you to believe the truth — which was that he was just no good for you. eren wished — no, he dreamt you didn’t see his constructive criticism as jealousy, but then again, it was easy to portray it that way.

“he’s always been this way, yn — inconsiderate. he’s just gotten better at keeping it hidden longer.”

eren was expecting some sort of defense to come out of your mouth, but you don’t give it to him. instead, you obtain the somber expression of gloom casting over your usual sunny skied face.

as much as he wanted to tell you the blatant truth, eren quickly remembered that the power of words were truly bigger than man, “look, y’know how i feel about the guy, but if you really truly want my advice — from a friend’s perspective, i say you start lookin’ out for you. i know you like him n’ all, but you gotta’ start caring about your well being more. he’s putting you through hell right now and he doesn’t even have the decency to check on you.”

you nod because, well, it was true. eren was completely in the right. it was always about connie and moving on his time, but in reality, a relationship can’t ever even begin to work when both parties aren’t putting forth the effort. like the famous truth, ‘if he wanted to, he would’ but that was the thing with connie. there was no sense of want in this relationship unless it was coming from you. it was a hard pill to swallow, but these past five months with him had been purely carried by your energy and your energy alone.

if anything, it was a miracle he’d been around this long.

“i just don’t understand what i did wrong ..”

his blood boils all over again, a sheer amount of red on his flushed ears as eren can already feel himself becoming angry for the second time tonight. wrong? what you did wrong? how dare he — how dare he make you think so poorly about yourself? was connie insane — seriously, eren had to genuinely think. a woman having to second guess herself in general was horrid, but you? the woman he’s carefully watched sprout into a vivid, forever blooming flower since the small age of 9? the same woman who deserved the world in the palm of her hands?

nah, no way.

“don’t piss me off. for real, don’t.”

“m’ not trying to .. just think maybe i —“

“you really wanna’ sit in front of me and speak ill on yourself like you aren’t one of the most beautiful women i’ve ever laid my eyes on? and m’ not even talkin’ just physically — fuck that. m’ talkin’ spiritually, mentally — you don’t even realize your worth, mama.”

you let out a mix of a laugh and a scoff, “you really think that about me?” eren dramatically throws his head back, and places his hand on his chest, causing you to smile for the first time in a few hours.

“think? you serious? i know what i’m saying. he’d be a fuckin’ imbecile to lose you.” you don’t dare to stop his tangent, especially after hearing what’s to come out of his mouth next, “you’re sweet, you’re intelligent, charismatic, and prettier than you’ll ever begin to know. you’re ...” he stops himself, picking at the black polish on his fingernails, “perfect.”

you both look at one another, both of your eyes meeting at the same point as your breathing patterns become unsteady, the thickness of the air starting to become rather suffocating. eren’s words were delivered with such ease, and it wasn’t even in his usual, corny smooth talking manner. you could tell how much he’d regretted letting that sentence exit his brain though. his head was held downward, a scene of his chest rising and falling as the regret began to evolve into worry.

“you’re so sweet to me. ‘like you have a crush on me or somethin’.” your joke flies right over your head, because well, you knew damn well that would be one of the craziest things reality could throw at you. eren on the other hand, only lets out a forced laugh, playfully shoving your arm.

“mmch. whatever, mutherfucker.”

once your laugh diles down, there’s a comfortable silence in the room before you clear your throat and address the elephant in the room — the elephant that's been sitting quietly in the corner but had been aggressively knocking at the door in your mind over and over again for the last ten hours.

“eren..”

he turns to you again, those pretty eyes finding their focus in yours, “hm?”

“i’m sorry about this morning .. i should’nt have y’know .. kicked you out.”

“nah, it’s nothin.’ i know we just gotta’ get used to this whole thing. i should’ve just respected your rul —“

“but i kissed you back last night,” you interject, “i just…reacted badly, and i- i didn’t know how to respond to that. we’ve never been ...”

“that close before.” you’re eyes meet his once he finishes your sentence for you. eren’s were low, but still pleading as if he was waiting for the next few words that were scheduled to leave your mouth any moment now. yours were reddened — probably from the enormous amount of tears you’d shed throughout the time of connie’s departure, but also from the fact that you hadn’t blinked in a few seconds, not wanting to miss a single second of the sight of him in front of you.

“i’m still curious, y’know … i haven’t been the best student, but i’m still willing to learn some more.”

“i’ll do whatever you want me to do. just say the word.” his mouth was held open long enough to catch flies, and his steady breaths were morphing into a soft hyperventilation. you don’t say a word. neither does he. you both just send each other that look — the same look that was shared when he was on his knees devouring you not too long ago.

you take usage in his words, “i … i want you to kiss me, eren.” you’re scared to move. not only because of the amount of anxiety running through your body right now, but from eren’s physical reaction. he looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“but last night you said –“

“i know what i said.”

he tilts his head, eyes not leaving your lips as the rush of kissing them begins to come back to him. he missed it. he missed it so much, and god, what he would give to feel them again, “lemme’ hear you again.”

“i-i want you to kiss me,” you repeat, and you take notice of the look on his face. his eyebrows were furrowed, nose almost as close to yours as it was the night before, “please kiss me, eren.”

“again,” he instructs, and you do. you keep repeating those words until his nose is brushing against yours, along with your foreheads pressed against one another’s — both too scared to find yourselves as desperate for each other as you were last night. eren hears your whispers, the sound of your sweet voice begging him to kiss you making his heart feel all the more swollen.

“can i?”

instead of answering his question with a sentence, you answer it with the thing you’d been wishing to do for the past twenty four hours — you kiss him, and you kiss him gently. your lips felt like dainty feathers tickling his own as your hands found their way to either side of his face. eren doesn’t question you, because he too was feeling the sparks flying over his head just like the first time. he still had his arms resting on the back of the couch, not yet touching you in fear of crossing the line — although, there were about to be many lines crossed tonight, that was only one many that he needed to be worrying about.

you want to feel him, you want him to feel you, and you start to whimper when you notice him pull away for a split second, but you go quiet when he pulls you into his lap by your waist. you fit so perfectly in his grasp, his hands firmly gripping your love handles while you try your best not to hunch your body against his.

but that was becoming impossible.

his cock was right underneath you, hard and clothed — his deep denim jeans poking at your ass as you sit. you hadn’t yet resumed kissing, but this was far more enjoyable. eren’s hands rest on your thighs and the moment he feels you drag your clothed cunt along his lap, he groans — loudly, too.

the shorts you had on were thin enough for eren to feel your folds rubbing on him, and your missing underwear underneath didn’t do him any justice. he was trying hard – so fucking hard not to completely forget that he needed to take his time with you. there was only one thing stopping eren from pulling his dick out and fucking up into you like his life depended on it, and that was the fact that you were new to all of this.

the same realizations from before boggle his mind again, “please tell me what you want from me, yn. you’re drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy right now.” ashamed, eren shuts his eyes at the sound of his own desperation, yet you were equally as desperate as he was. both of you were fighting the urge from tearing one another apart – your reasoning being the fear of feeling those butterflies tumble around in your tummy again. it was wrong. you weren’t supposed to get those around him. he was just eren – your longtime, bittersweet, lovable bestfriend. you shouldn’t have wanted him in this way.

but you did, and you still do. and there was nothing in sight that could change that.

“i want you inside me..”

that’s when you felt a thump underneath you. you lightly gasp, surprised at the feeling but also aroused. something kicks inside of you, and you kiss him — yet again. eren almost immediately gives in this time, refusing to feed into his hesitation as previous. the kiss is messy and the motion is quick, but your hips – oh those hips, were moving slowly.

“you have no clue what you do to me.”

you nip at his lips again, “show me. what do i do, eren?” you keep winding your hips as you continue to taunt him with your lust filled eyes. your back arches and your globes poke out just a bit, the middle of your shorts pushing against your clit, “i can feel you. you’re so hard.. i-is all of that from me?”

that last line most definitely was your confidence talking, and although those jitters were still present, the power of your body taking over you.

“hold on to me.”

eren abruptly starts to rise up, and with you in his arms, he carries you down the corridor to his bedroom, which is on the right. as soon as you proceed in, you notice the distinct smell of his musk and a tiny candle burning in the corner of his bookshelf. your back touches his black, satin sheets as he lays you on the bed, making you shudder due to their chilly temperature.

eren continues to place small kisses all over your legs. you hadn’t yet seen his face since he laid you down, given how eager he was for his lips to be on your skin again, he was practically swimming in your aura, “you are so beautiful …” he mumbles, kissing your calf and up to your ankle. eren then gathers both of your legs, pulling you forward enough to where your ass was hanging halfway off of the mattress as your upper half lays prettily before him.

there he is, on his knees for you yet again.

“i can’t believe it get to touch you like this,” you close your eyes feeling his lips press against the pudge just above your pussy, too easily flustered to even dare look at him, “in all of your glory … bare just for me to see.” his lashes bat in a daze, a breathy laugh leaving his lips when he sees your hips squirm under his contact. you were so worked up, such an easy button to push — but time, time is what this would take.

“e-eren, you’re teasing …”

“am i? or are you too nervous to tell me what you want so much that you’re willin’ to sit there and let me frustrate you like this?” his pixelated eyes hold a menacing glare with yours, but you’re too busy trying to fix your gaze upon anything other than him. the way he was taunting you during your first time was sickening, stimulatingly sickening.

“i want you …”

“what was that?”

“ ‘want you eren, fuck! just do something already!”

eren releases a chuckle and pats your thigh twice, “that’s my girl.” after he says this he wastes no more time diving in. eren starts off with a wife tongue lick to your cunt, beginning at your ass, then slowly licking his way up to your clit before wrapping both lips around the swollen area. he had yet to tie his hair back, so to your advantage, your hands run through his coffee locks. you pull and scratch, making him grumble against you with pleasure.

you hate to admit that you missed the glee you got from feeling him lick you. but something so wrong felt so fucking right. it didn’t help that eren was practically a god when it came to eating pussy. he was treating you as if you weren’t still new to the feeling, but you loved it. you craved it. you needed it.

“t-that feels so fuckin’ g-good, ren- ohh!” your hips move in sync with his mouth, rubbing your cunt against his face as he follows your path, “waitwait – oh fuck!” you’re losing it, and you’re starting to lose your patience along with that sanity. he was slurping, kissing, licking and penetrating your pussy with his tongue and he had no remorse while doing so.

“awe, baby, you’re so wet … all that from me?” he mocks your previous words with a smirk, and that’s when eren slips a finger in without warning, and to be honest, there was no need to. if anything, you needed to be warning him for the messy orgasm you were tiptoeing around, “you get so tight when i use my hands, don’t you? so cute .. think you’re bout’ to cum for me already.”

“yesss! yes, i wan’ cum. i wanna’ cu-f-fuck,” his fingers tickle your gummy walls along with the impact from the tip of his tongue flicking against your clit — creating the perfect combination for nothing but pure bliss, “don’t make me beg for it, angel. just let go for me. give me all of it ..” his encouragement was doing its damn thing — the knot in your belly starting to untie itself on eren’s behalf. your body begins to convulse, jolting around and twisting all the which of ways he hoped it would.

“b-baby .. eren … i’m fucking c-cummingugh – oh!” eren quickly intertwined his hand in yours as you squeeze his knuckles for support through your life changing orgasm. you were too busy making the flesh on his hand turn pale from how hard you were holding on to notice the pet name that casually came out of you.

“yeah .. yeah, let it go just like that ...”

as he says this, you start to panic when you feel the certain pressure of your bladder being full. his finger is still working your hole, not pulling away for anything or anyone — not even you. eren sees your small hands trying to pry his own away, but he simply stops you by restraining the same hand pushing him, “r-ren, i don’t- i don’t know what’s — please, oh my ..” you babble.

“i know, baby. i know.” he holds eye contact with you, feeling your walls begin to tighten around his fingers yet again. that’s when he moves faster, jabbing his finger in and smoothly adding another to completely rupture you. his hand was cramping, but he could take that on any day if it meant he’d be able to see you fall apart, “you’re there. you’re right there, you feel that?”

eren’s question not only earns a loud whine from you, but it finishes you off completely. so much so that you couldn’t even pronounce a single word. the only thing you could begin to make out was his name, and even then, it was just hoarse whines and sappy gibberish. you don’t see it, but he does. he sees it all — the spurts of your cum covering his hand, the way your chest rose and fell with each unsteady breath, your eyes looking into the back of your skull with your lips parted softly — you were fucking breathtaking.

“good fuckin’ girl,” eren huffs, dragging his fingers from out of your walls. as soon as he does, he gently pets your pussy, soothing the sore area with his hand as he uses the weight of one elbow to lean over and place kisses onto your temple. your body is still coming down from its peak, and your vision was still foggy — but you still needed him. you still craved his touch like you had a sweet tooth.

“you okay? didn’t hurt you did i?”

“n-no. more, ren, i just wan’ more …” your pleading eyes search for his lips, and once you find them, you inch closer by default. eren seals it for you, pressing his plumped ones onto your own. you feel the same fingers that were inside you creep up to your chin, then lips — trails of your wet essence lingering on your skin, “are you sure, yn?”

you bite your lower lip and nod slowly, running your hand up and down his bare chest, “ ‘m sure .. please — i wanna’ feel you.” there’s one more peck shared before he gets up. rising to his 6’4 frame, hovering over your resting body as his hands scramble to remove his belt. one loop after another, your heart rate induces, seeing the v-line that threatened to spill from his pants as he finally reaches the buttons on those suffocating jeans and you’re forced to finally take in his physique while you wait.

you knew eren was built. he always had been, but ever since he’d taken on the job as a mechanic, you could see him gradually grow stronger over time. all of that heavy lifting and damn near bending over backwards to fix outdated and damaged vehicles good as new was a tough job, but he made it look so easy. it wasn’t until now that you could actually get a good look at him. he’d abandoned that coltish, leaned look back in highschool, now carrying the weight of broad shoulders and a barrel chested front. you couldn’t help but to stare, especially with him having abs sharp enough to be a blade.

“stop eye-fuckin’ me. you’re making me nervous,” eren shyly grins as he continues to strip off his clothes. what you weren't anticipating was the sizable cock that was about to emerge from his black hannes boxers in a matter of seconds. you watch as eren’s thumbs gently pull the cloth of the waistband over the broad girth that sits inside of his underwear. when he’s finally freed, you can hear him lightly hiss, and his dick practically springs out like a door hinge against a wall. it was thick, inches galore, and hard as fuck by the looks of it. your eyes follow the blueish greenish veins petruding from the base of him all the way up to the rosey, strained tip. it looked so soft at the touch, so pent up, so … edible.

you watch as he moves over to his nightstand, snagging one of the condoms from it and ripping it open with his teeth. as soon as you see him lower his hands to his cock, you stop him, “can- can i put it on?” he pauses his movements, a bit taken back by your question but not exactly opposed to it — the thought of your soft hands coming into contact with his dick was a vision he’d give anything to see.

“yes-yeah, go for it,” he nods, handing it off, stepping closer into your vicinity to make it easier for you, “do you know how to put it o – aw .. f-fuck waitwaitwait -“ eren didn’t need to finish his sentence, because once your cold fingers wrapped around his base he was in heaven. your grasp was so light, but the feeling of your hand on him felt so heavy. it was taking everything he had not to cum from the act of your touch alone.

you, on the other hand, were in awe, taking the rubber in one hand, holding his frustrated dick in the other while you ease the material around his shape. eren let’s go of a small groan, throwing his head back as his belly pokes forward and back in at the pace of his breathing.

you were amazed.

“oh my god ..”

so amazed that you didn’t mean to say that aloud, “what? what’s wrong?”

“nothing .. you’re just … big.”

he shyly, and nervously laughs, “what, don’t think it’ll fit?” if you were speaking by just the looks of it — no, it didn’t look like it’d fit. you were a virgin for crying out loud, that thing looked like a fucking weapon.

“hmm, m’ a brave girl i’ll be fine. i promise. i would tell you if i wasn’t,” you ease. eren nods, looking down at you as you blink your pretty falsies up at him with a smile on your face, “now hurry before i dry out.”

he shakes his head and laughs at your attempt at humoring the mood, but that laugh fades once you spread your legs for him again. eren looks down at you, looking at your sprawled out figure in awe. you still had your shirt on. no bra, so simple to see your hardened nipples through your baby pink tee. you looked so pretty, so needy, and so ready to take him like this wasn’t your first time around.

“i know you’re excited, but please, yn, tell me if i’m making you uncomfortable or if m’ hurtin you. i don’t care if it’s the smallest touch, please. tell. me.”

“mkay.”

“yn, for real. if you aren’t comfortable, punch me or pinch me or someth —“ ”

the amount of concern in his tone humors you, giggling a bit as you say, “i know, eren. i said okay,” he gives you his eyes once more before beginning to climb on top of you, your thigh being skimmed by the tip of his cock as he places both of his arms on either side of your head. he’s so close now. not on his knees, or beside you, or somewhere in front of you — no, he was right here. face to face so much so that his shaky breaths trickle your nose as he tries his best to keep his breathing steady.

eren balances back on his knees as he grabs ahold of his cock, tugging at it a little so that precum coats his tip and fingers as lubricant. you were already wet, but he needed to make this somewhat easy — he had to, for your sake and his. hurting you just wasn’t something he had on his agenda. so he takes the extra mile to make sure — a glob of saliva falling from his mouth and onto his condom covered base as he strokes it.

“f-fuck …” he moans, swallowing as his thumb runs over the pumping vein just before his tip, and once he’s done prepping himself, he sits his cock directly onto your belly — the tip of it stopping just at your shimmery-pierced bellybutton. he shakes his head from side to side, gassed at the knowledge of knowing how deep he’d be inside of you, “ima’ slide it in, okay?”

you nod at his words, and when you do, you wrap your arms around his neck, “deep breaths. take deep breaths for me.” you hear him, and you do what he tells you, inhaling and exhaling as you feel eren’s cock sit right at your folds, “i’ll give you just the tip for right now, okay ..” a whine gets caught in your throat as he rubs himself in between them, your wetness making a pretty sound that fills his ears with lust. he even taps it on the surface a little bit, a small ‘pat pat’ — testing the waters, seeing just how arroused you’d gotten from him and only him.

“m’ gonna take care of you, i promise.”

“you always do, ren.”

he kisses your temple, then your cheek and nose, “you ready?”

your chest rises and falls with one last deep breath, your head falling back onto the pillow behind you, “ready.”

eren hears your consent and it slowly begins — the first attempt at easing himself past that first barrier with as much care as he could. your body flinches and you whince, and almost immediately eren starts to remove himself from your entrance, but you stop him, “ ‘m okay, ren, ‘m okay. just feels so ..”

“different?”

“yeah .. d-different,” he looks at you for approval again and you give it to him, your eyes dropping down to look in between your legs as you see that you still have so much more to go. this was just the tip, and even then, it still wasn’t all the way in. how difficult would it be to take the full thing? no matter how soft his strokes were or how painless he could try and make the process be, eren was huge — and with a curve too. you’d be lucky if you got out of this without a limp tomorrow morning.

“we can take it slow, okay? don’t strain yourself, just take me slow … ” when his palm touches the side of your face, his thumb brushing your bottom lip, you almost immediately feel a tiny bit of relief. you nod and you sense him once more, his tip piercing your skin and leaving a sting in its wake. it was a painful stretch, no doubt about it. out of every account you've heard of losing your virginity, you can infer that after this point, everything really just depended on that individual person. you’d heard mixed opinions, and you’d always assumed the worst. but honestly, in this moment, you could only come to the conclusion that it all depended on the sensual nature of you and your partner’s relationship.

yes, you were in pain, but you were so drawn to eren that you wanted to push through it. “a-aah- oh my— fuck!” your eyes are shut so tightly that you start to see white spots in the inside of your eyelids. you feel eren’s hand reach down to your clit, trying to steer the uncomfortable stretch away from you by rubbing small, kind circles repeatedly as you huff and let out strangled whines.

“you okay? you wan’ me to stop?”

you shake your head, “nonono — just .. h-hurts ren.” he feels your nails clawing at his forearms. you, on the other hand, not even realizing your fingers were leaving deep crescent marks on his flesh. he didn’t mind it though, not at all. in fact —

“bite me. scratch me — do whatever you need to do, baby ..” eren’s forehead was already beginning to perspire as he spoke, and his hips were carefully advancing to slowly deliver you every inch — although, he was rather heartbroken to witness your reactions, “i just need you to feel good.” your pain was almost too much for him, almost enough to make him want to call this whole thing off, but on your word, he continues. he continues to watch your every move as your eyes sit on the verge of watering whilst his cock softly splits you in half. you heed his advise, lifting your neck a little for you to bite down on his shoulder and leave marks in your wake.

he continues to guide himself in while his palm rests on the back of your head, pulling you in closer into his neck as he whispers into your ear, “just a little more to go, my love. you’re almost – shit – there.”

“r-ren … nnn – f-fuck!”

“i know, sweet girl. i know.”

he kisses you to divert your attention away while the stray tears on your face fall to your lips, the tang of salt hitting both of your taste buds. you push through the pain and let him give you a little bit more. before you bottle up your next set of cries — he’s fully in, and when he is, you can see the small bulge in your belly from his cock when you look down. eren patiently allows himself to sit deeply in your warmth, letting your whimpers simmer down as you become more and more used to the full feeling in your tummy, “there you go. nice n’ slow, let it sink in just l-like that …” your mouth is held open, and the only sounds that can be heard from you were small gasps of relief from finally getting the hard part over with.

“well would you look at that? you did it, s-see?” he shudders, mainly speaking to you, but also patting himself on the back for not cumming within the first ten seconds of being inside you.

“i-i did, didn’t i?” your hand hovers over the spot on your stomach, rubbing the area where you feel him most. he watches you closely, he too, stunned from reality hitting him right in the chest like a wrecking ball, “s-shit, eren … ‘s so deep.”

eren jeager was inside you.

and eren jaeger was about to fuck the shit out of you.

“does everything feel okay? didn’t hurt you too much did i?” you shake your head, taking in a deep breath as you close your eyes, “you still with me, yn?”

“yesyes, ‘m here.” eren takes this as an opportunity to wipe your tears with his thumbs, sending a quick kiss to your lips while smiling. you’d gotten through the hard part, and now? now it was time for the highly anticipated fun, “y-you can start moving now …” eren hears your voice softly say. he gives you that look you knew rather well — that look of ‘are you sure’ knowing damn well you were more sure than you’ve ever been about anything before. you gladly give it to him, cheekily grinning a bit as you nod your head up and down.

eren gradually sits up on his knees, palming the backs of your thighs softly as he peers down at your figure under him, still snugged comfortably inside of you. he was plainly freaking out and, to put it mildly, astonished. when his eyes met yours, that’s when the air felt heavier than it already was, along with the same feeling of fluttering butterflies in his tummy dancing along to the beat of his racing heart.

he begins to move in the direction and pace you want, slowly pulling his cock in and out of you, scared of hurting you still even after hearing you repeat ‘im okay’ to him over and over again. you attentively observe his furrowed eyebrows and bitten lip, and the sight causes your walls to swell and pulse. the ache that had almost felt intolerable a few minutes ago had begun to eventually subside, leaving you simply with a tickling sensation now.

“god .. yn - fuck..” he pants, steadily swinging his pelvis straight into the back of your thighs as his balls slap lightly against your ass, “pussy’s s-so tight, mama ..” he wasn’t lying at all. in fact, you were squeezing him so tightly that he had to use enough force to pull himself out of you. he hisses, feeling the wind get knocked out of his chest by just looking at how well you were doing. he was so proud of you, filled with so much elation while being inside of you that it almost felt like a dream he would’ve never thought would come to life.

“ ‘ssss .. it feels — eren … please —”

“feels like what, hm? tell me all about it ..” the tone of eren’s voice is soft enough to soothe you some more, but deep enough to bring you to unintentionally clench around him. your warm walls smothering his cock, and your eyes watching him move in and out of you as your chest heaves.

“feel s’ full,” you babble and he hissed out a laugh. that’s when you spread your legs wider, feeling comfortable enough to get into the hang of it. although you were new to this, you found yourself suddenly wanting more.

“mhm, pussy’s eatin’ my fuckin’ dick up, isn’t she? you feel so goddamn good …” eren keeps his steady pace, delivering deep, slow, strokes to your cunt before sitting up to lightly massage your calves and feet. he keeps eye contact with you, and even though yours refuse to keep their focus on his, he doesn’t stop. he doesn’t stop losing himself in both you and your battered pussy, squeaking with every dirty line leaving his lips. your arms reach out to wrap themselves around his neck, and he easily picks up on your gesture — now hovering directly on top of you, balancing himself on one forearm while his opposite hand grips at the headboard above you — minimizing the weight of his body on yours.

“sh-shit — ouuu, eren!”

for a moment, there’s only silence in the room. besides your minimal breathing and eren’s small groans that he failed to suppress were the only sounds that could be heard through an echo. both of you bask in one another’s presence while you let the tranquility of the moment steer you of to sea. “h-harder, ren .. please, harder,” you lightly tap his shoulder with your fingers to gather his attention, eyes batting rapidly as you try to keep consciousness from the amount of pleasure you were feeling.

“harder? baby, you look like you can barely keep your eyes open,” he laughs attentively, looking down at the droplets of sweat beginning to fall down the sides of your face. yeah, he was right, you could barely open your eyes, but you had enough strength to flutter them and give him an annoyed, yet needy, glance.

a soft sigh escapes his lips and that’s when he seizes your request, pushing his cock further into you — as deep as it could go and then right back out again, a suckle being left behind. you whine — no, you scream, “oouh - fuck, eren, just like t-that,” almost loud enough to send a concerned expression to eren’s face, but when you claw at his biceps he soon realizes it was a scream of pure ecstasy.

“ah, shit. yeahyeahyeah, talk to me, baby. you’re takin’ it so fucking good ..” his tone is taunting and well past just casual dirty talk. he was digging deep, verbally and physically, saying shit just to bring a reaction out of you — curious of what he could say and do to make you squirm and sniffle around him, “greedy lil’ pussy. takin’ me in so easily on her first run — you’re bein’ so good to me, princess.”

“ren — oh my god … r-right there, right there, right there — shit, eren!” his words had gone right over your head. too lost in the the way he dips his hips deep into your core to even dare to speak anything more than a string of moans. your lips form a pout, and your eyes roll to the back of your head when you suddenly feel eren’s tip poking right at your g-spot — which, he proudly didn’t take very long to discover. you didn’t know it yet, but the constant pressure against your womb would be building up soon — creating a rather diabolical sensation for both your mind and body all in one.

“where? right here?” the question is followed by a strong, but still conscious thrust. slow, yet powerful. steady, but mighty — eren now driving himself into you right where you wanted him, “awe, baby, did i find your spot? like when my dick kisses you right here, don’t you?” you can’t speak, nor can you begin to fathom why on earth eren was making you feel so lightheaded. disregarding the pleasure and the present circumstances, you felt alive. you felt like you couldn’t get this amount of euphoria from anything or anyone.

it wasn’t just the movement of his hips, or the nasty serenading words leaving his mouth, or even those angelic eyes that held an untold story — no no, it was the amount of emotion he brought you. the amount of love he’s shown you. the way he held you with such grace and tenderness like you were easy to shatter. it was all too surreal. the feeling, the gestures, the warmth — everything .. he was everything.

“faster! faster, please eren — nnnn y- you’re so deep ..” you clench around him, your pussy sucking him in more and more as he continues to drive you into shambles. your eyes travel down, focusing on the way he had to pull in and out of you with more force than needed simply because of how hard you were squeezing him. with each passing thrust, you could see his tip poking at your tummy over and over, forming a bulge right below your belly button.

“aah, shhhit, gonna’ make me fuckin’ cum, b-baby.” he nervously snickers, trying to hold on as much as a could, and god was it hard. eren could almost find himself becoming overwhelmed. there were too many things to focus on — between your expressions, lustrous eyes, and small grunts — he could cum right then as he spoke.

“o-oh, so close .. c-close, m’ so close rennie .. please let m-me cum with you ..”

you have a siren voice, one of command and alluring undertones like you were singing a symphony to pull anyone into a trance — and that’s exactly what you did. you words had much power, and eren suddenly feels a knot untying in his belly, the same knot as you. you both huff and puff, whispering small praises to one another like you’ve been in love for ages now.

your hands reach the sides of his face, carefully pulling him in closer for a kiss. you feel him meet you half way, closing the space between you both by kissing you like you were an an antidote he so desperately needed. he tugs on your bottom lip softly, closing his eyes and melting into you as he tries his hardest to bring you both to the finish line.

“c’mon, baby, c’mon. cum with me — cum all over this dick,” eren unconsciously fastens his hips, sending strong, and now sloppy, thrusts to you. you feel him deep, deep in your stomach. so much that you feel the urge to push against his toned tummy due to the overwhelming power he had over your body, “nah, don’t run. t-take it just how you were. i know you wanna’ let it go ..”

“eren .. i’m cumming, baby … i’m cumming — oh god …” your eyes slam shut and your swollen clit is caught by eren’s thumb as he rubs circles over the agitated flesh. the wet squelching sound of your cunt was almost loud enough to drown out your moans as you find yourself shakily wetting up eren’s dick, “renrenren, wai — unngh!” your legs stutter closed and he opens them right back up, only this time, grabbing onto your hips and fucking you at an angle to carry you all the way to the end.

you push your head back deep into the plushed pillow underneath your neck, bawling your fists as the commotion in your stomach is finally fulfilled. there are tears in your eyes, followed by desire and pleasure — not to mention the creamy noise of your pussy sucking in eren’s dick with no problem, “y-yyes .. yesyesyes — erennn!”

he’s quiet — or rather focused, concentrating on your trembling figure while feeling his own orgasm begin to pool over rapidly, “fuckin’ christ,” he groans hoarsely, his hips bucking as he’s cumming deep into the condom that would soon threaten to burst from the amount of essence he would let go. eren’s body nearly smothers your own as he loses his balance, hugging you close as he finishes. he buries his head in the crevice between your neck and shoulder, drool pooping from his mouth and onto your skin as he tries his best not to go limp.

his thrusts are slow to none, body shaking from the overstimulation. you press your chest against his, your nipples still stoned from earlier while you embrace him through his climax. you’re breathing hard, and so is he — lost in one another’s eyes as a million thoughts begin to crowd around you both. eren studies your ancy hips that still wiggled for more as he kisses your collarbone, down your chest and all around your stomach. he’s still inside of you, snugged deep along your walls with his tip puckering against your cervix. you felt sore, yet still so needy even after cumming all over both his dick, and his fresh sheets beneath you.

“jesus .. yn that was —“

“so fucking good.”

eren nods, his wet lips placing kisses on both of your cheeks while his calloused hands cradle your head, “yes, so fuckin’ good — you were .. so fuckin’ good,” he holds you close as he pulls himself out, grunting into your ear as your pussy still clenches down onto him without much effort. once he’s out, woe and behold, he slides off his messy condom and tosses it into the trash can near you both. before you knew it, eren was heading straight toward the bathroom, with you in his arms — bridal style. he carries you straight to the tub, ushering you to sit on the toilet and pee right before deciding to run a mixture of warm and semi cool temperatured water.

“i know how i can be .. was i too rough? y’know .. besides the beginning?” there’s a puppy dog look in his eyes when he asks this. your eyes trace the small tattoos on his fingers, those same fingers grazing the flesh on your inner thighs as eren wipes away the made you’d both made with a hot cloth first. he looked so sleepy — and how couldn’t he be given the amount of effort he’d put into making you feel the best that you possibly could. he cared so much, almost too much — so gentle and patient, light with every touch and phrase.

“don’t think too much, you were everything i could ever ask for ..”

scooping you up again, he places you in the bath that’d been calling your name since he made you finish the first time tonight. he shrugs and shakes his head as a smile creeps up on his lips, “psh, you’re just talkin’ ..”

“nono, seriously. thank you for being so sweet about .. all of this,” eren attentively pays close attention to your words, his hands now caressing your legs and french-tip painted toes as he sits next to the tub, watching your lips move to the speed of your words — slow and endearing. he studies the moister of them, wishing to take them into his mouth yet again, “you’ve been so kind to me — and patient, i feel like i-i can’t thank you enough with words.”

he sits for a moment, letting you get used the to the water, but obviously taken aback by your words. he was already trying to detach himself from the emotions he could feel bubbling in his chest the minute he pulled out, but you were just making it so fucking hard. you were in his house, in his bathtub, and would soon be wearing his clothes to sleep for the night — and all eren could think about was how he’d give up anything to make this a regular occurrence. he liked taking care of you. he liked being around you. he liked feeling you and letting you feel every inch of him — but most importantly, and probably most controversially, he liked you.

eren liked you, a lot.

but to say that sentence aloud would be a nightmare. professing his feelings in the heat of a moment like this could lead him right back to where you both were earlier this morning ; awkward, angry, confused — it was too much. if keeping silent meant keeping the peace, then that’s exactly what he’d do.

“hey hey, i don’t need ‘thank you’s’, yn. just doin’ you a favor remember? if anything i should be thankful you trusted me enough .. y’know, with all this. i know it might not have been your ideal first time but …”

it’s quiet now, but you smile, “it was perfect, eren. it was nothing less than perfect.”

the clock reads 1AM and you’ve fallen asleep in eren’s arms yet again for the second night in a row, snuggled into his chest as the sound of his beating heart soothes you like a soothing lullaby. he listens to the sound of your light snores while inhaling the mouth watering scent of the vanilla body wash he’d used on you, dozing off a bit as he grows excitedly anxious from the thought of you being the first person he would be seeing in the morning.

there you were ; laying on his bed, under his sheets, in his arms. you were freshly bathed, courtesy to eren splashing you with water and bubbles during the two hour long bath he’d given you — most of that time spent talking about any and everything with one another rather than cleaning you up, but he didn’t mind it one bit.

there was moment where he thought he could really get used to this — feeling your body fall into in his warmth so effortlessly while whispering sweet melodies into your ear. he felt like there was nothing on planet earth that could ruin this moment.

well, that was until his phone rattled against his nightstand, buzzing with three rounds of texts and two missed calls from no other than the villain himself — connie.

connie fucking springer.

the first text could be traced back to when you’d first arrived at eren’s doorstep.

bald man 9:52PM

yo i gotta talk to you about some shit.

the second, you were too busy moaning out in pleasure for eren to even think about reaching for his damn phone.

bald man 11:01PM

are u alive? i know i fucked up at poker but damn bro

bald man 1:15AM

i know ur awake fucker. come outside your place im already parked. hurry up before i have to walk my ass up there and drag you out my damn self.

eren’s eyes flicker to the time on his phone, at the text, then back at you again, the time reading 1:20AM.

bald man 1:20AM

i know she’s in there. i saw her car parked a few spots over open your fuckin door.

#🏹 : saturn’s writing — #HIIII HIII HIIII #FINALLY SATURN DAMN LIKE #okay yall but we here fr #eren x reader #eren yaeger smut #eren x black reader #eren x fem!reader #eren x you #snk eren #eren yeager

[prettieinpink]

Notion page ideas !!

For my girlies that have no idea in what to put in their notion, this is 4 u !!!!

Weekly planner

This is so convenient for anyone who doesn’t like repetitive routines!! Basically what i do is that I assign a theme to each day of the week, then add tasks that play into that theme. E.g Mindfulness monday, healthy tuesday, educational wednesday, spiritual thursday, rejuvenating friday, productive saturday and resetting sunday are mine <3 

Weekly journal

Keeping track of the weeks in the year and how you feel about them is just so tiring on paper, so i decided to put them on notion instead. BEST IDEA EVER!!! Basically I just journal about my past week and what i except for next week. Heres the template I created that I use for my weekly journals !

Rate the week

Reflect (brain dump)

What didn’t go to plan?

How do you feel this week?

What good came out of this week?

What was I grateful for this week? 

Write down next week’s plan

How can I improve myself next week?

How do I want to feel next week?

A mini library!!

This is literally so cute I'm telling you, especially if you love reading or want to become a more active reader. Basically, you keep a record of the books you read, how long you took to read them, review them and keep track of the books you want to read !!

Music library  

Omfg this literally changed my life. Instead of just liking songs and following artists on spotify, I know keep tracks of my faves songs and artists. Now it’s literally so easy creating playlists that play into a specific mood + its just fun keeping track 

A wish&need list 

For my girlies that love to spend and shop !! Keep track of things that you need currently and things that you want to buy when you can. It’s so fun and convenient when you do actually go shopping.

Pt 2????

#personal development #high value mindset #the feminine urge #goals #personal growth #feminine journey #dream life #high maintenance #femininity #it girl #that girl #pink pilates girl #pink pilates princess #pinterest girl #weekly goals #success #notion #notion ideas #self development #self improvement #self growth #notion page ideas #notion pink #notion aestheti #becoming that girl #becoming the it girl #dream girl #clean girl #girl blog #girlblogger

[non-stop-imagines]

Girl Almighty

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Black Driver!Reader

Summary: In which Oscar is his girlfriend's number one fan and advocate for getting onto the Formula 1 grid.

Word Count: ~3.3k words and a lot of smau

Warning: Twitter environment, mentions of food, crying, parents (it's happy though 😁), goofy friendship fun with various other drivers, Logan being an Oscar and reader stan lowkey

A/N: Like all the other requests, this one was just the best to make. I had to do such a deep dive into Oscar Piastri history because I wanted this idea to really work. This is actually the first of the "drabble" requests I have received so this is the first time you guys are seeing how I'm gonna approach those requests. So if you do ever just request a general "drabble", no specific prompt, I'm gonna put the story to a song that I think fits, unless you want to suggest a song. I do have an 83 hour playlist on Spotify, so if you don't have a song in mind that's fine by me 😁😁😁 Anyway, I hope you all enjoy, especially after Oscar's DNF today, I think this little bit of joy is needed. Love you all! 💖💛💖💛

A/N 2: All of the pictures used for the smau portions are all from pinterest and are not my own product.

Masterlist

__________________~♥★♥~_________________

2020; Start of the FIA Formula 3 Season

   “Okay, breath, Oscar. You can do this.” The pep talk is whispered from Oscar’s mouth as he mentally encourages himself to walk over to you, chatting away with other drivers as you guys wait for the driver meeting to begin. He starts to take a step, watching his feet and taking another deep breath, but when he looks back up again he's stopped in his tracks. It was like a spotlight shone on just you, teeth visible and accompanying the exuberant laugh coming from you, smiling glossy lips and hair half up in 2 fluffy ponytails. Everything around you came back into view when he watched you reach a hand out to push the shoulder of your teammate, Theo, after something he said. Oscar could only watch, waiting until the audience you had around you tapered off one by one.

   “That’s her, right?” Oscar jumps at Logan’s arm finding its way around his shoulders.

   “Yeah, that’s her.” Oscar practically sighs, cursing Theo who seems to linger around you a little longer.

   “She looks different. A really good different.” Logan keeps his attention on you as he speaks, so he’s caught off guard by the elbow Oscar throws into his side. “Alright, man. She’s yours.” He removes his arm from his friend so he could rub his hurting side.

   "No, that's not-" Oscar's hands run through his hair to express the conflict in his mind. How, yes he wanted you to be his because he has had a crush on you since you both were 10, but also that he was trying real hard to not make a fool of himself because you've only met twice, once when you guys were 10 and once when you were 14. But both of your rises up the karting ranks, champions in your own rights, all the way up to your F3 debut has been public. So it wouldn't be crazy for him to tell you he remembers you, right?

   "Well, whatever it is, now's your chance. She's alone." Logan briefly points your direction and sure enough, there you were, tapping and scrolling on your phone, beautiful face in a neutral position that made your lips pout.

   "You know what? Maybe I don't-" Oscar starts to back track, stunned by you, but Logan turns him back around and starts to push him over there.

   "No, you've been talking about this for a week straight. If you guys aren't sucking face by the end of the month, I'm writing a formal complaint." Once considered to be within earshot, Logan starts talking about something random, something that goes in one of Oscar's ears and out the other, his heartbeat pounding in his head as he gets close. "Oh hey, I'll be right back I, uh, there's something over there…" Logan gives Oscar one last pat on the back and walks off. For Oscar, the world went silent when you looked up at him, enticing brown eyes putting a shame to his own, lips starting to curl into a polite grin until you get a good look at him, and tilt your head as you visibly began thinking about where you've seen him before. Oscar clears his throat.

   "Hi, uh, I don't- I'm, uh, I'm Oscar." He holds out his hand for you to shake. Your hand is nice in his, soft despite calluses that have developed from years of driving, but fit like a puzzle piece. He forced himself to keep his eyes on yours, though it was hard for him to look at you, an angel among men, without doing something drastic.

   "Y/n." Your hands linger in each others for a moment after the greeting, but once you pull back your hand you cross your arms and bring an amused smile to your face.

   "I don't know if you remember me. We've, um, raced each other a couple times before…" Oscar had no idea what to do with his hands. He wanted to touch you, so bad. Wrap his arms around your waist and push the bit of curly hair that escaped to your shoulder back to its place and wait for it to happen again just so he can be as close as possible to you. Instead he settles with rubbing the nape of neck with one hand and the other waving mildly as he spoke.

   "Oh, I remember you. But a couple times…I only remember when we were 10. Karting in Australia. I remember because I lost badly to you." You smile and he melts, and your laugh almost makes him miss what you said.

   "Wait, when we were 10, you finished second." He copies you and crosses his arms, that being his best bet of keeping his hands to himself.

   "Okay, yeah. By like 4 seconds. That's quite the gap." You look down to pick at your nails, but then jerk your head back up as Oscar's words come back to you. "Okay, so 10, but when was the second time?"

   "We were 14. Australia again." He uncrosses his arms and brings his hands to his hips when he sees the confusion on your face. "You won! You beat my ass, actually. By nearly 8 seconds. Logan got third." You thought about it for a moment, eyebrows scrunching as memories moved through your brain, but it was obvious the moment you remembered because a large grin that revealed a dimple in your left cheek spread across your face.

   "Okay I remember that. I also remember you doing, like, everything you could for me after. I asked you why and you simply said 'Because you won.' and I asked no more questions after that." You chuckle, bringing a hand to your forehead. "It didn't help that I had a major crush on you, too. I was on cloud nine that entire weekend."

   "Oh, you had a crush on me?" The snarkiness of his inquiry far from matched the speed of his heart and the drop in temperature of his hands.

   "Don't make fun of me, okay? I was 14, and apparently had a thing for Australians with floofy hair." You motioned at his hair, then replaced your hand on your hip. "I've since gotten over it, but I guess you'll be delighted, and me thoroughly embarrassed, to hear that you and Ashton Irwin from 5 Seconds of Summer took turns being my hand when I used to practice kissing." Something got into you in that moment, where it was more important for you to let it be known to Oscar the intensity of your old crush on him, like it would have any influence on your current curiosity.

   "Oh. Ha. Well, the feeling was mutual. But, I mean, what boy wouldn't have a crush on the girl who beat them at karting?" Oscar shrugs with his arms still crossed, head tilting toward his left shoulder with the movement. 

   "It's only natural." You both giggle at the interaction, the words and the timing.

   "Well, I think Logan, Frederik and I are trying to figure out something to do tonight, you know after all of the media festivities. Would you want to come? And Theo, too. I don't know what you usually do pre-race weekend, but…" Oscar trails off as he uncrosses his arms and places them in his pocket, looking everywhere but you, subconsciously looking for Logan so he knows what direction to go if he needs to make a quick getaway.

   "I think I can find some time to hang out with a couple of old fans." Your smile nearly knocks Oscar off his feet, literally, because after you accepted his invitation, he heard Logan calling for him, to which he automatically started moving in that direction making him stumble over his own feet, but luckily he catches himself.

   "Okay, good-uh, cool. I'll, um…I'll text you the plans once we figure them out." He starts to jog away, confident in what had just taken place.

   "You'll need my number for that." You stayed in place, arms crossed, smiling when Oscar turns around to jog back to you.

   "You are correct." Oscar gives you a beaming smile as he reaches for your phone while pulling out his.

drivetimeyn

Liked by oscarpiastri and 34,012 others

drivetimeyn Seasons Greetings 😌🎄 (you know, cause it's the end of the season and it's also Christmas and-) Oh yeah, congrats, Oscar 😚

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oscarpiastri You took a lot of pictures of me eating > drivetimeyn It was the only time you were sitting still 🧍‍♂️ swisssauber Who else is gonna miss this group? 🥲 theopouchaire21 See you next year, teammate 😎 > drivetimeyn Hope everyone is prepared for more shenanigans 😼

> swisssauber HAHA JK premaprincess Yn is the best thing to come into these boys lives. Convince me otherwise > oscarpiastri We agree 🌞

2021; FIA Formula 2 Season

drivetimeyn

Liked by oscarpiastri and 39,279 others

drivetimeyn Happy Birthday to my Pretty Podium Pal ❤️ Hope you have a wonderful day, my love

View 390 comments

oscarpiastri I get to see you later, that alone makes this a great birthday 🥰 Love you, baby 😘 > drivetimeyn Love you too, honey cake ☺️ > oscarpiastri That's new robertshwartzman Thank you again for those cookies! Keep an eye out for a request around my birthday 🤩 f2freak ...my love? Who- when... lecooleclerc And everyone thought I was crazy 😔 prettypiastri These two are too freaking cute, I can't take it 😵‍💫😫

drivetimeyn

Liked by artgp_official and 40,093 others

drivetimeyn Thank you for inviting your biggest fan. So proud of you! Have fun up in the big leagues next year 💙🩷

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oscarpiastri My stunning forever +1 💗 😍 You should be moving up with me but at least now I can watch you be great 🤩 naomischiff I feel like I'm always instastalking you but you're always stunning and this is no different. LOVE! 💗🤎💗 oscarnyngoals The way these two can step out, EAT, and leave no crumbs is impeccable✨ > oscarpiastri It's all Yn, I'm just an accessory > drivetimeyn You're usually more than an accessory, but when you are an accessory, you're the best one😘 ferrariyn I don't know what I'll do with these two not on the same grid

2022; Your 2nd Formula 2 Season, Oscar's Alpine Reserve Season

   "Hey, baby. Did you just get home?" You wave to one last person as you leave the Alfa Romeo facility in Zurich, harshly inhaling as you step out into the nippy mid-October Swiss air.

   "Yes, after a long day in the sim. I see you're just leaving, too. It's, like, 7pm there, right?" Oscar props his phone on the bottle of cooking oil next to him at enough of a distance so you can see most of him while he's cooking his dinner.

   "If it 6pm in Enstone, theennn…." You flash a bright cheeky smile at your sarcasm as you spot your car and head over to it.

   "I am not afraid to hang up." Oscar chuckles, briefly looking at the phone while his hands are occupied sautéing vegetables.

   "Yes you are, you love me too much." You unlock your car and quickly get in, recoiling from the slight relief that you got from the cold temperature outside. "You also know I could beat you in a fight." You start up your car and allow it to warm up, placing your phone in the holder on the dashboard and removing your coat to toss it in the seat next to you.

   "Correct on both points." He pushes his phone back slightly to open up the counter so he had somewhere to place the package of sausages. "You had a couple of workouts today?"

   "And a quick sim session and, uh, a meeting. With Fred." You put your car in drive and pull out of the parking spot that you had backed into.

   "You were going to talk to him today weren't you? How did that go?" Oscar was fully invested in what you had to say, to the point where he turned off the burners on his stove and sat down on a stool at the counter.

   "Well," You chuckle sarcastically thinking about the interaction, trying to bring yourself to talk about it. "It wasn't bad, just…disappointing." You sigh, looking left and right before leaving the Alfa Romeo campus and entering the main road.

   "Oh no," One thing Oscar has always done was sympathize with you whenever you felt a strong emotion. You were happy, he was ecstatic. You were mad, he was furious. So when he heard the annoyance and sadness in your chuckle and sigh, he wished he could jump through the screen to comfort you and ring the neck of whoever made you feel that way, which seems to be Fred Vassuer at the moment. 

   "I asked about the possibility of being a reserve driver or something for Alfa next year. He wasn't rude or anything, I think he actually liked the idea, but in the end he just told me to keep my head down and focus on racing. He also said that while it is nice to be up with the F1 teams, it would be a waste of my driving talents to not be racing on a grid next year, so I think that was his way of telling me it's F2 again next season." You flick on your turn signal and move into a turn lane, slightly more irritated than usual at the slow driver that was in front of you.

   "That's stupid." That was all Oscar could say as he set down the phone and ran his fingers through his hair.

   "But it was weird because, the way Fred was talking, it was like he had no control over what happens once the season is done." When Oscar picks up his phone again he couldn't help but calm down slightly at your driving concentration face that occasionally turns towards him. "Also, he has never been so adamant about me doing something as much as he was about me staying in a position where I can drive, even if it is F2 again. So, I guess I'll go with it, but I'm not happy about it." You stop at a light and lean back into your seat. You both sat in tense silence, Oscar waiting to see if you had anything else, and you waiting to see if Oscar had any words of wisdom or mutual anger. 

   "Let's go to Paris." Oscar's words shocked you, even more than the honk behind you that signaled for you to go before anyone got too mad. 

   "What?" You were tempted to pull over so you could watch Oscar's face as he spoke, to see if he was just kidding you, but you kept on heading home.

   "Next week. I'll be at the Viry HQ all week next week, but I'm off during the weekend, and I'm sure you are too. I'll fly you out there. You need to decompress from all of this." He stands up from the stool to head back to his stove, completely serious about his suggestion.

   "Really? I love Paris." You start eyeing fast food restaurants the closer you got to home. Maybe it would be too bad to stop for food.

   "I know, we'll go to that little café you like. Go to every park we can find. Go to the Louvre so you can look at the art and I can watch you look at the art." He smiles to himself as he cuts up a sausage to toss into another pan.

   "Why not just look at the art?" Your stomach rumbles as the smell from a restaurant wafts into your car as you wait at another red light.

   "Because, I think it's much more interesting to watch art look at art, and I think myself lucky to be able to do so." You knew this light was long, so you had enough time to stare at Oscar after his cheesy pick up line.

   "That was terrible, but…I'll agree to the Paris weekend. As long as there are more jokes like that." You start to drive again as the light turns green.

   "No promises. Bad jokes are my MO." Oscar pours the cooked vegetables onto a white plate. "On another note, I see your eyes looking that the restaurant while you drive. I was there when you were cooking your meal prep a couple of days ago. Get home and eat that so you can go to bed." 

   "Fine." You finally stop searching for a good restaurant and set your sights on home, which was your original plan, but you liked it when Oscar instructed you to take care of yourself. So, home you went, you and your boyfriend blabbing each other's ears off.

oscarpiastri

Liked by drivetimeyn and 45,720 others

oscarpiastri Had to help my baby ✨decompress ✨

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drivetimeyn Thank you, my love ❤️ Definitely recharged and ready to finish out the season 👊🏿 logansargeant Where was my invite? > theopouchaire21 Yeah me too? > drivetimeyn Please, children, mommy and daddy had to take some time to be alone 😚 > awaywego SEE IM NOT WEIRD FOR CALLING THEM MOM AND DAD theoandynbesties We all deserve someone that invests as much energy in us as Oscar does in Yn

2023; Your 3rd Formula 2 Season, Oscar's 1st Formula 1 Season ; Spa- Belgian GP

You park your car in front of the first place sign in parc ferme and quickly and somewhat clumsily remove the steering wheel, climb out your car and replace it, hands shaking from nerves and exhaustion after a hard fought race in the rain. You, first, place your hands on the halo, taking a few deep breaths and grounding yourself to the present, something necessary for you after each race because for you, racing is an out of body experience, something where you are a heightened version of yourself and at a certain point it feels like your watching from a third person view. Once back to the present, you go to get weighed and take note of the cheering. Loud cheering. Much louder than when you normally win. You turn and see your team excited for you and you’re startled when you feel Theo run up and hug you tight once he gets off the scale, yelling something that you didn’t quite catch because he still had his helmet on. You spot your boyfriend and head his direction, confused at the wide smile he had on his face.

   “Do you know what you just did?�� He had his hands on your shoulders, but you felt a third one touch your shoulder blade when Arthur, who got third in the Sprint, came up behind you.

   “Congratulations. You deserve it after the drive you just had. P5 to P1.” You were looking at everyone wide eyed. Did you just do what you think you did? You knew you were ahead in the championship, only needing a few more points to be considered champion because no amount of points would allow anyone to surpass you.

   “Did I do it? Drivers’ Championship?” Your voice was light and airy as your gaze switched between Oscar and Charles, who you just then realized was there.

   “You did it baby! I knew you could!” You stood in shock, grateful Oscar’s hands were at your waist because you needed to stay steady. As soon as it sunk in you wrapped your arms around Oscar’s neck and started bawling. You worked so hard to get here, tiring yourself out mentally, physically and emotionally. You felt like you were going nowhere but now here you are, your name etched into the history books forever. Oscar consoled you, rubbing your back, and then sent you in the direction of your parents, to whom you continued to bawl on. Nearly every person you encountered received tears somewhere on their person, but luckily by podium time you had no more tears left, so you were able to enjoy your champagne celebration without the embarrassment of crying, Oscar watching happily below until he received a tap on his shoulder.

   “I expected nothing less from Yn. She has been amazing since you guys were in F3.” Charles pats Oscar’s back as he turns his attention back to the podium where you and his brother were knocking champagne bottles before taking a swig. 

   “I know. I’m glad she got this chance but, I can’t help but be pissed because even with all of this,” Oscar waves his hand at the excitement. “She has yet to receive any offers. Even from her own driving academy.”

   “Well, I’m sure they’ll start rolling in now. You’ve just got to be patient.” Charles takes off after that to get one more chance to see his brother before getting ready for the Qualifying day, leaving Oscar to stew.

   “To hell with patience.” Oscar says under his breath before pulling out his phone and walking to go meet you with your parents, taping something angrily out on his phone.

   “So, Oscar, before we let you go we wanted to ask about the tweet you sent out after Yn’s Sprint Race win that secured the driver’s championship for her. What was going on in that moment as you were tweeting that out?” Oscar looked slowly, wide eyed toward his PR manager who shot daggers through him with her eyes, urging him to not speak which for him wasn’t an option. He was finally given the platform to truly speak on this, but he had to be careful. 

   “Um, I’ll just answer this briefly because I do have to get going, but…Yn has proved herself time and time again how great of a driver she is. Today was the ultimate testament to that. So it’s up to the teams now, seeing who’s gonna take that leap. Thank you.” Oscar is quickly ushered away, quickly heading back to the McLaren motorhome to recoup before qualifying.

   “You just had to, huh?” His PR manager taps her foot and she scrolls and types something out quickly.

   “Yes. And it felt amazing.” Oscar lays his head on the tall counter next to him, smiling like a clown down toward the floor before turning to the woman next to him, who lets a satisfied grin flash briefly on her face.

   “Fine. I guess it was for a good cause. But please, warn me next time.” The exhausted woman pleads with the smiling boy, twisting her phone in her hand as she waits for the greatly needed confirmation.

   “Yes ma’am.” He wraps an arm around her and hugs her close, to which she pulls back since he was still sweaty from the third practice session.

   “Now go to the debriefing meeting before you get in trouble for being late, too.” Oscar does as he is told, jogging off to the computer filled room to first be scolded before the important pre-qualifying meeting got underway.

drivetimeyn

Liked by oscarpiastri and 37,299 others

drivetimeyn I love my hot boyfriend. That's it. That's the post. ❤️

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oscarpiastri It's an honor to be called hot by someone as lovely as you, gorgeous 😉 > drivetimeyn Sorry, I'm taken by the loser in the crazy colored helmet ✋🏿💅🏿 landonorris We all have our own opinion 😐 > oscarpiastri It's okay, Lando. Everyone knows you have a thing for me 😗 > landonorris Yn, come get ur mans rn ynonthegrid They act like a middle aged couple that been married for years but still act like horny teenagers and I truly wouldn't have it any other way

f1

Liked by alfaromeostake and 893,629 others

f1 Yn Yln, recently crowned FIA F2 Drivers' Champion, to drive alongside Zhou Guanyu at Alfa Romeo in 2024

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alfaromeostake Welcome to the team! > drivetimeyn Excited to keep rising with Sauber ❤️🖤 zhouguanyu24 Couldn't be more excited to have you as a teammate > drivetimeyn Next season, we're going feral 🤪 futurechampyn We all know Yn's driving got her here, but can we give an honorable mention to the leg work Oscar did? Boy put his rep on the line and would gladly do it again oscarpiastri See you on the grid, Love ♥️ > drivetimeyn Let me know how my rear wing looks, okay babe? > oscarpiastri Won't need to, it always looks great 🤩

#Spotify #black reader #request #f1 x black!reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x black!reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x black!reader #f1 fake text #f1 smau #f1 imagines

[hai7ani]

橘 (TACHIBANA/JÚ) haitani rindou

nsfw (no smut), complicated relationships, canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, wounds & abuse please proceed with caution

thank you for 300 followers! i thought i might as well upload this today ^^

masterlist | playlist

part iii / your lips, my lips; apocalypse

2004

Rindou had experienced true homesickness when he was 16.

Middle of December when the snow had just started falling in Tokyo, and he is home alone, disassociating to some Mozart playing at max volume along some other things (or thoughts) while laying flat on his bed. If Ran was home to hear the kind of music he is currently playing, he'd be a dead man by then.

But he doesn't care about Ran, no. He cares about you. You're the one who's been plaguing his mind -- so sticky and frustrating -- after he'd left your pouty figure back home in Kanagawa with kiss-swollen lips 5 months ago. You and your stupid, pretty lips that has taken his first kiss, your laugh that feels a lot more effective than those pills his Mother tells him to swallow for his migraine, your soft, shaky hands when they reached up to cup his cheeks as you open your mouth wider to allow his tongue in . . .

Requiem in D Minor reaches its peak, and he finally finds it in him to turn the volume down with a click of his tongue -- he's to become a madman if he continues this any further.

It's been 2 years since the boy's moved up to Tokyo alone with his brother. Rindou doesn't think he's struggled much in adapting to the lifestyle -- in fact, it suits him a lot more than he's expected it to. He likes to think he's adapted to it sooner than Ran, although the older seems to be much more put together than he is -- judging from the listening habits and different lifestyles both brothers have chosen to adopt in this big city as two young teenagers -- because Ran is actually doing something useful right now: staying back at school for extra Physics lessons and then attending his Track and Field club meeting after class, and Rindou is here: still dressed in his uniform, still not yet finished his McDonald's that he'd abandoned at the dining table before retreating back into his room to sulk because he's been missing a certain somebody a little too much.

He admits that things are more fun in the city -- the nightlife that he finds himself getting excited to when walking past the centre of Roppongi to get back home after night class, easily accessible skate parks that he frequents with a few friends after school in his half-buttoned uniform, the drifting culture he's taken up after spending most of his savings on a second-hand MX-5 to drift illegally on weekends where he doesn't have to get up early . . . It is all so different and fresh, and Rindou thinks he hasn't felt this good while having fun before.

But you wrote him a letter 2 months ago for his birthday and he still hasn't replied to it yet.

I still think about our kiss in summer. I also miss you a whole lot. See you next summer, and again, happy 16th, 竜胆.

You'd wrote it in the ending paragraph of your lengthy four-paged letter -- all the things you wished he was there back home to experience together with you, your stupid little thoughts flashing by your head while laying flat in bed at 3 in the morning, your already-planned new year resolutions that he knows you're never going to finish despite your sudden burst of motivation, recent hobbies that you've started picking up due to extreme boredom now that December is here and everything outside is cold and slippery -- and Rindou finds himself thinking about you and you and you over and over again.

Summer of 2004 -- when he finished his can of beer and crushed it in his hands as he silently admired you through the curtains of his eyelashes. When you caught his eyes and bit your lip before shifting closer to him on the floor while fixing the loose strap of your tank top. When he inched closer to your face and smirked, before puffing out a small, warm air that smells like beer with a hint of peppermint over your cupid's bow.

When you blushed and decided to be bold by placing both hands on his sturdy chest as you knocked your forehead against his very warm and red cheek. When he looked you in the eye one last time before pressing his dry, boyish lips tight against yours that tasted a lot like your favourite honeydew flavoured lip balm and he'd smiled into it.

Sweet, peachy, and the kiss wasn't perfect; it was merely just a quick peck, but it was so lovely that he finds himself growing warm at the memory of your eyelids fluttering open when he pulled away, only to lean back in and peck at your lips once or twice more before shoving in a tongue and getting you all worked up in the process, because he just couldn't help it -- you were so addictive. You were so pretty.

You are so pretty.

The boy sits back up in one swift motion and looks out the window to his right. He stares down at the bustling, happening city below from the comfort of his high rise.

A train passes by through the underground tunnels of Roppongi. Pristine, white snowflakes falls heavily from the sky and lands on the ground before slowly piling up on the sidewalk as a young child happily tugs on her mother's hand while pointing at it. The yolk of the sun is hidden behind thick clouds, but it is still bright outside.

The wires connect. Stars align. Clouds fade away.

He blushes.

Rindou wants to kiss you again.

He glances at your crumpled letters still splayed across his desk for the past 2 months, and the boy comes to a realisation.

Things are fun in Tokyo.

Life isn't.

And the next thing he knows, he is shoving a bunch of winter clothes and a few bags of expensive taiyaki into his black Jansport, before leaving a quick note on a yellow Post-it to Ran on the coffee table while finishing up his leftover McDonald's.

Going back home for Xmas *a badly drawn Christmas tree*

Will be back before the new years... or not

Depends on my mood. C u

🖕 - ur 弟

He throws the pen down, not before doodling yet another huge, ugly and messily drawn middle finger on the remaining space in the Post-It, and he slaps it on the table.

Rindou leaves for Kanagawa in the earliest train at 5 in the evening with your letters folded, safely tucked into the left pocket of his puffer jacket with a bag of warm chocolate chip muffins placed into the confines of his jacket to keep warm on the ride home. An elderly lady sitting beside him points it out with a teasing laugh and a silly pat to his forearm.

"Who are these for?"

He says it with a lopsided smile.

"My girlfriend."

Three more days to Christmas and Rindou is standing outside of your school gate.

He'd came straight after he arrived, not bothering to phone his parents or inform his brother of his safe arrival back home. Seeing you seemed to weigh far heavier to him, judging from how he's waiting patiently in the cold for you to get out of night class. Rindou knows of your schedule well -- he's memorised it ever since you showed it to him the last time he visited home.

"Fuck," he cusses, nose growing redder and patience growing thinner with each passing moment that you don't appear at the entrance. "Did I get the wrong time?" He murmurs to himself and pulls out his phone to check. Did he perhaps be smart that day and snapped a photo of your timetable? But he's sure you finish at 8 on Tuesdays, with Math being the last period -- he remembers you complaining about it because you have always been one to hate Math, while him on the other hand, is an absolute beast at it.

White snow slowly covers his two-toned hair as he shuffles his weight from one foot to another, and a deep crease forms between his brows after realising that his stupid ass did not, in fact, be smart that day and snap a photo of your timetable.

Rindou clicks his tongue. He's contemplating on leaving -- to turn around and just go over to your house right now. Maybe you are actually home this whole time as he's stuck here pondering his thoughts and you're getting bored out of your mind.

He thinks he cannot waste another moment to see you.

And after a few more analysing and breaking down on what would be the best option to do, a voice calls out for his name. A girl's voice -- smooth and filled with so much excitement, it seems -- and he turns around to look at her.

Himeko approaches him from the entrance -- dressed in her cozy uniform and a heavy book bag is slung over her shoulder. "Rindou, you're home." She jogs up to him, leg warmers falling off her calves as she runs and stops just right in front of him. There's a wide grin stretched across her face as she stares up at the much taller boy and doe eyes squints a little from the lamppost shining down into them. Light snowflakes cover her eyelashes and she simply dusts them away with a little smile.

"Oh, hey." Rindou blinks. He then turns on his heel to head towards your house and Himeko follows along with a finger hooked onto a strap of his Jansport. "Why are you back home? It's not Summer." She states, and she soon realises that the last sentence had sounded a little stupid -- so she attempts to make it less awkward for her by asking more questions and attempting to converse with Rindou, to which the boy doesn't oppose on answering.

"It's the last week before winter break." She states while picking up her pace behind him to catch up with the boy's wider steps.

"I know. How's school?" He asks, his vacant hand shoving down into the pocket of his jacket to keep warm but Himeko nudges his elbow. He looks down and sees that she is handing him her book bag.

Rindou fishes the hand out to get a hold of the strap and he slings it over his shoulder -- just as habit allows. Himeko seems delighted at this, as she crosses her hands behind her body and starts skipping beside him on the sidewalk. But a brown bag hanging off his left hand catches her attention and curious hands starts inching towards it without him knowing.

"Just fine. It's been a little boring though, even the teachers are getting ready for the holidays." She replies. Rindou simply hums at it. He's never been great at conversations -- always the listener with you as his speaker.

And he feels a sudden jolt at the bag in his hand. He snatches it back quick, eyes sharp and movements turning defensive as he stares at the girl who is clearly shocked at his behaviour over a bag of chocolate chip muffins.

". . . What?" He clears his throat and stops in his tracks. He's getting irritated. Himeko tilts her head to the side. She points at the bag of muffins with a pointer, "Are those for me? I like muffins."

"'S for Mom. She wanted me to buy 'em before coming back." And with that, Rindou hands Himeko back her own bag to take. He doesn't say anything further, and he shoves its strap back into her hands, the weight pushing her arms down and she furrows her brows at his suddenness.

It's so awkward. But she is Himeko -- always the peacemaker of the group -- and she decides to clear the atmosphere with a change of topic.

"Ran didn’t come home with you?"

Rindou remains quiet for a while -- obviously feeling a little pissed, but ultimately, he decides to reply to her anyway.

"Nah, he's still in Tokyo. I came back without him."

"Why’d you come home then?"

"I just missed Mom's cooking, 's all." He shrugs. A lie, but Himeko doesn't need to know that. Though she beams at his response, "I went to your house for dinner yesterday. Your Mom's cooking is way too good." My house, dinner?

"Did Y/N go, too?" He asks a little too quickly, the steady beat of his chest growing quicker at the thought of you most probably sitting on his chair at his dining table while enjoying his mother's cooking before finding ways to sneak up to his room and mess with his DJ set that he'd purposely left home for you to play with. He smiles a little at the possible scene playing in his head.

The smile on Himeko's face falters a little at his sudden burst of emotion with the mention of you, but she fixes herself fast and shoots back a response just as fast.

"No, her father came home on Sunday. I haven't seen her since."

Rindou turns his head to look at the shorter girl beside with a worried expression -- a total contrast to all that he's felt just now. He stops in his tracks, and Himeko stops too -- just two steps ahead of him -- with the smile on her face completely gone now.

"What's wrong?" She asks, face full of genuine concern.

"What do you mean?" Rindou frowns.

Himeko tilts her head to the left, trying to grasp what exactly that he's asking, so she repeats her words from earlier by talking slower.

"Y/N's dad came home on Sunday . . . ? She hasn't attended classes today or yesterday. I haven't seen her since she left to pick her father up from the airport. That was Sunday. But we know how it is. Her dad's probably just looking for some family bonding time with her."

Rindou scowls at it.

No, you don't.

Though she doesn't notice it, she shifts a little awkwardly at Rindou's visible shift in mood.

"Bye." He bids curtly and he leaves Himeko behind. The boy quickens his steps and turns into the road that leads straight to your house. He can see the building from a distance and Rindou can faintly make out that the lights are on.

You must be home.

"Rindou? Where are you-" Himeko calls out, but she pauses after realising the road that he's taking. He hears faint footsteps behind him but he doesn't reply -- his beating heart way too frantic for him to say anything at this point, let alone actually think for a response.

Her words play in his head over and over again, and it gets so overwhelming to the point that he has to take a breather and fix his unruly hair that's starting to block his vision.

Your dad is home.

A step closer to your house. Snow crunches beneath his sneakers.

Your dad is home.

The gate is open. He sees the quick wagging of a fluffy tail just beside the metal.

Your dad is home.

Inu-sama sits by the gate and upon sensing his owner's childhood friend's arrival, it barks at him. And it doesn't stop barking despite Rindou being someone who it has grown so familiar with over the years of your childhood and Inu-sama's place in your family.

"Hey, bud." He reaches down to pat your old Shiba, combing down its fur and giving it a few belly rubs before reaching into the pocket of his Jansport to fish out a little treat for your dog. He's not forgotten its treats despite leaving the house in a rush. "Where's 姉さん?" He asks -- as if Inu-sama could speak -- and it can, actually. It barks again to the door after his question and Rindou takes it as a hint that you are probably inside.

But the gate is open. Weird.

So he kicks off his shoes by the entrance and brings a nervous knuckle up to knock on the door. His hearts thumps fast in his chest, breath stuttering in his throat -- not because the thought of you possibly opening the door for him makes him giddy, but because the thought of your father possibly opening the door for him makes him weak. Scared.

Rindou is scared.

Everyone is afraid of your father. Even Ran who is known to have no fear towards anyone in his life -- not even his elders -- is scared of your father. But everyone except Himeko, though. Somehow through her rose-tinted eyes she still holds on to the idea that your father is just like any other: a man who leads and a man who brings structure. But you can't blame her, for she hasn't seen your father in ages. She hasn't seen the man he has become.

And Rindou knocks again, but still, no response, so he tries his luck by twisting the knob. It's unlocked and he pushes it open. Perhaps it'll earn him a black eye for attempting to enter your house without your father's approval, but he'll risk it just this once.

"Y/N?"

He's half-expected the house to be empty -- from the state of your unlocked door and gate to the awfully quiet and icy cold atmosphere of your house. Rindou doesn't think there's anyone in the house.

That is until he looks down at the sound of a sob.

The monster has done it again.

You're crouching on the floor, surrounded by what seems to be broken shards of glass and a few blood stains tainting the marble white of your floor.

He bolts towards you in an instant, not before throwing off his bag by the foot of the door and stepping over the sharp glass to reach over to you on his sock-clad feet. They cut into his flesh and he hisses a little at the sting, but he ignores the pain, and he diverts his attention back all on you.

You're not moving from your position, but he can tell that you're crying. You're hurt -- the cuts and dark bruises that's starting to swell on your arms and legs cracks his heart at the sight, and you're cold -- God, you're so, so cold when he scoops your frail body up and into his arms, away from the wrecked floor.

Weak, shaky hands immediately move to grip on his shoulder, nails sinking into the flesh as you suck in a deep breath upon realising that there's someone holding you -- someone is touching you. You panic a little, a whine escaping your throat and you try pushing him away with all the strength that you can muster. You hadn't realised that it is Rindou. You hadn't realised that he has entered the house. It doesn't hit you that Rindou is back home in the middle of December. You continue fighting against in his arms with more tears springing up to your bloodshot eyes.

"Stop, Dad. Please. It hurts."

That alone sends the boy into a shaking mess.

But he gathers himself, and he attempts to ground you by sitting you both on the couch and pressing your cold body into his warm chest. He buries his nose in your neck and kisses the skin gently, feeling the quick pulse of your heartbeat against his lips while rubbing warm circles on your upper back -- a means to soothe you, a means to tell you that he's here. "'S me, babe. It's me." He says it so softly -- right next to your ear, only meant for you to hear, meant for you to listen.

You shudder a little at the sudden warmth invading your skin and into your bones, and it then strikes you that the person holding you is Rindou. Rindou is home. The peppermint of his smell that you've long grown to love makes its way in grounding your senses and you eventually relax in his secure hold.

You're safe now.

Rindou is home. You are not alone anymore.

And then you start crying again.

"Where's the bastard? Your mom too." He asks, tone rough but he's gentle when cleaning away the blood on your lips from being busted by no doubt a harsh strike and he wipes it off on his jacket. You hold the other hand of his on your cheek to kiss the palm. "The airport. He says he's going back to the States. Just after a day." Your voice is shaky as you try your hardest to explain to him clearly amidst your choked sobs, "Mom is still in Osaka." And he doesn't make you speak any further after that -- he simply nods at your reply and opting to hug you close to his chest and calm your cries instead.

Rindou sighs angrily at your answer, a deep breath escaping his nose. You only bury yourself closer to him at it.

So your father did actually leave you in here all alone like this and went back to continuing his career. He wonders just how long you have been staying like this, in this state.

He looks around the house to make sure the man is actually gone and his purple eyes don’t miss the heavy stacks of medical textbooks and printed samples of medical reports scattered all over the coffee table. Your test paper -- Math, Tachibana Y/N, Fail -- sits atop of the books, the papers crumpled and a little torn at the sides. The large frames that hangs on the walls of your living room -- none of them are yours, all are his -- are all displaying professional photos of him attached with the many titles and prizes awarded to him.

Doctor Tachibana Hiroji, PhD in Oncology.

Doctor Tachibana Hiroji, board member of Harvard Medical School.

Doctor Tachibana Hiroji.

Doctor Tachibana Hiroji.

Tachibana Hiroji.

What a man of noble character and high intellect, but is such a monster behind closed doors to his only daughter, his family.

Rindou turns his head back, and he’s gentle with you - soft hands wiping away the free-flowing tears and light bloodstains off your face.

And he decides that he doesn’t want to see you like this anymore.

Rindou presses his forehead to yours.

"I'll kill him, you know?"

"No, don't. You'll-"

"I'll kill him. I promise.”

Himeko stands behind the two of you -- scared behind the couch -- with eyes so wide and a heart pumping blood so fast underneath the bones of her chest that she thinks she might die.

But a broken sob from you on the couch breaks her out of her bubble.

She looks around the house.

She looks at your state.

She takes it all in.

"But we know how it is. Her dad's probably just looking for some family bonding time with her."

Oh.

tags: @nana-osakii

this took so long omg but i had time today to finish it so here it is ^^

reblogs are appreciated! thank you for reading :3

#解 #橘 series #rindou x reader #rindou haitani x reader #haitani rindou x reader #rindou haitani #haitani rindou #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tr x reader #haitani brothers #tokyo revengers #tokrev #tr

[gretavangroupie]

Valor - (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Jake x Reader, Daniel x Reader

Word Count: 17.1k

Warnings: Cursin', Smokin', Drinkin', Allusions to Drug Use. Angst: Struggle and Poverty, Emotional Manipulation, Cheating, Abandonment, Jealousy, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Weapons, Mentions of Death, Allusions to Suicide, Allusions to Shady Activities. Smut: Kissing, Allusions to Sex.

Valor Playlist: Apple Music | Spotify

A new project in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

HER POV

You could hardly see out the back window, your entire life piled up to the roof of the car. You were thankful on days like today, that you had a car big enough to fit it all. Your every worldly possession, reduced down to a handful of boxes and trash bags, now occupying your backseat. You shifted into reverse and turned your body to look out the back window of your old ‘73 Scout. Your eyes peeked through the visible sliver of the rear window, but not before catching sight of the dress you were slated to wear just 3 months from now. That, however, was the reason you were packed into this car in the first place. 

‘Go ahead and try to leave. You’ll be back when you realize I’m as good as it gets for you.’ his words still echoing through your head as if they were being played through a loudspeaker. ‘You need me. You have nothing without me. You’ll never make it on your own.’ And that’s exactly what he wanted you to believe. He’d told you that so often you wondered if it was himself he was trying to convince instead of you. 

You were set to marry Peter the second week of July. The plans were made, invitations sent. But as you stopped by his office to deliver his plate lunch, what you’d walked in on was not the scene of a man ready to be greeted by his soon to be wife. No, it was a very different scene, straight from one of those Playboy magazines you could buy at the Quik-Stop on Douglas.

You can still hear the sound of the ceramic plate shattering against the terrazzo floors. The gasp of air that left the lips of his new bookkeeper, sprawled out across his desk. You can remember the way the peas scattered across the floor in every direction and the way they felt smashing under your shoes as you fled his office. 

You waited for him to come home that night. Your things were already packed away in bags and boxes by the time he finally meandered through the front door of the apartment. Then came the excuses. The begging and pleading that quickly turned vicious and accusatory. The ‘maybe if you put out more, I wouldn’t have had to look elsewhere’ lines, that you knew to be a load of shit. You knew Peter wasn’t one to shy away from clearing his conscience at someone else's expense. Your mind was made up before he ever came home. You knew you couldn’t stay here, not with him. Not after this. 

You aren’t sure why you brought the dress with you. You could have easily left it at your mothers, letting it hang in her guest room closet to collect dust and rot until the end of time. But you didn’t, you knew that bringing it would give you that reminder of why you were leaving. So with fifteen dollars of gas in the tank, and your Bruce Springsteen 8-track, you and your things began the trek towards Atlanta, ready to start again. Ready to live a life uninhibited. Ready to find an adventure. 

—

The chorus of ‘State Trooper’ played through the fuzzy car speakers as you popped a cinnamon hard candy into your mouth. Your eyes caught sight of the welcome sign as you crossed the Iowa-Missouri border in a blur. It had been quite a few years since you’d been back to Missouri. Actually, you hadn’t visited since your family moved in the third grade. It was an abrupt move, your parents pulling you from school midway through the year with little to no explanation. You were placed in the back of your parents' Taurus and the life that you had known flashed by in a matter of the five minutes it took to make your way from one side of town to the other. You liked Iowa though. You made friends there, had a life and were active in school extracurriculars. It’s where you met Peter, and fell in love, though now that part didn’t exactly fit the narrative of your happy story. 

As the song began to fade out into the next track, you heard it. The metallic grinding beneath the hood. The hell is that? You spun the volume knob down to zero, listening again for the noise, wondering if maybe you had just run over something on the freeway. As you passed mile marker 22 you heard it again, louder. Whatever it was had your heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t know the first thing about cars, definitely not enough to fix anything. Then it became more frequent. Persistent. Something was really wrong. 

In a panic you pulled off the road into the overgrown grass of the shoulder, pulling out your roadmap and unfolding it across the steering wheel. You tried to get a sense of your surroundings, knowing you’d crossed the border not too long ago. You pinpoint your location in search of the next town you’d come across in what you knew to be a collection of nearly abandoned mining towns. A bead of sweat collected on your forehead, the wind dying down as the sun began to set. The impending darkness adds another factor of stress to an already stressful situation. As your finger traced a line up the interstate, you saw the familiar name. The place just on your mind mere minutes ago. You don’t remember too much about Joslyn, but what you do remember of it, is that there was an auto repair shop, and you were in desperate need if you were going to make it to Atlanta. With an estimated thirty miles to Joslyn from your current spot, you started your car back up, and pulled back out onto the road, praying you would make it there without doing anymore damage. 

The metallic noise seemed to stay consistent, but with every mile that passed you knew the dollar signs were adding up. Of course you took the money stashed away for the wedding, he didn’t get to keep that. Why should he? Consider it severance. However, car repairs was not how you wanted to spend that money. You planned to use it for a deposit and first month's rent on an apartment, hoping it would be enough to tide you over until you found a job. 

You knew you had plenty of useful skills, you were near the top of your class in school. You planned to work with Peter at the accounting firm after you married, and you hoped you’d be able to find a similar position in your new city. You were snapped from your daydreams as you saw the sign welcoming you to Joslyn, however, the old decrepit sign, about twenty years past needing to be replaced, sent a cold chill down your spine. The way it barely hung on to the wooden stakes made you feel anything but welcome, and your instincts told you to turn back. As you limped your car further into town, you realized that the vibrant city you left all those years ago had been in steady decline ever since. Homes abandoned and pillaged, with broken windows and spray painted siding. Cars sat deteriorating in driveways that were barely visibly under the overgrown grass and trees. You had no sense of ‘home’ despite this being the town you were born in. You barely recognized it, until you saw Louie’s. 

Knowing you would find answers there, you pulled into an empty parking space, almost afraid to pull the key from the ignition, wondering if it would turn on again when you got back inside. You grabbed your fringed purse from the passenger seat, and pushed your sunglasses to the top of your head as you jumped down from the driver's seat. The gravel crunched beneath your feet as you walked towards the front door of the diner, seeing a few older patrons lining the bartop and scattered through a few booths through the large windows. 

The bell rang as you pulled the door open, alerting everyone of your presence. Ten heads turned to look at you all at once, and suddenly you felt like a spectacle as you stood there in your halter top and waist hugging jeans. 

“Take a seat anywhere ya’d like, hun.” a lady in a pink apron called out from across the room. Her voice was gruff and far deeper than it should be for a lady, you thought. You made your way towards an empty bar stool, leaving a space between you and an older man in a newsboy cap, sliding his fork through a piece of cherry pie. You gave him a curt smile as you settled on the stool and placed your bag on the counter. It smelled good, and you felt a small rumble in your stomach as you watched plates being sent to the window. If you’d had more time you’d probably enjoy a late lunch, but you didn’t, so you couldn’t.

The same woman approached you, handing you a laminated menu and gesturing a coffee cup towards you in silent question. You nodded your head and smiled, placing the menu down on the counter. 

“What’ll ya have, sugar…” she asked, pouring coffee into your mug from the yellow stained carafe. 

“Oh, I’m great with just the coffee for now, thank you.” you responded, seeing her eyes rake over you with curiosity. 

“Just passin’ through?” she asks, placing the carafe back on the counter. 

“Sort of. I’m on my way to Georgia, but I think I need a mechanic to look at my car. Started knocking when I hit the border. This was the first town I thought might have one.” you answer. 

The lady’s eyes flash over to the man next to you. He looks over at you and looks back at her giving her a slight nod. “Yeah we got one.” he says, twisting his stool to face you. “You’ll have to try and get it down to Ace’s, well Jake’s now I reckon. But he should be able to get ya fixed up.” 

“Would you be able to give me directions?” you ask, digging into your purse in search of a pen. You grab a paper napkin from the dispenser, and click the end of your pen on the countertop as he nods his head. 

“Yeah, so you’re gonna take a left out of the lot here, go down ‘bout 2 miles ‘er so, you’ll see a Church of the Nazarene and take that left there. Go up that hill ‘bouta ‘nother mile and you’ll see a dirt road on your right. His shops’ at the end of the drive there. Can tell him Bubba sent ‘cha, and he’ll help out a pretty lady I’m sure of it.”

You quickly scribble down his directions, and toss the napkin and pen into your bag. “Thank you. I–I really should be going, It’ll be dark soon and I–”

“Should finish your cup there at least.” the lady says, leaning onto the counter. “You sure you’re not from ‘round here, honey? You look awful familiar.”

“Not exactly.” you say, cutting the conversation short. You place a few dollars on the counter and grab your bag, “Thank you. For the directions. I appreciate it.” you say, watching the man tip his hat to you as you make your way out of the diner and back to your car. Jumping into the front seat you send up a quick prayer that she’ll start and as you twist the key you hear the engine roar to life. 

With the napkin sitting on your leg, you pulled out of the parking space heading further into town. The clock on the dash read 4:43, and you hoped you’d catch them before they closed up for the night. You saw the church he spoke of up in the distance, what was probably once a pristine white building, was now showing wear and tear with no one to fix it up. You took the left, the metallic clicking beneath the hood growing louder as you pressed forward on the gas pedal to climb the hill. With the windows down the sound was deafening, the cool breeze blowing through the window alleviated the sweat forming on your neck. In the dissipating sunlight you saw the orange dirt road and hesitantly turned to travel down its short path. A multitude of old abandoned cars littered the premises, and you wondered if that was a good sign or a bad one. You slowed your speed to a crawl, the clicking from your engine announcing your presence as you pulled closer towards the building. 

Your headlights lit up the front of the building, an old gray sheet metal building, flash rust covering most of the sign that read ‘Ace’s Garage’. Two men in old rotted patio chairs stood slowly as you put the car in park. You shut off the engine and took a deep breath as you jumped out onto the dusty dirt road.  

“Hi, I’m sorry, am I too late? I know it’s close to closing.” you murmured, stepping around to the front of the car. They both just stood there in their faded blue coveralls that looked like they hadn’t had a washing in some time. The taller man had his unzipped and the sleeves tied around his waist. A dirty white t-shirt beneath concealed what seemed to be a plethora of ink adorning his body. Neither of them jumped to respond to you, and your eyes searched theirs for any sort of answer as the shorter man begrudgingly flicked his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out with his dirty boot. “Closed at 4:30.” he says.

“Shut up Jake. No. We heard you coming ‘bout a mile away.” the other, taller man said with a curt smile. His dark disheveled curls were tied up in a messy bun that hadn’t been touched since he put it there this morning. Wisps of hair surrounded his head in a halo of sweaty dark strands. “Doesn’t sound too good. Sounds like you’ve got something going on under the hood.”

“It just started doing it about an hour or so ago. Right after I crossed the border. Never heard it before, and I have a long trip ahead of me so I figured I should probably get it checked out.” you reply, twisting your hands around the strap of your purse. 

“Could be a number of things…” he pauses, stepping over towards your car. He places a grease covered hand on the hood of your baby blue Scout and turns to look at you. “These Scouts are pretty good little cars, but they are notorious for having engine issues. Afraid to say you might be a victim of that. Though, maybe it’s just a bad wheel bearing.”

“Nah.” the other man, who you now know as Jake, says suddenly, stepping forward slowly with his arms crossed across his chest. He doesn’t say much, just places his hand under the hood and opens the latch. He steps up on the front bumper, and takes a look into the engine compartment, resting his tattoo covered hands on either side of the frame. After a few quiet minutes he steps down, and closes the hood staring at the taller man. “Collapsed lifter, but that’s the least of her issues. Camshaft is fucked.”

“When did you say it started doing this?” the curly haired man asks. 

“About an hour ago. I know it’s bad but, what’s that mean?” you ask nervously.

“Means you better call your husband to come pick you up.” Jake said, looking out towards the field in the distance.

“Husband?” you question, seeing his eyes travel to the diamond on your left finger. You quickly flip it around and look back to him. “Oh, I’m not married. I don’t have a husband. I don’t live here. I was just passing through.”

“Shit place to get stranded.” he quips, turning on his heel and making his way towards the door of the car. He spits towards the ground as he pulls the door open and climbs inside.

“Stranded?” you blurt out, catching the eyes of the taller man. 

“Daniel, get her out of the fuckin’ way.” Jake says calmly, leaning his head out the window as he starts your car.

He grabs your arm and ushers you out of the way as Jake pulls your car forward into the empty bay beneath the buzzing fluorescent lights. He nods, motioning for you to follow him towards the garage, the air dusty as your tires kicked up dirt. The car shuts off and he jumps out, his boots making a loud thud as they land on the dirty concrete floors. As you follow Daniel into the garage he stops, placing his hands on his hips as he watches Jake lift the hood once more. This time, he grabs a ladder and a work light, hanging it from the inside of the hood. You look around at the garage, noticing the side you occupied was slightly more messy than the bay on the opposite side. Tools scattered about but in a way that you could tell they were exactly where they were supposed to be.

As you turned further you noticed a tan cover hanging loosely over a car parked between the two bays, you didn’t pay much mind to it, as your brain was bouncing from object to object. Your eyes caught Jake’s as he peered up from the engine compartment, quickly flicking them back down as he examined the condition of your motor. You let out a sigh and leaned backwards, resting your weight on the covered car. Daniel snapped his head in your direction seeing you before looking over at Jake. He quickly turned back to you, and pulled your arm to stand up again. “Probably don’t want to lean on that one. Here, let’s go find you somewhere to sit.” he said, walking you further into the garage. You looked over to Jake again, seeing him concentrated on his task, a single strand of brown hair hanging long in his face. 

You followed Daniel as he led you to a plaid nylon folding chair, similar to the ones they arose from earlier. The once white fabric was now a dingy, dirty gray, stained with oil and grease. He offered you a sorrowful smile as he gestured for you to sit. “Thanks.” you squeaked, checking your wristwatch for the time. 

Daniel walked back over towards the car, peering in as Jake inspected the damage. You watched his back muscles flex as he placed his hands on the open hood, his white t-shirt pulling tightly against his back. You could see the shadow of a dark image through the white cotton of his shirt, a large tattoo must be under there and you couldn’t help but wonder what it was. It was almost as if he could feel your eyes on him as he turned around to meet your gaze as he continued talking to Jake. Jake turned around too, catching your sight and you knew that the news they were about to deliver was probably not what you wanted to hear. 

Jake unhooked the work light, and closed the hood, stepping down off the ladder and wiping his hands on his coveralls. He used the back of his arm to wipe the sweat from his brow as he looked over towards you again. They both began walking over towards you, stopping short as they reached you. You stood to meet them, watching as Jake shoved his hands in his pockets.

He was the first to speak, “I can fix it, but I will have to order the parts. Don’t see too many of these come ‘round here.”

“Oh, so it’s an easy fix? Good, maybe I won’t be here too long.” you said cheerfully.

“No. I didn’t say that.” he bites back. “I said, I can fix it.”

You furrow your brow at his harshness and turn to Daniel. 

He rolls his eyes and looks at you, “What he is trying to say is that you need some major work done. We don’t have the parts we need– he needs, to be able to do it, so he will have to order them. Only problem is that the delivery truck only runs on the 15th of the month.”

You look down at your watch seeing the tiny ‘2’ in the window. “And today is the second…”

“Right.” he says, kicking his shoe against the floor. 

“I can call and order the parts tomorrow when the supplier opens, can give you a proper estimate then, but I’m gonna warn you that this ain’t no cheap fix.” Jake says, flicking his eyes up to yours. There is a smudge of grease on his cheek that catches the light. Your eyes travel down his face seeing a scattering of tattoos that decorate the side of his neck, disappearing down into the zipped coveralls. 

“I have the money.” you sigh, fiddling with the strings on your purse. 

Jake nods his head, “Right, well, see you tomorrow.” he says, turning to head towards a set of stairs at the side of the garage. 

“Jake. The fuck…” Daniel shouts, causing Jake to stop and turn around. 

“What.” he answers, slowly walking back towards you. 

“What do you mean, what? You’re gonna have to drive her down to Wanda’s.” he says, “I can’t take her on the bike.”

“No.” he says, far too quickly.

“Jake, what else is she supposed to do?” he says, throwing his hands into the air. 

“Dunno. Figure it out I guess.” he scoffs, trying to retreat again, before Daniel grabs his arm. 

“It’s Wanda’s or here. Make your choice.” Daniel growls.

“Why do you care?” Jake barks back.

“How about you quit being a prick for a minute? You’re going to take this nice, paying customer down to the Motel, so that tomorrow she can come back and pay for those parts, and you can fix her car, hm?” he seethes into his ear. 

Jake rips his arm from his grip, and walks over to the dirty, stained wall, snatching a set of keys from a hook. “Fine. Let’s go.”

You scurry over to your car, attempting to grab the few things you’ll need for a few nights stay at a motel, before quickly jumping down and looking around for Jake. You hear an engine roar to life outside the shop, seeing Danny pointing towards an old, Green Ford truck. His headlights flash on, practically blinding you as you start to walk towards them, turning to thank Daniel for his kindness as you run off towards your ride. 

—

The ride to the motel was silent for the most part, the sound of the static coming across the radio the only noise filling the cab of the truck. You sat shotgun while Jake rested his wrist on the steering wheel of the old Ford, the sullied fingertips of his opposite hand rubbing across his unkempt mustache as he slowly made his way back through town. 

“You can ask me.” He finally spoke, his eyes dashing quickly back and forth from the rear view mirror and the road. 

You cleared your throat, suddenly surprised he spoke. “Ask you what?”

“Where you know me from. I can tell you wanna ask.” He answered, his voice only a tiny bit louder than the rumbling engine. 

Damn, he was right. He did look familiar to you, and so did Daniel. But your mind was so frenzied with the anticipation of finding out what was wrong with your car, and then the news that the damage was far worse than you thought, that you pushed the thought far from your mind. 

“I mean, you do kind of seem…”

“…familiar? Yeah. I remember you.” He mumbled, his eyes still never traveling your way. “You went to St. James Elementary, right?”

“Yes…”

“So did we. Probably why you recognize us.” Jake turned the wheel a hard right, forgoing a blinker as he flicked his eyes to the rear view again. 

Ah, that makes sense. You had started the first grade here many years ago, and made it to the third before your parents ripped you away and set off toward Iowa. But the more you thought about it, the more you remembered them. Both of them. But that was over twenty years ago, how the hell did he remember you now?

“Shit, that’s right.” You glanced to the floor, trying like hell to stretch your mind back to the tiny hallways lined with lockers, and the playground out back where many of your earliest memories were made. “I remember now, you were what, a year older than me?”

“Yeah. Danny’s a few years behind me.” Jake reached in his front pocket and pulled out his half-empty pack of Lucky Strikes, patting the box on the heel of his hand before he pushed the lighter into the dash, waiting for it to heat. 

“So wait, you were the one that climbed to the top of that old Sycamore that day at recess…couldn’t get back down when the bell rang so you jumped down and broke your arm…” your memory probably didn’t serve you all the way right, but you couldn’t have made up the tall-tale. 

The lighter finally popped free, and Jake raised his left knee to steer the truck while he grabbed the handle, shielding the wind to light the butt of his cigarette. You watched as he inhaled, then cranked the window the rest of the way down to let the smoke filter through. 

“I didn’t climb all the way up. Just halfway. And I didn’t jump, I fell.” He tapped his cigarette in the tray of the dash, not caring one bit that the residual ashes fell into the floorboard. You watched them flutter down before fizzling out completely.

You laughed at the memory, finding it hard to believe that you’d found yourself here again, remembering things about your childhood that you hadn’t even come close to thinking about in years. 

“It wasn’t funny.” Jake said stoically, puffing the cigarette again. 

“Sorry. No, it wasn’t. But, I remember being glad you didn’t get hurt worse than you did.” You replied, hoping to warm up his ice-cold composure. 

“This is you.” He mumbled as he pulled into the lot of the old motel, the truck lurching forward as he put it into park. You popped the door open and slid out of the old bench seat, slamming the door behind you as you rounded the side of the truck to grab your suitcase from the bed. Jake didn’t get out of the truck or offer to help you with your bags, but after his less-than-happy attempt at making cordial conversation, you didn’t expect anything less. 

You perked back up to the open passenger window, seeing that Jake’s eyes were still darting from side to side out the windows. Why was he so paranoid? 

“Thank you for the ride, I really appreciate it. You’ll let me know when the parts get ordered, and I can give you the cash?” You asked, really not knowing any other way to go about this. 

He nodded his head, biting his cheeks in. 

“Okay, let me go check in, and I’ll come back and tell you my room number so you can phone me.” You said, walking toward the check-in office. 

“I’ll just call and ask for your room.” He muttered, throwing the gear shift into reverse. 

“But, you never even asked me my–”

“I remember your name, Y/N.” He spat, spinning his head around to check his surroundings before he whipped the truck from the parking spot, kicking up dust as he flew back down the road. 

——

Upon entering the check-in office, your eyes had to do little to adjust, as there were barely any lights on at all. The stench of the room itself was like must and rotting wood, with just a hint of Borax and lemon-scented cleaner. You glanced to the large counter that spanned the room, leaving your suitcase behind while you approached it. After a minute or two of waiting, you let your palm gently tap on the bell that sat on the desk, ‘Ring for Service’ written on an old note underneath it. 

“Hi, hello. Could I get a single room for the next week, please?” You asked the gruff woman that finally limped her way from the back room. 

“HUH?” She all but yelled, squinting her eyes as she held her hand up to her ear. She must be hard of hearing. 

You cleared your throat to speak a bit louder. “I’d like a room for the next seven nights, please.” You spoke loudly, mouthing the words clearly as you watched her read your lips. 

“Only room I got’s a double efficiency.” She barked, grabbing a pen as she lifted the glasses that hung from a chain around her neck to rest on her nose. You snarled your nose up in confusion, remembering that you only saw another one or two cars in the lot. 

“I don’t need something that large, it’s just me, if you want to put me in something smalle–”

“Double efficiency.” She said, writing down some number into her oversized ledger book. “It’s $35 a night. I take cash upfront for the whole stay. Fresh linens every other day.”

“Thirty-five a night? Ma’am, isn’t that a bit high?” Your voice was raised on its own now, out of pure surprise at the price. 

“Either that or you ride down to the new Ramada an hour and a half South, and seein’ as how Jake brought you here, it’s lookin’ like the double efficiency for yeh.” 

You seethed as she scribbled the math into her book, her jaws gnawing together as she chewed on nothing. “Two forty-five rate plus sixty-seven tax gives us…” she tapped away loudly at her printing calculator. “Three hundred twelve for the week.”

You felt like throwing up. That took a good chunk from the cash you brought along, but thankfully didn’t drain you completely. Luckily, the money you’d saved up for the wedding was well above what you��d need to survive on, so it didn’t hurt too badly as you begrudgingly counted out the bills from your wallet. 

“Write your name and date here, signature here.” She pointed in her book for you to sign next to room number 7. She smiled a large grin as you laid out the bills for her, her mouth showing no more than a few teeth. As she gave you her best fake smile, you noticed her right eye was almost completely glossed over with a blue sheen. “Need a receipt?”

“No, thank you.” You chirped, wanting to get the hell away from this eerie woman and into your double efficiency as quickly as possible. 

“I’ll bring fresh linens day after. No guests. Here’s your key, don’t lose it, I only got the one. Shower takes a good five minutes to heat, and don’t be smokin’ none of that grass in the room. Stinks up the place.” She said at a high volume while she wagged her finger toward your face. 

You raised your eyebrows at the irony of the smell of the place, nodding her way as you grabbed the key from the countertop. She turned away, taking your wad of cash with her back to the room she came from. “Name’s Wanda if you need anything.”

It was getting to be dark outside now, the dull streetlights barely illuminating the sidewalk enough for you to see the room numbers on the front of the doors as you passed. 

“Five…six…seven.” You whispered to yourself as you dropped the heavy suitcase beside you to fish the key from your pocket. As you slid the key into the slot and twisted the old knob, you were immediately met with the same stench as you were in the lobby. Old and grimey. 

You brought your bag inside and quickly turned to lock the door behind you, sliding the hanging chain into place. You inspected the room, seeing the two beds with old brown comforters laid across them, a nightstand in between, and a single TV on the chest of drawers in the corner. It’ll do. The bathroom wasn’t much better, and it looked as though the calcium and lime deposits on the shower head could kill a man. 

You sighed a deep sigh as you listened to your stomach rumble, your decision to forgo a late lunch at the diner earlier now seeming like a bad idea. The apple you had stashed away in your bag would have to suffice. 

After unpacking a little bit of your clothing from your suitcase and hanging a few things in the closet, you decided to turn on the television and tuck in early for the night. You twisted the knob, watching as the light on the screen came to life, the high-pitched squeal of the staticy screen making your skin crawl. You adjusted the antenna, trying your best to get a better picture of what looked to be the evening news, but it was no use. But, some sound was better than no sound. 

You slipped your top and jeans off and folded them neatly over the bed, planning on wearing them again tomorrow to save on any kind of laundry you’d end up needing to do. An old t-shirt from an old high-school boyfriend would have to be your choice of pajamas for the night. You flicked off the light, and climbed into the starchy sheets, the pillow feeling rock hard under your head. You shook your head as you looked at the ceiling, wondering how in the hell you got yourself into this mess. 

This was supposed to be an adventure. A period of regrowth. A time to just live, find yourself again. Maybe join up with a new tribe of people, try new things, see where the wind would blow you…

But no. You’re here in your old hometown in a sticky motel, with a broken-down car, and no dinner. On the first day of your escape. You crossed your arms across your chest, allowing yourself a second to pout. For a split second, you contemplated going back to Iowa, back to your mother’s, back to the comforts of home, but you’d never return to Peter. Not in a million years, the scumbag. 

You twisted up your nose as your legs rubbed across the hard mattress and scratchy sheets, wondering who the hell the last people to sleep here were, or worse, if Wanda had actually even washed them when they left. 

—

The sound of three quick knocks on your door awoke you from what must have been a light sleep, the noise making your heart immediately pound. You hopped up, snaking across the floor quietly and peeking out of the peephole. You half expected to see a murderer standing at the door, but then, why would they have knocked? 

Must be Wanda. 

No, she doesn’t care about anyone but herself, apparently. 

You squinted your eye to see a ruffle of dark curls in the pale light, standing and swaying back and forth while he waited for you to open the door. 

“Daniel?” You whispered, pulling the door open wide enough that the chain lock pulled taut. “What are you doing?” You pulled the chain free, opening the door all the way. 

His eyes popped out of his head as he took in a quick breath, the look on his face completely surprised, and a little embarrassed. 

“Hey, um…I’m sorry, I…” he muttered, pulling his arm behind his head. 

“No, it’s fine, you just surprised me, that’s all. Is everything…” you pause, noticing he wasn’t shying away from his awkward stance. You suddenly felt the breeze blow across your almost completely uncovered lower-half. 

“Shit!” You yelped, pulling your t-shirt down as far as it would go over your legs. You bounced back into the room, pulling the comforter from the bed to cover yourself. “I’m sorry, I completely didn’t even…”

“No no, I’m sorry.” Danny admitted from the open doorway. “I just came to…”

You wrapped the linen around yourself, a complete cocoon now as you waddled like a mummy back over to him with a shy smile on your face. 

He laughed, his bright white teeth a contrast to the dark complexion of his skin. You felt the pit of your stomach fall at the sight. 

“I just came to see if you wanted to grab a late dinner with me, seeing as how you can’t drive to get anything, and there’s no such thing as room service in a place like this.” He said, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Oh, no, Daniel, that’s awful sweet of you to offer. But, I had an apple, so I’m…all set…” you admitted, the pit of hunger in your stomach getting bigger as the minutes ticked on. 

He furrowed his brow. “You can…call me Danny, if you want. We aren’t complete strangers.”

You felt your eyes sparkle at him. Stop it, Y/N. 

You swallowed. “Okay, Danny…”

“An apple? That’s all you’ve had all day?”

“Yeah. And well, a few sips of coffee earlier…” you admitted, waving him off. “Truly, I’m just fine.”

He stood and stared at you a few seconds longer, his eyes slipping past you and into the empty room behind you. The light of the static-snowed screen reflected off his features, accentuating his face, his jawline, his lips…the tattoos that crawled up his neck…

“Okay, well. I’ll see you around then?” He stated more than asked, before turning on his heels and disappearing down the sidewalk. 

Shit. You were starving. And bored. And not sleepy anymore. And, after letting your eyes wander a little too long on him…you felt…

“Danny!” You called back, seeing him turn with anticipation. “Let me put some pants on?”

He grinned again, and began making his way back toward your door as you popped back inside to re-dress yourself. You quickly pulled your jeans and halter on, and took a second to fluff your hair without him seeing. You grabbed a light jacket and pulled it over your arms, and made sure to slip your room key into your purse before throwing it over your shoulder. 

You stepped back outside the door, catching Danny leaning against the wall smoking. “That was quick.” He said, blowing smoke into the air. You noticed it smelled different than what Jake smoked, it was sweeter and not as rancid. 

“Did you walk here?” You asked him as you locked the door, noticing that there were no new vehicles in the parking lot. 

“Hell no.” He chuckled. “I brought Ruby.”

“Who?”

As you rounded the edge of the building, you saw what he was referring to. An early model motorcycle, a little rusted and definitely dirty, but you could see the red paint peeking out from underneath the dust. 

You watched as he lifted his leg and straddled the seat, pulling his weight over to kick the stand up. He turned the key and revved the engine, walking it forward just a bit as you watched. He motioned with his head for you to hop on, of which you quickly denied. 

“No no, I’ll walk, it’s fine.” You muttered, the engine drowning out the sound of your voice. You backed away, crossing your arms nervously. No way you were going to hop on the back of a motorcycle with a man you hardly knew. In the dark in a strange town, much less. 

“Ah come on, it’ll take you twenty minutes to walk there.” He yelled over the purring, again tilting his head back for you to climb in behind him. He slowly pulled the tie from his hair, letting his elbow-length waves fall before re-gathering it, and twisting at his neck again. He gave you another side smile, raising his eyebrows as he playfully revved the engine again. 

Fuck it. 

You bashfully stepped forward, hiking your leg up over the seat to fit right in behind him, the seat forcing you to press against his back a little more closely than you were comfortable with. And to make things even more awkward, you weren’t sure what to do with your hands. You let them drop to your thighs as he walked the bike forward a little again, turning it before he caught pavement and took off down the road without warning. 

You squealed loudly, your unfamiliarity with riding on the back of a motorcycle startling you completely. Without hesitation and in fear of falling off, your hands wrapped around Danny’s torso, and your feet fell in behind his on the racks. 

“Oh shit!” You yelled as he took off down the road, your arms gripping him tighter as you tried to get your balance. You were positive if you let go for even the tiniest second, you were going to eat rocks. 

“You alright back there?” He asked, turning his head slightly. 

“No, not really! I feel like I’m gonna fall!” You admitted, the wind whipping your hair in all directions. 

“You won’t fall, I won’t let you.” His left hand came down to grasp your fists gathered across his chest, and slowly pushed them downward toward his stomach, instantly making you feel leveled out, and a ton more balanced. He patted your hands there, telling you to leave them. 

Then his hand found your thigh, running his hand along the outside seam of your jeans from your knee to right below your asscheek. What the fuck? Before you could slap the hell out of him, he gripped up under your leg, jerking your forward on the seat to press your chest hard against his back. 

Instantly more centered. 

“Is that better? Still feel like you’re gonna fall?” He asked through the wind. 

You gulped, the rush of the past 13 seconds making your head spin. But he was right, you no longer felt like you were going to topple over. 

“No, yes…it’s better…” you choked out as he began to pick up speed. 

“Good. Hang on.” He ordered, speeding up significantly as you barreled down the dusty pavement. And hang on you did. The wind across your face was literally taking your breath away, and making your eyes water. You blinked away the tears as you focused, truly getting your bearings and relaxing your body against Danny’s to get a feel for the bike beneath you. You took a breath and let your body fall into his back a bit more, the motions of his flexing back muscles pressed up against you as he lifted his foot to switch gears. 

What the hell are you doing? What is happening?

After a whirlwind two or three minutes, you were slowing down and pulling into the parking lot of Louie’s, the same diner you had stopped into earlier for directions. Danny slowed the bike to a crawl and walked it forward before lowering the kickstand. You instinctively pulled your feet to the ground too, only the tips of your toes reaching the dirt below them. 

“Don’t tell me that was your first motorcycle ride…” he said as he leaned his body weight to one side, standing all the way up on solid ground. You followed his action, letting your shaky legs hop off the bike with the help of Danny’s strong hand. 

“Yeah, uh. It was.” You tried to sound nonchalant, like it was no big deal, while on the inside, your body was screaming with nervous adrenaline. You patted your hands over your hair to calm your flyaways, trying your best to keep your cool girl composure. 

“No shit? Well, if I’d have known that I wouldn’t have taken off so quick. You felt like a natural once you got your balance…” he flitted his eyes your way as you began to make your way to the door. 

You gave him a shy smile back. “Are they um. Are they still open? It’s getting late…” you glanced at your watch, finding it to be 9:20pm. 

Danny swung the glass door open, frowning as you walked inside before him. “Oh, yeah. They’re open ‘til midnight. And it’s pork chop night, I never miss pork chop night.”

You walked inside the now neon-lit diner, finding many of the same shady-looking characters as you had seen earlier in the day. You nodded toward the man who gave you the directions to Jake’s, of which he returned with a curt smile. 

“Bubba!” Danny exclaimed, forcefully throwing two hands to the back of the man’s shoulders, startling him from his coffee. “Save any pork chops for me?”

“They’s a few back there, I’m sure. Ain’t too many people in today.” He answered, turning back to his coffee. “Geraldine! Danny’s here for his special!” The man yelled across the bar, moving sideways to see if he could see in through the opening in the wall to the kitchen. 

Just then the same woman in the pink apron waltzed through the double-swinging saloon doors, putting on a giant smile as soon as she saw you and Danny. She made her way around the bar, taking Danny’s face between her hands and squeezing his cheeks. “Evenin’, honey.” Her gruff voice said as she swatted his face. 

“Evenin’, Geraldine.” He answered, obviously this was a woman he respected. She turned and found her place again behind the bar, reaching into her apron pocket for her pen and order pad. You and Danny walked to a booth in the middle of the restaurant, and you moved to sit down before he stopped you. 

“Hmm-mm, let me sit there. Wanna see the door.” He said, grabbing your shoulders to scoot you sideways to the opposite booth. 

“Okay…what for?” You questioned. 

“I recognize this one from earlier today, hardly touched her coffee. You make it to Ace’s, honey?” Geraldine interrupted without making eye contact with you as she scribbled something down on her order pad. 

Danny cleared his throat and looked to you, raising his eyebrows. 

“Oh! Me! Yes ma’am, I barely made it, but uh. Got it there before it could die on me. They’re going to fix it right up.” You answered, feeling silly for having to practically yell your business across the diner to answer her. You watched the man you now knew as Bubba turn in his stool, holding the same flat smile as he did when you first came inside. 

“The normal, Danny?” Geraldine asked. 

“Yes please, thanks.” He replied, poking his wrapped silverware onto the tabletop. 

“And for the lady?” She went on. 

You looked down to see no menu in front of you, so you decided to go with your gut. “Um, I’ll have what he’s having?” Your tone was questioning. 

Geraldine smiled. “Pork chop in gravy, mashed potatoes, carrots, and peas, sweetie.”

“Oh, perfect. All but the peas, please.” You replied, watching as Geraldine nodded and made her way back into the kitchen. 

“Why don’t you like peas? They’re good for you.” Danny said, stretching his arm across the back of the booth behind him. You swallowed hard, recalling the memory of the peas rolling across the floor of Peter’s office. The smell of them smashed against your shoes, still fresh in your mind, and easily makes your stomach turn just from the thought. 

“Never been a fan.” You answered, resting your chin in your hand. 

Danny pursed his lips together, leaning in now across the table toward you. You watched as a tiny strand of hair fell in front of his eye, his tongue stuck to the back of his teeth as he inhaled. “I would’ve eaten your peas, Y/N. Tsk tsk.” 

You looked at him in amused confusion, unsure of what his angle really was. After being around him only a grand total of maybe an hour the entire day, you gathered that you could hardly tell if he was joking or serious at any given time. But his overall demeanor was kind, and playful, and he had invited you here tonight, so you intended on learning him better. 

Just while you were here, of course. 

Suddenly two steaming black coffees were placed in front of you, the aroma bringing your senses back to life again. “Cream, sweetie?” Geraldine asked, placing a tiny metal pitcher full of the milky liquid in front of you and turning away before you could answer. 

You poured the cream in, stirring it together until it was mixed, and you blew on it before you took a slow sip, Danny watching your every move intently. 

“Something I can help you with?” You asked him, commenting on his unwelcome stare. 

He snarled his top lip as he shook his head and readjusted in his seat. You took a second to look at him, hoping to maybe intimidate him right back. His dark waves still balled up at his neck, the loose strands falling as curls in front of his face and behind his ears. His tightened jaw and cocked eyebrow letting you know he was still sizing you up. His old black Ford Motors t-shirt stretched tightly across his buff chest and arms, the worn holes around the collar letting you know it was well-loved and worn-in. 

“So. Elementary school. You were there…” he finally spoke up, lighting another sweet-smelling smoke. 

“St. James, yeah. I think you were a couple of years behind me.” You answered, sipping your coffee. 

“Mhmm.” He hummed, taking a puff. “You left in the middle of the year.” 

“How do you remember that?” You asked, realizing he would have only been in the first grade when you left. 

“Because suddenly we didn’t have enough people to have even teams for kickball. You left and we were a man short. Had to ask Willie Addams to play and he couldn’t run for shit. Had the coordination of a fuckin’ baby giraffe.” 

You giggled at him, almost spitting out your coffee. “Ok, how do you remember that?” You pressed. “You were like 6.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Jake says I have the memory of an elephant, whatever the fuck that means. Anyway, enough talk about zoo animals. Where were you really headed, Y/N? Before you got stuck here with us…” He leaned again, and you noticed his eyes began anxiously darting around, just like Jake’s had done earlier. 

You purposely waited for him to make eye contact with you again, finding it rude that he was looking everywhere but at your face after asking you a question. When he finally did, you answered. 

“I was heading to Atlanta. From Salvation, Iowa.” You replied honestly. “Why?”

“People don’t normally just casually cruise back through their hometown unless they’re looking for something.” He said dryly, taking a sip of his coffee. The white ceramic mug looked tiny in his giant inked hand. 

“Well I’m not people. I wasn’t looking for anything, I just—”

“So you were running.” He raised his eyebrows again, knowing he had struck some type of gold from the obviously surprised look on your face. 

You stayed silent for a beat. He laughed through his nose. 

“I wasn’t running, I was…just, getting away. It’s different.” You tried to dismiss his prying questions, wanting nothing more than for Geraldine to bring you a heaping pile of mashed potatoes so you wouldn’t have to go on about your wasted adventure with a man you hardly knew from Adam. 

“But you left home for a reason, right?” He went on. “If people plan to move, they usually bring along more than a couple suitcases and their old wedding dress, Y/N. You’re telling me you left your makeup vanity and trunk and sofa at home?” 

Fuck. You didn’t wanna talk about this. 

When you stayed silent again, he laughed in satisfaction. “You were running.”

You leaned in close. “Look, if you want to know every detail of my life, you’re gonna have to do a little more than invite me to dinner, Daniel.” You spat. 

“What if I already planned to do a little more?” He inferred, sitting back against the booth and running his hand along his slicked-back hair. 

You choked back. “That’s an awfully forward thing to say to someone you just met.”

“I didn’t just meet you. I knew you in the first grade. And I know I was upset when you weren’t there to play kickball any more.” His eyes began scanning the windows again, jumping back and forth as he spoke. Your heart began racing at his words. 

“Why do you care, Danny? About what I’m doing here?” You asked, truly wanting to know. 

He shrugged, taking another draw of his smoke. “You seem like a fun little challenge. I like challenges. Mysteries. Cracking codes…”

You scoffed. “Well, you sure as hell ain’t cracking anything of mine.”

“Yeah? We’ll see about that one.” The side of his lips curled up as you caught onto his flirtation.  Danny let his smoke hang between his lips as he rubbed his hands together, his fingernails still dirty from the workday. 

You were simultaneously turned off and turned on by his strange way of coming on to you; you knew that was what he was doing, but in some odd way, it was charming. You felt safe with him, even if his way of flirting was nothing like anything you’d ever seen before. 

In the nick of time, Geraldine brought your plates over, setting them in front of you with harsh thuds. “Alright one sans peas, one extra peas. Refill of coffee, and I’ll be back in a bit to check on ya.” 

“Thank you, ma’am.” Danny muttered. 

You held his deep gaze as you unrolled your silverware from the tight napkin, and dug directly in to the mashed potatoes without hesitation. He licked his tongue across his teeth as he followed your motions. The two of you ate in silence, and you let yourself enjoy the hot meal in front of you, wondering if Danny would let you forgo the motorcycle ride, and just walk home. 

After a basically wordless and slightly awkward meal, Danny sat and watched as you finished off your coffee, still pushing a pea around the plate with the end of his fork. 

“Good pork chops, right?” He finally asked. 

“Might be the best ones I’ve ever had.” You replied honestly. But you had been so hungry, you might’ve thought shoe leather sounded appetizing had you waited any longer. That apple was long gone. 

“I wouldn’t steer you wrong.” He growled, another sly smile creeping to his face. He stretched his neck, the thin lines of the spider web tattoo bulging over his artery. “What are your plans for the night?”  

You placed your napkin and silverware on top of the empty plate, pushing it back a bit to fold your arms across the table. “Sleep.” 

“Well that doesn’t sound like any fun.” He laughed, and if you didn’t know him any better, you would’ve thought he really didn’t believe you. 

“What? That’s really all I’m doing…what else would I do?” You asked sternly. “I don’t know anyone, I don’t have a car, this podunk town doesn’t have much to offer, Danny.”

He sighed as he put his elbows on the table, the sleeves of the tight shirt pulling against his biceps. You took a second to glance at his arms, tanned and bronze from the sun. The black-lined and barely-colored tattoos that covered his arms instantly piqued your interest, but you couldn’t let him know you were looking. In your three-second glance, you noticed the set of dice on the inside of his wrist, some type of messy writing along the inside of his forearm, and a tiger’s face peeking out from under the short sleeve of his shirt. And that was only the few your mind comprehended. 

“You’re right. Ain’t much here. But it can be a good time if you know what you’re looking for.” He raised his eyebrow in question. 

You shook your head. “Not me, thanks. I’d rather not have my face hanging on missing posters around town next week.”

“Why would you say that?” He was taken back. 

“Because you haven’t stopped darting your eyes to the door and out the windows since we got here. Your body language is forcibly relaxed, you’re a little on edge, and I think you’re kind of paranoid. I don’t know why, but you don’t seem like you feel safe in your own town, Danny.” 

He huffed an exasperated laugh. “Of course I feel safe here, why would I live here if I didn’t?” He said defensively. 

“How did you know what room I was in?” You asked, craning your neck sideways. “Jake left before I checked in today. Did you ask Wanda so you could keep tabs on me?”

You clicked your tongue as his eyes bulged from his head at your words. “That’s what I thought. Oh, and you have a switchblade knife stuffed in your boot.”

“How do you know that?” He muttered. 

“Saw it when your pants hiked up when you got off the motorcycle.” You pushed the plate a little further back on the table, and grabbed your purse to make your way to the cash register. You pulled a few crumpled dollars from your wallet and tossed them onto the table. You stood and came to the edge of the booth, leaning down close to Danny’s face to whisper. “If I didn’t know any better, it’d seem that you’re the one who’s running, Danny.”

You gave him a displeased look and turned, snaking your way through the empty tables to pay Geraldine for your suppers. “Thank you, sweetie. Y’all have a good rest of your evenin…” Geraldine said as the cash register dinged closed. You gave Bubba another nod before making your way to the door. You glanced back to Danny, who was still sitting stunned in the wooden booth. 

“You takin’ me back to the motel, or what?”

——

This time, finding your balance on the motorcycle was easy, like you’d been doing it for a hundred years. Danny hadn’t said a word since you left the diner, only offering Bubba and Geraldine a quiet “goodnight”. You pressed your front against Danny’s back, leaning into him as you wrapped your hands around his lower abdomen and sturdied your feet behind his. You let the shyness from earlier drift away, feeling more confident now that you’d spoken your piece to Danny. 

As he picked up speed down the busted pavement, you let your mind wander a bit. 

Ha, he thought he had you pegged. Thought you were another dumb female he could trick into his bed. Pshh. Asking you your plans for the night… please. Though going back to your room alone sounded less than exciting now that your stomach was full. And you were more awake than ever…and he had kind of offered…

No. No way. You didn’t know Danny. 

‘It can be a good time if you know what you’re looking for…’

No. Horrible idea. Sleep. 

Shower, and sleep. 

Just as you made your mind up, you felt Danny’s hand run along the outside of your leg again. What is he doing? He wasn’t cautious, he was confident. Like the motion was the most natural thing he’d ever done. You could feel the heat from his hand radiating through the denim of your jeans, and though his touch was unwelcome, you let it happen. Why were you letting it happen?

He didn’t need to pull you forward into him like he had earlier, you were already pressed against him as far as you could get. You watched as his shoulder flexed as his arm reached back and down to your leg, his fingers gliding lightly over your thigh while he steered with his other hand. Shit, the heat of his touch…

You let your chest press into him just a little closer, and the contact made your nipples instantly stand at attention. Your choice to not wear a bra tonight was silently working against you. But damn, you couldn’t deny…this man was attractive. Very attractive. And you already couldn’t deny the physical chemistry between you, his hand so nonchalantly petting your thigh while his other gripped the handlebar. 

You felt him take a deep breath, his grip tightening on your leg muscle. You realized your other hand had been resting gently on his stomach, holding on tightly as he navigated the bumpy streets. In an act of pure confidence, you let your thumb drift a few inches down, and loop into the hem of his jeans, your other fingers gripping onto his leather belt. With your motion, his hand tightened again, his thumb swiping back and forth as he let his hand drift further back. 

Your mind was frenzied, suddenly your stomach felt tightly wound with an unknown and unwarranted anticipation. Danny removed his hand from your thigh, and kicked his right foot a couple times to shift the bike down. He gripped the bars and turned, and suddenly you were in front of your motel room door. Damn, you hadn’t even noticed you were here already. 

He pulled the kickstand down as he shut off the bike, and you quickly pulled your hand from the way-too-intimate place near his groin. He stood and stepped off the bike, and you followed behind. You cleared your throat as you resituated your purse on your shoulder, suddenly feeling exposed. You pulled your jacket over your chest, and reached into your bag to find the room key. 

“Thanks for the ride.” You purred. 

“Thanks for dinner, I was supposed to pay, you know. I invited you out…”

“No, no. It’s my pleasure, seeing as how you thought of me, and all.” You answered, making your way to unlock the old doorknob. You felt Danny follow behind, walking you to the door. He had shoved his hands in his pockets, and his closed-off demeanor returned, quite the opposite of the confidence he dripped on the bike. 

You unlocked the door and pushed it open, flicking on the light inside. Danny stood in the threshold as you dispensed your purse on the table. 

“You were right. I did ask Wanda what room you were in. And before you get freaked out, it wasn’t because I was trying to keep tabs on you. Not in the way you’re thinking, at least.” He said, glancing side to side down either way of the sidewalk before he stepped inside the room just a little. “Y/N, look. You’re right. This town can be dangerous. It ain’t a five-star city. There is a lot that goes on behind closed doors here. So yes, I wanted to know where you were because—”

“You want to keep an eye on me. I get it. I owe you and Jake money, still.” You quipped, unsure of how to feel about that. 

He nodded slowly, leaning his shoulder on the doorframe as he crossed his flexed arms. “Well, yes, but…It’s more for your well-being, Y/N. That’s all. There are some…shady creatures here.” He mumbled, stepping a little further inside. 

You slowly sat down on the bed, feeling the stiff mattress squeak beneath you. His steps were heavy as he came further inside, slowly, his eye contact making you feel like you were going to forget how to breathe. You leaned back on your arms, the gritty brown comforter rough under your fingertips. “Are you one of those…shady creatures?” You asked, barely above a whisper as you found him standing almost directly between your legs. 

He lifted his almost completely-inked hand and pushed away a tiny strand of hair that had fallen across your forehead, brushing it back to join the rest of your hair. Your heart rate picked up at his subtle touch, his calloused and dirty fingertips just barely grazing the side of your face. “Guess it depends on who you ask…” his words were slow, his bottom lip biting slowly into his mouth as he spoke. 

Your breath caught in your throat, and you instantly felt the same chemistry as earlier begin to ravage your body again. He was towering over you so close, your legs pressed apart by the outsides of his. His knees touched the edge of the bed, and you could tell his hands were arguing with his brain about touching you again. Somewhere. Anywhere. 

He pushed your hair back again, drifting his hand down your cheek and finally to your chin, his thumb and pointer working as a team to slowly crane your neck up to look him in the eyes. Your hands were begging you to rake your nails up underneath his tight t-shirt, just to get a feel of what was beneath it. But you didn’t. 

“You’re different, aren’t you, Y/N?” He finally whispered. 

“Mmm, what do you mean?” 

He furrowed his brow as he lightly squeezed your chin between his fingers, his eyes studying every detail of your face. 

“I dunno…you just have something about you. Can’t quite put my finger on it yet.” He bit his lip again. You felt a ragged breath escape your lungs, and you hoped to god your body language wasn’t reflecting how you felt right now. 

“But, I intend on figuring you out.” His thumb drifted up a bit, barely ghosting over your bottom lip. It took everything in you to not pull it into your mouth, reach your tongue out and taste him, but you stopped yourself. Can’t go there tonight, as much as you really wanted to. 

Against every coherent thought, your knees pressed in toward each other, searching for some type of relief, causing Danny’s body to move in a bit closer to you. A low laugh left his chest as he continued to brush his thumb over your lip, pressing a little harder when you made him fall into you. “A fuckin’ gem, aren’t you?” 

You swallowed, unsure how to answer. Or how to think, for that matter. This gorgeous man standing between your legs in your hotel room, you barely know him at all…but already you felt like you could grip the soft cotton of his t-shirt and yank him down into the bed beside you, and have your way with him until the sun came up. Because, what do you have to lose?

“Will have a ride for you tomorrow. Get some sleep.” He muttered, his eyelids hooded over his deep brown eyes as he peered down to you. You watched his Adams apple jerk as he swallowed, regaining the same composure you were begging yourself to find. He stepped back and turned to exit through the still-open door. “Lock this behind me.”

And before you could gather even the simplest thought, he was gone. 

—

You stood naked in front of the scratched and lopsided hanging mirror in the bathroom, waiting the long five minutes for the shower to heat, just as Wanda had said. Your skin was still flushed from the close intensity from Danny just a few short minutes ago, and your heart rate was just now slowing from the interaction. 

Shit. You aren’t supposed to feel these things…you just left Peter. You were on the search to enrich your life, go wild, not add drama and danger to it…

But, you had set out in search of an adventure, could this be it? Could this strange, gritty, already confusing mechanic be your ticket to letting loose? You’d never had those young years to explore yourself and sow your oats; Peter was one of your very first serious boyfriends ever, and one of only a handful of partners you’d had before that. Half of your mind was terrified from Danny’s words of warning, and the other half of you said fuck it, chase it. Why not? What do you honestly have to lose at this point? 

You stepped into the now steaming shower and began to suds up the plain white bar of soap that was wrapped up on the countertop. You let the hot streams of water calm your muscles and your nerves as you ran over the events of your crazy day. 

‘Will have a ride for you tomorrow…’ 

What did that mean? You chalked it up to he would probably be picking you up again in the morning to go back to the garage to give a down payment, or something. Either way, you’d wake up to a new day, and you were already hoping it’d be just as eventful as today. 

——

The growling sound of an engine outside the motel startled you from your daydream as you watched the picture on the television blur and scatter back and forth. A glance at your watch told you it was 10am exactly, and you walked to the peephole to see who had pulled up. 

It wasn’t the person you expected to see. You unlocked the door and swung it open, the still misty morning air chilling your face. 

“Jake, morning. What are you—”

“You ready to sign your quote? I’m ordering the parts today.” He interrupted as he slammed his truck door shut. 

“Yeah, yeah. Just let me grab my bag.” You stepped back inside, slightly confused; you fully expected to see Danny pull up on his motorcycle to whisk you away again. 

You stepped outside and locked the door behind you, and you and Jake both hopped up into the truck. Jake was silent again, and you were coming to realize he didn’t speak unless it was completely necessary, or unless spoken to. He was a man of few words, but you gathered that he probably wasn’t being outwardly rude, just was his nature to be quiet. You hoped, at least. 

He reached down and cranked his window, the air blowing his freshly-showered scent around in the cab of the truck. The scent of Brut after-shave tingled in your nose; you’d know that smell anywhere. It made you look his way, seeing that his skin was actually visible now that he wasn’t covered in grease and dirt. His hand gripped the tree, shifting it to third as his speed leveled out on the road. 

His hands were completely covered in tattoos just like Danny’s were, and they crawled up his wrist and forearm, all the way to his shoulder and into his neck. His cutoff t-shirt exposed his chest and side, also covered in a swirling piece of art that was laced with deep reds and blues. There were hundreds of them. And you were willing to bargain that each and every one had a story. 

His ever-present cigarette hung between his lips as he stayed focused on the road, his shoulder length locks whipping around in the wind. You hadn’t seen him like this yet…clean, natural, and normal. His demeanor was the same as it was yesterday, straightforward and no-nonsense. 

“That’s yours, if you want it.” He gestured between you on the bench seat, pointing to a large biscuit wrapped up in wax paper. “I couldn’t eat two.”

“Oh, that’s nice of you. Thanks.” You began to unwrap it and tear off little pieces, bringing them shyly to your mouth. “Didn't poison it, did you?” 

He huffed what you think was a laugh through his nose. “No. If you died I’d have to steal the part money from your purse, and I don’t want to do that.” Was that his attempt at a joke?

You giggled, again unsure how to take him. 

“Where’s Danny? I figured he’d be the one scooping me up after last night.” You asked, taking another bite of biscuit. 

His head shot your way, his eyes narrowed. “Last night?”

“Yeah, he picked me up on his bike, we got some food at Louie’s. Said he’d be back today.” Now that you thought about it, he never actually said he would be the one picking you up, just that there would be a ride for you here today. 

“Ah, so he took you on a date.” Jake muttered, his voice low again over the radio. 

“No, it wasn’t a date. He just invited me to eat with him. Knew I shouldn’t walk through town to get food by myself. He was being thoughtful.” You suddenly felt defensive of Danny. 

“Thoughtful. So, a date.” Jake responded, blowing smoke out the window before flicking the cigarette onto the road. 

“So what if it was?” You decided to play along. “What would it matter?” 

He shook his head with a mock laugh. “Danny is a nice guy, but he doesn’t take women on dates. That I can assure you.” 

You felt offended. “So, what, just a one night stand kind of guy?” 

Jake let a one-syllable laugh fall from his lips as he raised his eyebrows, shifting back down to make the tight turn up the hill to the shop. “Guess you could say that.” 

Why was he always so vague? 

Just as you were nearing the shop, Jake reached his arm across the bench seat and across your lap, leaning almost all the way onto you to crank the window all the way down. He rolled the handle quickly, his bicep muscle flexing hard right in front of your eyes. 

“Oh, sorry, I could have done that–” you sputtered. 

“It’s a son of a bitch to roll, requires a little bit of elbow grease.” He said before throwing the truck in park and shutting off the engine. “I’ve got your paperwork ready, all you have to do is sign for the total and put half down. Rest will be due when it’s fixed.”

He was halfway out of the truck and still talking, so you clambered your way out, too, to make sure you caught the tail end of what he was saying. The two of you walked into the shop, vehicles already pulled into the bay with the hoods popped. Loud music was coming from an old radio on a high shelf, an old Johnny Cash song bouncing off the walls. 

“Daniel, can you please turn that fucking shit down? Jesus Christ!” Jake yelled. 

You watched as Danny’s curls emerged out from underneath an old Cadillac, his feet pushing him out as he laid on a creeper. He gave you a quick tiny smile when you made upside-down eye contact. 

“When you open the shop on time and get in here when you’re fuckin’ supposed to, maybe I’ll consider your goddamn propositions, Jake. I mean shit, we live here.” He rolled all the way out and stood from the creeper, watching as Jake slowly ascended the old metal stairs on the side of the building. “I’ve been the only one here since fuckin’ 7:00. Why the fuck would I turn my music down if I’m the only one getting my fuckin’ hands dirty?” Danny spat. 

You looked up onto the lofted area of the shop, watching as Jake topped the steps and walked across, flipping Danny the bird from above before looking to you and switching his middle finger to his pointer, signaling for you to ‘come here’, and follow him up the stairs. 

You hopped into action, making your way to the staircase to follow Jake to the top. When you got up there, you looked around to find this was the office area. Tons and tons of old papers stacked away in messy piles, collecting dust and dirt. Boxes that held forgotten parts, shelves filled to the brim with old 3-ring binders, dusty photos on the wall, and in the center of it all, an old wooden desk with a chair that had seen better days. You watched as Jake pulled the string hanging from a single fluorescent light, plopping into the chair as the light buzzed to life. 

He pulled on a pair of thin wired readers, peering down to a ledger that looked similar to the one Wanda took your room reservation in. He was fingering through a parts manual and double checking his work on a calculator, so you took a second to look at a few of the black and white photos hanging framed on the wall. 

One, a larger photo, hung right in the middle of the rest. It was a man in a white tank top, dirty as can be, a pair of old slacks pulled up to his belly button. He was leaned with his back against an old black Chevelle, a cigarette hanging from his lips. He wasn’t smiling, just standing stoically with his arms crossed across his chest. He looked strikingly exactly like Jake, except the photo must have been taken when the man was a bit older than Jake is now. 

“Jake, this man looks just like you…is he—”

“Was. My father, yes.” He said, voice flat. 

“Handsome…” you muttered. “Was this his shop before it was yours?” 

He nodded, still looking to his ledger. “Yeah. Ace.”

You pulled your eyes from the photo, walking slowly back to the desk. “Ace…Ace’s garage. How long has he…been gone?” You wanted to put the words right back into your mouth as soon as they left it. It wasn’t any of your business. 

“He died the day before my eighteenth birthday. You wanna come sign here?” Jake said, extending a pen out for you. 

Damn, Jake. That’s heavy. 

You walked over to take a look at the estimate, seeing that the price was actually not as much as you thought it would be. “So half now, half when it’s done?” You reiterated, signing your name across the slip of paper. 

“Yep.” He responded shortly. 

You reached into your purse and pulled out the white envelope of your cash, counting it out in hundreds and fifties. As you slowly counted out loud, you took special care to run your fingers over the stiff new bills, making sure none stuck together. In the middle of them all was an old fifty dollar bill, a giant red “X” drawn across the President’s face. 

“Someone didn’t like Grant, I guess.” You laughed, trying to break the awkward silence as he watched you count. 

When you were finally finished, you gathered the bills up and handed them to Jake in a nice neat stack. “Thanks.” He said, taking the cash and stuffing it in a till box before shoving it in a safe. 

“Thank you. Hey, think I could use your restroom really quickly?” You asked, feeling like your bladder was about to burst with shitty motel room coffee. 

He threw his glasses down onto the table and pulled the light off, giving you a funny look before leading you back toward the stairs again. “Only bathroom here is mine and Danny’s, probably ain’t the cleanest.” He said as he quickly jumped down the steps. 

“It’s no problem.” You answered. How bad could it be?

He led you underneath the loft and through a door, into a dark hallway with multiple doors. “Last one on the left.” Jake hit the wall with his palm before walking back into the bay. 

This must be the part they live in. As you passed by the other doors, one was closed, and the other was cracked open to reveal what looked to be a messy bedroom. A mattress on the floor covered in disheveled blankets, liquor bottles on the makeshift nightstand, and clothes strewn about. 

When you finally reached the bathroom door, what you found inside was nothing short of disgusting. Although he had warned you…

One light bulb hanging from the ceiling, the sink full of hair and stained black from the grease off their hands, a completely black toothpaste tube that didn’t have a lid, flattened toothbrushes that were missing half of their bristles…

The list went on as you looked around in utter disgust. Men are so gross.  You were positive the place had never been cleaned. 

You swallowed and held your breath as you opened the broken toilet lid, finding it less-than-desirable with a ring in the bowl. You shuddered at what you were about to do, but if you didn’t pee right now you were going to have to resort to the woods out back. Would probably be cleaner out there, actually…but at least there is toilet paper. 

You tried not to think too hard about it as you quickly relieved yourself, using a small piece of toilet paper to touch the lever handle to flush. 

“Ew ew ew ew.” You mumbled, deciding to not even wash your hands at the risk of dirtying them further. But even if you had, your drying options were toilet paper or their stained to hell bath towels hanging over the rod.

You were entirely grossed out, and decided to get back out to the bay as soon as you could. You flicked the light switch and reentered the hallway, noticing that the closed door across the way was opening at the same time. 

To your surprise, a woman emerged from the room, slowly closing the door behind her. She had to be about ten years your senior, at least. 

“Hey, Sug.” She murmured, rubbing sleep from her eyes. When she turned to face you, you noticed what she was wearing. 

Danny’s black Ford Motors t-shirt he had on last night. 

Your stomach dropped, suddenly it hit you exactly why he wasn’t the one picking you up this morning. 

You gave her a tight smile and a simple “Good morning” as her keys jingled in her hand. Her makeup was definitely left over from last night, and she was carrying a pair of red high heels. 

“I haven’t seen you ‘round here before…” she said, her voice still raspy with sleep. 

“Oh, I’m…I’m a customer. They’re fixing my car. Just was…using the restroom.” You explained. 

“Oh honey, no one’s ever just a customer…” She winked, before leading the two of you back out into the bay. 

Whose room did she just come from?

—

JAKE POV

Fuck this god damn piece of shit Chevrolet. 

Two weeks you’ve been working on this fuckin’ truck, and in those two weeks you had gotten barely anything accomplished with rebuilding the motor. And now you had another to do on top of it.

Isn’t it supposed to be Fords that have engine trouble? American muscle my ass. They’re all shit. 

You stepped up onto the step ladder and peered back down into the belly of your newest arch-nemesis, cursing at its guts with every turn of your wrench. You look down to the floor spitting before turning your attention back under the hood.

Come on Ace. What is wrong with this son of a bitch? Help me out…

You glanced over to Danny, watching as he walked outside to empty his stomach again after the late night he’d had. Out all night drinking with his latest piece, stumbling back into the shop at 3am. Then he was back up at 7? You weren’t sure where he got his stamina…maybe he just didn’t sleep at all. 

As you compiled the list of parts you’d need for Y/N’s engine last night, Danny swung by your office to tell you he was leaving, only to peer over your shoulder and see her name at the top of the Quote sheet.

“She’s a fuckin’ smokeshow…” 

“Can you please try not to sleep with this one? She seems like a decent human being… You don’t have to sleep with all of them you know.” you’d joked. 

“Jesus, Jake. I’m not that bad of a person. Cut me some slack. Just cause you haven’t gotten laid in few months doesn’t mean you have to shit on me…”

You’d pushed up from your chair and slammed your hands into his shoulders, pushing him back against the wall behind you, but his height was no match for you. 

“Fuck you, Daniel. Just…listen to me. I saw her making eyes at you…Don’t fuck this up for us.” you said. 

“Did you really?” You’d watched as his gears began to turn. “What was her room number?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know, Danny. You’re not going to her motel. Just leave her be.” You tried your best to warn him nicely. “Like you told me, she’s a paying customer. We need her to pay us…”

He sighed when he realized. “Shit. You’re right, damnit. Okay, okay. I won’t go.”

But, from the conversation you had with Y/N on the ride in this morning, you realized the fucker lied to you. He went anyway and she was clearly all about it. 

You wanted to warn her. You tried to tell her that Danny was a one night stand type, that he didn’t wine and dine like the regular guy would, but apparently she didn’t listen, either.  

As a bolt finally popped loose, it fell into the engine, tipping you over the edge of insanity.

Fuck! This! Truck!

You jumped off of the ladder and went over to the fridge under the loft, grabbing a cold Budweiser from the dirty shelf. You held the neck of the amber bottle on the edge of your toolbox, smashing your fist down on the lid, effectively popping it off. You tilted it back, letting the cold beverage run down your throat as you swallowed. Nothing like a breakfast beer. 

Just then, you heard the shop door close and two sets of footsteps making their way out. All you could do was watch as the perfect storm brewed right in front of your eyes. How the fuck was he gonna explain this one... Y/N, Danny, and whoever his woman of the night was, all waltzing into the middle of the bay at the exact same time. As you caught sight of the woman you let out a scoff. 

Fuck, Danny. 

Tanya. The woman that lived in that house down on Robertson, hardly any personality at all, great tits, and apparently she was a panther in bed. Or so you’d heard. She was nice enough, and Danny always ended up bringing her around every couple of months. You didn’t dislike her, but you sure as hell didn’t want to be her friend, either. You didn’t trust her as far as you could throw her, and last you heard, she was involved with some folks you didn’t need to be associating with. 

You paused with your beer in hand, sticking the other in your pocket as you watched the scene unfold. Your fingers twirled around a lug nut as your eyes followed Tanya, walking directly up to Daniel, wrapping her long skinny arms around his neck, and pulling him in for one last long, and especially involved, goodbye kiss. This wasn’t her typical goodbye, and you knew she was marking her territory in front of Y/N. Which is why you laughed, knowing that she wouldn’t hear from Daniel for at least a month. However, it wasn’t lost on you, the tense nature of Daniel’s body as she kissed him. His eyes open wide and looking across the bay towards Y/N.

Your eyes drifted directly to Y/N, watching as her face fell into utter disbelief. Her jaw fell slack for a second before she clamped it shut again, obviously feeling something unexpected from the sight in front of her. Whatever little daydream she had dreamed up between the two of them had all just come crashing down.

You noticed she suddenly felt out of place, bringing her embarrassed eyes to meet yours in question. You smirked, raising an eyebrow as you sipped your beer as smugly as you could. You shrugged your shoulders and raised your beer bottle in the air towards her as you watched her face flame red.

Hate to say I told ya so, baby. 

—

HER POV

You have got to get out of here. 

But where the hell are you gonna go?

You let your feet carry you out the bay garage door out into the heat of the day, wanting to be anywhere but inside that damn building right now. Why did it matter? Why did you care?

The moment you and Danny shared last night was anything but fantastic, but it was still there. It was intimate, though he had done nothing but skim his fingertips across your face. 

You didn’t care. It’s no big deal. 

But why did he look at you while he kissed her? And why was Jake so amused by it?

You stomped across the dirt parking lot to your Scout, flinging the door open to dig around and find anything that could offer up a distraction. You unzipped a suitcase, finding all of your clothing still neatly folded and tucked away. Underneath a pair of old ratted bell bottoms, you pulled out your ticket to diversion from Danny for the rest of the day: Maya Angelou’s complete collection of poems. 

Perfect. 

The book was worn around the edges, you had read it so much as a kid. You practically had every poem memorized. 

After replacing your folded clothing neatly back in the suitcase, you decided you had to make your way back inside at some point…you knew they had a full workday ahead, and it would be rude to ask for a ride back to the motel at this point. 

You slammed the door shut, shielding your eyes from the bright sun directly above. The shadowy silhouette of Tanya was walking toward you as you walked toward the building, still barefoot and wobbly as she crept across the dirt and gravel toward the road. You swallowed hard, knowing an interaction was unavoidable at this point. 

“Catch ya around, sweetcheeks.” She said as your paths crossed. She let her body come close to yours, her shoulder bumping into your chest as she stumbled. “And just so ya know, the tall, dark, and handsome one?” She pointed her finger tip into her own chest. “Mine. Got it, Iowa?”

You snarled your nose up to her at her display; you could still smell the liquor on her breath from last night. Her eyes were hazed and obviously still high on whatever it was she was doing the night before. 

“No worries on my end.” You said blankly, wanting to get the hell away from her while simultaneously wanting to punch her in the face for assuming you wanted Danny. 

You kept walking past her back into the shop, walking on the other side of the truck Jake was working on to stay as far away from Danny as you could. You didn’t want to risk him noticing that you even cared. 

You sat down in one of the ratty, dirty lawn chairs alongside the wall where Jake was working, getting as comfortable as you could before opening your book. You wanted to get lost in the words, letting them bring you back down to earth in a way only poetry could. 

You glanced to Danny as he stepped up on the wall of shelves on his side of the bay, reaching high above his head to turn the knob on his radio up to a higher volume. He hopped down, a giant cheesing smile across his face as ‘Fortunate Son’ blared from the speaker. Jake slowly raised his head from under the hood of the truck, shaking it from side to side as he stared Danny down. You realized then that’s why Danny put his stereo up so high, so that Jake physically couldn’t reach it. 

You flipped the pages of your book for the next half hour or so, letting Maya’s words take you to another planet entirely. You listened to the sounds of their socket wrenches and power tools as they worked away, providing a surprisingly relaxing background sound. 

“Whatcha reading?” Jake’s voice was barely audible over the loud noises around you. You closed the book cover, holding your fingers between the pages to keep your spot. 

“Maya Angelou’s poems. Kinda corny, I know. But–”

“The caged bird sings with fearful trill

of the things unknown but longed for still

and his tune is heard on the distant hill

for the caged bird sings of freedom.”

Your jaw fell open as Jake finished reciting Maya’s most famous poem to a tee, not faltering over any word and pausing at the most perfect times for the poem to hold its structure. 

He hadn’t pulled his focus away from what he was doing until he realized you didn’t respond, then grinned a smile so big it made your heart stop. 

“How did you…? You know Ms. Angelou?”

“My mom loved her. Read me her poems as a kid before I could even walk. I don’t remember the sound of my mom’s voice, but those words stuck with me.” He said, only glancing up to you every few words as he kept focused. 

You were floored. This was not something you expected from Jake, let alone for him to open up about his explanation as to why he knew of her work. You felt a warmth in your stomach…maybe there was something sweet under his tough exterior after all. 

After a bit, the shop telephone started ringing. You looked to both of the guys as they worked, realizing neither of them even noticed it was ringing. Maybe the phone doesn’t work? A couple minutes later, it started again, ringing and ringing off the hook for so long the shrillness started to irritate your ears. 

“Do you want me to go get that, or what?” You asked. Jake scoffed an exasperated sigh, hopping backwards off his step stool as he pulled his red towel from his back pocket of his coveralls. He wiped his hands as best he could as he rushed up the steps to answer it. 

You glanced to Danny, watching as he leaned over the hood of the car he was working on, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his arm. You hadn’t made eye contact or spoken since Tanya left a while ago, and you had to admit, it pissed you off a little. After last night’s…moment… he at least owed you something, right? 

Once he noticed Jake was all the way upstairs, he confidently walked over your way, twirling his own towel in his hands. “You gonna let me buy you lunch today?” He asked. 

“Why should I do that?” You answered blankly, not looking up from your book. 

“Because I’m hungry, I know you’re hungry, and you bought dinner. It’s only fair.” He was so matter of fact. 

“Are you not meeting back up with Miss Red High Heels for lunch today?” Shit. Your attitude ended up getting the better of you. 

“Who, Tanya?” He asked, pointing his thumb behind him. “Fuck, no. She’s just–”

“A good lay?” You inquired, pulling your eyes up to him finally, flicking your eyelashes in the most sarcastic way you could. 

He let his arms fall to his sides in defeat. “Listen, Y/N. Just let me take you to lunch, please? I promise I’ll be the perfect gentleman.” He finished the end of his sentence with a smirk and a wink, instantly making your insides swirl. What the hell is he doing to you?

“Alright, I guess. But only because I’m hungry, not because I want to hang out with you.” You gave him a side smile as you agreed. 

You watched as he leaned his elbows down on the side panel of the truck Jake was working on, resting his chin in his hand. 

“Mmm, I bet you do want to hang out with me though, especially if you let me a little further into your motel room after…”

“We gotta close up.” Suddenly Jake was bounding down the stairs, his steps heavy as he barrelled toward you and Danny. “Close it up, let’s go.” He slammed the hood of the truck down as soon as Danny had backed off of it enough. 

You stood from your chair in surprise. “Why, what’s wrong?”

You watched as Danny shoved his towel into his pocket, his expression immediately turning into alarm. 

“Fuck, was it Teddy on the phone?” He asked Jake as he ran around, closing the lid on his tool box and wheeling it under the loft. 

“Yeah, it was fuckin’ Teddy. Hurry up.” Jake hastily walked to the bay door, pulling on the long chain to lower the large garage doors down to the ground with a slam. 

“What’s going on? Who is Teddy?” You asked in a panic as they ran around you like chickens with their heads cut off. 

Danny closed all the doors on the vehicles in the bay, and threw a large black tarp over the motorcycle he had propped up on a block. They tossed all the rogue tools into the appropriate boxes, shutting the lids as they did so. 

What the fuck is going on?!

Anxiety began to creep into your chest as you watched them rush around in a panic. 

After a few minutes of fury, they met in the middle of the bay, in a fit of panted exhaustion and sweaty skin. They stood with their hands on their hips, looking around the shop. Jake pulled his Lucky Strikes from his pocket, nervously lighting one up with a zippo he pulled from his pocket. 

“Fuck!” He muttered as the smoke left his lungs. “Did we miss anything?” He asked Danny rhetorically. 

“No, how long do we have? Do they want a game?”

“Yeah, they want a fuckin’ game. They’ll be here at sunset. Shit.” Jake answered, both of their eyes still darting around in shifted motions. 

Finally, at the same time, their eyes landed on you standing before them in complete and utter shock. 

“Have her help you set up, then take her back to my bedroom. Lock the door.” Jake finally commanded Danny. 

“No, are you fuckin’ stupid? I’m taking her back to the motel, she’ll be safe there.” Danny argued. 

“No, god damnit! She’s staying here where we can keep an eye on her, the last thing we need is fucking free collateral, Danny. She stays here and hides.”

“Hides?! Wait, what the fuck–” your heart began pounding. 

“If she’s here, they’ll know we’re hiding something, Jake! They aren’t stupid! If she’s back at the motel at least she’s far enough away—” Danny was raising his voice to Jake now in opposition, their chests almost touching as they spat in each other’s faces. 

“Daniel, are you fuckin’ mental? You know Wanda isn’t trustworthy anymore. And Tanya was just here! You know Bubba found out who she’s been hanging around. And she saw Y/N! You think it’s a coincidence that two hours later, we get a call from Teddy?! Are you fuckin’ stupid?” Jake slammed a screwdriver across the floor, letting it bounce and glide across the concrete until it hit the wall. He stepped away from Danny, walking toward the back of the bay to continue what he was doing. 

“I told you to stay away from that fucking crowd, and what did you do? Bring one of them back with you to fuck into the mattress all night.” Jake yelled, and you watched as Danny lurched his way toward him. 

But before Danny could make it, Jake turned and held his elbow out, catching Danny’s body across the chest. “Don’t fucking come up on me like that Daniel, I swear to god. Go set up the fucking table, or get the fuck out of my shop. Take your pick.” Jake spat into his face. 

Danny begrudgingly backed away, his hands balled into fists. “I’m not leaving you here alone.” 

Jake’s demeanor instantly softened. “You better fucking not.” He mumbled, licking his lips. Jake motioned with his eyes for Danny to retreat to the back, just like he had asked. 

Danny breezed past you as he walked, catching your arm and pulling you along as he did so. 

“Come on, need your help.” He muttered. 

You ripped your arm from his grasp, flinging it away with as much force as you could muster. 

“Danny! Tell me what the hell is going on or I am leaving!” You yelled in his face, purely enraged that they were leaving you 100% out of the picture, while deciding what to do with you. 

He sighed, eyes darting around again. “I promise you, I will explain everything soon. And I promise, I will take you on that lunch date.” His hand came up and brushed your elbow, while the other pulled your hair away from your face. His touch was so gentle, while he had just been seconds away from a brawl with Jake. His eyes bored deep into yours, somehow soft while yours were filled with fear. 

“We’re gonna keep you safe. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, you hear me?” He was gripping hard at your shoulders now, talking like he was hyping himself up instead of you. “I need you to trust me. Do you trust me?”

“Danny… I–I don’t even know you…” you mumbled, your fight or flight beginning to kick in as the sounds of Jake banging loud things together in the bay echoed off the walls. 

“Yeah you do, you know me. You knew me a long time ago.” His eyes shot to Jake again, still loudly throwing tools into containers. Suddenly his face was close to yours, his grip on your arms now almost an embrace. 

“I’m not a bad guy, Y/N. I swear I’m not. I’m just…” he winced as he searched for the words. “Listen, I like you, and even though you’ve only been around a day or two, you’ve been the only thing on my mind since the minute you pulled up at the shop, okay? You...you make me nervous. And people don’t make me nervous.” He licked his lips as his hands gripped the sides of your head. “But right now, I’m asking you to trust me. If not completely, just until tomorrow, okay? Please?” He pleaded. 

Fuck, did you have a choice?

You threw all caution to the wind as your mind fought against every red flag presenting itself. You nodded quickly. “Okay. Okay, shit.” you finally agreed. 

Danny’s expression fell straight to relief as he gripped his large, grease-covered hands over yours, pulling you back to their living quarters in a hurry. 

“Then let’s go. We don’t have much time.”

.

. 

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.

.

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.

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#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet smut #greta van smut #greta van fic #jake kiszka #danny wagne r #jacob thomas kiszka #daniel robert wagner #greta van fluff #gvf smut #gvf fic #gvf series #jake gvf #valor gvf #gvf #jake kiszka smut #daniel wagner smut #gvf danny #daniel wagner #janny gvf #jacob kiszka #janny lane #gretavangroupie #jtk x reader #gretavanfluff #greta van angst #drw x reader #valor

[a-d-nox]

pac/pap: what is the energy that surrounds you and how can you best protect your energy?

take what resonates leave what doesn't - nothing is 100% for you because these aren't personalized so please no angry comments or dms about what i am saying not being a good fit for you or that you "don't claim" just keep scrolling if that is the case. be kind, self reflect, and have fun.

last pac/pap: what happens when you take actions on your dreams?

want a personal reading? click here to check out my reading options and prices!

pile 1

energy around you: i sense that you are healing from something. i actually feel proud of you, pulling this card - you seem hopeful that things are changing for the better, and they truly are. you feel inspired again - i encourage you to create again. i feel like you write or paint? so by all mean - have at it, the block is over. the mental health struggles are getting better and you are currently on the right track so keep it up! keep healing; keep growing.

how to protect your energy: you're energy is extremely sensitive right now. i sense that you feel antagonized by someone at this moment - perhaps by the person you are healing from or someone is poking at you and the mental wounds you are healing. think ethically - would confrontation or defensive remarks make the situation better or worse? perhaps remember that they too are likely going through something. why worsen their possible situation? note that no matter what you do, there is a chance for "difficulties" and "strain" to arise. be the bigger person.

pile 2

energy around you: you are starting the process of a spiritual awakening. know that to continue moving forward and "awakening" you must acknowledge and accept the past for what it is - the past. release any resentment you have and move forward - you do not have to forgive anyone face-to-face you can simply do so on you own. do what you must so you can move forward and not feel held back by the past. your future is bright - no need to dwell in the dust and dark of the past. put your energy into noticing signs from the universe (perhaps practice some shuffle-mancy - put a playlist on shuffle and listen to the first song's lyrics for your message). try not to be too tough on yourself as you let go of the past and embrace the future.

how to protect your energy: as i said before you are a strong person with a bright future, so i trust that you will do what you must - if you see something must be done, take action and do it. connect with your inner authority - protect your inner child, if you are forgiving someone face to face actively remember that your inner child still exists. going face to face with someone who brings you trauma or anxiety does cause age regression in some cases - acknowledge your younger self and remember the growth you have done. you have the ability to protect that inner child. remember to think beyond just yourself - it might not be worth digging up the past when we have presently gone so far. additionally advised: practice self-empowering mantras and affirmations.

pile 3

energy around you: you are moving into a gaining cycle - do not linger on previous fears of challenge and loss but at the same time learn to show gratitude for what is about to come into you life. recall your previous beliefs in change and now rewrite it to see it as a warning that things do change and you can experience loss again. something i sense you should work on is focusing on the spiritual world rather than the material one. you are a clever person, which is not something that can be quantified so stop trying to show everyone what you are instead simply being what you are. if you are dealing with health woes at the moment - try to ground your mindset into that of healing into of suffering. live life as though it could be worse and as though it could be better, instead of taking it for granted that you are "stabilized/stabilizing" because change is inevitable.

how to protect your energy: be generous. the best way to promote your new found prosperity and gains are to model how you wish to be treated and/or wished you were treated in your times of need. step into that leadership role - being a model or figurehead for charitable services can help you to remember where you were, where you are, and where you are going. it is also a great time to get the support of the positive masculine figure(s) in your life; perhaps they can aid you in your journey to connect past, present, and future via their connections/funds. the main message for you is to donate to passion projects and volunteer with those in need. don't focus too had on getting others involved; focus on you and your journey. whatever you can give back, no matter how small, will be appreciated without a doubt.

#astrology #astro community #asteroid #natal chart #astrology tumblr #daily tarot #tarot reading #tarot #tarotcommunity #tarot deck #tarot cards #tarot reader #divination #pick an image #pick a photo #pick a pile #pick a card #pick a picture

[writingquestionsanswered]

How do you have fun writing instead of taking it too seriously? I'm keeping myself from making progress specifically with nanowrimo

Keeping Writing Fun/Not Taking it Too Seriously

One game changer thing I've learned about writing in the past year is that while goals are a great way to promote productivity, giving yourself a hard time about not reaching them can actually sap motivation and destroy productivity. So, if you want to keep writing fun and not take it too seriously, I would suggest creating reasonable goals--goals that you know you can reach, or that aren't so challenging they'll be difficult to reach. Be honest with yourself about the time you have available for writing, how fast you write, how much time you might spend pausing to think or research. Then, once you have reasonable goals in place, try to reach those goals but be gentle with yourself if you fall short. Give yourself credit for what you did achieve and promise to do better the next day or next writing session.

There are also some fun ways to track your writing goals, such as apps, game boards, rewards meters, etc. For example, during a particular writing session, maybe you give yourself one M&M or Skittle for every 150 words you write. Or, maybe you buy yourself a coffee for every 1500 words you write. Some writers like to spend $20 or so on small items like pens, stickers, cute post-it notes, etc., and then reward themselves with one item for every small goal they reach.

Another thing you can do is have fun with your writing session. Write someplace fun and inspiring if you can. Put on an ambience channel or a soft music playlist. Put on some pretty mood lighting. Wear a pear of soft socks or slippers. Make yourself a cup of your favorite coffee, tea, or other drink.

Last but not least, it helps to really think about your long term goals and what you want to get out of writing now. If you're writing just for fun and a hobby right now, keeping that in mind should help keep it light. If you're writing seriously (for practice and/or toward publication), giving yourself a reasonable timeline for big goals (finishing the first draft, revision, etc.) can help you keep it light while still being serious about it.

Have a look at these posts as well:

Concentrate on Quantity at First, Not Quality Comparing Self to Others, Insecure About Writing Overcoming Embarrassment Over Own Writing Worried About Writing Style Afraid of Looking Back and Seeing Bad Writing

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[lixiesfreckless]

p1harmony and their kinky-haired girlfriends

a bit niche, but the reader(y/n) is typically portrayed with eurocentric hair(which isn't bad!), so when this idea popped into my head yesterday I just HAD to indulge it as a kinky haired girl myself <3

Keeho

metaphorically falls to his knees whenever you come home from the salon

"oooooh girlllllll-" [immediately starts screaming with you]

will take a million photos of you because he's lowkey obsessed with everything that you do with your hair

don't know what style to do next? don't worry, he has a photo album in his phone that's kept track of every hairdo you've ever had, in case you want to try something new or return to a previous look

he WILL lay your edges better than you. and he absolutely slays the swirls that he likes to put in them

matching silk bonnets!!!

if you own any wigs, HIDE THEM if you're watching reality tv. Keeho will otherwise run to grab one while you watch the kardashians just to up the sass level

in all seriousness you guys love acting a fool in your wigs. bob-offs are a monthy endeavor

Theo

wash day connoisseur

he's taking off work. he doesn't care

knows it's a whole process and wants to help in any way he can because he's not very good at braiding or styling kinky hair

makes it into a spa day so you don't stress

has the leave in conditioner-water-gel combo DOWN and takes his time sectioning your hair so the curls define just right

loves talking to you like you're in a salon and he's just the hairdresser trying to get to know you(it's his sneaky way of checking in on you)

will complain/be sad when you say you're getting a new style in because he gets so attached to the current one but he immediately forgets the old one the minute you come home with something new

Jiung

LOVES braiding your hair. you'll actually quit going to braiders yourself in favor of staying home and binging your favorite show while jiung finishes your ends for you

in fact, if you teach him to cornrow, he will be OBSESSED with braiding cool shapes on your head in case you ever want a badass protective style

he finds it very therapeutic and loves being close to you for prolonged periods of time, bonus points if you fall asleep. he will simply die if you do that

has a playlist just for times like these </333

late night trips to the beauty supply store! because he didn't get enough rubber bands and wants to finish your hair TODAY

Intak

LITERALLY falls to his knees whenever you come home from the salon

"okay okay, this is my favorite look on you" he has said this every time

enamored and cannot stop staring at you

pictures of you allllll over his social media, he's basically a fanpage

wants you to braid his hair so bad, and when you do you both know he looks so goofy but it's adorable

"do you need anything from the beauty supply store? I'm on my way home from work right now"

oiling your scalp is his job(he won't let you do it because he knows how relaxing it is when you don't do it yourself)

he is so focused. and it is SO cute.

Soul

matching hair!!!

no I'm so serious he keeps his hair longish so you guys can always match. he will dye it, he'll let you braid it, put cute rings and charms in it etc. you guys will show up to EVERY event matching if he can help it

speaking of charms and rings, he will buy the coolest ones he can find just for you to try because he thinks you look ethereal with them and can't get enough of it

begs you to let him accessorize your hair(like you're an art piece! because you are, to him at least)

crazy head massages whenever you don't have your hair done

will always say that he doesn't have a favorite style, but whenever you get braids with beads at the end he acts a little stupid

Jongseob

this boy LOVES a good fro

doesn't matter if it's big or small he just can't wrap his head around the fact that your hair literally DEFIES GRAVITY

thinks your hair is the coolest thing in the world(he's jealous)

wants you to explain to him in detail anything that he doesn't understand. he hates having a language barrier whenever you two talk about hair and he wants it GONE

so when you notice him using lingo that you taught him, you get all flustered and he thinks it's SO cute

whenever you need to take down a protective style, he is THERE and ready to set a new record

he's literally a speedrunner and thinks it's a fun little game because it is. there's a folder in your notes app with his best times

#piwon #piwon fluff #piwon x reader #p1h #p1harmony ff #p1harmony fanfic #p1harmony #p1harmony headcanons #keeho #theo #jiung #intak #soul #jongseob #p1h fluff

[roosterforme]

A Rooster to Care for Me | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley loves to take care of you when you have your period.

Warnings: Fluff, so much fluff

Length: 700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? but it can be read on its own!

Check my masterlist.

You curled yourself into a ball on the living room couch, clutching your heating pad to your abdomen. Sometimes when you had your period, nothing seemed to take the edge off of the cramps and achiness. You glared at the glass of water and painkillers on the coffee table, which had done nothing to help. 

Bradley walked in the front door, whistling Great Balls of Fire and bobbing his head happily. He was still in his flight suit and clearly in a good mood. He took one look at you and quickly set down his wallet, phone and keys. 

"Baby Girl, you okay? You have your period?" His eyes tracked the cord coming from the heating pad plus the pain medicine. 

"Yeah," you groaned as he knelt on the floor in front of the couch. "I feel awful."

He pushed your hair back from your face and kissed your cheek. Let's get you changed out of your uniform. That should help." 

He hopped up and disappeared past the kitchen, soon returning with your favorite sweatpants and one of his old tee shirts. He helped you stand up and get undressed, all of his touches so gentle. He unhooked your bra, kissed your shoulders, and pulled his huge shirt over your head. As you stepped into your sweatpants, he pulled them up and tied them loosely at your waist. 

"Better?" he asked, pulling you against him for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his waist and nodded into his chest.

"Better. I'm just tired. And hungry," you griped, already feeling more relaxed as Bradley ran his hand up and down your back.

"I have an idea. How about you curl up on the couch and try to take a little nap. I'll go pick up some groceries and a pizza, yeah?"

"Okay," you agreed, and he set you up with the heating pad once again. You closed your eyes and listened as he went to the kitchen and made a quick grocery list. He was still humming his song, but more quietly this time.

"I'm heading out now. Do you need anything else, Sweetheart?"

"Yes, get me more tampons, please."

"The ones in the pink wrappers or the ones in the green wrappers?"

"Green ones," you said with a smile, because he actually cared to know about which brands you preferred.

"Okay, I'll be back soon."

You dozed off and didn't wake once until you heard keys in the front door again. Bradley carried in an armful of shopping bags along with a huge pizza box. He went about putting some things away in the kitchen and getting some pizza slices on a plate for you. Then he queued up your favorite playlist on his phone.

You sat up and nibbled on your dinner as you watched him finish organizing everything he bought. He hadn't bothered to change out of his flight suit before going to the store. You smiled a bit, knowing how many women and even some men ogled him when he had it on in public. He was just stupid hot looking.

"You want a glass of wine?" he asked, holding up two bottles from across the room. You nodded and pointed to the bottle in his left hand, and he smiled. Within twenty minutes, Bradley had changed into some shorts and joined you on the couch. There were two glasses of wine on the coffee table, plus two plates of pizza and a carton of ice cream. 

His hands were working wonders, rubbing your lower back as you draped yourself across his lap. Occasionally you would pop up to take another bite of pizza or half melted ice cream before returning to the comfort of his lap. 

"I love you, Bradley Bradshaw. Thanks for taking care of me."

He chuckled. "You take care of me every day. If I can try to take care of you for a few days each month, I'll do it every time, Sweetheart."

---------------------------------

This was highly self-indulgent and loosely based on my husband. I'll bring you some more angst and smut next time, I promise! Thanks for reading!

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#bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster fanfic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun fanfiction #rooster x female reader

[kanmom51]

JK live 25.5.2023 12:03 am KST

cr./creators of media used in this post.

Jaykay our man went live.

And although he surprised us, it by no means was a surprise now, was it?

Kind of feels like a pattern here, doesn't it? JM's off somewhere and JK's on Weverse live, lol.

I love how he always seems to be missing us when JM doesn't seem to be around, or should I put it this way? When JM's around he doesn't give a rat's ass about us? Nah, he loves army, but he definitley has his priorities... and above all, someone we will NEVER compete with for JK's love, is JM. I do wish a big chunk of army would understand that already.

The timing is also, as always, thought out. And this time the date giving us 8/11 and the time giving us the 123 is no coincidence in my apparently very insane opinion.

We also actually have 8/11/15. Shock. Awe. You want to see for yourselves?

25.5.2023 12:03 am KST, right?

So the 8/11 we get from the date: 2+5+2+2=11 and 5+3=8

And then, if we take the time, the 12 and the 03 as they are: 12+3=15 Ta-dah.

8/11/15

I would like to talk for a second here about how happy JK looks.

He himself talks about how he's been cooking a lot and eating a lot and he put on weight. I, for one, think he looks amazing. I hated to see him so skinny back in his Feb lives.

I think this is a first time in a long time we are seeing his eye smile even when it's not about JM. He's happy. He's active. He's working and working out and looking good and gaining muscle. He has JM around more and he's just back on track and he's happy. And it shows.

Satiated. That's a word that comes to mind. He has all the things he loves. JM, food, music, JM. He has it all now.

Also, our Jiminah, must be over the moon with his babe getting his man boobies back.

I mean, those chesties, or dare I say breasties were his besties, he just cannot keep his hand off them. LITERALLY.

And the hair, lol.

How he starts the live with his hair down and then goes to put it up. Am I the only one that as he does that is thinking about this?

Which was JM commenting on JK's mukbang live (which was deleted, ugh), telling him how much he wants to tie his hair back neatly (oh, the cute art we got from that one...).

Can I also mention, before we move on, just how adorable that man is?

He went to grab his glasses cause he didn't see the screen well...

What strikes me every single time is that sense of naivete about him. It feels like he's literally doing these things for the first time, and the excitement and expressions on his face, it's just so sweet/cute. So endearing. I mean, it's not the first time he's worn his glasses, and yet the surprise how much better things look with them on, it's just so adorable.

And of course I cannot not add this edit, cause it's just hilarious.

I'm surprised, yet not surprised every single time again as to how rude and stupid fans can be. At the start of the live, just before JK goes to pull up his hair (and I really want to hope that this wasn't the reason that he tied up his hair at the end), he reads out a comment calling him Jungsoon which is in essence calling him girly or "baby girl", which he replies to:

Which he says twice, followed by...

And he goes to tie his hair but doesn't, sidetracked by a positive comment saying he's been missed. That's also when he goes on to talk about cooking and putting on weight.

Fans like that they just fucking piss me off.

JK talks about not singing too loud at night. Explaining how even though he thought the place was properly sound proofed, and although the neighbours can't hear him singing, they can feel the vibrations from the speakers, oopsy. He received a kind of complaint about it, and says how since he hasn't been singing loudly at night (well, not as loudly, lol).

The live playlist

JK didn't listen to too many songs. He didn't sing too many songs either. In the just over an hour live we got to hear 7 songs.

1. That’s Not How This Works - Charlie Puth

2. NIGHT DANCER - imase

3. Angel Pt. 1 - Kodak Black, Jimin, NLE Choppa, JVKE, Muni Long

4. The Palnet - BTS (this song he didn't actually play, he sang a couple of lines and talked about a little but not actually playing and singing).

5. Seed - Taeyang

6. Super - Seventeen

7. Shoong! - Taeyang feat. Lisa of Blackpink

8. Fighting - Seventeen

And in my mind, the live is kind of split into 2 parts:

Part 1 was dominated by Night dancer and Angel Pt. 1.

Part 2 was Taeyang and Seventeen leaning. Although we got to hear Angel again in part 2, lol.

The way JK keeps doing this, supporting JM and his work, I mean you have to be blind not to see this.

JK literally sang or hummed JM's Angel pt. 1 four times throughout his live, including his funny as hell ad-lib that now that we have the translated live we can well appreciate (I was scared they won't translate that part, but they came through, well at least with that).

FOUR TIMES.

Enjoy an edit of all 4 together:

There is also this, which I did find interesting.

1st time in the live he 'happens to come by it':

2nd time is him singing the lyrics in Korean:

Humming on a little bit longer.

Third time he hummed the song, and the fourth time he hummed it one key higher.

You know what though? Thinking about it, Angel pt. 1 was all through part one and part two of the live (my mental 2 parts of the live peeps), lol. Or maybe let's forget about the parts and say that the live was all about Angel, nope, sorry, got that wrong, it was about Jimin hyung pt. 1 (wink wink).

And this is something JK does. He loves JM. He JM's songs, he loves to sing them. We've seen this time and time again.

Now all we really need is Letter, although I have a feeling we aren't going to get that. Which in itself, their reluctance to talk about it or sing it ever since it's been released, that is a big ass neon light telling us just how private and personal this song is to THEM.

Also, side note, that adlibbed Angel in Korean - JK's how to tell us he's drinking a highball without actually telling us he's drinking a highball, lol.

JK says he's been on YT and TikTok lately (making it clear that he's not on IG, which makes me think he might actually still be lurking on IG, idk, it's the criminal mind in me, lol). That's where he said he first heard Night dancer (will get to that song in a sec) and obviously also saw Jiminie's Seventeen Super dance challenge.

JK told us about how much he's been listening to Night dancer. Can't stop listening to it was more like it. He plays it several times during the live. And it's a good song. I get why he likes it. And the lyrics, I also get why this song is living rent free in his mind.

It's an unexceptional, ordinary night The noise, the sparkle, and you

The clock hands are frozen again The frequented, cluttered room Nothing changed, but as I look back We both had gotten older

The music stops again, you drop the needle We've replayed it so much, we nearly grow bored of it Nothing changed, please don't change You're the only one who's stayed

We avoid the topic with small talk We hesitate to touch the subject We stop to push the hands forward Our breaths start to sync

It's an unexceptional, ordinary night Dance with the noise, the sparkle, and you It's an average, boring night But let's move forward together

Your translucent, pale skin Your carefree smile Nothing changed, please don't change But this is only just for now

The more I stare The more memories that overflow A cup of coffee for a wavering heart A disheveled room, a scratchy melody Let's blend together, one more time

It's an unexceptional, ordinary night Dance with my beating heart, my elation, and you It's an average, boring night But let's move forward together

The night is long and uncertain The music could stop at any moment I want to be with you, to drown with you I don't care if tomorrow never comes

It's an unexceptional, ordinary night Dance with the noise, the sparkle, and you It's an average, boring night Love me Who cares anymore, just look at me Let's dance as we sway and stumble It's an unexceptional, ordinary night But let's move forward together

I keep going back to read and re-read those lyrics. Eyes tear up. This is definitely one that hits the heart strings, and so understandably a song that JK is feeling right now.

I don't know if you guys remember the ask I had a long while back asking me to pick a Troye Sivan song for every year of Jikook's relationship.

Thing is, for 2022-3 it wouldn't be a Troye Sivan song I would choose. It would be this one.

The song is by a Japanese artist called Imase, who went online to thank and show his appreciation to JK for listening to his song and mentioning it in his live.

I can't help but wonder if this is why JK knows that Japanese YT teacher so well, is he touching up on his Japanese?

So, part 2 JK sang 2 songs by Taeyang (hilarious how he stops singing Shoop the second it's Lisa's part), 2 songs by Seventeen, talked about how Jun taught him the dance for Super and Mingyu asked him to do the challenge but hasn't called him, and then proceeded to say that he won't do it, lol.

Pity, I'm sure he'd rock it.

He also talked about watching Go Seventeen and how funny they were.

I do love how he's sharing with us the songs he loves, the shows he likes, and also supporting his partner and his friends.

JK also mentioned he saw the photo of his female lookalike, Hira Saya, lol.

JK talked about Hobi finishing his basic training that day. Sending them a selfie to their group chat.

I personally am not prepared for that day.

But the hilarious part, once again, is does he not think we will notice his hair getting shorter?????

Again, that naivete of his, just like he was surprised he was so easily recognized at Coachella, lol.

After singing fighting, JK, as we so dearly know him, turns to the camera and asks: "should we sleep now?"

He turns back to sing fighting for a few seconds and then:

Adds "fighting for tomorrow", waves bye, says he dropped by briefly to play, that he'll find good songs for us and come back, asking "but these are all songs that you already knew, right? You probably listen to more music than I do. I really don't listen to music", waves bye, says not to get sick and be happy, and he's done.

Lol.

Look, it's not like he didn't warn us. Multiple times. He said he'd have to go to sleep at 1 am cause he has somewhat of a schedule the next morning. It's the way he does it that has me on the floor laughing.

I didn't talk about the CP song he played and sang, because yeah, CP, not much to talk about, other than again, this is an artist that JK likes, admires, and one that he is choosing to share his music with us and sing his songs.

Anyways, before I end this, a couple of points I noticed:

The songs he played and sang to us. JK said it loud and clear. And his live closing statement kind of cements the fact that he came to sing these songs he thinks are good songs, and that even though he, in his own words, doesn't really listen to music these days, is obviously listening to these songs and wanted to play them and sing them to us. Songs that happen to be by his partner (4 times he goes back to Angel pt. 1 in his live for a total of over 5 minutes singing or humming or adlibbing it), his friends (Seventeen), artists he admires (CP and Taeyang) and a special extra song that happens to live in his head at the moment (Night dancer).

The absence of the songs he didn't play. I think it was kind of loud and clear, don't you?

Anyway, JK came back to us, as he has been doing when JM is absent. He's happy. He looks happy. So I'm happy. And as much as I want more frequent lives from him, if JM being away or absent is the catalyst then I would rather he have his Jiminie by his side than me enjoy him going live. And him going live is pure joy. Do you understand what I'm willing to give up here? Do I need to make myself any clearer?

I want them to be happy is all.

💜💛

#Jungkook #JK #JK live #JK W live #Jikook #Kookmin #Minkook #Jimin #JM

[kwillow]

Ambroys basking in his cache of gifts and sweet words from secret admirers. Gotta be careful, though. If his ego is inflated any more, he'll pop.

(I wanted to doodle something to accompany a post answering some messages regarding this candy-colored cad but got a bit carried away. :P Well regardless, asks under the cut!)

Why thank you! He would drunkenly insult people, though he tends to be more passive-aggressive and backhanded rather than outright insulting - well, most of the time, anyway. He thinks he's a lot more subtle in his derogatory comments than he actually is.

Aaaw, this is too sweet!

Older Ambroys is much more reserved about seeking and accepting physical affection than his younger self, for myriad reasons (that one day I will expound upon in more detail, fate willing). He still enjoys it, though.

He's still proud of the stars on his cheeks and the gold in his hair and all that, but the signs of age are something he is not at peace with. For some, like the wrinkles, they're a sign that his time on this earth is finite - and death terrifies him. For others, like his paunch, it's more just embarrassing to him in a more mundane and vain "I was voted Prom King in high school and I was on the Varsity track team now look at me I'm an old man boo hoo hoo" type of way (though he's actually more physically adept in his older age than he was when he was younger for Magical Heritage Bullshit reasons, the sentiment remains).

As for your question, it's totally fine with me for Ambroys to be portrayed as non-heterosexual in fanfic or fanart or one's secret imaginings. Even though all of his "canon" love interests are women, I wouldn't rule out of the possibility of him developing affections for someone who isn't a woman. Chase your bliss!

Haha well both furry and aasimar Ambroys would bask in the attention, though poor aasimar Ambroys' jealousy is not going to be helped!

No shame on being a furry though. I didn't consider myself one either but I feel like it's harder to make the argument that I'm not given the sheer number of ponies I've drawn by now...

He would accept this, so long as you don't mess up his hair.

He would say: "good!" I would say "don't waste your life on him!"

Oh he would be pleased to be so distracting, I'm sure.

And sometimes we can't help but to have a type... I know I seem to have a thing for rich effete douchebags with buck teeth and big pointy noses... not quite sure what's up with that.

Yessss... yesssssssss... or perhaps I should say "I'm sorry."

I didn't mean to make him this way... I guess I underestimated the power of a brushable mane.

Ambroys DOES like being worshipped (way too much and way too literally, as you might be able to tell) but he wants to have his imperfections hidden if he can!

He's just horribly, horribly vain and unwilling to let go of his youth... even though he got to enjoy being youthful for three times as long as a mortal would.

YES that song is on his playlist (which I have for all my main characters because I'm a dork). It's just too perfect. One of the many ideas on my miles-long to do list has to do with depicting a scene from that song. The trouble is that it has to do with dancing, and boy am I not very good at drawing dancing poses. xD Oh well, gotta try for the boy!

Heh well I think we could agree that a normal horse probably couldn't pull off the breeches he wears quite so well... I'm flattered that you think of him when you see horsies in the flesh! Huzzah, I've ruined one of the Earth's beautiful creatures for you! >:)

Oh wow, my guy is stepping out of my brain and into other people's subconsciouses... I need to put a leash on him. :P But this was a fun read!

It's very in character Ambroys to try to undercut a rival's self-esteem by framing it as something OTHER people say, but oh no, he'd NEVER say something like that, of course. Mean girl behavior. He does have friends that don't actually like him - and he doesn't like them either. But one needs to have friends for appearance's sake - just one more accessory, really!

OKAY, I think that's everything! Or at least enough for this post, ahah.

Thanks to everyone for your kind words on my not-so-kind character.

Unlike him, I'm really humbled and grateful by the positive reception he's received. I deeply appreciate your kind messages... even when it takes me eons to reply to them, gah.

#my draws #ambroys #amaranthine #asks #technically? #furry #unicorn #some of these are months old i'm so sorry Dx #my excuse this time is that I have what I fear is an RSI developing in my wrist/arm #so I'm trying to limit drawing/typing #alas... just can't catch a break between work and the limits of my weak human form

[thetriumphantpanda]

Stolen | Marcus Pike (Day Three)

Series Summary | A week on from the biggest museum theft in history, you find yourself shipped to D.C. to track down the most important British archaeological artefacts, stolen from right under your nose. You didn’t plan on Special Agent Marcus Pike getting under your skin in the process. Special Agent Marcus Pike didn’t plan on falling for you either.

Chapter Summary | The day has come to raid the storage facility and get your artefacts back. When things don't go to plan, Marcus has plenty of ideas up his sleeve to help distract you.

Pairing | Marcus Pike x Archaeologist/Curator F!Reader 

Word Count | 4.7k 

Warnings | Marcus and reader shamelessly flirting with each other, mentions of food and alcohol consumption, some swearing, mention of guns, and a nice little surprise at the end for Jones and Pike.

Authors Note | I'm actually so obsessed with this story you don't understand! I'm having so much fun waving my own interests and experiences into this fic, I hope you're enjoying them too! If you've got any questions about any of the archaeology or history that's discussed here then feel free to ask me - I'm a geek for this stuff so I'm always more than happy to give you all the information you want! Thank you once again to @morning-star-joy for being the beta for this story and continually losing her shit over Jones and Marcus with me. If you enjoy this please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or heading into my ask box to give me some love!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Stolen Playlist

You’ve decided that you look absolutely ridiculous in a tactical vest.  You’ve been switching between sitting in the back of Marcus’ unmarked cop car or pacing on the pavement for two hours now whilst the team he’d assembled continued to stake out and watch the storage facility that Steven had identified as belonging to the gang. 

It’s a small team, comprising of Marcus and Steven and three other FBI agents. Pete is there, looking equally as ridiculous in his tactical vest as you did. It didn’t fit him properly, you suspect he told Marcus to give him a smaller size than he needed so he could feel good about himself, but the way it’s bulging over his beer belly is frankly silly. Lizzie had opted to stay back at the hotel, you would feed her information as and when you got it so she could report back to the team at home. 

You’re currently leaning against the side of Marcus’ car, watching as two agents look through binoculars to see if they can see any activity at the unit. Your thumbnail hasn’t really left your mouth, you’re worrying at the side of it, nibbling small pieces of it in an attempt to soothe your nerves, but it’s not helping much.  

“What are we actually waiting for?” You huff in frustration, more to the universe than anyone else.

“Just trying to see if we can catch anyone in the act.” Of course, it’s Steven who decides to answer you.  

You want to fucking scream. “We’ve been here for two hours now, I know I’m only an archaeologist but even I know that if a group of people in tact vests are standing on the hill over a storage unit, that’s probably not good news.” 

You notice Marcus has a smile on his face as he looks between Steven and you. You make a mental note to ask Marcus when you can about what the fuck Steven’s problem even is with you. 

“Alright, the lady is right,” Marcus relents, feeling the tension rising, “Let’s get down there and see what we can find.” 

The two agents who had been watching the unit through their binoculars are quick to head back to their own car. One of them pulls out a duffle bag filled with God knows what, the other has a pair of bolt cutters. The third agent, currently hanging around with Pete, calls to Marcus that the two of them will stay put and to radio for back-up should they need it. 

“You ready to go?” Marcus asks, turning to you. 

“I was ready to go two hours ago,” You grumble, “So yes, let’s get this over with.”

Steven and the two other agents are leading the way, walking down the hill and into the storage facility. Marcus hangs back a little, walking side-by-side with you, but keeps quiet. You’re sure he can sense the stress and tension through your body, so he opts for silence lest you snap at him. You think he’s a very wise man for that choice. 

The storage unit you’re targeting is in the middle of the facility and on the end of a row. Marcus silently signals to Steve and his posse that they should split and come at it from two separate angles. He’s softly taking hold of your wrist to drag you down to the other side, so he’s facing the shuttered front of the unit, whilst Steven and his agents will come in blind from the other side. 

You watch as Marcus pulls his pistol from the holster on his hips, aiming it straight at the door, signaling then for Steven and his crew to make their move to open it. You’re almost in awe of how silent they are when they move. One agent is knelt, cutting the padlock that’s keeping the unit closed with the bolt cutters, whilst the other agent is on his knees, gun pulled and ready just to the side. Steven stands behind this other agent, his own gun ready should he need it. 

Marcus turns his body to you a little, “Let these guys handle it,” He speaks quietly, “Once they give the all clear, we can move forward.” 

“You’re the boss.” You shoot back, keeping your eyes on what’s unfolding in front of you. 

Once the agent who cut the lock has worked it free and tossed it to the ground behind him, he’s moving to kneel on the opposite side of the locket to the others. He and the other agent are facing each other now, each with a hand on the metal shutter ready to pull it up. Steven moves slightly so that when the shutters are finally pulled up, he’s able to see everything. 

What happens next is all kind of a blur. The shutters are lifted and you’re thankful that it seems to be devoid of people because there’s no shootout. Steven pockets his gun back in its holster and walks into the unit, returning almost seconds later to wave Marcus over. 

You should have known that the amount of time it took to check the locker was a bad sign, but there was hope flowing through your body as you followed closely behind Agent Pike.  When your eyes settle on the scene in front you, you could cry. The locker is empty, save for a folding table. No boxes, no fucking artefacts. Of course. That would have been too easy. 

You can hear the blood rushing to your ears. The lump in your throat is a telltale sign that you’re about to cry. You can feel your own heart practically beating out of your chest. You take a second to try and ground yourself. Counting to ten and taking deep breaths when Steven extends a piece of paper to you. You take it, read it and that’s when the tears start forming in the corners of your eyes. 

Not nice when someone steals your national treasure, is it? WE WANT OUR ARTEFACTS BACK. 

You hand the letter, which has been typed on paper, to Marcus before exiting the locker. You head back to where you’d been before, leaning back against the wall, letting the back of your head hit the concrete behind you a few times, trying to let your frustration out. When you close your eyes, you can feel the tears that were forming in the corners of your eyes drip down your cheeks. God, this is so embarrassing. You wipe away the tears from your cheeks with anger, sniffing as you go to try and get yourself under control. 

“Hey,” Marcus is rounding the corner now, “Oh, it’s okay, please don’t be upset.” He speaks when he notices the tears and the catching of your breath in your throat. 

“Fuck off.” You spit, don’t be upset? If your artefacts weren’t here, then where the fuck were they? And how the hell were you supposed to find them now? You were going to get fired. How were you going to feed Geralt with no income? Your brain was spiraling. 

“Hey, look at me,” Marcus’ voice draws you from your spiraling thought process, his hands are on your shoulders and he’s stood in front of you, “I know this isn’t what any of us wanted, but I promise you this isn’t the end,” His hands shift from your shoulders to the tops of your arms, where he can squeeze you gently without the tactical vest getting in the way, “Steven and the guys are going to stay here and see if they can figure out any new leads, but please don’t lose hope.” 

You nod your head, wiping at your cheeks again to get rid of the last of the tears that had fallen down your face, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to swear at you.” You mutter. 

“It’s okay,” He’s smiling now, “I know how frustrating this is, but we’re used to this kind of stuff, we’re going to find them, okay?” You nod your head again, “Let me get you back to your hotel, I’m sure you’ve got people you need to update.” 

Your heart sinks again. All the people waiting back home, expecting good news, about to pile on even more pressure on your shoulders. You follow Marcus back to the car, stopping only briefly to tell Pete what had happened. He gives you the same sorry look that he’d given you back in London when he’d told you the Met had exhausted all their available leads. 

When you’re finally sat in the front of Marcus’ car, pulling out from the storage facility, you dial Lizzie’s number. She picks up on the third ring, “It’s bad news.” Is all you say. 

“Shit,” She sighs, you can hear her tapping away on her laptop in the background, “I’m sorry Jones.” 

“It’s okay,” You shrug, “I’m on the way back now, so if you could tell everyone I should be able to dial into a call for an update in the next hour that would be great.” 

“I’ll get it set up,” She replies, “How are you holding up?” 

You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes as Marcus hits a queue of traffic, “I’m pissed off,” You say, making sure to look toward Marcus when you say it, trying to gauge whether he thinks you’re pissed off at him or just the situation, “I didn’t sign up to be chasing the Sutton Hoo mask halfway around the world, I just wanted something easy.” 

“Well, you probably didn’t choose the right museum for that,” Lizzie chuckles, “Full to the brim of things we shouldn’t have anymore.” 

“I will never understand why they couldn’t have just stolen the items they really want back,” You groan as you let you head fall to the headrest, “Steal the Benin Bronzes back to Nigeria, by all means, but this, really?” 

“I know Jones, I know,” You hear Lizzie typing again, “Meeting is set for an hour from now, and when you’re done come down the hall and drink wine with me, you sound like you need it.” 

“Thank you,” You smile, eternally grateful that she’d agreed to come with you, “I’ll speak to you later.” 

You hang up, pocketing your phone, enjoying the silence as Marcus drives you back into the city. You’re thinking of every way you can break the news to everyone back home, trying to think of the way that will cause you the least amount of emotion. The last thing you need to do is cry in front of every single member of the board of directors and the senior management team. 

“I can hear your brain thinking,” Marcus speaks quietly, trying to lighten the mood, “Talk to me, maybe I can help.” 

“Any tips on how to tell a museum you still don’t have their artefacts whilst trying not to burst into tears whilst doing it?” You turn your head to look at him. 

He shrugs in defeat, “Okay, you’re right, I can’t help with that.” 

You let out a little chuckle, “You wanna know why?” He nods at you, “Because you’re a man,” He looks at you with a grin on his face, “It’s true, people are far more forgiving when men make mistakes, more eager to give you a second chance.” 

He looks like he’s thinking and then he goes to open his mouth before he stops, “Can’t say I’d ever thought about it, but now I think about it, you’re probably right.” 

It doesn’t take much longer for his car to pull up in front of the hotel, he’s not killed the engine, so you grab your things and open the door, “I’m sorry again, for snapping at you,” You speak once you’re out of the car, leaning down to speak to him through the open door, “Wasn’t very professional.” 

“Neither was attempting to kiss you in the elevator,” He smirks, “So we’ll call it even.”

You roll your eyes at him, closing the door and waving him off as you steel yourself for the call that’s to come. 

“And I totally understand that,” You’re trying to talk, but there are too many voices trying to speak over you at once, “Hey!” You exclaim to get everyone’s attention, “How about you let me finish and then we can discuss next steps?” 

The call had descended into chaos as soon as you’d opened your mouth to say the artefacts were still missing. Hartwig was demanded to know how the FBI team had let them slip through their fingers, there was someone from the comms team who wouldn’t shut up about crisis comms to the public and someone from finance was worried about people pulling their funding. 

At your outburst, everyone is quiet, “Right, thank you,” You clear your throat, “As I was saying, it’s definitely a disappointment that the artefacts weren’t found, but the FBI team are confident that there are leads they can follow, there’s a team still at the storage facility doing what they can, and Agent Pike is sending the note off for analysis, this is by no means the end of the road.” 

You were doing a good job of convincing yourself, as well as everyone else, that all hope was not lost. There’s a murmuring from your laptop as people start to discuss amongst themselves what to do next, so before it descends back into chaos, you’re chiming in again, “I wonder if it would be possible to find out if we’d had any suspicious communications from anyone in the lead up to the theft?” You ask, “People threatening anything along these lines, or emails demanding things back in a way that is different to normal, I think that would really help the team over here.” 

Angela, who was rabbiting on about crisis comms before, pipes up, “I can check that, I’ll email anything over to you if we find anything.” 

“Okay, so before I log off, does anyone want to ask anything or add anything to the conversation?” 

It’s Mike that pipes up now, “Just wanted to say thank you for doing such a good job Jones,” You can feel a lump in your throat, “I know this isn’t easy but I think I speak for all of us here when I say we’re grateful to have you on the ground out there, and don’t doubt that you’ll bring our artefacts back safely.” 

You hadn’t counted on it being your boss’ kind words that made you well up in front of everyone, “Thanks Mark,” You manage to choke out before you can add, “If anyone has anything else, please feel free to email me.” Then you’re signing off so you can press the palms of your hands to your eyes to try and stop the tears from falling.  

That glass of wine Lizzie promised was sounding pretty fucking excellent right about now. You grab your phone, shutting the laptop down, before you’re knocking on her door moments later. 

“Just in time,” She grins, opening the door with a glass of wine in hand already, “I’ve just opened it, come in.” 

She pours you a second glass of the wine, you take a look at the label on the bottle, “Did you pick the most expensive bottle from the minibar?” You ask, smiling. 

“I did indeed,” She says with pride, clinking her glass to yours, “It’s the least they can do for us if we’re going to be holed up here for the foreseeable future.” 

“Amen to that.” You speak, taking a big drink, “Shit, that’s good.” 

“Was the check in as bad as expected?” She asks, sitting cross legged on the bed whilst you take a seat in the chair at her desk. 

“It was a lot of dick swinging about how the FBI can’t do a job, then a lot of dick swinging about how we manage the comms, and then finance having a meltdown about everyone pulling their funding,” You sigh, taking another drink of wine, “The sooner we can track this shit down, the better.” 

“I don’t know,” She mutters, “I could get used to American guys paying for my dinner.

You bark out a laugh, “Who is tonight’s lucky man?” 

“Tonight I’m out with Dale,” She leans to the side of her bed to pick up her phone, bringing up Tinder to show you his photo, “He’s going to take me for Mexican food tonight, apparently it’ll be the best I’ve ever had, I didn’t tell him I’d spent a month in Mexico about two years ago.” 

“Lizzie,” You scoff, “Dale looks like if he so much as looked at a jalapeño, he’d die,” You both fall into a fit of giggles, “There’s no way this man knows what good Mexican food is.” 

“Maybe if I drink enough margarita’s, it’ll be okay,” She catches her breath enough to take another sip of wine, “What about you?” She asks, “Hot date with Agent Pike?” 

You glare at her, “I told you the first time that it was a one-time thing.” 

“Right, so that explains why he was waiting in the lobby last night?” Oh. Busted. 

“What the hell were you doing in the lobby?” 

“Jones, I live here too,” She snorts, “I was waiting for last night’s date to pick me up,” She shrugs, “He was smooth with getting you to turn your phone off by the way.”

Your hand reaches for the nearest thing you can throw at her, which is the pen on the desk, she expertly catches it though, “He’s just being nice,” You mumble, “It’s either that or I spend all my time stuck in this fucking hotel, and, not that it matters, but I will be on my own tonight, I’m going to soak in a hot bath, order room service and pass out.”

Lizzie’s phone vibrates on the bed, “Oh, shoot, Dale is almost here,” She’s downing the wine, “Take the rest of the bottle back with you, but don’t get too drunk before you get in the bath, I don’t want to have to explain why you’ve drowned to anyone back home.” 

You drain what’s left in your cup, leaving that in her room, but gripping the neck of the bottle like she’d suggested, you wait whilst she closes her door, giving her a quick hug, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” You warn her as she walks to the elevator, the usual advice you give her when she’s rushing from the office in London to go on dates. 

When you’re finally alone in your room, you take a deep breath and let your shoulders sink down. You’d been so stressed that they were practically consistently raised high enough to touch your earlobes. You pour another glass of wine, settling down onto the bed, flicking the TV on to find something mindless to watch. You settle on some kind of talk show, you don’t care about the guests, or the hosts, any of it really, but it’s background noise that fills the empty space so you can scroll through your phone for a while. 

You spend a little time texting with your mum back home, updating her on everything that’s been happening, and you send Mark a text to thank him for having your back, once again during the meeting. You smile when he sends a photo of Geralt back, who is curled up next to him on his sofa, fast asleep. God, you couldn’t wait to be back home with him.

You’re contemplating getting into the bath when there’s a knock at the door. You hadn’t ordered room service and didn’t remember calling for a replenishment of anything. You pull open the door and stood there, arms laden with plastic bags full of what smelt like pretty good food, was Marcus Pike. 

“I wanted to cheer you up,” He says as you move to let him inside, “So I got Chinese food,” He sets the bags down on the desk and starts unpacking everything, “I didn’t know what you’d like so.” 

“You bought one of everything?” You ask with a smile. 

“Pretty much,” He admits, “But I go to this place all the time and it’s all pretty good.” 

You pick up the receiver of the phone on the desk, “You want a cocktail?” You ask. 

“I’ll take an amaretto sour please.” 

You put in an order for his drink and a negroni for yourself before you’re picking up a pair of chopsticks. 

“Didn’t peg you as a negroni girl,” Marcus states, “You strike me as more of a fruity woman.”  

“There are plenty of things you don’t know about me Marcus,” You wink, “Now tell me what everything is because I’m starving.” 

Once he’s talked you through each dish and your cocktails have been delivered, you start making your way through eating the mountain of food. You’re shoveling some noodles into your mouth when he speaks again. 

“I’ve been dying to ask, but where was your favourite place to work when you were in the field?” 

You think for a second, taking a bite of egg roll, “Probably Greece,” You speak through your mouthful, “I grew up going there on holiday with my parents and there’s nothing better than digging a few feet from the sea under the sun.” 

“And what’s the best thing you’ve ever found?” 

“That’s like asking a mother to pick her favourite child!” You argue. 

“They’d still be able to tell me.” He chuckles, digging his chopsticks into some of the beef dish he’d bought. 

You think for a second over another bite of egg roll, “I was part of a team on Crete who uncovered an undisturbed tomb in Siteia – it was incredible,” You swallow your mouthful, “There were these incredible grave goods like a bronze sword and these two amazing gold bracelets, it’s probably the only time I actually felt like Indiana Jones, digging up literal treasure.” 

“You ever think of going back?” He asks, “To the field?” 

“All the time,” You answer honestly, “I miss the thrill of it all, and the people you meet, and not really having anyone to answer to, I find working at a desk incredibly boring, but I’ve got these responsibilities now which aren’t easy to let go of.” 

He nods in understanding, “So, whatever your accident was, you’re recovered enough to go back?” 

“I recovered enough physically in a few months,” You shift in your chair, you hate talking about this, “Mentally it took far longer, which is why I ended up stuck behind a desk in the first place.” 

He reaches out to grip your arm, “I’m sorry,” Marcus apologizes, “I don’t mean to pry, and you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I’m sorry it affected you so much.” 

“It’s okay,” You shake your head, moving to pick up your drink, “One day I’ll tell you, but for now, let’s change the subject.” 

“Understood.”

You spend the rest of the evening skirting around any conversation to do with your accident, Marcus speaks at great length about his love of art, his favourite paintings, his childhood growing up in Texas. He skirts around his own subjects, whenever the conversation moves anywhere towards his recent failed engagement he stalls, switching his story to something else – he thinks you don’t notice, but you do. You notice the way his face drops, the smile you love so much disappearing for just a second whilst he thinks of something else he can say. 

Once you’ve had your fill of food and your glasses are empty, you move to the minibar to open another bottle of wine, filling two glasses before you sit back down, Marcus at the desk and you propped up on the bed, much like you and Lizzie had been sat earlier, just in reverse. It’s quiet whilst you sip you wine before Marcus breaks it. 

“I know I didn’t find your artefacts, Jones,” He speaks quietly, “But I’d really like to kiss you now.”

You’re taken aback slightly, but it’s a pleasant surprise. All you’ve been able to think about since he showed up unannounced to cheer you up is how much you were desperate to taste him. You set your wine glass on the bedside table, sitting up a bit further, “As long as you promise to find them at some point in the future,” You match is quiet tone of voice, “Then feel free.” 

He stands and walks to the bed, sitting down on the side. One of his hands comes to rest on your waist, you can feel his thumb running soothing back-and-forth motions through your shirt before he’s leaning in. You let your eyes flutter shut and you tilt your head up a little and this his lips are pressed to yours and it’s like every worry you’ve ever had is seeping from your bones. 

It's soft and tentative, just a simple press of his lips to yours for a few seconds before he’s pulling away, just enough to rest his forehead to yours. You open your eyes, meeting his, which have a look similar to the boy in school who couldn’t believe he’d been able to kiss the prettiest girl in school. It makes you bold.

You let one of your hands run up his arm and across his shoulders, resting in the curls on the back of his neck, “Come here.” You breathe, pulling him back to your lips.

This time you’re both surer of it. As soon as you feel his lips move to open against your own, you’re following suit, letting his tongue mingle with yours, taking in the taste of the cocktail he’d drunk and the mint of his toothpaste. He’s shifting on the bed, moving his body so he’s towering over you. You manage to move your legs so he can settle between them, but you don’t miss how he won’t press his body flush to yours and you’re grateful. It would take very little in the moment, whilst he’s kissing you like he is, like he was born to do it, for you to throw caution to the wind and take your clothes off for him. 

He pulls his lips from yours and moves to press them softly to your jawline instead. You let out a shaky breath as his lips then trail down your neck, your own hands passing down his body, finding the naked skin of his back where his shirt has come free from its tucked place in his jeans. You make the softest of movements, dragging your fingernails lightly across the skin just above the waistband of his jeans and you hear it, the moan that he thinks he’s hidden in the dip of your collarbone.

He's stopped his movements altogether now and you think maybe you’ve moved too fast, scared him off, just like you usually do, but then his lips are back on yours, that deliciously plump bottom lip making contact with your own. 

“I should go,” He breathes out once he’s kissed you again, “I don’t want to, but I should go.” 

“Yeah,” You sigh in agreement, “You should.” 

He pushes himself up, standing from the bed to fix his clothes so they don’t look so ruffled. You’re standing as well, trying not to feel incredibly awkward, which Marcus senses. 

“Jones, trust me when I say, I don’t want to go,” He’s taking your hands in his, “But if I don’t, we’ll both be in trouble.” 

“Maybe we should agree to keep this strictly professional?” You suggest.

He’s looking at you like you’ve gone mad, “I can’t, not now I know how soft your lips are or how beautiful you sound when I kiss your neck,” He dips to press a kiss to your cheek, “I just need to slow down with you.” 

“We don’t have a lot of time, Marcus.” You mumble. 

“Don’t think about it,” He presses, “Don’t think about the time limit, and just believe me when I say I’ll come back, okay?”  He kisses your lips now, hands cupping your face as he does and you can feel it, you can feel that he means it, that he’s trying not to rush this even though you could be gone in a week. 

He pulls away, resting his forehead back to yours, “Okay.” 

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