#the drivers are gonna have to be scraped off the floor to be put on the next plane 😵‍💫

[chaosinstigator]

so it’s a triple header with a sprint weekend in the middle… are yall trying to kill these people or😭

[bellyyearner]

Office life at 550+ lbs

Word count: 1061

Extreme obesity, mobility issues, work environment, feedee perspective

No gender mentioned POV

Being a working feedee is hard sometimes, especially when your gain slows down to a snails pace despite how much you've been eating. In the last 3 years you've only put on another 40lbs, but you have an easy job that pays the bills and allows you to live comfortably so you can't complain too much. The only part of this job you hate though, is the journey inside.

As you exit your car you can already feel the sweat forming between your rolls, it's been taking a few tries lately to stand up after swinging your hefty left leg out onto the concrete. You've even questioned if you should bring your car to the shop to check the suspension just in case your fat ass crashing back down onto the driver seat a half dozen times a day might be causing issues. At the very least you were thankful for your personal parking spot only being about 250ft from the elevator up to the office floor. Only 100ft from the buildings entrance and the cold AC running throughout the building.

And so you begin your slow pendulous waddle, thighs scraping against each other with every step, causing so much friction your jeans always have a distinct wear pattern only a couple weeks after buying them. One foot infront the other you waddle, repeating the laboured motion as your breath grows heavy and your belly slaps against the tops of your thighs. Halfway to the door now you hear the clicking of heels against the concrete, 2 interns whizzing by you without a word. You can't even imagine moving as fast as they do, or why they'd even want to move that fast in the first place. Your sense of urgency left you a couple hundred pounds ago.

Another 20 heavy steps later you reach the door, a mailman on the other side who was about to leave opens it for you, clearly staring at your mammoth size and brow covered in sweat. You make it inside and can barely catch your breath to say thank you before he's gone. The AC graces your hot sweaty skin and you feel relief, you spot your double wide chair HR had fought to get installed for you last year, and plop down on it with a huff. All there's left to do is catch your breath for a couple minutes, walk 60 steps through the lobby, turn right, walk 10 steps to the elevator, a minute of standing, and another 30 steps to your cubicle. Where you will then chow down on a couple snacks you brought and rehydrate before looking at spreadsheets and grazing on more food for 8 hours. A routine you had grown so accustomed to that it became second nature.

You look at the handle bar bolted into the wall and remember when you found it insulting, but now it was a necessity. Gripping the bar you start to stand hoping a second try isn't needed because of how many people were in the lobby. You can feel your heart quake and your knees whine but thankfully you hauled your lard laden ass off the seat in one attempt.

The second journey begins and the heavy waddle ensues, gut bouncing, thighs scraping, mouth open and breathing loudly enough that you're attracting attention. You try to ignore their stares but it's only fueling your appetite, already making a mental list of what you're going to grab from the vending machine once you get off the elevator. A few minutes later you round the corner and take the final few steps only to notice a sign on the elevator. You can't read it yet but you can feel your heart sinking already. It can't be right? They would've told you. They would've sent an email or a text. "Out of order".

Panic sets in, you can't climb 4 flights of stairs, you bought a one story house for good reason, you haven't had to climb more than a curb in years at this point. Your mind is growing frantic as you feel the burden your legs are under grow stronger, anticipating if you're really gonna be expected to climb the stairs.

Your phone buzzes, a text from Susy in HR

"Hey! I'm so sorry 'your name', this just happened like an hour ago and I totally forgot to tell you. The elevator is having some major issues and we don't know when it'll be fixed. I dug up that old paper work you filed 6 months ago about work from home and I'm gonna push it through asap! I've sent Lucy downstairs with a work laptop for you to bring home, just take a couple days off while we get all the paperwork in order."

Relief washes over you as you hear the distinct clicking of heels coming down the stairs. You steady your breath and try to seem unfazed, almost certain you look ridiculous.

Lucy: "Hey 'your name', here's your laptop and a cherry cola, figured you would need it before heading back to your car ;). You know I'm gonna miss seeing you around here, less stuff to talk about and no one to gawk at. You have my number so just let me know if you need me to come over to help you adjust"

A quick farewell and her heels were clicking back up the stairs, but all you could think about was how you're never gonna see the inside of that office again. With no where to go and no decency to be upheld there was no reason you wouldn't finally break 600lbs. You chug the Cola, wanting to make one final show for the coworkers and acquaintances you've made over the years, and start the final journey, one to immobility.

With a gassy belly swaying from side to side, your humongous thighs atop fattened lard laden calves carry you through the lobby one last time. Not even trying to hide your burps and groans you walk out of the building, skipping the chair by the door you once saw as a refuge. Thoughts of what takeout you're gonna get delivered and a quickly growing Walmart order forming in your mind as you slowly waddle through the parking lot one last time. All fueled by the dream of being an immobile work from home piggy

Part 2

[oatflatwhite]

lest I go unsheltered

buck & maddie siblingism, post 7.04 | read on ao3

The last time Buck felt this nervous about talking to Maddie, he was fifteen and had scratched the Jeep. It was a real good one too, paint and metal flaked off the driver’s side door, the panelling beneath dented enough to catch when you tried to close it. Maddie and his parents were out for the night, and it hadn’t taken much convincing from his friend Andrew for Buck to lift the keys from the bowl on Maddie’s dresser and take it for a spin. When he’d scraped the door while parking Andrew had climbed out, taken one look at the car and fled. It wasn’t the kind of scratch you could buff out and besides, he and Maddie had promised a long time ago to be honest with each other. They were on the same team, always.

But Maddie had loved that Jeep. Buck remembers feeling sick to his stomach, practicing what he would say to her. He’s pretty sure he threw up over it.

He hopes he’s not gonna throw up now. Maddie’s in the kitchen, pouring enough red into their wine glasses Buck probably shouldn’t drive after drinking his. Chim’s doing something with Albert tonight and Jee is asleep, had been already when Buck got over here. He’d poked his head in to check on her and brushed an air kiss over her soft curls, so as not to wake her, in case she felt a real one. He’d stood from his crouch to find Maddie watching them in the doorway, her head leaned up against the jamb. She was smiling softly. When she saw him looking she lifted her hand, tilted it toward her mouth. Wine?

Jesus, he’d need it. Buck had nodded and followed Maddie from Jee’s room.

She brings the promised glass out, unnervingly full, and sits across from him on the couch with one leg on the floor, the other tucked up beneath her. Buck flicks his fingernail over the thin rim of the glass, listening to the sharp ring of it, until Maddie sighs and reaches over and puts her hand over his to stop it.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, not exactly kindly. Not accusatory either, just—exasperated. Her eyebrows have climbed halfway up her forehead but when Buck doesn’t answer straight away they draw back down, then further still, until she’s frowning. “Evan?”

I scratched the Jeep, Buck had blurted, almost twenty years ago now from the top of the stairs before Maddie had even taken her key out the door. She’d looked at him that same way, eyebrows drawing together, face scrunching into a scowl as the words registered. She’d said, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me, and stomped back outside to take a look at the damage. She’d left her keys in the door.

Buck’s pretty sure she’ll have a different answer this time, but the words still stick in his throat. It feels like it did when she told him about Daniel, when everything in his life could be divided neatly down the line of before-I-knew, and after. He’s drawn a second line in his head without even realising it, but which side of it things are sitting on, he’s still figuring out. He’d taken Maddie’s Jeep to impress Andrew, was the thing, who had blue eyes and shaggy blonde hair and was always quick to smile, quicker, even, than Buck, though of course he’d only been Evan back then. C’mon, Ev, he’d pleaded, wide-eyed, glinting with mischief. He’d wound the windows all the way down as they drove, laughing, the sound carrying from the car and turning Hershey into something else entirely, something that clung at Buck’s heart and made him want to stay. At least, until two years later, when Andrew had gotten into Cornell and left Buck there, in Hershey, taking all the good things about it with him.

Should Buck have known, even then?

Maddie’s still looking at him. Buck wriggles his hand out from under hers and sets his wine on the coffee table. After a moment, she puts hers down too.

“I’m,” Buck says, and the word that should come after sticks in his throat. “Something—happened. I, um, I did something.”

“Oh-kay,” Maddie says slowly, drawing the word out like it’s two: Oh… kay. She brings her other leg up so she’s cross-legged on the couch. “Is it something bad? I don’t need to hide a body for you, do I?”

“What?” Buck laughs, a quick exhale through his nose. It’s enough to ease some of the tension in his shoulders and break Maddie’s face into a small smile. “No, nothing like that. Though I—I’m concerned that’s where your mind went first.”

She shrugs. “Chim and I’ve been marathoning Criminal Minds.”

“Ah.” He rubs at his mouth. “No, um. It’s not, like, a big deal, I guess. I mean—it is, but not—like that.”

“Okay.” She looks at him.

Buck had stayed at the top of the stairs until Maddie had come back inside. She’d taken a deep breath, slid her keys from the door, shut it behind herself and locked it. I’m really mad at you, she’d said, her voice level. And then she’d looked up at him, and sighed—maybe at the way he was clutching his hands round his shoulders. Maybe at the fact he hadn’t moved an inch since she got home. Maddie sighed a lot when she was here. At their parents, when they couldn’t go a single Sunday dinner without arguing. At Buck, when he spilled bright blue nail polish all over the carpet in her room. At Doug, over the phone, when she didn’t know Buck was listening.

She’d walked up the stairs and sat next to him on the landing. Their shoulders bumped together. But I’m really glad you told me, she’d said, then grabbed his head and scuffed her knuckles through his hair. You’re paying for the repairs, stupid. Which had been a lie, anyway.

Buck takes a breath. He lets it out all at once. Maddie’s looking at him steadily. “Tommy kissed me,” he says. “I kissed him back. We’re going on a date on Saturday and I. I think I like guys.” He swallows. “That’s, um, it.”

“Evan,” Maddie says, and then nothing else because she’s in his arms, hugging him. His hands come up to her shoulder blades, the wings of them beneath her sweatshirt, and he’s been bigger and taller than his older sister since his growth spurt when he was fourteen but right now it’s like that doesn’t even matter. She holds him like she won’t let go and that tiny knot of tension, that ugly scrunching of doubt that had been nestled in his chest—it releases. Of course, it seems to say. Of course it’s okay. Like Buck had been an idiot to ever think otherwise. Which—he’s often an idiot. Maddie loves him anyway.

“I’m sorry,” she says thickly, sounding suspiciously snotty where her face is pressed against Buck’s neck. “I don’t really know the right thing to say. I love you, Evan, I’m—so proud of you.”

Buck gives his own sniffle. “That works,” he manages to say, and then Maddie is pulling back, wiping at her eyes and under her nose. There’s a damp patch on the shoulder of Buck’s shirt, that she seems to use as a target when she socks him. “Ow. What was that for?”

“You’re an idiot!” She throws her hands into the air. “You were pulling—fucking—pigtails!” Each word is punctuated by another punch. There’s no weight behind them, and after the third Maddie sits back, takes a deep breath.

“Is this where you tell me that being mean to a boy isn’t the way to tell him I like him?”

“Seems like I don’t have to.” She presses her lips together, like she’s trying to still be mad, but it hardly lasts a second until her face splits into a smile. “Evan,” she says. “Oh my God. Okay.”

She leans over to scoop up their glasses of wine and presses Buck’s into his waiting hand, and they could be fifteen and twenty-three again, shoulder-to-shoulder on the landing of their house in Hershey. Twenty-seven and thirty-five, drinking wine on Abby’s couch. Twenty-nine and thirty-seven, sifting through a baby box of memories, stood just over the line between before and after. Although maybe Buck was wrong. Maybe there is no line—no clean way to divide a life that will always be messy, because that’s what life is, isn’t it?

Windows rolled down—nail polish on the carpet—a kiss you didn’t even know you wanted, until you did.

Maddie takes a big gulp of wine, and her eyes are sparkling, matching a smile that’s almost as wide as her face. “Tell me everything,” she says, and Buck laughs, and does.

[ln4bub]

Smut promp list: george russell

15, 18, 52

George was getting frustrated, you could tell. The way his jaw clenched with every movement you made, every sound out of your mouth. You had been teasing him all night, winding him tight, trying to get him to snap. The moment you walked into the bedroom to him getting changed you knew he'd be putting you through hell. Something about George in a suit always got you going, but George half naked in just those tailored suit trousers, the muscular skin of his back on display, did something else to you. You had tried very hard to convince him you could be a little late to dinner but he wasn't giving in. That was when you decided that you were gonna give him a taste of his own medicine tonight.

George had driven you to the event, something he knew would drive you insane. He'd taken off his blazer to ensure it didn't get creased as he drove, leaving him in his white button-up. Your hand had slid over his as he changed gear, your painted nails gliding softly over his wrist. You saw the way he swallowed at the touch, taking a deep breath and ignoring you. Your wandering hands didn't stop, slipping over his thigh as he drove, squeezing gently. Your fingers inched toward his crotch, your body leaning slightly over the centre console of the car. Your breasts spilled out of your dress at the motion, your fingers feeling his cock swell at the touch. He turns to look at you, lust blown eyes, leaning in for a kiss. Your finger comes to cover his lips, "Red lipstick sweetheart, no stains." You tell him, turning to get out of the car.

For the rest of the night you'd been teasing him: running a finger over his crotch under the table when Lewis asked him a question; 'accidentally' spilling champagne over your chest when you tried to take a drink; placing a hand on the arm of one of the Mercedes' engineers and winking at George as his fingers tighten around his glass. The last straw was your conversation with Lewis. George watched on as you rested your head in your hands across the table, squeezing your breasts together. Normally he’d let you tease him like this but the second Lewis’ eyes dart down to your chest he loses it.

George stands abruptly, the legs of his chair scraping across the floor. He. Was. Pissed. You stand up equally as quickly, George muttering an excuse about you feeling unwell before hurrying you out. His hand holds a vice like grip over your wrist as he practically drags you towards the car. He opens the door for you before slamming it shut and slotting himself in the driver’s seat. The only sounds come from the road as he drives in silence, seething at you. Eventually he speaks.

“Touch yourself.”

“I- what?” You stutter, turning to look at your boyfriend. “You heard me, if you’re so fucking desperate that you have to whore yourself out in front of my teammate then touch yourself right now.” He demands, never once looking at you. The tone of his voice sends a shiver down your spine and an ache between your legs. “Hurry up, we’ll be home soon.” He mutter, gesturing dismissively towards you with his hand.

You settle back against the seat, spreading your legs as best as you can. You pull the slit of your dress to the side and hike it up slightly, allowing George to see you have no underwear on. “You filthy slut, you’ve been naked under that dress this whole time?” He groans, his hand gripping the wheel tighter. You whimper softly as your fingers begin to rub circles against your clit. Your back arches at the contact, grateful for some relief from the ache.

George refuses to watch, death gripping the wheel as his trousers grow tighter. Your soft moans fill his ears, making him picture the way you look. Chest heaving as your head is thrown back, manicured hand between your legs. George’s hand reaches over and grasps your own, halting its actions. You whine at the loss, “You can’t cum without my permission,” George explains, pulling into the drive of your home. He parks the car before dragging your hand up to his mouth, his tongue flattening against the pads of your fingers. This time he maintains eye contact, his beautiful eyes staring you down as he sucks your fingers clean with a deep groan.

Without a word he gets out of the car, leaving you dumbfounded. He walks around to your side, opening the door and extending a hand to help you out. His hand slips around your waist as he leads you to the front door and lets you both inside. With a sharp hit to your ass, George sends you upstairs. “Strip and sit on the edge of the bed, no touching.” He demands, stalking to the kitchen as you scurry upstairs. You remove your dress, finding its hanger and slipping it back into the wardrobe. You perch yourself on the edge of the bed, grateful for central heating.

George clicks the door open, glass of water in hand. He places the water on your bedside table. He’d removed his blazer downstairs, leaving him in just the button-up and trousers. He rolled the sleeves of the shirt up before sitting next to you. “Come here darling.” George murmured, patting his lap. You lay yourself over his legs, allowing him to trail his hands over the bare skin of your back. “Do you think you deserve it my love?” He whispers, his hand smoothing over your ass. “Do you deserve for me to touch you after the way you acted?” You whine in response, shaking your head.

“No, I don’t deserve it, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have teased you.” You whimper, beginning to squirm in his lap. “You don’t deserve it you’re right. But I’m going to give you something anyway, because you’re still my girl.” He says, placing a kiss to your cheek as you turn your head in his lap. His hand lands on your ass with a smack, your legs clenching at the pain. “Thank you.” You whimper, burying your face against his trousers. “Thank you, what?” He asks gruffly, his hand pulling your hair back. “Thank you sir.” You whine as his hand lands once more on the other cheek.

Hit after hit comes, each followed by a meagre thank you. Tears escape your eyes as the ache between your thighs grows. There was always something so sinful about you being fully naked in front of a fully clothed George, your willingness to please him making his cock twitch. He taps your thigh, signalling for you to move. You take your usual position, stomach down and ass up as you hear George’s clothes hit the ground.

The bed dips as he rejoins you, gentle kisses down your spine as your pussy clenches. George’s tip runs through your folds, coating it in your arousal. “Remember what I said in the car.” George tells you before sliding himself inside you. Whilst George wasn’t particularly thick, the length of his cock always had you stretching for him, feeling him in your stomach as he bottoms out. Your arousal is so intense that he slides in and out easily, the sticky sounds of the two of you connecting fill the room. “You take me so well, made for my cock aren’t you my love.” George groans, hands holding onto your hips as he thrusts.

The slam of his own hips against your reddened cheeks sends pleasure shooting through your core. You moan into the bedsheets, practically screaming for your boyfriend. George yanks your hair back around his fist, “I want to hear what I do to you, moan for me.” He moans, sinking his teeth lightly into your shoulder at the feeling of your pussy around his cock. “I’m so close sir, please can I cum? Want it so bad, can’t hold it.” You moan, hands fisting the sheets. George’s hand slips from your hair to between your legs, stimulating your clit with his slender fingers as he slams into you. “Need to feel you, cum for me, cover my cock baby.” He whines, his head dropping into your neck.

The bed creaks with the weight of his thrusts, drowned out by your moaning as you reach your peak. The feeling is enough to send George over the edge. Pulling out he pumps his hand over his cock twice before shooting ropes of cum over your lower back. Your legs give out as his fingers continue to rub at your clit, your weight against his hand stopping the movement. After a few minutes silence George rolls over, collecting some tissues to clean you up. He reaches into the bottom drawer to get the aloe vera, massaging the cooling gel into your ass gently. You whimper at the feeling but soon relax as the bitter sting is dampened.

You chug your glass of water before curling up against George, his arms wrapping around you. You fall asleep as he strokes your hair, declaring his love for you in a whisper before he too passes out.

[valtsv]

we want to know about your near death experiences, please tell us of your near death experiences

erm. gonna put them under a cut in case it's too much for anyone lol (since it's kinda personal, i'm not going to pull my punches in describing how i felt, and i know not everyone's comfortable with discussions of death and near-death)

- took nearly 3 days to be born because my mom refused a cesarean and was nearly a month premature. don't know if this one counts because i was a baby but apparently they were pretty worried about my chances of survival towards the end and when i was born i was sickly and in a lot of pain for months.

- fell down the stairs multiple times when i was a kid, suffered several concussions and fractures and developed vertigo that gave me a phobia of heights i eventually grew out of. again not sure if this counts since i barely remember it but i do remember the feeling of cracking my head once and boy it's not fun. it's like cracking an egg but the egg is your skull. also remember having a lot of dreams of jumping off the top of the stairs and my consciousness separating from my body and watching it fall because of this.

- nearly drowned because i swam too far out to sea on holiday and got caught up in a massive tidal wave (it was the baltic sea in poland, on a very windy day, and i was 8 years old and an idiot). i'd just accepted that i was going to die stuck in this current i couldn't escape and given up on being afraid, embracing the cold dark tidal embrace of death, when the wave very gently set me down in the shallows and i was so at peace that i almost forgot to sit up and breathe. left a big impression in me. i did not tell my parents what happened because i was okay with it and didn't want to upset them or deal with them fussing over me or giving me hell for taking stupid risks when i didn't need it.

- got hit by a car on my bike and flipped over the hood. was fine except for bruises and scrapes but while in the air briefly freaked out and thought i could see a halo of fire around the driver's head (probably the sun shining through the rear window).

- nearly died of dehydration while infected with a very nasty bout of flu that kept me in bed for 2 months straight. i passed out on the floor of my kitchen while trying to lift a cup to pour myself a drink and would have probably at the very least ended up with severe complications if my cat hadn't wailed over my body until my mom woke up and found me lying there. while passed out i had this horrible nightmare that i was god reincarnated in a mortal body and got really upset because i didn't want to be responsible for the entirety of humanity because it was too much and i was only 15. was extremely relieved when my mom revived me and explained that i was just really fucking sick. ended up in hospital with an iv in my arm to prevent my body from shutting down on itself until the flu burned out enough for my own organs to stop fighting me.

- tombstoned off the lighthouse in the bay with some sort of friends and very fucking narrowly missed a shelf of rock that would have shattered me to pieces if i hadn't twisted out of the way moments earlier. as it rushed towards me i very much saw my life up to that point flash before my eyes and was really disappointed by how little i'd done with it. didn't actually do much about it for a while though because i was a depressed unmedicated teenager in a bad living situation. pretty sure that kid would be amazed by how far i've come since then though.

- pretty sure i only survived a bus crash because moments before it happened i felt this urge to stand up and did. if i hadn't my head would have gone through this metal bar on top of the seats and my neck probably would have been broken.

- got lost in a woodland area by google maps once and got so dehydrated from the heat and blood loss (due to trying to cut through thorn bushes when i got desperate enough to get scared) that i started hallucinating this shimmery figure i couldn't look at directly following me and chasing me every time i started to give up (somehow i just knew that letting them touch me would be very bad, but they didn't feel malevolent? i was scared but i didn't get the impression that they wanted to hurt me, just that it would be a consequence of letting them touch me). got rescued because i screamed so loud that some passing hikers heard and went in and pulled me out of there. again not sure if this one counts as near death but i was wandering in there for hours and felt like i was going to die.

[moosemonstrous]

Ghost Rider Magical Girl AU

yeah you read that right - check out the tag I'm just following the brilliance of @cicada-candy and @wazzappp

At first, Robbie thinks he must be dead. He drove straight into a wall at forty miles per hour, by all means he should be dead.

This is like the fourth time you’re having this freak out, the snake mutters, coiling around the steering wheel. It flicks the wipers on with his tail, the blades struggling to scrape off the black substance covering the windshield. A ghostly body slowly evaporates from the hood.

Robbie blinks. He’s on the other side of the building, as if he drove right through it. When he looks over his shoulder, through the miraculously intact rear window, all he can see is a solid brick wall of the warehouse.

See? The snake hisses. He sounds incredibly smug. Told ya it would work. I think you got them—

Just to hammer down how rarely the snake is right about anything, he’s interrupted by a loud bang on the roof of the car. It’s promptly followed by manic scratching, like the ghost is trying to claw its way in.

Well, shit, the snake observes. You’re gonna have to get out to deal with this one.

“Like hell I’m getting out.” Robbie turns the key in the ignition to start the car again, the engine rumbling to life with a shower of pink sparks on the dashboard, because this is his life now, apparently. When he tries to step on the gas, he ends up jamming the ridiculous heel of his boots into the floor. “These fucking boots—” He tries again, only for his foot to slip right off the pedal. “Come on!”

The scratching intensifies. It’s gonna take the paint off! The snake shouts, like that isn’t a mind-boggling event all of it’s own. Get the hell out and kick its ass!

“You think I can stand in these?!” Robbie nearly broke his leg running back to the car when the ghosts attacked him outside the auto shop. Just because injuries don’t seem to stick when he’s in this stupid fucking outfit doesn’t mean he wants to try that again, much less kick anything. Inches above his head, the ghost shrieks in rage.

How hard can it be?! It’s just shoes! Women do it all the time!

“Not without– training, or something!”

The next warehouse is only a few meters away, and Robbie is an excellent driver, but he’s not exactly flying under the best conditions right now. If he can’t control the car, he’s going to end up–

A set of hooked talons breaks through the passenger window, the half-melted ghostly face lowering itself down after it. His options rapidly diminishing, Robbie grabs one of the bedazzled white hammers he ends up holding after every transformation and throws it at the creature, hitting it right in the nose. It wails in pain, but doesn’t stop it’s torturous crawl inside.

Get the other hammer! Don’t just throw it, keep hitting it!

Robbie does. He’s dimly aware he’s screaming the entire time, the black blood spraying out of the ghost and onto his white gloves, but eventually the ghost goes limp. It gives one last forlorn moan before dissolving into nothing. Robbie waits a couple of seconds, struggling to catch his breath, before he risks sticking his head through the broken window to see if this was the last one.

No more ghosts. The night is quiet again, the colours returning back to their regular L.A. light pollution levels. He falls back into the driver seat heavily, chin against his chest, which puts him in the inconvenient position of staring right down at the pink fucking gem embedded in his sternum.

On top of everything else, why does it have to be this violently pink?

That could’ve gone worse, the snake slithers across the dashboard to audit the damage to the window. Don’t turn back yet, the glass will repair itself in a few minutes.

“Why can’t it do that when I’m normal?” he mutters. He doesn’t want to be wearing a dress for a moment longer than it’s strictly necessary.

It’s just faster this way, quit whining.

Just to add insult to injury, the gunk doesn’t disappear with all the other magical shit. At least it looks more like motor oil than anything else – it’s enough of a pain to clean it up every time without someone calling the cops because Robbie keeps leaving dark alleyways covered in actual blood. With a sigh, he reaches under the seat to retrieve the paper towels and the disinfectant. It’s easier if he wipes it off right away.

Someone clears their throat outside. The snake shoots his head up, instantly wary, while Robbie ducks down – the last thing he wants is for anyone to see him like this, ghost blood notwithstanding.

“Hi,” he hears, before the crunch of gravel closing in on the car. “That wasn’t half bad.”

Robbie turns back around just in time for a blonde man in a leather jacket to lean down to peer through his window. He looks remarkably unfazed by having witnessed someone hammer thin air into submission, although he does look a little surprised when he takes in Robbie’s whole… thing. He gestures for him to roll down the window, and Robbie does, mostly out of sheer confusion.

There’s a motorcycle parked a few meters behind him. How long has he been here?

“Uh,” the man takes a second to collect himself. “Damn, sorry, I thought you were an actual girl.”

Robbie’s going to grow an entire beard as soon as he gets out of here.

He’s a witness, the snake hisses. You need to get rid of him.

“Hey, now,” the man protests. “That won’t be necessary.”

“You can hear him?” Robbie asks dumbly, pointing at the snake. “Did you–see? All that?”

The man inspects his nails while he talks. They’re painted flame-bright orange. It doesn’t really fit his general biker aesthetic, and Robbie feels something like hope kindle low in his chest.

“I think you and I should have a conversation,” the man says. Then, as if a hilarious joke just occurred to him, grins and adds: “Magical girl to magical girl.”

[lamardeuse]

buried my hands in saffron

911  |    Buck/Eddie   |    Rated E    |    c. 4600 words

@911bingo prompt: Mutual Masturbation

The thing was, Eddie should have been ecstatic.

Three months ago, he had ended things with Marisol and sworn off dating again – because what was the point when you were never going to get over the big, beautiful gringo you'd been stupidly in love with for years? Four weeks ago, Buck had broken up with Natalia. And last week, after a marathon therapy session with Frank and a painful kick in the ass from Hen, Eddie had finally told Buck how he felt about him. He'd confessed, put his heart on the line. And Buck – well. Buck had been a little shocked at first.

“I wasn't shocked,” Buck said, looking to Hen and Karen for support. “You make it sound like I was some fainting Victorian lady with my corset laced too tight.”

“Fine, we'll pretend I didn't have to scrape your jaw off the floor,” Eddie said, skewering Buck with a look and grinning when he blushed.

“I wasn't shocked,” Buck insisted. “I've done stuff with guys before.”

“A lot's changed in the last decade, Buck,” Hen drawled, taking a sip of her wine.

Eddie's eyebrows shot up. “A decade, really? Also, how do you know it's been that long for him?”

Hen chuckled. “I keep forgetting you never met Buck 1.0. The day he found out I was a lesbian, he made a point of letting me know he'd kissed two guys in college and gone down on this really hot truck driver when he was hitching a ride to Montana, said it was – and I quote – ‘some Jack Kerouac shit'. I threw up in my mouth a little.”

Karen covered her face with her hands to muffle her laughter. “Geez,” Buck muttered, “see if I ever open up to you again. And it's been nine years, not that I'm counting.”

“If I never hear about your blowjobs again it'll be too soon,” Hen said. Pointing a finger at both of them, she added, “Fair warning.”

“Oh, hell no,” Eddie said, “you do not need to worry about that.” Even the thought of sharing graphic details of his sex life with his friends was horrifying.

“Not that we've –” Buck started, and Eddie glared him into silence.

Karen leaned forward. “Okay, so after the shock wore off, what happened?”

Hen raised her eyebrows at her wife. “Look who's nosy.”

“Listen, they're family now,” Karen said simply.

“And that means they don't owe us the details.”

Karen rested her chin on her hand and batted her eyelashes at Eddie and Buck. “No, you're right, they absolutely don't.”

Eddie glanced at Buck, who was biting his lip to keep from smiling. “You want to know who kissed who first,” Eddie said, mouth curving.

“I mean,” Karen said, “we might have a whole five dollars riding on it, so that would be –”

“Oh please, we do not, I thought you were joking –”

“I never joke about probability,” Karen retorted. “And the odds are definitely in my favor here –”

“Uh,” Buck said, raising a hand, “I think you're both gonna end up winning. Or losing, depending on how you look at it.”

read the rest at the AO3

[seriously-mike]

Elephant on the Road

or, How I Had To Re-Learn How To Drive After Two Decades

As you know, my father died over a year ago, leaving not only his apartment with a fully-stocked fridge, but also his car - a 2000 Nissan Patrol, at that point disassembled and split between a mechanic and a body shop, with the extensive repairs paid only halfway. A year later, it was finally put back together, with 3/4s of the drivetrain replaced, the frame rust-proofed and a new coat of Raptor finish in graphite color. Then, it stood at the local parking lot for five goddamn months before I got the courage to get behind the wheel and drive it.

So holy shit, there I was, trying to wriggle a two-ton War Elephant out of its parking space, some guy's shiny new Mercedes to the left, three trucks behind me and zero knowledge how the whole thing behaves - acceleration, braking, turn radius, I knew fuck-all about that. But, with some slight fettling, I got out of the parking space, out of the parking lot's gate and OHMOTHERFUCKERITURNEDTOOHARD. Literally, I turned the steering wheel too hard, jumped the curb, ran over the remnants of a decorative fence all of four inches tall and swung the car back onto the road in the initial stages of a heart attack.

Fuck. And I mean, FFFFFFFUCK. Turned out that the two-ton War Elephant has really nice power steering for a beast slightly more than half my age and I need to turn gently. So, down the street I go, letting the pedestrians cross the road as they have the right of way on crossings without traffic lights, the brakes aren't that bad either, the soundtrack from Brutal Legend is blasting from the radio because my dad bought one with an USB port long ago and then asked me to make a thumb drive with his favorite songs on it (which I, sadly, failed to do), I'm GOING. Baby, am I going. But then, I have to turn into the large avenue and I'm all kinds of afraid what's gonna happen then.

So, apparently, the first rule of the road is "act like everyone else, and nobody will suspect you don't have a driver's license" (I actually do, for the record, I just didn't have a car for the last two decades and the last one I had to drive was a rusted-out fifth-gen Nissan Sunny with a busted manual gearbox that had issues with switching gears). So I'm rolling down the avenue, regulation 50 per (km/h, mind you), and I haven't even killed anyone yet. I'm even using turn signals, correctly, because the War Elephant has an American dashboard with two separate turn indicator lights so I know whether I'm flashing left or right. So, off to the right lane and I tuuuurn right into another avenue.

Much to my joy, I see a "Speed Limit: 80" sign on the overpass (this one is a part of the large transit road through the town), so I floor it. I floor it so eagerly to keep on the tail of the guy before me that I go all the way to 100 per before noticing and gently slow down back to 80 before hitting the tunnel.

I fucking knew I forgot something, and that something were the headlights. Halfway into the tunnel, I turn the headlight knob, swearing and hoping that no undercover cop car saw me. Okay, now we're driving 100% legit, only one car honked at me, no hits, no scrapes, I stay in my line like a motherfucking tram. Off a roundabout that isn't a fucking roundabout (who even named it like that?!), down another street and after some more uneventful ride I arrive at my dad's former apartment to pick up some junk from the basement. Hell, even parallel parking was easy because someone was nice enough to leave a car and a half's worth of space between the two already there.

I forgot to turn off the lights, as you can see in the photo, because I'm a derp and I haven't figured out what the incessant pinging after turning the engine off meant. So I take the photo, notice the lights on, open the car again, turn the lights off and head to the basement to pick up the junk.

Coming back was a bit more difficult, mostly due to me being unable to tell which of the three turns left was the correct one (note to self, it's the third one, the largest), but it resulted in an "always wanted to say that" moment when some absolute fuckwad decided to cut from the right lane all the way to the left and up the overpass, prompting me to go "Turning left from the right lane, you unschooled dickwad?! Last time I've seen idiots like you in Night City!"

[thatonegirlonhere]

Fruits basket boys reactions to you getting overstimulated

Yuki, kyo, hatsuharu

Fluff

Yuki:

You stand behind him ears pounding with all the noises feeling like they are getting louder and louder trying to hold back tears as you slowly shuffle over to yuki and tug on the lower hem of his shirt and he turns around at you smiling but can see something is wrong as his smile slowly fades. “What’s wrong love?” He asks quietly bending down to your level “can.. can we go please” you say as he slowly he realizes the situation at hand. He turned back around to the people he was talking to. “Sorry guys but I think it’s about time for me and y/n to head out, thank you for the lovely party” he takes your hand gently rubbing circles on it with his thumb as he walks you out of the event and to the car. He opens the door for you and you slide into the passenger seat and he walks around the other side to the drivers. “Are you alright?” “A bit Better now” you say shakily.

Kyo:

Kyo is laughing loudly with his friends as you sit a couple feet away from him breathing heavy feeling extremely irritable and overwhelmed with all the bustling noises and people rushing around. You’re holding back tears, refraining from asking kyo to leave because you can see him having such a good time (which is rare at things like this) you bring yourself to stand up and suddenly someone just barely grazes your shoulder and you nearly crumble to the floor. You run off into an empty hallway covering your ears as tears stream down your face and can hear the muffled sound of someone calling your name until two hands wrap around your wrists to try and pull them off your ears. “GET OFF” you scream as he steps back. “Y/n it’s just me, breath kitten” the tears are pouring out now as he slowly moves closer to you. “Why didn’t you tell me you were getting overstimulated, we could’ve left so much sooner” you look up trying to wipe away the tears that just keep falling “you were having so much fun and I- I didn’t want to distract you and ruin it” “y/n, listen to me. Nothing is more important to me than you and how you are feeling. It wouldn’t matter if I was having an amazing time or a horrible time, I would drop everything to help you and make you feel better. Let go home” you nod your head as he helps you to your feet and takes you out a back exit rather than forcing you to walk through the loud crowded room again.

Hatsuharu:

You, hatsuharu, shigure, yuki, and momiji are sitting in a booth at a restaurant. You can hear the clinking of every glass, forks and knives scraping on plates, the loud chewing of what felt like every single person in the entire restaurant.you start to get dizzy and tap hatsuharu a thigh under the table and text him even though he’s right next you you.

Y/n: Im sorry but can we please leave, I’m not okay right now

Hatsu❤️: what’s wrong princess?

Y/n: it’s too much, can we just leave

Hatsu❤️: yes love

Hatsuharu clears his throat and starts to stand up. “Sorry guys, look like we are gonna have to head out early. Just got a group text from y/n’s parents that they need help with something in the house. If we don’t go now I know I won’t hear the end of it and will be dealing with them bringing it up every time we see them for the next 6 months. “Aright then, we will have to do this again another time” shigure says and hatsuharu puts a 20$ bill on the table and leads you out of the restaurant. In a whisper voice you say a quick thank you with your head down staring at your shoes as he walks you through the parking lot and helps you into the car. “Thank you for telling me” hatsuharu says as he starts to back out of the parking spot.

[leastlikelytoachieve]

The Boy is Mine

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!Reader

Description: Y/N is attending a gala with her boyfriend, Bruce Wayne, when some girl tries to get touchy feely with Bruce. Y/N just wont stand for it.

Warning: Maybe some bad grammar, slight language, extreme jealousy and self loathing

A/N: Just a little scenario that popped into my head while I was at work this evening. Had to put it into words. Hope you enjoy. Also, "To love and to be loved. Chapter three" will be up on Monday so be on the lookout for it. Anyways, enjoy the story!

Revulsion: a sense of disgust or loathing. Also known as what I felt to see her smiling that coquettish smile at him. Trying, and failing, to place her poorly manicured hands on his bicep. Bruce is kind, he removes her hand gracefully. Anger burned my body as I tried to politely listen to the story being told to me by the girl next to me, Rachel or something… “So that’s basically when I felt like it was all over, ya know?” I nodded and hummed as a response. My eyes still trained on the girl trying to catch a moment of Bruce’s attention. I blinked and looked back at Rachel, “I’m sorry, will you excuse me? I just have to deal with something?” I didn’t wait for a response as I walked over to Bruce. His smile got wider as we locked eyes. I reached my destination, carefully linking my arm with his. “Hey everyone, sorry I’m late to the party.” my eyes scanned over the group, offering them a smile. Finally, my eyes landed on her, her previous doe eyed smile had turned into something twisted, jealous. I offered my pearliest, fakest smile. Her returned smile was not so inviting, if I wasn’t putting on a show, I might have laughed in her face. “I’m Georgeanna…model.” She stated her profession as if it would intimidate me, extending her hand for a handshake. I glanced down at it, my smile faltering only a little. “Y/N…Germaphobe” I felt Bruce suppress a chuckle next to me, I continued “Are you new here, Brianna?” she rolled her eyes. “It’s Georgeanna”

“Gesundheit. So, what brings you to Gotham, Santana”, her face burned bright red as she stepped towards me, pointing her finger in my face. “Okay listen here you little bi-”

“Okay, you're gonna wanna get your LEE press ons, out of my face. And KEEP them off of my boyfriend’s 8,000 dollar suit” she scoffed, not backing off. “Your boyfriend, huh? That’s cute. The richest man in the room, with the street trash?”

By now, almost the whole attendance of the gala was watching the catfight. Unfortunately, I am stubborn and unrelenting. Taking a few intimidation tactics from the “Vengeance Playbook” I took slow steps towards the brassy bottle blonde as I spoke “Listen to me, Solana, and listen closely since you seem to be confused, he belongs to me, the boy is mine.” Before I knew it, her drug store nails were scraping down my face, one of them popping off of her finger and landing on the ground. Astonished, I reached up to my face feeling a tiny bit of warm liquid come away on my fingers. Rationality and mercy left my body as I balled my fists and leapt towards the woman, only to feel familiar arms wrapping around my waist right before my hand connected with her face.

“Okay, that’s enough. Come on. Let’s go home.” Bidding his audience goodbye, Bruce offered me his arm and escorted me out of the gala. I held his arm all the way to the car. In complete silence, I relished in his touch. The gentleness that he only shared with me. Opening my door, he waited and made sure I was completely inside before shutting it and making his way to the drivers side. Sliding into his place, he rested his hand on my knee. I looked around the car, the sheer expensiveness of it, my eyes moving from the fine details of the car to Bruce’s suit. The kind of fabric I could only dream of as a child. Finally, I took in my own attire. A floor length, midnight black gown that Bruce had bought me for tonight. Bruce had bought me. Tears welled in my eyes as her words replayed in my head. “The street trash” her condescending laugh on a loop in my ears. Turning my head to look out the window, hoping Bruce wouldn’t notice the sudden shift in my mood. But he did. He notices everything.

“Hey. hey. What's wrong? Look at me” he reached over, placing a finger under my chin, turning my head to face him.

“She was right. I am street trash, Bruce. I mean, I work my ass off every single day, just to make ends meet and sometimes, it’s not enough. Did you even see the place you picked me up from today?” A sob escaped my lips, forcing me to take a pause in my unburdening. “This isn’t a fairytale, Bruce. This is real life. I am not Cinderella.” he sat back in his seat, brows knit together. “No. you’re not Cinderella. You are Y/N.” I scoffed, about to cut him off and say something along the lines of “oh, well isn’t that special?” but he continued. “You are a breath of fresh air. You are beautiful. You are kind. You are stubborn. You are funny. You are so smart. You are mine. You are everything I didn’t know I needed.” By the time he finished, I was sure my mascara had painted my cheeks. I furiously wiped my eyes and leaned over the middle of the car, bringing Bruce Wayne into a desperate, passionate kiss. Pulling away, I closed my eyes, wishing to live in this moment forever when the sound of his voice pulled me out of my dreamstate. “Move in with me.”

[fictionalcharacters4life]

Comfort

Word Count: 2,784

Status: Not Requested!

Fandom: GTA Series- GTAV

A/N: Love me some Trevor, so why not?

Relationship: Trevor Philips x GenderNeutral!Reader

Summary: Going out on a mission partnered with Trevor is one thing, but forced to go into hiding during a huge mission and a snow storm? A whole other level. And it never helps when your staying in barely-able-to-stand-on-its-own hotel apartments with minimal necessities. Great.

Warnings: language, age-gap pairing, blood mention, typical Trevor horniness, criminal activity, wounds, pretty fluffy honestly

Masterlist Grand Theft Auto Masterlist

(not my gif, credits go to @tendersugarr}

The truck leers to the side, tires screeching, and speedometer reading only Trevor’s standards of “normal.” The other cars, not so far away, keep up the pace, edging ever closer to the ass end of the red pickup truck. As the truck makes a hasty turn, it takes everything in your power to stay grounded, or hell, even on the back of the truck. “God- dammit- Trevor!” you yell out in frustration.

“Oh sorry, I forgot to warn you that you had to hold on!” he answers, giggling just to add to your growing anger.

“If you want me to actually hit the targets then stop fucking around! I have no problem in letting them toss your ass over the mountains!”

“Sure you would Sweets...”

“Don’t tempt me,” you warn sternly, properly getting back into position on your knees, the bitingly cold wind stinging every part of your body. You duck just below the back door of the truck’s flatbed, temporarily protecting you as you take a deep breath. Breathing slowly, you move, head coming up just enough to aim and fire, your sub-machine gun doing the rest of the work for you. But, just like before, Trevor makes another sharp turn, jarring you momentarily and smashing your head into the side of the truck. Shit.

This time, you don’t even give Trevor the satisfaction of complaining again. Pissed off now from the pain and the annoyance of the undeterred enemies, you stand up bravely, positioning your legs, spreading them to keep you balanced even as Trevor makes slight -or drastic- maneuvers around ongoing traffic. Without a shed of anxiety, your body floods with adrenaline, shooting and never letting go of the trigger.

You nail the car up front, a clean shot to the drivers head. The car then smashes into the car beside it as the car runs off balance, the two going straight for a curb into a wall. The crash, shocking the men chasing us, makes the car veer off momentarily. But, as he goes to correct himself once more, jerking the steering wheel to where he wants to lead the vehicle, the high speed causes him to skid out, once more turning, but landing into another car, not enough to cause any serious damage just yet. It’ll give ‘em some time to take out the motorists. And so, turning your attention to the motorcycles on either side of the road, you take them out with your gun, the rain of bullets being too much for a slower bike.

Taking this as an opportunity, Trevor presses his foot all the way on the gas, booking it. Due to the withdraw of your adrenaline high, you lower your gun in a way that catches your side, hissing as the pain becomes suddenly overbearing. Lowering yourself the floor of the flatbed, you lean your back against the glass, and clutch your side. This is going to be a long ride. Unfortunately, for you, it was. 

Having drove a long way from Michael’s condo in Sandy Shores, Trevor and you had led the rivals away from Michael and Franklin long enough to steal the money. Settling somewhere in the mountains of the Grand Senora Desert. Huffing, Trevor puts the car in park after slowing on a discreet side road. “Ya gonna get in the car or just sit in the fucking back all day?” he asks with his typical teasing nature.

By now, your vision is a blurring mess, having lost too much blood from such a simple scrape. Checking yourself, you lift your shirt lightly, noticing that it was just a graze, no actual damage. Nodding, you do not answer the man in the driver’s seat, just simply dragged yourself onto your feet, placing both hands on the side of the truck bed to steady yourself. Hopping off the edge, you stumble clumsily, but manage to open the passenger side door and climb in, a massive headache swarming inside your skull.

Settling into the seat, you put the seat belt on, close the door, and look out the window, still currently pissed at Trevor. Although unnoticed by you, he saw the red hue dying your already tattered white t-shirt. Luckily, he seemingly got the picture, not pushing the rest of the ways over to where Michael, Lester, and Franklin were currently hiding out: an abandoned warehouse in Backlot City. Indulging in the silence, you doze off peacefully, whether it was blood loss or sheer exhaustion, you paid no mind.

///

As the car came to a park, Trevor punches you in the arm, no shed of care laced in the force of it, in order to wake you up. “Dick,” you mutter, rubbing the sore spot childishly.

“That’s what you get for getting your drool all over my leather seats.”

“If that’s what you call 20-year-old seats with the cushions ripped out and stains decorating it, then yeah, I drooled all over your ‘leather seats.’”

Walking into the the garage doors of the warehouse, you are instantly greeted by Lamar, Lester, Michael, and Franklin screaming at one another, having walked straight into an already full-blast-argument. 

“That’s fucked fool, and you know it!” Lamar yells at Lester, not enjoying the current proposition made.

“It’s the best we got!” Lester exclaims, getting out of his chair with a clack of his cane.

“What’s going on?” you ask quietly, the men instantly silencing and taking in the new figures that joined them.

“We were just discussing what we should do now that you’ve made a show out of what I specifically described as ‘dangerous, don’t fuck it up!’” Lester says instantly, pissed at the predicament.

“Woah, woah! What did we do?” Trevor finally pipes up, walking past your form to get in better view and proximity of the team.

“Oh! I don’t know! Maybe since your so fucking psychotic, you decided it would be fun to take a tour around town!” Michael screams, placing the blame on Trevor.

“It got you out, didn’t it?”

“That’s not the damn point!”

Zoning out as the men continue to bicker, Lamar and Franklin create some distance between them as they go to stand beside you. “Damn, Y/N/N, you look like you got into some shit,” Franklin says worriedly, taking in your disheveled clothing, blood stains, messy hair, dirt and grim decorating your skin.

“Just part of the job...”

“Not really,” Lamar mumbles, taking you by the hand, “Let’s check it out before you come up dead.”

“Gee, thanks L.”

Giggling, Franklin and Lamar lead you to a different room, instructing you to sit on the table as Lamar goes to get the med kit in the corner. Handing it off to Franklin, he instructs you to lift your shirt, the blood an alarming attraction as you lean over cock-eyed in order to alleviate pain. Giving in, you slip out of the armhole, hand coming underneath the shirt to lift it completely to one side, your ribs at complete view.

“Oh shit, that shit’s nasty,” Lamar fake gags, covering his mouth with his shirt and making a swift exit from the room, back to the other men.

“Pussy,” Franklin quips, stealing a giggle from you.

Making quick work, Franklin wipes the cut with alcohol, the cut being quite deep, but just enough to not require stitches. Explains the blood, I guess. Once completed, Franklin nods awkwardly, moving away to put the med kit back and walk out of the room. You soon follow tiredly, finding the guys to now be settled in a way. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Since I was behind the screen rather than in person, I am not much of a target. Franklin, Lamar, and Michael were on the street over when you and Trevor supplied a diversion, so they’re not much of targets either. As for you two, however, you are targets! ...That is, unless they didn’t see your face?” Lester asks.

“I know they’d seen me, I can admit to that, but I don’t think they saw Trev. He was driving while I was shooting and shit on the flatbed. Those guys got pretty close too.”

“Well, in that case, that means you guys have to go into hiding, go off the grid for a little bit. Now- before you start your shit- I also suggested the guys do too, no one really knows if there were security cameras or snipers? We didn’t get that far, is what I’m saying. I’ll do it too if it makes you feel better,” Lester coaxes.

You’d know what hiding did to a person. Shit, look at Trevor. When he lost Michael, he was forced to go into hiding all alone, and now he’s teetering off the deep end slowly. Asking the question for him, you side-eye Trevor before asking, “How long and how many people each?”

“Glad you asked. I’m saying about 3-4 weeks, they’re big business people. As for how many people, I suggest pairs of two, that way, if shit hits the fan, you have another person to rely on. And, of course, me at your disposal. But, it’s not required either. If you want to stay off by yourself, be my guest.”

“Great, in that case, I’m going home. The wife and kids haven’t decided to move back in yet anyway, so if someone breaks in, I’ll be able to hide,” Michael says, grabbing his coat and starting to zip it up as he enters the great cold abyss of the outside world.

“Me and Frank can stick together too.”

“Yeah, Lamar can crash at my new crib, there’s enough space,” agrees Franklin.

As the pair leave, Lester sits back down in his rolley chair, Trevor staring at the ground with you beside him. “I know it’s gonna be tough Trev, but you’re gonna be fine. No one’s dead this time, we’ll all be here when the heat dies down,” Lester tries to reason with him, Trevor’s closed off demeanor slightly scaring him. Looking at you for assistance, you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, but giving in.

“Let’s go Dickhead, we’ve got places to be,” you say, pulling the back of his sweatshirt’s hoodie, going to put yours back on as well.

Snapping out of it, he looks at you surprised before his signature grin appears once more, “I knew you couldn’t resist me, Doll.”

“Don’t flatter yourself and get in the car, I’m freezing my tits off already.”

Chuckling he quips with, “I could change that for ya,” followed by a punch in the chest as you walk around the front of the truck, entering in the passenger seat. This is going to be a long ride.

///

Upon signing into the old rundown motel, you were gifted with being stuck in a one bed, one bath, small apartment with barely any fluent running water or even proper heating and conditioning. The heater was old, so when you sent off for the shower, you tried to tinker with it the best you could. It didn’t work. With a stutter and a pop, the heater broke, not even a slight breeze of heat radiating from it. “Fuck!” you scream, irritated.

“Hey, hey! Calm down sugar lips! It’s just a heater!” Trevor laughs, clearly amused at your distraught.

“Our only heater,” you spit, the cold already settling into the small 4 walls of your room.

“You’ll be fine,” Trevor starts, edging you right towards the start of another argument.

“I’m getting in the shower, go entertain yourself before I choke your ass.”

“Want me to join ya?”

“No!” you yell, slamming the bathroom door, which rattles the apartment, and lock the door.

Once you felt refreshed enough, you walked back into the main room in sweatpants, tank top, sweatshirt, and socks that rode up your shins. It was your only resort for now, it would just have to do.

“Hey Trev?” you ask.

“Yeah?” he responds nonchalantly.

“Do you think we could go to a different motel tomorrow? I can’t make it a few weeks here... let alone a day.”

“We could try, but there isn’t many that are as secluded as this one.”

“That works for me,” you say smiling as you perch yourself next to him on the bed, sticking to your side, and yanking the covers up to your nose. Sheets, you sneer.

After a while, the sun sets, and you’d ordered a pizza, the pitch black having escaped into your room through the blinds. Flipping on the lamp, you look over at Trevor. He’d stayed silent after you last spoke to him about switching motels, and since then, he didn’t complain, or crack a joke, or even make dirty analogies and comments. Something was off, but you quickly rid the idea as he looks over at you with a soft smile. Maybe he was at... peace?

You smirk back at him, getting back into bed after grabbing a drink. “You gonna keep staring at me or you gonna tell me what’s going on in there?” you ask, pointing at Trevor’s forehead.

At first, he stiffens, trying to give an excuse of “being tired,” but after reading your expression, he knew he had to come up with something better. Staying silent for a few more moments, he eyes the TV again before speaking, “When you asked about switching motels, you said ‘we.’ As in the both of us.”

“Yeah? That’s what the word ‘we’ typically means?”

Rolling his eyes, he side-eyes you sarcastically, “What I meant was why? You didn’t have to go with me, but you did, and now we’re stuck in a shitty ass apartment under my call. ...You should’ve left. You could’ve been at home or somewhere in Sandy Shore or some shit better than this raggedy, old, cold ass, piece of shit fucking room - with me. ...Why?” Trevor rants, confused and slightly pissed. Almost as if you just shouldn't have been here whether you had the choice or not.

Stuttering at a loss of words, you pause, “I-” Clearing your throat, you try again, “I mean, you’re right... I could’ve been anywhere in the world right now, in a warm bed, with a warm heater, and great internet. But- But it wouldn’t be the same, would it? Believe it or not Trev, you grew on me quite a bit, and I care for ya- a lot. I knew you had some sort of PTSD or some shit like that after losing Michael and I- I just didn’t want ya to have to go through this shit on your own. Hell, I didn’t want to go through this on my own...” 

“...Well ain’t that a bitch!?” Trevor pipes after a moment of silence, “You’ve got a crush on me!”

“Oh shut up,” you mutter, cheeks growing red in embarrassment.

“There’s nothin’ to be ashamed of, I get it. I’m quite the looker.”

“Oh come on Trev, shut up!”

Laughing as you shove his shoulder, he grabs your hands playfully, trapping both wrists in one of his hands. The other grabbing your hip and pushing you into him. Breath hitching in your throat, you take in the close proximity, feeling his calmed breaths fanning your cheeks. Exchanging looks at each other’s lips and eyes, Trevor pushes himself into you, pressing his lips to yours sloppily. 

Giggling like a child, you pry your hands out of his grasp to loop them around his neck and into his hair, tugging at the nape with a moan. Your tongues mingled in a dance, fighting for dominance. Biting down on his bottom lip, he grunts in pleasure, making you smile into the kiss. 

Lungs begging for oxygen, you pull away from his face, lips red and bruised fro your escapades. Looking at each other, you both share goofy grins, yours instantly dropping as Trevor goes to say something, knowing it’d kill the mood. Instead, you kiss him again, and again for that matter.

That night, despite it being spent on a thin, cold mattress, room, and thin blanket, you slept comfortably. Trevor’s body cradled yours throughout the whole night, Mr. Raspberry Jam not being needed for comfort. You were his comfort. Somehow, in this fucked up world, you understood him, and that was all that mattered to him.

[enchantestuff]

hatred - Charles Leclerc

I think I might make this into a mini series with an enemies to civil with each other to friends to lovers kind of vibe but I'm still not sure, anyways here's Charles x reader wanting to rip each others throats but instead end up ripping each others clothes off

gonna dedicate this to the lovely @yungbludz​ happy birthday <33

GIF NOT MINE

warnings; smut as per usual, Charles being very egotistical, choking, language, enjoy <3

2k words 

part two

It was safe to say you and Charles hated each other. You knew hate was a strong word, but you also knew that you felt nothing but hatred for the man. You hated his cocky smile and the fact that everyone seemed to be obsessed with him. You also hated the fact that you had to spend the whole weekend with him.

You worked for Ferrari, meaning that, unfortunately, you had to spend a lot of time with Charles. You were actually excited when you first got the job of being Charles Leclerc's PR manager. You had admired the driver and couldn’t wait to work alongside him, but that all changed once you actually met him and realised what an ass he really was. Everyone else loved him, of course, because he seemed to be nice to every single person on the planet except you.

You and a select number of the Ferrari team had been invited to a special charity event taking place in the ballroom of a luxurious hotel. You had all decided to check into the hotel the day before the event, in order to save time and familiarise yourself with the venue. Of course, according to your job description, you also had to run through the possible questions Charles could be asked with him.

Although Charles loathed you, he had to admit you were good at your job and managed to prepare him for every possible scenario, which is why he hadn’t begged Mattia to fire you, at least not yet.

You sighed as you reached the check in desk, all you wanted to do was flop onto the hotel bed and sleep until the morning. You gave the lady behind the desk your name and watched as she quickly typed on the computer in front of her. “Ah yes, Y/N and Charles, room 506”

Your eyes widened at her words as you shook your head. “No no, that can’t be right” you pleaded as you leaned your arms against the counter.

“Im sorry ma'am, but the booking is for the both of you” she explained with apologetic eyes as she handed you the room key.

“Take your time, Y/N. Not like we aren’t all exhausted from our long trip” you heard Charles scold from behind you. You quickly turned around and shoved the room key into his chest.

“Politetly, go fuck yourself, Leclerc” you muttered as you shouldered past him and walked straight to Mattia on the other side of reception. Mattia sighed once you walked over and gestured for you to begin arguing with him, he knew it was going to happen.

“Why? Why would you stick me in a room with that-that imbecile!” you snapped.

“Listen, Y/N, i know how much you dislike him and vice versa, but everyone had to be paired with someone and I thought this was the best option for you both” he explained with a soothing voice.

“Why do I have to be with her?” you heard Charles ask from behind you. You felt small standing in front of him, his broad frame practically trapping you between him and Mattia.

“Y/N is your PR manager, it's her job to prepare you for this event” Mattia once again calmly explained

“And she couldn’t do that over breakfast?” Charles inquired, you could feel his tense gaze on the back of your head and you whipped around scoffing at him as you placed your hands on his hips.

“Don’t act like this was my idea! Not everyone wants to share a room with you Charles, get your head out of your ass”

Charles opened his mouth to throw a rude remark your way but Mattia stopped him before he got the chance. “The both of you are sharing this room, whether you like it or not. I think everyone would prefer if you took this time to sort out your problems instead of bickering like children. I’ll see you both at breakfast. Goodnight,” he scolded as he walked off with his luggage in tow.

You felt your cheeks redden as embarrassment creeped up your shoulders. “Are you trying to get me fired?” you accused Charles as you grabbed your own luggage and made way for the elevator.

He shrugged in response, “Wouldn’t be the worst thing” he muttered, stepping inside with you. You pressed your floor number and sighed in frustration. “Can you stop breathing so loud?” he groaned, rolling his eyes.

“It was a sigh, dipshit.”

“Trust me, i don't want to be near you as much as you don't want to be near me”

“Glad we're on the same page” you replied, stepping out of the elevator and storming to your room, which in hindsight was a foolish idea as Charles had the key and you had to wait for him as he took his sweet time walking up the hallway.

He unlocked the door with a smug look on his face and stepped in before you, dropping his luggage on the floor as he surveyed the room. “You have got to be kidding me” he complained once he saw the double bed in the middle of the room.

“Oh what is it now, Charles?” you asked as you shut the door behind you “is the carpet not to your liking? Is it too bright? Are there no chocolates on the pillow” you continued and slipped off your shoes, “do you want me to - oh shit” you cursed as you saw the predicament you both were in. “Looks like you're sleeping on the floor” you shrugged whilst walking towards the bed.

“I am NOT sleeping on the floor,” Charles complained.

“What? And you think I am?” you argued, once again placing your hands on your hips.

“I don’t see why not,” he commented, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I am not sharing a bed with you, Leclerc! So you,” you jabbed a finger at his chest, “are going to have to step off your mighty throne and take the gentleman approach and sleep,” jab “on,” jab “the floor,” you snapped.

Charles raised his eyebrow as he stared at you. You could cut the tension between the two of you with a knife, it was almost unbearable. You had never fought this long, somebody had always interrupted you both before you got the chance to really push each other's buttons. “I'm going to say this nice and slow, sweetheart,” Charles growled, taking a step forward, you in turn took a step back as you removed your finger from his chest, “I’ll take the high road, we can share the bed just this once, as long as you stop acting like the spoiled princess that you will never be” he continued to walk towards you as he spoke and you were eventually trapped against the wall.

Charles moved his hand to lie on the wall next to your head, the distance between the two of you becoming smaller and smaller by the second. “I might be ready to step off my throne but are you ready to be a good girl and step off yours too?” he concluded. 

“Bite me, Charles” you retorted and something in the both of you snapped as you grabbed his face in your hands and he roughly grabbed your waist. Your lips violently pressed against his as your tongues practically fought against each other. You almost moaned at the force of his kiss, but refused to give him the satisfaction.

Charles pulled away, giving your mouth a final short kiss before he moved to mark your neck. “Come on, princess. Stop being stubborn for once in your life and let me hear the noises that you can make''

You however kept your mouth shut, Charles smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “If that's how you want to play it,” he smirked before gently grabbing your breast and slipping his hands into the waistband of your leggings. He rubbed circles on your clit as he pinched your nipples. “I want to hear you, sweetheart,” he grunted.

You rolled your eyes back in pleasure and involuntarily let out a moan. Charles felt his dick twitch in his pants and cockily grinned as he kissed right under your nose. “Good girl,” he whispered. It wasn't long before his trousers were discarded as well as your own leggings. You hadn’t moved however and were still pressed up against the wall. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked and although you felt your heart skip a beat you rolled your eyes at him and nodded.

“Yes, please just - just hurry up” you squirmed against the wall. That seemed to be all the validation he needed. He slowly put a condom on before easing into you. You scrunched your eyes at the uncomfortable feeling and tapped him to move. Your lips parting on their own accord as the feeling was replaced with pure pleasure. Charles forcefully grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist, providing him with a better angle for both himself and you.

“O-oh shit” you moaned as you scraped your nails down his shoulders to his arms, which left harsh red marks in their wake. Charles moaned at the feeling and you were almost aroused by the sound. Almost.

One of Charles hands were digging into the soft flesh of your thigh while the other moved to wrap itself around your neck, his signature pinky ring digging into the flesh of your skin causing you to mimic his actions and let out a moan at the pain.

“You like that?” he grunted as he continued to thrust into you, lightly placing some pressure on your throat, not enough to suffocate you, he didn't hate you that much, but enough for you to enter a state of pure bliss.

“I hate you, Leclerc” you found yourself muttering but you certainly did not hate him at that very moment.

“Feelings mutual, love”

You continued to scrape your nails across his back, desperate to pull more moans out of him. Charles however, didn't like being the only vulnerable one and removed his hands from your throat, he grabbed both of your hands in his own and shoved them upwards, beginning his assault on your chest.

Your toes curled as he hit all the right spaces, you knew you were close but you really didn’t want to be the first one to let go. Charles could feel the clenching of your walls and smirked into your chest. “Are you close, princess?” he asked, bringing his mouth to your lips and for some reason you found yourself kissing him back.

“No” you blatantly lied.

You moved your head closer to him when he pulled away but he refused to connect your lips once more and you found yourself pouting at the lack of attention. God, how pathetic had you become.

“Now, i knew you were a spoiled brat but i didn't take you for a liar as well”

“Glad to know your ego has no off moments, Charles” you scoffed and were about to start an argument before he began slowly pounding into you, his precise thrusts made it extremely difficult to formulate a sentence let alone hold onto the knot in your stomach. So, against your brain telling you not to, you let go.

You would have fallen onto the ground if it wasn’t for Charles' strong grip trapping you against the wall and his own body. The noises that he made as he reached his own high caused your heart to flutter in your chest and you began to wonder if having sex with him was a bad idea.

“Are you okay?” he asked after he had pulled away from you. You nodded your head as you furrowed your eyebrows

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you asked.

You were surprised the both of you were capable of having a normal conversation, but you supposed nothing could be normal between you after that.

Charles gently ran a finger across your neck and by the look on his face you knew you looked worse for wear. “I kind of lost myself in the moment, I’m sorry if I hurt you. Really I am” he clarified.

“Its okay” you sighed as you rubbed your neck, “lets just go to sleep”

“I’m still not sleeping on the floor”

“Just stay on your side of the bed, Leclerc”

[extremelyblackandwhite]

a year in the life | rockstar! s.s.

pairing: rockstar!sebastian stan x writer!reader

main work: i wanna know what love is

season: autumn 🍁

a/n: in celebration of 4 major works of mine turning one this year (my babies, cannot believe it’s been a year) and based on the reboot of gilmore girls, i will be revisiting my works per season. we are starting with autumn and rockstar!seb. hope you enjoy xx

Y/N laid on the big chez lounge couch in the middle of her living room, surrounded by her children’s toys, with a large bowl of Doritos on her lap as the Real Housewives played on the background. For the very first time since forever, she was alone at home; Jess and Marion were at their respective schools while Sebastian was busy in the studio, doing some rearrangements to a new album. She loved the three of them more than anything but she knew that she would’ve never had the chance to eat Doritos without Sebastian complaining it was unhealthy for her or her children trying to take a bite. Lately, all she wants is to lay low, bask in her leave from work and watch some trashy TV. 

As her eyes were getting heavier and heavier with sleep when the front door opened, sending her back into alert mood. Luckily, it wasn’t no one trying to break in but her husband who still couldn’t open doors without making a big ruckus about it. 

     - I’m sorry, bunny. -  he stepped back as he recognised his wife’s sleepy face. - I thought you’d be in the bedroom. 

     - Can’t move. - she pointed at her bulging bump covered by one of his old jumpers which seemed to be the only thing that fully covered her at this particular stage. Sebastian chuckled, walking over to her to quickly kiss her, hand caressing her bump through the jumper. - Didn’t expect you to be home so early.

      - I can see. - he pointed at the bowl of Doritos on her lap. - You’re supposed to be the prudent one. 

    - I’m carrying your offspring. It makes me make bad decisions. - she teased, cuddling against him as he sat by her side, worn out slightly loose black leather jacket still on. - How are the boys?

    - Fighting about who gets to be godfather this time.

    - Did you tell them my brother is gonna be the godfather?

    - Now, where would the fun be in that, bunny? - he smirked, with that boyish like looks he still managed to remain after all these years. 

    - Stop it. - she leaned towards him to kiss him. 

    - How are you feeling today? - his hand mindlessly rubbed her bump, feeling the little moves of the baby whenever the baby moved. - Little one is a bit feisty today.

    - It’s been like this all of last night. I think I might be closer to labour than we think.

    - Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve driven the kids to school, honey love. 

    - You needed to sleep. - she groaned as she stretched her legs. - Besides, Marion is staying with your mum today so I wanted to spend some time with her before she went. 

    - No kids tonight? - he leaned over to kiss her collarbone. - How long has it been?

    - As long as I’ve been pregnant. - she pushed him away playfully. - Jess is not going. 

    - Why not? Jess loves my mum. Is he sick? Urgh, is the flu going around his class again? We need to put him into a better school, those kids at his school are always s...

    - Seb, stop. - she rolled her eyes, smiling at the same time at how he’d gone from let it be to constant rambling about his children’s wellbeing. - He just wants to be home tonight and he’s been a little sad lately. 

    - You’re sure he’s not sick? Because there’s this private school which tests kids for all those flu things.

    - He’s not sick. He’s just got ... a bit of a lovebug. He got like this when I was last pregnant with Marion. 

    - Well, at least he hasn’t decided that the baby is just not coming. - Sebastian referred to Marion. Their daughter had just decided there was no baby coming around, even after being offered her own bedroom with her own bathroom, just for herself. - I’ll go pick him up, make it a whole thing. Maybe even pass by Al’s ... get you that pasta you really like. 

    - You’re just trying to make me forget that you’re the reason we’re moving houses. 

   - Y/N, this house has always been too small.

   - That’s because you need a whole room for your guitars alone. 

She’d spend the best part of her initial married years trying to convince Sebastian to either get a storage unit to put all his guitars in or to just merge it with his office yet, he’d always come back with an excuse. “Honey love, they need to be displayed”, “Bunny I would just get distracted if they were in my office” he would tell her with his rockstar like charm which she thought was strong enough to resist, yet how can she say no when he immediately shifts from boyish smile to having her pressed against the wall of that very same room, pounding into her as if he was an up and coming rockstar and her his favourite groupie. With the need for that bedroom, their once spacious apartment they bought when she was pregnant with Jess was becoming too small. Normally Y/N would be okay with it but being 8 months pregnant during the fall where it constantly rains in New York, moving seemed like the last thing she’d like to do and just thinking about it made her tired already. After all, she could barely walk to the kitchen without feeling tired or taking a short break in the middle of the path. She thought that after two pregnancies, the third one would be a walk in the park. Turns out it’s more like a run in the park, except the park is on fire and she’s barefoot. 

   - Honey love, asking me to get rid of my guitars is like asking you to get rid of your five copies of Emma.

   - They’re in different languages. - she argued back.

   - They’re different models, besides, we can finally have a guest bedroom. You always wanted a guest bedroom.

   - Sure then maybe my grandfather will come visit more often. How about that? - Sebastian chuckled at her answer. - I’m not joking. You get me pregnant, you get to be annoyed by my grandfather. 

   - You’re acting like this is my fault when you were the one who wore fishnets with a leather skirt. I’m only human. 

   - Fine, 10% my fault, 90% you fault. That’s my final offer.

   - You sure? 

   - Yes. You see, you are a sex maniac who cannot be controlled. 

   - That’s not what you wrote about me. - he smirked. - You said I had more soul than just a sex pot. 

   - Do not quote my own words at me.

   -  You bought my old guitar.

   - Urgh ... - she rolled her eyes. Sebastian grinned, happy he’d won the debate. - Just go make the other mums jealous please.

   - Look at you, using me for my sex appeal only.

   - No. I just really enjoy being the powerful mum. 

   - Yeah? What’s that like?

   - Constant questions about if we do weird sex blood rituals. Then mysterious answers, so they all fear you and don’t force you to attend PTA meetings on date nights. 

   - I gotta say, bunny ... we got this parenting thing covered. 

   - We do.

   - When I come back, you better not have a bowl of Doritos on your belly.

   - I’ll do whatever I want.

   - Sure, bunny, if you walk to the kitchen by yourself ...

   - Low move, Stan. Low.

   - You love me. - he chuckled, grabbing his keys from the trinket dish by the entry door. - See you soon, bunny.

   - Love you. - she scrunched her face in a little smile which he couldn’t help but smile back.

Sebastian liked to pick up Marion and Jess from school. His schedule normally meant Y/N, who had a more 9-5 job, was the one who’d do the drop offs and collections so he’d always meet them at home but whenever he could pick them up, he’d be the first one there. He just loved to see his two babies come out of school in their little uniforms which he incredibly hated when they first enrolled but now couldn’t help but find incredibly adorable. He also loved to see how both his children came out of school. Marion would be the one who’d take the longest, surrounded by all her friends and probably nursing a scrape or two on her knee as if kindergarten 2-3 year old was a big fighting ground while Jess would come out as quickly as he could. 

He parked slightly in front of his son’s school, coming out of the car and leaning against it. The parents’ eyes were immediately on him, maybe it was due to the star power or, most likely, it was because he was wearing a leather jacket, dark shades and his neck tattoo could be seen peaking out the collar of his jacket. His shoes crinkled the fallen leaves on the floor, avoiding those looks as he waited for his son. He knew who he was and he was not going to change it because he became a father, he is a good father, he knows that. The bell rang and a swarm of children came rushing out of the school, and they say birth rates are low. He took his sunglasses off, trying to pin point his son in the middle of all different aged children. 

   -  DAD! - he turned his head to the memorable voice, crutching down as he son rushed to him. Jess wrapped his arms around his father, little childish giggles as Sebastian pulled him off the floor.

   - Hey, buddy. How was school?

   - We did hand turkeys.

   - Hand turkeys? No way, that’s so cool. - he opened up the car’s passenger’s seat, sticking around to check if he fastened his seatbelt correctly before taking the driver’s seat. - It’s just gonna be us three today, bud. You, me and mummy. We getting Al’s and some ice cream. 

   - Why didn’t mummy come?

   - Mummy is very tired, buddy. The baby is kicking a lot, won’t let the baby sleep.

   - Oh ...  - Sebastian saw his son’s face grow sadder.

   - What do you want from Al’s, bud? You can get whatever you want.

   - Really?

   - Yeah.

The little restaurant had soon become a staple in their family life. Sebastian had. discovered by accident after accidentally burning dinner for Y/N’s. He wasn’t already too popular with Y/N’s family so he knew he had to fix it and there it was, the small little restaurant filled with delicious food. Now, it was just a Friday night tradition yet today was special, almost nostalgic to when Y/N, Sebastian and Jess had their first home. Back when Y/N and him were new parents and would trip on every toy in the apartment. God, those were the days. 

  - Dad? - Jess pulled at his sleeve while the two were waiting in the queue. 

  - Yeah, bud? - Sebastian picked him up, already understanding the signs of whenever he wanted to be held. 

  - I ... The baby’s not coming for a while, right? 

  - Why, Jessie? What did Marion say?

  - She didn’t say anything ... uhm, it’s gonna be three of us now. 

  - Yeah. We’re gonna get a new big place, we can even get a dog or a cat. You always wanted a cat, didn’t you? 

  - But, now I’m third.

  - What do you mean? - Sebastian furrowed his brows at the comment.

  - Well, when Marion was a baby you and mummy were always with her but she’s still a baby and now there’s a new baby, so I’m gonna be third. - Sebastian’s heart broke at that comment. Now it made sense. - And ... you’re not home a lot and mummy is gonna be busy with the baby.

  - Hey, you’re not third. - he rubbed his son’s back, kissing the side of his head, soothing him to the best of his ability. - You want me to be home more?

  - No, daddy ... you like doing music. 

  - Hm ... how about you come to the studio with me when you don’t have school?

  - Really? But you said I’m too little. 

  - Well, you’re gonna be a big brother again, I think it’s time.

  - Really?

  - Yeah. - he smiled him, his smile reflecting back at him. 

  - Faye. 

  - What?

  - We should name the baby Faye. 

  - Faye? You want your baby sister to be named Faye?

  - Yes.

  - Well ... Faye it is.

[alccaddsccup]

Trippin’ on Tequila

thank you for the lovely request anon! I had a lot of fun writing this

Ina x MC

warnings: fluff, drunkenness and grazes

tag list: @ikingsley @swimmingshoebakerydreamer @kaitlynliaofanxx @barnibumblr @veenast @livvynka @hellyeah90sbaby @kwaj115

lmk if u wanna be added to the tag list!

also lmk what u guys think of this length of fic. is it too long?? should it be longer?

———————————————————————

“Bea, why are you calling this late?” Ina doesn’t even bother to sit up in bed as she answers the call, rubbing her eyes groggily

“Um, hi Ina. I mean, professor. This is Zoey”

Ina bolts upright, immediately worrying if something bad had happened to Bea

“Zoey, is everything all right?”

Zoey looks over to Bea, who is sat down on the sidewalk with her shoes in her hands (she’s completely out of it)

“Yup, tooooootally fine. I just wanted to ask if you could pick Bea up from the club”

“Of course, I’ll leave immediately” Ina throws off her duvet and searches for a hoodie to wear over her pyjamas. She finds one belonging to Bea and puts it on, the sleeves falling down to her fingertips; the hoodie must’ve been left behind from one of Bea’s previous *ahem* late night visits

“Wow, really? No questions asked? Bea is one lucky girl. I mean, hypothetically of course.”

“Zoey”

“I don’t know anything about what you and Bea get up to”

“Zoey!”

“Not a siiiiingle thing”

“Zoey! I’m aware that you know the true nature of myself and Bea’s relationship”

Was relationship even the right word? Bea and Ina hadn’t made anything official, nor had they made any promises to each other. This sudden doubt makes Ina feel uneasy, and she quickly tries to pull herself out of this spiral of overthinking

“Oh, okay! Anyway, the ambulance is here now, got to go. Byeeeee”

“Ambulance? What ambulance?” It was too late, Zoey had already hung up

With worry eating at her, Ina drives as hastily as the law allows until she pulls up outside the club. She spots Bea talking to a pair of girls she doesn’t recognise, and relief floods through Ina’s body to see Bea in one piece. 

Ina goes to throw open the car door but quickly reconsiders when she remembers she’s still wearing her pyjamas and most definitely looks dreadful. Her hair is messed up and she isn’t wearing any makeup at all; dark circles rim her tired eyes and she can barely keep them open. She honks the horn of her car once which, unfortunately for Ina, does not get Bea’s attention

Bea looks to be telling some kind of elaborate story as she gestures wildly at the girls before her, only one of the shoes she’d taken off was still in her hand (who knows where the other one was.) After swinging her arm so widely that she nearly hits one of the girls in the head with her shoe, the pair depart from Bea. Ina decides this would be a prime opportunity to honk her horn again. 

This time Bea hears and, after looking for several seconds, finally manages to locate Ina. She waves overenthusiastically as a grin breaks across her face and begins to run over to the car. She doesn’t make it far though, as she begins to stumble on unsteady feet. Without thinking, Ina throws open her door and rushes over to Bea, barely managing to catch her as she begins to tumble

“Hi there, gorgeous” Bea tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and grins at Ina (she looks like Debby Ryan.) Ina chuckles softly at her attempt to be seductive before helping Bea to stand upright

“Come on Bea, I’m taking you to my place”

Ina departs from Bea briefly to open the passenger door and when she turns back around she notices that Bea is once again on the floor

“The floor is wobbly” Bea looks dazed as she stares at the ground and Ina returns to her side to pull her back up; it’s then that Ina notices the grazes on Bea’s knees

“Goodness Bea, look at your knees!”

Bea slowly looks down to her knees and when she notices the grazes her eyes widen

“Oh my god, they’re so ugly now” she attempts to push Ina away “I need to get in the ambulance with Zoey and the sick dude” The dots connect in Ina’s head as she realises the ambulance was called for someone else at the club; Zoey must’ve been kind enough to go with the clubgoer to the hospital

“Don’t look at me!” Ina grabs Bea by the arm and begins to guide her to the car

“You look fine Bea. Come on, we’re going to my apartment now”

“oooooh, are we gonna have sexy times when we get back?” Ina feels her cheeks redden at her drunken suggestion

“No Bea, you’re drunk” Bea pouts dramatically and tries to run a hand along Ina’s face; instead she rubs her hand along Ina’s forehead and over her eye

“But you’re so beautiful” Ina shakes off Bea’s hand and continues to lead her to the car

Once Bea is safely in the passenger seat, Ina gets into the driver’s side

“Put your seatbelt on” Bea spends a few seconds trying to locate the seatbelt as she feels along the ceiling of the car

“Ina, there’s no seatbelt” she grabs onto the car handle and pats it

“I’ll hold on tight” Ina sighs in exasperation before leaning over Bea to reach the seatbelt. As she grabs onto the seatbelt, she feels Bea press her lips against her forehead in a gentle kiss

“What was that for?” Ina fastens Bea’s seatbelt as she says this, clicking it into place

“cuz you’re protecting me, like.. like a guardian angel!” Bea’s eyes light up at the thought that Ina could be her guardian angel and she turns to her in wonder

“I think you’re my saviour” Ina grins and shakes her head

“Come on, lets get you home”

Midway through the quiet drive to Ina’s apartment, Ina feels a hand beginning to snake it’s way up her thigh. Her brow furrows

“Bea, what are you doing?” Bea squeezes Ina’s thigh and tries to drop her voice into a sultry whisper

“You look so sexy right now” Ina laughs loudly

“I woke up less than an hour ago and I’m in my pyjamas”

Bea teases the fabric of Ina’s pyjama top, her fingertips grazing the soft skin underneath. This makes Ina squirm slightly, and it takes all of her willpower to focus on driving

“Stop that, I’m trying to drive” Bea pouts and rests her head on Ina’s shoulder, she grabs onto Ina’s arm which makes the car swerve slightly

“Bea!” Ina shakes her off “Please keep your hands to yourself”

Bea lets out a loud sigh before resting her head on the car door. She crosses her arms over her chest 

“Do you not like me anymore?” Ina chuckles incredulously and pats Bea’s leg

“I like you a lot Bea, a lot more than I should” Bea turns her gaze onto Ina, studying her face as she continues “but you’re drunk and I’m trying to drive”

“Fineeeeee” Bea quietens down again, and the rest of the journey is driven in comfortable silence

Once Bea is safely seated on the kitchen counter inside Ina’s apartment, Ina gets to work on treating Bea’s scraped up knees. She puts her glasses on before wiping the grazes with an antiseptic wipe which makes Bea hiss in discomfort

“It feels like fire on my knees” Ina continues to wipe away the grit and dirt from the wounds, using one hand to hold Bea’s leg still

“I know, but I’m almost done” After a few seconds of gentle cleansing, Ina applies a band-aid to each knee and places a gentle kiss on one of Bea’s knees. This makes Bea smile and she pats Ina’s head

“See? You’re my protector” Ina chuckles before helping Bea down from the kitchen counter

“Come on, lets get you to bed” She leads Bea by the hand to her bedroom before handing her a pair of her pyjamas

“You can borrow these to sleep in” Bea runs her hand over the fabric with wide eyes

“They’re so soft, like you” Ina shakes her head whilst she smiles

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bea kisses her cheek before resting her forehead against Ina’s

“It means you’re cute” Ina chuckles at how little sense Bea is making as she pulls away

“All right then” Ina grabs a spare blanket and pillow from the cupboard in the corner of her room before making her way to the door. She turns around before leaving

“Goodnight Bea” Bea blows her an overexaggerated kiss 

“G’night beautiful” Ina closes the door to her room before making her way over to the sofa in the main room. She cannot help the smile that breaks across her face due to Bea’s insane level of cuteness, and that warm feeling stays with her even as she drifts off to sleep on the sofa

[jflemings]

if you're taking requests for thiam...9 or 20 from '50 wordless ways to say I love you'? :)

I couldn't decided which one I wanted to do more so I'm gonna do both separately!

(mid-writing note: this is more angsty and ficcy rather than drabbly which was originally not my intention whoops)

#20 'washing their back/hair'

I’m good right here 

on ao3

Liam was, for lack of better word, footloose on even his best days. Always seeming to be on the move and ready at any moments notice to jump into the middle of the action left him fidgety and unsettled in a way that made him seem careless, almost free if you’re looking at it from a certain standpoint, one where he’s successfully juggling classes, work, lacrosse and the prevention of another supernatural war.

The whole pack plus allies had been crowded into the McCall dining room for an extensive roast dinner to celebrate the beginning of winter break and the final take down of Monroe weeks prior when Argent excused himself from the table to take a phone call. The look on his face when he returned had Parrish and Noah already out of their seats, Melissa and Jenna reaching for plates of food to foil up and the rest of the pack gathering up phones, keys and helmets to get going.

Liam stayed seated, the anxiety burrowing itself further into his core, barbed edges scraping at his insides until all he could taste was the bile at the back of his throat and the guilt of wanting to stay at the McCall dining room table basking in the familiar sent of pack and safety. He loathed this. Absolutely despised it. The way everyone in the room fell silent when Argent had taken the call; The way he saw the worried look on his mother’s face when she looked at him and then Theo who was sitting to his right; The way everyone knew who was carpooling with who and who would be on standby at the house because after Monroe they learnt that while there’s strength in numbers, it could all be a ploy to lure the whole pack into one place to pick them off one by one. 

yeah, he hated it. 

But he scrapes his chair across the floor, pockets his phone, kisses his mum on the cheek and follows Theo out the door.

The ride from Scott’s to the preserve is short. Or rather, he thinks it is. The radio provides an almost mute background noise to Liam distracting himself by watching his breath fog up the window where his head is leaning and disappear almost immediately. He tries to imagine doing that with the ever-growing pit in his stomach but he knows that much like the simmering rage that had carved out a home in his bones, he isn't going to get rid of it that easy.

From the driver’s seat, Theo wordlessly takes in every aspect of Liam in all his long-haired-over-energised-werewolf-boy glory, sees the things that others might not at first glance. The bitterness of the anxiety that overtakes the cab of the truck, the way Liam’s mouth curves into a frown, the rigid line of his shoulders and the way it curves up his neck, the fidgeting hands situated in his lap that serve as a way to put all the unused, unnerved energy somewhere, anywhere else. Because when you really look at Liam you see that all these things were here before Monroe and Brett and Lori and Nolan and Gabe. The bite might have saved Liam’s life but it couldn’t save his innocence; couldn’t prevent a fifteen year old boy from being thrown to the wolves and making a home in the den. Liam had said from the beginning that Scott had always given Liam the choice, always will give Liam the choice, to walk away. 

But Theo knows that if Liam is anything, he’s loyal down to the bone. Knows about pack bonds and what that means, knows that one like Scott and Liams’ doesn’t come around very often. Theo knows that when given the chance to walk away he didn’t, knows that when given the chance now Liam still wouldn't.

Theo also knows that when Liam gets like this, any word from his mouth will go in one ear and out the other, knows that Liam appreciates his actions far more than his words.

Theo just knows.

The red stoplight filters though the windshield and highlights the highpoints of Liam’s soft features, basking him in a red glow that reflects off the cold fog on the window. Theo doesn’t need to think about it when he carefully reaches over the centre consul and winds his hand in between Liam’s own to bring their joined hands to his lips, pressing feather-light kisses to each of his knuckles while blue eyes still gaze out the window at the houses in an anxious haze. The owner of said blue eyes brings Theo’s hand down into his lap and sandwiches it between his own, keeping it there. Keeping Theo exactly where he needs him.

The fight with a few of Monroe’s straggling followers is short lived at best, but isn’t over before they get a bit trigger happy and land a few shots. Sheriff and Parrish arrive before any real damage is done and are able to unarm them via hellhound heatwave, letting the last few of the strong strain wolfsbane bullets melt into the chamber of the illegally purchased military grade guns. 

Theo, Argent and Lydia burn it out of Liam, Scott and Malia whilst Stiles assists with the arrests and calls one of his contacts at the FBI to check their files they have on the last of Monroe’s army before everyone is piling back into cars and onto motorcycles to head home, roast dinner forgotten for the night. 

The drive back to the Dunbar-Geyer home is silent once again save for the quiet  hum of a cd Liam had left in Theo’s radio one afternoon when they were driving back home from Beacon Hills; Liam claiming it was ‘detrimental to his early teenage years and one of the reasons he’s the person he is today’.

(thinking about it like that makes Theo uneasy after he just had to burn poison out of three bullet wounds that were in his boyfriend’s stomach not even fifteen minutes ago.

He doesn’t turn it off)

They stumble out of Theo’s truck and up the porch stairs, narrowly missing one of Jenna’s pot plants on the way up, before they get to the front door and Theo has to use one hand to search for the house key on Liam’s ridiculously cluttered key ring whilst also keeping a tight hold on the beta’s right hip to prevent him from losing his balance again. Liam’s hand tightens around the back of Theo’s nape where he’s got his hand draped before his head lolls onto Theo’s shoulder.

One look at him and Theo knows they aren’t getting through the front door, past the two creaking floorboards in the kitchen (that Liam makes a point to stand on just to rile both Theo and Jenna up), up the stairs and into Liam’s ensuite without making noise that will no doubt wake David up from his much needed sleep. 

Once Theo manages to find the key and then get it in the door, he unhooks Liam’s hand from his neck and moves slightly in front of him to hook his own hands under Liam’s thighs to hoist him onto his back. 

Liam puffs a breath out and onto the back of Theo’s collar and immediately wraps his arms around his neck. “I can manage to walk through the house, you know” 

“Yeah, that’s why you put up such a fight” the amusement bleeds through Theo’s voice as he tightens his grip on Liam and trots through the house.

Once in Liam’s ensuite, Theo gently leans back to put his boyfriend on the closed lid of the toilet before going back to his room to rummage through the locker-style wardrobe Liam insists on keeping even though it is currently bursting at the seams with both his and Theo’s clothes from the past three years they’ve been together. 

The bathroom is full of steam from the hot water when Theo steps through the ensuite door and quietly clicks it shut, in front of him is Liam pulling down his soiled jeans and boxers while holding onto the tiled wall to his right. Theo does a final once over to make sure the healing wounds are actually healing before taking his own clothes off and guiding Liam into the steaming shower.

Liam practically melts when the welcomed heat hits his back and he slumps forward so that his head is situated on Theo’s right collarbone while simultaneously loosely wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s middle and sighing with content.

“you know, we should just move back home; the water pressure here is so much better than it is at our place, we never have showers this good” 

“we have showers better than this and you know it” Theo teasingly retorts as he reaches for the shampoo in the shower caddy

Liam props his chin up at the base of Theo’s neck and kisses at the stubble on his chin while Theo leans him back under the spray of the water

“yeah but that's only when we actually have the time to shower together. Between work, classes, lacrosse and then coming back here all the time I feel like we never actually get to do this” 

Theo hums in agreement while lathering the shampoo through Liam’s hair, massaging his scalp with blunt fingernails as Liam subconsciously leans back into the touch, continuing to talk.

“I just- I don’t know, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad coming back here after we finish school. We could move into Derek’s building or just find another place and mum knows the guy that owns the auto repair shop near town so she could probably get you a job; I know coach needs an assistant coach to help with the  lacrosse team and I wouldn’t mind doing that in my spare time or- Theo are you even listening to me right now?

A small, fond smile graces Theo’s face as he once again leans the beta back to rise out the suds of shampoo “yeah, Li I'm listening. I think it’s a good idea but it doesn’t really matter because if you wanna move back here when you finishes college then we will.” 

Liam’s scent florals and the sweetness of it curls its way up Theo’s nose while Liam stares at him wide-eyed and open, Theo not paying any mind to the expression as he reaches for the conditioner.

“you mean that? Like, actually?”

Theo takes a moment to consider Liam’s response, keeping his gaze on the conditioner he’s lathering between his hands.

“Liam I don’t know why that's such a surprise. If that’s what you want then we’ll find a way to do that”

“but what about what you want?”

The simplicity of the question throws Theo off a bit, he hadn’t really thought about what he wanted now that he was genuinely thinking about it. There wasn’t anything in particular that he craved anymore; he’s got his freedom, a pack, a roof over his head and Liam. Theo has got everything he wants.

He once again takes a really good look at Liam. Big blue eyes, too-long hair that is in desperate need of a cut, the freckle near his mouth, the line between his brows that he gets whenever he’s getting impatient. Yeah, Theo already has all he wants.

Breaking the silence, Theo just shrugs and lathers the conditioner into the ends of Liam’s hair some more “I’ve already got what I want”

(you’re what I want is what Liam hears)

The beta stares in awe at his boyfriend, the anxiety of tonight forgotten, and cups Theo’s jaw with both hands to bring their faces mere inches apart

Liam’s breath ghosts over Theo’s lips “you’re what I want too”

Just as Liam goes to move to close the gap between them, Theo smirks and leans back ever-so-slightly “That’s great, babe but I have to finish rinsing out all the conditioner or your hair is gonna be yucky in the morning”

Liam huffs out a scoff an drops his hands from Theo’s face to loosely cross them over his chest

“we were having a moment, Theo! oh my god I can’t believe you.”

Liam throws his hands up in the air to emphasise his point before Theo catches his wrists and brings his hands back to his jaw, holding them in place with his own as he leans forwards to press his lips firmly to Liam’s in a closed-mouth kiss.

He once again pulls back from Liam’s face just enough that he can look him dead in the eye

“Liam, seriously, if that’s what you want then we’ll do it. I’m good wherever I am as long as I'm with you.” the words come out soft but firm and he gives Liam’s hands a gentle squeeze and then slides his own hands down to Liam’s wrists and lightly holds them so that his fingers curl around and over Liam’s pulse point.

The beta’s face splits into a wide grin and he pulls Theo’s face forward to somehow press an even firmer kiss to Theo’s lips: a thank you and a promise.

Yeah, Theo’s good right here.

[jodfics]

A Close Call

Female Reader x Bucky Barnes

Timeline: None / Current?

Rating: NSFW

Prompt: Anon Prompt for one of them nearly dying on a mission.

A/N: I recycled this from an old fic... Hope I changed all the names and pronouns!

MasterList

A sharp inhale made Bucky's hands falter, and he glanced down at the bruise darkened and scraped up skin of her upper back and shoulders. "Does it hurt?" He asked tersely, still frustrated that she had gotten hurt in the first place. To anyone listening, it may have looked like the man didn't care, his tone flat and his expression apathetic. There was a slight inflexion to his words, though, and she picked up on it immediately, noticing the worry laced in his voice.

"A little." Y/N could practically hear Bucky's eyebrows pinching together, "It's just road burn...."

"Just -" The brunette bit down his anger; he took a deep breath and held it, waiting for the urge to spin her toward him and shake her to leave. It wasn't 'just roadburn'. He couldn't get the image of her jumping in front of the car to fire at the driver out of his head - she hadn't been hit by it, but her jacket had been snagged as she stepped aside. Bucky felt sick to his stomach as he remembered watching her body dragged alongside the car. The tarmac had ripped and torn up her protective clothing like it was nothing - the grazes and slightly skinned appearance on her body was a lucky escape.

If her jacket hadn't have torn, then she would have been...

She let his eyes flutter closed when lips pressed onto the bandages, Bucky's arms winding around her. A vibranium palm cupped her breast whilst the other stroked down her stomach, "Coulda lost you."

He let out the puff of air, finishing with treating and wrapping the bandages before he brushed his hand down the covered skin.

Y/N hissed lightly at the touches, "Bucky…."

Y/N sighed and turned around so that she could slip off the med bay bed and onto Bucky's lap. She wore only her panties - the rest of her clothing in a heap on the floor so that he could check her for damage. "I'm fine." The man was sturdy, and Y/N loved how broad he was, perfect for rougher sessions and pressing her into whatever surface they decided would do. "I messed up, but I survived to learn my lesson. What I really want is for you to stop worrying."

Bucky shook his head and looked at the other fondly, his hands on her face as he admired her, "You want me to stop worrying?" She should have suspected from how his eyes had darkened suddenly that he was upset; Bucky wrapped his right hand around her throat and bit harshly at her bandaged shoulder - her yelp unable to escape because of his hold. Bucky scowled and pressed his thumb a little harder into her windpipe, oblivious to the spike of heat shooting straight down between her thighs, "Then stop risking your fucking life for dumb shit." He let go of her neck, half growling as Y/N smashed their mouths together and began pulling at his clothes.

There were no soft kisses or sweet words between them; their kisses were a mix of tongues, nips, and needy moans. Bucky grabbed her ass and dragged the woman closer, rolling her hips into him and revelling in the friction against his hardening cock, "Hurry up before they want the room back." 

The brunette snorted and shook his head; she was really something.

Bucky's plush lips went to her throat, mouthing short, harsh kisses to the sensitive flesh in a way that never failed to make the other gasp with want. His metal fingers pushed past the side of her panties and found her already wet, easily slicking his fingers as they circling her entrance. "Gonna show you why you need'ta stay alive for me."

She felt her thighs tense and squeeze around his waist, needily rocking her hips toward his fingers in a silent plea to put them inside. Bucky felt her wrap her hand around his wrist, guiding his digits to where they were wanted most rather than the teasing touches. Moaning at the familiar sensation of being stretched, Y/N looked at her lover through hooded lashes, begging him, "Don't play with me." Her body jolted at the stretch of another finger entering her, a drawn-out moan leaving kiss swollen lips as Bucky took her stiff nipple into the warm confines of his mouth. "B-Bucky, Ple… nngh!" 

Y/N's hands grabbed Bucky's shoulders and swore as teeth bit down over her breast.

She was panting as he fingered her, stroking and rubbing inside her, the heel of his hand providing her with something to grind against. She was forced to feel every stroke and push, the stretch of three fingers, her body shaking when Bucky sucked her nipple and brushed that place inside her that made Y/N want to scream - the medical team wouldn't be happy if she did. She pushed down onto those wonderfully cool fingers, chanting Bucky's name breathlessly.

"God..." He wheezed, "Don't you ever fucking leave me, Darlin'"

"Fuck..." He groaned after releasing her stiff peak and looking at where they joined. The black vibranium was shiny with her juices, "Look at that; creaming all over my fingers already." He lifted his right hand, his fingers pushed into her mouth to muffle Y/N's moans; his cock twitched when the other began sucking on them eagerly.  Bucky picked her up and placed her on the bed, quickly covering the woman as he laid her down.

Her nails left red scores down his sides, deep enough that the light perspiration on their bodies burned them, "I want you, Please - please, I wanna feel alive, Bucky!" Her head fell back at the slide of Bucky's length as he teased her folds and clit with the very tip, "Please," Her expression softened, jaw untensed as her lips parted when he pressed past her tight entrance and pushed along her trembling walls. Blue eyes fluttered closed as she squeezed him, Bucky growling as his shaft sank in so deliciously slow that he could have died right at that moment and not have cared, hot and wet and so fucking right that his entire body quaked.

Their rhythm was jerky, it wasn't perfect or smooth, but it was good, both riding on feeling and pleasure, barely able to keep their eyes from one another – reaching for climax quickly.

Y/N's voice was barely audible as she pleaded for Bucky to go faster, to push harder against her sweet spot inside that was making her mind go blank. Strong, familiar arms wrapped around her as he pulled her closer. His hold almost crushing as he pressed his face into her neck, moaning her name, making it sound like the only thing that mattered. Bucky's voice, his thrusts, his hot breath on her skin and his thumb on her overstimulated clit was too much, and she tried to stifle her keen as she came.

"Holy shit... I'm so glad I didn't die...." The man didn't answer. Instead, he splayed his fingers over her back, staring at her like she was the only thing in the world, and Y/N looked away shyly. Breath stuttering, feeling exposed at his attention, "Don't look at me like I'm your everything..."

Everything in her body seemed to tense almost painfully, the blood that pumped loudly in her ears barely covered Bucky's trembling, languid moan as jerkily came inside her - he managed to catch himself on his elbows before collapsing onto Y/N. Their hearts pounded together, breath mingling as they learned how to take in air again.

It was a few minutes until Bucky could pick himself up and bring her back onto his lap, the other still panting as she tried to control the heat in her body and the burning under the bandages.

Bucky pressed a kiss to the side of her kiss swollen lips, "But you are my everything."