#cruising down the road smoking?

[elevenfifths]

if i was capable of being chill about it, it didn’t stink, it didn’t fuck up 90% of my ability to be medically trans, it wasn’t so expensive, AND it didn’t make me feel like i was dying just to walk up a hill… i’d still be a regular cigarette smoker no questions asked

[misctf]

Country Living

When he stopped to help you on the side of this lonely country road, you couldn’t have been more grateful. You didn’t expect your car to breakdown on these desolate backroads. Nor did you expect a lack of cell service. Your years studying in college didn’t exactly give you the knowledge on how to diagnose and fix cars. But based on all the smoke, you figured something was wrong.

“Aw, don't you worry none, I'm right happy to help y'all out.” He removed his ball cap and ran his hand through his short brown hair, “Name’s Bucky. What brings y'all to this neck of the woods?”

He was certainly taller and more muscular than you- not to mention ripe with the smell of a hard day’s work. And you could tell he was looking you over, the juxtaposition couldn’t have been clearer. Country vs city boy, manual laborer vs keyboard warrior, dropped out of high school vs college educated. The list could go on. But despite the bias you held towards these country folks, you were happy he was helping. And so you introduced yourself and expressed your sincere gratitude. Bucky smiled and gave you a bone crushing handshake.

“Ain't no trouble at all, I'm just glad to help out.” He smiled warmly, his dark eyes, while lacking intelligence, were filled with kindness and just a bit of mischief.

He winks at you and you felt your heart flutter for just a moment. Maybe it was the way his stubble framed his tanned face. Or the way the sweat dripped from his muscular arms as he worked on your car. Or perhaps it was the occasional glances he gave you and the sly smirk that told you he knew you were checking him out.

“I reckon I know what's wrong. Just need to grab a tool from my garage.” He said, wiping the sweat from his brow, “You care to join me? Looks like you could use a sip of somethin’.”

It was true. In the sweltering heat, you were certainly thirsty. And while part of you wanted to stay with your car, you felt beckoned to go with him. And so you did. You climbed into his pick-up truck and watched as he revved the engine. And before long, you were cruising down the old country road with your car disappearing from sight.

“Well, dang if this ain't my favorite tune!” Bucky said, turning up the volume, “You figure you into this kinda music?”

It was some country song. One about cars, beer, and living on a farm. Not something you’d listen to voluntarily. But as Bucky sang in his southern twang, you found your foot tapping along. Soon you were mouthing the words, almost as if you knew the song by heart. And a moment later you joined in with him, the two of you putting your hearts into every lyric. You barely noticed the southern twang that garnished your voice.

“Well, I'll be darned! Can’t believe you like these kinda tunes. No offense intended, but you don't quite fit the mold, do ya?” He says with a chuckle.

Bucky gives your arm a playful punch and you look down at the exposed, tanned skin of your bicep. Your muscles were contracting and seemingly getting larger, highlighted nicely by the wifebeater that clung tightly to your skin. You look up at Bucky and he gives you a wink. Again, you feel comforted by his kind smile and playful dark eyes. You turn away and absentmindedly run a hand over your growing biceps. So firm and tight, the skin somewhat weathered. But deep down you know something isn’t right. Its nagging at you, begging for you to say something. To at least find out what’s happening to you. You want to tell Bucky, but he’s just pulled up to his garage.  

“Mind givin’ me a hand findin’ my toolkit?” Bucky asks. You nod quickly- your anxiety being pushed deep into your subconsciousness. And as Bucky enters the garage, he pulls off his sweaty wifebeater, “Don't pay me no mind, it sure gets mighty hot 'round these parts. You’re welcome to do the same.”

And you follow his example. As you do, you catch a whiff of your pits. The musk that invades your nostrils is a far cry from the vegan deodorant you applied this morning. Moreso, your usually well-trimmed pit hair is now a curly damp bush of dark brown hairs that poke out when you lower your arms. The smell makes you dizzy and you feel like you might fall over, but Bucky lends you a hand.

“Don’t go faintin’ on me now.” He says with a grin, “We got a lotta work to do.”

“Don't you worry 'bout me none, I got this here handled.” You say- the words leaving your mouth without much input from your brain. Bucky’s eyes light up and he grins.

“I shoulda known that.” His laugh fills your ears and you swear it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve heard. He notices you admiring him, “Gotta find those tools now.”

You nod and start rummaging through his garage and workbench. You pick up a wrench and place it down. Then another and another. You never really needed to learn basic mechanic stuff, let alone the names of wrenches. You were more focused on your degree. Your degree in... In...? You stare at the composite wrench in your hand and your eyes narrow. You were studying something at that univer... uni... book-learnin’ place of yours, right? Your thoughts are distracted when some oil spills on your hands.

“Gosh darnit.” You mutter, wiping the oil on your work jeans. Work jeans that were stained and torn from years of laboring.

You turn towards Bucky to say something, but instead find yourself gawking. His perfect stubble across his face, the sweat gleaming on his firm and toned muscles, and the way his chest hairs frame his pecs. Your dick gets hard and you quickly start to massage your bulge. And when you see how well his work jeans fit tightly around his juicy ass, you can’t but help let out a whistle.

“You say somethin’?” He asks, turning to face you, “Yeehaw! Look at you!” He says, clearly gawking.  

You turn to catch a glimpse of yourself in a nearby mirror and your eyes widen. You bounce your juicy pecs, appreciating the light dusting of hairs that decorate them. You raise your thick, meaty arm and flex, causing your muscles to bulge. And then you look at your face. It had squared out a bit, giving it a masculine edge and your cheeks now sported stubble. You felt powerful, and you couldn’t help but continue to flex.

“Hey there big fella.” You let out a masculine moan as Bucky comes from behind you, his arm reaching around, and his hand grabbing a fistful of your muscle tit, “You’re bigger’n a bull in springtime!” You just nod, unable to produce words as pleasure courses through you from his teasing hand, “It sure does get lonesome out here in these parts. Reckon I wouldn’t mind some company, if it ain’t too much trouble.”

He spins you around, your bodies pressing up against one another. His hand moves down your abs and then down your work jeans. He’s staring deep into your eyes now, a primal lust replacing the prior warmth from earlier. And for the first time, you feel lost. Scared even. As though you’re going down a path you wouldn’t be able to back away from. The end of one chapter of your life and the start of another you weren’t sure you wanted.

“Wait a minute... somethin’ don’t feel right. I... this ain’t who I am.” You say, unable to talk like you used to.

“Now, don’t go overthinkin’ it. Just keep your eyes on me.” Bucky whispered, his hands working to undo the buckle on your jeans.

You watch as he pulls down your pants and slowly gets down on his knees. Your enlarged, throbbing dick continues to grow, adding inch after inch. Bucky is nearly salivating as he comes face to face with your monster, and without another word, his tongue traces along the shaft. You moan as his mouth expertly works your cock. He bobs up and down, taking its entirety into his mouth. You feel as his hands wrap around your waist and he grabs a fistful of your muscular ass, causing you to let out another deep, masculine moan. You can feel your dick throbbing, your balls growing heavy with your seed. And as he expertly works the head of your cock, you can feel it. You’re getting close... so close. And then it stops. You’re breathing heavy now, and you look down at him. A sheen of sweat covers your body, dampening your body hair and filling the air with your country musk.

“Wh... why’d ya stop?” You breath out.

Bucky smirks, “You sure 'bout this, darlin’? Leavin’ behind all that city livin’ and book-learnin’? Just you and me, livin’ simple out here?” He licks along your shaft again, “Once you say yes, that’s it. No turnin’ back, no second thoughts. You sure you’re ready for that?”

Was this what he wanted? To bring you so close? To send you into a horny frenzy? To make it so that in this moment, all you’d be able to say was yes? With a smirk and a wink, he went back to sucking your cock. And as he did, you could feel it. You could feel your brain shrinking. Your memories growing up in suburbia vanished. As were your memories of going to college in the city. Nerdy interests like videogames and comic books vanished from your brain, and you felt terror as you forgot about your friends and family. Everything that made you you was vanishing from your mind. Instead, you could feel new interests: farming, hunting, woodworking, lifting weights, and drinking beer with your husband after a long day. Your fashion sense simplified: wifebeaters and work jeans, and honestly going shirtless was preferred. And as your eyes dimmed to reflect your lack of intelligence, and Bucky bobbed up and down on your dick, you finally came, releasing all of who you used to be. And as you filled your husband’s eager throat, you blacked out.

If someone told you who you used to be in your past life, I’m not sure you would go back. When the police came by a few days after your transformation with a missing persons poster of some kid, you had no idea who they were talking about. You quickly forgot all about that encounter. You had more important things like fixing the truck. But before you did that, you should check on Bucky. It’s been a few days, and your balls were mighty full.

[b0ng05]

Hi(gh) Milf! Wanda Maximoff x Stoner! Reader Pt.1

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Word Count: 3333

Prompt: Billy and Tommy are coming home from college for winter break, Wanda couldn't be happier. Until they show up with her least favorite guest. Enemies to lovers type of vibe 🥴

Warnings: Age gap, smoking, Angst

Also, Not Proofread 💅

Masterlist

Pt.1 Pt.2

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Wanda had always been a supportive mother to her boys, she’ll love them no matter what. They were her babies and could do no wrong in her eyes. Now, just because she’s supportive doesn’t mean she always approves of their choices. Like she didn’t approve of the way Tommy had wanted to bleach his hair over and over, mostly because she was worried about the health of it. Or when she didn’t approve of the boys wanting a pet lizard, but let them have it anyway to make them happy. Or how she doesn’t approve of Billy’s newest choice.

Billy had begun college and he had started making new friends. While that was great, there was one friend in particular that Wanda thought might be a bad influence on her son. Her name was Y/n, and as of late, Billy had chosen her to accompany him everywhere. They were like Dumb and Dumber, but put them together with Tommy when he’s home and it’s the Three Stooges.

From the first day Y/n had entered their home, Wanda could smell the reefer off the younger woman from three feet away. That accompanied with the stupid goofy grin on her face and Wanda instantly knew the girl was stoned. It wasn’t that Wanda didn’t approve of smoking, she just didn’t want her boys getting sidetracked with that new hobby and letting their grades slip in college, or getting mixed with the wrong crowd, nonetheless, she trusted them enough to ensure that themselves. And most of the time when the kids did visit back home with their new friend, Y/n was the only one stoned, and that only fortified the trust she had in her boys.

It was mid December, the air outside had grown cold and snow had begun to coat the ground in cold powdery layers. The Maximoff household smelt of fresh baked gingerbread cookies and a hint of cinnamon apples. Wanda had begun her baking when the boys told her they were driving home for Winter break. She was excited to see her kids for the holidays, to hear what she missed out on while they were away. She had kept herself pretty busy when the boys left home. She appreciated the free time to figure out who she was outside of being a mother, she had always had her own interests, but when the boys came along, they became her whole world. But now, she had time to try new hobbies and adventure out. She was happy, and it was a bittersweet yet tremendous feeling. So she softly hummed out a tune as she mixed together the cookie dough in the kitchen aid before her, lost in a peaceful bliss.

What Wanda’s kids forgot to mention to her, is that they were bringing Y/n with them for Winter break. Y/n had nowhere else to go for the weeks off, it was either go with the twins or be stuck on campus, the second choice didn’t sound too appealing. So, with a stash tucked in her duffle bag, she hopped in Billy’s suv. They had picked up Tommy from his dorm on the other side of campus, and began their journey back to the Maximoff home. The car was filled with the quiet hum of the wheels along the road and soft music playing in the background, the playlist courtesy of Billy. The twins occasionally chatted about school and the freshest gossip, the atmosphere was warm and comfortable.

As the car cruises down the highway, Y/n’s eyes fall to the window, her mind getting lost in a haze that wasn’t weed induced. Y/n felt guilty, of course she did. She may be stoned all the time, but she wasn’t a complete idiot. She felt as if she was invading the Maximoff household; it was clear to her from the first interactions that Wanda wasn’t necessarily the biggest fan of hers. Whether it was due to her poor introduction or whether it was how she dressed and acted, she couldn’t chalk up which one rubbed Wanda the wrong way. She didn’t want to impose herself into their home, but she didn’t have a different home to go back to. Her plan this winter break was to be out of Wanda’s vision as much as she could. Whether she had to hide away in the guest room all break, or if she had to duck out in Billy’s room. Anything to avoid the fake sugary kindness and judgemental glances.

Billy pulled over to a gas station along the side road, grabbing his wallet. He unbuckled his seatbelt, turning in his seat so he can view both passengers easier. “Alright, I’m running in to grab something to drink, you two want anything?” Billy asks, turning to look at Y/n and Tommy, who was sitting in the backseat with a bag of doritos in his lap.

“Redbull,” Tommy says through a mouthful of chips. Billy cringes, turning to look at Y/n, expecting to see the same reaction, instead he’s met with the sight of her staring off into space, lost in her own mind.

“You alright?” Billy lightly taps the back of his hand to Y/n’s shoulder to grab her attention from the dashboard. The woman jumps at the contact, eyes flying up to meet his.

“Y-yeah I’m good. Just- thinking about something. What did you ask?” She sheepishly requests, scratching the back of her neck.

“Want something to drink? I’m running in.” Billy gives a warm reassuring smile. He knew she was a bit spacey, whether it was the weed or her natural demeanor, he didn’t care. To him, she was good company either way. The day they got assigned to that group project together, he didn’t think much of her, just another person that was gonna slack on their end of the work. But as he got to know her, there was a lot more to her than the simple one-track mind that people assumed was in there. When the other two people in their group project had decided to slack off, she had helped him pick up the weight and finish the project with an A. When Billy saw her effort, he decided Y/n was someone worth keeping around. He knew Y/n was smart, the humble kind of smart. She may have put on a facade in front of others but behind it was a beautiful personality that just needs a little more effort to get to know. And in Billy’s opinion, the effort was well worth it.

“A monster would be great, thank you.” She smiles back. Running a hand through her hair to push it out of her face. Taking a deep breath to shake the lingering thoughts from her mind, blinking them out as she turns to face the boys.

“See, she has manners, unlike SOMEBODY.” Billy jokes, whipping his head to look back at Tommy, who comically whips his head to look behind him for the culprit. Billy snorts at his reaction, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Billy, who’s back there?” Tommy asks, his voice quivering, imitating genuine concern. A dramatic, chip-dust covered hand over his chest to clutch his imaginary pearls. His eyes wide and mortified.

“I can’t with you-” Billy bites back a laugh, shaking his head as he gets out of the car. He closes the door before walking into the gas station. Once Tommy sees that Billy has entered the store, he reaches up to the passenger seat, smacking Y/n in the arm with his hand. Y/n gags at the doritos dust he leaves behind in wake of his touch. Quickly wiping her arm clear of any lingering chip dust while grimacing.

“Dude, break one of those joints out.” Tommy requests, a cheeky grin on his face. He wipes his hands off with one of the wet napkins in the backseat, something Billy kept back there specifically for Tommy after a particularly harrowing trip to Wing Stop in the past. Y/n chuckles and rolls her eyes, shaking her head playfully at his request.

“No way, you know Billy is paranoid about his car smelling.” Y/n reasons with a mischievous grin. “Just wait till we get to your place, we can hide out in your old treehouse again and smoke.” Tommy huffs exaggeratedly and leans back in his seat, “Why can’t you be like, ‘sure Tommy, we can go outside the car and smoke?’” He mimics Y/n’s tone.

“It’s cold, I’m not freezing my ass off out there.” Y/n laughs, glancing back at him. He scoffs and retorts, “As if the treehouse won’t be cold.”

“That’s different because we can plug in the space heater up there.” Y/n points out. The treehouse was something Tommy and Billy’s dad had built for them before his and Wanda’s divorce. He put extra care and work into making it the best treehouse the boys could ask for. As over the years Vision’s efforts proved themself, the treehouse had held up tremendously well, only thing different was the red paint that began to fade in shades.

Billy exits the store, a plastic bag in his hand as he enters the car, passing the bag to Tommy to deal out.

“Ew, did you get sparkling water? What are you?” Tommy playfully mocks his twin, passing the bottle up to Y/n so she can put it in the cupholder. At his words, he receives a chuckle from the woman and a glare from Billy through the rearview mirror. “Gay,” Y/n responds for Billy, “He’s gay.” Snorting when Billy smacks her upper arm in a playful scold. Tommy snickers, passing Y/n her monster from the bag before cracking open his own Redbull.

“Says the other gay,” Billy quips, his lips quirking upwards. Y/n grins, a mischievous glint in her eyes, “Takes one to know one.” She jokes, cracking open her can and taking a sip.

Billy and Tommy laugh at her words, settling back in their seats for the rest of the journey. Billy buckles back in his seat, beginning to drive again. Their trip to the Maximoff household is almost complete, only a few more hours ahead of them. The winter clouds brewing a snowstorm above them, dimming the daylight that remained. The heat of the car warmed Y/n’s cheeks, her eyes turning heavy and tired with the comfort. The sound of Britney Spears echoing in the car and filling the silence. Her eyes settled on the fields passing by, and it wasn’t long before her eyes fell shut and soft snores emitted from her.

A few hours later, the tires roll into the driveway, the snow quietly crunching beneath their weight. As Billy pulls the car into park, Tommy reaches up into the passenger seat, delivering a firm but gentle hit to the woman’s arm to wake her. The trio exit the car, collecting their belongings before making their way to the front door. It was painted a bright white with royal blue detailings and a golden doorknob to compliment the colors. A green christmas wreath with bells and ribbons hung from the center. Billy went to grab his keys from his pocket, but before he had the opportunity to pull them out, the door flew open.

Wanda stood before them, a big excited grin on her face as she opened her arms for her boys. She was wearing a grey christmas sweater with black reindeer patterns, a pair of black leggings and fuzzy socks on her feet. Her hair was tied back in a messy bun, a small flick of flour littering her cheek. The big grin on her face dwindled slightly at the sight of the familiar y/h/c in front of her. Nonetheless, forcing the grin again to welcome them.

“Boys! Hug your mother!” She teases, pulling the twins into her arms. A small tinge of annoyance tweaked at the back of her mind, not knowing her boys were gonna have a guest with them. Her least favorite one at that. When they pull away from the hug, Wanda gives the best fake smile she can produce. Her green eyes looked the younger woman up and down, taking in her appearance. The younger woman was in jeans, a hoodie, and an old worn out winter hat, no jacket despite the cold temperatures.

“Hi, Ms. Maximoff,” Y/n pipes up with an awkward smile and a half wave. Not really knowing what to do, especially under the older woman’s intimidating gaze.

“Y/n, nice to see you again. Are you staying with us for Winter break?” She asks, praying the answer was no, but not getting her hopes up entirely. She knew that the chances of the girl coming for a quick visit was very unlikely. “Yeah, we didn’t want her to be alone in the dorms for Christmas.” Billy informs, trying to make his mother seek a little empathy for the girl once he notices the look in Wanda’s eyes. At the words, Wanda’s annoyance dwindles slightly, showing some understanding. She gives the warmest smile she can, opening the door to let them all in. “C’mon, don’t want anyone getting a cold, do we?” She says, nodding her head to gesture to them to come in. Wanda slightly grimacing at the whiff of weed on the younger woman’s hoodie as she passes through.

The group piles in, slipping their shoes off by the door before making their ways to set their belongings in their respective rooms. Y/n silently cursing the fact that the guest room was next to Wanda’s room instead of next to the boys. It would make hiding from Wanda a little harder than anticipated. Y/n sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh, mind flicking through anxious thoughts as she eyed her backpack. She grabbed a joint out, making her way into the bathroom connected between the guest room and Wanda’s. Locking both doors and cracking open the bathroom window, Y/n lights her joint. Letting her anxious worries turn into a comforting euphoria as she leaned against the wall, blowing the smoke out the window. Exhaling her worries out with grey puffs. Anxious thoughts dwindling, it wouldn’t be too hard to stay out of Wanda’s way right? All Y/n had to do was stick to the guest room or stick to Billy and Tommy like a parasite. It wasn’t that Wanda was too intimidating to be around. Maybe it was- despite the point, Wanda was stunning. Y/n didn’t do great around pretty women, she turned into a blubbering blushing mess. And especially older women, and Wanda hit both points dead center. She was absolutely stunning, effortlessly so. As Y/n smoked, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander thoughts of the older woman. How cute that speck of flour on her cheek looked, the whimsical pastel gingerbread men on her fluffy socks, every quirk and trait that had Y/n enamored-

'No- no, absolutely not enamored, this is my best friend’s mother for gods sake.'

Wanda was taking the cookies out of the oven, her mind sorting through her thoughts as she set the baking sheets on the stovetop. She began using a spatula to take the cookies off and set them on the drying racks. But the question lingering in her mind is, why didn’t Y/n have anywhere to go? She knew that Y/n never really mentioned her family but Wanda just chalked that up to the younger woman being a rather private person. From what Wanda had observed being around her, Y/n didn’t talk much, only jutting in with the boys when they’re joking around. Wanda knew nothing about her besides the fact that the younger woman was an English major that liked smoking the good kush and was unreasonably good at Mario Kart. That last one she learned when the boys came home for a weekend with her and they all ended up playing a few rounds while Wanda sat on the couch and observed with a content smile. As much as Wanda disliked the younger woman, she was a good kid despite the smoking. Y/n was always a help after supper, offering to do the dishes up as a ‘thank you’, cleaning up after herself, just random chores to help. Maybe, Wanda could try to make peace with the woman. Maybe a few weeks of winter break with her boys and Y/n couldn’t be so bad… Right? She just needed to try to be more understanding, maybe get to know her better. It was for the boys sake, right? Not the fact that she did find the younger woman attractive and a little endearing. Especially with how nervous and bashful she looks whenever Wanda is around, or that cute glimmer in her eyes when she won Mario Kart last time. What was she thinking? It's her son's friend, she can't think like that.

Then the scent hit her.

Wanda ran over to the oven, whipping it open and using an oven mit to take out the last tray of cookies. Slightly burnt and crispy as they clung on to the baking sheet. A small unconscious pout falling on her lips, her brows furrowing as she sets them on the oven. Turning off the oven and shutting it closed. “Damn it,” Wanda mutters, tossing the oven mit on the counter before making her way over to the cookies on the drying rack. Their gold hue mocking the burnt ones. Letting out a sigh, she turned to walk out of the kitchen to give them time to cool down. As she makes her way up the stairs, a faint smile graces her lips, hearing her boys chat in their room as they unpack. She goes to her bedroom to grab her phone off it’s charger, but pauses in her steps. Her nose tipping up as she sniffs the air, smelling something familiar, something burning. Her eyes widen slightly as she makes her way to the connected bathroom, knocking heavily.

“Y/n, you better not be smoking in my house!” She calls through the door, annoyance peeking through her tone.

Y/n freezes, eyes wide in fear and embarrassment of being caught. Quickly snubbing the joint out in the sink and stuffing the remaining half in her hoodie pocket. Panic filling her mind, what happens when she leaves this bathroom? Is she gonna be kicked out? Is she gonna get a lecture from Wanda?

She didn’t know, but boy was she scared to find out. But she took a deep breath, mustering up her courage before unlocking the door and opening it, revealing the brunette before her. Wanda’s eyebrow quirked as the scent grew stronger.

“Hiiii, Wanda.” Y/n drawls out, giving a guilty smile, sheepishly lowering her head to brace for the woman’s reaction. But to her surprise, a small laugh breaks past Wanda’s lips.

That guilty smile tugged at Wanda’s heartstrings in a way she couldn’t help. A small smile that Wanda tried to fight back, and a hint of amusement in her eyes, but she quickly tries to cover both.

“If you’re gonna smoke, go outside.” She reminds, lightly flicking the younger woman in the forehead before entering the bathroom to light a candle to get rid of the smell. Y/n’s eyes widen almost comically, surprised that Wanda didn’t raise her voice.

“Sorry, I know.” Y/n’s cheeks flush pink as she scratches at the back of her neck. Her eyes following as the older woman enters her bedroom again, standing before her.

“It’s alright, just don’t let me catch you again.” Wanda hums playfully, “Now c’mon, I need you and the boys to help me decorate all those cookies, wouldn't want my baking to be for not.” Nodding her head towards the door with a small smile, Wanda heads out into the hall.

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Authors Note- Okay, how are we feeling?

[ashwhowrites]

Hi! Can you please write something abt Eddie x Cheerleader! Reader? Like they met at detention and Eddie was surprised bc “Hawkins High Princess” was at detention, maybe they started to sneak out and went to the bench at the woods, and after some time, they fell in love?

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Hawkins princess

Eddie knew the route to detention like the back of his hand. It was a routine he did almost daily. Walking down the hallway to the small classroom filled with the other delinquents.

He took the chair in the back corner, as always, and propped his dirty sneakers on the table. He crossed his arms and slanted his head down, preparing for an afternoon nap.

He looked up when people gasped as the doors opened. He was shocked to see Y/N shuffling inside.

She sat near the front, and Eddie was already picking up his stuff. He slammed his body right next to her spot, a dazzling smirk on his face.

She eyed him but didn't say the first word.

"What the hell did the Hawkins princess do to land in here?" He asked, his voice was loud. She sat in her cheerleading uniform, growing uncomfortable from the eyes on her.

"Punched Jason in the jaw," she said as she rolled her eyes. She'd do it again with no regrets.

Eddie's smirk grew as he looked impressed

"Well damn, I think you deserve an award for that." Eddie joked

"Yeah well, no one else thought so." She shrugged. She was a bit annoyed she got called into dentition for it. He practically asked for it.

"Eddie Munson right?" She asked, turning her body to face him. A look in her eyes.

"The one and only" he smiled

"You know how to get out of here?" She whispered, leaning closer

"Oh baby, I do." He said, grabbing her hand and racing out the doors.

She laughed as they ran to his van, she could hear teachers yelling but she loved that Eddie kept going.

He peeled off on two tires as she held on to the door. She didn't ask where they were going to go, she weirdly trusted him.

And that's where their adventure began.

~~~

She didn't get a dentition after that, but that didn't mean she stopped seeing him. She'd skip out of practice and knock on the door, once he saw her he was taking off. Then they'd run and run.

Their destination changed how they felt. Sometimes they cruised on the roads until they found a beach, or they went down the street for burgers and fries. Sometimes they went to Eddie's or she snuck him in her bedroom.

She loved how fun he was and how spontaneous he could be.

"Wanna go smoke?" He asked, they reached his van but he didn't open the doors.

"I don't smoke but I'll sit with you." She offered. She would sit and do nothing with him, his presence was enough to entertain her.

"Sweet. I got a place" he winked and took her hand again.

She felt her heart racing as they walked through the woods, his hand tight as it held hers.

She never thought she'd find herself crushing on Eddie, but boy was she fucked. It was weeks of sneaking out to be alone with him, and she was captivated by his persona. He was just as crazy, loud, and obnoxious as he was in school, and she found herself loving it.

"Here she is!" He said, letting go of her hand to proudly show off the tiny wooden bunch. "My second favorite girl," he said as he knocked on the wood and took a seat.

"Who's number one?" Y/N asked as she sat on the bench across from him, secretly hoping he'd grab her and place her right next to him.

"You," he said with another wink, making her body heat up as she tried to play it off

He got busy working on his joint as she watched. She squirmed at the way his fingers perfectly rolled the paper. And she held back a moan as his tongue swiped across the paper to seal it. She never knew how attractive Eddie could be.

He lit the end and the smoke filled the air. She silently watched as he puffed on the joint, the way his lips wrapped around the end. The way he inhaled and his neck stretched.

The smell filled her nose and knocked her into reality.

"Wanna try?" He asked

"No, thanks. Chrissy would kill me." Y/N laughed

"Didn't you punch her boyfriend then skip out on multiple practices?" Eddie laughed

"Eh all worth it." She laughed with him.

Eddie held the joint with his mouth as he reached for her hand. "Healed nice." He said, muffled by the joint but she knew what he said.

She felt her face blush as he softly traced her skin.

"Can I ask you something?" She asked

He nodded and returned his hand to smoke the joint the correct way.

"Wanna go to my place? My parents are out for the weekend." She asked, and she asked in a way that Eddie knew what she meant.

He coughed the smoke out of his lungs. He tried to keep his cool but inside his brain was cheering and patting himself on the back.

"Oh hell yes"

That night they went further than ever before. They kissed, made out, and had sex. All weekend long. They barely left the sheets, just soaking in each other from sunrise to sunset.

That weekend she realized she was falling for him.

~~~

"I can't keep covering your ass for the coach. She's pissed you ditched out on weekend practice." Chrissy said, sitting next to Y/N as the cafeteria filled.

"It's the weekend. I'm not spending it with her." Y/N scoffed

"Well, I have an idea who you spent it with" Chrissy smirked, flicking the dark spot on Y/N's neck.

"Ow!" Y/N flinched

"Spill," Chrissy said, somehow getting closer to Y/N.

Y/N sighed and looked over at Eddie, Chrissy followed her eyes and gasped. Causing the table to look at her.

"What?" Jason asked, his black eye now returning to a normal color.

"Nothing. Mind your business." Y/N snapped. Once the table went back to their conversations, Chrissy silently squealed.

"Bad boy of Hawkins? Oh I know he's dirty." Chrissy teased, she looked back at Eddie and then back to her.

"Oh you are gross" Y/N laughed as she shoved Chrissy's shoulder.

"Oh come on! Give me some details. I tell you mine!" Chrissy begged

"Yeah and it makes me sick," Y/N said with a mocking smile. But she knew she'd give in.

"It is dirty but that's all I'm gonna say!" Y/N laughed, Chrissy fanned herself as she acted out.

"Next sleepover you are telling me everything!"

"One problem though," Y/N sighed, "I really like him"

"So? Ask him out" Chrissy shrugged, like it was the easiest thing to do.

"Ask who out?" Jason but in

Y/N rolled her eyes and kept her attention on Chrissy

"Trust me, I've thought about it. But what if he isn't interested? He doesn't look like the relationship type." She sighed and her eyes trailed over to Eddie once more. He laughed with Dustin, shaking the boy's body.

"You wanna date the freak?" Jason scoffed

"He's not a freak." She said annoyed. Already tired of giving him her time. "But yes, I wanna ask Eddie out."

"That's social suicide and might lead to actual suicide," Jason argued

"Jason shut it." Chrissy snapped

"You know what Jason? I should have blackened your other eye. Save you from having to watch this." Y/N snapped. She grabbed her backpack and walked straight over to Eddie's table.

"incoming!" Mike said as Y/N marched over to their table.

Eddie looked at Mike and followed his eyes. Eddie straightened in his chair and quickly fluffed his hair.

"You look good, don't worry," Dustin whispered as he patted Eddie's shoulder.

"Y/N?" Eddie asked once she made it over. He looked over her shoulder and saw her table staring at him

"Stand up," she demanded and he quickly obeyed

He stood up, very confused about what was happening

Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and smashed her lips on his. She didn't keep it little, she shoved her tongue down his throat and tangled her hands in his hair.

He felt his breath being taken away but made sure to kiss her back. His hands slipped down to her ass as he proudly groped her in the middle of the cafeteria.

The hellfire table stared at them with shock and amusement

Chrissy watched proudly

And the rest of the table watched with disgust

They pulled away, and Y/N smiled at Eddie's dazed face.

"Wanna go out, Munson? Try a real date?" Her arms were still hooked around his neck as she smiled

"Fuck yes" he breathed out as he caught his breath back

"Pick me up 7" she winked as she walked back to her table

Eddie blinked a thousand times, watching her walk away with her hips swaying.

"Dude! Nice!" Gareth cheered as he slammed his hands on Eddie's shoulders.

Did that really just happen?

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

[fadedncity]

give me the greenlight

wc: 19.0k…y'all i genuinely don't know how

pairing: mark x fem!reader

cw: smut, street racing au, childhood friends to lovers, non idol au, college au, lil angst, fluff, mention of other idols, slight allusions to a toxic ex, alcohol consumption, use of marijuana, mark's lowkey a big flirt, switch!mark, switch!reader, auralism, thigh riding, dirty talk, pet names, praising, teasing, marking, fingering, semi public sex, car sex, oral sex (giving/receiving), exhibitionism (barely), multiple orgasms, protected sex, aftercare, way more plot than i expected, lmk if i missed anything

[9:16 PM] FRIDAY

"Come on. The cops are gonna bust it before we even get there!" Summer stomped her heels like a whiny child.

"You know these things never start on time, we will be fine," you said, coming down the stairs.

"You could always go ahead of us and we'll meet you there," Nyla said, checking herself in the mirror, "Oh wait, you can't drive," she deadpanned.

"Only temporarily," Summer rolled her eyes.

"Only until your suspension is lifted," you reminded.

"One of you could let me borrow a car. It's only an issue if I get caught." Summer says matter of factly, like either of you would side with her.

"That is the issue, sweetie, you did get caught." Nyla pats Summer's cheek.

Summer crossed her arms, again acting like a moody toddler.

"Let's go," you grabbed your keys off the table, "Thought you didn't wanna be late." You said to Summer, heading out the door.

With an annoyed huff, Summer gathered her things and followed you and Nyla out the door.

The three of you got into your car, the gentle purr of the engine coming to life once you put the key in the ignition, sending vibrations through the entire vehicle. Music filtered through the speakers as you pulled out of your spot and took off down the street.

"Hyuck said to make sure you turn your lights off when you're coming up," Summer relayed a message she received from Haechan once you were halfway there.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," you waved off.

You turned off your headlights once you neared the exit, moving offroad. You carefully drove into the woods on unpaved ground, heading deeper into the darkness as the distant streetlights weren't doing anything to assist your sight anymore. 

"I always hate this part," Nyla says from the passenger seat.

"Gotta make sure we don't get caught if any cops are hiding around here." You said.

"I know, but it always feels like the beginning of a horror movie. And you know the hot ones always die first," Nyla pouted.

You found the opening in the fence, worn down from being driven over so many times, and pulled into the abandoned army base, finally able to cut your lights back on.

The sound of music playing and tires screeching on the pavement could already be heard from the runway the meet was on, and you were still a few hangars away.

You slow down once you reach the crowd taking over the runway. People move out of the way as you cruise down the road, looking for a spot to park.

"Ain't that Johnny over there," Summer pointed from the backseat.

"I'd recognize that giant beanstalk anywhere," you say before honking your horn, startling the Aquarius and getting his attention.

"Wow, the princess actually graces us with her presence on this lovely night," Johnny curtsies, and you scoff.

"Just move out the way before I run your ass over." you tell him.

You backed your car into the spot next to Johnny, and your friends practically jumped out of the vehicle before you could put it in park. You hadn't even closed your door when Johnny embraced you in a tight hug. 

"Jesus, John, gonna crack a rib," you gasp.

"Feels like we don't see you at these things anymore," He let you go.

"Come on, it hasn't been that long. I was here like a few weeks ago."

"For like 20 minutes. You left before you could even see me smoke Jungwoo," he crossed his arms over his chest.

You remember that night. You had totally forgotten the assignment you had due at 11:59 and raced back home to turn it in on time.

"Shit. That's my bad. You know it's just stuff with the garage and school and…stuff," you trail off.

"Yeah, I get it," Johnny slung his arm around you, "You're doing good though, kiddo," you both started following behind Nyla and Summer as they wandered off.

"How do you figure?"

"Made it further than me. I had already dropped out by this point," Johnny said, sharing a laugh.

The music came from every direction with people displaying their boosted sound systems out of their trunks. All cars of different makes and models lined the sides of the track. The ones not focusing on the races were too busy gawking at the expensive modifications under the hoods of those showing them off.

"Last chance. Winner take all," you instantly recognize Chenle's voice over the rest of the clamor.

You watch Summer reach into her bag, giving Chenle an indescribable amount, looking proud of herself.

"Who're you betting on?" Johnny asks her. 

"Yeri, duh," she answered. 

"You sure that was a good choice?" he teases.

"Obviously. Hyuck ain't got shit on her." 

"Yeah, alright," Johnny rolled his eyes, taking a bit of offense himself.

"Where is Haechan, by the way? He's up next," Jeno says.

"Over there talking to Jaemin," Chenle nodded to the opposite side of the runway where Jaemin's car was parked.

You spotted the back of Haechan's head, speaking to Jaemin through the window of his car, probably checking the police scanner and making sure you're all still in the clear, no doubt. Then your eyes land on the guy standing next to him, recognizing his silhouette.

"Oh my god, is that-" Summer starts.

"Mark Lee?" you will your vision to focus from this distance to see clearer. "Mark's back in town and no one said anything?" you hit Johnny's arm.

"You would know if you were here." Chenle shrugged.

"I'm sorry, who is Mark?" Nyla asks.

Everyone turned and looked at Nyla.

"Mark Lee? How do you not know Mark?" Summer says, showing Nyla his Instagram.

"How did you pull that up so fast?" Renjun asks.

"Holy shit, he's good," Nyla says, impressed, and you already know Summer pulled up one of the videos of him racing.

"Better be. I taught him." Johnny smiles like a proud father. "We all go way back," he says, "Ain't that right?" Johnny nudges your arm.

Way back. 

Way back when you used to spend hours at the garage with your father after school and only knew Johnny as your father's best and favorite (unconfirmed) employee. And Mark was some boy from your high school that you didn't even know until you went to your first dig.

Way back doesn't even feel that far away anymore now seeing him. It almost feels exactly like the night you met after you snuck out to the first car meet.

"If your father knew you were here, he would lose his shit. If he found out I let you drive, he would have my head. You are not getting into any car—getting behind any wheel tonight under any circumstances. Do you understand?" Johnny said. 

"But-" 

"Aht, I mean it," he said, shooting you down before changing the subject, "You know Mark, right?" Johnny asked. 

"No, I don't know Mark." 

"Well, this is Mark," Johnny said, yanking the boy out of a conversation to introduce the both of you. "You mind keeping each other company, and make sure she stays out of..everything," Johnny not so quietly muttered to Mark. "I'm up next, so be good while I'm gone," Johnny patted your head before he hopped in his car, leaving the two of you alone. 

"I can't image he's much less of a jackass at work." Mark joked. 

"He definitely isn't. I don't think it's something he can turn off," you laughed before you looked over at him, "How'd you know I'm from the garage?" you asked. 

"Johnny said you might be here tonight. He talks about you all the time, like a little sister he's never had," Mark tells you. 

"Oh really? What else has he said?" 

"You're one hell of a driver."

"Come on, it's starting," Summer pulling on your arm, tore you out of your thoughts, and you realize Mark's no longer in your sight, having lost him in the crowd.

People gather on either side of the runway, cheering as Haechan's electric blue supra pulled up next to Yeri's lavender-wrapped GT-R at the spray-painted line that served as the starting and finish line.

Chenle stood in front of them, looking at both drivers. He raised his arms, both drivers reviving up their cars. Haechan burns out his tires, kicking up smoke behind his car before Chenle drops his arms, and both speed off past him down the road.

Through all the commotion, you spotted Mark again, and before you could even think about it, you were already weaving your way through the crowd to get to him.

"So you thought you could just come back to town and not say anything to anybody?" you say, getting his attention.

Mark's eyes light up, no longer concerned with the race upon seeing you.

"I just got in yesterday, but heard you were gonna be here tonight. So I thought I'd surprise you."

"Consider me surprised."

You take the time to notice everything about him, the things that have changed and the things that haven't. Like his hair, no longer dark with the typical schoolboy cut. It's now grown out and blonde—that was as much as you could tell from the beanie it was all tucked underneath. But nothing about his face is much different than how you remember it. Still the same soft eyes you can get yourself lost in and the sweet smile that used to bring one to your face.

"So who's your money on?" Mark asks you.

"You know I'm not throwing anything unless I really got something to lose," you say, "But if I did put my money on one of them it would definitely be Yeri. She's winning this."

"Yeah, she's a good driver but don't you know what Haechan has under his hood?"

"Yeah, but it's no match for what's under Yeri's. And I would know. I put it all together myself," you smiled proudly.

You heard the cars approaching, closing in on the finishing line. From this distance, it's hard to tell who's winning, but you aren't as eager as the rest of the crowd cheering on either side to see who would make it to the end first.

The cars blurred past you, wind whipping behind them, blowing your hair out of place a bit as you turned to Mark.

"Now would you look at that," you smiled as Yeri was announced as the winner, "I know it's been a while Mark, but the last thing you should forget is that I'm always right."

"Trust, there isn't anything about you I could forget," Mark says before excusing himself to provide Haechan with moral support.

You don't know why fluttering kicks up in your stomach at his words, and you can't fight the smirk that stretches across your face as you watch him walk away. But you try to ignore it and go to congratulate Yeri on her win.

[10:32 PM] 

"Okay but like I almost had her," Haechan continues to explain. 

You hadn't been listening to Haechan, finding yourself too entranced with looking at Mark talking to Jungwoo and Yuqi a few feet away from you; you didn't even notice Nyla approaching.

"So like were you two a thing?" Nyla asks, startling you.

"What? Me and Mark?" you furrow your brows, "No, no, we were just friends."

"You were close?" she asks.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that." you tell her.

"This one yours?" Mark asks, getting your attention.

"I'm standing next to it, aren't I?" you reply, running your hand over the top of your car.

"And as good as you look doing it, I just wonder if you're still as good at driving it as I remember."

"You think I lost my touch while you were away?" you push yourself away from your car, shortening the distance between the both of you.

Mark shrugs, "You tell me," he smirks.

"You know I'm more show than tell," the corners of your lips turn up.

"Is anybody else seeing this?" Nyla looks around, asking.

"Like old times?" you smile.

"Just like old times," he replies.

"For how much?" you ask.

"Let's just settle with $200 for now, nothing too serious."

"Afraid I'd clean you straight out?" you teased, "Fine by me."

Everyone's now tuned into the exchange between the two of you, a mix of reactions to what was going on with you and Mark.

"Oh shit, this is gonna be good," Haechan slid off the hood of his car, engaging in the action.

"Are they really doing this right now?" Renjun asks.

"You best believe they are. Time to make a profit—Place your bets now!" Yangyang began yelling into the crowd as you and Mark started your cars.

"You two ready?" Ten asks, standing in front of your vehicles at the starting line.

"Unless Mark's having second thoughts," you look over at Mark in his car.

Mark smirked, "Are you?"

"Hell no," you revved up your engine.

With Ten's signal, your foot hovers over the gas pedal. Bringing his hands down, you and Mark take off down the runway.

You're instantly transported back to the summer nights you and Mark spent driving around abandoned warehouses and garages.

You remember staying out for hours—most times til the sun came up, trying to perfect drifting. The amounts of tires you blew out and dents you inflicted on the car you had then led the two of you to spend your days in your father's garage, repairing the damage.

You prepare yourself for the turn coming up on the track that had been carved out. It's almost as if you and Mark move in perfect sync as you shift your gears. Your tires glide on the concrete, smoothly drifting your car around the corner, a bit of smoke trailing behind you from the burning rubber.

With as fast as you were both going, you should've expected the race to end as soon as it started. And when you both drove over the finish line, it was almost hard to tell who won. But you had Mark by a fender.

"I see you have forgot I always win too," You say to Mark as Ten hands you the money, "But that's the first real race I've had in a while, so thank you for that."

"If you're really that appreciative then how about we go again," Mark offers.

"I don't wanna take anymore of your money, Mark," you say teasingly.

He rolls his eyes before leaning out of his car, "If you really don't, how about if I win, you let me take you out."

It was the last thing you expected to hear come out of Mark's mouth. You would almost describe his demeanor as cocky, but you've seen cocky, and the confidence has never looked so good on someone.

Who is this man, and what has he done with the Mark Lee you knew? 

But you weren't going to back down just because your heartbeat picks up, and you know it's not just from the adrenaline.

"How about when I win?" you ask.

He pauses, thinking for a second before saying, "You get my car."

Your eyes light up at the proposition, "Have fun walking home tonight, Markie," you laugh.

"Bitch, if you don't let him win," Summer says, coming up to your window.

"There's no way in hell I'm doing that. Do you see that car?" you say.

"Do you see that man? He wants to take me out, who am I to put a question mark where the universe placed a period?" Nyla says, looking at Mark while he talks to Haechan.

"Look, if there are no hard feelings after I give that car a few adjustments, maybe a new paint job, and Mark still wants to take me out, he can," you shrugged.

"Trust me, he'll want to. He's been eyeing you all night." Summer hits your arm.

"Shut up, he has not," you swat her away.

"Excuse me, ladies, but if you don't mind, my man Mark has a date to win," Haechan says, making it clear who he was rooting for.

"Yeah, keep on wishing, Hyuck," Summer yelled back, "You better fucking win now." she tells you.

It was Jeno this time who stood between both cars raising his arms, giving you and Mark the signal to get set. With a nod, Jeno drops his arms, and your car accelerates, taking off, Mark right there beside you. Your entire focus was on the road ahead of you, not even Mark, who would steal glances at you from time to time.

You start getting some distance between your cars, already thinking about the new rims you'd order. But all that flies out the window when you spot a cat in the road ahead of you.

You had two choices; stop or swerve into the muddy ditch to your left, as any third option would leave someone getting hurt, so you didn't even consider it. Slamming on the breaks, you come to a quick stop as the cat stands in front of your car.

"Motherfucker," you muttered under your breath.

As Mark passed you, you swore you could've heard his laugh in the wind.

You swerved around the cat, applying heavy weight to the gas, getting back into your lane, and catching back up with Mark once you approached the turn. By the time you reached the top end, you were only about an inch away from pulling ahead of Mark's car.

You heard the distorted whirls of screams filter in through your windows as you both drove over the line, everyone cheering for the winner.

"Fuck," you whined.

You really wanted that Evo.

"Did you actually let him win?" Summer asks, stunned.

"Fuck no. There was a cat on the runway, I didn't wanna hit it," you say, slamming your door shut.

"Are you serious?" Renjun asks with a laugh.

"How the fuck else would there be a way to explain how I lost?" you say.

"You wanted to let him wi-" Johnny's cut off by Mark's hand over his mouth.

"It's true, I saw it run across," Mark attests, "But still if rules are rules and winning is winning..." he shrugs with a smile.

"You got lucky, Mark. Don't let it go to your head too much," you cross your arms over your chest.

"May be a little too late for that," Mark says, eyeing you up and down.

"Jesus, were they always like this?" Nyla asks, handing Johnny the money she placed on you.

"I have no idea where the fuck any of this came from. What am I even watching right now?" Johnny says, taking the cash.

"Hey! Did you bet against me?" you ask Johnny.

"Sorry, kid. It's just business," Johnny yells back, counting the money.

"Fucking traitor," you grumble.

Then you hear the static coming from the coms (walkie-talkies, but the boys say it's immature and insist on saying coms instead), Jisung relaying something to Chenle.

"Oh shit," Chenle said, "Cops! Cops are coming!" he yelled.

Everything stopped, and everyone scattered like roaches when the lights came on.

People were running in all different directions, jumping into anything on wheels to get away. You got into your car, searching the crowd for Nyla and Summer because you weren't gonna leave without them if they arrived with you. But you caught them getting into Jaehyun's car, so you drove away.

You heard the sirens getting closer, watching the red and blue lights flash in your rearview as you made your getaway from the old army base. Only you and a few others had the same idea of using the same way you came in to get out since the cops were coming from the main entrance, trying to round everyone up. Or at least the ones that weren't fast enough.

You cut off your headlights, driving through the woods to get to the highway, when you heard your phone vibrating in your cup holder before answering it.

"You guys okay?" you ask Nyla.

"Yeah, pretty sure everyone made it out. Where are you?" Nyla asks.

"On my way to the garage to drop the car. Then I'm going over to Johnny's."

"Alright, we'll see you there."

"Alright." you hung up.

[12:26 AM] SATURDAY 

As you walked up to Johnny's street, you could already see the partying had continued as if it was never interrupted.

Cars were double parked, taking up the entire street in front of the house. People were scattered all over the lawn, still carrying on as if you all didn't just have to run for your lives to end up here. You could already hear the music from inside Johnny's house as you walked up the front steps.

"You know, the whole point of coming over here is to lay low and not attract the attention of the cops right back to us again." you say to Johnny, finding him first on the front porch.

"It'll be fine, none of the neighbors are gonna complain," Johnny says without an ounce of worry on his face as he rolls a joint.

Before you walk into the house, you stop and ask Johnny again, "You really bet against me?"

"Look, it's not that I think he's the better racer," Johnny pauses to wet the ends of the papers with his tongue, "But you weren't gonna pass up a chance to let him take you out," he teases.

Johnny begins laughing as you hit his arm, "I told you it was the fucking cat."

You leave Johnny, still laughing, on the porch, entering the house. Making your way through the crowded hallway, you reach the kitchen, finding Nyla, Summer, and Jaehyun along with Goeun.

"Finally, what took you so long? Almost hit another cat on your way over?" Summer asks, sipping on her drink.

"Haha, very fucking funny," you spit, flipping her off.

"Here, calm down, and take this," Johnny hands you the lit joint.

"Where do you even think the cat came from? Was it alone? What if it was a mother and she had a litter? Oh my god no, we have to go back and find it," Goeun asks, making it very clear she's already a few shots in.

Now if someone brings that cat up one more time…

"Can we please just stop talking about the cat," you sigh, taking one last drag.

Passing off the joint to Jaehyun, your mind was already growing hazy, your body feeling less weighed down, and you wandered out of the kitchen. You spot Jaemin and Jeno in the backyard smoking with Yuqi, Mingi, and Doyeon. Yuqi lifts the joint toward you, offering before you tell her you're good for now. You were then drawn to the living room when you heard Haechan's voice going back and forth with another's.

"Dude, stop running me over!" Haechan complained.

"Stop getting in my way!" Sunwoo yelled back.

The two boys had planted themselves in front of the TV, quickly moving their fingers over the controls in their hands as they played GTA. Aside from the ones entertained by Hyuck and Sunwoo playing, the living room was packed with others dancing, drinking, and smoking, so you didn't even attempt to make your way through.

You spun on your heels and continued to meander around the house. But you were stopped in your tracks when you were approached by Mark.

"Peace offering?" Mark hands you a drink.

"You know I'm not actually mad about losing, Mark. At least not to you," you take the cup from him, sipping the contents as he leans against the walls next to you.

"Does that mean, if I would've just asked you instead; a date or my car, you would've chosen-"

"Your car, definitely," you say, "Mark, you're cute and all but your car...That's like a wet dream on wheels," you tell him, and he bursts into laughter. 

"You think I'm cute?" he asks, raising a brow at you.

It registers that that is what you said to him, even without realizing it. But it's not like it's a lie, so you don't deny it.

"I do." Always have. "And fortunately, you still have your car. So where do you plan on taking me in it?"

"I'm not telling you that."

You scoff, "Why not?"

"It's a surprise."

"I hate surprises." you whine.

"You didn't seem to hate me surprising you tonight."

"That's different."

"You'll like this one," Mark tells you.

"What if you're wrong and I hate it?"

"You won't." Mark wasn't going to crack, depriving you of the information.

"Fine. But when I imagine you've planned out the most extravagant date of the century, and it doesn't meet my expectations and turns out the be the worst date of my life, I will never let you live it down, Mark Lee," you say.

He laughed at your dramatics, "I'll take that chance."

"Can I at least know when to expect this to happen?" you ask.

"Are you free tomorrow?"

"I can be."

"Perfect. I'll pick you up at 6."

"Who gets dinner at 6. We aren't seniors, Mark."

"Who said I was just taking you dinner?" he tilts his head. 

"You've only been here about 36 hours and I've only known you're back for three of them, how could you have possibly planned something already?"

"Just gotta trust me," he says, lifting his cup to lips, "And wear something nice. Not too nice. But nice."

"Wow, Mark, that is so helpful." 

"I do what I can," he smiles at you rolling your eyes. 

Mark only breaks eye contact when he feels the intruding gaze of another.

"Okay, I don't know if it's just me, but why does Leo look like he wants to hit me with his car."

Ignoring any subtleties, you turn to find exactly what Mark was talking about. Across the room, you see Leo leaning against a wall, drinking his beer, and glaring at you and Mark. 

You scoff and wave it off, "It's nothing. He's just trying that big bad intimidating ex-boyfriend shit. Thinks it's actually gonna work and bring me right back into his arms," you sip your drink.

"No way you dated him," Mark stares at you, jaw dropped, "Jesus, I leave and you suddenly lose your taste in men."

"Shut up," you shove him with a laugh.

A soft smile comes to your face as you find yourself getting lost in Mark's eyes. That was until you were interrupted by someone calling your name to get your attention.

Mark could feel his posture correcting itself as Yeonjun approached the corner you both occupied, you with open arms.

Yeonjun was another ex of yours. But you only dated for a couple months in high school before ending things on good terms, agreeing to just stay friends.

"Should've known if there was gonna be one person to actually get you out there on the track, it would be Mark," Yeonjun says, "What's up, man," he greets Mark.

"Hey, man," Mark nods.

It's not like Mark had anything against the man. They were pretty well acquainted through you and the other mutual friends he shared with Yeonjun. But it was the little prick of a feeling some may describe as a bit of jealousy Mark gets when he sees Yeonjun with you sometimes. Especially now, considering how close you and Yeonjun were before, Mark can only imagine what it's like now, and he's suddenly regretting all the time he's missed.

"Yeah, since he's not a little bitch and can actually give me a race worth my while," you tease Yeonjun, putting a smile on Mark's face.

"Oh, I know you're not grouping me in with the rest of them," Yeonjun pointed over his shoulder, "fell for the trap last time, and it cost me a Camaro."

"Don't worry. You know she's been in good hands," you say.

"Yeah. And you wasted no time with a new paint job, I see," Yeonjun crossed his arms over his chest.

"It was very much needed. I don't know what it is with you guys and that horrendous orange," you scrunch your face.

"So pink was the obvious answer?" Yeonjun asks.

"It's fuchsia, actually. And yes, it was," you nod, making both of them laugh. 

Your exchange with Yeonjun is cut short when he hears Wooyoung calling him from the other room. 

"I'll catch you guys later. Good seeing you, Mark," Yeonjun nods at Mark as he leaves, Mark doing the same.

"So, let me get this straight; you raced me in a car you already won from Yeonjun, trying to win mine," Mark crosses his arms.

"First, you offered up your car. Second, I've never had a Mitsubishi," You say.

"Good thing I won then," he laughs, and you shoot him a death glare. "Thought there were no hard feelings," he responds to your expression.

"Don't start poking the bear, Lee."

[3:37 AM]

You and Mark barely separated from one another all night, the two of you now sitting in the backyard, still smoking the joint Jaemin left for you two to finish.

"You okay over there?" Mark's voice breaks the peaceful silence and brings you back to reality. You look over at Mark, and your face splits into a smile before you burst into laughter.

"What?" Mark starts laughing along with you.

"Nothing. Sorry I'm just.." you couldn't find the words to even describe what's going on in your head right now, "incredibly high," you sigh.

Mark continues laughing with you, soothing the embarrassment you feel prick up your spine. 

"I missed this. And I missed you," Mark says.

"Me too," you smile, "All I could think about the whole night was how much it felt like the first time we met."

"Oh, you mean the same night Johnny almost got bagged?" Mark starts laughing uncontrollably as the memory comes back.

"Yes," you begin laughing as well.

"Do you remember the panic on his face when he was running," he manages to say between gasps for air. 

"I've never seen Johnny so scared," you say, your lungs begging for oxygen as you continue to laugh.

"I heard my name, you two talking about me?" Johnny steps out onto the deck.

"Yeah, and that first meet I went to when I saved your ass from the cops," you say.

Johnny scoffed, "What are you talking about?"

"Dude, how could you not remember?" Mark asks, "It was right after you raced Changkyun and you were busy talking to Yves and Jun when the cops showed up." he says.

"But good thing you left the keys in the car and since Mark was too busy freaking out, someone had to do something," you add.

"Alright, I was not freaking out," Mark says.

"It was a mild freak out," you say to him.

"Huh," Johnny nods, looking as if he's going through the archives of his memory, "I very vaguely remember that happening," Johnny says as he lights another joint.

"Maybe if you didn't smoke so much you'd remember," you mutter, sipping your water.

"I know you're not talking," Johnny pointed at you with the spliff between his lips.

"Sungchan's passed out on the front lawn," Haechan comes outside to tell Johnny.

"Okay, find Jeno or Jae and move him upstairs," Johnny says.

"Jeno already left and no one's seen Jaehyun in a while," Haechan says.

"Shit," Johnny sighs, taking a drag, "Mark, come on," he hits Mark's shoulder.

"Now how'd I get dragged into this?" Mark asks.

"Man, just come help us get him upstairs," Johnny tells Mark. With an annoyed grumble, Mark gets up, and you laugh as Mark follows the other two back into the house.

You only went back inside to refill your cup with more water when you bumped into Yeonjun again.

"Hey, you're still here." Yeonjun says.

"Yeah," you answer with a lazy smile.

He laughs at your hazy state, "You good?"

"I'm great," you reply.

Yeonjun smiles, "Well we're about to head out. Do you need a ride home?"

You only had two choices; either walk home or crash here at Johnny's. But now Yeonjun's presenting you with this third choice, and it definitely is tempting.

But Mark.

"I'm good," you nod.

"Okay, I'll see you later."

"I'll see you," you wave as Yeonjun runs off to catch up with the rest of his friends, getting into Hwiyoung's car.

This is when you finally notice how much things have calmed down. The cars lining the streets were no longer taking up the whole block. Now, the house was cleared out of mostly everyone, save for the ones who were crashing there for the night. 

"Are you heading out?" Mark asks, coming down the stairs.

"I mean, I probably should. I'm exhausted and I've got to rest up for this big date we have tomorrow," you say.

"You're not driving, right?"

"Of course not. I'm not too far."

"I'll take you."

"Mark, you are not driving either," you say, knowing he's also been drinking and smoking.

"I know. I'm walking you," Mark says, "Let me go grab my phone," he brushes past you and back out to the backyard.

"Hey," you heard from someone else coming down the stairs.

You furrow your brows at your roommate, "You're actually still here? Where have you been all night?" You ask Nyla.

"You know…around," she answered.

It was then you noticed Nyla wearing a shirt she didn't leave the house in, but you don't say anything about it at the moment.

"You ready to go?" Mark asks you.

"Wait, you're leaving?" Nyla asks.

"Yup," you answer.

"Do you want me to go with you?" she asks.

"Do you want to go with me?" you ask her.

Before she can answer, Jaehyun comes down the stairs buttoning up a shirt he wasn't wearing before, smirking at your best friend as he walks past to the kitchen.

Nyla looked internally conflicted, so you made the decision for her. "You can stay. Mark's gonna walk me home."

"Mark, you're an angel," Nyla grabs his face. "I love you. Text me when you're home," she says to you, kissing your cheek.

"You better be using protection. I'm too young to be an auntie," you say sternly to her.

"You'd be one hot auntie, though," she winks over her shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen.

"You sure would be," Mark mumbles as he leans against the doorframe.

"Mark, don't start with me," you glare at him as you walk out of the house.

"What do you mean?" he asks, following you.

"The Mark Lee I knew couldn't flirt to save his life. But now, you keep saying things like that and with you looking like this," you sighed, "It makes things confusing."

"How?" he asks.

"Cause you're Mark."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

You don't know how you're supposed to answer him. "I'm not telling you."

"Well, do you want me to stop?"

You took a second to answer, "No."

For a few minutes, you only walked in comfortable silence before you broke it. "So how long are you staying?" you ask.

"Don't know yet. My brother's wedding is next month so I came back to help with preparations and stuff. But I don't know, might stick around for a while after."

You gasp, "Oh my god, your brother's getting married?? No fucking way, congrats to him."

"Thanks, I'll pass it along," he smiled.

"I bet your mom's excited."

"Yeah, and fortunately for me, it's got her too preoccupied to be any way worried about my dating life," he says. "She still asks me about you, you know. Says she misses you."

"Aw, I miss her too," you pout.

Okay, so maybe you downplayed how close you really were.

From the moment you met, it didn't take much for you to become friends. Once you had realized you went to the same school and were even in some of the same classes, you grew close. Mark introduced you to all his friends, who then became your friends and vice versa. Any time he got word of a meet happening, you were always the first person he texted, saying he was already on his way to come get you. Mark would walk with you after school to your father's garage and let you teach him a few things about fixing up and modifying cars. Your families were both fond of the relationship the two of you had; Mark's inviting you to dinner almost every week, and yours never minding having Mark over for breakfast Saturday mornings.

As you turned down your street, you were then reminded of Mark's last night here. After his going away party, he walked you home just like this for the last time before he left.

"I've missed you too, Mark. Really," you tell him once you reach your house.

You hug him, and he wraps his arms around you. Hugging him now is much different than the last time you had. You had cried into his shirt, squeezing him so tight you didn't want to let him go. And a part of you wished you didn't. But at least letting go this time doesn't hurt as much as it did the last.

"Goodnight, Mark."

"Goodnight," he says.

"I'll be seeing you," you say, making your way up to the door.

"You'll be seeing me," he reassures, waiting for you to enter your house before walking back to Johnny's.

[5:43 PM] SATURDAY

"Can I get a time check?" you ask.

"Almost quarter to 6," Summer answers.

You started cursing under your breath, rushing to apply your mascara.

"Wow, I've never seen you like this?" Nyla says.

"Like what?" you ask, never taking your eyes away from the mirror.

"Nervous to go on a date with a boy," she says teasingly.

"First, I'm not nervous," you point the mascara wand at her, "Second, he's not just some boy," you turn back to your reflection.

You heard your phone vibrate with a notification and looked at the text from Mark.

[5:49 PM] mark:  omw to come get you 

Fuck. And you weren't even dressed yet.

"Shit—okay, maybe I am a little nervous," you left your vanity and threw off your robe to slip into your dress.

"You really like him, don't you?" Nyla asks.

"You don't know the half of it," Summer interjects.

"What is that supposed to mean?" you ask, struggling to zip your dress.

"Bitch, are you for real right now?" Summer deadpans, helping you with the dress, "You were so unbelievably head over heels for him in high school."

"I was not," you defended.

"You and Mark seem to be the only ones who didn't know that," she zips you up.

You couldn't think of anything to say to that, but thankfully you didn't have to anymore once your phone started ringing.

"Hello?"

"I'm outside," Mark's voice filters through the speaker.

"Fuck," you mutter, "Okay, sorry, I'm almost ready," you tell him.

"No worries, I'll still be here."

You hung up and ran around your room, looking through your closet and frantically throwing things out of the way to find your shoes. 

"I literally just saw them. Where the fuck are they?" you say to yourself.

"You mean these?" Nyla pulls the heels from under your bed.

"Thank you," you grab the shoes and slip them on.

"Damn, you look real good," Summer compliments as you finish putting on your jewelry.

"Do I really?" you ask, making sure your hair is sitting just how you want it.

"Hell yeah," Nyla agreed.

"Okay," you take a deep breath, smoothing out the silk draped over your body before leaving your room.

"Have fun!" Nyla yelled after you.

You step out of your house to find Mark leaning against a black Porsche you recognize as one of Jaehyun's instead of his signature red Mitsubishi Evolution. You would be disappointed if he didn't look so good standing next to the car.

Mark pushed himself away from the car when he saw you coming down the steps, completely in awe. Meanwhile, you were just focused on not tripping and stumbling down onto your face.

"Hi," you walk up to him. 

"Hi," he seemed speechless, "You look…shit. I mean, not like that—You just look beautiful."

"Thank you, Mark," you grin, "You're looking pretty fine yourself."

"You know, I try," he smooths out his jacket, "Shall we?" he opens the passenger door for you.

You smile as you step toward the car, Mark taking your hand, helping you in before closing the door and rushing over to the driver's side.

Once you've clicked yourself in with the seatbelt, you look up to see Mark staring at you. "What?"

"Nothing," he clears his throat, pulling off.

You tried not to get too lost in looking at Mark, staring out the window instead, trying to figure out where he was taking you. But then you feel his hand brush against yours when he reaches for the gear lever. You couldn't help it, letting your eyes wander over to him. Curtains of blonde hair hung slightly over his eyes as they were focused on the road. Your eyes drift down to the material perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders, taking note of the color he chose to wear, a deep shade of blue, one of your favorite colors.

"We're here," Marks says, and you snap out of it, looking around to see where he's brought you. Mark exits the car first and comes to open your door for you.

"Mark, you didn't."

"I did," Mark smiled, "Put this on," he handed you a lanyard reading VIP.

"Where the fuck did you get these?" you ask.

He ignores your question and holds his hand out for you instead, "Come on."

You slide your hand into his and follow him toward the entrance.

As Mark leads you to your seats, you realize you're not in the packed sections with the rest of the screaming fans. But instead where most executives, family members of racers, and people with enough money to buy their way into this section were. Your eyes were as wide as continental tires as you sat down. 

"Mark…" now it was your turn to be speechless.

"Does this meet your expectations?" he asks as you look around in awe.

"No," you say, "Definitely surpassed them."

The crowd erupted into cheers as the drivers walked out to their cars.

"Oh my god," you gasp, "It's him."

Kim Jongin, or as he's famously known, Kai, walks out. He brightly smiles at the fans screaming his name and waves into the audience. You're too starstruck to move. And even think your heart has stopped beating when Kai looks in your direction.

"Mark! You made it," Kai walks over to you and Mark.

"Told you I would, man," Mark greets Kai, "I also said I would introduce you to one of the best street racers I know."

Kai looks at you, his smile never faltering as he extends his hand to shake yours.

"Holy shit," is all you can say as you shake his hand, "I'm like a huge fan," you tell Kai.

"So I've been told. I've also heard you put up some serious game out on the track," Kai says before one of his crew members calls him to his car. "I gotta run, but how about you guys stick around after the race and come down to the pit."

You're certain your jaw's already on the floor, in complete disbelief that this is happening right now.

"Yeah, for sure," Mark says.

Kai waves at you one last time before running off to the track, putting on his helmet, and jumping into his car. Once you were out of your trance, you hit Mark's arm.

"Ow!" Mark rubbed his bicep.

"Since when the fuck do you know Kai?" you ask.

"Since Kevin was just getting into the NIRA circuit. I went to one of the digs with him and that was where I met Kai."

You've been following Kai's career practically since it started back when you were a high school freshman. You probably even watched the exact meet Mark was talking about. 

"And you've just been sitting on this piece of information, waiting for what to tell me?"

"For this." Mark answers.

"I can't believe you," you mutter, turning away from him. 

[8:32 PM] 

As Kai tended to the post-race press, you and Mark waited for the first-place winner in the pit. You were busy drooling over what was under the hood of Kai's car while Mark conversed with Shohei, a pit crew member.

"So what do you think?" Kai reappears, asking you.

"I think if I was out there on the track, I'd have a reason to be scared," you say, "An FR9 engine, a nos wet fogger system, and forged pistons," you only list off the components you can see from just taking one look, impressing the racer.

"You really do know your shit," Kai smiles, "I like her," he says to Mark.

"Yeah, me too," Mark smiled at you.

"Wanna take her for a lap?" Kai asks you.

"Me?" you point to yourself, "In this?" then to the car.

"Why not?" Kai shrugs, handing you a helmet.

"She isn't exactly dressed for-" another crew member, Eunseok, started.

But you kick off your heels and grab the helmet, making sure your dress doesn't hike up your legs too high as you slide through the window to get into the race car.

"Man, she's got this," Mark reassures Eunseok as Kai gets in the car with you.

"You good in there?" you hear Mark's voice from inside the helmet.

"You know I'm more than good," you reply.

"And don't I know that for damn sure," you hear the smirk in his voice, "But I've talked you up to pretty much everyone here, so don't embarrass me," he says light-heartedly.

Your barefoot steps on the gas and a smile splits your face as you burn out the tires before accelerating. The wind whipped against your skin as you picked up speed. You felt like you were flying as Kai hysterically egged you on from the passenger seat.

Mark could hear your laughter through the com piece in your helmet, telling you're having the time of your life with the way you round the track. The car roared around the corners, and you felt the G-forces pushing you back into the seat. At the end of the lap, you pulled the car back into the pit, taking the helmet off to catch your breath.

"Now that's what I call driving!" Kai exclaimed as he got out of the car from the passenger side window.

You pulled yourself out of the seat and exited through the window. Mark was right there to help you even though he knew you didn't really need his assistance. You feel Mark's arm around your waist, the other the under your thighs, helping you out of the vehicle and letting you hold onto him to put your shoes back on.

"Between that and everything else I've been told, you better hold onto her, Mark."

"I don't think there's any other choice. She's stuck with me," Mark grabs your hand, "We should probably start leaving now before we're late." Mark says to you, looking at his watch.

"It was good seeing you again, and it truly was an honor to meet you," Kai bowed as he took your hand and kissed your knuckles.

"The honor was all mine. And you know, if you ever need a tune-up, or tires changed or even a buff, my garage always has its door opened for you," you smile.

"I'll keep that in mind," Kai nods with a smile.

"What are we even getting paid for, then?" Seunghan raised his arms.

Once back in the car, Mark weaved through the traffic of spectators leaving the stadium to get on the highway. You didn't notice Mark still holding your hand, only driving with one hand so his fingers could stay intertwined with yours until you reached the restaurant.

[9:41 PM]

"It was just so crazy. To feel that much power in the grips of my hands." you continued. You couldn't help but talk through the entirety of dinner, recounting the events of the night; Mark not minding one bit.

Mark slides his hand closer to yours across the table, taking your hand in his.

You trail off, suddenly losing focus while looking at Mark. Even in the dim candlelight of the restaurant, you can see how Mark's eyes hold the stars as he looks at you.

"You don't have to stop," Mark says, "I like listening to you," he rubs his thumb over the back of your hand.

"And I just like looking at you," you say, "Still think I'm going to wake up from this dream at any moment."

"You dream about me often?" Mark asks teasingly, leaning on the table.

"Oh, Markie," you lean closer too, "You really don't know the half of it, huh?"

"Why don't you tell me then?" Mark says, his eyes falling down to your lips.

"I'd rather show you," you say before kissing him.

You were never one to really be for public displays of affection, but with Mark, here and now, it just felt right.

"I've wanted to do that ever since sophomore year," you tell him once you pull away.

"Deadass?" Mark asks, raising his brows.

You laugh at his stunned expression, "Deadass, Mark."

"So Renjun was right," he mumbles to himself.

"About what?"

"You having a crush on me in high school."

"Seems like you were the only one who didn't know," you shrug.

"Well, don't act like you didn't know I had one on you too," Mark says, and your brows raise, "Wait, really? You didn't know?" he asks.

"Of course, I didn't Mark. How was I supposed to?"

"I don't know. But I mean, it was pretty obvious," Mark says, and you scoff.

You could pretty much say the same to him. 

"God, I'm such an idiot," Mark shakes his head, and you laugh, squeezing his hand. 

"My idiot," you kiss him again.

[11:56 PM]

With the night coming to an end, you feel a slight pang of sorrow as Mark nears your house.

Mark's hand holding yours, squeezes lightly, bringing you out of your thoughts once he's parked on your street. He kissed the back of your hand before exiting the car, opening your door, and helping you out. 

You slide his jacket off your shoulders and hand it back to Mark for him to toss into the backseat.

"So," Mark starts.

"So," you take a step closer to him.

"You can truthfully tell me if it really was the worst date of your life," he said with a smile.

You roll your eyes, "Maybe it wasn't."

"Damn, it does feel good being right."

"The night isn't over. There's still time for my answer to change."

"How much time?"

You look at your phone, "Two minutes and 30 seconds."

Mark was the one to initiate the kiss this time. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you flush against his body. You allow Mark's tongue to slip into your mouth, and he hums at the taste of your lipgloss mixed with the wine you drank. Mark pulls away so you can both catch your breath, and you rest your forehead against his.

"Well?"

"Well, this has officially been the best date I've been on," you smile.

He lifts your chin, getting you to look at him, and kisses you one last time.

"Goodnight," he says.

"Goodnight, Mark," you begin to walk up your front steps.

"Wait," Mark stops you, "This isn't gonna be a one time thing is it?"

"Do you want it to be?" you ask.

"No."

"Okay. You'll be seeing me, Mark."

"I'm counting on it."

Walking up to your door, you see the movement of the curtains in the window and shake your head as you put in your key. As expected, the moment you enter your house, you're met with Nyla and Summer waiting for you.

"Date must've gone well," Summer says.

"What makes you say so?" you ask.

"That was pretty intense between you two out on the steps, and you're still grinning like an idiot," Nyla tells you.

"I am not," you deny with said grin still plastered on your face.

[1:34 PM] MONDAY

Mark steps onto the front porch, joining the rest who were outside. He finds you among them in Johnny's driveway, working on Jungwoo's car.

"Whatcha doing?" Mark asks, approaching you.

"Jungwoo says it doesn't sound right so I'm trying to adjust the cylinders and change the air pressure intake," you say.

You might as well have been wearing an expensive white dress and standing at an altar with the way Mark's looking at you. Mark watches as you carefully maneuver your way around the engine, sure not to interfere with anything valuable.

"Try that," you tell Jungwoo, who was sitting behind the wheel.

Jungwoo started his car and revved up the engine a few times, the loud roar sounding like music to your ears. You smile, satisfied, and close the hood of the car.

"You are an angel, you know that," Jungwoo says, appreciatively kissing your cheek before wandering off.

"Yeah, I know," you smile, turning to Mark, "Hi."

"Hi." you notice Mark lick his lips as he eyes you.

"What?"

"Nothing. That was just kinda hot," Mark tells you.

"Yeah? All this sweat and grease really doing it for you?" you joke, wiping your hands with a rag.

"You're definitely doing it for me," Mark says, pulling you toward him by your waist.

Mark kisses you, and you practically melt against his lips. You have to fight the urge to run your fingers through his hair, waiting until you properly wash your hands. You circle your arms around his neck instead, but things don't get too heated as your phone starts ringing.

"You mind?" you ask Mark. He hands you your phone, and you step away to take the call. 

"Everything okay?" Mark asks as you return to him.

"Yeah," you tell him before turning to everyone in the front yard, "So, how many of you love me enough to come swing by the garage with me?" you sweetly smile at your friends.

You aren't given a direct answer, but they all move from their spots and start getting into their cars, Mark following you to yours and riding with you.

. . .

You knew signing for the delivery wouldn't have taken long, but no one seemed to be in a rush to leave as they all busied themselves around the autobody shop. 

"Damn I really have missed this place," Mark says, looking around with a soft smile. 

"You know you've been equally missed," you tell him.

"Say it ain't so. Mark Lee, is that you?" you hear your dad's voice behind you.

"Yes, sir," Mark extends his arm to shake your dad's hand.

You try to continue focusing on the paperwork in front of you as the two exchange small talk before your dad mentions having Mark over for dinner.

"Oh, I couldn't impose-" Mark started.

"It wasn't imposing before, and it still isn't now," your dad says, "Your mom would love to have him over for dinner," he says to you.

"She would," you agree.

"Great, come over next Wednesday," he tells Mark before Soojin pulls your dad away to deal with a customer.

"Come with me," you round the desk and take Mark's hand. 

Mark follows your lead through the shop as you take him to where some of your friends congregated around Shotaro's station. 

"Hey, Taro. You busy?" you ask, getting his attention.

"Not really," Shotaro says. 

"Mark, this is Shotaro. Shotaro, this is Mark." you introduce them.

The Sagittarius' eyes widen as he extends his hand to Mark, "Holy shit, I've seen you race. You're like a god."

"Wow, thank-" Mark begins.

"Alright, I wouldn't say all that," you say.

"Have you seen him drive?" Shotaro asks.

"Of course, he's the only person that can keep up with me. But he usually never beats me over that line," you say with half a smirk.

Shotaro's brows furrow, "Wait, you race?"

Having only been working here a few months, you don't blame Shotaro for not knowing.

"I don't as much as I used to," you say.

"This isn't the first time I've heard this. Why is that?" Mark asks.

You shrug. "I don't know. I guess between school and helping manage this place I kinda lost my enthusiasm about it," you look down at the spare tire on the ground, softly kicking it, suddenly feeling everyone's eyes on you, "And it kinda just wasn't the same without you."

Mark looks as if he's endeared by what you've said. But you clear your throat and quickly change the subject.

"But anyway, how did the dry system hold up?" You ask Shotaro.

"Pretty good. Better than my last one," Shotaro tells you, lifting the hood of his car.

"Holy shit, where did you find these parts?" Mark asks as a few of you gather around the automobile. 

"Only knew one place to find them. So I had them imported from Yokohama," Shotaro says.

"Shotaro, you're definitely riding with us to race wars," Hendery says. 

"You guys are going too?" Shotaro asks.

"Yeah. Actually, speaking of, how many of us are going to race wars?" Jaehyun asks.

You and Mark used to talk about going to race wars all the time but never got the chance to when you were in high school because your parents would never let you. And by the time you were able to go, Mark wasn't there to be with you, so it just didn't have the same feeling without him.

"Pretty sure all of us here. Probably the rest of the others, too," Jeno says.

"Mark, you're coming?" Jisung asks.

"When is it?" Mark asks.

"It's supposed to be the beginning of next month, but the exact date and location haven't been posted yet. I'll let you know once I find out," Jaemin says.

"Okay," Mark nods, "As long as it doesn't interfere with my brother's wedding, I'll go."

"You could always not go?" Chenle jokes.

"Dude, he's my brother, and I'm the best man."

Everyone now turns their attention to Mark.

"What the fuck? Since when?" Ten asks.

"Since I found out my brother was engaged," Mark answers.

"So you just don't tell anyone shit around here anymore?" you joke.

Mark playfully rolls his eyes, poking his cheek with his tongue.

God, why is he so hot. 

You curl your arms around his, "Mark, you have to come. We've always wanted to go together," you pout.

"I know, I know," Mark holds your hand, "If I can, I will. I promise."

That was good enough for you for now.

"Okay."

[6:50 PM] THURSDAY

"Hello?" you answer the phone.

"You still at the garage?" Mark asks.

"Yeah, but I'm about to leave in a few minutes."

"Wanna come over to my place? Watch a movie and maybe drink this bottle of wine I have sitting in front of me."

"I'll need to go home and shower first. I'm all sweaty and greasy," you say.

"I don't really mind. Sweat, grease, and all."

"Well, I do. So I'll be over in an hour."

Mark kisses his teeth, "Fine."

[8:02 PM] 

Pulling up to Mark's house, you don't know why you expected it to be any different than how you remember it. But it was the same color and layout and even still had the dent in the garage door from when Yuta accidentally backed into it.

Mark answers the door wearing an old t-shirt, shorts, and glasses. Those goddamn glasses. 

"Hi," Mark smiles at you.

"Hi," you step into the house, allowing Mark to pull you in for a kiss. "You miss me or something?" you ask.

"Guess you can say that."

Slipping off your shoes and jacket, you follow Mark into the living room.

"Your parents here?" you ask.

"Nah, they went with my brother to meet the future in-laws," Mark answers. "You want a glass?" he points to the wine bottle sitting on the table.

"Yes, please," you sigh, collapsing onto the couch.

"Long day?"

"Yeah, but it's nothing I'm not used to." you take the wineglass he hands you.

Mark listens to you go on about your day after he asks, only briefly interrupted when he goes to answer the door for the delivery of the food you didn't even know he ordered. After eating your fill of pizza, you continue to watch the movie. You notice how much closer you are now than when you first arrived. You went from sitting right next to Mark to being seated between his legs, your back against his chest.

"Now, I gotta ask, who's your favorite?"

"Spider-man? Garfield for sure. I love the other two but The Amazing Spider-Man has a special place in my heart," you hold your hand over your chest.

"You were supposed to say me," Mark grumbles, rolling his eyes.

You laugh, turning to him, "Mark, you only dressed up once senior year, and that's cause you lost a bet."

"But you can't say I don't make a good Peter Parker," he says.

"Only if I can be your MJ," you joke.

Mark closes the space between you, softly pressing his lips to yours. Having seen No Way Home enough times opening weekend, you didn't mind Mark distracting you from the rest of the movie. You reposition yourself to straddle him and bring your lips back to his. The hands Mark has on your hips move down to cup your ass. Then you start laughing.

"Sorry, did I overstep?" Mark asks, moving his hands away.

"No, you didn't. It's just..nothing, sorry," you apologize. 

You start kissing him, cupping his face before you feel his two hands on your ass again, unable to stop the giggles bubbling in your throat.

"What?" Mark can't help but laugh now. 

"I'm sorry. I just can't stop thinking about your hands on my ass."

"What's so funny about that?" he asks.

"Nothing. It's just, I can't believe my best friend, Mark Lee, is kissing me with his hands on my ass," you cover your eyes, trying to explain. You shake your head, trying not to overthink this too much. "I swear I'm not laughing at you. I'm just nervous, I guess."

"What for?"

"Because it's you," you say, peaking at him through your fingers.

"I make you that nervous, baby?" Mark pulls your hands away from your face with a crooked smile. 

Is he trying to make you spontaneously combust?? 

"Maybe," you answer.

"Think I can do something to change that," he says, "Come here," he juts his chin toward you, signaling you to kiss him.

You let all thoughts fade away as you leaned into Mark. You grab the sides of his face, pressing your lips to him.

Mark keeps his hands off you until he can practically feel the desperation in your body, letting your hands roam all over him.

Feeling Mark's hands slide up your thighs to your ass made you softly moan into his mouth as he pressed you into his groin.

"Mark…" you breathe shakily.

"You need something?"

"Yeah, you."

You could hear your heart banging against your chest like a drum as you followed Mark up the stairs to his room, your hand in his.

Entering his room, you can see it hasn't changed much either. The same posters are still on the walls, his guitar sitting in its designated corner by his bed, and the small piles of clothes scattered over the floor. You didn't have the chance to get a good look at much else as Mark's lips were back on yours once he closed the door.

The backs of your legs hit the edge of his bed before you fall down onto it. Mark looks down at you lying on his bed, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips, taking his glasses off, and tossing them onto the bed. Mark grabs one of your legs, making space between them for himself, bringing his lips back to yours. Once he starts kissing your neck, you know you're already done for. 

"Mark, please," you arch into his touch.

"What, baby?"

"Touch me."

"I am touching you," he smirks, nipping at your jaw.

"God, since when were you such a fucking tease," you say, making him laugh.

"You mean here?" he asks, cupping your sex.

"Mhm," you tug your teeth between your teeth, nodding.

Mark looks into your eyes as he undoes the string of your sweatpants, making sure this is okay. When you don't tell him to stop, Mark slips his hand into your pants, pressing his fingers to the damp cotton, still acting as a barrier, keeping you from what you want.

"You this wet for me, princess?"

You shutter at his use of the pet name, "Yes."

"Mmm," he hums, watching your body react to the smallest of his touches. Mark then pulls your underwear to the side and teases your silt with his middle finger. Your jaw drops, silently moaning when you feel one of his fingers breach your walls. 

"Damn, baby, you're soaking for me," Mark smirks against your navel, moving your shirt out of his way as he kisses his way up your stomach.

"Mark, don't say things like that," you whine.

"Why?"

"Cause it's turning me on even more," you roll your hips into his hand.

"That doesn't sound like a reason to stop to me," he stopped kissing your skin once he reached your sternum, "Do you want me to stop?"

"No."

"Good. I'm only getting started," Mark pulls his hand away.

Before you could even protest, Mark's tugging your sweats down your legs, your panties along with them, getting you to lift your hips so he could throw them to the floor. You watch Mark lower himself to his knees on the floor before the bed, directing each of your legs over his shoulders. He softly kisses your inner thighs, nipping your sensitive skin between his teeth.

Mark pulls you closer to his face, looking up at you with eyes blown wide with lust. You try to keep your composure when Mark's tongue licks a fat stripe up your slit. Mark moans at the taste of you, and holds your legs apart as he buries his head between your thighs. Your small whimpers gradually grow into cries of Mark's name as he brings his fingers back to your core, slowly sinking two digits into your pussy.

"Fuck, that feels so good," you comb your fingers through his hair as he catches your clit between his lips.

Your back arches into the air, and you tug harshly on his roots, making him groan into your pussy. Mark's middle and ring finger curl against your velvety walls, moving in a come hither motion once he finds your sweet spot. Between the movements of his head and his fingers pumping in and out of you, you can feel the coil in your stomach tighten.

"Mark.." you sharply moan, "P-Please, don't stop," you beg.

Mark could feel his shorts growing uncomfortably tight the more he heard you moan and felt your pussy flutter around his fingers.

"You wanna cum for me, pretty girl?"

"Yes, Mark, please."

If your eyes didn't flutter shut, you would've caught the smirk on his face before he attacked your clit with his tongue.

At this point, you're no longer able to form full sentences. Mark's mouth makes you lose your senses and every coherent thought you have.

Mark's fingers dig into the plush of your thighs, keeping you from squirming too much as he eats you out like a man feasting after days of starving. 

"Oh my god!" your eyes roll back, "M'gonna cum," you warn through a whimper.

Mark never let up. The pace of his fingers picking up and his tongue flicking against your sensitive bundle of nerves had your toes curling. Your legs closed around his head once your orgasm hit you. Your cries and trembling legs went unnoticed by Mark as he was too enamored with the feeling and taste of you in his mouth.

"Mark, Mark, Mark," you whine, softly pushing his head away.

You open your eyes to find Mark with his fingers in his mouth, licking your slick off them. Even through your fatigue, seeing him with messy hair from you pulling on it and his face glistening with your juices reignited your insatiable desire for him.

"You okay?"

"Okay? Am I okay?" you raise a brow, "Mark, I can't remember the last time someone made me cum like that from just going down on me," you throw your arm over your eyes, still coming down from your high.

"I'm glad to be of service, then," he moves your arm away, kissing you.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, moaning around his tongue when it clashes with your own, tasting yourself on his lips.

You flip Mark onto the bed without breaking the kiss, and he rests his hands on your thighs, roughly kneading your flesh. You hum, feeling his hard clothed cock resting between your folds, Mark grabbing your ass to get you to roll your hips into his, letting a sound that closely resembles a whine climb up his throat.

Mark chases after your lips when you pull away, opening his eyes to see you admiring him.

"You're so pretty, Mark," you say, softly brushing his hair out of his eyes, and you swear you heard a whimper slip from his swollen lips.

Mark blushes, turning away from you so you don't notice. But you do. You grab his jaw, making him look at you, and pull him close enough, your lips to ghost over his.

"My pretty boy," you kiss his lips.

His cock stirs beneath you as you kiss your way down his neck. You tug on the collar of his shirt, getting Mark to pull it over his head, throwing it to the floor next to your clothes. You run your hand down his toned chest, a light trail of hair on his lower stomach disappearing into his shorts.

"Can I?" you ask, hooking your finger in the waistband of his shorts.

"Yeah," Mark nods.

Once his pants are off, you're both left in only one piece of clothing; his boxers and your shirt.

You kneel between his legs while Mark sits back on his hands, just watching you. Resting your hand on his leg, you softly squeeze his thigh before slowly sliding over to the bulge in his underwear. Palming the outline of his heavy cock has Mark tilting his head back, but not too much so he can still watch you as you waste no more time and release his dick from its confinements.

Your eyes widen, and the corners of your lips twitch, seeing his cock spring free, lightly slapping against his lower stomach. Precum dribbles from his slit and your mouth practically waters. You wrap your fingers around his length, smearing the beads of precum with your thumb. His cock twitches in your grasp, a raspy groan falling from his lips and shooting straight to your core.

"Mark, please tell me you have a condom somewhere in this house," you look at him through your lashes.

"Second drawer," he nods to his nightstand.

"Were you stocking up for this?" you ask, finding the industrial-sized box.

"No," Mark laughs, "Donghyuck 'gifted' that to me after our first date."

"Now, why would he do that?" you ask, straddling his thigh.

You already know your friend can have a perverted way of thinking, but you wanted to hear Mark's reasoning.

"Cause I couldn't stop talking about you in that fucking dress," he grips your waist, "Let's just say it was a lot harder to keep my gentlemanly manners than I thought it would be that night."

"As much as I appreciated the consideration," you say, "I wore that dress hoping you would've taken it off me," you lean into his ear.

"Fuck me," Mark groans under his breath and digs his fingers into your hips.

You grin, kissing him. Since you're distracted, Mark snatches the condom from your hand and pushes you onto your back. He sits back on his haunches, brushing his hair out of his eyes, and tears the package with his teeth before rolling the latex on and pumping his cock in his hands a few times.

Laying there with your hair splayed out on the pillows, your bottom lip between your teeth, and your thighs desperately itching to rub together at the sight of the man before you, Mark slowly begins losing his grip on any sort of restraint he has left. Mark wraps his arms under your thighs, pulling your hips closer to his. You can feel yourself growing wetter by the second as Mark keeps his eyes locked with yours, rubbing the tip of his cock between your folds. 

"Mark, please," your voice was barely above a whisper, yet Mark still heard the traces of desperation. 

The blunt head of his cock presses against your slit before being enveloped by your slick pussy. He takes his time easing into you as your walls open up for him.

"Oh, god—Mark," you choke out, feeling the way you have to adjust to his size.

"I know, I know, baby," Mark coos, "It's okay. Just relax for me," he soothed his hand up and down your leg.

You nod, and Mark starts kissing your neck. Your eyes flutter shut, your head tipping back to give him more access to mark up the side of your throat. As Mark sinks his teeth into your skin and can feel how incredibly wet you become, your pussy practically sucking him the rest of the way in.

"How're you doing, princess?" Mark kisses his way back up your neck. 

"Fuck, Mark, you feel so big," you roll your head back onto his pillow. Mark smiles, peppering your face with kisses while whispering sweet praises. 

"Let's just take it slow then, okay," he says, slowly drawing his hips back.

The feeling of his cock dragging against your walls as he slowly left your heat, only to fill you up again, had your eyes rolling back. 

"I feel so…you make me feel so—Full," you stumble over your words, moaning. 

The chuckle that leaves his lips leads a new wave of arousal to flood through your body and clench around him.

"And you're doing so good for me," he kisses your jaw. Mark continues slowly moving his hips, using deep sensual strokes to fuck you. Now fully submerged in pleasure, you beg Mark for more.

Mark grabs your leg hooked around his hip and begins picking up his rhythm. Bringing his eyes down to where your bodies were connected, he watches his dick disappear between your folds. Mark's shallow pants slowly transition into broken whimpers. You're just barely holding on, and Mark continues coaxing you closer to the edge.

"You're making me feel so good, Mark," you tell him.

Mark tries to conceal his noises, burying his head in your neck, but you disapprove. 

"Come on, Markie," you direct his face to look at you, "I wanna hear you, pretty boy," you grin, running your thumb along his bottom lip.

"Fuck~" he whines.

"Don't stop, baby, m'so close," you say.

"M-Me too—fuck, you feel so good," his voice fluctuates.

"S'all for you, pretty boy," you tell him, and you almost cum from his whimpers alone.

"God, stop calling me that," Mark pants, screwing his eyes shut.

"Why?" you smirk, bringing your fingers beneath his chin to make him look at you.

Damp strands of blonde hair hung in his face as he opened his lust-filled eyes, "I won't be able to last any longer," he answers.

"You gonna cum for me, Mark?" you roll your hips into his, making him deeply groan.

Mark holds your jaw with one hand, keeping intimate eye contact as he repeatedly thrusts into you. He runs his thumb along your bottom lip before pushing his finger into your mouth, and you eagerly accept.

"Not until you cum for me first," he says, sliding his thumb out of your mouth and bringing it to your clit.

"Oh—fuck, Mark, please," you cry.

Mark lowers himself to kiss you, muffling both of your sweet noises.

You frantically search for something to grab onto, finding Mark's shoulders first as you cum. Your pussy clamps around his cock, sending Mark into his own orgasm. Soft, breathy moans fill your ears as Mark's hips stutter, and he fills the condom with his cum.

"Holy shit," he drops his head to your shoulder.

You softly run your fingers through the strands of his sweaty hair as he kisses your damp skin. Pressing his lips to the side of your neck, Mark finds your lips meeting in a lazy kiss.

"Wait here," he tells you, the huskiness of his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

You whimper as he slips his cock out of the pulsating warmth of your pussy, leaving you clenching around nothing.

After tossing the condom into the trash and slipping his boxers back on, you watch Mark shuffle out of the room. He returns with a wet cloth, pulling your legs apart and wiping away the stickiness clinging to your folds.

"Are you okay?" Mark asks. 

"Yeah."

"You're very quiet," he lays down next to you. 

"I'm thinking," you say, turning in his direction. 

"About?"

"You," you answer, "There's no going back after this, Mark."

"Are you okay with that?"

"Am I?" you smile, "I'm not saying that cause I regret this, Mark. I'm saying this as a warning cause it'll be harder for you to get rid of me now," you wrap your arms around him and kiss his cheek. 

Mark laughs, resting his hands on your lower back. "I can't image I would ever want to anyway," he kisses you.

[9:43 PM] SATURDAY 

"No one even knew Yuta was back in town until today, how did so many people find out?" Summer says as your car nears the entrance to the parking garage.

It had taken you nearly ten minutes to move up in the line of cars that had formed. You're just glad you got here when you did, considering that the line was now streaming down the street.

Since Yuta had sent out the location at practically the last minute, you weren't expecting the dig to have this big of a turnout. You don't even know how Yuta set it up, but since the renovations to the parking garage weren't nearly finished yet, it was closed off from the rest of the public. Which meant for you, it was the perfect place for races to be conducted without having to worry about any civilians.

You finally reach the barrier gate where Yunho and Changbin are standing post.

"Hey, Sunny," Changbin says to Summer.

"Hi, Binnie," she sweetly smiles as she hands him the money for the entry fee, "I'll see you in there?" she asks.

"Yeah," Changbin smiles, "You're good to go, y/n." he nods to you.

"Okay, what the fuck was that?" Nyla asks Summer as you start following the cars down to the underground level.

"What?" Summer asks.

"You and Binnie?" You raise your brows, "When did that start?"

"It's nothing. We're just friends."

You and Nyla share a glance in your rearview mirror. "Sure, whatever you say," Nyla drops it.

Just as you reach the bottom level, you see Haechan driving in the opposite direction, and you roll down your window to talk to him. 

"Where are you guys going, we just got here?" you ask Haechan.

"Damien called Jaemin out," Hyuck tells you, "Come on," he waves at you to follow him.  

You tail Haechan's car up to the third level and easily find a few more of your friends, or rather their cars, knowing they're somewhere close by. Parking between Jungwoo and Xiaojun's cars, you gravitate toward the cluster of your friends, spotting a mop of silky jet-black hair among them.  

"Yuta!" you walk up with open arms to be embraced in a hug.

"I know I was only gone for two weeks but seems like I've missed a lot anyway," Yuta says, "So, where is lover boy Mark?"

"He's on his way," you say. 

"I can't believe it took all these years for you two to finally get together," he teased.

"I'm starting to get tired of hearing this," you roll your eyes playfully. 

"Well, it's true. You two were so ridiculously down bad for one another," Yuta teases, and you lightly hit his arm.

More people begin filling in as they anticipate the race about to go down. Jaemin's car sits at the starting point, along with Damien's. Now the only thing you're left waiting for is Johnny, Yangyang, Hendery, and Jaehyun to set up their positions around the so-called track.

"Fuck this," your impatience gets the best of you, and you snatch the walkie-talkie from Chenle's back pocket, "Are we ready?" you ask.

"Track's all clear, we're good to go," Johnny responds to you. 

Once you have confirmation from all five groups, you take the lead and stand in front of the cars. 

"You guys already know the rules. It's five levels from here to the top. Whoever makes it there first, wins," you clarify, "Ready?" you ask Jaemin and Damien. 

They both nod and you motion for them to inch their cars up just a bit so their bumpers line up exactly. You raise your hands, and the crowd begins cheering as both cars rev up. You drop your arms, and you're engulfed in the smoke their burnouts left behind as the cars whipped past you. As everyone else runs for the elevator and stairs to get to the rooftop before Jaemin and Damien do, there's only one person not moving along with the herds of people, walking toward you instead.

"You're probably the hottest race marshal I've ever seen," Mark says as you turn on your heels, almost crashing right into him.

"Mark," your face splits into a smile, cupping his face and kissing his lips.

"Miss me, baby?" he asks with a chuckle.

"Yeah, pretty boy," you tease.

Mark kisses you again, firmly keeping one hand on your lower back.

"Hey! Y'all can suck faces later, but get your asses in here now!" Summer yells from the elevator. 

Remembering the race, you grab Mark's hand, run into the elevator, and head for the top floor. 

Since Yangyang and Jaehyun were exclusively live-streaming the entire race for people to watch from the different levels they were on, everyone's eyes were glued to their phones, waiting for Jaemin and Damien to reach the top. You all watch from Jisung's phone as Jaemin takes the lead once he passes Ten on the sixth floor, drifting the turn up to the seventh, and you smile proudly since you had been the one who taught him how to in the first place.

You can hear the tires screeching and the deep resonance of the engines making their way up each floor. Hitting one last turn and perfectly timing his gear shift, Jaemin drifts his car up the ramp. The cheers of the crowd were deafening as everyone celebrated Jaemin's win, even himself, with a few victory donuts.

You would've been right there alongside everyone else, congratulating Jaemin on his win if Mark hadn't used this chance while everyone was distracted and not paying attention to either of you.

Your back meets a concrete wall with a soft thud while Mark's lips attack yours.

"What's with you, Markie?" You ask.

A low groan rumbles in his chest, "You're just so…fucking beautiful."

"Thank you, baby," you kiss his nose.

"Hey, Mark!" someone calls him, "How about you lay off your girl for a bit and let us see if you're still the big shot you thought you were in high school," Sean says.

You turn to Sean with your brows raised. The only thing holding you back from wiping that snarky grin off his face is Mark's arm still wrapped around you.

Mark's entire demeanor was calm as he nodded at Sean, "Alright. Me and you, right now," Mark says.

You follow Mark back down to the ground floor to get his car, riding with him. He holds your hand the entire drive back up to the third level, where spectators had already lined the pathway, expecting the next race.

"Do I really need to wish you luck?" you ask Mark as you look over at Sean overconfidently revving up his engine.

"I know I can take him. But I'd still appreciate it from you."

"Baby, you got this," you kiss his lips.

Mark watches as you sit back and lift your hips, reaching under your skirt to pull your panties down your legs. You hand the bunched-up lace to Mark, leaning over to his ear. "But just hold onto these just in case. Your good luck charm," you smirk.

Mark chuckles as he shoves your underwear into his pocket, looking over at you with a smile playing on his lips. "You just wait until I can get you alone," Mark pulls you in for one last kiss before you get out of his car.

You join everyone else on the sidelines as Yuta riles the crowd up. Mark looks over at you and winks. Yuta raises his arms, and Sean dramatically burns out his tires while Mark comfortably sits back in his seat. With him looking so relaxed, settling into his element behind the wheel makes heat pool in your lower stomach. Subtly pressing your thighs together, you begin to regret handing over your underwear, feeling the warmth between your legs.

"Go!" Yuta yells, and both cars take off. Summer grabs your hand, leading you to the elevator to head back up to the top floor.

As you all wait for Mark and Sean's cars to near the final level, the door to the stairwell swings open, and Nyla trudges through, making her way over to you all.

"Why're you out of breath?" Jeno asks, receiving a glare from Nyla.

"Jae and I were on the fourth floor, and those steps.." she gasps, "are no joke." Once she finally catches her breath, Nyla tells you, "I left my bag in your car, I need your keys."

You reach into your skirt pocket and pluck out your keys, handing them to Nyla before she heads for the elevator. Turning your attention back to the race, you recognize the sound of Mark's engine, and you smile as his car drifts up the ramp, beating Sean. Mark's tires screech against the pavement before he takes his foot off the gas and gets out of his car. The crowd rushes Mark, celebrating his win, you along with them.

"I told you you had him," you say to Mark.

"I'll say it was your good luck charm that secured it," he smirked.

But all the celebrating is cut short when you see people running before you hear the sirens making their way up the levels of the garage, and Mark instinctively grabs your hand.

"And I think that's our cue," Renjun grabs his drink and gets into Jeno's car.

It's hard to tell which direction the sirens are coming from as the sound bounces off every surface in the open space.

"Get in," Mark says to you, Summer, and Jisung.

You trust Nyla enough with your car to not even be concerned about it and jump into the passenger seat. Mark wastes no time shifting into drive once you're all inside and starts looking for an escape route. He avoids the exit everyone else was trying to leave from as a traffic jam starts building up, and people honking their horns isn't helping to get things moving.

"Is that Chenle?" you hear Summer ask from the backseat. You then turn your head to see the blue and red lights shadowing Chenle's silhouette as he runs toward Mark's car.

"Dude, come on!" Jisung yells to Chenle, opening the door.

Chenle dives head-first into the back seat, throwing himself across Summer and Jisung's laps.

"Go, go, go!" Chenle exclaims. Mark presses his foot on the gas and begins speeding away.

Finally finding a clear exit, Mark floors it before yanking his e-break as a police car turns the corner. You hear the cops' megaphone telling Mark to stop driving and for all of you to get out of the vehicle.

"Mark," you call him warily.

"I know," he shifts gears, "Hold on," he says, reversing the car, looking through the rear windshield over his shoulder, and putting his hand behind the headrest of your seat.

Mark expertly drives his car backward, turning the wheel with one hand, and the police continue to chase after you before Mark reaches another exit. Ending up back on the city streets, you lose the police tail, and you feel a sigh of relief throughout the entire car.

"Yeah I'm with her, Mark, Chenle, and Jisung," you hear Summer say. "Ningning's with Nyla and they have your car," she tells you as she's on the phone.

"Thank god. Tell them to bring it to Johnny's."

"They're already on their way."

Mark's car drives up to Johnny's house around the same time everyone else arrives. Just like always, the party goes on as if nothing had happened. Summer, Jisung, and Chenle get out of the car, Chenle already retelling the events of what just happened to Yangyang and Haechan when they meet in the front yard.

You and Mark don't get out yet, the two of you just silently holding each other's gaze. Mark had one hand lazily thrown over the wheel, sitting back in his seat as he eyed you.

"Mark, get out of the car," you tell him.

"Why?" Mark asks.

"Between the way you just handled that and the way you're looking at me right now, I can't promise I can hold myself back any longer."

Mark's eyes drift down from your face, tugging his lip between his teeth. The corners of his lips curl up as he takes his car out of park. Mark pulls his car into Johnny's garage, and the party fades into a dull hum once the door shuts. You and Mark are now alone, only in the presence of the other dormant vehicles in the garage. 

Mark turns his car off, and you push yourself out of your seat, leaning over the console to kiss him. Mark's hand blindly fumbles with the seat adjuster to move his seat back and allow you to climb into his lap. 

"What's gotten into you?" Mark asks, smiling against your lips. 

"You," you card your fingers through the soft blonde curls, "Mark, you're just so..hot," you roll your hips into his. Mark's hands slide up your thighs, slipping under your skirt. You can already feel the wetness dripping onto Mark's jeans, the rough material deliciously dragging against your clit. You moan around Mark's tongue, and he grips your body tighter. You accidentally lean against the wheel, hitting the horn, startling yourself and Mark.

Mark laughs along with you, "Backseat?"

"Backseat," you nod before climbing into the back of his car.

Now with more room, you grab Mark and comfortably settle in his lap. You feel the bulge in his jeans against your inner thigh and roll your hips into his. Mark's head falls back against the window, and you take the opportunity to kiss his neck. Mark's eyes flutter shut as you cradle the back of his head and sink your teeth into his skin. The moan that falls from his lips causes you to get wetter.

"Mark?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Can I?" you ask, slipping your hand between your bodies and palming him through his pants.

"Yeah."

You slide out of his lap and quickly undo the button of his jeans. You waste no time trying to get his clothes off and just pull his cock out of his underwear, your mouth already salivating.

"Oh, Mark," you clench your thighs together, "You're so pretty."

His breathing becomes shallow as he says, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, baby," you kiss the tip of his cock before kitten-licking the drips of precum leaking down his shaft.

Mark sharply gasps, and the grin on your face grows bigger. You let spit dribble out of your mouth and onto his dick to assist your hand, jerking him. You wrap your lips around the sensitive tip, slowly sucking him into your mouth. Mark softly groans, placing his hand on your head. He brushes your hair out of the way so he can see your face.

"My god, look at you," he swipes a string of spit hanging from your lips when you come up for air. You playfully bite his thumb before taking his cock back into your mouth.

Hearing Mark's heavy breathing slowly turn into breathy whimpers encourages you to take more of him down your throat. You feel one of Mark's hands sliding down your back, flipping your skirt over your ass. He dips a finger into your pussy, humming approvingly when he feels how wet you are.

You are grateful his windows were tinted well past the legal limit just in case someone drunkenly stumbled into the garage.

"You get this wet from just sucking my dick, princess?" Mark smirks as he plays with your folds. "Such a dirty dirty girl," he calls you, making you moan around his cock and clench around his fingers. You lose focus and drop your head to his thigh.

"Mark," you whine as he curls his two fingers against your soft walls.

"Come on, baby," he strokes your head, "You're doing so good for me."

You slide his cock back into your mouth upon his words, swirling your tongue around the tip. Mark rests his head against the foggy window and utters soft praises between moans.

You smile, "You sound so pretty for me, Mark,"

"Feels so good," he tells you.

"Gonna cum for me, pretty boy?"

"Yes."

You ignore the burn in your arm and pump his cock faster in your hand. "Cum for me, Mark. I know you want to."

"I do, I do—fuck—I do," his voice cracks.

Your name mixed with his moans, had you dripping down your thighs. You bob your head to the same rhythm as your hand. Mark's thighs twitch, and he bucks his hips against your face. You feel the warmth filling your mouth as Mark cums. Waiting until you feel his cock soften against your tongue, you pull yourself off him and swallow his cum.

"Fuck," he sighs, "You're so good to me."

"Anything for my pretty boy," you kiss him.

Mark grabs the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. He pushes his tongue past your lips, tasting the lingering saltiness in your mouth. Mark pulls you back on top of him to straddle his thigh. You start grinding your hips against his denim-clad leg.

"As much as I like having you beneath me I think I like seeing you on top of me more," Mark says, looking up at you. "That feel good, princess?" he asks, purposely flexing his thigh.

"Yes," you whimper.

"You that desperate, you gotta fuck yourself on my thigh like this?"

"For you, yes," you tell him.

Mark cups your ass beginning to direct your movements as he holds eye contact with you. You can't take it anymore and bury your head in his neck. "What's wrong, baby?"

"I'm gonna cum," you mumble against his throat.

"Already?" he teases. Mark pulls your face out of the crook of his neck. "Let me see your pretty face when you cum for me."

"Mark," you grab onto his shoulders.

"Yeah, sweetheart? Say my name."

"Mark, please."

You throw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut and digging your manicured nails into Mark's skin.

"That's it, baby. That's my good girl," he rubs his hands up your thighs, and you continue to ride out your high.

You slump against Mark's body, and he holds you close, rubbing his hand up and down your back.

"That was so hot." Mark says.

You smile into the kiss, "The things you do to me, Mark Lee."

You hear a knock on the door, and Mark rolls down the window just a crack to see who it is.

"Yes?" you say to Johnny, standing outside the car.

"In my garage? Really?" Johnny placed his hands on his hips like a disappointed father.

"It's my car," Mark says.

"In my garage."

"Jesus, here he goes."

"We'll be out in a sec." you say to Johnny before rolling the window back up.

"I'm not finished with you yet," Mark says as he buttons up his jeans.

"Neither am I," You grab his hand as you exit the garage and head toward the house, "And I mean…Johnny does have four other spare bedrooms," you say, and Mark smirks at you, following you into the house.

[11:25 PM] WEDNESDAY 

"Are you sure you like it?" Mark asks you for what seems like the fifth time tonight.

"Mark, why would I lie to you?" you ask.

"I don't know, you just seemed to love the blonde so much," he says, running his fingers through his silky dark hair.

Knowing Mark was planning on dying his hair back before his brother's wedding and seeing how his roots started to grow, you should've expected the change sooner rather than later. But still, you were surprised when he showed up at your parent's house for dinner, and you answered the door to find the brunette instead of the blonde you were expecting.

"Yeah, but you're still pretty, babe," you comb your fingers through his hair, making him lean into your touch.

"Thank you," he sheepishly smiles, lowering his head, attempting to hide the blush from the others rather than you. "So, I have a question for you," Mark says.

"What is it?" you ask.

"How would you like to-"

"Race wars date and location just dropped," Jaemin announces, standing from his seat.

With all of you sitting around the living room, you all wait for Jaemin to tell you.

"Well, are you gonna tell us?" Jeno asks impatiently.

"Not with that attitude," Jaemin scoffs. He clears his throat as if he's making an official announcement, stating the location before saying the date, "It starts next Friday-"

"Next Friday? Like the Friday after this one?" Mark asks.

"That is…what next Friday means?" Jaemin says.

"Mark, no," you start.

"I'm sorry," Mark looks at you apologetically.

"Wait, what?" Nyla asks.

"My brother's wedding is next Friday."

"Couldn't you just come afterwards?" Johnny asks.

"Not with that long ass drive. I know I'm good, but I'm not that good."

You were wracking your brain for every possible scenario you can come up with so that Mark would be able to go with you.

"I don't know if I'm the only one thinking this but why can't you just come down Saturday?" Chenle asks.

"I mean he could, but they changed the rule with check-in to keep too many locals from taking up space. So check-in is only available Friday. He wouldn't be able to race." Yangyang says.

"What's so wrong with that?" Summer asks.

"It's his first race wars. You really think he'd want to sit on the sidelines with you all weekend?" Renjun asks.

"Now, you listen, Huang-" Summer starts.

The bickering among your friends continued as you sit quietly, still thinking.

"What if I went with you?" you ask.

"To my brother's wedding?" Mark questions.

"I'm not trying to forcefully invite myself. But if I go with you, you and I can do that drive. We'd get there pretty late but I'm pretty sure if I talk to Taeyong I can work something out."

"You wouldn't be inviting yourself since I was just about to invite you myself."

"Really? You were gonna ask me to come as your date?" you ask, endeared.

"Well I was gonna ask you to come as my girlfriend—I mean technically you'd still be my date, but my date as my girlfriend-"

You hear nothing else after girlfriend. His girlfriend. Mark's girlfriend.

"Mark, are you kidding me?" you ask, genuinely in disbelief.

"No?"

You grab Mark's shirt and kiss him. That definitely got everyone quiet.

"Woah, woah, what did we just miss?" Haechan asks.

"I'm taking your answer as a yes," Mark says to you.

"Yes, Mark. I will come to your brother's wedding as your girlfriend," you can't help the grin stretching across your face as you say it. You then move your legs out of his lap and turn to the rest of the group. "Alright, so here's what's going to happen," you start explaining your plan to everyone.

[7:21 AM] (next) FRIDAY

"Sunny, let's go!" Nyla yells from the front door.

"I'm coming," Summer replies, dragging her oversized suitcase down the steps behind her.

Following her down the stairs, you meet the rest of your friends outside. You make sure you've packed everything you'd need for the weekend in your car before you hand your keys over to Sungchan.

"Sungchan, do you understand how much I'm trusting you right now. This is my baby," you tell him.

"Yes, I know. I promise I'll be careful with her," Sungchan nods.

You watch as Shotaro helps the younger boy hook your car up to the rig connected to the back of Sungchan's vehicle.

"Kun just called me before he boarded his flight, and said the house is ready for us. And we should really get a move on if we don't wanna hit traffic," Hendery says.

"Though I do appreciate Kun letting us use the vacation house, why isn't he going?" Goeun asks.

"He's flying out to Shanghai to meet up with Winwin. He said the car scene out there is some next level shit," Yangyang says.

"So what I'm hearing is we're making a trip to China soon," Summer says.

"Can we get to this race wars first?"

"We'll see you and Mark later tonight?" Nyla asks before she gets into Jaehyun's car. You confirm with a nod. "Have fun." she tells you.

"You too. But not too much without us," you say.

"No promises," Jaehyun playfully winks at you before driving away.

[1:19 PM]

As your Uber pulls up to the venue, you feel the smile rushing to your face when you see Mark outside waiting for you. He opens your door and holds his hand out for you.

"Wow, baby, you look…damn," he licks his lips as he stands back to get a full view of you.

"Mark, knock it off," you laugh.

Mark excitedly squeezes your hand as he walks you inside, his body seemingly buzzing.

"Babe, you okay?" you ask Mark.

"Yeah, I'm just excited to introduce you to everyone."

"We basically grew up together, Mark. Haven't I been introduced to practically everyone."

"Yeah, but not as my girlfriend," he grins.

You both made your rounds for a bit, Mark proudly showing you off to everyone before he got called away when all the groomsmen were needed for pictures, leaving you to wander over to the bar.

"I see all this secret pining has finally come to an end," you hear a voice from someone at the bar beside you. Seeing the cousin of the bride wasn't surprising, but you're still happy to see him after all these years.

"It was about time, wasn't it," you say to Doyoung.

"I'll say. It was exhausting watching you two be in love and not say anything to each other," Doyoung says.

"In love? Okay, now you're over-exaggerating," you roll your eyes, sipping your drink.

"Seulgi, back me up on this," Doyoung calls his friend.

"On what?" Seugli asks sipping on her drink, turning to you two.

"This one and Mark being so obviously in love since high school."

Seugli turns to you and starts laughing, "Oh, you're serious?" he stops laughing, "Well he's right."

"Seugli, you're not supposed to take his side!" you cross your arms over your chest.

"Sorry, kid."

Once it was time for the ceremony to start, the wedding coordinator ushered everyone to their seats. Before the groom came out, Mark walked down the aisle along with the maid of honor. 

"You ready for that to be you next?" Doyoung asks Seugli as the bride walks out . 

"Am I," she smiled at her girlfriend, who stood along with the rest of the bridesmaids. 

"I'm sorry did I miss something?" you ask. 

"Oh right, I'm engaged, by the way," Seugli says nonchalantly as music for the bride starts playing. 

"What the fuck?" you try to whisper, "Oh my god, since when?"

"Since last month," she answers. 

You don't have time to celebrate the news anymore, with Doyoung shushing the two of you as the groom and bride start their vows. 

The last time you attended a wedding was before you could even drive, so you barely remember what happened, but you can count you weren't as emotional at the last one. It may also have to do with your proximity to the couple, almost feeling as if you were watching your own brother get married. You try to keep your composure as the bride continues on her vows. 

"There's nothing in my life I regret since it had all led me to you. I knew I loved you from the second we met. You've seen my at my bests and worsts. You know about all the good, the bad, the ugly, the dirty, yet you still accept and love me as I am. All the days I've spent with you, laughing, crying, smiling, yelling and there's not a single one I would take back or change-"

You can't stop the tears welling up in your eyes. You didn't really think the bride's vows would tug at your heartstrings the way they did, and all you can think about is Mark. Your eyes find his already looking at you.

As the tears fall, you give him a small smile before mouthing, "I love you," to him.

Mark tries to fight the smile coming to his face, not wanting to draw attention to himself before he mouths back, "I love you too."

You hadn't even realized the tears were streaming down your face until Doyoung handed you a tissue.

"Thank you," you whisper. 

"It's just so beautiful, isn't it?" Seugli asks, also crying and pulling out her own tissues.

[5:57 PM]

Between dancing and socializing at the reception, while waiting for the cake to be cut, you and Mark ended up leaving later than you originally planned.

By the time you were in Mark's car and on the road, the sun had started to set. Mark had one hand on the wheel while you had the other in your lap, fiddling with his fingers. You look over at him, your chest filling with warmth as you take in the way the pink and orange hues contour his features.

"You know I meant what I said before," you break the silence.

"I know," he kisses the back of your hand, "I just didn't expect you'd say it first."

"Why's that?"

"Because I know how guarded you can be with your feelings sometimes," he explains, "But still, I've been in love with you since I was 16—It's kinda crazy actually, I didn't realize it until I was already on my flight to Korea."

You ignore the tears pricking your eyes as you lean closer to Mark, peppering his face with kisses.

"I love you, Mark Lee."

[10:13 AM] SATURDAY

You wake up with the sun shining on your face. You turn over, searching for the warmth of Mark's body. Considering how tired you both were, practically collapsing onto the bed when you two finally arrive some time after two this morning, you're surprised to not find Mark still sleeping beside you, his side of the bed empty.

"Mark?" you call him without opening your eyes.

"Yeah?" you hear him reply.

"Where are you?" you ask, eyes still closed.

"I'm right here, baby," you hear his voice a lot closer as the mattress sinks under his weight.

You feel his lips on yours. Still half asleep, your reaction was delayed before you kissed him back.

"This early in the morning, Mark?" you ask with a lazy smile.

"As hard as it was to stop myself yesterday, I also have a feeling we'll be pretty busy all weekend, so I'll take every chance I get." he says.

You laugh as his nose ghost over your throat, sending goosebumps all over your skin. Mark slips his hand under the shirt of his you were wearing and cups your breast in his hand. You arch into his touch, nibbling on his bottom lip. Your head sinks into the pillows when Mark rolls the pad of his thumb over your perky nipple. Mark doesn't take his eyes away from your face as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.

Your hand finds his hair, and your fingers curl around the messy dark locks as he swirls his tongue around your areola. He gently tugs your nipple between his teeth, and you roll your hips against his thigh between your legs. 

"Mark..." you finally open your eyes to look at your boyfriend.

"Can I?" he asks, toying with the hem of your panties. 

"Please," you nod. 

Mark pulls your underwear down your legs and grips your thighs as he comfortably settles on his stomach. He guides your legs over his shoulder while leaving a trail of kisses and small bites up your thighs. Mark runs the tip of his tongue along your slit, humming when your juices land on his tastebuds. 

"Oh my god, Mark," your nails lightly scratch his scalp. 

He moans back at you in response, the vibrations from his mouth sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. Your eyes screw shut, and you bite your lips so hard you're afraid you've drawn blood. You try with everything in your body to stay quiet. But with Mark messily eating you out, languidly moving his skilled tongue against your walls, you can't even stay still, let alone be quiet. 

"Please, baby, don't stop," you tell him. 

Before you even register the knock on your door, Summer enters your room, and your entire body freezes. 

"Hey-Where's Mark?"

You glance at Mark under the covers between your thighs, out of sight, and he smirks. You try to hide your reaction as he teasingly kitten-licks your clit. You squeeze your thighs around his head and quickly rush out an answer for Summer. 

"He went to go refill his tank before we go out today," you say. 

"Oh, okay. Well, breakfast is ready in ten, then we're all leaving around 11. Cool?"

You nod. "Yeah, yeah. We'll be ready by then."

Once Summer leaves, you barely have time to be relieved with Mark picking up like he never really stopped, making you cum on his tongue. 

"Fuck, Mark," you squirm, letting your orgasm wash over you. Mark continues lapping at your folds until he's satisfied. Coming from under the covers, Mark wipes the lower half of his face with the back of his hand. 

"What the fuck was that?" you ask, breathless. 

"You told me not to stop," he grins, and you roll your eyes, "You can't even act like you hate me 'cause I know you love me," he kisses you. 

"I'm beginning to rethink that decision," you tease. 

[2:24 PM]

Having been out in the sun practically all day watching races and even taking a few rides yourself, you decided to give your car and yourself a break from the sun. You parked under one of the canopies Johnny set up and took a seat on your hood. Coming back from watching Chenle race Ningning, you spot the top of Mark's head through the crowd, beginning to make his way over to you.

The look on his face can only be compared to that of a kid in a candy store. You love watching the way his eyes light up talking about the race, rambling on and on, you not minding one bit.

"So, is this everything you hoped it'd be?" you ask Mark.

He nods, subtly parting your legs to stand between them. "And so much more," he kisses you.

"Hey!" someone yells, grabbing everyone's attention, "how about you and me," Leo calls Mark out.

"Alright, how much?" Mark asks.

"No money," Leo smiles before turning to you, "I win, I get to take you out."

"As fucking if," you slide off the hood of your car, Mark instinctively wrapping his arm around you before you can get too far, some of the others coming to your defense as well. "You already had your chance and fucked that up. What makes you think I'll willingly put myself through that again? You wanna try and make yourself feel better by racing him, it'll be for two grand take it or leave it," you say to Leo.

"So he can have a shot at winning a date through a race but I can't?" Leo asks.

"Because he didn't try to win me over like I'm just a pink slip, and he doesn't have an ego bigger than an eighteen-wheeler."

"Fine. You're on, Mark," Leo nods at your boyfriend, "But we'll see if you'll feel the same when I beat him across the line," Leo smirks at you, and you scoff.

Spectators gather on either side of the runway, cheering for either racer as their cars pull up to the starting line. You had been suspiciously eyeing Leo the entire time he sat in his car with that stupid grin on his face.

"What's wrong?" Mark asks you.

"I don't doubt that you can beat him. But I don't trust he won't try anything," You say before walking up to Taeyong while Sean talks to him. "I'm riding with Mark," you tell Taeyong.

"What? You can't," Sean crossed his arms.

"There aren't any rules against it," Taeyong says.

"And how exactly do you think that'll help your little boyfriend? It can throw off his equilibrium and slow him down," Sean tries looking down his nose at you.

"Which is why you're gonna get your ass in that passenger's seat and ride with your little bestie over there," you point to Leo's car, "I mean, it's not like you haven't already gotten your own front row experience losing to my little boyfriend," you tilt your head. Sean grumbles before he walks over to Leo's car, and you get into Mark's.

"We're really doing this?" Mark asks.

"Ride or die, remember?" you hold out your hand.

Mark smiles, finishing the quote as he takes your hand, "Ride or die."

a/n: i’m telling y’all ever since ay-yo, mark has been living in my head rent free—currently the owner of a few properties, if you will. this is the longest thing i’ve ever written and tbh it would’ve been longer if there wasn’t a text block limit so i did the best with what i had 😭 and like i said before all my knowledge about cars is based off the fast and furious movies so…thank you so much for reading!! feedback is appreciated <33 tag list <33: @chardonnayyyy @aliceinwhateverland @itzz-me-duh @nctevia @sirens-dreams @pieddpiperr @yujuvly @scarletsknight

[milliesfishes]

request for modern billy asking you out for the first time !

౨��꣑ৎmodern billy asking you out for the first time౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid

It was hotter than the depths of hell.

You fanned yourself with your hand, steps becoming sluggish as you trudged down the dirt road in the direction home. The sun had long set, and you were regretting the course of the night more the further you walked. Mind hazy, you cursed the stupid boy you'd allowed yourself an evening with.

He'd been late. Not hours late, but certainly late, and you were made to look like some sort of fool waiting for him. He hadn't even come to the door- he'd honked the horn of his truck so loud you could have heard it from the moon. Thank goodness your father was in town for the night because he wouldn't have stood for it. Some no-good boy not even bothering to come to the door for his daughter.

Begrudgingly, you'd walked out all dolled up and already questioning whether this was a good idea. The car ride into town hadn't helped matters- it was lengthened due to the remote location of the ranch. He played his awful music at far too high a volume, which you supposed was fine because it meant you could hardly hear him talk. What really irked you was that he didn't ask you a single question. Or tell you that you looked nice.

The date itself was decidedly mediocre. Just more smiling and nodding and pretending to be interested. Surprisingly, annoyance wasn't at the forefront of your emotions, but disappointment surely was. It was rare you accepted the offer of a date, and you'd been sure this boy was different from the others. But no, he'd worn a mask to get through the gates, and now it had melted away.

At least you got a free meal out of it. The restaurant was rather good, and you'd mentally written a note to come back here with a girlfriend sometime. Make some new memories here so your view of this place wasn't tainted by the insufferable man across from you.

You were walking out to the parking lot beside him planning the small talk you'd need to get out of a second meetup when suddenly you felt a hand on your bottom, grazing the border between dress hem and thigh.

That was the final straw.

Now you were walking home, balls of your feet aching from your horribly impractical shoes, sweating like you were three inches from the sun. You stopped for a moment, adjusting the strap of your purse on your shoulder and taking in a breath. The air was thicker than pudding and you felt like you were inhaling smoke.

Water. You needed water. Squinting into the distance, you wondered if the river was nearby through the line of trees. It was unclear how long you'd been walking, and your phone had died about a half hour back. Tall grass tickled your calves as you lost yourself in a daydream about swallowing an icy glass of clear liquid straight from the Arctic. It only made the bar of your heat tolerance go down.

A sudden drop hit your shoulder and you looked up. The stars were murky, and you sighed, hanging your head. "That's not what I meant by water," you murmured as two more drops fell into your hair. The sound of rain pounding the earth started up, and you huffed, folding your arms around yourself and trudging forward, squinting into the distance.

Everything about tonight was a mistake. It was a mistake to go on a date, a mistake to wear a dress with thin straps that barely went to mid thigh. Your hair was ruined now, hanging on your cheeks in wet strands, and your shoes would be soon because the dirt road was about to turn muddy from the storm. You didn't even want to think about the state of your makeup.

It was an awful mess, all of it, and you once again cursed the stupid boy who'd forced you to take your stupid dignity and drag it through what was now a downpour. At least you weren't sweating as much anymore.

Headlights illuminated your shadow, and you turned around, stepping to the side of the road and wincing at the squelch of your shoes. A truck was blurrily cruising close, sparking hope in your chest. Maybe it was your father coming home from town? The vehicle stopped a few feet away, and you rushed to the window, expecting to see a salt and pepper beard and eyes a little hazy from a drink or two.

Instead, the handsome face of your miles away neighbor greeted you as he reached over the seat to roll the window down, ever present grin like a lighthouse. "Takin' a walk?"

You laughed, instantly at ease even though there was rain dripping down your forehead. Billy had a way about him that made everything else seem small in comparison. He tilted his head. "C'mon, get in. I'll drop you home."

"You sure? I'm kinda wet," you teased, and he chuckled, stretching his hand to open the door for you from the inside, propping it. Slipping in, you quickly rolled the window back up, wet hair falling into your eyes.

Billy's eyes were sparkling as he looked at you, and he used his outstretched hand to brush your hair behind your ear. "You look pretty."

Another giggle passed your lips, and you looked down. "I'm soaked, Billy. There's no way."

"No really." He thumbed your cheek, and you looked at him, unable to help your smile. Once his eyes met yours, you shivered, unsure if it was from the look he was giving you or the rain. Billy immediately shucked off his maroon corduroy jacket, leaving him in a white t-shirt. "Here. You must be freezin'."

Burrowing into it, you sighed, watching him start to get the heater going, turning it all the way up. His brows were drawn together in concentration as he fiddled with the dial, and you couldn't help but find it wholly endearing. Turning back to you, he set a careful hand on your shoulder, thumb rubbing soothingly. "Better? You warm enough?"

"Yeah," you promised, smiling sweetly. He chucked you under the chin before taking the car out of park, veering his eyes toward the road.

"So where were you tonight that you didn't need a ride from?" he teased, and you pulled the lapels of his jacket tighter around you, giggling a little.

"I had a date," you confessed, kicking your shoes off and tucking your feet under you on the seat. Billy's truck was old, and it sure hadn't looked as good as it did now when he first got it. You couldn't help but compare it to the one of the boy who took you out tonight. That truck was ridiculously nice, and you could practically smell how much it cost. It had none of the charm of Billy's. "It didn't end well."

He frowned. "He made you walk home?"

"No, I decided to," you sighed, playing with the cuff of his jacket. It was soft and smelled like him- musky pine soap. Something that had snuck into your dreams more often than not. "The date was awful. He came late and his music was terrible and he was just...it was just bad."

"His music was terrible," Billy repeated, brow furrowing again. You found yourself wanting to reach over and smooth the crease. "No Tom Petty?"

"Uh uh."

"Springsteen?"

"Not even a little bit."

"Well goddamn." He sat back, shaking his head. "No wonder you left 'im behind."

Another laugh bubbled up and burst forward. This was always how it was with Billy- lighthearted and uplifting. He always found a way to make you smile, and it always left you with good feelings for hours on end. "Yeah, that was one reason."

Billy clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Whoever he was didn't know what he had, darlin'."

Your lips parted, and you lowered your gaze to your lap, fidgeting with the button of his jacket cuff. Something about the way he said it- the warmth, the ease, as if he'd been waiting to his whole life, sent a steady feeling through you like a river on a calm day. Heart fluttering, you sat up straighter as you caught the familiar sight of your ranch home, sitting nice and cozy below the hill.

Parking the truck, Billy didn't turn the car all the way off, only turning the key a bit so the heat was still running. It was still pouring outside, rain beating the top of the truck. It was a soothing soundtrack, and you were better able to appreciate it when you weren't shivering with miles separating you from home.

Turning to the side, Billy smiled, holding his arms out and lifting his eyebrows. You were dashing into his arms before he could say a word, cozy against his chest. He smoothed your hair, adjusting the collar of his jacket around your neck. "Hi."

"Hi." You pressed your cheek to his collarbone, breathing in comfortably.

He held you like that for a moment, letting the heaters do their job. You swore the truck's system couldn't have been this good when it was brand new. Billy's magic touch made everything better, and not just with you.

After a moment, he murmured. "You wouldn't've left a date for just bad music taste, darlin'." Billy's hand was gliding up and down your back. "What else happened?"

You hadn't planned to tell him. But this spot in his arms caused the whole truth to tumble out of you. How you'd pushed your date's hand away. Called him an asshole. The not-so-nice thing he'd said back. How you'd stormed off with nothing but your standards and your purse. It sounded humiliating out loud, and you bit your cheek when you finished, readying yourself for the backlash.

Billy was silent for a moment. Then he sighed, dropping his nose into your hair. His words were muffled. "You've always been badass, darlin'. 'M proud of you."

If your heart had been fluttering before, now it was thumping double time, spelling something in morse code you were trying desperately to read. You couldn't decipher anything except for what remained, like a slab of marble chipped away to reveal David. You'd never felt this way for any man before. And certainly not for the one you'd started the evening with.

None of them could hold a candle to the man you'd known for years, holding you close his truck to keep you warm after he'd rescued you from a storm. Flickers of memories began to spark in your mind like fireflies.

Seeing him at school for the first time. Sitting in his garage and keeping him company while he messed around under the hood of his truck. Hitching a ride into town and singing 'I'm On Fire' at the top of your lungs. Running errands for your respective ranches and stopping for gas station snacks on the way.

Had it been right in front of you the whole time?

You lifted your head, only to find he was already looking at you. Billy's eyes were like blue magnets, and you could have dove into them, exploring their depths forever. He brushed a stubborn strand of hair from your eyes and thumbed the side of your cheek. "You got all pretty for someone who didn't deserve you."

"I wish it had been for you." The sentence fled your mouth before you could restrain it, and you found yourself a little dazed by the way he was looking at you. An entire universe of stars in his eyes.

Billy cupped your cheek, and you leaned into his touch, flushing red. His smile shone right through it like a sunbeam. "Yeah?"

You bit your lip for a moment, floundering before deciding to embrace it. "Yeah."

The quiet crept around both of you like vines, squeezing tight and pulling you together. Your arms were swathed in his oversized jacket, fidgeting on your thighs. He watched you fondly, lifting his hand to adjust your hair behind your shoulders.

Then, quietly, he said, "I don't wanna take advantage. You've had a tough night."

You shook your head, smiling a little. He was ever the gentleman "You wouldn't be."

His smile. His big bright Billy smile that shone like the sun through a stained glass window. He thumbed at your cheek. "Well then..." His words turned a little shy, and you nearly melted. "Can I take you out sometime?"

Smiling and reaching up, you squeezed his wrist. "Why, Mister Bonney-" he cracked a grin at that. "Tell me about what takin' me out would look like."

Billy sat up, both his hands on your cheeks now. He swiped away any rainwater that trickled from your hair to your face as he spoke. "Well I'd pick you up right on time..."

"Good start," you murmured, and he lifted his eyebrows playfully.

"...and I'd hafta tell you for at least twenty minutes 'bout how pretty you look. And then some." He dipped his chin, searching your eyes. "I'd take you somewhere real nice and we'd play 'Born in the USA' the whole way there 'n sing as loud as we can. We'll start with that and see how the rest goes."

You giggled, lifting your chin and holding his wrists. "Then I accept your offer, Mister Bonney."

He grinned, leaning forward to kiss your forehead, holding his lips there for a second. Your smile was bright, and you felt as though your heart's song was glowing from your eyes as you looked up at him.

Billy released you, touch lingering, and you moved to take his jacket off. He shook his head. "Keep it. Can't have you catchin' a cold before our date."

You practically floated all the way out of his truck through your front door, shutting it and sighing, struck with a certain angel's dart.

Our date!

[dix0nvix3n]

𖤓°⋆ Chapter 1 °⋆𖤓

⋆☀︎｡Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader  ⋆☀︎｡Media: The Walking Dead; No Apocalypse & Alternate Universe ⋆☀︎｡Pronouns: She/Her  ⋆☀︎｡ Warning: Smoking (Cigarettes), One mention of weed, Talk of a bad past relationship. (That's it I think?) ⋆☀︎｡ Word Count: 2.5k

⋆☀︎｡ Author's Note: It's finally here... the beginning of my magnum opus. Even though I only have this one chapter out, there hasn't been a single day since I came up with the idea for the fic where I didn't think about it at least once. I just wanna thank all the people who let me infodump about it; y'all are true soldiers, cause I can really ramble on. Special thanks to @sinkdownbeneath for helping me write the intro because I was completely stuck for months with almost nothing to show, and being the person who let me yap the most, he can account for me pretty much talking about it every day for the past five months. So, anyway, I guess I hope y'all like my first finished something that wasn't just a blurb. Last night I only had a little over 200 words at 10 PM something, and now it's 7:44 AM with 2.5k words as I write this... I don't know what got into me, but anyway, enjoy!

June 1st, 1992

Daryl finds himself propped up against a tree, catching his breath. The cool summer air around him makes his chest ache with every breath he takes. He had been running, hearing the twigs snap and the leaves crunch beneath his feet as he darted past every tree, trying to evade potential capture from a party that had him jumping out a window when the cops showed up due to a noise complaint.

He spent much of his life within the comfort of the woodland, underneath the thick canopy of leaves and branches, the first roof he ever felt safe under.

He gasped for air, his legs exhausted and his lungs overworked, adrenaline still pulsing through him as he slid down the rough bark of a tree, pulling his legs up to his chest.

He's close to the road, hearing a solitary car cruise past. He can tell it's late from the stars that peek through the leaves that loom above him in the thick black sky, but he spots his glimmer of hope, which seems to be the soft light of a gas station just a bit beyond the road's traffic barrier closest to him.

With a deep inhale, Daryl knew he had to walk to the gas station and reluctantly call for a ride in a phone booth.

After fully catching his breath, he pulled himself off the ground and began walking towards the gas station, already dreading the thought of the phone call.

Reaching the gas station, he saw two cars; one belonged to the lone worker at the cash register inside, and the other belonged to a woman smoking a cigarette at the side of the building. The woman did a quick wave at him, which he found to be a little odd just because most people at this time of night aren't too friendly, but he gave a polite wave back anyway. 

Finally getting up to the phone booth, Daryl looked down at his watch, which read 1:00 AM, causing him to let out a deep sigh, realizing how late it was and how much of an inconvenience it would be for someone to come and pick him up. 

He stepped inside the phone booth, staring at the phone for a minute before popping in the quarters he luckily grabbed from the living room floor of the party. If he hadn't grabbed them, he'd be completely fucked and have to figure out his way back to his apartment.

After dialing the number he knew would pick up, the phone rang just a few times before a tired and clearly just woken up by a phone at one in the morning voice picked up.

"Hey, Mr. H... Could ya pick me up?"

"Thanks. 'm sorry about this; kinda just started walking and didn't stop. Ended up at some party, and now I don' know where I am."

"Yeah. Place is called Peachy Speed, never seen another gas station called this; it must be family-owned or somethin' and the closest road sign says it's on Navel Street. You know where I'm at?"

"Okay, cool. See ya in a bit. Sorry again."

After hanging up, Daryl stepped out of the phone booth with his head held down, letting out a deep exhale and running a hand through his hair until he heard a pair of feet shuffling up to him.

He looked up to see who it was, and it was you, the woman who waved at him.

"Need one?" You held out an open pack of Marlboro Reds, with only one cigarette missing from the pack.

"Oh. Yeah. Thanks." His thoughts stuttered for a moment because he was caught up in the fact that you came over to him. You're really pretty, and now Daryl feels like a nervous schoolboy trying to ask a girl to the prom just because of a simple gesture.

He grabbed a cigarette out of the box and reached to pull his lighter out of his pocket, only not to feel it, and checked the other pocket to have the same luck. "Shit."

You let out a small chuckle. "Need a light too?” You pulled a lighter out of your pocket and handed it over to him.

He nodded his thanks and popped the cig in his mouth before lifting the black bic with a spiderweb seemingly hand-painted on up to the end of the stick. Flicking the flame to life, he took a long inhale and handed you back the lighter, as he really took a moment to take in the sight of you. 

You were in a black tank top tucked into a pair of black ripped jean shorts. Under the pair of jean shorts were fishnets with an intricate pattern of moons and stars, and you had on a pair of slightly battered-up Doc Martens. 

As he exhaled the first plume of smoke into the night sky, he saw your kind smile, which sent a rush of warmth through his face. Your lips had a simple gloss on them, but your eyes were a different story, painted with smokey eyeshadow, sharp graphic eyeliner, and two rounds of mascara on each set of your top lashes. He also noticed the simple yet pretty titanium stud on the left side of your nose and two helix rings on both your ears.

He thought you were gorgeous, his heartbeat a slightly faster pace than what it normally rested at.

"Rough night?" You asked as you lit up a cigarette for yourself, letting out a slight gag at the taste and smell that you weren't used to, which caused Daryl to let out a small chuckle.

"Sorta. More of just hated the fact I had to call and wake someone up to come and get me. First time smokin'?" He said before he took another drag.

"How'd you know?" You said sarcastically as your face contorted in disgust a bit at the taste building up in your mouth and throat after each puff.

"Maybe try a different brand. You'll find one ya like." A small smile graced his lips as he butted off the ash at the end and took another drag. 

"Nah. Think I'm quitting after this one. I'll just stick to weed."

He let out a chuckle. "May I ask, why'd ya even start?"

You let out a small groan, running your hand through your hair in slight embarrassment. "I finally left my shitty boyfriend once and for all. I finally realized he'd never like me for the real me. I constantly had to put on this mask around him, and I finally found out that it was impossible to fix him and the fact he didn't actually like me. I know it sounds weird, but I guess my thought process was that my epiphany about him would stick with me after smoking one like a character in a movie or something." You let out a laugh. "Stupid, right?" 

He snubbed out the end of the cigarette, as it was almost a roach at this point. "Nah, it ain't stupid. A lot of my best thoughts come after smokin' one, cleared my head more times than I can count. You deserve one after the bullshit he put you through, I think. Hope the prick is havin' a shit night after realizin' he's lost you cause ya seem awesome to me so far."

You felt warmth begin to rise in your cheeks at his words. "Thanks. I know I deserve better. I'm just pissed; it took me so long to realize it. So, anyway, what's your name? I can't believe I haven't asked yet."

"Name's Daryl; what's yours?"

You had a few good puffs left of your cig but decided to snub yours out as well since you didn't like it anyway. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Daryl. My name is (Y/N). Do you wanna come sit with me at my spot against the wall? My most likely melted slushy is calling my name to get this taste out of my mouth." 

"Yeah, I can. Might be a bit till my ride gets here, so I might as well sit down." He started walking to your spot, and you followed in tow. 

When you got back to your spot, you looked down at your slushy on the ground. The dark purple concoction of blue raspberry and cherry slushy combo was completely melted. "Goddammit." You didn't fully care though; you paid for that slushy, because you were stubborn it meant you were going to have all of what you paid for, so you drank down the rest of the sugary liquid with a satisfied sigh. It was luckily still cold, at least, and it was just what you needed to get the taste of the cigarette out of your mouth.

As time passed, you and Daryl talked about whatever came to mind as you doodled some intricate pattern on the front of the pack of the Marlboro Reds with a sharpie, ultimately moving to the back when you ran out of room. You found out that he works as a mechanic for motorcycles and cars at a nearby auto body shop, that he rides a motorcycle that he built himself a few years ago, that he loves to hunt on occasion, specifically with a crossbow, and that he ran from the cops at a house party tonight.

You knew your short time with Daryl was up when you saw a 1987 Ford Sierra MK2 pull into a parking spot at the gas station, and Daryl stood up, doing a quick stretch. The man in the car smiled and made a small wave at you, and you did the same back.

"It was nice meetin' ya, (Y/N). I'd talk more, but I don't wanna keep him up any longer." He said as he gestured a hand towards the man who came to pick him up. 

"It was nice meeting you too. Thanks for talking to me, Daryl." You pulled the pack of cigarettes from your pocket and held them out to him. "Take these. You need them more than me. Plus, I just quit." You grinned at him as he took the box from you. 

"Holy shit, thank you." He smiled back as he placed the box in his own pocket and slowly started walking backward towards the car. "Hope ya have a good night and that Nick the dick has a shit one. 

You let out a laugh at the nickname Daryl gave your ex-boyfriend and waved him goodbye with a "You too." You leaned your head back against the wall, staring up at the night sky as your eyes finally began to feel tired, knowing you should head back to your friend's apartment soon and try and get some sleep before your nine AM shift. 

Once Daryl got in the car, he let out a quiet sigh as he looked out the window at you, wishing he dared to ask for your number. You were the first good conversation he'd had in a while, and his schoolboy-like crush on you kept growing the whole time you talked.

"So, who's that?" The man said as he shifted the car into gear, Daryl noticing the grin on his face.

"A girl that started talkin' to me after our call. Name's (Y/N)." He pulled the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, mindlessly tracing the pattern of doodles you did.

"You ask for her number? The car was now beginning to be backed out of its parking spot.

"Nah. Mind if I smoke?" Daryl shook the pack and began looking for one of the lighters he left in the glove compartment a few weeks ago. 

The man shook his head with a slight sigh and said, "Go ahead." He wasn't shaking his head over Daryl wanting to smoke, but over the fact he wouldn't ask for your number when he obviously liked you, but he knew he couldn't push him; he understood Daryl's nature.

Daryl looked back out the window at you, opening it as he blew out the first cloud of smoke. He then looked back down in his lap where the box lay, flipping it over to the back to see what you had drawn there as well. His breath hitched as he saw it. On the back was your phone number, and above it said, "Call me" with a smiley face. 

The tips of Daryl's ears were beet red, and he tried to hold back his face from turning the same color. He looked back out the window at you to see you grinning at him this time, to which he smiled and waved goodbye to you as the car pulled out of the lot. In Daryl's twenty-three years of life, he could say that this night was one of his best.

"Daryl, why'd you call me Mr. H again? Son, you've known me for five years; how many times do I gotta remind you to call me by my name? It's Dale for you."

Daryl let out a small cloud of smoke this time, wanting to savor this one on the peaceful ride back. "I'll tell ya again, it happens when I'm nervous; didn't wanna wake you up, s'all, and you still are my boss after all."

"Daryl, you're like a son to me, and I told you to never be nervous if you need help, and that includes coming and picking you up in the middle of the night if needed. I'm here for you." Dale placed his right hand on Daryl's shoulder, keeping his left on the wheel as he squeezed his shoulder lightly before returning it to the steering wheel.

"Now, it's not Mr. H or Mr. Horvath, son. It's Dale."

Daryl rolled his eyes playfully. "Yes, sir," he joked, letting out a chuckle.

It was the next day around 10:30 PM when Daryl picked up the phone on his nightstand and finally called the number you gave him, nervously wrapping the cord around his finger. The phone only rang twice before the other end picked up, "Hey, is this (Y/N)?" 

The inner teenage girl in your brain screamed in excitement, so happy that he finally called. "Omg, Daryl! I was wondering when you were gonna call me. I've been waiting since I got off my shift."

"Didn't know if you worked a mornin' shift or got off at night, and I didn't wanna leave too many voicemails on your friend's phone."

"Yeah, I worked a morning shift at the diner today. I got off at five. Morning shifts are the fucking worst." You're lying on your stomach on the couch, playfully curling the phone's cord around your finger and kicking your feet back and forth in the air.

You and Daryl talked for an hour, mainly talking about the shitty customers you dealt with today, sounding especially frustrated about the woman who yelled at you just because the diner was out of unsweet tea that you couldn't do anything about because the place was also out of tea bags to make more. What did she want you to do? Just up and leave your job and go buy the tea bags, your fucking self?

"Even though I don't want to, I gotta go to bed 'cause I have another morning shift tomorrow. I get off at five, so call me around six-thirty, okay?" 

"I get off at five too. Works for me. Goodnight, (Y/N)."

"Goodnight to you too, Daryl."

The call ended, and you both looked up at your respective ceilings, smiling as warmth bloomed through your faces. You both slept well that night, falling asleep to the thought of calling each other tomorrow.

⋆☀︎｡ Extra author's note: Here's what Dale would look like in 1992, I took Dale's age of 64 from the show since the apocalypse started in 2010 so he'd be 46 in 1992. I think this picture of Jeffrey Demunn is from when he was 43 maybe? I can't remember but that's close enough to 46 and even if he isn't 43 in the image he fits the look of someone in their mid-forties. Just imagine him without the cowboy hat, okay? There's not a lot of pictures of him when he was younger.

⋆☀︎｡ Taglist: @mrdixon , @yevmarie , and @shadowcitrine

⋆☀︎｡ Divider creds: @ saradika, go check her account out! She has some very cute dividers!

[octuscle]

New Car

Peter was aware of how stupid it was to meet with the seller of the car. It was an almost new BMW M3. The car was still going to cost over USD 100,000.00. That was way out of his budget. But there was something that appealed to him even more than the car itself. In a photo, the owner had been reflected in the car's freshly polished paintwork. And Peter couldn't get this reflection out of his head. You couldn't see much. But what you could see was muscular, tattooed and wearing a shiny Adidas tracksuit. Peter couldn't get this image out of his head for the life of him. So he dialed the number given. And when he heard the voice on the other end of the line, he got a hard-on. It was churlish English with a heavy Arabic accent. Peter was actually on the phone to one of his favorite wankers. Bloody hell! He tried to act as cool as possible. He tried to ask a few questions that feigned competence in the direction of sports cars. He was trying to come across as cool and chavvy as possible. He probably sounded more than ridiculous. But the two of them arranged to go for a test drive. After the salesman hung up, Peter urgently needed to go to the bathroom. And have a wank.

The appointment for the test drive was on Friday evening. Peter took the bus to the address given, which was located in a suburb with a bad reputation. There was garbage on the streets. There was graffiti on the walls. But the cars parked on the street were in many cases like something from another world. Expensive, high-powered cars, perfectly maintained. And he was leaning against one of them. The prototype of an Arab chav who spent too much time pumping iron and in the tattoo parlor. Peter had to make sure his erection wasn't too obvious. The guy introduced himself as Ibrahim and greeted Peter with a fist bump. He said that Peter wasn't allowed to smoke in the car and offered him a fag. And instead of saying that he didn't smoke at all, Peter gratefully accepted the fag, took a light and walked around the Bavarian beauty, trying to look as professional as possible. "Shit, dude, what's that on your pants?" Damn, Peter must have sat on a piece of chewing gum on the bus. "You're not getting into my car like that," growled Ibrahim. He opened the trunk, took a pair of training pants out of a sports bag and threw them to Peter. "Seriously?" asked Peter. "Here, on the street?" "Either that or you can fuck right off again." So Peter took off his shoes and trousers, put on the tracksuit bottoms and then his…. Nike sneakers??!?!???! He wasn't wearing sneakers. Ibrahim threw him the key. "Come on then, brother. Fall in love with my baby!" Peter sat down and tried to start the engine as cool as possible. When the 510 horses howled, he winced. Ibrahim grinned. "Yes, you have to get used to it. But you will. Go on, drive towards the highway!" The car was hell. An untamed beast. Peter's forehead was covered in sweat. "Come on, old man! Step on the gas!" And Peter stepped on the gas. The speedometer showed 140 miles per hour. Damn, that would cost him his driver's license. And Ibrahim calmly started a conversation about soccer. "Of course Galatasaray will win the championship again this time!" Peter heard himself say and stepped on the gas once more. The BMW was power and strength pressed into leather and steel. He loved the car. As if remote-controlled, he chased the car first along the highway and then at far too high a speed along the arterial road towards the city center. The sleeve of his jacket stretched across his biceps as he wrenched the steering wheel. Ibrahim pressed himself into his sports seat. "Hehehe, you and the baby make the perfect unit!" "Dostum, ne düşünüyorsun? Gerçek Türk erkeklerinin kanında petrol vardır." replied Peter. No, not Peter, Sinan! Ibrahim turned up the music. Syrian gangster rap. Just the right thing to cruise along the city center boulevards now. it was a warm evening. Ibrahim opened the glass roof. He let his mighty biceps hang out of the open window. The boys and girls looked respectful, envious or disgusted when Sinan revved the engine. But in any case, they looked: Who gives a shit, they had the coolest car, they were the cool guys with the biggest muscles. "Dude, get some cigs and then change drivers," said Ibrahim Sinan. And Sinan headed for the nearest kiosk.

Sinan would never be able to afford such a car in his life. Even though he was number two in the gang behind Ibrahim, his place was usually in the passenger seat. But fuck it, Ibrahim was his boss and he followed him through rough and tumble. Ibrahim's hand missed the stick of the gearshift. But he caught something that was at least as hard. Shit, if he cums on the leather, Sinan would spend the whole morning cleaning the car again. But it was worth it.

Pics by @ki-kink

[disco-archetypes]

SHIVERS - All around you, rain falls on the great city of Revachol. Rain drips from the eaves and floods the gutters, washing the filth away.

SHIVERS - Winter's grip on the city is loosening. The spring thaw is here.

YOU - Finally. What now?

SHIVERS - Your shirt sticks to your chest. The shoulders of your disco blazer grow heavy. The cold finds its way in under your skin. You shiver, and the city shivers with you.

YOU - What is in the west?

SHIVERS - Sheets of rain over the water. A flight of stairs leading into the ocean. Wave after wave washing the coast of Martinaise, with its motorboats and gently swaying reeds.

SHIVERS - The ruins of a half-sunken seafort crumble on an inlet. Beyond the Bay of Revachol, ghosts rise into the sky.

YOU - Who are you, ghosts?

SHIVERS - The skyscrapers of La Delta, the financial district. Faint golden light seeps from the office windows.

YOU - What is down the shore?

SHIVERS - Urban coastline, rain dripping off eternite-covered roofs. Cinder blocks left over from half-finished construction. A defunct research and development building once seized by revolutionaries. An old wooden church stands on stilts above the water.

YOU - And beyond that?

SHIVERS - Coal City, end of all lines.

YOU - Run your fingers through your dampened hair.

SHIVERS - Your hair is an oily mess flecked with ash from neighbouring coal plants. Smoke stacks rise somewhere in the distance.

YOU - What's in the east?

SHIVERS - The great gates of the industrial harbour are locked. A chill runs down your back. You shudder like an animal trying to shake water from its hide.

YOU - Clench your teeth to stop shuddering.

SHIVERS - Behind the gates -- heaps of supply crates. Red and blue metal shipping containers slick with rain. The Greater Revachol Industrial Harbour is an artificial mountain range. Immense wealth resides within, and immeasurable poverty in its shadow.

YOU - And beyond that?

SHIVERS - La Drisienne, King Dris's Passenger Harbour. Cruise ships flanked by dock arms. Cranes watching over the mouth of the river distributary.

YOU - What is across the distributary?

SHIVERS - Couron, the lower middle class. Distributary after distributary cuts the city blocks in half. Seven-story buildings trail off into the rain.

YOU - What is beyond the Couron?

SHIVERS - A silvery curtain of rain over the houses. The class divide.

YOU - What's in the north?

SHIVERS - Capeside apartments -- tower blocks crowd one another, 4.46 mm bullets still lodged in their war-torn stone walls.

SHIVERS - Hallways collapsed from the mortar hits of a war that was lost long ago. Clotheslines go to waste in the rain. Radios play.

YOU - And closer to here?

SHIVERS - A yard. Rain falls onto the roof of a woodshed. Filthy water pools around a body. Droplets of rain slip from the dead man's cold cheeks.

YOU - What's in the south?

SHIVERS - A traffic jam. Rain thrumming on the roofs of motor vehicles. Inside, drivers watch water streaming down their windshields. The statue of a king shudders, he too is cold. The canal bridge has been raised.

YOU - What's on the other side?

SHIVERS - The road ascends; a raised motorway loops above the ghetto. Beneath its concrete columns -- a sea of rooftops, woodwork, and tar stretches northward. Four-story buildings as far as the rain can fall. The snows melt in Jamrock.

YOU - Why am I not there?

SHIVERS - To be in Martinaise, where no one goes. At the run-off point of a long-forgotten canal, in the whitest part of town. In the shadow of the day the Revolution failed.

YOU - What am I doing here?

SHIVERS - Standing in the rain, looking north, where Jamrock Rock City stretches inland.

YOU - Where do I live?

SHIVERS - On a street there that flows like a muddy river in the snow, with fire traps rising on either side. A film rental opens its doors to the rain, an armoured motor carriage rushes past the corner where you used to walk together... Suddenly, the hair on your back rises.

SHIVERS - YOU CANNOT RETURN.

YOU - Shudder, look further...

SHIVERS - In the rain-swept distance above the rooftops of Jamrock, a re-purposed silk mill stands perched above the motorway exit. Precinct 41 hunches in the rain.

SHIVERS - Your vision blurs. You wipe your face with your hand. The rain stings your eyes, making you look up and blink.

YOU - What's above?

SHIVERS - More coalition aerostatics. Way up there -- where rain forms -- rotors flutter silently. Your sight clears.

YOU - What's below?

SHIVERS - Collapsed storm drains. Old sewage systems flooded with rainwater. Hidden weapon caches from the Revolution. Doors leading down to Le Royaume -- the catacombs to which, for three centuries, they delivered the blue-blooded dead.

YOU - "Motherfucker." [Finish thought.]

SHIVERS - These spring thaw will not last. The winter will return to Revachol.

[oneforthemunny]

certified lover boy |modern!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: max tells eddie he's a simp for you, and maybe he is. no, he most definitely is.

contains: language, mentions of drugs, modern!eddie and reader, mentions to mature themes 18+

"Baby, you just tell me what you want, and I'll pick it up, alright?" Eddie cooed into the screen of his phone, eyes flicking from you back to the road. One hand gripped the iPhone, the other held the wheel of the mustang, cruising down the backroads of Hawkins.

Max snarled her nose in disgust, eyes cutting over to Eddie. "Ok. I think I want pizza. Do you want me to order it and get it delivered?" Your voice carried through the car's speakers, the shuffling of whatever task you were doing in the background.

"If that's what you want to do." Eddie replied sweetly. "Or we can go out."

"I don't think I want to go out." You sighed. "I'll order it. I think I just want pizza and maybe to smoke a teeny tiny blunt. Is that ok?"

Eddie snorted. "That's fine with me. I have some papers with me."

"Will you roll it for me?" You asked sweetly. The sweetest Max had ever heard you speak. She wondered if you knew she was in the car.

"I always do, baby." Eddie purred lowly back at you, giving you a dazzling, dimpled smile. Max gagged silently, dramatically over Eddie's shoulder but he ignored her. "I gotta drop Red off, and then I'll be over."

"Ok," You hummed. "You want your usual?"

"Please?" Eddie grinned. "I'll Venmo you for it."

"I got it, Ed." You snorted lightly. "My treat. You just bring the weed."

Eddie rolled his eyes playfully. "Ok, I'll see you soon. Bye, baby."

"Bye." You chirped.

Eddie's eyes flicked towards the screen. "Love you." He added.

You smiled through the screen. "Love you." You replied before the call ended.

Eddie pocketed his phone, Max's face disgusted, nose twisted up in repulsion. "You're down bad, Munson." She scoffed, shaking her head.

Eddie rolled his eyes. "What?" He shrugged, she gave him a pointed look. "Oh, I'm down bad because I'm in love?"

"Ew!"

"What?" Eddie threw his hand out.

Max shook her head. "You're just... I don't know, it's gross." She shuddered. "You're all simpy for her."

"Simpy?" Eddie gawked.

"Yeah, you're a total fucking simp. It's gross." Max laughed.

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I am not a simp." He grumbled, defensive and a little huffy. He felt his phone ding in the center console, your name popping up followed by a string of emojis.

Max gave him a pointed look. "Really?" She asked sarcastically. "Really you're not?"

"Shut up." Eddie huffed, turning his phone over so she couldn't see the screen anymore. "Y'know, make fun of me all you want, but one day you're gonna be in love too-"

"-Oh, God, Eddie, please stop. 'M gonna be sick-"

"-I see the way you look at Sinclair. You think he won't make a move on you one day and you won't be the same way?" Eddie challenged.

Max blushed deep, the red on her cheeks nearly matching her hair. "Shut up. Me and Lucas are just friends you freak." She huffed.

Eddie snorted. "Right." He looked over at her playfully.

Max's eyes narrowed at him, blistering glare that Eddie just rolled his eyes at, he was used to it. "Whatever," She huffed, when Eddie pulled into the gravel drive of her trailer. "I'll never be a simp like you Munson." She declared smugly, reaching for the door handle.

"Right, you keep telling yourself that." Eddie snorted. "You just worry about selling that shit, you got me? We gotta settle up with Rick this Saturday."

"I got it." Max rolled her eyes, patting her backpack full of weed. "I'll have it sold by tomorrow. Going to a party tomorrow."

Eddie nodded. "You need a ride?"

"No," Max blushed, pausing for a moment. "Lucas is taking me."

Eddie barked out a laugh, clapping his hands together. "Oh really? Lover boy's gonna take you?"

Max huffed. "Shut up. We're just friends." She slammed the door to his Mustang. Eddie rolled down the window. "You go enjoy your pizza."

"Oh, I will." Eddie grinned, pushing the gear stick back.

"You're getting weak in the knees, Munson!" Max called from the steps. "Stand up, you fuckin' simp!"

Eddie laughed, shaking his head before pulling out of the driveway. If only she knew, Eddie grinned to himself, looking down at his phone. His heart rate picked up at your little message, 'on it's way. see you soon drive safe :)' so minimal- it had no business making his head spin the way it did, foot pressing further on the gas.

Probably for the best Max didn't know how in deep he was with you, she'd tease him relentlessly if she did. But how could he not be? You were perfect, Eddie was sure of it.

The way you always smiled so wide when you saw him, even when you had a bad day, your eyes lit up, grin crinkling up to your eyes. You’d hug him tight, muttering a quiet, “Hi, baby,” that always left him floating.

He’d bury his face in your neck, inhaling your scent deep. Your skin, your perfume- fuck, you smelled so good, intoxicating to him. He’d secretly spray your perfume, the pink, slender bottle on your nightstand, all over his clothes before he’d leave, pressing his nose to his collar when he wanted a whiff of you. Carrying you with him through the sweet scent of your perfume.

Or the way you’d hold his hand when you two would walk through the mall, lazily bumping hips while he carried the bags- he always insisted on carrying the bags. You’d drag him into Sephora or Aerie, and he’d just stand there with the basket, letting you pile it up and not complaining once.

He loved it the most when you’d go try things on. When he got to see you come out, spinning around and examining your body in the clothes. He had an excuse to gawk at you openly. You’d get frustrated when he’d tell you that you should get everything you tried on, that you looked good in anything you tried on.

He like it when you’d stop and smell candles, holding the open jar out towards him, giggling when he’d wrinkle his nose in displeasure at the scent. “No?” You’d raise your brows playfully, he’d shake his head.

He‘d get positively smitten when you’d sit at the Hideout with him, recording and snapping pictures on your phone of him and the boys to post later. Filming TikToks and hoping they’d go viral. One did, once, they’d gained some traction off of it and he was so thankful for you. Smiling proudly when you reported the video’s growth, and it spreading even wider across your face when the boys cheered you on for it.

He loved how funny you were, even when you didn’t mean to be. Pulling faces that left him shaking with laughter, or snarky comments that he couldn’t help but grin at. You were mean when you wanted to be, a little hedgehog with a prickly exterior and a soft underbelly. You were protective of him, he knew that. Saw it when you’d snap and sneer at the waitress who got too flirty, eyes daggers that scared her off. Just as venomous, if not worse, when some guy flirted with you at a party. Sending him retreating with his tail tucked between his legs, your hand on Eddie’s leg or wrapped around him, touching him somehow to show your claim. You usually would kiss him deep, trailing down his neck and sucking a deep bruise into the porcelain skin of his neck. It was more PDA than you usually would give, but with him, you didn’t care- it drove him wild in the best way.

He was glad Max or anyone else wasn’t around to see how soft he got around you. Especially in the intimacy of your relationship, when the two of you were alone. He’d lay on top of you, head in your chest, smothering himself into your breasts while you played with his hair. Twisting and twirling the ringlets around your finger, pressing kisses to his head while he laid there, letting himself be babied by you. He never expected you to be so caring and sweet like that, it had taken a while for that side to come through, but once you showed him a tiny shred of it, he was hooked for life.

Eddie liked how sweet you were then, but nothing compared to how sweet you were to him when he was between your legs, lapping at your cunt like it was his lifeline. Like his only purpose in life was to please you, and he was convinced it was. Your voice would lilt, nasally and high- nearing a whine. You’d sing his praises, back arched and writing while he devoured you. You were so sweet, tasted so sweet, sounded so sweet. To hell with what anyone else thought about you, Eddie knew you were sweet, his sweet girl.

And you knew him too, the Eddie that the world didn’t see- or he tried not to let see. The sweet, dedicated, lovestruck boy who bended to your whim. Who would do anything and everything for you, did everything for you. Eddie Munson, the simp- no, the certified lover boy. Your certified sweet lover boy.

[mypearlsareclutched]

It's So Surreal

High By The Beach | Chapter Five

Modern!Aegon II x Original Female Character, Modern!Aemond x Original Female Character

Running away together, Aegon and Mila traverse their newfound friendship. Two ex-addicts with unresolved tension, in a beach front summer house, all alone... oh, the possibilities....

Yuh let's get into it!! Finally we're at the beach, I've been edging y'all with the title but nOW IT MAKES SENSE! x

Song inspiration | High By The Beach, Lana Del Rey

CW//TW: Sexual Content (MDNI, 18+), oral (f receiving), drinking, smoking fags and also the devil's lettuce, Aegon being the best sponsor, Aemond returns to the fic, beach vibes, song references

Word count | 4.1k

previous chapter // next chapter

When Aegon said he knew a place they could go, he was of course referring to the Hightower's disused beach house on the coast of Old Town.

As they drove towards the edge of Kings Landing, Aegon talked softly about the beach house. While a lot of Alicent and Otto's side of the family lived in the main city of Old Town, Aegon's uncle Gwayne had been a bit of a player in his youth, using the family's beach house as his bachelor pad. He continued to live there into adulthood, and raised Daeron there when Alicent begged him to care for her youngest.

Gwayne had since gotten into a serious relationship with a woman from the Iron Islands, and had moved to live with her once Daeron moved out and went to university. The beach house had been empty ever since.

The perfect escape, Aegon said.

Mila fell asleep listening to him talk, her head leaning against the window, Aegon's soft voice her lullaby, accompanied by the ancient radio playing 'Cherry-Coloured Funk' by the Cocteau Twins.

Jace sits on one of Dragonstone's many balconies, legs swinging childishly as he takes a hit from a spliff. The early morning wind ruffles his hair, seagulls chattering excitedly.

Laenor had left for a business trip, and after seeing him off, the Velaryon family had went off to their own corners of the estate to go about their own tasks. Since he didn't need to be in Kings Landing till next monday, Jace was happy to self-medicate and stare longingly off into the distance, imagining he's Tom Cruise in Top Gunn.

A smooth engine hums nearby, and Jace squints down at the road leading to Dragonstone. An expensive car drives through the porte-cochère, parking haphazardly. Jace's eyes widen as a tall, blonde man exits it, his eye patch sharply contrasting his otherwise pale and vampiric appearece.

"Ah fuck..." Jace sighs, swinging his legs over the railing to rush back inside.

He runs through the long and winding corridors of his family home, making a beeline for his mother's office. Rhaenyra barely looks up when her eldest son crashes through the double doors, her reading glasses perched on her nose as she looks over piles of documents

"Mum-!" Jace exclaims, rushing to his mother's desk.

"That better not be a joint in your hand." Rhaenyra says as she looks up at him from over the rim of her reading glasses.

"What? Oh." Jace tentatively places the smoking spliff on top of Rhaenyra's desk, "Aemond's here."

"What-?"

The office doors burst open, and Aemond Targaryen charges forward with the rage of an oncoming storm. Rhaenyra narrows her eyes, already unnerved.

"Where is she?" Aemond demands as he reaches Rhaenyra's desk, his voice cold and his stare even colder.

"I don't know what you are talking about, dear brother." Rhaenyra sighs, taking off her glasses and glaring at Aemond.

"My mother said you walked her out of the hospital. She hasn't returned home, she's not answering my calls, no-one has seen her. Where. Is. She?" Aemond's voice grows icier as he goes on, his chest rising and falling with barely contained anger as his lone eye pierces into Rhaenyra's, as if he could see her thoughts if he looked hard enough.

"She's somewhere safe." Rhaenyra states, "That is all you need to know-"

Aemond slams his hand atop the table, sending various pens clattering onto the floor. Jace flinches before regaining his composure, trying to seem as relaxed as his mother.

"You better check yourself, one-eye-" He starts, as Aemond whirls around and points a finger at him.

"Bite your fucking tongue, runt!" The blonde bites.

"Now how about we all just calm down..." Rhaenyra states, walking around her desk to stand in between the two.

"I deserve to know where she is. She's my fucking girlfriend!" Aemond yells, voice echoing around the office.

"Not anymore, she's not." Rhaenyra spits.

Aemond's face drops, and he stiffens. He stares down at his half-sister, who holds his glare with a steely one of her own. Jace stands awkwardly, looking between them with furrowed brows.

With a roll of his eyes and a twitch of his nose, Aemond breaks the staring contest first.

"This isn't over." He sneers, turning on his heel and storming back out of the office, like a tornado heading towards the next city to demolish.

Rhaenyra exhales, walking back around her desk and falling into her chair.

"It's nine in the morning, can our family at least wait until midday to create a civil war."

"Clearly not." Jace sighs and sits atop the desk, watching the door in case Aemond decides on a round two. His phone rings loudly, causing both Jace and Rhaenyra to jump. Pulling out the offending device, Jace frowns at the name on screen.

"Cregan? What's wrong?" Jace listens to his friends frantic voice, lips pressing into a thin line before pulling the phone from his ear, "Mila's gone missing."

"Seven hells." Rhaenyra picks up Jace's abandoned joint, taking a hit.

Mila startles awake as the car swerves violently, a car honks and Aegon tells them to stick their car horn where the sun doesn't shine. Seeing Mila wake up, Aegon winces.

"Sorry, sorry!" Aegon laughs, "Haven't driven in a while."

Humming, Mila stretches, looking around at the world outside their care. Their crossing over a bridge, a wide lake beneath them.

"Where are we?" She asks, looking at the water with a small smile.

"We just passed Highgarden, heading over to Brightwater."

"I've never been here before." Mila sighs, opening the window to let the air into the car, "Furthest I've been west is Silverhill."

"What the hells were you doing in Silverhill?" Aegon laughs.

"Same thing I've always been doing." Mila smiles bitterly, "Partying, drinking, snorting stuff."

"A girl after my own heart." The Targaryen smirks, but his face falls as he sees Mila's saddened eyes, "I'm guessing these aren't fond memories?"

"None of them really are." She comments, fiddling with a loose piece of thread from Aegon's coat.

The car is silent for a moment, the wind whistles from the open window, a seagull caws from the distance. Mila keeps her lips pressed together, but Aegon clears his throat.

"Keep talking." Aegon says softly, and Mila looks over at him with a raised eyebrow, "I mean it. I like listening to you speak. And you've got a lot to get off your chest."

"You don't want to hear me complain about my sorry life, Aegon."

"Well it's a hell of a lot better than listening to this one Cocteau Twins CV this car has got." Aegon groans, "Seriously, this car is so old all we can listen to is CD's... I've listened to Heaven or Last Vegas about fifty times today."

"Okay, okay..." Mila laughs, sticking her hand out the car window to feel the breeze, "Where should I start?"

"The beginning is always a good place."

"Yeah, I'm sure it is..." She chuckles, "Okay. So..."

Aegon was a good listener.

Mila told him all about her past. From the months after her parents passed, to her friendships with his cousins, to her crazy years of partying and drinking and sniffing and snorting. She even told him all about how she met Aemond, leaving out their rendezvous in the bathroom. Aegon barely said a word, and Mila had to check him occasionally to make sure he had not fallen asleep at the wheel. He had never been so quiet before.

The bridge and river turned into forests into fields into the city of Old Town, and Mila realised she hadn't felt so calm in years. Well, calm while being sober, at least.

On multiple occasions, mostly when they had to stop at a red light, Mila noticed Aegon watching her. He rested his head against the headrest, looking at her through his long lashes, a small smile on his lips.

"And then I found out that Cregan and Rhaena were seeing each other. I got so upset, because what nineteen year old wants their brother dating their best friend? Like, oh great, when we go out, my brother's going to be coming too? We had this massive argument... What are you staring at?" Mila laughs, giving Aegon a look as he stares at her. He gives her a dopey grin, shrugging before looking back at the road ahead, "Weirdo."

"Shush, I'm driving."

"Fine, I'll shush."

"No, keep talking." Aegon insists, "So did you and Rhaena fight? Like, fistacuffs? Did you invite her for a duel?"

"Yeah, we fenced." Mila nudges him, and he laughs.

"Hey, we need to stop and fill the car up. And you should probably get some clothes that don't make you look like a hooker who charges five quid for a blowjob."

"You're such a charmer."

The service station they stopped at was surprisingly huge, and Aegon was surprisingly excited to stop and look around. The man was practically giddy when he pulled up, because 'they have a gift shop'.

Capitalism wins again.

A man pumping petrol into his car gives them a strange look. Mila realised they probably looked a right pair, with her skimpy dress and big coat and his pyjamas and neon crocs.

"Should we get this?" Aegon says as he looks around a techno section. He points to a pay-as-you-go, retro looking flip phone. Drug dealer chic. Mila gives him a look.

"A pay as you go?" She chuckles, "Are we on the run from the government?"

"Hells, I might be on some kind of watchlist." Aegon muses, looking down at the phone with furrowed brows, "I'm definitely not allowed in any universities, or any pubs on the Iron Islands. Or the Vale."

"Where in the Vale?"

"The Vale. All of it." Aegon grimaces.

Mila shakes her head, looking to the tiny clothes shop next to a Waterstones, "I'm going to go grab some simple clothes and change."

"Alright. I'll be in the at the claw machine."

"Are you twelve?"

"Inches, yeah." Aegon winks and saunters off.

Inside the clothes shop, Mila found a soft, mens hoodie which was too big for her, a white tank top and a black maxi skirt. Flinging them on, she went off in search of Aegon. She saw him in the gift shop, trying on a pair of novelty sunglasses. The shape of a bikini clad rack, classy.

Mila rolled her eyes affectionately, looking around the various keychains and knick knacks that ranged from silhouettes of tall towers to sea views, all having puns in regards to the Reach. 'Highgarden says 'Hi'' 'You're older than Oldtown'. 'I went to Tumbleton and all I got was this lousy keychain'. Mila ran her fingers through them, the metal jingles as they crash together.

"Hey." Aegon greets, walking over with two pairs of sunglasses, "Do you prefer the tits or the alien eyes? You look nice by the way."

"Alien eyes. If you wear the tits to the beach you'll be put on another register." Mila jokes, "And thanks, this is part two of my 'walk of shame' collection."

"Would it be crazy if I said I prefer this one?"

"You really are reformed." Mila smiles, and he offers her his elbow as they head over to purchase Aegon's alien sunglasses.

They get back into the car as it begins to rain again. Mila sighs, wrapping Aegon's coat around herself before she looks over at the man and gasps, "Aegon I still have your coat!"

"...Yeah?" He laughs, unlocking the car.

"Well, it's raining. You're in a sleeping gown! You should have this back."

"Absolutely not." Aegon rolls his eyes, a smile on his lips, "It looks better on you anyway." As he gets in the car without another word, Mila wraps the coat around herself happily.

Wrapped up in the warm coat, with the Cocteau Twins playing softly, Mila falls asleep immediately.

Aemond was lucky Rhaena had a terrible poker face. When he stormed into their recording studio, he internally breathed a sigh of relief at only finding Rhaena and not her sister.

The younger woman stared at him with wide eyes from her perch atop a leather seat, eyebrows raised as her fingers pause playing her guitar.

"Mila." Aemond asks simply, an eyebrow raised, "Where is she? Now."

"I have no idea." Rhaena lies, staring at him like a deer caught in headlights.

"Yes you do."

"Yes I do." She sighs, putting her guitar down and standing from her seat.

"Where is she?" Demands Aemond, taking a dangerous step towards her. Rhaena's eyes widen, and she takes a step back.

"Look, you really can't go and see her. She's not doing well and the place she's in won't allow people who aren't family to go and visit, and you'll really mess up her treatment if you go-"

"So she's at rehab?"

"...Shit!" Rhaena bites her lip, pressing a finger to it, shaking her head, "No, no she's not. Why would you think that? She's somewhere else."

"Which facility is she at?" Aemond asks with another menacing footstep.

"None! I swear she's nowhere." Rhaena insists with another step back.

"Nowhere?"

"Nowhere! Like, nowhere at all. Like, honestly." Rhaena gnaws her lip, face contorting as she tries to think of a lie. "You haven't gone to see your brother lately, have you?"

Aemond's eyebrows furrow, "Why?"

"Wait, no reason! Actually you should never visit your brother, like ever again. Please don't."

Aemond growls, turning on his heel and rushing back out, ignoring Rhaena's calls to stop. He was a man on a mission, and that mission was getting his girlfriend from that damned facility that has done nothing for his delinquent brother.

Weirwood was a strange looking building. Surrounded by strange trees, housing strange people.

Aemond grimaced as he looked up at it briefly, fragments of memories appearing before his eye. Dragging Aegon by the scruff of his neck like a kitten up the stairs, practically tossing him at the woman at the front desk, storming back out with Aegon's deranged giggles following him.

And now, his Mila is here.

And all because of you, a voice whispers to him inside his head. It sounds like Otto, his own guilt manifested like Jiminy fucking Cricket. Gods you really are a screw up. You should be in here, instead of her. For your addiction to messing things up.

The doors burst open as Aemond storms through them, earning a few confused look from various staff and patients. He's too focused to care.

The woman at the front desk glares as he approaches, practically snarling, but his eyes are focused on a blonde woman standing next to her.

"Halaena?" Aemond asks.

His sister looks up, giving her brother a microscopic smile, "Hey Aem."

The woman at the front desk, Nettles, gives him a glare, rolling her dark eyes before turning her attention back to his sister.

"...so like I said, I went in to check on her last night. The bedroom window was broken, and when I looked around the building, they were both gone." Nettles continues to Halaena.

"Oh no..." She murmurs, playing with one of her curls anxiously.

"What's going on?" Aemond demands, hands twitching as his sides, "Halaena why are you here?"

Halaena's eyes widen, "I came to visit..."

"Aegon? Why are you visiting Aegon, I thought Otto said not to visit him anymore. What's wrong with him?"

"He's vanished again." Nettles interrupts, clicking her tongue, "Shame. He was doing so well."

"Good riddance." Aemond growls, "As far away as he can be from Mila, the better."

Silence follows. Halaena and Nettles stare at him awkwardly, sharing a look before cringing. Aemond's body deflates.

"...Tell me she's here." He practically pleads, the fight slowly leaving his body.

"...She's here?" Halaena says weakly.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Mila wakes up with a shudder.

Her body is surrounded by soft fabric, wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets and comforters. Lay on a sofa in a cozy living room with large open windows, she blinks at the sunsetting in the horizon.

Music blasts from another room, unmistakably Back To Life by Soul II Soul, and someone was singing along. Nowhere close to on-key.

Mila yawns, climbing from her nest, walking on weak, Bambi legs across the birchwood floors, rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

Walking into the kitchen, Mila halts as she sees Aegon at the stove, dancing in place as he cooks something. He sings along to Back To Life, messing up the words occasionally, and Mila holds back a laugh as she watches him in the doorway.

As Aegon spins in place, he helps when he sees her

"The seventies called, it wants its shirt back." Mila laughs, nodding to his bright blue, Hawaiian shirt.

"Yeah, and the nineties emailed and requested their insults back." Aegon rolls his eyes.

Grabbing a spatula and scraping off slightly overdone eggs, he places them and lays down the meal with a flourish.

"Omelette!" Aegon says proudly. Mila laughs, clapping his efforts. He bows dramatically, humbly accepting the praise for his hunter gatherer skills.

"No plates?"

"Are you kidding? My uncle Gwayne and Daeron lived here, left to their own devices no less. We're lucky I found forks."

The two of them sit on the porch of the house, watching the waves crashing as they eat their omelettes. They don't speak, choosing instead to listen to the ambience of the beach instead. Peaceful sleep envelops them, only occasionally interrupted by the sound of Aegon yelling at a seagull to keep away.

Mila takes the plates inside, before returning and finding Aegon patting the pockets of his joggers, making an 'ah!' noise before pulling out a rather crumpled joint.

"No fucking way." Mila beams, picking it out of the Targaryens hands with a massive grin.

"Should you be partaking?" Aegon says with narrowed eyes, though he holds out the lighter for him to take.

"Try to stop me!" Mila says as she runs off, heading towards the beach waves as she cradles the spliff.

"I'm the worst sponsor ever." Aegon sighs, jogging to catch up with her.

Mila collapses onto the sand, putting the spliff to her lips. The crackling of the lighter makes her happy as she lights it, and she takes a deep breath. The taste is bitter, it burns her throat and lungs, and it makes her head loll back. Perfection.

"Alright, Snoop Dogg, hand it over." Aegon chuckles as he leans over her to pinch the joint.

"Gods this is amazing." Mila sighs happily as she looks over at the tide, feeling the breeze in her hair and

"So did you sleep well?" He asks, leaning back on his elbows.

"Best sleep I've had in years." Mila laughs, "Did you carry me from the car?"

Aegon shrugs, "Well it was either that or I leave you there, you were not waking up." They share a chuckle, the distant seagulls harmonising with them.

"Didn't think I was dead?" Mila asks as she takes off her trainers and socks, burying her toes in the sand.

"Hoped not. Can't find a pulse for shit so don't ask me to do that in the future."

"How are you still alive?"

"Spite." Aegon comments as he golds out the spliff for Mila to take.

Mila laughs, taking another hit from the offered spliff from Aegon's hands. Just like she did from Aemond a year ago. She tries not to dwell on it as she holds the weed in her lungs, avoiding Aegon's eyes.

The spliff has been smoked. The sun is now merely peeking over the horizon, bleeding the sky orange and pink.

Aegon lies back, practically collapsing onto the sand with a contented sigh. Mila giggles as she joins him, their shoulders bumping slightly. They burst out into childish giggles, the sand below them getting into their hair.

"I'm glad we came here." Mila whispers.

"Me too."

Aegon leans on his elbows, watching Mila's profile. She turns and gives him a dopey smile, looking over his face.

"You're tense." She states.

"So are you." Aegon counters.

Mila lifts her hand up, carting her fingers through his choppy waves, his hair surprisingly soft to the touch. Aegon's eyes flutter closed, his head tilting to let her continue.

"Mila..." He whispers, breathlessly.

She doesn't know what to say. Finally, her mind is quiet. All she knows is that she's here, in this moment, with Aegon Targaryen. And she's happy.

Aegon watches her face, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek lightly, before is caresses down her jaw, her neck, her bare shoulder. Mila's breath hitches slightly, his touch electrifying. Taking notice of this, Aegon continues, his warm palm travelling down her arm, then over the soft fabric covering her waist.

Mila lays back down, licking her lip as she focuses on the feel of Aegon's hand as it traverses her form.

He lifts her legs over her shoulders, his eyes moving up to hers to look for discomfort. She lets out a shuddered breath, body craving and her mind too foggy to think rationally.

Aegon's talented fingers push her skirts up, bunching them at her hips as he sucks in a harsh breath at the sight of her panties.

Mila is sure she's soaked through them, her arousal impossible to dispute.

"Fuck..." Aegon groans, surging forward and living her through the material.

Letting out a throaty moan, Mila arches. His tongue is thick and skilled as it explores her through her panties, finding her clit easily and pressing his lips to it to suck on it. Her legs open further, allowing further access.

Aegon pulls her panties down, leaving them hanging from her ankle as he dives back in, devouring her immediately.

Mila can merely grip onto his blonde hair, tugging on it gently as he feasts on her, licking her swollen folds and sucking on her clit gently. He uses his hands to hold her trembling thighs open, not hard enough to stop her if she wanted to prevent him, but enough so his head does not get crushed. His tongue invades her opening, making Mila arch up.

"Taste's so fucking good." Aegon praises, talking directly into her cunt due to his inability to separate from her sweet wetness.

"Don't stop, don't stop, please..." Mila begs, pushing Aegon even closer as he feasts deliriously. He moans into her, the vibrations making her even wetter and her pleasure build.

Aegon wraps his arms around her thigh, keeping her close to him as he fucks his tongue into her, his nose rubbing against her clit. Mila squirms beneath him, pushing herself against his mouth eagerly as her orgasm gets closer and closer.

"Feels so good..." She moans, tugging on Aegon's hair tighter which makes a pleased grunt leave his mouth, his blue eyes looking up at her with desire.

"Are you gonna cum, pretty girl?" Aegon groans, sensing her growing pleasure by her movements and her moans, "Come on, cum on my tongue, wanna taste you..."

"Oh gods!" Mila squeals, feeling herself gush harder onto Aegon's face as her orgasm soars through her. Aegon laps it up like a drunk man downing their last of the night, his tongue unrelenting in its need to drink her up.

She collapses against the sand, completely boneless. Aegon gently lays her legs back down, before laying down next to her. Mila looks over at him, noting his closed eyes and deep breaths. His face is contented, his mouth and chin covered in her slick. Mila lets out a deep exhale, looking back at the orange sky.

She's too high to care about what this will mean...

AN//Living for the headcanon that Modern!Aegon eats meow meow like a man STARVED. Finally had a bit of Aegon and Mila action, after like four chapters of slow burn (i couldn't wait any longer), and Aemond's trying to find her... let's see how this plays out ;)

[iamthecomet]

𝙴𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚊𝚍

Rating: E Pairing: Dewther Featuring: Blowjobs, hand jobs, a long drive. Roadhead. Word Count: 2.1k Inspired by this post from @dewinabsentia Many thanks to @miasmaghoul, @forlorn-crows and @st-danger for enabling me (like always). Banner by the amazing @forlorn-crows

On AO3 here, or under the cut.

They've been on the road for a while. Long enough that Dew has sunk into the easy monotony of highway driving. One hand on the wheel. The other arm resting in the open window. A cigarette dangling from his fingers. Ash drifting down onto the window controls. He’ll brush them away later. Before they get home and Mountain sees.

The old truck is the only car he's allowed to smoke in, so naturally he has to take full advantage. He takes a long drag. Keeps a cursory eye on the cars in front of him. They’re far enough ahead that he doesn’t really have to think about them. He hates driving near other people, because everyone else is a fucking terrible driver. They don’t pay attention. They go too slow. They tap their brakes on straight flat sections of roads. He wants to be able to relax while he drives–he doesn’t want to have to fight for his life among idiots.

Dew sinks deeper into the seat. He wishes, for the millionth time, that the old truck had cruise control. But it doesn’t. It’s an early 90s relic, with manual crank windows, and heavy doors that stick when you open them. The cloth on the bench seat is soft and warm and riddled with cigarette burns that mostly aren’t Dew’s fault.

It’s a far cry from the modernity of the other cars in Abbey possession. But this one is Dew’s favorite. It struggles to start sometimes, it guzzles gas. But the stereo is new, and loud. And it’s so sturdy Dew’s pretty sure it could survive nuclear war.

He finishes his cigarette. He grinds it out in the ashtray–because it’s old enough to have both an ashtray and a cigarette lighter.

Aether’s across the bench seat from him. Leaning up against the door. Singing along softly to the music as he looks out the window. Watching the trees flicker by. Tensing up every time someone merges onto the highway next to them a little too aggressively.

He’s had his hand on Dew’s thigh for the last twenty miles. Warm and heavy and creeping higher and higher with each exit they pass.

Dew feels free for the first time in months. Away from the Abbey. Just the two of them in an old beat up truck. Traveling a hundred miles north to pick up some artifact Imperator insists they have. Dew feels like he can breathe. No band practice. No Imperator or Copia or Mountain breathing down his neck. No Cirrus telling him to do the dishes. Or Aeon asking to practice. He loves all of them with every bit of his soul.

But Satanas did he need this drive. He’s glad it’s Aether who’s with him. Everyone else feels the need to talk when they’re in a car. To fill silence. To tell Dew every mundane thing about their day, their week, their feelings. And again, he loves them. He loves listening to them talk about literally anything. But also–there’s something about the sound of the wheels on the road, and the music and nothing else.

Aether’s hand slides higher the longer they go. Dragging up Dew’s black jeans. There’s a rip in the upper thigh–just below the pocket–and Dew almost jumps out of his skin when he feels Aether’s fingers dip into it. Just a little. The warm calloused brush of his fingers over soft sensitive skin.

Dew lets his head fall back against the headrest. He laughs to himself. “You bored or something?”

Aether shakes his head, he turns to look at Dew for what feels like the first time since they got on the highway. “Course not. I’m with you.”

“Gross,” Dew rolls his eyes, and Aether laughs at him. That big hand on his thigh squeezes and Dew makes a choked little noise as Aethers’ fingers graze over the the crotch of his jeans, the barest touch along his balls and he’s trying not to shudder.

“I’m driving,” Dew chides.

“Yeah, I know. But I’m not.”

Dew knows he’s in trouble before Aether actually does anything. It’s the weight of his hand on his leg. The glint in those violet eyes that tell Dew it is only going to get worse. And Dew knows he could stop it–he also knows he won’t. He doesn’t want to.

He’ll protest though, just a little. That’s part of the fun, after all. But it isn’t like he’s going to say no to a handjob. Driving is only taking up like 10% of his brain–the other 90 needs something to do.

Aether’s hand slides sideways, into Dew’s lap. Cupping him through his jeans. Dew hisses. His eyes flutter closed just for a second. Breath huffing out in a soft sigh that almost feels like relief.

“Eyes on the road, Dewdrop.”

“Yes, mom.” Dew says, opening his eyes. Trying and failing to regain an ounce of his composure. Aether squeezes and Dew makes a pained gurgling sound and presses his hips up into Aether’s hand.

Aether palms him, stroking and squeezing. Fingers dipping between Dew’s legs to press up against his balls. Dew can practically feel the blood leaving his brain. His pants get tighter, Aether’s squeezes get firmer. He doesn’t have the will to fight the little sighs and whimpers each stroke brings.

“Satanas, Aeth–”

“Just getting started,” Aether mutters, and Dew’s stomach swoops. Either from anticipation or concern. He doesn’t have time to voice it before Aether’s grabbing for his zipper. The rasp of it is drowned out by the music. Aether pops the button on Dew’s jeans. It takes both hands to peel away the tight fabric, and Dew doesn’t help. Just glancing down long enough to watch Aether pull his briefs down until Dew’s cock springs free.

There’s already pre beading at the tip. Aether swipes his thumb through it and Dew shudders, a full body twitch he has no hope of controlling. They’re so lucky the highway is basically deserted. Lucky it’s straight and flat and familiar.

Dew should stop him. That would be safer. He rolls his hips instead. Fucking his cock through Aether’s loose fist.

“Sit back, relax,” Aether coos. And Dew would snap at him if he had any brain cells left to do it. Instead, he listens, as best he can. Eyes on the road. Each slow stroke of Aether’s hand sending little fissures of pleasure up his spine. He tries to keep from rocking his hips up into Aether’s hand–but it’s hard.

It’s good, easy. Not enough to make him cum, but that’s what he wants. A little pleasure to break up the monotony of this drive. He relaxes back into the seat, really relaxes. Fingers loosening on the wheel, body sagging back into the seat as the haze of pleasure settles over him.

“Good?”

Dew nods, hums an affirmative. “Real good.”

Aether lets out a little chuckle, and then, Dew hears his seatbelt click. He jolts, spine going straight. Head whipping over to look at Aether just in time to watch the seatbelt retract back into the door.

“What are you–”

“You’ll see.”

Aether shifts, moves so he’s laying flat against the bench seat. Legs hanging off the edge by the door. One hand resting heavy on Dew’s thigh–the other, still teasing the sticky head of his cock.

Dew’s head spins. It takes too long for real thoughts to catch up to him. Aether drags his thumbnail over the thick vein on the underside of Dew’s cock and Dew chokes. He shakes his head like doing that will make him think more clearly.

It doesn’t work.

“Put your fucking seatbelt on, we’re on the highway,” Dew snaps, the words finally forming.

Aether hums. His breath ghosts out over the head of Dew’s cock. Dew looks down just in time to watch it kick. A blurt of pre, drools down the side. Aether catches it with his tongue.

“Guess you’d better drive careful, then.”

Dew doesn’t think any part of this constitutes driving carefully. He puts his other hand on the wheel. Ten and two. He never drives like this–but he’s pretty sure he’s going to need both hands.

To his credit–Aether starts slow. A chaste kiss to the head, before he starts to really kiss it. Dew can’t help but look down. To watch Aether make out with the head of his cock. Tongue flicking out over the slit. Tongue dragging over the head in the same motions Dew is so used to feeling against his own tongue. Languid and decadent. Aether hums happily as he laps up more pre.

“Eyes on the road, droplet,” Aether mumbles against the sensitive underside of Dew’s cock.

Dew drags his eyes up and away from the scene below him. Back to the road, which is a safer, but much less interesting option. It’s almost worse when he can’t see it. When he doesn’t anticipate Aether’s every move. Each flick of his tongue is a surprise. A new brand of raw pleasure that has his knuckles going white on the steering wheel.

Aether sucks the head into his mouth and Dew jolts. Groaning low and wrecked. Hips bucking up, sliding another inch into the wet heat of Aether’s mouth. His eyes flutter–he manages to keep them open. Mostly by clenching his jaw so hard it actually hurts. He worries, vaguely, about chipping a tooth, but it’s a fleeting thought. Chased out of his brain when Aether takes all of him at once.

Nose pressed into the soft curls at the base of Dew’s cock. Breathing steadily through his nose. Aether groans. Dew feels the vibrations in his bones. When Aether swallows, Dew can’t help but thrust up into his throat a little more. Aether chokes, just a little, just enough to make something traitorous in Dew’s stomach twist.

He wants to pull the car over. He wants to hold Aether’s head down and fuck his throat until tears spill down Aether’s face.

He almost does it when he glances over to see Aether humping the seat. To see him sneak his free hand into his pants so he can grope himself. Humping into his own palm. The sight makes Dew feel like he’s going insane. He wants free hands. He wants to slip his fingers around Aether’s throat and feel the bulge of his cock.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Dew breathes.

Aether pulls off with a gasp. A string of spit connecting his lips to Dew’s ruddy cock. “Watch the road, Dew.”

Dew would rather do anything but. But he does. Pulling his eyes away from Aether’s flushed cheeks and pleasure bright eyes.

“Gonna get you for this,” Dew breathes. Aether chuckles. Kissing the tip again, sloppy.

Aether’s only answer is a little hum before he descends again. Head bobbing in a slow indulgent rhythm. Dew grinds up into his mouth, matches his movements, falling into an easy rhythm that Dew feels like he could ride out forever.

Aether’s free hand dips a little lower. Pets his balls through the tight fabric of his jeans and Dew whimpers. Broken. Desperate. He tries to push his hips into Aether’s hand, and mouth at the same time. It doesn’t work.

”Take em out. Please,” Dew gasps. And Aether reaches into Dew’s pants and frees his balls. Dew groans in relief when he does. He glances down again, just to see Aether roll them in his hand. When he pulls off of Dew’s cock and ducks down to suck one into his mouth, Dew has to look away. He’ll blow right here and now if he has to watch Aether do this. He closes his eyes–just for a second he swears.

“Lucifer, Aether. Your fucking mouth.”

“You wanna cum in it?”

Dew nods. Head tipping back against the headrest. “Yeah. Make me.”

“I will,” Aether promises. Tongue flicking out over the sensitive underside, Dew tries and fails to control the full body twitch it causes.

“Fuck.”

“How much further?”

Dew glances at his phone, propped up on the dash, and the gps app running on it. “Forty five minutes. Make me cum in five and I’ll give you a hand job.”

Aether hums, thoughtful. Dew knows that sound though–it’s the one Aether makes when he made up his mind a long time ago. Dew’s stomach lurches.

“Aeth–”

“Shh, let me savor this. You don’t want me to get bored, do you?”

Dew groans, low and wrecked when Aether takes him all again. He slips one hand off the wheel to lace his fingers in Aether’s hair–just to feel him.

“No,” Dew agrees, voice tense. “Wouldn’t want that. Take your time.”

Aether does. It’s a long drive after all.

[one-pissed-off-child]

vehicle headcanons bc im like. so bored

Lenore 100% rides a motorcycle, most likely a Harley or a Triumph. She enjoys a good street race, but only on remote roads that have been marked off and never spontaneously or on high ways. She used to do stunts with dirt bikes and atv's before her injury, but it plays hell with her hip now, so she just rides standard. She doesn't drive much, but if she had to get a car, it'd be a classic muscle car like a Firebird. She's an offensive driver insofar as she's more than willing to take a fender bender to prove a point and she will chase a bitch down if they run. Only if it's just her in the car, though. She mostly drives one-handed and rests her right hand on the console (or Annabel's thigh). She does enjoy cruising in a car but not as much as feeling Annabel hug her from behind on a bike

Annabel's ride would be Lenore a Cadillac, Porsche, and an Audi. She switches them out as the occasion calls for it. Her father bought all three. She trades them in for the lastest models every five years or earlier bc she couldn't be caught dead in a model that's gone out of style. People assume she likes being chauffeured around, but being in a vehicle she has no direct control of gives her hives, so 9 times out 10, she's going to be the one driving. The only people she trusts on the wheel are Prospero and Lenore. Very defensive driver bc she's always thinking 20 steps ahead and can smell bullshit from a mile away. She tells people she prefers convertibles for the visibility, but she really just likes watching Lenore hop over the door into the passenger seat.

Ada would sell her soul for a bright pink Porsche. Unfortunately, a brand new one is def out of her price range, and every time she buys a used one that she can afford, it craps out in like five months or so. She's forced to settle on a lightest burgundy Camry she can find at some point and she's bitching about it to everyone that can hear. She is the most godawful driver you will ever see. Road rage like no other. For years, she thought turn signals were a useless formality until a horrified Prospero told her otherwise. The fact that she has a license is the eighth wonder of the world (her tester was severely hungover). She keeps subtly asking to borrow Annabel's Porsche, but Anna just smiles and changes the subject.

Pluto has a crappy little Beetle that he stole from his dad, and to separate it from him would be to cut his heart out with a rusty butter knife. He's also a defensive driver but not in the same way Anna is. He's just very hyperaware of everything, which is great for snap reactions but can cause him to overreact sometimes. Does not play music or take his eyes off the road ever bc he's scared of getting distracted. Prefers taking mainroads bc high way speeds makes him nervous. He loves his car, but he'll typically just take the bus for short distances. The only time he's even marginally relaxed while driving is when his friends are with him, especially Eulalie.

Montessori has a Mustang, and he drives it like an asshole. I'm talking tailgating, cutting, muffler delete, zero turn signal whatsoever, always going at least twenty over, racing randoms on the highway etc etc. Rarely gets road rage, but causes it on a daily basis. One of his favorite plays is talking someone into a race, losing on purpose, betting money on a second race, and smoking their ass with his turbocharger. Yes, his car is kitted with every mod known to man, and yes, it does look like a douchebag owns it. He keeps trying to goad Lenore into a race, and she keeps rejecting him bc 1. She knows his schemes, and 2. She's not entirely convinced he won't try to run her over.

Eulalie prefers not to drive and doesn't own a car. It took forever to get her license bc she's so easily distracted that she's at risk of drifting into other lanes and/or hitting something. She did manage to get it eventually, but having to be constantly vigilant stresses her out, so she just bikes/skates (skateboarder Eulalie real) or uses public transit or grabs a ride from a friend. Despite everything, she's actually a very good and courteous driver when she's paying attention. She stops for pedestrians, bikers, ducks on the road, and so on. Her driving style is very smooth and steady in a way that could lull you to sleep. Until she has to slam the breaks to avoid sailing into oncoming traffic. She thinks it'd be really cool to own a Hearse with a black/purple color scheme, though. She shares a bus pass with Pluto

(Pt.2 cuz this got too long)

[fadedncity]

wc: 1.8k (teaser)

pairing: mark x fem!reader

cw: street racing au, childhood friends to lovers, mentions of other idols; (full fic) tags: smut, lil angst, alcohol consumption, use of marijuana, teasing, fingering, semi public sex, marking, oral sex (giving/receiving), dirty talk, pet names, praising, multiple orgasms, more to come…

a/n: everyone thank ay-yo mark for finally getting me out of my writers block 😁 p.s. i don’t know shit about cars and only have knowledge based off the fast and furious movies so apologies 😭

FULL FIC OUT NOW

[9:16 PM] FRIDAY

"Come on. The cops are gonna bust it before we even get there!" Summer stomped her heels like a whiny child.

"You know these things never start on time, we will be fine," you said, coming down the stairs.

"You could always go ahead of us and we'll meet you there," Nyla said, checking herself in the mirror, "Oh wait, you can't drive," she deadpanned.

"Only temporarily," Summer rolled her eyes.

"Only until your suspension is lifted," you reminded.

"One of you could let me borrow a car. It's only an issue if I get caught." Summer says matter of factly, like either of you would agree with her.

"That is the issue, sweetie, you did get caught." Nyla pats Summer's cheek.

Summer crossed her arms, again acting like a moody toddler.

"Let's go," you grabbed your keys off the table, "Thought you didn't wanna be late." You said to Summer, heading out the door.

With an annoyed huff, Summer gathered her things and followed you and Nyla out the door.

The three of you got into your car, the gentle purr of the engine coming to life once you put the key in the ignition, sending vibrations through the entire vehicle. Music filtered through the speakers as you pulled out of your spot and took off down the street.

"Hyuck said to make sure you turn your lights off when you're coming up," Summer relayed a message she received from Haechan once you were halfway there.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," you waved off.

You turned off your headlights once you neared the exit, moving offroad. You carefully drove into the woods on unpaved ground, heading deeper into the darkness as the distant streetlights weren't doing anything to assist your sight anymore. 

"I always hate this part," Nyla says from the passenger seat.

"Gotta make sure we don't get caught if any cops are hiding around here." You said.

"I know, but it always feels like the beginning of a horror movie. And you know the hot ones always die first," Nyla pouted.

You found the opening in the fence, worn down from being driven over so many times, and pulled into the abandoned army base, finally able to cut your lights back on.

The sound of music playing and tires screeching on the pavement could already be heard from the runway the meet was on, and you were still a few hangars away.

You slow down once you reach the crowd taking over the runway. People move out of the way as you cruise down the road, looking for a spot to park.

"Ain't that Johnny over there," Summer pointed from the backseat.

"I'd recognize that giant beanstalk anywhere," you say before honking your horn, startling the Aquarius and getting his attention.

"Wow, the princess, actually graces us with her presence on this lovely night," Johnny curtsies, and you scoff.

"Just move out the way before I run your ass over." you tell him.

You backed your car into the spot next to Johnny, and your friends practically jumped out of the vehicle before you could put it in park. You hadn't even closed your door when Johnny embraced you in a tight hug. 

"Jesus, John, gonna crack a rib," you gasp.

"Feels like we don't see you at these things anymore," He let you go.

"Come on, it hasn't been that long. I was here a few weeks ago."

"For like 20 minutes. You left before you could even see me smoke Jungwoo," he crossed his arms over his chest.

You remember that night. You had totally forgotten the assignment you had due at 11:59 and raced back home to turn it in on time.

"Shit. That's my bad. You know it's just stuff with the garage and school and…stuff," you trail off.

"Yeah, I get it," Johnny slung his arm around you, "You're doing good though, kiddo," you both started trailing behind Nyla and Summer.

"How do you figure?"

"Made it further than me. I had already dropped out by this point," Johnny said, sharing a laugh.

The music came from every direction with people displaying their boosted sound systems out of their trunks. The ones not focusing on the races were too busy gawking at the expensive modifications under the hoods of those showing them off.

"Last chance. Winner take all," you instantly recognize Chenle's voice over the rest of the clamor.

You watch Summer reach into her bag, giving Chenle an indescribable amount, looking proud of herself.

"Who're you betting on?" Johnny asks her. 

"Yeri, duh," she answered. 

"You sure that was a good choice?" he asks, teasingly.

"Obviously. Hyuck ain't got shit on her." 

"Yeah, alright," Johnny rolled his eyes, taking a bit of offense himself.

"Where is Haechan, by the way? He's up next," Jeno asks.

"Over there talking to Jaemin," Chenle nodded to the opposite side of the runway where Jaemin's car was parked.

You spotted the back of Haechan's head speaking to Jaemin through the window of his car, probably checking the police scanner and making sure you're all still in the clear, no doubt. Then your eyes land on the guy standing next to him, recognizing his silhouette.

"Oh my god, is that-" Summer starts.

"Mark Lee?" you will your vision to focus from this distance to see clearer. "Mark's back in town and no one said anything?" you hit Johnny's arm.

"You would know if you were here." Chenle shrugged.

"I'm sorry, who is Mark?" Nyla asks.

Everyone turned and looked at Nyla.

"Mark Lee? How do you not know Mark?" Summer says, showing Nyla his Instagram.

"How did you pull that up so fast?" Renjun asks.

"Holy shit, he's good," Nyla says impressed, and you already know Summer pulled up one of the videos of him racing.

"Better be. I taught him." Johnny smiles like a proud father. "We all go way back," he says, "Ain't that right?" Johnny nudges your arm.

Way back. 

Way back when you used to spend hours at the garage with your father after school and only knew Johnny as your father's best and favorite (unconfirmed) employee. And Mark was some boy from your high school that you didn't even know until you went to your first car meet.

Way back doesn't even feel that far away anymore now seeing him. It almost feels exactly like the first car meet you snuck out to. When you first met him.

"If your father knew you were here, he would lose his shit. If he found out I let you drive he would have my head. You are not getting into any car—getting behind any wheel tonight under any circumstances. Do you understand?" Johnny said. 

"But-" 

"Aht, I mean it," he said, shooting you down before changing the subject, "You know Mark, right?" he asked. 

"No, I don't know Mark." 

"Well, this is Mark," Johnny said, yanking the boy out of a conversation to introduce the both of you. "You mind keeping each other company, and make sure she stays out of..everything," Johnny not so quietly muttered to Mark. "I'm up next, so be good while I'm gone," Johnny patted your head before he hopped in his car, leaving the two of you alone. 

"I can't image he's much less of a jackass at work." Mark said. 

"He definitely isn't. I don't think it's something he can turn off," you laughed before you looked over at him, "How'd you know I'm from the garage?" you asked. 

"Johnny said you might be here tonight. He talks about you all the time, like a little sister he's never had," Mark tells you. 

"Oh really? What else has he said?" 

"You're one hell of a driver."

"Come on, it's starting," Summer pulling on your arm, tore you out of your thoughts, and you realize Mark's no longer in your sight, having lost him in the crowd.

People gather on either side of the runway, cheering as Haechan's electric blue Supra pulled up next to Yeri's lavender-wrapped GT-R, stopping right before the spray-paint on the pavement that served as the starting and finish line.

Chenle stood between both cars, looking at Haechan and Yeri. He raised his arms, both drivers reviving up their cars, Haechan burning out his tires, kicking up smoke behind his car before Chenle dropped his arms, and they both sped off past him down the road.

Through all the commotion, you spotted Mark again. And before you could even think about it you were already weaving your way through the crowd to get to him.

"So you thought you could just come back to town and not say anything to anybody?" you say, getting his attention.

Mark's eyes light up, no longer concerned with the race upon seeing you.

"I just got in yesterday but heard you were gonna be here tonight. So I thought I'd surprise you."

"Consider me surprised."

You take the time to notice everything about him, the things that have changed and the things that haven't. Like his hair, no longer dark with the typical schoolboy cut. It's now grown out and blonde—that was as much as you could tell from the beanie it was all tucked underneath. But nothing about his face is much different than how you remember it. Still the same soft eyes you can get yourself lost in and the sweet smile that used to bring one to your face.

"So who's your money on?" Mark asks you.

"You know I'm not throwing anything unless I really got something to lose," you say, "But if I did put my money on one of them, it would definitely be Yeri. She's winning this."

"Yeah, she's a good driver but don't you know what Haechan has under his hood?"

"Yeah, but it's no match for what's under Yeri's. And I would know. I put it all together myself," you smiled proudly.

You heard the cars approaching, closing in on the finishing line. From this distance, it's hard to tell who's winning, but you aren't as eager as the rest of the crowd cheering on either side to see who would make it to the end first.

The cars blurred past you, wind whipping behind them, blowing your hair out of place a bit as you turned to Mark.

"Now would you look at that," you smiled as Yeri was announced as the winner, "I know it's been a while Mark, but the last thing you should forget is that I'm always right."

"Trust, there isn't anything about you I could forget," Mark says.

a/n: i’m currently already at 7k but just wanted to know how y’all feel about this so ik whether i should keep going or not so pls lmk! feedback is appreciated <33

edit: currently at 11k and still haven’t gotten to the smut yet…y’all pray for me

[siribaes]

crusin’

han lue x (oc) [ black!fem! ]

a late night, open road, passenger side driving around los angeles with her favorite guy.

contents: fluff. some angst. smutty thoughts. brief smoking cigarette mention. brief mention of death. rival gang dynamics. mild peril han drives fast ofc <3. nothing too major.

suggested tunes📻: protect my heart by kelis, it’s whatever by aaliyah, luxurious by gwen stefani, run to the sun by n.e.r.d., boogie 2nite by tweet, try again by aaliyah

author’s note: just a little somethin’ featuring my number one guy han <3. this was heavily inspired by romeo must die, i loved jet and aaliyah’s dynamic & this takes place after better luck tomorrow and before fast and furious/tokyo drift. y’all lmk if i should make this into a fic…🤔 / not edited or proofread

. . . ZOOOOM!

an electric blue, 1995 mazda widebody fd rx7 flys down the street. driving through lights, regardless of the color change. the wind brushes against chickie’s cheeks as the car veered left. she stretches her arm out the window, she hummed. the air is a bit chilly but it feels good against her skin. the mazda slowed down at a red light.

“i thought you said you wanted to cruise. it feels like you’re racin’,” chickie murmurs pulling her arm back inside. she turned toward the driver’s side.

he glances at her, his lips forming into a lopsided grin. “was cooped up, haven’t been behind the wheel all day, let me flex,”

flex he did.

chickie’s heart fluttered watching his skillful hands maneuver the gear shift with ease. his nimble fingers tap on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the music. a part of her mind wonders how his hand would fit into hers or how the rough callous on his palms would feel against her skin.

“can we stop at the store? i want some snacks,” chickie spoke aloud. she focused her eyes on the road and away from from his hands.

“it’s one up ahead,” with one hand, he effortlessly maneuvers the wheel, his palm gently guiding it as the car turns at a right corner.

so smooth.

the madza slowly pulls into a spot across from a brightly, colored convenience store. chickie unbuckles her seat belt.

“you want anything?”

“nah, i’ll just share with you,” chickie playfully rolls her eyes. she steps out of the car and heads straight into the store.

chickie comes out minutes later with a boat load of snacks and drinks. already, half way done with her snickers, she almost chokes, from she sees. her friend, her favorite guy.

han leans against the car, his body, totally relaxed like he doesn’t have a care in the world. a cigarette hangs from his full lips, as han rakes a hand though his inky, black tresses. the street is quiet as the plastic bag swishes back and forth. with every step, chickie feels like her heart is gonna leap out of her throat.

she can’t really pin-point when it happened or how it happened but it just did. it was like chickie went to bed one way and woke up another. every little thing han lue did set her a flame, even simple things like tonight, calling her up at 1:00 AM asking if she wanted to go for a ride. she all but leapt out of her bed room window when heard the engine of the madza coming down the street.

as exhilarating as her crush on han was she knew that it wouldn’t go anywhere. he was her best friend and on top of that the growing rivalry between his crew and her cousins, both vying for control over parts of south-east la, didn’t add much to the equation. in fact it subtracted from it. so chickie just settled for her mushy, unrequited feelings and distracted herself with other things. this time, nitpicking han’s smoking habits.

“i thought you were quitting,” chickie hoists herself on the hood of han’s car. she digs into the bag, pulling out soda and a pack of twinkies.

a week prior, han told chickie that he was going to quit, cold turkey. that and some other ramblings of needing to get out of “this place”. over the course of their friendship, chickie can tell when han is tired or sleep deprived. typically a man of few words, he becomes talkative and super rambly when exhausted. there was a small part of that was happy han was quitting, but she should’ve known better, old habits die hard.

han takes a long pull. he blows the smoke away from chickie’s direction. “i am. haven’t had a cig in three days,”

“but you said you went cold turkey,” chickie takes a bite of her twinkie.

“listen,” han leans towards chickie, “i’ll go cold turkey when you tell y’re pops about your new jewelry,” he reached towards her stomach and lightly flicked her belly button piercing.

chickie squatted his hand away. “boy, please another piercing isn’t gonna hurt anyone. my body, my choice. besides, cigarettes aren’t good for you,”

han chuckles. he takes another pull, blowing the smoke up towards the sky. he shrugged. “does it matter? health isn’t my priority. especially the way i’m livin’,”

chickie frowns. “i don’t like when you talk like that,”

han take another pull, longer than the previous. the cigarette is a nothing but a stubby bud now. he flicks it away. slowly, he turns and faces her.

“you worry about me too much,”

“i feel like i don’t worry enough,” chickie said quietly. she avoids his eyes, keeping them toward the lights of the convenience store.

“you hoggin’ all the snacks,” before chickie could respond, han pulls her hand towards him. a prickly, chill runs down her spine. The roughness of han’s callouses feel good against her skin. frozen in place, chickie watches han lean down and bite the twinkie in her hand.

she feels everything.

the slight, soft-wetness of han’s mouth on her skin. his nimble tongue as it gently slides and swirls around the tips of chickie’s fingers. her works in over time, completely thudding against her chest, as han pulls away from her. for second, chickie sees a certain glint in the deep, brown pools of his eyes.

he chews. han smirks at her.

“there’s a race on saturday. you should come,” han says, leaning back, casually.

chickie took a sip of her soda. hoping for the coolness of the drink to cool her down. she takes another sip and thinks, if he could do that, so could i.

“i dunno,” chickie trails. she innocently, fiddled with her bracelet, playing with the race-car charm, the same one han got her a year ago, in honor of the mutual love for cars. she looks at him, batting her eyelashes, subtly, “i might be, busy,”

han’s eye brow rose. “busy?”

“yeah, i might have plans, or something,”

“what, like a date?” chickie notices a slight change in han’s demeanor. his jaw tightens, emphasizing the angles of his cheekbones.

chickie attempts to channel her best han impression, shrugging her shoulders in the most nonchalant way. han grows quiet, slowly nodding his head. he leans off the car and positions himself in front of her. in quick movements, han pulls chickie close. fingers flutter across her exposed stomach.

han tickles her.

“han! stop, please! o-okay, okay, okay! i’ll come, i can’t breathe,” chickie squeals, attempting to push han away from her.

“say you’ll come,” han somehow managed to snake a hand to the back of chickie’s neck. he gently holds her in place, while he continues to tickle her.

“ooo-okay! i will come, please,” han eases off of her. he watched as chickie caught her breath. she shoves han’s shoulder, “asshole,”

they laugh.

“seriously though,” han rolls his shoulder, keeping his gaze on chickie, “i need you there. i wanna see my favorite girl,”

chickie smiles, gently. the flames of her unrequited crush roaring back inside of her. han loops an arm around chickie’s shoulder, she leans her head against him. savoring this moment, allowing herself a little leeway to dream about what could’ve been.

[gretavanlace]

Crime and Punishment

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, language, dirty talk, denial, dom/sub, anger, pet names, illusions to impact play, impact play (mild), masturbation, etc

Just a little something to tide my lovelies over. Thank you so much to my anon who asked for a quieter dom jake (I can’t find your ask, but I love you)❤️

“Jake?” You venture carefully from your seat beside him as he stares ahead, navigating the twists and turns of hills and back roads, wipers keeping time through the rain. “You seem upset. Are you alright?”

You know he isn’t alright. You fucking know. Worked toward it all evening, bratting this way and that. Mouthing off. Causing trouble. Flirting with Danny. Let’s be honest, flirting with Sammy, as well…innocently. Flirting with Josh, not so innocently.

You drank a little too much, danced a little too close, spoke a little too softly in an ear or two - and all while he quietly watched. All while he silently drank in your display, swallowing it down for safe, darkened, keeping.

“M’fine, magpie.” He offers with a gentle shrug “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Okay, so maybe he isn’t as angry as you’d feared, hoped? He’s still allowing your nickname, bestowed because he says you sing so pretty when you cum for him, to trip off of his delectable tongue. Perhaps his upset doesn’t run quite as deeply as you believed.

“You’re not angry with me?”

“Why would I be angry with you?” His jaw tightens, betraying him. Liar.

“Dunno.” You shrug right back, if he’s going to play it this way, so will you. Beginning to dig around in your purse, at last, you locate your lighter and cigarettes, flickering one to life with a deep, drunken drag.

Immediately, he rips it from your lips and flips it out the crack in his window, with a clipped, “You haven’t earned it.”

He knows you enjoy the most occasional smoke when you’re floating through a buzz, and this proves what you already knew - his placid demeanor is bullshit.

You clip your bag closed with a sly smile and sidle up a little closer, “Oh, so Jakey is feeling angry? Are you mad at your girl?”

With a firm hand, he pushes you back in your seat, and shakes his head, “Stop talking. Now. Don’t make me say it twice.”

Something in his tone tells you to listen…his warning sounds like it's riding out on broken glass, and his palm, flattened out on your chest, heavy like a paperweight, tells you to find your place, and find it fast.

The galvanic hiss of his energy pops and sparks into the night as you cruise closer to home, but that isn’t what knots your stomach into bends and hitches - his silence is what does that.

Normally, he’d be taunting you. Promising fire and brimstone, forewarning forthcoming doom, sounding the alarms in your head…if only to make your heart and your clit pound.

He prizes it - this ability of his to so easily make you sweat and ache…loves it all the more when it’s an impending punishment he can lord over your pretty head. That’s what you’d been aiming at all night - his wrath…but this, this quiet? Unsettling.

“Jacob Thomas…” you’ve tried on your sweetest tone, allowing a pout to color his full name in the way that never fails to make his cock twitch. Like a game of hide and seek. Come out, come out wherever you are.

“Shut. Up.” His knuckles turn white on the steering wheel and you do, in fact, choose to listen and shut up.

Gravel crunching beneath the tires signals your homecoming, jarring you out of your foggy reverie. What will happen now? You’d be dishonest if you said you weren’t positively fucking alive with racing thoughts of carnal possibilities. You’d also be dishonest if you said you weren’t a tad apprehensive…something in his manner is off. Have you pushed too far this time? Are you really in for it? Do you like the idea of roaring along his furious rapids without a paddle? Paddle. Now there’s an idea.

A caul of tense silence crawls over the car as he breathes heavily and deeply beside you. Finally, his clipped instructions break the spell.

“You are to go inside and wait at the foot of the bed. Naked. On your knees. Hair braided and clipped.”

You shiver at his ragged directive, he sounds like sex, and you can smell the lust seeping from his pores— masked almost entirely by his fury, but there all the same.

Turning to him to beg for just one touch is so tempting you can almost taste the words on your palate, but wisely, you settle on obedience, and squeak open the door before hustling it into the house.

If you had eyes in the back of your head you might have caught the faint smile that curls his pillowy lips as he watches you fumble to fit the key in the lock with shaking hands. You’re nervous, he decides. Good.

He finds you, kneeling and bare - fucking gorgeous. Your hair is woven and swept up, just as instructed. It earns you points, but certainly not enough to matter, and you seem to sense that as you watch him calmly prowl about the bedroom.

His jacket comes off first, shaken from his shoulders in the stillness, only to be rested carefully over the back of his chair. He loves this chair, sits in its overstuffed embrace and plucks at his guitar for hours. But tonight, he has other tasks to complete.

He rids himself of his barely buttoned shirt and lets it fall to the floor, forgotten…and then swaggers over to the dresser, carefully removing his necklaces and nestling them into the velvet case that houses his trinkets.

Boots, having seen better days just the way he likes them, are next. Kicked off and cast aside next to the closet door.

And all the while it’s quiet, quiet, quiet. Normally, he’d be scolding you, issuing soft admonishments that still somehow thunder in your heart as though he’s shouted them. Normally he’s bossy, and mouthy, and sexy as hell about it. Tonight? Silence.

Still, you wait - knelt, submissive, unresisting and docile. Patiently and quietly subservient as your nipples harden into aching peaks, desperate for even a flick of his gaze.

Without blessing you the glance you’re so longing for, he disappears into the closet, only to return with his black leather guitar case. You know this case, you know what it houses, and it isn’t a musical instrument. Though, he does coax lovely sounds out of you with the arsenal hidden inside.

At last, his voice comes, hushed and conversational, as he carefully places the case on the bed and flips the latches. “I shouldn’t, because you’ve been a dreadful handful tonight, but I’m feeling generous, so I will. You may pick your poison this evening, magpie.”

With precision, he chooses his arrows and lines them up along the duvet. Paddle, flogger, crop, switch, length of leather he braided and knotted with his own hands, and cane. You fear the cane most of all…the way it slices through the air audibly; a woeful song just before the pain explodes and sizzles through your system. Still, your eyes linger there once he’s given you permission to turn and look. Maybe you want that tonight.

Though he doesn’t tip his hand, Jake knows exactly what you need. He can sense all of that shameful desire swimming through your veins. He understands that you live in your head a little too deeply now and then. His grasp on your psyche, uncanny. You need this sometimes, this complete submission…his hands offering sacrament with each blow. His words washing you clean in their dominance, their degradation, their praise. He needs it too, to give you these things that might make another shudder and turn away.

He craves the way you blink up at him, eyes blurred with tears, lips swollen and dripping in sobs and breaths of reverence. The way your body yields to his touch, trembling with pleasure tinged in delicious, trustful fear. He is weak for the way you allow him to worship you this way…an outsider might see the opposite, might believe it is you who worships from your place at his feet, they would be terribly mistaken. It is he who prays.

Perhaps it has been a little too long, so you chose to act up in order to force his hand. Perhaps that is his fault. Perhaps. But you will never know it.

“Your behavior was uncalled for tonight.” He sighs, fingers skating across his toys while you contemplate. “For it, I should cane you until you can’t breathe. But, I’m feeling kind. What do we say?”

His fingers have begun to stroke through your bangs. “We say thank you.” You hush with a shiver, “Thank you for your mercy, sir.”

He nods, and then squares his shoulders, impatience edging at him. “Choose, or I will. You don’t want that.”

When your touch lands on the cane, he hides his shock well and bends until his delicious mouth rests against your ear. “Magpie wants my cane? Aren’t you just the prettiest glutton for punishment that I’ve ever seen?”

“Make it hurt.” You’re shaking with depraved anticipation, and he wants to huff a laugh - his lovely little masochist - instead, he tucks the cane away, confusing you.

“Well, darling,” he dips down and places the softest feather of a kiss upon the nape of your neck. “If you want it, that’s not much of a punishment at all, now is it?”

He has decided that, in honor of your wanton little show with his brothers, he will wield his authority in a different manner tonight. You will suffer, but not in the way you might have hoped.

Straightening, he takes your chin loosely in his grasp and tilts your face upwards until he is looking down the bridge of his nose at you. “On the bed, magpie. Right on the edge, legs spread wide open for me. I’d like to look at your pretty cunt.”

Without waiting to watch you comply, he turns and makes his way back to the chair he loves so well, and takes a seat casually. By the time he has settled in, you’re perched on display for him.

“So gorgeous, little bird.” He hums softly, popping the button of his pants. The parting of his zipper causes your entire body to jolt in hunger. “Look at that pretty fucking pussy. You’re so wet I can almost smell you.”

His hand dips behind linen and tugs his cock free. So hard and beautiful. Swollen tip leaking pearlescent drops of arousal that you long to lick away.

“Jake,” you whine, body rocking against nothing so subtly, you don’t even realize it’s happening.

“I told you to shut up.” He snaps, wrapping his fist around himself with a slow, easy tug.

“Yes, sir.” You breathe. A little groveling never hurt anyone.

“You will take what you’re given tonight, and you will thank me for it.” He’s stroking himself with intent now, and you couldn’t look away if you tried. You just want him so fucking badly. “And I so love to spoil you, don’t I?”

“Yes, sir.” You repeat, hushed, and fighting to keep your hand from dipping between your legs.

“And now you’ve ruined that for me, which wasn’t very nice.” He clicks his tongue. “My mean, filthy, little magpie owes me an apology, does she not?”

“I’m sorry.” You sound pathetic, and that’s fine for the both of you. “I just wanted—“

“I know what you wanted.” He interrupts, words rasped as he jerks his cock off just a bit faster. “I didn’t ask for your fucking explanations. Let me see that lovely little clit, I miss her.”

Reaching down, you spread yourself open without thought or hesitation. What Jake wants, Jake gets. Funnily enough, however, he feels the same about you…usually.

“There she is…” you watch his fist tighten around his length…god, you want it so badly it’s nearly difficult to think. Your thoughts, scattered and blurred with want. “Look how pretty and pink. And swollen, too.” He tilts his head sorrowfully. “Such a shame. I could so easily take care of her…if you hadn’t acted like such a whore tonight. And for what?”

“You know why.” You huff, growing slightly insufferable with desire.

“Watch that fucking tone or I’ll spread you out, tie you down, and correct you until the sun comes up.” His warning drives out harshly from between clenched teeth.

He watches the insubordination silently leech from your bones. “That’s a good girl. Can you feel it, baby? My tongue on your clit? Warm and wet, licking and sucking you until your cum is dripping down my chin? Hmm? Can you feel that?”

And fuck if you can’t. You’re conjuring the feeling of his mouth working away at you sinfully, the sounds he makes, groans and hums of bliss that muffle into your soaked flesh. They crowd your mind until it is fat full with Jacob and only Jacob.

“I’d love to taste you, magpie.” He sighs, fucking his fist faster still. “I’d love to crawl over there and bury my face between your thighs. Love to slip my tongue way up inside until my nose is buried against you. Until I can’t fucking breathe.”

“Please.” Is the only word you can manage, and even that comes out weak and warbling.

“Tough love, little bird.” He taunts. Tough love. And it’s only because I care…I don’t want to see you go completely off the rails, I’ve gotta keep you in line, don’t I?”

Your body twitches and writhes and shakes all on its own…you’ve lost control of your muscles. Your veins are searing with fiery need, nerve endings buzzing and sparking like downed power lines. Mouth open and panting like a cornered animal in need of something it can’t quite identify. You want to claw at your body until you can climb out of yourself; until you can discard your own skin like an itchy sweater in a room that’s just a little too warm.

But even if all that were possible, none of it would help, you know as fact, only Jake can soothe you now. Only Jake.

Suddenly, he rises, kicking his pants off along the way as he moves closer to you, closing in on your trembling frame like a gleeful predator.

His body, bare and stunning, glows ghostly in the shadowy moonlight that streams through the curtains. You can smell him now, spiced and soaked in something earthly…like perfumed soil, rich and damp, sifting through your fingers.

“You stay where you are.” His voice purrs out, like silk curling against your cheek.

He reaches behind you and takes up the small switch. Black and spindly, it could almost pass for a wand, fittingly - for his is nothing short of magic.

“I’d like to look at your cunt right up close while I’m cumming.” he whispers, dropping to his knees. “Hello little beauty,” his breath falls against you, though his words aren’t spoken for your ears. “How’s my sweetness?”

His eyes cast up to yours, “Such a beautiful pussy, magpie. Especially right now. Wet and swollen, pink and velvet soft…what I wouldn’t give to fill her all the way up. Pity.”

His arm begins a rhythmic pump against your calf as he lavishes his devouring gaze between your legs, hushing words of praise meant only for your cunt. Murmurs of, pretty soaked pussy, tight little baby, needs spoiled so badly, curses, groans of pleasure and denial that fall hot between your legs.

When your hands give in and reach to bury in his hair, your thigh is met with a harsh crack of the switch, wordlessly putting you in your place. No touching, that sting barks, and you heed the warning.

His frantic gasps and groans grow louder until, as if he can’t help himself, the flat of his tongue laps slowly and heavily from your slick entrance to your clit…the growl that follows is feral and ravenous for more, but he is nothing if not self-disciplined.

“Needed the taste of you on my tongue,” he’s panting now, jerking his cock hard and fast, and then his mouth is resting upon you, lips and cheek pressed right up against your dripping center as you thrust lightly into him, feverish for even a breath of friction.

He cums hard, shoving in closer and digging into your thigh with his hand that still clutches the switch. Crying out as he grabs and pulls at you, nuzzling into your cunt as he spills all over the floor between his knees and your feet, a chorus of his own gasps and obscenities the soundtrack to his release.

Once he’s regained some semblance of composure, he’s on you. Darting up from his place before you to grab you by the throat, decadent cum still dripping from his knuckles and onto your collarbone. He smears it into your flesh like heavenly oil, anointing you.

“You will wear me tonight and remember who you belong to, and you will fucking thank me for it.” He rasps, crawling over you, guiding you along beneath him until your head meets the pillow.

“Yes.” You nod, wide-eyed and grateful. “Yes. Thank you, sir. I’ll wear you forever. Cover me in you every minute of every day. Please, I want it, always.”

Down his hand slips, weaving a winding, serpentine trail of his release to mark his path, then he finds his spot beside you…pulling you in against him until his softening cock is nestled into the curve of your spine.

He will take care of you in the morning, you know without question…but tonight, this is your punishment, and you are more than willing to take it.

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