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catfern · 8 months ago

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outback.

in support of palestine ∙ the reality of tlou ∙ resources

pairing: trucker!abby x afab!reader

music: her - unloved

word count: 1.7k

summary: the night shift at a remote petrol station sounded like easy double pay. but nights get lonely. you've gotta find something to keep yourself entertained.

warnings: porn with a smidgen of plot, fingering, some perverted staring, tiny tiny implied age gap, australia. this is rlly just porn

fern says ⎯ THIS ONE IS FOR ALL THE AUSSIES IN THE AUDIENCE MAKE SOME NOISE!!!!!! this truly is self indulgent cause i miss flirting with hot women who call me darl.

you brought this on yourself, really.

the pale blue of the bug zapper fought a contrast with the dying fluorescents, painting half the aisles in an eery, twilight movie shade. the heat of a high december night was creeping, clinging to your shitty polyester uniform as you camp out in front of the only standing fan.

you had begged for a job, pleaded for it really, in the wickedness of this economic climate. you had run, tail between your legs, from your local chain grocery at the sight of the price of an avocado, and thrown yourself at the feet of the next passing employer. like a squire to the knights of old.

you just hadn’t expected it would be this job.

the gatekeeper of one of the last vestiges of civilisation. the night shift at a deserted highway petrol station.

the flickering floodlights by the pumps fighting an uphill battle to keep the creeping night at bay, you can do nothing but stare, eyes adjusting, ‘unadjusting’, readjusting to the dark over and over again. you’d had a total of two customers since you took over from the day shift crew. one just threw a gatorade your way in exchange for the bathroom key.

the high beam headlights of an oncoming truck shake you from your fading thoughts, baking you into the linoleum tile as you squint, blind. asshole.

you’d been warned about truckers, briefly. handsy rednecks, your manager had called them in passing while giving you a tour of the storage room. desperate old fucks who crawl like dogs to anything with a hole.

you watch with an almost bated breath as the peeling yellow cabin of the long-haul truck pulls into park, your eyes following its jaunty movement through the glass of the front windows. you’re starting to think maybe you should have brought an illegal switchblade to work. if you had one.

you avert your gaze quick, grabbing at something from the magazine rack in desperate hopes to appear disinterested, unapproachable. 15 Ways to Homeschool Your Kids. sure, that works.

the bell above the door chimes, you spy the scuffed leather boots crossing the plastic tiling with heavy footfall.

“y’got a lounge?”

standing at the counter, you have to admit, she’s not what you pictured when you saw the truck. not that what you see is at all worth of complaint.

a thin sheen of sweat clings to her, echoes of the heat of the road. her skin is flushed, the contour of her muscle sitting, almost man-made, in a thin, cotton singlet. her hair is tied tight, her features, sharp, discerning, eyeing you down. you try not to stare, too obviously, at the soft outline of her nipple piercings beneath her shirt.

“hm?” you’re distracted.

“a lounge, darl. trucker lounge?” she repeats slowly with a bite of a smirk, looking at you like you were only a little bit stupid. your stomach drops with the honey of the nickname.

your eyes dart around the small space of the shop. you barely had space for the 3 aisles and the dingy bathroom. you clear your throat, trying to shake the feeling of fascination, “oh — uh, nah.”

she scoffs, a wicked, small laugh, before retreating to browse the snack section.

you watch her, when you think she isn’t looking. small, caught glimpses in your feigned disinterest. she’s been on the road long, a tension in the broadness of her shoulders obvious as she readjusts her posture, eyeing the chips. you try bury whatever rears its head in your stomach when you hear her groan as she squats to better see the canned fruit. a roughness in her voice, lead with age and smoke.

you drop your reading material and smile, tight lipped, polite, as she approaches the counter. a cold meat pie and a ginger beer.

"and uh — pack'a rothmans, thanks, love.”

you nod, turning to wrestle with the rusting cigarette cage behind the counter, when you hear her chuckle, breathy and deep as she talks,

“y’look a little young to have kids.”

spinning back so quick you make yourself dizzy, you swipe the shitty magazine off the counter, discarded and unimportant, “nah, i… i was just bored.”

she rakes her eyes over you, slow, and you can’t help but feel the pull, magnetic, a knot in your stomach as she studies you. you feel caught in a trap, under her gaze. looking up at her, her looming presence is becoming all too real.

you slide the pack of cigarettes over the counter, trapped meeting her eye. a smile, something sly, plays on her lips as she thanks you, moving to catch a breeze of the fan.

an uncomfortable beat of silence passes between you. well, it’s uncomfortable for you. no longer able to hide behind disinterest behind glossy paper, you instead wrestle with yourself to seem at least neutrally interested, not utterly obsessed. you wring your hands behind the shelter of the till.

the woman shakes a cigarette free from the pack, holding it between the skin of her lips. “you smoke?” she’s looking at you, through the corner of her eye.

no, never.

“uh, yeah.”

you follow her out the shop, tied to her artificial shadow in the fluorescents. something is crawling in the night, when you step outside. a cicada silence echoes across the gathering dirt and dust.

she offers you the cig she had been holding, you take it gingerly, holding it in your mouth as she holds her lighter up. she brings her hand to cup the flame, to keep the absent breeze from destroying it. you feel, just slightly, the brush of her calloused palms against the low of your cheek, and you pray that the navy hue of the bug zapper is enough to hide the heat on your skin.

smoke fills your lungs, foreign and quick, an itch inside you that feels impossible. you cough and splutter to the chorus of her raspy laughter.

“you haven’t smoked a day in your life.” she says with a lopsided smile, plucking the cigarette from your hand and bringing it to her lips, taking a long, constrastly confident draw.

you shake your head in between wheezes, “is that what everyone is always going on about?”

“you’ll get used to it, here,”

she hands it back to you, you feel obliged to take it. to try again, as she so quietly commands. your second go is met with an only slightly irritating tickle in your throat.

“that’s it, good girl,” something that seems so unsure rolls off her like syrup, something you had never known you were so desperate for. her hand finds the small of your back, her fingers dancing circles in something akin to comfort, to praise.

you look up to find her eyes already on you, tracing the contours of your neck in icy blue form.

the smell of artificial pine and day-old dust clings to her, swallows you whole as you fall victim to her touch, light-headed and weak at the knees as her breath fills your lungs.

she’s nothing if not vocal, desperation falling from her lips in tortured moans as she presses herself into the crook below your jaw, drawing your soft skin beneath her teeth, softly licking the littered aftermath, a trail down your chest.

she’s quick to undress you, pulling impatiently at the scratchy fabric of your worn company polo shirt. she’s not phased by any forgotten need for privacy, for decency. she’s only here in passing, after all.

“oh, sweetheart,”

the lace of your bra is a temptation not lost on her, a delight she so happily indulges in after days on the road. in some perverted part of her mind, you wore it for her. maybe, in some cosmic, fated way, you did.

her hands snake down your body, helping themselves to the lux of your curves as her lips press, all-consuming, against yours. her fingers lightly spreading your legs, a mean chuckle souring the kiss.

she’s not at all easy, or kind, the way she pulls you open, watches you fall apart in the brutality of her control. she touches you like she aims to destroy you, her fingers working relentlessly to the pull of your walls, unheard to your pleas to — please, slow down.

“that’s it, darling. come on,” it’s sharp, delirious and oh so pleased to hear you, a whisper tickling the dip of your chest, watching you through the blonde of her eyelashes as you throw your head back, your body rocking to the rhythm she sets.

“p-please, fuck, jesus, fuck!” if she was any meaner, she would have laughed. but god, she’s distracted. driven mad by her own dripping need.

“you wanna come, baby? yeah, yeah?” she’s slowing down, and you chase her question with a desperate, shakey nod. “yeah, you do. come here.”

she takes your hand in hers, delicate, kind, a wicked contrast. under the guidance of her touch, you grip the stiff denim of her jeans, tender, unsure, until she leads you to the heat between her legs and you nearly melt. her hand goes to fiddle with her belt, her eyes finding yours, bleary, in the haze.

“think you can help me out, sweetheart?” she nods along with you, and you’re unsure if she’s copying you, or you are her.

“yeah — i can, please, please,” you whine, your hips still rutting a lazy pace against the now stagnant force inside you. your hand pulls, impatiently, at the waistband of her cotton boxers, pulling them down to sit unceremoniously at her hips.

“fuck, good girl,” she seethes at the languid circles you draw on her clit, gentle and paced, as you chase your own euphoria on her fingers, “come on,” a whisper, hot on your neck, “i’ll go faster if you do, darlin’.”

you pick up in a daze, so compliant to the whim of her demand, so desperate to feel her calloused fingers trace the tide against your centre. rushing that feeling, wretched to have her tear you apart.

her fingers rock against you without care, wrenching every ragged moan from the cut of your throat as her speed picks up, “that’s it, fuck, you feel so good, sweetness. keep — keep going.” hoarse whispers against your chest as she presses sloppy, undone kisses to the ghosts of your ribcage.

you watch, above the broadness of her shoulder, as a peak of the sun paints the horizon a muddy pink, your moans a soundtrack to the emptiness of the desert as you practically bounce on the stranger’s fingers, loud for your own release.

yeah, you lost your job.

⎯ kofi

taglist; @whore4abby @endureher @beemillss @afraidofheightss @sentimentalyellow

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x you #abby x reader #abby tlou #tlou abby #abby x you #abby the last of us #abby anderson #abby tlou2

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millyh23 · 3 months ago

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Weathering the storm

Alessia Russo x Reader

Word count: 1.5k

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Y/N thought they could just hold on a little longer until the storm passed. But fate had other plans. The screech of tires echoed in the distance, and before Y/N could react, the world spun out of control. Metal crunched and glass shattered, filling the air with a cacophony of chaos. Y/N braced for impact, but the last thing they remembered was the blinding flash of headlights before everything went dark.

Meanwhile, Alessia was at home, scrolling through her phone when an alert buzzed in her pocket. Her heart sank as she read the news: a massive pile-up on the highway, just a few miles from where Y/N was headed. Panic surged through her veins. She dialed Y/N’s number frantically, but it went straight to voicemail.

“Please be okay,” she whispered, her voice trembling. The thought of anything happening to Y/N was unbearable. Within moments, she was out the door, driving like a whirlwind through the rain-soaked streets.

When Alessia arrived at the scene, the sight was devastating. Emergency lights flashed in a kaleidoscope of colors, and the air was thick with smoke and the cries of sirens. Her heart raced as she scanned the wreckage, each twisted metal frame a haunting reminder of the fragility of life.

“Y/N!” she shouted, her voice cracking as she pushed through the crowd. But there was no response, only the chaos surrounding her. The sight of so many mangled cars sent dread washing over her. The worst scenarios played out in her mind, each one more horrifying than the last.

As she moved closer, the weight of despair settled in her chest. She stumbled upon a paramedic, desperate for information. “Please, have you seen someone? A black BMW with white lines on it?” she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper.

The paramedic shook his head solemnly. “I’m sorry, ma’am. We’re still assessing the situation. There are a lot of cars involved.”

Alessia felt her heart drop. She stepped back, the world around her blurring as tears threatened to fall. What if something happened to Y/N? The thought pierced through her like a knife. She felt a wave of nausea as she fought to keep herself together.

Just then, a figure emerged from the haze of smoke and chaos. It was Y/N, covered in soot and drenched from the rain, rushing toward her with a frantic look in their eyes. Alessia’s heart soared, but it was quickly replaced by overwhelming relief mixed with anger.

“Y/N!” Alessia shouted, tears streaming down her cheeks as she ran to them. She enveloped Y/N in a fierce embrace, holding on as if they might disappear again. “Thank God you’re okay! I was so scared!”

Y/N wrapped their arms around Alessia, feeling the tremors of her body against theirs. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” they reassured, though their voice shook. “My car… it’s totaled, but I’m okay.”

Alessia pulled back just enough to look into Y/N’s eyes, searching for any signs of injury. “You promise? You’re really okay?”

Y/N nodded, their expression softening as they brushed a thumb across her cheek, wiping away her tears. “I’m here. I’m safe.”

But Alessia couldn’t shake the panic that had gripped her. The sight of the wreckage, the fear of losing Y/N—it was all too much. “I thought I lost you…” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Y/N gently cupped Alessia’s face, their eyes locking in a moment of understanding. “You’ll never lose me. I promise.”

As they finally made their way home, the weight of the day hung heavy in the air. Alessia couldn’t stop glancing over at Y/N, her heart still racing with the remnants of fear. Once inside, she felt an overwhelming urge to cling to Y/N, as if letting go would mean losing them again.

For the next few days, Alessia stayed glued to Y/N’s side, refusing to let them out of her sight. She followed them from room to room, wrapping her arms around them whenever they were still. “I just need to know you’re okay,” she would whisper, burying her face in their shoulder.

Y/N chuckled softly, though it was tinged with tenderness. “I’m okay, Alessia. I promise I’m not going anywhere.”

But Alessia couldn’t shake the image of the crash from her mind. Each time she thought about it, her heart would constrict painfully. So she held on tighter, drawing comfort from Y/N’s presence.

One evening, as they cuddled on the couch, Y/N turned to Alessia, brushing their fingers through her hair. “You know, it’s okay to be scared. What happened was serious.”

“I know,” Alessia replied softly, her voice muffled against Y/N’s chest. “But I can’t help it. You mean everything to me.”

Y/N smiled gently, tilting Alessia’s chin up to meet their gaze. “And you mean everything to me. That will never change.”

With that promise hanging in the air, Alessia felt a warmth spread through her, reminding her that in the face of chaos, love was their anchor. As she nestled closer to Y/N, she knew they would face whatever challenges lay ahead together.

As the week wore on, Alessia’s clinginess began to morph into a newfound appreciation for the small moments they shared. They spent evenings watching movies, cuddling under blankets, and sharing whispered secrets in the dark.

One night, as they lay together, Alessia turned to Y/N, her heart swelling with love. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life. But being with you helps me feel safe again.”

Y/N smiled, brushing a lock of hair behind Alessia's ear. “You’re my home, Alessia. No matter what happens out there, you’ll always be my safe place.”

With those words, a wave of calm washed over her. She felt a sense of peace settle in her chest, knowing that they could weather any storm together.

As the sun began to set on another day, Alessia snuggled closer to Y/N, feeling more at ease than she had in days. “Let’s make a promise,” she said suddenly.

“A promise?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Yes! A promise that no matter what happens, we’ll always talk about our fears, our worries. We’ll share everything, okay? I don’t want to ever go through something like that alone again,” she declared, determination shining in her eyes.

Y/N nodded earnestly. “I promise. We’ll face everything together, and I’ll always be here to listen.”

“Good,” Alessia said, a smile spreading across her face. “Then no more hiding our feelings. We’re a team.”

“Always,” Y/N affirmed, leaning down to press a soft kiss on her forehead.

As they settled into the comfort of one another’s arms, Alessia felt a renewed sense of hope. The world outside could be chaotic and unpredictable, but within their little bubble, they had created a sanctuary filled with love, understanding, and resilience.

Together, they would navigate whatever life threw their way, hand in hand, heart to heart.

Days turned into weeks, and slowly but surely, the memories of the accident began to fade, though they were never completely gone. Instead of feeling like a shadow lurking over them, it transformed into a reminder of their strength and the bond they shared.

Y/N and Alessia found themselves enjoying more adventures together as the weather improved. They took leisurely drives, laughing and singing along to the radio, each journey a testament to their resilience. They visited parks, went on hiking trails, and spent evenings at cozy cafes, cherishing the simple joys of life.

One sunny Saturday afternoon, they decided to take a trip to the beach. The sound of waves crashing against the shore and the salty breeze filled the air as they spread a blanket on the sand. Alessia watched as Y/N dashed toward the water, laughter echoing in the air. It was a sound she had missed during those heavy days following the accident.

“Come on, Alessia! The water’s amazing!” Y/N called, splashing water in her direction.

Alessia laughed, her heart light as she joined Y/N in the surf. They played in the waves, splashing each other and racing back and forth. For the first time in a while, Alessia felt completely free, her worries washed away with each wave.

After their impromptu water fight, they settled back on the blanket, both breathless and grinning. Y/N turned to Alessia, their expression turning serious for a moment. “You know, I’ve been thinking…”

“About what?” Alessia prompted, tilting her head curiously.

“About how we’ve grown through all of this. The accident brought a lot of fear, but it also made me realize how important you are to me. I don’t want to take a single moment for granted anymore,” Y/N said, their voice steady yet filled with emotion.

Alessia felt her heart swell. “I feel the same way. I’ve learned to appreciate the little things, like this…” She gestured around them, taking in the beauty of the beach, the sun setting in the distance, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. “And being with you.”

Y/N smiled, leaning in closer. “What if we made it a point to have more days like this? Just us, exploring, living in the moment?”

“I’d love that,” Alessia replied, her eyes sparkling. “Let’s make it a tradition. A reminder that life is precious and we should enjoy every second together.”

“Deal.” Y/N extended their pinky, and Alessia linked hers with a grin.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky transformed into a canvas of colors, and they sat in comfortable silence, side by side. Alessia leaned her head on Y/N’s shoulder, feeling grateful for the love that surrounded them.

“Promise me something?” Alessia said softly.

“Anything,” Y/N replied, their gaze focused on the waves.

“Promise me that you’ll always stay. No matter how hard it gets,” she urged.

“I promise,” Y/N assured, wrapping an arm around her. “We’re in this together, always.”

The warmth of Y/N's embrace wrapped around Alessia like a protective cocoon, and she felt a sense of peace wash over her. They stayed there, watching the last rays of sunlight fade away, knowing that whatever storms might come their way in the future, they would face them together, hand in hand.

As they made their way back home that evening, hearts full and spirits high, Alessia knew that they had weathered the worst and emerged stronger. Love had carried them through the darkest moments, and as long as they had each other, every day would be a new beginning, full of hope and endless possibilities.

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The End

#offside story #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso soccer #alessia russo x reader #woso #alessia russo x y/n

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thisapplepielife · 15 days ago

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Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

Into a Tailspin

Prompt Day 27: Traffic | Word Count: 959 | Rating: E | CW: Sexual Content, Premature Ejaculation | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, First Kiss, Getting Together, Virgin Eddie, Coming in Jeans

Eddie can feel the hum of the road beneath the tires, as they're piled together in the back of the Wheeler station wagon. Far too many of them for the space available, and somehow Steve always ends up in the very back. Now, by association, Eddie is in the back, too.

It's been a long day. A trip to Indy, a day full of Christmas shopping and seeing lights, and now they're all exhausted for the long, long ride home.

Everyone is asleep, or at least pretending to be. Well, except for Nancy and Robin in the front, which is good, since Nancy's driving. They keep changing the music to things Eddie isn't at all fond of, but Eddie can hear Robin's nervous chatter, and he smiles internally, just a little. She's trying. He's not sure if she'll ever get there, but she's definitely working at projecting what she wants out into the universe.

Nancy plays everything closer to the vest, so Eddie's not totally sure if she feels the same way, but he's willing to be she's not exactly uninterested.

Eddie shifts on the floorboard, and his arm bumps into Steve's.

They're so close that he nearly feels Steve's breath on his face. Eddie's pretending to be asleep, and he doesn't know why he's faking it. That's not true. He knows why. It's the only way he feels like he can be this close to Steve.

Like Robin, he's been throwing it out there, hoping it'll stick. It hasn't, not so far, and that's okay. Eddie gets it.

Eddie's just about to doze off for real, when Steve's hand finds Eddie's hip, and Eddie doesn't even have time to react to that before Steve's mouth is on his. And not only is Steve kissing him, his tongue is already in Eddie's mouth.

Holy shit.

It's his first kiss, and it's a French kiss.

Eddie isn't really sure what to do with that information.

He kisses him back, hoping that it's not awful. He's also hoping that everyone else around is actually truly asleep, not faking like the two of them were, or peeking over the backseat.

Gravitating towards each other now seems crazy, and Eddie can't even wrap his head around it. He feels like he's been flirting with Steve for months, and now is the moment he realizes it's been working?

There's not much by way of traffic on the highway this late at night, but a car does pass, their headlights filling the interior of the station wagon, and they pull apart, where Eddie is able to see Steve's eyes, just for a moment.

And then it's over, and Eddie just has to lay there and overthink his entire life.

Back in Hawkins, the car stops, and sleepy kids pile out. Eddie feels pulled taut, on edge. Steve gets out, stretches his arms over his head, showing Eddie a sliver of hairy stomach.

Eddie wants to die. Wants to melt into the pavement and cease to be. Was it nothing? Was it everything? Eddie doesn't know, and he can't ask. There are too many prying ears of little shitheads. Is he really gonna have to go home and just stew about this? He'll go mad. Crazy. Lose his goddamn mi-

"Want a ride home?" Steve asks, interrupting his spiral, like it's any normal night. Like they haven't shifted something fundamentally between them.

But Eddie nods, because he wants to see this through. Wants answers.

Wants to do it again.

Barely out of the driveway, Steve's hand is on his thigh, and creeping higher.

Eddie's not opposed. He just isn't experienced, that's all. His dick is already straining against the zipper of his jeans, and he wants to squirm against the leather seat to relieve some of the pressure. Steve's torturing him. Not on purpose, probably. He surely doesn't know that this is new for Eddie, that it's thrown him into a tailspin.

A very horny tailspin.

Steve's driving, watching the road, and when they stop at the traffic light on Main, no other cars around, Steve's fingers brush Eddie's crotch. Fingertips ghosting across denim, a promise in the form of light grazes, but even that's too much. He can't. Eddie presses the back of his head into the headrest, squeezes his eyes shut, and comes.

Just like that, in his jeans.

Now, he really does wish the ground had swallowed him up in the Wheeler's driveaway.

"Goddamn," Steve says.

Eddie whines, and presses his fist to his forehead, eyes still squeezed shut.

"No, that's good," Steve says, eyes still on the road, "that's real good. Take the edge off, because I've got plans for you."

And if Eddie could come again already, he's sure he would have from that mental image alone.

Steve's thumb is still rubbing the head of Eddie's cock through the wet spot on his jeans. It's bordering on painful, he's too sensitive, too far gone. Too new at this. But it feels good, too. Like he's on the sharpest knife's edge, trying to decide which way to tumble. Pain or pleasure. He's gripping the console with one hand, his own forehead with the other, trying to stop his chest from heaving.

Eddie finally has to cover Steve's hand with his own. He doesn't pull it away, instead he guides it lower, pressing harder, further down. Changing it up to a good pressure, one that's not so solely focused on the head of his spent cock.

No matter what Steve has in mind, Eddie's down. He's in. Steve can show him the ropes. He can tie him up with the ropes. Anything, everything.

The light goes green.

Eddie's imagination is overactive with the possibilities, as Steve pulls through the intersection and keeps driving.

If you want to write your own, or go see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! 🚘

#steddieholidaydrabbles #prompt: traffic #steddie #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie fan fic #steddie fic #stranger things #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles

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yourfavoritewitchbitch · 1 year ago

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Badge Bunny

Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader

Summary: Getting pulled over by one of Stark County's finest turns into anything but a routine traffic stop.

Word count: 3.3K

18+ MDNI! Go on, get!

Warnings: Porn with a smidge of plot. Allusion to cheating (but not really!). Degradation. Oral (male receiving). Throat fucking. Spitting. Choking. Breeding kink. Size kink. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it!). Creampie.

Note: Thank you @starksbabie for keeping me motivated and constantly feeding the already rampant Gator thots! This one is for you you bb!

Badge Bunny Masterlist

Making your way down the familiar stretch of highway you weren't paying attention to any of your surroundings, only looking forward to getting home after a long night.

Headlights cutting through the dark, deserted fields on either side of the small 2 lane road. Nothing went on this time of night.

You hadn't noticed passing the familiar truck parked a little off the road in the gravel alcove.

Humming along with the radio lost in your own little world the sudden bright blue lights behind you hit your eyes from the reflection in the rearview.

“Shit,” you hissed, but wasted no time pulling over on the shoulder, rolling down the window as you came to a stop.

You watched through the side mirror. He slowly exits his truck as if he had all the time in the world. Adjusting his pants and belt before making his way toward you.

You noted he was missing his vest and usual hat. Black shirt tight across his chest and abdomen. His thigh holster was exactly where it always was, an accessory he was almost never without.

He sidled up to the window. Leaning down, so he could see your face.

“Evening, license and registration.” You couldn't roll your eyes any harder.

“Gator, I really need to get home. What's your problem this time?”

“Hey now, that's no way to speak to a deputy.” He tapped the badge strapped to his hip. Black gloves still adorn his hands. Pity. He did have nice hands.

“Sorry officer, where are my manners? What seems to be the problem tonight?” You put on your best innocent sounding voice, biting your lip as you looked up to him.

“Well, looks like you were going over the speed limit. Wanna step out of the vehicle for me?” his hard ass attitude on full display.

“Gator, seriously?” You deadpanned and rolled your eyes, but he didn't budge staring down his nose at you, maintaining his authoritative demeanor.

“Come on…out.” Patting the side of the door for emphasis.

Quickly realizing it was no use, huffing as he stepped back to make room for you to exit the car.

He whistles low. Appraising your bare legs in the skirt you wore for work. Waitressing at the local bar has its perks. Nice tips for a little skin.

It didn't help that your tits were pushed up practically spilling out of your top. The only sensible part of your outfit was the converse sneakers to battle any fatigue from running around all night.

“And where are you off to dressed like that? Your boyfriend let ya’ out of the house like this?” His eyes drifting down and back up.

Closing the door, and leaning against the side of the car he inches closer as he spoke. Looking up at him from under your lashes growing more unamused by the second.

“My boyfriend doesn't mind at all, especially when I bring home nice tips. We both know if anyone in this town looks at me wrong he'd kill’m.”

“Is that so pretty girl? Well, he's not here is he?” Making a show to look around at the deserted surroundings, smirking back at you. “Go ahead and turn around for me.”

You scoff. “Gator, is this absolutely necessary? I may have been going 5 over the limit.”

“Afraid so. Have t’make sure you don't have any weapons. Hands on the side of the vehicle. Go ahead.” Nodding toward the car.

You huff again but finally relent. Turning around slowly, placing your hands palm down; you'd been through this before, you knew the routine.

He stalked his way up to you. Anticipation already prickling your skin. Your panties growing damp.

His chest close enough to your back that you could feel the heat radiating from him even through your shirt.

His lips ghosted the shell of your ear when he spoke.

“If that boyfriend isn't going to put you in your place I guess I'll have to. And the way you've been sassing me, little girl, I've got my hands full t’night.”

He pulled back, removing his gloves one by one, throwing them in front of you on the top of the hood.

Placing his hands on your hips, he moved his thigh close behind you as he kicked your feet apart.

“Gator, come on. I don't have time for this tonight.”

He didn't say anything, instead lifting his hands higher on your body. Resting on your breasts, squeezing slightly, as your breath hitched.

He smirked to himself. Slowly dropping his hands down your body. Across your stomach. Down your hips. Traveling the expanse of your thighs to the bottom of your skirt. He paused, pinky grazing the bare skin there that sent goosebumps across your flesh.

He dropped past your skirt. Drawing a hand up your inner thigh as you shuddered.

Up, up, up slowly.

His finger grazed the now sopping fabric. You bit back a moan, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as he pressed slightly into your folds, pushing harder when he reached your clit.

“Haven't even fuckin’ touched you and you're soaked. Fuck” he hissed as he moved back up to your hips, quickly turning you easily to face him.

Your hands landing on his chest to keep you steady. He pinched your chin between his thumb and fingers to force you to look up at him.

“Get on your knees.” he ordered.

You easily complied. Hands sliding down his body for purchase as you slid. Your knees hit the asphalt. Wincing as its harsh terrain dug into your knees.

“Good girl.” the words going straight to your core.

As always a glutton for punishment and adoring any praise he would send your way.

Your mouth was salivating at the thought of tasting him. Without being told you popped the button on his pants, slowly sliding the zipper down.

“Fuck, look at you. Can't wait to get my cock in your mouth, huh? Been thinking about it all day?”

He could be a mouthy bastard but God was he right.

You licked your lips at the already prominent tent in his boxers. Pants falling just below his bulge that you palmed. He hissed, throwing his head back at the sudden contact.

Your fingers grazed the band of his underwear pulling it just a bit, just to let it go as it snapped back into place. His head turned back down to you. Eyes blown full of lust, irises no longer on display.

“Go on. It's not gonna suck itself.” He nodded, urging you to keep going.

Your hands pull down his boxers, exposing him fully to you. Cock springing free, teasingly so. The size of him never ceased to amaze you. He easily was the biggest you'd ever had the pleasure of handling and the cocky bastard knows it.

Long and thick. Tip flushed the prettiest shade of pink with a small bead of precum just beginning to spill from his slit.

You timidly placed your hand around the base as if you hadn't done it dozens of times before. He was hot and heavy in your palm.

“Mmmmmm…. Fuck.” He sounded as if he was ready to combust on the spot.

Wasting no time, you licked a long stripe up the entire underside of his shaft from base to tip as you heard him let out a low moan. He braced himself, placing his hands where yours had been planted moments before on the side of your car.

You wrapped your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue just the way he liked, eliciting a whine from him.

“Good fucking girl.” He groaned. “Been thinking about this mouth and throat all fucking day.”

You continued teasing the tip letting your hand pump his neglected shaft. You finally sank down, tip nudging the back of your throat.

“Mmmmmm… Goddamn.”

You pulled off of him with a loud pop.

“Better not let your daddy hear that Gator.” You smirked to yourself. “Taking the Lord's name in vain. Especially while your dick is getting sucked.” You tsked.

He weaved his fingers through your hair and gripped the back of your head, forcing you back to look at him. You winced at the sudden sting.

“Still fucking sassing me? My cock not enough to shut you up?” He gave you no time to respond.

“Open.”

You obediently obliged, sticking your tongue out and flattening it to accommodate him, letting your eyes fall shut.

Instead of his cock, spit hits the back of your throat. A look of shock passes your features as you look up at him under hooded eyes before a shy smile adorns your face.

“Fucking whore. Swallow.” He practically growled.

You close your lips and obey, a low hum of satisfaction escaping you as you swallow thickly.

Watching your little display intently, he pumped his length a few times with his free hand, before gripping the base tapping your already swollen lips.

Your lips part as his tip beaches the heat of your awaiting mouth. He quickly feeds you as much of his cock that you can manage.

He doesn't give you time to adjust as he plunges deep, hitting the back of your throat. You try to breathe through your nose, letting him use you as he pleases.

He steadies the hold on your head as he licks his lips.

“That's it. Good fucking girl. Take it. I know you can.”

You allow him to fuck your throat. You knew it would be sore in the morning from the relentless punches over and over.

Your eyes were watering from the abuse, mascara running down your cheeks. You can feel saliva running down your chin.

You knew how you must look but he was looking down at you as if you were the most beautiful site he's ever seen.

You timidly moved your hand up, reaching the edge of his boxers forcing them down even further. You wrapped your hand around his velvety sack weight heavy in your palm before tugging slightly.

“Oh fuck.” His hips snapped, bucking into you even further as you gagged around his cock.

He stopped suddenly, sliding his length from you. String of saliva momentarily connecting from your lips to his tip.

“Get up and get in the back of the truck.”

“But…” you were going to argue but the look in his eye told you he was done playing.

“Now.”

You quickly shuffled to your feet as he half covered himself to follow behind you.

He knew this late at night, there wasn't any chance of someone coming by spotting the two of you in such compromising positions but just to be on the safe side he reached into your car to kill the ignition.

He did the same with his. Bright blues fading into darkness. Undoing and removing his holster placing it in the front seat, so it wouldn't get in the way for what he intended to do next.

You opened the back door and slid yourself up into the cab. Legs dangling in the open doorway awaiting his next instruction.

He came into view, slowly slotting himself in-between your thighs. Your skirt riding up to expose more of yourself. The way your damp panties were sticking to your folds, suddenly made you grateful for the dim light.

His hands came to rest on the top of your thighs, squeezing. Thumbs rubbing soothingly in contrast to the way he looked like he wanted to devour you.

“Lay back and take those panties off f’me.”

You rucked your skirt up higher above your hips putting your clothed core on full display for him. They were his favorite. Pink and lacy with a little white bow on the top, just like a little present all for him.

He palmed himself, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he sucked in a sharp breath.

There were no formalities when seeing him like this. It was hot and needy. Quick and dirty.

You raised your hips, sliding your underwear down your thighs. When you made it past your knees, he slid them the rest of the way. Fingertips grazing your skin on the way down. You didn't miss the way he tucked them away for safekeeping in his pocket.

You parted your legs as far as they would go with the limited space.

“Look at you. Who's got you like this huh? Some trash at the bar make you this wet?”

You shook your head. “No baby, it's you. Always you.”

You place your fingers through his belt loops, dragging him a little closer.

“Greedy little whore tonight.” He laughs out, grinning at your eagerness. “Pull your shirt up and take those tits out.”

You do as you're told, pulling it up far enough to put your matching bra on display.

“You wear this hoping someone would see? Huh? Such a fuckin' little whore.”

He can see your already pert nipples through the transparent fabric. He cups both breasts before pulling the fabric down fully exposing you. Not wanting to take the time to properly undress you, latching his mouth to one laving his hot tongue across your bud before taking it between his teeth biting down slightly as you moan and arch into him.

His hand gave attention to the other, his large palm nearly covering the entirety of you before switching to do the same, so neither were neglected.

“Fuck, these tits are so perfect. And all mine.”

He nipped the skin, slowly moving down your sternum with hot opened mouth kisses as he finally sat back up. The cool air hitting the moisture left behind sending a small shiver through you.

His fingers began to trail the inside of your thigh, inching closer to the spot you yearn for him the most. A whine escapes you as he watches you squirm beneath him.

He runs his finger up your slit, lips slightly parting as he grazes your bundle of nerves that has your hips bucking on their own accord.

He slips a finger into your entrance with ease at how soaked you are.

“Of fuck,” your head lolls to the side.

“Jesus, this pussy always this needy?”

You just nodded as he removed his finger, making you whine, bringing it to his parted lips, sucking with an obnoxious slurp.

“Jesus, you always taste so fucking sweet.”

Growing impatient, you watch as he finally takes his aching cock back out from its confinements. Now an angry shade of red dons the tip, leaking another pearly bead from his slit. He was even harder than before if that was even possible.

He runs his tip through your folds, catching your clit. That had your back arching, gasping into the sensation.

“Yeah, that's it.”

He lined himself up with your entrance, breaching slightly. Nothing ever prepared you for the size, always a stretch no matter how many times he had fucked you.

It was something he relished in each time you were together. Knowing that no one else could fill you up like he could.

He pushed in. Slowly, inch by inch. Your mouth falling open. Toes curling in your shoes.

Once he reached the hilt, he quickly pulled out and snapped his hips back into yours. Punching the air from your lungs eliciting a moan so loud you were sure someone the next county over could hear.

“God you're so tight. I missed this pussy.” His face tightened with pleasure, mouth falling slack at the feeling of your walls practically strangling his cock.

There was no preamble as he sets a near brutal pace, fingers tight around your hips holding you in place sure to leave bruises in their wake. Punching little uh, uh, uhs from you with each upward thrust.

“That's it. That's fucking it. Who's pussy is this huh?” He growled down at you.

Too dazed to realize he had asked you a question, already cock drunk, he stopped mid thrust grabbing your jaw forcing you to look up at him, applying so much pressure your lips formed a small pout.

“I asked you a fucking question. Who's pussy is this?” He loosened his grip so you could answer as he began to piston his hips once more.

“Yours. It's…mmmm… fuck, all yours Gator.” you managed to squeak out as he placed his thumb on your clit, rubbing lazy circles into the bundle of nerves.

He moved his other hand, tightening it around your throat, pinning you there as your own hands grasped his wrist and forearm.

He pounded into your sopping cunt. Eyes trained to where the two of you connected, watching as his fat cock moves in and out. Enamored with the way you took him so well.

His hard length ramming into that spot within you that only he could ever seem to find, over and over, as his assault on your clit never ceased.

He knew that look, your eyes closing in anticipation of tipping over the edge.

“Yeah? That it sweet thing? You gonna cum all over my dick?”

“Ahhhh,” is all you could respond. He loosened the grip on your throat slightly. He wanted to hear the noises he could pull from you.

“Come on, my little badge bunny, cum f’me. I want to feel her grip me.”

He removed his hand entirely, bending down close to your ear, breath hot on your neck. He braced himself trying not to completely crush you beneath him.

“Be a good girl and cum. I'll give her what she really wants. Fill her up nice so everyone knows who this pussy belongs to. Make your belly all full and round. Everyone in this fuckin' town’ll know who you belong to. You want that? I know you do.”

His mouth was good for one thing and the filthy words falling from his lips was all it took.

Your orgasm hit hard, the sparks behind your eyes were blinding. You didn't have time to warn him as your pussy clamped down pulsing around him, trying to milk him.

You found purchase gripping his shoulders, screaming his name as you came. Just the way he likes.

He stopped toying with your clit to chase his own release. He wasn't far behind you, his thrusts becoming erratic.

He spilled into you with a loud groan and a string of words, coming out so fast you barely understood, “fuck iloveyou ilovethispussy gonnafuckin’knockyouup fuck fuck fuck.”

He continued a few more thrusts into your already overstimulated pussy before finally stilling.

He practically collapses on top of you. Face planted in between your neck and shoulder, he stays like for a few moments until he's breathing normally again.

He raised up, looking for any signs of distress from you.

“Sorry, you ok?” A sweeter tone to his voice, as he kissed your cheek.

“M’fine. You okay baby? Roy being a dick today?” You cooed, hand to his cheek, thumb rubbing soothingly there.

He saved these late night rendezvous for days he had a particularly hard day at work.

His usually slick backed hair was falling into his face, as he nodded. “Yeah, but I'm better now. Ready to get home?”

“Ready when you are, big boy.” You smiled deeply at him as his lips met yours.

It was a slow, needy kiss. His slightly chapped, wind bitten lips melted into yours as you pulled him closer. The tenderness a stark contrast to the way he fucked you moments before.

He pulled back, landing one more peck before raising up and letting himself slip from you. You winced, already missing the way he filled you.

He helped you into your panties muttering “don't want any of that going anywhere.” As you rolled your eyes. Thank God for birth control.

He took your hand and helped you from the truck, kissing your temple.

“See ya’ at home sweet thing.” Smacking your ass as you walked ahead of him to your car.

Yeah, Gator may have been a lot of things. A jerk, asshole, sometimes misogynist (which he was working on, thanks to you) but he only had eyes for you. His sweet girl.

And you were right about one thing. If anyone else dared to look at you the wrong way he'd kill’m. God help the poor soul who got on the wrong side of your man on a bad day.

#gator tillman #gator tillman smut #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x y/n #gator tillman fic #gator tillman fanfiction #gator tillman Fargo #fargo fx #fargo season 5 #fargo s5 #joe keery #joe keery smut #gator tillman x you

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mauswyx · 7 months ago

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old ties, new beginnings

Thomas Hewitt x f!reader: ch2 // ch3

TLDR: By chance, Thomas encounters someone from his past and gets to be treated like a normal guy for an afternoon–except he doesn't want the treatment to stop.

WORD COUNT: 2.8K

CW: slight nudity, mention of dead animal [not actively killed], mention of scarring

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The sun heated your face as your body floated at the water’s surface, bearing your naked form to the surrounding wilderness. Cicadas’ buzzing mixed with the sound of leaves rustling in the wind solidified just how alone you were. A flock of birds takes flight seeking sanctuary elsewhere, but you paid them no mind; the lake water lapping at your skin was bringing back memories from when you were young: memories of chasing fireflies in the evening, running around the campfire as mother hummed old songs you have long since forgotten, and swimming in this very lake with other children–making friendships that would only last through the night. Your lip curled as you remembered how the children...screamed? Why were the children screaming...?

You furrowed your eyebrows and tucked your legs beneath you to lightly tread the water. The heat must finally be getting to you. Shaking your head, you look around at your surroundings, hoping to bring back that nostalgic magic. The lake itself is massive, the portion you're in is only an offshoot of a much bigger body of water; the water’s edge is encircled by tall-dry grass, tall enough it had brushed against your elbow on your way down; the oak trees past the grassy-moat encase the path you took to get down here; next to the path sits your pile of clothes that you haphazardly threw off. You eye the small opening between the trees, as if trying to conjure up someone standing there. Only you know no one is coming, up the path sits an empty van waiting for you.

You had been on the road for some time, making your way across Texas was proving to take much longer than you expected. Though you didn’t mind, the long highways were just a means to escape an unsavory situation and to get back to your mother in San Antonio. It was in Lubbock that you decided to make a small detour on your journey, it would add a day but you simply longed to see your hometown. So when your tires popped, having driven over some loose nails, you cursed yourself. Town was a few hours walk away, but you’d surely die walking in this blistering-heat. Not to mention, you had heard about the town’s predicament and were willing to bet you’d have a better chance of finding an open store in the morning rather than the evening. It was settled. You’d just have to sleep in the busted van and get a headstart in the early morning when the weather was still livable. Which meant you had the rest of the afternoon to yourself…and knowing the area, you knew there was a very refreshing lake calling your name.

Another flock of birds cried out as they took flight, fleeing the area. This time you do look, following their shrinking figures against the cloudless-blue sky; you wonder what has startled them. But you don’t have to wonder for very long. The sudden sound of twigs snapping pulls your attention away from the birds. You whirl around and your stomach drops. There, in the middle of the previously deserted path, stands a large hulking man. A choked cry dies in your throat as your fight or flight refuses to kick in–you can only stare at him like a deer in headlights.

The tall grass prevents you from getting a good look at him [and you silently hope that means he can’t see you very clearly either] but from what you can see, you know that to say the man was huge was an understatement. His burly figure couldn’t possibly be hidden by the neighboring trees so you're surprised you hadn’t noticed his approach until now. His wide eyes, let you know he’s just as surprised to see you as you are him. The observation of his face leads you to notice that he seems to be wearing a mask-

A gasp escapes you, as your excitement pushes you slightly above the water. You raise a slicked arm to point at your intruder and he jumps back.

“I know you!” She suddenly exclaimed, eyes wide “Thomas Hewitt!”

Thomas ignored the sound of his name, too busy trying to calm his nerves. He hadn’t been expecting to run into cattle–not out here and not after having just finished a roundup. The last herd members were all accounted for, thrown in the basement by now. So why was this one out here and why was it nude? Usually if one was nude there was another one nearby. Thomas tried to wager where the other one could be hiding but couldn’t think properly as it continued to make noise.

“We went to school together!” it continued at his lack of response.

What was it talking about? Better yet, why was it trying to talk to him? The screaming should've started by now. He let out a hesitant groan, shifting his eyes to the far bankside and grasping nervously at the side of his pants–it continued to stare at him from the water eagerly. He didn’t like this; this one was acting odd and it was making him uncomfortable.

What had it said? School? He tried to rack his memory of when something like that had once mattered. That era of his life was a long time ago and he had since tried to forget about those years: the most prevalent memories had always been the other children rushing to avoid him or the older teens and townsfolk shoving him around calling him a freak. He spared a glance at the meat in front of him now, he couldn’t imagine someone like that would look excited to see him now.

“Though, I guess you might not remember me—[y/n][l/n], I moved half-way through second grade.” it said with a sigh, seemingly disappointed that he couldn’t place it in his memories.

[y/n]..? The name did sound familiar. [l/n]...oh. Oh. A wave of shame washed over Thomas, he did remember you.

He slowly nodded his head with a new-found remembrance and stepped out of the shadows of the trees. The sullen look on your face quickly morphed into an enthusiastic grin at the sight of his recognition. The lake rippled as you waded closer to meet him, before remembering your predicament. You quickly sank to the muddy bottom of the lake, being much closer to the shoreline now, the water only seemed to shield an inch or two under your collar bone. Your face heated as you tried to quickly cover yourself by hunching over and folding your arms across your chest. Your embarrassment went unnoticed by Thomas, who was still in disbelief.

To anyone else’s standards, the two of you had never been friends, no but you were also never cruel to him—and that was as close of a friend as Thomas could get. Your encounters were always brief: you’d smile shyly at him in passing; hand him assignments—unflinching if your hand touched his; and occasionally you’d leave him a portion of your lunch on his desk...when no one was looking. You never truly spoke to him, especially not in the presence of others, though he remembered one occasion where the two of you had been left completely alone together.

“What are you doing Thomas?”

With a start, Thomas looked over his shoulder at the girl standing a few feet behind him, just barely peeking out behind a tree. He hadn’t expected anyone to follow him into the shrubbery, so the sudden company made him on edge. Her voice had been just above a whisper and her eyes were focused on his hands. At the dead animal that lay torn underneath them.

His body tensed, readying himself for her to start screaming and calling him a monster like the others. But to his surprise, she only drew closer, peering over his shoulder.

Her eyes were transfixed on the neatly arranged bones that glistened under the specks of sunlight that filtered through the leaves overhead. His gaze was set on her though—waiting for her next move.

“. . .my momma says it’s good to honor the dead,” she muttered, turning to look him in the eyes, “I think you’re doin’ that just fine.”

That had been the first and last time you had spoken to him properly. Well, until now.

Thomas had pushed his way through the tall grass and now stood at the edge of the shoreline. You couldn’t help but smile at him despite your discomposure. You truly were pleased to see him, albeit a little surprised to find that such a scrawny kid had grown to be such a heavy man. He looked strong–well fed and taken care of and judging by his worn attire and toned arms you were willing to bet he was taking care of others as well. His eyes had stayed the same over the years, a stormy blue that reminded you of the sea. You had always liked his eyes.

Having gotten closer, he could confirm it really was you. Your position and his height allowed him to fully take you in. He had never really cared for looks in general–meat was meat after all and a pretty face wouldn’t change that–but he allowed himself to acknowledge that you had grown up to be a rather charming young woman. His eyes trailed from your wet hair that clung to your face, to your crinkled eyes that no longer seemed to meet his own–your bottom lip quivered slightly, it must be cold in the water he thought. He followed a water droplet down to your goosebump-covered shoulders, confirming his suspicion.

“Ahem. . .” You feign a cough, face having gone completely scarlet as you curl tighter around yourself.

He startled and shuffled backwards. He was so accustomed to looking at people like cattle he had forgotten some societal rules: like how men weren’t supposed to lay eyes on a woman’s nude form. He took another step backwards, ashamed to have disrespected you so openly; Mama would be so disappointed in him and surely you hated him now. His breath hitched as the thought and panic settled in–scrunching his eyes closed and hunching, he dug his fingers into the meat of his biceps with a whine–he didn’t want you of all people to hate him.

“Ah! It’s alright! It’s ok, Thomas!” The panic in your own voice distracted him, he opened his eyes to look at your worried expression.The sight of it released the tension in his fingers, even after all this time you were still being kind to him. He had disrespected you and yet you still worried for him. A sudden tightness overtook his chest.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, it’s my own fault for thinking this was a good idea in the first place.” you continued, letting out a breathy laugh.

“Actually, could you do me a favor, Thomas?” he straightened and nodded, eager to make up for his offense, “could you bring me my clothes, please?” You gestured past his shoulder with a nod of your head and he followed your movement, peering through the swaying blades of grass for the clothes in question. His eyes landed on them sitting on a rock just a little ways in front of the old beaten down path. At the sight of them, he began to feverishly shake his head as if you had just asked him to cloth you himself; on top of the pile sat your undergarments–now that he saw you for what you were, a respectable woman, he couldn’t possibly do such a thing like touch your private garments. The irony of him staring down on you naked escaped him.

“Wh- Thomas!” You were laughing now, seeing his mortified expression “I can’t just keep talkin’ to you like this!” the water splashed around from you rocking around barely being able to keep yourself upright and your sides hurt from laughing; you let out a snort which only made you laugh harder. Getting stranded, naked, in front of your former classmate had definitely been last on your list of possible things to ever occur.

Thomas couldn’t figure out what you found to be so funny, but he was glad you were enjoying yourself. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had laughed around him so genuinely and not at his dispense…he wasn’t sure it had ever happened before. Giving the pile of clothes another side eye, he snorted out a huff of air through his masked-nose. He was going to do right by you and get you out of that water with as much dignity as possible.

Your laughing fit had died down but you were still gasping for air and wiping a tear from your eye when water splashed up onto your face and the sun disappeared. Thomas stood over you, knee-deep in the lake; he had removed his button down, and was now extending it to you in a crumpled heap.

“Oh! Th-thank you, Thomas!” You gave him a small smile, extending your arm out to take his offering. Once it was in your grasp, he gave a grunt of acknowledgement and marched away–he kept his attention on the surrounding trees and away from you when he got back to shore.

You watched him for a moment, having removed his outer layer exposed his off-white sweat stained t-shirt that hugged his body. The short sleeves of the shirt exposed old scars that varied in severity. The sight of them made your heart ache. Poor Tommy. You always knew how poorly the others had treated him and you hated yourself for not doing more; no one deserved to be treated that way, especially not Thomas. You sighed, unfolding the crumpled shirt in your hands wrapping it around you and fitting your arms into the baggy sleeves, making to start buttoning up the frayed buttons–your fingers faltered as your eyes shifted back to Thomas. He had crossed his arms in front of him in his wait for you to finish, causing his tense shoulder and back muscles to strain against his shirt. Your eyes raked over the muscles that only years of hard labor could produce. You were certain the flush on your face could be seen from a mile away; grateful he couldn’t see you, you forced your attention back onto the buttons.

The sound of splashing water alerted Thomas that you were now decent. He looked over at you only to find that seeing your clothed form was so much worse than just seeing you nude.

You had chosen to leave the buttons closest to the collar unbuttoned, giving him a clear view of your sternum while the hem of his shirt swayed at the middle of your plush thighs. The damp fabric clung snuggly against your wet skin–leaving little to the imagination. Thomas felt terrible. How could his working shirt feel so improper? It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen scantily clad women before: they showed up a dime a dozen in the sweltering heat and Hoyt kept magazines of women bearing themselves to the world but he had never paid any of them any actual attention. He had a job to do and even if he didn’t, he was certain that none of those women would revel at the thought of being touched by him. He resigned himself to knowing that he would never know the touch of a willing partner and had grown indifferent to the sight of a naked woman, but this felt different–you were different. He must have looked visibly distressed because you gave him a quizzical look before glancing down.

“Oh that’s alright nothing a lil sun won’t fix,” you gently pulled the sticking fabric away from you, “ ‘sides nothing you haven’t seen before right?” you winked at him and let out a giggle when he leaned away from you, his face flushing a deep red at your teasing.

“Come on, your pants are wet too y’know, let’s go dry off over there.” you smiled up at him before making your way to a clearing a few meters down the bank; the grass was flattened from sleeping deer, you presumed, and it looked like a nice place to sit and overlook the lake.

Thomas watched as you waded through the tall grass but his own legs seemed unmoving. Reconnecting with you had been so nice–too nice, it had made Thomas shirk his responsibilities to his family. His heart sank, he knew that sooner or later this was going to have to come to an end and you would no longer look at him with such kind eyes. You had stopped walking and were waving him over, trying to get him to follow. He sighed, turning his attention to the position of the sun in the sky.

It wasn't time for supper yet, so it couldn’t hurt to keep pretending a little while longer.

#huhhh please go easy on me i am not used to writing #thomas hewitt #slasher x reader #my writing #slashers #thomas hewitt x reader #leatherface x reader #this was supposed to be a one shot but this was only a third of the stuff i wrote

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chilling-seavey · 8 months ago

Text

Live Fast, Drive Fast (ln4)

↳ A/N To the anon who requested this song for my 1.5k celebration: thank you for submitting!! I decided to go with 777 since I've never heard it before (and I actually really like it so thanks for the accidental song rec too hehe)

↳ Inspired By: '777' by Joji

↳ Pairings: Lando Norris x Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 447

↳ Warnings: Driving under the influence, toxic relationship, dark undertones

“Are you out of your mind?”

The rev of the engine echoed through the darkness that surrounded you, orange headlights tunneling the pitch-black road ahead of you. The force of the acceleration pressed your body back against the leather seats, your gaze locked on the vast expanse of night that made up the empty highway you drove down at some ungodly hour. As if desperate for some control, your hand reached across the front seat to grasp onto the sleeve of his jacket, knuckles turning white in the neon glow of the dashboard.

“Lando!” you said loudly to be heard over the rumble of the engine.

He didn’t look at you, narrowed gaze focused straight through the windshield. He held an emotion in his eyes you couldn’t quite place - unfamiliar - shadowed under the fabric of his hood. His hands tightened on the steering wheel, jaw clenching, eyebrows flickering into a momentary frown without tearing his eyes away from the dizzy highway lanes.

The little arrow on the dashboard inched up higher and higher; surpassing each glowing number tick by tick, second by second.

130, 140, 150, 160…

Through the empty lanes, he swerved in meticulous controlled curves as if he sadistically enjoyed the way your hand tightened on his jacket with every abrupt motion. Any other day, you would have trusted his skill and his control. Tonight, your mind lingered on the memory of the drinks he consumed and the angry words you exchanged under the dancing party lights of the club.

“I want to go home!” you insisted, nearly shouting, torn between watching the road or wanting to screw your eyes shut in paralyzing fear.

“So you can leave me?” Lando snapped back, his first sentence since you had left the club. Maliciousness dripped from his tone.

“There’s nothing to leave!” you shouted, “You’re not my boyfriend! You have made that very clear!”

“I told you I don’t do strings.” his words were thick and slurred.

“This isn’t sustainable!” you replied. The force of his swerving threw your shoulder towards the door. Your other hand flew to grab the handle above you, silently pleading for a lifeline. “We are not sustainable like this!”

Instead of an answer, Lando pressed his foot down harder onto the accelerator. The engine growled fiercely through the pitch-black night.

170, 180, 190, 200…

The rear wheels skidded slightly and he had to really pull at the wheel to catch the car before it was sent spinning into the ditch.

Your scream nearly echoed through the car, “You’re going to kill us, Lando!”

He laughed, almost menacingly, his pitchy voice churning your stomach as he purred, “I just wanna go fast, baby.”

"Blame it on me, you can blame it on me, Never turn back when I'm goin' full speed. Live fast, drive fast like two hundred on the dashboard. It’s my way, my way, even if it is a crash course"

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adragonsfriend · 3 months ago

Text

“Satine only achieved like two decades of widely enjoyed peace on mandalore before she was killed so really she achieved nothing”

“The Republic fell after 1000 years of widespread peace so what was even the point in the first place”

“The Sith manage to return every time they’re defeated. why do the Jedi bother causing so much trouble by fighting them”

Tell me have you ever been outside?

Go watch a spider hunt a fly. See leaves fall and winter sweep across the land. The diamond bracelet of car headlights on the highway in the crowded night. Count sheep in the fields. The mountains which rose with the plates of the earth and now roll away with the wind and rain, eroding. Fungus growing on a fallen tree. Meow at your house cat. The second moon. Talk to your neighbor. The birds which only come during winter. And step on a yellow jacket nest, maybe it’ll give you some perspective idk.

#star wars #nature #sith #satine kryze #jedi

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 1 month ago

Text

DRIVE- J. WASHINGTON

pairing: bestfriend! josh x fem!reader (friends to lovers)

the badlands masterlist: here

summary: after breaking up with your boyfriend, you seek the comfort of your best friend josh, needing to escape with him on a night drive.

word count: 2k

warning: implied smut, pet names, making out, mentions of drugs, mentions of verbal abuse/ toxic relationship- mainly fluff

my neck, the feeling of your soft lips/ illuminated in the light, bouncing off the exit signs i missed / all we do is drive/ all we do is think about the feelings that we hide- drive, halsey

you listened to the car beep at you as you let the key dangle in the ignition. it was taunting you, it’s steady, ruthless beeps piercing your headache.

your eyes were puffy from crying, and you wiped away the steady, sticky tears from your eyes. the car reved to life- and you half heartedly tossed your seatbelt on before shifting the gear into drive and speeding off so quickly, the tires squealed on the driveway.

you let the wind tangle your hair as you sped down the empty highway, leaving your now ex boyfriend in the dust.

he should’ve been your ex for a while now- but tonight you had bit the bullet. he was cruel. he was cruel, and he was mean and he taunted and tormented you. constantly threatening to cheat on you, break up with you if you did so much as forget to hold the door open for him and make his bed.

it was exhausting.

he constantly accused you of cheating on him with your friend, josh. it left a bitter taste on your tongue, one that tasted of poison. you had to leave him behind. your friends, including josh- had been telling you for months.

he had his talons dug into your shoulders, nails piercing the skin. you had waited until blood had dried over and crusted before you got the guts to leave him behind.

you shook the feeling of his icy cold grip away the further you drove. all you could see was the trees long branches engulfing the sky as you weaved through the forest, turning down gravel back roads. you knew exactly where you wanted to go.

you kept driving, and kept the feelings you hid deep inside.

------------------

he was outside when you pulled into his driveway. a joint in his mouth, about to be lit as he dug in his pocket for a lighter. the windows were dark, nothing but the porch light on.

his parents and sisters were asleep, as most people were. it was almost one in the morning. his eyes flickered up as the headlights illuminated his tall frame, eyebrows flickering in confusion.

you put the car in park, wasting no time to step out. there was nothing but you and him, and the sound of the trees leaves rustling in the wind.

at the sight of your dishevelled figure, the joint dropped out of his mouth, and he took large, heavy strides towards your shaking frame. “Y/N?! what are you doing here?”

you couldn’t help but start to cry again, mascara staining your cheeks as the tears continued to flow. he engulfed you in a hug, your head flush against his flannel chest, his arms and warmth shielding you from the chill air.

“shh, shh baby, baby what’s wrong? what happened?” he asked softly, hand coming up to stroke your hair. you curled fists into his shirt, hiccuping.

“c-carter… i broke up with him.” your lip quivered, and he held you tighter.

“oh baby i’m so sorry. fuck that must have been so difficult. did he hurt you?! are you okay?”

you shook your head. “h-he didn’t hurt me but… but he was really mean. and it was just difficult to do, even if it was for the better.” you confessed, pulling apart to look up at him. nothing but sympathy lingered on his face as he stroked your cheek, and you leaned into his palm.

“that fucking dick. i can’t even imagine honey… that must have been so hard. but it’s over now, okay? he can’t hurt you. he can’t get you anymore, im here with you. shh, let it out-“ he cooed as you started to cry again.

“can you drive with me?” you asked, knowing the only thing that would help you was him. and an escape from this. the sense of driving away from the direction of carters house.

“of course baby, but i don’t think you should be driving in this state. can i drive? is that okay?” he asked softly.

he was so gentle with you it made you want to melt. josh was such a sweetheart, he could be a real tease when he wanted to- but when he knew things were serious- or something was wrong, he sobered right up. he always was looking out for you, and you wished you would’ve listened to him sooner about carter.

“y-yeah that’s okay, my keys are still in the ignition.”

he guided you over to the passenger side, opening the door for you without hesitation, as he always did. a hand on your back, rubbing small, soothing circles guided you into the seat, and you buckled your seatbelt as he hopped in the seat you were in no more then three minutes prior.

you couldn’t help but giggle, snot sounding from crying as he looked at you in disbelief, pushing the seat all the way back. “i genuinely cannot believe how much taller i am then you.”

“i can. you’re taller then everyone.” you snorted, rolling your eyes.

he smiled, arm wrapping around your headrest as he turned his head to reverse. you couldn’t help but stare at him, his sharp jaw tense in concentration as he focused on the road.

he was so beautiful. you had always thought this, and deep down you knew you had always had a crush on him. your friend. how deeply messed up was that?

but it was almost like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders when you broke up with carter.

he was right, and he wasn’t.

you had never cheated on him with anyone, including josh- that he was wrong about. but you did have feelings for him. you just never acted on them. but now, what did you have to loose? his friendship maybe, if he didn’t want you back.

you couldn’t help but allowing the silent tears to keep rolling. he kept looking over at you silently, eyes flickering between you and the open road. you didnt want to talk about it- and you were thankful he understood and didn’t push anything.

“we need to go on a holiday sometime.” you stated, looking out the window.

“what like a roman holiday?”

you snorted. “sure. i was thinking just a trip to get away for a while.”

“well, we could go up to the lodge in the winter. we have a hot tub and a spa, if you wanted to check it out and relax for a bit.”

your eyes widened, and you whipped over to fully face him. “you have a hot tub?! and you never thought to mention this before?!”

“well i didn’t want anyone to know. it’s a little secret from the rest of them, so they don’t abuse the system.” he chuckled.

“well why tell me then?”

“cause you’re special. i like you more baby. maybe we could go alone sometime and check it out, without those fools following us like strays.” he winked, biting his lip as he focused on you (more then the road which was slightly concerning but).

you felt your cheeks heat, and the tears dry and become sticky on your cheeks. you were done with carter for tonight. no more thinking of him. no more wasting tears on him. tonight it was just you and josh, and the open road. no responsibilities right now.

“i’d like that josh. i’m honoured you think i’m special.” you smiled. you turned your head to the dark trees, thinking of josh. and how close you were to him.

and how warm it was suddenly, how you felt the need to take off your sweater, and also kiss him. and how sudden these feelings rushed at you.

“hey, breathe. you good?” he asked as you pressed your forehead against the window.

“m’good. do you wanna pull over somewhere out of the way?” you asked meekly. he nodded, a look of concern on his face as he scanned the road for a side patch, away from the traffic. even though you had been the only car on the road for miles.

he pulled off to the side, turning the keys until the headlights went out. it was just the two of you, and the silence, under the stars. you let out a breath.

“i’m sorry about all this. it was all so sudden and i-“

“no it wasn’t.” he said, holding out his open palm, a hand for you to take. you weaved your fingers in his, and he squeezed.

“it was always going to happen. there was no way it would last Y/N. i couldn’t bare it if it did.”

your eyes widened, looking over to meet his soft gaze. a soft smile was on his lips, that you could see from the moonlight poking through the tree branches. it made a hazy glow around his figure, like he was some guardian angel, that had swooped down to save you from this anguish and torment.

his other hand slipped over to brush your cheek, cusping it. you bit your lip in hesitation. god you wanted to kiss him. why did you want to kiss him so badly?

you always wanted to, and now he was just here. sitting like he was begging for it. like he wanted you just the same. maybe that was your frazzled, lovesick brain begging you to end the sadness that engulfed you. but you didn’t care.

“i should’ve never been with him, josh. i was stupid. there’s been someone else this entire time, right in front of my face, and i’ve just been to blind to acknowledge it.” you confessed, tongue darting out to wet your lower lip, the shimmering gloss tasting like cherries.

“oh yeah? and whose that?” he asked, teasing you. his eyes bore into yours, flames sparking and lighting you up from the inside. you were joan of arc. he was the flame.

“who do you think?” you breathed, leaning closer to him. your body inched closer until your breathes were mingling, noses about to brush.

yet he made no move to kiss you, as if he was scared to hurt you.

“would it really kill you if we kissed?” you asked softly, almost scared he didn’t feel the same.

your fears were pushed to the side as his lips met yours, the wind knocked out of you from how eager he was, how desperate he felt above you, tongue darting out to intermingle with yours.

you moaned, spurring him on further. he held you like you were fine china in his hands, scared to break you- but at the same time, eager to fill your cracks with kinsugi if you cracked.

you were guided across the arm rest, finding yourself straddling his lap.

“god you’re so beautiful i can’t stand it. you drive me so crazy and you don’t even know it baby.” he groaned into your skin as he broke the kiss, peppering gentle kisses and licks to your neck.

you moaned, grinding your hips down on his jeans, making his head loll back.

“baby, we can’t. we can’t do that tonight.”

your heart sank. “did i do something wrong?” you whispered, shame burning on your cheeks. his eyes widened, and he shook his head frantically.

“no, no baby of course not. i just- i can’t do that to you tonight. not in your state, not after what you’ve been through. it’s too much tonight, it doesn’t feel right.” he reassured you gently.

you nodded slowly, understanding where he was coming from. you would feel the same way if the roles were reversed.

“in sorry if i was too forward, i didn’t mean to.”

“hey, hey you weren’t okay? i want you so bad, fuck Y/N it hurts. i’ve wanted you for so long. but i’ve been so patient, what’s a little more waiting? and do you really wanna do it here? in this small ass car?” he teased, making you laugh. you folded into his arms, letting him hold you, squeezing you.

“it’s not small. you’re just a giant.” you grumbled, making him chuckle. “it’s too small for the things i wanna do to you.” he said, planting a kiss to the side of your head. your cheeks grew hot, and you dug your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his soothing cologne.

it always comforted you. “you’re silly.” you commented.

“no, i’m just truthful baby.”

#joshua washington #until dawn josh #josh washington #josh washington smut #josh and sam #josh until dawn #until dawn #until dawn fanfics #josh washington x you #josh washington imagines #josh washington x reader #until dawn remaster #until dawn remake #until dawn 2 #rami malek x reader #rami malek

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binsito · 1 year ago

Text

subaru

pairing: han jisung x fem reader

genre: enemies to lovers

word count: 5.4k

rating: mature, includes: swearing, jisung is kind of an asshole to reader at first, mentions of smoking and alcohol consumption, mentions of death but in an exaggerated way due to being upset over a situation (no one actually dies, just used as a hyperbole here and there), an altercation where someone gets slapped on the face, slight mentions of reckless driving (they like to street race n shit!), words such as "stupid", "idiot", "dumbass", "bitch" etc are used, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), mentions of cum play, pet names such as "baby" are used. i think thats it??

disclaimer: i am not too involved in the car community although i do love cars ashsh so if i got anything inaccurate i apologize but it's just a silly lil fic okie!!!!!! also not entirely proof read lmfao

subaru wrx with a clean build.

it was baby pink, low to the ground with bright blue led headlights. the color combination was absolutely sick.

it was fucking gorgeous and jisung couldn't help but be jealous.

it was two in the morning and he had decided that he wanted to grab some mcdonalds, his sleep schedule was shit and all he ever did was watch movies, smoke, eat-

typical boy shit.

but aside from all of that, han jisung had an extreme infatuation with cars, more specifically street racing cars.

none of that corny fast and the furious shit, he was seriously into car modifications and speeding whenever he was sure there wasn't a cop around to catch him (even if there was one, he'd probably floor it to get out of the mess like an idiot, catch-me-if-you-can mentality). he had built his old honda civic up from scratch and it had been pretty loyal to him thus far. that was his baby, his girl, he loved his car more than anything and it was his pride and joy.

however that subaru was definitely one of his dream cars. something he hoped to get his hands on one day when his civic decided it was time to bite the dust.

he was sure he had seen all the street racing cars in his city, he had gone to plenty of car meets to know.. but this subaru was new and he had never seen it before. he definitely would've known if someone in his car community got a new vehicle..

you two were the only cars on the highway right now, the city was mostly dead - perfect time to get some action in.

he drove closely to the car, right next to it, lowering his passenger window to look over at the driver.

he couldn't see shit through the tint, trying to get their attention by revving his engine at them but they seemed to pay no mind

who was this guy? why was he going to have such a badass car and not use it to its fullest potential? why even bother getting a racing car if you weren't going to put your foot to the pedal?

was this guy just being an asshole? jisung clearly was trying to race, trying to get their attention..

the least they could do was tell him no?

whatever.. jisung thought, pulling up his window before speeding off, smoke obnoxiously coming out of his exhaust as he drove.

that weekend, jisung had gone to a car meet, it was something he participated in once a month, it gave him something exciting to look forward to.

looking at all the cool modifications his friends have invested in for their cars - whether they got a fresh wrap, new lights, whatever it was, he was excited to see it.

he pulled up in his car, parking in reverse next to the other vehicles in the lot.

once he stepped out, everyone greeted him and they caught up, talking about whatever came to mind

"i saw this fucking baby pink subaru wrx.. none of you got a new car and didn't tell me right? you know how fucking much i love those damn cars!" he whines

"uh no actually.. did you race it?" "no the guy must've had a stick up his ass because he didn't even acknowledge me.." "well i'm sure you'll see them around again, it'll be hard to miss a baby pink wrx, trust me" his friend giggles.

jisung knew he was right, how many pink subarus could there possibly be in this town? (lucky for him, just one)

"hey jisung! there's your car!" his friends giggle when they catch sight of the pink subaru pulling up to the meet. the last thing he expected was to see them again so soon, here of all places.

"holy shit" he groans, he was dying to see who the asshole behind the wheel was, but they never seemed to get down, and those blasted tints might as well have been illegal because he could barely make out the shape of a person in there.

instead they rev their engine, jisung's friend urging him to get into his car and race them. so now this asshole wants to race, huh? he thought as he got into his car, pulling up next to the subaru as they drove out into the street. both getting their cars ready and as soon as the lights turned green, they were off. the area they were racing in didn't have many stoplights and was normally empty at this time of night. jisung knew this road like the back of his palm, so he felt like he had the advantage.

he was not about to lose to this person, no way in hell. he had so much faith in his old civic, it had never failed him before, so it better not fail him now.

(but the subaru was sooo kicking his ass and it was making his blood boil.)

they raced in a loop back to the lot where the other cars were at, his friends waiting with anticipation, watching as the subaru arrived first, jisung was furious.

how could he lose to this guy? his ego took a huge hit.

to make matters worse, the driver finally rolled down their window

"i hate racing guys that have those dumb anime stickers on their car.." you smirked.

jisung gritted his teeth.

a girl? a car girl?

(those were his dream girls, but how dare she insult his anime stickers..)

"better luck next time buddy.."

oh he could not stand you.. (but that was just his fragility speaking.)

his friends held back their giggles as they rushed over to the cars, they crowded over you, checking out the wheels on your car and complimenting them.

jisung wanted to explode, who even were you anyways? your car wasn't even that cool or that fast (he was lying to himself).

(he was soo fucking jealous)

unfortunately for jisung, that wasn't the last time he saw you.

you also began attending the car meets once a month and were quickly becoming acquainted with his friends.

great.

they had learned that you had moved to this city for a job and were excited to find another group of car enthusiasts. you were scared that maybe you wouldn't find a group but you were proven wrong.

everyone got along well with you except.. han jisung of course!

his friends had told him to grow up and get over it but he just couldn't seem to let it go, once he had a bad first impression of someone, there was no changing his mind.

it was childish, but that was han jisung for you.

he hated how you were becoming a part of his friend group, how his friends were inviting you over to their garage on saturdays to maintenance your cars together.

and he couldn't be more obvious with his hate. he made it his job to make it very clear to you that you were not welcome here.

"hey jisung can you pass me that-"

his foot coming to kick the wrench in your general direction while you worked underneath your car.

"dude piss off. seriously." his friend chan spoke up. he was the one trying the hardest to keep things neutral between everyone.

you tried not to let it bother you, although you were not stupid and knew jisung didn't like you one bit.

it made you a little upset the way he treated you.

you felt like you had to apologize. maybe the whole anime sticker thing really hurt his feeling? you didn't mean to hurt him but maybe you took it too far before you even got to know him?

you didn't want things to be like this if you were going to keep hanging around him. you'd find the time to apologize one of these days for sure.

see, han jisung was charming when you weren't around or when he thought you weren't looking.

he was actually a pretty funny guy.

(you loved funny guys, had a thing for them even..)

so you tried to incorporate humor when you tried talking to him but he always just looked at you blankly or let the joke go over his head purposely.

you were starting to feel like you'd never be able to apologize to him. and if you did, you were sure he wouldn't even accept it. this was so much harder than you anticipated, why couldn't he just let you make things right?

the only time han jisung ever talked about you without a front was when he was drinking with chan in the garage. they kept a fridge in there stocked with water and snacks and jisung was thrilled to see his favorite kind of beer in there one day. it seemed that drinking made jisung so much more open, like it made him just spill whatever was on his mind easily. it could sometimes put him in sticky situations but it also ratted his true feelings out. chan figured he could get some info out of him.

"your civic is getting old, dude.." chan teased him, taking a sip out of his beer can.

jisung just hiccuped and laughed.

"don't call my baby that.. she's all i got.." he smiled stupidly

"i think she's keeping the ladies away from you"

jisung waved him off and shook his head "nuh uh.. she's a babe magnet trust me.."

"what babe is she exactly pulling? cops handing you speeding tickets don't count" chan laughs

"that subaru bitch.. fuck if she wasn't so annoying.. i think i'd fucking kiss her.."

"she's got a name you know? she's only annoying to you 'cause you want to hate her." "no, she's annoying.. hot but annoying. like cool.. you like cars too, whateverrr.." he slurs

"what if you guys talked it out?"

"would rather die, channie my boy.. besides what if it get out of hand? what if she's angry hot or somethin'?.. no thanks.." he was holding on to one of the rolling carts in the garage only to almost fall over.

"you are the most stubborn person i know, han jisung." he shook his head

chan knew jisung had a tiny crush on you, there was no doubt about it. but he knew his best friend well to know he would never admit to it. god he was so dumb sometimes.

before you were in the picture, he would always talk about wanting a girlfriend who liked cars. how they could modify their cars together, go to meets hand in hand in their obnoxiously fast and loud cars..

(han jisung loved car girls.. had a thing for them even..)

but chan just kept this information to himself, didn't out jisung's crush to you. he wasn't that kind of friend. if it was meant to happen, he'd let it unfold.

things remained virtually the same after that conversation with chan, most times jisung couldn't remember anything he said after he drank so he wasn't even aware he basically told chan he liked you.

on this particular saturday, chan wasn't in the garage.

normally jisung wouldn't care, he knew where everything was and he could just start working on his car on his own.

but you were there.

you were there and it was pissing jisung off.

"what are you doing here?"

"oh.. i thought channie was gonna be here and i came so we could rotate my tires-"

"ew.. don't call him that.. channie? gross."

"well you call him that so what's the problem?" "i'm his friend. i'm not trying to fuck him."

to say you were offended was an understatement. maybe you shouldn't even waste your breath apologizing to him, seemed whatever this is was irreparable.

"you're a real piece of shit you know that? i'm not trying to fuck chan, he's my friend too."

"yeah well i've known him for ages so.. and i just know when a girl is just trying to fuck him, like it's so obvious.. could you be anymore obvious? jeez. like why are you even coming in here with those slutty shorts and-"

oh god.

you knew you shouldn't have done that but he had it coming.

your hand stinging after the impact.

shit, this was bad.

you slapped han jisung straight across the face.

"f-fuck jisung- i-i-"

he was angry. face red.

you swore you could see smoke coming out of him.

"get out of here. NOW." he said angrily between gritted teeth.

you didn't want to see where this would escalate so you quickly ran out, tears stinging at your eyes.

shit. you felt like you just ruined everything.

chan would be mad right? you hit his best friend across the face.. should you call him? you didn't want to burden him. ever since you started hanging out with them, all you've ever done was cause problems to arise. it was hard not to agitate han jisung when you all were together. things must've been fine before you joined the scene..

you decided it was best to just remove yourself from them and let them be.

after two weeks of not seeing you or hearing from you, chan knew something was up so he decided to confront jisung. he had invited him over to play video games and jisung showed up within the hour of being asked.

chan didn't feel like beating around the bush, this was getting out of hand and he needed to figure out how to make peace.

after two rounds of call of duty, chan looked over at jisung.

"mind telling me what happened that day i wasn't in at the garage?"

"what are you talking about?"

"don't play dumb ji.. come on. we both know better than that. it's been two weeks and i haven't heard or seen of y/n. i texted her and at first she was giving me excuses to not show up at meets or come over on saturdays but now she's straight up ghosting me."

"maybe she got tired of being annoying-"

"han jisung, get a fucking grip dude. she is NOT annoying. you're being a fucking asshole. you know she's been trying to apologize to you right? are you that stupid? you think she's just trying to crack jokes and bring us beer because she wants to be annoying?"

"no she's doing that because she's trying to fuc-"

"holy shit, you are a lost cause. i didnt buy the beer and it was never for me okay? she brought it for you because i told her you liked that kind and they don't sell it in any of the shops here, only that one liquor place twenty minutes from here. and i lied to her, i told her i'd be there saturday and i wasn't just so maybe, you'd be a nice guy for once and help her rotate her tires. clearly you didn't fucking do that."

"maybe i would've if she didn't fucking slap me."

"she slapped you? well you know what, maybe you fucking deserved it? if i were her i'd do a little bit more than just a little slap. i'd rock your fucking shit for being so fucking insufferable. you're my best friend but right now, you are being the most goddamn pathetic person ever. all because she kicked your ass in a race? because you like her car? because she poked a little fun at you that day?"

jisung started to get up, dropping the controller on the couch and walking towards the door, he knew chan was right but he was too prideful to admit it. chan didn't bother stopping him, he knew he had to let him reflect on everything. the only way jisung would ever listen was if he talked hard to him, it was the only way for his thick skull to understand.

jisung was embarrassed.

his ego getting the best of him.

he knew it was too late to backtrack everything he's said and done.

he fucked up and these were the consequences.

and karma had a way with things because as he was on his way home, his car finally gave out in the middle of the highway. thankfully nothing happened and he was able to make it to the side of the road quickly but he was so upset.

he couldn't help but cry as he sat on the hood of his car. he didn't even know who to call for help. he just sat there contemplating what to do while tears blurred his vision.

he wanted to kick and scream and throw himself in the middle of traffic but before he took a leap in front of a semi, he saw that godforsaken baby pink wrx.

he figured you would drive by him and not give a shit, maybe even roll down your window to laugh and point at him but you pulled up behind his car and got out.

maybe he had died before he made it to the side of the road and he was now entering his personal hell.

"han jisung? are you okay?"

he didn't answer you, instead he looked down at his feet.

"i'm trying to help. you're lucky i was on my way home and i saw you." you said, walking towards him

"hey, i'm talking to you, idiot. want me to just leave you and your stupid car here?" you shouted, hoping to get him to snap out of it.

he shook his head and sniffled

"just..get in my car okay? i'll call a tow truck." you sighed

he didn't question you, he just walked over and got in the passenger seat. jisung wasn't surprised that the interior was sleek, black leather with pink accents and led lights. you got in contact with a towing company, thankfully they came fairly quickly and took care of jisung's car.

you got back inside your car and started your engine before looking over at him.

"nothing happened right? you're fine?" "she just gave out on me.. i'm fine.." he mumbled.

you nodded and asked him to put in his address.

after that it just went quiet.

it felt tense but not like before. like there were things you both wanted to say but decided not to.

after fifteen minutes on the road, you pulled up to his apartment.

he didn't move to get out and you didn't urge him to.

"i'm sorry about your car jisung.. a-and i-i'm also so fucking sorry that i hit you.." you spoke up, breaking the silence.

"no.. it's cool.. i deserved it. thank you for stopping for me. that's really nice of you.. even after i was such a dick."

you took a deep breath and looked down at your lap

"i've been trying to make things right between us.. i know maybe what i said about your car that first time we met might've been rude but i didn't mean it like that.. friendly competition you know? but maybe i went too far.. i'm sorry.."

"no seriously.. it's fine. i'm the one that was being an asshole.. i'm the one who's sorry okay? your car is super sick and you're actually a really cool girl.. i just guess i got intimidated by you. that sounds really fucking lame doesn't it?"

you laugh and nod at him "super lame.."

he just smiled softly and let out a chuckle.

"i guess.. truce then? you owe me anyways for the ride home.." you held out a pinky for him, he wrapped his own around yours without hesitating

"truce.

oh and.. thanks for the beer."

you blushed softly, hoping he wouldn't notice.

(he definitely did. he thought it was cute.)

"oh yeah.. it was nothing. i just had a box in my house and i thought you guys would enjoy it more than i would."

(and he knew that was a lie too. that you had gone out of your way to buy a pack and didn't just have it lying around your house.)

"right right.. well thanks..

um listen there's a meet coming up.. you haven't really been around lately so.. are you gonna come? chan's been worried about you and i know it's my fault you've been m.i.a.."

"mm.. i dunno.. i feel kinda weird just showing up after ghosting him.." you said softly.

"i'll take care of that okay?"

"how do you plan on showing up if you don't have a car?" you teased

"well i could ask chan- no no.. he'd ask me what happened.. he's so nosey, dammit.." "i'll pick you up han jisung.. don't sweat it." you laughed and in turn it made him laugh.

the next order of business was him figuring out his feelings for you now that he had apologized and formed a truce with you.

he hoped he didn't fuck things up too badly. hoped that maybe he'd finally grow a pair of balls and face the fact that he liked you.

jisung knew it was gonna be crazy for him to show up the car meet with you.

in your car.

he knew chan was going to question and pull him aside and bombard him with a thorough interrogation.

but he tries not to think about it, not while he's shaking with nerves as he watches you pull up to his apartment, honking at him to alert him of your arrival but your loud ass exhaust pipes gave you away the second you entered his neighborhood.

he walks up to your door, hearing you click it open for him to get in.

and god, did you always dress this pretty to go to meets or is today a special occasion? cute blouse with a pleated skirt and converse to tie it all together.

so, so pretty..

"welcome to the barbie subie" you joked which earned you a smile from him

he buckled up and you were off, jisung enjoying the way you shifted gears and drove your car so flawlessly.

part of him didn't even want to go to the meet anymore.

all of him wanted to just pull over somewhere, lean back in his chair and talk to you for hours.

"han jisung is awfully quiet.." you giggled

but he didn't find it amusing, instead he shrugged.

"oh come on.. i thought we were doing good. what's wrong now?"

"you really wanna go to this meet?" "i mean.. you're kinda the one who invited me remember?"

"well yeah but.. i don't know if i wanna go anymore y'know?" "are you embarrassed of being seen with me or something? jeez man you got some serious ego issues to deal with-" "no no! it's just i dunno.. i think i just.. fuck.. don't laugh okay? don't you dare fucking laugh.."

you shook your head and bit your lip in hopes of hiding the smile creeping up on you

"i just kinda wanna hang out? like.. just with you.. and without chan asking a million questions. just us two alone.." "so like a date is what you're saying?"

"what! fuck no!"

you frowned but only to mess with him.

"w-well shit yes okay! but like you didn't have to say that yeah? admitting it makes me feel funny.."

"it's okay jisung. it's growth and you're lucky i think you're cute so i'm taking the offer."

jisung feels like he could jump out of your car from how crazy he's feeling right now. and he's so mad at himself for being such a dumbass before because maybe he could've been going on dates with you so much sooner.

he could melt into a puddle right in your seat.

especially when you tell him you've found this huge empty lot by a construction site that you two could go make donuts.

even more so when you tell him he can drive your car.

and jisung feels like he's in some insane car wet dream of his because there's no actual way he's in your car, driving, you at his side laughing hysterically while your car spins in circles, tires screeching as it leaves dark circular skid marks.

"j-jisung! jisung holy shit!" you laugh as you hang on tightly "i'm gonna hurl!"

he stops the car and his sides hurt from laughing. cheeks sore from the huge smile he had been wearing. and when he looks at you, he feels like such an idiot because he really wants to kiss you and he regrets wasting so much time hating you for no good reason.

and you feel the same desire.

you want to kiss his stupid, stupid face.

want him to finally admit he fucking likes you.

thank god you're both finally on the same page. both leaning in at the same time and bumping into each other with a laugh.

"you first.. please.." you whisper, he cups your face and leans in to capture your lips. fluttering his eyes closed as he gets to feel your soft mouth on his. letting out a pleased sigh as he deepens the kiss.

kissing someone had never felt this good before.

when you pull away, he almost whines, almost begs you to come back. he watches as you lick your lips, almost as if collecting whatever remnants of him were left on yours.

(he'd be lying if he said he didn't think it was hot.)

and he looks at you confused when you get up and crawl into the back seat of your car, gesturing him to come join you. basically knocking over himself as he rushes to get back there.

was jisung about to fuck his dream girl in his dream car? if you told him this a few weeks ago, he'd laugh in your face.

"by the way stupid.. i was trying to fuck you not chan.." you laugh

his face is so fucking red and his cock is so unbearably hard, he almost felt humiliated.

"why didn't you say something then?"

"cause you'd never even give me a chance to.. besides i thought you said you can tell when girls want to fuck someone? was i not being obvious enough for you?" you tease him, using his own logic against him.

he physically face palms, he'd have to make a reminder to never be so fucking stupid again. he'd have to learn to not open his big mouth sometimes.

"fuck. whatever okay? we get it, i was stupid."

"i'm not letting you live it down, ever." you smiled crawling over to him to give him another kiss

he pulls you close, grips your hips tightly. he was so needy but that doesn't come as a surprise to you.

"shit.. i wish i could've fucked you stupid in my civic.. make you regret ever calling her names.." he groans

"shh.. be quiet.. you talk too much.." you teased.

he quickly pressed you down into your seats, hovering over you as he pulled off his shirt. you leaned up to touch the tattoos littered over his skin. he should work shirtless in the garage you think. why doesn't he? maybe it would distract you but that would be alright with you.

and he doesn't waste a second pulling off your top, hastily unclipping your bra to let your tits spill out for him, slapping them before taking one in his mouth and moaning.

your legs wrapped around his torso, tugging him closer, desperately to feel him against your crotch

"fuck jisung.. take it out.. i wanna see it.." you whine

he pulls back to unbuckle his jeans shimmying them off while in the process hitting his head against the roof a couple of times. you laugh at him and reach forward to help him tug them down, boxers soon following suit, letting his cock spring free.

"now i wanna see yours." he gives you a stupid little side smile and you pull your skirt up to reveal your panties. black thong that would soon be thrown out of sight. you hook your fingers on them and tug them down, throwing them at jisung once they were off your legs. he caught them and give them a nice sniff to which you slapped his arm and laughed, calling him a pervert.

he quickly manhandled you into position. he wanted to take you from behind, wanted to lap you nice and clean before he even dared sinking his cockhead inside of you.

working your pussy with his tongue, his hands spreading your asscheeks open for him to be able to embed himself within you. he could stay like this forever. he could live off eating your cunt for the rest of his life.

you were soaking.

some of it dripping on to your leather seats which made jisung fucking lose it

"your car's gonna need some detailing on the interior once we're done.." his hot breath fanning against your pussy as he lands a spank on your ass

"i think my pussy needs detailing first.." you giggle and jisung lets out a grunt. you couldn't joke with him like that, he could fucking die!

he spits on his cock and and uses it to work himself, pumping his length and letting his tip collect some of your essence so he could rub it in with his palm.

he presses an inch in, hearing your breath hitch as you scramble to hold on to the door, anticipating him to completely ruin you.

he curses as he feels your tight pussy swallow whatever he gives you, starting with an inch, then two, then three.

holding still to not overwhelm his cock and blow right then and there, he still had to work the rest in and he was already feeling his balls tighten at the sensation of your warmth.

once he collects himself, he bottoms out. taking a deep breath as he holds your hips and starts to set a steady pace.

the way your pussy was gripping on him was making him dizzy. hearing you moan his name and reaching a hand back for him made his ego and cock swell. he grabbed your hand and held it behind your back as he pressed you further up against the door.

you didn't seem to care about how uncomfortable it was at the moment, all you cared about was that han jisung was using your cunt and it felt so fucking good.

your face pressed against the window as you mumbled incoherently, he picked up the pace as a sheen of sweat started to form on his body.

"fuck.. this pussy is so greedy.. holy shit.." he groans loudly

he could barely pull out, cunt too tight and hungry for him to even let go.

"this pussy is mine now got it? m' making it mine.."

"yours now jisung..fuck yes.. gonna cum in it right?"

"you can fucking bet on that, baby.. gonna fuck you full and have you keep it in until the next car meet. then i'll just fill you up all over again, got it?"

you moaned in agreement, you wanted nothing more than to be stuffed full of jisung's cum. maybe you'd go home and play with yourself, pressing your fingers inside of you in hopes of collecting some to rub against your clit. or maybe you'd bring it up to your lips to taste him, to imagine it's actually his cock in your mouth and not your fingers.

"shit jisung.. i-i'm gonna cum.. keep going baby please.."

the pet name has him reeling, it makes him animalistic, pounding into you so hard that the car starts shaking. if anyone were to pass by, they'd know exactly what was going on inside your car.

he reaches a hand down to rub at your clit, pinching it a few times to hear you yelp.

"come on baby.. cream on my cock.. milk me yeah?" his chest pressed against your back while he whispered pure filth in your ear.

he could feel your pussy clamping down on him as you reached your orgasm, body shaking as it ripped through you, cumming with his name on your lips.

it was finally too much for him so he lets himself go, letting his cum seep into your walls as he finished inside of you, making sure not a drop is spilled.

"fuck jisung.. that was a lot.." you whined, afraid that if you moved too much you'd make a huge mess for sure.

"sorry.. just had to get my point across. i was serious about this pussy- well.. you.. being mine.." he laughs shyly

"we can discuss that topic later and see if it fits into the terms and conditions of our truce." you giggled.

he smiled and helped you up carefully to give you a soft kiss.

at least he was right about his honda civic being a babe magnet, right?

his car sacrificed herself for this moment and han jisung couldn't be too mad about it.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #han jisung #han jisung smut #binsito #han smut #skz han

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thursdayygrrrl · 8 months ago

Text

from the sidelines

⌦ .｡.:*♡

characters: natasha romanoff, wanda maximoff (wandanat)

genre: fluff, slight angst

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood & guns, breakdowns/crying

summary: When Wanda comes into Natasha’s life, she gives the widow something to lose.

word count: 3,859

a/n: this is my first time writing for nat/something nat-centric and, technically, wandanat too! this was inspired by sidelines by phoebe bridgers because i think that song is suuuuper underappreciated and that it was a good fit for them (lyrics are in bold and italics). it’s been a while since i last wrote anything for fun and not for uni, so please be kind. i also don’t know much about gardening so some of the language might not be accurate. you can read it on ao3 (here) or under the cut. i hope you enjoy :>

I’m not afraid of anything at all

If there was one thing constant about Natasha, it was the lack of fear. It wasn’t inherent, but was a habit developed essential for her survival. She learned that pretty quickly. One moment of hesitance, no matter how short, could mean life or death.

There were other times she felt brave without risking her life though. Like when she first dyed her hair. She chose the color blue because it reminded her of the sky. The horizon always looked limitless, a reminder that there could be more to life than what she had already experienced. She remembers making that choice and following through with it. It made her feel in control of something, amidst all the other things she had no power over.

───── ⴵ⋅ᗢ⋅ⴵ ─────

‘Cause nothing ever shakes me, nothing makes me cry

Not a plane going down in the ocean and drowning

One of her most vivid memories is flying the plane with Melina. The night was normal at first. She was playing tag with her younger sister until she fell and hurt her knee. Then, they watched the fireflies and went inside to help with dinner. Alexei arrived and they started eating. It all felt so nice, so normal until he said they were going on a big adventure. Her appetite disappeared. Yelena was excited, oblivious to what it actually meant. She didn’t have the heart or the chance to tell her.

The drive out was tense and quiet, save for American Pie playing in the background. She watched the scenes change outside her window from the suburbs to highways. They had to move fast, but she felt sluggish, overwhelmed with everything going on. She remembers holding on to a photobooth strip of her and Yelena before finally running to get on the plane after being urged by Alexei. The sound of sirens and the whirring of engines, her heartbeat hammering in her chest, filled her ears. Gunshots started sounding off. One hit Melina’s shoulder.

“I need you up here,” She said through gritted teeth. Natasha clambered beside her.

She was wincing in pain while giving instructions to pull right.

“Mom, you’ve got blood on you,” Her voice came out strangled, and that tight feeling came along with tears forming in her eyes. She didn’t cry often but she knew she hated the physiological sensations that came with it.

“It’s okay, baby.” Two more cars directly in front of them appeared in the distance. “Hit the accelerator there.”

She did as she was told, speeding the plane up. She faltered when a few more shots were fired at them.

“Hold it steady, hold it steady.” More shots, the headlights ahead were blindingly bright. “You’re gonna pull back at 55 knots.” They started counting in unison. Alexei popped one of the cars’ tires with a bullet, causing them to crash into each other.

“Pull back, you can do it! Pull back, all your strength...” Part of the plane grazes with the bottom of the now-upturned car. But they were finally off the ground. Flying. A sense of relief washes over her.

Considering the past few hours, the rest of the flight went smoothly. They landed somewhere remote, it felt like the middle of nowhere. Alexei carried Melina to a stretcher held by some soldiers she and Yelena ran after. After a short exchange of words with the older woman, she remembers wrangling a gun from someone, unwanted tears threatening to fall from her eyes again, and Yelena’s small form hiding behind her.

“I don’t wanna go back there.”

A needle was buried deep into her neck. She was then thrown into a shipping container with other girls. Masked people were pointing rifles at them, shouting and violently wrenching Yelena from her hold. There was a man, he knelt to meet her eyes. Rough and calloused hands held her face.

“The Red Room is your home now.”

───── ⴵ⋅ᗢ⋅ⴵ ─────

Watched the world from the sidelines

Had nothing to prove

Natasha had just started getting used to being “normal,” just another child in midwestern America. She was going to school, being around other kids, having a family until it was all ripped away. Even though it was all a lie, she couldn’t say it wasn’t important to her.

Being back in the Red Room was a regimented, isolating existence. No one was able to speak to each other for long. Schedules were planned down to the minute. Excruciating physical training, including hand-to-hand combat, ballet, acrobatics, and weapons training, pushed them to their limits, sometimes even beyond.

The mutilation, both psychological and physical, was the worst of all. They broke down each girl’s hope and willpower if any were even left. They were treated like objects, mere faceless weapons they could manipulate as a means to an evil end. The ones who survived were considered lucky, the prime of their batches, and given an operation. They called it “graduation,” but everyone knew what that meant.

At some point, she was able to get out. Her time with the KGB, then in S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers was filled with twists and turns. It was a lot of battles, moral disputes, and political agendas. There was even a time when she had to expose her own seedy past, much to her discomfort, but it was for the greater good. She didn’t mind as long as it was for the well-being of others.

───── ⴵ⋅ᗢ⋅ⴵ ─────

‘Til you came into my life

Gave me something to lose

Now that she thinks of it, the first time she interacted with Wanda was horrible. The witch inflicted a vision, memories that she was trying to bury and leave behind, when she was weakened and vulnerable. There were snippets of a conversation with Madame B. The graduation ceremony. It made her feel like a monster all over again.

The next time they interacted was in the Battle of Sokovia. She remembers regrouping with Steve, but not expecting the very same witch to make an appearance. Despite all the chaos, the jacket she wore looked familiar.

“Is that my jacket?” Natasha gestured at the younger woman, frowning slightly.

“She’s with us,” Steve said.

“That still doesn’t explain the jacket.”

Natasha was persistent. She didn’t shop for clothes often, never dressing up unless she wanted or had to, so this red jacket was special. It was one of the first few things she bought for herself. Wanda, now awkward and unsure of what to do, ran off. The rest of the battle felt like a blur of robots and rubble.

Since then, Wanda joined the Avengers. The younger woman mostly kept to herself when not on missions, watching sitcoms in her room. Vision would talk to her sometimes. Other times, the widow herself would do so. Natasha understood she needed space and time to cope with everything she’d been through but didn’t want to leave her fully isolated.

Their conversations, if you could even call them that, were awkward at first. Natasha would ramble on about whatever, trying to fill the silence.

“There’s breakfast in the kitchen.”

Wanda looks up from her book only to be met with a small, warm smile on the assassin’s face.

“It’s the usual American stuff. Eggs, bacon, sugary cereal, some fruit. Pretty sure Clint’s making waffles too,” Natasha points to the door with her thumb. “You should eat with us. Bond with the team, all that stuff that Steve goes on about. We’ll have training after.”

Wanda hums in contemplation. Then, she nods. It’s the slightest motion that one would miss if they didn’t pay enough attention. Natasha nods back and turns to leave the room. The witch’s voice catches her off-guard, though.

“I’ll come with you.”

It’s raspy in the best way possible, with a hint of her Sokovian accent lingering. It’s a sound that Natasha decides she would like to hear more often. Her smile grows ever so slightly as she gestures for her to walk together.

───

When Natasha started helping in Wanda’s hand-to-hand combat training, the two became closer literally and figuratively. In one memorable session, from when Wanda still wasn’t as skilled at combat as she is now, Natasha was able to pin her down. Her lithe fingers wrapped around the other woman’s wrists while she used her thighs to straddle. All to restrict movement, of course. The flustered expression on the witch’s face could not be more obvious.

Their sessions consisted of a warm-up, some rounds of sparring, and a cooldown. After barely surviving this particularly challenging one, Wanda lands on the bench with a sigh. “Fuck… You kicked my ass today, Tasha. No fair,” She says through heavy breaths, leaning back and wiping the sweat from her brow.

Natasha shrugs and smiles as she sits beside her, reaching for a bottle of water across from the younger woman. Her torso brushes with her thigh, making the Sokovian lose her breath all over again.

“Please. I went easy on you. Besides, it’s revenge for taking my jacket,” Natasha says as she sits back up and takes a sip of water.

Wanda stands on slightly wobbly legs while a breathy laugh escapes her lips. “You’re really still holding that grudge?” She raises her hands playfully, “In my defense, Steve threw it at me and told me to put it on. It was a hectic time, you know.”

Natasha smirks and shakes her head as they both move to gather their bags and leave. The assassin offers her hand.

“Let me carry your stuff. It’s the least I can do. Look, you can barely stand.”

“It’s okay, Tasha. I go—”

“Come on,” The widow urges. A knowing look is on her face.

Wanda’s face becomes flushed, more so than it already was. It looks like she hopes Natasha won’t notice, but she does anyway. She raises her eyebrow teasingly.

“Did the workout take you out that bad, Wands?”

The nickname doesn’t help at all. Wanda rolls her eyes playfully as she hands her duffel bag over. Natasha slings both bags over her shoulder and they start walking together.

“Remind me again why I have to keep doing the hand-to-hand stuff? I literally move things with my mind.”

“If you use your mind, why do you do the thing with your hands then?” Natasha tries to mimic the witch’s signature hand movements with her free hand. This earns her a lighthearted push.

“Oh, you know I’m just kidding. We both know you can’t just rely on your magic all the time. I want you to be able to fend for yourself if anything happens. Yeah?”

Wanda groans exaggeratedly, “Ugh. Okay, yes, you have a point.”

She chuckles at this. The pair, now embraced by a comfortable silence, walks to the elevator of the compound. As they enter, Natasha wraps her free arm around Wanda’s shoulder. She squeezes slightly, firm muscles under her touch, bringing her closer and looking into her eyes.

“Wanna have lunch with me today?”

Wanda raises her eyebrow, “Can we watch I Love Lucy while we eat?”

Natasha nods and hands over her bag. “Of course.”

They smile warmly at each other, parting ways to freshen up before meeting again later.

───

Natasha and Wanda have seen each other at different points in their lives. Happy, sad, and everything else in between. But the Lagos Incident was a whole other thing. Natasha herself was a witness to how Wanda had been doing so well before it. To watch the immense guilt, self-loathing, and depression come over the witch after the incident, after slowly building herself back up, was heartbreaking for the widow.

Old habits die hard. Wanda becomes a recluse again. However, instead of sitcoms accompanying her, it was the news. She couldn’t help but keep watching coverage of it as if being constantly reminded of this tragedy was helping anyone.

Steve already spoke with her, Natasha knows this, but she decides to give a different type of comfort to the person she’s grown to love. A silent one, one that speaks through actions.

On days Wanda doesn’t leave her room, Natasha knows she isn’t eating so she goes up and brings food. Nine times out of ten, it’s a peanut butter sandwich because it’s all she can make without setting the kitchen on fire. Ten times out of ten, it’s returned with just a few bites taken out. It doesn’t matter, Natasha is just happy to provide her with even the littlest bit of sustenance.

On nights Wanda can’t sleep, evident by the faint light escaping from her room, Natasha stays up with her. She takes it upon herself to change the channels on Wanda’s television or switch it off. She puts on some music instead, knowing that noise is a welcome distraction to her spiraling thoughts. Other times, Wanda motions for Natasha to her bed. The contact of skin on skin, the physical reminder that she isn’t alone helps Wanda relax even if it’s only for a few hours. Most nights, the feeling of Natasha’s body pressed up against Wanda’s is enough to lull her to sleep.

And when it’s not, when she falls into that spiral once more, Natasha’s always there to wipe away her tears and pull her out of it.

“So many people… All those lives lost because I-I couldn’t—” Wanda sobs, breaking down in the familiar hold of strong arms.

Natasha squeezes just a little bit tighter. She speaks softly, interrupting the younger woman, “I know, Wands. I know. But you have to stop blaming yourself, okay? We’ve all hurt people and we’ve all made mistakes. Even if we mean well. And you did mean well. It’s just sometimes things work out in ways we don’t anticipate.”

The consoling words fall on deaf ears. Wanda shakes her head and cries even harder while burying herself deeper into the embrace. Her voice is muffled, repeated pleas of repentance, “It’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s all my fault… T-tasha, it’s all my fault…” Unsure what to say now, Natasha resorts to her instinct instead. It has never failed her. She starts to rock Wanda gently, pressing a soothing kiss to the top of the younger woman’s head. A quiet, melodic hum resonates from her lips. She continues until Wanda’s breathing evens out and until sleep takes over both of them.

───

A soft stream of sunlight seeps into the room, awakening the Russian. She looks down at the sleeping figure in her arms. Wanda looks so peaceful right now, Natasha thinks. She would do anything to conserve this moment, this feeling of serenity for her. To take away all her pain, heartache, and afflictions. Realistically, she knows she can’t accomplish that. The best she can do is just be there for her.

It’s been a few minutes since and she feels Wanda stir slightly, who immediately snuggles closer and remains asleep. A warm feeling settles in her body, first in her chest then it spreads all over. She recalls feeling this way many times before, but only ever with Wanda. It’s at this exact instance she finally fully realizes what this is.

I’m in love.

She bites her lip in contemplation, quiet realization, as Wanda’s eyes flutter open. Hazy green eyes look into clear ones and a mumbled phrase reaches her ears. “Your thoughts are getting loud, Tasha. Are you okay?”

Broken from her trance, she looks down at Wanda. “Yeah, I am. Um. I just… I have something to tell you.” She shifts to lean against the headboard. Now is as perfect a time as any, she thinks.

Wanda’s eyebrows stitch together in a frown as she rubs the sleep from her eyes. She sits up, mostly leaning her weight on the other woman, while trying to decipher the look on her face. The Russian waits for a sign of approval from the Sokovian. Wanda nods and hums.

“I’m going to be direct about this, Wands.”

She takes a deep breath in.

“I like that we’ve grown close, that we consider each other as friends. I like doing things for you and with you and I like helping you, giving you what I have. Time, insight, comfort, whatever. Watching sitcoms with you, sleeping next to you, and waking up in your bed. I like your voice and your ringed hands, how graceful they look when you use your powers. The way your nose scrunches up and your bunny teeth show when you smile. How your accent slips when you say certain words and how you say my name. The way you carry yourself. How you care so much about others… If you let me, I would care for you for the rest of time.”

Natasha finishes with a sharp exhale, only now realizing her rambling. Losing control was one of the things she never wanted to experience again, but this time was different. Finally letting these thoughts flow through and out of her felt cathartic.

Wanda’s voice is quiet, “You would?”

Natasha nods, “Always.”

She says it without hesitation. Because she is wholly certain that she has no other answer. Why would there be?

Wanda becomes silent. An unreadable expression appears on her face as she takes in Natasha’s words. Her posture straightens slightly. Tension is now in the air and a silence begins to settle.

Natasha screws her eyes shut, willing the tears in her eyes to stop forming. She was just about to take everything back, apologize for even saying anything, before getting interrupted. She feels slim fingers gently hold her face. Wanda strokes Natasha’s cheek, her thumb moving in slow, circular motions while she speaks.

“Tasha, hey, please don’t cry,” Wanda looks at her pleadingly, leaning in closer.

Natasha blinks rapidly, brows furrowing together. “I’m sorry. I got nervous because you weren’t saying anything and I… I don’t want to lose you.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. I just had to take a minute because I didn’t realize you felt this way. Trust you won’t lose me, please.” She looks away. Her touch slows down and ceases as her hands fall to her lap. “I just don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“You didn’t have to do anything, moya lyubov.” Natasha holds Wanda’s hands, “I mean everything I just said. I love you, Wanda.”

She waits for a response with bated breath. Before she knows it, she feels supple lips capture her own.

It’s tender yet electric. It’s everything she’s ever imagined and more. It’s simply perfect.

Natasha closes her eyes and deepens the kiss. She cradles Wanda’s jaw and feels the brunette melt into her touch. They pull away seconds later, foreheads touching as they catch their breath. Wanda says softly, “I love you too, Natasha. You don’t know how long I have been wanting to say that.”

───── ⴵ⋅ᗢ⋅ⴵ ─────

Now I know what it feels like

To wanna go outside

It was a calm morning, both women following a routine established over the past few months. Natasha would wake up early and then proceed to training, leaving Wanda to sleep in. By the time she’d be back, Wanda was up and just finishing preparing breakfast. They’d eat together, talk about their plans for the day, and decide what to do from there. Some days they’d spend together while, on others, they’d have separate activities.

“Detka! Come here, please!”

Natasha was working on some reports when she heard Wanda call out. She looks at the clock and decides now is a perfect time to take a break anyway. She hums as she stands up and stretches her limbs before leaving the room.

Wanda had been tending to the garden in the compound for some time now. She started with small pots of herbs and then moved to random vegetables after discovering she had a gift for raising plants. Lately, she also added flowers and various houseplants to her catalog. Being out in the sun, getting her hands dirty, and nurturing these plants was hard work, but it was work Wanda loved.

Natasha makes a couple of peanut butter sandwiches and pours two glasses of cold water on a tray, then carries it over to the sliding door leading to the garden. She places it down on a table outside and her eyes immediately search for Wanda. It’s an irresistible sight, her beloved’s face beaming and surrounded by greenery. She even thinks she sees her talking to the plants.

She smiles to herself while appreciating the view until Wanda realizes she’s arrived. She gets waved over, “Tasha!” The excitement in the witch’s voice is barely contained as Natasha walks towards her.

She wraps an arm around Wanda, bringing her closer and kissing her forehead, “Hi, kotenok. I brought over some snacks and water if you wanted them. What is it you wanted me to see?”

Wanda pulls off her gardening gloves, places them in her pocket, and brushes her hands over her pants. She mumbles a quick thank you before taking Natasha’s hand in one of her own and using the other to cover her eyes.

“Close your eyes. I want this to be a surprise.”

Natasha plays along, using her free hand to help cover her eyes. “Okay. Just make sure I don’t trip, yeah?”

Wanda giggles as she leads Natasha by the hand, “Don’t worry, detka, I got you.”

They walk slowly, up a few steps, and stop. Wanda takes a deep breath, “Okay, now.”

When their hands uncover Natasha’s eyes, she is met with vibrant blooms of various colors against a green background of bushes. It’s a masterful arrangement of asters, marigolds, hydrangeas, wildflowers, and many more. She gasps, breath taken away by the gorgeous sight.

“You did all this by yourself?”

The Sokovian nods sheepishly, “Yeah. I read somewhere that getting them all to bloom like this would be challenging, but I think I did decently.”

Natasha squeezes her hand, “It’s more than decent. It looks stunning, Wands. You did an amazing job.”

Wanda’s arm wraps around Natasha’s waist, her head rests on her shoulder. A satisfied sigh leaves her lips. They remain silent, basking in each other’s presence and the garden view.

“If you’re like this with plants, I can only imagine how well you’d be with kids,” Natasha muses.

Wanda lifts her head and looks at Natasha, her shoulders raised slightly, “What if, at some point, you won’t have to imagine?”

Small smiles grow on both of their faces. They share a knowing look before assuming their previous positions. “Someday, lyubov, someday.”

Natasha used to feel the need to keep busy, keep moving because she thought anything too constant would be taken away from her again. Though she never admitted it to anyone, not even herself, the thought of settling down and starting a family of her own was terrifying.

But not anymore. Everything felt so much easier with Wanda. It now truly felt like anything was possible. The lack of fear forced onto her when she was younger came from a dark place of abuse and indifference. Now, it comes naturally. It comes from love.

#ky writes!#oneshot #fanfic #marvel #mcu #marvel oneshot #marvel fanfiction #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #wandanat #wanda maximoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfiction #wandanat fluff #wandanat fanfiction #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda x natasha #wlw

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uglypastels · 1 month ago

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15. Nothing Matters - The Last Dinner Party, with Steve!

Dealers choice on what you want to do with it ❤️

thank you for the request 🩷 hope you like it.

word count: 1k warning: mention of breaking up, mention of smoking, of alcohol (consumption), swearing, very brief mention of PIV sex (18+)

Spotify Blurb Event ~ Stranger Things Masterlist

#15 Nothing Matters - The Last Dinner Party We've got the highway tight The moon is bursting with headlights One more and we're away Love tender in your Chevrolet

A click of a lighter with no spark as the wind brushed past your face. The house you were facing away from was bursting with live, the loud music, the screaming and dancing, bright lights and alcohol, but outside, it was dead quiet. Nothing but the cold air, your unlit cigarette and the smell of spilt alcohol on your costume.

You should never have come here in the first place, a feeling only strengthened as you kept pressing the ridged button of the lighter with no new results. But not all hope was lost as you heard the sudden opening of the front door, followed by rushed footsteps.

‘Hey,’ you called out, ‘you got a lighter?’

The man, who you immediately recognised, but were generally too pissed off to care about, to be none other than King Steve, halted in his exit. Even while wearing his sunglasses at night, you could tell he had been stunned. He patted down his pockets, though you could tell he did not expect to find anything in them.

‘No, sorry.’ He apologised but did not resume his position on the yard path.

‘Eh, was worth to ask,’ you shrugged and resumed mindlessly flicking the lighter switch. Not that you expected anything to happen, more so to keep yourself occupied as you waited for this miserable night to be over.

‘You alright, there?’ Steve asked, and for some reason, the simple question was enough to boil your blood… or perhaps it was just the final pull of the tight string that had been choking you down that night, snatching with a tight snap.

‘I’m fine!’ As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt a twinge of guilt wash over you. There was Steve, who had never done anything particularly wrong towards you, probably would have offered you his lighter if he had one, and was asking you if you were alright, and what do you do in return…

‘Sorry,’ you sighed, getting up from the wet grass that most likely had soaked itself right into your skirt. ‘It’s been a long night.’

‘Tell me about it,’ he tried to laugh it off, and maybe if you weren’t matching him in the mindset, you wouldn’t have noticed just how hard he had failed to do so. A moment of awkward silence perforated the distance between you until he asked: ‘need a ride?’

At first, you felt the strong urge to decline, feeling the complexities that this seemingly simple gesture might bring with it, but then you thought a bit more of everything that had happened leading up to this moment, and all you could reply with was, fuck it, ‘sure.’

He waited for you to join him at his side before walking to the end of the driveway and down to road to where he had parked his car. The silence had returned, and you being you, unable to keep it together for a single moment and with thoughts spurring a million miles a second, you said the first thing to pop into your mind. ‘Not usual for King Steve to leave a party this early.’

‘Not usual to get dumped at a party either.’ He scoffed as he unlocked the door. You had your hand on the door handle as he spoke, eyes wide with surprise. For a moment, you contemplated whether you should reply, but in the end, you just relied on honesty.

‘It’s more usual than you’d think.’ Hopefully, he wasn’t as dumb as people made him out to be, and he would understand what you meant without going any further into the matter.

He got into the car without saying another word.

That’s where things should have ended. He had brought you back home, and said a pleasant goodnight, never to be heard from again as you both went to go on with your lives.

And yet, the next time you saw eachother across the hall, there was a knowing, lingering look from both sides. And day by day, it inched closer, step by step, as you dared to pull in. Was it the fact that you had the unspoken connection of heartbreak? Maybe. There didn’t seem to be anything else to bring you two together.

Certainly, there was no reason at all for you to find each other at future parties, where you wouldn’t be missed by the others around, to escape in his car as you did that first time, only for now to stop on a small lane heading into the woods. With the car lights off, the radio on softly in the background to drown out the moans and grunts and the sound of skin-to-skin contact.

Neither of you knew why you were there, only knew that it felt good in the moment and probably should never happen again… not that you would actually follow through with that.

Your bra strapped fell down your arm as Steve pushed deep into you. A curse fell from both your lips. Steve brushed his unruly hair from his face. It was messy, it was rough, it was cold, and in a way it was perfect. Exactly what you needed at the moment. And unlike with other guys you knew, there were no surprises in the end. You knew exactly how things would end.

You’d both get dressed, feeling satisfied, if not a little bit dirty, with awkward smiles on your faces, and Steve, the gentleman that he turned out to be, would drive you home. Just like that. No awkward feelings involved, no questions of what it all meant or what it could lead to. It was just you and him for a few brief moments where nothing seemed to matter. For sure not those that broke your hearts.

Or so you kept telling yourselves that.

the end.

Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed it, please consider to like and especially reblog but also I would love to know what you thought of the story so please feel free to leave behind a comment anywhere around the post. all forms are appreciated :] and anon asks are always open if you're not about that public life.

and if you want to send in a prompt yourself, remember to check out the Spotify Blurb challenge, linked on top!

ok, that's all. yap sesh over.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #sh stranger things #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #Z's Spotify Blurbs 2024

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specter319 · 1 month ago

Text

𝗦𝗜𝗟𝗞 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗟

[Link to the work on AO3] A/N: Surprise, I'm back for a little Christmas present, after months of not being around thanks to University taking my entire time up (like to a point where I couldn't even do what the University even requested of me.) I'm back and here in the flesh with something that is now taking the top spot compared to my other story that yes — I'm reworking. I've done some world building in the Delta Squad Universe and realised that none of the other character involved would be even alive. So while that is on my slow WIP list, have this — something that inspired by my 2025's Game of The Year series. And a small little indie game named Night Runners. When I saw this, the 2000's aesthetic. I immediately ran to my MacBook's keyboard and started typing a furious storm, so much so that I'm now several chapters in and 25,000 words deep, and with an ending in mind, but no end in sight ironically enough. Trigger Warning: None, as of far. Word Count: 1.7k Words. Characters in Chapter: John 'Soap' MacTavish, Various other characters, mentions of John's Family Story Blurb:

When John MacTavish had a single rule of putting his family first. He'd never figure that a drunken night after partying would change everything. A blur of headlights, the roar of engines, and the sight of a white and blue car tearing through the highway below him would ignite something in him he couldn't ignore.

In a story set in the year 2000, John MacTavish finds himself with a bunch of fellow illegal street racers after getting in through friends of friends, and with eyes set on him as a member for the taking, a fish out of water. It's up to him to find what had pulled him in to begin with. 'The Blue Comet'.

—

Inspired by the Five Star lyric line from 'Rain or Shine': "Silk and steel, that's the way you feel. And how I love you now."

𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗡𝗧 𝗧𝗢 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗡 — 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗨𝗘

It was strange, hearing that low hum at 2 o’clock in the morning. When all that was around were that of empty streets, barking dogs, and the light rumble of voices. Sometimes becoming uncontrolled bouts of drunk laughter. He never took note of much else, the traffic. The loud sounds of throttled engines as they tore through the sound of quiet. It happened every couple of nights. How they hadn’t stopped it, changed the way the highway structure behaved. He didn’t know.

Because John MacTavish never understood the urge to move faster than the speed of sound. Something akin to a cheap thrill rather than something paying off in the long run. That’s because he was on the scientific side of it, saw that an engine could run down as fast as the car itself. Hell, though he’d played Need for Speed or Gran Turismo, given they were fresh, new. It never appealed to Johnny what a car did. Other than at a certain amount of compression, creating a combusted explosion. And that bit, he was most interested in.

That’s why as his bunch of drunk friends, close to no sailors’ legs, walked along the bridge. With a giggle, one of them made it wobble before one of the girls screamed out to stop, all the while they all laughed. John carried on like a scared cat as the very same one shaking it saw him flushed with panic as he stopped.

“Fuckin’ Lavvy heid” John called out in slight anger before one of the girls came up to him. A way to tease him, but the very same one who screamed out for the guy to stop.

“Such a big baby you are, Johnny boy.” She spoke as the others continued on, hands moved around him as she hugged him from the side.

“‘Cause ye kin talk Kimberly ,” John bit back as he laughed, “ye wur panicking then!”

“No, I wasn’t.” She stated back, trying to brush off the fact that John would, of course, remember that she, in fact, was.

There had been a strange little bout of intimacy between the two over the past couple of months. And both of them could see it . They’d been so close to kissing on many occasions, but in some parts, something would always distract them. Make them turn away or get interrupted by something they didn’t want as a distracting factor.

But Johnny always seemed to dwell on it. As if it was an early warning sign not to get too close to her. But close enough to where she could feel the blood race in her body. Could smell the lingering hints of sweat, a mixture of various drinks that hadn’t settled in on John yet. But enough to where she could single out what he’d had at the party. One of which was the stench of tequila. It was too close for Johnny. Almost like a siren call, that woman. She was trouble, and he knew that trouble wanted him as much as he wanted to sink into the flame of her body.

“You catchin’ up, lovebirds?” An Irish voice called out, loud for a quiet area, no less. John stared at her, looking at her lips, then back at her almost toxic green eyes with the way the two stood there. Had they kept looking at one another…

“Coming,” Kimberly called before she smiled at John. We’ll get back to this, you and I, later.

So Johnny stood there. Rebuilding the pieces of his mind as he figured out what had happened between the two of them. Before he swallowed what little saliva she had sucked out of him from looking at her. When he heard that sharp whine, a loud crackle. He knew what it was, heard it every week. The roads below them were a festering playground of cars. When people weren’t on this section of highway strip at this time of night. And somehow, they’d decided that tonight would be the perfect time to do so. Four hours before the sun always came up.

Lights flickered through metal poles. Two boxes of shaped metal came blazing through at speeds a cop would drool over. As he watched them grow bigger with the shortening gap of distance below him. It was a dangerous dance as the pair of them corrected their steering. The only thing heard were the screaming revs of their motors. The rubber compound of the tires pounding like a cardiac arrest in someone’s rib cage. Passing under the bridge and blowing Johnny’s hair back as he rushed over to the other side of the bridge to see what they were doing, where they were still going . Flames shooting out of the exhaust as one of them finally shifted. And the acoustics bounced along the fence the houses had protected them from that sound.

He kept his eyes on where they’d last seen them, a white car, a small thing compared to the blue comet he’d seen chewing miles up on it but taunting it no less . As Johnny stood there on the footbridge, the smell of petrol lingering in his nose as he heard the sudden rev limit hitting at the sound of a winner . It was a familiar pattern he’d heard time and time again. And this time, he’d managed to see who was behind it. But from that sheer moment alone, Johnny MacTavish’s brain chemistry had altered. Be it worse or better now for the life of a scientific university student.

It soon came to be that after that moment in time, Kimberley had never gotten back to what they were about to do, for she was already sitting on the lap of another boy, the very same Irish bastard that was calling out to them, making out with him in a careless fashion . All the while, they got further drunk around them, and those two took it to the room. And all the while yet, Johnny’s mind flashed to how smooth the cars had been, spoke about it many times to his friend in a heavy Scottish brogue that only another Scot could understand as he let his body send him into a state of memory so deep he didn’t believe it was a dream, where he was behind the wheel instead, but unable to control the car . It took handwork from thought to get something like a comet to dance.

And that thought left him as soon as he’d awoken, his mind not thinking any longer of the girl, or of the race last night, but of the looming and loud crack of thunder in his head from the hangover he had, a simple sign that he’d drunken too much — but what was new . Because even as the thunder rumbled in his head, it took on the shape of the dancing cars, even as he grabbed his phone out and took minutes to get through a menu to find ‘Messages’ as the phone beeped at the warning of low battery, with a simple message shot out .

MK B home soon. J x x

And as soon as he’d sent out a message to both his mother and sister, he’d shut his phone down so he could save whatever battery remained . And as the morning came to, and the others soon came alive, no one reminded him of the Brogue rambling he’d done about dancing cars . Rather, passed it off as a drunken and now, it seemed hungover state that Johnny was in. Hell, even laughed at his drunken state given he’d often act child-like in his drunken reprimands which also came with a god-awful pig-like laugh that was only worsened when it started out in an evil cackle too .

He never believed how bad his laugh was, for though people often spoke about it, there was no real evidence. And that was more than enough for John to not believe it as a firsthand account. Even as they swore up and down that it happened again amongst the brogue rumble of his voice accounting for some kind of dancing . So with a coffee sculled down, a strip of bacon stolen, water and a painkiller taken, John was out as the party had been set up .

So it became no wonder John felt a weird sense of déjà vu wash over him when he walked over that footbridge again. To see it full of life, the 9 a.m. traffic coming through in droves as per usual. Watching as he looked on at cars whizzing by at the typical speed.

Not the speed they were going last night, no, about two times slower, if at best. And even as he stared at all the cars going past, John felt his brain doing something, he didn’t know what, it was still the hangover finally breaking through . But he’d feel lesser pain if so. He didn’t care, for he was too tired, but it was a great observation nonetheless in why cars made such a great deal of, even if it didn’t interest John .

Because then he thought about his own, his shit box of a 205 he had at home, on the precipice of another incident that left the car collecting dust . It was almost as if the car itself had made him personal enemy number one the moment he turned on that ignition. So he too hated how the cars whizzing past carried a wind mixed with that very same fuel that made his brain flash back to the very same moment . If not where he was several hours earlier.

It finally pulled him away as soon as his eyesight landed on strands of hair, damp from the sweat of last night, as he pushed it back past his forehead . Unscrewed the cap of his bottle to take a swig of his water, desperate at best too, before he sealed it back up. He knew once he got back in class, there would be many things spoken about in said party. Especially who Kimberly slept with, given John hadn’t. Because only then as he watched another blue car pass by. Did he finally push himself off the rail, in a stumbled manner and walk home, even with the pounding headache.

#cod #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #specterwrites #cod mw22 #writing #190e #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #cars #ghoap #ghoap fic #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #task force 141 #phillip graves #street racing fic

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thespacewirednews · 1 month ago

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Count the headlights on the highway... ✨

If you were living in this “super star” cluster, you might see a sky full of hundreds of stars, each as bright as the full moon. This is @NASAWebb’s / Instagram.. look at Westerlund 1, one of the closest clusters of its kind. Super star clusters are young and contain more than 10,000 times the mass of the Sun packed into a small volume. Westerlund 1 is the most massive yet identified in our galaxy, with 50,000 to 100,000 times the mass of the Sun contained within a region less than six light-years across. Still considered an open cluster now, someday it will evolve into a globular cluster—a roughly spherical, tightly packed collection of old stars bound together by gravity. Super star clusters are one of the most extreme environments in which stars and planets can form. Because our galaxy is past its peak of star formation, and because stars live relatively short lives, only a few of these clusters still exist to give us clues to that past era. Westerlund 1 has a large, dense, and diverse population of evolved, massive stars. It contains so many massive stars that in a timespan of less than 40 million years, it’ll be the site of more than 1500 supernovas. This cluster is a natural laboratory for the study of extreme stellar physics, helping us learn how the most massive stars in our galaxy live and die, and how stellar winds, supernovae, and other ejected material affect star formation within their environment. Read more at the link in @ESAWebb’s bio. (Instagram) Image description: A dense cluster of bright stars, each with six large and two small diffraction spikes, due to the telescope’s optics. They have a variety of sizes depending on their brightness and distance from us in the cluster, and different colors reflecting different types of star. Patches of billowing red gas can be seen in and around the cluster, lit up by the stars. Small stars in the cluster blend into a background of distant stars and galaxies on black. Image credit: ESA/Webb, NASA & CSA, M. Zamani (ESA/Webb), M. G. Guarcello (INAF-OAPA) and the EWOCS team

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thelovelylolly · 10 months ago

Note

a request for Tommy Miller coming to the rescue when readers car breaks down late at night + Tommy putting his coat around her so she doesn't get cold.

🩷

Car Troubles

summary: your car breaks down and you know only one person who's up this late warnings: being alone in the middle of nowhere at night (not sure if that's a true warning, but might as well), pre/no outbreak, fem! reader who's described as smaller than tommy word count: 1.2k notes: tommy my love, he'd come to anyone's rescue and i love him for that (also this is so funny bc my car died on me the other day and i had to get it jumpstarted by someone else lmao)

"No, no, no!" You yelled as you hit your steering wheel.

You were able to pull your car to the side of the road right before the battery died. You groaned as you tried to turn your key, hoping the engine would turn over. Instead, you heard a wheezing sound from your engine before you stopped trying. You leaned your head against the head rest and ran through all your options.

You could try to figure things out by yourself and fix it, but it was late and you were alone on an empty road. You didn't really want to get out of your car at all, you didn't want to risk becoming a face on a missing poster. Which left you with your second option, calling someone.

You didn't know what time it was or how far you were from town, so most of your friends most likely wouldn't answer or be willing to come get you. Most meaning everyone, except for Tommy.

You quickly grabbed your phone from your purse in the passenger's seat and dialed his number. As it rang, you made sure your doors were locked and you didn't see anyone suspicious around.

"Hello?" Tommy's tired voice came from the other end.

"Hey, Tommy, it's me," you quickly answered.

"Oh, hey, sweetheart. Why are you calling me this late? Everything okay?" He asked as you heard sheets shifting around in the background.

You ignored the way his nickname for you made your cheeks warm a bit. "My car died on the side of the road. Do you think you can come get me or jumpstart my car?"

"Yeah, I'll come get you," he paused to quickly pull on some pants and a shirt before swiping his keys from his dresser, "where are you?"

"I'm a few miles from the highway, on the exit with that retro diner," you said.

"Alright, do you want to stay on the phone with me?"

"I would, but I should probably save the battery. I'll call you if it's an emergency, okay?"

"Okay, see you in a bit, sweetheart," he said before hanging up.

You sighed and put your phone back in your bag before leaning back in your seat. You wrapped your arms around yourself as a shiver ran through you. Of course the night your car decided to die was one of those rare nights in Austin when the air was brisk and windy.

You tried to ignore the slight chill slipping into your car by thinking about other things, mainly Tommy. You were happy you had a friend like him. Not only was he willing to help no matter the time of day, he was caring and funny. He was also handsome, but you'd never say it out loud. You didn't want to cross that line between friends and more, even though you two had been dancing around it for months.

Were you waiting for him to give you a sure sign he was into you? Maybe, but was that so bad? You were willing to be the one who makes the first move, you just didn't want to misread anything between you two.

However, Tommy being a gentleman and coming to your rescue late at night was making it harder not to make that first move.

You saw headlights approaching and were brought back to the present. You watched as Tommy got closer and pulled off to the side of the rode in front of your car. You quickly got out of your car and walked over to his driver's side to meet him.

"Hey," you said, crossing your arms in front of you to keep yourself warm in the brisk night air.

"Hey, you doin' alright, sweetheart?" He replied, his accent becoming heavier with his tiredness.

"I'm fine, just ready to go home, y'know?"

"Then, let's get this car fixed."

He flashed you a smile before walking over and popping your engine open. You moved to the side of your car and watched him work, his headlights being the only good source of light. Watching his hands work made you forget about the cold for a moment, but a sudden breeze caused your teeth to chatter and your hands to shake for a few seconds.

Tommy glanced up at you, worry in his eyes. "You cold?"

"Y-yeah, but I'll-"

He cut you off by standing up and taking off his jacket. He stepped closer and wrapped his jacket around your shoulders. It was big on your frame, you nearly drowned in it, but you didn't care as you slipped your arms into the sleeves. The jacket smelled like him and it gave you some relief from the cold. Tommy was standing close to you, so close that if you leaned forward just a bit, your lips would meet.

You saw his eyes fall then meet yours again. He cleared his throat and stepped away, getting back to work. He found your battery before going and grabbing his jumper cables, then turned the ignition off on his car. He quickly opened his engine up and found his battery.

He then handed the cables to you to put on your battery. Once both cables were on, he turned to you and met your gaze. "Let's see if it worked."

You nodded with a smile, then rounded your car and hopped in the driver's seat. You turned your keep and the engine finally turned over. You got out of the car and quickly went over to Tommy, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug.

"Thank you!" Your words were muffled with your face buried in his neck.

He laughed as his arms wrapped tightly around you. "Anytime, sweetheart."

You pulled away just enough to meet his eyes, the two of you smiling like idiots. You saw his eyes dart down again, and you took that as your sign. You leaned in slowly, a bit hesitant, too. As you just started to tilt your head to the side, Tommy closed the gap between you two. Your lips met and it made all that time dancing around your feelings worth it. His lips were soft and fit with yours perfectly as he pulled you even closer. The cold, the cars, everything went out the window and your thoughts were just him and his lips.

It only lasted a few moments, but it felt much longer. You both pulled away and slowly let each other go.

"You, uh, need anything else?" He asked, his hands holding yours for the last bit of contact.

You shook your head. "I think I'm good." Especially after kissing you, you silently add on.

"Alright, well," he finally let your hands go and took care of the cables before shutting your engines, "I'll call you tomorrow."

You two stand between your cars, not really wanting the moment to end. "Sounds good," you reply with a smile.

He quickly kissed your cheek, his lips staying close to your ear. "Talk to you then, sweetheart."

Leaving you blushing, he rounded his car and went to the driver side. You watched as he climbed in before doing the same. He pulled back out onto the road first and you followed behind him.

Maybe you should have car troubles more often.

#tommy miller x reader #tommy miller fanfiction #tommy miller fanfic #tommy miller x you #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #tlou x reader #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic

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