#she got a license before she learned how to drive

[azizefan]

Rüya + Yaman (Yabani)  episode 1X1

[jettlawrence]

.

[petitesmafia]

hc thinking about Chuuya being that nonchalant friend who never really talks about if he's having a hard time or if he just went through some rough shit so whenever Shirase calls to catch up he's just baffled as hell

Shirase: so i ordered a large fried rice and the delivery guy brought me a MEDIUM Chuuya: that's unacceptable Shirase: i know right? btw bro ur eye bags are looking a lil dark Chuuya: yeah busy day yesterday. a dragon attacked the city so i had to handle that Shirase: Shirase: excuse me? Chuuya: so did they refund u the difference for the rice Shirase: no no no. PAUSE go back wdym DRAGON? Chuuya: there was a dragon. i got called in and i also owed the guy so i just handled it. it's fine i just need some sleep. btw u should stop eating so much takeout and just learn to cook Shirase: what goes on

Shirase: kinda annoyed today like the bus was 20min late. i should really get a car Chuuya: do u even have ur license Shirase : that's not important rn. do u have any recs since ur car's nice Chuuya: i guess it was nice Shirase: wdym "was"? did u upgrade Chuuya: no it blew up Shirase: what Chuuya: it's gone Shirase: HOW did BLOW UP???? Chuuya: no idea. but seriously u should look into getting a license before driving around bc what are u gonna do if u get caught

Shirase: lemme tell u the craziest thing happened yesterday. bumped into this girl at a cafe and we got to talking and guess what? she knows yuan! Chuuya: really? Shirase: yeah i wanted to tell u yesterday but u didn't call me back Chuuya: sorry i got trapped in some guy's book Shirase: Shirase: huh Chuuya: it was some mystery novel with a bunch of killers. i just fought everybody to get out so it's chill Shirase: what are u talking about Chuuya: enough about me tho. so how's yuan doing

basically it’s always Shirase just asking why Chuuya didn’t tell him about these crazy events and Chuuya’s just like “I don’t like making a big deal out of things. I don’t think it’s that serious” and Shirase is like YES IT IS???

[swingingthehatchetnow]

Pete always averted his eyes around the homeless man downtown. Whether it was because he got awkward around social interaction or felt unwarranted guilt about the man’s situation, he’d never managed to look the man in the eyes before. He couldn’t describe his face if he tried.

That changed after Jägerman.

The things that used to be uncomfortable really weren’t anymore. After holding court with the Void, a man on the street really doesn’t seem all that intimidating. Ruth and Richie would’ve made fun of him if he was scared of the little things after the whole ordeal, he knew. It helped him to imagine their reactions. Coping and whatnot.

His walk home was lonelier. As were his study sessions and social life. But the walks home were when he really felt their loss. Even though Pete and Ruth lived in the opposite direction, they’d walk with Richie to his place, and then cut through downtown to get back to the other side of town, where he and Ruth would part ways near the Coldstone, both going to their respective homes.

He still followed that route. Coping. And whatnot.

It was just after noon. Pete had his AP statistics final in the morning, and had no class in the afternoon, because his teachers were proctoring other exams around the school. So here he was. Peter Spankoffski, walking through downtown Hatchetfield, alone. Steph had a full school day, so he wouldn’t see her until later.

“Excuse me, do you have a minute to talk about saving our planet?”

He turned. The Green Peace girl was at it again, with a wide smile and a clipboard in hand.

“It’ll only take a minute of your time,” she continued, now holding out a brochure. Trying to reduce the amount of time he had to talk to her, he took it wordlessly.

“I, um—” his voice cracked, and his face flushed red. Nobody else his age was still having voice cracks. He cleared his throat. “I’ll take a look at it. Saving the world and all.”

Not like he hadn’t done that once already.

The Green Peace girl smiled even wider, and did a little bouncey turn on her heel. The way she bobbed off reminded Pete of Steph when she was in a particularly happy mood. This thought relaxed him a bit.

He tucked the brochure into his pocket and continued walking, though he didn’t get far before he was cut off by someone else.

“Spare change for the homeless?”

Of course he knew that voice. Anyone who spent more than five minutes downtown knew about the homeless man.

Before he even looked at the man in front of him, Pete reached for his wallet. He’d just gotten a bonus at work, so he figured he had a few dollars to spare. Besides, his movie theater job paid surprisingly well.

He grabbed a $5 bill and turned to the man.

“Here you—”

He knew that face.

Older, sure, and a little lost-looking, but there was no doubt about it. Pete was looking at…

“Teddy?”

The 20 year age gap between the Spankoffski boys left them with an interesting dynamic. It was hard to feel like brothers sometimes when one of them was coming home from kindergarten while the other was getting a full time job at CCRP.

But they had their moments. When Pete was learning how to drive, Ted would let him use his car, even though he hadn’t gotten his license yet, or the night before freshman year, when Ted gave Pete his ‘Spankoffski guide to charming the ladies’ guidebook.

Hand trembling, holding out the $5 bill, Pete looked into the cloudy eyes of his older brother. His older older brother.

Somehow, some way… Ted was standing in front of Pete, a shadow of his former self.

“That’s way cool, man,” he said, taking the $5 from Pete. No sense of recollection could be seen.

“Ted, what happened to you…?” Pete watched Ted pocket the money. And then Ted… walked off. Just like that.

“Ted, wait!” Pete called after him, but Ted didn’t turn around. He simply tugged his hat down over his ears and walked off.

With trembling hands, Pete reached for his phone. He spent no more than 3 seconds looking for his brother’s contact info and hitting the call button.

One ring.

Two.

Three.

Four…

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

Pete sighed in relief at the sound of his brother’s voice on the other end of the line.

“No,” he said, “my AP exam was today. Ted, I—” he paused, realizing he had no idea what he was going to say. How do you ask someone if they know that they’re the homeless man from downtown.

He lost his nerve.

“…I was just wondering if you want to hang out later. I— I got a new game, and—”

“Yeah, sure whatever. I get off work at the usual time.” A sound came from Ted’s end of the line, fabric shifting, like he’d adjusted how he was sitting. “Is that all? Because I was about to pull the ol’ Spankoffski charm on this barista that Paul is trying to snag.”

The familiarity of the conversation was enough to ease Pete’s worries. Sure, he’d held court with the Void, lost his two best friends, nearly got shot executioner-style, and ran into what he was certain was some version of his brother in the streets… but all that didn’t matter because somewhere in downtown Hatchetfield, Ted Spankoffski was fine. And so was Pete.

“I don’t say it a lot, but I’m glad you’re my brother, Teddy.”

“Sorry, I was talking to Charlotte. Did you say something?”

Pete smiled and hung up.

Maybe the universe was bigger than he knew and could ever understand.

So what.

[gainahan]

naruto driving headcanons

Naruto - definitely not licensed. debatable whether he actually knows which one is the brake pedal. as long as Sakura is alive he will not be allowed behind the wheel of a car. unknowable/10

Sasuke - also not technically licensed, but all things considered a pretty decent driver. probably started driving well before he was legally old enough to. 7.5/10

Sakura - road rage extraordinaire. swears up and down she goes the speed limit but in truth goes at minimum 10 over. “speed limit is a suggestion” more like speed limit is a challenge. at the very least she gets them where they need to go. 5.5/10

Sai - never learned to drive until he met team 7. between Naruto and Sakura’s influences, he won’t be getting licensed for at least the next 6 years. good luck/10

Shikamaru - truly cannot be arsed. if asked to drive he claims to not have a license, but he definitely does. another unknowable/10 but I like to think in a pinch he’d be pretty good at it.

Choji - reliable driver but has a tendency to be late. gets stressed out when he has more than a few passengers. 6/10

Ino - wants to be a passenger princess soo badly. unfortunately for her, she’s the best on her team. being good at driving is her curse. woefully, 10/10

Kiba - team 8’s designated driver, believe it or not. he is…not good at it, per se, but better than the rest of them. having two sets of eyes on the road tends to help. 6.5/10

Hinata - gets so stressed out she forgets how to brake. she’ll be white knuckling the wheel going 50 in a residential while her passengers pray for their lives in the backseat. -2/10 her dad’s insurance is through the roof

Shino - morally opposed to driving. he hasn’t confirmed why but the running theory is that a swarm of his bugs faceplanted into the windshield once and traumatized him. unknowable/10

Neji - doesn’t believe in right-of-way. refuses to use his mirrors. whole heartedly believes he is god’s gift to the interstate. by some miracle has never gotten into a crash, but if any of his passengers are sensible people he is banned from the wheel. 0/10

Tenten - makes Sakura’s road rage look like divinely inspired patience. honestly she’s not even mad she just enjoys it. has to be actively talked down from brake checking people. banned from the wheel 0/10

Lee - while technically a perfect driver (obeys every speed limit, never makes an illegal turn, maneuvers like butter), having him in the front seat is such an intolerable experience he’s also banned from the wheel. those unfortunate enough to have witnessed it don’t speak of their experience, but rumors involve something along the lines of a custom-made Gai inspirational quotes driving playlist. 0/10

Temari - grew up driving her brothers around. Absolutely hates it. when she’s in a car she’s got her feet up on the dashboard and always has the aux. if she were to drive again, 9.5/10

Gaara - an…extremely calm, level headed driver? side effect of RBF is that everyone is always waiting for him to snap and run someone over. he never has. probably listens to calming classical music or something while in traffic jams. 10000/10

Kankuro - I find it funny to believe he’s the actual passenger princess. unknowable/10

[munsonsprincess11111]

Hi! Can I request Eddie x reader and she's his passenger princess?

All of her friends tell her to learn how to drive and get a license but Eddie's okay with driving her and he always tells her it's not a problem.

One time at a party Eddie's super drunk and he obviously can't drive back home. He's extremely surprised because she drove them to his trailer.

It turned out she has a driving license but she's scared to drive and only agree when streets are empty.

Even though drunken Eddie ask her to forget that she can drive because he likes spending time with her.

Thank you for your time 💜

Passenger princess...

Eddie x reader

Summary: this is my first request and omg. That's the Summary I actually love this.

"Y/n you really need your own license you can't keep getting Eddie to come get you from everywhere what is he says no?" Robin says sat on a bench outside the mall with you. She's been trying to convince you for ages to get your license but you refuse.

"HE won't say no ok he may be a tad late but he loves me." You say fiddling with your bag.

"What if he's busy and can't come get you? Then what?"Robin retaliates.

Before you can answer Eddie pulls into the parking lot pulling up next to you.

"Hey sweetheart get in." HE says leaning across to open your door.

"Gotta go Rob see you later." You say getting in Eddie's van. Robin shakes her head and walked back into the mall to go back to work.

You buckle your seat belt and sit back in Eddie's passenger seat before he drives out if the mall parking lot. "How was the mall." HE askes sliding his cigarettes out of his pocket slipping one between his lips before lighting it.

"Was fun same old stuff really got a new dress for that party tonight though." You say putting your feet on his dash he looks at you out the corner of his eye smirking and rolling his eyes.

"Do we have to go to that." HE asks, blowing the smoke out the window.

"Yes you are dealing there remember?" You say taking the cigarette out of his mouth throwing it out of your window.

"OH yeah." Eddie says leaning back in his chair.

"Hey can I ask you something?" You ask playing with your hands. Eddie's lighting another cigarette.

"Course you can princess." HE answers sliding a hand onto your thigh. You take his hand and fiddle with his rings.

"DO you mind driving me places. Like does it bother you?" You say Finally looking at Eddie.

"Nope not all sweetheart. Ask me that question as many times as you'd like the answer will always be the same. Your my passenger princess. Wouldn't want it any other way." HE says being your hand to his and kissing it.

You smiles at his response and nod. "Love you." You mumble.

"Love you more." Eddie smiles back around his cigarette.

-

You and Eddie arrived at the party about 3 hours ago. He told you about an hour ago he was gonna go talk to Steve and Jonathan while you was talking to Nancy and Robin. "You should just get your license. I have mine, and Jonathan drives me places. it's just like an independence thing, you know?" Nancy says with Robin nodding next to her.

"Thanks girls but I'm OK. I'm gonna go find Eddie." You say crossing your arms over your chest walking into the kitchen where you last saw Eddie. To your luck that's exactly where he is. But just from one look at him you can tell he's sloshed.

"Hey hot stuff!" He yells wrapping an arm over your shoulders. "God Eddie your drunk." You say looking him in the eyes. He frowns ans shakes his curls.

"No babe I'm just a lil tipsy." HE says patting your head. You shake your head and grab his hand dragging him outside the house. "Give me your keys." You say putting a hand out. He looks at you eyebrows furrowed. "Keys." You say again. He reaches into his denim pocket and gives you the keys. You nod walking over to the van Eddie's hand in yours.

-

"Your telling me you could drive this whole time." HE says starring at you from the passenger seat of the van.

"Yes Eddie." You says concentrating on the road.

"Wha- why didn't you tell me?" HE askes still very confused.

You look over at your drunk boyfriend for a brief second before letting out a sigh. "Cause I hate driving. I don't like it cause the roads are busy and it just stresses me out. You drive me everywhere anyway and I didn't wanna tell you I could drive and then suddenly I have to drive I just hate it." You say turning into thr trailer park.

Eddie's looking at you curiously before he speaks. "Well can you just totally forget how to drive cause I looooooooove driving you around. And the fact you feel safe enough to let me drive you around is an honour baby." HE says. You pull up at his trailer and take the keys out of the ignition handing them back to him.

He kisses you sweetly. You help Eddie out of the van and into the trailer before he falls straight into bed and into dream land.

-

You wake up when you hear Eddie run out of his bedroom straight to the bathroom. You wonder in behind him to see him throwing up. As obvious as it was, it was gonna happen. You still felt bad for him. You held his hair as he threw up all the booze from last night.

He sat against the sink rubbing his eyebrows. "I meant what I said last night by the way." HE says finally looking at you. You look at him confused as you hand him a pill and water.

"I don't care if you can drive. I drive you everywhere." HE smiles before taking the pill and smiling at you goofily. You let out a giggle. "Trust me you can drive me everywhere I won't fight you on that. I love you." You say sitting next to him.

He drops his head onto your shoulder holding your hand. "I love you too."

[justsomerandom-nerd]

Alfred taught Bruce how to drive and it was the worst experience of his life. He had less of a heart attack when Bruce decided to fight crime dressed like a furry.

Bruce tried to teach Dick but backed out after the car ended up wrapped around a tree. Dick was only fourteen but come on Bruce, you let me fight crime on a school night but you won’t teach me how to drive.

Alfred picked up the slack and within a couple weeks, Dick was a better driver than half of Gotham. There are no traffic laws in Gotham, so it’s not hard, per se.

Jason had the best understanding of how a car worked. He could barely reach the brake, but he could Hotwire a car in ten seconds flat and Alfred didn’t ask questions. Still, he needed hours to get his license, and Bruce wouldn’t just sign the form. (No Jason, driving the Batmobile doesn’t count.) He didn’t really need any guidance, he never so much as blew a stop light, and it was really just an excuse for them to talk. Jason died before he was old enough to get his license, but he had more than enough hours. Alfred has the log, crumpled and faded, stuffed in a box under his bed, signed, alongside Jason’s forgotten drivers permit. It’s got a little heart on it, he was a donor.

Tim learned to drive from Jack Drake, and Alfred almost regrets not getting to teach him. It was something he wanted to bond with him over. But then Tim goes to Alfred, sheepishly, can you teach me to drive standard? It only takes a couple sessions, and Alfred has a heart attack when they roll backwards, but they get a laugh out of it after. Tim’s not half bad at it, after all.

Steph is no protege. She never has been. Her mom is too shakey to drive, still recovering, and her dad, well it’s hard to teach a kid to drive from blackgate. She won’t ask Tim, he’s only fifteen, and Bruce she despises. But she needs hours and she needs someone to sign her log. Alfred agrees, a little hesitant, but hey, she needs help. It’s the first chance he gets to know her. They make a sudden stop, and her arm curls around her stomach, scared for a child that hasn’t been born. At some point she says, some days I have to stop myself from buying a car seat. I know if I did, I wouldn’t be able to let go.

Cass comes next, and it’s not like she’s never driven before. She’s just never driven with rules before. She blows past stop signs with shakey apologies, but he never yells. It takes her a couple days to get used to not driving like she’s in a high speed chase, and when she does, it’s so relaxing. She drives Alfred around Gotham on errands and they go out to lunch, and even when she has her license they make it a thing. She’s his only granddaughter after all, why shouldn’t they?

Duke isn’t half bad. Alfred shows him the ropes, and he’s a little more nervous than the others. Duke makes less mistakes, and finally, he relaxes. He points out places around Gotham he knows from being a kid living in the city, and Alfred hears how lovingly he speaks about it. They drive a lot at night since Duke patrols during the day, and Gotham at night is a very different story. It’s more alive. And Duke knows the streets like the back of his hand, because it’s his city. He belongs there, just as much as he belongs with the rest of the Waynes.

Damian is a difficult story. He’s known how to drive since he was a literal child, so he’s understandably pissed when Bruce still makes him get practice hours off the vigilante clock. Dick is conveniently stuck in Bludhaven, and Damian simply wants to get it done as soon as possible. Alfred is his second choice, the only person he can think of spending forty unbearable hours driving with. It’s quite pleasant, Alfred lets him pick the music and they bond over a love of classical music. Alfred’s errands take excruciatingly long but after, they grab lunch, and oh why don’t we stop and see the knew exhibit at the Gotham Art Museum. Damian spends hours ranting about his siblings and Bruce, and Alfred tells him stories of how insufferable Bruce was as a child.

(I just think it’d be funny if Bruce was like, I know you could drive at 11 but you should probably get your required hours in out of costume, but I’m busy and you’re grandpa wants to spend time with you)

[iris0-0]

Driver!Ellie Williams headcanons

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Warnings: Mentions of racing and speeding, nsfw if you squint.

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Driver!Ellie: Who’s first car was Joel’s old red Chevy truck that was a bit rusty, she was estatic.

Driver!Ellie: Her license looks like a mugshot

Driver!Ellie: Who worked at an auto shop to earn enough money to buy a black Chevy Camaro, the prize of her life until you showed up ofc.

Driver!Ellie: Who only puts the masculine scented ‘little trees’ in her car. Until she let you put in a cherry one that lasted for months.

Driver!Ellie:Who used any excuse to drive her car. Need something? Car. Hungry? Car. Beautiful sunset? Car.

Driver!Ellie:Who you can tell is home by the slightly rev of her Camaro.

Driver!Ellie:Who swerves on empty backroads to drive you crazy.

Driver!Ellie:That rests her hand on your thigh on slower speed roads.

Driver!Ellie:Who’s prob eaten someone out in the back of her car in a dark empty parking lot.

Driver!Ellie:Who has illegally tinted windows.

Driver!Ellie:Who got a speeding (from racing someone on an empty highway) ticket at 18 and Joel (verbally) beat her ass and made her work extremely hard to pay it and regain his trust.

Driver!Ellie: That never speeds and always checks twice before doing anything on the road after Joel’s warning.

Driver!Ellie: That plays explicit/vulgar music loving the bass of the car.

Driver!Ellie who nearly gave Joel a heart attack when learning how to drive.

Driver!Ellie: Who looks like a man wearing sweatpants and a hoodie pumping gas at night.

[ashwhowrites]

so I was wondering if you could do a story where Robin has been spending less time with her girlfriend ever since she got her license and so she thinks reader is cheating on her since she got a car and could go where ever she wanted so one day to get her out of her slump Steve takes her to see a street racing competition and who does she sees their? Reader kicking ass and ignoring every girl and boy who flirted with her and immediately goes to kiss Robin the second she sees her. So she’s definitely not cheating and reader explained that the reason they where here more was because of the extra money she could make to buy Robin a gift 🥺

(kinda like angst to fluff and maybe smut at the end idk)

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻 there isn't any smut, I'm sorry

Racer

Robin knew never learning how to drive would come back to bite her in the ass. She cursed herself for never learning or even attempting. She enjoyed Stevedriving her around, getting to be the passenger DJ and shout orders.

Ever since her girlfriend Y/N got a license, she has barely seen her. She was constantly driving off and never seemed to be home when Robin called. The random act of disappearance ate away at Robin's brain. She felt like her skin was constantly itchy as she felt uncomfortable in her clothes.

Something was going on and Robin had a horrible gut feeling about what it was. Someone was taking up all of her girlfriend's time, putting her in a slump.

Steve felt worried for his friend and wanted to do something to get her out of the house. He didn't want to believe Y/N was cheating, but Robin made a good argument. Still, Steve demanded she got fresh air.

Robin sighed as Steve's car came to a stop, she took in her surroundings.

"Is this a race track?" She asked, truthfully she had never been to one or thought of going to one. But now that she was here, and could hear the screams of fans she was intrigued.

"Yep, so let's watch some racing and get your mind off her." Steve smiled, hopping out of his car and Robin followed.

They walked down the bleachers, heading for the front spot near the fence. The cars were loud and the smoke filled Robin's nose. She wasn't sure if this was legal, but she was amazed by all the different kinds of cars and people.

She looked to her left and felt her eyes widen, she elbowed Steve repeatedly until he finally looked.

"Holy shit, is that Y/N?" Steve asked, he quickly checked her out before Robin noticed. Y/N was in jean shorts and a tank top, gloves on her hands as she leaned against her new car. She was talking to someone, and feeling eyes on her she looked over.

Robin couldn't help but smile at the reaction Y/N had seeing her. Y/N was quick to end the conversation, with a big smile as she waved. Robin waved back, stunned by how hot her girlfriend looked and wondering why she was here.

Robin kept her eyes on her as Y/N walked over to them, ignoring every boy who tried to walk up to talk to her. Robin could hear the whistles and cat calls, but Y/N ignored them.

"Rob!" Y/N cheered, throwing her arms around Robin and pulling her into a kiss

Robin slowly kissed back, her head still spinning from the wild events.

"What are you doing here?" Robin asked when she pulled away, Steve stood a few feet back to give them privacy.

"A little side job to make some extra cash. I've been winning races like crazy, and saving every dime for your birthday. What are you doing here?" Y/N asked her arms still around Robin's neck.

"That is so sweet," Robin cooed, feeling extremely guilty for thinking she was cheating. "I uh...Steve wanted to get me out of the house and brought me here." Robin explained

"Well, I'm glad you are here. Let me show you around." Y/N smiled, she removed her arms, instead slipping her hand in Robin's. "Steve, you are welcome to join."

"That's alright. You girls have fun" Steve winked, walking to find a seat.

"So...my girlfriend is a street racer?" Robin asked, a real smile appearing on her face. She nudged her shoulder against Y/N's as they walked towards the track

[m3talmunson]

Steve Harrington except his mom comes from old money, his father new. So while Steve's mom took his father's last name (reluctantly. She was doing her best to promise that her son would have a good life ahead of him), she got to choose Steve's first, which just happens not to be Steve.

His name is actually Esteban Eberardo Ortiz Harrington, because by God, Maria Harrington would never let her son have an English name since she had to give up her own to promise her son a decent life.

Somewhere along the way she got lost in it all. She chased Mr. Harrington around to make sure he wasn't sleeping with whatever floozie secretary he had at the moment, and in doing so she forgot to be a mother - as much as somebody can just forget that duty.

So, one day Esteban got dropped off at his grandpa's house and became Steve. Then one day Steve's grandfather died and Steve didn't even see his father at the funeral. His father, the dead man's son, sent Maria with flowers to the funeral. Flowers she didn't have a destination for. So, the moment it was over she dragged Steve and the flowers back to the dust-covered Harrington home. She makes some dinner and has a nice night with her son, but as they curl up on the couch and try to settle for the night, she brings him up.

"Mijo, your father. I have to go back to him tomorrow. I have a plane ride in the morning. I have to go sweetheart." She blinks back the tears in her eyes as she delivers the news.

"It's ok mama! I'm 10 now, double digits." He holds out both of his hands, all of his fingers splayed out. "I can take care of things here." He put on his best brave face, something Grandpa Harrington taught him.

"Grandma is going to visit you as much as she can, but she doesn't live near here. You'll be on your own a lot, my sweet sweet boy." She let the tears run at this point, ignoring the musical she had put on the TV to occupy their thoughts.

"Don't cry mama," He curled up into her side. "Wait, Grandma? But she's been gone for longer than Grandpa?"

"No, no, my mama. She'll be up here every so often for you. My brave boy." She kissed the top of Steve's head, peppered a few more against Steve's complaints of tickling.

"Come on mama, Dolly's singing!" He said, and drew his attention back to the TV like it was nothing. They fell asleep on the couch that night. Mr. Harrington never would have approved, but maybe he just didn't need to know.

And that began the life of Steve being alone. At least, most of the time. His grandma did come up every so often. She taught him how to cook, clean, where the stools were, and which ones were tall enough for him to reach the cookie jar. The same cookie jar that stayed in place just incase his parents did come home and happen to give half a shit about it.

When she couldn't be there, over the phone, she taught her little Esteban Spanish. His father never allowed it in the house, but the moment she insisted she be called Abuelita and not Grandma, she piqued Esteban's interest.

He was interested until he got made fun of for the accent. He continued to learn it, but insisted that he be called Steve, the same way she insisted he call her something else. That set the record straight for him.

During high school, she got too frail for him to visit. The Harrington's put money in the bank for Steve, so he began to visit her. He'd fly down to where she was staying, drive once he could. Steve got his license the very first day he could, just to visit her. He planned her funeral when the day came, just a month before Will Byers went missing. That kept him in contact with quite a few of his cousins that way, checked in on everyone and made the rounds while he tried to remain a normal teenager, have a normal girlfriend, live as King Steve, or Steve "The Hair" Harrington. Anything that kept his life nice and neatly in place.

Then, a stupid nail bat was his lifeline. Screw normal, he couldn't trust anyone or anything anymore. Two years later, he got tortured by Russians and then, maybe he could trust someone.

Somewhere between his fall from grace and saving the world for good, he grew to trust a lot of people. Grew to have people at his house all the time, filling that god awful empty house.

He had Eddie over one night when he got a call from his cousin Mariana, she had just finished her freshman year of college in the US, so her English was getting pretty good, but she greeted him in Spanish so he can only return the favor. Steve guessed it was only a matter of time until Eddie and the others found out about him anyways.

So, he responded to Mariana. He had an entire conversation with her, back to the couch that Eddie was sat on. Last he knew Eddie was flipping through movies, but all the noises stopped. At least Steve could assume that maybe he just picked a movie, and maybe get hurt or yelled at or something after the call. He just had to get through this conversation with Mariana.

He heard the crash of tapes falling and had to end it.

"Sorry Mari, I've got to go." He said abruptly in English, and tried his hardest not to slam the phone back into the receiver.

When he turned around, he didn't expect what he saw. Sure, Eddie's jaw was basically on the floor, but he didn't seem angry, not like Steve had expected.

"You- you speak Spanish, Stevie?" Eddie had almost a shocked rasp to his voice, clutching onto the tape in his hand, the one that managed to not fall.

"Yeah, have for about 8 or 9 years now."

"You, Steve Harrington, are fluent in Spanish?"

"Esteban Eberardo Ortiz Harrington, actually. And yeah, my mom is Mexican."

"Est- Esteban???" Eddie laughed out. "Good God Stevie-"

"I know, I know, I should have told you sooner. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hide it, I just- it's hard walking around Hawkins with a Spanish accent, it's just so-" He interrupted Eddie.

"Steve, Stevie, no." It was Eddie's turn to interrupt. "I'm not mad at you sweetheart. Definitely not mad." Eddie hinted at something else.

"You're not mad? What- I-" Steve raised his eyebrow. "What's that look about then?"

Eddie had been out to Steve for a while, and vice-versa. They hadn't exactly not been flirting, so Eddie didn't feel too crazy saying this next part.

"If I'm being so honest, Stevie," Eddie stepped closer into Steve's personal space, "I wouldn't say completely platonic feelings."

"Oh, that's what does it for you, Munson? Really?" Steve teased. Back with the bravado charm.

"I dunno... want to say some more?"

And, of course, the moment he hears it again -the accent Steve's voice works itself into- he's basically frothing at the mouth. He drops the tape he was holding and swings his arms around Steve's neck, only a little awkward considering the lack of height difference.

"I guess it is, Esteban."

"You don't even know what I said!" Steve pretended to act shocked, or pissed or something, but he really didn't care.

"Tell me later," Eddie cut Steve off with a swift kiss, and maybe Steve would settle for later.

Maybe he'd have a lifetime to tell Eddie that all he said was "I really want to kiss you." He had his wish fulfilled anyway.

[the-sassy-owl]

🏁🏎DU DU DU DU- ANNABETH CHASE DU DU DU DU 🏎🏁

A low effort one (because my mental health has been hanging by a threat)

Headcanon: Percy was the one who taught Annabeth how to drive. Right before the Battle of Manhattan, he promised her that he would. It was an unspoken understanding between the two: to look forward and have hope for both of them to make it out alive.

Annabeth takes on his offer mostly to prove herself that she could do it, and also because even though they are dating now, Percy got his license first and she won't let him rub it in her face. So she learns how to drive, she gets her license before the summer is over and then goes back to one of her favorite things: being Percy's passenger princess 😌❤️

[hms-no-fun]

Oh yeah the big pickups to work in an office job infuriate me to no end. A whole parking lot full of death machines that have never known the touch of a gravel road or hauled anything larger than a big Costco run. I have a nice lil electric hatchback tho.

the thing is, i always wanted a car. my parents took me on a lot of road trips when i was growing up (i remember a couple years before he died, my dad told me he was very proud to have shown me so much of the country when he himself had grown up poor and could only travel as far as the next job took him), so of course i have in me that quintessential American longing for The Road. in high school, i fantasized about getting into a car and disappearing into traffic, traveling to some distant corner where nobody lived and finding a situation to occupy. god help me, as a teen i bemoaned being born too late and longed for the naive vision of the 60s i'd received from my parents and pop culture and the rusted-over kitsch that dotted the remains of Route 66 (which my dad loved to talk about).

i hate car culture in part because i used to love car culture. it's a microcosm of indoctrinated American patriotism in general. they sell you on the dream, right? the freedom of travel, of expression. i wanted to be the millennial Jack Kerouac, whose work i did not actually read because i was young and dumb and drowning in dysphoria. but as i got older i saw how quickly little bumps and scratches can turn into massive financial burdens, to say nothing of cracked windshields or flat tires. then my mom died and i was given the responsibility of handling her car, a silver scion xb. i was 19, i did not have a license and had next to zero experience driving, nor had i ever had a job before. when i say "given the responsibility to handle her car" instead of "given her car," i mean that i didn't just get her car. like, i had it, i had the keys and no one was around to tell me not to drive it. but in order to get the title signed over to me, i had to go through an insane bureaucratic process of proving that my mom was dead, and that i was her kid, and that i should have the title to the car. this took months of back and forth miscommunication as dated notices were sent and bills piled up. because it wasn't just the car i got, but the debt as well. some $30,000 of it left unpaid by mom, which i was now expected to pay in her stead. my first job was working night shifts at a wal mart stocking the frozen food department, and that was the job where i rode my bike on the highway to get to work. i didn't drive because i didn't have a license, didn't have experience, was terrified of highway drivers, and knew very distinctly that if anything went wrong i'd instantly be in so much more debt (monetary and bureaucratic) than i already was. eventually my sister, a career nurse with three kids and a house, took over the car from me.

nobody understood why i didn't drive that car more. even my mom, when she was still alive, she said "when i was your age, i was dying to get out of the house." i was too! but for all that cars culturally represented freedom, in practice what they came to represent to me was the expected cost of participating in society. i was already sensitive to adults sneering at me for my perceived immaturity (the joys of being a millennial), which only compounded on learning that i didn't have a car or license, that i wasn't proactively joining Clubs or Organizations, that i wanted to pursue the arts of all things, that i wasn't Christian, etc etc etc. i never got out to see live music because i didn't have a car and didn't have money. i didn't get my first smart phone until late 2015. i spent a lot of my college years feeling alienated because i was at least two years older than everyone else (i already didn't want to go to college straight out of high school even before my mom died), still used a flip phone, and didn't have a car. which is to say i was a working class person trying to get by in a middle class institution. and i only got in because i was very good at peddling my sob story for sympathy points. FAFSA loves to finance the odd tragedy, i'm telling you (don't worry, i still had to take on a ton of student loan debt). when i expressed to family that i didn't want a car because i didn't feel safe as a driver, and felt that i shouldn't need to have a car in order to participate in society, they said "everyone feels that way at first, but you just have to get over it. or move to a big city. good luck affording that!" as a related aside, when i told those same people that i liked being in college for the pursuit of knowledge and wanted to graduate towards being a sort of generalist, they flatly insisted that that's not how college works anymore, and that i should instead put my energies towards a Useful Degree that would Get Me A Good Job.

of course they were sympathetic, at least on the surface. they told me these things in a kind tone, the way adults always do when what they're saying boils down to "it's not fair, but life ain't fair." and i've just never been able to accept that. before i knew anything about socialism or communism or materialist dialectics, when i was still very much under the thrall of post-Clinton liberalism, i still felt this deep-rooted conviction that when people said "life isn't fair," they were giving up something. that it was an excuse, an appeal to a higher power, a resignation to the status quo. my experience with cars, by the time i hit 25, was that you bought them for the freedom they promised, and then spent of your life driving that car between one of maybe five locations on the regular and doing very little else. the only time i ever felt free in a car was on a road trip, which happened with vanishing irregularity as all the associated costs skyrocketed in the 2000s. all the other time was spent driving in circles looking for parking, only to balk at how expensive it was. spent stuck in traffic for hours, amid concrete dunes of overpasses tangled with one another like a four-year-old's first try at tying their own shoes. spent angrily judging the poor driving conduct of other people, spent resenting anyone and everyone who inconvenienced their drive, spent rubbernecking at horrific accidents on the side of the road, spent worrying about car payments and insurance payments and how much it's gonna cost to get a tune-up, and then someone breaks in and steals all your stuff and your insurance doesn't want to pay for it, and then you get into an accident and you spend months haggling with your insurance and their insurance in the hopes that someone will maybe pay for the debt you've had to take on in getting your car repaired, because of course professional life doesn't take a break just because your mode of transportation got totaled.

and if i was applying for a job and the employer found out i didn't have a car, i was denied on the spot. i learned very quickly to lie about such things as often as possible. but i also learned that i could only bluff for so long before the lack of a car became a genuinely insurmountable hurdle. which fucked me up tremendously because at no point in my adult life, to this day, can i ever imagine being able to afford all the associated costs of having a car. in many respects, not having a car was the only reason i was able to survive the way i did. it meant i could work part-time while i was in school (with student loans making up the shortfall), share an apartment with two or three or four other people, and just barely have enough to eat the bare minimum and go see a movie sometimes. of course i wanted the freedom all my car-owning friends had, but mostly i wanted it so i could drive out into the middle of nowhere at night and be truly alone. i wanted a car so that i could escape from the frictional sandpaper bureaucracy of american existence... and i knew from experience by then that that's simply not how the world works.

it took me until 2020 to finally move to seattle, one of those mythical Big Cities with Actually Existing Public Transit. and holy shit, it's a revelation! i have better access the place where i live now than i ever have, and it's a freedom that costs SO MUCH LESS than the same would've cost me back home. but i've also lived here long enough now to see all the ways in which our transit system here is deeply flawed and run by the wrong people. i see many of the same forces at play here as i did back home. i see now how car owners and allies to the car dealership fiefdoms of the nation utilize car ownership and road maintenance as a tremendous lever of power. they've deliberately trapped us in this cycle of poverty and personal transportation reliance, and used the money they got from us buying their cars to then buy politicians so that they defund public transit and oppose any urbanist reforms. did you know that much of america used to be covered by street cars and rail lines? if you live in the midwest or on the west coast, your town very likely only exists the way it does because of mass public transit. they were necessary for bringing people into these remote places to create new markets for wealth extraction. once the population in those places was stable, and mass-produced personal vehicles became the norm, the capitalists of those areas deliberately allowed the transit networks to "go bankrupt" (ie they pretended transit is a business and not a utility that pretty much by definition can't turn a profit in a traditional manner) so they could be bought up and liquidated by future car dealers. this is what i think of when i remember my family telling me "that's just not the way the world works."

why? it used to be the way the world worked. why can't it be again? if the current status quo is the result of choices that created economic pressures which shaped the nature of society, why can't we do the same thing again but different? the way things are now is sick. it's unhealthy. the vast majority of microplastics come from car rubber, and what socioeconomic classes do you think are mostly likely to live close to high-traffic roads? it's not rich people, i'll tell you that. it's not the car dealers or the small city councils worried that a bus connection might bring the poors in. when i say "car owners need to be oppressed" i'm talking about these people. suburban supremacist dictators and their sycophantic liege lords whose biggest priorities in life are to keep gas prices low and to maintain their god-given right to never having to see a poor person. i hate these people because i've been sneered at by them my whole life, while they have been personally responsible for many of the same socioeconomic conditions which resulted in the deaths of both my parents, along with many other members of my extended family. i've long since stopped believing in the idea of "death by natural causes." only the rich live long enough to die old. the rest of us die by a thousand cuts borne of neglect. our healthcare is gatekept, our education is gatekept, our transportation is gatekept. freedom is a thing to be bought, and when you don't have money, the next best thing is your blood. you give it up for a piece of something and you convince yourself that it's enough for you. but it is only a piece, and its apportionment is the result of greed and avarice happening in broad daylight all around us. i fully believe that a genuine war will need to be waged against the car barons before this horrendous now can be toppled, and it will be a war because they are aligned with the cops and with capital. this, too, is a microcosm, and in it we see the nature of our struggle for socialism unburdened by neoliberal word salad.

people have made the world this way. and people will make it something else.

[castingpods]

Kate and Anne Wolf 359 headcanons bc ofc I’m obsessed with these characters who never actually appear but haunt the narrative

The accident happened in ~late 2011, Anne was barely four. By the time the Hephaestus arrived back on earth she’s nine.

Goddard paid for Kate and Anne to move somewhere with better resources for both of them. I think Maryland bc it has one of the biggest deaf communities in the U.S.

Kate got a degree in nursing after helping Anne recover

Kate started taking ASL classes to better communicate with Anne, and she meets a single father of a deaf son there, who she falls for and eventually marries

Kate always made sure to be honest with Anne about what happened. That her dad was sick (an alcoholic) and that made him make bad decisions, but they were still his decisions and that doesn’t take away from them being hurtful and needing to be held accountable for. And Kate tells her that she is angry at Doug, always will be, but also she can never regret meeting him because he’s the reason Anne exists at all

Eiffel learns how to say three phrases in sign language before he meets Anne in person. They are 1. I’m sorry 2. I love you 3. I understand if you hate me

Anne calls her stepdad ‘dad’ and calls Eiffel ‘Doug’ so people think he’s the stepdad. he hates this but can’t bring himself to say anything abt it because he really hasn’t been a father to her

Eiffel becomes conversational in ASL for her!!! he’s really bad at it at first but Kate helps to translate for them while he learns.

At Kate’s behest they do ‘family counseling’, but it’s mostly just Kate being pissed at a baffled Eiffel who has no memory of any of the shit he did and eventually the therapist just makes Kate switch to individual therapy.

Minkowski and Kate become besties. so fast. they bond over having a complicated history with Eiffel who they have both deeply cared about but also found to be a horribly reckless idiot who endangers the lives of those around him. Eiffel finds it deeply troubling that they are friends and hang out without him.

Speaking of which!!! Minkowski is basically an aunt to Anne. Doug had his license revoked with the accident and never got it back (and doesn’t remember how to drive anyway) so Minkowski drives him back and forth to see Anne.

Anne is one of 3 living people outside of the Hephaestus crew who know Lovelace is a dear listener duplicate and has been sworn to utmost secrecy.

Kate has literally no idea how to handle Eiffel being back without any memory. He’s not the Eiffel she remembers but she’s still pissed at him. He can’t fully understand the scope of what the past version of him did to her. He apologizes a million times but it will never be enough because it wasn’t him who did it, not really, but it looks like him and sounds like him and she can never look at him without seeing him the way she did at the trial, as a monster who hurt her baby.

[jacenbren]

Tokyo Jujutsu Tech students and staff and whether or not they can drive:

Gojo

Drives a hideous minivan he got off Craigslist to spite his parents

Claims to be a “responsible driver” but is super jerky on the brakes and blows through stop signs

The students love riding with him because he always stops to get McDonalds. Nanami fucking HATES getting in the car with Gojo and avoids it at all costs

Talks incessantly to himself and to passengers while driving and constantly sings along to the radio

Yuuji

Currently learning to drive from Gojo (aka driving around while Gojo sits in the passenger seat with a milkshake and overshares about his past while occasionally yelling at Yuuji to speed up)

Inherited a tiny shitty old car from his grandpa and refuses to part with it

Drives either way too fast or really damn slow and there’s no in between

Can’t drive without the music on full blast because he’s used to Gojo talking his ear off

Megumi

Taught himself how to drive and refused to let Gojo teach him

Always goes exactly the speed limit and bitches about it whenever someone cuts him off (has attempted multiple times to summon Mahoraga on shitty drivers)

Absolutely VICIOUS when it comes to the aux cord and is a staunch supporter of the “the driver picks the music” rule

Gojo buys him a new car every year for his birthday but Megumi prefers his first car (a jeep. don’t ask why.)

Nobara

HORRIBLE road rage

Always going at least ten miles above the limit and has more speeding tickets than she does overcharged credit cards (Yuuji is holding on for dear life whenever he rides with her)

Convinced Gojo to buy her a luxury sports car and managed to dent it horrendously after two (2) weeks

Her car is always so full of shopping bags and makeup and other stuff that you can barely sit down

Yuuta

Also learned how to drive from Gojo and it shows

Doesn’t like driving because it triggers his anxiety and when he has to. oh boy.

Needs the car to be DEAD SILENT whenever he’s driving and sits hunched over in his seat with the look of a crazed chimpanzee in his eyes while he grips the steering wheel so hard he’s shaking

Doesn’t have a car and usually bums rides from Maki

Maki

A surprisingly decent driver but always goes way too fast and is notorious for tailgating people

Has at least two of the windows down at all times as long as it isn’t raining and always has her music on full blast

The only student who knows how to drive a stick shift. is weirdly proud of this fact.

Has a stereotypical straight-white-man-style lifted pickup truck that she refers to as “her baby”

Toge

Whips around corners at 20 miles over the speed limit and casually breaks every traffic law known to man but has never gotten a ticket thanks to his “expert persuasion techniques”

His car was one of Megumi’s cars before he stole it (Megumi doesn’t actually mind but he pretends to be annoyed on principle)

Drags Yuuta out every weekend to hotbox the car with him

Has like six of those little air fresheners that hang off the rear view mirror but they don’t exactly cover the weed smell

Panda

Somehow has a valid drivers license. no one knows how he got it.

Chews on the interior out of boredom when he’s stuck in traffic and the car constantly looks like a wild animal got loose in it

Has Yaga’s old car (a beat up old station wagon that doesn’t look great but hasn’t broken down in ten years)

Is the designated driver whenever the second and third years go out

Nanami

Owns the most beautiful classic car that he keeps spotlessly clean

An excellent driver who ALWAYS uses his blinkers and almost never loses his temper

Secretly salty that the students only to like ride with Gojo (it’s because Nanami never stops at McDonalds and always says something along the lines of “we have food at home”)

Curses out other drivers under his breath when he sees them driving recklessly

Shoko

Drives with one hand on the wheel and the other dangling out the window with a cigarette while blasting 90s dad rock

Bought a hearse years ago because she thought it would be funny

Would pick up Megumi and Tsumiki from school in the hearse if Gojo couldn’t make it

Megumi hates the hearse. Tsumiki loves it.

Yaga

Drives a tiny Kia soul and always has craft supplies all over the backseat because he forgot to bring them inside after his latest Joann’s shopping spree

Has a gigantic collection of mini plushies on the dashboard

Yells at people when they cut him off

Feels guilty about it whenever he has students in the car with him but can’t stop himself from yelling and ends up getting even more irritated and short-tempered because he feels guilty and the students riding with him are left in terrified silence as the vicious cycle continues

Hakari

Managed to single-handedly drive up Jujutstu Tech’s car insurance by thousands of dollars

[minamartin]

Whispers of Violence - Chapter 1 : Enjoy Your Freedom

Rating : Mature

Warnings : Hints of violence, physical and psychological abuse & trauma.

Benny stood anxiously by the door of his jail cell. He doesn't have to get a last look onto these worn out walls, the used up and uncomfortable bed, nor the high and small window, where even he couldn't see anything from. He never had anything in his cell, other than his stack of cigarettes, a few books and one picture. He touched his front pocket. He felt the thin, overfolded picture in it.

His stomach was the size of a pea when he got in. Now that was about to leave, it is again. But for different reasons. The night that landed him here, ended so fast it got him whiplashed. All he had in here was time. Time to think. Time to drive himself insane with all the doubts and worries that had gone through his mind. Every single hour of every day when he wasn't fighting to survive in here, he was wondering what happened to her.

He remembered the sound of thumps and shattering glass coming from the house when he arrived. He remembered the anger he felt when it overloaded his rational thinking, as he kicked in the door. She was lying on the ground, barely moving at all. He could not see her face. He couldn't even reach her before his anger took over and let itself out on her father. He kept guessing this decision millions of times – was it better to not even get a look of what he did to his own daughter or he should have look at her and call an ambulance, before he did everything that landed him in here?!

The ward arrived at the door and the buzzing sound that became so familiar by now, allows him to have a last concert hearing it, and as he walks in front of the guard, the last time ever being cuffed up, the strange and familiar cacophony of all the inmates in their cells becoming more distant as he walks by the corridors.

He felt a neverending whirlwind of anxiety, standing between the secondary and the main gate's fence. Like he would actually walk back... He felt the heated up concrete pushing all of the sun's heat into the air. His arms were bare and free to feel the warmth. He heard the noises of the highway in the distance and the buzzing sound of the main gate opening.

As the gates shut behind him, he raised his face towards the sky. Even the sunlight felt different on his face, than in the courtyard of the building. He closed his eyes as a light breeze touched his face. He clenched his vest hard in his left hand and surveyed the parking lot. He spot a familiar face in the distance amongst the parking cars.

A slight and weak smile has gathered at the corner of his mouth as he slowly, taking his sweet time walking the pace he pleases. Not a single ward knocking and pushing him in any direction.

Benny remembered Vince exactly as he saw him now. Tall frame, kind eyes behind a worn out face. He was there for him from the start when he joined the club. He patched him up too many times when a fight ended badly for him, drove him when his bike broke down and he learned how to fix it from him. He surely never could count on his useless, drunken father, but Vince was always there when he was in any need.

"Vince!" A weak and sad chuckle erupted from Benny as he reached the old man's open arms and received and gave his first hug after five years. He remained there for a long minute as his emotions died down.

"You thought you'll have to walk all the way home, huh?!" Vince joked.

"I kinda did...actually." Benny said nodding.

"That's a long walk, boy. Even for you!"

Benny just realised how harsh Vince's voice became. Perhaps all the cigarettes he smoked in his years came to collect. A short but heavy series of coughs erupted from him, that put a little worry into Benny.

"You wanna drive?" Vince asked, wiping his mouth into a handkierchief.

"I probably don't have an active license." Benny stated, glancing back at the building behind him.

Vince laughed wholeheartedly.

Benny didn't.

Vince studied the young, handsome boys face for a long moment.

"So you serious?" Vince asked with a little bit of proudness in his voice.

"I just got released, i ain't going back for a fucking pull over!" Benny said.

Vince hid a loving, proud smile into the corner of his mouth.

Benny experimented with the feeling of a moving car under him for while and took in the scenery beyond the rolled down window. Lots of traffic, the sound of the various engines and horns, the blowing wind on his arms. He felt some resemblance to freedom.

Vince pulled up to a drive through, and bought Benny his first real cheeseburger and ice cold Coke after a very long time. It smelled and tasted better than he remembered. He savoured the first bite for half a minute before swallowing it. He didn't even realized, but a moan erupted from him. He glanced down at the cheeseburger in his hand and then devoured it like a starved man, licking his fingers clean from the melted cheese. He surely missed a lot of things. Good food was not the priority on his list of things, but sure as hell it was among the more accessible ones.

Benny stared out of the window, looking at the traffic they were part of and played with the paper cup's plastic lid, when Vince broke the silence between them.

"How was it? I mean inside. Was it rough?" He asked.

"It was." Benny said quietly.

Benny didn't even wanted to think about it anymore, let alone talk about it to anyone. The things he have seen and endured in there, were enough to fill stories for a lifetime, but it isn't like he was gonna write a fucking book. No one would have understood it anyway! Not unless they had been there before.

In there, he couldn't count on no one but himself! In there, nobody came to save his ass if he couldn't. There were no friendships, no allies, only temporarily beneficial partnerships. The moment someone didn't have use for him, or he wasn't beneficial to their survival, he became a problem. And problems were dealt with fast and brutally.

The very few club members that were in also, showed no interest in comradery. Quite the opposite! They were the ones, who showed the least amount of effort, to collaborate with him. The club was a small little speck, a fly shit on a windshield, that had little to no value. The fact that he had been a member, was more of a problem, than a benefit inside. Some of the rival club members were just itching to stick a screwdriver or something resembling of a knife into him. Unlucky for them, he had no interest giving up the ghost in there. Better yet, he never found more reasons to live, than within those walls.

"You know, kid...some die in there, some kill themselves in there, and the few that comes out alive, come out worst than they went in. Or at least loose most of their teeth or a kidney. I see you still have yours, which tells me you did fine!" Vince said, trying to tug on the tension hanging there between them.

Fine wasn't the first word that came to Benny's mind. Fractured and broken bones, dislocated joints, few nights in the health ward on strong painkillers. But he sent quite a few fuckers there as well! A few who tried to mistake him for their whore, almost didn't came down from their painkiller infused dreams and altough, he did not, one dude surely lost his kidney, after he stuck him right in it, with his mocked up toothbrush, after he made a watered down effort of choking him from behind with his rolled up shirt.

He never had a pleasant or long sleep. Some nights he hasn't slept at all. He read a few books he had no interest for while being out. He learned to appreciate the wise words of dudes who he never met and was grateful that they wrote them down. He spent quite a lot of time lifting weights and working out. It was a form of anger management, meditation and survival training all at once. If he walked away with anything good, it was a clearer mind, and an almost unbreakable hold on his own anger and learning the hard way, that you can't count on no one but yourself! In or out.

"Is she alive?" Benny didn't even realised when the thought overtook his mind, let alone when he said it out loud.

Vince took a big breath, receiving what he had been anticipating all along.

This reaction caused Benny to feel terrified in his bones.

"Vince, is she alive?!" Benny asked louder and firmer, with a tight jaw.

"Yes, yes, she's alive kid. Calm down!" Vince glanced at him anxiously.

Hearing this out loud itself caused him to calm his nerves a little, but none of his anticipation.

"How is she?" Benny felt as the picture in his pocket was ready to burn through his jeans.

"I don't know kid!" Vince said carefully and was already nervous to add... "No one saw her in years."

Vince took Benny all the way home. When he opened the door to the tiny house that his parents left him, all he smelled was dust. There used to be a time when the house smelled of grilled cheese and perfume. Now he walked through the small, one story house that was still the same as he left it. Half empty, meaningless and without any signs of life.

He walked into his bedroom. Found the same clothes he left in the closet. All clean but heavy with dust, but he could not care. He retreated into the bathroom with a towel and took his first private shower in years. He sure as hell missed his privacy and not being rushed by any means. He cleaned himself off thoroughly and wrapped the towel around his waist. He wiped the steam off the mirrored cabinet and sniffled as water dripped off his hair onto his face.

He opened the cabinet and felt dizzy looking at the lowest shelf. Her hairbrush, lip balm and necklace was still there. He grabbed the tiny piece of jewelry with trembling fingers and looked at it like he found a miracle. Anger and fear caught his throat in a chokehold. He grabbed the sides of the sink and forced himself to breath through his nose.

It wasn't a week of knowing each other, when she first slept in his bed. She never left many things laying around in his house. She insisted not to impose herself onto him, into his life just after a few weeks of knowing each other. What she brought with her, usually took back to the farm. But Benny liked her stuff laying around. The smell of her inside the house, in his closet and the little bag full of her things, neatly packed on the side of the sink. It made the house more like a home, than an empty, lifeless place with walls, roof and a bed.

He stared at everything that he had left of her, except for the memories.

Benny didn't think the first thing he will do after being out, is fixing up his old truck. He'd rather fix up his bike, see how it's doing, but Vince took care of it while he was in, so that is at his garage. And he needs to go now!

He barely had enough gas to make it to the gas station, where he fueled it up and went into the town to the bar, which in the past never was his choice for a drink or the place where he would pick and choose the girl for a given night.

Robert's bar was still in the same state as it was the last time he drove by it. The red brick building was between a barber shop and a hardware store. As far as he knew, back then it was a peaceful place for old people having a glass of whisky or beer, while quietly chatting or reading a book or a newspaper. The clientele was on the older side of the scale. The people who came here didn't enjoy the life of fighting and fucking all night anymore. They did that twenty, thirty some years ago.

He couldn't say he really knew Robert. She did knew him well though. And she especially knew his wife, who was the nurse who tended to the wounds that her sack of shit father caused her on a regular basis. Once he came for her to take her back to his place, and Robert's bar was the place she told him to come to. The man wasn't particularly happy to let her leave with him. A Vandal. Which made Benny wonder – did he ever actually thought, that she will be safer in the house of his father where she just escaped from than with him?!

Benny didn't wear his vest. It was never lucky to wear it and he didn't wanted to instigate a fight with old people, who all they had to do to break a bone, is to slip on a wet bathroom floor. He wore his old black jeans and a wornout, more grey than white t-shirt. Both of them felt a little tighter now, than they used to.

Robert looked the same as he did back then. Middle aged guy with a well maintained greying beard, wearing plaid shirts. He was drying a glass with a kitchen towel when he noticed him walking in the door. The two fans above each end of the bar did nothing to chase away the fastly approaching summer heat. Two old men were sitting at the back end of the bar with a board that resembled a chess board from the distance and another guy sat at the bar, reading a worn out book.

"You came to the wrong bar." Robert stated firmly.

Benny raised his open palms to showcase his peaceful intentions.

"I don't want to cause any trouble!" Benny's voice was on the softer side of firm.

"That's a first, coming from a Vandal!" Robert said dismissively.

"I just came to ask..." Benny felt it harder to talk than usual.

"About Stella?" Robert bent under the bar.

"Yes." Benny deliberately walked slowly towards the bar, anticipating a shotgun coming up from underneath it. That would be the usual reaction. Even without the vest, his face was enough to setting people off on sight. He didn't blame any of them.

"She doesn't live here anymore. Her sister requested her to being moved to a better hospital in the city. After she became stable to move, they took her and we haven't seen her ever since." Robert kept pushing the buttons on the remote control to the tv above the bar. He turned it away from the sport channel and settled on one of the news ones.

Benny barely was able to swallow the rock that settled into his throat.

"But she is alive, right?!" Benny could hear how weak his own voice got, but he couldn't care.

"Well...my wife said, in the city she had better chances for a better and faster recovery. And she wouldn't have said it that way, if she thought, she will die because of her injuries. Apparently, she received such heavy beating, the doctors were afraid of moving her right away as her sister requested, because they couldn't tell if her head trauma caused her brain to bleed and since she was unconscious, she could not show signs or tell it. She had broken collarbone, broken ribs, fractured arm, at the minimum concussion as well." Robert maintained his weight on his hands that were on the bar.

Benny could not escape the judgemental gaze of the bar owner as he talked.

He understood it. But his judgment was misplaced.

"If my wife wasn't the nurse who treated that poor girl earlier than she met you, i would have thought it was your handy work! Or at least one of your good friends!" Robert said, taking a step back and flung the cloth onto his shoulder, picking up a case full of empty bottles from under the bar and walked his way towards the back corridor of the bar.

"I never hurt her!" Benny barely could hide his growl behind his words.

"Sure!" Robert left that up to Benny's conscience.

Benny sank down onto one of the worn out stools. His head and shoulders suddenly felt so heavy, like he was carrying tenfold of his own weight. He knew his own lies well. He never raised a hand on her. That is sure. But he hurt her in another way, that's for fure. The guilt he felt, made him question if he should be going around, disturbing the past at all.

Benny came to the Pit, because he felt obligatory to. All of the club members had thrown him a welcome back party. Lots of booze, lots of loud music, lots of pretty girls and some beautiful women for him to choose from. He still nursed the unopened beer between his hands, he couldn't hear the blasting rock n roll from his own, blank thoughts and he haven't had the energy yet to please a woman.

He expected he will feel energized by the newfound freedom that fell on him, but instead he just felt directionless, tired and more alone than he was inside. The club and the bar was the same, except for two people who got shot down for something that no one was willing to mention or discuss with him when he asked. To be honest, he didn't cared enough to ask again either.

If he looked around he saw the same things he saw five years ago. Drunk, loud, agressive bikers looking for a fight. The not so drunk ones looked for a fuck with one of the many girls and women who had not left town yet and were looking for a long night of fun. As much as he wanted to see and touch a naked women again, he craved a long night of sleep much more.

He felt a friendly slap on his shoulder which made him look at the direction.

"I've never seen a fresh out of jail man so miserable as you!" Johnny said.

Benny had not expected many words from the leader of the club, and was grateful that Johnny's quiet nature haven't changed. He was too tired for idle, mundane conversations and drunk people yelling near his ears.

"Sorry. Im grateful for this..." Benny looked around the bar. "Im just tired." He said, lighting a cigarette and taking a deep inhale of it.

"I've heard you visited Robert's bar." Johnny said curiously.

"Yes." Benny nodded and wondered who delivered this gossip.

"It is no good for nobody, if you going around, bringing up the past. Not for anybody in this town, not to you...not to her." Johnny nervously massaged his knuckles and glanced back at Benny, who's full attention was on him now. "She moved into the city. As i heard, she has a boyfriend nowadays. Some rich prick, running fancy restaurants." Johnny added with a frown. "She never belonged here. This town was always too small for the women in her family. Just...let her live the life that was meant for her, and you live yours as it was meant for you."

It took Benny a minute to digest all that he heard – boyfriend, fancy restaurants.

"Enjoy your freedom! That little blonde one in the corner seems really into you! I can't blame her, you bulked up nicely kid!" Johnny tapped his shoulder strong, and walked away as silent as he arrived.

Benny, knowing the night will get wilder and wilder with every single beer and shot, decided to end his own night earlier than the rest of them. Vince kept his promise and bringed his bike to the bar, so he could finally take it home.

"I kept it clean and running for you, kid!" Said Vince with a proud smile.

"Thanks." Benny glanced down at the bike with a wide smile.

"Hey...earlier i hit up the store for my usual dinner stuff." A series of heavy coughs interrupted whatever Vince wanted to say. "I heard some whispers about the farm being sold."

Benny instantly found Vince's gaze.

*

Stella felt the familiar haziness of the end of her sleep and the beginning of her awake state. It was rarely a pleasant feeling. She preferred to sleep nowadays, but her mind either kept her awake or dragged her out of the state of unconsciousness way too early than it was necessary. She sat up in the bed. For a minute she quietly listened to the noises of the awakening city coming from behind the closed windows.

She also heard the light, ever so audible snooring of Sebastian. He probably arrived back at their shared apartment around four or five am, as he usually did, when the busy night ended at the restaurant, and he had his fill of a busy evening. He had a few pleasant qualities that Stella was grateful for. He was able to move around in the apartment and the bedroom while Stella was sleeping without waking her up. Which was quite the accomplishment, as the slightest of noises and disturbances caused her to jump, even from sleep. He also was very hygienic, tidy, predictable, dependable and educated. Other women probably would have found more positive qualities in him and the rest would have been content with these already, but she never found these qualities nor his physical qualities attractive.

Attraction wasn't the reason behind this relationship. Stability, dependability, routine was. When she met Sebastian two years ago, she was most impressed by his controlled nature. His composure, his all around calmness and well mannered personality. He was eight years older than her. Stella appreciated his wisdom about certain things, his tendency and willingness to keep people at the same distance from himself, as Stella did with people in her life.

She also found him a little attractive back then. But this attraction faded really quickly. Only the rest remained. Stella did not felt obligatory to end their shortly started relationship, just because the candle was flung out by the slightest of breeze. She needed some stability. She didn't needed intense situations, passion and overwhelming emotions. So she learned to cope with emotional and so sexual disinterest and coldness from him and from her own self towards him as well.

She returned the favor of being quiet. She picked up her phone from her nightstand. The alarm bell was still fifteen minutes away from going off. She turned it off, as she usually did. Her naked feet clapped on the hardwood floor as amidst a big yawn she walked through the apartment, and made her way to her wardrobe room. The smell of the unwashed fabrics and plug in air refreshener mixed together.

Stella did her whole and short morning ritual. A big glass of water to empty stomach, picking the outfit for the day and packing into her bag. She opened the drawer of her desk. The subscription bottle was there. Still untouched and unopened. As usually she put it into her bag. It seemed to work out well as a charm. She had left it behind a year ago after finishing her therapy and haven't took a pill since then, but the thought of it just being there if any kind of shit hits the fan, was a comforting thought.

She retreated to the bathroom for a little while. The fast and barely warm shower that she took made her tremble a little, but at least she was now completely awake. She took a last, short look at Sebastian who took upon the sense of her disappearance, and took control of the entire bed.

She left the the apartment as she usually did – around 08:45. She found her Porsche in the apartment buildings underground garage and sank into the drivers seat, placing her backpack to the passenger seat. She headed to her favorite bakery to pick up her own breakfast and Lydia's coffee as well.

She opened her store two years ago with her partner in it, Lydia and it still was successful, which surprised her the most. She designed all of the clothes and accessories as well. There were well loved pieces that remained staples on the shelves, but every 4-6 months she designed new pieces and forged them into a collection. She loved designing. Playing with colors, fabrics, ideas and letting loose her imagination and madness onto clothes. It was a good form of therapy, and Stella needed that in every possible form.

She went through the dates of the in and out going orders, the fabric arrivals, the sponsorships they looked to make to get the brand name even further out there and also the most important thing on the agenda – getting the broken down air conditioner work again, before the end of May arrives and brings the heatwave with it. California is and will be California...

An hour before noon she left the store to get to her hairdresser appointment, at her sister's salon. When she stepped in, her sister was in fast paced and uplifted conversation with one of her guests that sat in her chair. Stella exchanged a glance with her and without a word sat down into one of the comfy lounge chairs beside the wall and waited for her own turn. She pulled forward her phone and scrolled apps and the internet meaninglessly, to distract her thoughts.

"Hey, you!"

Stella lifted her gaze upwards at her sister, Carly.

"Hop in!" Said Carly on her chirpy voice.

Stella sank into the chair and murmured quiet, one worded responses to her sisters questions and listened to her when she was able to hear her through the water running beside her ears as she got her hair washed.

Carly told her about their pool getting completely fixed and how expensive it is, their Golden Retriever, Buck who was forced into a diet by his vet and about her daughter Violet, who Stella visited when she was able to find the emotional strength to do so. She was not careless or disinterested in her sisters life. They just existed on completely different spectrums of everyday life.

"How is the...how's getting the farm to sale goin'?" Carly asked nervously.

"So far not a word from the realtor." Stella answered with disinterest.

She knew her sister wanted to hear none of that wretched place she couldn't wait to escape from into the city. None of them had good memories of it. Stella was the last person to want to handle the getting rid of the farm process, but it was left to her when their father had banned Carly out of their family, for not going to college and going away with her boyfriend, and walking her own way, and many other things he yelled onto Stella's head throughout the years about her own sister.

"Not a big surprise." Amanda shrugged. "Who would want to live as a fucking outcast in the 21st century? I suppose other than the people who are like mom." There was a hint of sadness in Carly's sigh, but Stella could see anxiety fastly creeping onto her sisters face.

"Just...let me know when you get an offer. I don't want you to go back there alone. I will go with you or send Marcus along, okay?!"

Stella nodded without a word.

Stella was used to all of the regularly scheduled communication circuits that she ran with her sister. Barely talking about their mother because it was too painful. Not talking about their father at all, because he deserved to be forgotten. Not talking about the town that they were born into, because they both left it behind with everything and everyone that was ever there. The last chain that still hanged onto heir back, or more so say, her back, was getting rid of the farm. And then everything is done and buried.

At least on the better days Stella was able to convince herself of this. On the bad days, she felt sadness and anger. On the worst days she felt even more sadness, anxiety, crippling fear, sorrow and longing. The rational part in her brain tried to shout as loud as it possibly could – it was only a month from the summer, it can't be as fundamental as you make it to be!

She instinctively regressed into her thoughts and memories, and that was the worst place to be at any given time, because with the memories came the wide variety of emotions, and she already found out the hard way, that she is not capable to withstand them. Because when they come, all of them are coming, all at once.

She lived a relatively happy life as a child. Her mother had a big farm that was full of horses. Her grandmother had left it to her mother. Both of them were in love with horses, but while her grandmother worked as a vet, her mother worked as a horse and horseback riding trainer. Her father, who was twelve years older than her mother and used to be a lawyer and worked up a substantial amount of wealth, married her after she got pregnant with her sister.

Stella shared her mothers love for horses and became a showjumper. She won at least a dozen ribbons in and out of state. She loved doing it. She loved the smell and sound of horses, and their peaceful, sensitive nature. When she came in from the stable and the horses, she sometimes catched her mother and father arguing, Carly sometimes shouting between them, try to make peace but it's almost always only escalated the argument between them. When she was around twelve her mother became ill due to ovarian cancer and she quickly passed away in six months, due to her refusing chemotherapy.

Her father refused to bother with the horses, and only kept the ones around that had still worth a lot of money out of the previously put in training by her mother. The ranch hands and the few people who used to work alongside her mother, kept training them until the horses deceased, retired or were sold for a price that was deemed worthy by her father - who knew nothing about horses. After the horses were sold, the ranch hands had to go as well.

Stella was devastated when both of her horses, and her mothers horse was sold as well, but soon she found herself craving to be sold onto better homes and trading places with her horses. Her father started to drink. The dinners spent at the dinner table started getting more tense every day, with her sister sneaking out, spending time with her then boyfriend who their father forbidden her to be with. Carly always had to have the upper hand, so she talked back, sometimes yelled. And when occasionally their father landed a palmed hand on her and later on even a closed fist, she talked back even more often and more louder. Eventually she packed a bag and left in the middle of the night with her boyfriend, only leaving her a paper explaining her reasons.

Stella was fifteen at the time. And she was left alone with her father, who learning from the lessons his firstborn dealt to him, kept a closer watch and tighter grip on Stella than he ever did on her sister. Stella wasn't allowed to have boy friends, only girls. She wasn't allowed out on week days. She wasn't allowed to have bad grades, she wasn't allowed to choose which college or which course she wanted to go on. Of course she was allowed to pick whether she wants to be a business woman, a lawyer or a doctor, but she wanted to be none of that. But given any other course she would have decided to take, her father wouldn't pay a penny for her education, nor her housing, nor her food and she wouldn't be allowed to stay in the home she grew up in.

She tried the same as her sister did. Protest. Yell. Cry. After the first attempt, she lost all courage to ever try again. When her father got heavily drunk on red wine or an expensive scotch, she didn't even needed to give him a reason to beat her into already found submission. He decided she glanced at him a way he didn't liked, or according to his taste she dressed like a whore, or she just wasn't able to sleep from the distress and the pain from the previous beating she took, so she fell asleep during class at school, which reached her fathers ears from her concerned teacher. Her father was so concerned with her humiliating him with this, he pulled out his belt.

When she got accepted to a college at the other end of the state, she felt a giant rock lifting off her back. She finally was able to move away from home. Even if she had to share a room with a girl or several who she never met, she would blindly choose them over her father. She enjoyed college a lot. The business classes were easy and she was able to get the best grades with attending the mandatory minimum of classes.

She got a job, and even found her first ever boyfriend in college. It only lasted for three months and she didn't really felt sad when it did ended. The second was with a guy who she worked at the cafe. She liked him. He read a lot, listened to decent music and sex was an improvement compared to her first experience. Then he got a job that paid better, and week by week they drifted away from each other. Stella just quietly and without a protest, accepted things as they were and moved on.

She only had to attend at home once a year, so his father could see and get the measure if and whether he spend his money wisely on her education. She never mentioned the fact that she was working as much as she could, so she will never be forced into a situation where she should have to consider moving back into town. The first summer she was expected to spend a month at home. Her father knocked her down so hard that she fell down the stairs, fracturing her arm and getting a concussion.

She could not stop vomiting and her headache was unbearable. Her father was way too drunk to take notice of this, and neither of the fact that she drove away from home, to the same person who always treated her injuries without having to admit her into the hospital.

Julia always treated her kindly when she found herself in the hospital with lies about stupid accidents, asking to be treated or for painkillers at least. After the first few appearances she quickly read the situation as unsolveable, so she gave her the adress where she lived, and offered to help her if she ever need any.

And she did.

The second summer she spent at home, would have been a month again. Only right away in the first week of summer, she was heading home from aimlessly driving around town with a book and a blanket on the front seat so that she doesn't have to stay in the house, when her car broke down in the worst places it could have - a few minute walk from the Pit. A bar that served as a nest for the town's biker gang, the Vandals.

And that was the place where she first saw Him. The handsomest guy she ever laid her eyes on – Benny. Sometimes she wished she never stepped foot into that bar, never got into a conversation with him, never accepted his help, never agreed to meet him again.

"Okay. You're done!"

Stella snapped back into reality by her sisters voice.

"How is it?" Carly asked.

Stella climbed out of the chair and checked her hair from every side and angle she could. All she asked was a wash and light trim of the ends, and that's exactly what she got.

"Perfect." She smiled at her sister thankfully.

"Then perfect. I can go to eat lunch now, with you and your pretty hair." Carly grabbed the broom to clean up the mess of her work.

Stella enjoyed a little bit of peace and sunlight at their favorite lunch place and listened to her sister some more, while not even touching her food, then she went back to the store to be present while the air conditioner got fixed. She arrived back at the apartment shortly after Sebastian left it. She could still smell his cologne lightly in the bathroom, when she took off her make-up.

She changed her clothes and walked into the kitchen. She put up some music and started to prepare her dinner. Opening the fridge she had found the same things on her shelf of the fridge, that she left there. Sebastian had a different approach towards food than her. So much that they had different shelves in their shared fridge for products and meals.

He preferred medium rare steak, she ate it medium well, which at he actively shook his head on the rare occasions they sat down to eat together, or went out to satisfy his adventurous nature of discovering new restaurants. He never was bothered by the tedious process of making a perfect beef wellington or a souffle, while she preferred to make simple and fast foods, posessed an enourmous sweet tooth and never refused her cravings on occasions she desired a fast food chain cheeseburger. He always drank wine or champagne to his dinner, but she never touched alcohol. He preferred to do his grocery shop strictly at certain places, especially his meats. While Stella didn't made such a meticolous process out of a simple grocery shopping.

One of their earlier dates he made her a perfect and creamy salmon tagliatelle, which hasn't left her memory ever since. She always thought he just tried to counter her very firm opposition againts seafoods, and it was a partial success. Then on a trip to Greece, he took her to a small, cosy tavern where she tried grilled octopus the very first time and she liked it. Then on another travel to Italy she tried squid ink spaghetti, which after she felt catastrophically ill for two days.

Stella heated up the grilled chicken breasts from yesterday, made herself a lousy salad and sat down in the window sill, watching the city's traffic going by under the building. Her phone's buzzing woke her up from her empty gazing. She put down her half empty bowl and walked to the kitchen counter. She lowered the volume on the music and took the call from the realtor.

"Hey, Stella, i was trying to reach you earlier today."

"Yes, im sorry, i was...really busy today." She recited her tired lies.

"In this case i have really good news. The farm is sold! A couple traveled here from all the way from Portland and without even try to bargain, they just said yes to the price that we were asking. They signed all the papers, so now it is only waiting for your signing."

Stella felt a little relief but it was gone in a second, and anxiety took it's place when she realized – she has to go back to town, to sign the papers. She wanted to say something, but every word caught and died in her throat.

"Stella...are you still there?" The realtor women asked.

"Y...ye...yes, i am here." She said when she found her voice. "I...i can be there tomorrow."

"Wonderful. Around what time i should be expecting you?"

"I can be there by...somewhere before noon." She said with a hint of nervousness in her voice.

"Okay. We meet at my office tomorrow." She said.

"Okay." Stella said quietly and broke the line up.

She also felt something in herself breaking.

Perhaps everything.

The pit of her stomach became heavy and full of pain. She ran from that small town, so she could escape her past. She vowed to never go back there. Ever. Because she knew if she did, she would die inside her soul, as well as in her body.

Again.

[feelmyskinonyourskin]

Drive [Car Sex Trope]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x AFAB Reader

Trope de Sept Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Car Sex situation 1. Characters bone in a vehicle. That's it. "You take Matt in a beat up rental car to a parking lot in Jersey so he can experience learning to drive. Things get steamy."

Warnings: SMUT/18+ (don’t interact if your age is not in your bio). No use of Y/N. AFAB Reader. Unprotected P in V, Oral (F receiving), Creampie.

WC: 1,701

AN: Thank you all so much for all the love during my September Trope event! It was fun, but I'm exhausted, so you probably won't be getting a lot of new stuff from me for a while after this. Writing 17 fics in one month was a lot. Thank you all again, it was a blast! I'm already churning up ideas for next year...

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*

“Brake is the left Matt, the left!!” you shouted, gripping at the dashboard as the car whizzed around the parking lot

“I know! I know!” he argued back, effortlessly spinning the steering wheel

“Do you?!”

“I’m blind, but I still know my left from my right!”

Being in a car in an empty parking lot with a blind man behind the wheel was maybe not your best idea, even if that blind man had enhanced abilities.

It all began a few days before, after several rounds of beers at Josie’s, of course.

“What do you mean you didn’t go to prom?” you asked Foggy, flabbergasted at his confession

“I asked the most popular girl in school and of course, she just couldn’t handle all my charm and swagger, so she turned me down and I just didn’t end up going.”

Thus sparked the discussion on normal teenage things you’d all missed.

“Well, I never knew the joys of having one of my parents teach me how to drive.” Matt commented

“Ugh that’s so sad.” you replied “That was one of the greatest joys of my teenage years. The day I got my license; stepping out of the DMV and getting in the car. All the freedom of taking your parent’s car for the first time, getting to go anywhere you wanted.

“I was doing that when I was barely 8. It’s called the subway.” 

“No, no. A car is so different! It’s just… I can’t even describe it!” you exclaimed, a little tipsy from too many pitchers of Heineken

So here you were, in an empty parking lot of a closed down Best Buy in a suburb in New Jersey, in the most junky rental car you could get. Determined to give Matt the experience he missed out on. 

The windows were rolled down so Matt could get a better 360 “view” with his senses. Only a few light posts were scattered through the parking lot. So fortunately, there wasn’t much to avoid. With no other cars or people around, Matt had total freedom to experience the thrill of learning to drive.

Your heart was thumping out of your chest with every turn and bump in the cracked pavement.

Honestly, it wasn’t because he couldn’t “see” out the windshield, it was because he was being his usual reckless self and driving how you imagined a teenager behind the wheel for the first time would. God, you suddenly felt sympathy for all the times your father took you out when you were 16 to teach you.

He hit the brakes hard with a screech, sending you flying towards the dashboard.

“What, what!?” you exclaimed

“Sorry, I’m still getting used to how touchy the brakes are. There’s a bunny.” he nodded toward the windshield

Sure enough, a rabbit came prancing along at least 20 feet in front of the car, totally oblivious to his not so narrowly avoided doom.

“I think that might be enough for today.” you groaned

“No! I’m having fun! Aren’t you?”

You narrowed your stare at him and crossed your arms, knowing he could sense all the tells of your body that fun was not the word to describe your feelings towards this experience.

“C’mon sweetheart, relax yeah? I really appreciate you doing this for me.” 

He leaned across the center console to give you a kiss. The car lurched forward as he pressed his lips to yours.

“Keep your foot on the brake, Matt!” you chided

“Alright!”

He sat back upright, maneuvering the gear shift into park and ratcheting up the parking brake.

“Better?” he asked with a raise of his brows “Can I kiss you now that the vehicle is safely not in motion?”

“Yes.”

A grin spread across his face as he leaned toward you once more, this time adding a firey passion to his kisses.

“Come here.” he said, lips hovering over yours, pulling you to straddle him

Pliable to his touch with only a few kisses, you slotted yourself across his lap easily, finding the hem of your sweatshirt and tossing it into the backseat.

His lips moved down your already heated skin, sucking and biting at your neck and collar bone. 

Just as you were about to release a lusty moan, your rear accidently bumped the steering wheel causing it to let out a loud wail.

You and Matt jolted apart, crumbling into a fit of giggles at the sudden interruption.

“You know, that’s another teenage experience I never got as a city boy” he murmured low, hand reaching up to stroke your face

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Sneaking out with my girlfriend and having sex in the backseat of my crappy car.”

“Matthew…”

“Parking lot is empty, no one around. We could roll the windows up and make it steamy in here…” 

You had to giggle at the thought, though he was right, as New Yorkers there weren’t many places to have a little fun outside the apartment where you wouldn’t get caught.

“Alright,” you agreed “roll the windows up and meet me in the back seat.”

That was always the joy of being in a relationship with Matthew, he never let things get stale or boring and always found a way to make any situation flirty and fun and sometimes, like right now, downright sultry.

He tossed his glasses onto the dashboard while you climbed through the gap between the front seats. He joined you, sitting side by side on the bench seat and resumed your makeout session.

“Matt…” you mewled as he traced his tongue along your neck and jaw

“I know sweetheart, I’ll take care of you.”

He slipped a hand behind your back to remove your bra, taking time to lick and suck each of your nipples as the fabric fell away.

Your skin tingled with every movement of his lips across your body. Anticipation of what was to come alighting a fire in your belly as you arched your back into his touch. 

He pawed at the fastenings of your jeans, desperate to get you bare for him. Obliging, you helped him remove your pants and kick off your shoes, leaning back to lay on the seat beneath you.

The upholstery of the worn backseat was not the most comfortable of sensations against your body, but as soon as his rough hands were kneading at your thighs and spreading them open, the nuisance of it left your mind.

Satisfied with the state of arousal you were in, he finally reached his hands to where you wanted him most, moving your panties to the side and dipping his head down towards your pussy.

“Oh– god.” your moan was strangled as he teased your clit with just a brush of his tongue

But he didn’t tease for long, grasping your hips and pulling you in one motion towards his mouth. Heat spread across your already warm skin when he finally licked a long stripe through your folds. Pulling you firm to his heated mouth to lap and suck, he let out a lowly moan against your core. It reverberated through you and sent a shiver up your spine. As he sucked and kissed at your clit, you could feel your orgasm blossoming beneath the surface. Growing steadily until he added two fingers into your heat, causing your climax to explode out of you.

With a cry of his name, you came apart. Matt continued to work you through it until you were a panting and sweaty heap beneath him.

He sat back on his heels as you watched, still too blissed out to do much, and removed his shirt as well. Your slick covered the satisfied smirk that spread across his plush lips. 

“You want some more, baby?” he cockily asked

A docile whimper was all you were able to squeak out, nodding your head as he freed himself from his pants.

He sat back on the seat and you clambered to climb on top of him, sinking his length into your ready cunt in one motion.

Your simultaneous moans reverberated around the cramped space. His length felt so perfectly filling, you were tempted to just rest there a while and enjoy the sensation. But the desperate whine that escaped his lips had you rolling your hips, drawing more moans from the both of you. He leaned back, head falling against the seat and eyes pressed shut as he got more and more  lost in the bliss of your body while you rode the both of you to ecstasy.

Both of your skin was damp and sticky and the labored breaths you let out between lust-filled kisses had the windows sufficiently fogged up, just as Matt requested. If anyone were to have driven by, they would’ve known exactly what was going on in that car.

Your fingers tangled in his dark hair and he shuddered at the feeling, causing his lips to part as he let out a shaky plea.

“Keep– please, that feels so good. God, please keep going.”

As he thrusted up harder to meet the already consistent rock of your hips, the steady rubbing against your clit was driving you towards the edge quickly. You trailed trembling fingers up his muscled chest, finding grounding by grasping his shoulders leaving white indents with your fingers as you clung to him. His pace became more erratic, a sure sign that he was just as close to the cliff’s edge as you.

One more breathy beg of your name from him was all it took to get you there. This orgasm hit you as intensely as the last. Your walls contracted around him until he couldn’t take it anymore either, spilling inside you with a low groan.

You both stayed there a while, panting and catching your breath as you came down. Disheveled dark locks stuck to his damp forehead as he pressed it against yours. His beautiful hazel eyes darted around as he breathed you and this moment in and held you close.

“Well I’d say it is sufficiently steamy in here.” you said in barely a whisper, causing a chuckle from him

“We should get back to the city.” he replied

“Okay” you agreed “but I’m driving.”