#classic dry fly
Text
as long as trade professions exists i WILL write this man working as each and every one of them.
mechanic toji x fem reader | 2.2k words !
content: smut ! semi public (??) not sure if garage sex counts
the feeling of your shoes losing their grip nearly sends you flying as you step into the car shop lobby.
whoever was working tonight clearly had no grasp on what a wet floor sign was, opting to cover the floor in what felt like 2 feet of suds.
“oh! sorry!” suguru exclaims, extending an arm for you to hold onto. “you okay?”
“i’m ok sugu,” you tell him, feeling your anger dissipate at the sight of the shop’s newest bright-eyed apprentice.
you can practically hear him asking you not to tell his boss, eyes big like a kicked puppy.
the smile you shoot him is soft and reassuring.
suguru apologizes again, grabbing a caution sign from the supply closet.
“he’s in the garage if that’s who you’re looking for.” the apprentice adds, sending you in your husband's direction with a smile.
“toji?” you yell, scanning the 8-door garage for his telltale mop of black hair.
“on your right!” he shouts, waving an oil-stained hand in the air to flag you down. cars in varying conditions line your path as you make a beeline for your husband, following his black footprints like breadcrumbs
a 59’ impala comes into view as you weave in between the tall legs of the suspension machines. toji is crouched on the driver’s side with his back to you, fiddling with the front end of the vehicle.
“woah,” you whisper, trailing your hand over interior seats wrapped in glossy leather.
the cherry red exterior of the classic car is blinding, waxed to perfection by none other than the man in front of you
“aht, aht—hey.” toji chides, motioning for you to get your hands off the car.
“no fingerprints,” he says firmly, tossing you a rag from his equipment cart.
you quickly wipe down the headrest of the driver's seat, restoring it to its original sheen. the residue left on your hand smells like lemons, the sterile scent of carwash soap.
“you fix this up by yourself?” you ask, watching him fasten a new headlight into place. the amount of detailing was beyond impressive.
“course i did.” your husband chuckles. “can’t even trust these other guys with an oil change.”
you laugh, recalling the shop’s newest employee and your little wet floor debacle. toji reaches for the back of your calf, rubbing your leg affectionately from his spot on the floor.
“you’re the one that hires them.” you remind him.
“yeah, gotta stop doing that,” he mumbles, snorting at the way you smack his shoulder in protest.
the impala looks fresh off the conveyor belt with the amount of restoration that had been done to it. you can’t quite recall the last time you’d seen toji put this much work into a vehicle.
“what’s the story with this one?” you ask, stepping back to let your husband stand up.
navy blue coveralls come into view as toji rises from the floor, chest peeking out from where the one-piece garment is unzipped. he’s filthy, covered in motor oil and sweat. god, he looked good.
the raven-haired mechanic steps back with a cocky smile, zipping the garment down to just above his waist.
“what, like what you see?” he asks, slipping toned arms out of his uniform and tying the excess around his waist.
your mouth goes dry, eagerly taking in the way his body ripples under his black tank top.
“nah, nothing i haven’t seen before.” you tease, taking the spray bottle and cloth he holds out for you.
“right, okay.” your husband laughs, ego clearly knocked down a peg.
you’re wiping down the front windshield when he speaks again, answering your question from earlier.
“one of our regulars dropped her off a week ago, needed some help with parts,” he explains. the “her” in question being the obscenely glossy car in between the two of you.
“how’d the inside look?” you ask, strolling over to the sink. the smell of leather polish and windex gradually fades with a bit of scrubbing.
your husband scoffs, recalling the abhorrent state of the under-hood.
“fuck.. awful.” he explains, handing you a roll of paper towels. “some people don’t deserve cars like these.” he laughs, rubbing your back as you join him at the hood.
your husband fiddles with the tool cart, wheeling it closer to begin working on the tires.
“you look good tonight.” toji mumbles, leaning down to accept a kiss from you. you tug on the neck of his wifebeater just as he begins to pull away, roping him into a deeper kiss this time.
“careful.” scarred lips mumble. you feel his hand trail down your back, slipping under the waistband of your jeans and leaving just as fast.
“stop being a tease,” you tell him.
“s’ one hour till quitting time.” he says, grabbing a wrench from the cart. “can you make it, pretty girl? or do you need it right now?”
“i can wait.” you lie, not wanting to distract him from the job.
he nods, clearly not believing you.
“you remember how to get these bolts off?” he asks, handing you the wrench with a sly grin. his hulking form settles behind you as you crouch down in front of the tire he’d picked.
vintage cars like these needed a lot more manual work, not being able to withstand the force of any automated tools.
you unscrew the bolt with ease, fidgeting at the feeling of two warm hands rubbing up and down your waist.
“mhm, just like i taught you.” toji says, nosing at the curve of your neck.
you twist another one free, groaning at the feeling of scarred lips suctioning onto your neck.
“can’t focus.” you whimper, trying to wiggle free of your husband’s embrace.
“s’ not your job to focus.” he chuckles, biting the meat of your shoulder for good measure. toji takes the equipment from you and replaces the bolts with new ones, motioning for you to stand up.
you wait as he washes up in the sink, scrubbing the grime from his hands and forearms. thick hands dry themselves on his uniform, stalking over to you with a look that can only be described as lust.
“think that’s all for today,” he says, voice hinting at something much deeper.
“you’re still on the clock,” you tell him half seriously, taking note of the 45 minutes left in his shift. still, warm hands settle on your hips, backing you up against the washing station
“yeah?” he says, entertaining your jest. deft fingers slip under the hem of your shirt, lifting the garment off your body.
“funny how that works out.” he starts, “guess I'll have to live with getting paid to fuck you.”
your skin is on fire, prickling with every calculated brush of his hand. you lean up to kiss him again, feeling his tongue flit over your bottom lip.
“someone will hear,” you whine in between kisses.
“they know not to bring it up around me,” he says, lifting you onto the counter with ease.
toji’s zipper is next to go, stopping just under his crotch to reveal his boxers.
convenient you think, palming him through the opening in his coveralls. now that you think about it, why hadn’t you two fucked in the shop before?
scared lips peck over the tops of your covered breasts, biting down momentarily to leave a red mark.
the whine that escapes your mouth echoes throughout the spacious garage. blood rushing to your ears as embarrassment takes over.
“shhhh,” he tells you, crowding impossibly closer to muffle your sounds.
“can you stay quiet for me?” he asks, genuinely curious. a small nod is all he needs to seal your mouths in another kiss, shucking your bottoms down along with your panties to position himself in between your thighs.
you scoot to the edge of the counter, kicking off your shoes and wrapping your legs around your husband's waist. he doesn’t free himself from his boxers just yet, choosing to grind himself on your heat while you leave dark hickeys at the bottom of his neck.
“fuck.” he groans, flinching at how loud the sound echoes in the garage.
“quiet,” you whisper.
“i know, i know baby.” you watch as toji hooks a thumb into his boxers, his manhood already dripping with pre.
you pull away from your husband's neck right as he pushes in, a thin string of saliva connecting you to the dark bloom of purple your lips had left.
it’s a tight fit, but not impossible. the angle you’re at has you clenching down on the cock that’s splitting you open, squeezing him like a vice.
“fuck.” you whimper, lifting your husband’s tank top to expose his abs. toji bites the hem for you, letting you caress the dips of his toned muscles.
the distant echo of his rhythmic thrusts reverberates throughout the shop, drowning out your shared pants and groans.
“no fucking point in being quiet, huh?.” he mumbles with a smirk, taking you by surprise as thick fingers slide under your thighs and hoist you into the air.
“wait—wh-” you’re cut off as toji turns around, holding himself inside of you as he walks you over to the car.
“oh shit.” you gasp, mouth agape as you’re set down on the long hood of the impala.
your husband props his knee up on the vehicle, pummeling into you at an angle even deeper than before.
“thought you—ah- said no fingerprints.” you whimper, feeling yourself slide up the hood of the car with every thrust.
thick arms wrap around you, holding you in place while your husband ruts into you from above.
“you’re helping me wipe this thing down after.--fuck” toji says with finality, pulling you into a deep kiss with a hand cradling the back of your head.
the car continues to rock as the two of you go at it, filling the shop with noises that are beyond sinful.
“wanna ride you,” you mumble, taking in the way his eyes darken.
you’re flipped and carried up the hood of the car, the two of you now fully seated on a bed of cherry red aluminum.
toji settles into his back, satisfied with his work. he does it all without leaving your walls, cock still buried to the hilt.
“come on.” he encourages, moving you up and down his shaft with two hands around your waist. you’re practically being tossed around on his cock like you weigh nothing, panting and groaning while your walls struggle to accommodate his length.
“just how i like it, give it to me,” he tells you, leaning back on his forearms to watch where you two connect.
“gonna make me fucking cum, shit.”
you rock yourself onto your husband's dick, feeling him twitch each time you sink to the base.
“wait, wait.” you pant, smiling at the idea that just dawned on you.
you let toji slip out of you for the first time in half an hour, readjusting so your back is to him. cautiously, you reach both arms back, feeling him wrap both hands around your wrists.
“reverse cowgirl? on a fucking chevy? shit.” he chuckles, clearly impressed at your bold move. the raven-haired mechanic gathers both your wrists in one hand, using the other to guide his cock back into your heat.
the first thrust is agonizingly deep, pushing you closer to your edge. strong legs anchor themselves onto the hood of the car, steel-toed work boots leaving murky footprints.
“ah shit—like this?” toji groans, each hand holding your arms behind you at the wrist.
“want it like this? want me to ruin you?
"please." you groan, feeling your climax hit you like a tsunami.
the sound that rips out of toji is purely carnal, a long groan reverberating throughout the garage.
"fuck--oh fuck-hah" he pants, still reeling from the sensation of your walls pulsating around him.
you slowly lift off of his cock, holding onto his leg to balance. warm, viscous fluid drips down your thighs and onto the red surface beneath you. you hadn't even realized he came inside with how intense your climax was.
"fuck, look at this." the raven-haired mechanic chuckles.
the state of the car is absolutely abhorrent. obsidian footprints bleed into sweaty handprints. you'd think a game of twister went down if you didn't know any better.
"oh shit." you frown, stepping onto solid ground for the first time in half an hour.
guilt gnaws away at you at the thought of toji's hard work going to waste. this was his only form of income after all.
"hey, not a problem." he coos, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
"s' nothing some scrubbing can't fix, right?" you nod, lifting your arms to let him redress you.
navy coveralls zip back into place, covering the mess of hickeys you left on his chest.
you finally button up your jeans, frowning at a murky streak of oil across one of the legs.
"must've tossed those on the ground when I took em' off of you." he chuckles, dodging a swat from you.
You pad into the lobby first, blissfully unaware of a very disturbed sugaru sitting at the front desk.
your husband follows soon after, watching you walk into the parking lot.
“see ya, man.” the mechanic says plainly, shooting his apprentice a smug wave with a laugh.
#mechanic toji#toji x fem reader smut#mechanic!toji#mechanic toji x reader#mechanic fushiguro toji#mechanic toji x fem reader#fushiguro toji x reader#jujutsu kaisen#toji x reader#toji drabble#toji fluff#toji x fem reader#toji headcanons#fushiguro toji#toji drabbles#toji hcs#fushiguro toji smut#toji fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen toji#jjk toji#toji zenin#toji imagine#zenin toji#toji#toji x reader smut#toji smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Camping | Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Prompt from the lovely @wallpapertown ( i did run with it a little but i hope you still enjoy! )
summary: the group goes camping together, but forgetful minds mean close quarters for Eddie and the reader.
warnings: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, smutty smutty smut, buddies sharing a tent, skimpy clothes, slightly pervy!eddie, groping, fingering, p in v unprotected (who brings condoms to a friendly camping trip), once again jonathan does not exist in my writing, your friends definitely know whats going on in the tent. one use of y/n, pegging joke, pet names.
word count 3.1k words
You’d known about the plans for a camping trip for a few weeks, but in classic you fashion, you’d left all your preparation until the last minute, frantically throwing clothing and snacks into your truck. Certain you were packed, you lifted your cooler from your kitchen with ease,
“Shit shit shit, I need ice!” You ran to the freezer and saw the ice trays empty, meaning you’d have to grab ice from a nearby store. You were so focused on grabbing the ice that you failed to notice your tent was still on the kitchen table as you left the house.
In fact, your forgetfulness didn’t dawn on you until about 2 hours later, when you found the spot Robin had suggested. Steve is the first to notice you pulling up and points out the lack of tent in your truck bed,
“I was so focused on grabbing ice for the cooler that I totally forgot my tent.”
“Jesus, we’re not doing well today.”
“What do you mean?”
“Robin forgot her tent too, she was so fixated on marshmallows for s’mores that she blanked on it. Her and Nancy are sharing. Casa’s Harrington and Munson are looking perfect though.” Steve gestures to the only tents that are standing, Nancy trying to help Robin set up her tent. “Uh, I guess I can sleep with Eddie and you can have my tent to yourself?”
Eddie appears behind you, “What’s that about sleeping with me? I’m flattered Steve but I thought this was a friendly camping trip.”
“No idiot, y/n forgot her tent, so I said I’ll share with you and she can have my tent.”
“Or she can stay in my tent? She stays over at mine plenty?” Steve shrugs and turns back to you,
“Whatever you’re more comfortable with.”
You link your arm through Eddie’s, “I think I’ll stick with my sleepover buddy and let you enjoy your tent to yourself.” As you speak you’re interrupted by the sound of canvas ripping and you turn to Robin and Nancy, Robin has forced a tent pole into a part that did not require a pole and has destroyed Nancy’s tent. Steve pinches the bridge of his nose,
“Alright, Robin and Nancy can have my tent. I’ll sleep on the chairs outside.”
Eddie pats him on the back, “You’re a good dude. Alright, come on, you lets get you set up in the freak shack.” Eddie grabs your bag from your truck and leads you over to his tent. You set up your sleeping bag next to his, grateful that he’s got a large enough foam mattress set up so you wont destroy your back on the hard floor.
“Thanks Eds, I hope I’m not ruining any plans you have?”
“Plans? I plan to get high, eat so many s’mores I nearly vomit and then fall asleep to the sounds of nature; mosquitos flying around, sucking Steve dry for sure, bears fuckin’ beside the tent and a babbling brook. Sounds magical.” You both burst out laughing as you step out of the tent,
“Sorry, what was that about sucking me dry?” Steve glances up at you both from where he’s trying to set up a camp fire, this only serves to make you and Eddie laugh more,
“Relax Harrington, I meant the mosquitoes. Our sexual chemistry isn’t coming to a head just yet. I’m more of a slow burn man myself.” It’s already starting to get dark but finally, sparks fly and the campfire is lit, Robin comes running over, hands full of treats, gleefully grinning as her and Nancy start setting up s’mores and passing them around.
~~~
A couple of hours pass and you’ve all got a nice contact high from Eddie and are now getting sleepy. Robin and Nancy go to bed first, with you and Eddie sloping off to his tent shortly after,
“Alright Steve, I don’t want to feel you climbing into my sleeping bag with me at 3am.” Eddie nudges Steve who is pulling blankets over himself and nods at him,
“I can’t promise anything, not if I hear ‘bears fuckin’ beside the tents’.” Eddie pulls his shirt off once you’re both in the tent and starts undoing his jeans, you look away, his habit of undressing in front of you never really seemed to bother you until you had realized, with a certain degree of horror, that you had caught feelings for one of your best friends. Now, you had to look away, afraid he’d catch you ogling and be creeped out.
“Alright, I’m decent now, you prude.” Eddie is in his sleeping bag, leaning on one elbow and watching you intently. “You gonna get ready for bed or what?”
“Turn around pervert. No free shows.” Eddie rolls over, back turned to you as you unzip your bag you silently curse yourself. You’d thrown in clothes not really paying much attention, and since you’d thought you’d be alone you had just grabbed the first pyjama set you found.
Unfortunately this meant you were now faced with the prospect of sleeping in either the jeans and t shirt you’d been in all day, and would definitely guarantee a shitty night’s sleep. Or you could wear the black lacy, almost see through shorts and matching tank top you had grabbed in your haste. You weigh up your options and look over your shoulder, confirming Eddie is still facing away from you.
As long as I stay in my sleeping bag, zipped up tight, he won’t know what I’m wearing. You reason with yourself as you quickly undress and put the skimpy pyjamas on. You wriggle into your sleeping bag and zip yourself in,
Eddie rolls back around unprompted,
“Well hello there, come here often?” You snort,
“Can’t say I do, what I wanna know is how we’ve been friends for so long and I never pegged you for someone who liked camping, or even owned a tent.”
“Well first of all darling, you’ve never pegged me, not even once. And second of all, Wayne and I used to go when I was younger, when my dad went to prison for the first time. Said it’d be good to get me out of the trailer. I forgot how nice it actually is to just be outside, listening to the world, breathing in that camp fire smell.”
Your cheeks feel hot from Eddie’s nickname, and you feel guilty at all the sordid thoughts running through your mind while your friend is opening up to you. Fortunately, Eddie is saved from hearing you make a bad joke by a strange, animal noise from outside. You hear a chair fall and assume Steve has hopped up so quickly he’s knocked his chair over.
“Uhhhh Rob, Nance? Do you guys think I could squeeze in? Pretty sure I just heard a bear.” You hear grumbling and a zipper being undone as Steve joins their tent.
“Shit do you really think he heard a bear, Eddie?” You shuffle closer to him, in an almost wormlike fashion since you’re sealed in your sleeping bag. Eddie chokes back a laugh and wraps an arm around you,
“Well, I’d keep you safe if there was, but between you and me... that was a deer, not a bear.” You snuggle into Eddie’s arm, enjoying the bonus warmth radiating off of him.
“You cold?”
“A little.”
“Well, get in my sleeping bag then, I’ll keep you warm. No funny business though, I’m a honest man.”
“No, its fine, this is fine.” You tap Eddie’s arm that’s around you,
Eddie huffs as he presses a hand to your face, “Nope, you’re freezing, you’re getting your ass in this sleeping bag with me even if I have to unzip you and pull you in myself.”
“Okay, okay. Just... look away for a second?” Eddie places a hand over his eyes and shifts back so there’s room for you in his sleeping bag. You climb in, trying not to let the fabric of your pyjamas touch his skin, you fail miserably at this due to the fact that a single man sleeping bag is not designed for two people.
“Jesus christ, what are you wearing right now?”
“Just some pyjamas...”
“Bull. ‘just some pyjamas’“ Eddie mimics your voice as he turns up the brightness on the lantern and whistles when he is able to see your clothes. “Did you think this camping trip was code for orgy or something?”
“No, I just wasn’t paying attention when I was packing.”
“How come you never wear stuff like this when you sleep over at mine?”
“Well first off, imagine poor Wayne if he bumped into me wearing this while I was just trying to go to the bathroom. And second, its not really appropriate clothing to wear when you’re sleeping in your best friend’s bed.” Eddie wanted to disagree, while he loved you in his over sized shirts and your long pyjama bottoms he couldn’t help but want you in this when you next stayed over. Absentmindedly he starts tracing the patterns in the lace around your hip,
“What are you doing?”
“ ‘s pretty. Do you want me to stop?”
You bite your lip and shake your head, leaning back onto him, feeling his warm chest touch your cold back.
“You’re freezing, silly girl.” Eddie chastises you gently, wrapping his arms around you, you try to wriggle away a little when you feel your butt touch his crotch but he’s having none of it, “You’re not getting hypothermia on my watch. Just sit still and warm up.” You both stay like this for a while, Eddie pretending the whole situation isn’t making him hard as a rock and you pretending you can’t feel his erection pressing into your ass. Eddie shifts slightly to ease a small cramp in his leg and accidentally rubs his cock across your clothed ass, and a small moan escapes your lips. You quickly clamp your jaw shut and pray he didn’t hear you. Meanwhile Eddie, who definitely did hear you has a grin like a cheshire cat,
“You okay there?”
“Mhm.”
“Then what was that little moan I heard?” Eddie whispers into your ear, “You’re wearing this skimpy little outfit, pressed up against me, and now you’re moaning? Must be trying to start something, or drive me crazy.” Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire,
“Eddie, I...”
“Relax. I’m not blind you know. I do see the way you look at me when you think I can’t see you. I just wish you could see that I’m looking at you the same way.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, dumbass,” Eddie pauses to kiss your cheek, “I like you too. And I’m here if you want to do something about it. Or we can pretend that everything’s fine and we’re just best friends. But at some point one of us will get hurt.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I don’t want to hurt you either, but then that leaves us with one option.”
You roll over to face him,
“You want this? I mean you want to be with me?”
“God help me I really do.” Eddie’s hands are stroking your face, his big brown eyes are soft as they look into your eyes, before his gaze drops to your lips and he leans in slowly, giving you time and room to back away, you close the distance quickly, pressing your lips to his, he gasps into the kiss and his hands travel down to your waist, pressing your body flush against his. Your hands grab Eddie’s and bringing them up to your chest, you place them on your breasts and he pulls away from the kiss,
“Okay you must really be trying to drive me crazy.” Eddie starts kissing and biting your neck as he plays with your breasts over your shirt. Keen to return the favor you start palming him through his underwear,
“Baby.” Eddie speaks between kisses, “How far do you want to go right now, bearing in mind our friends are literally meters away and tents are not known for their soundproofing?”
You pull away from him and scoot to the tent’s entrance, peeking out through a small hole you’ve unzipped, the tent next to yours is dark, they’ve turned their lantern off and you can’t hear any voices.
“I think they’re asleep Eds...” Eddie kneels beside you and peers out, listening intently. Without warning, you turn his head to yours and pull him in for a kiss before pushing him down to lay on his back, “So I think we can do whatever feels right.” You rock your hips on his bulge, unsubtly getting your point across. Eddie nods and his hands come to your shorts and a loud tearing sound follows,
“Eddie!” You gasp as he rips your clothes from you,
“What?” He asks nonchalantly, kissing your neck as your top suffers a similar fate, “Not my fault these are so fragile.” Eddie rolls you over so he’s on top of you and runs his hands over your body, almost possessively,
“Liking what you see?”
“Its better than I could have imagined in my wildest dreams.”
“Dream about me often Eds?”
“Only every night.” He returns to kissing your neck, as his left hand tangles in your hair his right hand is tracing a path further down your body until his cupping your bare pussy, “Can I please play with you?” He’s almost pleading with his tone,
“I’d be offended if you didn’t.” Eddie smirks and slowly runs his finger over your clit, hissing as he feels how soaking you are, tracing an almost painfully slow pattern until his fingers are just ghosting over your entrance, “I bet you feel incredible inside.” Eddie whispers in your ear, continuing to tease you with his fingers, waiting for you to ask him nicely.
“Why don’t you find out?” Eddie laughs,
“Nope. You’ve got to be a polite little lady about it and ask me.”
“Please?”
“Please what?”
“Eddie please please please touch me.”
“I am touching you?” He pretends to be confused for a moment before he slips his middle finger into you, making you gasp, “Only because you look so pretty when you beg.” He kisses you again, muffling the moans coming from your mouth. He feels you tightening up and adds another finger, stretching your pussy out more, and making you whine as he starts curling his fingers inside you, rubbing your g-spot mercilessly while his thumb traces circles around your clit.
“Eddie, fuck, Eddie you’re going to make me cum.”
“Good. I want to watch your face while you cum all over your best friend’s fingers.” He says with a wicked grin, his fingers working relentlessly until the knot that’s formed in your stomach is untied and Eddie’s having to clamp his hand down on your mouth to muffle the filthy sounds coming out of it as your orgasm wracks through your body, your pussy clenching around on his fingers, your thighs and butt twitching of their own accord.
Once you’ve calmed down Eddie takes his hand off of your mouth and slowly removes his fingers from you, admiring the strings of your arousal on them, before slowly and deliberately sucking each of his fingers clean.
“Well I was right about two things.” There’s a smug edge to his voice,
“And what would those be?” Your voice is still shaky,
“One, that you would feel fucking incredible inside. And two, that you would make the filthiest sounds when you cum. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about both things.” Eddie admits, shamelessly. “There’s only one more thing I’m still pondering.”
“And what would that be.”
“How fucking incredible you would feel around my cock. Am I allowed to find out tonight?”
You nod, eager for more, “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
“You sure? We don’t have to. I don’t have any condoms with me so it would be, raw you know.”
“No condoms?”
“No, I was under the impression this was a friends-only camping trip and didn’t want to seem like I was hoping for a group sex in the woods kind of weekend. So, we do not have to have sex tonight if you want us to use protection.”
“There’s a pharmacy somewhere around here right?”
Eddie shrugs, “Must be, why?”
“Because I’m going to need the morning-after pill tomorrow.” Eddie catches your drift immediately and starts easing his underwear down, he presses the tip of his cock at your entrance,
“If you need me to stop or change your mind please just say okay? I wont be mad, I promise.”
“Eddie, please just fuck me already.” Eddie chuckles and slowly slips himself into you, biting his bottom lip to hold back a loud groan as he feels your silken walls stretching around him. You have to hold back a similar noise, though you choose to bite down on his shoulder to hold your own noise back. Once he’s got you full to the brim with his cock he looks down at you,
“Ready?” You nod and Eddie starts pulling back slightly before slamming back into you, keeping the rhythm slow and deep, you’re panting and trying to hold back so many erotic sounds,
“Baby, you’re taking this so well, and you’re doing so good at being nice and quiet for me.” Eddie kisses you, letting you moan into his mouth as he continues his pace, the depth of his thrusts making your back arch off the mattress. Eddie has to break the kiss to catch his breath so quickly covers your mouth while your eyes roll back slightly.
“Good fucking girl,” Eddie praises you non-stop while he’s fucking you, his words coming out in quick whispers as he holds back his own moans while you’re tightening around him,
“Eddie ‘m getting close,” You pant, “You need to do something so I’m not loud.” Eddie has picked up his pace now, slipping in and out faster and harder than before, relishing as you struggle to stay quiet. He’s getting close too, he’s barely hanging on but desperate to feel you finish around him. Your pussy is getting so tight he almost has to stop fucking you and your breathing is getting erratic as the warm glow that started in your lower stomach is spreading, pleasure completely wiping your brain of any logical thought, or any consideration to the current situation, so that when you do finish around Eddie, its with a loud scream of his name, which makes Eddie finish inside you with a similar cry of your name.
Eddie crashes down beside you, completely spent, sweat running down his body,
“Well we tried to be quiet? That’s got to earn us some points right?” He’s still breathless as he speaks.
“No, they’re going to be hell when we have breakfast tomorrow Eddie.”
#eddie munson#eddie fucking munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson smut#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#eddie munson fic#eddie stranger things#stranger things 4#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson imagine#munson-trashcan#eddie munson friends to lovers#smutty saturday
12K notes
·
View notes
Note
Ooohhh any head cannons with malleus! Yutu and how diasomnia reacts to them?
Ah yes the banished Prince. I was wondering when I was going to get an ask about him, and I admit I am a bit surprised it was only the one unlike a certain other prince. It's rather fitting to come back to Yutu posts with him though, there's a great deal of tragedy to be had with Malleus in this ayuu.
notes: they/them used for Yuu, for context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. SPOILERS FROM BOOK 7 ON HOW DRAGON FAE REPRODUCE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, PROCEED WITH CAUTION.
I've mentioned it before but Malleus! Yutu plays by half elf rules. He's very young looking, he's around the same age that Yuu is, whatever you think that is, but he looks around 15 at most and shares his father's eyes and teeth. Even in your world he had a reputation for being quite baby faced, this annoys him quite a lot, though he keeps his outrage to a brief pout if the person talking about it is Yuu.
Yuu remembers Malleus being their best friend, someone who was socially awkward due to isolation and came off as intense and scary because of it. They go to great lengths to try and encourage Yutu to make friends, but the public opinion of them as weirdos really hinders this and is only increased as Yutu matures. This Yutu doesn't like people very much, he grows up assuming everyone is mean and overly judgemental and that he will never be truly accepted for who he is no matter how hard he tries.
Being born in a different world does not make him any less of a Draconia, though unlike his father he is less prone to rage and more to long periods of melancholy; he is very much that sensitive goth kid with reams of bad poetry he will want to burn when he gets older and a love for rainy days. He has a deep love for classical poetry, music, and old clothes. If the area where Yuu lived had a ren faire then you can best bet Yuu took him there as a special treat more than once, he loves seeing all the medieval outfits and activities. He's explored every cemetery your town has, knows all of it's weird rumors, and any fun history stuff that might have happened in and around it, something he retains when transported to Twisted Wonderland. There are few people who know more about the history of Night Raven College than Yutu Draconia, for better or worse.
His interest in the macabre effects how he sees his parent's situation. While other Yutus might have needed time to adjust to the idea of magic and curses, Malleus! Yutu always firmly believed in it and assumed that was exactly what had happened to his parent. He went back and forth on his beliefs about his father, as a small child he thought of his father as a wonderful person who loved his parent so much that he must be searching for them surely, and that any day now he would swoop in and fly Yuu and him away to where they really belonged. When that never happened he began to wonder if maybe his father saw his relationship with Yuu as a mistake and that their memories had been altered purposefully to hide his identity. Whatever the truth, Yutu has decided that his loyalty is to Yuu, and that no matter who is trying to harm them he will hunt them down and have his revenge.
He announces as much to Crewel after he arrives in the mirror chamber, magic sparking at his finger tips as he roars it with a force he didn't know he had and immediately starts hacking at how dry his throat has become. It's very cute and not as intimidating as he might have wanted, but his point comes across well enough. Diasomnia is extremely pleased to have a Draconia back in the Housewarden's seat, though Yutu is less than pleased with this new position of authority.
The transition of being a hated outcast to the rightful King of a literal fallen kingdom is jarring. Learning of his father's controversial marriage to Yuu, of the uproar caused by their disappearance and his father's outright refusal to ever give up hope that his child and spouse would return is heartbreaking. Silver and Sebek had standing orders to go to them when not if they did, that's how badly his father wanted to believe he would be back. He was barely able to live with himself without them, but he had to. He had a kingdom relying on him, and someone else too.
We have gone back and forth in these posts about giving Yutu a sibling, but Malleus! Yutu absolutely has one. Dragon fae create eggs from magic and their partner's love, so in this scenario Malleus and Yuu decided to have two children, one that Mal would nourish and one that Yuu would. Technically, the Crown Princess is older than Yutu, but since she hatched from an egg she matures even slower than he does. She did grow faster than her father, the ability to transform into a human came much more naturally to her because of Yuu's love, but she doesn't look or sound much older than six. You are insane if you think this means she thinks of herself as the younger sibling though, her egg was older by two whole years so there! That means she is in charge! So Yutu absolutely has to stop learning boring "political smience" or whatever and play with her RIGHT NOW. She's wanted to meet him for so long TᴖT how dare her little brother deny her TᴖT look at her she's so cute how could he even think of scolding her TᴖT oh jail for brother jail for 1000 years TᴖT
Yutu might hate socializing and have a negative view of people but he absolutely adores his sister and thinks of himself as the big brother. He lets her claim to be in charge in the same way Malleus let Sebek do whatever he wanted because he finds it amusing. It is not uncommon to see the King in Exile holding court with the Crown Princess on his lap, rocking her softly as she naps. It helps solidify his control over what remains of Briar Valley, they might have been skeptical about having a half human King who cannot even transform into a dragon, but his professed dedication to his father's legacy of sacrifice and the clear adoration of his sister make his authority tough to deny.
Speaking of sacrifice, going back in time was hard for Malleus! Yutu. He felt there was absolutely no way he could bring his sister back with him because of how young she was and he was skeptical of whether or not it would even work. If it didn't he would be depriving Briar Valley of a king again, but if it did well. Then he would never need to be king in the first place, which Yutu finds reliving. While he did step up to the task, all he ever really wanted was to live with his father, Yuu, and now his sister in whatever way would have been normal for them. Sure, that normal turns out to have been quite abnormal, but that doesn't mean he still does not want it.
When the Once and Never King sees his father he has maybe more information than any of the other Yutus, even those who had met their dads. He conducted lengthy interviews with both Silver and Sebek, compiling a great pile of notes that he went through over and over again trying to come up with a strategy. All of that planning goes out the window when they actually meet, Yuu asks for permission from Tsunotarou to introduce the two of them, thinking it would be nice for both him and Yutu to have more friends and Malleus is just intrigued enough to say yes.
So this is a dragon fae. It's the only thing Yutu can bring himself to think when he sees Malleus, the other, more intense thoughts and emotions are distracted by the fireflies that accompany his father's arrival. They're beautiful, he can't remember having seen anything like them before, certainly not in his future. His father looks at him in brief surprise, and magic tingles up Yutu's spine. It's similar to the feeling he had when he first saw his sister, like recognizing like and seeking to form a connection. It hurts to shut himself off, but he smiles and focuses on his humanity as he puts forward his hand. "Hello Mr. Tsunotarou, I'm Yutu." The smile that stretches its way across Malleus's face is pure amusement, he must have really liked this ruse. What did Yuu think about that when they learned?
"My the humans of your world are certainly brave." He shakes his hand proudly, clearly pleased at the normalcy of Yutu's treatment but still painfully unaware how to be normal about it. "I am deeply pleased to make your acquaintance."
Malleus adores Yutu. There's just something about him that activates a part of him that he wasn't aware of before, and while he doesn't understand what those emotions are he recognizes his increased need to be protective of Yuu for exactly what it is. His mind thinks of Yuu as his mate, in body and soul, and that does terrify him slightly. Yuu is so tragically human, they'll die if he takes them home. They'll die if he lets them go to their home. They'll die if he never says anything at all and lets his love rot out his heart alone in his tower while they freely move through the world without ever having known of his emotions-
I haven't given much thought as to how I would want a Malleyuu confession to go down, but I could see them starting a sort of awkward courting process where Malleus takes them for long, late night walks in the forest to slow dance alone, brings them roses and handcrafted jewels he silently begs for them to wear to show just how close they are getting- but however it happens there is at least an understanding that there is something between them by the time Yutu's disguise is knocked off and he's forced to come clean.
It's a reveal Malleus does not take well. Oh not that he hates his son, he is overwhelmed with such a powerful love and joy at the mere concept of his existence he could never- no it's the fact that his future. His happy ending, that he fucking deserves after everything that his family has been through, was robbed from him and he wasn't able to do anything about it other than go to sleep? Him? The most powerful mage (fifth actually but he doesn't care about that) in existence couldn't stop that? Unacceptable.
After Yuu gets him to calm down and soothes the brewing thunderstorm they both are very focused on the well being of their child. I feel like both Yuu and Malleus would want Yutu to have a chance to just enjoy himself, for him to take off the crown he was never meant to have and just. Breathe for a moment. That's part of Malleus's motivation for introducing him as his son to the Diasomnia gang, he wants his child to have a chance to have some fun with his Uncles and Pee Paw Lilia.
Sebek bursts into tears when he learns of Waka Sama jr's existence. I think he feels a sort of kinship with Yutu, they're both half fae and they both have a deep respect for Malleus. He's very shy when he sees how much respect Yutu has for him. He's surprisingly humble when Yutu thanks him for protecting him in the future, insisting that he was just doing his job. He likes listening to Yutu play the piano, I could see Yutu trying to teach Sebek how to play an instrument, partially to spend time with him and partially just because he is curious as to how tone deaf Sebek can be.
Silver is deeply concerned about Yuu and Yutu's safety. He organizes with Sebek and Lilia to change up their patrols to include defending the new members of the royal family . He is a bit confused as to why Yutu wants to just hang out with him when all he really does is train, but he also is glad that the little prince is willing to train with him and take Silver's concerns about his safety seriously. I could see Silver apologizing for not being able to defend his parent, genuinely distressed about his situation and Yutu being a bit awkward about it. He never thought to blame Silver ever, why would he? Yutu is not unused to Silver's kindness, but it still overwhelms him. It's a pure sort of love that challenges what Yutu thinks about the world, and he doesn't know what to do with that.
Now. Mr. Pee Paw. Lilia is probably the most excited out of the entire group, look at this kid. You see him? Living physical proof that humans and fae can get along! If a Draconia did it then you can too, Grandpa Leven would be so proud! The future is concerning sure, but now that he knows about it he can plan for it. Lilia might be old, but he is still has some fight left in him, and he is very happy to use it on securing Malleus's family's future.
Yes, he does try to cook for Yutu. He wants to make him a birthday cake because he insists that they should throw him a party even if it isn't his birthday so he can have one with his Pee Paw and Dad. Yes everyone forces Yutu to distract him so they can make sure they've got something edible. He's so sad about it, how could they, jail for the little prince, jail for 1000 years.
Malleus is overly confident about his ability to change the future. Failure isn't an option as far as he is concerned, he will find the person who dared to corrupt his perfect future and he will have his due. His son will never have to live in a world without him, and he will never have to live in a world that rejected Yuu. Someone clearly needs to be reminded of just who Malleus Draconia is, and that memory will not be pretty.
Bonus
So the little crown princess. She learns that her idiot younger brother is planning to go back in time without her and she is very angry about this. How dare he, she knows he can't do anything without her so she makes sure to tag along anyway.
I toyed with the future kid reveal coming from her just marching up to Yutu and giving him orders, but I also like the idea of the Draconia family finding her lost in the woods crying because of how distressed she is that she can't find her little brother. Either way she doesn't understand the need for secrecy and wants to spend every single second she can with her parents. She causes a lot of rain when she finally gets to meet Yuu in person, she had so many dreams about meeting them and now they're real and she can hug them- she's just got too many emotions in her little body send help.
The Draconia family has pretty easy to follow naming theme, but I wasn't too certain about what names to give Yutu and his sister. I like the idea of Princess Draconia being named Mallia after Lilia but I am less certain about Yutu. In my notes Miss Princes was just called Princess Tamago because she hatched out of an egg. That's not her name but I could see that being something Yutu calls her.
#<3 asks#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#malleus x reader#malleyuu#malleus draconia x reader
152 notes
·
View notes
Text
If these wings could fly - Lewis Hamilton
a/n: Tried something different this time and got a song as inspiration.
pairing: lewis hamilton x fem! f1 related! reader
song: Wings - Birdy (yeah, it's old, I know)
warnings: none, just fluff really
wordcount: + 1k
Sunlight comes creeping in, illuminates our skin
We watch the day go by, stories of what we did
It made me think of you, it made me think of you
You woke up confused and groggy in your window seat in the private plane that was taking you and a few other members of your team to the next leg of the season. Sunlight peaking from the poorly closed blind on your side, Lewis’ perfume strongly present around and his arms still in the back of your neck as you used his shoulders as pillow.
Everyone around was deep in conversation or working, no one really interested in how you and Lewis always seemed to look and act like a couple, although not really one - yet.
“Morning, sleeping beauty” his soft tone welcomed you, the happiness from the last day still very present in his voice.
“How long have I been out?” You breathed out, cracked and dry throat indicating you had been sleeping for a while
“Almost 5 hours, I think. It’s okay though, we saved you some food” He winked looking down at you still snuggled close to him.
“Urgh, day flights are the worst. They never end!” You dramatically put, yawning through the sentence and trying to reach your phone charging on the table in front of you.
“Specially when you party the whole night through huh?” Toto appeared at the back of your seat, ruffling your hair and giving Lewis’ shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“Please, keep it down, there’s a lot of static up here already” you almost whispered, index fingers squeezing your temple.
“You have no ideia how much noise you made, love” His laugh echoed as he pointed to your phone blipping away
“Please don’t tell me twitter’s blowing up with photos from last night ?!” Your question earning a few laughs from people around.
“None yet, you’re safe for now.” Lewis answered chuckling, loud enough just for you and Toto to hear, while gently guiding you back to your seat by your waist.
“It was nice seeing you have fun, really” Toto sincerely looked at you this time, earning a classic Lewis toothy smile in the process.
“Well, then you should start winning more often again” you pointed to Lewis, fully turning to him and smirking.
“We won that. And this time, hopefully, we’re back to how it was.” He confidently stated, squeezing your waist as you adjusted yourself back to lean on him, contemplating the last 24 hours.
Under a trillion stars, we danced on top of cars
Took pictures of the stage, so far from where we are
They made me think of you, they made me think of you
No one believed it when Lewis got to that flag first, not even himself, coming on the radio to ask Bono what pace he needed to keep the gap from Verstappen, even when the fireworks had already gone off at the finish line. You could only remember jumping from your place on the garage and running as far as you could to get to where the cars would be parked, with a screaming team right behind you.
Lewis had never jumped faster from the cockpit, running to the mechanics still with his helmet on and almost making a repeat of 2019 with the barriers as you were making a bee line to get as close as you could. He probably first saw Toto, towering over the sea of people there to cheer him on, and then he found you and gosh were you glowing to him, even if in reality you had dried tear stains down your cheeks and a blush that covered almost your entire face.
He hugged you tightly and if it wasn’t for the reporter waiting for the interview, he wouldn’t have let go. As Toto grabbed on his helmet and congratulated him, you slipped a squeeze to his fingers when he looked back and gave you the full toothy smile that had your heart melting.
That night you dragged everyone from the team to an impromptu small party. There, with people excitedly celebrating one of the most important people of your life in what was also one of the hardest moments of your life, you felt as light and free as you hadn’t in a very long time.
You documented everything, photos left and right of how that one victory got everyone so amazed and pumped, just like in the past, making a mental note to actually share what you could with the millions of fans just as proud as you were of the work the team had done. And while Lewis made sure to talk to everyone, he would always find his way back to you, remaining glued to your hips until the early hours of the Monday you were all supposed to leave.
While dragging you back to your hotel room for a quick shower and breakfast you stopped him in front of the bathroom mirror, looking straight into his eyes, the alcohol left in you just about enough to get you to brave up and let out something you had been hammering in the back of your head since that final flag.
“Gosh, Niki would’ve been so, so proud of that.” He perked up wrapping his arms around you and giving a chaste kiss on your forehead.
“He have always been proud of you babe” His response clicked after a few seconds and made you bubble up.
“I meant…and I know I’m not making the most sense right now. But I meant he would’ve been proud of you, Lewis, just as I am, as Toto is.” You said it looking straight at him just to wonder off to the cold shower leaving him standing there.
Lights go down, in the moment we're lost and found
I just wanna be by your side if these wings could fly
For the rest of our lives.
Getting to the next hotel for yet another race week almost felt like home after a few years of doing just that. You had developed a routine of sorts in the past years in the category. Whenever you got to the next country at night, you would go run the jet leg off, have a bath, relax, catch up on important emails and order something to eat.
The past months your routine also had accommodated Lewis’ presence, whether for a talk or to have dinner with, he would always be found around you. Mondays and Tuesdays were for you both to figure things out, no F1 talks you had agreed– a rule that was was tossed aside pretty quickly.
That Monday though, the spirits were still running high, and even after burning off his energy and you trying to relax, you two only wanted each other and the tension was something anyone could cut with a knife.
Yes, you two were joined at the hip for almost the four days of a GP, yes, people were starting to suspect the proximity had more than just friendship involved.
“Hey sorry to bother, I was wondering if you have the commercial numbers the board sent last Wednesday, I wanted to go through them.” You sent Toto a whatsapp voice message, not wanting to bother him with a call but hoping he would see it. Your phone ringing not a moment later.
“So… you two can be quick”
“What are you talking about?”
“Haven’t you two celebrated already?”
“Gez, Toto. He’s not even here and I was trying to catch up on some work”
“Okay. Just please, take care of whatever you two had today, I can’t go through 2 hours of meetings tomorrow with a cranky you.”
“I do not get cranky over that”
“Yes, you do. May I remind you of those months before you two…”
“No, you don’t need to remind me of anything, I got it, bye and please send the reports.” You hung up not even waiting to hear his response, but not fast enough to not hear his laughter on the other end.
When Lewis finally showed up, he followed your trails on the suite until he laid his eyes on you sitting on the sofa, papers scarred around and a computer on your leg. Your flushed cheeks as you took his flustered features in, revealing you were as eager for him as he had been since he got out of his car on Sunday.
“I swear, next time I’m not leaving for any party until I celebrate with you.” He almost whispered as he led you away from the mess and towards the bed. His strong scent engulfing you as he pulled you close and studied your features just millimeters away from his face.
“I would very much like that” You agreed, breaking the tension with a clash of lips, hands already all over his abdomen and biceps, grounding yourself in whatever skin you could find.
Later that night you woke up to an empty bed and a shadowy figure on the window, looking out at the sky. He only had his boxers on, braids out and a dreamy expression on the features you could see lightened by the moon.
“Penny for your thoughts” You sleepily murmured in his shoulders, leaving a kiss there and hugging him from behind, feeling his tensioned muscles relax as he took you in and turned you into his arms.
“Did I wake you?” He looked concerned as he asked and kissed your temple
“Felt your absence” You snuggled closer to him, bathing in his warmth
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like Sunday. It’s been so long and everyone’s worked so hard for that” He let it out after a while, looking out into the city above as you watched him closely, holding him tighter – if that was even possible.
He let you led him back to bed, under the silky duvet he pulled you onto his chest, fingers massaging your scalp while you traced rounds shapes in his chest. You felt the vulnerability in his actions mirroring your own.
“Niki once told me there’d be one race that I’d remember in horrific details. I always thought that was Brazil 21’, but it doesn’t even come close to what these past 3 days have been.” You broke the silence, looking up at him and finding his eyes fondly looking back at you.
“To be honest, all I remember is that there was only one person I wanted to celebrate that victory with” He grinned before saying, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear
“I love you, Lewis.” You softly said it, not for the first time ever though, but surely the first time you felt it so strongly and liberating
“I know I’ve been dodging each and every feeling I have for you. But I don’t want to do it anymore, I want to scream to the world that I love you, and I want you to know that I’ve been in love with you for a while now.”
270 notes
·
View notes
Text
Femme Fatale Guide: Small Ways To Look More Polished (Essential Style & Beauty Tips)
Some simple fashion & beauty tips to help you look more put together to turn heads and feel your best daily. Hope this helps xx
Style:
Always steam, lint roll, and snip any threads from your clothing before heading out the door
Ensure your top, pants/skirt, and outerwear proportions flatter your body shape. Choose cuts, hemlines, and strategically tuck or button (or unbutton) each garment to create lines that flatter your figure
Be mindful of how your pant/skirt/dress hemline aligns with the shaft of your footwear. You don't want any bunching or awkward gaps
Learn which colors are the most flattering on your skin tone (and which shades wash you out)
Study your body shape and the silhouettes that best streamline/elongate your frame
Find the right balance of textures/fabric weight (too many "heavy" fabrics like faux fur, quilting or puffer-style items when styled together can look bulky if not styled carefully)
Invest in a capsule wardrobe and neutral basics made in high-quality fabrics (Pima cotton, cashmere, silk, heavyweight denim, merino wool, etc.)
If an item does not look quite right on your body, tailor it or toss (donate) it out
Make sure all of the hardware matches with all of the jewelry, handbag, watch, cuff or button details, and footwear you choose for any given outfit
Maintain your accessories and footwear. Ensure they're no creases or scuff marks before heading out the door
Beauty:
Always keep your eyebrows well-shaped, brushed, filled in, and regularly tweezed
Tweeze and/or dermaplane your face as needed
Prioritize skincare/SPF for flawless skin
Ensure your foundation/concealer/brow products are all a perfect color match and fully blended into your skin
Use concealer to outline your brows and lip shape for greater definition
Strategically apply bronzer/contour, highlighter, and blush to your face to flatter your natural hollows, and prominent features (top of cheekbones, the tip of the nose, right under the brow), and use a light wash of color where your face would be naturally flushed
Find a flattering lip shade that suits your skin tone and doesn't make your teeth look yellow/dull
Embrace healthy hair habits (condition generously, use a wide-toothed comb and a specialty hair towel on wet hair, use a heat protectant and a round brush for blowouts/styling and satin or silk hair ties/pillowcases, get regular trims)
Use dryer sheets to minimize hair frizz and water or Vaseline to slick back fly-aways
Exfoliate and moisturize religiously (dry brush or sugar scrub with lotions including ingredients like hyaluronic acid or glycerin, depending on your skin type)
Use cuticle oil around your nails & apply hand cream/lip balm daily (or substitute with Vaseline for any of the three)
Maintain a diligent nail routine (consistent nail shape, classic pink, nude, red, or vampy polish color, and a high-quality top coat)
#femme fatale#dark feminine energy#dark femininity#fashion tips#beauty tips#fashion and beauty#fashion advice#beauty advice#life advice#beauty hacks#tips and tricks#it girl#queen energy#high value woman#high value mindset#elegance#classy life#high maintenance#femmefatalevibe
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
-𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕣 𝕊𝕦𝕟-
summary - Jenna is a simp.
warnings - fluff!, r is slightly shorter than Jenna, kissing, implied make out session
an - wrote this in honor of @i984 (my wife) cause i love her<3
—————
Jenna was never a lovey-dovey person. Most often she kept to herself and didn’t bother anyone with her needs or wants, she didn’t prefer to express her feelings.
Love, to her, was a concept she would never be able to understand. She considered herself to be a dry, bland, unsweetened girl whose priorities lied within her job and her family. She had absolutely no time for a relationship, and that was that.
Until you came along.
See, you were different than all the others who tried to swoon Jenna. Your personality encapsulated her in such a way that she thought she was going crazy. Your smile was a glowing aura that lit up the room like the sun on a breezy summer sunday. Your eyes, oh your eyes; they were a glorious color of auburn red and caramel brown with a hint of orange thrown into the mix. Jenna would count every freckle that dusted your face and hit herself when she got a new number every time.
Now, how did she get here?
Well, you were an aspiring film student. You went to and graduated from Harvard with a masters degree in filmography and directorship. You loved movies, especially horror, and have always had a small section of your heart devoted to analyzing and breaking down iconic movie scenes. You adored being on sets and meeting wonderful actresses and actors, then working with them to make something so phenomenal you wish you could save it forever.
Jenna happened to be a wonderful actress, and you scored a job as the co-director for the upcoming Netflix hit, Wednesday. The addams family had always been a classic for you, and now working on it was so surreal that you passed out when you got the job.
As of present day, you were on set for Wednesday. It was lunch break currently, so you resided to your tent to eat Pad Thai and go over notes you had written down. The crisp-smelling air blew through the open flap as you ate, suddenly filling your nostrils with the scent of ceder wood and vanilla. Your eyes lit up in and instant; you knew that body wash anywhere.
In walked Jenna, beautiful as always. Her hair was tied down into its usual braids and she was in her nevermore uniform for filming. A smile graced her lips when she saw you, and she made a bee-line for the open seat next to you.
“Hey.” She said, sitting in the chair.
“What’s up otter?” You shot back, grinning mischievously.
When you first met Jenna, your co-worker thought her last name was pronounced ‘Aw-Tega.’ Ever since, you have called her otter as a nickname.
“Nothing much, just relaxing.” She replied, resting her head in her hand as she stared at you in a daze.
“Sounds awesome. I wish I could relax.” You said, rolling your shoulders in an uncomfortable manner.
“Want me to help?”
You looked up at Jenna in surprise, seeing that she was referring to your tense state.
“Uh…sure? If you want to.” You replied, setting your notes down on the table as she got up to stand behind you.
Her hands made contact with your skin, making goosebumps rise as she slowly massaged your muscles. The way her fingers would gently caress your shoulder blades made her feel, uncontrollably giddy.
A groan escaped your mouth when her thumbs rubbed a particularly tender spot on the nape of your neck, and you closed your eyes in pure bliss. Jenna was thanking whatever power was above her for letting her be in this position, and for not allowing you to see her face; she was as red as a tomato.
A sensation of bravery took over her, and before she new it she was pressing her lips to the back of your neck. Her nose brushed your undercut and she lightly inhaled your shampoo. You smelled sweet, a mixture of coffee and chocolate with a sprinkle of cinnamon.
The feeling of her kissing your skin made your eyes fly open in shock and you whipped your chair around to face her. She shot back slightly, a face of uncertainty and nervousness.
“Did you just…kiss me?” You asked slowly.
“I…uhm…” Jenna gulped, loosing the ability to speak as you stood up carefully, “N-no…i mean…uhh..”
“Jenna..” You warned, stepping into her personal space as she backed into the tent wall.
“I’m sorry…it was impulsive…” She grimaced, closing her eyes in preparation for your outburst…
…that never came?
No, instead she was met with your lips on hers, your hands on her neck while you pushed your body flush against her. She felt your tongue slid into her mouth, intertwining with her own as her hands slid down to grasp your hips.
The break-away was too soon for her liking. She was just starting to relax and enjoy you when you decided to pull back. Either in an effort to keep you close, or just because Jenna was desperate, she chased your lips before you put a finger in between.
“Woah there tiger, slow down.” You chuckled, smiling when Jenna whined sadly.
“Don’t worry,” You purred, leaning in to brush your nose against hers while you wiggled your butt in a teasing way, “You have many more opportunities to taste me..”
——————
Want to join a taglist for my posts? Comment down below to join!
I do not give permission for anyone to repost on any platform
#jenna ortega x r#jenna#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#ortega#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna ortega imagine#jenna ortega x fem!reader#jenna ortega x you
648 notes
·
View notes
Text
october twelfth
day twelve: james potter
you encounter james at the bus stop | fluff, pre-relationship, flirty friends | 1.1k
The dark clouds loom ominously as you wait for the bus. It’s the best way to get to the pub for the birthday party you’ve been invited to. You don’t know the birthday girl that well, but Lily invited you because she’s nice like that and you don’t have anything else to do tonight.
Your small gift — a bottle of wine — is in your bag and you’re glad you brought your umbrella because you are almost positive it’s going to start raining any second and you’ve got a nice outfit on.
A fall wind rips down the street and you pull your coat closer, eager to be at the pub already with a drink in your hand to warm you up. You wonder who else will be there. Frank, of course, and Lily and the girls. Sirius and Remus and…James. They’re all new friends, all people who seem to like you, and you can’t help but hope that one person in particular will be there.
And then the skies open. You fumble with your umbrella for just a second before it pops open and keeps you dry. It’s absurdly big — an old flatmate left it behind when she moved out so you took it. You could fit three people under here and you hope the wind dies down otherwise you might be like Mary Poppins flying down the street pretty soon.
You check your watch. The bus isn’t due for almost ten minutes.
There isn’t anyone else waiting for the bus though the street isn’t deserted, instead dotted with people pulling out their umbrellas and hurrying to wherever they’re headed. Heavy footsteps clomp to your right and you turn to see who is running in this weather. It’s someone rather tall who inspects the bus stop sign and then curses. He pulls off his wet glasses and runs a hand through dripping dark hair.
Oh shit, you think. You know this guy.
“James?” you call. You don’t know if he’ll recognize you, truly, even if you’re a bit infatuated with him, but you’ve met him a few times at dinners and parties and such, so surely he will? You think of him as Lily’s cutest ex-boyfriend in your head to stop yourself from calling him hot James.
He looks up at you, squints, then puts his glasses back on and grins.
He calls your name and waves but doesn’t move. Thank god he remembers it. “James, come here. You’re going to get soaked!”
Water splashes under his shoes as he jogs over and under your umbrella. It’s big, sure, but it feels much smaller with him hunched under it with you.
“Bit late for that,” he says. “Can I hold it?” He’s taller than any of your other friends so you hand over the handle and he shuffles a bit closer, raising the canopy to a better height for him. “Thank you,” he says with genuine warmth.
“Of course,” you reply automatically. You get a bit silly around him, which Lily has teased you about, but you can’t help it. He’s so handsome and quite flirty and very nice.
“Are you going to Alice’s birthday?”
You nod and he grins again.
“Brilliant,” he says. “I am too. Thought I’d miss the bus so I left without one of these.”
James strikes you as someone who does not carry an umbrella even when he knows it’s going to rain. You wonder if he lives around here. Maybe you’re neighbors.
“Lucky I’m here then.”
He turns his body a bit so he’s facing you more directly. “Yes, lucky indeed.”
“What did you get her?” you ask. How do you make small talk, again? You’re not terribly sure how to speak to James. All you know about him is that he and Lily dated at school, he’s tall and handsome, and he plays some sort of sport. And you’ve certainly got a small, tiny, totally manageable crush on him.
“What?”
“Alice,” you clarify. “For her birthday.”
“Oh,” he says. He looks sheepish. “I forgot, actually. Bit classic of me, I’m afraid. What did you get?”
“Wine.”
“Clever girl,” he says. You feel warm down to your toes. “She loves wine.” He sounds genuine in his praise. “I’ll just buy her some shots when we get there.”
You like how quickly this has turned into we, even if you’re just taking the same bus to the same party. It feels nice to be going with him. There’s something about him that’s…magnetic.
“When is your birthday?” you ask.
James looks a bit surprised. You’ve surprised yourself. Water runs down his nose as he studies you. “March,” he says. “The 27th.”
“Aries,” you say softly.
He winks, so quick you might have imagined it. “Well done. When’s yours?”
You tell him and he nods. “I’m no good with star signs, I’m afraid, so I’ve no idea which one you are.”
He sounds so genuinely put out that you laugh. James chuckles with you.
“Why do you ask?” Great question.
You shrug. “I just like to know. Maybe I’ll get you a present.”
James looks delighted. “Really? Well, now I’m absolutely getting you one.” Is this flirting? Are you flirting with James Potter under your own umbrella while waiting for the bus?
“I guess you’ll have to find out,” you say, nose turned up. Your face feels a bit hot despite the chill. You’re about to make another quip when James moves very quickly and suddenly his arm is around you, tugging you away from the curb moments before a car rushes by and sprays water all over where you were standing.
“Sorry,” he says. He releases you and situates himself so that the umbrella handle is between you once more. “Saw that coming. And those are nice shoes.”
“Thank you,” you say, a bit shy. You would like him to touch you again.
“In fact, all of you looks quite lovely despite the fact that it’s raining absolute buckets.”
Yeah, definetly flirting. “James,” you chastise, but he looks downright pleased that he’s flustered you.
The bus rounds the corner.
“And we were just starting to have fun.” He fumbles for his bus pass in his pocket. “Will you sit with me?” A silly question.
“Of course,” you say through a smile. “You can hold this, though.” You point to the umbrella. “Don’t let it drip on my shoes.”
He gasps as the bus pulls to a stop. “I’d never.” His palm is firm on your back for just a second before you get on the bus. Maybe tonight’s birthday party will be more fun than you’d hoped.
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!
promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23
#fvspromptober23#james potter x reader#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#marauders fanfiction#james potter fluff
161 notes
·
View notes
Text
D&D: Honor Among Thieves (Xenk/Edgin) fic rec list:
These are just based on those I've read and loved so far. There are so many incredible works coming out of this new fandom that I'm sure I'll have enough recs for a second post in another month or so.
Because this turned onto a bit of a long post, the recs are below the cut.
I've marked the rating by each fic, but please do mind the tags!
Curse of the Green Hag by @moorishflower (E, 16k)
Xenk contracts a fuck-or-die curse and turns up on Edgin's doorstep for the first time since Neverwinter. Also contains an excellent cameo from Holga, a bit of bondage, Xenk's first time, and A Lot of emotions. And of course the actual smut is top tier. Already wanting to read this one again.
High Praise Indeed by enchantedsleeper (T, 3k)
Xenk stops by Holga and Edgin's cottage to find Edgin in the throes of a breakup. In the process of trying to persuade Edgin of his many worthy qualities, he accidentally reveals a little too much. Short and very sweet, with cameos from Holga and Kira. Would recommend for fans of pining idiots.
in the absence of truth by @floralprintshark (E, 13k)
Five times Ed says that he hates Xenk and one time he doesn't. Yes, a 5+1 things, but oh it's so much more than that! There are heists and hijinks, accidental asshole Edgin, uncertain and inexperienced Xenk, and a hint of polyamory between Simon and Doric, but the whole party are featured and written perfectly here. Also contains Many emotions. I sent this one to the group chat, and we were ALL screaming about it (in the best way)
Universal Glue by Korwwa (E, 10k)
A rescue mission goes wrong, and Xenk and Edgin get caught in, yes, a glue trap. The premise may sound like a crack fic, but it's definitely taken seriously, whilst still being very fun. Plus a wee bit of angst for (delicious) seasoning.
Scraping the Moss Off the Standing Stones by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (E, 4k)
Established relationship, Xenk comes home after a long time away and Edgin takes care of him. Oh boy, this fic sure packs a lot into just 4k words, and I feel like the author just Gets how I imagine Xenk - always seen as holy or evil, but just wanting to be treated like a person. Also very hot - I'm weak for some well-written dirty talk and this is perfect.
When the well runs dry by demon_faith (G, 2k)
Part one of the Time Heals All Wounds series, which can either be read as a series or as stand-alone fics. Established relationship, Edgin is badly injured, and Xenk is unable to heal him. A classic hurt/comfort with a good bit of Edgin whump, and Xenk struggling with the reality of that.
On the edge of a blade by demon_faith (T, 3k)
Part two of the series, again established relationship. This time, Xenk gets badly hurt, and it's up to Edgin to take care of him. Heavy on both the hurt and the comfort.
lay on hands by @hauntedfalcon (E, 2k)
A getting-together/first-time fic, with a healthy dose of body worship. Xenk gets off on Edgin's metaphors. Beautifully written, and also my initial thoughts were - this is an author who sure is clued up on the names of medieval clothing/armor.
half your life (you've been hooked on death) by roundtriptojupiter (T, 2.5k)
Edgin struggles to process the events of the past six months, when Xenk turns up at his doorstep. Or, Edgin and Xenk process grief together, then kiss about it. A great exploration of Edgin's emotions, not only regarding Zia and Holga, but of the other people he may have harmed along the way.
We can burn much brighter (if we don't look back) by enchantedsleeper (T, 6k)
Xenk apprehends Forge and learns of the events that transpired at Neverwinter. Grappling with the fact that his past almost repeated itself while he was too far away to help, he encounters Edgin. Such a lovely post-movie fic, exploring just how Edgin and Xenk are processing their feelings in the wake of it.
Do you know you'll never fly alone? by MayGlenn (T, 1.2k)
Something a bit more light-hearted to end the recs list on: a fix-it of sorts, but for the poor undead guy in the post-credits scene. Xenk takes Edgin on a late night ride, to fix an issue he'd left behind, but maybe for something more also...
And that's that for now! Please do feel free to recommend your favourite D&D: Honor Among Thieves fics in return, or yell about which of these you loved the most. My comments and inbox are always open :))
And to the fic writers (and all fic writers out there), thank you so much for sharing these stories with us! You're all absolutely wonderful, talented people <3
#dnd honor among thieves#dungeons and dragons honor among thieves#xedgin#edgin x xenk#fic recs#nic's recs#dndhat fic#nic watches dndhat#rec list
326 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gen's Soft Browned-Butter Rum Vanilla Chocolate Chip Cookies
This is really for everybody, but I'm putting it up at last 'cause @sounddesignerjeans requested the recipe. I have been making chocolate chip cookies for thirty years, I was making them when I was too young to have been allowed near an oven by sane parents, but it wasn't until fairly recently that I was really happy with the recipe. I want cookies that are soft and stay soft, but that are chewy and not cakey; that have a lot of flavor instead of just being overwhelmingly sweet; that aren't too much trouble to make in terms of tools, and that are entirely made up of stuff that the average American probably has in their kitchen cupboards.
Here's your classic flatlay of ingredients:
2C plus 2TBSP all-purpose flour
2 TBSP corn starch
1/2tsp baking soda
1tsp kosher salt OR 1/2 tsp fine table salt
1C brown sugar (light or dark)
1/2C white sugar
1C butter (two sticks/16 TBSP. Must be butter--I don't know anything about soy or nut spreads, but margarine absolutely will not work for this, unfortunately)
2 eggs, room temperature
Vanilla to taste (anywhere between 1tsp and 1TBSP is usually the sweet spot)
Chocolate chips to taste (Average is 1-2 cups, but live your dreams! I like my cookies a little less chocolatey personally, but this is absolutely up to you, anything under three cups shouldn't overwhelm the dough to the point that it doesn't cook right, though that would be Way Too Many for me. I'm usually at about a cup or under.)
A couple of notes: this recipe really does work best if the eggs and chocolate chips are room temperature, but the butter can start from frozen if that's what you have. Take a half-cup measure and use that to scoop flour into your cup measure, and then scrape, don't compress, until the flour is level across the top of the cup. And lastly--ANY vanilla will do, but I am hugely privileged to be able to say that the Bacardi there has been transformed to vanilla extract by a particularly enterprising kendo student of mine, I'm not just pouring straight rum into the cookies (though that might be interesting)
Also, please allow me to introduce you to Fork!
Fork is a stalwart friend. When I moved to be with the Magical Flying Husband, he was somewhat horrified by my Poverty Child, "This table fork and butterknife are all the tools I need for my day-to-day household existence" ways, and got me Fork as a present so that I would leave the silverware alone. Fork can handle a dense boiled potato and a silky buttercream with equal aplomb, not bending or transmitting too much heat up into my hand. I highly recommend Fork. But for this recipe, a hand mixer will also do, as will a table fork if that's what you have.
(The rest of Part 1 of this recipe under the cut:)
If you have two bowls, put the dry ingredients (flour, corn starch, baking soda, salt) into the smaller one, and both sugars into the larger one. If you only have one bowl, put the sugars into it and let the dry ingredients wait their turn.
When I was a kid, I used to imagine that the brown sugar was a castle keep in deep winter, and the white sugar the snow that hemmed it in.
Get a little pan onto the stove, and pop both sticks of butter in it to melt.
The butter will start off bright, but it will pretty quickly separate into liquid and solid; you must not leave it alone at this point, this is the most eyes-on-it portion of the game here. Take Fork, or a fork, or a whisk, and stir, stir, every few seconds.
The milkfats will sink to the bottom of the pan. Stir, stir. The milkfats will get sticky; don't let them cling to the pan, keep them in motion.
Pretty soon the butter will start giving off a lovely chestnutty smell, and the milkfats at the bottom of the pan will turn a darker color. Take the pan off the heat and continue to stir for another thirty seconds or so. If you leave it on the heat and stir now, the fats can easily burn; if they burn, you need to start over, there's no salvaging it. So better safe than sorry.
Carefully pour the butter over your sugars, making sure you get all those delicious browned bits in there, and stir stir stir! Don't burn yourself--but it starts cooling off immediately as the sugars dissolve into cooling liquid. I use Fork for this, but you can use a strong whisk or a hand mixer.
Once the sugars are completely dissolved and mixed, it will look kind of like a grainy caramel. Let it sit until completely cool, somewhere around fifteen minutes. Maybe take this time to go put up a Tumblr post about your delicious cookies.
(Part 2 incoming shortly)
185 notes
·
View notes
Note
Tricky with a mime!reader? Classic clown and mime but mime!reader has like actual mime powers. Tricky is confused but interested!
Oh this is so cute <3 i love clowns and mimes n stuff
Tricky x Mime!reader
Despite the world being a hellscape, there were pockets of quiet, times of peace tucked away in the briefest of moments, like now, for instance.
A small crowd had formed, a few of them tossing loose monies into your little donation box while you performed for them. A child was in the crowd, front and centre with awe in her eyes, it was incredibly rare to see one. The world just isn't safe enough for them.
Performing was such an art, movements so fluid, as though what you were doing was real, your spectators threw a little more monies as you pretended to get struck by lightning while flying a kite.
Shaking off the sparks in your system, you switched to something more calm for your final performance, it was getting late, and soon this peaceful area would be rife with vamps.
Bending down, you plucked a bouquet of flowers, deeply inhaling their scent, before turning and offering them to the child. She giggled, and reached out for the fake gift, but the moment it left your hands, it took on a physical form. She was holding a handful of varying white flowers, daisies, snowdrops, baby's breath, and a proud white rose in the middle.
Stars filled her eyes. "How'd you dO THAT?" She squealed, clinging tightly to the first flowers she'd seen ever.
A single gloved finger pressed to your lips and you winked at her, mime magic. Taking a bow, you began to mime packing away your things, in actuality putting away some very real items to you.
"KEEP GOING, CLOWN WAS HAVING FUN!" You dropped your money box, scattering a few loose coins and notes onto the ground. Turning to face what you hoped wasn't real, you locked eyes with the mangled zombie clown, shaking in his uncontrollable way as his body tried to get rid of the excess energy pooling from the drive in his brain.
Terror filled your veins, you shook your head, acting out a vampire creeping along, before biting you.
Tricky laughed, enjoying your performance. "CLOWN LOVES SEEING OTHER CLOWNS IN THE WILD. YOU'RE DIFFERENT TO CLOWN, BUT CLOWN LIKES IT." He drove his stop sign into the ground, sitting down crossed legged like a child, ready to watch and learn.
It was going to get very dangerous shortly, judging by the encroaching darkness, on the other hand, in front of you was arguably the biggest threat in Nevada.
You held a hand out, suddenly feeling your clothing get wet, and you pulled an umbrella from your bag, trying to keep yourself dry. Tricky laughed and clapped, he was having fun.
The rain soon stopped, and you picked another item to play with, a tiny tricycle which you struggled to get on, before wheeling around in a few circles, Tricky's laughter getting louder and ... slightly more human sounding, under the screeching chaos, a softer male laugh could be heard. Strange...
"DO THE FLOWER THING, CLOWN LIKED THAT!" He suddenly lunged forward, and you reflexively put your hands up, and Tricky slammed into the wall of your mime box. "OUCH! WHAT IS THIS??" His clawed hands patted on the hard surface.
You took a step back, and mimed being stuck in a box. "THOSE... ARE REAL WALLS???" He tilted his head to the left like a curious dog. "CAN YOU TEACH CLOWN TO DO THAT??" Shaking your head in reply, a firm no. Even if you could talk and tell him how you did it, you doubted it'd work.
"NOT FAIR, CLOWN WANTS TO DO THAT. CLOWN WOULD PUT HANK IN A BOX AND SHAKE HIM!" Tricky laughed again, his body shaking violently as his hysteric giggles took over. "CLOWN WOULD MAKE HANK A PULP!"
You carefully picked up your stuff, including the money you dropped, while Tricky was preoccupied. He was being just a little too unhinged for your liking right now, and it was getting dark fast, vamps would soon flood this area for an easy meal.
"DO YOU REALLY HAVE TO GO? CLOWN WANTS TO HANG OUT MORE." You nodded to him. "...CAN CLOWN SEE YOU AGAIN?" A smile crept over your face, and you nodded, gesturing around at the park, you'll be around here sometime.
"CLOWN LOOKS FORWARD TO IT! CLOWN LIKES OTHER CLOWN!"
Clown likes clown too.
#tricky#madness tricky#tricky the clown#tricky x reader#madness combat tricky#madcom#madness combat#madcom x reader#madness combat x reader#madness combat reader insert#x gon deliver to ya
121 notes
·
View notes
Note
hello could you please do an imagine of being nervous to tell pedro your pregnant then how he would be throughout the pregnancy please.
Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!reader
A/N: I changed your request to Whiskey because it screams Whiskey honey, I'm sorry if you're disappointed 💔
When you found out you were pregnant, you never such anxiety before
You were sure you were taking your birth control pills correctly so it was a huge surprise when you felt the classic symptoms: nausea, tiredness, delays in your period and of course you also knew contraception could fail but it was usually that kind of thing you thought that would happen to other people, not you
And the fact Jack finished inside of you most of the time didn't help
At your first symptoms, neither of you even thought of the possibility, brushing it off as a cold or something simple, but as he left for a mission you got intrigued and by the time you decided to take the test, you weren't sure if the symptoms were so evident or if you were too paranoid and it was the only thing you could think about
So you took the test and you couldn't believe it when it came out positive
So you decided to take a blood test to be 100% sure
And you were 100% pregnant
And then you spent the rest of the days wondering how you could tell Jack about it, as you two never really discussed about having kids but you knew all about his past and all the trauma that came with it
So you were really really scared of his reaction. What if he didn't like it? What if he sent you away? Broke up with you? So many scenarios ran through your mind and it all increased the worry you felt
And then Jack returned home, he had missed you so much, he could swear he was getting too old for that, before you he loved the thrill of going on a mission, flying the world and kicking bad guy' asses, but now all he could think of was coming back home alive for you
So he thought it was a little odd how startled you were around him and how you'd jump whenever he entered a room unannounced
Jack was great at observing and he could tell something was definitely going on, you were never wary around him like that and you definitely didn't refuse his touch like you were doing
So he just cornered you and demanded to know what was going on. A lot of insecure thoughts also ran through his mind. Were you in love with someone else? You didn't love him anymore?
But all these thoughts were dead and gone the moment he saw your eyes filling up with tears and your shaky voice admitting you were pregnant
Jack's mouth went dry, his own eyes filled with tears and he was sure the air escaped his lungs
He could feel his own hand shaking with nervousness and shock but he still touched your womb, he smiled at you and kissed your lips, his heart racing at the happiness he felt at that moment, he was going to be a dad after all
And during the months that passed, Jack was nothing but loving and protective of you and the baby, he would cuddle you at every single opportunity, his hand on your belly, stroking it and talking to the baby inside so the baby gets used to his voice
Jack taking you to all the appointments and always being with you, holding your hand and crying when the two of you listened to your baby's heartbeats every time
Jack building the nursery by himself, panting the walls, fixing up the room, picking the decoration, helping you place the baby clothes in the dresser
Getting a tiny little baby stetson hat so your kid can be a cowboy like their daddy
Massaging your swollen feet and your aching back
Making sure to remind you how beautiful and desirable you are even if you don't feel that way as your due date approaches
Jack freaking out when your water broke and rushing you to the hospital
Holding your hand through the whole thing, praising and encouraging you for doing an amazing thing which is literally giving birth to another human being
And finally Jack not being able to hold back his emotion and crying when he holds his newborn for the first time, being so mesmerized at how perfect that tiny little baby and how much he loves them
_____
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal headcanons#pedro pascal headcanon#agent whiskey#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey x you#agent whiskey x y/n#agent whiskey fanfiction#agent whiskey fanfic#agent whiskey headcanon#agent whiskey headcanons#jack daniels#jack daniels x reader#jack daniels x you#jack daniels x y/n#jack daniels fanfiction#jack daniels fanfic#jack daniels headcanons#jack daniels headcanon
120 notes
·
View notes
Text
John Price; Drop Everything Now.
Part 2
CW: PTSD, Songfic inspired by "Sparks Fly" (Not in a cringe way I promise)
GN!Reader who is a sergeant on TF141. WC: 2,262
AN: I needed to post this before I completely tore it apart (again) and decided to scrap it. LMK if you'd like a part two because I have a good chunk of it but unsure if I'd like to continue this since I want the PTSD to linger and not be just diminished because reader is love of his life (I'd like to at least try to have some realism, rip). This was actually created for a test run of writing PTSD so I am happy to take any constructive criticism or tips for writing it. Hope you enjoy!
Being stationed in the Middle East meant that you weren't used to much besides the hot sun baring down on every activity you did and dust storms that would blow over, which effectively made you shut your mouth to not breathe in the dirt. However, that didn’t mean that Mother Nature would not bless the dry lands with an ounce of rain every once in a while.
You wouldn’t know about the rain usually unless you were outside training or on a mission when the dark clouds would roll in, giving you a rare break from the sun. Other times, the clouds would cover the stars and moon in the night sky, but you wouldn't be able to tell just what kind of clouds they were.
And that, unfortunately, is how tonight is going without your knowledge.
The rain was never an issue on base, its greatest hindrance being the lack of vision, the annoyance of getting wet, and the general time it would take to wait it out. However, there was always the unspoken thought of the thunderstorms that could arise.
You’ve served two years within TF141 as a sergeant, having been recruited and transferred to be on base under Price’s command. Now having some experience under your belt, you’ve seen a thing or two- but nothing compared to your superiors.
From an external point of view and reflection on yourself, it brings a possibility that your mind has yet to realize if the memories are getting trapped within yourself. Your nervous system may have gotten stuck in the past at a few points in time, but while you remain living in the action, your biggest symptom is nightmares and anxiety that you brush off each time.
The same can’t be said for your Captain.
Price, with his two decades of service, has lived through more than you could ever imagine and things he wishes to not recall. He plays the classic tough guy act, brushing his emotions off as something he can deal with when he’s home and not deployed- nor does he want to even believe they are necessary to process, his ways still being a bit old-fashioned.
When you were recruited, his viewpoint shifted a bit. Price wasn’t sure that you would be a good fit within the team, and debated putting you on a platoon further down the branch that he still oversaw from time to time. Yet, during your grace period, he would check up on you- being sure to debrief with you after long days of training exercises or drills that were getting harder and harder. When you had proven your worth to him and the team, an unspoken agreement between you two was formed. You would casually reside in his presence but keep it under the notion of him offering guidance to the rookie. This often resulted in you filling out reports or paperwork on your laptop in his office while he worked at his desk.
Price was not a sharer of his inner turmoil. But, sometimes, you would confide in him and he would allow a sliver of a softer man to peak out in the late hours of the night.
That's how the deeper part of your relationship worked with him. Hard-ass by day, and a mildly reserved man by late night. You’re close with the entirety of the team, but you’ve always had an attraction to Price, classically never trying to show it or verbalize it to anyone. Yet, you had a good hunch that he already knew from your softened behavior towards him when the veil of superior and subordinate came down to friends in the dark glow of his office.
You knew it was a bad idea to ever indulge yourself in having his attention and reciprocating it, but now you over-indulged for the last year and find yourself with a cavity at the sweetness you suck from his words. Your mind is always left in a trance on any touch he unknowingly spoiled you with; a hand to the small of your back, adjusting your elbows if you were using a heavier loadout during training, or a pat on the head after a job well done.
Tonight, the storm rolls in with thunder chasing right behind it.
It's late in the evening as you stand in the common room, having had dinner late, and washing the dishes while quietly humming to yourself. The subconscious part of your mind notices the flashes of lightning and deep thunder that penetrate the barriers of the base but leaving it as a non-threat. You wash your dinner plate, moving the sponge around, but before you can put the plate down to dry, your phone rings with a call from Price.
It's not unusual for him to call when he decides he’d like your presence while completing paperwork, yet your eyebrows furrow as you see the time to be later in the night than his usual request.
Before you can even speak into the phone after answering, your ear is polluted with the sound of his ragged breaths; the sound of rain hitting the ground is amplified more than what you hear while being inside. It sends a roll of skin-prickling anxiety down your spine as your eyes widen. “Price?” You ask after a blink, trying to understand what this call could be.
You hear it when he speaks, a tremor in the back of his throat and you can imagine the adrenaline-crazed look on his face. The sound of your name is called from him, and it almost sounds questioning, as if he isn't sure it's you, even though he called.
“I- I don’t know where I am…” He pants out, sounding choked up, trying to swallow air and the lack of saliva in his throat while in the pouring rain.
Drop everything now
Without a second thought, you drop the plate, the clatter of it breaking once hitting the ground echoes in the common room and snaps everyone's attention on you. Not having any need for apologies or reason, your body is already supplying the adrenaline needed to set into a dead sprint out of the common room as you weave past the other bodies to push through the hallway and enter the stairwell with the clamor of the metal doors swinging open.
“John, where are you- tell me what you see.” You call out as your body gets set on autopilot, practically flying down the stairs of the barracks and onto the ground floor moving into the hallways. “Do you see the training yard or do you see a road?” You pant out while pushing to find the exit door of the base.
It's here and now, that you now actively recognize the roll and clap of thunder as if it's taunting you to hurry up and find Price before it does.
But it seems it already has.
Each door, person, and corner you pass feels like a deliberate obstacle, frustrating you as you try to get outside faster.
“I- I see a road and the-” He’s interrupted by a bright flash, a strong shake of thunder following right after, and you hear him grunt in aggravation at the sound he lacks control over. With a call of your name, he makes a quiet plea. “Please, I need you here. Now.” He manages to ground out with a sharp breath, causing you to almost second guess yourself at what he said.
You bank a hard left, towards the East entrance, finding the door to take you outside towards the main road that leads to the base's entrance. Shouldering the large door, you grit your teeth while taking the metal harshly against yourself, but almost come to a halt when you feel the pouring rain pelt on your body.
Meet me in the pouring rain
“Please.” His voice shakes again through the phone, and the rasp from his panting re-escalates the adrenaline through your body.
It breaks your heart to hear him sound like this as if he’s succumbing to his demons. “John, I’m gonna find you but you need to help me, ok?” You ask as your legs begin to burn from the force that you run through the damp earth with. “-you see the flag pole? ” You bark out while another flash of lightning crosses the sky, closing your eyes as you wince. “Hey- listen to me, focus on me.” You command, praying that he isn’t locked inside his memories.
After a moment, “Y- Yes, I see it. The- the rains comin’ down hard- won't fucking stop.”
The shake in his voice is back; he’s shivering and his irritability is beginning to build up faster as it makes itself evident the longer he stays held within the turmoil of his nervous system.
Running and finally entering the main yard after having had to cut through the detached buildings to make it to the front, you place your free hand over your eyes to try and gain some semblance of visibility while the flashes of lightning aid for a moment.
“Meet me there. It’ll be just you and me, only us.” You pleaded with a hint of firmness, needing to direct him as you move with haste towards the lit flagpole, the light being a beacon through the pelting rain.
While running in the dark and wet ground, you lose footing and slide your foot into loose gravel; your right elbow is now scraped while you clatter to the ground with a “Fuck-” Your voice breaks through the night air, as your yelp of pain staccatos out in the silence between the flash of light and complimenting rumble of thunder.
In a moment before you can stand up, you hear your name being yelled out, whipping your head up in response. The raw tenacity of his voice through the thrumming of rainfall hits when there is no other force of the storm that can distract either of you.
Your gazes find each other; he looks frozen for a moment, then immediately runs to you.
“John-“ falls past your lips in a cry when you spot him. His fatigues stick to his body, his hair wet and bucket hat long gone. Making his way hurriedly, his body slows with unexpected grace as he helps you to your feet. Almost as if in a hurried frenzy, you latch onto him by his arms, blinking through the falling rain as you look up and search his face.
The expression he wears, as he makes sure you’re alright, contradicts the voice he had just seconds earlier; his eyebrows furrowed with worry as he checks over you, quickly placing his large hands on your ribs to stand you upright as if you are a toddler who has just taken a tumble.
“Bloody- You alrigh’ sweetheart?” He asks as the warmth of his panting breath fans across your face while pulling you up against him.
“I’m ok, I just slipped from the rain. Thank you.” You speak while still holding him tight, latching onto him. Your heart aches at seeing him care for you no matter where his mind places him, always putting others before himself.
John nods, letting out a small sigh. The feeling of your warmth against his chest brings him back down as he looks over you, trying to blink the anxiety and rain from his eyes. The feeling of his hands, cold and now gentle, glides up to move the wet hair from your eyes. It surprises you for a moment as he stays completely silent besides the tremoring breaths he takes.
At the silence, you let a small huff of laughter escape before closing your eyes and giving a smile in relief at having him in your sight and arms, before fluttering your eyes open to gaze up at him.
You return the gesture when you move your hand to wipe his hair off of his forehead, the rain having matted it down to his skin. “With me as I’m with you. Always with you, John.” The lull of your voice surprises both of you as it can be heard perfectly in the rain, with no sign of thunder or lightning interrupting your words.
John cups the base of your skull, looking at the raindrops that fall in small splashes and trails along your face. His eyes dilate when focused on you, the sight of him this close and his icy blue eyes keep steadfast on you, leaving a haunting mark on your memory and heart.
He moves his head down to meet yours; pausing for a moment as if he isn't sure this is real- he isn’t sure that this isn’t a dream and his mind is granting him a wish. Is this a true trick of his mind? This can't be a memory, surely-
He looks as if he’s in pain, so you take the last leap of faith for him.
The new and added warmth of his lips on yours is tender. It contrasts the rough environment of where you stand, the life you both live and the constant battles faced within. Your arms and his alike move to wrap around each other in a harsh and tight embrace.
As the raindrops fall all over both your faces, you feel as if you’re in a movie and the climax has just hit when the lovers are united.
You both are soaking wet, but neither of you seems to mind. He pulls you back into him, deepening the kiss with a determined and desperate force.
Kiss me on the sidewalk
Take away the pain.
#task force 141#call of duty#captain john price#john price#john price x reader#captain jonathan price#jonathan price#cod mw2#call of duty modern warfare#captain price x reader#captain price mw2#cod price#price x reader#captain price#141
64 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Farmer's Daughter
Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Summary: You and Jake go way back to his roots in Texas, with things ending in a rough manner. Now, he comes home to the farmer's daughter whose heart he swore he would never ride, or fly, off with.
Word Count: 4.0K
Warnings: Angst, Harsh Language, Hangman was lowkey a jerk, Cowboy!Hangman
A/N: *I will say if you are not a fan of ranch/farm life, this may not be for you!* But, I'm finally back to write something! I'm sorry it has taken so long but I have been so incredibly busy, but I hope this will be a good enough apology! COWBOY HANGMAN!!! -Birch<3
Part 2 - The Aviator's Cowgirl
Wind roars across the grassy plains of the valley, ruffling the dense coats of various colored cattle. Some were red, some were black. Others were red and white, while others were roaned and speckled in color.
The cows were quietly cruising through the glen, making their way down south toward the greener pastures. Spring was finally on its way, with warmer, sunnier days followed by even oranger sunsets.
Many of the calves clung close to their mothers after the spring calving, not wanting to be too far from the herd. Some of the cows were bolder, leaving their calves further away, then having to call and bellow to find their distant young.
It was one of the most beautiful things, living out on a cattle ranch. There was no sign of the city in any direction, and you got to raise the food that would supply you and your family through the seasons. Some may call it cruel, but others would say you were using what God gave you to live on.
Hours spent in the fields were not wasted on you. Plowing the land and fertilizing the dry, cracked soil, were not foreign ideas to you. Sowing seeds into the prepped ground, watering them to give them a chance at survival.
To you, there was no other life than being a rancher.
Being a rancher had its perks- making the best friends a man could have. The dogs, of course. The horses, even more so. And yet, nothing could beat the compassion and care of a friendly neighbor.
Growing up on your homestead, the next closest ranch was a few acres away. They never were close enough to see any of their cattle or pigs, and you had only been to their house as a kid.
Being a kid seemed so long ago.
Now, you spent most days sitting on the back of your palomino mare, Sandy. Days like today were spent watching your herd move down the mountain and into the plains of the valley. You didn't always use to be alone when you pushed the herd.
Occasionally your father would join you, but he had other matters to attend to, and your brothers always seemed to join him. Not that you cared, as riding horses was perhaps your favorite aspect of being a rancher.
You would check fences, push the cows, and ride up to the top of meadows to watch the sunset over your home. To you, there was nothing like the connection you had while riding a horse, and you wouldn't have given her up for anything.
At one point in time, you would have given every possession you had up for a certain cowboy.
Tall and muscular, with blonde hair, and green eyes. The classic, square-jawed look of a cowboy. A sharp tongue paired with an even quicker wit, combined with a charming personality and smile was the death of you.
It didn't help he was always willing to help out. Roping the calves for the brandings, fixing up the four-wheeler that seemed to stall every time you got it out. Even going as far as to bring your mother some of their fresh apples in the fall when your trees gave out.
He was kind-hearted, chivalrous, and down-to-earth. He was the definition of God's cowboy.
Jake Seresin.
The first time you ran into him was when you were at the farmer's market in town. Your mother had given you a specific list of items to get for her homemade chicken casserole, as she was busy picking up your younger sister from her riding lesson.
The stalls at the farmer's market were not unfamiliar to you, as you had tagged along with your mother many times as a child. The sellers were always kind to you and had Texas-sized personalities to go along with the enormous amounts of ingredients and produce they sold.
"Good morning, Mrs. Bell," you call as you walk up to the older lady's stand, looking over her collection of fresh berries and vegetables hand-picked from her garden.
A white head of hair popped out from the back of her tent, a wide grin on the older lady's face as she replies, "Oh, good morning, dear! Help yourself to whatever you need, I'm just having some help unloading my crates."
At that, Mrs. Bell disappears, and you giggle at her antics as you start to bag up a few peppers and tomatoes from her stand. It was a fairly quiet morning, so you took a moment to look around your surroundings.
A few older gentlemen were setting up their meat stand. You could see cuts of chickens, turkeys, and wild geese sitting on ice just as they worked on the larger carcasses of steers and barrows.
Your concentration is broken when you hear rustling at the back of the tent, and you turn around, clenching the bag of veggies close to you.
A boy donning a tan Stetson appears in front of you, his muscular arms holding a large crate of cucumbers as he slid through the folds of the white tent. His green eyes lock onto your own (colored) ones, and in an instant, his boyish charm captivates you in the form of a beautiful smirk.
"Good morning, Miss...?" he asks, a slight drawl to his rich voice as you take him in. He's wearing his cowboy hat, yes, but his hair was shaggy under the hat, a dirty blonde that you knew his friends probably teased him for.
He wore a simple navy t-shirt, as the morning was already warm. You allowed yourself to rest your eyes on the snug Wrangler jeans that hugged his waist, accentuated by the large and shiny belt buckle that finished off his look. You almost could have bet he wore a pair of boots too, but you snapped out of your daze before you could finish thinking about it.
"Y/n," you usher out, warm with embarrassment as he sets the crate down in the open spot in front of you. His green eyes are as sharp as jade when he regains eye contact with you, and his head tilts a little as he repeats, "Y/n...?"
You groan internally as you scold yourself for being so starstruck. You blink once to regain your cool, before shifting your weight and responding, "Y/n L/n. And who are you, cowboy?"
A low whistle slides out from his pink lips before he chuckles out, "Pretty name for an even more gorgeous girl. And as long as I can get your phone number, you can call me anything you want."
Being six feet underground had never sounded better at that moment, as his shameless flirting had your cheeks burning and your will to live dropping. You were thankfully saved from responding when Mrs. Bell popped up next to him and scolded, "Jake, you leave my favorite customer alone!"
You glance back over at him, quirking an eyebrow and you ask, "Jake, is it?" You whistle back at him and say, "Kind of a basic name for a basic cowboy, huh?"
Mrs. Bell folds her arms, watching the two of you with a knowing look in her eye. The cowboy, Jake, lets that wide smirk back onto his face and repeats, "It's a great name, for a great cowboy. I think it'd sound good next to your name too."
You do your best to ignore his flirtatious comments, and you look at Mrs. Bell and show her your bag of veggies. "Just three red peppers and four tomatoes," you say, willing the butterflies out of your stomach.
The older lady gives you a wink as she rings you up, and briefly turns to Jake and says, "Be a dear and go finish getting the rest of my crates, please."
He gives her a respectful nod and catches your gaze again, this time with a softer smile. Jake tips his Stetson towards you and murmurs, "Have a nice day, Miss. L/n."
You swore you were as red in the cheeks as the vegetables your mother was making you buy. Thanks, Mom, I'm pretty sure I'll never be able to look Mrs. Bell in the eye ever again.
The next time you met the blonde-haired cowboy was just at the start of summer, kicked off by the county fair you were always a part of. It was either submitting some of your favorite photographs from the ranch or helping your little sister prep her show steer for her 4-H competition.
And this time, Jake caught you at a shaved ice stand just after 6 o'clock in the evening, with the rays from the sun starting to fade into a mirage of colors across the fairgrounds.
He slid into the line behind you, as you were the only one crazy enough to get shaved ice in the evening as it cooled off. That smirk ended up on his lips again, and he announced himself with an order, "Make that another of whatever Miss. L/n is ordering, please."
You whip around at the drawl to his voice, cash in hand as your eyes widen. No. No. No. This is the worst time for this cute cowboy to be seeing me. My hair certainly has fuzz in it from our steer, my clothes are covered in mud, and I don't have any makeup on. Shit.
And Jake? Looked phenomenal. Wearing his Stetson, of course, with a tight white t-shirt that clung to every single unholy part of his body. The thin material led down to a deep blue pair of Wranglers, along with his buckle and boots.
He looked like a walking model from Ariat or Kimes, and here you were, looking like you had just finished wrestling a lamb from its ewe mother through a bale of straw.
"J-Jake," you stutter out as the attendant goes to make another shaved ice. His grin only widens when he realizes how caught off guard you are and he chuckles, "You miss me or something, sweetheart?"
You can't help the warmth that floods your face, and you know it's not from the sun, especially with the evening cooling off. Sweetheart? He certainly knows how to lay it on thick.
"I didn't realize you came to the fair," you opt to say, trying to ignore his flirty comment. He leans up against the side of the shaved ice stand as his green gaze latches onto your own and states, "Honey, I've been coming to this fair before I could go mutton-busting."
A giggle falls from your lips as you picture a little Jake riding on the back of a sheep, clinging on for dear life. He chuckles at your response to his comment, his gaze flashing up to the cashier as he fishes a $10 from his wallet. You finish giggling right as he passes the cash to the attendant and you frown.
"We're paying sep-" "It's alright, Miss. L/n, I got it," Jake says smoothly, grabbing both cups of the watermelon-flavored shaved ice and handing one to you. He shoots a wink at you as his fingers brush your own, and you once again find yourself fighting pink from your cheeks.
"Y/n," you say once you grabbed your shaved ice and spoon from him. He quirks his eyebrow at you but doesn't say anything. You roll your eyes and repeat with a shrug, "Y/n, you can call me by my first name."
Jake smiles at you, this time very genuine as he nods, "Alright, Y/n," he tests your name out, "Would you care to join me at the tractor pulls tonight? I know where the best seats are."
It's your turn to flash him a wicked grin and say, "Hell yeah, we need to go make fun of my brothers!" At that, you peel off away from him, leading the way toward the pulling lanes with a maniacal giggle. Jake can only smile and shake his head as he follows your figure.
What had he gotten himself into?
It didn't take long after the fair for the two of you to really hit it off. Casual hangouts turned into dinner dates out at the local diner. Short texts turned into long, midnight calls asking each other about how your day was, even if every day was almost the same.
Days turned into weeks, which turns into months as Jake spent time with you. He would spend any chance he could with you when he wasn't working or helping Mrs. Bell. He'd pull into your driveway, picking you up in his red and white '77 Ford truck, the pinstripes of red on it soon became one of your favorite colors.
You would take him out on the trails of your family's farm, trotting through the creeks, loping through the pastures. Jake was a cowboy, yes, and knew how to ride, but nothing made you happier than seeing him get along with Sandy, your mare.
He would even take you down to his family's farm, driving out into the pastures to watch the sunset over his fields of horses. Many nights would lead to the two of you cuddling up on the bed of his truck, surrounded by a blanket and a stray pillow or two.
You never had been more in love than when Jake pulled you into his arms and made you dance under the stars with him to Carried Away by George Strait. It was that very night Jake kissed you for the first time, and you could swear he knew exactly what he was doing when he claimed your heart as his own.
From then on, you were his, and he was yours. Everyone was ecstatic you had found a respectful man, although a bit of a tease, to stand by your side. Jake devoted himself to you and working on his father's farm, promising you a life of happiness.
It was almost expected that you were going to marry Jake someday. He had the same values as you and wanted a nice little family of a few crazy boys and some pretty little girls. He wanted to teach them how to ride, how to rope.
He wanted you to make dinner for him when the days got too long for him to help, and for him to clean the dishes while you put the kids to bed. Jake could picture his future so easily with you, you weren't ever like anyone he'd ever met before.
That's why two years into your relationship with the cowboy, he got you a promise ring for your anniversary. It was a simple silver band, as he knew you worked with your hands every day and would likely abuse a ring with a large stone on it.
Jake held the ring in his right hand, asking for your left one slightly. You couldn't help but cry and laugh at the same time as you nodded, giving him your hand to slide the ring onto.
You wrapped your arms around his neck in a tight hug, his hands landing on your waist before wrapping snugly around your body. His grip was firm and unwavering, a solid constant in your life.
"I want you to think of me when you wear this ring, okay?" Jake whispered softly in your ear, holding you close to him. You sniffle and pull back, giving him a nod with watery eyes.
"I'll always think of you, Jake."
And the next day he was gone.
"Go on, git!" you yell at a loose heifer running away from the herd. You groan as she runs off into the woods, and you push the sorrel gelding you were riding into a trot to go after her. The rest of the herd started grazing as you left them, the wind whipping through the dried grasses around you.
It was a cold day in Texas. Your grey felt cowboy hat did its best to keep the wind off of your face, and even with your warmest jacket and wild rag tied around your neck, you still felt chilled and numb to your core.
It had been a hard few months when Jake disappeared without a trace. Mrs. Bell had no one to help her at her tent in the farmer's market, so you picked up the slack to help her.
Your dad grew sick and couldn't run the farm as readily, so you, your brothers, and your sister had to step in, while your mother took care of him. That meant you spent more time in the saddle, working all the horses and pushing the cows to the hay and silage for the winter.
Your gloved fingers reach for the rope tied to your saddle horn, and as you made your loop, your (colored) eyes found the young heifer again. You slow the gelding you were riding down, Ringo, he was called, as you come up to the small cow.
You could tell she was frightened, so while she didn't run, you gently threw the loop over her head and dallied the rope to your saddle horn. You glance over your shoulder, ensuring the rope was secured around the heifer's neck before dragging her out of the woods and back to the herd.
When the herd comes in sight, confusion floods over you to see Sandy, your palomino mare, being ridden. It wasn't your sister, she had her own bay gelding she liked to ride.
And it wasn't your brothers, as they preferred the four-wheelers. There was only one other person who rode your horse other than you. It was a cowboy. And not just any cowboy.
It was your cowboy.
The silver band on your left ring finger seemed to freeze over with a gust of wind, even though it was covered by your gloves. You can feel tears threatening to burn the edges of your eyes, but you ignore them.
It was him.
Trotting around the edge of the herd, keeping them close together, Jake steered Sandy perfectly, riding her with a practiced ease, like he had never left. You continue to drag the heifer up to the edge of the herd, where he finally catches sight of you.
You can't stand to look at him, and you leave your rope dallied to your horn as you swing your chap-covered leg off of Ringo and onto the ground. Tears stream down your face as you try not to sob, and you walk over to the scared heifer.
You slide the rope off of her neck, and she gets up and runs off to join the herd. You can hear Sandy's footsteps stop next to Ringo, and you hear Jake's feet hit the ground.
Sobs silently wrack your body, and you close your eyes and cover your face as you hear him approach you. He doesn't say anything, but you know he's standing directly behind you, waiting.
A gust of wind blows through, making you gasp for air as it seems to leave your lungs. The tears on your cheeks feel like they freeze to your skin as your vision blurs and a loud cry falls from your lips.
And that's enough for Jake.
He takes two large steps forward, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist from behind. His large frame helps block the wind, yet his touch makes your cries get more violent.
You turn around in his grasp, your gloved fists coming up and punching him in the chest. You're sobbing and thrashing, completely overcome with emotion.
Jake doesn't budge though. He's harder, firmer under your touch than you remember. From the blur in your vision, you can just barely tell that his shaggy locks have been cleaned up into a tight, slicked-back look under his Stetson.
How you had missed that damned straw hat.
"How could you?!" you scream as you lash out at him, a sob leaving your lips at the end of your cry. Jake just holds you tighter, and he takes his chances and pulls you into a close hug, wrapping his arms around your waist to stop your onslaught of attacks.
Your hands get trapped against his chest, yet your whimpers don't end. You can just barely hear Jake shushing you, the sound of his voice blending in with the whisper of the wind floating over you.
"How could you?" you mumble, your voice breaking at the end of your question. Jake pulls you impossibly closer, the felt hat on your head getting bumped off center, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.
"I never meant to leave you," he states, his voice different than how you remember it. There was no familiar twang to his voice, it was harder, more neutral. He didn't sound like himself. You push off of him, fighting through the new strength he seemed to come back with.
You push your hat back down onto your head, brushing away the tears from your eyes and cheeks with the backside of your gloves. You stand back and take him in. He's wearing the clothes of the man you loved, but he certainly didn't look like the Jake you remember.
He was broader than before. Wider from shoulder to shoulder, no doubt covered in more muscle. He was clean-shaven, with no sign of the stubble or beard you grew to love on him. Even his eyes had harshened, they weren't as sweet or soft as you recalled.
"How could you leave me like that?" you ask quietly again, not happy with his answer. "You left me after that night, Jake. You LEFT me after you gave me this damn ring!" At that, you pulled your left glove off, the silver band immediately catching the cool light from the overcast sun, gleaming as if it were brand new.
You could feel a wave of new, hot tears burning at the edges of your eyes, but you pushed them down and continued, "I waited every day, Jake. For a call, a text, or a letter in the mail. And I got nothing." Your voice dropped deadly quiet on the last word, a lone tear streaming down your cheek.
You couldn't read the emotion on Jake's face, as it was perfectly masked. You huff once to catch your breath and then you yell, "Say something, dammit!"
Another gust of wind blows through, and Jake glances down at his boots before regaining eye contact with you. The jade color of his eyes had dimmed, and when he gazed at you, you didn't know how to feel.
"I never stopped loving you, Y/n. I had to leave, even though I really didn't want to," he starts. He takes a step toward you, but you take another step back, your arms wrapping around yourself protectively.
Jake can feel his heart crack at the way you're looking at him. It was never supposed to be like this. You seem to glare daggers at him and whisper, "You always have a choice." He swallows thickly, averting his gaze, and continues, "Not this time, I didn't."
You groan in frustration and whip around in a circle, heading back for the horses, but Jake catches your free hand in his own. His rough fingers catch your left hand, the feeling of his skin on yours enough to make you stop in your tracks.
"Y/n, please wait," he calls out. You immediately snap back, "I waited 6 damn months, Jake! You just up and disappeared! No one would tell me where you were or what happened to you."
You rip your hand out of his, quickly shoving your gloves into the pocket of your jacket. You pull the promise ring off of your ring finger and looking him in the eye, you slam it up against his chest.
With tears in your eyes you whisper, "I'm tired of thinking about you Jake, because every time I think of you, I think about how you left me with nothing."
He doesn't move as you pull away from him, grabbing the reins of both Ringo and Sandy, you mount the gelding you had been riding. With your rope recoiled and Sandy next to you ready to pony, you look back at him.
"I'm sure you can find your own way out of this damn pasture," you say coldly as you lope off, Sandy trotting next to you as you bypass the herd of cows.
And as you ride off toward your homestead, tears streaming down your cheeks, Jake is left standing in the pasture with snow falling around him, holding the ring that had previously bound him to you.
Tag list: @xxdragonwriterxx @tejxswini @mysterystarz @mortedeveles @vs-redemption @kal0psi-a @gin-no-g @starstruckkittensweets @kitacharm @shirari @animated-moon @mitzwinchester @elitparadox @yumeyooa @angels-main @anlian-aishang @notroosterbradshaw
(If anyone would like to be removed, please just let me know<3)
#jake seresin x reader#hangman x reader#top gun x reader#jake seresin x you#hangman x you#top gun x you#jake seresin#hangman#top gun#top gun maverick#jack seresin x y/n#hangman x y/n#top gun x y/n#top gun maverick x reader#top gun maverick x you#top gun maverick x y/n
197 notes
·
View notes
Text
youtube
Excerpt from this story from Audubon:
The night of June 10 was warm, but not too much so. After days of rain, Concord, Massachusetts, wrung itself dry. The moon edged toward fullness. Rarely in need of an excuse to wander, Henry David Thoreau took it anyway. He followed Concord’s train tracks out of town and into a moonlit meadow. There, he encountered an iconic bird of the United States: the Eastern Whip-poor-will.
With their cryptic plumage and nocturnal habits, Eastern Whip-poor-wills are rarely seen, but the male’s loud, rhythmic songis hard to miss. Thoreau heard them that evening—five or six at once. A few nights later, when the moon was full, he encountered a dozen or more. “Perhaps this is the Whip-poor-will’s Moon,” he wrote in his journal in 1851.
Into the early 20th century, whip-poor-wills were sheer magic to those who inhabited their breeding range and awaited the species’ return each April and May. An important seasonal sign, the first whip-poor-will’s call signaled an end to frosts and marked the moment to plant sensitive crops, like corns and beans. Farmers let cattle out to pasture. Children knew they could play outside barefoot.
Quirkier and more personal rituals developed around their appearance. One could make a wish on his song, roll on the ground three times for a year without backpain, or shake a pocket full of coins for a year of financial success. Some people believed the repetitions of his name, which he can sing for many hours, predicted how many years they would live or, if they were unmarried, how many until they’d wed. In an article that circulated widely in 1941 and 1942, the United Press reported that an Alabama man—known to friends and family as “Uncle Rip”—waited to have one of his two annual haircuts until whip-poor-wills returned.
The whip-poor-wills’ tune was also part of the nation’s emotional landscape. To 19th century poets, whip-poor-wills might sound mournful, plaintive, and grieving. To John James Audubon, the “cheering voice” of the whip-poor-will was his “only companion” on nights alone in the woods. Others heard the sound of loneliness. When Hank Williams wanted to convey that emotion, he sang of a whip-poor-will who “sounds too blue to fly” in his often-covered 1949 classic, “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry.”
Yet in the decades since Williams belted those classic opening lines, much has changed for the whip-poor-will—and for our own relationship with the species.
While many kinds of birds are experiencing population declines, whip-poor-wills are especially vulnerable to habitat loss, pesticide use, loss of prey, car strikes, and predation. Ornithologists estimate that the Eastern Whip-poor-will population decreased by nearly 70 percent between 1970 and 2014. But their decline may have begun sooner. After World War II, agricultural and suburban development swallowed great swaths of woodlands. As early as the 1950s, writers like Knoxville News-Sentinel’s Lucy Templeton, whose “A Country Calendar” often included reports and lore about whip-poor-wills, worried over their disappearance from local landscapes.
We’ve changed, too. Many people moved away from the rural towns where they grew up amid birdsong. In the suburbs that replaced bird habitats, we homogenized landscapes with decorative plants unwelcoming to whip-poor-wills. If whip-poor-wills seemed to abandon our world, we also abandoned theirs.
To describe the human consequences of species decline, the lepidopterist Robert Michael Pyle coined the term “extinction of experience,” an ecological insight gained through his own moments of loss.
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
Broken Belts
Summary: Of course, the one day you decide to take it out for a spin, your classic car decides the repairs you were avoiding need immediate maintenance. Leading to you needing to head to a garage to fix them.
Oneshot
Fluff, Strangers to Dating, Fast burn?
Possible Warning?: Referring to a car as ‘Baby’.
Word Count: 4,956
‘Old-School’ Mechanic! Younghoon X Reader
[Long a/n w/info to go: If you’re changing your serpentine belt when it’s past due as you will do here, pls change the pulleys too- but rn you will not do that :) Very simplified car terminology: crankshaft: rotates pistons which runs the engine, alternator: keeps the battery charged, power steering: helps you turn easily, idler: keeps the engine running while it’s ‘sitting’, and water pump runs water throughout the system. Serpentine belt: The belt that keeps all the pulleys (that are attached to above terms) in time with each other, can be one or multiple. In this fic there will be two: A power steering serpentine belt & an air conditioning belt. Lastly, the two cars featured are a: ‘70 Boss 302 Mustang and a ‘71 Maverick. Lastly but not least; a special thanks to @jinkoh for helping inspire another Younghoon fic.].
------
You knew better. You swore you knew better, but even with the loud squealing of the serpentine belt, you still kept driving it. Because, of course, it wouldn’t break before you had time to change it. After all, it was just the first few days of summer. You wanted to enjoy the weekend with your Boss 302 Mustang, whether or not it was screaming. You’d replace them during the week when you had the time, but this was the first weekend, so it’d be fine. Your air conditioning had been malfunctioning recently, but in your mind, it was because the car was fifty-some years old. You just rolled the windows down and enjoyed the weather. Maybe, if it was a newer car, the computer would be screaming at you now to see a specialist. But that was the pleasure of older cars. You never had to deal with extra lights telling you the exact mileage when to do things. You could do it at your leisure, and like the serpentine belt, you’d fix it at your leisure.
So, with that thought in mind, at the turn of the green light, you slammed on the gas, the car roaring as you sped down the route ten miles over the speed limit. Your car needed to feel the breeze, even if it meant a ticket. You laugh as you continue down the sunset strip. It feels good to be behind the wheel after two seasons of waiting. You make it through two more green lights before hitting another red light. You pout and wait for it to turn green as you notice you're the only one waiting at the intersection. When the light changes, you get on it again, flying through the intersection.
You start turning your wheel to follow the curve when you hear a ‘snap’ sound over your radio. Your eyes widen as you lose power steering. Maybe it was good that your daily driver told you when to change things. “No, no, you promised me a nice weekend. Come on, baby.” You gulp as the wheel gets harder to turn. You make it past the curve, throwing your four-ways on, and a hundred feet after it, manage to pull it over onto the side of the road. You check it’s clear before popping the hood, getting out of the car, and shutting the door. You slip your fingers between the grill and opening and move the latch to the side, lifting up the hood, praying it isn’t one of the belts. You raise it until you can put the prop inside the slot. You let the hood rest on it before looking over the engine before locking eyes with the two-belt pulley system. It was the reason why you were avoiding repairing it this weekend. It was rotten to deal with one, but two? That's nightmare fuel. You look at the air conditioning belt and see it’s intact even though it’s dry-rotted. You sigh in relief before checking the power steering belt and watch as it falls off and onto the ground. You look up to the sky before shaking your head, “Well… I definitely can’t make it home, but I can get it to a garage at least.”
You get on your knees and grab the fallen belt. You check it over to see the clean snap and dry rot. And shake your head again, “There goes my nice weekend.” With a sigh, “I know, I know it’s my fault. I should have fixed you the second I heard your squealing. But I’ll fix you now, baby. It’s okay.” You look for the dimension numbers as you listen to the soft breeze. You hum as you type them on your phone as someone zooms past you reminding you you're still stuck on the road in the middle of nowhere. You lift the hood off the prop, locking it in place. You lower the hood down gently and let it drop the rest of the way. It clicks in place, and you get back inside your car.
You look up the nearest garages, looking for one with spaces to rent and a mechanic experienced in older automobiles. And luckily, the closest happens to be Younghoon’s Garage, an automotive repair shop. You read further to see he specializes in classic car maintenance and dabbles in the newer stuff. And that he allows for people to rent out garage spaces to work on their car. You sigh in relief. It was going to be okay. You didn’t have to deal with an inexperienced mechanic telling you how to work on your car. Nor did you have to worry about letting someone work on your baby, either.
You call up the garage and hear the voice of a person around your age answer, “Younghoon’s garage; what can I help you with?” You gulp your nervousness back; it's probably just the mechanic’s son taking the call. “Uh, I need to rent a garage today.” He hums on the other line, “Okay~ I have three available. Feel free to bring your car down any time today before six, or I won’t be able to let you in.” You thank him and tell him you’re two miles away and you’ll be there soon. “Okay, I’ll be waiting!” You hang up and place the belt on the floor. You turn your car over, pressing in the clutch, scolding your car, “Now, don’t give me any more troubles until we get to the shop, baby.” You shift it down to first, release the handbrake, and give it some gas before checking to see it’s clear. You grit your teeth as you turn the wheel to get it on the road before heading to the garage.
You couldn’t be happier to see the old-fashioned neon sign saying, “Younghoon’s Garage.” You groan as you turn the wheel, putting everything into it just to make it turn left. As you pull in, you see someone leaning against the entryway of a garage door. His hair is slightly in his eyes as he looks down at the ground. He looks up as you get closer, and you see him for the first time. You’ve never seen someone make a gray denim overshirt and white tee look so good. You huff out a breath as he waves you in, walking to the back of the garage. He guides you onto the lift, and if you weren’t struggling behind the wheel, you would have been stunned by his pretty smile. When he motions for you to stop, you tiredly put it into park, putting the handbrake down before turning it off. You shake your hands, getting the feeling back in them after gripping the wheel tightly to maneuver it.
You open your door and get out to see him waiting for you. He greets you with a warm smile, and you smile back as you shut the door behind you, “Hi, I’m (Y/n).” And he smiles, “Nice to meet you, I’m Younghoon.” You stop your jaw from dropping and tell him it’s nice to meet him, too. You didn’t expect him to be the owner. He looks at your car, “Your belt was squealing.” You sigh, “I know…” He shrugs as he laughs, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Did the power steering belt snap? It looked like you were struggling to turn it.” You nod, and he pats your shoulder, “I’m glad you got here safe then.” You sigh, “Me too.” He smiles and tells you, “Anyways, the garage is all yours to use! If you need parts or anything. Feel free to see my office.” He points to the door that leads out of the garage. He gives you one last smile before leaving, and you smile back.
You roll down the garage door, not wanting to deal with the slight breeze blowing inside while you’re working. You prop the hood up and head to the toolboxes, looking for the sockets and wrenches. You take the socket wrench with you and test the sockets against the bolt until you find the right size. And with ease, you loosen the idler pulley. You ratchet it back into place after removing the belt. You read the dimensions and write it down on your phone before heading to Younghoon's office. You open the door and find he’s nowhere to be found. You look down at the counter, trying to figure out what to do. When you see a ripped sheet of notebook paper, “(Y/n), if you need me, I’m in the garage two doors down!” You smile, not expecting his penmanship to be so pretty. You walk out the front door and hear the loud sounds of an air ratchet. You follow them to the garage he told you he’d be in. And see him pulling a back tire off of a Maverick. You take the sight in momentarily before reminding yourself that you’re here to work on your vehicle, not admire the shop owner. You come up to him, and before you can say anything, he rolls the tire up against the wall and sees you first. “Hey, (Y/n)! Whatcha ya need?” You smile, “My belts, but I can wait for you to finish this up.” He shakes his head, wipes his hands off on a white towel, and gets off the roller, “No need! I have another hour to replace the brakes on this Maverick.” You laugh and shrug, “If you say so.”
He leads you back to the shop, and that’s when you catch the smell of his cologne for the first time. You shake your head; of course, he smells good too. He holds the door open for you and lets you in. He runs his hand through his hair as he asks, “What sizes?” You tell him, and he nods, “I’ll go get them from the back.” You watch him disappear behind the shelving units. He peeks his head out for a second, and you resist smiling about how cute he is as he asks, “Anything else?” You shake your head and tell him, “No, I’m good.” He comes the rest of the way out, and you have to remind your heart that even if looks cute, he’s just doing his job. You thank him as he gently puts them in your hands. He heads out the front door while you head back out the side door to your garage.
After setting the new ones down, you take and toss the old ones into the rubber disposable bin. You find a clean rag and wet it with soap and water to clean off the pulleys. One dirty rag later, everything is cleaned and ready for its new belts. You head to your glovebox and pull out the modified diagram you made when you last replaced the belts. You mutter to yourself, “Next time, I’m getting a serpentine kit, so I only have to fix one belt.” You sigh as you look over your notes before slipping the new power steering belt out of its packaging. You fold and put it away, having already memorized the modified diagram. You slip it underneath the crankshaft pulley, before pulling the belt up to the alternator pulley, and slipping it over it. The easy part is over. You slide it underneath the water pump before moving the belt to where the power steering pulley is to wind it around. You work the belt up to the pulley, and it starts giving you a hard time. It takes two tries before you can muster all of your strength in your hands to force it up and over. You let out a breath of relief and take a break for water, sitting on the shop chair, knowing that the worst belt was over.
You take your time before heading back to the engine. The last step would be easy. All you had to do was get this over and out of this garage, and you’d be set for the next forty to seventy thousand miles if you’d play your cards right. You sigh as you pull the big belt out of its packaging and play with it, debating if your car was worth the trouble. You shake your head, deciding to do it, checking your diagram one last time before slipping the belt under the crankshaft pulley. After several minutes of struggling, you finally get the belt over the idler pulley. You grumble at it before attempting to push it over the a/c pulley. You try several more times but continue to come up short, just getting it to skim the top of it, not being able to push it over. You decide to let it go, thinking it’ll rest on the idler, and you watch as it slips right off both and onto the ground.
Having enough, you yell at it, “You gotta be kidding me!” You get down on your knees and pull it off the floor as you hear the office door fly open. You look to see Younghoon rushing out, “I heard you yell! Are you okay!?” You glare at the belt, “I’m okay… just mad at an inanimate object.” He chuckles, “You had me worried there.” After a moment, he gently asks, “Can I help?” You give him a look, “Wouldn’t that cost more…” He shakes his head with a laugh as he tells you, “You’ve already spent three hours here. I’ve got my money's worth.” You chuckle, “I guess so. And only if you want to.” He smiles and comes around to the front beside you, “Which belt are you working on?” You pull your diagram out showing him, “The air conditioning belt.” He nods, looking over it as he memorizes it, “Okay, let’s do it together.”
He rolls his gray sleeves up before holding his hand out for the belt. You hand it over, and he has you switch sides. He reaches his arm down and slips it under the crankshaft pulley. When he lifts his head, he compliments you, “You did well on the other belt!” You thank him, and he lets you pull it over the idler, and with a struggle, you push it over. His arm brushes yours as he reaches for the belt, “You hold it tight on the idler, and I’ll try to push it over the AC, okay?” You nod and clasp your hand over it so it doesn’t move off of the pulley. And with a grunt, he shoves it over, and your jaw drops before you go, “I loosened it up for you.” He looks over at you, and he winks, “Sure.” You look away to hide your fluster making a show of picking up your socket wrench. And he asks, “What size do you have so we can make this job go quicker?” You tell him, and he walks away as you start tightening down the bolts. He leans down beside you, putting his arm inside to tighten the crankshaft pulley. As you bump his side, you look over at him and give him an awkward smile, and he laughs as he does the same. You both continue bumping into each other until it’s all set in place, exchanging little smiles each time.
Once it’s all seated in place and perfect, he goes, “Start ‘er up!” You grin, and he backs up from the front as you hop inside and turn it over, giving it some gas until it roars. You pop out, and he goes, “Well, it hasn’t come flying off yet. So I think we did a good job.” You smile, “I think so too!” You both get closer, looking over the engine, watching the two belts spin around the pulleys. You step back, and he raises his hand up, you smile as you give him a high five, and he smiles back. You head back inside your car and turn it off. When you pop back out, he asks, “What do you say to takeout?” You blink at him, “Huh?” He tells you, “You’ve been here for almost three and a half hours and haven’t eaten. And I’m quite hungry for dinner. So, what do you say to takeout?” You shake your head, “You don’t have to-” He shakes his head back at you, “No, you’ve worked your ass off to get this thing here, and then you had to struggle with these belts. So what would you like?” You smile, “Something delicious.” He nods, “I know just the place. You get everything cleaned up, and I’ll order, okay?” You nod, “Sounds good.”
He heads to his office while you put all the tools you’ve borrowed away into their proper places. Throwing the dirty rag into a bucket for rags before heading back to your car and lifting the hood up off the prop, setting that down first before you shut the hood. You head to his office to see him bringing a chair in for you to sit on and hold your hands out, “Got anywhere to wash my hands?” He nods, “Yeah,” he moves from behind his desk and shows you to it. “Feel free to use it how you like.” You nod and give him a small, “Thanks!” You make your way back just as he’s placing the bags of food down. He hears you walking towards him and goes, “Just in time~” You smile and walk over as you figure out whose box is which.
As you eat, you think about what to say to him. When it hits you, you tell him, “You know, I thought you were an old man.” He tilts his head at you as he leans back, “Why’s that?” You laugh, “You pretty much work only on classic cars. And when you answered, I thought I was talking to the owner's son or something.” He runs his hand through his hair as his lips press together, “Oh, I hope it was a pleasant surprise.” You laugh, “Yeah, it was nice.” He smiles, and after a pause, he says, “You know, we’re a little odd?” You ask, “Why’s that?” And he tells you, “We both like working on old cars.” You shake your head, “I guess we are a little odd.” You both giggle, and he claps his hands together, which makes you laugh even harder. Finding it endearing, the words, “So cute,” slip out before you can stop them. Your eyes go wide, and you quickly look down, digging into your food, acting as if your food made you say it. You don’t see his ears turn red, but you feel his stare on you as you eat, yet he doesn’t say anything. So you figure he just brushed it off. After a few moments of silence, he says, “You know I’ve never worked on a Boss until today.” You gasp, finally looking up at him, “What about ridden in one?” He shakes his head, “Never. Only ever seen them at car shows.” You smile as you tell him, “I guess we’ll have to change that. What do you say we take my car for a test drive after this?” He grins, “I’d like that.” You eat another bite, and he asks, “What do you say to ice cream?” You smile, “I’d like that. It'll be my treat for helping me.” He smiles, “Okay, and I’ll guide you to it while you show me what your baby can do~” You grin, “Okay!”
When you’ve both finished eating, you clean up your trash and toss it in the can. He clicks the button for the garage and leads you out, “I’ll have to shut from inside, but I’ll guide you off, okay?” You nod and head to your car. Hopping in, you turn it over, checking the door is fully up before you start easing the car off the lift, looking over to the side to see him motioning you. You gulp as you hear your back tires hit the ramp, and he smiles at you, encouraging you to keep going. You get your car off the lift and onto the pavement outside and watch as the garage door shuts in front of you. He comes out of the shop with his keys in hand, and you pop the door open for him, “Hi.” He smiles, “Hi.” You watch as he sinks into the seat, his knees practically to his chest. And you both laugh before you say, “You can put the seat back.” He scoots the chair and leans it back. And with a sigh, he says, “That's a lot more comfortable.” You shake your head, still laughing, “I bet.” Making sure his seatbelt is on, you ask, “Ready?” He smirks, “Born ready.”
You reverse until you can spin it around and drive onto the main route. Instead of hearing the squealing, you hear the gentle roar of your motor. And he tells you, “It already sounds better.” You smile at him as you shift into first gear, “It does.” You smoothly transition from second to third gear as you get up to speed. He relaxes in the seat as he watches you drive, and you feel excitement as you race down the road. You pat the wheel, “That’s it, baby~” Out of the corner of your eye, you see him smiling at you, “What?” He shrugs his shoulders, “Nothing.” You ask, “You sure?” He smiles, “You just look good behind the wheel.” You blush, “Is that so?” He hums, “Yeah.” He doesn’t say anything else, and you both listen to the radio, unsure of what else to say.
You shift it into fourth as the speed limit finally reaches seventy. And he lets out a little cheer, and you grin over at him, and he asks, “How fast can it go?” You smirk, “Wanna find out?” He nods excitedly, and you check behind you to see an empty street. You look at him with a smirk before slamming down on the gas and taking off. You watch as you fly up to eighty, quickly hitting ninety. You grin as you push a hundred, “It can go faster if you’re up for it?” As you take a glimpse at him, you see his sparkling eyes, “Hell yeah!” Your grip on the wheel gets tighter as you watch the road more intensely, and just as you hit 110, you see headlights coming towards you. You ease up on the gas as you pout, “We could have hit a hundred and thirty…” Your speed quickly drops, and he says, “Well if it’s any consultation-” You look over at him as your gauge drops back down to a safe seventy, “Hmm?” He grins, putting his hand over your other hand that’s now resting on the shifter, and links his fingers through yours, “That was the coolest experience I’ve had in months!” You giggle at him, “I’m glad you enjoyed it~” He smiles as he tells you, “And we’re about an intersection from the ice cream place.” You grin, “That’s even better news!” You slow down further as you get through the intersection. You notice his hand still over yours and squeeze his fingers as you shift down. He tells you to turn left as you shift into second. With one hand, you spin the wheel left and pull into the ice cream stand. You pull in, put into park, and look at his hand. He gasps as he quickly removes it from yours, and you resist your pout until he says, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was-” You shake your head, “I liked it.”
You get out of the car and offer him your hand, and he smiles as he links his hand in yours. You order your ice creams and pay for them before heading to the pickup line. You both talk quietly as you wait in front of the window. The person behind the window asks, “One cone and one sundae?” You both nod and take yours and some napkins before walking away, “Where do you want to sit?” He looks at the tree close to the car, “Underneath the tree?” You smile, “Sounds good to me.” You sit side by side underneath the tree while the sun slowly starts setting in the sky, and you ask, “So, what do you like to do for fun?” He smiles, “Watch movies and play video games.” You nod as you eat another bite of ice cream, and he asks, “What about you?” You smile as you tell him before asking, “Got any pets?” His eyes twinkle as he tells you about Bori and shows you photos of her. You grin, “She’s so cute!” He smiles, “The cutest.”
You two continue talking until you finish your ice cream. You get up together and throw away your trash. “Since you’ve never worked on one or rode in one before. Have you driven one?” He shakes his head no, and you ask, “Do you want to?” He blinks, “Seriously?” You hum before you ask, “You’ve driven a manual before, right?” He nods, and you smile as you hold your keys out to him, “I trust you.” He takes them in his hands, “You sure?” You agree as you head to the passenger side, “It’s not often I get to sit over here.” He looks at you over the roof, “Well, today’s your lucky day then.” You grimace before you say, “Overall, yeah.” He laughs, “Maybe not entirely. But how about right now?” You smirk, “It's better cause you're here.” He laughs as he sits down and shakes his head at you. He has to push the seat back again as you adjust your seat to have a straighter back. You both shut your doors and put on your seatbelts before he looks over at you and turns it over, giving it a little gas before it roars to life.
He lets up on the handbrake and engages the clutch, letting it slide into first. You watch him as he sticks his tongue out while he pulls out of the parking spot to concentrate. You giggle as you look at him, and he looks over at you and winks. You shake your head, and he pulls onto the road and shifts into second, quickly changing into third, then fourth as he gets it up to seventy. When he’s comfortable driving, no longer concentrating, you bump his hand that’s resting above the shifter. He grins over at you and takes your hand in his, interlocking your fingers.
You look at your joined hands and wonder how today went from rotten to wonderful. But as you trail your eyes up to his, “It was because of you.” He gives you an odd look, “Huh?” And you smile, “You made my day go from rotten to wonderful.” He squeezes your fingers, “My day was boring before you showed up.” You laugh, “Is that because I gave you something to do?” He shakes his head, “No. It’s not often someone as pretty as you walks into my shop.” You pout, “How often is not often?” He smiles, “Well, considering I’ve only seen you once? Once.” You roll your eyes, “Smooth,” but grin as you watch the streetlights fly past you.
You let his hand go so he can shift down when you see the shop in the distance. And before your hand can completely part from his, his pinky catches yours. You giggle as he shifts with your hand still partially in his. He slows down and parks in front of the garage you were in before. When you have to get out of the car, it’s his turn to pout as he shuts off your car. “What?” You ask as you shut the door behind you, “I still want to hold your hand.” You laugh as you hold your hand out for him to take again, “Okay.” He takes your hand in his and leads you to the shop door. He unlocks it and turns the light on before walking to his desk and sitting on his shop chair.
He asks you to sit down in yours, and you do, before you ask, “So, how much do I owe you?” He looks back at you, “I don’t feel like it’s right to charge you after we just went on a date…” You roll your eyes, “Before that, I was just a regular customer.” He shakes his head, “Regular customers are old gearheads…” You laugh, “So does that make me special, or do you invite them to eat dinner with you too?” His face twists up in disgust as you cackle, “Ew…” You ask again, “Anyways, what’s the total?” He sighs, “$80…” You roll your eyes, “The real total…” He shakes his head, “I only charge $27 an hour.” “Really? Even for the parts?” He shakes his head, “I can’t charge you for them when I helped you.” You give him a confused look, “But you only helped me with one…” He shrugs, “And?” You blink at him, “Why?” He grins, “Because you’re cute.” You shake your head at him, “I don’t know how you stay in business.” He smirks, “Probably because you never came in before.” You blush, and with your free hand, you fish out your card and shove it into the card reader. “What if I want to charge you something?” He blinks at you, “What do you mean?” You grin as you ask, “A date with me on Friday?” He gives you a small smile, “I would go on a date with you for free…” You shrug, “Okay, so free of charge, what do you say to date with me on Friday?” He grins, “I’d love to.”
#younghoon#younghoon x reader#younghoon fluff#kim younghoon#kim younghoon x reader#kim younghoon fluff#younghoon x you#younghoon x y/n#kim younghoon x you#the boyz#the boyz x reader#the boyz fluff#the boyz x you#tbz#tbz x reader#tbz fluff#tbz x you#kpop#kpop x reader#kpop fluff#younghoon fanfic#younghoon fic#the boyz fanfic#the boyz fic#tbz fanfic#tbz fic#younghoon the boyz#younghoon tbz#mechanic au#kpop fanfic
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
“What an interesting speciment we have here~”
Character Playlist / Character Inspirations
Full Name: Marina Lorelei Baleen
Nicknames: Mari (Sisters), Mademoiselle Sirène (Rook),
V/A: Kazumi Evans (EN), Miyuki Sawashiro (JP)
!Twisted from the Neverland Mermaids from Peter Pan!
Age: 18
Birthday: February 4th
Horoscope: Aquarius
Species: Merfolk (Siren variant)
Gender: Female
Pronouns: She/her
Height: 172 cm (or 5’8)
Hair Color: Burgundy
Eye Color: Sea Green
★。／｜＼。★
Homeland: Coral Sea
Family: Unnamed Father (deceased), Unnamed Mother, Five Unnamed Older Sisters
Dominant Hand: Right
Dormitory: Octavinelle
School Year: Third Year
Class: 3-D (No.8)
Best Class(es): Potions, Animal Language
Worst Class(es): Flying
★。／｜＼。★
Favorite Food(s): Créme Brûlée, Lobster, Salmon
Least Favorite Food(s): Fried Foods
Hobbies: Hairstyling, Lounging, Trying on Jewelry
Dislike(s): Dry Weather, Bad Hair Days, Molly Primrose
Talent(s): Singing, Self Care, Manipulation
Sexuality: Bisexual
★。／｜＼。★
Personality: Marina is the epitome of a classic siren, alluring but vicious! On the surface, Marina seems to be a vain and lazy young lady but on the inside, there’s a cunning and calculated side she has locked away inside. Marina is also just a gal who wants to have a good time! On the inside however, Marina can be quite kind and lovely to those she likes, though immediately switching back to her vicious side if someone she doesn’t like barges in. Marina can be a flirt too but if the flirting is genuine or just an act is unknown…
★。／｜＼。★
Mild TW for reference of Parental Death
Backstory: Marina comes from a family of merfolk living in the Coral Sea. Her family runs a perfumery business under the sea that Marina and her older sister help out at. She was often babied by her sisters due to being the youngest. Marina was very close with her father and was terribly saddened at his passing. In her family, singing was seen as a very important life skill and as such, Marina cultivated her singing voice along with her siblings. Later on, Marina was accepted to NRC of which her sisters and father were alumni of. She traveled onto land and was sorted into Octavinelle.
★。／｜＼。★
Trivia!
Marina sometimes falls asleep in her classes but still has high grades
The pearl necklace and bracelets she wears were a gift from her father!
At First, Marina was a bit hostile to humans but has since then gotten used to them
To those she’s close with, Marina has a habit of doing their hair for them!
Marina’s merform is reminiscent of a classic mermaid but much more fishy
#marina baleen#my art!#twisted wonderland#twst#octavinelle#octavinelle oc#twisted wonderland oc#twst oc#disney twst#disney twisted wonderland
25 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
izumaku
Cranium spacE
psykoj
Untitled
xaurabntahffxiv
Untitled
tua-devilish
𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔 𝖉𝖊 𝖒𝖊𝖑
jorcincunegui
Cuanto estupido hablando del rock !