#aux engine

[bunnyhugs77]

Driven 2 U

Pairing: Rich! Reader x Mechanic! Jungkook

Word Count: 5.2k

Notes: am i back from the dead??

Content Warning: reader is a bit spoiled but she can't help it!, ft manager! yoongi, jk is so whipped, fluff, car troubles, reader is a bad driver, kissing, witty jk, some smut, pining, mentionsn of ex boyfriends, dirty hands, flowers, reader is a bit oblivious, mention of death, jungkook is delusional just like us.

Other Content: making out, late-night rendezvous, choking, semi-public sex, they're both so desperate, marking, soft dom! jk, light hair pulling, oral sex (f! receiving), cute conversations in between, praise.

The sun beamed down gently between the spaces of the clouds that littered the otherwise bright blue sky. Your Chanel sunglasses framed your face perfectly and your arm rested on the ledge of the window as you steered with the other. The air was sweeter, the flowers were in full bloom and the grass seemed greener.

The world always seemed so much more colourful when you had a hair appointment ahead of you. "I swear this is your third hair appointment this month." Yerin's voice rings through your aux, judgy as always, but you love her for it. She's been your best friend since you could walk, if anyone was gonna call you out it was gonna be her--it could only be her. You didn't listen to anyone else.

Especially not your overprotective dad, who kept nagging you to get your engine checked since that little light kept flashing at you. You didn't see the point. You thought of yourself as a pretty good driver even though all of your passengers often fled the moment you parked, swearing to never get in a car with you again, but they always came back.

"Yeah? What's your point? These roots aren't gonna touch up themselves." Your car began to jolt, "Uhh-" You trailed off, looking down to your dashboard and scanning for a source of the issue, "What?" Yerin asks and you quickly begin to lose speed. \

Turning on your four-ways you begin to pull over on the side of the road, "My engine light is flashing red and there's smoke coming out from my hood, is that bad?" Yerin doesn't say anything, there's silence in the car until she exhales, "You need to take your car to a mechanic like yesterday."

"-But I can't take it to Wheely's, that's where Jae used to take me whenever my car needed work." This time Yerin made sure you could hear her distress with an extra long sigh, "You guys broke up almost 6 months ago, I doubt they remember you. It's not like they'll refuse service because you broke up with one of their customers."

"Okay fine. You're lucky it's close, I'll just drive-" Before your hand could even make contact with the clutch, you're interrupted by a shout, "Do not even think about moving that car, Y/n. You'll completely kill the engine. Just call a tow truck. As a matter of fact, I'll call one for you."

That brings you to where you are right now. The passenger seat of a high-rimmed tow truck with a rugged driver. He seemed miserable to you at first, hooking your car up with a lot of grunts and 'tsks' slipping through clenched teeth until he really looked at you, eyes looking you up then down, taking in your very wealthy attire.

Suddenly small talk and friendly conversation were being made. With a rocky abruption, you bounced in your seat as the truck pulled into the back alley of the shop where there were lots of other damaged cars sitting around.

You thanked him and tipped him one hundred dollars. You clearly had no general comprehension of the value of a dollar, not when it comes to tipping at least.

You stood off to the side of the open garage, against the wall, waiting for the driver to come back after he'd gone inside to notify the mechanics that your car would need to be manually rolled in.

"You're still rolling in this piece of junk, Scooter?" A voice catches your attention two more men walk out of the garage alongside the driver. It seems the driver was known as Scooter around here though you doubt that's his real name.

"Hey, you better watch it, ol'Ruby here may be a bit aged but she's got character." Scooter taps the hood of the rusty pick-up truck while the two men stand in front of him with their arms crossed, one with mint hair and the other with dark locks; both of their backs facing you, yet to notice you were standing there.

"A bit aged? I'm certain Julius Cesar could identify it." The mint-haired man jokes and the brunette laughs while Scooter rolls his eyes.

Scooter waves you over, cueing the two men to look over their shoulders, a bit shocked they hadn't noticed you standing there earlier. "This is Yoongi and Jungkook, they'll be overseeing your repairs." They finally turned and Yoongi hardly got a full glance at you before his gaze was fixated on the man beside him who couldn't look away.

Unsure if your mind was playing tricks on you but you're fairly certain you'd seen them both before. Maybe not for long as you'd only ever been at the mechanics for a few short moments while Jae dropped off your car and switched into his.

Eyes wide and alert, you resembled a deer in headlights, unable to hold the soft gaze that was being sent your way. "Don't worry, you're in good hands," Yoongi reassures while Scooter gets back in his truck and pulls out.

"We need to roll it in, Jungkook and I are going to push from behind the car. Do you mind getting in the front and just steering to make sure to aim for the inside of the garage? Try to get it between the two pylons." Yoongie points into the garage where there are two markers a few meters apart.

Agreeing, you're just about to get back into the front seat when your phone rings. Both men were already in position, strong arms bracing the trunk and hunched over slightly, legs split apart, ready to bear the force back into the ground with each push, but you answered the phone instead.

Yoongi's brow arched while Jungkook just watched you.

"Y/n speaking."

It was your hairdresser, calling to see if you were still on your way as expected. Your heart sunk, you'd nearly forgotten ever since your car committed suicide and then Yerin was yelling at you.

"I'm so sorry- my car broke down and--" The boys listen intently, nosey as always. It wasn't often they had someone so interesting stroll into their quarters in the middle of the week.

"Yes, I know you're very busy and I would never want to waste your time--" You start but she interrupts you again. "No! Please don't put me on the waitlist I'll be there. I'm coming!" Hastily you get into the driver's seat and steer it in with the guys pushing behind you.

You got out nervously panicking, scrolling through all your contacts for someone to give you a ride. "Something wrong?" Jungkook couldn't help himself. He had to ask, even though he knew the answer.

"I have a hair appointment and she'd booked through for the next three months and if I'm not there in the next 15 minutes she's giving my spot away." Jungkook just stood there, while Yoongi worked on elevating the car.

Not a thought behind his eyes at your worries. You were in your own world for that to be your biggest concern but he tried to understand. "Why not get a Lyft?"

"Ew," Your hand clasps over your mouth almost immediately. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that--or to offend you-" Now Jungkook seemed taken aback, "Why would that offend me?" Your mouth gapes open like a fish before finally shutting.

"I'm just saying, the choice is yours. You can either get a Lyft or call the b-b-bus." He puts on a horrified expression as he chops up the last word to get it through to you. The result on your face was priceless.

"How about you give me a ride? I'll pay you." He stills, straightening his posture while his brows contorted, evidently confused. Even though Yoongi was on the opposite side of the car, crouched down on one knee, he too was confused. That wasn't an option. Jungkook is in full uniform, on the clock.

Does he get ahead of himself sometimes? Yes. The kid's got a big heart but he's not crazy, there's no way he would- "I'll get my keys." Yoongi lets his head fall in disappointment.

Jungkook led you around the back of the building then outside to the lot where he was parked and you turned to him blankly. "Which one is yours?" He unlocks the car as an answer, the headlights flashing at you. Quick on your heels you pivot to face him.

"This is your car?" Your acrylic points to the grey polished, sleek sports car that had the two doors opening on their own. "Not too shabby for the working class, huh?" He quips and you swat at his arm.

"I already said I was sorry about the Lyft thing, will you just let it go already? He snorts at how flustered you're getting, "Already? That was literally 60 seconds ago." You pout and get into the car, avoiding any further conversation.

His car smelled good, like really good. You found yourself taking deeper breaths than usual. It was hard to describe the smell but if you tried you would describe it as a bold yet comforting aroma, it almost reminded you of a man's cologne but mixed with the fresh scent of smoked leather. Sweet but musky.

"Leave some air for me." Jungkook jokes and your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets, he pulls out of the lot and heads for the address you gave him. "Just hurry up." You slouch back into the seat hoping the chair would consume you.

"You do realize you're basically in a Lyft right now." Jungkook points out as the ending revs and the car accelerates, cutting up traffic, one hand on the wheel and the other out the window, just like you.

You ignored how attractive his driving was and zeroed in on the topic at hand. "No, this is different. I personally hired you, for the next..." You lean forward to see the GPS and the remaining time to your location, "6 minutes, you're my personal chauffeur." He just had to laugh, all those times he saw you with Jae, he'd always wondered what you'd be like.

He never would've guessed you be so full of...you. But it would be one hell of a lie if he said it didn't add to your appeal. He was no longer in dangerous waters, no no. The moment he accepted your proposition, he'd thrown himself into shark-infested waves with a pressuring current, destined to pull him to the bottom.

Jungkook pulled up to the side of the salon and you hurried got out. "Thank you, Jungkook. I really appreciate it; oh and take care of my car!" You smile from outside the window looking in, about to leave when you reach for your phone and hand it to him.

His heart leaps from his chest. That's it? So easy? He lags for a moment, staring at your arm that was outstretched to him. "So you can tell me when my car is ready."

Oh.

"OH. Yeah. Of course." he enters in his information before handing it back to you, and the sight of your bouncy steps in your high heels and sunglasses is the last he sees of you before he makes his way back to the shop.

-

Walking into the garage he picks up an oil cloth that he knows he'll need soon. Startled, Jungkook's hand grabs his chest as Yoongi pops up from behind the car, the opened trunk shielding him from sight before. Grease-covered hands and stained attire are what he notices before his displeased expression.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't get in the front seat and back this car over you." He threatens, not a smile in sight except for the big one that spreads across Jungkook's apologetic face. "Because I'll work overtime for a week, unpaid."

Yoongi taps the wrench in his palm, thinking about it. "You were on the clock, Jeon. Make it two."

"Deal."

The two round the car to the open hood to get a better look at the engine. "Was it at least worth it? I know you've had your eyes on her since she first came in with that guy like two years ago."

"She's funny and she's beautiful. It's so over for me." Yoongi chuckles, reaching his hand into the hood, and starting the repairs. "Just ask her out, I don't see what the big deal is." He shrugs and Jungkook's head slowly turns, "This could be the love of my life, Yoongi. One wrong move and I lose my one chance, all my greatest dreams and aspirations-" Yoongi playfully closes the hood on Jungkooks fingers to shut him up.

"Alright Shakespeare, now help me get this engine out."

--

A week goes by when you are flipping through a magazine, 'What's the perfect job for you' the letters read and surprise surprise you got a model. You smiled as you placed the magazine back down on the craft services table as the photographer called you over to the center to resume the shoot.

This was for the cover of Serpahine, thankfully you weren't as nervous this time around as you were three years ago when it was your first time.

You'd been in the modelling world for a few years now, you got into it on a whim not expecting to really go anywhere with it, but the people loved you. You were only 19 when you went to your first shoot for a local retail store, fast forward six years and you'd actually driven past a billboard with your face on it this morning.

Once the shoot was done you finally reconnected with your beloved phone and saw there was a message from an unsaved number. "Your car is ready for pick up." Ah, finally.

You were sick of carpooling and hiring drivers this week, all you wanted was to finally get back behind the wheel of your own car.

The evening hadn't escaped you just yet. The sun was still out but slowly setting and casting an orange hue as you got out of the car in front of Wheeley's and dismissed them.

You could already see Jungkook from where you stood outside of the garage. Leant over the hood of another car, sleeves rolled up and tattoos on display. Just when he couldn't get any hotter.

You knocked on the wall, not sure if you could enter. He looks up with a glance before doing an immediate double take and stands to his full height. He welcomes you with a soft smile and gestures you over.

You approached him slowly, the last thing you wanted was to eat shit and land on the greasy floors in front of him.

The closer you got, the more intense his gaze became, "Wow, you look amazing." Jungkook compliments almost speechless. It was like you'd gotten even prettier from the last time he'd seen you.

Instinctively, you play with the chain of your white gold orchid necklace. It was just something you did when you were flattered or shy, in this case, a bit of both.

"Ahem." Neither of you had any idea where Yoongi had come from but he spawned and reminded Jungkook to stay focused before he vanished back into his office.

"Right. So. We assessed the damage to your engine, and the overheating engine caused the gasket to blow, causing the coolant and the oil to start mixing which is very bad." You could tell he was dumbing down the words for you and you had to stop yourself from chewing on your lower lip as he talked.

He's so hot when he talks about cars and stuff. "Are you following?" What? You thought you were doing such a good job of listening. He continued to explain what had been done and import fees and blah blah blah.

You weren't listening to a damn thing he was saying and Jungkook could tell. If he was being honest, he was hardly listening to himself, brain so warped on the fact that this was probably the last time he'd see you for a long time.

He walked you over to the register, "With the coverage you get from guardian auto insurance it reduces your initial price from 2,785.61 to 875.50." You blinked, guardian auto insurance. You had no memory of buying that, which is why you assumed your dad did and thank god for that.

Not that you couldn't afford the initial price but who would want to spend money on boring car stuff when they could go shopping? You paid and then remembered something.

"Here's your tip, for the Lyft." You smile handing him a hundred-dollar bill and he just smiles, not reaching for the money. "Aren't you gonna take it?" He shakes his head. "The car did all the work, all I did was steer. Besides, if I were you, I'd consider putting my money towards a better car."

Your hand falters, and you pout. "What's wrong with my Magma GRT?"

"I hate to say it, but this is the worst car money can buy. I see about three of these every week. For starters, the engineering of it is shit, it makes our job ten times harder. Not to mention it was wired by preschoolers, the batteries are cheap and I can guarantee you, your transmission is gonna blow sometime in the next year."

You stood there, jaw dropped.

"That's not true." You argue, feeling defensive over your sweet baby.

Jungkook guides you over to the hood of the car he had just been working on. "I'll take everything back if you can show me where the engine is."

You stood there for a solid minute, really giving it hard thought. "It's right here." You hold up the middle finger in front of his face before walking away and he laughs taking long strides to catch up to your furious pace.

"Where is my car, anyway?" Jungkook leads you around the back where the completed cars sit with a ticket on the windshield. He watched you excitedly hop into the driver's seat and run your hands over the wheel, then touching the fuzzy orchids that hung from your mirror.

You started it up and she sounded better than ever. You got out and fought the urge to do a little dance but you lost. It was cute, adorable really. "Thank you!" Without even thinking you placed a quick peck on his cheek before you returned to your car, honking at him twice before you sped off.

His fingers lightly grazed the cheek your lips had just met. His vision started to blur, he was about to faint. And then the doom settled in his stomach, you were gone.

--

"Let's take 5 everyone. Y/n, a minute." The head photographer calls you over. "What's going on? You seem out of it, and you can't be out of it. Not until this shoot is done, at least. I've got bills to pay too."

It's been a few weeks since you'd gotten your car fixed but now everything else felt broken. Suddenly a new outfit didn't put a smile on your face, and the buzz you got from a night out at the bar didn't compare to the flames you felt with the few moments you had with that pretty mechanic.

You shake away the thoughts and apologize, reassuring him that you'd get your head back in the game.

--

It's been a month.

He hasn't texted you, which isn't crazy considering you gave him your number for repair purposes only. Though it did make you sad to know he ignored the resource he had to contact you. Then again the phone did work both ways.

You were spiralling, just a tad.

Besides, you didn't want to text him, you needed to see him, but you can't just show up to a mechanic for no reason...

You paced around your room until your gaze landed on your car keys.

You shake your head.

No.

That's crazy.

You grab the keys anyway.

After a quick Google search, you concluded that this evening you would be making an impromptu trip to the gas station. Your tank holds about 30 liters so you pumped it with 35.

Once you got back in the car, just as Google said, your check engine light was on. At least this time it wasn't red.

"Oh no, looks like I've gotta get a check-up."

-

You pulled onto the lot with a mischievous grin, you weren't sure how you were going to pull this off but you had to.

Parking outside the open garage, you locked the car before walking in, looking around for any signs of anyone but it was empty--

"Back so soon?" You turn, face to face with the same face you'd been wanting to see for weeks. "Well yeah, I-"

The loud engine of that familiar tow truck came roaring up the driveway. A loud horn caught your attention. "Come on Jeon, roadside call ain't gonna solve itself!" Scooter shouts and Jungkook visibly gulps, looking between the two of you with a panicked gaze.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. Yoongi is in his office, he can help you."

Your shoulders slumped and your pout was prominent. Let this be the first and last time you ever stuck your neck out for a man.

-

A few days had passed when Jungkook sent you the invoice for your repairs. Your eyes analyzed the familiar statement of reduction showing that Guardian Auto Insurance saved you another 600 dollars.

You sighed.

You completed the transaction online and made sure to avoid him at all costs when you picked up your car. Unable to face him after he had blown you off. Even though you know it wasn't intentional, it was still humiliating.

The following weeks may not have been anything special for you but were most certainly eventful for Yerin. "I warned you not to dance on top of that bar." You joke as you walk Yerin out of the emergency room with a slight hangover while she has a cast on her left arm.

After driving her back to her place, not a silent ride at that, even on three different pain killers she was still whining about this curb and that curb, 'watch out for that pedestrian' she would yell as if you didn't have eyes.

"How am I supposed to get to work tomorrow." She sulks, resting her cast on a nearby couch cushion. "I can take you." You offer and she glares, "I guess I wasn't clear. I need to make it in one piece." You rolled your eyes.

"I'll just take my car, driving with one hand can't be that hard." She shrugs.

"It's not, but you're not left-handed. It's a bad idea." You warn but she is more stubborn than you are.

-

It was only around 10 am the following morning when you received a message from Yerin. She attached an image of her car, it looked normal aside from the missing side mirror.

Oh boy.

'I told you so.' You send her and she replies with a middle finger.

'Now it's your turn to go to Wheeley's and make sure to use your guardian auto insurance. Saves a ton.'

She gives you a thumbs up.

Talking about that shop made your mind wander. You wonder how Jungkook was doing. It's been a while since you last saw him. Sometimes you regret not sticking around for him to come back, or even avoiding him to pick up your car.

But maybe this was for the best.

Besides, you were just a customer. One of many. You're sure he's forgotten all about you.

-

Your phone buzzes once, then twice, pulling you out of the realm of peace and tranquillity that your nap had rolled you into. You'd fallen asleep on the couch while reruns of your favourite movie passed by on your screen. "Hello?"

"Guardian Auto Insurance my ass. I was charged $450. I asked Yoongi to double check and he said apparently that doesn't even exist." Slowly sitting up, you try to make sense of it.

How's that possible? If it doesn't exist then who made it up?-

Oh shit.

You quickly finish the call with Yerin, and check the time. The shop would close in about an hour, you had little time to get ready before you made your way there.

Pulling into the driveway so late at night made your headlights seem like spotlights, bouncing off every reflective surface in sight. Catching Jungkook's attention as he wasn't expecting anyone this late at night.

In his fitted jumpsuit, he watched the car pull up closer to the garage, shining the bright light in his face until the engine was shut off. He'd seen this car hundreds of times. He couldn't get his hopes up, but the second your red bottoms hit the concrete his heart was pounding.

You were headed right towards him.

You looked angry- no, upset, no-

"When were you gonna tell me that there's really no Guardian Auto Insurance and that you've been covering 80% of my costs out of your own pocket?" You definitely sounded angry but your gaze seemed... soft.

You stopped right in front of him, face to face. Your breathing was heavy and your brows furrowed as your eyes danced between both of his deep brown, apologetic ones. "I-"

"Just shut up." Grabbing a gentle hold of his cheeks in your hands, you pulled his lips down to meet yours. It took Jungkook a second to process what was going on but once his brain caught up, so did his hands.

He held you securely at the waist, tugging you into him until your front was against his and he worked his tongue with yours. Your heads tilted slightly to deepen the kiss.

You always knew he'd be a great kisser, but this was taking your breath away. Literally. You pulled away from him, lungs reaching for a much-needed dose of oxygen while Jungkook did the same. His gaze was much darker.

"You and this stupid uniform. I want to finally see what's underneath-" Reaching for his buttons, you're able to get the first four undone with a few stray kisses to his neck that send Jungkook absolutely reeling. A soft moan escapes him before he pulls back.

"Wait. Wait, I have something for you." He disappears into one of the offices before coming back with a bouquet of orchids. Your gasp is genuine.

"Yoongi said a friend of yours was in the shop earlier and I'd already been thinking about you non-stop so I just took it as a sign to reach out. I was actually going to bring these to you later once the shop closed. I noticed you had orchids on your necklace and in your car so I just thought you'd like them." You give them a sniff. "I love them. They were actually my mom's favourite flower before she passed."

He frowns, "I'm sorry to hear that," you give him a sad smile, "Thank you, it means a lot. Really. But we can talk about that later," You place the flowers behind you on the trunk of the car. Jungkook grins.

"You're very direct aren't you." You shrug. "You'll get used to it."

He walks up to you, looking down at you with the six inches his head carried over yours. "Oh, will I?" You nod with unwavering confidence. "Unless you can't handle it-" A big, gentle hand is placed around your neck, no pressure applied until he speaks, "I'm not the one who needs to be worried about."

With that said he slowly sinks himself to his knees, big hands reaching under your ruffled skirt, taking two handfuls of your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. You gasp as you feel him slowly drag a finger along the soaked fabric of your panties.

"Please, Jungkook." The harmonious sound of you begging rattled him to his core. With no self-restraint, he would do anything you asked. "Don't worry princess, I've got you. Gonna take good care of you." he pulls down the only thing keeping him from your soaked cunt and a low growl rumbles in his chest at the sight.

He helps you to step out of your panties with your heels still on, he couldn't let your bare feet touch the floors. You open your hand for the garment but you roll your eyes at the sight of him pocketing them in his uniform. You already know you'll never see them again and you accept it.

He has you bunch up your skirt around your waist for better sight. Smoothly he places one leg over his shoulder while your body rests against the trunk of the car. The grip he holds on your left thigh is tight enough to make your brain spin and surely marks will follow.

"See. I always knew I'd have you on your knees for me one d-AY. Oh fuck!" Jungkook can't be bothered to bark back at you not when he has an insatiable appetite and a full meal right in front of him.

His jaw worked itself as he lapped up at your center. Tongue long and warm, licking every square inch of you until you couldn't take it, hands reaching desperately for his hair and he groaned.

Once he finally had you where he wanted you, reduced to nothing but begs and whimpers, he allowed his tongue to flick over your clit repeatedly, until he felt half of your body weight fall onto his right shoulder for a moment.

You could hardly even keep yourself up. He was going to make sure you remembered this. "Oh shit! P-please Jungkook. M'So close." He groans, his right hand pressing down on the solid bulge in his pants for a little relief.

Your slick was running down his chin, some even down the sides of his neck as he worked you with his tongue. Writhing nonstop, though this wouldn't be an issue if he had a better environment. He'd have you pinned and unable to run from him.

To finish you off he let his teeth graze so lightly over your clit, you almost wouldn't feel it had he not heightened your senses to such an extreme with his intricate pussy eating.

You came with his name falling off your lips.

Your face turns beet red as he tells you to look down at the mess you made on the ground below you. "What were you saying earlier? Something about me being on my knees for you-"

"Just fuck me already." Jungkook stands back up to his full height, clicking his tongue with tsk' sounds. "I pay for your repairs, I buy you flowers, I make you cum and this is how you talk to me? Where are your manners." Jungkook adjusts your skirt so it's back in place and he picks you up to sit on the trunk.

"Besides. I'm not fucking you in here. I wanna take you out first." You smile at that, "Finally, a smile." He remarks, and your body limps forward naturally, your arms wrapping around his neck while your head settles in the crook of his neck and your eyes flutter shut. You ignore his previous statement until he whispers in your ears. "You do realize the garage was open this whole time, and anyone who drove by got a front-row show?" Your eyes shoot open.

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[mindboogling]

can we get some solace siblings headcanons??

Sure! :]

Rio Solace

Like her name implies, she's usually the chill one - like a calm river.

After Sebastian's trial, she pursued forensic science in her career field.

She was a major theatre fan in high school and even as an adult. When you hand her the AUX chord, she plays show tunes. Notable favorite musicals: Six, Wicked, Fun Home, Moulin Rouge, Prom, and In The Heights. But there's a multitude of more. (Sebastian missed all of the 4 Horses of the Apocalypse: Hamilton, Heathers, Dear Evan Hansen, and Be More Chill while he was gone and that is crazy to her.)

She's married to her wife, who is also a lawyer! (Possibly had helped the Solace family gain a larger settlement for Sebastian's innocence post-death sentence?)

Speaking of her wife, Sebastian was gone when gay marriage was legalized, but since his sister came out to him way early on, he's more surprised that gay marriage is legal than his sister being gay herself.

She doesn't live with her mom anymore, but when Sebastian was brought up, she knew she had to be there for her family.

She knows the most Spanish among her siblings since she had to help their mom translate. She and her siblings are the second generation of a Chilean-American immigrant family.

Gabriel Solace

He appears much more normal next to his siblings, but if you look in his room, his special interests are A LOT more apparent.

As a kid, he always liked to build things - He enjoys taking things apart and putting them back together. That being said, he loves Legos, Beyblades, Transformers, Gundam, model planes, etc.

He is the casual anime fan of the house. He likes mecha, but he can appreciate a good show he can put on in the background while he assembles what he's building.

His music taste is much more diverse than his siblings, but his taste includes more Alternative/Indie and Electronic Dance Music. Notable artists: Mitski, The Living Tombstone, Chappell Roan.

He does introduce his music, shows, and movies to Sebastian.

When his name is shortened, it's "Gabri" (pronounced "GAHB-RI") over "Gabe".

Thanks to the settlement they acquired from Sebastian's revised trial, he goes to engineering school! His side project is making a body for p.AI.nter.

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[taesanrot]

[songs for women] anton x reader | 0.6k words drabble, musician!anton, best friends to ???, childhood friends au, implied college au, mutual pining note. a short lil thing i found from a few months ago in my drafts <3 wrote it for the beginning of fall. may turn this into a full length fic but i wanted to put this out for now bc i really like it.

now playing: songs for women by frank ocean

"don't even listen to the songs i record, but she be bangin' that drake in my car ... all damn day long, it's like she never heard of me, heard of me."

turning his key in the ignition, anton hears his car engine thrum as it comes alive. the fall air is warm and balmy and you’re sitting in the passenger seat, head propped on your hand as you gaze out the window.

“wanna roll it down?” anton’s soft voice coaxes you back to reality and you turn to look at him with a grin on your face, nodding excitedly. he smiles softly as he watches you turn the handle and let the fresh air into anton’s old four door sedan.

plugging the aux cord into the his phone, anton bumps your shoulder, handing you the glowing screen.

you gingerly take the phone out of his hands, fingers typing away in the search bar of his spotify app to queue a song.

turning towards the road, anton finally eases his foot onto the pedal, and the car’s wheels squeal slightly as he turns out of his driveway into the neighborhood’s winding roads.

the citrus colored leaves bring a fond smile to his face, and the breeze from your open window tickles his face and ruffles his hair.

old memories play through anton’s mind, flashes of long bike rides and pool days with you. you’re weaved into all of the moments he holds close to his heart, and he thinks it’ll always feel this way.

anton doesn’t think the jumps and twists in his stomach when he’s around you will ever fade. not when you smile so brightly at him, or laugh so prettily at his dumb jokes.

the two of you aren’t kids anymore, you’ve outgrown your bicycle helmets and kiddie pools. anton is an upcoming singer and you’re about to graduate college. but somehow whenever you end up in your hometown again, it’s like you’re teenagers again. you spend hours in the old coffee shop that was your favorite studying spot for finals, and you go to the same drive in ice cream parlor.

the song that you handpicked floods anton’s ears as his hand glides across the steering wheel. with a sigh and roll of his eyes, he looks over at you.

“park wonbin again? seriously?” you laugh at his dismay, fingers turning the dial to increase the volume. anton groans in response, his adam’s apple moving under the skin of his neck. your eyes catch it for a second, brain forming an unusually erotic thought at the sight. you’re brought back to earth by the sound of anton’s voice again.

“i’m starting to think you don’t listen to anything else.” tucking some hair behind your eyes, you grin at your best friend.

“what else do i need besides wonbin?”

“you know, other people would kill to be driven around by me, and you refuse to even listen to my songs.” it’s your turn to roll your eyes, but you do so with another cheerful laugh.

“someone’s gotta keep you humble.” you chide, shoving anton’s shoulder playfully.

as anton trains his focus back to the road, he looks over at you one more time, just for him. you’re laying your cheek against the car door and watching the trees pass. the wind sweeps your hair into something of a halo, and the setting sun makes you look like an angel glowing in the sky.

a familiar thought plagues the boy’s mind again. anton wonders if you’ll ever sit down and listen to some of his songs, like really listen to them. maybe one day you’ll see past the playful melodies and soft guitar and hear his songs for what they really are:

love letters to you.

[ln4bub]

Can I get 48,53 and 58 with Lando? Make it extra spicy

This idea has been floating in my head along with another request for a while and since Lando won the vote, this is the post you guys are getting &lt;3

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

You had always been a passenger princess, willing to settle for the aux and directions. So it was lucky that Lando hated being a passenger, loving the control he had behind the wheel. The both of you were in America before the start of the triple header, enjoying a little time away from racing. You had spent the day exploring, and now Lando was driving you back to the hotel. You loved the quality time you could spend together, especially when Lando looked as good as he did today.

He’d worn a white t-shirt that emphasised his biceps with a pair of baggy black jeans. His sunglasses and fresh haircut made him look disgustingly handsome and you knew it. The rumble of the engine had coaxed you to sleep, your visions full of Lando. His large hands wrapped around a water bottle, his lips around the neck. A small drop of sweat sliding down his neck, or the way his hand had rested on your thigh whenever you sat. A small pothole jolted you awake, your head lightly bumping the window.

“Sorry baby, did I wake you up?” Lando asks, his hand coming once again to rest on your thigh. You hum quietly, not fully conscious yet. You stretch your legs in your seat as best as you can, groaning at the relief. “Were you dreaming about me Y/N?” Lando questions, glancing over at you. “Maybe,” you mumble shyly, “Why are you asking?” Lando smiles, “Just sounded like you were.” He explains, shooting a wink your way and making the heat rise to your cheeks.

You check the screen on the dashboard, realising you’re still 45 minutes from the hotel. You settle back into your seat, the throbbing between your legs from your dreams becoming more prominent. You squirm slightly, attempting to relieve the pressure. Watching Lando as he drives doesn’t help your cause, admiring his arms resting against the door and the way his fingers wrap around the steering wheel. Lando can see your struggle, the way you begin to fidget as your eyes roam his body.

“Sweetheart stop squirming, you’re distracting me when I’m trying to drive.” He reprimands, but the tone of his voice only drives you crazier. He notices the way your breath hitches and he chuckles. “Wow, so desperate that just me being demanding turns you on. Such a slut aren’t you?” He asks, his thumb beginning to rub circles against the skin of your thigh. You nod, legs squeezing together but Lando’s hand stops you.

“If I have to pull over you won’t be able to walk for the next week, and you don’t want to have to explain that to the paddock do you baby?” He asks mockingly, his hand swatting your thigh. You whimper at the feeling, stuttering out a meagre “Please Lando.” He laughs at you, the sound sending shivers across your skin. “I did warn you.” He says ominously before turning off the highway. “You’re lucky I know my way around baby or else we’d have an audience.” Lando huffs, eventually pulling the car to stop in a secluded area.

“You’d like that though wouldn’t you?” He asks, undoing his seatbelt and sliding his seat backwards. “You’d like it if people could see what I do to you, how dumb you get for my cock.” Lando reaches over and undoes your seatbelt before pulling you into his lap. You feel his hard cock underneath you, your body subconsciously grinding against him for friction. His hand slaps your ass, halting your movements. “Stop being so fucking greedy, I didn’t say you could do that.” He whispers, a hand coming to wrap around your throat. “I’m gonna have to punish you for not listening to me my love,” He says mockingly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Get out of the car.”

Your mouth drops open at his request and he just raises an eyebrow at you. “Did I stutter, get out of the car, now.” He tells you slowly. You scramble to get out, Lando following after you. He shuts the driver door before pushing you against it. “Such an eager whore, I knew you’d get off on the risk. Want to chance it baby? See if anyone spots you stuffed full of my cock?” Lando asks, placing kisses to your neck in between his sentences.

“God yes, please Lando.” You whine, hips bucking against his leg. He chuckles at your desperation before sliding down to his knees. His hand smooths over your leg as he places it over his shoulder, spreading you open for him. “I want you to look at me and only me, if I see those pretty eyes close then I’m gonna stop.” He tells you, fingers dragging your underwear down your legs. He slides his hands up your legs, slipping them around to rest against your ass. He pulls you towards his mouth, latching onto your pussy and groaning at your wetness.

Lando swirls his tongue around your clit, flicking and sucking. Your hips buck away from his mouth at the onslaught of stimulation but his hands force you against him. His right hand pulls away only to come back down with force, leaving a stinging sensation to travel down across your ass. The pain is a reminder of his warning, don't look away and don't close your eyes. Your head drops to watch his actions, finding him already staring back at you. His stare pierces yours, his eyelids fluttering slightly with every hum that leaves his mouth at the taste of you. You can barely make out his eyes in the dark given the way his pupils are blown with lust, but they sparkle in the slight moonlight with every movement of his head.

Your legs start to close around Lando's head, his tongue dipping in and out of your entrance, pulling more of your juices from you. He scrapes his teeth lightly over your clit, the sharp sting causing your knees to buckle. Lando's hands are the only thing holding you up as you cum, his tongue not stopping as it draws an intense orgasm from you. Lando kisses your clit, giving one last suck to your entrance and causing you to moan out his name. He stands from his kneeling position, lips glistening with your cum. You pull his face to you, tongue sliding into his mouth to taste yourself. He groans into the kiss, your hand cupping the bulge in his jeans. "Fuck baby, pull me out." He instructs, leaning his hips back to give you better access before continuing to kiss you. Your fingers fumble with his zipper, eventually dragging it down and pulling his jeans down enough to gain access to his cock.

He's heavy in your hand, hot and throbbing. His cock twitches at your touch, your hands cold from their perch on the car. His jaw drops as you begin to pump your hand, groaning in your ear as he drops his head to your shoulder. "Oh god Y/N, so good to me." He moans, leaning to muffle his sounds against your neck. "Can't wait anymore babe, go stand in front of the car." He tells you, pulling your hand off of him. You do as he says, standing in front of the bonnet of the car. Lando appears in front of you, "Bend over." You hesitate, causing Lando to raise an eyebrow. "I'm not kidding." He grabs you by the hips, folding you over the front of the car. You whine out at the feeling of the cold exterior against your exposed skin, goosebumps travelling over your body.

Lando glides his cock through your folds, coating it with your wetness before sliding in. Your back arches at the intrusion, walls fluttering as a moan escapes your lips. He doesn't hold back, slamming his hips against yours, a hand on your own to prevent you hitting the car itself. Your whines and moans spill out of you uncontrollably, Lando's cock hitting the perfect spot. "Yeah? Right there baby? That feel good?" Lando asks, his hand coming to pull your hair. Your back is forced into an arch, Lando's large hand covering your mouth. "I know it feels so fucking good Y/N, but I don't want to get caught so I'm gonna need you to be a good girl for me and keep quiet, can you do that?" He hums, hips not stopping their brutal pace. You nod against his hold, feeling a second orgasm brewing in your stomach. "Ohhh I can feel how close you are, do you wanna cum for me?" He asks, pressing you gently against the car.

"Please Lando, wanna cum f'you, please." You babble, legs barely holding you up at this point. "Such a good girl, don't even have to tell you to beg." Lando groans, his hips stuttering against your own. "Cum for me, soak me baby come on, need it." He whines, slamming into your g-spot as you cum around his cock. Your eyes roll back, thighs shaking, jaw falling open. "There we go, let it happen. You feel amazing, oh god." Lando whines, barely managing to fuck you through your orgasm as he holds back his own. Before you can comprehend what's happening, still experiencing aftershocks, Lando pulls out and spins you around. You drop to your knees, mouth open and tongue out as he pumps his cock. Your cum lubricates his dick, the lewd wet sounds filling the air as his cum spills out. Ropes of it hit your tongue, some missing and landing on your cheeks and chin. His knees buckle slightly with the force of his orgasm, groans of your name leaving his lips.

You wrap your lips around his cock, sucking the tip until you can't pull any more cum from him. He whimpers in sensitivity as you remove your mouth, the cold air hitting his wet cock. "Swallow baby." He instructs, his fingers scooping up any of his load that missed your tongue. He taps against your lips with those fingers, your tongue swirling around them to clean them off. You moan lightly at the salty taste, Lando leaning down to kiss your lips in thanks. "Get back in the car, my hoodie's on the seat for you." He tells you, wrapping his hand in yours to pull you up. The rest of the journey is uneventful, you drifting back to sleep peacefully as Lando glances over to you with a smile; grateful for the girl by his side.

[poetlus]

ROARING ENGINES — streetracer!dabi x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: Your boyfriend, a streetracing!Dabi, invites you to take a ride with him, which ends in an annoyingly teasing makeout session.

WARNINGS: unsafe driving, needy dabi (<3), slightly suggestive, reader is able to fit in dabi’s lap with ease— i apologize for the lack of plus-sized inclusivity; however, i couldn’t pass up this request!! i am a minor. do NOT interact if you are a stricly mdni account.

W/C: 1.7k

A/N: oh. my days. i love this so bad. I LOVE THIS SO BAD!!!! this was an amazing experience. one of the scenes in this fic was inspired by this scene in fast n furious. UGH. love. anywho, requested by @sepptember , proofread by @ikn9wyou!! follow auggie and alani. they have wonderful ideas.

Your boyfriend wasn’t one for showing off— he was reserved. Didn’t care for most people’s opinions. Unless he was on the road. When Dabi’s speeding down the highway, he wants everyone to hear. Especially you.

You were sitting on your apartment couch, the blue light from the TV shining on your face. You weren’t really even watching the show that was on, moreso doom scrolling through various apps— opening and closing them as though they were a fridge and you were hoping more food would magically appear.

Unfortunately, nothing caught your eye.

You let out a loud sigh, changing positions so you were laying down now. That’s when you heard it.

An engine revved from outside of your apartment complex, loud enough to make you wince at the sound. Then, you got a text.

Butterflies formed in your stomach— an often occurrence when it came to Dabi. Despite him literally being your boyfriend, he never failed to make your stomach do cartwheels any time you even thought about being around him. Your thumbs hovered over your phone, thinking about what to say.

Within seconds, the man hearted your message, as if he was waiting on the chat for you to respond. Your heart fluttered as you shot up from your spot on the couch, rushing to your bedroom to find something to wear.

After an eternity of searching and creating a mess of clothes on your floor, you had found the perfect outfit. You grabbed your phone and left your apartment, locking the door on your way out.

The elevator ride down to the first floor felt 50 years longer than normal— which was both good and bad; good because you got time to calm your stupid nerves, and bad because you didn’t want to wait to see your boyfriend any longer. As soon as you heard the “ding!”, indicating that the elevator had reached the bottom floor, you practically charged out of the building, looking for Dabi’s car.

There it was, the navy blue Camaro ZL1– bass bumping and engine roaring. That was definitely him. You hurried to the passenger door. Dabi rolled down his tinted windows. His cyan eyes seemingly glowed in the streetlight and you swore you were being seduced.

“Gonna get in?” His slightly raspy voice broke the silence.

You carefully opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. Dabi looked at you, awaiting something. You gave him a slightly confused look, likely muddied by the darkness of the night.

“Well? Where’s my kiss, huh?” He asked you, a hint of impatience sewn into his tone. You giggled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He huffed, apparently not satisfied.

“What was that about?” You asked him.

“Nothin��.” The white haired man brushed it off and tossed you his phone. “You’re on aux.” He told you, you put on one of your favorite playlists— one that consisted of erotic songs. When you pressed the shuffle button, Poison by Brent Faiyaz began playing.

As the song began, Dabi shifted gears from neutral to drive and carefully pulled away from the cramped street.

His caution didn’t last long, though. As soon as he was out of the packed road, he sped up. His engine revved loudly as he did so and he moved his hand from the stick shift to the knob of the radio. He turned the knob to the right, making the music louder. After adjusting it to his liking, he rested his free hand on your thigh. His other was controlling the wheel, though his attention wasn’t fully on it. He was occupied with you. He watched as you hung your head slightly out of the open window, wind blowing your hair out of your face and giving him a perfect view of your features.

How can a singular human being be so flawless?

The man was enamored by you. In his eyes, you were a spectacle. A trophy that he, somehow, had won. And goddamn, was he proud of his trophy.

You looked to see him staring right back at you, making butterflies erupt yet again. In order to hide your fluster, you snapped your fingers at him.

“Eyes back on the road, Dabi.” He hummed in response and looked forward. You faced towards the window again, feeling the cool air on your cheeks. Dabi sped up as the song ended and the next one played. Slow Dancing in the Dark by Joji.

As the engine of his car became white noise, you asked Dabi where you were going.

“Dunno,” He said nonchalantly. “Just driving.” You couldn’t help but smile at Dabi’s voice. You’d play it on repeat if you could.

You began singing along to the radio, making Dabi chuckle. He joined in quietly, unintentionally harmonizing with you.

“Can’t you see? I don’t want to slow dance,” The two of you sang. “In the dark.”

The song continued and you two made conversation, talking about your days and how the two of you missed each other.

“Sorry ‘m so busy, babe.” He apologized. “A lot’s going on with the League right now.” You accepted his apology, because truthfully, that didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was here, with you, in this moment.

The conversation carried on for another 20 minutes, and by now, you were out of the city. Flat, dark farmland stretched out as far as the eye could see. You looked up at the sky from your window— without the light pollution, everything was darker, causing the stars to shine brighter. You stared in awe for a moment at the gorgeous things, mesmerized.

Dabi, finally out of city limits, sped up to 160. You could feel your stomach drop as he sped up. You rolled your window up and said, “Dabi, slow down.” The man smirked.

“Why, ya scared?” He sped up to 180 in a matter of seconds.

“Yes, I am!” You retorted. He pouted mockingly.

“Awh, poor thing.” 185. You smack his arm lightly, making him laugh once more. He finally slowed down. Then, he patted his lap, confusing you slightly. “Well? C’mon.”

“Yeah, right.” You rolled your eyes at him. “While you’re driving?”

“What??” He asks, trying to sound innocent. “I mean it. C’mere.” His eyes were still fixated on the road.

Slightly awkwardly, you crawled over the center console and into his lap— your back was against the door and your head facing his. You smelled his cologne, a hint of vanilla and cinnamon.

Playfully, you dug your nose into the crook of his neck, trying to breathe in all of his scent. He smiled. “You’re ticklin’ me, Y/N.”

“I can’t help it,” you said with your head still buried. “You smell so good!” Another laugh was shared and it was quiet for the moment, the two of you relishing in one another’s peace. That’s when you got your grand idea.

You were going to tease him.

You planted a light kiss on his collarbone, and then another on his neck, and then another on his jaw. You continued this pattern for a minute or two, giving all of your attention to his neck and jaw. Once you seemed to be done, he looked down owards you, expecting you to kiss his lips, but you didn't. Instead, you kissed his cheek and went back to breathing in his scent.

“Y/N.” He said quietly.

“Hm?”

“My lips.” It was as if he thought you forgot, as if he was reminding you; you didn’t forget, though. You smiled semi-mischievously, realizing he hadn’t picked up on your teasing.

You looked up at him again and acted as though you were going to kiss him. To catch him off guard, you paused right before you did so and pecked the corner of his mouth. His face morphed from content to annoyance.

“What?” You tried to sound pure and innocent, as if you didn’t know what you were doing.

“You know what. Kiss my lips.” You couldn’t hide your smirk as he spoke. He almost sounded needy, like he had to have you kiss his lips. You pretended to think for a second. Then, you kissed the corner of his mouth again. He leaned into you this time, trying to make you kiss his lips, but to no avail. You dodged his efforts and continued to pepper smooches everywhere but his mouth.

Dabi groaned, eyeing you with an even more annoyed look than before.

“I don’t want to beg, Y/N, kiss my lips.” He almost demanded. “Not my neck, not my cheek, my lips.” You let out a laugh.

“But it’s so fun when you beg!”

“It’s not fun for me..” He grumbled. You almost felt bad, like you were actually doing something wrong by not kissing him on the mouth— not that that would stop you. When you wanted to do something, you were determined. And that something just so happened to be riling up your boyfriend.

So, you continued kissing him, getting ever so close to his mouth just to pull away at the last second. You could tell Dabi was getting frustrated, and that just made the experience all the more enjoyable. After a few more failed attempts of trying to make out with you, Dabi sighed loudly and sped up his vehicle once again.

“You are such a brat.” He hissed. “Stop teasing me.”

“Why? Is it working?”

“No— ‘ts not working. Cut it out.” Dabi denied.

“Seems like it is..” You mumbled to yourself.

“Only thing it’s doing is pissing me off.” You smiled smugly and cupped his face in your hand.

“Awh, I’m sorry baby.” You mocked his tone from earlier. Finally, you slowly kissed his lips, this time not pulling away.

Dabi leaned into you, perhaps more needily than he intended. He was starving for your touch. Your soft lips on his. His tongue easily slid into your mouth, intertwining with yours.

This man was yearning for you. You knew he wanted you, but damn, you didn’t know he wanted you this badly.

Your hands ran through Dabi’s surprisingly soft hair, massaging his scalp slightly. He was upset he couldn’t give you all of his undivided attention, what with also having to focus on the road. So, he did what any horny guy would do. He pulled over to the side of the road and effortlessly shifted your hips so now you were straddling him.

“Think it’s time to get you back for what you did, love.” He sighed almost maliciously. You were in for a ride, and you had no one to blame but yourself.

🏷️’s : @rueclfer , @seneon !

[rebelliousmuse]

Yummy – T.Y.

This one is for the girls that are totally in love with Tara, like me.

Tara x fem!reader

Warning: public f!ngering.

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The door creaked open, revealing Tara framed in the warm glow of the hallway light. A playful smile tugged at the corners of her lips, her eyes sparkling with a familiar warmth. "Hey there, pretty girl," she said.

"Hi, gorgeous," you countered, pulling her close by the waist. The scent of her cherry lip balm mixed with her delicious perfume tickled your nose as you leaned in. The kiss started slow. Her lips were soft and warm against yours. You deepened the kiss slightly, while she felt a playful tug on her lower lip before you pulled away.

Being a few inches taller, you looked down at her. The way she tilted her head back to meet your gaze made your stomach erupt in butterflies. Her eyes seemed to darken, taking on that doe-eyed look that always left you weak.

"Ready to conquer the mall?" you asked, extending your hand towards her.

Her cheeks flushed a rosy pink, spreading all the way to the tips of her ears. A wide smile bloomed on her face, and with a small nod, she slipped her warm hand into yours. As you unlocked the passenger door, you couldn't help but notice her outfit. Tiny shorts, revealing a hint of her lower back tattoo, paired with a flowy tank top that teased a peek of cleavage. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail.

A quick lick of your lip betrayed your appreciation for her style, but you managed to stammer out a compliment, "Looking amazing today, love."

She hopped into the car, humming along to the first notes of a song that filled the air as soon as she plugged in the aux cord. You slid into the driver's seat, a grin mirroring hers as you threw the car into gear.

---

You pulled into a parking spot with a practiced ease, the engine sighing to a stop. With a flourish, you pushed open your car door, shutting it behind you, then you went for her car door, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

"Thank you, babe," she chirped. She leaned in, peppering your lips with a quick kiss after hopping out.

The mall buzzed with the controlled ‘chaos’ of a Wednesday afternoon. Her eyes darted from store to store. Her fingers brushed the soft cashmere of a sweater in one store, lingered on the beadwork of a dress in another. A frown creased her brow as she held a sequined top at arm's length.

You watched her with silent adoration, feeling your heart swelling with a love that always intensified when you saw her this happy. The truth was, you didn't mind that you were here for a specific dress. Witnessing her joy as she explored different styles, the way her eyes lit up when she found something she loved, that was the real reward.

---

The fitting room door swung open, revealing Tara bathed in the soft glow of the changing room light. A gasp escaped your lips as she emerged, a vision in a shimmering silver dress that clung to her curves like a second skin. The fabric cascaded down her toned legs, highlighting the way the muscles played beneath the surface as she shifted her weight.

"Wow," you breathed. Her eyes sparkled with a playful confidence, and a smile appeared on her lips. She twirled around, the dress swirling around her like a liquid dream. "How do I look?" she asked.

You reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Absolutely breathtaking," you murmured, your gaze lingering on the way the dress dipped low in the front. It wasn't about the amount of skin she showed, but the way she carried herself in it – powerful, confident, and undeniably yours.

Later, as she emerged from the fitting room again, this time in a fiery red dress, you leaned in and whispered, "You're making it really hard to focus on just one dress, babe." A laugh erupted from her lips.

An agonizing silence hung in the air after Tara disappeared into the fitting room. Images of her in the silver and red dresses replayed in your mind. You tapped your foot against the tile floor. Finally, unable to bear the wait any longer, you blurted out, "How does the next one look?" while going into the fitting room, revealing Tara already standing there, fully dressed. A gasp escaped your lips. She wore a black dress, shorter and even more daring than the others. The fabric clung to her curves highlighting every dip and swell with a stark sensuality.

"Hey! You're supposed to wait outside," she said, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite the fake annoyance in her voice.

You ignored her reprimand, your gaze fixed on her. "Am I?" you countered, your voice dropping to a seductive low rumble.

The space between you seemed to shrink as you took a deliberate step forward. A slow smirk spread across your face, your eyes flickering over the way the dress accentuated the narrowness of her waist and the swell of her hips.

Tara mirrored your movement, taking a cautious step back. Her breath hitched as she felt the cool wall against her back, effectively trapping her. Her eyes never left yours.

The door clicked shut behind you. Before you could even formulate a complete thought, the words tumbled out, "You look so..." Your voice trailed off. Your gaze, unable to tear itself away, devoured the sight of her in that black dress. You licked your lips unconsciously. Your hands, driven by a desperate need for contact, found their way to her waist.

Instead of lingering there, your fingers went downwards, tracing the smooth skin of her thighs. You buried your face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume mixed with a hint of nervous excitement.

A soft gasp escaped her lips as you peppered the spot with gentle kisses. You felt the frantic rise and fall of her chest against yours, heard the hitch in her breath as your lips sucked a particularly sensitive spot, leaving a mark.

Emboldened by her reaction, your hands dipped beneath the hem of the dress. Slowly, you began to inch the dress upwards, above her waist.

Your hand finally reached her panties. Your fingers brushed the soft fabric that covered her clit.

A gasp, barely a whisper, escaped her lips. "They could hear us," she breathed.

A slow smirk played on your lips, your eyes burning with desire as you met hers. "So be quiet," you whispered back.

With a deliberate movement, you pushed the fabric aside. Your fingertips started tracing circles against her sensitive clit.

The touch was like a spark igniting a firestorm within her. You saw it in the way her breath hitched, in the way her eyes widened. Her lips parted slightly, making a soft moan that she quickly bit back. Her hands clenched into fists, grabbing your shirt.

Ignoring the protest trapped in her throat, you pushed your exploration further, inserting two fingers in her. Her eyes fluttered shut. A soft moan escaped her lips. Her body arched involuntarily against yours.

The urgency in your touch escalated, picking up the pace, massaging her g-spot and her clit with your thumb. Your breath hitched in your throat, mirroring the way hers grew ragged and uneven.

Suddenly, a voice pierced the intimate bubble you'd created. "How're the dresses, dear?" the store lady inquired from outside the fitting room.

You reached out with your free hand, squeezing one of Tara's hands, signalling her to cooperate. Understanding dawned in her eyes, and she quickly responded, "Good, thanks!"

"Great, let me know if you need anything," the voice replied, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps.

Seizing the opportunity, you leaned in, your lips meeting hers in a soft but dominant kiss. "Cum for me," you whispered against her lips. As if on cue, her body convulsed against yours. You felt the warmth of her orgasm against your fingers. You pulled your fingers out of her, bringing them to your lips, licking her sweet release.

Your eyes on hers, hers hazy with post-climax bliss and a vulnerability that left you breathless.

"My sweet girl," you murmured, "Get changed. We need to finish at home what we started here."

Tara, still flushed and breathless, could only manage a silent nod. Her eyes, filled with a mix of exhilaration and apprehension, held yours for a beat before she turned and began to peel off the dress as you got out the fitting room, closing the door behind you.

The familiar figure of the store lady rounded the corner. "How did it go?" she chirped, a wide smile plastered on her face.

You forced a smile, "Good," you replied, "We're buying the three of them."

The unexpected announcement made Tara's head snap out the fitting room. Her eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" she mouthed.

You winked at her, "Absolutely," you confirmed, leaning in close to whisper, "But only if you promise to be a good girl on the way home."

Tara's cheeks flushed a deeper crimson, but a playful smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Once she was ready, she reached out, intertwining her fingers with yours.

Together, you walked towards the cashier, paying for her dresses. The weight of the shopping bags was a distraction from the simmering tension between you. You knew the real fun was just beginning.

[horsegirlwithnoname]

the metalmark license is extremely funny because everybody goes "it's just invisibility invisibility invisibility it's so boring" and they're missing the fact that it's up there with the Genghis and Tokugawa in terms of being able to apply absurd amounts of Burn Damage. It has Shock Knives, the Shock Wreath and an aux/aux mount, I'm begging you to go read the Skirmish rules again to realise how truly bananas that is, how completely you can ruin a single target's day by stabbing him so fast he catches fire. With Hunter 3 that's 6 burn for 1 skirmish, and 1d6+6 burn if you activate the Shock Wreath.

It's single-target burn, but I really feel like it's worth mentioning that you can have an aux weapon apply more burn to somebody than the Genghis' superheavy plasma thrower does. It's a knife! Just one little knife and WHOOOOMPH.

this isn't even going outside the license, you can put Genghis and Toku bits on the Metalmark! And since the knives generate heat you get a lot of benefit out of normally-HA-leaning stuff like Nuke Cav and various pieces of HA gear like the Agni and Redundant Systems.

If you prepare to cook your admittedly-shitty SSC engine you can get hideous with it, set yourself on fire and become the king of knife.

[streamafterlaughter]

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter V: We Don’t Have to Talk About it.

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev.

songs for this chapter: cool about it by boygenius, pink pony club by chappell roan

summary: the celebrations for Chris’s return continue, this time with the first Corroded Coffin show in years!

a/n: everything i write in these chapters makes me want to write more LET’S GOOOO. keep an eye out for a new tab in coming chapters ;)

chapter tags: mean!eddie, mean!reader, fighting, weed, drinking, angst, hurt/no comfort, talks of adult content creation | fic tags: Angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Reblog/comment/like to support the author!

—

You are determined to have a lazy, relaxing day off. Your brother’s gone out for a job interview, so you once again have your apartment to yourself. You start by indulging in a greasy homemade bacon egg and cheese sandwich, made on a toasted everything bagel slathered in butter. You savor it with sips of coffee consumed on your front porch, hoping your nextdoor neighbors aren’t awake yet to pollute the area with cigar smoke.

When you’re finished eating, you pluck the book you’ve been reading from its spot on the couch and make your way to the bathroom. One compromise you’d refused to make when apartment hunting: you needed a bathtub. No walk in shower bullshit. You’d gotten your wish with this old duplex, the bathroom, though a garish purple color, came with a beautiful clawfoot tub.

You let the water warm before plugging the drain, peeling off your pajamas and wrapping yourself in your soft, freshly washed robe. You have a routine on days like this. You’ll take a bath, smoke a joint and sip your coffee in the tub while you read at least three chapters before the water gets cold. You queue your On Repeat playlist, not willing to skip around every song in your library. The music sets a nice ambiance humming through your bluetooth speaker as you sink into the warm water, bubbles creating a soft blanket over your naked form. You release a sigh as you slip up to your neck, relishing in the warmth engulfing you. When your muscles feel loose, you dry your hands on the towel you’ve set aside, and pluck the joint from the ashtray. The sweet smoke fills your lungs, causing a pleasant burn in your chest. You exhale slowly, grabbing your book from the makeshift side table you’ve put together.

Currently, you’re halfway through Normal People, your copy a bit worse for wear, pages water stained and spine snapped in several places. It’s already punctured your heart a few times, you can’t help but feel frustrated for Marianne. The high buzzes pleasantly in your brain as you read, creating vivid pictures in your head from the words on the page. Marianne morphs into you, and for some reason Connell has grown long, curly locks and grown an affection for silver rings. All of this, set to the musical stylings of Boygenius in your steam filled bathroom. You’re supposed to feel at ease, but there’s a coil tightening in your belly you’re not sure how to stifle, making your chest flutter with excitement.

It becomes nearly impossible to focus on the story, so you set your book aside in favor of your phone. You’re careful to hold it above the water, scrolling through your various feeds to see what your friends are up to.

Stevie (@ thehairington): i’m never letting rob aux again for as long as i live

rob (@ lilbirdie): not MY fault ur a big baby!!!!!

b (@ babybeez): … do i wanna know what song ?

rob (@ lilbirdie): pink pony club! i thot it would be fun!!

b (@ babybeez): oh ur evil

Stevie (@ thehairington): RIGHT!!!

You giggle, imagining Steve as he and Robin drive to work, breaking down as Chappell sings, “You're always on my mind / And mama, every Saturday / I can hear your southern drawl a thousand miles away, saying GOD, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE,” and you wish you were with them. Maybe you’ll go bother them later, once you grow tired of being with only yourself for company. You exit out of Twitter and open Instagram, the first picture when your feed loads being the last people you want to see right now. It’s a picture of Eddie, clearly taken by someone else. He’s sticking his tongue out at the camera, standing in front of The Hideout.

@ thefreakmunson: come thru tonite, corroded coffin plays at ten.

Ugh, right. It’s Tuesday. Your mother is definitely gonna call you to work tonight, and your good mood flies out the window. As if reading your mind, your phone dings, but it’s not your mother.

Eddie (block later.): Is my favorite bartender workin tonite?? ;)

You seem to stab each letter as you reply:

god i fuckin hope not.

he replies only with :(

__

It takes another hour for your mom to text you.

mama: hi honey, i know i tell you every week you can have tues off, but i just got a call from chris’s buddies telling me they’re coming to surprise him tonight. would u mind? i’ll owe u

you love your mom more than anything, but you can’t tell her you’d do it for nothing, because it’s going to be torture. Ever since Chris joined the band when Gareth went to college, you’d been avoiding working Tuesdays even more than before. The band hadn’t played their usual nighttime slot since Chris had come home, so the crowd is expected to be substantial.

yea of course mom, see u at 8

mama: thx baby bee

You look at the clock, the red lights reading 12:00 PM. Still plenty of time to go get your friends to come out tonight, despite them both having to work tomorrow. Luckily, they love you, so you don’t expect to have a hard time. You take your time getting dressed, humming along to the music as you comb your hair and do your makeup. Once you're satisfied, You migrate to your closet to pick out an outfit for tonight. Something devious plays in your brain, and you want an outfit that will draw attention. You want to look hotter than you feel, hoping to trick yourself into confidence in the face of a possibly awful night. You look hot though, in a cropped black t-shirt and form hugging jeans, and take the opportunity to post a long overdue selfie.

—

“Bee!” Robin squeals when you enter the record store, far too excited to see you.”You look hot!” Now she’s complimenting you. Something’s up.

You make your way through the long outdated shop, surrounded by walls lined with records ranging from the 60s to 90s exclusively, and a floor dusty with loose boards that creak loudly with every step. It’s a miracle this place has enough business to stay open. You like to conspire that the owner Mr. Summers is in the Mob, and this place has been his front since it opened in ‘86. You keep that in your diary only, though.

“Should I duck and cover?” You direct the question at Steve, who’s standing at the counter with a big grin on his face. “Not you, too. What’s going on?”

“You’re gonna want to kiss him when you hear this.”

“Oh?”

“Do you wanna tell her?” Robin calls over her shoulder.

“Well actually—,”

“He got us Chappell tickets.”

Your mouth falls open so fast you feel your jaw pop.

“She’s in Indy this weekend, and I happened to have some extra money from, y’know,” Robin holds her hand up, “We do not need to hear about your OnlyFans, Steve.”

Steve shrugs. “And yet, I still let you reap the rewards.”

You squint at him. “Are you doing a bit right now?”

They shake their heads, faces flushed from laughter.

“Seriously?”

“Look me up, stevethestallion.” His tone is even now, all traces of joking gone.

You call his bluff, and type the website you definitely haven’t used before into the browser. When it definitely doesn’t already have you logged in, you type in the alleged username. “One or two e’s?”

“Just one, I can’t compare to Megan like that!”

You shake your head, hitting search. The page loads. The account is behind a 25 dollar pay wall, but the visible follower count reads 35K. The profile picture is faceless, a shirtless torso with an abundance of chest hair, and the smallest hint of a happy trail. You click on it, purely for further investigation. You find your answer when you can see the faintest outline in the background of the same exact Tame Impala poster that Steve has hanging over his bed.

“Oh my fucking god. Hell yeah, dude.” You laugh, and Steve seems to release a held breath. “What, you think I'd be, like, grossed out? This is hot. And a really smart financial endeavor, apparently.”

Robin nods in agreement. “With perks!” The three of you burst into laughter.

When you’ve settled, breathing heavily to avoid lingering giggles, you turn to face them again. “Now, after this I feel even worse for asking you guys for a favor, but I’m desperate.”

“You want us to come out tonight?” Steve doesn’t miss a beat.

You straighten your back, suddenly bashful. “How’d you know?”

He clears his throat, signaling Robin to continue.

“Eddie uh, invited us out.” She rushes out.

You suck your lips between your teeth, nodding stiffly. “‘Course he did, yeah.”

“Asked me if you were working.” She adds, and you meet her gaze, panicked.

“And you said?” She shrugs. “What does that mean?”

“I literally sent him the shrug emoji.”

“I mean, you are, right?”

You nod, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Okay. This is fine. Everything will be fine.”

Robin cages you in, planting a hand on each of your shoulders. “You’ll get through it. Do it for Chappell.”

You lean into the dramatics. “Of course, for Chappell.”

—

Chappell owes you, big time. Tuesdays have gone from a quiet, boring weeknight with less than five hundred dollars in the register by the end of the night. Unfortunately, those days have long since ended since you’d left for college. Every Tuesday, Eddie’s band Corroded Coffin plays The Hideout, despite your begging and pleading with your mom to stop booking them.

“I can’t!” She’d reason, “Not if you and your brother want anything to help pay for my funeral!” She was being dramatic, for the most part. But they did bring in the green, as much as you hate to admit it. Apparently a popular music reviewer had given them a shoutout, garnering them an actual audience. You‘re happy for the guys, mostly. You just aren’t in the mood to be the people pleasing, flirty bartender tonight.

It’s almost ten when the van finally pulls into the back lot. “Where the hell have you guys been?” You hiss when your brother exits the driver’s side.

“Had to make a stop.” The irritation in his voice is palpable. You motion for him to elaborate, and he jerks his head to where Eddie is opening the back door, offering his hand out to help Macy climb out. “Sat in her fuckin’ driveway for twenty minutes.”

You glare daggers at the pair of them, and Eddie must feel them on his neck because he jerks his head, eyes immediately meeting yours. You don’t let up, hoping your expression translates the rage you feel in your gut. Eddie is the first to break the staring contest, looking back to the woman on his arm. She meets his gaze with a glare of her own, and he whispers something to her that breaks her grimace into a giggle. Your palms start to sweat.

“Go, we’ll start setting your shit up. Mom’s hysterical.”

“Okay. I’ll run damage control after. Sorry, Beebs.”

“Yeah, yeah. Not you that’s gonna be sorry.” You send another seething look to the pair walking to the stage door, attached at the hip and without even a halfhearted acknowledgement of their lateness. “Asshole.” You follow the rest of them inside, Chris on your heels.

“Where the hell have y'all been?!” Your mom exclaims when Chris enters the green room, a barely renovated office that fits about three and a half people at a time. You hand your brother off to be berated, and power walk to the stage to set up equipment. Your warpath comes to a screeching halt when you reach the wings, the scene playing out in front of you preventing you from moving further.

Eddie is sitting on a barstool, guitar forgotten on his lap as Macy stands over him, passionately licking into his mouth. Eddie’s eyes are closed, and he kisses her back with little restraint, the tent growing in his pants becoming obvious when the instrument begins to slide from his lap. He catches it without breaking from her, placing it on the stand next to him. You decide you don’t have time to wait for whatever this is to play out in its likely disgusting entirety, so you leave the comfort of the shadows and make your presence known.

“Ahem,” You clear your throat loudly, causing the couple to separate abruptly, each wiping the other’s saliva from their mouth. “Sorry to interrupt, but if you don’t want an entire crowd of pissed off drunks against you, you might wanna let me set up.”

“Hey, Bee.” Eddie recovers from embarrassment quickly, you’ll give him that. You nod in acknowledgment, knowing any words you give him will be laced with unnecessary venom.

“Eddie, baby, you wanna take this to the bathroom?” Macy’s tone is sultry, needy. You almost feel bad for her, being this hypnotized by Eddie’s charm. You wish you could help her, but it’s possible she’s too far gone.

“Yeah ‘course, baby. I’ll meet you there in a sec.” His gaze slides from her to where you stand across the stage, the only sounds coming from the patrons beyond the curtain.

“Don’t make me wait too long.” She slinks away, hips swaying. She brushes past you, leaving the sweet stench of her perfume behind. What demon did Eddie make a deal with?

“So,” Eddie muses, rising from the stool. “You’re workin’.”

“No shit, really?”

“Hey, don’t be mean. Just makin’ small talk.”

“That’s not necessary.” You unglue yourself from the floor, busying yourself with wires and speakers as Eddie keeps talking. “Just thought, y’know, you had tonight off.”

“I did,” You bite, “but then Chris invited the whole damn state of Indiana.”

“Ah, ‘course. The third homecoming party this week for the lovable Christopher L/n, convicted felon.” He chuckles, and you stop what you’re doing to respond. Something in you snaps, quick and clean.

“Fuck you, Eddie.” You spit, and he throws his hands up.

“Whoa, I was kidding!”

“Shut up, I’m talking.” His eyes bulge out of his skull. “You have the audacity to make jokes about Chris, but he could’ve brought you right down with him. You were 18, a goddamn adult. But he kept his fucking mouth shut to protect you. You know who he didn’t fucking protect? When her bullies learned he wasn’t home anymore, or when she had fucking no one on her side and the one other kid she found comfort in never called her again?” You let loose, doing your best to keep your voice even. “You ever wonder what would’ve happened, Eddie? If the roles had been reversed, and Chris had done what you did? Don’t even pretend you’d forgive him for that. There’s something else going on, and I intend to find out what it is.”

He doesn’t interrupt your rant, instead holding your intense stare with apparent ease. When you finish, he waits a beat, letting the metaphorical dust settle. Finally, he answers. “You have to let it go, Bee. There are some things you just don’t wanna know. Don’t need to know. I will never not feel guilty about what I did, but I can’t tell you anything else. I wish I could, really.”

You’re careful with your next words. “But, if I were to figure it out without your help…?”

He catches your drift. “I probably wouldn’t be able to deny it convincingly.” Eddie shrugs, signaling the end of the conversation. “I’ll let you set up. You gonna watch our set?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

Eddie snickers. “That’s my girl.” And he walks offstage before you can react to the statement, or demand he at least pretend to help.

—

You make it back to the bar in time to save your mom from the massive line of rabid patrons.

“Where have you been?” She half shouts over the noise, pouring a glass of Guinness for one of Stan’s high school friends, Scotty, you’re almost certain.

“Setting up the stage!” You shout back, failing to hide the irritation in your voice. You turn to the booze hound in front of you. “What can I get you?”

You sense your mom moving closer, still grabbing glasses and bottles to pass across the counter. “No need for the attitude, Beebs.”

“Ugh, sorry. Just not what I wanted to be doing tonight.”

“Oh, and I just adore being here?” She nudges you until you grit your teeth, forcing a smile. “You wanna tell Mama what’s wrong?”

“Nah, not right now. We’ll dish later.” You love gossiping with your mom, but she knows Eddie. She knows what he’s like, what your past with him entails, and she’ll surely have plenty of insight for you.

As you take another order, the house lights dim and the crowd goes wild. You can’t help but turn your head towards the stage, where your brother’s friends have formed a pit in the front, whooping and hollering as the band takes the stage. Chris points to his friends with his drumstick, causing them to jump around, playfully shoving each other to get the crowd moving.

Eddie comes out last, greeted with more wild cheers, a lot of them more shrill than those given to Chris. Girls throw themselves toward the stage, offering their wombs to him like he’s Paul McCartney in the 1960s. You watch, your vision red around the edges, as he blows a kiss to Macy in the front row, and she pretends to catch it. You have to look away to keep from gagging.

—

“Thank you, Hawkins! We have been Corroded Coffin, goodnight!” The band line up across the stage, taking their bows. Next to where you stand with Robin and Steve across the bar, Macy and her gaggle of friends whoop and holler obscenities. It disappoints you, watching such a beautiful woman have her bar set so low.

“Oh my god,” Robin follows your stare. “No fucking way.”

“I know, she’s stunning, don’t remind me.” You rest your chin in your hand, slouching over the bar.

“Of course she is, that’s Macy Miller!”

You blink at her, not understanding why her last name matters.

“She’s the bassist of Statuesque Dolls, they’re the opening band for Chappell’s tour!” The gleaming smile on her face vanishes when she looks at you again. “What’s wrong?”

“That’s Eddie’s latest muse, or something.” you shake your head from the thoughts of Macy onstage. She’s probably irresistible, a symbol of feminism and sex and rock ‘n’ roll.

“No fuckin’ way.” Robin shakes her head in disbelief. “He’s blackmailing her. Or something. Right?”

You shake your head. “Change the subject, Rob. Please.”

“Okay, sure. Steve is a pornstar.”

You burst into laughter. “A popular one! Good for him, really.”

Robin crosses her arms. “Good for him, sure, but what about me?! He’s my roommate, Bee!”

“Come on, you’re paranoid. He probably doesn’t film while you’re home.” She purses her lips, but doesn’t respond. “Don’t be such a conservative.”

She gasps. “How dare you!”

“Hey, ladies!” The subject of your conversation enters your huddle, a beer sloshing in his hand. “How are my most favorite people in the whole wide world doin’?” Steve’s cheeks are bright pink, stretched by his massive smile. His eyes are half closed, like it’s still too bright in the dimly lit bar.

“Someone’s not concerned about opening tomorrow.” You tease, motioning to his frothy drink.

“Oh, Melvin gave me the day off.” He beams, and Robin scoffs. “Sorry, Bob, snooze ya lose.”

“Oh, sure, ‘til I call out and he tells you to cover.” She winks before leaning over the bar to you. “Shots?”

You snort a laugh and grab the tequila off the bar. At the same time you finish pouring the third shot, a fourth figure looms over you. “You all takin’ shots?” Eddie’s eyes shine with eagerness.

“Yeah, you want?” Steve offers, and Robin digs her elbow into his ribs. You grab a fourth glass and slice of lime without a word, feeling the skin inside your mouth break between your teeth.

“Are we toasting?” He looks from your friends to you, and his expression softens. You shrink under his gaze, suddenly wishing you hadn’t said a word to him before the set.

“Um, not particularly.” Robin attempts to cut the tension, but she’s met with no response beyond a confused Steve asking, “What about, to friendship?”

Robin pinches the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. “Dingus, read the damn room.”

“What?” He giggles, still not getting it. “What did I say?”

“No, Rob. It’s cool, I like that.” You hold your own shot glass up, signaling your friends to do the same. “To friendship, current and otherwise.” You chance looking at Eddie, and his eyes are already locked on you. He doesn’t look away when you catch him, only tilts his glass towards you before licking the salt from the back of his hand and downing the liquor. He doesn’t flinch, calmly reaching for the lime to relieve his palette. You follow suit, the burning nothing you can’t handle. Being a bartender has its moments, but this isn’t one of the prouder ones.

—

“So,” Your mother starts, spraying the bar with disinfectant as you finally lock the door for the night. “What happened?”

“What?” You pretend you don’t know what she’s talking about, busying yourself with a mop across the room.

“What, what? You’ve been snippy all night. I want to make sure you’re alright.”

You shrug. “Nothing happened specifically. The boys just get on my nerves is all.”

“Boys? Or Eddie?” Your mom gives you her Mother Knows All look.

“Ugh, whatever.” You don’t answer the question.

“Bee, you can talk to me. I know you’re going through a lot, your brother being home and all. You haven’t seen Eddie in, what, two years?”

“Three.”

“Three years! See, you’re taking a lot on at once. You know you can lean on me, right?”

You set the mop back in its bucket and walk over to your mom, picking up a rag and the spray bottle before moving to the tables. “Yeah, I know. But I’m sure you’re also trying to cope with your son being back, I don’t wanna add any more stress on top of that.”

“You’re my baby. Your stress is my stress, always.”

Your walls crumble at her affirmation. “It’s just, who does he think he is? He has the audacity to show his face around here after what he did! And Chris just lets him! It’s like nothing happened, and it’s pissing me off. Making me feel fucking crazy!” You usually don’t swear around your mom, but it all pours out of you. “And he talks to me like we’re buddies, like he didn’t ruin my fucking life when he sent Chris to prison.” You rub your tired eyes, awaiting your mom’s wisdom.

“Have you talked to Chris? Gotten his side?”

You roll your eyes. “I tried. He told me very little. Eddie was no help either.”

Your mom tosses her rag aside and leans her elbow on the counter. “Boys are morons, baby bee. I’m sorry. I wish I could offer something more profound. You’re talking to a divorcee, here.”

You laugh despite your mood. “Are we all just doomed? Forced to deal with this inferior species for the rest of our lives?”

Your mother chuckles. “Probably!”

—

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj let me know if you’d like to be added!

[mrchiipchrome]

Sunscreen

W.C.- 2 k

“Have you got everything we need? Sunscreen? Towels? My sudoku’s?”

“Check. Check and check. I’ve got everything we need Lee, and even if I did the other girls are gonna pack plenty of things. You’ve seriously going to have to calm down, we’re spending the day at the beach.”

“Yeah I guess you’re right, I’m sorry”

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for, my love. Now come on, let’s go.”

You put your hands on her waist, pulling her in for a kiss full of love. The beach bag is slung haphazardly over your right shoulder after you’d checked its contents as per Leah’s request. The two of you had been invited to an Arsenal beach outing, the last meeting before everyone shipped off to Australia for the World cup.

Releasing her waist from your iron grip, you walk out the door side by side with your fiancée but not before stealing another quick kiss from her usually pouting lips. You unlock the car for Leah remotely as you lock up the house, triple checking that your house was locked up before joining Leah in the car. Settling into the driver's seat, you lean back and put the bag in the backseat before putting the key in the keyhole and starting the engine. 

With one hand on the wheel and one on the back of Leah’s headrest, you look through the back window as you maneuver your way out of the driveway. Leah can’t resist pressing a soft kiss against the exposed skin of your neck, resulting in you stopping your movements entirely too distracted by the affection from your favorite person.

Waking from your slight trance, you continue your earlier actions of backing out. DJ Williamson makes her appearance as she connects her phone to the aux and starts to play the playlist she made specially for the two of you, made up of your shared favorite songs and lyrical pieces.

Jamming out, you’ve driven about half of the journey when the music gets cut off and the sound of someone calling replaces it. Seeing the face of a certain Irish captain paired with ‘Leprechaun 🇮🇪🍀’ clues you in to who’s calling you. Accepting the call you are instantly met with the screaming voice of Katie Mccabe floating around the air of the enclosed space of the car.

“Ey! Where are ya? We’ve been here for a while now”

“My dear Katie, we’re there in like 10 minutes don’t you worry. Did you manage to drag Ruesha with you?”

“I sure did” You hear the sound of the phone being passed through the speakers in the car, enforcing every little sound coming from the other end of the phone.

“You asked for me, darling?”

“Rue, my love! How you doing? Been missing you, yeah” You and Ruesha had clicked as soon as you had met and became best friends faster than the Flash could run, ever since then you’ve been calling each other pet names for fun. What made it even more fun was how your partners hated it, your favorite activity outside of football was to annoy them two.

“Been dealing with my crybaby, but otherwise I’ve been alright darling. How about you? How’s it been dealing with Grumps?” Snorting at the nickname Ruesha’s given Leah, you can feel her glare burning into the side of your face.

“Leah’s been much less grumpy since I proposed, maybe you should take a page out of my book and pop the question to Katie so she’ll stop being so feisty.” The words falling from your lips are words you know are going to come into fruition within the next couple weeks, Ruesha having told you her plans as soon as you told her yours.

A ‘hey!’ comes from the background of the call, Katie clearly having heard your comment on her feistiness.

“Right, we’re pulling in now so we’ll see you soon.” Surprisingly it’s not you who speaks this time, instead it’s Leah who ends the call when she’s done.

After you’ve put the car in a parking space and turned off the engine, you reach over and open the compartment in front of Leah’s legs, pulling out a roll of sports tape to put over her engagement ring so that she won’t lose it. Taking her left hand into yours, bringing it up to your lips to kiss the back of it before placing kisses to her fingertips with the same tenderness you always have with her. Pulling off a bit of the tape, you put the thin strip of the sticky material over the silver band sitting prettily on her slender finger.

“Like that. I did a pretty good job, right?” The kiss she presses to your lips serves as confirmation and you sigh contentedly into the passionate kiss. Leah takes the opportunity to slip her tongue into the opening between your lips, exploring your mouth like she’s done so many times before. Swiftly pulling away from her addictive lips is harder than you would think it would be, and the whine that leaves her kiss swollen lips has your knees weak.

“Lee, we’ve gotta go and join the others no matter how much I want to let this play out.”

“Let’s go then.”

Exiting the car, you pluck the bag from the back seat before locking the car and joining Leah where she’s stood near the front of it. Taking her hand in yours again, you two walk in the hot sand towards the placement of the group of footballers. 

When you finally arrive at the group, you hand Leah the picnic blanket you brought to sit on. She places it over the burning hot sand before taking the bag from your practically vibrating form, knowing how excited you were to get in the water and play with the teammates who were as ‘mature’ as you. Pulling your shirt over your head, you expose the bathing suit that had been hiding under the article of clothing, and the friends surrounding you let out a few whistles.

“Bye, babe” Trying to slip away into the water before Leah makes you put on the suffocating sun lotion, you get about 1 meter before she realizes what it is you’re trying to do.

“Wait Y/n! You really didn’t think that I would forget right?” Gesturing for you to come back, you let out a low grumble before returning to her now sitting form ready to be smothered in sunscreen. You look on as she squirts the lotion into her palm before she dips her right index and middle finger into the puddle and takes your face between two of her fingers. Tapping her fingers all over your face, she leaves behind tracks of white that are going to be blended out within a short while. When she decides that the blobs are spread out evenly enough, she starts to rub it around and effectively blends it out. Moving on to your neck, she takes what’s left of the puddle in her hand and smears it all over your neck before motioning for you to turn around so that she can repeat the process on your back. Her fingers massage the sunscreen into the skin of your back and you have to bite down on your lip to prevent the groan from escaping the vicinity of your throat.

A short time later, the entirety of your body has been sun lotioned and it’s your time to return the favor of covering the difficult parts to reach. Watching carefully as Leah takes her shirt off, you swear you’re in heaven as you see her abs flex with her movements. As she lays down on her stomach, you put the cold liquid directly on her back instead of your hand before spreading it evenly over every strong and incredibly visible muscle. When you’re done, you give her a light tap on the bum to show her that you’ve completed the task before you hand her the tube of sunscreen, ready to take off towards the water. She turns around to give you a kiss before you’re allowed to run down to the waves.

Half an hour later is when you start missing your girl, walking up to her with water dripping all over the place from your body. Leah’s laying on the blanket, eyes closed as she’s obviously tanning lightly. You get the perfect idea when you notice that she doesn’t seem to acknowledge your presence coming up to her, but like always Leah knows you better than anyone meaning she knows exactly what you’re thinking.

“Don’t you dare, Y/n.”

“Do you have eyes everywhere or something?” Your voice is filled with disbelief as you question her.

“No you’re just really predictable” She tells you while throwing one of the towels at your still dripping body.

“As much as I want to contest that, I know that you’re gonna win so I won’t even try. We’re gonna go play chicken fight, you want to join?” The question is more of a formality than anything, you know Leah just as well as she knows you. When she shakes her head you lean down to kiss her and hand her back the towel she had given you. Walking down towards where you know Ruesha’s sitting, you ask her if she wants to join in on the game, the two of you against Katie and Beattie. She agrees as soon as you say Katie, always down to knock her girlfriend down a peg.

Leah watches on as Katie complains about you pairing up with her girlfriend before both you and Jen go down under the surface to let the two women sit on your shoulders. You keep a tight grip on her knees so that she won’t fall off your shoulders. A countdown is started and as it gets to 1, you start moving towards Jen and Katie, and as the women on top of your shoulders clasp hands with each other trying to push each other off Leah hears a question coming from left.

“To think that you want to spend the rest of your life with Y/n is really sweet. Your relationship is cavity provoking by how sweet it is.” Caitlin expresses her feelings with the statement, and Leah can’t help but agree.

“She’s my person, y’know. I’ve loved her since I was little, there’s no denying that I’m doing the right decision by marrying her”

When Leah turns back to where you were just a second ago, she can’t spot you anywhere. She figures that you’ve just gone underwater again, but as she feels your cold and wet body on her warm and dry one she quickly realizes how wrong she was. The sound of her shriek has the entire team looking in your direction and seeing what was happening. As Leah pushes you off her and into the sand, you let out a loud laugh at her immediate reaction.

“I regret agreeing to marry you.” Her playful tone lets you know that she isn’t serious, that and the conversation you’d overheard.

“No you don’t”

“You’re right, I don’t”

The rest of the day goes by in a flash as you finally manage to pull Leah with you to swim with the promise of a shared shower as soon as you come home. You eat, talk and joke around with the rest of your teammates and when it is time to return home, Leah has to practically drag you away from your friends before you get reminded of your deal. The entire car ride home is spent in silence, tired from the outing with your friends.

The first words are muttered when the front door is closed and locked.

“How about that shower I was promised?”

Soon the bathroom looks more like the laundry room with all the clothes strewn about haphazardly, but you don’t mind in the slightest as long as you get that long awaited shower with your fiancée who you love more than anything.

Guess who's caught the flu? 😍🤞 (spoiler alert: it’s me) (no joke my body is actually in a lot of pain lmao)

[neighbourscat]

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 , grind by cochise

his car sat purring at the curb outside the diner, gleaming under the streetlights. the soft hum of the engine was the only sound besides the faint murmur of the city in the distance. nicholas was leaning against the driver’s side door, music low, nodding slightly to the beat that he could hear.

you came out of the diner, your silhouette framed by the neon sign above the door, your smile wide and easy. you are something else .. he told himself. nicholas had watched you for weeks, waiting for the right moment to ask you out, always a little too caught up in his world of fast cars and faster escapes. but now, here you were, walking toward him like you’d always belonged in his orbit, your steps light, your eyes shining under the streetlights.

“no’way you drive this . .. .” nicholas smiled that half-smile of his and nodded toward the car. you glanced at it again, a sleek, black machine that looked like it was made for speed. “who’d you steal this from?” you asked, a teasing edge to your voice, as if you weren’t sure a guy like him — quiet, unassuming — could handle something this powerful.

“hop in,” he hummed, opening the passenger door for you. his voice was calm, almost casual, but inside, his heart was pounding. this was the part he was good at — the driving. talking? not so much. but behind the wheel, he came alive.

you slid into the seat, running your fingers over the smooth leather, your eyes darting over the dashboard like you were trying to figure out what kind of night you’d agreed to. nicholas slipped into the driver’s seat, connected his phone to the aux, and hit play. the song started slow, a low and pulsing beat, syncing perfectly with the rhythm of his heart.

without a word, he eased the car into gear and pulled away from the curb. at first ( like the music ), it was slow, casual, like any normal drive, the city lights flickering past in a blur of gold and white. you leaned back in your seat, one hand out the window, catching the breeze as it rushed by. you looked over at him, your lips curved into a smile, but there was curiosity in your eyes . .. . like something more had been on his mind. you almost spoke .. but you were too late —

— with a flick of his wrist, nicholas pushed the car into overdrive!

the engine roared to life, the tires squealing against the pavement as the vehicle shot forward; the city fading into a messy, hazy streak of neon lights and asphalt that made your eyes hurt. immediately and for your own safety, you grabbed the edge of your seat. nicholas didn’t say anything, just let the now-blasting music guide him — every twist of the wheel, every shift of the gears, every tap of the brakes synced perfectly to the rhythm.

you sat completely stiff, her fingers curled tightly around the seat. your breath came quick, eyes impossibly wide and locked on the road ahead; his foot pressed on the gas . .. . harder than his foot should have. you saw the way his eyes focused, keen and distant, like the car was the only thing that mattered .. . “nicholas?!” you had to shout over his music.

nicholas didn’t speak. he never did when he drove, not like this. his world shrank to the size of the road, to the hum of the engine, the feel of the car’s tires gripping the asphalt as he flew through the city. his foot pushed against the gas even harder, and you both surged forward, weaving through the lanes like the road belonged to him.

your heart pounded in your chest, faster with every second that the car picked up speed. you wanted to say something — wanted to tell him to slow down, to stop; taking the road signs as suggestions — but the words caught in your throat. all you could do was clutch the edge of your seat more, your gold rings digging into the skin of your fingers, your pulse thundering in your ears as the world turned into a blur.

the car dove into a sharp turn without warning, and you were thrown sideways, your body jolting against the door. your breath hitched, fear rising like bile in the back of your throat. nicholas didn’t seem to notice, his eyes never leaving the road, the expression on his face unreadable, calm. too calm .. way too calm for your liking.

the tires squealed as he swerved around another corner, the back end of the car skidding just long enough for you to feel it — the brief moment where the car lost control before nicholas corrected it, spinning the wheel with practiced ease. the force of the turn pushed you back against the seat, your heart hammering as you braced yourself, gripping anything you could hold on to.

you glanced at him, your eyes searching his face, but there was no fear there. only focus. the road stretched out and he was locked into it, every movement smooth, precise. but to you, it felt absolutely reckless — fucking dangerous. the way he pushed the car, daring the speed to catch up. the wind rushed in through the open windows, hard and cold, whipping your summer-mermaid braids into your face. your body tightened, each breath shallow, your anxiety building with every swerve, every time the speedometer ticked higher.

nicholas didn’t flinch, didn’t blink as he cut across lanes. he drove like the night was a race he was determined to win, like there was no stopping until he had conquered the road beneath him. the music roared in his ears, keeping time with the pulse of the engine, drowning out the world ( and your complaints and pleas ).

another sharp turn, and the car fishtailed before straightening out, your body jerking violently to the side. this time, a small gasp escaped you, your hand flying to the door as if it could anchor you to something solid. you didn’t look at him now — you couldn’t. all you could do was watch the road, praying that the next corner wouldn’t be the last, that the car wouldn’t lose control completely.

but for nicholas, this was like breathing. the rush, the thrill of being perfectly in tune with the machine. he felt the bumps of the road, the way the car responded to his every move, the thrill of knowing he could push it harder, faster. “fuck!” you cried out. nicholas could feel the tension radiating off you, sensed the way your breath hitched with every acceleration, but he didn’t slow down. he couldn’t. this was where he belonged — at the very edge, where speed and danger blurred into something exhilarating.

death, you couldn’t help but think.

the tires screeched again as nicholas took a corner too fast, the car spinning; you felt the ground slip away. your heart actually leapt into your throat, your nails dug into the leather of the seat as you braced for the impact that never came. he pulled the car back under control with a flick of the wrist, his face still calm, his focus never wavering.

all you could do was hold on, your mind racing with only one word: DEATH. the fear and idea of DEATH was freezing cold in your veins now, sinking deeper with every second that his car sped forward.

finally, after what felt like an eternity of heart-stopping turns and breakneck speed, nicholas eased off the gas. the engine’s roar softened, and the car slowed as he approached an open stretch of road. the adrenaline still surged through you, your body trembling, your fingers aching from holding on so tightly.

nicholas blinked over at you, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since he fastened his seatbelt. he twisted the dial of his radio backward, but didn’t speak. he didn’t need to ( though he needed to ), the look on your face told him everything; and how your braids were all over.

the car rolled to a final stop at the side of the road, the engine idling softly now, the night settling back in around like it had been holding its breath. you sat there, your chest rising and falling, your hands still clutching the seat, your eyes wide and filled with something between ( little ) awe and fear.

nicholas looked back at the road, his hands resting lightly on the wheel. “i .. can explain,” he spoke then, low and surprisingly gentle, apologetically.

“now.”

[onlyonetifosi]

2 part to: The engineer

It was a sunny morning in Monaco, and Yn Leclerc sat at the breakfast table with her family. Her mother, Pascale, had just finished serving them a delicious meal, and now they were engaging in light conversation before Yn's graduation ceremony.

"Je suis tellement fière de toi, ma chérie," Pascale said, placing a hand on Yn's arm. "You've worked so hard for this day."

Yn smiled gratefully at her mother. "Merci, Maman. I couldn't have done it without your support."

Her brothers, Lorenzo, Charles, and Arthur, nodded in agreement. They knew how dedicated Yn had been throughout her engineering studies, juggling her academic responsibilities and her part-time job.

Lorenzo spoke up, his voice filled with admiration. "Yn, tu es vraiment la plus intelligente d'entre nous. We're lucky to have you as our sister."

Yn's heart warmed at her brothers' words. She had always been proud of their achievements in motorsports, but sometimes, she couldn't help feeling a pang of insecurity. Being the only sibling pursuing higher education, she had often felt left out of their racing world.

"Merci, Lorenzo," Yn replied, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "I'm proud of all of you too, but sometimes I wish I could have been a part of the racing journey as well."

Charles, who had become an established Formula 1 driver, reached across the table and grasped Yn's hand. "Yn, we love and support you in everything you do. Racing might be our passion, but we know how hard you've worked for your degree."

Arthur chimed in, his tone sincere. "Exactly! We wouldn't be where we are without your unwavering support and encouragement. You're an integral part of our success."

Yn's eyes welled up with tears, and she squeezed Charles and Arthur's hands. "Thank you, both of you. I'm so lucky to have such amazing brothers."

Pascale, ever the nurturing mother, rose from her seat. "Enough of the mushy talk, mes enfants! We have a graduation to prepare for."

The family spent the next few hours together, helping Yn get ready for her big day. Pascale, a talented hairdresser, skillfully styled Yn's hair, creating an elegant updo. She then applied subtle makeup to enhance Yn's natural beauty.

As Yn looked at herself in the mirror, she felt a sense of confidence radiating from within. She was ready to face the world, armed with her education and the unwavering support of her family.

The graduation ceremony took place in a grand auditorium, with friends, faculty, and fellow students gathered to celebrate their achievements.

"Y/N Leclerc, s'il vous plaît, venez sur scène" Y/N's name was called, a sense of accomplishment washed over her. She gracefully walked across the stage, accepting her degree with honors from her professor, Madame Moreau. The audience erupted in applause, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude towards her family, especially her late father, who had instilled in her a passion for knowledge.

Y/N took a deep breath and made her way to the stage. Applause filled the room as she accepted her diploma with a radiant smile. In that moment, all her hard work and sacrifices felt worth it.

After the graduates received their diplomas, Y/N was invited to give a speech on behalf of her class. Standing at the podium, she felt a surge of confidence.

"Mesdames et messieurs, aujourd'hui, nous célébrons nos réalisations en tant qu'ingénieurs. Je tiens à remercier ma famille pour leur amour et leur soutien sans faille. Nous sommes tous ici grâce aux sacrifices de ceux qui nous ont précédé. En premier lieu, je tiens à remercier ma famille pour m'avoir soutenue tout au long de ce parcours. Votre amour inconditionnel m'a donné la force de poursuivre mes rêves. Aujourd'hui, je suis fière de dire que j'ai obtenu mon diplôme d'ingénieur avec mention." (Ladies and gentlemen, today we celebrate our achievements as engineers. I would like to thank my family for their unwavering love and support. We are all here because of the sacrifices of those who came before us. First I would like to thank my family for supporting me throughout this journey. Your unconditional love has given me the strength to pursue my dreams. Today, I am proud to say that I have graduated with honors as an engineer)

Her voice resonated through the auditorium, carrying her message of gratitude and determination. She acknowledged the challenges they had overcome and the dreams they now pursued.

"Nous sommes la preuve vivante que peu importe d'où nous venons, nous pouvons atteindre nos objectifs avec passion et détermination. Ne laissez jamais les obstacles vous décourager, et souvenez-vous que vous n'êtes jamais seuls. Aujourd'hui, nous sommes ici ensemble, en tant qu'une famille d'ingénieurs" (We are living proof that no matter where we come from, we can achieve our goals with passion and determination. Never let obstacles get in the way of you, and remember that you are never alone. Today, we are here together, as a family of engineers)

As Y/N concluded her speech, the room erupted into applause. The pride on her family's faces was immeasurable. Y/N had not only graduated with honors, but she had also inspired her peers.

Her family erupted into applause, their cheers blending with the thunderous applause of the crowd. Yn could see familiar faces in the audience, including some F1 drivers who had become friends with the little Leclerc because of Charles such as Max Verstappen, with his signature grin lighting up his face, stood up and clapped enthusiastically, Lando Norris and Pierre Gasly joined in the applause, their support evident.

Yn's heart swelled with gratitude. She had found her place, not on the racetrack but among these incredible individuals who recognized her dedication and achievements.

After the ceremony, the Leclerc family gathered for a joyous celebration. Laughter filled the air as they toasted to Yn's success. The F1 drivers joined in, sharing stories and lighthearted banter.

"Merci d'être toujours là pour moi. Je vous aime tous. (Thank you for always being there for me. I love you all)” yn said raising her glass, and the room was filled with cheers, laughter, and heartfelt conversations.

As the evening wore on, Yn found herself in a quiet corner of the room, reflecting on the day's events. She could feel her father's presence with them, despite his absence. He had instilled in them the values of love, unity, and unwavering support.

Charles approached Yn, a soft smile gracing his face. "You did it, Yn. Dad would have been so proud."

Yn nodded, tears of happiness brimming in her eyes. "I know, Charles. Today, I felt his love surrounding us."

The Leclerc siblings shared a warm embrace, a moment of connection and understanding that surpassed words. In that moment, they knew that their father's spirit lived on within each of them, binding them together through their shared experiences and unwavering support.

And so, the Leclerc family celebrated into the night, cherishing the triumphs, overcoming the challenges, and reaffirming their unbreakable bond. Together, they stood as a testament to the power of love, support, and the pursuit of dreams.